CHAPTER XIII
POACHERS
The behavior of the deer in the yard had puzzled Upton not a little. Hecould evolve no theory to account for it. Why at this season of the yearshould those two does have appeared so terror stricken at his approach,and why should the buck have been in such an ugly mood? From allaccounts he had read, and from what Pat had said, he had had goodgrounds for expecting the animals to be fairly tame. He put the matterup to Pat as they tramped homeward, but his reply was evasive andunsatisfactory. In fact, the big fellow was not inclined to talk. Heappeared to have something on his mind, and strode along with a blackscowl darkening his usually good-humored face. Once Walter thought hedetected a slight shake of his head at Sparrer as the latter started tosay something. He was sure of it when the latter abruptly changed thesubject.
Pat set a stiff pace. He seemed in a hurry to get back to the cabin. Ashe opened the cabin door and looked in a flash of what looked to Uptonvery much like relief crossed his face as he saw that it was empty, itbeing too early for Alec to have returned. This puzzled Walter more thanever, but he held his tongue and forbore to ask questions. He felt surethat in his own good time Pat would unburden himself. The latter at oncewent to work on the broken shoe, replacing the twine with a rawhidethong made pliable by soaking in water. This would contract in dryingand the broken frame would be stronger than ever.
He had just finished the job when Alec came in with two marten. "Anysigns of our friends, the enemy?" asked Pat whimsically.
Alec shook his head. "No one has been near the traps," he replied. "Idinna think they will dare come so near the cabin."
"You've got another guess coming, Alec," retorted Pat. "The murtheringthaves killed two deer within a mile of here yesterday."
"What!" exclaimed Walter and Hal in unison, while Alec suspended hisskinning knife in mid air and shot a keen glance at Pat.
"It's a fact," Pat went on. "Sparrer will tell you so."
Sparrer nodded in confirmation of Pat's surprising statement.
"But we didn't hear any guns," protested Hal.
"No," replied Pat, "for the very good reason that no guns were fired.They were not hunting; they were butchering." Then he graphicallydescribed for Alec's benefit Upton's experience with the buck thatmorning, and the story lost nothing in the telling. "Walt," hecontinued, "knows enough about deer to realize that the deer he saw didnot behave as he expected they would, and he's been puzzling over itever since. I'll tell you the reason. They've been hunted and harried inthat yard till their nerves are on the jump so that they will run fromtheir own shadows, all but the buck, and I guess now after his scrapwith the snow-shoe he will be as bad as the does. As it was he wassimply fighting mad, knowing their helplessness outside the yard.Ordinarily he would have simply trotted off quietly with the does. Butthey were hunted yesterday to a point where the old fellow wasdesperate, and the proof of it is what Sparrer and I found."
"What was it?" demanded Walter eagerly.
"We found where a fawn and a doe had been driven into the deep snow andbutchered with a knife," replied Pat. "The story was plain enough forany one who can read signs. It was no trick at all for those bloodypoachers on snow-shoes to run them down and drive them into the snow.After that no gun was needed. Besides, a gun is too noisy for thievesand lawbreakers. Walt didn't tell you what he saw yesterday. Fire away,Walt, and tell 'em."
Upton told briefly what he had seen on the peak by the pass and hisreasons for telling only Pat. Alec's face hardened as he listened and asteely glint crept into his eyes. When Walter had finished Patcontinued.
"You fellows wondered why I was so keen on getting back to the cabin. Itwas because I don't believe it is safe to leave it unguarded. As long asthe snow was soft those thieves kept away from the Hollow, but withthis crust to leave no tracks they've come down here, and they've beenwatching us. They know how many of us are here and are watching ourmovements. They'd raid the cabin in a minute if they saw the chance. Butas long as anybody is here they'll keep out of sight. Hereafter we'llleave a guard when we go out. To-morrow Alec and I will start beforedaybreak to look for those fellows and leave you youngsters to amuseyourselves. I have an idea that their camp isn't so far away as Alecthought it was. Now we'll have dinner, and this afternoon Alec and Iwill look over a couple of the short lines, one of you can keep guardhere and the other two can go with us or do anything else you please."
Upton insisted that he should keep guard, Hal decided to go with Alec,and Sparrer with a little hesitancy confessed that he would like to huntrabbits. The experience of Christmas morning had whetted his taste forhunting and following a trap line seemed tame sport in comparison. Hewas eager to try his luck alone, and when Walter offered the loan of hisrifle his happiness was complete. When the others had departed heshouldered the rifle and at Upton's suggestion started to follow thecourse of the brook up to the beaver ponds so as to see the houses anddams and then go on to the swamp at the head of the ponds where Spud Elyhad found the rabbit tracks which had ultimately led to his finding ofAlec Smith the fall before.
