2 
FOREST! AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 5, 1895. 
DUTCH HENRY AND THE BEAR. 
While running through an old diary the other day in 
which were occasional and brief notes concerning some 
incidents of life in our camp I came across a name the 
mere mention of which, I am certain, would bring 
smiles to the many faces of those who knew him in the 
days gone by. There was nothing at all engaging j in 
his appearance, but about the quaint, jovial personality 
of "Dutch Henry" there clusters a host of pleasing 
reminiscences. 
As his name would imply, he Was a German, and if 
his appearance in any way belied his nationality his 
speech proclaimed it in no uncertain tones, for he 
possessed a dialect which would have driven Gus Wil- 
liams wild with envy. In figure he was rather short 
and stout, but was quick in his movements and pos- 
sessed of tireless energy and phenomenal endurance. 
He had a large, round and quite rubicund face, which 
phase of his personality was intensified by fiery red 
whiskers and hair. I said his face was large and round, 
but when it comes to describing the capacities of that 
face in mirroring the emotions which throbbed under- 
neath Henry's well worn and rather soiled shirt, I throw 
up my hands in mute despair. He was, I think, with- 
out exception, the most thorough going and consistent 
optimist I ever saw, for never do I recollect seeing 
him cast down, although at times old hard luck jogged 
close on his heels. His good nature, however, was proof 
against everything, and the quaint manner in which he 
used to relate his experiences never failed to attract a 
knot of interested and amused listeners. The men used 
to joke him a good deal, as they enjoyed intensely the 
amusing comments which were certain to follow, and 
not a few practical jokes were played upon him, many 
of them exceedingly funny, all of which he took with 
the most imperturbable good nature, frequently laugh- 
ing harder than anyone else at his own discomfitures. 
Who of those who heard it will ever forget Henry's 
account of the ghost which he swore he saw one night 
swinging from the limb of the tree on which ' ' Big 
Mike'* had been hanged by the vigilantes some time 
before ? 
Some graceless fellow had, it seems, suspended from 
the limb in question a white quaking asp log about the 
length of a good sized man, and as it slowly swung to 
and fro from the limb of the tree' which most of the 
men in camp always regarded with a certain amount of 
squeamishness when passing it after dark, it looked as 
much like a ghost as it is possible to imagine, and 
presented a spectacle well calculated to send a chill to 
the stoutest heart. Henry had, I think, a firmly 
grounded belief in ghosts, but in any event it was not 
at all surprising that, when passing this lonely and 
uncanny spot one night and seeing this sepulchral like 
object slowly swinging from the limb of "Big Mike's 
tree, ' ' as it was called, he should be grievously shocked 
and frightened. There was not the slightest doubt in 
his mind that he was gazing on a real ghost, Which 
opinion was amply confirmed by his appearance when 
he reached camp a few minutes later, for he told me 
confidentially that he "runned like der duyvl vas after 
me. ' ' Out of breath, with pale face and bulging eyes, 
he rushed into the store where there were a dozen or 
more men gathered, and so evident was his agitation 
that several voices simultaneously asked what was the 
matter with him. Casting a frightened glance behind 
him as though fearful that the spook might still be after 
him, he managed after considerable effort at composure 
to reply, ' ' That vas de matter mid me ? Vail, I shust 
see a — vot you call dot somedings dot vas ded already 
yet?" 
No one for a moment seemed to comprehend the drift 
of his question, but in an instant some one replied : 
"Do you mean a ghost, Henry?" 
"Yah, yah, yah," he excitedly exclaimed, "dot vas 
vot I see on de tree, vot they hang ' Big Mike ' on. ' ' 
His appearance and excited demeanor left no doubt as 
to his thorough earnestness in the matter, and inasmuch 
as several of the men were inclined to believe in spooks, 
and all of them had a sort of creepy feeling when pass- 
ing "Big Mike's tree" at night, Henry's positive 
assertion created something of a sensation. The look of 
amusement upon their faces gave way to expressions of 
startled interest, and there was an evident purpose to 
learn the particulars of Henry's experience, when some 
one remarked in a tone of decided incredulity : ' ' Oh, 
pshaw ! You didn't see anything on that tree. What are 
you talkin' about?" 
"Don'd I?"shouted Henry in a tone of excited, indig- 
nant protest. "Vas I plind? Vas I grazy dot I don'd 
know noddings vot I see somedimes?" And then after a 
moment's pause he added in a tone of contemptuous 
disgust : ' ' You make foolish. ' ' 
"What did you see, Henry?" asked another of the 
men anxious to hear his story. 
