University of Virginia Library

13. CHAPTER XIII.

“Hurra! the stragglers have arrived!” exclaimed Codman,
the first to notice the hunter and Claud as they shot into the
mouth of the small, quiet river, on whose bank was busily progressing
the work of the incipient encampment. “Hurra for
the arrival of the good ship Brag, Phillips, master; but where
is his black duck, with a big trout to its foot? Ah, ha! not
forthcoming, hey? Kuk-kuk-ke-oh-o!”

“Don't crow till you see what I have got, Mr. Trapper,”
replied the hunter, running in his canoe by the sides of those
of his companions on shore. “Don't crow yet, — especially
over the failure of what I didn't undertake: you or Mr. Carvil
was to furnish the big trout, you will recollect.”

“That has been attended to by me, to the satisfaction of
the company, I rather think,” remarked Carvil, now advancing
towards the bank with the rest. “Not only one big trout, but
two more with it, was drawn in by my method, on the way.”

“O, accident, accident!” waggishly rejoined the trapper;
“they were hooked by mere accident. The fact is, the trouts

are so thick in these lakes that a hook and line can't be drawn
such a distance through them without getting into some of
their mouths. But, allowing it otherwise, it don't cure but half
of your case, Mr. Hunter. Where is the black duck?”

“Here is the black duck,” responded the hunter, stepping
ashore and drawing his cub out from under some screening
boughs in the bow of the boat.

A lively shout of laughter burst from the lips of the company
at the disclosure, showing alike their amusement at the
practical way in which the hunter had turned the jokes of the
teasing trapper, and their agreeable surprise at his luck in the
uncertain hunting cruise along the shores, on which they, without
any expectation of his success, had banteringly dispatched
him. “Ah, I think you may as well give up beat, all round,
Mr. Codman,” observed Mark Elwood, after the surprise and
laughter had subsided. “But come up here, neighbor Phillips,
and see what a nice place we are going to have for our camp.”

Leaving the game in charge of Claud and Carvil, who
volunteered to dress it, the rest of the company walked up
with the hunter to the spot where the new shanty was in progress,
wishing to hear his opinion of the location selected, and
the plan on which it had been commenced.

The location to which the company had been guided by the
trapper was a level space, about ten rods back from the stream
here falling into the lake from the east, and at the foot of a
rocky acclivity forming a portion of the southern side of a high
ridge that ran down to the lake. The first ten feet of the rise
was formed by the smooth, even face of a perpendicular rock,
which from the narrow shelf at the top fell off into a less precipitous
ascent, extending up as far as the eye could reach
among the stunted evergreens and other low bushes that partially
covered it. About a dozen feet in front of this abutting
rock, equidistant from it, and some fifteen feet apart, stood
two spruce trees, six or eight inches in diameter at the bottom,
but tall, and tapering towards the top. These, the company,

who had reached the place about two hours before, had contrived,
by rolling up some old logs to stand on, to cut off, and
fell, six or seven feet from the ground; so that the tall stumps
might serve for the two front posts of the proposed structure.
And, having trimmed out the tops of the two fallen trees, and
cut them into the required lengths, they had laid them from
the top of the rock to the tops of the stumps, which had been
first grooved out, so as to receive and securely fasten the ends
of the timbers. These, with the stout poles which they had
then cut and laid on transversely, at short intervals, made a
substantial framework for the roof of the shantee. And, in
addition to this, rows of side and front posts had been cut,
sharpened, driven into the ground at the bottom, and securely
fastened at the top to the two rafters at the sides and the
principal beam, which had been notched into them at the lower
ends to serve for the front plate.

“Just the spot,” said the hunter, after running his eye over
and around the locality a moment, and then going up and inspecting
the structure in progress. “I thought Codman could
not miss so remarkable a place. I have been thinking of
building a camp here for several years; but it never seemed to
come just right till this fall. Why, you all must have worked
like beavers to get along with the job so well, and to do it so
thoroughly. The bones of the thing are all now up, as far as
I can see, and made strong enough to withstand all the snows
and blows of half a dozen winters. So, now, nothing remains
but to put on the bark covering.”

“But how are we to get the bark covering?” asked Gaut
Gurley. “Bark will not peel well at this season, will it?”

“No, not very well, I suppose,” replied the former. “But
I will see what I can do towards hunting up the material,
to-morrow. A coat of these spruce boughs, spread over this
framework above, and set up here against the sides, will
answer for to-night. And this rigging up, gathering hemlock
boughs for our beds, building a good fire here in front, and

cooking the supper, are all we had better think of attempting
this evening; and, as it is now about sunset, let us divide off
the labor, and go at it.”

