OUT ON THE TRAP LINE
Connie Morgan was anxious to be off on the trap line early in the
morning following the adventure with the bear. But 'Merican Joe shook
his head and pointed to the carcass of the bear that for want of a
better place had been deposited upon the floor of the cabin. "First we
got to build de _cache_. We ain' got no room in de cabin--an' besides,
she too warm for keep de meat good. De dog, an' de wolf, an' de _loup
cervier_, an' de _carcajo_, w'at you call 'Injun devil,' dey all hongre
an' hunt de meat. We got to build de _cache_ high up."
The first thing, of course, was to locate the site. This was quickly
done by selecting four spruce trees about three inches in diameter and
ten feet apart, and so situated as to form the corner posts of a rude
square. Taking his ax, the Indian ascended one of these trees, lopping
off the limbs as he went, but leaving the stubs for foot and hand
holds. About twelve feet from the ground he cut off the trunk just above
the place where a good stout limb stub formed a convenient crotch. The
other three trees were similarly treated. Four strong poles were cut and
placed from one crotch to another to form the frame of the _cache_.
These poles were cut long enough to extend about four feet beyond the
corner posts. Upon this frame-work lighter poles were laid side by side
to form the platform of the _cache_--a platform that protruded beyond
the corner posts so far that no animal which might succeed in climbing
one of the posts could possibly manage to scramble over the edge. The
corner posts were trimmed smooth, and a rude ladder, which consisted
simply of a young spruce with the limb stubs left on for the rungs was
made. The last step in the completion of the _cache_ was to cut down all
trees whose limbs over-hung in such manner that a _carcajo_ could crawl
out and drop down upon the platform, and also those trees whose
proximity might tempt a lynx to try a flying leap to the _cache_.
When the carcass of the bear had been quartered and deposited upon the
platform, the brush and limbs cleared away, and the ladder removed, the
two trappers gazed in satisfaction at their handiwork. The stout
_cache_, capable of protecting several tons of meat from the inroads of
the forest prowlers, had been constructed without the use of a single
nail, or bit of rope, or thong, and with no tool except an ax!
It was noon when the task was completed, and after a hasty lunch of tea,
bear's liver, and bannock, 'Merican Joe selected fifteen small steel
traps which he placed in his pack sack. He also carried a light belt ax,
while Connie shouldered the larger ax and reached for the 30-40 rifle.
'Merican Joe shook his head.
"Dat ain' no good to tak' de big gun. Tak' de leetle wan an' mebbe-so
you git som' mor' bait."
"Yes, and what if we run on to another one of your little black bears
that don't like to fight? And what if we should see a caribou? And
suppose we found a lynx in one of those snares?"
"We ain' goin' hunt no caribou. We goin' set marten traps, an' if we
com' on de bear den we wait an' com' back som' odder time."
"But suppose there is a lynx in one of those snares?" persisted the boy.
"Let um be in de snare. We ain' goin' to de swamp. Dat ain' no good to
go 'long de trap line too mooch. Let um be for week--mebbe-so ten day.
We go runnin' t'rough de woods every day same place, we scare everyt'ing
off. Anyhow, we ain' need de big gun for de _loup cervier_. De leetle
gun better, he don' mak' so big hole in de skin. An' if de _loup
cervier_ is in de snare, we ain' need no gun at all. She choke dead."
A half mile from camp, 'Merican Joe set his first trap. The place
selected for the set was the trunk of a large spruce that had been
uprooted by the wind, and leaned against another tree at an angle of
forty-five degrees. Two blows of the light belt ax made a notch into
which the small steel trap fitted perfectly. The bait was placed upon
the tree trunk just above the trap and a small barrier of bark was
constructed close below the trap in such a manner that the marten in
clambering over the barrier must almost to a certainty plant at least
one fore foot upon the pan of the trap. The trap chain was secured to
the tree so that when the marten was caught he would leap from the trunk
and hang suspended in the air, which would give him no chance to free
himself by gnawing his leg off above the jaws of the trap. This leaning
tree set was 'Merican Joe's favourite with the steel traps.
A particularly ingenious set was made upon the trunk of a standing tree
whose bark showed tiny scars and scratches that indicated to the
practised eyes of the Indian that it was frequently ascended by martens.
In this case two short sticks were sharpened and driven into the tree
trunk to form a tiny platform for the trap. Some slabs were then cut
from a nearby dead spruce and these also were sharpened and driven into
the trunk on either side of the trap. Then a piece of bark was laid over
the top for a roof, and the bait placed in the back of the little house
thus formed. The marten must enter from the bottom and in order to reach
the bait, the only possible spot for him to place his feet would be upon
the pan of the trap.
Several sets were also made on the ground in places where the sign
showed right. These ground sets were made generally at the base of a
tree or a stump and consisted of little houses made of bark, with the
bait in the back and the trap placed between the door and the bait. In
the case of these sets, instead of securing the chain to the tree or
stump, it was made fast to a clog, care being taken to fasten the chain
to the middle of the stick.
