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FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept, 29, 1887. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Pub, Co 



IN THE SAWTOOTH RANGE.— 1. 



AS a preface to this short account of my last year's 

 hunt in Idaho, I think it my duty to thank the 

 Forest and Stream as having heen the medium to intro- 

 duce me to the many pleasuies which I have enjoyed in 

 that far-off territory. I happened one day to read a very 

 interesting article in the "columns of this journal on 

 "Large Game in Idaho:" this aroused my hunting passions 

 to such an extent that I mustered courage to inquire for 

 details and particulars, which were readily given, and 

 this also introduced me to the writer of the account, with 

 whom I enjoyed, three years ago, the wonders of the 

 National Park'and afterward my first hunt in Idaho. But 

 now for my last hunt. 



I shipped by freight to Mountain Home part of my camp- 

 ing outfit. This included an umbrella tent, which is my 

 own invention: it is handy to pack on a horse when mov- 

 ing camp, having only one pole in the center, which, 

 being made out of bamboo, telescopes like a fishing rod. 

 There were also my fur-lined sleeping bag, horsehide suit, 

 pack and riding saddles, brid es, ropes, etc., ample ammu- 

 nition for my rifle and shotgun, and also coffee, tea, con- 

 densed milk, baking powder, cigars and tobacco. I 

 started on the lot hat 7 P. M.bythe Erie Railroad and got to 

 Detroit next day. Here resides the writer of the article 

 on large game in Idaho, \v ho is known to the readers of 

 your paper as "Prairie Dog." He met me on my arrival, 

 and I spent a happy day with him and Ms good wife. The 

 next day I took the 1 :55 P. M. f oi Chicago. My "old pard" 

 felt pretty blue when we parted. He knew what sport 

 was in store for me, while he had to return to the dull 

 monotonous office work of his vocation. I rearmed Chi- 

 cago one hour too late to make connection, and had to lie 

 over. Next day — Sunday, 18th— left on the Northwestern ; 

 made Council Bluffs the 19th, 9 A. M. Had to wait here 

 or at Omaha till 7:50 that night; rechecked my baggage 

 at the last place, and started again, one hour behind the 

 specified time. Had breakfast at North Platte in the 

 morning, dined at Fort Sidney, and supped at Cheyenne. 

 Wednesday, the- iilst, reached Green River, where I left 

 the Union Pacific for the Oregon Short Line, and next 

 evening at 11:45 arrived at Shoshone. 



Intending to see the falls, I stopped at the Dewey 

 House. Next morning took conveyance to the falls, they 

 are about 26 miles through a monotonous sage prairie. 

 As one nears the falls, a ragged, zigzag line of black 

 marks the edge of the walls of the Snake Canon, end a 

 dull throbbing sound reaches the ear. Stepping near the 

 canon wall, I looked down into a broad circular excava- 

 tion, over 700ft. deep; the river flowing quietly until 

 plunging into a labyrinth of rocks, and tumbling then 

 over a precipice more than 200ft. in depth. Among the 

 islands above the brink are several beautiful cascades: 

 most prominent in view is a colossal upright boulder; a 

 pair of eagles have selected this lofty and secure resort, 

 and have made it then- undisputed home for a number of 

 years; and it is accordingly named Eagle Rock. "Walk- 

 ing down the steep, dangerous descent, rather than trust- 

 ing to the wagon, I soon got to the river side; a chain 

 ferry will take one to the other side, and to the hotel. 

