The Beaver

Around Kicker Creek, Late 1970s

“When my time comes, I may not be remembered for much, but I will have the distinction as that kid who snared a beaver by the tail.”

Those were the days, my friend. We thought they’d never end. With trapping season in full swing I thought I’d share a story that almost 50 years later still has me baffled how it happened. On a typical season I’d start out strong concentrating on beaver. #1, for their castor to make lure, #2, because beaver is the best bait for other species, as it emits a strong scent in sub zero temps, and #3, I learned early on that I didn’t like trapping beaver through the ice in Alaska on lakes where ice can get 3 to 4 feet thick. Instead, I’d concentrate on bank beaver before the rivers froze over.

It was one of those winters in the late 70s when there was little to no snow into December.

I was working my lines out of Kicker Creek and broke the stock on my 7mm on a wolverine. I wanted to get down to my homestead to get my 45/70 as I would need it the rest of the winter. With there being little snow I just turned the horses loose to fend for themselves while I hiked the 20 miles to my homestead, in those days I could travel much faster without them. Wanting to travel light I just threw in some snares and cable along with my sleeping bag planning on just sleeping under the stars as there was only a few hours daylight.

When I got about 3 miles down river to the head of the canyon I had to climb out and start working my way down high.

Where I waded the river I came out at a place where there was a big beaver slide coming down into the river that was being used heavily. I could see by the tracks in the mud that there were some pretty large ones using it. After taking a good look at the scene, I decided to go ahead and make a set. Searching the trapping playbook in my mind for the page on snaring beaver I couldn’t find one, so I made up my own. Kind of scratching my head and looking at the trails I tried visualizing how one might try and catch a football in a snare.

Standing at the top of the slide peering over the willows it was clear by the tracks that the beaver had a one way street thing going on, making a loop through the willows and exiting back at and down the slide.

I chose the entrance to the willows to make the set, assuming that the exit to the slide they’d most likely be dragging some willow that would push a snare to the side. Instead of suspending the loop of the snare from above I laid it flat on the ground and wired the swivel end to about a 5 to 7 pound rock that I had fished out of the river. I then pulled out the coil of snare cable that I had brought along, laid out the length I needed, cut it and crimped an eye on both ends. Then wrapped one end around an exposed tree root on the bank, threaded the other end through the eye then wired that end to the rock drag that I had wired the snare to. Lastly I propped up the noose, opened it a little bigger than head size and with sticks hung it a couple of inches off the ground. 

Quick and easy.

My thinking was that if a beaver happened to wander into it , it would head to the water for safety dragging the rock with it then the weight of the rock would do its job. Anyway, Hands on hips, looking down I shrugged my shoulders and said I should work, then grabbed my pack and proceeded to climb out of the canyon and down river.

I was back a couple of days later after doing what I needed to do at the homestead.

As I approached the set I noticed the snare wasn’t there and the cable was stretched tight leading into the water. I whispered to myself, “I’ll be damned it worked “. Pulling on the cable it was pretty obvious that there was something pretty substantial on the other end. When I got it to shore and pulled up the slide, was happy to see that it was about a 50# blanket beaver. When I got down on my knee to examine it I just stopped ,and talking to the beaver, said how the hell did you do this?!!. The snare was wound tightly around the base of its tail. When I rolled it around and unraveled it found that the loop had tightened and locked right at the base of the tail. I’m saying to myself now wait a minute, that’s impossible! 

I searched the ground for clues that might tell the tale, but not much had been disturbed. I’m pretty sure it didn’t have the ability to open the loop, step through it, then stop and tighten the noose on its tail…or back up the slide like a pickup hooking up to a trailer and pulling forward.

As silly as it may sound, I literally lost sleep over this quandary.

I’d lay awake in my bunk, Toklat curled up by my side, and run through the possible scenarios. Now a beaver is pretty handy with its tail. I must have heard the slap of its tail on water when it feels threatened. A sound that feels like if you were to be hit by that tail it could slap you into next week. Could it be possible that that beaver sensed danger, turned to slap it out of the way and in the process hit it just perfectly to slip in the noose? It seems the only plausible explanation to me. Just one of those mysteries that’ll never be solved in my mind.

When my time comes, I may not be remembered for much, but will have the distinction as that kid who snared a beaver by the tail.