([Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 18T9, by the Forest and Stream Publishing Company, in the Oflloe of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.! 
T W*WS.:ri NEW YORK, THURSDAY, JANUARY 22, 1880, 
Volunie 13—No, 35* 
No. Ill Fulton Street, New York 
7 §nmch of the fflmobscof, 
'.TWO HUNDRED MILES THEOUGtH MAINE IN A CANVAS CANOE. 
A DESCRIPTION of our first camp in the woods wifi 
acquaint the reader with the arrangement of the 
many after, and make him familiar with the picture 
<of our daily surroundings. 
Our wall tent, 10x12 feet, was soon unfolded,and select¬ 
ing a prominent point of the high hank which com¬ 
manded the river, we immediately set about cutting the 
three necessary poles oa which to erect it. We trimmed 
all projecting twigs from the ridge and front upright 
poles, but left them on the rear one, that we might make 
it useful on which to hang cups, belts, candlesticks and 
lanterns. Here the Quartermaster’s whittlingpropensity 
■came in use, and another pole was notched by him and 
pressed into service inside the last, which served as a 
rack for our guns and rods. 
Great care was taken that the notches which held the 
ridge-pole were not too long, or they would tear the tent, 
and that the angles of,the roof should accommodate sur¬ 
passing shower. Then we cat short pins from the white 
birches, and with the ropes at the sides soon (hew the 
tent into position. While Bowley (our cook) was making 
bread and coffee, flying salt pork and trout for our even¬ 
ing’s repast, the resounding blows of Waller's axe could 
be heard iu the forest, gathering logs for the camp fire, and 
Morris was cutting fir boughs for the historic camp-bed. 
It is wonderful how comfortable a bed this makes, while 
its delightful, health-giving odor is so invigorating to the 
system. Our table outside the tent was usually made of 
four forked sticks, on which we put others crosswise, and 
on these we laid splits of wood; and for seats, rolled 
into position a convenient log, or used the many wooden 
pails containing our provisions. On rainy days we sat 
on the ground in the tent, and used these pails of various 
sizes and heights as an extension table, smiling to think 
liow easily we could conform to any condition in the 
woods. At the head of the tent a choice position was 
given to our photographer’s camera and chemicals, to¬ 
gether with our travelling bags, rifles, cartridge boxes 
and books, while at our feet was distributed the pails of 
provisions and heavier part of our ‘‘ kit.” About one and 
a half feet was allowed to each man for sleeping accom¬ 
modations, an imaginary line only dividing off the guides, 
we being arranged somewhat similar to sardines in a box 
—only our heads were all in one direction. Immediately 
after leaving camp the next morning we entered 
tiie “ rips,” or rough water of the ri ver. For about ten 
miles there was little necessity of paddling, the velocity 
of the stream sweeping us along without extra effort. 
These last few miles were very exciting, as following in 
the wake of the birch canoes, we guided our canvas craft 
past boulders and sunken rocks, while the guides, con¬ 
stantly on the alert for our welfare, shouted or waved 
their hands to warn us of dangerous places. 
Passing close to the bank on the left of the boisterous 
water, we shot the Pine Stream Falls, and soon rested in 
the foamy waters below, where our Artist at once im¬ 
mortalized the party. The amount of strength and ac¬ 
tivity displayed by the guides in handling their canoes 
past falls and rapids is astonishing. With their slender 
“ Betting poles, ".eleven feet in length, armed at one end 
with a sharp iron spike of six inches, they will steer the 
canoe with unerring certainty, or hold it quivering in 
■waters that would seem to engulf it. 
A hasty lunoh, and we soon reached the mouth of the 
easi branch (eighteen miles from the Northeast Carry), 
where a sceue of special beauty burst upon us in the 
white-capped waves of Chesuncook Lake and distant view 
of Mount Katahain and the Sourdnahunk range. Pad¬ 
dling across the head of Chesuncook Lake, which is 
seventeen miles in length and three miles in width, we 
passed the mouth of Caucomgomoc Stream, and entered 
the UmbazooksuB River. We had hardly recovered from 
the exertion in crossing the lake when we espied in the 
tall meadow grass on the bank of the stream a large 
j mu. bear, who, j standing on his hind legs, nodded an 
approving welcome. The quickness with which he 
dropped on his four feet and plunged into the thicket, 
gave us little opportunity to return Ins compliments with 
our rifles. 
Another camp, and the next day we passed in safety 
the Umbazooksus Stream and Lake, and at 8 a. m. ar¬ 
rived at the long-dreaded Mud Pond Carry. This path 
through the woods to Mud Pond is a little over two' miles 
long, and is detested by tourists, and execrated by the 
glides. Many weeks before my departure for Maine I 
lad been accosted by a friend (who had made the 
St. John’s trip), and asked to give him, on my return, 
the full particulars of my experience on this “ carry.” 1 
was not, therefore, taken by surprise, but was prepared 
to meet it manfully on its own ground, and fight the 
battle to the best of my ability. 
