Becker County, Minnesota - Chapter with an unread heading (no. 1 of those read), 1907 (part 2 of 16)

When we lived on our homestead at ( )ak Lake, in Detroit Township, I had a garden containing about an acre of groimd, in the midst of an oak grove near the house. Tn the summer of 1873 a doe took a fancy to our garden, particularly to our turnips and cabbages. Mrs. \Mlcox frequently found this "innocent looking doe" as she called it in either the garden or the path between the garden and the house. She never made any motions or noise to frighten the doe and it became quite tame and would come up within a short distance of her, and also come up close to the house and remain awhile and then go away at its leisure, but it was always afraid of me.

I once lived almost exclusively on venison for nearly six months. I could never have lived that way on tame meat. I could eat enormouslv of the venison, averaging six pounds every day. bones counted in. I grew fat, and felt well, and weighed more that winter than I ever did before or since but was lazy and stupid, and I could readily account for those peculiarities in the meat eaters after living for generations on a meat diet. As near as I can remember, I ate thirteen whole deer and antelope during that time. I wish I had some of them now.

During the seventies the winters with three or four exceptions, in Becker County were long and hard, and the snow correspondingly deep ; and such winters were usually fraught with disaster to the deer, as they were easy victims to both the wolves and the hunters.

The winter of 1880 and 188 1 was especially severe, as were also the three following wdnters, and during those years the deer had all they could do to hold their own, but with one exception the next nine winters were all comparatively mild, and the deer increased amazingly during all that time.

The winter of 1892 and 1893, however, was long and hard, with three or four feet of snow and the destruction of deer was enormous. Nearly 2,000 deer were killed in the county during that winter, whereliy their numbers were greatly reduced, and again in the winter of 1896 and 1897 with a depth of snow greater than ever before known in the history of the country, they came near being annihilated.

There are a few deer still to be found in Becker County, but it is doubtful if they are ever seen again as plentiful as they were in the years that are past.

The killing of deer this fall has amounted to slaughter. During the season several hundred saddles have been sold to Detroit dealers alone, and they continue to come in daily. Frank Harris bought thirty saddles of one man two weeks ago, and the first of this week a lot of eighty saddles were brought in. Hunters say that deer are more plentiful than ever before, and they attribute the fact to the mild winters we have had, and the absence of snow which enables the animals to escape the wolves which generally work destruction among them. - Detroit Record, December 13, 1889.

Nunn of the hunters in that section. Last week the firm sent down thirtythree saddles, and all has been shipped through E. W. Davis, of this village. Mr. Gilbert says the hunters, mostly Indians, are meeting with good success this fall. From a camp in which there were three hunters they bought forty-eight saddles, last week. Mr. Gilbert tells of one Indian - John Buck-a-nah-gah, who recently shot seven deer and a bear in a single day's hunt.

November 21st, 1892. Hoyle & Nunn sent in their last lot of venison for shipment last Tuesday - three large sleigh loads. The firm has bought and shipped three hundred and fifty carcasses, and taken altogether the deer hunting season has proven one of remarkable success.

Never in the memory of the oldest inhabitant has game been so abundant as this early winter. The Indians at White Earth who have moved from Mille Lacs, and they are many, are great hunters and have fairly reveled in their favorite pastime, which had been crowned with more than satisfactory results and corresponding profits. Your correspondent saw piles of venison stored at White Earth agency and passed many loads on their way to Detroit City for shipment. Celum Mattson has killed twenty deer this winter, Tyler Warren killed seven in two days, Charles Murray and Wa-bu-tus each killed a moose, and there is not an Indian hunter but has killed more or less. They sell the saddles and eat the rest, and it is evident from the number of new overcoats seen upon these Indians and general comfortable appearance of such a large number, and all before any government payment has been made, that they are making substantial investments, and not dissipating the products of the chase.

Probably the largest shipment of venison that was ever shipped from Detroit was sent to St. Paul, Monday, by E. W. Davis, commission merchant of this city. There were 800 saddles and full carcasses and as they were piled up in one pile awaiting shipment they presented a novel spectacle. We understand that this is only about one-half of what Mr. Davis has shipped this year. - Detroit Record.

The antelope is the most beautiful and fleet-footed animal of the prairies, and formerly inhabited the great plains and prairies of the West in immense numbers. No longer than forty years ago, there were undoubtedly more antelope between

It is a matter of conjecture how far East they ever ranged into Minnesota, l)ut it is certain that they occasionally strayed into Becker County.

They are usually found in bands of from two or three to twenty or thirty, but were occasionally found alone. The following' description of the antelope from the pen of Washington Irving is more complete than any I can give :

Their color is a light dun, slightly spotted with white, and they have small horns, much smaller than those of the deer which they never sheB. Nothing can surpass the delicate and elegant finish of their limbs, in which lightness and elasticity and strength are combined. Their habits are shy and capricious; they keep in the open plains, are quick to take alarm and bound away with a fleetness that defies pursuit. While they thus keep in the open plain and trust in their speed, they are safe, but they have a morbid curiosity that sometimes betrays them to their ruin. When they have run away for some distance and left their pursuer behind, they will suddenly stop and turn to gaze at the cause of their alarm. If the pursuit is not followed up, they will after a time yield to their inquisitive hankering and return to the place from whence they have been frightened.

The hunter takes advantage of this well known curiosity and lays flat on the ground in the grass and ties a handkerchief to his ramrod, which he waves in the air. This has a fascinating efifect on the antelope, who gazes at the mysterious object for some time at a distance, then approaches timidly, pausing and reconnoitering with increasing curiosity, moving around the point of attraction in a circle but still drawing nearer, until within range of the deadly rifle, it falls a victim to its own curiosity.

The following letter from the Hon. R. M. Probsfield. the oldest settler in the Red River Valley in Minnesota, will be of undoubted interest to the people of Becker County:

In reply to your inquiry. I can say that I never saw or shot an antelope during all the time I have lived in the country east of the Red River, and only two or three times in Dakota. Antelopes have been shot and brought into Georgetown in the early sixties. I bought one that was shot at the South Branch of the Wild Rice River up on the highlands, but am not able to say whether it was killed in Becker County or in Clay County. William Moorhead, long a resident of Pembina County, N. D., who died a few years ago, saw two and shot one on the ground where Detroit (Becker County), is located now. That was in 1859, i860 or 1861.

I remember him telling about it, and know it was previous to the Indian outbreak in 1862. I consider all the antelope that were seen east of the Red River Valley stray ones; the same as the bufifalo seen during the sixties, but have no doubt that such stray ones roamed occasionally over the whole range of country east of the Red River as far as the big timber.

In the spring" of 1862, while ascending the ^Missouri River, and when a few miles above wdiere Bismarck, N. D., now is located, we sighted a band of antelope on a small prairie on the west bank of the river. The captain of the steamboat told us that if we would go to the upper deck with our rifles, he would pull the boat close to the shore, and give us a shot at the antelopes. Accordingly five or six of us ascended to the hurricane deck, cocking our rifles, while the steamboat was slowly and as silently as possible heading for the little prairie, which lay almost on a level with the upper deck of the boat where we stood. As we advanced, the antelope stopped grazing and all fell into line as is their habit and stood there gazing at the boat until we were within about one hundred yards, when their leader gave a loud "])ah,"" their signal for alarm. AA e all fired at once and three of them fell to the ground. A\'e (juickly landed and found two were dead, but the third was only crippled, and was trying to reach the woods, .\fter chasing him for some time, I caught him by one of the hind legs. He dragged me around for a while, when he was dispatched with a knife in the hands of one of the negro cooks belonging to the steamboat.

The antelope is considerably smaller and its legs are much shorter than those of the deer of Minnesota. An average sized antelope will weigh about one hundred pounds live weight. Their feet are unlike those of a deer and more like those of a sheep, not having any duclaws above their heels.

As late as 1877, there were a good many antelope in Xorth Dakota within thirty or forty miles of Fargo. I found a band of a dozen or more, twelve miles north from AA'heatland in the vicinity of some springs in July of that year.

The panther has been found in Becker County, although it was by no means common. I never came across a white man who had ever seen a hve one in the county, but have met a few Indians who had seen them.

The panther is very near the color of the common red fox, only a little darker. Unlike the other great American forest cats, it has no spots or stripes, except, that the lips and the outer rim of the ear and the tip of the tail are blackish.

