All trappers have their favorite traps--the writer has his. Every boy knows that the Newhouse trap is at the top of the ladder, as to quality, but as to convenience, well, I prefer the No. 1 1/2 Oneida Jump trap, which is superior to all others on the market for small game. This trap is now made with jaws much thicker than the original "Jump" (Blake & Lamb), and the way the chain is now fastened gives the animal a straight draw instead of a twist, as was the case with the Blake & Lamb style. The Oneida Jump however, is lacking in strength of the springs, being much weaker than the Blake & Lamb of the same size but in all other ways I consider it far better than the original Blake & Lamb. The spring being so much weaker than the Blake & Lamb springs were, is a serious drawback, as the Oneida Jump trap of this size will not hold a large raccoon or a large fox.
Now, while many trappers might not seriously object to the trap on these grounds as they use many different sizes of traps or a different size of trap for each animal. This I never do in trapper the smaller animals, for when I make a dry or ground set, I set the trap for any animal from the fox to the coon or wildcat, although I may be more particular making the set for mink.
It makes a trapper feel sore to go to a trap and find that a fox or coon has been in his trap and escaped. This rarely if ever occurs when using the Blake & Lamb No. 1 1/2 trap, or as the original was called No. 2, though it had the same spread of jaws as the No. 1 1/2 Oneida Jump. Now the advantages that the Oneida Jump trap has over the long spring trap are many. The most desirable are perhaps the easy manner in which the "jump" trap can be concealed. In fact, a practical set can be made in certain places where it is entirely impracticable to make the set with a long spring trap. Another advantage that the "jump" trap has over the bow or long spring trap is its comparison to the long spring trap in shipping by express. This, if going on a long journey, to your trapping grounds, is not safe by freight, as the trapping season may be over before your traps reach you. Still another advantage is the amount of room saved in packing, for you can pack two of the "jump" traps in the same space required to pack one long spring trap. The writer has had a good deal of experience in this matter and knows the difference in handling the two makes of traps.
Now I do not like to use the double spring "jump" trap where I am trapping, for I might possibly catch a dog or other domestic animal and it is a hard trap to get a live animal out of.
Many, perhaps most trappers use the No. 1 trap for trapping mink, muskrat, marten, etc. The No. 1 Newhouse or Victor is sufficiently strong for these animals but as I have stated, I do not think this the best plan if the trapper is operating on grounds where there are larger animals to be taken, as most frequently the one set can be made to catch several kinds of animals. I have found also that one is more liable to catch the animal by the end of the toes in a No. 1 trap than in the No. 1 1/2, but where one is trapping for the purposes of saving the fox, skunk or other animal alive, then the No. 1 trap should be used, as the animal is not so liable to break a leg or to hurt the foot so badly.
For otter I prefer the single spring Newhouse trap, owing to the fact that it is more easily concealed than the double spring trap. I see that a number of writers think that the No. 5 bear trap should have a larger spread of jaw so as to catch higher on the bear's foot. Now I do not intend to dictate to others as to what kind of a trap they should use, not in the least, for I have my own ideas as to traps and guns as well as the manner of using them. Now as for myself, I think the Newhouse No. 5 bear trap could not be improved, as to spread of jaws. The grasp is just right to catch the bear through the thick of the foot where there is no danger of the bear twisting the foot off. In case where the trap has a spread of jaws sufficient to grasp above the foot and for more space for the bear to place his foot well between the jaws, will say there is plenty of room in the Newhouse No. 5 trap, if the trap is properly set. I also see that some trappers want the swivel in the trap chain 8 or ten inches from the bed piece, or the point of fastening. Now I am somewhat puzzled as to an explanation in this matter, as it seems to me that the swivel will be far less liable to become useless by being twisted or wound around saplings, etc., where the swivel is close to the bed piece than it would be if placed eight or ten inches out in the chain. I prefer to have the swivel in my trap chain placed as close to the trap as possible.
Another thing that I have but little use for is a trap from which the animal must take the bait in order to spring it, for often the animal will go up close enough to a trap to inspect the bait but will not touch it.
I do not think that there should be a latch on any trap, as I think that often the animal's foot is thrown free from the trap, or at least causes many catches by the tips of the toes and the animal escapes, becoming a hard animal to catch thereafter. The animal having a part of the foot resting on the latch and the toes striking the treadle sufficient to unlatch the treadle, the released jaw will throw the latch with the portion of the animal's foot resting on the latch, free from the trap, or at least may often cause a slight catch of the toes or other part of the foot. All that is necessary is to leave an extension to the arm or heel of the treadle to catch over the jaw of the trap. The trap may be made to spring hard or easy by simply raising the pan slightly higher or lowering it to catch farther on to the jaw of the trap more or less as desired.
Now boys, I have given a few of my ideas as to traps, and if any of you have any suggestions to make as to improvements on the animal steel traps, let us hear from you through the columns of the H-T-T. I believe that manufacturers of animal or game traps would be glad to make any improvements on their traps could they be convinced that the suggested improvements were really of any value.