I had provided myself for this special undertaking with 
long rubber wading pants, or stockings, reaching to my 
hips, and further incased mv feet in a heavy pair of can¬ 
vas hob-nailed shoes ; the latter I also found useful in 
wading streams. Even while selecting our provisions at 
the Kineo House, this and that luxury had been debated 
upon or withdrawn as an article too heavy for trans¬ 
portation on Mud Pond Carry. Its obstacles to our 
senses had also been made prominent by the daily con¬ 
versation of the guides, and our imaginations of that 
gulf greatly awakened. On reaching the portage the 
canoes were drawn ashore, turned over to dry, goods re¬ 
moved, and each one selecting what he could support, we 
started off, Indian file, to make the best of the difficulties. 
On the right-hand side of the path, within a few rods of 
the Umbazooksus Lake, will be found a cool and refresh¬ 
ing stream of water, at which we quenched our thirst. 
At first tbe path was dry, and only occasional pools of 
water, easily turned, interrupted our advance. But soon 
the pools grew thicker and thicker, lengthening to 
greater extent than before, and with our loads on our 
backs we plunged forward, sinking time and time again 
to our knees in the soft muddy water. It makes a deal of 
difference, the nature and position of the load on one's 
back, and whether it is steady in its position or has a 
shifting propensity. I have known a pair of oars dodg¬ 
ing about on one’s shoulders to be heavier and more in¬ 
convenient than five times that burden in guns and am¬ 
munition. I had selected as the task for my left shoulder 
my shot gun, and attaching to it, a broiler, coffee-pot. 
gridiron and other impedimenta of camp and cooking 
utensils, detailed to the right a bag of 200 shot and rifle 
cartridges. Picture not only one but six man so loaded, 
forcing their way through the. muddy path, slipping and 
floundering, first on one side and then on the other, un¬ 
der the conglomerated load of “ camp kit.” An opening 
in the dark, hot woods, half wayacross, and our burdens 
are lowered to the ground, to return to the lake for an, 
other cargo. A lunch, and on we go another mile, when 
the branches lock closer and closer about us, making our 
load seem double its weight, until with joy we discover 
from a slight elevation at the end of the’ “carry’’the 
tranquil surface of Mud Pond. A portion of this course 
is evidently at some seasons of the year the head of a 
brook, and tbe writer found in a small isolated pool of 
water, only a foot square, a lively trout four inches in 
length. 
Our guides told liow, during some months of the year, 
they had dragged then boats two-thirds of the way across, 
remarking that the only dry part this year was the tem¬ 
perate way in which they were treated. 
The canoes on tbe guides shoulders were the last loads 
to cross, and as it was now 6 P.M., one can make some 
estimate of the work done, seeing we had only accom¬ 
plished two miles that day. 
Launcliing our canoes oh Mud Pond, some two miles in 
width, of uninteresting scenery, we bent our remaining 
energies to the reciprocating paddle, and were soon on 
the other side and canoeing the sluggish waters of Mud 
Pond Stream. Its mouth was clogged by great weather¬ 
beaten logs, which necessitated the laborious use of our 
axes before forcing a passage into Chamberlain Lake. The 
sun was hardly half an hour above the horizon as we 
crossed this beautiful lake, two-and-a-half miles to the op¬ 
posite shore, and camped on its white pebbly beach at the 
foot of a farm. This was the only one of three habita¬ 
tions which we saw on our trip, and the delight which 
we experienced was as great as the recovery of a lost 
trail in the woods by the tourist mentioned in the folio w- 
ing incident: A brother angler, while on a lonesome path 
in this very neighHbrhood, found one day a piece of birch 
bark nailed to a tree on which was inscribed these famil¬ 
iar lines: 
” This is ffie war 1 long have sought. 
And mourned because I foimdlt not.” 
Chamberlain Farm consisted of one log house, eight or 
ten bams, and about three hundred acres of cleared land, 
if, where in some portions you can jump from stump to 
stump may be called “ cleared land.” The buildings are 
situated on a hill fronting the lake and command a view 
of the greater part of the water. Mr. Nutting (who with 
his three sons has charge of the farm.) is six feet high, 
straight .as an Indian, with heavy high cheek bones, 
black moustache, and his face is thoroughly tanned 
by exposure to tbe sun. The farm with others in this 
vicinity is owned by Messrs. Coe & Pingree, of Bangor. 
