Fifty Years a Hunter and Trapper Part 12

We put up a rude shelter and camped for the night at the edge of the windfall. In the morning as soon as it was light enough to travel without danger of pa.s.sing over the trail we were on the move. There were several hundred acres in the windfall so we concluded to go around and make sure that the bear was still there. Bill skirted the jam to the left while I went to the right. Not long after daylight it began to snow. We met on the east side of the jam about 11 o'clock without seeing anything of the crippled bear track, though I had crossed the trail of two bears that had gone into the jam two or three days before.

We now concluded to go back to where the two bears had gone into the jam and one of us stand near the trail while the other one would drop below the trail and work around on the opposite side and drive them out if he could. The wind was blowing strong from the northeast, which would make it next to impossible for the bears to wind the watches. Bill said that he would watch as he could stand the cold weather better than I could. It was now snowing very hard, and we knew that the bears were aware of the approaching storm and had gone to the windfall to go into winter quarters. Chances were that they would not come out unless driven by getting close on to them. We were in hopes that the three bears might be all in one nest, and that the one that did the driving would stand a fair chance to get a shot at them as they left.

I made my calculations from what I knew of the jam about where the bear would lay. Good luck was on my side this time and I hit it just right, coming on to them from the opposite side from where they had gone in, but I did not see or hear them when they went out. The first thing I knew of their whereabouts was when I came on to where the bears had been breaking laurel brush for their bunk. Will I did some fine looking and listening, but all to no purpose, as they had got the wind of me and had gone out. Undoubtedly they would not have done this had they been in their nest a few days longer and had got well to sleep.

They had gone in under two large trees that had been blown out by the roots. They had taken dry rotten wood torn from the two old trees that formed the root to their winter quarters, and with laurel brush and other matter they had made very good quarters for the winter. I soon discovered that the lame bear was not with the two other bears.

I did not follow the trail very far when I came onto the trail of the lame bear going on still further into the jam, but I did not follow it but continued on after the two bears to learn what luck Bill had had. I heard no gun shot and was afraid that the bear had not come within gun shot of Bill, although the bears were following nearly back on their trail that they went in on.

When I came to the edge of the wind jam, I saw that the bear had of a sudden made some big jumps down the side of the hill. One of them had turned back into the jam while the other had followed down the hill, and Bill's track was following the trail. I did not go far when I saw Bill tugging away at the bear trying to draw it down to the hollow and near where we had camped the night before.

It was still snowing very hard, and after getting the bear down to the hollow and near to what was called in those days a wagon road--a near trail cut out through the woods--we went to the camp where we had stayed over night and rebuilt the fire and ate a lunch. We had not eaten anything since morning, not wishing to spare the time. It was snowing so hard, and as we knew that we would not be able to reach camp until well along in the night, we concluded to again use the camp of the night before. We gathered a few more hemlock boughs and made the shelter a little more comfortable and went to roasting bear meat on a stick to help out the grub we had brought with us, so that we could look further for the lame bear the next morning.

When morning came, it had snowed more than twelve inches, and as we were satisfied that the lame bear would not leave the jam, we concluded to go down the run about five miles to where a man lived by the name of Reese. Arrangements were made with him to get the bear down to his place where we could get it later. From Mr. Reese's we went to camp and waited a few days for the snow to settle a little.

On the way back to camp we looked at two or three bear traps and found a small bear in one of the traps, and the last bear that we got during the season.

We now began to take in the bear traps as we came near one on the way to camp. The snow was so deep we were obliged to reset the most of the small traps, although we had when setting out the traps taken every precaution to set in such places as would afford them all the shelter possible. After tending all the traps again, we went once more to see if we could route the lame bear. We spent two days searching the windfall in every quarter, but were unable to find a trace of the track. We were quite positive that she was still somewhere in the jam, but the snow had fallen so deep that it had completely obliterated all signs.

Two years later I was one of a party that killed a bear and captured her two cubs. The old bear had one foot gone. I am quite sure that it was the one that had escaped from our traps.

We now put in the time hunting deer and looking after the small traps until about the first of January, when we pulled all of our traps and went home. This ended my hunting with William Earl, one of the best pards that I ever hit the trail with, or followed a trap line. Bill left these parts and went back east to his native state, and after a time I lost all trace of him.

CHAPTER XIV.

Hunting and Trapping in Cameron County.

