Some Thoughts on Coon Hunting

  Well, here we are again. A month and a half away from the January Ham shoot, and a few months away from the annual Maple Sugar Camp. I am really excited and it's nice to have these things to look forward to. The ham is about to be ordered, the whiskey is being picked out by our expert in that field, member Brian Cushing and I'm looking to order some labels from a company in England that make period canned good labels.

 What else am I doing?

 Working on getting my coon hunting kit together. Since the beginning of reading "Back Then" and pouring through the HTT magazines, it's been my favorite subject. Back home my Amish neighbor and I would go coon hunting and as far as hunting goes, it's been my favorite. Unlike deer hunting or other bigger game where you spend the whole time sitting still, coon hunting allows you to pursue the game.

 It's such a wonderful rush that you get when you hear the dog has something treed. I have never hunted with hounds. My neighbor I mentioned before had an Australian Heeler that was one of the best. When he had treed the coon, he would begin to whimper and cry real loud. We'd come up on him and shine. Sure enough we'd see those two glowing eyes looking down on us.


 EQUIPMENT :

 The equipment for coon hunting is pretty basic. You need light, a firearm and a dog.

We will start with light.

 Some coon hunters during the early 20th century were using carbide lamps however for me it will much easier to use a kerosine lantern.

  I'm really excited to see how hunting with a lantern like this will work. Obviously it does work, because they did it, but I've never experienced it before. 

Now to the firearm. 

 The only gun you need is a good single shot .22 . My good friend and member Matthew Fennewald recently said if he could only choose one gun to own, it would be a .22 . So which one will I be taking? Stevens single shot. 

 It's a great little gun and provides just the right amount of fire power. I recently took a ground hog with it, and from 40 yards I dropped it like a hammer. 

 My dog. 

 The dog, a Plott/Cur  is a young one, but I'm hoping he'll take to hunting. He's shown a lot of promise when I've taken him to the woods. Nose to the ground, head looking up, jumping up on trees. Everyone says to take your dog out with other dogs, but I don't know anyone around here so I'm just going to have to give it a go. 

 Wish me luck. I'm looking forward to getting out in the dark and chasing the ring tails again. 

-Jake Book, Member 002

A Ground Hog Adventure

October 24th, 1917

Today I decided to take the new pup, Simon to the woods. He's a Plot/Cur and a fine specimen of a hunting dog. Nose to the ground and head up looking for game.

We started down into the woods and he started to tracking. Made our way down a steep hill into the holler and found a good spot to sit and wait for movement.

About 5 feet from me Simon started to dig and whimper and let out a few "yips". He had found a chipmunk but when I went to help him the chipmunk darted away to safety.

After that we made our way up the other side of the hill along a rocky creek bed. As we went I looked about 40 yards ahead and saw what I thought was a ground hog. I took a few more steps and saw his head move, brought my gun up, aimed quickly and fired. He fell instantly and Simon and I ran up to make sure he was good and dead. When Simon arrived he grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and shook him a good time or two.
Simon is gonna be a fine dog.

-Jake Book, Kentucky

Hiking in the Smokies by Brent Schubert

While visiting Great Smoky Mountains National Park recently I decided to spend some time in early 20th century period attire. During the 1920s the idea of creating another National Park in the East was gaining traction through the work of people like Horace Kephart. Tourists were starting to spend more time visiting and hiking in the Smoky Mountains, even before the National park was chartered in 1934. In 1924 the Smoky Mountains Hiking Club was formed. The Smoky Mountains Hiking Club made group outings, hiking in the mountains, and engaged in conservation and trail maintenance. Several photos of club outings and other hikers in the Smokies exist to give us an example of the kind of clothing and equipment used by hikers in the late 1920s and early 1930s. I used these photos to guide my own impression of a late 1920s Smoky Mountains hiker on my trip to the park.

