in this art than are civilized folk, for tracking is their serious lifelong pursuit, and they have not injured their eyes with books. Intelligence is, indeed, important here as elsewhere; yet it is a remarkable fact that the lowest race of mankind, the Australian blacks, are reputed to be by far the best trackers. Not only are their eyes and attention developed and disciplined, but they have retained much of the scent power that civilized man has lost. They can follow a fresh track, partly at least, by smell.
Woodland and marsh life
2 Tracking, Trailing, or Spooring
The first lesson of a young hunter, after knowing the animals themselves, is recognizing their tracks. He must not only recognize them, however; he must learn to follow them and read the information that they offer.
As I have already said, tracks are the oldest writing in the world. We have track records that are millions of years old; the track is there long after the creature that made it is dead and gone, even wholly extinct.
But the most useful track records for us today are those that we find in the dust, or better still the snow.
Since the trail is the unquestionable story of the wild being at that time, one should lose no chance to study and record the tracks of animals if he wishes to be a real naturalist.
Whether one specializes in birds, beasts, stars, diseases, microbes, metals, or tracks, the first step in knowledge is exact identification.
The expert hunter after quadrupeds that frequent the woods gets information and guidance from passing glimpses of the animal, the information supplied by the dung pellets, the marks that it makes in feeding on or scratching the bark and brush of trees, the sounds that it makes by voice or by attacks on tree trunks, the cries of birds that are aroused by its presence and call in protest or in signal to other birds.
But by far the most important sources of information are the tracks that the creature makes as it travels or maneuvers in the soft earth, the mud, or the snow of its haunts. The tracks tell exactly when and where the creature passed, its species, its size and mood, whether old or young, sometimes even its sex, whether alarmed and flying for safety, or dozing in calm repose. It tells all about the animal, and more fully than in any other way, except by a clear view close at hand —such a view indeed as is rarely secured for more than a few seconds, while the track record covers the life of the creature for hours, sometimes for days.
It is hard to overvalue the power of the skillful tracker. To him the trail of each animal is not a mere series of similar footprints; it is an accurate account of the creature’s ways, habits, changing whims, and emotions during the portion of life of which the record is in view. These are indeed autobiographical chapters and differ from some other autobiographies in this—they cannot tell a lie. We may get wrong information from them, but it is our own fault if we do; we misread the unimpeachable document.
Furthermore, under the proper conditions, the track record is imperishable. We need not be on the spot when the writings were made. We have in the rocks today track stories that were told, then in the mud, a million years before man appeared on this planet.
The ideal time for tracking, and almost the only time for most folk, is when the ground is white. After the first snow the student walks forth and begins at once to realize the wonders of the trail. A score of creatures whose existence, maybe, he did not know of are now revealed all about him, and the reading of their life histories becomes easy.
Whitetail Deer tracks
It is when the snow is on the ground, indeed, that we take the census of the woods. How often we learn with surprise from the telltale white that a Fox was around our hen house last night, that a Mink is living even now under the woodpile, or that a Deer—yes! there is no mistaking its sharp-pointed unsheeplike footprint—has wandered into our woods from the farther wilds!
Never lose the chance of the first snow if you wish to become a trailer. Nevertheless, remember that the first morning after a night snowfall is not so good as the second, for most wild creatures “hole up” during the storm; the snow hides the tracks of those that do go forth; and some actually go into a “cold sleep” for a day or two after a heavy downfall accompanied by severe frost. But a calm, mild night following a storm is sure to offer abundant and ideal opportunity for beginning the study of the trail.
It is a most fascinating amusement to learn some creature’s way of life by following its fresh track for hours in good snow. I never miss such a chance. If I cannot find a fresh track, I take a stale one, knowing that, theoretically, it is fresher at every step, and, from practical experience, that it always eventually brings one to some track that is fresh.
Although so much is to be read in the wintry white, we cannot at that time make a full account of all the woodland fourfoots, for there are some kinds that do not come out in the snow; they sleep more or less all winter.
Deer in action
Thus, one rarely sees the track of Chipmunk or Woodchuck in truly winter weather; and never, so far as I know, have the trails of Jumping Mouse or Mud Turtle been seen in the snow. These we can track only in the mud or dust.
Such tracks cannot be followed as far as those in snow, simply because the mud or dust does not cover the whole country; but they are often as clear and in some respects more easy of record.
Here are some of the important facts to keep in view when you set forth to master the rudiments of trailing, or “spooring,” as our English friends call it.
FIRST: No two animals leave the same trail; not only each kind but each individual at each stage of its life leaves a trail as distinctive as the creature’s appearance. It is obvious that they differ among themselves just as do we, because the young know their mothers, the mothers know their young, and the old ones know their mates, even when scent is clearly out of the question.
SECOND: The trail in its entirety was begun at the birthplace of that creature, and ends only at its death. It may be recorded in visible track or perceptible odor. It may last but a few hours and may be too faint even for an expert with present equipment to follow. But evidently the trail is made, wherever the creature journeys afoot.
THIRD: It varies with every important change of impulse, action, and emotion.
FOURTH: When we find a trail we may rest assured that, if living, the creature that made it is at the other end; and if one can follow, it is only a question of time before coming up with that animal. But be sure of its direction before setting out; many a novice has lost time by going backward on the trail.
Tracks on the farm
A practical trailer can, of course, tell something of the trail’s age by careful study. This finesse, however, is usually beyond the power of the beginner.
FIFTH:
