His years as a houndsman chasing bobcats in the depth of winter were testimony to his stamina and dog savvy. Before the cat hunts ended, his Black & Tan hounds – Houdini and Bonnie – became legendary in Maine hunting circles. A 55-pound bobcat taken by him and his hounds held the Maine state record for years, and may still hold the title.

In trying to recall his favorite expression, this one comes to mind: “I’ll tell you one thing. I sure as hell feel more like I do now than I did a while ago!” He might have said that in the evening during a poker game at deer camp after a shot glass of Ole Stumpblower. Or he might have said it in the morning after his breakfast cure-all, a long swallow of his own concoction: a mixture of raw egg, horseradish and Worcestershire.

We were young men then, full of spunk and vinegar, and at deer camp in those days some of us stayed up late and partied hard. He was known to be the last to bed and the first to uncap a bottle, but with an unconventional approach. For him, a happy-hour cocktail was a shot glass of whiskey followed by a short trip to the sink pitcher pump for a chaser of branch water.

Those of us who have spent a week at deer camp with this man during the past 37 Novembers have given him a nickname that he has been unable to shake. We call him “The Supreme.” When he was born in Patten, his mother named him Dana. Dana M. Young. But his deer camp name is more important here, for it is the springboard for the story.

The Supreme is the elected leader of a longstanding Maine deer hunting organization known as the Skulkers of Seboeis. Like other informal organizations, the Skulkers evolved over the years. At first, the Supremeship of this hunt club was deemed a joke, a title bestowed on a different member every year just to keep it interesting. Along the way, as we hunted together and enjoyed each other’s fellowship, some unexpected social dynamics took place.

The Supreme, who was called “Delightful Dana” in the early days, began to show the qualities of leadership that can bring laughter, cohesion and contentment to a hunt camp. Dana could cook. I mean really cook. A trained chef who first fed me as the cook at my college fraternity house, his fellow Skulkers began to depend upon – indeed relish – his culinary skills. The yearly Saturday night game dinner at camp, which was his baby, became a Skulker mainstay, locked irrevocably into our lore and annual camp rituals.

He could hunt, too. A lifelong outdoorsman who killed his first deer in Patten at age nine with a J.C. Higgins .22, he was a skilled hunter and as woodswise as they come.

His sense of humor didn’t hurt his standing in camp either. In fact, his wit and bawdy perspective on life and camp doings spawned a yearly camp award simply called “The Dana M. Young Trophy.” Over the years, each of us has earned the dubious distinction of being the recipient of this trophy. He responded to his first nomination as the Supreme Skulker of Seboeis in an unexpected way. While previous Skulkers had spurned the nomination as a bad joke, he embraced it. Indeed, he ran for the office with vigor and imagination. Although he had no serious competition for the “high office,” a political demonstration was secretly arranged by the nominee. At his signal, a platoon of hunters from two neighboring deer camps paraded through our cabin carrying endorsement placards and chanting “Dana for Supreme.”

He was elected overwhelmingly to his first one-year term.

That took place sometime around the mid 1970s. Since that time, with one or two upsets in his early years of holding the title, he has maintained an unrivaled leadership hold on the Skulkers of Seboeis. Attempts to unseat him have been half-hearted and ineffective at best.

When he is not serving in that role for one week in November, Dana Young lives in Westminster, Md., with his wife Colleen and daughter Erin. Although born in Patten, he lived for a short time in California and attended Hampden Academy, where he played football and won a Junior Speaking Contest with a made up ghost story.

He currently manages a Carroll County recreational area. When he’s not working in his herb and vegetable garden, or putting up preserves, he can be found fishing the Eastern Shore or hunting deer near his home with crossbow, muzzleloader, or rifle. He is a veteran meat cutter whose hunt buddies rely on for venison care and processing.

Although his sister Roberta makes better biscuits in my opinion, nothing can touch his Supreme’s Crock Pot Quail for taste and simplicity. Here it is:

1 can Cream of Mushroom Soup

1 can Cream of Celery Soup

Saut mushrooms, green peppers and onions

Brown quail in butter

Add some cooking Sherry and cook slow 8 hours in a crock pot.

This November, a few days after the nation elects a President to lead the country, the Skulkers of Seboeis will gather at deer camp to sing their song and elect a new Supreme for the ensuing year. Put your money on the incumbent.

V. Paul Reynolds is editor of the Northwoods Sporting Journal. He is also a Maine Guide, co-host of a weekly radio program “Maine Outdoors” heard Sundays at 7 p.m. on The Voice of Maine News-Talk Network (WVOM-FM 103.9, WCME-FM 96.7) and former information officer for the Maine Dept. of Fish and Wildlife. His e-mail address is [email protected].