226 THE Aroostook Woops. 

The fisher in winter is frequently killing the porcupine for 
food. By some means, some dodge best known to himself, 
he gets him upon his back to avoid his’ sharp armor, and 
bites him underneath and at his throat where there are no 
quills, killing him very quickly, yet not without getting many 
a quill imbedded in his cheek, as is often seen after being 
captured. So this, in winter, is a good bait and easily 
procured, as they can be tracked to the old pine logs when 
out on sunny days, leaving a wide path in the snow behind 
them. The fisher takes most kindly to the wing or leg of a 
partridge, rabbit or frozen chub, and if hungry, may be 
caught with his every day food, the squirrel. Deer meat he 
is quite fond of as well. Having killed and dressed a deer 
at some place, the refuse, if left upon a knoll raised up from 
the ground, that he may get underneath it, will prove almost 
a sure chance to get one, if he passes within a half mile to 
leeward of it. Then if any is left in the spring after the 
snow goes off, when Bruin is again ranging the hills, he may 
call once or twice to nose it over, when he, too, may be 
caught. 
A little after sundown, the fisher wakes up from his long 
day’s sleep, and from his den in some hollow log, or often 
from a large, leaning, hollow cedar tree or the hollow branch 
of some old monarch of the forest, pokes his nose out to note 
the time and the weather. And after a look around below, 
steps out of his house and reaching as far up the branch as his 
short forearms will allow, and settling his sharp claws in the 
wood, has a fine scratch and a stretch out before coming 
down to the ground. Then backing down to near the ground 
he turns and springs to the old log twelve or fifteen feet away 
landing as light as a bird and leaps away to the first hillock, 
