CHAPTER XXI.

Dog on the Trap Line.

Now, we will say first that there is as much or more difference in

the man who handles the dog as there is in the different breeds of

dogs. I have heard men say that they wanted no dog on the trap line

with them, and that they didn't believe that any one who did want a

dog on the trap line knew but very little about trapping at best.

Now those are the views and ideas of some trappers, while my

experience has led me to see altogether different. One who is so

constituted that they must give a dog the growl or perhaps a kick

every time they come in reach, will undoubtedly find a dog of but

little use on the trap line. I have known some dogs to refuse to eat,

and would lay out where they could watch the direction in which their

master had gone and piteously howl for hours. I have seen other dogs

that would take for the barn or any other place to get out of the way

of the first sight or sound of their master. This man's dog is

usually more attached to a stranger than to his master. The man who

cannot treat his dog as a friend and companion will have good cause

to say that a dog is a nuisance on the trap line.

I have seen men training dogs for bird hunting, who would beat the

dog most cruelly and claim that a dog could not be trained to work a

bird successfully under any other treatment. Though I have seen

others train the same breed of dogs to work a bird to perfection and

their most harsh treatment that they would use would be a tap or two

with a little switch. I will say that one who cannot understand the

wag of a dog's tail, the wistful gaze of the eyes, the quick lifting

of the ears, the cautious raising of a foot, and above all, treat his

dog as a friend, need not expect his dog to be but little else than a

nuisance on the trap line.

Several years ago I had a partner who had a dog--part stag hound and

the other part just dog, I think. One day he, my partner, asked if I

would object to his bringing the dog to camp, saying that his wife

was going on a visit and he had no place to leave the dog. I told him

that if he had a good dog I would be glad to have the dog in camp. In

a day or two pard went home and brought in the dog. Well, when he

came, the dog was following along behind his master with tail and

ears drooping, and looking as though he had never heard a kind word

in his life. I asked if the dog was any good and he replied that he

did not know how good he was. I asked the name of the dog. He said,

"Oh, I call him Pont." I spoke to the dog, calling him by name. The

dog looked at me wistfully, wagging his tail. The look that dog gave

me said as plain as words that that was the first kind word he had

ever heard.

We went inside and the dog started to follow, when his master in a

harsh voice said "get out of here." I said, "Where do you expect the

dog to go?" I then took an old coat that was in the camp, placed it

in a corner and called gently to Pont, patted the coat and told Pont

to lay down on the coat which the dog did. I patted the dog, saying,

"that is a good place for Pont," and I can see that wistful gaze that

dog gave me now. After we had our supper I asked my partner if he

wasn't going to fix Pont some supper. "Oh, after awhile I will see if

I can find something for him." I took a biscuit from the table,

spread some butter on it, called the dog to me, broke the biscuit in

pieces and gave it to the dog from my hand, then I found an old basin

that chanced to be about the camp and fixed the dog a good supper.

After the dog had finished his supper I went to the coat in the

corner, spoke gently to Pont, patted the coat and told Pont to lay

down on the coat. That was the end of that, Pont knew his place and

took it without further trouble.

The next morning when we were about ready to start out on the trap

line I asked pard what he intended to do with Pont. He said that he

would tie him to a tree that stood against the shanty close to the

door. We were going to take different lines of traps. I said, "What

is the harm of Pont going with me?" "All right, if you want him but I

don't want any dog with me." I said, "Am (that was pard's given name,

for short), I do not believe that dog wants to go with you any more

than you want him." Am's reply was that he guessed he would go all

right if he wanted him. I said, "Am, just for shucks, say nothing to

the dog and see which one he will follow." So we stepped outside the

shack and the dog stood close to me.

I said, "Go on Am, and we will see who the dog will follow." He

started off and the dog only looked at him. Am stopped and told the

dog to come on. The dog got around behind me. A said, "If I wanted

you to come you would come or I would break your neck." I said, "No,

Am, you won't break Pont's neck when I am around, it would not look

nice."

I started on my way, Pont following after I had gone a little ways. I

spoke to Pont, patted him on the head and told him what a good dog he

was. He jumped about and showed more ways than one how pleased he

was. He showed plainly the disgust he had for his master.

