A Fall Fur Hunt in Maine 
IV.—The Coming of Winter—A Long Tramp in 
Frozen Clothing—Observations on the 
Habits of Animals 
By MANLY HARDY 
G OING Up the Sis, I cut the head off from 
a buffle - headed duck with my rifle; 
camped at the head of Daggett Pond; 
caught a few trout. 
“Oct. 18. Weather looks bad. Went up to 
Shallow Lake (rightly named) and set traps 
for mink and otter. Started to go to Long 
Pond, but as it began to rain we turned to¬ 
ward home, having set thirty-six mink traps, 
besides some for lynx and otter. Rained very 
hard, but we had a fair wind up the lake and 
reached home just at dark. Found the Indians 
had used our camp the night before, but had 
left everything in good order. 
“Oct. 19. Blows a living gale. Snowed last 
night and continued all day. Rufus started to 
look Baker Lake line. I looked traps all day, 
going in a canoe. Got nothing except a shel¬ 
drake caught in a beaver trap, and got wet all 
over in getting him. Went up to the bear trap. 
Found that it had been sprung by a bear and 
some of the long hair, which grows between 
the toes, pulled out as the jaws snapped. In 
setting it with levers, the levers slipped on the 
icy springs and I was thrown almost into the 
trap, the great toothed jaws smashing together 
close to my face. It was a close call.” In 
setting a bear trap it is safer to bear down 
one spring at a time and fasten it by winding 
a strap or body-belt around it, as then there is 
no chance for an accident. 
“Oct. 20. Snows hard. Went to look on S. 
W. sable line. Had a very wet time. Took 
out eight sable and shot a partridge. Rufus 
came in with seven sable, two beaver, a fisher 
and a mink and a partridge. All to-day’s fur 
except the beaver was taken in log traps. 
Rufus met the Indians on the near end of the 
carry, coming for their last load. John Brassua 
told him that he passed a fisher and a sable in 
our traps; should have hung them up and reset 
the traps, but feared we might not like for him 
to meddle.” A good many times I have had 
white men take game out of traps, often steal¬ 
ing trap and all; but I never had an Indian take 
either, though once, when mink were worth 
seven or eight dollars apiece, an Indian took 
pains to cover up a mink, which was in my 
trap, for fear that the sun would injure it. “Old 
Brassua had a good deal to say about the waste 
of time in building our camp. ‘Tell my son 
take them buggers two days and half make that 
house. When we camp, we camp; when house, 
we house.’ 
“Oct. 21. Snows. Have been busy skinning, 
making stretchers, stretching skins, etc. I got 
a beaver’s fore-foot and a muskrat. When 
Rufus is at home he fries up a big birch-bark 
dish full of doughnuts. He has a rolling-pin 
made of a maple stick with the bark peeled off 
and rolls out his dough on a clean sheet of thick 
birch bark. Also we often have fritters or pan¬ 
cakes, which we eat with syrup made from our 
sugar. For dinners, when separate, we carry 
a piece of the salted bear meat, rolled up in a 
thin sheet of birch bark to prevent its greasing 
our clothes. This we eat standing up in the 
snow, as unless we are together, we do not 
bother to make a fire at noon. 
“Oct. 22. Very cold; snow does not melt. 
Went across lake to Ross Pond., Made and 
baited twenty-six traps for sable, eleven for 
mink and two for fisher, and set up two old 
Indian killheags which we found. The stream 
between the lake and the pond is so narrow and 
crooked that in several places we had to take 
our canoe out and haul across bends, as the 
turns were too short for the canoe. In coming 
back we saw the muddy tracks of a bear which 
had crossed the stream while we were gone. 
Cut wood for Sunday as long as we could see. 
“Sunday, Oct. 23. Stayed in camp and read 
till after dinner. For the first time in my life 
the snow has fallen so early that the beech 
nuts had not dropped before it came. The 
last rain made a sharp crust and the high wind 
has shaken the beech nuts down by thousands; 
they have slid on the crust into the hollows, so 
that we can almost scrape them up by handfulls. 
“We took a walk after dinner up toward 
our bear trap to get some nuts. Rufus carried 
his pistol. Happening to look across the valley 
to the opposite ridge we saw something which 
I knew did not belong there, and another look 
showed that it was a bear hitched up. I 
.started to run toward him, and as Rufus has a 
bad foot, I outran him and was within a few 
feet of the bear before I realized that I had 
nothing with me but my belt knife. However, 
the bear was a rather small one, and wery 
clever. When Rufus came up, I asked him to 
aim between the eyes, but he aimed at the eye 
when the bear’s head was side toward him. The 
ball struck the upper jaw, and, as I afterward 
found, was flattened against it. The bear never 
took any notice of the report, but as the blood 
dropped on his forepaws he lapped it off and 
would look up as if expecting more to come 
from above. He amused himself in this way 
without paying any attention to us until Rufus 
had reloaded, when he shot him between the 
eyes, killing him instantly. He was a very 
nicely furred bear, and we took him down to 
the camp. 
“Oct. 24. Rose early and stretched our bear 
and started to look our Loon Lake traps. The 
lake is open, but the shores are iced up, where 
they have been washed by the waves. Going 
down four miles, we carried our canoe up over 
the sea-wall, and shouldering our packs, we 
followed our sable line four miles over to the 
Upper Hurd Pond. We were surprised to find 
it frozen clear across and as far down as we 
could see. We had previously left our spare 
canoe near a last year’s lumber camp, and see¬ 
ing two old hand-sleds, Rufus proposed to load 
the canoe on them and haul it down on the 
pond as far as the ice would hold and then 
break through to open water, as we knew that 
the stream below must be open. Placing our 
packs and axes and my rifle in the canoe, we 
started, using the canoe painter to haul by. 
We had gone down the pond only a hundred 
yards or so, and were about twenty yards off 
shore, when the ice began to bend and one sled- 
runner cut through. There was no time to be 
lost. If we both stayed there a minute we 
should all break in. So, snatching the setting- 
pole, I started for the shore. Rufus called to 
me to come back; but as I was the lightest, I 
thought I ought to take the risk. The ice 
bent under me and would not have held me if 
it had been clear water beneath instead of the 
thick gruelly mud. I did not raise my feet but 
skated them along and was getting near the 
shore when the ice bent so that I found I was 
going to break in, and I tried to jump for the 
shore. When I sprang, my leg broke through 
up to my knee and I was thrown flat, going in 
clear to my neck. By good fortune, a juniper 
root projected a foot or more from the bank, 
and I caught the end of it as I was going down. 
Drawing the setting-pole to me, I thrust it 
down its full length (twelve feet) but got no 
bottom. The bank was some two feet high 
and hollow beneath, so that I could get no 
more help than if trying to climb into a boat. 
It was very hard work getting out. By the 
time I got back to the old lumber camp, Rufus 
was back with the canoe, and by this time my 
