44 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Aluubx 16, 188a. 



on a flahing story quicker than be will on a hunting story 

 ;iud the last is bad enough. 



From Chicago, take the C. M. & St. Paul E. R., by the 

 Dubuque or Prairie Du Chien route (if they will mind 

 they will not take the Dubuque route) till ihey come to 

 Fnimetsburg, where ihey can take the Burlington, Cedi 

 Rapids & Northern to the big hotel, built by that 'company 

 on the peninsula between Spirit Lake and Okoboji. Or they 

 can keep on till they arrive at Spencer, on the main line of 

 the I. & D. of the O, M, & Si. Paul R. R., where they can 

 take the Okoboji branch to Okoboji Lakes 1 would advise 

 this last route, as if Okoboji Lakes are not liked, or they 

 tired of them, they can take either of two small steamers 

 that ply between the lakes, and go to Spirit Lake town, and 

 from there by another small boat to the big hotel. 

 Iowa, July 26. Pu-TTK-Hi-VSAPA. 



THE CRUISE OF THE SAIRY GAMP.-II. 



HAVING loafed about Moose River for a week, and spent 

 another week loitering, fishing, and paddling about, 

 the Fulton Chain, it struck me that, if the little canoe was 

 io carry me on a cruise to the other side, it was time she was 

 about it. I had several excuses for such utter laziness. I 

 said the weather was too stormy, too "catching," for a start 

 through the woods in a boat where a man can carry no 

 change of clothes save an extra blue sbirt and a ptir of socks, 

 Moreover, I had met with an ar eident on the Brown's Tract 

 Road that made mv port deadlight look as though I had been 

 in a "fight mit table legs" at "Hans Breitmau's Baity;" look- 

 ing like a tramp, with a black eye, I disliked to iutroduce the 

 Sairy among strangers. Again, there was good fishing, good 

 fare, and plenty of deer about the Fulton Chain. True, we 

 might not shoot the deer just yet. But it looked wholesome 

 and woodsy to see them come down in broad daylight and 

 feed fearlessly within sixty rods of the hotel, while the 

 ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and the party charted in 

 tones that must, have been very audible to sharp, cervine 

 ears. 1 shall not soon forget one brave old fellow, who 

 ea me down to the water's edge, raised his antlered front 

 boldly, calmly surveyed the party at the hotel, and then re- 

 sumed his feed among the lilies. * 



"The old rascal knows it's close time," remarked a guide. 

 "lie won't be quite so tame after the first of August." 



But there came a bright, clear afternoon, with good 

 promise of one clear day, and the next morning the Sairy 

 was making good time up\he inlet of Fourth Lake. 



The little Fifth, containing only nine acres, but good for 

 floating or frogging, was run over in a few minutes, and 

 then came the first carry, only three-quarters of a mile, but 

 a muddy landing, and like all carries, including "taking 

 out" and' "tieing in." 



The Sixth Lake is made a desolation by the dam at its 

 foot. The large, desolate rock on the leit as" you paddle up 

 looks all the more dreary for the dead timber at its base, and 

 the inlet that leads to Seventh is a dismal swamp. 



The trees around the once bright shores of the Seventh 

 were dying when 1 was there two years ago. They are dead 

 enough now. But the open camp, fifty rods to the left, is 

 still there, and 1 turned to it for rest and a lunch. And as 

 my newly r -made fire sent up its heavy smoke, there came a 

 succession of rifle shots from the opposite side of the lake, a 

 mile away, as of those who go through the wilderness wast- 

 ing cartridges with poor aim and no object. 



Then a boat pulled out and came swiftly to my cam]). 1 

 had met the two occupants before. They reported that 

 "Slim Jim" (James P. Fifieldj was on the opposite side with 

 a bark camp and a "party." He would like to see me. Now, 

 Jim had been very friendly to me on previous visits to the 

 woods, and I could not go by. So I paddled over for a 

 hand-shake and an hour's chat. The time passed too 

 quickly; and by the time I got back, made some tea, and 

 got packed up, it was nearly 3 P. M. 



