“And now their hatchets, with resounding stroke,
Hew’d down the boscage that around them rose,
And the dry pine of brittle branches broke,
To yield them fuel for the night’s repose;
The gathered heap an ample store bespoke.
They smite the steel: the tinder brightly glows,
And the fired match the kindled flames awoke,
And light upon night’s seated darkness broke.
High branch’d the pines, and far the colonnade
Of tapering trunks stood glimmering through the glen;
So joyed the hunters in their lonely glade.”
“Hurra! the stragglers have arrived!” exclaimed Codman, the first to
notice the hunter and Claud as they shot into the mouth of the small,
quiet river, on whose bank was busily progressing the work of the
incipient encampment. “Hurra for the arrival of the good ship Brag,
Phillips, master; but where is his black duck, with a big trout to its
foot? Ah, ha! not forthcoming, hey? Kuk-kuk-ke-oh-o!”
“Don’t crow till you see what I have got, Mr. Trapper,” replied the
hunter, running in his canoe by the sides of those of his companions on
shore. “Don’t crow yet,--especially over the failure of what I didn’t
undertake: you or Mr. Carvil was to furnish the big trout, you will
recollect.”
“That has been attended to by me, to the satisfaction of the company, I
rather think,” remarked Carvil, now advancing towards the bank with the
rest. “Not only one big trout, but two more with it, was drawn in by my
method, on the way.”
“O, accident, accident!” waggishly rejoined the trapper; “they were
hooked by mere accident. The fact is, the trouts are so thick in these
lakes that a hook and line can’t be drawn such a distance through them
without getting into some of their mouths. But, allowing it otherwise,
it don’t cure but half of your case, Mr. Hunter. Where is the black
duck?”
“_Here_ is the black duck,” responded the hunter, stepping ashore and
drawing his cub out from under some screening boughs in the bow of the
boat.
A lively shout of laughter burst from the lips of the company at the
disclosure, showing alike their amusement at the practical way in which
the hunter had turned the jokes of the teasing trapper, and their
agreeable surprise at his luck in the uncertain hunting cruise along
the shores, on which they, without any expectation of his success, had
banteringly dispatched him. “Ah, I think you may as well give up beat,
all round, Mr. Codman,” observed Mark Elwood, after the surprise and
laughter had subsided. “But come up here, neighbor Phillips, and see
what a nice place we are going to have for our camp.”
Leaving the game in charge of Claud and Carvil, who volunteered to
dress it, the rest of the company walked up with the hunter to the spot
where the new shanty was in progress, wishing to hear his opinion of
the location selected, and the plan on which it had been commenced.
The location to which the company had been guided by the trapper was
a level space, about ten rods back from the stream here falling into
the lake from the east, and at the foot of a rocky acclivity forming
a portion of the southern side of a high ridge that ran down to the
lake. The first ten feet of the rise was formed by the smooth, even
face of a perpendicular rock, which from the narrow shelf at the top
fell off into a less precipitous ascent, extending up as far as the
eye could reach among the stunted evergreens and other low bushes that
partially covered it. About a dozen feet in front of this abutting
rock, equidistant from it, and some fifteen feet apart, stood two
spruce trees, six or eight inches in diameter at the bottom, but tall,
and tapering towards the top. These, the company, who had reached the
place about two hours before, had contrived, by rolling up some old
logs to stand on, to cut off, and fell, six or seven feet from the
ground; so that the tall stumps might serve for the two front posts of
the proposed structure. And, having trimmed out the tops of the two
fallen trees, and cut them into the required lengths, they had laid
them from the top of the rock to the tops of the stumps, which had been
first grooved out, so as to receive and securely fasten the ends of
the timbers. These, with the stout poles which they had then cut and
laid on transversely, at short intervals, made a substantial framework
for the roof of the shantee. And, in addition to this, rows of side
and front posts had been cut, sharpened, driven into the ground at the
bottom, and securely fastened at the top to the two rafters at the
sides and the principal beam, which had been notched into them at the
lower ends to serve for the front plate.
“Just the spot,” said the hunter, after running his eye over and around
the locality a moment, and then going up and inspecting the structure
in progress. “I thought Codman could not miss so remarkable a place. I
have been thinking of building a camp here for several years; but it
never seemed to come just right till this fall. Why, you all must have
worked like beavers to get along with the job so well, and to do it
so thoroughly. The bones of the thing are all now up, as far as I can
see, and made strong enough to withstand all the snows and blows of
half a dozen winters. So, now, nothing remains but to put on the bark
covering.”
“But how are we to get the bark covering?” asked Gaut Gurley. “Bark
will not peel well at this season, will it?”
“No, not very well, I suppose,” replied the former. “But I will see
what I can do towards hunting up the material, to-morrow. A coat of
these spruce boughs, spread over this framework above, and set up
here against the sides, will answer for to-night. And this rigging
up, gathering hemlock boughs for our beds, building a good fire here
in front, and cooking the supper, are all we had better think of
attempting this evening; and, as it is now about sunset, let us divide
off the labor, and go at it.”
