366 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May 31, 1888. 



W u Mpwtentzn amourist. 



SAM LOVEL'S CAMPS.-X. 



THAT night, Sana, Solon and Joseph were not lulled 

 but tired to sleep by Antoine's interminable re- 

 hearsal of Canadian news, in which their chief interest 

 was that it might come to an end. It was very confus- 

 ing to hear that "Ma brudder-law, he'll come dead wid 

 some small poxes," and then, "Ma brudder-law, he'll 

 goin' bought it farm in Tree Eiver," and "Ma brudder- 

 law gone work in mill in Mass'cbusin," "Ma brudder-law, 

 he'll want it ma fader an' mudder come leeve 'long wid it 

 in Ogdenburg, where he'll go las' fall." But when some 

 question was asked concerning the resurrection and 

 ubiquity of this remarkable person, Antoine cried: 



"O sacre ton sac'! Ant you'll s'pose Ah'll gat more 

 as one brudder-law. Bah gosh! Ah'll gat more of it 

 as Ah'll got chillens!" Poor indeed would be the Canuck 

 of mature age who had not at least a dozen such rela- 

 tives. 



Antoine's recital of the various fortunes of his brothers- 

 in-law was by no means finished, when sleep closed the 

 ears of his unwilling listeners and he abruptly ended the 

 first chapter. 



The camp was hardly astir next moaning, nor Antoine 

 well out of his nest, where incubation of long stories had 

 silently progressed, when he began to cackle over the 

 lives and adventures of his sisters' husbands and his 

 wife's brothers. Even the long-enduring patience of 

 Joseph Hill could not keep that kindly man from utter- 

 ing a sound that might be taken either as a groan or as 

 a grunt caused by the exertion of stooping to light his 

 Pip e - 



"I du most wish — I do' know, but I du quite," he said 

 as he arose and fostered with his fingers and attentively 

 regarded the kindling spark, " 'at your sisters hedn't 

 never merried or your womern hedn't hed no brothers, 

 an' then you wouldn't ha' ben pestered a-tellin' baout 'em 

 nor we a listenin'." 



"It would be conjugal tu my f eelin's if they wa'n't 

 quite so numerical," Solon remarked, and when Antoine, 

 quite unabashed by these hints, began to tell of his 

 fifteenth "brudder-law, he'll gettin' 'long fus-rate, he'll 

 gat two twin, free tain," Sam so forgot his usual polite- 

 ness as to break out: 



"Duni yer blasted brother-in-laws! You'll starve us 

 tu death on 'em. We can't live on 'em. Hurry up an' 

 cook the breakfas', an' let them set a spell !" 



Whereupon Antoine fell into a fit of sulks which 

 silenced his tongue while it increased the unnecessary 

 banging of the frying-pan and the clattering of the tin 

 dishes. But these were sounds which his companions 

 had long been accustomed to and had learned to philo- 

 sophically endure. Joseph Hill remarked that "it make, 

 him feel' 'sif he was to hum an 7 hed tol' M'ri 'at she 

 couldn't go tu see her mother, er go tu a fun'al ten mild 

 off." 



"Did you ever da'st tu?" Sam asked. 



"Wal, I da'st tu, but I do' know's I ra'ly ever did," 

 Joseph replied after due consideration, while he poked 

 the lire with a stick that might serve to relight his pipe: 

 "but if I hed, I know th' 'Id ha' ben jes' sech a clattera- 

 tion, the stove an' things 'ould ha' ketched it." 



And Solon, as one having had experience, assented. 

 "Yes, it is the nat'ral natur of most all created creturs tu 

 make a audible noise someway when they're mad — women, 

 Canucks, babies, bulls and the hull toot; if they can't du 

 it vocabulary, they'll hammer an' kick an' carummux. A 

 mud turkle, naow, 'at haint got no visible voice, 'ill cuss 

 jest as wicked, a-snappin' his onspeechless jaws. It see.ms 

 as 'ough the' wan't nothin' denied the comfort o' cussin', 

 somehow." 



