366 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May 19, 1887- 



Address all communtcatfons to f7ie forest ami Stream Pub. Co. 



AN ADIRONDACK WINTER TRIP. 



ABIT of good luck came to me last winter, for by luck 

 alone I was given opportunity to spend a week in 

 the heart of the Adirondacks. and thus to enjoy greatly a 

 very novel experience of winter life in the woods. 



It so happened that coincident with my arrival at Pots- 

 dam, St. Lawrence county, to make a long promised visit, 

 business of importance summoned my host to visit a large 

 lumber and logging camp, of which he is the proprietor, 

 and which, being situated well up the Raquette River, 

 and including the Great Tupper Lake within its bound- 

 aries, involved a trip of several days duration. The rather 

 embarrassing alternative presented, for "to go or not to go" 

 was temporarily the question, was quickly relieved by 

 my ready acceptance of the cordial invitation to accom- 

 pany him; and very glad was I that I did, from the hour 

 we started until this present writing. Many trips into 

 the wilderness had so familiarized me with the ordinary 

 incidents of life therein, from sojourning room mate with 

 the electric lights and bells of the hostelries at Blue 

 Mountain Lake and Paul Smith's, to the camping out 

 under the turned up boat of my guide, that I hardly ex- 

 pected to see or learn much, or enjoy many new sensa- 

 tions; but I did though, lots of them, and Ienjoyed every 

 moment. 



When the trip was first proposed I felt a twinge of 

 anticipated trouble in the way of possible rheumatic re- 

 sults, due to very low temperature. During the week we 

 drove a hundred miles and I tramped perhaps twenty, 

 with the mercury see-sawing over a central zero, and 

 snow from 1 to 2ft. deep, but I felt hardly a bit of dis- 

 comfort. This rather astonished me, for having spent 

 the last two winters in the tropics, and this being my first 

 winter with snow in it for three years, I feared that my 

 blood was too thin and my feet too tender; but my fears 

 proved groundless. To be sure I was well and warmly 

 clad. My good wife, sister, nieces and every other female 

 member "of the family bethought herself of something 

 that would aid in keeping me warm, and when a bulky, 

 almost helpless mass of furs and felt, I was helped into 

 the cutter, for I was packed like a mummy, and nearly 

 as helpless, I reminded myself of the figure in the Smith- 

 sonian of Dr. Kane in his arctic costume. That sort of 

 thing did not last though. When after a bit I found my- 

 self compelled to ask my companion to himself search my 

 breast pocket for something he wanted, because I couldn't 

 reach it, I thought it time to reduce, and I did. 



Starting from Potsdam behind a pah of grays that 

 could go, the air cold and clear, wp soon pulled clear of 

 the half -bare ground of the village streets — it was in early 

 December — and struck the good going of the country. 

 Our route was in general to the southward, and for a con- 

 siderable part of the distance along the banks of the Ra- 

 quette; and to me it seemed very odd to be steering south 

 yet bound in and not out of the woods; but "we got there 

 all the same." 



Just a quarter of a century before, less the few months 

 between December and July, I went over the same route 

 on my first trip into the "South" woods. I had been often 

 enough to the North, and I was surprised to find how 

 strongly many bits of scenery that I thought utterly for- 

 gotten, had stamped themselves upon my memory, so 

 that, although in the beautiful attire given by the "beau- 

 tiful snow," I recognized at once. 



I say "beautiful snow" with the utmost deliberation, 

 and fears of the chestnut gong shall not deter me, for in 

 the bright clear air of the mountains the surface of the 

 snow fairly glistened and sparkled in the bright sunlight, 

 as though strewn with myriads of diamonds. And most 

 artistic had the snow transformed ugly landscape into 

 beautiful; the stump-dotted clearings, with brush and log 

 heaps, ordinarily hideous disfigurements, were changed: 

 every charred and blackened stump, with its arched 

 white cap and side trimmings, had become a symphony 

 in black and white; the brush heaps pretty rounded hil- 

 locks; the rude log-cabin shanties, with the red glow of 

 great wood fires shining through their little windows, re- 

 flecting upon the fresco of icicles adorning the eaves, 

 were turned into Swiss chalets, and picturesque as com- 

 fortable; and as toward dusk we threaded the forest, the 

 snow-covered branches which, in endless tangle, over- 

 arched our path, became almost invisible, while their 

 white covers formed against the after-sunset glow of the 

 sky a most delicate and beautiful network of lace. By 

 the roadside the smooth surf ace was dotted at close inter- 

 vals by the imprints, which showed that but shortly be- 

 fore us deer, foxes, martens and rabbits had been there. 