The encampment of these adventurous woodsmen presented, for the
next hour, a stirring and animated scene. The different duties to
be performed having been apportioned by mutual agreement among the
company, they proceeded with cheerful alacrity to the performance of
their respective tasks. Phillips and Carvil set busily to work in
covering, inclosing, and rigging up the camp,--to adopt the woodsman’s
use of that word, as we notify the critic we shall do, as often as
we please, albeit that use, contrary to Noah Webster, indicates the
structure in which men lodge in the woods, rather than the place or
company encamping. Mark Elwood, Gaut Gurley, and the young Indian
Tomah, proceeding to a neighboring windfall of different kinds of wood,
went to work in cutting and drawing up a supply of fuel, among which,
the accustomed backlog, forestick, and intermediate kindling-wood,
being adjusted before the entrance of the camp, the fire from the
smitten steel and preserving punkwood was soon crackling and throwing
around its ruddy glow, as it more and more successfully competed
with the waning light of the departing day. Claud and Codman, in
fulfilment of their part of the business on hand, then unpacked the
light frying-pans, laid in them the customary slices of fat salted
pork, and shortly had them sharply hissing over the fire, preparatory
to receiving respectively their allotted quotas of the tender and
nutritious bearsteaks, or the broad layers of the rich, red-meated
trout.
In a short time the plentiful contents of the pans were thoroughly
cooked, the pans taken from the fires, the potatoes raked from the
glowing embers, in which they had been roasting under the forestick,
the brown bread and condiments brought forward, and all placed upon
the even face of a broad, thin sheet of cleft rock, which they had
luckily found in the adjacent ledge, and brought forward and elevated
on blocks within the camp, to serve, as it well did, for their sylvan
table. Gathering round this, they proceeded to help themselves,
with their camp knives and rude trenchers, split from blocks of the
freely-cleaving bass-wood, to such kinds and portions of the savory
viands, smoking so invitingly in the pans before them, as their
inclinations severally prompted. Having done this, they drew back to
seats on broad chips, blocks of wood, piles of boughs, or other objects
nearest at hand, and began upon their long anticipated meal with a
gusto which made them for a while too busy for conversation, other than
an occasional brief remark on the quality of the food, or some jocose
allusion to the adventures of the day. After they had finished their
repast, however, and cleared away the relics of the supper, together
with the few utensils they had used in cooking and eating it, they
replenished their fire; and, while the cheerful light of its fagot-fed
blaze was flashing up against the dark forest around, and shooting
away through the openings of the foliage in long glimmering lines over
the waters below, they all placed themselves at their ease,--some
sitting on blocks, some leaning against the posts, and some reclining
on piles of boughs,--and commenced the social confab, or that general
conversation, in which woodsmen, if they ever do, are prone to indulge
after the fatigues of the day are over, and the consequent demands of
appetite have been appeased by a satisfactory meal.
“Now, gentlemen, I will make a proposition,” said Mark Elwood, in a
pause of the conversation, which, though it had been engaged in with
considerable spirit, yet now began to flag. “I will propose, as we have
an hour or two on hand, to be spent somehow, before we shall think of
rolling ourselves up in our blankets for the night,--I propose that you
professional hunters, like Phillips, Codman, and Carvil, here, each
give us a story of one of your most remarkable adventures in the woods.
It would not only while away the hour pleasantly for us all, but might
furnish useful information and timely hints for us beginners in this
new life, upon which we are about to enter. For my part, I should like
to listen to a story, by these old witnesses, of the strange things
they must have encountered in the woods. What say you, Gurley, Claud,
and Tomah? Shall we put them on the stand?”
“Yes, a good idea,” replied Gaut, his habitual cold reserve relaxing
into something like cordiality; “I feel just in the humor to
listen,--more so than to talk, on this hearty supper. Yes, by all means
let us have the stories.”
“O, I should be exceedingly gratified,” joined in Claud, in his usual
frank and animated manner.
“I like that, too; like to hear hunting story, always, much,” added
Tomah, with a glistening eye.
“Well, no particular objection as far as I am concerned,” responded the
trapper, seriously; but adding, with his old waggish gleam of the eye:
“that is, if you will take what I give, and swallow it as easily as you
did Phillips’ fish story. But let Carvil, who must be the youngest, go
on with _his_ story first; I will follow; and Phillips shall bring up
the rear.”
Carvil, after making a few excuses that were not suffered to avail him,
commenced his narration, which we will head
THE AMATEUR WOODSMAN’S STORY.
“I call myself a woodsman, and a pretty good one, now; but, four years
ago, I was almost any thing else but one of any kind. I should have
then thought it would have certainly been the death of me to have lain
out one night in the woods. And I had no more idea of ever becoming a
hunter or trapper, to remain out, as I have since done, for weeks and
months in the depths of the wilderness, with no other protection than
my rifle, and no other shelter than what I could fix up with my hatchet
for the night, where I happened to be, on the approach of darkness,
than I now have of undertaking to swim the Atlantic. And, as the
circumstances which led to this revolution in my opinions and habits,
when _out_ of the woods, may as much interest you, in the account, as
any thing that happened to me after I got into them, I will first
briefly tell you how I came to be a woodsman, and then answer your call
by relating a hunting incident which occurred to me after I became one;
which, if not very marvellous, shall, at least, have the merit of truth
and reality.