It so happened that the first trap that I came to was a trap set in a

spring run, and it had a coon in it. I allowed Pont to help kill the

coon, and after the coon was dead I patted Pont and told him what

great things we had done in capturing the coon, and Pont showed what

pride he took in the hunt, so much so that he did not like to have Am

go near the pelt. I saw from the very first day out that all Pont

needed was kind treatment and proper training to make a good help on

the trap line.

I was careful to let him know what I was doing when setting a trap,

and when he would go to smell at the bait after a trap had been set,

I would speak to him in a firm voice and let him know that I did not

approve of what he was doing. When making blind sets, I took the same

pains to show and give him to understand what I was doing. I would

sometimes, after giving him fair warning, let him put his foot into a

trap. I would scold him in a moderate manner and release him. Then

all the time when I was resetting the trap I would talk trap to him,

and by action and word, teach him the nature of the trap. Mr.

Trapper, please do not persuade yourself to believe that the

intelligent dog cannot understand if you go about it right.

In two weeks Pont had advanced so far in his training that I no

longer had to pay any attention to him on account of the traps and

the third day that Pont was with me he found a coon that had escaped

with a trap nearly two weeks before. My route called me up a little

draw from the main stream, and I had not gone far up this when Pont

took the trail of some animal and began working it up the side of a

hill. I stood and watched him until the trail took him to an old log,

when Pont began to snuff at a hole in the log, and he soon raised his

head and gave a long howl, as much as to say "he is here and I want

help." After running a stick in the hole I soon discovered that the

log was hollow. I took my belt axe and pounded along on the log until

I thought I was at the right point and then chopped a hole in the

log. As good luck would have it, I made the opening right on the

coon, and almost the first thing I saw on looking into the log was

the trap. Pont soon had the coon out, and when I saw that it was the

coon that had escaped with our trap, I gave Pont praise for what he

had done, petting him and telling him of his good deed, and he seemed

to understand it all.

Not long after this Am came into camp at night and reported that a

fox had broken the chain on a certain trap and gone off with the

trap, saying that he would take Pont in the morning and see if he

could find the fox. In the morning when we were ready to go Am tried

to have Pont follow him but it was no go, Pont would not go with him.

Then Am put a rope onto him and tried to lead him but Pont would sulk

and would not be led. Then Am lost his temper and wanted to break

Pont's neck again. I said that I did not like to have Pont abused and

that I would go along with him. When we came to the place where the

fox had escaped with the trap Am at once began to slap his hands and

hiss Pont on. Pont only crouched behind me for protection. I

persuaded Am to go on down the run and look at the traps down that

way while Pont and I would look after the escaped fox.

As soon as Am was gone I began to look about where the fox had been

caught and search for his trail, and soon Pont began to wag his tail.

I began to work Pont's way and said, "has he gone that way?" Pont

gave me to understand that the fox had gone that way and that he knew

what was wanted. The trail soon left the main hollow and took up a

little draw. A little way up this we found where the fox had been

fast in some bushes but had freed himself and he had left and gone up

the hillside. Pont soon began to get uneasy, and when I said, "hunt

him out," away he went, and in a few minutes I heard Pont give a long

howl and I knew that he had holed his game. When I came up to Pont he

was working at a hole in some shell rocks. I pulled away some loose

rocks and could see the fox, and we soon had him out and Pont seemed

more pleased over the hunt than I was. There was scarcely a week that

Pont did not help us out on the trap line.

Not infrequently did Pont show me a coon den. I had some difficulty

in teaching Pont to let the porcupines alone, but after a time he

learned that they were not the kind of game that we wanted, and he

paid no more attention to them.

I have had many different dogs on the trap line with me. I can say

that to any one who can understand "dog's language," has a liking for

a dog and has a reasonable amount of patience and is willing to use

it, will find a well trained dog of much benefit on the trap line,

and often a more genial companion than some partners. But if one is

so constituted that he must give his dog a growl or a kick every time

he comes in reach, and perhaps only give his dog half enough to eat

and cannot treat a dog as his friend, then I say, leave the dog off

the trap line.

[Illustration: WOODCOCK AND HIS OLD TRAPPING DOG PRINCE.]

Fifty Years a Hunter and Trapper Autobiography, experiences and observations of Eldred Nathaniel Woodcock during his fifty years of hunting and trapping. · 第 21 / 36 章