The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1894-01-18
LEAF FROM A TRAPPER'S LIFE.
Experiences of an Old Woodsman in the
Maine Woods.

woods trapper himself, when he'd
rather catch sight of his old log camp
in the wilderness than run up against
a 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 had 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 December.
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 it by three and get nearer the
truth. You have two camps, and if
they are fifteen miles apart it would be
nothing unusual. Leading from one of
these camps to the other you have two
lines of traps, one to the right, over
the hardwood mountains. where there
is good ground for the sable and fisher
cat, and the other to the left up a
brook and around small pond, where
the otter and beaver and mink work in
their various ways, and then up an
other brook valley to the camp.
EARLY in the morning you take your
AK and rifle, 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 expectation and calcula-
ton 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 following 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 a
fire, and prepare for getting supper
expecting to hear you stamping in be-
fore long. But things go differently
with you on the mountain line There
Is more snow up there than in the val
ley. 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 sable
here and a fisher there, which other
wise would have been your well-earned
trophy. Then fisher, fast in trap,
has dragged it away into the woods,
and it takes you good while to find
it. A 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 ahead 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. Some dis
lance ahead, off to the left, you see a
tree. That must be a blazed tree,
surely, you think. You scrape the snow
off of 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 to have to repeat the
proceeding, perhaps, before you can To-
cate the next one after that one on
JOul COuloC. all OlIlS JdhtS Ulne
and annihilates but little distance, and
almost before you are aware of it dark
ness begins to fall around. You have
lost the line altogether now You dom t
know whether it is to the right or to
the left of you, but you do know that
you are still long way from camp
You have a compass, but as you don t
i+'S Of 70
''By this time you have begun to
think that there is good chance for
your having to lie out on the mountain
that night. You slip your hands into
your pocket to make sure that your
match box is all safe and feel little
faint when you fail to find it, The
lkeliest explanation for its 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 always being sure
that you have everything that can pos
sibly be necessary on a tramp when
you leave camp.
"Your situation now can't be de-
scrihed as a pleasant one. The damp
snow through the day, together with
the perspiration due to your hard work.
ing, has wet your clothes 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 fleece, and you occasionally see
cold-loolling star up through them.
The mercury is liable to tumble down
to twenty-five or thirty degrees 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 sud-
denly you hear the distant report of a
rifle. No one who has ever been there
knows how sweet the report of rifle
can sound to his ears when plum cling
aimlessly about in the darkness, lost
in wintry woods, and what a change it
can make in his feelings on the in
slant. If you ever want to hear music
that is sweeter than the swell of the
grandest organ; let the report of rifle
come to your ears under circumstances
such as those. At first you find your