As I get many letters from trappers who are beginners in the business making inquiries about camping and the necessary traps, guns, etc., I will try to give a few practical hints to those who have had but limited experience of trapper's life. While, like the setting of a trap, there is no single code of rules that will answer for all localities and conditions, I will give a few general rules.
The trapper should first try and inform himself of the nature and conditions of the locality where he intends to trap. If the waters are of such a size that a boat can be used to advantage, then the boat becomes a necessity. Now in regard to traps. If the section where you intend to trap has the larger animals like bear, otter, beaver, etc., then the trapper should provide himself with a sufficient number of traps of different sizes as he may be able to tend and do it well.
I would advise to start with, that the trapper has about one-half dozen No. 5 bear traps, one dozen No. 4 wolf and about the same of No. 3. But the greater number of traps will be Numbers 1 1/2 and 2, if of the Jump or Blake & Lamb pattern. If of other patterns would say use the Hawley & Norton Nos. 1 1/2 and 2, say 75 No. 1 1/2 and 25 No. 2. The genuine Newhouse is of course the best long spring trap made, but a little more expensive, and we find that the H. & N. fills the bill. We prefer the B. & L. on account of its lightness and convenience in setting.
Now, if the trapper is trapping where the animals are no larger than fox, raccoon, wildcat, etc., then I want no traps larger than the No. 2 1/2, nor smaller than the No. 1 1/2 Blake & Lamb.
Now about the gun. If you are in a large game country it is quite necessary that you carry a good rifle. I like the Winchester and not of too large a caliber, but if there is no large game in the locality then I think one should have a Stevens pistol, ten-inch barrel, or a Stevens Pocket Shotgun, 15-inch barrel, and in either case have a good holster to carry it in. As for myself I prefer a Pocket Shotgun. It might be well to have a large shotgun in camp. You will also want your belt axe or hatchet and a good heavy sharp axe at the camp.
As for bedding, this will largely depend on what kind of a cabin or camp you have. If you are in a tent, two persons should have not less than six good blankets. If your camp is so situated that you can drive to it with a team or pack horses, then you should have a straw mattress. But if you are in a locality where you can get cedar or hemlock boughs, you should use only the finer boughs. Begin at the foot of the berth and push the larger or butt end of the bough into the ground and then begin the next row so as to lap or shingle onto the first row, and so on until the head of the berth is reached.
If you use a tent, I find that it is a good idea to make a skeleton frame of good heavy poles over the tent and about twelve inches above and around the tent and shingle it well with boughs, so that the snow will not fall directly on the tent. It will be a great help in keeping out the cold. But I think it is best to have at least one good log cabin well chinked, mudded and banked. Always select a spot where it is easy to drain away the surface water on all sides of the camp, and if possible have the main camp close to good pure water which is a great protection against malaria.
If you are doing a stroke of business so that you will need more than one camp, the others need not be quite so tidy as the main camp, for it is not likely that you will occupy them more than a night or two at a time. Your temporary camps need not be larger than 6 x 8 and quite low, as this will save both fuel and bedding. Do not forget to get up a good supply of wood at all the camps before the trapping season is open, for you will find plenty to do after the trapping season opens without cutting wood.
The main camp should be at least 10 x 12 feet inside. A place should be provided for curing furs outside. Furs should never be cured by a fire or in a warm place, for this will have a tendency to curl the ends of the fur and give it a woolly appearance. There can usually be a place fixed either on the outer gable or under the eaves of the cabin to cure the furs.
Now, as to the commissary part. You will, of course, to a great extent select the kind and quantity according to the distance and convenience in getting the grub to camp. The camper will find that the most convenient as well as better satisfaction, as a rule, will be found in taking provisions to camp in a crude state, i.e., wheat flour, corn meal, beans, bacon, with the necessary supply of tea, coffee, sugar, good baking powder, salt, pepper and a quantity of rice. If, as I have before stated, the camp is so located as to be of easy access by wagon, then choose a bill-of-fare to your own liking.
The medicine box should contain a box of good cathartic pills and a quantity of 2-grain quinine tablets, with any other medicine you may wish. Other necessities about the camp are a good supply of strong cord, a few feet of small rope, a yard or two of muslin, a yard of oilcloth.
It may be well to give a few suggestions about a temporary camp for a night, if by chance you should get caught out and unable to reach camp. You should select a place before dark. If a large fallen tree can be found that lies close to the ground where you wish to build the fire it is best. If the log cannot be readily found then select a bank or knoll to build the fire against. First, build the fire out from the log five or six feet where you will make your bed so as to warm the ground. Now set two crotches about four feet high and place a pole in these crotches. Then from this pole place three or four poles, one end on the ground, the other resting on the pole that rests in the crotches. Then place boughs, bark, or anything to break the wind. This shelter will, of course, be placed over the spot where you will make your bed. Now rake the coals and live embers down against the log where you will have the fire for the night. Now place some boughs over the spot where the fire has been and where your bed will be.
With this kind of a camp you can get along through a rather chilly night. You should always carry matches wrapped in waxed paper in three or four different places about your person. You may lose your match safe.
