330 
[Oc*. H, 1896. 
A trifling thing, becomes pticeless after forty years have 
passed. That's all! 
When the old trapper threw down his load and said, 
"We make here our house," his partner, who had begun 
to think that there was no end to the journey, rejoiced. 
On a little knoU we laid the foundation for the cabin. 
Antoine was one of those men who are so handy with an 
axe that you wouldn't be surprised to see a clock made by 
him with that tool alone, and he measured and notched 
the logs and showed me how to put the small ends, that 
made the sides, to the rear and so help the slant of the 
roof. He split the long 3ft. shingles, a few "puncheons" 
for part of a floor, on which we slept, and also for the 
door frames and the door. We chinked the logs and 
plastered them with clay mixed with coarse grass, made 
a fireplace and stone chimney, and then we were in a 
10x12 cabin with a shed roof on which was piled a lot of 
grass kept in place by weight poles. A stone oven was 
made in the fireplace where we could not only bake 
bread, raised with cream o' tartar and soda, but could also 
roast a goose or a venison ham. 
Not until we began to build our camp would the old 
man let me kill a deer, although we saw plenty of them, 
because he said that we could not carry any part of it; 
so we had lived on partridges, rabbits and a coon on the 
journey, and a change to venison was good. The bed was 
made with hemlock boughs on the puncheons, and covered 
with a tarpaulin and blankets. A swinging shelf was made 
to hold the remaining provisions secure from rats or other 
intruders, and we started down stream for supplies, tak- 
ing only one rifle, an axe and enough salt, matches, etc. , 
to last a week, for we had been three days going up from 
the place where the boat was left. After a two days' 
tramp we found our provisions as we had left them, and 
loaded up again and started for camp. Just how it hap- 
pened, no one knows; my rifle had only one trigger, and 
that could be "set" by pushing it forward, and the "set" 
was so light that a breath would almost let it off. Of 
course it could be used without the "set," and then it took 
about a 2lb. pull to let it go. I had started ahead, and in 
my pack was the frying pan, which projected over my 
shoulder alongside my head. Suddenly a shot startled 
me close to my ear, and on looking around at Antoine 
he said: "What for he go so easy? I fought I kill one 
• pa'tridge on de tree yonder, an' I on'y make a hole in dat 
fry-pan; de t'ing go off too quick, an' I mos' kill you, 
hey?" 
The grouse had not stirred, and I loaded the rifle, 
showed Antoine how a single trigger could be set to a 
"hair," and he picked the head off the partridge, saying: 
"Ba gosh! he go so easy as a gun wit' two trigrger; I doan 
on'stan' dat." He learned the trick, and after beating 
down the edges of the hole in the frying-pan and putting 
in one of the trap rivets and battering it down with the 
poll of the axe we went on. It took four trips to get all 
our plunder from the boat to the camp, and the snows 
had fallen before the last one was made, and our snow- 
shoes were worn instead of being carried, for without 
them we would have been there until spring, for the snow 
was 2ft, deep and still falling when we reached our cabin. 
To our surprise there was smoke coming from the chim- 
ney, and when we opened the door there was an Indian 
cooking a rabbit by the fire. 
He arose, shook hands with Antoine and then with me, 
and the Frenchman and he sat down and talked in the 
Ojibwa tongue for a while, and then my friend explained 
the matter in this way: The red man was an old acquain- 
tance who had found our camp and entered, as was their 
custom; he knew Antoine's rifle, saw that the camp was 
new, and, waited for our return. He tapped his breast 
and said to me, "JNidgee," which I understood to be his 
name and so called him, although I afterward learned 
that the word meant simply "friend," 
It is diflicult to get at the way these Indian words 
should be spslt; for instance: They call themselves O jib- 
wah and the white man first twists it into Ojibway and 
then into "Chippeway." The word which I spell "Nidgee" 
is sometimes given as "Nitchee," and so it goes; it's a 
question of how it sounds and how it may be twisted at 
second hand. When I was among them they pronounced 
the tribal name with an almost imperceptible "O" and 
the accent on the second syllable, as given above. Our 
red friend came and went at intervals all winter, never 
saying a word at leaving and only giving a salutary grunt 
on arriving. Antoine explained that his friend's name 
was Ah-se-bun, or Raccoon, and that he was a good 
man to know; I gave him a big plug of tobacco and we 
were friends. 
After getting settled in good shape and the cabin well 
fixed for the winter we started to put out a line of traps 
up a branch of the little stream, which was to be my line. 
