the hunter in the haunts of wild animals, we have included
among our selections a number of hunting scenes in different
countries. The following incidents from a hunter's experience
are from a popular work of sporting life, Watson's "The
Sportsman's Paradise, or the Lake Land of Canada." The following
is an exciting story of a deer-hunt on a Canadian lake.]
The forenoon of the next day, October 7, was spent in trout-fishing,
grouse-shooting, and exploring the surrounding country. The captain
conducted me about half a mile up the side of a steep hill, which had
its base on Long Lake, to another lake situated at the top of this hill
or mountain. While I recognize the fact that all mountain lakes occupy
different planes or levels, some higher and some lower, still it seemed
very unusual to climb the face of a steep hill, commencing at one lake,
and find another just where you had expected to reach the hill-top.
This lake was nearly round, and probably somewhat less than one-half
mile in diameter. We saw during our morning peregrinations many old
moose-tracks, and also many spots in the woods where these animals had
browsed; while a few of these moose indications were certainly of recent
origin.
The captain thought it wise to tarry in our present camp several days,
to kill deer and dry the venison, in order that we might have a supply
of meat while engaged in moose-hunting, independent of that which we
might be able to kill during this period.
We had unanimously agreed that it was inexpedient to take dogs with us
on the moose-chase. In this particular our experience fully confirmed
the wisdom of our conclusion. The moose cannot be driven to water by
deer-hounds, or any other species of dog with which I am familiar; and,
therefore, had we taken these animals with us, they could only have
served to announce our presence to the game which we sought, without
being able to render any assistance. These facts will become more
apparent to the reader when he has read other portions of this book,
where the story of the moose-hunt has been told from beginning to end.
We are now entering on Nature's grandest preserve,--we find here the
"King of the Canadian Forest," alias moose, deer, beaver, black bear,
black wolf, speckled and lake trout, duck, ruffled grouse, etc. Here is
abundance of sport for the true sportsman. During the morning stroll we
saw several beaver-houses which were occupied, and examined a large
amount of their fresh work. These sights were highly interesting to me,
but inasmuch as they have been so frequently described by others I shall
omit them here.
It was already after twelve o'clock when we reached our camp. The
guides prepared our dinner, which was speedily partaken of, and then
we got off on a deer-hunt. The captain started into the woods with the
dogs. George Ross and I entered a canoe, the former paddling across the
lake to a point that commanded a view of a large portion of this water.
We then stepped on dry land, and there patiently awaited the coming
developments. We carefully scanned every visible portion of the lake. An
hour passed and still we were watching; soon a grand splash was heard
near the shore on the opposite side of the lake; the guide caught sight
of the water which was thrown high into the air, but the head of the
deer was scarcely visible to him while the animal was swimming towards
us. The deer, which at first swam directly towards us, soon changed his
course, and headed towards the foot of the lake. This change brought him
plainly into view. A few minutes later the dog was seen running from the
woods where the deer broke cover. The head and antlers of our game were
visible above the waters of the lake, while he was swimming majestically
without fear or even anxiety. We stood nearly half an hour watching the
movements of this deer, since we could not safely move lest we should be
discovered by the game and give him an opportunity to return to his
forest home.
[Illustration: THE CATSKILLS--SUNRISE FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN
FROM A STEEL PLATE]
The reader should remember that this animal took to the water from
the shore nearly opposite to the point on which we were standing, that
the deer swam almost directly towards us until he reached the middle
of the stream, then turned downward, which gave us, in due time, an
opportunity to come in unperceived behind him. Patiently we awaited this
opportune moment. When it arrived the canoe, which had been drawn up on
the shore near us, was quietly shoved out upon the water. Ross gently
stepped to the stern with his paddle in hand, steadied our little bark
while I entered its bow, where I seated myself and placed my rifle by my
right side. Ross carefully pushed the little craft from its moorings,
placed himself on his knees in that part of the canoe which properly
trimmed it, and silently plied his paddle.
