LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Writ* ~ 
 
 J 77 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
THE 
 
 WILDERNESS 
 
 CURE. 
 
 / 
 
 
 MAEC 
 
 COOK, 
 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' 
 
 "CAMP LOU." 
 
 1° 
 
 
 
 %*■ 
 
 
 
 NEW YOEK: 
 WILLIAM WOOD & COMPANY, 
 
 1881. 
 
 7r 
 
Copyright by 
 
 WILLIAM WOOD & COMPANY, 
 
 1881. 
 
 Trow's 
 
 Printing and Bookbinding Company, 
 
 20X-213 East x-zth Street, 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
©0 
 
 DR. WILLIAM H. WATSON 
 
 ( Surgeon- General, and Regent of the University of the State of New York), 
 
 WITHOUT WHOM 
 
 THE WRITER WOULD NOT NOW BE, 
 
 NOR THIS LITTLE VOLUME EVER HAVE BEEN, 
 
 Hfotst Pag** a« (KrattfuIIs Inmifab* 
 
NOTE. 
 
 The publication of the article " Camp Lou," in 
 Harper's Magazine for May, 1881, has called forth 
 such a flood of inquiries that the author finds it quite 
 beyond his powers to make individual reply to each. 
 Precisely those minor details which could not well 
 be embodied in a magazine paper have been most 
 sought after by correspondents. This little volume, 
 it is believed, contains the information desired. And 
 it is given to the public in the hope that it will be 
 accepted as a general response to the numerous let- 
 ters which the writer has received on the subject of 
 the Wilderness Cure. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Young Man's Case, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Wilderness and the Experiment, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Some Delusions Dispelled, . 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Preparations for an Invalid's Camp, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Making a Camp Attractive, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Camp Life as an Invalid Finds It, . 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Wintering in the Wilderness, . 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Year-Round Inhabitants, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Dr. Loomis on the St. Regis Country, 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 The Cost of the Thing, . . , 
 Appendix, 
 
 18 
 
 28 
 
 37 
 
 48 
 
 58 
 
 71 
 
 96 
 
 136 
 149 
 
THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 THE YOUNG MANS CASE. 
 
 Late in the autumn of 1877, a young man at work 
 in a newspaper office in New York City found him- 
 self the possessor of an inconsequential cough. It 
 came to him unsolicited, and, so far as he could dis- 
 cover, without sufficient — certainly without specific 
 cause. Up to that time he had enjoyed fairly good 
 health. He had stood the strain of a reporter's life 
 and boarding-house fare, and while pretty steadily 
 disregarding the precepts of the doctors, he was 
 never obliged to call upon them for prescriptions. 
 It was not until he had found more congenial employ- 
 ment in the office of a weekly journal — not until he 
 had sown his few wild oats, married, and settled down 
 to the cultivation of tame oats, that the medical men 
 got their grip upon him. 
 
 The inconsequential cough was scarcely noticed at 
 first. It caused its owner neither inconvenience nor 
 1* 
 
10 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 anxiety. In the consciousness of never having in- 
 herited anything, there was the comforting convic- 
 tion that he could not have inherited consumptive 
 tendencies. From no branch or root or twig of his 
 genealogic tree was it possible to draw the wasting 
 sap of phthisis. Still the cough, coming thus with 
 no claim to kinship, stuck closer than a brother. At 
 the end of a month or so, a physician prescribed 
 some simple remedies. They were taken with no 
 apparent effect. Another month went by. The ' 
 cough had grown a trifle tiresome, but was still re- 
 garded as a small matter by its involuntary owner. 
 It continued to be the only perceptible symptom of 
 anything wrong. The young man lost neither flesh 
 nor strength — at least, not to an appreciable degree. 
 He went to the office, performed his usual duties 
 without special effort, and was able to eat and sleep 
 regularly. But he kept on coughing. 
 
 By the time the third month had been rounded 
 the cougher had consulted other physicians, had taken 
 three or four bottles of cod-liver oil, a gallon or two 
 of rye whiskey with rock candy, and an amazing 
 amount of good advice. The doctors found nothing 
 very serious, they said, in the case. Perhaps a pre- 
 disposition to pulmonary weakness — that was all. 
 Exposure to the weather should be avoided, and pos- 
 sibly the climate of Florida or Nassau might prove 
 of benefit. But there was no immediate necessity 
 for leaving the city, and nourishing food, rest, and 
 regularity of life would be pretty sure to overcome 
 the trouble. So, still coughing, yet still free from 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S CASE. 11 
 
 anxiety regarding himself, the young man continued 
 at his desk. 
 
 In March, 1878, some unpleasant accompaniments 
 to the cough began to show themselves. "Work be- 
 came more exhausting, and a walk of a mile produced 
 a strong desire for rest. The young man gave up 
 the habit of mounting stairs two steps at a time. 
 Tenderloin steak lost its old-time flavor, and indeed 
 all eating became somewhat of a task. The pulse 
 often rose to the nineties, and at times a slight fever 
 manifested itself. Night-sweats were also developed, 
 although in a mild form. All this time cod-liver 
 oil, whiskey, and a diet of special nutritive qualities 
 were continued perseveringly. And so was the 
 cough. 
 
 On the first of April came the sharp warning which 
 less alarming symptoms had failed to convey. On 
 the evening of that day, after an especially laborious 
 siege of it in the office, the cougher was attacked 
 with hemorrhage of the lungs just as he stepped 
 from the Fulton ferry-house. He raised, perhaps, 
 half a teacup of blood. He had an idea, at the 
 time, that it was a quart. This hemorrhage brought 
 relief so far as the cough was concerned, but it 
 brought also a tardy realization of the clanger that 
 threatened. The flow of blood was stopped by the 
 use of common table-salt, and although the first at- 
 tack was followed by a number of others, more or 
 less severe, no other remedy was used. A day or 
 two later, the young man locked his office desk and 
 set forth in search of that unpurchasable luxury- — 
 
12 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 health. He went first to his father's home in the 
 central part of New York State. There he re- 
 mained about two months, and then, in conformity 
 with the advice of his physician, Dr. William H. 
 Watson, the present Surgeon-General of New York 
 State, he journeyed to the White Mountains, New 
 Hampshire. The period between his departure from 
 New York and this mountain trip was marked by 
 some noteworthy peculiarities of his case. At first, 
 after his arrival at his father's house, he lost ground 
 at a discouraging rate. It was fully two weeks be- 
 fore the hemorrhages were completely stopped. 
 Meantime, his strength failed rapidly, the cough be- 
 came extremely vicious, and the nights were made mis- 
 erable through copious sweats, burning fever, and ina- 
 bility to sleep. In good time, however, matters began 
 to mend. Under the treatment of his physician the 
 patient regained his appetite, found the cough grow- 
 ing by degrees less troublesome, was able to sleep 
 restf ully at night, and was entirely relieved from that 
 sense of nervous prostration which is not uncommon 
 in cases of hemorrhage. 
 
 So rapid was his gain, that in June the young man 
 had reason to believe that he should speedily be rid 
 of the cough which now again was the only reminder 
 of disease. On his way to the mountains he spent 
 a few days in Boston, and there submitted himself 
 to a thorough examination at the hands of Dr. Gr. 
 Hermann Merkel. The result of this examination 
 showed that the lower part of the left lung was 
 slightly consolidated, while the upper part of the 
 
THE YOUNG MAn's CASE. 13 
 
 right lung gave some faint indication of catarrhal 
 difficulty. Neither lung was in anything like a 
 seriously diseased condition. Indeed, a less practised 
 ear than the doctor's might have failed to detect any- 
 thing wrong in the delicate tissues. Journeying on 
 to North Conway, the health-seeker spent the re- 
 mainder of the summer, where, from his window, 
 he could see the giant front of Mount Washington. 
 In the dry, bracing atmosphere of that region, where 
 the sandy soil sucks up the moisture, and no foul 
 odors pollute the air, he gained steadily. It was not 
 easy, either for himself or others, to regard him as 
 an invalid in those days. He led no life of piazza 
 indolence. He turned off his allotted portion of 
 work every day, and wrote with unusual ease and 
 freedom. A three-mile jaunt did not tire him. He- 
 freshing nights of sleep, and a regular appetite 
 brought increased strength and added materially to 
 his weight. And yet, through this cheering period, 
 never, for a day, did the cough loosen its hold. At 
 times, to be sure, it grew mild, and gave its victim 
 long hours of respite ; but all the same it was there. 
 There to irritate, to watch its chance, and in the end 
 to break forth again with renewed viciousness. In 
 September the young man believed himself so far re- 
 stored to health as to justify his return to New York. 
 He turned the scales then at 158 pounds, a gain of 
 twenty pounds over his weight in April. He felt in 
 all respects as well, physically and mentally, as ever. 
 His capacity for work and beefsteak was at its max- 
 imum. The physicians interposed no obj ections to his 
 
14 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 return to office work. So he made his way back to 
 New York in the cheering belief that he had done 
 with cod-liver oil, quinine, and doctors' prescriptions. 
 But he took with him the cough. 
 
 In the next three months he attended regularly to 
 his duties, and did his best to shut out the too palpa- 
 ble truth that he was losing ground daily. At last, 
 however, the sharp warning was a second time 
 sounded. On the first of January, 1879, he was 
 taken down with severe hemorrhages. For the two 
 weeks following he was forced to keep his bed. All 
 the bad symptoms came back — nervous prostration, 
 weakness, loss of appetite, fever, debilitating sweats. 
 It was with the dawn of the new year that Dr. Ed- 
 ward W. Vietor, of Brooklyn, took charge of the 
 case. He gave the patient large hope of recovery, 
 and devoted himself faithfully to the work of bat- 
 tling the insidious enemy. It will ever remain the 
 conviction of the patient that without Dr. Yietor's 
 skilful treatment and the untiring care of a devoted 
 wife, his life would have ended at that time. As it 
 was, hope's thermometer rose and fell alternately for 
 many days. February found the young man seem- 
 ingly on the straight road to recovery. And, indeed, 
 for a period of two months or more, he was well 
 enough to work daily, although not going to the office 
 — well enough to enjoy his meals, to find comfort in 
 books' companionship, and, in fair weather, in leisure- 
 ly strolls about town. But through some slight over- 
 exertion, added, perhaps, to indiscreet exposure, this 
 cheering condition of things was brought to a sudden 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S CASE. 15 
 
 end. Toward the latter part of March a congestive 
 chill was followed by something unpleasantly like 
 pneumonia. Then for a month the patient ran down 
 at an alarming rate. His physician saw the old foe 
 gaining inch by inch, and foot by foot, until he felt 
 the necessity for an immediate change of ground. The 
 first thing was to get away from New York ; the 
 second was to get into the Adirondack wilderness. 
 So weak, that he could with difficulty make the jour- 
 ney, the patient set out once more in the search for 
 health — this time with very small hopes of finding 
 what he sought. He spent a month at his father's 
 home, hoping thereby to pick up a little strength for 
 what, in his condition, seemed a laborious undertak- 
 ing. Instead, however, of gaining, he grew steadily 
 weaker. Dr. "VVatson, who renewed his interest in 
 the case, joined heartily in the project of visiting the 
 Adirondacks. He very plainly told the friends of 
 the young man that this was the one chance left — 
 that if it failed. the long fight would be over. En- 
 thusiastic as the doctor was over the Adirondack trip, 
 he could not conscientiously hold out much hope in 
 the present case. He made the fact emphatic, how- 
 ever, that the patient would die, and die speedily, if 
 he remained where he was. Should he live to reach 
 the St. Regis country, there was a chance — shadowy, 
 no doubt, but still a chance — of recovery. Had the 
 question been left for the young man himself to de- 
 cide, the experiment would probably have remained 
 untried. For it is to be confessed, that at this time 
 (the early part of June, 1879), he had loosened his 
 
16 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 hold on hope and prepared himself, with what of 
 philosophic calmness he could muster, for the coming 
 of the end. Through many weary months he had 
 held steadfast to the belief that he should find ulti- 
 mate relief from his ailment ; but now that belief 
 gave place to one equally deep-seated, that death 
 would claim its own. Cheering words from those 
 nearest and dearest to him, even the blessed false- 
 hoods which it is the physician's duty as well as privi- 
 lege sometimes to utter, neither comforted nor de- 
 ceived him. He needed no physician to tell him that 
 he was sinking rapidly. And surely, with days made 
 weary by the racking cough, with no appetite for 
 food, with alternate fits of burning fever and chilling 
 cold, with utter prostration of the nerve-force, with 
 nights devoid of rest, the body drenched in perspira- 
 tion, and the cough still racking the tired lungs^ - 
 with all these things, it is not to be wondered at that 
 hope went out, and the fight seemed altogether an 
 uneven and vain contest. 
 
 Still the wiser opinion of others prevailed, and on 
 the sixth of June the patient started for the wilder- 
 ness. Plattsburg was reached that evening, and the 
 night spent at a hotel. At an early hour the next 
 morning the journey was resumed — twenty miles of 
 it over a backwoods railway, and forty by stage over 
 a backwoods highway. Only by means of alcoholic 
 stimulants, freely taken, could the patient have made 
 this trip. As it was, when he stepped from the stage 
 at " Paul" Smith's, his wasted body and bloodless face 
 afforded reason enough for the sturdy guides to shake 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S CASE. 17 
 
 their heads ominously over this doubtful specimen of 
 a " sportsman." 
 
 That was the seventh of June. This is the middle 
 of December. And the young man ? Well, he lays 
 down his pen to-day to go out for a seven-miles ride 
 over the glistening snow. The thermometer is close 
 to zero. The air is crisp and cold. It might freeze 
 your dainty city ears, but it is nothing to the hardy 
 backwoodsman. Nothing to the young man. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE WILDERNESS AND THE EXPERIMENT. 
 
 Distasteful as it is to parade one's bodily infirmi- 
 ties before the world, such a course seems to be the 
 only one to follow in a narrative like this. Indeed, 
 my little volume would surely fail of its purpose if 
 it did not have a personal story to tell. If this story 
 should seem largely egotistical that is to be counted 
 the misfortune, not the vanity of the teller. 
 
 The description of my own case given in the pre- 
 ceding chapter, however untechnical, is at least un- 
 exaggerated. As it stands, it applies specifically to 
 one victim; but with little alteration, no doubt, it 
 would cover thousands of other cases. It has not 
 been my object to make my condition worse than it 
 was, nor shall it be my aim to color too rosily the 
 curative virtues of the wilderness. The young man 
 who, in June, found it no easy task to walk the length 
 of the hotel piazza, in December could turn off a 
 mile over snow-covered roads without exhausting his 
 strength. But he is still far from robust health. The 
 experiment has proved successful beyond the most 
 hopeful anticipation, but it is to be remembered 
 that it is an experiment still under trial. The man 
 
THE WILDERNESS AND THE EXPERIMENT. 19 
 
 who has been afflicted with disease of twenty years' 
 standing, and given np by the doctors, and who, af- 
 ter using six bottles of Dr. Lumbo's Liniment is, 
 forthwith, able to lift a seven-octave piano, is not the 
 writer of this book. Probably all of us who are 
 doomed to long familiarity with pills and powders, 
 have, in one shape or another, been informed of the 
 merits of innumerable Dr. Lumbos, each with his 
 infallible liniment. I regret to say, however, that 
 personally I have never found that distinguished 
 gentleman in the flesh, nor a drop of his liniment in 
 the bottle. I did not find them when I came up here 
 into the woods. Yet I heard of them — of a dozen 
 of them — before I had got fairly settled in my room. 
 
 "D'yer want to know what '11 cure that there 
 cough of yonr'n ? " inquired a solicitous backwoods- 
 man, before I had been three hours in the wilderness. 
 
 "Yes, it would afford me infinite satisfaction to 
 learn what would cure that cough." 
 
 "Cherry-bark and balsam," was the impressive 
 answer. " Nothin' like it in the world ! Why, land 
 o' the livin' there was a young feller come up here 
 three years ago — " 
 
 But I spare you the proof of cherry-bark and bal- 
 sam's magic properties, as illustrated in the case of 
 that "young feller." His case is painfully familiar. 
 Sometimes it is cherry-bark and balsam, sometimes 
 it is buttermilk, sometimes it is dandelion tea — but 
 whatever the remedy, the result is invariably the 
 same. If any of my consumptive readers are emu- 
 lous of the fame of Dr. Lumbo's patients, they will 
 
20 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 not come to the Adirondacks. I am persuaded, how- 
 ever, that there are in this country to-day ten thou- 
 sand persons who, fighting the weary fight for health, 
 would find cause enough for thanksgiving if they 
 could penetrate this vast wilderness and breathe in 
 the life-giving air day and night the year round. If 
 it brought them that measure of strength which it has 
 brought the writer, surely they, like him, would deem 
 it a duty to write a recommendation of the medicine 
 as sincere, if not as remarkable, as any ever given to 
 Doctor Lumbo's Liniment. 
 
 The two weeks and more which we spent at " Paul " 
 Smith's before getting into camp were wretched in 
 the extreme. Nothing could have been worse than 
 the weather. It rained almost incessantly the greater 
 part of the time, and when not raining, it might 
 with perfect consistency have snowed. The ther- 
 mometer, on two or three occasions, sank below forty, 
 and throughout it showed no- more disposition to 
 rise than the guides did when once seated about the 
 office fire. Even the few enthusiastic anglers who 
 had come in for the June fishing needed the warm 
 glow of ardent zeal to keep them at their honored 
 pursuit. As for a weak and shivering invalid, he 
 could only move listlessly about his room, or hug the 
 fire tenaciously in the parlor. If anything, I found 
 myself worse during this fortnight than I had been 
 at any time before. The nights especially became 
 periods of almost continuous suffering: So hard and 
 constant was the cough, that sleep, except the restless 
 and troubled dozing produced by opiates, was out of 
 
THE WILDERNESS AND THE EXPERIMENT. 21 
 
 the question. The expectoration was copious, gen- 
 erally of a greenish tint, and so solid that it sank 
 like a stone in water. Then the drenching sweats, 
 alternated with burning fever and occasional chills, 
 made up a list of more ills than any flesh should at 
 one and the same time fall heir to. We found kind 
 friends at the hotel, and the sympathetic interest 
 manifested in my case by " Paul " Smith and his es- 
 timable wife surprised me more then than it does 
 now, when I have come to know them better. Dr. 
 Trudeau, whose own case is referred to elsewhere in 
 this book, freely gave his professional services in my 
 behalf, and I was fortunate, also, in coming under 
 the care of the late Dr. Bronson, of New Haven. All 
 that medical skill and constant care and tender nurs- 
 ing could do was done for me at that critical time. 
 If it did not surprise others, it did me, that I pulled 
 through. 
 
 It had been a part of the wilderness plan, and a 
 very important part in our preliminary arrangements, 
 to go into camp at the earliest moment practicable. 
 For myself, I had a very confused idea of what 
 " camping out " meant. The plan was vaguely sug- 
 gestive of salt pork, rubber blankets, a bed of hemlock 
 boughs, and much physical discomfort, which is per- 
 versely declared to be fun. However, the camp was 
 indispensable to a fair trial of the Adirondack ex- 
 periment, and so our preparations were made with as 
 much haste as possible. 
 
 In the matter of selecting a camping ground we 
 were peculiarly fortunate. The spot was a bluff on 
 
22 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 Osgood Pond, rising thirty feet above the level o£ 
 the water, and stretching like a peninsula into the 
 pond. Pines, spruces, and the aspen poplar, known in 
 the vernacular of the region as the "popple," abound- 
 ed. The pond itself stretched about this neck of land 
 so as to form a little bay, toward which the land ex- 
 tended in a gentle declivity. We thus had a breeze 
 blowing across the water in front to the water in the 
 back — a very important consideration in keeping clear 
 of insect pests. The spot had never before been used 
 for camping purposes, and that also was to be counted 
 in its favor. For custom gives the first settler a sort 
 of right of claim on Adirondack ground. 
 
 Our preliminary preparations were not elaborate, 
 and were left necessarily for the most part to the 
 guides employed to build the camp. We moved into 
 our primitive quarters on the 21st of June. We 
 found awaiting us two bark buildings and a canvas 
 tent, built in a line along the bluff, and facing the 
 picturesque little lake which nestles among the pine- 
 covered hills. Osgood is the first of the ponds lying 
 north of the Lower St. Pegis, and is reached by a 
 three-fourths of a mile carry. To get to our camp, 
 another three-fourths of a mile had to be travelled 
 by boat ; or the entire distance could be covered by 
 land, reckoned at about a mile and a half to the 
 hotel. It cannot be said that Camp Lou, as we after- 
 ward called it, presented a very attractive appear- 
 ance on that first Saturday afternoon. To be sure 
 the scene about us was beautiful in the extreme ; but 
 scenery was something which could not inspire us 
 
THE WILDEKNESS AND THE EXPERIMENT. 23 
 
 much just then. As I have explained, our fortnight's 
 sojourn at the hotel had not in any way benefited 
 me. When I reached the camp, the walk up the 
 gradual slope from the boat-landing to the tent was 
 enough to exhaust my strength. Despite the phy- 
 sicians' assurances, I looked with suspicion on the 
 canvas tent, and very seriously doubted whether it 
 would afford protection against the rain and wind. 
 Timely advice had prevented us from putting our 
 faith in hemlock boughs, and we had a comfortable 
 bed, with mattress, pillows, and the other appurten- 
 ances of civilized sleeping. But we slept very little 
 that first night. The weather was warm and mugny, 
 with an unmistakable hint of rain in the lowering 
 sky. After an unrelished supper, we sat down dis- 
 consolately in the bark cabin and reflected that if 
 this was the invigorating manner of life destined to 
 restore health and strength, it was at least a question- 
 able kind of invigoration. The one tallow candle 
 burned dimly, and was finally extinguished altogether 
 to keep away the midges— which, if you want to be 
 understood here, you must call midgets. Our guides 
 made a sorry attempt at enlivening the occasion by 
 some reminiscenses of their backwoods life. Then, 
 finally, clinging stubbornly to my own belief about 
 the insecurity of the tent, and finding that a drizzling 
 rain had already set in, I insisted upon having the 
 bed made up in the cabin. This suited the midges 
 exactly, and in the brief intervals of the night when 
 the cough did not keep me awake, the persistent lit- 
 tle insects did. 
 
24 THE WILDERNESS CITEE. 
 
 We arose on the following morning to find the 
 sky a mass of leaden clouds, and a penetrating rain 
 still falling. With the conveniences at our disposal 
 we made a rough and ready toilet and ate with doubt- 
 ful appetite the breakfast which the guides had pro- 
 vided. Then wrapping ourselves in rubber coats, we 
 sat down in the tent, more discouraged and more 
 wretched even than on the night before. It was a 
 long, dull, miserable day, brightened only for an 
 hour by a visit from two of our hotel friends, whose 
 goodness of heart prompted them to brave the abom- 
 inable weather and seek us out to make sure that we 
 still lived. That night we took to the tent, our for- 
 mer experience having satisfied me that the bark 
 cabin was not a place for sleeping. And here came 
 the first convincing proof of the benefit I was to 
 derive from camp life. I found the tent as condu- 
 cive of sleep as the cabin had been antagonistic to 
 its enjoyment. To those accustomed all their lives 
 to the stifling atmosphere of the ordinary chamber, 
 it would be impossible to convey an adequate idea of 
 the delicious purity of the air as inhaled under can- 
 vas. Always as fresh as if out of doors, the tent 
 still shields the sleeper from the wind, and makes a 
 draught, that everlasting promoter of colds, an im- 
 possibility. From that first night I became an en- 
 thusiast over canvas coverings. Xor were my fore- 
 bodings with regard to the leaking of the tent in a 
 single instance verified. Throughout all the four 
 months and a half which we spent in camp, not once 
 did the rain penetrate the tent. And this was due to 
 
THE WILDERNESS. AND THE EXPERIMENT. 25 
 
 no lack of test, for we had days when the drenching 
 storms were enough to put the best shingled house to 
 a severe trial. Moreover, our tent was neither new 
 nor exceptionally secure. It was purchased at second- 
 hand of a guide, and had done service for two or 
 three years. The " fly " which protected it was made 
 of ordinary cotton cloth and afterward immersed in 
 linseed-oil. 
 
 For the first four weeks of camp life the only per- 
 ceptible improvement in my condition was in the 
 matter of sleep. Although still troubled at intervals 
 by the cough, and by no means exempt from the 
 sweats, still as a whole the nights brought a measure 
 of rest which I had not known for many weeks. I 
 had hoped to find a keener appetite for food in this 
 out-door life, and some abatement of the cough. I 
 cannot say that I expected these results, but the faith 
 of others was so great that it gave me at least hope. 
 But no such cheering symptoms manifested them- 
 selves. The cough — except, as I have already ex- 
 plained, during the night — remained as vicious as 
 before. The fever became more constant, and that 
 in the face of large doses of quinine recommended 
 by the doctors. Instead of gaining, my appetite grew 
 less and less, until most of the nourishment taken was 
 in the form of beef-tea, milk, and raw eggs. Oc- 
 casionally the sputa was colored with blood, and I 
 was continually apprehensive of hemorrhage. With- 
 out energy enough even to find solace in reading, I 
 passed the days listlessly in a chair, with no other 
 desire than to be let alone. 
 2 
 
26 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 So passed the first month. The weather was vari- 
 able and very different from what I had been led to 
 expect. The Fourth of July, for example, came and 
 went, while we shivered over a roaring fire. Two 
 weeks later, a hot wave struck us, which sent the 
 mercury up among the nineties, even in the coolest 
 spot of our pine-shaded ground. Along with these 
 sudden and extreme changes of temperature, came a 
 great deal of rain and some wind. The insects did 
 what they could to bother us, and our lack of experi- 
 ence cost us many petty annoyances, which would 
 seem silly to enumerate, but which are not trivial to 
 the invalid. 
 
