Episode 12 - Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders

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Episode Transcript

(00:00):
Chapter twenty three, Trapping Wild Animals. Well, mister wood began. I
was brought up, as y'all know, in the eastern part of Maine,
and we often used to go overinto New Brunswick for our sport. Moose
were our best game. Did youever see one, Laura, no,

(00:23):
uncle, she said, Well,when I was a boy, there was
no more beautiful sight to me inthe world than a moose with his dusky
hide and long legs and branching antlersand shoulders, standing higher than horses.
Their legs are so long that theycan't eat close to the ground. They

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brows on the tops of plants andthe tender shoots of leaves and trees.
They walk among the thick underbrush,carrying their horns adroitly to prevent their catching
in the branches. An They steppedso well and aim so true that you'll
scarcely hear a twig fall as theygo. They're a timid creature, except

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at times. Then they'll attack withhoops and antlers whatever comes in their way.
They hate mosquitoes, and when they'retormented by them, it's just as
well to be careful about approaching them. Like all other creatures, the Lord
has put into them a wonderful amountof sense. And when a female moose

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has her one or two fawns,she goes into the deepest part of the
forest or swims to islands in largelakes till they are able to look out
for themselves. Well, we usedto like to catch a moose, and
we had different ways of doing it. One way was to snare them.
We'd make a loop in a ropeand hide it on the ground under the

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dead leaves and one of their paths. This was connected with a young sapling
whose top was meant down. Whenthe moose stepped on it, the loop
would release the sapling and up itwould bound, catching him by the leg.
These snares were always set deep inthe woods and we couldn't visit them
very often. Sometimes the moose wouldbe there for days, raging and tearing

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around and scratching the skin off hislegs. That was cruel. I wouldn't
catch a moose in that way nowfor a hundred dollars. Another way was
to hunt them on snow shoes withdogs. In February and March, the
snow was deep and would carry menand dogs. Moose don't go together.

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In herds. In the summer theywander about over the forest, and in
the autumn they come together in smallgroups and select the hundred or two of
acres where there is plenty of heavyundergrowth, and to which they usually confine
themselves. They do this so thattheir tracks won't tell their enemies where they
are. Any of these places wherethere were several moose, we called a

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moose yod. We went through thewoods till we guide onto the tracks of
some of the animals belonging to it. Then the dog smelled them and went
ahead to start them. If Ishut my eyes now, I can see
one of our moose hunts, themoose running and plunging through the snow crust,
and occasionally rising up and striking outthe dogs that hang on to his

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bleeding flanks and legs. The hunter'srifles going crack crack crack, sometimes killing
her wounding dogs as well as moose. That too was cruel. Two other
ways we had a hunting moose,calling and stalking. The calling was done
in this way. We took abit of birch bark and rolled it up

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in the shape of a horn.We took this horn and started out either
on a bright moonlight night, orjust an evening or early in the morning,
the man who carried the horn hidhimself and then began to make a
lowing sound like a female moose.He had to do it pretty well to
deceive them away. In the distance. Some moose would hear it, and

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with answering grunts, would start offto come to it. If a young
male moose was coming, he'd mindhis steps, i can assure you,
on account of fear of the oldones. But if he was an old
fellow, you'd hear him stepping outbravely and wrapping his horns against the trees
and plunging into any water that camein his way. When he got pretty

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near, he'd stopped to listen,And then the caller had to be very
careful and put his trumpet down closeto the ground so as to make a
lower sound. If the moose feltdoubtful, he'd turn. If not,
he'd come on, and unlucky forhim if he did, for he got
a warm reception, either from therifles in our hands as we lay hid

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near the collar, or from someof the party stationed at a distance and
stalking we crept on them. Theway a cat creeps on a mouse.
In the daytime, a moose isusually lying down. We'd find their tracks
and places where they'd been tipping offthe ends of branches and twigs, and
follow them up. They'd easily takethe scent of man, and we'd have

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to keep well to the leeward.Sometimes we'd come upon them lying down,
But if in walking along we'd brokena twig or made the slightest noise,
they think it was one of theirmortal enemies of bear creeping on them,
and they'd be up and away.Their sense of hearing is very keen,

