^B <%@%m % vxsa ?mm. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Shelf a - UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. VSi ?* o w u (/) p— < w Sketches of Camp Life IX THE WII.DS OF The Aroostook Woods AROOSTOOK COUNTY, MAINE FISHING, CANOEING, CAMPING, SHOOTING AND TRAPPING BEING TRUE STORIES OF ACTUAL LIFE IN CAMP Written by Charles C. West ii DEDICATED TO MY OLD FRIEND THE WORTHY COMMODORE OF THE BIRCH-BARK FLEET WALTER MANSUR Trade Supplied by O , The New England News Company, Hoston, Mass. Copyright, 1S92 Chakles C. West, Houlton, Maine Boston Pkinted by A. T. Bliss & Co. in Milk Street 1S92 CONTENTS. Introduction ....... 5 The Ramble ...... 9 Our Pretty Evergreens . . . . .14 While on the way to Camp . . . . 17 A Profitable Outing ...... 23 Boys, you need not be Lost .... 27 Should the Hunter be Lost .... 30 Our Red Squirrels ..... 37 The Aroostook Sable ..... 40 The Aroostook Partridge .... 47 The Broad Barren ...... 59 The Aerial Blind ...... 72 The Rocky Bluff ...... S3 Joe and Cronie ...... S9 A Little Bear Hunt . . . . . 11S Trapping the Otter . . . . . 123 In the Velvet ....... 131 Looking for Antlers ..... 140 The Musojjash ....... 157 Down the Mattawamkeag .... 166 Deer Tracking ....... 1S0 Fishing through the Ice ..... 193 The Beaver ....... 20S On the Line of Traps . . . . . 219 Over the Trapping Line ..... 236 The Captain and Crew . . . . . 251 . _ _ *tr/ <,.._. - .(0?l.. BUCK AND DOE CARIBOU. INTRODUCTION. AROOSTOOK, the pride, the Eden of Maine, as beautiful a lake and forest country as the sun ever shone on. It is situated in the northern part of the State and is its largest county. If you were standing upon her mountains, the beau- tiful panorama thus presented to view might give you a slight idea of this- magmificient region. Rich valleys show them- selves, with the courses of their charming rivers and streams plainly seen. Chains of hills reaching away far as the eye can see. Vast acres of rich level and rolling lands lying between the ranges, well wooded and timbered, well watered by lake and stream, river, brook and spring. Here the toothsome trout are everywhere to be found, leaping in the sparkling waters. Here our large fine game come and go at every point and cove, casting their shadows upon the waters as they come down from the hills and through the valleys for a cool drink, and to feed upon the sweet and tender water- grasses. Aroostook, and glorious forests of Aroostook, of you, how little is as vet known. How little is as yet known of your rich acres, lying waiting to give health, wealth and happiness to the pioneer. How little is as yet known of your The Aroostook Woods. beautiful forests and waters, almost swarming with noble game and choice fish, the truly, real elysium of the sports- man. How few know of you, and, comparatively speaking, how very few from the busy cities will ever find time in their hurried lives to visit and look upon your prosperous towns, thriving villages, rich, productive farms, beautiful forests and lakes, and charming scenery. And now, of these lakes and streams, these fine old woods, of the game to be found here, of their habits, and of our manner of hunting and trapping them, I am going to tell you. For very many years a resident of Aroostook, I have spent much time in the fall and winter months in the big woods, because of its delightful scenery, healthy atmosphere, and the gratifying opportunity of observing the habits of the wild animals and birds. This constant association with nature in her virgin beauty, instead of creating the careless oblivion of surroundings usually born of familiarity, has increased my ardent love for the forest, lake and stream. Wait one moment, please. The boy looking over your shoulder must be answered. My ears have actually grown larger from eager listening for the game. I overheard his whispered remark, saying, "I wonder if he really does know all about the woods?" No, indeed ! and not but just a little bit, and should be only too happy to spend more than half the remaining years of my life in the wildwoods, enjoying its health-giving properties, watching and studying all its beautiful occupants. Writing a book is something I never before attempted or even thought of, and being well aware that one should learn his trade before he can or even should attempt to execute fine work, I shall strive to really interest you, and must beg that Introduction. you will excuse the rambling manner in which I place these outings before you. I shall endeavor to hold your attention by describing many actual huntings in which myself, with pleasant companions have been engaged. Excuse us then, if we did not succeed in killing large lions and fierce catamounts sufficient for a big story, and, if you please, we will not speak of the many poor shots we have made, neither need you be told of the chilly hours we have sat with cold feet waiting for a bite. Occasionally, we have kept a small diary, noting down a successful hunt, taking a few minutes of an outing when thinking it would be of interest and use to refer to, and from these we will glean something, hoping it will interest and perhaps help along those young sportsmen who have as yet had but little experience in the big woods. I shall write only from our own cruisings and campings, in the simplest manner, that' the youngest may understand it, depending as we have said, upon our own practice and observation, trust- ing and hoping it will find favor with those that love the wild woods. I have supposed that as you are reading this, you love the woods, with its hills and valleys, the rivers and brooks, the hunting and fishing, and are quick enough to follow me in this medley style of writing which I cannot seem to help. But as vou are to line a woodcock through the green leaves, having your eve upon the bird, or his line of flight, and not upon the gun alone, bringing him down and securing him, even thus I am expecting you to line me through these thick- ets, catching sight again when emerging from the tangle. It is not really intended in these writings to surprise the old trappers with new and novel ideas superior to their own, The Aroostook Woods. neither do Ave expect to thoroughly educate the new beginner in the trapper's art, though many useful hints are placed here- in before him as called to mind while penning these pages. In fact, one can scarcely tell you a tithe of it on paper. Books are written with trapping particularly in view, to which we would refer you should your taste for it be such as to hurry you to the haunts of the game when the frost comes. To succeed in trapping the many carnivorous animals that destroy so very many innocent lives to maintain their own, is simply to be interested therein. Then, ones ingenuity is applied, he studies their habits, notes where he is unsuccess- ful, remedies the fault or oversight, and outwits the game next time, and so on, continually bringing to bear his reason and intelligence, so superior to their instincts. But rather we wish to pen something of interest to all, and from our many excursions and campings for years back, we call to mind much that we fain would hope might read cheery to old and young. And for the boys and others who may be unable to visit the deep wildwoods with its ever charming attractions, we shall endeavor to picture and place before them much that will interest and make a leisure evening pass pleasantly at home, with a good portion of the dear old forest spread out before them. And now to the many, always charitable, among whom we hope we have many friends, and to those yet living with whom we have camped in long past years upon the ridges and beside the waters, some enfeebled, others far away, and the many home friends, and those jolly companions all in the heyday of their happy sporting time, to you all, we extend our kindest greetings. THE RAMBLE. WE usually prefer to get away to the woods about the first or second week in September. This gives us plenty of time before the shooting and trapping should commence, to straighten out the camps, provide sufficient hard wood for the whole campaign, repair and regulate our line of wooden and steel traps, and occasionally leaving along the line many a choice bite for the furry tribe to eat, therebv getting them interested and wonted to the path, but not baiting, or setting a trap, until the proper time arrives, when the fur has become prime, or very nearly so. In September and October, and often part of November the forest is in all its glory, and the days average very fine. November and December, with the frequent light falls of snow, bring their many advantages also, and by this time, the fine appetite, exercise and the pure bracing air of the forest has nicely fitted one to meet the coming colder days. For as you walk away over the snow, with springy step, upon the fresh tracks of the game, feeling so glorious in your renewed life from this free and happy roaming of the woods, you laugh at the cold, being animated by the best of spirits, full of life io The Aroostook Woods. and vigor, rejoicing in your ever-increasing strength and endurance. But now, 'tis in the mild September, and all is beautiful about the forest, lake and stream, while the dwellers in the woods are all most happy. The deer, the leaders of the droves, at this time are cruising on the summit of the ridges by themselves, proud, bold, and independent, while the mothers with the most of them two, occasionally three lambs each, are the happiest by themselves while she leads them to the cool springs in the warm days for their noonday drink, and at night to wade along the shores and nip the tops of the grasses growing above the waters, and at this season of the year particularly, finding everywhere an abundance of the finest food (and quantities to spare,) for themselves and their largest increase. And the Patridge, old mother P, now leaves the thrifty young yellow birch grove, with a grassy spot here and there all grown within a few years upon the old log landing, and leads her now very large babies down to the lake shore each day near noon-time, and as they stand all in a row upon the sandy shore beside the slightly rippled waters, moving their dainty little heads down and up quite irregularly, as they drink so cunningly, we count a dozen or more in place of the one pair in nesting time. But the old drummer, the father of the brood is not with them, as he has long since shirked all care or responsibility of the children, leaving dame P all the trouble as well as the great credit of raising and protecting the large family all by herself, whilst he has in the early infancy of the little ones sought out some cool and shady thicket to play the secluded hermit until beech-nut time. And right merry and happy are all the little wildwood birds, both old and young. Joyously they sing and call and The Ramble. ii answer one another as they are gaily flying back and forth, and alighting upon the branches amid the golden leaves. Well might we know 'twas in the mild Septc7nbei' — yet no mocking-bird sings his song in the Aroostook wilds. Ah ! we are wrong, for we do have one even here, the hardy Canada Jay, called also the moose bird, from the fact that in winter he is so often seen in company with and following the wanderings of our large game, the Moose and Caribou. He is much like his southern brother, the Mocking-bird, in size and plumage, and his whistling notes and varied tones remind one much of him as he sails gracefully from one tree to another among the jolly song-birds. This is his choice dwelling-place, here is his home with the monarch of the forest, the noble Aloose, and in the mild September they are sometimes seen coming out of the woods together. The monarch is occasionally seen for a few moments standing upon the hill in the settlers sunny clearing, his massive pro- portions showing to his very feet, between the earth and heavens with the clear sky for a background, his noble head thrown high in air, and his enormous w T ide spreading antlers laying far back over his shoulders, while his keen eye takes in the astonishing picture before him. And here too, is the home of that famous trotter the Cari- bou. These hardy fellows are here to-day in great numbers, and they roam the forests singly and alone, in pairs, and in droves at times. A beautiful sight it is to see a dozen or more of them in winter trotting by on the ice, which, if smooth and glassy, 'tis all the same to them, for their hard, sharp, wide spreading hoofs cut the ice like skates, and send the snowy spray far out behind them. 12 The Aroostook Woods. And we must remember the pretty red Deer notwithstand- ing some sportsmen in our neighboring cities are frequently scolding and worrying for fear our Deer are being extermi- nated. We think that now they are pretty well protected, so much so that as yet they abound, and in the fall are often seen wandering out in the clearings, all through Aroostook, and in the shooting season their juicy steaks, though fit to set before a king, are equally appetizing to the sportsman. And that fine game-bird, the Partridge, often spoken of and yet worthy of more praise, never was scarce with us. In the early shooting season this elegant bird is found in goodly flocks in many a sunny opening. They always winter well, often sleeping in the light snows on coldest nights. Well fed at all times, never hungry, for their favorite food in winter, the yellow birch buds are everywhere growing for them, always fresh for their picking, each and every day. The Ramble. 13 MOONLIGHT IN THE EVERGREENS. The voices in the wood are hushed, though zephers yet combine And sigh among the evergreens, and whisper in the pine; The snow is blown from off the trees where icy drops are seen Shining as the moon comes out like pearls upon the green. Though all is quiet in the glade, so white with crusted snow, High up in space before the moon the winds yet freely blow, While swiftly pass, clouds thin and white, and some of leaden hue By many a light, bright golden star in spots of azure blue. The silvery moon comes shining out almost as light as day, When leaden clouds chase off the light and hide it far away ; Then follows thin white gauzy clouds, and o'er her bright face sail As oft as breezes lift them off as light as bridal veil. Beside the trees all down the glade, the wavy shadows play, As now the moon bursts fully out and lightens up the way ; It beams upon the many drops now frozen on the trees Like diamonds, hanging from the buds and sparkling in the breeze. The last white cloud goes sailing by and disappears from view; The brightest stars come twinkling out from heaven's arch of blue; The heavenly orb lights up the glade, and brightens all the way, A little song-bird now awakes and sings " 'tis coming day/' OUR PRETTY EVERGREENS. OUR pretty evergreens, the fir tree in particular, we must often speak of in these pages, praise their beauty, boast about them and pronounce them, as they stand in the lovely sunshine just raising the tips of their branches to the gentle breeze, ever emitting a pleasant balmy fragrance on the air, to be glorious. So numerous everywhere ! and they lend a charm wherever seen. Growing by the roadside for long distances through the forest (which is usually more open behind them,) giving a nice shady drive in summer and shutting out the cold winds in winter. Changing the temper- ature much for the warmer on the roads, as they reflect so large a portion of the warmth which they receive from the sun shining upon them, down upon the traveller, until he turns toward them a grateful look of thanks, and a smiling recognition of their friendliness. When the roads have been repaired through the forest, we are often well pleased to see that the work has been superintended by one having the faculty of perception, and surely susceptible to an impression, from having left the beautiful evergreens intact, upon the north side of the road. Seeing their usefulness, beauty and Oi'K Pretty Evergreens. 15 warmth for the traveller; understanding them to be a benefit, rather than any detriment to the road bed. The tasteful evergreens add a cheerful look to the settler's home, giving him a warm sunny bordering around his clearing and a hand- some view where edging the hillside. Through the old openings, mixed in with the young second growth of hard woods of many varieties, the evergreens always attract a pleased attention, as they add to the beauty, and here again usually fringing and shading the roadside. Thev are scattered over the (occasional) hilly and rocky old pasture, from the smallest to the largest, singlv and in groups, and in thick clusters on the rugged rocky knoll. The older and taller growing in the centre, upon the summit, looking down over them all, that are each, as they grow, carrying their pretty cone-like shape from their base to the very last little bud at the top. Among the old growth in the forest many grow very tall, compared to these, and with large bodies at times, and these fir trees, instead of sporting Mich a wealth of thick branches encircling them from base to tip, have long smooth butts or boles, many fit for prime clear lumber. Yet again, the pretty cone-shaped ones are plenty in the forest wherever having a warm sunny chance, often by themselves, all through the glade and glen, and in the many natural openings, with the scattering hard wood trees, and the small ones three, four and five feet high often afford a shelter for the game (the rabbit and the partridge mostly). The snow falling thick upon them, the low down branches droop and their ends rest upon the ground, followed by all the others from above as the snow keeps falling damp and heavy upon them, one drooping down beside another, other- lapping down covering all the space between them, the many 1 6 The Aroostook Woods. thick fan-like boughs soon giving the game a tight, snowed over roof above them. And their snug shelter is very cosy inside, arched overhead and lined with evergreen fans, with a thick bed of leaves over the mossy ground. From these snug quarters "Bunny," the rabbit, hurriedly shies out and skips away lively as one approaches on snow-shoes, but only to describe a circle far around, as he returns to dig under again and complete his sleep, soon after our passing. And the partridge, after sitting in the sunshine high up in some thrifty yellow birch tree, and there filling his crop almost to bursting with the sweet buds, will often as the sun is about to say good-night, fly down and dive under to this friendly and well-known shelter. The evergreens have many friends and lovers, as they should, being so friendly to all. The birds seek the dark shade of their lower branches, often coming with drooping wings to escape the noon-day heat in summer ; while in win- ter they love the bright warmth of the south sunny branches The partridge if flushed in their vicinity, flies directly to them for safety, and his favorite roosting place is upon one of their branches, and if a windy night, very close to .the body of the tree upon its leeward side. The Canada Jay (the moose bird,) chooses them and the forks of their thick branches to hide away the overplus when the diligent scamp is stealing meat from the hunters. The Song-Sparrow's song is long and cheery when perched upon the topmost tip, as he calls, " Ah-te-te-te-teetity-te." The rabbit loves their dark shadows as he first skips out in the evening, and the deer if handy to them when receiving a shot, makes his first leaps in their direction for a cover, or to die under their shelter. WHILE ON THE WAY TO CAMP. A PAIR of Madamaska ponies, French all over, young, tough, and wiry, with lots of gimp, intelligent, brim- ful of fun, as wild as hawks at a yell, or as kind and steady as dogs the next moment when they hear your soothing tone of voice, had taken the bits between their teeth as they skipped over the hill and took the down grade just out of the village. " Shall I hold 'em up hard?" "Oh, no ! let them have their little run to the next rise. You couldn't get either off his feet with a lasso, and they will stop at your word. Just steady them, they are having lots of fun." The ponies are pulling a light but strong express wagon, well packed for a hunting and camping trip, over one of the old roads of Aroostook, and a sojourn at the camp in the forest beyond. The wide, roomy seat is well cushioned with robes and tanned skins of our own taking, upon which sits the captain ; beside him your humble servant is holding a briarwood pipe in one hand, an orono match in the other, waiting the slowdown of the ponies upon the next rise beyond. Everything that we think will be needed for the trip is on board. The spaniel sitting in front of us sniffs the air to right and left as we 1 8 The Aroostook Woods. bowl along, and looking far ahead and np in our faces, is eager to hear the words "Go find them." Should he chance to see a partridge by the roadside or get the scent of game too strong to contain himself, he will fairly beg for his liberty. We occasionally let him run and hunt the roadside, while passing slowly through long pieces of virgin forest, owned and held by the land proprietors for the stumpage, of which we remark to the captain sitting beside us: "These forests must be a regular mine of wealth to such as you, for while you are sleeping even, they are constantly growing, to be cut over again and again." To which he answers: "'Tis not all gold that glitters ! forest fires and many obstacles arise, that tend to tone down such bright visions of golden dollars." We pick up a few birds as we are driving slowly ; the horses being used to our shooting merely toss their heads at the firing so near them. We cross the bridge beneath which the white waters are rushing and hastening on their way down, down, never wait- ing on the way, always burning to reach the sea, coming at the first from but a small spring and little trickling stream from which we have often drank, far away in the heart of the forest. As we rise the hill beyond the bridge we haul up for dinner at the hotel, which is the half-way house on our journey. Horses nicely rubbed down, stabled and eating their oats, we proceed to the dining-hall and endeavor to be as handy as the most industrious. After dinner we are not really cheered with the outlook"; it is now quietly raining, with black indications of plenty more to come. We shingle our express wagon with the rubber blankets, harness in the ponies, on with rubber coats, draw well up the boot around us, and dash away for the last farmhouse on the road, "rain While On The Way To Camp. l 9 or shine." The showers are coming on as frequent as in the month of April, yet it runs off without enough wetting to do any damage or greatly annoy us. The spaniel retriever lying snugly covered, warm and dry, upon our feet, often expresses his gratitude by a comfortable yawn, as he is awakened now and then by an extra bounce of the springs. The ponies are just now getting a most thorough wetting, taking a bath that will clean them more thoroughly than human hands. They carry their heads as if not so highly elated as when starting in the morning, yet with a quiet resig- nation that suggests to us, they know it is all right, and not any imposition we would willingly have imposed upon them. At last as we are at our stopping-place for the night, the rain ceases entirely, the wind puffs around from another quarter, and the sun shows his bright face just before saying good-night, promising to be our company in the morning. As a new morning's light is gradually dispelling the gloom, it is soon beginning to show us a faint line of woodland in the east which seems growing away up to the skies ; and the first little silver ray from the sun that peeps in at our chamber window, finds us up and soon all ready for the hot steaming coffee which perhaps has awakened us. Leaving our supplies to be sent into camp late in the day over the old forest road, we shoulder our knapsacks, pick up our rifles, and followed by the now perfectly happy spaniel, step out briskly through the frosty air for the entrance to the wildwood, much preferring to walk the few miles on such a fine bracing morning. The sun, true to its promise, is just raising its cheerful face over the eastern hills, and the heavy frost first changes to water, then is soon drank up by its warm rays as it shines down upon us from over the tree tops. 20 The Aroostook Woods. And now, as we enter the sweet-smelling woods, its fragrance is wafted to us with every little puff of the breeze. The resinous woods, pine, fir, spruce, and cedar, with the birches and their leaves, the sugar maples and many others, are all contributing ; even the roots of many plants growing in the warm loose ground beneath our tread are sending up a spicy odor, a reminder that they also are no small part of the forest's sweetness. It is a most glorious day, as onward we walk over this carpet of leaves that have been smitten by the frosts, deluged by the rain, thrashed and blown to the ground by the winds, and all of the most beautiful shades, lying beside the rocks and mosses, all blending well together. The shadows from the trees above fall upon it all, with the sunlight shining in, softening the edges and fairly mellowing all the openings. If it is possible, we think we are made better by such scenes, such surroundings as these, and our hard hearts softened. And as we, with our packs and rifles mount the hills and stop a moment upon the summit to catch the breeze upon our warm faces, and see so far away and upon each hand, such wide expanse of green and golden forest, we are so cheered and refreshed at the prospect — and the breeze, that we seem to fairly bound with every step. The old, half-sick feeling hanging over us so much at home has left us entirely ; we felt the change, and missed it altogether just as we entered the dense wood. Our appetite, poor or indifferent at home, so much so that we often make our dear wives (dear to us now because so far away) miser- able, to find that after striving hard to please us by cooking some favorite dish, we, instead of being kindly thankful for their goodness, appeared so indifferent, at times even elevat- ing our eyebrows and with a sniff, ask, "be the pickles all While On The Way To Camp. :i gone?" And why is it that here it is so different? Here the appetite always comes back to us again as it was in boy- hood's days, when the smell of the toast, or newly ground buckwheat griddle cakes for instance, for supper, would make us run, leap, and fairly yell at the very first tinkle of the old tea bell. From the time you enter the perfumed forest, until your return, you can never tire of this fragrance. You breathe in long draughts of a health-giving; aroma, which never nause- ates. You may feel a little thirsty and this is all right, coming to one of the many clear running brooks, one does not wait for the dipper, but kneeling down upon a piece of bark, or upon the large prominent root of the birch, often beside the water, that seems to be growing just there on pur- pose for us, drink long and hearty, three times as much of the sparkling nectar as we would of the lime rock mixture at home. And this does not make one feel at all uncomforta- ble at such a time ; we travel on and soon the perspiration starts out upon us which is truly beneficial and promises us much toward a fine appetite, a clear head, and is a general improvement commenced. 'Tis just what we want ; we are never afraid of this, for we cannot take cold here if half careful. This perspiration, with the air brimful of natures medicines from the trees and roots, the sharp appetite gained by exertion, this pure spring brook water, free from every- thing but goodness, of which you will keep drinking more and more, and often, as you are passing the streams, does so much for one. It washes out and cleanses the system from all the vile concoctions that we might have been swallowing in the form of medicines, or brace-ups, which always prove to be brace-downs. " We ought to know." 22 The Aroostook Woods. You cannot stay at home boys, keeping late hours, working continually under cover in your offices and stores, excluding the sunlight for fear of fading your goods, become sick and run down, and receive any such benefit from the doctor or his medicines, as is to be found here. Here it is without money and without price, yet priceless ! And it is dealt out freely by a physician who knows well your case, whose beautiful advertisement is spread out so far and wide before us, over our heads and under our feet, so true, so convincing, that none will ever question it. If I thought I had tendencies toward consumption, I would begin this day to make a memoranda for the woods. For the deep, dense, and dark, the shoal, light and bright, the high and low, the level and rolling, the hill and valley of the wild, wild, wood. With its sunny hills and shady thickets, its lovely lakes and streams, and numberless beauties and interests, that no pen ever did, will, or can describe. And why must they strive to cut it all down? Oh, woodsmen! spare a few trees, here and there, for the seed to blow about in the fall time. " Camp Ahoy ! " A PROFITABLE OUTIiNG. YEARS past, a young man was told by his physician that he was consumptive and advised him to seek for a cure among the balmy trees in the forest. Writing for a trusty Indian he had often before hunted with, the Indian in due time came, finding the white man in his bed. Consulting together they formed their plans. The Indian got everything all ready in a day or two, and the young man being somewhat improved, the}' concluded to start for the woods. The mother feeling almost as if she was looking upon her boy for the last time, fearing he might never return to her again in life, bid him good-bye with a sad heart. Arriving at the end of their railroad journey at the foot of the lakes, the Indian took him in his strong arms and carried him the short distance to his canoe upon the lake shore. Now placing him in the centre of the birch bark canoe, with many wraps and a pillow for his comfort and ease, he packed the remain- ing space with all they could carry for comfort and use. Taking his paddle and seating himself in the stern upon the crossbar, the Indian now paddled him away up the lake,' of 2 4 The Aroostook Woods. which there were several to pass over before reaching their well-known camping ground at the head of a still water, and at the foot of the rips and falls, lying above. I should be pleased to give a further account of their move- ments during their long stay, but was not well informed of the particulars. They undoubtedly found plenty of fish and game, for at the time, and even to this day, there are plenty of .salmon-trout in the stream near where they were camping, and numerous deer, with small game, in the forest beside it. The Indian a good hunter and superior canoeman, was well- known to be trusty and faithful. Very late in the fall just before the lakes froze over, they returned, and at this time the white man remarked he could easily have carried the Indian had it been necessary. His consumption had ^ evapo- rated." I believe, that from the moment of starting from the lake shore, the Indian's patient began to improve. Out of the house and close rooms, under the clear blue sky, on the bright waters, everything is so changed. At the first dip of the paddle, as the birch bark canoe moved out upon the lake and he heard the merry slap of the waters against the sides, the Indian saw his eye brighten, and a better glow upon his cheek. The easy, soothing motion of the canoe, like a cradle as she danced over the waves, settling down so easily from a large one, rising again like a wild duck high upon the summit of the next, just as it breaks, sending its white spray in the air, but not to wet the patient, for the expert canoeman sees every large comber coming and with an extra pull with his paddle, sends her away by, or balances right upon the crest, when she settles down with it like a gull, to gaily rise again as before. A Profitable ( )uting. z '■> I believe that the change, he lying wrapped warm in an abundance of wraps and clothing, the blue sky over his head, the sunshine warm and bright upon him, breathing in the pure bracing air that fanned his wasted, but even now, warm, moist cheek, began to cheer and cure him. And the faithful Indian had much to do with this change. Sitting in the stern looking down upon him smilingly, as he plied his paddle, and with strong assurance telling him like this, "You no be sick any much, when we get little while in camp. Only very littleum time fore you go shootum deer once more, all lone." Reminding him of the speckled beauties at the mouth of the brook, just below the camp-ground, and of the three, four, and even five pound salmon-trout at the very door of the tent at the foot of the falls, and in the rips. Describing the many good dishes he should cook for him, all furnished from forest and stream. Those juicy steaks of venison, the salmon-trout broiled upon the coals, and roasted and smothered beneath them, retaining all its juices and flavor, the delicate soups from the venison, and the grouse, all about them, and, as he grows a little stronger, the more hearty smothers of venison, cooked long and slowly, tightly covered meanwhile, in the bake- kettle. The changing scenes in this forest life ; the faithfulness and watchful care of his staunch Indian friend ; his own love for this kind of life, would bring the strongest hopes to him and banish all despondency. The Indian's knowledge of, and aptness in preparing the many plants and roots for his drinks, his fragrant bough bed, with a warm fire at his feet day and night, so much to inter- est and cheer him through the day, his quiet, peaceful sleep from dark until the early morning's light, why should he not 26 The Aroostook Woods. continue to live on and tarry with us? And he did, through frequently journeying again and again to the depths of the health-giving wildwood, enjoying its many, many pleasing interests, and advantages, with the atmosphere fairly loaded with ozone, the consumptive's food. BOYS, YOU NEED NOT BE LOST. BOYS of little experience in travelling through the forest often say, like this : " I wish I could tramp the woods wherever I wish without getting astray." ' Now I think most any boy can soon learn to keep his course and be able to determine about where he is, if he will remember always to keep in mind the direction in which he is travelling. In the first place, you know that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. "We always know that." Exactly, but keep it in mind just the same. Every hour from its rising until its setting you can locate it, and knowing where the sun is. and remembering how you have been travelling, you will know where you are yourself. In the middle of the forenoon the sun is in the south-east (or near enough to answer your purpose) ; at noon in the south; middle of the afternoon, south-west; and when the sun shines brightly out, it is quite easy to keep in mind the course. Say for instance, you have travelled about two miles south, then two west ; you are south-west of your starting point; a north-east course will take you back. Perhaps after walking north-east awhile to get back, you find swamp or 2S The Aroostook Woods. hard travelling ; a course due east hits your outward track, and so it is all around the points of the compass. Getting lost comes mostly from getting excited about it. Always have your compass where it cannot be lost. After some practice and much observation you can determine almost at a glance, as the Indian does, which is north and south. (I refer to this in other pages). You learn to tell by the trees and their branches, the rocks and mosses. You can find where the sun is by the point of your knife- blade, held perpendicular upon your thumb nail. Twirl it slowly around and it is a dark day indeed when it will not east a slight shadow from the sun upon your nail. Then by consulting your watch you find vou are all right, after coollv thinking it all over. The best of woodsmen needs his com- pass on a dark da v. Hardly any one, but an Indian, gets along entirely without it. Even he has strayed before now, according to an old story, but would not admit it. When the white man met him and asked him if he were lost, he straight- ened up and answered, " Oh no ! Indian no lost, wigwam he lost sure." Often getting astray, I have found myself going exactly opposite to my right course. This I could not believe until referrring to the compass ; even then doubting if it could be correct or was working right. But remember, if a fairly good one, it is always right, and we must always go by its pointing even though it seems all wrong according to our judgment. Again we would say, keep your reckoning and you need not be far astray. You are not often far away from the woods- man's axe and old lumber roads, though they may be well grown up again, you can yet trace them. You come to some small brook ; this runs to a larger, usually, then to river or Boys, You Need Not Bi<: Afraid. 