22 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Am 0, 1886' 



CONGBESS AND THE NATIONAL PARK. 

 npHE session of Congress almost-at an end will pass witk- 

 out any legislation favorable to the Yellowstone Park. 



Senator Vest's bill providing for the better government 

 of this reservation, and for the administration of justice 

 within its limits is pending in the Senate but will scarcely 

 be reached during the present session, although it has 

 been reported favorably by the Committee on Territories, 

 and is now on the Senate calendar. 



The House in the Sundry Civil bill appropriated $20,000 

 for the construction of roads in the Park, but failed to 

 provide any funds for the salaries of the Superintendent 

 and his assistants, or for contingent expenses. This was 

 manifestly an attempt to turn over the reservation to the 

 "War Department. There being no funds for their pay- 

 ment, the Superintendent and the Park police would have 

 been dismissed, there would have been no one to look 

 after the reservation, and the Secretary of the Interior 

 was to be authorized to call upon the Secretary of War 

 for troops to do police duty. This would have been a 

 grave misfortune, for such work can be done vastly better 

 by a civil force than by soldiers, and the best interests of 

 the Park requue that it should be, so far as possible, kept 

 tmder the control of one Department of the Government. 



Senator Vest appeared before the Appropriation Com- 

 mittee of the Senate and secured an increase on the House 

 appropriation of $20,000, which makes the sum equal to 

 that heretofore appropriated annually for the pay of the 

 Superintendent and his assistants, contingent expenses 

 and the construction and improvement of roads. When 

 this increased appropriation came up in the Senate it was 

 objected to by Senator Plumb, and earnestly defended by 

 Senator Vest, and was finally agreed to. In conference 

 committee of the two houses the increase was objected 

 to by the House committee, and is reported to have been 

 thrown out. 



The bill granting to the Cinnabar & Clark's Fork Rail- 

 road a right of way through the Park was, as we have 

 noted, taken up some weeks ago in the Senate, and after 

 discussion laid over. It will not come up again at tliis 

 session, but in December a persistent effort will be made 

 to force it through by the same lobby which has been 

 at work for it during the present session. Tlie measure is 

 one of the worst that has ever been set on foot against the 

 Park, and it should be resisted by the friends of the re- 

 servation by every legitimate means. During the present 

 summer a full investigation of several routes to Cooke 

 City vioU probably be made, and when Congress next 

 meets a good deal of information about them will be 

 available. The Third Canon of the Yellowstone was last 

 month examined by a competent person, who pronounced 

 it impracticable for a railroad. 



We regret to state that among two classes of persons 

 there seems to be a desu-e to have the act by which the 

 National Park was created repealed, and the reservation 

 tlu-own open to setttlement. One of these classes is made 

 up of greedy and unscrupulous adventurers and specula- 

 tors, who see in this beautiful region only means for 

 -filling their pockets and care nothing about the inter- 

 ests and rights of the people. The other class consists of 

 members of Congress, who ought to know better, but who 

 regaa-d the Park as a piece of "aesthetic" nonsense, and 

 ridicule the idea of making any appropriation for its pre- 

 servation and improvement. Upon men so densely ignor- 

 ant and possessed of such narrow views, no impression 

 can be made except by the threats of theu constituents to 

 throw them overboard at the next election unless they 

 pay some regard to the public good. 



It is insisted by such men as these that the Park is for 

 the rich and not for the poor. A statement more untrue 

 was never made. Those who have visited the region and 

 seen passing through it the farmers who, in then: own 

 wagons, with their families, have traveled hundreds of 

 miles to see the Park, know well that the proportion of 

 wealthy people who go there is small by comparison with 

 the many who visit it in the most inexpensive— and at 

 the same time the pleasantest— way. 



If the friends of the Park do not meet boldly and ag' 

 gressively the gang of speculators who seek to have it 

 turned over to them for then- private ends, there is little 

 question as to the final result. The money makers and 

 land grabbers will muster in force in Washing-ton next 

 winter, and will make a desperate effort to force raikoads 

 through the Park, and this will be its destruction. 



It is the plain duty of every citizen who appreciates 

 what the Park is to-day and what it may be in the future, 

 to take an active interest in this matter. Each man should 

 endeavor to give expression to his views in such a way 

 that his Congressman shall not be doubtful as to the feel- 

 ings of those who have sent him to Washington to repre- 

 sent their interests. 



The people must insist that their Park shall be reserved 

 for them and not turned over to jobbers and speculators. 



AiMre-sss all communications to the Forest and Stream Puh. Co. 



