FOREST AHt) STREAM. 
2^9 
Life in the Woods, 
VI. — The Old Trapper and his Bucks. 
North of Echo Lake there was a rough and rocky 
stretch of country about as wild as when only the wolf 
and the red man roamed over that section. Twice — and 
twice only — had civilization invaded it, and both times it 
was the lumbermen who ventured in. In the early seven- 
ties a small crew had cut of¥ a limited amount of the best 
pine, but their work was scattering, and nature had so 
far resented the intrusion that in the last of the eighties 
the trees the woodsmen had left standing, as shown by 
the old stumps, had grown to larger proportions than 
the trees first cut had ever attained. Again the eager 
competition for pine had caused another invasion nearly 
twenty years after the first, but only forty acres of trees 
were sacrificed that time. On account of the distance, 
the rocks, and the high ridges, this territory for many 
years was shunned by the hunters, but gradually, as 
game grew scarcer, and the wary deer withdrew to this 
fastness for protection, we began to prowl through the 
ravines and over the rocky nubs, though every time a deer 
was killed there the whole party vowed they would never 
help lug another out of such a hole. 
This spot was a favored one by the Old Trapper. There 
he could cover about an acre a day at his own gait. 
There he could prowl along the ledges or sit and sun 
himself on some rock and smoke his pipe in peace. There 
Quietness prevailed, and, surrounded by dark forests, deep 
ravines, and in every direction high knolls covered with 
trees or brush, it was possible tO' commune with nature 
until nature tired you out. We went over there one day 
and in the little forty-acre chopping we saw_ the track of 
a mighty deer. It was fresh and it was a big fellow. It 
spread out in the soft dirt something like the hoof of a 
big heifer, and it cut in as if the weight of an ox im- 
pressed it there. That was all we did see. We climbed 
all those ledges and crawled through every ravine. We 
navigated the hills and took birdseye views of the country 
until our eyes were tired, but no game. We kept going 
until the warm sun made us sweat as we never sweat be- 
fore, and until a gun felt almost as heavy as a railroad 
rail, but no deer. In fact, it was a case of "no nothing," 
excepting that track. In camp that night the Old Trap- 
per was contemplative, and finally reminiscent. He told 
about all the big deer he had ever seen, and the tracks 
they made. He told about all the big deer he had ever shot, 
and j ust how he did it, and I verily believe when he slept 
that night he did nothing but dream about that big buck, 
for the next morning we had a drive planned in which all 
were to participate^ and on which we rather banked for 
good results; but when ready to start, the Old Trapper 
said he guessed he wouldn't go out until later, and if he 
did go he rather reckoned he'd try and give that old buck 
a whirl. We urged in vain, and finally he admitted that 
he was after that big buck in dead earnest, and that he 
was going to get him, too. We went our way and he his. 
It was a bright, clear day. The sun had just risen as 
fresh and smiling as any sun could possibly rise. The air 
was almost as balmy as a summer morning. The blue- 
jays squalled and screamed to one another. The wood- 
pecker's call echoed through the woods, and the busy 
little red squirrels were chattering away on every side. 
The Old Trapper, by a trail well known to him, struck 
off straight for the home of that big buck. There was no 
noise over there save that made by the denizens of the 
woods. No echoing crash of gun, or call of man, or re- 
sounding clatter of the woodsman's ax disturbed the soli- 
tude. He reached the chopping and traveled all around 
it. He took several turns through the surrounding woods 
and around the swamps, but found nothing. He grew a 
little anxious, and searched more carefully for the buck, 
but not a fresh sign was to be seen. At last every place 
had been looked over and no encouragement at all re- 
ceived. He was about to give it up for that day as a bad 
job, and as he stood musing on a large log his gaze grad- 
ually centered on the highest knob in that whole section. 
It was stripped of every tree, and, save for some brakes 
and sweet fern, with an occasional sprouting pine, was ap- 
parently as bare as an egg. It towered above all the 
other points as the eighteen-story skyscraping buildings in 
the big cities o'ershadow their more unpretentious neigh- 
bors. It was about as large as the space occupied by 
two or three good-sized houses. Something moved the 
Old Trapper to think he had better go up there and 
look the country over. It was the only place where he 
had not been. He was tired. He was hot. His gun was 
heavy. He was a long way from camp. Would he go? 
Finally, hunter-like, he balanced a stick, saying to him- 
self, "Whichever way it falls, I will go." It fell toward 
the mass of rocks. Even then he hesitated and hated to 
move, but finally, impelled by some unknown power, he 
started. 
He reached the base of the ledge. What was that? 
