We reached the stream about noon. The man fed his team some oats, swallowed a few mouthsful himself and was soon on his way back to town, while we began laying plans for our camp. We selected a spot on a little rise of ground near a good spring of water, and where there was plenty of small yellow birch trees handy to cut logs out of for camp. We placed a good sized log down first at the end of the shanty that we intended to build the fire place in. Another was placed at the end that was to be the highest, so to give the right slope to the roof, which was a shed roof. We always kept the large ends of the logs one way, so that when we had the logs rolled up it made the lower or eaves end of the camp about five feet high.
There was a slope of about two feet for the roof. We felled bass wood trees which we split in half, and then dug or scooped them out so as to make a trough. We notched the two end logs down and then placed the scoops or troughs in these notches so that they would lay firm with the hollow side up.
After placing these scoops across the entire width of the shack we then placed another layer of the scoops (reverse) on the first set. That is to say, the rounding side up. This made a very good roof but required a good deal of chinking at the ends to keep the cold out, but as moss was plenty, it was not a long job. The second day after we got into the woods we had the camp in pretty good shape, well chinked and calked.
The third day we worked on the fire place, laying it up to the jam of stone, then we finished the chimney with logs and mud. We had a fairly comfortable camp with but two exceptions. These were, no windows, and for a door we had what I called a "hoghole," that was a door so small that one had to get down on all fours to get in or out. On the fourth day we intended to cut wood all day, and were at it before it was fairly light, but before 10 o'clock it began to snow. In a couple of hours there was a good tracking snow and the boys were bound to go out and see if they could not kill a deer. I tried hard to get them to stick to the wood job, but it was no use, they must go hunting.
There was no partnership business in this hunt. It was every man for himself, and the dogs, take the hindermost. I told the boys I would stay in camp and do something at the wood job.
I had been along the creek a little the day before, poking my nose under the banks and old drifts to see what manner of signs I could see, and I had noticed several mink tracks. The boys had no more than gone when I had a fishing tackle rigged out. It consisted of a line braided from horsehair, out of a horse's tail, and a hook baited with some bits of fat pork. It did the business, for the stream fairly swarmed with trout. Taking three or four trout for bait, I was soon at work building deadfalls. It was not long before I had three or four built close up under the banks and behind logs where I thought the boys would not see them.
I then scampered back to camp and went to cutting wood like a good boy. I had only just got to camp when I heard a gun shot away up the creek, and in about an hour Charley came dragging a yearling deer. Will did not show up for some time after dark, but had nothing, though he said that he had a fair standing shot at a large buck, but his gun snapped on him and he lost.
The next morning we were out at the peep of day, each one going his own way. I went down the creek so that I could take a peep at my traps. None had been disturbed until I came to the last one. There, to my satisfaction, I found a mink. As I had passed a small run that emptied into the main creek I noticed that some animal had gone over a pole that lay across a little run and partly in the water. The animal had brushed the snow off the pole in going over it. I gave it no particular attention, thinking that it was a coon, but when I got the mink I thought I would go back to camp, make a stretching board and stretch the mink skin and get a trap and set at the run for the coon, as I supposed.
I will mention that furs were bringing about the same prices then as at the present time, 1907, a good No. 1 mink being worth about $10.
Near the camp was a large elm tree that was hollow, and the fire had burned a hole out on one side up the tree, nearly as high as a man's head. After I had stretched the mink skin I hung it up in this hollow tree, and it was a very good place to dry the pelts that I caught. The boys never mistrusted that I was doing any trapping for small game.