CHAPTER IX
SNOWBOUND
All that night the storm raged and in the morning the snow was stillfalling. Pat and Alec from force of habit were up early, but seeing thatthere would be nothing doing outside they forbore to waken the threevisitors and were not averse to returning to their blankets for a coupleof hours of extra sleep. How long the three boys would have slept is aquestion had not Alec dropped a pan which clattered noisily. Upton pokeda sleepy face out from his bunk.
"What you fellers doing?" he demanded.
Pat grinned. "Getting dinner. Will you have some or will you wait forsupper?"
Walter felt for his watch and looked at it. Then he tumbled out in ahurry. "Hey, you fellows!" he yelled. "Are you going to sleep all day?It's eleven o'clock and Alec is cooking dinner. We've missed breakfastand----"
"My tummy, oh, my tummy!"
murmured a sleepy voice from the opposite bunk. "What you giving us? Itisn't morning yet." Hal thrust out a tousled head and blinked stupidly.
"It isn't to-morrow morning, but it will be this afternoon in about anhour," laughed Pat. "'Tis the way they do in Noo Yor-r-k, turn day intonight," he explained to Alec.
"No such thing!" protested Hal indignantly. "It isn't more'n daylightnow."
There was some foundation in fact for Hal's statement, for the littlecabin, but dimly lighted at best, was even at this late hour in a semitwilight, due to the snow that partly covered the windows; the effectwas very much that of daybreak. The odor of frying bacon, however, was apotent inducement to get up, and by the time dinner was ready the boyswere ready for it. There was considerable good-natured joshing overtheir ability to sleep and Pat warned them that if they repeated theperformance they would be taken out and dropped in a snow-bank. It hadbeen a good thing for them, however, just what they needed after theirstrenuous experience of the previous day, and beyond some stiffnessthey confessed that they never had felt better in their lives.
"What are we going to do this afternoon--start scouting for thosethieves?" Hal asked as he wiped the dishes.
Pat laughed. "Not so that you'd notice it, me bye. We're going to stayright here. The storm's not over yet, and if it keeps on I'm thinkingwe'll be buried completely. However, it looks to me as if it will breakaway shortly, and then you'll have a chance to show what good littlediggers they raise in Noo Yor-r-k."
"And in the meantime?"
"We'll enjoy all the comforts av home." Pat yawned and stretched.
"Which means, I suppose, that we'll sit around and play Simon saysthumbs up, or something like that, all the afternoon," laughed Hal.
"Perhaps ye'd like to sleep some more," suggested Alec slyly.
"And perhaps you've got another guess coming," retorted Hal. "What'sthat thing you're whittling on?"
"A stretching board for marten," replied Alec.
"What's a stretching board, and how do you use it?" Hal was allinterest.
"To stretch skins on. Dinna ye know that all skins have to bestretched?" Alec tossed the board one side and reached for another.
"Don't know a thing about trapping or furs except that Dad has promisedme a new fur coat when I get back," retorted Hal. "I'm painfully andsublimely ignorant, but willing to learn, and I have a hunch that thereare others. Suppose you elucidate the facts by way of killing time."
"Here, here! That will do for you, Hal!" cried Upton. "Your allegedpoetry is bad enough without springing anything like that. What have youbeen doing at that prep school--confabulating with the profs or flirtingwith the dictionary? Elucidate! I move, fellows, that if he springsanything more like that we throw him in the snow. I would suggest doingit anyway if his idea wasn't so good. Go to it, Alec, and tell us aboutfur."
"I dinna ken where to begin," protested Alec as he carefully rounded thesmaller of his board to a point so that it looked much like one of theshingle boats every boy knows.
"Begin with that thing you're making--stretching board, I believe youcalled it," said Hal.
"That would be holding the gun by the wrong end," protested Pat. "Thestory all happens before one of these things is needed." Pat was himselfat work on a stretching board.
"Begin with the kinds of fur, and the ways in which it is trapped, andthe life of a trapper and all that sort of stuff," suggested Upton.
"Just tell us what youse do every day and how youse live all alone andde scraps youse gets inter wid de bears 'n' things, and how youse has t'foight for life, an' pass it out hot--right off de fire."
"That's the stuff, Sparrer! That's what we want," cried Hal, aseverybody laughed. "Give us the story of trapping right off thegriddle."
