A DEER HUNT ON WHITE RIVER. 



FRANK STERNBERG. 



The trail from Glenwood to New Castle 

 leads along the D. & R. G. Railroad. At 

 New Castle we left the railroad and in a 10 

 mile drive ascended the mountain several 

 thousand feet. The road was in good re- 

 pair and the scenery grand. We gained 

 the table land in time to go into noon 

 camp at Lost Springs. After dinner and 

 an hour's rest we pressed on, through tim- 

 bered glades and hills, grand pine or aspen 

 forests and parks as handsome as a blue- 

 grass meadow. 



After a pause to water our horses at 

 Mud Springs, we reached White river at 6 

 o'clock, and by the time the cook was ready 

 for them we had caught trout and grayling 

 enough to feed 9 hungry men. 



We were off in the morning by sunrise, 

 and after a brisk drive of 24 miles arrived 

 at our permanent camp, a lovely spot at 

 the foot of the mountain, near a crystal 

 streamlet and 600 yards from the North 

 fork of White river. There we amused 

 ourselves catching trout, prospecting the 

 surrounding country and getting ready for 

 our deer hunt, when the season should 

 open. One day a brook trout iSy 2 inches 

 long was taken. That breaks the record as 

 far as any of our party know. We were 

 lucky fishermen, and not only had all the 

 trout we wanted, but also supplied less 

 fortunate neighbor campers. We took 

 over 100 pounds of dressed fish in the 10 

 days of our trip, 'but not a pound was 

 wasted. 



One of our side trips was to Marvene 

 lakes. These 2 lakes are so clear that the 

 trout can be seen by thousands. Yet for 

 that very reason it is true sport to hook 

 them. It takes considerable skill to de- 

 ceive the wary trout in such clear water, 

 and convince him the fly is alive. Though 

 we threw back all fish not materially in- 

 jured by the hook, still 2 hours' fishing 

 yielded us over 20 pounds of dressed trout. 



The first day of the open deer season 

 was bright and clear. As by that time we 

 knew the haunts of our game, we had a 

 most successful day. Six of our party of 8 

 hunters each secured a pair of horns. The 

 2 unlucky ones killed on the second day a 



buck apiece. All admitted the object of 

 our trip accomplished, and the following 

 morning found our outfit on the trail for 

 home. 



The last of the 10 deer secured by us 

 fell to my lot. I was working down a de- 

 pression of the mountain about 1 o'clock 

 in the afternoon. A little thicket some 

 30 feet in diameter looked such a likely 

 place that I tossed a rock into it. Out 

 jumped a fawn, stopped, and gazed in open 

 eyed wonder long enough for me to shoot 

 it with a kodak. Farther along the edge 

 of the mountain was another willow 

 thicket, 200 feet or more in diameter. 

 Here, thought I, ought to be a buck, and I 

 threw a stick into the cover. A 3 pronged 

 buck jumped out. As I was about to pull 

 trigger on him another and larger buck 

 cleared the ridge. I instantly changed my 

 aim to the big fellow. The 30-30 Winches- 

 ter proved deadly, for he never moved 

 from the place where he fell. There I was, 

 5 miles from camp, with a 300 pound, 4- 

 pronged buck to tote there. I built a plat- 

 form on the mountain side from the partly 

 burned logs lying around, and dragged my 

 deer out on it, level with the top of the 

 horse's back. I then worked the carcass 

 over on to the horse, and roped it down to 

 the saddle. But my troubles had scarcely 

 begun, for I had to work my way down the 

 mountain side 2 miles, with no trail. 

 The mountain being exceedingly steep, the 

 only way I could get down at all was to 

 zigzag. It was next to impossible to get 

 through the timber with such a bulky pack ; 

 the effort could never have succeeded but 

 for the knowledge and training of my pack 

 horse. Twice on the journey Boldy lay 

 down from pure exhaustion, but when suf- 

 ficiently rested up he would get up and 

 make another start. I finally reached 

 camp, safe and sound, the last man in, and 

 the only man who brought in his game 

 without assistance. 



Many does and fawns could easily have 

 been killed, but were shot by us only with, 

 the kodak. Several of our party were pic- 

 ture hunters, and many views of interest 

 to us were added to our collections. 



Castleton — I spent 2 weeks in the Adi- 

 rondacks after deer. 



Cleverton — Have any luck? 



Castleton — No. I missed every guide I 

 didn't aim at. — Judge. 

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