For Forest and Stream. 
WINTER SCENES. 
OLOW sinks the royal sun behind the woods, 
•OThe desert woods of winter; the red flush 
That blooms along the cloud-land of the skies, 
Tinting its vapory world with hues of rose, 
Streams thro 1 the naked groves, and gilds their tops 
With lights the woods receive in Autumn time. 
Tall chestnut trees that crown the upland slopes 
Nod their blown branches in the ruddy light; 
And yellow willows by the frozen stream, 
And alders black that skirt the oozy swamp, 
And the lithe, silver poplars, slim and tall, 
Touch’d by the slanting beam, with beauty glow. 
. Deep lie the snows in many a drifted heap, 
On turfy mounds heneath the lifeless woods, 
' Whose rugged holies are white with downy flakes, 
\ Or crusted thick with adamantine ice, 
| That like a burnish’d armor clasps them round. 
I Each leafless sprig and slender spray is gemm’d 
With jewels crystalline, that shift and shine 
And tinkle as the sorrowing breeze goes by. 
’Tis like some grotto in enchanted land, 
Where tricksy elves and fairies hold their sports, 
And in their frolic merriment adorn 
The haunted precinct with gay jewelry, 
» Twining their wreaths of pearl and amethyst, 
Their diamond garlands to bedeck the haunt. 
i, 
Mute lies the shining river in its bed, 
And mute the glistening lake outspreads its space; 
; The foaming waterfall of summer time, 
J That down the mossy rocks its torrents pour’d, 
1 Freshening the bending ferns and rosy blooms, 
/Now grim in icy death lies motionless. 
The blithe cascade that turn’d the miller’s wheel, 
And with its churning foam made endless noise, 
Fix’d by the frost’s enchantment pours no more. 
The white untrampled fields immense extend 
i Their crusted slopes to th’ horizon’s verge, 
^ Trod by no cropping herd or browsing flock, 
' And lifeless all, save when the woodman’s sled 
Laden with forest houghs, plows thro’ the waste; 
„ The piping quail no longer skims its space. 
Nor the brown partridge seeks its stubble fields, 
, Nor comes the limping hare or prowling fox; 
Whey all have vanish’d to deep woods of pine, 
I Or where the hemlock groves their shelter yield; 
/No flap of wing, save flight of cawing crow, 
Or where the hawlc in airy circle swings. 
| (Far down the'country road, with hedges lin’d, 
[(The farmer opes the way with cumbrous sledge, 
And there the merry sleighs with jingling bells 
I And prancing team and ringing laughter peals, 
f Cheer with their jocund life the barren scene. 
Though shapeless drifts besiege the farm-house door, 
And high on roof and gable lies the snow, 
| Yet mirthful faces beam around the hearth, 
1 And gleeful sports prolong the winter night, 
I With viol’s tinkle and the dancer’s tread. 
Far up the drear,Canadian forest grounds, 
Where pines like giant lances rise in air, 
/And sombre hemlocks spread their slanting boughs 
j; Laden with snows and bright with glittering ice. 
The hunters and the trappers seek the woods, 
Sliding on cumbrous snow-shoes o’er the drifts, 
And dragging as they go the Indian sledge. 
For days they trample o’er the crusted wastes, 
f Cheering the way with tales of forest life, 
Or songs of war, or chase, or Gallic chants. 
: Each bears the heavy rifle in his hand, 
And shining knife and hatchet in his belt, 
> And though the ruffian breeze assaults their route, 
They heed it not. each wrapt in furry robe, 
Or buckskin dress, or Indian blanket white. 
it; 
And when the shades wide o’er the landscape creep 
The halt is made, the weighty guns are stack’d, 
Or hung on branching pine; the goods are pil’d, 
'!The snow is scrap’d and heap’d in windward bank, 
1 : 'a tree is felled, and high a roaring tire 
/Shoots up its fork’d flame and dusky smokes; 
/Then come the feast, the song, the soothing pipe; 
/Then each reposing on tiny cedar couch, 
Sleeps till the morning dawn peeps o’er the groves. 