Panthers have been found measuring seven feet, head and body, and the tail thirty inches, and they usually stand about two feet high and their average length from tip to tip is from six to seven feet.

In the older states the panther has always been dreaded as a fierce and treacherous beast because of its alleged habit of springing upon travelers from branches of trees and rocky cliffs. When attacked it is a bold and courageous fighter, and the killing of one has always been regarded as a feat of skill and courage.

The principal prey of the panther was the deer, but it seized any smaller animals that came in its way. The mode of hunting is by lying in wait for, or creeping up to within leaping distance and then springing upon it. A panther has been known to kill loo^ sheep in a single night.

Their silence when hunting or when attacked is a notable characteristic, yet on rare occasions, usually on winter nights, they make the woods resound with terrifying screams. They figure largely in books of American travel and adventure.

In October 1872, while surveving and appraising land for the Xorthern Pacific Railroad Company, I came across one of these animals in the Township of Fryberg in Otter Tail County. Although there were three of us in my party engaged in this work, we always worked singly and alone, rttnnirig our lines with a small ctMupass and counting our footsteps by way of measurement. On the morning of the 25th, I left our camp, which was on the banks of the Otter Tail River in section twenty-nine, and started north to make a survey and plat of that section. A fire had been running in the woods, and I noticed among the ashes and burnt leaves the tracks of some large animal which resembled those of a Rocky Mountain lion. I had seen these animals and their tracks in Montana but having never heard of any in Minne- sota, nor any panthers either. T thoug-ht no more about it. Xot long' afterwarcLs. while running' a line in a westerly direction. I came to a lake which was about one hundred rods across, which I was obliged to go partly around in order to continue the course of my line on the opposite side. I started around the south shore of the lake but had not gone far before I started up a large animal wliich was lying down on the sandy beach of the lake. At first sight I took it to be a large timber wolf. He did not offer to run but squared himself around half standing, half sitting, and appeared to be quite indift'erent to ni}- presence. I always had a contempt for wolves, but as T had nothing to shoot with, and did not want a row. I took but little notice of him and made a half circle around through the woods and came to the lake shore about one hundred feet beyond him. I went on nearly a quarter mile, wondering what kind of an animal it could be, when I concluded to go back and stir him up and see what he was like and if he showed fight I would jump into the lake, and if he came after me, I would keep him off. drown him, or punch his eyes out with ni}- Jacob's-staff. When I came within about fifteen rods of the animal I started towards him on a run. yelling and shouting at the top of my voice, until within about four rods of him, when I saw he was not going to run, so I stopped. I then laid my Jacob's-staff" across a little leaning tree, to see what nice aim I could take if I only had a gun. T then commenced to throw stones at him, and the third stone hit him on a fc^re leg, when he jumped up about four feet in the air spitting like a cat. I then saw that it was a genuine panther which would measure seven or eight feet from tip to tip. He then lay or rather stood low on all fours, switching a long tail from side to side and assumed the attitude of a cat when about to spring upon a mouse. I then began to throw at him again, and soon hit him with another rock. He then gave a jump and shot through the air towards me with the speed of an arrow. About the same time, I shot through the air in the opposite direction, and landed in the lake where the water was about two feet deep. The panther made two leaps, covering a distance of at least twenty feet at each jump, but stopped short as soon as T struck the water, about twenty-five feet from where I stood, his eyes glaring like balls of fire and the hair on his back standing straight up on end. He stood there with his 1)ack hunq:ie(l up. and his tail this time erect, spitting and hissing- like a cat at l)ay and appeared to be preparing- for another attack, when I recollected that I had a big day's work to do. and that 1 might be caught out in the woods after dark if I did not soon get at it. so I waded along- the shore of the lake backwards, keeping my eye on the panther for a distance of fifteen rods, when I went ashore and around the lake, vowing that I never would be caught out in the woods again without something to shoot with.

Three days afterwards I was at Pelican Rapids, and saw in Cowles" blacksmith shop the skin of an animal just like the one I had seen, which he had killed a week before. This was a female and measured seven feet from the end of the nose to the tip of the tail, and was undoubtedly the mate to the one I had seen.

A panther was killed a few miles north of Pine Point in the vear 1897 by a Chippewa Indian, a son of North-Wind. He shot it in the top of a tree. Another one was killed by an Indian in the township of Runeberg, in the year 1882. that measured seven feet two inches from tip to tip.

The following account of an adventure with four panthers is given to me by J\Ir. W. F. Broadhead, who is now an attorney at Clayton, the county seat of St. Louis County, Missouri. Air. Broadhead is a brother of James O. Broadhead, who was provost marshal of St. Louis during the civil war, and who was Cleveland's foreign minister to Switzerland. Our hero studied law under Governor Bates, wdio was Lincoln's attorney general, and he in turn was for several years the teacher of Gen. John R. Bates, the present lieutenant general of the LInited States army. Mr. Broadhead worked for me in the gold mines during the early part of the summer of 1864, and left on the first of August to open up a cattle ranch at the head of Crow^ Creek, about twenty miles southeast from wdiere Helena, Montana, now stands.

"About the latter part of October, 1864, I took Smith, one of the teamsters, and taking along the necessary horses we ascended to the head of a dry gulch which had its source on the southwest side of the Crow Mountain, or "Old Baldy" as it is now called and went into camp. After hunting and prospecting a few days, I one day set out alone and afoot to go up the southwest side of the mountain as far as I could in a day's tramp. Wlien passing around the bald open side of the mountain, I came to the tracks of four panthers in the Hght snow, one very large, and three smaller tracks, a female and her family. Following the trail I came to a place where there were some scattering pines here and there. The trees were small, their lower limbs reaching the ground in places and the snow had partially melted away from under them. At this place I noticed that the cubs seemed from their tracks to have been playing around in different directions, rendering it difficult to follow them. I had lost the trail of the larger animal and stopped to consider my course. Just then I heard one of the young panthers squall and looking saw one of them running in the direction of some rocky clifTs to my right. The cub was nearly full grown.

I started after it, but was halted by a deep loud roar behind me and turning saw the old mother under the low spreading limbs of a pine not more than twenty-five feet away, where she had been couched down on the tawny pine needles under the tree. She was lying or rather standing low on her feet, her body almost touching the ground, her tail waving from side to side ready to spring and seemed almost in the act of springing towards me. To act instantly was my only safety. As I saw her I stooped and cocked my rifle, and rested it upon my knee as was my habit, aimed it at her and pulled the trigger, but, the hammer failed to fall. It was a walnut stock and had become wood-bound from the dampness. I instantly again set the trigger and pulled just as she arose to spring. This time there was no failure and she sank down and died in a moment. I had put a minnie slug running seventeen to the pound into her throat and it had passed through almost the entire length of her body. She measured nine and one-half feet from tip to tip. I killed two of the cubs with my navy revolver, and securing the skins returned to camp. It was a dangerous moment but was so speedily over I scarcely realized it.

The lynx is from thirty to thirty-six inches in length, head and body, and the tail about five inches. The color is a grizzly or grayish brown, with the ear tips and end of the tail black and the belly white.

The habits of the lynx are the same as those of the forest cats, generally, and their depredations upon the farmer's poultry yard, together with the fear inspired by their screams at night and the value of their pelts have led to their extermination in the old settlements. They are persistent mousers, and pro1)ably more than repay their occasional theft by destroying great numbers of these pests. Chiefly nocturnal in their habits, they sleep by day in hollow trees and caverns, and in such places, on a bed of dried grass they bring forth their kittens, which the mother will defend with a ferocity that but few animals can withstand.

The lynx is quite common in Becker County. I never saw but one and he disappeared so quickly among the trees that I did not get a very good look at him.

D. O. Jarvis caught seven during the winter of 1883 and 1884, on the east side of Height of Land Lake. Carl Oelfke of that township says he has caught 35 since he first came to Becker County.

Edward Ruquist, who has just returned from a fishing trip near Deham, reports a harrowing tale of an encounter with a female lynx, in which he came out victorious, but not until he had received several painful scratches from the enraged animal's claws.

Ruquist says he saw a lynx kitten while fishing along the bank of a stream and immediately gave chase. The little animal took refuge in a hole and Ruquist started to dig it out. While he was thus engaged the mother of the kitten stealthily approached from behind him, and without warning leaped onto his back, sinking her claws deep into his flesh.

