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FOREST AND STREAM. 
[July 16, 1904. 
3ST1AN TOURIST 
The Passing of Outlaw Jake, 
The settlement of Goughville is a pre-eminently law- 
abiding .one, and consists of about six deacons, four jus- 
tices of the peace, two ministers of sorts, and some four 
or five hundred ordinary citizens. It is situated thirty 
miles from a railway, the inhabitants are all farmers, or 
interested in farming, and the only other thing they take 
any stock in is religion. Mr. Cripps chose this modern 
Garden of Eden as an abode when he found that the 
game wardens of the Province of New Brunswick were 
"after him." The "Guvvillers," as they are com- 
monly termed by people who do not claim Goughville for 
their place of birth, cared very little for the fact that Mr. 
Cripps and the authorities of the neighboring Province 
had fallen out ; but when Mr. Cripps supplemented his in- 
come by the manufacture and sale of "white-eye," public 
sentiment was aroused, and the result was an information 
against him for killing moose in close season, and having 
the same in possession. I was perfectly cognizant of the 
fact that Mr. Cripps had been informed on for no reason 
other than that he was selling whiskey, and that the 
deacon who laid the information had no more sympathy 
with the game law than Mr. Cripps had, but I had re- 
ceived "letters commendatory" or the reverse from a con- 
frere across the line, and I considered that the sooner the 
man was out of X ■ county, the better it would be for 
the game. 
The open season commences on the 15th of September. 
On the night of the 14th I visited the Cripps domicile, in 
company with a deputy sheriff of X county, and a 
constable. We captured Mr. Cripps, two carcasses of 
moose meat, two fresh hides, and a number of new moose 
snares. The justice of the peace who issued the warrant 
"soaked" the defendant for all he was worth, and in de- 
fault of payment, sent him to jail for the longest term the 
law allowed. 
I was agreeably surprised to find the authorities and 
myself of one mind for once. As a rule, it was hard work- 
to get a conviction for a breach of the game laws, but in 
this instance I consider the culprit got all he deserved. 
The reader may ask, why was he not indicted for selling 
liquor without a license? The answer is that the in- 
spector of license had a number of valuable Jersey cows, 
and a pound or two of paris green would have squared 
any outstanding grudge, with a large balance on Mr. 
Cripps' side. I had no cows, and no house to be burnt, 
and as far as any fear of physical violence went, I could 
have taken Cripps by the scruff of the neck and the seat 
of the pants and "fired" him out of the window. 
When the sheriff arrested him, he also levied on his 
goods and chattels to satisfy an outstanding judgment. 
Apart from the moose meat, which was of course contra- 
band, there was about ten dollars' worth of furniture, an 
old Snider rifle, a few rusty traps, and a black setter dog. 
I purchased the dog for fifty cents at sheriff's sale. My 
motive for doing so was a remark one of the bystanders 
let fall, "That there dog's no manner of use; Cripps never 
let . him run a bird, and if he saw one, he would only sit 
down and look at it." Cripps remarked, after we had the 
handcuffs on him, "If only old Jake had been loose, there 
would have been fun for you fellows." I took no stock in 
the remark at the time. Two days after the sale of the 
outlaw's goods, I received a telegram from the game 
warden, who had written me about Cripps before: "Buy 
Cripps' dog for me if possible ; hear owner is in trouble ; 
will write." I wired back, "Have already bought him for 
myself. Sorry." My friend answered: "Congratulate 
you on having the best dog that ever ran on Tantaramar 
marsh." 
I regarded this as a bit of gentle sarcasm; but when I 
had had the beast a fortnight, I found there was more 
truth than poetry in my friend's wire. To make a long 
story short, I shot over Jake all that season, and, refused 
a hundred dollars for him. When the winter came, I ac- 
cepted an invitation to go South with an American I had 
shot with, and Jake went with us. He did as well on quail 
as he had done on ruffed grouse, cock, and snipe ; he was 
a good retriever, and his nose was perfect. Every now 
and then, when I read the report of some prize winner, 
and his achievements, I noticed that his grand-dam or 
grand-sire was by Outlaw Jake, There was one thing 
about the old fellow I didn't like— he was as cross as - 
two bears if anyone came near me when he was around. 