'/And when the moose yard with its trampled snows 
" Is found, how thrillingly intense the joy! 
/The light toboggins are unharness’d quick, 
/Packs cast aside, the clogging snow-shoes loos’d, 
' And each one creeping o’er the level snows, 
Or gliding thro’ the thick-set cedar copse 
Reaches the spot that fair commands the “yard;” 
And then how wild and wonderful the scene 1 
The big bull moose within the rifle range 
Flaps the huge ears and paws with cloven feet, 
Unconscious all of danger, while the cows 
Browse on the spicy firs or chew the cud. 
Then sudden uproar and tumultuous din 
Wakes the sleeping woods and tranquil scene! 
When rifles crack and frequent flashes gleam— 
What bellowing, savage ones, and piteous groans ! 
Some stretch’d in death encrimson all the snows; 
Some wounded, wallowing struggle in the drifts, 
And some unharm’d break frantic into flight, 
While pitiless the hunters hem them round. Isaac McClellan, 
For Forest and Stream. 
^ormosn -^he J? enntiffnl . 
NUMBER THREE. 
[Continuedfrom March 2 
I STORY gives to the Chinese the credit of the discov¬ 
ery of this island nearly four and a half centuries ago, 
but either the Chinese must have been very modest in their 
claims, or those inhabiting the coast previous to A. D. 
1430 were very shor,t sighted, for on a clear day the bold 
outlines of the great range of mountains, which, like a 
huge hack bone, extends the length of the island, is dis¬ 
tinctly visible from the China coast, and to the fisherman, 
venturing a day’s sail from home in his well-formed boat, 
Mount Morrison, 12,800 feet in height, with snow-clad 
peak, must have been a familiar object. It is far more 
likely that, ante-dating authentic records, many Chinese 
seamen have been driven to make harbor on its coasts, and, 
absorbed into the various tribes of aborigines, have helped 
give origin to the complex variety of natives peculiar to 
Formosa, and which puzzle the ethnologist to account for. 
The island is some two hundred miles in length, lying 
in a N.N.E. and S.S.W. direction, its northern end being 
in latitude twenty-six degrees north, and its southern 
stretching down into the tropical region of twenty-two de¬ 
grees. At its widest part it is seventy miles in breadth. 
Three ranges of mountains run nearly parallel lengthwise 
of the island, with rich and fruitful valleys between, the 
eastern range marking the coast line, which is bold and 
precipitous. The Chinese name for the island is Tar-wan, 
or “Croat Bay,” a name singularly inappropriate, as there 
is no bay worthy of the name on its coast. More just is 
the title given it by the Portuguese, who, approaching from 
the eastward, or from the muddy rice fiats and barren hills 
about Macao and southern climes generally, enchanted with 
the thickly wooded mountains and the bright streams of 
of clear water, pouring like silver ribbons over the faces 
of the cliffs into the sea, christened it “The Beautiful.” 
Among the mountains, and formerly on the plains are, and 
were, found tribes of natives differing widely in physique, 
customs, and languages. This is undoubtedly due to the 
peculiar situation of the island, a central point, over 
which the fierce winds of the northeast monsoon sweep 
unchecked, and drift to its shores unlucky fishermen from 
the north, and in summer months the resistless typhoon 
has hurled in the same direction those from the south, and 
with the strong current of the Kuro-siwo sweeping along 
its coasts all attempts to return have been frustrated, and 
thus the Japanese and Kurile islanders, and those from the 
Bashees and Philipines, and Malayans from still farther 
south, have contributed their quotas, and years of inter¬ 
marriage have softened down but not obliterated the dis¬ 
tinctive traits of the races. But little 'is known in regard 
to the greater portion of the Hill men. Vague .stories of 
cannibals, and in all respects fiendish savages, dwelling 
among the mountains; one hears from the Chinese, but 
such explorations as have been made have redeemed from 
such bad repute the mountaineers encountered. Wild men 
they are, and to the Chinese relentless foes, but they ere 
brave, not without chivalry, have certain arts and manu¬ 
factures, and live in comfortable villages. Among the. 
mountains on the southern end of the island dwell a con 
federation of eighteen tribes, each with its chief, but all 
governed by one supreme ruler—Tank-e-tok. 
