WINTER IN THE KETTLE RIVER COUNTRY. 



Charles Greenwood. 



(Continued from page 63 ) 



IT snowed a little that evening, but as 

 I descended the steep bank to the 

 ice, next morning, I saw a small 

 object apparently floating in the little 

 pool. A near approach showed it to be a 

 head just above the water and I saw with 

 the keenest satisfaction that I had caught 

 the otter at the very first trial. Was this 

 a sample of their wariness ? If so, it 

 seemed a very poor one, so I walked to 

 the pool and looked at my captive, 

 which now twisted and thrashed around 

 with extraordinary violence, attempting 

 to dive out of sight. Failing in this, he 

 reappeared at the surface with a loud 

 snort, and remained motionless as if ex- 

 hausted by his struggles, although look- 

 ing extremely vicious. 



I always carried a little six inch Stev- 

 ens pistol, of .22-caliber, for emergencies 

 like the present, and it came in handy 

 now. I sighted carefully between the 

 otter's eyes and fired ; the little bullet 

 only pierced the skin and lodged with- 

 out penetrating the skull, and the otter's 

 struggles and desperate efforts to escape 

 were now tremendous. When they 

 ceased I got a side shot, and this time 

 it sank slowly, with a thin stream of 

 blood flowing from its ear. The trap 

 had a death grip, high up on one hind 

 leg, and escape was impossible. 



Highly elated at my success I carried 

 the skin home and stretched it carefully 

 on a board. Schomberg seemed some- 

 what surprised at the quick catch I had 

 made, but said 1 need not expect to 

 always succeed so easily, for everything 

 was in my favor, even to a light fall of 

 snow to cover my tracks and destroy 

 the scent. Knowing very little of such 

 things, I admitted it might be so and 

 shortly afterward found he was right. 



A week or more passed without any- 

 thing noteworthy occurring. The 

 weather continued fine, but turned 

 colder as Christmas approached ; and 

 one dull threatening morning as I passed 

 the scene of my late capture I saw a 

 little dark place on the snow, not down 

 at the dam as before, but away up at the 



head of the pond. It was the sign of 

 another otter, and now for some more 

 fun. The trail of this one led directly 

 up the little stream that fed the pond ; 

 it was but a thread of a brook, but in 

 its course through the forest numbers of 

 old logs lay rotting in it. The water was 

 not frozen here, but snow lay deep on 

 these logs, and a depression across each 

 of them showed the track of the otter's 

 body. It had traveled to the extreme 

 source of the rivulet and then crossed 

 overland to the main river. If it only 

 came this way again, it seemed to me 

 that a trap set in the mud, close to one 

 of these logs, would be about the correct 

 arrangement; so I brought one down 

 from the hills that day and set it. 



It remained cold and stormy for 

 several days but walking up there one 

 afternoon, I saw that another hole had 

 been opened in the ice, near the upper 

 end of the pond and close to the oppo- 

 site bank, which was low, grassy and 

 covered with brush. Down went a trap 

 into that hole, but the visitor came 

 there no more, and I found my trap 

 up the creek snapped, empty and 

 turned upside down in the soft mud. 

 That evening the weather changed 

 for the better and the heavy grey clouds 

 disappeared. So did the otter, and for 

 ten days I never saw a sign of it. 



My meat supply was getting low now 

 and I had seen no deer lately ; but late 

 one afternoon when passing along the 

 open bench land near the beaver pond, 

 I saw a fawn, some distance away, feed r 

 ing slowly towards me. Some great pine 

 trees stood near and I halted behind 

 one, determined to await its closer ap- 

 proach ; but there was a hollow basin 

 close to it and down into this the fawn 

 went. Now was my time. I walked 

 noiselessly but rapidly forward, gained 

 a spot within seventy yards of the hol- 

 low, and kneeling gently awaited its re- 

 appearance. But instead of leaving the 

 basin on my side, as I had hoped, it re- 

 turned to the farther edge and stood 

 still, offering a beautiful shot. I raised 