29 ^ __ » lake. On the okl lumber operations, notice this, that very few logs are ever hauled up hill. See the scarf upon the stump, li the tree fell that way," you say. Exactly, and there are some remains of the top to prove it. Now they twitched it out over this short branch road, or path like, to the main road ; then it was loaded on the sled and went down the road to landing on lake or river, perhaps right by the camp door. From here you can find their tote, or supply road, which you will recognize after following a little way. It is quite different from the logging road which must be wide, well cleaned out, free from stumps, usually straight, pretty level or down grade, in order to haul such large loads of logs as they always do. The supply road is narrow, perhaps running up and down hills and over humpy cradle knowls, in many places crooks and quick turns. Often in its turns a tree is left that should have been cut out, now showing many a rub from the whip- pletrees in passing. Nearly always grown up in many places to grass and clover, with a scattering bunch of oats, all of which take root and grow from scattering seeds, falling from loads of provender hauled to the camp. This leads you eventually to the main travelled highway. SHOULD THE HUNTER GET LOST? WHAT proud monarch is happier than the hunter, with his sure rifle, tramping his familiar hunting grounds where he knows every hill, lake and stream, his rifle always carried at easy rest beneath his arm, as he quietly threads his way through, to him, the well-known woods by the haunts of the game. It is no place for his rifle resting over his shoulder, for that and two arms in the air makes three, as he jerks it down for a shot, and the deer jumps quickly away, as he sees these motions. His light hunting axe hung with strap and case over his shoulder, dry matches in a water-tight safe or glass vial in pocket. In his knapsack, which need not be heavily loaded, a firm blanket, always a small quan- tity of salt and pepper, and perhaps a piece of dried venison, a small piece of pork, some pilot bread, or home-made, a little tea and sugar, and a pint dipper, but this not to be carried where it will glisten in the sun. A good servicable pocket knife with the proper formed blade for skinning. Of course he can carry a big bowie, but every useless extra, adds its weight. Always his sure working compass, and one that opens and shuts easily, for at times he must look at it often, Should The Hunter Get Lost. 31 when the sun is obscured, must even hold it in his hand when the snow is falling in flakes the size of a ten cent piece, or he may not keep his course. Now boys, catch a quick sight as I fly out of tangle number one, through a little clearer space, and I will try and tell you how one could do if he should miss his way in the woods, and be too late to find a shelter for the night. Suppose the hunter is lost. No, not lost, for a fairly good woodsman never gets entirely lost with his compass by him. We will suppose he is strayed and cannot make his way to the home camp, or point of destination, by the remaining daylight. Night is coming and he must camp. Now this is not a diffi- cult job at all for a well, healthy fellow, rather a bit of inter- est to be added to his trampings ; and well and healthy he should be and surely is, if he has been in the forest a few days, for here we regain health and jolly spirits very quickly, cannot help doing so ; in fact, we hardly ever take a cold while in the woods. Finding he has but little time, he should not press on with uncertainty before him ; and he need not get the least excited, for he is all right. How is the wind? North-west and a little colder than pleasant. He goes back a piece to the brook he just crossed, selects the south side of a small rocky bluff, backed by a thicket of evergreens and small spruce, and chooses this for a camping chance. There is plenty of hard wood growing near, mixed with spruce and fir, and handy by, lies an old down pine, resting upon the bed pieces. It is dry and pitchy from years of sunshine, large slabs of thick bark that have fallen off it, lying beneath. It was cut and con- demned for some slight fault by some hardy lumberman, long, long ago, who now lies mouldering in his grave. Seeing OS w H X h O H-J Should The Hunter Get Lost. 33 this, he stands in reverie, but he should not, as he wants every moment of the remaining light to prepare for his camping. A partridge over his head now begins to scold him for intruding upon her feeding ground, when he quickly raises his rifle, steadying the barrel against a tree (our old critic could have done it off-hand) ; the leaden messenger takes off his head, which falls with, and close beside the quivering bird upon the ground. In two moments this is skinned, dressed, cleansed in the brook and hanging upon a limb. At the foot of the large yellow birch tree upon which the grouse was feeding, large bare prominent roots reach out from the birch to right and left, forming a natural fire place, the tree conducting upwards most of the smoke, serving as a very nice chimney. Seeing this he cuts a small beech, gets two pieces from it for stakes, drives them close beside and outside of the two roots, giving him a good resting place for his fore-sticks. He now cuts wood for the fire, maple and birch, with a few good sized sticks to burn till morning ; chips off all loose bark from his large birch chimney high as he can reach with his axe, for kindlings, and to prevent their burning and dropping down upon him. He has now a stock of wood ; should he need more he must get it by firelight or torch. But as yet he needs no fire, his coat is off hanging upon a branch, the perspiration is out upon his brow ; he stops a moment and turns his face to catch a little of the cool north-wester, which now and again puffs over the higher land, and he smiles to think it's all right and he is soon to have a good chance for the night. A spruce six or eight inches at the bottom is cut down, the thick growth of branches are trimmed off and thrown in a heap. Thinking more boughs would be nice, another spruce is sacrificed and its branches added. Next he 34 The Aroostook Woods. cuts from the spruce number one, it being the larger, his fore- sticks and back logs. From spruce number two, he cuts about fourteen feet from off the large end, raises the smaller end to rest securely against his chimney, six or seven feet high from and over his fire place, the large end resting upon the ground to windward, near the rocky bluff. This is ridge pole, rafters and frame. Now if any snow is upon the ground he cleans it out, using his snow-shoe for a shovel, handled by the toe strap and the trail end. If deep and crusty he may tramp it down level and solid with the snow-shoes upon his feet. If bark is handy, he lays in a dry flooring and covers it with the small boughs of fir, always to be found. He will now shingle his roof by taking the largest spruce limbs at the first. He com- mences a few feet from his fire place and hangs them on each side of his ridge pole, the thick, close ends resting upon the ground, so enclosing his oven shaped camp. Then the smaller shingled on over these, and had he the time, could add enough in this manner to shed the rain. Consulting his watch he finds it is just fifty-nine minutes since he stood quietly thinking beside the old pine log. It is getting near dark. After his supper he will be up and about, picking up handy by-wood, occasionally eyeing his temporary home with much satisfaction. He puts on his coat for a moment, now his hurry is over, lights his fire, and soon the large birch tree adds its share of heat, which, if a cold night, is an advantage, as it throws the heat directly in his camp. Placing a seat by the fire, he opens his knapsack, lays aside his blanket (w r hich was packed next his shoulders) spreads his luncheon out upon his snow-shoes or a piece of bark, fills his dipper from the brook, adds a little tea and places it upon the coals to steep, Should The Hunter Get Lost. 35 cuts a suitable stick with a crotch or fork at the end, upon which he impales his grouse, salted and peppered, with a piece of pork hanging over it, then pushes the end of this stick obliquely into the ground, just right for his bird to come over the coals, and supports it by another forked stick in its centre. This soon fills the air with a most appetizing flavor. His tea coming to a boil, is set back a little. Soon his broiled par- tridge is being cooked and browned to a turn. His appetite by this time is fine, and though in the deep forest alone, he has had no chance or thought of being lonely, and makes a hearty supper ; and then, as some would, for it adds to the cheeriness, he lights his pipe and with a real contented laugh, says: "who's lost?" The large gray owl sitting upon a dead branch just across the brook, startles him by immediate- ly answering : u Whoo ! ho-ho-o-o-o." After a good smoke and a look around his cosy camp, he replenishes his fire, adding the large sticks, packs up the remains of his repast, takes his snow-shoes and a bunch of boughs for a pillow, wraps snug in his blanket, and is soon sleeping warm and comfortable. He has no wild animals to fear in the Aroostook wilds ; they may tell their wild stories of being chased and only escaping by some lucky chance, but it somehow seems a mistake we think, the animals all run much too fast the other way. If in the night it snows, then warmer grows his camp. Should it rain and put out his fire during his sleep and he has provided nothing for a torch, he takes a small piece of pork an inch or so square and as long as his finger, makes a hole through the skin with the point of his knife to receive a cane- like stick sharpened at each end, for a handle, then splits the fat meat across the centre, half way down, again across the 36 The Aroostook Woods. other way the same, giving him a candle with four wicks. This he succeeds in lighting with match number three or four, and proceeds to the dry pine, or a leaning cedar, from the under side of which he gets dry kindlings and will soon be warm again. If a jolly smoker, he again lights his pipe, which under such circumstances seems most companionable, and then with his fire brightly blazing, cheers him up once more. Next morning, most likely, he has the bright sun- shine, if not, his trusty compass will lead him to camp and a good breakfast. OUR RED SQUIRRELS. WHERE is the boy that does not love the jolly little red squirrel? He is not to be found, for his frisky play- fulness brings the smile to every face. Full of life, fun and frolic, they cheer us with their happy chatter from sun up in the morning, until it leaves them at evening, in the darkening shadows, when they quickly run away to their warm nests, to sleep until the new day brings them joyously out again. He is a hardy little fellow, always in good condition, and in the very best of spirits, sleek and glossy, as he sits upon a stump with his pretty tail curled over his back, holding his spruce cone in his little hands while he nibbles off the outside, which he throws away with quick jerks of his head, to the right and left, showing intense satisfaction, as he eats the inner part he loves. Below, beside the stump, you may see a small round hole in the snow, which he is always careful not to have large enough for an enemy, but just the size for his own small body to pass up and down, from which he brings out his cones, to eat them in the warm sunshine. He has a goodly store, nicely housed, laid in during the fall, gathered at the proper 38 The Aroostook Woods. time from the always abundant harvest. The ground never freezes to trouble him in the deep wood beneath the snows, and in the early fall he digs down far enough to be below the cold and all danger of frost ; then under the stump which is his roof he makes his nest, lining it with the finest silver gray birch bark, while all around him in little avenues is stored his winter supply of cones, hazel and beech nuts, maple seeds, etc. He is such a busy worker all through the pleasant fall weather that no doubt he hides away more than he can pos- sibly eat during the cold months, yet he is out often, just the same, getting his dinner from the tops of the spruces, in the sunny days. During the coldest dark weather, you hardly see him out of his warm nest, but as soon as the sun shines warm again he is quickly in sight, his cheeks distended with beech nuts, or a cone between his teeth, which he likes to eat in the sunshine. The forests are full of them, wherever you go, and every few steps you take when passing over the knolls, through the thick spruces, you are greeted anew, and again, as they see you coming, with half angry barks, and their happy laughing chatter as they dart away to a hiding-place to re-appear in a half moment after you have passed, sending after you their loudest jolly jingling chatter. Sitting with the captain one day during the last of the Indian summer watching a favorite crossing for the deer, we were most sure we heard a deer or caribou walking toward us, but it proved to be this merry little fellow, upon the top of a spruce tree, gathering his supply of cones for winter use. He was jumping from one branch to another, biting off the nearly ripe cones, and getting one between his teeth, he invariably tossed it over his head far out beyond the larger limbs, and the cones falling in quick succession upon the leaves, easily deceived us. We Our Red Squirrels. 39 watched his busy motions with much interest until a cloud passed over the sun, and a few drops of rain came pattering down upon the leaves, when he quickly scampered down, and seizing a large cone, ran lively for his dry nest. He is an ardent lover of the sunshine, and often when it leaves him in the cold shadows, he will dart away for his nest, or hug closer to the body of his tree, as he sits on a limb on the lee- ward side, without making a sound, waiting the re-appearance of the sun when he immediately bursts forth anew, chattering loud and long in his happiness. THE AROOSTOOK SABLE. THIS beautiful furred little villian, when seen at his best in mid-winter, when his fur is prime, long, dark and rich, when he is skipping about over the pure white crusted snow, in and out among the evergreens, is a beauty indeed. No one can see, but to admire him, for his elegant appearance, great activity and swift, easy motions. The length of his bounds when leaping away, at being quickly surprised, are astonishing for such a small fellow, and his movements are as light and easy as those of a bird. Yet he is a veritable rascal, this same beautiful scamp, and as cruel and bloodthirstv as any that range the forest. His favorite food in summer is the young birds and rabbits, of which he will a 7 *vays get a large share, and he plays sad havoc with the young partridges. In winter the squirrels and full grown rabbits make him many a supper. Mice are to be had at any time, but he pays but little attention to them unless very hungry, leaving them mostly for foxy and the weazels. He is trapped in winter and spring for his fine fur, and is easily enticed to the steel trap, or wooden dead fall, baited with squirrel or partridge meat, which he scents a long way, and scarce ever goes by The Aroostook Sable. 4 1 without giving it a bite. Running his head in at the entrance of the dead fall prepared for him, he reaches far back and seizes the bait always wishing to run away with it before eating. But finding it securely tied with a strip of the inner bark of cedar to the end of the spindle, he braces his stout little legs under him, takes a fresh grip of the meat, and pulls this time to get it, when down comes the fall piece across his neck or shoulders, which is loaded with sufficient logs to hold him, and his breath lasts him but a moment. Here the hunter finds him when next visiting his traps, as scarcely ever does any animal eat the sable. We have sometimes felt a little "sorry on it," (as the Indian says) for the killing of some animals, particularly a female deer, but have never wasted much sympathy upon the sable, knowing him to be most pitilessly cruel himself, to prove wdiich, we will tell you something of him from observation. A companion and myself w r ere going over our traps one drizzly morning in winter, after a changeable day and night of raining and freezing, giving us on this morning a good crust upon the deep snow for snow-shoeing. We remember it was the first for the season, and although the heavy mist was yet falling and dripping from the trees, we felt that we must get out in the roads and try the crust, for a slight rain or snow storm hardly ever kept us in camp in those days. Only pitiless old Boreas, with his sharp bitings, could drive us from the ridges. We had just passed over a small rise of land and were walking by the edge of a swamp, when my friend, who seldom forgets his meerschaum, but sometimes forgets he carries a gun, sings out : u Oh ! Oh ! look at him, look at him !" A rabbit, which here in Aroostook are so large that they might almost be called hare, came bounding 42 The Aroostook Woods. toward us, much as if for protection, then circled away again, and on, beside the swamp. He was the sorriest looking specimen of his kind we ever saw, which was owing to his long race in the drizzle, as wet as if he had been soaked for days, and so thin that he looked the ghost of one, when dry. He was taking his best leaps for his life, for close behind him came little "Mr. Sable," taking easy, graceful bounds, looking as dry and smooth as if just out of his nest, taking the race as cool as if he already had him killed, which he knew he surely would have, shortly. As the rabbit ran to us and shied away again, the sable gained on him by keeping straight on, without shortening his leaps as he turned his eye on us, and both were soon out of sight. As they both passed within easy shooting distance, I remarked, "Why didn't you shoot him ? " " Shoot what ? " " Why, the sable of course ? " "Gracious! I didn't know I had the gun. Oh, wasn't that sable a beauty ! " We have all been as interested at some time in our lives, and did not think to shoot in time. And then a chance like this but seldom offers, as this kind of rabbit hounding by the sable is mostly during moonlight nights and very early in the mornings. You may be sure he had poor bunny nearly tired out, and doubtless as soon as they reached thick growth and the rabbit tried a side dodge, he was out-generaled and pounced upon by a few quicker long leaps, when the timid victim, with a few pitiful cries would yield up his life at once, as they do not show the least fight with this enemy. Like the greyhound, he, the sable, runs on sight, keeping handy to his prey, but if he misses seeing it for a moment, his nose is to the ground, like a foxhound, when he quickly finds the track and is again soon in sight, seeming in no great hurry to The Aroostook Sable. 43 end the chase, but rather enjoying it, and bunny's wild frantic bouncing, toward the last, as the distance grows less between them, and the rabbit is near exhausted. Our worthy commodore "of the birch-bark squadron," once witnessed a comical scene, while a sable was chasing a rabbit, when a partridge saved a rabbit's life. He was out early one morning, after a light fall of snow, still hunting for a deer. When but a little way from camp as he stood leaning beside a tree watching the woodland o'er for a moment, a rabbit came jumping by him, and a sable close behind. Neither noticed the commodore as they passed him, and near at hand, as the rabbit was jumping between some low fir bushes which were half snowed under, he was struck under- neath by a fluttering partridge, which he had frightened out of his snow bed. The partridge (thinking no doubt but that reynard was after him again,) was kicked back by the rabbit, as the rabbit tumbled over in the snow with a piteous cry, sure that the sable had him at last ; but finding his legs, he quickly disappeared, jumping high and dodging wide, as the frightened partridge whirred past him. The astonished sable disgusted at this new phase of the hunt, stopped sudden- ly, then turned on his back track, and was just leaping out of sight as the commodore turned to look for him. Sleeping rather late one quiet morning in camp, we were awakened by plaintive cries, quite loud at first, but soon sub- siding and ending. This we knew to be poor bunny, and that he was being killed by the fisher, fox, or sable. Getting up quietly, we took down the shotgun, and slipped into it a cartridge of buckshot, hoping the murderer might prove t>> be the indian devil (little panther, or cougar,) said to be occasionally on this range at this season, and crept out to the 44 The Aroostook Woods. corner of the camp where we knew by the sounds the murder was being committed. Moving carefully we were not heard. About twenty yards away, at the corner of the old hovel, among a patch of elder bushes, a pretty young sable was sucking the blood from the throat of a rabbit. We stood very still, hid- den, watching the scene. Having drank of his blood until his sides puffed out, he seized him by the neck and was pulling him away to where he would be hidden, when he would come again at night and make a full supper of him. But the elder stems grew too thick for him to do this, just in that direction, for as he backed and jerked the rabbit to him, it brought up against the shoulders between the stout elders that grew just right to trouble him. It was amusing to see his angry motions ; he would seize him by the throat, spring backward and tumble over, then up and try it again, but Bunny would not come. During this time, we held the gun in readiness, meaning to be his judge, jury, and executioner, but he was so smart and prettv, with a bright orange spot under his throat, that gradually, we weakened, and finally concluded he should live (" to get pi'ime.'" ') About this time as he was giving angry jerks to right and left, it was so comical to see him brace and try, that we had to laugh, when quick as lightning, his eye was on us, and in an instant, he bounded away. We secured the rabbit, which was a nice fat one. A bite upon the shoulder showed where he had first caught on to him, and the mark under his throat from which he had sucked his blood, were the only wounds. The rabbit was nice for food, and had been well bled in the proper place, so thanking him for providing a dinner for us, we hung it in the cool corner of the camp porch with a bunch of partridges. The Aroostook Sable. 4c; Next morning at daybreak, we were again awakened by a slight noise, this time in the porch, and creeping to the window, we looked out and saw the same little cut-throat with the bright orange mark, making sad havoc with our birds. He had been there sometime, as he had the rabbit and part- ridges down upon the ground and was having lots of fun, up to his back in game and feathers. He ignored his own catch and had sadly torn our birds. Again we reached down the shot-gun, this time meaning death to the destroyer. Loading with duck-shot, we softly opened the door, when he instantly took the hint and was making long leaps for a leaning birch. As he reached the tree, the duck-shot overtook him, killing him instantly. A day or two after, upon the old hovel, and near- ly over the same spot where he committed the murder, he was hung beside his victim, in front of a back ground of newly peeled white birch-bark, occupying the most prominent place over a bunch of partridges, with a saddle of venison and a hand- some string of trout beneath, when all were photographed by the Doctor. THE OLD AROOSTCOK RO.AD. THE AROOSTOOK PARTRIDGE. W HERE is the sportsman that fails to enthuse over this magnificient game-bird? To begin with he is as handsome as a bird can be. "How so! with no bright plumage?" " 'Tis even so! without the bright plumage." We will leave the bright and gaudy, for the birds we do not eat, for we want it not upon our superb drummer partridge. And he is so numerous all over our Aroostook wilds, that you may find him almost anywhere you roam. And if, when on a tramp through our forests, wishing for a delicious broil, you should hardly be disappointed, for, from the first farm, or clearing, to the limit of your travel, he is ever to be seen. Often in the old logging roads ; even in the dense swamps, at the foot of the ridges, on the top of them, over the cant of the same, getting a drink from his favorite brook perhaps, where you may find him always, in the driest weather, and during a drought he scarcely leaves the cool shaded brookside he loves so well. Handy to the sunny ridges, handy to the brook, and the thick evergreen swamp wherein he loves to roost. At a certain time in the fall, the flock hardly leaves the swamps, finding at this season of the year the food they like 4S The Aroostook Woods. in abundance. But heavy frosts coming, such food becomes withered, sour and unpalatable, and again they show them- selves across the brook upon the ridge. Birch buds constitute their principal food in winter, and they seem to be the proper thing, as we scarce hear of the birds being in a poor condi- tion. On the south side of the ridge, usually handy to the brook, and likely on the knoll, instinct teaching her the spot is dry, is where she builds her nest. Often in a sly chance, and occasionally, but not very often, are they discovered. We remember seeing one with a tight roof. The bark peel- ers had left a sheet of bark behind them, one end lay upon the log it came from, the other resting upon the ground. This was so cosy, such a complete shelter, that lady P took the chance. She had lined it with soft, wild grasses at the first and would add many of her abundant feathers towards the last. If nothing prevented, she would have a nest brimful of pretty white eggs, that are beautiful to look in upon. How she hates to have you find the nest, and more especially if her little chicks are just hatched out. She is brave for a fisdit, but first uses stratesrv to lead you off. Her feathers are ruffled forward, and with head down, tail spread out, wings dragging, she plays lame or wounded, as if saving Come now ! Come on, you can easily catch me ! which is only to entice you from her nest ; and if not succeeding in drawing you away from her brood, grows furiously wild, if an old one, that has had the care of several broods of babies ; every feather is raised in anger against you ; full of courage now, and at the risk of her life she flies directly at you, as if she would like to peck out your eves, trying hard to take your attention wholly from her brood. These pretty little velvety baby birds, often seen when no The Aroostook Partridge. 49 larger than sparrows, so smart and quick, if only a few hours old, even with a portion of the shell yet sticking to the backs of two or three, are gone the moment you see them. The mother knowing she has given them time to hide away, makes a final dart at your face ; you close your eyes as you make a slap at her for her impudence, but she is gone. She is sail- ing off as if to fly far away, but watch her ! she settles down a little among the trees and bushes, sw r eeps around back, flving low down, and lights upon the ground behind the bushes and but a little piece from her hidden chicks, to wait and watch you between the leaves. You now move away as if hiding from her and where you can view the ground. You are quiet, and presently you see a leaf tip up, a little raised head is seen peeping out from under ; that is one of the cun- ning chicks ; it thinks itself hidden if only its head is under a leaf though the body is all exposed. How still it keeps ; not a movement except raising its head and listening. Look- ing keenly you see several heads sticking up, not one moving, but all listening, their bright eyes all seem turned in one and the right direction. In a moment or two, the mother as she hears nothing of you, commences calling softly, "pletes" — "pletes" — "pletes," when immediately they are all running straight to the sound, and are soon huddled beneath the moth- er's wings. At this time, when the little ones can scarcely fly, they get over the ground surprisingly quick, their small apology fpr wings aiding their legs, and their pursuers must be keen sighted to see where they hide. They have many an enemy as they are a very choice bite. The weazel, mink, sable, fisher, owl, the hawk, and others have an eye on them, yet the mother is constantly on the watch, protecting them if 50 The Aroostook Woods. possible, though she lose her life. At the first sight of an intruder, if knowing her family is discovered, she flies direct- ly at the enemy, at the same time giving the chicks warning to hide themselves. Feeding much upon yellow birch buds, after heavy frosts come, and usually they are budding in pairs, as they have now mated, yet we sometimes see a dozen or more feeding upon the same tree, and think it a pretty sight. The trees are usually tall and at this time leafless. The buds grow thrifty and thick upon the upper and outer branches and twigs. The birds sitting distributed all about the tree, quite little distances from each other, the small branches gently swaying and rocking with their weight, the birds so plainly outlined, all busy as bees, until their crops are nearly full, taking no notice of you if you are quiet, give us, all free, one of the many interesting pictures (and a live one) to be seen in the snowy woods in winter. But after the first heavy frosts come and the beech nuts are ripe, they are happy indeed. By this time they have made their love engagements with each other in their own pretty way. The oldest drummer has selected the prettiest and youngest pullet he can find, and now leads her to the south side of the high sunny ridge where he knows (and tells her truly, always,) the sweetest beech nuts grow. The birds get in their best condition upon this food, and, if it were possible, the flavor of the broil is improved. We left a dozen or fifteen pretty little chicks behind, that we wish to speak of again, and should like to say how nature had colored, or painted them, but fail to do them justice when we say, they were a light golden and orange brown, beautifully mottled, and richly shaded. But now they are The Aroostook Partridge. =;i full as large as the mother bird, and we will say that it is the first of winter, getting along toward evening. The ground is frozen and covered with snow. Their food in the swamps is frozen and spoiled ; the young clover along the old woods road, with the winterberry, snowberry and bunch- berry, are all covered with snow and the old lady must find them other food. This she knows well how to do, as she is just now leading them up from the brook and swamp, and across the old wood road to a thrifty yellow birch upon the side of the ridge, fair- ly loaded with buds. These from the frost are now just sweetening off to their taste. The old lady leading on ahead, stops a little away from the tree, and turns one eye up toward its top, steps a little to one side, and looks again. Perhaps this is the first time the young birds ever made a full meal off birch buds. Up flies the old one ; all follow, one and two at a time. Now begins their supper. We can watch them and almost see their crops round out, with the quantity they eat ; then they have finished, all seem to have enough. We do not want to shoot any of them, as we have plenty of meat at camp. Soon they are talking to each other. The mother bird looks around upon her now big babies, saying something which all understand ; squats low upon her breast, spreads her wings, and leaving the branch wildly swaying up and down, flies straight as an arrow across the old road, down, over the brook to the large spruce, in the evergreen thicket. All follow, lighting upon the same tree with the mother bird, all are now talking together at the same time without regard to etiquette, until a slight hint from Mother P, when they shake their wings, dress their feathers down with throat and bill, stretch first one leg, then the other, tak^ 52 The Aroostook Woods. two or three short steps up and down, then cuddling close to their branch, place their heads beneath their wings and soon are sleeping, whilst the old lady keeps one eye open for callers. Passing by the same locality in midwinter the same covey are in the trees again budding, getting another supper of birch buds, and as we are toiling slowly along toward camp, pulling after us our heavily laden toboggans, we are more than willing to stop to rest a moment and watch our birds. Sitting upon our sleds and keeping quiet, they do not mind us at all after their first look and scolding us a little, merely crane high their necks, take a look down with one eye, commence to feed again and forget our presence. There is two feet of light snow upon the ground, the cold wind is now dying out and the prospect is for a cold, still night. The birds are about done feeding, but as the sun is shining a little of its last warmth for the day upon them, they sit close down upon the limbs hugging their feathers down to their bodies, draw down their necks until you just see their small heads above their breasts, and seem to say, " let us have the very last of the sunshine ;" or perhaps they just sleep a little bit, and what is most likely, are saying their bird prayers, being thankful for this little bit of sunshine in winter and for the bounteous store of sweet birch buds everywhere growing for them. " We are getting tired of this, birdies ; you should not sleep when you have company." The old lady indignant at hearing us speaking, or feeling the change in the temperature now that the sun is down, rises upon her feet and with a " pletes ! pletes ! pletes ! " flies head downward, plumb in and under the snow. "How! had she been contemplating suicide?" The Aroostook Partridge. 53 "No indeed, this is their warmest place to sleep in a cold night. Watch the others ; there they go every one of them, landing but a few feet apart ; they imitate the mother move- ment exactly, under the snow and out of sight, every one. Wait one moment more and watch. See ! the old one has just poked her nose out and is looking the situation over." Three or four more little black heads are pushed up a little through their white blankets ; one gives a little twittering sound, which is good-night, when the dark heads all disappear. The snow closes in after them, and unless one had watched their movements or knew of their ways, he would never mis- trust what made the many now nearly closed openings in the snow, where they scooted in and under, about three or four feet from where each one is cuddled with its head beneath its wing. We often hear the boys say, " such heavy crusts this winter, we fear the birds will all be frozen under the snow." Yet they seem just as plenty again the next fall ; a few birds may be too long imprisoned, and but a very few, for the crusts very soon become friable after more snows fall upon them. Occasionally the fox and the fisher helps them out if they scent them, and yet, these smart fellows do not always succeed in getting them, as we have noticed by reading their movements, by the signs on the light snow over the crust. "What is meant by a drummer; does he drum in the fall? How does he drum ? " Occasionally they do a little drum- ming in the fall but nothing compared with their spring-time drumming. We were speaking of their courting and pairing off in the fall, and at this time the young males practice their first at the drumming and calling the ladv bird. One must laugh to see him parade himself, raise the black ruffle about 54 The Aroostook AVoods. his neck, spread wide his tail, and strut proudly and daintily up and down before the admiring pullets. But in the spring- time when the snow is all gone and the warm rains have washed the trees and branches, the old logs, stumps, rocks and mosses, and the thick carpet of leaves upon the ground all clean again, and the winter accumulation finds its way to the bottom, adding its plant and tree food to the lowest, wet and decaying leaves and the rich mold already there, when every twig and bud seems smiling with the changes, with the ever- greens standing all about, fairly mellow in the sunshine, seeming every hour to grow a prettier green, and more intensely beautiful with the warmth of the sun that has now come with its new power and to stay, bringing all back to new life again. Then the partridge drums, and drums as if a herald, spreading the glad tidings to all the dwellers of the forest. He is wary and watching whilst drumming, and to see him at this time, you must creep cautiously and be hidden from his view. Down in the swamp upon some shaded knoll or a little way up the ridge in a thicket of evergreens, here is his own favorite drumming log, and no other " masculinous par- trigenus " (?) dare approach it. If the log is a dry hollow one, it conveys the loud and lively drumming sounds. If wet, mossy and decaying only upon the outside, the sounds are less, more muffled, and making him appear much farther away than he really is. Hark ! hear him again ? It sounds much as> if you placed the palm of your hand upon a dry hollow log,, beating it slowly at first, three or four beats, then increasing,, quicker and harder for a half moment, then lighter to the end of the other half of the moment, and you get some idea of the drumming sounds. But he does not beat the log with his Tin: Aroostook Partridge. SS wings, as many would suppose, to hear him. Strutting l>;ick and forth over the length of his log, he will stop ;it times, crane his neck, and with head turned a little to one side, downward, listen, then march on again, stepping slowly and daintily, his head just on a line with his back and he is making a pretty little bow at each step. Again he stops at the other end of his log and listens as before. As he sees not nor hears his lady love, he turns, spreads wide his tail and repeats the promenade back again. This he will do many times, often unfolding his wings and shaking them out as if exercisins: for strength of muscle in his arms for the drum- ming. Again he reaches the centre of his log (which is usually his drumming spot) stops, turns in the direction from which he is expecting his charmer and again he is listening. She seems a born coquette and is no doubt coming with slow mincing steps, taking the most roundabout way behind the logs and bushes, stopping often to pretend to be taking a bite from something she has no appetite for ; perhaps sitting down upon the sunnyside of a fir bush to watch and laugh at him, as she peeks between its branches. Finally stopping in the centre of his log, he stretches his head and neck high in air, standing straight as any soldier drummer boy, opens and extends his w T ings to right and left, brings them half-way back and beats them against his sides and breast, as before mentioned. Commencing with three or four beats slowl)^ then faster and quicker until his wings vibrate with lightning- like rapidity, producing loudest sounds when half through, when the sound begins to lessen, dwindling down to the end as if the effort was tiring him. Come with me gentle reader, where we can hear this jolly, gamey drummer at his best. We will step out of the hunting 56 The Aroostook Woods. lodge on a bright still morning in the sweet spring-time and listen to him. He is just over the small clearing and the narrow strip of lowland, through which runs the brook, upon the ridge opposite and nearly on a level with us, some thirty rods away. How very plainly we hear him. And now, as the last sounds die away to quiet stillness again, another drummer far beyond, as if waiting his turn, joins on imme- diately and continues the drumming lively, if fainter, like a far away echo of the first, and as we are listening to catch the last vibrating sounds which comes to us with the gentle south- erly breeze now springing up, the large red headed wood- pecker, wholly without good manners, bursts out with loudest pounding upon the tall hollow pine just behind us, then with a laughing squawk, as we turn quickly toward him, flies away with long swoops downward for another tree handy by, to repeat and re-echo his merry tattoo. Again our first drummer, after waiting a few moments slowly commences, but is soon giving us another exhibition of his quick wing power upon his breast, clearly conveyed to us by aid of the dry log. Then often from three or four different points in the wood, at this time in the morning, we hear it repeated, when finally the drumming all ceases. They have probably now gone to breakfast, but will again cheer us with more lively drumming just before sundown, and perhaps (as we have often heard them) even late in the night, when the moon is shining brightly out, and if we are not sleeping too sound, we may be awakened by some young and amorous fellow, that is not yet half tired of his newly acquired accomplishment, giving us extra, a free and merry serenade. > r c o o o td c H O w 5S The Aroostook Woods. AT THE CAMP IN THE WILD WOODS. 'Tis the last of mild September, now the boys arrive at camp, Each one happy with the prospect of canoeing and the tramp ; All are merry, busy fellows, some are cleaning up the house, Crying woe to every spider, deal the death to every mouse. Soon the lodge is all in order, and, from the sleeping place The fragrance of the balsam boughs fills every little space ; The shelves are newly papered and 'tis clean as one can make, So we'll pair off after dinner for the ridges, stream and lake. As we dip the purest water from the spring beside the bridge, We hear the Captain's chopping echoed loudly o'er the ridge; Then he builds the jolly fire outside in open air, While the Doctor peels the onions in the breezes blowing fair. Soon Frank cuts the steak, gets it ready for the wire, While Georgie lays the table far to windward of the fire ; Now Jeff brews the coffee, 'tis so good, before we think Like Oliver Twist, we ask for more, " I'll take another drink." 'Most the last of gay October, and the days so fair and bright, We almost wish them twice as long, though half as long the night; For the pleasant time goes quickly, in the sunny autumn days. All too soon the sun is leaving with its last golden rays. THE BROAD BARREN. NOT truly barren indeed, do we consider these interesting and often attractive lowlands. In many of them we see much that is pleasing and which invites our attention. The one Ave are pleased to speak of, is to us, full of interest winter or summer. On a sunny day in winter it shows a gay and cheerful picture, from the many belts and clumps of pretty evergreens scattered through it upon the more slightly elevated spots among the many dwarfed spruce and juniper, their bright green contrasting beautifully with the white glistening crust upon the deep snow; and this is not a barren waste surely, when we consider the immense number of dwarfed trees upon which grow each year, quantities of moss, for the caribou to feed upon. Then also its moist, spongy bottom is rich with mosses and lichen, which they love so well that they scrape off the snow with their cloven feet, to feed upon it, until the snow is deep and crusted upon its surface. Then they creep about upon its frozen crust feeding from off the trees again, getting better picking than at first, from off the ground, then higher and yet higher as the snow deepens and new crusts form, until many a dwarfed tree is stripped of its gray, mossy streamers to its very top. 60 The Aroostook Woods. Not a whollv fruitless barren " seemingly," when George and Jeff came in one clay in the fall of the year, each with his saddle of venison, and returning the next with the Captain (promising us a treat at tea time) when at a late supper hour they came trudging to camp over the blazed trail, with a full creel of trout and three bushels of the finest large, red cranberries. These, or rather the promise of them, the "jolly jovials" had espied, all in their bud and bloom, early in the fat fishing season, in June, while they were quietly paddling around the shores of the little lake, and switching their flies up and down the winding stream, returning late at night all flushed and animated with their day's sport, their creels again full, packed with nicely dressed speckled beauties. The large barren contains many an acre and all through its length, in and out and around the turns, runs the crooked, winding stream, cool from many springs, vet wrongf Lilly termed the dead water, from the fact of its having but little current. But the dead does not well apply to this pretty little winding river, for we have seen it so many times glistening in the sunshine in one place, rippling away in little wavelets at another, while at the next bend below having quite a sweep of the wind fair across it, the little rollers were chasing each other over to the land, where the hard-hack bushes on the floating boggy shore at first were bowing to them as they came, then dancing up and down and rocking to and fro, while on the long, wide reach farther down, the stream was wide awake and surely ail alive, with its many white caps and jolly little breakers at the rocks far below. We have many pleasant recollections of the old barren, of happy hours during lovely sunshiny days ; of lucky and successful expeditions ; of the good appetite at noontime The Broad Barren. 