There were two carries (one of a mile, the other a mile 

 and a half) with nine miles of water between me and my 

 destination on the Raquette, and it was time to move. Over 

 the desolate Seventh, up the 'drowned -out inlet, tie in, and 

 over the carry to the Eighth and last lake of the chain. Here 

 is a lake to admire and camp. No dam has backed up the 

 water here. The bright green shores are as nature made 

 them. Dunning's lone island is stili a sylvan, restful emerald 

 set in peaceful waters, and, Iry the way, Dunning was not at 

 home, and as 1 couldn't, burgle into his camp I thought it as 

 well to play the paddle, for there is no landing on Brown's 

 Tract Inlet, and if, at the mouth, it should happen to get 

 backed in by rough water on Raquette, it would be most 

 unpleasant. So I hurried over the lake, took a short rest by 

 the spring on the right, tied in, and went for the inlet on 

 time. In thirty minutes 1 was afloat, and in an hour and 

 ten minutes more was at the mouth. Luckily there was lit- 

 tle, wind— just the rolling swell a canoeist loves — and I 

 turned down the shore of South Bay for a leisurely two-mile 

 pull to the new camp of Joe Whitney, long-time guide, 

 trapper and hunter, though being crippled in his best arm. 



When he saw the tiny canoe and found I was cruising 

 through the wilderness alone, I think his old hunter's heart 

 went out to me. He welcomed me like a bi other, and got 

 me up a supper consisting mainly of crisp trout, with fresh 

 bread and butter, and powerful tea. If there was anything 

 more I did not need it, and have forgotten. There is a sort 

 of freemasonry among woodsmen that only woodsmen 

 know. Joe and I had heard something of each other— not 

 much: it took us about five minutes to get acquainted. In 

 two hours we were thick as thieves, 



While he was caring for the supper duffel, I wa» build- 

 ing a rousing fire before the cam]). Both understood by 

 instinct that no lamps or indoor arrangements were in order; 

 and we squatted around thefireunt.il "deep on the night," 

 swapping forest yarns and hunting adventures. Then 

 Joe showed me a bed, spring}', fresh and clean, whereon I 

 Blept sweetly, but awoke in time to take in a glorious sun- 

 rise on scenery that I shall not disgrace by attempting to 

 describe. It was all the more welcome that sunrises during 

 the summer of 1883 have been mostly inferential. 



L half felt that on such a morning 1 ought to strikeout, 

 and make Long Lake before night. But the day and the 

 scenery were so delightful, the earn]) was so quiet, so rest- 

 ful, and the air so dry, so redolent of balsam and pine, that 

 1 let the hours go by, and the day wane in utter rest and 

 indolence. What though? May there not come one glorious 

 day in the weary year when we may cast aside every grief 

 and each separate 'care, and invite tile soul to a day of rest J 

 And in the future, when the days of trouble come, as they 

 will come, I shall remember that, grand day of rest, and the 

 abundance of trout and bass wherewith 1 was comforted. 



A finer, brighter morning never dawned on the clear 

 waters Of Raquette Lake than the one on which I paddled 



out from the fragrant, balsam-breathing camp of honest Joe 

 Whitney for a new-made private camp on a point near Ed. 

 Bennett's, where I laid off while an enthusiastic young 

 photographer took the Sairy in different positions, with and 

 without her crew. 



Then, by invitation, I went over the camp as amateur in- 

 spector, and although I have inspected dozens of these wood- 

 land residences called camps— all of them inviting and 

 redolent of balsam and pine— 1 have seen none in more per- 

 fect sylvan taste than Camp Dick. 1 never feel the lack of 

 wealth so sadly as when visit in ir these private camps, where, 

 with a camp costing several thousand dollars, all in the way 

 of food and drink that one can ask, two or three guides at 

 $3 each per day, good fishing and hunting, the best of air 

 and sweet sleep by night, one may dream away the hot sum- 

 mer solstice without ache, pain or care. ' And it is not so 

 very costly," said one of the fortunate ones, "not so expen- 

 sive as the watering places. 1 brine my familv here during 

 the summer months, and get out of it for about $3,000 the 

 season." Yes, it is cheap — for a millionaire. But it would 

 break some of us to run such a camp for a single week. 

 Fortunately, the woods are free, and we can make our own 

 camps. 



1 stopped at Ed. Bennett's Under the Hemlocks, and 

 then paddled slowlv over to the Raquette House, kept by 

 Ike Kenwell, and well kept, too. The selection of this hotel 

 site was judicious. It stands — the hotel— on a dry breezy 

 point of land jutting out into the lake, and it is always cool 

 in the hottest weather. The house is well furnished, the 

 table good, and the open bark camp, with its fragrant bed 

 of browse and rousing fire in front at night is a delightful 

 woodland affair that should always be a pait of the wilder- 

 ness hotel. The best bass fishing* on the lake is in easy reach 

 of the landing. 



