126 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[September IC, 18S0. 



Tlie average of these lakes, which it is sacrilege here to 

 call anytliiiig but salmon^ U jast about two and one-haLf 

 poiiiiiia. Aiul tliey are exceedingly fine on the table, 

 b.'Ctt-r thim 8[)eckled trout, to iny thinking, in whish 1 

 am curiobiirated by nearly every guide and angler on 

 these waters. I have iiasacd by the camps on Little 

 M'Jose. They are three, with open, bark camps, that any 

 one may occupy, thrown in. And it is one of the finest 

 lakes on Che Moose waters. Passing up the Fourth, the 

 first, camp above the Snyder is Sam Uunakin's— Honest 

 Sam Duiuilcin. Whi3key-loving Sara ; one of the oldest 

 guides in the Adiroudacks. Faithful to his party, be the 

 same a party of one or comprising, women and children, 

 with a nuisance in tlit.^ Hliapc of jvjler famUias thrown 

 in. Always competent, always auber (on duty), no guide 

 can take you to more places by more direct routes or 

 '• take cave ' (.if you beiler than Sam. God forgive him 

 the Ic-oful lies lie tried to get down rae, as he, being out 

 of a parly ju^t then, got me to paddle up and pass the 

 nigUt with liim. 



The next camp is Ed. Arnold's, across the lake, in a 

 pleasant gi'ove, and with accommodations for a rather 

 large [jariy. Ed. is, and has been for many years, a 

 guide; oiiH of the oldest. Rom on these waters, he has 

 passed his life in the wildorneBS. Like Mitchell Sabatis, 

 Ham Duualiin and other of the old guides, the routes of 

 the wilderness lo him are as streets of the city to a cock- 

 ney. He keeps a %vood3 hoslelrie, but takes parties to 

 guide, and he guides them well, 



The '• LawrcnceCaiiip," the " Turin Camp," the "Pratt 

 Camp," the ■• BLssell Camp," all on the Fourth, are but 

 repetitions of tiiose already described. If these camps 

 give auv correct i-lea of tlie way and manner of living in 

 the Noi'th Woods, at the western side, how is it on the 

 other side, where daily lines of stages bring loads of pas- 

 sengers each day ; where horses and men are stationed at 

 the •• carries," to take guides, boats and parties across, 

 and telegraph wu-es, steamers, high-priced hotels, bil- 

 liards, boats, pianos, croquet grounds and all the concom- 

 itants of a high-priced watering place prevail? 



The days of the hermit hunter have passed away for- 

 ever, so lar as this vvilderness is concerned. The deer 

 are disappearing rapidly and the trout are being thinned 

 out at a deplorable rate. - , .„, , ., 



It is true that the camps able to employ skillful guides 

 manage to have a fair su^jply of tTOUt and venison, but it 

 costs tnem more than a uollar to the pound. All the 

 same, it IS a dreamy, sylvan, delightful life to live, and 

 n-'t ai tx|jensive as Long Bnincu, or Newport; but, to 

 my tbiukmg, tar preferable. 



And wiiat of the guides — the men who honestly and 

 earucBilv believe theTnsclves entitled to the rights of sov- 

 erei^uiy over the whole domain of the Northern Wilder- 

 ness^i' And are they so very far wrong? One guide said 

 in my hearing, "We take our parties to the houses that 

 treat us besr. They always go where we say. If a land- 

 lord wants to go back on the guides, well, he can try it 

 on." 



Yes, the guide is a leading and controlling element of 

 the North VVuods. He has salient points of character well 

 Worth nuiintf, because, sooner than he thinks, perhaps, 

 his vocaLiou wiU liave passed away. Already on tue 

 ea-iern '^ule of tlie wiideruess he is out of the regular 

 iobs ^" cusilj obtainable in the days of "Murray's Fools," 

 iud evcu ij.AV. on the western aide, where the indepen- 

 dent system prevails. 



\lie wiMeruess guide deserves special note. He ia a 

 Bpecimeu of the genus homo that I have nowhere else 

 Been • and, whatever, he may think, destined soon to 

 pass away' forever. His present conviction is that the 

 advent ot lirsD-class hotels, stage coaches and steamers is 

 fated to rum the guide business, and he ia doubtless right. 