Room in Alaska.— From Labrador come most disti-ess- 

 ing reports of failure of fisheries and starvation of coast 

 dweUers. The British authorities shoidd in mercy ti-ans- 

 port the survivors, and give them a chance for their lives 

 in more favored regions. In his forthcoming book , " Our 

 New Alaska," Mr. Chas. HaUock suggests that there is 

 room in Alaska for a large population of fishermen. 



CAMPING FOR ITS OWN SAKE. 



HAVE just received a characteristic letter from the 

 Professor, and as some portions of it may interest 

 you, I send them herewith. I last year recommended him 

 to get a copy of "Woodcraft,"' and received his heai'tfelt 

 thanks for the favor. I see that he has it in camiD this 

 season. 



The letter is dated from a certain island, "the 'Blue- 

 berry' of the early navigators" (we having given it that 

 name when first we made its acquaintance twenty-six 

 years ago): 



"Wlienever I come to this island I live over again the 

 brief stay we made here so many years ago, and I revive 

 the faith that you and I shall hold a reunion here some 

 good day. 



' 'I am now writing not more than two rods from the 

 spot where we pitched om* tent. I am more and more im- 

 pressed and fascinated year by year with the beauty of 

 this part of the lake, and with the cosy, convenient and 

 jicturesque character of the island itself. It is very small, 

 Dut it has two excellent beaches, and is well wooded; and 

 it commands superb views both of the lake and of the dis- 

 tant mountains. 



I have somewhat enlarged my outfit, and there are 

 four of us here — my wife, two of the boys and myself. I 

 decided that I could not do better by" the boys than to 

 initiate them into the art of camping out, and then leave 

 it for them to follow up or not, according to their bent; 

 for some are born to camp (you, for instance) and some 

 are not. 



"I have my old A tent, still in fan condition, for the 

 boys to sleep in, and a new wall tent, Oft. Gin. square, 8ft. 

 high and 4ft. wall, which H. and I occupy, and which is 

 the family dining and sitting room ia rainy weather. 



"And speaking of rainy weather reminds me to say 

 that we are just emerging from two solid days of it. 

 Everything is soaked, and my feet have been wet all the 

 time for these two days. 



We get our stores mostly from C. (the boys have gone 

 there now for supplies), and live as comfortably as we do 

 in W. We have salt pork, salt codfish, condensed milk, 

 split peas, potatoes, onions, Indian meal, rice, tea, coffee, 

 etc., etc. H. is a first-rate camp cook, and reads her 

 'Nessmuk' religiously. 



"I cannot help thinking that a good taste of this sort of 

 thing every year is for sedentary people an excellent anti- 

 dote for the slow poison of iudoor life. 



"L. wants to buy this island and make this a regular fea- 

 ture of our yearly vacation, but that is for the future and 

 for the children. " I shall probably take it out as a squatter. 



"Have you made your new tent that you Avi-ote about? 

 I hope so, and that you are at this moment dodging the 

 smoke and plying your axe over your outdoor supper on 

 some of those Michigan lakes or rivers." 



Perhaps the above extracts are too long for yom- col- 

 lunns; but they have a certain value, as being testimony 

 in favor of camp life, from a man on the wi'ong side of 

 fifty, who is no sportsman, never having, so far as I know, 

 killed a single head of game nor caught fifty pounds of 

 fish in his life. He camps that he and his may for a time 

 live face to face with natru-e; and verily, they have then- 

 reward. Kelpie. 

 July 24, 1886. 



SAM LOVEL'S CAMPS.-I. 



BY THE A.UTHOR OF "UNCLE LISHA'S SHOP." 



