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By E. J. DAILEY
I DON'T know what I am going to do Tom. The mill is going to shut down next week, and I will be out of work. Money is scarce with us. Guess we will all be in the poorhouse before spring if something don't turn up." The foregoing were the words of Fred Tromley, a youth of about fifteen years of age, who lived in a small town in northern New York state.
Our young friend was the oldest of a family of seven. His father had died a year previous, and as his health had been poorly for some time before his death, the doctor's bill and other expenses had used up all the little bank account, which had been put aside for a rainy day. After his death the family were left to their own resources. Fred got a job in a saw mill, and with what his mother made by sewing they had been able to keep the wolf from the door, but now the mill was going to close on account of shortage of raw material, and as the time was late in the fall, farm work was over, and no other work was available.
"Why don't you try trapping?" said his chum Tom Hilburn, to whom the words at the opening of this story was addressed. "I know some boys who made a lot of money last fall just catching skunks and muskrats," added Tom.
"Well," said Fred, "I don't know a thing about trapping. I have always wanted to get out in the woods to hunt and trap, but I've never had time. Seems like I've been working ever since I was born, and besides I haven't got the money to buy traps and things with."
"I've got an idea," said Tom. "You know Len Briggs who buys fur. He has got a big bunch of traps hanging in his barn that he used to set out before he went to buying fur. I'll bet that you can borrow them. Let's go right over."
The boys went over, and as luck would have it, Mr. Briggs was at home and after interviewing him in regard to the traps, he offered to lend them to Fred or sell the lot, consisting of about 100 for $10.00. There were No. 1's for the skunk and muskrat up to a few double spring 3’s for a chance fox.
He told Fred that he need not pay for them until he sold his fur, and that if he did not make good that he could bring them back, and there would be no charge.
The traps were all in good condition as Mr. Briggs had greased them all with skunk fat before putting them away, so Fred decided to buy them, and with the help of Tom he carried the traps all home. There was a small hunting axe went with the traps, and Mr. Briggs loaned Fred his .22 rifle which he used to shoot trapped animals and other game with. As the trapping season was just in, Fred gave up his job at the mill, and went to work at his new vocation. His mother did not believe that he could make any money at trapping, but she gave her consent, knowing that Fred would do his best.
The following morning found him out looking for signs of furbearers. Mr. Briggs had given him a few pointers, and told him the best sections to operate in. But the first stream showed lots of competition and would probably have discouraged some. Traps were set in every conceivable position, evidently for muskrats. Some were placed in paths, some under trees bordering on the bank, and some just dropped down in the edge of the water or on the edge of the bank.
The outlook was anything but favorable here so Fred went down stream. The sun was shining bright, and upon looking in the stream at the foot of an old tree he saw a hole, evidently leading back under the roots. It was about three feet under water and appeared to be worn smooth by some animal passing in and out. Fred could not reach the mouth of the den with his arm so he wired the ring of the trap to a stone and lowered it near the hole. He then placed the trap in position with the aid of a forked stick that lay nearby.
Farther down the stream were more traps, so Fred started over the ridge towards another stream which Mr. Briggs said was a good one for muskrats, and where competition was not so liable to be so plenty on account of it being farther from town. Up at the corner of a rail pile was a hole in the ground, and after examining it carefully for signs, Fred decided that some animal occupied it. Grass was pulled near the mouth, and dragged down in the den. On the sharp point of a root, which protruded from the side of the hole, was a bunch of black fur. There were also tracks in the soft dirt far down in the den.
Fred set a trap here, fastening it by driving a stick through the ring and into the ground. Over at the stream things looked better. No traps were to be seen and sign looked much better. At different places were piles of chewed roots, and our young friend set a trap at the edge of each of these, fastening them in the same way that he fastened the skunk traps. Every few rods were paths leading back to a neighboring oat field, and in each of these he also placed a trap a few feet back from the shore. He was making many mistakes, but never mind, we all had to learn by experience.
