CHISELLING AND SHOOTING BEAVER.
It is only in the far back country that the once plentiful beaver are
to be found at the present day, and though a description of one of
the modes the Indians adopt in killing them may be of no practical
use to the present generation of hunters on the fringe of
civilization, it will at least be interesting to them and remembered
by some old-timers. Chiselling, or trenching, beaver, as it is
sometimes called, is yet followed by the interior Indians, and when
conditions are favorable, is a most expeditious way of piling up a
whole lodge.
The writer in his young days has many a time accompanied the Indians
on these hunts, and the description of my last participation in this
exciting mode of hunting I will endeavor to explain to the reader. I
found a large lodge of beaver in a very small lake, probably a
quarter of a mile long by one-eighth wide. It was so late in the fall
that it was too near freezing to set traps in open water, and the
appearance of the shore conveyed to my experienced eye that it could
be chiselled to advantage. I therefore returned to the post and left
the beaver undisturbed.
It was fortunate I did so, for the following night all the small
ponds and lakes in the vicinity were ice-bound only to open again in
six months. A few days after an Indian visited the post for an
additional supply of ammunition and snaring twine, and I took the
opportunity to enlist his services to kill my beaver. I offered him
two pounds of tea for a day's work at the lake. Whether he killed the
beaver or not, he was sure of the tea. This he agreed to, and I
immediately put together the necessary things so as to make an early
start.
As the lake was only an hour's walk from the post we reached it about
sunrise, and both knowing our business, set to work at once. The
implements necessary for each man are a belt axe, an ordinary socket
mortise chisel one and a quarter inch broad. This is handled
(generally at the lake) with a peeled spruce sapling from six to
seven feet long, and last but by no means least, is a good beaver
dog, and almost any Indian dog is good for beaver, as they learn from
the older ones and train themselves. I had two at the post and these,
of course, accompanied us. The first thing to do is to visit the
discharge of the lake. If this is dammed a trap must be set at the
opening where the water escapes. This is the first precaution, so
that if any beaver during the trenching process tries to escape down
the creek he must pass over the trap and get caught.
Where the water of the lake and that of the creek is of the same
level there is consequently no dam, and then the creek, at its
narrowest part, has to be picketed from side to side. This is often a
laborious job, as pickets have to be cut and carried to the creek, a
cut three or four inches wide made in the ice and then the pickets
driven down side by side, or very close to each other, so the beaver
cannot possibly pass.
This work done to our satisfaction, our next point was the lodge
itself. This we broke in from the top and all the sticks, mud, etc.,
we jammed down in the opening or exit. This is done to prevent the
beaver returning once they have left the lodge. At several places
around the lake the beavers have what the Indian call "washes." These
are burrows they make beneath the surface, generally up under the
roots of a large tree. They use them for breathing places and to
retire to if disturbed at the lodge. They make these at any favorable
spot where the conditions are suitable, and the "washes" vary in
number from three to five up to twice that number.
The dog's share of the work is to travel around the lake and scent
the beaver under the frozen bank. He is trained not to give tongue,
he merely points and sets his head on one side, then the other. Both
our dogs are now pointing and we hastened over to the spot. A hole is
chisselled in the ice close to shore and a crooked stick inserted.
This stick is cut at the commencement of the hunt, is about seven
feet long, and has a natural curve, almost as much as a half moon.
The end of the stick is moved about, it slips up under the bank; this
is the entrance to the "wash." We cut the hole in the ice larger and
then watch the water. If the beavers (or even one) are up in the bank
there is a perceptible rise and fall of the water at the opening. We
then set to work to fence in the entrance to the "wash" with sticks.
This done, the ice is cut away inside the stakes, a couple of feet
square.
All is now ready for the test. The Indian bares his arm up to the arm
pit. He gets down on his knees over the hole and watches, while I go
up a few feet from the bank and drive the chisel into the ground.
This disturbs the beaver and he makes a mad drive to get out to the
lake. The pickets bring him up, and while he is turning about,
puzzled and bewildered, the Indian dashes his arm into the water and
seizing the beaver by the hind leg gives one strong pull and lands
him over his head. The fall on the ice stuns him momentarily, and
before he can escape the Indian has dealt him a blow with the head of
his axe. The young ones are generally the first killed, as two or
three may be together in one "wash." The old ones, as a rule, give
much trouble, as they vacate one "wash" for another at the approach
of the hunter. Then there is nothing for it but to picket off each
"wash" as found, and thus reduce the number of places for him to
resort to.
A hunter with a practiced eye can tell pretty well by the appearance
of the shores about a beaver lake if the "washes" are few in number
or numerous and guides himself accordingly. If the lake has drained a
foot or two since the ice took, it is useless to attempt to chisel,
as the beaver can go ashore under the ice anywhere and breathe. In
our case all circumstances were favorable; the water was full under
the ice, all over, and the "washes" were very few and easily located.