The encampment of these adventurous woodsmen presented,
for the next hour, a stirring and animated scene. The different
duties to be performed having been apportioned by mutual
agreement among the company, they proceeded with cheerful
alacrity to the performance of their respective tasks. Phillips
and Carvil set busily to work in covering, inclosing, and rigging
up the camp, — to adopt the woodsman's use of that word, as we
notify the critic we shall do, as often as we please, albeit that
use, contrary to Noah Webster, indicates the structure in which
men lodge in the woods, rather than the place or company
encamping. Mark Elwood, Gaut Gurley, and the young
Indian Tomah, proceeding to a neighboring windfall of different
kinds of wood, went to work in cutting and drawing up a supply
of fuel, among which, the accustomed backlog, forestick,
and intermediate kindling-wood, being adjusted before the
entrance of the camp, the fire from the smitten steel and preserving
punkwood was soon crackling and throwing around its
ruddy glow, as it more and more successfully competed with
the waning light of the departing day. Claud and Codman, in
fulfilment of their part of the business on hand, then unpacked
the light frying-pans, laid in them the customary slices of fat
salted pork, and shortly had them sharply hissing over the fire,
preparatory to receiving respectively their allotted quotas of
the tender and nutritious bearsteaks, or the broad layers of the
rich, red-meated trout.

In a short time the plentiful contents of the pans were
thoroughly cooked, the pans taken from the fires, the potatoes
raked from the glowing embers, in which they had been roasting
under the forestick, the brown bread and condiments brought
forward, and all placed upon the even face of a broad, thin sheet
of cleft rock, which they had luckily found in the adjacent ledge,
and brought forward and elevated on blocks within the camp, to

serve, as it well did, for their sylvan table. Gathering round
this, they proceeded to help themselves, with their camp knives
and rude trenchers, split from blocks of the freely-cleaving basswood,
to such kinds and portions of the savory viands, smoking
so invitingly in the pans before them, as their inclinations severally
prompted. Having done this, they drew back to seats on
broad chips, blocks of wood, piles of boughs, or other objects
nearest at hand, and began upon their long anticipated meal
with a gusto which made them for a while too busy for conversation,
other than an occasional brief remark on the quality of
the food, or some jocose allusion to the adventures of the day.
After they had finished their repast, however, and cleared away
the relics of the supper, together with the few utensils they had
used in cooking and eating it, they replenished their fire; and,
while the cheerful light of its fagot-fed blaze was flashing up
against the dark forest around, and shooting away through the
openings of the foliage in long glimmering lines over the waters
below, they all placed themselves at their ease, — some sitting on
blocks, some leaning against the posts, and some reclining on
piles of boughs, — and commenced the social confab, or that general
conversation, in which woodsmen, if they ever do, are prone
to indulge after the fatigues of the day are over, and the consequent
demands of appetite have been appeased by a satisfactory
meal.

“Now, gentlemen, I will make a proposition,” said Mark
Elwood, in a pause of the conversation, which, though it had
had been engaged in with considerable spirit, yet now began to
flag. “I will propose, as we have an hour or two on hand, to
be spent somehow, before we shall think of rolling ourselves up
in our blankets for the night, — I propose that you professional
hunters, like Phillips, Codman, and Carvil, here, each give us a
story of one of your most remarkable adventures in the woods.
It would not only while away the hour pleasantly for us all, but
might furnish useful information and timely hints for us beginners
in this new life, upon which we are about to enter. For my

part, I should like to listen to a story, by these old witnesses, of
the strange things they must have encountered in the woods.
What say you, Gurley, Claud, and Tomah? Shall we put
them on the stand?”

“Yes, a good idea,” replied Gaut, his habitual cold reserve
relaxing into something like cordiality; “I feel just in the
humor to listen, — more so than to talk, on this hearty supper.
Yes, by all means let us have the stories.”

“O, I should be exceedingly gratified,” joined in Claud, in
his usual frank and animated manner.

“I like that, too; like to hear hunting story, always, much,”
added Tomah, with a glistening eye.

“Well, no particular objection as far as I am concerned,”
responded the trapper, seriously; but adding, with his old waggish
gleam of the eye: “that is, if you will take what I give,
and swallow it as easily as you did Phillips' fish story. But let
Carvil, who must be the youngest, go on with his story first; I
will follow; and Phillips shall bring up the rear.”

Carvil, after making a few excuses that were not suffered to
avail him, commenced his narration, which we will head

THE AMATEUR WOODSMAN'S STORY.

“I call myself a woodsman, and a pretty good one, now; but,
four years ago, I was almost any thing else but one of any kind.
I should have then thought it would have certainly been the
death of me to have lain out one night in the woods. And I
had no more idea of ever becoming a hunter or trapper, to remain
out, as I have since done, for weeks and months in the
depths of the wilderness, with no other protection than my rifle,
and no other shelter than what I could fix up with my hatchet
for the night, where I happened to be, on the approach of
darkness, than I now have of undertaking to swim the Atlantic.
And, as the circumstances which led to this revolution in my
opinions and habits, when out of the woods, may as much interest
you, in the account, as any thing that happened to me

after I got into them, I will first briefly tell you how I came
to be a woodsman, and then answer your call by relating a
hunting incident which occurred to me after I became one;
which, if not very marvellous, shall, at least, have the merit of
truth and reality.

