A 
Seven Weeks’ 
Hunt 
in the 
Big Woods 
Ytelded— 


The writer with a fine buck she secured 

Two 
Deer, Two 
Bears, a 
Bobcat, a 
Red Fox and 
a Fisher 

Deer and Bear in Northern Maine 
AST fall I took my second hunt- 
L ing trip in the very northernmost 
part of Maine between Aroostook 
and Allegash waters. My camp was on 
Bluffer Pond and I had over a hundred | 
square miles of hunting territory to 
myself. To get to Bluffer it was nec- 
essary to go up the Aroostook River, 
camping one night on the way, then up 
Munsangan Stream to Munsangan 
Lake, where we rested for a couple of 
days before starting for Bluffer farther 
back in the wilderness. 
I have been up the river in a flood, 
when the guides could not find poling 
bottom, but this time there was mot 
enough water in the streams, as the 
guides say, “to grease the rocks.” The 
consequence was that I had to follow 
the trail while the canoes were dragged 
nearly the entire distance. I remained 
in the woods this time over seven weeks. 
My outfit consisted of my guide, who 
was a wonderful woodsman and hunter, 
and his sister, who was an excellent 
cook, with additional guides to take the 
cook up >to camp and bring the game 
out. At Bluffer, however, there re- 
mained only the three of us, and we 
saw not even a trapper or “lumber 
cruiser” while we were there. 
OUR camp was a cabin of spruce 
logs, built altogether with the ax. 
It was well stocked with canned goods 
and staple supplies. My husband, 
whose professional duties prevented 
his going with me, had made all nec- 
essary arrangements early in the sum- 
mer. For meat we had only the deer 
and ruffed grouse which I shot, for my 
By MRS. GEORGE SHIPLEY 
guide never carried a gun, but it was a 
good season for game and we seldom 
had to fall back on ham and bacon ex- 
cept from choice. 
What I went to Maine for was, of 
course, the deer shooting, and that is 
what I told my friends, but the real 
object of this trip was to get a bear. 
This was certainly an ambition, for 
every one knows that a sportsman may 
go to the woods for years without get- 
ting a shot at a bear or even seeing one. 
So I kept it to myself. On all previous 
hunts I had gotten my full quota 
of deer, and had little doubt of shoot- 
ing two bucks this year. I did get them, 
and one of them bore my record head; 
he was a fine ten-pointer with a 22 
inch spread of antlers. 
HIS deer I felt especially proud of 
as I shot him in a curious manner. 
My guide and I had hunted all day and 
had about given up hope, as the leaves 
were dry and noisy. We had stopped 
to rest late in the afternoon, when sud- 
denly in the stillness we heard a stick 
break and knew that a deer must be 
close by, although he was completely 
hidden. My guide gave a “blat” (as 
they call it) such as is made by a doe. 
At the sound, a handsome buck bounded 
into sight for an instant and stopped 
behind a thick screen of bushes a hun- 
dred yards away. I could not see any 
part of his body, but I could just make 
out the white outline of his splendid 
antlers. I aimed right back of where I 
thought the shoulder ought to be, and 
fired. The deer made another great 
leap—and was gone. We followed his 
track several hundred yards, still find- 
ing no blood, and feeling sure I had 
made a clean miss. But just as we 
were about to turn back, we saw him, 
a really noble buck, very grey, lying 
almost hidden behind a windfall. He 
was shot straight through the heart. 
But my bears are getting away from 
me! 
T was a good season for bears as 
beech nuts were plentiful. A hunter 
may get near enough for a shot if a 
bear has his nose down in the leaves 
digging for nuts, but it is a matter of 
luck, with the odds a hundred to one 
against you. So, to increase our chance 
we baited with deer meat in several 
likely spots, setting near the bait a 
small steel trap (ten pounds) with a 
very light stick of wood called a “clog” 
attached. This gives good sport and 
the bear a fair chance, though of course 
one prefers to get his bear (if he can) 
without bait or trap. 
We visited our traps faithfully for 
nearly three weeks, besides keeping a 
keen lookout for bear while we were 
deer hunting. For, as I’ve heard “Bill” 
Atkins, the famous hunter and pioneer 
of northern Maine say in his character- 
istic drawl, “Wall, you’re just as liable 
to get a bar when you’re deer huntin’, 
as you are to get a bar when you’re bar 
huntin’.” 
UT we saw no fresh bear signs and 
our bait was untouched. Then one 
morning, just after a light snowfall, 
we came upon the track of a big bear 
(Continued on page 56) 
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