Why should the blood go dancing through his veins as if 
he were only sixteen instead of sixty? He steadied him- 
self and stooped to look closer. There it was — the mam- 
moth track— and perfectly fresh, going up the hill, while 
close beside it was another track not quite, but almost, 
as large. The Old Trapper's old soldier instinct asserted 
itself. There was no indecision, no tremor, no excite- 
pacnt visible. Yarying his course to work against the 
wind, slowly he ascended. Oh, how slowly! From time 
to time he gently pushed aside the brakes and stopped to 
lay one side with careful hand every stick, twig, or leaf 
tiiat threatened to betray him. Step by step he neared the 
summit. Now he was half way, now almost there, but 
nothing came in sight, and the weight of disappointment 
began to settle over him, when suddenly, with a snort and 
a bound,_ two lai-ge patches of gray sprang up six rods 
before him, one to tlie right, and one to the left. The 
gun swung quickly to shoulder, and bang! the echo was 
turned back from rock to rock until it seemed as if a 
whole battery of artillery was in action. Again and again 
the vicious crack. Smoke was all around him. All was 
still save the echoes of the last report. Did he have him? 
Who could answer until, slowly from the ground some 
thirty rods away, there raised a massive pair of horns 
and slowly disappeared, pulled down by the mighty hand 
of death. The Old Trapper had captured his big buck. 
I'hat night in camp the boys opened a bottle of wine and 
celebrated the skill and luck of their old comrade in royal 
hunter's style. The deer weighed, when dressed and 
shipped home, 206 pounds. That came of having the 
right man in the right place at the right time. It was a 
i'me piece of stalking, and the game was bagged after a 
fair and square combat between animal sagacity and 
human reason. 
Perhaps it was the wine or the elation of success that 
loosened the Old Trapper's tongue that night, but at all 
events, before we turried in, he told us all about two other 
bjg bucks he shot one trip,^ and about one he didn't get. 
The incidents concerning the latter were about as follows: 
"We were hunting on the Poplar River that fall, and it 
v>-as a new country to all of us and some way or other we 
didn't get the hang of it very good. There was too con- 
founded much driving and a chasing around running 
through the woods. Why, they had it figured out how 
they were going to drive deer to such and such a place 
because they couldn't go nowhere else, and come to find 
out there was dozens of places along the route where a 
yoke of oxen could get through. I began to get pretty tired 
of running my legs off every day and one afternoon told 
the boys I guessed I'd look after my traps, so I started off 
up creek. Bimeby I come to a little ridge where the 
sun shone good and warm and thinks I to myself, 'I'll 
sit down here a minute and have a smoke.' So I gets 
out my pipe and fires her up. Now you fellows may 
laugh all you please, but the deer pays no attention to 
tobacco smoke, not half so much as they will to our 
camp-fires. Well, I sot there, having a pretty good time, 
when all of a sudden I see the bushes wiggling down in 
a little hollow to my right, and next thing out walks a 
nice big buck. He stood there rubbing his head in some 
bushes while I takes careful aim. Bang goes the old gun 
and down goes Mr. Buck and lays as quiet as a little 
lamb. Well, thinks I, 'that's a pretty good job after a 
week of no luck at all.' That's good enough for another 
smoke, so I puts down the old gun, fills up the old pipe 
again and fires her up. I had a double barrel gun, one 
barrel rifle and the other buckshot. I had fired the rifle 
and had put the gun down without reloading it. I felt 
pretty good just then and sat down and admired the big 
deer. I says to myself 'I'll go down and bleed and dress 
him and then I'll go to camp and get the boys to come 
out and carry him in,' as our camp was only half a mile 
away. I figured he'd weigh 190 pounds or thereabouts 
and allowed he was as handsome a deer as I ever see. 
I sot there several minutes and was just knocking the 
ashes out of my pipe when that buck commenced to 
wiggle and then to thrash around. I made a grab for 
my gun and by the time I got it to my shoulder the cuss 
was up and climbing through the brush as if nothing had 
ever happened to him. I let go the buckshot at him, but 
he_ was too far away. First I felt awful bad. Then I 
thinks, 'what will the boys say?' and I rather guessed I 
wouldn't tell them anything about it. Then I made up 
my mind that the old fellow couldn't go very far, so I 
hurried back to the camp and got the old hound Sport 
we had with us and put him on the track. He ran about 
quarter of a mile or so and then stopped barking. We 
never found the deer, and though we thought some other 
hunter did we were not able to prove it. If it hadn't 
been for the old pipe I'd have of had that deer killed and 
hung up a dozen times. Why I could have walked down 
and cut his throat or killed him with a club if necessary. 
You bet when I get a deer down now I get to him just 
as quick as I can, and I don't mind wasting a cartridge 
or two either to insure a good job." 
The two bucks that he did get were both shot at the 
"Gorge." One right in the "Gorge" and the other just a 
little outside. One weighed 175 pounds dressed and the 
other 198. They were both very fine deer. 