It will be remembered that when Mr. Earl (or Bill, as I preferred to call him,) and the writer followed the bear from the Kinzua in McKene County, through Cameron County, that we saw signs of bear, deer, marten and other game quite plentiful in the region of Baley Run, Salt Run and Hunt's Run, and that we concluded to pitch our camp in that quarter. As there were no huckleberries in the vicinity of our homes, we decided to kill two birds with one stone, that was to pick some huckleberries and build our camp for the next season's hunt.

Accordingly about the last days of July, we took a team and our outfit for camp building and started for Hunt's Run by way of the Sinnamahoning and Baley Run. At this time the country in that section was an unbroken forest of pine, oak and hemlock with a goon sprinkling of chestnut. As the saying was in those days, "G.o.d owned the land in that section," so all we had to do was to go into the woods, select our camp site and proceed to build. (Boys, let me stop long enough to say it is different nowadays; you must go through a whole lot of red tape and get a permit to camp and the permit only lasts two weeks, when you must get a renewal.)

The site we selected for our camp was on the left-hand branch of Hunt's Run. We rolled up the usual box log body, about 10 x 14 feet.

We put up a bridge roof, putting up about four pairs of rafters and then using three or four small cross poles for roof boards. We then peeled hemlock bark, making the pieces about four feet long, which we used for shingles to cover the roof with. After the roof was completed, we felled a chestnut tree which we split into spaults about four feet long. With these we c.h.i.n.ked all the cracks between the logs, striking the axe into the logs, close to the edge of the c.h.i.n.king and then driving a small wedge in the slot made by the axe to hold the c.h.i.n.king in place.

Next we gathered moss from old fallen trees and stuffed all the cracks, using a blunt wedge to press the moss good and tight. We then begun on the mason work. We found a bank of clay that was rather free of stones and made a mortar by using water, making the mortar about as stiff as mortar usually used in house plastering. The c.h.i.n.king and mossing had been done from the inside, while we now filled the s.p.a.ce between the logs good and full of mortar, or rather mud.

The next work was to take the team and haul stones, which we found along the run and put up the fireplace. Considerable pains was taken and we done a pretty good job, as we hoped to use this camp for a number of seasons. After the fireplace was completed, we hung a door, using hinges made of blocks of wood and boring auger holes through one end. Shaping the other end on two of these eyes to drive in two holes boring into the logs close to the door jams. The other two eyes were flattened off and made long enough for door cleats as well as to form a part of the door hinge. Now a rod was run through these eyes or holes in these pieces. This formed a good, solid door hinge. Then a door latch was made from a slat of wood, which worked on a pin in a hole bored in one end of the slat and a hole bored through the door.

A small hole in the slat and a string tied to latch and run through a hole in the door furnished the means of raising the latch. A loop for the latch to work in and a catch on the door jam and the door was complete.

We next put in the window and made a bunk or bedstead from small poles and the hut was completed. I think we were about four days doing the work including an hour or so each day spent in picking huckleberries enough for our special need. Now as the camp was completed, we began to search for a place where we could find berries more plentiful than we had found them near camp. On the hillsides facing the river, where there were barrens, we found more.

While searching for huckleberries we found a deerlick or salt log, which the deer were working good. Bill said he guessed we had better appropriate the loan of the lick for one night to our own use, and see if we could not get some venison to take home with us as well as huckleberries.

When the sun was about an hour high, we took our guns and went to the salt log. There was no blind made to get in to watch them. We selected two jack pines that stood near together and we each climbed into a tree, breaking some of the boughs out that obstructed our view in the direction of the lick and laid the boughs across some limbs to sit on. We had scarcely got our seats fixed when I heard the crack of a limb off to our left. I whispered to Bill and pointed in the direction I had heard the breaking of the limb. Bill shook his head, to indicate that he had not heard anything, but had hardly done so when I saw Bill begin to cautiously shift his gun from the way it was pointed and slowly move it so as to shoot to his left. When he had the gun worked around so it pointed in the direction in which he wanted it, he began to raise it slowly to his shoulder. I thought to myself, that means venison for breakfast. I thought right, for when Bill touched the trigger and his gun spoke, I saw two yearling deer jump into sight and my gun came to my shoulder from habit, but there was no need to shoot.