I had to "whale him" on more than one occasion for this ; 
finally I considered that I had knocked the nonsense out 
of him. — 
I went home in March. The weather was perfect in 
South Carolina then, but when the steamer put into Hali- 
fax' a raging blizzard was blowing, the trains were 
blocked, and it was ten below zero. Jake and I made our 
way to the hotel, and on the following day we returned to 
Goughville. I think the old dog rather enjoyed the thirty- 
mile scamper after the sleigh, and the sensation of feeling 
snow under his pads once more. I found that Mr. Cripps 
had served his sentence out, and that he had left the 
county, for which I was truly thankful. 
For two years I shot over old Jake, and each year he did 
better work. I raised a number of pups from him, and 
sold them at a good price. Then I moved away from 
Goughville, rather to my regret, as the woodcock shooting 
there was superb, and I had had it all to myself. 
This was in the days when breechloaders were scarce, 
haromsrless guns unknown, and smokeless pow4er an 
unheard of thing. Woodcock were known as mud-hens, 
and when my housekeeper was asked where I was, at any 
time in the months of September and October, when I 
wasn't moose hunting or looking up snares, her reply 
would be, "Pie's gan a-mud-hennin." Alas ! those blissful 
days have passed; the Guvillers have found out the com- 
mercial value of the mud-hen, and the utility of the setter 
in pursuing it. The bird-dog that hunted and treed par- 
tridges, is extinct in the land, and woodcock will soon be 
extinct, too, unless pot-hunters and game hogs can be 
restrained. 
Both cock and snipe were numerous in my new district; 
so were sportsmen, and it was my habit to take a week or 
so every fall on the old ground. Our covers were later — 
say 'from October 10 to November 20. Now, while I was 
at Goughville, I had made the acquaintance of one 
Tommy Fergusson, a member of Her Majesty's Inland 
Revenue Department. Mr. Fergusson, whose duties often 
took him to the woods in pursuit of the illicit still, had 
given me valuable information, as to moose snares, on 
more /than one occasion, on the understanding that I 
should reciprocate in the matter of "moonshining." As 
the merry moonshiner often replenishes his larder with 
moose meat, and preferred to snare the game to calling or 
creeping it, I was glad to drive a bargain with Tommy. 
He was a man who not only understood his work, and 
loved it, but he was admirably fitted for it physically. 
Over six feet in height, big and strong in proportion, and 
plucky as a bulldog, he did more to break up illicit dis- 
tillation than any two men in his branch of the service. 
When he turned, up at my new place of abode, five hun- 
dred miles from Goughville, and registered at the hotel I 
boarded at as "Mr. John Smith," I concluded that he would 
prefer to maintain his incognito; so I passed him in the 
hall and did not recognize him. When he was introduced 
to me later on by "the landlord, I found out that he was 
interested in nickel mines, and required a man who -knew 
the woods to show him round. Nickel was the fashion 
in those days, the Sudbury works were at their zenith, 
and every rock that looked out of the common was sup- 
posed to be nickel ore. 
In the privacy of his own apartment, Tommy confided 
to me that he had just run down a still of unusual size, 
and that the capture of the parties operating it would 
mean the conviction of several large firms who were buy- 
ing their product. The "pot" was located in an abandoned 
cook-house, a mile from the nearest road, the operators 
were one Silas McDorman, late of Judique, in Cape 
Breton, and a small man whose name was not known. 
McDorman was a giant ; he did all the hard work for the 
concern Tommy was after. He lugged in the molasses 
from which the alcohol was made, and later on backed 
out the finished product to the store of the worthy 
patriarch, who forwarded it - to its destination on the 
schooner Rechabite. 
