Black Beaver Part 1

Black Beaver.

by James Campbell Lewis and George Edward Lewis.

THE AUTHOR'S EXCUSE.

I am both sorry and glad to inform my readers--that I can neither read nor write.

It would seem absurd for a blind man to study the stars, Or for a deaf man to study music; so it might seem to you absurd for a man who cannot write to write a book. But I have an excuse for writing these events.

The President of Mexico; and the Governor of Alaska together with several hundreds between, equally as popular have urged me to write my history. I am sorry I cannot write this with my own fingers but I have a subst.i.tute in my old back-woods chum--The Kidd. Who by the way--neither writes very flourishing, because he like myself has done the most of his writing with his six-shooter; because you know this a more expressive way of talking and a more impressive way of writing. I have a brother who is a real educated gentleman, he tried to dissuade me from publishing my history because I think he is afraid he will be outshone by literary merit. I have no ambition to outshine him, nor William Shakespere nor any other erudite. I have a very limited vocabulary, and since swearing and smoking are not allowed in print, I shall have to loose the biggest half of that. I shall omit foreign language, I could a.s.sault you with Mex--or Siwash but I fear you could not survive the battery. So I shall confine myself to simple speech, such as I have used in all lands. From Gotch my bronco to Arctic my dog. It has served me since I was six summers old It served me amid the bells of Peru and then afar amid the Agate Eyed squaws of The Kuskokwim; and this ought to be a good excuse.--Yours truly

J.C. LEWIS.

INTRODUCTORY.

I have undertaken the arduous task of rewriting that which was never written. My charge was "fix it up but do not change it." These words were hurled at me one morning at four o'clock in the month of April, as my big brother boarded the Overland Limited bound for the Iditarod Alaska. He had in that far-away region five-hundred skins in cache which he had taken from the backs of the costiliest animals that ran in northland world. In various parts of Alaska Black Beaver had treasures which he was now intent upon gathering to fit up an outfit to be known as "The Arctic Alaskan Educational Exhibition" Perhaps no other man in this country can tell such amusing and beneficial stories about travels, fatigue and furs As the Author of this book. This was the creative force which suggested the organization of this party. Black Beaver has traveled as no other man ever traveled in Alaska, four times in as many years he crossed the entire country by dog-team in a diagonal way from Dawson to Point Barrow and from Gnome to The mouth of the Mackinzie river. Being able to speak several indian dialects, he was able converse with Siwash, Mucklock, Malimouth and other types getting the most valuable kind of information. You have never read a book written by a trapper. Usually some smooth gent makes up a romance and puts them in other mouths--but this is not true of this book. It is a true experience of the life and labors of the Author. Respectfully submitted Sept 1911.

GEO. EDWARD LEWIS.

BLACK BEAVER THE TRAPPER.

At the age of four years I began to pick up arms against small birds and animals. At the age of five I began to trap around my father's corn-shocks. When I reached my sixth year my father bought me a dog and he was my constant companion for many years. At the age of five years I began to make Bows and arrows, and cross guns, likewise sling shots. My first experience was with by bros, George and Lee in killing a woodchuck. And from this time my adventures began to multiply. All kinds of small animals fell before my accurate aim.

My adventursome father had crossed the great plains as early as 1846. He was thrilled to the core with the bold and desperate experiences of the wild western world. On his way he met and formed the acquaintance Of several of the noted trappers and explorers, as well as the acquaintance of the most daring and dangerous savages that ever rode the arena of the Great American Desert.

My chief joy from in fancy was to have my father tell me his dangerous travels and exploits in the early west. I was continually begging my older brother to read about Kit Carson Daniel Boone and other pioneers.

At the age of seven years I took a notion that I wanted a gun. Bows and arrows, cross-bows sling-shots knives and hatchets were too tame for me.

