[Jan. 18, 1908. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Eighty Rods of Bear Track. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
One Sunday in October we had a typical Adi¬ 
rondack autumn snowfall. It came down in small 
soft flakes, sticking to everything. At first they 
melted on the tree trunks and on the leaves, but 
after a while these objects became whitened and 
the ground was more or less covered. All day 
there was a feeling in the air that this storm was 
a bit out of place, especially as many leaves were 
still clinging to the beeches and the trees of more 
vigorous growth. But at 4 0 clock that afternoon 
the storm passed, leaving two inches of snow on 
the ground. With a clear cool atmosphere the 
mercury dropped. 
The next afternoon I came down an abandoned 
wooden track, formerly used to haul logs and 
which follows a swath four or five rods wide 
cut through the woods. At the foot of Ash 
Ridge I saw what at first appeared to be a man’s 
track, and I supposed that he had hunted along 
up the tram and had returned. But after I had 
taken a few more steps they disappeared. That 
aroused my suspicion. Broad toes and nail-like 
marks in front of them showed that a bear had 
passed that way. His broad feet pressed the 
snow to the leaves, so the water was squeezed 
out. “Most likely that bear is at the top of that 
ridge this minute,” thought I. Letting my pack 
slip to the ground, and taking a look at the old 
.45-90, I followed after. 
At once I became fascinated by the track. 
First it led through a thick clump of blackberry 
briers. He had broken scarcely one of the thorny 
stalks, although some of them were bent and 
thrust aside. It was interesting to note how little 
his body affected the position of the vines. 
■ Here he came to an opening under a couple of 
trees. The snow was melted, but the depressions 
in the soft damp leaves revealed his direction. 
Why did he, in one or two places, step merely 
on his toes? He did it once or twice also where 
the ground was covered with snow. It reminded 
one of the exuberance of energy in the athlete 
who steps on his toes through the mere joy of 
using his muscles. 
From the opening he arrived at some more 
briers. If he continued straight ahead he would 
have to go through these briers, but there at his 
left was an old path, a logging gutter. He turned 
a bit to the left and took the path. It was better 
walking. Along the gutter lay an old log, eigh¬ 
teen inches in diameter. The path beside it was 
badly obstructed, but if I had come to that bark- 
covered log lying right in my direction, would not 
I have stepped upon it for the sake of the out¬ 
look and the six yards of good walking? Of 
course I would, and so would the bear. He 
swung along it just as any knowing beast would 
do. 
The path led to a wide open road, a skidway, 
which was cleared of trees to the mountain top. 
It was excellent walking up that skidway, but it 
was in the open. If I had enemies I would 
choose the best walking so long as it was under 
cover, but I would not risk myself in any such 
road as that. Neither did the bear. He crossed 
it and took to the brier patch and the short sec¬ 
ond growth. I took to the road with some hopes 
of circling and coming on to him at the top of the 
hill. But on its crest I found the snow crusted 
And very noisy. That somewhat dashed my 
hopes, but they received a greater setback when 
I discovered the track. Here in the shade of 
the trees and on the northern slope the track 
was frozen hard. On the southern slope, where 
the snow was soft, they appeared fresh, but the 
frozen snow showed that they had been made 
the day before. Moreover, they were nearly cov¬ 
ered with leaves which were falling in clouds. 
Therefore, after following a bit further I re¬ 
turned to the tram. I was full of wonder at 
the manner in which bruin had chosen his way. 
On this account and in order to get a photo¬ 
graph of his trail, I followed his back track until 
I lost it. As I started from the road I saw how, 
here too, the bear’s mind had worked. Along 
the old road was a ditch six or seven feet broad 
with a large birch log lying in it. The bear had 
come to the ditch, and instead of going around 
as he might easily have done he jumped to the 
ADIRONDACK BEAR TRACK. 
log, walked along it a few steps, planted his four 
feet near together, and bending himself double 
at right angles to the log he leaped over to the 
tramway. An energetic man would have pre¬ 
ferred to do the same thing. 
But the supreme bit of bruin wisdom was re¬ 
vealed when he approached the open swath. He 
came with his usual length of stride to the top 
of a rise of ground which at that point flanks 
the old road. Here he slackened his pace as 
the shorter steps indicated. Probably he stopped 
once or twice in his (racks, but that was not 
fully evident. When he came to the very edge 
of the narrow chopping, although it is well grown 
up to briers and young hardwoods, his steps 
were shortened until he placed one foot ahead 
of the other at a distance of one inch. Thus the 
wise old brute crept along for about four yards. 
In imagination I saw his gray nose high in the 
air, sniffing the wind in careful uncertainty. Un¬ 
doubtedly he halted here more than once. At 
the end of these carefully taken steps he came 
to a little descent in the ground and down this 
lie walked with his ordinary length of stride. 
But at the foot of this he seemed to become sud¬ 
denly aware of his recklessness and once more, 
for about three yards, he carefully planted one 
foot just before the other. The extreme care 
with which he made these steps was apparent. 
Then he relaxed 'his intense attention and two 
more rods brought him to his jump across the 
ditch to the old wooden tram. 
In spite of his care, perhaps, the bear had a 
narrow escape. Just in view of the place where 
he had crossed the tram a trail branches from 
the wooden track. When I came to this trail 
there was a moccasin track which had been made 
the day before. It was remembered that on the 
previous day the snow fell until 4 o clock, and 
at 5 o’clock it began to freeze. Scattering flakes 
of snow in the man’s track made it evident that 
he had come to the tram just before it stopped 
snowing. No flakes in the bear track and no 
broken crust showed that the bear had crossed 
the tram but a short time after the man had 
turned at that point. Neither suspected that 
they came so near to meeting, but the old bear 
had guarded himself from just such a surprise. 
Eldridge A. Spears. 
New Publications. 
Camp and Trail. By Stewart Edward White. 
Illustrated; 236 pages. New York, 'l he 
Outing Publishing Company. $1.25 net. 
Few authors have earned more popular favor 
than Mr. White. His “Blazed Trail,” “The 
Forest,” “The Pass” and other books have met 
with deserved approval. And this latest one is 
the result of practical experience, in the woods, 
on the plains and in camp. He dwells on the 
value of the sense of direction and common 
sense in woods lovers, and points out the fact 
that while it is often essential to go light,, there 
is nothing so foqlish as to carry this to extremes 
when careful thought and preparation will en¬ 
able one to combine in a minimum of weight 
at least some comfort. t As in “The Forest, he 
again advocates the dividing of an outfit into 
three piles, comprising respectively those articles 
that are of daily use, those that are used occas- : 
ionally, and those not' used at all—discarding all 
but the first. 
In his references to personal outfits he says 
the man who goes through his woods life with 
his supply of matches in a bottle is lucky, and 
advocates instead a match box made of a i- 
gauge brass shell telescoped in a 10 gauge shell. 
This, however, like the excellent rubber-packed 
screw-top brass match box, will go to the hot 
tom if accidentally dropped overboard from .a 
canoe. One of these which we carried on a 
fishing trip lay in the mud at the bottom of a 
stream for a week. Not a drop of water en¬ 
tered. We ascertained this with joy; but th: 
falling of the stream alone enabled us to recover 
it. Fortunately another supply, in a paper box. 
enabled the party to make a fire meanwhile. Tin 
perfect pocket match box is hard to find. 
Mr. White deals with camp outfits, cooking 
arrangements, provisions, camp cookery, horses 
nudes, burros, canoes and outfits for each, ir 
pleasing fashion, clinching his arguments wit? 
personal anecdote and bits of experience. 
