[Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by the Forest and Stream Publishing Company, in the Office ot the librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
Ss^ 1 N EWYORK, THURSDAY, JANUARY 15,1880. 
J Volume 13—No. 24. 
| No. Ill Fulton Street, New York 
Jpe jfas/ ^ ranch ofj the ffenohscai 
TWO HUNDRED MILES THROUGH MAINE IN A. CANVAS CANOE. 
T HE seeker l’or health or recreation in Maine, who 
desires to study nature in its primeval state, and 
drink from her fountains the blessings which she can so 
bountifully bestow, has three routes of travel before him. 
These routes are known as the St. John’s River, the West 
Branch of the Penobscot, and the East Branch of the 
Penobscot trips, and have for their point of departure the 
Kineo House, Moosehead Lake, where all that is neces¬ 
sary in camp supplies can always be obtained. The 
most frequented route, and on account of its ease gen¬ 
erally recommended by the guides, is that to the St. 
John’s River, which one readies by passing north from 
Moosehead Lake through the West Branch, Chesuncook, 
Chamberlin, Eagle, and Churchill Lakes to Allegash 
River, and thenoe northeast through Canada, emerging 
from the woods at Great Palls, New Brunswick. The 
second, or the West Brandi of the Penobscot trip, passes 
south east t hrough Chesuncook to Ripogenus Lake, and 
follows the West Branch of the Penobscot River through 
Pamedomcook and Twin Lakes into the Penobscot River. 
The third and most difficult course through this wilder¬ 
ness, is the tour of the East Branch of the Penobscot, 
which leaves the St. John’s route at Chamberlin Lake, 
and passes south through Telosurie Lake, and then east 
through Telos and Webstei Lake and River to the Mata- 
gamonsis and Matagammon, or Grand Lake, into the East 
Branch, and after tumbling over the most picturesque 
falls and rapids in the entire State, unites with the West 
Branch of the Penobscot at Medway. 
To retain my good health, and enjoy, for the fifth sea¬ 
son, the dearly loved woods and lakes of Maine, the sum¬ 
mer of 1879 soon found me again within her fascinations, 
a willing captive to her charms. We have never failed, 
in the past, to impress upon our friends that one com¬ 
panion is sufficient for company in the woods, but this 
year, the party, although it hail small beginnings, in¬ 
creased in the ratio of the demands of my tastes As 
gathered upon the deck of the little steamer Day 
Dream, one bright summer morning, while on her way 
from the Kineo House to the head of Moosehead Lake, 
we numbered six souls. I had chosen for my route this 
year the East Branch of the Penobscot River, a canoe 
paddle of almost two hundred miles, as offering in its 
swift running streams, lovely waterfalls and majestic 
mountains that excitement and adventure which my 
love of nature craved. In addition to the writer, the 
party was divided aB follows: quartermaster photo¬ 
graphic artist, and three guides, named, respectively, 
Bowley, Weller and Morris. My friend who is designated 
as Quartermaster did not receive his title from any such 
position in my expedition, but from bolding an office of 
like character in a New England regiment during the 
late war; and be proved, by the daily use of his knife in 
arranging the comforts of the camp, that he was to the 
manor born. Our Artist was from the “land of steady 
habits," whose sole duty it was to care for the safety of 
the delicate camera and glass plates, together with the 
necessary but ill favored bottles of his kit, and to be con¬ 
stantly on the alert for choice or grand bits of scenery 
along our route. 
The first and. oldest of the guides, Bowley, was a man 
of forty-eight years, and lived at Shirley, Maine. He 
was five aud one-half feet high, weighed one hundred 
and ninety pounds, had brown whiskers turning to gray, 
checkered shirt, weather-beaten suit, soft brown bat, and 
a kind, sympathetic face, which I found, before the trip 
was ended, truly expressed bis manly character. I was 
sometimes inclined to think him slow, and to find fault 
with the consumptive color of his biscuit and “ flipjacks,” 
and urged him to greater diligence and variety in the 
cooking department, but in matters of importance he 
always proved liis soundness—but he bad one fault ; he 
could scent a “ carry” three days ahead, and remember 
its hardships and burdens two days after. He delighted 
to tell of his many interesting experiences in the wilder¬ 
ness, and of his geological researches through Maine 
some years ago, with Professor Hitchcock of Amherst 
College. His moose, bear and caribou stories were end¬ 
less. Tine second guide, Weller, aged thirty-seven years, 
was a French Canadian from Quebec, but living in Green¬ 
ville, Maine. He was five feet four inches high, weighed 
one hundred ahd fifty-one pounds, with reddish mous¬ 
tache and whiskers, brown hair, and wore a dark-colored 
woolen suit. He was a fine waterman, and occasionally 
Witty, as is proverbial with his class. The third and last 
guide. Morris, was a vivacious young man of twenty- 
three summers, but who looked all of thirty. He -was 
about five feet three inches high, weighed one hundred 
and sixty pounds, had light brown hair and moustache. 
