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FOREST AND STREAM 



kept submerged. When live ballast is not to be bad sand 

 bags are used. They are laid upon the windward wash- 

 board, and, overhanging slightly at each end, they remain 

 firm in position. The helmsman also throws his weight on 

 the windward side, and thus ballasted the canoe will carry 

 all sail when larger craft find. it necessary to reef. But it, 

 sometimes blows too hard for the canoe, and then a shelter 

 is sought, the sail furled, the mast unshipped, and the an- 

 chor thrown out. In the event of a sudden squall, when 

 even a second's delay is dangerous, mast and sheet are 

 tossed overboard, and the sheet, being made fast aft, holds, 

 them alongside until the fury of the storm is spent, when 

 sail is set again. There is no way of reefing the canoe's 

 sails, but when the foresail cannot be carried the mast is 

 unshipped and the mainmast stepped in its place. After 

 spending two months and a half in these canoes, having 

 previously had much experience in yachting, in large craft 

 and small, I can testify to their remarkable speed, strength 

 / and weatherly qualities. With reasonable care, protection 

 from worms being most important, it is obvious they must 

 last a lifetime, while no other craft is so well calculated to 

 withstand the wear and tear of oystering. As for speed, 

 I made the trip from Piney Point to Marshall's, a distance 

 of fully two miles and a half, in fifteen minutes— that is to 

 say, it was fifteen minutes from the time we cast off from 

 Piney Point wharf until we passed the end of Marshall's 

 wharf. It took one minute more to round up and land 

 upon the wharf. The canoe was of the smallest class, and 

 carried but a single sail. On this occasion I had one pas- 

 senger, and he was kept busy bailing until we passed from 

 the Potomac, through the Straits, into the St. George's 

 river. On a straight course, and for shorter distances, even 

 better time has been made. I write only of what I know, 

 but may mention that aparty of three claimed to have 

 sailed in a canoe from Point Lookout to Marshall's, distance 

 fifteen miles, in one hour and ten minutes. It was blow- 

 ing a gale at the time, but it is incredible that a small 

 canoe, with a single sail, could have been driven through 

 the water at that rate of speed. Those who choose to be- 

 lieve the statement — I do not — can do so. 



Staunch and safe as are the canoes when manned by ex- 

 perienced hands, there must necessarily be times of peril 

 and hairbreadth escapes when one tempts the elements 

 daily and nightly. Of these I had full share during my 

 sojourn at Marshall's, for I almost lived in my little canoe, 

 the "Bluebird," which, though the smallest of the fleet, 

 was more than a match for the largest. She carried her 

 canvas nobly, too, but a wetter craft in a gale or rough 

 water it would be hard to find. She was so sharp forward 

 that she would bury her bow under and take in water by 

 the bucketful, and keep one man bailing constantly. De- 

 spite this well-known fact, T never wanted for passengers 

 in the roughest of weather, even among the ladies. Braver 

 women I never met— they put even the men to the blush. 

 One dark night I started homeward from Piney Point with 

 two passengers, husband and wife. The Potomac was un- 

 usually rough, the wind blowing half a gale, and I began 

 to fear 'for the nerves of my passengers. Three canoes had 

 started before us, the first having been gone at least ten 

 minutes, and as the "Bluebird" shot out from the wharf, 

 and, feeling the full force of the wind and sea, dipped 

 her 'lee washboard under and scooped up the water with 

 her bow, I had little hopes of overtaking them. The water 

 was soon over our ankles, but it was not safe to change posi- 

 tion to use the bailer, and so it was allowed to swash back- 

 ward and forward. We were enveloped all the time in 

 showers of spray, and my lady passenger, being in an ex- 

 posed position, occasionlly was struck by a sea, drench hig- 

 her from head to foot. This she did not seem to mind in 

 the least, and when near the mouth of the Straits I caught 

 sight of' a sail to leeward and exclaimed, ' T believe we 

 shall beat them after all," she burst forth with "Beat them, 

 beat them; I don't care if I get wet through, and every- 

 thing I have on is spoiled, if you will Only beat' them." 

 Of course I did my best. The canoe to leeward was the 

 "Pocomoke." She was soon disposed of, and on entering 

 the St. George's the "George Washington" was overhauled 

 and passed as if she had been anchored. When we reached 

 the wharf the "Gibson," which left some time after the 

 "Pocomoke". and George Washington," but two or three 

 minutes before the "Bluebird," had just arrived, so that in 

 time we beat the fleet, and my lady passenger was wet to 

 the skin, but happy. 



