

THE AMERICAN vSPORTSMAN'S JOURNAL. 



(.Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by the Forest and Stream Publishing Company, in tho Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.! 



Terms, SI a Year. 10 Cts. a Copy. I 

 Six Mo'*, S3, Three Mo's, SI. | 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1880. 



I Volume 14-No. 1. 



iNo. Ill Fulton Street, New Vorl[. 



"PRISONER'S DREAM" FALLS. 



A DIM, half light hung o'er the glittering verse; 

 A murmur fluttered, faint and soft and low. 

 The indistinct, foud dreams Of long ago 

 Came floating back, enwreathed in shadowy serge, 

 Of tangled mist. A solemn, sombre dirge 

 Rolled upward with a mournful cadence, slow, 

 Where down the double fall the steady flow 

 Flung out the Jetting spray at every surge' 

 Of walling water. Draped in silent thought 

 Bow-leaning trees SWUng swaying- shadows down 

 The. rapids— down foam-flacked, Sinuous gleam, 

 Dipping foBlr boughs caressingly, unsought. 

 Above, tho grim rook's beetling .iailor's-l'rown ; 

 Beneath, the fleeting, phosphorescent stream. 

 A UfJllSl 1th, ISvS. JOIIK PniiSTOM TRUE. 



§he §usi §mnch of the §mob*cot. 



TWO HUNDRED MILES THROUGH MAINE IN A CANVAS CANOE. 

 FOURTH PAPER. 



I OFTEN thought how easily one could stray from 

 camp, anil if without a compass, be lost in this 

 wilderness. While hunting- on Lake Superior, one 

 autumn some years since, I endured such an ex- 

 perience-, and the bitterness of it has always remained 

 fresh in my memory, "While passing over the corduroy 

 road of thirteen and a half miles which lies between the 

 town of Ontonagon, Michigan, and the Minnesota Coppei 

 Mittes, my attention was allured from the road by the 

 rnelodiou3 whir-r-r-r, whir-r-r-r of a brace of partridges. 

 Stepping aside into the thicket, I followed as fast as pos- 

 sible the retreating sound, and after a tediou3 tramp 

 through briers and swamp, I finally brought them to 

 bag. In the excitement of the chase I had given little or 

 no heed to the path or] to the clouds that were fast 

 gathering overhead. Starting back iu the direction I 

 supposed the road, I travelled, it seemed to me, double 

 the distance that would have revealed it, but no familiar 

 path did I find— in fact, I was amazed in discovering that 

 I was back on the same ground on whicn I had started. 

 There was bo reason in the thing, bo reasoning against it. 

 The. points of the compass had been as clear in my head 

 as if I saw the needle, but the moment 1 was back all 

 seemed to be wrong. The sun, which occasionally re- 

 vealed itself, shone out of the wrong pare of the heavens. 

 I climbed one of the tall trees, but the very stillness of 

 the landscape on which I gazed seemed to mock me. I 

 was not a novice in woodcraft, and could follow a trail 

 readily. I examined the bark of the trees to see which 

 side was the roughest, and then singling out a number. 

 judged of the point of the compass the ma- 

 jority leaned, and plunging into the thicket, made 

 another and another attempt. I well lenew the danger 

 of losing my self-control, and sitting down on a rotten 

 log, I covered my face with my hands, ami waited until 

 I felt calm and self-possessed agaiu. I have no idea how 

 long it was, but whea I arose the sun was nearly obliter- 

 ated by the clouds, which soon began to discharge their 

 contents, in sympathy for my ill-luck, and to reach my 

 destination I must make all speed. 



I immediately struck a ''bee line" in the direction 

 which my reveries had designated as the right path, 

 blazing the trees with my hunting knife as I hastened 

 along. Soon I espied an opening, and dashing onward, 

 what was ray joy to find the old corduroy road, which 

 never looked more welcome itt its life. 



FromGrand Lake to the junction of the East with the 

 West Branches of the Penobscot it is sixty to sixty-five 

 miles, the river being shut in on all sides by lofty moun- 

 tains or heavy bells of grand old forests, through which 

 the swift river tumbles," with only an occasional sugges- 

 tion of the lumberman's axe. There are eleven conspicu- 

 ous falls in this interval, varying from twenty to sixty 

 feet in height, while the charming cascades are too 

 numerous to mention. The abrupt descents have the 

 names of Stair, Haskell Rock, (fraud, Pond Pitch, Hull- 

 ing Machine, Bowlin, Spring Brook, Gravel Bed, "Whet- 

 Stone, Griudstone, Crowfoot and Eedge Falls, then- 

 names in. many cases suggesting their wild and rugged 

 formation. 



The water swept so swiftly through this section that, 

 with the exception of the last twenty miles, it was 



hardly necessary to use our paddles, but keeping an eye 

 to the rocks in our path we could silently enjoy the 

 many lovely changes constantly opening iu the land- 

 scape. But this also was decidedly the hardest part of 

 the entire excursion. At most of these falls our whole 

 camp equipage, provisions and canoes had to be 

 •'sacked" around the falls from one to two miles, and in 

 many cases there was hard climbing along the steep, 

 rocky sides of the mountains which followed the river's 

 course, while each one of us carried his portion of the 

 load. 