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but they're not so quick to see. A fox is like that too.
His eyes aren't equal to his nose. Stalking is the most merciful way to
kill a moose. Then they haven'tthe frightened suffering of the chase. I
don't see why they need to bekilled at all, said missus Wood.
If I knew that forest back ofthe mountains was full of wild creatures,

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I ain't think they'd be glad ofit and not want to hunt them.
That is, if they were harmlessand beautiful creatures like the deal. You're
a woman, said mister Wood,And women are more merciful than men.
Men want to kill and slay.They're like the Englishman who said, what
a fine day it is, let'sgo out and kill something. Please tell

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us some more about the dogs thathelped you catch the moose, Uncle said
miss Laura. I was sitting upvery straight beside her, listening to every
word mister Wood said, and shewas fondling my head. Well, Laura.
When we camped out on the snowand slept on spruce bowls while we

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were after the moose, the dogsused to be a great comfort to us.
They slept at our feet and keptus warm. Poor brutes, they
mostly had a rough time of it. They enjoyed the running and chasing as
much as we did, but whenit came to broken ribs and sore heads,
it was another matter. Then theporcupines bothered them. Our dogs would

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never learn to let them alone.If they were going through the woods where
there was no signs of moose andfound a porcupine, they'd kill it.
The quills would get in their mouthsand necks and chests, and we'd have
to gag them and take bullet moldsor nippers or whatever we had. Sometimes
our jack knives and pull out thenasty things. If we got hold of

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the dogs at once, we couldpull out the quills with our fingers.
Sometimes the quills had walked in,and the dogs would go home and lie
by the fire with running sores tillthey worked out. I've seen quills work
right through dogs go in one sideand come out on the other. Poor
roots, said missus Wood. Iwonder you took them. We once lost

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a valuable hound while moose hunting,said mister Wood. The moose struck him
with his hoof, and the dogwas terribly injured and laying the woods for
days till a neighbor Virus, whowas looking for timber, found him and
brought him home on his shoulders.Wasn't there rejoicing among us boys to see

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old Line coming back. We tookcare of him and he got well again.
It was good sport to see thedogs when we were hunting a bear
with them. Bears are good runners, and when dogs get after them,
there is a great skirmishing. Theyknit the bell behind, and when they
turned the dogs run like mad.For a hug from a bear means sure

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death to a dog. If theygot a slap from his paws over they'd
go. Dogs new to the businesswere often killed by the bears. Were
there many bears near your home,mister Wood, asked mister Max Whale,
lots of them, more than wewanted. They used to bother us fearfully
about our sheeping cattle. I've oftenhad to get up in the night and

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run out to the cattle. Thebells would come out of the woods and
jump on the young heifers and cowsand strike them and beat them down,
and the cattle would roar as ifthe evil one had them. If the
cattle were too far away from thehouse for us to heal them, the
bears would worry them till they weredead. As for the sheep, they

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never made any resistance. They'd meeklyrun in a corner when they saw a
bear coming and huddle together, andhe'd strike at them and scratch them with
its claws, and perhaps wound adozen before he got one firmly. Then
he'd seize it in his paws andwalk off on its hind legs, over
fences and anything else that came inhis way, till he came to a

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nice retired spot. And now he'dsit down and skin that sheep just like
a butcher. He'd gorge himself withthe meat, and in the morning we'd
found the other sheep that he'd torn, and we'd foul hngeance against that bell.
He'd be almost sure to come backfor more. So for a while
after that we always put the sheepin the barn at nights, and a

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trap by the remains of the onehe had eaten. Everybody hated bes,
and they hadn't much pity for them. Still, they were only getting their
meat as other wild animals do,and we'd no right to set such cruel
traps for them. As the steelones, they had a clog attached to
them and have long, sharp teeth. We put them on the ground and

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strode leaves over them, and hungup some of the caucus left by the
bed nearby. When he attempted toget this meat, he would tread on
the trap and the teeth would springtogether and catch them by the leg.
They always fought to get free.I once saw a bed that had been
making a desperate effort to get away. His leg was broken, the skin

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and flesh were all torn away,and he was held by the tendons.
It was a fore leg that wascaught, and he would put his hind
feet against the jaws of the trapand then draw by pressing with his feet
till he would stretch those tendons totheir utmost extent. I have known them
to work way till they really pulledthese tendons out of the foot and got
off. It was a great eventin our neighborhood when a bear was caught.

