After we arrived from South America we planned on trapping one winter
for Bob-cat Civit Cat and Mountain Lion. Providing no catastrophes
happened bigger than a cat. We trapped the Arkansa, Big Sandy, Bayou
creek and on to poverty flats. Then we crossed over to the Black Hills
landing at Buffalo Gap.
Here a Ranchman hired us to kill Black bear which were killing his
colts. The Black bear of North America is the most harmless of all
bears. His average weight is about four hundred pounds. He lives on
honey, grass, berries, weeds, roots, ants, and insects of all kinds. He
is the hardest specie to hunt. When a hunter is on his trail he
invariably is next to it, and will climb upon all the high roots, and
logs and peep back on his track to discern the hunter. It is hard to get
a shot at him unless the wind is blowing so you may circle him and shoot
from the windward side. He will stuff a bullet hole with moss to prevent
the flow of blood and many other cute sagacious tricks. He dens up about
the 15teenth of Dec. and comes out about the middle of March, as is
usually supposed he comes out poor. But this is a bit of
missinformation. On the other hand he usually crawls out after his long
snooze fat as mud.
Well as usual we had a lot of work, accompanied with our usual success.
we were well paid for our hunt, and moved up to the Musselshell river In
Montana.
In Montana we caught fine beaver, The beaver is a very instinctive
animal. There are several varieties, The Dam Builder, The Bank Beaver,
The Bachelor Beaver and the Drone Beaver. The beaver ranges in color
from white to black. I never saw a white one, and but one black one
except when I looked in the glass. The Beaver weighs from twenty to
thirty pounds in the United States, and from forty to fifty in Alaska.
His food is bark, young grass and such foods, They cut timber down and
know where it will fall. I ascertained this because I have known them to
leave trees alone which leaned the wrong direction for them to use. I
saw on the North Platte trees cut down by beaver which were four feet in
diameter. They make chips resembling a chopper with a dull ax. He cuts
his timber for winter and anchors it down four feet under water with mud
useing his tail as a scow and also for a spade.
Beaver dams are great hindrances to the man with a conoe, Beaver meadows
are splendid feeding grounds for deer and other animals. I have seen
beaver meadows--that is a place where the trees were all cut down and
used--covering hundreds of acres.
After breaking Camp we went to Cordelane Idaho, and from here to Frisco
then over to Austrailia, We sailed out from the Golden gate on the 5th
day of June and on the 20th day we reached Bellmont Aus. From here we
went by rail up the Darling river. We spent about fourteen or fifteen
days prospecting for a catch but found nothing inticing but hot winds
and hot sunshine, so we cut our visit short and returned to 'Frisco the
latter part of July--
We next went to Idaho and raked up our old gang with new accessories and
began trapping on the Clearwater and camped just below the Continental
Divide. We trapped to the St. Joe Divide and as far south as Bald
Mountains. The snow fall in this part is very heavy, we were making a
Deadfall one day when Billy Thorn made a miss cue with his heavy sharp
ax and severed his shin bone and nearly looped off his leg. The ax
struck about four inches below the knee, and nearly cut his leg
completely off. We were thirteen miles from headquarters camp. We made a
litter and carried him all the way. He nearly bled to death on the way.
There was no Dr. with in sixty miles. I thought it was up to me their
old Chief to perform an operation. I washed the wound out as clean as
posible, cutting away all shreads of flesh with my beaver knife, I hewed
out some sweet birch splinters and tied the limb tight with moose wood
bark from his ankle to his thigh. In three months he was able to walk
and after six months he was trapping as usual. While Thorn was layed up
I had a double dose of work to do and grew a little careless, so mush so
that something happened which never happened before--I was cleaning my
gun and rooled it over on my knee. I had forgotten to remove the loads
and off she went tearing a big hole in our camp. I had had a great deal
of trouble in my life teaching my men to always be careful about
accidents. This same thing had happened severl times to the other
fellows but never to me before. Most all old trappers and hunters get
into trouble of their own, sooner or later because of carelessness. I
never cover up a trap with my hand. I found a trapper starved to death,
caught in his own bear trap by both hands; because he was in the habit
of covering up his traps by hand. I always school the lads to cover
every trap with a stick. It is better because the animal can smell hand
marks readily.
