Some Queer Catches. 



I remember, when I was a young trapper, tramping up a 

 creek in eastern Iowa one day in early spring. Peering through 

 some willows into the clear waters of a little creek, I saw a 

 large school of black suckers lying in the shade. I always car- 

 ried a snare and short line in those days, and, cutting a pole 

 from the thicket, I was soon landing some of the beauties. I 

 was working my snare carefully down toward the nose of a 

 big fellow, when suddenly every fish in the pool darted across 

 the stream and out of sight. I could not understand what had 

 frightened them. I was hidden in the willows and hadn't made 

 a quick move to startle them, but, knowing that the cause of 

 their fright would soon show up, I awaited developments. In 

 a few moments a big muskrat came gliding down the stream 

 toward my snare ; I held it still and when his head entered gave 

 a sharp twitch. The wire tightened around his neck and 1 

 landed a full-grown muskrat, which I dispatched with a stick 

 and carried the fur home but I got no more suckers from that 

 hole that day. 



On another occasion, when trapping along the Iowa-Min- 

 nesota state line, I had a trap set for mink on the Little Beaver 

 that gave me lots of trouble. Morning after morning I visited 

 this trap and found it sprung, the bait gone, but no mink. 

 Visiting the trap one cold morning, I felt much pleasure to 

 find it had been sprung and drawn into a hole in the bank. 

 Taking the chain in my hand, I pulled carefully on the trap, 

 holding my stick ready to crack him on the head when it ap- 

 peared. The trap came in sight; then a white foot; and I was 

 much surprised, on drawing it out, to find that I had caught an 

 ordinary white house cat. It was a conundrum to me, as it was 

 miles from any farmhouse. I was afraid that he was one that 

 had run wild, but, though frightened at first, he seemed very 

 grateful to me for removing the trap. He purred, rubbed 



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