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Transcriber’s note:
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An additional transcriber’s note is at the end.
[Illustration: IN THE WINTER WOODS]
CAMPING IN THE WINTER WOODS
Adventures of Two Boys in the Maine Woods
by
ELMER RUSSELL GREGOR
Illustrated
[Illustration]
Harper & Brothers Publishers
New York and London
MCMXII
Copyright, 1912, by Harper & Brothers
Printed in the United States of America
Published October, 1912
K-M
* * * * *
THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY
DEDICATED TO MY NEPHEW
CHARLES RUSSELL GREGOR
A LAD WITH ALL THE “EAR-MARKS”
OF THE TRUE WOODSMAN
THE AUTHOR
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. INTO THE WILDERNESS 1
II. A WILD RIDE 20
III. BEES AND WILDCATS 35
IV. A DEER HUNT 63
V. A FOREST FIRE 75
VI. AN INTERESTING AFTERNOON 86
VII. A VISIT TO THE BEAVERS 98
VIII. A BULL MOOSE AND A NARROW ESCAPE 114
IX. FISHING THROUGH THE ICE 127
X. WINTER SETTLES DOWN 137
XI. AN ADVENTURE WITH A BEAR 150
XII. LOST! 166
XIII. ON THE TRAP LINE WITH BILL 188
XIV. A LYNX MAKES TROUBLE 205
XV. BILL CAPTURES A PRIZE 220
XVI. A VISITOR 232
XVII. CHRISTMAS AT THE CABIN 241
XVIII. AN ENCOUNTER WITH WILD DOGS 255
XIX. AN INDIAN CAVE AND ITS OCCUPANTS 270
XX. A FIGHT ON THE ICE 287
XXI. SPRING AND ITS SPORTS 300
XXII. TREED! 316
XXIII. OFF TO THE LUMBER CAMP 332
XXIV. A DARING RESCUE 353
XXV. CALLED HOME 371
ILLUSTRATIONS
IN THE WINTER WOODS _Frontispiece_
GEORGE LANDED FAIRLY ASTRIDE THE BACK OF THE
FRIGHTENED BUCK _Facing p._ 24
GROUSE DRUMMING ON A LOG “ 40
FIGHTING A FOREST FIRE “ 80
MAKING A PORTAGE “ 98
BEAVER HOUSES “ 108
THE WHITE MANTLE OF WINTER COVERED THE EARTH “ 138
THE BEAR STRUCK OUT WITH ONE HUGE PAW AND
SENT GEORGE OVER BACKWARD “ 158
CAUTIOUSLY THE TRAPPER ADVANCED “ 216
“WATCH OUT; HERE THEY COME!” “ 262
GATHERING THE MAPLE-SUGAR SAP “ 306
“RIDING” A LOG DOWN THE STREAM “ 354
* * * * *
CAMPING IN THE WINTER WOODS
* * * * *
CAMPING IN THE WINTER WOODS
I INTO THE WILDERNESS
As the train stopped before a small station built of logs, two boys
carrying guns and rods sprang from their seats and hurried out into the
fragrant, pine-laden air of northern Maine. They were Edward Williams
and his friend, George Rand. They waved their hands to the conductor as
he swung himself back upon the train, and then they turned to face a
vast forest which seemed to surround the tiny station on every side.
As they were too young to enter college until the following year,
the lads had been sent to spend the fall and winter in the Maine
woods. Their fathers, both outdoor enthusiasts, whose boyhood days
had been passed on a farm, believed that a taste of pioneer life
would strengthen the boys for their life-work. They would be thrown
largely upon their own resources, and their parents hoped that the
results would justify the experiment. It was to be a new venture in
education--a course for the building of clean, self-reliant manhood.
Ed and George were accordingly intrusted to the care and tutorage of
Ben Adams, a tried and trusted old woodsman, who had guided their
fathers for many years. Ben was told to teach them whatever he
considered it necessary for them to know. They had their text-books,
also, and a tutor was to keep in touch by letter. So at the end of
a two days’ journey we find the city boys standing curiously on the
threshold of a new world.
Suddenly a friendly voice called to them, and turning, they saw a
figure which seemed to belong to the forests.
“Well, boys, you got here all right, eh?”
They looked up to see a tall, gray-haired man dressed in corduroys
smiling down at them. His face was tanned and kindly, and his keen,
penetrating dark eyes looked at them approvingly; for he winked at the
young station agent, who had just greeted him, and nodded toward the
lads.
“Are you Mr. Adams?” asked Ed.
“Yes, I reckon that’s me; but I guess you’d better call me Ben. It
sounds more natural up here,” he laughed.
The boys smiled at each other, and then Ed offered his hand to the
guide, who smothered it in his own great brown one.
“I am Ed Williams; and this is my friend, George Rand,” he explained,
introducing his chum.
Adams then made them acquainted with the agent, and said they had come
to take a course at nature’s school in the woods.
“Well, now that we all know one another, I’ll get the team, and
we’ll load up and mosey away from here,” and, so saying, the guide
disappeared around the corner of the station.
The agent had departed to report the passing of the train which had
just gone.
“Well, what about it?” asked Ed of his friend.
“I think it is going to be great!” declared George, looking off into
the woods which they were soon to enter.
Ben drove up with the team and, assisted by the agent, began loading
the luggage into his wagon. When everything was finally tucked away, he
called the boys.
