MABcn 3, 1887,] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



103 



way to the next likely hunting ground lay past Hamner's 

 and a natural curiosity drew him to the shooting ground. 



Fortune had frowned on all the contestants but the 

 amiable giant, Dart, who by his weight and good nature 

 and the possibly better gift of luck, seemed always to 

 make his way, and having now got three turkeys Hamner 

 was disposed to debar him from another chance. "I do' 

 know baow on airth I 'm a goin' tu divide three turkeys 

 'mongst five on us," lie said, "but I never was wuth a 

 snap at Aggers. Mebby Sary Ann 11 make hash on 'em." 

 Luck, certainly not skill, had taken one of Joseph Hill's 

 bullets into deadly contact with a turkey, and he, follow- 

 ing Dart's bint, was telling his friends that M'ri would 

 make a dumpling, the bird to be the core of the savory 

 compound which would have been the stuffing of a larger 

 turkey, "erless she took a notion tu fry it 'long wi' a slice 

 o' pork, same as she would a patridge." 



Poor Pelatiah was in doleful dumps, having fixed three 

 shots without getting a turkey, and now debating with 

 himself whether he should hazard the remainder of his 

 treasure on another. "I hit a nine-inch ring three times 

 aout o' five, forty rod as I paced it up behind the barn t r 

 hum, yist'd'y, wi' that gun," he confided to Sam, "Wid- 

 der Wiggins's rifle, the best one the' is in Danvis, so 

 ev'b'dy says, an' tu-day, Samwell, I can't hit a ten acre 

 lot!" 



"It's fifty rod fm here tu that box if it's a rod!" said 

 Sam to Pelatiah, and partly to himself, "the dum'd of 



hill across the road with his eye, "you might forgit tu 

 put any cap on, an' snap tew three times, an' then hoi' 

 high! Aim at the top o' Tater Hill 'f your a rainier— 

 'taint nob'cly's business if your shot 's paid for. But don't 

 ye graound your ball this side o' the turkey!" 



"Goin', Mr. Lovel?" Hamner asked, as Sam shouldered 

 his ponderous gun, known far and near as the "01' Ore 

 Bed;" "I was a hopesin you 'd jine us." 



"No," Sam replied, "I can't hit a turkey fortvrod off. 

 I'm goin' up on your hill tu try 'f I c'n git another pat- 

 ridge. They 'pear tu be tumble scase t'dav." 



"Tell ye what. Lovel," said Dart, "I b'lieve Hamner's 

 chick-a-biddied 'em all intu his barn wi' a ha' bushil o' 

 buckwheat, an' sot 'em up for turkeys! These things we 

 ben a sbootin' at is patridges, an' the scruff eends o' 

 litters at that ! " 



^Re-freshmintsup tu the hoe-tel, Mr. Lovcl," Hamner 

 said, taking no notice of these derogatory remarks; 

 "Meant tu a lied some austers, but I guess they baiulhed 

 time to bring 'em raound sence it froze up." 



"Was you think in* of importin' an auster up here. 

 Hamner?" inquired the irrepressible Dart. "They don't 

 bite* they say, in no month 'at haint got an R in 't, an' 

 the' haint ben quite three sech, so the' haint ben time tu 

 move one up for ye, but I'd druther resk the chance o' 

 gittin' one o' Hamner's turkeys at his forty rod, 'an tutry 

 gittin' an auster aouten a plate o' his soup'." 



"Naow, Mis-ter Dart," Hanmer asked, more in sorrow 

 than in anger, "du you, can you expeck tu git a pailf'l o' 

 solid meats aouten a piate o' austers at nimepunce a 

 plate?" 



Sam left the oyster question unsettled and made speedy 

 way to the hill which overlooked the whole range. 