Maine,’ who possess vast tracks of this wilderness, which 
they lumber and pass the result of their efforts to the 
markets along the coast of the State, During the sum¬ 
mer months the product of the farm is gathered into the 
barns aud is used to feed the hundreds of “log drivers,” 
who, in the winter and spring are anuually sent to this 
region. These “loggers” are a hardy set of men, re¬ 
ceiving §1.50 a day when “ on the drive,” and work from 
3 a.m. to 10 p.m., often exposed to great perils and the in¬ 
clemency of the weather. Large herds of cattle and 
sheep are pastured here, and on the hill at the rear of tbe 
house 1 noticed a number of mules. The two-story log 
house in which resides Mr. Nutting, is painted an Indian 
red, and has the only embellishment of any of the build¬ 
ings. The interior is whitewashed and has three rooms 
on a floor. Tire room into which our party was ushered 
had low ceilings of heavy logs, blackened by age and 
smoke from the big square toon stove, which held indis¬ 
putable possession of the centre of the apartment. In 
one comer was a great box containing wood, which also 
served as a bed when other accommodations were not 
available. From the ceiling, hardly seven feet high, was 
arranged the clothes line, on which hung a portion of the 
week's washing, while the floor was made of logs with 
enough openiugs between them to admit plenty of fresh 
air. Artistic taste had not been wanting in the decora¬ 
tion of the log walls, and engravings cut from illustrated 
papers were tacked thereon, while in a prominent posi¬ 
tion was hung the portrait of a late unsuccessful candi¬ 
date for Presidential honors. Rough shelves nailed to the 
sides of the walls between two windows supported a roll 
of old papers, a Webster’s Dictionary, National Fifth 
Reader,Greenleaf’s Arithmetic.aud a Bible and Testament, 
while at their side hung a mirror and the family hair¬ 
brush and comb. But the most novel article in the room 
was a fly-trap, which, although it displayed the inventive 
genius of the locality, can hardly have its model on the 
many shelves of the Patent Office. This fly-trap hung 
from the ceiling near the stove, and was manufactured 
from two shingles fastened together at the butts like an 
inverted A. On the inside was spread molasses, and as 
fast as the insects became interested in its sweets, it was 
the duty of the passer-by to slap the boards together and 
destroy their contents. In addition to superintending this 
farm and stock, it is the duty of Mr. Nutting to provide 
for the various logging camps in the neighborhood, and 
to watch for the first indication of fires wliose destructive 
lower in the pine forests he fully realizes. Chamberlain 
_,ake, on which we had pitched our tent, is fifteen miles 
long and three miles wide. It has an area of twenty 
square miles, is 1,134 feet above tide water, contains a 
number of islands, and took its name from an unfortu¬ 
nate man lost some years since on its shores. Years ago 
a large dam was built at its northern outlet into Eagle 
Lake, and the water driven back south through an arti¬ 
ficial cut between Telos and Webster Lakes, thus enab¬ 
ling the lumberman to “ drive ” his logs to a home mar¬ 
ket, through the East Branch of the Penobscot River, in¬ 
stead of by the St. J ohn’s route to the foreign one of New 
Brunswick. It costs §50 a ton to transport supplies to 
this farm, and flour can be purchased here at §19 a 
barrel. 
After our labors on Mud Pond Carry we rested here 
three days, taking photographs of the scenery and mak¬ 
ing excursions to the dams between Chamberlain and 
Eagle Lakes, where we found plenty of exercise for our 
trout rods. We also “sacked" our canvas canoe across 
the hills on the east to Indian Pond, in search of wild 
ducks and trout, but were only rewarded bv a study of 
natural history, which seldom happens to the forest lover. 
Our discoverv was a family of loons, or the great Amer¬ 
ican diver, a "bird the size of a goose, and the finest on 
inland Northern waters, it could be honestly said “ they 
lived in flats,” as their rough nest, composed of sticks 
and moss a foot in height, and two feet in width, rested 
on a flat, sandy knoll which stretched out into the water. 
Against the unmistakable dislike of the parent birds, I 
paddled to the front door of their house, and gazing in, 
discovered a recently hatched bird and one egg, The 
egg was dark brown, spotted with black, eight and seven- 
eighth inches at the longest, and seven and one-quarter 
at the shortest circumference. The young bird had every 
appearance of a gosling, with down of a greyish black, 
and did not seem in the least annoyed as I stroked its 
glossy coat. Withdrawing my canoe and creeping qui¬ 
etly back into the .thicket, I enjoyed the lesson in frog 
catching taught tire young one by the old birds, and I 
left them undisturbed in then* happiness. It was with 
great reluctance we broke camp early on the morning of 
August 12th, rolled our tent, and arranging our kit in 
tbe canoes, paddled out into Chamberlain Lake, and bid 
farewell to the scenes around which clustered so many 
pleasant memories. 
The fresh milk, butter, and eggs of the farm were a 
happy relief to our regular fare of salt pork and hard¬ 
tack,’while the fresh straw winch Mr. Nutting so kindly 
offered^uB from his bams, added greatly to our comfort, 
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