162 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Aug. 30, igos 
(& 
Tales of the Frontier. 
Pi,-'- __ 
I. — The Stolen Horse. 
In the settlement of any portion of the American con- 
tinent many occurrences entirely out of the line of every- 
day experience served to break the monotony of pioneer 
life; and now, after most of the actors in the drama of 
olden times have passed away, some of the happenings 
of long ago may prove of passing interest to the readers 
of Forest and Stream, whose lives are passed in more 
quiet times. 
In these days of bench shows of htinting dogs, and 
tournaments of the shotgun men for the breaking of 
"mud saucers"; when the people who eat the flesh of 
thousands of cattle, sheep and hogs, daily slaughtered 
for their food, are grown so tender-hearted that pigeon 
shooting for sport is becoming a dangerous pastime; and 
when the wave of immigration from the East is fast 
filling every nook and cranny of our mountains, and a 
fresh deer track has become something to cause one to 
stop and look twice at; my thoughts wander back to the 
old days when the keeping of one's scalp in proper place 
was often a matter of serious question. Among the trap- 
pers of my acquaintance on the old Minnesota frontier 
were Bill Humphrey and Jude- Phillips, who, in the year 
1859 — if I recollect aright — undertook a somewhat risky 
trip to the head of the Des Moines River to trap the coun- 
try around Lake Shetek and the Great Oasis, a few miles 
to the westward. 
The Sioux were known to be already inclined to hos- 
tility, and not at all disposed to welcome any intrusion 
upon their hunting and trapping grounds, and constant 
vigilance and carefulness on their part became imperative 
\yith the white trappers from the time they left the outer 
line of the settlements. 
With a two-horse wagon and^ driver to convey their 
traps and supplies, they Journeyed Up the left bank of the 
river until n^ar Lake Shetek, when a camp was made 
upon the bank s>t the river near the mouth of a small 
creek. 
On their journeying up the river a small party of Sioux 
was met upon the prairie, and Bill Humphrey — from 
whom, by the way, I obtained this tale — walking at some 
little distance from the others, was met by the largest 
Indian in the party, who, stalking up squarely in front of 
him, and looking, as Bill said, "savage as a meat ax," 
stared for an instant straight into Bill's eyes and mut- 
tered an imprecation— evidently the only English he 
knew. 
Bill said he wanted to knock him flat, just where he 
stood, but their numbers were too great for any foolish- 
ness, and just then discretion was manifestly at a big 
premium. 
After the driver had returned to the settlements the 
trappers were annoyed to find that quite a party of Sioux 
was camped on the shore of Shetek, but a short distance 
above their camp. However, as they did not then ap- 
pear disposed to make trouble, the boys proceeded to 
string out a long line of traps, and as furred animals 
were very plentiful, they were kept busily employed. 
A very few days passed hefore the white men began 
missing their traps. No matter how carefully set and con- 
cealed, on their next visit to the place the trap was miss- 
ing. Not only the trap, but the furred animal evidently 
caught in it was nowhere to be found. 
■ And now the Indians began taking great pains to make 
a show of innocence. Time after time an Indian riding 
past their camp would stop near by and readjust his 
saddle or its blanket — often unsaddling and shaking out 
and refolding the blanket— to show that he carried nothing 
^contraband; and yet in spite of all the watchfulness of 
'th^ trappers their traps kept vanishing. 
Finally when it became manifest that the thieves would 
soon leave them empty-handed, and no chance for righting 
their wrongs appearing, one of them returned to the set- 
tlements and again brought out the wagon to move them 
back to safer ground. 
The return journey to the settlements was begun at 
early morning in the hope to cOyer over half the dis- 
tance before night. 
During all the forenoon's march the trappers brooded 
over the loss of more than half their traps ; and as the 
nopn halt for dinner was made they agreed to send the 
driver forward as rapidly as possible, while they turned 
back upon their trail in pursuit of revenge. 
It was at the time of the full moon, and they planned 
to reach the Indian camp soon after dark, when by the 
help of the moonlight they hoped to find some of the 
ponies of the savages. 
Halting on the prairie until nightfall at a distance from 
the Indian camp, they then hurried on, and after some 
careful maneuvering succeeded in securing a good pony. 