 Enjoying a fair dinner, and looking the falls over from 

 below and this side of the river, we left them about 6 

 o'clock, got back to Shoshone at 11. One hour later I was 

 seated in the west-bound train, arriving next morning 3 

 A. M. , at Mountain Home, the terminus of my lone; rail- 

 road journey. This is a small but lively station, being 

 the nearest railroad point to the Rocky Bar Mining Camp, 

 to which there is a good deal freighting, and a stage runs 

 from here to Rocky Bar, a distance of 72 miles. The next 

 morning after a good night's rest and breakfast, I looked 

 the town over. Two years ago I had been here, but the 

 place looked about the same. I found my freight, which 

 was shipped to this point, in perfect shape, thanks to the 

 kindness of Mr. Scran ton, the station agent. Friend Bill 

 McK., of the Bonaparte Mines, was to meet me here with 

 his team, and later in the afternoon he came rattling 

 along accompanied by his young wife. To say that I was 

 only too glad to see his good honest face, would hardly 

 express my feeling. 



In the morning we all went to the supply store to pur- 

 chase the rest of the provision , cooking utensils and 

 Other necessaries which I would need on my trip, and 

 the storekeeper, who knew what was wanted, soon had 

 my outfit complete. 



Sunday.the 25th, we started to the mountains. One 

 large box and trunk we took along with us in the wagon, 

 the other box, a barrel with No. 3 and 4 beaver traps and 

 a 'arge bear trap, I had arranged to have freighted with 

 the first team coming to Rocky Bar. We were soon spin- 

 ning along the dusty stage route, glad to leave the station 

 and hot, desolate plains behind us. We drove thirty-five 

 miles to Fred Cooper's ranch on Little Camas prairie; he 

 was an old friend and hunting companion. While Fred 

 was getting supper and Bill was tending to horses, Mrs. 

 McK. and I caught a nice mess of trout in the creek 

 near by in less than one hour. On leaving Detroit my 

 "old pard," who is an ardent disciple of Izaak Walton, 

 had given me a book of assorted flies: these now came in 

 very handy; Mrs. McK. especially enjoyed this sport, 

 much pref erring them to the commonly used grasshopper. 

 Bright and early next m rning we were off again, and 

 after a delightful drive along the South Boise River amid 

 beautiful mountain scenery on both sides we reached 

 Rocky Bar Junction. Here we left the stage road, climb- 

 ing up through a dismal canon and several times fording 

 the Feather River. Cayuse and Bonaparte creeks, we 

 came at last to the mines, which we made before sun- 

 down. Two years ago my Detroit friend and I drove 

 from the Yellowstone Park by way of Beaver Canon and 

 Wood River to these mines. He had known Mr. McK. 

 for years, but I was a perfect stranger. Our host had 

 treated me so kindly and had made me feel so much at 

 home that now, when I beheld the buildings, outhouse?, 

 stamp mills, stables, etc., all seemed to welcome me tack. 

 While Mis. iVtcK. prepared supper, Bill and I unloaded 

 the wagon, placing my goods and chattels in a cosy room 

 assigned to me as my headquarters until going on my 

 long hunting trip. Refreshed after a solid night's rest 



and nice breakfast I went to look tor my horses, which 

 McK. had previously purchased for me. Told where I 

 most likely would find them, I soon came across them 

 grazing with his own band a mile or so above the mine. 

 I was well pleased with the appearance of my ponies and 

 had also been assured of their gentleness and that they 

 were used to riding and pack saddles. 



Getting back to the mine for dinner I found Billy 

 Howard and Charles Hopkins waiting for me, both old 

 friends and hunting companions, the first one a relative 

 to McK. and working in his mine, the other working a 

 placer mine claim with his brother Billy Hopkins, five 

 miles below, near Junction Bar. We were soon engaged 

 raking over the good old times and discussing piospee- 

 tive plans for my present hunting campaign. 



Charles's, as well as McK.'s camp, being out of fresh 

 meat, proposed a little himt. to which I gladly assented, 

 and the next morning early found me riding one of McK.'s 

 horses, leading another packed with grub, cooking uten- 

 sils and camp outfit, bound for Charles's cabin, found him 

 waiting on his handsome chestnut sorrel horse, and with 

 two more pack horses. Billy, his brother, was glad to 

 see me, and wished us good luck. We were soon on our 

 way, foil wing along the picturesque South Boise River 

 to 6m- hunting grounds of two years ago. 