“You fellows had better telegraph some word to your folks to let them
know you arrived all right. When we get into the woods it may be some
time before you can send a letter out,” he advised.
“I almost forgot,” confessed Ed, guiltily, as he and George followed
the agent into the station to send a telegram to their parents.
When they returned, the guide was sitting on the wagon, reins in hand,
impatient to start for camp. The boys quickly climbed aboard and found
seats on top of the baggage. Ben spoke to the team of wiry little
mountain ponies, and with a sudden jerk the wagon started and rattled
down the road toward the wall of towering pines at the edge of the
forest.
Once in the woods, the road became rougher, and the ponies subsided to
a walk. “Hang on there, you fellows!” shouted the guide, each time the
wheels dropped into a rut or bumped over the top of a rock. The boys
found it great sport, and Ed declared it made him think of stories he
had read about Rocky Mountain roads.
A low-hanging hemlock limb swept the cap from George’s head, and Ben
stopped the team that he might go back and recover it. George jumped
down. He was about to pick up his cap when something went tearing
through the woods at the roadside with such a tremendous noise that he
half-started toward the wagon in alarm.
Ed grasped the guide by the arm and inquired breathlessly, “What’s
that?”
“Don’t get scared so easy,” laughed Ben. “That was only a partridge, or
ruffed grouse some call them. You’ll see and shoot lots of them; yes,
and eat them, too. Why, look at George, he’s pale yet,” he chuckled.
George had meanwhile recovered his cap and climbed thankfully back to
his seat. As they traveled along, Ben told about the bird that had
given them their first fright in the woods.
“He has lots of tricks to fool you with, but you fellows will learn
them all before you go back home,” he promised.
For some time they bumped along over the rough wood-road in silence,
the boys gazing with interest into the deep, somber woods which
stretched away for miles on both sides of them. Once George thought
he saw some large animal sneaking off between the trees. He pulled Ed
excitedly by the sleeve and endeavored to make him see it. They spoke
to Ben about it, but he only smiled and said he guessed it was nothing
much.
“You’ll see plenty of animals later on,” he told them; and they poked
each other in gleeful anticipation.
All at once the guide stopped the team and pointed down at a muddy spot
in the road.
“See anything?” he asked.
They looked carefully, and finally Ed said: “Why, yes, there are some
marks down there.”
“What kind of marks?” demanded Ben.
They had to confess they did not know; and then he told them they were
the footprints of deer. Instantly both boys were down from the wagon,
bending eagerly over those interesting tracks. Neither of them had ever
seen a wild deer, though they had heard their fathers tell many stories
of these graceful creatures, and how Ben tracked them through the woods.
“Don’t you notice any difference in them?” he asked.
“They all look very much alike, except that some are bigger than
others,” declared George, glancing over his shoulder as though he half
expected to see the animals themselves walk into view.
“Is that all you notice?” persisted Ben.
“That is all we can see,” replied Ed.
“Well, now let me tell you about them,” and the guide began to explain.
“You see, there are large tracks, medium-sized tracks, and small
ones. The large ones, you’ll observe, are rather blunt, and so I know
they were made by a buck. He blunts the tips of his toes by stamping
around. The medium-sized ones are quite sharp at the point, and were
undoubtedly made by a doe, and the small tracks beside them were made
by her fawn, a little deer born last spring.
“Then you’ll see, if you look sharp, that the big tracks cover the
medium-sized ones in several places, which shows that the buck came
along some time after the doe and her fawn had passed. Notice that the
little pools in the big tracks are still roiled, which means that the
buck has passed only a short time ago.
“Now, look here; see, his tracks are nearer together and run into one
another. He heard something which frightened him, possibly us, and
started to trot away. Here is where he turned from the road. See that
long mark in the bank? He left the road, jumped up that steep place,
and went galloping away through the woods. Yes, here are some broken
twigs where he went through.”
Ben smiled at the boys and led them to the wagon.
“Well, all aboard, we’ll go on now,” he said.
The lads looked at him in wonder. They did not understand how he could
read so much from the few marks in the mud, which, had he not called
them to their attention, they would never have noticed.
“Well, that’s your first lesson,” said Ben, as he started the team.
“You’ll have many more.”
“My, you know a lot!” declared Ed, enthusiastically. “Who told you all
that, Ben?”
“‘The Old Man of the Woods,’” he laughed, and the boys wondered who
that might be.
At the foot of a long hill they came to a bit of low, open country,
apparently a swamp, or marsh. The wagon bumped and bounced so that
the boys had all they could do to hang on. Looking down, they were
surprised to find that the road was made of logs laid side by side,
lengthwise, across it. They asked Ben for an explanation, and he said
it was what was called a “corduroy” road; so named because of its
similarity to the ridges in that cloth.
Then he explained that the ground beneath was soft and marshy, and
that without the logs the wagon would sink to the hubs. He said the
lumbermen built such roads that they could draw out their great loads
of logs which they cut far back in the forest. The boys became
interested at once and asked about these men and their work. The guide
finally promised that some time he would take them to a lumber camp,
where they could see these things for themselves.
Suddenly Ben stopped his story and stood up, pulling on the reins and
shouting orders to his team. Almost before Ed and George realized what
had happened, the wagon plunged down a steep bank and was bumping its
way through the racing waters of a fair-sized river. The ponies tugged
and splashed, the wagon rocked and creaked, and Ben yelled and plied
his whip. The river roared angrily, and great white-crested waves broke
over the side of the wagon-box.
