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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. |

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“AONHOSININAY

SKETCHES OF CAMP LIFE

IN THE WILDS 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

DEDICATED TO MY OLD FRIEND THE WORTHY COMMODORE OF THE BIRCH-BARK FLEET WALTER MANSUR

TRADE SUPPLIED BY ae 4 + 7 THE NEw ENGLAND NEwS COMPANY, - Ve ae

Doston, MAss.

COPYRIGHT, 1892

CHARLES C. WEST, HouLTON, MAINE

BOSTON PRINTED By A. T. Biss & Co. 111 MILk STREET 1S92

—<

BON TENTS.

INTRODUCTION ‘ ; : : ;

THE RAMBLE : 4 s : Our PRETTY EVERGREENS F : WHILE ON THE WAY TO CAMP :

A PROFITABLE OUTING . : ’

Boys, YOU NEED.NOT BE LOST :

SHOULD THE HUNTER BE LOST ; : Our RED SQUIRRELS ; :

THE AROOSTOOK SABLE : : : THE AROOSTOOK PARTRIDGE :

THE BrRoAD BARREN E : " : THE AERIAL BLIND. : : ‘ ‘ THE Rocky BLUFF : : : < JorE AND CRONIE ’ : : ‘

A LITTLE BEAR Hunt : F 3

TRAPPING THE OTTER : : ; : IN THE VELVET ; ; ‘ 3 : LOOKING FOR ANTLERS é : , ; THE MusqQuasH . : : . : Down THE MATTAWAMKEAG : : : DEER TRACKING . : : : ‘ FISHING THROUGH THE ICE . : ‘

THE BEAVER ; : : : :

On THE LINE oF TRAPS OVER THE TRAPPING LINE ; ; s

THE CAPTAIN AND CREW : ‘ :

BUCK AND DOE CARIBOU.

INTRODUCTION.

ROOSTOOK, the pride, the Eden of Maine, as beautiful A 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- magnificient 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 yet 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

6 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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. 1

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, ncting 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 you are to line a woodcock through the green leaves, having your eye 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,

8 Tue Aroostook Woops.

neither do we 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 tnnocent 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 then: 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.

\ \ JE 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, thereby 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. 1 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 ARoostTook Woops.

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. fh:

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 mz/d September—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 Moose, 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 wide 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 Woops.

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. £3

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 comjng day.”

OUR PRETTY EVERGREEN Ss

UR 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

Our 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. They are scattered over the (occasional) hilly and rocky old pasture, from the smallest to the largest, singly 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 such 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 EP and their ends rest upon the ground, followed by all thé others from above as the snow keeps falling damp and heavy upon them, one drooping down beside another, others lapping down covering all the space between them, the many

16 THE AROOSTOOK Woobs.

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.

PAIR of Madamaska ponies, French all over, young, A 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, him your humble servant is holding a briarwood pipe in one

upon which sits the captain; beside

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

Q

1S THE Aroostook Woops.

bowl along, and looking far ahead and up 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 tothe 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 hurrying 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. 19

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 Woops.

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 mest 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 “migsemmam 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

WuHiLE On THE Way To Camp. 21

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 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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 OUTING.

EARS past, a young man was told by his physician that Yy 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, they 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

24 THE Aroostook Woops.

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 OUTING. 25

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 Woops.

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.

Beis. 1OU NEED NOT BE LOST.

OYS of little experience in travelling through the forest B 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

28 THE Aroostook Woops.

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 itis a dark day indeed when it will not cast a slight shadow from the sun upon your nail. Then by consulting your watch you find you are all right, after coolly thinking it all over. The best of woodsmen needs his com- pass on a dark day. 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 Neep Nort Be Arraip. 29 >

lake. On the old lumber operations, notice this, that very few logs are ever hauled up hill. See the scarf upon the stump, ‘‘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 D@ai

HAT 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 HuntTER 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 difhi- 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 thas 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

‘HHLNOH LSOT HHL

SHOULD THE HuntTER 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 upona 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 Woops.

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 its 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 (which 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 aturn. 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: ‘* 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 aaimals 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 Woops.

