Terms, Five Dollars a Year. 
Ten Cents a Copy. 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY, JULY 30, 1874. 
Volume 2, Number 25. 
17 Chatham St. (CityHall Sqr.) 
THE EDITORIAL ALEMBIC. 
BY CIIAS. HALBOCK. 
I N thermal climes, where man has nought to do 
But fan himself and mope the long day through, 
Where slaves assiduous mix the cooling ice, 
And minister with zeal to each caprice; 
Where houris, languid, woo with lustrous eyes, 
And valets brush away persistent flies; 
Where weekly papers vex not nor harass 
The ransacked brains of editor or as¬ 
sistant editor— 
’Tis sweet to think on sublunary things, 
And bless the gifts that such good fortune brings. 
With all the chords of earth in sweet attune, 
E’en life itself would seem almost a boon. 
But to the man whom arduous cares oppress, 
Preparing copy for exacting press, 
Who day by day with perspiration reeks, 
Through weary round of burning summer weeks— 
Like alchemist, who from his realm of heat, 
With fiery test and subtle art replete, 
Forth from the deep’alembic of the mind 
Distills his wits to edify mankind— 
To him, with feverish brain and debts unpaid, 
(Thermometer full ninety in the shade,) 
Existence seems almost a torrid zone, 
And Tophet well may claim him as his own. 
For Forest and Stream . 
'parts in (^aliffornia. 
No. IV.—WOODCRAFT CONTINUED. 
I N my last I gave you a sketch of an Indian “scare” we 
had while fishing, together with an interpretation, at 
length, of the Indian “sign.” Not wishing to be tedious, 
I will give but another example where the knowledge of 
“sign” enabled us to escape scot free, and then close up the 
personal repertoire. * 
On this occasion we were fishing a little stream running 
through a deep ravine, some six or eight miles to the north¬ 
ward of our Post. The afternoon was lovely, and our suc¬ 
cess had been excellent. Captain-and myself had 
gone up the stream a considerable distance beyond the re¬ 
mainder of the party, and had been diligently engaged in 
relieving a number of choice pools of their “oldest inhabi¬ 
tants.” We were in a deeply shaded part of the ravine, 
and had been so busily employed that we had not spoken 
for half an hour, though not twenty yards apart the greater 
portion of the time. 
Suddenly Captain-, who w r as an old Indian cam¬ 
paigner, came quietly to my side and said in a low voice, 
“Do you see that? It is time for us to leave. There are 
Indians about, and if we are not quick we will be cut off 
before we can reach the Post.” While uttering these words 
be pointed up the glen. Looking in the direction indi¬ 
cated, I saw, about a hundred yards before us, one of those 
half-starved, yellow and white mongrel curs, half dog, 
half coyote, known as “Indian dogs,” come stealing out of 
the bushes, with drooping ears and tail, and, perceiving we 
noticed him, as quietly slinking back again. 
Perfectly comprehending the “sign,” and knowing that 
no time was to be lost, I joined the gallant captain in a 
guarded though swift retreat. On our way down we met 
the party, and communicating the information all hurried 
to where we had secured our animals. Quite a brisk breeze 
was blowing down the ravine, and if we had needed any 
other assurance of the correctness of our conclusions the 
startled look and straining efforts of our mules to escape 
from their fastenings left no room for doubt. Quickly sad- 
'fffug and mounting, we galloped off. Giving little heed to 
the roughness of the trail, or paying much attention to 
briars and thickets, we pushed on as rapidly as our willing 
a uimals could carry us, and in a very short time had put 
several miles between us and our late fishing ground. 
-A-t the mouth of the ravine, where the hills subsided into 
the level, and about a mile from the bay, was a thriving 
ranche. The well-tilled fields, abundant and sleek-looking 
stock, and neat buildings, told as well of the thrift of the 
settler as of the richness of the soil. As we turned into 
this clearing the trail led into a cart track, which took us 
close to the settler’s house. When we rode by he, with his 
wife and children, was sitting at the supper table. The 
noise of the clattering hoofs caused him to look up, nod a 
friendly good evening, and halloo a pleasant invitation to 
stop and sup. Riding to the window, I told him what was 
hurrying us off so much earlier than we had anticipated, 
and advised him to leave with his family and come with 
us. He, however, declined, saying that the Indians had 
never troubled him nor stolen his stock; that both he and 
his wife had always treated them kindly, and he guessed 
they would not molest him; that we must be wrong. At 
any rate he would risk it even if we were right. It is per¬ 
fectly astonishing how reckless these settlers become. Long 
and continued fellowship with danger makes them uttterly 
incredulous and careless until they will give no heed to 
anything save the actual presence of the enemy. This is 
one great cause of the facility and impunity with which 
the Indians commit so many ravages on our frontiers. Not 
an hour after we left the Indians came to this ranche and 
shot from a thicket, some fifty yards from the house, this 
very man as he sat on the porch smoking his pipe. The 
first notice he had of their presence was the flash and re¬ 
port of their rifles. We got to our Post without any 
trouble. As a matter of course, the Indians had left be¬ 
fore any assistance reached the ranche. 
And all this indicated by a mongrel cur seen in the 
woods. How was this “Indian sign?” Very simply thus: 
When the Indians go on the war path in small parties they 
never take dogs with them, but always drive them back. 
Yet the dogs will follow their masters, and may occasion¬ 
ally be seen fighting over the bones of their abandoned 
camps. They always keep out of sight of their masters, 
however, knowing that if seen they will be driven back; 
and the dogs well know that Indians are not famed for 
gentleness in their treatment of brutes. So they usually 
keep in the rear, or on the flanks of the party. In the 
above case the dog had evidently gotten ahead, owing to 
the nature of the country and lay of the land, and, being 
spied by the captain and myself, enabled us to get away 
in good time. As they generally follow their masters, when 
we saw the animal we much feared lest the Indians had 
already gotten between us and the Post, and cut us off. 
