Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 282, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 November 1915 — INTERESTING STORY OF MINNESOTA HUNT [ARTICLE]

INTERESTING STORY OF MINNESOTA HUNT

L. L. McCurtain Writes About Recent Deer Chase Under Guidance of Former Resident.

Before I begin the story of our hunting trip I must first say a few words in praise of our friend and guide, Owen Hurley, formerly of this county, at whose place we made our headquarters and were always made to feel as welcome as at odr own fireside, and I believe I can safely say that there is not an Indian in northern Minnesota who knows the woods and lakes any better than Owen Hurley and I believe that E. E. Pullin will bear me out in the statement, that he can 4how you as much of it in one day as you care to look at. Our camp was about seven milts out from the nearest settlement, where once there had been a large logging camp. The country around us was dotted with lakes, marshes, and tamarack swamps in the low land and with Jack pines and brush of different kinds on the higher land. These lakes are mostly fresh water lakes and filled with such fish as pickerel, pike, bass, perch and suckers. The pickerel are very numerous and are looked upon with about as much contempt as the carp and so-called dogfish of this state. Many fish houses were on the lakes when we left and everyone I visited seemed to be getting his share of fine pickerel. Perhaps I had better explain this way of fishing for fear some of my readers may not understand how this is done. A small house is build about five by seven feet, perfectly tight, so as to keep out all sunlight. A hole is left in the floor about two feet square. A hole of about the same size is then chopped through the ice and the house carefully fitted over it. the fisherman then seats himself comfortably inside, where he usually has a small stove, and begins coaxing the pickerel up with a decoy minnow attached to a string in one hand and a spear in the other, and believe me, they are fine looking specimens to one not accustomed to such 'sport.

Partridges are also plentiful and make great sport for the shooters, and I managed to keep our table well supplied most of the time as I was the only fellow in camp who carried a shotgun, although Emmet and his son, Albert, who are both crack shots with a rifle, would pick one’s head off occasionally just to see if their guns were in good trim for a buck. Deer were there in plenty but alon the opposite side of the hill from me. However, it was not always the case with Emmet and Hurley, for they brought down a fine young doe at 200 yards, hitting her with three shots out of four. We saw plenty of bear signs and wolf and lynx tracks in the tamarack swamps and the boys had great hopes of me bringing one of these animals into camp alive, which they felt sure I would do if I happened to run on to one. We were little late for duck shooting but the empty shells gave evidence of some great sport.—The Cook, L. L. MCurtain.