Center Feature:
In Search Of The Past
A nostalgic look back at the deer hunter of yesteryear
Text and Photos by R.G. Bernier
“The hunting story is one of the most basic elements
of culture, as basic as the love story, and perhaps even older. A good story of
the hunter’s quest captivates the listener, engages mind and emotions,
engraves lessons in the mind, and kindles the campfires of the soul, because the
hunter is a hero, symbolically and mythically, as well as in real life.”
—James A. Swan, author of The
Sacred Art of Hunting
The
deer hunter of yesteryear not only knew how to tell a great story, they had
great stories to tell. These dyed-in-the-wool huntsmen lived and breathed each
and every titillating moment of their deer hunting quests. As Frank Forester
writes, “The deer hunter is the epitome of manliness and independence whose
untrammeled sense of individual will and power opposed the decadent corruptions
of modern civilization…A man of energy, and iron will, and daring spirit,
tameless, enthusiastic, ardent, adventurous, chivalric, free—a man made of the
stuff, which fills the mold of heroes.”
These
were indeed men that intimately knew the game they pursued and possessed little
fear of the vast primeval forests they tramped. In fact, once on the hunt they
seldom gave up as the German born deer-slayer Miller writes in his hunting
journal, “I walked home. But where was my home? Wherever I happened to
be-where I had erected a bark shed, or spread my blanket, or lighted a fire, or
where the hospitable roof of a farmer or back-woodsman received me; though the
next morning might find me with all my goods on my back—no heavy
burden—seeking a new deer shooting ground, and a new home.”
They were also men
of metal that enjoyed the chase that ensued to capture their prize as scribed by
Judge John Dean Caton. “The pleasure of the sportsman in the chase is measured
by the intelligence of the game and its capacity to elude pursuit and in the
labor involved in the capture. It is a contest with sharp wits where
satisfaction is mingled with admiration for the object overcome.” And chase
they did. We find by their own
account that early trackers William Earl and his partner E. N. Woodcock were
“seldom in camp until after dark,” and once in pursuit of a fine stag,
“hustled from early morning until long after dark.”
Forgotten
Lore
Huntsmen of our
past paid little regard to their comfort. In fact according to Archibald
Rutledge, “If a man be a hunter born, he will tolerate an astonishing number
of inconveniences in order to gratify his sense of sport.” So much so as
George Laycock points out, “They could pillow on the earth and sleep
unsheltered under the canopy of heaven without thinking it a hardship.”
Lacking all of the modern trappings that are so prevalent today, these hunters
of resolve faced many hardships. When writing of his great grandfather’s
hunting exploits, R. Getty Browning scribes, “His hunting expeditions must
have been seriously affected by sudden climatic changes and the difficulties in
traveling on foot through the snow for long distances in zero weather must have
demanded the greatest resolution and endurance, even for one so strong and
active as he was.”
Meshach Browning
himself made the claim in his book, Forty-Four Years of the Life of a Hunter,
“If a man undertakes a dangerous enterprise with a determination to succeed or
lose his life, he will do many things with ease and unharmed which a smaller
degree of energy would never accomplish.”
Have we, as a
collective whole lost the primitive within us? Has the woods lore that was so
ingrained in the fabric of our ancestral hunters become just a tattered piece of
garment no longer fashionable or useful? Was George Mattis correct in his
assertion declared nearly four decades ago when he penned, “Because wild game
for food no longer plays a great role in our economy, much acquired outdoor lore
has been lost to the modern hunter. The hunt now takes on a totally new
significance in our urbanized society; it has become primarily a much needed
recreation for a large sector of our outdoor-minded population.” Mattis goes
on to assert, “There have been many changes from the days when deer hunting
meant packing off to the woods for a full season’s stay in the old hunter’s
shack. The call of the North Woods was once answered only by the hardy souls to
whom the ruggedness of camping in the rough was accepted as a necessary part of
the hunt. Though the chase of the whitetail continues, many of the sturdy
qualities of the erstwhile Nimrod are no longer with us, nor are they entirely
essential these days.”
Pampered
Sportsmen
One needs only to
look back to gain a genuine perspective of where we have progressed, or have we?
According to Mattis, “Convenience is the public cry in hunting…Today’s
sportsman is so pampered with such an array of gadgets and attire for ease and
comfort that deer hunting is no longer a privilege of the hardy outdoor
clan…The practical deer hunters, and especially the newcomers, come to hunt
the game animal where it is most plentiful, and many a bag is filled without the
hunter straying a quarter of a mile from his parked car, a farm field, or a side
road. The task of dragging in a deer killed even a mile back in from any road is
becoming the exception today. Because of this easy hunting, out hunting force is
inflated with many soft-handed members who make the outing not so much for their
sheer love of hunting but for the ease with which they can assume the stature of
a hunter.”
It seems that the
exploits of our ancestral deer hunters lies in stark contrast to the hunter of
today. We’ve become enmeshed in the intricacies of modern technology,
ascribing to the latest, most efficient methodology in hunting whitetails. Our
deer hunts are no longer campaigns, “making sporting history,” as Rutledge
described, but rather a formula with success being almost a sure bet. Rarely do
we find the same energy expanded as those that once tramped for endless miles as
penned by George Shiras, “A sportsman’s life consists largely of three
elements: anticipation, realization and reminiscence. We look forward to the
trip by rail, by canoe and then perhaps a tramp on foot into the heart of the
wilderness. Then comes the camp and its pleasant environments, and that lucky,
radiant day when the early morning sun casts a glint upon the branching antlers
of a mighty buck.”
According to
historian Dr. Rob Wegner, “We need to look back on our heroic, distant past so
that we can make claims to the future. Without tracing our personal roots and
grounding our self-identity in some kind of a collective with a shared past, we
will never acquire stability or a basis for a self-sustaining community. We need
to return to the basic values of the early American deerslayer—self-reliance,
hardihood, woodcraft and marksmanship—and forget all the mechanized gadgets
and technological devices.”
If we are indeed to
learn anything from those hunters of yesteryear and perhaps emulate some of
their storied past, than we must never forget these parting words from New
York’s most famed huntress, Paulina Brandreth,
“Hunting is a
recreation and invigorating pastime that never should, through a
super-civilized, over-artificialized state of living, be allowed to die out. In
this age of neurotic haste it means rest and renewed health to the man whose
brain and energies are being constantly overtaxed. It means stronger muscles, a
more vigorous constitution, self-reliance, hardihood. A real man does not care
for sport that does not involve difficulty, discomfort and sometimes danger. The
trouble with modern life is that physically it is terribly softening. We need
something to counteract the effects of luxury and too easy living. Hunting does
this because it takes a man to places where he has to depend on first
principles, and where he comes in contact with obstacles that tend to build up
and strengthen his natural abilities and manhood. It makes his eyesight keener,
teaches him patience, and unfolds many natural laws and beauties and wonders
that otherwise would remain to him unknown. We all need something of the
primitive in us in order that we may have a rock bottom on which to stand.”