 With the second month a gain, very slight, but 
 still appreciable, began to show itself. There were 
 days when I could eat with fair relish, when the 
 fever was wholly absent, and when my energy was 
 sufficiently aroused to do a little work in the way of 
 writing, and to take some slight physical exercise. 
 Sometimes these good turns would cover a period of 
 three or four days. Of tener, however, they gave way 
 at the end of twenty -four hours to a condition wherein 
 all the worst symptoms displayed themselves anew. 
 At my best, it must be remembered that the cough 
 was always present, and always persistent. At my 
 worst there were also the fever, the nervous prostra- 
 tion, and a miserably impaired digestion. 
 
 At the close of the third month, that is, toward 
 the latter part of September, I had made some un- 
 mistakable progress. With rare exceptions I sat 
 down to my meals with a good appetite. I could 
 
THE WILDERNESS AND THE EXPERIMENT. 27 
 
 walk half a mile without overtaxing my strength. 
 Patience, atropine, and the pure air of the tent had 
 about mastered the sweats. The nights, although 
 sometimes wakeful, were still restful. I spent an 
 hour or two every day in writing, and kept in motion 
 enough to give me a fair amount of exercise. 
 
 From this time to the breaking up of our camp, 
 November 3d, I continued to pick up a little, albeit a 
 backward wave would at intervals strike me and 
 temporarily chill my hopes. But when we took down 
 the canvas tent in a driving snow-storm, nineteen 
 weeks after we had first slept under its shelter, I felt 
 that the camp life experiment had proved a success. 
 I had gone in miserable, indifferent, and skeptical. I 
 was not cured ; but I came out comfortable, alive, 
 and full of hope. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 SOME DELUSIONS DISPELLED. 
 
 "When we first came into the wilderness, or more 
 strictly speaking, when the idea of coming was first 
 decided upon, a little definite information would have 
 been of much practical value. A knowledge of what 
 was needed for the trip, of what ought to be done 
 after we had reached our destination and of what 
 manner of life it was that we were to lead, would 
 have saved us an undetermined amount of annoyance, 
 disappointment, and unnecessary expense. In short, 
 if some other fellow had recorded his experience be- 
 fore the summer I went into the woods, I should 
 have blessed him, and I should not have written this 
 little book. 
 
 The physicians had said, " You must go to the 
 Adirondacks and camp out." Yery well. The Adi- 
 rondacks it is. And a very little investigation was 
 enough to show that the particular spot to go to must 
 be " Paul " Smith's. So far the programme was sim- 
 ple. But at this point all exact information came to 
 an abrupt end. There were the doctors themselves, 
 but they had never visited "Paul" Smith's, and 
 never camped out. Besides, they were not supposed 
 
SOME DELUSIONS DISPELLED. 29 
 
 to be encyclopedias of backwoods lore. Their duty 
 ended with the command to go. There was Dr. 
 Loomis's paper in the Medical Record. This I got 
 hold of and read with profound interest, but while it 
 gave large cause for hope, it left all minor details 
 untouched, and confined its narrative to that simple, 
 technical style, characteristic of the medical professor. 
 There was the Rev. Mr. Murray's book. That cer- 
 tainly ought to contain some important facts. So I 
 secured a copy and read it diligently. Facts I found, 
 and some very excellent reading to boot ; but the 
 possible tourist of Mr. Murray's imagination could 
 not be an invalid. He was to journey over long 
 " carries," run rapids, penetrate the unexplored for- 
 est, and shoot a deer whenever he was hungry. He 
 was to provide himself with a rifle, with strong 
 woollen trousers, a pair of woollen shirts, two pairs of 
 woollen socks, soft felt hat, top boots, a rubber over- 
 coat, and plenty of woollen blankets. This super- 
 abundance of woollen seemed a little mysterious for 
 midsummer wear. But for Mr. Murray's traveller it 
 was undoubtedly the thing. Mr. Murray further in- 
 structed his reader to make a bag of muslin in which 
 to tie up his head and thus shield it against insects, 
 and to procure a pair of stout buckskin gloves with 
 gauntlets, along with a copious supply of tar and 
 sweet oil. To his lady tourist he recommended short 
 flannel skirts, Turkish trousers, and a soft hat like a 
 man's. All this was undeniably good advice, but it 
 did not exactly meet the case of the invalid. 
 
 From Mr. Murray we turned to a dozen other 
 
30 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 books bearing upon the wilderness, but found only a 
 repetition of the woollen, gauze bags, and tar oil. 
 Nobody apparently had prepared for other than ro- 
 bust travellers in his calculations. It did not seem 
 safe to wholly ignore these numerous warnings, and so 
 we burdened ourselves with many useless things that 
 are never needed here nor elsewhere. I may be par- 
 doned if I undertake to dispel a few of the popular 
 delusions which have long been cherished with re- 
 spect to the Adirondacks, and which, when once re- 
 moved, may make the tour for health appear more 
 inviting. 
 
 To begin with, " camping out " may be absolutely 
 dissociated from salt pork, the frying-pan, and all 
 other abominations. One may surround himself, 
 forty miles in the wilderness, with all the comforts, 
 and nearly all the luxuries, that he might enjoy in his 
 own city home. This assertion is made, of course, 
 on the assumption that the camp is to be permanent, 
 and pitched within easy access of some one of the ho- 
 tels. In these pages all the facts given relate to the 
 St. Regis region, of which " Paul " Smith's may be 
 considered the centre. Perhaps other parts of the 
 wilderness afford equal advantages to the seeker after 
 health : but it will be my purpose to deal with those 
 matters only which come within range of my per- 
 sonal experience. A camp, then, situated within a 
 radius say of three miles from the hotel, can be made 
 thoroughly comfortable. And this is what is meant 
 by comfort : 
 
 A tent affording complete protection against rain 
 
SOME DELUSIONS DISPELLED. 31 
 
 and wind. A good bed in which yon may sleep be- 
 tween sheets, and in proper night-garments. Two 
 or three bark buildings, one of which may be used as 
 a sitting and lounging room, when the weather is 
 unpropitious ; another as a dining-room, and a third 
 as a kitchen. A small storehouse for garden imple- 
 ments, tools, etc. An open arbor, at the water's edge 
 an ice-house. In your tent and buildings well-laid 
 floors, a stove to take the chill off, if the night grows 
 cold, tables, chairs, books, writing utensils, a student 
 lamp, a clock, and such other conveniences as you 
 may desire. A good table, with a menu embracing 
 anything you want, from bouillon to ice-cream. A 
 daily mail. Wine and lager beer, stowed in the cool 
 bank of sand. A boat to glide over the picturesque 
 lake when you feel so disposed. The great forest 
 about yon, through which the wind comes laden with 
 the rare odors of pine and balsam. A cigar in the 
 evening as you sit in front of a blazing log lire, which 
 roars and crackles and makes fantastic shadows among 
 the giant trees. Freedom — delicious, absolute free- 
 dom — from dust and noise, and the roar of city 
 streets. 
 
 There is an idea of comfort. 
 
 But there are other mistaken beliefs regarding the 
 wilderness besides that which makes camp life a 
 hardship. Those who have drawn their information 
 from books, instead of experience, are pretty apt to 
 pin their faith on one of two extremes. Either they 
 picture the Adirondacks as a place where wild beasts 
 still rove at large, or else they speak of it disdain- 
 
32 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 fully as the resort of embryo sportsmen who never 
 shoot off their guns for fear of blackening the silver 
 mountings. Both of these extremists should come 
 up into the woods and look about them with discern- 
 ing eyes. They would concede, probably, that the 
 best hunting and fishing in New York State are to 
 be found here. Whether what is best in New York 
 would be more than tolerable in the far West admits 
 of doubt. The man who penetrates these woods for 
 the first time, expecting to find deer browsing in 
 herds, and schools of trout awaiting impatiently the 
 delusive fly, will be sadly disappointed. There are 
 deer here, undoubtedly — deer to be shot, if the hunts- 
 man is possessed of patience and skill enough to 
 shoot them ; but observation quickly convinces one 
 that these timid animals do not invite self-destruc- 
 tion by holding conventions in conspicuous places. 
 There are trout here, too, any number of them ; but 
 they are wise in their generation, and will not, as a 
 rule, accept every fly that is cast with unquestioning 
 confidence. From our own tent door we have seen 
 three tempting bucks at one time drinking in the 
 lake. And yet it was generally difficult to get hold 
 of venison throughout the season. An expert and 
 genial angler brought in, during our sojourn at the 
 hotel, a speckled trout which actually weighed five 
 pounds and a half. The skeptical reader may satisfy 
 himself of the truth of this assertion, whenever he 
 enters "Paul" Smith's, for the rare fish is preserved 
 in a glass case in the office. And yet, in spite of this 
 palpable proof of what the Adirondack waters con- 
 
SOME DELUSIONS DISPELLED. 83 
 
 tain, other expert fishermen may cast the fly all day 
 and land nothing bigger than a nine-ouncer. Brieiiy 
 put, game and fish are here, but they are not to be 
 had for the asking. 
 
 So far as the insect pest is concerned, it would not 
 be right to count it among the delusions ; but, as has 
 already been intimated, it is by no means the evil 
 generally represented. If one is careful in the selec- 
 tion of a camping spot, making it a point to find high 
 ground, overlooking the water, he need not worry 
 much about the insects. It would be unjust to rob 
 the Adirondack bugs of any of the glory which right- 
 fully belongs to them, but, certainly, their achieve- 
 ments in the past have been grossly exaggerated. I 
 have known mosquitoes — known them intimately and 
 to my sorrow — which, dwelling in the modest retire- 
 ment of a Brooklyn boarding-house, could do more 
 effective work in five minutes than their Adirondack 
 fellows can in five weeks. The black flies which 
 come early in the season, and disappear almost wholly 
 by the first of July, were scarcely seen by us in camp. 
 Midges are certainly a nuisance, but a very slight 
 breeze is enough to carry them off, and this breeze 
 we generally enjoyed. It may be necessary, oc- 
 casionally, to resort to the smudge — that is, a half- 
 smothered fire, kindled in an old pan or pail, and 
 placed in the tent long enough to smoke out the 
 winged nuisances — but, as a rule, the pollution of the 
 atmosphere caused by this remedy is more to be 
 dreaded than the evil itself. A mosquito netting to 
 cover the bed should always be provided. Yet even 
 2* 
 
34 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 this will be found unnecessary after the first week of 
 September, and from that time forth no trouble need 
 be apprehended from any sort of insect. 
 
 A few years ago it was a common thing to run 
 across a bear anywhere in the St. Regis region. So, 
 at least, the veteran guides declare, and doubtless 
 there is some foundation for the assertion. But all 
 the accounts of wild beasts in the woods to-day are 
 to be accepted with caution, if accepted at all. The 
 tourist might travel through the very heart of the 
 wilderness, and, indeed, spend his life in so travel- 
 ling, without once setting eyes on any animal more 
 ferocious than the deer. The wild beast feature may, 
 therefore, be entirely eliminated from Adirondack 
 life. 
 
 Then, again, although a camp should be pitched 
 forty miles in the wilderness, the dweller therein 
 would not be shut out from communication with the 
 world. He will get his mail regularly every day 
 through the hotel, and he will find the telegraph 
 wires at his disposal. He may read Monday morn- 
 ing's papers in his tent Tuesday afternoon. If urgent 
 reasons should make it necessary for him to return 
 at once to civilization, he can take his departure at 
 eight o'clock in the morning and awake the next 
 morning in New York. This consciousness of prox- 
 imity to the outer world, while one is seemingly shut 
 up in the primeval forest, does much to reconcile the 
 invalid to his new life. He is comforted, too, by the 
 reflection that skilful medical aid, if such should be 
 needed, is within reach ; for, apart from Dr. Trudeau, 
 
SOME DELUSIONS DISPELLED. 35 
 
 whom the year-round inhabitants are proud to regard 
 as belonging to the country, there is scarcely a week 
 during the camping-out season, when one or more 
 physicians may not be found at the hotel. Dr. 
 Loomis owns a cottage within a stone's throw of the 
 St. Regis Lake House, in which he spends a month 
 or two every summer. The consumptive does not 
 come into the wilderness to dose himself with med- 
 icine, but it is nevertheless a good thing to have a 
 trustworthy physician within easy call. 
 
 Adopting the theory which is held to by most of 
 the medical authorities of the day, that phthisis is a 
 disease which calls for an abundance of the most 
 nutritious food, the invalid in the woods finds him- 
 self in a peculiarly fortunate position. For here he 
 may obtain, with comparatively little trouble, almost 
 anything he desires to eat. Through the supply- 
 store in the hotel, the delicacies and dainties of the 
 table are at his disposal. Beef, mutton, and poultry 
 are always to be had. In its season, venison, while 
 not superabundant, can generally be obtained as often 
 as the patient craves it. Speckled trout, fresh from 
 the clear waters of the mountain streams, are as 
 plentiful as smelts in Fulton Market. Later, the 
 partridge tempts the appetite, and is supplied at 
 surprisingly cheap rates. Fresh eggs, pure milk, and 
 excellent butter are all to be had from the inhabit- 
 ants or hotel. In short, if good living ever enables 
 a man to conquer consumption, this is the place to 
 find it. 
 
 Briefly, then, to recapitulate : this wilderness ex- 
 
36 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 periment need entail no hardship, no privation, and, 
 as I shall show hereafter, only a very moderate out- 
 lay of money. In setting out on the journey the in- 
 valid need not encumber himself with any of the ex- 
 traordinary equipments enumerated in the guide- 
 books. He may rest assured that his camp-life can 
 be made comfortable and even luxurious. He has 
 the word of the writer, given after full and fair ex- 
 perience, that a bed in a canvas tent is one of the de- 
 licious things in this life which, after trial, can never 
 be forgotten. If his strength permits, and his taste 
 runs in that direction, he may be sure that he will 
 find fair hunting and excellent fishing in the St. Regis 
 region. On the contrary, if he is too much of an in- 
 valid to indulge in these pursuits, or if he has no 
 fondness for them, he may solace himself with the 
 reflection that others will gladly provide him with 
 fish and game. If a lady, nervous and timid, she 
 may put the wild beast bugbear out of mind once 
 and for all. As for the flies and mosquitoes, they 
 are too trivial an annoyance to be seriously considered. 
 The patient is not shut off from communication with 
 the outer world nor from agreeable companionship. 
 He is not put beyond the reach of skilful medical 
 attendance. He is not obliged to forego the pleas- 
 ures of the table. In a word, he is not compelled to 
 make any great sacrifice in return for the precious 
 privilege of breathing in, by night and by day, this 
 God -given, life-saving air. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR AN" INVALID^ CAMP. 
 
 Let it be supposed that the searcher after health 
 lias made up his mind to give the Adirondack ex- 
 periment a trial. This conclusion should he reached, 
 of course, only after consultation with a reputable 
 physician. For it is always to be borne in mind, 
 that while the more apparent symptoms of what is 
 called consumption bear a close resemblance in pret- 
 ty much all cases, yet the treatment required for one 
 may be very different from another. And certainly 
 it is not the purpose of the writer to persuade others 
 to try the experiment of the woods unless with the 
 consent of a doctor in whom the patient himself has 
 confidence, and under whose advice he acts. 
 
 Supposing, however, the advice to have been given, 
 and the trip determined upon. For its preparation, 
 as has been already said, no extraordinary steps need 
 be taken. If a man, the invalid will pack his trunk 
 with such articles as naturally suggest themselves for 
 a sojourn abroad of six months or a year. The only 
 deviation from the usual necessities should be made 
 by substituting woollen shirts for those which need 
 the laundryman's skill before wearing. Linen cuffs 
 
36 THE WILDEENESS CUKE. 
 
 and collars may be dispensed with, and a plentiful 
 supply of underclothing and woollen socks provided. 
 It is a good thing, too, to have a night-dress of flan- 
 nel, long and loose. In the case of a woman, it would 
 be presumptuous to dictate her wardrobe, but she 
 may safely leave behind her the Turkish trousers 
 and gauze bags. For anybody, the simple direction 
 to take plenty of good warm apparel is enough. 
 
 From whatever point the tourist sets out, unless it 
 be from Montreal or that part of Xew England which 
 lies nearer to Lake Champlain than to Boston or 
 Albany, he should make Saratoga his objective point. 
 Thence the journey to Plattsburg may be accom- 
 plished all the way by rail, in something less than 
 six hours ; or a steamer may be taken at Whitehall 
 by those who care to get a better view of the pictu- 
 resque Lake Champlain. Plattsburg is well provided 
 with hotels, and a pleasant rest of a day or two may 
 be taken there, if desired. The distance to St. Regis 
 Lake is. about sixty miles. At present, twenty of 
 this is made by rail, and the remainder by stage. It 
 is expected, however, that before the close of the 
 summer of 1881 this stage ride of forty miles will 
 be shortened by more than one third — the railroad, 
 which was built by the State to the Clinton Prison, 
 liaving been extended so as to bring it to a point 
 twenty-four miles from " Paul " Smith's. It remains 
 now only to cut a carriage-road through the woods 
 from the terminus of the railroad to the hotel. 
 However, the invalid need not be frightened out of 
 coming at the prospect of travelling over the old route. 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR AN INVALID^ CAMP. 39 
 
 He will find the stage ride much less irksome than 
 he supposes, and if too weak to make the entire trip 
 in one day, he may stop over at the half-way house, 
 which is reached about noon, and which supplies the 
 traveller with dinner. If the invalid chooses to push 
 ahead, he will be set down at "Paul" Smith's some- 
 where about five o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 It is safe to assume that pretty nearly everybody 
 who has heard of the Adirondacks has heard also 
 of Paul Smith's. Indeed, the definiteness with which 
 that name is fixed in the tourist's mind causes him 
 to stare with rather a nonplussed expression at the 
 sign which greets his eyes when he first steps from 
 the stage on to the piazza of this remarkable hostelry. 
 Can it be that he has gone astray and brought up at 
 the wrong spot ? If not, why is the sign over the 
 door " A. A. Smith," instead of " Paul " Smith ? 
 When he comes to solve this riddle, he learns that 
 the genial backwoods landlord was originally named 
 Apollos Austin. The Austin was condensed to an 
 A., and the Apollos abbreviated to Polly, which in 
 good time reduced itself to Pol. This stood the test 
 of some years, but finally, by precisely what system 
 remains unknown, evolved itself into Paul. To-day, 
 the owner of the double-vowel initials repudiates 
 them both and recognizes himself only as Paul. This 
 metamorphosis in name is less remarkable than that 
 in the landlord's surroundings. Twenty years ago, 
 when " Paul " Smith put up a frame building of 
 modest dimensions to accommodate the stray sports- 
 men who occasionally drifted through that part of the 
 
40 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 wilderness, lie would have counted twelve lodgers oh 
 a single night as indicative of amazing prosperity. 
 Now, in what is called " the season," more than three 
 hundred guests often find accommodation in the 
 house. By successive stages of growth — periodic ad- 
 ditions of wings and Ls — the original tavern has 
 stretched itself into the proportions of a first class 
 summer-resort hotel. Indeed, its wings are so ab- 
 surdly out of proportion to it3 original body, that it 
 presents a butterfly appearance to those who knew 
 it of old. The general verdict of all who make the 
 hotel their headquarters is that it sets an excellent 
 table, and furnishes every comfort which in reason 
 can be expected. The rooms are neat and attractively 
 furnished, the beds what they should be, the attend- 
 ance good, and the general atmosphere of the house 
 pleasant and homelike. But above all this, to the 
 person accustomed to a city hotel, the thing which 
 makes the deepest impression — which leads him al- 
 ways to return to " Paul " Smith's, after he has been 
 there once — is the unaffected kindness of the land- 
 lord and his wife. In this there is not the slightest 
 flavor of obsequiousness, nor a hint of mercenary 
 motive. In evolutionizing from Apollos to Paul, in 
 the transition from buckskin to point-lace surround- 
 ings, the man himself has not changed. No one is 
 ever more welcome than he when the big parlor is 
 crowded with fashionably dressed women and velvet- 
 coated sportsmen. Yet if you want to find " Paul," 
 you must look elsewhere than here, The simplicity 
 of his nature, which is in nowise allied to simpleness, 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR AN INVALID^ CAMP. 41 
 
 would be ref resiling in any man. It is absolutely 
 irresistible in the proprietor of a " fashionable " hotel. 
 
 For, I grieve to say, that Paul Smith's has become 
 an undeniably fashionable resort. You will find less 
 vulgar display than at Saratoga, but you will also 
 find more solid wealth and more genuine purse-aris- 
 tocracy. Precisely why these robust ladies put them- 
 selves to the inconvenience of penetrating the wilder- 
 ness for the purpose of displaying their diamonds on 
 the hotel-piazza, of reading a novel or lounging lazily 
 in their rooms, of playing a mild game of whist and 
 eating three hearty meals a day, is a mystery. For, 
 although fashionable, St. Pegis Lake affords most 
 limited opportunities for the display of wealth where 
 it can be seen of others. The year-round inhabitant 
 is certainly an unpromising subject to undertake to 
 dazzle. The man who has never seen a train of cars 
 in this age is not to be made envious by diamonds or 
 the most elaborate of toilets. 
 
 The fashionable element, however, is not to be 
 counted a drawback in the case of the invalid. On 
 the contrary, it is much better that he should be set 
 down on the gay piazza of the hotel, where laughter 
 and bright faces and the hum of many voices tell of 
 the pleasures of life, than that he should find his 
 destination a sanitarium pervaded by the odor of the 
 sick-room. The very presence of these thoughtless, 
 sound-lunged persons often proves a kind of tonic. 
 His cough brings no sympathetic response from any 
 fellow-sufferer — only a kind of brazen stare from 
 the man with the athletic chest and the friar's diges- 
 
42 THE WILDEKNESS CUKE. 
 
 tion ; and that stare awakens the invalid's resentment, 
 and causes him to struggle with the wretched indica- 
 tion of his ailment until he strangles it for the time 
 being. 
 
 As to the length of time to be spent at the hotel 
 before entering upon the experiment of camp-life, 
 that must, of course, be largely determined by cir- 
 cumstances. If the patient's strength permits, there 
 is no reason why he should not be established in his 
 tent within a week after his arrival. But should his 
 condition be more critical, it may be necessary to de- 
 lay the removal to camp until the bracing air has 
 done something toward building up the wasted pow- 
 ers. In rare instances, where the disease is far ad- 
 vanced, it may not be advisable to try the camp-life 
 at all, but in lieu thereof, to remain permanently at 
 the hotel. In any event, it will be best to leave the 
 question of camping-out to the physician — not neces- 
 sarily to the home doctor, but to" some one of the 
 faculty who is personally familiar with this manner 
 of life. For our present purpose, let it be assumed 
 that the invalid is strong enough to try the camp as 
 soon after his arrival as the necessary preparations 
 can be made. What steps shall he take to best ac- 
 complish his object ? 
 
 First. — It is all-important that the invalid should 
 secure the services of a faithful, competent guide. 
 That word is used in conformity with the vernacular 
 of the wilderness. As a matter of fact, there is very 
 little " guiding " required by the person who is hunt- 
 ing for health. But as all the men who offer their 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR AN INVALID S CAMP. 4J 
 
 services are called guides, the word may be used to 
 avoid confusion. A good guide, then, is the first 
 essential thing to find. And this question, like many 
 others, may be advantageously left to the managing 
 clerk of the hotel, Mr. Charles E. Martin. 
 
 Second. — The selection of a guide once made, the 
 next step will be the choice of a spot whereon to 
 pitch the camp. In deciding this question it should 
 be kept in mind that the point chosen ought not to 
 be more than a mile or two from the hotel, that it 
 should be on high ground, as nearly surrounded by 
 water as possible, and as abundantly supplied with 
 trees as may be. Plenty of such places may be found 
 on the Upper and Lower St. Hegis Lakes, on Spitfire 
 and Osgood Ponds. It were much wiser to build a 
 camp within jiyq hundred feet of the hotel — and 
 many of them might be built within such a radius — 
 than to strike out too far from the centre of supplies. 
 High ground is to be looked to, not so much to avoid 
 dampness, for there is no dampness worth speaking 
 of in the region, as to keep clear of insects. The 
 proximity of pine and balsam trees is a most desir- 
 able thing, whether regarded from the medical point 
 of view or as a matter of mere comfort. For it should 
 not be forgotten that even in the Adirondacks there 
 are days when the sun blisters the earth and makes 
 shade most welcome. The camping-ground should 
 invariably border the water, not only because of the 
 invigorating breeze thus obtained, but also because 
 the mountain lakes are the highways over which 
 most of the travel is accomplished. 
 
