Back to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan

The old routine of trapping even among the great rocky mountains grew

stale, so I decided that I would go back to upper Michigan locate Long

Knife, and Shopnegon and trap on the Stergeon River. So Clark and I set

out from North Platte in September and arrived in Gladstone after four

days traveling. It so occurred that Chief Long Knife was in town and

that same day we counciled on the winter work and decided to go together

as Shopnegon was too old. We made a great catch of mink, marten, otter

and lynx. The kid spent his winter with us enjoying every day and night,

he skined cooked and made snow shoes, loaded shells and did many other

odd jobs. We sold our fur in the spring and was about to leave town for

Oshkosh Wisconsin. When Long Knife came to me and told me a Dr. Harris

had a son who was lost in the woods. And wanted me to assist in locating

the boy. I went to the Drs, home and applied for the job--the Dr. was

worried very badly but said that "i was only a kid and would get lost to

if I ventured out sight of town" I reassured him that I was away up in

my teens and had tramped the woods for eleven years and still could keep

track of myself. So with his consent I took a lunch and got what

information I could and struck out alone. I followed the river bluffs up

to where he had been picking wintergreen berries and then I could not

tell anything about it because so many folks were looking for him. after

several hours I circled around and got out of reach of all spectators

then I made a bee line for upstream,--(as that is the way all lost

hunters and tenderfeet go) after I had traveled about two miles I found

a raveling on a briar and then I was sure I had a trail. This discovery

gave me courage and I took up the labor with all the instinct of my

nature. I followed his trail till pitch dark and camped under a maple

tree till the gray dawn announced day--then I resumed my search; after

going about four or five miles I found his hat--which had been discribed

to me. this proved two things that I had the right trail and that he had

lost his mind, or was what we call "Woods Mad" That after noon at about

five oclock I found where he had picked berries and an hour later I came

upon him sitting on a log, He started to run but I was too quick on foot

for him I soon caught him and after while I reasoned with him and he

consented to return home with me. I had to fight all the way back he

declared I was taking him the wrong direction to reach home. When I came

to town every body was surprised and delighted. His father gave me fifty

dollars and the citizens bought me a handsome Colts revolver, they made

a real party for me that night and Long Knife was invited and Clark sat

and looked on.

After we spent the summer we went back to Trout Lake after scouting

around a few days I heard that a very excellent Mink Trapper was in

town. I soon located him and we chummed up and planned to go to Red Lake

Minnesota. This trapper was no other than the far famed Joe Whitecup. On

the last day of October we reached our destination; bought a load of

chuck hired two Indians to take us to the Lake London. There we built

one headquarter camp, and three off-sets. The third off-set reaching to

Indian creek. We found plenty of wolves, bear, lynx, sable mink, otter

and beaver. Here Whitecup taught me more than I had ever dreamed about

catching mink. I found out that he used a compound and that he got it by

mail; but I could not hire him to tell me what it was nor where he got

it I found out later; but if I had have known it sooner I would have

saved me from much embarrassment and great losses of money--Be patient

It cost me much to get it but I am going to tell you before I finish

this book just how to get it. And how to get it very reasonable. One

night while I was staying in the Indian creek off-set I was surrounded

with grey wolves. they came up and even sniffed at the camp door. I shot

five that night by chance shots, and had a lively shooting match most of

the time. About mid-winter we broke camp it grew cold and heavy snows

covered the whole country; so we went down to Duluth and sold our furs.

Here I parted company with Whitecup after getting him roaring full

hoping he would squeal what bait he used--but he was tight as a tick and

mum as a toad.

With my adopted son--so I figured; we bought tickets for Deadwood South

Dakota. Here we met as we had arranged beforehand our two old Partners

Terrel and Ed Scott. After a few days of rest and plan laying we

determined to go back to Fort Collins again and trap where we did

several winters before. We found even more game than when we first had

trapped this country.

We got nicely settled and things looked favorable for a charming catch

we were happy and had always been lucky. But I had often been told by

old Woodsman and Plainsmen and Pioneers that no man ever run long

without getting into a mixup. One morning I swung into the saddle I

never felt better I was full grown nearly seventeen and weighed 203.

pounds. Without an ounce of superflous flesh on my whole frame with the

possible exception of a pound or two of hair.

