754 
FOREST AND STREAM 
June 15, 1912 
streams emptying into that river upon whose 
waters many an enjoyable cruise can l)e taken, 
and on whose shores good camping places can 
be found. The Delaware River itself presents 
attractive cruises between different points, but I 
will not dwell upon its many good features, as 
much is already known of them among canoeists 
of both the Delaware and Hudson rivers. How¬ 
ever, I might briefly outline a trip down the river, 
starting at Park Island, which would allow a 
visit to be made to each club house along the 
line. Park Island, situated in the middle of the 
Delaware some two or three miles above Tren¬ 
ton, is the home of the Park Island Canoeing 
Association, who claim they have the finest spot 
in the United States. Having been there on 
numerous occasions I am inclined to the same 
opinion. The summer houses of the Trenton and 
Mohawk Canoe Clubs are located at Trenton. 
P REVIOUS chapters have explained why my 
hunting is all done at home; why I am 
compelled to wait for animals, birds and 
fishes to come my way. It is not a bad method 
of hunting, though if occasionally results in a 
mix-up of things tame and things wild. 
Our family cow is a fawn-colored Jersey, with 
deer-like eyes and ears. She finds pasture some¬ 
times in the lower meadow. When I bought her 
she was a woods runner and a log jumper, but 
being of a gentle disposition she soon accepted 
the tether and learned to be contented under re¬ 
straint. 
One day she was tied near the lower edge of 
the meadow, just back of a huge log and close 
to the forest. The grass there was abundant, 
and she was well satisfied, but she nevertheless 
looked expectantly over the log as I approached 
her at milking time. Her head was up and her 
ears well forward, and she received the word 
that she anticipated. As the nights were cool, 
she was taken to her usual indoors bed, and I 
then went about other chores. 
It happened that another errand a little later 
took me again to the lower meadow. Darkness 
was approaching, but all things were as yet visi¬ 
ble in clear and distinct outline. 
Routine work soon becomes mechanical; we 
do things from habit that are done every day. 
We even do them withou't thought. 
It did not surprise me at all to see the cow 
standing behind the log, with head up and ears 
well forward. But it surprised me that she had 
been forgotten; surprised me into a sudden halt¬ 
ing. Then the mental fog lifted, and I knew 
what had happened. 
Without moving I gave the “come’’ signal to 
the household, and the cabin folks responded 
quickly. Wife and daughter were soon at my 
side. The “cow” did not stir and presently we 
saw that she had a fawn with her. Her dis¬ 
tance from us, as afterward determined, was 
fifty paces, and she held her place while the 
Across the river, at Morrisville, we find the Chip¬ 
pewa Canoe Club, a comparatively new organiza¬ 
tion, the membership of wlijch is composed ex¬ 
clusively of canoeists. A visitation to any of 
these clubs will be well worth the while, and 
they will make you feel at home in their own 
inimitable way. 
A paddle of six miles after we leave Trenton 
brings us to the Yapewi Aquatic Club at Bor- 
dentown. If you tarry here you will be treated 
most hospitably and will regret leaving the 
“Yaps.” Five miles further down the river we 
stop at the Mohican Boat Club, at Florence, an 
organization of young canoeists who are fast 
coming to the front as enthusiasts. They are 
always glad to entertain men who are older in 
the game and who can give them a few good 
points. After paddling another five miles we 
arrive at the Lakanoo Boat Club, at Burlington. 
By ERION 
younger member of our party approached to 
within thirty paces. Then the “cow” and fawn 
trotted off into the woods, rattling the gravel as 
they crossed the stream, and clearing a great 
fallen log on the opposite bank. The beauty of 
this animal and her trustfulness made us forget 
for the moment that she had been a great tres¬ 
passer and destroyer of our garden crops; that 
she had been eating nearly everything, from beets 
and carrots to strawberry plants and young rasp¬ 
berry bushes. It is a reasonable presumption 
that this doe had long lived near us and had 
often looked upon human beings. 
