218 



RECREATION 



tie farm house flowed the clearest, 

 nicest little salmon river, and there was 

 plenty of game in the surrounding for- 

 ests. The moose in the mating season 

 often crossed here, and more than once 

 had picked out Amos's yard as the place 

 to wade the shallow river. Amos says 

 so, and who will doubt Amos, who 

 never had been known in all his life to 

 deviate in the smallest degree from the 

 straight and narrow pathway of strict 

 veracity? Back from the settlement 

 for a distance of ten miles, as far as 

 "the Branch," was a line of bear traps, 

 over which Amos passed once a week, 

 in season, with unfailing regularity and 

 with fair success. This and a thousand 

 and one other things which a man sees 

 in the real, big w T oods, and which the 

 nature students are supposed to be able 

 to tell us all about, should have made 

 any reasonable man contented. But one 

 could not fail to note the tone of regret, 

 as the mind went back to the good old 

 times when it was really worth a man's 

 while to spend a winter in the woods, 

 trapping. Even at the present time 

 there be those to vouch that Amos was 

 a good hunter and a successful one. 

 Serious minded, as woodmen so often 

 are who live in the great woods face 

 to face with Nature, Amos perhaps errs 

 upon the side of modesty in relating 

 his adventures, and makes no attempt 

 to conceal the note of occasional mis- 

 fortune observable in many of the in- 

 cidents that he is fond of relating. For- 

 mality has been dispensed with and we 

 are seated on the floor, to all intents and 

 purposes no longer within a house, but 

 beside the snapping campfire in the 

 depths of the primeval forest. 



"Why, over there in the bogun, and 

 everywhere along the main river, the 

 beavers was as thick as musquash is 

 now ! When I got old enough to trap, 

 I didn't think nothin' of gettin' four to 

 six dozen beaver in a season. It's the 

 lumbermen that's trapped everything 

 off; when the logs are gone the fur is 

 gone too." 



Encouraged by respectful silence, 

 Amos continued : 



"I larnt my trappin' from a man they 



called 'Long Scott.' Scott was his 

 name. He was an Irishman, a tall man, 

 as tall as you are, a big man, too. He 

 was the most profane man I ever knew, 

 and the best trapper. He knew how to 

 ketch the beaver and orter ! But I never 

 heard a man swear like he did. He had 

 a regular string of it he used to say, 

 and you'd a- thought to a-heard him that 

 is was a Methodist minister. 'By the 

 great and etarnal,' he'd start in with. 

 He'd git mad, and be that mean and 

 contrary, jist at himself ! When he tried 

 to light a match, and the wind was 

 blowin', he would say nothin' when the 

 first match went out. When the second 

 one went out he'd begin to puss, and 

 when the third went out then he'd com- 

 mence a string. He'd throw his hat 

 down and jump on it, and swear! 

 When a bush struck him in the face, I 

 seen him jist chaw the bushes in his 

 rage. But he'd be pleasant to you or 

 me ; he'd git mad jist at himself ! 



"One day we was goin' up Little 

 Tobique, and Long Scott was ahead. 

 When I got to the White-fish Hole I 

 come up with him. There he was, he 

 had his hat down, and his hands 

 spread, jist a-prayin' ! It was a cold 

 day, about Christmas, and we had five 

 miles to go. He got his foot wet, that's 

 all. I didn't say nothin' to him till a 

 ways on. Then I says to him, 'Let's 

 stop here, Mr. Scott. I'll build a fire 

 and you can put a dry sock on.' 



" Tf the tarnal thing wants to freeze 

 I ain't goin' to hinder it/ says he. He 

 wouldn't stop ; he was that contrary. 

 The foot froze. When we got to camp 

 the foot was froze white. He didn't 

 do nothin' but set in camp till spring, 

 doin' nothin' but fish a little through the 

 ice! 



"One time me and Scott went out to 

 an old camp, to set a bear trap. He had 

 a gun. It was a nice one, made before 

 these breechloaders come into fashion in 

 this country. One barrel was a rifle 

 and the other was a shot-gun, and I 

 never could tell which barrel was the 

 rifle and which was the shot-gun, with- 

 out 'takin' it down.' I was walkin' on 

 ahead with the gun over my shoulder, 



