\22 



FOREST AND STREAM 



[Si;rr. 13, 1883. 



She ^IportmtiHn §£onri$t. 



IHE CRUISE OF THE SA1RY GAMP.-IV. 



' IMiE little steamer Hint plies on the tipper Sarajaae makes 

 .L the different landings in si zig-zag manner that knocks 

 LJio conrpass points endwise. Only "by slaying where you 



can watch every turn of the prow can you retain a definite 

 notion of north nud south. And that is how it happened 

 (hat, being Unobservant of turns, 1 found the sun setting in 

 the east— a vexatious tiling to a woodsman. Missing one of 

 the imii.s of Hie fiont I was turned myself. 1 straightened 

 myself out by shutting both eyes and letting a muscular 

 guide whirl rile around halt a dozen times promiscuously, 

 then setting the compass without looking at the sun; then, 

 being right on I lie cauliual points, 1 took a general average 

 of the landscape. This brought me right. BOrtlett'S Land- 

 ing is a ten minutes' easy walk from the hotel. The house 

 was well filled with hoarders, and when the captain of the 

 steamer got a little enthusiastic in describing the little canoe, 

 nearly tire entire force of the house, eager for any novelty, 

 turned out to take a look at her. 1 think that not less than 

 fifty people had a turn at lifting her. Then they wanted to 

 see her go. So 1 took off boots and coal, got id. and pad- 

 dled out into the lake, where there was a swell that made her 

 dance like a cork. Than down the lake, with a whole sail 

 breeze alter us, bright weather, and the principal mountain 

 peaks id sight all the way. Yci y pleasant, but it came to an 

 end. A flight at Hit- Prospect House, and a most exasper- 

 ating draw across a muddy carry of four miles, where 1 hung 

 on to the canoe until my arms were numb, and 1 launched on 

 Big Clear Pond, only to get caught in an uglv squall and 

 drenching rain once" more. 1 paddled up to honest Joe 

 Baker's camp, wet to the skin, and got a privilege by the 

 ccok stove, which 1 held until bed time. 



The next day brought a steady, persistent, all-day rain; 

 tiresome to a degree. I relieved the tedium by playing the 

 mouth organ for .Toe's children, talking to anybody who 

 would listen, and baiting ray mouth with five-cent cigars. 

 Monday, the '6th, Was clear 'and cold. 1 hired Joe to take 

 myself "and canoe across the two-mile carry on a one-horse 

 Wagon, and found it the roughest, muddiest carry I had yet 

 encountered. Crossed 1 he Upper St. Regis Lake to Spitfire 

 Pond, Where, for the first time, I was driven ashore by a 

 sharp sea and a flawy wind, t hat hade fair to catch under 

 the canoe and capsize her. 1 crept through the brush along 

 shore until I reached the outlet, paddled to the Lower St. 

 Regis, where 1 "as again beaten oil and lauded on Captain 

 Peter's Hoik in front of the hotel, where, less than half a 

 mile off. 1 could sec conviviality and comfort, and pleasant 

 verandas where couples were* promenading, and children 

 playing about the grounds of Paul Smith's noted wood- 

 land resort. 



And I was hungry, and likewise thirsty. If there he crea- 

 tine comforts anywhere in the woods, they may be found at 

 Paul Smith's. But there was a white-crested topping sea 

 between me and the comforts aforesaid. Even the stillest 

 guide-boats shunned the rough sea from Peter's Rock to the 

 outlet, and kept along the smoother windward shore. So I 

 amused myself by putting a board shanty which stands on 

 the roekv 'point i'n order.' picking blueberries, cutting -wild 

 grass, and making believe I was going to camp all night 

 within one hundred and fifty rods" of a first class hotel. It 

 was, on the whole, very enjoyable. The weather, barring 

 tbeheavy wind, was thy and bright I sat on the wan a. 

 mossy rock, and recalled all the wild forest yarns 1 had 

 heard of Cap'u Peter. I half hoped that the wind would 

 rise to a gale and hold me there all night. Once 1 got up 

 my sand, ■'tied in," and made a straight wake for the hotel. 

 Ten rods out a black flaw caught the Barry at the garboard 

 streak and nearly lifted her over. 1 watched for a "smooth," 

 turned her, and struck out again for Cap'n Peter's Rock. 