We were gone three days, and had good dry weather, 
and only covered about thirty miles in all — fifteen up one 
stream, then over a divide and down another, which 
came into the first one near our shanty — but we set about 
forty steel traps of different sizes for otter near falls and 
rapids, for mink under tree roots and other covered 
places, and for "black cat," pine marten and ermine in 
their haunts. We made many dead-falls for some of these 
animals where it was possible to drive stakes or arrange 
them on stumps, and for these we carried bait of venison 
and fish. This was my first three days on snowshoes, 
and the weight of them, added to the unusual gait which 
they require, made some muscles that had not been used 
to a loping gait very sore. But the truth came out when 
we reached the cabin and hung the snowshoes up, for 
Antoine asked: "You tired, hey? I t'ink free day' on 
snowshoe' pooty good fur fust time; he make me sore 
fust, but, like de skate, you git used to dat kine, an' bime- 
by you t'ink de snowshoe de best fur de walk. Jess so 
me w^en I be in de wood all winter, W'at you say, hey? 
S'pose we res' two, free day' an' fish, den I go put my 
line o' trap an' you run yours; what you say, hey?" 
"Well, Antoine, I do feel tired in my legs, and if you 
are tired too I'll do just as you say. We'll fish a day or 
two and get a change of feed and then you go and lay 
out your line and I'll run over mine," 
This put it in such shape that the tired feeling was 
mutual, as indeed it was, for the first skating or snow- 
shoeing of the season strains muscles in an uausual way. 
And we rested and flshbd. We used bits of veniscm for bait, 
and laid m a stock of trout and some other small fish, 
which we stored in the snow when frozen, 
A portion of a deer had been hung on the north side of 
the cabin, and it had been torn and picked in a way that 
neither dogs, wolves nor bsars could nor would have 
mutilated it, because the tearing had been done from the 
upper side, I called my partner's attention to it and 
suggested that ravens had found us out. 
He looked at the meat and said: "Miss 'r Raven he doan 
lak come near shanty, but dem mis'able meat hawk he 
come an' take de meat out yo' mouf. I hate dat cuss, de 
meanes' bird in de wood 'cause he no 'fraid. You keep a' 
eye out an' see how I fix him wid a flip." 
I saw the bird the same day. It was the "Canada jay," 
"meat hawk," "whisky jack," etc., a relative of our blue- 
jay, but not so noisy. As I have since known this North- 
ern bird on its extreme Southern limit in winter, in 
Michigan and Minnesota, it is of an ashy gray color with 
black and white markings, and so unfamiliar with man 
as to be impudent, and therefore very interesting. This 
is all very well when a bird visits you in a winter camp 
where birds are scarce, and one drops down by your feetj 
hops around and swipes a venison chop or a fish which 
has been laid out ready for the pan; but when it invites 
all its sisters, its cousins and its aunts to a feast on a saddle 
of venison which you have left out for safe-keeping en- 
tirely for your own purposes, the familiarity of the bird 
breeds a feeling which differs from contempt. Some- 
where back in memory the word "flip" seemed connected 
with some sort of a beverage, and I imagined that An- . 
toine intended to give "whisky jack" a drink that would 
paralyze him; that was a natural conclusion, although we 
had no whisky, 
"I tell you; come see me fix de flip; he come here for 
heat my meat an' he'll get de flip; I fix him." He re- 
moved the chinking from between the logs for a foot and 
ran out a long shingle and put a piece of meat on the 
outer end. Soon the enemy alighted on the shingle, when 
down came the ax on its inside end, and a dead "meat 
hawk" was tossed in the air. "I tole you he got de flip — 
he want no more, an' now all bees brudder got to get de 
flip an' den we got no trouble no mo'." During our three 
days' rest we killed about twenty with the "flip," and 
went our rounds of traps knowing that there were a few 
less meat hawks to prey upon our stores. 
I stayed in camp alone for three days after our rest, 
while Antoine went over his line and set his traps. The 
first trip was the greatest labor of all, for it involved 
selecting places and building dead-falls, but I was getting 
my tired muscles into condition by a rest which was 
merely a change of occuj)ation. The rifle was to be 
cleaned and oiled, knives w£re to be sharpened, wood to 
be cut, bullets to be moulded from bar lead, and other 
things to be done, besides cooking and washing under- 
clothing. 
