156 



FOREST ANt) STREAM. 



[Aug. U, 1895. 



MY FRIEND, THE DOCTOR. 



I think that my dear old friend Dr. K. was one of the 

 most thoroughly companionable men I ever met, but 

 paradoxical as it may seem, he possessed a very irritable 

 disposition, and at times was given to fierce outbursts of 

 anger. There was nothing, however, in the slightest 

 degree malicious about them, for they were merely fieiy 

 offshoots of an impetuous and as I knew keenly sympa- 

 thetic and very kind heart. Indeed, there was something 



?uite engaging to me in these temperamental squalls, and 

 confess to having frequently slyly plotted to lure the 

 Doctor to a rise. 



On the other hand, even under conditions calculated to 

 try men's dispositions to the utmost, he was one of the 

 most patient men I ever saw, meeting irritating disap- 

 pointments and annoyances with a placid, unruffled good 

 nature that was at times my astonishment and admiration. 

 These occasions were for the greater part incidental to 

 days afield with dog and gun or rod, for the Doctor was 

 quite as ardent an angler as hunter. Indeed, I think that 

 he was quite the most enthusiastic sportsman that I ever 

 saw, but, strange as it may seem at first thought, the size 

 of his bag seemed to have but little weight in determining 

 the amount of pleasure he extracted from those "days of 

 living," as he called them, as distinguished from those 

 other days in the town, when people merely "existed," he 

 said. 



I do not mean, however, to have it understood that he 

 was indifferent in any way to the element of sport on 

 these occasions, for I have many times seen his eye kindle 

 and face flush as he described some particularly difficult 

 kill or some unusually fine fish brought to creel after a long 

 and stubborn fight; but he was a great lover of nature, and 

 the enjoyment he derived at times from the pictures she 

 spread before him transcended any of the other pleasures 

 of the day. 



Thus, I have seen him on many occasions, when fishing 

 a stream whose every pool and riffle held prizes that 

 would tempt most anglers to ceaseless efforts, drop down 

 and in the enjoyment of some most inviting prospect 

 forget all about the idle rod lying by his side. 



Again, too, in those rare autumn days whose hazy, 

 golden hours seem to the eager sportsman, alas, so very, 

 very short, I have known him to sit for hours, seemingly, 

 on some old log or grassy bank, gazing with deep, placid 

 joy on some particularly striking bit of scenery, utterly 

 unmindful of the cheery piping of Bob White and a 

 numerous family near by, and the eager whines and 

 pleading actions of his restive dog. 



I have often reproached him at these times, asking why 

 he would thus sit idly by and throw away precious time, 

 but he would reply with a deep-seated smile of content-' 

 ment upon his face, that he thanked heaven he was not 

 such an utterly unappreciative dullard as I, that I should 

 have remained in the hum-drum town and not desecrated 

 with my presence surroundings the rare beauties of 

 which I utterly failed to understand; that hunting was a 

 mere incident of such a day, a pleasing way to beguile the 

 intervals between such golden moments as he had been 

 enjoying. 



He was, too, continually doing and saying the most 

 whimsical and amusing things when actively engaged in 

 sport. Thus, one day when snipe-shooting together, we 

 became slightly separated, I following up a boggy bit of 

 ground leading slightly to the right of the main marsh we 

 were on. I failed to start a bird, but as I heard the Doc- 

 tor's gun at regular intervals I concluded that he was hav- 

 ing very fair sport. In a short time I swung back on to 

 the main marsh, and after proceeding some little distance 

 jumped a snipe, which I killed. The Doctor was approach- 

 ing me at the time, and when he came up to me he said in 

 a very lugubrious and somewhat injured tone of voice: 

 "Well, I hope you feel better now; you've gone and 

 spoiled my day's sport for me." 



"What do you mean?" I asked, naturally somewhat sur- 

 prised at his words. 



"Simply that I had a day's sport marked out with that 

 snipe," he replied, "and you come up with your brutal, 

 murderous gun and ruin all my plans." 



"Have you been shooting at the same bird all the time?" 

 I asked, a glimmer of the Doctor's meaning beginning to 

 come to my mind. 



"Certainly," he replied, with a rather resentful and in- 

 jured air, "and I should probably have been pleasantly 

 engaged in the same occupation four hours hence if it 

 had not been for your murderous stupidity. Indeed, I 

 may say that the snipe and I had arrived at a perfect un- 

 derstanding regarding the matter. Naturally the bird 

 seemed a little nervous at first, doubtless mistrusting my 

 intentions, but he soon came to understand tbat he had 

 practically nothing to fear, and thereafter conducted 

 himself in a manner which seemed clearly to indicate 

 that he really enjoyed the situation. As for me, I had all 

 the excitement of a good shot at easy range, with the 

 pleasant assurance that the event would be repeated in- 

 definitely at frequent intervals." 



