400 
FOREST AND STREAM 
tlie leader of the pack, has caught up with the fox, and find¬ 
ing he must die, Reynard turns and faces his relentless 
pursuers—a crowding mass of tumbling dags and confused 
noise of snapping, and the deed is done, the day is won. 
Major Bulled, throwing himself from his horse in their 
midst and plying his heavy whip, stops tho dogs from 
mangling the carcass, and lifting the body high over his 
head, gives a cheer so loud and triumphant that it echoes 
and re echoes, telling all thaL the hunt is ended after the 
fin st run on record. 
Thus the Major, whose brow was wreathed with many 
laurels, added another leaf to the chaplet, and as he rode 
homeward with the brush on his hat he never felt prouder, 
even when he wiped his sword after a dashing cavalry 
charge against the French in the far Canadas, or scattered 
the Indians by his well-timed advance on the shores of the 
Scioto. The chase being over, the huntsmen wended their 
way back to the rendezvous, the horns ail sounding the 
notes of triumph. They found the whole meet there, 
though many were sadiv bruised and battered. The par- 
Bon was in a pitiable plight. His rotund figure had many 
a wound, and his clerical suit was ruined forever. He was 
of course the recipient of many rough jokes, and Major 
Bulletl composed a quatrain on him, which tradition has 
handed down to us. The parson's style of riding was very 
peculiar- He wus a fat, piump man, but he w as quick to 
make up for lost ground, and lollow hard after the hounds; 
for so portly a figure he was a marvelous rider, and the 
Major’s verses struck him off exact!y:— 
“The person came next. For fat on tbe rib 
2fTo cluv er-ftd bullock could be sounder; 
A wonderful weig'nt, ala wonderfnl rate, 
He dew like a twenty-four pounder." 
After a eollaLion under the trees the party returned 
home. We may be sure that there was a banquet at Bel- 
voir—a sound of revelry by night, when Virginia’s chiv¬ 
alry had gathered; but there were no voluptuous glances, 
aud the lamps shone on brave men only; for there were no 
fair women present; all the belter if there had beeD, per¬ 
haps, for the cocked-hat gentry imbibed like fishes in those 
days, aud got drunk from principle. In fancy we can see 
them througing into the large dining-hall, which was all 
alight from a score of wax candles in massive silver can- 
dlesiieks, and Ibe glare of the huge fire touched the silver 
service witli a crimson tinge like that of a sunset sky. We 
can see, too, ihe guests at the rich supper, which, alter the 
fa igues au-l exeiiements of the day, they were in litlirg 
mood to enjoy, is one of the fair sex were present. It 
was a maxim of Epicurus himself, as well ns Lucullus, 
that a bai quet could never be eDjoyed if there were women 
at ihe table. A fiuediuner is loo serious a thing in life to 
be I rilled with, and a man owes a tribute to his digestion, 
witnoul whose perfect condition life becomes a burden. A 
man can’t play tbe agreeable to lea dames and enjoy his 
soups, bis roasts, and bis wines at one and the same time. 
There is a lime lor all things, and if ever there is a period 
when reason aud nature demand Iliac man shall be inde¬ 
pendent ol w oman, lhal period is the dinner hour. 