After the accident of my gun explosion in camp I went out to look at A
trap I had set for a wolverine. I came to the spot and found the chain
broken and the trap gone, I began brushing away the snow supposing he
had dodged into a hole near by, the trap was set at the root of a tree
Suddenly I heard a growl and down from the limb leaped the darn skunk
upon my left shoulder while the trap struck me fair in the face, I did
some tall scrambling shook him off and empied my revolver in his skin.
My shoulder was very sore for three months so we had two cripples at
once. The next streak of ill luck, another of the gang got lazy and
would not wash well in cold water and contracted cold and then
Pneumonia--this layed him off for nearly three weeks. Our catch this
winter was Wolverine, Lynx, Marten, Ermine, a few Beaver and Otter. but
my Marten were of all more valuable.
I was engaged the next summer in Colorado by a ranchman to trap Mountain
Lion. The Mountain Lion is a specie of the Eastern Panther they weigh
from 80 to 150 lbs. Their color in winter is a steel grey and in summer
is a greyish brown. Their food is rabbit and grouse. Their haunts are
the Rocky mountains. Their hides are used for rugs and robes and worth
from 5-to 15 dollars. They also feed on calves and colts. are very hard
on a Horse Ranch-Man. They often attack men, I have known three men to
have been killed by Mountain Lions. The Mountain Lion is very shy he can
be poisoned the best of any way of taking his life. to trap a Lion you
must set all bait traps and deadfalls horse back and be sure your horse
has no shoes nor horse nails in their hoofs, if they have the Lion will
steer clear of the trap they are very clever in every way. One time I
was delayed from Camp it grew dark and I had an awful time to pick my
way home I soon discovered that I had more than the dark and difficult
roads to battle, For I was being followed by a Lioness five whelps and
an old Dog Lion. I was on my Favorite Horse Old Gotch. He feared Lions
equally as great as I hated Squaws, They followed me for about three
miles and when I reached an open space in the woods I halted near an old
fir stub, I dismounted cautiously I could hear the old Dog growl and the
whelps squeal like a flock of young pups. I found some dry leaves and
struck a fire breaking off the limbs of the old stub for fuel, After an
hour these limbs were all burned up and I had to go about thirty feet to
another stub for wood. I had to be pretty foxy for both lioness and Dog
kept uncomfortably close to me all the time I carried my six shooter in
one hand, and wood on the other arm; just as I was returning with a load
of wood the moon broke through a cloud and the old Dog was standing
about forty five feet away in a bunch of weeds. I pulled my gun and took
a chance shot and as luck would have it I broke his for shoulders and he
could leap around but not direct his course. I never heard such a
tearing racket; he would leap ten feet high and fall on his head when he
struck ground, by this I knew I had fixed his front limbs. At this the
Lioness and whelps retreated and after an hour I mounted Gotch and rode
up near the tired and crippled Dog and sent a ball through his heart. I
returned to the fire and had a little sleep before day-break. I skined
the old fellow next morning he was a monster old, rugged, brawny &
covered with (23) wounds. he had also been shot three times before.
After we broke camp we went to Mexico and rode a Horse Ranch. following
this for several months we worked our way northward taking carefull
notation of the changes in Saddles, Horses and riders. I have ridden
many wild horses and used many kinds of saddles but the king of all
saddles is the Meany. We could tie on to a steer that wieghed a ton and
not be afriad of tearing this saddle to pieces.
We loved wild horse riding but we got so beastly full of lice that we
quit. We have caught lice several times from the tourists, and
tenderfeet but could always get rid of them other places by the cowboy
method--At night take off your shirt turn it inside out spread it over
an ant-hill, and in the morning the ants have all you company preserved
for the coming winter.
The cowboys are a clean lot of brave loyal lads. They carry guns--but
not as is supposed to use on one-another--but to shoot wild horses which
they are riding--suppose your foot gets fastened in a stirrup and your
are thrown, you will not go far till you are dragged to death. this is
where the Gun does its intended work.
I have had to take my hat and strike the top of the water to drive the
bugs down so I could drink without swallowing bugs, I used to cook and
thought nothing of taking my water from a slough where several carcasses
of cows wrere putrying. Sometimes I ran short of Soda then I would use
the ashes of Buffalo chips for Soda. All this is as harmless to health;
as eating asparagrass grown in a manure pile.
Well life grew monotnous, each succeeding year brought but old time
haunts and the accostomed experiences. So as we sat at midnight in
Portland Oregon in a grand ball room indulging in our only bad
habit--smoking, simultaneously The Coyote Kidd and Myself proposed--to
the gang let us go up to Alaska" To this we all shook hands.