But they wanted another; and having led the captured 
horse down to the creek and fastened him to a small 
tree, they again approached the camp, and finding a teepee 
pitched at quite a long distance from the others, they 
crept near it and there found what Bill declared was the 
prettiest pony he had ever seen— and which they had 
noticed among the Indians before they had thought of go- 
ing horse stealing. It was a coal black stallion, fat and 
sleek; but, as they now discovered, as savage as a wolf! 
It was picketed a few hundred yards from the teepee, and 
as they crept near it the horse, with open mouth and ears 
laid flat, charged furiously to the extreme length of his 
picket line, and it appeared impossible to capture the 
savage brute. 
"What we ought to have done," said Bill, "was to have 
gone down to the creek and cut a couple of long willow 
poles, leaving a fork at the end, and when he charged us 
twist these into his mane, and one of us could then have 
held him while the other bridled him with his picket line 
But we didn't think of it in time; and finally we had to 
give him up.' 
For now the disturbance had roused the dog of the 
Indian, and he began barking furiously.' Soon the tent 
door opened, and as the boys sank into the grass and the 
pony agaii? stood quipt, aji Indian stepped forth' into the 
moonlight, arid 'took a long careful look around; and 
as peace evidently reigned over the now silent prairie, 
went back again into the teepee. 
After waiting for nearly an hour the' trappers concluded 
to make a final effort to capture the coveted pony. 
Again the savage stallion raved and charged ; again the 
dog barked and tore around the teepee; and again the 
Indian stepped forth into the moonlight. 
After another long and critical survey of the scene the 
Sioux turned and kicked his dog, and muttering an im- 
precation at this disturbal of his rest, again disappeared 
within the teepee. But the moon was climbing rapidly 
toward the zenith, the night was swiftly passing, and re- 
luctantly turning their backs upon the wished-for "pony 
the two men started for home. 
While one rode the captured pony the other ran along- 
side holding on to his mane, and taking turns in the 
riding as the footman grew fatigued, the rapid march con- 
tinued steadily during the remainder of the night, and 
morning found them so far cm their journey that all fear 
of successful pursuit vanished. 
Reaching the settlements about the same time as did 
the driver of their wagon, they promptly sold the pony 
for ju.st about sufficient to pay for the stolen traps — but 
without stating how they had obtained it — and the next 
day two Indians appeared at the upper end of the settle- 
ir.ent in search of the missing horse. 
Here the Indians were promptly discouraged from 
further prosecution of their search, and they turned back 
again. 
Soon the rumor reached the new owner of the pony 
that the Indians were in search of his horse, anS the 
tired brute was hurried on to Estherville, la., and sold; 
and again the rumor reached him, frightening the man 
vvho. had purchased him, so that he immediately took 
him down to Ft. Dodge and disposed of him. 
Again the proceeding was repeated, the pony taken to 
Ft. Des Moines and sold; and still once again was the 
Scripture verified which declares that "The wicked flee 
when no man pursueth," and the last word that reached 
the frontier starting point of this famous race was that 
this much-traveled animal was being hurried on toward 
the Missouri River in the vain hope of outrunning a 
flying rumor. "x\nd," added Bill, at the end of the story, 
"fer all I know, that durned boss is a-runnin' yit!" 
Orin Belknap. 
Old Gabe Acquin, the Milicete 
Guide. 
Did you ever meet, in your tramps through New Bruns- 
wick, the Indian Sagamore, Gabriel Acquin? He was 
the best hunter, trapper and guide in New Brunswick and 
Nova Scctia in his time. He died last year at the age of 
ninety, and a good Indian has gone to the happy hunt- 
ing grounds, if there is any such place in God's universe 
for a dead Indian. ' 
In the '40' s. '50's and '6o's Gabe was in his prime. He 
was the "guide, philosopher and friend" of all the officers 
attached to the various regiments which, in those days, 
were stationed m Halifax, St. John and Fredericton. He 
was so interesting a character, his sayings so quaint and 
pithy, his manners so self-respecting and dignified, that 
the officers treated him as an equal and had him to mess 
whenever he would condescend to accept their invitations. 