We can picture the brilliant company when George Ma¬ 
son, ihe piince uf good fellows, kept the table in a roar; 
we can see ihe towering form of ihe Uameron in the chair, 
and Geotge Wusliinglon sitting on his right hand, forget¬ 
ting his love’s mishaps, as he drains a huge draught lrorn 
the Fair tax pmioh-bow I; and it doubtless was a hue sight 
to see iliem all rise and touch their glasses and throw off 
their liquor lo a telling toast or taking sentiment. Of 
course iney drank to “sweetheart and lovers,” to the chase, 
to each oilier, au.l to the host. We may be certain that 
the circling bowl went round without any flinching. It 
was doubtless a pleasant sound 'o the ear—that clatter of 
hums, raiiie of crockery, clink of glass, popping of 
corks, confused mingling of voices—and when tbe cloth 
was removed aud the solid port and madeira brought out, 
theu the Tevelry began. With no fears of waiting wives 
Or stein old “governors,” the men and the youths drank 
deeply, the faces flushed to a deeper hue, the voices raised 
intone, audlhetiue na ures of the guests showed them 
selves. Steady old goers spoke of dashing runs and des¬ 
perate exploits; the statesman forgot his caution and re¬ 
vealed tlie secrets of his heart; the lawyer betrayed the 
mysteries of his court; the planter discussed the crops; the 
puisou, with bis rubicund nose all aflame, was arguing in a 
tniek voice the relative styles of female beauty with that 
rake, Major Bulletl. 1 have an old letter of the date of 
17(59, which is dingy with age, and so dilapidated as to be 
almost illegible. It is a copy of Major Bullett's drinking 
song, written by himself, in a very large, quaint andirreg 
nhu Uaudwriting. The Major bad a flue voice, and we 
can imagine him singing it in the great dining hall with a 
rousing chorus, sucli a chorus as can only”be had alter 
such a dinner. The song I copy literally:— 
Friends, why so drowsyl 1 
1 piiiiiee arouau Uiet\ 
Tho woods now rmg wiiu tho bound of the horn. 
Oh! Soiitnlib* shaking, 
Arise! awaken! 
Ihe dew chops tpaihlih*- and heralds the morn. 
Chorus—h'liendH, why so drowsy? etc. 
His mistress grieving, 
The liUutsinun leaving, 
Thio fo osts to rouiu; 
But ever returniug, 
Bis vt ami uosum burning, 
Hla ardor mo easing, he seeks his home. 
Chorus—^'rionds, why so drowsy? etc. 
Bis perils leLling, 
He eecks bis ioved dwelling, 
Anu friend* now dispelling, 
lie dies to her arms; 
"WiLh added grat es 
lirr love sheemoracea, 
And banishes sorrow in love’s alarms. 
thorns—Friends, why so drowsy? etc. 
1 have given as correct an account as the scanty mate¬ 
rial would admit, of the style of sporting of that day, aud 
I have portrayed Washington in an entirely different light 
from ihe rest of the scribulers In his youth George was 
a wild blade, a devout and constant lover of pretty women, 
blooded horses and alhlelio pastimes; he was noted for his 
strength, and was always ready to wrestle, to pitch the bar, 
or to iuu a race whh auyone. In his later life bis grand 
qualiiies displayed theui»elves, and he has so dazzled the 
ey es of posterity iliat they are taught to look up to him as 
something more Ilian human—a man who had not the pas¬ 
sion or vices of men, a being absolutely faultless. 1 have 
heard that the descendants of Washington have in their 
possession many of ilia letters written in early life, which 
they will not publish for fear it will mako the American 
people think less of him. I do not vouch for Ibis, but tell 
it to you as it was told tome. If they fear that the popu¬ 
lar idol will be lowered they can dismiss their fear, for the 
adoration of the people is like the feeling of tlie senti¬ 
mental Slerne, who cried over a dead ass‘and starved a 
living mother. So long as an unfinished monument to liis 
memory rears its unsightly shaft, so long will plain people 
thiuk that, lliat memory is but a mawkish sentimeut which 
is indulged in because it is cheap. The men of those days 
are long since dust, but many of them left names that will 
never die. Lord Fairfax always remained loyal to liis 
king, and he died in 1781. House, in his history, remarks: 
“Very soon after the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, when 
the news reached him he called hisservants to assist him to 
bed, observing, ’ll is time for me to die,’ and truly the no¬ 
ble, generous old man never left his room until carried to 
his tomb.” Major Bullett was killed, I believe, in Ihe 
Revolution, though I cannot obtain authentic information 
of his death. One of tlie most noted fox hunters in the 
whole country was John Edwards, who lived a few miles 
below Mount Vernon. He was a poor man, owniDg only 
a small farm and half a dozen negroes, but. he was such a 
thorough sportsman that he was cordially welcomed at 
every meet. Ho broke his neck while jumping a fence 
during a protracted fox hunt, aud the following epitaph 
was placed on his tombstone:— 
Here lies 
John Kihvabds, 
Who was unkennelled in Oct. 1728, 
nod was chased by 
Col. Death’s pack of bounds, 
who ran him to earth. 