While fishing in the stream on the third da,y after An- 
toine left, there suddenly appeared seven Indians in com- 
pany with my friend Ah se-bun. None of them could or 
would speak English, and after a repetition of the word 
"Tah-so-je ge" and some gesticulation I began to under- 
stand that they were asking for Antoine. Later I learned 
that "je-ge" meant "he who does," and that "tah-so" re- 
ferred to traps. As I gradually picked up some of their 
words and tried to use them, I often began a sentence to 
Antoine with "Nidgee Tah-so- je-ge, would you like fish 
or venison?" etc. That day when I was found fishing 
my red friend had named me "Kego-e-kay," or he who 
fishes, and I arranged with Antoine to always use the na- 
tive tongue when possible; and before spring it was our 
common camp talk, he helping me over the hum- 
mocks. I entertained our red friends as well as possible, 
and their appetites were enormous. Antoine had fully 
informed mf> on all the points of Ojibway etiquette, and 
when I (off ered tobacco the exact amount was cut off and 
handed to each individual, or he would have considered 
that the whole plug was given him ; and the same circum- 
spection was necessary when a loaf of bread was cut, 
I tried to get our visitors to follow Antoine's trail and 
meet him, as the prospect of feeding eight hungry In- 
dians was not pleasant, but they waited. I had two 
loaves of bread: one for me to take next morning when I 
ran my line, and one for supper when Antoine came. A 
venison ham was boiling in the fireplace to have for sup- 
per and breakfast, and to keep me three days if necessary; 
but when I got ready to set it out to our guests Antoine 
came in. There was a grunting salutation, and then An- 
toine said: "I don't bin hungry, but ba gosh if I'll bin 
starve; it was good I come now 'fore dey heat all dat grub 
we got. You don't know w'at happetite dey got, I'U tole 
you," And I certainly didn't know. Antoine first cut 
bread and meat for himself and me, and then divided the 
rest into eight portions, which were hardly chewed, and 
had disappeared before we had fairly begun, 
Antoine then told me: "Dey ha'n't had half plenty, but 
dey all say 'nish-ish-shin,' dat means 'good.' We doan 
got much meat, on'y for you free day, an' I doan cook no 
more." r 
A smoke followed, and then it transpired, as Antoine 
translated it, that one of their friends had somehow 
broken his leg and they wanted him to go and set it. The 
distance to their camp was only five miles, and if I didn't 
mind he would go at once. It seems that he had a repu- 
tation for surgery among these people, and I had three 
good reasons for wishing him to start immediately. Of 
course the humanity of fixing the man's leg was one 
reason, keeping on good terms with men who could rob 
and destroy our traps and drive us out of the country was 
another, and I fear that the third was to get rid of guests 
who would devour our small stores and breed a famine 
was as strong a reason as the other two. 
After the exodus I cooked a partridge and some venison 
chops to take on the line, baked two more loaves of 
bread, and had the kettle boiling to make coffee when 
Antoine should return. A light rain the night before had 
made a crust upon the snow and snowshoes were not 
needed, It was long after dark when his step was heard 
crunching in the crust, and in he walked with his rifle 
and a coon. I told him that it was well that he had the 
coon^ for I had cooked all the meat in sight, and there 
was only enough for our supper and for me to take on my 
trip, There were fish enough for breakfast and now there 
was coon fat enough to fry them in. In the words of that 
old hunting song of Mr. Eaynor's: "Why should the 
hunter lack?" 
Antoine said: "Dat make no diff'. Wen I'll got hun- 
ger I'll catch de f eesh or I'll kill a deer or pa'tridge, or I'll 
go hunger. It makes no diff', I'll come along, you doan 
min' me, no." 
After supper we smoked in silence. I had said all that 
could be said about the camp larder in order that he 
might not put off replenishing it before he got hungry, 
and was anxious to know all about the broken leg and 
why so many Indians were so close to us. Not a question 
would i ask of the old man. fle would tell it all in his 
own way if left alone, and would be better satisfied to do 
it in that way. We sat in front of the log fiire on three- 
legged stools which his axe had fashioned, and smoked 
in silence until he said: "Han' me that plug tobac." I 
passed him the tobacco, and he slowly sliced a pipefulj 
ground it in his palms, filled his pipe and lighted it with 
a sliver from a dry pine stick. I emptied my pipe and 
followed suit. As he contemplated the smoke curl up 
and mingle with that of the fire, he removed his pipe and 
said: "Dase Injun jess lak w'ite man, some smart an' 
some tam fool." He was thawing out, and to assist the 
process I kept silent and let him go on thinking until he 
got ready to teU as much as he wished. 
After a few more puffs he said: "Da big fella dat was 
here hees name was 'She-kog,* an' dat mean de skunk j 
but he ain' got no sense like a skunk. All dese men dey 
go on up on a Flambeau riv', dey no stay on a Bad Ax 
riv', an' She-kog he go fur to break a stick an' hit 
O-ge-ma, the head man, an' broke his bone in his Ob warn, 
w'at you call dat bone here?*' indicating his thigh. 
"Well, when I foun' ole O-ge-ma he say 'ugh'* an' I feel 
hees laig, Sho 'nuff she was broke. 1 get some wood 
f 'um dry pine an' make splits an' tear up blanket, an' den 
I take hees foot in bote ban's an' put ma foot in hees 
crotch an' I pull lak de dev' till bones slip togedder an' I 
feel 'em all rite. Den de woman win' hees laig in blanket 
an' I put on some split wood an' more blanket an' hees 
laig it get all rite. Day go 'way in mornin' an' carry 
O-ge-ma 'longside. Gimme dat tobac." 