I steered my bronco up the hill and started over the trap line. I had

not gone far when I heard the jingleing of a trap chain; and the growl

of a bear. I hastily dismounted, drew my rifle and advanced in the

direction of the noise. Emerging from a clump of brush I stood face to

face within forty five feet of a good old grizzley which weighed 1,400,

pounds. He dropped upon his haunches and looked straight at me. I pulled

my gun drew a careful aim at the only place to shoot a Grizzley between

the eye and ear; fired, he fell and quivered, I thought him dead as a

mummy and I set down my gun and went up took the clamps and removed the

trap and just then old bruin rooled over and quick as a wink hit me a

spat in the face that knocked me two or three summersaults broke in my

left cheek and knocked out four teeth and cut my tongue half off. I

struck the ground like a flying squirrel feet first: and after a moment

of time to get my bearings I faced the music; the old dog arose and made

for me like a mad bull. I quickly pulled my old sixshooter and began to

pump lead into him at the rate of about an ounce a second. Bruin seemed

to take his pills with comparative ease, when my shells was exhausted he

was still coming--What remained for me to do--I drew my hunting knife

and climbed him like a monkey on a cheese. This was foolish and

dangerous for I got a bite while bruin nearly got a belly full, I cut

him deeply in the lungs but he nearly with one sweep of his old paw tore

out my whole inwards. he cut me deep from three inches below the chin

clean down to the abdomen. He wore his nails uncomfortably long and had

a great spread to his claws. I then knew something must be doing or I

would be done for. I made a desperate effort to secure my gun which was

loaded. bruin seemed to tumble what I was up to and pressed hard,

however with but one blow in the left side and another on my hip to his

credit. I caught the big gun it was a 49-90--and struck thirty two

hundred pounds, I swung it around within three feet of the star in his

breast pulled the trigger--and the steel capped ball bored a hole

through the old hog big as an alarm clock. The fight was over, I feel

with bruin I wakened five days later in a lath and plastered room with

my son and both partners working over me. I was much surprised when they

told me I had enjoyed the tussle five days before. I could not talk my

tongue was fastened up so it might heal, I was all bandages and plaster

paris I layed here seven weeks, then the boys carried me back to camp

where I gave orders and gradually recuperated. I never recovered from

the blow on my hip it will bother me till the end. However there is no

great loss without some small gain--this lame spot always serves me as a

borometer.

I also received another benefit I had some silver deposited in my face

to straight up my sunken cheek. hence am never busted. I have been in

several bad rows with both four-footed beasts and two footed beasts, but

this was at least as lively a scrap as I ever got into. and all because

I was careless. We lifted camp early in March sold our fur and the whole

of us went down to 'Frisco to see the sights. Here we studied the

history of China in the faces of the moon-eyed heathens, enjoyed the

curious haunts of humanity the entire summer.

That fall I hired Old Ed Scott, Bert Terrell, Jack Troy and ferd Gotch.

Myself and the Kid made up and we calculated quite a decent gang. I

think we were by far the largest and best gang in the west.

I had four hired men, Eleven head of horses, two wagons, four tents, Six

riding saddles, four pack saddles, twenty four guns and revolvers, six

hundred steel traps and cooking utensels enough for a dozen men. My

expenses were a thousand dollars a month--Our chief game was rat, mink,

otter, coyotes, and grey wolves, we marched up North Platte to Raw-hide

creek--and set traps for fur--We moved once a week and averaged to take

about one hundred and sixty pelts a day.

When we reached the Raw-hide about fifteen miles from North Platte river

in Lormey Co. I caught a monstrous grey wolf in a trap. I knew the

virtue of the trap it was a New-House noumber four. I was armed with a

49-90 winchester but refrained from shooting him because the ball tore

too big a hole in the hide. I attempted to knock him in the head with my

hatchet, I saw I had a good high holt on him so I stepped up closer to

him--when the darn skunk made a leap at my windsucker; the trap chain

broke and he lit on my left arm and got busy eating meat. My gun was

johnie on the spot, for several days I carried my arm in a buckskin sack

meanwhile I concluded I would shoot game not trying other experiences.

