864 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Kov. S, 1902.] 
Nothing but to cut down a fear-sped buck at three 
hundred yards could fill the desire of that young Nimrod, 
Old Pell is something of a story-teller. Many an even- 
ing have we spent listening to his stories of the Avoods 
while the wind drew the sparks up into the night and we 
smoked post-prandial pipes. 
Perhaps the following recital is a good example of 
his powers : 
" 'Twasn't many years ago," said our guide, "that your 
Uncle Pell had a pretty clost call for what life he had in 
his carkiss, and 'tain't every man kin say't he had the 
same chanct ter go straight to the golden city under the 
same circinnstances." 
Pell is an artist in his way. so at this point he stopped, 
relighted his pipe, puffed reflectively and waited for the 
usual, "Tell us about it, Pell." 
Accepting our oblations, he continued: 
"Well, it happened about this way. 'Twas gittin' along 
toward the middle of October, and me and Eb Lobb was 
campin' on the p'int yender in the slickest little tar-paper 
cabin tliat ever was built. We got the tar paper offen a 
waggin that got mired out on the Boreas River road. The 
young fellar that was teamin' gave it to us fer helpin' him 
out, and so not castin' away the gifts er Providence we 
kivered and lined our shack with it. 
"One mornin' we woke up, and as it was Eb's turn ter 
do the breakfast cookin', he crawled out and begun fussin' 
'round while I turned over fer jest a little wakin'-up 
snooze. I was dreamin' 'bout havin' been presented with 
a new .45-90 Winchester by grateful fr'en's I'd been 
guidin' through the woods, and I could see the printin' 
en the breech — 'To Peletiah Jones, from his _ admirin' 
fr'en's,' with the names of them as had give it ter me 
underneath. Er course 'tain't no use namin' no names, but 
if I should tell yer the names, maybe ter git strack with a 
streak of lightnin' wouldn't surprise some of yer more." 
I felt that Pell's eye would bore a hole in my head, but 
I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. Inasmuch as 
Pell collected some six or seven dollars a day — wages and 
tribute — more than some of us earned, my feeling was 
less one of guilt than embarrassment. 
Pell finally withdrew his gimlet eye and went on; 
"Well, right in the middle of my dream I was disturbed 
by loud noises and woke up, to hear the familiar voice of 
Eb cussin'. Eb kin cuss like a French-Canuck log driver, 
and them Canucks don't spend much time learnin* any 
other part of the langwidge, so that yer kin see 'twasn't 
egzackly like 'wakin' to the' songs of burds chuned ter 
sweetness,' as that Troy minister used ter say when he 
was campin' here. 
"I kep' quiet, knowin' 't Eb'd make me the partner of 
his woes, and pretty soon he came a-stumpin' in with his 
light ax in one hand and a few pieces of chawed-up meat 
in t'other. 
"'Huh,' says Eb. 'Breakfast!' 
"'Sure,' sez I. 'I'm all ready fer it, so throw them 
red-flannen frog baits away and go out of the room till I 
take off my pejammies and get inter my clothes.' " 
At this fine bit of sarcasm I raised my eyes and shot 
rry deadliest look at him, but except for a slight twitchmg 
of the mouth, Uncle Pell's face Avas as placid as the lake 
of the same name on a windless day. 
" 'If yer kin make yer breakfast outer coffee and per- 
taters.' savs Eb, 'well and good. Well and good,' sez he, 
'but I'U be goldarned if there's a bit of venison in camp 
that's fit ter eat I've jest shown yer the hull of it," 
and he twiddled the meat rags on his fingers. 
" 'Catamount?' sez I. 
" 'Foxes,' sez he, 'and by the tracks I should thmk that 
the census fox would have saved himself a lot er walkin' 
if he could have been here when they c'mitted the rob- 
bery.' , 
" 'Well,' sez I, gittin' up, ' 'tain't as though we couldn t 
get more, anyways try, and I hope your mind wasn't so 
upsot yer fergot to bile the pot.' ' 
" 'Oh, no,' sez Eb, 'the coffee pot's b'ilin',' and that 
mornin' was the first that year we went without meat— 
leastways durin' the open season," he hastened to add. 
"We had ter have sumpin' ter eat, so Eb he stayed ter 
camp and I sot out ter see what I could find. Er course 
I hed my old single-shot rifle along and a good-sized 
horn-handled, stift'-bladed huntin' knife. 
"My rheumatiz didn't let me git along any too lively, but 
perhaps that ain't so bad fer a still-hunter, fer it give 
me more time ter look inter fallen tree tops and brush 
then as if I was one er these here puff-zippin autymer- 
beels that young Platfs got down ter the village. 