It was all said in the most sober manner possible, and 

 with a certain injured air, as though he really felt that 

 he had a grievance against me. 



How well, too, do I remember another occasion in 

 northern Michigan when, resting a moment alongside a 

 trout stream, I was the witness to a very amusing incident 

 which befell the Doctor, and which drew from him a 

 monologue which tested my powers of self-control to the 

 utmost, for I was fearful that a betrayal of my presence 

 would check the flow of words, which, under the circum- 

 stances, seemed more exquisitely funny than anything I 

 ever listened to. 



He had reached a particularly inviting pool, whose 

 dark, shady depths instantly suggested the abiding place 

 of royalty. Owing to trees and bushes, however, it was 

 only possible to reach it from one place, and that was on 

 the steep, sloping sides of a large rock just on the edge of 

 the stream. Its surface was so smooth, howevtr, that it 

 offered very little foothold, and to slip meant a certain 

 plunge into the cold pool just below it. The Doctor evi- 

 dently appreciated this, for he surveyed the situation for 

 some little time, evidently loath to trust himself where 

 disaster seemed so imminent. The pool, however, looked 

 so tempting— doubly so because it was so difficult to get 

 at— that the Doctor at last cast aside his fears and slowly 

 clambered on to the rock for a cast. 

 Scarcely had his lure touched the water before there 



was a sudden flash of colors from the dark depths and 

 then a beautiful trout cleaved the waters in his fierce up- 

 ward rush. The Doctor fastened him, but in the excite- 

 ment of the moment forgot all about his precarious foot- 

 ing, and just as he struck the trout his feet shot out from 

 under him and he plunged into the pool underneath. As 

 he shot down he involuntarily threw up his hands, with 

 the result that his line was fastened in a tree above, 

 while from its branches there dangled and flopped about 

 a trout which I should think would weigh nearly, if not 

 quite, a pound. The water did not reach much above the 

 Doctor's waist, and I shall never forget the look of 

 mingled surprise, anxiety and disgust upon his face as he 

 contemplated his own position and that of the trout. The 

 fish, however, didn't propose to be hung up in any such 

 style as that, and after a moment's fierce struggle dropped 

 back into the stream. 



Then it was that the Doctor's disgust became uncon- 

 trollable, and after a moment's contemplation of his 

 snarled line and the treacherous stono which had so 

 cruelly undone him, he broke forth as follows: "Doc 

 K. . you're an old ass. You never did know much, but 

 you're getting so that you don't know anything at all. 

 Didn't I tell you not to go out on that stone? that you'd 

 surely fall in? and yet, like an old mutton-head, you went 

 right out there and promptly fell in, of course. But that 

 wasn't enough for you, you old idiot, you must go and 

 lose the biggest trout you ever hooked, and that, too, 

 when you had him so well fastened that he could never 

 have got away if you had only kept him in the water. 

 What in the devil did you want to try to throw him over 

 the tree for? What could you ever have been thinking 

 of? O, well, there's no use talking to you. You don't 

 know enough to go ashore. You're just simply hope- 

 ltss." 



The tone of his voice, the expression of his face, his 

 position there in the water — all lent an effect to this speech 

 such as no words of mine can give adequate conception of, 

 I had been choking with suppressed merriment, and as 

 he concluded I burst forth into roars of laughter. 



"O, you're there, are you?" said the Doctor, with a fine 

 scorn in his voice, "I was just thinking that the picture 

 wasn't quite complete without your presence. You sort of 

 round it out and fill out the gaps, which I, with all my 

 ability in this direction, never could hope to. O, laugh, 

 you big calf," he continued, thoroughly exasperated at 

 my continued laughter. "You can't help it, I know; but 

 I thank God that, as much of a fool as I am, I haven't yet 

 arrived at the idiotic laughing stage." Then he made his 

 way to the shore, and proceeded to disentangle his line 

 frona the limb upon which it had caught. It was but a 

 minute or so, however, before he had regained his usual 

 good nature, and was laughing and joking over his dis- 

 comfort in the jolliest manner possible. 