6i gained by the tramp, the pure bracing air and the canoe paddle. We see at this time, as if again sitting upon the old beaver dam, the luncheon spread out upon the cedar splits, the tea-pail beside the fire and the trout or partridge with the necessary piece of pork over it, roasting over the coals, the Commodore sitting beside us, looking over the waters and the woodland with equal enjoyment ; a staunch friend, an enthu- siastic sportsman, a keen shot, one that sees, admires, appreciates and loves the forests, lakes and streams, and not the least, this wild, bleak barren. The spruce and fir trees grow well down to the level of the barren, nearly encircling it with gentle rising walls of pretty green that never lose their beauty. Acres of small second growth of white and yellow birch, poplar and evergreens grow at one place beside the barren, having sprung up after some forest fire, years since. This is a famous place for partridge and such a spot as he loves, for he can never go supperless to roost in the young forest of birch and buds. Here too, the knowing and industrious beaver has for years had his home, has built his house of turf and sticks upon the bank of the stream, close to the waters edge in many places, and whilst the partridge is making his supper from the buds upon the trees above, he is, with his sharp strong teeth, cut- ting them down below for his winter supply of food. Just below this infant forest of birch and poplar (the beaver's favorite woods) this bounteous storehouse of ever accumulating ford, for the deer, partridge and beaver, not forgetting the rabbit, musquash and the jolly frog, a beaver dam is situated. The beaver dam is worthy of mention as well as the. beavers themselves, as these ingenious contrivors are often the originators of the barrens. These dams are 62 The Aroostook Woods. usually built at the narrows of a stream, where often the large rocks help much to aid them in lodging their first logs. The undertaking is usually commenced at the driest time, or lowest stage of water in the fall of the year, and the labor mostly performed by the strong, happy, earnest workers during the moonlight nights and the dark rainy days. They are com- posed of all kinds of cuttings from fair sized trees, divided in suitable lengths, down to the smallest shrubs. The branches laid lengthwise, crossed, twined and intertwined by the busy workers. Sods, rocks and mosses, and in fact everything handy and available that they can carry in their teeth or beneath their arm, is utilized, until they have the required height to flow back sufficient water above. Then with the help of the current, which is constantly bringing down the many leaves and loose grasses and immense quantities of drifting fragments, that all settle in over their network of twigs and branches, they are at last rewarded with a strong, tight dam, flowing back the water and changing a shallow stream to a much deeper one, giving them a nice deep pool in front of their winter homes and for their storehouse. Standing upon the old beaver dam and looking down the narrower, rocky, more rapid stream below as far as the eye can see, runs the laughing water, white among the rocks, dark and silent in the pools. These are deeply shaded by spruce, fir and alder, rock and fern, and where, if you rest your eye a moment when the sun is creeping to the west, or in the early morning when it is gilding the eastern hills and the dew is sparkling on the ferns, and dripping in the pool from every branch and bush above, you can see the " speckled beauty" turn a somersault in the air and go down with a splash. This sends a thrill over you and you may forget for The Broad Barren, 63 the moment your fry pan on the coals. Seizing your rod you hasten clown upon the opposite side to have your shadow behind you from the water, for he seemed such a nice one as you saw him for an instant in the air that you really want him, so you do not make a cast directly at him, but a little to one side, then repeat. He sees it and shows you his silvery side, then retreats to his rocky hiding place again, and trailing your flies directly to you and behold, he does not miss this chance but chases on and takes the fly almost at your f oet ; you land him in less than half a day this time, as he only weighs a pound, yet he is full large to be the very nicest after all. On a fine morning in December, three of us, with luncheon, hunting axe and rifles, left the camp early in the day for the broad barren. We had about twenty inches of snow upon the ground and a nice snow-shoeing crust upon that, just friable enough to settle well beneath our tread, without noise, and to leave a fine road or snowshoe path behind us. And as the route to the barren was a good one, to run over occasionally to look for large or small game, we proposed (as was usual with us) to break out as we travelled a good road for our future use — one that we might pass over with ease, and quickly if we wished, without having to scarcely glance where we w r ere stepping, leaving us our eyes wholly for the surround- ings. To have nice paths through the woods in winter over the deep snows to the lakes and barrens, over the ridges, by the swamps, besides your line of traps, and a number of them in different directions that you may start out any morning over the one that gives you the wind in your face (if for a deer) is a pleasure to one, after they are completed. And to have the paths satisfactory, is not each one travelling at ran- 64 The Aroostook Woods. dom, neither two side by side ; but Indian file, every step, which is the easiest as well. The leader takes his usual gait, picking his way over the old lumber roads, or through the clearest level chances- on the route, and if he is thinking of future trips over the path, and that the toboggan may be needed to sled home his game, he avoids as much as possible all rough chances and sidling places, keeping to the levels, stepping heavy upon many a little hillock and winding around the tangled windfall, thereby laying out the road where a loaded toboggan would run smoothly without the annoyance of tipping over every few moments. Indian number two follows, stepping exactly where number one did not, which leaves the path well broken out for the third one (if coming on behind) who should not neglect his part, which is to finish up to a nicety the level road by treading down any promi- nence left behind. Like this was the path we made this clear, bright, breezy morning, from the door of the hunting- lodge to the white snow-ice upon the winding stream at the barren, where, standing upon the frozen river we looked over a pretty winter scene. Everywhere, far and near, was the pure white snow that shown brightly upon every little rise or hillock, where the late fleecy snow was blown from the shining crust by the wind. Pretty, it surely was ; and even more, beautiful, because so secluded and so far away from the ever rushing, crushing struggle after the shining dollars, being situated in the heart of "God's Country" dotted here and there by clumps of leafless juniper and low, scrubby spruce, with scant dark foliage, yet all gay with their gray moss streamers trailing out with the breeze. Belts of evergreens and larger dark spruce, looking warm and cosy upon their sunny side (where, sometimes, and The Broad Barren. 65 perhaps at this moment, lies, out of the wind at mid-day the wary caribou, wide awake even if half asleep, while chew- ing over again his morning browsings). While the sun shines above over all, brightening the wavy tops of the trees, and tempering down the keen edge of the northwest winds that are sure to find us out if we come down when they are having a little fun, racing wild and free over their broad, white park. Circling away from the vicinity of (at this time) the best feeding ground for the caribou, we followed the stream down to the young birch forest, crossed over to the lower end and commenced our quiet still hunting up the barren with the wind blowing strong toward us. Travelling a little way apart, keeping just in sight of each other, we moved from one clump of trees to another, w r ith an easy going lounging gait, stopping at times behind some friendly evergreen to look well over every small opening. It was a most perfect day for hunt- ing on the barrens, and we were in great hopes of interviewing Mr. Caribou strolling down the wind, and in this were not to be disappointed, for we had gone but a little way before we sighted a moving caribou, that at the first was feeding and slowly moving about. As he wandered out in full sight in a clear space, knowing their imperfect vision at a distance and being dressed in caribou plumage, a suit of gray much like the trunks of the trees and similar to their own color, we instead of walking toward him, played caribou, thinking we might induce him to come to see us. Noting his drowsy, dreamy movements while feeding about as if grieved or sleepy, we concluded we could imitate him quite easily, for having been disappointed in love many times in youth, we could easily adapt this style rather suggestive of misery. So stepping out in plain sight, we lounged about with head down, 66 The Aroostook Woods. from tree to bush, for a moment, soon attracting his attention, when we immediately stepped to cover. This brought him to us almost at once. Throwing up his head he came trotting down with the wind to within a few rods of us, when know- ing he was about where he saw the supposed caribou, stopped to look about him, and received a shot. As he ran off to one side, from another ambuscade he received the second shot, when he plunged madly on out of sight. Quickly after the shooting, before any of us had stirred from our cover, down with the wind and trotting directly for us, came another, a young buck, and as he halted like the first in nearly the same spot, two or three shots struck him and he leaped away behind the trees after the other. Following their tracks, we found they had been badly wounded, signs showing this at each jump. Coming to where a number of the small dry juniper trees had been broken off by the breast of the large one, we soon saw him lying quite dead behind the evergreens. A few steps further on the young buck also was lying, his spirit already far away in the sunny glades of those vast and endless happy hunting grounds. Drawing them back and behind the shelter of the evergreens where we had done the shooting, we went quickly at work to dress them, it being best to do so as soon as down if possible. The younger of our party, a mere lad, was told by his guardian to build us a fire as quickly as possible, as the wind was now whistling; down the long reach with a chilling effect upon us after the excitement. This he proceeded to do, but often his eye was away up the barren, and it was but a few moments after that he made the most admirable shot that can be given an animal. Admirable because it gave no pain, being: instantaneous death. I believe our voung friend had The Broad Barren. 67 been unusually excited over this, to hi in, new kind of game, for although he was a keen shot for smaller game, he had yet to see and level on his first deer or caribou, and as they came and halted, with their eyes looking directly in ours, their heads high in air, such pictures to behold for the first time, upon the wild, white barren, and so quickly away again, he forgot he held a splendid rifle in his hand until they were out of sight. But the sequel proved he had recovered from the buck fever. While we have been busy with our work with our heads down, he has been watching a movement up the wind, and as he hangs the black kettle over a cheerful fire of dry juniper and turns to glance again he quickly reaches his rifle and crouch- ing upon one knee, old hunter style, gives the warning, "Hist!" We quietly settle down and half turning, see com- ing trotting down towards us a stately dame caribou, large and high headed. This was the boy's chance, and well he improved it. She came in the tracks of the others before her, but not having the same curiosity, or being a little more wary, halted a long shot away, head on, to take a look at the picture before bounding. She had hardly made the stop when the boy-s rifle cracked, and you could see the lead strike as exactly in the centre of her forehead as if you placed a finger there, and the white brain shoot out like stars, with her dark forehead as a background. Down she dropped without the sign of a tremor, as dead before she settled to the ground as if killed the day before. The boy was the lion for the season ; we never saw a cooler shot for the distance. This gave another to care for, but our work in good time was well done, and cleansing our hands by repeated washing in the melting snow water beside the fire, w r e sat down to the welcome luncheon. 6S The Aroostook Woods. Dinner over and the sun looking toward the down grade, we prepare for leaving behind the breezy park. First, we lay- aside for each to carry home, a quarter of venison and a hide. The balance is cleansed in snow, packed in the same and a thick covering of boughs placed upon it to keep off the sun, and to mark the spot where cached. The quarters of venison are folded in the hides and securely tied w r ith withes of the red osier. A strap or band is braided of the same, which is attached to the pack for handy carrying. The pack resting high upon the back, the short braided band secured at each end is passed over the head, resting upon the right shoulder, down over the breast and under the left arm, thus relieving hands and arms from the care of it. Leaving the hunting axe with its strap and case hanging beside the blackened tea pail for our use when returning for the venison, we slip on our snow-shoes, shoulder the packs, pick up our rifles and lay our course straight for the winding stream, across, and down to our well trodden snow-shoe beat. Then into the thick green woods, where the frisky winds are but a sigh above us, and on to camp, where we arrive with the twilight, just a little bit tired and a big bit hungry. But after our hearty supper and the refreshing sleep, then our coffee in the morn- ing, we prove to be all ready and impatient for the pleasure of again starting out on the snow-shoe road, across the dell and through the glade, over the hard wood ridge, then through the evergreen swamp and over the barren, with our to- boggans, to draw to camp our venison. One unacquainted with the way of handling venison might say : what can be done with so much wild meat? None should be wasted, none need be. With us a good part is sent home, and what they cannot use, there is many a family thankful for, and who The Broad Barren. 69 will take kindly to stewed venison. And there are friends that remember 11s when "striking it lucky;" they should be thought of in return. And there is the friendly Indian who makes the baskets and weaves our snow-shoes, having little time to hunt himself, though naturally a dear lover of wild meat, he can be made to show grateful smiles over his usually sober face, and his black eyes to twinkle at you kindly on being presented with a piece, for a smother, or a stew ; and not a morsel wasted, we warrant. And not just a little bit will satisfy us fellow r s at the hunting lodge, when we have plenty for steaks, stews and smothers (and a rib roasted over the coals is not too bad, really) con- sidering our appetites, always the very best from tramping in the pure forest air. And then the best of all is to be able always to preserve it by shrinking and drying, with a little salt and smoke, and it will keep a long time (if you can keep it.) It is then a welcome treat for everyone; particularly acceptable at tea time, shaved thin, and makes a very welcome addition to a hunter's dinner at noontime, when he sits down beside the brook far back over the ridges to eat his luncheon, without having shot a grouse or caught a trout while on the tramp. Most sportsmen are very fond of dried venison, and really, if nicely prepared, it is excellent. We call to mind one who takes most kindly to this luxury and have seen him with a flake of his favorite relish in his hand, whittling thin shavings therefrom with his knife, and eating it with very evident satisfaction expressed in his countenance at the time, apparently oblivious to all else but its fine flavor, the tramp and hunt for it, the shot he gave it, and the very welcome sight of camp and supper on his return. Among the Evergreens. 71 THE SNOWY NIGHT IN THE WOODS, The snow, as light as downy feather ere was seen, so pure and white, lias fallen softly all the day, ne'er ceasing through the silent night. Covering all the woodland o'er, and levelling up the rocky fell, The many clustering evergreens, holding a larger share as well. Shielding the many wild-wood dwellers, safely housed up from the storm. Beneath the fir bough, and the blow down, wherever they have found a home. In the rocks behind the ferns, underneath the brake and bramble, In many a cave and hollow pine log, in the thicket and the dell. Upon the deer, lying beneath the thick and drooping evergreen, Till nought but just an eye and ear, by each other can be seen. Till every bough above is downward bent, some drooping to the ground And the deer are often covered o'er with whitest robes like eider down. When they must then arise to be relieved, ere buried almost quite, Then turn, lie down again and rest, and thus to do till coming light. And in the evergreens, beneath their thickest boughs the storm does brin^ Many a wild-wood winter bird, to rest with its head beneath a wing, "With every feather snugly hugging down, and its breast turned to the breeze, To sleep, and wake, and sleep again, till morning shows between the trees. When every rock and fern, and every stump of spruce, cut high or low, And every mossy log and fallen tree, lie hidden beneath the snow, While every bush and tree above are all arrayed in spotless white, All bending, drooping, calm and quiet, in the coming morning light. THE AERIAL BLIND. YEARS past and at a time when the deer were scarce com- pared with the present, and more wild with all from too much stalking, we concluded to build us a rookery up among the branches of the trees, high enough, that the breezes should not notify the deer and caribou of our presence in their feed- ing grounds. Accordingly, a Boston boy and your humble servant, built us what we called the "Aerial Blind." Our companion had acquired the sobriquet of Doctor, so called from his being well versed in chemistry. He had soon learned to answer to this title, no doubt fully realizing as well as we that he had taken all the degrees necessary for treating healthy woodsmen like ourselves. But his ability to compound medi- cines was such that one found it impossible to resist swallow- ing a dose of his dispensing. The doctor, truly in love with the health renewing forest, is entertaining and cheerful ; he not only enjoys the good time on an outing, but seems the hap- piest when industriously assisting to make it more pleasant and enjoyable to the party. So we two, armed and equipped with saw, axe and hammer, spikes, nails and augur, ropes, wire and dinner, not forgetting the blackened tea pail, which The Aerial Blind. 73 we tied on behind a large load of ceder splits, on the toboggan, started for the scene of action a half mile distant from our camp. Arriving, we reviewed the position and started in for a cheerful day of interesting work. The situation showed four lumber roads coming into one, and that the main road to the landing on the stream. This we considered one of the best stands for the game, as the deer and caribou both love to wander up and down the old woods roads, feeding upon the young sprouts from the old cuttings, besides it being the better travelling which they will often take advantage of. Choosing a central spot where suitable trees were growing, to support our structure, also to give a good view of the roads, we commence our engineering. Cutting two straight spruce poles over twenty feet long, we bore them with our one and a quarter inch augur, put into them twenty good rounds, and have what we first need, a twenty foot ladder. This is raised up beside a large yellow birch, four feet from a thrifty spruce, which two trees hold up the wide end. Ten feet away stands another nice spruce, and these are all bored into, stout pins driven in, and this gives us a good rest for our floor timbers. Tough little straight spruce poles resting upon these are wired solid, and then comes our flooring of the cedar splits ; next, foot rails, hand rails, or side railings, to steady one while walking along, also capital to rest a rifle when making a fine, steady shot. In a similar manner we ran the poles from the two trees to the one, giving a good pitch for the roofing, which was sail cloth, painted to match the tree bodies. Then sawing off the single spruce above the roof we had a steady and solid platform, that would bear up near a ton's weight ; a couple of boxes for seats, each a buffalo robe and our overcoats, which kept us comfortable in 74 The Aroostook Woods. the coolest days. We could sit here on the boxes leaning: agfainst the trees, one watching the south, his eyes travelling from east to west, the other the north, scanning to and from the same points. On the warm still days this was glorious ; if a little chilly we would don our overcoats and wrap around us our buffalos. Eyes open, constantly taking in the roads, little glades and openings, ears alert to catch the snap of a dry stick if stepped upon by the game, or the rustle of the dried leaves as they wandered through them much above their dew claws. These sounds you hear at times when you cannot see the game, yet knowing as well it is a deer as if you saw him ; when you may step cautiously toward the last sound you heard of him, but likely he has passed to leeward, smells you, and is off like the wind. We never wearied of this watching, always thinking perhaps the next moment our game might come wandering along quite unsuspicious of our close proxim- ity, with head down, feeding slowly on, taking a bite only here and there, until the sharp crack of the rifle, when if not killed, or even hit, they jump to one side, or perhaps toward you, head and tail erect. Just before he reminded you of a lazy calf, now he is a picture you would like photographed. He stares about in astonishment, neither sees, hears, or smells the enemy. Wait a second until he turns his broadside to look the other way, as he will ; now, crack, again. Ah ! he hugs his tail close ; one, two, three jumps, and he is down. We keep quiet where we are a few moments to see if he has company, then go down to view the prize and take care of it. Oh, the man}- happy hours with a pleasant companion, upon the old " aerial blind." We hated to give it up, but since it came in under the head of unlawful taking of game we have The Aerial Blind 75 passed it by, yet never have gone hungry for venison without it. Sitting upon the blind one quiet sunny day in the fall of the year, watching and waiting, I had really fallen in a dose, when I was brought around again by an old bluejay's screaming over my head. Looking down the main logging road I saw a fine buck walking leisurly up toward me, and stopping, head on, stood for a moment as if looking directly at me, but apparently he saw nothing to fear, and turned a little to one side to take a bite, when he received the shot. One bound, and he w r as out of sight in the bushes. Pumping in another cartridge, I stepped down the ladder and slowly worked down to leeward of the place where I expected to find him, finished, but he was not co be found so quickly. The leaves were thick upon the ground and after two or three jumps one could not track him. I picked up a wad of hair and saw a few drops of blood upon the leaves but no deer. After taking the course of the jump and then loosing all trace entirely, I circled around and back to the spot without any more signs. Unwilling to give up, knowing he was badly wounded, I took another circling tour, widening out, gradually working around again, and when nearly to the spot, passing through some thick evergreens just below r the shooting I nearly stepped upon him in the thicket laying down. He jumped as quick as my eye met his, and I guess I was startled the most for I fired too quick and wild, and overshot. Into the thickest part of a swamp he ran. I could not see him, but listening attentively I knew he had again stopped. I should have left him alone awhile then, as this is usually the proper thing to do, for if I started him again without dropping him, he would run as long as any life was left. However, I marked the location by some taller trees, worked around to 76 The Aroostook Woods. leeward, and came upon him so carefully that I saw him before he did me. He was standing upon his feet looking toward the place where he last saw me. This time he was handy and dropped in his tracks. Looking over the ground the next day more carefully, I found when first fired at he had made a few jumps to the eastward, and turned square north for this thicket, and laid down, where I found him at the second circling. Once more dear reader we will go back to the dear old blind now so old and weather beaten that it is only safe for two of us, and we must step lightly. Go with me this lovely autumn day, and as you climb the twenty foot ladder and arrive at the last round, you reach up, grasp a branch and take a seat upon the flooring. You get your breath and take a long draught of the upper fragrant air off the trees, and looking around you are already interested as I can plainly see. Stepping up upon the old flooring, you stand leaning against the big birch and look for miles over the pretty forest, varying and prettier with every sweep of the eye. Tree tops waving gently in the breeze, the beech leaves rustling on the trees, the branches swaying to and fro while their shadows are mimic- ing upon the ground. Upon the right we see the ridge of mostly hard woods, many yet wearing those beautiful shades of autumn, while mixed in are just enough tall evergreens to brighten up the picture and all grow taller seemingly ; and are they not elegant, as they reach the top of the ridge and are joined by the rosy clouds, no more beautiful than the trees, though they vie with sunny Italy. In front of us and to the left, we look for miles over the evergreens, with only occa- sional little hills of hard wood, and these growing more scattering as we look beyond, until they all end far below as The Aerial Blind 77 if a broad lake lay at the bottom. Beyond this again we just see the distant woodland showing its faint line of smokey blue. What intervenes? The broad barren and its winding stream. You can trace the little brook from here a mile or more, down its winding course by the lower land and the scattering juniper along its line. And here close beside it on the left, upon the knolls are many prettier clumps of the light green firs beside the darker spruce, so tall, which are relieved and made as beautiful by their tops being loaded with a wealth of golden cones. Here and there those monster tall ones have been left year after year, by the lumbermen for some slight fault in their growth, or because singly and alone. And they, with the few venerable pines, are like sentinels watching over the large army, while all are gently waving with the sunshine over all, the youngest just as pretty as its brother straight and tall. Very many pleasant hours we have sat here, enjoving it very much if we did not get a shot. And many times alone, miles from any human being, yet never lonesome, and never weary of the scene, always enjoying the sweet woods and lovely sunshine in the fall time, when all is so beautiful to look upon. The many different shades of the trees, the ever beau- tiful green of the fir, spruce and hemlock, the bright scarlet and crimson, yellow, green and golden of the autumn leaves, the thick carpet of dried ones upon the ground, that dance and rustle in the breeze, all down beside the little stream of bright, sparkling water which is ever running on its zigzag course by the trees and rocks, ever singifig its little song of sportive gladness. And with always a little life to add much to the interest, the frisky little squirrels running over the THE AERIAL BLIND. The Aerial Blind. 79 leaves, making so much noise at a quiet time that you at first think a deer is coming. The many different birds flying and hopping about, many coming so near you when you are sitting motionless as to almost light upon you. And sitting here upon the old blind when the wind is sighing through the trees, we listen to the "voices in the w T ood," and hear the many low murmuring sounds, as if persons talking together. Far away sounds, as if the hounds were baying upon the track. Oftentimes low strains come to us, faintly, as distant singing; often a sound so much like a shrill whistle as to startle one, thinking some one is signaling to you. And suddenly, as the wind whirls by, a scream and a screech, sounding so human, or inhuman, as to really startle one, as some old weather beaten and dry knotty top chafed quickly against one similar; and always those low murmuring voices coming down the wind. Standing alone one bright, still day, leaning beside the spruce opposite you, I had some callers. At the first a red squirrel was playing up and down the smooth beech about thirty feet from us, when suddenly an owl that his loud chat- tering had awakened, started from her roost in the thick spruce to catch and eat him. The squirrel saw her coming, and when the owl was pretty close the squirrel was upon the other side of the tree, and around skipped the squirrel as around 1 tlew the owl ; faster and down they circled around and down- ward, when the squirrel dodged in his hole at the foot of the tree. The owl, anxious for the prize, carried too much steam toward the last, and whacked her wing so hard against the beech that she sprawled out upon the ground. She picked herself up and lighting upon a near tree, looked down, very sorry like. The squirrel poked his nose out and gave her a So The Aroostook Woods. long, happy chitter. Exit owl, up again squirrel, all alive with the fun, and as frisky as ever. That rather funny fellow the woodpecker, next came flying directly to me (I wasn't afraid.) He brought up upon the spruce tree directly oppo- site my ear and commenced his drillings for his favorite food, the white wood worm. " Tap-tap-tappity-tap " and his feet made loud scratchings as he worked up and down on the rough spruce bark. Presently he worked around to within five or six inches of my nose before he saw me. Suddenly he stopped and looked me square in the eves, gave one horrified squawk, that even startled me, as he flew out and away. Occa- sionally a partridge or two would show themselves crossing the roads and sometimes loiter around a little too late if we needed them. Rabbits, toward evening, we often saw hop- ping about getting their suppers, and often were we deceived by big sounds from little feet ; and at times, hearing the cracking sounds of sticks breaking beneath their tread we knew that some large game had passed, just out of our sight, behind some thicker growth. One dark drizzly day, towards evening, a small dog fox came out of an old road in front of me. I had no luck that afternoon and concluded I would carry him to camp, if nothing more ; and as he was nosing about at his ease, I waited a bit for a sure shot with the rifle. Hearing a mouse squeak, or seeing something he would like for supper, he pricked up his ears and commenced creeping up the road, giving a very good shot. I rested the rifle upon the railing, fired for his head, and missed it by just one six- teenth of an inch. The bullet struck, spank, in the soft wet earth just under his nose, splashing the dirt and water in his eyes. If vou saw him you would have smiled. He turned a back hand-spring and gave two or three of the most astonish- Tin: Aerial Blind. Si ed yelps, mixed with small growls, and with every hair from his nose to the tip of his brush standing up, he skipped away lively down the same way he came. It is really interesting to sit quietly up in the trees and watch the deer below in their native wildwood, free, and roaming at will, wholly unmindful of your presence, and not an enemy to them lurking near, as they stroll about and some- times pass immediately beneath you, feeding leisurely along, now and then stopping and raising their heads to look anx- iously about if they hear any unusual sound, which must be unusual to attract any attention from them. Not the wild roar or whistling of the winds, the groaning or creaking of the trees, or even the falling crash of an old monarch of the forest, unless very close to them, and then only one little jump do thev make before understanding it all. Nor the hooting or screech of the owl, or the half yawn, half scream of the hob cat, nor the call of the fisher (the black cat) as he starts out on his evening's raid at sundown. All these are familiar sounds to the deer, at which they scarcely raise their heads from their feeding. We had the pleasure at one time in the fall of the year while sitting upon the old blind, of seeing the unexpected meeting of two deer, which were both females. One was feeding very leisurely, its head low down, for its favorite plant or shrub, its sauntering movements, as usual when feeding at ease, suggesting it might be half asleep, when suddenly it hears a sound different from the scampering of the squirrels or the soughing of the winds. This is a steady rustle of the dried leaves upon the ground conveyed more dis- tinctly by the breeze being toward the listener. Another deer as slowly wading by through the thick covering upon the mould of dry and rustling leaves, which are very dry and S3 The Aroostook Woods. rustle loudly, and more than ankle deep where blown into the little hollows. Upon hearing this noise the listening deer, now showing to be wide awake, quickly raises its head and directs its eyes at the first glance, exactly to where the sound conies from. Seeing walking along one of its* own kind, it stands intently looking for a moment, when it utters a low sound to attract the traveller's attention. The new comer stops, looks, and sees a friend, but remains motionless and as intently gazing as the other, when the first to observe, after a full moment, takes two or three steps forward, and then trots briskly up to within a few feet of the new arrival, and after exchanging greetings at this little distance, each quietly resume their walking, soon separating and drifting away from each other, each to wander and feed by itself alone. The pretty red squirrels greet the deer with many noisy little barkings, and their loud and long chattering as they dart across their path at will, while the birds fly and sing all about them without being noticed. All except the impu- dent bluejay, the beautiful tattler, who is always a hand)- by nuisance, knowing just where the sportsman is sitting or standing, on the watch, and if a deer is approaching he will make the forest ling with his noisy screamings, while the war}' buck at this apparent warning, will stop and prick up his ears all alert for some danger. We may stand close beside a large tree without moving and have the game pass within a few feet of us, perfectly unconscious of our presence, if Ave have the wind blowing free from the game towards us. But the slightest movement on our part, and they catch the human eye upon them, a small sized cyclone of leaves, twigs, dirt and heels are seen for a moment whirling in the air, and we are alone again. THE ROCKY BLUFF. BACK among the hills, away beyond the hunting lodge and about midway between the lakes and barrens is situated the rocky bluff, a mass of rocks, rolled out and pitched high by some upheaval of nature in the early days, or perhaps dumped off from some heavily loaded ice island during the glacial period. It ends abruptly at the south end with the bluff, down which steep descent one can pass by goin^ between and around the lar^e granite blocks and boulders, and beneath their shelving ends, which are all bleached and gray from years of storm and sunshine upon their south and cast exposure, but dark and mossed over at their base and north side where thev are partly shaded by the evergreens of dwarfed growth which are standing upon the tops of the rocks, between them, and growing out of the fissures or small creviecs where they can rind a rooting chance. The bluff, beginning at the north, a quarter of a mile away, with three or four black mossy giants of rock which are standing upon tip-toe beneath the dark spruces, and which old granite sentinels we look for, as they are our guides to the bluff beyond, when approaching it from any northerly 84 The Aroostook Woods. point. An airy promenade this, in midwinter, with a cold norther sweeping its upper levels, but a glorious perching chance in the mild sunny days of the Indian summer, for to be upon the high granite horse-back, close to and nearly on a level with the tall hard wood tree tops that grow out of the rich bottom beside its base, the mild breeze constantly bring- ing to you the sweet odors from the wood below, looking away for miles over the gently waving tree tops, is a pleasure indeed, while below, and near at hand beside you, and in the branches before you, you are constantly being entertained by the squirrels and birds, which in a very short time after your arrival, instead of being frightened seem rather to enjoy your visit, often coming quite near and eyeing you curiously, as you sit so quietly in their wide and roomy reception hall. Here, watching over many an acre of hard wood growth, thickly carpeted with dried leaves, one can occasionally see a deer or more, wandering, and likely toward you and the shel- ter of the bluff, and often long before lie is near enough to you for a shot. This rocky eyrie with its precipitous sides and steep bluff, with .its east and south exposures lying much in the sunshine, has many a well sheltered nook. These are partly filled with the dried leaves blown in from off the tree tops close beside them, and many, with good shelving roofs over them of projecting granite are dry and comfortable quarters for some of the forest roamers, and particularly "Mr. Bruin." Here in the late sunny days, after his long and wide tour of summer roaming he may lie, high and dry, safe from intrusion, and sleep in the warm sunshine enjoying his rest each day, after his nightly wanderings, and when the cold weather comes upon him, and the snow is too deep for his short legs and big feet, and the food he likes is frozen The Rocky Bluff. 