One unique piece of equipment I've noticed in period photos of hikers in the Smokies is a surplus WWI US gas mask bag worn with the strap extended and slung over the shoulder. I've yet to find evidence of this practice in photos from anywhere else. I thought it was such an interesting use of a piece of WWI surplus gear, that decided to wear a reproduction bag in the same manner on my hike. Another piece of equipment that shows up in those period photos is the surplus M1910 canteen, often worn on a waist belt. In one Smoky Mountains Club group photo an individual appears to be wearing the canteen with the M1917 mounted canteen cover slung over his shoulder with a leather strap.

Inside my surplus gas mask bag I carried a few items for a short day hike in the mountains. I had my 1917 copy of Horace Kephart's "Camping and Woodcraft" in honor of the man who spent so much time in the Smokies, and worked to save the Smoky Mountains as a national park. In fact it was in a cabin in the Smoky Mountains where Kephart wrote "Camping and Woodcraft." I also carried my circa 1920 Kodak folding autographic camera in the bag. As well as a small tin of Lollacapop (a period bug repellant), my Swedish barrel knife, a handkerchief, and an old tobacco tin which contained some matches along with a separate tin which holds my flint and steel fire starting kit. Tucked in my belt I wore my "Sierra Cup" to dip into a mountain spring should I come across one. Cups like this were carried by members of early 20th century hiking clubs, including the Smoky Mountains Hiking Club. To carry drinking water with me in the hot Southern sun of east Tennessee I carried a WWI surplus M1910 canteen on my belt.

With this equipment, and dressed in period clothing common to outdoorsmen of the late 1920s, I spent a morning hiking in the mountains around an old circa 1820 Tennessee log cabin I was staying at near the national park. From the cabin I hiked across an open mountain meadow, down to a small pond. After skirting around the pond, I entered the woods on a trail that wandered around the mountains for a bit. The September sun of east Tennessee was much hotter than what I was used to coming from Michigan. The cool of the morning was beginning to quickly turn to a very hot day as the sun rose above the mountains. After a little while I sat down to take a break and observe the mountains while I took a drink from my canteen. Eventually I made my way back to the cabin the way I had come. It was a short hike, but an enjoyable period experience nonetheless. Hiking in the mountains in period clothing during the summer months takes a little more stamina than modern summer hiking in lightweight synthetic clothing. But it is possible. The extra weight and heat of wearing early 20th century clothing in warm weather forces you to slow down a bit, but it is still an enjoyable and rewarding experience.

-Brent Schubert-

Fall is Coming, Memberships and Writing

Well, as I sit here in the somewhat humid state of Kentucky, I can feel fall weather just waiting around the corner and I for one can't wait. Fall is the time of year where I really start to get back in touch with my love for this time period.

 I thought I would maybe do some reviewing of what has happened in the last year and once again like a beating a tired old horse offer up my thoughts on the original vision for ETCS and what I think the future could hold.

 The vision began many many years ago with my father, David Book (member 0001). The idea was to recreate the golden age of hunting, trapping, camping and outdoors activities. An influential book was called "Back Then : A Pictorial History of Americans Afield". Our plan was simply to hold a few period camps on our farm, maybe invite a few like minds and do some shooting. Nothing to big. We certainly didn't envision it getting very big, and honestly it's not necessarily what we wanted. To often, as things grow, different ideas about the direction and vision begin to be offered, infighting begins and suddenly you have a split or the whole thing just folds all together. Obviously we don't want this to happen.

 Over the last year, interest in ETCS has exploded. It's truly been amazing and to be honest, I didn't really know how to handle it. It was a bit overwhelming to say the least.

 As I saw it, I had two options in front of me. Include everyone or exclude some people.

 Part of our vision for ETCS was that we would maintain a high level of authenticity in our portrayals if we kept it small and membership limited. That way we could make certain that everyone was on the same page. But with the group growing, we didn't want anybody with a pair of bibs and a flannel shirt to be able to affiliate with us. It was becoming a sticky situation as the facebook group requests began piling up.

