OUR UONTH AT LONG LAKE. 



ARTHUR MUX SOX 



" Injun heard the honk of wild goose flying Southward in 

 the sky. 

 Then he knew the cold was coming, with the snows of 

 by-um-by." 



Misquoted my younger brother Joe, one 

 day in late September, years ago. 



Joe and I had long wanted to spend a 

 month or 2 hunting, trapping and really 

 and truly camping out. The place chosen 

 was at Long lake, some 20 miles farther 

 in the woods of Northern Michigan than 

 was our log-house home. After the fall 

 work was finished, father said, " Well, 

 boys, go along, but look out for yourselves. 

 There are lots of varments in those 

 woods." 



Mother made some mild objections to 

 our going, but we could see she wanted us 

 to have a good time, and knew we were able 

 to take care of ourselves. 



In our constant warfare on the squirrels 

 that destroyed our corn, we had become 

 expert shots with 2 big navy revolvers 

 that we kept bright by use. We consid- 

 ered them almost armament enough, but 

 we took with them a double shotgun and 

 a combined shotgun and rifle. 



One afternoon we packed up ready for 

 an early start next morning, and our boat 

 was the first thing put in the big wagon. 



Mother seemed to know exactly what we 

 wanted in the culinary line, and gave us lots 

 of blankets, and old sails to make our tent 

 with. 



Arriving at the upper end of the lake, we 

 soon had the tent up, close to a big rock 

 that had a sort of cavity and a broken out- 

 side that would answer well for a fireplace 

 and chimney. It was on a hillside above 

 the lake shore, and close to oak and maple 

 windfalls which furnished us fuel. Near by 

 we also found a spring of pure water. 



" You have heard of planked shad," said 

 Joe, just before night, as he pushed the old 

 boat into the lake. " Well, we are about 

 to have planked pickerel, if I can catch 

 one." He got one, and we found planked 

 pickerel very toothsome. 



We banked up inside the tent with dry 

 moss, and in various ways prepared for 

 the colder weather we might soon expect. 

 Then there were mink traps to set, and we 

 found some old deadfall traps which, with 

 a little work, were made to do duty again. 



Soon after we had the camp fairly settled, 

 one morning before it was quite light, Joe 

 aroused me and taking the rifle stepped 

 out of the tent. Just as I looked out, he 

 fired at something climbing clumsily up 



the hill, above the tent. It proved to be 

 a brown bear; and when shot he gave a 

 combined roar and whine and tumbled 

 heavily down toward us. After breakfast 

 we rolled Mr. B'ar under a big tree, and 

 dressed him. We saved only the hide and 

 hind quarters to bait traps with, as game 

 was so plentiful. Every night we heard 

 wolves howling, and were not surprised at 

 seeing many of their tracks in the light snow. 



We put in some time gathering hickory 

 and beech nuts, and a lot of pitch pine knots 

 for campfire and lights. 



One morning I shot a deer on the other 

 shore of the lake, opposite our camp, where 

 I had gone, with the boat, to look after 

 mink traps. The buck was almost too 

 heavy for me to drag, but after cutting off 

 portions for which we had no use, it was 

 lighter, and I managed to get it to the lake. 

 Then I tied the horns to the stern of the 

 boat and towed it to camp. 



When Joe found a wolf in one of the 

 deadfall traps, one morning, he said it 

 served the fellow right, as it had no busi- 

 ness snooping about our hunting grounds. 

 We were not after big game. Minks were 

 what we wanted ; and we caught a good 

 many, too, as Joe seemed a born trapper. 

 He found one of their slides, in a place 

 I had often passed, and he caught many 

 a black slider there. 



While looking for game, one afternoon, 

 I found, a little back from the lake, a large 

 hole in a sandy bank, and set a mink trap 

 in it. Next morning the trap held the larg- 

 est woodchuck I ever saw. He was such a 

 fighter I had to administer a soothing pow- 

 der (and ball) before I could get him to 

 the boat. 



Northern Michigan is noted for long and 

 cold winters, and by November 1st the lake 

 was frozen over. We had brought our 

 skates, knowing they would be needed, and 

 had skated over to the traps several times, 

 when one dav Joe said " Why not sail 

 over?" 



The old flat bottomed boat was just the 

 thing, and getting her on the lake I sat 

 astride the prow, with my steel-shod feet 

 on the ice, while Joe managed the sail. 

 Standing just back of the row locks, he could 

 steer her anywhere. It put a great strain 

 on me, however, and he had to ease off 

 with care or I could not hold her. Mak- 

 ing the circle of the traps took us to the 

 farther end of the lake. Thinking it would 

 do no harm to look over the high ground 

 a bit, I took the rifle and went quietly up 



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