Ruquist yelled lustily for help, but realizing that he was alone, and that he must do something to escape the furious attack of the maddened animal or else be killed, he leaped from the high bank on which he was standing and plnnged headforemost into tiie water. The lynx is not an aniphibions animal and dislikes water as much as does a house cat. Accordingly it released its hold on Ruquist's back and made its way to shore, where it confined its attention to its yelling kitten.

Meanwhile Ruquist's cries attracted the attention of his companion, who was some distance away, and the latter coming up shot the mother with a rifle. They did not succeed m capturing the kitten, however.

Tlie wild cat was formerl}- ver}' common in Becker Count}', and is still to be found in the timber districts. The wild cat is usually two feet in lent^-tli includino- the tail which is very short, from which circumstance it is frequently called the bob cat. I have seen several wild cats in captivity, and there was considerable variation in their appearance, but they all bore a general resemblance to a luonstrous house cat except in color and the fact of their tail being- bobbed off short.

As nearlv evervbod\' knows they are providecl with long, sharp claws, are expert climbers, and in a fight at close ([uarters are dangerous cutomers to encounter, by a man or a dog.

John Stearns of Cotton Lake caught a wild cat in P'rie Township in the winter of 1904 or 1905, which was so large that some of his neighors called it a catamount.

I never saw but one wild one alive, and it was dift"erent in its general appearance, in color and in size from any I have seen in captivity before or since. In July 1878, I was engaged in examining Xorthern Pacific Railroad land about fifteen miles northwest from Bismarck, X. 1)., and a mile or two east of the Missouri River. \\'hile running a line north through Section 3, Township 140, Range 81, I came to a very deep ravine, tbe bed of whicb was at least fifty feet below the level of the prairie. The sides of the ravine v, ere very steep, in some places nearl\- i)erpendicular, and in a ravine was a dense growth of oak timl:)er. On reaching the bottom of the ravine, I came to a pool of clear, cold spring water, ten or twelve feet long and a yard wide. At the upper end of the pool lay what I took to be a rock, or a stick of wood, and without taking any special notice of it I proceeded to unbuckle mv belt, and after taking oft' my tin cup and laying my belt, and pistol, which I carried on my belt.

down on a loo^ nearby, I stooped down to dip up a cup of water. Abont this time the object at the other end of the pool gave a jnmp in my direction, hissing and spitting hke a cat, and was plainly disposed to resent my intrusion to its drinking place. It was an enormous wild cat, fully twice as large as any wild cat I had ever seen in captivity. Its head and body would measure three feet at least. I stepped back and picked up my pistol and turned to shot at the animal, but the moment it caught sight of the weapon it gave a jump in among the trees, and scrambling up the side of the blufif, disappeared from view. j\Ir. S. F. Sivertson, a successful trapper, who lives on Section 6 of Todd Lake Township once dug a wild cat out of a hole in the ground on Section 5 of that township. He thought he was digging out a skunk, when he unexpectedly came to the wild cat which he killed with a club.

The worst nuisance of any four-footed beast in Becker County is the wolf. There are two species, the gray or timber wolf, and the prairie wolf, or coyote, and one kind is about as bad as the other.

The timber wolf is confined chiefly to the forest, and lives mostly on rabbits and other small animals, but sometimes they combine and run down deer and occasionally make sad havoc with sheep, pigs, calves and other domestic animals. They are cannibals of the worst type, and timber wolves will not only devour prairie wolves, but will even eat up their own species. I once put out some strychnine in the evening and went out the next morning to see what the result was, and while yet some distance away I saw a big timber wolf standing around, apparently licking his chops wdth a self satisfied look, so I concluded that my poison was of no account, but upon nearer approach the wolf fled, and I found that I had poisoned a prairie wolf, and the big fellow had devoured every part of him but his head, tail, and a few of the larger bones. 1 have also used the flesh of timber wolves for bait, and have caught other timber wolves with it.

o^enerally choose a small prairie, like the prairie north of Detroit, or the Frazee Prairie, but sometimes attack them in the woods or t)n the o]:)en prairie. When a deer is sighted they will scatter away and skulk around the edge of the prairie, and hide in the brush or tall grass, or in the edge of the woods a quarter of a mile or so apart, until they have the game partly or entirely encircled. A peculiarity of the deer is that when they are closely pursued they will not leave the locality altogether, but will circle back after a while to their old grounds. W'hen all are properly located some one of the wolves will start the chase by giving a few unearthly howls, and start for the deer. This wolf will chase the deer for perhaps twenty minutes, during which time the deer has gained slightly on the wolf. When this wolf is tired out another wolf will take his place, and probably make about an even race with the deer, and when he is tired out a third will take his place and by the time he is tired the deer will be pretty tired himself, and in a short time the whole pack will join in and run the deer to earth, and devour him before the breath is fairly out of his body. That is the way they hunt deer and antelope in an unsettled country.

In the winter of 1 880-81, I was camped near Shell River, in the eastern part of Becker County, when a gang of wolves ran down and killed a deer but a few rods from our tent. The snow was all tramped down and stained with blood for acres around, and this with the head and a few of the larger bones was all there was left to tell the tale.

There is but little difference between the number of wolves of the two kinds now and at the time of the first settlement of the county, although there has been an average of about fifty killed every year. In 1878 I was treasurer of the county and paid bounties on just seventy-five wolves, about evenly divided between the two kinds.

They have probably been more plentiful in the northeast part of Grand Park Township for the last few years than in any other part of the county. Several times I have had lumber camps in that vicinity in the winter, and there would seldom be a night all winter long but what they would hold a concert in our vicinity. ]\Iany a night I have camped out in the fall of the vear when looking after pine timber, in that neighborhood and seldom a night without being serenaded by wolves. Strange as it mav seem, a concert held bv a half dozen live wolves around a lonely camp-fire in the woods is the most interesting and enlivening music I have ever listened to. A covote begins his howl with a bark, the same as a fox or a dog only much faster than a dog, and ends with a howl, whereas a timber wolf starts in on a howl without any prelude, beginning on a low kev and ending high, displaying a wonderful range of voice, and probably the next howl will begin high and end low, thus alternating with a low and high beginning as long as they keep on howling I once was traveling on a lonely trail through the forest, all alone, in the dead of winter, and in the afternoon came to where three wolves had entered the trail ahead of me, and I followed their tracks all the afternoon, and they were still ahead when I camped for the night. My camp was in a thicket of fir balsam trees, by a small stream of water at the foot of a big hill. It was one of the coldest nights on record, with about a foot of snow. Soon after dark I had a fire kindled, and was frying some pork and venison for supper when I heard a sniffing across the creek followed by a combination of howls there were my three wolves, half sitting, half standing, about four rods away. It was a grand and interesting picture, those three large, plump and vigorous animals, engaged in the full display of their vocal powers. They looked so sleek and well fed that I was not afraid of them in the least. I had no fire-arms and had even broken the handle out of my axe, so for lack of any other amusement I began throwing fire brands at the wolves. They were now thoroughly frightened, and l)egan to scamper away among the trees as fast as their legs could carry them. It was not more than half an hour, however, before they came back, and resumed their former ixisitions Init kept very cjuiet after that, and as I had no more firebrands to spare I let them alone, and they were still there when I went to bed, and as' I soon fell asleep I never knew what became of them.

In the winter of 1862-63 I killed fifty-two wolves, and twelve the next winter, but that was not in Becker County. Some of them I shot, some I trapped and some I poisoned. They were about half prairie wolves and half timber wolves. Some of them were of enormous size, and of all shades of color from nearly black to white. One of them, alxnit the largest of all, was entirely wdiite. It is much easier to shoot or trap a wolf than it is to poison one, especially after a few have l)een poisoned, as the hunters of Becker County well know, but there is once in a while an exception. I once fixed up a strong dose of strychnine and at night put it out a few rods from my camp. Nothing came to it that night, but the next morning after I was up, and sitting in plain sight, a wolf came up. and after making about three circles around the bait approaching a little nearer all the time finally grabbed a ])iece of meat and swallowed it. He then went through about the same performance as before and carried another piece a short distance and swallowed it also. This was repeated the fourth time when he took a piece and started away, and ran into a thicket of willows a few rods ofl:'. I took my rifie and followed into the thicket to see what became of him. He had gone through to an opening on the other side and was going through all sorts of motions, walking stiff-legged, standing on his hind feet, turning summersaults, and finally gave a jump into the air and fell dead to the ground. It was not more than ten minutes from the time he ate the first mouthful until he was dead.