The little canoe moved noiselessly but rapidly forward, every stroke of
the paddle bringing us nearer to the game. There was another paddle
lying near my hand; I seized it and gave a helping hand, greatly
increasing the speed. Forward, forward we went! We were unperceived,
although within ten rods of a beautiful buck, which was swimming in the
middle of the lake directly before us. My paddle was changed for my
rifle. Nearer, still nearer we approached. The rifle was raised; the
bead was drawn, just below the base of the animal's skull. We were six
rods distant from the deer. A little puff of white smoke covered the bow
of our boat; the crack of the rifle was heard, and the lifeless body of
the deer floated on the water, which was slightly tinged with blood.
Thus ended this chase. The carcass was towed to shore in front of our
camp, and the captain met us there, having returned from the woods,
where he had gone to start the dogs. The dog which followed the buck I
had just shot was also now in our camp, but the other was still absent.
Nearly two hours had elapsed since the buck was shot. There were now on
the shore, in front of our camp, the captain, George Ross, and myself,
while Mildenberger had gone back into the forest in search of ruffled
grouse. Suddenly the captain sprang from the rock on which he had been
seated, placed his right hand on his forehead in such a position as to
shade his eyes, while he leaned slightly forward and gazed steadily out
over the surface of the lake a few seconds without uttering a single
word. This position was one I had frequently seen him assume. I
therefore recognized the fact that he had sighted game, or was at least
swayed by this thought, and now endeavored to solve the question.
Thus he had stood for a few seconds, when he simply exclaimed, "_A deer
in the lake!_" and instantly sprang forward to the canoe. I had followed
him closely with rifle in hand, expecting to make the chase with him; he
quickly pushed the frail bark into the water and hastily said, "Doctor,
let George go with me in the canoe; it will be a hard chase; we will
drive the deer to you."
A few seconds later the canoe was in the water, the captain in the bow,
and George Ross in the stern, each on their knees with a paddle in their
hands. The little birch bark was rushing rapidly forward, propelled by
the power of four strong muscular arms. The sight was a grand one, and
called to mind the impetuous charge of a squadron of cavalry in war
times. The captain is most determined and energetic when in the pursuit
of game; like the grandest charger in the squadron, he is bound to take
the lead, while the others can only follow.
I had seated myself on a rock, soon after the departure of the guides,
to watch the deer, whose head was visible to me in my position, although
fully a mile away. I could not, however, at so great a distance
determine whether the animal possessed antlers or not; but the leisurely
manner in which it was swimming satisfied me its pursuers were
undiscovered until they had made at least three-fourths of the whole
distance. The animal, when first discovered, was nearly opposite to our
camp and within a few rods of the farther shore. The guides, in order to
succeed in the accomplishment of their purpose, were compelled to make a
considerable detour to the rear of the animal, and finally come up
between it and the shore. Fortunately for us, they had remained for a
considerable time undiscovered, and the animal, in the mean time, was
gradually leaving the shore while swimming down the lake.
The moment came, however, when the pursuers were discovered, and the
deer then made the most frantic efforts. I could see it spring forward
with all its power, raising its head high in the air with each grand
effort, but the guides are pulling stronger than before on their
paddles. They seem, when viewed from my position, to be only a few rods
in the rear of the animal, but the deer is heading for the shore, and
seems about ready to bound into the forest. It is now evident to me that
the chase can only last a few seconds.
I sprang from my seat; I recalled the fact that the guides had no gun in
the boat; I realized that if they had one they could now easily kill the
animal; they were almost on it. _An instant later and the canoe is seen
between the deer and the shore._ A loud shout is heard from the guides;
they wave their hats; they are victorious, and the disappointed deer now
turns and swims towards the middle of the lake. Its grandest effort has
been made; fatigue and disappointment slow down its movements.
