FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 
The man who quits when he gets enough, with plenty of game still in sight, is a real sportsman. 
BEARS, WOLVES AND DEER. 
When ReEcrREATION reaches me I am 
not long in getting from it an elaborate 
mental menu which certainly is a healthier 
pastime than the reading of novels. 
You will remember me by recalling some 
of the times when, years ago, you occasion- 
ally came to Northern Wisconsin and 
dropped off at Florence to take a tramp 
somewhere or anywhere with me, in order 
that we might steal a march on a deer, or 
hook a few of those 2-pound trout that 
made some of those Northern streams such 
charming retreats for us in the long ago. 
One of our trips from Florence was to 
Lake Patten, 15 miles Southwest, where 
the primitive solitude still reigned, and for 
the time being we were lords of all we 
surveyed. Our castle was the Penrose 
cabin, in a small clearing on the romantic 
bank of that picturesque lake. 
One of my later trips to the same lake 
was so full of adventure that I am going 
to tell you about it. 
With my 38 caliber rifle I started to the 
Southwest of the lake, through an old chop- 
ping, and was sauntering along leisurely. 
When about half a mile from the cabin 2 
big black objects leaped suddenly from 
cover and ran in a bee line away from me. 
They had probably been sitting upright 
watching my movements as I walked 
through an old chopping in which were 
many charred stumps. I saw at a glance 
that the fugitives were bears, and they 
must have been so deeply interested in my 
approach as to forget the danger there is in 
a gun, for they kept mum until I was so 
near they could have seen me wink; but 
then the gap of 3 or 4 rods between us was 
quickly strung out. It is amusing to see 
how agile a big, waddling bear can be when 
he gets scared. 
My surprise was even greater than that 
of the bears. My first impression was that 
they were 2 big black hogs. This impres- 
sion was soon dissipated when I realized 
there were no hogs running wild in that 
section, and then the idea of bear came 
to my mind. In an instant I was follow- 
ing them on the run. Though far ahead of 
me, I could easily keep their trail by the 
crashing of brush and bumping of logs over 
which they passed. After following them 
a hundred yards or more and while passing 
a pot hole where there was some water and 
a rank growth of grass, I caught sight of 
a deer. He was quietly taking observa- 
tions, and the sight was too tempting to be 
resisted. I forgot all about the larger game 
and took a quick shot at the deer, but 
280 
missed. He was off in an instant and then 
I had the country all to myself. You know 
how it is. When a fellow chases 2 bear a 
while he gets out of form for shooting at 
them or anything else. 
I tramped on to the South, soon left be- 
hind me the old chopping, that was 
weird and enchanting, passed over a ridge 
and entered a ‘dense forest of hemlock. 
Coming to an old logging road, I stopped 
to look up and down. I could see 200 or 
300 yards. Night was approaching, and | 
knew it was just the time to keep still, to 
look and to listen. 
I stepped to one side of the road and 
leaned against a tree. 
No one who has not experienced the still- 
ness and solitude of a Northern wilderness 
at sunset can imagine how suspicious and 
lonely one becomes in the midst of such 
surroundings. I had stood beside the tree, 
watched and listened until I had nearly 
exhausted my patience, when suddenly, a 
hundred feet away, I saw a large, shaggy 
animal cross the road, with nose in the air, 
and as stiff as if pointing game. Be- 
hind him came another, and following this 
one still another, making 3. Then shortly 
3 more crossed the road in the same man- 
ner, and after a minute or 2 still 3 more 
followed. Finally the last trio came and 
passed, making 12 in all. 
They were big timber wolves who had 
passed with military precision before me. 
Here was one of the strangest maneuvers 
of wild animals I have ever seen, and it 
proved to me the sagacity and cunning of 
the wolf. They were evidently on a hunt- 
ing expedition. The strongest were in the 
lead and the leader was the largest and 
bravest of them all. These characteristics 
became less and less marked as the tail 
end of the line appeared and the last 2 or 3 
animals seemed to be following along be- 
cause they had to. The contrast between 
the 2 ends of the line was singularly strik- 
ing. The leader, with head aloft, was 
watching and waiting for some coveted ob- 
ject on which to prey, and he would then 
give the signal for breaking line of march, 
when the whole pack would make the for- 
est resound with their inimical yells. A 
person hearing them would doubtless say 
there were 100 in the pack. Another strik- 
ing circumstance about these wolves is the 
fact that I neither heard them before they 
approached the road nor after they left it. 
Neither did I see them before or after, as 
both sides of the road were thickly grown 
with brush. 
Why did I not shoot? Because I was 