After a long anti exciting chase 
or 40 yeat-B. 
Alex. Hunter. 
A FISHING EXCU RSION IN NEW BRUNS- 
o WICK. 
I N accordance with a promise of long standing to intro¬ 
duce a friend to the beatifies of the lakes in Charlotte 
County, New Brunswick, and the unrivalled trout fishing 
to be found there, we find ourselves in June ascending the 
path which leads to the Indian lodges, to engage the in¬ 
dispensable services of Sehatis. As we emerge from a 
little wood tbe Indian lodges open to view, and we are 
challenged by those ever-wary sentinels, the Indian dogs, 
which partake in many ways of the peculiarities of their 
masters, resist all our attempts at becoming friends, and 
retire barking and snarling as we advance. Numerous 
little dusky figures of Indiau children start up from behind 
bushes and stumps, where, unseen themselves, they had 
watched our apptoach, and dous and children in a mad 
scamper seek refuge in tlie lodges. Aroused by the tumult 
tlie Indian men and women begin to show themselves at 
the doors, and we see the well known form of Sebatis ad¬ 
vance to welcome us. Our errand is stated, his services 
and canoe are engaged, and arrangements completed to 
start the next moruing. 
The morning was cloudy, with a moderate breeze; after 
a few moments’ consultation, noiwithstanding Sebatis 
gave it as his opinion that we would have a rough time of 
it on the lake, as there was every prospect of the wind in¬ 
creasing, we determined to try it. So Sebatis, taking the 
canoe od liis back, started off through the woods for the 
shores of Lake Utopia, giving us as'much as we could do 
to keep up wtih him, although our loads of fishing rods, 
&c., were light in comparison to liis, and he never paused 
for rest until, having completed rite half mile between his 
lodge aDd the lake, he deposited the canoe on the beach, 
and when we came up had lit and was puffing away at that 
never-failing solace, his pipe. We were not longin making 
tue discovery that what had only appeared in “the shelter 
of the woods to be a slight breeze proved to be a brisk 
ale on the water. Sebatis launched tlie canoe, and, pad- 
le in hand, stepped lightly in, as only an Indian can; and 
the next moment, impelled by his sturdy strokes, we were 
bounding merrily over the waves. The sky was darkening 
onmiously, and the wind steadily increasing as we paddled 
along for four miles under the lee of the shore, until we 
reached Birch Point. Here we had to cross th,a lake, and 
there was no concealing the fact that we were fairly in for 
a wet time of It. If we had any doubts on the subject 
they were instantly dispelled by the altitude of Sebatis, 
who, throwing his hat iuto llie bottom of the canoe and 
brushing the long black hair from liis face, seemed bracing 
all his nerves for the coming struggle. And now as we 
left tlie shelter of the shore we got the full force of the 
gale, and our canoe went dashing madly over tlie waves. 
Presently we felt our frail bark quiver under us, and with 
the water trickling down our backs we realized the fact 
that we had shipped our first sea. As it is totally inadmiss¬ 
ible to ship waLer in a canoe on account of the difficulty of 
baling, Sebatis now changed his tactics, and instead of 
meeting the waves gradually allowed the canoe to wear off 
into Ihe trough as they passed. Only the most consum¬ 
mate skill on his part could have effected this witU safety, 
and I believe had any white man attempted the like exploit 
we should have been instantly swamped. It was uow 
blowing a whole gale of wind, and the sky was dark us 
midnight, except where the sun ever and anon broke 
through the clouds, revealing the rugged forms of the Red 
Rock Mountains. For an instant the sunlight and shadows. 
