Mt. Moosilauke (1902) - Bears on the Mountain
Last Big Animal Captured by Amos Merrill
"WARREN, July 12. - Fifty-three years ago, Amos Merrill was born [1849] in the shadow of Moosilauke, in the house where he now lives, known as the Merrill Mountain home, and for almost forty years he secured at least one bear annually. Mr. Merrill is a modest man, hence, he never relates any stories of hairbreath escapes; but he has pursued a course in hunting bears, which has secured the game with only a little of actual danger. With the sense of a true hunter, he would discover the firstindication that bruin was about. Then he would set his trap, and would soon have the bear. He has killed over fifty in all. One year he got four, the largest number in any one year.
He had a close call a few years ago, while he was looking at his fox trap on a bright, moon-lit night. He went out in the evening to see if he had caught a fox. In his path on the way home was a good-sized black bear. Not thinking of meeting any such a visitor, he had left his rifle at home; but, knowing so well the nature of the beast, he stood still and listened to the savage growls of the bear, and then carefully closed in on the animal with such courage that the brute turned and ran for the dense woods.
Last week he saw plenty of signs of bears, and some sheep were killed by the animals. He set a very large trap, over three feet long, with several feet of heavy quarter-inch iron chain attached.
Saturday morning he saw that he had caught his game, and for six miles he and some companions followed the trail. Once a long iron attached to the chain had caught the clod, but the bear broke the chain, which is strong enough to hold a horse to draw any load with. The bear was caught by the bottom of his foot, but the trap held him so that he could not tear it off.
A picture was taken showing the bear at the door of Mr. Merrill's home. The picture was taken by Mr. Merrill's daughter, Mrs. Roy Smith.
On account of the heavy forest fires this summer, the bears have been driven out of the timber into the pasture. This, in Mr. Merrill's opinion, accounts for the unusual number seen this season. . . ."
From The Union (1902).