Then came a jolt that almost tumbled the boys off into the water. They
clutched each other in panic as they saw one of the ponies fall to
its knees, and felt the wagon swung around by the powerful current.
The guide was plying his whip unmercifully, for they were tipping
dangerously over on one side. He finally got the pony on its feet
again, and his wagon straightened out and made the opposite bank in
safety; and the boys yelled with delight.
A little farther on, however, they came to real grief, for the forward
wheels sank over the hubs into a bog-hole, and in trying to drag them
out one of the ponies became mired in the black, oozy ground.
Shouting to the lads to throw off such parts of the load as they
could lift before the weight of it sent the wheels deeper, Ben jumped
down and quickly unhitched the other horse. Taking a stout rope from
beneath the wagon-seat, he made one end fast to the free pony and tied
the other end to the bemired animal. Urging and helping the straining
horse, he at length freed the imprisoned pony.
Then assisting the boys, who had been working with a will, the guide
unloaded the balance of the baggage. He told the lads to collect some
rocks and pile them near the sunken axle. Next he took his ax and
chopped down a small spruce-tree, from which he trimmed the branches.
Fastening the ponies together again, he led them forward the full
length of the rope until they stood on firm ground. Then he cut a
number of stout poles, which the boys carried and placed across the
road in front of the wheels, so that when once released they would not
sink again, but might travel over the improvised “corduroy” to solid
ground.
After much hard work everything was in readiness for an attempt at
moving the wagon. Ben ordered the boys forward to guide the team,
and cautioned them not to start the horses until he gave the word.
Then, using the ax for a shovel, he dug the earth away from before the
forward wheels. He placed the spruce pole between the pile of rocks and
one of the forward hubs, to serve as a lever or prop.
Ben gave the word to start and, as the boys urged the ponies forward,
threw his weight on the end of the pole. The wheels came up, lurched
forward upon the bridge of poles, and the wagon bumped its way safely
along to solid ground, where it was repacked.
Tired, but elated at the thought that they had been of actual use in
their first real difficulty, the boys resumed their places with much
satisfaction. They blushed with pride when Ben turned and complimented
them on their behavior.
Several times they flushed grouse, which rose with a great roar of
wings and thundered away between the tree-trunks. George declared they
looked like chickens. To which Ben added, “And taste better.”
Coming at length to an old camp-site by the side of a pretty little
woodland stream, the guide stopped his team and, turning, said: “It’s
some time past noon, boys, and we’ve got quite a spell to go yet
before dark. Guess your breakfast must have been shook down long ago.
Suppose we get off here, build a fire, and cook a bite to eat?”
They were quite ready; but what they were to eat, or how or where they
were to cook it, they did not know, for neither Ed nor George had ever
camped in the real wilderness before.
Ben soon solved the difficulty by taking from a box beneath the
wagon-seat tin-plates, knives, forks, cups, and spoons. Then from a
small deer-hide case he brought forth six eggs, some delicious-looking
brown biscuits, a piece of bacon, and a coffee-pot. Having deposited
all these things on the ground near a convenient log, he set the boys
at work gathering sticks with which to start a fire.
These sticks were skilfully arranged between two logs, and soon a
crackling blaze was frying the eggs and bacon in the pan, while farther
along between the logs the coffee-pot was giving forth a tempting aroma.
The lads sat cross-legged on the ground and ate their first woodland
meal with keen relish. When they had finished, and Ben had smoked a
pipe, he sent them to the stream for water, which was heated over the
bed of glowing embers. Then he gave George a dish-cloth and Ed a
coarse towel, and set them at work cleaning and drying the dishes. This
task finished, the horses were hitched to the wagon; and Ben and the
lads climbed aboard, and once more started along the trail.
Noisy jays chattered from the tops of the tallest pines; squirrels
scolded from beside the road; and high overhead a large hawk circled
about on motionless wings and screamed down at them. The boys asked Ben
all sorts of questions about the birds and animals they were likely to
see in the woods.
Late in the afternoon they branched off upon a new road that led
straight away into the deepest solitudes of the forest. Ben said
they were within a short distance of the cabin, and the boys peered
anxiously forward to obtain a glimpse of the place which was to be
their home for many months to come. This new route followed along the
shore of a beautiful woodland lake, and visions of fishing filled their
minds as they gazed out over its glistening blue waters.
Just as the sun was sinking behind a ridge of pine-clad mountains Ben
shouted, and, much to the surprise of his companions, an answer at once
came back. Looking ahead, as the guide pointed with his whip, the boys
saw the outlines of a log house. In a few moments more the wagon came
to a stop before the door, where stood a great bearded man in rough
hunting clothes, who greeted them heartily.
Ben introduced him as the owner of the team, and said that after
spending the night with them he would drive to his own cabin, some
fifteen or twenty miles distant, in the morning.
While Ben and his friend unhitched the horses, and busied themselves
with unloading the wagon, the boys wandered about examining the cozy
log cabin, which was the first one they had ever seen.
It was of generous proportions, and was built entirely of great peeled
logs, laid one on top of the other. The spaces between them had been
closed with pine slabs sealed over with mud. The roof was made of split
logs scooped out in the style of troughs and placed side by side, with
another slab over each two where they came together, scooped side down.