Though Antoine vented his ill humor on his utensils, 

 no flavor of it was imparted to the food he prepared, but 

 on the contrary a quality that restored his goodnature 

 before the breakfast was half eaten, and its effect on the 

 others was such that they would have listened with 

 patience, if not absorbed interest, to a further account of 

 his Canadian relatives and friends. 



This was to be a busy day, for to-morrow they were to 

 break camp and go at least as far as the Falls on their 

 homeward way. For their credit as fishermen and for 

 the pleasure of their friends at home, they must take with 

 them fish enough to give each neighbor a mess. Dan vis 

 would expect every man of them to do his duty and bring 

 it — a pickerel. 



If the angle alone was depended on, this expectation 

 was unlikely to be realized, for the moods of fish were 

 uncertain. Solon and Joseph had not the acquired skill 

 nor the gift of luck with hook and line, and Sam and 

 Antoine could not fish for all Danvis nor the half of it. 

 Therefore, it was decided that they should this day put 

 their trust in the greater certainties of the silver hook 

 and employ the fishermen who were hauling their nets 

 every day near the mouth of Lewis Creek. " Then Sam 

 hoped he might run up that stream and try titles with 

 some of its abundant bass, as he had more than ever 

 wished to do since witnessing the fighting qualities of 

 Pelatiah's Garden Island prize. 



As he looked eastward from the top of the bluff beyond 

 the broad creek and above the wall of woods, the first 

 object that met his eye was Shellhouse Mountain, and it 

 struck him that the outline of its long crest, rising from 

 the north end with one short curve and another longer 

 one to the rounded highest point, thence sloping away to 

 the south, greatly resembled a huge fish. Not far away 

 a kingfisher hung steadfast for a moment on vibrant 

 wings above the shallows, then dropped like a plummet, 

 arose almost with the upbursting splash of his plunge, 

 and presently proclaimed his good luck with a metallic 

 clatter of his castanets. A fishhawk, cruising vigilantly 

 above the channel, suddenly swooped and tore from the 

 water a prize so heavy that, in labored retreat, he barely 

 gained the cover of the woods in time to escape the 

 swift onslaught of an eagle, lord paramount of all air, 

 water and earth hereabout. 



"S'posin' you tackle Shellhaouse naow," Sam said 

 as the baffled tyrant wheeled sullenly from pursuit, "I 

 ha' no doubt you feel big enough t' think it wouldn't be 

 more'n your sheer if 't was a fish." 



Sam accepted these omens as auspicious of a good 

 day's fishing, verifying what he had already felt in his 

 bones and was in haste to be off. 



He embarked in his canoe, the others in , the scow, f 



Going out of Little Otter and rounding the willowy 1 jobber., 



sandpoint, the two craft fared across the bar toward the 1 

 seining ground. Near them on the right curved the flat 

 shore, marked here by willows, further on by a pale of 

 rushes, the border of a great marsh that was walled 

 south and east by the ancient forest, by the great water 

 maples and button-woods of Lewis Creek on the north, 

 a bay of rank marsh herbage, with islands of button 

 bush dotting its fresh verdure with clumps of darker 

 green. The water was so shallow, that oars and paddle 

 often touched the bottom, crinkled with a golden net 

 knit by sunlight and the light northern breeze. 



Such voyaging was much enjoyed by Solon and Jo- 

 seph, who had a wholesome dread of deep water. As 

 the latter watched the swarms of minnows flashing 

 their silvery sides and attended by the shadows that 

 swam in a darker school beneath them, slipping through 

 the tangled meshes of sunshine threads, he said: "Wal, 

 naow, I call this a sorter sensible place for ridin' in a 

 boat, where you c'n see what's a goin' on onderneath of 

 you, an' if ybu take a notion tu, er git tired o' ridin', er 

 your boat gits tu cuttin' up, you c'n jest git right aout 

 anywheres an' go afoot an' go off an' let your dum'd 

 boat cut its carlicues, or if you're a min' tu, take a holt 

 o' the rope an' halter break it till it gits way wise, er lead 

 it ashore. Ef I was a goin' ter hev me a lake made a 

 puppus, I don't b'lieve I'd hev it no deeper nowheres an' 

 this is right here. Ye see, the' couldn't nob'dy git 

 draownded in 't 'thaout they wanted tu bad 'nough tu 

 lay daown. an' the' 'Id be water 'nough fer fish 'at wan't 

 tu big, an' 'nough tu drink, 'thaout 'twas better 'n this is." 



