Fbb. 1886 J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



63 



whirling mist wreaths, gray-blue ice masses, and fields of 

 gleaming snow. Over all arched a leaden sky, whose 

 shadows might dull, but could not efface, the bewildering 

 beauty of this mass of color. 



Down the mountain side we slowly picked our way, and 

 at dark, tired, hungry, wet and without game, reached the 

 camp. There we found Yellowfish, who had been in since 

 noon. Soon after starting out, he said, he had got among 

 goats and had shot away all his ammunition, twenty rounds, 

 at them without getting one. He said that they had been 

 very plenty, and it was very amusing to hear him tell how, 

 when he would shoot at one it would jump down out of 

 sight behind the rocks, and another would pop out from 

 behind some other point to see what the noise was about. 

 He said that he had hit several, but all too far behind, so 

 that they got away among the rocks, and he could not find 

 them. 



"Some one," he said, "is surely doing this" (i. e., bewitch- 

 ing us) "first we had rain, then we fall in the creek, now I 

 can t shoot. Some moons it is so — a man cannot shoot— 

 and when it happens so, one knows that the medicine is bad 

 and some of his relations are going to die. Then the people 

 make many sweat lodges and they get well." 



Although we nodded gravely as the Indian made these 

 statements, accepting them without question, as we did 

 almost everything that he told us, no doubt Appekunny and 

 I smiled inwardly at the crude superstition of the savage 

 who thus expressed to us an article of the Piegan faith. 

 "We do not believe such things, we intelligent white men; 

 to us signs and portents are nothing. We jeer at those 

 who fear the ticking of the death watch or the howl- 

 ing of a dog and believe that they foretell some direful 

 event. But it did seem just a little queer, when we got 

 back to the agency, to learn that a young man, a relative of 

 Yellowfish, who had been off on a horse stealing expedition, 

 had been killed by the Crows, and that the news reached 

 the Piegan camp just about the time that we were up on the 

 Swift Current. A coincidence you will say. No doubt, no 

 doubt. But you would find it a difficult matter to persuade 

 an Indian that it was merely a coincidence. It was cer- 

 tainly odd and worth making a note of. 



We are disbelievers in this age, agnostics we call ourselves, 

 perhaps without very well knowing what we mean by the 

 term. Is it not possible that we disbelieve too much? I 

 have seen so many mysterious and altogether inexplicable 

 things during my wandering among the Indians that I am 

 slow to believe or to disbelieve anything. Some day I pur- 

 pose giving for the benefit of the readers of Forest and 

 Stream a little exposition of the things that I have seen 

 and those that I have beard from thoroughly reliable 

 sources. The history of the medicine workers among these 

 people has never been written, and, indeed, never can be, 

 for m many cases their wonderful practices have been aban- 

 doned and almost forgotten; but the feats that were accom- 

 plished by some of the Indians of the Southwest, by the 

 Panis and Rees of the Missouri River region, would be 

 simply incredible to one who has not seen them. 



It seemed curious that the Indian should have made such 

 wretched work of his shooting. He has the reputation of 

 beiog one of the best hunters in the tribe, and is said to be 

 a good shot as well. We were interested in his story, for 

 we needed meat, as our rations would only suffice for one 

 more meal ; and desirous as both Appekunny and I were to 

 get a goat, its meat was even more important to us than the 

 satisfaction of killing a new species of game. Our provisions 

 consisted of a small piece of bacon and four biscuits, and 

 unless fresh meat could be obtained on the morrow, we 

 should be obliged to return to the St. Mary's. 



Soon after supper my companions turned in, but I lay long 

 by the fire, watching through the branches the stars in the 

 sky, and listening to the soft whispers of the wind in the 

 treetops and the distant murmur of the rushing stream. 



Yo. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Publish- 



A CAMP HUNT IN MISSOURI.— III. 



THE two members of our party who lost their way in re- 

 turning to camp after dark, and who brought up on the 

 Mississippi River, fell in with a most remarkable character, 

 who was pressed into service and piloted them back to camp! 

 His name was Cassias Crossthwait, familiarly known as 

 Cash Crosswhite. A regular swamper, born and bred in the 

 swamps. He knew every tree and every stump, every stream, 

 Bond and thicket in that country, and traveled by night as 

 by day. He could not read, but knew the language of every 

 wild animal and bhd in the woods. Could, with his mouth, 

 imitate with wonderful precision the signal, or call of any 

 bird or animal you can mention. We engaged his services 

 for the rest of the hunt, very much to his satisfaction and 

 our own, as he proved to be a useful adjunct to our camp 

 Mr. Will C. was the handsome and dashing dude of our 

 party. He had a brilliant record as a "masher" on ' Wards 

 ducks" at home, but soon concluded his gun was not a suc- 

 cess on mallards and wild geese, and determined to devote 

 one day with me in paying our respects to the wild turkeys. 

 After an unsuccessful tramp of a couple of miles through 

 the favorite haunts of our chosen game, we emerged into the 

 rosd at a place where the tall trees of the dense forest made 

 i wall as it were, on either side. Just then the note of a 

 lound in full chase after a deer, burst upon our ears. A 

 Moment's listening satisfied us that we were in the line of the 

 Shase, and a3 we stood expectant and ready to give the deer 



a warm reception, a flock of wild turkeys, startled by the 

 approach of the dog, ran into the road some two hundred 

 yards above us and came running down the road directly 

 toward us. They soon rose to wing and came flying straight 

 down the road between the walls of forest trees on either 

 side. The sight was a beautiful one, but it was too much 

 for Mr. C. He unfortunately had no quinine and Mr. Bur- 

 ton was not within reach to supply him, and before the near- 

 est turkey came in range of our guns his excited nerves got 

 the better of his judgment and he'fired both barrels, and lost 

 as fine an opportunity as be will ever have to bag a brace of 

 wild turkeys, right and left. His firing caused tbe flock to 

 separate and take to the woods on either side, but ptill pass- 

 ing in range I killed one, but missed with the second barrel. 

 Mr. C. had in the meantime reloaded and gave them a part- 

 ing shot, but without effect, as they passed. 



In a few minutes my dog ran one into a tree not far off. 

 By careful creeping I got a long shot at it and brought it 

 wounded to the ground. It did not stand on the order of 

 its going, however, and "ran like a turkey." Carrying the 

 dog to the place where it came down he soon got the scent 

 and after a chase of two hundred yards, c-uight and killed it. 

 A young man on horseback, coming along the road soon 

 afterward, kindly consented to take the two turkeys to the 

 camp for us and Mr. C. concluded he had enough of turkey 

 hunting for one day, left me and went back to camp. After 

 remaining quiet for a time, I succeeded in calling up one 

 more of the flock, which I killed. The others would neither 

 answer nor come to call. Returning that afternoon toward 

 camp through the same woods we hud hunted unsuccessfully 

 in the morning, my dog flushed and scattered a flock. 



Selecting a place near where they were flushed, and re- 

 maining quiet for half an hour, I had the pleasure of calling 

 up and killing two fine turkeys at one shot. Having now 

 as many as I wished to carry, I concluded to try an experi- 

 ment. I stood the three dead turkeys up at a convenient 

 distance, near where I had shot the last two, to act as de- 

 coys. Thinking that 1 might in this way kill two or three 

 at a shot. After arranging my decoys, 1 began to call and 

 brought up two. One came and stood almost in the very 

 place where I had just killed the two. But he paid no atten- 

 tion to the decoys and in a few moments both walked off. 

 I might easily have shot the one, but 1 took my chances for 

 two and got neither. After carrying the three already killed 

 about a mile and a half, I considered myself lucky that the 

 others had escaped. The flock of turkeys that ran into the 

 road that morning and flew to Mr. C. and myself, loooked to 

 me, in the distance, as black as ravens, but Mr. C. insisted 

 in camp that night, that they were all sorts of colors. He 

 saw yellow ones and spotted ones, and blue ones, and a 

 general rainbow mixture. 



He had never encountered a flock of wild turkeys before. 

 Thus the time passed rapidly; every day adding to our game 

 supply, while around the camp-fire at night the incidents 

 and jokes of the day added zest to our enjoyment of the 

 occasion. At the end of two weeks we broke camp, having 

 bagged four hundred ducks, thirty wild turkeys, seven wild 

 geese, squirrels without number, and one enormous pelican, 

 measuriug eight feet from tip to tip of its wings. The pelican 

 resembles the swan in general appearance, and is a very rare 

 bird in this part of the country. Its general color is white, 

 but the wing feathers are tipped with black, and so are the 

 wung coverts, or small feathers on the butts of the wings, 

 giving it a beautiful appearance. The distinguishing feature 

 of this bird is its poucn, or food sack. Ic has a beak about 

 eight inches long, from which depends a pliable and self-ad- 

 justing sack, composed of skin resembling india rubber. It 

 is capable, when distended, of holding as much as a pint or 

 more of food. When empty, the pouch contracts so as to 

 be scarcely noticeable. Tbe breast of the bird was covered 

 with a coat of soft feathers and down much thicker than 

 that of a swan. It was a great pity that so fine a specimen 

 could not have been preserved. 



Rarely did a hunting party ever enjoy an outing more, and 

 we left our happy hunting grounds with a resolve to repeat 

 our visit with the next autumnal frost, H. E, Jones. 