On another occasion I fastened a piece of meat on the pan of my wolf trap without thinking what the result might be, and the next morning found the trap gone. There was a light snow on the ground, and the tracks of a large wolf led away from the place, but there was no trace of the trap along his trail, but I could see where the chain had dragged through the snow. After following the trail for a mile or so I came to where the wolf was lying down behind a big pine tree. He jumped up to run, but stepped on the chain and turned a summersault, and then went on about as fast as though he had no trap about him. From what I could see of the trap I thought he was carrying it in his mouth. I had no gun to shoot him with and he was soon out of sight. I now followed his tracks until I came to where he had undertaken to cross a creek and had broken through the ice. The weight of the trap was keeping his head under water, but I soon pulled him out and found that the trap had him by the end of the nose, by a good strong hold just back of the tushes. After a few minutes of good hard blowing, and shaking himself a couple of times, he appeared to be pretty well restored to life, but thoroughly cowed down, and as he did not show any disposition to fight, I thought I would try and lead him home to camp and show him to my three partners. I cut a good, stout choke-cherrv club and started off. He led all right for a short distance, when all at once he gave a spring- and with his forepaws tore a leg nearly off my old pants, and scratched my leg severely. Concluding that he was entirely too frisky for a pet I laid him out with my choke-cherry club.

A few years ago L. C. McKinstry proceeded to stock his farm, a mile south of Audubon, with sheep. The wolves, however, caused him no end of trouble, and as he is a man of many recourses he concluded to head off the wolves by taking the sheep over to a large island in Little Cormorant Lake, on the line between Audubon and Lake Eunice. This island contains 160 acres or more, and if I remember rightly is a quarter of a mile from the mainland in the narrowest place. He expected of course the wolves would cross over when the lake was frozen but when the ice was gone in the spring he fancied his troubles were over and commenced to sleep as only a man can sleep who is thoroughly honest and has gained an important victory over his enemies. His peace of mind, however, was (loomed to be of short duration, for going on over to salt his sheep in the spring he found that the wolves had been there ahead of him, and that the island was strewn with wool and bones and that a large quantity of mutton had disappeared. He then proceeded to enclose his pasture at home with woven wire netting, but the wolves were not to be defeated by any such arrangement, for they soon commenced to dig under this fence and crawl through into the pasture.

Last Thursday morning as Oscar and Peter Olson were coming to school they saw a wolf in Lewie Holmes' field, just south of the school house. Mr. Wolf immediately showed fight and the boys valiantly fought him with stones and chunks of frozen mud. 0!e Raaen, who had spent the night at Mr. Olson's, and who was with the boys, threw a chunk of mud that knocked the wolf over. Then Oscar rushed up and hurled a huge piece of frozen mud on his head which killed him. The boys carried the wolf to Mr. Olson's, and Friday Oscar took the hide to Detroit to receive the bounty. The boys are quite proud of their capture, as well they may be.

The prairie wolf so much resembles the timber wolf in appearance and general character that in most instances a description of the one will render a lengthy description of the <^ther unnecessary. The coyote is but a trifle more than half as large as the timber wolf, and is a shade lighter in color. The timber wolf and coyote were about equal in point of numbers when this country l)e.Li"an to settle np. l)ut the tiniljer woh^es have l)ecome a Httle fewer, \vhile the coyotes have not only held their own. but have positix'ely increased durint;' the last twenty years. In the early days a coyote would occasionally swallow a tempting- morsel of meat that had been poisoned, but after seeing a few of their companions go through the terrible spasmodic ordeal of strychnine poisoning they became exceedingly shy, and no matter how alluring the bait, it is now almost impossible to get one of them to touch it. I think it is easier to either poison or trap a timber wolf than a coyote.

The pelts of both species of wolves are in fair demand for robes and overcoats. The skin of the timber wolf is much the strongest, but the fur of the coyote is the softest, and the skin being thin and light it makes a very comfortable robe. I (Mice made a robe of twelve coyote skins, all of which I killed myself and tanned the skins. I had nothing to line it with, and the robe did not weigh four pounds. I have slept out of doors many a time with nothing over me l)ut that robe and a single blanket, in the dead of winter, with the thermometer 40'^ below zero and always slept comfortably. 1 had a buffalo robe to spread on the snow, and a fur cap on ni}- head, Init no tent or shelter of any kind. It is surprising how much warmth there is in one of these fur robes. I have slept out of doors, and in tents under just such conditions as those related above, wdth seven or eight blankets and quilts over me, and found it impossible to sleep as warm, as under a single robe.

The coyote has some wavs and habits peculiar to itself, that are a little curious. I once was traveling through a marsh^' meadow north of Audubon, wdiere the grass and the rushes were three or four feet high, when I saw something jumping u]) and down in the grass that I took to be a sandhill crane, or a wild goose with a broken wing. I crawled through the grass towards the object, which I observed was still l)obbing up and down, until within three of four rods of it, wdien I saw it was a coyote, tr}-ing to jump high enough above the grass to get a good look at me. I was now where I could get a good look at the coyote, who kept up his jumping until I arose and gave him a chance for a good look which a]:)peared to satify him, and he started off on a run.

AMien Becker County began to be settled up foxes were very numerous, much more so than at the present time. Xot onlv the common red foxes were plentiful, l^ut an occasional cross fox, and the silver gray and black foxes have been seen or caught in the county.

In the winter of 1870-71, the woods in the vicinity of the Otter Tail River were alive with red foxes. Their tracks were to be seen everywdiere. Rabbits were not as numerous as now anywhere in the country, as they were kept thinned out by the foxes. They were also the chief enemy of the partridge, destroying them and their eggs in great numbers. When the country began to settle up, the foxes began to grow less, falling easy victims to poison. They were suspicious and cunning about traps, but strychnine has been their destruction. I have known them to dig u]^ steel traps that were neatly covered with chaff or with snow, and turn them over, and spring them from the wrong side, and then cut up all kinds of unmentionable tricks with the trap, steal the bait and depart for parts unknown. The bark of a fox is much like that of a dog, only their voices are finer and they bark much faster.

They burrow in the ground, but wdiether they dig their own burrows or not I cannot say. There were formerly so many badger dens in the country that it should not have been necessary for them to go to that trouble. They are very prolific breeders, nine voung pups being al)Out the average size of a fox family.

In 1876, when examining land for the Northern Pacific Railroad Company, I came to a ravine on the prairie, one afternoon, and my attention was attracted to what I at first took to be a lot of stakes driven in the ground on the opposite side of the ravine, all in a bunch. It looked for all the world like a bunch of nine-pins set up in a bowling alley, all ready to be knocked down. Soon however, one of them started on a run over the hill and I saw it was a fox, the mother of the litter. I counted those that remained, as they stood upright, and there were nine : and as I started in their direction they all scrambled into a hole in the side of the hill. As it looked like easy digging, and was only a mile from our camp, I went back about sundown with two men and a spade to see if we could get any of the foxes. As we came in sight, the ten foxes were standing up on their posteriors, by the hole the same as before, and the old mother again scampered off over the hill and the other nine ran into the ground. We then began to dig with our spade, and after working into the hill, three or four feet, came to a fox's tail. I had taken the precaution to take along a pair of buckskin mittens that were in the camp, and after putting on a mitten, I took the fox by the tail, and then slipped my other hand up along his back, and got him by the neck and took him out. As it was about the 20th of July, the fox was nearly full grown. We then tied his legs together and laid him down on the grass. As soon as ovir backs were turned, he hobbled off up the hill and ran into another hole that we had not seen. I soon however pulled out another fox, but he fooled us the same way, and made his escape. The third one we hobbled and put in a gunny sack and he stayed with us. In this way I took out the whole nine, but we did not know what to do with them after we had dug them out. If I took them to camp in the gunny sack, thev would smother, as the weather was intensely hot, so we let them all go but three, and started for camp with one each, in our hands. I had the spade to carry, and the mosquitoes w^ere biting us by the thousand. I had a spade in one hand, a fox in the other, and did not have a single hand to fight the mosc|uitoes with, and as the spade was worth more than the fox, I let the fox go. We boxed up the other two foxes, and I afterwards took them home to Detroit ; but soon became tired of them and gave them to W. F. Ball. They both afterwards got away and one of them lived for a year or so under what is now the Northern Pacific Railroad section house in the east part of the town. The house was then unoccupied, and the fox was frequently seen around there with a strap around his neck. At another time^ I found where some foxes had taken possession of a section corner that consisted of a big mound, that the surveyors had evidently tried to see how big they could make. My attention was attracted to the section corner stake that had been pulled down into the mound, and only the end v/as sticking out on a good deal of a slant. I took out the stake, and ran it into a hole in the side of the mound, and out popped a fox, almost full grown, and away he went across the prairie. When a fox is .suddenly started up in that way. it tries its best to run awa}- from you, and look around at the same time, which makes it look as if it was running sideways. I then poked out another, and giving him a gentle kick behind, away he went sideways over the prairie. In this way I scared seven foxes otit of that mound.