play at hide and seek, and then all is gloom again. Seba¬ 
tis' powers are evidently taxed to their utmost, and full 
well we know what one false stroke of his paddle would 
do; we are powerless lo aid him; all the assistance we can 
give is to bit perfectly still, and this we require no bidding 
to do. As a wave larger than its predecessors approaches 
bis eagle eye brightens, and a shade of anxiety passes 
over his otherwise imperturbable lace. The wave passes 
and with it his anxious look; and this impersonificalion of 
coolness and intrepidity paddles along, looking positively 
indifferent. A little island lies in our track; Sebatis eyes 
it momentarily as if he meditated landing, but the surf, 
dashing high on the rocky shore, precludes any such idea, 
and he keeps steadily on bis course. Now the distant 
rumbling of thunder is heard, increasing in volume as it 
appioaches; breaking into loud crashes overhead, reverberat¬ 
ing among the hills and passing away in low mtitterings. 
A few large drops, then down comes the rain, a perfect 
deluge, and in a twinkling we are drenched to the skin. 
Flash upon flash of vivid lightning, majestic rolls of 
thunder, and we are in the very midst of a summer storm. 
A few more strokes of the paddle and we near the shore. 
But where to land? Where iu ail that boiling surf can we 
find a Bpot to beach our light canoe? Sebatis answers our 
lookB by pointing the cunoe for a bridge which appears in 
sight as we round tlie point, and in u few moments we 
shoot under it, emetge into tho comparatively calm waters 
of Trout Brook, and safely land, verifying in our persons 
the old adage that speaks of fisherman's luck, “a wet 
jacket and a hungry sioinuch.” 
The canoe is unpacked, and Sebatis proceeds to make a 
fire. With a lew blows of bis axe lie knocks the wet baric 
off an old pine log, and procures a plentiful supply of fuel 
dry as tinder, and we arc soon drying our soaking garments 
before a roaring fire, while Sebatis prepares the lunch, of 
which we are in sorty need. In an hour or so the rain 
ceases, the sun shines out bright and warm; and as we 
must lose no time we pack Ihe canoe aud continue our 
voyage up Trout Brook. Pleasantly we glide along the 
placid stream, through the reeds and lilies, aud uDtler 
broad spreading brandies of tlie silver birch; in places the 
lurches meet overhead, and entwining their brandies lov¬ 
ingly form green arches, tinder which we pass. Now and 
then as we paddle through the long rends, black ducks 
startled from their summer haunts rise with noisy quack¬ 
ing and seek safety in flight. As we watch them we think 
with pleasure of September when wit.li trusty double barrel 
and our good retriever we sliali bag the flappers now all 
unconscious in their parent nest. ‘With regret, we leave Ihe 
lovely brook, and shoot into the waters of Trout Lake, on 
tlie opposite shore of which we land on a suud bar, and 
put out rods to try our luck with the speckled trout. We 
take up our position in the canoe opposite the inlet to the 
lakes Sebatis sinks a pole into tlie stunt to bold on by and lo 
prevent the canoe from drifting, aftevafew casts a fish 
is struck and landed; and uow I tie trout are breaking in all 
directions, and as last as our flies touch the water they are 
seized by two and often three tisb at a. lime. The trout are 
not large, averaging about half a pouud; they'are the trout 
which belong to the lake. Later iu tlie season (September 
or October) tne large trout, often weighing four pounds 
and upwards, run up iuto the lake, ttud are taken in large 
numbers with .tbe fly. Grasshoppers are used witli killing 
effect by the country people. Alter some excellent sport 
With the small fry, and having filled our baskets, we put 
our rods up and bid farewell to trout lake. We make a 
portage of half a mile over a hill, aud launch our canoe iu 
MillLake. As we paddle up to Ihe mouth of the inlet our 
attention is attracted by the strange spectacle presented by 
the reeds on the margin; caeli reed appears to be festooned 
With silver tinsel, which quivers ahd flushes in the bright 
sunlight. Curious to solve the mystery we land, ahd Jlud 
that tlie effect is produced by dragon flies just butstiug 
from the chrysalis which is attached to the reeds; amt their 
wings fluttering aud drying in the sun as they became de¬ 
tached produces the effect which we witness. Every 
instant dozens are freed and fly off. Countless numbers 
fall on the surface of the lake, but I do not notice that 
any trout rose at them. 