 After talking with Matthew Fenewald (member 0003 and Vice President of ETCS) and a few other early members we came to the conclusion that the facebook group we had would be open to anyone with a casual interest in ETCS and that if a person had their kit together and wanted to submit for official membership they could do so. Official members become so based on a kit review and then are added to the membership roll and then become eligible to attend ETCS Members Only Events. This will ensure that we maintain this high level of authenticity as mentioned before.

 So what do we do for the casual folks who would like to come out and see what all the fuss is about?

 We are currently working on a sort of "Sportsman Convention" of sorts where ETCS will hold a camp open to all interested persons to come take a look and participate. This will give aspiring members a chance to meet the members of ETCS and to maybe make some purchases to add to their kits and improve their impressions.

 In short, I am really excited about what the future holds!

 On a last note, I am wanting to encourage the membership and even non members after review to submit to the blog :

-Hunting Stories
-Camping Tutorials
-Equipment Reviews
-Firearm Reviews
-Hunting Dog Advice
-Dog Sledding

 Please consider this as we get out into the woods this fall. Our counterparts wrote into the sporting magazines of the day and related all kinds of great stories, advice and tips for the sportsman. I'm sure we can come up with some of our own!

 Here's to an excellent season of sporting,

-Jake, Member 0002-

The Economy Sportsman

 It was recently asked of me to put together a list of kit items that one would need to hit the woods, but that wouldn't break the bank. So here is what I'm calling the Economy Kit. In some cases there simply just isn't an inexpensive option. I'll try to give alternatives wherever I can. This list does not include your firearm and accoutrements. Just your head to toe start up kit.

 Starting from top to bottom.

HAT
 There are MANY options for ones headwear. The two hat styles that I would recommend that would be cheaper than buying a nice derby or a broad brimmed hat, would be the Scotch Cap or the 8 piece walking cap. Both of these can be purchased at River Junction Trading Co. out of McGregor Iowa (I'll be referencing them a lot.)

 PRICE : $39.95

  Other hat options if your impression falls squarely in the 1920s would be the Stormy Kromer hat. Same price.

SHIRT(s)
 Shirts seem to be fairly standard by this point in history. I would recommend any of the Drover style shirts offered by River Junction.

 PRICE : $59.95

 TROUSERS
  With trousers I would also again recommend the trousers of River Junction. This Duck Trouser really fits the bill. There are also wool trousers too, but stick with the Duck. They are good and sturdy and will be useful in the woods. Just layer up with some long johns in cold weather.

 PRICE : $69.95

 SOCKS and SHOES
 For socks, I would simply recommend army socks from your local Army Navy surplus store. I bought a pair for something like $4.00. You can also buy wool socks from your local men's store or the red topped socks. These will work well.

 I'd also recommend the Rockford Red Heel sock that dates back to our period.

PRICE : $14.00 (2 pair)

 For shoes there really isn' an economy shoe. I usually don't like to make concessions so I would say for outdoors work, the Rothco Rubber Boot or the CLC Rain Wear would be good choices. The Rothco boot to me really fits the shape of the classic rubber boots of our period and is modestly priced.

 PRICE : Rothco Boot $39.99
               CLC : $24.24

If you have a good old fashioned work boot, these could work as well.

TOTAL : Around $220.00 depending on what you buy.

This will be all you need to hit the woods in the style of the Early 20th Century Sportsman. If you have any questions, please write to me at early20thcenturysportsman@gmail.com. If you or your wife is handy with a needle I can recommend some patterns that will bring the cost down.

Thanks!

Thoughts from the Klondike

 As late fall settles in and winter quickly approaches, I always get a longing to go up North. How far North you ask? Well any distance would be good. Northern Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan? That's about as far North in the states as you can go without making a trip up to Alaska. And speaking of Alaska, I recently came across some cool images while studying about the Klondike Gold Rush, a period of time that really fascinates me. 