 To the proprietor of much of the forest land we drove 

 through the snow appeared beautiful, for its presence as- 

 sured him of easy hauls to the skids, hence much, instead 

 of slight returns for a given amount of labor; a few cents 

 more or less of cost to each "standard" in cutting, skid- 

 ding, hauling and floating, amount to quite a sum when 

 30,000 are to be handled. Now if every one who uses 

 that venerable quotation could be forced, as I have been, 

 to give so long an explanation, it might die out. 



Twenty-five miles drive, in a little over four hours, 

 brought us to " the Farm," just before reaching which, at 

 Munger's tavern and landing (formerly Pelso's), we bade 

 adieu to civilization as represented by bar bed- wire fences 

 and telegraph poles. There had been no lack of taverns 

 along the route; in fact every farmhouse of larger than 

 usual pattern was a place of entertainment, and these oc- 

 curred at intervals of three or four miles. At most, if not 

 all, of these wayside resorts prices are very reasonable, 

 for a man and team are cared for to the extent of supper, 

 lodging, breakfast and hay for one dollar, and the meals 

 are of good, substantial, lasting quality. Of course each 

 tavern has a bar, and it would be difficult to name a 

 liquor desired that one or another of the three or four- 

 bottles in sight would not supply; but the bar is not very 

 well patronized by the lumbermen, most of whom are 

 French Canadians, and who while on a job are A^ery tem- 

 perate and frugal. 



" The Farm" is quite a hamlet, and is part of the lum- 

 bering outfit owned by Mr. Luke Usher, my companion 

 and host. It is situated on an extensive plain, the last 

 clearing of any magnitude on the road to the woods; and 

 is nearly half way (25 miles) between Potsdam and the 

 lumber cainp. 



As we drove up after dusk, the many fights seemed to 

 indicate a little village, but I soon learned that all of the 

 dozen or more houses were parts of the same establish- 

 ment, originally started by Mr. Usher as a farm and so 

 named, upon which grain and hay for the twenty odd 

 teams could be raised and potatoes for the hands, at rates 

 made economical by the high tariff for hauling to the 

 spot (ranging from $1 per barrel to $15 per ton); here, 

 too, the horses could be pastured during summer, and 

 sick or disabled men or horses sheltered in winter. As 

 time passed a little hamlet was developed. Sleds and 

 harness broke often, horses needed shoeing; and there 

 grew a sled factory, harness shed and blacksmith shop, 

 where work was turned out with the requisite strength; 

 and part of the quarters were used as a hospital, where, 

 wheu a lumberman cuts his foot, as often happens, or 

 was otherwise injured, ho could he by and with sticking 

 plaster, kerosene and castor oil doctor himself. The 

 superintendent, Mr. W. E. Huggard, with his family, is 

 provided with a very comfortable farmhouse, and they 

 made us as comfortable as hearty welcome, good fires, 

 good beds, plenty of blankets and most bounteous and 

 well-cooked meals are apt to do. The store is well pro- 

 vided with the ordinary necessities of the woodsmen, 

 such as tobacco, soap, flannel shirts, drawers, blankets, 

 rubber boots, hats and leggings, felts and packs. The 

 men are boarded by the firm . 



We remained at the farm until noon the next day, Mr. 

 Usher engaged upon his business, I amusing myself by 

 interviews with sundry woodsmen, the results of which 

 I will give you further on. I was seduced into an ex- 

 cursion after partridges, and with a .22cal. Stevens rifle 

 tramped five or six miles through snow a foot deep with- 

 out getting sight of a bird; it was too cold for them, ther- 

 mometer standing 8° above zero; and they were all snugly 

 housed under the bushes and suow. 



About noon we started for another twenty-five mile 

 heat, and a glorious drive it was, far exceeding that of 

 the day before, for then starting from a town, we passed 

 through several smaller ones, then groups of farmhouses 

 with school house and tavern, then wide clearings, in 

 which single houses with barns, first of frame, then of 

 ?og cabin and shanties as the intervals between grew 

 longer, made a comparatively tame affair; but to-day our 

 route was through the forest primeval and was an enjoy- 

 able one. As a general thing the snow had reduced to 

 one level, the usual irregularities of a woods road, and 

 we spun along lively. Now and then a straightaway 

 path for a few hundred yards gave us a beautiful vista 

 and we were passing through a natural arcade, under the 

 snow-covered interlaced branches of the giant spruce and 

 pine, the natural droop of the spruces increased as was the 

 upward tendency of the pines lessened by the weight of 

 clinging snow, which formed a roof above us, broken 

 here and there by tall and shapely tamaracks, bare as 

 were the maples and birch trees; the pines and spruces so 

 snow covered that but for the proud uplifting of the 

 branches of the pine, contrasting with the droop of the 

 spruce, it was hard for me to distinguish them until well 

 taught as to their different barks. 



