Jtote IS, 1884.} 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



383 



into the water, looked up, attracted by the noise made by an 

 ox cart loaded with colored women who were on their way to 

 church by the road that ran along the lakeside. Scratching 

 bis wooly bead and turning to me, he remarked that ' 'dem 

 ligous tokos too good ter ketch fish sundys, but dey buys my 

 butlers, an dey eats em too." By this time the cart bad 

 reached that point in the road where it ran nearest to the 

 place where we sat, when an old colored mother in Israel 

 lifted up her great black hands, rolled up her great white 

 eyes, and in tones as if her very soul was tortured by the 

 sight, exclaimed, "Why, bress de Lord, is datyou darfishin, 

 brer Steben? Fore de Lord, you is." Brer S'teben did not 

 deign to make any reply, but" when the cart had passed, he 

 said, with a low chuckle as if talking to himself, "I bets I 

 sells dat nigger one bufier yet fore she gits home." 



He bad hardly ceased speaking, when the chain or fasten- 

 ing which held down the body of the cart in front, either 

 broke or became unfastened, and turning upon its fulcrum, 

 the front end of the body shot up, and hind end went down, 

 and the pious old mother and her scandalized sisters were 

 dumped out into the dusty road. 



"Dar now," said Steve, as he witnessed the catastrophe, 

 "I knode dat ar good oomans wer gwine ter hebin too fass." 

 Theu turning and addressing me, he continued, "Dat ole 

 wagin turnin somerset minds me uv how my ole Mistis kilt 

 <er bar." 



Knowing from experience that it required no persuasion 

 to induce Steve to finish his yarns when once he began to 

 spin them. I putted away at my pipe in silence. He there- 

 fore went on with his story, which was as follows : 



"Twer while we alls lived in ole Firginny, fore Mars 

 Weyum [William] fotched us out here. One* day we all 

 black lokes wer sottin out terbarker. an Mars Weyum he 

 wer dar wid us settin on he boss, an he say, 'Boys, deys er 

 shower comin up, an you alls better be gittin ter de house.' 

 So we alls and Mars Weyum ridin long, starts fur de house. 

 Den Mars Weyum tun roun on he hoss, an he look back 

 ober todes de piny ole feel, an be say, 'I. behanged, boys, ef 

 yonder ain't er bar.' Only he diden say behanged (to' me), 

 you know what he say, Mars John. Well sir, we alls looks 

 an sure miff dar wer de bigess black bar you eber seed, des 

 tarein cross de feel and makein fur de pines. Arter de shower 

 wer ober Mars Weyum he tucken put Unk Bob on de gray 

 mare, an little Pete on er mule an sont um roun fur ter re- 

 form de naberhood. Den he tell me fur ter kotch old Selim 

 an ride ober ter ole Mistis, fur to noterfy Mars Garrett, an 

 ter tell ole Miss, how she not ter git skeerd ef she hear um 

 playin de dickens down in de piDy ole feel. Only Mars 

 Weyum diden say dickens, he say sumfin heap wus. Well, 

 sir, I des lumps on ole Selim au I tuck out f assern er railroad, 

 an when 1 gits dar ole Miss done gone ober ter see ole Miss 

 Polly, an den I noterfy Mars Garrett bout dat bar, an he say, 

 'Youlyin, you dam black scoundul you.' But I swar Iaint, 

 an den he blow he horn, an fore goodness he blow up more 

 , dem houns dan dar is fishes in dis here lake. Tis de blessed 

 troof sir. I never did hear sich er yelpiu an er yowlin. But 

 vwhen Mars Garrett git he whip an slosh inter em er time er 

 'too, dey des f assen up dey moufs an trot long hine us ober 

 tter Mars Weyums. 



"When we gits dar, sir, de whole endurin country done 

 riz up. Bars diden trot roun dar like er passel er hogs, like 

 dey does foere, an de niggers dar wer des ez feer'd er bars ez 

 dey is er lions and tagers. Dat wer one stray bar what done 

 straggHe down from de Blue-ridge Mountin. Leasways, 

 Mars 'Garrett he say he speck he wer. Well, sir, dey blows 

 dar horns, an den dey all starts down ter whar de bar lump 

 ober de fence, an Mars Weyum he say ter me, 'You kin 

 come er long, too, Steben.' Den I say how I ride mighty 

 ifass when I gwiue ober ter old Mistis, I speck 1 better put 

 ®le Selim in de stable, caze I knode he wer mighty tired. 

