Chapter 37 - The Adventures of a Lost Family in the Wilderness by Mayne Reid
The Pit-Trap
“Cudjo had already completed our deer-park, which consisted of several acres, partly woodland and part of it being in the glade immediately adjoining the house. It was enclosed on all sides by a ten-rail fence, with stakes and riders, so that no animal of the deer species could possibly leap out of it. One of its sides lay along the lake; and a trench had been cut, so as to admit a small pond of water within the enclosure. Into this our bucks were put, and left to enjoy themselves as they best might.
“The next anxiety of Harry and myself was to procure a doe or two to keep them company. There was no likelihood that we should capture a pair of does as we had just done the bucks—since the does or this species of deer are without the great antlers. How then should we get hold of one? That was what puzzled us, and set all our wits to work.
“As we sat around the log-fire in the evenings we talked the matter over and over again. We might shoot one that had the fawns following at her heels; and we knew we could then easily take them—as these affectionate little creatures always remain by their mother, even after she has fallen by the bullet of the hunter’s rifle. But this was a cruel expedient; and mamma, who of course overheard us planning the thing, at once entered her protest against it. So, too, did Frank, for he was of a very gentle nature; and, as you might say, could not endure to see a fly killed, except when strict necessity required it. Yet, withal, this same Frank, and mamma, who were entomologists, as well as ornithologists and botanists, had killed many a fly—as might be seen by looking at a large frame hung against the wall, where all sorts of flies, and moths, and great bright butterflies, were impaled upon the sharp thorns of the locust. I am afraid that neither mamma nor Frank could have defended the point very gracefully with so contradictory an argument hanging against the wall. Harry and I, however, did not contemplate the adoption of this plan—as we knew that the fawns would be a long time in growing up, and we wanted an old doe or two at once.
“‘Can we not trap them?’ asked Harry. ‘Why not take them in a trap, as Frank did the turkeys?’
“‘I am afraid you would not easily get deer into such a trap as that where the turkeys were caught.’
“‘But, papa,’ continued Harry, ‘I have read of other kinds of traps. One I remember well. It is made by building a large enclosure just like our park, only leaving a gap; and then having two fences that run out from this gap far into the woods, and opening like the legs of a pair of compasses. The deer are driven between these two fences, and into the gap, when the hunters follow and close them in. I think that looks very easy to be done. How if we try it?’
“‘It would not do at all. In the first place, it would take us several weeks to split rails enough to make the fences sufficiently long; and, secondly, we should require men, and dogs, and horses more than we have, to run the deer in the right direction. All this we might manage, it is true, by undergoing a great deal of trouble; but I think I know a sort of trap that will serve our purpose better.’
“‘Oh, you do. I am glad. What kind, papa?’
“‘You remember where we noticed so many deer tracks running between two large trees?’
“‘Yes, yes, near the salt spring. You said it was a path used by the deer and other animals, when they went to lick the salt from the rocks below.’
“‘Well—between those two trees let us dig a pit, and cover it over with branches, and grass, and leaves. Then we shall see. What think you?’
“‘Oh, a pit-trap! that’s the very thing!’
“Next morning, with our spade and axe, Cudjo, Pompo, and the cart, we set forth. We were soon upon the ground, and commenced operations. We first marked out the size of the pit—which was to be eight feet long, and to extend in width from tree to tree, as near to both as we could conveniently get for the great roots. Cudjo then set to work with his spade, while I handled the axe and cut off the spreading roots as they were laid bare. Harry, meanwhile, employed himself with the hatchet in getting long slender saplings and canes to cover in the pit. We threw the earth into the cart, and hauled it off some distance into the woods—taking care not to spill much of it around the place. Fortunately the ground was very soft and easily dug up, so that in about five hours’ time we had excavated a square hole, at least seven feet deep. This would do, thought we. No deer could leap out of that hole, we were certain.
“We now placed the saplings across the top, and over these a thin stratum of cane-reeds, and above all this a quantity of long grass and withered leaves—so as to make it look as like as possible to the rest of the surface around it. We then removed the clods, and other marks of our work, put our implements into the cart, and started off home again. Of course we could do nothing more than wait, until some unlucky deer should drop into the pit.
“By sunrise on the following morning, we paid a visit to our trap. As we drew near, we saw to our great joy that the top was broken in.