 Sportsman of the early 20th century heading North for game or for gold had to be outfitted. Clothing is of course a big part of putting together your early 20th century attire. And for you men of the North these photographs provide some great insight. Enjoy. 

 Some good examples of clothing worn in the North in the Klondike. 

Examples of Shelters

 As hunting and trapping season is very soon to be upon us, I was thinking about the various styles of shelter appropriate for the Early 20th Century camp.

 Many styles are appropriate. The Wedge and Wall tent seem to be the most common that you see. These styles of tents could easily be purchased. The Fulton Wall Tent as well as the "rope ridge" wedge tent and a regular wedge appear in the Sears and Roebuck catalog of the day. You could order them in a multitude of sizes.

 The other second common option was the lean-to. That is currently what I've been doing mainly because I don't have a period camp stove yet for my wedge. With a lean-to I can build a fire in front and let that heat reflect into it creating a nice cozy place to sleep. I'm putting some photos here of some tent set ups from the period. Happy camping! 

A New Dog

Matthew Fennewald and his new Black Mouth Cur, July. 

This story starts a few years back with the loss of my previous cur dog Kettle.  She was quite the squirrel hunting dog and had a sense of mischievousness unlike any dog I had ever owned.  If I was working in my shop and she perceived me to be ignoring her she would lower her body to the floor and slyly come sneaking up.  Then, with one quick movement she'd snatch my hammer, file, chisel, or whatever other tool I happened to be using and had laying on my bench and off she'd run.  After getting into the yard she would spin around, crouch down, drop the tool, wag her tail furiously and bark.  Not one to let her down on her tom foolery I'd come running out hollering.  Her hunting was just as full of life and fun as her play.  As soon as I'd come out the door with my squirrel rifle that dog would just about go crazy with excitement, knowing what was about to happen.  She seemed to know the difference in guns too, as this sort of behavior was reserved for the squirrel rifle only.  On the hunt, her quick "yip yips" would let me know she was on the scent of a squirrel and was usually followed by the full blown treed bark all dog hunters know and love.  Kettle's time was cut short however and a sad day it was to come home to hear the news that the smartest dog I'd owned was gone.  

And so, this past November, when given the opportunity to get a new cur, this time a black mouth, I jumped at the chance.  I named him July, and he seems to possess the same spirit and love of life that Kettle had.  He also seems to already relish the idea of hunting and is a terror on the barn cats we have around.  Though only half their size he doesn't hesitate at the sight of them to attempt to run them down and usually ends up with them treed in one of the many oak trees that dot my yard.  I have started training him with both a coon tail and a squirrel tail tied on a string that I'll pull around and let him chase.  Though not quite big enough for actual hunting I have been taking him to run the trap line with me and am impressed with his patience and obedience.  I imagine it is no small deal when you're a puppy and want to tear into the raccoon in a trap and your master says no to be able to listen to the command. I'm looking forward to getting him out in the woods for some real dog hunting as soon as he's big enough.

Matthew Fennewald, Cotton, Missouri

The Pleasures of Outdoor Life by Edwin E. Gunther (HTT September, 1918)

THE PLEASURES OF OUTDOOR LIFE

By EDWIN E. GUNTHER

 The disease to hunt, trap and roam the woods, to live in the great out-doors, to breathe the air of freedom, to feel the thrill of vital joys, and hear the music of the spheres as only the lover of nature can, is what prompted us to take this little outing. So on Nov. 31st we loaded up a tin Henry, better known as Ford, and the high places for Blackwater Creek to try our luck at trapping, hunting and to have a general good time. Here is a description of the outfit taken. One tent x 12 and poles, one box stove, and cooking utensils, lantern, oil can, blankets, groceries to last a week and after three of us, pard myself and the driver piled into the car, there was hardly room to breathe. 