44 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 Third* — We have now the guide and the camping- 
 ground. In the sequence of importance, the tent 
 stands next. This is so prominent a feature of the 
 whole experiment, that it will richly repay the in- 
 valid to provide himself with the Lest. If two per- 
 sons are to occupy the tent, it should be not less than 
 12 feet square. 12 by 14 feet is perhaps a better 
 size. If the camper-out is alone, the canvas will 
 serve its purpose if it measures 8 by 10 feet. Yet, 
 even for one person, the larger size is much to be 
 preferred. In case there is no question about the 
 invalid's ability to go into camp immediately upon 
 his reaching the wilderness, then it would be an ex- 
 cellent plan to purchase a tent before setting out on 
 his journey. Otherwise, he may either order one 
 after his arrival, or, if his sojourn is uncertain, he 
 may hire one from the hotel. Large or small, the 
 tent should be of the shape known as a wall tent, 
 sound and whole, and protected by a "fly." The 
 interior should always be floored, and provided with 
 a stove. For the rest of the furniture the taste of 
 the occupant must decide. A serviceable bedstead 
 can be constructed by the guide out of poles, but the 
 tourist should see to it that he is provided with a 
 good mattress or two, pillows, and plenty of warm 
 bedding. In place of an under mattress, boughs of 
 balsam or hemlock may be used, a covering of stout 
 cloth being first stretched over the bedstead. If the 
 guide possesses the usual ingenuity of his class, he 
 will be able to build tables, chairs, a lounge, and 
 many other useful articles of furniture. 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR AN INVALID' S CAMP. 45 
 
 Fourth. — Apart from the tent, the only building 
 absolutely necessary to the carrying out of the camp- 
 life experiment is a kitchen, which may be so divided 
 as to afford accommodations for the storage of pro- 
 visions. It is better, however, on some accounts to 
 have a separate storehouse or pantry, as the guide 
 calls it ; but this is a matter of individual preference. 
 Some sort of a place in which to cook, however, is 
 indispensable. Such a place can be put up in a day 
 by two competent men. If to be used only as a 
 kitchen, a bark building, say six feet by eight, will 
 serve all purposes. These bark buildings, which can 
 be made to display no little architectural beauty, are 
 constructed on a frame- work of poles and boards, to 
 which latter the bark is nailed. It is best to floor 
 the kitchen, and, indeed, all the buildings of a per- 
 manent camp, with boards ; but, except in the case of 
 a tent, it is not a necessity. A good cook-stove 
 should be the first and chiefest adornment of the 
 kitchen. They have some theories here, indigenous 
 to the country, of cooking by an open fire out of 
 doors. The idea is poetical, but the palpable results 
 are smoky. Let the kitchen be furnished with all 
 the utensils usually found in such quarters, and let 
 the frying-pan be hung so high up that the guide can 
 reach it only in case of an emergency. If the store- 
 room is to be a part of the same building, make the 
 kitchen three or four feet longer. If separate quar- 
 ters are provided for the keeping of ice, food, and 
 other stores, it will be found wiser to put up a build- 
 ing six or seven feet square, rather than a mere cup- 
 
46 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 board. The storehouse, in any case, should have a 
 cellar ; and if the floor is boarded, this may be cov- 
 ered by a trap-door. 
 
 Fifth. — The proximity of the hotel makes unne- 
 cessary the laying-in of a large stock of provisions ; 
 but on many accounts it is advantageous to buy the 
 staple articles of food in considerable quantities. 
 Flour, oatmeal, hominy, canned vegetables, potatoes, 
 butter, eggs, sugar, tea, coffee, and whatever else is 
 needed, may be bought at the hotel, much or little, 
 as is desired ; also beef and mutton, ham and pork — 
 for the guide will be unhappy without the latter. 
 For milk it will be best to look to the nearest year- 
 round inhabitant who keeps a cow. From a similar 
 source eggs and butter may be obtained. The coun- 
 try is too bleak, and the soil too sandy, for the pro- 
 duction of early spring vegetables, but, still, string 
 beans, green peas, sweet corn, squashes, beets, onions 
 and turnips, with now and then a cucumber and 
 musk-melon, may all be had in good time. "Wild 
 strawberries and blueberries are plentiful. Tomatoes 
 rarely ripen, so that the canned article must be sub- 
 stituted. A week's rations will be all sufficient to 
 take into camp at the outset. 
 
 Sixth. — The regular guide furnishes his own boat ; 
 but in the case of a man who is hired to take charge 
 of a permanent camp, he may or may not be the pos- 
 sessor of this indispensable accompaniment. All 
 other things equal, the man with a boat is much to 
 be preferred to the man without one. If, however, 
 the camper-out sees fit, he may engage a boat for the 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR AN INVALID'S CAMP. 47 
 
 season from the hotel, or he may buy one outright. 
 For the other absolutely necessary things — stoves, 
 boards for the bark building and floors, nails, mat- 
 tresses, bedding, crockery, and cooking utensils, a 
 mosquito-netting, candles — the novitiate need only 
 make known his wants to the clerk of the hotel and 
 all will be provided. 
 
 When the foregoing steps have been taken, the 
 invalid will be prepared to move into camp. As for 
 enlarging and beautifying his primitive quarters, 
 that will be a task to afford pleasant occupation after 
 he has taken possession. "What has already been 
 pointed out will be quite sufficient for him to begin 
 the experiment comfortably and auspiciously. 
 
CHAPTER Y. 
 
 MAKING A CAMP ATTRACTIVE. 
 
 At the outset of camp life, assuming that the 
 invalid has never tried it before, there will be, of 
 necessity, some drawbacks and disappointments. 
 Perhaps the weather will be cold or stormy, making 
 it imperative to hug the stove the day through. Or 
 perhaps the guide's manner of preparing food will 
 prove unsatisfactory, thereby making the food itself 
 seemingly of poor quality. Or perhaps a high wind 
 will come up at night and roar through the trees with 
 a dismal sound, and shake the tent with such vio- 
 lence that the occupant will believe his frail structure 
 is about to be blown to atoms. Or perhaps the 
 excitement attendant upon arranging the camp, ad- 
 ded to the strangeness of the life, will temporarily 
 prostrate the patient and cause the bad symptoms to 
 display themselves with renewed virulence. Under 
 any or all of these discomforting conditions, it must 
 be the one great aim of the invalid not to grow dis- 
 couraged. A fortnight, a month, two months may 
 pass, and still no perceptible results of the new mode 
 of life can be perceived. And still it is the health- 
 seeker's one chance, to hold to the faith which first 
 inspired him to make the experiment. 
 
MAKING A CAMP ATTRACTIVE. 49 
 
 When Nature is called in as a physician, she is 
 often dishearteningly slow in her process and cure. 
 She has none of Dr. Lumbo's liniment in her phar- 
 macopoeia. She exacts unquestioning belief in her 
 powers, and a patience which endures with the dura- 
 tion of life. The experimenter in the wilderness 
 has been in the grip of grim disease for months — for 
 years, possibly. For months, for years, he has been 
 breathing in the poisoned air of crowded cities and 
 un ventilated rooms. Slowly, very slowly, as the 
 walls of the dungeon closed in, inch by inch, on the 
 wretched prisoner, until the great apartment had 
 become but a tomb, so the hand of disease has closed 
 upon its victim. And this terrible grip in a day, nor 
 a month, cannot be loosened. Perhaps it never can 
 be loosened ; but if at all, only by that slow process 
 of Nature which prints the delicate fern upon the 
 solid rock. That wondrously fine tissue of the lungs 
 has been torn and wasted by the racking cough. If 
 this waste is to be checked, it must be a work of pa- 
 tient labor. So, if the experiment of pure air is to 
 be tried at all, it should be undertaken with the firm 
 resolve to give it a full and fair trial. Otherwise, 
 the consumptive would better keep out of the wilder- 
 ness altogether. 
 
 If he has the pluck to withstand the first few dis- 
 couragements which will be pretty sure to fall to his 
 lot, the invalid will very soon discover many things 
 about camp life which make it in the end decidedly 
 pleasant. It is somewhat of a gift, and not wholly a 
 virtue to be acquired, for one to adapt himself easily 
 3 
 
50 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 to his surroundings. Still, will-power has something 
 to do with making one contented. If the patient is 
 strong enough to interest himself in the work of im- 
 proving the camp, he is to be counted fortunate. 
 Naturally, a person will take more or less pride in 
 fitting up attractively quarters he is to occupy for a 
 considerable period, and where the means for doing 
 this are so abundantly furnished as in the woods, the 
 work may be prosecuted with very gratifying results. 
 Our suppositious invalid has thus far provided him- 
 self only with what may be termed the indispensa- 
 ble adjuncts of camp life. He may now, with equal 
 pleasure and profit, devote himself to the procure- 
 ment of the luxuries possible in the wilderness. The 
 thousand and one little conveniences with which he 
 may surround himself will tend in no small measure 
 to make his new life attractive. 
 
 Nothing can be prettier in their way than the bark 
 buildings to which reference has been made. One 
 or two of these, in addition to the kitchen and store- 
 house, can easily be erected and serviceably used. 
 Whatever the virtues lacking in the average Adiron- 
 dack guide, mechanical ingenuity is certainly not 
 among them. He is quick in expedients, and handles 
 the hammer and saw like a skilful carpenter. So the 
 bark buildings, as well as the other contrivances 
 which may be mentioned, can be had with small out- 
 lay of time and money. One of these cabin-like 
 structures may be fitted up as a dining-room, to be 
 used in stormy weather or when it is too cold to eat 
 out-of-doors. Then, an open arbor, with the roof of 
 
MAKING A CAMP ATTRACTIVE. 51 
 
 bark covered, is both ornamental and useful. There, 
 in pleasant weather, the meals may be served, a sta- 
 tionary table being set up under the roof. If the 
 camper-out is given to hunting and fishing, a small 
 bark building can be utilized for the storage of guns 
 and fishing-tackle. The guide's quarters may be 
 either of bark or canvas, and he may be left to fur- 
 nish them for himself. 
 
 A boat-landing can be readily constructed by pro- 
 jecting two or three heavy logs into the water and 
 covering these with planks. It is a good thing, too, 
 to have some sort of structure in which to store the 
 boat when not in use. The all-serviceable bark may 
 be used for this purpose, and the boat-house can be 
 made an ornamental gateway to the camp. The small 
 spruce-trees, which almost everywhere in the region 
 are to be found in abundance, furnish precisely the 
 material wanted for the manufacture of rustic chairs 
 and benches. The ingenuity of the guide may be 
 counted upon for the construction of almost every 
 piece of furniture needful. That is, he can build 
 chairs, tables, a lounge and bedstead ; and all these 
 can be made not only comfortable, but tasteful, and 
 in keeping with the surroundings. It will be seen, 
 therefore, that there is no need to supply one's self be- 
 forehand with such articles as have been enumerated. 
 
 The work of improving and beautifying a camp 
 may be continued indefinitely, for something will 
 suggest itself daily, which, when done, will add to 
 the comfort or pleasure of the life. Of course, no 
 fixed rules can be laid down for the details of this 
 
52 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 work, since the location of the ground and individual 
 taste must determine how to proceed. It may not 
 be out of place, however, to sketch with some min- 
 uteness one camp which has had an existence other 
 than that on paper. This view, let it be remembered, 
 is taken toward the end of the camping-out season, 
 and after a four months' occupancy of the premises. 
 Some idea of its situation and general appearance has 
 already been given in these pages, but the Camp Lou 
 of October was a very different place from the Camp 
 Lou of June. 
 
 Standing, as has been said, on a bluff, which 
 stretches, peninsula-like, into the clear waters of Os- 
 good Pond, the natural advantages of the spot for 
 the purpose desired could not well be surpassed. 
 Almost always a cool breeze sweeps across the lake, 
 making the air, even in the hottest days, deliciously 
 cool. Whichever way the eye turns, it rests upon a 
 scene of singular beauty. The densely -wooded shore 
 across the lake rises darkly against the blue of the 
 more distant mountains. Nowhere within the whole 
 range of vision is there aught to be seen to mar the 
 face of ^Nature by the suggestion of man's laborious 
 toil. Xot a house nor barn nor fence nor foot of 
 cultivated soil. Nothing but the sentinel pines, and 
 ail the fragrant family of evergreens, the blue moun- 
 tains, the clear, transparent lake, and the over-arch- 
 ing sky. As you climb the gradual ascent which 
 leads from the boat-landing, your feet press down a 
 carpet of moss which grows luxuriantly on all sides. 
 Besides this, the sandy earth is strewn with the dried 
 
MAKING A CAMP ATTRACTIVE. 53 
 
 pine-needles and the stubby partridge-grass, while 
 here and there sprouts a blueberry bush, or a cluster 
 of plume-like ferns. 
 
 Facing the lake, and in a line with the precipitous 
 bank, stand the bark buildings and the canvas tent 
 which collectively make up the camp. First in order 
 comes the cabin. Its framework of spruce poles and 
 boards is covered with wide strips of bark. The in- 
 terior measures but ten feet by eight, while the porch 
 in front, over which the roof projects, adds six feet to 
 its length. Both the interior and porch are floored 
 with planks, while a rustic seat outside gives an invit- 
 ing appearance to the little house. The cabin is water- 
 proof, or at all events so nearly so that the rain is 
 not to be feared. It has its window, door, and stove, 
 and is altogether a snug place. Within may be 
 found a lounge, shelves containing books and maga- 
 zines, a rifle hanging on the wall, chairs, and a table. 
 In the cool autumnal days, this cabin serves as a 
 dining-room, while in the heat of summer it affords 
 a cool retreat for a midday nap. Next to the cabin, 
 and a dozen or more feet beyond it, is the tent. This 
 measures thirteen feet by twelve. The board floor 
 is partly covered with rags, while the open stove rests ( 
 on a stone fireplace. The furniture of the tent, al- 
 beit mostly home-made, is comfortable and designed 
 for use. There is a bed, quite as inviting as one 
 finds in his own room. A writing-table, a set of 
 shelves, a bookcase, a waslistand, two easy chairs and 
 a trunk, transformed into an ottoman, complete the 
 equipments. Beyond the tent, in line with it, are 
 
54 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 two more bark buildings, the first the kitchen and 
 the second the storehouse. Still further on and 
 nearer the bank is an open arbor, densely shaded by 
 spruce-trees. Then there are the guide's quarters, 
 and, here and there, under the branches of the trees, 
 rustic benches and chairs. 
 
 The stretch of level ground on which Camp Lou 
 is built, cost no little labor to prepare ; for, origin- 
 ally, the earth was uneven and disfigured by the 
 stumps of fallen pines which may have gone down in 
 a forgotten forest fire. Young spruces have been set 
 out at various points, and gravel walks connect the 
 several buildings. Taken as a whole, although the 
 adornments are of a simple, and by no means ex- 
 pensive nature, the spot is attractive to the eye, and 
 the conveniences sufficient to make camp life a 
 pleasure rather than hardship. 
 
 It will be very quickly discovered by the new- 
 comer, that man's resemblance to the parrot is quite 
 as strongly developed here in the wilderness as in 
 the centres of civilization. The second camper-out 
 imitates the one who went before him, and the last 
 one follows pretty closely the footsteps of all who 
 have preceded. Another name. for this imitative 
 faculty is fashion — and there is a prevailing fashion 
 even in the construction of camps. Precisely what 
 that is may be best learned from the guides who have 
 their own ideas as to how things ought to be done. 
 The camper-out will sometimes do better to be gov- 
 erned by his own judgment than by that of others. 
 Of course, the size of a camp should be regulated by 
 
MAKING A CAMP ATTRACTIVE. 55 
 
 the number of persons it is intended to accommodate. 
 Its adornments will perhaps be determined by tlie 
 purse of the builder. Given the necessary equip- 
 ments, and the ordinary work of a camp for two peo- 
 ple can be satisfactorily done by one good man. If, 
 however, one wishes to make more of a display, half 
 a dozen guides — it will be remembered that this 
 word is used simply as a convenient way of designat- 
 ing those native and to the wilderness born — may be 
 given employment. Precisely the same rule can be 
 applied to the camp as to the private house, and the 
 domestic economy of one bears a strong resemblance 
 to the other. If rich enough to afford it, the patient 
 in the wilderness may have his valet, his cook, his 
 butler, his coachman, and his retinue of attendants all 
 as devoted as valets, cooks, butlers, and coachmen 
 ever were or will be. But if too poor to surround 
 himself with these auxiliaries, he may still live, and 
 live comfortably, with a single competent attendant. 
 Among the minor things which it will be well to 
 look after closely when fitting up a camp, are the 
 floors, especially in the tent, the stoves, and the 
 roofs of the bark buildings. The fact seems a little 
 odd, but it is none the less a fact, that in the very 
 heart of a lumber-growing country, lumber is unusu- 
 ally difficult to obtain. For the most part unplaned, 
 and generally unseasoned, planks are used in the con- 
 struction of a camp. These serve well enough for a 
 majority of purposes, but when it comes to the floor- 
 ing of the tent, well-seasoned, matched boards, and 
 no others, should be used. This is of much import- 
 
56 THE WILDEENESS CUKE. 
 
 ance, for the reason that the rougher timber warps 
 and shrinks under the action of the weather, so that 
 when the colder days of autumn come around, the 
 floor is filled with wide crevices through which the 
 wind blows up uncomfortably cold. It need hardly 
 be said that this is a condition of things which the 
 invalid should avoid. With regard to the stoves, it 
 is to be remembered that whatever the season of the 
 year, or whatever the altitude of the mercury, no 
 health-seeker should think of going into camp with- 
 out providing his tent with some sort of heating ap- 
 paratus. Even if the days are scorchingly hot, there 
 is pretty sure to come a time in the twenty-four hours 
 when the air grows chilly ; and it is always safe, 
 moreover, to count on some stormy days, even in 
 midsummer, when a fire is most acceptable. The 
 necessity of making the roofs of the bark buildings 
 as nearly water-proof as may be, will be apparent to 
 all. This can much better be accomplished when 
 the building is first constructed, than afterwards by 
 attempting to calk up the crevices. If the boards 
 which support the bark on the roof be placed not 
 more than a foot apart, and the bark itself be lapped 
 over, shingle -fashion, and closely nailed, there will 
 be little to fear from the rain. 
 
 " If the first season of camp life justifies the patient 
 in looking forward to a second trial of it, it may be a 
 good thing to have an ice-house built in the autumn 
 and stored with ice during the winter. This may be 
 done with little trouble and expense. Two or three 
 tons are enough to last through the camping-out 
 
MAKING A CAMP ATTRACTIVE. 57 
 
 period, and besides saving the labor of bringing the 
 ice from the hotel, its place of storage forms a capi- 
 tal refrigerator for keeping supplies through the hot 
 weather. 
 
 The land about the St. Regis region is for the 
 most part private property. It is held in immense 
 tracts by individual owners. The right to the ground 
 is not, therefore, a legal one, with the camper-out. 
 But so long as a proper regard is shown for the pres- 
 ervation of the property, and care taken not to ma- 
 liciously injure the woodland, nobody need fear dis- 
 possession. 
 
 3* 
 
CHAPTER YI. 
 
 CAMP LIFE AS AN INVALID FINDS IT. 
 
 Given a fishing-rod and a rifle, as central figures ; 
 a mountain lake, flashing in the sunlight ; fragrant 
 forests of mighty pines, through which the timid 
 deer runs affrighted at the hounds' ominous bark; 
 hours of sweet idleness and delicious communion 
 with nature, and, with all, a background of robust 
 health, of high spirits, of absolute freedom from 
 gnawing anxiety ; given all these, and it is not a very 
 difficult task to paint an attractive picture of camp 
 life. But where these happy conditions are in many 
 essential respects lacking ; where the camp is not an 
 Eden of a week for the tasting of sport, but the san- 
 itarium of a season for the getting of health, and, 
 above all, where the camper-out himself cannot cut 
 loose from the thraldom of disease, nor know the 
 keen pleasure of the rod and gun, then to invest 
 camp life with anything of a charm is a more per- 
 plexing undertaking 
 
 It seems to have been assumed by all whose enthu- 
 siasm has prompted them to write and publish their 
 experiences iu the Adirondacks, that everybody is 
 born into the world with a yearning for out-of-door 
 
CAMP LIFE AS AN INVALID FINDS IT. 59 
 
 sport. Perhaps there is a large foundation in fact 
 for this assumption. Still it must be confessed that 
 now and then some wretched barbarian comes to the 
 surface who finds no enjoyment in a gun — no ses- 
 tlietic delight in a fly-rod. Luckily this particular 
 specimen of the barbarian is rare, as are the people 
 who do not eat strawberries or relish oysters. But a 
 more numerous class of those who may hereafter seek 
 the wilderness as health-hunters only, will be found 
 composed of invalids, whose physical weakness, and 
 not natural inclination, will shut them off from the 
 enjoyment of the rod and gun. To these, more es- 
 pecially, this chapter will address itself, with a view 
 to indicating the camp life of an invalid. 
 
 It cannot be denied that this life is monotonous. 
 The days come and go with so little to distinguish 
 one from another, except it be the variable mood of 
 the weather, that one is really in danger of losing 
 track of time as completely as did Robinson Crusoe. 
 In densely-settled places — in the bustle of great cit- 
 ies—every day in the week gets to have a character 
 peculiar to itself. ISTobody could mistake Saturday 
 in Central Park any more than he could Sunday at 
 Manhattan Beach. What thrifty New England house- 
 wife would wash on any day save Monday, or iron on 
 any day save Tuesday ? What orthodox boarding- 
 house would omit to mark Friday with a fish ? But 
 here, in the heart of the vast wilderness, there is no 
 Monday nor Tuesday, and only a very faint impres- 
 sion of Sunday. The fish sign would make Friday 
 of pretty much all days, while the unbroken stillness 
 
60 TFTE WILDERNESS CUBE. 
 
 gives seven old Puritan Sundays to every week. Take 
 away the ability to hunt or cast a fly, and there is 
 really nothing left to the camper-out in the way of 
 circumstantial recreation. He must devise his own 
 amusements, and find contentment in what, under 
 other conditions, would perhaps seem tame and in- 
 sipid. He will have always the gracious companion- 
 ship of Nature — but that is something at once so 
 subtle and exalted, that all mankind are not permit- 
 ted to enjoy it. 
 
 The camp life of an invalid will be pleasant just 
 in proportion to the resources within himself for 
 making it so. If long accustomed to find recreation 
 in excitement, in society, in the stimulus of city at- 
 tractions, then, naturally, the seclusion and isolation 
 of the camp will be wearisome in the extreme. Not 
 a few of those who have already made the experi- 
 ment of the wilderness cure have found this tempo- 
 rary banishment so irksome, that they have volunta- 
 rily thrown up the chance of recovering health, and 
 gone back to die within hearing of the gay world's 
 laugh. For this very reason it has seemed proper 
 to impress upon those who may contemplate a trial 
 of the Adirondacks, the necessity of preparing for all 
 such discomforts as they will really be called upon to 
 encounter. If this little book were the product of a 
 physician's brain, it would not be likely to deal with 
 the question of cure in this unscientific manner. The 
 medical authorities, who decree that castor oil is 
 sometimes a needed remedy, do not stop to discuss 
 the probability of the pinafored -patient's objecting 
 
CAMP LIFE AS AN INVALID FINDS IT. 61 
 
 to the dose. With even better grounds, it might be 
 assumed that the person of mature years, who is fight- 
 ing a desperate disease, and who, unlike the young- 
 ster doomed to castor oil, is intelligent enough to 
 understand that the oil is for his good only, would 
 not hesitate to make any sacrifice of mere temporary 
 physical comfort for the sake of ultimate recovery. 
 And yet, limited as has been the writer's observation 
 in this matter, it has still served to convince him that 
 the whiskered phthisical patient is often quite as 
 obstinate as the small boy sentenced to castor oil. 
 Moreover, those things which are counted the veriest 
 trifles by the strong and able-bodied, assume often an 
 importance in the eyes of the confirmed invalid which 
 would be ridiculous were it not seriously connected 
 with his chances of recovery. It may so happen that 
 an unfortunate selection of a guide will determine a 
 patient to abandon the wilderness experiment alto- 
 gether. Or, barren in resources within himself, and 
 cut off from long-accustomed associations, he may 
 find the quiet monotony of camp life unendurable ; 
 and, in a moment of feverish longing for the bustling 
 city, he may hasten home, thus throwing to the winds 
 his. last hope of restored health. 
 
 The three degrees of comfort attainable in the 
 camp of the invalid may be thus formulated : First, 
 if the patient is in the earlier stages of the disease 
 so that he can roam about at will, and is possessed 
 of an honest love of nature and of the hunter's or 
 fisherman's craft, then there is no reason why he 
 should not be in a state of superlative contentment. 
 
G2 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 Again, supposing him still strong enough to enjoy 
 life, and to feel a well man's interest in what is 
 taking place, then, even if he has no taste for the 
 sportsman's pursuits, his camp life may, nevertheless, 
 represent comparative contentment. But if he be an 
 actual sufferer from the more acute phthisical symp- 
 toms, doomed to wearying inaction, and additionally 
 unfortunate in possessing neither a love of sport nor 
 a mind to grasp the beauties of nature, then it is 
 easy to perceive that his lot in the wilderness will be 
 one of positive misery. Yet in so deplorable a con- 
 dition as the last, it may be questioned whether he 
 would not be positively miserable anywhere. 
 