"Anyways I dim' along up and 'twasn't long 'fore I see 
sumpin' movin' in a little holler 'bout five rod off, and 
gittin' closter out jumped a buck that looked like a full 
brother ter Old Golden fer size and 'purtenances. He 
come down all right when I onhitched on him, and I went 
over tew him, leavin' my rifle leanin' up aside a tree near 
where I fired. Sumpin' I never did before ner smce, but I 
felt so goldarned sure of that buck 't I didn't think er 
nothin' but just skinnin' him and luggin'^ a hindquarter 
back ter camp fer that overdue breakfast." 
Pell threw back his head and laughed quietly. 
"I was sumpin' of a bareback rider in my day," he went 
on, "but I never tried to ride on the under side of a 
horse with my legs hooked up over his back, so I couldn t 
give bein' outer practice as er excuse, but I want yer ter 
understand that when I straddled that buck as he was 
lyin' there kinder on his back, and put my knife point ter 
his throat, that when he got up, as he did, yer Uncle Pell 
jest clutched his legs around him and hung on. 
"Er course he couldn't travel no Star P'inter gait with 
a hundred and sixty poun' draggin' on his keel, but he 
bumped me along pretty lively, till it 'curred ter me ^twas 
time I was makin' a little livelier move toward gittm that 
breakfast. In the excitement I'd kep' the knife m my 
hand jest like a feller'll fall overboard outer a boat when 
he's spearin', and if he had^s pipe in his mouth when 
he started, he'll most likely find it right in the same place 
when he comes up to the top. It's cur'us, but it s so. 
Anyways I had that knife all right, and 'bout the first 
thing I did when I discovered it was to make a lunge at 
the old fellow's brisket with it. The p'mt went m and I 
could feel on the haft 't I'd struck sumpm', and m a 
couple er jumps down he come, right er course er top er 
"I crawled but fin under, holding on to a hind leg m 
case of more surprises. . ^u- » 
"It looked like lie was dead enough now, er breathin 
his last anyways, and right here I made another big 
mistake. Er course that up-ended ride give me a con- 
siderable shakin' up and I was a sweatin' some from it so 
I struck the knife inter the ground, butt up, and reached 
around to my hind pants' pocket ter git ray handkercher 
to wipe off my perspirin' brow. 
"I hadn't more'n strai.ghtened up with it in my hand 
'fore that old devil give a snort like the Efiin'ham's 
whistle down onto Schroon Lake and come to his feet like 
a circus performer turning a sumerset, all standin', head 
up and tail clinched tight. 
"He didn't give me a chanst to even reach fer that 
knife, and it 'peared that my old red handkercher acted 
like a red rag tew a bull, fer the moment he seen it he 
come on me like a catamount, and knocked me flatter'n 
one of Marthy's pancakes, strikin' and hookin' savage. 
'Bout this time I begun to realize 'twasn't so much a 
question of gettin' breakfast as 'twas of gettin' back ter 
camp for any me^ at all, and any time. 'In other words,' 
as a long-winded lawyer cuss who camped here once 
uster say, 'In other words, I begun ter wake up ter the 
fact that I'd gotter fight ter keep my insurance from 
comin' due.' 
"Well, we fit around there fer some minutes prob- 
ably—seemed days ter me — the old buck a-strikin' and 
a-hookin', and I a-hangin' to his horns and tryin' to git 
away from those hoofs of his: but all the time I was 
tryin' ter work him around ter where the knife was, 
thinkin' if I could only get to it someways I could man- 
age to spare a hand from his head and end the trouble. 
I had another hope, too, and that was he'd get weak from 
loss of blood, and perhaps give it up before I could get 
the knife or he'd played me out. The blood was comin' 
from his brisket cuts all right, and pretty good, too, I 
guess, but it didn't seem to make any difference ter him. 
"All ter once I found we was gittin' nearer and nearer 
to the knife, and I quit puUin', only hangin' on. 
"As soon's I did that I'll be goldarned if that old devil 
didn't drag me right over tew the knife, and I was jest 
gettin' ready to make my one-handed play fer it. when 
he raised his front right leg and come down onto that 
knife handle' kerwallop, and when he raised up ag'in yer 
can call me a warm-water sucker if he didn't have that 
knife fixed onto his hoof as pretty as anything you 
ever see. 
"Accident er not, yer can bet I was scared, fer it was 
sharp's a razor, and it give him 'bout eight inches more 
of strikin' reach, and he begun right away. Up went 
his sword arm and down she kim — slash — the hull of a 
boot leg gone, and a glancing cut on the ankle. He was 
goin' around on three legs, so's't he wouldn't lose the 
knife. 