 We made the trip over bad roads and steep hills in good time, arriving at our destination before noon, found a good low place in heavy timber and set up our tent and while pard manufactured a table out of timber which he said was natural oak finished, I cooked up some dinner of potatoes, bacon, bread, and coffee. After dinner we got busy again. Pard cut four poles; with these he made a sort of crib in the back end of the tent and in this we piled leaves and hay and on this our blankets and we had a real comfortable bed, and that night early we hit the hay but were awakened before break of day. Pard rubbed his eyes and says I am dreaming, I thought I heard a panther screaming. Just then 1 heard a noise right over head that would wake up the dead. And then we fell back again to dream. Boys did you ever hear an owl scream? When pard reads this I suppose he still feels like beating me up, but I had to pull one off on him, tho I admit that those owls frightened me as much as they did him. As this was the first day of the open season we struck out early with our traps. We set most of them for muskrats, coon and skunk. We caught a small bunch of rats and then it turned cold and snowed. We had to chop our traps out of the ice. We caught a few skunks, but found traps in almost every den or hole big enough for a mouse to crawl in, so you see we were not the only pebbles on the beach. I think some trapped all summer down there. While the snow was on we spent most of the time hunting rabbits. Squirrels, were plentiful down there but we never killed more than we could use.

 I remember one day I was walking along with my head down and a hickory nut dropped in front of me which caused me to look up and there up in a tree were four squirrels. I stopped still, they had not noticed me. Two were busy cracking nuts, the other two were playing hide and seek. They were having lots of fun. We needed meat and was not this a good place to get it? I raised my rifle to shoot but I did not. I guess some will say that I was chicken hearted but I would rather be a little chicken hearted than a "Game Hog". I have always admired the little wild creatures and I like to give them a fair chance for their life. We had been having squirrel or rabbit every day and we were getting awful hungry for a roast opossum or coon. 

  One sunday evening a young man came riding by our camp and informed us that he had seen a coon go up a tree a little distance above camp. We thanked him very much, rushed into the tent scrambled all over each other hunting for our guns. I almost yelled "roast coon tomorrow" I imagined I saw coons on every tree but upon closer observation found out that they were nothing but knots, snags, etc. Search as we did, we failed to find any coon. I did not say anything to pard but my thoughts were strong that the young man was telling his best girl the big joke he played on us, tho I believe he was telling us the truth. Some kind of animal had been coming to our tent every night to eat of the refuse. Pard says we will have a little fun and find out what it is. So we set two traps where he had been getting his meal and that night about 10 o'clock part punched me in the ribs and informed me that he was back. I was about to ask who he was talking about when "SNAP" went the traps. The animal gave a pitiful little whine. He was to frightened to yell, made about three big leaps and cleared the timber while pard and I were almost splitting our sides laughing. It sure amused us how we surprised him. Whatever the animal was he never got hungry enough to come back to our tent for his meals anymore.

 Isn't it strange how much one will endure in the way of sport and call it fun? We would tramp all day over hills, dodging through thick timber, get feet wet, come in at night tired out, but could laugh and joke about our days sport, and Oh! how we could eat. Our appetites could hardly be satisfied and we did not need any rocking to put us to sleep at night. Say, boys, this is the life if you really want to know your friend, take an outing with him, there you will be real pals. About the middle of December we pulled up stakes and went home. We did not have much success in trapping, but then there is a great deal of compensation from the pleasure one gets out of it. We both enjoyed it greatly and if nothing happens we expect to take more outings. One must be a lover of nature if he would get the most benefit from an outing, but whether he be a lover of nature or not he must confess that there is nothing can compare to its silent loveliness.


 * September 1918 Hunter Trader Trapper

Building a Lean-To

  The lean-to is one of the most basic and oldest ways of creating shelter from the weather. This one is very simple and can be built fairly quickly.

 Cedar trees are excellent for building a lean-to because they grow very straight. That's what I used here. Lashing one pole between two trees gives you a good ridge to build from.