After a few days we reached Hat creek, where we were told that a Sheep

herder had been driven into camp by a silver tipped Grizzley. The

ranchmen wanted us to camp till we killed the old boss. So I detailed Ed

Scott and a new man I had recently hired by the name of Charley Whippel

to go with me--and I left the rest to run trap lines and watch things.

We rode out toward the Cheyenne river. Just as we reached Cow creek and

crossed over and was about twenty rods up the slope we heard a bear; we

stopped and suddenly old silver as free as Bryans Silver issue;

descending the hill in our direction. We all opened fire at once and

spoiled his fun to quick to mention. We secured his skin head and all

including his tailbone and paws the ranchmen sent it to Denver to a

Texiderment and he sold it to the Chicago Public Musium. We broke camp

the following day and started for Beaver creek here we made three

settings, then we broke again and moved to the head of the Belle Fourche

river. trapping coyote and wolf. from there to powder river, and then on

to tongue river. We broke camp that spring at Dayton, Wyoming; and for

novelty hired out to herd cattle for the U.X. Cattle Co. We rode here on

the general roundup, quit our job and set out for the Big horn basin.

Crossing the main range of the Big horn mountains we went up Canon Creek

looking for trapping for another season. We followed down the creek till

we reached Big horn river; then we swung around and followed up the

Bighorn to the end.

We had quite a serious time getting our pack horses over the Owl-creek

mountains. We now turned our course a trifle and struck for the head of

the big sandy, then followed this stream till we reached Green river

Then rode across to the Yampah river.

While riding down the Yampah we were accosted by two men who wanted us

to hire out to help them round up several hundred wild horses. We had

never before rode on a horse ranch and we wished to be full fledged so

we consented. We had a lively time. The Kid was lighter and more supple

than I; and got out of it some easier than I. I had picked out a rangey

lank bronco; he would quit the earth and climb the sky like a flying

machine; and drop down and strike the rocks with his legs stiff as a

post. He would then spin like a top several hundred times play razor

back and sun-fish, His head and tail would touch one instant between his

legs; and the next instant over his back. I held my breath while he

exercised all his tricks then he plunged off while I pounded him with my

broad brimmed sombrero. The foreman said Erve Bullard could not play

glue much better than I. We had many daring and pleasing episodes this

season roping horses busting and branding.

We quit riding early that summer and spent some time traveling. I

visited the grave of Calamity Jane. Wild Bills Wife; and His grave too.

Went to the Little bighorn to Custers Tomb. Over to Nothfield Minn.

where the Youngers were correlled. Down to Scouts Rest Ranch--Or Codys

Ranch. over to Cheyenne to Old Tom Horns Rope Party. And saw Bob of

Austrailia put it all over Jim Corbett. I went to Denver to hear Frank

James talk, and several other things we enjoyed before Christmas.

The following winter We raked up our old gang got together and went up

to Snake River. here we began tramp trapping. Part of us advanced and

the other party followed and took up our traps. this tramp trapping

lasted nearly all winter we trapped the Snake river, Green river San

Juan river the little Colorado and the Big Colorado up to Grand Canon.

Then we followed up the river to Cataract creek and in trying to cross

lost two rattling good pack-horses pack and all. We then were short of

rations and struck out for the Red mountain country: hoping to get more

chuck. In this dash we nearly all lost our lives by starvation: after

many days we reached the town of Aubay Arizonia.

We then loaded our kit and took the Train for Los Angeles California and

from there we went back to Denver Colorado. then up the Big Platte near

the Lormic Mountains. We built a headquarters camp at The medicine bow

and two offsets at Camp creek, near the Medicine Bow Reservation. Here

we had the best systematized settings we had heretofore set. We had set

a line of traps in a semicircle from camp to camp; And a stub line up

each creek about four miles; then we set a high-line running in oposite

directions. So you see we bagged everything that came through the

country for several miles wide. Our traps served as does a wing-net

catching on the sides and swinging everything into the center. An animal

that smelled a trap would sheer off and nine times out of ten would go

the way we wanted it, for we set our traps giving that peculiar specie

the favorable road toward other traps which were set, and the scent so

completely killed with compounds would usually get the game. We generaly

cleaned out almost everything as we went allong. Now the highlines were

for land animals, such as Coyotes, Wolves, Lion, marten and skunk.