85 and spoiled for his taste, the roots in the ground which he loves, and the beech nuts as well, are buried beneath the snow, he from force of circumstances, as well as from his love of sleep perhaps, bethinks him of a warm nest for a long rest of winter quiet, to hibernate, as it is their nature so to do, to pass the winter in close quarters and seclusion, there to sleep until the snow ceases for the season, and the warm rains take its place, followed by the bright sun warming all to new life, when once more he can trot about and find his food. So if nothing: has disturbed his sunny cave where he snoozed away the most of the bright days in the Indian sum- mer time, he retires to it, and prepares it for his den. He strips the small dead cedar trees of their dry bark, making it fine with tooth and nail as he tears it off them, and with this and the leaves and mosses, beneath and around him, makes a warm nest for his long winter of quiet rest, stopping the entire entrance except a very small breathing hole, with branches, twigs and mosses, after his last outing for the season. Here he lies warm and dry, sleeping away the winter months, in his fat content. His breathing hole always kept open by his own warmth, unmindful of the wolf, or Indian devil, that at midnight may sit upon his roof-top and howl at the moon. But, should the watchful .hunter while snow-shoe- ing past his den, chance to see that small cloud of warm steaminc- air coming through the snow from out his breathing hole, his fate is sealed. But our great interest in the bluff was its being situated in the line of travel of the caribou, as in their wanderings to the north, from the south streams and barrens, or back, again, they often wound around the foot of the rocky spur, it being a landmark for them, a bright sunny spot, and often a friendly 86 The Aroostook Woods. shelter from the cold winds, for these hardy fellows, though not seeming to care a straw for the coldest weather, have often been seen enjoying their warm sun-bath. So, starting the caribou within a mile or two of the bluff, going either way, then leaving them and hurrying forward, getting a good posi- tion upon the rocks in advance of their coming, and we had an advantage over them not often or easily attained. During two or three hunting seasons we have frequently seen the track of an over-large caribou, and finally had several times interviewed the old fellow himself, when he would be the first to throw up his head and bound away, carrying the herd after him. lie was high-headed and long-legged, gaunt and slab-sided, his coat always bleached to tawny white and lightest gray, stubby, scraggy antlers, and unmistakably old in his looks, but not in action, for he would trot away on those long legs like the wind. Of course we called him the 4 'Jumbo Caribou,' and his track was quickly recognized by its immense size. We always spared his life on account o£ his what would be tough-chewing steaks, and dry rib stews. But he was often threatened, for his example of extreme wariness, for when with the drove, his head would be the hist seen, high in the air, and with sniff and snort, away he would fly with the herd, never known to break his trot unless to leap over something in his way. At the beginning of winter, one morning after a jolly snow storm, Joe and the crew being at the camp, they took the advantage of such elegant tracking and started off southerly, for a deer or caribou. Drifting away over the hills, some- times heading nearly east, then south, again nearly west, and back to south, they zig-zagged back and forth, working mostly south, hoping to find something handy near home. If not, to The Rocky Bluff. S- eat their dinners sitting upon their favorite rocks at the south end of the bluff, travelling their easy going, quiet gait, often stopping to watch awhile and listen, keeping near enough to each other to hear the usual signal. At last as they cross the dry ravine, from which the land rises gradually for a mile, to the black giants, Joe being well to the east, the crew work- ing back from west to south, hears Joe give the "signal" (which means, only big game, and that on the jump) when they quickly come together at the south line again, and hurry for the bluff. As Joe has started a bunch of caribou which have trotted away south, a little easterly, he disturbing them while on their way north, over the trail running by the rocky bluff on its east side, they expect before long to see the caribou walking back to the bluff, to try the west side of the horse-back, on their way north again. Soon passing the old sentinels be- neath the black spruces, they hurry on and take a position among the boulders on the bluff. They had been sitting there nearly an hour, among the low- scrubby evergreens, side by side upon their bough cushioned rocks, had eaten their cold lunch and had indulged in many a fragrant whiff of the nerve quieter, which all floated away among the tree tops, When Joe whispers, "coming." An occasional snapping of underbrush is heard and the sounds coming from the south-east, directs their attention to a small thicket of low firs, when a head and antlers is seen among the green boughs, followed by others. Soon a tall gaunt buck caribou steps out in the open hard wood growth, and is slowly walking toward the bluff followed by the drove all unsuspicious of danger. 14 Jolly, what a drove," says Joe and adds : 88 The Aroostook Woods. ''That's a pretty sight to see if we do not get a shot, and that's old Jumbo, with his stumpy mis-shapen horns, on the lead. Say, Mr. Crew, let's kill the big buek, we have a tine chance ! " "No, Joe! we know him too well ; he is not fat, and his antlers are worthless ; so scrubby from old age, he can never grow another pretty set in this life, as each year he sheds them, the} - grow on more inferior." "Say then, let's take the two large ones without horns!" "No, Joe ! for if they have two lambs apiece next spring, it would make a difference in these woods of six caribou." "Well ! Well ! yon must say quick !" kk One of the two young bucks in the rear is all we want, Joe, the next to the last ; wait until he is just opposite beneath us, when we will both shoot together, and likely kill him instantly, be ready and shoot low or yon will shoot over. One, — two, — three ! " Crack ! Crack ! " Not quite simultaneous, Joe, but how's this ? Both youn^ bucks are dead ! " "My rifle shoots to the left, " says Joe. JOE AND CRONIE. CRONIE had just finished planting his garden ; many bright red Aroostook angle worms had been saved in case he should conclude sometime in the near future to start off on a fishing trip. These smart and squirmy, so very hideous to a sensitive person, yet so very jolly to the bait fisherman, had been given a fine chance in a tomato can with rich earth, covered with a fresh green sod and placed upon the moist ground in a cool, shady chance, when up comes Joe. "Hello, Cronie." "Hello, Joe." "Let's go fishing," says Joe. "Guess I can't, Joe." "Well, now, 1 wish to make a few remarks to you Cronie." "All right, sit right down here beside me and explain yourself." "Do you know, Cronie, how very pleasant it is to be in the woods, at the hunting lodge, just about this time in the spring: "Yes, indeed " "Hold on ! let me tell it. The ice is all out of the lakes, so 90 The Aroostook Woods. now the trout are cruising around the shores and a few sport- ing in the quick waters even this early. The flies are not at all troublesome as yet, and you know in two weeks they will be just horrid. The green leaves are just opening from the buds " " Seems I smell 'em, Joe." "Wait! the bears are roaming around the camp trying to steal some more of your bait, just for fun." "That settles it, I ain't going." "Oh, sho ! come on ; the sun is nice and warm through the day, and the nights are just cool enough to have a nice fire, while sleeping in the shelter tent down along the stream at the fishing chance. And the mornings are so bright and cheery with the birds singing so gaily " "Tie up, Joseph, I guess " "Just hold on a moment if you please; you know the camp wants to be opened to the sun and a fire in the stove to sweeten things ; and its just the time to make a garden, plant some potatoes, beans and cucumbers to have to eat during the fall outing. How they will grow on the new land. Just think of what a little paradise of a garden we can have even there, away back in the woods. Now what do you say? ' "But you see, Joe " "Wait a moment, and just think of those six and eight ounce trout, out of the water and into the pan ten minutes after." " Hold up Joe, I want to say to " "I can't stop just now, please; the moon rises at nine o'clock, the night promises fair, we can get to camp by noon to-morrow, even should we have to walk the horse up the hills. I have the new boat finished for the doctor ; he writes, ]<>K AND CltONIE. (JI ' be sure to take it with you when you go, and it will be there for the fall outing;' and if you are a little rheumy and do not feel real strong and hearty, I will do the propelling, you shall sit in the stern with your paddle and " Just at this moment Joe was shut off rather suddenly. Cronie had been slowly cutting; tobacco and flllinp; the briar- wood during Joe's earnest and prolonged harrangue, and while his attention is attracted to an old mother robbin reel- breast that has a nest of young ones in the tree handy by, is tugging at a monstrous black headed angle worm, and Joe is much interested, a smile upon his face, lips apart, eyes wide open. Cronie carlessly seratches an orono match. New although Joe's head was turned to one side, the disagreeable brimstone which he positively abhors was wafted to, and curled and gathered in his thick moustache most admirably. During his violent sneezing and coughing, crooked and indis- tinct words, Cronie eseaped and began packing for the fish- ing trip. After tea they strapped the pole of the two wheeled calamity to the express wagon and hied them away just at the gloam- ing. It was a splendid night for the ride, the moon keeping them company from nine o'clock until it faded and was forgotten with the coming daylight, arriving at spring hill just in good time for cooking the breakfast. Spring hill is a cosy spot beside the main travelled road that runs through the forest within a few miles of their camp. A fine cool spring of good water beside a pretty camping ground, where many hold up to make a cup of tea, feed their horses, eat their luncheon, or pitch their tent for the night. Breakfast over, and the horse having eaten his oats, his head, much to his dislike is pulled up frorn the short grass which he is cropping, (j2 The Aroostook Woods. he is harnessed in again and they proceed on their journey. A fine road, the horse refreshed, they soon skip over the re- maining hills and valleys, arriving at the hunting camp long before noon. After dinner it is raining, so they employ the afternoon cleaning up and straightening out the camp. "Let it rain," says Joe; "who cares. AW- have a tight shingled roof over our heads, with an air space of four inches above it, with another roof of split cedar above that again, which should keep us dry surely." This way of roofing is beautifully cool in summer and just the daisy of a plan for snowy, icy winter. May 27th. Thev are up at four o'clock, have breakfast, and are quickly at work upon their garden, a small piece of land pretty thick with stumps, well decayed however. Uncle John, who came in with them to assist in cutting out the fallen trees from across the road, tarries with them until after dinner, and now takes hold to help them like the good fellow he is. They could hardly have accomplished the stumping part without his assistance, for which they heartily thanked him, voting him to be, as ever and always, one of the best of boys to them. Twelve o'clock, dinner over, Uncle John has just left w r ith their horse for his home, out on the main road (out to the States the lumbermen would say), and now they step out to view their small garden, all finished, planted and watered, for it has been a warm, dry, breezy morning and the soil is light. They hope to see the seeds sprouting before leaving for home again, and they gaze upon the small planted patch with much satisfaction, as it is something quite new for them to have a garden at the camp. A large part of potatoes, a patch of pole beans of the cranberry variety, half a dozen hills of Joe and Cronie. 93 cucumbers and a small bed of onions. These last they found in the camp cellar where they had wintered without free/iny, having very yellow tops 'tis true, but soon take on a nice green after the wetting and the sun shines upon them. It all looks very inviting now in the small clearing. The cosv camp so snug and warm in winter, yet cool and pleasant in the warm spring time, with its; roomy porch (of which every sportsman thinks so much of) all open to the south, the well trodden path toward the spring of excellent cool water, which, winter or summer, is always just rigid. The spring house built over the incoming water, with its little cellar floored and walled with smooth, flat rocks, the water always heard trickling beneath them. This thev think much of, as "well as the clear, pebbly brook coursing down beside it all, with its corduroy bridge across, and the cedar split walk-way part way to camp. Perhaps on a dark day, at a time when three or four feet of snow had fallen upon the camp, nearly hiding it from view, one might chance to pass it when unoccu- pied and think it had a chilly, dreary, uninviting look ; but with the boys at home, the tall black stove-pipe raised above the roof, emitting its jolly clouds of smoke from beneath the hood upon its top, casting shadows that are ever moving and rolling over the white snow covered roof, slowly and curling, during the lull of the breeze, swift and straight across as the wind sw r eeps down from over the spruces just behind it. Ah ! then the chance passer by would admit it to be a cheery shelter. And now likely as not, and just at this time perhaps, as is often seen, "Bobby," the cute but theiving squirrel scampers to the highest peak of the snow covered porch, defying the smoke, and with his last piece of plunder in his little hands sits stuffing his nearly always distended cheeks. c>4 The Aroostook Woods. And the bright sunshine which always finds them if it is out calling, and is always lovingly received in winter, is the crowning point over their cabin home. As it rises in the morning they see its pleasant smile at the east dormer win- dow, and circling around it sends its warm rays in upon the tiers of newly cut and split hard wood piled in the shed, until they fairly crack, snap and groan from its power. Steadily on it moves, higher and more powerful, when at noonday in all its lovely warmth and brightness it is flooding in at the porch and doorway, which is often standing open in mid- winter, to admit its cheerful rays and pleasant company. But to return back to the garden, all smoothly finished. There is the old log stable with a goodly number of pieces of woodbine nicely growing, running up and soon to cover the south end, which is facing the garden, protecting it from the cold winds and reflecting the warmth of the sun directly upon it. The tall cedar bean poles standing in a square in front of the stable gives the place quite a civilized look. Upon the tallest in the centre a pretty bird has already perched himself and no doubt will locate here now, to pom- out his song morning and evening for them. A very pretty- little garden, and if it does well, — and why should it not, with our warm summer showers, the doctor will be pleased to step out and view the spot, and will enjoy much his favorite string and shell beans. ''Pretty good for half a day," says Cronie, Stumps all out and rocks put to a good use at the foot, giving them the commencement of a stone wall, beside which Joe has planted some scarlet runnels; aren't they romantic ? "Well, good bye little garden," say they, as they pass by Joe and Cronie. 95 it to the lake in the afternoon to try their new canoe boat. Arriving, they turn it over right side up and place it Eor the first time upon the water. First exclamation from Joe. " Cronie, isn't she a daisy?" "Correct you are, Joe, she is a darling daisy." And in the enthusiasm of the moment both exclaim in chorus: "dearest darlingest, daisiest daisy." At this happy outburst, no doubt the reader may smile, but they will not mind it just now, for their bonny boat called " 77/6' Same Please'" is just a perfect beauty. Not large, just large enough, all cedar, every part of it, the knees and stern pieces natural cedar crooks from the butts grown upon the lake shore. Sharp, both ends alike, and it paddles away over the water like a new eighteen foot birch bark canoe. "Sails well enough to suit even the Doctor," says Joe. " Not a bit cranky, and would carry half a dozen easily, but is just the thing for two or three." Joe, the happy builder, has surpassed himself in this his last boat — has proved himself an artist indeed. "Joe, we thank you, the Doctor and I," says Cronie. Joe now taking the oars and Cronie the light cedar paddle, that was made from the white sap part of a straight, tough and young cedar, they go skipping out upon the waves, the breeze driving back to the alders upon the shore the few early black flies which attempted to follow them, at zvhich they smile. On they go, merrily dancing, across the lake to one of their best fishing grounds and arrive all anxious, and ex- pecting a trout supper. Joe soaks his leaders and proceeds to switch with black gnat and brown hackle, and the little blue butterfly, but all to no purpose, not a rise. "Not one, Joe?" 96 The Aroostook Woods. "Nary a one, Cronie." Cronie at last becoming disgusted with such luck takes his bait rod, and with three or four of his bright, red Aroostook an- gle worms, looped upon the hook in such a manner as to leave many heads and tails squirming about promiscuously, proceeds to prove to Joe that fly fishing is dudish, and the way our fore-fathers did is the proper way, notwithstanding. Soon he has the worms lightly touching the surface of the water, then down they go wriggling and squirming, looking very tempting he thinks, for some good trout, moves them up and down, draws them away from some imaginary fish, then lowers them back again, and finally wilts and gives it up. Not a bite ! They then put up the sail and run down to another noted chance, which Cronie remarks never fails. "What, never?" "Hardly ever, Joe." Here the sail is taken in and with the paddle the boat is moved cautiously to a good position beside the alders, just above an incoming brook, and here, after many moments of careful manouvering, the same result. Joe's choice selection of seductive flies, nor Cronie's Aroostook bright red angle worms can induce a trout to flop on board "The Same Please." Joe lays aside the fly rod, looks dreamily over the lake and asks: "What can we do now?" "Well, Joe, all we can do is to bid the lake a dczv, and as it will be sundown ere a long while, we will get back to camp. It is a fine side wind and we will have a jolly sail. In the morning we will come down to the lake again, get on board and try at the foot of the lake. The rains raise the brooks and the water is roily here ; they have gone down to quick water or to the lower part of the lake to escape more Joe and Cronie. 97 turbid waters. This brings to mind an old saying, Joe." "What is it?" ••After the rain go shoot a deer ; but before the rains go fishing." Next morning, May 2SU1, they are on board their bonny boat at five o'clock, for the morning is the best time to fish. Gliding down the lake with the south wind, all sail set, and a slackened sheet, they soon arrive at the narrows, when the wind being taken from them by the woodland, they furl up their wings and paddle to the outlet, where they leave their boat and walk down a little piece to quick water and the rips. Here, after a little, they are soon taking them, both with fly and worm, and fast enough to satisfy the most greedy of trout pigs. Here they find them in abundance and soon have a dozen or more of the finest sized ones lying side by side upon the rocky shore. As these are all they can use at the present, they stop fishing, yet a little reluctantly. How they wish they could send to their homes a dozen or two right from the stream, but they are far away and no quick convey- ance. "They are here to-day, Joe," says Cronie. "Yes, indeed they are. Should we tell of what we see swimming over these rips, they might remark that ' 'tis another fish story.' Well, we have caught enough for supper and breakfast, have we enough think you?" "Just to please yon, Joe, catch half a dozen more while I am preparing some of these clean shiny fellows for our dinner. The day before we leave for home we can kill all we want to carry with us, at any pool upon these quick waters." After dinner the trout for cam pare dressed, wiped dry, rolled u O I— I Ph o o u w w Joe axd Cronie. 99 up in thin birch bark, and packed separately in the fishing baskets. A layer of moss at the bottom serves as a spring cushion tor them to rest upon, with moss between and over them, no two touching (rilling the baskets quite full with the moss;) there is no bruising if carried in this manner, and they get to camp dry and cool, which is the proper way. A dozen small fir boughs placed between the basket and shoulders serves ;is a cushion for the back, and gives the cool air a chance to circulate .between. As soon as they reach camp the trout are placed in the cool corner of their spring house cellar. They get an early start for camp after dinner. Leaving the boat behind at this point, they conclude to go to camp by the way of the old supply road which is quite a tramp, and con- sidered pretty gamey. A really good road to walk over, for such an old one (as usually these older roads are choked in many places with windfalls,) and a very pleasant road as it is so varied. They have no need, nor do they wish to hurry, but walk as leisurely as they can and keep moving along, enjoying the scene more from the slow sauntering gait. At first, starting away from the lake they pass through a very old camping ground that shows the well decayed logs, and very large pines for the bottom ones, and remnants of the hewn pine flooring, where once, a long time since, stood the lumber camp, where long, long since, the lumberman's axe was heard from peep of day until the shades of evening gathered thick around him. where, with the glow of health upon his cheek, in the pride of his strength, with a well-hardened muscle as he buried the sharp steel in the noble spruce or pine, upon the ridges on a clear, breezy day, the sounds could be heard plainly over the hills and far away for miles, but ioo The Aroostook Woods. dull and muffled, and reaching but a little distance from him, when every limb, bough, and twig had become weighed down to the breaking point with the soft damp snow. Here then stood his snug, warm house, where he returned each evening after his good day's work, often wet and hungry, but always w r ell, strong and hearty, to eat his supper of pork and beans with good strong black tea and hot ginger bread, usually topping off with dried-apple sauce. Then to grind his axe already for the morning, and after singing some of his best jolly songs for the boys in a free and easy manner, he tumbles into his own place on the fir or hemlock boughs and is asleep in five moments ; and such a good, resting sleep as he has, while the fat cook piles on the birch and maple logs. Nothing disturbs him after this, until four or half-past in the morning, when the cook suddenly breaks the quiet with his call, "turn out boys, breakfast." As they rise the first hill, they leave the pretty old camp ground behind them with the sun shining brightly upon the new growing grasses and enter a succession of dark, mossy hills and hollows. Little rocky bluffs they pass, close beside the mostly straight, yet sometimes winding road ; they can see them often in the dark distance on their left hand, showing bleached and a lighter gray on their south exposure, dark and mossy on their sides and north of them. Most of the soil and very rocky bottom is covered with white, green, gray and dark reddish brown moss, and so thick a mat, one might walk over it ever so carelesslv if creeping for a deer, without mak- ing any sound. Above all grows the tall, black spruces, their thick green tops touching and embracing each other, shutting out in most places nearly all the daylight, while before them and behind, as they are walking upon the upper Joe and Cronie. ioi long levels, they see and are travelling in a straight line of light and sunshine, over a carpet of green, gray and brown velvety mosses. Walking through these shady dells and hills in the spring time, on such a sunny, quiet afternoon as this, is a pleasure few could help but enjoy. Coming out again to broad open day and the full widened- out sunlight, they are standing upon the last rocky hill belonging to this dark shady upland, and looking down into another and deeper dell, but quite changed. Only a scatter- ing spruce or evergreen is now to be seen compared with the many behind them, while nearly every variety of the native hard woods are in view and mixed as evenly as if planted by the hand of man for a showing of the different kinds, large and largest, small and smallest, down to the tiniest seedling having only its first two leaves, and those in the form of the seed it sprung from, which some day and in some man's time, may grow to be the very monarch of the dell, reaching its arms high above all others toward the beautiful blue sky. Sitting upon the rocks a few moments before stepping down into the pretty sunlighted valley, they notice some of the many different kinds of hard woods ; the rock maple which is the curly and the bird eye, white and soft maple, yellow and w T hite birch, the very largest of these being the canoe birch ; the beech, upon which grow the fine nuts the deer love so well ; the ash, elm, moose wood, iron wood, cherry and others, while scattering about and upon the hillside and beyond, they see an occasional spruce and fir, with a very few hemlock. Here, this afternoon in the early summer, standing above the trees while they were all fairly mellow in the warm sun- shine, their young green leaves scarcely trembling in the faint breeze, they w r ere more beautiful than glossy satin, and io2 The Aroostook Woods. their sweet fragrance could be almost tasted in the air. Down the rocky descent they leave the mossy carpet behind them and their feet often grate upon the bleached granite instead. All through the dell the birds are chirping and singing, seeming to have chosen this cosy sheltered place in preference to the higher land to build their nests and rear their young. Thev climb the rise, which, like the bottom of the dell, is thickly covered with the old leaves that were only one year since as, elegant as those above, while here and there a fallen monarch, beautifullv mossed over, beside, and out of which, thick growths of vellow lurch are springing up very thriftily, enriched by the tree that has had its time, and now lies down upon the ground as food for those that follow. As thev reach the level again thev see and pass through the beech nut grove; not all beeches, but so many and such thrifty, stately trees standing in groups and so generously distributed over the ridge, that they feel justified in thus naming it. Here, in the fall time of a fruitful year for the beeches, and when the frosts have opened the burrs, and the blustering winds are sweeping through the branches, come the harvesters and the gatherers and later on the gleaners. Hearing the sweet rich nuts rattling down upon the dried leaves, thev hasten forward to the feast ; not the school bovs with happy shoutings, as this is too far away to hear the recess bell, but the many dwellers in the forest here. Young and old, large and small, those that wander all about the hills and ridges, through the leaves, that when dried thoroughly by a sunny morning, loudly rustle as they approach, and others that fly from tree to tree taking their choice of the choicest, before the feast has been spread out and distributed over the leafy covering for the large families that feed beneath Joe and Cronie. 103 the trees. You see the leaves ploughed up in ridges, nosed over and trampled upon; this is "Bruin," he roots like a pig for them ; smaller spots, in plaees scraped clean of leaves is by the red deer. Both love them and continue to visit the groves, and scrape and root for them until after the fir^t snows. Fat old Mr. Bruin comes slowly trotting over the hills, making a spanking big track in the light snow, a third larger than his foot really is, his toes and claws showing plainly if a damp, light snow. The porcupine is often the first to be seen in the early morning after his breakfast. He climbs to the top of the tree, and there sitting in the fork of a limb, reaches out and draw- ing in an armful of twigs containing the ripest and best, and hugging them to his breast, he chews away at his quiet leisure, merely blinking and twinkling his small, bead-like, black eyes, when the old screaming blue jay grows the most excited and indignant at his piggishness. Both the porcu- pine and squirrel commence to eat them much before the regular harvest, and soon the blue jay takes the hint and is picking open the burrs, and next the partridges. As they are slowly walking down from the beeches, Joe a little behind, something large is seen to wheel quickly and face toward them. Cronie steps quickly behind a tree, noti- fying J oe D y gi ym g two low calls of the blue jay. He understands, gets a glance of it and it is gone. There was but little or no wind ; about ten or twelve rods down the road stood a cow moose looking up at them. Joe for the first time in his life sees a live moose in the woods, but only to get a short peep of her when she trotted down the hill out of sight. "Oh, " said Joe, "how I should like to get a line view of that moose." So they crept along very quietly a 1 04 The Aroostook Woods. piece down the road, watching, each side, thinking very likely they would have another sight of her in some spot off the road. Sure enough, in a moment or two thev heard a rustling" on the left of them, when she showed up beautifully, standing upon a knoll quite still, looking at them several seconds, then trotting away again out of sight. This time thev had a clear view of the cow moose standing not nunc than twelve rods away and upon elevated ground. She had changed her old winter coat of long, thick and coarse hair, with which they present a rough ami shaggy exterior in early spring, for a new coat of fine, satin finish, which was very short ami a shining black, and having become quite fat again, upon the quantity of new and tender browse everywhere growing for them, her round, smooth body was a picture. Xo jumps did she make, not being at all frightened, merely startled, and trotted off at her leisure. As they walk along, Joe exclaims again and again, tk Oh! Oh! wasn't she a black, glossy beauty ; don't the)- trot grandly." They continue on to camp without meeting with anything else worthy of note, excepting a baby porcupine. He was sitting near the top of a young sugar maple, eating the young- leaves, with his quilly tail hanging staight downward, look- ing very comical indeed, as he stopped his eating upon seeing them beneath him, and drew down his head and shoulders until he was half his length in appearance, remaining per- fectly motionless, with his black eyes ever on them. At first glance at the porcupine, one might take him to be a large bird, sporting a long tail, as Joe remarked to him, that he hail altogether too much tail for his wings, his small, black, bead like eyes twinkling innocently as they looked him over, but not harming him, nor wishing for his fur, as it is not the most elegant kind, if smoothed the wrong way. Job and Cronie. 105 May 29th. Up in the morning just as it is coming day. They make a fire in the cook-stove, put on the coffee and open the camp door to listen to the song-birds. Finding the choir is about to tune up for another morning's concert, they step out and take a seat almost among them. One of the squirrels barks at Joe, which Joe understands and throws him a piece of doughnut ; this he jumps for and gets, running off with it chattering on the way "good for one song only." Soon the wood robin commences his whistling and his "chat!" "chat!" and is soon joined by the choir, one by one, as they awake and gather around the camp, all joyously welcoming with apparent praise and gladness another fine summer morning. The white-throated song sparrow in the distance is again adding his happy song, and we hear him plain and clear in his pretty calls constantly this morning, and as he is heard all over the county. We hear him often when sitting engaged in our fishing, and dearly love his pleasant song and company. Every little while through the morning and evening he is telling us something like this: " I see see se teetatee teetatee te — ," and again, "I see e — " lengthen- ing out his notes, sweet and very clear. The moose birds, crossbills, finches and chickadees fly almost in the camp to get the crumbs they throw out to them. The humming bird, which is seldom seen here in the forest, has found the clear- ing and tarries in the sunny place, often alighting on the bean poles, looking cunningly around the garden. They hardly suppose he as yet knows of the goodly quantity of scarlet runners and other blossoms which they are promising him in the sweet bye and bye, in the garden. A pair of cute little brown wrens with tails as straight up as usual, are building their nest in a brush pile near the woodshed, Joe io6 The Aroostook Woods. promises them a bird-house for another year, for they are pretty and interesting company, and should have a tight roof over them for their nesting plaee. Lastly, but not the least by many a chittering chatter, is their ever present company, the chickaree ; the red squirrels are constantly saucily scampering in and out, and all about their feet, as independent as they please, as they have been too much humored. One in partic- ular was often in disgrace while the boys were at the camp, for his theiving and impudence, and now is carrying the Captain's private mark with him, until his last skip over to the happy hunting grounds. For a more serious theft than usual, they one day decided he must die, and as he ran up a tall spruce, stopping a moment to chatter back at them, the Captain fired a rifle shot, cutting off his tail smooth and clean, within an inch of his hips. He would not lire again but granted him a pardon for all former offences. He is now quickly recognized and is known as " Bobby, the thief." After breakfast they decide to make another trip to the lake and to go by the way of the old road again, having hopes of seems: once more something interesting in the way of large game. But they are not as fortunate as the day before, yet have a very pleasant trip. Frequently, as they stroll along, the joyous, happy drummer is heard, at times very close to them, but more often from afar back in the forest. This they are pleased to hear as it is an assurance of man} - birds still living, and building their nests to rear flocks of young for the fall shooting. Passing by the knoll upon which stood the cow moose the day before, they saw her tracks, which are so similar to the domestic cow's, but she is not to be seen this day, apparently. Perhaps standing upon a similar ridge many miles away, for like the caribou they are wanderers, Joe and Cronie. 107 ranging over much territory but often returning to and tarry- ing a short while in some loved spots which are the most like home to them. This ridge, and the little knoll whereon stood the moose, they will always remember as where they saw an interesting sight; a glossy, black wild moose in the early summer time. The birds are merrily singing as they again pass through the beeches and the dell, and the bluejay as usual is screaming, as if the sentinel guarding the grove, and continues his scolding until they enter the sombre shades of the dark green trees and step again upon the mossy bottom of the rocky woodland. When half way through, a large owl is seen sitting upon a spruce limb, but makes quickly off before they get too near him as there is but little sun to dazzle his eyes in this dark, mossy retreat. Out of the spruces and down past the old camp ground and they 11 re soon at the quick waters, the rips and pools again, capturing the trout that are easily deceived and taken in the rapid water. Only a dozen or so are killed as the w r eather is warm, when these are dressed and cared for in the basket, when they walk up to their boat, which they find as they left it. Getting on board they paddle up the outlet to the lake and the broad water, when Joe proposes a voyage of discovery around the shores of the lake, running as near land as possible to find and interview all the incoming brooks, and to observe and note whatever they can see and find of interest on the way. To this Cronie gladly assents as it just meets his own wishes. They are here in a good time to find the small spring brooks as they are running full and telegraph their whereabouts with merry trickling as they enter the lake. After an hour or more they land upon a mossy point which rises some six or eight feet above the lake and then the level 10S The Aroostook Woods. woodland is seen, far inland. Here upon the mossy bank and point is an otter playground and sliding; as it is not in season for trapping the otter they are not at all careful about stepping upon, or walking over their works and examine with much interest their playground. They see where the otter walk up from the water to their playground to the head of the slide, around rather than over the slide, then tarrying at the play- ground, they frolic and play about, over a small piece of ground, scratching and pawing up the moss and small sticks in little heaps, before sliding down, plump ! into the water again. "They have been here during the last rain," says Joe. " Correct, and will be most likely to visit their circus ground during the next storm," adds Cronie. "A few left, as yet, but they do not increase as fast as one could wish, and which to the trapper and sportsman is a regret and not pleasant to be assured of. And should we hear the regular trapper com- plain of this, we may say to him, as the little brother said to the elder one, 4 Johnny, your pie can't last if you take such biff bites.' " Here they now build a fire a piece away from the otter's slide, make a cup of tea and have their dinner. A large bird of the crane family being on the marsh, a little way down the wind, is disturbed by their smoke and gives them an exhibi- tion of those sounds from which he has gained the name (among hunters) of tk Stake Driver," as the sounds are much like driving a stake into the earth. "Ah-k-chunk! — Ah-k- chunk." A peculiar sound for a bird, and to Cronie's surprise Joe asks : "What in the world is that?" Cronie allows his dinner to get cold while giving Joe Joe and Cronie. 109 a description of the bird, and how he is acting at the time of giving such sounds ; that he raises his head as he sounds the Ah ! Ah ! then thrusts it well out and downward, as if to stab a frog with his long sharp bill, as he makes the sounds " k chunk." Joe quietly informs Cronie, as near as he can make out by his mumbling words, — for both his fat cheeks are well rounded out with broiled trout and j\fa7is?ir , s Boston butter crackers, that he has seen them often down in his grandpa's meadow, beyond the old meadow hay barn. Dinner over, they resume their cruise along the shores. Passing slowly, close in under the trees, they see a pair of porcupines trot or rather waddle along on the bank, one close behind the other, looking as usual so very comical, they must again laugh at them, at which they look not their way at all, nor pay the least attention to them whatever, but roll and wag along on their short, fat legs, supporting their short, round, puffed-out bodies, their thick, quilly tails sticking quite straight out behind, the quills upon them and upon their backs all pointed upward. Small heads and little, black eyes that were looking only straight ahead, for they were minding their own business, and trotted back along the shore by which the boat had just passed, and so near they could have been reached with a fishing pole, and when first sighted they were taken for little cub bears. Even in the deep wildwood, among the animals, we discover human traits, for from the porcupine we learn that man is not the only animal that may become so deeply infatuated as to be oblivious to all else but his courtship. After noting the quill pig promenade and wishing them much joy on their wedding tour, they step on shore and find a cool spring, for which they are always thankful, as a iio The Aroostook Woods. cool drink of nice water is ever in order on their travels. They cut off a sprout high up as they can reach, and place upon it an empty condensed milk can to be used as a dipper, when they or others shall pass by again. This the boys have frequently done in their cruisings over the old roads and upon the line wherever nice water is passed, so many are distributed about the forest. As they pass the mouth of the brook running in at a deep cove, Joe, with his flies, takes a few small trout and one fine one, that gives him lots of pleasure, lights up his face, and causes him to crow just a little bit. Coming to the peninsula of pines, they this time pass over its very narrow neck close to the main land, instead of paddling far around as usual, the high stage of water now admitting. Here along the shore is quite a feeding ground for the deer, and at a low stage of water shows much water-grass that thev love. Passing over in the canoe boat a few of the rush- es brush its sides which is all the noise they are making. As they shoot out to view upon the waters of the cove a splash- ing is heard, and as quickly as it is, upon their left hand near the shore, a handsome doe deer is seen for an instant standing still, head up, looking at them wildly, turns her head half round, looks toward the shore and low bushes, and quickly jumps among them and is out of sight. Then sounds are heard of her lamb, when the mother quickly answers; more jumping is heard, and they soon see mother and fawn both wildly leaping through the shoal water over the narrow neck the boat had just passed, hurrying to the main land, the mother leading, the little spotted fawn close behind. As they reach the woods they hear a few sounds from them and all is quiet. Could they see the deer once more at this moment, [ok and Cronie. Ill they would be seen facing them with fixed attention. The voyagers now skirting around the shore of the cove earnestly scan the formation of the land, watching for a depression in the growth of the timber and have an eye out for the alders along shore, as they are anxious to find in this vicinity a cool brook which they have been told of, but which up to the present time has not been discovered, even after much seek- ing for. At last, after patient listening and watching, they are rewarded by the sound of running water, and are quickly on shore upon a tour of inspection. " Cronie, we have found it, sure ! " This is the mysterious brook, hidden entirely from one passing by water, as it runs mostly under ground, unless at a high stage of water, when it runs over into the lake. Cold and nice, and apparently having two branches that join just back of the sea wall of the lake ; two beautiful spawning brooks running from away over the hills, we know not as yet how far, but must in the fall explore with rifle at easy rest, For it has such gamey looks, Up between these two spring brooks. Taking the hunting axe from the canoe, they cut a slashing entrance from the shore to the cool water, and hang upon the stub of a branch another, their last milk can, which shows itself brightly shining when they are far away upon the lake again. " Such conspicuous marking was unnecessary perhaps, ' says Joe, kt but we are going to find that brook the next time, if at noonday, sure." Taking a long draught of the sweet brook water, they move on toward the end of their cruise, the head of the lake. They point the boat toward the inlet and directly in their ii2 The Aroostook Woods. course is a shoal place, or bar, out in the lake, from which rises out of the water a solitary rock, oval upon its top, with a small bit of growth upon it. As they are approaching it, a handsome white gull flies to meet them, hovering over their heads and then away again, then back, giving its little cry in the gull dialect, then circling around, hovers over them, say- ing to them plainly, "Go not this way if you please, but keep off, as I am trying to lead you." These pretty, pure white gulls are another interesting feature which adds to the beautiful picture, besides they being rare with them, are the more prized. 