 Nothing can add so much to the attractiveness of 
 the invalid's camp as congenial companionship. The 
 man who is so blessed by fate as to be able to bring 
 wife and children into the wilderness with him — 
 and this, as will be demonstrated later, is practicable 
 even to the degree of economy — has, perhaps, the 
 best chance for recovery, and the smallest claim to 
 sympathy. If there be no wife or child, then some 
 one near of kin and dear to heart should, if possible, 
 bear the patient company. The society, too, of the 
 hotel and the neighboring camps may be sought 
 with profit. Nature is sometimes wonderfully helped 
 in the miracle of turning the consumptives watery 
 blood to wine by the bright presence of kindred and 
 friends. It may be, of course, impossible in all 
 cases for the invalid to be thus attended, but com- 
 panionship should be counted by no means an unim- 
 portant element in the wilderness experiment. 
 
CAMP LIFE AS AN INVALID FINDS IT. 63 
 
 After all, the thing which is pretty sure to do most 
 toward making the sick man contented is the con- 
 sciousness that he is gaining health, even if it be by 
 inches. To a greater degree than any other method 
 of cure which the doctors have advocated this camp- 
 ing-out tends to turn a man's thoughts away from his 
 own condition. That is no small thing itself. One can- 
 not live very long in St. Augustine or Santa Barbara, 
 an invalid himself, without daily contact with those 
 suffering from the same malady, and seeking the 
 same end by precisely the same measures. That end 
 has not been reached often enough to make the sub- 
 ject an encouraging one for conversation. And yet 
 a dozen invalids thrown together will inevitably turn 
 to their ills as the one theme in which there is unan- 
 imous interest. Still worse, on this account, is any 
 regular sanitarium, where the constant society of 
 those similarly afflicted must be, as it always has 
 been, a serious drawback to recovery. In the wil- 
 derness camp the patient is effectually removed from 
 all these unfavorable conditions. Around and about 
 him on every side, are the evidences of vigorous life. 
 Life in the grand old pines, in the whispering poplar, 
 in the tough -fibred tamarack ; life in the tapping of 
 the woodpecker, in the drum of the partridge, in 
 the whistle of the robin ; life in the startled deer, as 
 it leaps affrighted into the dense underbrush, and in 
 the squirrel as he springs nimbly from branch to 
 branch ; life in the placid lakes and laughing stream, 
 in the fresh breezes that blow across the land, in sky 
 and earth and water — everywhere life. And so the 
 
61 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 shadow of the great destroyer is swallowed up in 
 the sunlight and beauty and grandeur of nature. 
 
 Then, too, this isolation which the camp affords is 
 not allied to that sense of loneliness which attends 
 the invalid who seeks more remote resorts. I ad- 
 dress myself now, of course, to those who live in the 
 Eastern and Middle States, for from this vast region 
 thousands of health-seekers have gone forth in the 
 past, journeying to far-away places, nor ever bethink- 
 ing them of the rare virtues of this forest which 
 lies, as it were, at their doors. Probably every phy- 
 sician of much experience has had occasion to note 
 the ill effects which frequently attend this removal 
 from home and friends. There is a kind of heart 
 yearning — call it homesickness, if you please — -which 
 takes hold of a sick man banished to unfamiliar pla- 
 ces, too strong to be resisted. Now, while an Adi- 
 rondack camp may seem cut off from the busy world 
 as completely as a South Pacific island, yet the inva- 
 lid knows that in fact he is not very far away from 
 his home. He knows that the journey back is no 
 very great undertaking. In short, he knows that he 
 can put an end to his voluntary banishment to-mor- 
 row, if he chooses. And that gives him courage to 
 remain to-day. So far as the writer's own case is 
 concerned, this sense of freedom to do as he pleased 
 went a good way toward making camp life endurable. 
 
 Even a more important consideration than that of 
 contentment, is the relative cost of the wilderness 
 cure as compared with that of living in the places 
 winch have heretofore been regarded as the consump- 
 
CAMP LIFE AS AN INVALID FINDS IT. 65 
 
 tive's hope. This matter of money has nothing to 
 do with the theory of therapeutic measures, but, un- 
 fortunately, it has a great deal to do with the prac- 
 tice of them. Man is presumed to value his life 
 beyond any worldly possession. To the hard alter- 
 native of surrendering a remunerative position and 
 expending his last dollar, or yielding up his life, a 
 vast majority of mankind would unhesitatingly ac- 
 cept the former. But what is one to do if he has 
 no treasure to give in lieu of his life ? What is the 
 clerk, dependent on his meagre wages, to answer 
 when the physician tells him that he must go to the 
 South of France or Lower California, if he does not 
 want to die within six months ? As well recommend 
 him to go to the moon ; and the more certain the be- 
 lief that the impossible trip would restore him to 
 health and strength, the more bitter his cup 3 as he 
 reflects on the utter inability of any man to reach 
 the moon. But even the clerk can reach this wilder- 
 ness and pitch his tent, and try the experiment which 
 may give him a new lease of life. 
 
 If the camp life of the invalid is monotonous, it 
 is not, as has already been indicated, a life of either 
 privation or hardship. The sick man gets up in the 
 morning when he feels like it — say nine o'clock. He 
 finds at hand all the conveniences for making a toilet, 
 and when he steps from the tent into the crisp, fresh 
 air, he ought to be hungry and thankful. A breakfast, 
 as good as any man can reasonably expect, is ready, 
 steaming hot. Excellent butter, smoking muffins, fra- 
 grant coffee, and eggs which no man ever saw longer 
 
QG THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 ago than yesterday; a dish of dainty trout, now 
 crisply fried in cracker-crumbs, but two hours ago 
 jumping at flies in the water ; baked or fried pota- 
 toes, with a leaf of fresh salad ; milk that produces 
 more cream to the square inch than the city-restau- 
 rant fluid does to the acre ; and with all this, the 
 inevitable wheat-cake, hot from the griddle, served 
 with a generous supply of maple-syrup. It is well 
 on to ten o'clock when the breakfast is over. Then, 
 if the day be warm and fair, the camper-out may 
 lounge under the trees and read the daily papers — a 
 day or two old, to be sure, but fresh enough up here. 
 Or he may take a turn on the lake, and try his hand 
 at fishing. Somewhere about one o'clock he is ex- 
 pected to grapple with a lunch of cold beef or chicken 
 or mutton, bread and butter, milk, fruit, and cake. 
 Then he may sleep or read or write or philosophize, 
 or wander off to explore the surrounding forests — 
 do anything, in short, that his fancy dictates. At 
 six o'clock he sits down to a dinner which, if not rel- 
 ished, will be the fault of the eater only. Roast veni- 
 son or lamb, green corn, tomatoes, potatoes, cucum- 
 bers, squash and beets, with a tempting entree or 
 two, in the shape of frogs' legs or game, salad, and a 
 blueberry pudding, not lacking the brandy-sauce — ■ 
 there is his menu. After that a cigar and an hour 
 about a roaring camp-fire ; or, later in the season, a 
 fire within the tent, the canvas flaps cozily drawn, 
 the student-lamp lighted, a good book, or a game at 
 chess, backgammon or cards at his preference. Then 
 bed. 
 
CAMP LIFE AS AN INVALID FINDS IT. 67 
 
 The domestic economy of the camp is generally in- 
 trusted to the guide ; and, if he be the right sort of 
 a man, this method saves considerable trouble. If, 
 however, a more direct supervision of affairs becomes 
 desirable, there is no reason why it cannot be exer- 
 cised. Supposing the camp to contain but two per- 
 sons, the invalid and his companion, and supposing, 
 further, that the money question cannot be eliminated 
 from the wilderness experiment, then one competent 
 guide should be counted as sufficient for all the work, 
 for the daily routine labors in a permanent camp 
 are neither very burdensome nor very numerous. 
 The chief difficulty is to find a really good man who 
 takes kindly to this sort of life. Yery many of them 
 prefer the much harder task of " guiding " proper, 
 with its attendant excitement and nomadic charm. 
 And perhaps this is not to be wondered at ; for their 
 lives are monotonous enough through the greater por- 
 tion of the year to make them keenly appreciative of 
 the company of pleasure-seeking sportsmen. Then, 
 too, many of them feel, and rightly, that they are 
 capable of something better than washing dishes and 
 making beds. There is, indeed; no reason why the 
 ordinary work of the invalid's camp should not be 
 performed by a woman. The duties would not be 
 unlike those of the average hired girl, in the average 
 city house. To cook the food would be her chief 
 task. Add to the woman a strong, active boy to 
 chop wood, draw water, and run errands, and the 
 domestic machinery of a camp could certainly be 
 kept in harmonious motion. ]STot that the services 
 
68 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 of a guide are not desirable always, and indispensa- 
 ble where the invalid intends to devote himself to 
 hunting or fishing ; but the suggestion is made for 
 the benefit of those who may care nothing for the 
 latter pursuits, and who are compelled to economize 
 in order to make the experiment at all. 
 
 Depending largely upon the hotel for supplies, as 
 most of the permanent camps do, it is customary to 
 send over daily for the mail, and such stores as may 
 be needed. This regular receiving of the mail marks 
 a bright hour in the day. The incentive of getting 
 it may also lead the patient, when his strength shall 
 have so far returned as to warrant it, to walk over 
 to the hotel, and thus get an hour's tramp equally 
 pleasant and beneficial. 
 
 Although the experiment has never, I believe, 
 been made, there is certainly no reason why a per- 
 son desiring to avoid the delay or trouble of fitting 
 up a camp, might not pitch a tent in the woods sur- 
 rounding " Paul " Smith's, and take his meals at the 
 hotel, while sleeping under canvas. This would give 
 him the benefit of the great end sought — the con- 
 stant breathing in of pure air — and at the same time 
 it would assure him an excellent table. It would 
 hardly do to recommend the plan on the score of 
 economy, however, as it would probably prove more 
 expensive than the full-fledged camp. 
 
 Nobody should attempt a prolonged residence in this 
 wilderness without that steadfast friend and faithful 
 companion — a dog. The Adirondack spaniel, which 
 is, perhaps, the most common breed here, is pos- 
 
CAMP LIFE AS AN INVALID FINDS IT. 69 
 
 sessed of a degree of intelligence, docility, and good 
 nature which raise him to the rank of the princes of 
 his kind. He is not often pretty to the eye, nor would 
 he, as a rule, pass muster under the close scrutiny of a 
 dog-fancier ; but if not pretty, he is good, and if 
 lacking in " points," he is rich in affection. lie takes 
 to partridges as naturally as the terrier to rats, and 
 he develops often into an acute and sagacious hunter. 
 His unvarying mildness is perhaps due, in part, to 
 his diet — -for the Adirondack dog gets very little 
 meat. There is also the deer-hound, excellent in his 
 special line of work, but less companionable than the 
 spaniel. Many an hour which would otherwise drag 
 wearily in camp, may be pleasantly passed in canine 
 company. Your dog never burdens you with long 
 stories or impertinent inquiries. He never has a sure 
 cure for your cough, which he insists upon your try- 
 ing. He is never moody nor out of sorts, nor averse 
 to a frolic. In short, he is tip-top company for a 
 sick man. 
 
 The camp may also afford refuge for live chickens, 
 and it might even be practicable to keep a cow. Dr. 
 Trudeau has a high opinion of the nutritive qualities 
 of milk, and has accustomed himself to take eight or 
 ten glasses through the day. 
 
 Altogether the camp life of the invalid ought to 
 be made as bright, as cheerful, and as comfortable 
 as the circumstances of the place will admit. If 
 sometimes the days drag monotonously — and they 
 will — let it be kept steadily in mind that if the ex- 
 periment is worth making at all, it is worth making 
 
70 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 well and thoroughly. And if weeks, and even months, 
 should pass, bringing little of that restored strength 
 which was promised, then let this solacing reflection 
 arise, that in nearly every instance where the case 
 has been serious, the patient has been called upon 
 thus similarly to put his faith to the test, but that in 
 the end the wilderness has wrought a cure which has 
 sometimes seemed little less than a miracle. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WINTERING IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 The proposition to spend a winter in the Adiron- 
 dack wilderness, when first made to a consumptive 
 invalid, shivering even in the May temperature of 
 ]STew York City, seemed grotesquely absurd. Most of 
 us have long been taught to look upon mild climate 
 as a prime requisite in the cure of weak lungs. To ac- 
 cept, in place of this orthodox creed, one diametri- 
 cally opposed thereto, and to voluntarily go in search 
 of what heretofore we had conscientiously run away 
 from, was like stumbling upon a new Galileo, with a 
 new dogma to shake fixed faith and disarrange the 
 stars themselves. 
 
 And yet this experiment of sending pulmonary 
 patients to winter in a cold region is by no means 
 new or untried. The virtues of the Alps in this mat- 
 ter have been put to the test for many years, and 
 with results that abundantly justify the theory. In 
 an untechnical, but interesting, paper, published some 
 two or three years ago in the Fortnightly Review, 
 and entitled "Davos in Winter," many facts are 
 given which bear so directly on the subject in hand, 
 that I may be pardoned for reproducing some brief 
 
72 THE WILDERNESS CUEE. 
 
 extracts therefrom. The writer tells us that a German 
 physician of repute, himself far gone in consumption, 
 determined in 1865 to try whether high Alpine air 
 was really a cure for serious lung disease. In spite 
 of having to rough it more than invalids find safe 
 and pleasant, the doctor derived so much benefit from 
 his first visit that he persevered and ultimately re- 
 covered his health. The result is that Doctor Unger 
 and his fellow- workers have transformed Davos from 
 a mere mountain village into a health-station fre- 
 quented by nearly one thousand invalids who passed 
 the winter with every comfort of good accommoda- 
 tion, excellent food, and not a few amusements. 
 Continuing, the writer in the IZevieio says : " The 
 method of cure is very simple. After a minute per- 
 sonal examination of the ordinary kind, your phy- 
 sician tells you to give up medicines, and to sit warmly 
 clothed in the sun as long as it is shining, to eat as 
 much as possible, to drink a fair quantity of Valtel- 
 line wine, and not to take any exercise. He comes 
 at first to see you every day, and soon forms a more 
 definite opinion of your capacity and constitution. 
 Then, little by little, he allows you to walk ; at first 
 upon the level, next up-hill, until the daily walks 
 begin to occupy from four to ~Q.ve hours. The one 
 thing relied upon is air. To inhale the maximum 
 quantity of the pure mountain air, and to imbibe the 
 maximum quantity of the keen mountain sunlight, 
 is the sine qica non. Every thing else — milk-drink- 
 ing, douches, baths, friction, counter-irritant appli- 
 cations, and so forth — is subsidiary. Medicine is very 
 
WINTERING IN THE WILDERNESS. 16 
 
 rarely used ; and yet the physicians are not pedan- 
 tic in their dislike of drugs. They only find by long 
 experience that they can get on better without medi- 
 cine. Therefore they do not use it except in cases 
 where their observation shows that it is needed. And 
 certainly they are justified by the result. The worst 
 symptoms of pulmonary sickness — fever, restless 
 nights, cough, blood-spitting, and expectoration — 
 gradually subside by merely living and breathing. 
 The appetite returns, and the power of taking exer- 
 cise is wonderfully increased. When I came to Da- 
 vos, for example, at the beginning of last August, I 
 could not climb two pairs of stairs without the great- 
 est discomfort. At the end of September I was able 
 to walk one thousand feet up hill without pain and 
 without fear of hemorrhage. This progress was main- 
 tained throughout the winter ; and when I left Davos, 
 in April, the physician could confirm my own sensa- 
 tion that the lung, which had been seriously injured, 
 was comparatively sound again, and that its wound 
 had been healed. Of course I do not mean that the 
 impossible had been achieved, or, in other words, 
 that what had ceased to be organic had been recom- 
 posed for me, but that the disease had been arrested 
 by a natural process of contraction." 
 
 All that the writer here claims for the little Alpine 
 village may be applied with equal force to the St. 
 llegis country. If the elevation of the latter is much 
 less than that of the former, the purity of the atmos- 
 phere, the abundance of sunlight, the complete ab- 
 sence of anything like dampness, and the almost 
 4 
 
74 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 magical results of the climate, are all as characteristic 
 of the Adirondack wilderness as of Davos. Here, as 
 there, the worst symptoms of pulmonary complaints 
 subside by merely living and breathing. Here, as 
 there, the appetite returns, and the progress of the 
 disease is arrested. But, whereas in Davos, the pa- 
 tient finds himself forced to combat the evil in- 
 fluences attending a sanitarium, to which reference 
 has already been made in these pages, in the wilder- 
 ness he may utterly avoid contact with people af- 
 flicted like himself; and, whereas, to a thousand 
 Americans upon whom consumption has laid its 
 skeleton hand, the long journey to the Alps would be 
 as impossible as a tour around the world, this experi- 
 ment of the wilderness may be made — and made with 
 small outlay and little discomfort. So I hope it will 
 not be charged to the overenthusiasm of the writer 
 if he claims even greater virtues for the Adirondacks 
 than others may for Davos. 
 
 Dividing the year" into the two seasons of camp 
 life and house life, the former, although necessarily 
 varying somewhat in length, may be set down as 
 covering at its maximum five months. It will very 
 seldom be found safe to get into camp before the 
 first of June ; nor is it, as a rule, desirable to remain 
 later than the middle of October. These remaining 
 seven months, then, constitute the winter season in 
 the wilderness — that is, the season of house life. By 
 this phrase, however, is not meant a life of indoor 
 indolence. In winter, not less than summer, the 
 great end sought after is to breathe all the pure air 
 
WINTERING IN THE WILDERNESS. 75 
 
 possible, and to keep out-of-doors as much of the 
 time as the condition of the patient. warrants. 
 
 Saranac Lake, which is something of a town for 
 the backwoods, and which lies on the Saranac River, 
 about thirteen miles from "Paul" Smith's, and six 
 from Bloomingdale, has heretofore been the point 
 to which invalids remaining through the winter 
 have turned most often. It may be explained that 
 Saranac Lake is here applied not to the body of 
 water bearing that name, but to the post-office ; and 
 the post-office, with the aid of weak lungs, has re- 
 sulted in building up a diminutive village. A few 
 of the winter health-seekers have remained at the St. 
 Regis Lake House, whenever that comfortable inn 
 has been kept open. During the past winter the 
 house was closed to boarders. This sent the majority 
 of invalids to Saranac. The writer, for reasons 
 which will hereafter be explained, preferred to take 
 up his abode in the town of Brighton, Franklin 
 County, on the main road which leads from Bloom- 
 ingdale to " Paul " Smith's. So far as the climatic 
 benefits are concerned, it is really a matter of no 
 consequence whether the invalid spends the winter 
 at St. Regis Lake, Bloomingdale, or Saranac. I 
 should not presume to make this statement except on 
 the authority of a physician who has passed a num- 
 ber of winters in the immediate neighborhood re- 
 ferred to, and whose opinion is entitled to the high- 
 est respect. 
 
 To those who depend largely upon society for re- 
 creation, and who are without other resources of con- 
 
76 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 tentment, Saranac Lake may be recommended as tlie 
 most desirable spot in which, to pass the winter. 
 Not that the village offers other than a very mild 
 type of excitement, but in the backwoods we must 
 measure attractions in a liberal spirit. By chance, 
 or otherwise, Dr. Trudeau hit upon the village as the 
 place for spending his first winter in the wilderness, 
 and since that time many others have followed his 
 example. The result is that a comfortable boarding- 
 house, known as the Berkley, has been fitted up with 
 a special view to the accommodation of invalids. 
 There are also a number of smaller houses where 
 good board may be obtained at reasonable rates. 
 The Saranac Lake House, called by everybody here 
 Martin's, stands at the northern extremity of the lit- 
 tle lake of the same name, a mile or so from the vil- 
 lage. Next to " Paul " Smith's, Martin's is perhaps 
 the best-known inn anywhere in the wilderness. It 
 has not, I believe, heretofore been kept open through 
 the winter, but board could probably be obtained there 
 if one chose to apply for it. Saranac gets its daily 
 mail, enjoys telegraphic communication, and is con- 
 nected by stage with Elizabethtown, as well as Au- 
 sable Forks. Besides these advantages, a sufficient 
 number of health-seekers were to be found there last 
 winter to constitute a little social coterie. There is an 
 Episcopal church, regularly supplied with a clergy- 
 man, while the Methodists worship in the school- 
 house. The post-office holds its treasures in a store, 
 where letters and groceries are meted out together. 
 What to others would perhaps seem an attraction, 
 
WINTERING IN THE WILDERNESS. 77 
 
 to the writer appeared as the one drawback in con- 
 nection with Saranac. It was to rid himself of the 
 companionship of other invalids, agreeable as that 
 companionship might be, invalidism apart, that he 
 avoided the place of more common resort, and found 
 a winter home with a farmer-guide in Brighton. 
 
 If the camp life of an invalid is of necessity some- 
 what monotonous, his winter life in these woods must 
 be even more so. And yet there is so much to com- 
 pensate for the self-imposed exile, that the winter, to 
 my thinking, is fraught with greater charms than the 
 summer. Others, I know, will not agree with me in 
 this respect ; but all who make the experiment will 
 surely discover that wintering in the wilderness is a 
 far pleasanter process of cure than they pictured it 
 in fancy. A measure of monotony is conceded ; but 
 monotony is productive of a methodical manner of 
 life — of regularity of habits which the doctors praise 
 and all the sage saws of the world seek to inculcate. 
 I am forced to admit that the first winter I spent in 
 the Adirondacks failed miserably to sustain its repu- 
 tation for evenness of temperature and extreme cold. 
 This, however, must be attributed to the exceptional 
 character of that season the country over. As a rule, 
 the winter months here will be found dry, bracing, 
 and remarkably free from thaws. As a rule, also, to 
 which the winter of 1879-80 afforded a striking ex- 
 ception, snow falls in great abundance, and three or 
 four months of continuous sleighing are counted upon 
 with certainty. In spite of its unusual mildness, the 
 winter we spent in the woods serves to illustrate 
 
78 THE WILDEKNESS OUEE. 
 
 what the cold season in the Adirondacks can do to- 
 ward strengthening weak lungs. 
 
 It was early enough, certainly, when the wilderness 
 first put on its winter robes. We broke camp in a 
 snow-storm on November 3d, and the backwoods sov- 
 ereigns, who were called upon the next day to exer- 
 cise their glorious right of suffrage, drove to the polls 
 in cutters and bob-sleds. But this premature prom- 
 ise of winter's arrival had melted completely away, 
 even before the hopes of many a beaten candidate 
 were extinguished in his heart. November gave us 
 scarcely a taste after that of genuine winter. Through- 
 out December there were some bright, clear days 
 scattered at intervals ; in January we saw the ther- 
 mometer once or twice mark a temperature of twen- 
 ty-five degrees below zero, although the month, as a 
 whole, was unreasonably warm ; while in February, 
 bringing, as it did, more snow than the resident of New 
 York City is likely often to see, there were times when 
 the mercury got up to preposterously high figures, 
 standing in the sun, once at least, above sixty. Thaws 
 were unpleasantly frequent, and although taken as a 
 whole, there were many days of excellent sleighing, 
 this was so often interrupted that a carriage was more 
 serviceable on many occasions than a sleigh. Still, 
 in spite of these unexpected drawbacks, the climate 
 continued to work an improvement in the writer's 
 condition. Neither did the sudden and often extreme 
 changes in the temperature produce any of those ill 
 effects which almost invariably follow in other re- 
 gions. "With a jump of the mercury from twenty- 
 
WINTERING IN THE WILDERNESS. 79 
 
 five degrees below zero to fifty degrees above, in 
 twenty-four hours' time, exposure to the out-of-door 
 air was attended with no bad results. The capacity 
 of the soil to absorb all surface moisture, even in 
 midwinter, is certainly astonishing. The atmosphere, 
 too, seems absolutely free from dampness, even while 
 the snow is melting under one's feet. In short, if 
 steady and decided improvement could be made un- 
 der the exceptionally unfavorable conditions of the 
 winter in question, then ordinarily the cold season in 
 the Adirondacks must prove highly beneficial to weak 
 lungs. 
 
 In sketching briefly the manner of life here in 
 winter, the writer must draw chiefly upon his own 
 experience. If others, like him, should regard it as 
 desirable to search out a private boarding-place, it 
 will be by no means difficult to accomplish that end. 
 Along the main road, between Bloomingdale and St. 
 Regis Lake, are scattered numerous farm-houses, in 
 almost any one of which comfortable accommodation 
 could probably be had. The village of Blooming- 
 dale itself contains a good-sized inn and several 
 dwellings of more pretentious appearance than those 
 on the road. There are two or three stores in the 
 place, a telegraph station, post-office, public school, 
 and church. Certain advantages are gained if one 
 prefers the seclusion of a private house by living on 
 the stage road, although pleasant quarters can, no 
 doubt, be found in many of the more remote houses. 
 If the means of recreation through the winter months 
 are limited, they may still serve to prevent the time 
 
80 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 from hanging heavily on the invalid's hands. In the 
 bright, clear, sunshiny days — and a good many of 
 these may be counted upon in the course of the sea- 
 son — it will be the first duty of the patient to keep 
 as much out of doors as is practicable. If his strength 
 justifies him in taking moderate bodily exercise, lie 
 may walk over the roads with a scene before his 
 eyes grander than was ever yet put on canvas ; or he 
 may strike across lots through the woods on a pair of 
 snow-shoes, which barbarous contrivances are here 
 indicative of civilization ; or he may hunt rabbits ; 
 and if he knows how to use his gun, he may be sure 
 of plenty of this lively gan^e. Should he be still too 
 weak to safely indulge in these more violent exer- 
 cises, he may ride out instead, and thereby secure 
 to himself the benefit of the bracing air without 
 the slightest fear of taking cold. The majority of 
 the year-round inhabitants own horses, and it is not 
 therefore difficult to obtain some sort of turnout. 
 The writer found riding a more congenial form of 
 exercise than any other, and made it a point to go 
 out at least once a day, except in extremely stormy 
 weather. It may not be out of place in this connec- 
 tion to recommend the purchase of a buffalo-skin 
 overcoat as by far the most suitable garment for 
 winter wear in the wilderness. These coats are in- 
 expensive, durable, and the only things that have 
 been discovered warm enough to protect a person 
 riding against the cutting winds that sweep across 
 this country. 
 