BESIDE a low-banked waterway among the reddish 

 gray ti-unks of great hemlocks, there stood, one day 

 m the third month of a vear half a long hfctime ago, a 

 shanty of freshly riven slabs with the upper ends slanted 

 together in the form of an A tent. In front of it a fire 

 smoiddered, the slow smoke climbing through the 

 branches that waved their green spray and nodded then- 

 slender-stemmed cones in the rising current of warm 

 vapor. A few muskrat skins, stretched on osier bows, 

 hung drying near by on slim poles placed in tlie crotches 

 of stakes, and two canoes, one a light buch, the other a 

 dugout, lay bottom upward on the bank awaiting the 

 day of use. The shanty was luxuriously bedded with 

 marsh hay and fragrant twigs of hemlocks, overlaid with 

 blankets and buffalo skins, and sti-etchuig out into the 

 light were two pairs of feet, one clad in stout boots, the 

 other in moccasins. Four legs faded away in the dusky 

 interior, till, beyond the knees, the eye was puzzled to 

 follow them. . ^ ^, 



Presently the boots began to stu' and then the owner 

 became cUmly visible sittmg up on his couch. When he 

 had crawled out and scraped a coal from the ashes into 

 his pipe, and having got it satisfactordy alight, stood up 

 and looked at the cloud-flecked sky and out on the ice- 

 bound stream, the tall, wiiy form, and quiet, good- 

 humored, bearded and weather-browned face ot bam 

 Level were fuUv revealed. He half ttu-ned toward the 

 shantv and hglitly touched one of the moccasins with his 

 foot. - "Hello, Antwine!" he called, "be ye gom to sleep 



The moccasins moved a little and a sleepy voice in be- 

 vond said: "Hein? Wliat was be de matter?" 



"Git up an light yer pipe, an' then le's go an' see ye 

 spear a muskrat as you ve ben tellin on. Come! and 

 Sam vigorously poked the moccasins till they were dra^vn 

 into shadow, then reappeared, and Antoine Bisette came 

 hitching after them into the fight and sat rubbmg his 

 eyes as he said: "Bah gosli! Sam, Ah dunno "f Ah won t 

 keel you. Ah dmmo 'f Ah ain"t! You spde 'em up de bes 

 dream Ah never smell all ma laf tam! Onion bihn' m 

 keetly, patack roast in ashins, bull pawt fryin' m paan, 

 moosrat toast on coal! Oh! bah gosh! jes' Ah tiyin mek 

 off ma min' de fus" one Ah'll heat nex", you 11 itolleh -Aan- 

 twine!' an' dey all gone off. Ah'U pooty mad, mcl and 

 he shook his head and smote his fists above it, but the 

 broad grin that foUowed gave the lie to these angry 

 demonstrations. . . i ■ -j. 



"Wal, I swan, it is too bad, Antwine, seem t we haint 

 bed nothin'so fur but pork an' dry bread. But well 

 make up fur 't bimeby. Lemme see; yom- onion smeU 

 must ha ben the skunk "t ye ketched in yer mmk trap 

 la^' nio-ht. The pertater smeU I d'know where ye got, 

 eriess % was a last year's one. The bull paout smell is m 



the futiu-', an' the mushrat smell is consid'able present, 

 but not "s much 's I wish 'twas. But fight yer pipe an' 

 git yer mushrat prod, an" le's go an' see yeVse it," and 

 Sam sang from the ballad of "Brave Wolf"' these encour- 

 aging lines: 



"Cliee-er up your liearts, young men. 



Let naw-tliing fright you; 

 Be a— w— y a galliant mind, 

 Let tha-a-at delight you!" 



So the Canadian got his black pipe ablast, and taking a 

 one-tined spear and an axe from the shanty, annoimced 



his readiness to start. 



They went out through the sere rushes, flags and 

 sedges that lay lapped by the winds and snows of many a 

 winter storm, over the frozen marsh, to where the chan- 

 nel of the "Slang" wound clearly defined under the snow 

 and ice, like the street of an aboriginal village, with here 

 and there set beside it tlie hut of the muskrat. Away 

 from the unwooded eastern bank stretched the wide, flat 

 fields of the Champlain Valley, yet dazzling white with 

 the slowly melting snows of the persistent northern win- 

 ter, though in places the pall was rent where the knolls 

 and southerly banks of the tawny earth had come to the 

 surface again, and zigzag lines of fences cropped out 

 above tbe drifts. A mile back the gray and dark green 

 hills arose, and along the eastern horizon ran the hazy 

 wall of the Green Mountains, topped with the shining 

 towers of Mansfield and Camel's Hump. Westward from 

 the standpoint of Sam and his companion an uninter- 

 rupted forest of hemlocks and tall pines seemed to reach 

 to where the Adirondacks' scarred steeps gleamed through 

 their veil of haze. Over the landscape bent a warm- 

 tinted sky with fleeces of white cloud drifting slowly 

 across it before a gentle southern breeze. The tempered 

 air, a tinge of purple in the gray of the water maples' 

 spray, the caw of returning crows, and the long resonant 

 roU of the woodpeckers' drum beat gave unmistakable 

 signs of the coming of spring — yet many days off, but 

 surely comiag. 



