An Ugly Customer.
Directly behind the cottage stands a long, low, neatly constructed
building, which is divided by partitions into three rooms, of which
one is used as a wood-shed, another for a carpenter's shop, and the
third is what Frank calls his "museum." It contains stuffed birds and
animals, souvenirs of many a well-contested fight. Let us go and
examine them. About the middle of the building is the door which leads
into the museum, and, as you enter, the first object that catches your
eye is a large wild-cat, crouched on a stand which is elevated about
four feet above the floor, his back arched, every hair in his body
sticking toward his head, his mouth open, displaying a frightful array
of teeth, his ears laid back close to his head, and his sharp claws
spread out, presenting altogether a savage appearance; and you are
glad that you see him dead and stuffed, and not alive and running at
liberty in the forest in the full possession of strength. But the
young naturalist once stood face to face with this ugly customer under
very different circumstances.
About forty miles north of Lawrence lives an old man named Joseph
Lewis. He owns about five hundred acres of land, and in summer he
"farms it" very industriously; but as soon as the trapping season
approaches he leaves his property to the care of his hired men, and
spends most of the time in the woods. About two-thirds of his farm is
still in its primeval state, and bears, wild-cats, and panthers abound
in great numbers. The village boys are never more delighted than when
the winter vacation comes, and they can gain the permission of their
parents to spend a fortnight with "Uncle Joe," as they call him.
The old man is always glad to see them, and enlivens the long winter
evenings with many a thrilling story of his early life. During the
winter that had just passed, Frank, in company with his cousin Archie
Winters, of whom more hereafter, paid a visit to Uncle Joe. One cold,
stormy morning, as they sat before a blazing fire, cracking
hickory-nuts, the farmer burst suddenly into the house, which was
built of logs, and contained but one room, and commenced taking down
his rifle.
"What's the matter, Uncle Joe?" inquired Archie.
"Matter!" repeated the farmer; "why, some carnal varmint got into my
sheep-pen last night, and walked off with some of my mutton. Come," he
continued, as he slung on his bullet-pouch, "let's go and shoot him."
Frank and Archie were ready in a few minutes; and, after dropping a
couple of buck-shot into each barrel of their guns, followed the
farmer out to the sheep-pen. It was storming violently, and it was
with great difficulty that they could find the "varmint's" track.
After half an hour's search, however, with the assistance of the
farmer's dogs, they discovered it, and began to follow it up, the dogs
leading the way. But the snow had fallen so deep that it almost
covered the scent, and they frequently found themselves at fault.
After following the track for two hours, the dogs suddenly stopped at
a pile of hemlock-boughs, and began to whine and scratch as if they
had discovered something.
"Wal," said Uncle Joe, dropping his rifle into the hollow of his arm,
"the hounds have found some of the mutton, but the varmint has took
himself safe off."
The boys quickly threw aside the boughs, and in a few moments the
mangled remains of one of the sheep were brought to light. The thief
had probably had more than enough for one meal, and had hidden the
surplus carefully away, intending, no doubt, to return and make a
meal of it when food was not quite so plenty.
"Wal, boys," said the farmer, "no use to try to foller the varmint any
further. Put the sheep back where you found it, and this afternoon you
can take one of your traps and set it so that you can ketch him when
he comes back for what he has left." So saying, he shouldered his
rifle and walked off, followed by his hounds.
In a few moments the boys had placed every thing as they had found it
as nearly as possible, and hurried on after the farmer.
That afternoon, after disposing of an excellent dinner, Frank and
Archie started into the woods to set a trap for the thief. They took
with them a large wolf-trap, weighing about thirty pounds. It was a
"savage thing," as Uncle Joe said, with a powerful spring on each
side, which severely taxed their united strength in setting it; and
its thick, stout jaws, which came together with a noise like the
report of a gun, were armed with long, sharp teeth; and if a wolf or
panther once got his foot between them, he might as well give up
without a struggle. Instead of their guns, each shouldered an ax.
Frank took possession of the trap, and Archie carried a piece of heavy
chain with which to fasten the "clog" to the trap. Half an hour's walk
brought them to the place where the wild-cat had buried his plunder.
