FOREST AND STREAM. 



237 



mistake was made in placing the upper stake boat for the 

 University Crew, and they were compelled to row nearly 

 3f miles. '76, won the race. Time, 24m. 19sec. Univer- 

 sity second. Time, 24m. 57sec. '75 last. Time, 27m. 36 

 sec. We have recently purchased from Yale two six-oared 

 shells, one double shell and two single shells. Our annual 

 regatta next June promises to be one of interest. 



Soweti. 



A single scull race for the Southworth Cup, worth $300, 

 was the second, there being five contestants. This was the 

 most exciting of all, owing to the honor attached to the 

 * winning of this beautiful and valuable prize, which was 

 won by Cook '76, in 15 minutes 29£ seconds, over a two- 

 mile course with turn. The next struggle was the barge 

 race, in which were four entries, viz. : '74, '75, '77 and '76 

 of the Scientific Department. This was a fine race, and 

 won by '76, S. S. S., in 13 minutes 33 seconds, two miles 

 with turn. 



The last race of the day was between the six-oared shell 

 crews of '74 and '67, which afforded a splendid opportu- 

 nity to test our new stroke. The '74 crew, on a general 

 $■ average, was older, heavier and stronger than '76 crew. 



The crew of '74 had rowed together several weeks while 

 '76 had had only two days, and this taken up by coaching. 

 The two boats were started, '74s taking a good lead on 

 their superior strength; but they were gradually gained on, 

 quietly passed and easily defeated in 19 minutes 23£ sec- 

 onds, over 19 minutes 43£ seconds. 



I will just add a list of all the different times of the 

 crews : 



Shell Race, Russell's and Hopkins. — Prizes, — Six badges, 

 value, $60. 



Single Scull Race— R. J. Cook, '76, 15m. 29£s. W. C. 

 Hall, S. S. S., '75, 15m. 18±s. A. Wilcox, '73, 15m. 33is. 

 W. Martin, '75, 16m. 55|s, J. A. Vernon, S. S. S., '75, 

 17m. 17is. 



Barge Race— Time— '74, 14m. 24f ; '75, 13m. 42s. ; '76, 

 S. S. S., 13m. 33s. ; '77, 14m. 36fs. 



Shell Race— '74, 19m. 43i ; '76, 19m. 23±s. 



Prize for the single Scull Race, Southworth Cup, 

 worth $300. 



Prizes for Barge Race, six silver goblets. 



Prizes for Shell Race of '74 and '76, six gold badges. 

 Yours truly, R. J. Elay. 



— Speaking of the next annual College regatta, the 

 Amherst Student says : — 



' ' We begin to look forward to the races of the coming 

 year. What are the prospects of a crew? Have we men 

 that are, or will make first-class oarsmen? And how are 

 finances? are questions which arise in Colleges, which 

 have, and have not sent crews to Springfield. But these 

 questions cannot be definitely answered, until the Regatta 

 Association has held its convention, and announced its rul- 

 ing, as to who are eligible for a college crew, and determine 

 the place where the next regatta will be held. One or more 

 of these points are of vital importance, to every College, and 

 they are not decided until about three months before the 

 regatta. It is reasonable to suppose that every College 

 would like to be represented at the annual College Regatta, 

 and that they may be well represented it is necessary to 

 commence early, and have men training long beforehand; 

 but no man will give up his time to exercising when it is 

 very uncertain whether he will be allowed to row, regard- 

 less of his capabilities. Some Colleges, doubtless, could 

 send a first-class crew, if they were allowed to select their 

 men indiscriminately from all the under-graduate depart- 

 ments; but would prefer not to send any, rather than a poor 

 one, which would be their best, picked from one depart- 

 ment. Again ten men may have worked steadily in the 

 gymnasium for six months, and then when the place for the 

 regatta is fixed upon, it is so far away, that the expense of 

 sending a crew will be too great. All trouble of this sort 

 could easily be avoided, were the Convention held in the 

 fall. Sometime in November, would be early enough, and 

 by that time Colleges will know where their strength lies, 

 and how they want matters arranged, so that everything 

 could be settled then, as well as six months later, and it 

 would be a great advantage in many ways. As most Col- 

 leges have a short recess m the latter part of November, a 

 Convention could be held then, and everything within its 

 province settled at that time. As Springfield is the most 

 central point, it would be the best place to hold a Conven- 

 tion. We hope other Colleges will agree with us, that this 

 change is desirable, and aid in carrying it into effect." 



