Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1900-03-17
OLD IRONHlDE DEAD.
Maine's ArmorpIated Deer Meets an
Ignominious Death.
Iona Deiied Bullets and Traps -Succumbs
Finally 10 an Axe.

of an axe in the hands of a French
man, so the story goes as it is told
at the State House. Ironhide was in
a bear trap or he would still be en-
Toying his old free life. His skin is
nailed up in a Surry blacksmith shop
while his magnificent head is awaiting
its turn in the establishment of Ban
gor taxidermist bearing the tag of a
Philadelphia sportsman.
Old Ironhde was famous for his i'm
mense size and beautiful antlers, but
more especially on account of his
seeming invulnerbilty to anything In
the shape of lead backed by powder
There have been recorded no fewer than
so fair shots at him, but as far as Is
known. blood was nver drawn from
him until Peter Preos axe struck him.
Lead enough had been wasted upon
him to supply a South American reVo-
luton.
1t is not known exactly where Iron
hide grew to maturity, but it was all
Of five years ago when he made his de-
but in that region, appearing In the
last days of August in the garden patch
Of Erastus Libby, who lives on the
shore of Patterns pond in Surry. He
trampled down the grain, broke over
all the corn, nbbled at the cabbages.
cleaned out the celery and knocked off
all the choice apples by rubbing his
body against the trees. Libby did not
dare to shoot him, for gamewarden
lived on the next farm, so he set Bun
10 on him. Bunjo was the best coon
dog in Surry. The deer came down
upon him with all four feet. Bunjo
went under the barn and did not come
out again that fall. Libby gritted his
teeth and swore that the midnight
chimes which marked the dying hour
of close-time would be the death-knell
of that deer. but about two days before
that time the big buck emigrated over
toward Teddy pond.
Increase Ireland was looking for
ducks on the upper end of Teddy Pond,
in that year, when he saw a curious
sight. 1t was big buck deer wallow-
ing and rolling in The Honey Pot"
The southeastern part of Hancock
county abounds in disintegrated rock,
a peculiar mineral formation origin
ally in the shape of big boulders, but
when exposed, as by the clearing of
forests, gradually crumbling to pow
der. Thus it is that farmer securing
what appears to be a fine, solid boulder
for his stone wall, finds, in a year or
two, that his wall is in need of repairs.
The Honey Pot was originally the
site of big boulder of this formation.
Many rises and falls of the spring ice
had uncovered it to the action of the
sun and rain and it had dissolved,
forming with the sticky, heavy clay of
the marsh bottom a peculiar mortar
like substance known as honey. This
substance when taken from beneath
the surface of the water will dry in a
short time and form an almost ada
mantine covering. 1t might be put to
practical use We're it not almost i'm
possible to get at the deposit, so far
removed is it from a road
1t was in this mineral bog that Ire
land saw the big buck. The hunter
had nothing but a fowling piece and so
contented himself with watching the
creature. The deer seemed to be en-
joying himself, but working with
purpose to get himself as thoroughly
covered az possible. Ireland left him
standing upon the shore drying him
self in the sun. The next day he took
his rifle and padded up to the Honey
Pot. The deer was there but loped off
leisurely. Ireland is no mean shot and
reCkOns that he had a perfect bead on
the muddy buck, but he must have
missed, for the deer kept right on, up
over the hill. The deer was seen and
fired at by several other men, that
same season, but no one started hair.
All reported that the deer was still
covered with mud and before the end
of the season half the hunters in the
region were after the muddy buck.
The next season he was seen only
once. Three years ago. he was again
in his old haunts around the Honey
Pot at the first of the season. J. G..
DiIlaway and Austin Cabot, business
men from Boston and all round hunt
ers. were at Craige's pond, hidden by
the side of the famous runway between
the hills and waiting for their guides
to drive in some deer. They heard
slight rustic above them and there
standing clearly outlined against the
sky. was a magnificent buck. The men
are good shots and the range was not
more than 600 yards. They fired stimuli
taneously. The buck started. looked
around as if to see where the noise
came from. and then bounded away
just as two fine, fat does that had
come down the runway, turned tail and
scurried. The hunters We're dumb
founded and when Bill Enslow, the
guide. came back, they told him about
their bad shots.
"Wuz that ere deer all kinder mud
dy like?" he asked.
Cabot was quite sure that there was
something off-color about the deer's
coat
That wus or Ironhide," said the
guide. you couldn't kill him unless ye
chucked dynamite down his throat.
Wy that buck has cost the hunters of
this kentry nigh nigh on to $500 in am
milton. Can't no one shoot i'm. He's
got charmed life. Ironhide' has"
There are no better shots in Maine
than Ben Barstow and Bill Applebee
of Dedham, and there never were two
more surprised hunters than they on
one November morning. two years ago.
They were camping on the shore Of Hat
Case pond. Ben was getting breakfast
and Jim. who had gone down to the
shore for water came stealing back
and reached for his rifle. Ben needed
no better hint and the two stealthily
crept down the shore path. Jim
Crouched behind a big boulder and eau