Bill Potter and his daughter Iva at his Rochester or High Falls Camp.

COURTESY EDWARD BLANKMAN (THE LLOYD BLANKMAN COLLECTION)

Lloyd Blankman

Will Lewis at the age of 19 was 6 ft. 1 in. tall and weighed 140 pounds. He was always thin and from a young man had a mustache. His left shoulder was noticeably lower than his right, caused by his daily carrying of a gun. His calm manner and his knack of getting “pretty tickled” made all who were lucky enough to know him, like him.

His voice was low and quiet with one exception. That was on the rifle range when his deep, booming “Pull” carried over the countryside. In the many decisions of life he thought things over pretty carefully and acted to the best of his ability. He did not spend time on regrets and worries. Each day he did the best he could and when he went to bed he went to sleep.

Will Lewis loved the woods. He felt the same call of the forest that French Louie and Nessmuk did. Time and geography made being another French Louie impossible. Maybe he even said to himself, “I’m born 50 years too late.” His literary ability prevented him from being immortal like Nessmuk. But somewhere in between he found his place in the sun.

He was born in Central New York near Norwich and died in that town 86 years later. The following note was written by him at the age of 85: “I was born in 1870. At the age of five years my parents moved in the lumber woods on the banks of the Genesee River. I began shooting small game with a bow and arrow at the age of six years, was using firearms at age of eight years. Small game was very plentiful so I had lots of practice. At 12 years of age I was using breech loading rifles and shotgun. In 1891 I became acquainted with Henry J. Borden who had a cheese and butter factory and rifle range near North Pharsalia, where I began learning the fine points of rifle and pistol shooting.” The great deal of trapping he did along the Genesee River is not mentioned.

The years 1898 and 1900 Will traveled north with horse and wagon, spending a month or so at a time and living in the wagon, make-shift shelters and old buildings. After that every year and sometimes several times a year he journeyed to his happy hunting grounds. The experiences and deer he got he kept track of with notes he made on the spot.