It was now an easy task for the guides to direct the animal to any point
on the lake. The canoe was kept in the rear, and when it was brought
forward towards the right of the deer it would cause the animal to
oblique to the left, and _vice versa_. In this manner they proceeded to
cross the lake, bringing the doe in front of the rock on which I was
seated; but while she was still about six hundred yards away they called
on me to take a shot. I demurred against their request, inasmuch as the
portion of the animal now visible did not much exceed the dimensions of
a pint cup. The first ball fired fell short about fifty yards, and then
ricochetted nearly across the lake. Another shot was fired with no
better result, and thus I continued for several minutes, but not without
making some improvement. The shots were pronounced by the guides to be
accurate, so far as the line of the target was concerned, but the balls
still fell short of the mark.
The photographer, who was absent in the woods when I commenced firing,
now made his appearance, and, seizing the Winchester rifle, began to
compete with me. He was able to fire two shots with the repeater while I
could fire one from the breech-loading Ballard. The contest between us
was now very lively, and we succeeded in persuading the guides to bring
the game nearer to us, so that the animal was not more than one hundred
yards from the muzzles of our rifles. The bullets now fell in very close
proximity to the doe's head; none were more than four or five inches
from its centre. Six or eight shots have been fired with this degree of
accuracy, when I send in one that breaks the skin over the base of the
animal's skull. She dodges her head downward, but quickly brings it up
again, when a shot from Mildenberger ends this trial of skill. The
guides shout aloud and lustily cheer the photographer, who proudly puts
down his rifle and wipes the perspiration from his brow.
[The author proceeds to give a series of interesting accounts
of moose-hunts, somewhat too extended for the space we can give
him. We shall therefore close with an amusing incident, in which
"Jim," one of the guides, and his dog were the acting
characters.]
The clouds have begun to disappear, the bright rays of sunshine are now
lighting up our pathway, while the gentle zephyrs are moving the foliage
of the forest-trees. The prospects of a fine day's sport are brightening
at this moment. "Jim" exclaims, "We will have a good day of it yet!"
while at the same time a partridge rises at the roadside, an event which
is announced to us by the barking of the cocker-spaniel. This dog had
taken his position at the foot of a small tree, the branches of which
even overhung the roadway, and here continued to bark lustily, thus
keeping the attention of the bird until the lad sent up his compliments,
which she promptly acknowledged by tumbling to the ground.
The killing of this bird gave rise to a highly ludicrous scene, which I
fully appreciated at the time, and which I can never readily forget. Jim
had previously told me that the old cocker-spaniel had a very bad habit,
and would "mouth" the birds whenever he could get hold of them, while he
entirely disregarded the order to "bring dead bird." The owner of this
dog had, likewise, informed me that the animal had never received any
training, but naturally hunted very well, and was a good "treer." The
instant the lad fired at this bird, Jim sprang into the woods with the
alacrity of a hound, in order to grab the falling partridge before the
old cocker could get hold of him.
The cocker, however, succeeded in getting the best of Jim, grabbed the
bird in his mouth, and started off at full speed, while the guide
followed him on the jump, as a fox-hound might follow a hare, shouting,
with every bound, "Stop! stop! drop it! drop it!" until the woods became
fairly resonant with these sounds. A few seconds later the dog emerged
from the woods, still clinging to the bird, closely followed by the
irate guide, who still yelled as though his life depended on this
effort.
Here the old dog made the fatal mistake which finally cost him the prize
he had attempted to steal. He started down the road as rapidly as he
could run, but Jim steadily gained ground on him. Jim was wearing on
this occasion a pair of heavy leather brogans, which contained in the
soles about fifty steel spikes. These shoes, in fact, were procured by
him while he was engaged in that occupation commonly designated as
"river-driving," and these spikes were intended to nail him firmly to
the floating logs, and thus prevent accident or injury from slipping.
The road on which this race between the old cocker and our guide took
place was nearly a mass of rocks, generally flat on the upper surface,
which formed the road-bed, although they possessed many irregularities
of surface, size, etc. The moment the guide and dog emerged from the
woods and started off on this road, they were in full view of both my
son and myself. The sparks eliminated by the contact of the spikes in
Jim's brogans with the rocks in his pathway lighted up his trail, and
added greatly to the ludicrousness of the scene. The race may be fairly
said to have been nip and tuck, but the guide was slowly gaining on the
cocker.