On our way we overtook a team, driven by friend Jem 

 Nicholson, bound for Biscomb's Ranch. As we intended 

 to hunt in that vicinity, he insisted that we should put 

 up there, telling us of a lick close by, which was used a 

 good deal by deer. Promising to meet at the old ranch, 

 we parted, as he with his wagon had to go a different 

 route from ours. I had my Parker along, and we killed 

 a number of grouse, fat and plump, and delicious mor- 

 sels. Out in these wild and sparsely populated regions 

 the butcher markets are far and few between; the people 

 are obliged to depend on game ; but in my experience I have 

 never seen any wanton slaughter; on the contrary I have 

 found them extremely considerate in killing only bucks 

 in the close season, and not moie than will answer for 

 their necessary wants. 



We reached Bascomb Ranch before sundown, and 

 found Nicholson waiting supper for us, after which 

 Charles and I took our rifles to watch at the deer lick, 

 not very far off. We lay in the roughly built blind con- 

 structed out of logs placed crosswise, through which we 

 could see all over, until it was too dark to shoot, when 

 we left, hoping to meet with better luck in the morning, 

 as deer never or very seldom use licks in the daytime. 

 But we were doomed to the same bad luck, for no deer 

 made its appearance. Getting back in time for a fine 

 grouse breakfast, we decided to shift quarters, and try 

 further up, on the other side of the river, near an old 

 cabin, where two years before we had killed so many 

 goats. 



Intending to be back next day we left most of our 

 truck, only taking some grub and blankets, strapped on 

 the pack horses. As Jem N. was to leave in the morn- 

 ing, to winter in Rocky Bar, we promised to be back be- 

 fore his start. Just before fording Charles saw some 

 ducks i i the river, and as shooting a shotgun was some- 

 thing new to Mm, I left him enjoy it. He crawled behind 

 the bushes until in gunshot, when he fired both barrels 

 into the flock. The report made my horses wild, especially 

 the one I was riding; he began to rear and buck, trying 

 to run away. Unfortunately the pack horses, which lied 

 by their halters, were bound to go in the opposite direction. 

 Having my rifle and bridle in the other hand, I felt that 

 I must let go of something, so I let go the halter ropes of 

 the pack horses. My frisky pony feeling the sudden re- 

 lief, gave one extra jump for joy, so sudden and high as 

 as to send my rifle flying out of my hand, besides testing 

 to the utmost my cowboy equestrianship. Hanging onto 

 the horse like an Indian I conquered at last. Charles 

 apparently had enjoyed the circus, and had just captured 

 the contrary-minded pack horses. I was afraid to look at 

 my rifle, fearing especially for the Lyman sight, but my 

 old reliable Sharps was all right and the sights unharmed. 



After this little incident we safely reached our old 

 hunting camp, where we found the old hut, just as we 

 left it two years ago. The horses, after being hobbled, 

 wen soon enjoying the rich and plentiful pasture; nd 

 after a cold lunch we stretched ourselves in the shade of 

 giant pines and hemlocks, smoking our pipes in dolce far 

 niente. When the sun began to smk we thought it time 

 to go to our stations, I to watch a warm spring close by, 

 while Charles went down into a willow meadow to 

 another dry lick, promising to call for me at his return. 