If convenient, when going into camp, you should take several stretching boards for different kinds of fur with you. If not, you can usually find a tree that will split good and you can split some out. It is usually hard to find withes that are long and straight enough to bend so as to form a good shaped stretcher. You should always aim to stretch and cure the furs you catch in the best manner. In skinning you should rip the animal straight from one heel across to the other and close to the roots of the tail on the under side. Work the skin loose around the bone at the base until you can grasp the bone of the tail with the first two fingers of the right hand while you place the bone between the first two fingers of the left hand. Then by pulling you will draw the entire bone from the tail which you should always do.
Sometimes when the animal has been dead some time the bone will not readily draw from the tail. In this case you should cut a stick the size of your finger about eight inches long. Cut it away in the center until it will readily bend so that the two ends will come together. Then cut a notch in each part of the stick just large enough to let the bone of the tail in and squeeze it out. It is necessary to whittle one side of the stick at the notch so as to form a square shoulder.
You should have about three sizes of stretching boards for mink and fox. For mink they should be from 4 1/2 inches down to 3 inches and for fox from 6 1/4 inches down to 5 inches wide, and in length the fox boards may be four feet and the mink boards three feet long. The boards should taper slightly down to within 8 inches of the end for fox and then rounded up to a point. The mink boards should be rounded at 4 or 5 inches from this point. You will vary the shape of the board in proportion to the width. Stretching boards should not be more than 3/8 inch thick. A belly strip the length, or nearly the length, of the boards 1 1/4 inches at the wide end, tapering to a point at the other end and about 1/4 to 3/8 inch thick. Have the boards smooth and even on the edges. Other stretching boards should be made in proportion to the size and shape of the animal whose skin is to be stretched.
You should not fail to remove all the fat and flesh from the skin immediately after the skin is on the board. If a skin is quite wet when taken from the animal it should be drawn lightly on the board until the fur is quite dry. Then turn the skin flesh side out and stretch.
It is always best if you can go into the country where you intend to trap. This is especially important if the ground is a new field to you. During the summer or early fall, acquaint yourself with the streams and the general surroundings, and prepare some of your best sets for the mink and the fox.
If you have a dog of good intelligence take him along, though he may not be broken to the business of trapping. It is many a fox and coon that my dog has saved for me when they have escaped from footing or a broken chain. If the dog is of much intelligence, and you use care in training him, you will soon find that a dog will learn more about trapping than you supposed possible. If you have long lines of traps your dog will inform you more than once that you have passed a trap that chanced to be a little off the main line.
Brother bear trappers, how do you like this style of bear trap (see frontispiece) for toting through the woods three or four miles from camp and at the same time tote a couple of sheep heads or the head of a beef for bait? In times gone by I have carried two or three Newhouse bear traps and bait to bait them with from one to five miles in the woods to pinch old Bruin's toes. Such is a pleasure to any red blooded man, who was born a real lover of the open and the stimulating effect of obtaining that $30 or $40, which the hide and meat of the bear brought, had on the trapper, was nearly equal to the desire to be out in the tall timber.
Now brother bear trappers, these traps that you see on my shoulder are of my own make and are made with a half circle bed piece instead of a straight bed piece, as the ordinary trap is made. I wish to call your attention to how this trap fits the shoulders and how much easier it is to carry than the trap with the straight bed piece and note how much more readily you can get your gun into shape for action. Many a deer has given me the slip before I could drop the bear traps and get my gun ready for action when I have been toting bear traps in the woods. But with this style of trap your gun can be put in operation at once, regardless of the traps.
Boys, another thing that I have learned in the last five years' experience in trapping in the south, (this was written Spring of 1913) is that it requires a trap a size larger to trap small fur bearers in the south than it does in the north, owing to the difference in conditions of the streams and the soil. Well friend Bachelder, there is no use of you and I talking or worrying any more over our bear traps or bear trapping. The gentleman sportsman and his dog has ordered you and I and all other trappers of Pennsylvania for that matter to cast our traps on to the scrap pile and we must submit.
I will say that the conditions and location in which one is to camp makes a great difference in the preparations. If one is just going outside of town to camp for a few days outing, commodities may be to your liking as to quality and quantity. In these days, should the larder run low, it is only necessary for the camper to step out a short distance to a farm house where he is almost sure to find a telephone. In such cases all that the camper has to do is to 'phone to town, ordering his favorite brands delivered to camp, and soon an automobile is on the road laden with supplies, hastening to the campers' relief.
Conditions are different when the camper is far from town; or perhaps miles from a dwelling or perhaps even a public road and the camper is compelled to pack his camp outfit, grub stake and all over miles of rough trail, or it may be no trail at all; then the camper must curtail his desires to their utmost limit.
If the camper is on strange ground, and the camp is to be permanent or for some weeks, it is best for the camper not to be in too big a hurry to select the camping ground, and take up with any sort of a place. It is even better to make a temporary camp and look the locality over and select a place where good water can be had, and wood for fuel is plentiful and near camp. If possible, select a spot in a thicket of evergreen timber of a second growth and out of the way of any large trees that might blow onto the camp.
