A Fall Fur Hunt in Maine 
III.—A Bear’s Bluff that Failed—A Compact 
With Penobscot Trappers 
By MANLY HARDY 
O N crossing to Smith’s we found them at 
work with oxen tearing out the middle 
of the long log house preparatory to 
building a board house in the center, leaving the 
ends of logs. All was confusion. We found 
that letters had been brought in for us, but they 
could not be found, so'getting fifty pounds of 
flour and a bushel of potatoes, we started back. 
Noon found us at the Upper Caucomgomoc 
Falls. Rufus wanted me to fish while he got 
ready to cook. As all we had besides flour and 
potatoes was a little pork, he was longing for 
trout. As the water was deepest on the east 
side, we landed there and I tried for trout, while 
Rufus went foa wood. Just back was a large 
camp ground with a set of old camps and hovels. 
Rufus soon came back saying that a partridge 
was walking in front of one of the hovels. He 
asked me to take my rifle and cut his head off. 
Having done this I resumed my fishing while 
Rufus sat beside me picking the partridge. Just 
as he said, “I don’t want partridge, I want trout, 
I had a bite and lifted out a trout as heavy as 
the pole would bear; the ganging broke just as 
he fell into Rufus’ lap. It was quite steep down 
to the water and Rufus and the trout rolled 
down nearly into the pool before Rufus could 
hold him. This trout was very slim for his 
length. I think he was nearly twenty inches 
long, but he would not weight over two and a 
half to three pounds. So we had trout instead 
of partridge for dinner. In taking a walk about 
while Rufus was frying the trout, another par¬ 
tridge lost his head. 
We started up stream after dinner. The wind, 
which had changed to the north, blew so hard 
that do our best we could not gain over two 
miles an hour. We reached the Horse Race 
Carry and lugged by all except our canoe. 
“Oct. 7. The wind blows so hard that a canoe 
could not live on the lake, so we have to lie by. 
Ate our last partridge; have only flour and pota¬ 
toes. I tried to kill something to live on, but 
the country is swampy, and with such a wind 
the chances were poor. I got a partridge and 
Rufus got a mess of small trout by hand-lining 
among the logs. A moose hunter last year told 
me of seeing a trout with white fins where a 
little brook comes in below the Horse Race. At 
the same place we both saw one with pure white 
fins. He would -weigh about a pound. We 
could stand on the logs just above him where he 
lay in not more than two feet of water, and we 
could see him plainly, but he could not be in¬ 
duced to bite.” We found here a cake board 
and a box for knives and forks left by the river 
drivers when the drive was abandoned. We 
propped the box up with a stick to which a fish 
line was tied, and using a piece of partridge’s 
entrail for bait, caught several Canada jays. 
They were ugly and scratched and bit fiercely. 
It snowed some and just after dark, as the 
wind seemed to be abating, we carried our canoe 
and things over the logs at the outlet of Cau¬ 
comgomoc, but before we could load the canoe 
the wind rose and the logs began to roll so that 
we were glad to get ashore again, pick up the 
scattered brands of the fire and camp on the old 
camp ground. 
Oct. 8. By 7 a. M. it had calmed down so that 
we crossed to the westward shore, and by keep¬ 
ing along the shore worked up to our camp, 
building four mink traps on the way. 
Rufus asked me to look at the bear trap while 
he got dinner. He said in fun: “You need only 
cut his throat and I will have dinner by the time 
you get back.” It was half a mile or more to 
the trap, which was set on a wide shelf of a 
ledge on the side of a hill among some large 
beeches which the bears had climbed for beech¬ 
nuts. On one side the rock rose abruptly and on the 
other the bare ledge dropped off fifteen or twenty 
feet perpendicularly, while below* the open beech 
land fell away gradually for a long distance. 
The trap was gone and a very plain trail led 
out on the bare ledge. I cou’d see the scratches 
made by the trap to the very edge of the ledge, 
but no bear and no trace of him could be found. 
He could not climb the ledge behind the shelf, 
and if he had fallen over it would be plainly 
seen; neither was there any trace on rock or 
leaves where he had retraced his steps. Finally 
I went quite a way around and got below the 
shelf, thinking that he must have walked on his 
hind feet and carried the clog. Concluding that 
he would naturally go down hill I began to half 
moon around in wide semi-circles until when I 
was quite a long way down the hill, I struck the 
trail in the beech leaves as plain as if made by 
a plough. Following this eight or ten rods I 
came to where it suddenly ended. I was cir¬ 
cling back and forth to pick up the trail again 
when I noticed a small spruce tipped to one side. 
On turning to look at this the bear, who was 
sitting up on his haunches, gave a growl and 
started for me, the chain rattling and clanking 
at every jump. My gun was a double-barreled 
muzzleloader-—we had no breechloaders then— 
one barrel rifle, forty-six to the pound, round 
ball, the other shot. Fearing the rifle might miss 
fire I stood and began to draw the shot to ex¬ 
change it for a bullet. The bear made a few 
jumps, but evidently not liking the idea of my 
standing still, reared up and clawed a large 
beech so as to make the splinters fly, then giv¬ 
ing an ugly “Wah!” started for me again. After 
a few more jumps he again attacked a tree and 
again growling savagely, started toward me. 
Evidently my standing still was not according 
to his program, as he made but a few jumps be¬ 
fore he sprang up a large beech, clearing trap 
and clog from the ground at the first leap and 
putting the tree between us as he climbed up 
some twenty feet, where he stuck his head out, 
growled at me, and at the same time swung the 
trap so that the clog would stand out almost at 
right angles and the chain would wrap around 
the tree as he threw the clog back and forth. 
The clog was a solid rock maple butt seven feet 
long and four inches through at the top end. 
Taking aim at the side of his neck just below 
the ear I fired. Almost as soon as tfie rifle 
cracked he tipped backward and fell with a 
crash as he struck the dry leaves. I walked 
round him with my shot barrel cocked as he 
lay in the hollow between two cradle knolls, but 
his open eye seemed to follow me and he was 
so large that I felt diffident about shaking hands 
with him till sure that he was dead. Reloading, 
I fired another ball into his head, but this was 
needless, as my first ball had broken his neck. 
Although he looked and talked savage enough 
when he was coming toward me, I think it was 
all bluff. If I had run from him he would prob¬ 
ably have followed for some distance. In buy¬ 
ing the skins of several thousands of black bears 
I have never known of any instance of a bear 
really attacking a person, either when in or out 
of a trap, though I have known several men to 
be hurt when trying to kill one either with an 
axe or a club. I have often known of bears 
doing as this one did, and in one case the hun¬ 
ter, who had a good repeater and was used to 
bears, having trapped over one hundred, stood 
until the bear came within rifle’s length, but after 
growling and threatening he finally drew back 
and was shot. There is no doubt that black bears 
often do follow people—so will a turkey, if the 
person runs, but I never knew of any case where 
a black bear ever overtook and killed any person. 