 Taking along my shotgun, besides the rifle, I soon took 

 position in the blind, making myself as co info table as 

 possible. I watched and waited carefully, but no signs 

 of game appeared. The majestic high pines began to 

 throw long and fanciful shadows, and old Sol after giving 

 one more parting look disappeared behind some moun- 

 tain peaks. Twilight was setting rapidly, with all its 

 silent mysteries. Nothing disturbed the tranquillity of 

 this primeval forest, excepting the hooting of the owl 

 above my blind. Arousing myself out of my lethargy, 

 thinking Charles had forgotten to call or I had not heard 

 him, as it was now quite dark, I gave one more searching 

 lo k over the lick before taking up my traps; and I 

 thought I distinguished a whitish shadow moving at the 

 spring. It would watch and stop, and then dip down to 

 take a few licks at the warm spring: now it was right op- 

 posite from the blind, not 35yds. from me. Oh! how I 

 wished for a little more light. Having my shotgun 

 loaded with a dozen buckshot, I concluded to chance it 

 with that. At the next dip it made I rose silently, and 

 aiming where I guessed to be the deer's shoulder, banged 

 away. I listened intently, as the powder smoke made it 

 still darker to see the result of my shot; but hearing noth- 

 ing whatever, no swiftly departing feet, nor eagerly 

 hoped-for death struggle, I stepped out of the blind to go 

 nearer for inspection. 



Noticing something suspicious lying in the lick, and 

 going closer, I saw that I kilted my deer dead in its track; 

 and as it proved later, I had driven the whole twelve 

 buckshot through its shoulder, killing it stone dead, and 

 without a struggle. It was a large 2-year-olJ buck, with 

 a handsome pair of horns in velvet. Charles came up 

 after a little while, hearing me shoot, but never dreaming 

 that I had shot at a deer, and it was almost pitch dark. 

 We started a fire, carried the deer out to the blind, and 

 soon had. it dressed and hung up. Getting back to the 

 cabin we had fried deer's heart, freshly baked bread, with 

 a fine cup of coffee, after which we crept into our blankete. 



The next morning, after packing our deer and camp 

 duffle on the pack horse, we started back for the ranch, 



which we made by noon. We found that Mr. Nicholson 

 had just gone, and on the hot fire-place weiv awaiting us 

 a fine pot of stewed grouse, hot bread and coffee, which 

 were most grateful, for our appetite was well seasoned by 

 the long morning ride. The weather being warm we 

 jerked our venison so that it would not spoil, The best 

 process of doing this is to cut the deer into medium sized 

 pieces, except the hams, which should have deep incisions. 

 Then make a strong brine of water and salt, in whicn 

 you leave your meat from two to three hours, then hang 

 it over a smudging smoke (but see that no flies blow the 

 meat), and it will keep for any length of time. 



Having finished this task, we concluded to try our luck 

 on Willow Creek that evening. Alter a rough ride of 

 four miles on a dim, overgrown trail, we came to a little 

 opening and good feeding ground for our horses. Leav- 

 ing them picketed here we carried rifles and blankets to 

 the blinds not very far off. Installing ourselves within, 

 we were soon watching the lick alternately, but *■ trangely 

 no deer show d itself. Charles especial y felt disappointed, 

 as he was sure of getting a deer or two, but tru-ting to 

 better luck in the morning, we made our.-elves as snug as 

 possible in the blind for the night. At the duwn of day 

 we were again at our post, but nothing stirred. Charles 

 assured me that he had never watched this place without 

 seeing from a pair to as many as six deer come in at once, 

 and as the day had advanced too far, we left the blind to 

 see if any deer had been there during the night. We 

 soon found the cause of our disappointment. In one 

 corner of the lick there lay the carcass of a large antlered 

 buck, which somebody had killed and left to rot— a most 

 foul and willful murder. This explained all. Deer will 

 never visit licks where they scent or see the carcass of a 

 victim. Utterly disgusted, we removed the cause of dis- 

 appointment, went back to our horses and returned to the 

 ranch, where we prepared a good dinner from our jerked 

 venison. 



After dinner, taking my shotgun, we had some sport 

 with the numerous grouse, Charles trying to shoot them 

 on the wing. After securing all we needed, we decided 

 to try again on the other side, where I killed my Duck. I 

 watched at the same place. No d^er came in sight, 

 though I had a glimpse of one and heard the running of 

 two; these must have scented me, as they made off in a 

 great hurry. Charles, who called me on his way back, 

 was more successful, having killed one in the willow 

 meadow. 