Just at night I went, down to the Forked Lake landing, 

 and carried over to the Forked Lake House, where I had a 

 good supper, and watched a couple of guides organize their 

 boat and jack for floating — though the close season had not 

 expired. They were out nearly all night, and if thev got a 

 deer they kept" their own. On the next night, however, a 

 couple of guides went out and got a yearling buck. "It was 

 so near the open season." they said. "What odds did it 

 make if the deer were killed on Monday instead of Wednes- 

 day? The boarders were wild for venison." I think they 

 were not so far wrong. 



The second morning was clear (the previous day had been 

 stormy) and I pulled out for the foot of Forked Lake, where 

 I found Bill Cross, engaged as of old, in hauling boats across 

 the mile and a half carry. He took my knapsack over the 

 carry out of good nature, and I paddled leisurely down the 

 river, and down Long Lake to the newly made drove House, 

 kept by Dave Helms. Dave is a well known Long Lake 

 guide, who, having got a little ahead, and well knowing the 

 requirements of tourists and sportsmen, concluded to give 

 up guiding and take the chances of keeping a. woodland re- 

 sort. And he does more than well. "And it will be colder 

 than it is now if I get. left on venison after the 1st of Aug- 

 ust," says Dave. 



It is sit these less pretentious houses where the landlords 

 have mostly been guides that I find the bast fare and most 

 iporl when" I care to fish or hunt. 



And I write this gossipy letter because I am laying off for 

 the subsidence of a strong N. W. wind and rain. For I am 

 not going to cruise the longest, lake in the wilderness with 

 .. ind and rain abeam. The Sairy is too light of tonnage for 

 much extra clothing. A spare blue shirt and a pair of "socks 

 for change are all the clothing that goe.j on her manifest. 

 Nkssmuk. 



THE PEACE-MAKER. 



ONCE the tribes of far-off North-land 

 Had a war with those of Southland. 

 Then Cheraws and Alabania3 

 Fought the Mohawks and Manhattans; 

 Then the tribes from Big-sea-water 

 Helped the Massachusetts Sachems 

 War against, the Rappahannock*. 

 And the West and North and East-land 

 Fought against the sunnv South-land, 

 Fought and overcame the South-land ; 

 Kept the tribes from being separate; 

 Made the tribes into a Nation, 

 Freed the slave and saved the t nk.ii. 

 Now the war fires sank in ashes. 

 And the tomahawk was bulled; 

 All the tribes were then invited 

 In the wood-land by the streamlet, 

 By the sound of far-off waters. 

 Peacefully to smoke the peace-pipe. 

 But the hatreds of the warfare 

 Kept the tribes from being brothers, 

 Kept them sullen, discontented ; 

 Made them envious aiid resentful; 

 Filled the land with hateful grumbling. 



Then did Manito the Mighty 

 Call tho spirit of the Wood-land, 

 Call the spirits of the Eivers, 

 Call the spirit-guiding Hunters 

 And the spirit-guarding Fishers; 

 Took them to the Big-sea-water; 

 Showed them all the country eastward; 

 Made them look unto the. westward ; 

 Showed them tribes of stalwart warrior*. 

 Minnesotas and Wisconsins, 

 Onondagas and Mohicans. 

 Bade them look unto the southward; 

 Showed them Cherokees and Choctaws; 

 .Made them see the Rio Grande, 

 Flowing into warm-like water. 

 Showed them tribes in all directions, 

 Living in the plains and mountains. 

 By the sea and by the rivers. 

 Discontented and rebellious, 

 Nursing discord and contention. 

 "All these tribes," said the Ureat Spirit, 

 "Ought to live like loving brothers, 

 Ought to cherish love, not hatred. 

 You must go unto the Mohawks, 

 To the tribe of the Manhattans, 

 Breathe upon some mighty chieftains 

 With the thoughts of stream and forest. 

 Fill their hearts with inspiration 

 From the habits of the hunters, 

 From the life of silent fishers, 



So that they may woo the people 



Back to peaceful ways and thinking, 



Back from warlike thoughts and bloodshed. 



Then the people may he brothers, 



Then the tribes may be a nation, 



i treat and lasting, and protecting 



The oppress \1 of other nations.'' 



Then the mighty chieftains gathered 

 (Breathed upon by wood-land spirits; 

 In the Mohawks and Manhattans; 

 Took the twisted cotton fiber. 