That same year 1876, late in August, when running a line all by myself, I took sight with my compass on a brown looking object on the prairie about fifty rods ahead, exactly in line. As I approached it I saw it was an animal of some kind, and as it did not move I supposed it was dead. When within a few steps, I saw it was a large red fox, stretched out at full length on the grass, fast asleep. I kept on silently until within a yard of the fox, and could easily have struck him with my Jacob stafif, but it seemed too much like murder to take advantage of his slumbers. In another second, however, he bounded into the air like a rubber football, and away he ran sideways across the prairies looking backward to see what I was doing.

The cross fox is said to be a cross between the red and silver grey fox and is marked sometimes strongly, and sometimes indistinctly with a dark cross on the back and shoulders. In 1888. a fine large cross fox had a den on Section 22 in Erie, about half a mile west of the county bridge, w'here John Shoenberger now lives. I saw this fox several times and he was a beautv.

The silver grey fox is much rarer and is a dark colored fox with the hairs tipped with a light silvery color. His tail is black with a white tip.

The silver grey fox is (iccasionall}- found in this county, but like the black fox it was but seldom met with, not only in Becker County but in all parts of the country. I never saw a live one in this county, and never saw a wild one anywhere.

The animals seen in this picture I found up on the north shore of Lake Superior, near Port Arthur, in a state of captivity, and although they were a year and a half old, and were captured when quite young, they were still very wild. Xotwithstanding they had a comfortable board kennel to live in, as shown in the picture, they had honeycombed the ground with their dens and burrows, as far as the length of their chains would permit. Thev were so wild they would not allow the photographer to come near enough to take a picture of sufficient size to do them justice, and thev were much finer and better looking animals than what they are here represented to be.

The photographer in a letter says: "I could not go any closer for fear they Avould break the chain. They seemed to think the camera had come for them and jumped around so that I had to go aw a}' for awhile."

Manv vears ago, I think it was: in the winter of 1874 and 75, Gabriel Halverson, who was then liAdng on his homestead in Section 21 of Richwood Township, had the misfortune to lose an (IX. and a night or two afterwards as wolves and foxes were quite numerous in the neighborhood, he set a steel tra]) near the dead ox, and caught a siher grey fox, the skin of which was worth more than the ox when alive.

A silver grey fox was seen running- across the prairie nortli of town on last Monday. A Norwegian who had noticed him. started in pursuit with several dogs, but sly Rrynar 1 took to the woods and escaped. A silver grey fox skin is worth between thirty and forty dollars any day and the animal is therefore much hunted and rarely found.

Black Fox

The black fox differs from the silver grey in being' of a darker color, some of them being almost entirely black. The end of their tail, however, is tipped with white. The black fox is very rare.

Wm. Uran came down from White Earth Monday with a load of venison. He says that he shot a black fox near Twin Lakes one day last week. A black fox is a rare animal and there never was but one or two

George A. Morison, of White Earth, one of the veteran fur traders of the Northwest, has this to say with reference to the foxes of Becker County.

Red foxes were quite abundant, and now and then a few cross foxes, some silver greys and an occasional black fox would be caught. The latter were so scarce that I am led to believe they were stray visitors from the far north - both the black and the silver grey being separate species, but the cross is a mixture of the red and silver grey. Some three years ago, a black fox was reported seen in 143-41 and seemed to be a regular resident of that township. Many tried to get him, but their failure to do so would seem to justify the old belief of the Indians, that the black fox is a Monedo, or devil, and is ten times "cuter" than his red cousin.

1 (lid not sup]X)se there had ever l)een a grizzly bear in Minnesota, and especially in Becker County, but in reading Alexander I fenry's journal I can:e across the following :

"Oct. 17th, 1800 - During my absence, my hunter killed a large grizzly bear, about a mile from the fort. Grizzly bears are not very numerous along Red River, but are quite plentiful farther west along the Sheyenne River."*

Peter Parker, a Pine Point Indian, who has a clear head and a remarkably good memory says, there was a large grizzly bear killed in the Smoky Hills a little south of the Shell River in what is now the town of Carsonville, in the fall of 1875. It was killed by an Indian by the name of Wah-yah-ge-gah-bow, who sold the skin to John Beaulieu.

bear a few miles south of Lake Itasca, which would make the locatiou about on Section lo of Savannah Township, in Becker County. The snow was ver\- deep that spring and stayed on the ground until late in April, in traveling through the woods on snowshoes, he came to a large hole in the ground four or five feet in diameter. Almost simultaneousl\- with the discovery of the hole he heard a loud noise like the chattering of teeth, accompanied by a noise between a howl and a growl, which he at once recognized as cc^ning from some member of the bear famih'. lie was armed with a (l()uhle-l)arreled sh(Ugun loadetl with small shot but he instantly sli])ped a bullet into each barrel, which he had no sooner done than a bear of monstrous size, and of a grizzl\- grey color emerged from the hole. As soon as she came in sight he fired both barrels at her head but instead killing her outright as he expected, both balls glanced from her skull without entering the brain. The shots, however, had the efifect of stunning the bear for a minute, after which she started for the hunter, but owing to the depth of the snow and its soft condition, and the dazed condition of the bear, he soon ran away from her. and returning the next da}' with three other Indians, and a Winchester rifie or two, they tracked the bear into a tamarack swamp, where they found her still alive but considerably bewildered, where they soon killed her.

Xorth-Wind said she was as large as an ordinary cow and would weigh at least 700 pounds. On returning to the den they found three culxs onlv a few days old, of the same grizzly gray color as their mother, which they killed and brought along with them.

In the spring of 1S63, with eight companions, I was just beginning mining operations on the Prickly Pear Creek, in Montana, a few miles from where the city of Helena now stands, although there were no wdiite people at that time living within sixty miles of us. One evening in April while getting our suppers a large grizzly bear came up within fifty feet of where we were camped, raised himself on his hind legs and began snififing the air, attracted no doubt by the savory odor of the venison that we were frying. He was a giant in proportions, and looking back from the present time, through a lapse of fortytwo vears it seems as thou2"h he stood ten feet tall. (Jne of our men l)y the name of Graves who happened to have his rifle near at hand, fired at the bear, hitting him just under the eye. Tlie l)ear dropped to the ground apparently dead, and we gathered around him with our knives, waiting for him to give his farewell kick, when we expected to have the satisfaction of taking off his hide. I was going to shoot him again but old man W'ithrow objected, saying I would spoil his skin. In the meantime a stream of blood as large as my finger was spurting out of the bullet hole under his eye. Finally just as we were al)out to turn him up on his back to commence skinning, he flopped himself over onto his feet as nimble as a cat, and started oft' down the creek on a run. We fired several shots at him as he ran but to no purpose. We followed him down the creek for three miles, when he ran into a patch of low willow brush, and as it was then dark we gave up the chase. It is extremely dangerous to follow a grizzly bear into the brush. You may be able to see their trail for quite a distance ahead, when all at once they will pounce upon yoit from the side, having gone around and lain down alongside of where they had passed a few minutes before.

