More adventures with Gnarly Dan: Going trapping

Gnarly Dan was tired from the last two days’ activities including getting the supplies unloaded, the water hauled, and the myriad of other chores readying the cabin for his and Scurvy Al’s planned one-month trapping expedition stay. In spite of the scurrying sounds he heard after turning off the lantern, he quickly dozed off and was soon in a deep, dream-filled sleep nestled completely within his sleeping bag.

Scurvy Al, in the meantime, was a light sleeper and, between his own flatulence from the previous evening’s supper of chili and the sound of mice moving around the cabin floor, was wide awake and began formulating a plan. Apparently, having the cabin heated for the past 24-hours had awakened the mice living underneath the cabin’s floor. The smell of food, and perhaps Scurvy Al, also contributed to the mice’s instincts to explore the cabin, but, being the cautious creatures that they are, only after all light was gone.

The sounds of plastic wrappers being clawed and chewed quickly had Scurvy Al on the defensive. He instinctively knew if the mice ate or fouled their precious food supplies, both he and Gnarly Dan faced a slow and painfully lingering death by starvation! The war was on! This was about survival of the fittest – life itself was on the line; one would live and one would die – or they would have to snowmachine back out the next day for some fresh supplies!

Scurvy grabbed his heavy, aluminum 4-D-cell flashlight and quietly tiptoed to the pantry. He pointed the light toward the food shelves, turned on the switch and took a swing. The mice were moving as the light came on and all Scurvy Al managed to hit was a bag of beans and a flour sack. The foodstuffs exploded from their bags with the impact and scattered throughout the pantry — talk about a mess!

Gnarly Dan stirred at the sound of exploding food bags but quickly rolled over and was soon snoring again. Not wanting to awaken him and face his possible wrath at the mess, Scurvy Al decided to put the flashlight away and work by what moonlight was entering through the one small cabin window and an occasional lit match, if needed. A side benefit from the matches was the covering of Scurvy’s unpleasant emanations.

Scurvy was on a quest for survival! He mumbled something about “those @%#&* mice” as he remembered the box of mouse traps near the front door. He quietly retrieved the traps and returned to the pantry. Using a spoon, he began baiting the traps with peanut butter. Once finished, he began setting the two-dozen traps all around the floor of the cabin, with a concentration in the pantry, amid the loose flour and scattered beans. Before the last trap was set, the first three traps snapped!

Gleefully chuckling to himself, Scurvy set the remaining traps and checked the ones which had snapped earlier. The first three mice of the evening were his! Al let out a muffled cheer that sounded something like “Hooaa, take that you little &*%@#,” and rebaited and reset the traps. He laid his first victims on their backs on the table and sat down to wait for more action.

He didn’t have to wait long. Scurvy Al greeted each loud SNAP with a quiet howl of delight as he pounced on the trap and its catch. The trap creaked as it was reset; however, an occasional snap followed by a pained cry was muttered as the trap tripped prematurely on Scurvy’s finger. If he had struck a match to better see his grisly work, a follow-up howl of pain could often be heard as the match burned Al’s fingers as it was going out! This scenario continued throughout the night as the supply of mice from underneath the cabin seemed endless!

With each new catch, Scurvy Al retreated to the table to line up the victims in a neat row, going from smallest to largest. As the take grew, the carcasses had to be rearranged to maintain the progression in size. In between snaps, Scurvy would add wood to the stove as needed, just to be sure the mice kept coming and to forestall Gnarly possibly awakening from cooling temperatures in the cabin.

As the first light of the false dawn began filtering in through the small window, Gnarly Dan sat up bleary-eyed and slid to the floor. A snap was heard as a mouse trap caught Gnarly on his big toe, followed by a surprised cry of pain. This immediately brought Gnarly to full alert and he saw Scurvy sitting in the center of the floor in his longjohns holding one final victim. Seeing Gnarly Dan awake, Scurvy maniacally announced, “I got 28! Never dreamed trappin’ was so much fun!”

After surveying the rows of carcasses on the table and seeing the still beaming, obviously proud Scurvy Al, Gnarly Dan had occasion to wonder about the sanity of his new-found trapping partner, with whom he was about to spend a month in an isolated cabin, but he wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

Scurvy Al loudly announced, “This is livin!’” and proceeded to crawl into his bunk for some badly needed sleep.

Howard Delo is a retired fisheries biologist with the Alaska Department of Fish and Game. You can leave him a message by e-mailing sports@frontiersman.com.