Pelatiah bestowed his ungainly length upon the plank 

 once more, and three times pulled the trigger with no 

 responsive explosion of cap and charge. "G— o— s— h!" 

 he exclaimed, with well simulated surprise, "I never 

 thought tu put no cap on!" This oversight having been 

 duly remedied, at the next pull the Widder Wiggins's 

 rifle responded with its wonted spiteful crack, which was 

 more loudly repeated from the hill behind, and the turkey, 

 witli a few feeble flaps of its wings, sank upon the box. 

 t "Sam Hill ! What an e-cho !" Joseph ejaculated, taking 

 m vain the name of a possible ancestor, and then looking 

 toward the rough steep beyond the road he saw a thin 

 film of smoke wafted upward through the evergreens. 

 After one breathless moment of open-eyed and wide- 

 mouthed wonder, he doubled himself up in a paroxysm 

 of smothered laughter. 



When the turkey was examined some one remarked 

 that the "Widder Wiggins's rifle made a onaccaountable 

 big hole," but Pelatiah bore home his prize in triumph and 

 with unquestioned light. Rowland E. Robijsson. 



MY RIDE IN A BIRCH CANOE. 



TWENTY-EIGHT years ago found me on the shore of 

 the Upper Mississippi, 100 miles above St. Paul, 

 planning a trip down the river to Rock Island. It was in 

 the early spring and the ice had just gone from the river, 

 while the warmth of the northward creeping sun was 

 making daily havoc of the last lingering snowdrifts. 



How should I make the trip? The roads were in fear- 

 ful condition, stage fare was high, and the lonely shores 

 of tbe upper river were yet unvexed by the discordant 

 screech of the locomotives. I determined to try a birch 

 Canoe. Familiar from earliest boyhood with the log 

 canoe or dugout, I had never yet tried a birch. A five- 

 dollar note quickly templed a Chippewa Indian to sell 

 me the most beautifully modeled canoe I ever tried. It 

 was 12ft. long by 2Gin. in width, and with a grace of out- 

 line possible only to the patient Chippewa. I wonder if . 

 such canoes can be found to-day? When I read some 

 time since of a birch cauoe formed of the bark of a single 

 tree, gathered in folds at the ends, I could not help smil- 

 ing as I thought of my old-time birch, with its beauty of 

 model unapproached by any craft I have ever found 

 among civilized men. A delicate framework of cedar, 

 covered with its blanket of birch bark formed of many 

 pieees, cut to fit exactly, and stitched together with 

 Siender willows the size of a pipestem, split in two and 

 bent toward the heart of the twigs, as tough almost as a 

 buckskin string. Over the seams on the outside of the 

 boat was spread a coat of pine pitch, and the fairy craft 

 sat Upon the water like an egg shell. Stowing my bed- 

 ding, provisions and cooking utensils in the bow, I added 

 .about fifty pounds of stone to their weight to balance my 

 own weight in the stern, and having provided an extra 

 paddle for emergencies I crept cautiously aboard, careful 

 to prevent the bottom of the boat coming in contact with 

 the rocky bank, seated myself in the stern and pushed 

 off. The cm-rent was swollen by the melted snows, and 

 the swiftly flowing river, taking the tiny craft in its 

 mighty arms, raced onward toward the Gulf with a speed 

 -that mocked the creeping stage coach. Rounding a bond 

 the stream, I ttraiSd to wave a final good-bye to the 



group of friends gathered upon the shore to see me oil, 

 and on we sped, my beautiful boat and I. 



And what a graceful thing she was! How quickly we 

 became acquamted. How she responded instantly to the 

 most delicate tip of the paddle. Like a mettlesome steed 

 she seemed alive and trembling with eagerness to obey 

 my slightest wish. How she galloped over the waves of 

 the rapids as with the fiery eagerness of youth I drove 

 her down the watery steep with straining nerve and 

 bending blade, rejoicing to see her display a steadiness 

 and seaworthiness of which I had not dreamed. And 

 well did I need all her grace of outline, all her supple 

 strength, and all her marvelous speed before that voyage 

 ended. 