The second jump that the deer made one of them fell dead, the other one ran a few rods, stopped and looked back to see what had become of his mate. Bill's gun came to his shoulder like a flash, but I hollowed, "Don't shoot." Bill dropped his gun and said, I came dog-on-nigh making a fool of myself. We got down from our perches and dragged the deer (a yearling buck) out away from the lick, removed the entrails and Bill made a knapsack of the carca.s.s and started for camp.

The sun could still be seen shining on the highest peaks of the hills. Bill said, "That fun was over with too quick; I had one of the most comfortable seats I ever had. I had no time to enjoy it, when you called my attention to those little bucks and spoiled all my comfort." We got to camp before dark and stripped the skin from the deer, spread it out, cut all the meat from the bones, layed it on the skin, sprinkled some salt over it, then wrapped the meat up in the skin, saving out a few choice pieces to frizzle over the coals and eat with our lunch before bunking in for the night.

We had seen some parties, while picking berries during the day. They told us that there was a man by the name of Sage living down on the river near Emporium, who had a large clearing on the hill only about a mile from where we were, or about two miles from our camp. He told us in which direction we would find the field, and said that we would find Mr. Sage there, as he was up there cutting oats. As the grub stake for the horses was getting rather low, and as we were not yet ready to go home, Bill said that if I would stay and jerk the venison (for here we cannot keep venison by hanging it up in a tree, or on a pole, as you can on the Pacific Coast or in the Rockies), he would go and see Mr. Sage.

In the morning I began preparation to jerk the venison, while Bill went in search of grub for the horses. There was no road, but there was but very little down timber in the woods in those days, only occasionally a wind jam, which you had to work your way around. Bill found the clearing all right, and got oats in the bundle for the horses. Bill also made arrangements with Mr. Sage to bury eight bushels of potatoes and leave them on the hill where we could get them as we wished. Bill also killed a large rattlesnake on his way to the field, which he brought to camp, where we skinned and took out the oil. When we were skinning the snake Bill remarked, "that he thought the fur rather light on the varmint, but it was a pretty cuss." Let me say that at our place on the head waters of the Allegheny we had no eels, rattlesnakes or wartelberries, so we concluded that we would stop one night on the Sinnamahoning and get some eels to take home with us.

While Bill was gone for horse feed I was busy jerking the venison. I gathered a good hill of dry hemlock bark from the logs, burned it to a good pile of live coals. I now made a rack or gridiron by driving four crotched stakes in the ground about the embers and then laid small poles across in the crotches to form a rack to spread the venison on over the coals. I stood hemlock bark up about the rack, freshly peeled from the tree and covering the top over also with bark, which forms an oven. It is necessary to remove the top or cover occasionally and turn the meat, and say, boys, next June when you are out camping just kill a small deer and prepare the meat as described.

Is it good? I guess yes.

Having our work completed at the camp, the next morning after we had got the horses fed and the venison prepared, we drove back onto Baleys Run. Here we camped near the mouth of the run, and that night we set fifty eel hooks, some in the run and some in the main Sinnamahoning. I think that we caught twenty-two eels and some trout.

As we were now in a section where there were some barrens, which contained good huckleberry picking, we put in the next day picking berries until near night, and drove home at night, a distance of about twenty miles. All the time while picking berries, setting eel hooks and trout fishing, of which we did enough to supply our needs, we kept a close watch for signs of animals that we intended to take in later on.

We saw signs of mink, c.o.o.n and where an otter had been at play on a steep bank of the run. We saw signs of bear in several places where they had torn old logs to pieces in search of grub and ants. We saw at one place where a bear had dug out a woodchuck, and I should judge by the amount of digging he had done that he earned his chuck. We saw considerable signs of bear in the huckleberries, and of them will have more to say later on.

About October first, Bill and your humble servant again started for camp, which we found all right. From all appearances it had been occupied for several days by someone, probably berry pickers, and as usual they had burned up what wood we had cut. Bill made a little kick, and said they were welcome to the camp, but he would be "dog-on" pleased if they would cut what wood they burned. Our first week in camp was spent in cutting a good supply of wood and mudding the shack a little in places where we failed to do good work the first time.

Being located well up at the head of the streams, it made it necessary for us to do a good deal of traveling to get from one stream to another where the water was of sufficient size to afford good trapping ground. Steel traps being none too plenty with us now, we started in to build deadfalls. The territory so far as trapping was concerned was left to Bill and I, and we took in the waters of Baley Run, the Portage, Conley Run and Hunt's Run, as well as several lesser streams. As the Baley was the farthest from our camp, Bill said we would put up the traps on that stream first. Bill said that we would go at it man fashion, for we would be compelled to get our grub from the trap line, for there was no chance to take a wood job in that section of the country. I suggested that we might get a job at the lumber camp, where we sold the deer the year before, and get a few beans and a little pork. I guess that Bill did not like the idea, for I remember he only gave me a grunt for an answer.