"Ye dinna find anything very hot aboot a trapper's life." Alec paused inhis work to gaze reflectively into the fire. "It's mostly cold andlonesomeness and hard work. There's no fighting with the beasties worthmentioning; it's mostly fighting with storms and sometimes hunger, and astruggle with nature. I've sometimes wondered if some of the grandladies and men, too, would be so proud and take so much pleasure intheir fine furs if they knew what it has cost in suffering to man andbeastie to get them. And yet I am no complaining, laddies. Ye ken that.It's a hard life, and yet there is something aboot it that gets downinto a man and calls him, and he has to hit the trails and is no happyuntil he does.
"The fur that we get in this country is muskrat, mink, otter, marten,fox, lynx and once in a while fisher. Sometimes we get a few skunks, butnot many so far in as this. We used to get beaver, but it is against thelaw to take the beasties at any time now."
"Which is the most valuable?" Hal interrupted.
"Black or silver fox. They're worth so much they don't count. I'vetrapped ever since I was knee high to a speckled fawn and haven't takenone yet. I dinna ken what they're worth, but I've heard that more'n$2,500 has been paid for an extra prime skin."
"What makes 'em worth so much? Is it because the fur is so extra fine?"asked Upton.
"Fine nothing!" Pat broke in. "If there is any poorer wearing fur thanfox I wish you'd show me. A large prime red fox will bring only fourdollars to perhaps six or seven in a year when fur is scarce and high,and the fur of a black fox isn't any different or better. All thatdifference in price is because once in a blue moon Nature gets tired ofred and tries black for a change, and people with more money than brainspay the price because it is rare and they can wear something that mightyfew others can have. It's fox, just the same, and it will wear out justas quickly as if it were common every-day red. It's a fad. But thesaints defind us from any more brains till afther we have the hide avthe black gintleman thot Jim and Alec have seen here in the Hollow!"
"Money does talk, doesn't it, Pat?" chuckled Hal. "Here's hoping you getboth the fox and the long price. By the way, what's a cross fox?"
"The prettiest baste in the woods," returned Pat promptly. "He hasblack legs and underparts, black tail with white tip, and gray head andbody with a dark cross on the shoulders. But he's just a sport of thered fox, a variation in between the red and black. A perfect specimen isworth a lot of money, but nowhere near what a black will bring. Betweenthe red and all black there are a lot of variations of the cross, andthe price varies accordingly. But let's get back to regular fur insteadof freaks. Have you looked over that price list I brought in, Alec?"
Alec nodded. "I see otter and fisher are quoted just the same, $15 forNo. 1 prime. I think the two otter and the fisher we've got will gradethat all right. Up here," he continued, turning to the boys, "marten payus best because they bring us from $6 for No. 2 to $12 for large No. 1prime and some years more than that. Lynx pay pretty nearly as well,when we can get 'em. The trouble is we don't get enough of 'em. We getsome foxes and some mink. The latter are rather down now, but some yearsthey are high and pay right well. Last and least, but like the penniesthat make the dollars, are the muskrats. They're bringing only thirtycents now, but I have seen 'em as high as a dollar.
"In other parts of the country are other furs. Coon disna get up as faras this, and Arctic and blue fox dinna get
as far south. We get someweasel which when pure white is quite worth the trouble of skinning,little as the critters are. Ye ken it is the ermine of royalty."
"How about bearskins? I suppose they are worth considerable," saidWalter, glancing over at Spud's prize.
"Less than ye will be thinking," replied Alec. "Yon skin is prime--andwill grade as large. What now would ye be thinking it would be bringingme from a fur buyer this minute?"
"Fifty dollars," ventured Hal.
Alec and Pat smiled. "What do you say, little doctor?" Alec turned toUpton.
Walter did some quick thinking. He had set in his own mind the samefigure Hal had given, but he had caught that smile of the two trappersand he suspected that Hal was rather wide of the mark. It didn't seempossible to him that such a beautiful great skin could be worth less,but at a venture he cut it in halves. "Twenty-five," said he.
"Knock ten off of that, and ye will be aboot right," said Alec.
"What? Only fifteen dollars for that big skin?" Hal fairly shouted.
Pat laughed outright. "That's all this year. And they never are worth agreat deal. You see, for his size even a rat is worth considerable more,and is therefore not to be despised. And when you consider the labor ofskinning a big brute like that and then packing out his hide the ratsare more to my liking if there be enough of them."
"Don't you trap for bears at all?" asked Hal. "I had figured on seeing abear trap and perhaps finding old bruin in one."
Pat smiled as he noted the look of disappointment on Hal's face. "Wedon't trap them this time of year, son, because there are none to trap;they're denned up for the winter," he explained. "But you shall have achance to see a deadfall before you go back. Alec built a couple, but itwas rather too late in the season. They'll be ready for early springwhen bears begin to move again. Then I suspect Alec will build one ortwo more, eh, Alec?"