Our party had done very poor shooting that fall, and 
though individually we had a goodly number of oppor- 
tunities, yet we had not bagged much game. The end of 
the hunt was near at hand, there being just two days left, 
so we all vowed a mighty vow that we would kill some 
deer, but the Old Trapper was the only one whose skill 
counted for aught, and he had nearly given up when on 
his way to camp he got a long running shot and knocked 
a buck dowri in his tracks. He fell right on the bank 
of the Pembine, so we rigged up a raft, tied the deer on 
it and started the outfit adrift down stream. It went 
along pretty well except now and then it grounded on 
, i*apids and shoal places, and when this occurred the 
Old i rapper waded in though the ice was forming and 
pulled It off. It was a hard job just the same and we 
were not anxious to repeat the experience. The next 
day we all went out again, but had no luck excepting the 
Old i rapper. Pie had been up the creek and around 
Beaver Lake gettmg in a line of traps he had out for 
otter and mmk. He had secured the last one and fast- 
ened the whole bag full on his back and was on his way to 
camp. On reaching the "Gorge" he was tired out by his 
load and seated himself on a log with his back to a tree 
LO rest and smoke. As he was sitting there up walked 
a big buck and passed about six rods away. A quick 
shot through the shoulders settled him in short order 
though he staggered around a good deal knocking dowrl 
blood oTf Ih'"^ ''''' the ground with 
A a\ 0"Jio.lding a consultation at camp it was de- 
sf.1l H^ff same way as we did the other, 
1^ afternoon we worked to carry him to the 
Penibme, build another raft and float him down stream 
As he was a heavier deer he grounded of tener, giving us 
much more trouble, but as the team was coming fo? us 
mllTZ nJ^^T 'lu^'' °"t- These two shots 
made the Old Trapper the undisputed champion of that 
As otir old comrade had done so well on this particular 
Gay m killing the big buck alone and in a fair and 
square hunt, and that too after he had openly declared 
his intention of going after him, we opened another bottle 
whiH.'"' all drank to his health once more, after 
which we honored him still further by doing his share of 
the work in preparing for the next morning, by bringing 
and lS''vf "'"I'" whittling the kindlfngf 
fm hZ Tf^ /he coffee, meat and potatoes in readineis 
foi breakfast Then one by one we sought our bunks 
to sleep and dream. _ Some to rest in the complete uncon- 
sc ousness that fatigue and perfect health brings, and 
some to toss and dream of what they would do if only 
they had a chance at such a deer, or perchance to lie awake 
for a time listening to the sounds of the night, and to 
wonder what was going on in that different and seem- 
ingly so far distant world where dwell the loved ones, 
and from which in the complete isolation of the wild 
woods one seems at times so widely separated. 
r Carolus. 
Ltd be continued.] 
Destruction of Alaska Big Game. 
Bills introduced recently in Congress looking toward 
the repeal or modification of the Alaska game laws have 
naturally aroused much interest among big-game hunters, 
and have brought out many comments as to the different 
species of game found there, their abundance, and the 
rapidity with which they are being killed 
AVci^''!i.^''"''"il^yc-hf^" believed that 'in southeastern 
th^u ^'^^^ ^^^^ enormously abundant, 
and that there is no danger whatever of their extermina- 
tion by hunting, since the natives kill them almost alto- 
S^ther by shooting from canoes on the water 
Definite testimony on all matters connected with the 
preservation of Alaska big game is much to be desired 
and we print herewith copies of two private letters re- 
cently received by a gentleman in this city which have 
a direct bearing on the subject: 
Madison Grant, EsQ.—Dear Sir: In answer to your 
request, i am writing to you a few details about the 
destruction of game in Alaska by the natives 
It seems that all the Indians have an overwhelming 
desire to destroy animal life, no matter what the nature 
of the animal is, be it either fish, flesh, or fowl. 
Whenever we were camped near a salmon stream, and 
my men wanted some amusement, they would gaff quanti- 
^frl °f sal™"" and throw them upon the bank to die 
VV hen I remonstrated, they simply answered, "There are 
plenty more left." 
While after mountain goats, I met a party of three 
adult and two young Indians who were packing up por- 
tions of the carcasses of sixteen goats that two of them 
had killed that morning. They had, however, killed 
more than sixteen, as I counted eighteen carcasses myself 
that 1 actually found. In one pile among some granite 
boulders I found three dead goats that were untouched 
with the exception of one hindquarter that had been 
cut off. 
The following day I found several more carcasses 
about a mile further on that had been killed some time be- 
, fore as they were much decomposed. These were killed 
in August or even July. 
While hunting on Admiralty Island I found the car- 
casses of several deer that had been killed and left un- 
touched, and It was always difficult to keep my men from 
shooting them whenever they saw them. . 
One Indian was sent out to get one deer for some 
miners. In about two hours he came back with a deer 
slung over his shoulders, and said he had five more 
most y fawns and does, upon the mountain side. These 
could not possibly be used, as the weather was very 
warm. ■ : , . ■' 
Another Indian whom I met in Yankee Cove wanted to 
join my party, and as a recommendation told me he had 
Killed fifty-four caribou one morning. 