The fall after Uncle Lisha's departure to his new home 

 in the West. Sam had taken the old man's advice into 

 serious consideration, and finally for various reasons con- 

 cluding to follow it, he bargained for the making of a lot 

 of traps and took Antoine as x>artner and instructor as 

 well, for Sam had not much experience in trapping musk- 

 rats, those fiu--bearers being not at all plenty in the rapid, 

 weedless streams of the hill country, where all his hunt- 

 ing and trapping had until now been done. Long before 

 sleighing gave any sign of fafiing they had tlieir boats, 

 traps and provisions hatded down to the trapping ground, 

 built their rude but cozy shelter that was for some weeks 

 to be their home, and were now waiting for the opening 

 of small-craft navigation, when they would begin trap- 

 ping in earnest. They had set a few tiaps in the muskrat 

 houses, chopping out "a small opening to the bed, whereon 

 the trap was set, and the covering carefuUy replaced. 

 From the houses bo taken possession of rose the tally 

 sticks, to which the trap chains were fastened, like muii- 

 ature flagstaffs. To one not so marked Antoine now led 

 the way. "Go steel naow, Sam," he said in a low voice 

 as they they drew near it; "not mek it no more nowse as 

 leetlv mouses. Naow. Ah m's goin' stroke it raght in 

 dar!'- and carefully laving down his axe, he drove the 

 spear into the center of the rough cone of flags, mud and 

 sedges, a fittle below the top and on the south side. 



"Dab, seh, Sam, ant All tol" you? Ahll gat she! Ah 11 

 feel of it heem weegle! Ant you'll see?" cried the de- 

 lighted Frenchman, and when he quit his hold on the 

 spear staff Sam saw that it was violently shaken. Antoine 

 now chopped into the house and took out a muskrat writh- 

 ing in agony and bitmg at the cruel spear that impaled 

 him. The half -savage Canuck was in no haste to dispatch 

 him, but Sam dealt the poor brute a kick in tlie head that 

 ended his misery at once. 



"What for you do dat, Sam? You wait mmeet you see 

 that leetly dev' faght lak a cossi Ha\ e it some funs!" 



"There, Antwine," said Sam with an expression of 

 strong disgnst upon his face, "you need prod no more on 

 'em on my 'caount." _ ^,,14.* ai 



"Hein?" cried Antome m astomshment, "what lor Ali 

 don't, Sam?" ^ , r •■ ,1, ^ 



' 'Wal, it's too dum savage. The s too much Inj m baout 

 that for me." „ ^ ,, , ^ -i. 



"Ant you want it moosrat? Don t dat goode way git 

 heem, ain't it? Ah'U git forty, prob'ly twenty so, m one 

 day! You s'pose he ain't lak it jus" well as be ketch m 



you'll got foolish motion in you' head, seh!' 

 "Wal, I s"pose I hev, but I can't help it. 



, a. c'pose i nev. out. i can t neip 11-. I know trap- 

 ur^ X. onhuman business the best way you c'n fix it, a 

 ketchin' critters bv the laigs an' lettin' on em suffer, but 

 the' don't seem no other way o" gittin' some on 'em. A 

 deadfall, 'at knocks the life aout on "em fust dab, is the 

 only human trap the' is, but they hain't ^-uth shucks for 

 mushrat. But when you come to set for muslnat in the 

 water, they draound quick an I guess don't mind it much, 

 bein' they're so uster the water. We'U wait a speU. an 

 git 'em tiiat way." 



Further discussion was stopped by the shouts of a man 

 who was comhag toward them over the ice at the top of his 



^^"Hello there! What in thunder ye duin on?" and as he 

 came up to them, breathless with xm wonted haste, for he 

 was short and fat, bruit, as Sam thought, more tor sitting 

 than running, he panted out gustily: "What m thunder 

 an' cnms be ye duin' on, ketclun' my mushrats?^^ Clear 

 aout? ye cussed thieves, an' le' my mushrats alone." 



"Is this raly one of yom- mushrats?'" Sam asked, pick- 

 ing up the animal and examining it closely, "I don't see 

 no ear mark ner brand on 't, but if it's yom-n, prove prop- 

 erty, pay charges an' take it away." 1 



''Wal " said the newcomer, seating hunself on the musk- 

 rat house and wiping Ids hot face with liis coat sleeve, 

 "you don't blong here; you ha' no business here! These 

 is' ao?.«' rats!" . , , 



"Oh. aoiir rats," said Sam qmetly, "yes they be aour 

 mushrats— when we git 'em, not afore. You take_your 

 sheer, an' I'll take mine, 'f we c'n git 'em. And i m a 

 groin' to git mine 'f I know haow." 



"I tell ve," the man reiterated hotly, "ye dont blong 

 here; ye ha' no business here! Thunder an' guns! you re 

 dev'lish putty fellers hain't ye?" . 



"Don't b'long here? I'm a V'monter, an five m this 

 caounty, an' was horned and raised in it. Who give ye 

 I these mushrats? D' you own tliis 'ere marsh.^ 



