4 ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~         ~~~      ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~l1 
M.,tin," shouted/ 1  " hlng on; tht' y ur deer. I  i1  l   ar
ZI c 7, , 
OR,
CAMlP-LIFE lIN TIIE A-DIROINDACKS,
WVILLIAM 11. H. MIURRAY.
"The moutanscal yott, a.d the   le
The2 woods, th~e.tcao,antahaI~iesd                    cz
That fans, tlhu, ce-nttio' ky,."
Ai,,,i'TRoNG'.'  4,-,fGeezi~   lac
I;". I",,, I~LL &"EiA'A -i l O.VS
I') 0S lO N
DE WOLFPE, FISKE & CO.
36I  AND  365 WASI,INGTON  STR-FEET
BY 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by
FIET,DS, OSGOOD,  & CO.
LI the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts 
To my friend and companion, 0. H. PLATT, of Meriden,
Conn., with whom I have passed many happy hours by
mountain  and streain, and shared the sportsman's triumph and the sportsman's toil; in memory of many a
tramp and midnight bivouac, and as a token of my very
sincere regard and friendship, this book is affectionately
dedicated.
W. H. H. M.
BOsTON, April, 1869. 
NEW ROUTE TO TIIE ADIRONDACKS.
N page 42  of this work  the author  com      m enids the Keeseville route to parties entering' thie wildernless  iroml Lake Champlain.  Since
its pul)lication, informnation has  reached him of
sulch a natnre as to induce the reconmmendation
of the Plattsburg route as well.
The  latter  is  comparatively  an  easy  route.
From Plattsburg cars run to Point of RPocks  (or
Ausable Forks), intersecting the Keeseville road,
and  saving some  sixteen  miles of unpleasant
sta,ging' from  Port  Kent.   At  Fouquet's Hotel,
Plattsburg, every  facility for rest  and  preparation can be had.  At Point of Ptocks parties can
arrainge to meet their means  of conveyance to
Alartin's, Smith's, Bartlett's, and other houses at
St. I'egis.
Invalids, or persons not in robust health, who
may venture upon this trip, will find Plattsburg
a pleasant and convenient place for recuperationii
before cutting  loose from all the amenities of
civilization.
The author w\ould particularly advise all parties, before starting, to engag,e by letter coniveyance from Point of Pocks to their destinatioi.
I 
CONTENTS.
PAGR
.    7
INTRODUCTION 
CHAP.
I.
TIIE WILDERNESS.
Why I go to the Wilderness.
Sporting Facilities..
What it costs in the Wilderness
Outfit.....
Where to buy Tackle.
Guides....
How to get to thle Wil(lerness
Hotels.....
When to visit the Wildlerness
Healthfulness of Camp Life.
What Sections of the Wilderne
Black Flies...
Mosquitoes...
Ladies' Outfit..~
Wild Animals.. 
Provisions
Bill of Fare..~
II. TIE NAMELESS CREEK
III. RUNNING THE RAPIDS.
IV. THE BALL..
0
9
15
21
26
30
32
40
44
43
50
52
55
5()
58
60
62
62
v...   65
*. *       *. 75
.... 86 
CONTENTS.
LOON-SHOOTING IN A THUNDER-STORM.
CROSSING THE CARRY....
ROD AND REEL.....
PHANTOH FALLS........
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGIT.
SABBATH IN THE WOODS....
A RIDE WITH A MIAD HORSE IN A FREIGIIT
CAR......
APPENDIX.
BEACH'S SIGHT.
vi
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XI.
. 101
114
. 126
141
. 168
193
203
233
I 
INTROD U CTION.
EVERAL  of  the  chapters  composing  this
volume were originally published in the
"Ieriden Literary Recorder," during the fall and
winter of 1867.  Through it they received a wide
circulation, and brought to the author many letters from all parts of the country, urging him to
continue the series, and, when completed, publish
them in a more permanent form.  Lawyers, physicians, clergymen, and sporting men were united
for once in the expression of a common desire.
Not a few delightful acquaintances were made
through this medium.  It was suggested by these
unseen friends, that such a series of descriptive
pieces, unencumbered with the ordinary reflections and jottings of a tourist's book, free from
the slang of guides, and questionable jokes, and
bear stories," with which works of a similar
character have to a great extent been filled, would
be gladly welcomed by a large number of people
who, born in the country, and familiar in boyhood with the gun and rod, still retain, in un 
IN\TRODUCTION.
diminished freshness and vigor, their early love
for manly exercises and field sports. Each article,
it was urged, should stand alone by itself, having
its own framework of timne and character, and
representing a single experience. The favorable reception the articles thus published received, and the
cordial communications from total strangers which
they elicited, together with a strong,, ever-present
desire on my part to encourage manly exercise in
the open air, and familiarity with Nature in her
wildest and grandest aspects, persuaded mile into
concurrence with the su,ggestion.  The composition of these articles has furnished me, amid grave
and arduous labors, with mental recreation, from
time to time, almost equal to that which I enjoyed
when passing through the experiences which they
are intended to describe.
In the hope that what I have written may contribute to the end suggested, and prove a source
of pleasure to many who, like myself, were " I)orn
of lLhunter's breed and blood," and who, pent up ill
narrow offices and narrower studies, weary of the
city's din, long for a breath of mountain air and
the free life by field alnd flood, I subscribe myself
their friend and brother.
8
I 
I.
THE WILDERNESS.
WHY I GO THERE, - HOW I GET THERE, - WHAT 1
DO THERE,- AND WHAT IT COSTS.
T HE   Aclirondlack WVilderness, or the "North
V,oods," as it is somietimes called, lies betweeni the Lakes  Georg,e anld  Claimplain on the
east, acnd the river St. Lawrence  on  the north
and west.  It reachles nortlhward as fa,r as  the
Canadla line, aclnd sontliward to Booneville.   Its
area is about  thlat of thle State of Coinnecticut.
The southern part is known as the Brown Tract
Region,  with whiclt  thle wlhole  wvilderness  by
some is conlfused, but with 11o more accuracy thlan
any one county mi,ht be  said  to  coml)rise  an
entire State. Indleedl, " Browii's Tract " is the least
interestinig portio  of thle Adirondack region.  It
lacks the lofty mountain  seniery, the intricate
meshi-work of lakes, and thle wild grandeur of the
country to the north.  It is the lowland district,
comparatively tame  aind  uninviting.  Not  until
you reach the Pacquette do you get a glimpse of
the magnificent scenery wilicil makes this wilderness  to ri-al Switzerind   Tlhere, on  the very
I * 
10      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
ridge-boarcl of the vast water-sled which slopes
northwar(  to the St. Lawrence, eastward to the
Htidson, (uid southward to the Mohawk, you can
enter upon a voyage the like of whichl, it is safe
to say, the world does not anyvwhere else furnish.
For hundreds of miles I have boated up and down
that wilderness, going  ashore only  to "carry"
aroLund a fall, or across some narrow ridge dividing the otherwise connected lakes. For weeks I
have  paddled  my  cedar shell in all directions,
swaing(ing northerly into the St. Regis chain, westward nearly to Potsdam, southerly to the Black
River country, and fromn thence penetrated to that
almost unvisited region, the "South Branch," without seeing a face bult my guide's, and the entire
circuit, it must be rememnbered, was through a
wilderness yet to echo to the lumbermuan's axe.
It is estimated that a thousand lakes, many yet
unvisited(, lie embedded in this vast forest of pine
and henlock.  From the summit of a mountain,
two years ago, I counted, as seen by my naked
eye, forty-four lakes gleanring, amid the depths
of the wilderness like gems of purest ray amid the
folds of emierald-coloredl velvet.  Last summer I
met a gentleman on the Pacquette who had just
received a litter from a brother in Switzerland, an
artist by profession, in which he said, that, "having
travelled over all Switzerland,  and  the Rhine
aid Rhone region, he had not met with scenery 
WHY I GO THERE.
wlicll, judged fromn a purely artistic point of view,
comb)ined  so many beauties in connection with
suchl grandeur as the lakes, mnioutinta,ins, and forest
of the Adironldack region presented to the gazer's
eye."  And  yet thoutsands are in Europe to-day
as tourists who never gave a passing thouglit to
this marvellous country lyilng as it were at their
very doors.
Another reason why I visit the Adirondacks,
and urge others to do so, is because I deem the
excursion eminently adapted to restore impaired
health.   Indeed, it is mnarvellous what benefit
physically is often derived fromnt a trip of a few
weeks to these woods.  To  such as are afflicted
with that dire parent of ills, dyspepsia, or hleave
lurkiingi in their systemn consumnptive tendencies,
I most earnestly recommend a month's experience
among the pines.  The air which you there ilnhale
is such as can be found only in high mountainous
regions, pure, rarefied, and bracing.  The amount
of venison  steak  a consumptive will consunme
after a week's residence in that appetizing  atmoosphere is a subject of daily and  increasing
wonder.  I have known delicate ladies and fragile
school-girls, to whom all food at home was distastefuil and eating a pure matter of duty, average
a gain of a pound per day for the round trip.
This is no exaggeration, as some who will read
these lines know.  The spruce, hemlock  balsam,
11 
12      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
anid pine, which largely compose this wilderness,
yield upon the air, and especially at night, all
their curative qualities. Many a night have I
laid down upon my  bed of balsam-boughs and
been lulled to sleep by the murmur of waters
and the low sighing melody of the pines, while
the air was  laden with  the mingled perfume
of cedar, of balsam  and the water-lily.   Not a
few, far advanced in that dread disease, consumiption, have found in this wilderness renewal of life
and health.  I recall a young man, the son of
wealthy parents in New York, who lay dyillng in
that great city, attended as lie was by the best
skill that money could secure.  A  friend calling
u1pon him onie day chanced to speak of the Adirondacks, and that many had found help from a trip
to their region.  From that moment he pined for
the woods.  He insisted on what his family called
"his insane idea," that the mountain air and the
aroma of the forest would cure him.  It was his
daily request and  entreaty that he might  go.
At last his parents consented, the more readily
because the pliysicians assured them  that their
son's recovery was impossible, and his deathi a
mere matter of time. They started with him for
the north in search of life. When he arrived at
the point where he was to meet his guLide he was
too reduced to walk.  The guide seeing his condition refused to take himn into the woods, fear 
WRY I GO THERE.
ing, as he plainly expressed it, that he -would "die
on his hands."  At last another guide was  prevailed upon to serve him, not so much for the
money, as he afterwards told mne, but because he
pitied the yo-ung man, and felt that "one so near
death as he was should be gratified even in his
whims."
The boat was half filled with cedar, pine, and
balsam boughs, and the young mlan, carried in the
arms of his guide from the house, was laid at fdl
legtlih upon them.  The camip utensils were put
at one end, the guide seated himself at the other,
and the little boat passed with the living and the
dying down the lake, and was lost to the group
watching them amid  the islands to the south.
This was in early June.  The first week the guide
carried the young man on his back over all the
portages, lifting himn ill and out of the boat as he
might a child.  But the healing properties of the
balsam and pine, which were his bed by day and
nig,ht, began to exert their power.   Awake  or
asleep, he inhaled their fragrance.  Their pungent
and healing odors penetrated  his diseased and
irritated lungs.  The second day out his  cough
was less sharp and painful. At the end of the
first week he could walk by leaning on the paddle. The second week he needed no support.
The third week the coug,h ceased entirely. From
that time he improved with wonderful rapidity.
13 
14      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
Ile "went in" the first of June, carried in the
arms of his guide.  The second week of November he "came out" bronzed as an Indian, and as
hlearty.  In five months he had gained sixty-five
pounds of fleshl, and flesh, too, "well packed oni,"
as they say in the woods.  Coming out hle carried the boat over all portages; the very same
over whlich a few monthls before the guide hlad
carried him, and pulled as strolng an oar as any
amateur in the wilderness.  His meeting  with
his family I leave the read(ler to inmagine.  The
wilderness received him almost a corpse.  It returned him to his home and the world as hliappy
and healthy a man as ever bivouacked under its
pines.
This, I am aware, is an extreme case, and, as
such, may seem  exaggerated; but it is not.  I
might instance miany other cases which, if less
startling, are equally corroborative of the general
statement. There is one sitting near me, as I
write, the color of whose  chleek, and the clear
brightness of whose eye, cause my heart to go out
in ceaseless gratitude to the woods, amid which
she found that health and strength of which they
are the proof anid sign.  For five summners have
we visited the wvil(leriess.  From four to seven
weeks, each year, have we breathed the breath of
the mouLntains; bathed in the waters which sleep
at their base; and made our couch at night of
I 
SPORTING FACILITIES.
moss and balsam-boughs, beneath the whispering
trees. I feel, therefore, that I am able to speak
from experience touching this matter; and I believe that, all things being considered, no portion
of our country surpasses, if indeed any equals, in
health-giving qualities, the Adirondack Wilderness.
SPORTING FACILITIES.
This wilderness is often called the "Sportsman's
Paradise "; and so I hold it to be, when al1 its advantages are taken into account.  If any one goes
to the Northli Woods, expecting to see droves of deer,
he will return disappointed.  He can find them
west and north, around Lake Superior, and on the
Plains; but nowhere east of the Alleglanies.  Or
if one expects to find trout averaging three or four
pounds, eager to break surface, lno matter where or
when he casts his fly, he will come back from his
trip a " sadder and a wiser man."   If this is his
idea of what constitutes a "sportsman's paradise,"
I advise him not to go to the Adirondacks. D)eer
and trouit do not abound there in any such numbers: and yet there are enough of both to satisfy
any reasonable expectation. Gentlemen often ask
me  to compare the "North Woods"  with the
" MAaine Wilderness." The fact is, it is difficult to
make any comlparison between the two sections,
15
.1 
16      At)VENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
they are so unlike.  But I am willing to give my
reasons of preference for the Adirondacks.   The
facet is, nothing could induce  ime to visit Maine.
If I was goitig east at all, 1 should keep on, nor
stop uintil I reached the Proviilices.  I could never
bring mly mind to pass a  imontht il Mlainle, with
the North Woods witllin forty-eig,hlt hours of mie.
I will tell you  whiy.  Go  where  you will,  in
MIaiie, the lItailt'i-iLci lave been before you; m(i
luml)erInen are the curse and scourg,e of the wilderniess.  WTherever the axe soiunds, the pride aind
beauty of the forest disappear.  A  lumnibered district is the most dreary and dismal re,,iiol the eye
of man  ever beheld.   The  mtiounItains are not
merely shlorn of trees, but from base to summit
fires, kindled by accident or malicious purpose,
have  swept their sides, leaving  the blackened
rocks exposed to the eye, and here and there a few
unsightly trunks leaning in all directions, from
which all the branches aind green foliage have been
burnt awAay.   The  stream s  and  trout-pools  are
choked with saw-dust, and filled with slabs and
logs.  The rivers are blockaded with  "booms"
and lodged timber, stamped all over the ends with
the owner's " mark." Every eligible site for a
camp  has been  appropriated;  and bones, offal,
horse-maLure, and  all the debris of a deserted
lLimberlinen's village is strewn around, offensive
both to eye and nose.  The hills and shores are
I 
SPORTING FACILITIES.
littered with rotten wood, in all stages of decoiii position, emitting a damp, mouldy odor, and selll i,(,, forth countless millions of flies, gnats, and inos qtuitoes to prey uiponI you.  Now, no number of
dleer, no quantities of trout, can entice me to such
a locality.  He who fancies it can go; not I.  Iii
the Adirondack Wilderness you escape this. There
the lumberman  has never been.   No  axe has
so,unded along its mountain-sides, or echoed across
its peaceful waters.  The forest stands as it has
stood, from the beginnin(, of time, in all its majesty of growtl, il all the beauty of its unshorn
foliage.  No fires hase blackened  the hills; no
logs obstruct the rivers; no saw-dust taints  and
colors its crystal waters.  The promontories which
stretch themselves half across its lakes, the islands
which hang as if suspecnded inii their waveless and
translucent dclepthls,  hlave never been marred by
the presence of men careless of all but gain.  You
choose the locality which best suits your eye, and
build your lodge iunder unscarred trees, and upon
a carpet of moss, untramopled by mnan or beast.
There you live in silence, unbroken by any sounds
save such as you yourself may make, away fromn
all the business and cares of civilized life.
Another reason of my preference for the Adirondack region is based upon the Tode and manner in
which your sporting is done.  Now I do not plead
guilty to the vice of laziness. If necessary, I can
17
]II
I 
is       ADVE\ENTITERFS IN THE WILDERNESS.
w-ork, and work sharply; but I have no special
loue for labor, in itself considered; and certain
kinids of work, I amn free to confess, I abhor; and
if there is onlie kind of work whlich I detest more
thani anothler, it is t)c'tiny;  and,  above  all,
tramping through a lulmbered district.  How  the
thorns lacerate you!  iHow the brambles tear your
clothes and pierce your flesh! How  the mieshwork of fallen tree-tops entangles you! I would
nlot walk two miles thlroug,h suchi a country for all
the trout that swimi; and as for ever castillng a
fly fitoni the slippery surface of an old mill-danm,
no one ever saw mne do it, nor ever will.  I do niot
say that some may not find  amiusement in  it.
I only knlow that I could not.  Now, in the North
WVoods, owing to their m-arvellous water-comnmunication, you do all your sporting from your boat.
If you w\isl to go one or ten miles for a "fish," your
guide paddles you to the spot, and serves you while
yolu hanidle the rod.  This takes from recreation
every trace of toil.  You have all the excitement of
sporting, w\ithout any attending physical weariness.
And what luxury it is to course along the shores
of tlhese secluded lakes, or glide down the winding
reaches of these rivers, overhung by the outlying
pines, and fringed with water-lilies, mingling their
fra(ran.ce with the odors of cedar and balsam! To
ne this is better than trawlmping.  I have sported
a imonth at a time, without walking as many miles 
SPORTING FACILIrIES.
as there were weeks in the month. To my mind,
this peculiarity elevates the Adirondack  region
above all its rivals, East or West, and more than all
else justifies its otherwise pretentious claim as a
"Sportsman's Paradise." In beauty of scenery, in
healthi-giving qualities, in the easy and romantic
manner of its sporting, it is a paradise, and so will
it continue to be while a deer leaves his track
upon the shores of its lakes, or a trout shows
himnself above the surface of its waters.  It is this
peculiarity also which makes an excursion to this
section so easy and delightful to ladies. There is
nothing in the trip whiel  the most delicate and
fragile need fear. And it is safe to say, that, of all
who go into the woods, none enjoy the experiences
more than ladies, and certain it is that none are
more benefited by it.
But what about amcte, I hear the reader inquire.
Are  deer plenty?  Is the fishing good?  Well,
I reply, every person has his own standard by
which to measure a locality, and therefore it is
difficult to answer with precision.  Moreover, it
is not alone the presence of game which makes
good sporting. Many other considerations, such
as the skill of the sportsman, and the character
and ability of the guide, enter into this problem
and make the solution difficult.  A poor shot, and
a green hand at the rod, will have poor success
anywhere, no matter how good the sporting is;
19 
20      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
and I have known parties to be "starved out,"
where other men, with better guides, were meeting
withli royal success.  With a guide who  unlderstands his business. I would undertake to feed a
party of twenty persons the season through, and
seldom  should they sit down to a meal lacking
either trout or venison.  I passed six weeks on
the Racquette last sunmmer, and never, save at one
meal, failed to see both of the two delicious articles of diet on my table.  Generally speaking, no
inconvenience is experienced in this  direction.
Always observing the rule, not to kill more than
the camp can eat, which a true sportsman never
transgresses,  I lhave  paddled  past  more  deer
within easy range than I ever lifted mny rifle at.
The same is true in reference to trout.  I have
unjointed my rod when the water was alive with
leaping fishl, and experienced more pleasure as I
sat and saw them rise for food or play, than any
thoughtless violator of God's laws  could feel in
wasting the stores which Nature so bountifilly
opens for our need.  I am not in favor of "game
laws," passed for the most part in the interest of
the few and the rich, to the deprivation of the
poor and the many, but I would that fine and
imprisonment both might be the punishment of
him who, in defiance of every -humanlae instinct
and reverential feeling, out of mere love for
"sport," as some are pleased to call it, directs a 
WHAT IT COSTS.
ball or hooks a fish when no necessity delmands
it.  Such rutthle,ss destructionl of life is sl(whtcr,coarse, cruel, unjustifiable  butheiry.  Palliate it
who may, practise it who  can, it is just that and
nothing short.  To sum up what I have thus far
written, I say to all brother sportsnien, that, all
things considered, the sporting, both with rifle and
rod, in the Northl WAoods is good,- good enough
to satisfy any reasonable desire.  In this, please
remember that I refer to the wilderness proper,
and not to the lumbered and inhabited and therefore over-huttnte(  borders  of it.  I have  known
parties to take board at North Elba, or Malone, or
Luzerne, and yet insist that they "had been into
the Adirondacks."
WHAT  IT COSTS.
This I know to sonme is a matter of no interest
at all, but to others, among whom, unfortunately,
the writer must number himself, it is a matter
of vital importance. The committee on "ways
and means " in our "house " is the most laborious
of all, and the six years a little woman has held
the chairmanship of it has made her exceedingly
cautious and conservative.  Some very interesting debates occur before this committee, and nodemur on the part of the defeated party, as I have
21
I 
22      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
often found, can change the unalterable decision.
What is true in the case of the writer is largely
true in respect to the majority of the profession
to which he belongs. Yet it is in the ministry
that you find the very men who would be the
most benefited by this trip.  Whether they should
go as sportsmen or tourists, or in both capacities, a
visit to the North Woods could not fail of giving
them precisely such a change as is most desirable,
and needed by them. In the wilderness they
would find that perfect relaxation which all jaded
minds require. In its vast solitude is a total
absence of sights and sounds and duties, which
keep the clergyman's brain and heart strung up,
the long year through, to an intense, unnatural,
and often fatal tension. There, from a thousand
sources of invigoration, flow into the exhausted
mind and enfeebled body currents of strength and
life. There sleep woos you as the shadows deepen
along the lake, and retains you in its gentle embrace until frightened away by the guide's merry
call to breakfast.  You would  be astonished to
learn, if I felt disposed to tell you, how many consecutive hours a certain minister sleeps during
the first week of his annual visit to the woods!
Ah me, the nights I have passed in tihe woods!
How they haunt me with their sweet, suggestive
memories of silence and repose! How harshly the
steel-shod hoofs smite against the flinty pavement 
WHAT  IT  COSTS.
beneath iny  vwiidow-, aid clashl with rudle iiterruptionIs upoi  miy ear as I sit recalling the tranquil hours I lihave spent  )eneatli the trees! AWiat
restful slumber  was mineie; a(l inot less gently
than the close of day itself di(4  it fall upon  ine,
as I stretched myself upon  lily bed of  )alsatmboug(h,s, with Rover at my side, not twenty feet
firom  the shore wvhere thle ripples  were I)laying
coyly withl the sandl, and lulled by the low mionotone of the piiics, wAiho —;e bralcies were lily only
shelter fromi  tihe dew which  gatlered like genms
upon their spear-like stems, sank, as a falling, star
fades from silght, into forgetfulness.  And then the
waking! Thle air fresi withl the aroma of the
wilderness.  The morning bilowiilng its perfumed
breezes into your face.  Tihe drip, drip  of the
odorous gum  in the branches overhead, and the
colors of russet, of orang,e, and of gold streaking
the eastern sky.  After three or four niglts of
suich slumber, the sleeper realizes the force and
beauty of the great poet's apostrophe,
"Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast."
If every church would make  up  a purse, and
pack its worn and weary pastor off to the
Xorth WAVoods for a four weeks' jaunt, in the
hot months of July and August, it would do a
23
I 
24      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
very sensible as well as pleasant act.  For when
the good  dominie  came  back swartli anid tougi
as an Indian, elasticity in his step), fire in his eye,
depth and clearness in his reinvigorated voice,
wouldn't there be some  preaching!  And what
texts hle would have from whlich to talk to the
little folks in the  Sabbatlhi school! How  their
bright eyes would open and enlarge as he narrated
his adventures,  and told thiem  how  the good
Father feeds the fish that swiiu, and clothlies the
mink and beaver with their warm and sheeny fur.
The preacher sees God in the original there, and
often translates him better from his unwritten
works than from his written word.  He will get
more  instructive  spiritual material  from  such
a trip than from  all the "Sabbath-school festivals" and "pastoral tea-parties" with which the
poor, smiling creature was ever tormented. It is
astonishing how much a loving, spiritually-minded
people can bore their minister. If I had a spite
against  aly  clerical  brother, and  felt wicked
enough to inidulge it, I would get his Sabbathschool superintendent, a female  city missionary,
and several "local visitors," with an agent of some
WTestern college thrown in for variety, and set
them all on to him!
" But how mtuch does it cost to take such a
trip?" I hear some good deacon inquire;" perlhaps
we may feel disposed to take your advice." 
WHAT' IT COSTS.
Well, I will tell you;  and I  shall make  a
liberal estimate, for I do not think it hurts a
minister to travel in comfortable style any mnore
than it does AIr. Farewell  and  Brother Haveenough.  And if ihe shall chiance  to find a tendollar greenback in his vest-pocket after he has
reachled home  it will not coime amiss, I warrant
you.
I estimate the cost thus:  Guide-hire, $ 2.50 per day; board for self and
g,uide while in the woods, $ 2.00 each per week;
miscellanies (here is where the ten-dollar greenbacks come in), $ 25.00.
If he feels disposed to take a companion, he can
do so (many go in couples), and thereby divide
the cost of guide-hire,  making  it only $ 1.25
per day.  But I would not advise one to do this,
especially if his expenses are paid. Fifty dollars
wvill pay one's travelling expenses both ways,
from Boston to the Lower Saranac Lake, where
you can meet your guide.  From New  York the
expense is about the same.  It is safe to say that
one hundred and twenty-five dollars will pay all
the expenses of a trip of a month's duration in the
wilderness.   I know of no other excursion in
which such a smnall sum of monoey will return
such per cent in health, pleasure, and profit.
2
25
I 
ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
O UT F IT.
There is no one rule by which to be governed
in this respect.  Personal tastes anl means control one ill this matter. Generally speaking, outfits
are too elaborate and cumbersome.  Some men go
into the woods as if they were to pass the winter
witlinl the polar circle, supplied witl  fur caps,
half a dozen pair of gloves, heavy overcoat, three
or fotur thick blankets, and any amount of useless iL))c'Jimtc.  Dry-goods clerks and students
seem to affect this style the most. I remember running against a pair of hluge alligator-leather boots,
leaning against a tree, one day when crossing the
Carry" from  Forked  Lake around the rapids,
and uponi examination discovered a young undergraduate of a college not a thousand miles from
Boston inside of themI.  It was about the middle
of Au(ust, and the therrmomneter  s'ood at 90~
Falhrenheit.  Somie half a mile farther on we met
the guide sweating and swearing under a pack of
blankets, rubber suits, and the like, heavy enough
to frighten a trampiiing Jew-pedler; and he declared
that "that confounded Boston fool had brought in
a bo(ot-loa( of clothcs," which we found to be nigh
to the truth when we reached the end of the
" carry," where the canoe was. Now I wish that
every reader who may  visit the  Adirondacks,
male or femnale, would  remember that a good
I 
OUTFIT.
sized valise or carpet-bag will hold all the clothes
any one person needs for a two months' trip in the
wilderness, beyond what he wears in. Be sure
to wear and take in notling, but woollen and
flannel.  The air at nig,it is often quite cool, even
in midsummner, and one must dress warmly.  The
following list comlprises the "essentials ":  Complete lundllersuit of woollen or flannel, with a
"challge."
Stout pantaloons, vest, and coat.
Felt hat.
Two pairs of stockiings.
Pair of commono  winter boots and camp shoes.
Rubber blanket or coat.
One pair pliable buckskin gloves, with chamoisskin gauntlets tied or buttoned at the elbow.
Hunting-knife, belt, and a pint tin cup.
To these are to be added a pair of warm woollen
blankets, ui)cit, and a few articles of luxury, such
as towel, soap, etc. The above is a good serviceable outfit, and, with the exception of the blankets, can readily be packed in a carpet-bag, which
is easily stowed in the boat and carried over the
"portages."  In this connection, it should be remenhbered that the Adirondack boats, while being
models of lightness and speed, are small, and will
not bear overloading.  On the average they are
some fifteen feet loing, three feet wide at the mid
dle, sharp at both  ends, some  ten  inches  deep,
27
I 
28      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
and weigh from sixty to ninety pounds.  Small
and light as these boats are, they will sustain
three men and all they really need in the way of
baggage, l)ut it is essential, as the reader can see,
that Ino unnecessary freight be taken along by a
party.  Notliin, is better calculated to make a
guide cross and sour than an over-supply of personal ba,g,a,e, and I advise all who attempt the
trip to confine  themselves  very nearly  to the
above list. They will find that it is abundant.
For sporting outfit, this will suffice:
One rifle and necessary ammu-nition.
One light, single-handed fly-rod, with "flies."
For rifles I prefer the " Ballard" or "Maynard"
Among  breech-loaders.   No  shot-guns  should be
taken.  They are a nuisance and a pest.
In respect to "flies," do not overload your
book.  This is a good assortment:
Hackles, black, red, and brown, six each.
Avoid small hooks and imported "French flies."
Let the "flies" be made on hooks from Nos. 3
to 1, Limerick size.
All "fancy flies" discard. They are good for
nothing generally,  niless it be to show to your
lady friends.  In addition to tie " Hackles,"
Canada fly (6),- an  excellent fly.
Green drake (6).
Red ibis (6).
Small salmon flies (6), -best of all. 
OUTFIT.
If in the fall of the year, take
Eng(lish blue-jay (6).
Gray drake (6), - good.
Last, but not least, a larg,e, stoutly woven landinm-net.
This is enoughl.  I know that whlat I say touchy
ing the salmon flies will astonish some, but I do
not hesitate to assert that with two dozen small
sized salmon flies I should feel myself well provided for a six weeks' sojourn in the wilderness.
Of course you can add to the above list many
serviceable flies; my own book is stocked with a
dozen dozens of all sizes and colors, but the above
is a good practical outfit, and all one really needs.
If you are unaccustomed' to "fly fishing," and
prefer to "grub it" with ground bait (and good
sport can be had with bait fishiing too), get two or
three dozens shlort-shlanked, good-sized hooks, hand
tied to strong crcca,t-colored snells, and you are
well provided.  If you can find worms, they make
the best bait; if not, cut out a strip from a chub,
and, loading your line with shot, yank it along
throughi the water some foot or more under the surface, as when fishing for pickerel.  I have had trout
liany times rise and take such a bait, even when
skittcrecd along on the top of the water. To every
fly-fisher any advice is, be sure and take plenty of
casting-'ines.   Have  some six, others nine feet
loing   There are lines made out of "sea  snell."
29
I 
30      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
These are the best. Never select a bright, glistening  gut.  Always  search for the creamy lookiing
ones. The entire outfit need not cost (rod excepted)  over  ten  dollars,  and  for all  practical
purposes is as good as one costing a hunidred.
WAHERE TO BUY TACKLE.
InNew Yoirk, go to Conroy, Bissett, & Malleson,
Fulton Street.  This house is noted for its rods.
-No better singl,e-hanided fly-rod can be had than
you can obtain at Conroy's.  A rod of three pieces,
twelve  feet  long, and weighilig from  nine  to
twelve  oiunces,  is my  favorite.   A  fasliion has
sprung up to fasten the reel on close to the butt,
so that when casting you must needs grip the rod
above the reel.  This is a great error in construction.  Never buy one thus made.  The reel should
be good eight inches from the butt, and thlius
leave plenty of hand-room below it.  At Conroy's you can obtain such a rod, brass mnounted,
for some fifteen dollars; in German-silver mountings, for seventeen.  At other houses, for the very
same or an inferior article I have been charged
from twenvty to twenty-five dollars.  The first rod
I ever bought at Conroy's, somie six years ago,
was a brass-niounted one, such as described above,
which I used constantly for four years, but which
I saw, on an evil day, go into four pieces, in a 
WHERE TO BUTY TACKLE,.
narrow creek, lwhen I g,ave the butt to two large
fish in full bolt for a snalI  of tamarack-roots.
M'any a time have I seen that rod doubled  up
until the quivering tip lay over the reel.  I paid
fourteen dollars and fifty cents for it.  I would
like to pay thiree times that sunm for anothlier like
it.  If you want a rod that you can rely on, go
to Conroy's in Fulton Street and buy one of his
sibgle-handed fly-rods.
If in Boston, A\Villianm ead and Sonll's, No. 13
FaneuLil Hall Square, is a good house to deal witlh.
Being less acquainted in Boston than in New York,
I cannot speak with such directness as I can concerniing Coilroy's.  But havin, looked over  Mr.
Read's stock, I am  quite persuaded that you can
be as w-ell served with rods by him as by any
hlouse ill the country, Conroy  always  excepted.
If I was buying in Boston, for miy rod I should
go to Readcl's.  InI respect to price, I am inclined
to think that hie sells the sam,e class of rods cheaper
than the New York house.  I saw somne rods at Mr.
Read's the other day for tweclve clollc(trs, equal in all
respects, so far as I could see, (and I tested them
thlorough,ly,) to the rods for which Conroy charges
fifteen  dollars.  At  the  sanme  time  I examined
some split bamboo rods, price twenty-five dollars,
for which many dealers in fishing-tackle, in New
York, and perhaps some inii Boston, would be likely
so demand nearly twice that suin.  Of course this
31
I 
32      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
firm is too well known  to the sporting world fol
me to menition thlat, for a thliorough hunting outfit,
you can do n1o better than to go to this lioase.
For flies I advise you to go to Bradforl and
Anthony, 178 W\asllington Street. I am ijnchliied to
think that this house, in quantity, style, variety,
and finish, excel even  Conroy.  I have looked
their assortment  over  carefully, anid  know  not
whlere  to find its equal.   Wherever you  buy,
never purchlase  anii imported  fly.   The  French
flies, especially, are most unreliable.   Never  put
onie inll your book.   Select only such as are tied to
soft, cream-colored snells.  The same holds good( iii
respect to casting-lines or leaders.  Beware of such
is havae a brioghlt, glassy glitter about them.  They
will fail you on your best fisl, and you will lose
lies, fish, and temper togetlier.  For your lines I
uoggest, first, last, and always, braided silk.   Berare of hfair and silk linies.  Formerly I had a
great passion  for fancy lines, but years of experience have caused inme to settle down in favtor
of the braided silk line as superior to every other.
GUIDE S.
This is tlthe most important of all considerations
to one ablout to visit the wilderness.  Ani i(gnorant,
lazy, low-bred guide is a nuisance in camp and
useless everywhere else.  A skilful, active, well 
GUIDES.
mannered guide, on the other hand, is a joy and
consolation, a source of constanit pleasure to the
vlwhole party. Withl an ig(norant guide you will
starA'e; with a lazy one you will lose your temper;
with a low-bred fellow you can have no comfort.