44 Last year there was only one," said Joe, "and no doubt some idiot shot its mate in mating time. I will bet the lemonade, that upon the rock ahead there is a gull's nest, and I never saw one in all my life." Sure enough, before stepping out they could see a low rude nest, made of moss, sticks and mud, and in it were three very large eggs, nearly as large as hen's eggs, which surprised them much, looking at the size of the bird. The eggs were a dark drab color, spotted with black. The birds did not make much ado after all at their landing, but both followed them closelv for a piece after heaving the rock, when the female flew back to the nest, the male following the boat, often hovering over them with a low cry and riving on ahead aeain, as if still anxious they should be led far from his treasures. Onlv a gull's nest. That's all, yet they would have paddled a mile out of their way rather than have missed see- ing this one. An oval, almost bare rock, lying out alone by itself in the lake, some eight or ten feet in diameter, nearly round, a few bunches of moss growing upon the north side, n > r. i W3 SI n ii4 The Aroostook Woods. with a small bunch of hard-hack and three small dwarfed spruces the only protection from the northerly winds. Upon the highest part of the rock, in the center, the very rude nest and the three odd colored eggs is kept warm while the mother bird is away by the sun warming up the granite, and at night and morning, cold days and rainy ones, by the mother bird. Respected by the loons as they wish no such place for themsehes when they can find the hidden chances, as close as this to the water. As they homeward to the landing drift slowlv along, Joe again is switching in a few clean silyery trout. "Those little choice ones," he says, and Cronie is pleased to hear him expatiate again, and often. May 30th. The last morning of the trip ; the alarm of the clock goes off with a whiz and a whir — r — tw What do you say, Joe, it's three o'clock." "All right, Cronie, if we go oyer upon the other side and get to sleep again I fear we will be rather late at white water rips." The coffee is soon steaming, some thin slices of Swift's bacon are approaching too near a crisp point and are set off upon the stoye hearth ; these haying already scented the camp porch, as the door stands wide open, are attracting the birds and squirrels as usual. Bobby, the thief, is chased in oyer the door stool by one of his big brothers and sits upon his stumpy tail and haunches holding up his hands and eyeing Joe wonderingly as he listens to his lively "tin tintilations"( ?) made with a tin tea spoon and a half pint dipper (Joe was beating an egg for to-morrow morning's coffee) but he skips out again lively as Joe shies his slipper toward him, not stop- ping until he regains the roof, where he barks and chatters Joe and Cronie. i 15 out his disgust for such landlords. The eggs for their break- fast, and enough also to carry with them for dinner, have been boiling twenty-five minutes, and Joe now speaks the word "breakfast!" Just at four o'clock, a little dark and cloudy, but no very positive signs of rain, they throw the straps of the fishing baskets over their shoulders, one packed with dinner for two, the other containing a variety of fishing particularities, and strike out for the "elysium," white water rips. Over the ridges, by the edges of the swamps, leaping the small brooks, then walking the old down pine as they cross the brook again beyond, on up the rise then through the fir and spruce groves so dark and shady, where the squirrel is always seen, and where for winter he gathers many cones, and the sable and fisher come visiting with no good intentions toward him, Down again and. through the strip of burned land now grown up thickly with small white birches, little dwarfed firs and wild cherry, then through a prettv grove of tall white birches, often flushing the grouse, who before he takes to wing will elevate his feathers, saying "pletes, pletes, pletes," which means, "dang it, I am not at all pleased with your intrusion." Always keeping upon the trail they had spotted, or blazed years before, and partly underbrushed, that they might hasten quickly on at times when they wished, without too many stumbles and sudden sit-downs, coming out at last upon the same stream where they had been fishing the previous days, several miles farther down to follow the stream, yet nearer to camp because of its winding way. They find here at this time in the season, good fishing on the swift waters, and in an hour their baskets are full. Sitting down at the edge of the pool they dress, wipe dry and pack the 1 1 6 The Aroostook Woods. trout in the usual manner. And now by adding a few flat rocks they completed a snug little cave that nature had nearly finished for them, close beside the little spring, and place therein the baskets of trout, while they make a short journey over the ridge to the wild cranberry bog and inspect as to the prospect for berries when they come again in the fall for the regular outing. Returning to the rips again, they sit down to luncheon with appetites well sharpened by the tramp ; so much so that a pair of moose birds which had called upon them were not invited to partake, after which they seemed to give lower, sad and mournful notes longer than usual, which affects Joe visibly, and he promises next time not to forget them. After a quiet smoke they straighten up and prepare for the homeward march, again over the trail. First they enjoy a good long draught from the almost icy trickle that comes tinkling in from between the rocks at the side of the stream, filling to the brim and running over their little excavation with the clearest, purest water. Then they look lovingly away up the stream, upon the rushing water, dotted with many a well-known boulder, and upon the" rips, and then upon the silent, though deep moving waters before them, with smiling thankfulness for what they have often as now afforded them. Pretty, cheery river, even though they leave you far behind, you are not forgotten ; the} will think of you many times and often, and though the actual sound of the happy, laughing voices of your bright and pretty waters do not reach their ears in reality, vet they will often hear you just the same, and always love you ; and now as they turn their faces from you around toward the camp and koine, they feel they change to rather a sombre hue, and mirrored m the spring they show a cheerless look at parting from you. Joe and Cronie. i i They lift the baskets and start upon the promenade, turning their backs, decided to look no more upon the stream when it's so "all alive," yet they turn when upon the higher land, and cannot help stopping once more to look back just a moment and say good bye to the now sunlighted waters, and then plunge manfully on for the old blazed spruce that shows the entrance to the trail and are back to camp in time to pack what they wish to haul home with them, snug up the hunting lodge once more, and have a half hour to spare, wdiich they devote to further improving their little garden. Then their horse is sent in for them and they are soon on their way home, where they arrive the next morning, tired a little and sleepy too, but well enough to saw wood. A LITTLE BEAR HUNT. SHOOTING an animal through the heart is not always immediate death as some might suppose, for they frequently run quite a distance before falling. Often the sportsman having made this sure death shot, he may think he has missed altogether, as he sees the animal running away to some handy cover, where if left to itself and not followed up too quickly and noisily, would likely be found handy by in the first good hiding chance, lying dead. On the other hand, if hastening after it the game hears you now quicker than usual, and the wounded animal keeps bounding away through the thickest chances as long as any life is left, and likely now it escapes the hunter altogether, dropping dead at last, to be found by the meat eating fellows (the carnivora) who now have a most glorious feast, leaving nothing at last but the larger bones of the animal, which are also eaten entirely after becoming softened bv the snows, by a myriad of mice which are everywhere living in the forest. If we could shoot the bear directly through the centre of his skull or immediately behind its ear (and all other large game as well) it would be the proper shot, humane, and the most creditable, for this is A Little Bear Hint. 119 instant death. Now we know why we do not often risk this shot, unless the game is very handy to us ; it is because if he does not have the wind of us and is not much startled, we are expecting him in a moment (always provided we stand as motionless as the tree bodies themselves) to gradually with- draw his eyes from us, and looking around to the way from whence he came, partly, or wholly present his broadside to us half a moment just before jumping away. With some companions we were paddling our canoe noiselessly up a still water, listening intently for those sounds that always indicate the close proximity of game. "To-day," remarked a cronie, "we will not be particular, as we are hungry for meat, so let it be moose, deer, caribou, bear, porcupine or musquash, in fact anything eatible, for we will not return to camp without the wherewith for a broil or a smother." - When far up the quiet winding stream we caught those sounds that we wished to hear, the breaking of small decay- ing branches upon the ground, and they seemed breaking beneath the tread of some heavy animal. My companions pushed the canoe ashore quietly, and we stepped toward the place the sounds came from, avoiding the many partly decayed alders upon the shore, which make such sharp cracklings, and stooping low, to save our eyes from the thick growing twigs and climbing vines, we crept through to a little clearing handy by. It was an old lumber landing with grassy spots scattered here and there, but mostly grown up to large brakes, with many a small fir bush mixed in. Getting out of the shore growth of alders into this little sunny paradise of a chance for many kinds of game< when situated in the midst of the thick woods, we were just in time to see an old bear [20 THE A.ROOSTOOK Woods. with owe cub leaping away out of range and For the woods beyond. A little disappointed, and knowing it was useless to follow as they had the wind from us, we were about to turn for the canoe when we espied another well grown cub thai had just taken the hint oi danger, making off obliquely for the same direction. We gave this follow a shot that passed through the lower half of his heart, when he tumbled over, but was quickly up again and bounding away faster than before. We gave chase, thinking he could run but a very little wax, slipping in another cartridge as we ran. lie was soon out oi sight in t ho brakes, but his snarly ba I arah 3 ba! ah! ah] gave us the right direction, ami we expected every moment to pick up the cub and return to the canoe. At this time we were using a single shot rifle o( light calibre and really was not anxious to be interviewed by big mother bruin under existing circumstances, but we wanted some cub steak and took our chances. Keeping our eyes open as we ran and just as we came out into another open place, we saw by the quickly moving brakes ahead of us that we must stand firm just where w e were and be ready for the sure and instant death shot through the skull, or perhaps take a scratching, for the old bear, hearing the cries of the cub was coming straight for us as we could see by the black bounding rump among the tall brakes, but no sine chance good for a shot. When within thirty feet of us, her jaws snapping, eyes full o{ tire, and showing the whitest o( teeth, she was very near the edge of the little grassy space in which we were standing. But in place of showing herself plainly to our view ami standing up Facing us, as is generally their way, thus giving a fair shot at the heart, or even approaching clear of the brakes, and halting a moment to intimidate us, with A Little Bear Hint. 121 gnashing her white teeth, she whirled and away upon seeing us, as quickly as she came, and ran again toward the cub. The boys now hurrying up from the canoe we followed the trail made plainer by the old one, while we frequently imitated the ba — arah — ah ! of the cub, to decoy her back to us once more, when again she madly rushed toward us, but as quickly bounced away without giving us a shot. Soon we came upon the black glossy prize lying beneath a tree that had fallen across an old logging road. The cub had run over three hundred yards after having been shot through the lower half of his heart. Most animals that rush toward you do not have the courage to attack, and nearly all quail and turn away at the steady look of the eye when one stands firm and faces them. And now my young sportsmen, if such you are, may I tell you that at a time like this you will be as cool as if you were going to shoot a rabbit, for it is something that clears your brain of everything else but that steady shot. You will forget to quake with fear or tremble at danger. Not that we would for a moment counsel you to seek for any dangerous chances ; on the contrary always have it in mind that you should always seek to avoid them. But should you meet them in a case like this, the first chill of fear you may have vanishes as quickly as you percieve the angry eyes looking in your own. It flashes to you instantly that you surely must now try titles as to which is the superior, man or brute. And quicker than I can write one word of this little hunt, if you know your rifle and have it ready for the shot, your nerves are as if like iron, your rifle, even if usually heavy, now comes up like a feather weight, seeming to steady itself just on the level line, while your bullet crashes right through the T 7 1 w - The Aroostook Woods. brain, just where you are sure to aim, and your would-be enemy drops and quivering dies in its very tracks. Then perhaps, when all seeming danger is passed, the trembles may come for a moment when you could hardly shoot a chickadee with fine bird shot. TRAPPING THE OTTER. BLACK and shining as an otter, is an expression often used, and it comes to mind when on our cruisings we occasionally see him upon the banks of pure white snow beside the stream. His fur is of the finest and most valuable. We believe he is the handsomest fellow to a trapper's think- ing, of the whole furry tribe. The trapper is always much elated to find one in his trap, when it is set upon the land, his beautiful fur showing its fine silky richness, as he rolls over, doubles up and twists about. Long, strong and a very supple animal, low set upon his short and strong legs, of the firmest build altogether and very heavy for his size, it takes a thorough made trap to hold him, especially if caught upon the land. The swivel must work free and he must have a chance to swing around in, quite a little space, or in his gymnastic performance he may twist himself free from the trap if he is a large one. As it is now, we will say, just the time for their fur to be getting dark and rich, nearly prime, we will take the canoe and paddle down to minnow brook and set two or three traps. There are indications of rain, which is what we like imme- I 2 4 The Aroostook Woods. diately after setting the traps for otter. In the first, we will open the jaws of our traps here on the shore and have them ready to place "on arriving at the brook, as we wish to tramp about as little as possible upon their chosen play ground, for they are keen scented fellows and it takes but a little disturb- ance to cause them to desert a play ground for a time. Take the light hunting axe and the water pail, which we shall need to dip the water to wet our tracks above, upon their play ground, after setting the traps there, and this will wash down any scent left behind us. We require no stakes to drive down to hitch to, as this is a dead fast, which is not a good plan in trapping any animal. They should have a chance to move around instead of being assisted by a dead fast to pull or twist out. Arriving at the little brook and the otters' sliding chance, we see that they have been playing upon the ground quite lately, as along each side of the slide (which here is only ten or twelve feet, extending from their playground to the water) we see little sticks, twigs, leaves and moss which have been recently brushed aside by their breasts and their fore legs under them as they go scooting down from their playground upon the elevation, plump into the water at times, and just for fun apparently. Then in going back up the bank to the top again, they walk around to one side, seldom if ever, climbing up by the smooth place they have made in scooting down, but choosing the easier road around, often sliding down in quick succession, then back one after the other, having a romp with each other upon the elevation, then walking to the head of the down grade, place their fore legs immediately underneath and slide down upon knees and breasts as before. We will drop down below their works before landing and Trapping the Otter. 125 do our chopping- where it will not be seen by them, cut our spruce poles six or eight feet long and the proper size, to slip the ring of the chain over the larger end of the pole. Now slip on the rings and wedge or wire them securely. Having them all ready to place, we will walk well around and approach the slide from the back of their works at the top of their mossy knoll. High ! their works show they have lots of fun up here ; only see the little dry sticks broken up fine, moss, leaves and turf clawed up in little heaps. We will reach over upon their playing spot, here at the rear, cut out a square place for the trap and place it bearing solid and level with the upper surface. Lay the pole down with the newly cut end hidden by moss, and tie the small and and outer end securely to a small tree, or stand it up beside one, fastening the upper end, giving them a good chance to swing around when caught. Shake over the trap to cover nicely, moss and leaves from their own works, break a bunch of boughs for a whisk, and from the pail of water sprinkle all most thoroughly, and step back wetting all tracks we have made handy by, and we are ready to place the other traps in nearly the same manner, again well around, and approaching near the head of the slide, place a trap on the playground within a foot of the slide, beginning in the same manner as before. And now, if his roundabout path is plain to be seen, showing as well, just where he leaves the water, to walk up to the top, then set the trap just where he stops swimming, and walks to land ; placing the trap a trifle to one side of his path, as his legs are wide apart, and have a little forethought as to rise and fall of water, which would depend upon the weather. A Xo. 4 trap is good to place here, in the water upon the 126 The Aroostook Woods. shore, for though seeming heavy, when No. 3 would proba- bly hold most any otter, this is heavy and drowns them as soon as they plunge to deepest water which they always will do. But if a light trap is used, a rock may be attached to the chain, to keep the otter under water. Set all traps bear- ing level, always. Sometimes one must dig out a little for them, and nearly always we find it necessary to place a flat stone or a piece of bark beneath one of the jaws to insure against its tipping when the animal does not step plump upon the pan of the trap. Have a pole attached to the ring of the chain, the same when set in the water, as upon the land, and perhaps longer, when the water may be shoal. This may be laid along the edge of the stream upon the shore, the end fastened, allowing free chance for the otter to plunge out to deep water, when he quickly drowns. Again, say it is very cold weather, and all is frozen over and we can see no signs of the otter above water, but you remember having seen at the mouth of some brook, even if a very small one, perhaps, where they were passing up and down when it was not frozen and it was out of season for catching them. This they are often doing beneath the ice as well, often crowding in at the mouth of a brook, where there seems little room for a mink. Cut out the ice here in the best place you can decide upon, making a hole large enough to work in handy, and place the trap nearly in his passing way, which is midway for the small channel cf the brook, as he is aiming for the centre of the stream and its deepest water; push down a few dry sticks, chance permitting, upon each side of the trap to guide him directly over it, arranging to have the trap in water deep enough, so that when freezing over again there will yet be sufficient room for the otter to Trapping tii e Otter. i 27 pass easily over the trap. And for this chance for setting the trap, have a pole small enough for the ring to slip from its top to the bottom of it, where there should be left, a stub of a branch to keep it from slipping off entirely. Push the pole down beside the trap expecting it to freeze in, yet tie the top end in case of a thaw. Often a chance is seen where they can be caught upon the land when crossing from one stream to another separated by short distances, or leaving a small stream when approaching its outlet and travelling across a point of land, rather than follow its further windings, swimming among, and over tangled roots and low growing alders. Tracing their path from this stream to the most suitable level spot, we may lay two old logs at right angles, one upon each side of their path for a fence, leaving just room enough between the ends for the trap and three inches to spare, in order to have the pan of the trap a little to one side. Upon the logs lay on some old brush the length of them. Coming to this they wrinkle their nose and snuff for danger, but scent nothing after a rain, and as they dislike to climb over if they can crawl under or walk through, they keep on right over the trap, thinking it is all right as the}' are frequently meeting with blow downs on their travels. Here also they must have a chance to swing round, or the tip-up, or spring-pole must be arranged for them as for the fisher. The otter have been known to catch and eat our wild ducks, both young and old, and are fond of the young musquash, as we have seen at different times on a still water stream, ample proof of their eating them, upon their playing places and fishing chances, on the points of the stream, usually upon the opposite side to the mnskrats' grounds. 128 The Aroostook Woods. It is a simple thing for this supple fellow, that can swim down the trout so easily, to slide into the water from his fish- ing point and swimming well down underneath, rise and seize a wild duck by its legs, drag it under, and return to his point below, or hidden in the bushes, make a fine meal from its meat for a change. Its sleeping chance is often near the little falls or rapids, where the water remains open nearly all the winter, though it finds ample chances for a cosy night's lodging when on its travels, beneath the roots of the old stubs and large dead trees along the banks of the quick water streams. It is frequently in winter making journeys from one quick water to another, striking across through the woods, over the shortest and most direct way, and arriving exactly on the line to the noisy rapid. Sometimes straight over the ridges, in place of winding around, although it is a very poor climber up hill. If the snow is not deep enough at such a time for him to dive under and hide away from you, or escape, he may be caught on ascending or level ground, but he gets away lively when on the down grade, as he knows how to slide down hill to perfection, leaving the pursuer far behind, though at his best gait. When the lakes and streams are frozen over and the weather is cold, he is under the ice and often on his beat, even then ; and fishing as he goes, coming to the ice often to renew his breath when between chances for landing beneath the ice, often travelling a piece beneath the banks of snow and ice where it is raised up, or a passage for him when the water has fallen off from the stream, giving him even dry chances, and room enough to run about at will, hidden from our view in the coldest weather. But he is soon out again and upon the surface of the snow and ice early on a warm morning, and during the middle part of warm, sunny Trapping the Otter. 129 days, making journeys and playing outside during and after mild snow storms, yet always getting safely under before it freezes, seeming to know just where he can push through to open water beneath the snow. Well along in the month of March, in the Aroostook valley, when we have frequent light falls of snow and occasional warm rains, the waters beneath the ice, even, take a change for the warmer, and the sun running higher giving us more warmth again, shining brightly down upon the ice with much power, just at the edge of the stream, which maybe protected from the north by a high bank of snow, yet crusted over, but very friable, then and there (upon the still water streams) the first strip of open water glistening in the sunlight, shows itself. At night, as very often, comes another light fall of the soft, fleecy snow, and early in the warm sunny morning following, the glossy otter is here to be seen, for it is one of his favorite fishing chances, just below the deep snow drifted rips, which are almost ice bound upon the rocky, pebbly, sandy bottom. And the otter is quick to descry the first light of the spring shining down in his long winter home. He sits upon the bank with his head raised, attentively watch- ing the sunny opening, his black coat shining, in such striking contrast with the white snow all about him, it is not strange he is called the bright and shining otter. He is watching the opening, knowing well this to be the place the trout love to winter in, near the warm, spring water which is constantly oozing in below the bank. They are here surely, and have been lying dormant for awhile, partly hybernating at times, lying just beneath the sediment on the bottom, with nose and eves just pushed a little out to view ; and as one of them, who has also felt the warmer change (but a few minutes too early. 130 The Aroostook Woods. alas,) wriggles out to view, the otter slides into the stream smoothly and without a sound, quickly re-appearing with a fine speckled beauty, which is writhing and flopping in his mouth ; and as he now lies at full length upon the bank, play- ing with the prize before crunching its head and eating it, he is a picture which one will remember. IN THE VELVET. MUCH no doubt has been written, giving more complete information than I shall give in regard to the deer and caribou shedding their antlers each year, and the new ones coming on again in the spring and growing so fast, at the first, being covered with the velvet, so called, which is a short, fuzzy, velvety hair, covering the antlers until well grown. This is of a rather pretty, dark brown color, giving the buck's head an odd look at first glance. The fact of their shedding their horns every winter is often questioned, and even disputed, by many unacquainted with these animals, declaring it would be impossible for them to grow such a set of antlers in one summer. One will ask you, why is it that in his travels through the woods in summer and fall of the year, he does not find the horns lying upon the ground? This is easily accounted for, as the woods are full of mice, and perhaps but few would believe what endless numbers there are ; and the wood mouse is not hibernating, for no matter how cold or how deep the snow lies upon the ground, he is almost con- stantly running about beneath the snow in his numberless paths, feeding upon the plants, roots and the seeds from the 132 The Aroostook Woods. trees ; and all through the winter, as we have the mild changes with warmer nights, their tracks and paths are seen in the morning running in every direction over the light snow, outside again. The horns falling off early in winter and being covered with snow, they are made soft from the dampness, and the little fellows scenting them, scarcely ever leave a parti- cle of the choice nibbling behind. In the spring and summer the new set is growing on again, very fast indeed, and at the first the bucks rather seclude themselves some place in the woods, or keep mostly upon the meadows and barrens, away from thickets and low growing branches, as the newly grow- ing horns are very hot, soft and sensitive to any little touch or hurt. We have occasionally seen them while in the velvet. A gentleman of Portland, Maine, and the writer, on our way fishing one morning, as we stepped out of the woods upon a barren, saw standing directly in front of us, not eight rods away, a line buck caribou, his horns in the velvet. He was apparently not at all disturbed, and we had a tine view of him. lie very likely heard us coming and had waited to see what was abroad so early in the morning. With his head turned toward us standing broadside to us, he looked inquisi- tive for half a moment, then looked up the barren. At that moment he was a picture not to be forgotten ; with nothing to obstruct our view but the wet mosses (green, red and brown) growing just above his black polished hoofs. His antlers, or rather the two main ones, were nearly the full length ; from these had grown the hand shaped parts or palms, and the stubbs only, the many sharp points to come from these, not showing as yet, and all were fully covered with the velvet. Later on, the antlers having their growth, or nearly so, no doubt an itching at their base is the cause of the caribou rub- In the Velvet. !33 bing them up and down the small trees. In this manner also, they clean off the remaining old velvet. For this purpose they choose very small trees, from one to two inches through. These trees are frequently seen along the sides of the ridges, polished up, stripped of branches and bark, up to where if is too small to be of use to them, while beneath, lying loosely about, and close to the body of the tree where it had fallen, a little pile of the old velvet usually may be seen. At times we see a larger tree used for the same purpose. One in par- ticular we remember of seeing quite lately — an ash with very rough bark, some four inches through, cleaned off higher up than usual, while beneath lay upon the ground quite a hand- full of the velvet. This we concluded to be a moose, though possibly it might have been Jumbo, the wary buck caribou we had seen at times (for a moment only). Again, with regard to their rubbing their horns and polishing them against the trees. It is said that at times you can call them handy to you by imitating these sounds. This can be done in the fall after they have rubbed off the velvet and the antlers are most fully hardened. The buck at this time is in fine condition, travelling with high head about the ridges anxious for a fight ■with the first one of his like that dare invade his chosen stamping grounds. Catching a sight of his rival through the trees, or imagining he might be coming up over the ridge, he approaches a small tree in that direction, and with head down, claws up the leaves and earth, throwing it far out behind him, often stopping for a moment to cast an angry glance from his blazing eye up the ridge, stamping the ground ; and again often noisily striking his horns with glancing blows against the tree and its branches, making a noisy circus at this, his bravest time of the year, when usually he is timid, roaming 134 The Aroostook Woods. the forest so quietly. That they can be called by glancing blows upon the small beeches, in imitation of the buck, we have proven in several instances, and at one time quite unintention- ally. We were camping upon the upland among the hard wood trees (the captain and the crew). The captain stepped a little away from the tent to cut a few beech wood stakes, and had been chopping but a short time when he heard a caribou give a low call, or greeting, but seeing nothing so near as the sound appeared to be, he resumed the chopping, when again the greeting was heard, too plainly not to be noticed. Looking, he saw a female caribou walking leisurly toward him two or three steps at a time, stopping within three or four rods of him, looking earnestly at him, probably astonished at his appearance, perhaps wondering what kind of a buck she had found. She stood quietly, until the captain spoke to the crew in the tent, saying, "bring the rifle," when she walked back a few steps, stopped, turned about once more, speaking to him in caribou dialect, at the same time taking another step or two toward him, then around a small thicket of evergreens, again approaching to within five or six rods as if to satisfy fully her great curiosity. Seeing the second party creeping from the tent toward her, she concluded three was not company and trotted away several rods, turned facing us, looked an instant for the last time toward our whereabouts, and disappeared. A little breeze was ever blowing from her to us during this time, but had it been from opposite directions we could not have told you this. We remember several instances when the caribou have come walking or trotting directly to us, or to within a few rods of where we were standing, and stop quickly in their tracks, then, as if greatly surprised, or a little frightened at In the Velvet. 135 our looks, turn off to one side, trotting a few steps away, stop and look again curiously toward us, often presenting a good chance for a shot. So there are times when the large game make directly toward you in the woods when least ex- pected. Not often to attack, however; yet we cannot deny [that ivc have often been told) that one must be wide awake and quick to act at times. Out of a great curiosity, as we have said, or seeing a movement from us in the bushes, when the wind is breezy from them toward us, they suppose it to be one or more of their own kind, and straight toward us, come trotting up for an interview. For even if strangers, the caribou, when they sight each other in their wanderings, we think they most always step up and say good morning, even without any previous introduction. At one time, two of us cruising the ridges for a caribou,, came suddenly • upon a doe and a two year old buck. The doe ran to leeward of us, the buck to the windward. So we tried a little strategy with the buck ; instead of following him directly, we walked briskly along for a number of rods on his line of travel, but keeping a little higher up on the ridge, and thinking we had given him a chance to again sight us, we stepped still farther away and sat down in a small thicket of evergreens. The ground thickly covered with the dried leaves and the wind blowing favorably, we soon heard the buck's steady trotting toward us as he rustled through the leaves, and knew that he had caught sight of, or heard us as we passed to the thicket. We could see nothing of him whilst coming, but distinctly heard his steady trot, louder and nearer, until he quickly stopped within rive rods of us, with- out taking a walking step. We were sitting side by side upon the same log, while he was now standing as motionless i }(> The Aroostook Woods. as ourselves, with head and neck and the upper part of his back and hips hidden by the firs, but his shoulders and a part ut walking out into our little clear- ing all brightens out again for awhile from the sun beauti- fullv painting all the lower western sky with its most brilliant and soft mellow tints of red and gold, smiling a bright promise for the next to-morrow. A few tired steps from the spruces are taken and we are standing at the door of our cosy camp, hanging up the rifles that had grown to be rather heavy for the last mile. But an hour from this, after a warm hearty supper (which hardly ever gives the tramp bad dreams) we have forgotten our weariness and shall be just as anxious in the morning following, to again cruise over their favorite haunts, seeking an interview with one of line antler-. And again in the morning after having breakfast and tidy- ing up the camp, we could not resist the longing that seems ever to come to us in the bright days with the greater power. Though these would be considered cold, uncomfortable days to those outside in the large clearing, or riding oyer the hills, here in the deep woods where the winds are kept above the lower limbs, sweeping over the tops only with much power, while the sun finds its way under and down between the trees and branches, seeking out all those quiet chances, lighting up the trunks and lower limbs until they smile again from its grateful warmth, here a greater part of many days in winter it is glorious. So the lunch is put up, as it has been so many times before, that we seem to have it ready in the lunch bag and oyer our shoulder, without it haying required any think- ing over at all or disturbing our planning out our course. Out to the midst of the wildwood we go along, with the sunshine among the trees, down the south-west trail, spotted or blazed with the axe mark upon the trees for miles, which as i }S The Aroostook Woods. we have said, in dark days or stormy weather comes in so handy if you wish to hasten along, and when we strike these spotted trees in our wanderings it seems like rinding true friends. Here after travelling a mile or so, we again see the tracks of our itinerant friend, the buck, still true to his course to the south. We follow it as it leads over the ridge on our route. For a long way he picks his path where the wood is most open, which is like them, if not hurried; then coming to the thick swamp he dislikes the tangle as well as ourselves and takes advantage of an old lumber road leading westerly. Down this he moves along in even, measured steps, showing he is journeying (not feeding along slowly) and is keeping the roadway beside the swamp until hard wood and open growth appearing, he turns south once more, up and over another ridge of open hard wood growth. lie is keeping on his way to the large south barren some miles beyond, as is to be seen by his always turning again in that southerly direc- tion, after passing beside or around the rough chances ; also by his not stopping to take a bite from the young growth or stepping aside at any place, to teed upon the moss he is pass- ing. And thus they wander, from one bleak barren to another, preferring the moss that grows upon the dwarfed trees, and the moss, lichen and many plants growing at their feet, as they travel over these always moist, boggy places, and in going their rounds, vary but little each time in their course, excepting to pass upon one side of a ridge or swamp on one trip, and the next time choosing its opposite. Satisfied the buck is not a stranger on our hunting grounds and having his feeding places and route of travel to and fro. Well located, we shall remember him among our neighbors, remembering his stately head and tine horns, as entitling him Looking for Antlers. 