“I was brought up rather tenderly, as to work; and my parents, absurdly
believing that, with my then slight frame, any employment requiring
any labor or physical exertion would injure me, put me to study, and
assisted me to the means of entering college at eighteen, and of
graduating at twenty-two. Well, I did not misimprove my opportunities
for knowledge, I believe; but, instead of gaining strength and manhood
by my exemption from labor, I grew feebler and feebler. Still, I did
not know what was wanting to give me health and constitution, nor once
think that a mind without a body is a thing not worth having; and so
I went on, keeping within doors and studying a profession, until I
found myself a poor, nervous, miserable dyspeptic, and threatened with
consumption. It was now plain enough that, if I would avoid a speedy
death, something must be done; and, by the advice of the doctors,
who were about as ignorant of the philosophy of health as myself, I
concluded to seek a residence and livelihood in one of the Southern
States. Accordingly, I packed up and took stage for Boston, timing
my journey so as to get there the day before the ship, on which I
had previously ascertained I could find a passage, was to sail for
Savannah. But, the morning after I arrived, a severe storm came on,
and the sailing of the ship was deferred till the next day; so, having
nothing to do, knowing nobody to talk with, and the weather being
too stormy to go out to see the city, I took to my solitary room in
the hotel, where, fortunately, there were neither books not papers
to prevent me from thinking. And I _did_ think, that day, almost
for the first time in my life, without the trammels of fashionable
book-theories, and more effectually than I had ever done before. I had
a favorite classmate in college, whose name was Silas Wright, who had
a mind that penetrated, like light, every thing it was turned upon,
and who never failed to see the truth of a matter, though his towering
ambition sometimes prevented him from following the path where it led.
In recalling, as I was pacing the floor that gloomy day, my old college
friends and their conversation, I happened to think of what Wright once
said to me on the subject of health and long life.
“‘Carvil,’ said he, ‘did you know that we students were committing
treason against the great laws of life which God has laid down for us?’
“‘No.’
“‘Well, we are. Man was made for active life, and in the open air.’
“‘But _you_, it seems, are not observing the theory about which you are
so positive?’
“‘No, and don’t intend to. To observe that, I must relinquish all
thought of mounting the professional and political ladder, even half
way to the mark I _must_ and _will_ reach. I have naturally a strong
constitution, and I calculate it will last, with the rapid mounting I
intend, till I reach the top round, and that is all that I care for.
But I shall know, all the while, that I am going up like a rocket,
whose height and brilliancy are only attained by the certain and rapid
wasting of the substance that composes it. But the case is different
with you, Carvil. You have a constitution yet to make, or your rocket
will go out, before you can get high enough, in these days of jostling
and severe competition, to warrant the attempt of mounting at all.’
“Such was one of Wright’s intuitive grasps at the truth, hid under
the false notions of the times, or the artificial theories of books,
which he was wasting his life to master, and often only mastering to
despise. And I, being now earnestly in search of the best means of
health, eagerly caught at his notion, which placed the matter in a
light in which I had never before seriously viewed it, and, indeed,
struck me with a force that soon brought mo to a dead stand in all my
calculations for the future. ‘What is it,’ thought I, running into a
sort of mental dialogue with myself, and calling in what little true
science I had learned, to aid me in fully testing the soundness of
the notion, before I finally gave in to it; ‘what is it that hardens
the muscles, and compacts the human system?’--‘Thorough exercise, and
constant use.’--‘Can these be had in the study-room?’--‘No.’--‘And
what is the invigorating and fattening principle of the air
we breathe?’--‘Oxygen.’--‘Can this be had in the close or
artificially-heated room?’--‘No, except in stinted and uncertain
proportions. It can be breathed in the open fields, but much more
abundantly in the woods.’--‘Well, what do I need?’--‘Only hardening and
invigorating.’--‘But shall I go to the relaxing clime of the South for
this?’--‘No; the northern wilderness were a hundred times better.’--‘It
is settled, then.’--‘Landlord,’ I cried aloud, as I saw that personage
at that moment passing by my partly open door, ‘when does the first
stage, going north, start?’
“‘In twenty minutes, and from my door.’
“‘Order on my luggage, here; make out your bill; and I will be on hand.’
“And I was on hand at the time, and the next hour on my way home, which
I duly reached, but only to start off immediately to the residence of a
hunter acquaintance, a dozen miles off, who, I knew, was about to start
for the head-waters of the Connecticut, on his annual fall hunting
expedition. I found him, joined him, and within ten days was entering,
with pack and rifle, the unbroken wilderness, by his side, though with
many misgivings. But my first night out tested and settled the matter
forever. We had had a fatiguing march, at least to me, and the last
part of it in the rain. We had to lay down in a leaking camp, and I
counted myself a dead man. But, to my astonishment, I awoke the next
morning, unhurt, and even feeling better than I had for a month. And
I constantly grew better and hardier, through that and my next year’s
campaign in that region, and through the two succeeding ones I made
on the Great Megantic; where the incident which I propose to relate
to you, it being my best strike in moose-hunting, occurred, and which
happened in this wise:
“It was a raw, gloomy day in November, and I had been lazily lying in
my solitary camp, on the borders of this magnificent lake, all the
forenoon. But, after dinner, I began to feel a little more like action,
and soon concluded I would explore a sort of creek-looking stream,
four or five rods wide, which I had noticed entering the lake about
a mile off, but which I had never entered. Accordingly, I loaded my
rifle, took my powder-horn, put two spare bullets in my vest-pocket,
not supposing I could have use for more, entered my canoe, and pulled
leisurely away for the place. After reaching and entering this sluggish
stream, I went on paddling and pushing my way along through and under
the overhanging bushes and treetops, something like half a mile, when I
came to higher banks and a series of knolls jutting down to the stream,
which, with frequent sharp curves and crooks, wound its way among them.