After considerable exertion they succeeded in setting the trap, and
placed it in such a manner that it would be impossible for any animal
to get at the sheep without being caught. The chain was them fastened
to the trap, and to this was attached the clog, which was a long,
heavy limb. Trappers, when they wish to take such powerful animals as
the bear or panther, always make use of the clog. They never fasten
the trap to a stationary object. When the animal finds that he is
caught, his first impulse is to run. The clog is not heavy enough to
hold him still, but as he drags it through the woods, it is
continually catching on bushes and frees, and retarding his progress.
But if the animal should find himself unable to move at all, his long,
sharp teeth would be put to immediate use, and he would hobble off on
three feet, leaving the other in the trap.
After adjusting the clog to their satisfaction, they threw a few
handfuls of snow over the trap and chain, and, after bestowing a few
finishing touches, they shouldered their axes and started toward the
house. The next morning, at the first peep of day, Frank and Archie
started for the woods, with their dogs close at their heels. As they
approached the spot where the trap had been placed they held their
guns in readiness, expecting to find the wild-cat secure. But they
were disappointed; every thing was just as they had left it, and
there were no signs of the wild-cat having been about during the
night. Every night and morning for a week they were regular in their
visits to the trap, but not even a twig had been moved. Two weeks more
passed, and during this time they visited the trap but once. At length
the time allotted for their stay at Uncle Joe's expired. On the
evening previous to the day set for their departure, as they sat
before the huge, old-fashioned fireplace, telling stories and eating
nuts. Uncle Joe suddenly inquired, "Boys, did you bring in your trap
that you set for that wild-cat?"
They had not thought of it; they had been hunting nearly every day,
enjoying rare sport, and they had entirely forgotten that they had a
trap to look after.
"We shall be obliged to let it go until to-morrow," said Frank.
And the next morning, as soon as it was light, he was up and dressed,
and shouldering an ax, set out with Brave as a companion, leaving
Archie in a sound sleep. It was very careless in him not to take his
gun--a "regular boy's trick," as Uncle Joe afterward remarked; but it
did not then occur to him that he was acting foolishly; and he trudged
off, whistling merrily. A few moments' rapid walking brought him to
the place where the trap had been set. How he started! There lay the
remains of the sheep all exposed. The snow near it was saturated with
blood, and the trap, clog, and all were gone. What was he to do? He
was armed with an ax, and he knew that with it he could make but a
poor show of resistance against an enraged wild animal; and he knew,
too, that one that could walk off with fifty pounds fast to his leg
would be an ugly customer to handle. He had left Brave some distance
back, digging at a hole in a stump where a mink had taken refuge, and
he had not yet come up. If the Newfoundlander had been by his side he
would have felt comparatively safe. Frank stood for some minutes
undecided how to act. Should he go back to the house and get
assistance? Even if he had concluded to do so he would not have
considered himself a coward; for, attacking a wounded wild-cat in the
woods, with nothing but an ax to depend on, was an undertaking that
would have made a larger and stronger person than Frank hesitate.
Their astonishing activity and strength, and wonderful tenacity of
life, render them antagonists not to be despised. Besides, Frank was
but a boy, and although strong and active for his age, and possessing
a good share of determined courage that sometimes amounted almost to
rashness, it must be confessed that his feelings were not of the most
enviable nature. He had not yet discovered the animal, but he knew
that he could not be a great distance off, for the weight of the trap
and clog would retard him exceedingly; and he judged, from the
appearance of things, that he had not been long in the trap; perhaps,
at that very moment, his glaring eyes were fastened upon him from some
neighboring thicket.