‘

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.

\ K JHERE 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 Tue Aroostook Woops.

‘

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 tnick 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 1s 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 SABEE:

HIS beautiful furred little villian, when seen at his best fi 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 bloodthirsty as any that range the forest. His favorite food in summer is the young birds and rabbits, of which he will a!ways 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. 41

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 which, we will tell you something of him from observation.

A companion and myself were 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: ‘‘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 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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 ” ‘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

sable a beauty !

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 adeer. 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 to be the indian devil (little panther, or cougar,) said to be occasionally on this range at this season, and crept out to the

44 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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 pretty, with a bright orange spot under his throat, that gradually, we weakened, and finally concluded he should live (‘‘ to get rime.”

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. 45

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 some time, 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 ROAD.

THE AROOSTOOK PARTRIDGE.

\ \ 7HERE 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. Atacertain time in the fall, the flock hardly leaves the swamps, finding at this season of the year the food they like

48 THE AROoSTOOK Woops.

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 witha 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 fight, but first uses strategy 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 saying 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 eyes, 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, sweeps around back, flying 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 seea 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 thé 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”—

b

*¢ nletes””—‘‘ 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 for 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 Woops.

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 Jove 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.

cn 4

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

g, then the other, take

52 THE Aroostook Woops.

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 caliers.

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 ;’

b

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. |

‘¢ Weare 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; afew 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 lady bird. One must Jaugh to see him parade himself, raise the black ruffle about

54 THE AROOSTOOK Woops.

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 mufHed, and making him appear much farther away than he really is. Hark! hear himagain? 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

THE AROOSTOOK PARTRIDGE.

wal NN

Wings, as many would suppose, to hear him. Strutting back and forth over the length of his log, he will stop at 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 exercising 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 wings 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 slowly, 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 Woops.

~

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.

ALL GOOD BUT ONE.

58 THE Aroostook Woops.

AT THE CAMP IN THE WILD WOODS:

"Tis the last of mild September, now the boys arrive at camp, Eacn 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 cf 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.

OT 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 we 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 Tue Aroostook Woops.

Not a wholly fruitless barren ‘‘seemingly,” when George and Jeff came in one day 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, xed 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, yet wrongfully 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 asweep 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 all 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 Broap Barren. 61

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 focd, 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 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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

Tue Broap BARREN. 63

‘

the moment your fry pan on the coals. Seizing your rod you hasten down 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 feet; 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 were 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 fora deer) is a pleasure to one, after they are completed. And to have the paths satisfactory, is not each one travelling at ran-

64 Tue Aroostook Woobs.

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 Broap 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, with 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 aclear 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 Tre Aroostook Woops.

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 withthe 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 young friend had

THE Broap BARREN. 67

been unusually excited over this, to him, 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 k:lled 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, we sat down to the welcome luncheon,

68 THE Aroostook Woops.

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 with 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 Broap BARREN. 69

will take kindly to stewed venison. And there are friends

?

that remember us 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 fellows 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 every one; 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.

: ‘dNVO OL GNNOdT GUVMHNOH

AMONG THE EVERGREENS. yp

Pe sonOwyY NIGHT IN THE WOODS.

The snow, as light as downy feather ere was seen, so pure and white,

Has fallen softly all the day, ne’er ceasing through the silent night. Covering all the woodland o’er, and leveliing 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. Tillevery 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 bring 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.

EARS past and at a time when the deer were scarce com- pared with the present, and more wild with all from too

5) the branches of the trees, high enough, that the breezes should

much stalking, we concluded to build us a rookery up among

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. ne

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

5?) match the tree bodies. Then sawing off the single spruce

a good pitch for the roofing, which was sail cloth, painted to

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 Tne Aroostook Woops.

the coolest days. We could sit here on the boxes leaning against 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 1s 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 sit;

Oh, the many happy hours with a pleasant companion, upon the old ‘aerial blind.” We hated te give it up, but simee it came in under the head of unlawful taking of game we have

THe AERIAL BLIND vs:

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 was 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 to 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 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 heran. 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 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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 along 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 cnd far below as

