Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1894-01-04
PIPPINS AND PORK.

The Wallen-Paupack river runs through
wild but beautiful valley of Pennsylvania
and New Jersey, and it Is often skirted by
dense swamps, and where the big hem
locks, birch and oak trees still stand Bruin
finds his congenial haunts and plays wild
havoc among the some time fertile farms of
the Paupack valley, carrying away young
calves, but occasionally loses his life by
reason of being too fond of climbing apple
trees.
Marcus Killam is a logger" and farm
er and has 1000 acres under cultivation in
Palmyra township. Marcus was Is years
old on the 4th day Of July. He goes to
church at the Paupack Valley Methodist
meeting house on the Wallen-P aupack riv-
er once every Sunday, dressed in gray pam
falcons, big boots and blue cutaway coat
with brass buttons, and standing feet
In his stocking feet looks like sturdy
English gentleman yeomen of the olden
time. Marcus loves the hocks and herds,
and he entertains deadly hatred for bears.
1t was over fortnight ago that he found
pig missing whose dying squeal had not
aroused the honest old farmer from his
sleep of the just, and, what enraged him
most, a favorite apple tree was scratched
up and down the trunk, the limbs were
broken, and the tree was absolutely de-
nuded Of apples. Bears had been there, old
Marcus we'll knew. Summoning his neph-
ew, Volney Bennett, lad only 16, but
ready to shoot anything from woodpecker
to white Rocky mountain goat, he put
the boy on the trail to diagnose the situa-
ton.
Young Bennett sought the neighboring
village on the Wallen-P aupack river, and
there found three travel stained hunters
who had trailed the pig stealing bear all the
way from within three miles of Bingham
ton, N. Y, across the river and in among
the big hemlocks and oaks of Palmyra
township. The New York sportsmen were
down in the mouth because after tramp
of 10 miles they had lost traces of the bear.
Young Volney was cute enough while
pumping" the foreign bear hunters not to
say anything about old Ephraim's fondness
for raw apples and his Uncle Killam's I'M
cooked shoats.
There was an 'early to supper" and an
''early to bed" atthe Killam farmhouse that
night, and long before the break of day hot
breakfast of fried trout, fapjacks and wild
honey and buttermilk antedated the hunt.
er's departure in search of bear meat A cas-
ual glance at the pigpen revealed the blood of
another lost pig year old, bodily lifted by
Bruin over the palings Of the pig pen. An
other apple tree stripped. Then old Marcus
breathed flrebrands and death against that
particular black bear. Marcus had old
Betsy, a rife with which he had brought
down bounding buck in the Paupack val
Law, CT
Young Bennett had double barreled shot
tracked that bear through the hemlock
swamps and through the laurel and wild
blackberry bushes.
Night came on, and the old farmer asked
his nephew If he could stand night in the
woods. Sure" said the boy, and produc-
ing a box of matches and fish line be
handed the matches to old man Killam,
and with the trout line sought trout
stream emptying into the river, and every
hole in that stream knew him and lie
knew it.
Farmer Killam soon had the fire ready,
but not too soon, for Volney returned in
half an hour with dozen beautiful trout,
which wrapped in moist newspaper, after
being washed and cleaned, made supper
fit for the gods on high Olympus, and the
old man produced flask of generous size
from the side pocket of his hunting coat,
but whether it contained buttermilk or the
spirit Of "Oh, be joyful" young Volney did
not disclose. The hunters had tramped 10
miles in hot August day, and they slept
without dreaming, and only Gabriels final
''horn" or catamount's yell could have
broken their slumbers.
A council Of war was held at o'clock in
the morning, and Farmer Killam decided
that the bear would try another pig that
morning, as he had swallowed undisturbed
the best yearlings in the pen already. Water
was brought up in the now empty flask
and the woods fire extinguished, for every
walk was made for the apple orchard, and
just as the bridegroom of the morning left
his kisses of purple and gold on the edge
Of fossy eastern cloud the anxious hunt
ers reached the dense oak woods fringing
the apple orchard on the west side.
Farmer Killam, who has an eye like
falcons and doesn't wear glasses for all
he is Is, peered out behind big oak tree.
my God" he said-and he is good
Methodist for breath. MY God,
there's old Ephraim a-ruinin my pippin
apple tree?"
The wind was right and the bear was full
Of fresh pork and unconscious of danger.
He munched apples while the stealthy
hunters sought coign Of vantage in
fence corner. By the din and misty light
Killam drew bead with his trusty Betsy
ON the too con6ding Bruin.
The rife ball went home and down drop.
ped 800 pound bear. Both hunters ran to
the bleeding bear, and as Killam, flushed