These instances are very simple examples of the science 
of woodcraft—for a science, and a very perfect one, too, 
it undoubtedly is. Not written in ordinary books—for this 
is an art in which experientia docet is the motto—the pages 
of the great book of Nature alone contain the only infor¬ 
mation that can be acquired. And to interpret correctly 
these lessons requires the experience of many long years 
of trial and vicissitude. It is wonderful how acute the 
senses become when thus educated. The relations of 
cause and effect become almost intuitive. The faintest de¬ 
parture from Nature’s laws attracts the attention. Not a 
leaf falls, or is turned the wrong way, or presents any un¬ 
usual aspect; not a twig is broken or bent; not a blade of 
grass is crushed, but the attention is riveted and the cause 
understood and ascertained. And all this without effort— 
as I said, intuitively. One would think, to hear of all that 
is done, that the mind was on a continuous stretch. But 
this is not the case, unless in the neighborhood of the game 
or enemy. Without being especially attentive, the senses 
are—if I may be allowed the expression—ever on the alert, 
but, apparently, notice nothing unless it is unusual. Then 
they spring into action instantly. The acuteness of “moun¬ 
tain men,” as they are styled, or hunters, and especially of 
Indians, in the interpretation of “sign” is absolutely aston¬ 
ishing and incredible. Looking at a trail they will tell you 
how many persons have passed along, whether whites, In¬ 
dians, or negroes, male or female, fresh or tired, how long 
since they have passed, and, probably, their destination 
and intention. If the trail be that of animals, they will 
tell you whether these were ridden, loose orloaded, whether 
horses, mules, or horned cattle, whether tired or fresh, the 
gait at which they travelled, the tribe or country of the 
riders, etc., ad infinitum. Often an Indian will point out 
the entire impression of a foot, calling it a broad trail when 
the uneducated eye will perceive nothing save, perhaps, a 
formless inequality of the ground. In fact, there seems 
almost to be no limit to the accuracy which they attain. 
Those interested in the subject will find some very in¬ 
structive accounts and descriptions of these matters in 
Marcy’s “Prairie Traveller,” and “Army Life on the Bor¬ 
der,” in Galton’s “Art of Travel,” and in Lord and Baines’ 
“Shifts and Expedients.” [And, even more particularly, 
in “Ruxton’s Life in the Far West.— Ed.] 
Some time ago I saw a little book on South America, in 
which were mentioned some most astonishing instances of 
perfection in this art. It appears that among the Gauchos 
of the South American pampas, and the Llaneros of Vene¬ 
zuela, there is a class of men known as “rastraedores,” or 
trailers, who are so skilled in this science that they are fre¬ 
quently employed by the authorities for the discovery of es¬ 
caped convicts or prisoners. 
On one occasion the narrator saw an old man walking 
slowly along the road and peering intently on the ground. 
Supposing he had lost something for which he was search¬ 
ing, and desiring to render assistance, if possible, for the 
man seemed very old, he accosted him. The man replied 
that there were some thieves about, “for,” said he, “there 
was a man who was dressed in women’s clothes, and wore 
women's shoes which did not fit him, who passed here, and 
as he was disguised, he must be intent on some evil pur¬ 
pose.” He added, “I think he has gone to the next town.” 
And sure enough, a few days afterwards came the news 
that some thieves had been discovered in that town who 
were dressed in female apparel. 
In another case, one of these men, while absent from 
home on business, had his house robbed, and, among other 
things, a saddle stolen. His wife, coming into the house 
shortly after, noticed the track of the thief in the sand, and 
placed a bowl over it. Some months later, when her hus- 
baud returned, she showed him the footprint. Time passed 
,n, and two years afterward , in passing along a street in the 
suburbs of the town, the rastreador noticed a footprint, and 
following it up, entered a house and there found his sad 
die. He had recognized the trail of the robber. 
The same man, who was the most celebrated rastreador in 
the province, was once employed by the government to 
ascertain the whereabouts of a prisoner under sentence of 
death, who had eluded the vigilance of the officers and es 
caped from gaol. The fugitive had resorted to every de¬ 
vice and artifice to destroy his trail that fear of death could 
inspire, for he knew he would be followed, and, if cap 
tured, executed. He even took to the river and swam down 
the stream for a long distance. Patiently the rastreador fol¬ 
lowed every winding and doubling of the trail. When he 
came to xhe river he knew that as the man went in he must 
come out again. So he carefully went along the banks, 
and after a time said, “He came out here.” Following the 
trail, he came to a vineyard, surrounded by a stone wall, 
and carefully walked around it. “He is in there,” said he 
to the officer in charge of the party which accompanied 
him. A thorough search ensued. At length, tired of hunt 
ing, they returned, and the officer said, “He has escaped.” 
“He is still there,” replied the rastreador. Another and 
more thorough search was made, and the prisoner was dis¬ 
covered concealed among a mass of vines and rubbish. He 
was executed the next morning. 
All of these cases are said to be well authenticated, and 
not mere “travellers’ tales.” Many others might be cited, 
but this article is already too long, and I fear lest I weary 
the reader. Enough has, however, been said to show that, 
whether in the forest or on the plain, the art is the same 
and that, as Frank Forester said, “some pleasure and much 
profit may be gained from the cultivation of the gentle 
science of woodcraft.” Monmouth. 
—Hogarth’s picture of Calais gate is for sale in England. 
It is remarkable in an icthyological way, because an old 
woman is handling a hake, and the satirist of the age has 
repeated the face of the woman in that of the fish so that 
the old woman and the hake look like sisters. 