How well, too, do I remember an incident which befell 

 us while on a hunting trip in Kansas, wherein a 

 thoroughly characteristic fit of rage on the Doctor's part — 

 justifiable, he always asserted — broke up a day's hunt, and 

 placed me in an exceedingly uncomfortable situation. If 

 there was any one object in creation toward which the 

 Doctor entertained a violent, Unconquerable loathing, it 

 was a pot-hunter. Indeed, it was very amusing to hear 

 him fume and inveigh against this individual, who, he 

 hotly declared, was deserving of a long term in the peni- 

 tentiary. On several occasions he has had violent 

 quarrels with them, denouncing them in very unparlia- 

 mentary language, and once the dispute waxed so fierce 

 that it looked as though it would end in a shooting 

 affray, the p, h. threatening to fill the Doctor with lead 

 if he made any demonstration against him. In fact, it 

 was only with the greatest difficulty that I succeeded in 

 dragging the Doctor away and, I really believe, in pre- 

 venting an outbreak of hostilities. I make these observa- 

 tions for the purpose of showing the Doctor's violent 

 prejudice in this matter, inasmuch as it is intimately 

 connected with the incident which I am about to relate. 



He had met me in Kansas City in the latter part of 

 November, and we had gone out to a small town on the 

 McPherson branch of the Santa Fe where quail were said 

 to be very plentiful. This we found to be the case, and 

 we had delightful sport, our bag running from thirty to 

 fifty birds to the gun a day. One day we were accom- 

 panied by a resident of the place named Benson, whom I 

 had known for two or three years. He claimed to be 

 something of a sportsman and was very anxious, he said, 

 to see our dogs work, concerning which he had heard 

 some great stories from our driver. 



We had gone a mile or mora from the town, I should 

 think, when suddenly we noticed a fine large covey of 

 birds sitting in the grass by the side of the road. We 

 stopped and were proceeding to put our guns together, 

 when suddenly, to our great surprise, Benson, without 

 saying a word, fired deliberately at the birds as they were 

 huddled together upon the ground. 



The Doctor's face was a study. For a moment a look 

 of complete, overwhelming surprise was reflected upon 

 it, and then, as he saw some of the wounded birds flop- 

 ping about on the ground, and realized what Benson had 

 really done, an exceedingly dark and ominous storm 

 gathered upon his face, and the lightning of fierce indig- 

 nation flashed from his eyes. 



"Did you shoot at those birds on the ground?" he asked 

 his voice fairly quivering with suppressed rage. 



"Yes," replied Benson, but the grin upon his face had 

 faded very perceptibly, for he had begun to realize that 

 his act was very distasteful to us both, and especially to 

 the Doctor. 



What a withering look my companion did bend upon 

 him, and then turning to me he said, in a voice almost 

 choking with anger: "You and this man can hunt to- 

 gether, if you want to, but I'm through so long as he is in 

 the party. You can go on and I will go back to town." 



"What's the matter?" asked Benson, as though ignorant 

 of what had so aroused the Doctor's anger. 



"Matter?" roared the Doctor, Benson's manner and 

 question seeming to sweep away every particle of the re- 

 straint which he had evidently tried to place upon him- 

 self. "Why, the matter is that I don't consider myself 

 safe with a man who would pot a covey of quail out in 

 the open ground, without any cover within a mile of 

 them. I think a man who would do that would shoot a 

 man in the back for fifteen cents, if he got the chance I 

 will bid you, gentlemen, good day." And with that 'he 

 turned about and marched back toward town. 



"Come, Doc," I said, making an effort to mollify him 

 ' don t let this spoil our day's sport. I don't think Benson 

 realized what he was doing, and I am sure the thing will 



not happen again. Come back here and let's go 

 on." 



Turning about rather Blowly as if to emphasize his 

 words he replied: "You can go on, but I shall never dis- 

 grace myself hunting with a man who would deliberately 

 pot a covey of quail in the open." And with that he re- 

 sumed his way and nothing I could say had the slightest 

 effect upon him. 



As I said in the beginning the day's sport was spoiled, 

 and I was placed in a very uncomfortable position with 

 reference to Benson. The latter hardly seemed to know 

 what to make of the Doctor's angry outburst and depart- 

 ure, but consoled himself after a little with the observa- 

 tion that my friend was apparently rather excitable at 

 times, as well as somewhat cranky. 



I could continue almost indefinitely relating these 

 anecdotes of the Doctor, but the ones I have told will 

 serve to illustrate the odd characteristics of my friend. As 

 may be readily imagined, he had a number of enemies; 

 for, as is already apparent to the reader, he was at times 

 inclined to speak his mind very freely, but to his friends 

 he was ever the most loyal, loving and ingenuous being 

 tbat ever lived. God rest his noble soul. Sancho. 



MY FIRST CARIBOU. 



It was the last week of September in the fall of '93 

 when all arrangements had been completed for our annual 

 hunting trip to Maine woods. 



My friends Mel and Somes, with whom I Was an invited 

 guest, had decided to try the east branch waters of the 

 Penobscot this year, having hunted on the west branch 

 waters for the past twelve years. 