At one place a marsh lay back from the stream a few hundred rods, which was connected by a small ditch or outlet. In the middle of this ditch was a small trench about six inches wide worn smooth, evidently by swimming rats. Fred shoved a pointed stick down at each side of the trench, and placed a trap between them. He now went up to the marsh but the water was deep, and as he had no high boots he could not get out far, however, he could see rat houses as thick as hay cocks in a farmer's meadow, and mentally resolved to visit this place again with a pair of high boots on his feet.
Our friend now decided to work towards home, so started across country. At the edge of a cornfield were numerous trails made by some animal that was feeding on the corn; in fact there was chewed corn along both sides of the trails. Fred thought this must be the work of coons, so he set one of his double spring traps, carefully covering same with dry leaves and grass and fastening it to a large beech limb, which was to serve as a drag.
The way now led through a large woods, and along the edge were a flock of partridges which flew up at Fred's approach. He didn't bring the rifle with him on account of the fact that he was loaded down with traps. So there was no chance to capture any of these birds. A grey squirrel frisked across the path ahead of him and ran into its den in a hollow basswood tree. "I'll bet I bring the rifle next trip," thought Fred, "for with beefsteak at forty cents a pound a few of these boys will come in handy."
There were a few dens in the woods, but as the wind was blowing they were pretty well filled with leaves; however, Fred set a few traps in them just on general principles. One big tree over in the middle of the woods attracted our friend's attention. The bark was torn off one side of it, and upon close observation he could see that a limb was broken off and that it was hollow. He set two double spring traps at the foot of it, and as it was now getting late in the day he started for home.
He couldn't sleep much that night for anticipating his next morning's catch, and what sleep he did get was mixed up with dreams of skunk, coon, and muskrat.
The cock had not yet crowed when our friend Fred crawled out of his bed and after partaking of a hasty breakfast and wrapping up a lunch he set out. The weather was much colder and it had been raining, but this didn't dampen the ardor of our young trapper friend.
Arriving at the first trap, the one in deep water, he found that the water had raised and that he could not see the bottom. . But he was bound to overcome all obstacles, so he got a pole and at last hooked the chain and upon pulling up the trap was rewarded by seeing a big rat held by a hind leg. • He was under water and died without a struggle. Fred knew that even a rat was worth one or two dollars. This in itself was more than he had earned in a day at the mill.
Up at the corner of the rail pile something was doing. Grass and dirt was torn up within the length of the trap chain and the trap was now pulled back in the hole. Fred had the rifle but he couldn't see anything to shoot. "Now if I had only fastened the trap to a light pole I could have whatever it is and shoot it," thought he, "but as it is I got to go right up and yank it out at close quarters; so here goes." He now gave a pull on the chain that brought to light the rear part of a skunk, which immediately started a gas attack. "Holy Moses!" said Fred and quickly beat it. The skunk now pulled back in the den. "Well, this skunk has got to be removed," thought Fred. So he got a long pole, and after carefully removing the chain of the trap from the stake he fastened it with the staple to the pole. He could now pull and still be out of the danger zone, and soon he had the skunk (a big white one) pulled from the den and immediately gave it a pill from the little .22.
Over at the next rat stream two of the traps that were set at the chewed roots showed that a rat had been caught, but had wound the chain around the stick with which the trap was fastened until it became solid and both had escaped by twisting off a front leg. "Something wrong here," thought Fred, and after doing some thinking he reset the trap in the following manner: First he fastened the trap out as far as the chain would allow in deep water. He then stuck another stake about a foot from the first so that when the rat went around the farthest stake he could not get back and would drown.
The trap in the run between the marsh and stream had a toenail in it. "Guess it was in too deep water," thought our trapper friend, so he cut a piece of sod and put it under the trap raising it to within a couple of inches from the top.
The trap which he set in the path leading to the cornfield had a grey squirrel in it. "Now I know what made those trails," thought our friend. "Anyway you must be fat so home you go for supper," thought he.