 It may not fall to the lot of all others to secure so 
 
WINTERING IN THE WILDERNESS. 81 
 
 home-like and comfortable a boarding-place as did 
 the writer, but it is safe to say that the health-seeker 
 will be well provided for in his wilderness abode. 
 In the matter of food, the resources of the country 
 are naturally less rich in winter than summer. After 
 the first of December few if any trout are taken, 
 nor should there be. The period in which deer may 
 legally be killed expires now in this State the first of 
 December, I believe. At all events, venison is a 
 pretty juiceless meat in midwinter, and very little of 
 it is offered for sale in the St. Regis region. Par- 
 tridges string along until January, but they lose in 
 plumpness and flavor, and are by no means abundant. 
 Cutting off thus trout, deer, and birds, the domestic 
 menu of the woods reduces itself chiefly to pork and 
 potatoes. This diet hardly meets the wants of the 
 consumptive patient, but he will find that those who 
 make a business of taking boarders will not expect 
 3iim to subsist thereon. Our own table, which was set 
 distinct from that of the household, was liberally sup- 
 plied with beef, mutton, chickens, winter and canned 
 vegetables, eggs, excellent bread, fresh butter, and 
 milk. It is pleasant to speak in praise of the cook- 
 ing of the Adirondack housewife, and if the expe- 
 rience of others coincides with the writer's, such 
 praise will be happily justified. One thing, how- 
 ever, cannot share in the smallest measure in this 
 otherwise complimentary report. If there be any- 
 thing poorer in the way of meat than the average 
 Adirondack beef, then most of us, I hope, have yet 
 to discover it. It is tough, dry, and tasteless. If it 
 
82 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 has any mission in the world, it is to teach resigna- 
 tion, while it strengthens the muscles of the jaw. 
 This unvarnished truth applies equally to all beef 
 raised and slaughtered here. Even at the best of 
 the hotels the best of their beef would surely be 
 criticized in a fifteen-cent city restaurant. The fault 
 is in the country, rather than in the people ; and the 
 deficiency can only be supplied by having good beef 
 sent on from some point where good beef is to be 
 had. I speak thus particularly of this matter be- 
 cause of the large dependence which the physicians 
 place upon nourishing beef in the diet of the con- 
 sumptive patient. For any other delicacies it will 
 also be necessary to look to the city markets ; but 
 barring the beef, a wholesome and nutritious diet 
 will be found in the winter boarding-house. 
 
 With pleasant indoor accommodations, an excel- 
 lent table, a daily drive of two or three hours, an 
 occasional jaunt on foot, plenty of books and news- 
 papers, and the cheering consciousness of steady 
 progress toward recovery, the winter life of the in- 
 valid in this remote wilderness may, after all, be 
 counted an endurable one. If the first week or two 
 after the breaking-up of camp should be followed by 
 some return of the bad symptoms, it need cause no 
 alarm. As a rule, after sleeping three or four 
 months in a tent, any room, however well ventilated, 
 will seem close and stifling. The lungs, long accus- 
 tomed to the absolute purity of the tent air, become 
 acutely sensitive to whatever is vitiated or foul. As 
 a matter of fact, the atmosphere of a well-lighted, 
 
WINTERING IN THE WILDERNESS. 83 
 
 properly ventilated room in one of these wilderness 
 houses is incomparably purer than the most imposing 
 apartment in the finest city residence. While, there- 
 fore, the change from the tent to the bedroom may 
 here be accompanied with some unpleasant effects, it 
 is quite certain that this change will be far less per- 
 ceptible than would the sudden transition from the 
 wilderness house to the city home. 
 
 Among the writer's friends who shook their heads 
 ominously over the idea of sending a sick man into 
 the bleak woods to pass a winter, it was a common 
 argument that if a person was compelled to spend 
 the greater portion of the time in-doors, why not re- 
 main at home where in-door life would certainly be 
 more attractive ? These kindly advisers forget that 
 the air within doors can never be purer than that 
 outside. It may, and perhaps of necessity must, be 
 less pure. If, then, the air is bad without, it will be 
 the same air made worse within ; while if pure with- 
 out, it will be by so much the purer in-doors. In a 
 word, there is no special atmosphere manufactured 
 for house use. Shut up in a room in Water street, 
 a person must breathe Water street air ; housed in 
 the wilderness, he still inhales none other than wil- 
 derness air. And with no noxious odors, no defec- 
 tive drains or gas-pipes, no miserable furnaces, no 
 double windows to shut out the oxygen — with none 
 of these abominations, but in place thereof, cheery 
 wood-fires, open chimney-places, and a surrounding 
 atmosphere of absolute purity, it must be admitted 
 that in-door life in the Adirondacks gives the lungs 
 
84 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 something very different from the air of the average 
 city house. 
 
 The wilderness winter, as a rule, lingers so long 
 in the lap of spring that he leaves very little of the 
 calendar to be reigned over by the balmier season. 
 Often the sleighing stretches far into April, and the 
 ice in the lakes has been known to remain until the 
 10th of May. This makes June very like a Long 
 Island April. Happily, however, the transition from 
 winter to spring is attended with very few, if any, of 
 those sudden changes which are apt to prove so try- 
 ing to weak lungs in places like New York and Bos- 
 ton. And this adds another to the many virtues of 
 the Adirondack region, the more conspicuous because 
 it is possessed by so few of the health resorts. Even 
 our Davos enthusiast admits that the Alpine village 
 should be deserted by the invalid with the first ap- 
 proach of spring. Here, all seasons seem to afford 
 more or less benefit to the consumptive. Pie is not 
 forced to fly at the approach of spring or to inter- 
 rupt the slow processes of nature with the coming of 
 the winter. To all who may be induced to try the 
 wilderness experiment, the writer would say, and say 
 most earnestly, that the winter residence is quite as 
 essential as the camp life through the warmer months. 
 Even if the latter fails to accomplish any perceptible 
 good in the patient's condition, let him still hold fast 
 to his faith in the cold-weather theory. The danger 
 is, that either discouraged at the absence of the re- 
 sults expected, or, in more fortunate cases, made too 
 confident by a speedy progress toward recovery, the 
 
WINTERING IN THE WILDERNESS. 85 
 
 invalid yields to a natural desire to return to home 
 and kindred or to those pursuits which he fancies he 
 is strong enough to follow, and so puts an end to the 
 experiment before he has given it half a trial. An 
 active, energetic man may look upon a year's banish- 
 ment from the field of his labors as too hard a sen- 
 tence ; but a shorter sojourn than that, where pul- 
 monary disease has taken any firm hold on its victim, 
 will fail to give the wilderness cure a reasonable test- 
 It must be winter as well as summer — perhaps two 
 or three winters and two or three summers. A long 
 game — but the stakes are high. 
 
CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 THE YEAR-ROUND INHABITANTS. 
 
 Mr. Richard Grant White has somewhere put 
 on record that, to his thinking, " there is nothing in 
 the world more charming than simple, unpretending 
 ignorance, nothing more respectable, nothing surer 
 to elicit sympathy from healthy minds." If this use 
 of words be not an abuse, then to find what is su- 
 premely charming, overwhelmingly respectable, and 
 superlatively deserving of sympathy Mr. White and 
 the rest of the world should come up here and min- 
 gle with the native inhabitants. 
 
 To the year-round resident of the wilderness the 
 world is bounded by Canada on the north, Platts- 
 burg on the east, Boonville on the south, and Ma- 
 lone on the west. All that lies beyond this clearly 
 defined territory is dim, shadowy, and uncertain. 
 The end and aim of life is to " guide " in summer, 
 and " log " in winter. Nowhere else on the face of 
 the earth is it so easy to divide all people into classes 
 at once so distinct and comprehensive. Every man 
 must come under one of the two heads — he must be 
 either a guide or a sportsman. For the qualifications 
 of the latter, anything like previous training is un- 
 
THE YEAR-KOTTND INHABITANTS. 87 
 
 necessary. The writer freely confesses that before he 
 came into the St. Regis country he had never to his 
 knowledge, shot off a gun in his life, except possibly 
 the air-guns that are sometimes made a tributary 
 means of revenue in church fairs ; he had never cast 
 a fly, nor jointed a rod, nor told a fish story — inten- 
 tionally, at any rate — he had never seen a deer save 
 those in Central Park, while the few " strikes " he 
 ever made on speckled trout were confined exclu- 
 sively to Fulton Market. And yet — the assertion is 
 made with a full sense of the responsibility that may 
 hereafter attach thereto — and yet he was not fairly 
 in the wilderness before he made the startling dis- 
 covery that he was a "sportsman." So much for 
 one of the grand divisions of mankind as found in 
 the St. Regis country. The other is far more unique 
 and interesting. 
 
 To begin with, the nationality of these backwoods- 
 men is a mixed problem. French blood mingles in 
 at least equal proportions with American, and proba- 
 bly nine-tenths of all the people are descended more 
 or less directly from Canadian ancestors. The French 
 of Canada is not exactly the French of Paris, but it 
 may be said to bear about the same relation to the 
 latter that the sardine does to the herring. Ichthyo- 
 logists classify these fishes under the same family 
 head, but it is not very difficult to distinguish be- 
 tween them. Here in the immediate St. Regis Lake 
 region a large proportion of the inhabitants speak 
 Canadian French with at least as much facility as 
 they speak English. The vastness of the country, 
 
OO THE WILDERNESS CUEE. 
 
 as compared with the population, has led to such a 
 complex intermarrying that pretty nearly everybody 
 is either the aunt or uncle or cousin of everybody 
 else. If the soil yields but a sorry harvest of grain, 
 it seems at least adapted to the production of large 
 families. A dozen children and sometimes a score 
 grow to robust maturity in spite of all hardship and 
 privation. That the life of these people is a hard 
 one — that the privations they are called upon to en- 
 dure are such as would drive away a less hardy or 
 stubborn race — is not to be denied. The few acres 
 of land that have been cleared and cultivated return 
 at best but a meagre harvest for the most unremit- 
 ting toil. Through the long winter the one industry 
 which offers employment is the chopping and draw- 
 ing of logs. Many a man is glad to swing an axe 
 ten hours out of the twenty-four for seventy-five cents 
 wages. Ready money is always scarce and always 
 hoarded. Young and old live principally on pork 
 and potatoes, with now and then a soup of dry beans 
 or peas. Sheep thrive here fairly well, but the mut- 
 ton is, as a rule, regarded too valuable a product to 
 be used for food. The wife of the backwoodsman 
 works even more untiringly than her husband, and in 
 the absence of the latter often does unaided the 
 drudgery which should be assigned only to men. 
 
 But there comes a genial ray of sunlight into the 
 wilderness with the advent of the sportsmen. It is 
 then that every man and boy is ready to offer his 
 services as a guide. The guide does not grow. He 
 bears a striking resemblance to the city barber in 
 
THE YEAR-ROUND INHABITANTS. 89 
 
 that he never serves an apprenticeship. The world, 
 or at least as much of it as is shaved, long ago dis- 
 covered that the barber-shop never existed which 
 employed other than experienced " artists." It fol- 
 lows, therefore, that the barber, full-fledged, springs 
 up in the night or else drops from the skies, razor in 
 hand, and the praises of the best hair tonic in the 
 world on his lips. Similarly comes the Adirondack 
 guide into this barren world. He rolls, so to speak, 
 out of his log cradle into a pair of top boots, dis- 
 cards the bottle for a plug of tobacco, possesses 
 himself of a boat and a jackknife, and becomes 
 forthwith an experienced guide. His duties are 
 multifarious. He pulls a steady if not exactly scien- 
 tific oar ; he carries his boat on his shoulders from 
 one mountain pond to another, often a distance of 
 two or three miles ; he conducts you to the spot 
 where deer ought to be, and where sometimes they 
 are ; he fishes for you if you don't know how to fish 
 for yourself, and breaks your new fly-rod with per- 
 fect good humor; if in camp, he cooks and chops 
 wood and forecasts the weather with an unvarying 
 inaccuracy which would discourage the most hopeful 
 of meteorological prophets. It would never do to 
 assert that the Adirondack guide is constitutionally 
 lazy after thus particularizing his labors. True, he is 
 forced to drag through seven or eight months of the 
 year in waiting for the other four or five months to 
 come around ; but that is not his fault. Nor is this 
 period of waiting by any means one of idle ease. 
 The winter work is far more laborious and much 
 
90 THE WILDEENESS CTJEE. 
 
 less profitable than the summer guiding. Many of 
 the men spend a good part of the cold season in a 
 logger's camp, as it is called, and that is a kind of 
 camp which offers very few attractions. It implies 
 steady chopping from sunrise to sunset, exposure to 
 the coldest weather, coarse fare, small wages, and no 
 pleasanter recreation than a pipeful of tobacco in the 
 evening. Harder even than the cutting, ' c skidding" 
 (which means piling), or drawing of logs, is the driv- 
 ing of them down the rivers in the spring. The 
 drivers are often drenched with water or half frozen 
 by cold ; and they run no inconsiderable risk of los- 
 ing life or limb. The work pays better, however, 
 than any other branch of the lumberman's calling. 
 
 Besides the severity of the winter work here, 
 there is frequently no job to be had even at the 
 small wages demanded. Last winter, for example, 
 the lack of sleighing, without which the drawing of 
 logs cannot be undertaken, shut out many men from 
 the chance of earning a few needed dollars. Were 
 it not that the cost of living is reduced to its mini- 
 mum, the less thrifty inhabitants would be driven to 
 sorry straits. Many of them are poor enough, as it 
 is ; but there is none of that acute suffering from 
 poverty which is to be found in the cities. Oddly 
 enough, the want of money here, while it may en- 
 hance its value as a personal possession, seems to give 
 to the native a supreme indifference for the wealth of 
 others. This wealth may have its existence wholly 
 in the imagination, as much of it indeed does ; but 
 that is of small matter so long as the stock of imag- 
 
THE YEAR-ROUND INHABITANTS. 91 
 
 ination holds out. The Adirondack guide, whose 
 uncertain income seldom reaches five hundred dollars 
 a year, will talk to you of millions with the refresh- 
 ing assurance of Colonel Sellers. He sets every man 
 down as rich who comes into the wilderness unpur- 
 sued by a deputy-sheriff. He believes that eveiy 
 man is a sportsman because he is rich, and that he is 
 rich because he is a sportsman, and that he is both 
 because he is not a St. Regis guide. There you have 
 the pith of backwoods logic in a nutshell. 
 
 The crossing of nationalities — the uncommon con- 
 genital mixture of a French peasant and a Yankee 
 backwoodsman — gives rise to some curious combina- 
 tions in names. You may find the thoroughly Anglo- 
 Saxon James, John, and Henry, flanked by such sur- 
 names as St. Germain, La Bountie and Bobal. Y T ou 
 may have your faith in philology sadly shaken by the 
 discovery that Mitchell Sweeney is a Frenchman, and 
 that Mrs. Stephen Otis cannot speak English. It is 
 a noteworthy fact that almost without exception the 
 French residents give no hint of their nationality in 
 speaking English. It may not be very pure English, 
 but it is certainly freer from provincialisms and infi- 
 nitely better in its pronunciation than is the speech 
 of the average rural New Englander. 
 
 This wilderness must be set down as a spot which 
 puts greatness to a terribly severe test, and extin- 
 guishes notoriety with a beautiful simplicity. Edison's 
 name is unknown, and the thrifty housewife who 
 told me that she thought she remembered vaguely 
 of having once heard of Henry "Ward Beecher, 
 
92 THE WILDEENESS CUEE. 
 
 compelled an indescribable admiration. The late 
 Yice-President of the United States secure his claim 
 to recognition, not because of the office he held, but 
 because he lived in Malone. John Brown is not here 
 the martyr to a great cause, but the man who bought 
 a big tract of land in North Elba. I remember, at 
 the time when the tempest-tossed bones of the late 
 A. T. Stewart were rattled afresh in the public ears, 
 Joshua La Fontaine came over to camp one day on a 
 friendly visit. We fell to talking together, and I 
 drew out some curious confessions from Joshua. He 
 had lived the thirty-five years of his life wholly in 
 the woods. He had never visited a city, nor even 
 a village ; never had ridden on a railway, nor seen a 
 steam engine ; never had been to a circus nor to 
 school ; was in doubt as to whether Plattsburg was 
 a bigger place than New York ; and was profoundly 
 impressed by the statement that the earth is round 
 and not flat. The mention of Plattsburg suggested 
 the Stewart case for the double reason that, in the 
 correspondence printed a few days before, that town 
 had incidentally figured, and also because Plattsburg 
 was reasonably to be considered within Joshua's geo- 
 graphical grasp. 
 
 " They seem to have found out where Stewart's 
 body is, at last," said I, taking up the newspaper 
 which contained the report. 
 
 " Yer don't say so ? " said Joshua, evincing at 
 once the keenest interest in the subject. 
 
 " Yes ; and, according to the story here, it passed 
 through Plattsburg on its way to Montreal." 
 
THE YEAR-ROUND INHABITANTS. 93 
 
 "My land o' the livin', now, who'd a thought 
 that?" rejoined Joshua, gazing meditatively at the 
 back of his left hand while he worked the ringers as 
 if to test their joints* 
 
 "If what the paper says is true, Judge Hilton can 
 get the remains by the payment of two hundred and 
 fifty thousand dollars." 
 
 " He ken, ken he ? "Wall, now, I'll be chewed ! " 
 
 " Yes ; the thieves sent on the silver plate and 
 the piece of coffin-lining that was cut out, so there 
 can be no question about identity." 
 
 " Jes'so ! And the Jedge ken git 'em for two 
 hundred and fifty-thousand dollars ? " 
 
 " That's the sum. Seems pretty big, doesn't it — 
 but there's money enough back, you know." 
 
 " Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars ! " repeat- 
 ed Joshua, still studying with profound interest the 
 back of his hand. " Wall, now, I'd never athought 
 old Stewart left as much as that behind him ! " 
 
 " Why, bless your soul, he left probably a hundred 
 times that sum ! " 
 
 " Old Jeems Stewart did ? " 
 
 " Jeems ? His name wasn't Jeems — it was Alex- 
 ander—A. T. Stewart," 
 
 There was dead silence for half a minute, and then 
 Joshua, finishing the inspection of his last knuckle, 
 remarked : 
 
 " I thought yer was talking about Jeems Stewart 
 who bought that thar mill up at Keeseville. I guess 
 I never beared of this other one — Alexander B., did 
 you say ? " 
 
94 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 " T.," I murmured faintly. And there ended my 
 effort to discuss affairs of the day with Joshua La 
 Fontaine. 
 
 Under this surface of calm indifference to all that 
 is passing in the great world outside, there is a solid 
 basis of content. Without this the Adirondack back- 
 woodsman would be impossible. His ignorance, after 
 all, is superficial; his wisdom is deep-rooted and 
 practical. He may not be able to write his name, 
 but he can read with unerring accuracy the chirog- 
 raphy of nature. He may not know his letters, but 
 he never trips on the alphabet of forest lore. He 
 finds himself born to a lot of privation and hardship. 
 Instead of repining over this, or vainly coveting the 
 fortune of the more prosperous, he sets to work man- 
 fully to make the best of his surroundings. In an 
 exceptional degree he is thrifty, saving, and indus- 
 trious. Not a few of the men in the St. Regis 
 country have, by the dint of unflagging toil, amassed 
 a competence. They recognize, apparently by some 
 intuitive wisdom, that while the lines of their life 
 here are not cast in easy places, still it is here that 
 they can best fight the battle for bread. They have 
 no desire to throw themselves into the vortex of city 
 life, nor are they often led away by the ignis fatuus 
 of the indefinite West. In this respect, and especially 
 among the young men, the prevailing characteristic 
 of the year-round inhabitant is peculiar. In almost 
 every farming region, the dream of the younger gen- 
 eration is to break loose from home moorings, and 
 cast their fortune upon the untried sea of the world 
 
THE YEAR-ROUND INHABITANTS. 95 
 
 outside. Here, on the contrary, this ambition for 
 a larger field of action — this craving to see and know 
 something of the busy world we inhabit — seems to 
 be utterly lacking. If content be indeed another 
 name for happiness, the dwellers in the wilderness 
 ought to be supremely happy. The green earth over, 
 there certainly could be found no better spot in which 
 temporarily to plant a college sophomore or a rural 
 Congressman. The small vanities and pretensions 
 of a man will be taken out of him here with much 
 the same jerky suddenness that a fish is taken out of 
 the water. Tie may be great in a town, great in a 
 State, great even in a nation ; he will be small as a 
 midge here unless he can cast a scientific fly, or hit a 
 buck at a hundred yards. 
 
 Hard-working, truthful, sober, book-ignorant, na- 
 ture-wise — this is the general character of these back- 
 woods dwellers. And yet you cannot bunch these 
 men and label them with any one ticket. Here, as 
 elsewhere, the good and the bad may be found ; and 
 under a crust of laziness and saleratus I have dis- 
 covered many a brave, patient, and heroic nature — 
 men like the trees they have grown up among, sturdy 
 and upright as the grand old pine, yet as f nil of the 
 juices of humanity as the maple is full of sap in 
 spring. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DK. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 
 
 To Prof essor Alfred L. Loomis, of New York City, 
 belongs, in a very large degree, the honor of awaken- 
 ing in the medical profession a lively interest in the 
 curative powers of the Adirondacks. A paper of his 
 on this subject was read before The Medical Society 
 of the State of New York in 1879, and afterward 
 printed in the Medical Record. That paper must 
 stand as the excuse for this little book. Not only 
 in New York, but all over the country, the doctors 
 evinced a sudden enthusiasm respecting the Adi- 
 rondacks that was obviously kindled by Dr. Loomis- s 
 torch. Limited as is the writer's own circle of ac- 
 quaintance, he has been besieged in his wilderness 
 retreat by letters of inquiry from those seeking the 
 facts this volume is designed to furnish. Among 
 other things wanted was Dr. Loomis's paper. Ap- 
 pearing as it did in a strictly technical journal, it 
 could not, of course, reach the mass of unprofessional 
 readers. That is why it has been thought well to in- 
 clude it in this book. 
 
 The writer hastens to add that the distinguished 
 medical professor is not only not responsible for this 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 97 
 
 republication of his essay, but he is ignorant even of 
 its appropriation. Furthermore, the writer does not 
 enjoy a personal acquaintance with Dr. Loomis. If 
 he did, this public apology might not be called for. 
 As it is, he sincerely hopes that the use of this ma- 
 terial will not seem a misappropriation. 
 
 The article is given entire. All attempts to con- 
 dense or abbreviate a purely technical article, written 
 by a physician, are usually worse than vain. They 
 are apt to do the medical author a positive injury. 
 This was abundantly proved in the only newspaper 
 extract of Dr. Loomis's paper which the writer has 
 seen. Apart from that, although designed for pro- 
 fessional ears, there is not a word in Dr. Loomis's 
 report which will not be read with keen interest by 
 every sufferer from phthisical disease. 
 
 Dr. Loomis's Address. 
 Mr. President and Gentlemen of the State Medical 
 Society: — I invite your attention to the Adirondack 
 region as a therapeutical agent in the treatment of 
 pulmonary phthisis. I have long been convinced that 
 the most important factor in the successful manage- 
 ment of pulmonary phthisis is to be found in climate. 
 It seems to me that at the present time no subject of 
 medical study is more deserving of attention than 
 the climatic treatment of disease, yet to a student of 
 the medical literature of to-day there is none more 
 confusing and unsatisfactory. Some localities have 
 been considered especially favorable on account of 
 their equability of temperature, others on account of 
 5 
 
98 THE WILDERNESS CTTKE. 
 
 their luxurious vegetation or their peculiarity of soil ; 
 some on account of the dryness, others on account of 
 the humidity of the atmosphere, From the data 
 given, widely differing conclusions have been reached 
 by different observers. In regard to the localities 
 which are claimed to be especially adapted to the 
 treatment of pulmonary phthisis, few writers have 
 carefully observed, for any considerable length of 
 time, the effect of the climate upon individual cases, 
 or, if they have so observed, they have not made 
 public the result of such observations ; and on this ac- 
 count very definite conclusions as to the relative merits 
 of the different localities have never been reached. 
 