By what means the Department of Inland Revenue 
gained this information, I am unable to say; anyway they 
had it, and Tommy Fergusson was detailed .to capture 
still, moonshiners, and the Rechabite at any cost. He had 
a supreme contempt for the ordinary constable, and one 
Of the Provincial force had been detailed to assist him. 
He had been given carte blanche in the selection of his 
other help, and he wished me to form one of the party. 
As I had nothing particular to do at the time, I. had no 
objection, especially as there might be a little money in 
the racket. The time to act had not arrived, and for 
some days Tommy and I hunted for nickel, and inci- 
dentally for partridges. We found none of (he nickel ■ 
and plenty of the birds. - We avoided the old cook-house, 
which had been erected by a now bankrupt mining com- 
pany. The entrance to the road which led to it was 
barred by a trespass notice; the property, consisting of 
about five hundred acres, was "in law," and there was no 
possibility -of approaching it without being seen. A more 
ideal place for moonshining could hardly be imagined. 
The cook-house was provided with water , from a -spring 
some distance away; the fuel supply was unlimited, and no 
one other than a constable or peace officer had any right to 
intrude. Alcohol, at the time I speak of, was worth $3.50 
a gallon in Canada (it is worth nearly $5 now), and 
Tommy estimated that our friends were turning out 
nearly 300 gallons a month, which meant a loss of over $900 
a month to : Pier Majesty's revenues from this one still. We 
met McDorman once or twice when we were buying stuff 
at the store he left his alcohol at. Of course we took no 
notice of him, nor he of us. Though he did not know 
Tommy Fergusson, Tommy knew him, having arrested 
him some years previously for handling "white-eye." On 
that occasion Silas had "squealed," and in consequence 
got off with a nominal sentence. Tommy had grown a 
beard since then, consequently he was not recognized. 
After we had passed several days shooting partridges, 
and incidentally watching the cook-house through our 
glasses, the Provincial constable turned up. He had been 
working on the other end of the line. 
1 What passed between the two officers, I am unable to 
say, but the night after\ Provincial Chief Constable 
Bright's arrival, Tommy told me to get ready for a coup. 
"Getting read}'" meant putting my coat and hat on, taking 
a good slick in my hand, and stepping into the express 
wagon, driven by a local constable, in which we hoped to 
bring back our prisoners. 
It may seem strange that we took no firearms. As a 
matter of fact, Tommy bad a ,44 vest-pocket derringer, 
and Mr. Bright had a revolver of sorts. We drove about 
four miles, and had almost arrived at the road to the 
abandoned mine, when my dog Jake came in sight ; he had 
evidently escaped from the stable I kept him in, and followed 
the team. "Never mind the dog," said Tommy, when his 
friend growled out an oath, "he's as good as a man any 
time, and knows every word you say to him." I spoke to 
Jake and he fell in behind the wagon, where he remained 
until we reached the spot where we intended to get out. 
The driver was to give us ten minutes' start, then follow 
us at a walk, and — we hoped — reach the cook-house just 
as we had our birds bagged. 
It was a quiet fall night, warm and damp, with very 
little moon. We made our way along . the disused road, 
Jake keeping close to heel, until we arrived .at the mine. 
An abandoned gold mine is perhaps the most forlorn 
looking place on earth. The piles of rock, the rotten der- 
ricks, and half ruined shanties look dismal enough by 
day, but they are ten times worse by night. The cook- 
house, a two and a half story building in good repair, 
steed close to one of the dumps, and in the shadow ~of 
that and the shaft-house we were enabled to get within 
thirty feet of it. No light came from the windows, which 
were closely shuttered. ' As we stood for a moment in the 
shadow I caught a whiff of a sour, pungent smell, and 
noticed a spark or two drift upward from the chimney of 
the silent house. "Malt as well as molasses," murmured 
Tommy. "Wonder where they got it, or if they made it. 