Fortunate in the selection of your guide, you will
be fortunate in everything you undertake clean
through the trip.  A  good guide, like a good wife,
is  indispensable to one's success, pleasure,  and
peace.  If I were to classify sutch guides as are
nuisances, I should place at thlie head of the list
the "witty guide."  He is forever  tal/ity. Hie
inunldates the camp with gab.  If you chance to
have company, he is continually thrusting himself
impertinently forward.  Ile is possessed from head
to foot with the idea that hlie is smart.  Hie can
never openi his mouth unless it is to air his opinions or perpetrate some stale joke. He is always
vulgar, not seldom profane.  Avoid him  as you
would tlhe plague.
Next in order comes  the  "talkative  guide."
Flie old Indian maxim, " MAuch talk, no hunt," I
have found literally verified.  A true hunter talks
little.  The habit of his skill is silence.   In camp
or afloat he is low-voiced and reticent.  I hlave
met but one exception to this rule.  I will not
name him, lest it give pain.  He is a good lihuniter
and a capital guide, in spite of his evil tendency
to gab.  This tendency is vicious in many ways.
3*                           c
88
I 
34      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
It is closely allied with that other vice,-  b1rayyin#.
Such a guide in a large party is apt to breed
dispute and difference.  He is very liable to give
the gentleman who employs him the impression
that others in the party are striving to "get ahead
of him."  Moreover, he is always interrupting you
-whlen you do not wvant to be interrupted.  Silence,
which is a luxury found only in the wilderness,
flees as his approach. Beware of the talkative
guide.
The next in order, and the last I shall mention, is the "lazy guide." Such a guide is the
most  vexatious creature you  can have around.
Nothing short of actual experience withli one can
give you an adequate impression. Now, a guide's
duties, while not absolutely laborious, are nevertlieless mnultiform.  To discharge them well, a man
should have a brisk, cheerful temperament and a
certain pride in his calling.  He should be quick,
inventive, and  energetic.   With these qualities
even ordinarily developed, a man makes a good
guide; without them he is intolerable. A lazy
guide is usually in appearance fleshy, lymphatic,
dirty, and often well advanced in years. As a
rule, avoid an old guide as you would an old horse.
His fewv years' extra experience, compared to a
younger man, cannot make good the decline of his
powvers and the loss of his ambition.  A  young,
active fellow of thirty, withli his reputation to make, 
GUIDES.
is worth twvo who are fifty and egotistical.  The
worst sight I ever saw in the woods, the exlhibition which stirred me most, was the spectacle of a
fat, lazy lout of a guide lying on his stomach, reading a dime novel, while the gentlelman who hired
hitm was building " smudges."   If he had been
my guide, I would have smudged him! The "witty," "talkative," and "lazy guide" are the three
hindrances to a party's happiness.  If you find
yourself or party burdened with either species,
admonish kindly but firmly; and if this mild application will not suffice, turn himn mercilessly adrift,
and post him by icanle on your way out, at every
camp  and hotel, as an imposition and  a pest.
Make an example of one or two, and the rest would
take the hint.   Every respectable  and  worthy
guide will thank you for it, and your conscience
will have peace as over a duty fulfilled.
For the most part the "independent  guides"
are models of skill, energy, and faithfulness.  I
say "inidependenlt," to distinguish  the class so
called from another class yelept " hotel guides."
Thle difference between the two classes is this
tie " hotel guides" are paid so imuel per month
by the hotel-keepers, and by tliem filrnished to
their boarders and such as comie unprovided.  This
system is faulty inii many respects.  The "hotel
guide" is not responsible to the party for its success, and therefore is not quickened to make his
35
I 
6   ADVEN\TUtRES IN TIIHE WILDERNESS.
best endeavor. He has no reputation to make, at
has the independent guide, for his service is secured to hiim for the season, by virtue of his connection withl the hotel.  Furthermore, the " hotel
,uilde" is often uenleployed for weekls if the seasoll is dulll; and, hangingi around a frontier hotel
in daily proxilmity to the bar, is very liable to beget that greatest of all vices in a guide,   d'cPrcss. If; on the other hand, the season is a crowded
olie,  the  proprietor  finds it difficult to secure
guides enough for his guests, and so niust needs
content himself with  men totally unfit for the
service.  Thus it often happens that a party takinig
their ogulides at the hands of the landlord finds,
when too late, that out of half a dozenii guides,
only one is capable, while the others are mere
imake-shlifts, the g,ood guide being sent along as a
teacher andl "boss " of the raw  hands.  I do not
say that there are no good guides among those
known as hotel g,uides, for there are; but as a class
they are far inferior iii character, skill, and habits
to the others.
The  independent guides, so called, are, as  a
whole, a capab)le anid noble class of men.  They
know their calling thlorouglhly, and can be relied
01on.  They have no other indorsement than such
as the parties to which they act as guides give thenm;
aud as their lchances of subsequent service depl)end
upon  their present success, they are stimulated to 
GUIDES.
the uttmost to excel. Between these and the hotel
lguides there exists a rivalry, and I might employ
a stronger term.   The independent guide feels,
and is not slow to assert, his superiority. He is
justified in doing, it.  The system of hotel guiding
is wvrong in theory and pernicious in practice.
Every guide should be immediately responsible to
the party hiring him.  His chances of future employmenet should depend upon his present success.
This is the only natural, simple, and equitable
method.   It is beneficial -to both parties.  The
sportsman is well served; and the guide, if he is
faithfiul, secures constant emnployment from season
to season.  Mlany of the best guides are engag,ed
a year in advance.
I cannot let this opportunity pass unimproved
of testifying to the capacity, skill, aid faithfulness
of a great majority of the guides  through  the
Adirondack region.  With many I am  personally
acquainted, and rejoice to number them amoing my
friends.  I have seen them under every circumstance of exposure and trial, of feasting and hunger, of health and sickness, and a more  honest,
cheerful, and patient class of men cannot be found
the world over.  Born and bred, as many of them
wvere, in this wilderness, skilled in all the lore of
woodcraft, handy with the rod, superb at the paddle, modest in demeanor and speech, hofiest to a
proverb, they deserve anlld receive the admiration
. 37
I 
38  ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
of all whlo make  their acquaintance.  Bronzed
and lhardy, fearless of danger, eager to please, uncontamiinated with the vicious habits of civilized
life, they are not uinworthy of the magnificent surroiundings amid which they dwell.  Among them
an oath is never heard, unless  in moments of
intense excitemient.  Vulgarity of speech is absolutely unknown, and theft a matter of horror and
surprise.  MAeasured by our social and intellectual
facilities, their lot is lowly and uninviting, and yet
to them there is a charm and  fascination in it.
Under the base of these overhanging mountains
they were born.   Upon the waters of these secluded lakes they lave sported from earliest boyhood.  The.wilderness has unfolded to tihem its
mysteries, and mnade them wise with a wisdom nowhere written in books. This wilderness is their
home.  Here they were born, here have they lived,
and here it is that they expect to die.  Their
graves will be mnade under the pines where in
childhood  they played, and the sounds of wind
and wave which lulled them to sleep when  boys
will swell the selfsame cadences in requiem over
thieir graves. When they have passed away, tradition wvill prolong their virtues and their fame.
I am often in reception of letters from gentlemen w-ho wish to visit the wilderness, inquiring
the names of guides to whlom they can write for
the purpose of engaging their services.  I have 
GUIDES.
beeni prompted to publish the following list in
answer to such correspondence.   I do not wish
any to understand that the list is perfect, containing the names of all the good guides, for it does
not.  It contains the names of such as, through
personal acquaintance or reliable information, I
know  to be worthy  of patronage.  Othliers, not
mentioned here, there may be equally reliable.  I
make no invidious comparison in tlhs selection. I
seek only to give such as may be about to visit
the region the names of certain guides to whom
they can write withli confidence, and whom, if they
secure, they may deem themselves fortunate.
Lo2?g La(ke Gi(lces, or those whose Post-Ofce Address
is Loily Lake, lfagmilton County, N. Y.
John E. Plumbley,
Jerry Pluimbley,
Amios Hough,
Henry Stantoin,
Isaac Robinson,
Jo hn                  R obi nson,
Amos PR.obinson,
Michael Sabatis and Sons,
Alonzo Wood,
Rteuben Cary.
Lower Saranac Guides.
Duglass Dunning,
George Ring,
Daniel L. Moody,
Mark Clough,
Reuben Reynolds,
Stephen M\,artin,
James McClellan,
LuAte Evans, 
Harvey Maoody,
John King,
39
I 
10      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
George Sweeny,            Alonzo Dudley,
Williani Ring,            Daniel Moody.
Post-offtce address,
Lo,cr Sr(tI)tac, F  ranklin Coutnty, N. Y.
St. Rcyis Gui(Ics.
I can recall the names of only three.
Seth Warnier,              Stephen Turner,
David Sweeny.
Post-office address,
St. Regis, Fvank7iit Comity, N.  Y.
Concerning the guides in the " Brown Tract,"
and on the western side of the wilderness, around
the Potsdanm re,ionl, I knowv  nothing.  The Arnolds, I understand, of the Broawn Tract district,
owing to an unfortunate occurrence last fall, have
all deserted that section of the country. The
house their father kept is now unioccupied, and
whether it will be opened this spri,ng I know iiot.
1HOW TO GET TO TIHE WILDI)ERNESS.
There are several roltes w-hicl you can take iIl
an excutrsion to the North Woods, but only one or
two which are easy and practicable for a party
composed  -)otl of ladies and gentlemen.  If you
wish to enter at the southern end of the wilder 
HUcW TO GET THERE.
rLiess, and  dclo your sporting in the Brown Tract
region, go to Albaniiy and thence to Booiieville, from
which place you can get transl)orted on horseback
to the first of the chlain of lakes known as the
"Eight Lakes."  Here was fornuerly a hotel, known
as "Arnold's."  The Arnold fa,mily have now left,
and I know not if the house is kept open. This
entrance is not easy for ladies, nor is the region
into which it brings you at all noted for the beauty
of its scenery.  Still manay sportsmen go in this
way, and to sulch a class it is a feasible route.  You
can also "go in" vica Lake George and Minerva to
Long Lake, if you choose.  The distance is some
eighty miiles by this route, the roads bad, and
the hotel accormmodations poor.  Long Lake is a
good starting-point for a party, as it is situated
midway of the forest, the centre of nmag,nificent
scenery, and the hiome of many giuides.  All it
needs to make this roLte one of the very best is,
that the roads should be improved, and a good line
of coaches established.  Put as it now is, it is
neither practicable nor entirely safe.
The best route by which to enter the wilderness
is the following.  It is easy and quick.  The ac connmmodations are excellent all the way through.
I do not know how I can give a true impression of
this route so briefly as by going, in inmagination,
with the reader, from Boston to the Lower Saranac,
where I meet my guide.  I leave Boston Monday
41 
42      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
mnorning,, we will say, at eigh,t o'clock, on the Boston and Albany Railroad.  At East Alb)any we connect withi the Troy train; at Troy, with the Saratog,a train, which lands you at the steamboat dock
at Whitehall,  Lake Chainplain, at nine o'clock,
P. -r.  Going on board you sit down to a dinner,
abundant in quantity and well served; after which
you retire to your state-room, or, if so inclined, roll
an arm-chair to the bhurricane deck, and enjoy that
rarest of treats, a steamboat excursion on an inland
lake by moonlight.  At 4.30 A. M. you are opposite Burlington, Vt., and by  the time you  are
dressed the boat glides alongside of the dock at
Port Kent, on the New York side of the lake.
You enter a coach w-hichl stands in waiting, and,
after a ride of six miles in the cool morning air,
you alight at the Ausable House, Keeseville. Here
you  array yourself for the woods, and, eating a
hearty breakfast, you seat yourself in thie coach at
7 A. W., the whip cracks, the horses spring, and you
are off on a fifty-six mile ride over a plank road,
whichi brings you, at 5 P. M., to Martin's, on the
Lower Saranac, whliere your guide, with his narrow
shell drawn up upon the leach, stands waiting you.
This is the shortest, easiest, and, b)eyond all odds,
the best route to the Adirondacks.  You  leave
Boston or New York Monday at 8 A. M., and reach
your guide Tuesday at 5 P. M. So perfect are the
connections on this route, that, having engaged
I 
HOW TO GET THERE.
"John" to meet me a year from a certain day, at
5 P. m., on the Lower Saranac, I have rolled up to
"Martin's" and jumped from the coach as the
faithful fellow, equally "on time," was in the act
of pulling his narrow boat up the beach. It is not
only easy and quick, but the cheapest route also,
and takes you  through  some  of the sublimest
scenery in the world.  At Keeseville, if you wish,
you can turn off to the left toward North Elba,
and visit that historic grave in which the martyr of
the nineteenth century sleeps, with a boulder of
native granite for his tombstone, and the cloudcovered peaks of Whiteface and Marcy to the
north and south, towering five thousand feet above
his head. By all means stop here a day. It will
better you to stand a few moments over John
Brown's grave, to enter the house he built, to see
the fields he and his heroic boys cleared, the
fences they erected and others standing incomplete
as they left them when they started for Harper's
Ferry. What memories, if you are an American,
will throng into your head as you stand beside
that mound and traverse those fields!  You will
continue your journey a better man  or purer
woman from even so brief a visit to the grave of
one whose name is and will ever be a synonyme of
liberty and justice throughout the world.  If you
are mere tourists, and intend going no farther westward than North Elba, stop at Westport, above
43 
14      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
Crow]n Point, and take stage to your destination.
At a Mr. Helmer's (I think that is the name) you
will find all necessary accommodation.  If you are
going into the wilderness, it is better to engage
your transportation from Keeseville in advance, in
order to prevent delay.   To this end you can address the proprietor of the Ausable House, Keese
ville, or A. F. Martin, keeper of "Martin's," as it is
familiarly known to sportsmen at the Lower Saranac. This is the direct route also to reach Paul!
Smith's, at the St. Regis Lake.  Another route, —
a new one just opened, which I have never tried,
is v:ia Plattsburgh, by which you can go by rail t,
a point within thirty miles of "Martin's."  Address
VW. F. Martin for particulars.
HOTELS.
This subject I shall dismiss with a brief allusion.
Paul Smith, or "Pol," as he is more commonly
known among the guides, is proprietor of the St.
Reg,is House.  This is the St. James of the wilderness. Here Saratoga trunks and Saratoga belles are
known.   Here they have civilized "hops," and
that modern prolongation of the ancient war-whoop
modified and improved, called "operatic singing,"
in the parlors. In spite of all this, it is a capital
house, with a good reputation, well deserved
I 
45
"Bartlett's" is situated on the carry between
Round Lake and the Upper Saranac.  This house
is well kept. The roomns are neatly furnished, the
service at the tables slightly suggestive of "style."
The proprietor is a brisk, business-like-looking iuan,
pleasant anid accommnodating.  I have never seen
or heard aughlt to his discredit, and miuch in his
praise.  Many gentlemeln  leave their wives and
children here while they  are in the wilderness
sporting.  This house is conveniently located, and
within easy reach of excellent lhunting-ground.  I
heartily recoii'mend it to public patronage.
"3fIotrer Joltitsoi's."'This is a "half-way house."
It is at the lower end of the carry, below Long Lake.
Never pass it without dropping, in.  Here it is
that you find such pancakes as are rarely met with.
Here, in a log-house, hospitality can be found such
as mighlt shame many  a city mansion.   Never
shall I forget the meal that John and I ate one
night at that pine table.  We broke camp at 8
A. r., and reached Mother Johnson's at 11.45 P. M.,
having eaten nothingi but a hasty luinch oi the
way.  Stuimbling up to the door amid a chorus of
noises, sucht as only a kennel of hounds can send
forth, we aroused the venerable couple, and at 1
A. -. sat down to a meal whose quantity and quality are worthy of tradition. Now, most housekeepers would have grumbled at being summoned
to entertain travellers at such an unseasonable
HOT.ELS. 
46      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
hour. Not so with Mother Johnson. Bless her
soul, how her fat, good-natured face glowed with
delight as she saw us empty those dishes! How
her coiuntenance shone and sides shook with laughter as she passed the smoking, russet-colored cakes
from her griddle to our only half-emptied plates.
For some tinme it was a close race, and victory
trembled in the balance; but at last John and I
surrendered, and, dropping our knives and forks, and
shoving back our chairs, we cried, in the language
of another on the eve of a direr conflict, " IHold,
enough!" and the good old lady, still happy and
radiant, laid down her ladle and retired from her
benevolent labor to her slumbers.  Never go by
Motlier Johlnson's without tasting her pancakes,
and, when you leave, leave with her an extra dollar.
"Uncle PctPalmer's" is at Long Lake, and conimands  a view  of lake  and mountain  scenery
rarely surpassed.  There are many houses open to
guests il the wilderness more ostentatious; but for
downright solid comfort comimend me to "Uncle
Paliner's." The table is well supplied; the cuisine
is excellent; the beds neat and clean; the location
central. Mr. Pahlner is one of the most honiest,
genial, and accommodating  men whomn  I have
ever mnet.  His wife is active, pleasant, and motlherly.  Both are full of the spirit of true kindness,
and sympathetic in all their words and acts.  You
may be a total stranger, but no sooner are you 
HOTELS.
fairly inside the house thian you feel yourself perfectly at I7o)nc.  In this neighborlood live John
Plumblley, and his brother Jerry, Amos  Hough,
Henry Staunton, Isaac RPobinson and boys, Michael
Sabatis and sons, and many others of the very
best guides in the wilderness.   Sabatis keeps a
hotel on the shore of the lake, and at his house
Ina,,j  sportsmen resort.  I have heard it well
spoken of, but cannot speak from experience, as I
never had the pleasure of stopping over there.
On the \whole, I do not hesitate to say that Long,
Lakle is, ill miy opinion, the best rendezvous of the
wnilderness, and  Uncle  Palmer's long table the
very- best spot to find yourself when hulng,ry and
tired.
"-rtin's."-  This is the last house of which
I shall speak.  It is located on Lower Saraniac, at
the terminus of the stage route from Keeseville. It
is, therefore, the most convenient point at which to
meet your guides.  Its appointments are thorough
and complete.  Martin is one of the few men in
the world who seem  to know how "to keep a
hotel."  At his house you can easily and cheaply
obtain your entire outfit for a trip of any lengtlh.
Here it is that the celebrated Loing Lake guides
wvitli their  unri-alled  boats, principally resort.
Here, too, many of the Saranac guides, somle of
them surpassed by none, make their hlead-quarters.
Mr. Martin, as a host, is good-natured and gen
47
I 
48      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
tlemanly.   His  table  is abundantly  provided,
not only with  the  necessaries,  but also  withi
many of the luxuries, of diet.  The charges are
moderate, and the accoimmodations for families, as
well as sportilng parties, in every respect amnple.
"MIartin's" is a favorite resort to all wlho hlave ever
once visited it, and stanlds deservedly high in public
estimiation.
WHEN TO VISIT THE WILDERNESS.
The purpose for which you go, and the character
of the sporting you  desire, should  decide  this
point.  If you desire river fishing for spotted
trout, and trolling for the lake trout, soile of whiich
grow to weigh from twenty to thirty pounds, you
should go in during the monthli of May or Junle.
The objection to this time lies in the fact that the
wilderness is wet and cold at this season of the
year, wlhenl the snow is barely melted, the portages
muddy and uipleasant, and the "black flies" in
iiultitudinous numbers.
These objections, to my minid, are insurmountable.   No  ladies  should go  into the wilderness
sooner than the mniddle of June.  If you want to
see autimnnal scenery, unsurpassed  by  any the
world over, and hear the "music of the hounds"
in full cry after that nioblest of all game for dogs,
a
0
%t 
WHEN TO VISIT THE WILDERNESS.
the antlered buck in swift career, go in during the
mnonth of Septemiber, and remain until SIOW and
the cold drive you out.
Mly favorite season is in imidsummier.  I go in
early in July, and remain for about two moniths.
Late in June  or early in July the "black fly"
disappears.  The wilderness is dry, and the climiate
is delightful.  The therimomieter stands at about
seventy-five or eighty degrees.  The portages are
in good condition, the water not hilgh, the lily and
marsh flowners in bloom.  The fishing is excellent.
The trout have left the rapids and the upper portions of the streams, and gathered in great luinlbers at the "sprinog-holes," the location of which
your guide is supposed to know, if not, hlie can
easily, if he understands his business, ascertain.
No better fishing can be found than spring-iole
fishing, which you will find carefully described in
the chapter entitled "The Namneless Creek."  As
for hunting, the sport is excellent during these two
months.  July is the best month for Jack or night
shooting, - the most exciting of all shooting.  The
bucks by this timre are in good condition, and not
over-shy.  These are the only months when you
have shore-shootingc, as it is called; that is, when
you see deer feeding in broad daylight, and take
them from the open boat at a good, easy range,
say fromnt twenty to thirty rods. This is what I
call good, honest sport, alnd not slaughter, as when
D
49 
50      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
the dog drives a deer into the lake, and, rowing
tly) )beidle the poor frightened and struggling thing
the cguide holds him by the tail while you blow
his brains out! Bah! I should be ashamed to
ever look along, the sights of a rifle again if I had
ever disgraced myself with any such "sporting" (!)
as that   At this time of the year rain-storms are
unknown in this region, and the thulnder-sliowers
which occur are a source of pleasure, and not of
inconvenience, to a camp.  No more sublime sight
can the eye behold than is presented to it when
such a shower passes over these mountains.
HEALTHFULNESS OF CAMP LIFE.
I am often asked if ladies would not" catch cold"
in the woods, and if the physical exertion which
one must put forth is not such as to forbid that
any but robust people should undertake the trip.
To this I reply that I believe it to be a physical
impossibility for one, however fragile or delicate,
to "catch cold" in this wilderness.   Remembl)er
that you are here in a mountainous region, where
dampness and mniasma, such as prevail in lower
sections, are entirely unknown.   Consider, too,
how genial and equable is the climate in the
summer months, and how pure and rarefied the
atmosphere.  Remember, also, that you breathe an 
HEALTHFULNESS OF CAMP LIFE.
air odorous wvith the sniell of pine and ceoar and
balsam, and absolutely free from the least taint of
impurity; and when you take all this into account,
you will see how very dissiiilar are the conditions
and surroundings of life in the wioods to life inii the
city or village.  Acquainted as I ain with many
ladies, some of theni accustomnied to every luxury,
and of delicate health, wMiho have "camiped out" in
this wilderness, I have yet to meet with a single
one who ever "cauglt cold," or experienced any
other inconvenience to the bodily health in the
woods.
As to the "physical exertion," there is Po sucll
exertion known  here.  It is the laziest of  all
iiua,ginable places, if you incline to indolence
Tramping is unknown in this region.  AWherever
you wish to go your guide paddles you.  Your
hunting, fishing, sighlt-seeing, are all done from the
boat.  Going in or coming out you cross the neessary carries, whichl, for the most part, are short and
good walkiing, and you can take your own time for
it. In this I refer, of course, to the most frequented parts of the wilderness, anid not to the portions
seldom visited and more di-tficult of access. There
are sections which I have visited by dragging my
cedar shell behind nie up narrow creeks and tlirough
tamarack swamps, middle deep in niud and water;
but no guide would think of taking a party, unless
urged by the party itself, into any such region; and,
51
I 
52      ADVENTITRES IN THE WILDERNESS.
ordinarily speaking, there is no'need of exertion
wvhichl a child of five summers could not safely put
forth, from one end to the other of a trip.
WVHAT SECTIONS TO VISIT.
If you go in by way of the Saranacs, do not
camp down in that section as sonme do, but pass
over Indian Carry, through the Spectacle Lakes and
PRamshorn Creek (called by some  Stony  Creek),
into the Racquette River.  Then turn up or down
as you please.  If youl desire to see some of the
finest scenery imaginabole, pass up the Racquette to
Long Lake, and, when some two miles up the lake,
turn your face toward the north, and you will behold what is worth  the entire journey  to see.
Then go on, and do not camp until you do so on the
southern or western shore of Racquette Lake.  Here
you will find good sporting and scenery  unsurpassed. Build here your central camp, and, as soon
as you are established, take your boat and go over
to the "AVood's Place," and from the knoll on
whlich the house stands you will gaze upon one of
the finest water views in the world.  Then visit
Terrace Lodge, on an island to the front and left of
you, and, climbing up the ledge, you will either find
the xmiiter there to welcome you, or see where he
and one better than he have passed many delight 
WHAT  SECTIONS'O'0 VISIT.
ful hlours.  Only beware how you ap)propriate it,
for we have a sort of life-lease onil thlat campgroundl, acnd may appear to clairo possession when
you least expect us.  Then paddle to Beaver Bay,
and find that point in it from which you can
arouse a whlole fanmily of sleeping echoes along
tle western  ridge and the heavy woods opposite.
Then g'o to Constable Point, and quench your thirst
at the coolest, sweetest spring of pure water from
which you ever drank.  Go next to the southern
part of the lake, so hidden behind the islands that
you wyould never suspect such a lovely sheet of
water lay beyond, with its twAo beautiful reaches of
softly shining sand, one whiite as silver, the other
yellowv as gold; and in the waters which lave the
golden, find the best bathing in the whole wilderness. D)o not leave this region until you have
m:ltde an excursion to that Lake George in miniature,  Blue Mountain  Lake,.and fill your mind
with an inmpression which will remain in mnemory as one of the sweet and never-to-be-forgotten
recollections of life. When you have retraced
your progress up, and reached the mouth of Ramshorn Creek, keep on down the Racquette until you
have swungi round to Big Tupper Lake and lunched
on the sloping ledge over which  the outlet of
Round Lake and Little Tupper pours its full tide in
thunder and foam; and, if it be not too late in the
season, and you know how to use the rod, you will
53
I 
D   ADVENNTURES IN THE  WILDERNESS.
raise, anmidcl the froth and eddies of the falls, sonime
of the largest, gamiest, brig,htest-tinted trout that
ever gladdened a sportsmanll's eye.  Then, if you are
robust and full of pluck, force your way over the
four-mile carry, between the Falls and IRound Lake,
aid, hurrying on through its sluggish waters, do
not pause until you enter the narrow,  secluded
stretch of Little Tupper.  But  the nmoment  you
enter stop, joint your rod, and noose on your
strongest leader  and  largest flies, for you  will
find right there, at the entrance of Bog, Creek,
trout that will put your skill and tackle to the
severest test.  When I passed through that region
last, I left, as John expressed it, "more than five
boat-load  of fish"  in that deep, sluggish pool.
Honest John Plumbley, the prince of guides, patient
as a houLnd, and as faithful,   a man who knows the
wilderness as a farmer knows his fields, whose instinct is never at fault, whose temper is never ruffled, whose paddle is silent as falling snow, whose
eye is true along the sights, whose pancakes are
thle wonder of the woods, - honest, patient, and
modest Johln Plumbley, may he live long beyond
the limit so few of us attain, and depart at last full
of peace as he will full of honors, God bless him! 
As you pass out, visit the St. Regis waters, by
the way of Big Wolf, and Rollin's Pond, and Long,
Pine, and so circle down to "mine host" at Martin's.  What a trip you will have had, what won 
BLACK FLIES.
ders seen, what rare experiences enjoyed! How
many evening,s will pass on "golden wings" at
lhome, as friends draw close their circle around tihe
g,lowin,,rate, and listen as you rehearse the story
of your adventures,-  shoot over again your "first
bucek," and lanid for the hundredth time your "big(est" trout   I
BLACK FLIES.
I will speak of these and other nuisances before
I close, in order to state the exact truth in reference to a subject concerning which newspaper and
nmagazine writers have given the public an erroneous impression.  The spirit of exaggeration, and
the necessity of "g ettinlg up a good article," have
contribu)ted to the dissemination of "anecdotes"
and "experiences " which are the merest balderdash
imaginiable.  I amn prompted, therefore, to make,
as we were acecustomned to say in college, a " plain
statement of facts," that my readers may know
precisely how much inconvenience a tourist or
sportsman is subject to, from this source, among
the Adirondacks. The black fly, concerning which
so much of the horrible has been written, is a
small, dark-colored fly, about the size of a red ant.
Its bite is not severe, nor is it ordinarily poisonous.
There may be an occasional exception to this rule;
55 
56  ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
but beside the bite of the mosquito it is comparatively mild aud harmnless.  This fly prevails duringc
the month of June alnd disappears early in July.
It also invariably retires at the setting of the
sun, and gives you no more trouble until late in
the morning.  I regard it as one of the most harinless and least vexatious of the insect family.  For
five years my wife and self have camped in the
wilderness;  we have traversed it near and far,
sleeping where the night found us, but we have
never  been, to any  extent  worth  mentioning,
disturbed by its presence. The black fly, as pietured by "our Adirondack correspondent," like the
Gorgon of old, is a myth, - a monster existing
only in mnen's feverish imag,inations.
MO S QUITOES.
In some localities these are numerous, but with
care in the selection of your camp you will
not be very much  troubled.  A  headland, or a
point which projects into a lake, over which the
wind sweeps, or, better still, an island, is excellent ground for a caminp, where mosquitoes will
not embarrass you.
Gnats can also be avoided by the same  care;
and, in mniy way of thinking, they are much worse
than the black fly or mosquito. 
MOSQUITOES.
Against all these insects you can find abundant
protection.  The following precautions, which we
have adopted with complete sLucecess, I would recommend, especially to such of my lady readers as contemplate a visit to this or any other inland region.
For the hands, take a pair of common  buckskin
(loves and sew on at the wrists a gauntlet or
armlet of chamois-skiin, reaching  to the elbow,
and tightl(y bI{ttoncd around.  I)o not leave any
openilng, however small,  at the wrist, else  the
gnats may  creep up  the arm.   ThIis gives perfect protection to the hand.   For the face, take a
yard and a half of Swiss mull, and gather it with
an elastic band into the form of a sack or bag.
Hiave the elastic so as to slip over the head, which
whlien you have done, fix the elastic inside the
coll,ur-b(and, and you can laugh defiance at the mosquitoes and gnats. WTe, in addition to this, take in
a piece of vcry Jtle muslin, some four yards square,
which, if threatened with gnats or flies, having first
thoroughly smoked the tent or lodge, we drop over
the front or doorway, and behind its protection sleep
undisturbed.  To sportsmen, and indeed to all, I
suggest this also.  Take in a bottle of sweet oil
and a vial of tar. These the guide will mix, and
with a small bottle of the compound in your pocket you can go and come night-or day as you please.
All manner of insects  abhor the smell of  tar.
When, therefore, you have need to fish or hunt or
57
3* 
8   ADVIENTURES IN THEI, WILDERNESS.
journey where they may be expected, pour out a
little into the paliu of your hand and anoint your
face with it.  To most persons the scent of tar is
not offensive, and the mixture washes off on the
first application of soap and water, leaving no trace
or taint.  To reconcile my lady readers to it, I
may add, that it renders the skin soft and smooth
as an infant's.
I have mentioned these various protections, not
because we often resort to them, but simply from
a desire to furnish my readers ample knowledge
for every emergency. Last summer we were in
the wilderness nearly two  monliths, but suffered
more in the first two weeks after our return, in a
city in Connecticut, than during our entire stay in
the woods. Care in the selection of your camp,
and the employment of the above-mentioned methods of protection, will obviate every difficulty and
make you as free fromn inconvenience as youi would
be in the majority of New En,,gland villages.
LADIES' OUTFIT.
A  lady at miy elbow, recalling how valuable a
few suggestions would have been to her five years
ago in respect to what is most appropriate and
serviceable for a lady to wear in the wilderness,
inserts the following list: - 
LADIES' OUTFIT.
A net of fine Swiss nmull, made as we have previously described, as protection against mosqui
toes, gnats, etc.
A pair of buckskin gloves, with armlets of chamois-skin or thick dclrilling, sewed on at the wrist
of the glove andl buttoned near the elbow so tightly
as to prevent the entrance of flies.
For the headl, a soft felt hat, such as gentlemen
wear, rather broad in the brim.   This is light and
cool for the head, and a good protection from sun
andl rain.
A flannel change throughout.
Tliick balmoral boots, with rubbers.
A  pair of camp shoes, water-proof, warm  and
roomy.
Short walking-dress, with Turkish drawers fastened with a band tightly at the ankle.
W\aterproof or rubber coat and cap.
A pair of Lisle-thread or kid gloves.
To this I add, as it occurs to me at this point,
that no party should go into the wilderness unprovided with linen bandages, prepared lint, salve,
and whatever else is needed in  case of  accident.  You will not, probably, have occasion to
use them, but if any casualty should occur they
would be of the utmost service.
59
I 
60      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
WILD ANIMALS.
I am often asked, especially by ladies, if it is
not dangerous to take such a trip, and if wild animals do not abound in the wilderness;  and I
know that many are deterred from making the
excursion  because of their timidity.   The only
animals concerning which the most timid could be
alarmed are the bear, wolf, and panther.   The
latter is a very ugly neighbor indeed, and the
less you have to do with him the better. I amn
tolerably familiar with wood life, and the sights
and sounds of such danger as one is liable to
meet in the wilderness; and John  and I have
slept more than once, calmly enough, with our
rifles inside our blankets, not knowing when we
lay down what cry mighlt awaken us; but I should
not purposely put myself in the way of a panther,
unless I could run my eye along the sights of my
double rifle when the barrels were freshly charged.
In speaking of the panther, I do not, of course, allude to the Canadian wild-cat, with which the igno,
rant often confound the panther, but to the puma
itself, an animal which often measures twelve feet
from tip to tip, and is the slyest, strongest, bloodiest
ranger of the woods.  Now, fortunately, the panther is almost wholly unknown in this region.  A
few still live amnong the loneliest defiles and darkest 
WILD ANIMALS.
gorges of the Adirondack Mountains, but they
never come down, unless in the depth of winter,
to the shores of the lakes to the west, or the banks
of the rivers.  Many years have passed since one
has b(,en seen by any of the guides.  The region
traversed by parties is as free from them as the
State of Massachusetts.
Black bears abound in some localities, but
more timnid, harmless creatures do not exist, all the
old stories to the contrary notwithstanding.  In
temper and action toward men they resemble very
closely the woodchuck. Their first and only anxiety is to escape man's presence. If you penetrate
far enough into the wilderness, you will occasionally, at night, hear them nosing around your camp,
with hiedgehogs and the like, but ever careful to keep
out of your sight. A stick, piece of bark, or tin plate
shied in the direction of the noise, will scatter
them like cats. The samne is true of wolves.  They
are only too anxious to keep out of your sighit and
hearing.  Touch a match to an old stump, and in
twao hours there will not be a wolf within ten miles
of y on. I wish all to take the statement as in every
sense true, when I declare that there is absolutely
no danger, nor indeed the least approach to danger,
in camping in the wilderness.  Many and many a
night has my wife, when John and I were off' on a
hunt, slept soundly and without  a thought of
danger, in the depths of the forest, fifty mniles
61 
62      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
from even a hunter's cabin.  It is true that her
educationi iln woodcraft is more extensive  thian
that of miost ladies, and, for presence of nijnd,
quickness and skill with the rifle, many so-called
"crack shots" mihlt well take lessons of her; but
were this not true, I regard a camnp, granted only
that it be so far in that men cannot reach it, as a
place of absolute security.