"Vail, " he replied in mollified tones turning to his 
questioner, ' ' shust as I cross dot pole breedge I see dot 
long somedings vhite shust like a pig man. He go dees 
vay und den he go dot, ' ' imitating the slow swinging 
motion of the log. ' ' Gott und himmel, don'd I vas 
scared ! Den I dink I hear somedings in de droat like a 
man vas shoking much, und den I hear noddings more 
for I runned like der duyvil. ' ' 
Time may efface many things from my mind, but it 
can never efface the effect of that brief speech, set off 
as it was by Henry 's appearance and actions. The effect 
was irresistible, and although many of those present 
were inclined to think that perhaps he did see some- 
thing after all, yet no one could resist the effect of that 
speech, and an uproarious shout of laughter followed his 
last words. 
M "Maybe you mens dink I vas a liar?" said Henry in 
an injured tone, "but I bet you anydings you vant dot 
you mens von't make so foolish ven you see dot ghose 
shust like I. " 
The next morning revealed the cause of Henry's 
alarm, and much to his disgust and disappointment, for 
I think that he took a deep sense of satisfaction and 
pride in the thought that he really had gazed upon an 
undoubted spook "It vos dot Dan Peeler" (Beeler 
was his name and he delighted in playing tricks on 
Henry), he said, "he do dot to make foolish of me by 
der mens. ' ' 
But the "chef d'eeuvre" of Henry's experiences, the 
one incident that will go rumbling down the musty 
annals of time, was his adventure with the bear, I 
cannot swear to the truth of this from actual knowl- 
edge, but Henry solemnly swore that it was gospel 
truth, and, save in unessential details, I am rather in- 
clined to believe that it is as he declared it to be. 
A good share of Henry's time was occupied in pros- 
pecting about the tops contiguous to Geneva Gulch, and 
when so engaged he lived in an old log cabin down 
in the valley. A fellow by the name of Joe Bullen,a 
prospector like himself, occupied the cabin with him, 
although they worked independently of one another. 
They were an odd pair, but seemingly got along very 
well together, having many tastes in common, not the 
least of which was a pronounced one for schnapps and 
beer, which they gratified occasionally at the stage sta- 
tion at the mouth of the gulch, a few miles distant. 
One memorable Saturday night they had a more 
than usually interesting seance of this character, one 
feature of which was a most sanguinary straggle at 
' ' old sledge, ' ' in which Henry, fortified by numberless 
glasses of beer, succeeded in inflicting a veritable 
"Waterloo" upon Joe. Joe was usually the victor in 
these contests, and Henry's unequivocal triumph this 
night filled his heart with that haughty ' 'pride which 
goeth before a fall. ' ' He could not refrain from mildly 
taunting Joe about his defeat, all of which the latter 
took in a very ill-natured spirit, so much so as to finally 
declare that he didn't want to have anything more to 
do with Henry, and declined flatly to go home with 
him when he announced his intention of returning to 
the cabin. There was ground for the suspicion that 
Joe's decision in this matter might have been influ- 
enced to some extent by the rather unstable condition of 
his legs, which owing to the fact that he had been 
steadily imbibing schnapps during the progress of the 
game, seemed to be on the verge of a sudden attack of 
muscular failure. Henry evidently thought that a little 
delay would not be detrimental to his partner, for he 
didn't urge him to accompany him, but started out for 
the cabin alone. He was moved to do this by a knowl- 
edge of the fact that Joe would probably follow more 
quickly when thus left alone, than if he were to stay 
and urge him to accompany him. 
It may be remarked incidentally too, that Henry 
was feeling pretty well himself independent of the 
exultation incident upon his victory over Joe, but his 
locomotion was not affected, and it did not take him 
very long to cover the distance to his cabin. This, too, 
despite the fact that he carried quite a load, for he had 
invested in a good-sized piece of bacon and quite a largo 
chunk of fresh meat, this being a luxury which he 
seldom indulged in save when he chanced to bag an 
occasional black tail or antelope, or when some passing 
hunter gave to him from an abundant store. All the 
way, up his mind dwelt with a sense of most pleasing 
satisfaction upon his victory over Joe, for it was a con- 
summation which he had most eagerly longed for, and 
many times was his face wreathed in smiles as he recalled 
the evident chagrin with which Joe took his defeat. 