— The " Halifax Rowing Club " has just been organized 

 at Halifax, Nova Scotia, Chas. F. Vose, President, Peter 

 Hogan, Treasurer, Will Craigen, Secretary. 



THE RED RIVER RAFT. 



THERE is now a certain prospect that the great raft, 

 which has been an obstruction in the Red River, in 

 Louisiana, ever since the advent of white men in this coun- 

 try, will soon be removed, and that navigation will be 

 opened from Shreveport, La., to Jefferson, Texas. The 

 history of the raft and the attempts to remove it is exceed- 

 ingly interesting. In 1805 the obstruction of logs reached 

 one hundred miles. Since that time rafts have formed at 

 various points in the river near .Shreveport. One of these 

 was removed by Captain Shreve in 1830, by the help of a 

 Congressional appropriation, and another between 1840 and 

 1844, under a government contract by General Williamson. 

 In 1851 the raft region extended only twelve miles, and at 

 that time Captain Fuller, aided by a Congressional appro- 

 priation of $150,000, attempted to remove it. At the end 

 of two years, however, the appropriation had been ex- 

 hausted and nothing accomplished, and the work being 

 abandoned the obstruction began to increase. The present 

 raft region extends thirty-five miles, from a point forty 

 miles above Shreveport to the Arkansas State line, and 

 contained, before the present work commenced, nearly fifty 

 rafts, from one-eighth of a mile to a mile in length, and oc- 

 cupying the entire width of the river, navigation only be- 

 ing accomplished through the bayous around the raft, but 

 m these were only available at very high water navigation 



was insignificant. In 1871 the attention of the Engineer 

 ing Department was again directed to this work, and an 

 appropriation of $10,000 having been made by Congress, 

 the work of preliminary surveying was intrusted to Lieu- 

 tenant Woodruff, who completed it in 1872, and submitted 

 plans and specifications for the removal of the raft, where- 

 upon an appropriation of $150,000 was made. The plans 

 were accepted, and Lieutenant Woodruff reached the raft 

 region in January last with a snag-boat, two crane-boats, 

 and all the requisite machinery for his work. The follow- 

 ing description shows the difficulties to be overcome: — 



Logs, roots, and snags of every description had been 

 crowded and jammed into a tangled mass, becoming more 

 compact each year as the pressure from above increased. 

 Annual freshets had brought down mud and deposited it in 

 and over this mass until in places the raft itself had become 

 entirely covered with earth, small islands, or "tow-heads," 

 thus being formed. Upon these tow-heads were growing 

 trees, usually willows, three feet and more in circumfer- 

 ence. 



In addition to the removals of logs by sawing and cut- 

 ting, blasting powder was used, but it did not prove of any 

 use. Dynamite was then tried, but failed, refusing to ex- 

 plode even with an electrical exploder. At last nitro-gly- 

 cerine was brought into use, and it never failed to do its 

 work thoroughly. All that remains to be done now is the 

 blowing out of some tow-heads and improving certain 

 points in the channel, which will be accomplished in a few 

 weeks. The obstruction of centuries will then have been 

 removed by the skill and perseverance of Lieutenant Wood- 

 ruff. The saddest part of the record of this great work is 

 that Lieutenant Woodruff has not lived to finish it, having 

 died of yellow fever at Shreveport October 1st. — Chicago 

 Tribune. 



X 



A BUFFALO FIGHT. 



THE challenger advanced from the herd to within some 

 four feet, getting angrier and angrier as he came. 

 Suddenly there was a crash that had in it something Ho- 

 meric. One rattling onset of that kind leaves one In no 

 doubt as to why the short stout horns of the buffaloes have 

 a splintered appearance at the apices. Then there was a 

 long,steady push, in which every tendon of the huge bodies 

 of the buffaloes was strained to the utmost. Then there 

 was a strategic easing off, then a sudden gladiatorial thrust 

 which pressed the huge heads to the ground in an even bal- 

 ance of strength. Neither beast dared relax a muscle or 

 retreat an inch, for fear of that fatal charge upon the flank, 

 or that dangerous twist of the neck, which means defeat. 



A momentary relaxation of the tremendous strain only 

 resulted in the shaggy heads coming together again with a 

 dull thump, and a renewal of the dogged pushing which 

 might have moved a freight train. It was a matter of 

 lungs and endurance, and the white froth began to drop in 

 long, tenacious strings from their lips, and the red eyes to 

 glare dimly through what seemed clots of blood. I could 

 hear the labored breathing where I lay, and see the tendons 

 stand out across the thighs and along the thick necks. 