On turning one of these sharp points, my eyes suddenly encountered a
sight that made my heart jump. On a high, open, and almost bare bluff,
directly before me, and not fifteen rods distant, stood two tremendous
moose, as unconcernedly as a pair of oxen chewing their cuds, or dozing
in a pasture. The last was unusually large, the biggest a monster,
appearing, to my wide-opened eyes, with his eight or nine foot height,
and ten or eleven foot spread of antlers, as he stood up there against
the sky, like some reproduced mastodon of the old legends. Quietly
falling back and running in under a screening treetop, I pulled down
a branch and put it under my foot to hold and steady my canoe. When I
raised my rifle, I aimed it for the heart of the big moose, and fired.
But, to my great surprise, the animal never stirred nor moved a muscle.
Supposing I had somehow unaccountably missed hitting him, even at all,
I fell, with nervous haste, to reloading my piece; and, having got all
right, as I supposed, I raised it this time towards the smaller moose,
standing a little nearer and presenting a fairer mark; took a long and
careful aim, and again let drive; but again without the least effect.
Utterly confounded to have missed a second time, with so fair a shot, I
stood half confused a moment, first querying whether something was not
the matter with my eyes, and then thinking of stories I had heard of
witches turning away bullets from their object. But I soon mechanically
began to load up again; and, having got in my powder, I put my hand in
my pocket for a bullet, when I found there both the balls I had brought
with me from camp, and consequently knew that, in my eager haste in
loading for my last shot, I had neglected to put in any bullet at all!
But I now put in the bullet, looked at it after it was entered, to make
sure it was there, and then felt it all the way down, till I had rammed
it home. I then raised the luckless piece once more, uncertain at
first which of the two moose I should take, this time. But, seeing the
smaller one beginning to move his head and lay back his horns, which
I well enough knew was his signal for running, I instantly decided
to take _him_, took a quick, good aim, and fired. With three dashing
bounds forward, the animal plunged headlong to the ground. Knowing that
one to be secure, at least, I then turned my attention to the big one.
To my astonishment, he was still there, and, notwithstanding all the
firing, had not moved an inch. But, before I got loaded for another
trial upon him, I looked up again, when a motion in his body had become
plainly visible. Presently he began to sway to and fro, like a rocking
tower, and, the next moment, went over broadside, with a thundering
crash, into the bushes. My first shot, it appeared, had, after all,
done the business, having pierced his lungs and caused an inward flow
of blood, that stopped his breath at the time he fell. All was now
explained, except the wonder that such shy animals should stand so much
firing without running. But the probability is, that, not seeing me,
they took the reports of my rifle for some natural sound, such as that
of thunder, or the falling of a tree; while, perhaps, the great one,
when he was hit, was too much paralyzed to move, by the rupture of some
important nerve. But, however that may be, you have the facts by which
to judge for yourselves. And I have now only to add, that, having gone
to the spot, bled, partially dressed the animals, and got them into
a condition to be left, I went off to the nearest camps and rallied
out help; when, after much toil and tugging, we got the carcasses
home to my shanty, for present eating, curing, and distributing among
the neighboring hunters, who soon flocked in to congratulate me on my
singular good luck, and receive their ever freely-bestowed portions,
and who unanimously pronounced my big prize the largest moose ever
slain in all the regions of the Great Megantic.”
THE TRAPPER’S STORY.
“My story,” commenced the trapper, who was next called on for his
promised contribution to the entertainment of the evening, “my story
is of a different character from the one you have just heard. It don’t
run so much to the great and terrible as the small and curious. It may
appear to you perhaps a little queer, in some parts; but which, after
the modest drafts that have been made on my credulity, you will, of
course, have the good manners to believe. It relates to an adventure
in beaver-hunting, which I met with, many years ago, on Moosehead
Lake, where I served my apprenticeship at trapping. I had established
myself in camp, the last of August, about the time the beavers, after
having collected in communities, and established their never-failing
democratic government, generally get fairly at work on their dams and
dwelling-houses, for the ensuing cold months, in places along the small
streams, which they have looked out and decided on for the purpose. I
was thus early on the ground, in order to have time, before I went to
other hunting, to look up the localities of the different societies,
so that I need not blunder on them and disturb them, in the chase for
other animals, and so that I should know where to find them, when
their fur got thick enough to warrant the onslaught upon them which I
designed to make.
