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PREFACE, _ FER the publicatioa cf my recent work, A “_ Frontier and Indian Life,— a young but observing class of readers and inquirers, felt a little disappointed, that I did not go more into details about the habits of fur bearing animals, and the methods employed in en- trapping them. This with a knowledze that fora long number of years [had followed the vocations of trapper and wolfer in a profes- sional way, and must necessarily be familiar with the subjects to be treated. In sending forth this little book after its companion one, I have, therefore, endeavored to supply the omission, by giving some ac- count of a hunter’s, trapper’s and wolfer’s life, as I observed and experienced it; written somewhat in a crude form of a rambling nar- rative covering a record of the doings of many of those years; interspersed with some notings of the prin-sip ul fur beir.nz anim ils of the country, and the methods used in en- snaring and Cestroying them; also. some fur- ther accounts of the doings anil undoings of my Indian neighbours. TED WOODS, OPS THE, PAIN q AKI — CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Spirit Lake and the Little Sioux River-—Ink- paduta the Outlaw Chief. Kt CHAPTER II. Santee Sioux Outbreak of 1862—Valley of the Little Sioux in 1863—An ‘‘Official’? Wild Turkey Hunt. | 19 CHAPTER. It. An Autumn Trap on Mill Creek 1865—Trap- per’s Outfit—The Start—Meet a Winneba- * goe Chief—A Scare—Mink Leading Fur of the Season. 26 CHAPTER IV. More About the Autumn Trap on Mill Creek _—Mink Trapping—Minister of the Gospel in Bad Business—A Fur “Dealer’s ‘* Round tips | 34 CONTENTS. CHAE ERR: Ve The Final Trap on Mill Creek—A Spring ‘‘Set Out’’—Trapper Hawthorne—‘‘Calling”’’ the Beaver—Lost on the Prairie—Inkpaduta’s Sons. 4] CHAR TRB. About Beavers. 51 CHAPTER VII. Along the Elkhorn River—Beaver ‘‘Up to Trap’’—Camping Among the Wild Plums An EKik Hunt—A‘ Clean Burn out. 59 CHAPTER VIII. Wolfers and Wolfing. 69 CHAPTER IX. On the Loup Fork of Platte River—Pawnee Indians as Guests—Bloody Trail—Baiting the Mink—Hunters and Trappers as Dreamers. 75 CHAPTHRexX. Otter and Otter Trapping—A Mid-Winter Trap on Shell Creek. 82 CONTENTS. CHAPTER ER ct: “Old Dakota.’’ 87 , CHAPTER XIE “Signing Up’ the Niobrara—Paper Towns for Kas’ero l[ovestors—A Beautiful Pros- pect—The Poncas, 93 CHAPTER XIII. Badgers, Raccoons, Skcenks and Muskrats, and how to Trap them. } 105 CHAPTER: XLV. Trapping at Painted Woods Lake, Heart River, and Apple Creek in North Dakota in L371. 114 CHA PTHE XV. Eagles and Eagle Trapping. 123 CHAPTER XVI. Wolfing and Trapping Around the Upper White Earth Country—Smart Beaver Again—Vic Smith asa Dime Novel Hero. 129 CHAPTER:X VIL. Lake Mandan—The Last Winter Hunt—An Ice Gorge on the Missouri—Destruction of the Deer—Lost Indian Boy. 135 CHAPTER XVIII. At the Painted Woods. 144 ILLUSTRATIONS, A Trapped Coyote, Lake of the Painted Woods, Massacre at the Spirit Lake, Santee Sioux Chief Little Crow, Sioux Chief Rain in the Face, A Beaver, Long Dog the Trapper Killer, Lake Mandan in Summer, Lawyer Farley the White Owl Trapper, Lon, Soldier the Trapper Scarer. TWENTY YEARS ON THE TRAP LINK, CHAPTER I. Svirit Lake and the Little Sioux River— Inkpaduta the Outlaw Chief. N northwestern Jowa, near what was ] ener known asthe Dog Plains, lies the largest inland body of water in that State. It still bears its original Indian name of Spirit Lake, or as sometimes interpreted, ‘‘the lake where spirits dwell.” It is beautifully loca- tod year the southern part of this almost im- perceptible plateau, and although somewhat prenilar in shape, the primitive groves of cottonwood and oak that once lined the back- ground of its pebbly beach, made it a view of such romantic and striking picturesqueness as to early make farnous this watery domicile of the ghosts. This Lake was the eirly home of the Mde- wakontons one of the four groups of the Santees, the supposed parent stock of the 12 TWENTY YEARS Sioux or Dakota nation of Indians. But in- cessant wars with the Omahas of the west Missouri River country and the Iowas of the lower Des Moines River, with their confeder- ates, made the tenor of life so insecure to the Mdewakontons that they gave up that section as permanent residence, and made camp with their brothers along the rivers of what is now western Minnesota. From the southern shore of the Spirit Lake pours out a small stream that forms the Enah wakna or Stone River of the Sioux, the Petite Riviere des Sioux or Little Sioux River of the early French traders, by which latter appella- tionit is naw known, But a few yards in width as it comes from tho Lake, it gathers volume asit meanders along for one hundred and twenty miles ina south western course where it mingles its waters with these of the wide Missouri. This river like its fountain head was once studded with groves of tall cottonwood along the bends of the lowlands, while on the great, curved lines of the wplands with a northern — exposure, groves ef hardwood forests stood facing the outward plain. They had defied the withering and scorching blasts of the annual ON Ah TRAP. GIN. 13 fires from the prairies and stubbornly held their own against evey element of destruc- tion, even in acount by centuries. Notwithstanding the fact that the Santees had ceased to permanently occupy the land around the Lake they still claimed the right of possession, and their right was so respected by the General Government, that in a treaty with them August 5th, 1851, recognized the claims of the Mdewakontons and Wapekuta bands and promised ta pay them for their relinquishment of the Lake and the Little Sioux Valley as well. Some time previous to this treaty, in a local feud among the Wrpekuta Santees, the chief, Tosagi, was slain by some discontents of his tribe. The leador of the chief’s murderers, Inkpaduta or the Red Point, a man of some prominence, whose friends and relatives gathered about him to share his punish- ment, that of banishment and outlawry. Inkpaduta and his little band betook them- selves fearlessly to the Little Sioux Valley, and occupied a section of country that the whole Sioux nation had herctofore regard- ed, at best, a perilous fronticr. But with his handful of eleven warriors and their re- 14 TWENTY YEARS spective families they moved southward making their first hunting camp on the stream now called Mill creek, nearly opposite the*present city of Cherokee. Inkpaduta was at this time represented as an Indian somewhat deceptive in appearance, He was about forty years of age, of medium height, rather spare in build, his voice soft and undertoned; his eyes weak, and near sighted; his face badly pitted with small pox and his whole make-up had the showing of an HarAbIS: i-used mendicant, and gava little promise cf the man whose infiu- ence and action in the near futare should in- volve such widespread ruin on both frend and foe. He had counseled against transfermg their lands to the whites and refused to be bound by tho treaties made for this purpose. He had doggedly determined to re-occupy the Little - Sioux Valley and hold it. With true diplo- matic skill he made a truce with the Qmahas, and as an honored guest became an occasional partaker at their savory feasts. Indeed, such a favorable impression did the out- lawed and beegarly looking chieftam make oa the susceptinie hearts of his witom in- ON THE TRAP LINE. 15 tertainers that himself and band were en- joined to make winter camp at the mouth of Maple river a neighboring stream, one of the lower branches of the Little Sioux, and with- in an easy days ride of the village of the Omahas. During the years 1855-6, and the summer of 757, some of the finest sections of land in the Little Sioux Valley were located upon by settlers from Ohio, Illinois and other States east. The settlement of Smithland along the lower part of this valley, was started one of the earlier of these years. It was, as the name implies, founded by cf one the branches of the numerous family bearing that name. Tho settlement was located principally on the west side of Little Sioux river and but a few miles north of Inkpaduta’s camp on the river Maple. A distrustful feeling, almost from first con- tact, grew up between the settlers and the In- dians, culminating some time late in Novem- ber 1857, in one of the settiers charging some of the Indians with stealing about one bushel of corn from his crib. ‘he aceusation was stoutly denied by the 16 TWENTY YEARS Indians who claimed a want of motive, inas- much as their generous friends the Omahas had liberly supplied them with that cereal. Some evidence was afterwards adduced to show. that the charge was really a trumped one, and that the actual cause a jealousy on the part of some of the settlers against the red iaen about the game along the streams in the noighborhood, as these red ontluws owing t.. their great proficiency in the art had often Leon dubbed the “Trapping [adtans,”’ Therefore, carly in December, a posse of the Smmithiand people after some prelininary organization marched in a body to Inkpadu- ta’s camp and after making a surround and closing in on the wondering and surprised In- dians. proceeded. at once to disarm them, and with violent gpestulations, ordered them in the emphatic dialect of the bordermen to ‘4; Uok-a-chee.’”’ » ) Tho cutawed chief made an earnest pro- test against such action of his white neiyh- Lors, and in a dispationate tone called their attention to his people’s hapless fate in being deprived of their guns, which were tilmioat tie only moans.of obtaining food for their isgoa dont familias, ON THE TRAP LINE. 17 He also prophesied a cold winter coming upon them, as unthawed snow was laying deep upon the ground. As far as the weather was concerned tho chiefs predictions came to pass. The winter that followed is yet re- forred to by old Iowans as the “hard winter.’’ Inkpaduta’s remonstrance had been in vain. With almost noiseless celerity the little band struck lodges and were off. Had the white trappers of the Smithland party understood “signing up’’ the dying embers of an Indians camp fire as familiarly as they did a beaver wiide, they might have at least made some attenjpt to stay the storm caused by their over-cfiicicusness. The “‘sign’’ left by the departing Indian were afew smal! uprijtht sticks placed near the embers where tho chief’s lodge stood. It would read to a party of four absent hunters, on their return, to avoid all parties cf white men, take care of their guns and join them as soon a8 possible further up the valley of the Little Sioux. The Tadisns joined forces near the Correc- tionville settlement, some thirty miles north of the mouth ef Maple rivor, where they commenced a series cf depredaiicas 18 TWENTY YEARS against the settlers stock and appropriating their fire arms when an opportunity occurred, But after Cherokee,—a settlement thirty miles north of Correctionville—was passed, the killing of the whites commenced and ended in the total destruction of the vigorous young town of Spirit Lake ‘and the exposed settle- ment at Pelican fakes, killing over sixty persons, men, women and children, carrying away with them as captives two of the most comely of the young women, who were afterwards rescued by Governinent troops scht out to punish the murderous band. Ki mma ST | Vit | | | AAT a Inkpaduta’s Band. re at Spirit Lake by J . assac M ON THE TRAP LINE. 19 CHAPTER II. Sintee Sioux Outbreak of 1862—Valley of tha Little Sioux in 18€83—An “Off- cial” Wild Turkey Hunt. commenced what proved to be the most wholesale killing of white settlers by Indians sinco the first settlement of our country. It had been generally termed the Minnesota massa- ‘cre being principally confined to that State. It was brought on by disaffected members of the lower or Mdewakonton branch of the Santee Sioux. According to the story of the surviving M:tawakontons, the act was precipitated by four disappointed, hungry hunters, two of them being a part of the survivors of Ink- paduta’s ‘‘Trapping Indians.”’ This hunting party of four returned by the way of a settlement, and nearing a farm- house, stumbled on a nost of hen eggs. Two 0° Monday morning, August 18th, 1862, £9 TWENTY YEARS of the party were in for taking and eating them, and two opposed. The result was a quarrel and smashing the eggs. They then proceeded to the house and asked for a loaf of bread. This was given to them bv - the housewife. but violently jerked from their hands by the husband, who had followed from a field’when he saw the Indians approsch the place. This exasperated them and he was in- stantly shot dead. The wife also was murdered, Four other settlers were killed near by, and the intoxicated Indians returned to their agency at Rice Creek and reported to their chief, Little Six, what they had done.” After much deliberation it was resolved that the die was cast, and early the next morning—~ being the 18th of August, us awful slaughter and holocaust began. . From the beginning of the outbreak, some of Inkpaduta’s band appeared along the Little Sioux Valley, and the destruction of the set- tlements at Jackson’s and Lake Shetek, near the upperend of that valley, and the murders: and outrages along the valléy itself was clear~ ly the work of these desperate marauders. Early in 1863, a batallion of bordermen was raised by Col, Jim Sawyer for the pretee- ON. Tih. TRAP LUNE. 21 tion of the settlers and their homes in that part of the country. A chain of fortified bastions were erected and garrisoned between Sioux City on the Missouri, and Mankat® near the junction of Blue Earth and Minne- sota Rivers. The writer of these pages made a six months enlistment as soldierin the Batallion in the month of September of that year. We were stationed at Fort White, located in the midst of the Correctionville settlement. The fort had been christened in honor of our com- pany commander, and was built in the tri- angle shape with two over topping bastions at the north and south ends. Wild game were found in abundance, and as the soldiers were kept constantly on scouting duty, great sport was afforded, and the mess room well supplied with fresh wild meats. . : Now and then a spice of danger would come to a scouting party, by the scem ingly ever-present painted and feathered forin, on some distant knoll, of one or more of Ink- - paduta’s Santees. An undying spirit of un- satisfied vengence seemed to inspire them to try and remain around the scenes of their early bo i) TWENTY: YEARS trials and triumphs as long as the spirit of bravado ruled in their unconquered and mer- ciless breasts. The principal part of the garrison at Fort White had been, before their enlistment as soldiers, old hunters and trappers, and when off post duty usually followed their old voca- tion along the neighboring streams, as pas- time. Beaver, otter, mink and muskrat were found within a short distance from the post grounds. Being an inquisitive ‘‘tenderfoot,”’ I usually sought the trappers’ company on these excursions to their baits and traps, and being a novice in the art had an im- patient yearning for the high honors of an expert. Captain White was a popular officer with both soldiers and citizens. While a good dise}- plinarian when the exigencies of the service required it, he also found time for relaxation, making garrison life less prosy than is uru- ally found at frontier posts. Sometime in November, a dressy young military coxcomb came from Iowa’s capital on a mission of some sort to the various posta garrisoned by the batallion. He wore the shoulder straps and uniform of LITTLE Crow. Leader of the Santee Sioux during the Indian outbreak in Minnesota, in 1862. Killed by a trapper August 1863. ON THE TRAP LINE. 23 a lieutenant and was aide-de-camp to the Governor, or some military dignitary at Des Moines, He was guest of the company com- mander while at our fort, and in a confiden- tiat manner unfolded to the good natured senior a burning desire to take back some _ be- wildering souvenir of his skill among the wild beasts and birds. For this purpose he had brought all the way by stage coach from the capital, a blooded dog and a high priced gun. The captain suggested as Thanksgiving was near at hand he try his skill on wild turkeys, and pointing his index finger toward a grove, remarked that the ‘‘woods was full of them.’’ The yourg officer waited for nothing more, hut girding bis hunting rig about him, gathering up his gun and whistling to his rushed off in the direction indicated. In less than an hour the gay hunter re- turned in’ drowning perspiration, with four hue turkeys, and when nearing the captain, doe -_™? extending therm at arms Jength exclaimed ex- ultingly, ‘‘this is offictal.’’ Karly the next morning, with the agility of amanof busineas, the aide-de-camp boxed up hia hig birds, and was off for the capital, but ae = ! . | hos ~¢ P, - an n * “~Y, not without thanking the good natured cap- 24 TWENTY YEARS tain for favors extended..eand inet ham te a wild turkey feast at Des Moines on Thanks- giving Day. Our commandant accepted the invita- tion, and found a gay company before a fine spread, with the young oflicer enthroned as master of ceremonies. He was recounting to a seemingly delighted, lesatwise an apprecia- tively attentive audience, the werth of his val- uable dog, and the accuracy of his ‘‘laminated steel barrels.”” Indeed, what more proof. than the well browned gobblers inthe smoking pans before them. After the dinner was over, toasts were in order and one after another recited their piece, until it came to the frontier captain’s turn who was expected to respond to the toast “Wild Turkeys.’’ He excused his inability to do justice to the occasion, as he wae no talk- er at all, and proceeded to read from a smal] scrap of paper. It was a receipt for pay- ment’ by the captain, for fcur turkeys, the property of a widow near his post, who had been dispoiled of her flock on the day the afor- mentioned young officer made his big hunt on her premises. The rage and discomfiture of the host was great and the joking cap- ON THE TRAP LINE. 25 tain was glad te put distaace between Iowa’s capital and harm to himeelf. In December an order came for the disband- ing of the Batallion to enable such as desired to enter the regularly organized regiments. Corporal Ordway ied a posse into the Fourth Jowa cavalry, but the main body was dis- charge 1. The orderly sergeant of the company, and the writer were made a special detail, and detained in the service some weeks longer when we, too, were mustered out. Having now served as a soldier with but little intermission since the day after Fort Sumpter fell, April 14, 1861, 1 now resolved to fillow in the wake of the dreams of my early boyhood—hunat for the homes and haunts of free wild Indiaus along the streams of the widetreceless and semi-desert plains, or among the gorges and canons of the eternal snow-capped mountains of the great Rocky chain. 26 TWENTY YEARS CHAPTER ITI. An Autumn Trap on Mill Creek 1865— Trapper’s Outfit—The Start—Meet a Winnebago Chief—A Scare—Mink Leading Fur of the Season, the eastern base of the Rocky Moun- tains I returned to the seclusion of the quiet little village of Correctionvulle in the Little Sioux Valley. It was in the month of Sep- tember, 1865, and as that month included the letter ‘‘r’’ the trapper’s symbol! for the open- ing of the fur season, a stir was observed A FTER nearly ayear of wandering along among the men of that calling ina preputory rush for choice game preserves. “Lime’’ Comstock one of the most expert of these trappers was now making ready. I accepted an cffer from Mr. Comesteck to accompany him as partneren a fall trap to the headwaters. cf Mill Creek, seme sixty milesnorth of the village. Cur first purchase ~ ON THE TRAP LINE. 27 Were atetin of well broke ponies, harness aud wagon; also an extra riding pony to at- tend the trap line. We then purchased a reg- ular western camp equipment, consisting of tent, cooking utensils for camp fire and about forty traps of the Oneid2 Cummunity manu- facture. About one half of the traps were number one’s or single spring. They were fastened with light chains, but sufficient to hold mink, muskrat and skunk, for which they were intended. The balance of the kit were aumbered two, three and four. The nur ver two’s were used to catch otter, foxes an’ wolves. The other numbera were used after the beaver. The three last number; ‘were double springs. The springs of all we'emade of good springy st22l with bel; and chains of durable iron. We finally made a move one bright morn- ing about the middle of the month, and when — fairly out of sight of our late rendezvous, my partner forgot his ammunition pack, but would not return fer it, avering that it would bring bad luck on him to co so. 1| took the re- sponsibility to return for him, and when near- ing the hose. the sight I had of a pale young female face throuzh the window, gav2 a re‘ 38 TWENTY YEARS minder that there were ‘other tran the super- stitious trapper who believed in the direful re- sults of the unlucky omen. At a small creek about eight miles from our starting point we unhitched our team and be- became dinner guests of Ed Haws, locally nicknamed‘‘Smuttv Bear,’ from some fancied facial resemblance to the noted Yankton chief. Haws was a wide-a-wake borderman and at one time over on the West Fork of the Little Sioux,River, headed a successful fight against Inkpadutas’s band, led by the chief’s son. They were evenly numbered—ffteen on a side: all mounted. Three Indians fell. The road after leaving ‘‘Smuity Bear’s”’ ranch, followed along the curved river, now and then passing through cottonwood and oak groves, with their beautiful varigated autumn-tinted leaves, throwing an apparent halo’on every thing around them. On entering one of these orchard looking openings, our ponies gave a sudden snort. A commanding appesring Indian, with a mel- ancholly cast of countenance, stcod by the roadside. We had met before and Il knew him. It was Little Preast the broken hearted chicf cf ike Winnebagces. He was wanderng a ON THE TRAP LINE. 29 along the river with his fanaily, camping among the groves. To all appearances, he had just walked down from a neighboring butte where he could survey the surrounding land- scape. From that pinnacle, out to the far- away blue, he could see the shadowy outlines of his former home on the Blue Earth River. From the five fingers of an extended hand, he counted the number of removels himself and tribe had passed from one reservation to another, in the vain hope of out-running and hiding from the cupidity of his pale faced brother. Though giving up his possessions as de nanded, in their rotation, with a vague hope in the equity of divine justice—that earthly possessions enda with the earthly life—‘‘that time rights all things.”’ About six miles further along the river trail, we observed a smoke curling up from a heavy patch of willows. Comstock leftme with the team, and took his gun to reconnoiter. In about half an hour he returned. He gaid the smoke was from the camp fire of the noted Trapper Hawthcrne and partner. He further saidthe trappers had ‘‘strung out a line’’ and would put in the fall montha at that place. They had just returned from ‘‘signing 30 TWENTY YEARS up’? Mill Creek, but were better pleased with their prospects at the place where we found them. In communicating these things tome, Com. stock left out a very important item—a big scare. Just the evening before, they had reached this camp after a hard drive of thirty miles, twenty miles of which they were fol- lowed, on the run, helter skelter—up hill and down, by six dismouted Indians—inkpaduta’s hostile Santees. This too from thefvery place we were now going,—the hecdwater of Mili Creek. But all this 1 learned long afterward. As we resumed cur journey. I[ ccuid net but notice the extreme watchfulness that my partner manifested at objects ahead of 18, a8 We moved oes ng the divide cn the high praries,” and partly guessed he had not told allthe news 0 hat lenrned from the two trappers. s We reached the first grcve up Mill Creek about sundown, and immecdiaty went into camp for the night. After caring for our ponies, each of us took a separate hunting bout. Comsteck returned at dusk with a nice fat buck, while my evening trophy cen- sisted ¢f a forlorn looking eld gobbler. ON THE TRAP LINE. © 31 Early the next morning we hitched up and started out to find the Second Forks, where we expected to halt and “sign up” the viciaity, Just above the Forks, to the right, stood an open grove of oak timber. As this article became more scarce as we ascended the creek we concluded to encamp there. Comstock took his gun and a few traps, while I attended to the duties of the camp. While lcoking arcund, 1 observed by the bending of the grass the marks of awagon; eand that the horses feet led down stream after making a semicircle turn. I also no- ticed while watering the ponies at a beaver dam, several moccasin tracks in the soft mud and all leading one way, viz:, In the direction the wagon had evidently taken. When Comstock returned, I informed him cf my d'scovery. He thought it might have been Hawthorne, but when reminded that trappers seldom use moccasibs in signing up a creek, he then suggestcd as an possibility that it might have been eik hunters from the. fort at Cherokee. But Trapper Hawthorne after- wards infcrmed me, it was at this very place they wer? jumped by that roving band of hostile Santees. 32 TWENTY YEARS That evening, after assisting to put out a few traps, my partner surprised me by saying that as the weather was now favorable, and traveling good, he thought he had better re- turn to Correctionville for more supplies; as he thought we might need them. So bright and early the next morning, partner and team were ratt ing over the prairie divide toward the Little Sioux Valley. He did not retura fer two months after, and then left behind him the much needed ‘‘grub box.’’ Nothing was left for me to do now but buckle down to a professional trapper’s life. Not knowing what fur was ‘‘on the lead,’’ I set out a ‘“‘diversified line.’’ But the net re- -gult seemed to bea specialty in wild ducks. Almost every morning I found a dozen or more of these fowls dead in the traps. The beaver dams; were litarally covered with them having come in from their breediag places to ‘‘rather,’’ before commencing their south- ward flight, | After three weeks of solitary life, the mon- otony was broken one day by the appearance of two horsemen. It was the corporal com- manding the fort at Cherokee, and a trapper guide. The brusque young commander soon ON THE TRAP LINE. 33 announced his Lusiness. Garrison life was so n2wnoat @rksom2, end by way of diver_ $ion from its onerous duties, and somes hope jn the profits likely to accru2 therefrom, ho; had concluded to buy furge | He assured me further, that the latest re- ports frcm the London fur sales place’ mink on the lead, and with no wish to take advant- age of my possible ignorance of the market. as astarter he would give, for good prime skins, ten dollars each, forall I had ready; and th3 latest New York fur quotations on all other prime hides and furs in my possession. With such a_ gener us offer, it is needless toadd that the aspiring fur merchant returned down the valley with my late stock of pelt- ries. 34 TWENTY YEARS - CHAPTER IV. More About the Autumn Trap cn Mill. Creek—Mink Trappine—Minister of the Gospel in Bad Buriness—A Fur Dealer’s “Round Up.” i ees fur buyer and his companion had hardly disappeared from view before I set vigorously to work re-organizing the trap line. The otter and beaver slides were at once abandoned and every available trap put along mink runaways or set at the ‘“‘baits.”’ Ten dollars for a prime mink hide. And now that the first snow in October had fallen, all furs were reckoned prime until the month of May, and beaver in this northern region held good until June. A trapper’s first lesson to learn befere ma- ingmuch of asuccess athis calling. is to"thor- oughly understand the habits of the game he is trying to catch. : A light fall of snow, followed by a calm ON THE TRAP LINE. 35 night is his most opportune time to ‘‘sign up.”’ The tracks are then fresh anc easy defined. Mink travel with a loping motion, making regular well measured jumps of from twelve to fifteen inches apart. Both fore feet as well as both hind ones, while traveling, are kept close together, the left of each foot usually, slightly in advance. The habits of the mink vary but little in any partof North America, though in the extremes, north and south, there is some dis- tinction. The fur of thedeep water aorthern rink, is almost jet black, while the southern ones are mostly of a reddish brown; the more northern, the finer the texture and thick- er the fur. For this reason all grades of northern furs lealin price in the main fur markets of the world. In seeking its food the mink often immi- tates the weasel in its throat-cutting destruc tiveness when it finds itself among a lot of. unprotected or helpless brood of young fowls or birds. But when hungry it will return to the place of its last feast, and if nothing more inviting presents themselvea will feed upon the cold carcasses of the former feast. And if this proves scant, after eating will hide TWENTY YEARS the remainder, and when a trapper is lucky enough tofind this cache,—a_ sure catch then‘offers itself to his vision, for the mink, if nothing happens it in the meantime, will again return. Young muskrats, fish and fresh water clams, ara also avery palatable feod for mink. As mink fur does not become prime even in northern latitudes, before the middle of Oc- tober the mink trapper in making water sets, should guard against a ‘‘freeze down’’ by putting his traps along the runways in the swiit running water or in a never freezing spring. In water sets for mink, the trap should not be set in the water over two or three inches deep. In winter, a good call is to a flesh bait, with a land or water set. If on land, the bait should be covered on every side except where the trap is set. This side should be exposed, and the trap set within four inches of the bait. The trap should be covered over thinly with feathers, or dry tree leaves well pulver- Snow coverings can only be made with ized. any hope of success in extreme freezing weather. In the apring, a combination of fall and ON. THE TRAP LINE. 37 winter methods are best. When a mink is caught in a water runway at this season, the scent of the trapped mink draws others; and the trap should not be changed as long as “fresh sign’’ is found in the neighbourhood When not busy with the traps or stretching and prererving the skins andfurs, I found time to erect and fix up acomfortable cabin for fall quarters; with some little idea of de- fense, in case of being correlled by some stray war party. After Comstock’s departure, my company consisted of two young fox hounds and the camp pony. A distemper shortly after killed the dogs, leavlng me alone with the faithful little nag. I often clambered a neighbouring butte, saying with the redoubta- ble Robinson Chesnut :— “‘T am lord of all I survey My rights there are none to dispute, &c.’’ During one of the Indian summer days of early November, I made a journey up one of the creek’s branches hunting after some elk. On looking back towards the camp, I saw great black clouds of smoke encircling the cabin on every side. The prairie wag on fire and I hastened back to save my scant pogses- ve oo) TWENTY YEARS sions. The pony was tied to a picket rope and would be almost helpless. But on arriving there found him gone, and without looking further proceeded at once to save the cabin by extinguishing the flames on the inside circle. After this was done, I took up gun, ammu- nition anda lunch of johnny cake and venison and started to hunt up the pony. I soon camo on a fresh wagon trail and ec ncluded te follow it. Noting that the hoofs of a led pony looked familiar, and guessing that the occupants were the startars of the fire, lredoubled my exertions to come up within reach of them. A full moon shed its silver light along the trail which enabled me to follow it fora distance of twenty miles or more when the settlement at Peterson: was reached. I here learned that the parties | was hunting had passed through without stopping and were heading for Buena Vista some twenty miles further on. Ireached Buena Vista about sunrise,it being a distance of something over forty miles from the place of starting. At this place | jearned that my game was a minister of, the gospel and his two sons. They had been out ON THE TRAP LINE.: 39 elk hunting and had thought the pony Indian property, and therefore legitimate spoil. In attempting to give the preacher an ex- hibition of bad temper, when— ‘‘An answer to his whistle shrill, Was echoed back from every hill;’’ and I was glad to return to the camp on Mill Creek without other indemnification than the recovery of my pony and lariat Late in December, Comstock returned and a regular winter blizzcrd set in, and we con- cluded to pull up the traps and reach the Lit- tle Sioux Valley in time to save our stock from perishing in the storm. In crossing an eight mile divide for this purpose, we had to face a bitter north wind; and when within a few hundred yards of the valley where the traps were strung,I suc- cumbed and fell, as in a blissful sleep, on the snow-covered ground. My partner, meantime, marking my ab- sence, retraced his steps discovering me‘pros- trate, gave me such an unmerciful thumping that I awoke maddened and followed him to- ward a bunch of dry grass which he immedi- ately ignited; and coming tomy senses, all went well. That experience convinced me, 19. TWENTY YEARS —_ that death by freezine after a certain period of uncomfortable cold is passed, is absolutely painless, oe, The balance ef the winter we divided into volfing,—with Hawthorn’s abandoned cabin as headquarters, and turkey and deer hunting around Plato’s ranch on Little Wolf Creek While at Plato’s, we learned some news frem ovr military fur buying friend of Chero- kee. He invested heavily in furs, relying upon steady markets and good profits on the final cutcome. Besides this, Christmas was the dine set for him to wed one of the only two marriageable daughters, at the time in the village of fair Cherokee. . Just before the holidays, adverse reports from the fur markets of London, reached him, and,he hastily gathered his furs in a pile, obtained a short fur rlough, and proceeded forthwith to Saint Paul, to unload before the crash came. But he was too late. He retur ned to his post a busted furrier. And again the old saw was verified, that “‘bad luck like crows never comes singly.” During the absence of the corporal commanding, his expected bride, in an hour of fickleness or change of heart—after a lightning courtship, —married another,and that other a plain ‘buck ‘'soldier of his own command. ce ON THE TRAP CINE. 4] CHAPTER V. The Final Trap on Mill Creek—A Spring “Set-out’—Trapper Hawthorne—“Call- ine” the Beaver—Lost on the Prairie—Inkpaduta’s Sons. REHEAT quantities of snow fell throughout G northwestern Iowa, during the month of February /865, followed by fierce wind storms in which some of the more exposed settlers lost their lives. ‘‘Trapper Joe’’ was found dead in his blankets under his wagon on Waterman Creek. His, horses were tightly tied to his wagon wheels; one dead but its mate alive. Two trappers on Lake Shetek were badly frozen: one with both legs frozen stiff below the knees and his comrade frozen blind. It took them twelve days to travel thirty-five miles—the nearest settlement from their camp. As a consequence of the snow, the Febru- ary thaw in the iatter part.of the month, set y?* 42 EWRINTY- YRARS the ice running in the streams. Again Com- stock,and myself formed a trapping partner- ship; and again we headed for Mill Creek; and,he afters hivering around the camp fire for a fewdays blessing the March winds,— as be- fore—deserted me. He had gone but afew days when Haw- thorne and Jackson, two trappers, appeared and asked for mutual camp and a division of the grounds. The proposition I cheerfully acceded to, though by trappers rules my pri- ority gave me furrights to the territory cover- ed by my traps, providing a charge of dog-in- the-manger style of holding conld not be sus- tained. Trapper Hawthorne, whom I casually in- troduced in a previous chapter, was at that time reckoned one of the most successful beaver trappers in northwestern I. wa. He usually sought places that had been—to use a trappers phase—‘‘trapped out.’’ But he man- aged, as arule, to take about as much fur from the place, as the ‘‘skimmers’’ or first trappers. He was originally a Marylander., married young, brought his wife west, and were among the first settlers in Little Sioux Valley: in fact one of the earliest of the ON THE TRAP LINE. 43 Smithlanders, but one who had refused to be a_party to the disarming of Inkpaduta’s hunting camp, characterizing it as an unjusti- fiable proceeding, lacking cause. We made permanent camp at the Three Forks, and the following two months I be- came a diligent pupil in learning the noted trappers method of catching beaver by the scanted bait. The bait most generally used by beaver trappers consists, simply, of the bark castors of either sex—though used separately. The castors taken from the beavers late in the winter or early spring prefered. It is then placed in a hottle or horn and mixed with common molasses and wild garlic. The ascent bait as Hawthorne prepared and used, ‘contained the following iugredients: Thel bark castor of a female beaver, taken in April; to thia, is added two spoonfulls of the oil of cinnamon, and abouthalf as much of the oil of ‘burgamont. To this mixture alcohol is added, when the bait is ready for use. Age adds to the vigor of the bait when properly cared for. Some tiappers delight in a mysterious com- pound known only to themselves. But the 44 TWENTY YEARS net result of their “‘catch™* rarely everattests any unusual power in ‘‘drawing”’ the inquis- itive beaver. In the spring months after the ice has went out and the water along the creek beds settle to its normal condition, if the sign justifies the-trapper puts out his beaver “‘ealls’’ or baits. As Hawthorne's methods were very successful in this line, and not having the air of mystery that usually surround the “‘medt- cine catch’’ of the French Canadian, | will state them: He takes asmali willow cr cot- tonwood stick cuts it in two pieces of about six inches in length; and each siivered at one end. This slivered end is then dauded with the concoction, the slivering helping to retain the: scent in the wood. He then searches up, if possible, a 9: where beaver use, though not on its runw (cr regular slides. He then seta the trap aie : lowing for the beaver’s wide tread, and runs the unscented ends of the sticks in the mud at the water line, allowing the scented ends to hang over the water in the directicn of and within eight or ten inches of the water covered traps. Trappers, sometimes, when unobservad, treat ON THE TRAP LINE. 45 their too neighbourly rivals bait sticks to a coat of the oil castors, thereby producing a scare instead of a call to the passing beaver. One March morning when the snow was falling fast, | started up the creek for an elk hunt, knowing that the storm would bring them in the breaks of the creek for shelter. I had not traveled far before I espied a band of about twenty, but having scented me were | trotting out to the high prairies. I followed cn the trail until drifting snow obliterated their tracks so that | lost the game entirely. The air bad became filled with drifting snow and | became bewildered and lost. I had no compass and was drifting out to the treeless and shelturless basin of the upper Floyd’s River. In the direction I was going I could not hope to strike timber short of sixty miles; and as the fnow-was from one to three feet deep I muet Lecome exhausted and perish in a few more hours. In this dilemima, while trying to take obser- vaticns from @ raise of ground, [saw on my Lack trail what appeared, through a slight lull in the still flying particles of snow, a grove of timber. 1! immediatley retraced my steps, but on arriving where the supposod timber was, Pr a ever wees 46 TWENTY YEARS found nothing but elk tracks These I fol- Jowed at a venture,“and after two more hours of snow wadiney was joyfully surprised to find nveeif within a nile of our trapping camp. Tewards night it turned biustrous and bitter cold, and the camp fire rent up a cheerful giare that hid the death phantem that had followed in the wake of my cutwaré trail. About the middle of May, Hawthorne and his partner broke cstnp and started home- ward, while I remained a few days longer to trap the beaver damrunways. In doing so I met with the same trouble of the previous autumn, namely. from the brmexrse number of wild ducks. They were there inevery variety of plumawe—the green headed maliard, the red headed fish duck from the Arctic and the white plumes from the Hucson Bay coantry. In my twenty years after experience on the tr:p line, I rever recollected seeing so many varieties of these fowls, and in such numbers at any one time, as curing that spring camp on Mill Creek. As the rapidly changing season commenced to ‘‘spot’* the furs, I made ready to pull wp traps and move down to the ssttlements. On the morning of my final departure; | noticed THE FACE. AIN IN R ON THE. TRAP: LINE. 47 a& men parsing along the edge of the bluffs without seeming to see the camp. With gun in hand and a brace of pistols in my ‘‘war’’ belt, | intercepted him with a “‘hel- lo.’’ On approaching, I discovered him to be a half breed, and seemed trailing something. ‘‘Did you see nobody pass here?’’ he said in good English. ““No,’’ I answered. “You were in luck they didn’t see you !”’ “Why so!’’ ‘“‘Because Inkpaduta’s boys don’t often let a chance slip.’’ ‘‘Inkpadutas’s boys,’’] repeated mechanically, ‘Yes, Inkpadvta’s sons!”’ . Inkpadutas’s sons! I well remember the cold chill that crept over my nerves at the haif breed’s men_ tion of the dreaded name. As eoon as he had disappeared down the winding valley I criti- cally examined the trail he was following, and found,*the moccasin tracks of six different In- dians, all*pointing down the valley. After having taken up the traps, I moved . up'on the high divide and tock a bee line for Correctionville. A few days later news came 42 TWENTY YEARS down the valley that the settlement at Peter- 8on had been struck by a small band of In- dians and the sergeant commanding the sol- diers at that place had been killed. It was the work, of course, of the same little party that had passed my camp, as they were h:ad- ing directly for Peterson settlement. Striking, the valley of the Little Sioux aé least once a year on a hostile raid, seemed to te a fanatical observence oi Inkpaduta’s band they could not abandon. Whither fish- ing pickeral around the shores of Lake Win- nipeg_or hunting antelope on the plains of the upper James River, or buffalo in the Judith Basin‘or along the Muscelshell River, time and opportunity were found to start out hundreds of miles on a dreary foot journey to count a ‘coup’? on their aggressive conquerors. The Battle onthe Little Big Horn is still rated the most important engagement be- tween the Whites and Indians since that dar on the banks of the turgid Tippecanoe, when the sycamore forests hid the broken columns of Tecumseh and the Prophet, from Har-_ rison’s victorious army. Various writers have ascribed Custer’s ON THE TRAP LINE. 49 death, as the culminating episode in this lat- ter diy fight, and to highten the color of the picture, have leid his death to the personal prowess Of Rain-in-the-Face, or on the field alter of the Chief Priest Sitting Bull. It has long since been proved that Rain-in the-Face was not on the field of battle that day, but miles away in charge of the pony herd. About Sitting Bull’s hand in the affair he has expressed himself again and again, by saying in about these words to the charge: “They tell you I murdered Custer. It is a lie. [Tam nota war chief. I was notin the battle that day. His eyes were blinded that he could not see. He was a fool and rode to his death. He made the fight notI. Who ever tells you I killed Custer is a liar.’’ Setting Buli’s defence was but justice to himself. He was the hunted, not the hunter. Custer rode down on the Indian village on the Little Big Horn, with aciphered scroll floating high above his feathery-winged gui- doos. It has blazoned in many a mortal combat between armies of angry men in the past, and will again appear,—that ‘he that lives by the sword will die by the sword.”’ Ani Custer’s sword was his life. 50 TWENTY ‘YEARS Anvintellizent Yankton, Santee. Unepapa Blackfoot arother Sioux who participated mn the fight against Custer’s batallions on that 25th day «f June?876, will tell you it was difficult to tell just who killed Custer. They believed he was the last to fall in the group where he was found—that the last leaden messengers of swift death hurled amongst this same group of falling and dying soldiers, were belched forth from Winchesters held in the hands of Inkpaduta’s sons. LE BEAVER. (Ficm a photograph.) ON THE TRAP LINE. 51 CHAPTER VI. About Beavers. HE common American beaver, the Castor Fiber, of the family Castoridze as classifi- ed by the naturalist, are yet occasionally found along some of the isolated, unsettled streams and rivers of portions of the Rocky Mountain country. The beaver has usually held their own in the battle for existence through the changing climatic conditions of past centuries. They have held their own against their carnivorous ~ enemies that beset them on all sides, and only since their warm, glossy fur covering has at- tracted man to join in its destruction, has this intelligent and prolific animal of the or- der Rodentia been compelled to almost vacate its place from among the living animals Of the earth. TWENTY YEARS or Lo) With the exceptions of size, shape of the tail and a few other noticable peculiarities, the general appearance of the beaver is that of a huge muskrat—the little rodent so com- mon on almost every rivulet, creek or river on the American Continant. The weight of a full grown beaver will av- erage about furty-five pounds,though the wri- ter has trapped some that weighed over six- ty pounds. Their cars aresmall and short— so short indeed, that they are hardly notica- ble among the thick fur. Their eyes are small and black with a dull, listless look. The nose is of the pug order. Their head near- ly round, set to a thick neck. A pair of huge incisors, set in the front of massive jaws, serves a variety of purposes—serves them as impliments of labor im felling trees and wea- pons of defense, preparing food, &c. The average length of an adult beaver is about two feet with a trowel shaped tail of perhaps ten inches more. The tail is scaled like a fish and is supported from the body by sinews of great strength. The fore legs—or properly arme—are short: not over four or five inches in length. The hind legs are also short and round. The ON THE TRAP LINE. 53 hind parts of a beaver, when the fur and tail are taken off, very nearly resemble a fat goose. Their hind feet are webbed and they walk on their heeis somewhat like a raccoon. Their outside fur is a chesnut brown witha eendancy to change toa lead color near the skin. An occasional family of black fur bearer are met with, but they are only spor- adic or exceptional cases. The intelligence and sagacity (f beaver iS proverbial. While the author of this work does not rate their intellect as high as the fabled tales of Pumet, Olaus Magnus or George Her- lot among writers, or the tough yarns told by the average old trappers,yet during a clore study of their habits for a long number of years, | am prepared to accept withan ear to facts many of these seemingly improbable stories. In the construction of their d wellings they adapt themselves to their surroundings. If in a lake they build a conical shaped house out in the water a few feet from shore. The house is usually about five or six fees high witha circumferance atthe base of about twenty feet. Deep ditches are dugon all sides and a place dredged several feet near the outside Se tl th a em 54 TWENTY YEARS to sink and store their winter provisions which consists of the tender shoots and branches from the willow, cottonwood, ash and other species of bark used by the beaver as food. The inside of the house is cosily plastered, and contains one or more rooms—usually two- an eating and sleeping apartment. The beds are built high, and consists of a material made from the inside bark of trees. It is built on an elavation to avoid an unpleasant nap during a sudden raise of water in the lake, But one family, occupy e house, numb21i1g from four to seven members. Sometimes an outsider is admitted to the circle, his welcom> brought about by his indefatigable industry in aiding to repair the breakages in dams and replastering their house or assisting in drag- ing in the winter grub pile. They take their bieakfast at sunrise » and sup- per at sundown. Their dinner hour is irregu- lar. They sit in a circle and handle their grub and eat like squirrels. I have often list- ened to them at their breakfast. They always seemed making a merry feast. The soft voice of tha female, the gruff notes from the head of the family and the shrill piping of ON THE TRAP LINE. 55 the juniors could be heard in a happy con- fusion around the board of goodcheer. After the meal—or bark—has been served, Mother Beaver in the absence of atable cloth, gath- ers up the pealed sticke from which the bark had been eaten, and pushes them out in the canal current, when they all retire until the duil twilight calls them forth to prepare for another feast or begin their nocturnal labors. Along the rivers and streams the ‘bank beaver’’ predominates. They are reckoned by some writers on the beaver, as of a different family from those of the house build- eis of the lakes, and more nearly related to the Eurcpean variety. My observations have led me to believe, however, that there is no difference whatever in the stock, but their surroundings only, and the ingenuity of the beaver to adapt them. selves to changed circumstances making whatever perceptible difference noticed in their changed habits. The ‘‘yrass ,beaver,’’ have amore distinct change ef habit and appearance from the other two. They live along the pond holes be- yond the timber lines of the creeks and run- i 56 TWENTY YEARS: ning streams. They live alune, or in small families.; They burrow in the banks, and live on grass roots or buck brush. Their wirter ‘“erub pile’ has about the, same relation to the winter stores of the lake and dam beaver that the’ distressed looking winter stores cof the ‘“‘bumble’’ bee compares with the well filled combs of the little honey bee. The bank beaver of the running streams show a fine order of animal intellect. That they can successfully dam up wide rushing rivers with a breastwork several feet in height and with sucha network of masonry that defies the rush of the wildest torrents of mad waters. While in the construction of their houses they are not so elaborate, or have they the fine finish that adorn the mud mansions of their brothers of the lakes, yet for durability against the fangs of a pack of famishing wolves, or against the grinding and pushing of great masses of ice in the spring break-up, they are equal to the emergency. These houses of the running streams are usually made against the bank, allowing a good sub- atantial finish to the front while the main part of the house is dug out cf the solid earth. ON. THE TRAP LINE. 87 Inthe Upper Missouri country where the ice freezes during the winter, to from three and a half to four feet in thickness, the watchful rodents were kept busy keeping their feed beds from freezing down, by incessant work, and the canal must be kept open, otherwise they would be frozen up in their houses, and perish by starvation and cold. Ii ie, cften remarked that ‘“‘a woman’s work is never done.’’ The same can truly be said of the tireless industry of the beaver. Build- ing or replastering houses, repairing and building dams. digging and dredging canals, end keeping their feed beds free from a solid freeze-down were, but a part of their tasks. With all there trials, added to their in: ffen- sive ways—their gentle disposition,—their patience and forbearance in every form of persecution—their very meekness in the face of a cruel death, should force a pitying tear from the ruling masters of the world, rather than man should lead in every wile, in every trick or subtle craft that ingenuity can in- vent or Iforce give to encompass the pe beavers utter destruction. But Fashion’s vagaries must be appeased. 58 TWENTY YEARS Like the stone-faced image that sit en- throned in regal magnificence on the cruel flesh-crushing car of Juggenaut,—painting itself with the blood of the weak, the meek and the innocent, as in pitiless, rigid-faced Sphinx-like serenity, it rides the earth. ON..THE. TRAP. LINE. 5g CHAPTER VIL. Along the Elkhorn River—Beaver “Up to Lfrap’—Camping Among the Wild Plums—An Elk Hunt—A Clean Burn Out. UGUST 20th, 1866, found an Omaha hard- A ware dealer ,busy fitting out three in- thusiastic young men for en autumn hunt and trap along the headwaters of the famous Elkhorn River. Ballard rifles, pistols, plenty of ammunition, and a large kit of traps were pur- chased with a _ reckless disregard for the wealth inhand. Game was reported plenty and prices in raw furs good, so that no un- comfortable visions distressed the minds of the trio. ; The new formed hunting and trapping firm consisted of ‘‘Buffalo Ned,” otherwise Mr. E. Minick, from the Peori bottoms of the Sucker State; Mr Jennings, or ‘‘The Gopher’’ hailing from the State that bore his non de plume, “60 “TWENTY YEARS. and the chronicler, who had reached a round in his professional ladder, was dubbed the ‘‘Trapper.’’ These names had been applied as frontier custom, by the jovial tumbermen that made tne welkin ring around the forasts of breezy Rockport. A contract with a teamster making his ooli- gation to deliver,our luggage at some point on the North Fork of the Hikhorn River, wag duly observed,'and after an uneventful trip, following the course of Logan Creek, thence along the main riv er until the North Fork was reached, when after following aloag the stream fora number of, miles, some beaver Sign was observed and we concluded to a in- to camp and try our luck with the traps in the vicinity. After pitching our tent and making so n> sort of order for the carap, the bright new traps were brougt from the boxes and three enthusiastic fur catchers started out to sign up and put out_a line for beaver The early season raade sign hunting dif. cult. But little work was being done oa the dame the beaver wisely waiting for the pas- sing of the summer freshets. But sufficient sign was found to set out a three mile line. ON THE TRAP LINE. 61 The traps were mostly set onthe regular run- ways leading over the breasts of the dams, or where the slide of the wood workers led out to recently cut trees. At dawn next mornisy Buffaloand the Go- pher started out to attend the traps, while I remained incu:up. Inafew hours they re turned in bad humor. They had a muskrat or two and said somibody had stolen half of the traps and ‘‘monkeyed with the balance.’’ After the breakfast was over I returned w th my partners on a visit to the trap line. A. little observation and I was soon convinced vhere the trouble lay. It was simply a case of beaver ‘‘up to trap.’’ Wewere now loca- ted on the trapping grounds of the Omaha In- dians, who were rated experts in that art. The few beaver that had survived through this constant waylaying, came: ut often with the joss of one or both fore feet, and a full knowledge of what a steel trap was, and be- came wary and suspicious in their evening p eregyinations. In this instance Castor Fiber had made a demoralized loolriag trap line. The new traps s hining like silver through the water, so that even the dull eyed Leaver could descern them v2 TWENTY YEARS: without much effort. Some of the traps were found sprung, with pealed sticks in the jaw® of them. Some were found bottom side up but unsprung, while the ‘‘stolen’’ ones were found nicely plastered against the breasts of the dams to do duty as material in making needed repairs. These observations led us to take up the line and bring the traps to camp as it was useless to contend against old beaver with bright traps, and an exposure to the air and and a rust varnish became necessary. In the meantime while rambling around, we discovered a temporary balmfrom disappoint- ment at the shrewdness of Castor Fiber. It was finding an immense orchard of the wi!d plum. The fruit was ripe, and the trees thickly interspersed. with red and green,—the red frurt and green leaves, and some were of the yellow color. These wild plum groves are found along every considerable stream in the country of the Great Plains, and the fruit is highly prized by the housewives of the border, for jelly and preserves. The plums are of many excellent flavors. and range from the hickory nut to the walnut in size. ON THE TRAP._LINE. 63 To eat plums and mors thoroughly enjoy the prospect, we moved our camp to the grove, In this move we disturbed several wolves and coyotes, who had themselves been camp- ing around and eating the ripe fruit as a need- ed change from almost constant meat diet. They would sit around in the daytime on distant hills in silent watching, but when night came manifested their displeasure at our pvesouce by mouraful howling. After spending about a week in the plum camp; we were surprised one morning by anew set of visitors—a band of elk. Tney were nine in number, and taking their time feed- ing leasurly along the creek. The band had passed camp unnoticed, but as soon as we discovered them. Buffalo and I armed ourselves and gave chase. They walked faster as they passed out on, the‘ open prairie, aud it became difficult to come up withthem. Their trailled south of the forks of the main river, where their speed were still further accelerated by the sound of axes among the timber. It wesfrom a party of Iiinoisans—the founders of the after fourish- ing town a Norfolk. ir * ‘ a - Ss 3 the elk were ‘“‘snufing the winc?’ it was 64 TWENTY YEARS not difficult in keeping a little behind them unobserved. About sundown we waiched them pass down. on the ,bottoms of a little stream, now called Union Creek. They then fed leasurly toward the water giving us’ time to reach within shooting distance just of its patrons and prey of its ‘‘boomers.”’ The Gopher wended hia way down theriver to the West Point settlement, while Buffalo and myself, after thirty hours walking with ‘frog on toast’’ for grub, reached Columbus, the busy little town at the junction of Loup Fork and Platte River. Thus ended our autumn trap along the Elkhoin River. ON THE TRAP LINE. 69 CHAPTER VIIi. Wolfers and Wolfing. OLE skin overcoats becoming a part of W the uniform of soldiers of portions of the Russian army, aud the popularity of the wolf robein all fur wearing countries, made the demand steady and profitable to the fur dealer and. the wolf trapper, so that new and more systimiatic ways were devised to destroy wolves for their fur value. About the year 1865, those trappers who made wolf killing a specialty, became gen- erally termed wolfers. In those day large herde of the buffalo still roamed over many parts of tiie Great Plains, though even at that cate their range limits became so Cir- cumecribed that they were divided into two great divisions, the northern and southern. The southern range constituted that portion 70) TWENTY YEARS of the plains south of Platte River, reaching down to the northern borders of the State of Texas. while the northern range, stretched from the Platte northward to the Saskatche- wan Valley, in Her Majesty’s domain. Following every buffalo herd, were packs of ravenous wolves that watched warily for wounded or decrepit buffalo that would fall an easy prey to their savage onslaught. Old bulls, no longer able to stand the blufis and butts of their younger fellows, were forced to the outskirts there in turn to meet the dreaded wolf. While buffalo were ever care- ful to give protection to their young, their aged especially the males, wero literally “turned out to die,’* when no longer able to hold their own in a single butting combat. Every band of buflalo great or small, was, therefore, encircled by gangs or packs of wolves, coyotes, foxes and swifts. The three latter were ranged on the outer circle, and forced to wait, as it were, for second table. With a full knowledge of the movements of his game, the wolfer riggs up an outfit similar to that of the hunter or the trapper with the exception of traps and baits. In the place of these, he supphes himself lib- erally with strychnine poison. : Lona DoG TKE TRAPPER KILLER. Chief of a mixed band of Sioux outlaws who ranged along the Upper Missouri between the years 1865 and 1885 ON THE TRAP LINE. 71 {f it was in the autumn, he tioved slowly in the wake of a buffalo herd, making open camp , and shooting down afew of the beasts, and after ripping them open, saturating their warm blood and intestines with from one to threa bottles of strycinaine to each carcass. After his line of puisonei buffalo has been p ut cut to his notion, the wolfer makes camp in a ravine or coulee and prepares for the morrow. With thy first gliminer of light in the east- ern 6ky, he rises, nakes his fire, and cooks his coffee, then hitchesup, if he has a team, orsad- dies up if with packs, and follows his line to the fiaish. Around each buffalo carcass will probably be from three to a dozen dead wolves, which he packs off some distance ficm his baits, and ekhins them. The most freqented winter grounds of the professional wolfers on the sonthern plains were along the Republican and Smoky Hill tivers of weatern Kansas, and the country about the neighborhood of the Staked Plains in rorthern Texas. -The ncrthern wolfer found their best grounds along the Milk, Mus- celshell and Judith Rivers, and saround the Reer Paw Mountains of Montans., and the the Peace River Gcouniry in Mauatoba. 72 TWENTY YEARS v The northern wolfers had the business well systemized, and while many lost their lives by Indian hostility, and the exposure inci- dent to that kind of life, yetmany of them made small fortunes at times, butan infatu- uation born of the calling held them as in a serpents charm until some rovers: in his af- fairs, left him where he began—in vigorous poverty. The wolfex’s winter life was much the same in his general rounds as his autumn experi- ence. If on the plains near camps of hostile In- dians, a small party gets together, form a common camp.and erect a ‘‘dug out,’’ a kind of half underground house. ‘These dug outs can bemade warm and comfortable. Being thus partly below the prairie level they are enabled to resist the bitter cecld, blowing blizzards that sweep over the Great Plains with terrible fury at intervals during the win- ter mcnths. These underground habitations sre also used by the welfers to thaw out the frozen car-— caresses of the wolves and foxes so‘that they _ could be skinned. i Pe A few days warm sun often neutralizes the poiscn put in the butfalo carcass, so that the ON THE TRAP LINE. 73 effect is only to sicken the wolf that eats the poisoned meat. It then wanders off' alone to die by inches in somes secluded place out of the lines, and being undiscovered, a loss to the wolfer. Other times these victims of the poison recovers from its fits with the loss of their coat, andno phantom of horror pre- sented itself in such ghastly way, as the reappearance of asick and famished wolf, with a hide denude of fur or hair, stag- gering around in a dazed sort of way in search of food to prolong life. Such a sight will sometimes haunt a wolfer from his call- ing—callious though his natnre to suffering may be. The Indians have an especial antipathy to the wolfer. Poisoned wolves and foxes in their dying fits often slobber upon the grass, which, becoming sun dried holds its poison- ous properties a long time, often causing the death months or even years after, of the po- ny, antelope, buffalo