Later in the season I made a more eventful trip. The R. 

 family were to take the steamer one Friday night for Wash- 

 ington, and I had promised to take them over to Piney 

 Point in the "Bluebird. " The steamer was due at the Point 

 at midnight, so that it was not necessary to leave Marshall's 

 before ten o'clock, or even later; but at dark the weather 

 became very threatening, and everybody predicted a severe 

 storm. I therefore advised Mr. R to send his wife and 

 children in one of the larger boats, or by wagon, bujf said I 

 should make the trip myself and would take a passenger or 

 two provided they had nerve and could swim. Iliad got 

 up sail and was laying alongside the wharf awaiting the 

 movements of the other canoes when Mr. R. came down 

 and beo-an putting his family on board. I did not like the 

 responsibility thus thrust upon me, but was glad of such 

 pleasant company. 1 called up a young man whom 1 knew 

 to be an expert swimmer to accompany me, and then push- 

 ed off with Mrs. R. and two children. It was plain sailing 

 enough down to the Straits, though the fitful gusts which 

 now and then struck the sail gave warning of what was to 

 come From the lee side of the Straits it was possible to 

 make Piney Point wharf with the sail trimmed flat; but as 

 this course was near the shore, where the water was roughest ; 



and as I feared that "Bluebird" could not carry her canvas 

 if close on the wind, I tacked and made the weather side of 

 the Straits, and being there sheltered by St. George's Island 

 trimmed my sail aft, and headed a long way above my 

 point of destination. By this means we were enabled to 

 make the trip without a wetting or serious danger, for when 

 we lost the shelter of the island we were so far to windward 

 that I could ease off sheet gradually, as the wind increased, 

 and when we finally headed direct for the warf, we had the 

 wind at our stern. The waves were rolling high, and as 

 the spray flew ten or twelve feet up the shore, it was impos- 

 sible to land on the beach, as we had intended, so we made 

 fast to the wharf, the cap of which was above our heads r it 

 being low tide, and as there were no steps the passengers had 

 to be lifted and pulled up bodily while the canoe was jump- 

 ing about in the liveliest possible manner. However, the 

 debarkation was accomplished, and there we stood anxiously 

 upon the warf with eyes piercing the gloom for a glimpse 

 of the boats that started after us. Soon the sound of voices 

 was heard, but it was not until some time that we discover- 

 ed a boat, which proved to be the "Aurelia," a flat-bot- 

 tomed, sharp-bowed craft, on the shore a short distance 

 below. Before she could be pushed off her passengers, 

 mostly ladies, were thoroughly drenched with the spray 

 that broke over her. As her sail filled and she stood off 

 shore she was lost to sight; and mind, too, for just then the 

 "Pocomoke" hove in sight and came under the lee of the 

 wharf. Now we began to feel anxious about the "Aurelia" 

 and her precious freight. Minute after minute passed, and 

 she did not appear, but as we were about to send the "Po- 

 comoke" to the rescue, she bore in sight, and her demoralized 

 passengers were soon though not without difficulty, landed 

 upon the pier. It seems that while ashore her center-board 

 was raised, and left up, and the fact was not discovered 

 until the boat had drifted a long distance to leeward. 



The wind had been steadily increasing all this time, and 

 as we looked out over the troubled waters of the Potomac 

 for the steamer's lights, the prospect for the trip home ap- 

 peared anything but favorable. At half-past twelve the 

 steamer having come and gone, and our friends departed 

 in her, preparations were made for returning to Marshall's. 

 The step which held the Aurelia's mast having worked 

 loose she was declared unseaworthy and it was decided to 

 leave her alongside the wharf . This left only the "Poco- 

 moke," and "Bluebird" available. As skipper of the latter, 

 I proposed to take one gentleman with me. provided he 

 could swim. The only volunteer I had was a lady, who 

 quite insisted on going, but whom I positively refused to 

 expose to the dangers of such a trip in so small a craft. 