For two and a half miles, after leaving Grand Lake, 

 one is constantly reminded of the day's experience on 

 Webster Stream, by the furious rapids, and we were 

 again obliged to call into action our " setting poles." Li 

 a drenching rain, we were compelled to land on the 

 shore, take the canvas boat into our laps and sew the cuts 

 in its surface, laughing at the philosophical maimer we 

 submitted to the circumstance. Along the river's bank 

 to the west for many miles, are the lovely Traveler Moun- 

 tains, whose rambling appearance and daily companion- 

 ship are fully represented by their name. 



Stair Falls, the Quartermaster and myself ran in 

 our canvas canoe, but the guides tending their birches 

 as if they were glass, dropped them from step to step by 

 means of ropes, This fall or cascade is a series of steps 

 or stairs, some five in number, each about three feet 

 high and two feet apart, the best passage being through 

 the channel near the left bank. It is a very choice bit 

 of scenery, and one that any artist would greatly desire 

 to transfer to canvas and work into endless variety of 

 composition. A ten mile passage of the swift river, and 

 we reached Grand Falls, which although higher than its 

 namesake on Webster River, being followed immediately 

 by numerous cataracts, did not so impress one. Here we 

 were obliged to make a portage of three-quarters of a 

 mile through the dense woods to the foot of the falls, 

 and in a heavy shower went into camp on the opposite 

 shore. To the "camper-out," a rainy day iu the woods 

 is among the most disagreeable experiences, even nnder a 

 tight tent, good company and plenty of amusement. But 

 increase the difficulties by being forced to be out in the 

 storm, and to leave your canoe at a portage and obliged 

 to carry on your back through mud and mire all your 

 camp effects, Through the woods you stumble, pressing 

 the wet branches aside, which, in their recoil, push away 

 your rubber clothing from which the buttons are fast dis- 

 appearing and the rents appearing, and whose special 

 protection is sadly deficient, until repetition of such cir- 

 cumstances as thorougldy drenches you as if you had 

 been without them, The water is dripping from off your 

 hat to your neck and rolling down your back in icy rills. 

 The position of your arms in carrying your " kit," are 

 such as to lead a looker-on to imagine you are straining 

 hard to fill your sleeves witlt the ram, which you know 

 is a mistake— but there is no help for it. You clutch 

 tightly to your rifle, as your pack begins to slip, striving 

 to~ keep the locks from the rain, while your boots have 

 been innocently occupied in catching evaiy scanty drop 

 which fell from your clotlu'ng, and you have every feel- 

 ing, if not the appearance of the oft quoted "drowned 

 rat." You wouldn't have your wife or other friend see 

 you at this moment for anything. How they would 

 laugh and hurl at you many of your pet quotations re- 

 garding tho " poetry, pleasure and romance of life in the 

 woods," untd you had rather endure another storm than 

 their irony. 



Then the raising of the wet tent iulo position, the re- 

 peated attempts to start the fire, and the holding of every 

 individual fir branch to dry in the flame, before perform- 

 ing the duty of bed. Two forked stick?!, with one across, 

 are placed before the lire, and on them you hang boots, 

 socks, blankets, and other article's of your belongings; 

 and while the guides are cleaning your guns you examine 

 the provision boxes to see if they have escaped the drench- 

 ing. It is amusing how stoical and indifferent one grows 

 to these circumetances in the woods, and soon makes but 

 little of them, retaining as serene and unruffled a dispo- 

 sition as if they were of no account, while after a warm 

 supper and a social pipe they pass from memory, 



I will not weary the reader by a description of the pas- 

 sage of each fall from day to day on our route, some of 

 which we ran and past others we "carried," letting the 

 canoes as before over the difficulties by long ropes from 

 the cliffs above, After passing Spring Brook and Gravel 

 Bed Palls wo paddled through a mile or two of heavy 

 "rips" and entered some two miles of " dead water." 



On turning a beautiful bend in the river, what was our 

 surprise to observe the rugged growth of pines gradually 

 disappear and the landscape immediately softened by the 

 introduction of a dense forest of maple, elm, ash. and 

 noble oak trees, whose gnarled trunks poshed themselves 

 far into the stream, their branches overlooking above 

 our heads forming a canopy that darkened the water. 



Exclamations of surprise rang from our lips as all the 

 canoes in " Indian file" drifted through this enchanting- 

 bower, and we thought to ourselves if in the quiet dress 

 of summer this is so lovely, what must it be when robed in 

 autumnal foliage. Passing the month of big and little 

 Seboois rivers, we pitched our tent on the left bank of 



the river near a place known as Hunt's Farm. Tho soli- 

 tary log-house and barn of Hunt's Farm were erected 

 sonic forty-three years ago, and are located on high 

 ground in a picturesque bend of the Penobscot River. 