“I was brought up rather tenderly, as to work; and my
parents, absurdly believing that, with my then slight frame, any
employment requiring any labor or physical exertion would injure
me, put me to study, and assisted me to the means of
entering college at eighteen, and of graduating at twenty-two.
Well, I did not misimprove my opportunies for knowledge, I
believe; but, instead of gaining strength and manhood by my
exemption from labor, I grew feebler and feebler. Still, I did
not know what was wanting to give me health and constitution,
nor once think that a mind without a body is a thing not worth
having; and so I went on, keeping within doors and studying a
profession, until I found myself a poor, nervous, miserable dyspeptic,
and threatened with consumption. It was now plain enough
that, if I would avoid a speedy death, something must be done;
and, by the advice of the doctors, who were about as ignorant
of the philosophy of health as myself, I concluded to seek a
residence and livelihood in one of the Southern States. Accordingly,
I packed up and took stage for Boston, timing my
journey so as to get there the day before the ship, on which I
had previously ascertained I could find a passage, was to sail
for Savannah. But, the morning after I arrived, a severe storm
came on, and the sailing of the ship was deferred till the next
day; so, having nothing to do, knowing nobody to talk with,
and the weather being too stormy to go out to see the city, I
took to my solitary room in the hotel, where, fortunately, there
were neither books nor papers to prevent me from thinking.
And I did think, that day, almost for the first time in my life,
without the trammels of fashionable book-theories, and more effectually
than I had ever done before. I had a favorite classmate
in college, whose name was Silas Wright, who had a mind that

penetrated, like light, every thing it was turned upon, and who
never failed to see the truth of a matter, though his towering
ambition sometimes prevented him from following the path
where it led. In recalling, as I was pacing the floor that
gloomy day, my old college friends and their conversation, I happened
to think of what Wright once said to me on the subject
of health and long life.

“`Carvil,' said he, `did you know that we students were
committing treason against the great laws of life which God has
laid down for us?'

“`No.'

“`Well, we are. Man was made for active life, and in the
open air.'

“`But you, it seems, are not observing the theory about which
you are so positive?'

“`No, and don't intend to. To observe that, I must relinquish
all thought of mounting the professional and political
ladder, even half way to the mark I must and will reach. I
have naturally a strong constitution, and I calculate it will
last, with the rapid mounting I intend, till I reach the top
round, and that is all that I care for. But I shall know, all the
while, that I am going up like a rocket, whose height and brilliancy
are only attained by the certain and rapid wasting of the
substance that composes it. But the case is different with
you, Carvil. You have a constitution yet to make, or your
rocket will go out, before you can get high enough, in these days
of jostling and severe competition, to warrant the attempt of
mounting at all.'

“Such was one of Wright's intuitive grasps at the truth, hid
under the false notions of the times, or the artificial theories of
books, which he was wasting his life to master, and often only
mastering to despise. And I, being now earnestly in search of
the best means of health, eagerly caught at his notion, which
placed the matter in a light in which I had never before seriously
viewed it, and, indeed, struck me with a force that soon

brought me to a dead stand in all my calculations for the future.
`What is it,' thought I, running into a sort of mental dialogue
with myself, and calling in what little true science I had
learned, to aid me in fully testing the soundness of the notion,
before I finally gave in to it; `what is it that hardens the muscles,
and compacts the human system?'—`Thorough exercise,
and constant use.'—`Can these be had in the study-room?'
`No.'—`And what is the invigorating and fattening principle
of the air we breathe?'—`Oxygen.'—`Can this be had in the
close or artificially-heated room?'—`No, except in stinted and
uncertain proportions. It can be breathed in the open fields,
but much more abundantly in the woods.'—`Well, what do I
need?'—`Only hardening and invigorating.'—`But shall I go
to the relaxing clime of the South for this?'—`No; the northern
wilderness were a hundred times better.'—`It is settled,
then.'—`Landlord,' I cried aloud, as I saw that personage at
that moment passing by my partly open door, `when does the
first stage, going north, start?'

`In twenty minutes, and from my door.'

`Order on my luggage, here; make out your bill; and I
will be on hand.'

“And I was on hand at the time, and the next hour on my
way home, which I duly reached, but only to start off immediately
to the residence of a hunter acquaintance, a dozen miles
off, who, I knew, was about to start for the head-waters of the
Connecticut, on his annual fall hunting expedition. I found
him, joined him, and within ten days was entering, with pack
and rifle, the unbroken wilderness, by his side, though with
many misgivings. But my first night out tested and settled
the matter forever. We had had a fatiguing march, at least to
me, and the last part of it in the rain. We had to lay down in
a leaking camp, and I counted myself a dead man. But, to
my astonishment, I awoke the next morning, unhurt, and even
feeling better than I had for a month. And I constantly grew
better and hardier, through that and my next year's campaign

in that region, and through the two succeeding ones I
made on the Great Meguntic; where the incident which I propose
to relate to you, it being my best strike in moose-hunting,
occurred, and which happened in this wise:

