The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-09-10
HERMIT HUNTER
Of THE WALLOON
Ancient Adirondack For
ester Tells Life Story.
DESPISES THE GAME LAWS
sells Venison to Trusted Friends in
and Out Of Sea-
son.

son.
WALLOON POND. y. Y. Sept. 10
/ Old BIZ Mecrs hunts deer in tbesa
Adirondack wilds. and they cant punish
MIN at all-can't even catch him AZ his
tricks, no matter how many game war
dens sniff and poke and pry around
among his belongings in this neck o.
woods. He's a fox
4 Its privilege TO know old Bill. even
Though he has been a habituaI. persist
ent game law breaker during many
years. The game laws OF the state o.
/ New York mean about as much &c him
as the Code OF HammurabI
/ Then laws amt natchrI" he SAYS.
] "Ruie o nature is thet a man kin kill
all tn critters he needs to keep him
self alive. Thet's CONN sense. amt it,
Wen. b'jocksl that's all I do.
An summer long Bill kills venison
enough TO keep him supplied with food
and ammunition.
/ The elect we who know old Bill.
[ carefully selected friends whom he can
/ trust. have been feasting on venison-
at cents pound,-since early in July.
although the wise law makes it crime
for any one to shoot deer, or eat veni-
son or have it in his possession earlier
than the 1st day OF September. Last
night. very late. the game wardens were
/ Tummaging around our camp. trying to
/ find some trace of venison- They tip
toed into the big ice house and prodded
among the ice blocks with long, sharp
rods. and turned over the sawdust. and
HOsed around in all sorts OF likely and
Z unlikely places for the forbidden deli
/ Cacy. The fine for having veuisOn now
is 500, and the infOrmer gets half. We
could hear them.
Searchers Disappointed.
Scratch, scratch. scratch, came from
the ice house Then n thin voice whis-
pered: Beats all how them city fellers
kin hide It. I was sure I seen old Bill
fetchin' a passed. o. deer meat in here,
long bout dusk" The weary wardens
pered cuss-words, while we relapsed
into the sleep of the uncaught. which is
very like the sleep Of the just
We padded over to old BilTs camp
late this afternoon. 1t is useless to
call on him early. for he sleeps all day
because he is out hunting al night.
His home rests on the ponds edge,
little tent of gray canvas, eight feet
by twelve. with a pitched roof Of clap
boards, the whole fiimsy structure
Derched on a floating foundation of
Big logs hoored over with rough pine
pIanks. The sun was setting, and the
hermit's camp was hardly visible
furlong away, buried as II was "a SOL
masses Of shadow cast d. ghOsIly
birChes and thick, dark groves OF spruce
and hemlock.
setting sun on bacon and hominy and a
pickerel which he had just pulled out OF
WallOOn Pond An early katydid near
at hand was singing Of approaching
Il Keep an orchester with my table
dotv Just like you fellers has daowu
L New York" he said waving his
scraggy brown hand vaguely toward
the katydid.
In Class by Himself.
The old man would attract attention
anywhere Even in this region Of lum-
bermen, trappers, and guides, big,
hearty, rough fellows who live in ana
by the forests. he stands in a class by
himself II he is an outlaw IL is from
pure love Of the fun Of beating the
game One who knows the woods and
lakes as well as he could command his
own price for guiding rich men.
''Shucksi" he says. What's tn use
o. workin' fer some fussy rich Teller
that kin hardly climb out'n a boat
'thout bein' helped Wen I en- earn my
keep so easy, doin' little huntin' on
my own account
Meers stands an inch more than six
feet in his moccasins- He is lean wiry
and tanned. Like Misunderstanding g, too,
weather-wOrn that one cannot tell
whether he is fifty years old or sixty OF
seventy. He fought in the Mexican
war. so probably he cannot be much
less than eighty years old. yet he has
out-rowed. out-paddled and Out-walked
all the college athletes he has admitted
to his friendship and company. His
long, struggling black beard and curly
hair are only splashed with gray. HIS
weather-bea gray bUtternut suit Is
topped of by-think Of tia black derby
hat Of Broadway make and the crop OF
1908
Amt much foolishness rbaout me"
gruous head-piece. but I do like a eood
hat Ye en- aIlus tell a good MAJ by
his hat so the best they is is plenty
good 'nOugh fer me-"
why do YOU kill deer Out of season.
Mr.. Meers, and take chances Of being
sent to PRISON. Tom Dunning boldly
asked him
Liked His Nerve.
SAY" old Bill replied. young man
like your nerve. You're the fust hui
man tibet ever asst me tibet question
right aOut plump an plain. an b'jOcksi
you're entitled TO an answer. Naow.
I'll tell We. L ben Twin in these woods,
one place n rOther. sence I wuz a boy.
exceptin' wen ] ut fer our country.
y cars beAoAt YOU WIZ porn. L We Illus
lived by huntin' n fishin' n trappin'.
don't know no other trade.
Il won't low myself TO be tied daown
10 no rich city felIer bossin' me iraouud.
so Jest natchrlly kill venisOn an sell
II TO folks thet'u pay me fer it
Game lawS2 Oh. thet's tridin' fool
4 ishness some o them feIlers daOwn I
Albany has put up TO bother US up here
in the woods I don't pay any 'tention
TO en- N whut's more, they ain's
ketched me in ten years, though they
ben pokin' an dOdgin' an sneaSin' after
me, day an night"
The old man seems to be safe for
ever from the law. All the lovers OF
venison In this neighDOrhOod know him
well, but the popular spirit that shield
ed Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest pro
tects old BIZ Meers in this wilderness.
No one has ever seen him with car
Cass of venison in his possession in the
close season; vet on any day you choose
20 name he will whistle back TO your
camp, drop a haunch or saddle Of veni-
son wrapped in brown paper. and scurry
away.
Half an hour later the old man VIII
saunter up carelessly. tell you how 20
cook tibet there piece o. lamb"-and
collect his cents pound for IL