"O bah gosh! Zhozeff, what you talk so foolish? "cried 

 Antoine, "what kan' o' lake you s'posed dat was be 

 you'll have it? De feesh be so scare for see you, he aint 

 bit. He cook hees back wid the sun in de summer, in de 

 winter he be freeze wid de ice. Haow you'll s'pose 

 stimboat goin' travelled, if de water so thin lie was here? 

 Haow you'll s'pose ma brudder-law comin' from Canada 



in hees bateau nex' fall for git h apple? He in? He'll 

 comin' 'f he can git ma nudder brudder-law come long 

 of it. Ma fader hees tol' me." 



"O, wal, Antwine, the fish 'ould get tame arter a spell 

 an' when the' backs git tew hot they c'ld turn over, an' 

 they 'Id keep good in the ice an' be 's good 's new in the 

 spring. An' I haint got no steamboats nor bateaux, I 

 I like tu know the airth is under me an' the water not so 

 deep 'at like 'nough it's Chiny water on t'other side. But 

 you c'n hev this lake jist ezackly as it is." 



"Yes sah ! jes' as he was, dis pooty good lake, Ah tol' 

 you. An' sah," swelling with the pride of proprietorship, 

 "ant you'll know de fus' man dat fan dis lake was Ferr- 

 enchman ! An' it gat hees name too-day ! Champlain ! 

 Dat ant Yankee name, don't it ?" 



"Was he a brother-in-law o' yourn?" Sam asked, being 

 within short earshot. 



"No sah, cause he'll ant, cause he'll dead great many 

 while 'go. But probly 'f he'll leeve two free honded year 

 an' see ma seester Marie, he'll w T as be; O, she'll han'somes, 

 more han'somes as TJrsule ! Bah gosh ! more han'somes 

 Ah was.'-' 



"The contower of her complexion an' featur's must be 

 most superguberous," Solon remarked. 



"What I'm a wonderin' is," said Sam, "if the' is any- 

 body in Canady 'at haint your brother-in-law, Antwine. 

 Seem's 'ough we'd hear'cl of 'nbugh on 'em tu fill it 

 chuck full, an' some on 'em has got craowded aout inf 

 the States." 



"Wal, sah, boy," Antoine answ ered, dropping his oars 

 and making a pretended computation on his fingers, 

 "Ah'll b'lieve dey was two, prob'ly free. Dere was de 

 priest in Saint Cesare an' ma aunt, and'— Bah gosh ! Ah'll 

 freegit who was tudder one. But prob'ly you'll ant 

 b'lieved Ah'll gat some brudder-law ! You'll come to 

 Canada 'loug to me Ah'll showed you, boy." 



"Them 'ere clams," said Joseph, still contemplating the 

 bottom, "must be turrible happy creturs. Never in no 

 hurry, nev«r wantin' to go nowhere, kn»win' 't they 

 couldn't git there 'f they did. Tu hum, wherever they 

 git hove tu, all alone an' never gittin' scolded. I do' 

 know, but it don't seem's 'ough they could cuss, Solon, 'f 

 they bed 'casion tu." 



"You protrude your finger inf the' maouth an' see 'f 

 they don't profane with a audible feelin'. The masculine 

 paower o' their jaws is astonishin'. " 



"I wonder if the dum'd things is good f eat," said 

 Joseph, yet interested in the unio with which the sands 

 were populous, and everywhere marked with the tracks 

 of their slow and apparently purposeless travel, "er 

 whether they wasn't made for nothin' only enjoyin' life." 



