2)0 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Feb. 20, 1909. 
lows grew. Here we found the monster cat 
stretched out upon the snow, dead. How power¬ 
ful he looked even when cold in death. I shud¬ 
dered to contemplate what might have happened 
had the creature attacked my husband on the 
trail. He, with all the sublime assurance of a 
man, laughed at my fears. I have since learned 
that I need have had no fears, as the big cat 
is an arrant coward. His skin still adorns our 
sitting room. 
The trapping had proven very fortunate. We 
had a goodly number of fine furs. The marten 
were the best, beautiful seal brown skins with 
fur soft as silk. Others—the most valuable—• 
were nearly black. Still others were nearly 
lemon yellow. I thought the fisher skins the 
handsomest, but they had less value in the fur 
market. 
When the season was about half over, we had 
our first trouble. The traps were found robbed 
of their catch, the baits stolen, and oftentimes 
the pens torn away and the logs scattered all 
around. At first we were ignorant as to what 
caused this, but soon learned that our visitor was 
a wolverine. Every trapper must sooner or later 
encounter this thief of the trap trail, and every¬ 
one must pit his intelligence against the animal 
cunning of the creature. Unless my husband 
could capture or kill him, our winter would be 
spoiled. The wolverine is, without exception, 
the most cunning beast that lives. He combines 
the almost human intelligence of the monkey 
with the secretiveness of the fox. Add to this 
the physical power of a bear and the inquisitive¬ 
ness of a raccoon and the ■whole furnishes a 
problem for the woodsman that is very difficult 
to solve. 
My husband set about the solution like a 
veteran. He let the traps remain unbaited ex¬ 
cept a few near the cabin. These were regu¬ 
larly torn up as fast as they were fixed. Steel 
traps, deadfalls, pits, everything intended for his 
own capture, were religiously .ignored by the 
Northern devil, as the Indians call him. Nor 
was he ever seen. Many times my husband 
watched for him all day, secreted near the trail 
where he passed, but on the return to camp that 
night it would be seen where the cunning animal 
had come to within smelling distance of where 
the watcher lay and then turned away. 
At last the problem was solved and like many 
a knotty problem the solution, when it did 
come, came very easily. We noticed that when¬ 
ever the wolverine followed my husband’s trail 
that he stepped directly in the footprints. That 
knowledge gave birth to an idea. One day we 
went out on the trap trail some two or three 
miles, baiting the traps as we went. At the 
point where we decided to return my husband 
constructed a snare just like that the Indians use 
to snare rabbits. He bent down a large fir tree 
and to the top of it fastened a loop of iron wire. 
The bent tree he secured in such manner that 
it would be released by a slight pressure. The 
loop of wire he spread out upon the ground, 
digging away the snow for that purpose. We 
had constructed so many devices for capturing 
the animal, all of which he had scorned, that I 
opined he would sit down on the snow and laugh 
at this clumsy contrivance. My husband bade 
me wait and see. We returned to the cabin to 
find on the way back that our unwelcome guest 
had torn off all the baits. 
That night it snowed and in the morning my 
husband went over that part of the trail, bait¬ 
ing the traps. When he arrived at the snare 
he was careful to put his foot right in the center 
of the loop, but not to touch the trigger. The 
next day I went with him to see the wolverine, 
for he was sure we had captured him. There 
was no wolverine in the snare when we reached 
it. He had been near to the snare, however; 
in fact, he had followed right in my husband’s 
footsteps until within two steps of the snare, 
when he turned aside and walked deliberately 
around. 
We were in despair. We decided to try the 
plan once more. It snowed again. My husband 
went over the trail, pursuing the same tactics as 
before. For several days he did this without 
result, until one morning, after he had been 
away some two hours, I was startled by a shout. 
When I had attained to the age of twenty- 
one years, and was enjoying the pleasures 
which such a period usually brings, I thought 
there could not be any existence happier. 