The next autumn came and we were in fine spirits. We all came back to

our old camps on the North Platte. The weather was lovely The cottonwood

leaves were turning brown and in the height of my glory I roped out my

favorite horse saddled up and started for the Lormie Mountains. I was

hungry for deer, and plenty of them roamed in that vacinity. As I was

riding allong the foot hills my horse suddenly shyed off as if scared;

i gathered up in the saddle and peeked over some sage brush and behold

there was Old Ephraim in the form of a monster silver tip. The old

elephant arose on his feet as big as Goliah and roared out his challenge

to me. I drew aim hastily and fired a five hundred grain ball through

his chest. this was just an eye-opener for his class. My horse at the

crack of the gun leaped and fled down the hill in spite of all my

protest; you should have seen the horse put distance between us and the

bear. I finally got the horse stopped I dismounted and hurried back to

the scene. The bear had followed us quite a ways and was under a

cottonwood licking his wound He did not see me till I fired so I had a

good chance to pick my spot and I sent another ball one journey crashing

through his shoulders; this brought him to the ground helpless; and I

approached and finished up his hash.

There are four distinct species of Grizzlies. And are more or less

sprinkled throughout The rocky mountains in Mexico, U.S. and British

Columbia. The Silver tipp. Bald face, The great Grizzly and the Kodiak

Grizzly. The silver tipp scarcely ever has more than one cub and lives

on roots and grass, when he cannot get meat. The great Grizzley loves

colts and sheep, they cannot get a deer for the reason that they smell

so fowl that a deer can smell them too far. The bald face is much like a

great Grizzley only smaller and more alert. The Kodiak Grizzly, lives

further north than any of the rest and is at least as big and twice as

agressive as the other kind. They inhabit the wilderness from B.C. To

Gnome Alaska. All of these bear are bold and genuine bluffers. they

never snoop. they depend upon their size and name to carry them through.

seldom do hunters kill them untill they have emptied tha last load.

I then went back to my horse--or; to where I left him; but he had given

me the French leave--I had tied him;--as Cow-punchers say--"To the

ground." And he had taken advantage of his liberty, and ran into camp

ten miles away. I had on high heel boots; and they walk

bad--considerable worse than they look,--so the road was a long one.

After while we broke camp and went up the medicine bow river; to the

North Platte; and here set our traps. Now we have what we call the

low-lines--and the high-lines. The lowlines we set on low wet soil for

water animals. To give you an idea how much work is implied in setting

such a mass of traps as we carried I will describe a bout how far apart

we had learned to set traps. Where rat are thick one hundred might be

set in a single mile. Where mink are thick not over sixteen should be

set per mile. Where coon are thick about twenty per mile. Where beaver

are thick about forty per mile and where otter are thick about ten traps

per mile. The Muskrat--is the most interesting of all animals that live

in water. The beaver Black, Blue, Brown, White, Gray not excepted.

The Rat lives on flags and water mussels. He never kills small ducks as

has been stated by some folks who never saw one. The Rat builds his

house out of rushes from five to six feet broad sometimes much broader,

and about three feet high. About a dozen rats live in a house. Their bed

is from two six inches from the surface. They have feeding rooms in the

house, and feed on the walls of the rooms, eventually eating the house

up which is often the case in cold climates. They also have a bank hole

in addition to the house hole. When frightened they go to the bank hole.

They also have air holes covered very cunningly two or three inches deep

on the way to the bank and water. These air-holes are overlaid loosely

with flags and other light materials.

In this we began to be very successful trappers. Lewis and Clarke were

successful because first we spared no labor nor hardships; to set traps

or find a favorable location; secondly because we bought the best guns

and traps in the U.S. Thirdly because we put our money and time all back

in the business; and fourthly because we had had the best kind of

training in all kinds of common furs. I had been well educated for my

profession. My teachers were such men as Frank Johnson who was the best

bear trapper in the country. Charley Mackintosh the noted beaver trapper

of the States. William S. Walker who no doubt was the best trapper in

any country. he specialized on Bear, Lynx, Marten and Mountain Lion.

