Trapping in the Maine Woods
by Erwin G. Cressey, '31
In the fall of 1890, my brother John and I decided to go up in the Maine woods for the winter to trap and hunt. We lived on a farm in the Town of Buxton, about a mile outside of the village of Bar Mills. We had been buying traps all summer, and now had over five hundred for different kinds of game. We were going to buy our ammunition supply at Moosehead Lake.
We worked like beavers helping Dad harvest the crops, then, on the day of October 3d, we began to pack our grips and trunks. It took two days to get all of our material together. On the morning of October 6th, we were on our way to the station with Dad and Mother in the old buckboard. When the train pulled into the station we kissed Mother and Dad good-by. Dad handed each of us fifty dollars besides the other things he had given us.
At last we were sitting in a car on our way to Moosehead Lake. Upon our arrival, we went to the hotel, and net morning hired a guide to take us into the woods. At the end of six days we reached our permanent camping place.
The first day we left the canoe and walked for about twenty-five miles, very heavily loaded. There we began building a log cabin, which we soon had completed, thanks to the guide. He stayed with us for about two weeks and during that time we learned a great deal of the life in the woods.
It was on the twentieth of October when we laid our fish trap lines. We fixed it so that each of us had about five miles to travel. The first four weeks, we brought in several hundred dollars’ worth of fur. One day when I was going my round, I came upon a large moose, and knowing our meat was low, killed it. When I was bleeding it, I heard an angry snort. Looking up, I saw a large bull moose coming at me. I did not have time to reach my gun, so I spring into the nearest tree. There I sat for hours. I knew when John arrived home that if I was not there soon after, he would start out to look for me. It was getting dark when I heard a rustle in the bushes and John appeared. He saw at once how I was treed and instantly fired and killed the moose. I was never so glad to see John before as I was then. We cut up the best pieces of meat and hung the rest in the tree.
We made our way home and hung up our meat in a small shed we had built for that purpose. That was the worst experience we had while we were in the woods that winter. We had many more, you may be sure, but I’d still be writing if I told you every incident that occurred. It was the last of February we were beginning to think of going home. John and I arrived at Moosehead Lake, in four days and a half with all our furs and our few other belongings. We sold the fur for $2500 and took the train for Buxton.
In the fall of 1890, my brother John and I decided to go up in the Maine woods for the winter to trap and hunt. We lived on a farm in the Town of Buxton, about a mile outside of the village of Bar Mills. We had been buying traps all summer, and now had over five hundred for different kinds of game. We were going to buy our ammunition supply at Moosehead Lake.
We worked like beavers helping Dad harvest the crops, then, on the day of October 3d, we began to pack our grips and trunks. It took two days to get all of our material together. On the morning of October 6th, we were on our way to the station with Dad and Mother in the old buckboard. When the train pulled into the station we kissed Mother and Dad good-by. Dad handed each of us fifty dollars besides the other things he had given us.
At last we were sitting in a car on our way to Moosehead Lake. Upon our arrival, we went to the hotel, and net morning hired a guide to take us into the woods. At the end of six days we reached our permanent camping place.
The first day we left the canoe and walked for about twenty-five miles, very heavily loaded. There we began building a log cabin, which we soon had completed, thanks to the guide. He stayed with us for about two weeks and during that time we learned a great deal of the life in the woods.
It was on the twentieth of October when we laid our fish trap lines. We fixed it so that each of us had about five miles to travel. The first four weeks, we brought in several hundred dollars’ worth of fur. One day when I was going my round, I came upon a large moose, and knowing our meat was low, killed it. When I was bleeding it, I heard an angry snort. Looking up, I saw a large bull moose coming at me. I did not have time to reach my gun, so I spring into the nearest tree. There I sat for hours. I knew when John arrived home that if I was not there soon after, he would start out to look for me. It was getting dark when I heard a rustle in the bushes and John appeared. He saw at once how I was treed and instantly fired and killed the moose. I was never so glad to see John before as I was then. We cut up the best pieces of meat and hung the rest in the tree.
We made our way home and hung up our meat in a small shed we had built for that purpose. That was the worst experience we had while we were in the woods that winter. We had many more, you may be sure, but I’d still be writing if I told you every incident that occurred. It was the last of February we were beginning to think of going home. John and I arrived at Moosehead Lake, in four days and a half with all our furs and our few other belongings. We sold the fur for $2500 and took the train for Buxton.