“In hunting for these localities in the vicinity around me, I soon
unexpectedly discovered marks of what I thought must be a very
promising one, situated on a small stream, not over half a mile
in a bee-line over the hills from my camp. When I discovered the
place,--as I did from encountering, at short intervals in the woods,
two wolverines, always the great enemy and generally the prowling
attendant of assembled beavers,--these curious creatures had just
begun to lay the foundation of their dam. And the place being so near,
and the nights moon-light, I concluded I would go over occasionally,
evenings,--the night being the only time when they can ever be seen
engaged on their work,--and see if I could gain some covert near the
bank, where, unperceived, I might watch their operations, and obtain
some new knowledge of their habits, of which I might thereafter avail
myself, when the season for hunting them arrived. Accordingly, I went
over that very evening, in the twilight, secured a favorable lookout,
and laid in wait for the appearance of the beavers. Presently I was
startled by a loud rap, as of a small paddle struck flatwise on the
water, then another, and another, in quick succession. It was the
signal of the master workman, for all the workers to leave their
hiding-places in the banks, and repair to their labors in making the
dam. The next moment the whole stream seemed to be alive with the
numbers in motion. I could hear them, sousing and plunging in the
water, in every direction,--then swimming and puffing across or up and
down the stream,--then scrambling up the banks,--then the auger-like
sound of their sharp teeth, at work on the small trees,--then soon
the falling of the trees,--then the rustling and tugging of the
creatures, in getting the fallen trees out of the water,--and, finally,
the surging and splashing with which they came swimming towards the
groundwork of the dam, with the butt end of those trees in their
mouths. The line of the dam they had begun, passed with a curve up
stream in the middle, so as to give it more strength to resist the
current; across the low-water bed of the river some five rods; and
extended up over the first low bank, about as much farther, to a second
and higher bank, which must have bounded the water at the greatest
floods. They had already cut, drawn on, and put down, a double layer
of trees, with their butts brought up evenly to the central line, and
their tops pointing in opposite directions,--those of one layer, or
row, pointing up, and those of the other, down stream. Among and under
this line of butts had been worked in an extra quantity of limbs, old
wood, and short bushes, so as to give the centre an elevation of a foot
or two, over the lowest part of the sides, which, of course, fell off
considerably each way in the lessening of the tops of the trees, thus
put down. Over all these they had plastered mud, mixed in with stones,
grass, and moss, so thick as not only to hold down securely the bodies
of the trees, but nearly conceal them from sight.
“Scarcely had I time to glance over these works, which I had not
approached near enough to inspect much, before the beavers from below,
and above came tugging along, by dozens on a side to the lower edges
of their embankment, with the loads or rafts of trees which they had
respectively drawn to the spot. Lodging these on the solid ground, with
the ends just out of water, they relinquished their holds, mounted the
slopes, paused a minute to take breath, and then, seizing these ends
again, drew them, with the seeming strength of horses, out of the water
and up to the central line on top; laid the stems or bodies of the
trees parallel, and as near together as they could be got; and adjusted
the butt ends, as I have stated they did with the foundation layers,
so as to bring them to a sort of joint on the top. They then all went
off for new loads, with the exception of a small squad, a part of which
were still holding their trees in a small space in the dam, where the
current had not been checked, and the other part bringing stones, till
they had confined the trees down to the bottom, so that they would
not be swept away. This task of filling the gap, however, after some
severe struggling with the current, was before long accomplished;
when those engaged upon it joined in the common work, in which they
steadily persevered till this second double layer of trees, with the
large quantities of short bushes which they brought and wove into the
chinks, near the top, was completed, through the whole length of their
dam. They then collected along on the top of the dam, and seemed to
hold a sort of consultation, after which they scattered for the banks
of the stream, but soon returned, walking on their hind legs, and
each bringing a load of mud or stones, held between his fore paws and
throat. These loads were successively deposited, as they came up, among
the stems and interlacing branches of the trees and bushes they had
just laid down, giving each deposited pile, as they turned to go back,
a smart blow with the flat of their broad thick tails, producing the
same sound as the one I have mentioned as the signal-raps for calling
them out to work, only far less loud and sharp, since the former raps
were struck on water, and the latter on mud or rubbish. Thus they
continued to work,--and work, too, with a will, if any creatures ever
did,--till I had seen nearly the whole of the last layers plastered
over.
“Thinking now I had seen all that would be new and useful to me, I
noiselessly crept away and returned to camp, to lay awake half the
night, in my excitement, and to dream, the other half, about this
magnificent society of beavers, whose numbers I could not make less
than three dozen. I did not go to steal another view of the place for
nearly a week, and then went in the daytime, there now being no moon,
till late,--when, to my surprise, I found the dam finished, and the
river flowed into a pond of several acres, while on each side, ranged
along, one after another, stood three family dwellings in different
states of progress; some of them only rising to the surface of the
water, showing the nature of the structure, which, you know, is built
up with short, small logs, and mud, in a squarish form, of about the
size of a large chimney; while others, having been built up a foot or
two above the water, and the windows fashioned, had been arched over
with mud and sticks, and were already nearly finished.
“Knowing that the establishment was now so nearly completed that the
beavers would not relinquish it without being disturbed by the presence
of a human foe,--which they will sometimes detect, I think, at nearly
a quarter of a mile distance,--I concluded to keep entirely away from
them till the time of my contemplated onslaught, which I finally
decided to begin on one of the first days of the coming November.