Late in the afternoon, when the wind had subsided some- 

 what, a strong boat, with two guides in her, came over pur- 

 posely to give me a lift "across the stormy water. " At first I 

 demurred. I would paddle over when the wind fell a little. 

 I could "make the ritlfe," etc. But they said there were 

 parties at the hotel who were anxious to see the little canoe 

 and the lit He old woodsman who had paddled and carried 

 her over 118 miles. So I weakened and allowed myself to 

 be taken in low. 



Luckily, Paul Smith happened lo know me — by reputation 

 — and he met me cordially. Grand old woodsman he is. 

 Once a guide, and a good one. Now, the most successful 

 landlord in the Northern Wilderness. Not so old as one 

 who has followed the writers of the North 'Woods woidd 

 inter. Only fifty-six, and well-preserved. I am glad to 

 have met him. More than glad to have crossed from side to 

 side this region without its parallel on the globed earth. 

 On the 12th of this month, Verplanck Colvin meets a com- 

 mission at Blue Mountain, to report on the expediency of 

 preserving this grand region as a State park. May their 

 counsels lie guided by good common sense and humanitarian 

 principles, and no "politics, log-rolling, or hippodromii 

 allowed the slightest consideration. Nessmck 



i'ADL SMITH'S, August. J SKI. 



Little Totpehs bake, Aug. BJ. — 1 date from Little Tup- 

 pers Lake, and a finer lake it would he hard to find. No 

 desolate lines of drowned out lauds here. All as it came 

 from the hands of nature. Have been out this morning deer 

 hunting, so to speak. Laid off for four mortal hours wait- 

 ing for a deer to attempt the crossing ~f Duke;:.: Bay 

 No deer came. But there came a loon, and he settled within 

 ten rods of the canoe, raised himself on hind legs (.they are 

 very hind, and he has no others), turned his white, clean 

 breast to me. and gave me his best, weird, strange song. 

 Clearer than a clarion, sweeter than a flute; loud enough to 

 be beard for miles. 



Never, as my soul lives, will 1 draw a bead on a loon. He 

 is the very spirit of the wildwoods. Fisherman be may be. 



lb- hes his daily food after his nature. He is no trout 



crank. He does not catch I rout at fifty cents per pound for 

 the hotels. Don't, please don't, emulate Adirondack: Mur- 

 ray, and waste two dozen cartridges in the attempt to de- 

 molish a loon 



livery sportsman who enters the office of Paul Smith's 

 hotel will notice the neat, well-mounted buck's head at the 

 right, as one goes in. The head and horns are in nowise re- 

 markable. The horns are only four points to the side. 1 

 have saved a score of better heads myself. But the head is 

 flanked on cither side by an immense speckled trout. Paul 

 Smith gave me this account of them. He said: "Mr. 

 Hotchkiss and his partner, of New Haven, went out fishing 

 on Big Clear Pond. Mr. Hotchkiss hooked the biggest trout, 

 and saved him. They had a lot more, weighing from one 



to three pounds. I said, what are you going to do with 

 these big trout? Give them to me and 1 will get them 

 mounted. Thev did. Isent them to Bell, of New York, andhe 

 sent t lieiri hack as you see. with a bill of $43, I don't re- 

 gret it, I have been offered $100 for them." 



The success of the St. Regis, is as nothing to me. But, 

 the grand old woodsman. The man who fell in love with 

 the little canoe; who gave me points on the return trip; 

 who talked with gusto of his guiding days, when he guided 

 Clunks Hal lock, and many other notables of the woodland 

 fraternity; well, 1 am not likely to soon forget him. 



i will pause to remark that, of the two big trout, the one 

 on the left, facing the deer's head, weighed by scale JJJlbs. 