On top of them was piled earth and moss, which gave the appearance of a
sod roof. The house contained but one large room, in which was a door
and three good-sized windows. At the back of this room were four bunks,
two on either side, built one above the other. They were of large
dimensions, and would each accommodate two persons comfortably. These
bunks were filled with the tips of balsam boughs to a considerable
depth, and over this improvised mattress was spread, first, a piece of
heavy tarpaulin, and then, on top of this, several heavy blankets. In
the front part of the room was a small cook-stove, on which several
pots were simmering. Along one side of this combination living,
sleeping, and dining room was a home-made bookcase of unpeeled logs,
whose shelves held many old and entertaining volumes, mostly of
adventure. On the other side were racks and hooks for clothes and
accouterments. In one corner a pantry was built for dishes and cooking
accessories. Midway between the hard earth floor and the roof-peak,
poles were laid crosswise of the room, thus forming a sort of overhead
attic for the storing of additional baggage. A pine table covered
with red oil-cloth did service for reading, writing, and dining; and
home-made three-legged stools served as chairs.
Their inspection finished, the boys went outside and found the men at
work building an improvised corral of logs. The ponies were driven
into it and bedded down for the night with soft hemlock boughs. Then
they all turned into the cabin, for the autumn twilight had already
descended, and supper, thoughtfully prepared by the owner of the team,
was ready.
In the light furnished by a large lantern hung overhead in the center
of the room they sat about the red-topped table and partook of a
bountiful meal. There was deliciously browned fish fresh from the
near-by lake, hot, crumbly corn-bread, fried potatoes, great steaming
cups of tea, and canned peaches and home-made cookies for dessert. The
boys ate until they could scarcely move; and when they had finally
stopped because they were ashamed to eat any more, they rose and helped
Ben with the dishes.
The two woodsmen sat for some time smoking and telling experiences, and
Ed and George listened to every word. It was very dark outside, and
from time to time one or other of the boys cast glances out through the
open door and wondered what animals were prowling about in the great
black woods which surrounded the cabin on all sides.
Suddenly the stillness of the night was broken by a wild, piercing
scream from the forest. The men stopped talking and looked first at
each other and then at the boys, who sat with staring eyes and open
mouths gazing out into the darkness. Not a word was spoken while
they waited and listened for a repetition of the uncanny call. Then
an involuntary exclamation of alarm escaped the lads, for the cry was
repeated, this time nearer at hand; and they moved uneasily away from
the door.
The woodsmen smiled reassuringly, and then Ben allayed the fears of his
young guests.
“That’s a lynx out hunting for his supper. Don’t get uneasy about him;
you’ll hear and see him often between now and spring.”
“What sort of a creature is it?” inquired Ed, glancing toward the door.
“Why, he’s a kind of overgrown wildcat,” Ben explained, laughing. “He’s
savage enough if you corner him and make him fight; but otherwise he’ll
usually get out of your way.”
The call was not repeated; but it made a deep impression on the boys,
who, never having seen the animal that made it, conjured up all sorts
of dreadful creatures in their imaginations.
At last the guide knocked the ashes from his pipe, and after closing
and bolting the door, much to the satisfaction of the boys, declared
it time to go to bed. Ed and George decided to share a bunk between
them, and chose one of the upper ones. Bidding the men good night, they
climbed aloft, rolled themselves in the heavy blankets, and, sinking
deep in the fragrant bed of balsam, were soon sound asleep.
George was rudely awakened by something striking him forcibly on the
chest and scampering across his face. Rising bolt upright in his
fright, he grasped Ed by the hair. As he, too, sat up half asleep,
George inquired, breathlessly, “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” asked Ed, at once wide awake.
“Listen!” cautioned George, in a hoarse whisper.
They sat perfectly still, and, above the nervous thumpings of their
own hearts, heard strange scamperings, thuds, and scratchings on the
logs near the roof of the cabin. Then something soft and furry sailed
through space and struck Ed full in the face. This was more than they
could stand, and, uttering a wild yell, both of them tumbled out
of their bunk and scrambled hastily down to where the woodsmen lay
convulsed with laughter.
“What’s the matter with you fellows?” asked Ben, when they tugged at
his arm with trembling fingers.
“Say, Ben, there is some kind of wild animal up there!” stammered
George, endeavoring to keep his teeth from chattering.
“Yes, and it sprang right in my face!” added Ed, ducking his head when
he heard another sound above him in the darkness.
Ben laughed so heartily that the boys began to feel somewhat ashamed
for having told him anything about it. Then he explained it to them.
“Why, those are little flying squirrels, the prettiest little fellows
you ever saw. I’ll show them to you to-morrow. They couldn’t harm a
baby. However, you can take that lower bunk opposite us, and they won’t
bother you any more to-night.”
Neither of the boys was a coward, however; and, now that they knew what
had disturbed them, they climbed manfully back to their bunk and pulled
the blankets over their heads, determined to pay no more attention to
their strange bed-fellows.
“Say, Tom, those lads are all right,” said Ben, addressing the
blanketed figure beside him.
“Looks like they’d make good,” was the sleepy reply.
II A WILD RIDE
With the first gleam of daylight Ben was astir cooking breakfast.
Awakened by the noise, the boys dressed and jumped from the bunk to
join him.