 Nashville, Tenth 



CAMP FLOTSAM. 



XXrv.— THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL. 



A LTHOUGH the day which we spent in trving for sal- 

 A mon was ban-en of results, yet we were re joiced to see 

 the last of the blow disappear from the water, and a faint 

 hope rose within us that in spite of what the netter had 

 done, we migbt yet have some sport. Thus far, our outing 

 had been full of disappointment, so far as the fishing was 

 concerned, and a letter or two from A. N. C, who was hav- 

 ing grand success in the Back Bay of Lake Champlain, but 

 served to increase our chagrin. Though our success was in- 

 comparably greater than any possible at Greenwood or the 

 free for all Jakes resorted to by anglers in the vicinity of 

 New York, yet it had been less dazzling than we anticipated. 

 Not that our scores had been insufficient for our needs, but 

 it bad been our ambition to make in an hour or two what 

 would require from sunrise to sunset in the lakes above 

 mentioned. Three years ago this was possible, but the man 

 from the island has ended it all. 



On the morning of the day after our fruitless quest above 

 the bridge, we secured a pail of line perch bait and soon 

 after breakfast were anchored on the long shoal off the 

 upper end of Lost Spring Island in a depth of about ten feet 

 of water. Our tackle was, with the exemption of substitut- 

 ing a hook for the flies, the same as we had used in casting. 

 A furious stake greeted our first bait before it had fairly 

 settled, and in a moment we were engaged in tussle with a 

 four-pound pike, whose escape with only a single gut be 

 tween it and liberty, was assured from the beginning. It 

 was not, however, until we had the fish alongside and 

 thought our game safe, that the catastiophe came. A single 

 flourish of the tail, a wriggle of the body, and the slender 

 gut was cut and the fish was gone. There was no regret at 

 parting, except for the loes of the sproat hoe)k, for pike 

 were rather plentiful. Before our fishing for the forenoon 

 was ended, the calamity twice repeated itself, and another 

 pike and a small mouth bass each left us minus a hook. 

 But these were our only escapes, and the net proceeds of the 

 morning's work were ten bass averaging two pounds apiece. 

 Before we finished, Sabaltis's two girls anchored their skiff 

 near us and enticed the bass in vain for an hour, at the end 

 of which they followed us to camp, where they spent the re- 

 mainder of the day. Tbe older of tbe girl?, whom we called 

 the Princess was about seventeen and had high cheek bones, 

 a dark, sallow skin, and long, coarse, black hair. She was 

 short in stature but well formed, and could swim, row a 

 boat, handle a canoe or chop wood, with all the grace and 

 ease of her brother. The younger one was about ten and 



had regular features, an olive complexion and soft, dark 

 eyes, and bade fair to be a beauty. The former was the 

 Madame's guide and was competent to take care of her mis- 

 tress in any emergency; beside her other accomplishments, 

 she was a most successful fisherman. 



There was a manifest improvement in the fishing after the 

 blow was fairly off the water, but with the date for our 

 breaking camp fixed to the dead certainty, so that we could 

 count the remaining days on our fingers, our enthusiasm was 

 gone and we were satisfied to sit clown and await the end. 

 Instead of fishing, we were willing to drift by the hour in 

 the open lake or idle away the time in the shade of the rocks 

 among the channels between the island. Here were rare op- 

 portunities for reflection, and communion with solitude. To 

 the north and south, east and west across the long stretches 

 of water as far as one could see, not a moving thing was 

 there to distract the thoughts. Islands rose about us on 

 which few men had ever trod, while the signs of civilization 

 on the shores were scant indeed. It was a very paradise for 

 a hermit — at least in the bright summer days, but with six 

 feet of snow and the thermometer at ISO", with norwesters 

 sweeping up the lake for twenty miles, the soul of the 

 anchorite would yparn to cast aside his furs and snowshoes 

 and be transported to the white sand beaches of the gulf. 