If the ground is sloping, place your camp parallel with the slope, whether tent or log cabin, as the surface water can more readily be drained off, and not allowed to soak into the ground and cause dampness inside of the tent. A ditch should be dug around the tent to drain all surface water, and eaves so the water will not soak inside. If a log cabin, the dirt from the drain can be thrown up against the logs of the cabin.
If the camper expects to camp through cold and snowy weather, it will pay him to place a ridge pole in crotches placed firmly in the ground. The pole should be a foot above the ridge of the tent, then place poles from the ground, the ends resting on this ridge pole as rafters to a building, then nail a few poles to these rafters sufficient to keep boughs from dropping down onto the tent. The boughs should be of an evergreen variety. This outer covering should be well thatched or covered with these boughs. This extra covering adds greatly to the warmth and comfort of the camp, as it protects from the wind blowing directly on the tent, also keeps the snow from falling onto the tent.
It is also a great convenience if this ridge pole is allowed to extend out three or four feet, and a strip of canvas run over the pole and down to side poles, so as to form a sort of an awning so one can step outside to wash when it is raining without getting wet. It also makes a convenient place to pile a small amount of wood, and will be found useful in many ways such as hanging furs, clothing, etc., out to air.
Do not make your bed on the ground. Build a box bedstead by driving four posts into the ground, then nail pieces across, up about twelve inches from the ground. Lay small poles on these cross pieces, then nail one or two small poles entirely around on the posts above the bottom pieces forming a sort of crib. This crib may be filled first with boughs, then on top of the boughs put a quantity of leaves or grass, when the mattress is lacking. There will also be store room under the bed, which would be wasted if the bed is made on the ground.
Brother camper, when you are going well back into the tall timber where you are obliged to pack your outfit over a rough trail or perhaps no trail at all, do not waste any energy packing canned "air" in the shape of canned fruits. Take your grub in a crude state in the way of flour, beans, lard, bacon or pork, and if fruit is taken, take it in a dried form. Take the necessary supply of tea, coffee, sugar, salt and pepper, also that unavoidable baking powder.
As to preparing an emergency camp for a night, if the weather is cold, and there is snow on the ground, the camper should pick a place where he will be as much sheltered from the cold winds as circumstances will allow and where he can get wood as conveniently as possible.
Select a log (if one can be had) that lays close to the ground. Now, scrape away the snow about six or eight feet back from this log, and where you will have your bed, build a fire, on this space the first thing you do. Then build a cover over this space or fire, by first setting two crotched stakes about four feet apart and five or six feet high, back three feet from the log. Cut a pole, and place it in these crotches and then from this pole lay poles long enough to come back so as to give room for your bed, covering the space where the fire is built; one end of the poles resting on the ground. With evergreen boughs, cover this entire framework, top and two sides--toward the log open.
Now scrape the fire down against the log and proceed to build your fire for the night. Cover the space where the fire was with fine boughs; this is your bed. Take off your coat, and spread it over your shoulders, rather than wear it on you as usual.
When the camper has plenty of time, and a good axe, in building an open campfire the thing to do is to cut two logs six or eight inches in diameter and three feet long and place them at right angles with the back log, and three or four feet apart; then lay the wood across these logs. This will give a draft underneath the wood and cause the fire to burn much better than where the wood lays close to the ground.
A friend by the name of Dingman invited me to come to his camp on More's Run, a tributary of the Sinnamahoning. This was something like forty years ago, when deer were plentiful and several men in this section made it a business to hunt for the money that there was in it, and Nathan Dingman was one of those men. It was about eight miles from my place to Mr. Dingman's camp.
One morning after we had a fall of snow, I packed my knapsack with as much grub stake as I was able to carry, with my gun and blanket, and started over the hill to Mr. Dingman's camp. After I had crossed the divide, I did not go far before I began to see deer tracks. There was no road or trail down the run, and the run was pretty well filled with timber. I had about all that I could handle without deer tracks, but when I was within about a mile of Mr. Dingman's camp, I came onto the trail of several deer that had only been gone a few minutes. I could not stand it longer, so I hung my pack and blanket up in a tree and took my track back up the stream until I was quite sure that I was well out of range of the deer, and then climbed the ridge until I was near the top of the hill and on advantageous ground.
The direction of the trail of the deer where it crossed the stream led me to think that the deer were going south, or down the ridge but on the contrary they had turned to the right and up the ridge. I had not gone far along the ridge before I began a sharp lookout. I suddenly found the deer lying in a thicket of low laurel. They broke from cover at a breakneck speed. I fired both barrels at them with the best aim that I was able to get, and had the satisfaction of seeing one of the deer, a good sized doe, stumble and partly fall, then hobble on in the direction that the other had gone.
It was nearly sundown and I only followed the trail a short distance when I could plainly see that the deer had a foreleg broken, and she soon left the trail of the others, and went down the hill all alone. Knowing that the wounded deer would soon lay down if not disturbed. I left the trail, went back, got my pack, blanket and went on down the creek to Mr. Dingman's camp. I found Mr. Dingman about to sit down to a supper of roast potatoes, venison and other good things to be found in abundance in the woods in those days.
