46 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 19, 1895. 
A CARIBOU PARADISE. 
It has long been r suspected that there was no lack of 
caribon in New Brunswick. If positive evidence was 
needed it is more than supplied by a hunting party 
which returned the other day from Nor-West Miramichi 
waters, where they fell over so many caribou that all 
the big game yarn spinners have been thrown out of a job 
for the winter. The story told by the boys reads like 
a romance, but they are both goodboys, who read Forest 
and Stream every week of their lives, and there is no 
reason whatever to doubt a word of it. There were two 
of them — Billy Chestnut and Bunny Phair. Billy has 
had a good deal of experience in moose and carioou 
shooting, and is a cool, reliable shot. Bunny has had a 
whole lot of experience, too, but is liable to very sudden 
and severe attacks of buck fever. They had with them 
as guide the well known hunter and trapper, Arthur 
Pringle, who is a deadly marksman as well as a gentle- 
man and a scholar, and who for many moons sat at the 
large, but luminous, feet of Henry Gamaliel Braithwaite. 
For several seasons the two men trapped and hunted 
together, until, strange to say, the fur became scarce, 
when the partnership was dissolved, Pringle opening up 
a business on his own hook on Nor-West waters, while 
Braithwaite hung out his sign at the old stand on the 
Little Sou-West Lake. As all-around woodsmen they 
have no equals in this province. When you come to 
talk of big game, there is not much choice between the 
two districts. Last fall a year ago Pringle and his 
brother shot three fine moose, one of the heads measur- 
ing four feet seven inches from tip to tip. If any of 
our American friends want to see where nature fairly 
humps herself — if they want to get away from the 
"debts, dims and deviltries" of city life — if they hanker 
for to slay the mighty moose and the coy, capricious 
caribou — I can recommend Arthur Pringle, Wayerton, 
Northumberland'County, N. B. , as a guide who will 
give them complete satisfaction. I am under no obliga- 
tion under Heaven to Mr. Pringle. I simply say it be- 
cause it is so. His location is easily reached, for there 
is an excellent wagon road from Newcastle to Camp 
Adams (36 miles), and from there, in the early autumn 
when big game is ripe, you can pole up the Nor-West 
in canoes to the very center of the hunting grounds 
where moose and caribou abound. I will advise also 
that a cook, or general utility man, be employed, 
whereby the guide can be left free to attend to hunting, 
and the work of carrying, of which there is more or 
less to be done, can be reduced to a minimum. The 
leading features of the hunting trip above referred to I 
give in Billy Chestnut's own words : 
"We left Fredericton on November 8, and sledded it 
through from Newcastle to Camp Adams on the Nor- 
West Miramichi, where Pringle met us on the 10th. 
He had just shot a young bull moose, and had a fine 
supper in readiness for us. We had expected to proceed 
to Camp Crawford, twelve miles further up stream, by 
canoe, but Pringle had not brought the canoe down, 
owing to the ice forming in the river, so we shouldered 
our packs at sunrise and frogged it through, reaching 
Crawford's in the evening. Here Pringle makes his 
base of operations. Two days later we tramped six miles 
further up the Forks, where Pringle has one of his 
hunting camps. We saw two fresh moose tracks on 
the shore, but did not follow them. Next day we 
started for Smoky Camp, six miles distant. We had 
scarcely taken leave of the Forks when we sighted three 
caribou, one of which had a fine set of horns, ont 
on the big barren. We got within 150 yards of them. 
"I had entered into a solemn contract with Bunny that 
he was to have the first shot, or I would have opened 
the ball at once. Bunny thought the game waB too far 
away for a sure shot, so Pringle and he worked down 
wind for the purpose of creeping up, but in the mean- 
time the caribou took alarm and disappeared. 
"We found on reaching Smoky Camp that it was well 
named. It was the joint product of the architectural 
genius of Braithwaite and Pringle, when they were 
trapping on these grounds some years before, and it 
must be admitted that, except as a smoke house, it was 
not a huge success. Our stay there, however, was 
short, as we pushed forward the next day, leaving the 
I« or- West stream behind us and then crossing the head 
of the Sevogle and camping on the south branch of the 
Nepisiguit. Here wo pitched our cotton tent, banked 
up the sides nicely with boughs and made ourselves as 
snug as possible. The chief difficulty was the item of 
fuel, as the only wood to be found was tamarack and 
prince's pine. 
"We had not left the camp more than twenty minutes 
next morning till we struck the trail of sixteen caribou. 