“Well, what with hunting deer, bear, and so on, for food, and lynx,
otter, and sable, for furs, the next two months passed away, and the
long anticipated November at length arrived; when, one dark, cloudy
day, having cut a lot of bits of green wood for bait, got out my vial
of castor to scent them with, and got my steel traps in order, with
these equipments and my rifle I set off, for the purpose of commencing
operations, of some kind, on my community of beavers. On reaching the
spot, I crept to my old covert with the same precautions I had used on
my former visits, thinking it likely enough that, on so dark a day,
some of the beavers might be out; and, wishing to know how this was,
before proceeding openly along the banks to look out the right places
to set my traps, I listened a while, but could hear no splashing about
the pond, or detect any _other_ sounds indicating that the creatures
were astir; but, on peering out, I saw a large, old beaver perched
in a window of one of the beaver-houses on the opposite shore. I
instinctively drew up my rifle,--for it was a fair shot, and I knew
I could draw him,--but I forbore, and contented myself with watching
his motions. I might have lain there ten minutes, perhaps, when this
leader, or judge in the beaver Israel, as he soon showed himself to
be, quietly slid out into the water, swam into a central part of the
pond, and, after swimming twice or three times round in a small circle,
lifted his tail on high, and slowly and deliberately gave three of
those same old loud and startling raps on the water. He then swam back
to his cabin, and ascended an open flat on the bank, where all the
underbrush had been cut and cleared off in building the dam. In a few
minutes more, a large number of beavers might be seen hastening to the
spot, where they ranged themselves in a sort of circle, so as just
to inclose the old beaver which came first, and which had now taken
his stand on a little moss hillock, on the farther side of the little
opening, to which he had thus called them, and, evidently, for some
important public purpose. Soon another small band of the creatures made
their appearance on the bank above, seeming to have in custody two
great, lubberly, cowed-down looking beavers, that they were hunching
and driving along, as legal officers sometimes have to do with _their_
prisoners, when taking them to some dreaded punishment. When this last
band reached the place, with these two culprit-looking fellows, they
pushed them forward in front of the judge, as we will call him, and
then fell into the ranks, so as to close up the circle. There was then
a long, solemn pause, in which they all kept still in their places
round the prisoners, which had crouched sneaking down, without stirring
an inch from the places where they had been put. Soon, however, a
great, fierce, gruff-appearing beaver left the ranks, and, advancing
a few steps within them, reared himself on his haunches, and began
to sputter and gibber away at a great rate, making his fore-paws go
like the hands of some over-heated orator; now motioning respectfully
towards the judge, and now spitefully towards the prisoners, as if he
was making bitter accusations, and demanding judgment against them.
After this old fellow had got through, two or three others, in turn,
came forward, and appeared also to be holding forth about the matter,
but in a far milder manner than the other, which I now began much
to dislike for his spitefulness, and in the same proportion to pity
the two poor objects of his evident malice. There was then another
long and silent pause, after which, the judge proceeded to utter what
appeared to be his sentence; and, having brought it to a conclusion,
he gave a rap with his tail on the ground. At this signal, the beavers
in the ranks advanced, one after another, in rapid succession toward
the prisoners, and, circling round them once, turned and gave each
one of them a tremendous blow with their tails over the head and
shoulders; and so the heavy blows rapidly fell, whack, whack, whack,
till every beaver had taken his part in the punishment, and till
the poor prisoners keeled over, and lay nearly or quite dead on the
ground. The judge beaver then quietly left his stand and went off; and,
following his example, all the rest scattered and disappeared, except
the spiteful old fellow that had so raised my dislike, by the rancor he
displayed in pressing his accusations, and, afterwards, by giving the
culprits an extra blow, when it came his turn to strike them. He now
remained on the ground till all the rest were out of sight, when,--as
if to make sure of finishing what little remains of life the others,
in their compunction, might have left in the victims, so as to give
them, if they were not quite killed by the terrible bastinadoing they
had received, a chance to revive and crawl off,--he ran up, and began
to belabor them with the greatest fury over the head. This mean and
malicious addition to the old fellow’s previously unfair conduct was
too much for me to witness, and I instantly drew my rifle and laid him
dead beside the bodies he was so rancorously beating. Wading the stream
below the dam, I hastened to my prizes, finished their last struggles
with a stick, seized them by their tails, and dragged them to the spot
I had just left; and then, after concealing my traps, with the view
of waiting a few days before I set them, so as to give the society a
chance to get settled, I tugged the game I had so strangely come by,
home to camp, where a more particular examination showed them to be the
three largest and best-furred beavers I had ever taken.
“This brings me to the end of the unaccountable affair, and all I
can say in explanation of it; for how these creatures, ingenious and
knowing as they are, should have the intelligence to make laws,--as
this case seems to pre-suppose,--get up a regular court, try, sentence,
and execute offenders; what these offenders had done,--whether they
were thievish interlopers from some other society, or whether they
had committed some crime, such as burglary, bigamy, or adultery, or
high treason, or whether they had been dishonest office-holders in the
society and plundered the common treasury, is a mystery which you can
solve as well as I. Certainly you cannot be more puzzled than I have
always been, in giving the matter a satisfactory explanation.
“And now, in conclusion, if you wish to know how I afterwards succeeded
in taking more of this notable society of beavers, I have only to say,
that, having soon commenced operations anew, I took, before I quit the
ground that fall, by rifle, by traps, by digging or hooking them out of
their hiding places in the banks, and, finally, by breaking up their
dwelling-houses, twenty-one beavers in all; making the best lot which
I ever had the pleasure of carrying out of the woods, and for which, a
month or two after, I was paid, in market, one hundred and sixty-eight
hard dollars.”