Now and then there, were obstacles in our path, the deep 

 snow covered completely one that I shall always remem- 

 ber, for driving rapidly on a slope, the up-hill runner en- 

 countered the end of a projecting log; I was on the down 

 hill side, but I didn't stay there. I remember the first 

 shock, then standing on my shoulders, head buried in a 

 snow drift by the roadside. The careless driver had "fired 

 me out." There was a bit of malicious joy mingled with 

 the regrets I expressed to him that evening when he dis- 

 covered that he had broken his runner. Our drive was 

 not a lonely one, for the woods were full of birds, 

 never saw half so many in summer time. Among them, 

 and most common, were woodpeckers, chickadees, blue- 

 jays, sparrows, and "meat birds," as the Canada jay is 

 called in this part of the Adirondacks. The birds named, 

 and some others, spend the winter in the woods, flocking 

 near eamps and cabins, and, especially the meat bird, 

 becoming very tame and familiar; the meat bird is always 

 on hand when a deer is killed, and being very fond of 

 venison, becomes as fearless and impudent as a magpie. 



We reached Gale's Hotel just before dark. There are 

 undoubtedly many of your readers who will locate me at 

 once, and feel as perfectly sure as I did when we drove 

 up that I was in for a good time and had struck a most 

 comfortable ranche. In ye olden times the Raquette was 

 the abode of many and large trout, and its forest-lined 

 banks then, as now, abounded in deer. The Devil mis- 

 led one of the best of guides and woodsmen, and in a 

 moment of temporary aberration, or "possessed of the 

 Devil," Lysander Hall, it is said, introduced to its waters 

 the pickerel. As a matter of course, once in they stayed, 

 increased and multiplied, and the trout are a reminiscence 

 of the past. 



In those clays the anglers thronged hither in season, as 

 the hunters do now. One has but to read and enjoy some 

 of our best sportsman's literature to become familiar Avith 

 "The Bog," Setting Pole Rapids, Soe's Island and Massa- 

 Avapie Lake. Case's Hotel is very near to the last and 

 still nearer to another very pretty little lake, Catamount 

 Pond, in the center of a clearing whose horizon is dense 

 forest, and but a mile from the Raquette, There were 

 few old-time anglers Avho did not take the tramp across 

 to the lake and make sure of a good bed and one good 

 square meal, at least, and a chat with the veteran woods- 

 man, father of the present proprietor, son, I believe, of a 

 former one, successive hosts, who for years have made of 

 the hostlery an attractive resort. 



The Gale Avho AA T elcomed me a quarter of a century ago, 

 then a man of middle age, was no longer here; he had 

 gone, as had his father before him, and as Avill Emory, the 

 present proprietor, when the time comes, into the recesses 

 of the wilderness to shanty out alone, trap, hunt and be 

 happy. 



We spent a couple of very pleasant days, with our 

 headquarters at Gale's, and between meals at the logging 

 camps, from two to four miles beyond, and from Avhich, 

 the ah" Avas so still and clear, the sound of the axes reached 

 us. At the camps Mr, Usher transacted his business and 

 I loafed around amusing myself. 



There is wonderful fascination in watching the wonder- 

 ful skill and precision by which, in such little time, such 

 great trees are leveled to the desired spot; and the quick, 

 handy work of the trimmers, Avho, Avitha sharp axe, have 

 no need of a chest of tools. A shanty was being built, and 

 the joiner work, casing of windows, etc., Avere being axed 

 out.' The men work from daylight till dark; have their 

 meals in a large mess hall, whose t wo long tables were 



arrayed in shining tin and snowy crockery; all as "clean 

 as a pin," and their supper, as I can vouch, was a most 

 excellent one for a hungry, hearty man. 



One cold forenoon I spent in Mr. Gale's cozy parlor 

 amid comforts and luxuries which seldom appertain to a 

 woods tavern. On the table was an abundance of inter- 

 esting readings, including some standard booljs; around 

 the Avails Avere choice engravings, some from Europe, 

 and here and there cases and single specimens of most 

 skillfully set up and tastefully arranged stuffed speci- 

 mens of nearly all of the buds and beasts indigenous to 

 the woods. Mrs. Gale, the taxidermist, is self-taught, 

 but there is evidence in her work that she has had the 

 best instruction from nature, the best of teachers. On 

 one side of the room a cock grouse drumming, very evi- 

 dently, attracts the attention of tAvo hens; a group of 

 frisky squirrels, another of field mice and moles, hawks 

 of several varieties, a grim blue heron silently fishing, 

 owls from the largest down to a tiny one, no bigger than 

 a quail, sneaking marten, minx and weasels, and deers' 

 heads and antlers — which latter form the text upon which 

 this letter is based. 