"A couple, I guess. I've marked some likely places," was the reply.
"What about steel traps?" asked Upton. "I had an idea that most trappersused those almost altogether these days."
By way of reply Alec dragged out from under one of the bunks a clangingmass of steel. "Heft it," said he briefly, passing it to Walter.
"My, but that's heavy!" he exclaimed. "What does it weigh?"
"Nineteen pounds," replied Alec. "Tell me, how would ye like to packthree or four of those in addition to a lot of smaller traps for ten orfifteen miles?"
"Not for me!" declared Upton. "I begin to see the why of the deadfalls.It's easier to build a few of those than to lug these heavy thingsaround. I didn't suppose they were as heavy as this. Are all of 'em likethis?"
"No, there are some that weigh only a little over eleven pounds, butthose are for small bars. I don't no ways favor 'em myself because, yeken, I never yet have found a way of being certain what size bar wouldbe stepping in one, leastways not until he was caught. A big feller willsometimes get out of the smaller trap, but a little feller never getsout of the big trap. So I sets only the big ones. This is a No. 5, andbig enough for any bars around these parts. There's a bigger one madefor grizzly bar and lions and tigers and such like critters, but thatweighs forty-two pounds. We've got two of these No. 5's to set in thespring. If I was in good bar country, where the critters are plenty, I'duse more of these, but as long as they ain't plenty and I'm after otherfur I'd rather use the deadfall. In the first place it kills thecritter, and if he's caught you know right where to find him. He's rightthere. But if he gets caught in one of these things he may be a coupleof hundred yards away and he may be in the next county, which is mightyinconvenient, 'specially if ye've got a lot of traps to tend to."
"How's that? I thought you fastened the traps." Hal was plainly puzzled.
"Sure we fasten 'em," returned Alec, "but do ye no see that if it was toanything solid like a tree the critter would be breaking the trap orthe chain, maybe, or tearing himsel' loose? So we cut a log small enoughat one end for the ring on the end of the chain to just barely slip overit and down to the middle where it is fastened with a spike. The clog issix or seven feet long and of hard wood. Then when Mr. Bar gets caughthe has nothing solid to pull against to tear himself free. He marchesoff with nineteen pounds of trap and the clog dragging from his foot.The clog catches in the brush and between trees and usually he disna getvery far, because the heavy drag tires him. Besides that, every timehe's pulled up short it must hurt like the mischief and take the heartout of him. Sometimes we find where he has stopped to fight the clog.Once in a while a swivel breaks or something else gives way and he getsrid of the clog, but still has the trap fast to his foot. Then he'slikely to dig out for parts unknown. I've known a trapper to camp two orthree nights on the trail of a bar that had gone off with a trap beforehe could catch up with the critter. Mostly they will go a ways and thenmake a bed, lie down a while, get uneasy and move on to do the samething all over again. Sometimes they won't lie in the bed after they'vemade it, but move on and try again."
Sparrer's eyes were bulging. "Do youse mean dey really make a bed sameas us?" he asked.
"Surest thing you know," replied Pat. "When a bear dens up for thewinter he makes himself comfortable. Does it when he's traveling, too.Don't know how he got wise to the danger of rheumatiz from sleeping onthe bare ground, but he seems to be on all right. Breaks a lot of brushand makes a regular bough bed. Sometimes he uses rotted wood when it ishandy and brush isn't. Oh, he's a wise proposition, is Mr. Bear. If heonce gets nipped in a trap and gets away it is a smart trapper who canget him in another."
Meanwhile Hal had been examining the trap and trying to force down thesprings. "I'm blessed if I see how you set one of the things," said heat last.
"I'll show ye, only when it's set ye want to keep away from it. It'smore dangerous than a bar himsel'."
He brought forth two screw clamps and adjusted them to the doublesprings of the traps. By turning thumb-screws the springs werecompressed and held so that the jaws of the trap could be opened and thepan set to hold them. The boys noticed that in doing this he worked fromunderneath, sure sign of the careful and experienced trapper. In theevent of the clamps slipping there would be no chance of his hand or armbeing caught in the jaws.
"How does the bear get caught?" asked Sparrer, to whom traps were anunknown quantity.
"By stepping on that pan," explained Pat. "I'll show you."
He removed the clamps and then with a long stick touched the pan.Instantly the jaws flew up and closed with a vicious snap, biting intothe soft wood so that pull as they would the boys were unable to get thestick out.
"Huh!" exclaimed Hal, "I'd hate to have that thing get me by the leg! Ishould think it would break the bone."
"It very likely would unless your leg was pretty well protected. Abear's bones are not so brittle and do not break easily, but once thatthing has got a grip it's there to stay," said Pat.