They had run about ten rods when Jim's brogans were in close proximity
to the old dog's tail. It seemed highly probable at this moment that the
guide's spiked shoes would be used as a petard for the destruction of
the fugitive thief; but no, he has determined to capture him alive.
Behold them at this moment! Jim has dropped, with the intention of
seizing the old rascal with his hands. The old dog--as if anticipating
this movement--has suddenly jumped to one side, and instantly turned
to retrace his steps. Jim struck the ground with a heavy thud, but
was neither killed nor severely injured by this manoeuvre. The dog,
however, in the mean time, had been rapidly gaining on the guide, and
was well started on the homeward stretch. He occasionally turned his
head, in order to catch a glimpse of his pursuer, but he did not halt,
nor even slacken his pace.
Jim was soon on his feet again, but not until the dog had secured a good
start. The guide was maddened by failure, and resumed the race with a
fierce determination to win. Every second shortened the distance between
the contestants when Jim had fairly succeeded in getting under way.
The old dog seemed to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation,
and occasionally turned his head for the purpose of discovering
and estimating his danger. He had passed safely one-half of the
home-stretch, but was at this moment compelled to drop the bird from his
mouth. Jim was at this moment close upon the dog's heels, but he heeded
not the dead bird, and was evidently determined to punish the thief. The
old cocker showed at this time unmistakable signs of exhaustion and
fear, and was unquestionably repentant. Jim's brogans were once more at
the dog's caudal extremity, when he suddenly dodged aside and endeavored
to reach the cover of the woods; but he was too completely exhausted to
accomplish this object. He dropped to the ground and looked imploringly
into Jim's eyes for mercy; but Jim heeded not the imploring looks and
cringing attitude of the old rascal. He had him by the nape of the neck,
and promptly administered the well-merited punishment. The old dog
fairly yelled with pain, and Jim yelled back to him, "Steal the boy's
bird, will you? I will teach you honesty! I will, you old rascal!"
The whole scene had been watched by the boy and myself. The comical part
played by the actors can be more easily imagined than described. It
caused peal after peal of laughter from the boy and myself. The boy
finally dropped down upon the ground before the race ended, having been
so convulsed with laughter as to be unable to stand erect, while I only
remained standing until the race ended, and then followed my son's
example. Jim having administered the necessary chastisement to the dog,
likewise sought rest on the bosom of mother-earth, while the old cocker,
after having sulked a few moments in the woods, came sneakingly out and
cautiously approached the contestant in the race, licked affectionately
his hand, and then looked imploringly up into his eyes. The dog having
thus humbly acknowledged the justice of the punishment which had been
inflicted on him, was then freely forgiven by Jim, who patted him
affectionately on the head and back.
Thus there was perfect harmony between the guide and the spaniel. The
dog immediately reclined at Jim's side, placed his head affectionately
on his master, having assumed a position which enabled him to look
wistfully into the latter's face. Our little mongrel dog had not
remained entirely inactive during these exciting events. In the race he
participated, though falling far behind both actors; nevertheless he
barked and wagged his tail continuously, thus showing the joy and
interest which he felt in this part of the proceedings, although when
the chastisement commenced he drew his tail between his legs, suddenly
disappeared in the woods, and only reappeared after the lapse of an
hour.
[Shortly after they started again the boy brought down another
bird, whose presence had been announced by the cocker-spaniel.]
The old dog made no attempt on this occasion to secure the bird when it
fell to the ground, but, on the contrary, did not move from the spot
where he was standing, and allowed the guide to approach quietly the
dead bird and to pocket the same. In fact, it may be stated that we had
no further trouble with this dog during the remainder of the hunt. He
had previously shown much affection for Jim; but after the chase and the
chastisement which he received he was certainly doubly affectionate
towards his master. He had always hunted faithfully for us, but during
the balance of the day he seemed to be more than usually active, and
found many birds by the roadside.