THe AERIAL BLIND hi

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, enjoying 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 wood,” 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 ow] 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 flew 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 Woops.

long, happy chitter. Exit owl, up again squirrel, all alive with the fun, and as frisky asever. 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 eyes, 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,

teenth of an inch. The bullet struck, spank, in the soft wet

fired for his head, and missed it by just one six-

earth just under his nose, splashing the dirt and water in his eyes. If you saw him you would have smiled. He turned a back hand-spring and gave two or three of the most astonish-

THe 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 they make before understanding it all. Nor the hooting or screech of the owl, or the half yawn, half scream of the bob 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

82 THE Aroostook Woops.

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 comes 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 handy 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 1ing with his noisy screamings, while the wary

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, 1f we 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. |

tee ROCK yBLUEF.

ACK among the hills, away beyond the hunting lodge B 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 going between and around, the large 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 east exposure, but dark and mossed over at their base and north side where they 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 crevices where they can find 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

S4 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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 he is near enough to you fora 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 lone 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 BLurFr. S5

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 py 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 steaming 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 friendl;

S6 Tue ArRoostoox Woops.

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. He 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 ** Jumbo Caribou,” and his track was quickly recognized by its immense size. We always spared his life on account of 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 first seen, high in the air, and with sniff and snort, away he would ly 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 BLurFrr. S

iw]

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 cf 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.

** Jolly, what a drove,” says Joe and adds :

SS Ture Aroostook Woops.

‘¢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 buck, we have a fine 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, they 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! you must say quick!”

‘¢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 you will shoot over. One,—two,—three !”

Crack!. ‘Crack!

‘¢ Not quite simultaneous, Joe, but how’s this ? Both young bucks are dead !”

‘¢ My rifle shoots to the left,” says Joe.

JOE AND CRONIE.

RONIE had just finished planting his garden; many CC bright red Aroostook angle worms had been saved in case he should conclude sometime in the near future to start off ona 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.”

peitelio, joe.” ;

‘¢Let’s go fishing,” says Joe.

Seomces | cant; Joe:”

‘¢Well, now, I 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?”

99

‘¢ Yes, indeed 46 Hold on! let me tell it. The ice is all out of the lakes, so

90 Tie Aroostook Woops.

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

29

buds

“Seems 1 smell Cem, foe.”

‘“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

PP)

“ Iewp, Joseph, 1 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?”

9)

‘¢ 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 arters |

‘¢ Hold up Joe, I want to say to P

‘‘T can’t stop just now, please; the moon rises at mine

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,

JOE AND Cronlitr.

QI

‘be sure to take it with you when you go, and it will be there

> and if you are a little rheumy and do not

for the fall outing ; feel real strong and hearty, I will do the propelling, you shall

9?

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 filling the briar- wood during Joe’s earnest and prolonged harrangue, and while his attention is attracted to an old mother robbin red- 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 scratches an orono match. Ncw 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 escaped 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 from the short grass which he is cropping,

O2 Tue Aroostook Woobns.

7

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..

Cet ib, Trains. says Joe; ‘*who cares. We havea 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. They 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 with 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.

bP

cucumbers and a small bed of onions. These last they found in the camp cellar where they had wintered without freezing, 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 cosy 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 right. 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 they 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 sweeps 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.

O4 THE ARoOoSTOOK Woobs.

4

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 pour

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, ceiving them the commencement of a stone wall, beside which Joe has planted some scarlet runneis; aren’t they romantic ?

‘¢ Well, good bye little garden,” say théy, 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 for the first time upon the water. First exclamation from Joe.

(ronie, 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 ‘* Zhe 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, a¢ which 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 Tue AROOSTOOK Woops.

“¢ 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”?

«Tardiyvever, 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 dew, 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.”

ss What is it?”

«« After the rain go shoot a deer; but before the rains go fishing.”