Say, boys, the question of pork and beans leads me to ask how many of you who have a fireplace in your camp have a bean hole? Now, Bill and I had one in our camp, and I tell you we thought it fine and we did it in this way. We dug a hole in one corner of the fireplace about two and a half feet deep and about eighteen inches in diameter, using the regular old style of bake kettle. This is merely an iron pot, with a close fitting f.l.a.n.g.e lid so as to seclude all dust and ashes, and we used it in this way. We would first rake a good lot of live coals from the fireplace into the bean hole, having the beans already in the kettle. Then we would put the kettle down in the hole and rake the hole full of live embers, being careful to cover the hole over with plenty of ashes.

We prepared the beans about in this fashion: After washing we soaked them for about twelve hours. The water was drained off and the beans were then put into the kettle with the necessary tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, which consisted of a good chunk of pork put in the center of the beans, and two or three smaller pieces laid on top, a pinch of salt providing that the pork was not sufficiently salty. A spoonful of brown sugar or rather a little baking mola.s.ses and a little pepper. Now this kettle was allowed to remain three or four days in the hole without disturbing farther than to cover over occasionally with hot embers.

You ask if beans are good baked this way--we guess yes. We have heard a great deal about the famous Boston baked beans, but we wish to say that they are not in it compared to beans baked in a bean hole.

Well, to get back to the trap line. We took the Baley waters first.

This was about six miles from camp, and as it was still a little earlier in the season than we cared to begin to take fur, we would build the deadfalls and have them ready to set when we thought that fur was ripe enough to begin to gather. Bill used a good heavy axe, and would cut the dead pole and bed pieces and the stakes and fit them all ready to put up. He would then go on and select a place to build another trap and get the material all ready as before and then move on to the next place. I would follow him up and build the trap, make the bait pen and have the trap all ready to set when the right time came. The triggers we would make evenings in camp. We always used the three-stick trigger, for then we could adjust the trigger so that we were sure that the front legs of the animal were over the bed piece, when the trap was sprung. In that condition there was not get-away for the animal that tried to snip the bait. We would build traps on one stream until we had a plenty for that stream. We would take up another and put in a supply on that stream, and so on until we had gone over as much ground as we could work to good advantage.

All the time we were putting up these deadfalls we were keeping a watch out for likely places to set our steel traps for fox and other animals. After we had gone over the streams we built the necessary deadfalls in the dark, heavy timbered sections where we thought likely that there might be marten. As it was now well along toward the last of October, we set our bear traps on the different ridges in the sections where the chestnut timber was the most plenty. The chestnut crop was good and we knew that the first hard freeze would open the burs. Bill said we got to get a move on us from early in the morning until after dark when we would get into camp. We wished to get all the traps out now that we could. Later we were going to put in some time gathering chestnuts, as soon as they began to fall, as there was good money in gathering them. At this business there was lively compet.i.tion with the squirrels, c.o.o.ns, bears and other animals to see which could gather the most, so naturally there is but a few days good picking after the chestnuts fall.

Bill said that we would be in a deal while the nuts lasted and we did, for we gathered several bushels. I do not just remember how many now, but that wasn't all we got while we were gathering chestnuts.

One day we came to where a bear had been raking for nuts and as it was only about a mile from camp I said to Bill that it might be possible that if we would stay out and watch for Bruin as long as we could see to shoot, we might get a shot at the bear. Bill said that he preferred to let the traps do the watching. There was a little mist of rain falling, and just the right kind of weather for Bruin to be prowling around. Some way it seemed to me if we stayed and watched we would get a shot at a bear, but Bill had no faith and said that I would get good and wet for my trouble. I told him that if he would take what nuts I had gathered along to the shanty, I would stay and watch awhile at least. Bill agreed, and said that he would have a hot supper ready for me when I came to camp. I suggested to Bill that he have the frying pan hot when I got there, for I would bring in some bear meat for supper. Bill said that I need not bother to skin his, as he would eat his hair and all.