 The one on the right Dibs. And I have been after a big 

 trout for fifty years, and the biggest trout I ever caught 

 weighed less than 21b«. ! Well, 1 am no trout liar. Paul Smith's 

 woodland resort is rather a high-toned institution — a sort of 

 sylvan Long Branch; a forest Newport. Coaches arrive 

 every day quite alter the style of fifty years ago. Pull in- 

 side; six' on top: guard playing a loony tune on a prepos- 

 terously long tin horn. Billiards, tenpins, finely-kept play- 

 grounds, good drives, good livery, and, what I 'did not ex- 

 pect, good flouting and deer hunting within easy reach of 

 the hotel, It was on t he eve of August 8. I had packed my 

 slender duflle had "tied in," and was promising myself an 

 early daylight start on the following morning. The'evening 

 Was line" the walks and piazzas were thronged, a dozen 

 guides »verc gathered in trout of the hotel talking dog, deer, 

 trout, parties, etc., after the manner of guides in the North 

 Woods. And there came from the outlet a swift, double- 

 ended blue boat, with only a guide in her, and the guide 

 was giving her an ash breeze for all she was worth. 



He ran his boat high and dry on the Clean sandy beach, 

 came Cjuieklv up to" the knot of guides, and said curtly, 

 "Boys, JoeNewell's drowned." 



"Where? When'? How?" were the hurried questions, 



"In Follensby, Jr. Two hours ago; fell out of his boat 

 somehow, and tangled up in the lily-pads." 



Theie was silence and sobernoss among the guides. Finally 

 one remarked, "Somebody ought to tell his wife." 



"Jim, you go up and tell her." 



"1 — I can'l. I've got to wash my boat and take my party 

 up the lake. Why don't you go}" 



"Wouldn't doit for a" hundred dollars. Let the clerk 

 send a hoy." 



Then the guides arranged for an early start over to Fol- 

 lenshy Pond to grapple tot the body; and a gloom seemed 

 to settle on the pleasant surroundings as the news spread. 

 And the question most often heard was, --Has any one told 

 his wife?" I don't think 1 should like to he the one to carry 

 her the news. 



On the morning of the 9th at 4:30 A. M. 1 quietly stepped 

 into the little canoe for the return trip by a somewhat differ- 

 ent route. No one was astir about the'hotel save the night 

 watchman, who came dowu to the landing to see me off. 

 Through the lower St. Regis, Spitfire Pond, the upper St. 

 Regis, the two-mile carry, and 1 reached Joe Baker's in time 

 for'breakfast . Then a delightful trip of two miles across 

 Big Clear brought me lo Sweeney's; a half-mile Carry, tQ 

 Little Clear Pond, with its bright waters and beautiful 

 shores. 



If I wanted to go into camp for a week or two for Sailing 

 and hunting I have no ground 1 would pi efer to the pleasant, 

 lonely banks of Little Clear Pond. It is well stocked with 

 both "lake and brook trout. And a young Sweeney who 

 helped me on the carry said, "Bake trout have been taken 

 here weighing twenty-five pounds. Then, the fish commis- 

 sion had a hatchery just back of that point, and they turned 

 thousands of speckled and lake trout info the pond— but few 

 come here to fish — anil there ain't a better stocked lake in the 

 woods. Speckled trout don't do so well here, the paint 

 bothers 'em." 



"The paint?" 'Tos, ochre paint. Vou can catch a tin 

 can full in n few minutes. Good pain!, too. Itkeeps brook 

 trout away from the spring holes, and in the deep water the 

 lakeis gobble 'em. Deer are plenty. I saw a big buck in 

 the pond last evening, but he kept so near the shore 1 couldn't 

 cut him off." 



Over the (wo and a half mile carry to the Prospect House, 

 across the Saranac to the Sweeney carry, and down the carry 

 to the desolate, diowned-out shores of the once beautiful 

 Raquettc River. And get down and out of the Raquette 

 in the quickest possible. A sluggish, sullen stream, with 

 miles on miles ol dead timber and unnatural marsh, in not the 

 stream to linger on, and you will be glad, asl was, that there 

 is a little steamer to speed you out of it, and land you at the 

 head of Big Tupper in time for supper, 



Hall a mile above the hotel you may see a foaming sheet 

 of water tumbling into the lake over brown, wholesome- 

 looking boulders. This is Boy Falls, and a carry of a few 

 rods sets the canoe afloat above and beyond dead shore lines. 