When I first met him he was nearing his sixtieth year, 
but was as lithe and sinewy as in his younger years, and 
could handle a birch canoe better than any white canoe 
man I ever saw, and this is saying a great deal. With 
my Fredericton Overseer of Fisheries for the County of 
York, I took rail from that town to the mouth of the 
Shiktahawk. crossed a portage of fourteen miles and 
came out on the extreme headwaters of the Southwest 
Branch of the Miramichi (where it was a mere brook), 
once the most wonderful river in the Province for salmon 
and trout. There we were met by Sachem Gabe in a 
fine birch canoe, and proceeded at once on our voyage of 
inspection down stream to Boiestown. I need not dwell 
on that delightful trip. You have been on the river and 
know its charms. 
In 1883, when the Department of Fisheries was getting 
up its exhibit to send to the great Fisheries Exhibition 
held in London that year, it occurred to me that if a live 
Indian in his wigwam, sur-rounded by the various things 
conuTion to nomadie life, his squaw making moccasins, 
baskets, etc., the Indian himself making fish spears, pad- 
dles, miniature toy canoes, etc., while he paddled a real 
canoe on the ponds of South Kensington, where the 
Canadian Court was to be erected, the Canadian exhibit 
would "take the cake." So, having in due course ob- 
tained the assent of the Department of Marine and Fish- 
eries, I secured Gabe's services for $2 per day and ex- 
penses paid, and he agreed to be ready within two weeks' 
time to meet the steamer at Halifax, which was to take 
the various exhibits across the Atlantic. * * * As I 
foresaw wouW be the case, Gabe's camp in the Canadian 
Court was really the greatest attraction of the whole 
show, for perhaps no one of that generation had ever seen 
a real live Indian before. Young officers who, thirty 
years previous, had hunted and fished with Gabe as guide, 
no^v grown into old men, were simply wild to see Gabe 
again. Not a single living man who had known him 
in Canada failed to call on him; and many took him to 
their clubs and to their homes, as the greatest lion in 
London.^ After the show was over several of these officers, 
now majors and colonels, and generals, took him to their 
country homes, and did all they could to show their real 
pleasure in again meeting their companion and guide in 
the best sport they had ever enjoyed. The presents Gabe 
got in England were far more valuable than his salary, 
and as these were chiefly in British sovereigns, except for 
watches and valuable gems, they and his salary made 
Gabe comfortable for the rest of his life. 
Gabe knew every caribou barren in New Brunswick- 
north, south, east and west. No white man or Indian 
could equal him in calling moose, and he could perfectly 
imitate the voice and call of both beasts and birds. I 
myself saw him calling a mink. He imitated the squeak 
so perfectly that the mink actually crossed the stream 
and approached Gabe's hiding place behind a rock on the 
shore. He was an admirable cook, and had always some 
appetizing comestible when in the woods, 
Perhaps I am the only one now living, except Bob Or' 
(whom_ you knew as my host of the Barker House h. 
Fredericton), who could tell of the man as he was in hiii 
prime. 
All the fisheries officials connected with that show o 
1883 are now dead — the Minister, the Deputy Minister, thi 
Commissioner of Fisheries, the Superintendent, Wilmot 
the Overseer, John Mowat — all except myself, my son ij 
Ottawa, and some others, who, like him, were jtinio: 
clerks in 1883. Huxley, Tyndall, Cunliffe Owen, Fathe, 
Francis, Frank Buckland. Lord Dufferin, James Russell 
Lowell, and, indeed, most of the men who took part in thi 
speaking at the several meetings and discussions, hav' 
gone the way of all flesh, and I feel that in my own case 
"superfluous lags the veteran on the stage." 
My memory of past events is vivid. Of John Mcwai 
(whom you knew), of Sammy Wilmot, of Walte; 
Brackett, with whom I have several times fished ; of Tha<) 
Norris, with whom I have fished the Ristigouche and tb 
Nepissiquit; of Ned Sotliern, Johnny Raymond am' 
Charles Couldock, with whom I have' fished, my menior 
is very clear, and as you knew all these good fellows, ni 
doubt my recollections of them would interest you. I 
you care to have me do so, I will put my recollections up 
v.'riting, and thus while away an idle hour or two whd« 
in the mood. Wm. H. Venning. 
Sussex, N. B. 
Note. — Mr. Venning, who has so happily favored ou 
readers, is now in his 8ist year. For forty years he wa. 
Inspector of Fisheries for New Brunswick and Nov; 
Scotia. We shall certainly be glad to have more of hi' 
reminiscences, as he suggests. 