As soon as Bill was gone I selected a point where I could see down the hill, as well as over a good stretch of the top of the ridge. I had only fairly picked my ground to watch when I heard the brush crack close to me from behind. My gun came to my shoulder as I turned in the direction of the noise, and there stood Bill a-grinning. I asked him what had changed his mind. He said that if I could stand it he could, so he stepped along the ridge a few yards and I leaned up against a large hemlock tree. He had scarcely taken his stand when all of a sudden I saw him begin to slowly raise his gun to his shoulder. I knew that he was about to shoot at something, but thought it must be a deer. I thought that I ought to shout and scare it away, for I thought that Bill had come back on purpose to beat me out of the sport, and I guessed right. Bill said after he had started to camp it seemed to him that he had done wrong in leaving me to watch alone, and that I would kill a bear. So he turned back and got there just in time so as not to frighten the bear away, as well as to shoot it, which was a yearling and weighed about 125 pounds, with a fine pelt.

Bill apologized for the little trick. Said he would never do anything of the kind again. He never did. A good reason being that another opportunity never occurred. But later I will tell how I got the laugh on Bill. The next morning Bill took the saddles of the bear to Emporium and sold the meat, but he said that bear meat was not at a premium in Emporium. I think he got about $6.00 out of the saddles.

While Bill was gone to Emporium I took two bear traps and went on to a ridge where I thought would be the most likely place to catch a bear, as there was considerable beach timber on that ridge in places.

Beach nuts last long after chestnuts are gone, and bear would be likely to work in this timber. As we had not got all of our small traps out yet, Bill said that if I would finish setting the rest of the small traps, he would put in the most of his time hunting deer, as the leaves were now pretty well off from the undergrowth, so that the woods were now quite open. This I agreed to, as I knew Bill to be a good deer hunter, while I was a little skeptical as to some of his trapping methods.

Well, as the busy season was with us now, it was an early breakfast and a late supper day after day. Yet we were able to keep up the pace from the natural stimulating desire for sport, being anxious to know what the results of the next day would be. We were having the usual success of the average hunter and trapper who, as Bill said, if willing to get a move on, our supply of meat and game was never lacking, for I always shot at small game when hunting deer. Bill said that he did not like to come into camp empty handed, so he would shoot a grouse or a squirrel whenever a chance occurred. We had no snow up to this time, so that deer hunting was a little dull, and Bill said that he would take a line of traps, either on Baley Run or on the Conley, as I liked. I said, take your choice, Bill, so he said he would go to Conley Run, which was a little farther from camp than the Baley Run, and one or two more bear traps than on Baley Run.

I found a c.o.o.n or two, and I think I got a fox and one marten, but no mink or other furs. I found that a bear had been to one trap and torn down the bait pen and taken the bait, but left the trap unsprung. I knew that he would cut the same trick again, if I set the trap there, so I bent over a small sapling and hung the carca.s.s of a c.o.o.n on it for a bait. The carca.s.s hung four or five feet from the ground.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RESULTS OF A FEW WEEKS' TRAPPING.]

I set the trap under the carca.s.s and said to myself, "Old fellow, when you take that c.o.o.n, there will be a bear dance." I got to camp long after dark, but when I came in sight of camp and looked for a light, there was no light to be seen, or any Bill to be found in camp. I lit a light and looked at my watch. It was only a few minutes of eight o'clock. I got supper and waited until nine o'clock, but no Bill came, so I laid down on the bunk to rest, expecting Bill to turn up every minute.

I dropped to sleep and when I awoke, the fire had burned out and Bill had not returned. I looked at my watch. It was after three o'clock, and I knew that there would be no more sleep for me. I went outside and listened, but no sound could be heard. I got my breakfast, put an extra lunch in my knapsack, and sat down and waited for the break of day. As soon as the first streaks of light appeared in the east, I strapped on my knapsack, took my gun and started in the direction in which I had known Bill to take. I followed the ridge to the Conley Run waters, over which Bill would likely come if he had been detained in that region.

When I came to the head of a run that led to the main Conley waters, I stopped at the brow of the hill. I could look down into the hollow.

Here I knew that I could be heard for some distance. I listened for some time to see if I could hear a gun shot or any other noise that would lead me to the whereabouts of Bill. Not a sound to be heard, not even the hoot of an owl. I gave a long whoop and then listened, but still no answering sound. I again gave a long continued "co-hoop"

and Bill burst out laughing, and asked what was the matter with me.