774 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. 12, 1910. 
it to one side and it fell on the cat’s forearm, 
jerking the paw from the trap. The cat did not 
stop to thank me, but made for the cover a few 
yards away. Fred saw what happened and let 
Tiger loose. He ran to the trap, took the cat’s 
trail arid entered the swamp. Not having any idea 
the dog would overtake him, I went about re¬ 
setting the trap, but on hearing a muffled noise 
we both entered the swamp to find Tiger under 
a fallen tree holding the cat by the breast, the 
cat breathing his last. He must have stopped for 
a fight when he found the dog was after him, as 
he had not gone more than a hundred yards from 
the trap and was more than half that distance 
when the dog started. 
Another cat that was caught in the same man¬ 
ner was more fortunate. We had been belated 
through searching for a trap that had been car¬ 
ried away by an otter, and finding the otter se¬ 
curely held, were hustling to reach camp. It 
was dusk when we reached the river and yet we 
had more than a mile to go. We would not take 
time to hang new bait at the cat traps, saying 
the old were good enough when in a hurry. We 
crossed the river on a log high over the water, 
which flowed very rapidly. I was half way over 
when Tiger almost hurled me into the current 
in an attempt to go by. I gained my balance by 
taking hold of a twig overhead and pushed Tiger 
into the river instead. The current carried him 
down some little distance and he reached a bank 
so steep h,e could not land. The splash of the 
water and the barking of the dog were enough 
for a wildcat in a trap near by. With one bound 
he freed himself and in another instant was out 
of sight. We were pleased, as we did not care 
to carry him in addition to our already heavy 
burden. Tiger gained the bank too late, for the 
cat was gone. He started in pursuit, but came 
back an hour after we reached camp. Evidently 
he had not overtaken the cat, as he was not 
scratched. 
It had snowed all one afternoon and evening. 
By 9 o’clock about ten inches of snow had fallen. 
Then rain came, the snow settled, the wind 
shifted and it began to freeze. Our camp was a 
log cabin with a bark roof. It had been built 
three years, the wood was dry and the bark of 
the logs almost like powder. We had broken 
the door a few weeks before and had neglected 
to repair it. On this particular night the wind 
came in through the break, fanning the flames 
against the wall. I remarked to Fred that we 
were in danger of being burnt out, but he did 
not think so. 
We were awakened by a sudden burst of 
flames and sprang to our feet. Fred seized a 
two-quart pail of water and threw it against 
the wall, but it did not have the least effect, for 
the flames had already spread over the entire 
cabin, which was about ten feet by twelve. 
The river was about fifty yards distant. Fred 
ran for more water, taking an extra pail, "while 
I gathered a few articles—a gun, ammunition, 
watch, compass, pipe and tobacco, game bags and 
carryalls—and threw them out, then came out 
almost overcome by the smoke and heat. 
Fred had just returned with the water, but it 
did no good, for the roof was already falling 
in. Just then I thought of my hunting boots 
behind a log where they could not get the heat 
under ordinary circumstances. As I was in my 
stocking feet twenty miles from home, I thought 
it worth while to attempt to get them, so rushed 
into the flames, but could not recover them and 
came out with my hair and eyebrows scorched 
and my clothes on fire. Fred put the fire out by 
smothering it in his hands. 
The question was how was I to get home with 
only two pairs of woolen socks, one pair of 
blanket socks and no boots in three inches of 
snow that now had a sharp crust on it. 
We each had a canvas game bag, and after 
I had lashed one on each foot, we started on our 
tramp. 
It was then 3 o’clock. Our first camp was 
eight miles distant. Black clouds drifted across 
the moon at intervals, making it impossible to 
see five feet ahead, but we picked our way as 
best we could and reached camp and prepared 
breakfast, for which we had a good appetite. 
Later we broke camp and started on our twelve- 
mile journey, arriving home with less discom¬ 
fort than I had expected. The morning was 
cold, but my feet, inclosed in {heir game bags, 
were comfortable but rather awkward to handle. 
WRECKED ON LAKE ST. CROIX. 
That same spring while tending bear traps we 
came to Lake St. Croix, eleven and one-half 
miles long and three miles wide. We had to 
walk six miles to the head of the lake and six 
more back the other side with no traps to look, 
except at the head of the lake which we could 
pass on our way home. 
There were no boats nor canoes on the lake 
so we planned to build a raft to cross the lake, 
to save time as well as rest ourselves, as each 
had a bear skin besides our other luggage. 