 But Mars Weyum say tired er no tired, I want him ter smell 

 ti*? bar. An I say out loud, 'yas, sir,' an den I say ter my- 

 self how ef ole Selim smell dat bar wid me on he back, he 

 got ter hab er better nose, dan ar houn Mars Garrett got. 

 Den I rid long slow hine all un um. 



"Presenly Mars Garrett he say ter Mars Weyum, 'Billy,' 

 he say, 'des keep dem yuther dogs back twell ole Katler git 

 er sniff er dat bar heel.' One time I bin hear Mars Garrett 

 tell dat young ooman what come home wid Miss Sally from 

 de high 'school dat ole Ratler nose so cole ole Marster sot he 

 mint jumps on it in de summer time, an dat how ole Miss 

 put ole Ratler head in de milk pan ter freeze de ice cream 

 she wer eatin, an she laff an she say she bedoggoned. ef she 

 eat any more. 



' 'Well, sir. sure nuff fore ole Ratler git in er hundud yards 

 uv dat ar bar track he des flung up he head, an he say come 

 er long boys. Den dey had it. Up de hill, an by de big 

 terbarker house, an inter de pines — way dey went, yow yow, 

 yow yow, an evy wunst in er while I heer'd ole Music squeal 

 out fine, des like Miss Sally do when she play on de pianner. 

 Den sir I knode things wer gittin mighty hot fur dat bar. 

 Ole Selim he rar an he pitch an he chomp he bit, but I hilt 

 i him back twell we got inter de thick uv de pines, and den 1 

 ,stopt him. An I say ter ole Selim, 'Look here ole fellow, ef 

 you kongry fur bar I aint. Den I lissen an I hear dem dogs 

 way ober todes Roun Top mountin, goin yow yow, yow 

 yow, an den dey went ober de mountin, an I diden hear 

 mothin. 



"I des sot dar on ole Selim and let him browse round on 

 de grass, an I gin ter think bout dem ar bad chillun what 

 ole Miss read er bout de bars eat up in de bible lass sundy. 

 I git so skeer'd I des tuck dat ole pack er cards outen my 

 hat, an all dem marvels outen my pocket, an I drap um 

 down on de grouu under ole Selim belly an den I say my 

 prayers ober twice. 



"Bout dat time ole Selim juck up he head and stick out 

 he ears, an I lissen, an I hear dem dogs comin back ober de 

 mountin, yow yow, yow yow, an sir dey des kep er comin 

 closer an closer, an closer an closer, twell it look like de 

 whole worl done tun ter houns. Fuss thing 1 knode ole 

 Sehm he gin er snort, an he rar right straight up, an I ketch 

 holt de pummel er de saddle, an I snatch up my legs, an 

 bless yer soul Mars John dat ar bar an bout two hundud er 

 dem dogs des shot under ole Selim belly like dem menny 

 ingines gwine fru er tunnel. 



"When ole Selim come down sir, he look like he bin* hear 

 Mais Weyum say how he want him smell dat bar. He des 

 tuck right straight arter dat bar wid me scrooched up dar 

 wid my foots on he back, des like one dem baboons what 

 rides round in de show. 



"Presenly I hear sumfin go bou-e-c, bou-e-e, like fofe er 

 July done come, and I looks down, an me an ole Selim wer 

 des er flyin ober dat bar an bout er thousan er dem dogs 

 rolled up in er knot bout big ez Mars Weyum's gin house 

 ober dar. 



"I think ole Selim muss er jump bout leas two hundud 

 yards, but when he lit sir, I des let down my legs, an I stick 



my heels in he belly, an I nuvcr let him stop twell we git 

 clean back ter de house. 



"Ole Aunt Patsy, what wer cook, she come er ruunin out, 

 an she say, 'Name'er de Lord, is dat bar done kill evybody?' 

 1 say, 'Go way, fool, 1 done kill dat bar so ded he done cole ez 

 ice by dis time.' Bout dat time Mars Garrett he ride up an 

 say how 1 muss git two dem mules, an put de gecr on em, 

 au drag dat bar outen de woods. I ast him easy, so Aunt 

 Patsy cooden hear, ef dat bar wer ded sure nuff. He say 

 how he sperience diden certerfy how menny lives er bar 

 had. He mouten be more'n haff ded so fur ezlie knode. 