It was in this frame of mind that he reached his 
cabin, and after depositing his burden on an old table 
he lighted a candle, filled his pipe and sat down to 
enjoy again in retrospection the sweets of his recent 
victory. The cabin contained two rooms, or at least 
there was a rough, low partition which purported to 
divide it into two rooms, the outer one of which — that 
near the door — was used as a sort of store room, while 
the other was devoted to living purposes. It was in the 
latter that Henry sat down and puffed away in a state 
of boozy, happy content, now recalling various incidents 
of his contest with Joe and then speculating as to Joe's 
homeward progress, for he had little doubt that his 
partner was now on his way to the cabin. 
Thus he sat for some little time, when suddenly the 
door opened and he heard a slow shuffling movement as 
of some one crawling across the floor. 
"My, but don'd vas Sho awful drank,'' he thought 
to himself, and he shook with inward laughter at the 
sad plight of his pardner. "Sho he drink too much 
schnapps, ' ' x*an his thoughts, ' ' den I dink he vas all 
proke up by dot vay I peat him, ' ' and again he was con- 
vulsed with inward laughter. 
' ' I vonder dot he effer got home, he vas so drunk, ' ' 
he went on, ' ' he must all preak up shoost vhen he got 
by der haus, odder he haf never been here by morgen 
yet." 
Then he heard the sound of tearing paper in the other 
room and then one of his bundles of meat fell to the 
floor with a heavy sound. 
' ' I dink Sho vas hoongry, ' ' he thought, and again 
was he overcome with merriment at the thought of his 
pardner trying to eat the raw bacon and meat which he 
had brought home with him. "Maybe he vas so mad 
abowd dot game dot he don'd gare vedder dot meat vas 
cook oder not ; ' ' which thought tickled him so immensely 
that it was only with the greatest difficulty he was able 
to keep from laughing outright. 
Then the sound of some one crunching meat came to 
his ears, and of such a stalwart character was it that it 
surprised him not a little. 
"My, I dink Sho vas gone grazy dot he eat dot meat 
so," he thought. He had previously decided to pre- 
serve a strict silence until Joe saw fit to come into the 
room where he was, but the soruids that came from the 
other room made him feel a trifle uneasy, until at length 
he thought it better to break his silence. 
"Sho," he said in kindly tones, "don'd eat dot 
meat, it don'd vas cook yet, it make you seek already. " 
But no response greeted his words, and after waiting 
a minute or so, during which the munching sounds 
came steadily to his ears, he spoke again and this time 
with a slight tone of disgust in his voice : "Sho, don'd 
make foolish. Don'd make mad abowd dot game yet. 
I peat you fair, und vhy don'd you stop dot foolish 
abowd it. " 
Again did silence follow his words, save for that 
steady, persistent crunching. ' ' Sho, ' ' almost shouted 
Henry this time, "don'd make so foolish mit me. Yen 
you peats me I don'd vas so fool like you vas abowd it. ' ' 
Silence again, and then Henry, thoroughly exasper- 
uted, shouted as he rose to his feet, took the candle and 
started for the other room. "Sho, I dink you -vas so 
big a fool vot]T never haf saw. I vas dink you know 
somedings, but I*don'd*somedimes any more yet. " 
As he entered the other room he was confronted not 
by Joe, but by a big black bear, which, having finished 
Henry's supply of fresh meat, was looking about, Alex- 
ander like, for more worlds to devour. 
To say that Henry^was surprised is a rather feeble 
estimate as to the reahfacts in the case. He was figura- 
tively and literally paralyzed, and afterwards he owned 
up to me confidentially that the shock which he experi- 
enced from beholding the spook in "Big Mike's tree" 
wasn't a circumstance to the one which took hold Of 
him as he gazed on that bear. He stood for a moment 
rooted to the spot, and then with a wild yell of terror 
he dropped his candle and made a mad plunge for the 
outer door. 
There must have been something appalling about 
Henry's appearance and yell, for bold bruin, who had 
hitherto seemingly been unmoved by the presence of 
Henry in the other room and the sound of his voice, 
suddenly became inspired with a frantic longing for 
the freedom of the open air, and he likewise bolted, for 
the door. If the bear had only delayed his departure a, 
moment all might have gone well, but as it was he 
reached the door about the same moment as Henry, 
and as they wore moving from opposite directions the 
old formula of two imponderable bodies meeting was 
again illustrated with the usual results. Henry swears, 
too, that the bear gave him one with his right, but, 
however that may be, he described a graceful inshoot and 
during the course of his flight collided with the old 
table, and with most disastrous results to this piece of 
frrrniture. Desperate as was his situation, it was ren- 
dered infinitely more unpleasant by the fact that the 
outer door was closed, which fact explained why the 
bear had not gone away with his booty after capturing 
it ; and as Henry could hear him scratching at it and 
working desperately to make his way out, he lost all 
interest in the door as an avenue of escape for himself. 