or other animal feeding upon it. The Indians losing their steck in this way feel like making reprisals, and often did. The writer well remembers a cage of strych- nino 8 far reaching effects. On one of the 74 TWENTY YEARS closing days of my trapping experience, acompanion and myself were wolfing and trapping around Lake Mandan. We were al- so accompanied by a large greyhound, form- erly the property of General Custer. While out attending some otter traps, we came to a staked beaver skeleton, which I remembered of poisoning and putting out as a wolf bait flve winters before. The dog commenced to play with it, then to lhcking it, when we were pained to see him fall over in a fit and die. The hound had been notable one, He had followed his former master on his last char.,e at the Liitle big Horn, and made his way alone to Fort Abraham Lin_ coln, where he errived cn the second night after that battle. Wolves and bulfalo passed off the face of tha plains about the same time, though a few coyotes still remain, and an occasional bufialo wolf. These hang around tha great cattle lit herd and the prefessional wolier has Lise pee his occupation with that of the cow Loy and the shepherd, ON THE TRAP LINE. 79 CHAPTER IX. On the Loup Fork of Platte River—Paw- nee Indians as Guestz:—Bloody Trail— Baiting the Mink—FEcunters and ‘Trappers as Drcamers. FTER fully recruiting from the misfor- A tunes incident to the Elkhorn trapping ex pediticn, I entered into a cortract with a bus_ness firm to cut the timber from a small is}exd on the Loup Fork, about 51x miles up frcm its junction with Platte River. A comfortable cabin was constructed, but was hardly finished in its appointments be- fore a band of Pawnee Indian visitors made a crossing on the ice—for it was now the month of December—and proceeded to pitch their tents in semicircle, in front of my habi- tation. There.were six lodges of them or about thirty, all told, in the party. The chief of the band answered to the name of Coolahcuse, or ‘“‘thecld man.’’ They mA or TWENTY YEARS were of the Skeedes or Welf band of Paw- nees, who are more nearly related to the Ar icarees of the Upper Missouri, than either of the three remaining divisions of that Indian nation. Many of the men wore their hair reached, having the appearance of the familiar picture of the helmet crowned Roman im the days of the early Punic wars. But in their clothing, poor as it was, there were no pickings for tho rag man. Shirts they had none, or any sa>- stitute save the rebe of the buffalo. Their moccasins were of the same material. Their lemgens were of the skins of antelops. anl with huge ear rings gaily suspended, heir dress was complete. The women used the same material, with’a little different style in the general make-up. The children evea in the coldest days, dressed like Cupid shora cf his wings but retainiug his bow and arrow. In other words these Indians were miserably poor, Their main vilage or towa was on Reaver Creek, some fifteen miles adeve mr island. where three thousand of them were in training fer civilization and sem etarvation. Coolahouse nad a preposition to ake. His people, as I must see were fsmisuing. — ON ToM TRAP LING, TT Imasi als> sze pleity of boaver sign aloar the river, aud wolves and coyotes on the prairies. He then'susgested that if I would tend strictly to my trsps and baits—a new outfit I had lately bought—he would see that my wood cutting erd sawing would go on just the same. He would attend to that. They were in need of food and wanted the carcasses of all the trapped and poisoned an- imals. The Pawnee chieftain stecd Ly his word. After catching my first beaver, 1 took the skinned carcaers out to the prairie and tying a stout string to it started off dragging italcng on the Fnow like a boy with his sled. This is what wolfers call ‘‘rurning a bleccy trail.’’ It isiescrted to by them ina scarcity of draw baits. One fresh killed beaver has the ‘‘diswing”’ power of a dead horse cr luffalo. The wolves or coyotes, always partial for beaver flesh, and owing {o its peculiar odor, the scent is eerily followed. For this reascn the wolfer prefera beaver carcasses to that of any‘other when running out one of his bloody trails. Cn this occasien I made semicircle trail of about three miles, dropping sn occasional bit —/ TWENTY YEARS of meat, and about every two hundred yards - or so, a poisoned ‘‘pill.’’ This pill is made by placing a few grains of strychnine in some tried out grease, cooled and hardened. But unless the poisen is first wrapped in a Lit of tissue or other soft paper, it is scen apt to dessolve in the grease and lose its strength. Both water and wolf lines brought fair re- turns, and the Indians seemed to feel happy over even adish cf pciscn wolf broth. The stomach of the wolf was always removed, and the meat thoroughly parboiled. It was a hard mess for human stcmachs; yet it was life to these starving Indians. Mink skins were #till werth five dollars to fur buyers, and ss | fcund considerable sign of them uncer dGiiit } es and around air holes 1 allowed ny interest In ihe Indians to lack a little, and gave rcne attenticn to tray ping after profitable fur bearers. By following some mink sign one day I trailed them to an ice gorge where a pony had been drowned. and which the mink were fecding upon. An investigation and trial sccn convinced me thet horse fleeh was a good drawing winter bait for mink, iid for skunks and badgers as well. ON THE TRAP LINE. 79 While superstition in some form enters largely in the hfe of every human being—d: - ny as they may—yet I believe from my cb- servations and experience with hunters, trap- pers and wolfers, that as a class, they are fully up if nota little ahead of the average in their respect and reverence for the omens of rigid fate, and a glimpse of the future as unraveled through the interpretations of a clear headed dreamer. Many of the Indian superstitions are copied, especially whatever isinimical to their call- ing. Their various charms--the lucky gun, the lucky trap, is but another name for the luck bag or ‘‘medicine”’ of the Indians. The dreamer, probably, enters more largely into, and influences their actions than the prognostics of the°totem. Joseph’s Egyp- tian occupation, as dream iuterpreter would never have taken root under the canopy of haughty Pharaoh had that august personage lived in the nineteenth century. Some hunter or trapper of the western wilds, and not Joseph would have held the light. While many of these frontiersmen inter- pret their own dreams or regulate the efficien- cy and power of their charms to suit them- 80 TWENTY YEARS selves. Vettnans of them take a universal form as far as a hunter, trapper and wolfers calling is concerned. A hunter will not part with his lucky gun nor will a trapper eell his lucky trap, while the unlucky one in the absence of a ready purchaser. is often consigned to thea muddy bosom of the watery depths, or smashed to pieces over a pile of rocks. To dream of blood is generally racoygnizad as a symbol of good luck, and also to dream of clear running water; while on the other hand muddy water means bad luck; also the dreaming of losing teeth or the breaking or bending of a gun barrel, or a failure to fire the gun in an act of hunting. On the strength of ‘their beliefs In omens, many of this class, will arise in the morning to buy or sell their “‘chances” of the day’s catch, to their camp partnerse—the offering or bidding regulated by the way the dreams were interpreted. Up to the time of myencampment on Cool- ahouse’s Island (for the Pawnee claimed sov- erignty.) I had not joimed the trappers in their dream revelation theory, but an inci- dent of this kind occurred, that if it did ON THE TRAP. LINE. 8] not make a convert, at least made me re- spectful to those who’ were. On my rounds to the traps I often noticed a small grove or bunch of trees standing out alone on the prairie level, and about a mile back from the river. Some time the spring following, and after I returned from a mid winter trap on Shell Creek, I dreamed of going to this bunch of trees and finding a clear pond of water filled with sun fish, and five little spotted pigs, each in a trap, and all dead. The dream keeping uppermost in my mind, I gathered up a kit of traps and went to in- vestigate. I found the pond and sunfish just as I had dreamed, but instead of dead pigs, there were plenty of mink sign, 80 set the traps. I did not return for’ three mornings after, and then found five drowned mink in the traps. 82 TWENTY YEARS CHAPTER X. Otter and Otter Trapping—A Mid-Winter Trap on Shell Creek. ers, lakes and streams, so named in con- tradistinction to the sea otter or those that live along the coasts bordering the ocean, are like the beaver fast disappearing, and from the same cause—their fur value. These inland otterare, orrather were found along every stream of water where fish, fowl and frogs abound, for on them they live. A full grown otter will measure from its nose to the tip of its tail, from three to four fest and will weigh from thirty to thirty-five pounds. Their legs area short and very sin- ewy and strong. The mouth is wide and in facial resemblance have much the appear- ance of an ordinary bull dog. The eyes are small, black and piercing. In proportion to | pepeces cr the otter of the inland riv- ) | ON THE TRAP LINE. 83 its legs the body is long, though the tail, which has a peculiar flat shape tapering to the tip, is as long as the body proper. The females have a litter of from two to four every summer, which generally run about with the mother until the spring following. The young then remain in a group by them- selves, but after becoming grown, they seek other mates. The fur of an otter varies in color from a dark brown to a glossy black. As is the case _ with most fur bearers, the more northern the darker the fur becomes. But sporadic cases of ‘‘silk’’ otter are liable to be foand in most any latitude. There ‘‘silk otter’’ have a glos- sv fur, highly prized by the wild Indians for hair decorating purposes. point ats a a ON THE TRAP LINE. 145 until scared, when they were liable to trot off into another section of country altogether. These elk around the Painted Woods, were for the most part nee@lessly and wantonly destroyed. Up to the summer of 1874. there resided in a clump of elms, now called Fair- man’s Homestead, an immense buck elk, vith a heavy pair of horns. Unlike his fel- lows, he refused to be scared away. Reynolds, Blanchard, Little Dan, Archy and hosts of others had ‘pumped lead’? into the patient beast, but be refused to down. He was named ‘Bull of the Woods’? by some; also “‘hunters’ lead mine.’