The next morning we were out at daybreak after the wounded doe. Mr. Dingman said that when the doe was started up that she would come to water, and that she would stop on the creek below where I had left the trail, which led down the hill until in sight of the creek, when it turned to the right, then went back up the hill only a few yards to the right of her trail where she had gone down.
When I saw what the doe had done, I thought to myself, old lady, you are well onto the game, and we will have lots of sport before we get you. I was well aware that she had seen me when I passed by on her trail where she had gone down the hill, and thinking that she would go to the creek below where Mr. Dingman was and told him the game the doe was playing. He said that she would come to water at the point just below the camp, and that he would go down there and watch, while I should follow the track through. I told Mr. Dingman that I was afraid that we were too late, and that the doe had already gone out, that she had made her bed so that she could watch her trail where she went down the hill, and had slipped out after I had gone down the hill on her trail.
Mr. Dingman thought that he could get the runway before she would get through, even if she had gone out when I came through on her trail down the hill. In hopes that the deer had not taken the trail and lit out when I came through the hill, I worked my way cautiously back up the hill, only occasionally going in sight of the trail so as to keep her course, but as I feared, when I was about halfway up the hill, I found her bed, but the doe was gone. I took the trail and followed it up the hill until she struck the trail of the deer that she was with when I first started them, and instead of going down the ridge, she took the back trail of the other deer. I followed it back until near where I had wounded her, when she again broke down the hill and crossed the creek near where I first found their trail, and had gone back onto the same ridge that she had come from.
Now the only thing for me to do was to leave the trail and go after Mr. Dingman again. When I found him and we got back to camp, it was about noon, so we got a warm dinner before continuing the chase. When we got up to where I had left the trail, we held council and made our plans for the next move, and decided that as the old lady was continually doing the unexpected, we would follow her track, one going on each side of the trail a few yards from it.
We had only gone a short distance up the hill when we found the old lady's bed, where she had laid down, so that she could watch back on her trail, where she had come down on the opposite hillside. We did not go far when the trail turned to the left and went up the side of the ridge toward the head of the creek. We continued along the trail one on either side and soon we came to where a large hemlock tree had fallen parallel with the side of the hill. Mr. Dingman was on the upper side and above the fallen tree, while the deer tracks led away below the tree. All of a sudden I heard the report of Mr. Dingman's rifle, so I stood still for a minute, and hearing nothing more I went to see the cause of the shooting. The doe had gone beyond the fallen tree, then turned back and went about midway of the tree, on the upper side and lay down. Mr. Dingman caught a glimpse of the old lady as she went out, but did not catch her.
We did not follow the doe far from where she lay behind the fallen tree, for we crossed the trail of a bear going west, and partly in the direction of that of the wounded deer, which continued to work her cards on us all afternoon without our getting sight of her. At dusk we trailed her into a small thicket at the edge of the farm owned by a man by the name of Foster, at the extreme head of the run.
As it was too late in the day to do any more with the old doe, we concluded to go to Mr. Foster's and stay over night, and take the trail early in the morning. It was snowing a little and we thought that the thicket would be an easy place to find our game, should it snow enough to cover the tracks. In the morning when we got up, we found six or eight inches of snow on the ground, that had fallen during the night. We had an early breakfast, and started out to again play the game with the broken legged doe.
Before we got to the edge of the woods, we struck the trail of some animal, that had gone across the field in the early part of the night before it had snowed much. We were not positive what sort of an animal it was, whether man or beast. The trail was leading straight across the field without a curve in it, and was making straight to a laurel patch that was one and a half miles away on the Taggart farm, less than a mile below Coudersport.
Mr. Dingman said that it was a bear. I admitted that it was a bear all right, but replied that I would say it was making for the Adirondack Mountains in New York, rather than the laurel patch on the Taggert farm. We did not have far to go to make sure, and a good part of the distance was across farms, so we concluded to hunt bear a while, and give the old doe a rest for a short time. As Mr. Dingman said, the bear made straight for the laurel patch.
There was not more than 15 or 20 acres in the patch, so we thought that we would circle it and make sure that the bear was still in the laurel. We found that the bear was there all right, so Mr. Dingman selected a place where he thought the bear would come out when he was routed from his nest, while I was to follow the trail and drive out the bear. I followed until near the center of the patch, when I came onto a small open place forty or fifty feet square. This open space was covered with a heavy growth of wild grass which partly held the snow from getting close to the ground, and I could see the trail of the bear through this grass and loose snow very plain until nearly the opposite side of the open space, and there I could see a bunch of snow. I was sure that it was the bear that made the bunch.
I thought the matter over for a minute, then concluded to back out and go after Mr. Dingman, and see what he thought would be best in order to make a sure thing of Bruin's capture. Mr. Dingman thought the best thing to do was to go up town and get plenty of help so as to thoroughly surround the laurel, and make sure of Bruin. I objected, as I thought it best to try our own luck, and if we failed we could still get plenty of help. We followed my track back to where I had turned, and concluded to both fire at the bunch at the same time, hit or miss as luck would have it. When we fired at the bunch there was a shaking of snow, and bruin rolled out but was unable to rise to his feet. On examination we found that one ball had entered his shoulder. It was a short job to get bruin out to the road, and take him up to town where we sold him to Mr. Stebbins, a merchant, and then we made tracks back to see if we could find the broken legged doe. We found by circling the thicket that she was there, and we had the good luck to get her. We drove her out, and thus ended one of the liveliest day's sport that we ever had.