 For places where to idle away the time there was little choice 

 between the water and the camp. Each had attractions of 

 its own, aud with a hard attack of laziness, wherever one 

 might be he would long for the other. The island, with its 

 thirty acres of forest, furnished a good roaming place and 

 the bunks in the camp a retreat when a fit ot drowsiness 

 came on. But in these remaining days all that the lake or 

 forest could give of pleasure, was concentrated around the 

 camp-fire. With the incense of the resinous knots was 

 mingled the fragrance from pine and spruce which loomed 

 up darkly behind us, and upon which the firelight, cast, 

 strange and fantastic shadows— the very giants which used 

 to gather in the gloaming in the corners of the old kitchen, 

 and from which we used to flee to the shelter of a mother's 

 apron by the broad fire-place, giants, which now as of old, 

 waved their shadowy arms and danced their weird dances, 

 but from whom the older terror had departed, for fifty years 

 had made the boy a man and a greybeard, one who had 

 faced all the ogres of which these were the '.prototypes, and 

 contended with "the phantoms vague and van which be- 

 leaguer the human soul." But now, the giants and shadowy 

 conception of long ago were naught, there only remained the 

 golden memories, sifted like wheat trom the tares, memories 

 which were born again and came floatiog back in their olden 

 reality to hover over and surround us here. Boyish face?, 

 the companions of many an angling trip through the 

 meadows of the past, sterner faces bionzed in the sports of 

 flood and field, on whom manhood had set the seal of con- 

 secration to loftier duties, aged faces, mellowed by years into 

 the dreams aud sports of youth again, faces all of them now 

 lying in the dust, looked out of the whirl of flame aglow with 

 the ancient light of friendship and love as though they would 

 live over with us all that life's brief dream had been to them. 



It was among these latter days that the Student made Lis 

 way once more to the camp to pay one of his ever welcome 

 visits. Before it was over, we were invited by him to at- 

 tend service at his parish church, fifteen miles from camp, 

 on the following Sunday. Tbe preparations were duly made, 

 and by seven o'clock on Sunday morning breakfast had been 

 finished and we were ready to embark. Our retainers gath- 

 ered at the landing to witness our departure; the chickens 

 assembled on the bank, the "ki"-dog took his position in the 

 bow and the calf hung its head in dejection over the stem. 

 When we pushed off, the latter gave a mournful bellow aud 

 before we were ten rods from shore, it was in the wuier be- 

 yond its depth and swimming lustily in our wake. By the 

 time we had rounded the point where we passed out of its sight, 

 it was a hundred yards from shore and still heading out to 

 sea. We congratulated ourselves that we were rid of the 

 beast, and indulged the hope that it would never touch 

 land again unless it were in the bottom of the lake. But it 

 was not so to be. A half hour later, while the Colonel and 

 Captain were yet making the groves of Garden Island re- 

 sound with their nightly notes, the calf made their landing 

 and, thrusting its head in the open door of the tent, greeted 



the sleepers with a thundering ba-air. "What in , I say 



Jo!" shouted the senior officer, "what's that?" The Cap- 

 tain drew himself up into a sitting posture and calmly sur- 

 veyed the intruder. "Arthur's calf, by Jove, they've un- 

 loaded it on us." But, when an hour afterward it swam 

 after the Captain's boat as he went ashore, and made the 

 laLd half a mile away the suspicion was dropped as ground- 

 less, Had it not repeated the performance, explanat.om 

 would have been in order trom the American camp. 



When we rounded the head of the island we found a 

 strong wind was blowing up the lake, so we hoisted sail and 

 were soon going before it at eight knots an hour. Swiftly 

 we shot by the low outlying islands, turned the headlands 

 and swept through the narrow channels, passed the Brothers' 

 and over Cady's Bay, radiant with the memories of an idyllic 

 day with Truthful James a summer ago, aud in an hour 

 from tbe starting drew up the Pizen Ann on the bank at the 

 end of the bridge. Three or four dirly, miserable looking 

 Indians were lounging about a shelter built against a tree on 

 the hillside as we landed, who greeted the'party with looks 

 of wonder aud a deal of jabbering among themselves. Just 

 over tbe crest of the hill we were welcomed at the house by 

 the Student and his kind-hearted and hospitable household, 

 and after a pleasant hour we were loaded in a large farm 

 wagon and started off for church. The road led over the 

 granite hills for two or three miles, then turned to the west- 

 ward and followed the range which overlooked the lake. 

 We could see it stretching away for five or six miles on the 

 west, until we made another turn to the right and were soon 

 among well cleared and cultivated lands, dotted with com- 

 fortable houses around which were many evidences of thrift. 

 Another turn to the left and we soon came to the plain stone 

 church which marked the end of our journey. The build 

 ing was filled to overflowing, and the worshippers were 

 kneeling at the very threshold as we entered. At the altar 

 stood a gray-haired priest under whose hands was wrought 

 "the mystery of faith 1 ' — the mighty sacrifice of the Catholic 

 church. When he turned to the people it was a kindly face 

 of perhaps forty which looked upon them. This was 

 Father McWilliams, the foremost in the front rank of the 

 priests of Canada, the staunch friend of the Premier, the 

 ripe scholar aud man of culture. After the services were 

 conclude 1, we were most kindly received at the parochial 

 residence. Upon tbe library wall hung a portrait engrav- 

 ing of Sir John A. McDonald and near it a miniature flag of 

 the Union. The Rev. Father is a Yankee, being from Ver- 

 mont, which accounted for the stars and stripes, while in 

 Dominion politics he is a conservative and and an ardent 



