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By Robert Woodin (son of Curley the Trapper).

Although not a subscriber to your valuable magazine, my father, who is a noted hunter, trapper and guide, is a subscriber and he says it is a very good magazine. (I find he is quite right, because when you are alone for a couple of days away back from civilization its many interesting stories pass the time away very rapidly).

Now to get down to my story: My native home is in Osceola County, Michigan, but I thought a few weeks in the North woods would be just the thing. So I packed my suitcase and took the 3.15 train for Ludington. I arrived at about six o'clock. I went on the boat immediately and the next morning at seven o'clock found me safe in Milwaukee. The night train carried me through to Republic. I found my father waiting for me. We left for our camp next morning. It was only about seventeen or eighteen miles out there. (Yes, we arrived there; but my gasoline was running low, and if I had gone another mile I certainly would have blown out a tire; but after a lunch and rest we were O. K.).

The time passed very fast. The bird season opened. Soon the deer season was open. (And then such fun). A gentleman from Chicago came up for a few days. He made friends with the squirrels, chipmunks and mice. But he did not want to hunt the deer. So he went back to Chicago without any big game.

I left camp early one morning (about November 26) for a big deer runway about one mile from camp. I found a fallen balsam to sit on and I could watch both runways. I had been there about an hour when I saw something coming. I pulled my little .38-55 on it and waited. I supposed it was a couple of deer. But, holy ginger snaps 1 Here come a pack of six big timber wolves. Crack! Down goes the leader. Crack! Crack!! Down goes the next one. But he jumps up and is gone. The first one is up and starts toward me. Crack! And he is down for good ($35.00). I cut a stick and put it in his gambrels and pulled him to the road, then towards home. I had gone down the road about seventy yards. And Crash! Well, what met my gaze was some- thing unusual. There was as nice a buck as could be. I dropped the wolf and threw the gun on the deer. Crack ! Away he goes. Crack! I followed him a ways. But I had missed him at about sixty feet. (I do not know if it was buck fever or wolf fever). But what did I care I had go-. a big wolf to-day. I will get my deer to-morrow.

The afternoon was spent in looking for the wounded wolf. I paunch-shot him. He bled some. To-morrow we will go and find him if there is not too much snow. Those were the first wild wolves I had ever seen. And dad says it is very seldom a person gets a shot at one. Well, I would just as soon got another.

Osceola County, Michigan

Fur, News. Fur News, January 1916.

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