149 to our respect and further notice, and not forgetting the size and trim shape of his aristrocratic foot, we shall be often looking for the print of it in the snow, and endeavor to gain a better acquaintance with him some time when lie ma\ pass over our stamping grounds. Standing upon the end of the ridge and looking down the steep descent in the direction of and listening, we catch the sound of the laughing gurgle of the mountain brook, and down we step for luncheon. Luncheon time in the depth of the wildwood, after an easy going stroll of a few miles over the hills through the pure bracing air, brings an appetite to be envied and we would not trade our seat to-day beside the brook, for one at the best hotel. Sitting beside this merry little stream which never fails us. and is always having a lively song whenever we have called upon it, as its waters are hastening on their way, leap- ing down over the dark, mossy rocks, then straight along by the big pine log. into, and overflowing the small pool, and on down to the little fall which makes the music so inviting to all that hear it calling, when it bobs up and down in a few tiny rolling waves, and goes on zigzagging in and out, and again down among the alders, where the lively school of small baby trout have all hastened upon seeing our shadows darkening the pool. And here lies the old down hollow pine, covered with snow to-day, but its dry inside is yet the favorite race track of the happy squirrels, that only stop a moment from their play to eye us, then barking, again dart in and out as merrily as before being disturbed. And upon the old pine log below the breeze, and with the sunshine warm upon us. we have our luncheon, sitting upon a goodly armful of fir boughs which, as we break them from the trees beside us. they as i^o The Aroostook Woods. ever and always, shed their sweet fragrance on the air. The sun shining down upon us in such well sheltered situations, so warm and quiet, it is like another climate compared to the ridge's top, and often if to determine as to the wind yet blow- ing, we must look above at the tops of the evergreens, or watch if the long, gray moss streamers hang quiet in the sunshine, or gaily wave and point at times steadily down to leeward. Sitting down to luncheon beside the little brook again, as often before, with its ever pleasant music in our ears, and in such harmony with all around us, we taste its waters pure and sweet, again and again, and cannot say it nay when its happy laughing music is ever calling us. And now as no unwary buck has had the audacity to intrude himself upon our quiet during the dinner hour, we look carefully, as we have many times already, up and down the ravine and upon the upland beyond, and seeing no antlers pushing out toward us from beneath evergreens, in shady nooks or sunny spots, we now step over and leave behind our little mountain brook singing cheerily to the trees and the squirrels, and moving over the rise, cross the dry rocky run and climb the ridge, following it easterly for a long way. As the sun, which has been our warm friend and bright pleasant company, all the while with us until now, is reach- ing toward his wraps, we take the broad hint, and turning with much of his warm smile yet upon us, present our left cheek to him as we travel northerly through the open growth of hard woods direct to camp. Soon after this comes several days of cold and snowy weather, the snow drifting upon and sifting in and completing our bough banking around the camp walls, and through the night the line hail is often pattering against our north and Looking for Antlers. east windows. But boreas and his attendants are so effect- ually boughed and banked out, that his music as it reaches us even in its loudest long strain is only to us, in our warm camp and quiet dreams, the wildwood lullaby, over and over again. Looking out one morning and finding two feet of the pure white snow pretty evenly distributed all about us. in spite of the wind, the last two or three inches upon the top mostly hail, the weather now moderating and raining softly, we exclaim, "now for the snow-shoes," for only a slight rain and a still cold night is needed to enable us upon the snow-shoes, to step away with long strides and springy steps, over the down trees, logs, underbrush and tangle, either over the ridges or through the swamps. Not just yet awhile, for the rain holds out as well as did the snow, and after it has, with the warm air, taken it nearly away, then comes the cold weather and freezes the balance, making another crusty, crunching bottom, not fit for tracking on account of the crackling sounds beneath your feet. A few days of pleasant weather, not warm enough to melt away this old crust however, and in the afternoon we note the wind is east at times, when just at night comes the welcome snow. In the morning we have three or four inches, as light as feathers, and if it would remain like this, it would be splendid still hunting, for this very soon softens the crusty bottom and you can creep along without noisy steps and their echoes, which if you hasten, gives out an almost constant roaring sound, to notify all within hearing of your approach. But it is \et snowing in the morning at times. The bushes and boughs are again loaded, and the air is growing thick and heavy, yet we start out thinking it a pretty good day after all for business with a buck, for the snow, while falling much The Aroostook Woods. impedes their seeing any distance, while the heavy atmos- phere keeps back the scent of yon. Getting out to the spruces, we find the east wind breezing up rather lively and too much against the chances for getting a shot while walking westerly, the course we must travel for the game we are looking for, but as we have an errand at the camp of the hunters two miles in that direction, we conclude however, to strike first for that locality. On the way over the trail we cross fresh tracks of single deer wandering along, but not wanting one particularly, do not follow. The snow ceases entirely and the sun adding its power everywhere, it is now melting and dropping from the evergreens. Just before reaching the camp of the hunters, the tracks of a cow carilion with her calf walking beside her, are also passed oxer. Taking" a very early dinner with the boys, at their earnest invitation (just to please them) and praising their really excellent baked beans, warm biscuit and smoking hot gingerbread, we picked up our rifles and hurried away over our back tracks. By this time the snow was melting down fast, and contin- ually dropping from off the trees, and the tracking was elegant. Passing over the tracks of the two caribou, I noticed they had nearly disappeared from the sun shining so warm upon them. And in walking over the high land beyond, just upon the higher part, when within a few steps of the spot where our pretty buck of the barren had crossed ten days before, 1 came to a halt, for I had blazed a small tree one upon each side of his former track, and lo, between the same two trees a fresh track showed, so lately made, that I looked long and carefully in the direction the toes pointed before moving, and then stepping up to it, softly whispered, Looking for Antlers. 153 "•Eureka," for he had taken exactly what I was now sure was his usual path, and was heading for the north barren. II is trim shaped track corresponded every way with those we had examined upon the pond, and he had passed over the trail, certainly not twenty minutes before my coining, for the upper edge of his tracks were yet clean cut and perfect, while all else around was melting and dissolving from the warmth. ••Well, let's see; a quarter of twelve. Matches: Yes. Axe? No — it's at the camp. But I can break cedar limbs. Pipe and tobacco? Yes. Looks like more rain any time soon, and no moon. Compass? Sure! Gracious! had a good dinner anyway." And all this time while soliloquizing, I am creeping through the bushes and between and under- neath the trees beside his tracks, looking near, and far ahead between the dripping trees, and when it offers, having a large tree in line to creep to and stop beside it a moment, but only using time enough to look well to each side and ahead, then on. depending upon my eyes altogether, as the sounds from the breaking of sticks, if any, would reach but little way such a day, and they so wet. But contrary to my calculations, and apparently the aforesaid buck is not going very straight for the barren, for the sun is shining on my left now as I follow, and should the east wind again breeze up fresh and strong, I shall see a clean pair of heels in the air most likely. Still I am tramping on, hoping for all kinds of chances in my favor, though it lo The Aroostook Woods. Erom broiled venison, yel some few prefer the former. And there are mam, knowing of their cleanliness and of what the} eat, who are not at all fastidious about broiling and eatiner the fine savory saddles of the yearlings, whenever opportunity offers. At this, as a son of Erin has remarked, " Yees may smile — but, yees nade not." For a person unacquainted with, and eating il without knowing what it was, would pass his plate for "small piece o( the canvass bach, please." We remember many years since of a trip on the Mattawam- keag waters with a companion, the time being the early Indian summer (;is we always arranged to have it for a canoe trip in the fall, if possible) o\ Leaving the head oi Mattawam- keag lake at noontime, and oi trolling Eor pickerel on the way down to the foot, beside the coves thick with lilies and their pails, or leaves, so main large pickerel darting out, and with a splash seizing the spoon bait, that we soon left them to their freedom, and arriving early at the dam built across the Eoot of the lake, just at the head of the falls to camp for the night. And that below the dam the trout, and very large ones, were taking the tlv so beautifully that we very soon had full baskets and could wish no more. Then the next morning oi running the falls which we knew nothing of, except from hearsay, and wishing afterward "hearsay" had been of a former generation, when at noon- time we were delayed two hours longer than usual drying our clothes and blankets, and patching the canoe. But aside from this, which was really but a ducking after all, we enjoyed this day as well as ever a day in our lives: swiftly gliding down * J © c^» the west branch iA the Mattaw amkeag, mile after mile, sitting quietly watching the shores, noting the elegant deer glades with well trodden paths to the water, past the rocky walls, The Musquash. 161 then the rolling knolls, and soon the quick rising hills running straight up from the si ream toward the sky, where one could jump down sixty-five Beet from an evergreen plump into the river below (but he should not). Then swiftly sliding dow nw aid in the- stillness, past the merry lilt le brooklets, often hearing their purling music, bul rushing by with just a glimpse of them over our shoulder, and on down by the ledges, when voices from another and larger brook are calling. I Ipon our righl hand we hear Ehem, faintly at first, then quickly in louder tones, and as we grasp an alder to check the bark, we see the rocky mouth, and see its wild, laughing, dashing, noisy splashing, as it tumbles down the hill, over and between the rocks, and out before us, as we hold up and make fast to the bushes a few yards above its mouth ; for few could resist its tempting look and to drop a fly among the little snowballs of foam, and trail it through the white curved lines, rings and half circles that formed at its mouth and upon the pool, eddy- ing, and drifting out and downward with the current. Only a short time, however, did we tarry here at the rocky brook, for it seemed mean to catch them when we had what we could use in the warm weather; besides, "they count up fast," says my companion, "when you are playing two, to have a third one jump in the air and hook himself upon the rear fly, and then safely land them all," (which he did). Again on we go, soon leaving the long dead water behind and descending gaily down another racing rapid. Then pass- ing the east branch of the same name, which here joins the west, and we have passed entirely out of the beautiful forest to civilization, to a change — and so tame. Cow bells, fields, femes and sheep. Slow, sluggish water and a bridge ; our wild, fne and untamed spirits that we have been revelling in 1 62 The Aroostook Woods. are now low down ; we are now no more animated than the cowboy we see walking behind his charge. But after passing under the bridge over which runs the old military road, and then by the pretty little village nestling in the valley by the pleasant river, then a few scattering farms, and below we see again the welcome and enlivening forest, for which to reach and find a cosy camping chance beside one of our favorite babbling brooks, we actually exert our- selves for the first time since our ducking in the falls. The next day, far below by a clear brook on the long, still water, we came suddenly in view of the white tent of an Indian trapper. But now as we are coming to where, on this excursion, we met with a quiet, happy camping scene, that fitted in so well with the musquashing, may we be forgiven for taking the reader this roundabout road, hurrying" him over a part of this canoeing trip, when our plea is, we hoped to interest him, and if we could give him a part of the jolly fun and a good portion of the deep, quiet happiness, that at times we so much enjoyed and appreciated, we should be more than pleased. We came upon the camp along in the afternoon upon the west bank, beside the river. He, or rather they, as he had his two daughters with him, were out on their usual six or eight weeks hunting and musquashing trip. He seemed a fine old Indian. He had visited his traps in the morning and was sitting upon the sunny bank skinning his catch. In a tree before him he had driven a hook, such as tanners use, to hook up the skins from the vat. lie woidd cut through the thickest part of one's tail and hang it upon the hook ; then sticking a heavy brad awl through its nose, pull it down taut and fasten to the tree with the awl, thus keeping it in a The Musquash. 163 good position and giving him as good as three hands to work with, when he would skin one Aery quickly. Then taking a withy stick from a pile of hazel bush butts, about three or three and a half feet long, would bend it to fit, leaving one part six inches longer than the other, slip the hide over (turned inside out) use the long end below as a spreader, and it was ready for drying, and the market. Their tent was open, showing the inside very tidy, their washing hanging upon the trees. A small beech, with its branches lopped off was well decked out with bright tin dippers, pails, fry pan, etc., while beneath a thick spruce that had its branches trimmed off below, was sitting the quiet sister, her deft fingers rapidly moving, making beautiful fancy baskets, a number already finished hanging upon the green branches. The novelty of the scene was the girls ; comely, though they were brownies ; dressed alike, and at first as we stepped ashore at the father's invitation, we took them for twin Indian maidens, with bright, black eyes, hair black and shiny, braided, and the long, thick plaits hanging down over the scarlet shawls that were each fastened in front with a large silver brooch, from which were ever swaying, as they moved about, small chains with little charms attached, making altogether a bright picture, coming upon them in a moment, as we did, so unexpected, and the scene being quite unusual. What was a little unlooked for from our red brother as we stopped and saluted them all, was the invitation to land. "Spose stopum rest little time, brudder," (which we did) . They had been out two weeks, and asking the girls if they enjoyed camping and canoeing, one of them, her black eyes sparkling, "Oh yes," she answered, "guess me likum much; alius go wid fadder and take care of him ; cook, wash, 164 The Aroostook Woods. catchem trouts, too ;" and lively she chatted on for an Indian girl, doing all the talking for herself and quiet sister, who hardly said a word to us, but always had a pleasant smile for her cheery, laughing sister. One part of the make-up of this quiet camping scene has often come to mind when cooking musqua — beg pardon, when speaking of cooking the musquash. Half-way from the tent to the river, in a hollow place that Nature had formed, just perfect for the purpose, was driven three beech stakes, about five feet long, their ends withed together at the top, each slanting well out at the bottom. To these was hanging from a stout beech hook, withed on above, a small old-fashioned cooking pot, three-legged and round bottom. This, the lively girl remarked, had belonged to her two "grand fadders, and no breakum, long time velly." Beneath the fire was built in the true Indian style, the wood laid up to a peak, the small blaze immediately under the pot ; the tin plate for a cover was raising and falling with the ste-am, emit- ting a savory smell on the air, and we asked : "What are you cooking, brother?" "Oh, he musquash stew." "How do you make it?" "Oh, plently musquash, piece poke, onion, potato, cookum altogedder, velly long time, velly slow. No havum onion, go dig 11111 down shore," (meaning the small wild onion). "Sometime findum 'sheepnoc' putum him in too, he good." (Sheepnoc is the bulb of one of the wild lilies). "Say boys, spose you likum musquash stew, good; you stay eatum some?" We thanked him kindly and after examining his spruce bark smoke-house, nearly filled with partly cured saddles of Tiik Musquash. 16^ musquash, admiring it also, with which he was much pleased, we touched the tips of our ringers to our lips and waived an adieu to each of his rather pretty brownies, the one so grave and quiet, now frowning; the other so bright and pleasing, with a cheery smile for us to the last, as we stepped in our canoe and paddled on, down the Mattawamkeag. DOWN THE MATTAWAMKEAG. AT a settlers' new made clearing, On the rarely travelled highway ; Ends their night ride and their teaming, Just as it is breaking day. Then turn about the pretty ponies, Heading for their home again ; While two sporting, friendly cronies, Look about them for the lane. Now with knapsack, bag and blanket, Axe and rifle, and a store Of home-made bread, with pork and doughnuts, Hasten to the river shore. Down half a mile of grassy old road, 'Neath dewey boughs and dripping trees ; There laid down the heavy back load, Scolded by the screaming jays. Find they in the shady thicket, Roofed with bark, their birch canoe ; Half a year though they had left it, Still it was as good as new. Down the Mattawamkeag. 167 Soon upon the upmost branching Of the wildest Mattawamkeag; All was ready, then the launching, Each with paddle dips ahead. Down the narrow, rippling river, Every moment growing swifter ; Dewy alders dripping ever, All the way to open water. Yet a little while they now wait, At a clear and pebbly trout pool ; With enticing angle worm bait, Taking largest from the school. As the glorious sun is showing O'er eastern hill top, just above ; Leave behind the swiftly flowing, Paddling through pond lily cove. O'er the first broad water shining, In early sunlight, birds are singing; Speckled beauties often leaping, Close beside the wood-ducks feeding. Tarry once again, in hiding, At the brook for winter fishing ; Soon the wood-drake bv is swimming, Small the thought had he of dying. On bv meadow shores with writings, Speaking oft of musquash feedings Where the mink was lately fishing, And a point with otter slidings. 68 The Aroostook Woods. Hark ! they hear the waters rushing, Just below they hear the fall ; Just above a deer is crossing, Yet she lives to rear her fawn. The baby deer was just behind her, Fearing much to cross at all ; Then shied back to thicker cover. Hark ! hear its mother's whistling call. To escape the rapid's rock way, They must carry near a mile ; Which to them is only boy play, Chatting, marching, single file. Through the woodland and the meadows, A fourth the distance as by stream ; And they stand beside the rapids, On the west branch of the same. Here they boil the blackened kettle, Or its contents, all the same ; Eat their luncheon, not a little, Speckled beauties from the stream. Now with a coal light the smoke pipe, Then again their jolly quick flight; Down sunny waters, pretty sight, Through the rapids with delight. Down, down the ever flowing, Ever singing, never wean ; Gentle zephyrs softly blowing, While each cronie greets them cheery. Down the Mattawamkeag. 169 They enjoy their happy boating, On the waters swift and clear; Ever gaily downward floating, Till the lakeside does appear. By the right bank's quiet shade, Duplicated down below ; !By the glen and by the glade, Slowlv now the waters flow. w Then through the centre of the river, In the sunlight bright and clear, Dip their paddles, flashing ever, To the lake now drawing near. Now by the left bank, all is ripen, Hill and dale and downward incline, Decked in golden shades of autumn, Wrapped in gorgeous mellow sunshine. Lake Mattawamkeag ! quiet, still}, ( )Vr its broad waters just a ripple, As hv the cove and sweet pond lily, Trolling, caught the golden pickerel. Paddling on as breezes freshen From the southland soft and lightly ; Wavelets lifting up the bow end, On she dances, gay and sprightly. Past the coves and rocky islands, By the shores and leafy arches; All up the ridge is golden woodland, Down below are drooping larches. 170 The Aroostook Woods. Now a dam across the waters, Narrow waters at the outlet; Built by man and not by beavers, Flowing back to upper inlet. Many waters thus confining, Flowing every cove and jutting ; Held in check for spring-time driving, Of the lumber, — winter's cutting. Strong the dam, built with an incline, Rocky walls each side assisting ; With its gate to hoist at spring-time. When the lumbermen are sluicing. And the trout pool, 'neath the apron, Deep from water always pouring; Here thev find the choicest fishing. Jolly fine the chance for camping. In the cheerful earlv morning, Pleasant Indian summer time ; Thev are out to see the dawning, On the dam, with hook and line. Mists are rising from the river. Rosy is the eastern sky ; Few such mornings seldom ever. Happy hearts the reason why. Here in God's country, all are happy, Birds are singing everywhere ; Trout are leaping from the rapids, Squirrels chasing on the shore. Dowx the Mai tawamkeag. '7 1 Breakfast over, then the question, " Shall we carry by the falls?" " It is better, all's confusion, Jagged rocks, projecting walls." •• But they told us of a roadway Through the waters, by the jutting ;" "All serene, though that was hearsay, We can only get a ducking." Each one ready, keen and steady, Swift and lightly on they go, Flying downward o'er the maelstrom, Like an arrow from the bow. Steersman standing, set pole trailing, Calm and fearless, has a care ; With his paddle, bow man kneeling, Figures for an inch to spare. IIo ! the whirlpool, at the jutting, To swap horses, no time now ; Waters rushing, set pole snapping, Deluged is the stern and bow. IIo ! on the right hand see the big rock, All are jagged on the left, With scarce a passage for a wood-duck, Both now feel the birch bark rift. Now looking back, they see the right way, See the way they should have come through ; How they wish thev had old " hearsay " 1 1 itched behind their birch canoe. ij- Tin: Aroostook Woods. Well beyond the rocky raceway Shooting downward yet they go ; Then to shore beside the eddy To drain out the birch canoe. Now with spruce root neatly stitching While turned to the sun and drying ; Afterward a little pitching On again and swiftly flying. Far ahead see waters bonny Far behind the ••dam the jutting ; " Thus did joke the stern end cronie .VII recovered from his ducking. Shorter grow their moving shadows At the quiet hour of noonday ; Passing by the hill of echoes By the deer glade and their pathway. Now they hear the merry brooklet. Hear its murmuring, purling, running; Stop they here to broil the trontlet. Dry their blankets, have their luncheon. Sitting by the murmuring brookside Dinner over, scrape tomahwee ; Dry it on the heated rockside, Mix it half and half tobacco. Fill they then the calumet, Light it with a coal of hardwood ; Few there are so happily met As these cronies in the wildwood. Down the M vttawamkbag. f 73 Lovely day in Indian summer On the banks beneath the green tree ; A la mode de Indian dinner Fragrant smoke of half tomahwee, Which goes sailing out to midstream, Slowly moving skyward lazily; And above them in the evergreen Upward rising, curling, dreamily. |nst below a plover calling, Sand, peeps on the shore are bowing; Moose birds handy by are waiting For the pickings at the ending. \s oft before now dip they outward, Outward o'er the calm, still water; Always moving to the southward Always meeting new in nature. ( )n Mattawamkeag's upper river Currents vary, changing ever; Pleasure marring? none whatever! To its beauty adding, rather. Still\ waters, always charming, Leaping rapids, not alarming. Wicked rocks 'twere well avoiding, Always jolly if not harming. And lovely are its placid mirroi Where all is resting; quiet leaves, Tranquil waters, sleeping shadows, Trailing mo^cs wait the breeze. i74 The Aroostook Woods. Slowly drifting on such mirrors, Silent, quiet, dreamily thinking ; Oft come quickly little terrors, Then wide awake, to guard from sinking. Again they hear the rivulet, Music suited to the wildwood ; Oh, they never can forget The brooklets merry, singing mood. Ahead they see the snowy eddy White with little balls of foam ; "Hold the bark a moment, steady,*' " Skip your flies, then trail them home." Shipping's often out in midstream, See ! leaping gaily in the air ; The like of this not often seen, Trout are jumping everywhere. Leaping from the snowy eddy Ever willing to accept ; Always one or more are ready To come in from out the wet. Flip, flap, floppity, "High: Hold the net paid, I have two." "And the third one, ain't they spry?" " Let her go pard, that'l do." Swiftly gliding, much enjoying, Both sit gazing naught to do ; Paddle moving, simply toying Merely guiding the canoe. Down the Mattawamkeag. [75 Listen ! — Coming to join are other waters, Both are calling, both together Around the narrow point of alders Soon embracing each the other. Leave behind the pleasing wildwood, All is tame around them here ; Just before them bridge and stage road, Cow bells tinkling by the mere. Civilization thus approaching Breaks the charm of forest roving: ; When sheep instead of deer are feeding, Hie they quickly by the clearing. Paddling by the pretty village Nestling in the sunny valley, Salute the prude upon the bridge, Now again their spirits rally. For below them plainly showing They see the forest once again ; In the sunshine mellow, glowing, Dip the paddles, steady strain. Welcome, wild and pretty forest, Once again they greet thee cheerily, All so fully filled with interest Well they love thy pleasing harmony. Now floating down the long, still water, Close to shore, they hear the streamlet, And with its song a maiden's laughter, Low and rippling as the brooklet. 176 The Aroostook Woods. Brook and maiden sins: together Laughing, singing maid and brooklet ; The cronies gaze one to the other Wondering had the faries met. Dipping outward from the shadows The fairy camp was all in view ; An Indian with two comely daughters Tent and fire and birch canoe. An Indian trapper and his daughters Camping by the charming river, Trapping musquash on its waters Each one helping one another. Slightly startled were the brownies, Not a whit disturbed the father. As just glancing to the maidens Asks, "will stop you rest my brudder?" Singing daughter, smiling, pleasing, They much admiring happy camping ; The father cordially inviting, Cronies step out at the landing. Find they there a happy grouping. "Laughing Water" musquash cooking; A quiet sister basket making, Dear old fader musquash skinning. Each maiden wore a shawl of scarlet Fastened each with brooch of silver Which " Laughing Water" says "is much old, Cause once belonged to two "rand mudder." Down the Mattawamkeag. 177 Cross and charms hang from the breast pin, Hear and beaver, Indian totem ; Pendants tinkling at each turning, " Laughing Water" often shook them. Quiet sister 'neath the shade tree, Prettiest baskets hang above her ; Her downcast eyes they seldom see, Her heart is with her Indian lover. 44 Laughing Water," quite bewitching Sits gaily chatting with a cronie ; Tell's him of her jolly fishing, Speaks lovingly of sister brownie. And often laughing with the brooklet, Her merry words are ever flowing ; While cronie with his ready wit Delights to keep the music going. While the father tells a cronie Much about his trapping, hunting, When he was in his prime and hardy, And of the deer, in winter herding. Of how he caught for winter use More'n any udder Indian man ; Deer and musquash, big bull moose, Dried and smoked the pemican. •• Laughing Water" nods to father As the cronies rise to leave them — • • Spose my brudders stop to supper, Likeum musquash, you much welcome." 1 7S The Aroostook Woods. But the sun now in the far west With their camping yet to do, Kindly thank him for his goodness Step on board their birch canoe. ''Laughing water," with her father Standing by them on the shore, To the last they merry find her Asking cronies, "come some more." Salute the girls, good bye to fader As they dip to dip ahead, Another smile from " Laughins: Water," Then, down the shadowed Mattawamkeag STILL HUNTING, DEER TRACKING. AFTER a storm is the best time to look for a deer, as the tracks show plainer for us to follow if after a rain storm, and if snow, one knows just how freshly made. Besides he has been lying by in the swamp, beneath the thick ever- greens, feeding but little during the storm, and is now hungry, and will travel slowly, feeding longer at his stopping places. He loves to wander around the foot of the ridges next the swamps, rinding the browse more thrifty and plenty, and is handy to his favorite brook. Now this morning, if we would get one, we will start out real early, for he is up himself at daylight and already on his tramp whilst we are eating our breakfast. If not pretty sure of one quite handy, let us take our luncheon and a very light hunting axe, matches and our compass, always, for we are not sure of the sun remaining all the day out to guide us. We will travel against the wind all we can, keeping it in our faces as much as possible, then if we find fresh tracks going to windward we are pretty sure of a shot. Here the leaves have been disturbed and are turned wet side up, and beneath we find the print of his foot ; there, it is Deer Tracking. iSi plainer as his foot pushed a leaf down, the edges standing up like a cup, and now here in the soft earth is the full print of his foot ; we will keep on this course as it is his line of travel ; we see fresh bitings, and there he has actually stopped to feed a few moments. If the sun is shining out, an occasional glance toward it will keep our reckoning ; if not, we must refer often to the compass, to have the course we are travel- ling always in mind, so at the end of the hunt we can tell readily what our course must be to return. A deer at his ease, and feeding along, moves slowly and quietly ; we should do the same rather than hurry or make any sudden movements. And now let us not shoot a brother hunter, and in fact we think no person should shoot at anything in the woods, when he sees something moving, until he is sure it is the game. It would be better to never shoot a deer than to have a lifelong regret. Ninty-nine times out of one hundred, if it is really the deer we see moving we k?zow it is a deer and are sure of it. So there seems no excuse whatever for the man that shoots at random, saying, I thought it a deer. If we get in sight of one and are so unlucky as to jump him before getting in our shot, we will not give it up altogether, for he, perhaps, only saw something odd, and likely never before saw a man in his life, and will have the curiosity to get another look at us. He often runs away a piece and stops hidden in a handy thicket on the knoll, where he can look back as we follow. Seeing such a cover, and knowing his style of manouvering, and his watching to see what we are, coming after him on only two legs, we do not gratify him by going straight to him, to see him kick out and run off again, but make a detour and circling around out of his sight, keep- i S3 The Aroostook Woods. ioor th e wind of him (or certainly not allowing him to have it from us,) and come upon him from another quarter, and get a shot whilst he is looking earnestly toward our last whereabouts. Now we will not miss looking such chances carefully over, if he has not had the wind of us, for he will stop most always in some thicker chance, and much prefers high knolls when he can look over the ground. If not seeing him at first we should get a good position behind a tree large enough to hide us and wait and watch a little, listening too, for if a brave buck and he sees us, he is often now stamping his foot in anger at being approached. And again at times he may take quite a run, and sometimes circles around himself, to see, or smell for us. Even after the second or third wild jumping, their curiosity has been known to often be the death of them. But if he once gets a good sniff of you from the breeze he will telegraph this to you by blowing his whistle, and this always means a good long run away and we must seek another's track. He is on foot by daybreak, and feeding from nine to twelve, when he most always lies down to sleep awhile in the warmest part of the day, and takes a sunny chance on the leeward side of a thicket, or a sunny knoll where he will lie with his eye on his tracks at the first, as if watching for danger from something following them. Coming to such a chance, if tracking over snow, you sometimes can read his programme quite a piece ahead of you by his tracks, as he always stops a moment, looks back, and taking a step or two each way, will look to all the points of the compass to see if any danger lurks near his ruminating chance, sometimes stepping back on his tracks a rod or two to make doubly sure of his safety before Deer Tracking. 1S3 lying down. Seeing this writing on the snow 3011 step back- ward and sly away out of his sight, remarking as you do so : ''now if I had my duck gun and buck shot you might jump as high as you please, and I should take you on the fly." But you walk right away from him as if gone, and marking the very spot you know he lies in, by some tree or clump of them, circle around and use all your strategy to see him before he sees you, and not give him the wind of yon. He is dozing, one eye half open, and is always most too quick " o' hearin ; ' and when first seen it is often with his head down, pitching for the lowest hollow at the first jump, his black heels and white tail are seen in the air once or twice and he is gone. Or if you are below him and he must run up the hill, he will bounce from right to left as if to dodge the bullet. If you do not down him, note his range, again try the detour plan, w r atching keenly to see him first if possible. After tracking a deer over the light snow from early morn- ing until eleven o'clock, I came in sight of a thicket of young fir trees into which the track was leading, when just ahead of me and within three or four rods I saw he had been back as usual to look around before lying down, leaving three tracks with the one I had been following. Knowing he was very handy, I took a step to one side to get out of his eight, when immediately I saw him jumping away through the evergreens. I had approached a little too near and he had heard or seen me. Following his jumps until he commenced his walking, I moved away to the right far enough to be surely out of h:s sight and then hurried on the same way he was going for a good piece, and again struck up to look for his track. After passing away by his probable line of travel, I was satisfied I was ahead of him, and turning down again I found his tracks 1 84 The Aroostook Woods. and saw he had turned back toward his sleeping chance. Pretty well assured this walking back again was curiosity, and that he evidently would return to this course, I sat down a little up the ridge in a thicket and took the chances of waiting for him. Presently far away I saw him through the open growth coming back with an easy gait, now satisfied the way was clear and that nothing was following him. Waiting until he was nearly opposite, one shot was fired, and he dropped in his tracks. To get a deer in this manner, in the proper season when they are fat and fine eating, is, we claim, the most sportsman- like and the most pleasurable, satisfactory way. But to kill them late in the winter, and even toward spring, when they become miserably poor from not being able to range about through the deep and crusty snow, often four and five feet deep in Aroostook, seems most too cruel and must prove to be really unsatisfactory when they come to eat the meat. When a rain comes upon these deep snows, wetting down three or four inches, then a still, freezing night, a crust is formed which bears up the pot hunter on his snow-shoes upon the top of it, while the deer with his sharp pointed feet, punches through at each jump. They are then started from their yard, or the few well trodden paths, and their first jumps are high and wild, being frightened fearfully by the yells of the crust hunters. They sink deep in the snow at each jump ; the sharp crust cuts like a knife, first chafing off the hair from the legs, then the flesh is cut, torn, and bleeding, and when they can go no further, they turn meekly toward their pursuers, and those eyes, so almost human, seem to ask plead- ingly for their life. This way of hunting them is cruel and is not as sports?nen do ; and there are but few extenuating Deer Tracking. 185 circumstances in such cases. If a settler, far from any market, with a family of little ones, sees their faces pale for want of such nourishment, goes beyond his field and brings in a deer, he is not to be condemned. If the trapper, far beyond civiliza- tion, finds his stock of food has run out through unforseen circumstances, and he can shoot down a deer or caribou, and takes care of it, consuming it for food, the law might also excuse him. But those fellows that start out for what they call fun, on the first suitable crust, find a family of deer confined to a few paths, over an acre or less of feeding ground, hemmed in by the sharp crust on the deep snow, growing poorer every day, being obliged to feed from the stumps of the sprouts from which they fed at the first of their yarding up, confined until they had eaten all their browse within reach, and now gnaw- ing the maple bark and even eating cedar boughs, perhaps unable to get to the brook they love so well, which may not be but a little way from them, and not a particle of fat upon their thin, shrunken bodies, their mournful eyes saying to the hunters, "we are poor and famished for want of suitable food, even the more thirsty from eating snow these many days. Pray do not kill us now, you can see we are not fit for food, and our skins are worth nothing, for they are so thin, that they would shed the thick hair at each shake. Please allow us to live until the crust is made thicker and harder after the rain, which we know is coming soon, when we will walk away carefully upon the top of it to a new feeding chance by the clear brook, and not be so famished. We will promise to get real round and fat by next October, then if you get one of us, it will not be so heartlessly cruel." But these men will not see their mild, pleading eyes ; they 1 86 The Aroostook Woods. only see "deer! deer! at 'em boys !" Out of the yard they must jump, the old buck or strong doe taking the lead ; the baby deer the last, jumps in the larger one's tracks as well as he can, but he is weak and the first one to be sacrificed. His little legs have found the bottom, made loose by the others before him ; he is soon fast and cannot make another jump. His strength was soon used up, as his breakfast was simply sucking the stubbs of sprouts the older ones left. He looks pleadingly toward his relentless pursuers, and surely they will let this little baby deer live. But no ; they are now deaf to its pitiful cry, and he counts, and they want to brag of the number they sacrifice. So on hurries a fat, oily-faced, red-cheeked fellow, that weighs one hundred and sixty-five, age about twenty, with broad shoulders and fat, short legs ; in fact his whole exterior speaks of a good appetite and plenty of pork and beans at home. " Hurrah ! " he cries, and plants his snow-shoe shod feet plump upon his back, crushing him still deeper in the snow. The poor lamb gives two or three plaintive bleats, but he whips out a long, murderous looking bowie knife, seizes him by the nostrils, bends his head back between his knees and cuts his throat, murderer fashion, from ear to ear, then leaves him lying there, to hasten on after the other fellows, wdio are overpowering the lamb's mother that they met coming back to the bleating lamb. She too is soon no more, with the same ghastly gash across her throat. On they go until every one shares the same fate. They save a few almost worthless skins (for at this time they are very thin indeed, though the hair is very thick upon them) too thin for anything but a lining, bringing perhaps thirty or forty cents apiece. The boys are a long ways from home, and can only carry Deer Tracking. 