second camp on Mud Pond by eight. 
Here I took my boat which I kept in 
the camp, and we paddled up through 
the two ponds, past the spot I had 
fallen through the ice in April. We 
landed and left the boat on the edge of 
a beaver meadow, and started across 
the burning to the little pond where 
the bear trap was set in the ledge. 
Bud had been with me on many previ- 
■ 
ous trips into the woods and had been 
tried in almost every kind of hardship, 
but she had never been on a trip so 
ripe with possibilities as this one. She 
was full of enthusiasm until the black 
flies started in on their job. I had 
blazed a trail, or rather a snowshoe 
trail, through the burning the previous 
winter, when fallen trees, logs, rocks 
and brush were kindly covered by a 
thick blanket of snow. Now, however, 
it was very much different, and every 
step ahead meant climbing up and 
over or else crawling down and under 
some obstruction. Bud stood the first 
mile well, but as we neared the trap, 
she lagged behind. I was growing 
expectant, as I was almost sure I had 
heard a faint roar when we had first 
left the boat, and unconsciously I 
quickened the pace. Bud trudged along 
behind, fighting flies which grew thick¬ 
er as the day grew warmer. 
The trap had been set at the head 
of a gully through which a small 
mountain stream trickled. As we 
came to the mouth of the gully, I was 
just climbing over a big birch top and 
looking up the little valley, I could see 
where I had set the trap, and imagined 
I could see the ground all torn up. I 
called back to Bud to hurry, and we 
went on as fast as we could. Drawing 
nearer, I could see that the bushes 
were all smashed down, the ground 
torn up for a radius of a hundred feet, 
and the two spruce trees were trimmed 
of their lower branches and bark. I 
could not see the bear any place, and 
a sickening feeling came over me that 
he had again freed himself. I could 
not wait to get up close to look the 
( ground over, and I am afraid I went 
ahead and left Bud behind alone, 
scrambling over rocks and logs. I 
pushed on ahead on the run, and 
rounding a big boulder, came suddenly 
on the largest black bear I have ever 
seen. He was laying in the brook, 
with his back to me, apparently very 
cool and comfortable. I called to Bud 
and she arrived in a few wild leaps, 
and quickly took out the camera. The 
bear was up on all fours now, fighting 
fiercely at the trap. I made two ex¬ 
posures with the kodak in one hand 
and gun in the other, and was about 
to take a third, when things began to 
happen. I was looking in the finder 
when Bud yelled, “shoot him!” and the 
big bear pulled the drag free and tore 
up the side hill like a whirlwind, mow¬ 
ing down all brush and briers in his 
way. Half way up the hill the drag 
snubbed a log, and I got a shot in 
behind the shoulder with the little car¬ 
bine. It might have been a mosquito 
bite for all the attention the bear paid. 
I wanted Bud to do the shooting so she 
could have “her” bear rug in our den 
before the fireplace, but when I turned 
to hand her the gun, she stood with her 
back to me, both hands over her ears. 
I heard her say something about 
chloroforming animals in traps, but the 
bear was very busy on the hillside and 
it took four more shots in the head to 
finish him. 
I never saw the flies as thick as they 
were around that bear the next two 
hours. There were literally millions. 
Black flies, punkies, “sceeters,” and 
above all, plain ordinary blue bottle 
flies. Bud made smudges, one on either 
side of me while I skinned out the 
trophy. It was a big male, in prime 
pelage, with glossy black soft hair 
almost three inches long, much bigger 
and in better fur than the first bear. 
He was so heavy I could hardly turn 
him over, and finally had to skin him 
right where he fell. He measured just 
74 inches from tip to tip—an unusual¬ 
ly fine specimen. 
We got back to the boat on the pond 
at noon. The hide and head were 
heavy, and it had turned extremely hot 
for so early in June, so by the time we 
got to the cabin at four o’clock, we 
were both ready for something to eat 
and a rest. Bud got lunch while I 
worked on the hide and skull. 
Hours of effort - walking through 
brush with the trophy had given me a 
tremendous appetite, and I surely did 
justice to that meal. Food always 
tastes one hundred per cent, better out 
doors than in, anyway. 
After a good warm supper, we 
closed the camp, shouldered our packs 
and crossed the carry to the lake where 
we had left the guide boat when we 
came in early that morning. The moon 
was just up and full, and we drifted 
around on the lake in the wonderful 
peaceful stillness of it all. It was hard 
to realize that we were only a short 
three hundred miles from New York 
City, and less than a hundred miles 
from the city of Utica. Not a ripple 
disturbed the placid surface of the 
water, and the only sound was the far- 
off hooting of a great owl and the 
sleepy call of a loon. 
I AUTOMATE I 
| POCKET LAMP 
I A Trouble light for real trouble. Generates own 
current and not dependent upon batteries. Stands 
rough usage; does not depreciate through lack 
of use. An ideal Christmas gift. Carry an 
AUTOMATE in the pocket of your car. Light 
weight, compact and sturdy. 
AUTOMATE (the original self-generating 
pocket lamp) generates its own electric 
} current through the easy movement of a . 
lever. Built with the scientific accuracy 
of a watch. No upkeep cost, no “fading 
out’’ in an emergency. Will last a life¬ 
time. 
New Sportsman Model with extra bulb in cap 
guaranteed. Sent by insured post, $6.50. 
ERNEST C. CHESWELL 
284 FERRY STREET MALDEN. MASS. | 
a— BWniiTTyimwraiimrn ii i i i winfl 
_— Po%ur 
[Best Bus Escape! 
jjJT What good are traps that allow your best catches 
to “wring-otf” ? 
Think how many escaped last year. Then you’ll 
realize the value of using the only traps that 
make “wring-offs” impossible. 
^ G|8B3* 
two Trigger 
traps 
—with TWO sets of jaws gripping both foot and body and 
holding the catch motionless without injuring the pelt. 
These traps do not have to be set to drown and there is 
no spring breakage. 
Sent direct if your dealer does not sell 
them. 65c each in less than dozen lots, 
or $7.00 a dozen in dozen lots and over 
in U. S. Transportation paid. 
Write for Free Folder. 
W. A. GIBBS & SON 
Dept. D-4 Chester, Pa. 
BREED SILVER FOXES 
For Large Profit* 
Monlhly Payments 
Arranged 
Get our special 
proposition 
SILVERPLUME 
FOXES, Inc. 
331 Metropolitan Bidg. 
Orange, N. J. 
SPECKLED 
BROOK TROUT 
HARRY W. KOCH 
371 Fulton St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
For banquet and home dinner table and for 
stocking streams. 
Get Our 
Catalogue 
American Awning 
& Ten! Co. 
236 State Street 
Boston, Mass. 
Page 729 
In writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. It will identify you. 