PROVISIONS.
All you need to carry in with you is
Pepper,
Butter (this optional),
IPork, and Condensed Milk.
Always take crushed sugar; powdered sugar is
not easily picked up if the l)ag bursts and lets it
out among the pine-stems.
If you are a " high liver," and wish to take in
canned fruits and jellies, of course you can do so.
But these are luxiries which, if you  are wise,
you will leave behind you.
BILL OF FARE.
I anm often asked, "Whlat do you have to eat up
there?"   In  order to answer the  very natural
question, and show thie reader that I do not starve,
Coffee,
Tea,
Sug,-ar,
I 
BILL OF FARE.
I will give my  bill of fare a s you  can he ve
it served, if youi will call at liy canip on the
Pacquette next July.  This is no "fancy sketchi,"
but a boia fi(c list whicli I have "gone through"
more than once, and( hope to imany times more.
V-cgctablcs.
Potatoes, boiled, fried, or mashled.
Jlcats.
Venison, roast.
st teak, broiled.
.... fried.
Vendison sausages.
haslh.
"    spitted.
_Fis].
Trout  (spotted).
Fried  (in meal).
Broiled.
Spitted.
JLke Trout (salmon).
Boiled.
Baked.
Broiled.
Chowder.
Pancakes, w\ith maple sirup (choice)
Bread, warm and stale, both.
Coffee.                Tea.
Now imagine that you have been out for eight
hours, with a cool, appetizing mountain breeze
blowing in your face, and then fancy yourself
seated before your bark table in the shadow of the
pines, with the water rippling at your feet; a lake
63
I 
64      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
dotted with islands, and walled in with mountains,
before you, and such a bill of fare to select from,
and then tell ine if it looks like starvation?  If a
man cannot make a pounid of flesh per day on that
diet, I pity him!
And now, patient reader, having given you all
the information necessary to make you acquainted
with the geographly of the wilderness, the character of the sporting therein, the outfit needed for
the excursion, the best routes of entrance, and
certain su(ggestions as to hotels, gutiides, anid contrivances of protection fromnt gniats and flies, I close
this chapter with the wish that you mnay find, in
excursions which you may mnake thereto, the healthli
and happiness whichl haave, upon its waters  and
under its softly murmuring pinles, come to me, and
more abundantly — as to one who  needed them
more-to her who joins me in the hope of mneetimg, you amnid the lilies which fleck withl snow its
rivers, or in the merry circle, free from care, which,
,on some future eveniing, we hope to gather around
our camp-fire. 
if.
THE NAMELESS CREEK.
T.vas fi-ve o'clock in the afternoon whlen, after
three hoLirs of constanit straggle with the cur
rent, wve burst our way throughl  a mnass of alderbutshes and marsli-g,rass, and behlold, the lake lay
before us! AVet from head to foot, panting from
my recent exertion, lavin eaten nothing  since
seven in the morning, and weary from ten hours'
steady toil, I felt neither weariness nor hunger as
I gazed upon the scene.  Shut in on all sides by
niountains, mirrored from base to stunit in its
placid bosom, bordered  here with  fresh  green
grass and there with reaches of golden sand, and
again with patches of lilies, whose fragrance,mingled
with the scent of balsam and pine, filled the air,
the lake reposed unruffled and serene.
I know of nothing which carries the miind( so far
back toward the creative period as to stand on the
shore of such a sheet of water, knowing, that as you
behold it, so has it been for ages.  Tihe water
mwhich laves your feet is the same as that which
flowed when the springs whichl feed it were first
urncapped.  No rude axe has smitten the forests
E 
66      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS!
which grow upon thile mounLtains; even the grass at
your side is as tlhe parent spire which Hle who
ordclereth all comimands to bring forth seed after
its kind.  All arouind yotL is as it was in the beginning.  I know not how long I should thus have
stood musiing, but for a motion of John's, which
broke the chain of thoughit and broughlt my miind
back to the practical realization that we were
w-et, hungry, and tired.  In the middle of the lake
was a large flat rock, rising some two feet above the
surface of the water.  Stepping noiselessly into our
boat, wae paddled to the rock, and, wringing our drippiing garments, stretchled ourselves at full length
uLpon it to dry. 0, the pleasant sensation of warmth
which that hard couch, to which the sun had given
a genial hleat, conmulnicated to us! Never was bed
of eider-down so welcome to royal limbs as was
that granite ledge to ours.  What luxury to lie and
w\atch the vapor roll up fromn your wet garments
while the w-arm rock gave out its heat to your
chilled body! In an hour we were dry, at least
comparatively so, and we held  a council.  Our
colmmissariat was gettiing rather low.  Our stores,
spread upon the rock, amounted to the following:
two pounds of pork, six potundcls of flour, four imeasures of coffee, one lhalf-pound of tea.  John estimnated that this would last us thiree days, if I
bad ordinary success with the rod.  "But what
are we to do to-ni,ght?" I exclaimed;"we have
I 
THE NAMELESS CREEK.
neither trout nor venison, and I ain hungry enough
to eat those two pounds of pork alone, if I once
get fairly at it, and there goes the sun back of
the tree-tops iow? W"  "  Tell, unstrap your rod and
select your flies," responded lie, "and we will see
what we can find.  I don't mean to have you wrap
yourself around that piece of pork to-night any
way."  I did as requested.  For the tail fly I
noosed on a brown hlackle, above it I tied a killer,
and for the dapper I hitched on a white miotlh.
Taking the bow seat, John paddled straight for the
west shore of the lake, and the light boat, cutting
its way through the lily-pads, shot into a narrow
aperture overhung with bushes and tangled grass,
and I saw a sight I never shall forget.  We had
entered the inlet of the lake, a stream some twenity
feet in widthl, whose waters were dark and sluggish.
Thie setting sun yet poured its radiance througTl the
ov-erhangingo pines, flecking the tide with crimson
patches and crossing it here and there with golden
lanes.  Up this stream, flecked with gold and bordered with lilies as far as the eye could reach, the
air was literally full of jumping trout.  Fromi amid
lily-pads, from under the overhanging grass, and
in the bright radiance poured along the miiddle of
the stream, the speckled beauties were launching
themselvTes.   Here a little fellow would cut his
tiny furrow along the surface after a fluttering
gnat; there a larger one, with quivering fin aid
67 
68  ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
open mouth, would fling himself high into the air
in a brave attempt to seize a passing moth; and
again, a two-pounder, like a miniature porpoise,
would lazily rise to the surface, roll up his golden
side, and, flilnging his broad tail upward, with  a
splash disappear.  Casting loose my flies and uncoiling mny leader, I made ready to cast; but John,
unmindful or regardless of the motion, kept the even
sweep of his stroke.  Round tufted banks, under
overhang,ing pines, and through tang,led lily-pads
we passed, and at every turn,and up evTery stretch
of water the same sight presented itself. At length,
sweeping sharply round a curve, John suddenly reversed his paddle and checked the boat, so that the
bow stood upon the very rim of a pool some forty
feet across. D)ark and gloomy it lay, withl its surfa,(e as smooth as though no ripple had ever crossed
it  No one would have guessed that beneath the
tzanquil surface lay life and sport.
Adjusting myself firmly on my narrow seat, untangling the snells and gathering up my leader, I
flung the flies into mid-air and launched them out
over the pool. The moment their feathery forms
had specked the water, a single gleam of yellow
light flashed up from the dark depth, and a trout,
closing his mouth upon the brown hackle, darted
downward.  I struck and had him.  A small trout
he proved to be, of only some half-pound weight.
After having passed him over to Johln to be disen 
THE NAMELESS CREEK.
gaged, I again launched the flies out, which, pa,using a moment in mnid-air as the straightened line
brought them up, began slowly to settle down, but
ere they touched the water four gleams of light
crossed the pool and four quivering forms, with
wide-spread tails and open mouths, leaped high
out of water. I struck, and,- after a brief struggle,
landed two.  From that moment the pool was literally alive with eager fish.  The deep, dark water
actually effervesced, stirred into bubbles and foam.
Six trout did I see at once in mid-air, in zealous
rivalry to seize the coveted flies. Fifteen successive casts were  made, and  twenty-three trout
lay flapping on the bottom of the boat. But of
them all none would weigh over three quarters
of a pound; yet had I seen fish rise which must
have balanced twice that weight.  I turned to John
and said, "Why  don't some of those large ones
take the fly?" " Presently, presently," responded he.
"The little ones are too quick for them; cast away
quick and sharp, waste no time, snap them off, never
mind the flies, and when you have cleared the surface of the small fry you will see what lies at the
bottomi."  I complied.  At last, after some forty
had been flung down the stream, the rises became
less frequent, the water less agitated, and, partly
to rest my wrist and partly to give John time to
adjust new and larger flies, I paused. In five
minutes thle current had cleared the pool of bub
69
I 
70      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
bles, and the dark water settled gradually into sullen repose.   "Now," said John,  "lengthen your
line and cast at that patch of lily-pads lying under
the hemlock there, and if a large one rises, strike *
hard." I did as desired. The flies, in response
to the twist of the pliant rod, rose into the air,
darted forward, and, pausing over the lily-pads,
li,ghted deftly on the water.  Scarcely had  their
trail made itself visible on the smooth surface, before a two-pounder gleamned out of the dark depths,
and rolling his golden side up to the light, closed
his jaws upon the white mothl.   I strucek.  Stung
by the pain, he flung himself, with a nighlty effort,
high in air, hoping  to fall upon the leader and
snap the slender gut.  D)ropping the point of' ily
rod, he came  harmlessly down upon  the slack.
P-ecovering himself, hle dove to the bottom, sulking.
Bearing gradually upon his uiouth, the only response I got was a sullei shakingi, as a dog shakes
a woodlchuck.   Feariing his sharp teeth would cit
the already well-chlafed snell, I bore stoutly upon
himn, lifting himn  bodily  up toward the surface.
AVWhen near the top, giving one desperate shake,
he started.  Back and forth, round and round that
pool he flashed, a gleam of yellow light through
the dark water, until at last, wearied and exhausted
by his efforts, he rolled over upon his side and lay
* This word is one employed by sportsmen to denote the
motion with which the fish is hooked.
I 
THE NAMELESS CREEK.
panting upon the surface.  Johln deftly passed the
landcling-net under him, and the next minute he lay
amid his smaller brethren in the boat.  I paused a
moment to admire.  A  bluish-black trout he was,
dotted with spots of bright vermilion. His fins,
rosy as autumnal skies at sunset, were edged with
a border of purest white.  HIis tail was b)road and
thick; eyes prominent, mouth wid(le and armned with
briery teeth.  A  trout in color and build rarely
seen, gamy and stanch.  Noosing on a fresh fly in
place of the one his teeth had mangled, I miade
ready for another cast.  Expecting, mLuchl, I was not
prelpared for what followed.
Now\, all ye lovers of bright waters and greensward, who lift a poor half-l)ounder withl your big,
trolling-rod and call it sport, listen and learn what
befell one of your craft at sunset at the pool of the
Nameless Creek.  Nameless let it be, until she who
most  would have  enjoyed it shall, on somne  fiuture
suntiset, floating amid the lilies, cast flies upon  its
tide.
A backwaid motion of the tip, and a half-turn of
the wrist, and the three flies leaped upward and
ahead. Spreading themselves out as they reached
the limit of the cast, like flakes of feathery snow
they settled, wavering downward; when suddenly
up out of the depth, cleaving the water in concert,
one to each fly, three trout appeared.  At  the
same instant, high in mid-air, their jaws closed on
71 
72       AD  ENiURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
the barbed hooks. No shout fromnt John was needed to make  me strike.  I struck so  quick and
strong that the leader twanged like a snapped
bow-string, and the tip of the li,ght rod flew down
nearly to the reel.  Atll three were hooked.  Three
trout, weighing in the aggregate seven pounds, held
by a single hair on a nine-ounce rod, in a pool
fringed with lily-pads, forty by thirty feet across!
Then followed what to enjoy again I would ride
thrice two hLundred miles.  The contest, requiring
nerve and skill on the fisher's part, was to keep the
plunging fish out of the lily-pads, in which, should
they once become entangled, the gut would part
like a thread of corn-silk or the spider's gossamer
line.  Up and down, to and fro, they glanced.  The
lithe rod bent like a coachman's whip to the unusual strain, and the leader sung as it cut through
the water with the whir of a pointed bullet.
At last, wlhen at the farthest corner of the pool,
they doubled short upon the line, and as one fish
rushed straighlt for the boat.  Fishermen know what
that movement means.  "Give'enm the butt! give
'em the butt!" shouted John.  "Smash your rod
or stop'em!"  Never before had I feared to thrust
the butt of thliat rod out towardl an advancing fish;
but here were three, each large enough to task a
common rod, untired and frenzied with pain, rushing directly toward me.   If I hesitated, it was but
an instant, for the cry of John to "Smash her! 
l~ -
__ __ ________   (jf  \
", looked  t yo7 i; his ys bues were as/e,ed o    e r,d 
I 
THE NAIMELESS CREEK.
smash your rod or stop'em!" decided the matLer.
Gripping the extreme butt with one hand, and
clutching the reel with the other, I held them
steadily out, toward the oncoming fish.   "Good
by, old rod," I mentally exclaimed, as I saw
the three gleaming forms dash under the boat;
"stanch as you are, you can't stand that."   An
instant, and the pressure came upon the reel. I
gripped it tightly, not giving an inch.  The pliant
rod doubled itself up under the strain, until the
point of the tip was stretched a foot below the
hand which grasped the butt, and the quivering
lance-wood lay across the distended knuckles.  Nor
fish nor rod could stand that pressure long. I
couild feel the fibres creep along the delicate shaft,
and the mottled line, woven of choicest silk, attenuated under the strain, seemed like a single lair.
I looked at John. His eyes were fastened upon the
rod. I glanced down the stream, and even at the
instant the three magnificent fish, forced gradually
up by the pliancy of what they could not break,
broke the smooth surface and lay with open
mouths and gasping  gills  upon  the tide.  Iii
trying to land the three, the largest one escaped.
The other two averaged sixteen inches long. Witlihin the space of forty minutes nearly a hundred
trout had been taken, fifty of which, varying fromin
one quarter of a pound to two pounds and a half in
weight, lay aloing the bottom of the boat; the rest
4
73
I 
74      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
had been cast back into the water, as unhooked by
Johln.  It was Saturday evening.  The sun had
gone dovwn behind the western mountains, and amid
the gathering shadlows we sought a camp.  We
found one in the shape of a small bark lodge, which
John himself had erected fourteen years previous,
when, in comnpany with an old trapper, he camnped
one fall upon the shores of this lake.  Kindling
a fire in the long-neglected fireplace, we sat down
to our supper under the clear sky already thickly
dotted with stars. Fromn seven in the morning
until eilght in the evening we had been without
food.   I have an indistinct recollection that I
puit myself outside of elc en trout, and that John
iuana,ged to surround nine more.  But there may
be an error of one or two either way, for I am under
the impression that nmy mental faculties were not
in the best workingl   condition at the close of the
meal.  John recollects distinctly that he cooked
twenty-one fishli, and but three could be found in
the pan wlien wve stopped eating, which he careftilly laid aside that we might take a bite before
,~oin(,, to sleep 
Our meal was served up in three courses.  Tlhe
first course consisted of trout and pancakes; the
second course, pancakes and trout; the third, fish
and flapjacks. 
111.
RUNNING THE RAPIDS.
N   OW \  for tlhe rapids," said Jolin, as our boat
left the trainqlil waaters of the lake,  and,
sweeping around a lTinge shlelving- ledge, shot into
the narrowv channel, whlere the waters, tonverg,ed
froni either shore, were gathlering, themselves for
the foani and thltinder b)elow.
The rapids were three  ililes in length, -  one
stretch of niadly rusliing water, save where, at the
foot of somre long fighit or perpendiclilar fall, a
pool lay, specked with biubbles, and( flecked with
patcles of frothl.  Tle river is paved withi rocks,
and full of boullders, amid whilch the water glides
smooth and deep, or dashles with  headlong violence against tlem.   And ever and anon, at the
head of somie steep declivity, gathering itself for
flight, dovwnwvard it shloots with arrowy swiftness,
until, bursting over a fall, it buries itself in the
pool beneatlh.
At the head of suc-il a stretch of water, whose
roar and murmur filled the air, we ran our boats
ashore.   Never until this season had these rapids
been run, even by the guides; and nrow, untried, 
76      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
inexperienced, against the advice of friends, I was
to attempt, unaided and alone, to guide my boat
past ledge, through torrents, and over waterfalls,
to the still bay below.   The  preparation was
simple, and soon made. I strapped my rifle, rod,
and all my ba,ggag,e to the sides and bottom of the
boat, relaced my moccasins and tightened my belt,
so that, in case I stove the shell, or, failing to keep
her steady, should capsize her, I might take to the
water light, and have my traps drift ashore with
the wreck. Nevertheless, I did not intend that
the boat should upset; indeed, the chances were
in my favor.  Oars and boats had been my playthings from a boy; and wild indeed must be the
current up and across which I could not shoot
the shell in which I sat, -made of forest pine,
fourteen feet in length, sharp as an arrow, and
weighing but seventy pounds.  In addition, John
had given me valuable hints, the sum of which
might be expressed thus: " In currents, keep her
straight; look out for underlying rocks, and smash
your oars before you smash your boat." "Little
danger," I said to myself, "of snapping oar-blades
made of second-growth ash, and only eight feet
from butt to tip." Yet it was not without some
misgiving that I shot my boat out into the swift
current, and with steady stroke held her on the
verge of the first flight of water, while I scanned
the foam and eddies for the best opening between 
RUNNING THE RAPIDS.
the rocks to get her through.  In shooting rapids the oarsman faces down stream in order to
watch the currents, direct his course, and, if need
be, when within his power, and danger is ahead, to
check his flight and choose another course.  The
great thing and the essential thing to learn and
do is to take the advantage of the currents, whirls,
and eddies, so as to sway your boat, and pass from
this to that side of the rapids easily. The agreenmeit was, that John should precede me in his
boat; that I, watching his motions, and guided
by his course somewhat, might be assisted in the
descent by his experience. A good arrangement,
surely; but
"The best laid schemes o' mnice and men
Gang aft agley,"
as we found before half a mile of the course
had been run; for my boat, being new and light,
beside less heavily loaded than John's, caugl-ht at
the head of some falls by the swift current, darted
down the steep decline, and entering side by side,
with a mighty leap, the yeasty foamn, shot out
ahead, and from that moment led the race to the
foot of the rapids. But I anticipate.
Thus, as I said, I sat in my boat, holding her
steadily, by strength of oar, in mid-stream, where
the water smoothed itself for the plunge, until
John, with friend Burns sitting upon his feet like
77 
8   AD\!E"NTURES IN TIIlE WILDERNESS.
a Turk, on the bottom of the boat, holding on to
either side with  his hands  to steady himself
(whether John had strapped him down or not [
caii't surely say), pushled from shore, and, taking
the current above, brushedl swiftly by, with  tllhe
injunction to "follow."   I obeyed.  DI)own  we
glided, past rock  aind ledge, swerving now  this
side, uowV that, sweepilng rounld giant boulders al(nd
juitting, banks, dowvn  under the dark balsams and
overhangingi pines, th.e suction growing  stronger
and strong,er, the flight swifter, until the boats,
like ea,gles swooping  on  one prey, took the last
i,tretch ainiost side by si(le, and, lifted highl up on
the verge of the first falls, madcle the wild leap
together, anld disappeared into the yeasty foam,
whence, risinig bunoyantly, uplifted by the swelling
water, shlot out of thle foami  and mist, and, like
birds fresh from  sport, floated cork-like on  the
pool below.
AWe paused a moment to breathe, when, looking
ulp, the two renlaining boats, guided by Jerry and
thle younger  Pobiiison, bI)earing Soutlwick  and
Everitt as passelngers, caine sweeping round the
curve, and rLuslin(,, as from the roof of a house,
to the brink of the fall, flung, themselves into the
abyss, and in a moment lay along our side.  The
excitement was intense.  No  words can descrilbe
the exhilaration of siuch a flight.  It was thought,
after mnature  deliberation by the company, that 
RUNNING THE RAPIDS.
Everitt's delighted yell alone, in ordinary weather,
withl a little wind in its favor, milght have been
heard easily sixteen miles.  His whole being, corporal and spiritual, seemed to resolve itself iniito
one prolonged howl of unnmitigated happiness.
Having rested ourselves, we started again.  By
this time, brief as the experience had been, I had
learned miLuch as to the action of currents, and was
ablle to judge pretty correctly how low a rock or
ledg(e lay under water by the size and motion of
the swirl above it.  One learnis fast in actioni;
and  fifteen  minutes  of actual experience amiid
rapids does more to teach the eye and lhand what
to do, and howv to do it, thtan any amount of inlformation gathered from  other sources.  To sit in
your light shell of a boat, in mid(l-current, with
rocks on either side, where the bed of the river
declines at an angle of thirty degrees, knowing
that a miscalculation of the eye, a mnisstroke of the
oar or the least shaking of the nmuscles will send
your boat rolling over and over, and you under it,
has a very strong tendency to minake a man look
sharp and keep his wits about him.
AVell, as I said, we started.  For some fifty rods
the current was comnparatively snooth and slow.
The  river was wide and the decline not sharp.
The chief difficulty wse found to be in avoiding the
stones and rocks with whichl the bottom of the
river is paved, and which in many places were
79 
80      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
barely covered.  My boat, with only myself in it,
need(led but some two inches of water to float in,
and wsould pass safely over where the other boats
would touch or refuse to go at all.  It required
great care on the part of the guides to let theirs
over gently, as their bottoms are but little thicker
than pasteboard, and held by small copper tacks.
At last the shallows were past, and, bringing our
boats in line, one behind the other, we made all
ready for another rush.  The sight from this point
wsas grand.  Our boats were poised as on the
ridge-board of a hlouse, whlile below, for some
twenty rods, the water went tearing down; nowv
gliding over a smooth  shelviing ledge, with the
quick, trem-ulous motion of a serpent, and now
torn to shreds by jagged rocks at the bottom, and
again beat back by huge boulders wvlich lifted
themselves  in  mid-current,  presenting  to  the
eye one continuous stretch of mad turmoil and
riot.  At the foot of the reach the eye could just
discern the smooth, glassy rim of a fall, we klnew
not how high, while far down the river, slhut from
view by a sharp curve, the rushl and roar of other
falls rose sullenly up through the heavy pines and
overhanging hemlocks, which  almost arched the
current from side to side. At a word from John,
who, leading the van, sat as a warrior might sit
his steed, bareheaded and  erect, the oars were
lifted, and the freed boats, as though eager for 
ihm om  
k 
RUNNING THE RAPIDS.
flight, started downw-ard.   Away, awvay they flew.
If before they  went lik'e birds, they went  like
eagles nowv.   No keepilng in line here; eacih imanI
for himiself in this wvild race; anld woe to boatman
and to boat if an  oar shloulid break or oar-bolt
sniap.   Close  after Jolhn, gaining  at every  rush,
ily light boat sped.   No  thou,ghlt for others, all
eye and nerve for self, withl  a royal upleaping of
blood, as  miy face, wet  with  the spray,  clove
throghli the  air, I flashed  until  the  fall was
reached, and, side b-)y side, with trailing, oars, we
took  the leap  togethler.   Down-,  down  we  sank
illto the feathlery foami; thle frotl  flung high over
us as we splashed itto it.  D)owln, down, as if the
pool had no bottomi, we went, our boats half full
of spnme and foamn, till the reacting water underneatlh canglit the lig,ht shlells up and flung them
out of the yeast and mist, dripping inside and out,
from  stem  to sterni, as sea-birds rising  fromn a
plninge.   No  stop  nor stay for breathing here.
Arotiind the curve, by  no effort of mine  leading,
the race, I w-ent, swept down another reachl alnd
over anothler fall, and, without power to pause a
imiomient, entered into the thiird before I had time
to thlink.  Steeper than all Ibehind, it lay before
mne, but strai(ght, and for a distance smooth, for
aughit I could see as I shook the spray from my
eyes, until it narrowed, and the converging  torrent mrit between twvo overhangiing, rocks in one
4* 
81
I 
82      ADVE\TURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
lhuge ridge of tossillg, swelliing water.  What lay
below I hknew not; how steep the fall, or on what
bottom I should land.  In rapids, John had told
nie, the wildest water was the safest, and so I
steered straigl't for thie highest swell of water and
the whitest foam.  Fancy a current, rods in width
converging, as it glides, until the mass of rushini(
water is brought as into an eav-es-trough five feet
across, with sharp, jutting rocks for sides, where
thie compressed water fling,s itself wildly uip, iiindig,nant at the restraint put upon it; and then
fancy yourself in a boat weighing, but seventy
pounds, giding  down  with  a swiftness  almnost
painful into the narrow fuiinel through which,
bursting, you must shoot a fall you canniot see,
but whose roar rises heavily over the dash of the
torrent, and you can realize what it is to shoot tihe
rapids of the Pacquette River, and my position at
the time.
Balancing myself nicely on  the seat, dipping
the oar-lladcs lntil their lower edg(es brusled
along the tide, I kept miy eyes steadily upon the
narrow aperture, and let her glide.  Nothing but
the pressure of the air upon the cheek, as the face
clove it, and the sharp whistling of the seething
cuLrret, bespeaks the swiftness with which you
niove.  Alien  near  the  narrow  gorge, - which
you must take s(tLare in the centre, and in direct
line, or smash your boat to flinders, -while the 
RUNNING THE RAPIDS.
width wvould yet allow, wishing some steerage-way
before I entered  tlie clasm, I tlrew my wvhole
streniigthl upon the oars.  The  lithe ash  bent to
the strain, and the boat quivered from  steni  to
stern tuinder the quick stroke.   Thlen, bending forw-ard upon  the seat, witli oars at a trail, I shot
into the opening between tIhe rocks.   For an instant the oar-blades grated along thleir sides, and
tlen, riding upon the crest of a wave, I passed out
of the damip passage, alnd lo! the fall whiose roar I
lad hleard yawned  just benleath  mne.   Quick  as
thloughlt, I swung, the oars ahlead, and as the billow lifted me hilgh up uipon the very brink, gave
wvay with all my mnighlt.  WAlhatever spare strengtlh
I hlad lying aiinywhere ablout ine, at that particular
point of time, I am  unider the  impression  was
throvwn into those oar-blades.  The boat was fairly
lifted off the -wav-e, and shot into tle air.  For an
instaint, it touchled neither water nor foam, theii
dropped into the boiling caldron.  Another stroke
and it darted out of the seething, mass with less
ti)an a allon of water along the bottom.
Tltc ic()id(s,ciec.n!  Wiping the sweat from
my facee, and emnptying the water from the barrels
of imy rifle, I rested oin my oars, to see the boys
coihe down\.   0, royal sight it was, to see them
coime, one after anotlier,   Johln leading the van,
-  over the verge! As boats in air they seemued,
witJh airy b)oatmen, as they came  dashing along.
83
I 
84      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
0, royal sport, to see them glide like arrows down
the steep, at all angle so sharp that I could see the
bottom board in each boat, from stein to stern!
0, noble sight to see them enter in between the
mighty rocks, -  the chasm  shutting them  from
view  a  moment, -  from  which,  emnerging  in
quick succession, with  mighty  leaps, quivering
like sporting fish, they  shot the falls triumphlantly!
WAhat sports have we in house  and city like
those whichl the children of wood and stream
enjoy? - heroic sports which mnake heroic men.
Sure I am, that never until we four have done
with boats and boating, and, under othier pilotage,
have entered into and passed through the waters
of a colder stream, shall we forget the running of
the Racquette RPapids, on that bright summer day.
And often, as we pause a moment from work,
abov-e the harsh rumble of car and cart, the sound
of file and hammer, rises the roar of the rapids.
And often, through the hot, smoky air of town
and city, to cool and refresh us, will drift, fromn
the far north, the breeze that blows forever on the
Pacquette, rich with the odors of balsam and of
pine.
That night I slept upon the floor at Palmer's,
proud to feel that I was the first "gentleman "
in the language of the guides -  "that ever ran
the rapids "; prouder of that than of deeds, at 
RUNNING THE RAPIDS.
tempted or done, of which most men would longer
dream.  I nearly forgot to state that several unearthly yells in the chamber overhead, during the
night, revealed the fact that somnebody, in dreams
was still running the rapids.
85 
IV.
THE BALL.
E were seven in all,- as jolly a set of fel        lows  as ever rollicked under the pines,
or startled the owls with laughter, that summer
of'67, whlen camping on the RPacquette.  Our company represented a variety of business and professions; but, happily, we were of one temper and
taste.
There was Hubbard, a gentleman  faultless in
bearing and speech; the fit of whose coat and the
gloss of whose boots, wliether you met him in'Wall
Street or at his manufactory in Coninecticut, might
well stir the envy of anl exquisite. There was
Ev-eritt, to whose name you could write photographer, artist, violinist; the most genial, sunny,
kind-liearted, and rollicksome fellowv that ever eiilivened a camp, or blest the world with his presence.  Southwick, when at home, supplied half the
city with soles; who sells boots and shoes in such
a manner as to make you feel, as you go stamping
away from his presence, that he has done you a special favor in condescending( to take your money at
all; a man who crossed the Isthmus, and tunnelled
I 
THE BALL.
the gulches of California for gold in 1848; a shrewd,
wide-awale Yankee, suche as are grown principally
in that smartest of all our States, -the Nutumeg
State.  And there, too, was Fitch, who lad haliidied the saw and lancet il  the army duringi, the
war.  Angd Fay, the lawyer, who  had fouglht the
battle all young  lawyers  must fight, anid won.
Andc  BLurns, andi the Parson.  A  goodly set of
fellows, one and all, equally ready for business or
fuiln.
WATe were on our way "out," bronzed and tougi
froim exposure to the sun, wfater, and wind; and
with hearts as free from care and as light as clildren's, we clomnb the hill, at thle base of which we
had run our boats ashore, and entered, with merry
greetings, Uiicle Paliner's house. What a -iungry
set we were, when, at fouLr o'clock that afternoon,
we drew up to that never-to-be forgotten table!
AWhat jokes and stories aud peals of laughter enlivened the repast, and made the table and dishes
shake and clatter as the meal progressed.   No
coarseness nor rudeness there; each man a gentleman still, amid the liveliest sally of wit and loudest roar of merriment.  At last the mneal was over,
and we adjourned to the open  air to smnoke  or
lounge, or to engage in rivalry of skill, unitil the
day, rich in its summer loveliness, should fade
away. Several matches with the rifle - the result
of boastful banter-  at last engage the attention of
87 
88      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
the entire party.  Our targets were pennies stuck
into the end of a slender stick, two or three feet
long, which Jerry held out soime thirty paces off;
the rule being that no  bullet must  graze the
stick.  Pretty close work it was, requiring steady
nerves and an exact eye; but penny after penny
had beeni dashied out of the slot, and hurled into
the oat-field beyond.   The blue smoke from the
muzzle of my rifle wvas curling gracefully into the
air as I closed the contest, when Everitt exclaimed,
" AThat shall we do to-nilght, boys? "  " Let us
have a dance," shouted Hlubbard; "Uncle's dinilngroomn is just the place to trip the lilght fantastic
toe."  And he jumped up from the log on which
he had been sitting, and struck into a doubleshuffle, which sent the chips flying in all directionIs.
" Hlurrahl! a ball, a ball! " screamed Southwick,
"unless the Parson objects.  A  speech from the
Parson! hear, hear!" he continued, as he turned a
double sumnmersault ov er Fay's back, and landed
somne distance down  the slope in an onion-bed.
Unfortunately for the Parson, Southwick's yell
was taken up, and the words "Speech!" "Ball!"
"Parson!" "..Dance!" resoiunded on all sides.
Being thus called upon, I could  not refuse to
give my opinion. Indeed, I may be pardoned
when I admit that I felt quite flattered by the
heartiness of the call.  t was more direct and 
THE  BALL.
unanimous than I ever expect to receive from any
chulrch whatever.  Moreover, for I wish the true
state of the case to be thoroughly understood, I
had not made a speech for nearly three weeks.
Now, as all my readers know, "making speeches"
is about the only bolta it(le perquisite of the profession.  This is the great advantage we have over
laymen.  The moment you take this away from
a clergyman, you rob him of his great prerogative,
and he becomes no better than an ordinary man.
May clerical readers will, I am sure, sympathize
with me inl my position. For three weeks I had
been of o10 importance whatever to the world, but
here was a chance to do some good; here, unexpectedly, an opportunity to make a speech had
presented itself.  I mounted a pile of cedar slabs,
and, trying to feel modest, began:  "Dancinlg, my friends, I remark in the first
place, is a very pernicious habit."  That was a
good beginning.  Even three weeks of constrained
and cruel deprivation hiad not deprived me of my
"gift."  Pausing a moment to note the effect of
my opening sentence upon the audience, I was
slightly embarrassed at the sight of Southwick
dropping small chips down the neck of Burns'm
shirt.  Pallying in an instant, I resumed: "It has
been the means, my hearers, of getting miany a
youing man into a scrape."  Here I paused again.
\"'hatever weakness the first sentence had in jt
89
I 
90      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
this had the true sermon ring.  No, I had not lost
my power.   My birthright had not been filched
from me. I began to feel the oratorical impulse
once more.  I drew myself up, closed the thumb
and two middle fingers of my left hand, and pointing the other two directly at the audience, as I had
seen some of our celebrated orators, clenched the
right fist, and shook it at an invisible foe over
my head, a gesture borrowed fronm some of our
Coilgressmen,   and shouted: "Dancing will be a
perilous amusement to you to-night;  because
because -"   I lost the connection here, but retiembering what a slight matter such a lapse is
in a sermon, before most congregations, and feeling that it would not do to stop just there, con~inued, -". "cc((esc it leads to a promiscuous mingling of the two sexes.   On  this ground I am
to-night, and ever shall be, opposed to it.  I warn
you against Mr. Southwick's suggestion."
At this lpoint I was interrupted by  the most
uproarious tumult.  Intense and indecorous irnerriment seized the entire group.   Hubbard  was
pressing  his hands  against his  sides  in  the
most suggestive manner.  Everitt was hamnmering Southwick with both fists upon his back, in
the hope  of saving him  from death  by  strangulation. It was impossible to proceed. I was
conscious that I ought to go on.  I had several
splendid sentences all ready for utterance. I felt 
TiHE BALL.
that every moment I wvas losing my  iold upon  the
audiencie.   Still the uproar grew.   Inii wrath, ming',led w-ith love, I descenldec(  from  tlle slabs, anid
takiing Bullrlls gently but cTecidcedly by  the collar,
cdemallnade(d  thle cause of his uLseemily mirthl.
Sobered sli(,iltly  b)y  my  attitude, whiicl-  was
sternly affectionate, Burns  mnlana,ed to articulate,
Ilow caii there be a'promiscuous miugliug of tie
sexes' in this crowd?"