"Well, sir, I got dem mules an I went back wid Mars Gar- 

 rett, an sure nuff dar wer dat bar stretched out flat he back, 

 an des ez big, au des ez black ez dat pious colored ooman 

 what roll her eyes at me while er go. Dey hitched dem 

 mules outer dat bar, an wid me er leadin um, dey drug him 

 outen dem piues twell dey comes ter de big road, whar it 

 goed up Red Hill. Des fore we gits dar, Mars Garrett he 

 say ter Mars Weyum, 'Billy,' he say, 'darn ef dat bar ar ded 

 yet. I seed him kick.' But Mars Weyum he laff an he say 

 ez how Mars Garrett done hang roun dat young ooman what 

 come home wid Miss Sally, twell he think evy thing what 

 got legs kicks. Des den dem mules drug dat bar out inter 

 de middle er de big road, an who shoidd be gwine up dat 

 hill in er ox cart wid ole Unk Dan er drivin her, but ole 

 Miss. Ole Miss wer so fat she cooden git in de carige door, 

 so she make Unk Dan drive her bout in er ox cart, an dat 

 how come she. dar. An when she see dat bar drug out inter 

 de road, she tell Unk Dan stop, an she say. 'Fur goodness 

 sake, Garrett, what make you kill dat great big hog sich 

 warm wedder fur?' Den she raise up and look ober de hine 

 eeud er de cart, an fuss thing ole Miss know de chain done 

 buss, an ole Miss come rollin down de bill des like er hogs- 

 head er barker. Bless yer soul, Mars John, ole Miss roll 

 right smack ober dat bar' and she des spread dat bar out flat 

 ez yer ban, sir. Mars Garrett he jump down an run scotch 

 ole Miss, an when he ax her ef she wer hurt an ole Miss say 

 no, he say he needen ax dat bar ef he wer hurt, for he know 

 ole Miss done squash evy breff be bad outen him. An dats 

 de way old Mistis kilt de bar," said Steve, as, seeing the 

 water dimpling around his float, he seized his stout pole and 

 soon landed a "butler" for the pious old woman who had 

 rolled her eyes at him. Ttjckahoe. 



Yazoo River, Miss. 



SCHOOLS OF FORESTRY. 



UNTIL very lately the American ideal of a skilled for- 

 ester has been a man who could shoulder an axe, go 

 into the tall timber, and there cut and pile his two or three 

 cords of beech or maple a day. The early settlers had to 

 make war upon the woods because they concealed prowling 

 Indians and occupied room needed to raise crops. Farms must 

 be cleared before the plow could ran; wood was a drug, and 

 timber that would be worth from two to four hundred dol- 

 lars an acre were it standing to-day, was burned to get it out 

 of the way. Scarcely any one looked far enough ahead to 

 keep belts for shelter or for future supply. Thirty-five years 

 ago the upper part of the Genesee Valley was richly stocked 

 with white pine and valuable hardwoods; to-day they must 

 bring their supply from Michigan and Canada. New States 

 have been overrun and their forests brought into market as 

 fast as the store of the older States has been exhausted. 



As settlers have gone West from the originally well-wooded 

 regions of the East they have carried the old notions with 

 them, and in the precious timber tracts of the new States, 

 where it was certain that there would very soon be a high 

 price for all the working wood within reach, farms have 

 been cleared, without leaving shelter belts or reserves, with 

 the same lavish thoughtlessness which marked the early set- 

 tlement of New York or Pennsylvania. 



We are just beginning to pay the penalties of this long- 

 continued breach of physical law. The floods have lifted 

 up their angry voices in warning. Pen, camera and pencil 

 have been busy in depicting the heartrending details of 

 deluges in the valleys of the Mississippi and its tributaries, 

 and with few exceptions the press has attributed these floods 

 to the true^ cause— cutting off the woods from steep hill- 

 sides. 



