142 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[March 15, 1888. 



in excess of what yachtsmen were well content with a 

 few years since. Going down to the next size, 56ft., it is 

 practically the old limit, but 1ft. longer, and if built up 

 to, would give a large cabin, one very good stateroom 

 for the owner, a fine ladies' cabin aft, and perhaps an 

 extra room for a guest, far more room than Clara or 

 Cinderella; in fact a steel yacht of 56ft. l.w.l., with clip- 

 per stem and good counter, would have nearly the cabin 

 space <>f the cutter Wenonah. The 75ft. class would, in 

 all probability, prove a successor to the present large 

 ■ •lass, being better within the requirements of the men 

 who care for racing in single-stickers than a Volunteer 

 CM? Mayflower. A keel boat of this size, in steel, would 

 give about the cabin space of Puritan. 



The question of such a change as the replacing of the 

 70ft, class by two now ones was very carefully discussed 

 Huong yachtsmen, and the weight of opinion was in 

 favor of it as a movement for the general good. When 

 it came up before the New York Y. C, however, matters 

 soon took a different turn. The owner of one of the 

 j -adits interested, the G-racie, opposed the motion, urg- 

 ing that it was an injustice to the present splendid fleet 

 be admit a yacht 5ft. longer to race against them, and the 

 owner of the Fanny made a similar plea. Mr. Busk, 

 former owner of Madcap and Mischief, quietly knocked 

 all the weight out of the objection by remarking that he 

 had repeatedly raced a yacht of 61ft. against others of 

 67 to 70ft. with much pleasure and profit, also a yacht of 

 4?,\ t. against others up to 50ft. and over. He might have 

 .aided that Gracie. 70ft.. and Fanny. 65ft. 9in., had been 

 handsomely beaten on elapsed time in a fair race at Mar- 

 blehcad last August by a keel craft of 63ft. Arguments 

 of this kind were not wanted, the New York Y. C. is 

 nothing if not sentimental, and its holiest feelings were 

 aroused for the protection of these sacred relics, the 

 whole plan was promptly voted down, the agreement 

 with the other clubs was at an end, and a movement that 

 fe becoming daily more important was stopped for the 

 rii.io. if not entirely killed. No consideration of the effect 

 upon designing and racing, no thought of the good or 

 bad effects to follow, only protection for the ancient 

 I lookers once so dear to New York, and an assertion of 

 the utter independence of the New York Y. C. 



As the matter then stood the classification had been 

 adopted by both the Larchmont and Atlantic clubs, and 

 Li. a partial extent by the Seawanhaka C. Y. C. The 

 next move of the New York Y. C. was to propose another 

 division of the classes, which was adopted at a special 

 meeting last week, as follows: 



Sloops. Cn iters and Yawls.— Class 1, all over 80ft.; class 2, 80ft. 

 and over 70f».: class 8, 70ft. and over 6lf fc.; class 4, 61ft. and over 

 *>nft.; class 5, 63ft. and over 40ft.; class 6, all of 46ft. and under. 

 Yac hts launched prior to .lirac, 1888, exceeding the higher limit 

 in any class l>y a fraction of a foot shall be included in that class. 



Similar changes were made in the schooner class, but 

 we need not notice them as the case is precisely the same 

 as with the singlestickers. 



The case of Fanny is a very amusing one, showing how 

 an owner can deliberately work against his own inter- 

 ests. Had the original classification been adopted, with 

 the accompanying clause as proposed, Fanny would have 

 been the. largest vessel in the 65ft. class, with Stranger, 

 Thetis, Huron, Mischief, Arrow and Hildegarde below 

 her. and with the aid of time allowance she could have 

 won sometimes when the weather favored her. The re- 

 sult of her owner's action has been to keep her in a class 

 where she is outmodeled, outbuilt, and can hope to win 

 only by aid of some tremendous fluke. She will have to 

 give time for about 4ft. of length to Bedouin, Shamrock, 

 Titania, and the new steel Auchincloss boat, an utterly 

 hopeless undertaking. 



.As to the respective merits of this classification com- 

 pared with the other, had this been jjresented Dv its pres- 

 ent sponsors in the first place they might have been 

 discussed, but now it is not worth while, as the whole 

 point of the case lies in the fact that the New York Y.V., 

 which would be considered the leader in American 

 yachting, took no action in the matter until other clubs 

 had done so: then, when it was plain that it must follow, 

 not lead these clubs, it went to work deliberately to hinder 

 the good work for unity and system which they had begun, 

 and now seeks to destroy it all and set up a new stmcture 

 in its place. Whether or no it is working for the interests 

 of national yachting is a question that all may judge for 

 themselves. 



©great as the influence of the New York Y. C. has 

 always been, thanks not to what it has lately done but to 

 its age, numbers and traditions; it is certain that the 

 combined action of three progressive and energetic rac- 

 ing clubs could successively uphold the step they have 

 taken, but one of these is likely to follow in the wake of 

 the New York Y. C. . the committee of the Seawanhaka 

 C. Y. C. having recommended the adoption of the New 

 York classes in place of those already approved by the 

 club. It has also been made to appear, though no 

 authority Is given for the statement, that the Atlantic Y. 