By three o'clock in the afternoon we had the beavers all killed, two
old and four young ones. We really had five by dinner time, so we lit
a fire, boiled our kettle and let the last old one quiet down a bit
while we ate our lunch. We got him at last in the last "wash," and I
suppose knowing this was his last stand he would not attempt to leave
the back part of the hole no matter how much I poked the chisel in
about him. So while the Indian kept a close and alert watch at the
mouth of the "wash," I made a large opening at the back and slipped
in one of the dogs. In a moment beaver and dog were both out at the
entrance fighting in the water. The beaver fastened his terrible
teeth in the dog's lip. The Indian and I each managed to grasp a hind
leg, a long pull and out came beaver and dog together. We had to
force his teeth apart after killing him before the dog was free.
* * *
I mentioned in a previous article that I would at some future time
tell of the part a beaver-dam enacts in the successful shooting of
the beaver.
As I said, the beaver has to keep a jealous watch on the dam to
preserve the proper height of the water at their lodge. They make
nightly visits to see all is well, just as a faithful watchman goes
his rounds of the factory over which he has charge.
Any sudden falling of water brings the beaver down post haste to the
dam to repair the damage or leak. Often an otter is the cause of the
trouble, as they sometimes bore a passage way under the discharge,
thereby letting out a large quantity of water in a very short while.
The Indians, knowing this careful watchfulness of the beaver, use it
to his destruction by purposely breaking a portion of the dam and
hiding, await the coming of the little builders, shooting them at
close range.
I cannot do better than to describe one of these shootings, in which
I took part.
One of the principal things to observe is that the wind should be in
the proper direction, i. e., from the lodge toward the dam. A day
coming when the condition of the wind was favorable, we set off with
our double-barrel guns, a tea kettle and some grub, and reached the
discharge about 3 P. M.
The little pond was brimming full with the proper quantity of water,
flowing out of the cut to insure a regular equality. The Indian
studied all this, looked at the sun, and decided it was yet too early
to cut the dam, and in the meantime we fixed a nice brush cache at
different angles to the dam, wherein we were to sit and watch. About
four o'clock the Indian hacked away at the discharge with a small
pointed stick, prying several holes under and about it, and in a
short time the creek below the dam became a highly turbulent stream,
and then we retired to our bedded places and waited.
I might mention that the time of the year was about the tenth of
October, a time when beaver are quite prime, in that north country.
We had to wait possibly an hour before the first beaver made his
appearance. It was one of the parents, and judging by the speed at
which he came down the pond, he must have been of turbine
construction. One thing sure he was on a rush message, and wanted to
get there quick. I saw the Indian's gun barrel move slightly, and
when the beaver got within close distance he pulled on him, and in a
few minutes the beaver lay awash close to the dam, where he was
allowed to remain.
The next one that came in sight was a young one, and came my way. He
met the same fate. The slight current dragged him also close to the
dam, a few feet from his father or mother, as the case might be.
This double bagging was hardly over when another big one came around
a point heading for the dam as the others had done. This fellow
proved to be my meat also, and again a pause in the shooting.
The shadows of the evening were fast falling and we had almost given
up hopes of seeing any others, when again we saw a far-off ripple of
some animal swimming, and it proved to be another young one. This one
took down the shore nearest to the Indian, and beat the water at his
gun's shot.
The sport was becoming quite exciting, and I would have had no
objection to continuing it longer, but the Indian arose and called
across to me to gather up our beaver, having a large and a small one
each, a very fair division.
He then set to work to repair the damaged dam as well as he could,
and explained to me that the remaining ones would finish off the job
when the fear was off of them.
The Indian said that amongst his tribe the hunters often used this
mode of hunting, and what beaver was left unkilled they either
trapped later on or trenched them out when the ice set fast. One
thing I learned from that afternoon's hunt was that it was simple and
successful, and I used the knowledge several times, in other years,
to my advantage.
We had to pack those beaver through four miles of trackless bush, and
each pack must have weighed ninety pound, and, as far as I remember,
we rested only three times. I mention this because I saw in one of
the letters that appeared in H-T-T, where a man mentions having
killed a beaver that weighed fifty pounds, which was so heavy he had
to drag it home.
I have heard of dragging a deer or hair seal, but never of a
fur-bearing animal. I wonder what that man would have thought to see
an Indian of a hundred and thirty-six pounds weight carry four beaver
and his bark canoe on top, over a three-quarter mile portage without
resting, and he did not even appear winded at the end. The beaver
weighed in the neighborhood of one hundred and eighty pounds, and the
bark canoe an easy sixty, but then they are inured to carrying heavy
loads from childhood.