The next morning we started before day, noiselessly 

 approaching my stand ; but seeing no deer here, we pro- 

 ceeded down the meadow, where Charles had killed his 

 the previous night. Sneaking softly through the willo ws, 

 1 saw him motion me to stop, and a deer emerging from 

 behind a willow brush, he took careful aim and made a 

 fine shot, the deer only making three jumps when it fell, 

 never to rise. While he was going to his deer I saw an- 

 other stepping from behind some brush to look for his 

 companion and to discover the cause of alarm. B afore I 

 could get sight on it I heard Charles's rifle crack; he hit 

 it, but unfortunately too far back; it bled freely and we 

 trailed it for some time. Seeing that it had crossed a 

 fork of the river, we had to get our horses to ford. After 

 following it for tome distance again to the main river, 

 we there had to leave it to its pitiful fate, not being able 

 to get our horses down the rocky and dangerous incline. 



Packing our two deer on one horse, having left the 

 pack animals at the ranch, we took turns riding the 

 other. As we had all the meat needed, we started for 

 home. It was pretty late when we reached Charles's 

 cabin, as he kept up grouse shooting until the ammuni- 

 tion gave out. Here we divided the spoils of our hunt, 

 three deer, thirty-five grouse and three mallards, he 

 keeping the smaller share. My part, with camp outfit, 

 made a heavy load for my pack horse, and it was quite 

 dark before I arrived at the mines. The folks had all 

 retired except friend Bill, glad to see me back, and 

 delighted with our success. Relieving my horses of their 

 saddles and packs, then hanging our game in the cool 

 cellar, I had to relate the particulars of the hunt. 



F. B. 



ADIRONDACK EXTORTION. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Let me give a little note of- warning to f uture travelers 

 over the Northern Adirondack Railway. On going into 

 the North Woods this year I contracted with Paul Smith's 

 agent at the last station on the road to carry our party, 

 camping equipage and canoe to Paul Smith's hotel, a 

 distance of some nine miles, for a fixed sum. On arrival 

 at the hotel, the pert clerk who rules behind the desk, 

 discovering that we intended to camp out instead of 

 spending our time and money loafing at the big hotel, 

 tacked an extra charge of $3 on my canoe above the 

 agreed price. Although the contract was clearly proven 

 by bystanders, and although the c ntract price was an 

 over-liberal remuneration for the service performed, yet 

 the hotel managers refused to surrender the canoe until 

 the extra amount was paid, coclly remarking that Paul 

 Smith was not bound by any contract made with his 

 agents. This was such a novel proposition in business 

 morals that it quite took my breath, and realizing that, 

 as Paul Smith controlled everything in the smrounding 

 country, I was in a helpless condition so far as righting 

 a wrong was concerned, I paid the $3 bonus under pro- 

 test and gracefully yielded to the swindle. This was but 

 one of a series of incidents that proved, to my mind at 

 least, that Paul Smith's $4 per day hotel system is now 

 run by his hired men on the "gouging" principle, and that 

 independent camping in that region is to be d^couraged 

 to as great a degree as possible by overcharge and all the 

 petty indignities which a monopoly can invent. 



A large portion of the provisions purchased at this hotel 

 by our pany while in camp near by was thrown away, 

 either on account of hieing spoiled by stalcness or for the 

 reason of its original inferiority. A camper's stomach is 

 not generally qualmish; but odorous beef t teak at 35 cents 

 per pound, mouldy ribs of bacon at 18 cents i er pound, 

 and woimy oatmeal, were a little too Paul Smithish for 

 our table; so we fed them to the poor dogs and helpless 

 fish, and eventually subsisted, in so far as was practica- 

 ble, upon supplies procured lrom a neighboring farm- 

 house. 



I would strongly advise those who intend to camp in 

 that vicinity to take with them a store of provisions and 

 thereby avoid annoying impositions, 



Orange Frazer. 



Wilmington, 0„ Sept. 13. 