Through the Parsonage Window 
Retrospect. 
Again at the window looking out. It is idle time 
monotonous time that hangs and drags. In other year 
when time was long one might have taken a rifle ant 
wandered off into the hills there after antelope. What ; 
great treat it would be to take a far-shooting Spencet 
far-shooting for those days, but wonderful with its arch' 
ing trajectory, and chase antelope over those sun-crowne( 
slopes again. Real live antelope on their native heath, frei 
and untrammeled! What illusive things they were \i 
those days, too, more especially when hunted for pastime 
Pastime hunting usually resulted in no bloodshed. la 
difference to the game led to taking long chances, an< 
long chances, with the guns of half-moon trajectory, onl] 
netted a splendid jet of dust, thrown up from the sun 
baked sod, ten feet beyond or ten feet below. It wai 
only when the demand for meat was imperative that wf 
got down on our marrow bones and wormed along, or la' 
for an hour watching for a chance to make another move 
that any blood was likely to be shed. Then we worlcet 
until we got within such range that trajectory cut bu; 
little figure and brought back our saddle of venison, oi 
more often the whole antelope. 
No, we did not do any wonderful shooting in the olt 
times. That was done by word of mouth or with pen ant 
ink in after years. More phenomenal shooting can be see^ 
any day at a circus or even among a lot of boys with .2a 
caliber rifles than could be seen in ten years of plaini 
life of ye olden time. The guns used were not sighted nol 
intended for fine shooting. Few plainsmen fired mon 
than a hundred shots in a year, hence might be said t< 
be always out of practice. How could you expect them t( 
compete with the small boy who, with a finely sighted, a© 
curate target rifle, often shoots two or three hundrer 
shots in a day. Leaving out accidents, all stories of ex, 
traordinary long-range shooting are pure fabrications. O. 
course there are greater or less degrees of skill, but th< 
real wonder is why we cannot do better than we do. 
The real feat was in getting an easy shot at an ante- 
lope in the middle of a flat stretch of table land with n( 
cover even for a rabbit, and the antelope shifting 
the searchlight of his keen eye in all directions. One ex- 
pedient by which I got a needed antelope was using s 
bleached buffalo skull as a flag, and tolling the antelop< 
within reach through its own curiosity. The antelope 
were on a wide stretch of table, and I followed up s 
shallow ravine until it ran out and afforded no furth 
cover. For some time I lay speculating and had abc 
given up, for there seemed no possible way to res' 
them, when I thought of the bleaching skull that la>i 
near. It was very large and snow white. Picking it um 
ar.d stooping low, I carried it in front of me until ill 
was discovered, and then lay down. There was a ram-f 
rod with the gun I was carrying— though it was a breec: 
loader — and_ thrusting that into the ground I hung tn. 
skull upon it, and while the antelope were engaged with 
the skull I crept away unobserved. The antelope charged 
on the skull and retreated a number of times, and at last 
started on a circle round it. When they got round on 
my side they came within easy range and I got one. 
It was seldom though that flagging antelope was a 
success. 
How different is the big-game hunting of to-day to 
what it was then ! Think of the man in New York or 
Chicago receiving a telegram in the morning from his 
guide in the Rocky Mountains, saying he had the bear' 
or elk, as the case might be, located. The sportsman in 
palace sleeping car thunders away to the scene of action,! 
Arrived there he is led up to the game and gives 't 
the fatal shot with the demeanor of a Leatherstockin- 
then the photographer is summoned and takes views fron.i 
various points of vantage, which are hurried to the maga- 1 
zine office, together with an article by the press agent,! 
giving all the harrowing details. What would Boone or* 
Crockett have thought of such hunting? It cannot 
claimed that a love of nature incited it. It may be thg^ 
Hn de Steele sportsmanship, but for my part I would pjfl| 
fer to be a genuine hunter, and kill one head of game thsSP 
I needed for food, or could trade for needed gear, rather! 
than to spatter the whole range of the Rocky Motmtair 
with such gore. 
It has been claimed, and diligently urged, that gar 
should be protected by law in the interests of sporti... 
afield. Let us put it in less oflFensive words. Protect thesi 
game and fish as an incentive to more general exercisel 
and recreation in the o^ep %o the betterment of the' 