 In the preparation of this paper, my object has 
 been to show the effect of the climate of the Adi- 
 rondack region upon all the cases of well-developed 
 phthisis which, under my observation, have given the 
 region an extended trial. I am largely indebted for 
 facts given, and the history of cases, to my friend Dr. 
 Edward L. Trudeau, who, with a phthisical invalid, 
 took up his residence in this region five years ago. 
 
 By way of explanation, I would state that clinic- 
 ally and pathologically I recognize three varieties of 
 pulmonary phthisis, viz., catarrhal phthisis, fibrous 
 phthisis, and tubercular phthisis. 
 
 In catarrhal phthisis, the primary changes are in 
 the cavities of the alveoli and bronchi, and are epi- 
 thelial and cellular in their nature. 
 
 In. fibrous phthisis, the primary changes occur in 
 the bronchial and alveolar connective-tissue, and are 
 connective-tissue hyperplasias. 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 99 
 
 In tubercular phthisis, the primary changes occur 
 in the lymphoid elements of the lung, associated with 
 connective- tissue hyperplasias forming little masses 
 or nodules, which ordinarily are termed tubercles. 
 The development of tubercle in a lung may be pre- 
 ceded or accompanied by an alveolar cellular process, 
 or by a connective-tissue hyperplasia, and as the one 
 or the other predominates, so is the duration of the 
 case long or short. 
 
 In the later stages of these different varieties of 
 phthisis, it is always difficult, and sometimes impos- 
 sible, to distinguish the one from the other ; but in 
 the earlier stages, in most cases, the differential diag- 
 nosis can readily be made. 
 
 The peculiar clinical feature of catarrhal phthisis 
 is, that at the onset the local symptoms are well 
 marked and precede or accompany the constitutional. 
 The local signs may be those of pneumonia or of 
 localized bronchitis of the small tubes, while the 
 peculiar clinical feature of tubercular phthisis is, that 
 at the onset of the disease there are few local signs, 
 while the constitutional disturbance is very marked. 
 
 Fibrous phthisis is distinguished from all other 
 forms by its greater chronicity. Usually it commences 
 as a chronic affection, coming on very insidiously. 
 Its chief clinical feature is, that its development is 
 preceded by a chronic bronchitis or pleurisy limited 
 to one lung, or perhaps an unresolved pneumonia. 
 In rare instances, it is developed in the course of some 
 constitutional disease — as syphilis, gout, etc. 
 
 These three varieties of pulmonary phthisis not 
 
100 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 only differ in their origin, mode of development, 
 progress and termination, but necessarily they require 
 different plans of treatment, and are differently af- 
 fected by climate. 
 
 To rightly estimate the effect of the climate of any 
 place or region, it is absolutely necessary that we be 
 able to determine what variety of phthisis it is that 
 is cured or arrested in that locality. Frequently, in- 
 dividuals with catarrhal phthisis will do badly at an 
 altitude at which those with fibrous phthisis will be 
 benefited. Besides, in determining the locality in 
 which phthisical developments will be most likely to 
 be arrested, we must take into account the age and 
 general condition of the individual. Tgr instance, 
 an enfeebled and broken down middle-aged phthisi- 
 cal subject does badly in a high mountain region, but 
 is benefited by the air of the sea. 
 
 The region known as the Adirondack region is com- 
 prised in that portion of our State which lies north 
 of the Mohawk and west of the Champlain Valley. 
 It may be said to include the counties of Clinton, 
 Franklin, Essex, Hamilton, with portions of adjoin- 
 ing counties, and has an area equal in extent to nearly 
 one-third of the State of New York. Within its 
 limits there is a plateau from 1,500 to 2,000 feet 
 above sea level, 150 miles in length (latitude), and 
 100 miles in breadth (longitude). On this plateau 
 there are more than two thousand square miles of 
 primitive forests, mostly evergreen, and many hun- 
 dred lakes and ponds. From the surface of this 
 plateau rise granitic mountain peaks more than five 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 101 
 
 thousand feet in height. The drainage of this table- 
 land is toward Lake Champlain on the east, the St. 
 Lawrence River on the northwest, and the Hudson 
 River on the south. Many of the streams which 
 flow in these different directions intercept each other, 
 and some of them, as well as the lakes, are navigable 
 for light canoes or boats. Occasionally there are 
 easy portages between these bodies of water, and 
 sometimes we meet with rapids or falls. I doubt 
 whether any region in this country furnishes to the 
 invalid or pleasure-seeker such a stimulus to out-of- 
 door life. 
 
 Mr. Verplanck Colvin, in the conclusion to his re- 
 port, published in 1874, on the Topographical Survey 
 of the Adirondack Wilderness, uses the following 
 words to express his enthusiasm — words which fitly 
 express the enthusiasm of many another one familiar 
 with this region : 
 
 "The Adirondack wilderness may be considered 
 the wonder and glory of New York. It is a vast 
 natural park, one immense and silent forest, curi- 
 ously and beautifully broken by the gleaming waters 
 of a myriad of lakes, between which rugged moun- 
 tain ranges rise as a sea of granite billows. At the 
 northeast the mountains culminate within an area of 
 some hundreds of square miles ; and here savage, 
 treeless peaks, towering above the timber line, crowd 
 one another, and, standing gloomily shoulder to 
 shoulder rear their rocky crests amid the frosty 
 clouds. The wild beasts may look forth from the 
 ledges on the mountain sides over unbroken wood- 
 
102 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 lands stretching beyond the reach of sight — beyond 
 the blue hazy ridges at the horizon. The voyager 
 by canoe beholds lakes in which these mountains and 
 wild forests are reflected like hi verted reality ; now 
 wondrous in their dark grandeur and solemnity; 
 now glorious in resplendent autumn color of pearly 
 beauty." 
 
 These words are the enthusiastic outbursts of one 
 who has a more accurate and comprehensive knowl- 
 edge of the topography of this region than has any 
 other man. 
 
 It is not surprising that in such a region the tired 
 worker and worn-out invalid find the rest and quiet 
 which is so powerful a restorer of health. Here, as I 
 have already intimated, there is every inducement for . 
 one to lead an out-of-door life ; the very surroundings 
 infuse new life into the feeble body, and one daily 
 grows stronger and stronger and feels better, scarcely 
 able to tell how or why. One condition which I 
 regard of the greatest importance in seeking a suitable 
 home for the phthisical invalid is here met with, viz. : 
 dryness of soil. 
 
 Undoubtedly a damp warm, as well as a damp cold, 
 climate acts unfavorably upon phthisical invalids, 
 but the peculiar dampness which acts most unfavor- 
 ably is not usually present in those localities where 
 there is the greatest rainfall, nor is it present because 
 large bodies of water are in close proximity, but it 
 mainly depends upon the nature of the soil. To 
 avoid this dampness, the soil should be porous and 
 sandy — a loose soil of sufficient porosity to permit the 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 103 
 
 rapid filtering of water from its surface, so that after 
 a heavy rainfall the surface will soon become dry. 
 All clay soil drains slowly and imperfectly, and the 
 peculiar dampness arises which acts so unfavorably 
 on phthisical invalids. Laennec states, that the 
 dampness arising from such a condition of soil is one 
 of the most certain developing causes of phthisis, and 
 he makes mention of a locality, having such a soil, in 
 which the dampness was so constant and of such a 
 character, that more than two-thirds of the resident 
 population died of phthisis. In determining the fit- 
 ness of a locality as a residence for phthisical invalids, 
 I have come to regard the external configuration and 
 conformation of the soil as of greater importance 
 than the amount of rainfall, or the relative moisture. 
 The climate of the Adirondack region may be con- 
 sidered a moist, cool climate. The rainfall is above 
 the average for other portions of the State, and may 
 be roughly estimated at fifty-five inches. The spring 
 is cool, and there is considerable rain until about the 
 middle of June. There is a dry period during the 
 summer, when little rain falls, and the days become 
 hot, while almost without an exception the nights are 
 cool, often cold, and heavy dews fall. There is rarely 
 at any time excessive heat, and during the warmest 
 weather there are but few nights, even in August, 
 when a blanket is not needed. My friend Dr. Tru- 
 deau, who has remained here summer and winter for 
 the past five years, makes the following statement : 
 " That he has never found the mercury above 87° 
 during the past six summers, and this high temper- 
 
104 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 atnre was only maintained for a few hours during 
 the afternoon. The air during the fall months, with 
 the exception of one or two long rain-storms, is bra- 
 cing and admirably suited to out-of-door life. During 
 the winter the cold is almost uninterrupted, no thaw- 
 ing of any consequence taking place before the month 
 of March. There is a preponderance of cloudy days 
 and snow-storms. The mercury, during January and 
 February, frequently for days at a time stands many 
 degrees below zero. As the cold weather usually con- 
 tinues until the end of March, the thawing takes 
 place quickly, and owing to the sieve-like nature of 
 the soil the snow disappears very rapidly, conse- 
 quently the change from winter to spring is soon ac- 
 complished. 
 
 There is no marked preponderance of clear days 
 at any season ; on the contrary, the sky, especially in 
 winter, is constantly overcast. This cool, cloudy 
 weather is a marked feature of this climate. The 
 altitude varies with the different localities ; but the 
 immense plateau which forms the lake region of the 
 Adirondacks is about eighteen hundred feet above 
 sea-level. The soil is very light and sandy, with 
 here and there rocks, but little or no clay. 
 
 There appears at first sight but little to induce one 
 to consider this locality as favorable for persons af- 
 fected with phthisis. Hitherto heat and cold and 
 absence of moisture, or an equable temperature, have 
 been regarded as necessary in order to favorable re- 
 sults in the treatment of phthisis ; but it has been 
 shown by trial that neither cold, nor heat, nor mois- 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTS Y. 105 % 
 
 ture, alone, are all-sufficient factors in guiding us to 
 a right understanding of the most favorable atmos- 
 pheric conditions for phthisical patients. In a written 
 communication to me, Dr. Trudeau also says : " High 
 mountains, the desert, and the open sea, have per- 
 haps given so far the best results in the treatment of 
 chronic chest disease ; and yet all these differ widely 
 except in one respect, namely, purity of atmosphere. 
 It is neither hot nor cold air, damp nor dry air, but 
 pure air which is necessary to diseased lungs. Many 
 conditions render the atmosphere of these mountains 
 perfectly pure. The elevation of this region, its 
 sandy soil, the undulating nature of the country, 
 which ensures perfect drainage ; the absence of culti- 
 vation, even of dwellings — all these conditions pre- 
 clude the presence of telluric or miasmatic poison, 
 and we have a purity of atmosphere unknown in 
 more settled districts. The forests of this region are 
 almost unbroken, stretching over the valleys, cover- 
 ing the mountains often to their very summit, and 
 extending in some directions for nearly a hundred 
 -miles, while innumerable lakes dot this elevated pla- 
 teau and give moisture to the air. That the atmos- 
 phere of such a region, especially when set in motion, 
 should, by its contact with myriads of tree-tops and 
 pine sheaves, become heavily laden with ozone is a 
 natural sequence. Whatever other properties this 
 gas may hereafter be found to possess, we know that 
 it is a powerful disinfectant and Nature's choice agent 
 for counteracting atmospheric impurities. This pro- 
 cess, which during the summer months is carried on 
 5* 
 
106 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 by all varieties of trees, during the winter months is 
 maintained by the evergreens, while the deciduous 
 trees are deprived of "their foliage. Pine, balsam, 
 spruce, and hemlock trees abound, and the air is 
 heavily laden with the resinous odors which they ex- 
 hale. An agent which it is universally admitted ex- 
 erts a most beneficial influence on diseased mucous 
 membranes is thus brought in contact with the air- 
 passages, while balsamics, which are also disinfect- 
 ants, purify the atmosphere, which is constantly im- 
 pregnated with them. Besides this, the air of the 
 wilderness is optically pure, noticeably free from dust 
 or visible particles of any kind. The invalid, there- 
 fore, is here surrounded by a zone of pure air, which 
 separates him, as it were, from the germ-pervaded 
 world, and his diseased lungs are supplied with a 
 specially vitalized and purified atmosphere, free from 
 germs and impurities of any kind, and laden with 
 the resinous exhalations of myriads of evergreens.'' 
 Though as yet but few phthisical invalids have 
 been induced to give the Adirondack region an ex- 
 tended trial, the good results obtained by those who 
 have remained there for any considerable length of 
 time are the strongest arguments in its favor. Dr. 
 Trudeau writes : " My own personal experience and 
 my personal observation of other phthisical invalids 
 lead me to say that any comparison of the relative 
 £;ood effects of the climate of St. Paul, Minn., or of the 
 South, with that of the Adirondack region, is decid- 
 edly in favor of the latter." In regard to camp life, 
 he writes : " Camping out, which is the peculiar fea- 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 107 
 
 ture of this place, if done in an intelligent manner, 
 from June to October, I consider an important and 
 beneficial measure in the treatment of phthisis; if 
 done carelessly, it is by no means free from risk. The 
 advantages gained by this mode of life are evident. 
 The phthisical invalid for four months, night and 
 day, lives out-of-doors, in a pure atmosphere ; he is 
 quiet, has perfect rest, plenty of good food (for 
 which this mode of life gives an amazing relish) ; he 
 has no opportunity to daily observe the effect upon 
 other phthisical invalids of the disease from which he 
 is suffering ; his surroundings are such that he can lie 
 down whenever standing fatigues him, can eat when- 
 ever he is hungry, sleep when exhausted, and dress 
 as suits his own comfort — all of which comforts the 
 requirements of society sometimes interfere with. 
 
 " All these things — the breathing of the pure air 
 of the wilderness, the perfect rest, the wholesome 
 food, and early hours — combine to make tent-life a 
 powerful weapon in combating this disease. 
 
 " Exposure in inclement weather, which this mode 
 of life at times renders almost unavoidable, is well 
 borne in this climate by phthisical invalids who stead- 
 ily live out of doors. During the past six years I 
 have never seen any evil results from this mode of 
 life ; but I have seen men in camp lose their cough 
 and gain in flesh while it rained daily, and in the 
 midst of occasional frosts and snow-storms." 
 
 Dr. Trudeau expresses himself strongly on this 
 point, having faithfully tried tent-life, and he adds : 
 " Many of the risks supposed to attend out-of-door 
 
108 THE WILDEENESS CUBE. 
 
 life exist only in the imagination of the timid ; " and 
 he believes that tent-life, and a return to the invigor- 
 ating, ont-of-door existence of the savage is Nature's 
 antidote for a disease which is almost an outgrowth 
 of civilization and its enervating influences. 
 
 To proceed to results obtained from a fair trial of 
 this region. 
 
 Case I. — Eleven years ago, in the summer of 1867, 
 as an invalid, I first visited this region. For several 
 months previous I had suffered from cough with 
 muco-purulent expectoration, loss of flesh and strength, 
 night-sweats, and other rational and physical signs 
 which attend incipient phthisical development. The 
 only survivor of a family, every member of which 
 (save, perhaps, one) had died of phthisis, I had come 
 to regard my case a critical one. A Southern trip had 
 not relieved, if it had not aggravated, my phthisical 
 symptoms. In this condition I went into this region 
 and into camp, and when, before the summer months 
 had passed, I came out of the Adirondack or north 
 woods free from cough, with an increase in weight 
 of about twenty pounds, with greater physical vigor 
 than I had known for years, I very naturally became 
 an enthusiast in regard to them. 
 
 My personal experience that summer convinced 
 me that there was something in the air of this region 
 especially adapted to diseased lungs ; that, if the 
 climate had no direct influence in arresting or pre- 
 venting phthisical developments, it certainly allayed 
 bronchial irritation, and the phthisical invalid soon 
 became able to spend the greater portion of his time 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 109 
 
 in the open air ; still more, his surroundings were 
 such that if a lover of nature or of sport, he neces- 
 sarily forgot himself, and thus was nature aided, and 
 vigor and health restored. 
 
 I would mention here that my personal experience, 
 as well as my experience since that time in regard to 
 its effect upon others, leads me to believe that, dur- 
 ing the warm season, a camp or tent-life is of the 
 greatest service to pulmonary invalids, if they are 
 not enfeebled. 
 
 From time to time, since that summer, eleven 
 years ago, I have sent phthisical invalids into this 
 region. At first I sent them only during the sum- 
 mer months, but I found that while temporary relief 
 was afforded, and in some instances marked improve- 
 ment took place, in cases of fully developed phthisis 
 the latter was not permanent, and although the win- 
 ter months might be spent at the South, yet before 
 another summer came around the disease progressed. 
 Not until 1873 was I able to persuade any phthisical 
 invalid to remain during the winter. The effect of 
 the winter climate on this invalid showed so marked- 
 ly the benefit to be derived from a winter's residence 
 in this region, that from that time, each winter, 
 others have been induced to remain. Fourteen re- 
 mained last winter. 
 
 A brief analysis of the cases which have been 
 under my own personal supervision, or that of Dr. 
 Trudeau, will, I think, enable us to reach some satis- 
 factory conclusions in regard to the therapeutical 
 effects of the climate of the Adirondack region. They 
 
110 THE WILDERNESS CTTEE. 
 
 are unselected cases, and the only cases of value, as 
 these are the only phthisical invalids who have re-* 
 mained in the region a sufficient length of time to 
 give the climate anything like a fair trial. 
 
 Case II. — Dr. E. L. T , aged twenty-five ; fam- 
 ily history good ; began to lose his health in the win- 
 ter of 1872. His symptoms were rapidly becoming 
 urgent ; he was examined by several physicians. Ex- 
 tensive consolidation at left apex was found, extend- 
 ing posteriorly nearly to angle of scapula ; on the 
 right side nothing was discovered save slight pleuritic 
 adhesions at the apex. 
 
 He was ordered South, but returned in the spring 
 in no way benefited. On the contrary, night-sweat- 
 ing had set in, and his fever was higher. In the 
 latter part of May he started for the Adirondacks, 
 the ride in the stage being accomplished on an im- 
 provised bed. His condition at this time was most 
 unpromising ; he had daily fever, night-sweats, pro- 
 fuse and purulent expectoration, had lost his appe- 
 tite, and was obliged constantly to have recourse to 
 stimulants. Weight about one hundred and thirty- 
 four pounds. He began to improve at once, his 
 appetite returned, all his symptoms decreased in 
 severity, and after a stay of more than three months 
 he returned to New York, weighing one hundred 
 and forty-six pounds, with only slight morning 
 cough, presenting the appearance of a man in good 
 health. A few days after his arrival in New York 
 he had a chill, all his old symptoms returned, and he 
 was advised to leave for St. Paul, where he spent the 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. Ill 
 
 entire winter. He did badly there ; was sick the 
 greater portion of the winter. In the spring of 1873 
 he again went to the Adirondacks. At this time he 
 was in a most debilitated state, was anaemic, emaci- 
 ated, had daily hectic fever, constant cough, and pro- 
 fuse purulent expectoration. 
 
 The marked improvement did not commence at 
 once, as it did the previous summer, and the first of 
 September found him in a wretched condition. I 
 then examined him for the first time, and found com- 
 plete consolidation of the left lung over the scapula 
 and supra-scapula space, with pleuritic thickenings 
 and adhesions over the infra-clavicular space. On 
 coughing, bronchial rales of large and small size were 
 heard over the consolidated portion of the lung. 
 Over the right infra-clavicular region the respiratory 
 murmur was feeble, and on full inspiration pleuritic 
 friction sounds were heard. I advised him to remain 
 at St. Regis Lake during the winter, and although he 
 was repeatedly warned that such a step would prove 
 fatal, he followed my advice. 
 
 From that time he began slowly to improve. Since 
 that time he has lived in this region. At the present 
 time his weight is one hundred and fifty-eight pounds, 
 a gain of twenty-two pounds since he first went to 
 the Adirondacks in 1873, and ten pounds more than 
 was his' weight in health. lie has slight morning cough 
 and expectoration, his pulse is from 72 to 85, and he 
 presents the appearance of a person in good health. 
 In his lungs evidences still remain of the disease he 
 has so many years combated. 
 
112 THE WILDERNESS CUEE. 
 
 Although he has made three attempts to live in 
 New York, at intervals of two years, each time his re- 
 moval from the mountains has been followed within 
 ten days by a chill, and a return of pneumonic symp- 
 toms — symptoms so ominous that he lias become 
 convinced that it will be necessary for him to remain 
 in the Adirondack region for some time to come. 
 
 Case III.— In the fall of 1873, Mr. E , aged 
 
 twenty, with decided hereditary tendency to phthisis, 
 went into the hike region of the Adirondacks. He had 
 then been ill about eighteen months, had spent two 
 winters in Nassau, and for the three months immedi- 
 ately preceding his arrival, he had failed very rapidly. 
 When he first consulted me, in September, 1873, I 
 found him extremely emaciated, weighing one hun- 
 dred and eight pounds, pulse habitually ranging from 
 110 to 130, morning temperature from 102° to 103°. 
 He had loss of appetite, night-sweats, and a constant 
 harassing cough with slight hemorrhages. Physical 
 examination revealed a large cavity on the right side 
 posteriorly, with entire consolidation of the right lung. 
 At the left apex there was also a small cavity with fine 
 crackling rales over the upper third of the left lung. 
 His condition remained desperate during the follow- 
 ing winter, but in the spring he somewhat recovered 
 his appetite, he regained strength, and he had long 
 intervals during which he was entirely free from fe- 
 ver. He spent the spring and summer of 1874 in 
 camp, and his improvement was very marked. A 
 physical examination of his chest in the fall of 1874 
 showed a marked decrease in the pulmonary consoli- 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 113 
 
 dation on the right side, the cavity had apparently 
 diminished in size, and vesicular murmurs could be 
 heard below and on either side of it. On the left 
 side the crackling sounds had disappeared, and no 
 signs of cavity could longer be detected, but broncho- 
 vesicular breathing was still distinctly heard. His 
 heart was hypertrophied, pulse 88, evening tempera- 
 ture 99f °, weight one hundred and sixteen pounds. 
 For the succeeding eight months he steadily improved. 
 In June, 1875, after an exposure which it would have 
 been unwise for one in health to risk, he was seized 
 with a prolonged chill, which was very severe, and 
 was followed by a pulmonary hemorrhage so profuse 
 that for some time he was thought to be dead, but he 
 lingered until morning, and died from pulmonary con- 
 gestion and oedema. 
 
 Although this case terminated fatally, I regarded 
 it as one of arrested phthisis. The beneficial effects 
 of the climate of this lake region were so positive and 
 well-marked in this case, that I assumed the responsi- 
 bility and induced other phthisical invalids to make a 
 trial of it, contrary to the advice of other physicians, 
 and regardless of the expostulations of friends. 
 
 Case IY. — Mr. M , aged twenty-seven, with a 
 
 good family history, after an illness of several months, 
 which was marked by cough, expectoration, and loss 
 of flesh, spent the summer of 1870 at Saranac Lake, 
 where he markedly improved, lost his cough, and 
 gained in weight. After his return to 'New York in 
 the fall, his cough returned, other physical symptoms 
 developed, and he was quite ill throughout the win- 
 
114 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 ter. The next summer he returned to the Adiron- 
 dacks much worse than he was the previous year. 
 Again he improved, and he thought he was almost 
 well. He went to California for the winter, did badly 
 there, and on his return to New York in the spring, 
 two physicians of large experience pronounced his case 
 a hopeless one — -one which would probably terminate 
 fatally within six months. In the early summer of 
 1872 he reached the Adirondacks in a most pitiable 
 condition. Both lungs were extensively diseased. 
 At the apex of the left lung were the physical signs 
 of extensive consolidation and softening. The upper 
 third of the right lung was consolidated, and was the 
 seat of large and small mucous rales. He had hectic 
 fever, extreme dyspnoea, a rapid pulse, and other 
 symptoms of advanced phthisis. lie soon began to 
 gain flesh and strength, his appetite improved, he 
 coughed less, his expectoration was diminished in 
 quantity, and by early fall he was able to keep out of 
 doors the greater portion of the time. For five years 
 he remained in the lake region. At times his condi- 
 tion was most promising, although little change took 
 place in the physical signs. Last spring, tired of the 
 seclusion, he returned to his home in New York* 
 
 Unquestionably this was a case of catarrhal phthisis, 
 and the results obtained from his first summer's 
 residence in the Adirondack region lead me to believe 
 that if Mr. M. had remained in the region the winter 
 succeeding this first summer, he would have reached 
 complete recovery. Even after reaching an advanced 
 stage of the disease, when there was no longer a pos- 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 115 
 
 sibility of recovery, a condition of stasis was readied 
 when lie permanently resided in the region. 
 
 Case V. — Mrs. L , aged forty, good family 
 
 history ; early in the summer of 1871 went to the 
 Adirondacks. She had been ill eight months with a 
 cough and other phthisical symptoms. At the time 
 of her arrival she was in a state of extreme exhaus- 
 tion ; for several weeks previous she had lived en- 
 tirely upon beef -tea and champagne. She had a 
 harassing cough, with profuse expectoration, and 
 hectic fever. Physical examination revealed a mode- 
 rate amount of consolidation at the apex of the right 
 lung, with crackling rales of large and small size ; no 
 evidence of softening. At once her desire for food 
 returned, and she began to gain flesh and strength ; 
 gradually her cough and expectoration diminished, 
 and late in the fall she returned to her home markedly 
 improved. Since that time she has spent some time 
 every summer or fall in this region, and for the last 
 three years none of the rational or physical signs of 
 phthisis have been present. 
 