Eor a time all went smoothly, while the subtle charm 

 of the continually unfolding landscape in front and the 

 gliding panorama on either shore, speeding steadily astern 

 to fold and fade behind me, took fidl possession of me 

 like some beautiful dream. For hours I floated on upon 

 the bosom of the great river, past shores that bore little 

 or no impress of the coming tide of civilization and 

 which had not yet echoed to the roar of the paddles of 

 the panting steamer. It was a lovely day, bright and 

 warm, with not a breath of air to ruffle the surface of 

 the water, and only the faint rippling under the bow and 

 the tinkling of the water drops from the occasionally up- 

 lifted paddle broke the silence of the wilderness and grew 

 gradually into a music, the very monotony of which 

 blended perfectly with the wondrous charm of the sur- 

 rounding solitude. What enjoyment awaits the canoeist 

 — the true lover of Nature I mean, who finds his pleasure 

 in this silent communion with the lonely goddess. The 

 recollection of that strange canoe ride stirs my blood after 

 all tbese intervening years. 



Rousing at length from my reverie to give chase to a 

 black loon that suddenly appeared in front, a couple of 

 miles more were quickly covered, and my admiration of 

 the staying powers of this strange bird greatly increased 

 when, bavins many times appeared far in advance, he 

 finally eluded me by a long dive, appearing at length far 

 behind, and leaving me to continue the journey alone. 

 Night approaching I landed, and unloading the canoe, 

 carried it up on the bank, where, having built a fire and 

 eaten supper with the appetite given only to the lover of 

 the open air, I crept under the upturned boat and slept 

 the sleep of the tired canoeist. 



Early morning found me again afloat, and soon the 

 straggling village of Sauk Rapids appeared upon the left 

 bank, and the roar of the rapids warned me to land at 

 the upper end of the village. a.nd take a look before ven- 

 turing upon waters I had never seen. 



A couple of men came down to the shore to meet me, 

 and learning that a portage necessitated a carry of three- 

 fourths of a mUe, I inquired if it was possible to run the 

 rapids with the canoe. They replied that the Indians 

 sometimes ran them in the spring, in time of high water. 

 "Where do they enter the rapids?" I asked. "Close to 

 the other shore," they answered. What a thing is youth, 

 when touched with the taint of foolhardiness that later 

 years have taught me to be ashamed of. "What the 

 Indians have done I can do," I replied, and without 

 pausing to examine the rapids, I turned the bow of the 

 boat up stream, and with a vigorous use of the paddle 

 succeeded in crossing the stream until within 100yds. of 

 the opposite shore before entering the rapids. A glance 

 ahead caused me to brace more firmly in my seat, take a 

 full breath, and bend to my work with a will, preferring 

 always to run bad water with plenty of steerage way. 



Away we went. How the trees along the shore raced 

 backward, and with what inimitable grace did that glori- 

 ous little canoe avoid each threatening peril and prove 

 herself a credit to the skill of the untaught savage who 

 formed her. May he live a thousand years. The long 

 race was nearly run, and the smooth water of the rivor 

 below appeared in sight, and I turned to wave a sign of 

 triumph to the men who were watching me from the 

 shore, when I felt the boat plunging downward. Turn- 

 ing instantly, I saw the canoe going over the worst pitch 

 we had yet met, and which had not appeared until that 

 instant. It was nothing dangerous, but about four rods 

 below it, hung something that very evidently was. A 

 long sawlog, escaped from the log-driving lumbermen, 

 had saddlebagged across a rock and the upper end pointed 

 diagonally across the stream to the left directly in my 

 course. The first glance showed the channel to the left, 

 and impassable rocks to the right. I must go to the left, 

 even though the terrible obstruction toward which the 

 boat was rushing with fearful speed, projected ten feet to 

 the left of the canoe's course. In any other boat I had 

 been lost. I had my paddle on the right side of the boat, 

 and bending forward I drew a mighty stroke that whirled 

 the birch like a top to the left until the bow could pass, 

 and then threw my weight on the paddle, which was now 

 braced across the stern, to check the speed and pry the 

 stern over to the left in time. We made it— the birch and 

 I— but with a margin so narrow that, as we shot past and 

 glided down into the smooth water below, my heart rose 

 with a great leap. 



