“I was always fond of hunting, and the first animal I killed was a fox; I was then ten years of age. Even from childhood I was so in love with the woods that I not only neglected school but was constantly borrowing a gun, or stealing the one belonging to my father, with which to follow my favourite amusement. He finally found it a useless business to make a decent boy of me, and in a fit of desperation he one day presented me with a common fowling piece. I was the youngest of thirteen children, and was always called the black sheep of the family. I have always enjoyed good health, and am forty-seven years of age; but I have now passed my prime, and don’t care about exposing myself to any useless dangers.
“You ask me if I ever hunt on Sunday: no, Sir, I do not; I have always been able to kill enough on week days to give me a comfortable living. Since I came to live among the Adirondacs, I have killed _six hundred deer_, _four hundred sable_, _nineteen moose_, _twenty-eight bears_, _six wolves_, _seven wild cats_, _thirty otter_, _one panther and one beaver_.
“As to that beaver, I was speaking about, it took me three years to capture him, for he was an old fellow, and remarkably cunning. He was the last, from all that I can learn, that was ever taken in the State. One of the Long Lake Indians often attempted to trap him, but without success; he usually found his trap sprung, but could never get a morsel of the beaver’s tail; and so it was with me, too; but I finally fixed a trap _under_ the water, near the entrance to his dam, and it so happened that he one day stepped into it and was drowned.
“I was going to tell you something about my dogs—Buck and Tiger. I’ve raised some fifty of this animal in my day, but I never owned such a tormented smart one as that fellow Buck. I believe there’s a good deal of the English mastiff in him; but a keener eye than he carries in his head I never saw. Only look at that breast of his, did you ever see a thicker or more solid one? He’s handsomely spotted, as you may see; but some of the devilish Lake Pleasant Indians cut off his ears and tail about a year ago, and he now looks rather odd. You may not believe it, but I have seen a good many men, who were not half as sensible as that very dog. Whenever the fellow’s hungry, he always seats himself at my feet and gives three short barks, which is his way of telling me that he would like some bread and meat. If the folks happen to be away from home, and he feels a little sharp, he pays a regular visit to all the houses in the village, and after playing with the children, barks for a dry crust, which he always receives, and then comes back to his own home. He’s a great favourite among the children, and I’ve witnessed more than one fight among the boys, because some wicked little scamp had thrown a stone at him. When I speak to him, he understands me just as well as you do. I can wake him out of a sound sleep, and by my saying, ‘Buck, go up and kiss the baby,’ he will march directly to the cradle and lick the baby’s face. And the way he watches that baby, when it’s asleep, is perfectly curious; he’d tear you to pieces in three minutes, if you were to try to take it away.