I 
[Entered According tp Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by the Forest and Stream Publishing Company, in the Offiae of the librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
Terms, 84 a Year. 10 Ct». a Copy.) 
Six IVIo’s, 82, Three Mo's, 81. f 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY, JANUARY 8, 1880. 
Volume 13-No. 23* 
No. Ill Fulton Street, New York 
JOHN THOMPSON’S RIDE. 
V r UTJN'G John Thompson is riding- down 
Through the woods that skirt the town ; 
The cheerful sunlight around him weaves 
Its fairy tissues iu through the leaves, 
And the waying shadows play and dance 
Wherever the golden arrows glance. 
There was something said by the playful breeze 
To his soul that gave it a sweet heart's-ease: 
A whispered word that the wind let fall, 
Of her who was dearest to him of all— 
So he sang to himself in a pleasant way, 
As he rode to his tryst on that clear June day. - 
The birds sang up iu the trees above. 
The hum of the bees was full of love, 
The flowers smiled as he passed them by, 
And his own heart made them a Boft reply; 
For love and beauty and song are one 
To the thoughts that on Cupid’s errands run. 
A garrulous brook that murmured through 
The moss on which yet hung drops cif dew, 
Went laughingly down the rooks among, 
Where It rippled and prattled the whole day long; 
The same in shadow, the same in sun, 
For sunshine and shade to the loving are one. 
Before him the meadows were fresh and green, 
And the road ran winding along between 
Tall rows of maple and elm and beech. 
Whose branches his hand could almost reach, 
And the white church steeple with gilded vane 
Shone bright at the end of the leafy lane. 
Past the church door and over the hill, 
Across the bridge by the old grist mill, 
He rides and he whistles right merrily, 
As his “ Old Brown” jogs along lazily, 
Till the roadway turns, and he sees beyond 
A glimpse of the farm-house by the pond. 
Under the roses a maiden stands, 
With her blue eyes shaded by her hands, 
And she looks at the turnpike from the town. 
For a certain young man coming down, 
And a glad smile plays on her features fair 
At the sight of the horsemen riding there. 
Although the figure she seance can see, 
She knows in her breast that it is he, 
And under her bodice her little heart 
Sends the blush to her cheek with a sudden start. 
And the tell-tale color pomes and goes 
Like the tint on the leaf of the summor rose. 
Her father’s acres are nothing now; 
Nor the herds of cattle that graze below; 
Nor the well-stored barns, nor the ripening grain. 
Which, when the wind hisses across the plain, 
Like the waves of ocean rise and fall— 
For young John Thompson is more than all. 
And the young man knows it. Therefore he rides 
In quest of the loveliest bride of brides, 
Whose brown eyes won him; whose forehead fair 
Is crowned with a wealth of auburn hair, 
And up from his bosom there comes a sigh, 
When he thinks of the church he has just passed by. 
No panting charger, foam-flecked, he rides. 
To turn the terrible battle tides; 
No hurried warning the midnight fills— 
“The dam has burst—to the hills! to the hills!!" 
For war and disaster from him are far 
As the Southern Cross from the Polar Star. 
As clear as the heaven that bends above— 
Pure as the breath of a snow-white dove— 
Soft as the wind o’er the grass that slips, 
Are the eye and the heart and the orimson lips 
Of her who waited that afternoon 
In the shade of the porch in the month of June. 
No glory wrung from a doubtful strife— 
No threatened danger to limb or life— 
But calm as the water in sylvan shade. 
He passed on his way through the tuneful glade; 
With calm below him and m above, 
Was his soul at rest when ode for love. 
Feanklin W. Fish. 
S e n an Xflke nnd §iver. 
NUMBER V, 
OR miles on our way the next morning the lake 
seemed to be getting gradually shallower. Two or 
three small streams found their way from the hills, but 
they were the veriest brooklets. Occasionally little hays, 
with growths of rushes, reached into the lower shores, 
hinting of wall-eyed pike and pickerel. Now and then we 
would pass a low rocky bluff, and as we went on, the tall 
grass growing a mile from shore would catch the paddles 
and the sandy bottom would come so close to the canoe as 
to threaten our further progress. When we reached the 
most northerly point of the lake the water became so low 
and shallow that the men waded ashore, pulling the. 
canoes to some boulders, of which we made stepping 
stones to the land. We estimated this point to be latitude 
50 deg. 35 min., with a possible error of two or three 
minutes. The country lying back of the lake to the west 
and north "was low, but gradually rose inland. To the 
east the shores looked high and rocky. 