I sought an occasion when my father was away, to get from my mother the needed information, how to load and discharge a gun. One day when all were away I stole my fathers gun. It was a double barreled muzzle loader, one barrel shot and the other rifle. I had quite an experience--I saw a partridge just as I entered the woods budding in the top of an old birch tree. I leveled the gun up against an old ash tree and fired I had never before fired a gun, I held it rather loosely aginst my shoulder and the recoil lamed my arm and bloodeyed my pug noose. But this was soon forgotten when I saw I had plugged my meat. In haste I began to load to prepare for another bird--I seized The patch put mr ball on the patch took mr ramrod and rammed home the ball alas!

just as I was pounding her home I remembered I had forgotten something quite necessary in loading a gun--it was the powder. I was in a terrorable fix then--I first thought I would hasten home put up the gun and let father get out of the fix the best he could. But after taking a second thought I concluded that I would not be a whit behind the Father of his country--but while I had stolen I could not tell a lie--so I repeated the reckless boy's adage--Scolding don't hurt you whipping don't last long killing they dare not"--After considering the whole predicament--I concluded that I rather have a flogging than deny my pluck and luck by killing my game. So I related to father my deed; he simply laughed and took the gun in the back yard p.r.i.c.ked some fine powder in the tube--put on a cap and shot the ball out slick and easy.

The winter of my sixth year I had planed on trapping small fur bearing game--but my parents had planned on me going to school. So they bought me some books and the first of October I was drilled off to school. I soon got into trouble at school and the third day traded off my books for an old gun. the next day I started for school as usual, but after I was over the hill I turned from the path of duty and education for the adventurous path of hunting and trapping. I would go to the place I had hidden my gun the night before and go into the woods and spend the day returning as school let out. I worked this for about three weeks without being discovered. I had an older brother who suspected me and finally he found me in the woods, took my gun from me and broke it around a tree--he did this because the gun was unsafe it was all tied up with wire and strings to bind the barrel to the stock--my first gun was a bloomer.

The following fall I killed my first c.o.o.n. My brother Lee who is two years older than myself and I were shooting at a mark in the wood-shed one rainy fall day, and lo and behold to our surprise a c.o.o.n came walking in on us--instantly we flew at the fellow, I, with an ax he with a club--the c.o.o.n lasted about two seconds--the yells and disturbance brought my father and brother to the scene, I was declaring that I had killed it and my Brother Lee was making the same statements both of us were talking at the limit of lung power--when my brother who was older discovered that there was a ribbon around the c.o.o.ns neck and a gold ring attached showing us this he said "this is a pet c.o.o.n." At once we reversed our arguments each declaring that we did not kill the c.o.o.n.

The beginning of my eight year I coaxed father to allow me to spend the winter trapping with a man named Walker on the head waters of the Manistee river. finally he consented and I was the happiest boy on earth. Hastily I made my toilet for the winter and set out on snow shoes the middle of November. After several days of brisk and difficult walking we reached Wild goose creek. Here we made a camp and began to set traps. I had no gun for it was intended that I was to cook and skin game. This proved to be my first experience with larger game. Five days after we struck camp we caught a black bear in a deadfall. It was here at wild goose creek that I first began running trap lines under an old rocky mountain trapper. And here where I also learned to skin, bait traps, make dead falls and cut and sew up my own clothes, make snow shoes and paddle canoes, build camps and learn the various tricks of indians and trappers, also how to doctor myself when sick and to avoid the dangers of the wilderness. All too soon the mid-winter came and there being no high line game to trap The trapper made up his mind to move homeward. On the sixteenth day of January we began our march for a town called South Boardman. We had to pack about thirty pounds apiece it was thirty five miles to our destination. The first night we camped in the snow the next evening a half hour after dark we reached town; here we took a train for home and reached it about mid-night. My father divided the fur taking my share for his pay. The balance of the winter I hunted and trapped near home--and when spring came I hunted ginseng and later picked huckle berries meanwhile I learned to speak the Chippewa language.

