This is from YCMALTF on my website.

"We would hunt the Deward area along the Manistee River. This is
that same stretch from Cameron Bridge Road up to Manistee Road along
the headwaters of the Manistee River that we used to fish. It is named
after the ghost town of Deward which sat right in the middle of it. The old
foundations are still there if you look for them. The town existed for
about 15 years and was established around the turn of the century solely
to log off the Ward Lumber timber holdings which had to be completed
within 10 years of Mr. Ward’s death as per his will. Hence de-Ward.

My Brittany, Audubon Autumn, was always in her glory here. God
she loved to hunt. One time after hunting, we were standing around in a
field by the car. All of a sudden the dogs started running frantically
around the small wood pile we were standing next to. After nosing
around a bit, they zeroed in on me. While I was wondering why I was the
object of so much attention, I noticed a tight feeling in the back of my
hunting pants just under the left cheek of my butt. I put my hand down
and felt the little bulge in them. Then the bulge moved slightly.
Somewhat freaked out, I dropped trow and a mouse ran out of my pants
right up my open shirt. Naturally the dogs were going nuts. I felt sort of
like a tree with a coon in it. I pulled off my vest and hunting shirt and
the mouse bolted for freedom. The mouse was toast the second he hit
dog level.
Al crooned, “Hickory, Dickory, Dock, A mouse ran up my ____.”