Now, we will say first that there is as much or more difference in the man who handles the dog as there is in the different breeds of dogs. I have heard men say that they wanted no dog on the trap line with them, and that they didn't believe that any one who did want a dog on the trap line knew but very little about trapping at best.
Now those are the views and ideas of some trappers, while my experience has led me to see altogether different. One who is so constituted that they must give a dog the growl or perhaps a kick every time they come in reach, will undoubtedly find a dog of but little use on the trap line. I have known some dogs to refuse to eat, and would lay out where they could watch the direction in which their master had gone and piteously howl for hours. I have seen other dogs that would take for the barn or any other place to get out of the way of the first sight or sound of their master. This man's dog is usually more attached to a stranger than to his master. The man who cannot treat his dog as a friend and companion will have good cause to say that a dog is a nuisance on the trap line.
I have seen men training dogs for bird hunting, who would beat the dog most cruelly and claim that a dog could not be trained to work a bird successfully under any other treatment. Though I have seen others train the same breed of dogs to work a bird to perfection and their most harsh treatment that they would use would be a tap or two with a little switch. I will say that one who cannot understand the wag of a dog's tail, the wistful gaze of the eyes, the quick lifting of the ears, the cautious raising of a foot, and above all, treat his dog as a friend, need not expect his dog to be but little else than a nuisance on the trap line.
Several years ago I had a partner who had a dog--part stag hound and the other part just dog, I think. One day he, my partner, asked if I would object to his bringing the dog to camp, saying that his wife was going on a visit and he had no place to leave the dog. I told him that if he had a good dog I would be glad to have the dog in camp. In a day or two pard went home and brought in the dog. Well, when he came, the dog was following along behind his master with tail and ears drooping, and looking as though he had never heard a kind word in his life. I asked if the dog was any good and he replied that he did not know how good he was. I asked the name of the dog. He said, "Oh, I call him Pont." I spoke to the dog, calling him by name. The dog looked at me wistfully, wagging his tail. The look that dog gave me said as plain as words that that was the first kind word he had ever heard.
We went inside and the dog started to follow, when his master in a harsh voice said "get out of here." I said, "Where do you expect the dog to go?" I then took an old coat that was in the camp, placed it in a corner and called gently to Pont, patted the coat and told Pont to lay down on the coat which the dog did. I patted the dog, saying, "that is a good place for Pont," and I can see that wistful gaze that dog gave me now. After we had our supper I asked my partner if he wasn't going to fix Pont some supper. "Oh, after awhile I will see if I can find something for him." I took a biscuit from the table, spread some butter on it, called the dog to me, broke the biscuit in pieces and gave it to the dog from my hand, then I found an old basin that chanced to be about the camp and fixed the dog a good supper.
After the dog had finished his supper I went to the coat in the corner, spoke gently to Pont, patted the coat and told Pont to lay down on the coat. That was the end of that, Pont knew his place and took it without further trouble.
The next morning when we were about ready to start out on the trap line I asked pard what he intended to do with Pont. He said that he would tie him to a tree that stood against the shanty close to the door. We were going to take different lines of traps. I said, "What is the harm of Pont going with me?" "All right, if you want him but I don't want any dog with me." I said, "Am (that was pard's given name, for short), I do not believe that dog wants to go with you any more than you want him." Am's reply was that he guessed he would go all right if he wanted him. I said, "Am, just for shucks, say nothing to the dog and see which one he will follow." So we stepped outside the shack and the dog stood close to me.
I said, "Go on Am, and we will see who the dog will follow." He started off and the dog only looked at him. Am stopped and told the dog to come on. The dog got around behind me. A said, "If I wanted you to come you would come or I would break your neck." I said, "No, Am, you won't break Pont's neck when I am around, it would not look nice."
I started on my way, Pont following after I had gone a little ways. I spoke to Pont, patted him on the head and told him what a good dog he was. He jumped about and showed more ways than one how pleased he was. He showed plainly the disgust he had for his master.
It so happened that the first trap that I came to was a trap set in a spring run, and it had a coon in it. I allowed Pont to help kill the coon, and after the coon was dead I patted Pont and told him what great things we had done in capturing the coon, and Pont showed what pride he took in the hunt, so much so that he did not like to have Am go near the pelt. I saw from the very first day out that all Pont needed was kind treatment and proper training to make a good help on the trap line.
I was careful to let him know what I was doing when setting a trap, and when he would go to smell at the bait after a trap had been set, I would speak to him in a firm voice and let him know that I did not approve of what he was doing. When making blind sets, I took the same pains to show and give him to understand what I was doing. I would sometimes, after giving him fair warning, let him put his foot into a trap. I would scold him in a moderate manner and release him. Then all the time when I was resetting the trap I would talk trap to him, and by action and word, teach him the nature of the trap. Mr. Trapper, please do not persuade yourself to believe that the intelligent dog cannot understand if you go about it right.
