AN EIGHT-POUND CUSK 



LEARNT FROM GLASGOW 



BY MARTIN HUNTER 



HE following bush 

 knowledge was not ac- 

 quired from the City of 

 Glasgow, as the head- 

 ing might naturally 

 lead the reader at first 

 glance to infer, but 

 from a celebrated 

 hunter and trapper of 

 that name who roamed the northern woods 

 in the early sixties. 



I may say, almost, that I served my ap- 

 prenticeship with him, as we were together 

 for two seasons in my verdant days. 



His name was Peter Glasgow, or rather 

 that was the name he went under, for I sus- 

 pect Glasgow was an assumed cognomen, 

 for once in a talkative mood he made casual 

 reference to having been on a water-logged 

 vessel in his early career in which the crew, 

 from dire necessity, resorted to cannibalism, 

 and I fancy after that sad experience he 

 dropped his proper surname and adopted 

 the uncommon one under which I and others 

 knew him. 



He was deformed by a hump back, and 

 from Dumas' description of his "Hunch 

 Back of Notre Dame," might have been his 

 double, and he was the last person one would 

 think capable or likely to adopt a bush life. 

 But what he lacked in activity he made up 

 in sureness. He was methodical in all his 

 movements, even to his walk; this was no 

 doubt a necessity from his formation. 



His stride on the tramp I do not think 

 exceeded twenty-four inches, yet I have 



known him to leave camp at daylight and 

 by sundown he had left a trail forty-five 

 miles long behind him, and that on the hard- 

 est of walking ice. 



With this, no doubt unnecessary pre- 

 amble, I will give some of the useful things I 

 learned from him. 



Glasgow always had his moose or deer- 

 skin moccasins sewed in such a way that 

 they were reversible. He explained this to 

 me as economy. He would use them when 

 first new neshside out; when this surface 

 was pretty well worn over, he then used 

 them grain side out. He proved to me that 

 you have thus much more wear out of the 

 shoe. And it stands to reason, for once the 

 grain, or smooth side, is worn through there 

 is no more resistance, as the flesh side alone 

 is not much stronger than a piece of flannel. 



Holding an ordinary frying pan over a hot 

 blaze is pretty trying and hard on the hands. 

 Glasgow got over this difficulty by splitting 

 a length of sapling a few feet long and in- 

 serting the handle in the crack, thereby 

 lengthening the original handle. In this way 

 the distance you can stand from the fire is 

 only limited by the length of the pole attach- 

 ment, and it would be possible for the fire 

 to be in one county and the man behind the 

 handle in the next. 



The water we required for our culinary 

 and washing purposes was taken, in the 

 winter, from a hole in the ice, either from 

 the river or lake near which we were camped. 

 This hole, if left as it was after dipping the 

 last kettle full in the evening, would be cov- 