- We'll soon know, anyhow." A pile of poles lay near ; 
Tommy selected a medium sized one, which the three of 
us took up. Advancing to within ten feet of the door, he 
called on the inmates of the house to "Open in the 
Queen's name," and without waiting for them to reply, 
the impromptu battering ram crashed against the panels. 
The door went down at the first shock; we dropped our 
pole and rushed in. The house was full of steam, and the 
same acrid smell we had noticed outside pervaded the 
place, only in a tenfold degree. ■ 
McDorman met us as soon as we entered. He had a 
broadax in his hand, and looked as if he meant to use it. 
"Better drcp that ax, and come along with a whole 
skin, Silas," said Mr. Bright. "There are four of us here 
besides the dog, and a few more outside." The big Scotch- 
man hesitated for an instant, then he surrendered. 
"Where's that little snake that works with you?" asked 
Bright, when he had handcuffed McDorman. 
"He's upstairs, ill in bed, if lie is still alive," was the 
reply. / . 
Leaving the prisoner in Bright's care we ran up the 
staircase. The dog had preceded us a moment before. 
The bedroom door was open, a fairly comfortable bed was 
in one orncr of the room, a table stood by it, with an oil 
lamp and some medicine bottles on it. On the bed- lay an 
under-sized man, partly dressed, on whom Jake was 
fawning and slobbering with all his might. 
"Sammy Cripps, by all that's holy," said the officer. . "I 
thought you were across the line, Sammy." 
As he spoke the dog dropped from the bed and wheeled 
round. I am tolerably well acquainted with the facial ex- 
pression of all kinds of dogs, and I can. truthfully say that 
I never saw a dog's face change from ecstacy to utter fury 
in such a brief time. 
"Look out for the dog, Tommy !" I cried. 
"Never mind the dog — it's the man I'm after," he re- 
plied. "Samuel Cripps, I arrest you in the Queen's name. 
It's no use to sham sick." 
As he said this, he took a step toward the bed. Jake 
uttered a sound more like a roar than a bark, and 
launched his fifty odd pounds of -weight at the excise- 
man's throat like a bolt from a catapult. Fergusson was 
a man of more than ordinary strength, but he was taken 
by surprise, lost his balance, and in an instant he was on 
his back, with Jake tearing at his throat. The lamp went 
out, and I could hear Bright, in the hall below, shouting 
to me to shoot the assailant. 
It was impossible for me to catch the dog, he refused, 
to heed my frantic shouts, and I had no matches. Then 
crane a flash, a smothered report, and an odor of singed 
fur; Jake rolled over on his side, and Fergusson stag- 
gered to his feet. The sick man managed to find, the 
match-box, and struck a light. I picked up the lamp 
which had been- upset ; there was some oil in it, though 
the chimney was broken. Jake lay motionless on the 
, floor, the blood running from a bullet wound in his side; 
Fergusson, covered with blood, struggled to his feet, 
clutching at his neck, from which the blood was streaming. 
The local constable had arrived by this time; Bright 
left his prisoner with him and came upstairs. I have a 
fair knowledge of emergency surgery, and with Bright's 
aid I bandaged the wounded man with strips of torn up 
sheeting. He was too badly torn to go back to town, so it 
was hurriedly arranged that Fergusson and I should re- 
main in charge of the house until Bright could convey 
his prison'" - to the jail , and return with a surgeon. 
McDorma' bed was in the next room to Cripps'; we 
carried tlr <ciseman in and laid him on the bunk. Then 
the team if ;ve off with the prisoner on board, and I was 
left alone ,\ ith the , sick man, my wounded friend, and the 
clog. Cripps told me where to find some brandy, and I 
gave Fergusson a drink. Then I sat by him for nearly 
half an hour, when 1 heard a low- whine. "Let me have 
another cartridge, Fergusstjti," I said. ''That dog lias 
come to life again, and I want to put an end to his 
misery." Fergusson replied {hat he hadn't another c&f- 