It is true that, as the Cincinnati Commercial Gazette said;' 

 there were seven heavy snowstorms, with thaws and cold 

 snaps coming between them in such a way that the country 

 around the headwaters of the Ohio was sheeted in thick ice, 

 then five great rains fell upon the impervious glassy surface, 

 down which, as a matter of course. Undine went tobog- 

 ganing at a portentous rate. But if the steep hillsides 

 had been covered, as every such slope should be, with a 

 thick growth of trees, for one thing the snows would not 

 have been so firmly consolidated into ice, because the freez- 

 ing and thawing would have been more moderate. Then 

 again, the ground would have frozen very little underneath 

 such a forest, so that when the thawed snow and rain-water 

 began to run off, much of it, checked by the manifold hin- 

 drance of standing and fallen treetrunks, roots, moss, leaves 

 and undergrowth, would have penetrated to the subterra- 

 nean sources of springs; much would have been held, as in 

 a vast sponge, by this undergrowth, etc., and the delivery of 

 the remainder into the streams would have been so much re- 

 tarded that by full and yet harmless stages those streams 

 could have, carried the water away to the sea. 



But the same denudation that caused the excess of precip- 

 itation and its rapid delivery into the streams, prevented 

 that excess being stored up to feed the springs, and so they 

 will fail in the dry time when their water would be most 

 grateful. This harm done by droughts and floods then is 

 definite and tangible, and as was said above has been quite 

 generally assigned to the true cause— forest spoliation. 



But in the case of timber famine it is not so clear. A short 

 supply of working wood impoverishes people in so many and 

 such indirect ways that it is not at all sure that the real 

 cause of the suffering will be seen by most people. There 

 will be bard times, and folks will not know exactly why. 

 The price of every article one uses will be a little dearer, and 

 as every one is under the same pressure it will be harder 

 to sellone's labor or its products. Working wood is directly 

 or indirectly needed for the economical production of every 

 article we use, or for its cheap conveyance and sale to the 

 consumer. As civilization becomes more developed and 

 complex, a great deficit like this of more than a half billion 

 dollars a year will be distributed so that the pressure is 

 not at one spot much more than at another; this is one great 

 advantage in a complex civilization. But there is this danger, 

 that the real cause of such a distributed evil will not be so 

 clearly discerned by the great mass of people. In a strong 

 centralized government this would not perhaps be very bad if 

 only those controlling matters saw the true cause of any 

 great widespread calamity and vigorously applied the right 



remedies. The centralized governments of Europe have 

 taken bold of this matter of the waters and forests with the 

 strong hand, and public sentiment has mostly, come into 

 accord with the action of the State. 



But in a country like ours Hie legislative and executive can- 

 not, go far in advance of public sentiment. Congress has 

 therefore done wisely in providing for such an exhaustive 

 statistical exhibit of 'the amount and quality of onr yet ex- 

 isting forest wealth as that which lias been made in the Cen- 

 sus Office Of the Department, of the Interior, under the direc- 

 tion of Prof, C. S. Sargent of Harvard University. These 

 statistics, among other ways of putting the facts before us, 

 are embodied in a series of maps of the whole country and 

 of the several States. These show by colors, e, g., which 

 regions depend partly, and which wholly, on wood for fuel; 

 and what portions depend upon coal, One is amazed to see 

 how large a part depends altogether and how large a part 

 of the remainder depends partly on wood. Over thirty-two 

 of the fifty millions of our people have no fuel but wood, 

 and it is estimated that they use about four and one-third 

 cords of wood each in a year, or 140.537,439 cords, valued 

 at over three hundred millions of dollars. Then for railroads, 

 steamboats, mining and amalgamating precious metals and 

 other mining operations, in the manufacture of brick and 

 tiles, salt and wool, some five million of cords more are re- 

 quired, making a total of over $321,000,000 worth a 

 year used as fuel. The value of the charcoal used in the 

 manufacture of iron and the precious metals, and in the 

 twenty largest cities is over five millions of dollars. Of 

 comse, there is a vast amount of wood used for fuel and of 

 charcoal of which no estimate can be made, but the above 

 immense total is that which an estimate confessedly partial 

 shows us. 



Another bulletin (No, 17) gives the value of the sawed lum- 

 ber products of our forests as over $233,000,000; but this is 

 considerably short of the full amount. Neither does this 

 include tanbark, rosin, or turpentine, and many other forest 

 products. 