I stood perfectly diiib. I saw thle justness of
the criticismi  and tihe dilemlmia s,ugg,ested.   I realized, at tlhat miom ent, the value of logical conuec
tion.
Iad my audience l)een in a clurchi, aniid devoutly
drow-sy or piously asleep, suchl a slight slip would
never hlave beeu noticed, andl the report of the
sermon-, written out b)y a (godless expert, wlho had
lot left his hotel (during, thie day, would have appeared excellently in MAnoid(Iy's papers.
I retired in hlaste and mortification  from  tlle
yelling ald rithincg group; nor did I regain my
composure  until the  sounds of  Everitt's violi
clarmel the darkness from my  soul as thle harp
of  David  exorcised  by  its mielody  the wicked
spirit fromi the bosom  of Saul.
Now Everitt is a natural fiddller.  Ile fiddlles as
easily as a rabbit runs.  AVWhile camping on Constal-le Point, on tlhe Pacquette, we hiad several
toncerts.  They were, in every sense, impromptu
91 
2ADVENTU lR,ES IN THE  WILDERINESS.
affairs.  The audience was small, bit very appreci ative.  (That sentence is not original.  I borrowed
it from the musical column of the New York Herald.) These concerts were especially well sIIstained; that is, for about four hours and a half
each time.  We had some very fine singing at
those soirees. (,ioi,rees is a good word. It sounds
well.  That's why I use it.)  I hesitate to instance individual members of this troupe, lest it
should seem invidious.  HuLbbard is an excellent
singer.  He missed his chance of eminence when
he went into business.  He should have taken to
the stage.  The Parson would have distinguished
himself, had he lived before notes were invenlted.
Nothing in the world but notes prevents him from
ranking first class. Even this fact did not preclude him from standing high in this company.
Neverthleless, I am still impressed with the thought
that he was born too late. I never listened to a
circle of aniateurs who seemed to rise so superior
to the arbitrary dcictm of the masters as did this.
Not one of them, so far as I could observe, allowed
any such artificial impediments  as notes, pitch, 
time, and the like, to obstruct the splendid outbursts of nature.  In point of emqtl)7asis, which is,
as all my readers know, the great desideratum in
music, I judge them to be unrivalled.  In that
classic stanza,
" There sat three crows upon a tree," 
THE BALL.
their emphasis was magnificent.   But I was telling about Everitt's fiddling.  Nature dealt bountiftllly withl my friend in this respect.  His capacity
and perseverance ill drawing a bow border on the
marvellous.  Indeed, he is a kind of animated musical mnachline.  Set him going, and he will l)lay
throug,h the entire list of known tunes before he
comes to a halt.  His intense activity in this direction afforded the only possible solution for the
greatest mystery of the camp,-   Everitt's appetite
w-hile in the w\ools.  I filnd in my " notes" a niatliemiatical calculation, made the fifth nigiht in caml).
It was the result of thle gravest deliberationl on
the part of the w-hole company, and is beyond
doubt nearly correct.  This is the formula:   Exhaustion of muscular fil)re througli fiddling,
two pounds per night.  Consuinption of venison
steak, three and a half pounds.
"Net gain to Everitt, one pound and a half per
night."
This concilusion contril)uted nmaterially to relieve
the muinds of the companiy from an anxiety concerning, the possible results of the trip to Everitt.
A'hen I entered the room, drawn thither, as I
have said, by the tones of the violin, the company
were in flll career.  The initricacies of the Virginia reel were beiiig threadcled out with a rapidity
wlicii, wvith ladies for partners, would have been
rathe- emibarrassing.  After the quadrille, Spanish
93 
94      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
dance, and several others hlad been g,one through,
the floor was cleared for individual  exhibitions
of skill.   Tiien was  the double-shuffle executed
withl an energy uever excelled.   Gentleinen and
ullides  conitended  in  friendly  rivalry.   Everitt
wvas in prime condition, and drew the bow with
a vehemience  which,  if lolng continlued,  would
lhave sent himi  out of the woods lighlter in flesh
by sev-eral pounds tlhan whlen hie camne in.  At last
the floor was again cleared, partners chlosen, and
witlh  every rule of etiquette observed, good old
imoniey-l-mllusk  was  hlonored,    partnlers  gallantly
saluted( as if they were ladies, jewelled and fair,
adcl the comnpany seated.
At this point the proceedings  assumed a niiew
character.   The conversatioin migh,lt be reported
thusis:
GiiicM.  "I suppose you folks down in tlhe settlemieits don't danice as we do?"
-tEvci-tt. " Well, no, iiot exactly.    Our dances
are lar(,yelv Freel."
G       iico. "I)  tell!  AWell, Jiow, how is tlTht?
Evcr?itt.  "I do not think I could give you a correct idea of tlhem; thl-ey are very peculiar."
Ulie'c.  " Comie, niow, could ii't somne of you give
us a notioii about it?  WVe would like to see how
yoi danc,e downi iii tlhe cities."
,Evcritt.  " The fatct is, we hlave  more  action  in
our dancilng thai  you lhave iii yours.   It would
I 
THE BALL.
make your eyes stick out to see a Frelich
dance."
G&iides. "Coime, now," they all shouted, "show
us how it is done; we all want to see. Give us one
of your tip-top Fretelic dances.  ComIe, nIow."
"AVell, fellows," said Everitt,,ivin, us the wink
as he tuned his -violin, "whlat say you, shall we
show our friends how to dance  a real, swinging'
Frenchl dance? If so, shall we put Hubbard or
Southvwick on the floor?"
"0, Soouthwlick by all means!" shouted Burns.
"No disparagemient to Hulbbard, but Southwick is
the mali; especially if he will give us the dance
he danced last summlier on our fishling-trip'Down
East.'"  So it was arranged, and Southwick took
the hint and the floor.
Now Southwick wsas the best dancer there; that
is, hie covered the most ground. His performaiice
w'as the tlhemlrle of universal remark.  His style
was superb.  There was a certain c()anuon ili it,
w\hich few Ainiericans could rival.  I kniow of biut
one word which  can at all describe Southwick
w\hen dancing; it is-  omnipresenit.  This epithet
is moderately accurate.
The room  was somie thirty-five feet long, bit he
was often at both ends of it at the same timre.  If
to rivet the attentionii of the autdieice is sucecess,
myV friend certainly achieved it.  There was but
one thought oni the part of the whole coimpany
95 
96      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
whenever Southwick danced; it was to get out of
the way.  Greater uianlimity in this respect was
niever seen.  Never, before that evening, did I desire that a room might have more than four corners,
but I more than once devoutly wished that that
room had had sixteen.  Sixteen would not have
been one too many, with my friend on the floor. I
called Uncle Palmer's attention to the terrible lack
of corners in his house.  At the time I made the
suggestion, the old gentleman was trying to force
himself in between the door-post and the sheathing. He appeared to appreciate it. After a few
preliminary flourishes, Everitt shouted the word
"Go!" and Southwick struck out. I saw him comimg, and dodged; I escaped.  The next time he
swung round, I was prepared for him.  There were
several wooden pins driven into the logs near the
ceiling, such as our forefathers were wont to season
their beef-hams on. Spying one of these just over
my head, as I stood flattened against the wall, I
vaulted from the floor and clutched it.  The scene
from this point of view was very picturesque.  The
fellows hiad observed my movement, and followed
mny example: it affected them like an inspiration.
In an instant the whole company were suspended
from pins around the room.  A sense of the ludicrous overcame my terror, and I began to laugh.
That laugh grew on me.  I founid myself unable to
stop laughing.  My eyes began to moisten and run 
THE BALL.
over. Now, a man cannot laui,gh in that fashion, and
lhalug on to a pin at thie saime time.   I have tried
it, and knowv.  First one finlger began to slip, then
another loosened and gave way a little; the muscles of my hand would( not obey my will to contract.  I found it impossible to reti,ghten my grip;
I knew it would probably  be fatal to drop.  I
endeavored to stop laughillng. Now, it is a wellknown  fact, that whlen one tries to stop  laug,hilgli he can't.  If you ever doubted this, reader,
never doubLt it again.  If any man strove to stop,
I did.  My effort was vain.  I fairly shook myself  off  the pin, and  dropped.   That  sobered
me.  The instant I struck the floor, all laug,hter departed.  I saw Soutlhwick coming.  I seized
hold  of  the window-sill, the  wood  of  which
was cedar;  I sunk  my  nails deep  into  it; it
hIeld(. The next time he swtungI round the circle
I was saved  bly a miracle, that is, in  a way
I cannot account for.  I was just poising myself for a pluinge at the door, when the music
ceased, and my friend sat down.   We  all cheered
him  inmmensely.   I cheered louder than all the
rest.  I never had greater cause to cheer.  Everyb)ody complimented him.  One exclaimed, "What
a free action!" another, " How liberal in style!"
I said, "Astonishing!"  We all saw that it had
made a great impression on the guides. They said
that "they had no idea folks danced so, down in
5 
97
5
o
I 
98      ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
the settlements."  "It is ii't anything to what I
could do if the room was only larger, is it?" said
he, appealing to me. "No; this room is terribly
cramped,"  I responded, thinking of my  narrow
escape, and fearful that he might repeat the performance; "no educated dancer can do himself
justice in it; I would not try again, if I were in
your place."
At this point of the entertainment a delightful
addition was made to the party. Certain mnessengers, who started early in the evening on horses
and in boats, had scoured the country and lake
shore, and returned accompanied by a bevy of
young ladies. Their entrance caused great commotion.  Hubbard glanced uneasily at hIis unpolished boots.  Burns had fished a pair of old
kids from the depth of his hunting-shirt pocket,
and was inspecting their condition behind Southwick's back.  Everitt suddenly discovered that he
could keep his seat without the use of three chairs.
The Parson brightened up at the prospect that his
philippic against dancing, and the "promiscuous
mingling of the sexes," might yet be delivered
with effect. There was a dead pause. All were
introduced to the ladies, each guide  presenting
"his man." Uncle Palmer's benignant face appeared at the door, looking perfectly jubilant.
Here the writer would gladly pause.  He feels
,fat  the  narration  has proceeded  far enough. 
THE BALL.
Would tilat hlie mii,,ht record that the company
played "blind-man's-buff;" or "roll the trencher,"
or those refined "ring plays" where healthy and
moral exhilaration is experienced by each man
l-ugging and kissing his partner.   But his duty
as a historian forbids. Truthl must not be mutilated through partiality for friends;  and, as  a
chronicler of facts, hlie is bound to say, affirm, and
transmit to posterity, that the company actually
dance(cd! Yes, that is the word, -danced. 0 temr
porca! 0 mores! which, freely translated, signifies,
"Whlat is the world coming to!"  Reader, pardon
this exhibition of virtuous feeling, this generous
outburst against the vices of the day. Even Herodotus could not have restrained himself, in my
position. But I must return to the historic style,
-the plain narration of facts.
First, Uncle Palmer led off with his wife, - age
countenancing the foibles of youth 1 Then Uncle
Ike Robinson  tripped down  the floor with his
daughter.  Next, O  ye gods! Hubbard whirled
away with a nimble-footed damsel.   Burns shot
by with little Miss Palmer, and Southwick, the
indomitable, careered along the floor with Jerry,
his guide.  (Which was the lady I cannot say.)
And last of all, "John," the trusty, honest John,
whizzed past with a lovely attachment to his arm.
The costumes of the dancers were unique. In cut
and color no one could complain of sameness.
99 
100     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
Uncle Ike was in his stockings.   John had on
tightly-laced moccasins.  Southwick sported a pair
of bright scarlet slippers. Hubbard shook the floor
with boots that had seen service on the "carry."
All were mingled together; while above the din
made by heavy boots smiting the resounding floor,
the merry laugh of girls, and peals of irrepressible
mirth, the voice of Everitt, who sat perched upon
the back of a chair, sawing away with all his
might, rang out the necessary orders.  It has been
reported that at this juncture the Parson himself
was swept by the centripetal attraction into the
revolving mass, and that the way he "cut it down"
revealed a wonderful aptness for the "double-shuffle," and that a large amount of the old Adam
remained yet to be pnrged out of his natural constitultion. The probabilities are that this report is
entirely unfounded, or at least grossly exaggerated.
At last, well along in the fashionable hours, the
revelry ceased, the company separated, and silence
settled down over the household.  With the sounds
the scene itself would have passed away and been
forgotten save by the actors, had not the pen of
the Parson rescued it from threatened oblivion,
and in these pages preserved it for transmission.
to posterity.  He thus avenges himself on those
who interrupted him in the exercise of his right,
by recounting the folly his speech would undouibtedly have prevented, had he been permitted to
proceed. 
V.
LOON-SHOOTING IN A THUNDER-STORM.
HE  shrill cry of a loon piercing the air broke
miy heavy slumber, and brought me to my
feet in an instant, rifle in hand. The night before,
late in the evening, we had run our boat ashore, and,
stretching ourselves on either side of the quickly
lighted camp-fire, with no shelter but the overhanging trees, dropped instantly to sleep.  Fromn that
slumber, almost as deep as that which is endless,
the cry of a loon had aroused me. Directly in
front of the camp, with his long black head and
spotted back glistening in the sun, some fifteen
rods from  the shore, the magnificent bird sat,
eying the camp.  If there is any sound which will
start a fellow to his feet quicker than the cry of a
loon under his camp, about six in the morning, I
have yet to hear it. Wide awake the instant I
struck the perpendicular, I dropped my rifle —
never in those woods, by day or night, beyond
reach- into the extended palm, and simultaneously the sharp concussion broke the surrounding
silence. The sight was good, and the lead well sent;
but the agile bird,-well namned the Great Northern 
102    ADVENTURES IN THE W,iLDLERNESS.
I)iver,   ever on the alert, had gone under with the
flash; and thie bullet, striking the swirl made by
his dive, glanced up, and went bounding, in everlessening skips, across the lake.  The crack of the
rifle awoke John from a slumber such as men sleep
after fourteen hours of constant rowing; andl, starting up, the fire was soon rekindled, and the cofifee
boiling.  Soon all was ready,  and we were provisioning ourselves for the coming day. Trout,
coffee, and the inevitable flapjacks made up the
bill of fare.
The morning, in its atmospheric appearances, was
peculiar. Not a breath of air was stirring. The
little lake was as liquid glass, without ripple or
seam.   Even the forest, that, like the sensitive
strings of a harp, is rarely, if ever, silent, sent
forth no sound, and its dim recesses were still as
death. Above, the clouds were dull and slaty.
They,  too, hung  motionless.   No  scud drifted
athwart their surface; no rift broke their smooth
expanse.  The sun, with its broad face barred with
streaks of cloud, looked  red and fiery.   It had
a hot, angry look, as if enraged at seeing the obstructions in its upward path.  In the west, out
of the slaty cloud, the white and feathery heads of
some cumuli upreared themselves, suggesting rain
and the hot blaze of lightning.
"John," said I, as we  each sat with a warm
trout in one hand anid a pint-cup of coffee in 
LOON-SHOOTING IN A THUNDER-STORM.   103
the other, - "John, we shall have a tough day
of it."
"Yes," said he, pausing a moment in his eating to
listen, and holding on with one hand to the tail of
a fish, of which the front half was already beyond
human sight; "there goes some thunder now"; and
even as he spoke a jar shook the earth under us,
and a heavy roar rolled uip sullenly out of the west.
We finished our meal, and thlen, lighting our
pipes, seated ourselves on the shore of the lake, in
counsel. The air was heavy, thick, and oppressive;
not a sound broke the stillness. Ilad the heavens
above us been the roof of a cavern a thousand
fathoms under earth, the breathliess quiet could not
have been deeper. The colloquy ran something in
this wise: -
" How long is the next carry, John?"
"Three miles, if we go to Bottle Pond; a mile
and a half, if we go to Salmon Lake," was the
answer.
" How is the carry to Bottle Pond?" I asked.
"A mere trapper's line," said John;"it is n't
cut out; two miles and a half by blazed trees, and
half a mile of slough."
"That's delightful!" I exclaimed;" how is it by
way of Salmon Lake?"
"It's a mile and a half to Salmon," was the
response; "not cut out; crossed only in winter by
hunters; half a mile of swamp." 
104     ADVENTLULS lIN THE WILDERNESS.
"Well, we'll go to Salmon Lake; that's the
nighlier," I said.  "Shall we get rain?
As John was about to reply, a dull, heavy sound
came up from the depths of the forest,-  a solemn,
ominous sound, breaking the dead  silence.  Anothler and another followed; a muffled roar, filling
the air, so that one migh,t not tell from what quarter it came.
"Yes," said John, as the noise died away,- " yes.
it will rain.  The old trees never lie.  Those sounds
you  have just heard are made  by falling trees.
You always hear them before a storm."
"But, Jolhn," I exclaimed(l, " whlat makes tiem
fall this morning?  There is not a breath of air
stirring.
"I don't know," responded Johln, "what makes
them fall.  I have often thoiu,Iht how queer it is.
Alany a tihe have I sat in my canoe on a morning like this, when there was  not wind  enough
to float a feather, and seen the old fellows conime
crashing down.  I tell you whlat," continuied hlie,
"it makes a man feel solemn, to see tree after tree,
great, giant chaps, a hundred and fifty feet high,
begin all of a sudden to quiver and reel, and t.hlen
fall headlong to the ground; whlen, for aught you
can see, there is no earthly cause for it.  Let us sit
still a moment and hear them."
I did as requested.   Now, far aw,ay in the forest,
tlie same dull, heavy roar would arise, linger a mo 
LOON-SHOOTING IN A THUNDER-STORM.    105
ment in the air, then die away. Then, nigh at hand,
a rtishling sound, as the broom-like top of some
mighty pine swept  througih  the air, would fall
upon the ear, followed by the crash of broken
boughis and the heavy ttulnp of the huge trunk
as it smote the earthi.   Then, far away, half
smothered between  the  mnountains,  would rise
again the dulil roar, and we knew another monarch of the woods had yielded its life at an
unknown sllmlnolls.
I am free to confess, that John's remark as t,
the effect of silch a phenomenon upon one, was
then and there filly verified by myself.  I know
nothing more mysteriously sole mn than this sounnd
of falling trees coming up from the forest, — falling,
so far as you can see, without cause.  Wlhat unseen
hand smites them?  Wlhat pressure, unfelt by man,
pushes their vast trunks over?  Is it to the Spirit
of the coming Storm they b)ow, prostrating themselves in anticipation of his chariot's approach? Is
there some subtle and hostile chemlistry inl thle air
which penetrates their fibres, weakening thiem to
their fall?  Or do these aged patriarchls of the
wood, with fearful prophecy, foresee their houi
of doom, and, in the breathless lull ere the tempest breaks, yield like an ancient Roman to their
fate?
"Perchance," I said to Jolhn, " He who noteth
the falling of a sparrow and miarkleth the boundary
5* 
106     ADVENT URES IN THE WILDERNESS.
of human life, hath given the trees a limit also,
which they may not pass; and these are being
summoned, and so go down."
We sat a moment in silence; then, with a common impulse, without a word, arose, and, gathering
up our traps, made ready for a start. As we pushed
out into the lake, we saw that the clouds in the
west were blacker; a flash of lightning ran along
their upper  verge, and the mountain above  us
caught up the heavy boom, and, as if enraged at
the intrusion on its silence, hurled it back angrily
toward the cloud.  At the same instant the shrill,
mocking cry of a loon rose into the air, mingling
with the reverberations of the thunder, as light
treble notes break sharply through a heavy volume of bass.
"There's the confounded loon," exclaimed John,
"that frightened the deer from the shore last night.
If it was n't for that thunder-shower in the west,
we'd teach her to keep her mouth shut before we
left the  pond.  I think  you  might  start the
teathers off her back any way, tube or no tube."
The last sentence needs explanation.   Loons
are the shyest and most expert swimmners of all
waterfowl. Twenty rods is as near as you can get
to them. WVhen under fire, they sink themselves
into the water so that nothing but the feathers
along their backs and heads are in sight, and so
quick are they that they dive at the flash, getting 
LOON-SHOOTING IN A THUNDER-STORMI.   107
under in time to escape the bullet.  Yet I have
killed them repeatedly on Long( Island Sound, driving my bullet through the butt of the wing, thirty
rods away. There are two styles of gun-tubes; the
first kind is so open as to allow the powder to pass
up to the cap.  When the cap explodes, this powder must burn grain by grain, and so comparatively slow.  The other kind is so made as to prevent
the powder  from  passing  up into it; and the
ligiltning-like percussion  has free course  to  the
centre of the charge in the chamber. Slight as the
difference would seem to be, it is a vital one in
loon-shooting.  With tribes of either make  in the
barrels of my rifle, loading with the same charge, I
have killed withl the one and invariably failed to
kill with the other.  Unfortunately, the tubes in my
barrels this season were both open ones; and to this
John alluded ill his closing remark.
"John," said I, couiting out fifty bullets and
laying them on the bottom of the boat within
easy reach, "there  are fifty bullets; and if you
say the word, shower or no shower, we'11ll give that
old loon a lively time before we strike the carry."
"'\Well," said John as he ran his eye over the
western heavens, now black as night, save when a
bright flash clove the darkness or leaped crinkling
along the inky mass, "let's give her a try.  We
shall have an hour, anyway, before the rain reaches
us, and I would like to see that loon in the bottom
of the boat." 
108     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
Dipping his paddle into the water with a strong
sweep, hie turned the bow of the light boat about,
and started toward the bird. Light as a cork the
loon sat upon the water, some sixty rods away, its
neck, marked with alternate rings of white and
b)lack, proudly arched, and almost at every breath
sending forth its clarion cry, as if in boastful chial lenge.
"Soiund away, you old pirate you!" exclaimed
John, as he swept along; "we'11 miake you shorten
your neck, and sit lower in the water before we
are through with you."
And even as he spoke the bird settled slowly
down, until nothing buLt a line of feathers lay along
the water, and the quick, restless head, with its
sharp-pointed bill, was barely above the surface.
"See her," said Johln; "I warrant she has smnelt
powder audT heard the whistle of lead before thlis.
I wish shie did n't know quite so mniuch, or else that
that cloud would pass back of the mountains."
The plan proposed was to keep her under water, giving her no time to rest after her long dives,
and so tire her out that she would be forced to rise
often to the surface to breathe.  Before we had
come within forty rods the loon went under.
"Now," shouted Jolin, as he shot the boat toward the wake, "the Lord only knows where she'11
come up; but we will take that swirl of water for
our centre, and, whien she breaks, you show her
what she may expect." 
LOON-SHOOTINXG IN A THUNDER-STORM.   109
"There she rises," I exclaimed, as we swept over
the wake.  "Steady with your paddle, there"; and
as I spoke, catching the line of feathers along the
sights, I launched the bullet toward her.
"Well done'" said John, as the spray made by
the smitten water broke over her webbed feet,
jerked oit of the lake by her frantic effort to get
iunder; "load quick, and save the other barrel for
emergencies."
After some twenty shots sihe began to come more
quickly to the surface; and as we took the wake
she made in diving, for our centre, the circuilferenlce
described throughl hier position whenl she arose grew
nearer and nearer to tihe boat.
" NowN," said John, as the loon went under for the
twenty-fifth time, " when she rises again take hier
before she shakes the water out of her eyes. I
saw the directioni of the dive, and she will colie lup
in the line of that dead hemilock there."
I fastened iiiy eyes upon the spot, and, catching
the first ripple throiug(i the sights, tihe ball strtuck
above her back before a feather  was in siglit.
Wihetlier the bullet had ruffled her plumiag(e somnewhat, or from some other cause, for the first time
she rose in the water and shook hier narrow wings,
uttering a defiant cry.
"Steady there," I whispered hoarsely to John.
For an instant the tottlislf boat, which  the weight
of iily ramrod would jar, stood, held by the paddle, 
110     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
as motionless as thou,gli embedded in ice; and as
the sharp crack of the other barrel sounded, the
loon was knocked flat over upon her back.
"There, you old -"
I don't know exactly what John was about to
say, for he did not say it; for as he spoke the loon,
with a mighty splash, went down, leaving a hundred feathers around her wake. The bullet had
rasped along her side, shearing off the speckled
plumage, but had not penetrated sufficiently deep
into her body to disable her. By this time the
heavens, toward the west, even to the zenith, were
black as ink. The red lightning darted its zigzag course this way and that, amid the gloom;
white, fleecy clouds raced athwart the dark expanse,
and ever and anon a fierce -whirlwind, in miniature, would settle down upon the water, and spin
across the glassy bosom of the lake; while the
thunder, peal on peal, crashed above the mountains, until the very air and water shook and quivered at the shock. To a looker-on the scene would
have been grand in the extreme.  Amid the gathering gloom, now dense as twilight, the light boat
went moving hither and thlither, now gliding straight
ahead, now swerving in lessening circles around the
spot of the anticipated rising, while above the crackling thunder rose the clear report of the rifle, whose
barrels, choked with smut, and dangerously hot
from rapid firing, rang fiercely sharp, as if in angry 
LOON-SHOOTING IN A THUtNDER-STORM.   111
protest at the abuse.   The gloom grew darker.
The wind, in quick, nervous puffs, broke over the:
mountain, and where it touched the lake lifted
the spray high into the air.  A few plunging drops
of rain smote the water and boat like bullets.
The hot lightning fairly hissed through the murky
atmosphere above us; so sharp, so bright, so close,
that the lake at times seemed as on fire, burning
with a blue, ghastly light.  The thunder was incessant.  The  dwellers in lowland countries know
nothing what thunder is amid the hills. No single
clap or peal was there, but rush and roar continuous, and crackling bolts and rumble and jar. Across
the lake, over our heads, the volleys went.  The
mountain eastward, receiving a bolt against its
sides, would roll it back, while the mouitain opposite, catching the mighty boom as players do a
ball, would hurl it sharply home. And so the wild
play went on. Mountain besieging mountain, hill
pelting hill; while we, amid the deepening gloon
and tumult, swept hithier and thither, keeping sight
of the loon, whose rises were frequent and breath
nearly gone.
"John," said I, shouting so he could hear me amid
the confusion,-  " John, pull for the shore; it's
time to go."
"Give her a-?  m*-" said John; "here she rises,
over your left"; and gs the smoke from the discharge floated up, split by a gust, John shouted:
-t-J,.  
112     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS:
" ready with your other barrel there.  The loon
is tiring.  I hear her blow when she comes up.
She can't stay under long. I'11 run you down
uLpon her soon.  HEPRE she is!"  he screamed,
"dery our vcery, muzzles! "
I turned, and sure enouLih there sat the loon
within six feet of the boat, in the very act of shaking the water from her eyes.  The rifle lay across
my knee, the barrels in direct lnhe with the bird.
Without lifting it, or moving an inch, I pulled,
and water, smoke, and feathers flew into the air
togethler.  A loud "'quack" from the loon, and a
convulsive yell from John, his mouth opening and
shutting spasmodically as roar after roar of almost
hysterical laughter came pourinig out, followed the
discharge.  I was just fitting a cap to a freshly
charged barrel, when the loon broke the water
again at short range, her back nearly bare  of
feathers; and as she dived another tuft flew up,
cut by the passing ball, and John pronounced her
"nearly picked."  But now the storm broke over
the mounitain.  The rush and roar and crash of
wind and thunder drowned the report, and only
by the flash might a spectator know I was firing.
The gloom grew thicker. A cloud settled over the
lake, and we were wrapped within its fleecy folds.
Only once more, as a flash clove through the fog, I
saw the loon, and fired. Then dense and dark the
storm  swept down around us.  Wild, fitful gusts 
jiC-1,;i 
N 
LOON7-SHOOTING IN A THUNDER-STORM.   113.
tore tlihrou(lh  tlile air. Thle ligitning crinkled tlhroug,h
thie fog;  white patchies  of froth  and  splashiing
drops of rain drifted over and fell into the boat;
w-hile, as a bass to tlie wi7ld minstrelsy of burstlig
!)olts, the dull, imonotonouLs,  roar  of  thle  stormi,
wvlhose heavy-footed squadronls were chlarging over
the niouintain's brow, rose witlh dread, aiugmenting
grandeur.   The quivering of the frail boat told ime
that Johlin was vigorously plying, his paddle; and
in a momenlt we siot into thle lily-pads, anld, pulling our boat ashlore, turnled it l)ottoni side up alid
crawled unLder it, just as the grayislh sheet of pluntging w\ater swept ov-er lus, and the floods camne down.
Thlere we  lay, safely shleltered,  recgrettilng tle
stormn, and recounting the ludicrous passages of
thle contest, until thle water, gathering in a pool
tieneatlh the  boat,  saturated  our garinents  and
warned us to be moving.   Sugg,esting to Johlin that
"we hlad better not stay under that boat until it
floated off," wve crawled out from unLder our temporary shelter; wlhich, Johlu remarked,  " had a good
roof, bout a mighity poor cellar."  Standing, as a p-)reI iminary cautioni, long enougl in thie rain to get thorougihly wet, wve prepared for the start.   An  uncut
carry for nearly two miles lay before us, the first
half of which ran directly thiroughi a swamp, now
filled to overflowing with water.  WVe hIlad a toughi
experience in gettingi tlhroughi, whiclh the reader
will find described in thie next chapter.
H 
VI.
CROSSING THE CARRY.
JIOHN," said I, as we stood looking at each
other across the boat, "this rain is wet."
It generally is, up in this region, I believe,"
he responded, as he wiped the water out of his
eyes with the back of his hland, and shook the accumulating drops from nose and chin; "but the
waterproof I have on has lasted me some thirtyei,ht years, and I don't think it will wet through
to-day."
" AVell!" I exclaimed, "there is no use of standing here in this marsh-grass any longer; help me
to load up.  I'11 take the baggage, and you the
boat."
"You'11 never get through with it, if you try to
takle it all at once.  Better load liglht, and I'll
come back after what's left," was the answer.
"I tell you," he continued, "the swamp is full of
water, and soft as muck."
"John," said I, "that baggage is going over at
one load, sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish.  I'11 make the attempt, swamp or no swamnp.
My life is assured against accidents by fire, water,
PI 
CROSSING THE CARRY.
and mud; so here goes.  Whlat's life to glory? "I
exclaimed, as I seized the pork-bag, and drat(efi
it from under the boat; " stand by and see me put
my armnor on.
Over my back I slung the provision-basket,
made  like a fishermian's  creel, thirty inches by
forty, filled with plates, coffee, salt, and all the
impediccittta of camp and cooking utensils.  This
was held in its place by straps passing over the
shoulders and under the arms, like a Jew-pedler's
pack.   There  might have been  eighty pounds
weight in it.  Upon the top of the basket Jolhn
lashed miy knapsack, full of bullets, powder, and
clothing.  My rubber suit and  heavy  blanket,
slung around my neck by a leather thong, hung
downi in front across my chest.  On one shoulder,
the oars and paddles were balanced, with a fryingpan and gridiron swinging fromnt the blades; on
the other  was my  rifle, from which  were  suspended a pair of boots, my creel, a coffee-pot, and
a bag( of flour.  Taking up the bag of pork in one
lhand, and seizing the stock of the rifle with the
othler, from two fing,ers of which hung a tili kettle of prepared trout, which we were loath to throw
away, I started.  Picture a man so loaded, forcing
his way through a hemlock swamp, through whose
floor of thin moss he sank to his knees; or pickig, h1is way across oozy sloughs on old roots, often
covered with mud and water, anll, slippery beyond
115
L@ 
116     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
description, and you have me daguerreotyped in
your mind. Well, as I said, I started. For some
dozen rods I got on famously, and was congratulating myself with the thought of an easy transit,
when a root upon which I had put my right foot
gave way, and, plunging headlong into the mud,
I struck an attitude of petition; while the fryingpan and gridiron, flung off the oars and forward by
the movement, alighted upon my prostrated head.
An ejaculation, not exactly religious, escaped me,
and withi a few desperate flounces I assumed once
mnore the perpendicular. Fishing the frying-pan
from the mrnud, and lashing the gridiron to my belt,
I made another start.  It was hard work.  The
most unnatural adjustment of weight upon my
back made it difficult to ascertain just how far
behind mie lay the centre of equilibrium.  I found
where it did not lie, several times. Before I had
gone fifty rods, the camnp-basket weighed one hundred and twenty pounds.   The pork-bag felt as
if it had several shoats in it, and the oar-blades
stuck out in the exact form  of an X.  If I went
one side of a tree, the oars would go the other
side.  If I backed up, they would manage to get
entangled anmid the brush.  If I stumbled  and
fell, the confounded things would  come like a
goose-poke athwart my neck, pinning me down.
As I proceeded, the mud grew deeper, the roots
farther apart, and the blazed trees less frequent. 
CROSSING THE CARRY.
Never  before did I so truly realize the aspiration
of the  old ivmn, -
" 0, had I thle wings of a dove!"
At last I reached, whiat seenled impossible to
pass, - an oozy slotiugh, crossed here and there
by cedar roots, sniooth and slippery, lay before Ime.
From a high stump whichl  I had climnbed upon I
gave a desperate leap.  I struck where I expected,
,nd a little farther.  The weight of the basket,
which was  now  something  over  two  ihundred
pounds, was too much for me to check at once.  It
[)ressed me forward.  I recovered myself, and the
abominable oars carried me as far the other way.
The moccasins of w-et leather began to slip along
the roots.  They began to slip very often; and, at
bad times. I found it necessary to change my position suddenly.  I changed it.  It was n't a perfect
success. I tried again. It seemed necessary to
keep on trying.   I suspect I did not effect the
changes very steadily, for the trout began to jump
about in the pail and fly out into tile mud.  The
gridiron got uneasy, and played against may side
like a steam-flapper.  In fact, the whole baggage
seemed endowed with supernatural powers of
motion.  The  excitement was  contagious.  In a
moment, every article was jumping about like
mad.  I, in the mean time, continued to dance a
hornpipe on the slippery roots Now I am con
117 
118     ADVENTURES IN THE WTLI)ERNESS.
scicntiously opposed to dancing.  I never danced.
I did n't want to learn.  I felt it was wicked for
me to be hlopping aroiund  on that root so.  What
an exanple, I thougi,t, if John should see me!
AVWhat would my wife say?  Whlat would my deacons say?  I tried to stop.  I could n't.  I had
an astonlisliing dislike to sit down.   I thought I
woulld dance there forever, rather than sit down,
deacons or no deacons.  The basket now weighed
any  imaginable number  of pounds.   The  trout
were leaping about my head, as if in their native
element.  The gridiron was in such rapid motion,
that it wvas impossible  to distinguish the bars.
There was, apparently, a whole litter of pig,s in the
pork-bag.  I could not stand it longer.   I concluLded to rest awhile.  I wanted to do the thing
gracefutlly.  I looked around for a soft spot, and
seeing one just behind me, I chlecked myself.  My
feet flew out from under me.  They appeared to be
unusually light. I don't remember that I ever sat
down  quicker.   The motion  was very decided.
The only difficulty I observed was, that the seat I
had gracefully settled into had no bottom.   The
position of things was extremely picturesque.