 At uieseiu he remains in pristine vigor, and it is worth 

 whae to note fus most piomuient cupracteristics while 

 he IS to the lore. Firstly, your guide must be familiar 

 with a portion at least of the leading routes through the 

 wddeniess. Seconilly , he must have the muscle of a cart- 

 horse Uecausd lUe tmrd retiuisite is a boat of "the Long 

 Lilie model," weighmg, wiui oars, seats and neck-yoke, 

 Ho lo Ibil oounds. Argument will not convince him that 

 tlie world call produce a better or lighter boat tit for 

 EUicliug. bhow him a Rushton mouel, bght, strong, 

 wddiiicily and weigiiing furty-hve pounds, aud he will 

 bL,v bUo is slow ; he wauis a boat that -he can get Bome- 

 wueiewitli." IC doca not occur to liim that he is work- 

 ing for a pHxty who would much prefer a more roomy, 

 Sale aud conuorlable boat, aud that if he made Bome- 

 ■wi.at leas speed his party would be just as weU satisded, 

 ■while u would ieuguien his job and lighten his "carries" 

 —just what fie desU'es. 



And so he Jits himself for guiding and awaits his "par- 

 ty " if n« no «■" ""i **"*! wed-luiown guide, probably he 

 is engaged to meet a party say at the Moose Kiver House, 

 or at tUB Forge House. At the appouited time he is on 

 tne spot, ins boat cleanly sponged, himself in condition 

 to taKe care of his party of one or two. Suppose you are 

 thu party— of one. business detains you, and you are a 

 wtcJi beaUid tlie appointed time, "it is of no conse- 

 aueuce— not the shgnlost." Vom- faithful guide is there 

 wall his boat ; has been there for a week, and has a bill 

 asauiBt vou as follows: "Guide's services, *18 ; Hotel, 

 ft?" You aro a little sore, but conclude to make 

 Le best of It; and, after aU, is it not just? You 

 made the bargam and appointment. Guide has been 

 faithful to his tryst. Vou cannot get out ot it hon- 

 oraDlv ■ so, vou succumb, and, bemg bent on a good 

 tiiue get cheerful and invite guide to "take somethmg." 

 Y^u are on the right tack there. One of his best ' 'holts" 

 is to take someiumg. But you have had enough of 

 hotels- you did not como for tuat.-aiid you suggest an 

 inuUe.aiatt),Btai-C. Guide is rcady-^has Ijceii reaUy tor a 

 week And he commencea emptjiuR' ins old shirts auu 

 overalls from an immense atf air, looking for aJI the world 

 111; an exaggerated tish-Creel, and holuing a tuil bushel. 

 XUis 18 the inevitable, pack-basket of tne wilderness. 

 SUaoed for the human back, and holding a bushel of pro- 

 Tibioas, clotuing or anything you chose to put into it, 

 witlioutjaminmgor mu.ssiiig it, it is tar ahead of any 

 ki apsaciZ 1 ever carried. But beware how you hU i , be- 

 cause when your giude carries an eighty-hve pound boat, 

 Willi a Kun 'aud a hshiug-rod or two, across a lieavy 

 rarryfi^i" pack-basket wUl either fall on your shouders 

 or\ oa will have to "double the carry." You do not un- 

 deiiiaiid that as you order bread, batter, canned goods, 

 t«a bugar. cottee and aU the eatables you can think o- 

 or iha^iuve landlord .cau.BUggest, untU the guide hin , 



that the pack-basket is about full. Then you desist, and 

 begin to contrive how to carry your extra clothing, etc. 

 The guide is constant with advice and assistance. When 

 the basket willMiold no more, he makes up your extra 

 dullle in a neat blanket roll, and announces his readiness 

 to start. As you take your share of dunnage to the land- 

 ing, it dawns on your mind that you might have got 

 along with less weight ; but it is too late to mend that, 

 and you place the impedimenta amidships of the long, 

 cranky boat, creep into the stern, while the guide holds 

 the bow firmly, and, guide seizing oars, you are off up 

 the lakes at a speed of six knots an hour. Your destina- 

 I ion is Beaver via Raquette and Forked Lakes, thence 

 across by the ponds and carries from Little Forked Lake 

 to Little Tupper, then by Charley Pond to Smith's Lake 

 and the Beaver. Guide' advises a different route, taking 

 in Long Lake, Big Brook, Slim Pond, Stony Pond, etc. 

 You go over the maji with him, and accept the change. 

