A FIGHT TO THE DEATH. 



Both sides fiercely fought. 



—Henry /'/. 



WE are a few "city men" up here in the very heart 

 of the wilderness of Pike county, Pa., each man 

 expecting to catch his complement of thirt^'-five 

 lusty speckled trout, which is all that the rules of the 

 "Beaver Run Club," whose guests we are, will allow any 

 member to kill in any one season ( and the fish must be 

 over eight inches in length, to boot, or back they go into 

 the stream). 



Japan is said to be the home of the rhododendron, 

 and it is also said that the whole island kingdom is one 

 great bed of those gorgeously dressed flowers. Up here 

 in Pike county is the home of the mountain laurel, which 

 grows and thrives in wanton profusion everywhere about 

 us. It seems to grow equally well on the ridges, in 

 the thick cluster of the woods or down Ijy the edges 

 of the trout pond or its emptying stream; and, behold, 

 it is here in all its glory, and well worth a trip from 

 the heated city just to feast the eye upon its ravishing 

 mass of colors, as the bushes sway to the breeze. The 

 laurel is well backed up b}- great quantities of wild moun- 

 tain roses, now in full ])looni ; acres upon acres of black- 

 berry bushes, clothed with their white blossoms, and also 