But the young naturalist was not one to hesitate long because there
was difficulty or danger before him. He had made up his mind from the
first to capture that wild-cat if possible, and now the opportunity
was fairly before him. His hand was none of the steadiest as he drew
off his glove and placed his fingers to his lips; and the whistle that
followed was low and tremulous, very much unlike the loud, clear call
with which he was accustomed to let Brave know that he was wanted and
he hardly expected that the dog would hear it. A faint, distant bark,
however, announced that the call had been heard, and in a few moments
Frank heard Brave's long-measured bounds as he dashed through the
bushes; and when the faithful animal came in sight, he felt that he
had a friend that would stand by him to the last extremity. At this
juncture Frank was startled by a loud rattling in the bushes, and the
next moment the wild-cat sprang upon a fallen log, not half a dozen
rods from the place where he was standing, and, growling fiercely,
crouched and lashed his sides with his tail as if about to spring
toward him. The trap hung from one of his hind-legs, but by some means
he had relieved himself of the clog and chain, and he moved as if the
weight of the trap were no inconvenience whatever. The young
naturalist was frightened indeed, but bravely stood his ground, and
clutched his ax desperately. What would he not have given to have had
his trusty double-barrel in his hands! But he was not allowed much
time for reflection. Brave instantly discovered the wild-cat, and
sprang toward him, uttering an angry growl. Frank raised his ax and
rushed forward to his assistance, and cheered on the dog with a voice
which, to save his life, he could not raise above a whisper. The
wild-cat crouched lower along the log, and his actions seemed to
indicate that he intended to show fight. Brave's long, eager bounds
brought him nearer and nearer to his enemy. A moment more and he could
have seized him; but the wild-cat suddenly turned and sprang lightly
into the air, and, catching his claws into a tree that stood full
twenty feet distant, ascended it like a streak of light; and, after
settling himself between two large limbs, glared down upon his foes as
if he were already ashamed of having made a retreat, and had half a
mind to return and give them battle. Brave reached the log just a
moment too late, and finding his enemy fairly out of his reach, he
quietly seated himself at the foot of the tree and waited for Frank to
come up.
"Good gracious!" exclaimed the young naturalist, wiping his forehead
with his coat-sleeve, (for the exciting scene through which he had
just passed had brought the cold sweat from every pore in his body);
"it is a lucky circumstance for you and me, Brave, that the varmint
did not stand and show fight."
Then ordering the dog to "sit down and watch him," the young
naturalist threw down his ax, and started toward the house for his
gun. He was still very much excited, fearful that the wild-cat might
take it into his head to come down and give the dog battle, in which
case he would be certain to escape; for, although Brave was a very
powerful and courageous dog, he could make but a poor show against the
sharp teeth and claws of the wild-cat. The more Frank thought of it,
the more excited he became, and the faster he ran. In a very few
moments he reached the house, and burst into the room where Uncle Joe
and Archie and two or three hired men sat at breakfast. Frank seemed
not to notice them, but made straight across the room toward the place
where his shot-gun hung against the wall, upsetting chairs in his
progress, and creating a great confusion.
"What in tarnation is the matter?" exclaimed the farmer, rising to his
feet.
"I've found the wild-cat," answered Frank, in a scarcely audible
voice.
"What's that?" shouted Archie, springing to his feet, and upsetting
his chair and coffee-cup.
But Frank could not wait to answer. One bound carried him across the
floor and out of the door, and he started across the field at the top
of his speed, dropping a handful of buck-shot into each barrel of his
gun as he went. It was not until Frank had left the house that Archie,
so to speak, came to himself. He had been so astonished at his
cousin's actions and the announcement that he had "found the
wild-cat," that he seemed to be deprived of action. But Frank had not
made a dozen steps from the house before Archie made a dash for his
gun, and occasioned a greater uproar than Frank had done; and, not
stopping to hear the farmer's injunction to "be careful," he darted
out the door, which Frank in his hurry had left open, and started
toward the woods at a rate of speed that would have done credit to a
larger boy than himself. But Frank gained rapidly on him; and when he
reached the tree where the wild-cat had taken refuge, Archie was full
twenty rods behind. He found that the animals had not changed their
positions. The wild-cat was glaring fiercely down upon the dog as if
endeavoring to look him out of countenance; and Brave, seated on his
haunches, with his head turned on one side, and his tongue hanging out
of the side of his mouth, was steadily returning the gaze. Frank took
a favorable position at a little distance from the foot of the tree,
and cocking both barrels, so as to be ready for any emergency, in case
the first should not prove fatal, raised his gun to his shoulder, and
glancing along the clean, brown tube, covered one of the wild-cat's
eyes with the fatal sight, and pressed the trigger. There was a sharp
report, and the animal fell from his perch stone-dead. At this moment
Archie came up. After examining their prize to their satisfaction, the
boys commenced looking around through the bushes to find the clog
which had been detached from the trap. After some moments' search they
discovered it; and Archie unfastened the chain, and shouldering the ax
and guns, he started toward the house. Frank followed after, with the
wild-cat on his shoulder, the trap still hanging to his leg. The skin
was carefully taken off; and when Archie and Frank got home, they
stuffed it, and placed it as we now see it.