Not Much of a Hunter.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1917, 18 October 1884, Page 2 (Supplement)

Not Much of a Hunter.

But He Had a Surprising Bun of Luck. The following story is dated from Monticello N. V., but the location does not matter much. It is just as good a story, no matter where it is located : Frank Kent lives in the Sackett's Pond neighborhood, this county. The region is a wild one. Residents of the neighborhood coming to town during the past week have had much to relate about a recent hunting exploit, or series of exploits, of Frank Kent, who they, declare, is no hunter at that. A few days ago while he was at work in his yard he saw his dog suddenly make for the woods as fast as he could run. In a few minutes he heard the soundß of a struggle between the dog and some other animal. Kent got his gun and ran to the spot. He found his dog and a large red fox fighting. The fox whipped the dog and the latter sneaked back home. The fox ran into ita burrow, at the mouth of which the fight occurred. Kent dug the fox out and started home with it alive. He had taken a few steps only when a small animal flashed across an opening in front of him, immediately followed by another. Close behind the two bounded a large animal. The first two were racoons. They were being pursued by a wildcat. The coons scrambled into a hollow log. The wildcat, seeing Kent, did not stop until it had gone a hundred yards further on. Then it took a position in a chestnut tree. Kent hastily took off one of his suspenders and tethered the fox to a chestnut sapling by both hind legs. He then ran to the hollow logs where the coons had taken refuge, and closed up both ends with chunks of wood. The wildcat still remained in the chestnut tree in plain sight. Kent walked toward it, but it showed no inclination to esoape. Kent stood under the branch on which the wildcat crouohed, not more than twenty-five feet above him. The animal prepared itself to spring upon him, but before it could do so Kent sent a rifle ball into its heart, and it fell to the ground and died almost instantly. Before the report of the gun had died away Kent heard a noise off to his right hand in the underbrush, and he thought it was a cow that had wandered in the woods. He went into the brush toward the spot where the noise came from, and to his surprise discovered a large bear dragging itself along with both of its hind feet in a heavy steel trap, to which was attached a long chain. Kent was obliged to shoot the bear twice before he killed it. After waiting a few minutes to see whether he would be called upon to kill or capture anything more, Kent went back after his fox. He got there just in time, for by its struggles the fox had freed one of its legs, and would soon have gained its liberty. Kent carried the fox home and placed it in his smoke-house. Then he went out and brought the wildcat in. He next took a bag and ttent to the hollow log in which the coons were imprisoned. He removed the pieces of wood from one end and drew the mouth of the bag over the hole. He shoved a stick in at the other end of the log, and the coons ran out and into the bag. Kent drew the bag off of the log and carried the coons home alive and turned them into the woodshed. Then he went out and dragged in the carcase of the bear. He has not found out yet where the bear and the trap joined company. Kent's exploit consumed fifteen minutes only. But his neighbors insist that he is no hunter.