Fifty Years a Hunter and Trapper: Autobiography, experiences and observations of Eldred Nathaniel Woodcock during his fifty years of hunting and trapping.Woodcock, E. N. (Eldred Nathaniel)
General
Fifty Years a Hunter and Trapper: Autobiography, experiences and observations of Eldred Nathaniel Woodcock during his fifty years of hunting and trapping.
Woodcock, E. N. (Eldred Nathaniel)
Hunting; Trapping
When we came to where Mr. Holman saw the bear or cub, Mr. Nelson, or
Uncle as we always called him, said to Mr. Holman before he got out
of the sleigh:
"Perry, that is no cub's track; that is a big cat and I think we will
find him in the laurel patch."
Uncle told me to stay with the team and that they would not be gone
long; that if the track led off he would come back to the sleigh and
I could go back with the team and he would go to Mr. Holman's camp
and stay over night and come home the next day.
The dogs were anxious to take the trail, but Uncle held them in to
the laurels. They had not been gone more than ten minutes when the
dogs began to give tongue like mischief. I could see that the dogs
were coming towards the road and in about a minute saw the biggest
cat that I had ever seen at that time, shinning up a large tree that
was not further than fifty yards from the sleigh. The dogs were soon
at the tree barking their best and in a few minutes I heard the crack
of a gun and the big cat seemed to fly out into the air. I could hear
the cat go threshing down through the limbs on the trees and the dogs
doubled their howling and I could hear the men laugh. I called to the
men to see if they got the cat. Uncle told me to watch the horses and
they would soon be there, and they were soon in sight dragging a
large panther instead of either a cub or cat. Uncle drove down to
where Holman's path left the road to go down to his camp and we then
drove back home. Uncle was greatly pleased over Perry's cat hunt as
Mr. Nelson called it.
* * *
In or about the year '67 or '68, Uncle Horatio Nelson, whom I have
spoken of before, had for years been accustomed to going to Edgecomb
Place, later known as Cherry Springs, to hunt and trap. Wolves were
then more plentiful than foxes are at the present time.
I will explain that Cherry Springs was simply a farm house built of
logs. This house was located about half way through, or in the center
of a dense forest of about twenty miles square. The Jersey Shore
turnpike ran through this vast forest and the stage or any traveler
going through this region were obliged to stop at this house to feed
at noon, or to stop over night, this being the only house on the
road.
From where this house was located there was easy access to the waters
of Pine Creek, which flowed east, to the waters of the Cross Fork of
Kettle Creek, which flowed south and to the waters of the East Fork
of the Sinnamahoning which flowed west. There was no one living on
any of these streams for many miles. This was the point where Mr.
Nelson, or Uncle, as I shall call him, hunted for many years.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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