  After lashing them on my plan was to put three poles off the back and then two more running the length of the ridge pole. This reinforces the structure but also gives you a good frame for your tarp to cover. 

 After lashing these poles on with hemp rope, I cut out my oil cloth tarp and laid it on. 

Attaching this tarp to the structure can prove a bit frustrating. Sometimes folks would just lay brush over the back and stack sticks over the canvas to keep it in place. I may sew the two strips together at some point and sew some reinforced holes to loop ropes through to make attaching easier. 

 I hope to spend a night in it real soon! 

Jake Book, Kentucky 

Coming Up Empty

 I decided I would head out for a morning hunt yesterday , looking to go after a rabbit or squirrel.

 My arsenal for the hunt included :

•  1897 Winchester 16 Gauge Pump Shotgun 
• Harrington and Richardson .22 Rim Fire Pistol 
• Joseph, Allen and Sons, Sheffield NON XXL Knife 

1897 Winchester Shotgun

 The 1897 Winchester Shotgun is really a great gun. I like the hammer, for nothing really more than my own esthetic preference. 

Harrington & Richardson 22-Caliber Revolver 

H&R 22 Revolver in the 1908 Sears and Roebuck Catalog

 I love my H&R .22 Revolver. Dad gave it to me a few years back as a Christmas gift and I have always taken it to the woods with me. The cylinder holds 7 rounds (but I always load 6 with the hammer on an empty chamber when I go out, as my dad taught me). 

Joseph, Allen and Sons, Sheffield England. NON-XXL Knife

 This knife is was made after 1890. A good example of a hunting knife of the period.

 Now that I've shown you my arms assortment I will now relate my hunting experience.

 The morning hunt I descended into the woods and right away saw two squirrels. They must have been in the midst of playing and very quickly scampered off and I was quickly out of range.

 I knew where there was a briar patch and had seen many a rabbit there in the past. A good dog would have been a big help on this excursion. I approached the briar and all of the sudden up sprang a rabbit. I leveled my shotgun and fired just as he ducked behind a log. I missed. This is where the dog would have been handy. I had to go in to the briar patch a short ways to see if I could kick him up again. I did but he was soon out of my sight and scampered on up the hill.

 I continued on my way but didn't see anything as I sat and waited under a tree.

 Soon I headed back up the trail. I soon saw a squirrel come barreling across the trail about 20 yards in front of me. As I lowered my gun he began up the hill. I fired and just like the rabbit he ducked behind a log as I fired. I kept my eyes on the spot where I fired and ran towards it. The squirrel appeared to have just vanished into thin air.

 I came back to the house and then around 4 o'clock I went back out for another try. I immediately saw another squirrel and fire at him. Again just like the rabbit and the squirrel he ducked behind a log and vanished. My frustration was getting high at this point.

 I moved along and soon saw another squirrel close to where I saw the rabbit earlier. I should have waited and been patient but I let my frustration get the best of me and fired, missing him altogether.

 After a while longer dark was approaching and decided to head home. 

 When I arrived at home I reached for my knife and realized it wasn't there. All that was left was the loop and the sheath had completely torn off. I panicked for a moment as I thought back to what I was doing that could have made that happen. I remembered! I slid down the bank of the dry creek bed and it must have caught and ripped off of my belt. So I knew I would have to go hunting for it in the morning which would give me another opportunity at those pesky squirrels. 

 I headed out and just like the day before saw two squirrels right away. And yet again they alluded me.

 I returned to the creek bed where I was sure my knife would be and finally after a while found it, half buried in the dirt.

 The things I learned from this hunt is to be more patient and don't fire your gun after a squirrel in frustration. Be patient and wait for him. It had been some time since I had been out in the woods hunting so I am sort of getting used to it again. 

 -Jake Book, Kentucky

Back Then : A Pictorial History of American's Afield (Book Review)

 Back Then : A Pictorial History of American's Afield

 The book that started it all.