Dark blue flannel shirt, and woolen pants constituted his 
habiliments, which latter garment early in the day 
proved its inferiority by sundry tears, which gave him a 
picturesque appearance highly appreciated by our artist. 
A black felt hat was the crowning.feature of his Attire, 
around which was wound “casts” of varied colored 
artificial trout flies. He was the most venturesome 
canoeman of the party, ever first to try the dangers of 
the many waterfalls and cataracts on our route. Morris 
was also the hunter, and many a plump duck and part¬ 
ridge found its way to our table through Iris activity 
Our personal belongings were numerous, consisting of 
woolen and rubber blankets, rubber wading stockings, 
moccasin shoes, fly rods, guns, landing nets, a lantern, 
and the very necessary black fly ointment, consisting of 
oil of tar, glycerine, gum camphor, and oil of penny¬ 
royal. We also had extra ohanges of underclothiug, 
woolen stockings, buckskin suits, and an assortment of 
tools, waxed ends, and silk thread for the repairs of 
broken fly rods. 
The number of weapons composing our armory was 
one Sharps, one Ballard, and one magazine rifle, one 88 
calibre revolver, and a double-barrel shot-gun, which also 
contained two auxiliary rifle barrels. Each man also 
carried the usual long sheath knife, which latter article 
was never drawn in a more deadly conflict than that be 
tween hard-tack and salt pork; nevertheless it was often 
a trial which brought into play the most heroic qualities 
of the arm. These made us at once feel invincihle 
against, the attack of any wild beasts, while, at the same 
time, it encouraged such hopes of success in the capture 
of wild animals, that it even troubled the nightly rest of 
some of the members of the expedition. Three birch- 
bark canoes, and one Osgood portable folding canvas 
canoe, constituted our ships of burden, which exerted 
great influence in exploring the wilds, and added to the 
enjoyment of its pleasures. 
How much poetry and romance, the words birch-bark 
canoe suggest to our min d. The grand old forests have 
more tender associations when one is paddled through 
their lights and shadows in a birch canoe. There are 
thoughts and reveries which make themselves felt as one 
examines their construction—a natural fitness of things 
to the regions in which they are used, The delicate col¬ 
ored bark stripped from a prominent tree, is cut at the 
ends, and gathered up into uniform bow and stem, 
cut and then brought together again at the sides alter¬ 
nately, to lift the lines fore and aft. This gives a surface 
to meet the waves, producing that buoyancy so pleasing 
in the craft. Then a gunwale of strips of wood is affixed 
sewed with spruce roots or rattan, and the whole lined 
from stem to stem with thin strips of wood called 
“knees.” A birch canoe will weigh from eiglity-five to 
one hundred and fifteen pounds, when averaging eighteen 
to twenty feet, but I have occasionally seen those that 
weighed three times that amount, and had a longitude of 
twenty-eight to thirty feet. My portable canvas-canoe, 
made for this Bpecial oocasion, was fifteen feet long, with 
a weight of only twenty-five pounds, when the fish-rod- 
like stretcher was inserted. This canoe could be collapsed 
at a moment's notice, placed in a bag 17x38 inches, and 
carried on the shoulders with ease by one person, while it 
would float eight hundred and fifty pounds. Before the 
month’s journey was completed, I found I could leap 
falls and rapids more safely than in a birch-bark canoe, 
and, although I Often paid for my audacity by cutting its 
surface, it was easily sewed and water-proofed, aud I 
continued on my way. On account of its convenient con¬ 
struction and weight, it could be easily transported 
through the woods to the small bodies of water off our 
main course, and explorations made not accessible to a 
birch canoe. 
As we were to pass through a country uninhabited, we 
were obliged to provide ourselves from the start with 
food sufficient for the entire thirty days’ sojourn ; and it 
may be interesting to the reader to know the quantity 
and variety of the supplies, should he ever undertake a 
similar enterprise. We did not rely upon the game or 
fish of the country we were canoeing. Like excursions 
in the past had taught us that these articles were more 
incidental surprises than an excess of the daily menu. 
Very few tourists to Maine select this, the hardest of 
of routes, and we found afterwards that we were the 
first party who had passed down the East Branch of the 
Fenobscot River during the year 1879. A ••camp appe¬ 
tite ” is something entirely different from what one en¬ 
joys at home. One would turn in aversion from the 
plainess of the fare, were it placed on the table. But the 
surroundings, and the daily vigorous exercise, seemed to 
make us forget the homely dishes, and articles refused at 
our own boards are devoured in the woods with avidity. 
