204 NARRATIVES. 



were ten trout, averaging perhaps two pounds apiece, and one 

 fine one of over twelve pounds. We had no occasion to salt 

 them, as five of us easily disposed of them otherwise in the 

 course of a week. 



" We were told that we could kill all the deer that we should 

 want for the winter. The understanding was that, just before 

 freezing time, we should lay in our stock. I asked how many 

 deer would probably be a fair supply for the party. The an- 

 swer was, ' About twenty.' Such were our expectations. 

 The reality was this : Our party had the opportunity of see- 

 ing at a distance the chase and killing of two deer in Bass 

 Lake, by resident hunters. These were all the deer that were 

 taken in Bass Lake or in Salmon Lake within our sight and 

 hearing, or within our knowledge by rumor, during the whole 

 of our twenty days on the hunting grounds. The dogs were 

 baying frequently, and hunters did their best, but no more 

 deer were taken. We had not the slightest chance of killing 

 any in the usual way by running them into the lakes, as our 

 dog was only a puppy that was more likely to lose himself 

 than to find deer. As to the chance of getting venison by the 

 * still hunt,' that is by shooting deer in the woods, there was 

 little encouragement, as our party only saw one on land 

 during all our journeyings. 



"'But how about bears? You didn't kill any, of course, but 

 did you see or hear of any'? Well, I will tell you all about 

 bears. We expected to have something to do with them, and 

 provided ourselves with a couple of Newhouse's famous bear- 

 traps ; but we did not set them, and of course did not catch 

 any. We saw scratches on a stump, which Mr. Hutchins pro- 

 nounced to be the work of a bear's claws made for sport, as a 

 cat airs her hooks sometimes by scratching. One night, when 

 we were camping out, Mr. Pitt heard a terrible noise that he 

 thought bad enough to be a bear's growl ; but it proved to be 

 the complaint of an owl. And, to conclude, we had a view 

 in fact, rather too near a view of a grisly skeleton of a 

 bear, lying by the side of the path leading from our Crusoe 

 shanty to the lake, a relic left us by some previous hunter 

 and the ravens. That was the nearest we came to seeing a 

 bear. 