THE OLD HUNTER’S STORY.
“I never but once,” commenced the hunter, who had announced himself
ready with the last story, when called on for that purpose by his
comrades, after they had commented to their liking on the trapper’s
strange adventure,--“I never but once, in my whole life, became afraid
of encountering a wild beast, or was too much unnerved in the presence
of one to fire my rifle with certainty and effect. But that, in one
event, I was in such a sorry condition for a hunter, I freely confess.
And, as you called for our most remarkable adventures, and as the
occurrence I allude to was certainly the most remarkable one _I_ ever
met with in _my_ hunting experience, I will relate it for the story you
assign me.
“It was about a dozen years ago, and on the borders of lake Parmagena,
a squarish-shaped body of water, four or five miles in extent, lying
twenty-five miles or so over these mountains to the northwest of
us, and making up the chief head-water of the river Magalloway. My
camp was at the mouth of the principal inlet, and my most frequented
hunting route up along its bank. On my excursions up that river, I had
often noticed a deeply-wooded, rough, and singularly-shaped mountain,
which, at the distance of four or five miles from the nearest point
of the stream, westward, reared its shaggy sides over the surrounding
wilderness, and which I thought must make one of the best haunts for
bear and moose that I had seen in that region. So, once having a
leisure day, and my fresh provisions being low, I concluded I would
take a jaunt up to this mountain, thinking that I should stand a good
chance to find something there, or on the way, to replenish my larder.
And accordingly I rigged up, after breakfast, and, setting my course in
what I judged would prove a bee-line for the place, in order to save
distance over the river route, I took up my march through the woods,
without path, trail, or marked trees to guide me.
“After a rough and toilsome walk of about three hours, I reached the
foot of the mountain of which I was in search, and seated myself on a
fallen tree, to rest and look about me. The side of the eminence next
to me was made up of a succession of rocky, heavily-timbered steeps and
shelves, that rose like battlements before me, while, about midway, it
was pierced or notched down by a dark, wild, thicket-tangled gorge,
which extended along back up the mountain, as far as the eye could
penetrate beneath, or overlook above the tops of the overhanging trees.
“To think of trying to ascend such steeps was out of the question;
and I was debating in mind whether I would attempt to go up through
that forbidding and _pokerish_-looking gorge, or, giving up the job
altogether, strike off in the direction of the river, and so go home
that way, when a hideous yell, which brought me instantly to my feet,
rose from an upper portion of the ravine, apparently about a hundred
rods distant. I at once knew it came from a painter, or “evil devil,”
as the Indians justly call that scourge and terror of the woods; and,
from the strength and volume of his voice, I also knew he must be a
large one, while, from its savage sharpness, I further conjectured
it must be a famine cry, which, if so, would show the animal to be a
doubly ticklish one to encounter.
“Feeling conscious that it was but the part of wisdom to avoid such an
encounter as I should be likely to be favored with if I remained where
I was, I soon moved off in an opposite direction, steering at once for
the nearest point of the river, which was at the termination of a long,
sharp sweep of the stream to the west, and nearer by a mile than in
most other parts of its course. I had not proceeded more than a quarter
of a mile before the same savage screech,--which was more frightful
than I can describe, being seemingly made up of the mingling tones of
a man’s and a woman’s voice, raised to the highest pitch in an agony
of rage or pain,--the same awful screech, I say, rose and thrilled
through the shuddering forest, coming this time, I perceived, from the
mouth of the gorge, where the animal had so quickly arrived, found my
trail, doubtless, and started on in pursuit. I now, though still not
really afraid, quickened my steps into a rapid walk, hoping that, now
he had got out of the thickets of the ravine, he would not follow me
far in the more open woods; yet thinking it best, at all events, to put
what distance I could between him and me, without too much disturbing
myself. Another of those terrific yells, however, coming from a nearer
point than before, as fast as I had made my way from him, told me that
the creature was on my tracks, and rapidly gaining on me in the race.
I then started off at a full run; but even this did not insure my
escape, for I was soon startled by another yell, so near and fierce,
that I involuntarily turned round, cocked my rifle, and stood on the
defence. The next moment the animal met my sight, as he leaped up on
to the trunk of a lodged tree, where he stood in open view, eagerly
snuffing and glaring around him, about forty rods from the place where
I had been brought to a stand,--revealing a monster whose size, big as
I had conjectured it, perfectly amazed me. He could not have been much
less than six feet from snout to tail, nor much short of nine, tail
included. But for his bowed-up back, gaunter form, and mottled color,
he might have passed for an ordinary lioness. The instant he saw me,
he began nervously fixing his paws, rapidly swaying his tail, like a
cat at the first sight of her intended prey, and giving other plain
indications that he was intent on having me for his dinner.