Did I remember the lesson? We shall see. The trip 

 from here to the falls of St, Anthony was without inci- 

 dent. There a boom stretched hah:' way across the river 

 above the falls, filled with sawlogs, barred my course 

 and forced me once more to land oh the left bank of the 

 river. The great waterfall, 40ft. high, was yet unbroken 

 by dams or aprons and the view was grand. Just at the 

 foot of the fall, within 50ft. of the foot of the precipice, 

 I found a small factory or machine shop on the bank, 

 and making a, portage down to this I launched the birch 

 from its steps. For about a mile below the falls were 

 rapids which ran with fearful speed. Forgetting all past 

 perils I pushed off and pulled hard to reach the middle of 

 the stream to avoid the rocKs along shore. I gained the 

 middle of the river and the speed became terrific. There 

 were no regular waves, but an indescribable tumult of 

 waters instead. Nearing the foot of the rapids with white 

 water all around us, suddenly the dashing waters seemed 

 to give way under the birch and the angular corner of a 

 mighty rock rose from the vortex of waters directly in 

 front and almost under the boat. Down Ave went, 

 squarely upon it. It struck the canoe amidships with a 

 blow that crashed through the tough birch and the cedar 

 framework, leaving a hole through which I could thrust 

 my boot. I was pitched forward by the shock until my 

 face almost touched my knees, the paddle flew from my 

 hands and was lost in the foaming waves. Instantly the 

 tumultuous waters closed again, tossing the boat upward 

 like a cork, and on we sWe.pt again, Seizing the extra 



paddle I turned the bow to the left, toward a long gravel 

 bar that lined the shore below the rapids and began a 

 race with the inrushing water that was fast rising around 

 me. I was in dead earnest now, for I well knew that no 

 swimmer encumbered with clothing could live long in 

 that icy flood, and that the stones in the bow of the birch 

 would take her down like a plummet. Keeping the bow 

 down stream to get the help of the current I paddled for 

 life, and when the boat grounded on the gravel, I sat in 

 the ice cold water that rose to my waist, and not two 

 inches of the gunwale of the faithful birch showed above 

 the surface. Jumping out I unloaded the boat, emptied 

 and carried it up on the shore, turned it bottom upward, 

 straightened out and fastened the broken bark, made a 

 lire and warmed the kettle of pitch I carried in the bow, 

 paid the broken seam, and again the little birch was tight 

 and dry as a milk pan. 



Wringing the water from my wet blankets I spread 

 them on the bushes in the sunshine until partially dried, 

 when I loaded up and started on. Coming to the' mouth 

 of the little stream that flowed clown from the falls of 

 Minnehaha, I landed and walked up to the beautiful 

 waterfall, and for an hour stood and drank in the beauty 

 of the lovely scene, as yet untouched by hand of vandal. 

 I have never seen it since nor do I wish to. Years -after 

 I saw a painting of Minnehaha, after the stupid attempt 

 had been made to "improve" it: and I could only regret 

 that the loveliness of that wonderful scene had been so 

 marred. Returning to the boat I paddled on down to St. 

 Paul where I landed to secure supplies. A man soon 

 appeared eager to buy the little birch. He proved to be 

 the steward of a small stern wheeled steamer named the 

 Hazel Dell, from Pittsburg, Pa., and desiring to take a 

 birch canoe back to his friends at home, offered me my 

 passage to Rock Island on the steamer in exchange for 

 my boat. The bargain was made and the voyage ended, 

 when the beautiful little birch, the only one I have ever 

 owned, was carried in triumph to the hurricane roof of 

 the steamer, no longer springing forth to the stroke of 

 the paddle, but trembling with the motion given by the 

 steam engine of civilization, started her long journey to 

 Pittsburgh. Uncle Fuller. 



Thjeti8, Wash. Tor . 



ON THE WEST COAST.— II. 



THERE are singular features in all the rock formation of 

 the keys. Below the surface of the water, where it is 

 covered with mud, a stiff pole can be shoved into the rock 

 to a depth of a foot or more. On the keys under the soil 

 it can be cut with an axe, showing a perfect coral forma- 

 tion. The branch coral, under deep water ten fathoms 

 or less, is hard and brittle, and seems on close examina- 

 tion to be in active formation by the coral insect. I know 

 of no prettier marine sight than a favorable view through 

 a sponger's glass of the bottom, covered by branch coral, 

 as white as snow in all its beauty. 