“Listen to that,” he cried, as a weird, trembling laugh sounded from
the water. “That’s a loon; and if you fellows will sneak down to the
shore of the lake you’ll get a peep at him.”
The boys ran outside and made their way quietly down the trail toward
the lake, which they could see shimmering brightly between the
tree-trunks.
The call was repeated, and, reaching a group of white birches growing
at the edge of the water, they parted the branches and looked eagerly
out. A great white mist was curling up from the water, and for some
time they could see nothing more. Then George pointed excitedly out
toward the center of the lake, and, following the direction with
his eyes, Ed saw a large, dark bird with a white circle about its
neck swimming leisurely along. Every few minutes it uttered a wild,
tremulous laugh, and the lads endeavored to imitate it without success.
They watched the loon while it swam about and dove beneath the water,
until it finally disappeared from view.
Then they sat on a moss-grown log and looked across the great blue
expanse of water to the opposite wooded shore, which rose to form a
pine-topped mountain. They saw the sun rise over this mountain in
golden splendor, and shed its rays on lake and forest. A big fish
jumped into the air and returned to the water with a noisy splash. They
instantly nudged each other in delightful anticipation of the sport in
store for them with rod and reel.
“Oh, look, look!” cried George; and he pointed to a small brown animal
swimming along near the shore. Only its head and part of its neck
showed above the water, and its mouth was full of green leaves.
“It’s a rat!” declared Ed, seizing a stone and hurling it at the
unknown creature, which promptly dove beneath the water.
When it reappeared some distance away, George took several ineffectual
shots at it; but each time it dove before the stone reached it, and
finally drew out of range unharmed. Disgusted with their marksmanship,
the boys hastened to the cabin, where they found breakfast ready.
They asked Ben about the little brown animal they had seen, and he
told them it was a muskrat. He said he would some day show them its
wonderful houses, and told how it lived and traveled long distances
under the ice in winter.
Breakfast was soon over, and the dishes washed and put away. As the
owner of the team was anxious to get started on the long journey to his
cabin, Ben and the boys went outside to help him hitch up. The task
was quickly accomplished, and, wishing them many pleasant experiences
in the woods, he bade the boys good-by, spoke to the faithful team of
ponies, and was soon lost to view.
Returning to the cabin, the lads went to work willingly under the
direction of Ben, and unpacked and stowed away their many belongings.
The guide examined their rifles and shotguns, and pronounced them
satisfactory. The heavy boots and waterproof moccasins which they had
brought for winter wear also met his approval, and he promised they
would have much need of them later on.
When everything had been properly stowed away, he bade them bring their
shotguns, and led the way to the lake. Walking into some bushes near
by, he dragged forth a canvas canoe and launched it. Placing Ed in the
bow and George amidships, the guide took his place in the stern and
paddled swiftly up the lake.
He kept well in toward the shore, and explained that there was more to
be seen there than on the open water farther out. Not a sound was made,
so easily did the canoe skim along. Ben cautioned them that if they
used their eyes instead of their tongues they might see something worth
while. Consequently, they sat very quiet, watching for something to
happen.
All at once the bow of the canoe turned toward the middle of the lake,
and the little craft commenced to leap through the water in great
forward bounds.
“There he goes!” cried Ben. “Now for some fun.”
The boys looked out on the lake and saw the head and antlers of a deer,
which was swimming desperately to reach the other shore. He had already
spied them, and was doing his best to escape. Ben sent the canoe racing
along, and the excited lads saw that they were rapidly gaining. They
shouted aloud in the excitement of the chase, and then began to wonder
what might happen when they drew alongside.
“Shall we shoot him?” inquired George, eagerly.
“Don’t you dare!” thundered Ben, between paddle-strokes. “No one but
a ‘tenderfoot’ or a ‘pot-hunter’ would shoot a deer in the water. And
never try to kill a deer with anything but a rifle. We’ll just have
some fun with him and let him go.”
They felt rather disappointed at losing such a chance. They did not
quite know what a “tenderfoot” or a “pot-hunter” might be, but were
sure neither was a pattern for them.
Meanwhile they had approached to within a few yards of the buck. They
could hear his hoarse, quick breathing and see the big, brown eyes
turned toward them in fear as they drew close up beside him. The deer
was doing all in its power to evade capture. But Ben was an expert with
the paddle, and, twist and turn as it would, the frightened creature
found the pursuing canoe always beside it. The boys, thoroughly carried
away by the sport, reached forth to touch it on the neck. Instantly a
change came over the hunted animal. An angry light of battle shone
in its eyes, and even as Ben called a warning it half raised itself
from the water and struck a wicked blow at the frail canoe with its
sharp-pointed forefeet.
In jumping back from the sudden attack, the boys overturned the canoe
and were thrown out. Ed and Ben fell into the water, but George landed
squarely astride the back of the frightened buck. He had sufficient
presence of mind to grasp the antlers and hang on. And then began a
ride the like of which few if any boys have ever experienced!
[Illustration: GEORGE LANDED FAIRLY ASTRIDE THE BACK OF THE FRIGHTENED
BUCK]
The deer, feeling the weight of the lad on its back, threw itself
forward in a series of wild leaps half out of water. George gripped
the wet body with his knees and hung grimly to the rough horns. He had
no desire to fall off into the deep water through which the animal was
taking him in its mad flight to the opposite side of the lake.