“I had my rifle to my shoulder: it was a fair shot, but still I
hesitated about firing. My experience with catamounts, which, though of
the same nature, are yet no more to be compared with a real panther,
like this, than a common cur to a stout bulldog, had taught me the
danger of wounding without killing them outright. If _those_ were so
dangerous under ordinary circumstances, what would this be, already
bent on destroying me? And should I stand, at that distance, an even
chance to finish him, which could only be done by putting a ball
through his brain, or spine, or directly through his heart? I thought
not. The distance was too great to be sure of any thing like that;
and besides, my nerves, I felt, were getting a little unsteady, and
I also found I was losing my faith, which is just the worst thing in
the world for a hunter to lose. While I was thinking of all this, the
creature leaped down, and, the next instant, I saw his head rise above
the bushes, in his prodigious bounds towards me. With that glance,
I turned and ran; ran as I never did before; leaping over logs, and
smashing headlong through brush and bushes, but still distinctly
hearing, above all the noise I made, the louder crash of the creature’s
footfalls, striking closer and closer behind me. All at once, however,
those crashing sounds ceased to fall on my ear, and the thought that
my pursuer had sprung one side into an ambush, from whence he would
pounce on me before I could see him, flashing over my mind, I suddenly
came to a stand, and peered eagerly but vainly among the bushes around
me for the crouching form of my foe. While thus engaged, a seeming
shadow passing over the open space above caused me to glance upward,
when, to my horror, I saw the monster coming down from a tree-top, with
glaring eyes, open mouth, and outspread claws, directly upon me! With a
bound, which at any other time I should have been utterly incapable of
making, I threw myself aside into the bushes just in time to escape his
terrible embrace; and, before he had rallied from the confusion caused
by striking the ground and missing his prey, I had gained the distance
of a dozen rods, and thrown myself behind a large tree. But what was
now to be done? I knew, from his trotting about and snuffing to regain
the sight and scent of me, which I could now distinctly hear, that he
would soon be upon me. If I distrusted the certainty of my aim before
this last fright, should I not do it much more now? I felt so; and,
as I was now within a mile of the river,--where, if I could reach it,
I thought it possible to find a way to baffle, at least, if I did not
kill, my ruthless pursuer,--I concluded that my best chance for life
was to run for the place. But, in peering out to ascertain the exact
whereabouts of the painter before I started, my ear caught the sound
of other and different footsteps; and the next moment I had a glimpse
of a bear’s head, bobbing up and down in his rapid course through the
bushes, as he ran at right angles, with all his might, directly through
the space between me and the painter, which, I saw, was now just
beginning to advance towards me, but which, to my great relief, had
seen and was turning in pursuit of the flying and frightened bear.
“But still, fearing he would give up that pursuit, and again take after
me, I ran for the river, which I at length reached, and threw myself
exhausted down on the bank. As it happened, I had struck the river
exactly at the intended point, which was where a small sand-island had
been thrown up in the middle of the stream. To this island, in case
I kept out of the claws and jaws of the painter till I reached the
river, I had calculated to wade; believing, from what I knew of the
repugnance of this class of animals to water, that he would not follow
me, or, if he did, I need not fail of shooting him dead while coming
through the stream. But I soon found that _I_ was not the only one that
had thought of this island, in our terrible extremity.
“I had lain but a few minutes on the bank, before I caught the sounds
of near and more distant footfalls approaching apace through the forest
above me. Starting up, I cocked my rifle, and darted behind a bush near
the edge of the water, and had scarcely gained the stand, when the same
bear that I had left fleeing before the painter, made his appearance a
few rods above me, coming full jump down the bank, plunging into the
stream, and swimming and rushing amain for the island. As soon as he
could clear the water, he galloped up to the highest part of his new
refuge, and commenced digging, in hot haste, a hole in the sand. The
instant he had made an excavation large and deep enough to hold his
body and sink it below the surface, he threw himself in on his back,
hurriedly scratched the sand at the sides a little over his belly and
shoulders, and lay still, with his paws stiffly braced upwards.
“The next moment the eagerly-pursuing painter came rushing down the
bank to the water, where the bear had entered it; when, after a
hesitating pause, he gave an angry yell, and, in two prodigious bounds,
landed on the edge of the island. Having raised my rifle for a helping
shot, if needed, I awaited, with beating heart and eyes wide open, the
coming encounter. With eyes shooting fire, the painter hastily fixed
his feet, and, with a long leap, came down on his intrenched opponent.
A cloud of dust instantly enveloped the combatants, but through it I
could see the ineffectual passes of the painter at the bear’s head,
and the rapid play of the bear’s hind paws under the painter’s belly.
This bout between them, however, was of but short continuance, and
terminated by the painter, which now leaped suddenly aside, and stood
for a moment eyeing his opponent askance, as if he had found in those
rending hind-claws already much more than he had bargained for. But,
quickly rousing himself, he prepared for the final conflict; and,
backing to the water’s edge, he gave one short bound forward, and,
leaping ten feet into the air, came down again, with a wild screech, on
his still unmoved antagonist.
“This time, so much more furiously flew up the dust and sand from the
spot, that I could see nothing; but the mingling growls and yells of
the desperately-grappling brutes were so terrific as to make the hair
stand up on my head. Presently, however, I could perceive that the
cries of the assailant, which had been becoming less and less fierce,
were now turning into howls of pain; and, the next moment, I saw him,
rent and bloody, with his entrails out and dragging on the ground
behind him, making off till he reached the water on the opposite side
of the island, when he staggered through the current, feebly crawled
up the bank, and disappeared in the woods, where he must have died
miserably within the hour.
“I went home a grateful man; leaving the bear, that had done me such
good service, to depart in peace, as I saw him doing before I left,
apparently little injured from the conflict.”