Henry Grey was a specialist on Marten he taught me the art of taking

that shy game. And this Same Henry Grey was great a mixer of Compounds;

Joe Whitecup schooled me in Mink except his bait. Shopnegon taught me

the crafts of Camping and sleeping without catching cold, how to travel

without a compass by the stars; and when it was dark and cloudy how to

keep from circling around. he taught me how to skin all kinds of game,

and how to make sinew for thred, and awls to sew with and explained

roots for indigestion; and leaves for constipation. Long Knife taught me

how to trap skunks, and weasels, and above all he put me next to rat so

I never need ask any other man the nature of that animal. Chief Broken

Bow taught me to walk, shoot, and run, how to exercise and how to get

allong with Indians. How to know when I was in danger, and above all how

to keep cool which is the greatest lesson any man or indian ever

learned, either in the woods, on the plains, over the sea; or in the

busy cities. This lesson has saved my life scores of times. I have often

wished that Chief Broken-Bow could have had some successor to continue

this teaching, for all the world suffers and even those who have been to

school and college come forth polished as a lizzard--but the first wave

of unexpected excitement, or adverse passion completely distroys them.

I have used the word compound; And I know of no better place to explain

myself than in this chapter. Compounds are scents of various kinds. Or

more commonly known as Baits. It is used to kill the scent of your

traps, and to offset human scent. Baits are more profitably used to

draw animals to traps than they are to kill the scent of the traps. Good

Baits always serve the double purpose. While the trap without bait,

arouses the animal's suspicion and makes it cautious, The trap with the

bait arouses the animal's passion and draws it to the trap. Certain

odors causes the male to think that a female has frequented the place,

and he gets careless and is caught. This is also true with females, and

is true with all species.

Animals like human beings like to appear well. They will instinctively

follow certain trails, go certain places at certain times; and the

trapper who learns what is appealing to an animal is sure of success.

The old trappers had to manufacture their own compounds.

They got their meager supply from the wombs, testicles and musk-bags of

animals. but they experienced great difficulty in mixing it to bait the

several kinds of animals. For a trapper today to try to extract his bait

from the animal would be sheer folly. only the unsuccessful ever resort

to such a process. Let every man who catches fur bearing animals for a

living learn among the earliest lessons, that he must resort to some

kind of bait; else he will fare slim. I have never known one identical

specialist in any phase of trapping who did not use baits, and the

fellow who comes to this imperative, soonest is safe.

I have many friends who deal in baits. And I know that they would like

to have me favor them by speaking about, and recommending their

commodity; but I am exhibiting for the education of the public, and not

for the benefit of dealers; hence I shall refrain from recommending

anything that has the least degree of sham about it. I am writing this

book to sell, and that on merits and information, so I feel it my duty

to fill it with facts, and useful information, So regardless of personal

friendships, without fear or favor I shall give the public the benefit.

I have used many kinds of baits, and on many occasions, but after years

of testing, and a dozen of different mixtures, I can recommend but one

Animal Bait--and that is Manufactured by Funsten Bros, and Co, In their

large Fur House at St. Louis Mo. It is also sold exclusively by them.

Not as a money maker but to aid their many trappers to succeed; because

their success depends upon the trapper.

This compound is the best mixed because Funsten Bros & Co, secured every

recipe from old and experienced trappers, paying a large price for each

kind. so it was not manufactured by them as they are not trappers but

dealers, To go well prepared is to be supplied with excellent baits, and

if you have Funsten Animal Baits you have the best.

I have charged you to go well supplied, I should also add that in order

to do this Traps should also be considered.--I have suffered severe

losses because I secured poor traps, Buy the New House Victor or Jump

Traps, advertised in Funsten Bros. & Co Catalogue No. 10 or 11. As these

men have the exclusive sale of them, it is enough to warrant their

quality. Funsten Bros. & Co at St. Louis Mo. Have the largest Fur House

in the world, and in order to be the largest they had to prove to be the

best. In all my dealing with them I have been courteously treated,

honestly classified, and promptly paid.

It is with pleasure I recommend this house which is an honor to Furriers

in America.

Well to return to my narrative,--this was the most excitable and

profitable winter we had ever known, we sold our furs after we broke

camp and took a very extensive vacation.

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