Ben had meantime boosted Ed to the top of the overturned canoe, and was
swimming with it toward the shore they had just left. Both of them were
yelling encouragement to the alarmed boy racing through the water on
the back of the deer.
The buck, unable to rid himself of his unwelcome rider, began to twist
and turn his lithe body in an effort to throw him off. Then what the
guide had dreaded happened. The buck dove beneath the water and took
George with it!
Ed gave a startled cry when he saw his friend disappear from sight
beneath the surface, and poor Ben groaned audibly. In breathless
silence they watched for what seemed an eternity for the buck and its
rider to reappear.
When the deer plunged under the water George instinctively held his
breath and shut his eyes, as he was accustomed to do when ducked in the
school swimming-tank by mischievous school-mates. He went much deeper
this time, however, and the water went up his nostrils and roared in
his ears. He gripped the frenzied animal beneath him more tightly.
He could hear it gasping and choking down there under the water, and
it seemed as though he, too, must soon open his mouth and free his
bursting lungs. He could hold his breath but a moment longer. Then,
just as he gave an involuntary gasp for air, his head shot above the
water, and, coughing and snorting, the buck once more swam rapidly
toward the land.
Ed and Ben, who had reached shallow water, yelled with delight when
they saw their comrade reappear far out on the lake. George was too
full of water to reply to their shouts and cheers. It was all he could
do to keep his hold on that slippery wet back.
The buck seemed to realize that it could not lose its rider in deep
water, and it swam strongly and steadily for the shore, now but a short
distance away. From the heaving of its sides and its short, rasping
gasps, George knew it was fairly well spent. As for himself, he had
regained his wind and some of his confidence, and he determined to hold
on until he reached land.
At last the deer found footing and jumped forward into water to its
knees. Then it began a series of bounds and bucks which sent George
soaring through space to land on his back in a foot or more of water.
For a moment the buck stood looking at him, and he feared it was going
to charge. But, to his relief, it uttered a loud snort and dashed up
the bank and disappeared in the forest. Despite his wild ride, George
was unhurt; and, scrambling to his feet, he waded ashore and sat down.
Ed and the guide, having turned the water out of the canoe, paddled
across the lake to get him.
“Well, you certainly had a ride and a half,” laughed Ben, when they
were within speaking distance. “You’re not hurt any, are you?”
“No, indeed,” George assured them, rising. “Say, Ed, it’s your turn
next.”
But Ed’s answer was, “Not for mine!”
They entered the canoe, and Ben paddled quickly across the lake to the
other shore, where they alighted and ran to the cabin to change to dry
clothing.
While they were drying the dishes after dinner, Ben touched them
lightly on the arm, and, cautioning them to be still, pointed overhead
toward the cross-poles of the cabin. The boys heard the scratching
that had alarmed them the night previous. Watching closely, they saw a
pretty little animal peering inquisitively down at them with big black
eyes. It was white underneath and soft-brown above. Ben said it was a
flying squirrel. He promised, if they would watch at twilight, they
would see the dainty creatures go sailing through the air. Thoroughly
interested, the lads decided to look at the proper time.
“Ah-oonk, ah-oonk!”
The sound came from above, and Ben ran outside, followed by the boys.
Looking up to where he pointed, they saw a V-shaped flock of large
birds flying rapidly toward the lake. The guide said they were wild
geese, and that their coming foretold cold weather. The lads watched
them wheel and drop toward the water. Then they distinctly heard the
splash as the flock alighted.
Ed and George were for getting their guns and going after the birds at
once, but Ben told them to wait. He explained that when the geese first
settled on the lake they were wary and suspicious, but said that after
a while, if not molested, they would begin to feed, and might then be
approached more easily.
The boys grew very impatient as the afternoon wore on, and finally
sneaked away to the lake to have a look at the geese while Ben was
busy. They could hear the birds calling somewhere out on the water, and
when near the lake threw themselves flat on their stomachs and crawled
carefully along. They peered from behind a big boulder; and there, but
a short distance away, was the flock, feeding and splashing about in
fancied security.
“Great Scott! Why didn’t we bring our guns?” demanded Ed, in a
disgusted whisper.
“You go back and get them, and I’ll stay here and watch,” replied
George, crouching lower behind the rock as one of the great birds
raised itself on the water and flapped its wings. “We’ll get one for
supper and surprise Ben,” he added, chuckling at the thought.
Ed started eagerly away on his errand, but in his haste was inexcusably
clumsy, and fell head foremost over a prostrate log which happened
to lie in his path. He went down with a loud crash in the midst of a
tangled mass of broken branches and brittle sticks.
Instantly the geese jumped into the air with loud, frightened calls,
and flew swiftly along close to the water toward a point of the shore a
short distance away.
“You’re a peach!” cried George, in dismay, as he rose from behind the
rock and surveyed his friend, who was still floundering about in the
tangle of deadwood.
“Did they hear me?” inquired Ed, anxiously.
“Hear you! Why--”
Bang, bang!
The report of a gun sounded across the water from the direction of the
point toward which the geese had flown. Running to the water’s edge,
the boys saw the bodies of two dead geese floating on the surface some
distance out. Looking along the shore, they beheld Ben, gun in hand,
waving to them.
“Well, what do you think of that?” asked George.