Another deer story had a different end ng and 
had to do with a big knife. My latter day 
weapon of defense, when alone in the primeval 
forest, is a pocket knife with a blade two and 
one-quarter inches long; the same knife with 
which I used to sharpen lead pencils in that 
eastern city of yesterday. But before knowledge 
had come, before fear of bears and cougars and 
cats had wholly faded aw'ay, I once bought a 
fine, strong knife of the pocket-breaking sort. 
(It has since been lying in a drawer for years.) 
The new knife was of high repute, with heavy 
blade and keen edge. And the very day it 
reached me I was whetting it and oiling the 
stiff spring and telling a visitor about its merits. 
My neighbor spent the evening with me and 
then started home. It was a night of blackness; 
an exceedingly gloomy night, so far as weather 
was concerned. 
For some reason I did not at once go to bed, 
but sat by the stove, still clicking and working 
with the stiff spring of the new knife; a pro¬ 
ceeding not to my wife’s fancy, for women al¬ 
ways dislike the click of a sharp pocket knife. 
Presenth' there wms a rifle shot and then a 
cry; the despairing wail (it was not a howl) 
of a large animal in great pain. Then a voice 
came out of the darkness: “Come quick, and 
bring a knife!” Then a lantern sent a flash in 
our direction, followed by darkness. Then once 
The latch string is always hanging out within 
reach of every cruiser, and you will be accorded 
a warm welcome there. From Burlington to the 
next club of particular mention is a distance of 
twelve miles, but “the further you go the better 
is the going” is a true saying in this instance, 
and it is with this thought that we paddle the 
twelve miles cheerfully to the Red Dragon Canoe 
Club at Wissinoming. Here we find a manifes¬ 
tation of the true spirit of a canoeist in the 
hand shake and salutation, “Glad to see you.” 
We have now taken a cruise of some thirty miles 
and at all times have been within almost hailing 
distance of the homes of the Delaware River 
canoeists. We have mingled with the members 
of the different clubs located along this beautiful 
river, and at the same time had some good pad¬ 
dling, and what better cruise could a man desire 
of its kind? 
Forest 
more came that awful wail or bellow of pain, 
fright and anguish. It was a most despairing, 
heart-rending, frightful sound. 
Of course response was instantly made to the 
human call for help, and I was with my neigh¬ 
bor in a few moments. He was leaning and 
half lying on a prostrate deer; the man helpless 
by reason of some strange furniture on his back, 
and the deer paralyzed by a rifle ball in the 
spine. 
Doing as bidden, I plunged the blade of the 
new knife into the animal's throat and felt warm 
blood flow in streams over my hands; at first 
in great regular pulsations; then more fahitly; 
then not at all. It was not pleasant work; not 
hunting and not sport, but it was doing service 
to a neighbor. 
Turning backward in thought toward that 
event, it is still a marvel that my neighbor was 
not badly hurt by the hoofs of that wounded 
deer, for the animal had no small amount of 
life and energy even when I arrived upon the 
scene. 
It seems that the young man had been an¬ 
noyed a good deal by trespassing deer, which 
came at night and devoured his vegetables. The 
animals came close to his cabin and made sport 
of the dog sent out to drive them away. Finally 
somebody told him that if he would fasten a 
lamp on his hat or above his head, he could gel 
near enough to the intruders to shoot and kill 
them. 
On the way home from his evening with me 
he had heard deer among his apple trees, where¬ 
upon he had somehow lashed a pole to his back, 
suspended a lantern over h'S head, taken his 
rifle and fired a shot. The lantern bobbed around 
for a few moments after the rifle had been dis¬ 
charged, but when an effort was made to hold 
the struggling animal, the light was extinguished. 
There was something ludicrous in the situa¬ 
tion, for the man could neither hold on nor 
let go; he was crippled in the back, somewhat 
From Eastern City to Western 
Chapter V.—Two Deer Stories 