About four iniles to the southeast of the point where 
we landed we came abreast of the mouth of quite a large 
river, whose dark waters reddened the lake for miles. 
Looking up the stream, its banks were lined with trunks 
and roots of large trees,' and within sight a pile of drift 
wood extended from bank to bank. Its evidently dan¬ 
gerous navigation had no charms for us, and Wassy's ac¬ 
count of an ascent made a few years before did not lead to 
a desire to explore it. “ It was full of pickerel (Ogah),” 
he said, “ and two hard days to get to the falls.” So, 
whether wisely or not, we passed it by, and in a few 
miles of southeasterly course we came to a long low 
point of smooth granite rock, reaching out towards a 
large island, behind which we, for die first time since we 
passed them, lost sight of the “ Two J3arns.” A heavy 
swell came in from the south, butas our afternoon course 
lay for the most part behind some islands we did not heed 
it. Although the sea came from the south, the breeze 
seemed to be coming from the northwest, and we began 
to fear we should hardly be able to Cross Ombabika Bay 
tliat night. Our afternoon sail was delightful. Wetried 
fly and spoon in vain between the islands, and in crossing 
tne small bays that here and there lay between the spurs 
of the increasing hills. Land and water seemed desti¬ 
tute of animal life, save a solitary blue heron, at which 
we tried an ineffectual shot, and a white-bodied eagle 
or osprey which flew over us. We passed the narrow 
strait between the lake and the great bay, and almost 
before we were aware of it the “ traverse” was right 
before us. A high mountain with inaccessible front was 
at our right, and the long stretch of twelve miles of 
water up to the northwest to our left, was bounded by 
high and forbidding hills, and terminated by still higher 
land. Past the mountain the bay extended southeast 
for four or tive mile3. The chop seas close by the moun¬ 
tain were neither safe nor pleasant, and though the white 
caps were rather threatening, we pushed on towards 
some low islands lying near the further shore. The clay 
color of the water, so different from anything hereto¬ 
fore seen in the lake, revealed the shallow depth as well 
as the character of the bottom of the bay, and a sound¬ 
ing nearly two miles from land did not surprise us when 
it showed a depth of only thirteen feet. And even here 
tall grass grew to the surface, though not in thick masses. 
The thermometer showed a temperature of 65 deg. when 
immersed in the water, and in Ombabika river of 
68 deg. 
We camped at the fall a half mile from the mouth of 
the river, taking a few wall-eyed pike on our way up. 
An Indian camp which we had passed lower down"soon 
sent up a deputation, which brought a line fifteen pound 
muskalonge, taken in a gill net just in the entrance of the 
river. In the morning, after trying for trout, we started 
out, but could get no further than one of the islands near 
by, as the wind which had kept up all night made pro¬ 
gress dangerous if not impossible. Trying our spoons in 
the river for pastime that evening, we took in half an 
hour thirty wall-eyed pike averaging over three pounds 
each. 
The island upon which we stopped had been the place 
of a hunter’s camp the preceding winter, and we found 
upon it a roll of birch bark containing a fur cap and a 
set of dog harness and bells, left there for his return in 
the fall. A voluble half-breed speaking only the Indian 
tongue had the camp near by. He had more than the 
usual thrift, and boaBted his good wall tent and two or 
three birch bark wigwams, as well as rejoiced in his 
three -wives and numerous children and dependents, in¬ 
cluding what sounded like a score of dogs. He seemed 
to want for nothing, but was not above taking a square 
meal with his newly-made friends. He was bound up 
the river to St. Martin’s Falls on the Albany River, which 
empties into Hudson’s Bay. 
The height of land or water shed between the St. Law¬ 
rence, or lake system, and Hudson’s Bay, is about fifty or 
sixty miles from where we w-ere, with practicable canoe 
navigation and portages, but which is not much used of 
late years. 