We gathered on the shore a large log and six 
smaller ones. We had fetched some hay wire 
from a lumber camp and some boards to use as 
paddles. After supper we built our raft, but 
lacking enough wire we used some spruce roots 
to tie the logs together. 
Next morning a fine rain was falling and a 
gale blowing. Though the lake was a little 
rough we did not mind, but got an early start. 
There was a stiff breeze from the southwest, and 
as we shaped our course northwest, this wind 
was not in our favor. We could not make much 
headway rowing a heavy raft with two small 
pieces of board, and by 10 o’clock we were not 
more than half way across the lake with our 
craft going to pieces. The old hay wire would 
not withstand the working of the logs and at 
intervals would snap off from being bent back 
and forth so often. 
We could not hold our raft together any longer 
so let three of the smallest logs go, using the 
wire on them to secure the remaining logs. The 
spruce roots proved to be far better than the 
wire for this purpose, as not one of them broke. 
Our craft now being lighter we made better 
time, but were driven by the wind one mile down 
the lake and a half mile back toward the eastern 
shore. At 2 o'clock when we were about 200 
yards from shore, we went aground. The dogs 
made for the shore and we followed almost to 
our knees in the water which grew deeper until 
we were obliged to swim, and we reached shore 
almost exhausted with ourselves and our pro¬ 
visions wet and damaged. Had we walked 
around the lake four or five hours would fyave 
been saved. 
Trapping in Canada is fairly good. Fur is 
plentiful enough for a good trapper to earn a liv¬ 
ing, and he will be enjoying a healthy and de¬ 
lightful sport. A good supply of steel traps, a. 
gun and a camping outfit are about all one needs 
to start with. When trapping I used a shotgun 
almost entirely for shot and the round ball, and 
for large game they will do splendid work. If 
a person is going moose or deer hunting and has 
a good rifle, it is proper to take, but if going 
trapping a good shotgun is your best companion. 
Otter are cunning and have good noses, hence 
it is best not to go near otter traps when they 
do not need visiting, as otters are always on the 
alert and will smell your tracks if a week old. 
Steel traps are best for bear, but it is not al¬ 
ways safe to set them, as there is lots of travel¬ 
ing about the Canadian forest. A sign could be 
placed near the traps, but half of the people 
that travel the woods would probably not know 
what it meant. 
The trapper will meet with lots of pests such 
as the sportsman is not aware of. If a squirrel 
or a sparrow has been caught in a mink trap, 
the mink comes along and eats him, whereas he 
wou'd have been caught otherwise. A fox or 
a wildcat is lost by a rabbit being caught in the 
trap. The king of all pests is the skunk. There 
is nothing so annoying to the trapper. If a skunk 
is caught in a steel trap it is scented for the 
remainder of that season, and an otter will not 
go where the scent of the skunk exists. The 
skunk seems to prowl about otter slides and it 
is quite common to get them in otter traps and 
then there is small chance of taking otter that 
season. To remove the trap is useless, as they 
can smell the scent for six months after. 
My way of removing a skunk from an otter 
trap and avoid as much stench as possible is as 
follows: If I discover a skunk before he sees 
me, I conceal myself at close range, then with 
both barrels charged with heavy shot I fire into 
his neck and shoulders. This deprives him of 
power and kills him quicker than shooting in 
the head. Even if he is not killed instantly he 
is less likely to use his battery if he does not 
see or smell you. 
If the skunk discovers me first I try to make 
friends with him, and when he seems to begin 
to think I am a right good fellow, I give him 
a severe blow across the back of the tail with 
a stick, then take trap and skunk to the water 
and plunge them in. Drowning is accompanied 
by very little evil result, but at all times they are 
unpleasant to handle. W. K. Sims. 
The newspapers report the capture and fining 
of Philadelphia deer hunters who have violated 
the law in the Adirondacks. Last year it is said 
that these three men, one of whom owns a pre¬ 
serve in St. Lawrence county, were fined $150 
for hunting without non-resident licenses. The 
other day, according to the story, the party 
reached the railway station on their way to 
Philadelphia with three deer, the legal limit, and 
also three large trunks. The trunks excited the 
suspicions of a special game protector, who had 
them taken from the train. While two of the 
men went on, one of the party remained behind 
with the trunks, but did not open them, declar¬ 
ing that the two who had gone on ahead had the 
keys with them. The game protector broke the 
locks, and found that each trunk contained a 
deer, as well as considerable deer meat and a 
quantity of jerked venison. The trunks were 
accordingly seized, the man in whose charge they 
were confessed judgment in the sum of $400 and 
the venison was sold. 