In two weeks Pont had advanced so far in his training that I no longer had to pay any attention to him on account of the traps and the third day that Pont was with me he found a coon that had escaped with a trap nearly two weeks before. My route called me up a little draw from the main stream, and I had not gone far up this when Pont took the trail of some animal and began working it up the side of a hill. I stood and watched him until the trail took him to an old log, when Pont began to snuff at a hole in the log, and he soon raised his head and gave a long howl, as much as to say "he is here and I want help." After running a stick in the hole I soon discovered that the log was hollow. I took my belt axe and pounded along on the log until I thought I was at the right point and then chopped a hole in the log. As good luck would have it, I made the opening right on the coon, and almost the first thing I saw on looking into the log was the trap. Pont soon had the coon out, and when I saw that it was the coon that had escaped with our trap, I gave Pont praise for what he had done, petting him and telling him of his good deed, and he seemed to understand it all.
Not long after this Am came into camp at night and reported that a fox had broken the chain on a certain trap and gone off with the trap, saying that he would take Pont in the morning and see if he could find the fox. In the morning when we were ready to go Am tried to have Pont follow him but it was no go, Pont would not go with him. Then Am put a rope onto him and tried to lead him but Pont would sulk and would not be led. Then Am lost his temper and wanted to break Pont's neck again. I said that I did not like to have Pont abused and that I would go along with him. When we came to the place where the fox had escaped with the trap Am at once began to slap his hands and hiss Pont on. Pont only crouched behind me for protection. I persuaded Am to go on down the run and look at the traps down that way while Pont and I would look after the escaped fox.
As soon as Am was gone I began to look about where the fox had been caught and search for his trail, and soon Pont began to wag his tail. I began to work Pont's way and said, "has he gone that way?" Pont gave me to understand that the fox had gone that way and that he knew what was wanted. The trail soon left the main hollow and took up a little draw. A little way up this we found where the fox had been fast in some bushes but had freed himself and he had left and gone up the hillside. Pont soon began to get uneasy, and when I said, "hunt him out," away he went, and in a few minutes I heard Pont give a long howl and I knew that he had holed his game. When I came up to Pont he was working at a hole in some shell rocks. I pulled away some loose rocks and could see the fox, and we soon had him out and Pont seemed more pleased over the hunt than I was. There was scarcely a week that Pont did not help us out on the trap line.
Not infrequently did Pont show me a coon den. I had some difficulty in teaching Pont to let the porcupines alone, but after a time he learned that they were not the kind of game that we wanted, and he paid no more attention to them.
I have had many different dogs on the trap line with me. I can say that to any one who can understand "dog's language," has a liking for a dog and has a reasonable amount of patience and is willing to use it, will find a well trained dog of much benefit on the trap line, and often a more genial companion than some partners. But if one is so constituted that he must give his dog a growl or a kick every time he comes in reach, and perhaps only give his dog half enough to eat and cannot treat a dog as his friend, then I say, leave the dog off the trap line.
I have heard many hunters say that they had never had a case of buck fever, and that they could shoot at a deer with as little emotion under all circumstances as they could at a target. Now this is not the case with me, for the conditions under which I am working makes all the difference imaginable with my nervous system. I never saw but one place that I did not get the buck fever when deer hunting and that was in Trinity and Humboldt counties, California. There I saw deer so thick and tame that it was no more exciting than it would be to go into a drove of sheep in a pasture and shoot sheep. If by chance you failed to hit the deer the first shot it was only a matter of a few minutes when you would have another opportunity to kill your deer. So there was no cause to get the fever, but such has not been the case in Eastern States, for many years at least.
About 1880, a man by the name of Corwin and I were camping on the Jersey Shore turnpike in Pennsylvania. We had just gone into camp and as I usually make it a point to first get plenty of wood cut for the camp at night, so that when I come home in the evening I will not have to go out and cut wood, I had been cutting wood and fixing up all day until four o'clock in the afternoon, when I suggested to Mr. Corwin that we go out and see if we could find some signs and locate the deer so that we would know where to look for them early the next morning. We followed down a ridge for some distance without seeing any signs of deer but about the time that it was getting dark so that we could not see very good and we were about to go to camp, we came onto a trail of a number of deer. As it was so dark we left the trail and went to camp being careful not to start or alarm the deer. The next morning when we got up we found that a snow had fallen of some 8 or 10 inches and knowing that this snow would cover the trail of the deer so deep that there would be no following it until we could start them out of their beds, we concluded that one of us should go down the ridge opposite or west of the ridge where we had found the trail of the deer. It was decided that I should take the ridge opposite where the deer were thought to be, and Mr. Corwin was to warn me by firing two shots in rapid succession if he started the deer without getting a shot at them.
I was familiar with the woods and knew about where the deer would run when started up from any particular point. I had gone down the ridge until I thought that I was below the point where the deer would have crossed had they done so during the night, or if Mr. Corwin should start them. I had neither heard anything from Mr. Corwin nor seen anything of the deer trail. I had given up hope of Mr. Corwin starting the deer so they would be likely to come my way.
