A COON AND SOME YAMS. 



ELLIOT C. BROWN. 



There were 4 of us, Will, who was the 

 host, Fred, Jimmy and I. We had agreed 

 to have one more coon hunt before sepa- 

 rating for the winter. 



We called on one of Will's neighbors 

 who promised to give us some good sport 

 that night. Eight o'clock found us gath- 

 ered — equipped with clubs, axes and lan- 

 terns — in front of our friend's house, with 

 2 negroes who had volunteered their ser- 

 vices and the use of their dogs. 



Mine host's friend was famous, the 

 country round, for some yams he had, and 

 equally famous for his stinginess. I will 

 tell you what yams are, in case you have 

 not had the pleasure of eating any. They 

 are like the sweet potato of the North only 

 5 times better. They are juicy, and as 

 sweet as honey. 



This man's yams were especially fine, 

 and were planted about 100 yards from 

 his house; the field opening back to the 

 woods. 



Being all ready, we started to the woods 

 and had not gone far when the dogs gave 

 tongue. What a chase they led us! Over 

 logs, through bushes of all kinds, and into 

 swamp after swamp. At last they treed 

 the coon and we came breathlessly up and 

 gathered around. 



" Abe," said one of the negroes, " go up 

 an' shak' dat coon out of dat dere tree," 

 and Abe went up and " shaked " and 

 poked the coon with a pole Until it lost its 

 grip and fell, but caught on a lower limb. 

 The operation was repeated with more suc- 

 cess, for the coon fell to the ground and 

 was speedily dispatched by the dogs. 



The negroes now gathered wood, and a 

 fire was lighted. The old negroes gave us 



some melodies and we all sang in turn, after 

 which we started for home. We wandered 

 around until about 1 o'clock in the morn- 

 ing, when we came upon a yam field. Be- 

 ing tired and hungry, we determined to' 

 have a yam supper and to sleep right there. 

 We did not think it worth while to try to 

 find our way home that night, and sup- 

 posed we were in some old nigger's yam 

 field. It was our host's friend who pro- 

 posed having that supper, and another fire 

 was built, yams were cooked and eaten, 

 and more were cooked and more were 

 eaten until we could not eat another one. 

 By this time we had taken about half the 

 yams in the field. I noticed the niggers 

 winking to one another, and throwing 

 away and wasting as many as they could, 

 but did not think much of it, and with the 

 others was quickly wrapped in sleep be- 

 side the fire. 



" Where are those d niggers? Wake 



up and see what you've done, you pigs! " 



Thus were we rudely awakened in the 

 morning, by the owner of the yams. The 

 light of dawn had disclosed the fact that the 

 gentleman had run on his own yam field, 

 and that there was only one half the crop 

 left. I never saw a man so mad. The foxy 

 old niggers had made good their escape 

 before the discovery, doubtless taking 

 home an extra bushel " fo' good luck." 

 We 4 roared with laughter, which only 

 made the old gentleman the hotter, so we 

 followed the negroes' example and beat a 

 retreat. 



That was 2 years ago, and still when we 

 meet someone asks, " Had any yams late- 

 ly? " and again we laugh, as we recall the 

 adventure of that memorable night. 



CLIMBING MOUNTAINS ON WHEELS. 



LINCOLN M. MILLER. 



The club of mountain climbers known 

 as the Mazamas, has for its object the col- 

 lection of scientific data concerning the 

 mountains of Washington and Oregon, and 

 includes in its membership many of the 

 most able men in these 2 sister states. 



It is the custom of the club to ascend 

 some mountain each summer, thus adding 

 to the world of science much valuable in- 

 formation regarding the geological history 

 of the Northwest Pacific coast. At the 

 same time they enrich themselves, individ- 

 ually, by that personal contact with Nature, 

 and by the hard work and simple living 



which goes, according to Walt Whitman, to 

 " the making of the best of people." 



The headquarters of the Mazamas are at 

 Portland, Oregon. From this city, early in 

 August, 1896, a party thoroughly equipped 

 for work, and for recreation as well, set out 

 to explore that portion of the Cascade 

 range of mountains which lies between 

 Douglas and Jackson counties on the West, 

 and Klamath on the East. The objective 

 point of the expedition was Crater lake, a 

 mysterious and interesting body of water 

 situated on the Eastern slope of the range, 

 at an altitude of 6,280 feet. 