 . C. iB willing to repudiate its action and follow the New 

 York. 



If the New York Y. C. had shown any disposition to | 

 aid the work or to pass intelligent criticism on what the j 

 others had done, the case would be altogether different, j 

 but, as it now stands, the action of the club can only be l 



considered as an attempt to assert its superiority over the 

 other New York clubs and to teach them that their place 

 is after, not in advance of the great New York Y. C. 

 Such being the case, all friends of yachting will look 

 eagerly to see a display ol independence and backbone 

 on the part of the other clubs that will enable them to 

 hold successfully the position for the advancement of 

 yachting interests which they have already taken, and to 

 put through successfully an important measure. 



It must be remembered that the main point in dispute, 

 the existence of the 75ft. class, is now supported by the 

 Eastern, Larchmont, and Atlantic, three powerful clubs, 

 and if the Seawanhaka C. Y. C. cooperates with them 

 they will govern at least seven regular regattas in each 

 season, besides extra matches, to the single annual regatta 

 sailed under New York Y. C. rules. A 75ft. yacht could 

 then be built that can enter all these events and still have 

 a show for the Brenton's Eeef Cup, in fact all she would 

 be debarred from would be the N. Y. Y. C. annual, and 

 perhaps a race or two on the cruise under New York 

 rules, in fact the balance of power lies entirely in the 

 hands of the four clubs mentioned if they care and dare 

 to use it. 



THE BOCK CLIMBERS. 



XII.— A NIGHT RIDE. 



A FTER the Rhymer had departed, several days were 

 spent quietly about camp and on the mountains. 

 A little game was killed, a few photographs taken and 

 — tnost remarkable of all— a new arrival welcomed to the 

 lake. 



One morning as Appekunny and Yo sat upon the beach 

 in front of camp, attending to some hides, they saw 

 appear on the crest of one of the ridges on the other side 

 of the lake, a mounted man, and, a moment later, a four- 

 horse team. At first they thought that it was Joe Kipp, 

 who had half promised to come out and make a hunt 

 with them, but the glass, when it was brought to bear on 

 the animals and wagon, showed that it was a soldier 

 outfit. The high sky-blue wagon was easily recognized, 

 and, as if to make assurance doubly sure, it was pres- 

 ently followed by three or four men on foot. They 

 passed on up the lake, and although a couple of rifle shots 

 were fired to advise them of the camp's position, they 

 were not seen again until the next day. Then, however, 

 Appekunny, while out hunting for the horses, which had 

 crossed the Inlet and were feeding on the fiat, came upon 

 their camp, and Lieutenant B. returned with him to the 

 tent by the lake. The meeting was a pleasant one, and 

 after chatting a while, and getting all the latest news from 

 the States, horses were saddled, and the three rode off 

 up the lake and took some pictures. 



Just as they were starting out, Jack rode into camp, 

 having safely returned from the settlement. He brought 

 a last word of good-bye from the Rhymer, and the good 

 news that the latter had safely started for the railroad . 

 On their return to camp it was determined to take 

 advantage of the still evening to ferry all their posses- 

 sions down to the flat at the foot of the lower lake. 

 There they would make a cache of the greater part of 

 the baggage, and loading two mules with their bedding 

 and a week's provisions would start for Swift Current. 

 Lieutenant B. was asked to join them, and to stay with 

 them as long as he felt that he could. Accordingly camp 

 was broken and everything carried down to the beach 

 and loaded into the boat, and about 7 o'clock in the even- 

 ing just after it had fairly become dark, the boat swung 

 off the shore out into the dark waters gleaming under 

 the bright moonlight, and the slow steady stroke of the 

 oars told that the men were off for the end of the lake. 

 It remained for Yo to gather the horses and mules, drive 

 across the Inlet, down the other side of the lake and 

 then across the river to the flat, Then, having selected 

 a good spot for the camp, he was to kindle a fire on the 

 beach which should serve as a beacon to guide the boat- 

 men to their haven. 



It was seven or eight miles down to the camping place, 

 and a beautiful bright moonlight night for the ride. 

 Lieutenant B. had come down to watch the boat move 

 off, and a few moments after it had disappeared, Yo had 

 gathered the stock from the flat back of where camp 

 had been and started them across the Inlet. Then his 

 companion bade him good night, promising to be on 

 hand by noon next day to join them on their excursion 

 up Swift Current, and Yo was alone. 



For perhaps hah a mile the animals went on very well, 

 but it was a bad time of day to drive them, for it was 

 just the hour for feeding. Presently they came to a 

 place where the grass was thick and sweet, and there 

 with one accord they scattered out and began to feed. 