Next morning, May 28th, 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 you, Joe, catch half a dozen more while Iam 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 camp are dressed, wiped dry, rolled

‘INVO AHL AG ONIUdS TOOO HHL

SMNRIG V EVL ITTY | sy" OMT TWN 7 >. :

JOE AND 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 for them to rest upon, with moss between and over them, no two touching (filling 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 as 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 oné (as usually these older roads are choked in many places with windfalls,) anda 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

ge, 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

100 THE ARooSTOOK Woops.

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 well, 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 he 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 carelessly 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 white 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 were more beautiful than glossy satin, and

102 TuE Aroostook Woops.

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. They climb the rise, which, like the bottom of the dell, is thickly covered with the old leaves that were only one year since ag elegant as those above, while here and there a fallen monarch, beautifully mossed over, beside, and out of which, thick erowths of yellow birch 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 they reach the level again they 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, they hasten forward to the feast; not the school boys 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

4

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 places 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 first 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 Joe by giving two low calls of the blue jay. He understands, gets a glance of it and itis 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 fine view of that moose.” So they crept along very quietly a

104 THE Aroostook Woops.

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 they 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 they had a clear view of the cow moose standing not more 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 and shaggy exterior in early spring, for a new coat of fine, satin finish, which was very short and 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. No 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, ‘*Oh! Oh! wasn’t she a black, glossy beauty ; don’t they 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 had 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.

Jor 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

106 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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 place. 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 fire 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 seeing 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 many 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 ginging 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 are 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 weather 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 ina 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 Tre Aroostook Woops.

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, ‘Johnny, your pie can’t last if you take such big 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 ‘* 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 Cronte. 10g

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 JAZansur’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 TirzE Aroostook Woops.

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 they 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,

Ae

JOE AND CRONIE. III

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, ** 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

T12 THE Aroostook Woops.

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.

‘‘ 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 closely for a piece after leaving the rock, when the female flew back to the nest, the male following the boat, often hovering over them with a low cry and flying on ahead again, as if still anxious they should be led far from his treasures.

Only 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,

CAMP CARIBOU. (West Side.)

114 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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 themselves when they can find the hidden chances, as close as this to the water.

As they homeward to the landing drift slowly along, Joe again is switching in afew clean silvery 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—

‘¢ What do you say, Joe, it’s three o’clock.”

‘¢ All right, Cronie, if we go over 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 stove hearth; these having 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 over 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. 115

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 pretty 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

116 THe Aroostook Woops.

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; they 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, yet 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 home, they feel they change to rather a sombre hue, and mirrored in the spring they show a cheerless look at parting from you.

Jor AND CRONIE. 117

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, which 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.

HOOTING an animal through the heart is not always S 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 by 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 Litrtte Bear Hunr. 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.

‘¢’T'o-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

120 Tue Aroostook Woops.

with one 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 that had just taken the hint of danger, making off obliquely for the same direction. We gave this fellow 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 way, slipping in another cartridge as we ran. He was soon out of sight in the brakes, but his snarly ba! arah! ba! ah! ah! gave us the right direction, and we expected every moment to pick up the cub and return to the canoe. At this time we were using a single shot rifle of 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 we 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 sure chance good for a shot. When within thirty feet of. us, her jaws snapping, eyes full of fire, and showing the whitest of 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 and 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 LiItTLE Bear Hunt. 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 usa 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 avoidthem. 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

122 THE Aroostook Woops.

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.

AAP rING THE: OFTER.

LACK and shining as an otter, is an expression often B 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-

124 Tue Aroostook Woops.

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 fora 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 No. 4 trap is good to place here, in the water upon the

126 THE AROOSTOOK Woops.

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 THE OTTER. 127

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 iogs 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 they 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 muskrats’ grounds.

128 THE ARoosTooK Woops.

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 may be 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 eyes 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 TuE Aroostook Woops.

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,

ee eS

Pere VELVET.

UCH no doubt has been written, giving more complete M 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 Woops.

i

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 paiti- 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 fine buck caribou, his horns in the velvet. He was apparently not at all disturbed, and we had a fine view of him, He 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 el th, or nearly so, no doubt an itching at their base is the ca of the caribou rub-

IN THE VELVET. 133

bing them up and down the small trees. In this manner also, they clean off the remaining old velvet. Forthis 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 it*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