 Moistened it and made ic liquid, 

 Milk-white liquid flowing smoothly, 

 Into leaves of wondrous thinness. 

 Which when hardened took impression 

 Of the thoughts the elreftaius uttered. 

 All the chieftains pressed upon them 

 Marks that stood for words of wisdom. 

 Black the marks were on tne white leaves; 

 But the different tribes could read them. 

 Read them near the Big-sea-water, 

 Read them by the far-off ocean, 

 Read them near the Mississippi, 

 Near the lakes and br the rivers. 

 Then the Mohawks and Manhattans 

 Asked the med'eine men and teachers. 

 Asked tin- priests and the magicians, 

 T' send their thoughts to the Manhattans. 

 Lfl <:-:).:!!■;. ..Luis u/ ok-L-k or purple, 

 TelUug of the streams and forests; 

 How they caught and killed the fishes, 

 How they killed the moose and reindeer: 

 All about the bow and Are gun, 

 How the flint gave fire to ihem, 

 How they shot the quail and partridge. 

 How they found the snipe and woodcock. 

 Ducks and geese and birds on water. 

 Tell, they said, of bear and bison, 

 How to camp and how to travel. 

 Tell the story of each weapon ; 

 How at first the.v used the tlint-rock. 

 With the fire gun shooting lead balls; 

 Then how tire they got from copper- 

 On which was put some magic powder- 

 Then how hunting braves grew wiser- 

 Using neither flint nor copper, 

 Loading guns more quickly, batter. 

 With the medicine inserted 

 At the end where was the huntsman. 

 And these chieftains of the White Leal 

 Asked the fishers to inform them 

 How the rod was made of bamboo. 

 How- the hooks were feathered nicely. 

 How the lines were oiled and plaited, 

 How the wheels were used for winding. 

 How to use a net. or gaff -hook. 

 All these things the different writers 

 Wrote upon the pale-face-paper, 

 Made of moistened cotton fiber; 

 Sent it unto tire Manhattans, 

 To be written tor the people. 

 (in tlie Wiiite Leaf, by the chieftains. 

 So the written thoughts were scattered 

 Through the tribes by swiftest runners. 

 Then the people all grew milder, 

 And they learned to love each other ; 

 Then the hatred and the anger 

 Of the tribes on different rivers— 

 Merrimaes and Rappn bannocks, 

 Chatahooehes and Wisconsins— 

 Vanished all and stajfejfjno longer 

 From the West and to the Kastwurd, 

 From the South and to the Northward, 

 All was peace and love aud justice. 

 Every tribe was sympathetic, 

 Learning faith from common interests. 



then said Manito the Mighty: 



"Send your green leaves of the treasury, 



Marked for value with the sign-words 



Of the great Teeumseh's brother, 



By the orders of the people, 



Through the chiefs who meet I ,. 



Meat the rising of the sun god, 

 To the Mohawks and Manhattans, 

 Whd for Manito the Mighty 



-1 illi-. 



-o.-k [ 



Scattering peace aud smiling gladness 

 Through the wigwams of the forest. 

 By the borde-s of the streamlets, 

 Where the rod and gun are used. 

 Four times in each moon receive II, 

 In the spring time and th« autumn, 

 In the summer and the winter, 

 Never ceasing, never stopping, 

 You must, pay your greeu leavys promptly. 

 In the language of the Mohawks 

 Pay your dues aud your subscriptions, 

 To the great peace-maker paper. 

 To the Forest and the Stream anil 

 To the Rod and to the fire Gun."" 

 So spake Manito the Spirit; 

 And he vanished into cloud-land, 

 Floating upward into heaven, 

 Smiling in the gladsome summer 

 If the green leaves are paid promptly. 

 Asa black cloud muttering tnunder 

 When the braves are ever backward 

 In the payment of their DS per 

 Marked with characters and sign words 

 Cabalistic and mysterious 

 (John C. New or Bruce or Sherman,!. 

 Let us not draw forth the lightning. 

 But support the great peace -maker 

 For the sake of the great father 

 Who inspired this undertaking. 

 Leesdcbo, Va., Aug. 8, 18S3. 



Ti'scaroka. 



Kbit — in all the congrntulat oris on the decennial of Ihe Fokkst 

 and Stream none have noticed the fact that after the late meat war 

 persons of all sections met on equal friendly footing in the columns 

 of your paper. This did more for practical reconstruction than most 

 of the acts of so-called statesmen. My effusion is an imitation of a 

 Higher-author. T. 