We filled up our empty Water vessels, and laid in some 

 yams and fresh tomatoes and some cocoanuts. Each 

 settler has his own cocoanut grove. Bidding farewell 

 to Key Vacas, we headed N. E. for lower Ma ttacomb Key, 

 distant about 25 miles; wind S. E., thermometer 72 , pass- 

 ing on our left Horse Neck, Lemon, East Plorse Neck 

 keys; on our right DeWitt, Estella, Duck and Long keys, 

 some ©f them habitable and others entirely covered with 

 mango trees, the limbs of which have a peculiar feature 

 of growing downward through water and mud, and strik- 

 ing new root, the beginning of a new tree. They grow 

 either in brackish water or the blue salt water of the 

 Gulf. Here we found a landlocked harbor off the lower 

 west end of the key, formed by a circle of bars, and we 

 entered by a narrow channel, "perfectly secure in every 

 direction and in plain sight of Alligator Reef Light, and 

 in hearing of the loud roar of the breakers as they dash 

 on the lighthouse reef. We killed with the grains in the 

 day's run three sharks, one sword fish and two large 

 skates, and caught an abundance of kingfish, some of 

 them going as high as 251bs. They were taken with the 

 trolling lines procured from Key West, all of our blue- 

 fish squids brought with us having long since been used 

 up: they are entirely toO light for key fishing. Grains 

 for spearing fish are made with two sharp parallel 

 prongs 6in. long, with barbs inside, fastened to the 

 usual harpoon socket, for receiving a 14ft. pole, straight, 

 tough and light. Six feet of small chain are fastened to 

 the socket, a line is fastened to the chain, the end of the 

 pole is placed in the socket, the line is hauled taut and 

 two half-hitches are taken around the upper end of the 

 pole, which holds the grains in place. When the fish is 

 struck it springs forward; this unships the pole, and then 

 commences the mad race. If you have fastened well into 

 a big one and you are in the dinghy, you will be kept too 

 busy for a half hour to answer many questions in your 

 endeavor to keep your boat on her bottom and bring in 

 your fish. 



Our guns had not been idle. We had with us one 10- 

 bore shotgun, one .44-cal. rifle and two heavy revolvers, 

 which were not of much use. We had killed deer, peli- 

 cans, cranes, cormorants and a great many varieties of 

 snipe; in fact since Ave left Key West we have not been 

 out of the reach of fowl or fish, although Ave have taken 

 more pleasure in the sailing than in either fishing or 

 shooting. The climate is simply superb. The prevailing- 

 southeasterly trade winds keep the temperature very 

 even. The nights are perfect. The tent is dry in the 

 morning, not enough deAv falling to dampen it; in fact 

 the only objectionable features of the keys, as far as vis- 

 ited, are the mosquitoes in the early morning and even- 

 ing. Still Ave managed to keep them out, so we could 

 not complain. This strikes me as being the perfection of 

 climate for all pulmonary complaints. The inhabitants 

 enjoy excellent health and show healthy complexion and 

 clear eyes, so different from what we observed in the 

 mainlanders— the name by which the key people know 

 the rest of the Florid ians. 



Our cable having too much scope Ave swung with the 

 tide and grounded on a bank during the night; taking a 

 list she dumped the artist out on the floor, he, grumbling 

 and half asleep, made a dive for his bunk, only "to roll out 

 again on the floor. We found a flight of snipe along the 

 bars with a good many duck, so taking our guns while 

 the cook was preparing breakfast, we went ashore. Tbe 

 artist, as usual, sitting down and making a sketch. I 

 succeeded in killing a good bag of snipe of several 

 varieties. We then stood on for Key Largo, the largest 

 of all; with a stiff bieeze abeam we made reckoning on 

 reaching Tavernier Creek about noon. We had run 

 about five miles when we brought up all standing on a- 