THE GRAND FALLS OF LABRADOR.
HENRY G. BRYANT.
[The discovery of America has not yet been completed. Certainly
that of its Canadian section has not been. There are wide
districts of that great area on which human foot has never been
set, and as late as 1895 we were advised of the discovery of a
great river, with its head-waters near those of the Ottawa, but
previously unsuspected. Labrador has been but little traversed,
and the Grand Falls had only been seen by two white men
previously to Mr. Bryant's visit in the summer of 1891. What we
know of it, and of the course of the Grand, or Hamilton River,
we owe chiefly to him, since the only earlier account is the
imperfect one given by John McLean, describing his visit in
1839. The enterprise was not an easy one, as will appear from
the description of the hardships of the journey. The party
consisted of Mr. Bryant, of Philadelphia, Professor Kenaston, of
Washington, John Montague, a young Scotchman, and Geoffrey Ban,
an Eskimo, the last two hailing from Labrador. These four had to
drag a heavy boat against a swift current for many miles up the
stream, in the manner described below.]
The usual method employed was what is technically known as "tracking."
That is, a strong rope, about the thickness of a clothes-line, was tied
to the gunwale of the boat just aft of the bow. To the shore end of this
broad leather straps were attached. With these across their shoulders,
three of the party tugged away along the rocky bank, while number
four of our crew, with an oar lashed in the stern, steered a devious
course among the rocks and shallows of the river. The "tow-path"
in this instance was of the roughest and most diversified character.
Sandy terraces and extended reaches covered with glacial boulders
characterized the lower portion of the river, while farther up-stream
great numbers of smaller boulders, insecurely lodged on the precipitous
sandy banks, would baffle us by the precarious footing they afforded.
Where a combination of this "rubble" and a troublesome rapid occurred,
it was only by the most violent exertion and no end of slipping and
sliding that the tension of the tow-line could be maintained on the
treacherous ground. Then, again, stretches of steep rocky bank, where no
tracking was possible, would often compel us to scale the rugged cliffs
and pass the line from one to another over various obstacles. Wading
through the water was frequently the only resource. This was always the
case when we reached a place in the river where the spring freshets had
undermined the banks, and where numbers of trees, stumps, and underbrush
littered the shore, forming _chevaux-de-frise_ of the most formidable
character.
The long daylight of midsummer in this subarctic region was a point in
our favor, enabling us to work to the limit of our strength. Here,
indeed, we found that "Night and day hold each other's hands upon the
hill-tops.... No sooner does the sun set north by west, than, like a
giant refreshed, it rises again north by east."
[At times they had to drag the boat up rapids, at times to
unload and transport it and its contents around falls by
difficult portages. Through much of the course the stream ran at
about eight miles an hour, but many rapids added to this speed.]
Judged by ordinary standards of travel, our advance up the river was
slow indeed; but to those who are familiar with canoe transportation on
Canadian rivers, I am sure our progress will appear respectable, when
the unwieldy character of our boat is taken into consideration. There
seems to be something positively personal and vindictive in the
resistance which rapids make to a traveller's advance into a wild and
mountainous country. There was, accordingly, a cumulative feeling of
satisfaction as one after another of these barriers of nature's making
were surmounted. In the swollen condition of the river, the struggle
with these wild rapids was often as savage and exhilarating as one could
desire. John and myself usually took the lead on the tow-line, Geoffrey
busying himself with keeping the line clear of snags, while to Professor
Kenaston was assigned the steersman's part. Bending to their work, the
linemen would clamber along the bank, dragging the slowly yielding mass
up-stream. Ofttimes the force of the current would carry out the boat
far into mid-stream, until the full length of line would be exhausted.
We could do nothing then but hang on like grim death and watch our craft
toss and roll amid the billows, until, like a spirited horse, gradually
yielding to the strain, she would turn her head shoreward. Professor
Kenaston, meanwhile, with tense muscles, bending to the steering-oar,
skilfully guided his charge amid the encompassing rocks and eddies,--the
only quiet figure on the surging flood of the river....