In the morning I started to run my line. Two days 
would do it easily if the weather was good, but rations 
for three was a wise provision. A rifle and ammunition 
for a dozen shots was also needed. Matches in a vial, 
blankets, some strong twine and a belt axe completed the 
outfit, except the snowshoes, which were slung on the 
back in case of need, for the crust might soften or fresh 
snow might fall, and snowshoes were now in the same 
category as the traditional pistol in Texas. This made a 
fairly good load for sC novice and it was increased by 
several skins before noon. 
Night came; and as I ate supper by a little fire and 
crawled under my blankets with my feet to the fire and 
the upper half of my body in the hollow of a big tree 
there came a sense of loneliness that is indescribable. 
Perhaps^ there was some fear, but as near as I can recall 
it the main feeling was one of helplessness. The night 
was still, cold and clear. The stars shone through the top 
of the leafless, hardwood trees. I looked over the rifle. 
It was a big and tolerably accurate one; the cap was 
sound and— "Pshaw!" I thought, "a man armed as I am 
is the most dangerous animal in these woods, now go to 
sleep." That was truly philosophical but — philosophy 
and sleep are nob identical. Not a twig or an acorn 
dropped within hearing that escaped my over-sensitive 
ear. The fire was replenished several times and it seemed 
as if day would never come. 
If I lost consciousness for a moment that night it must 
have been the briefest of moments. Camping out with 
Port Tyler and the boys on that creek — whose name I 
dare not spell since the dispute — was one thing, but this 
was different. Every owl that ventured a remark seemed 
to be making reference to me. If a rabbit ran on the 
hard snow and cracked his joints as a call or challenge I 
heard it — but then the fact is I was not sleepy. No man 
can sleep when he isn't sleepy, there's nothing queer in 
that. 
Near daylight I was startled by the tramp of some ani- 
mal and I sat up and listened. The sound came from the 
stream below, which glinted in the starlight, and I made 
out a moving form going down stream. I thought it 
must be a bear and if I could kill it then life would be 
worth living, if only to tell of it. I stood up in the hol- 
low of the great tree and tried to get the rifle sights in 
line with the animal's forequarters, but the diffused light 
from snow and stars made it seem impossible to tell 
where the gun was sighted. The thing stopped; it had 
probably scented my camp, and partly at random I fired. 
A mingled cry and growl, a floundering in the snow and 
a hasty reloading of the rifle followed. On reaching the 
spot, not more than 50yds. distant, blood could be seen on 
the snow and I followed. Morning was visible in the east 
and by the time the sun was up I had run down my 
game, which was weak from copious bleeding. It turned 
at bay. It was not a bear, but what could it be? It made 
a feeble charge on me, which I dodged, and then dropped 
it with a bullet in the head. Now that it was dead I had 
no idea what it could be. With lions, tigers, elephants 
and other animals of Asia and Africa I had knowledge, 
but here was a- beast in an American forest of which I 
had never heard nor read of in my school books. It was 
bear-like, but not a bear. Its body was heavy, its legs 
thick and clumsy, its tail bushy and it had a round head 
with eyes wide apart. The hair was shaggy and thick, 
the color being almost black, with a light stripe along the 
sides which met at the insertion of the tail. It was about 
3ft. long and might have weighed 1501bs. This is how I 
remember it, and under such circumstances a young fel- 
low with tastes of the naturalist notes such things. I 
skinned the beast, and the smell of the meat said plainly 
that whatever this thing may be there is a flavor to it 
that you would rather starve than eat. It was an odor 
like that of mink, weasels and other beasts of prey, or 
rather those which live on flesh exclusively — for the flesh 
of the bear, coon, hog and other omnivora have no such 
smell. One hind leg had been broken and the other in- 
jured, a most fortunate shot in the uncertain light and 
one of pure and unadulterated luck. . 
After a toilet in the brook and a good breakfast — such 
a breakfast as only one with an appetite such as I had, 
after the morning's work, can appreciate — I crossed the 
divide and struck the other stream, which led homeward; 
yes, that's the word; it was home now. Soon I came to 
a dead-fall which had been wrecked; the back of it had 
been broken into and the bait taken. I thought that 
some animal had approached it from the rear, and in 
ignorance that the other side was open and that the trig- 
ger held a hospitable log, which would induce him to 
remain by falling and breaking his back, had considered 
that the only way to get at the desired bait was to break 
in from the side he first came to. After finding a dozen or 
more dead-falls entered in the same manner I began think- 
ing. The more I thought of the matter the further I 
was from any conclusion. The crust on the snow was 
* This Indian salutation has been anglicised into "how" and further 
polluted into "here's how." 
