THE AMATEUR TRAPPERS. 



CHARLEY APOPKA. 



II. 



The Trappers camped on Sand lake a 

 week, caught several coons, ate many ducks, 

 and enjoyed life; but no otter would ven- 

 ture into their cunningly concealed traps. 

 Every evening they went fishing in the 

 mouth of the nearest lagoon, sometimes 

 with success, sometimes without, but al- 

 ways with satisfaction in one form or an- 

 other. One evening Mose went alone, neg- 

 lecting to take along the gun, as usual, in 

 spite of the protests of Uncle Snap, who 

 knew from experience that the greatest op- 

 portunities come when the gun is left in 

 camp. Foolish Mose, however, only pushed 

 off, and was soon among the pads at the 

 mouth of the lagoon. A moment more and 

 he was trying to establish communication 

 with the bass by means of a Bristol rod, 

 the valued gift of Recreation's Editor. 

 Hearing a noise in the water behind him, 

 he looked over his shoulder, and beheld the 

 grandfather of otters come out of the water, 

 and walk along the shore toward the boat. 

 When directly opposite, and not more than 

 40 feet away, the otter stopped, looked toward 

 Mose, sniffed the air a few times, returned 

 to the water, and was soon lost to view. 



While this was taking place, Mose sat 

 quietly in the boat, hardly daring to breathe 

 for fear of frightening his shy visitor, and 

 his thoughts were somewhat as follows : 



"Confound my idiotic picture for not 

 bringin' the gun ! Here's the first good 

 chance we've had at an otter, and I have to 

 sit like a dummy and watch 6 or 8 dollars, 

 worth of fur chase itself out into the shad- 

 owy future, with nothing to flag it down 

 but a fish hook. If I had a kodak, and 

 knew how to use it, what a picture I could 

 get for Recreation's photo competition !" 



Promising himself never to stir out of 

 the tent again without a gun in his hand, 

 Mose dejectedly put up his rod, and pad- 

 dled back to camp. As he did so the coots 

 cackled at him in a most insulting way. 



After supper the adventure was related 

 to Uncle Snap, who glared at his careless 

 pard a moment, and then burst out : 



"I told y " but suddenly checked him- 

 self, realizing that it was by no means an 

 original remark he was about to make, and 

 contented himself by beating Mose 3 

 straight games of casino. 



One evening they packed everything: away 

 in the canoes, and the next morning the 

 day star saw them on their way, long be- 

 fore the sun was up. The river narrowed 

 after it left the lake, and ran through a 



great marsh, and a strong current helped 

 them on their way. Uncle Snap was in the 

 lead, some 50 yards or more, when 2 otters 

 swam out from under some willow pushes, 

 and started down stream. Uncle Snap put 

 all his force on the paddle, and by the time 

 the otters reached the opposite bank he was 

 close to them. Seizing the gun, he took a 

 hurried aim, as they crawled ashore, with 

 their heads in line, and fired ; but in his 

 hurry he overshot, and the otters plunged 

 back again, and were seen no more. 



Coming along behind, Mose, in scanning 

 the shores, as was his wont, saw a young 

 buck, back from the river some 60 or 70 

 yards, standing with his big ears raised and 

 his body concealed by the swamp willows. 

 He had evidently been lying down, and at 

 the report of the gun had jumped to his 

 feet, and was trying to decide what was cre- 

 ating all the disturbance. Mose grabbed his 

 rifle and tried to catch a sight, but the cur- 

 rent carried the canoe past the openings 

 in the bushes too swiftly. Mose ran ashore, 

 softly parted the leaves; and was pleased to 

 see the deer still standing like a statue. 

 Taking a careful squint through the Ly- 

 man sights at the graceful throat, Mose 

 pressed the trigger. The buck fell in his 

 tracks, as if struck by lightning. The 25 

 caliber bullet had done its work, and an- 

 other murder of a beautiful, harmless crea- 

 ture had been committed. The assassina- 

 tion was as justifiable as such deeds often 

 are, for there was no fresh meat on hand. 



"Come ashore. I've killed a deer," Mose 

 called to Uncle Snap, who was poking about 

 on the bottom with his paddle, hopelessly 

 trying to find a dead otter, though he knew 

 better. 



They bled the deer and dressed it on the 

 ground, for the willow bushes would not 

 sustain the weight. The buck was large and 

 fat, as the marsh deer generally are. 



They took the meat aboard, proceeded on 

 their way, and camped that evening on a 

 little knoll among the willows. It was not 

 long until venison steaks were sizzling in 

 the pan, and impatient Trappers snuffed the 

 air with watering mouths. 



"This is living," mumbled Uncle Snap, 

 with his mouth full of deer meat, and a bis- 

 cuit in his paws. "I wouldn't be a vegeta- 

 rian for a million dollars." 



He got no reply from Mose, who had been 

 told, in his early days, that it was a breach 

 of etiquette to talk with his mouth full ; but 

 his actions were more eloquent than words. 



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