It did not take him long to reach the first or big dam. It was difficultfor this boy of the city to believe that this could be the work ofanimals and not men, and had he not seen some of the beaver cuttings inthe Bronx Park at home he would have been inclined to think that Uptonhad been stuffing him when he told him about the dam. There was littleopportunity to examine the construction, because it was covered withsnow and was in effect a long solid wall of glistening white. Beyondstretched the smooth even surface of the big pond, with nothing to breakthe dead level of it but three white mounds over toward the north shore.These he knew must be the houses of which Upton had told him, and he atonce decided to go over and investigate them.
As he approached them he discovered several small mounds around two ofthe houses, but thought nothing of this until he noticed that the snowaround them had been recently disturbed, and that the mounds themselveswere not crusted. Instantly every sense which his Scout training haddeveloped was aroused. Here was something peculiar, and to beinvestigated. Could this be the work of the beavers? He would find out.Rapidly he dug into one of the mounds and presently disclosed evergreenboughs over which the snow had been heaped. Could this be some work ofthe strange little animals of which he had never heard? He lifted one ofthe boughs and looked at the butt. It had been _broken_ off and not cutby teeth. Moreover, it was freshly broken. He examined another with thesame result. Underneath was a larger one, and this had been cut with anaxe.
Sparrer straightened and looked keenly in all directions. A suddensuspicion was rapidly crystallizing into conviction in his mind. Thiswas the work of man. What did it mean? So far as he could see there wasnot another living thing in all that great white waste. The vastsilence was oppressive. Involuntarily he shivered. For the first timethe loneliness of complete solitude gripped him, the more so thathitherto in all his life he had never known what it was to be absolutelyalone. From babyhood he had been surrounded night and day by humanbeings, many of them evil, but human nevertheless. Even since he hadentered the woods he had not been out of speaking distance of one ormore of his companions until now. An overwhelming sense of littlenessand insignificance swept over him. There was something sinister andthreatening in the towering hills. He had the feeling that unseen eyeswere watching him and it made his flesh creep. He knew it was, must be,only a feeling, yet he could not rid himself of it. It is a feelingwhich every one who is alone for the first time in the wildernessexperiences.
Then he shook himself. "Youse is sure losing yer goat, Sparrer," hemuttered. "Buck up!"
With this he resumed his investigations. When the last of the boughs hadbeen removed he found a hole in the ice about a foot and a half wide anda trifle longer. Along one end and both sides small dead sticks had beendriven into the mud and close to the edges of the hole. These were aboutfour inches apart and formed a little pen with one end open. Close toone side and projecting beyond the pen through the open end was a lon
gfreshly cut green poplar stick fastened about two inches above thebottom. The water was shallow and presently he made out a steel trapdimly outlined well inside the pen quite close to the poplar stick, thechain fastened to one of the pen stakes.
It was all perfectly clear now to even such a novice as Sparrer. It wasa set for beaver. He knew enough about the animals to know that theirfavorite food is poplar bark. The green poplar stick was bait. It seemedqueer to think of a stick of wood as bait, but this is what it was, andnothing else. He saw that it was securely fastened at the butt end in acorner of the pen and was staked down near the opening so that therecould be no cross movement. It could not be pulled out. The only way fora hungry beaver to get it would be to enter the pen and cut it off andin doing this he could hardly fail of stepping in the trap. Then hewould drown miserably under the ice. The part left sticking out beyondthe pen was by way of a teaser. It would be the first part touched bythe animal and would undoubtedly be cut off close to the pen. Having hada taste of the fresh green bark and no harm having come from it theanimal would unsuspectingly enter the pen to secure the remainder,whereas with the bait wholly within the pen in the first place theanimal would be suspicious and wary of entering. It was all very simple,clever and diabolical.
Sparrer's first impulse was to spring the trap, but on second thought hedecided to leave it alone. It might well be that his discovery werebetter unknown. His life in New York streets had taught him that it ispossible to know too much; that some things are better forgotten as soonas learned. He recalled what had been said about the illegality oftrapping beaver. If Pat and Alec were doing a little quiet poaching itwas none of his business. They would not thank him for interfering. Ofcourse the trap must be theirs. There was no one else trapping in theHollow. The poachers there had been so much talk about were workingmiles beyond the Hollow, on the long line. He remembered now thatneither Pat nor Alec had once suggested a trip up this way. Good reason.They wanted to avoid any embarrassing questions about those queer littlemounds, for he knew now that each one covered a trap-pan. The boughs andthe snow were to keep the holes from freezing over. He counted themounds. There were three at one house and four at the other.