“Beat us at our own game; but we’ll eat goose, anyhow,” laughed Ed,
slapping his friend on the back.
Ben was calling across to them, and they listened to catch his words.
“Hey, you fellows, watch those birds. I guess they’re dead, all right,
and I’ll come around and get the canoe.”
The boys sat down at the edge of the lake, and Ben disappeared into the
woods. When he joined them they entered the canoe and went out to where
the geese were drifting slowly away. Ben steadied the frail craft while
the boys lifted the heavy birds in over the side.
“Always pick them up by the head and give them a shake to get the water
off before you bring them in,” he cautioned.
Then he began to chuckle, for the lads were crestfallen and silent.
“That’s all right, boys; you see, I missed you and knew you had sneaked
away to have a peep at the geese. I went inside and saw you had left
your guns, which was right and proper, for I want you to remember never
to take them unless I’m with you or give you permission.”
The boys looked at each other, thankful that Ed had failed in his
mission, for they dreaded to think of the lecture that might have come
from Ben had they taken the guns without permission.
“Just as I said, I knew you had no chance of getting any of the birds;
and as I was sure they would sooner or later see or hear you, I decided
to steal down and knock over a couple. They’re mighty fine eating.” He
smiled mischievously.
They landed from the canoe, and each of the lads threw a goose over his
shoulder and carried it triumphantly to the cabin. They tied the birds
up outside, for Ben told them it was best to let them hang for a day
or two before roasting. He said the boys should do the plucking and
cleaning at the proper time, as he wished them to learn how to do such
things.
While the guide busied himself inside the cabin with the preparation
of the evening meal the boys sat outside talking over the interesting
happenings of the day. Suddenly Ed ducked his head as a little brown
animal sailed past and landed against the trunk of a tree.
“Flying squirrels!” cried George, pointing to the roof of the cabin,
where several of them were running about in play.
“Here comes another!” shouted Ed, as one sailed off into the woods from
the top of the cabin. “They don’t fly; they glide,” he declared, after
having watched several more go past.
Ben came out holding something in his hat. When he sat down beside
them, they saw that he had one of the squirrels. He said he had caught
it with his hands, using the felt hat to protect him from the sharp
teeth of the little creature, which would not hesitate to use them.
He held the squirrel in such a manner that the boys were enabled to
examine the loose folds of skin which extended down the inside of each
leg, almost to its toes. They noted that when the animal spread its
legs this skin formed a sort of parachute which enabled the squirrel to
sail from a higher to a lower position.
When they had studied the odd little rodent thoroughly, Ben released
it, expecting it would run up the side of a near-by tree. Instead,
thoroughly frightened, it turned and ran up the nearest object, which
happened to be Ben’s left trouser-leg.
The boys rolled over the ground in spasms of laughter, while the
guide hopped about endeavoring to shake the squirrel down. After great
exertion he finally succeeded, and the panic-stricken little creature
ran up the trunk of a convenient pine and hid itself among the branches.
After supper Ben entertained the boys by telling several hunting
stories. When he had finished the last one, he declared it bed-time;
knocking the ashes from his pipe, he rose and went outside to consult
the sky for weather predictions.
“Going to be a fine day to-morrow. Guess we’ll line bees and get some
honey for the winter,” he said, when he came in.
“How do you do that?” asked the lads.
“I’ll show you in the morning. It’s time to turn in, now.” And he
motioned them to the bunk.
“What did he say about bees?” whispered Ed, when he and George were
beneath the blankets.
“I don’t know, but I’ll bet it’s going to be sport,” George replied,
sleepily.
III BEES AND WILDCATS
The boys were awake early, and, quickly dressing themselves, they
rushed outside to await the appearance of the sun. Ben had told them
that the day must be warm and cloudless, for then the bees would work
well. Having waited until the sun was some little distance above the
horizon, and all danger of a cold or rainy day was past, the hungry
lads entered the cabin and ate the meal which the guide had prepared.
As the morning wore on and developed into all the glories of a perfect
“Indian summer” day, even Ben became enthusiastic, and declared it just
right for the lining of bees.
“Where must we go to find the bees?” asked George.
Before replying Ben took a small bottle from the pantry-shelf.
Uncorking it, he began sniffing at the contents. He also brought forth
a fruit-jar filled with strained honey, a tablespoonful of which he
diluted with warm water and poured into a saucer. Then he found a
good-sized piece of old honeycomb. Gathering these things together, he
was ready to start.
“We’ll just go down to that little clearing by the lake, where we can
see them work,” he said, as Ed and George followed him from the cabin.
In this little woodland meadow some goldenrod had grown and bloomed,
and about the blossoms several bees were buzzing industriously when Ben
and the boys arrived. The guide seemed much pleased at finding them
there, and said he would soon get a line when he had things ready.
He explained that a line was the direction of the bee-tree which held
the honey. He said that this was found by watching the bees, who, when
they had loaded up with the sweets set out for them, would rise in the
air and, after circling about the locality once or twice, would start
off in a straight line for the distant tree. Ben cautioned the boys to
watch the line of flight as far as they could see it. Then, when they
were sure of its general direction, he would move on to where it had
faded from their vision, and again set out his bait. They must repeat
this operation until they found themselves near the tree. Then they
would begin a search for it.
He said he was glad to find the bees at work on the goldenrod. It would
save him the necessity of building a fire and rubbing the honeycomb on
a hot stone, so that the scent would draw the bees.