 Each individual animal had to be ridden after and started 

 along the trail, and the moment the rider ceased to urge 

 it and turned back after another, it would stop and go to 

 feeding again. The stock did not like the idea of leaving 

 this place where they had been for several weeks, and 

 first one and then another would turn off and try to break 

 back. Among some rough ridges, where the dead quak- 

 ing aspens grew thick, thin white branches shining like 

 silver in the moonlight, they all scattered out and push- 

 ing as far as possible into the dead brush, began to feed 



again. Then Yo had to break his way in, get beyond 

 them and drive them out, and the calm way in which the 

 mules would stand with their ears thrown forward and 

 look at him until he had come almost near enough to 

 strike them was peculiarly irritating. By the time he 

 had driven them across the Inlet flat and up on to the 

 south side of the lake, the herder was in a frame of mind 

 which was not at all in keeping with the calm loveliness 

 of the quiet night. The horses kept their tempers, even 

 if he did not his, and continued to act in a way that 

 would have tried the patience of a saint, but at length 

 coming to a point where the country was more level and 

 open, he succeeded in getting them going at a lope along 

 the trail, and by keeping close to them, and now and 

 then touching up the laggards with the end of his lariat, 

 they made good time down the trail. Then after a little 

 while the sweet influences of the scene began to have 

 then- effect and the irritated spirit was soothed. 



The wind had fallen, and over mountain, valley and 

 lake lay the mantle of the mysterious silence which is so 

 often a part of these wilds. There was no soft stir 

 among the long grasses, no crisp rustle of aspen leaf nor 

 whispering sigh of swaying pine boughs. The sharp bark 

 of the fox and the hoot of the owl were stilled; the wail- 

 ing, quavering cry of the coyote and the trumpet note of 

 the wild goose were hushed. The air was soundless. 



The trail could sometimes be seen far ahead, winding 

 like a slender snake over the yellow hillside, and along 

 this the horses trotted briskly in single file. Sometimes 

 they lagged a little, and then, as the curling end of the 

 trailing rope flew forward among them, jostled and 

 crowded each other and then broke into a rapid lope, 

 which carried them far ahead, perhaps over the next 

 ridge and out of sight of the rider, who kept up the same 

 swift, steady trot along the trail. 



The ride was full of poetry, but its beauties could be felt, 

 not described. The great white moon, nearly at her full, 

 had climbed half way to the zenith, and lit up prairie 

 and mountain with a glory that was as much more beau- 

 tiful than that of the sun at noon as it was different from 

 it. The open prairie was flooded with the clear white 

 light, but beneath the trees and in the brush were odd 

 black shadows, which sometimes moved along and took 

 strange new shapes, which changed as they were seen 

 from different points of view. The silhouettes cast on 

 the ground by the scattered pines along the trail were 

 black as ink, and when the way led through groves of 

 aspens the ground was curiously flicked with black and 

 gray and white, making it look as if it were rough and 

 broken. In the open the bunch grass had a uniformly 

 pale gray tint, and the scattered patches of yellow rye 

 grass looked white, not with the clear, brilliant whiteness 

 of snow, but dull, rather like stretches of white sand. 

 The whole effect was that of riding over a desert without 

 vegetation, a barren waste of verdureless soil. 



The air was still. Windmaker slept and his servants 

 were at rest. Only now and then when the god stirred 

 uneasily, a gentle zephyr breathed over the lake, and 

 sighed itself away over the prairie beyond. On either 

 side were dimly seen the dark shapes of the mountains, 

 and the snow-clad peaks beyond Swift Current, whose 

 tops w^ere visible over the nearer hills, shone and glim- 

 mered in the clear light. Beyond these was the pinnacle 

 of Chief Mountain, and over this, as if a part of it, hung 

 a blazing star. It seemed to the rider as if this were a 

 lighthouse and the star its beacon which beckoned him 

 onward. 



And now a strange thing happened. Suddenly he 

 noticed that he was no longer alone. Ahead of him, gal- 

 loping along the trail on a horse that went as silently as 

 the wind and as swift, rode an Indian, who held in his 

 hand a rifle, and bent down now and then on his horse's 

 neck, as if following a trail. His long hair floated out 

 behind him and rose and fell with the swing of his horse's 

 stride, and the moonbeams shone on the naked brown 

 skin, which glistened as he meved his body. And as the 

 rider watched this trailer just before him, it seemed that 

 the figure was a familiar one. A moment after a shadow 

 appeared by Yo's side and then under his right arm came 

 creeping into view, and stealing up beside him, a pony's 

 bony head and long slim neck, and in a moment there 

 galloped silently with him another rider; and when he 

 looked into the strong, stern, yet kindly face, he beheld 

 the countenance of a friend long since dead. Half turn- 

 ing in his saddle, he glanced over his shoulder and saw 

 behind him other men, one white, and the rest red and 

 naked, following close at his heels. His eye took in at 

 a glance all the details of the picture, and he noted the 

 strong white columns of steam that shot out from the 

 horses' wide-spread nostrils in the regular even play of 

 their lungs, the tossing manes, the wet sides glistening 

 in the moonbeams, and the glint of the light on the rifles. 

 And again looking before and about him, there were no 

 more mountains, nor dark pines, nor the shimmering 

 waters of the lake, but only, as far as the eye could reach, 

 undulating, treeless sandhills, covered with scanty yel- 

 low grass, and dotted here and there with broad-horned 

 cattle, that raised their heads and stared at the little 

 group of riders that sped silently by, or turned and fled, 

 disappearing among the ghostly shadows of the sand- 

 hills. 