"Ah'll try for heat it, but Ah'll ant never heat it," said 

 Antoine. "He'll tender lak jim-rubbit,* an' ta'se mos' so 

 good. Ah'll bile one of it two nhour, then Ah'll chaw it 

 two nhour, an' bah gosh! he'll ant got no difference Ah 

 can feel of it! Moosrat heat it an' tink dey can' be no 

 better, an' dey "11 said sheephead feesh heat it, but Ah do' 

 know 'f he can brek hees shuck, me. He can have it he 

 '11 want it. Ah '11 ant quarly for heem wid it. Here we 

 '11 was<" 



The scow swept prostrate the rushes and made a land- 

 ing that it might feel at home in, the canoe was beached 

 alongside and the party landed. Before them a long in- 

 curved beach stretched away to the north, ending at a 

 rocky point. The waves of immemorial years had thrown 

 up the sand into a low breastwork that resisted now their 

 own assaults on the marsh behind it, wherein flourished 

 a rank growth of rushes, sedges and other aquatic plants, 

 nourished by the undisturbed muck of its owu decay. 

 So close along the waterline that their wave-washed 

 roots were spread like a tangled net upon the sand stood 

 an irregular row of g^reat water maples with tower-like 

 trunks,' buttressed, loop-holed, mossed and lichened by 

 age, scarred by the battering rams of ice that the lake had 

 hurled against them, with tops wind-torn and decaying, 

 but yet sending up new smooth trunks and abroad with 

 youthful vigor a graceful ramage of branches and fresh 

 leafage as if they might endure for a thousand years. 

 They are gone, now, and then: ancient sites are marked 

 only by rotting stumps on the barren unshaded shore. 

 A meaner and deadlier foe than time or wind or waves 

 has sapped their foundations, and years ago they were 

 peddled out at so much a cord by their avaricious owner, 

 who begrudged even the sands the shadow of a tree. 



There were two gangs of seiners on the beach. The 

 tlrree men composing one gang were Canadians, those of 

 the other Sam at once recognized as his unpleasant 

 Garden Island acquaintances, who it would seem had not 



yet unearthed Arnold's hidden treasure or were masking 

 their new opulence with this humble avocation. However 

 it might be, he had no desire for further intercourse with 

 them, and he and his party at once began negotiations 

 with Antoine's compatriots. 



Their chief was an old fellow of large build of greatest 

 dimensions at the hips, tapering thence upward to his 

 ears and downward to his bare feet. It was from the in- 

 terior of this widest region, apparently, that his broken 

 English was laboriously upheaved to the surface with 

 intermittent guttural grunts. His face bore a grim ex- 

 pression of good nature and also a pock-marked red nose 

 that much resembled in shape and color an immense 

 strawberry. His younger assistants, who were clearing 

 the net of sticks, weeds and clams and folding it on the 

 broad stern of their scow, appeared to be his nephews, 

 for they frequently addressed him as One' Theophile. 



"Haow de du?" Sam saluted him. 



"Ough! How do," Uncle Theophile grunted in labored 

 response and then glibly gave in French an order to his 

 nephew. 



"Hevin' any luck to-day?" Sam inquired with an as- 

 sumed languor of interest. 



"Make, ough, one haul, ough; gat dat," Uncle Theophile 

 answered, pointing to a bushel basket half full of pike- 

 perch and pickerel. 



"Wal, that '11 du tol'lable well" Sam said after tilting 

 the basket till some of the bottom fish were exposed and 

 critically examining the gaping mess, "haow much be 

 you goin' tu tax us for, wal, say four haul?" 



"Ough, twanty-fav cen' haul," Theophile answered, 

 coiling the elm-bark seine ropes on the beach, "fo' haul, 

 ough, dollar." 



"Prehaps," said Solon, "'at them other angulars aout 

 yunder haint so pecuniary in the' charges. Ls's go an' 

 see them." 



Theophile comprehended the spirit, if not the matter of 

 the proposal. 



"Hoi' John, ough, ov' dar, hees seine, ough, gat more 

 hoi,' ough, he was. He ant, ough, so longue ma seine, 

 ough, more as half." 



"Dum him! We do' want nuthin' tu du wi' him," said 

 Sam, decidedly. "He's the chap 'at was goin' tu tax me 

 an' Peltier tew dollars for row in' on us over from the 

 islan'. I druther not hev no fish 'an tu hire him." 



It is not to be supposed that Antoine had been silent so 

 long. On the contrary, he had borne well his part in an 

 incessant interchange of French gabble with Theophile 

 and his nephews, who no doubt were now informed of 

 the recent discovery of his father, and to such extent as 

 the time had permitted, of the fortunes of his brothers-in- 

 law. 



