246 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Maech 37, 18Q7. 
Let no one imagine that because tlie goose is a grpat Tbird 
nearly 4ft. long and apparently of slow and unwieldy fligM 
it is a matter of course tliat he will kill bim. I confidently 
assert that there is nearly as much room in the air around a 
goose as there is around a duck, and unless your gun is care- 
fully held you will shoot behind the bird. If you miss him 
with your first barrel you are very likely to miss him also 
with the second, which is likely to be fired with undue haste. 
If, however, your first barrel has done the work, and he falls 
to the water, your boatman is certain to ofCer you cordial 
congratulations which will warm the cockles of your heart. 
Often it may happen that, while the goose does not come 
down to the decoys, he will alter his flight and pass over the 
blind within long range. In such a case your shot may per- 
haps fail to break an}' bone and yet may mortally wound the 
bird, which, after making a wide circuit or a long flight, will 
at last come to the water stone dead. CouPiiES. 
[to be continued,] 
LIFE AMONG THE LUMBERMEN.— II. 
(Continued from page S26.) 
Ashland, Wis.— As usual, Ernest was awake first in the 
morning, and came over to my bunk, which I had built 
separate in the far corner of the camp. He struck a match 
and lighted the candle, stuck it in the hole bored in a pro- 
truding log at the head for a candlestickj the sizzling of 
the match starting me broad awake. 
"Well, Ernest, how's the weather; snowing yet?" 
"You bet he snow. He keep on leetle longer he bury 
the camp. I make snowshoe to-day out of deer hide we 
get yesterday, so we can go after more. Snow too deep 
for walk; teenk have to make snowshoe for sled for haul 
log and snowshoe for horse box." 
By the time Ernest had finished this speech I had 
dressed sufficient for investigation. I could barely open 
A few more steps and we caught sight of an animal mak- 
ing as good time as possible through the soft snow. A few 
strides, a tap on the nose with the poll of the ax and a 
dead porcupine, lay stretched out for our inspection. 
"Him all right," said Ernest, "he good for eat like pork. 
I cook him. You see." 
"But what's this?" I say. "Something has been afoul of 
our porky; his neck is all chewed up and that is why we 
caught him. What could it be?" 
Ernest took one look, and without making any reply 
started on the back track of the porcupine. I cut a slit in 
the throat, cut a crotched blue beech one branch short and 
sharpened, which I jabbed in between the lower jaws, and 
dragging the carcass started after. I came up with Ernest 
under a huge birch, his gaze dii'ected first among the 
branches, nest to the ground underneath. 
"You see, de porky feed here. You see where he peel 
the bark and eat the bud. Then you look here you see 
where something try to eat Mm." 
Tliere was a trail from here which we took up and fol- 
lowed. It led us in a roundabout way to the roots of a 
huge fallen pine and into a hole which seemed to extend 
into the body of the tree. Ernest walked the length of 
the trunk, came back and said: "I think it be the dev'. 
He in there; he can't get out only here; no hole in de top. 
You take off your snowshoe, get on top and pound along 
the tree. If he come out- 1 shoot him." 
I did as requested, and hammering along the trunk was 
startled when about 30ft. from the root to hear an ominous 
growl, deep and angry, and seeming to issue from some 
hidden place deep in the ground. 
"Well, Ernest," I cried, "if it is the devil, as you say, he 
must be a big one; he certainly has voice enough for an 
elephant." 
Ernest replied in a tone of voice which instantly com- 
manded my attention, "You hustle back here, cut de lil 
"AN OMINOUS GROWL. DEEP AND AN&Rt." 
the door far enough to squeeze out, so great a weight of 
snow was there against it. I turned ray face upward and 
felt the flakes fall, soft and silent as down. It bad changed 
from the hard pellets of the day before and added to the 
depth faster than ever. The temperature had grown 
much warmer during the night, ai;d I remember that as 
I stood there with the snow to my hips and falling stead- 
ily on my upturned face, there crept over me a sense of 
security and comfort, and to this day I cannot look out 
on a fresh fallen snow without something of the same feel- 
ing. Most people, I am aware, are wont to regard the 
snow as the winding sheet of earth and associate it in their 
minds with the cheerless things of life. To me it is a won- 
derful blanket, soft and warm, to cover the sleeping earth, 
coming and growing, like the fur on her creatures, when 
she needs it, and keeping safe the germ of life in green to 
bloom against her awakening. 
But what is to be the outcome of this affair? was my 
next thought. A new sense of responsibility came over 
me. I was "in charge." To me the crew would look for 
the conduct of affairs until the return of the boss. It 
was apparent now that the storm was something serious, 
and that the arrival of the tote team was likely to be de- 
layed considerably longer than expected. The main thing, 
I judged, was to provide food, if possible, and keep the 
men until the roads were open and we could get into thick 
timber and finish our winter's work. Luckily for me, I had 
able counsellors in Ernest and the cook; and besides I was 
only turned nineteen years of age. At that time of life 
most of us are pretty apt iinder difliculties to alight, like 
the proverbial cat, "on our feet." Sp, feeling as though the 
matter was not so very serious, I got back into camp, and 
finding the cook up we held a council. 
