One of them, Seawell, once
came near being mauled by a trapped bear, seemingly at the last gasp
which he approached incautiously with his hatchet.
There is, however, one very real danger to which the solitary
bear-trapper is exposed, the danger of being caught in his own trap. The
huge jaws of the gin are easy to spring and most hard to open. If any
unwary passer-by should tread between them and be caught by the leg, his
fate would be doubtful, though he would probably die under the steadily
growing torment of the merciless iron jaws, as they pressed ever deeper
into the sore flesh and broken bones. But if caught by the arms, while
setting or fixing the trap, his fate would be in no doubt at all, for it
would be impossible for the stoutest man to free himself by any means.
Terrible stories are told of solitary mountain hunters who disappeared,
and were found years later in the lonely wilderness, as mouldering
skeletons, the shattered bones of the forearms still held in the rusty
jaws of the gin.
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