"Youse better cover this up and make yer get-away while the going'sgood," he muttered as he replaced the boughs and packed the snow overthem until the mound was as nearly as he had found it as it was possibleto make it. Then he made a hasty examination of the houses. The snow wasmelted on the tops of the two around which the traps were set, sure signthat they were inhabited. This was caused by the warm air from theinterior escaping through the air holes which are always left in the topof a beaver house. The third was solidly crusted over, a reasonably sureindication that it was abandoned.
Having satisfied his curiosity Sparrer started back to the dam andfollowed it to the woods on the farther shore. He had intended to gostraight across the pond to the second dam, but his discovery of thetraps had aroused his sense of caution and he decided that it would bebetter to keep to the woods. On the broad white expanse of the pond hewould be altogether too conspicuous should it happen that curious eyeswere watching. As he skirted the shore of the pond through the brush histhoughts were so busy with his discovery that for the time being hequite forgot to keep an eye out for rabbit signs. The illegality of thisattempt to catch beaver in a closed season did not impress him at first.He had had nothing to do with game and game laws. They were entirelyoutside his range of experience. In fact, he failed utterly to grasp thepurpose back of the laws and like a great many others he regarded themas a restriction of individual liberty, and a violation as of no verygreat moment. They were to him very much as the "keep off the grass"signs in the city park.
So it was no shock to the boy to think that his new idol, Pat, shouldbe breaking a law for which he could see no reason. But what did givehim a shock was the method employed. This outraged his strong sense offair play. "It's hitting 'em below de belt. Dey ain't got a chance in deworld," he kept saying over and over to himself. "Dey finds de foodright by dere houses under de ice where dey ain't looking for no foulblow, and dey helps demselves and gits a knockout widout a show." Hecould overlook the breaking of the law because it held no meaning forhim, but it was hard to reconcile this flagrant outrage on fairness withwhat he knew of Pat.
"Maybe Alec's doing it on de side and Pat don't know nothin' about it,"he thought, and with this comforting reflection he felt better. As hetramped on his thoughts grew clearer. He recalled Alec's strongassertion that he was for protecting beaver. If Alec had been sincerethis eliminated him, and Pat had not been away from the cabin unattendedsince they arrived. Moreover the traps had been set since the last snow,and that fact effectually disposed of both Pat and Alec. As he realizedthis Sparrer gave vent to a low whistle. "It's some other mugs, as sureas shootin'!" he exclaimed. "Bet it's de same guys dat killed de deer,and Pat an' Alec don't know nothin' about it." He paused, undecidedwhether to go back or keep on, but a moment's reflection decided him.Pat and Alec were out on the trap lines, and would not be back untildark. He would keep on and have his hunt. The news would keep until hegot back.
But this new-born certainty that there were others in the Hollow gavehim an uncomfortable feeling and he decided that he would keep as muchaway from the open as possible. For this reason as he approached thesecond dam he was content to look at it from the screen of brush. It wassimilar to the first, but smaller, and there were no houses in the pondabove. The third dam was but a short distance above and this was thesmallest of the three. Beyond this lay the swamp where he hoped to findthe rabbits. That his nerves were jumpy he realized by the way hestarted at every unexpected sound. The grinding of one tree againstanother, even an unusually loud clack of his own snow-shoes, made hisheart jump. Once he could have sworn that he heard a stick snap behindhim, and for a full two minutes he stood listening. But he heard nothingfurther and nothing moved within his range of vision. Charging it up toan overwrought imagination and chiding himself for a silly chump hemoved on.
Presently he discovered fresh rabbit sign, and this drove everythingelse out of his head. Slowly he moved forward, his rifle cocked andready. Profiting by his experience with Pat the day before he scannedevery little irregularity in the surface of the snow with suspiciouseyes. Presently he discovered a little mound ahead of him and a bit toone side of the path he was following. It seemed to Sparrer that it wasif anything a trifle whiter than the surrounding snow. Study it as hewould, to his untrained eyes it bore no resemblance to an animal. Butpresently he noticed two dark spots, and it flashed over him that theywere eyes, intently watching him. Slowly he started to raise his rifle,but at the first movement the white mound dissolved into a long leggedanimal which bounded behind a stump and was gone before he could get hisgun to his shoulder.
Disappointed, but resolved that the next one should not get the jump onhim Sparrer kept on. Sign was plentiful everywhere, and his hopes ranhigh. So fearful was he of another rabbit's repeating the surprise ofthe first one that as he stole forward he kept his gun at his shoulder,until at last he was forced to lower it from sheer weariness. But inspite of his care and watchfulness he saw no more game and at last satdown on an old log to rest. He was tired and if the truth be knownsomewhat discouraged. He was too new at the hunting game to realize thathis was no more than the usual experience of the hunter and that hischances of success, if no better, were no worse than in the beginning.
The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp Page 14