It was decided first that we should devote our energies 
that day to making snowshoes, in order that we might get 
abroad, and if necessary get down the river if grub was 
likely to fail and no supplies reached us. Accordiagly the 
crew was routed up and each man was instructed to make 
some sort of vehicle for snow transportation. Kronquist 
started in on skis, and the rest of the crew, with the excep- 
tion of Ernest, followed his lead. It was tough work get- 
ting the material, although plenty was at hand within a 
few rods; but, as Ernest put it, "we have to swim" in order 
to get anywhere. 
Toward evening Ernest, with my help, had completed 
two pairs of serviceable rawhide snowshoes, and we started 
up the logging road to see what we might see. Only a faint 
depression showed where the road had been. A short way 
from camp we came to where a band of three deer had 
crossed, and the snow was so deep they left a trail which 
looked as though small saw logs had been dragged along 
the surface. It was growing dusk, and as it was extremely 
exhausting work to make headway even on snowshoes, we 
were about to turn back, when something attracted Ernest's 
attention. He was a few steps in the lead, and I saw him 
stop, pull off his mitten, and hold his gun ready, looking 
intently off" to the right. I shuffled silently up and whis- 
pered, "What is it?" 
"Something ump. Don't know what. We go see. 
pine quick, stick hira in hole. We have to go for camp. 
You know where de road be?" 
I understood in an instant. It was nearly dark. After 
following the trails to the fallen pine I could not tell, to 
save my life, in which direction the road lay. Neither 
could Ernest. Our only chance was to take the back 
track and take it soon. I quickly had the small pine 
down, and logging it into three sections we jammed them 
into the hole as tight as we could and started for the 
logging road. I know not if I should ever have reached 
it alone, but Ernest proved a sure guide and led me safely 
out. Once on the road, Ernest delivered himself: "I not 
sure dat de dev', but I t'ink he be dat. He try eat de 
porky. No bear, no wolf try dat. We see to-morrow. If 
we stay to get him to-night we have to stay until morning. 
Better we go camp, sleep, come back early, he all right. 
He no get away." 
Night had completely fallen now, and we settled down 
to a steady swing, making as good time as possible, but 
finding it slow, hard work. All at once as I tui'ned to look 
at Ernest I saw frost on his long black mustache and said 
to him: "It's growing cold. Feel the frost on your 
whiskers?" 
"Dat so. Now he stop snow pretty quick." He stuck 
his forefinger in his mouth and held it up over his head to 
catch the direction of the wind. "The wind from north 
now," he said. "He grow cold fas' the snow he stop." 
We .soon had evidence that a change was truly at hand. 
The storm thus far had been accompanied by little or no 
wind, and the silence of it I cannot describe. It was sim- 
ply absolute, intense, oppressive. But now there ranged 
first through the forest a mighty sigh , then each tree and 
shrub seemed to shiver from its topmost branch to its root, 
and a deluge of snow plumped down from above to be 
swallowed up in the ocean of snow beneath; then the 
pine tops started the music and soon the whole woods 
orchestra was in full play, the music growing in volume 
as the wind rose. 
Getting back to camp, we found a game of poker in full 
blast, and a little black Frenchman had won nearly all the 
tobacco in the wangan. The cards were put away for 
supper, and were not brought out again. The boss would 
not allow them to be played in camp, and I considered it 
my duty to administer affairs as nearly as might be as 
they would be if he were present. After supper Ernest 
skinned and dressed the porcupine, and the cook brought 
out his guitar, while a young Swede produced an old vio- 
lin, mellow and sweet of tone; and striking up a lively tune 
we soon had a quadrjUe formed, and danced the blues and 
discontent out of the camp. 
When 9 o'clock came I went outside and found that the 
storm had ceased, the stars were shining, the trees were 
singing in the north wind, and the frost nipped hungrily 
at my ears. As I stretched out in my bunk and lighted 
the candle to read for a few moments before sleep over- 
came me, my thoughts returned to the animal we had left 
imprisoned in the hollow pine, and it gave a zest to the 
anticipations for the morrow G. W. M. 
[to be continued.] 
WILD GOATS IN THE ROCKIES. 
While the buffalo have disappeared and the elk are get- 
ting scarce, there are still lots of wild goats in the main 
range of the Kockies; also in the Selkirk and Cabinet 
ranges, which form a sort of stepping-stone to the western 
slope of the Kocky Mountains and give to northern Idaho, 
western Montana and southern British Columbia its grand 
scenery. 
There are several reasons why the goat is not himted so 
very much, chiefly because the savage hunter thinks that 
it is too much like work to hunt for goats on a lofty moun- 
tain; it is so much easier for the tenderfoot, fresh from the 
city, to hire a man to show him something to shoot where 
he does not have to climb mountains. 
The head of a wild goat properly mounted makes a very 
satisfactory trophy, the slender black horns curving back- 
ward very prettily; the hide makes a very tasteful rug; the 
hair is very long and snow white. 