Three or four sets were made for mink, also. These sets were very
simple, and yet the Indian made them with elaborate care. They consisted
in placing the trap just within the mouth of a hole that showed evidence
of occupation, after first scooping out a depression in the snow. The
trap was placed in the bottom of the depression and carefully covered
with light, dry leaves that had been previously collected. 'Merican Joe
took great care to so arrange these leaves that while the jaws, pan, and
spring were covered, no leaves would be caught in the angle of the jaws
and thus prevent their closing about the leg of the mink. The leaves
were now covered with snow, and the chain carried outward, buried in the
snow, and secured to a tossing pole.
The short sub-arctic day had drawn to a close even before the last set
was made, and in the darkness the two swung wide of their trap line, and
headed for the cabin.
"Fifteen sets isn't so bad for an afternoon's work," opined Connie,
"especially when you had to do all the work. Tomorrow I can help, and we
ought to be able to get out all the rest of the marten traps. There are
only fifty all told."
"Fifty steel traps--we git dem set first. We gon 'bout t'ree, four mile
today. We use up de steel trap in 'bout fifteen mile. Dat good--dey too
mooch heavy to carry. Den we begin to set de deadfall."
"Deadfalls!" cried Connie. "How many traps are we going to put out?"
"Oh, couple hondre marten an' mink trap. We git de trap line 'bout fifty
mile long. Den we set lot more _loup cervier_ snare."
They swung out on to their little lake about a mile above the camp and
as they mushed along near shore Connie stopped suddenly and pointed to a
great grey shape that was running swiftly across the mouth of a small
bay. The huge animal ran in a smooth, easy lope and in the starlight his
hair gleamed like silver.
"Look!" he whispered to the Indian. "There goes Leloo!" Even as he spoke
there came floating down the wind from the direction of the timber at
the head of the lake, the long-drawn howl of a wolf. Leloo halted in
his tracks and stood ears erect, motionless as a carved statue, until
the sound trailed away into silence. A fox trotted out of the timber
within ten yards of where the two stood watching and, catching sight of
Connie as the boy shifted his twenty-two, turned and dashed along a thin
sand point and straight across the lake, passing in his blind haste so
close to Leloo that his thick brush almost touched the motionless
animal's nose. But the big ruffed wolf-dog never gave so much as a
passing glance.
"That's funny," whispered Connie "Why didn't he grab that fox?"
"Leloo, he ain' fool wit' no fox tonight," answered 'Merican Joe. "He
goin' far off an' run de ridges wit' de big people." And even as the
Indian spoke, Leloo resumed his long, silent lope.
"I sure would like to follow him tonight," breathed the boy, as he
watched the great dog until he disappeared upon the smooth, white
surface of the lake where the aurora borealis was casting its weird,
shifting lights upon the snow.
The weather had moderated to about the zero mark and by the middle of
the following afternoon 'Merican Joe set the last of the remaining
marten traps. Connie proved an apt pupil and not only did he set
fourteen of the thirty-five traps, but each set was minutely examined
and approved by the critical eye of 'Merican Joe. When the last trap was
set, the Indian commenced the construction of deadfalls, and again
Connie became a mere spectator. And a very interested spectator he was
as he watched every movement of 'Merican Joe who, with only such
material as came to hand on the spot, and no tools except his belt ax
and knife, constructed and baited his cunningly devised deadfalls. These
traps were built upon stumps and logs and were of the common
figure-of-four type familiar to every schoolboy. The weight, or fall
log, was of sufficient size to break the back of a marten.
"De steel trap she bes'," explained the Indian. "She easy to set, an'
she ketch mor' marten. Wit' de steel trap if de marten com' 'long an'
smell de bait he mus' got to put de foot in de trap--but in de deadfall
she got to grab de bait an' give de pull to spring de trap. But, de
deadfall don't cost nuttin', an' if you go far de steel trap too mooch
heavy to carry. Dat why I set de steel trap in close, an' de deadfall
far out."
For four days the two continued to set deadfalls. The last two days
they packed their sleeping bags, camping where night overtook them, and
the evening of the fourth day found them with an even two hundred traps
and thirty lynx snares set, and a trap line that was approximately fifty
miles long and so arranged that either end was within a half mile of the
cabin.
"We go over de snare line in de swamp tomor'," said 'Merican Joe, as
they sat that night at their little table beside the roaring sheet-iron
stove, "an' next day we start over de trap line."
"About how many marten do you think we ought to catch?" asked Connie.
The Indian shrugged: "Can't tell 'bout de luck--sometam lot of
um--sometam mebbe-so not none."
"What do you mean by a lot?" persisted the boy.
"Oh, mebbe-so, twenty--twenty five."
"About one marten for every eight or ten traps," figured the boy.
The Indian nodded. "You set seven steel trap an' catch wan marten, dat
good. You set ten deadfall an' ketch wan marten, dat good, too."
"We've got six lynx snares down in the swamp to look at tomorrow. How
many lynx are we going to get?"
'Merican Joe grinned. "Mebbe-so not none--mebbe-so one, two. Dat all tam
bes' we count de skin w'en we git hom'."
"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, eh?" laughed Connie.
The Indian looked puzzled. "W'at you mean--chicken hatch?" And when the
boy explained to the best of his ability the old saw, 'Merican Joe, who
had never seen a chicken in his life, nodded sagely. "Dat right--an' you
ain' kin count de fur hatch first, nieder."