The tracks were all spread out at first, but as we fol- 
lowed them they converged and united in a single well- 
beaten path. As we were hustling over the barren in 
pursuit, a herd of five caribou, one a dignified old buck 
with a fine pair of horns, crossed the trail ahead of us. 
Bunny fired twice, but failed to connect. We found as 
we cruised around the barren that the larger drove had 
been only a short distance ahead, and had made off on 
the ball hop when they heard the crash of Bunny's 
50-110 Winchester. Sadly we retraced our steps for 
lunch when, within 200 yards of the tent, on a little 
island in the stream, we routed another herd of twenty 
caribou. Bunny was at once seized with acute symptoms 
of buck fever and fired his cannon again without success. 
I managed to let down the tail ender of the drove as 
they galloped off through the green woods. 
"After dressing the caribou and stowing some of it 
away, where it did a lot of good, we started out again. 
A small doe caribou showed up away off on the barren. 
Bunny braced up in great shape and scored a clean kill 
at 100 yards. He then climbed to the top of Bald 
Mountain, which is a hill about 200 feet high, com- 
pletely covered with white moss, not a tree or switch 
upon it of any kind. It is a famous resort for caribou, 
owing to the white moss on which they feed. From the 
summit we had a view of nine caribou down on the 
barren on the other side, one of which had a big spread 
of antlers. We slid down the hill, but when we got 
within range of the herd, the buck was not to be seen. 
We did not fire at them. Suddenly we caught sight 
down the barren to our left, and about 300 yards away, 
of the old buck aforesaid, and within a rabbit jump of 
him was the biggest drove of caribou that Pringle says 
he ever'saw or heard of The hard-hacks seemed to be 
fairly alive with them as they moved quietly around, 
cropping the moss and twigs. The plain was open on 
all sides and the problem was how to get near them. 
Whenever the animals had their heads down and none 
of them seemed to be on the alert Pringle and I ran 
rapidly towards them, getting such shelter as we could 
from the hard-hacks, posting Benny behind as a rear 
guard. We did not get more than half way down when 
we saw they were becoming restless. I fired at the 
old buck and dropped him in the snow, whereupon the 
whole drove lined up for a peep at us, and then, with 
cracking hoofs and waving flags, charged up the barren 
and out of sight around the spur of the hill. I counted 
43 of them as they went by, and Bunny said there was 
a left wing of seven caribou that went off in another 
direction. As the animals surged up the slope Pringle 
tiimbled two fine bucks in their tracks. We could have 
killed a number of them, but there were no other large 
heads among them. 
' ' Next morning we went out to cany in the heads, 
but as Bunny had. not yet brought down any horns he 
and Pringle took a cruise up the barren while I stayed 
behind to skin the buck I had shot the afternoon before. 
In less than half an hour they ran into a bunch of 1 2 
caribou The walking boss was scratching his shapely 
head in the bushes. Bunny fired five rounds from the 
cannon without disturbing him; then, as his ammuni- 
tion had given out, he tried him with Pringle's rifle 
and laid the brave old patriarch low. As they went up 
to skin and dress the buck, the remaining 11 caribou 
stood looking at them not more than 20 or 30 yards 
away. Then they started off in single file, but when 
Pringle gave the caribou call they halted and wheeled to 
the front and stood facing him like a rank of soldiers. 
They remained there motionless for over a minute and 
then went off like the whirlwind, scattering the light 
snow in clouds behind them. While I was dressing my 
caribou a young buck came up and walked, around me . in 
a circle for fully twenty minutes, but as he had no 
horns I did not bother with him, and he walked off 
quietly around the mountain. 
"After yarding up the meat for future use, we started 
next day to carry out our heads, and as we also had our 
packs and rifles were obliged to make a double trip of 
it to the Forks. Pringle was away from, us for three 
days, having gone down to Crawford's to pole up the 
canoe. While on the trail between Smoky Camp and 
the Forks we saw a drove of 33 caribou feeding in the 
valley of the south branch of the Nor-West. We had 
all the heads we could lug out in the time at our dis- 
posal and did not molest them. We poled down to 
Crawford's with our whole outfit, and were detained 
there two days by a heavy snow storm. The ice in the 
river was now quite strong — in the more rapid stretches 
the water was open — at other places we had to haul the 
canoe over the ice. We abandoned the water route, at 
McColley camp, four miles above Camp Adams". At the 
latter camp we were obliged to wait there until a port- 
age team came in. While Pringle was looking after his 
traps on November 24 he ran across three buck caribou, 
and it is interesting to note that while one of them had 
a nice set of horns, another had only one horn, and 
the biggest buck had shed both of his horns. Pringle 
said that he had picked up in previous years freshly 
shed caribou horns as early as November 15. 