"Dese mans tol' me," he said to his companions at the 

 end of a fresh outburst of jabber and gesticidation, " 'f 

 Ah'll helped it, dey'll give us fo' haul for eighty cen'." 



" All right!" said Sam, "go ahead." And the nephews, 

 shoving off the scow, clambered on board, one taking the 

 oars, the other tending the seine. 



They headed toward what was now an islet, though in 

 lowest water a peninsula, lying parallel with and a hun- 

 dred yards from the beach, an incline of smooth rock on 

 this side, on the other a jagged, low escarpment, nourish- 

 ing above high waterline some scant herbage, a few 

 storm-beaten oaks and scrubby cedars. Antoine seemed 

 to think that the service he was to render was that of 

 chief director, and began to shout orders to the young 

 fellows in the boat, and issue some in a lower voice to 

 old Theophile, and though no attention was paid to them, 

 continued to do so with no abatement of the idea that all 

 depended on him. 



The boat's course was now changed and began to 

 describe a long curve, while the net was slowly cast out 

 astern till the last "tommy-stick" — as the staves that 

 spread the ends of the seine were named — went overboard 

 with a louder splash. Then the scow headed for the 

 beach, trailing out the bark rope till she grouuded, and 

 the crew tumbling out, began to haul on it. Antoine, 

 now an obedient assistant, hauled with Theophile on the 

 other rope, while the old man gave out concise orders. 



"Tirer! Tirer!" or "Doucement! Douce— ment! Tirer 

 pas ya vite!" as occasion required. 



Presently the tops of the tommy-sticks appeared at 

 the ends of the approaching curve of floats that rippled 

 the water with a hundred wakes, and then as they 

 climbed the long slant of the bottom and showed half 

 their length inclined inward, one of the nephews dashed 

 out and gave the stick at their end its proper outward 

 pitch, while Antoine in unquestioning response to Uncle 

 Theophile's command, waded out mid-leg deep to per- 

 form the same office for theirs. 



The water inside the net was now boiling with strug- 

 gling fish and the ropes were tossed with frequent splashes 

 to frighten them back within the narrowing barrier, over 

 which now and then some desperate captive would leap 

 and regain freedom. Sam thought that in these instan- 

 taneous flashes of gleaming scales and glistening water 

 drops he recognized the forms of bass, and could not help 

 feeling glad that such gallant fish had escaped ignomini- 

 ous capture. But even his love of fair play could not 

 withstand the excitement of so good a haul, and now that 

 the ends of the net were landed and it was hauled steadily 

 in till the bellying bag stranded its writhing and gasping 

 burden, he was as busy as the others tossing out pike- 

 perch, pickerel, bass, suckers, mullet, perch and sunfish 

 that glittered on the gray sand in a great heap of mother- 

 of-pearl, emerald, i-ilver and gold. 



"Dar, seh!" said Antoine, proudly, when the net was 

 emptied, "ant Ah'll mek it pooty good hauls? Bah gosh! 

 Ah'll de boy can ketch the leesh ev'ree way Ah'll man' to 

 ketched it! De hookanline, de spear, de nets, Ah'll gat 

 no different of it me!" 



Though no one else claimed the credit or even a share 

 of it, all were much gratified by the successful haul ex- 

 cept the Canadians who had really made it. They seemed 

 to feel no pride in it. but rather to begrudge having given 

 their patrons so much for their money, and went sullenly 

 about clearing and making ready the net. 



"What's the matter ails your friends, Antoine?" Sam 

 asked, noticing their sour looks. 



"Wal, seh, Sam, Ah do' know 'f prob'ly it ant mad 

 'cause Ah'll ketched more feesh he was." 



"Like 'nough; I never thought on't, though." 

 "But Ah'll ant to blem 'f Ah'll know more as he was, 

 ant it? Dat was the way Ah'll was be mek, 'sides leetly 

 maght Ah'll was larn." 



A lumber wagon, whose jolting course across the fields 

 had for some time been heard, now appeared, grinding its 