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Whoever caught him blew a horn,and the men and boys came trooping
together to see the sight. I'veknown them to blow that horn on a
Sunday morning, and I've seen themen turned their backs on the meeting house
to go and see the bear.Was there no more merciful way of catching
them than by this trap, askedMiss Laura. Oh. Yes, by

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the dead fall, that is,by driving heavy sticks into the ground and
making a box like place open onone side, where two logs were so
arranged with the other heavy logs uponthem that when the bells seized the bait,
the upper log fell down and crushedhim to death. Another way was
to fix a bait in a suddenplace with cords tied to it, which

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cords were fastened the triggers of gunsplaced at a little distance. When the
bed took the bait, the gunswent off and he shot himself. Sometimes
it took a good many bullets tokill them. I remember one old fellow
that we put a lovin into beforehe killed over. It was one fall
over on Pike's Hill. The snowhad come earlier than usual, and this

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old Bell hadn't gotten into his denfor his winter sleep. A lot of
us started out after him. Thehill was covered with beech trees, and
he'd been living all the fall onthe nuts till he got his status butter.
We took dogs and worried him,and ran him from one place to
another, and shot at him tillat last he dropped. We took his

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meat home and had his skin tanfor a sleigh road. One day I
was in the woods and looking throughthe trees aspied of Bell. He was
standing up on his high legs,something in every direction, and just about
the time I aspied him, heaspied me. I had no dog and
no gun, so I thought Ihad better be getting home to my dinner.

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I was a small boy then,and the Bell probably thinking I'd be
a mouthful for him anyway, beginto come after me in a leisurely way.
I can see myself now going throughthose woods, hat gone, jacket,
flying, arms out, eyes,rolling over my shoulder every little while
to see if the bear was gainingon me. He was a benevolent looking

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old fellow, and his face seemedto say, don't hurry, little boy.
He wasn't doing his prettiest, andI soon got away from him.
But I made up my mind thenthat it was more fun to be the
chaser than the chaste. Another timeI was out in our corn field and
here in a rustling, looked throughthe stalks and saw a brown bear with

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two cubs. She was slashing downthe corn with her paws to get at
the ears. She smelled me,and, getting frightened, began to run.
I had a dog with me thistime, and shouted and wrapped on
the fence and set him on her. He jumped up and snapped at her
flanks, and every few instants sheturned and give him a cuff that would

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send him yards away. I followedher up, and just back of the
farm, she and her cubs tookinto a tree. I sent my dog
home, and my father and someof the neighbors came. It had gotten
dark by this time, so webuilt a fire under the tree and watched
all night and told stories to keepeach other awake. Towld morning we got

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sleepy and the fire burnt low andditting. That old bear and one cub
dropped right down among us and startoff to the woods. That waked us
up. We built the fire tokeep watch so that the one cub still
in the tree couldn't get away untildaylight. The mother bear hung around,
calling to the cub to come down. Did you let it go? Uncle,

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asked miss Lora. No, mydear, we shot it. How
cruel, cried missus wood here.Weren't we brutes? Said her husband.
But there was some excuse for us, Hattie. The bears ruined our farms.
This kind of hunting that hunts andkills for the mistake of slaughter is

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very different from that. I tellyou what I've no patience with, and
that's these English folks that dress themselvesup and take fine horses and packs of
dolls and tear over the country afterone little fox a rabbit by It's contemptible.
Now, if they were a huntingcruel man eating tigers or animals that

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destroyed property. It would be adifferent thing. End of Chapter twenty three,
Trapping Wild Animals. Chapter twenty four, The Rabbit and the Hen.
You had foxes up in Maine,I suppose, mister Wood hadn't you,
asked mister Maxwell, heaps of them. I always want to laugh when I