I sold my gingseng and berries for more money than my father knew of and bought a good gun and two revolvers together with considerable amunition. This year I was in the Company of my Brother Lee and to-gether we practiced with guns and revolvers till we thought we were the best shots in the Co. Our rapid firing often aroused the settlers, and they began to talk about us saying "we were growing up to be outlaws." This greatly pleased us. Just befor I was nine years old my folks got it into their heads to send me to school agin, thinking I might be Henry Clay or Govener Mud or some other larkie--as usual I raked up a row and the teacher had us expelled for carrying six shooters in our dinner pails.

When we came home that day my father and mother held a long council over us and finally called us in and father said--"I have tried to make something out of you but you will never be anything but a blockheads--and I might as well make good indians out of you as poor ones." so he allowed us to use our guns smoke and chew rag-weed to our hearts content. My next experience was with two of the best trappers that ever bent steel in Michigan. Solitary Parson and Frank Johnson. We were out three months and made good hauls, they gave me one fourth of the fur, which was a neat sum. I then spent several weeks at target practice, my daily stunt was splitting bullets on the bit of an ax forty feet away. I soon became the crack rifle shot in the country. One evening I tied two hills of corn together while father was milking and when father started for the house his toe taught in the loup up in the air went the milk down on the ground came Father with about twelve quarts of milk running down his back.

This was enough for father he had ben out of patience with me many times: but now this act provoked him so he ordered me away from home. I had few clothes and no satched. I was the baby of the family, yet not A very delicate sample of a baby. I had the fire burning for adventure in my young bosom, I bade my mother good bye as I went to bed, she never knew how long it would be till she kissed to sleep those black marbles, as she used to call my eyes; I arose at about one oclock in the morning and roused up my brother picked up our kit and set out for the Twin bridges of the Boardman fifteen miles away.

I was still in my ninth year and my brother was eleven, we camped up in the swamp nearly all summer then in the fall hunted and trapped on the Cedar river. When spring time came in we sold our furs for $200,00 and took the Train for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

We stopped at the mining districts where there were scores of Cornish Miners. There was a widow there with whom my brother lived and worked all the time for about two years. He was quite a musician this widow bought him a high grade Stewart Banjo and then she fell in love first with his playing and then with his banjo and lastly of all with him.

Love stole my partner. I have had many but none like Lone Lee The Mountain Musician. After loosing my Pal I began to learn to face the wilderness alone. Nero my Dog, my a.s.sociate from infancy was killed by a wolf and I was left alone.

When whiteman seemed to fail fate overcame me in the form of an indian.

This indian was the famous Shopnegon. We trapped together on the Indian river following down into lower michigan we also trapped the dead stream, Ausable, Tobacco and into the Houghton lake country here Shopnegon christened me as Black Beaver for I had actually trapped one.

this was the only Black Beaver Shopnegon had ever seen and the only one I ever saw and I have seen some.

This was the winter of my tenth year I was big healthy and strong. I had never been sick except having the Pneumonia and occasionally a bad cold.

Early in the spring we broke camp bid each other goodbye I loaded my pack and furs weighing about forty pounds and started for Fife Lake. I had no intention of seeing my folks but in Fife Lake was another attraction which I will come to later. I had to get home about fifty miles to cover. the way was beset with tangled forests, swollen streams, melting snows not a blaze to mark the way. I had lived on mushrat for forty days and the first day out I shot a doe, and added about ten pounds to my load, this meat was quite an improvement on rat. the evening of the third day I camped on Hopkins creek under an old hemlock tree. My dogs kept me awake nearly all night with their barks and growls, once I was awakened by a twig falling in my face, in the morning I was at once attracted by a sliding noise which I soon discovered to be a Lynx bracing to leap, I slung my gun to my shoulder and the lynx was past danger instantly, I afterward learned this Lynx had killed a boy in the neighborhood by the name of Harrison.

