At this time the leaves had just begun to fall, and there had been no rain for many days, so when one walked through the woods the leaves rustled, and dried twigs and branches snapped, making the forest "noisy."
There were many deer living in the vicinity of Cherry Pond. We had seen tracks and other signs of their presence, but on the few occasions when we saw a deer it was usually only the flash of his white tail as he jumped from behind a clump of bushes and disappeared behind a rock or other screen. Twice we took snap shots, and in each instance the bullet, we found, was imbedded in a tree trunk that the deer had succeeded in placing between the gun and himself at the first running jump. I had also sat many hours on logs watching runways while Bige tramped around a hill or over a mountain to drive a deer past my watch station. On one occasion when I heard a deer coming and was all ready to shoot, he evidently suspected danger, crossed over to another parallel runway, and passed without coming into view.
We had traveled many miles in our hunt, had been over Panther Mountain and Eagle Mountain, had been up Beaver River Valley, and had visited Pickwocket Pond and Muskrat City. We had hunted carefully and patiently, but had each night gone back to camp without meat, and the situation was becoming serious.
Cherry Pond, so named because of the quantities of wild cherries that grow near it, was one of our favorite camping places, and we had spent more or less time there every year for the past fifteen years, both during the fishing and hunting seasons. Many a fine trout has found his ultimate destiny in our frying pan over the Cherry Pond camp fire.
Bige and I had built an open log camp there: one of the type called a "lean-to." It is so named because it leans to or against nothing. In other words, the camp has three sides, a sloping roof, an overhanging or projecting hood, and a fireplace built of stone in front. This type of camp can be made very comfortable except in cold winter weather, and in it one can be sure of plenty of fresh air. Some of the enclosed log cabins we have built are not so well ventilated and are liable to be close and stuffy.
We had a lot of fun in building this camp. It was substantially made, and with a few repairs to the roof has sheltered us for twelve years.
The first step in building a camp is to look for a spring of good pure water. In this case, after searching for several days and failing to find one, we selected a spot where the lay of the land indicated that a spring ought to be and dug for it. We found about three feet below the surface a vein of ice water that has never failed in the driest season.
Next, we selected a spot on top of a knoll about fifty feet above the surface of the pond and two hundred feet away from it, where we staked out our foundation. This elevation put us above the fog and damp air which settle down on the water at night.
Then we proceeded to make a set of drawings and specifications such as would be made in building a house. The logs and roof timbers were cut and fitted to specification before they were carried to position. The ground plan was twelve by eight feet. The ridge pole was nine feet high. The hood projected two feet, and was seven feet above ground. The walls were made of spruce logs, and were five feet high. The bottom log was ten inches in diameter; others graduated in size up to five inches at the top. Rafters were placed four inches apart; these and other roof timbers were made of spruce saplings two to three inches in diameter; and the roof and gable ends were covered with tar-paper, the roof projecting one foot beyond the walls all around to keep the outside of logs dry. Cracks between the logs were calked with dry moss.