The house outside is painted red, whitewashed inside. 

 with low ceilings, similar to the others mentioned. In 

 addition to the. cultivation of land near the house, an at- 

 tempt was made some time ago to press into tillage as a 

 melon patch the side of an adjacent mountain. But the 

 fruit, as soon as they grew heavy and ripened, snapped 

 their hold on the vines, rolled clown the mountain side 

 and were crushed at its base. As can easily be seen, this 

 elevated farm was riot a success ; aud now only tho bright 

 green foliage of a fresh growth of trees is left to tell the 

 melancholy story. Mr." Dunn, who, assisted by three 

 Other p reons, takes care of the place, showed us many 

 attentions, supplying us with fresh milk and sugar and 

 other delicacies that had been foreign to our fare at camp 



for many days. The manufacture of birch canoes a i 



to be one of the industries of ths place, an immense one 

 being then in process of building for a celebrated New 

 York artist, Frederick E. Church, Esq. This canoe was 

 twenty-eight feet long, over four feet wide (midships), and 

 when completed would weigh three hundred pounds. 



The artist had recently purchased four hundred acres 

 of land over on Milinoket Lake, fifteen miles distant, 

 a tributary to the West Branch of the Penobscot River, 

 one of the prettiest sheets of wafer in that vicinity. A 

 fine view of Mount Katahdin can be had from this spot, 

 and men were to leave this farm the following day to 

 ereel Chore substantial log cabins. 



The ascension of Mount Katahdin can with little diffi- 

 culty be made from Hunt's farm, where a convenient 

 ride on horseback lands you within two miles oJ il 3 u 

 I shall not forget the climb of Hunt Mountain, about 

 twelve hundred feet high opposite our camp, nor the mag- 

 nificent view from its peak. 



With Mr. Dunn as guide, in eoinpany with the quarter- 

 master, I started to make the ascent on the morning of 

 August 24th. To clamber up the steep side of a moun- 

 tain in the dense wilderness is an entirely different un- 

 dertaking from the following of a "bridle path" to the top 

 of Mount Washington. Cutting stout poles, seven feet in 

 length, we set off up the mountain side, catching half 

 glimpses of the landscape below, as we swung from tree 

 to free, and rock to rock, which latter hail been made ex- 

 tra slippery by a recent shower, and after two hours of 

 laborious climbing gained the bare but welcome crags at 

 the top. The first sensation of the prospect from the sum- 

 mit, is simply of immensity. The eye sweeps the vast 

 spaces that are bounded only by the haze of distance— 

 one vast undulating sea of forest trees, which seemed to 

 come rolling in to the mountain's base, with only here 

 and there the glimmer of a lake or stream, and little to 

 break the vision save tho farm at your feet, where we 

 could just distinguish the white canvas of our camp. To 

 the left Btreteh successive ranges of hills and mountains, 

 and at their feet could be had momentary glimpses of the 

 windings of the West Branch of the Penobscot, while to 

 our right was its twin brother the East Branch, over 

 which we had so recently passed, its misty tails aud cas- 

 cades subdued to a level with the surrounding landscape. 

 These t,vo streams sweep away to the south twenty miles, 

 and unite in unbroken union at, Mod way on their way to 

 the sea. Before me arose Cue cloud-capped peak rf 

 Mount Katahdin, 5,385 feet high ; V. assataquoik Moun- 

 tain, i,245 feet high; the lolly Traveler aud Sourdns- 

 hunk Mountains, which, with the exception of a i 

 are wooded to their summits. Broad seams or slides aio 

 visible along the surface of old Katahdin, which with its 

 triple peaked outline seemed to look down into the val- 

 leys with a fatherly interest. The thunder clouds had 

 just parted and a beautiful rainbow arched the heavens, 

 shedding its colors on the glistening outlines of valley 

 and mountains. Oh! that we might be left alone tor 

 hours to watch these changes of the landscape, and hear 

 the secret voice and dread revelations of these magnifi- 

 cent mouutains. 



There are thoughts deep and holy which float through 

 one's mind as, gazing down upon such a scene, one con- 

 trasts the smallness of man with the magnitude of Gad's 

 works, and in the weird silence contemplates the perish- 

 able of this world with the everlasting hills. Alter such 

 a prospect of the East Branch and vicinity it almost 

 seems as if we ought to bid adieu to this enchanting river 

 of our narrative, but if the future tourist shall desire to 

 make its acquaintance 1 would like to guide him safely 

 over four other remarkable falls to his journey's end at 

 Mattawamkeag, thirty-two miles below. 



Two miles from Hunt's Farm We came to what is 

 known as Whetstone Falls, a series of high picturesque 

 cascades. Here we made a ahorl portage on the right, 

 hand side of the stream, then shot across and down a 

 very steep pitch of the water close fco the Left bank and 

 landed a portion of our baggage, which we carried to a 

 point below. Then the guides ran the heavier part of the 

 falls, and after passing the quick boiling water at their 

 foot rounded to tho shore and reloaded, the camp kit 

 which we had " sacked " over the ledges at th 

 bank, Then we passed without accident Grinds!/-- 