 But this dead set of strength could not last always. Every 

 moment of time was telling disastrously upon the shorter 

 wind and decaying strength of the old crusader, who still 

 fought for the loves of his youth. His foot slipped, and 

 the intelligence of this slight, disaster seemed to reach his 

 antagonist quicker than a flash of light. No gladiator ever 

 used his advantage more suddenly. There was a huge 

 lunge, a sound of horns slipping from each other, a spring 

 forward and the horn of the younger bull had made a 

 raking upward stroke through his antagonist's flank. The 

 fight now became brisk. Again and again the old one 

 turned and tried to make the old stand of head to head, and 

 as often his more active antagonist caught him behind the 

 shoulder. With the red agony of defeat in his eye, and the 

 blood trickling from the long wound in his flanks, he still 

 refused to be conquered. With failing strength and limbs, 

 which refused any longer to serve him, he finally stood at 

 bay, with open mouth and hanging tongue, unable to fight 

 and disdaining to retreat. His antagonist pushed him and 

 he yielded doggedly. He made no attempt to shield his 

 flank, and pitifully endured all that came. The original 

 plan of non-interference was abandoned, and the young 

 lords gathered around him, and snorted and shook their 

 heads, and gave him an occasional dig in the ribs by way 

 of expressing their contempt for him. The cows came and 

 snuffed at him, and indulged in spiteful feminine butts and 

 walked away. Their manner implied that they had always 

 regarded him as a disagreeable old muff, and they were 

 glad he finally understood their heartfelt sentiments in re- 

 gard to him. 



Through all this the old fellow stood unresistingly, 

 whipped, but still obstinate. Gradually they all left him 

 to himself, and the herd wandered further away. He did 

 not even look around; he was probably forced at last to ac- 

 cept his sentence of banishment, and go and live as long as 

 he could alone, and fight his last fis:ht with the coyotes 

 and die. 



—The Dean of Westminster having issued a circular pro- 

 posing to place a memorial window to Cowper and George 

 Herbert in Westminster Abbey, Mr. George W . Childs, the 

 Philadelphia publisher, asked permission to bear the whole 

 cost of the memorial, and his offer has been accepted. 

 "This generous proposal," says the London Spectator, 

 " shows that kink of love for English literature and genius 

 which does infinitely more than mere commercial relations 

 to bind thetwo countries together; and we may at least ad- 

 mit that, in this case, an American has quite eclipsed 

 English generosity, which seldom goes so far afield in 

 search of the opportunity of appreciating kindred merit." 



Wholesale— Swell Customer— "Ya-as, this is neat. 

 Augh, I'm wather 'xtwav'gant 'n 'umbweliahs !— never go 

 out without one— somebody's; and never go home with 

 one— anybody's. Ya-as. Now— ah— what do you charge 

 for these by the gwoss?" — [Punch. 



—When spring comes round, the croquet sets, which 

 may be had by subscribing to the Forest and Stream, 

 will come into use most opportunely. See advertisement of 

 prizes in to-day's issue. • 



+*+ 



—Men of intellect dislike fish; they prefer a meteor 

 course. 



-The forecastle is the sailor's heaven, his tarry home. 



\tt mid 



\mmn. 



REHEARSAL FOR A GRAND 

 SUNDAY CONCERT. 



ITALIAN 



A PEEP BEHIND THE SCENES. 