“It was a raw, gloomy day in November, and I had been
lazily lying in my solitary camp, on the borders of this magnificent
lake, all the forenoon. But, after dinner, I began to
feel a little more like action, and soon concluded I would explore
a sort of creek-looking stream, four or five rods wide,
which I had noticed entering the lake about a mile off, but which
I had never entered. Accordingly, I loaded my rifle, took my
powder-horn, put two spare bullets in my vest-pocket, not supposing
I could have use for more, entered my canoe, and pulled
leisurely away for the place. After reaching and entering this
sluggish stream, I went on paddling and pushing my way along
through and under the overhanging bushes and treetops, something
like half a mile, when I came to higher banks and a series
of knolls jutting down to the stream, which, with frequent
sharp curves and crooks, wound its way among them. On turning
one of these sharp points, my eyes suddenly encountered a
sight that made my heart jump. On a high, open, and almost
bare bluff, directly before me, and not fifteen rods distant, stood
two tremendous moose, as unconcernedly as a pair of oxen
chewing their cuds, or dozing in a pasture. The last was
unusually large, the biggest a monster, appearing, to my wide-opened
eyes, with his eight or nine foot height, and ten or eleven
foot spread of antlers, as he stood up there against the sky,
like some reproduced mastodon of the old legends. Quietly
falling back and running in under a screening treetop, I pulled
down a branch and put in under my foot to hold and steady my
canoe. When I raised my rifle, I aimed it for the heart of the
big moose, and fired. But, to my great surprise, the animal
never stirred nor moved a muscle. Supposing I had somehow
unaccountably missed hitting him, even at all, I fell, with nervous
haste, to reloading my piece; and, having got all right, as

I supposed, I raised it this time towards the smaller moose,
standing a little nearer and presenting a fairer mark; took a
long and careful aim, and again let drive; but again without
the least effect. Utterly confounded to have missed a second
time, with so fair a shot, I stood half confused a moment, first
querying whether something was not the matter with my eyes,
and then thinking of stories I had heard of witches turning
away bullets from their object. But I soon mechanically began to
load up again; and, having got in my powder, I put my hand
in my pocket for a bullet, when I found there both the balls I
had brought with me from camp, and consequently knew that,
in my eager haste in loading for my last shot, I had neglected
to put in any bullet at all! But I now put in the bullet, looked
at it after it was entered, to make sure it was there, and then
felt it all the way down, till I had rammed it home. I then
raised the luckless piece once more, uncertain at first which of
the two moose I should take, this time. But, seeing the smaller
one beginning to move his head and lay back his horns, which
I well enough knew was his signal for running, I instantly
decided to take him, took a quick, good aim, and fired. With
three dashing bounds forward, the animal plunged headlong to
the ground. Knowing that one to be secure, at least, I then
turned my attention to the big one. To my astonishment, he was
still there, and, notwithstanding all the firing, had not moved an
inch. But, before I got loaded for another trial upon him, I
looked up again, when a motion in his body had become plainly
visible. Presently he began to sway to and fro, like a rocking
tower, and, the next moment, went over broadside, with a thundering
crash, into the bushes. My first shot, it appeared, had,
after all, done the business, having pierced his lungs and caused
an inward flow of blood, that stopped his breath at the time he
fell. All was now explained, except the wonder that such shy
animals should stand so much firing without running. But
the probability is, that, not seeing me, they took the reports of
my rifle for some natural sound, such as that of thunder, or the
falling of a tree; while, perhaps, the great one, when he was
hit, was too much paralyzed to move, by the rupture of some
important nerve. But, however that may be, you have the
facts by which to judge for yourselves. And I have now only
to add, that, having gone to the spot, bled, partially dressed the
animals, and got them into a condition to be left, I went off to
the nearest camps and rallied out help; when, after much toil
and tugging, we got the carcases home to my shanty, for present
eating, curing, and distributing among the neighboring
hunters, who soon flocked in to congratulate me on my singular
good luck, and receive their ever freely-bestowed portions, and
who unanimously pronounced my big prize the largest moose
ever slain in all the regions of the Great Megantic.”

THE TRAPPER'S STORY.

“My story,” commenced the trapper, who was next called on
for his promised contribution to the entertainment of the evening,
“my story is of a different character from the one you have just
heard. It don't run so much to the great and terrible as the
small and curious. It may appear to you perhaps a little queer,
in some parts; but which, after the modest drafts that have been
made on my credulity, you will, of course, have the good manners
to believe. It relates to an adventure in beaver-hunting,
which I met with, many years ago, on Moosehead Lake, where
I served my apprenticeship at trapping. I had established
myself in camp, the last of August, about the time the beavers,
after having collected in communities, and established their
never-failing democratic government, generally get fairly at
work on their dams and dwelling-houses, for the ensuing cold
months, in places along the small streams, which they have
looked out and decided on for the purpose. I was thus early
on the ground, in order to have time, before I went to other
hunting, to look up the localities of the different societies, so
that I need not blunder on them and disturb them, in the chase
for other animals, and so that I should know where to find

them, when their fur got thick enough to warrant the onslaught
upon them which I designed to make.