When we come to consult the maps of Michigan and Wis- 

 consin (Bulletins Nos. 6 and 7) and see what a small part is 

 now left of their pine forests that used to be so confidently 

 spoken of as inexhaustible, and then remember that had 

 proper methods of cutting and marketing been used, the vast 

 areas which, as the color shows, were originally covered with 

 the precious white piue, but are now cut off , would have 

 continued for ages to yield this timber without diminishing 

 the stock, it is not easy to feel kindly toward those who have 

 so robbed the present and yet more the future generations. 

 When the end of our present seeming abundance comes, every 

 poor man will be burdened in a great number of ways in 

 which he is not now. It will be much harder for him to get 

 decent clothes, f urniture, lodging and wholesome food for 

 his family. Many of those now earning a good living in the 

 thousand and one trades into whose product wood largely 

 enters will be out of employment, and will be added to the 

 number of competitors for work in the occupations that re- 

 main. It will take a good while for people to make up their 

 minds to plant and plant, and plant on the scale that the case 

 demands, and then more time and means will be spent in 

 learning the exceedingly complex science and art of forestry; 

 and after that it will take from twenty to fifty years before 

 enough can be raised to supply the crying need. ' 



When that pinch comes a, well equipped forest school like 

 those which all leading and most of the smaller nations of 

 continental Europe maintain will be an absolute necessity. 

 Such a school is not organized and got at work in a day or 

 a year. We cannot take the methods and eurriculums and 

 perhaps not even the teachers of the European schools of 

 forestry and transplant them in block to American soil. All 

 will need modification, just what and how much can only 

 be learned by experiment. 



The State of New York has either a very large elephant or 

 a great treasure upon her hands in the extensive forests of 

 the Adirondacks. If the lumbermen are left to do as they 

 please much longer those forests and the underlying sponge 

 of vegetable substance, often three or four feet in depth, is 

 in great danger of being burned up and washed down, stream 

 by freshets. In that case it will be almost impossible to get 

 those areas clothed again with woods, and if they are not, 

 then the Hudson, Mohawk, Black Grass, Raquett'e, Saranac 

 and other rivers which rise iu that region will almost 

 certainly become very dangerous and destructive torrents. 

 The navigation of their now navigable portions and of the 

 canals connected with them and fed by them will be so in- 

 terrupted and so costly that it will not pay to keep it up. 

 Very serious and permanent damage will be done to the ex- 

 tensive manufacturing interests connected with these streams 

 which do so much to give New York its place at the head of 

 the manufacturing States of the Union. Agriculture, too, 

 will suffer from droughts, failure of springs, and climatic 

 irregularities. 



If the State is to protect this area it will cost an immense 

 sum every year unless, by calling in the aid of forest science, 

 it is made, as it readily can be, a permanent and lucrative 

 source of those forest products for which there will surely 

 be before long a famine demand. This is a solution of the 

 much debated and exceedingly perplexing question, which 

 will be a vast benefit to the lumberman, the tanner, the 

 charcoal burner, the paper-pulp maker, the health-seeker 

 and, above all, the taxpayer. 



This result can never be reached unless a good forest 

 school is established somewhere in that region, and then, 

 either by the. State, together with the present owneis of the 

 lands (who hold all but about 750,000 of the 4,500,000 acres 

 of the whole) or by the State alone, the entire tract should 

 beset apart and kept in the highest possible condition as a 

 scientifically administered forest reserve. 



Such a school and reservation would be a fountain head of 

 the practical knowledge which we must before long call to 

 our aid to deliver us from the intolerable gripe of timber 

 famine. g. w. Powell. 



Brooklyn. 



Game est the National Park.— Bozeman, Montana Ter,, 

 May 31.— Concerning the list of species of animals, stated 

 to be found in the National Park, the caribou has never in- 

 habited that part of the country to my knowledge, and I 

 have hunted and trapped on the headwaters of the Yellow- 

 stone and Snake River more or less since 1871, but I never 

 have seen nor heard of any caribou being killed in that 

 region, nor did I ever see any tracks. The same may be said 

 in regard to mountain goats. On the western slope of the 

 Rocky Mountain , near Bitterroot, Deerlodge and the head 

 of Salmon River in the Saw Tooth Range of the Rocky 

 Mountains, mountain goats are to be found, 'hut I have never 

 seen nor heard of any being killed in the National Park. — 

 Aw Old Hujsteb, 