 The cruise up Boy Stream is bright and pleasant. The 

 carries a little rough and muddy, but the run across Round 

 Pond and up the channel into Little Tupper makes amends, 

 while the hunter-like welcome to be met at the Grove House 

 inclines one to lay off Tor a few days and take a little hunt- 

 ing, as it were. "For Pliny Robins is hunter Bnd guide, as 

 well as landlord, and has even now started up the lake with 

 his rifle and two eager hounds in the boat. A. guide with 

 two more hounds is just launching his boat, and if looks a 

 good deal like a hunt. I notice a quarter of venison still left 

 in the store-room. 1 have not eaten a meal since 1 came 

 here without trout or venison, one or both. Such fare is 

 always to be had at Little Tupper. Both deer and trout are 

 becoming more plentiful yearly, partly though better protec- 

 tion foi the one and judicious restocking for the other. 



The number of beautiful lakes and ponds in this wonder- 

 ful region, no man knows, and Little Tupper is among the 

 finest t Gamy as the gamiest, clear as the clearest, and sel- 

 dom rough. 'Where there are so many delightful sheets of 

 water, each with its own peculiar beauties, it is idle to claim 

 ,u' ,;i;, , - '<.„,-,: t lie finest. 



The Sairy has been fairly paddled up to date. 1 am called 

 on about every day to take her out and show her paces for 

 the benefit of the curious or sceptical. I mostly comply. I 

 am pleased to show people how light a boat will carry a man 

 safely and comfortably. She is to go hack by the Slim Pond 

 routc : , and Long Lake, Forked, Raquette, etc., to my favor- 

 ite stamping ground, the waters of the Moose. NKssimK. 



To be Suot on the Wtxo.— The New York police turned 

 over to the Commissioners of Charities and Correction last 

 week a mini who labored under Die delusion that the Gov- 

 ernor of New Jersey had ordered the best wing shots of the 

 country to shoot him. That was decidedly flighty. May 

 not this fear of being shot on the wing have been induced 

 by remorse for pot-hunting out of season? 



fyfypt W^° r U' 



USE OF ZOOLOGICAL COLLECTIONS.* 



BY WILLIAM A. CONTTLTN, PH.D., D1BJECTOK CENTKAI. PARK 

 MEJMGEHTE. 



THE ardent pursuit of natural science eminently charac- 

 teristic of our day has made itself keenly felt in the 

 domain of natural history. 



For a long time it had been the fashion lo regard living 

 collections as mere material for the idle curiosity of gaping 

 crowds, but a more healthy and truth approaching sentiment 

 has lately lifted our museums of natural history and our 

 zoological preserves into an effective and far reaching me- 

 dium for the instruction and moral culture of the masses. 

 Who that has gazed upon the admirable panorama of ani- 

 mated nature- in the London Zoological Gardens and the 

 Jardins des Plantes, and has noted the close and intelligent 

 attention bestowed upon the living representatives ol "the 

 world's great household by even the most ordinary citizen of 

 London and Paris, can do'ubt that tire scientifically classified 

 list of animals there contained has exercised a strongly edu- 

 cational influence on the people. And the same may lie said 

 of BerliD, Frankfort and Hamburg. 



Systematic knowledge is the basis of true science, and no 

 matter in what department of human effort this supreme 

 character of order may be exhibited, there we may be sun- 

 to find cognate results. The immensity of stellar space bril- 

 liantly alight with the torches of the 'night once offered to 

 the untutored vision of the rustic dweller on the plains of 

 Shinar naught but an inextricable network of glowing 

 points, and yet on the observation «f those same luminous 

 spots was constructed the sublimes', of sciences, astronomy. 

 In like manner the infinite variety of animals that roamed 

 the forest, swam the seas and clove the azure deep of heaven, 

 were SO perplexing in their myriad differences to the first 

 fond lover of animated nature that they despaired of bring- 

 ing them within the hounds of the knowahlc. But kindly 

 science came to the rescue of the puzzled inquirers anil 

 thanks to the lifelong efforts of aLiumeus, a Button and a 

 Cuvier, the tangled web of animal life has been unraveled, 

 the intricate labyrinth of nature's teeming storehouse been 

 trod, and we may say that the hope of erecting a solid and 

 scientific, superstructure for the science of zoology has been 

 cast. 