The next October this same man Graves had a narrow escape from this same bear, in this same patch of brush. He was trailing the bear when all at once it came upon him from the side, so suddenly that he barely had time to shoot, and although he was hardly an arm's length away he missed the bear altogether. Graves then struck the bear over the head with the butt of his gun which knocked him down, but' shivered the stock to pieces. He then seized the barrel of his gun and struck him over the small of the back, which knocked him down the second time but he was on his feet again in an instant. He knocked him down in this way six or seven times, by which time Graves was nearly exhausted, and he began to feel that he must soon give up the fight, when it appears that the bear was seized with the same kind of feelings, for all at once he turned and ran, leaving Graves master of the field. Graves came back to our camp without any coat, hat, knife or gun, but with the print of four great claws across his cheek. Two of our men went back with him and they killed the bear. The scar where Graves had shot him the spring before was plainly visible. This bear, head and body included, measured more than eight feet in length, and weighed 850 pounds. He was killed only a few rods from where the Northern Pacific passenger depot at East Helena now stands.

The Black Bear is still quite common in Becker County, nearly as much so as when the county was first settled. This bear is quite a formidable animal, but is seldom known to attack human beings except when at bay, or wounded, or in defense of its young. There are exceptions, however, an instance of which I will relate further on.

The habits of the black bear are well known. They generally live in the ground in the winter and always hibernate in this latitude, coming out slick and fat in the spring. Their dens are sometimes nothing more than a mass of tree tops and brush, caused by some windfall, and I have known an instance where a surveyor's axeman fell down through the brush upon a family of bears in the dead of winter.

The natural food of bears is berries, fruit and soft shelled nuts, such as acorns and hazel nuts, and roots, of which the wild artichoke is the favorite, but they sometimes feed on skunk's cabbage, and what is still worse, the Indian turnip, or jack-inthe-pulpit, which has a juice when green, the most acrid and fiery of any plant in the country, burning the mouth worse than red pepper. They are very fond of sweet apples, but generally give sour apples a wide berth. They are also fond of flesh, particularly fresh pork, having a special relish for young pigs. They are passionately fond of ants, and in the woods many an old rotten log gets turned over, and many an ant-hill gets turned inside out, in search of these insects. They will also risk their lives for honey.

When a bear is pursued by hunters it resorts to all sorts of schemes to throw them ofi:' the track. The most common of which is to double track. Every once in thirty or forty rods. the}^ will turn half way around and walk back in their previous tracks for four or five rods, and then turn partly back again and give a long jump to the right or left, then they will go on again at an angle of thirty or forty degrees from their original course.

In the month of September, 1877, I was examining a section of railroad land in Morrison County, ten or fifteen miles southwest of Litte Falls. About noon, while running a line with a small compass, I heard the sound of footsteps and a low muttering, between a grunt and a growl, ofif some distance to my left, which I at first took to be some of the Polish settlers holding a confab in their own language. As I proceeded north the noise appeared to keep about the same distance from me, until all at once, whatever they were they made a rush towards me and came to a standstill in a clump of willows and alders about four rods to my left. They then set up a most unearthy noise, (lififerent from anything I had ever heard, a sort of compound noise, something like what you would hear if you would turn three or four calves loose, and set three or four bloodhounds onto them, and the whole six or eight would tune up and make all the noise they possibly could in their own tongues. I concluded that some wolves had caught a deer and were devouring it alive, so I broke down a bush to mark the place where I had left ofif my line, hung my book pocket and compass on a tree, and with my Jacob's-stafif rushed ofif down into the willows to scare ofif the wolves and secure the venison. I had no gun, but I made my way through the brush foir a distance of twenty or thirty feet, during which time the noise had ceased, when immediately there commenced a fearful cracking of brush and renewal of the noise, all of which were fast coming in my direction. I stood my ground until some big willows began to bend over almost in my face, when I turned and made for higher ground. I had seen no animals yet, but I could hear them close to my heels as I ran, and wdien I got out of the swamp, I came to an ironwood tree, about six inches in diameter, which I went up like a squirrel ; never before had I dreamed that I could climb so well, and even took my Jacob's-stafif with me.

Immediately after I had seated myself on the first limb, which was eight or ten feet from the ground, a big black bear rushed up to the foot of the tree, raising herself up on her hind feet and tried to climb the tree. The tree, however, was too small for her grasp, so she stood and looked at me, giving an occasional "cluck" wath her tongue and now and then renewing her efiforts to climb the tree. I tried to strike her with the Jacob's-stafif, but could not quite reach her. Every time I struck at her she would strike at the stafif with her paw.

\\'hile the old bear was keeping me up the tree, four more bears, two of whom were full grown and two were cubs, came out of the swamp and seated themselves on the ground about fifty feet away, keeping up a low muttering all the time.

When the old bear had kept me up the tree about ten minutes, she went back to the other bears and seated herself with them. The}' ap]:)eared to have made up their minds to stay all day. After waiting ten minutes longer, I climbed down, and as the bears did not attempt to follow me, I set up my compass and then started north on mv line, while the bears sat still and looked on.

There is another story which I will relate in connection with this. When I had finished my day's work, I started to hunt our camp. After going east about two miles, I came to a loghouse and on entering asked the lady of the house for a drink of water, and received what was much more to my liking, a drink of milk. She asked me what I was doing back there in the big brush, saying at the same time she seldom saw anvone coming from that direction. I told her I was looking over the railroad coiupany's land, "(^)h," says she "you are one of those 'valuators' that are around here." I then told her about the bears. She wanted to know if I did not know of some better place in Minnesota where there were no bears to eat up the children, and where the children could go to school. I referred her to Becker County, the result of which was that the whole family moved up to Detroit the next spring, and they are now, 1901, among the most prosperous farmers in Detroit Township. The lady referred to is Mrs. Martin Casey. By the way, Casey and his neighbors went the next day and killed all of the five bears.

On the 25th day of October, 1884, a young man came into my office, at Detroit (I was County Auditor), and asked me to go with him and show him a homestead. I replied that if he would furnish a conveyance, I would go with him. He soon appeared with a team and butcher's wagon belonging to John O. French. Before leaving Detroit, we met my brother's youngest boy, AA' arlo Wilcox, with a little single barrel shotgun, and he wanted me to take it along, saying we might see something we would w^ant to shoot. The shotgun was accordingly taken along. We reached Height of Land Lake about eleven o'clock, hitched our team and proceeded to look over section eight in lleii^ht of Land Township, j^'oing south on the east Hue of the section and l)ack north through the middle. Soon afer ])assing" the central point of the section we came to a thicket of young poplars, where there was a lot of fresh earth scattered around, and a lot of small stacks of leaves piled up, and my com])anion remarked that "there must have been some deer in there." I replied that there had been something" worse than deer in there. Just then a big black bear stuck its head out of a hole in the ground, about six feet from where I stood and undertook to come out. It was growling and showing its teeth in a frightful manner, when I rushed up and kicked at it and it quickly slid back into the ground. I then shouted to my companion, "here is a bear." The next thing that came into my mind was a wish that we had something to kill the bear with, a gun, a revolver, an ax or even a hatchet. I had forgotten that we had a gun with us, when my companion called to me to take the gun and give him the compass. I replied that was just what I wanted. I cocked the gun, which was loaded with Xo. 6 shot for partridges, and aimed at the l)ear's head, which was now in plain sight and pulled the trigger, but the hammer failed to fall. I let the hammer down and cocked it again, but still I could not fire the gun off. I fooled away at least two minutes with the lock and then asked my coml)anion what was the matter with the gun. He said that I must have pulled the hammer back too far, as there were three catches to the lock instead of two like other guns. The second was the right one, whereas I had each time pulled it l)ack to the third notch. Having now studied out the combination, I began to look for the bear, but it had disappeared. I then wdiistled twice long and loud, wdien I thought I could see its head down in the hole and took aim half way between the eye and the ear and pulled the trigger once more. This time there was no failure, the gun went otT and here was a terrible kicking for a minute down in the hole and then all was still. The bear had kicked itself well back to the rear of its den. By hard pulling I managed to get the bear back to the entrance, then we got hold of an ear and a paw each and finally pulled the bear out. In going back to our team we met John and Marcus Soper ; they had an ax with them and we soon cut a road to the bear, and they assisted us in lifting it into the butcher's wagon, which was just the thing to haul the bear home in. We arrived at

In August, 1872, W. W. M'Cleod, of Richwood, was gathering beans near his house when he heard screams from the inmates of the house. A young bear had entered the kitchen, but retired on hearing the screams. Air. M'Cleod with the aid of his wife and some strong blankets succeeded in capturing young Bruin.