Over in the woods he got a nice short stripe skunk. This one was caught by a front foot so he did not get scented. However he took the precaution to fasten all the skunk traps according to his new method. The traps at the tree were not disturbed, so Fred now went home, tired but happy.
After a hearty supper (His mother thought he would never stop eating), he went out and stretched his furs. His chum Tom came over and helped. The skunk hides were stretched on a pointed half-inch board, and the rat on a shingle, according to Mr. Briggs' instructions. After stretching they took a dull knife and scraped off all the superfluous flesh and fat.
Next day the muskrat traps turned out better, three rats were caught and all drowned. Our friend now felt like a regular trapper.
Fred had a little spare time on his hands and thought he would investigate a swamp that lay near his former trapping ground, and after arriving at same, found a small stream running through it, and at one place where there was mud were the tracks of some animal which looked like kitten tracks, except that there were only two tracks in a place.
Fred thought they must be mink tracks and so followed them up until he found where they took the water at the end of a projecting log. Here he set a trap, being careful not to disturb anything, as he had always heard that mink were suspicious and hard to catch.
Down the stream farther were some more tracks. Some animal with tracks not unlike that of a small child's had crossed on a log. "Guess that must be an old coon's track," said Fred to himself and made a set by chopping out a piece of the log, and after placing the trap in position leveled it up with moss. He spent so much time .in the swamp that he did not have time to look at the rest of his traps so went home.
That night it snowed and the following morning there was six inches of it. Fred now thought that his prospects would stand a pair of rubber boots, so he bought a pair of high ones, and was off. The snow made it impossible to find all the rat traps, but one that he did find contained a rat.
Over on the ridge where he caught his first skunk were some tracks, evidently made after the snowfall. They looked some like cat tracks only they were much closer together. Our young friend followed them up and after much turning and twisting ended up at a stone pile, where he set a No. 1 trap.
When he got near the mink set Fred saw some partly filled tracks leading towards the trap, and rushed up expecting to see a mink, but the tracks showed that the mink took the water too far out, so he moved the trap out and placed a stick in such a position that the next trip around the mink would have to step in the trap. There was nothing in the rest of the traps so Fred went home somewhat disheartened.
But that night it turned warm and rained a little. Fred didn't know it but it was an ideal night for game to move. Next morning the rat traps yielded six rats, three at some traps that he set on the edge of some rat houses the day previous, with the aid of his new boots, two at feeding places and one in a hole. Under the stone pile was a fine star black skunk. The mink trap held a small dark mink, and the coon trap on the log was gone drag and all, but a plain trail showed and after following it up for a while a big coon was located in a clump of bushes where he got tangled up. On the way home he got another skunk. A coon had been caught at the den tree, but unfortunately had gotten away, leaving a lot of fur and a toenail. That night Fred figured that he had caught fifty dollars' worth of fur on this trip and felt like a millionaire.
Trapping continued to be good until it got so cold that most animals ceased to move, though the little white weasel continued active, and quite a few of these little animals were added to the collection by placing a piece of bait in a shaded spot and setting a small trap beside it.
One morning a farmer came to Fred and said that a fox had visited his farm the night previous and killed some fat fowl. He told Fred that if he could catch him that he would give him five dollars besides the pelt of the fox. Now our young friend had never trapped for fox, but he had been so successful at other lines of trapping that he decided to make the effort. So he want over, taking two of his best double springs with him. Part of the fowl had been only partly eaten, and Fred concealed his traps in the feathers close by, but that night the fox came back and after circling the traps, as his tracks showed, he killed another hen. Fred now noticed where Mr. Fox crawled through a nearby fence to gain access to the poultry house, and here he made another set, and as luck would have it, a light snow came covering the trap and upon visiting the set the following morning an angry snarling fox awaited him.
Fred now went after fox and after some difficulties succeeded in landing two more, both in blind sets, as his first experience proved that these were best.
He caught quite a few prime rats in the spring and after selling his fur found that besides keeping the family, there was still money left, which he put in the bank. Also the outdoor life made him much stronger and healthier.
Hunter-Trader-Trapper. October: 1921,
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