 It is a longer route, but more pleasant, takes in more 

 country and there is less careying. At the head of Fifth 

 Lake you begin to realize what a carry means. Guide 

 hauls his boat out in a way that means business, makes 

 oars and seats fast, dons his neck-yoke, takes as much 

 more as he can possibly handle, and walks off with the in- 

 verted boat covering him from .sight— all but his legs. 

 Your load is the pack-basket, a blanket roll, gun and rods, 

 weighing seventy-five to eighty pounds ; not less. Be- 

 fore you reach the upper landing the perspiration is run- 

 ning from eveiy pore, and you are winded. A ratlier 

 long pull over the Sixth and Seventh restores your wind, 

 but when the boat is hauled out for the carry from Sev- 

 enth to Eighth, which is over a mile, you snivey on your 

 load. You can't stand such infernal loads in hot weather. 

 You will can-y the basket over first, and come back for 

 the rest. Guicle thinks you had better take it all at once ; 

 it just makes three titnes as much trouble to "double 

 carry," and you can go slo«' and rest often ii« you please. 

 And again you follow a pair of legs and a blue boat over 

 a carry, arriving at the Eighth Lake in a limp and ex- 

 hausted state, and with a firm resolve never to carry that 

 load again. Arriving at the carry from Eighth Lake to 

 Brown's Tract Inlet, you proceed to divide your load ac- 

 cordingly, and express your unalterable resolve to double 

 trip the carry anyway. Guide is all sympathy and com- 

 plaisance. "Y^ on needn't do that," he says; "just take 

 your gun and rod. I'll come hack for the basket and 

 roll while you rest. You ain't used to packing." Sure 

 enough. Why not? You have engaged him for two 

 weeks at $3 per day and found ; you are to pay him for a 

 week you did not have him. What odds can it make to 

 him whether he puts in more or less of the time making 

 carries ? Thus you reason, and reason soundly, to my 

 thinking. But the average guide can Daball the sum total 

 of a trip through the woods in a way and manner to strike a 

 professional accountant dumb. Well, you have "come 

 down." Henceforward you are as wax in the hands of 

 your guide. You sit down by the sluggish waters of 

 Brown's Tract Inlet and claw madly at punkies and black 

 flies, while guide doubles the carry. After this he doubles 

 all the carries, and you take it easy. It is what you came 

 for. Very pleasant it is to be rowed at leisure through a 

 wooded, romantic, mountainous country by a man who 

 kn-iws the lay of the land, the best places for "floating" 

 .and all the favorite springholes where trout do most 

 abound. You aro never short of trout, .and guide prom- 

 ises you a shot at deer as soon as you get a little otf the 

 main route. He takes the best of care that you get 

 neither wet. tired or hungry. You are his party. For 

 the most part you stop at one of the many forest hotels 

 for the night, where they will cook your trout in the 

 best manner, and give you food and rest at -which no 

 reasonable man will cavil. 



And so through the long, pleasant, summer days, just 

 cool enough for comfort, you glide o-ver these tiny sum- 

 mer seas, up inlets, down outlets, down clear streams, 

 not hurrying, ignoring tiine, losing the date of the month 

 and day "of the week, until at length, with little fatigue 

 and much pleasure, you arrive at your destination on the 

 upper waters of the" Beaver. 



Guide has an interest in a good bark camp here, to 

 which he takes you, and while you try youv fly-rod at a 

 spring hole whiiili he shows you he proceeds to make the 

 camp comfortable and arrange ; matters for a ten days' 

 sojourn in camp. Your fishing is a success, and when 

 you return you tind a pleasant fire, fresh browse on the 

 bed, aud all your multifarious traps arranged just to your 

 notion. Guide cooks a trout supper that you think equal 

 to anything you ever tasted, hastily dispo.«ies of the dishes, 

 dives into some recess in the back end of the ca m p aud 

 brings forth a jack with material for a light. 



"You must shoot a deer to-night; this camp needs 

 venison," he says. You are agreeable. 



'Ever shoot a deer by jack-light ?" ha asks. 