Most of the provisions were packed into wooden pails of 
various sizes, the balance in canvas bags, aud were as¬ 
sorted as follows : 34 lbs. of hard tack; 73 lbs. of flour ; 
1 bushel of potatoes ; 13 lbs. of salt pork ; 4 lbs. of beans ; 
3 packages of baking powders ; 31 lbs. of cheese ; 10 lb3. 
of ham; 3 lbs. of candles; 1 bottle eaoh of piekles and 
chow-chow ; 3 cans of potted ham; 7J lbs. of onions ; 
12 lbs. of canned corned beef; 6 lbs. of maple sugar; 
1 dozen cans of condensed milk ; 3 lbs. of tea: 7 lbs. of 
coffee : and 13 lbs. of granulated sugar, besides a quart of 
oil for our lantern, which latter article was one of the 
most useful of the lot. Sugar, eirher maple or granu¬ 
lated, always disappears in the woods at an early date, 
and the immense quantities of luscious blueberries and 
blackberries to be bad at any time along our route, 
greatly facilitated its departure. Our canoes, when packed 
with all the above articles, and further embellished by 
sundry tea and coffee pots, kettles, frying pans, broilers, 
bakers, tin plates and cups, reminded one of the early 
days of our forefathers, and their pilgrimages to the 
“ Far West." The country towards which we had set our 
faces was entirely new to tourists, and but one of our 
guides (Weller) bad ever explored its hidden depths, and 
even his memory was so treacherous as to be of little ser¬ 
vice to us. Recently issued maps were very faulty, and 
we were obliged to make many corrections on them, and 
fabricate the geography as we sailed along. 
On Teaching the head of Moosehead Lake our many 
boxes and bags just enumerated were transferred to the 
sadly dilapidated wharf at the northeast “carrv,” and 
afterwards removed by the guides to a heavy lumber box 
wagon, drawn by a single horse, while the birch canoes, 
supported by long poles, were lashed at the sides of the car t, 
Our artist, to secure his photographic materials againBt 
harm, rode in front with the driver, but the writer, in 
company with the Quartermaster and guides, trudged 
along in the sand at the rear. 
This “carry," or path, is about two miles long, rising 
gradually towards the middle from each end, and termi¬ 
nates on the north at the West Branch of the Penobscot 
River. There are log houses where one can obtain din¬ 
ners at either end of this portage, but as our guide, Mor¬ 
ris, lived at the farther point our party chose to lunch at 
his house, and our recollections of his mother’s preserved 
strawberries, fresh cream and bread are alive to this 
hour. After dinner we immediately betook ourselves to 
the river's bank, launched the birch canoes, stretched 
the canvas canoe into shape, and balancing the crafts to 
a nicety with our baggage, swung off down the stream 
for a month’s exploration of the inmost heart of Maine. 
One well knows the delights attendmg a pic-nic in the 
woods for a day. Arising at early morn and carefully 
stowing away in baskets sundry choice and toothsome 
articles, and filling the covers of the basket with beauti¬ 
ful bright flowers from our gardens, we resorted to the 
woods, and dividing into groups under the shady trees, 
we spread on temporary tables the savory dishes, and 
strove to the best of our ability to get in sympathy with 
nature. But think of a month’s pic-nic, daily filled with 
excitement and pleasure, from running rapids and falls 
in a canoe to enticing the wary trout or picking strange 
flowers and berries by the brookside, and at night resting 
one’s tired but invigorated body under a snow white tent, 
The West Branch of tile Penobscot (or Rocky River), after 
leaving the terminus of the northeast carry at Morris’s, 
flows steadily to the southeast with hardly a ripple for 
some two miles, until it reaches the mouth of Lobster 
Stream. Then a stronger current is perceptible, with 
“ rips,” and this continues for two and a half miles more, 
when, after passing a small island, the water again be¬ 
comes “dead." The birobbarks, paddled byguides Weller 
aud Morris, preceded us down the river, while the Quar¬ 
termaster and I followed in the canvas canoe, the fourth 
canoe, with guide Bowley and the Artist, bringing up the 
rear. 
Could there have been a looker-on from the shore he 
would have possibly thought it was a Government expe¬ 
dition in Search of the northeast passage, but although 
Our destination was about as little frequented, it was not 
so grave an affair. After paddling until late in the after¬ 
noon through eight or ten miles of still water, we made 
our first camp on the right bank of the river, at the 
month of the MoOsehorn Stream, and transferring our 
kit to the shore, turned over our canoes in the sun to dry. 
Thomas Sedgwick Steele. 
(To be Continued.) 
# THE BLUE GILL CAMPAIGN. 
T HE Blue Gill Club is composed of six paying mem¬ 
bers, limited by tlmir constitution to that number. 
We, being congenial in spirit, have refused applications 
for membership for fear that a seventh paying member 
might be a drone and put us in the hands of a receiver, 
which we so far have avoided, for we all pay and work 
alike—no grumbling. Our 1879 oampaign was the fifth 
since our organization, We have a constitution and by¬ 
laws, and proper officers ; funds go into the hands of one 
member, who is secretary und treasurer, who purchases 
and pays for everything necessary for a trip, including 
tickets and freight, and attends to the prucuremmt of 
special rates and favors. We have also a commissary, 
who is a first-class cook ; lie is one of us and very valua¬ 
ble. being a carpenter by trade and a tip-top jack of all 
trades ; he can tie all tlie knots aud make the splices of 
an old tar ; his expenses are all paid for his services. We 
