The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1893-11-28
LEAF FROM A TRAPPER's LIFE.
Experiences of an Old Woodsman in the
Maine Woods.

is an old time Maine woods trapper HIM
self, when he'd rather catch sight of his
old log camp in the wilderness than run
up against gold mine, for the camp at
such times can do for him what all the
gold mines on the face Of the earth
couldn't do-save his life. If you ever
tried trapping in the Maine woods in the
depth of winter you would know what
mean. For the sake of an illustration,
just imagine yourself trapping there, say
along in the month of Decem Der
There is foot of snow on the ground.
1t doesn't require much Imagination to
see foot of snow on the ground in the
Maine woods in December. You might
multiply itsby three and get nearer the
truth. You have two camps, and if they
are Is miles apart it will be nothing
unusual. Leading from one Of these
camps to the other you have two lines of
traps, one to the right, over the hard
wood mountains, where there is good
ground for the sable and fshercat, and
the other to the left, up brook and
around "a small pond, were the otter and
beaver and mink work in their various
ways. and then up another brook valley
20 the camp.
Early in the morning you take your
ak and rife, your bag of bait and lunch,
and follow the mountain line of traps,
while your partner takes the valley line,
or vice versa, as the case may be, but
the result will be the same. The expec.
tation and calculation is that you are to
meet each other at the camp before
dark. You go up into the mountains
1t begins to snow about 10 O'Clock.
Your partner has no difficulty in follow
ing the valley line, for the creek shows
the way. and he will get to camp before
dark, cut the wood for the night, get
it in, build fire, and prepare for get
ting. supper expecting to hear you stamp
ing in before long. But things go differ
entity with you on the mountain line.
There is more snow up there than in the
valley. The travelling is hard. The
traps need good deal of setting over
and fixing, for the wildcats have been
busy along the line, robbing you OF a
sable here and "a fisher. there, which
earned trophy. Then fisher, fast in a
rap, has dragged it away into the woods,
md it takes you good while to find ii.
4 light wind drives the fast falling
damp snow against the trunks of the
trees and it sticks there, SO that in a
couple of hours or SO you can't see the
blaze marks on them until you have
brushed off the snow.
By and by you find a blazed tree,
and then look ah cad and try to make up
your mind which tree the next blaze is
on. You pick out tree that you think
is the one and brush off the snow. No
blaze there. Then you go on to another
tree, perhaps off to the right, and brush
again. No blaze there. Some distance
ahead, off to the left, you see tree
That must be blazed tree, surely, you
think. You scrape the snow off that tree.
No blaze there. And then you go on,
hunting here and there for the next
blazed tree, until at last you find it, only
3 to have to repeat the proceeding, per-
haps, before you locate the next one alter
that one on your course. All this takes
much time and annihilates but little dis
atance, and almost before you are aware
of it darkness begins to fall around you.
You have lost the line altogether, now.
You don't know whether it is tos the
right or. to the left of you, but you do
know that you are still a long way from
camp. You have compass, but as you
don't know your course it is of no use
to YOU.
By this time you have begun to think
that there is a good chance for your hav-
ing to lie out on the mountain that
night. You slip your hands into your
pocket to make sure that your matchbox
is all safe, and feel little faint when
you fail to findsit. The likeliest explain
alton for it's absence is that it slid out of
your pocket while you were sleeping in
your bunk last night. Never before
have you realized the Importance of all
ways being sure that you have everything
that can possibly be necessary on tramp
when you leave camp.
Your situation now can't be described
as q pleasant one. The damp snow
through the day, together with the per-
wet your clothing through and through.
By and by it stops showing. The wind
has shifted around into the northwest
and is blowing gale. The snow comes
piling down from the trees upon you,
and it hurts, for it is frozen. The fast
scudding clouds look white and fleecy,
and you occasionally see a cold-looking
star up through them. The mercury IS
liable to tumble down to rs degrees or 30
de grees below zero before morning. 1t
is madness to think of lying out, you
must get to camp or die. You are
struggling on through the snow and
night, fully conscious of the peril of your
situation, when suddenly you hear the
distant report of rifle. No one who
has ever been there knows how, sweet
the report of a rifle can sound to his ears
when plunging aimiessly about in the
darkness, lost in wintfy woods, and what
a change it can make in his feelings on
the instant If you ever want to hear
music that is sweeter than the swell of
the grandest organ, let the report of
rife come to your ears under circum
stances such as those AT first you find
yourself rushing in the direction from
which the sound came. Then you stop
suddenly The awful thought comes
over you that it was not rifle shot you
heard; that you only imagine it to be
one; that your nerves are forsaking you;
that you are losing your senses under
the strain. Then there is what seems an
age of torture, but it is really only
moment. Then you hear the report
again. This time you no longer doubt
your ears or your senses. 1t is your
partner. uneasy at your hardness, and
tearing its cause, signalling in hope that
you will hear. You answer with shot
and stride on for camp, knowing that
you are saved
BY and by you come out in sight of
the camp Bright sparks are shooting
up IN showers out of the smoke-hole
It is but rough, rude log hut but no
illuminated palace of kings could
awaken such jOy within vo,p branet oc