
After the spill—Curt surveying in despair the contents 
of the upset canoe 
Returning upstream with the prize on the way out of 
the woods 
Adirondack Deer Trails of 1908 
A Sonnyboy of Yesterday Delves into an Old Diary, 
and Tells of the Taking of a Choice Buck 
mer of 1908, when a large part of 
the Adirondacks were being de- 
vastated by forest fires, that this mem- 
orable day occurred. The hunting sea- 
son had been open for two weeks and 
now most of the large deer had shed 
their long red summer coat in exchange 
for the short blue coat of the early fall. 
I was down stream camping with 
father and two guides, John and Curt. 
We had come down on: Wednesday and 
expected to remain till Saturday after- 
noon. On the way down stream father 
took Curt and went ahead in the first 
canoe, leaving John and me to follow in 
a half hour with all the supplies and 
duffle. 
The reason for our waiting so long 
was to give father a chance to get 
ahead on the long winding stream in 
hope that he might get a shot at a 
buck, feeding on lily-pads in the 
stream. John and I had not paddled 
more than a mile down the stream be- 
fore we came around a bend upon a 
fine three-pronged buck feeding in the 
middle of the stream. We were very 
close to him, and although I was ter- 
ribly excited I managed to break his 
back the first shot. 
Although we had a pretty good load 
in the canoe we decided to pull the buck 
on top of the duffle and take him down 
| T was towards the close of the sum- 
By FREDERICK A. POTTER 
to camp, which was about three miles 
further on. The buck had fallen in 
about four feet of water, so John pad- 
dled the canoe up along side of him and 
we both stood up and started to pull 
him in over the side. He hung for a 
minute on the side of the canoe, and 
then came in with a rush, and John and 
I lost our balance and sat out back- 
wards into the water. The canoe tipped 
over and supplies and blankets went 
sailing down stream. 
We arrived at camp about five 
o’clock, wet but triumphant. Father 
was very kind and did not have much 
to say about wet blankets and spoiled 
grub. I think he was more pleased than 
I, if that were possible, over my good 
luck in getting a buck. I will never 
forget that night—blankets hanging up 
around the big open fire and clothes 
and bread steaming on the ground. 
HE following day John and I stayed 
in camp and got things settled, 
while father and Curt went out to a 
little pond about three miles distant. 
This pond was a wonderful place for 
deer and was seldom visited except 
once or twice a year, when it was not 
unusual to see as many as fifteen or 
twenty deer in a day. Father came 
home from this hunter’s paradise early 
in the afternoon without having fired a 
single shot. He looked disgusted and 
did not have much to say. I walked 
over to where Curt was sitting, taking 
off a pair of wet boots. ‘What’s up?” 
I said. ‘Father looks sort of down in 
the lip: did he miss one?”’ Curt seemed 
a little more talkative and said. “Well, 
a tell ye, the darned smoke was so thick 
up on the pond that it hurt his eyes, 
and I guess he got a little scairt. Any- 
how we didn’t see no deer so he said 
he was going back to camp.” ; 
WAS afraid father would break 
camp and go home on account of 
the forest fires, but I knew better than 
to say anything to him about it until 
after supper. Having eaten a good 
supper of soup, venison and baked po- 
tatoes, father began to feel better and 
so I ventured a question. “Did you see 
anything with horns on to-day, Dad?” 
“We only saw three small deer all day, 
sonny,” he replied. “The smoke was 
very thick up on the pond, in fact so 
thick that I could hardly see across the 
pond. I don’t think it will pay you to 
go up there to-morrow, but I will let 
you have Curt for the day and you can 
do as he thinks best.” 
I could hardly keep from yelling out 
loud, I was so tickled. I had akways 
wanted to go up to this pond about 
which I had heard so many wonderful 
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