George Learman, of Detroit, says that sometime in the eighties he was hunting deer over near the Detroit mountain, when some boy who was hunting in the same vicinity called to him that "there was a bear over there." He went to the boy, and was shown a bear that was denned up for winter, but partly aroused, was looking out of his den. George shot, and as he supposed, killed the bear ; laid his gun down and was tugging away to get the bear out of the hole ; had worked at him some little time, pulling and tugging, and while he had Mr. Bear by the head and jaws trying to get him out. the bear suddenly opened his eyes and mouth, giving a half grunt or growl. George was exceedingly surprised, and admits that he was a very scared boy and got away from the bear mighty quick, secured his gun and did a lot of shooting at the poor bear's head before he ventured near him again.

Early Monday morning while IMrs. Frank Anderson was doing her housework, she heard a commotion in the barnyard, and looking out, saw a monstrous black bear making toward the house. She at once screamed for her husband who fortunately happened to be near by. He seized his gun and shot the bear in a vital spot, which knocked him down. He immediately arose and advanced toward Mr. Anderson, who rapidly fired three more shots that took effect in vital places, but did not quite succeed in killing him in that manner. He then grabbed his axe and with some well directed blows finished killing Bruin. His faithful dog rendered efficient service by fighting the bear from the rear.

Quite a large amount of stock has been killed in the vicinity, and lately a number of calves, the slaughter of the latter v;as attributed to the bear killed Monday. It is reported that there are more of these savage beasts in this region. - La/cf Park Local.

Hungry Bear Scratches At Farm House Door And Meets His Waterloo

Charles Oelfka. of Height of Land Township, was chased around his farm-house by a huge black bear. Fortunately, he had left the door of his house partly open, and he dashed through the door and shut out the angered bear, who then pushed and scratched at the entrance in an efifort to force its way in. Mr. Oelfka heard something scratching at the side of the house, and thinking the cattle were loose, he went down stairs attired just as he had been sleeping, and went into the yard. No sooner was he in the dark than he saw the big dark object moving towards him. Oelfka ran into the house.

Then Bruin moved to the window, and Mr. Oelfka shot the animal as it stood at the window looking inside. The bear rushed ofif, and Oelfka chased it with some dogs. He came up to it in the woods and again shot it. this time fatally.

Mr. Oelfka says that the forest fires have been raging fiercely in the woods northeast of Frazee, and they have driven the game from their seclusion to the lands which are being cultivated. In consequence of this fierce fire, it is expected that wild game will be plentiful in the northeastern part of Becker County this year. A recent heavy rain has retarded the forest fires, but the wild animals, driven from their seclusion, are hungry and fierce. - Detroit Record.

One of my hunters saw a full grown bear as white as snow. His gun missed fire and the bear escaped. He assured me that it was not a grizzly, but one of the common kind.

The bears, both black and grizzly, which reside along Red River, take to the large hollow cottonwood trees, where they lie dormant during the winter and are hunted by the Indians in the same manner as raccoons.

But the bears in the rolling country, where it is more elevated, never take to the trees for their winter quarters. They live in holes in the ground, in the most intricate thicket they can find, generally under the roots of trees' that have been torn up by the wind or have otherwise fallen.

The reason why the bears differ so much in their choice of habitations' is obvious. The low points along the river are every sprmg subject to overflow when the ice breaks up. The water and mud carried down by the current make their dens v:ncomfortable. On the higher lands where the ground is free from overflow the soft and sandy soil is not so cold and uncomfortable as the stiff black mud on the banks of the river.

Last evening the Indians brought in some fresh meat, including a large black bear and her two cubs, one of which was brown and the other entirely black. This is frequently the case. I once saw a black bear killed early in the spring, whose two cubs were taken alive, one of them being cinnamon and the other black.

The wolverine is a native of the semi-arctic regions of North America, but has been found somewhat farther south than our range of latitude, and I have it from good authority that it formerly inhabited the timbered regions of Becker County, but never in very large numbers.

In the winter of 1801-02. two wolverines were killed in the vicinity of White Earth and the skins taken to a trading post where Grand Forks now stands. In the winter 1802-03 the skin of a wolverine was purchased at a trading post recently established at White Earth.

In the winter of 1880-81, I found the tracks of an animal, in the Shell Prairie country, that the Indians said was a wolverine. The track of one forefoot was five inches long and four inches wide. I measured the track in the snow with a short stick and then measured the stick in camp.

Old North-Wind, the Pine Point Indian, says he killed a wolverine many years ago with a hatchet, that had broken into an old wigwam, and was gnawing some bones that had been left there.

Old Basswood says the last time he heard of a wolverine in Becker County was about fifteen years ago, or about 1890. I have seen two wolverines in my lifetime, but they were not in Becker County.

When in the gold mines in Montana, in 1862-3, I had a partner by the name of John Peterson. On one occasion Peterson went away prospecting in the mountains for a couple of weeks, leaving his cabin locked. His cabin was built of pine logs, the lower tier of which lay flat on the ground, and the floor was nothing more or less than the bare ground itself. Inside the cabin he left ten or fifteen pounds of bacon and a quantity of dried venison.

AMien Peterson returned he discovered that something had been prospecting under his house, during his absence. A hole had been dug under one side nearly big enough for him to crawl through himself. Hearing a noise inside he plugged up the hole and unlocked the door of his cabin, and was not long in discovering the burglar, which proved to be a wolverine of large size. He at first attempted to make his escape through the hole by which he had entered, but failing in this he backed himself up into one corner, where he fell a victim to the unerring aim of Peterson's navy revolver.

The wolverine had been living high during Peterson's absence. The meat had about all disappeared and he had been occupying Peterson's bed, nesting in the dried hay, but had kept it tolerably clean although the floor had been defiled in a beastly manner.

This animal nteasured nearly three feet in length, exclusive of the tail, which was about ten inches long, and stood about sixteen inches high.

The wolverine is the largest of the family of animals to which it belongs ; such as the fisher, the marten, the skunk, the otter, the ermine, the weasel and the badger. It somewhat resensil)le cub bear in its movements, but much more resembles a low standing, bushy-haired dog in appearance.

As my experience with wolverines has been very limited I will quote from a work published by Professor Elliot Coues, secretary and naturalist of the American branch of the commission that established the boundary between the United States and British America. The title of the work is "Fur Bearing Animals."

In color, tiie wolverine is blackisli, or deep dusky brown, with a remarkable broad band of chestnut or yellowish-brown, running along the sides, and turning up to meet its fellow on the rump and base of the tail.

The wolverine is a dangerous foe to many animals larger than itself, and by the profes'sional hunter is looked upon as an ugly and dangerous customer.

To the trapper, the wolverines are equally annoying. When they have discovered a line of marten traps, they will never abandon the road, and must be killed before the trapping can be successfully carried on Beginning at one end, they proceed from trap to trap along the whole line, pulling them successively to pieces, and taking out the baits from behind. When they can cat no more, they continue to steal the baits and hide them. If hungry, they may devour two or three of the martens they find captured, the remainder being carried off and hidden in the snow at a considerable distance. The work of demolition goes on as fast as the traps can be renewed.

The prospensity to steal and hide things is' one of the strongest traits of the wolverine. To such an extent is it developed that the animal will often secrete articles of no possible use to them. He has been known to gnaw through a log nearly a foot in diameter, and also to dig a hole several feet deep in frozen ground, to gain access to the coveted supply. This propensity of the wolverine to carry ofif traps receives confirmation from other sources. In Captain Cartwright's Journal (ii, 407), an instance is recorded in the following terms: - "In coming to the foot of Table Hill I crossed the track of a wolverine with one of Mr. Callingham's traps on his foot; the foxes had followed his bleeding track. As this beast went through the thick of the woods, under the north side of the hill, where the snow was so deep and light that it was with the greatest difficulty I could follow him even on Indian rackets, I was quite puzzled to know how he had contrived to prevent the trap from catching hold of the branches of trees or sinking in the snow. But on coming up with him I discovered how he had managed; for after making an attempt to fly at me, he took the trap in his mouth and ran upon three legs. These creatures are surprisingly strong in proportion to their size; this one weighed only twenty-six pounds and the trap eight; yet including all the turns he had taken he had carried it six miles."