Everything seemed bright and rosy, and life 
was a joyous dream. I looked at men forty 
years old, and wondered what enjoyment there 
was for them in life; they were absorbed in 
business, professional pursuits, workmen, 
toilers, ambitious politicians, and all other pur¬ 
suits which go to make up active men’s lives. 
They seemed not to care for the pleasures I 
did. What possible happiness could be in life 
for them? It seemed they had outlined their 
possibility of enjoyment. All beauty and sen¬ 
timent seemed to have passed out of them. 
In due time I reached the forty-year period. 
What was I doing to make myself happy? I 
had married; was tasting the sweets of a happy 
conjugal life. Prattling children met me when 
I came home. 1 had plunged head-long into a 
business career to provide for their growing 
wants. Was I ready to die then? Oh, no! I 
had my pleasures with increasing knowledge 
and experience. 
Thirty more years have passed, and I am 
here }"et. Is existence a dreary waste to a man 
of three-score and ten? Business life has been 
a struggle with competitors; children have 
grown up, and been well educated, so as to 
equip them for the demands of the times; have 
gone out to provide for themselves, and some¬ 
thing for me, too, if I should need it. The 
activities of my life are over. I have retired 
to a country home to end my days in a land 
of mountains and high hills, covered with 
somber pines. At my feet run cool rivers and 
ice-cold streams from melting snows high up 
on lofty peaks; fresh-water lakes, salty bays 
and the restless ocean surf are not far away. 
Generous earth brings forth bright and 
odorous flowers to delight the sight and senses; 
I ran to the door and saw him frantically wav¬ 
ing for me to come. I snatched my hood and 
joined him. Without a word he led me through 
the forest, along the trap trail to where the 
snare lay. When we reached it I saw a great 
animal dangling twenty feet in the air, frozen 
stiff. It was our robber gentleman. He had 
fallen a victim to his inability to remember. He 
had trudged along with his head down, probably 
studying up some deviltry, placing his feet in 
the marks left by his human predecessor, when 
all at once he found himself jerked twenty feet 
in air with an ever tightening coil of wire about 
him that he could not bite in two. We were 
rid of him. Still it seemed a pity to kill a 
creature because he was obe3dng the instincts 
given him by his Creator and ours. 
[to be concluded.] 
L. B. 
luscious fruits to gratify our tastes and supply 
our needs. Grass covers the ground, golden 
grain waves in the fields, while commerce goes' 
by on speeding trains, and moves majestically 
over mighty waters in ocean steamers. I 
work, and sleep, and go when and where I 
please. What fitter place for an old man to 
spend his remaining days amid scenes that 
but remind him of man beginning his existence 
in an earthly paradise—a garden, a park, a 
sylvan scene of mountains, hills, valleys, 
streams, rushing waterfalls, trees, flowers, all 
green things that spring from the bounteous 
soil, all emblematic of the happiness that by 
faith awaits us in the future existence in the 
paradise of God. 
I have passed through the fleeting pleasures 
of immature youth; taken part in the joys and 
work of active middle life, and have reached 
the' third and last stage of existence, with 
natural forces of body and mind somewhat 
abated, yet I do not feel old. I still love to row 
and sail a boat; camp in and roam through the 
woods; to follow the streams with rod and 
line; to go afield with gun and dogs. The cry 
of the hounds is music to my ears; the intelli¬ 
gent workings of well-trained dogs is a delight 
to my sight, and I can follow them on a tramp 
of fifteen miles any day. 
I enjoy the taste of the products of the chase, 
but must confess to a growing dislike to taking 
life from the creatures that are so beautiful and 
active, and apparently enjoying existence to 
the fullest extent of their limited capacities. 
But such tragedies we see every day in our 
varied experiences. By indulging in these out¬ 
door pastimes, and living a temperate and 
frugal life, I hope ever to keep young in spirit 
and thought, and not consider the sere and 
yellow leaf stage of existence to have arrived 
until, like the faded and useless foliage on the 
tree, I drop gently down to the earth, and cease 
my existence here. 
Irv the F\illr\ess of Yea^rs 
By R 