 In this case the rapidity and completeness of the 
 recovery was quite surprising, when we consider how 
 unpromising was the condition of the patient at the 
 time when she first reached the Adirondacks. 
 
 Case YI. — Mr. P , aged thirty, with no here- 
 ditary tendency to any disease, first consulted me in 
 the spring of 1875. He had been ill six months 
 with cough, expectoration, hectic fever, gradual ema- 
 ciation, and other well-marked phthisical symptoms. 
 Physical examination of chest revealed consolidation 
 
116 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 at the apex of the right lung, with sharp crackling 
 rales, most abundant posteriorly, where distinct bron- 
 chial breathing could be heard below the spine of 
 the scapula; left lung healthy. I advised him to 
 take up his residence in the Adirondacks. He re- 
 mained in camp in the lake region during the sum- 
 mer of 1875, with only a slight increase in weight, a 
 slight improvement in strength, and no change in 
 cough or physical signs. During the fall and winter 
 he had several hemorrhages, with fever, and was con- 
 fined to his bed at different times. Early the next 
 spring he went into camp, and remained until Sep- 
 tember. When he came out of camp he weighed 
 one hundred and eighty-one pounds, had gained 
 forty pounds ; he had no cough, no expectoration, no 
 fever. An examination of his chest revealed no ab- 
 normal sound, except pleuritic creaking and feeble 
 respiratory murmur posteriorly over the former seat 
 of the pulmonary consolidation. I regarded him a 
 well man, and permitted him to return to his home. 
 He remained well until the following spring, when 
 he had an attack of acute cystitis. He was confined 
 to his bed for six weeks ; as soon as he was able to 
 travel he returned to the Adirondacks, but the cysti- 
 tis became chronic, Was complicated by pyelitis and 
 nephritis, and in early winter he died from acute 
 uraemia. 
 
 At the time Mr. R. took up his residence in the 
 Adirondacks, his digestive and assimilating processes 
 were in a feeble condition. Undoubtedly this ac- 
 counted for the fact that for nearly a year there was 
 
DE. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 117 
 
 little, if any, improvement in his lung disease. Bis 
 five months' camp life during the second year of his 
 residence in the Adirondacks not only cured his dis- 
 eased lung, but wrought an entire change in his 
 physical condition. So great was the change, that 
 one would scarcely recognize him. When he left the 
 woods the following fall, no evidence of lung dis- 
 ease could be detected, nor was any detected during 
 the remainder of his life. 
 
 Case VII. — Miss C , aged eighteen, in the 
 
 spring or early summer of 1875 reached the Adiron- 
 dacks in a very feeble condition. She had had a 
 cough for six months, with frequent pulmonary hem- 
 orrhages, attended by fever, loss of flesh and strength. 
 Physical examination of the chest revealed dulness 
 on percussion, bronchial respiration, and crackling 
 rales at the apex of -the right lung. Her improve- 
 ment began at once ; at the expiration of three 
 months she had gained eleven pounds in weight, had 
 no cough, and had so regained her strength as to be 
 able to take active out-of-door exercise. In early fall 
 she returned to her home, and has there remained in 
 good health. 
 
 In this case the pulmonary consolidation was evi- 
 dently catarrhal in its nature, and of recent date. 
 That she came to the Adirondacks in the earlier 
 stages of the disease, probably had much to do with 
 her rapid and complete recovery. 
 
 Case YIII. — Mr. B , aged thirty-two, with a 
 
 decided hereditary predisposition to phthisis, took up 
 his residence in the lake region of the Adirondacks 
 
118 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 in the summer of 1875. After lie left home, before 
 he reached the Adirondacks, he had a severe hem- 
 orrhage. For three months after his arrival he was 
 in a critical condition, had severe cough, frequent 
 hemorrhages, fever, and rapid emaciation. He did 
 not begin to improve until late in the fall, after 
 which time his improvement was steadily progressive. 
 During a two years' residence in the region he fully 
 regained health and strength, his cough ceased, and 
 in August, IS 78, I could find no trace of disease in 
 the lungs, except old pleuritic thickenings and ad- 
 hesions at the apex of the left lung. In September, 
 1878, he left the Adirondacks. ' 
 
 During his first year's residence in the Adirondacks 
 no physical examination was made, but he stated that 
 previous to his coming into the region his medical 
 advisers had told him that his lungs were extensively 
 diseased, and that he had come with a "forlorn 
 hope." His disease commenced as a " severe cold," 
 and unquestionably his case was one of catarrhal 
 phthisis. 
 
 Case IX — Dr. T , aged thirty-two, with marked 
 
 hereditary tendency to phthisis, came to the Adiron- 
 dacks in the summer of 1875. For ten months he 
 had been ill with well-marked phthisical symptoms. 
 The upper third of the right lung was consolidated, 
 with circumscribed liquid rales in the supra- scapular 
 fossa. At the apex of the left lung there was ex- 
 aggerated rude respiration, but no rales. He remained 
 four months, in camp the greater portion of the 
 time. As he improved he became restless, and could 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 119 
 
 not be induced to longer remain. His weight was 
 now one hundred and forty-eight pounds, he had 
 gained twelve pounds, and had no cough. After 
 leaving the Adirondacks he went South, but re- 
 turned in the spring in a most' enfeebled condition ; 
 weight one hundred and twenty-seven pounds, with 
 pallid countenance, difficult breathing, and so weak 
 that he was obliged to lie down the greater portion 
 of the time. The entire upper lobe of the lung on 
 the right side was consolidated, and abundant rales 
 were heard throughout the consolidated portion. The 
 respirations at the apex of the left lung had become 
 markedly bronchial in character. He began to im- 
 prove, and by the first of December had regained his 
 appetite and strength. Again he became restless, 
 left the Adirondacks, went to Colorado and Califor- 
 nia, was twice near death, and in early summer re- 
 turned to the Adirondacks "in extremis," with a 
 large cavity in his right lung, and commencing soft- 
 ening in his left lung. Having thrown away his 
 chances for recovery, he died in early winter. 
 
 A series of mistakes marked the course of this- 
 patient. A short time previous to his death he stated 
 to me that in attempting to follow the advice of his 
 Philadelphia physician, who recommended a warm 
 climate, and that of his New York medical adviser, 
 who recommended a cold climate, he had made the 
 result a failure. 
 
 As we review his history, it seems to me that we 
 are warranted in coming to the conclusion that the 
 result might have been different had he remained in 
 
120 THE WILDERNESS CUBE. 
 
 the Adirondack region for two or three years suc- 
 ceeding Lis first visit. 
 
 Case X. — Mrs. M , aged twenty-eight, with no 
 
 hereditary tendency to phthisis, consulted me in the 
 fall of 1876. She had a cough, which was paroxysmal 
 in character, with little expectoration. For several 
 months she had been losing flesh, had had daily 
 fever and night-sweats ; at times she had suffered 
 from severe attacks of dyspnoea, which were followed 
 by an expectoration which she termed " stringy." 
 Physical examination revealed pulmonary consolida- 
 tion posteriorly at the apex of the right lung, with 
 sharp bronchial rales over the consolidation. At dif- 
 ferent points over the chest, dry and moist rales were 
 heard, and I made the diagnosis of probable fibrous 
 bronchitis, with pulmonary consolidation at the apex 
 of the right lung. I advised her to spend the winter 
 in Asheville, E\- C, where she obtained little, if any, 
 relief. During the winter she expectorated a num- 
 ber of well-formed bronchial casts. On her return, I 
 found her more feeble than when I first saw her, and 
 the area of lung consolidation increased. 
 
 Following my advice, in June she went into the 
 lake region of the Adirondacks, remained nearly a 
 year, and entirely recovered from the bronchitis and 
 pulmonary consolidation. 
 
 This case was one of well-marked plastic bronchi- 
 tis, with circumscribed consolidation at the apex of 
 the right lung. When we recall the fact that the 
 majority of cases of chronic plastic bronchitis are 
 followed by phthisis, and terminate fatally, the com- 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 121 
 
 plete recovery readied in this case is somewhat sur- 
 prising. 
 
 I would call attention to the fact that in this case 
 the climate of the Adirondacks produced such differ- 
 ent results from that of Asheville, UST. C. 
 
 Case XI. — Miss F ■, aged nineteen, of a non- 
 phthisical family, consulted me in March, 1875, 
 having taken cold the previous January. She was 
 rapidly losing flesh, had an almost constant hacking 
 cough, night-sweats, with other well-marked phthisi- 
 cal symptoms. On physical examination, I found 
 complete consolidation of the upper third of the right 
 lung, with crackling rales posteriorly. Evening tem- 
 perature 103°, and pulse feeble. She had lost ten 
 pounds since January, and was easily exhausted. 
 Ten days after I first saw her she had a profuse 
 hemorrhage ; in two days this was followed by a 
 second. She was so reduced in strength by these 
 hemorrhages, and her general symptoms became so 
 aggravated, that unless soon arrested it was evident 
 her pulmonary disease would progress very rapidly, 
 and soon terminate fatally ; I feared acute phthisis. 
 
 In the early part of April she went to Washington, 
 was carried to and from the cars ; she remained six 
 weeks, with very little improvement in her condition, 
 the entire upper lobe of the right lung having now 
 become involved in the pulmonary consolidation. 
 The early part of July she reached the Adirondacks. 
 She rapidly began to improve, and when I examined 
 her the following October, she had gained twenty 
 pounds in weight, coughed only in the morning after 
 
122 THE WILDERNESS CUBE. 
 
 rising, had no fever, and had a pulse of 80. Bron- 
 chial breathing was heard posteriorly over the area of 
 the pulmonary consolidation, while qnite extensive 
 pleuritic adhesions and thickening could be detected 
 in front. She spent portions of the summer and fall 
 months in the Adirondacks for the two succeeding 
 years, and now regards herself perfectly well, and is 
 so regarded by her f riends. 
 
 The pleuritic changes which occurred during the 
 active progress of the disease alone give evidence of 
 her former pulmonary disease. When this patient first 
 went to the Adirondacks, not only did her disease in- 
 volve a large amount of lung-tissue, but her general 
 condition was very unpromising, her stomach, was 
 exceedingly irritable, and her emaciation was rapid 
 and her anaemia extreme. 
 
 Case XII. — Mrs. P , aged forty, from a non- 
 phthisical family, first came under my observation 
 in March, 1877. Since 1869 she had suffered with 
 phthisical symptoms ; at times her case had been re- 
 garded as hopeless. Physical examination revealed 
 fibrous induration of the upper lobe of the right lung, 
 with the physical signs of cavity under the right 
 clavicle, and pleuritic thickening over the entire lung. 
 Pulse 100, feeble, and easily accelerated. Temperature 
 101° ; extreme dyspnoea consequent upon exertion. 
 She had night-sweats, was extremely anaemic, not 
 markedly emaciated, but her weight was less than 
 when in health. Cough paroxysmal and violent, with 
 si ate- colored expectoration ; her appetite was capric- 
 ious, and her disease had made marked progress since 
 
DR. LOOMIS OF THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 123 
 
 the early part of January. In early summer she went 
 to the lake region, where she remained until fall. In 
 her general health the improvement was very marked ; 
 hut little change took place in the physical signs. 
 During the winter there was little change in her con- 
 dition. Early the following summer (summer of 
 1878) she went to the Adirondacks and into camp, 
 where she remained until the following October. 
 Not only was the improvement in her general health 
 very marked, but her cough almost entirely disap- 
 peared, and her general physical condition was better 
 than it had been since the commencement of her dis- 
 ease. The fibrous induration remained at the apex 
 of the right lung, although vesicular breathing could 
 be heard over the remaining portion of the lung. 
 
 When I first examined this case I regarded it as 
 one of fibrous phthisis, and only hoped for that com- 
 plete cicatricial process to be developed which renders 
 the diseased lung- tissue inactive. While, as yet, she 
 has not reached such a condition, her steady improve- 
 ment without any new lung-tissue becoming involved, 
 and the absence of any evidence that degenerative 
 processes have been developed in the lung-tissue 
 already involved, leads me to believe that if the same 
 climatic influences be continued, which during the 
 past two years have produced such beneficial results, 
 at length the desired result may be obtained. 
 
 Case XIII. — Mr. S , aged thirty-one, with a 
 
 good family history ; at my suggestion went to the 
 Adirondacks in the early part of the summer of 1876. 
 
 He first consulted me in the fall of 1875, had then 
 
124 THE WILDERNESS CTEE. 
 
 been ill about one year ; had well-marked phthisical 
 symptoms. He had received a most unfavorable 
 prognosis from medical men in this country and in 
 Europe. A physical examination revealed quite ex- 
 • tensive consolidation of the apex of the right lung, 
 with sharp crackling rales. I advised him to spend 
 the winter in Aslieville, N. C. On his return in early 
 summer, I found that although his general condition 
 had somewhat improved, his pulmonary disease had 
 made considerable progress. Soon after his arrival in 
 the Adirondacks he was seized with an acute cystitis, 
 which prostrated him very much. Although he re- 
 mained nearly two years in the lake region, his pul- 
 monary disease steadily, but slowly, progressed. In 
 the spring of 1878, in an extremely debilitated con- 
 dition, he returned to his home in Ohio. 
 
 In this case, the disease from its onset steadily pro- 
 gressed, and the diagnosis of tubercular phthisis which 
 was made the first time I saw him, was confirmed by 
 his subsequent history. While he was in the Adiron- 
 dack region, although at times he seemed to be im- 
 proving, the periods of improvement were of short 
 duration, and each exacerbation of fever left him in 
 a more and more enfeebled condition. With each 
 exacerbation of fever, new areas of lung-tissue became 
 involved. At the time he left for his home in Ohio, 
 suspicious bubbling sounds were heard over the origi- 
 nal seat of his disease, and his respirations were 
 amphoric in character. 
 
 Case XIY. — Mr. L , aged twenty-two, with 
 
 well-marked phthisical symptoms, had been ill six 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 125 
 
 months, when, in the summer of 1877, he took up 
 his residence in the Adirondacks. At the time of 
 his arrival his cough was constant, his expectoration 
 was of a greenish color, and of tenacious consistency. 
 He was rapidly losing flesh, had night-sweats, and 
 shortness of breath upon slight exertion. Physical 
 examination revealed consolidation at the apex of the 
 right lung, with fine crackling rales in the supra-scap- 
 ular fossa. He remained about one year, spending 
 the summer and early fall in camp. His cough dis- 
 appeared, and he gained fourteen pounds in weight. 
 Ten months after his arrival no abnormal sound could 
 be heard in his lungs, except feeble respiratory mur- 
 mur, and pleuritic creaking at the end of a full in- 
 spiration at the former seat of the pulmonary con- 
 solidation. He has continued perfectly well to the 
 present time, and is now studying law. This was a 
 case of catarrhal phthisis in its first stage, in which, 
 like the previous case of which I have made men- 
 tion, the recovery from the pulmonary disease was 
 rapid and complete. 
 
 Case XY. — Mrs. G , of a non-phthisical fam- 
 ily, first consulted me in April, 1878. She had suf- 
 fered with well-marked phthisical symptoms for six 
 months, the result of a cold contracted the previous 
 summer, while she was in a debilitated condition, 
 which had been followed by a cough. Physical ex- 
 amination of the chest revealed consolidation of the 
 upper two-thirds of the right lung, with circumscribed 
 moist rales under the right clavicle with amphoric 
 breathing. She was very feeble ; had rapidly lost 
 
126 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 flesh ; bad night-sweats, loss of appetite, an almost 
 constant cough, an abundant expectoration, with oc- 
 casional spitting of blood, and dyspnoea upon slight 
 exertion. Temperature in the evening, 103° ; pulse, 
 110 to 120. 
 
 She went into the lake region of the Adirondacks 
 in June, and returned the last of September. She 
 made little or no improvement until the last of Au- 
 gust ; from that time she began to rapidly improve, 
 and has continued to gain flesh to the present time. 
 She now weighs thirty-eight pounds more than be- 
 fore she went to the Adirondacks, and coughs only 
 in the morning. Physical examination shows vesic- 
 ular breathing over the seat of the former consolida- 
 tion, except posteriorly, where the breathing is bron- 
 cho-vesicular in character, and pleuritic creakings are 
 well marked. No signs of cavity can be detected. 
 
 The improvement in this case did not commence 
 until two months after she reached the Adirondacks ; 
 in fact, for a time the disease seemed to be progress- 
 ing with some degree of rapidity. During this time 
 she had two quite profuse hemorrhages. The changes 
 in the diseased lung were so extensive, and of such a 
 nature, that I did not hope for recovery. The in- 
 crease in weight has been greater and more rapid 
 than in any other case of phthisis which has come 
 under my observation. 
 
 Case XYI. — Mr. K, , aged thirty, of a phthisi- 
 cal family, began to cough in the winter of 1876. 
 Two months after he began to cough he had a hem- 
 orrhage. Soon after the hemorrhage he began to 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 127 
 
 have fever and to lose flesh. He first consulted me 
 in May, 1876. He then presented the appearance of 
 one in advanced phthisis. He was emaciated, had 
 an evening temperature of 102° and 103°, and had 
 great difficulty of breathing, becoming exhausted from 
 the exertion attending the ascent of a flight of stairs. 
 Physical examination revealed extensive consolida- 
 tion of the upper lobe of the right lung. Distinct 
 bronchial respiration could be heard from the clavi- 
 cle to the upper border of the fourth rib. He went 
 into the Adirondack region, where he remained a 
 year. On his return to New York he presented the 
 appearance of perfect health. He had no cough, and 
 said he weighed more, and felt stronger and better 
 than he had for years. Physical examination re- 
 vealed only pleuritic thickening over the former seat 
 of the pulmonary consolidation. No physical exami- 
 nation of the chest was made from the time he went 
 into the Adirondack region in early winter until his 
 return to New York, one year later. He stated that 
 his improvement commenced about three weeks after 
 he reached the Adirondacks, and that every day dur- 
 ing the winter months he spent from six to eight 
 hours out of doors. 
 
 He has remained in New York until the present 
 time, and has had no return of his phthisical symp- 
 toms. 
 
 Case XYII. — Mr. A , aged thirty-one, with a 
 
 strong hereditary tendency to phthisis, had his first 
 hemorrhage in February, 1877, after which he rap- 
 idly lost flesh and strength, and in June, when I first 
 
128 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 saw him, lie was extremely emaciated and anaemic ; 
 liad a constant hacking cough, with muco-purulent 
 expectoration, and frequent slight hemorrhages. Tem- 
 perature ranged from 100° to 103° ; pulse never be- 
 low 100, and easily accelerated. Physical examina- 
 tion revealed slight consolidation at both apices, with 
 moist, bubbling rales in left supra- scapular fossa. He 
 went into the Adirondacks in July, and remained 
 nearly a year, during which time his disease slowly, 
 but steadily, progressed. A physical examination in 
 July, 1878, revealed a cavity at the apex of the left 
 lung, with infiltration of the entire left lung. I ad- 
 vised his return to his family. 
 
 In this case the diagnosis of tubercular phthisis 
 was made at the first examination. The subsequent 
 history and the uninterrupted progress of the disease 
 fully sustained the diagnosis first made. 
 
 Case XVIII. — Mrs. O , aged thirty- four, with 
 
 no hereditary predisposition to phthisis, first con- 
 sulted me in May, 1878. She had coughed for six 
 months, had repeatedly had hemorrhages. She went 
 South during the winter of 1877-78, where she did 
 badly, rapidly losing health and strength, and had 
 afternoon fever and night-sweats. Pulse 102° F., 
 feeble and easily accelerated. Afternoon temperature 
 102°. She complained of dyspnoea on slight exer- 
 tion, and became easily fatigued, was anaemic, had 
 no desire for food, and was dyspeptic. A physical 
 examination revealed consolidation of the upper third 
 of the left lung, with bronchial rales and pleuritic 
 adhesions over the entire left side. 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE* ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 120 
 
 In July she went to St. Regis Lake (Adirondacks), 
 where she remained three months. Immediately she 
 began to improve ; the cough became less and less 
 troublesome, her appetite returned, and she soon 
 gained fourteen pounds in weight. By the first of 
 September her pulse and temperature were normal, 
 and by the first of October the only physical evidences 
 of disease were slight pulmonary consolidation un- 
 der left scapula, and pleuritic creaking in left infra- 
 clavicular space. She has continued to improve since 
 her return, and is now apparently well. 
 
 This was another case in which the rapid and con- 
 tinued improvement was unexpected. The general 
 appearance and condition of the patient when first 
 seen by me w^as unpromising. The perseverance or 
 fixedness of purpose, and good sense of the patient, 
 I believe had very much to do with her marked im- 
 provement. She remained out of doors nearly the 
 whole of every day, took no risks, and made use of 
 everything in her surroundings which would aid iii 
 bringing about the desired result. 
 
 Case XIX. — Mr. M , aged thirty-four, con- 
 sulted me in the spring of 1877, having had a pul- 
 monary hemorrhage. For the previous three months 
 he had been rapidly losing flesh and strength, had 
 fever, night-sweats, and was extremely ansemic. He 
 had had cough with expectoration for more than a 
 year. Physical examination revealed consolidation 
 of the apex of the left lung as far as the lower bor- 
 der of the third rib, with quite extensive pleuritic 
 changes and marked retraction of the left side of the 
 0* 
 
130 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 chest. He had repeated hemorrhages, was confined 
 to his room for several weeks, and it was the latter 
 part of June before he was able to travel. Early in 
 July he started for the Adirondacks. He presented 
 the appearance of a person in advanced phthisis, and 
 physical examination at this time detected marked 
 retraction of the left chest and bronchial dilatation 
 in the left supra-scapular space. 
 
 During July and August his improvement was very 
 slight, and it was the latter part of August before he 
 was able to go into camp. He remained about two 
 months in camp, during which time he regained his 
 normal weight, his strength returned, and he had 
 great physical endurance. Late in the fall he re- 
 turned to Xew York, presenting the appearance of 
 one in health, although he still had cough and short- 
 ness of breath, and physical examination showed little 
 change in the consolidated lung. His improvement 
 continued until the following March, when he again 
 grew worse, lost flesh, and had occasional fever. In 
 May he had another slight hemorrhage. An exam- 
 ination of his chest showed an increase in the pul- 
 monary consolidation since the previous examination ; 
 pleuritic adhesions and thickenings were detected 
 over the whole of the left side, with more marked 
 retraction on the left side. He again went to the 
 Adirondacks, and remained in camp the greater por- 
 tion of the summer and fall. He rapidly regained 
 flesh and strength, and all his active phthisical symp- 
 toms again disappeared, excepting morning cough 
 with expectoration. Little change could be detected 
 
DK. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 131 
 
 in liis physical signs. Unquestionably this is a case of 
 fibrous phthisis, and although while he remains in 
 the Adirondack^ he regains his flesh and strength, 
 and the progress of the disease seems to be arrested, 
 yet little or no improvement can be detected in the 
 diseased lung. 
 
 Cast: XX. — Miss IT had her first pulmonary 
 
 hemorrhage, which was quite profuse, in January, 
 1877. Within the week following this first hemor- 
 rhage she had frequent hemorrhages, averaging more 
 than one per day. During the preceding year her 
 physical and mental labor had been unusually taxing 
 or severe, and she was not in her usual health. For. 
 several months she had suffered more or less from 
 nasal, pharyngeal, and bronchial catarrh. She first 
 consulted me in June, 1877, .at which time she pre- 
 sented all the symptoms of well-developed phthisis. 
 She had constant cough, with muco-purulent expec- 
 toration frequently streaked with blood, was ema- 
 ciated, had fever, night-sweats, loss of appetite, short- 
 ness of breath, etc. 
 
 A physical examination revealed consolidation of 
 left lung from its apex down to the fourth rib, with 
 abundant mucous rales over the left scapula. In the 
 early part of July she went into the Adirondacks, and 
 into camp. On her return from the region in I\o- 
 vember, I found her much improved ; she coughed 
 little, had no fever, had gained eight pounds in 
 weight, could walk long distances without fatigue or 
 shortness of breath. Physical examination showed 
 marked diminution in pulmonary consolidation in the 
 
132 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 left iiif ra-clavicular space ; bronchial respiration and 
 mucous rales were still heard over left scapula. She 
 steadily improved until the middle of February, when 
 she had a severe attack of influenza, from the effects 
 of which she did not entirely recover, and June, 1878, 
 found her in a worse condition than she was in June, 
 1877. Following the influenza, a pleurisy was estab- 
 lished over the whole of the left pleura. This 
 greatly increased her difficulty of respiration. June 
 11th she again left for the Adirondacks, went into 
 camp July 1st, and remained in camp until October 
 10th. During the summer she had two slight hemor- 
 rhages, but she steadily regained her strength and 
 weight, and seldom coughed. A physical examina- 
 tion, made the following November, showed entire 
 absence of pulmonary consolidation at the apex of the 
 left lung, and the only remaining physical signs of 
 disease were pleuritic adhesions or thickenings over 
 the upper third of the lung, with localized bronchial 
 rales in the left supra-scapular fossa. Since Novem- 
 ber her improvement has been steadily progressive ; 
 she has the appearance of one in health, yet she has 
 slight cough with muco-purulent expectoration, and 
 physical signs of disease are still present. 
 