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think of our foxes, for theywere so cute. Never a fox that
I catch in a trap, thoughI'd set a many a one. I'd
take the caucus of some creature thathad died, a sheep, for instance,
and put it in a field nearthe woods, and the foxes would
come and eat it. After theygot accustomed to come and eat, and
no harm befell them, they wouldbe unsuspecting. So just before a snowstorm,

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I'd take a trap and put itin this spot. I'd handle it
with gloves, and I'd smoke itand rub fur bowels on it to take
away the human smell. And thenthe snow would come and cover it up,
And yet those foxes would know itwas a trap and walk around it.
It's a wonderful thing, that senseof smelling animals, If it is

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a sense of smell. Joe herehas got a good bit of it.
What kind of traps were they,father, I asked mister Harry, cruel
ones, steel ones. They'd catchan animal by the leg and sometimes break
the bone. The leg would bleed, and below the jaws of the trap

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it would freeze, there being nosucculation of blood. Those steel traps are
an abomination. The people around hereuse one made on the same principle for
catching rats. I wouldn't have themon my place for any money. I
believe we've got to give an accountfor all the unnecessary suffering we put on
animals. You'll have some to answer, poor John, according to your own

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story, said missus Wood. I'vesuffered already, he said, many a
night. I've lain on my bedand grown when I thought of needless cruelties
I'd put upon animals when I wasa young, unthinking boy, and I
was pretty carefully brought up too,according to our light in those days.

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Often think that if I was cruelwith all the instruction I had to be
musciful. What can be expected ofthe children that get no good teaching at
all when there young? Tell ussome more about the foxes, mister Wood,
said, mister max Whale. Well, we used to have a rest

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sport for hunting them with the foxhounds. I'd often go off for the day
with my hounds. Sometimes early inthe morning, they'd find a track in
the snow. The leader for scentwould go back and forth to find out
which way the fox was going.I can see him now all the time.
He ran now one way and nowanother on the track of the fox.

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He was silent, but kept histail aloft, wagging it as a
signal to the hounds behind. Hewas lida in his scent, but he
did not like bloody, dangerous fights. By and by he would decide which
way the fox had gone. Then, his tail, still kept high in
the air, would wag more violently. The rest followed him in single file,

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going pretty slow so as to enableus to keep up to them.
By and by they would come toa place where the fox was sleeping for
the day. As soon as hewas disturbed, he would leave his bed
under some thick fir or spruce branchesnear the ground. This flung his fresh
scent into the air. As soonas the hounds snipped it. They gave

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tongue in good earnest. It wasa mixed deep bag that made the blood
quicken in my veins. While inthe excitement of his first fright. The
fox would run for a mile ortwo till he found it an easy matter
to keep out of the way ofthe hounds. Then he cunning creature would
begin to bother them. He wouldmount to the top pole of a worm

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fence dividing the fields from the woods. He could trot along here quite a
distance and then make a long jumpinto the woods. The hounds would come
up, but could not walk thefence, and they would have difficulty in
finding where the fox had left it. Then we saw General's ship. The
hounds scattered all directions and made longdetours into the woods and fields. As

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soon as the track was lost,they ceased to bay. But the instant
a hound found it again, hebade to give the signal to the others.
All would hurry to the spot,and off they would go, baying
as they went. Then mister foxwould try a new trick. He would
climb a leaning tree and then jumpto the ground. This trick would soon

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be found out. Then he'd tryanother. He would make a circle of
a quarter of a mile in circumferenceby making a loop in his course he
would come in behind the hounds andpuzzle them between the scent of his first
and following tracks. If the snowwas deep, the hounds had made a
good track for him. Over thishe could run easily and they would have

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to feel their way along. Forafter he had gone around the circle a
few times, he would jump fromthe beaten path as far as he could
and make off to the other covera straight line. Before this was done,
it was my plan to get neara circle, taking care to approach
it on the leawood side. Ifthe fox got a sniff of human scent,

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he would leave his circle very quicklyand make tracks fast to be out
of danger. By the baying ofthe hounds, the circle in which the
race was kept up could easily beknown. The last runs to get near
enough to shoot had to be donewhen the hounds baying came from the side
of the circle nearest me, forthen the fox would be on the opposite
side farthest away. As soon asI got near enough to see the hounds