We land again at the favorite fishing place, a deep hole 
at the mouth of the inlet, put out our roas and begiu cast¬ 
ing, at first without effect; hilt, before long we fiuve good 
sport for about twenty minutes, wlimi the lisli suddenly 
leave off-rising. In a short time, however, the trout begin 
to show themselves again, and we resume our sport. Sale 
by side we throw our lines, aud laud our fish with varying 
luck until, fairly surfeited with our success, we t ry enough, 
and count and admire our fish. As the day is growing 
late we start through the woods for Crazy Lake, where wc 
are to camp for tlie night. On our way we surprise an old 
hen goose and brood, title, with trailing wings and utter¬ 
ing a plaintive warning cry to her young ones, entices us 
to follow her, almost permitting us to put our hands on 
her. In the meantime the little tellows scamper <.IT in all 
directions, and assured of their safely she secures her own. 
As we have had a pro ty hard day ot it we are not sorry 
when the two-mile tramp is over and we arrive at Crazy 
Lake; and Sebatis seems of alike mind as he drops the 
canoe with a grunt, and proceeds to make a bough camp 
and prepare our dinuer. The trout prove excellent, tio 
do our appetites. But with the night come the only tor¬ 
ments to our otherwise period cujoymeul, black flies, 
mosquitoes and midges, tbe latter tlie grcaicst torments of 
all. tio small as to be almost Imperceptible, they sting 
most villainously, creeping up your nose, into your eyes 
and ears, and almost driving you demented. The Indiaus 
not inaptly call them “feel ’um no see 'urns.” They have 
not troubled us much in the day, but now seem bent upon 
making up for lost time. Wo slay them by thousands, but 
only powr encourager lea auties, for their pJace is instantly 
tilled by countless battalions. Our weariness proviug supe¬ 
rior to the torment, however, we,finally get to sleep. 
Waking early Sebatis has our breakfast ready; and that 
over we start to try our luck in Crazy Lake. Tho trout 
in the lake arc large, and have licen taken of five pounds 
and a half weight. As we can not both fislr from the 
canoe we desire tiebatis to make a raft for us. He soon 
procures the number of logs necessary for the purpose, 
and lashes them firmly together with withes, and places 
over all some large sheets of bark peeled from spruce 
trees. Leaving Sebatis to his own devices wc pole off into 
the l ike, lake up a favorable position, aud begiu to east. 
Faithfully we whip the water for half an hour without 
getting a rise; then up polo aud off to another position. 
Ail in vain we change our casts uud offer the most tempt¬ 
ing lures our fly-books afford. The trout, proverbially shy 
iu this lake, will not deigu to move, and at last, we give it 
up and pole our raft to an old pine log which lies half in 
the water and presents a good chance for us to laud. We 
clamber up the old pine, aud seating ourselves on the trunk 
with our backs to the wa'er, light our pipes and console 
ourselves with the idea that- our finny friends will rise by- 
aml-by, as the sky js getting cloudy and a slight breeze is 
springing ux>. Even while we speak a heavy splash is 
heard in the lake, and turning round quickly we see tlie 
large circles in the water expanding towards the shore, 
marking the spot where the trout rose. As wo pole to 
land we notice that the pole, after sinking through a 
tangled bed of weeds about four feet, under water, biought 
up iu hard gravel. A trout hud evidently beeti routed out 
of this haunt by our poling. Hastily we get down lo our 
raft, aud silently push off and anchor near the spot where 
the trout broke. At the very first cast a heavy fish is 
struck. And now we are in onr glory. Whiz! go the 
reels as the trout bolt for deep water. Gradually we reel 
them up, and ply them with point and butt. With the 
greatest difficulty and risk to our rods wc prevent their 
dashing under the raft in their mad efforts to gel. free, At 
length the fish become more shy, and presently few ure 
moving. We are nothing k>ilr to leave off, as'we have 
now over three dozen trout, few of them under one pound 
in weight, tio we up pole, push ushore, laud, and exhibit 
