The Wichita daily eagle., 1894-01-20
LEAF FROM A rRAppER.s LIFE.
Experiences Of an Old Woodsman in the
Maine Woods.

Barker, who is an old-time Maine
woods trapper himself, 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 had ever tried
trapping in the Maine woods in the
depth of winter you would know what
/ mean. For the sake of an illustra tion
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 il
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 sd BILE 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 youi
ak and rifle, your bag of bait and
lunch, and follow the noun tain 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-
tion is that you are to meet each other
at the camp before dark. You go ur
into the mountains. It begins to snow
about 10 o'clock. Your partner has nc
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
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
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
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 a 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.
tance 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 10
cate the next one after that one on
your course. All this takes much time
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 don't
know whether it is to the right or tc
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
know your course, it's of no use to you.
by this time you have begun to
think that there is good chance fo,
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
likeliest 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 tramp when
you leave camp.
''Your situation now can't be de-
scribed 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
apon you, and it hurts, for it is frozen
The fast-scudding clouds look white
and feecy, and you occasionally see
:old-looking 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
rife. No one who has ever been there
knows how sweet the report of a rifle
can sound to his ears when pluIging
aimlessly about in the darkness, lost
in wintry woods, and what change il
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 rife
come to your ears under circumstances
such as those. At first you find your
self rushing in the direction from
which the sound came. Then you stop
suddenly. The awful thought comes
over you that il was not rife shot
you heard. that you only imagined il
to be one: that your nerves are forsak-
ing you: that you are losing your own
senses under the strain. Then there
IS what seems an age OF torture, but II
il really ONLY a moment Then vou