Adding another pelt to my pack I reached Fife Lake just before Sundown and waited for dark before entering town. After dark I went straight to the home of My old friend who was not so aged as I.W.O. Clark. his mother had died meanwhile the only thing which had restrained him from joining me the year before. I did not wish to show up in Northtown so Willie sold my fur for me and we equiped ourselves for the Lewis and Clark Expedition. In august of that same year after our money was all gone but eleven cents: and I had not been seen by anybody who knew me Clark and I walked over to Kingsley ten miles away carrying our only possessions in the world, we had decided to go westward where we might hunt trap and enjoy ourselves unmolested, the evening found us waiting for a freight train which we were to take; hoping to hobo our way to Denver Colorado.

Westward Bound

It is a long way from Kingsley Michigan to Denver Colorado. But we covered the ground in three weeks. We took slideing door palace cars all the way, and slept nights covered with an evening news, begged handouts at back doors; and ate our meals with the widow green. I was coming eleven Clark was just past seven, two old and experienced duffers to go west for freedom.

Before leaving Michigan I formed the acquaintance of Waterloo chief of the Potowatimies. He had taught me many things which were to be of great service in the west. When we arrived in Denver we were not hailed as some great individuals are but we overlooked that--(since then We have been well used in Denver) We secured a lunch took our truck and struck northward. The following day we pulled up to a farmers house by the name of Straub. He had two bears he had caught, and hired us to tame them. I guess he thought our appearance would tame a Rhinoceros. I a.s.sumed the responsibility--and gave him the threadbare recipe "No cure no pay"

Together we did the job in two weeks and for our service Mr. Straub gave us some new clothes, our board and $25,00 From here we steered our way to North Platte Nebraska. I hired out to John McCoullough. to herd cattle, and sent my son Willie as I called him and have ever since--to school in North Platte.

The Cow-boys of that region usually had great sport with tenderfeet; but they were great mind readers and pa.s.sed me off as experienced, owing to my age and accurate shooting. That year I learned to ride a horse, in fact paid more attention to that then I did to herding cattle; but I took my pay without any remorse of conscience.

The following year The Kid and I planned to go on a trapping expedition to the Rocky mountains. So as luck would have it we accidentally fell in with two hale fellows, inured to hardships, careless as the law allowed, and prime always for sport and adventure. Both of them could shoot well and ride like Mazzeppas. They also understood the plains and mountains but were tyros at trapping.

We purchased four wild horses and on the first day of October started for Cola with covered wagons. This was my first experience over the plains in a real prairie schooner. We followed the south Platte to Sterling And from there we struck west and went through the p.a.w.nee pa.s.s.

Then we Took the old gun-barrel road back to Colorado. We camped one evening in Rattlesnake gulch; about midnight I heard a buzz I arose rather suddenly layed back the cover and saw within six inches of my son's face a large old diamond back rattler. It was close and short work to dispatch him but I succeeded, the report of my gun brought all hands to their feet they examined the headless reptile, and were soon again lost in slumber. after while we arrived safely at Fort Collins bought a supply of food and other necessaries and took the trail for the head waters of La-Cash-a-po-da. We reached Pan-handle creek about twenty-five miles from Log-Cabin Post Office.

In due time we pitched camp and set our traps. One line of traps extended to Larmie river; And the other to the forks of the Cache LaPuche. We set for gray wolves, mountain lion, grizzley bear, mink, otter and foxes. We had good luck and made a large catch of fur and drew some large bounties. The following summer we sold off our whole kit to some trappers who went to Jackson hole, and we took our little stake of $2,122,00 and spent our summer in Chicago, Denver and St. Louis.

The next winter Clark and I: for we were alone again, went to New Windsor and trapped Rat on Storms Lake. We also caught a lot of skunk and coyotes, with fair success we continued til spring and took all our fur nearly $3,000,00 worth and sold to different houses in the East.