"While delayed at Camp Crawford we saw some 
moose signs, but the weather was bad and the crust 
heavy, and we spent only half a day in looking for them. 
In this vicinity are the best moose grounds on the Nor- 
West waters, and the chances for calling at the right 
season are good. All three of the fine heads Pringle and 
his brother brought out last fall were secured within 
two miles of Crawford's camp. 
"Pringle says that it is a mistake to suppose that 
there are two varieties of caribou in New Brunswick. 
The woodland variety is the only one he has ever seen. 
There is a great deal of difference in the appearance of 
individuals as to size and color. Some are fawn colored 
with dappled spots on the back ; some have perfectly 
white necks and bellies, while others have markings of 
drab or dirty grey. The color of their horns, as in the 
case of the moose, is somewhat affected by the bark they 
have rubbed against. The number of points will indi- 
cate, though not with certainty, the age of the animal. 
It often happens that some, of the points are entirely 
rubbed off when the horns are in the velvet. There is the 
greatest possible variety in the shape of caribou horns, 
no two animals by any chance having horns that look 
much alike. Young bucks have comparatively straight 
horns, with few branches, and in a tussle for possession 
of the harem they are usually more than a match for the 
older ones My own buck had 28 points, Bunny's had 
29, and Pringle's largest had 19. Pringle'says that some 
caribou are much less addicted to rubbing than others 
and carry the velvet as late as September. It is my 
opinion from what I saw on this trip that nearly, if not 
quite, all cow caribou carry horns of some description. ' ' 
Strange to say, Bill's testimony differs from that of 
Bunny on the cow-horn problem ; the latter claiming 
that very few of the cows they saw had any horns at all. 
It also differs from the observation of the undersigned. 
Duing our cruise with Braithwaite this fall, Mr. Ire- 
land and I saw only one cow caribou that wore these 
ornaments. On the other hand, my venerable friend, 
Chief Gable, who is so old that he ought to see the im- 
portance of telling the truth, and'who has killed so many 
caribou in his time that he is afraid to tell about it 
when he happens to be sober, says that all cow caribou 
over two years of age without exception carry horns. It 
looks to me as though the most that can be said is that 
some cows have horns, while others have not. We will 
have to posses our souls in patience until somebody gets 
up in the amen corner ^who can tell us the why and 
wherefore and how many. Pbowhee. 
Fbedebicton. 
^mwer$ to (^ormigondqnh. 
P. L. B., Dresden, O. — 1. Where oan I find good deer and bear 
shooting in the Virginias? 2. Can the above be found in Ohio in 
fair numbers? 3. Can I find good turkey shooting any place in 
Ohio? If so, where? Ans. 1. Write E. A. Watson, Nimrod Hall, 
Bath county, Va. 2 and 3. We know of no place. 
R. S., Madison, Wis. — You may piece out the weak priming hy 
using black powder, but it is better to use the primers specially 
mad© for nltro powders. 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 
The West of the Present and the Past. 
UNCLE BTTjIj HAMILTON. 
Chicago, Dec. 25. — No man could have been sheriff 
at old Fort Benton in the old days without being of 
approved bnwery and decision of character, and all 
through his term of office Bill Hamilton was respected 
alike for his courage and his integrity. It is a curious 
comment on the methods of those days that, after 
Hamilton had served satisfactorily for some time in 
office, it transpired that he had been naturalized in 
British America and had not taken out his naturaliza- 
tion papers again in America, where he had once been 
naturalized — if, indeed, he could have done so in the 
second instance. But the fact that he was a citizen of 
both America and England, or perhaps of neither, did 
not seem to make much difference to the men who 
elected him sheriff. They wanted him to catch their 
criminals for them, and he did this faithfully and satis- 
factorily. There are a great many needless frills in 
political matters, anyhow. 
Hamilton as Prospector. 
Uncle Bill does not appear to have cared much about 
mining, and preferred scouting and Indian trading. 
