The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1900-03-21
HIS CLOSEST CALL.
AND AFTER ALL 1T TURNED TO BE NO
CALL AT ALL.

ok she OplnlOn Anat Anefe I'D AAVtn9
Difference Res~cea Being Killed
and Being Scared TO Deash.
The closest call / ever had, remarked
the reformed poacher, turned out to be
no call at all, but for time was sure
old Gabriel had his trumpet tuned up
for me, and, after all, there amt
mighty sight Of difference between get
ting killed and getting scared to death.
And that's about what. happened to me.
1t was In the early eighties, the Arst
winter trapped in Allegash waters.
and. although up to the LIST Of February
there wasn't six inches OF snow In the
woods, had salted down In my shack
the prettiest lot Of furs I've seen before
or since. And out Of 200 skins, some
thing like 20 were otter.
Funny thing, too. that run OF otter
took every one of them from short
line of traps set back of small stream
OF dead water. The other traps took
everything that came along. beaver.
fisher, mink and ermine, but these half
dozen, somehow or other, would spring
only on 10 the leg Of an otter. And
didn't kick bit, for the skins were
worth then just SIS apiece.
Well, come the 1st Of February and
about time for q big snowstorm, I got
uneasy, as trappers will; wanted some.
thing more exciting. I guess, and one
fine morning bundled my furs on to q
big sled and set out for Kineo. There
wasn't any snow to speak Of on the
river. and l made pretty good time up
Churchill lake and about dark reached
the thoroughfare into Eagle lake.
where built fire and got a bit Of
supper. 1t was a fine night, but a
little breezy. and n big circle around
the moon told me of snow, and lots OF
1t, not far away. So figured 'twould
De coed idea to get to the scttlemen.
about as soon as l could, and, packing
up again, set out down the lake.
The wind was at my back and just
boosted me along. but the sled travelled
faster and kept humping into my feet.
Says I to myself. Why don't you use
the wind? And did. Running ashore.
I cut stout pole and two crosspicces
and soon had first class sail set and
was flying down the middle of Eagle
lake, a-smoking my pipe as happy as
any old salt coming into port before q
fair wind. There wasn't anything for
me to do but steer clear of Pillsbury
islnnd-not q hard job--so l burrowed
under the furs and sort Of dozed or.
thinking Of the good times those otter
skins were going to bring me.
The wind kept rising, but the old
sled kept right along with it. That
didn't worry me any, however, for
there was no danger, and tue faster VIC
went the better liked 1t. Well. VIC
were drawing under the head Of tho
island when the sled struck a wrinkle
that sort Of Jared some life into me
and. rousing up. looked about to get
my bearings.
Gee whiz! Whnt saw drove all the
day dreams out Of me. Right ahead
not 1000 yards away. was stretch Of
black, open water reaching clear across
the lake. md the sled rushing right
into 1t rs fast as half n gale could drive
1t. Throwing myself forward on my
knees. grabbed the mast to unship 1t.
but had done too good job putting
1t up to be undone in q minute.
pulled and pushed with all my strengtli
but 1t wouldn't give an inch. Then
tackled the ropes that held the blanket.
but they were drawn so tight you
couldn't start them, although my nails
were torn of to the quick. And all this
time the sled was driving and swaying
along at race horse speed toward the
awful. black gulf. yawning ahead. l
could almost hear the waves breaking
along the Ice front. Every moment
expected to go through never to come
up.
"Cut the ropes" came to me, and
like a fash my hand sought my belt.
But the sheath was empty. had used
the knife to cut tobacco, and It was
somewhere beneath me among the
skins. Too late to hunt for 1t, too late
even to jump for safety, for at that
instant the white Ice ut my side faded
away into blackness, and throwing
myself forward on my face among my
precious otter skins I awaited tho fatal
plunge. 80 I.
How long lay there l don't know.
1t seemed hours, but 1t was only Sec
onds. I began to wonder if had real
iy gone to the bottom and never
knew 1t. If l was really drowned
why, l was not cold and wet and
strangling. Then came a sudden shock
"A crash and was hurled, more dead
than alive, from the sled.
For time knew nothing. | was
too near dead from fright to think.
Then ] mustered courage to look
around. No. I wasn't ut the bottom
of the lake or floating on the icy wa
ters, but I was lying mighty we'll
bruised and shaken up on the rocky
shores Of Pillsbury island.
1t wasn't open water after all-that
awful black space. 1t was simply
black Ice across the channel TINT had
formed after the other and since the
last fall Of snow. But it fooled me
terribly. And this is my closest call
no call Mt oil, you see. But I tell you
there is mighty little choice between
being killed and being scared to death.
Bangor Wh!g ard Courier.
Has His Advantages.
pf1q0n-Y dousk ho1jo~o <e,o~o to x>.,,ov.