? He was believed to lead a charmed life. But the spell was broken. Bull of the Woods was slaughtered. Not by one of these ‘“‘mighty hunters’. b ut by a green little Irish boy, who fired the first shot of his life, at this woods monarch, and the giant dropped dead from a broken neck. A short distance above the abode of the Bull of ths Woods, lived another wonder to the professional hunter, and this was the “Deer’s Ghost,’’ or sometimes called the Hid- denwood buck, from his appearing Gecasion- wily along the banks of Hiddenwood Creek. Lack on the high prairies, He was crowned 146 TWENTY YEARS with a mighty pair of antlers, and wore a hairy suit of never changing iron grey. Like the Bull of the Woods, he seemed im- pervious to the leaden showers of the hunter’s rifles. One of these nimrods—Garrett Howe, averred the Deer’s Ghost circled around him continually on one of his hunts and drew his shots often enough to scare other deer away, thereby keeping him from killing any ‘‘real”’ deer. Unlike the eik, he*did not fall from an amateurs rifle, or from any hunter’s rifle white orred, as faras ever known. He dis- appeared from his haunts during the year of the Custer massacre,and about the same time of that event. Antelope, during the first few years of my residence at the Woods, were frequently seen around there in large and numercus herds. The introduction of long range repeating rifles into that country was death to antelope and buffalo alike. The Missouririver was dividing line for two great communities of antelopes. Those of them that wintered in the Bad Lands west of the river, came to the bluffs and banks near that stream for early spring feed, and the ON THE TRAP LINE. 147 the females to care for there young. They soon fattened by the nutritious buffalo grass, and were the chief early summer food supply of Indians and woodyard men. Around the Square Buttes, and along the Nilssouri, opposite the Painted Woods, were a favorite resort in early summer for the an- telope. I had noticed as many as twenty seperate flocks or herds at one time feeding as quietly as sheep. The two hunters Reynolds and Diamond made frequent summer camp to kill these animals and sun dry the meat. It was a wasteful way as but little more than a part of the hams could be used. The antelope on the east side come only to the Missouri, in autumn and winter exactly reversing those con the west side. When the prairies are burned and the snow deep,the yoor brutes became starved and poor. In this condition a few winters ago, the east river antelope were destroyed. Starving and weakened antelope saw no mercy in the eyes of starving settiers with long range repeaters and this beautiful animal has passed out of the. pale of game laws enactel after their virtual «xtermination in the Dakotis. 148 TWENTY YEARS The meat eating magp-e, were the most nu- merous of the bird kind on my first advent in northern Dakota. They remained all winter and shared with the eagles, ravens and wolves and foxes, the pickings, from offals of hunt- ing camps. They are birds of nearly pigeon size, long tailed, variegated with white, black, and b.ue plumage. They are very intelligent and great chatterers. They often served a hunter instead of a dog; would fly over and ahead of him while hunting, and when deer or elk were located, sat up a great noise which the observing hunter well understood. Of course the bird expected the entrails for its Services. But later on whenthe poisoner and the trapper came, these choice bits or meat thea magpie formerly chattered so loquatiously over, were turned into instruments of death for the poor bird. It was not intended for them of course, but being a sharer of the subtie banguet spead for the fox aad the wolf, he unwittingly died for their sake. About'the year 1879, every solitary mazple left that section of country, They seemed to to have gone to stay for none have been bacx since their hegira. ON THE TRAP LINE. 149 After the high water had subsided follow- ing the break-up of 1882, the water in the low point around the stockade remained damed up and as a consequence. I made open camp ona dry knoll among the hard wood. The water between the camp and residence in consequence of the cold became a mass of ice. While preparing breakfast one morning I heard sounds in the brush above camp about one hundred yards away. The sounds bore on my ears at the time, as that of a combat between two badgers. Breakfast over the ecuncs had ceased, though I took up the rifle to reconnoiter. On the ice lay an immense buck deer just killed. apparently, with his hams partly eaten. Around and about was the marks of a terrible struggle on the ice, and the huge tracks of two mountain lions. They had run the deer on the ice, where they mastered him, though he made a desperately brave fight for his life. The lhons satisfied, fled in dense brush as-I came in sight. Vhile trapping along Painted Woods Creek, in 1876, I discovered two immense snapping turtles near the old military cross- ing, and shot them. The weight of each 150 TWENTY YEARS turtle was over sixty pounds. IJ hauled them to Rhude’s Turtle Valley Ranch where the genial prcprietcr gave the meat a two Cceys boiling without any perceptible effect. The Indians considered their killing almost a sacrilege. They claimed that these same two turtles were living and known to their grand- fathers. They believed their destruction boded ill to future people living along the banks of these two turtle’s former haunts. The fall of 1889, another shot from my rifle, if not so far reaching in its eflects, was at least an odd one. This happened on Lookout Point, back on the bluffs from my residence. A light snow had fallen, and while out hunt- ing spied a fox and shot it. On going toit a mutilated $20 bill dropped from ,its “meuth. I took its back trail, and in about half oie, mile found the place where the fox had picked it up. The smell of grease on the biil had attracted the fox’s appetite. Ashufiling of the snow turned up nearly $100 in bills. it had been lost by a wagon master of the Fort Bar- hold Ageney, two months previous. } From the building of the first stockade at the Rendezvous, the place became 2 Ciancin a Me eed — i a ae Phat oe + TS dew & cat cx ae po Sart we ony — a a] eS Sieaae ee 8 B22 s A ee A, 2 a ” ea Sn+y Hime & 7" we Bact RS i202 44. Ra OR ie aon 8 Moor oma apap 67 ae a) fms SE — ON THE TRAP LINE. 151 for Indians of different tribes, while passing aiong the river. During the closing days of the hereditary war between the Sioux and the Indians of Fort Berthold. the war parties of the latter frequently stopped there to rest and dry their bull boats. When the war was ended, both parties made it their passing camping ground.— Among the occasional campers was Long Sol- dier the giant chief of the lower Uncpapa Sioux. He was a prominent war chief during the expeditions of General Sully in 1863-4. H> said that in the days of his power, he fought to kill soldiers only. With citizens, trappers and woodchoppers, he was sat- ished when he gave them a good scare occa- sionally. He claimed to have frequently interfered to save their lives from the ven- geance of his followers. One dark night in October, 1879, while alone at the Rendezvous, I wasdisturbed from late reading by the violent barking'of the watch dog; but on going out to investigate found nothing. After a short time the bark’ ing Was resumed again, more violent than 152 TWENTY YEARS ever. I took up the gun, and after making a circle around the stockade, went to the river bank but nothing could be seen, At thisI re- turmed and entered the house, when some one with head muffled in a blanket was setting before the lighted fireplace, and deigned not to notice my approach. [knew that habit was Indian, though I quietly asked in English who was there. No answer. I then asked the same in Sioux, still. no answer. Then in Aricaree. At this the flgure arose, dropped the blanket mask, and revealed an Indian woman in tears. ‘Don’t you know me?”? she sobbed, “I am Mrs. I-knew her. I remembered her, as but yesterday the handsome Indian wife of arich white trader; a position where every her want anticipated, every whim gratified. A position, too, that brought envy that iipened on the reckoning. Her husband was ambitious and proud. He was brave as a lion in battle, but in facing the social world and its imperious law, a cow- ard. When that section was Indian land and under Indian daminion, his Indian wife who, as aqueen among her tribe, he delighted to do her honor. But now with his own race lo n- —— ON- T2E TRAP LINE. 153 inant and they the red race dispised. A frivolous excuse he cast the mother of his children from him, and married one of his own race that his business prospects might not be lessoned or his social standing impaired. Poor Indian what of her. She had returned to her people to be rediculed—misfortune more often brings that, than simpathy— from elegant mansion or Indian lodge. This Indian woman had just been trying to see her children, but failed. On her gloomy 1eturn she had been beset by drunken men; had fled in deep timber and lay hiding without eating for two days. She remained at my place until I could communicate with her friends, when she was taken to the agency. If ever | was thrown in the prescence of a broken heart, it was during the few days stay _of this Indian woman at the stockade. Her ,pleadings that she might see her children once again—for they had been taken long _ ago to a distant State—ring yet in my ears in | en less chime. Though she was at this time comparatively voung, healthy and strong, yet but a few months passed when Sharp Horn, the medi- - 154 TWENTY YEARS “7 &.. : Gops-- © eine man or chief priest of the Aricarees, came to me to say the woman was dead. “She cried herself,” he said ‘‘into her grave.’” In some of these closing pages I hu ‘ shown how the deer, elk, and antelope were | | destroyed inonesection. Throughout the wilc west, tt was very much the same uni) ‘) Great Plains are no longer reckoned oneoft the wild game preserves in the Natio: Wild buffalo have many years since, one out of the wild game lists forever. In the Dakotas, the poisoning of the little fox-like swift, gave the gophers a chanee to mu tiply by the million, and thousands of | acres of grain are annually destroyed. To save | their crops poisoned seeds are sown broadcast, | and birds of all kinds must suffer. Among the birds thus disappearing Is the | little yellow breasted prairie lark, prized for its song of four notes, which it sings so sweetly | every summer morning. It will be sadly missed. by the lonely prairie denizens In - that half desert land. | THE END. ee of ee ee «! : i : Pe Bs ; ; i Pte nt rt Rar ay Wut CAA 1, fe a i 5 ¥ VU , a) 2 i] a) em bl i) he - 1) ae ‘a ats) Vy 1 eek heh ae “0 - i} 4" Apes id i : i} nivs 4