Then we bought good clothes, I managed to visit parks and ride shoot the shoots Conversed with Indians and enquired of strangers concerning good trapping grounds through the summer--while Clark studied so he could do our writing. That winter we trapped in Pine Bluffs Wyoming. For Coyotes, Rat and skunk, But we grew tired toward spring and moved To Scotts Bluff Nebraska, where we finished the winter and sold out in the spring I lounged around and got pointers and the Kid attended school as we did the year previous.

Back to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan

The old routine of trapping even among the great rocky mountains grew stale, so I decided that I would go back to upper Michigan locate Long Knife, and Shopnegon and trap on the Stergeon River. So Clark and I set out from North Platte in September and arrived in Gladstone after four days traveling. It so occurred that Chief Long Knife was in town and that same day we counciled on the winter work and decided to go together as Shopnegon was too old. We made a great catch of mink, marten, otter and lynx. The kid spent his winter with us enjoying every day and night, he skined cooked and made snow shoes, loaded sh.e.l.ls and did many other odd jobs. We sold our fur in the spring and was about to leave town for Oshkosh Wisconsin. When Long Knife came to me and told me a Dr. Harris had a son who was lost in the woods. And wanted me to a.s.sist in locating the boy. I went to the Drs, home and applied for the job--the Dr. was worried very badly but said that "i was only a kid and would get lost to if I ventured out sight of town" I rea.s.sured him that I was away up in my teens and had tramped the woods for eleven years and still could keep track of myself. So with his consent I took a lunch and got what information I could and struck out alone. I followed the river bluffs up to where he had been picking wintergreen berries and then I could not tell anything about it because so many folks were looking for him. after several hours I circled around and got out of reach of all spectators then I made a bee line for upstream,--(as that is the way all lost hunters and tenderfeet go) after I had traveled about two miles I found a raveling on a briar and then I was sure I had a trail. This discovery gave me courage and I took up the labor with all the instinct of my nature. I followed his trail till pitch dark and camped under a maple tree till the gray dawn announced day--then I resumed my search; after going about four or five miles I found his hat--which had been discribed to me. this proved two things that I had the right trail and that he had lost his mind, or was what we call "Woods Mad" That after noon at about five oclock I found where he had picked berries and an hour later I came upon him sitting on a log, He started to run but I was too quick on foot for him I soon caught him and after while I reasoned with him and he consented to return home with me. I had to fight all the way back he declared I was taking him the wrong direction to reach home. When I came to town every body was surprised and delighted. His father gave me fifty dollars and the citizens bought me a handsome Colts revolver, they made a real party for me that night and Long Knife was invited and Clark sat and looked on.

After we spent the summer we went back to Trout Lake after scouting around a few days I heard that a very excellent Mink Trapper was in town. I soon located him and we chummed up and planned to go to Red Lake Minnesota. This trapper was no other than the far famed Joe Whitecup. On the last day of October we reached our destination; bought a load of chuck hired two Indians to take us to the Lake London. There we built one headquarter camp, and three off-sets. The third off-set reaching to Indian creek. We found plenty of wolves, bear, lynx, sable mink, otter and beaver. Here Whitecup taught me more than I had ever dreamed about catching mink. I found out that he used a compound and that he got it by mail; but I could not hire him to tell me what it was nor where he got it I found out later; but if I had have known it sooner I would have saved me from much embarra.s.sment and great losses of money--Be patient It cost me much to get it but I am going to tell you before I finish this book just how to get it. And how to get it very reasonable. One night while I was staying in the Indian creek off-set I was surrounded with grey wolves. they came up and even sniffed at the camp door. I shot five that night by chance shots, and had a lively shooting match most of the time. About mid-winter we broke camp it grew cold and heavy snows covered the whole country; so we went down to Duluth and sold our furs.

Here I parted company with Whitecup after getting him roaring full hoping he would squeal what bait he used--but he was tight as a tick and mum as a toad.