You confess you never did. Then he instructs you how 

 to do it. The gist of which is, be perfectly cool, shoot when 

 he tells you, and hy all means aivi low. Most people 

 overshoo't by jack-lig"lit, ho remarks. Before 10 P.M., at 

 which time you are lo push out, you begin to get a little 

 nervous, but at last guide announces that time is up, and 

 the oars are laid aside, light bm-ning brightly at the bow, 

 you are placed j^roperly with final instructions, and the 

 boat glides silently into the clear water of the lake. For 

 ten minutes you move thus, and then the low lisping of 

 the lily pads, as they are slowly sucked under by prow 

 or paddle, becomes just audible. Fifteen minutes of this 

 —twenty, perhaps— and the guide whi»iiers hoarsely, 

 "there's a doe I see her?" The boat is swinging slowly 

 to the right, and— yes, there she stands, ui> to her belly 

 arnong the pads, her eyes looking like illuminated blue 

 ■ glas-s.- -"Shoot," says^ a h'jarso whisper behind you, aud 

 you shoot. There is a iiiaahiug and spattering, of water, 

 a trampling on the l.uink. and the doe has vanished. For 

 once, tiie guide loses patience. 



"Why, what ails you ? The deer' wasn't four rods off," 

 he saysi crossly. - . ' " - ' ' 



"Damfino," you answer, iii tEe eame flpirit. Guide re- 

 covers his temper at once. 



"Never mind ; we'll find another," he .says. 



Y''oii are not so sure. But the boat, impelled by that 

 noiseless paddle, glides over weeds, grass and pads for 

 nearly an hour, and there, riglit before you, stands an- 

 other deer. This time you are wiser and cooler ; guide 

 says nothing. He sees that you see, and the deft man- 

 ner in which he quickly and silently turns the boat, that 

 you may shoot without ohauging position, is a perfect 

 piece of -^voodcraf t. 



Again there is an explosion of saltpeter ,-j,nd brimstone , 

 followed this time by a continuous plashing and floun- 

 dering in the wafer that bespeaks a fallen deer. 



"You've got him this time ; nice yearling buck," says 

 guide, (jheoi-ily. 



Yes, you have got him. Half a dozen large buckshot 

 through shoulders and "lights'" have finished his run- 

 ning. 



Guide soon has him in the boat, and von start for camp, 

 the direction of which ia a «ybilline niy^tery lo you, hut 

 ten minutes of vigorous paddlinsi; IjriugB vf.u tlieic, and 

 guide says, "now you turn in : its after midnight, and I 

 ain't going to get you tired out and sick. Turn in; I'll 

 take care of the veniKon." Yon obey, believing you are 

 not at all sleepy, however. But lu live minutes you are 

 asleep, and the sun is shininp; bri-htly when you next, 

 open vom- eyes. Guide is missins. Coint; to the spiiiig 

 youfi"udhiai there, and be shows with BOme pride his 

 cellar, where he has neatly stored the vciuson. It is a 

 cache in the side of the ravine, sctiopcrl out "-itli much 

 pains and labor, and cool as an icp-house. "It will keep 

 meat fresh more than a week," he .says. And lie is riuht. 

 And iust here it dawns on your mind that your vocation 

 is gone. You, came to the North Woods to recuperate, to 

 botanize, to climb mountains, and live for a few days a 

 free careless life of the Daniel Boone type. Well, you 

 have caught aud eaten trout to your satisfaction, and 

 you wanted a ch.ange to venison. You have it. What 

 huma.ne excuse can vou have tor catching another trout 

 or floating another deer until your present supply rmis 

 short? E\'er, if you tlesired to do it, your guide would 

 go back on and discourage every attempt at fishing or 

 hunting. And he is right. He will tell you plainly 

 that deer and trout are getting too scarce fo be xvasled. 

 And so with a week's time aliead of you, and the 

 knowledge in your heart of hearts that himting and 

 fishing were the" main incentive.^ that bi-ouglic juu here, 

 you refrain from both. Not"itlistanding. tlie time passes 

 pleasantly— you row and paddle, climb the liiUs, go over. 

 to the next lake, smoke, sleep and eat--ye gods how you 

 do eat— and rest, and enjoy yoursplt. You half wish the 

 veiiiaon would spoil, that you might have an excuse to 

 shoot another. But guide takes care of that. Aud what 

 a cook the fellow is. ■, • „ , 



"Its lucky we brought the ^potatoes and onions," he 

 says. "They were a little heavy on the can-ies, but we 

 couldn't make a stew without them." , ., , • 



And his soups and stews are about perfect, while Ins, 

 broiled steak is a thing to -'thank Gcd on.' Just Ht the 

 last end comes in another party of lu-o, with a guide, and 

 your guide, seeing that yo-i have more venison thau you 

 "can use, divides with them hheiiilly, and alter a long 

 visit they go over to the next lake, where they are lo. 