We left Gloucester, Mass., on the 5 P. M. train for 

 Salem, thence to Newburyport, where we made connec- 

 tions with Pullman for Bangor, arriving there at 5 A. M. 

 After a hearty breakfast we took an accommodation train 

 for Mattawam keag. Arriving there we found Eoy al Reed 

 waiting for us with one of those famous Bar Harb ;r buck- 

 boards and span. We first went down to the hotel, where 

 we changed our city togs for knockabouts, and if you'll 

 believe it the transformation was so complete that Eeed, 

 after looking around, failed to recognize me and asked 

 Somes where the Doctor was, my appearance being not 

 unlike one of the goodly number of loafers who stood 

 near, eager to see any fresh arrivals, or hear any bit of 

 news that might be going on. 



It wasn't long before we were well under way on the old 

 stage road between Mattawamkeag and Patten and a jolly 

 crowd we were. It was a delightful day and there was 

 much to delight the eyes of the lover of natural beauty. 

 It was near sundown when we arrived at Patten and put 

 up at the hotel; although somewhat tired and feeling the 

 cravings of the inner man we had enjoyed our twenty- 

 six mile ride immensely. 



At 6:30 the next morning our team was at the door and 

 we took the Shin Pond road. The first ten miles the 

 road was in very good condition, but it grew worse and 

 worse. We passed Shin Pond at 10 o'clock, and as the 

 board was not a very strong one and the road was so 

 rough, Mel and I thought we would try walking, and 

 found it so much more comfortable that we didn't get into 

 the vehicle again, but walked the rest of the way, eleven 

 miles, to Sebois Lake farm. We enjoyed it, being con- 

 stantly on the alert for partridges, and* had the extreme 

 good luck of bagging thirteen plump ones without get- 

 ting out of sight of the road. It being a nice warm day 

 they had come out into the road to wallow and pick up 

 oats that had dropped from the toters' teams. The birds 

 were very tame, and I didn't have much trouble in cut- 

 ting their heads off with my .38-40 rifle, Mel having the 

 only shotgun in the party. Once we were called back to 

 help get the team out of a difficulty, the brake under the 

 wagon had refused to pass over a high boulder that was 

 in the middle of the road. It took our united efforts to 

 free the vehicle. 



At Sebois farm we had a late dinner, and after a con- 

 sultation decided to put on to First Grand Lake that 

 night. We secured a fresh spirited span and a heavier 

 buckboard, with Joe, a half-breed, as driver. It was a 

 wood wagon. Securely packing everything away in the 

 box under the seat, we held on for dear life, and what 

 jouncing and bumping. In one instance there were two 

 logs missing in one bridge; when the horses came to 

 these holes they would sort of balance a second, then give 

 a leap and clear them, when the forward wheel would 

 diop into the space with the horses on the jump you can 

 well imagine what a bounce we would get. Not stretch- 

 ing it one bit we would clear the seat 6in. and come 

 down, oh, so hard. What's everbody's business is no . 

 one's, and if a teamster could possibly get along he would 

 never stop to make repairs. In many instances trees had 

 blown across the road, and rather than cut out the ob- 

 struction they would bush out a new path around the 

 blow-down, making a new road for themselves and any 

 that might come after. Thus it was a very tortuous j 

 course through the woods. 



At this stage of the journey it was so late that the dark- 

 ness had become intense, and some of the party had 

 grave fears as to our reaching Harvey's camp in safety;; 

 but Joe was very reassuring, and succeeded in calming 

 our fears. You can well imagine how welcome was the- 

 light from that cabin window when we finally came out 

 into the clearing. We all joined in a rousing war-whoop 

 which brought out the whole family to see who were the 

 disturbers of their universal quiet. 



Our guideB, Fred. Fowler, Elmer and Dan Hale from 

 Med way, had started four days in advance of the party to 

 pole the canoes forty miles up the river. The water was 

 low and rapids many, necessitating three carries, one a 

 distance of three-fourths of a mile. On reaching the lake 

 they had selected a charming little cove in back on 

 Louse Island, and set about at once to fix up camp. The 

 tents, provisions, etc., had been taken in over the road by 

 a toter from Mattawamkeag. By prearrangement upon 

 reaching Harvey's three shots were fired to inform our 

 guides, who were three miles away across the lake, that 

 we had arrived. Supper was hardly over when they put 

 in an appearance to carry us across. At camp we found 

 everything in apple-pie order. There were two tents for 

 Bleeping and one large fly tent in which we dined, The 

 table was made of spruce splits and the seats were very 

 unique in the same rustic style. The beds were of spruce 

 boughs with a canvas covering, and plenty of blankets. 



The first day in camp it rained, so Somes and I tried 

 fishing, but our efforts were not crowned with very much 

 success. However, we caught enough for supper. During 