Yet, when the "Wind River Stampede" of the early 
70 's took place, when the big band of prospectors left 
Bozeman to go through the Big Horn country, ho 
appears to have forgotten his preferences. Maybe he 
went as guide through the hostile Indian country. Any- 
how, he was along — possibly through sheer love of 
adventure. The history made by this band of frontiers- 
men is written deep to-day in the hearts of the trihpp 
who opposed them. The expedition was made up of the 
flower of the Montana frontiersmen, and they left a 
terrible record behind them. 
No expedition of the West was ever more disastrous to 
the Indians, or more successful for itself. These men. 
were out for several months. Uncle Bill told me that 
they went down the Yellowstone Valley to the mouth of 
the Big Horn, then up that stream All along the latter 
stream they were fighting Indians. The expedition 
fought thirteen pitched battles with the united forces 
of the Indians, and had skirmishes almost every day. 
Let us remember this was not an army expedition, but 
just one of men going out to see the country. Uncle 
Bill says they probably killed 200 Indians. They played 
all kinds of tricks on the Indians, such as leaving 
poisoned sugar behind in the camp, or "doctored" rifle 
cartridges, loaded with dynamite instead of powder. 
Sometimes they would make believe they had buried a 
man, planting instead a lot of dynamite, with cap and 
fuse fastened to a board, so that the Indians in digging 
up the supposed white man in order to get his scalp 
would set off a baddish sort of torpedo instead. The 
mining men and their dynamite played so many tricks 
of this kind that after a while the Indians thought that 
there were evil spirits among the whites, and. finally 
ceased to follow them, and called back the tribes. This 
was the more easily the oase because of the exceptional 
good luck of the white men. They lost only one man 
killed on the trip, and he was buried and his grave 
covered by the earthworks which the whites threw up, 
so that the Indians never found the grave. They said 
the white men were devils and could not be killed. %*-4 
Surely that must have been a hard fighting crowd. 
Uncle Bill told me that the Indians were about them 
in swarms. "In one fight, " said he, "40 men whipped 
1,500 Indians. We formed a line and waited for them 
as they charged. Each man was on one knee and in 
front of him he had his hat full of catrridges. We 
mostly shot the old Sharp's buffalo rifle. We waited till 
they got pretty close, and we were all good shots and 
we fairly mowed them down. The white man could 
always otttshoot the Indian, and he was always braver. 
Those Indians would rarely ever come back for more 
than one charge. I count the Cheyennes as the bravest 
fighters of the Indian tribes. They would nearly always 
charge twice. The Arapahoes would also sometimes 
charge twice. 
The SHmx would hardly ever charge more than once. 
None of them were real fighting men such as we had. 
Why, we had mere boys, farmer boys 18 years old, from 
the' Gallatin Valley back of Bozeman, who outfought 
any Indian that ever lived. In fact, they fought just as 
well as any of us older men. Once, I remember, when 
we had a heavy charge coming in front and most of us 
were on the firing line there our leader called for volun- 
teers to go back and clean out a coulee full of Indians 
who were creeping in back of us. Eight of those boys, 
that we didn't think steady euough for the firing line, 
volunteered, and they jumped down into that gulley 
with nothing but their six-shooters and ran every 
Indian out of it and shot them right and left. And 
yet they talk to me about the heroio bravery of the 
redman !" And here the old man's fist smote the table, 
his voice rising in the only excitement Uever saw him 
show. 
Hamilton as Scout. 
When the army was operating in the Yellowstone, 
Big Horn and Rosebud countries in the 70's, before 
the time of the sad Custer campaign, there was much 
need of good guides and scouts, and many of the old- 
time frontiersmen went into the service, Bill Hamilton 
naturally among others. Hamilton, Johnson, Laforge, 
Mitch Booyer, Reynolds and, in all, dozens of others I 
suppose, all hardy fellows and many of them fine ones, 
were out with one or other of the columns of the army, 
one division of which was under Ouster, and history 
tells that not aD of these men came back. Hamilton 
was among Custer's first scouts and was with the army 
years before the Rosebud campaign, employed at the 
close of the Nez Perce campaign, and'a great friend of 
Lieutenant Bradley, who was killed at the battle of the 
Big Hole (Lieutenant Bradley was the author"of a most 
interesting monograph, on Indian life and "'customs, 
which in the manuscript fell into the hands of the 
Montana Historical Society. That^body will soon pub- 
lish a part of it. ) 
A very common arrangement with these scouts, 
perhaps not understood at the War Department, 'but 
certainly understood by the commanding officers on T the 
front, was for a scout to hire out, say, for $5 a day and 