 The proprietor of the Piney Point Hotel, and some of his 

 guests, did all in their power to prevent any one of us from 

 facing the storm. I have several times mentioned a half 

 a gale of wind, but this was a full-fledged gale, with anight 

 dark as pitch, and waves robing as I had never seen them 

 on the Potomac. However, the result of it all was that I 

 started oil first, alone, in the "Bluebird," carrying the "Po- 

 comoke.V mainsail, in place of my own mast and sail, 

 which were laid inboard. Two ladies and one gentleman 

 were to come after in the "Pocomoke," with Jim Middle- 

 ton, a trusty colored man, at the helm, and the remainder 

 of the party— including several gentlemen, to their shame 

 be it said— were packed into a two-seated wagon for an 

 overland trip. So far as my personal experiences are con- 

 cerned I never faced a wilder night, The "Bluebird" car- 

 ried her canvas well enough, but the waves caught her up 

 and tossed her about as though she were an egg shell, the 

 rudder having no hold at times; and then the spray, not to 

 mention the buckets full of brine which occasionally struck 

 me full in the face, so blinded me that all I could do was 

 to cling with one hand to the washboard, the other grasp- 

 ing the tiller, and let her go. So violent was the motion 

 that had I not held on I should certainly have gone over- 

 board, and I expected every moment the canoe would go 

 bottom up. It was like being tossed in a blanket. Fortu- 

 nately the wind held so that I could lay the course for the 

 Straits, but I had to sail it from instinct, there being no 

 land-mark, visible to guide me. When I did enter the 

 Straits they were white with foaming breakers from shore 

 to shore. Through there, with the wind dead-aft, the 

 "Bluebird" flew with the speed of a race-horse, and once 

 more in the placid waters of the St. George's I breathed free- 

 ly. I was wet to the skin from head to foot, and the canoe 

 was full of water to within three inches of the gunwale, 

 but I had braved the severest storm of the season, learned 

 what a canoe can do, and was happy. The "Pocomoke" 

 arrived not long after me, her passengers dripping but better 

 satisfied with themselves than were those who had shown 

 the white feather and taken to the wagon. I mention these 

 incidents to show that canoeing on the Potomac is not all 

 fair weather sailing; and with regard to the frequent use of 

 the personal pronoun I may say that I prefer to write of 

 what I know rather than of what I hear. Others may have 

 had even more eventful canoe voyages, in which case I hope 

 they will narrate them for the entertainment of the readers 

 of Forest and Stream, 



A word or two as to the cost of canoes. A two-masted, 

 centre-board canoe, fully equipped may be bought for from 

 $75 to $125. The price, of course, depends upon age, con- 

 dition, etc., as with other craft. St. Mary's County, Mary- 

 land, is said to own the fastest and handsomest canoes, but 

 strange to say they are mostly built on the Virginia shore, 

 a short distance above Norfolk. They may be bought from 

 the yards there, the hulls alone, unpainted, for $20 or $30. 



In conclusion let me commend the St. George's Hotel, 

 Piney Point, St. Marys Co., Md., to sportsmen who may 

 conclude to visit the lower Potomac. Terms are moderate, 



and R. J. Marshall, the proprietor, is a whole-souled fellow . 

 The steamer Georgianna, leaving Baltimore and Washing- 

 ton once a week, lands passengers at Marshall's wharf. 



Charles A. Pilsbtjry. 



SPORT ALONGTHE NORTHERN PACIFIC. 



, ■ -♦ 



^ Brainard, Minn., September 23, 1873, 



Editor, Forest and Stream : — 



The great enterprise of the day in this far-away country 

 the Northern Pacific Railroad, its princely laud grant, its 

 miles and miles of garden-like prairie, its leagues and 

 leagues of pine forest, its mines of gold, silver, and coal 

 beyond the Missouri, its (even now) enormous carrying 

 trade, its gold bearing lands, &c, &c, have been adver- 

 tised far and wide, and now something should be said re- 

 garding it from a sportsman's point of view. 