It was afternoon of the next day that we left Omba¬ 
bika River and Bay. We had been nearly two days 
windbound. Passing through the narrow strait, we took 
our way south along the rocky coast, following closely tie 
line of the shore, so as to take advantage of every pro¬ 
jecting point which sheltered us from the sea and south¬ 
erly wind. The islands along the east coast are less 
numerous than on the west, and lay further from the 
main shore. The central portion of the lake is most 
thickly studded with islands, to judge from mere appear¬ 
ances. How many there are only an accurate survey 
could determine. At any time we" could count, looking 
out from the shore, from thirty to fifty plainly to be dis¬ 
tinguished. 
We camped that night on a beautiful projecting point 
of open land which had been used the preceding winter 
for an Indian camp. The poles of several wigwams were 
still standing, and the skulls of various animals were 
hung to the trees or stuck upon the the tops of tall sticks 
planted in the ground as trophies of the hunt. The 
frame of the “sweat house” was left, and within it the 
stone's last used to raise a vapor bath. But it seemed 
that this simple remedy had not proved efficacious, for 
just within touch of one of the wigwams was the rude 
temporary tomb where the remains of the dead had been 
left until the milder season admitted an earth burial. It 
was an enclosure about five and a half by two feet, and 
two and a half feet high, with a gabled roof, built and 
covered with logs notched and fitted so tightly together 
that wild animals could not penetrate it. A bed of fir 
boughs lay on the ground within, and the smaller logs 
across the top had been covered with the same material. 
An early start the next morning was none too early, 
for by the time we reached the long point which pro¬ 
jects southward, forming a deep bay separated from 
Ombabika Bay by only three or four miles of low land, 
the sea had become so heavy that we passed it with diffi¬ 
culty, and hurried into the shelter of some islands. It 
was at this place we saw the large trout I have previously 
mentioned. 
From here to Poplar Lodge River the scenery was 
varied and picturesque. The bold shores and rocky is¬ 
lands were like those of the west coast of the lake, except 
that the hills were not so verdant, nor the timber as 
large. In many places the white granite rocks, from 
which, even the moss had been swept by devastating 
fires, were the most marked feature. Poplar Lodge Kiver 
is quite a large red stream of 68 deg. to 70 deg. tempera¬ 
ture, and has its rise in the height of land between Nepi- 
gon and Long lakes. In the old times of rivalry in trade 
there had been a post here, the buildings of which we 
visited, but as they did not offer the comforts of a tent, 
we camped lower down near the lake, taking on our way 
back a few pike for our suppers. There were numerous 
fox tracks on the sandy beach, and Wassy said it was fine 
trapping ground in the winter. We were now about fifty 
or fifty-five miles east by south, of Nepigon House, and 
the great island where we had rested on our upward trip 
lay between, in plain view. 
I wish I were able to describe the glories of the next 
day, so that the reader of these sketches might have a 
faint imagining of the wonders of the lake and sky as 
they appeared to us. We left the river about nine o’clock 
in the forenoon, intending to make twelve or fifteen 
miles, so thatanother half day’s work would bringusto the 
place where the lake finds Us outlet over Nepigon Falls. 
Since the day we reached Nepigon House the barometer 
had not once been above twenty-nine inches, and as may 
be surmised, we had met with frequent storms. But this 
day a slight upward change from last evening, and a 
morning air so transparent that islands miles away 
looked so near we felt we could almost touch them, led 
us to the hope of one whole calm, bright day before we 
left the lake. The wind was light, and off the land-a 
“ lee wind” Louis called it. About 11 o’clock groups of 
cumulus or summer clouds began to appear, and in half 
an hour extended their regular forms clear across the 
heavens, flecking the breeze, touched water, and darken¬ 
ing the verdure of the hills and islands with their 
moving shadows. They seemed to radiate from a cloudless 
open point in the east, and probably from the perspective 
they appeared ranged in coltimns, like white-plumed bat¬ 
talions of a great army, marching on either sides of us 
in review, or like finely-wrought lace-work, with open 
spaces containing the sky. The line of clear blue along 
winch the columns seemed to inarch extended Horn the 
east over and beyond us, until, far down in the west, they 
gathered in dense masses, shutting out the sky from 
sight. Such a scene upon canvas would be called unreal, 
but it was a reality, notwithstanding. For an hour we 