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when they passed, I stopped whenthey got on the opposite side. I
then kept a bright lookout for thefox. Sometimes, when the brush was
thick, the sight of him wouldbe indistinct. The shooting had to be
quick. As soon as the reportof the gun was heard, the hounds
ceased to bay and made for thespot. If the fox was dead,

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they enjoyed the scent of his blood. If only wounded, went after him
with all speed. Sometimes he wasovertaken and killed, and sometimes he got
into his burrow in the earth,or in a hollow log, or among
the rocks. One day, Iremember when I was standing on the outside
of the circle, the fox camein sight. I fired. He gave

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a shrill bark and came toward me. Then he stopped in the snow and
fell dead in his tracks. Iwas a pretty good shot in those days,
poor little fox, said Miss Laura. I wish you had let him
get away. Here's one that nearlygot away, said mister Wood. One

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winter's day, I was chasing himwith the hounds. There was crust on
the snow, and the fox waslight while the dogs were heavy. They
ran along, the fox trotting nimblyon the top of the crust, and
the dogs breaking through. And everyfew minutes that fox would stop and sit
down to look at the dogs.They were in of Yuri, and the

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wickedness of the fox and teasing themmade me laugh so much that I was
very unwilling to shoot him. Yousaid, you're still traps for cruel things,
Uncle said, miss Laura. Whydidn't you have a deadfall for the
foxes as you had for the bears. They were too cunning to go into

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dead falls. There was a betterway to catch them. Though. Foxes
hate water and never go into itunless they are obliged to. So we
used to find a place where atree had fallen across the river and made
a bridge for them to go backand forth on. Here we set snares
with spring poles that would throw theminto the river when they made struggles to
get free, and drown them.Did you ever hear of the fox lore

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that wanted to cross a river andlay down on the bank, pretending he
was dead, and a countryman camealong, and, thinking he had a
prize, threw him in his boatand rolled across, when the fox got
up and ran away. Now,Uncle said miss Laura, you're laughing at
me. That couldn't be true.No, no, said mister Wood,

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chuckling. But they're might acute atpretending they're dead. I went shot one
in the morning, carried him along way on my shoulders, and started
to skin him in the afternoon whenhe turned around and bit me enough to
draw blood. At another time Idug one out of a hole in the
ground. He thanged death. Itook him up and threw him down at

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some distance, and he jumped upand ran away into the woods. What
other animals did you catch when youwere a boy, asked mister Max Whale.
Oh, a number otters and beavers. We caught them in deadfalls and
in steal traps. The mink weusually took in dead falls, smaller of
course than the ones we used forthe bells. The muskrat we caught in

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box traps like a mouse trap.The wildcat we ran down like the laups,
said of vi. What kind ofanimal is that, asked mister Max
Whale. It is a lynx,belonging to the cat species. They used
to prowl about the country, killinghens, geese, and sometimes sheep.
They'd fix their tushes in the sheep'sneck and suck the blood. They did

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not think much of the sheep's flesh. We ran them down with dogs.
They'd often run up trees and we'dshoot them. Then there were the rabbits
we caught, mostly in snells.For muskrats, we'd put a paw snip
or an apple on the spindle ofa box trap. When we snead a
rabbit, I always wanted to findit caught around the neck and strangled to
death. If they got half throughthe snell and were caught around the body

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or by the hind legs, they'dlive for some time, and they just
cry like a child. I likeshooting them better, just because I hated
to hear their pitiful cries. It'sa bad business, this of killing dumb
creatures. And the older I get, the more chicken hearted I am about
it. Chicken hearted I should thinkyou are, said missus Wood. Do

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you know, Laura, he won'teven kill a fowl for dinner. He
gives one of his men to doit. Blessed are the merciful, said
miss Laura, throwing her arms overher uncle's shoulders. I love you,
dear uncle John, because you areso kind to every living thing. I'm

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going to be kind to you now, said her uncle, and send you
to bed. You look tired andvery well, she said with a smile,
then bidding them all good night,she went upstairs. Mister Wood turned
to mister Maxwelle, you're going tostay all night with us, aren't you