CHARACTERS enter, and although the weather is ex- 

 ceedingly warm, they all look as if they were, threat- 

 ened with a chill; they seem indeed as if they had all been 

 suddenly awakened from a sound sleep and stood in a draft 

 of cold air. The pianist is behind time, and the basso 

 growls in undertones — he only goes down to his lowest notes 

 before the footlights. The mild tenor breathes forth scarcely 

 perceptible indignation. The soprano, with a shawl over 

 her shoulders, that half envelopes her head and the entire 

 lower part of her face, shivers out her impatience, and 

 then sinks into an old, worn-out easy chair and marks the 

 passing moments impatiently with her little foot. A more 

 dowdy second-hand, shiftless looking crowd, it would seem, 

 never came together. At last the pianist makes his ap- 

 pearance. He has a piece of hard biscuit in his hand and 

 smells of cheese. Strange as it may seem, he inspires by 

 his entree,iov his expectant audience enliven at once. Down 

 goes the shawl of the soprano, her eyes brighten, she rushes 

 up to the piano, turns over a page of music, and is congrat- 

 ulated graciously by the basso; compliments as light and 

 flimsy as bits of colored paper enliven the air. Then comes 

 a momentous silence, and the pianist strikes a chord or 

 two, when the pianist, looking at the written music before 

 him, discovers he is very near-sighted, and is tediously 

 long in getting out his spectacles. Then, to the impatient 

 protests, he can't decipher the many pencil marks "for 

 change" that have been put upon the original score. The 

 prima donna again assumes a languid position, supporting 

 herself, indeed, by the assisting arm of a broken-down 

 rocking-chair. The mild tenor aranges on the left, short 

 plump contralto vocalizing over his shoulder; Aldermanic 

 basso profundo, bald-headed, striding up and down beating 

 an irregular measure with his fists, now fast, then slow, 

 upon the various articles of furniture as he passes. 



Basso, with preliminary clearing of his throat, addressing 

 pianist with an important tone: "I shan't sing all this, it's 

 too long. Make a few chords here, then play these bars, 

 and join on to this (turning the page). You must play that 

 passage by heart, and I shall pin these pages together so 

 that you make no mistake, or else good bye to my solo. 

 Now — begin." (All essay to sing, coming in one after the 

 other, then — halt! 



Imperious basso (to pianist) : "You must compose a 

 prelude, so that we all begin together. " (Pianist plays a 

 few bars and ends with some chords, and all start again to- 

 gether). 



Basso (waving his hand) : "Piano — pianissimo." Soprano 

 faintly hums her part, till becoming excited by some imag- 

 inary dramatic action suggested by the words, suddenly 

 swells her voice to its full power, and pounds on pianist's 

 shoulders to stimulate his speed, and rushes on with basso 

 till the alegro becomes prestissimo. Contralto makes two or 

 three futile efforts to chime in, and nervously clutches the 



arm of pianist and produces a rallentendo, when suddenly 



halt ! as bang go basso's fist and feet, and perspiring co- 

 piously, he trots off to the window to ventilate his displeas- 

 ure. "Can't sing, impossible (turns deprecatingly to ac- 

 companist) piano don't follow. 



Soprano (soothingly) : ' 'Have a little patience. (To accom- 

 panist). Never ritardando till you hear us do it. Play this 

 chord." 



Pianist (remonstratingly) : "But its bound." 



Soprano: "No matter; we want itp^yed." 



Contralto: "I can't sing in this key (to pianist, doubt- 

 ingly). You couldn't transpose this atone lower?" 



Pianist runs his eye over the music a moment and begins 

 in another key — thum, thum, thum, etc., etc. 



All: "That's it!" 



Music proceeds very smoothly till tenor and contralto have 

 a long note to sustain. Pianist keeps time well marked. 

 Bass and soprano ecstatic, making roulades, trills and 

 bronchial gymnastics ad lib., accompanied by a mimic 

 pantomime and prolonging their slow agony — ca-a-a etc. 

 when tenor and contralto simultaneous^ stop, breathless 

 and soprano's hands fall like hammers upon the back of 

 pianist. General halt. 



Basso (assaulting player): "Slower, slower; have you 

 no ear? Listen to me." 



Pianist: "Tenor cannot hold that note; I follow him. It" 

 is the principal part." 



Mild Tenor: "Consider the length of that note." 



"Impetuous Basso (in an undertone) "No artist. Has no 

 heart."— (aloud) "I have sung in every opera house in the 

 world, and always sing this so." 



Soprano: "Let's try from here" (pointing). 



Obstinate Tenor: "No. The more we sing it the more 

 of a muddle we shall make of it. It will go well enough." 



Basso (contemptuously): "It don't go at all." 



Then commences a grand quarrel, in natural voices, the 

 pitch being on decidedly high keys. The astonished' list- 

 ener is confounded with the query, how so many disagree- 

 able and ear-rending notes can come from throats which a few 

 moments before, uttered sounds as solemn as the murmur- 

 ings of the Norway pine in a storm, or as do the larka 

 when they greet the morning sun. The voices are now de- 

 cidedly unmusical, the piano disappears early in the contest, 

 but the action is magnificent. The men become Salvinis 

 and the women Ristoris, when at the critical moment— the 

 moment when blowe, would seem to be imminent— a waiter 

 appears with some cheap wine and lager, the frown disap - 