"It's all right ter stick to yer ship and go down with 
her, but I begun ter make up ray mind 'twas better to 
desert and take my chance of being able to outfoot him 
to a young pine that stood 'bout six rods away. Ef he'd 
only insist on holding onto his weapon, I believed I c'rl 
dc it, fer I was Injun-built them days and c'd hoof it 
pretty lively, and if he'd go four-legged I thought per- 
haps he'd stick the knife inter the ground and git throwed. 
"Er course it takes a derned sight longer to tell all 
them thoughts than it did to think 'em, and the fact of 
the bizness is that about two seconds after he give me 
the cuts I'd broke loose from my affectionate embrace 
and was strikin' out fer that pine. 
"I've done my twenty and thirty miles a day a-walkin', 
and run six-mile an hour many a time and never thought 
about the distance or the gait, but there wasn't never no 
time in my hull life that a journey seemed so long or a 
place so hard to git to as it 'twas on the way to that 
pine. I c'd see it all right 'nough, but it looked more'n 
forty mile away, and 'bout as big as them fir trees that 
comes in a kid's Noah's Ark. 
"When I started, his tail was p'intin' to the tree, and 
er course I was facin' it. 
"Well, as soon as I let go I give his head a twitch to 
kinder daze him, and then I lit out. Natchully it took 
him a second or two to git the hang of things and git 
after me, but by that time yer Uncle Pell was under full 
steam, headin' fer the pine, and 'bout twenty feet in front 
of the enemy. 
"I looked round to see how we were doin', and I 
couldn't help noticin' that he had that sword arm drawed 
up under him and was perceedin' on three legs. 
"I guess there ain't any derned fool here but knows 
that a deer kin go 'bout as well on three legs as four, and 
it seemed ter me as though this one was goin' a leetle 
better'n most of them I'd seen crippled in one leg. Per- 
haps 'twas the peculiar circumstances made me f eel^ so ; 
however, he was comin', and what's more, was gainin'. 
"I ain't 'shamed to say now that when I discovered that 
he was probably goin' ter git me that I was sceered, and 
sceered bad. I'd had a purty good shakin' up in the fust 
place a-ridin' him and a-tryin' time tusslin' him, and I 
wasn't in no shape fer even that short sprint. Besides 
that, the almost human action of the derned old cuss and 
the endurin' efforts he'd made ter kill me with the knife 
onsettled me, and helped to make me sceered. ^ ^ 
"Well, I made up my mind 'twasn't no use a-lookm 
round, btit jist do m' best and trust to the Lord and my 
good trainin' and dig my toes in deep. 
"Well, I done so, and as I got 'bout thirty feet from 
the tree, not feelin' his breath on m' neck, ner seemin' 
to hear his jumps, my hopes riz, and I twisted m' head 
around. 
"Well, sir, yer can bet there wasn't no happier man m 
the world than I was that minit, when I seen that the 
old buck was on the ground with the blood pourin' from 
his wounds, and givin' them little kicks that always mean 
the end. , , , r 
"I didn't slow up. I jest simply let go and down I 
come all in a heap. It didn't hardly seem real, and I 
lay there some time before I begun to realize that I'd 
been saved from a cruel and unusu'l death. 
"I ain't much of a pray-er, but I give thanks fer my 
deliverance before I did another thing. 
" 'Well,' says I, to myself, as I got up, 'fer all 'pear- 
ances you are deader'n a last year's p'litical promise, but 
there ain't no power on earth that'll git me tew you 'til 
I'm fixed, so I jest give him a wide berth, and went back 
ter where I'd stood up my rifle, and then I come back at 
'bout four rod and fired seven shots into the old cuss 'fore 
I had the nerve ter go up tew him. , , , j , 
"He certainly was a strappin' animal, and he had the 
knife in his hoof. It made me shiver tew look at it. I 
had ter work at it a long time before I c'd git it out, but 
I did, and finally got home with that breakfast." 
The old man stopped short here, and knocking the 
burned tobacco dust from his pipe, refilled it from his 
pouch. 
"Pell," said I, "why didn't yOii cut off that hoof which 
held the knife and either keep it or present it to some 
museum as a curiosity?" 
"Huh !" replied Pell, "wouldn't nobody believe the story 
that went with it, would they?" 
Edwarb Sidney Rawson. 
Pout Richmond, N. Y, 
Advanced Ideas in Farming:, Trap- 
ping and Woodcraft. 
Number One. 
What most farmers lack 'is perception, the quality' 
that enables one to adapt to one's uses and require- 
ments those things that nature has especially provided — 
dear old Nature, who is always doing nice little thiiigs 
for farmers that are not half appreciated. 