The ferocity of the wolverine, no less than its cunning, is illustrated in some of the endless occasions on which it matches its powers against those of its worst enemy. A man had set a gun for a wolverine which had been on his usual round of demolition of marten traps. The animal seized the bait unwarily, and set ofT the gun; but owing to careless or improper setting, the charge missed or only wounded it. The wolverine rushed upon the weapon, tore it from its fastenings, and chewed the stock to pieces. At Peel's River, on one occasion, a very old wolverine discovered my marten road, on which I had nearly a hundred and fifty traps. I was in the habit of visiting the line about once a fortnight; but the beast fell in the way of coming oftener than I did, to my great annoyance and vexation. I determined to put a stop to his thieving and his life together, cost what it might. So I made six strong raps at as many different points, and also set three steel traps. For three weeks I tried my best to catch the beast without success; and my worst enemy would allow that I am no green hand in these matters. The animal carefully avoided the traps set for his own benefit, and seemed to be taking more delight than ever in demolishing my marten traps and eating the martens, scattering the poles in every direction and caching what baits or martens he did not devour on the spot. As we had no poison in those days, I next set a gun on the bank of a little lake. The gun was concealed in some low bushes, but the bait was so placed that the wolverine must see it on his way up the bank. I blockaded my path to the gun with a small pine tree which completely hid it. On my first visit afterward I found that the beast had gone up to the bait and smelled it, but had left it untouched. He had next pulled up the pine tree that blocked the path, and gone around the gun and cut the line which connected the bait with the trigger, just behind the muzzle. Then he had gone back and pulled the bait away, and carried it out on the lake, where he laid down and devoured it at his leisure. There I found my string. I could scarcely believe that all this had been done designedly, for it seemed that faculties fully on a par with human reason would be required for such an exploit, if done intentionally. I therefore rearranged things, tying the string where it had been bitten. But the result was exactly the same for three successive occasions, as I could plainly see by the footprints; and what is most singular of all, each time the brute was careful to cut the line a little back of where it had been tied before, as if actually reasoning with himself that even the knots might be some new device of mine, and therefore a source of hidden danger he would prudently avoid. I came to the conclusion that he ought to live, as he must be something at least human, if not worse. I gave it up, and abandoned the road for a period. When pressed by the pangs of hunger, still bolder exploits are sometimes performed, as in the instance narrated by Captain J. C. Ross. In the dead of an Arctic winter, his ship's company were surprised by a visit from a wolverine, which clambered over the snow wall surrounding the vessel, and came boldly on deck among the men. Forgetful of its safety in the extremity of its need for food the animal seized a canister of meat, and suffered himself to be noosed while eating.

'i'he fi.sher formerly inhabited Becker County in large numbers, but I fear they will now have to be classed among the extinct animals of the county.

1 never saw but one fisher, and that one was wading around in a shallow place in a stream of water apparently trying to catch a fish, or a frog, or a clam, or possibly a turtle for its dinner. It was not very shy at first, but after allowing me to approach within a couple of rods, it ran ashore on the same side of the creek on which I was standing and disappeared among the pines.

This fisher was about the size of an ordinary red fox; being a])out two feet long exclusive of the tail which was about a foot in length, and much more slender than that of a fox. Its color was black.

Old Basswood says that fishers were cjuite common about the headwaters of the Otter Tail River until about thirty years ago, when a terrible fire swept through that part of the country and they all disappeared. He thinks the fire referred to occurred in the spring of 1872.

The general aspect is rather that of a fox than of a weasel, but the ears are low, and remarkably broad, being about twice as wide at base as high; they are rounded in contour, and well furred, both sides, to the

The fisher is a larger and stronger animal than any variety of the pine marten, but it has similar manners; climbing trees with facility, and preying principally upon mice and frogs. It lives in the woods, preferring damp places in the vicinity of water, in which respect it differs from the marten, which is generally found in the driest spots of the pine forests.

The hunters have assured me that they have known a fisher to destroy twelve out of thirteen traps in a line not more than fourteen miles long.

Mr. Frothingill informs us that whilst residing in the northern part of our state, thirty-five years ago, hunters were in the habit of bringing us two or three specimens in the course of the winter. They obtained them by following their tracks in the snow, when the animals had been out in quest of their prey the previous night, thus tracing them to the hollow trees in which they were concealed, which they chopped down. They informed us that as a tree was falling, the fisher would dart from the hollow, which was often fifty feet from the ground, and leap into the snow, when the dog usually seized and killed him, although not without a hard struggle, as the fisher was infinitely more dangerous to their hounds than either the grey or red fox. They usually called this species the black fox.

A neighbor on one occasion, came to us before daylight, asking us to shoot a raccoon for him, which, after having been chased by his dogs the previous night, had taken to so large a tree that he neither felt disposed to climb it nor to cut it down. On our arrival at the place, it was already light, and the dogs were barking furiously at the foot of the tree. We soon perceived that instead of being a raccoon, the animal was a far more rare and interesting species, a fisher. As we were anxious to study its habits we did not immediately shoot, but teased it by shaking some grape vines that had crept up nearly to the top of the tree. The animal not only became thoroughly frightened, but seemed furious; he leaped from branch to branch, showing his teeth and growling at the same time; now and then he ran half way down the trunk of the tree, elevating his back in the manner of an angry cat, and we every moment expected to see him leap ofif and fall among the dogs. He was brought down after several discharges of the gun. He seemed extremely tenacious of life, and was game to the last, holding on to the nose of a dog with a dying grasp. This animal proved to be a male; the body measured twenty-five inches, and the tail fifteen inches.

The largest fisher which I have seen was killed by myself on the Riviere de Argent, one of the channels of the mouth of Slave River, about fifteen miles from Fort Resolution. It was fully as long as' a Fulvus fox. much more muscular, and weighed eighteen pounds. In the color of its fur the greyish tints predominated, extending from half way down the back to the nose. The fur was comparatively coarse; though thick and full. The tail was long and pointed, and the whole shade of the pelage was very light and had rather a faded look. Its claws were very strong and of a brown color; and as if to mark its extreme old age the teeth were a good deal worn and very much decayed. I caught it with difficulty. For about two weeks it had been infesting my marten road, tearing down the traps and devouring the bait. So resolved to destroy it, I made a strong wooden trap. It climbed up this, entered from above and ate the meat. A gun was next set but with no better success, it cut the line and ran ofi with the bone that was tied o the end of it. As a dernier ressort. I put a steel trap in the middle of the road, covered it carefully, and set a bait at some distance on each side. Into this it tumbled. From the size of its footprints my impression all along was that it was a wolverine that was annoying me. and I was surprised to find it to be a fisher. It showed a good fight, hissed at me much like an enraged cat biting at the iron trap, and snapping at my legs. A blow on the nose turned it over, when I completed its death by compressing the heart with my foot until it ceased to beat. The skin when stretched for drying was fully as large as a middle sized otter, and very strong, in this respect resembling that of a wolverine.

In their habits the fishers resemble the martens. Their food is much the same, but they do not seem to keep so generally in the woods. They are not so nocturnal in their wanderings as the foxes. An old fisher is nearly as great an infliction to a marten trapper as a wolverine. It is an exceedingly powerful animal for its size, and will tear down the wooden traps with ease. Its regularity in visiting them is exemplary. In one quality it is, however, superior to the wolverine, which is that it leaves the sticks of the traps where they are planted, while the other beast, if it can discover nothing better to hide, will cache them some distance ofif.

Pine Marten

The ])ine marten was once very ])lenliful in the timber portions of Becker County, and it is possible that there are a few left in the north central part, although I have not heard of one for several years.

I never saw but two. One of them had just been shot from an oak tree and the other was running up a low pine and skipping around anK^ng its branches. These martens bore a strong resemblance to the mink, only they were a little larger in size, and their ears were very much larger. They are expert climbers, and are as much at home among the trees as a squirrel.

This animal is about the size of a common house cat, though standing much lower on account of the shortness of the legs. The length of the head and body is about a foot and a half, more or less; the tail with the hair is a foot long or less; the tail-vertebrae are less than half as long as the head and body. The tail is very full and bushy, particularly toward the end, the reverse of the tapering-pointed shape which obtains in the fisher.

minutely there exists a great variety of shades darkening from the rarer of yellowish-white and bright orange, into various shades of orange brown, some of which are very dark. However, the general tint may with propriety be termed an orange brown, considerably clouded with black on the back and belly, and exhibiting on flanks and throat more of an orange tint. The legs and paws as well as the top of the tail are nearly pure black. The claws are white and sharp.