 The statement previously made in regard to the 
 probable effect of a longer stay in the woods, holds 
 true in this case. 
 
 A brief summary of the foregoing cases gives the 
 following results : 
 
 Of the twenty persons who have testea the thera- 
 peutical power of the climate of the Adirondack re- . 
 
DR. LOO MIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 133 
 
 gion, by giving it an extended trial, ten have recov- 
 ered, six have been improved, two have not been 
 benefited, and two have died. 
 
 The ten cases of recovery were those of catarrhal 
 phthisis; of the six cases in which improvement took 
 place, four were those of catarrhal phthisis, and two 
 were cases of fibrous phthisis. The two cases in 
 which no benefit was received from a stay in the 
 region were cases of tubercular phthisis, in both of 
 which the disease steadily progressed, and at no time 
 could it be said that it was even temporarily arrested. 
 In both cases of fibrous phthisis, extensive retraction 
 of lung had taken place, with bronchial dilatation and 
 compensatory emphysematous developments. Exer- 
 cise could not be taken, for very slight physical ex- 
 ertion brought on attacks of severe and frequent 
 dyspnoea, and the severe attacks of coughing inter- 
 fered with digestion and nutrition. In both cases 
 failure of the right heart was well marked. In both 
 the improvement manifested itself in the gaining of 
 flesh and strength, rather than hi any change in the 
 lungs which could be appreciated by physical exam- 
 ination. I believe these cases would have done bet- 
 ter in Colorado. 
 
 Those cases of catarrhal phthisis which were im- 
 proved, but not cured, were those in which the pul- 
 monary changes were extensive, or had reached the 
 stage of excavation — cases in which complete recov- 
 ery is always problematical. 
 
 In all these cases the improvement did not com- 
 mence immediately — not until some time after the 
 
134 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 individual had taken up his residence in the region ; 
 and when it did commence, it was not constantly 
 progressive. Each case had a long history of getting 
 Letter and worse, but each advance toward recovery 
 was more marked than the former. Whether these 
 cases will or will not reach complete recovery, is a 
 question, but I am certain that a permanent residence 
 in the region greatly increases the probabilities of 
 such a result, from the fact that in those cases which 
 have come under my observation a temporary ab- 
 sence from this region has been followed by such 
 sad results. In all the cases of catarrhal phthisis 
 which have reached recovery, either the pulmonary 
 changes were not extensive, or they were of re- 
 cent origin, and improvement commenced soon after 
 reaching the Adirondacks. The results obtained 
 established the fact, that a large proportion of the 
 cases of this variety of phthisis, if they have not 
 passed the first stage, or stage of consolidation, can 
 recover. 
 
 The two cases that terminated fatally were cases 
 of catarrhal phthisis. Although, when they came 
 into this region, their lungs were extensively diseased, 
 they were much benefited during their stay, and it 
 seems to me that impatience and imprudence had 
 very much to do with the fatal termination. 
 
 Results show that the climate of this region is 
 better adapted to the treatment of catarrhal phthisis 
 than of any other variety. I believe fibrous phthisis 
 does better in higher altitudes — for instance, in 
 Colorado. 
 
DR. LOOMIS ON THE ST. REGIS COUNTRY. 135 
 
 My experience leads me to believe that climate 
 lias little beneficial effect upon tubercular phthisis. 
 
 For some time I have believed — in fact I became 
 convinced soon after I began to study carefully the 
 effect of climate upon phthisical invalids — that a 
 larger proportion of such were benefited or cured in 
 a cold than in a warm climate. 
 
 The testimony of those who have spent a winter, 
 or more than one winter, in the Adirondacks is, that 
 improvement was far more rapid during the winter 
 than during the summer months ; and I have found, 
 by physical examination of the lungs, that the arrest 
 in the morbid processes and the establishment of the 
 curative processes was more marked during the win- 
 ter than during the summer months. 
 
 I shall have accomplished my purpose, if by this 
 hastily prepared paper I shall have awakened in my 
 professional brethren the spirit of investigation as 
 regards this extensive 'health-restoring region, within 
 the boundaries of our own State, which we have been 
 passing by, while we have sent phthisical invalids 
 far from home and friends to regions far less re- 
 storative. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE COST OF THE THING. 
 
 In dealing with the matter of expense, as connected 
 with the wilderness experiment, it has been thought 
 advisable to put the information under a separate 
 heading, instead of scattering it over the pages of 
 this little volume. 
 
 The cost of any undertaking of this sort will, of 
 course, depend largely on the tastes and circumstances 
 of the invalid. To the fortunate few whom fate has 
 in some measure compensated for the loss of health 
 by bestowing large fortunes upon them, this chapter 
 will be of little moment. They may omit it alto- 
 gether in deciding upon the trip. To that infinitely 
 larger number, however, who must consult their 
 purses before carrying out any plan, even where that 
 plan may involve the question of life or death, the 
 money item assumes no insignificant proportions. 
 And for those who are called upon to bear the burden 
 of actual poverty with that of wasting disease — those 
 who have heretofore looked upon a journey to the 
 established health-resorts as among the bitter impos- 
 sibilities which poverty imposes — for those it will be 
 
THE COST OF THE THING. 137 
 
 a gracious duty to point the way to this new El 
 Dorado whose gold is life. 
 
 As a convenient starting-point in the calculations 
 which are to follow, we will suppose the health-seeker 
 to have reached the most important gateway of the 
 upper wilderness — Plattsburg. The fare from that 
 town to the St. Regis Lake House by the present 
 route is §4.50. Each passenger is allowed one trunk 
 by the stage, and will be charged an extra $2 for 
 each additional trunk. Dinner at the half-way house, 
 seventy-five cents. 
 
 The established price for board at " Paul 5; Smith's 
 is $2.50 per day. Unlike any other house of its 
 character of which the writer has any knowledge, no 
 deduction from the per-diem rates is made on ac- 
 count of a prolonged stay. The guest pays $2.50 if 
 he remains a day, and at precisely the same rate if 
 he remains four months. 
 
 Guides consider their services worth $2.50 per day 
 and their board. The hotel sets a separate table for 
 their accommodation, at which meals are served for 
 twenty-five cents each. When engaged in the work 
 of guiding proper, the men fairly earn all they get. 
 When employed regularly in the permanent camp 
 of an invalid, it must be confessed that $17.50 a 
 week, with board included, is a rate of wages for un- 
 skilled labor out of all keeping with existing values. 
 The men themselves understand this fact, and where 
 one can be found willing to attend an invalid, he 
 may generally be hired for $1 a day. In all such 
 cases it is understood that the place is to be permanent 
 
138 THE WILDERNESS CURE. 
 
 for tlie season, provided, of course, the man proves 
 satisfactory. 
 
 Where it is possible, it is best to hire a guide 
 who owns a boat. Otherwise one may be rented 
 from the hotel at fifty cents a day. When new, 
 these boats cost from $40 to $75. A good second- 
 hand one may often be bought in the autumn as 
 low as $15. 
 
 A good canvas tent, ten by twelve feet, can be pur- 
 chased in New York for about $35. This might not 
 include poles and stakes, but as it costs much more 
 than their value to transport these, they are better 
 left behind. A covering or fly for the tent may be 
 jnade of heavy cotton cloth, which serves the purpose 
 quite as well as canvas. 
 
 For the ordinary labor required in preparing a per- 
 manent camp, $1 a day, with the man's board, is a 
 fair allowance. A good strong woman for kitchen 
 work ought to be found for $3 a week. Boys (if 
 any can be found small enough or young enough not 
 to regard themselves as guides) may be employed for 
 fifty cents a day. _N o other kind of labor need be 
 considered, as there are no regular mechanics or 
 artisans in the region. 
 
 In the necessary furniture of a camp, a very small 
 outlay will meet the requirements, if the items of 
 stoves and beds be excepted. For the former, a good 
 cook-stove may sometimes be hired from the year- 
 round inhabitants, the user paying two or three dol- 
 lars for the season. This is the most economical way. 
 A tent-stove of sheet-iron costs, perhaps, $5, with 
 
THE COST OF THE THING. 139 
 
 something more for the pipe. A good bed is the 
 most expensive necessity of the sick man's camp. 
 The hotel furnishes blankets for roughing it, bnt it 
 will not be well to depend on this source for a com- 
 fortable and civilized bed. Those who set out with 
 an eye to economy cannot do better than bring their 
 bed with them — that is, a good mattress, pillows and 
 blankets, with enough of the last to meet the colder 
 nights safely. 
 
 The staple articles of food are sold, as a rule, at a 
 considerable advance on the New York market prices, 
 but to this statement exception must be made in the 
 matter of eggs, butter, and milk. The very best of 
 butter was supplied us at fifteen to twenty cents per 
 pound. The highest price for eggs was twenty cents 
 per dozen. Rich, creamy milk could be had for five 
 cents a quart. Spring lambs can be bought for 
 from $2 to $3, which reduces the price of delicious 
 chops, roasts, and stews, to something under ten cents 
 per pound. Beef sells at the hotel for twenty cents 
 a pound — but Adirondack beef would be dear at 
 twenty pounds for a cent. Yenison brings from ten 
 to twelve cents a pound. Chickens are plentiful at 
 twenty-five cents apiece. Trout, in their season, if 
 sold at all, may be had for twelve or fifteen cents a 
 pound. As a rule, however, the camper-out may 
 count on all the trout he cares for without money 
 and without price. Flour, meal, sugar, tea, coffee, 
 canned fruits, and vegetables — all these are sold in 
 the supply store at the hotel, and although the prices 
 range high, the quality of the articles is superior. If 
 
140 THE WILDERNESS CUEE. 
 
 the permanency of the camp is definitely fixed upon, 
 it will be well to purchase stores in considerable 
 quantities, thus reducing their cost, as well as the la- 
 bor of conveying them to camp. In Bloomingdale 
 there is an excellent supply store, where the prices 
 rule considerably lower than in the hotel. To the 
 proprietor of this store, Mr. Isaac Chesley, all orders 
 for provisions maybe intrusted, with the certainty of 
 getting what you want, and getting it on reasonable 
 terms. 
 
 By no means an unimportant item of expense to 
 those who make any prolonged stay in the woods, is 
 the cost attending the transportation of articles from 
 the outer world. The express charges of the stage 
 lines would seem preposterously high anywhere save 
 in the backwoods. Even here they are much higher 
 than they should be, and, what is worse, they seem 
 to be fixed by no regular schedule, but wholly at the 
 option of the driver. This lack of uniformity leads 
 to no little annoyance. Often we found that the cost 
 of an article was more than doubled by the express 
 charges from Plattsburg to the hotel ; and the ab- 
 surdity of paying forty cents to get a ten-cent tack- 
 hammer brought in from Ausable Forks, reminds 
 one of the purchasing power of Confederate money 
 in 1864. The invalid who depends on friends at 
 home to send him dainties and medicines must be 
 interested in this matter of express charges. "Wher- 
 ever practicable, it is well to use the mail for the 
 transmission of small packages not excluded by the 
 postal rules. 
 
THE COST OF THE THING. 141 
 
 From the foregoing outline of expenses we may 
 formulate some exact estimates as to the cost of 
 camping-out in the Adirondacks, Let us seek first 
 the minimum outlay required to make the experi- 
 ment. 
 
 The patient, we will assume, is poor — so poor that 
 every dime, as well as dollar, must be counted. Sup- 
 pose him to be a mechanic, with a thrifty, compe- 
 tent, hard-working wife. Suppose him to have been 
 told by a trustworthy physician that his one chance 
 of recovery lies in giving the wilderness cure a trial ; 
 that this chance is so large as to amount almost to a 
 certainty, but that if he does not avail himself of it 
 he must inevitably die in a short time. To such a 
 man, living, we will say, in Is ew York or Boston or 
 Philadelphia, Florida would be a mockery, Santa 
 Barbara a dream ; but the wilderness invites him, 
 offers him all the benefits which can accrue to any- 
 body, and presents no exorbitant bill for working its 
 marvellous cure. In the estimate that follows, it is 
 assumed that the camp shall consist of a good tent 
 and one bark building ; that the invalid's wife shall 
 do the domestic work of the camp, as she has always 
 done of the home ; that there shall be an abundance 
 of wholesome food and in greater variety than the 
 poor of our cities can afford ; and that, finally, all 
 the essential conditions of the wilderness cure shall 
 be fulfilled as perfectly as if the patient were a rich 
 man. Here are the figures : 
 
142 T1IE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 Minimum Cost of a Gamp for Two Persons, to 
 Occupied Four Months. 
 
 Canvas tent, $25 00 
 
 . Bark building, . . . „ 10 00 
 
 Camp equipments, . . . 15 00 
 
 Food and all necessary expenses, 
 
 per week, $6, ... 102 00 
 
 $152 00 
 
 In tlie above, no provision is made for tlie cost of 
 reaching tlie wilderness nor of tho medicines which 
 may be required ; neither is there any margin for 
 those delicacies which the invalid is apt to crave ; 
 but, nevertheless, the estimate is sufficiently liberal 
 for the making of the experiment under such condi- 
 tions as have already been explained. Rather than 
 not try the Adirondack cure at all, let the man with 
 $150 and a good wife come along. 
 
 Let us pass next to an estimate of the expenses 
 which will be incurred by those persons who are 
 neither rich nor poor — who seek to economize, but 
 are not driven to the stern necessities which pinching 
 poverty demands. Here the comforts of camp life 
 will be considerably increased, and not a few luxuries 
 may be counted upon. The camp itself may include 
 a first class tent and three or four bark buildings ; it 
 can employ the steady services of a competent man, 
 who will provide his own boat and attend to all the 
 ordinary labor ; it can furnish a table iruod enough 
 
THE COST OF THE THING. 143 
 
 for anybody ; and, in short, it can be made home-like 
 and attractive, as an invalid's camp should be. The 
 figures will, I think, in every instance, be found large 
 enough to allow of some little surplus, and the totai 
 Avill be more apt to fall below the estimate than to 
 rise above it. The schedule stands thus : 
 
 Medium Cost of a Camp for Two Persons, with 
 
 Guide, for Four 
 
 Months. 
 
 
 
 Canvas tent, . 
 
 
 $40 
 
 00 
 
 Building camp, . 
 
 . 
 
 50 
 
 00 
 
 Equipments, 
 
 
 50 
 
 00 
 
 Food and all necessary 
 
 expenses, 
 
 
 
 per week, $9, 
 
 
 153 
 
 00 
 
 Guide for season, . 
 
 
 125 
 
 00 
 
 $418 00 
 
 It should be remembered that in fitting up a camp 
 in the manner supposed in the table above, the 
 health-seeker will have not a little to show at the end 
 of the season in the line of equipments. If he de- 
 cides to remain through a second or third summer, 
 comparatively little money will need to be added to 
 the original outlay. On the other hand, if he is able 
 to go out of the woods at the end of his first season, 
 he can easily dispose of all his camp adjuncts at a 
 fair price. 
 
 Although anything like a precise calculation of the 
 amount of money which might be spent in this wil- 
 derness experiment would be as impossible to make 
 
144 THE WILDERNESS CUBE. 
 
 as it would to determine the sum Sinbad might 
 have spent in those years which intervened between 
 his rash demand for the roc's egg and his happy 
 death, nevertheless, an approximation to the possible 
 extravagance of life in the woods may properly be 
 added. And here it is : 
 
 Maximum Cost of a Camp for Two Persons, and 
 Guides, for Four Months. 
 
 Canvas tents, . . . . $100 00 
 Building camp, . . . 250 00 
 
 Equipments, .... 250 00 
 "Wages, live men and one woman 
 
 (all "guides"), . . . 1,200 00 
 Running expenses, . * . . 500 00 
 
 62,300 00 
 
 Here, of course, the "maximum" is that of the 
 probable, not by any means of the possible. The 
 Count of Monte Christo might fashion his tent of 
 camel's-hair, and floor his bark cabins with the cedar 
 of Lebanon. Pie might spend as much money in the 
 woods as in Paris ; but he would not recover his 
 health any the quicker for that. The maximum esti- 
 mate presumes extravagance, but it does not exceed 
 the actual outlay which has been made by campers- 
 out in the Adirondacks. 
 
 So much for the cost of one part of the wilderness 
 experiment. For the other — the winter residence — 
 it may easily be shown that the cost of living is con- 
 
THE COST OF THE THING. 145 
 
 siderably less than at the long-established health re- 
 sorts ; while to the person willing to economize, it is 
 a simple matter to materially reduce the amount 
 usually expended by health-seekers. 
 
 In Saranac Lake, superior accommodation may 
 be had for $20 a week for two persons. The smaller 
 houses fix their prices at from $14 to $16 per wee'k 
 for two. In Bloomingdale, fair board can be ob- 
 tained anywhere from $12 to $20 per week, while in 
 the farm-houses scattered over the country, the win- 
 ter sojourner may find a home for the price — little 
 or much — he is able to pay. His own experience in 
 this matter was so pleasant, that it may naturally 
 prejudice the writer in favor of farm-house board ; 
 but others, less fortunate in the selection of a place, 
 might find it wearisome. 
 
 But the winter may be passed in the woods at a 
 much smaller outlay than boarding in any way ne- 
 cessitates. Let us take up our mechanic again, who, 
 with the coming of the keen November days, finds 
 the promise of recovery already half -fulfilled. What- 
 ever sacrifice a continued stay may call for, he must 
 not think of leaving the woods now. All his prog- 
 ress will come to naught if he refuses to give nature 
 'time to work out her miracles in her own way. Six 
 or seven months longer and he may go back with a 
 twenty years' lease of life. It is worth some pinch- 
 ing to get a grip on a lease of that sort. So the man 
 who is absolutely poor puts the thoughts of board 
 out of his mind, rents a small house a mile perhaps 
 from his camp, furnishes it with the equipments of 
 7 
 
146 THE WILDERNESS CUKE. 
 
 the latter, and such additional articles as he can make 
 with his own hands, and is prepared to brave the 
 winter in comfort and independence. A house with 
 enough room to decently accommodate two, or even 
 four persons, can be rented for $2 a month. It is a 
 backwoods house to be sure, most likely of logs, but 
 still inhabitable — a palace to the tenement prisons of 
 New York. It is lacking all modern nuisances. The 
 atmosphere within it may be kept almost as pure and 
 fresh as that outside. An abundance of wood for 
 fuel to keep two stoves roaring through the cold sea- 
 son can be bought for $10, or for something less than 
 a dollar a cord. Here, then, are the two important 
 items of shelter and fuel provided for at a total out- 
 lay of $24 for the full seven months. In the matter 
 of food, a plain, nourishing, abundant diet can be 
 furnished for two persons at an expense of $4 a week. 
 This would allow of good bread and butter, mutton, 
 beef, sausages, ham, fish, potatoes, beans, peas, tur- 
 nips, cabbages, milk, all in generous quantities, and 
 with now and then some dainty from the outer- world 
 market. Allow twenty-five cents a week for light, 
 another twenty -five for a good daily newspaper, and 
 fifty for the heathen — or tobacco. This gives us a 
 total, w T ith the house-rent and fuel, of something over 
 $6 a week for all ordinary household expenditures ! 
 
 Where, the country over, can the mechanic and 
 his wife live for less than that ? 
 
 If it shall seem to the general reader that this 
 matter of cost has been entered into with too great 
 minuteness of detail, let it charitably be remembered 
 
THE COST OF THE THING. 147 
 
 that in a large number of cases it is the question 
 which must determine the invalid's course. We 
 should not all be rich, even if the bricks which pave 
 Boston were turned suddenly to gold. There would 
 be plenty of bricks, but we could not all get to Bos- 
 ton. So when Hope points the way to the weary 
 victim of wasting disease, but points always and only 
 to those distant heights he can never mount, what 
 a solace is it to know that others more lucky have 
 found the treasure he coveted, but could not seek ? 
 Here, in the vast wilderness, that treasure may be 
 searched for anew. And this little book will have 
 fulfilled its modest mission if it carries aught of aid, 
 or cheer, or comfort to the sick. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Although nearly everything necessary for the 
 building and equipping of a camp has been men- 
 tioned in the preceding pages, it may, nevertheless, 
 be a convenience to the reader if the essential ar- 
 ticles are grouped together under a single heading. 
 First, then, for the 
 
 Necessities. 
 
 1 cook-stove. 
 
 1 tent-stove, with at least four lengths of pipe. 
 
 1 tea-kettle. 
 
 1 iron pot, for boiling. 
 
 1 broiler, for meat. 
 
 1 baking-pan. 
 
 1 frying-pan. 
 
 1 coffee-pot. 
 
 Heavy stone-ware crockery, number of pieces to be 
 determined by number of persons. 
 
 6 tin pails, from two to sixteen quarts in size. 
 
 Knives and forks, spoons, and carving-knife and 
 fork. 
 
150 APPENDIX. 
 
 6 tin cnps. 
 
 6 tin bread-pans of different sizes. 
 
 2 market-baskets. 
 
 4 candlesticks. 
 
 1 lantern. 
 
 1 hatchet. 
 
 1 axe f 
 
 1 hammer. 
 
 1 hand-saw. 
 
 "With regard to the provisions and stores, the 
 amount to be expended will, as has already been in- 
 timated, depend largely upon the taste and means of 
 the camper-ont. The subjoined tables may serve to 
 convey an approximate idea of what will be needed. 
 
 A Minimum Estimate. 
 
 Flour, 1 bag. 
 
 Sugar, 20 pounds. 
 
 Yeast, or yeast cakes. 
 
 Baking-powder. 
 
 Salt, pepper, etc. 
 
 Potatoes. 
 
 Salt pork. 
 
 Tea and coffee. 
 
 Indian-meal. 
 
 Beans. 
 
 Candles — kerosene, or both. 
 
 Matches — a goodly supply. 
 
 Crackers. 
 
APPENDIX. 151 
 
 To the above list, if one cares to give himself a 
 little larger variety of food and some additional com- 
 forts, may be added the following, which we will call 
 
 A Moderate Estimate. 
 All that is contained nnder the minimum estimate. 
 1 dozen canned tomatoes. 
 1 dozen canned corn. 
 1 dozen canned fruit to suit the taste. 
 Ham. 
 
 1 dozen chickens (to be bought alive and kept in 
 camp). 
 
 •| dozen boxes sardines. 
 Pressed corn-beef. 
 Cheese. 
 Dried beef. 
 Lager-beer.* 
 
 To those who may desire a still more varied menu, 
 here is a list which may be helpful in making out 
 the schedule of stores. 
 
 A Luxurious Estimate. 
 All that is contained under the preceding heads. 
 Canned lobster, salmon, shrimps, etc. 
 Clam-chowder, pickled oysters, chow-chow, etc. 
 
 * So many consumptive patients take lager-beer regularly, 
 under advice of their physicians, that it is regarded almost a ne- 
 cessity in their diet. The writer found it a great saving to buy 
 his lager by the keg in Plattsburg and bottle it in camp. It kept 
 excellently buried in the sand. Empty bottles can be had at the 
 hotel. 
 
152 APPENDIX. 
 
 Canned soups, turtle, chicken, beef, etc. 
 
 Potted meats. 
 
 Canned fruits and vegetables to suit taste. 
 
 Olives, pickles and relishes to taste. 
 
 Wine. 
 
 With regard to milk, butter, and eggs, these, as 
 has been heretofore suggested, may best be procured 
 of the nearest farmer. 
 
 As to the quantity of provisions to be taken into 
 camp, the invalid must, of course, use his own dis- 
 cretion. If there be but two in the party with the 
 guide, enough of the staple articles to last a fort- 
 night will do to begin with. After a little experience 
 it may be advantageous to buy on a larger scale. 
 
 I have already sought to point out what is and 
 what is not necessary in the way of wearing apparel. 
 All advice on this may be epitomized in a single 
 sentence : — Take as little as you can consistent with 
 comfort, and let that little be all available. Plenty 
 of woollen and flannel, either for man or woman, is 
 the golden rule. 
 
 The reader has fully discovered that this little vol- 
 ume is not a sportsman's book ; but as many a 
 patient may be strong enough to amuse himself with 
 gun and rod, I append the following 
 
 Sporting Outfit. 
 One rifle (a shotgun is of no use, except for par-, 
 tridge-hunting, and a rifle answers equally well even 
 for that). 
 
APPENDIX. 153 
 
 Ammunition, a moderate supply. You can refill 
 your cartridge-box any time at the hotel. 
 
 One fly-rod. If you choose you can buy it in the 
 wilderness ; or, if you are a beginner, you may save ' 
 some considerable loss by learning to cast a fly with 
 a tamarack pole, which can be cut anywhere. i 
 
 One landing-net. 
 
 An assortment of flies. 
 
 "With regard to these last, I cannot do better than 
 quote the advice of the Rev. Mr. Murray, who ought 
 to be an authority on trout-fishing. . He says : " Take 
 of hackles six each, of black, red, and brown. Let 
 the flies be made on hooks from Eos. 3 to 1, Lim- 
 erick size. In addition to the hackles, take six Can- 
 ada flies, six green drakes, six red ibis, six small sal- 
 mon flies, and, if in the fall of the year, six English 
 bluejay and six gray drake." 
 
 The cost of the above fishing outfit ought not to 
 exceed $25.