187 a hide and a quarter each away with them. The balance they may bury in the snow, saying, we will come next Saturday and haul it home on the crust. Before the time comes round, the rain likely spoils the snow-shoeing and their sledding ; consequently it is left to rot in the spring sun- shine, or become food for the meat-eating wild animals. But thanks to the late better game laws, for a change ; and thanks to nearly all the boys, too, for the most of them are honest sportsmen, and abhor such cruelty as this unmanly way of hunting. Two boys in midwinter found a deer yard within a half mile from camp. In it was the mother and two lambs. Four feet of snow and a crust would likely keep them there some time in their well-fed down paths. The deer ran to the end of their beat, and as the boys backed away from them, the deer stood with raised heads looking at them. The next day the boys visited them again, each with hunting axe, and this time the deer merely walked a little out of their way and were in sight during the time the boys were cutting them a good quantity of their favorite browse, enough to give them a good feast. This, they repeated every day or two, until a rain and soft snow liberated them ; the deer in the mean time becoming almost tame. This was just no work to do, only a pleasure for the boys, and they would not at that time have shot one of them if paid the amount of the fine which they would be liable to, for so doing. Yarding up of deer, caribou and moose is only on account of deep snows and their crusty surfaces. They get along pretty well, wading about up to their knees, until some heavy storm comes upon them, lasting perhaps for days, ending with rain and a freeze, and then they find themselves confined i SS The Aroostook Woods. right there for a time. The red deer is the first to be obliged to aeeept close quarters ; next the moose, when the snow is very deep, and lastly, the large footed caribou. Yet they seem to know what is coming and nearly always find some well-known lowland feeding ground beside the brook, before they are snowed in upon the ridges or barrens. Handy by the clear running, almost always open brook, is their favorite place for yarding, more especially the deer and the moose. The caribou is a hardy, independent fellow, and yards only when the deep snows are light and loose beneath, and the crust upon the top is sharp and knifey. As we have said, the small spring brooks are scarcely ever frozen, and if ever, it is in some rather exposed place; even then the deer will often put his foot through and find nice water to drink, the same as always open in the swamps as it is in winter, warm spring water, protected by the thick growth of eversfreens and the warm ground which is also kept from freezing by the snow continually falling from early winter until late in the spring. The cold winds sweeping over only the tops of the trees, from off the ridges, and losing much of its power before reaching the low lands, where runs the spring brooks the deer love so well. And down below these friendly warm trees, the fir, spruce, hemlock and cedar, it is like another climate, quite warm compared with the ridges. Camping in such localities, we never, in the coldest weather, find any frost to interfere with pushing down the crotches to support our tent poles ; so the deer can always find his favorite spring water in these evergreen lowlands ; not warmer water than in summer of course, but warm and elegant compared with that from the lakes and exposed streams outside. Here the deer when at first yarding, will D E ER T K AC K I NG . I 89 walk about but little, yet feed until mid-day, visit the brook for a drink, perhaps cross, and try the sprouts upon the other side, buck or doe leading, whilst the young follow in their tracks, making but few paths the first day, as they do not tramp down large yards as some might suppose. (These yards, so called, are usually but paths, they following after each other in near the same track, all lying down within a few feet of each other at night, and the hunter can tell after seeing this sleeping place the next morning, the number of old and young, and their sex, as readily as if he had seen them all standing there). The next day the snow may fall steadily and perhaps con- tinue all through the night following, yet they having found good pickings on these paths already made, still keep in their old tracks, breaking out no new path, again visit the brook at noon for a drink, then turn back on the old path a little way and lie down for their usual mid-day rest, then up again and around, to feed until near night and only over their very few paths. The snow is deep enough now to keep them in these old roads for days. Then comes the rain and immediately after the freeze, and this settles the question for them in regard to new roads to get better feeding. Their old path is now excellent walking, while all outside of them is sharp crust and they continue to follow only in their hard track, finding poor feeding until the next rain or a thaw softens the crust, when they sometimes wade slowly around, making new roads, or perhaps over the ridge to another brook or branch of the same. Toward spring, often after a very long rain storm, wetting the snow well down, the night changing to still and cold, gives them a crust which delights them, for now, they can C/3 w o CO O CO Q O o o M O H W M H Deer Tracking. 191 walk away on the thick, icy crust to where they choose, and at times scarcely leaving footprints to be seen and followed by the crust hunter. Then it is, if a fellow, early in the morning, was handy enough to them, we will say sitting just overhead in a scrubby hemlock tree (though the dear, gracious, goodness only knows how in the world he ever came to be there so very early on such a cold morning) he would plainly hear them singing in low cheery, deery tones, yet quite a little louder and stronger of voice than the "singing shad," which the old fishermen tell of. The young buck would take the bass now, in place of his father that was killed the winter before ; the mother now lead- ing the band, while the young buck follows in the rear of all, to protect his youngest sister, and is ever on the "qui vive" for any danger, as he listens to, and follows just after his mother in the happy song, which is one of their very few wildwood harmonies. THE QUICKSTEP TO WINDWARD. Oh happy deer are we, Now that we are set free, As we up and away, At the first peep of day. To the south, o'er the hill, To the brook and the rill ; Where the young maples grow, And the winds softly blow. Through the evergreens warm, That may hide us from harm, Till the sun's brighter rays, Shall give the warm days. 192 The Aroostook Woods. When the crusts disappear, Then with nothing to fear, We'll again roam at will, Through the dingle and dell. As the last note of their happy song floats away to leeward, the young buck adds, "And without more trembling and fear, of the well-fedy«/ boy on his snow-shoes coming after us with his great home blacksmith made bowie knife, with a piece of our father's horns for the handle." FISHING THROUGH THE ICE. ABOUT the middle of March, in Aroostook waters, the trout in his darkened home beneath the thick ice, begins to frisk about and show a fresh appetite. A few can be caught at almost any time during the winter, by cutting holes through the ice over the quiet, deep places near the incoming streams, in the coves and at the inlets of the lakes, but they do not take the bait readily until spring. This is as it should be ; they should be left in undisturbed quiet when they say to us so plainly : " we are having a rest." From the first of winter when the ice forms, until the lakes and streams are again opened by the warm rains and the sunshine, they are in poor condition from spawning, and feeding but little while lying upon the bottom, just under the mud and sedi- ment, where the water in winter is much the warmer, though in the summer quite the cooler. By cutting a hole through the ice in shoal, or even quite deep water, if it is clear, on a bright day, and kneeling down with eyes close to the water and your overcoat thrown over your head, the bright light excluded except a small ray at one place, then watching the bottom closely and keeping the bait 194 The Aroostook Woods. moving, the trout can be seen. Perhaps at the first a slight movement, showing nose and head, then their wriggling out leaving a roily swirl behind them as they dart to seize the bait. Away back in our early sporting days, when the trout were so plenty that they could be caught in every shady pool, and were to be seen at morning and evening in the mellow sun- light, leaping from the waters in quick succession, and for mere sport often, as well as for the flies in the air just above and those fluttering upon the surface ; when this animating sight was quite the usual thing to see all up and down the quiet streams, upon the lakes, at the inlets, and in the grassy coves, we often went winter faking" and caught them through the ice. We remember a month of March as proving an unusually mild one, when old boreas ceased his unwelcome visits for near the whole month and the icy storms came not upon us. When only one half to an inch of snow fell occasionally, and this at night ; and after the cool nights, the early mornings were mild and hazy until the sun breaking out making all clear as a bell, relieving the enameled trees and their ice encircled branches and twigs, and drinking the diamond drops hanging from the buds. With maiiy sunny days for boisterous March, with warm southerly winds which were most favora- ble for winter fishing. And early in this pleasant month looking out over the fields one morning, where the winter snows were piled up level with the fence tops, watching the small boys coasting down to the river, then on it and away over the smooth, white ice and out of sight, soon toiling back to repeat their jolly slide, the crust bearing them well up, only the light track of their moccasined feet and sled runners showing in the light snow upon the Fishing Through the Ice. 195 crust, and such elegant snow-shoeing that we began thinking, for all this, with the mild weather, was very suggestive. Soon we espy Joe coming on his snow-shoes, when we imme- diately mistrust that he likewise is somewhat unsettled a bit, wavering as to things under the circumstances ; and as he appeared before us we see he too has caught it, for his flushed cheek and shining- eves show a high stage of the trouting fever coming on, from a hankering after the lakes. Compar- ing notes, we agree that the only medicine, pleasant to take, and a sure cure for this contagious fever, will be to take a trip to the camp. Accordingly, the next day saw us off for the bonny lakes. With the pung well stowed w r ith such indispensable articles as were needed for the trip, and such stores as we were out of at camp, our toboggans tied upon the load, we drove out and through the town, lively with many teams and the busy hum and rustle of business. Away over the hills, holding up and stopping ever and often at the "turn out to pass by chances" on the way, to allow the many heavily loaded teams, nearly and often all the road. These always very numerous were more so this pleasant month, going to the village, often half a dozen or more in line. Many boxed up loads of pota- toes, covered with blankets and rugs to insure against freezing at starting (often before daylight) and later to keep off the sunshine. Heavy loads of leather from the tannery ; long and short lumber, shingles, knees, rift, butts, clapboards, pressed hay, grain, wood of all kinds, hemlock bark, and farmers with their exchanges. Nearly every team right merrily hurry- ing forward for town. Some slipping down the hills with break applied, others toiling up the rise bevond, to stop and chat with those already resting there, obliging us to break out ic}6 The Aroostook Woods. a new turn out around them, through the crust. All heading for the village, the depot, and a market, delaying us often as we met them on the levels at the turn outs. But all things have an end, and they gradually grow less in number as we pass the scattering farm houses and trot gaily down the distant hills, soon leaving them all behind with nearly the last of civilization, as we turn off and over the long rise, and then down to the nearly unbroken forest. On through the quiet evergreens, the road now running east and west ; even the south wind does not reach us, and we find it here at this time as warm as the month of June. The well trodden roads are thawing in the sun, allowing the pung to slip along after our horse like a feather weight as he skips on at a lively trot through the thick growth, the sparkling crust beside us being just on a level with the pung seat upon which we are sitting. A partridge that is sunning himself at the edge of the road, ruffles his plumage and elevates his small crest at being disturbed, then goes walking daintily away over the crust just out of our sight, but to return to his sun bath after our passing. Next a rabbit is seen, that is well used to the roadside, and the pickings of dried clover heads falling off the loads of hay, as well as the more thrifty buds growing in the light and sunshine. He deigns not to move as we pass him, sitting half asleep on the sunny side of the firs, but his temerity costs him dearly, as he is wanted at the camp. As the sun beyond us, a little to the left, is creeping down- ward on its way, lengthening out our shadows on the crust that are ever following us behind, we make the last turn on our road and are soon at the end of our journey by team. Here leaving buffalo coats, wraps, and our foot-wear for riding, we pull on many extra stockings and over these our Fishing Through the Ice. 197 soft tanned moosehide moccasins ; pack our load from the pung upon the toboggans, and lash them in such a manner that should we upset occasionally we can tip back again all solid as before. Slipping on the show-shoes, we are ready, and away, on our three mile tramp (playing horse) and really enjoying it much over such a fine crust, with the moon keeping us company on the way, over our north and south blazed line, through the now really wild, unbroken forest to the hunting lodge. Almost every rod of the way is familiar to us, from our landmarks ; the lay of the land, the brooks, a clump of evergreens, the rocky rise and quick descent, then along the side of the ridge close to the swamp, the beeches on the knoll and the merry little brooks. Having all the time there is, we take the up grades slowly, often resting on the top a moment and admiring the lovely moonlit forest, so still and quiet everywhere among its lights and shadows. On such an evening the nightly ramblers were no doubt abroad as usual, but excepting "bunny," with his bright eyes at this time wide open, as he skipped away from our moving shadows, and a night warbler overhead in the thick spruce trees, favoring us with a short song, all seemed at quiet rest. Coming to the down grades, we take the webbing from our shoulders, with which we haul the toboggans, and guiding the sleds outside the track, and along beside us, take an Indian lope down to the long levels below, which again require but little exertion to pull the loads over the level crust. Here looking back for a long way behind, we see a straight and narrow road made level by our snow-shoes, and leaving the tracks of our wide beech runners shining in the moonlight. Upon this now well packed road, should we have a rain, and 19S The Aroostook Woods. then freezing, we could pull out over it as large a load as the sleds would bear up. At last, after a few tumbles and the usual upsets, we came in sight of well-known rolling land, anon the brook, and then the hunting lodge. We find it snowed in up to the windows, but after digging down with a snowshoe we get the shed door open, pull in the sleds, unlock and open the camp door, and light the lamps and a fire. A basket of birch bark for shav- ings, dry cedar and yellow birch wood being at hand soon heat up, changing the air and obliging us to swing open the door, and slide back the ventilator in the roof. In camp again ; how cosy it is, everything in its place, as handy as when we left in the fall ; even the wild goose wing and dust pan, hang together as of yore. Hi ! there is a mouse ; this night he is choked to death between wood and wire, enticed by a piece of fresh doughnut. Sleds unloaded, packages put in place, then supper of sausages, with fresh home made bread, Aroostook doughnuts and a cup of tea ; next comes the fragrant smoke and then the welcome bunk. This time we carry in a nickle clock ; it will be company to hear its merry tick, and useful as well. We wind it up whilst Joe is out and set the alarm at four o'clock. Joe likes to sleep, and sometimes rather late mornings, which we tell him is a sad misfortune to become chronic with a sportsman, leading to a wonderful low, dull, stagnant state of animation and enthusiasm, wasting the most beautiful, bracing, and enjoyable part of the pleasant days. Besides this is not good for him, as he is too fat already to skip about light and airy on his snow-shoes, displaying altogether too much jolly protuberant rotundity. Fishing Through the Ice. 199 We place the clock ticking away lively in an empty cigar box, on the shelf over his head, within two feet of his ear. Coming in and hearing it there, he wants to know what for and why ? and remarks : "Do you suppose I want that thing in my ear all night?" "Oh, well, Joe, leave it there to please us ; it will sing you to sleep, and you said we should keep it warm, and that's the south side of camp." "All right, I'll get used to it I suppose." It was too much fun just for one alone to hear him the next morning when the alarm struck up. The clock was a new one, and the wide, thin board shelf, with the cigar box, aided the circus, and as it rumbled on we began to think it might be an eight clay alarm. It ended at last, and we heard a deep sigh and a sad groan, as Joe reached for the bootjack. Too dark to see, he aimed at random, drawing a long breath, mixed with "dang you" and such like, but we dove before the flash, and escaped. "Ah, yes, I see; warmer on the sunny south side, is it? I'll make the shady north side hot for you when I get out of this berth ! a regular Fourth of July, my sonny." Feeling a little repentant for waking Joe so early, and pity- ing him as he had a cold, I jumped up, lit the lamps, built a fire and mixed him a good dose of " Standard Liniment " hot, which immediately brings out his usual good humor. Just at daylight we are all ready for the lake and the fish- ing ground. Seeing that our fire is all safe and locking the camp, we slide our feet securely in the straps of our snow- shoes and are off, levelling down another fine path to run over and for future use, to easily carry our outfit, that which we need to make a day of it ; our handiest knapsack is again 200 The Aroostook Woods. the two bushel bag. At this time the contents consisted of our dinners, dippers, tea pail, fry pan, rubbers, extra woolen stockings, in case of wet feet, small packages, etc. Wrap- ping them in paper and packing properly, the sack (but half full) is gathered together at the mouth and thrown over the right shoulder. A cord is made fast to one bottom corner (which bottom corner hangs at the left side) then passed under the left arm, up across your breast and made fast to the gathered together mouth of the sack, with one round turn and one-half hitch. Should you wish to be relieved of iti quickly, the end of the cord is dangling, give it one twitch and instantly you are free from it. Quite a load can be easily carried in this manner, requiring but little attention, leaving your hands and arms free for other use. An elegant day it proves, and we enjoy the walk in the early morning through the wildwood, over the well-known path. The birds singing as cheerily as if 'twere nesting time, and the squirrels barking us a welcome, remembering us as friends from our having passed through their play- ground often before. Upon the way we step to one side, and from a hollow stub take our ice chisel, which has had a year's rest, and in a moment we are at the lake. Ho ! the bonny lake ; so pretty in the early, sunny morning, surrounded by the gently rising hills of hard woods, all dressed in their winter garb of brown and gray, with the tall spruce scattered through, standing straight and prim above, spotted here and there with patches of small evergreens, beside wdiich, and away to the top, is seen the white shining crust, showing plainly beneath the open growth and between the leafless branches of the hard wood trees, while below, around the shores, all is warm and melting in the sunshine Fishing Through the Ice. 2or beneath the fringe of evergreens with their heads just barely nodding to the gentle southerly breeze. Changing our moccasins for the rubbers, we are soon at the cove handy by, and cut a half dozen holes. At first we cut through five or six inches of snow ice ; this is from the snow and rains and an overflow from the ice settling, and the lake water mixing with the snows and freezing upon the surface. Here we find a thin streak of water between the two ices, after which a foot and a half of beautiful clear blue ice. Just before cutting through this, the sun shining down in, shows us many colors of the rainbow at the thin ice yet left in the bottom of the hole. Stopping to admire these beautiful colors for a moment, we give three or four very quick punches with the chisel and the confined water rushes quickly to the top and often well over the upper surface. Our chisel, in form like the carpenter's slice, yet wider, thicker and much heavier, ground only upon one side, bevel- ling, with a five foot long, hard wood handle ; it cuts fast and clean, and we soon have the lines placed, baited with fresh beef at the start, until we catch the little red fin roach which is preferable. A sprout or branch the size of a finger three or four feet long, is fixed firmly in the ice beside the hole, and low doiu?z upon this is tied the line ; lowering the baited hook to the bottom, then raising it one foot, it is hung by a loop just upon a bud ; the remaining slack is coiled and hung upon the bush. A trout taking the bait when we are: not watching, the line falls from the bud in the water, giving him the slack to run away with, and swallowing the bait and hook and swimming on away, it brings up at the fastening below (a dead fast) and hooks the fish. And now we put to> work our little fishermen. Fastening a small piece of birch 203 The Aroostook Woods. hark or paper (the size governed by the wind) about mid- way between the loop hanging on the hud and the water, and with this the wind keeps the line moving up and down, doing the bobbing. "Hi! is that a bite?" "Nay, nay, it's only the wind." "Like to bet you." "Ah ha ! it's a good bite ; he has the blower in the water (the slack has caught on somehow,) see him thrash the bush down in the water. Go it Joe ! " He is pulled out hand over hand and allowed no slack to turn with, until he lies flipping upon the ice. How clean and silvery bright he looks, rolling over and over, and trying many times to stand upon his head. lie is immediately cared for, placed in the snow of fine ice, from the choppings, away from the sun and air. AVe keep strictly to business now, as the lines are often being twitched down. There seems to be a fine school below us ; it is about their feeding time, too ; besides, "when the wind is in the south, it blows the bait in the fish's mouth." Near the middle of the day, the trout do not bite readily, and often keep away, until late in the afternoon. This time is improved in catching the pretty little silver red fin for bait, using a tiny hook and very small bait. He is often nibbling at this time, but hidden in the grass, when the trout are on the rampage. Aware that quick changes often come with little warning, Ave take a half hour while it is so pleasant, to build our barri- cade. A few forked stakes are let into the ice, braced and withed, a dozen small poles for rafters and a small shelter tent over these, completes the wind break ; and now, should old i— i HH 25 o H o c s H s M O 204 The Aroostook Woods. "boreas" find his way back while we are at the lake, he will find we defy him, with our backs turned upon him and our iaces turned to the sunny south. Just in front of the barricade upon some small, green butts, laid closely, side by side, to keep the fire above the ice, we boll the kettle, and have our dinner, sitting upon a pile of fir boughs, over a pine bark flooring, enjoying an elegant sun bath as we watch the lines and bobs whilst eating. In the afternoon we darken the holes with the ice choppings, as the bright sun over them makes the trout wary of approaching, and hooking on our small red fins, alive (a choice bait,) succeed in taking a nice school of larger trout ; afterward many smaller trout and fat silver roach were caught ; all of fair size are packed immediately, while those less than seven or eight inches are shown the water, when they quickly scoot to the bottom. Trouting through the ice is now not so much practiced, but in those days, long rows of set lines for togue and trout were often seen upon the frozen lakes. The fisherman when leaving his lines at night, would run the small hook through his live bait beneath the back fin, being careful not to injure the back bone, when the bait swims quickly to the bottom. Raising the fish up a little way, the loop is hung upon a twig of a bush, the slack line is coiled and also laid upon it, when the bush and slack line is pushed part way down through the ice, or below freezing. Just at night or early in the morning is considered the best time to catch a large fish, and coming along, he seizes the small chub, and after a bite or two, swallows hook and fish, always invariably, head first, moving away with the slack line and bush, and either the line frozen in at the surface or where tied outside is a dead fast, which Fishing Through the Ice. 20^ hooks him and he is fastened, usually to stay, when after vainly righting for awhile, he sulks and then remains quiet. Most of the winter fishing is not really very desirable, one finding a cold, paralysing time, when the wind is unfavorable and it is usually unsatisfactory as to results. We never knew of but one party ever doing a real fine " Georgia, Alabama " lci7td office business at winter fishing through the ice. This was on Penobscot waters, as we heard the story ; a party of two cut a hole below a dam, in a pool, where the trout were locked in. As their chisel punched through, the confined water burst out, the trout following and coming with it in a steady drove. The water subsided, yet the fish kept pop- ping out ; some lively kicking was done to save them from going back, but at last the men were satisfied with a two bushel sack full of trout. During the last days of March, the rains, with the ever increasing warmth of the sun, having much reduced the deep snow, and another crust forming during a cold night ; we take this time to look over a line of mink and sable traps, down through the long, swampy lowlands. The line run- ning through the swamp and by the foot of the ridges, often neared and ran beside a small spring brook which was now all open from the sun and warm rain, until another winter should pile dowm its deep snows upon it. It was always of much interest to us, from being in many places alive with the very smallest trout. The cool spring brook in the summer and the warm spring brook in winter, and its waters pure and sweet at any time are nearly always of the same temper- ature. We came upon it at first, at its head, and the springs that feed it; two tiny streams are making their way down, soon joining in one, growing a little wider and deeper, for a 2o6 The Aroostook Woods. short way, then a uniform size far as one could see, showing- itself at this time in a dark line between its snowy banks deeply shaded by the dense swamp. And at our feet, and all along in many of its turns and windings far below, are small pools of quiet water, and gravelly, spawning beds, where can be seen the baby trout, the largest at the head of the brook no longer than a little finger. Each year far up the brooks from the large waters, here can be seen these sprightly little fellows in many places, in large numbers ; and in the early spring, by looking closely, there may be seen the partly developed baby trout, with its little sack hanging to it beneath, and this little embryo is from the egg left on the spawning ground late in the fall before. Winter or summer they are here, and as many growing large enough, they run down to greater waters, and are replaced by the spawning in the fall. As we bend over them, they are frightened at our dark shadows and dart away up and down the small stream, and beneath the fine woody sediment, to hide in their late winter quarters. And so it is all through the forest, everywhere in this large county, and it would be modest indeed to remark that our spring brooks are numerous. Nearly every small stream, some quite diminutive, when fed by the never failing springs, are the home of the baby trout. They never freeze to any depth, even in exposed situations in the forest, nor do the lowland brooks they feed, save just sufficient to hold up the snows in winter, wdiich protect the small trout until balmy spring opens out and brightens up their small territory. Here they are safe from the old, hooked-nosed trout, yet have their enimies even here. The otter getting far back, seeking some secluded spot Fishing Through the Ice. 207 away from the males to rear her young, follows up the brook, and in some hollow log or more often at the knoll beneath the pine stub, close to the brook and among the larger roots, goes down, and then up and under, and there makes her nest. Here close beside the brook, her little ones can pray out in the rain or sunshine, and as soon as old enough, are taught the art they are to follow, by practising upon the small trout. The mink also seeks the same places for the like purpose, and for the same delicacy for its little ones, as well as the otter to hide them from the males, who would destroy them if possible. As the little trout grows a bit bigger, they move down along, settling in a new home for awhile, but are soon seek- ing a little wider, deeper water, again growing tired of their small jdooI and having the growing appetite ; down they go to lower, deeper holes in the small brook, when at the last, feeling big, bold and brave, gay and frisky (being about the size for the small boy's fun) and when a little roiled up and excited with the late freshet, they follow on behind after the late spawning trout, eventually shooting out into the larger waters among their older brothers. THE BEAVER. VERY much has been written about the beaver and all of our forest animals by the scientists, giving their history complete, so all that is left us (fortunately, perhaps) is some minor points. These also interesting to us, they must neces- sarily skip and leave to the trapper, as "Old Boreas" would surely coagulate the very marrow in their bones, should they invade his playgrounds and bleak territory, sitting around upon the breezy ridges or humped up upon a hillock on the barren in all kinds of weather, watching the manouvering of the animals. To be quickly convinced of the beaver's apparent superiority over many of the forest animals, one should ex- amine his works, and watch an industrious family building a large dam, flowing many acres of low land, changing it to a lake, and see their cuttings, from the smallest shoots or sprouts, to trees fourteen inches in diameter. His idea of building the dam, causing the water to flow far back, giving him a swimming chance (up and down what was before but a shallow run) to his new wood lot that he has discovered, making for himself a new lake or pond of his own over this small brook running through the lowland, and giving suffi- The Beaver. 209 cient depth of water to swim to many new feeding chances around the shores, even in winter beneath the ice, and deep water in front of his house to store his winter's wood for food ; this seems to come very close to reasoning. A cute fellow is the beaver ; and just here not to be too par- tial to one and unjust to others, while we would give him all credit, acknowledge him an industrious worker, an ingenious architect and a wide awake fellow when abroad, knowing just when to dive beneath the surface, rather too quickly too, as he sees or hears the canoe coming around the bend, yet we have many others deserving of much notice, and he should not have the credit of being the only bright one dwelling away back in the wildwood. Among the many of us, it may not be the greater part, that realize how very near many of our forest dwellers approach to intelligence and under- standing. The beavers home is built close to the edge of the stream where there is a good depth of water, the house being large or small, according to the size of the family ; the usual size seen, for a small family, is some four or five feet in diameter at the base ; four feet high, nearly oval in shape, sloping downward to turn off the rain. Many sticks and bushes that grow handy they use in its construction, gathering and bring- ing for the house all the shoots and cane like sticks from which they have formerly eaten the bark and left beside the stream, with large flakes of fibrous roots, sods and mud which they dig handy by. The many sticks working admira- bly as binders, keeping all in place, and at the last covered with the muddy sods placed grass side down, which it is stated that on a rainy day, using their broad, flat tails as trowels, they smooth up to a nicety. Often in the fall along 2io The Aroostook Woods. the stream in the vicinity of, and upon the top of the house now being repaired perhaps, and showing fresh black mud, may be seen the cane like sticks of new wood from which they have eaten the bark, now showing at a long distance, brightly in the sunshine. This gives them entirely away, for although they are careful to be in hiding themselves at the least unusual sound, these bright, newly peeled sticks notify the trapper of their return from their summer cruisings, to fix up their habitations for w T inter. Their rooms, or nests, nicely lined with grass, are well above the water from below, and yet beyond danger of freez- ing from the outside. Close to the nest, below, is their passage down to the water, which is never allowed to freeze but little, even if likely to, which it is not. The many sticks being crossed in every manner, support the heavy mass above (their roof) from falling in upon them. Their home is well built to keep out the cold, and the warmth of their fat bodies while in the nest keep up the temperature. Then with the colder weather comes the snow, covering all during the winter, with the wind drifting an extra share upon their house, so that at times you can scarcely tell where their dwellings are. And here, when snoozing in their cosy home in the centre of of their house below the cold, they have what they want, a warm, dry nest while they are sleeping, and a dry chance above all wet from below. Snug quarters for such hardy fellows after all. And upon the outside while boreas holds high carnival, they are each curled up like a huge football, their broad, flat tails flipped around to one side of them between their bodies and the open passage to the water, partly, at least, protecting one side of them from the (not very cold) air from the water below. This knowledge of them was gained The Beaver. 211 from cutting into a house in the spring and finding a very aged beaver frozen stiff in this position in his nest. As they increase in numbers and grow up, a pair or more will start out from the old home to housekeep for themselves, making the journey usually up the main stream, often finding a smaller branch coming into the main, which after examining they settle near its head, if finding chances for good flowage and plenty of young wood. The old ones assist the young pairs to build their new dam, which when completed the old ones return to the old home. Often a family become dis- gusted with the cruel ways of the trapper, and fearful of yet more murderous intentions on his part, they all desert their home together and find a sly chance which is known only to themselves, for a long time, and then, when the trapper hap- pens to trace them out, he may see such a village of beaver houses as makes his eye fairly twinkle over the prospect of rich furs, the excitement and the dollars. Then again, when being driven from, or voluntarily leaving their home, they will settle upon the same stream, often but a short distance above, sometimes finding all favorable for them without build- ing a dam, only their house, which they must have on the boggy lands, only living in the banks of the streams where they are high, dry and loomy. Should the trapper wish to catch but one beaver, he can do so by setting the trap in the nest inside the house ; but he only gets the one in this manner, as the others will not stay to take such a chance after seeing one of their number caught. To do this, he sets his trap the same as for the musquash, and by cutting through the house immediately over the nest, the exact spot known by the white frost showing upon the outside com- ing from the beaver's warmth of body and his breathing. 212 The Aroostook Woods. Setting the trap in the beavers bed and covering it nicely with the grass from the nest, the end of the chain fastened upon the outside, and the opening he has made neatly closed, tight as before. But should he take the time he may catch nearly every one by setting the traps at the points, or beside the stream, some little distance from the house. Finding such a place both above and below the house, usually is correct. If the stream is not as yet frozen the traps can be set near the shore, as for the musquash, but in a little deeper water. A dry pole should be attached to the chain, placed and fastened so as to allow him to plunge quickly to deep water and drown. Too light a trap is not as desirable, but having none suffi- ciently heavy to hold him down beneath the water, a stone can be added to the chain. Here the medicine (so called) comes handy for the beaver, as for musquash. This is the beaver castor found upon the matured males as upon the mus- quash, used upon a dry stick in the same manner. Not hav- ing the castor at the first of trapping, bait with poplar wood, pushed down beside the trap. After the ice forms, to catch them beneath it is the best and most satisfactory way, if the hunter will take the time to do so. They are not wholly dependent upon the wood sunk in the stream in front of their dwellings for their winter food, but are travelling or swimming up and down beneath the ice to different feeding grounds all through the winter. Many trappers say the wood provided for winter is a reserve, and only brought up to the well-packed floor of the house and eaten in the extreme case ; so the traps set a little away from their house upon the points, and baited with newly cut wood, is seen as they go up and down. In water deep enough to drown them quickly, cut a place The Beaver. 