I realized this long before I first began the free, 
rugged and independent life of a hardy, honest tiller 
of the soil, and often resolved that if I ever had the 
chance I would do a lot of adapting, particularly in the 
way of utilizing such animals and birds as usually spent 
their time loafing around and beating the world out 
of a living. I became a tiller. The word tiller has two 
definitions, one of which is, a steering apparatus. I am 
just now classifying myself as the latter, one who steers. 
I am endeavoring to steer my brother tiller, the other 
kind of tiller, the one who in tilling the soil, from the 
shoals and rocks of those who defer decisive actior 
till disaster has overwhelmed them. I am going tc 
steer my fellow agriculturist and horticulturist and other 
fellow strugglers against the ruthless tide of curcuHo, 
potato bugs, cut worms, elm leaf beetles, seventeen-year 
cicada, brown-tailed moth, hob-nail grub, peach-leaf 
curl, pear-blight, bee-diarrhoea, hog cholera and a few 
million other little devices which dear old Nature con- 
trives to make farming the exciting and absorbing oc- 
cupation it is, the things that cause woe and alienation 
of friendship, divorces, murder, arson, undue encroach- 
ment upon neighbor's property, line fences and hen 
coops, and eventually the frequent kerflop from the 
noble, yea, godlike attributes of a farmer to the de- 
gradation of a member of State legislature or county 
commissioner. It is my purpose to steer him away 
from the rocks and rapids, the shoals and qificksands, 
into the broad and placid waters, the peaceful life of a 
money-making, respected agriculturist, compared to 
which, floating down a canal in a houseboat with noth- 
ing to do but eat boned turkey, diamond-back terra- 
pin, chicken salad, lobster a la Newburg, drink iced 
milk punch and champagne frappe, smoke Perfecto 
cigars and peruse the pages of wisdom in Forest an'D 
Stream, would be an experience of wildest excitement 
and peril. 
I feel that 1 ought to do that miich for my fellow 
toilers, my less fortunate countrymen of the same walk 
in life, and that is why I am going to do it. I don't 
want a cent for it. I shordd not accept any compensa- 
tion if it were offered. I am not that kind of a philan- 
thropist. There is not, if I do say it myself, a mean 
hair in toy head, and I might add, not many of any 
kind. 
Still, if there are those who feel that such disinterested 
and whole-souled service should not go altogether un- 
rewarded, and in their gratitude should insist on send- 
ing to their benefactor a portion of the profits derived 
from Bohemian oats, seedless watermelons, perennial 
bearing rutabagas, short-weight butter and loaded wool 
fleeces, such persons can remit by New York draft or 
postoffice money orders; money sent in letters, if reg- 
istered, will be at sender's risk, if not registered T will 
take the chances. Personal checks on country banks 
(except sand banks) will be received at par, but not 
credited until it is ascertained whether the drawer has 
overdrawn his account. When the returns are all in 
I will try to send to every grateful remitter a beautiful 
marriage certificate printed in four colors, with two 
doves and a game rooster in each corner, provided that 
six cents in postage stamps are inclosed to pay postage 
and for ordinary wear and tear. I wish to be plain 
and unostentatious about this matter, for if there is any- 
thing that I hate more than another it is an ostenta- 
tious tiller of the soil. The Lord knows he has httle 
enough to be ostentatious about. 
The way I came to run up against all my valuable 
experience' was almost providential, yet logical, in fact, 
some might say it was pure fool luck; be that as it may, 
how much happier, better and wiser the world is for it 
The tears come unbidden to my eyes when I think of 
it— especially when I think of that new variety of triple 
strength onions that I invented, and the time that I 
first tried cayenne pepper to kill lice on my flock of 
ostriches. j ■ 
It was this way. My uncle and aunt made up their 
minds that they would let out their farm in the State 
of Kansas and go to Florida to engage in the manufac- 
ture of oranges and pineapples. When my uncle makes 
up his mind to do a thing, it is practically as good as 
done. I have excellent reason to remember this prom- 
inent trait in his character. While a youth I Avent to live 
with uncle, to attend district school, and incidentally 
do chores. I became impressed with the idea that a 
certain three-year-old colt, Avhich was a part of the 
farm stock, could trot about fast enough to beat any- 
thing in the county of his age; bareback, welter-weight, 
free for all, three-quarter dash, hop. skip and jump, 
huckleberry 'rules, or any old Avay. I decided to surrepti- 
tiously drop in on the county fair— those annual events 
that my dear departed friend, Josh Billings, used to 
denominate "Agricultural Hoss Trots"— and do the boys 
up Avith neatness and despatch. I did so. That is I 
dropped in, and subsequently dropped out, likewise 
dropped my Avad, and uncle dropped something when I 
retnrned home. I then realized the .stern realities of 
life, and that what uncle said he would do he did, prop- 
erly. That was a long time ago, and Avhy dwell on these 