On the following morning you pack up and are off to 

 Wardwell's, where you discharge and p-ay ofl: your guide, 

 and go back to civilization again. You are ui no hurry ; 

 guide's lime is not out mitil sundown, and you take it 

 easy. But, when you come to settle, in the evtning, you 

 find relations have slightly changed. Hitherto, you Had 

 been guide's special charge aud care. Now, his tune is 

 out ; he must look for another party. You call tor his- 

 bilk'which he make as out follows:— . , .. 



" You know," he savs. " there was a week I waited at' 

 the Forge House. Gall that ^18 (it was really SJI) ; paid 

 my own expenses, $7, make.. ^jO. lourteeu .lays guid- 

 in''s $1-J, makes -$07. Then ibere was extra woik ; guess- 

 I'U call that iJdU-ought to be more. ' 



" Extra work V " yiu ask, in blank astonishment. 



"Yes " he says, calmly. " Doubfing the cairies. Y'ou 

 see yourself, that every time you double a carr>\it 

 makes just thi-ee times the distance to go oyer. For 

 instance : Brown's Tract inlet, mile an' a half. Go back, 

 an' come back again, three mdeu, making four miles 

 an' a half • an' less so with all the carries I made lioin 

 there to the B. aver. No gentleman, ever sinca 1 was a 

 guide, ever asked me to do that work, without being 

 willing to pay for it." _ 



You ai-o beaten ; remonstrance is useless, and you suc- 

 cumb. 



"What else?" you ask. .,, , 



"Nothiu',"he says ; " only my return pay, three days. 

 That's understood, of course. Three days, g(9, and t-x. 

 peiiBes— dollar a day (that's reg'lar)— makes $13. Sixty, 

 seven ten's seventy-seven, an' twelves eighty-nme. 

 That's the bill-eighty-uinedoUar.s." 



There is no use in quarrehng or remon-straling. While 

 you were his ijarly, he took care of you as a father 

 would care for an invalid son, When his time, ran o,.i. 

 and you were off his h-inds, you became once his pUu.., 

 his greenback mine, to bo panned out and worked down to 

 the ultimate dollar. You pay $12, return money. He geta 

 away at once, rows up to your late camp, la,y8 in iv day s 

 miDDlv of bread and venison, makes hiuit^elt comtortable 

 for tlie night, and the next monun.g, at sumi-se. he starts 

 or Ws mmk, for which you have paid him :^l.^ Now, 

 how does he make it > I can teU you lie shoulders h.B 

 boat and makes the carry to T^vuchell Lake, seven miles ;. 

 crosses that, and makes the curry i.., Big Moose Lake , 

 down Big Moose, aud by carry, and the North Biaich 

 K to fourth lake of the Fulton chain, down tlie lakes, 

 l^urth, third, second and first, aud by 9 o'clock P.M. he 18 

 at the Forge House, whence he started with you two 

 Weeks before. He has taken $13 of your money for re- 

 turn and expenses, aud ho has made it in one day, with- 

 out exoending a cent .save what he maypay lor whiskey 

 1 ,e lore he goes to bed. As for yourself, you sit down aud 

 coimt the co.st about as follows :— 



iisGB from Coonville to Forge Houee 



nhBhTiou) Uomo'io iforBP House 



I auil supply liillB,fi«r«Mte 



,t guiao.. 



v^v'iu s5„^i i-^m warflwoii's Flaw,' wfiii' iimei' hill'. ; : : : : 



Whiskey' clg2r° ,ttUnKeya' and' omnibiie: ! ! " ! .' .' ! '. .'J ! i ! ! ! 

 Total ■ '•- 



$7 50 

 1 UO 



SOU' 

 - 2TII0 



»a iiO 



... 7 m 



... h to 



... a UO 



..SUIOO 



Y''ou have killed one deer, and caught many trout. 

 You have had two weeks of delightful recreation. Trout 

 and venison have coat you m..,re tuan ti.ex' would at 

 Delmonico's ; but they were Iresher, aud eaten will, a 

 far better appetit*. As for the delicious air the tree, 

 ooeu air lite, the lakes, the scenery, the balsam-laden 

 breezes the sweet sleep at night, these cannot be esti- 

 mated by money. " You pajb joui momy, hi.U jov 

 tS your choice." I y.ni only acid, lUv Uie bLov 