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so? Missus Wood says, repliedthe young man with a smile. Of
course, she said, I couldn'tthink of you go back to the village
such a night as this. It'sraining cats and dogs. Oh but I
mustn't say that, or there'll beno getting you to stay. I'll go
and prepare your old room next toHarry's, and she bustled away. The

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two young men went to the pantryfor donuts and milk, and mister Wood
stood gazing down at me. Gooddog, He said, you look as
if you sensed that talk tonight.Come get a bone, then away to
bed. He gave me a verylarge mutton bone, and I held it

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in my mouth and watched him openingthe woodshed door. I love human beings,
and the saddest time of day forme is when I have to be
separated from them while they sleep.Now go to bed and rest well,
beautiful, Joe, said miss theWood. And if you hear any stranger

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around the house, run out ofbuck. Don't be chasing wild animals in
a sleep. Though they say adog is the only animal that dreams.
I wonder whether it's true. Thenhe went into the house and shut the
door. I had a sheep skinnedalone into very good bed it made,

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and I slept soundly for a longtime. Then I waked up and found
that instead of rain pattering against theroof in darkness everywhere, it was quite
light. The rain was over andthe moon was shining beautifully. I ran
to the door and looked out.It was almost as light as day.

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The moon made it very bright aroundthe house and farm buildings, and I
could look all about and see thatthere was no one stirring. I took
a turn around the yard and walkedaround to the side of the house to
glance up at Miss Laura's window.I always did this several times through the

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night, just to see if shewas quite safe. I was on my
way back to bed when I sawtwo small white things moving away down the
lane. I stood on the verandaand watched them. When I got nearer,
I saw that there was a whiterabbit hopping up the road, followed

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by a white hen. It seemedto me a very strange thing, for
these creatures to be out this timeof night, and while were they coming
to Dingley Farm, this wasn't theirhome. I ran down on the road
and stood in front of them.Just as soon as the hen saw me,

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she fluttered in front of the rabbit, and, spreading out her wind,
clucked angrily and acted as if shewould peck my eyes ald if I
came nearer. I saw that theywere harmless creatures, and remembering my adventure
with the snake, I stepped aside. Besides that, I knew by their

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smell that they had been near misterMaxwell, so perhaps they were after him.
They understood quite wailed that I wouldnot hurt them, and passed by
me. The rabbit went ahead againand the hen fell behind. It seemed
to me that the hen was sleepyand didn't like to be out so late

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at night, and was only followingthe rabbit because she thought it was her
duty. He was going along ina very queer fashion, putting his nose
to the ground and rising up onhis hind legs and sniffing the air,
first on this side and then onthe other, and his nose going going

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all the time. He smiled allaround the house till he came to mister
Maxwell's room at the back. Itopened on the veranda by a glass door,
and the door stood ajar. Therabbit squeezed himself in, and the
hen stayed out. She watched fora while, and when he didn't come

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back, she flew upon the backof a chair that stood near the door
and put her head under her wing. I went back to my bed,
for I knew they would do noharm. Early in the morning, when
I was walking around the house,I heard a great shouting and laughing from
mister Maxwell's room. He and Harryhad just discovered the hen in the rabbit,

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and mister Harry was calling his motherto come and look at them.
The rabbit had slept on the footof a bad Mister Harry was chaffing mister
Maxwell very much and was telling himthat anyone who entertained him was in for
a traveling menagerie. They had agreat deal of fun over it, and

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mister Maxwell said that he had hadthat pretty white hen as a pet for
a long time in Boston. Once, when she had some little chickens,
a frightened rabbit that was being chasedby a dog ran into the yard in
his terror. He got right underthe hen's wings, and she sheltered him

(32:40):
and pecked at the dog's eyes andkept him off till help came. The
rabbit belonged to a neighbor's bowie,and mister Maxwell bought it from him.
From the day the hen protected him, she became his friend and followed him
every where. I did not wonderthat the rabbit wanted to see his master.

(33:05):
There was something about that young manthat made dumb animals just delight in
him. When Missus Wood mentioned thisto him, he said, I don't
know why they should. I don'tdo anything to fascinate them. You love
them, she said, and theyknew it. That is the reason.

(33:30):
End of chapter twenty four, TheRabbit and the Henion