“‘We have caught something, papa,’ said Harry as we ran eagerly up to the ground. What was our astonishment, on looking into the pit, to see lying along the bottom the naked skeleton of an animal, which we knew at once was that of a deer! We knew this by the horns, as well as pieces of the torn skin that were strewed all over the ground. All around the inside of the trap there were evidences of some terrible struggle that had taken place during the night; and the reeds and grass that had fallen in along with the animal were sprinkled with blood, and trampled down upon the bottom of the pit.
“‘What can it be?’ inquired Harry, as we stood gazing at this unexpected picture. ‘Ha! papa, I’ll wager it was the wolves!’
“‘No doubt,’ replied I; ‘it must have been they. The buck has fallen in during the night; and they have just leaped down upon, and made a meal of him.’
“‘Isn’t it too bad,’ said Harry, in a tone of vexation, ‘that we should have constructed so fine a trap just to accommodate those rascally wolves? Isn’t it too bad?’
“‘Have a little patience,’ said I, ‘we shall see what can be done to punish the ravenous brutes. Run back to the house, and bring Cudjo, with his cart and tools—be sure you tell him to bring the large basket.’
“In a short time Cudjo came with his spade and cart, and we get freshly to work upon the pit. It was now so deep that we had to use the large willow-basket which Cudjo had made some time before. This we slung upon a thong of deer’s hide; and lowering it into the pit, we filled it with the earth, drew it up again, and emptied it into the cart. It was somewhat laborious work; and Cudjo and I took turns about with the basket and spade. After a couple of hours or so, we had added four feet to the depth of our pit, which made it twelve in all. Of course we cut the sides as nearly perpendicular as we could—if anything a little hanging over. We covered it as before, putting fresh leaves and grass on the top of all.
“‘Now,’ said we to one another, as we marched off, ‘let us see the wolf that will leap out of that, should he be only fool enough to drop into it. He may kill the deer while he is in, but we shall do the same for him in the morning.’
“Next morning we started forth again, big with expectation. Our whole party went,—Frank, Mary, and the little ones,—as they were all eager to see the trap, and whether we had taken anything. Cudjo brought with him his long spear, while Harry and I carried our rifles. Frank armed himself with his bow. We were prepared for the wolves every way.
“As we drew near the trap, Harry, who had gone a few paces in advance of the rest, came running back to announce that the top was broken in, and that there was some animal inside. This was great news; and we all hurried forward, filled with the excitement of expectation. We were soon upon the spot, and looking down into the pit. The hole that had been made through the grass covering was not a very large one, and it appeared quite dark inside; but in the midst of the darkness we could distinguish the shining eyes of animals. There were more than one pair—there were several—all looking up at us and glittering like coals of fire! ‘What sort could they be?’ asked we of one another. ‘Were they wolves? Yes, they must be wolves.’
“Putting the rest to one side, I knelt down, and stretching my neck over the hole, looked steadily in. I was not long in this position until I counted no less than six pairs of eyes; and, to my great surprise, these eyes were of various shapes and colours. The trap appeared to be full of animals of all sorts!
“At this moment the thought entered my head that there might be a panther among the rest; and as I knew that he could easily spring out, I became somewhat alarmed, and hastily rose to my feet. I directed Mary to get into the cart along with the children; and we then led them off to some distance out of the way, until we should assure ourselves as to what sort of creatures were our captives. We returned to the trap, and cautiously removing a quantity of the grass so as to admit the light, we again looked down. To our great delight the first animal we could distinguish was the very one for which we had made the pit—a red doe—and still better, among her legs we saw two beautiful spotted creatures of a light cinnamon colour, which we at once recognised as fawns. We then looked around the pit for the others whose eyes I had seen; and there, crouching in the darkest corners, we saw three bodies of a reddish-brown colour, closely squatted like so many foxes. But they were not foxes—they were wolves, as we knew well—three wolves of the barking or prairie species. They were not likely to bark much more, although they howled a bit, as Cudjo reached them with his long spear, and finished them in a trice.
“Mary was now brought back; and Cudjo, descending into the pit, secured the doe and fawns which were soon hoisted up, and put into the cart. The wolves were also flung out and dragged off to some distance; and the trap was again put in order for farther captures after which we all returned to our house, pleased with the valuable addition we had made to our stock. We were not much less pleased at having destroyed the three wolves—for these animals were very plenty in the valley, and ever since our arrival had caused us much annoyance. A piece of meat could not be left outside without being carried off by them; and even since the capture of our two bucks, they had several times chased them through the park, until the noise made by the snorting of the latter had brought our dogs, and some of us along with them, to their rescue.