“In hunting for these localities in the vicinity around me, I
soon unexpectedly discovered marks of what I thought must
be a very promising one, situated on a small stream, not over
half a mile in a bee-line over the hills from my camp. When
I discovered the place, — as I did from encountering, at short
intervals in the woods, two wolverines, always the great enemy
and generally the prowling attendant of assembled beavers, —
these curious creatures had just begun to lay the foundation of
their dam. And the place being so near, and the nights moonlight,
I concluded I would go over occasionally, evenings, — the
night being the only time when they can ever be seen engaged
on their work, — and see if I could gain some covert near the
bank, where, unperceived, I might watch their operations, and
obtain some new knowledge of their habits, of which I might
thereafter avail myself, when the season for hunting them
arrived. Accordingly, I went over that very evening, in the
twilight, secured a favorable lookout, and laid in wait for the
appearance of the beavers. Presently I was startled by a loud
rap, as of a small paddle struck flatwise on the water, then another,
and another, in quick succession. It was the signal of
the master workman, for all the workers to leave their hiding-places
in the banks, and repair to their labors in making the
dam. The next moment the whole stream seemed to be alive
with the numbers in motion. I could hear them, sousing and
plunging in the water, in every direction, — then swimming and
puffing across or up and down the stream, — then scrambling
up the banks, — then the auger-like sound of their sharp teeth,
at work on the small trees, — then soon the falling of the trees,
— then the rustling and tugging of the creatures, in getting the
fallen trees out of the water, — and, finally, the surging and
splashing with which they came swimming towards the groundwork
of the dam, with the butt end of those trees in their
mouths. The line of the dam they had begun, passed with a

curve up stream in the middle, so as to give it more strength to
resist the current; across the low-water bed of the river some
five rods; and extended up over the first low bank, about as much
farther, to a second and higher bank, which must have bounded
the water at the greatest floods. They had already cut,
drawn on, and put down, a double layer of trees, with their
butts brought up evenly to the central line, and their tops pointing
in opposite directions, — those of one layer, or row, pointing
up, and those of the other, down stream. Among and under
this line of butts had been worked in an extra quantity of limbs,
old wood, and short bushes, so as to give the centre an elevation
of a foot or two, over the lowest part of the sides, which, of
course, fell off considerably each way in the lessening of the
tops of the trees, thus put down. Over all these they had
plastered mud, mixed in with stones, grass, and moss, so thick as
not only to hold down securely the bodies of the trees, but
nearly conceal them from sight.

“Scarcely had I time to glance over these works, which I
had not approached near enough to inspect much, before the
beavers from below, and above came tugging along, by dozens
on a side to the lower edges of their embankment, with the loads
or rafts of trees which they had respectively drawn to the spot.
Lodging these on the solid ground, with the ends just out of
water, they relinquished their holds, mounted the slopes, paused a
minute to take breath, and then, seizing these ends again, drew
them, with the seeming strength of horses, out of the water and
up to the central line on top; laid the stems or bodies of the
trees parallel, and as near together as they could be got; and
adjusted the butt ends, as I have stated they did with the
foundation layers, so as to bring them to a sort of joint on the
top. They then all went off for new loads, with the exception
of a small squad, a part of which were still holding their trees
in a small space in the dam, where the current had not been
checked, and the other part bringing stones, till they had confined
the trees down to the bottom, so that they would not be

swept away. This task of filling the gap, however, after some
severe struggling with the current, was before long accomplished;
when those engaged upon it joined in the common work,
in which they steadily persevered till this second double layer
of trees, with the large quanties of short bushes which they
brought and wove into the chinks, near the top, was completed,
through the whole length of their dam. They then collected
along on the top of the dam, and seemed to hold a sort of
consultation, after which they scattered for the banks of the
stream, but soon returned, walking on their hind legs, and
each bringing a load of mud or stones, held between his
fore paws and throat. These loads were successively deposited,
as they came up, among the stems and interlacing
branches of the trees and bushes they had just laid down, giving
each deposited pile, as they turned to go back, a smart blow
with the flat of their broad thick tails, producing the same
sound as the one I have mentioned as the signal-raps for calling
them out to work, only far less loud and sharp, since the
former raps were struck on water, and the latter on mud or
rubbish. Thus they continued to work, — and work, too, with
a will, if any creatures ever did, — till I had seen nearly the
whole of the last layers plastered over.

“Thinking now I had seen all that would be new and useful
to me, I noiselessly crept away and returned to camp, to lay
awake half the night, in my excitement, and to dream, the other
half, about this magnificent society of beavers, whose numbers
I could not make less than three dozen. I did not go to steal
another view of the place for nearly a week, and then went in
the daytime, there now being no moon, till late, — when, to my
surprise, I found the dam finished, and the river flowed into a
pond of several acres, while on each side, ranged along, one
after another, stood three family dwellings in different states of
progress; some of them only rising to the surface of the water,
showing the nature of the structure, which, you know, is built up
with short, small logs, and mud, in a squarish form, of about the

size of a large chimney; while others, having been built up a
foot or two above the water, and the windows fashioned, had
been arched over with mud and sticks, and were already nearly
finished.

“Knowing that the establishment was now so nearly completed
that the beavers would not relinquish it without being
disturbed by the presence of a human foe, — which they will
sometimes detect, I think, at nearly a quarter of a mile distance,
— I concluded to keep entirely away from them till the time of
my contemplated onslaught, which I finally decided to begin
on one of the first days of the coming November.