 The idea of doing "back then", a term in our house that has come to mean anything pre-1920, came about really because of this book. Dad had gotten a copy a long time ago and for years we would get it out every now and again and make these great plans to start recreating the golden age of hunting and trapping. These passing moments would be spent pouring over the contents of this book.

 The book is FULL of photographs from the 1870s all the way to the 1930s. The large photo layouts, complete with year, location and descriptions, along with articles from sporting magazines of the time makes this book a must have for anyone recreating the Early 20th Century Sportsman.

 Copies can be found here.

Happy New Year and a Rabbit Story

 Well, the new year is upon us and the 2015 will I hope prove to be an exciting time for the Early 20th Century Sportsman.

 We have been busy here trying to get our first event planned and a newsletter out there to our members. Stay tuned for that.

 As I think about this time of year I am reminded of a short story from my childhood.

Boys and their rabbits, 1904

 We moved to the old farm back in Numa, Iowa when I was about 4-5 years old. Our first winter in the house, I remember being a wonderful time. I feel like much of my childhood was spent in the past, or the distant past as it were. The house had been an old company mining house but now it was a warm little farm house on the southern Iowa prairie. I always had a toy gun laying around the house and I was always hunting wild animals or pretending to be Davy Crockett at the Alamo. One day I was looking out the big window of the bedroom. This window faced the south of the farm and from it I could see all the way back to the end of our property. Out away from the house about 100 yards was this old shed. Well, I looked out and I saw a rabbit! This rabbit was just waiting to be taken as my prize so I carefully took aim as my mom looked over my shoulder. I fired! BANG! The rabbit instantly flew up in the air and then lay there...dead! I was thrilled! My mom was very surprised at this and wondered what in the world had happened.

 Well soon the truth came out. I had not shot the rabbit like I had thought. Out from behind that shed emerged my father carrying his .22 rifle. He had shot that rabbit at the exact same moment I had shot my rifle. My mother was none to pleased and ran out to tell him that he wasn't allowed to shoot rabbits in her yard because she liked to watch them and if Dad wanted to hunt rabbits he should go to the woods. But the little boy with the toy rifle was still convinced it was he that had shot the rabbit.

Jake Book, Kentucky

Merry Christmas!

The Early 20th Century Sportsman would like to wish you a Merry Christmas and the Happiest of New Years!

1914 Christmas Card

Adventure on a Des Moines River Trap Line : Part 2

Adventure on a Des Moines River Trap Line

Part Two

With the image of those two beavers inside their den I could scarce think about or talk about anything else as we made our way back to the cabin.  By the time we got to the last set it was near dark and we discovered a fine red fox recently caught.  Jerry dispatched him, reset his trap and off we went.  The fox was amazing and very exciting but the beaver still had my attention.  

It was getting colder and despite the quick pace we moved at I was not heating up like I had earlier in the day.  My coat that I had shed when we started no longer seemed adequate to keep me warm.  It was by now very dark in the woods despite a half moon and like every kid in every dark forest through out history I started to see things moving in the shadows, sounds that were NOT there in the daylight!  Suddenly my brother stopped, he must be seeing and hearing the same thing!  I swung around to check behind to see if I was about to be overtaken by.......  Jerry turned and pointed ahead of us, "Do you see that?"  I peered ahead into the darkness and saw a glow of light on up the hill towards the edge of the timber.  My brother cautioned me to move quietly till we could see what was going on.  Now you all remember what it was like to be 10 years old, a long way from home, dark woods, cold, wind picking up and unknown glow ahead.  It could be robbers hiding out from the Sheriff,  or moonshiners...

So, here we are, its sure to be...before I could finish my thought my brother stands up and hollers out, "Hello in the camp, we're coming back from checking our trap line, do you mind if we come in?"  Why would he do that, give away our position??? From behind the glow, which by now I could clearly see was a camp fire, I heard a voice holler back to come on ahead.  By now I am shaking, might have been the cold but mostly I just remember being scared at that point!