The oars wvere astride my neck, as usual. The
trout-pail was bottom up, and the contents lying
about almost anywhere.  The boots were hanging
on a dry limb overhead. A capital idea. I thought
of it as I was in the act of sitting down. One 
CROSSING THE CARPRY.
piece of pork lay at my feet, andl another was
sticking up, sonime ten feet off, in the mud.  It
looked very queer,   slightly out of place.  With
the saiae motion withl whichl I hung my boots on
a limb, as I seated myself, I stuck my rifle carefilly into the mud, imuzzle downward.  I never saw
a gu<n in that position before.  It struck mne as
being a goodl thing.  There was no danger of its
falling over and breaking the stock.  The first
thing I did was to pass the gridiron under me.
AVhen that feat was accominplished, I felt more composedcl.  It's pleasant for a man in the position I
was in to feel that he has something under hinm.
Even a chip or a small stuminp would have felt
comfortable.  As I sat thinking how many uses a
gridiron could be put to, and estimating where I
should then have been if I had n't got it under
me, I heard John forcing his way, with the boat
on his back, through the thick undergrowth.
It won't do to let John see me in this position," I said; and so, with  a mighty effort, I
disengaged myself from  the pack, flung off the
blanket from around my neck, and seizing hold
of a spruce limb which I could fortunately reach,
drew myself slowly up.  I had just time to jerk
the rifle out of the mud and fish up about half of
the trout, when John came struggling along.
"John," said I, leaning unconcernedly against
a tree, as if nothing had happened, - "John,
119 
120     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
put down  thIe boat, here's  a splendid spot  to
rest."
"Well,  IMr. Murray,"  queried  John,  as  he
emerged from uinder the boat, "how are you getting alone?"
"Capitally!" said I; "the Carry is very level
when you once get down to it.  I felt a little out
of breath, and thoughlit I would wait for you a few
moments."
"What's your boots doing up there, in that
tree?" exclaimed John, as he pointed up to where
they hung dangling from the limb, about fifteen
feet above our heads.
"Boots doing!" said I, "why thley are hanging
there, don't you see.  You  didn't suppose I'd
drop them into this mud, did you?"
"W Ahy, no," replied John, "I don't suppose you
w uld; but how about this?" he continued, as
he stooped down and pulled a big trout, tail foremost, out of the soft muck; "how did that trout
come there?"
"It must have got out of the pail, somehow,"
I responded; "I thought I heard something drop,
just as I sat down."
"What in thunder is that, out there?" ex
claimed John, pointing to a piece of pork, one
end'of which was sticking about four inches out
of the water; "is that pork?"
"Well, the fact is, John," returned I, speaking 
;;-Th<-~~-~I? j I
/ A'
-~
'4                                   
~
I
I Z7z
I', I 
4 
CROSSING THE CARRY.
withl the utmost graTvity, andl in a tone intended to
suL-g,est a mystery, -" the fact is, John, I don't
(eite understand it.  This Carry seems to be all
covered over withl pork.  I would n't be surprised to
find a piece anywhere.  There is another junk,
now," I exclaimned, as I plung,ed my moccasin into
tlhe mud and kicked a twao-pound bit toward him;
"it's lying all round here, loose."
I thought John would split with laughter, but
iny time came, for as in one of his paroxysms he
turned  partly around, I sawv that his back was
covered with mud clear up to his hat.
" Do you always sit down on your coat, John,"
I inquired, "when you cross a Carry like this?"
"Come, colie," rejoined he, ceasing  to laugh
from very exhaustion, "take a knife or tin plate,
and scrape the nmuck frola my back.  I always
tell my wife to make my clothes a ground color,
but the color is laid on a little too thick this
timnie, anywvay."
"Jolhn," said I, after having scraped himn down,
"take the paddle and spear my boots off from
that limb up there, while I tread out this pork."
Plungingi into the slough,  balancing here on a
L)og, and( there on an underlying root, I succeeded
iii concentrating the scattered pieces at one point.
A, I was shying, the last junk into the bag,, a
di:appointecd grunt from John caused mne to look
around.  I took in the situation at a glance.  The
6~~~~~~~~~~~t
6
121
.1 
122     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
boots were still suspended from the limb. The
paddle and two oars had followed suit, and lay
cosily amid the branches, while John, poising
himself dexterously on the trunk of a fallen
spruce, red in the face and vexed at his want of
success, was  whirling  the frying-pan over  his
head, in the very act of letting it drive at the
boots.
"Go ii), John! " I shouted, seizing hold of the
gridiron with one hand and a bag of bullets with
the other, while tears stood in my eyes from very
laughter; "when  we've got all the rest of the
baggage up in that hemlock, I'11 pass up the boat,
and we'11 make a camp."
The last words were barely off my lips, when
John, having succeeded in getting a firm footing,
as he thought, on the slippery bark, threw all his
strength into the cast, and away the big iron pan
went whizzing up through the branches.  But,
alas for human  calculation!   The rotten bark
under his feet, rent by the sudden pressure as he
pitched the cumbrous missile upward, parted from
the smooth wood, and John, with a mighty thump
which seemed almost to snap his head off, came
down uponl the trunk; while the frying-pan, gyrating like a broken-winged bird, landed rods away
in the marsh.  By this time John's blood was up,
and the bombardment began in earnest.  The first
thing he laid his hand on was the coffee-pot. I 
CROSSING THE CARRY.
followed suit wvith the gridiron.  Thlien my fishingbasket and a bag of bullets iiiounted upward.
Never before was such a battle waged, or such
weapons used.  The air was full of missiles.  Tin
plates, oar-locks, the axe, gridiron, and pieces of
pork were all in the air at once. How long the
contest would have continued I caninot tell, had it
not been brought to a glorious termination; but at
last the heavy iron camip-kettle, huirled by John's
nervous wrist,  striking the  limb fair, crashed
through like a forty-pound shot, and down came
boots, oars, paddle, and all.  Gathering the scattered articles together, we took our respective burdens, and  pushed  ahead. Weary  and hot, we
reached at length the margin of the swamp, and
our feet stood once more upon solid ground.
At this juncture another cloud from out of the
west swept up the heavens, and its distended
borders, heavy with rain, parted, and down the
plunging torrents  came.   The  wind, sweeping
through  the  lofty  pine-tops  over  our heads,
sounded like the rush of airy squadrons charging
to battle.  The lightning blazed amid the descending sheets of water, lurid and red, or shot its electric currents amid the trees; while, overhead, peal
and boom and rattling volleys rolled and broke.
Forcing our way along through spruce and balsam
thickets, and heavy undergrowth of deer-bush,
which flapped their broad flat leaves, loaded with
123 
124    ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
water, into our eyes, we came upon a giant pine,
which some descending bolt had struck, far up
amid the topmost  branches, and  riven  to the
very roots. Hug,e slabs, twenty feet in length, and
weighing, hundreds of pounds, torn out from the
very heart, thrown a dozen rods on either side,
and the ground strewn with yellow splinters, bore
palpable witness of the lightning's power. Pausing a moment amid the wreck and ruin, looking into the yellow heart of that riven pine, weeping great drops of odorous gum, how weak the
effort of man appeared beside the power of nature.
What is our boasted strength of brawn and niuscle compared with the terrific forces which lie hidden amid the elements? And what is ours or
theirs beside the power of Himn who holds their
violence in check, and uses at will the wild chemistry of the skies?
At length (for all journeys have an end) we
tore our way through the last opposing thicket,
and stood upon the coveted beach. The dreaded
Carry was crossed; and, as if to reward our toil
and cheer our drooping spirits, even as we lay
panting upon the wet sands, the cloud above us
parted, and the bright sun came out, gemming the
dripping trees with jewels, and swathing the lake
in golden sheen. Patches of fleecy fog rose from
the shores, and, changing to yellow mist as the
sun warmed them, floated lazily along the moun 
CROSSING THE CARRY.
tain's side.   Kindling  a fire, we  cooked some
coffee, watching, as we drank it, the bright verinilion bow which grew upon the eastern cloud,
until it spanned the horizon from north to south;
from under whose  arch of gold and azure the
heavy-tong,ued thunder rolled its dying cadences
(a away eastward over the t,acquette.
125 
VII.
ROD AiMD REEL.
" I PR. MUPRRAY, wake up! the pancakes are
readv  " thouted John.
Aroused by the familiar cry, I arose, and, walking down to the shore of the lake, waded out into
its tide, and, plunging my head under water, held
it there for a moment, while the delicious sense of
coolness ran through my system; then I raised it,
turning my dripping face straight toward the bright,
warm sun.  0 the sweet experience of that moment! How  cool the water; how fresh the air;
how clear the sky;  how fragrant the breath of
balsam and of pine! 0 luxury of luxuries, to have
a lake of crystal water for your wash-bowl, the
morning zephyir for a towel, the whitest sand for
soap, and the odors of aromatic trees for perfumes!
What belle or millionnaire can boast of such surroundings?
Fresh as an athlete in training, I returned to
camp and to breakfast.  Breakfast in the wilderness means something.  No muttering about "those
miserable rolls"; no yawning over a small strip of
steak, cut in the form of a parallelogram, an inch 
ROD AND REEL.
and a half by three; no lying about tawny-colored
water by calling it "coffee."  No; but up in the
woods you take a pancake, twelve inches across
(just the diameter of the pan), and one inch thick,
aId go conscientiously to work  to surround it.
You seize a trout ten or fourteen inches loug, and
send it speedily to that bourne from whence no
trout returns.  You lay hold of a quart pan full
of liquid whlich has the smack of real Java to it,
made pLungent with a sprinkling of Mocha; and
the first you know you see your face in the bottom
of the dish.  And the joke is, you keep doing so,
right alongo', for some thirty minutes or more, rising
lfrom each meal a bigger, if not a better man.
The meal was finished.  It did not take long to
wash the dishes; and over the remnants of what
had once been a feast we sat in council.
"John, what shall we do to-day? "
"      ATell, I think," said John, "we'11 take some
trout.  I told you, when we started, you should see
a three-pounder before we got back; and here we
are within twenty miles of the Racquette, and my
promise unfulfilled. I know a little lake, hidden
away bLack of that hard-wood ridge yonder, which
is one hug,e spring-hole; and when scouting through
here on mny own account, some six years ago, I
tootk some fish from it such as you seldom see.  I
doubt if there has been a fly on it since; and if
the breeze will freshen a little, you'll have rare
sport."
127 
128     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
Soon after, John shouldered the boat, and  we
started.   Some  forty  iniiiutes' tramp,  atod  we
reached the shore and made our camiip.  From it
the scene was delightful.  The lake wA;s nearly
circular, some half a mile across, its waters deep
and clear.  Into it, so far as we could seCe, no water
came; out of it no water went.   It was, as John
had called it, one huge spring-liole; tle mountains
on all sides sloped gradually up, an unbroken sw-eep
of pine and balsam, save whiere, at intervals, a
silver-beech  or round-leaved maple reliev-ed the
sombre color withl lighter hues.  Tius secl(uded,
seldom visited by man, the little lake reposed,
mirroring the surroulndilig, hills in its cool depths,
and guarded safely b)y them.  We stepped into
our boat and glided out toward the centre of the
pool.  Not a motion in the air; not a ripple oil
the water.  At last the beeches along the western
slope began to rustle.  The mournful pines felt the
pressure of airy fingers amid their strings, an(i
woke  to solemn sound.   The zephyr at lengtil
reached the lake, and the cool water thrilled iniito
ripples at its touch; while the pool, which aln ilstant before shone under the sun like seamless
glass, shook with a thousand tiny undulationis.
"Now,"  said  John,  "if the fish  lave nii't all
drowned since I was here, you'11 see'em soon.
When  one rises I'11 put you within casting distance of the wake, and if hlie likes it he'11 take the 
ROD AND REEL.
fly.  If one takes, strike hard; for their jaws are
stout and bony, and you must hook them well or
you'll lose them in the struggle."
We  sat  and  watched.   "There!"  suddenly
shouted John; "one is n't dead yet."  And whirlilg the boat about, he sent it flying toward a swirl
ill the water, some twenty rods away, made by a
rising fish whose splash I had heard but did not
see.  WVe had traversed half the distance, perhaps,
and all alert I sat, holding the coil and flies between my  fingers, ready for a cast, when, as we
shot along, a bright vermilion flash gleamed for
an instant far below us, and a broad, yellow-sided
beauty broke the surface barely the length of nmy
rod from the boat. The swoop of a swallow is
scarcely swifter than was the motion of the boat as
John shied it one side, and, with a stroke which
would have snapped a less elastic paddle, sent it
circling around the ripples where the fish went
down.  Twice did I trail the flies across the circle
and meet with no response; but hiardly had the
feathers touched the water at the third cast, when
the trout came up with a rush. He took the fly as
a hunter might take a fence, boldly.  I struck, even
as he hung in mid-air, and down he went. After a
sharp fight of some ten minutes' length the trout
yielded, the fatal net enclosed him, and he lay flapping within the boat. Thus five were captured in
little more than an hour's time, good two-and-a             6*                          I
129 
130     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
half-pound fish each of them,-a string which a
marn  iliht contemplate with pride.  We paused
a imomient to give John tinme to inspect the tackle
to see if it was all right.  The trout had made
sad wvork with the flies.  The largest and strongest
came out of their mnoutths bare to the shank.  Five
ruined flies lay with the five captured trout on
the bottom of the boat.
"Mr. Mutrray," said Jobhn at length, as he sat
looking at the muangled flies; "have n't you soniethiling larger?  These trout are regular sharks."
"Nothing," replied I, ruininlig over the leaves
of mIy fly-book, "except these huge salmon-flies"
and I held half a dozen gaudy fellows out towarcl himn, the hooks of which were nearly two
inches in length, covered with immense hackle of
variegated floss, out of whose depths protruded
a pair of enormous wings, and brilliant with hues
of the ibis and the English jay.
"Let's try one, anyway," said John, laughing. "Nothin, is too big for a fish like thiat!"
and he nodded his head toward a deep swirl made
in the water as a monstrous fellow rose to the surface, closed his jaws on a ihuge dragon-fly that had
stopped to rest a moment on the water, and, throwing his tail, broad as your hand, into the air, darted
downward into the silent depths. "There," continued he, as hlie tossed the tuft of gay feathers
into the air, "that's the first pullet's-tail I ever
1.
.1 
ROD AND REEL.
noosed on to a leader.   A  trout that takes that
will be worth baking.  Lengthen your line to the
last foot you can cast, and when a big one rises
I'11 put you within reach of his wake."
WVe sat for several minutes in silence, watching.
At last, some fifteen rods away, a imagnificent fish
shot up out of the water after a butterfly which
chanced to be winging its way across the lake, and
missing it by only a few inchles, fell back with a
splash into the very ripple he made in rising.
"Now!" shouted John, as he sent the light boat
skiimingii  over the water, "give him the feathers,
and if he takes, sink the hook to the very shlank
into his jaws."
I pitched the coil into the air, and by the time
it had fairly straightened itself out the boat was in
reach of the wake; and, obedient to the quick turn
of the wrist, the huge fly leaped ahead.  It had
iiot reached the surface by a yard, when the water
parted and out came the trout, his mouth wide
open, quivering from  head to tail with the energy
of the leap; mnissed, as he had before, and fell back
flat upon his side.
"Quick, quick! cast away!" shouted John, as
with  a stroke of the  paddle he sent  the boat
sheering off to give me room for the cast.
Feeling, that there was not an instant to lose, by
a sudden jerk I caused the fly to mounIt straight
up into the air, trusting to the motion of the boat
131 
132     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
to straighten the slack as it fell. John understood
the motion; the boat flew round as on a pivot, and
glided backward under the reversed stroke.   It
was well done, as only Johni could do it; nor was
it a second too soon; for as the tuft of gay plumes
alighted amid the ripples, the huge head of the
trout came out of water, his mouth opened, and,
as the feathers disappeared between his teeth, I
struck with all my might. Not one rod in twenty
would have stood that blow. The fish was too
heavy even to be turned an  inch.   The line
sungy, and water flew out of the compressed
braids, as though I had sunk the hook into an
oak beam.
Peader, did you ever land a trout?  I do not
ask if you ever jerked some poor little fellow out
of a brook three feet across, with a pole six inches
around at the butt, and so heavy as to require both
hands and feet well braced to hold it out. No,
that's not landing a trout. But did you ever sit in
a boat, with nine ounces of lance-wooa for a rod,
and two hundred feet of braided silk in your
double-acting reel, and hook a trout whose strain
brought tip and butt together as you checked him
in some wild flight, and tested your quivering line
from gut to reel-knot?  No one knows what game
there is in a trout, uniless he has fought it out,
matchiing such a rod against a three-pound fish,
with forty feet of water underneath, anld a clear, 
ROD AND REEL.
unimpeded sweep around him!  Ah, then it is
that one discovers what will and energy lie within the mottled skin of a trout, and what a Iniracle of velocity he is when roused.  I love the
rifle, and I have looked along the sights and held
the leaping blood back by an effort of will, steadyino, myself for the shot, when miy veins fairly
tingled with the exhilarating excitement of the
moment; but if one should ask me what is my
conception of pure physical happiness, I should
assure him that the highest bodily beatitude I
ever expect to reach is, on some future day, when
the clear sun is occasionally veiled by clouds, to
sit in a boat once more upon that little lake, with
John at the paddle, and match again a Conroy
rod against a three-pound trout.  That's what I
call I(tppincss!
Well, as I said, I struck; and, as we afterwards
discovered, the huge salmon-hook was buried to
the shank amid the nerves which lie at the root of
a trout's tongue.  Then came a fight for the mas
tery such as never before had I waged with anything that swims.  Words should have life in them
to depict the scene.  Quick as a flash, before I
had fairly recovered my balance, partially lost by
the energy with which I struck, the trout started,
and before I could get a pressure upon the line,
not twenty' yards were left on the reel. A quick
stroke from John, and the boat shot one side; and
133 
134     ADVENTURES IN THE WILD)ERNESS.
bearing stoutly on him, tasking the rod to the last
ounce of resistance, I slowly swayed him  about
and recovered a little slack. After a few short
sweeps he doubled on the line and shot straight
for the boat as an arrow from a bow.
"Double, and be hanged to you! " shouted John,
as he shied the light shell to one side and swung it
round so as to keep me facing the fish.  "If you
get under this boat it will be because this paddle
breaks."
Failing in his attempt to run under us, he dove
to the bottom.  "Let himn rest a moment," said
Jolhn; "recover your line; you'11 need it all when
he rises.  He's big and ugly, and his next rush
will be like lightning."
After I had stowed away some forty yards of
line upon thle reel, winding it on hard and evenly,
so that it would render well, I began to feel of the
fish.  The first pressure elicited only a shake.  At
the next he described a circle, still keeping to
the bottom, then caine again to a stand-still.  Ile
acted ugly.  I felt that, when the rush came, it
would try nerve and tackle alike.  Enjoining John
to watch the fish and favor mne all he could, and
by no means to let him pass under the boat, I
gave a quick, sharp jerk. My arm was still in
the air and the rod unstraightened, when I caught
a gleam far down below me, and before I had time
to wink the huge fellow parted the water almost 
ROD AND REEL.
within reach of my arm, and when high up in
mid-air he shook himself, the crystal drops were
flung into my very face.  Perhaps I shall live long,
enough to forget the picture, as that trout for
an instant hung in the air, his blue back  and
azure sides spotted with' gold and agate, his
fins edged with snowy white, his eyes protruding,
gills distended, the leader hanging from his jaws,
while a shower of pearly drops were shaken from
his quivering  sides.   He fell; but while  still
in air the boat glided backward, and when he
touched the water I was thirty feet away and ready
for his rush. It came. And as he passed us,
somne forty feet off, he clove the water as a bolt
from a cross-bow might cleave the air. Possibly
for five minutes the frenzy lasted. Not a word
was uttered.  The whiz of the line through the
water, the whir of the flying reel, and an occasional grunt from John as the fish doubled on the
boat, were the only sounds to be heard. When,
suddenly, in one of his wildest flights, the terribly
taxed rod straightened itself out with a spring,
the pressure ceased, the line slackened, and the
fish again lay on the bottom.  Wiping the sweat
from my brow, I turned to John and said, "What
do you think of that?"
"Mr. Murray," replied John, laying the paddle
down and drawing the sleeve of his woollen shirt
across  his forehead, beaded with perspiration,
14
ill,
00 
136     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
")/r. Murray, that fish is ugly; if he should get
the line over his back, he'd smash the rod like a
pipe-stem!"
"He won't get it over his back," replied I.
"Ready with your paddle; lihe's getting too much
breath."
"But I say," said John, looking affectionately
at the rod as lie took up the paddle; "if I was in
your place, and hlie dli(d get the line over his shoulder, I would part my tackle before I smashed that
rod."
"I won't do either, John"; and as I answered I
gave a jerk, and the trout started again.  But why
repeat?  Why tell of flights and rushes which
followed? Twice did he break the surface a hundred feet away, flinging himself out like a black
bass. Once did he partially get the leader over his
back and dashed away like lightning; while John,
anxious to save so true a rod from ruin, shouted
to me, "Part the gut!"  But who ever knew  a
fisherman, when his blood is up, refuse a risk to
save the game? I screamed to John to shoot the
boat one side; and when the last foot of silk was
given I advanced the butt.  The heavy fish and
pliant rod were pitted one  ag,ainst  the othlier.
Three days later, in another struggle, the old rod
parted; but this time it triumphed. For a moment the quivering tip rattled upon the bars of
the reel. The fish struggled and shook himself, 
- 1      I 2
mid-air, he shook himself, the crystal droas were  iung into mzy very face." 
a 
ROD AND REEL.
but the tenacious fibres would not part. He ceased
to battle, came panting to the surfacte, and rolled
over upon his side.  The boat shot toward him,
and as it glided by John passed the landing(-net
b)eneathl him, and the brave fighter lay upon the
bottom board. His tail, across its base, measured
five inches; and his length from tip to tip was
sevrceteen inches anl thiree quarters!
"John," I said, twisting round in my seat and
facing him,   " John, I should have lost that fish
or smashed the rod, if it had not been for youi
paddle."
"Of course, of course," replied John; "that's
my business. Those fly-rods are delicate things.
Like womlen, they should n't be put to heavy work
if you can help it, but they are able to bear a
heavy strain if necessary.  But with all I could
do I thoughlt it was gone once.  I don't think I
ever came so near breaking this paddle as on that
last sweep.  It made my flesh creep to hear the
old rod creak. I really believe my own back
would have snapped if it had parted."
We had captured six trout in two hours, whose
average length was sixteen inches and a half.  I
asked John if wre should take allothler.
"I don't think it will be sin to take one more,"
he responded. "I saw a tail show itself out there,"
- and he nodded over his left shoulder, - " which
looked like a lady's fan. If there is a larger trout
137 
138     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
than that last one lying anywhere about this pond,
I would like to see him"; and as he spoke he
swept his paddle through the water, and the boat
started. I looked at my fly. The teeth of the
trout had torn the hackle half away, and  shorn
off from the body one gaudy wing.  An exclamation front John started me.  The fish had risen
again. I too saw his tail as he disappeared, and it
as as broad as a fan.
"Mr. Murray," exclaimed John, "that fish is the
biggest trout I ever saw."'T is full two feet lon,g.
I saw him fair, broad side on. His mouth was
like a bear-trap.  P,eady for a cast.  Send the fly
straight for the centre of the wake, and if he
takes, strike like thunder!"
John was evidently getting excited, and the
glimpse I had of the trout had thrilled me as
the blast of a bugle might thrill a warrior harnessed for battle. The boat was forty feet away
when the tuft of gay plumes, mangled but still
brilliant, floated downward, and lighted amid the
glistening bubbles.  I had not trailed it a yard
when a gleam of blue and yellow passed me, and
with a splash and plunge which threw the water
in silvery spray high into the air, the trout broke,
I saw the feathers disappear within his imonstrous jaws, and, lifting myself involiuitarily half
off my seat, I struck.  I think  John was convinced that I struck hard enough that time, for
Id 
ROD AND REEL.
the strong nine-foot leader parted under the quick
stroke, and down into the depths went the trout,
with leader and flies streaming from his mouth.
"AWell," said John, as I swulng myself around
so as to face him, "for twenty-seven years I've
boated up and down the waters of this wilderness,
and rarely will you strike a lake or stream, from
the Horican to the St. Lawrence, above whose surface I have not seen fish leap; but never before
this day have I seen, on lake or stream, a spotted
trout as large as that which has just carried fly
and leader to the bottom.  Well, let him go," he
continued; "he'11 manag,e, some way, to get that
hook out of his jaw, and live to take another fly.
And you and I will build our camp-fire some even ing next summer upon the shore of this pond
ag,ain; and when the sun comes over those pines
there, I'11 warrant we'll find the old fellow active
as ever."
So speaking, he turned the boat about, and
headed toward the camp.  That afternoon we lay
on the beach and watched the leaping trout
sporting before us; or gazed, dreaming of absent
friends, into the deep blue sky, across whose cerulean dome the snow-white clouds drifted, urged
silently onward by the pressutre of invisible currents. The sun at last withdrew his beams. One
moment, and the pines that crested the western
slope were all ablaze.   The  next, gloomy  and
I 10 9 
140     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
dark thiey stood, their dense and sombre foliage
unlighted by a ray. The shadows deepened. The
ripple left the lake, and its unruffled surface
stretched from shore to shore like a sea of glass.
One by one the stars came out in quick succession. The waters contended in rivalry with the
skies, and every star which shone in the heaven
above shone in the depths below. Thus we sat
and saw dark-featured but brilliant Night succeed
to the throne of blond and gentle Day. Suddenly,
breaking the profound silence, the solemn hoot of
an owl echoed through the forest. It was answered in a moment by the prolonged howl of a
wolf, hunting  amid  the hills far to the north.
Throwing some huge logs on the fire, and wrapping, our blankets around us, we stretched ourselves beside the blaze, and, with malice in our
hearts toward none, sank peacefully to our night's
,epose. 
VIII.
PHANTOM FALLS.
J  OHN," I exclaimed, as I stood emptying the
water out of my boots,    "John, I will surely
write an account of this nig,ht's adventure."
"No one will believe you if you do," replied he.
"If it was not for this water," he continued, as he
gave his soaked jacket a wring with both hands, "I
should doubt it myself, and declare that we have
only been dreaming, and had not shot two miles of
those rapids to-night, nor dra,gged our boat from
under the suction of Phantom Falls."
"I do not care whether people believe it or not,"
I replied. "There lies your broken paddle,"- and I
pointed to the piece of shivered ash,-  "and there
you stand, wringing the water of the rapids from
your jacket, and we know that something more
than human has now for two nights appeared off
our camp, and that we did, two hours ago, take
boat and follow it until it vanished into mist; and
I shall tell the story of what we have seen and
done, not expecting any one will believe it."
Gentle reader, I keep the promise made to John,
as we stood by our camp-fire under the pines, and 
142     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
advise you to believe no more of it than you see
fit. Perhaps the reading will serve to entertain a
circle of friends some winter evening, when  the
wind moans dismally withliout, as the writino will
rest him  who, in front of a glowing grate, on a
December  night, for his own  ainusemnent even
more than for your own, tells you the story of
PHIIANTOM FALLS.
"John,"  said I, "since eight o'clock wve have
made good forty miles, and my fingers are so stiff
that I can scarcely unclasp them from this paddlestaff.  Let  us makle camrp before  the sun  goes
down."
"Well," replied he, "fifteen years ago I caimped
one night by that big rock there at the mouth of
the rapids, and I would like to see how the old
camp looks, for I saw somethilng there that night
that I could not account for; I will tell you about
it after supper to-nigTht."
Of course I assented, and bent myself to the
paddle with renewed energy.
We were in the heart of the wilderness, whiere
even trappers seldom penetrated.  For fifty miles
on either side not even the smoke of a hunter's
cabin colored the air. For weeks I had not seen a
humnan face or heard a human voice other than our 
PHANTOM FALLS.
own.  Day after day we had been  pushing our
light, narrow shell up unexplored creeks, building
our fire each night on the shore of some lake or
pond where it is doubtful if fire was ever kindled
before.  As we proceeded down the lake, the roar
of the rapids caine more and more distinctly to our
ears, and as the shores converged the boat began
to feel the action of the water beneath it, where
were the beg,inning,s of the current.  As Jolin felt
the movemnent, he lifted his oars, and, laying theml
carefully along the bottom of the boat, pointed
toward a huge pine that stood to the west of
a projection of land along the other side of which
rushed the rapids.  Understanding the motion, I
turned the bow of the boat toward the tree, and
then, with easy stroke, urged it along.
"How well I remiember the night I camped
here," said John, speaking half to himself:  "How
naturally that old pine looks, and the thiree hemlocks on the point, and the rock against which I
built my fire.  I wonder if the old story is true,
and if I did see her, or whether it was only a
dream!"
By  this time the boat had run into a little
notch or bay, and a few shiarp strokes sent it to
the shore with a foree that urged it half its length
up over the yielding  sanl    We stepped to the
beach.
Supper having been prepared  and eaten, we
143 
144     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
threw some heavy logs upon the fire, and, reclining
upon our blankets, gazed off over the lake. The
moon was nearly at the fill.  Her rounded orb
was just appearing above the eastern mountains,
and across the tranquil water she poured her pure
white radiance. The lake lay motionless; not a
wave, not even a ripple, broke the smooth surface.
Ablove, the  sky was  cloudless.   Suspended  in
the still ether, a few of the larger stars struggled for existence.   Weak and vain such rivalry!
for the queen of night held open audience, and
their lesser lights paled in her more brilliant presence. The woods were dumb. Silence brooded
in the heavy pines and amid the darker firs.
The balsamns, through their spear-like stems, yielded their fragrance upon an air too motionless to
waft it.  Even the dull roar of the rapids was so
even in tone, that, instead of disturbing, it seemed
rather to deepen the all-pervadilng silence.
"Mr. Murray," said John, at length, "do you
kinow that we are camiped on haunted ground?"
"Haunted ground!" I returned, raising myself
upon miy elbow, and turning toward himr.  "Wliat
do you mean? You don't believe in ghosts, do
you?"
"Well, I don't know," replied John, " what to
believe; but some of the old trappers tell queer
stories about this place, and I know that, just
fifteen years ago this month, I made miy canmp
.1 
PHANTOM FALLS.
under this very pine, and that during the night
I saw something off the camp which was  n't
humanl!"
"So that was what you were muttering about,
was it, John, when we were running in?" I re sponded. "Give us the story, as you promised; this
is the very night and place to hear a ghost-story.
I can almost catch the soft, cat-like tread of old
Indian warriors gliding, through the shadows, and
the dip of unseen paddles along the motionless
water.  So go ahead, John; give us the whole
story, and take your own time for it."
"Well, it won't take long," replied John; "and I
would like to know what you think of it, anyway.
The story which the old trappers tell is this:   "' The tribe of Indians that once hunted around
the shores of this lake, and over these mountains,
was called the Neaminski. It was a branch of
the great Huron family, and their chief was
Neosko, which means thunder-cloud, or some such
thling,. Well, this chief had a daughter, WVisti by
name. The French called her the Balsam, because
of the richness of her dark beauty. This girl fell
in love with a young Frenchman, a Jesuit priest,
whom the missions in Canada had sent down to
this tribe to convert them. Her love, it seems,
was returned with ardor, and here in this little
cove they were wont to hold their nig,htly tryst.
At last the young priest, impelled by his passioI
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145
7
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146     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
for the girl, determined to visit Montreal, get discharged by his superiors from the service, return
for his mistress, and, striking through the lakes
eastward, reach Albany, where he could embark for
France.  He left in the early spring, with the understanding that he would meet her at this spot on
a certain night in June. For some reason, perhaps because he could not get a release, perhaps
piety prevailed at last over love, or, miore probable
still, because he was  ambushed on his journey
by hostile Indians and killed, he never returned.
Night after night, as the story runs, A,Visti would
take her canoe, paddle to this point, where, not
finding her lover, she would return dejected to her
father's camp.   She had many lovers, of course.
Chiefs from near and far, even from the big lakes,
came seeking her hand.  She refused each and all.
In vain her father threatened, her relations urge(ld,
her tribe insisted.  To every suitor she returned
the same answer:  "My heart is far away in the
North, and will not come back to me." A year
came and went.  The snow for a second time melt ed from the mountains, and the ice deserted the
streams. Her lover had been sick, she said to her self, and could not keep his promise; but now he
would surely come.  Thus she kept her hope up
as she watched and waited.  Night after night sli(,
would visit this spot, only to be disappointed.  The
burden was too heavy for her to bear. Tile light 
PHANTOM FALLS.
deserted her eyes and agility her limbs.  With the
leaves of autumn she faded, and one September
night she launched her canoe and left her father's
camp.   When  last seen, she was  directing her
course toward this point. It is possible that,
caught in the sweep of the rapids, she was swept
down, or else, broken in spirit by the continued absence of her lover, and weary of a life, every day of
which brought only a new and bitterer disappointment, she purposely paddled out into the current,
and sought, through the white foam and mist of
the rapids, a meeting with him who was, as she
believed, no longer on earth.' And they say," continued John, "that thrice each year, about this
time in June;, there comes up out of the rapids a
canoe, which leaves, as it glides, no wake, urged by
a noiseless paddle, and in it a figure sits, clothed in
raimnent whiter than the mist."
"Well, John," I said, after a slight pause, "is
that all?  Do you believe the story? Did you evei
see her?"
"Mr. Murray," said John, solemnly, "I do believe the story; and I have seen her."
" Vhat!" I exclaimed, now thoroughly interested; "do you say that you have seen her, John?
When, and how? Tell me all about it."
"It was just fifteen years ago this moon," continued he, "and I was returning from a, trip down
the Black RPiver country, whlen, late in the eveninig,
147
I 
148    ADVE'QTURES IN THE WILDERNESS,
I ran my boat into this little bay. The moon, the
lake, the moantains, all looked  as they do  at
this maoment.  Against this very rock I built my
fire, and, being tired, quickly dropped to sleep. I
lay that night in the samne position in which you
are now lying.  HIlow long I had been sleeping I
dlo not know, when a low, uneasy whine from imy
wound, and his nose  rubbing against my  face,
iroused mae.   Thinking  that some wild  animal
fad approached the camnp, I seized my rifle ant
peered  steadily into  the  forest.   Not  a twin
snapped. Twice did the dog walk around the
fire, lift his nose into the air, and whine.   I did not
know what to m'ake of it.  I was about to order
him to be quiet, when he started to his feet, took a
step toward the lake, and then crouched, shlivering,
to the ground.  Qnick as thought I turned, and
there, Mr. Murray," said John, speaking in a low
but steady voice, and pointing with his braw\ny
hand toward the east, "there, just rounding that
point, I saw a sight which made my blood curdle.
A boat, or what seemed to be a boat, was there, -
% birch canoe, curved up at either end,- and in it
sat a girl, or what seemed a girl, all clothed in
whlite, and airy as a cloud. Ini her hand she grasped
a paddle, and her head was turned as in the attitude of listening. Up to the very margin of the
water the canoe camne, and twice did that face, or
wliat seemed a face, look steadily into mine.  Thlen
tm 
PHANTOM FALLS.
with a motion as when one shakes his head with
disappointment, it turned away, and the canoe,
as if impelled by a paddle, described a circle, and
glided, with the white form in it, around the
point."