“Well, what with hunting deer, bear, and so on, for food,
and lynx, otter, and sable, for furs, the next two months passed
away, and the long anticipated November at length arrived;
when, one dark, cloudy day, having cut a lot of bits of green
wood for bait, got out my vial of castor to scent them with, and
got my steel traps in order, with these equipments and my
rifle I set off, for the purpose of commencing operations, of some
kind, on my community of beavers. On reaching the spot, I
crept to my old covert with the same precautions I had used on
my former visits, thinking it likely enough that, on so dark a
day, some of the beavers might be out; and, wishing to know
how this was, before proceeding openly along the banks to
look out the right places to set my traps, I listened a while, but
could hear no splashing about the pond, or detect any other
sounds indicating that the creatures were astir; but, on peering
out, I saw a large, old beaver perched in a window of one of
the beaver-houses on the opposite shore. I instinctively drew
up my rifle, — for it was a fair shot, and I knew I could draw
him, — but I forbore, and contented myself with watching his
motions. I might have lain there ten minutes, perhaps, when
this leader, or judge in the beaver Israel, as he soon showed
himself to be, quietly slid out into the water, swam into a
central part of the pond, and, after swimming twice or three
times round in a small circle, lifted his tail on high, and slowly

and deliberately gave three of those same old loud and startling
raps on the water. He then swam back to his cabin, and ascended
an open flat on the bank, where all the underbrush had
been cut and cleared off in building the dam. In a few minutes
more, a large number of beavers might be seen hastening to the
spot, where they ranged themselves in a sort of circle, so as just
to inclose the old beaver which came first, and which had now
taken his stand on a little moss hillock, on the farther side of
the little opening, to which he had thus called them, and, evidently,
for some important public purpose. Soon another small
band of the creatures made their appearance on the bank above,
seeming to have in custody two great, lubberly, cowed-down
looking beavers, that they were hunching and driving along, as
legal officers sometimes have to do with their prisoners, when
taking them to some dreaded punishment. When this last band
reached the place, with these two culprit-looking fellows, they
pushed them forward in front of the judge, as we will call him,
and then fell into the ranks, so as to close up the circle. There
was then a long, solemn pause, in which they all kept still in
their places round the prisoners, which had crouched sneaking
down, without stirring an inch from the places where they had
been put. Soon, however, a great, fierce, gruff-appearing
beaver left the ranks, and, advancing a few steps within them,
reared himself on his haunches, and began to sputter and gibber
away at a great rate, making his fore-paws go like the hands
of some over-heated orator; now motioning respectfully towards
the judge, and now spitefully towards the prisoners, as if he
was making bitter accusations, and demanding judgment against
them. After this old fellow had got through, two or three
others, in turn, came forward, and appeared also to be holding
forth about the matter, but in a far milder manner than the
other, which I now began much to dislike for his spitefulness,
and in the same proportion to pity the two poor objects of his
evident malice. There was then another long and silent pause,
after which, the judge proceeded to utter what appeared to be
his sentence; and, having brought it to a conclusion, he gave a
rap with his tail on the ground. At this signal, the beavers
in the ranks advanced, one after another, in rapid succession
toward the prisoners, and, circling round them once, turned
and gave each one of them a tremendous blow with their tails
over the head and shoulders; and so the heavy blows rapidly
fell, whack, whack, whack, till every beaver had taken his part
in the punishment, and till the poor prisoners keeled over, and
lay nearly or quite dead on the ground. The judge beaver then
quietly left his stand and went off; and, following his example,
all the rest scattered and disappeared, except the spiteful old
fellow that had so raised my dislike, by the rancor he displayed
in pressing his accusations, and, afterwards, by giving the culprits
an extra blow, when it came his turn to strike them. He
now remained on the ground till all the rest were out of sight,
when, — as if to make sure of finishing what little remains of life
the others, in their compunction, might have left in the victims,
so as to give them, if they were not quite killed by the terrible
bastinadoing they had received, a chance to revive and crawl
off, — he ran up, and began to belabor them with the greatest
fury over the head. This mean and malicious addition to the
old fellow's previously unfair conduct was too much for me to
witness, and I instantly drew my rifle and laid him dead beside
the bodies he was so rancorously beating. Wading the stream
below the dam, I hastened to my prizes, finished their last
struggles with a stick, seized them by their tails, and dragged
them to the spot I had just left; and then, after concealing my
traps, with the view of waiting a few days before I set them, so
as to give the society a chance to get settled, I tugged the game
I had so strangely come by, home to camp, where a more particular
examination showed them to be the three largest and
best-furred beavers I had ever taken.

“This brings me to the end of the unaccountable affair, and
all I can say in explanation of it; for how these creatures,
ingenious and knowing as they are, should have the intelligence

to make laws, — as this case seems to pre-suppose, — get up a
regular court, try, sentence, and execute offenders; what these
offenders had done, — whether they were thievish interlopers
from some other society, or whether they had committed some
crime, such as burglary, bigamy, or adultery, or high treason,
or whether they had been dishonest office-holders in the society
and plundered the common treasury, is a mystery which you can
solve as well as I. Certainly you cannot be more puzzled than I
have always been, in giving the matter a satisfactory explanation.

“And now, in conclusion, if you wish to know how I afterwards
succeeded in taking more of this notable society of
beavers, I have only to say, that, having soon commenced operations
anew, I took, before I quit the ground that fall, by rifle,
by traps, by digging or hooking them out of their hiding places
in the banks, and, finally, by breaking up their dwelling-houses,
twenty-one beavers in all; making the best lot which I ever had
the pleasure of carrying out of the woods, and for which, a month
or two after, I was paid, in market, one hundred and sixty-eight
hard dollars.”

THE OLD HUNTER'S STORY.