213 through the ice large enough to work handy, and drive the four dry stakes for the platform upon which to rest the trap when set, about twelve or fifteen inches below the ice. The stakes may be made ready before driving, by wiring together, forming the square, then cross wired, forming the resting place for the trap. Upon this wiring, weave in a few small evergreens enough to form quite a nest, leaving small ends to float erect in the water, partly hiding the trap and serving to steady it in place, in case the edge of the trap is stepped upon before the pan. Baited with a young green tree ; poplar is the favorite with them, and many branches maybe left on, the top pushed in the mud at the bank and the butt imme- diately over the trap and fastened to the stakes. The beaver anxious to carry off the tree to his house, will be caught while resting upon the trap and platform, in the act of cut- ting off the butt. A dry pole to hold the trap always, the ring to slip easily from top to bottom, when there is a stub of a branch always left on, to prevent the ring from slipping off, and the beaver soon drowns upon the bottom of the stream. One or two out of a family may be caught by setting the traps upon their dam (which is so near level that the water flows evenly over it,) by cutting out places two or three inches deep and setting traps in them, but seeing one of their num- ber struggling in irons is sufficient to drive them all away to seek new quarters. To catch them a little away from their works, singly and alone, and drowning them quickly is the better way. If traps are new and bright, they should be smoked over evergreen boughs. If set upon a muddy bottom, the mud stirred up will settle over them hiding their brightness. We have been told of a trapper, who as he was travelling 214 The Aroostook Woods. around the edge of a meadow or barren, and as he was passing through a piece of young and mixed second growth growing beside the meadow, came upon the works of beaver, showing fresh cuttings, then after tracing a short way he found very recent signs of them. A poplar tree had been cut down which was some three or four inches in diameter, and a piece taken from it, and apparently but just dragged away ; following the trail a piece, he soon found their road running around and beneath the downfalls, between the old bleached stumps and their bare roots, beside the clumps of bushes, all with the view to the easiest road toward the stream and to be as much hidden as possible on the way ; then nearly straight across the open meadow to the water. Knowing the beaver though a swifter in his element, the water, when on the land as a racer, not a success, he determined to lie in wait and kill one if possible, though having nothing but his axe for a weapon. Finding a good hiding place on the meadow, he waited long for his return for another log, feeling confident of success, as he watched through the low growing bushes. After waiting until near night in a drizzly rain, he raised up, about to continue on his way, giving up the watching, when he discovered the beaver coming toward him, but not from the water as he was expecting and had been watching, as the beaver had taken some other route to his wood lot and was now coming toward the water and directly to the trapper. The beaver was slowly toiling around a rise in the meadow that was covered with bushes, one paw and forearm over the log, with a firm hold by his teeth of the end, thus lifting and drawing it along. As the knowing beaver approached to within a few feet of the man's hiding place, the air, though thick with fog and mist, gave upon it a strange taint, and The Beaver. 21 caused the beaver to drop his log and look wonderingly toward the clump of bushes. As the trapper suddenly half raised himself and sprang toward him, w r ith the axe uplifted to drive it through his scull or hurl it w r ith unerring aim should the beaver attempt to run, the beaver merely bowed down his head, remaining motionless. He saw and knew his situation at a glance ; cut off from his way to the water and no escape. He crawled a step or two toward his would-be destroyer, and stopped again with bowed head, like a begging spaniel. This w r as rather too much instinct for the trapper, who was a human being after all, and proved it wdien he dropped his axe upon his shoulder, turned to one side from the beaver and hurried on his way. Furthermore, this jolly trapper stated, that once upon a time, late in the afternoon of the day, as it was on his way, he stopped at a beaver's wood lot when expecting them to be coming and hid to leeward of their path, and where they would likely be working if they came, wishing to watch them, and that he did not w r ish to shoot them as they were the only pair upon the pond, by which ran his line of traps. Seeing a large wdiite birch nearly cut off, he took his position where he could watch this, and laid flat upon the ground behind a small mound, that he might be the more quiet. Soon the pair of beaver came and began their work, each to his tree. One he said, was a huge old fellow, though not too large to be yet very supple, nor too old to be funny and frisky, and this one went at the big wdiite birch partly cut down. Before long he caused a trembling among its upper branches and just as the tree w r as tottering upon the small piece left uncut, he jumped backward and flapped his broad paddle tail out behind him with a whirl and a whack upon the ground. 2 if> The Aijoostook Woods. Then sitting upon it, straight up in the air like a squirrel, with his eye up the tree watching its top a moment, and as it began to tip with the breeze, his forepaws held together in front of him like a trick spaniel and moving them up and down the while, at the same time using his tail as a spring for his whole body, he bobbed up and down like a baby in a jumper, and actually laughed aloud as the tree came crashing down. The Old Monarch. 217 THE OLD MONARCH. UPON the knoll well up the rocky rising lands, Beside the sportsman's trapping line the monarch stands ; Outlined upon the sky when seen from lake afar, And on the brightest days is seen its latest scar. A Monarch still, that to boreas yields no place, Till time and storm shall more conduce to his disgrace. Not many years have passed since on it there did rest Upon three stubs of limbs, high up, an eagle's nest. And with the king of birds upon the remnant of a bough, It did not look so lonely then as it looks now ; Tall, bleached and bare, all hoary gray with age, It yet defies the storm with boreas in his rage. Stripped clean by wind and rain, of every limb bereft; No branch or twig, no bud, or tiny leaf, is left To cast their shade, or waive and tremble in the breeze, Yet still erect the giant stands above all other trees. Years long agone it looked as old as now, to-day, All weatherworn and smooth upon its bole and gray Save one long, scathing streak, all furrowed down its side; The lightning came, 'twere not enough that it had died. It yet stands firm upon its feet though it is dead ; How many, many years with spring and fall have fled Since first two tiny leaves peeped out and saw the sun, Who of us all can tell? God is the only one. THE LOG TRAP OR DEAD-FALL. ON THE LINE OF TRAPS. MANY not at all acquainted with trapping would no doubt be interested to know something of what is meant by a line of traps. They are set in line, or are running a certain course, which at times may vary as we come to thick tangled swamps, stream and lake, though at times directly through a swamp, and again alongside it, when as good or better trap- ping, as it is the better travelling. Then down along the stream a piece to trap the mink, also to place a trap of well proven springs for the otter if any chance offers, and for a suitable crossing to the other side of the stream to continue the line, yet in the main, keeping to the original course to reach some distant lake, stream, mountain, or lowland, which is to be the terminus. We cross the lake usually at the inlet or outlet, by canoe or raft. Crossing the stream often at the rips, or if not, just above or below by raft, which is two or three dry cedars of good size, cut down, rolled in and withed together. Then with the aid of a dry spruce pole, always to be found handy, we are soon on the opposite shore tying the raft securely to the bushes, to be there on our return. 220 The Aroostook Woods. Spotting the line, is taking a small chip out of a tree upon each side of it, as high as one can reach handy, so as to be well above the deep snows. From this tree you look ahead on the course, selecting another in line with this, to take a slice from each side, and so on. The same as all spotting of lines through the woods tor marking off the townships and sections, excepting that the trapper and hunter will mark more trees, giving him twice the number of spots so he may quickly find his way ; and this prevents his getting off the course in stormy times. Even then, when the snow is falling in damp flakes and is driven against the trees by the wind, the spots are many of them not to be seen. Again there are many moonlighted evenings when it is nice to have the line plainly marked, for the hunters are often forgetting to hurry, with the moon in prospect, being so much interested in providing new baits for traps in good locations, and adding more weight here and there, that they, and their shadows, are often late passing over the line, hurrying on to the home camp to enjoy its welcome comforts. Early in the fall of the year when the weather is mild, dry and pleasant, in the mild September, is the time to build the new line or to repair the old one. One might carry quite a little outfit beside his light, narrow axe if he would improve all the chances that offer and fully enjoy his excursions over the line ; and may we make a suggestion (to the uninitiated only.) should one start in on the hunting and trapping or the tramping and camping, always to carry with him a little salt and pepper, so much needed and appreciated when we broil a trout or a bird. At the same time we will find it handy to carry a half dozen fish hooks and a line or two, for we come to a stream many times quite unexpectedly. Then with our Ox The Line of Traps. 221 pocket knife we can play woodpecker upon the dead spruce and get a fine, fat wood worm for the small hook, or shoot a bird or squirrel, with which we can get a chub, and then with this bait often a fine trout, which gives such tone and relish to the luncheon, by adding the speckled beauty, broiled. So a small wallet containing hooks and lines, salt and pepper, a small vial for sure dry matches (as a reserve,) a surgeons three cornered needle, twenty or thirty yards of the finest shoe thread, a small piece of beeswax and a generous piece of surgeons court plaster, all carried in an inner pocket is quite correct. Now perhaps, knowing you have this needle and plaster, you will not cut yourself. Good ! cheap insurance. Usually two are trapping together on the line, which is the pleasant way to do. They leave the home camp provided much like the following : One rifle for shooting bait, as well as for larger game should it come in the way and offer to bite them. Each with light hunting axe, weight two and a half pounds, heavy poll, thin and long bitted, with strap and case to carry hanging from the shoulder ; good serviceable pocket knives which should not have -pczvter blades; compass, always ; as many steel traps as they can conveniently carry at the start out, to be left as they grow too heavy, hanging them up as they work along to good chances, some to be set where left, others to be moved on at future times. Trappers leave them hanging until wanted with but little fear of their being stolen, for none but the lowest dregs of the half human would be guilty of taking them, as this is considered by all to be the meanest kind of thieving. Many steel traps are set low at the first of the season and gives the trapper more fur. The mink especially are dodging in and out of the low-down places, and is not afraid of wetting his feet, so usually the 222 The Aroostook Woods. trap is under water an inch or two the bait sticking up beside it with chain enough to allow him to get to deep water and drown. The best chances for the sable are in and around beside the swamps, though they are taken on the ridges, particularly in beech nut time, as they, as well as the fisher, will eat the beech nuts, though both are carnivorous to a murderous extent. The old pine, as well as other dry, decaying stubs, are just elegant for the house to set the steel trap in, and here is where the narrow bitted axe works to a charm for cutting into it, and the rather heavy poll helps to drive it. The spruce stumps left by the lumbermen are fine for the dead fall, though many of them too low for our deep snows ; those upon the knoll are best. The dead fall does not require to be wide at the mouth of it, for the sable or mink ; in fact a narrow entrance is best. So the fair sized fir trees, cut as high as one can chop them handy, gives us a chance to build the dead fall for these fellows, good for any time during the winter, and they last for years. There is little fear but what the sable or fisher will find the baits even if high. Give them a small rough spruce piece to climb up by if so wished, though usually they get there just the same. A south exposure is always best for the entrance of the trap ; nealed wire is good for the spring pole or tip-up, and a spool of it comes handy frequently, though the greater part of the trapper's strings and ropes are the inner bark of the young and straight cedar trees and twisted withes ; for tying on the baits, the cedar bark is complete. The needful luncheon must be put up and carried along, and not a scanty one is satisfying when the boys are building traps and spotting the line ; for earnest and active, deeply Ox The Line of Traps. 223 interested in the pleasant work, noon comes quickly, yet they are always jolly hungry. The dead fall for the sable and mink is much the same wherever used ; but for those unacquainted with it, that may be interested, we are pleased to describe it. The dead fall, or wooden trap, if properly built and set with sufficient heft upon the fall piece, will do a good business, however much may be said to the contrary. A large log, a down pine stub, a square cut off fir or spruce tree, is usually selected to build upon. Dry cedar splits are provided a foot long, and a half to three-fourths of an inch thick, for the house which is shaped like a V. The splits may vary in width from two to six inches. These are made w r edge shaped at one end that they may be driven in the log or stump upon which the house is being made. The hunting axe struck in and then withdrawn, opens in the stump a chance for them to be driven solid for the house. Immediately in front of the V shaped house is laid the bed piece, which is generally of spruce a foot long, two and a half inches in diameter, the bark left on at the top side, beneath flattened to fit. In front of this bed piece of spruce, to keep it solid and to receive the long fall piece, are driven two stakes on a line with the splits. The fall piece and bed piece are from one tree and fit together nicely, the fall being from six to ten feet long, according to convenience. The near end of the fall, fitting and resting upon the bed piece (or choker;) the outer end may be sup- ported by resting in the fork of a small tree ; if not, a forked stick is provided and withed to a tree, the top of the tree afterward cut off to prevent swaying and springing the trap. Upon this fall piece rests the weight of logs (their ends close beside the trap) that pin down and kill the animal. Next the spindle, or bait stick, upon the end of which is fastened 22 4 The Aroostook Woods. the bait. This is the length of the house floor, bed piece added, and is a green stick the size of your finger flattened a trifle upon the two sides. The riser, a small piece from off the same stick, not over three and a half inches long, flattened a trifle, completes the different pieces. Being now ready to set the trap, we lift up the fall piece with the weight of logs upon it with our left arm placed under it close beside the trap, lay the baited end of the spindle (or bait stick) far back in the narrow part of the V shaped house, the outer end resting upon the bed piece (or choker). Upon this outer end of the bait stick (with the right hand) now place one end of the rizer, and holding it straight up, ease down the long fall piece and weight of logs carefully upon its upper end and the trap is set. Now cover the top of the house with a thick bunch of fir boughs laid on bottom side up ; over these apiece of bark to keep out the wet, all slanting backwards ; an old junk upon the bark to keep it in place, and a stick placed for the game to climb up, and it is finished. Fisher, Pekan, Black Cat and Peconk. By these names he is known and spoken of. The Pekan is not as numerous as w r e could wish, though their cry is frequently heard at even- ing over the ridges. The spruce knolls and dark spruce growth, and along the top of the ridges are the haunts of the fisher, and at such places along the line a trap is placed par- ticularly for him. If a dead fall, it must be built solid and with a gfood weight of logs to hold him, as he soon learns to travel along the line, stealing the baits and tearing down the sable traps without getting pinched enough to mind it. But coming to the trap set purposely for him, with thick splits driven solid in the stump, sufficient weight upon the down fall, a beautiful bait to his fancy, he at last reaches in, giving Ox The Link of Traps. 227 it a yank that is about sure to spring it, even when you think it overloaded, when he finds rest, quiet, peace. But for the old, wary general, that has robbed the traps and eluded us a few times, we must give him the steel trap and the tip up. And in this case the steel trap need not be too large ; a good single spring trap that opens out large enough for his foot is correct. For the tip up, first a suitable crotch or forked stake is cut, sharpened and pushed down beside and withed to a tree (always provided the suitable tree with a fork is not growing just right for the house and trap). A long pole is cut and placed on this fork, the small end for the trap to be fastened to. The larger end should be of good heft, as it is the tip down of quite a little weight. (As it now rests, it reminds you of the old well sweep without the old oaken bucket). The trap is wired to the end of the pole by the ring of the chain. For holding the pole down, in front of the house, and trap, a stake long enough to stay there, and well hacked upon all sides to help keep it down, is driven just right for the length of chain, and just right to be up even w r ith the house floor. This stake is cut square across it and well in, and a deep slice taken out from below the cut, when a corresponding piece for a hook is notched, and sliced out the same and to fit that in this stake, and the hook fastened to the end of the pole beside the trap ring. This hooks down the pole, and if the notches are square cut and not beveling, it is all right to stand the wind until the fisher is caught, when at his first jump, up it goes. A fisher seldom breaks away as he has no chance to employ his muscle, except to dance in the air. An old dry stub upon a knoll chopped into, is good for a house for the trap, choosing the south exposure. It is best to drive in a couple of wedge shaped stakes just over the entrance, for a bark roof to keep out the storm. 226 The Aroostook Woods. The fisher in winter is frequently killing the porcupine for food. By some means, some dodge best known to himself, he gets him upon his back to avoid his sharp armor, and bites him underneath and at his throat where there are no quills, killing him very quickly, yet not without getting many a quill imbedded in his cheek, as is often seen after being captured. So this, in winter, is a good bait and easily procured, as they can be tracked to the old pine logs when out on sunny days, leaving a wide path in the snow behind them. The fisher takes most kindly to the wing or leg of a partridge, rabbit or frozen chub, and if hungry, may be caught with his every day food, the squirrel. Deer meat he is quite fond of as well. Having killed and dressed a deer at some place, the refuse, if left upon a knoll raised up from the ground, that he may get underneath it, will prove almost a sure chance to get one, if he passes within a half mile to leeward of it. Then if any is left in the spring after the snow goes off, when Bruin is again ranging the hills, he may call once or twice to nose it over, when he, too, may be caught. A little after sundown, the fisher wakes up from his long day's sleep, and from his den in some hollow log, or often from a large, leaning, hollow cedar tree or the hollow branch of some old monarch of the forest, pokes his nose out to note the time and the weather. And after a look around below, steps out of his house and reaching as far up the branch as his short forearms will allow, and settling his sharp claws in the wood, has a fine scratch and a stretch out before coming down to the ground. Then backing down to near the ground he turns and springs to the old log twelve or fifteen feet away landing as light as a bird and leaps away to the first hillock, Ox The Line of Traps. 227 stops and gives us his peculiar cry, which, from the sound of, the Indian says, he is called the peconk ; then quickly away v again, he is soon upon the height of land, when his cry oftens comes louder than before, like Pc—c—o—n—k ! and after a short time he calls just once again ; then far back of the ridge it may come to us faintly, when probably meeting his mate he has been calling to, his cry is heard no more for the night. They now start off together on the war-path to make their nightly raid upon some of the many unwary innocents that may be off their guard, or quietly sleeping in the moonlight, but more particularly this evening perhaps, to kill and eat Mrs. Bunny and her little daughter, or what is yet more likely, to jump and seize some young and giddy partridge of the feminine type, which never would obey its mother and often roosted too low, alas, and even to-night in spite of her late warning. Oh! birdie, roost high in the evergreen, Little fear in the bright sunny day; Yet at night you'll surely be seen, Should the fisher creep softly this way. One of the reasons of the fisher not becoming more plenti- ful is owing to the old males, who are not fatherly to the young when they are quite small, but kill them, everyone, if finding them when the mother is away hunting for their food. It is rarely they are seen in the day time, as they are mostly night ramblers ; though occasionally, like the sable, they have been discovered lying close down upon the limb of a thick spruce without making a movement until shot. And now and then, one returning to his den in the morning, later than usual from his night excursion, has been suddenly interviewed 22S The Aroostook Woods. by a dog which knew what was wanted of him (having been educated in the woods) and quickly jumped up a tree, where he was easily cared for. Many places along the line of traps, are growing young, thrifty, yellow birch bushes and clusters of sprouts, of which the rabbits are very fond. Some of these are cut down a few at a time, when passing over the line, for the rabbits, which though plenty in the swamps, do not always show themselves often enough to suit the trapper, unless they are invited. The buds growing high in the sun upon the bushes, they much prefer, and getting the scent of the strong, pleasant odor of the fresh cut birch, they find it readily. A few copper wire snares placed here, provides both bait and food along" the line at such chances. Then should the fisher or sable rob the snare, he leaves a writing upon the snow to that effect, which is noted by the trapper and his case comes on immediately, as he is more than likely to call again. Coming to where we had a steel trap set for a sable one cold, frosty morning after a light snow storm, we found the trap was gone, and another description of quite a little circus portrayed upon the snow over the crust. The first part of the performance was all over for the time, the actor having retired behind the scenes. The trap was set upon the west side of an old road that ran north and south over a dark spruce rise. The track of a large fisher showed he had been leaping along from the west to cross the road about four rods to the south of the trap. Reaching our line, which here ran in this old road, he had stopped before crossing and turned his nose to the north wind which had tickled his snuffers with the odor from a mixture so highly pleasant to him, he must needs investigate. With a few jumps and then Ox The Line of Traps. 229 slow walking steps, he approached the trap, walking around the house in which it was set, and reaching in, seized hold of the bait, in doing which he put his forefoot upon the pan of the sable trap and was caught by two toes only. As the trap sprung, he made a wild and high jump upward, falling and rolling over as he struck the snow, breaking the chair, which was a light one and full of frost, leaving the ring and one link as hitched to a light sapling. Then he tried jumping with the trap, heading eastward across the road, when find- ing the jaws of the trap pinching his toes, he slowed down for a fight with it. Here he gave a lively leaping and tumbling performance, whirling around and biting the jaws of the trap, leaving the marks of his teeth in the iron as he crushed it down in the snow. Again he started to jump away for a distant swamp to the eastward, when finding he fell sprawling so often, he now tried walking carefully. In this he did nicely, dragging along the trap beside him, soon turn- ing in a broad circle and heading for his track where he first came upon the trail. Here passing through the small growth he became hung up with the trap, when after backing around to all points of the compass, he, with his own forefoot dug down in the crust a chance to almost conceal himself ; and here we soon found him with just his nose, the impris- ioned foot and the trap in sight. As we drew near, his eyes gave us a strong hint of what he would like to do to us, yet he never made a sound. He was a beautiful specimen of the Pekan, so large and well furred out, with a tail to be proud of, considerable gray around his head, and his cheeks well filled with the ends of the porcupine quills. A small beech was cut off with the proper fork left at its end, and while doing this his eye was constantly following us, as he would 230 The Aroostook Woods. push out his nose a bit, and again draw himself far down. The beech fork was placed firmly over his neck, as we wished to take him alive, but he would slip from under it very quickly. Again this was tried, and several times, before he could be held as quiet as we wished, to be muzzled and to snap the collar with the chain upon him, far back of his fore shoulders. At last we concluded we had him ; and he was yet so stuffy he woidd scarcely spit at us, and it was lucky for us, though not for him, that we took the precaution to have the shot-gun ever in readiness during the time, for just as we were in the act of snapping the collar together, he with a quick roll over, released his toes, slipped from under the beech fork at the same instant, and was making lively leaps for a thicket, when the captain telegraphed him to stop over for our train. Over the trail on the line during the first snows, each one is particular to follow exactly in the Indian path, tramping down a good road, not knowing how long they must use moccasins before good snow-shoeing. Thus a road is marked out which is on the improvement, being travelled over after each storm. Often it is quite level and smooth, even from the moccasin tracks ; and when the snow everywhere outside of it is covered with a noisy crust (if travelled on) the path is hard packed and can be walked upon in the moccasins without noise, which is a point, if creeping for a shot. The path is usually pretty clear from annoyance, in the way of sprouts and windfalls, as they are kept cut out in bad chances to pass along. This path is handy for, and often followed by the caribou. Coming upon it, they most always step into it for the good walking, and if it is running their way, will keep to it for quite a distance. To get a shot at one betimes, and at times, is a point with On The Line of Traps. 231 the hunter, which he must make. So coming to a nice sly- around chance where the caribou are so free with this private narrow way, they cut for them three or four fir or spruce trees well decked out with the gray moss that is ever waving like pennants in the breeze, leaving them resting one upon the another like a natural windfall. Sooner or later the caribou are going to tarry here for awhile, to be out of the wind, for a sunny spot to lie down and ruminant, or for a fine feeding chance to stand around and eat of the abundant moss. At the first of the winter on these first snows, from a half inch at the first, until near a foot, the boys mostly use mocca- sins, as they can clip it about so light and easily, back and forth over the line; and for the best ones (still hunting as well) they prefer the moose shanks, tanned, with the hair left on, and the hair worn upon the outside. These do not wet through easily like the buckskin ; always using an innersole for their moccasins of any kind, except when snow-shoeing. The best innersole they find to be one side felt, the bottom side rubber. They are correct, and even a home-made pair are not to be despised ; the thicker part from the rim of a felt hat for the upper, and from the leg of our cast-off rubber boots, the under side. These they lay aside when the snow-shoes are used, and pull on their soft tanned moose hide moccasins, with as many pairs of new woolen socks as possible, on the cold days. And now they are having enjoyable times on the snow-shoes, strictly attending to the trapping ; tramping early and late, working for the pleasure of it as much as for the profit. Well, strong and hearty they are now, and have become so inured to the cold that they would not notice it if it were not for the darkness of some days. Those black, cold days, without the 232 The Aroostook Woods. sun, they hardly wish for, yet it takes a pretty cold one to cause them to hump up and scud away for camp. Every new- storm sees them right off the next morning' after, on their snow-shoes with rifle, axe and knapsack of eatables, on and away over the line in the same old road. Tramping down the new snow, the one behind breaking" joints as they term it, which means stepping just where the head one did not step, leaving the road beautifully smooth again, and as easy travelling for them as on a house floor. Why? Well, the land varies just enough, often rolling, with occasionally a rise, and then the down hill grade is gay ; it is not monotonous at all, and from a well made snow-shoe (from the hide of a caribou) after one gets agoing, the spring of them lifts him so lively on. Some of the fattest and best dressed old bears are every win- ter, and even in the fall of the year, wearing overcoats so large, line and shiny, that we often envy them their possession ; and these big fellows are many of them wary and grow cunning from having been pinched by too light a dead fall, or from being at some time caught in an old and worthless steel trap. From such a trap they soon slip out from, or smash it against a tree, smiling the while to think how little their strength is known, and ever after taking care to avoid all trappish looking places. A thorough trapper and renowned bear hunter once gave us a recipe to cure such old, keen scented and wide-awake fellows of this complaint. lie says : " Cunning as old Gen- tleman Bruin is, he mostly follows the same path. Finding this, and at a place where the bushes grow pretty close to it, place the trap in his path. A little from the trap, before and beyond (as you cannot tell from which direction he may ap- proach) push down some fir or spruce boughs, their tops tip- ping over the path just right to brush his eyes, as he trots through them by moonlight." Ox The Line of Traps. 233 And this sets him blinking, when he madly growls '-Rats!" Diverting all his thinking from the hunter or his traps. And the next moment he steps in the trap, and is circum- vented. Bruin is most exceedingly fond of beech nuts and when he can find them over the ridges, he can scarcely be induced to take a bait, for he will be cruising about the hills, nosing over the leaves until the deep snow drives him to his den. At the rips is a good chance often to trap him, as well as at old camps and older camp grounds, very secluded old wood roads beside the big swamps, and as he sneaks through the rocky ravine. And at the rips is when his tracks may be looked for, often not in vain. Although he swims the dead waters as easily as a deer, yet he dislikes to wet his fur, if a little cool in the fall or spring, so often his regular crossing is at these shoal places. Here finding his tracks, the toes pointing for or from the rips, induces us to make a try for him, expect- ing him to cross again. The steel trap set for him does not require a lot of logs heaped up, but simply a few evergreens pushed down beside a good sized tree each side of the trap, the bait fastened upon the tree, well beyond, not too low down, and a log laid crosswise for him to step over imme- diately into the trap. A young friend kindly furnishes us with an account of his first bear trapping. Said he, " It was in the spring of ninety- one, that I made my first attempt at trapping the bear. The snow went off early in April and I immediately set to work building the traps or deadfalls. I set up twelve, placing them about a half mile apart, making the distance to the last one six miles. It took the better part of the day to attend to 234 The Aroostook Woods. them ; that is to keep them well baited and in good working order. For nearly three weeks I was almost daily on the beat, for the walk, enjoying the tramping through the fragrant pine woods, but as yet without success, as to my first bear. I often found the traps sprung, probably by the porcupine getting inside, thus escaping the fall of the trap as it sprung." " I was getting a little discouraged as I was very anxious to catch a bear, when one morning as I arose and found a heavy rain had set in, is it any wonder that I hesitated that morning about facing the storm ? But my great desire to get a bear overcame me, and I pulled on my rubber boots and struck out over the line. The first traps handy by had not been disturbed, but others along the line were sprung and some torn down, showing something larger than porcupine was abroad this time. This began to look favorable, and growing excited, and being ever anxious to see the next trap, and again the next, I hastened on without waiting to repair any damages, feeling a presentiment as I measured off the long yards of wet leaves and mold, that this was to be my lucky day." " I must admit that I made good time, and soon passing another trap, demolished like many others behind, I remem- bered there was but one more chance for me. Only one more trap ! Being well warmed up to the business in hand, it took but a few moments to walk to the vicinity of the last trap, and quickly my eyes were peering' through the dripping branches toward it, eager for a glimpse of the entrance ; finally coming in sight, my last hope vanished upon seeing it was torn down like many others. I was rather reproaching myself for taking such a day for the tramping, as I slowly walked up towards the trap, when a dark object and a movement beneath On The Line of Traps. 235 the fallen logs attracted my gaze, and in two leaps I was beside the trap in front of the entrance, and standing there, as if in a dream. I had no words to express my amaze- ment at the sight I beheld. I had hoped to find a bear in this, my last trap, but here lay three, an old one and her two yearlings, all caught beneath the same downfall. One of the cubs was alive and unharmed, but could not extricate himself, so I carried him home alive all right. The other skins I have tanned and these two trophies I use at home for rugs." OVER THE TRAPPING LINE. HIGH up the hills are cronies sitting With breezes blowing gently by ; Far from camp they sit waiting For the dewy leaves to dry. O'er the trapping line repairing, Tenting here on their return ; Now the morning much enjoying With the rising of the sun. Just behind them poles and crotches, Blackened back logs and the embers ; Bed of fir boughs and the impress Speaking all of quiet slumbers. For their safe and restful sleeping Thankful hearts, the cronies feel To the One that has the keeping Of the wildwood, hill and dale. Breakfasted at early dawning, Now the sun has just arisen ; 'Tis a bright September morning, Bidding fine for day and even'g. > o > a a o c o 3 r-t- a a o 23S The Aroostook Woods. Shelter tent with bag and blanket, Rifle, axe and coffee kettle Lie behind them on the granite. Just below them runs the trickle. Speak the cronies oft of starting On their way down the rill ; Yet they linger ere the parting From the sightly granite hill. For the birds are ever winging Back and forth o'er the divide, And at sunrise all are singing Through the forest far and wide. The sparrow and the chickadee Always friendly, now and then Light upon the round wood tree, While often chats the little wren. The moose bird sitting on a pole Whistles notes so wild and weird ; Tame and saucy, ever droll, Mimicks many another bird. While from the pine tree oft they hear The sparrows song so gladly heard ; Soft and sweet, and long and clear, Come cheery notes of this loved bird. They can see an ancient monarch Firmly standing straight and tall, See the lightning's ruthless mark Above the other tree tops all. Over The Trapping Line. 2 39 And just below them on its side Rests a pine tree on the ground ; Men were born, have lived and died Since its prime, and yet 'tis sound. There is built upon the pine A wooden trap with heavy crusher ; This is on the trappers line, And is for the cruel Fisher. All the way as they were coming, Wooden traps were oft repairing ; Hunting axe was ever swinging, Rusty steel traps often oiling. Thick about them granite boulders, Scattering fir trees, little spruces ; Just beside them at their shoulders, Mountain ash tree red with berries. Here was once the eagles eyrie, Now his call is never 'heard ; Who could ere so thoughtless be As to harm this kingly bird. Oh the lovely autumn morning, Breezes blowing rich and rare ; Johnny Frost has been adorning All the woodland far and near. Green and red and golden yellow And the moosewood's mottled leaves ; All around is rich and mellow, A balmy fragrance from the trees. 240 The Aroostook Woods. Sun now well up o'er the hill top On its journey nearer heaven ; Drinking every little dew drop Cronies onward march again. Leave the rocks of granite bleaching On their south and sunny side ; With the ferns and mosses peeping From the north side where they hide. Leave the down pines sleeping, dreaming, Beneath the spruce and rocky waste, Where the eagle once was screaming, Where the nighthawk makes her nest. Down beneath the chubby spruces Leave behind the fell delighting ; Stepping over ferns and mosses As little streamlet calls inviting. Now the way is down the woodland And oft beside the little streamlet ; Beauty shows on every hand From the gray rocks to the inlet. All the way is pleasant walking, Quiet chatting, naught to do ; Listening, watching, all observing, Down the line to the canoe. By the large, old hollow pine, Close beside the trapping line ; Here cronies peeping in, discern Black twinkling eyes of porcupine. Over The Trapping Line. 241 He is safe from fisher there, The black cat cannot harm him now ; For a ball of needles sharp and bare, Would penetrate his cheek and brow. Now they cross an ancient pine road, Where it passes over streamlet ; 'Tis said a lifetime since 'twas .used, When mostly pine was cut for market. Wet and miry where it crosses, Needed bridging, bridge in view ; Once juniper logs, now level mosses, Yet underneath as sound as new. And the oldest stump of mosses free, Plainly show T s the axe blows given ; Where are the men that cut the pine tree ? Where the men that drove the oxen ? Far above, the whispering pine tree Seemed the answer, high in ether ; " Here are all that ever left thee, Here man and pine tree live on ever . ■>■> "All are here in happiest bands, Where all is joy and love forever ; In these bright golden forest lands, Our silvery lakes are ruffled never." Now the streamlet hastening downward, Falls in many a pebbly pool ; Where cronies stealing softly forward, See smallest trout in waters cool. 2^.2 The Aroostook Woods. Here's the deer trail, plain to sec. And where they tarry for a drink ; A steel trap hangs behind a tree, To set for martin or for mink. Where the spruce logs once were piled up, Awaiting snows Eor road to stream, Grow the birches, many a fine group, Here arc partridge often seen. These sunny spots near brook or spring The partridge Love, some birchen mound; If but one escapes by taking wing lie brings a mate to this loved ground. Here the old camp once was standing, Now thrifty birches, second growth ; Here cronies see the partridge budding As they are passing back and forth. And after feeding from the birch top, Eating birch buds in the sun, They all sit happy on a hillock, Wrapped in sunshine every one. Each way running from old camping- Are grassy old roads, sunny, green ; Running in and out, and branching, Often here a deer is seen. On these old roads, grass, and clover, With sunny openings, shady cover; Such pleasant spots have many a lover, Enticing every wild-wood rover. Over The Trapping Line. 243 Near this camping runs tMe streamlet, All sparkling in the sun to-day, With deeper pools and larger troutlet ; Here cronies while an hour away. In