The closer we got my fears were vanquished a little with each step as it became increasingly obvious that there was just one man sitting in front of his lean-to cooking over a camp fire.  His Winchester was leaned up against one of the poles holding up his canvas, some traps were hanging off the pole on the other side.  Behind him was a bed roll with a red Hudson Bay blanket on top.  A trappers basket was at the pole with the traps hanging and he was sitting at his fire pushing some coals closer to something on the other side.  He asked us to come on in and sit under the lean-to, said it would be warmer there and it was.  Then he told us we were just in time to have some of his desert.  Next thing I know to my wide eyed amazement out from across the fire came a pan with a chocolate cake.  He told us he was sorry there was no icing for it but he said its pretty tasty just out of his reflector oven. He was right! Warm cake, a warm fire and out of the wind, I thought this was the life for me, I was going to become a trapper, a man of the woods.

Returning to the cabin my brother got the fire going in the wood stove and opened up a couple cans of corned beef hash.  He said after supper we would skin the beavers and the fox.  

We had stayed a Steve's camp for almost an hour, enjoying the cake, swapping trapping stories and finding out that he knew our Grand parents by way of his grand parents that lived about five miles from ours.  What a day, I was sure it couldn't get any better than this!!!  

Until next time, keep the fire going.

David Book

A Coon Hunt in Southern Ohio (HTT Vo.18, Issue 5)

A COON HUNT IN SOUTHERN OHIO.

This hunt which I am about to relate took place Novemher 17, 1908. It was just after an electric storm on said date that I decided to try my coon dog recently purchased. My cousin, who lives a few miles north of here had been telling of seeing so many coon tracks coming and going from Stonellck Creek, seeking water, for we have never experienced such a drought in Ohio before.

 I hitched to the buggy and started for my cousin's, seven miles distant. On arriving there I found that he was just as anxious as I was, so we, four In number, J. Soth, H. D. Conner, S. E. Crossnickle and myself, started for the big woods. Just before reaching the forest my dog gave a yell that almost sounded like a panther and started toward the timber, and we in pursuit.
 Some of you brother hunters may imagine how many falls we got In that race, but I cannot. We were almost run down when he barked treed, and we were pleased to think that it was not a fox, as we supposed. We all hurried to the tree and found It to be a big sugar, but no coon was on the outside.

 We had noticed a hole just above the first limb so I decided to "coon" it up to the hole and look in, but when I got up there I found the tree hollow clear to the ground.
 We didn't have an axe so the boys got to hunting around the tree and found a little decayed place and commenced cutting a hole with their pen knives, and I didn't like the idea of climbing down without seeing Mr. Coon, but the boys couldn't get a hole through the tree so I got down and picked up the old shot gun and three shots rang out on the night air and a hole was thru the tree. We tried to smoke him out but failed.

 Just at that moment two more hunters came to us and wanted to know what we had treed. Cut that hole bigger and let the dog decide the matter, spoke one of the hunters. We did so, for we had an axe to work with this time, and we knew his dog claimed to be the best in the country.
So he put his dog to the hole and he smelt and took a circle of the tree and started down through the woods. The coon had left the tree every one of the party said and started in pursuit of the supposed coon and I thought my new dogs was a fake so I followed, but my dog still stayed at the tree.

 We followed the other dog about four or five hours and he gave it up, so we all came back to the tree where we left my dog, and he was still there. My cousin decided to settle the matter, so he climbed up and told us to hand him a Are brand. We gave him one, and as soon as he ran It up In the tree Mrs. Coon pops out. A fight took place in which my dog was the winner, and three more peeped their heads out of the same hole but fell dead before my cousin's pistol.
We started for home just at the break of day with four coons, three opossum, six skunk. The old she coon weighed 32 lbs , the biggest one that I ever saw In Southern Ohio.

-John Stouder, Warren Co., Ohio.

*from the February 1909 Issue of the Hunter Trader Trapper magazine