“I never but once,” commenced the hunter, who had announced
himself ready with the last story, when called on for
that purpose by his comrades, after they had commented to
their liking on the trapper's strange adventure, — “I never but
once, in my whole life, became afraid of encountering a wild
beast, or was too much unnerved in the presence of one to fire
my rifle with certainty and effect. But that, in one event, I was
in such a sorry condition for a hunter, I freely confess. And,
as you called for our most remarkable adventures, and as the
occurrence I allude to was certainly the most remarkable one
I ever met with in my hunting experience, I will relate it for
the story you assign me.

“It was about a dozen years ago, and on the borders of lake
Parmagena, a squarish-shaped body of water, four or five miles

in extent, lying twenty-five miles or so over these mountains to
the northwest of us, and making up the chief head-water of the
river Magalloway. My camp was at the mouth of the principal
inlet, and my most frequented hunting route up along its bank.
On my excursions up that river, I had often noticed a deeply-wooded,
rough, and singularly-shaped mountain, which, at the
distance of four or five miles from the nearest point of the
stream, westward, reared its shaggy sides over the surrounding
wilderness, and which I thought must make one of the best
haunts for bear and moose that I had seen in that region. So,
once having a leisure day, and my fresh provisions being low,
I concluded I would take a jaunt up to this mountain, thinking
that I should stand a good chance to find something there,
or on the way, to replenish my larder. And accordingly I
rigged up, after breakfast, and, setting my course in what I
judged would prove a bee-line for the place, in order to save
distance over the river route, I took up my march through the
woods, without path, trail, or marked trees to guide me.

“After a rough and toilsome walk of about three hours, I
reached the foot of the mountain of which I was in search, and
seated myself on a fallen tree, to rest and look about me. The
side of the eminence next to me was made up of a succession of
rocky, heavily-timbered steeps and shelves, that rose like battlements
before me, while, about midway, it was pierced or notched
down by a dark, wild, thicket-tangled gorge, which extended
along back up the mountain, as far as the eye could penetrate
beneath, or overlook above the tops of the overhanging trees.

“To think of trying to ascend such steeps was out of the
question; and I was debating in mind whether I would attempt
to go up through that forbidding and pokerish-looking
gorge, or, giving up the job altogether, strike off in the direction
of the river, and so go home that way, when a hideous
yell, which brought me instantly to my feet, rose from an upper
portion of the ravine, apparently about a hundred rods distant.
I at once knew it came from a painter, or “evil devil,” as the

Indians justly call that scourge and terror of the woods; and,
from the strength and volume of his voice, I also knew he
must be a large one, while, from its savage sharpness, I further
conjectured it must be a famine cry, which, if so, would
show the animal to be a doubly ticklish one to encounter.

“Feeling conscious that it was but the part of wisdom to
avoid such an encounter as I should be likely to be favored
with if I remained where I was, I soon moved off in an opposite
direction, steering at once for the nearest point of the river,
which was at the termination of a long, sharp sweep of the
stream to the west, and nearer by a mile than in most other
parts of its course. I had not proceeded more than a quarter
of a mile before the same savage screech, — which was more
frightful than I can describe, being seemingly made up of the
mingling tones of a man's and a woman's voice, raised to the
highest pitch in an agony of rage or pain, — the same awful
screech, I say, rose and thrilled through the shuddering forest,
coming this time, I perceived, from the mouth of the gorge,
where the animal had so quickly arrived, found my trail, doubtless,
and started on in pursuit. I now, though still not really
afraid, quickened my steps into a rapid walk, hoping that, now
he had got out of the thickets of the ravine, he would not follow
me far in the more open woods; yet thinking it best, at all
events, to put what distance I could between him and me,
without too much disturbing myself. Another of those terrific
yells, however, coming from a nearer point than before, as fast
as I had made my way from him, told me that the creature was
on my tracks, and rapidly gaining on me in the race. I then
started off at a full run; but even this did not insure my escape,
for I was soon startled by another yell, so near and fierce, that
I involuntarily turned round, cocked my rifle, and stood on the
defence. The next moment the animal met my sight, as he leaped
up on to the trunk of a lodged tree, where he stood in open
view, eagerly snuffing and glaring around him, about forty rods
from the place where I had been brought to a stand, — revealing

a monster whose size, big as I had conjectured it, perfectly
amazed me. He could not have been much less than six feet
from snout to tail, nor much short of nine, tail included. But
for his bowed-up back, gaunter form, and mottled color, he
might have passed for an ordinary lioness. The instant he
saw me, he began nervously fixing his paws, rapidly swaying
his tail, like a cat at the first sight of her intended prey, and
giving other plain indications that he was intent on having
me for his dinner.