Knowledge underlies science, science gives it character 

 and whatever knowledge is susceptible rd a scientific char- 

 acter is precious beyond comparison, and more so in propor- 

 tion to its abundance. Now, 1 maintain that the facts of 

 zoology are not only the object of knowledge, but that they 

 surpass in number aud variety the facts Upon which most 

 sciences are based. For this reason its claims to be viewed 

 as a most important adjunct to popular education is held not 

 only to he valid hut intensely valuable. The book of nature 

 is ever before the eye, its lessons are not to be read by the 

 slow method of artificial characters, hut by that divine" ich- 

 nography which is the stamp and alphabet of the creation. 

 Poetry aud philosophy have sunk their shaft deep info this 

 inexhaustible mine, aud what treasures have they not drawn 

 forth? Aristotle and Virgil have a'ike worshipped at this 

 particular shrine of nature, and from what they have writ- 

 ten, and living under the restricted circumstances of their 

 times, we may infer what a more appreciative and scientific 

 knowledge may accomplish. A common adage runs: 

 "Pvpulua mdt decipi," mil a truer maxim would, be this: 

 "The people wish tc be instructed." llow this may be ac- 

 complished a few reflections v, ill. I hope, point out, discur- 

 sive ami disconnective :is they must necessarily he. within 

 the brief limits at my disposal. 



It is an eiTor to suppose that we can study the character 

 and habits of the different members of the animal kingdom 

 outside of their native state when enjoying the liberty of a 

 wild lite; that in captivity we can acquire no accurate 

 notions in respect to them, since their actions are then re- 

 stricted and modified by _ the new conditions or their life. 

 It was the opinion of Button that confinement impedes the 

 exercise and development of all animal faculties. "The 

 savage animal." he observes, "obeys only nature aud knows 

 no other laws than those of necessity and freedom," This 

 erroneous idea had its origin in the notion that captivity 

 means slavery, whereas the truth is that the independence 

 Which a wild auimal enjoys is by no means so complete as 

 we would be led to infer fiom our ideas of a state of nature. 

 Many and various influences modity the conditions of its 

 life in freedom — the near or remote presence of man— abun- 

 dance or scarcity of food— changes of temperature— the 

 strength and courage of its rivals, and many other circum- 

 stances. It seems strange that Buffon should have enter- 

 tained the opinion above expressed when we consider that 

 the collection of animals in the Jardins des Plantes was so 

 invaluable to him in the production ,,1 his history. To-day 

 the very popularity of zoology has acted as a safeguard 

 against the importam mistakes that were made by those 

 writers on natural history who considered animals as existing 

 in their wild state. Relying for their information upon the 

 reports of travelers, previous writers repicsented to us the 

 lion as endowed with every attribute of nobleness and 

 clemency, while they pictwed to us the tiger as fierce and 

 un tameable, 



As illustrative of the value which a close inspection affords 

 us in an artificial collection. 1 will state that modern zoology 

 has established a complete identity of disposition between 

 the specimens held in captivity and their congeners as stud- 

 ied in a purely feral state. 



Another fallacy, which a closer acquaintance with ani- 

 mals in captivily'has set aside, is that relating to the belief 

 existing among popular writers of natural history that the 

 herbivora are of a mild and affectionate nature. From this 

 many infer that the character of the alimentary substance 

 upon which animals subsist is contributive lo the develop- 

 ment of a peculiarly moral tone, so that the tenderie:-:-: and 

 mild-eyed clemency of the. antelope and the camel is the 

 outcome of the juicy andunstimulating fodder they consume, 

 while the ferocity aud cruelty of the lion and the tiger are 

 the result of their fondness lor gore. This physiological sup- 

 position has also made its impress on poetry. We associate 

 the soft and timid gazelle with mildness' and beauty and 

 affection, an idee more inspired by her fascination of appear- 

 ance than by fact. The reality, however, disproves this 

 charming and popular notion, for flic dear gazelle, of the 

 poet is not the gentle, generous and confiding friend which 

 his fancy painted it, nor is the tiger the treacherous auibus- 

 cader of" the jungle without one redeeming feature to relieve 



• A paper read before the Eegents of the Univeiaity of the State of 



New York. 