John paused. That his narrative was honest I
nad no doubt. Every tone and syllable proved it.
I did not know precisely what to say, so we sat for
a while in profound silence. At last John started
up, seized hold of the end of a large log which the
fire had burned through in the middle, ended it
over upon the pile of glowing coals, and as he
seated himself said,  "Well, Mr. Murray, what do you think of it?"
PRising to my feet, I turned about so as to face
him, and responded:  "John, I do not doubt that you think you saw
what you say you did see; but I do not believe that
you really saw any such sight after all.  The fact is,
Johln, it was what the doctors would call a mental
delusion. You were very tired; you had heard
the old story about the place - Be still, PRover,
will you!" I exclaimed, interrupting myself  to
touch the old dog with my foot, as he rose to his
feet, lifted his nose into the air, and began to
whimper, - " it is nothing but a wolf or a wildcat,
you old fool you; lie down.-  The fact is, John,'
I resumed, "you were very tired that night; you
had often heard the story about the place; you
149
m
:1 
150 ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
were here all alone, and dropped asleep thinking
of it, and, being in a feverish state, you dreamed
that you saw"
"Mr. Murray,"  whispered  John,  hoarsely,
interrupting me, "for God's sake, look there! "
There was something in his voice, and in the
quick motion of his hand as he thrust it out
toward the lake, which startled me. Scarcely
knowing why or what I was doing, I turned and
saw what was enough to quicken the blood in
cooler veins than mine.  Within a hundred feet
of the beach on which I was then standing was
what seemed at least to be a canoe, and in it a
form sat, bent slightly forward as in the act of
listening. A moment it sat thus, and then the
attitude became erect, and a face, as it were the
face of a girl imprinted on the air, looked directly
into mine. I neither spoke nor moved, but stood
steadfastly gazing at the apparition. I was not
frightened to bewilderment.  All my faculties
seemed supernaturally active.  I noted the form
of the canoe. It was as John had described it,curved up at either end, and delicately shaped. I
noticed the paddle, slender and polished, the white
drapery, the shadowy face. I remembered afterward that the moonlight fell athwart the prow, as
it projected from the dark shadows of the pines
into the unimpeded radiance. It may have been a
minute that the apparition faced us; then, with a 
PHANTOM FALLS.
niovemnent of the hlead as when one seeks in vaiu
for somethiing not to be found, the paddle sank
into the water and the phantom boat, urged as by
a steady stroke which stirred no ripple, glided, with
the white figure in it, along the shore and aroLund
the point, and then, heading toward the rapids,
vanished from sight.
It niumst have been several minutes before either
of us spoke.  Then John broke the silence with
the words, " ATell, Mr. AlMurray, what do you think
about it now?"
"I think," said I, "that iinmagination has played
a trick on me, or else the old story is true and this
is haLunted ground."
"Did you notice the canoe," continued John,
"how it was curved and ornamented at either end;
and the paddle, what a delicate shaft it had; and
the face, was it not as the face of a girl?"
"Yes," I returned, solemnly, "it was as you dlescribe it, John, save that it did not seem like a
real boat or paddle, and the face looked like the
ouLtline of a face printed on the air, rather than a
solid head."
"So it did, so it did," responded he; "but does
not the good Book say somewhere that we shall all
be changed at death, and that our bodies will not
look as they-do now?"
"Well, John, we won't talk any more about it
to-ni'lt," I replied; "I want to sleep on it.  Toss
151 
152     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
me my blanket there, and roll those two logs onil to
the fire, and we will go to sleep.  In the morning we will hold a council, and decide what to
do.  If there is any truth in the old story, you and
I might as well find it out."
John  did as he was  requested,  and, coming,
round to where I stood, we wrapped ourselves in
our blankets, and side by side, with PRover at our
feet, prepared ourselves for slumber. "What's
that?" I exclaimed, as a sharp, quick cry, followed by a prolonged howl, came up from the
depth of the forest.
"A wolf has killed a deer," murniured John,
"and he is calling in the pack "; and then we slept.
The sun was high in the heavens before we
awoke. Our sleep had been a heavy, oblivious
slumber, which took as it were so many hours
clean out of our lives,- a gap across which was
stretched not even the filament of a dream by
which the memory could afterward  connect the
lying down and the rising up.
"John," said I, when breakfast was ended, "I
tell you what we will do to-day. We will explore
the rapids and markl us out a course down as far
as Phantom Falls, and we will lay in wait off our
camp to-night, when, if the apparition makes us
another visit, we will run alongside of that canoe or
shadow, whichever it may be, and solve the mystery. AN'hat say you? " 
PHANTOM FALLS.
"I say anything you say, Mr. Murray," promptly responded John.  "I never yet saw a canoe 1
was afraid to run my boat alongside of; but what
shall we do if it goes from us? Shall we give
chase?"
"Certainly," I responded; "and I don't believe
that anything short of a ghost can out-paddle us,
if we fairly settle ourselves down to it."
"Nor I either," returned Johln, laughing; "but
what if it leads down the rapids? I heard an old
trapper say that he followed it once to the very entrance of them, down which it glided and escaped
him."
"Well, as I said, John, we will explore the
rapids to-day, and map us out a course.  The river
is high, and with the full moon we can easily run
them.  It is a good mile, you say, before we reach
the falls, and it must be ghost or devil if, with a
good paddle at either end of this shell, you and I
cannot catch it in a mile race."
So it was arranged, and, taking up our paddles,
we  stepped into our boat  and started for the
rapids. In a moment we had turned the point and
shot out into the current, in which, with reversed
strokes of the paddles, we held the light shell
stationary while we scanned the reach of trenmulous water below. No prettier sight can a man
gaze at, nor is there one more calculated to quicken
the blood, than to see two men sit bareheaded and
7*
153 
154     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS
erect at either end of their cedar boat, paddle in
hand, in the smooth water which gathlers like a
pool at the mouth of rapids. And many a wihll,
ringing cheer have I heard rise, mning,ling with the
roar of waters, from those who glided in their
skeleton boats over the verge, and passed from the
gazer's sight amid the foam and rocks below.
"John," said I, as we  sat looking downward,
"it's all clear ahead; let her glide."
"All  right," replied  John;  "the waters  are
high, and we shall have a clean run of it. The
small rocks are covered, and the boulders we can
dodge.  We will aim for the centre, and let the
current take us. I guess we shall ride fast enough.
Only one thing before we start.  We shall find
several small falls, which  we must jump;  but
when you hear the roar and see the smioke of
Phantom Falls, look well to your paddle and minud
what you are about.  It won't do to go over them.
Twenity-five feet are more than I care to jump."
"Exactly  mny  sentiment,"  returned  I, " but
which side are we to land? If you and I slioot
this boat out of such a current as that," and I motioned downward, "it must be with a stroke quick
as lightning and well together."
"I know  that," said John.  "I explored  the
banks above the falls, one day, not knowing but
that I might be swept down some time, and about
thirty rods up stream, right abreast of a dead hem 
PHANTOM FALLS.
lock, there is a large whirlpool. We will strike it
to the right, and when exactly abreast of the tree
we must jump our boat with one stroke under cover
of the bank.  Do you understand?"
"Perfectly," replied I.
" Ready, then," said John.  "Steady as you are.
No,w!/"
At the word "Now!" we lifted our paddles and
glanced like an arrow down the slope.
Three times that day we ran the rapids, and
each time without a mishap.  Indeed, it was not a
difficult matter, as the water was very high; and as
soon as we got accustomed to the extreme swiftness of the motion, we found no difficulty at
all in handling our boat. The most trying spot
was where we had to run out of the current, to do
which it was necessary that the stroke of our pa(l dles should be as one, and made with our united
strength.
"There," said John, as for the third time we ran
under the banik, "I am not afraid to run these
rapids night or day, even if chased by a ghost.
Come, let us go and see the falls."
Forcing, our way through the underbrush, we
clambered down the bank, and, walking out upon
the shelving rock, stood where the mist and spray
fell on us. The falls were some twenty-five feet
high, perpendicular as the face of a wall. The edge
of the rock over which the water rushed must have
155 
156     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
been notched or chipped; for, starting from the very
rim of the cataract, spouts of water leaped into the
air, and, falling in feathery spray, formed a veil
through which the dark green torrent might be
seen as it fell behind it. In one spot only did the
current flow unimnpeded. Near the middle of the
stream, for some eight feet in width, the downrushing, waters rolled to the brink and curved
over without jet or seam, smooth as a sheet of
glass. Underneath, the water was churned into
foam, boiling and tossing about in the wildest
confusion.
For several minutes we stood admiring the wild
scene in silence.  "Mr. Murray," at length shouted
John, putting his mouth close to my ear, so as to
make himself heard amid the uproar, "if any poor
fellow should ever get caught in the rapids alone,
and have to shoot the falls, he should steer for that
smooth water, and, when on the very brink, put his
whole strength into one stroke of his paddle;
and if he could project his boat so that, when it
struck, it would fall on the outside of that upheaving ridge, he would be safe, but if he fell inside of
that white line of foam, he would be sucked under
the falls and torn to pieces on the jagged bottom."
"John," said I, "it could be done, I verily believe, as you say, but not one man in fifty could
hold his paddle or sit his boat steadily, gliding
t 
PHANTOM FALLS.
downward to such a fearful leap; but will and
nerve could do it, only Heaven keep us from tryino it."
"Amen," said John, "and yet there is no telling
what may happen to those who boat by day and
night up and down this wilderness as much as we
do; and if you ever have to do it, Mr. Murray, steer
for that smooth water, and, as yoti love your life,
when on the brink, do as I have told you."
"Well," said I, changing the subject, "if that
poor Indian girl did really come down the rapids,
shle must have met her death under these falls."
"Yes, that is why they call them Phantom
Falls," answered John.  "An old trapper told me
once that he camped in the bend of the river there
one night, and as he was rebuilding his fire about
midnight, he saw a canoe and a white form rise
slowly out of the mist and go sailing up the rapids.
He was so frightened that he took boat and paddled all night down stream till he reached the settlenient."
"Well," said I, as we turned from the falls and
clamibered up the bank, "to-night we will see if
the old story is true or not. Let us go to camp."
So saying we shouldered our boat and started for
the camp above.
It might have been eleven o'clock when, taking
-ip our paddles, we stepped into our boat and
pushed off into the lake. We took our position in
157 
158     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
thle shadow of a henmlock which grew on the very
margin of the bank, some fifty yards to the west
of the camp, and waited.  I cannot say that I expected anything unusual would show itself.  I am
no believer in Spiritualism.  I am not nervous by
nature. I never dream. It was these facts which
made it so hard for me to account for the appearance of the night before. The more I had reflected
the more had I been puzzled.
"John," said I, at length, speaking in a guarded
whisper, "this is the queerest ambush you and I
ever made."
"I was just thinking of that very same thing,"
responded he; "but I am very glad we are here.
For fifteen years I have wanted to do this very
thing, but never found any one to attempt it with
me.  How do you feel?"
" Never better in my life," I replied; "although I
must say that I hope we may not run the rapids.
Moonlight is not sunlight, after all; and if you
should make a mistake, or-"
"Mr. Murray," broke in John, "did you ever
know me make a mistake? Have not you and I
run rapids worse than these, time and again? and
when have we taken anything but foam and spray
into our boats? I tell -you I am not afraid to run
the rapids; only if we do go down, remember the
dead hemlock.  It would n't do to go over the
falls." 
PHANTOM FALLS.
" Never fear on that point, John; when I am
ready to die, I shall choose another grave than
that boiling hell of water to sleep in. When I
feel the tap of your paddle-staff on the boat, I
will do my part; never fear."
Here the conversation ceased, and we sat in
silence,-  a silence so profound as to be almost
painful. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed, and
nothing appeared.  I grew impatient, incredulous.
I even began to feel that I would not like nmy
friends to know what a fool I was making of
myself.  "John," said I at length, taking out my
watch, and holding its face up to a bright beam
of light which had found its way through the
dark foliage overhead,-" John, it is five minutes to twelve, and we have made fools of ourselves long enough.   I don't think  the Indian
girl will make her toilet under the falls to-night,
even if we should sit cramped up here till
morning.  Come, shove into the -"
A low moan, almost human in its piteousness,
arose on the midnight air.  Again the hound, by a
supernatural instinct, had divined the approach of
the spirit. I looked toward the camp. The dog
sat on his haunches, facing the lake, his nose lifted
into the air.  Outlined as he was against the fire,
I could see the uneasy tremulousness of his body.
He opened his mouth, and up through the stillness
swelled the saddest of all sounds,-  the prolonged
159 
160     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
cry of a hound, when, in unknown grief, he wails out
his feeling. At the same instant I felt the boat
shake. Never did I obey that signal to be on the
watch more quickly. Never was I signalled before
to look at such an object.  A canoe, and in it a figure like a girl's, was in the very act of turning
the point.  A  living girl could not have kept a
steadier stroke, or urged a boat along more naturally. And yet I felt that it was not fleshi and
blood, nor a real boat, nor ashen paddle before mne.
Onward the apparition camine. Up to the very
border of our camp that spectral boat glided, then
paused.  A hulman face could not have gazed more
searchingly into the fitful firelight; a humian form
could not have taken a truer attitude of search.  I
saw a shadowy arnm mnove through the air, and
the formation of a hand rested for a lmomnent oln
the brow,- as when one shields his eyes, peering
into darkness,   then sank upon the paddle-staff'.
and the boat moved forward.
That motion roused Inie.  It started John also
An instant more and we had solved the mystery
But even as our boat glided out of the deep shadow,
the apparition turned her ihead full on us. I won
der we did not stop.  But, with that ghostly face
not fifty feet away, looking through the bright
moonlight steadily into mine, I gave a stroke which
bent my paddle like a sword-blade when you throw
your weight suddenly upon it. The deed was done.
.1 
"  , 1. I I 
jj'N\                              I3
3
II 1
I I
\\           \                                                                                 Ii                  I
I:
I
I 
PHANTOM FALLS.
Devil or saint, spirit or flesh, we had her! I thrust
my haud out to grasp the garments of the girl.  I
clutche(l the cmlt)y caib; the girl was gone full
twenty yards away, and( speeding toward the poinit.
Not thuis were we to bIe eluded.  John hald niot
missed his stroke, and, seizing mily paddle again, we
sent ouLr boat flyilng, over the surface of the lake in
hot pursuit. Never, as I believe, was boat of I)ark
or cedar sent faster over the water. Our paddles
were of choicest ashl, smooth as ivory, three feet in
the staff and thirty inches in the blade, while the
shell that floated us turned barely sixty pounds, with
a bottom like polished steel, and so cork-like that,
balanced carefully at stem and stern, as it was now,
it seemed to rest upon, rather than part, the water
on whichi it sat; and as we cast our utmost strength
into our paddles as only boatmen can, the lithe thing
fairly flew, whlile its delicate framework of cedar
roots and paper-like sides quivered unider the nervous strokes from stem to stern. Around the point
we rushed, pursuer and pursued.  Into the swift
suction we shot almost side by side; down over the
verge and through the white rift into the gloom of
overhanging pines, leaped a cascade, and with hands
and faces wet with spray, and garments flecked
with patches of froth and foam cast high over us as
we splashed through the rapid torrent, plunged
down the second reach and over a second fall
without losing a stroke.  Still, just ahead, the boat
1
16t
Io 
162    ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
and spectre glided.  At one meoiment entering into
the shadow of some dark pine or hemlock which
overhunig the stream, her whiite form with the whiter
face looking back at us would show anl outline as
clearly marked as though of flesh and blood; the
next, as it passed out of the gloom, it would melt
way into the moonlight, until it seemed only as anii
airy formation, miaking no obstruction to the eye,
a thing of mist and air. Once, as we leaped a fall, I
thought our race was over; for even as we hung in
air, I reachled to seize the phantom.  I closed nimy
hand, but grasped the atmnosp7ecre.  I felt it was in
vain.  No mortal hand nmight ever touch it, or if it
might, the hiuman senses were too gross to feel the
contact.  At that moment the white figure arose,
and, standing erect, pointed with one hand downward, and with the open palm of the other waved
us as in warning back.  The moon shone full upon
hier face. The look was sad, almost plaintive. An
indescribable expression of patience possessed it.
"Living or dead, form or spirit, the years have
brought no hope to you, poor girl!" said I to
myself.  In a moment her posture chang,ed. Her
hands dropped to her side. Her head was bent, as
though in the attitude of listening, down the stream.
Then, suddenly starting, she stood erect, and, flinging her arnis over hier head with a gesture which
had in it both warning and supplication, she waved
us back.  That instant I heard the roar of Phantom 
PHANTO.1 FALLS.
Falls. I tapped the side of the boat with my paddle-staff.  In a momeneit I felt an answering jar
from John, and knew that he had caught the heavy
boom which warned us to end the race.  Down,
down we went, past rock and bulgingl, ledge, swept
round a curve, and lo! the hemnlock was in sight.
Iti,ght glad wvas I to see it.  It looked like a fiiend
standing there, leaning out, as it was, over the
swiftly gliding water, which hissed and quivered
under it.   I saw the eddying pool which spun
abreast of it, and marked the white line of foam
fringing the black circle, and noted with joy how
surely John was sending the boat to the identical
spot from which, with one brave stroke, we were to
jump her out of the fierce suction under the projecting banks.  I had uo thought of accident.  The
faintest suspicion of failure had not crossed my
mind.  With the thunder of the falls fillilng, the air
with a deafening roar, barely thirty rods away,
with the siz-z of the current around me as we
dashed down the decline, I felt as calm and confident as though the race was over and we were
stadillng on the bank.  Nearer and nearer to the
line of froth we flew; straight as an arrow from the
bowv the light boat shot.  I grasped my paddle,
reaching my left hand well down to the blade,
holding, it suspended and stretchled far out ahead,
ready for the stroke.   The  momnent  came.   I
dashed the paddle into the current ald I)enlt upon
163 
164     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
the staff.  Even as I bent to the stroke, the sound
of rending wood,  a crash, a quick cry, piercilng,
sharply through the roar of the falls, smote upon my
ear.  No words were needed to tell me what hlad
happened.   Johln had broken his p1(addle!  The
treacherous ash had failed him even in mid-stroke.
I did my best.  I felt that life, sweet to all at all
times, doubly sweet as it seemed to ine then, lay in
the strength of my arms.  I threw the last ounce
of power I had into that stroke.   The elastic staff
bent under the sudden pressure like a Damascus
blade.  It held; but all in vain.  The suction was
too strong.  It seized  Jolhn's  end of the  b)oat,
whirled it round, and sent it flying out into the
middle of the stream.  It is said that men grow
cool in danger; that the mind acts with supernatural quickness in moments of peril.  Be that as it
may with others, so it was with ine in that fearful
momeiit.  I knewv that wte must go over the jitlls.  I
felt that Johln inust make the awful shoot.  I had
inore confidenl,e in him than in myself.   As the
boat spun round upon the eddy, I seized advantage of the current, and righting it, directed the bow
down stream.  Thlen, calmly turning in my seat,
reversed miy paddle, and, holdiing it by the blade,
reached the staff to John. lIe took it. Never
shall I forget the look of John's face as his fingers
closed on it.  No word was uttered by either of us.
No voice might make itself heard in that uproar. 
PHANTOM FALLS.
The moon made everything almost as discernible
as in the day.  He took the paddle, understanding
my  thought, looking straight at me.  Upon his
face was an expression, plain as speech might make
it, which said, "All that man can do, Mr Murray,
all that mian can do."  Then he passed the blade
into the water. I saw him take two strokes, steady
and quick, then turned.  Down, down  we went.
0, how we shot along that tremulous plain of quivering water! I felt the shell tremble and spring
as John drove it ahead.  A joy I cannot express
thrilled me as I felt the boat jump.   Hope rose
with every nervous stroke of that pad(ldle, as it sent
ls flying  toward the verge.  No matter how we
struck, provided our projection carried us beyond
the deadly line of bubbles and the section inward.
I held my breath, seizing the rimin of the boat on
each side with either hand, and crouched low down
for the leap.  The motion was frightful.  Mly face
seemed to contract and sharpen under the pressure
of the air as I clove through it.  How John could
keep his stroke, rushing down such a decline, was
and will ever be to me a matter of incereasingr wonder.  Yet, quick and smiting as his stroke was, it
was as regular as the movement of a watch. DI)own,
down we glanced, straight for the middle of the
falls and the smooth opening along the jagged rim.
Lower and lower I crouched. Quicker and quicker
jumped the boat, until the verge was reacded, anid,
165 
166     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
quivering like a frightened fish, the shell, driven by
what seemed to be more than mortal strength, with
a mighty leap, sprang out into the air. So nicely
had long custom taught us to balance it, that, keeping the inclination given it by the current, it clove
through the cloud of rising mist, passing clean out
of it before we touched the water; for even as wc
hung above the abyss, I saw the deadly line was
passed and we were saved.  The boat, keeping the
angle of declination, struck the water, and went
under like a pointed stake hurled from the hand,
and John and I were left struggling in the current.
We swam to the edge of the deep pool, and,
climbing upon the sloping ledge, lay for a brief
time motionless, and, side by side in the deep
shadow of the pines, our faces prone on our crossed
arms, filled with the sweet sense of life delivered,
and with emotions  known  only to Him with
whom, with the roar of the falls, out of whose hell
of waters we had been snatched, rising around us,
we held communion.
At the lower end of the pool we found our boat
drifted ashore and John's broken paddle beside it.
Shouldering the shell, and striking eastward, we
soon camne to the carry, traversing which we quickly
reached the lake, and launching out upon it, in five
minutes stood where the opening sentences of our
story' found us wringing our clothes beside our
rekindled camp-fire.  And there, reader, we will 
PHANTOM FALLS.
leave you standing in fancy b)y the flickering fireli,ght, with Rover at your feet and the lake shimmering, like a sea of silver under the white radiance of the full-orbed and perfect moon, lying
tranquilly before you.
"Just one word, Mr. Murray, before you stop.
Did you recally see a ghost, and is there any such
place as Phantom Falls?"  To which query of
yours, gentle reader, pausing only one moment to
answer, before I quarter this Christmas orange, I
respond, " Ask JoIn."
167 
IX.
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
E were camping on Constable Point, John
and I, in thle summer of 1868, when  the
following experience befell me.   I tell it because
it represents one phase of Adirondack life, and because it will enable me to enjoy over again one
of the most ludicrous and laughable adventures
whdiich ever assisted digestion.
It was the 8th of July, and a party of Saranac
guidcles, consisting of Jim McClellan, Stephen  Martin, and a nephew of his, also a Canadian, name
unknown, at least unpronounceable by me, had
come up from the Lower Saranac, and were goilig
through to Prown's Tract for a party of German
gentlemen (and gentlemen in the best sense of the
word we afterward found them to b)e), who had arranged the year before to camp on the RPacquLette for
a wliile.  The guides were instructed to select and
build a camp as they camine through, and tlhen,
leaving one of their number to keep it, to come
after the party, who were to await them at Arnold's. The spot the guides selected was only some
twenity rods to the north of us, and there they 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
pitcled their tent, close by the little projection of
yellow sand which thrusts itself out into the deep
blue waters of the lake.  The following morning
all the guides save the elder Martin started for
Arnold's, leaving him to keep camp. Soon after
dark Martin, having put everything in order to
receive the party, dropped over to our lodge, in
the door of which John and I were sitting, smoking our pipes, and chatting of this or that, as men
will in the woods.
"Well," said I to Martin, as he came up, "I
suppose you have all your arrangements made for
the party to-morrow."
"Yes," returned he.  "I don't know as I can do
much more; only I (do wish I could have a big
buck hang,ing by his gambrels when they come
pulling in.  It would please Mr. Schack mighty
wvell, I tell you.  The fact is," he continued, " I
came over here to see if you did n't want to go
out to-night with your jack.  We  mighlt take a
short stretch up Marion Ri.ver there, and I think
find a venison without much trouble." Of course
I was ready to go.  Indeed, I was exceedingly
glad of the chaince.  The fact is, one deer a week
was all John andc I could manage to dispose of;
and as I never permit myself to shoot more than
the camp can eat or give away, and as no parties
had as yet come in, I had very little sport, and
eagerly hailed the opportunity which  Martin's
8
169 
170     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
proposition gave me  of "drawing it fine" on a
deer's head once more.
So it was settled that we should go jack-shooting up Marion River; and, after a few minutes of
further conversation as to our outfit, Martin left
to prepare his boat. I proceeded to discharge my
rifle, which was loaded with conical balls, in order
to recharge with round ones, which are far better
for short range and night work.
Perhaps, as a matter of interest to sportsmen,
and for the information of the uninitiated reader,
I should pause a moment in my narration to
describe, not only "jack-shooting," but also "my
jack."
Be it known to all, then, that a deer is a very
inquisitive as well as a timid animal. His curiosity is generally greater than his timidity, and at
the sight of anything new  or strange he is impelled by this feeling to inspect it.  Hence it is
that, instead of flying from a blazing torch or
lighted candle at night, he is more apt to stand
stock still and gaze at it. Hunters avail themselves of this peculiarity, and hunt them by torchlight in the nighlt-time.   Ordinarily  speaking,
they take a piece of bark some two feet long by
ten inches wide, and, bending it into the shape of
a half-moon, tack it to a top and bottom board of
the same shape. Into this box of bark, shaped
like an old-fashioned half-moon lantern, they in 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
sert one or more candles, and fasten it to a stick
some three feet in length.  The stick is then stuck
into the bow of the boat, and the " jack" is ready.
The hunter, rifle in hand, seats himself close behind and under the jack, and the paddler at the
other end of the boat or canoe. Thus equipped
they start out. The guide paddles quietly along,
until a deer is heard feeding, as is their custom
at night, upon the edge of the bank, or walking
in the water nipping off the lily-pads, which they
love exceedingly.  The jack is then lighted and
the boat run swiftly down toward the deer. If
hle is young, or has never seen a jack before, he
will let the boat (which he does not see, so intently
is he gazing at the light) come very near him,
and he is easily shot.  If he is old and shy, it is a
far more difficult task to get near him.  The defects of this jack are evident.  It is worthless on any
but a perfectly still night, for the least current of
air will blow  the light out.  It necessitates also
the scratchling of a mlatch previous to "lighting
up," and the noise  incident  to  such  an  operation in the open air at night, when every object
about you is damp and wet, and in the presence
of game, does not tend, to steady the nerves of
an amateur.   It is also stationary, and  if you
run past the deer, as you are liable to do, it is
difficult to turn the light on him. If, furthermore, the deer is in motion in any but a straight
171 
172     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
line from you, the jack is of no service at all.
Now, when deer are scarce and shy, or the nights
windy, such  a jack is almost useless, and the
sportsman is often driven to change his camp or
starve, although deer are all around him. Having in seasons previous experienced the disadvantages of the old jack, I determined to invent and construct one which should  absolutely
overcome all these imperfections. This is what
I hit upon.  I took a common fireman's hat, and,
having the rim removed, had the crown padded
with wvadding, and lined with  chamois-skin.  I
caused a half-moon lantern of copper to be made
with a concave bottom which fitted closely to the
hat, and was fastened thereto with screws. Through
the top of the hat a hole was made large enough
for the burner to pass; the lamp itself, containing
the oil, was fitted and held by brass studs to the
crown, between it and the head.  In the back side
of the lantern was placed a German-silver reflector, heavily plated.  The screw which lifts and
lowers  the wick was  connected with  a shank
that projected through the side of the lantern,
so that by a touch of the finger the light might
be let on or cut off.  A large, softly padded throatlatch buckled the jack firmly to my head.  Observe the advantages of this jack over the old
style.  Being enclosed by an air-tigTht glass front,
it might be used in a tornado. When floating for 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
deer you could turn  the wick so low down that
no light was visible, and when one was heard you
could run down toward hinm, and, with your finger
on the adjusting screw, turn on the light just when
you wanted it, anid not an instant before, and this
too without a moment's pause.  If the deer was
on the jump, it made no difference.  The reflector
was so powerful, that, if you turned the wick well
up, it mad, a lane some three rods wide and fifteen
rods long as light as day, and the jack being on your
head, the blaze was never off the leaping deer,
whose motion your eye would naturally follow,
and as your head turned, so, without thought or
effort on your part, turned the jack.  Moreover, as
all hunters know, one trouble with the old style
of jacks is, that as you hold your rifle untder it,
when taking aim, only the front sight is lighted
up; and the rear siTght being, in the dark, you cannot "draw it fine," but are ever liable to "shoot
over." Shooting with the old style is but little better than guess shooting, any way.  To be sure, you
might discard the rifle, and with an old blunderbuss, charged with slugs or buck-shot, which scatter twenty feet in going forty, get your deer. But
this is simply slaughter,-  a proceeding too shameful for a sportsman ever to engage in.  A  man
who drops his deer with anything but a single
bullet should be hooted out of the woods.  Now
the jack I am describing, when placed firmly on
173 
174     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
the head, casts its light from lock to muzzle, and
so enables the hunter to draw his bead as "fine'
as he may choose. Nothing need be said in favor
of this jack,-  which is here for the first time described, and thus made common property,-  beyond  the fact that, during the whole season in
which I hunted, mostly nights, I never marked a
deer with a bullet back of the ears, unless he was
on the jump when I shot.  And time and again,
as John Plumbley and many friends can testify,
on nights good, bad, and indifferent, sitting, kneelingi, or standing in the bow of a tottlish boat, I hlave
sink my bullet as squarely between the eyes as
one may place his finger. One word more touching the advantages of this jack. All my readers
who have hunted deer at night know that full
one half of them started will go out of the river
on a jump, and, when ten or twelve rods from
the bank, come to a stand-still. Now this distance is too great for an old-style jack to illiiuminate; and  often the hunter  must  signal his
guide to paddle on, when he knows the buck he
wants stands not a dozen rods away, looking
straight at him. Now, with the aid of a reflector,
my jack will throw a lane of light from fifteen to
twenty rods; and if the deer stops within that distance, as three out of five will, and you hold steady,
he is sure to come into your boat. Never shall i
forget an old buck I laid out one night up South 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
Inlet, on the IPacquette, as hlie stood with his nose
stuck into the air and blowing away like an animated trumpet. It was just seventeen rods from
the bow of the little shell I stood in, and the lead
went in at one ear and came out of the other.
So much for jack-shooting and my  jack.   I
have been thus minute in my description, because
I thought it might assist my brother sportsmen
to enjoy what I regard the most exciting of all
sport, -deer-shooting, at night.  I take this way
also of answering the many letters of inquiry concerning my jack recently addressed me by gentlemen who have heard of my invention from the
guides, and who would like to avail themselves of
it. It is rather expensive, but a sure thing, if
well made.
WAVell, to return to my narration. I was driving
the ball into the right barrel of my rifle when I
heard the soft dip of a paddle abreast of the camp,
and in a moment Martin stepped up the bank and
entered, paddle in hand, the circle of the firelight
Many who read this may remember Martin, brother
to him of the Lower Saranac House; but for the
sake of others, who have never seen him, I will give
a sketch of him.   I recall him perfectly as he
stood leaning on his paddle in my camp that night.
A tall, sinewy man he was, in height some six feet
two, in weight turning perhaps one hundred and
seventy pounds, - every ounce of superfluous flesh
175 
176     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
"sweated" off his body by his constant work at the
isaddle anld oars, which gave him  a certain gaunt,
bony look, to be seen only in mnen who live the
itiunter's life and eat the hunter's fare along our
lfrontiers.  Yet there was a certain litheness about
the form, a springy elasticity in the moccasined'
foot, a suppleness of motion, which, if it was not
grace, was something( next akin to it. ltis hair was
sandy, slhort, crisp, and curly.  His shoulders were
brought the least trifle forward, as boatmen's generally are, and especially such as leave their boats
to follow, with cat-like tread and crouching posture, the trail.  Pants and hunting-shirt of Scotcl
gray; a soft felt hat of similar color, and the inevitable short, thin knife stuck in a leathern sheath,
made up his outfit. A wiry, nervous man, I said
to myself; as I looked him  over; none  the less
nervous because a certain backwoodsiman's indif ference and nonc7talatce veiled the dash and fire
within. A good guide I warrant, easy and pleas ant of temper when  fairly treated, but hot and
violent as an overcharged and smutty rifle when
abused.
"Martin," said I, as I dragged my jack from
under a bag where it had lain concealed (for I
did n't wish every one to copy my invention the
first season), "what do you think of that?" and,
touching a match to the wick, I lifted the jack
to my head and buckled the throat-latch. 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A  FOGGY  NIGHIT.
"Well," said he, after looking at it a moment,
'that's a new idea, anyway.   Shlould n't wonder
if it worked; but I have seen so mniany new-fangied
notions brought into the woods  that were not
worth a toadstool, that I have about given up
ever seeing anything better than a piece of bark,
and a tallow dip, mlean and tricky as that is."
"Well," said I, mnoistening miy finger and liftin(, it into the air, "if that current of wind comes
out of the north, we shall want somethling better
thlian a tallow dip to see throughi the fog with before ten o'clock."
"That's the fact," broke in John; "I saw, an
hour ago, by the way that hard maple brand
snapped and glowed, that it was getting colder. By
the time you reach the river the fog will be thick
enough to cut, and the best thing you can do, both
of you, is to bunk in here witih me, and help me
lessen this bag of'Lone Jack.'"
"No," said I, "fog or no fog, we'11 go out.  I
know how much it would please the party to-morrow to see a good buck hanging in front of the
camp as they conme down the lake; and, Martin,
if you will do your part at the paddle, I'11 show
you how Never Fail acts when a deer stands looking into the muzzles"; and I patted the stock of
my double rifle, of whilch it is enough to say that it
has "N. Lewis, Troy, N.Y.," etched on either barrel.
"Well," replied Martin, as he turned toward
8*
177
L 
178     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS
the beach, "it's thirty-five years since I raised the
first blister on these hands with a paddle-staff, and
though it is a mighty silent paddle that is usually
back of you, yet we Saranac boys don't admit that
ally man in this wilderness can beat us in a still
hunt."
With this allusion to Johni's reputation at the
paddle, he headed his long, narrow boat out into
the lake, and steadied it between hlis kniiees until I
was seated in the bow; then, with a slight push,
sent the light shell from the beach, vaulting at the
same instant, with a motion airy as a cat's, into
his own seat astern.