“But the most curious circumstance connected with this affair was, why these wolves had left the doe and her fawns unmolested. They could have killed the three in a moment’s time, yet not a hair was ruffled upon any of them! This strange conduct on the part of the wolves puzzled us all at the time; and we could not offer even a probable conjecture as to its cause. We found it out afterwards, however, when we became better acquainted with the nature of these animals. We found that of the wild creatures that inhabited our valley, the prairie wolf was by far the most sagacious of all. Even sly Reynard himself, who has been so long famous for his craft and cunning, is but a stupid when compared to his own cousin, the barking wolf. This we proved satisfactorily, when we endeavoured afterwards to trap these animals. We first tried them with a ‘cage-trap,’ similar to that which Frank had used in taking his turkeys. We baited it inside with a nice piece of venison; but although we saw tracks all around, and particularly on that side nearest to the bait, not one of the wolves had cared to venture up the funnel-shaped entrance. We next laid a bait with snares around it, made out of the sinews of the deer. We found the bait gone, and the snares gnawed to pieces, as though the rats had done it; but we knew by the tracks that it was no other animals than the prairie wolves. Our next attempt was with a ‘figure-of-four’ trap. It was constructed with a large shallow crate, made of split rails, and set leaning diagonally with its mouth downwards. It was held in that position with a regular staying and triggers—just as Frank and Harry used to set their traps to catch small birds. The bait was placed underneath upon the staying, in the most tempting manner we could think of. On returning to examine our trap in the morning, we saw as we came near that it was down. We have caught one of them at last, thought we. What was our astonishment to find, on the contrary, that there was no wolf under the trap, and, moreover, that the bait was gone! This was easily explained. A large hole had been scraped under the trap, which, running for some distance underground, came out upon the outside. But the most singular part of the business was, that this hole had evidently been burrowed before the trigger had been touched, or the trap had fallen! We could tell this, because the hole was made from the outside, and through it the animal had most likely entered. Of course, in laying hold of the bait, the trigger was sprung, and the trap fell; but it was of no use then, as the wolf had only to crawl out through the subterranean road he had made, dragging the meat along with him!
“We again tried the ‘pit-trap’—although we still had the one which we had made near the salt springs, and in which we afterwards from time to time caught deer and other animals, but no wolves. We made another, however, at a different part of the valley, near some caves where we knew the wolves were in great plenty. We baited this, first placing some venison upon the covering of leaves, and afterwards putting one of our live bucks into the pit; but in both cases the bait remained untouched, although we had sufficient evidence that wolves had been around it all the night.
“We were very much chagrined by these numerous disappointments, as we wanted to thin off the wolves as much as possible. We occasionally shot an odd one or two; but we as often missed them; and we could not afford to waste our powder and lead upon them. Cudjo, however, did the business at last, by constructing a trap such as he said he had often caught raccoons with in ‘old Vaginny.’ This was arranged something on the principle of the wire mouse-trap; and the spring consisted in a young tree or sapling bent down and held in a state of tension until the trigger was touched, when it instantly flew up, and a heavy log descended upon whatever animal was at the bait, crushing or killing it instantly. By means of Cudjo’s invention we succeeded in taking nearly a dozen of our skulking enemies in the course of a few nights, after which time they grew so shy, that they would not approach anything at all that looked like a ‘fixture,’ and for a long while we could trap no more of them.
“Of course all these incidents occurred afterwards, but they convinced us that it was owing to their great sagacity, why the three we had killed in the pit had left undisturbed the doe and her fawns. They were no doubt the same that had eaten the buck on the night before. They had found him in a shallow pit, out of which, after making their supper upon him, they had easily escaped. Returning again next night, they had watched until the doe and her fawns came along and dropped into the pit; and then, without dreaming of any change in the circumstances of the case, the wolves had leaped in after. But the increased descent down which they had pitched, convinced these wary animals that they had ‘leaped without looking,’ and were ‘in the trap’ themselves; and, guessing that whoever had made that trap would soon be alongside, they were as much frightened as the poor doe. In this state we had actually found them—cowering and crouching, and more scared-like than the fawns themselves. You will think this a very improbable relation, yet it is quite true. An equally improbable event occurred not long after. Frank caught a large fox and a turkey in his trap; and although they had been together for some hours, not a feather of the turkey was plucked by its affrighted neighbour!
“I have also heard of a panther, who, by the sudden rising of a flood, had found himself upon a small islet in company with a deer; and although at any other time his first instinct would have led him to pounce upon the deer, yet the poor thing was allowed to run about without its fierce companion making any attempt to molest it. The panther saw that he and the deer were equally in peril; and a common danger among the wild animals—as among men—frequently changes foes into friends.”