I had struck the trail of a single deer that was going down a short sawtooth point or a short spur of the main ridge. The track had been made during the night when it was still snowing and in some places it was hard to follow the trail owing to so much snow falling. The track led down this spur in the direction of low hemlocks. I was working my way very carefully thinking that the deer had gone down into those low hemlocks to get shelter from the storm and were lying down in the thicket. The thicket was just over a little cone or ridge so that I could not see the surface of the ground and I was dead sure that I would catch my game lying in his bed.
In a moment a dozen deer came into sight as suddenly as though they had come up out of the ground and I was suddenly taken with one of the worst fevers that any man ever had. I at once began firing into the bunch. The deer seemingly did not notice the report of the gun but kept steadily on their trail. I knew the condition I was in and that I was shooting wide of the mark. I then singled out one of the largest deer, a good sized buck, and tried to pick out a spot on the back of his shoulders as though I was shooting at a target. I could not keep the gun within range of the deer by ten feet, so when I thought the gun had jumped into line, I pulled the trigger. The deer made no alteration in its course or speed but kept steadily bounding along. The deer were not more than forty yards from me. I dropped on one knee and leaned the gun across my knee, grabbed a handful of snow and jammed it into my face, then placed the gun to my face and began firing at the deer again with no better results.
When the bunch of deer were nearly a hundred yards away and they had all passed over the brow of the hill, except one large doe that was a little behind the rest, the fever left me as suddenly as it came on. I pulled the gun onto her and fired. She staggered, gave a lunge down the hill and fell dead. I could have told within an inch of where the ball struck her before I went to the deer. I could not have told within fifty feet of where my other shots went.
I followed my drove of deer a short distance to make sure that I had not wounded any of them and then I dragged the doe down into the hollow to dress and hang up. Pretty soon Mr. Corwin came to me and seeing only the one deer asked me if that was the only one I had killed with all that shooting. Mr. Corwin said that he had counted nine shots that I had fired. When I told him the story he had a hearty laugh of half an hour and said that I was lucky that I did not die in a fit.
Now boys, you who have never had the buck fever can laugh at me all you like, but those who are over fond of the chase and get the buck fever will sympathize with me. Had I been expecting and looking for this drove of deer at the time instead of only one deer I should not have been attacked with this case of buck fever.
Now, I will tell you of another case of buck fever from a cause entirely different from that just related. I was following the trail and there was just enough snow on the ground to make the best of still hunting. The wind was blowing just strong enough to make a noise in the tree tops overhead to drown any noise that the hunter might make by stepping on a dry limb, and every once in a while there would come a snow squall that would be so dense that you could see scarcely fifty feet.
I had trailed the doe along the side of the hill for some distance. She was feeding alone and I was working along very carefully, keeping along the ridge several yards above the trail, to always be on advantage ground. I had not seen the trail of any other deer during the morning although it was in the height of the mating season, or as us common folks call it, the running season. I was trailing the doe along through a small basin where the timber was nearly all hardwood, beech and maple, and the woods were very open. I was quite positive that the doe was not far in advance for she had just been feeding on some moss from a limb that had blown down from a tree and the tracks were very fresh. About this time one of those snow squalls had come up. I was standing by a large maple tree waiting for the squall to pass by so that I could look the ground over well before I went any farther.
After the squall had passed I looked the ground over closely but could see nothing of my deer. Forty or fifty yards farther along the side of the hill and below me there was a very large maple tree which had turned up by the roots. This tree hid from view a piece of ground close to the log. I could see that the trail led directly up to the tree. I could see a slight break in the snow on top of the log that I took to be made by the leg of the deer in jumping the log. I could see nothing of the trail beyond the tree so I worked very cautiously along until I could see past the root of the tree and as I suspected, there stood my game with head down, apparently asleep and standing broadside to me. I drew the gun onto a point just back of her shoulders and let go and the deer dropped almost in her tracks.
I cut the deer's throat and began to skin out the foreparts. I had only partly gotten my work done when another one of those snow squalls came along. I was bending over the deer, busy at work when I heard a slight noise, and straightened up to see what had caused it. I looked none too soon to save myself from a terrible thrust from the horns of a large buck deer, for as I straightened up the deer shot past me like a shot from a gun, barely missing me and landed some six or eight feet beyond me. I had stood my gun against the log 8 or 10 feet from me. I sprang for my gun but I was trembling so that I could do nothing and I could scarcely stand on my feet. The buck stood for a moment looking back over his shoulders. Every hair on his back stood up like the hair on the back of an angry dog and I well remember the color of his eyes which were as green as grass.
The deer stood and gazed at me for a moment then slowly walked off. The deer had gone some distance before I could control myself sufficiently to shoot. The buck had followed the trail of the doe up to the fallen tree and had caught me skinning her and it angered him. Instead of running off he was determined to attack me and the only thing that saved me from being severely hurt was my straightening up just at the right time to miss the thrust of the buck and the deer's missing me was what caused him to leave me.
This was the worst case of buck fever that I have ever had and I do not care to ever experience a case of that kind again.