“I had my rifle to my shoulder: it was a fair shot, but still
I hesitated about firing. My experience with catamounts,
which, though of the same nature, are yet no more to be compared
with a real panther, like this, than a common cur to a
stout bulldog, had taught me the danger of wounding without
killing them outright. If those were so dangerous under ordinary
circumstances, what would this be, already bent on destroying
me? And should I stand, at that distance, an even
chance to finish him, which could only be done by putting a
ball through his brain, or spine, or directly through his heart?
I thought not. The distance was too great to be sure of any
thing like that; and besides, my nerves, I felt, were getting a
little unsteady, and I also found I was losing my faith, which is
just the worst thing in the world for a hunter to lose. While
I was thinking of all this, the creature leaped down, and, the
next instant, I saw his head rise above the bushes, in his prodigious
bounds towards me. With that glance, I turned and
ran; ran as I never did before; leaping over logs, and smashing
headlong through brush and bushes, but still distinctly hearing,
above all the noise I made, the louder crash of the creature's
footfalls, striking closer and closer behind me. All at once,
however, those crashing sounds ceased to fall on my ear, and
the thought that my pursuer had sprung one side into an ambush,
from whence he would pounce on me before I could see
him, flashing over my mind, I suddenly came to a stand, and
peered eagerly but vainly among the bushes around me for

the crouching form of my foe. While thus engaged, a seeming
shadow passing over the open space above caused me to glance
upward, when, to my horror, I saw the monster coming down
from a tree-top, with glaring eyes, open mouth, and outspread
claws, directly upon me! With a bound, which at any other
time I should have been utterly incapable of making, I threw
myself aside into the bushes just in time to escape his terrible
embrace; and, before he had rallied from the confusion caused
by striking the ground and missing his prey, I had gained the
distance of a dozen rods, and thrown myself behind a large
tree. But what was now to be done? I knew, from his trotting
about and snuffing to regain the sight and scent of me, which I
could now distinctly hear, that he would soon be upon me. If
I distrusted the certainty of my aim before this last fright,
should I not do it much more now? I felt so; and, as I was
now within a mile of the river, — where, if I could reach it, I
thought it possible to find a way to baffle, at least, if I did not
kill, my ruthless pursuer, — I concluded that my best chance
for life was to run for the place. But, in peering out to
ascertain the exact whereabouts of the painter before I
started, my ear caught the sound of other and different footsteps;
and the next moment I had a glimpse of a bear's
head, bobbing up and down in his rapid course through the
bushes, as he ran at right angles, with all his might, directly
through the space between me and the painter, which, I saw,
was now just beginning to advance towards me, but which, to
my great relief, had seen and was turning in pursuit of the
flying and frightened bear.

“But still, fearing he would give up that pursuit, and again
take after me, I ran for the river, which I at length reached,
and threw myself exhausted down on the bank. As it happened,
I had struck the river exactly at the intended point,
which was where a small sand-island had been thrown up in
the middle of the stream. To this island, in case I kept out
of the claws and jaws of the painter till I reached the river,

I had calculated to wade; believing, from what I knew of the
repugnance of this class of animals to water, that he would not
follow me, or, if he did, I need not fail of shooting him dead
while coming through the stream. But I soon found that I was
not the only one that had thought of this island, in our terrible
extremity.

“I had lain but a few minutes on the bank, before I caught
the sounds of near and more distant footfalls approaching apace
through the forest above me. Starting up, I cocked my rifle,
and darted behind a bush near the edge of the water, and had
scarcely gained the stand, when the same bear that I had left
fleeing before the painter, made his appearance a few rods
above me, coming full jump down the bank, plunging into the
stream, and swimming and rushing amain for the island. As
soon as he could clear the water, he galloped up to the highest
part of his new refuge, and commenced digging, in hot haste,
a hole in the sand. The instant he had made an excavation
large and deep enough to hold his body and sink it below the
surface, he threw himself in on his back, hurriedly scratched
the sand at the sides a little over his belly and shoulders, and
lay still, with his paws stiffly braced upwards.

“The next moment the eagerly-pursuing painter came rushing
down the bank to the water, where the bear had entered
it; when, after a hesitating pause, he gave an angry yell, and,
in two prodigious bounds, landed on the edge of the island.
Having raised my rifle for a helping shot, if needed, I awaited,
with beating heart and eyes wide open, the coming encounter.
With eyes shooting fire, the painter hastily fixed his feet, and,
with a long leap, came down on his intrenched opponent. A
cloud of dust instantly enveloped the combatants, but through
it I could see the ineffectual passes of the painter at the bear's
head, and the rapid play of the bear's hind paws under the
painter's belly. This bout between them, however, was of but
short continuance, and terminated by the painter, which now
leaped suddenly aside, and stood for a moment eyeing his opponent

askance, as if he had found in those rending hind-claws
already much more than he had bargained for. But, quickly
rousing himself, he prepared for the final conflict; and, backing
to the water's edge, he gave one short bound forward, and,
leaping ten feet into the air, came down again, with a wild
screech, on his still unmoved antagonist.

“This time, so much more furiously flew up the dust and
sand from the spot, that I could see nothing; but the mingling
growls and yells of the desperately-grappling brutes were so
terrific as to make the hair stand up on my head. Presently,
however, I could perceive that the cries of the assailant, which
had been becoming less and less fierce, were now turning into
howls of pain; and, the next moment, I saw him, rent and
bloody, with his entrails out and dragging on the ground behind
him, making off till he reached the water on the opposite
side of the island, when he staggered through the current,
feebly crawled up the bank, and disappeared in the woods,
where he must have died miserably within the hour.

“I went home a grateful man; leaving the bear, that had
done me such good service, to depart in peace, as I saw him
doing before I left, apparently little injured from the conflict.”