We have in quest of sport with the rifle and the rod 

 roamed over a vast stretch of country, from the Thousand 

 Islands to the gulf of St. Lawrence; have put our line in 

 in nearly every lake and stream in the Adirondacks from 

 the base of the lonely Mt. Seward, to Lou Fuller's home- 

 like place on ever-to-be-remembered Meacham lake; have 

 still-hunted the deer, and followed the lordly moose am- 

 the forests of the upper Ottawa and Covlonge; but we. 

 never have had better or more diversified sport, than here 

 along the line of the Northern Pacific Railroad, during die 

 last three years. Let us take the route from St. Paul in 

 the morning; a few hours ride brings you to the Northern 

 Pacific Railroad Junction; a few miles from here occurs the 

 first lake. Island lake, two bodies of water, full of i 

 bass, pike, perch, and pickerel, and where the lakes join at 

 the south end, is a large field of wild rice, a splendid place 

 to shoot ducks as they ^ fly oack and forth. Stopping • 

 Withington station, a half mile walk takes us to Serpent la! e, 

 the lake of all others in the country, for the finest game 

 we have, the black bass. This lovely lake two years ago 

 was almost unknown to the white man; its cold cr 

 waters had never known the touch of the keel of any crail 

 save the bark canoe of the Chippewa; the writer and a friend 

 put the first row-boat in the lake, and in one short happ; 

 afternoon caught one hundred and seventy-eight has, 

 and two maskalonge, with which we made glad the heart-- 

 of our friends who were too busy " to go a-fishing." 



These uneducated fish will bite ravenously at anything, 

 a spoon, a red rag, a piece of pork, or perch, any bait in 

 fact, but the way to take them and get the most fan out of 

 it, is with light trout tackle, a long leader with two or 

 three red ibis flies. Late in the afternoon, towards dark, a 

 large white fly will bring them springing out of the water, 

 reminding the angler of past days, when he threw his fly 

 for speckled trout at Racquette Falls, or Meacham outlet, 

 in the Adirondacks., These fish weigh from one to six pounds, 

 and when a couple of four pounders gat hooked the fisher- 

 man must have his wits about him if he does not wish to loose 

 his flies and leader, or have his rod broken. To stand in 

 the bow of a steady boat, well equipped with light strong 

 tackle, have your paddler gently send the boat around the 

 gravelly shores in and out of the deep bays, over the stony 

 rifts, and hook a black bass every few moments is well 

 worth a trip to this country to enjoy. 



.Crossing over the Serpent to Agate lake, a forty rod 

 carry (stopping on the way to look at, the sugar works of 

 the Indians, and may be to air our knowledge of the Chip- 

 pewa language with some of the smoked Americans, we 

 are sure to meet), brings us to a small bowl-shaped pond, 

 very deep and containing fish very similar in quality and 

 kind to those in the Serpent lake. It derives its name from 

 the quantity of agates and cornelians found among the 

 pebbles on its shores. A half mile carry from here brings 

 us to Rabbit lake, a large body of water, very fishy, the 

 outlet ten miles long. A sluggish stream winding through 

 rice fields, affording good duck shooting, brings us to the 

 Mississippi river, fifteen miles from Brainard, the young 

 and prosperous city of the Pines, the western headquarters 

 of the Northern Pacific Railroad Company. West from 

 Brainard twelve miles, is lake Sullivan; named one joyous 

 afternoon a year ago, in honor of Superintendent John H. 

 Sullivan, formerly of the Hannibal and St. Joseph and 

 other south western roads. Sullivan lake resembles Ser- 

 pent lake in its general outlines, wooded shores and stony 

 banks: and the fishing is equally good. 



A delightful trip is to goto Aitken, twenty-eight m 

 east, launch your bark canoe on Mud river, following that 

 crooked stream a mile, enter the Mississippi river, and 

 come down stream a hundred miles to this point, getting 

 fish, duck, grouse, and perhaps a shot at a deer or bear. 



West from here to the Mississippi river, the country at 

 this time is alive with game, pin-tail, pinnated and ruffed 

 grouse, snipe, plover, rail, and ducks of all kinds in count- 

 less thousands. At Yargo and Moosehead, on the Red 

 river, there are good hotel accommodations and game "till 

 you can't rest.'" 



Parties coming here should make Brainard their head- 

 quarters for fishing operations, catch bass and maskinon'j 

 till they are tired, take the steamer Pokegoma and ascend 

 the Mississippi river four hundred miles into the wilderness, 

 look the country over, and then "go west," with their 

 breechloaders into the first hunting country of the Stam. 

 Brainard is situated on a high level plateau of 'ground Um- 

 bered heavily with pines for miles around, thus being shel- 

 tered from the cold winds of winter, and singularly ex- 

 empt at all times from sickness of any kind. Invalids who 

 have been here, particularly those suffering from lung dis- 

 ease, have been materially benefited, and if not too far 

 gone, if they will come here, take care of themselves, "live 

 cleanly and eschew sack," they will renew their "lease of 