Who that has ever visited the Adirondacks does
not grow enthusiastic as he recalls the beauty and
solemn splendor of the night, as he has beheld it
\while being paddled across some one of its many
hundred lakes?  The current of air which I had
noted at the camp, cool and refreshing after the
hot summer's day, was too steady and slight to stir
a ripple on the glassy water. The sky was in its
bluest tint, sobered by darkness. In the southern
'heavens, and even up to the zenith, the stars were
mellow and hazy, shorn of half their beams by the
moist atmosphere through which they shone. A
few, away to the south, over the inlet of that
name, lying back of a strata of air saturated almost to the density of vapor, beamned like so many
patches of illuminated mist.  But far to the north 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
and west, whence at intervals a thin gleam of
lig,htning shone reflected from some far-off nether
region, the low growl of thunder was occasionally
hleard.  Above, in the clear, cool bluie, the star
which  never moves, the  Dipper, and countless
other orbs, differing in glory, revealed in sharp,
clear outlines their stellary formations. The waveless water was to these heavens a perfect mirror;
and over that seamless surface, over planets and
worlds shining beneath us, over systems and constellations the mninutest star of which was visible
we softly glided.  WVith bowed head I gazed into
that illuminated sea.  I thought of that other sea
whlich is "of glass like unto crystal" before the
thirone, and the glory which must forever be reflected up from its depths.  "Is this the same
world of cities and cursing in which  I lived a
week ago?" I said to myself, "or have  I been
translated to sonie other and happier spl-here?"
AroLund me on all sides, as I gazed, Night dusky
and dim sat on the mountains, and brooded over
the starry sea, anid the all-enveloping silence of the
wilderness rested solemnly over all.  As I sat aid
imiused, -  yea, and worshipped, -  nmemory stirred
within me; the wvords of the Psalmist came to
mny lips, and I murmnured, "This is nighit which
showveth wisdom, and the melody of which has
gone out through all the world."
My nmeditations were somiewhat rtudely interirpt
179 
180     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
ed by the grating of lily-pads ag,ainst the sides of
the boat. WAe ihad crossed the lake, and were
entering the river.  IMy mood changed with  the
chlang,e of locality.   The lover of nature was instantly lost in the sportsman, and as we shot into
the forg, which, rising above the river, from the lake
looked like a gireat fleecy serpent twined amiid the
hills, eye and ear were all alert to detect the presence of gamie.   But we were doomed  to delay.
For nearly two miles we  crept throughi the daiiimp
and chilly fog, hearing nothing to interrupt the
profotiund silence save the occasional plunge of a
muskrat or the sputter of a frog skating alono' the
surface of the water.  But all of a sudden, when
heart and hope were about to fail, somne distance
ahead  of us we heard  the well-known sounds,
k-splasl, k-splash, and knew that a deer, and a
large one too, was  mnakiing for the shore.   here
our adventures began.  I  signalled Martin, by a
desperate " hitch" on the thwart, to run tle boat
at fill speed toward the sound.  He did.  The
light shell shot thirough tihe fog,, and when  in
swift career struck the bank, bow on.  Martin was
tremendous at the paddle, and a little more force
would have divided that marsh from side to side;
as it was, the thin, lathl-like boat was buried a third
of its length amid the bogs and marsh-grass.  Witb
much struiggle, and several suppressed but sugigies
tive exclaiuationis frolii Martin, we  extricated the 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
boat fiom the meadow and shoved out into clear
water.  We had heard nothing from the deer since
he left the river.  Thinking that possibly he might
have stopped, after gaining the bank, to look back.
as deer often do, I rose slowly in the boat, turned
uip the jack, anld peered anxiously into the fog.
The strong reflector bored a lane throughl the fleecy
mass for some fifty feet, perhaps; even at that distaice objects mingled grotesquely wvitl the fog. At
the extreme end of the opening I detected a bright.
diamondcl-like spark.  What was it?  I turned the
jack uip, and I turned it down.  I lowered myself
until my  eyes looked along the line of the grass.
I raised myself on tiptoe.  Notlinig more could )be
seen.  "It may be the eye of a deer, and it may be
only a drop of wsater, or a wet leaf," said I to imyself.  Still it looked gamy.  I concluded to latunch
a bullet at it anyway.  Wlisperiing to MaI(rtin to
steady the boat, I sunk my eye well downl into the
sights, and, holding- for the (rleam amid the marslhgrass, fired. The smoke, mingling-, heavily witli the
fog, mate all murky before me, whlile the exl)losion, strikling ag,ainst the mountains on either si(le,
started a dozen reverberations, so that we could
neither see nor hear what was the result of the
shot.  After waiting in silence a few moments,
hoping to hear the deer "kick," without any such
happy result, I told Alartin I would go ashore to
load, and see what it was I had shot at. Hlie paddled
181 
182     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
forward, and, seizing the tall grass, while he forced
the boat in against the bank with his paddle, I
clambered up.  Being curious  to ascertain what
had deceived me, I strode off into the marsh
some forty feet, and, turning up the jack, lo and
behold a dead deer lay at my feet! "Martin,"
shouted I, "here the deer is, dead as a- tick!"
"The d —  I!" exclaimed the guide from the fog.
"What did you say?" again I shouted.
"I said I did n't believe it," returned Martin,
soberly.
"Paddle your canoe ip here, then, you old sceptic, and see for yourself," I rejoined, taking the
deer by the ear and dragging him  to the bank.
"Here he is, and a imonster too."  Martin did as
directed.  "Well," exclaimed he, as he unbent his
gaunt form from the curve into which two hours
of paddling had craimped it, and straightened him self to his full hei,ght, until his eyes rested upon the
buck,   " well, Mr. Murray, you are the first man
I ever saw draw a fine bead in a night like this,
standing in the bow of a Saranac boat, at the twin kle of a deer's eye, and 7,ill. That jack of yours is
a big thing, and no mistake."  By the time he had
finished, the boat had drifted off into the river,
for the current was quite strong at that point,  and I was alone.  I was just fitting a cap to the
tube of the recharged barrel, when I felt a move  mnernb at my feet, and, casting my eyes downward, 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
I saw that the deer was in the act of getting up!
The ball, as we afterward discovered, had glanced
along the front of the skull, barely creasing the
skin.   It had  touched  the bone  slightly, and
stunned him so that he dropped; but beyond this,
it had  not hurt   iim in the least.   Quick as
thought, I put my foot against his shoulder and
pushed hini  over.   "Martin," I cried, "this deer
is n't dead; he's trying to get up.  What shall I
do?"
"Not dead! " exclaimed he, shouting from the
middle of the river through the dense fog.
"No, he is n't dead; far from it. He is mighty
lively, andl getting more and more so," I returned,
now having my hands full to keep the deer down.
"Come out and help me.  What shall I do?"
"Get hold of his hind leg; I'11 be with you in
a minute," was the answer.
I did as directed. I laid hold of his left hind leg,
just above the fetlocks, and sprang to my feet.
Reader, did you ever seize a pig by the hind
leg? If so, multiply that pig by ten; for every
twitch he gives, count six; lash a big lantern to
your head; fancy yourself standing alone on a
swampy marsh in a dark, foggy night, with a rifle
in your left hand, and being twitched about among
the bogs and in and out of muskrat-holes, until
your whole system seems on the point of a separation which shall send you in a thousand in
183 
184     ADVE,NTU IRES IN THE WILDERNLSS.
finitesimal parts  in all directions, like fra,gments
of an exiploding, buzz-wheel, and  you have  my
appearance and feeling,s as I was jerked about
that night anid the nmire and marslh-grass, as I
clung to the leg, of that deer.   Now, when I fasten to anything,  I avlways  exl,ect to hold  on.
This was mny determination when I p)ut my  fingers round that buck's leg,.  I hlave a tremendous
yril).  My fatelr hald before me.  Withl his hand(l
at a two-inch auger-hole in the head(l of a barrel, F
have seen hiIn clutch, now with his right, now with
his left hand, twenty-two house-rats as they came
darting, out to escape the stick with wllichll I was
stirring themI up, and dashl tlhemi  dead upon the
floor, without getting a single bite; and everybl)ody
knows that a rat, in full bolt, comes out of a barrel
like a flash of lightning.  I fully expected to maintain the family irestieC for grip.  I did.  I stuck
to thlat deer withl all my power of arm and will.  I
felt it to be a sort of personal contest b)etween him
anid myself.   Nevertheless, I was perfectly willing
at any time to let go. I hadl unidertaken the job at
the request of anothler, anid was ready to surrenlder
it instantly Lupon demnand.  I shouted to Martini to
get out of that boat mighty quick if he wanted to
take his deer hoie, for I should n't hold on to him
much longer. It took me about two minutes to deliver that sentence.   It was literally jerked out of
mie, word by word.   Never did I labor under greater
I 
JACK-SHOOTIrlNG IN A FOGGY NIGHT.    185
embarrassment in expressing myself. In the mean
while Maartin was mieetiing with difficulty.  The
banik of the river was steep, and the light cedar
shiell, with only himinself in it, was out of all balance, and hard to mnanag(e.  It nay be that his
very strong desire to get on  to  that meadow
where I was holding his deer for him operated
to confuise and embarrass  his  movements! He
would propel the boat at full speed toward  the
bank, tlhen jump for the bow;  but his motion
forward would release the boat from the mud,
and lwhen he reached the bow the boat would be
half-way across the river ag'ain.  Now Martin is a
aan of great patience.  Hle is not by any mieans a
profane person.  He had always shown great respect for the cloth.  Buit everybody will see that
his position was a very trying one.  Thlree several
timies, as he afterward informed me, did he drive
that boat into the bank, and three several times,
vleli he got to) the,bow, that boat was in the middle of the river.  At last Maartin's patience gave
wray, and out of the fog came to my ears ejaculatioIs of disgust, and  suchl  strong expletives as
are founid only in choice old English, and howls
of rag,e and disappointment that none but a guLide
could utter in like circumstances.  But human
endurance has  a limit.  I was fast reaching a
condition of mind when famtily pride and transmitted powers of resolution fail.  Wlhat did I care 
186     ADVENTUR,ES IN THE WILDERNESS.
for my father's exploit with the rats at the twoinlch  auger-hole?  Whlat  did  the  family grip
amount to after all?  I was fast losilg sight of
the connection such vanities sustained to me.  I
was underg,oing  a rapid change in many respects,
of body as well as mind!  Whlen I got hold of
that deer's leg, I was mentally full of pluck and
hlope; my hunting,-coat, of Irishl corduroy,  was
whole and tightly buttoned.   Now, mentally,  I
was demoralized; every button was gone from
the coat, and the right sleeve hung disconnected
w-ithl the body of the garment.  The jack had been
jerked from my head, and lay a rod off in the
marsh-grass.  I could hlold onl no longer.  I would
rmake one more effort, one more appeal.  I did.
"'.f artin," said I, "are n't you EVEII going to get
out of that boat?"
The heavy thug of thie boat against the bank, an
explosive and sputtering noise which sou'dled very
much like the word "damn " spoklen from b)etween
shut teeth, a splash, a scramble, and then I cau(ght
sight of the gaunt form of Mtrtin, paddle in hand
anId lhuiting-knife between his teeth, lopi1I.g along(
toward  me, through tic tall, rank grass.  But,
alas! it was too late.   The auspicious  moment
had passed.   My  fingers one by  one loosened
their hold, and the deer, gathering all his strength,
with a terrific elevation of his hind feet sent me
reeling backward, just as Martin, doubled up into 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.    187
a heap, was about to alight upon his back. He
missed the back, but, as good luck would have it,
even while the buck was in the air,   the deer
going up as Martin came downl, - the fingers of
the guide closed with a full and desperate grip
upon his tail.  Quick as a flash I recovered myself
from the bogs, replaced the jack, which fortunately had not been extinguished, upon my head,
and stood an interested spectator of the proceedings. Now everybody knows how a wild deer
can jump when frightened; and the buck, with
Martin fastened to his tail, was thoroughly
roused.  The first leap straightened the poor fellow
out like a lathe, but it did not sl-iake him from his
hold.  If the reader has ever seen a small boy
han ging to the tail-board of a wagon, when the
horse was at full speed, he can form a faint idea
of Miartin's appearance as the deer tore like a
whirlwind through the tall grass.  Blinded and
bewildered by the light, frenzied with fear, the
buck, as deer often will, instead of leading off,;
kept racing up and down just within the border
of light made by the jack, and occasionally niaking  a  bolt directly for it.  My  position was
unique.  I was the sole spectator of a series of
gymnastic evolutions truly original. Small as the
audience was, the performers were thoroughly in
earnest. Had there been ten thousand spectators,
%he actors could not have laid themselves out with 
188    ADVENTURES' IN THE WILDERNESS.
greater energy. No applause could have got anoth er inch of jump out of the buck, or another inch
of horizontal position out of Martin. Whenever,
at long intervals, his feet did touch the ground, it
was only to leave it for another and a higher aerial
plunge. Now and then the buck would take a short
stretch into the fog and darkness, only to reappear
with the same inevitable attachment of arms and
leg,s streaming behind. The scene was too ludicrous to be endured in silence. The desperate expression of Martin's face, as he was swung round and
jerked about, was enough to make a monk explode
with laughter while doing penance.  I rested my
hands on either knee, and laug,hed until tears rolled
down my cheeks.   The merrimenit was all on my
side.  Martin was silent as death, save when the
bulck, in some extraordinary and desperate leap,
twitched a grunt out of him.  Between my paroxysms I exhorted him: it was my time to exhort.
"Martin," I shouted, "hang, oni; that's your deer.
I quit all claim to him. Hang on, I say. Save
his tail anyhow." 
Whether MIartin appreciated the advice, whether he exactly saw where the "laugh came in," I
cannot say, and he could not explain.  Still, I am
led to think that it was to him no trifling affair,
but a matter which moved him profoundly.  At
last the knife was jerked from his teeth, either
because of the violence of his exertion, or because 
JACK- SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.    189
he had inadvertently loosened his grasp on it.
Be this as it may, Martin's mouth  was at last
opened, and out of it were projected some of the
most extraordinary expressions I ever heard.  His
sentences were sing,ularly detached. Even his words
were widely separated, but broughit out with great
emphasis.  He averaged about one word to a jump.
If another got partially out, it was suddenly and
ruithlessly snapped off in mid utterance.   The
result of his efforts to express himself reached my
ears very much in this shape: " Jump - will
you - be-e- cla,ncn — I've-e - GOT - you! I'11
-  hold-d - oN - till -your - ta-i-l -  comes -
off-f. -  JYtnt)-)-I) - be  D-D-DAMNED-  I'VE
got-  you-u-uI."
Wben  the contest wvould have ended,  what
would have  been the result had  it continued,
whether the buck or the guide would have come
off the winner, it is not easy to say. Nor is it
necessary to speculate, for thle close was speedily
reached, and in an unlooked-for manner.   The deer
had led off some dozen jumps out of the circle of
ligh-t, and I was beginning to think that he had
shaken himself loose from his enemy, when all at
once he emerged fromnt the fog, with Martin still
streaming behind him, and made straight for the
river.  Never did I see a buck vault higher or
project himself farther in successive leaps. The
'Saranacer was too much put to it to articulate a
Word; only a series of grunts, as he was twitched 
190     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDENESS.
along, revealed the state of his pent-up feelings
Past me the deer flashed like a feathered shaft,
heading directly for the bank. "Hang on, Martin!"
I screamed, sobered by the thought that he would
save him yet if he could only retain his grip,
"hang to him like death!" He did. Never did my
admiration go out more strongly toward a man than
it did toward Martin, as, red in the face and unable to relieve himself by a single expression, he
went tearing along at a frightful rate in full bolt
for the river.  Not one man in fifty could have
kept his single-handed grip, jerked, at the close
of such a struggle as the Saranacer had passed
through, and twitclied mercilessly as he now was
being through the tall bog-grass and over the uneven ground. But the guide's blood was up, and
nothing could loosen his clutch.  The buck reached
the bank, and, gathering himself up for a desperate leap, he flung his body iniito the air.  I saw a
pair of widely separated legs swing wildly upward, and the red face of Martin, head downward,
and reversed, so as to be turned directly toward me
by the summersault he was turning, disappeared
like a waning rocket in the fog overhanging the
river. Once ill the water, the buck was no match
for his. foe.  I hurried to the edge of the bank.
Beneath me, and half across the river, a desperate
struggle was going on. Martin had found his voice,
and was rising it as if to make up for lost time. In
a moment a gurgling sound reached my ears, and
I 
JACK-SHOOTING IN A FOGGY NIGHT.
I knew that the deer's head was under water; and
shortly, in ainswver to my hail, the guide appeared,
dragging thie buck  behind him.  The deer was
drowned and quite dead.  Drawing my knife across
the still warm throat, we bled himn well, and, waiting for Martin to rest himself a moment, slid himi
dovwn into the boat and stretched  him at full
length along the bottom.  Taking our places  at
either end, andl, lifting our paddles, we turned our
faces camipward.  I)own through thie dense, damp
fog,, cleaving with dripping faces its heavy folds, we
passed; glided out of the mist and darklness of the
lowland upon the clear waters of the lake, now
lively with ripples, and under the brightly shining
stLrus, nor  leceked our measured stroke until we
ran our shiell ashore in the glimmer of the fire, by
the side of whichl, rolled in his blanket, with his
jacket for his pillow, John was quietly sleeping.
At the touch of the boat on the beach he started
up, ald the coffee hie hlad made ready to boil at
our coming  was sli-)rtly readly, and, as we drank
tile warming   beverage with laughter which startled
the ravens from the pines, and woke the loons,
sleeping on the still water of Beaver Bay, we told
Jolmi the story of our adventure with a buck up
Marion River oni a foggy nighit.  And ofteni, as I
sit in my study, hot and feverish with toil which
wearies the birain and wrinkles the face, I pause,
and, throwing down pen and book, fancy myself
191 
192     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
once more upon that bank, enveloped in fog, with
the buck and Martin at his tail, careering befoie
me.  Then, with brain relaxed, and eyes which had
been hot with the glilmer of the gas or thlie white
sheet cooled and washed in mirtltul tears, I turn
to pen and book, and graver thlou,ghts, refreshed
and strengthlened.  Blessed be recollection, which,
while it allows the ills and cares of life to fade
awfay, enables us to carry all our pleasuies atd
joys forever witlh us as wAe journey alolng,!
MY JACK. 
X.
SABBATH IN T1HE WOODS.
AROSE  early, thlat I mi,ght behold the glo},1
of morning among the mounitains.   As  my
ayes opened, the eastern sky was already over,,read as with a thin silvery veil, with the least
o)f anmber and gold amid the threads; while
one so. -v star, like a great opal, hung, suspended
in the translucent atmosphere, with its rich heart
glowing with red and yellow flame.
MIy camp wras made on the very ridge-board of
the continent. Below me, to thie south, stretched
the silurian beach, upon whichl, as Atassiz believes,
the first ripples broke when God commnanded the
dry land to appear.  As I lay reflecting upon the
assertion of science, -  that these mountains were
aInongi the first to rise out of the Profound, that here
the continent had its infancy, that amid these
hei,ghts the earth began to take shape and form,I seemed to be able to overlook the world. Nor was
it at the cost of any great effort of the imagination
that I seemed to hear, as the dawn, brightened in
the east and the rose tints deepened along the sky,
as the darkness melted, the vapors floated up, and
9
o1
ut
.1 
194     ADVENTURES IN THIE WII,DERNESS.
the atmosphere grew tremulous as the lance-like
beams began to pierce it, the Voice which, in the
beginningo, said, "Let there be light!" As I gazed,
novel emotions arose within me.  The experience
was fresh and solemin. The air was cool, delicious.
The  earth was  clothed  as  a  queen  in  bridal
robes; and Morn, w-ith garments steeped in sweetsm,elling odors, her golden curls unbound and lifted
by unseen winds, streaming abroad as a yellow
mist,   like a maiden at the lattice of her lover,stood knocking at the windows of the East, and
saying: "Open to me, my love, my undefiled: for
my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the
drops of the night."
If a person would know how sensitive his nature is, howv readily it responds to every exhibition
of beauty and power, how thoroughly adapted it
is, in all its faculties, to religious impressions, he
must  leave the haunts of men, -where every
sight and sound distracts his attention, and checks
ihe free exercises of his soul, - and, amid the
silenice of the woods, hold communion with his
Maker.  It is the silence of the wilderness which
most impresses me. The hours of the Sabbath
pass noiselessly. No voice of conversation, no
sound of hurrying feet, no clangor of bells, no roll
of wheels, disturb your meditations. You do not
feel like reading or talking or singing. The heart
needs neitlher hymn nor prayer to express its emo 
SABBATH IN THE WOODS.
tions. Even the Bible lies at your side unlifted.
,The letters seem dead, cold, insufficient. You feel
as if the very air was God, and you had passed into
that land where written revelation is not needed;
for you see the Infinite as eye to eye, and feel him
in you and above you and on all sides.  It is true, at
intervals, you turn to the Bible. You have your
reading moods, when some apt passage, some appropriate selection or chapter, is read, with a profit and
rapture never before experienced. But this mood I
believe to be the exception. Ordinarily, the spirit
is above the letter. The action of eye and voice interfere with the sentiment.  You do not want to
read, but think. When you feel the presence of a
friend, have his hand in yours, see him at your very
side, you do not need to take up a letter and read
that he is with you.   So with God: in the silence
of the woods the soul apprehends him instinctively.
He is everywhere.  In the fir and pine, which,
like the tree of life, shed their leaves every month,
and are forever green; in the water at your feet,
which o10 paddle has ever vexed and no taint polluted, rivalling that which is as "pure as crystal "
in the mountains, which, in every literature, havebeen associated with the Deity, you see Him who
of old time was conceived of as a "Dweller among
the hills."  WTith such symbols and manifestations
of God around, you need not go to the lettered page
to learn of him. The Bible, with its print and
195 
196    ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
paper, is a hindrance rather than a help.  Likle a
glass with too narrow a field, it concentrates the
vision too much. It clips the wings of the ima,'ination, and narrows the circle of its flight.  Tlhc
spirit which, for the first timnle, perhaps, has escaped
the bonds of formal worship, for the first time
tasted of freedom and tested its capacities to soar,
returns regretfully to the restraint and bondage of
book and speech. It takes these up as an angel,
whose hands have once swept a heavenly harp,
touches again the strings of an earthly instrument.
This I have always observed, that the memory
is unusually active, and takes great delight in
recalling texts of Scripture and devotional hymns,
when brought under the influence of nature.  Passages from the Psalms, which I do not remember
that I ever committed; fragments of old and solemn
hymns, hewn I know not from what block, long
forgotten if ever learned; snatches of holy melody,
echoes awakened by what voice you cannot tell
come floating back upon you, or rise at the bidding
of the will.  Often have I said to myself, "Alas!
even memory is in bondage to sin." Nature,
through her refining and spiritualizing agencies,
emancipates it; and sweet is it to think that, by
and by, when our grossness is entirely purged
away, all pure things passed by or forgotten will
come back to us, and the past, in reference to what 
SABBATH IN THE WOODS.
ever of goodness and truth it had in it, will be, to
the holy, an eternal present.  Suchl has been my
experience, in reference to religious impressions,
felt amid the solitude of forests.  It takes more
than one season to analyze your emotions. The
mind, for a while deprived of the customary restraints and incitements of forms and ceremonies,
is in a chaotic state. Thoughts conme and go without order.  Emotions are irregular and inconstant.
The Occidental cast of intellect which conceives
of God largely through the reason, changes slowly
into the Oriental. It analyzes less, but it adores
far more. The religion of the forest is emotional
and poetic. No mathematician was ever born amid
the pines. The Psalms could never have been
written by one not inspired by the breath of the
hills. The soul, when it spreads its wings for flight
upward, must start fromnt the summit of mountains. It must have the help of altitude, or no
movement of wings will lift it. And I dare to say
that he who has never passed a Sabbath amid the
solemn loneliness of an uninhabited region, has
never knelt in prayer at the base of overhanging
mountains, has never fallen asleep with no roof
above him but that of the heavens, and no protection from the dangers which lurk amid the dark
ness of the night season save the watchful care of
God, can realize little the significance of these two
words, -Adoration and Faith.
197 
198    ADVENTURES IN THE WILTDERNESS.
The day wore on as I mused.  The sun passed
the meridian line, and soon the shadows of the pines
and hills began to stretch their cone-like formations out toward the east. As I gazed upon the
landscape, with a hundred mountains within sweep
of my eye, at whose feet lake after lake lay in peaceful repose, and between which numberless streams
flowed,,gleanling amid the forests of pine and fir
as threads of silver woven into a robe of Lincolngreen, I thought of the words of Isaiah: "I will
open rivers in high places, and fountains in the
midst of the valleys.  I will make the wilderness
a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water."
"The beast of the field shall honor me, and the owls,
because I give waters in the wilderness and rivers
in the desert." And I said to myself, "Surely He
sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run
among the hills.'" About three o'clock in the afternoon, as I sat looking out upon'the lake, a heavy
jar shook the earth, and simultaneously the air vibrated with the sound of thunder.   Turning my
eyes toward the west, I perceived a whitish mist
gathering along the mountains, while a few ragged
scuds came racing up from behind it, and I knew
that in the valleys westward columns of storm
were moving to the onset.
Amid this mountainous region tempests give
brief warning of their approach.  Walled in as
tl]%se lakes are by mountains, behind which the 
SABBATH IN THE WOODS.
cloud gathers unseen, the coming of a storm is like
the spring of a tiger. A sudden peal of thunder, a
keen shaft of lightning which c.uts through  the
atmosphere in front of your startled vision, a puff
of air, or the spinning of a whirlwind across the
lake, an.d the tempest is upon you.  So was it now.
Even as I gazed into the white mlist, a heavy bank
of jet-black cloud rose up thlroug,h its feathery
depths, unrolled itself as a battery unlimbers for
battle, and the next instant a shleet of flame darted
out of its very centre, and the air seemed rent into
fragments by the concussion.  Here was an exhibition of grandeur and power sulch as one seldom
beholds; and yet it did not seem out of harmony
with the day. Behold, I said to myself, the symool of the old dispensationl.  Here is Sinai, the
terror, and the cloud; here is law and judgment,
vengeance and wrath.  And there, I said, turning
to the eastern ridge, upon whose crest the sun, not
yet obscured, shone warmly, is the symbol of the
new, - of Calvary, its light and love.  Warned by
the scattering drops which, plunging through the
air, smote like shot upon the beach and water, I
hastened to the lodge; and as, seated in the door,
I gazed into the dark masses now rolled in wild
convolutions  together, -through whose  gloomy
folds the winds roared and rushed, tearing the dark ness into shreds, and scattering black patches on
every sidcle, — I thoiught of Him who "clothes the
199 
200     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
heavens with blackness, and makes sackcloth
their covering."
The storm passed. The cloud toward the west
grew thinner, and broke into rifts and ridges,
through which the sun sent its radiance in diverg ing columns.  As the beams deepened and spread
across the cloud, an arch of purple and gold began
to creep over it.  Beginning at the southern and
northern extremities, the colors clonib upward un til they joined themselves together at the centre,
and there, with two mountains for its pedestals,
the magnificent arch stood spanning the inky mass
from north to south; and as I sat silently gazing
upon  the resplendent symbols of God's abiding
mercy, which stood out in full relief against the
sombre cloud, in whose bosom might still be heard
the roll of thunder, I remembered the language of
Ezekiel, where he says, "I fell upon my face, and
I heard a voice of one that spake; for the appearance was of the likeness of the glory of the Lord."
Suddenly the colors faded away.  The sun had
called home his beams, and the glory of their reflection deserted the cloud. I turned my eyes to
the west, and up to the summit of the mountain
overhanging our camp.  For a moment the glowing
orb stood as though balanced on the top of the pines;
for a moment lake and forest and mountain were
ablaze with its radiance; the next it (drop)ed frcm
sight. The dark trees gloomily outlined themselves
I 
SABBATH IN THE WOODS.
against the clear blue of the sky; and, as the shadows deepened, I thoulght of the day foretold in the
Apocalypse, when  "our sun shall no more  go
down, neither shall the mnoon withdraw  herself.
For the Lord shall be our everlasting light, and
the days of our mourning shall be ended."
The day was over.  Night spread her sable
wings  over the camp, and the lake darkened under
the      shadow. On the sky and highest peaks a few
patches of crimson were still visible. For a few
moments an aureole lingered around the head of
Bluie      Mountain. The pines which adorn its crest
gleamed like the rich plume of a king when he
ridet h  at     noonday to battle.  One  instant the
beams       lingered lovingly about the summit, and
then,       obedient to a sunmmons  from  the west,
flew to  j     oin their companions in another hemisphere.       And now began the marvellous transformations      from day to night.  The clouds were rolled
together and lifted fromn sight. Unseen hands
flung     out  new tapestry for the skies, and lighted
lamps innumerable around the circling galleries,
a s    though the Sabbath had passed from earth, and
the         heavens  were being made ready for service.
If  th   e  day had been suggestive, much more so
was t     he night. To the north the Dipper hung
suspended royally against the blue of the sky,
journeying in silent revolution around the polar
star.            Farther eastward, and higher up, the lmourn
9*
20'1 
202    ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS,
ful Pleiades began their nightly search for their lost
sister. In the zenith a meteor wavered and trembled for a moment, then fell and faded away.  "A
wandering star," I said, "to which is reserved the
blackness of darkness forever." Tic balsams felt
the dew, and from their pendant spears dropped
odors.  I rolled myself in my blanket, and lay
gazing upward. A thousand recollections thronged
upon me;  a thousand hopes rose up within me.
The heavens elicited confidence, and unto them I
breathed my aspirations. I felt that He who telleth the number of the stars took note of me. The
Spirit which garnished the heavens would grant me
audience. I approached Hinm reverently, and yet
with confidence, for I remembered that it is written, "the heavens shall vanish away like smoke,
and the earth shall wax old like a garment, but
my salvation shall be forever, and my righteousness shall not be abolished."
Then, without help of book or spoken woyd, I
committed myself to Him, in whose sight the
night is as the day; and, alone in that vast wilderness, far from home and friends, I closed my eyes
tnd slept as one who sleeps on a guarded bed. 
XI.
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A
FREIGHT-CAR.
HOULDT) the reader ever visit the south inlet
of Racquette Lakhe,- one of the loveliest b)its
of water in the Adlirondack Wilderness, -at the
lower end of the pool, below thTe falls, on the lefthand side going up, he will see the charred remnants of a camnp-fire.  It was there that the following story was first told, - told, too, so graphically, with such vividness, that I found little difficulty, when writing it out from memory, two
months later, in recalling the exact words of the
narrator in almost every instance.
It was in the month of July, 1868, that John
and I, having located our permanent  camp  on
Constable's Point, were lying off and on, as sailors
say, about the lake, pushing our explorations on all
sides out of sheer love of novelty and abhorrence
of idleness. We were returning, late one afternoon
of a hot, sultry day, from a trip to Shedd Lake,-  a
lonely, out-of-the-way spot which few sportsmen
have ever visited, -  and had reached the falls on
South Inlet just after sunset. As we were getting 
204     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
short of venison, we decided to lie by awhile, and
float down the river on our way to camp, in hope
of meeting a deer.  To this end we had gone
ashore at this point, and, kindling a small fire,
were waiting for denser darkness.  We had barely
started the blaze, when the tap of a carelessly
handled paddle against the side of a boat warned
us that we should soonl have company, and in a
mnoment two boats glided around the curve below,
and were headed directly toward our bivouac. The
boats contained two gentlemen and their guides.
We gave them a cordial, hunter-like greeting, and,
lighting our pipes, were soon engaged in cheerful
conversation, spiced with story-telling. It might
have been some twenty minutes or more, when
another boat, smaller than you ordinarily see even
on those waters, containing only the paddler, came
noiselessly around the bend below, and stood revealed in the reflection of the firelight. I chanced
to be sitting in such a position as to command a
full view of the curve in the river, or I should not
have known of any approach, for the boat was so
Sharp and light, and he who  urged it along so
skilled at the paddle, that not a ripple, no, nor the
sound of a drop of water falling from blade or shaft,
betrayed the paddler's presence. If there is anything, over which I become enthusiastic, it is such
a boat and such paddling. To see a boat of bark or
cedar move through the water noiselessly as a cloud
I 
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR. 205
shadow drifts across a meadow, no jar or creak
above,  1o girg,ling of displaced water below,  no
whlirling and rippling wake astern, is something
bordering so nearly on the weird and ghostly, that
custom can never make it seem other than marvellous to me. Thus, as I sat, half reclining, and saw
that little shell come floating airily out of the darkness into the projection of the firelight, as a feather
might come, blown by the nig,ht-wind, I thought
I had never seen a prettier or more fairy-like sight.
None of the party save myself were so seated as to
look down stream, and I wondered which of the
three guides would first discover the presence of
the approaching boat.  Straight onit came.   Light
as a piece of finest cork it sat upon and glided over
the surface of the river; no dip and roll, no drop
of falling water as the paddle-shaft gently rose and
sank. The paddler, whoever he might be, knew
his art thoroughly.  He sat erect and motionless,
the turn of the wrists, and the easy elevation of his
arms as he feathered his paddle, were the only
movements visible.  But for these, the gazer might
deem himn a statue carved from the material of the
boat, a mere inanimate part of it. I have boated
much  in bark canoe and cedar shell alike, and
Jobn aind I have stolen on many a camp that
never knew our coming or oir going, with paddles
which touched the water as snow-flakes touch the
earth; and well I knew, as I sat gazing at this man, 
206     ADVENTURES IN THE i WILDERNESS.
that not one boatman, red man or white, i:t a hlundred could handle a paddle like that.  The quick
ear of John, when the stranger wTas within thirty
feet of the landing, detected the lightest possible
touch of a lily-pad against the side of the boat as
it just grazed it glancing by, and his " Hist!" and
sudden motion toward the river drew the attention
of thle whole surprised group thither.  The boat
glided to the sand so gently as barely to disturb a
grain, and the paddler, noiseless in all his movements, stepped ashore and entered our circle.
"Well, stranger," said John, " I don't know how
long your fingers have polished a paddle-shlaft, but
it is n't every man who can push a boat up ten
rods of open water within twenty feet of my back
without my knowing it."
The stranger laughed pleasantly, and, without
making  any  direct reply, lighted his pipe and
joined in the conversation. He was tall in stature,
wiry, and bronzed.  An ugly cicatrice stretched on
the left side of his face, from temple almost down to
chin.  His eyes were dark gray, frank, and genial.
[ concluded at once that he was a gentleman, andl
had seen service. Before he joined us, we had
been whiling away the time by story-telling, and
John  was  at the  very crisis of an  adventure
with a panther, when his quick ear detected the
stranger's approach.  Explaining this to him, I told
John to resume his story, which he did.  Thus 
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR.  207
half an hour passed quickly, all of us relatilng some
"experience." At last I proposed that Mr. Roberts
-for so we will call him - should entertain us;
"and," continued I, "if I am right in my surmise
that you have seen service and been under fire, give
us some adventure or incident which may have
befallen you during the war."   He complied, and
then and there, gentle reader, I heard from his
lips the story which, for the entertainment of
friends, I afterward wrote out. It left a deep impression upon all who heard it around our campfire under the pines that night; and from the mind
of one I know has never been erased the impression made by the story, which I have named
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A FREIGIIT                     CAR.
"Well," said the stranger, as he loosened his belt
and stretched himself in an easy, recumbent position, "it is not more than fair that I should throw
something into the stock of common entertainment; but the story I am to tell you is a sad one,
and, I fear, will not add to the pleasure of the
evening.   As you desire it, however, and it comes
in the line of the request that I would narrate
some personal episode of the war, I will tell it, and
trust the impression will not be altogether unpleasant. 