"I suppose you cover the trap up so that the bear won't see it,"ventured Upton.
"Right, son. That is just what we do," replied Pat. "We cover it withleaves or moss, according to where the set is made."
"Where does the bait go?" inquired Hal. "Do you put it right on the trapor hang it over it?"
"Neither," laughed Pat. "We build a bait pen of brush or old logs,roofing it over, and set the trap just at the entrance in such a waythat Mr. Bear must step in it in order to get into the pen or cubbywhere the bait is staked at the rear. Sometimes we lay a stick acrossthe entrance close to the trap and six or eight inches from the groundso that the bear will try to step over it and in doing so he will besure to put one foot in the trap. An old bear who has lost a toe or twoin a trap and so has learned his lesson will sometimes tear the bait pendown from the rear and so get the bait. A deadfall is about the only wayof catching one of that kind."
"I should think other animals would spring the trap," ventured Hal.
"They do sometimes, especially your friend Prickly Porky the porcupine,"replied Pat. "But when we are after bear we try to set the trap so thatnothing less t
han a bear will spring it. Show 'em the trick, Alec."
Good-naturedly Alec once more set the trap. Then he took a small springystick and fastened it upright in a crack in the floor. Then he bent itover until the other end was hooked under the pan of the trap. Thespring of it held the pan in place even when considerable weight wasplaced directly on the pan. "That would allow small animals to pass overit freely, ye see," he explained, "but the weight of a bar would springit. We do the same thing with other traps, using smaller sticksaccording to what we are after."
At this point Pat went to investigate conditions outside. "Hi, youfellows!" he called. "Storm's over, and it's time to get busy and digout. It's been raining, but it's clearing off cold, and by morningthere'll be a crust that'll hold a horse. Walt, you and Hal know wherethe spring is, so you fellows make a path down to it. The rest of uswill shovel out the wood-pile and the storehouse."
"What's the storehouse? There wasn't anything of that kind last fall."Hal was all eagerness.
"Just a bit of a log shack we put up to keep the meat and supplies in.You'll see it when you get outside. Now, everybody to wor-r-rk!" Patflung the door open. A wall of snow faced them.
Alec produced a home-made wooden shovel and an old iron one. With thesehe and Pat soon cleared a space in front of the cabin. Then the others,armed with snow-shoes and an old slab, went to work with a will and soonSmugglers' Hollow rang with the laughter and shouts of the merry crew.It was not far to the spring, and the task of digging out and tramplingdown a path was not difficult. When they finished Walter and Hal turnedfor their first good look at the surroundings. It was a wilderness ofwhite broken only by the thin column of smoke from the cabin chimney,and the figures of their comrades busy at the wood-pile and storehouse.The cabin itself was nearly buried in snow, which was more thanhalf-way to the low eaves. It had drifted quite over the little shackwhere Pat and Alec were at work. All tracks had been obliterated and fora few minutes it was difficult for them to get their bearings, sochanged was the landscape. Then one by one they picked out the landmarksthey had learned to know so well in the fall, but which now were sochanged as to be hardly recognized.
They stood in silence, something very like awe stealing over them as thegrim beauty, combined with pitiless strength, of the majestic sceneimpressed itself upon them.
"Just think of a man living here all alone for weeks at a time. That'swhat I call nerve. I believe I'd go dippy in a week," murmured Halhardly above a whisper as if he were afraid to trust his voice in thegreat solitude.
"And yet there is something fascinating about it. I can feel the call ofit myself," replied Upton. "I suppose when one gets used to it it isn'tso bad. It's--it's--well, I suppose it's what you would call elemental,and there is something heroic about this battling with the very hillsand elements to wrest a living from them. Hello! Pat's calling us."
They hurried back to the cabin, where Pat promptly shoved a pail intothe hands of each and ordered them back to the spring for water. Whenthey returned Alec had begun preparations for supper.
"This evening," announced Pat, "Alec will finish his yarn about trappingand then we'll plan for to-morrow. Will you fellows have baking-powderbiscuit or corn bread for supper?"
"Corn bread!" was the unanimous shout.
"Corn bread it is then," declared Pat. "And how will yez have themurphies?"
"French fried!" cried Hal.
"Yez be hearing the orders av the gintle-min--corn bread and Frenchfried praties, Misther Cook," said Pat, turning to Alec. "I'll be mixingthe corn bread whoile ye cut the spuds. The rest av yez can bring inwood and set the table, an' the wan who loafs most gets the least toeat."
At once there was a grand scramble to see who could do the most, in viewof such a dire threat.
The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp Page 10