As a general rule wild goat meat is very poor eating, 
being tough and rather strong; a young kid, however, is 
fair food. The proper time to hunt the wild goat is in the 
early spring, fall, or, if you like hard work, follow them up 
the mountains in winter. If you shoot a goat then you 
get a prime hide and good horns. 
To return to a hunt I once indulged in with my old 
friend Col. Wroug. 
We pushed up to Fort Steele, British Columbia (which 
is a small town of possibly 100 inhabitants lying at the 
very foot of the Rockies), from Borum's Ferry, Idaho, by 
way of the old Moyra Trail, a distance of 125 miles through 
the mountains; the scenery along this trail is superb. At 
night we camped on the banks of the Moyra River, a 
beautiful mountain stream about 160 miles long. Trout 
abound in this river. I have known four men to catch 
900 in three days. 
Our outfit consisted of a saddle and pack horse apiece. 
•Besides six-shooters, the Colonel carried a .40-65 Winches- 
ter, and I carried a .45-7Q Winchester; we also took a good 
dog apiece. 
Arriving in four days and a half at Fort Steele, we 
camped there a day to report at the Canadian custom 
office and to lay in a fresh supply of grub. 
The next day we struck down the Tootenai River to 
Bull River, twenty miles north, crossing this stream at the 
old pack bridge, which spans the river at the falls (which 
are grand, the water tumbling almost 90ft. straight down). _. 
We continued on up Bull River, crossing Iron Creek at its 
mouth, about five miles above Bull River Falls. Here we 
came to the end of the trail; however, we continued on up 
Bull River twelve miles further till we found good feed for 
our horses, and there we made our permanent camp. 
All this sounds very easy, but as a matter of fact it was 
very hard woi'k after we left the end of the trail; we were 
almost three days making the twelve miles. We had to 
use our axe all day in order to get our horses through the 
fallen timber. We forded Bull River whenever we could 
in order to save work with the axe, but we could not do it 
very often, as the river is very swift, and the probable loss 
of a pack horse with our blankets and grub was a little too 
serious a matter for us. 
On our way up we found lots of bear sign, and big fel- 
lows too, judging by their tracks. The Colonel saw one 
black bear the day before we reached our final camp. The 
day we arrived at our destination, after fixing up camp and 
hoppling the horses so that they could not leave us, the 
Colonel went back about half a mile on our trail, where 
we had noticed a big log jam in Bull River, to try and get 
a mess of trout for supper. I took my rifle and dog up the 
mountain back of camp to look for signs of goat, and hop- 
ing to get a grouse or so for food. 
Going about quarter of the way up and then around the 
side of the rhountain, I came to what I should judge was a 
good-sized creek in the spring time, but now it was almost 
dry, here and there 15 or 20ft. of water. This creek lay 
below me and south, dividing the mountain I was on from 
the next one. Going down the mountain to this creek, I 
found to my surprise that these little f)ools of water were 
alive with trout, M'hich had evidently been caught there 
as the water went. Going to one end of one of these pools, 
I drove the fish up to the other, and then told my dog to 
catch them, which he did by grabbing them in the shallow 
water and throwing them out on the gravel. At this novel 
way of fishing it only took a very few minutes to have a 
good mess, which' I strung on a stick and lay on my trail 
to take on my way back. I then proceeded up the creek 
bottom. 
I had not gone more than a quarter of a mile when I 
noticed a goat trail. It was a very old one, probably one 
that they had used for years coming down to water. On 
examination, I found that their hoofs had actually worn a 
trail in the solid rock almost 2in. deep. 
I looked around carefully to see if there were any goats 
still using the trail, and to my joy I found that there had 
been some there very lately. 
This was all I wanted to know that day, so I hastily re- 
traced my steps back to camp, picking up my fish on the 
way. My dog found three grouse for me on the mountain. 
I promptly shot their heads off, as the heavy bullet from 
my rifle would have torn the bodies all to pieces. 
As I had my rifle and eight trout to carry, I gave the 
birds to my dog to bring in, and struck camp just in time 
to escape building a fire, for according to camp law the 
first man in camp builds the fire, 
The Colonel had succeeded in landirg thirty-three trout 
in an hour and a quarter, but he could not see how I had 
caught mine without a hook or line. 
Around the camp-fire that night we discussed our plans 
for the next day. We decided to get an early start the 
next morning and follow up the goat trail that I had found. 
Waking up a little before daylight the next morning, I 
quickly rolled out of my blankets and we soon had break- 
fast. Shortly after daybreak we were on the move. At 
first we walked pretty rapidly, but when we were near the 
goat trail we moved along more carefully; arriving there, 
we made an examination of the tracks at the foot of the 
trail and found that there had been some goats there since 
my visit the night before. 
I'he tracks ran up the rock trail to the south, so that 
after making sure that our guns were all right we started 
on up the trail, which was very steep, so much so that we 
had to use our hands climbing up. Upon our arriving at 
the top the trail became very dim; however, we pushed on, 
the country being very rough and rocky, with almost no 
vegetation in sight. Soon we halted at the foot of a poin 