Several moments thus passed, during which time 
Henry lay very low, for he was not at all anxious to 
remind the bear that he was still present with him, 
when suddenly the door was pushed open from without. 
Joe had returned, and as he pushed open the door the 
bear, which had gradually been working up to a state 
of considerable nervous excitement, took advantage of 
the opportunity and proceeded to get out. There wasn't 
the slightest decorum or formality about his departure 
either, and as he shot out he struck Joe and sent him 
a-sprawling several feet from the door. 
The man, still befuddled as he was with liquor, was 
too surprised for a few seconds to form any idea as to 
what had struck him, but in a moment he decided as to 
the cause, and as he slowly picked himself up he roared 
in a f my of half drunken rage : " Ye Dutchman. What 
do ye mean by junipin' on me like this? Ye ain't sat- 
isfied with beating me at cards, but yer want ter kill 
me, too. I kin lick yer, and I'm goin' to do it, too." 
Henry had by this time reached the door, and as 
Joe's savage threats came to his ears he understood in a 
moment what had happened. The keen humor of the 
situation appealed to him irresistibly, and although he 
tried to smother his laughter he succeeded very poorly 
as he answered: "Sho, it don'd vas mo, it vas a pear. " 
"A bear," roared the other, more infuriated than ever 
by Henry's evident mirth. "What do yer take me for? 
I'll bear yo. " And with that he made a rush at Henry. 
The latter was no match for Joe in a rough and tumble 
fight, and he knew it, and without stopping to argue 
the matter he turned and fled. Joe only chased him a 
few feet when he turned about, entered the cabin and 
proceeded to close and bolt the door. 
Then the element of humor seemed to Henry to sud- 
denly fly out of the situation, for he realized that Joe 
probably would not let him in, and the prospect of 
camping on the outside for the rest of the night 
without covering of any description was not pleasant 
to contemplate. He decided to wait a few minutes 
in order to let Joe's anger cool off a bit and then to 
attempt to explain the matter to him. 
After a little he approached the door and knocking 
at it vigorously said in a very conciliatory tone : 1 ' Sho, 
Sho, I want to oxblain dot matter mit you. ' ' 
' ' Get out, ' ' came the Surly response from within. 
"But, Sho, it don'd vas me," said Henry in an en- 
treating tone ; "one bear it vas done it und he eat my 
meat und he drashed me already yet. ' ' 
"Well, ye'd better go and find him and bunk with 
him, then, ' 'said Joe, " fer I'll not let ye in here to-night. ' ' 
And Joe was true to his word, for despite Henry's most 
seductive pleading he declined to open the door to him. 
And thus it came about that after an horn- or so of 
waiting around Henry finally started for the stage sta- 
tion, for the night was too cold for him to remain out- 
side. Quite naturally his disgust with the bear and 
especially with Joe was utterly immeasurable, and his 
explanation to those at the station of the cause of his re- 
turn was nearly responsible for several cases of hysterics. 
The next morning Joe readilly saw from the appear- 
ance of the door that Henry's tale about the bear was true 
after aU, and when a little later Henry hove in sight 
Joe was profuse in his regrets for having locked him 
out the night before. At the same time I have always 
thought that there was a rather deep sense of satisfac- 
tion to him in the thought that he had evened up mat- 
ters with Henry quite effectually for his defeat at ' ' old 
sledge. ' ' 
The incident was so remarkable that Henry had 
to come over to our camp that day and tell us about it, 
and when under the inspiration of several glasses of 
beer he recounted the story much as I have told it, its 
effect upon his auditors can readily be imagined. 
There were not a few who were disposed to think 
that he made it out of whole cloth, but his very evident 
sincerity impressed me with the fact that he was telling 
the truth. In any event, it was a good story, and as 
such I give it to the Fobest and Stbeam. Sancho. 
Prairie Chickens. 
Recent reports received by me Chicago, Milwaukee k St. Paul Rail- 
way from stations in the prairie chicken country of Minnesota and 
South Dakota all indicate a prospect of the beat hunting for years. 
Chickens are very plentiful and in fine condition. Duck shooting 
prospects are also good. Pun information can be had by addressing 
Ticket Agent, Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Bailway, 207 Clark 
street Chicago. — Adv. 
