36 



HARDWOOD RECORD 



cwelve and a half miles an hour. 



Two mountaineers had periled their lives by climbing down the 

 precipitous cliflfs that encompassed the river, in order to get th'; 

 best possible view of the drive. They stood on a cliff just above 

 the mouth of Grassy ereek when the mass of logs, foam and 

 water came dashing' past them. At one time in their career the> 



had had the exceptional opportunity for mountaineers of visitini; 

 Niagara Falls. 



"Lige" said one of them, "Hit makes N 'gree Falls look like 

 four bits' worth of blockade whisky in Dave Lockhart's camp, 

 don't hit?" 



"I reckon it do, Bill," vouchsafed his companion. 



j^^tw ^ ' Mjw ^iWiiimtw^aiamiJitiKaw^'ro*^^ 



The Editor at Play 



Camp Gibson, Elkmont, Sevier Co., Tenn., .July 1, 1912. 



To paraphrase the pertinent observation of Henry Ward 

 Beecher, perhaps the Almighty might have made a more salubii- 

 0U3 and alluring region for health and pleasure-seeking than the 

 Great Smoky Mountain region— but He didn't. 



I have tramped nearly every section of wooded area of the 

 United States and Canada, and I never yet have found such a 

 combination of favorable features for 

 camp life as is embraced in the lower 

 Appalachians for a summer sojourn. 

 The temxjerature is right, the air is de- 

 lightful, the spring water is pure and 

 plentiful, the scenery is magnificent, the 

 flowers are in profusion, bird life nu- 

 merous, and in tree growth the region 

 abounds in more than a hundred varie- 

 ties. While the game has been pretty 

 well hunted out during the hundred 

 years of sparse human occupation, still 

 there are considerable numbers of bear, 

 deer and turkey to be found in the re- 

 mote tops. In the higher altitudes the 

 streams also abound in brook trout. 



Satisfactory, and in some case, re- 

 markably alluring food supplies are ob- 

 tainable. There are no finer food prod- 

 uct than the fine water-ground, white 

 corn meal, of mountain grown corn, and 

 if there is a more delectable sweet than 

 mountain honey, I don't know where it 

 abounds. 



* * * 



My summer camp this year, where I am 

 seeking health and recreation, and inci- 

 dentally entertaining quite a number of 

 my friends, is located just above the 

 forks of the east branch of Little river, 

 on the timber property of the Little 

 River Lumber Company. It is about two miles farther up the 

 stream than my 1911 camp. The aneroid barometer indicates an 

 altitude above sea level of approximately 4,000 feet. The ther- 

 mometer shows a variation in temperature of from 75 degrees at 

 mid-day to 50 at midnight. The big spring, gushing from the 

 rocks a hundred feet above the camp, which is the purest, sweet- 

 est water imaginable, has a temperature of 34 degrees. 



My camp equipment this year is quite elaborate and includes 

 an 8x10 Amazon cook tent, in which, mounted on a rock founda- 

 tion, is a sheet iron camp stove, the remainder of the space be- 

 ing devoted to shelves for preparing meals, and for the storage of 

 the food that grows in tins in Tennessee. Two packing trunks con- 

 stitute receptacles for flour, sugar and other dry food. Over one 

 of the trunks is the bunk of the cook. All the cooking utensils 

 are of aluminum. 



Avery Gouge, a typical mountain lad, is cook and general 

 handy man about camp. While he might not be a cullinary star 

 in the Blackstone kitchen, he can discount any cook in that hotel 

 in keeping a camp-fire stacked with back-logs, and in choppiui? 

 wood. His hot biscuits and "frying cakes," his coffee and baked 



.WE COGnll.L A'SD 



beans leave nothing to be desired. 

 Two 10x12 regulation army tents, with flies, provide for both 



sleeping quarters and a place for the dining table in the event 



of rain. 

 Through the kindness of the Little River Lumber Company's 



logging contractors, each tent is floored with planed hemlock boards. 



I use the Gold Medal folding cots and chairs, manufactured at 

 Racine, Wis. The mattress bags are 

 made from khaki stuffed with tips of 

 the branches of spruce and hemlock. The 

 bedding is regulation seven pound army, 

 wool blankets. My guests this year are 

 even luxuriating with pillows, covered 

 with thin blue fabric cases. Oil heating 

 stoves afford means of warmth on rarely 

 necessary occasions, and in drying out 

 the tents in case of unexpected periods 

 of extremely wet weather. 



The tents are lined up on a side hill — 

 and side hills are no topographic excep- 

 tion in the Great Smokies — face a patch 

 of scarlet horse-mint blossoms, beyond 

 which are great piled-up masses of 

 laurel, now just coming into bloom. Be- 

 yond the laurel, three hundred feet from 

 camp, is the noisy left-hand prong of 

 the east fork of the river, tumbling down 

 its rock-strewn bed, and carrying con- 

 stant music with it. 



From the trail, a hundred feet up the 

 hill back of the camp, is a surpassing 

 view of Goshen Ridge, at the left of 

 which can be seen the deep valley of the 

 right-hand prong of the river. Away be- 

 yond, cloud enveloped more than half 

 the time, is the stupendous top of Cling- 

 man's Dome. It is one of the most en- 

 trancing views of the timber-clad 



III.S BE.\R DOG "JOHN" 



mountain land in the land. 



Surrounding the camp is a space of two or three acres devoid 

 of all but a few scattering trees, and is an exceptionally grassy 

 spot in this timber-covered region. The timber cutting of the lum- 

 ber company has extended up the mountain within a short dis- 

 tance of camp, but above it is absolutely virgin timber. The 

 timber close to camp consists largely of red oak, hard and soft 

 maple, buckeye, silver-bell tree, white ash, basswood, beech and 

 red birch. One-eighth of a mile below the camp stands the last 

 giant poplar up the mountain side, for, as is well known, poplar 

 "runs out" at about the 4,000 feet altitude in this latitude. 

 This poplar is an exceptionally fine tree, and is nineteen feet lu 

 circumference at breast height, and stands on the very rim of the 

 river bank, which, at this point rises more than a hundred feet 

 above the water. 



While the woods are full of a score of different kinds of 

 flowers, perhaps one of the most alluring attractions at Camp 

 Gibson is the birds. The real vocalists are the Wilson thrushes, 

 which wake us up every morning at a quarter of four o'clock. 