208-  ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
"'It was at the battle of Malvern Hill,- a battle
where the carnage was more frightful, as it seems
to mre, than in any this side of the Alleghanies during the whole war, - that my story must begin. 1
was then serving as Major in the -th Massachusetts Regiment,- the old -th, as we used to cal'
it, -and a bloody time the boys had of it too.
About 2 P. M., we had been sent out to skirmish
along the edge of the wood in which, as our geinerals suspected, the Pebs lay massing for a charge
across the slope, upon the crest of which our army
was posted.  We lhad barely entered the underbrush when we mnet the heavy formations of Magruder in the very act of charg,ing.  Of course,
our thin line of skirmishers was no impediment
to those onrushing masses.  They were on us and
over us before we could get out of the way. I do
not think that half of those running, screaming,
masses of men ever knew that they had passed
over the remnants of as plucky a regiment as ever
came  out of the old Bay State.   But many of
the boys had good reason to remember that afternoon at the base of Malvern Hill, and I among the
number; for when the last line of Pebs had passed
over me, I was left amid the bushes withli the breath
nearly trampled out of me, and an ugly bayonet-gash
through my thigh; and mighty little consolation
was it for me at that imoment to see the fellow
who run me through lyiiing stark dead at my side, 
A RIDE WITIH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR.  209
with a bullet-hole in his head, his shock of coarse
black hair matted withl blood, and his stony eyes
looking into mine. Well, I bandaged up my limb
the best I'ight, and started to crawl away, for
our batteries hlad opened, and the grape and canis ter that came lurcling down the slope passed but
a few feet over my hlead.  It was slow and painful
work, as you can imaginle, but at last, by dint of
perse, erance, I had dragged myself away to the
left of the direct range of the batteries, and, creepilgr to the verge of the wood, looked off over tihe
green slope.  I understood by the crash and roar
of the guIns, the yells and cheers of the men, and
that hoarse murmur which those who have been
in battle know, but which I canniot describe in
words, that there was hot work going on out there;
but never have I seen, no, not in that three days'
desperate e&1c  at the Wilderniess, nor at that terrific repulse we had at Cold Harbor, suchl ablsolute
slaughter as I saw that afternioon on the green
slope of Malvernl Hill.  The gunls of the entire
army were massed on the crest, and thirty tlhousa(nd
of our infantry lay, musket in hand, in front.  For
eight hundred yards thie hill sank in easy declension to the wood, and across the smoothi expanse
the PRebs must charge to reach our liies.  It was
nothing short of dowinright insanity to order mneii
to charg,e that hill; and so his generals told( Lee,
but he would not listen to reason that day, and so
lW 
210     ADt)VENTURES IN TIHEt WILDERNESS.
he sent regiment after regiment, and brigade after
brigade, and division after division, to certain deatlL
Talk about Grant's disregard of human life, his
effort at Cold Harbor -  and I ought to know, for I
got a minie in my shoulder that day- was hopeful and easy work to what Lee laid on Hill's and
Maagruder's divisions at Malvern.  It was at the
close of the second charge, when the yelling mass
reeled back from before the blaze of those sixty
guns and thirty thousand rifles, even as they began.
to break and fly backward toward the woods, that
I saw from the spot where I lay a riderless horse
break out of the confiused and flying mass, and,
with mane and tail erect and spreading nostril,
come dashing obliquely down the slope. Over
fallen steeds and heaps of the dead she leaped with
a motion as airy as that of the flying fox, whlen,
fresh and unjaded, hie leads away from the hounds,
whose sudden cry has broken him off froim hunting mice amid the bogs of the meadow.   So this
riderless horse came vaulting along.  Now firom myy
earliest boyhood I have had what horsemen call a
'weakness' for horses.  Only give me a colt of
wild, irregular temper and fierce blood to tame,
and I am perfectly happy. Never did lash of
mine, singing withi cruel sound through the air,
fall on such a colt's soft hid(le. Never did yell or
kick send his hot blood from heart to head deluging his sensitive brain with fiery currents, driving 
A RIDE WITII A MAD HORSE IN A CAR.  211
him to frenzy or blinding him with fear; but
touches, soft and gentle as a woman's, caressing
w-ords, and oats given from the open palm, and
unfailing kindness, were the means I used to'sub jug,ate'  him.  Sweet subjugation, both  to him
who subdues and to him who yields!  The wild,
unmannerly, and unmanageable colt, the fear of
horsemen the country round, finding in you, not
an enemy but a friend, receiving his daily food
from you, and all those little'nothings' which go
as far with a horse as a woman, to win and retain
affection, grows to look upon you as his protector
and friend, and testifies in countless ways his fondness for you.  So when I saw this horse, with
action so free and motion so graceful, amid that
storm of bullets, my heart involuntarily went out
to her, and my feelings rose higher and higher at
every leap she took from amid the whirlwind of
fire and lead.  And as she plunged at last over
a little hillock out of range and came careering
toward me as only a riderless horse might come,
her head flung wildly from side to side, her nostriis
wAidely spread, her flank and shoulders flecked with
foam, her eye dilating, I forgot miy wounid and all
the wild roar of battle, and, lifting myself involuntarily to a sitting posture as she swept grandly
by, gave her a ringing cheer.
"Perhlaps in the sound of a human voice of
happy mood amid the awful din she recognized a 
212     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
resemblance to the voice of him whose blood
moistened her shoulders and was even yet dripping
from saddle and housings. Be that as it may, no
sooner had my voice sounded than she flung her
head with a proud upward movement into the air,
swerved sharply to the left, neighed as she might
to a master at morning from  her stall, and came
trotting directly up to where I lay, and pausing,
looked down upon me as it were in compassion.
I spoke again, and stretched out my hand caressingly.  She pricked her ears, took a step forward
and lowered her nose until it camine in contact with
nmy palm.  Never did I fondle anything more tenderly, never did I see an animal which seemed
to so court and appreciate humanai tenderness as
that beautiful mare.  I say'beautiful.'  No other
word might describe her. Never will her image
fade froia my memory while memory lasts.
"In weight she might have turned, when well
conditioned, nine hundred and fifty pounds.  In
color she was a dark chestnut, with  a velvety
depth and soft look about the hair indescribably
rich and elegant.  Manly a time have I heard
ladies dispute the shade and hue of her plush-like
coat as they ran their white, jewelled  fingers
through her silken hair.  Her body was round in
the barrel, and perfectly symmetrical. She was
wide in the haunches, without projection of the
hip-bones, upon which the shorter ribs seemed to 
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR. 213
lap.  High in the withers as she was, the line of
her back and neck perfectly curved, while her
deep, oblique shoulders anid long thick fore-arm,
ridgy with swelling sinews, suggesting the perfection of stride and power.  Her knees across the
pan were wide, the cannon-bone below them short
and thin; the pasterns long and sloping; her hoofs
round, dark, shiny, and well set on.  Her mane
was a shade darker than hler coat, fine and thin,
as a thoroug,hbred's always is whose blood is without taint or cross.   Her ear wras thin, sharply
pointed, delicately curved, nearly black around the
borders, and as tremulous as the leaves of an
aspen. Her neck rose from the withers to the
head in perfect curvature, hard, devoid of fat, and
well cut utip under the chops. Her nostrils were full,
very fulil, and thin almost as parchment. The eyes,
from which tears might fall or fire flash, were well
brought out, soft as a gazelle's, almnost human in
their intelligence, while over the small bony head,
over neck and shoulders, yea, over the whole body
and clean down to the hoofs, the veins stood out as
if the skin were but tissue-paper against which the
warm blood pressed, and which it might at any
moment burst asunder.'A perfect animal,' I said
to myself, as I lay looking her over,-'an animal
which mig,ht have been born from the wind and
the sunshine, so cheerful and so swift she seems;
an animal which a man would present as his 
214     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
choicest gift to the woman he loved, and yet one
which that woman, wife or lady-love, would give
him to ride when honor and life depended on bot —
toin and speed.'
"All that afternoon the beautiful mare stood
over me, while 4way to the right of us the hoarse
tide of battle flowed and ebbed.  What charm,
what delusion of memory, held her there? Was
my face to her as the face of her dead master,
sleeping a sleep from which not even the wildest
roar of battle, no, nor her cheerful neigh at morning, would ever wake him? Or is there in animals
some instinct, answering to our intuition, only
more potent, which tells them whom to trust and
whom to avoid? I know not, and yet some such
sense they may have, they must have; or else
why should this mare so fearlessly attach herself to me?  By what process of reason or instinct I know not, but there she chose me for her
master; for when some of my mnen at dusk came
searching, and found me, and, laying me on a
stretcher, started toward our lines, the mare, uncompelled, of her own free will, followed at my
side; and all through that stormy night of wind
and rain, as my men struggled along throulgh the
mud and mire toward Harrison's Landing, the niare
followed, and ever after, until she died, was with
me, and was mine, and I, so far as ilan might be,
was hers. I iianied her Guluare. 
A RIDE WITH A MIAD HORSE IN A CAR.  215
"As quickly as my  wound  permitted, I was
transported to Washington, whither I took the mare
with me. Her fondness for me grew daily, and
soon became so marked as to cause universal comment.  I had her boarded, while in Washington,
at the corner of- Street and        Avenue.  The
groomn had instructions to lead her round to the
window against which was my bed, at the hospital,
twice every day, so that by opening the sash I might
reach out my hand and pet her. But the second
day, no sooner had she reached the street than slhe
broke suddenly from the groom and dashed away
at full speed.  I was lying, bolstered up in bed,
reading, when I heard the rush of flying feet, and
in an instant, with a joyful neigh, she checked
herself in front of my window. And when the
nurse lifted the sash, the beautiful creature thrust
her head through the aperture, and rubbed her nose
against my shoulder like a dog.  I am not ashamed
to say that I put both my armns around her neck, and,
bttrying my face in her silken mane, kissed her again
and again.  Wounded, weak, and away from home,
with only strangers to wait upon me, and scant
service at thlat, the affection of this lovely creature
for me, so tender and touching, seemed almiost human, and my heart went out to her beyond any
power of expression, as to the only being, of all the
thousands around me, who thoughclt of me and
loved me. Shortly after her appearance at my 
2n16    ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
window, the groom, who had divined where he
should find her, came  into the yard.  But sle
would not allow him to come near her, much less
touch her. If hlie tried to approach she would lash
out at him with her heels most spitefully, and thlen,
laying back her ears and opening her mouth sav.
ag,ely, would make a short dash at him, and, as thc
terrified African disappeared around the corner of
the hospital, she would wheel, anid, with a face
bright as a happy chlild's, come trotting to the wiiidow for me to pet hier.  I shouted to the grooiu to
go back to the stable, for I hiad no doubt blit that
she would return to her stall wlihen I closed tlihe
window.  Rejoiced at the permission, he departed.
After some thirty minutes, the last teli of which
she -was standing with her slim, delicate head in
my lap, while I braided her foretop and combed
out her silken malte, I lifted her head, and, patting hier softly on  either cheek, told hier that
she must'go.'   I gently pushed her head out
of the window and closed it, and then, holding
up my hand, with the palm turned toward her,
charged her, makilng, the appropriate motion, to' go
away right straight lack to her stable.'  For a lioment she stood looking steadily at me withl an indescribable expression of hesitation and surprise in
her clear, liquid eyes, and then, turning lingeringly,
walked slowly out of the yard.
"Twice a day, for nearly a mouth, while I lay in 
~A~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~' I~~3;~~ 
y~~~~i~~~~{j ~ ~ ~ ~   I 
('A,d,Ialy a/rd        st.., A/yi  i,,      wrd w
re,,,.,d, -,,y  
A RIDE WIiH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR. 217
the hospital, did Gulnare visit me. At the appointed hour the groom would slip her headstall,
and, without a word of command, she would dart
out of the stable, and, with her long, leopardlike lope, go sweeping down the street and come
dashilngr into the hospital yard, checking herself
with the same glad neigh at my window; nor did sihe
ever once fail, at the closing' of the sash, to return
directly to her stall. The groom informed me that
every miorning and evening, when the hour of her
visit drew near, she -would begin to chafe and worry, and, by pawving and pulling at the halter, advertise himn that it wAas timne for her to be released.
"But of all exhibitions of happiness, either by
beast or man, hers was the nmost positive on that
afternoon when, racing into the yard, slihe found inme
leaning oni a crultcl outside the hospital building.
The whole corps of nurses caine to thie doors, and
all the poor f,llow\s that could move tleminselves,
for Gulnare had become an universal favorite, anid
the boys looked f)r her daily visits nearly, if not
quite, as ardently as I d';d, -  crawled to the windows to see her.  Whlat gladness was expressed in
every movement!  She would come prancing toward me, head and tail erect, and, pausing, rub her
head against my shoulder while I patted her glossy
neck; then, suddenly, with a sidewise spring,
sle would bLreak away, and, with her long tail ele vated until her imag,nificent bruash, fine and silken
10 
218     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
as the golden hair of a blonde, fell in a great spray
on either flank, and her head curved to its proud
est arch, pace around me with that high action
and springing step peculiar to the thoroughbred.
Then like a flash, dropping her brush.and layinlg
back her ears, and stretching her nose straight out,
she would speed away with that quick, nervous,
low-lying action which marks the rush of racers,
whenl, side by side, and nose to nose, lapping each
other, with the roar of cheers on either hand aind
along tihe seats above them, they come straining up
the home stretch. Returning from one of these arrowxy flights, she would come curvetting back, now
pacing sideswise, as on parade, now dashing hei
hinl feet high into the air, and anon vaulting up
and springing, thlroug,h the air, with legs well under
her, as if in the a,t of takingr a five-barred gate,
and, finally, would approach and stand happy in
hier rewardl, - my caress.
"The war, at last, was over.  Gulnare and I
were il at the deatih with Sheridan at the Five
Forks.  Together we had shared the pageant at
])ichmnond and WAVashingrton, aind never had I seen
her in better spirits than on that day at the capital.  It was a sight, indeed, to see hier as she came
down Pennsylvania Avenue. If the triumphant
procession had been all in her honor and mine,
she could not have moved with greater grace and
pride. Witlh dilating eye and tremulous ear, cease 
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR.  219
lessly champing her bit, her heated blood bringing
out the magnificent lace-work of veins over her entire body, now and then pausing, and, with a snort,
gathering herself back upon her haunches, as for a
mighty leap, while she shook the froth from her
]bits,' she moved with a high, prancing step down
the ma,gnificent street, the admired of all beholders,
cheer after cheer was given, huzza after huzza rant,
out over her head from roofs and balcony, bouquet
after bouquet was launched by fair and enthusiastic admirers before her; and yet, amid the crash
and swell of music, the cheering and tumult, so
gentle and manageable was she, that, though I
could feel her frame creep and tremble under ime
as she moved through that whirlwind of excitemenit, no check or curb was needed, and the bridlelines  - the same she wore when she camie to Ine
at Mialvern Hill -lay unilifted on the pommel
of the salddle.   Never before had I seen her so
grandly herself.  Never b)efore had tbi lire and
energy, the grace and gentleness, of hler blood so
revealed( themselves.  This was the day and the
event she needed.  And all the royalty of her ancestral breed,   a race of equine kings, - flowing
as without taint or cross from him that was the
pride and wealth of the whole tribe of desert
rangers, expressed itself in her.  I need not say
that I shared her mood.  I syminpathiz.;d in her
every step.  I entered into all her royal humorsi 
220     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
I patted her neck, and spoke loving and cheerful
words to her. I called her my beauty, my pride,
my pet. And did she not understand me? Every
word! Else why that listening ear turned back
to catch my softest whisper? why the responsive
quiver through the frame, and the low, happy
neigh?  "Well," I exclaimed, as I leaped from her
back at the close of the review,- alas! that words
spoken in lightest mood should portend so much!
—' well, Gulnare, if you should die, your life has
had its triumph. The nation itself, through its admiring capital, has paid tribute to your beauty, and
death can never rob you of your fame.' And I
patted her moist neck and foam-flecked shoulders,
while the grooms were busy with head and loins.
"That night our brigade made its bivouac just
over Long Bridge, almost on the identical spot
where, four years before, I had camped my company of three months' volunteers. With what experiences of marli and battle were those four
years filled! For three of these years Gulnare had
been my constant companion.   With me she had
shared my tent, and not rarely mny rations, for in
appetite she was truly human, and my steward
always counted her as one of our'mness.'  Twice
had she been wounded,   once at Fredericksburg,
through the thigh; and once at Cold Harbor, where
a piece of shell tore away a part of her scalp. So
completely did it stun her, that for some moments 
A RIE WITI A MAD HORSE IN A CAR.  221
I thoughit her dead, but to my great joy she shortly recovered her senses. I had the wound carefully
dressed by our brigade surgeon, from whose care
she came in a mionth, with the edges of the wound
so nicely united that the eye could with difficulty
detect the scar.  This night, as usual, she lay at
my side, her head almost touching mine.   Never
before, unless when on a raid, and in face of
the  enemy,  had  I seen her so uneasy.   Her
movements during the night compelled wakefulness on my part. The sky was cloudless, and in
the dimi light I lay and watched her.  Now she
would:,tretch herself at full length, and rub her
head on the ground.  Then she would start up,
and, sitting on her haunches, like a dog, lift one
fore leg and paw her neck and ears.  Anon she
would rise to her feet and shake herself, walk off
a few rods, return, and lie down again by my side.
I did not know what to make of it, unless the
excitement of the day had been too much for her
sensitive nerves. I spoke to her kindly, and petted
her. In response she would rub her nose against
me, and -lick mny hand with her tongue - a peculiar habit of hers-  like a dog.  As I was passing
my hand over her head, I discovered that it was
hot, and the thought of the old wound flashed into
my miind, with a momentary fear that something
might be wrong about her brain, but, after thinking it over, I dismissed it as incredible.  Still I 
222     Ai)VENTURtiES IN THE WILDERNESS.
was alarmed.  I knew tiat something was amiss,
and I rejoiced at the thought that I should soon
be at homie, where she could have quiet, and, if
need be, the best of nursing. At lengthl the morniig dawned, and the mare and I took our last meal
together oft Southern soil,- the last we ever took
together.  The brigade was formed in line for the
last timie, and, as I rode down the front to review
the boys, she moved with all her old battle grace
and power.  Only now and thlen, by a shake of the
head, was I reminded of her actions during the
night.  I said a few wvords of farewell to the men
whom  I had led so often to battle, with whom  I
liad shared perils not a few, and by whom, as I hlad
reason to think, I was loved, and then gave, with
a voice slightly unsteady, the last order they would
ever receive from me:'Brigade, attention! Ready
to break ranks, Bracc7 c'antks!'   The order was
obeyed.  But ere they scattered, moved by a common impulse, th-ey gave first three cheers for me,
and then, with the same heartiness and even more
power, three cheers for Gulliare.  And she, standing thiere, looking with Tier bright, cheerful countenance  full at the men, pawing  with hier fore
feet, alternately, the ground, seemed to understand
the complimnenit; for no sooner had the chieering
died away thian she arched her neck to its proudest
curve, lifted hier thin, delicate head into the air,
and gave a shiort, joyful neigh. 
A TmE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR, 223
"My arrangemnents for transporting her had been
made by a friend the day before. A large, roomy
car had been secured, its floor strewn with bright,
clean stlaw, a bucket, and a bag of oats provided,
and everything done for her comfort.  The car was
to be attached to the through express, in consideration of fifty dollars extra, which I gladly paid, because of the greater rapidity with which it enlabled
me to make my journey.  As the brigade broke
up into groups, I glanced at my watch and saw
that I had barely time to reach the cars before
they started.  I shook the reins. upon her neck,
and with a plunge, startled at the energy of my
si,gnal, away she flew.  What  a stride she had!
Whlat an elastic spring! Shle touched and left the
earth as if her limbs were of spiral wire.  When
I reached the car my friend was standing in front
of it, the gang-plank was ready, I leaped from the
saddle, and, running up the plank into the car,
whistled to her; and she, timid and hlesitating, yet
unwilling to be separated from  ine, crept slowly
and cautiously up the steep inline, and stood beside nie.  Inside I fotund a complete suit of flalnnel clothes, with a blanket, and, better than all, a
lunchl-basket.   My friend explained that  lie had
bought the clothes as he canie down to the depot,
thinking, as he said,'that they would be much
better than your re,gimentals,' and suiggested that I
dc)ff the one and don the other. To this I assented 
224     ADVENTURES IN THIE WILDERNESS.
the more readily as I reflected that I would have
to pass one night, at least, in the car, with no better bed than the straw under my feet.  I had
barely time to undress before the cars were coupled
anid started. I tossed the clothes to my friend
with the injunction to pack them in my trunk and
express them on to mle, and waived him my adieu.
I arrayed myself in the nice, cool flannel, aind
looked arounid.  The thoughtfulness of my friend
had anticipated every want. An old cane-seated
chair stood in one corner.  The lunch-basket was
large, and well supplied.  Amiid the oats I found
a dozen oranges, some bananas, and a package of
real Havana cigars.  How I called down blessings
on his thoughtful head as I took the chair, and,
lighting one of the fine-flavored figaros, gazed out
on the fields past whilch we were gliding, yet wet
with morning dew.  As I sat dreamily admiring
the beauty before me, Gulnare came and, resting lher
head upon my shoulder, seemed to share mly mood.
As I stroked her fine-haired, satin-like nose, recollection quickened, and memories of our companiionship in perils thronged into my mind.  I rode
again that midnight ride to Knoxville, when Burn,side lay intrenched, desperately holding his own,
waiting for news from Chattanooga, of which I
was the bearer, chosen by Grant himself because
of the reputation of my mare.  What riding that
was! We  started, ten riders of us in all, each 
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR.  225
with the sanme message.  I parted company the
first hour out with all save one, an iron-gray stallion of Messenger blood.   Jack Murdock rode
him, who learned his horsemanship from buffalo
and Indian hunting on the Plains,- not a bad
school to graduate from.  Ten miles out of Knoxville the gray, his flanks dripping with blood,
plunged up abreast the mare's shoulders and fell
dead; and Gulnlare and I passed through the lines
alone.  I had ridden the terrible race without whip
or spear.  With what scenes of blood and flight
she would ever be associated! And then I thought
of home, unvisited  for four long years,- that
homne I left a stripling, but to which I was returning a bronzed and brawny man.  I thought of
mother and Bob,   how they would admire her!of old Ben, the family groom, and of that one who
shall be nameless, whose picture I had so often
shown to Gulnare as the likeness of her future
mistress;-had they not all heard of her, my
beautiful mnare, she who came to me from the
smoke and whirlwind, my battle-gift?  How they
would pat her soft, smooth sides, and tie her mane
with ribbons, and feed her with all sweet things
from open and caressing palm! And then I thought
of one who might come after her to bear her name
and repeat at least some portion of her beauty,a horse honored and renowned the country through,
because of the transmission of the mother's fame.
10*                       0o 
226     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
"About three o'clock in the afternoon a change
came over Gulnare.  I had fallen asleep upon the
straw, and she had come and awakened me with a
touch of her nose. The moment I started up I
saw that something was the matter. Her eyes
were dull and heavy. Never before had I seen
the light go out of them. The rocking of the car
as it went jumping and vibrating along seemed to
irritate her.  Shle began to rub her head against
the side of the car. Touching it, I found that the
skin over the brain was hot as fire.  Her breathing grew rapidly louder and louder.  Each breath
was drawn with a kind of gasping effort.  The
lids with their silken fringe drooped wearily over
the lustreless eyes. The head sank lower and lower, until the nose almost touched the floor.  The
ears, naturally so lively and erect, hung limp and
widely apart.  Thie body was cold and senseless.
A pinch elicited no motion. Even my voice was
at last unheeded. To word and touch there came,
for the first time in all our intercourse, no response.
I knew as the symptoms spread what was the matter. The signs bore all one way. She was in the
first stages of phrenitis, or inflammation of the brain.
In other words, quy beautiful mare was going mad.
"I was well versed in the anatomy of the horse.
Loving horses from my very childhood, there was
little in veterinary practice with which I was not
familiar. Instinctively, as soon as the symptoms 
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR. 227
had developed themselves, and I saw under what
frightful disorder Gulnare was laboring, I put my
hand into my pocket for my knife, in order to open
a vein. There was no knife there. Friends, I have
met with many surprises. More than once, in
battle and scout, have I been nigh death; but
never did my blood desert my veins and settle so
around the heart, never did such a sickening sensation possess me as when, standing in that car
with my beautiful mare before me, marked with
those horrible symptoms, I made that discovery.
My knife, my sword, my pistols even, were with
my suit in the care of my friend, two hundred
miles away.  Hastily, and with trembling fingers,
I searched my clothes, the lunch-basket, my linen;
not even a pin could I find. I shoved open the
sliding door, and swung my hat and shouted, hoping to attract some brakeman's attention.   The
train was thundering along, at full speed, and none
saw or heard me.  I knew her stupor would not
last long. A slight quivrering of the lip, an occasional spasm running through the frame, told nme
too plainly that the stage of frenzy would soon begin.'My God!' I exclaimed, in despair, as I shut
the door and turned toward her,'must I see you
die, Gulnare, when the opening of a vein would
save you?  Have you borne me, my pet, through
all these years of peril, the icy chill of winter, the
heat and torment of summer, and all the thronging
.1 
228     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
dangers of a hundred bloody battles, only to die
torn by fierce agonies, when so near a peaceful
home?
But little time was given me to mourn. My
life wvas soon to be in peril, and I must summon up
the utmost power of eye and limb to escape the
violence of mny frenzied mare.  Did you ever see a
mad horse when his madness is on him?  Take
your stand with me in that car, and you shall see
what suffering a dumb creature can endure before
it dies. In no malady does a horse suffer more
than in phrenitis, or inflammation of the brain.
Possibly in severe cases of colic, probably in rabies
in its fiercest form, the pain is equally intense
These three are the most agonizing of all the diseases to which the noblest of animals is exposed.
Had my pistols been with me, I should then and
there, with whatever strength Heaven granted, have
taken my companion's life, that she might be
spared the suffering which was so soon to rack and
wring her sensitive frame.  A horse laboring under
an attack of phrenitis is as violent as a horse can
be. He is not ferocious as is one in a fit of rabies.
He may kill his master, but he does it without
design. There is in him no desire of mischief for
its own sake, no cruel cunning, no stratagem and
malice. A rabid horse is conscious in every act
and motion.  He recognizes the man he destroys.
There is in him an insane desire to kill. Not so 
A RIDE WITH A MAIAD HORSE IN A CAR. 229
with the phrenetic horse. He is unconscious in his
violence. He sees and recognizes no one. There
is no method or purpose in his madness. He kills
without knowing it.
"I knew what was coming. I could not jump out;
that would be certain death. I must abide in the
car and take my chance of life. The car was fortunlately high, long, and roomy. I took my position
in front of my horse, watchful and ready to sprin,g.
Suddenly her lids, which had been closed, came
open with a snap, as if an electric shock had passed
through her, and the eyes, wild in their brightness,
stared directly at me. And what eyes they were!
The membrane grew red and redder, until it was of
the color of blood, standing out in frightful contrast
with the transparency of the cornea. The pupil
gradually dilated until it seemed about to burst
out of the socket. The nostrils, which had been
sunken and motionless, quivered, swelled, and
glowed. The respiration became short, quick, and
gasping.  The limnp and drooping ears stiffened and
stood erect, pricked sharply forward, as if to catch
the slightest sound. Spasms, as the car swerved
and vibrated, ran through her frame. More horrid
than all, the lips slowly contracted, and the white,
sharp-edged teeth stood uncovered, giving an indescribable look of ferocity to the partially opened
louth! The car suddenly reeled as it dashed
around a curve, swaying her almost off her feet, 
230     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
and, as a contortion shook her, she recovered herself, and, rearing upward as high as the car permitted, plunged directly at me.  I was expecting
the movement, and dodged.  Then followed exhlibitions of pain which I pray God I may never see
again.  Time and again did she dash herself upon
the floor, and roll over and over, lashing out with
her feet in all directions.  Pausing a moment, she
would stretch her body to its extreme length, and,
lying upon her side, pound the floor with her hlead
as if it were a maul. Then, like a flash, she would
leap to her feet, and whirl round and round, until,
from very giddiness, she would stagger and fall.
She would lay hold of the straw with hier teeth,
and shake it as a dog shakes a struggling woodchuck; then dashing it fromn her mouth, she would
seize hold of her own sides, and rend herself.
Springing up, she would rush against the end of
the car, falling all in a heap from the violence of
the concuission.  For some fifteen minutes, without
intermission, the frenzy lasted. I was nearly exhausted. My efforts to avoid her mad rushes, the
terrible tension of my nervous system produced by
the spectacle of such exquisite and prolonged suffering, were weakening me beyond what I should
have thought it possible an hour before for anything
to weaken me. In fact, I felt my strength leaving
me.  A terror, such as I had never yet felt, was
taking possession of my mind.  I sickened at the 
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR.  231
sight before me, and at the thought of agonies yet
to come.' My Godcl,' I exclaimed,'must I be killed
by my own horse in this miserable car!' Even as
I spoke, the end came. The mare raised herself
until her shoulders touched the roof, then dashed
her body upon the floor with a violence which
threatened the stout frame beneath her. I leaned,
panting and exhausted, against the side of the car.
Gulnare did not stir.  She  lay motionless,  her
breath coming and going in lessening respirations.
I tottered toward her, and, as I stood above her,
my ear detected a low, gurgling sound. I cannot
describe the feeling that followed. Joy and grief
contended within me. I knew the meaning of
that sound.   Gulnare, in her frenzied violence,
had broken a blood-vessel, and was bleeding internaily. Pain and life were passing away together.
I knelt down by her side. I laid my head upon
her shoulders, and sobbed aloud. Her body moved
a little beneath me. I crawled forward and lifted
her beautiful head into my lap. 0, for one more
sign of recognition before she died!  I smoothed
the tangled masses of her mane. I wiped, with
a fragment of my coat, torn in the struggle, the
blood which oozed from her nostril.  I called her
by name. My desire was granted. In a moment
Gulnare opened her eyes. The redness of frenzy
had passed out of them. She saw and recognized
me. I spoke again. Her eye lighted a moment
I 
232     ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS.
with the old and intelligent look of love. Her ear
moved; her nostril quivered gently as she strove
to neigh. The efifort was in vain. Her love was
greater than her strength. She moved her head a
little, as if she would be nearer me, looked once
more with her clear eyes into my face, breathed
a long breath, straightened her shapely limbs, and
died. And there, holding the head of my dead
mare in my lap, while the great warm tears fell
one after another down my cheeks, I sat until the
sun went down, the shadows darkened in the car,
and night drew her mantle, cnlcr"  like n)y {rice
over the world." 
APPENDIX.
BEACH'S SIGHT.
I FEEL that I cannot do my brother sportsmen
who may read this book a greater service than by
bringing this invention to their notice.
The great desideratum and problem with riflemakers and sportsmen, as all are aware, has been to
invent a sight that would combine all the merits of
"bead" and "open" sight, so that the hunter would
be able at will, and without a moment's delay, to
use the globe or open sight, according as the game
might be in motion or stationary, amid the shadows
of the forest or in the sunlight of the fields, or as the
color of the object might be dark or bright.
All sportsmen know how vexatious it is to have to
"rap" out one sight to insert another, necessitating
as it does tedious delay and the wearisome process
of "sighting," when  there  may  be  neither  time
nor powder to spare, and no appliances at hand to
effect an accurate adjustment.
In this invention this desideratum is met, and the
solution found.
By a glance at the following cuts, every man  acquainted with the rifle will see'how completely Mr.
. 
APPENDIX.
Beach's ingenuity has furnished what every rifleman
has so long  desired.   He will see that this sight
combines, in a cheap and simple form, the merits of
the  "bead"  and  "open " sights,  so  that without
any removal, withou.t an instant of delay, by a single
mIovement of the finger, the hunter can use either, as
his judgment decides is best, whten he stands tooking at
his game.
Adjusted for Globe Sight.
The writer of this has had for nearly a year this
sight upon his favorite rifle, where it has had months
of actual trial and, whether upon the target-grounds
of our best clubs or amid the Adirondack wilderness,
it has met every want, and remains to-day, where it
always will remain, on his rifle, an indisputable witness
to the value of the invention.
If space would allow, we might quote the enthusiastic indorsement of such men as Lewis of Troy,
W. P. McFarland,  Superintendent of the Massachusetts Arms CompanIy; the celebrated veteran sportsman
Edward Stabler, Esq., of Maryland; F. G. Gunn, Esq.,
President of the Hawk Eye Rifle Club of Connecti
234
Adjusted for Open Sight. 
APPENIDIX.
cut, and of scores of hunters and trappers in Northern
New York, whlere the sight was taken for trial last
summer.
fVithout a singile exceptionsi, the verdict hlas  been
unanimous for its adoption.
A hunter in Canada writes: " I would not part with
Beach's sight, after four months' trial, for twenty mninkskins."  Another, from Connecticut, writes: " Fifty
dollars would not purchase my sight." Yet another,
from the North Woods, declares: "The best thing I
ever saw. I have hunted and trapped for thirty years,
and I can kill onte third more game with this sight
than with any other I ever had." An amateur in
New York City writes: "The moment I saw the sight,
my heart leapt for joy.  Here is what I have always
oeen looking for.  I would have bought it at ten times
its price. No rifle is fit for use without it."
The following note is from Mr. Stabler.
SA.NDY SPrING, November  30, 186X.
To E. B. BEACH, Pateatee of Beach's Combinatio? Sight, fWest Jfe?i   den, Connecticut: -
I duly received, by mail, the patent bead or globe rifle
sight.  In principle it is by far the most complete and perfect affair of the kind I have ever seen.  In thus combining
the two sights, the hunter hlas all the advantage of botlh,
by a mere touch of the finger, -  a perfect  ead(l sight for
hunting, and a globe for close and long range shooting.
Very respectfully,
EDWARD STAILER.
The two illustrations will serve to give yoil an idea
of how  the sight operates, but to fairly apprecia,to;t
2335
.1 
APPENDIX.
you must have it on your own rifle a few days, and
see how admirably and completely it meets every want
of the practical sportsman, in wood and field service.
The sights are made with bases of different sizes,-so as
to fit any rifle, whether the slot is wide or narrow. In
ten minutes, any man with a file can fit one to his
rifle. Every sight is warranted. If it does not give
perfect satisfaction, upon trial, you can return it and
the money will be refunded.
Unfortiunately, the firm which contracted with Mr.
Beach to manufacture the sights failed before introducing them to the public, and the affairs of the
company still being in litigation, the demand for
these sights is left unsupplied. I understand that
arrangements are making by which Mr. Beach will
proceed to manufacture them himself; and I advise
every one who owns a rifle to write him on the receipt
of the information herein given, which, without the
solicitation or knowledge of Mr. Beach, I gladly aind
freely impart.
Address, E. B. BEACH, Esq., West Meriden, Cow.
THE END.
256