Ben uncorked a bottle which contained anise-seed oil. He broke off
several blossoming stems of the goldenrod and poured a few drops of the
liquid on each. Then he placed them on or near the saucer containing
the strained honey, and, bidding the boys be seated, sat down to await
developments.
“There’s one now!” cried Ed, as a bee alighted on the edge of the
saucer and began to load up with the honey.
Ben nodded his head and smiled.
“There’ll be hundreds here in an hour,” he promised.
“Can they smell it so far away?” asked George.
“No; but these will come back and bring more. You’ll see, before long.
Look out! Watch him, over your head there! See him circle? There he
goes! Now watch him as far as you can,” cautioned the guide, as the
first bee started away for the unknown tree.
“I’ve lost him!” wailed Ed.
“I see him--no, he’s gone!” cried George.
“Never mind, there’ll be many more,” Ben told them. “Watch that fellow
on the rim of the saucer; he’s going in a second. There he goes! See
him circle? Watch now, watch close, he’s circling again--there he
goes--same way,” he declared, shading his eyes with his hands.
For some minutes no more bees appeared, and the boys began to fear that
something was wrong. Then three at once alighted on the saucer, and Ben
said the tree was not far away. While they were watching them two more
came; then others, by ones and twos, until there were fifteen or twenty
at the feast. The watchers were kept busy turning and twisting their
heads to follow the swift flight of the little workers as each started
away with its hoard of sweets. More bees came every moment, until they
were arriving and leaving in a steady stream.
Ben had meanwhile discovered what he called a cross-line. Bees from
another colony in a different tree had found the tempting feast. They
were coming and leaving in a different direction from that taken by the
first lot. He decided to follow up the original line, for he believed
their tree to be the nearer. He said they would leave this second
lot until another day, although he hoped to get all the honey they
required from the colony they were tracing.
At length he declared it time to move along the line. Choosing a dead
hemlock some distance away, on the side of a hardwood ridge, as the
spot where the bees faded from sight on their flight, the guide led the
boys through the woods in its direction.
After a hard scramble up the hillside they reached the hemlock and
sat down to await the bees. They had not been there long before the
industrious little toilers covered the saucer, pushing and crowding one
another in their efforts to get their share of the honey it contained.
They flew away in the same direction as before, and Ben knew he was on
the line. Basing his prophecy on the increased number of bees, he said
that with the next moving they should be within reach of the tree.
Once more they traveled on, this time over the ridge and down the other
side into a heavily timbered ravine. Here the guide thought they would
find the honey-tree. Indeed, no sooner were they seated than bees by
the hundreds flocked to the bait. These left without circling, and Ben
said it was a sure sign the tree was near.
The bee-hunters rose and began a close inspection of each tree-trunk in
the vicinity, looking carefully up and down its length for some opening
or cavity which might proclaim the entrance to a hive within. Ben told
the boys to travel along in sight of him, one on either side, and
urged them to inspect each tree thoroughly. He reminded them that bees
sometimes went in an opening at the very bottom, and at other times
near the tiptop.
Finally George, who was at the right of the line, came to a great
weather-beaten pine with a large cavity in its trunk near the base. He
felt sure this was the tree that contained the honey. Stooping down, he
foolishly put his face to the opening in an effort to obtain a view of
the inside. Luckily there were no bees there, but something else flew
out and struck him full in the face. And then, as he fell over on his
back from the suddenness of the attack, a perfect army of bats came
chattering from the tree. Thrusting his hands before his face, George
ran from the spot.
Just then Ed called out that he had found the tree. Hurrying to the
place where he and Ben stood gazing at a hole near the top of a giant
oak, George saw a steady swarm of bees entering and leaving the
cavity.
“Guess we’ll have to cut that to-night,” said Ben. “There ought to be a
pile of honey in there, boys. But you can’t always tell; sometimes the
biggest trees hold the least honey.”
There was an angry buzzing about their heads, and they ducked and ran.
“We’ll mosey along out of here and go home and make some torches. Then
we’ll come back after dark and go to work,” Ben promised.
George told of finding the bats, and his companions laughed heartily.
“They roost in a hollow tree like that by the thousands sometimes,”
said the guide. “I’ve done the same thing you did, often. Why, I’ve had
them strike me in the face so hard that my eye swelled up.”
“What’s that?” demanded Ed, stopping to listen.
“That? That’s our friend the grouse again, only this time he’s
drumming,” replied Ben.
“Drumming!” exclaimed the boys, in unison.
[Illustration: GROUSE DRUMMING ON A LOG]
“Yes, that’s what we call it. He wins his mate that way in the spring.
Sometimes on a nice day, like this, in the fall, he comes to a warm,
sunny spot in the woods and starts drumming, just like it was spring
again.”
“How does he do it?” inquired George, as the hollow, booming roll came
from the deep, silent woods.
“Why, he stands on a log, or rock, and beats the air with his wings.”
Ben knelt down and imitated the sound by pounding the ground with his
closed fist.
“When a grouse is drumming like that, you can walk right up to him. All
you need do is to get his direction, and then hurry toward him while
he’s busy drumming. As soon as he stops, or a little sooner, you must
remain perfectly still. Then, when he drums again, move on, until you
come in sight of him.”
The boys made a note of this, and determined to try the experiment at
the first chance.