One of these tribes—the Koaluts—fell upon the ship¬ 
wrecked crew of the American bark Rover and murdered 
them. General Le Gendre, the United States consul at 
Amoy, China, resolved to seek the savages to recover the 
remains of the murdered people, and to endeavor to make 
such understanding with the natives that in future the only 
harbor at the south of the island might prove a place of 
refuge rather than a trap to death of unfortunate mariners 
lost upon the outlying dangers. Making use of his great 
influence with the Chinese, who thoroughly believed in 
him, and had given him a name signifiying “he who will 
not lie,” Le Gendre addressed a despatch to the Viceroy 
of Foo-kien and showed him that, as the Chinese claimed 
control of the island, they were responsible for the doings 
of its inhabitants; that the aborigines stood to the Chinese 
in the same relation as do our Indian tribes to the United 
States, and that we insist that foreign nations should con¬ 
sider those tribes as existing at our will; and finally, that 
if the Chinese disclaimed the responsibility they could 
bring no valid objection to any other nation taking posses¬ 
sion of the land, for by their own doctrines civilized na¬ 
tions have right to substitute their own civilization for that 
of an inferior one. Le Gendre’s arguments convinced the 
Viceroy, who placed under his command a large force of 
men and a steamer of war. Thus equipped the general 
started on liis campaign, and in a few Weeks had accom¬ 
plished his object, losing during tlie t ime one-eiglith of his 
force from hardship and disease. Among the “Sabarees” 
h*e met Tauketoli, the chief ruler, and effected with him a 
treaty, which has never been broken. A portion of the 
convsrsation between them, as told me by the general, was 
of interest. 
“Do you come in war or peacer?” said the chief. “In 
peace, I hope.” “Then I will talk with you; what do you 
( wish?” The general briefly called upon him for informa¬ 
tion in regard to the massacre of the Rover’s crew. 
“It was not done by my tribe (he is individually a Sa- 
baree), but by the Ivoaluts.” 
“Why did they do it?” 
“Because of avow. Many years ago white men came 
among them from a ship, robbed them, outraged their 
women, and in the ensuing fight killed nearly all of the 
tribe. The few left swore upon the graves of their ances¬ 
tors, and of their murdered friends, that forever after no 
white man falling into their hands should escape' with 
life.” 
“But why did you kill Mrs. Hunt; she was a woman, 
not a man?” 
“We did not know it; she was dressed' the same as the 
rest, in men’s clothes; th|(y -were sitting on the beach eat¬ 
ing, and were killed by one volley of musketry, fired from 
the bushes. Afterwards, i\\ stripping the bodies, we dis¬ 
covered that one was a woman, and we were grieved.” 
Le Gendre then, by acts of his own, succeeded in pro¬ 
ducing a friendship in this untutored savage, and finally 
asked him direct if that vow could not be retracted. Tan- 
ketoh replied that by certain ceremonies it could, and 
said:— 
“We did not know the noble hearts of the white men, 
but we do now. In the battle (referring to tlic attack made 
upon them by the Hartford’s crew) such courage was never 
seen They came into the mouths of our guns, and the 
brave leader who was killed seemed to seek death. We 
■would like to be friends with so great hearted a people.” 
A simple religious ceremony, the particulars of which 1 
cannot remember, was gone through with, and, on behalf 
of the eighteen tribes, their ruler recanted the old vow and 
took a new one, to always befriend the whites. The chief 
promised that the remains of Mrs. Hunt should be re¬ 
stored, and this promise was kept. The “Sabarees” are 
the most powerful of the eighteen tribes. I have not seen 
them. Le Gendre describes them as fine looking, robust 
men, darker than the Chinese, and without the "almond- 
shaped, oblique eye which characterizes the Mongolian 
They are probably of Malay origin. They subsist by hunt¬ 
ing in a great measure, but also by agriculture, the women 
cultivating large crops of millet and other grains, and to¬ 
bacco. In their field labors the women have the assistance 
