THE AMATEUR TRAPPERS 



BY CHARLEY APOPKA. 

 IV 



The next morning, after visiting the 

 traps set, and taking out of them a bald 

 tailed old 'possum, and 2 or 3 swamp rab- 

 bits that had blundered into them, the trap- 

 pers set off in the direction in which the 

 coons were heard the night before. Pad- 

 dling up the dead water half a mile 

 took them to where a lagoon branched 

 off in the direction they wished to go. This 

 in turn branched and forked into numerous 

 smaller channels, overhung with willows, 

 myrtles and other swamp growths, and on 

 the branches of these stood numbers of 

 night herons, ibises, and other long legged 

 gentry, that flew up with unmusical 

 squawks and a great flapping of wings, only 

 to settle down a little farther on. Some- 

 times an old water turkey, wet from his 

 fishing, would leap from the overhanging 

 limb where he was drying himself, and des- 

 perately flopping, would attempt to fly far- 

 ther up the creek, but his wet, bedraggled 

 wings proving unequal to the task, he would 

 finally hit the water with a splash, and 

 dive out of sight, as if ashamed of his mis- 

 erable attempt and failure. Others of his 

 brethren, as if observing his fiasco, and 

 profiting by it, would point their heads 

 downward and silently drop into the water, 

 causing scarcely a ripple. 



Running ashore at length, the^ trappers 

 found the swamp dry and firm in places, 

 and intersected with little trails bearing the 

 imprint of the feet of numerous coons and 

 other quadruped gentry of the marsh. 



Putting together the rod and tackle, the 

 trappers went to angling for fish to bait the 

 coon traps, but the results were disappoint- 

 ing. Mose was about to put away the 

 rod in disgust, but Uncle Snap said, 



"Throw out once more, and then count 

 50, and if you don't get a bite by that time 

 we'll quit 'em cold. That's the way I used 

 to do when I was a kid, and the fish 

 wouldn't bite, and I didn't know whether 

 to quit or not." 



Mose commenced counting slowly, 1-2- 

 3-4-5, etc., and when he had got some- 

 where in the forties the line trembled and 

 then moved away. 



"That's no bass," said U. S. "I'll bet it's 

 a confounded turtle." 



It was not, however, but a catfish of 2 

 o-r 3 pounds weight which came grunting 

 to the bank after a fierce resistance. 



Cutting him into suitable sized pieces, the 

 trappers went to setting traps, and in the 

 course of 2 hours made 18 or 20 sets, con- 

 cealing the traps near the well traveled 



trails, and suspending a scrap of fish over- 

 head on a stick or convenient bush. 



"There," said U. S., "if we don't have 

 something in the morning, I'll say the hoo- 

 doo is still on us." 



"Yes," said Mose, "if the fool swamp 

 rabbits don't spring 'em all." 



Reaching the canoe again, they set out 

 for camp, killing on the way 3 or 4 cur- 

 lews, for the next meal. 



"If we fool around this place long enough 

 we'll get another deer, I believe," observed 

 Mose. "I saw a good deal of fresh sign 

 while I was on that little dry oak ridge/' 



"Me, too," said U. S. ; "and I am in just 

 about the right condition to eat a whole 

 deer. Gee ! but I am hungry ! Let's bend 

 to the paddle and get to camp before star- 

 vation completes its fiendish work." 



An hour later the breasts and thighs of 

 the curlews were sputtering over the fire. 

 Biscuits were browning in the oven, and 

 in 10 minutes more, minutes which seemed 

 as hours to the hungry trappers, the feast 

 was on. 



"I tell you," said Mose, as he plunged 

 the gleaming steel of his 3-tined fork into 

 the shapely leg of a curlew, "this old say- 

 ing, that anticipation is better than realiza- 

 tion, is pure foolishness. Why, I'd rather 

 realize this juicy thigh than anticipate a 

 whole flock of curlew." 



"Well, I should titter," assented U. S. 

 "The old fossil who got that off never 

 was this hungry, or he'd have known better." 



And U. S. proceeded to realize a large 

 piece of breast and a nicely browned bis- 

 cuit. 



The day was ended as they washed up 

 the dishes, and as the sun dropped behind 

 the cypress an owl gave a hoot, off in the 

 swamp, like the sunset gun on some fort. 



Early the next morning the trappers 

 were astir. Breakfast over, they set off in 

 the little boat to see what prizes they had 

 drawn in the lottery of the wilderness. All 

 the otter traps save one were undisturbed, 

 and in that one, which was* set in a trail, 

 were* the remains of a swamp rabbit that 

 had monkeyed with the buzz saw, after 

 which some varmint had happened along 

 and eaten him. The leg bones of the unfor- 

 tunate rabbit were all that was left to tell 

 the tale of the tragedv. The trappers had 

 just reset the trap, and pushed off in the 

 canoe again, when the eagle optics of Mose 

 descried the heads of * otters swimming 

 rapidly downstream toward them. A word 



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