Mr. Emory Gale spent as much time as he could spare from 

 his work helping me use up time and some cigars, and we 

 naturally discussed woods topics, and I learned a great 

 deal, some of which may be new to others also. Noticing 

 that none of the sets of antlers were remarkably laxge, 

 not equal, in fact, to numbers which I have seen mounted 

 in sundry halls and dining rooms, I commented on it. 

 Mr. Gale replied that very fine sets were eagerly sought 

 by many of the city sportsmen who come into the Avoods, 

 and they thus commanded quite a high price. So great 

 was the competition to secure first-class sets to carry out 

 that while some bought, others would spend their entire 

 time in continuous hunting, killing deer after deer, far 

 more than could be utilized, in the hope of securing a 

 very large pair of horns; and this w T as one great source of 

 cleaning out the deer; in fact he said, "If the laAv makers 

 would shut down on carrying out the horns as Avell as the 

 carcasses, half the deer killed by outsiders would 

 saved." 



Mr. Gale gave me his views on hounding versus still- 

 hunting, and every woodsman with whom I talked agreed 

 with Mm, differing as radically from our legislators who 

 hold that chasing deer with hounds tames them, in fact, 

 that the deer rather like it. Franklin county adjoius St. 

 Lawrence. In the former hounding is allowed, in the 

 latter it is not. Before it was stopped in St. Lawrence 

 county, the deer were equally abundant in both; now 

 there are vastly more in St. Lawrence county and less in 

 Franklin, the deer hounded in the latter escaping across 

 the borders into the latter do not go back. 



Hounding in late November and December is particu- 

 larly injurious in that such deer as take to the water 

 with their blood heated become chilled, and even if they 

 escape they are sick all of the season, and if does, fail to 

 bear fawns. Only the week before he had found on one 

 bank of the Raquette a frozen deer, otherwise uninjured 

 Which had been, as shown by the tracks in the snow 

 driven in on the other side, and quite a number of some- 

 what similar instances have occurred. 



He and the rest of them seemed to be very unanimous 

 in the idea that it Avould be well to extend the open sea- 

 son for still-hunting through November, inasmuch as 

 then the fawns are large enough to take care of them- 

 selves, the venison is at the best and can be kept, and 

 still-hunting can be carried on with greater success; to 

 this end they think that the season should open and close 

 a month later. 



None of them, hoAvever, seemed to have any hopes that 

 any measures dictated by knowledge Avould be taken, the 

 re])eal of the six-inch clause in the trout law appears to 

 have weakened their respect for the common sense of the 

 laAvmakers. 



As one of them put it very graphically "Any d — d fool 

 that would go for that law Avould shoot robins in a bury- 

 ing ground and sell 'em for their hides." Piseco. 



AOdresns all communications to the Forest and Stream Pub. Go. 



EARTH BUILDERS. 



[from the May Audubon Magazine.'] 



THERE are many people who roam through the forest 

 or over the prairie, who see the fruitful soil every- 

 where bringing forth food for man and beast, Avho knoAv 

 ti at the same state of things has existed as long as man 

 has lived on earth, but who never dream that an enor- 

 mous amount of living energy Avas required to prepare 

 the soil for man's occupancy, and that an equally enor- 

 mous sacrifice of life is needed to maintain the soil in 

 fruitful condition. 



The farmer's experience has given him some clue to 

 the truth — he knoAvs if he keeps cropping the soil for all 

 it will yield, without returning anything to it, its fertility 

 will soon be exhausted. He knows, in fact, that crops 

 want food to make them grow, that they find some of 

 this food in the soil, and that after this food is all used 

 up, it is no use trying to till the land any more until it is 

 manured, or dressed with a fresh supply of plant food. 



The farmer knows too that Avhen land becomes so poor 

 that it is no longer profitable to cultivate, it irnpiwes bA r 

 lying fallow a few years. The soil gets fresh plant food 

 from the air. 



This can only be done by the agency of plants and ani- 

 mals. The life-work of every plant and tree and blade 

 of grass that grows, is to live on the air and convert it 

 into its own substance. The life-work of every insect 

 •and bird and beast that lives, is to convert the plant sub- 

 stance into animal substance. In doing this, all these 

 creatures take something more from the air — not the 

 same sort of food that plants take from it, but something 

 different. This something, called nitrogen, which ani- 

 mals take from the air, is mixed in their stomachs with 

 the A T egetable food. 



If plants and trees were simply to die where they live, 

 they would not render the soil fertile; what they take 

 from the air would go back to the ah, and nothing would 

 go back to the soil except the little they take up by their 

 roots; just as when Avood is burnt, nothing goes back to 

 the earth but the ashes which came from it. Peas and 



