FOREST AND STREAM, 



[July 13, 1889. 



ON THE BORDER. 



'PIA JUANA. Mexico.— Tn my letter from the Raneho 

 L de Las Palmos I incidc ntalJy mentioned this old 

 Mexican town as being the terminus of the railroad from 

 Sin Diego, eighteen miles distant. While it is within 

 the Province of Mexico, it is not in Mexico proper, but in 

 Lower California: and the town is equally divided be- 

 tween Americans and Mexicans, the boundary line sepa- 

 rai.ing the two countries running crosswise through the 

 center of the town — Americans on one side, Mexicans on 

 the other. On the American side are several stores, beer 

 saloons, residences, and a rather pretentious-looking, 

 half-tinished three story hotel — one of the numerous mon- 

 uments commemorating San Diego's boom of two years 

 a^o. On the Mexican side the sight is truly Mexican. 

 Here is the Custom House, a long, low one-story adobe 

 building, whitewashed within and w ithout. To the tour- 

 ist who goes to see what he can see, gets his handkerchief 

 or one of his cards stamped with the Mexican seal as a 

 souvenir of the place, quaffs a glass of the fiery mescal or 

 purchases a bunch of fifty cigars, breaking the package 

 before returning to the American f>ide, I say to him with 

 a clear conscience, the Custom House, with its numerous 

 bowing, smiUn-j, polite officials, presents a peculiarly 

 unique sight. But to the guilty wretch who drive? along 

 with a number of dutiable articles concealed within his 

 wagon, his eye-i penetrating every nook and corner of the 

 village, fearfully dreading the sudden appearance of an 

 armed and . mounted officer, who will pounce upon him 

 •Mike a wolf on the fold" — to such an one the meek little 

 Custom House looms uplike an ancient bastile, while the 

 green and white fl-ig, waving peacefully ogee two nations, 

 with ila writhing snake firnily clutched within the talons 

 of a monster eagle, assumes an a peet tiuly awful. If he 

 :«mou!d happen to be born under a lucky star he drives 

 quietly on, and with bounding heart and bated breath 

 reaches the other side with hi* booty. And all for a few 

 ceuki! Oh, mammon, mammon, for shame! It must he 

 an awful thing to be wicked. Now, if he had a wagon- 

 load of opium, or a few bushels of diamonds, or a kit of 

 plumber's tools, or other articles absolutely necessary for 

 the maintenance of life, we would not so seriously object 

 to his beating this heartless, sun-dyed government; but — 

 Ave will draw the curtain and allow the wicked man to 

 pursue his way while we return to our subject. 



Beyond the custom house, on both sides of the street, 

 are low, squatty adobe buildings, some dwelling houses, 

 some stores, and several saloons. In a room 8x10, with 

 a ground door, is a grocery, saloon and general country 

 store. Here you can buy a bible, or a glas3 of mescal, 

 and with anything from a pin t<> the expensive and ele- 

 gant sombrero one can be accommodated by a dried and 

 withered old Mexican wrapped in a red blanket and 

 the sun blazing hot. Inconsistent? Well, nexnaps so. 

 but a fact nevertheless Further down the solitary street 

 is a more pretentious saloon. The building (mud, like all 

 the others^ stands back ten feet from the street line — 

 and in front we observe an awning, forked poles driven 

 into the ground, other poles crossing and recrossing on 

 top, and the whole covered with grass. Beneath this 

 awning is a full-equipped bar, and the barkeeper reclines 

 lazily in a chair and twangs a crazy old guitar. In an- 

 other corner sits a lazy lout, vainly endeavoring to twist 

 a song out of his Mexican gullet, and as we approach the 

 bar to buy a cigar or something, he saunters up and 

 says he will "take a leetle of ze muskell." He is not one 

 of us, hence it is none of our bu-iness what he takes, 

 and we pay no attention to him. Finding a discrepancy 

 of fifteen cents in my change, I ask the "barkeep" if he 

 can talk English. "Si, si„ seiior, me speak-a ze good 

 Inglis — so good as ze Spanish." "Well, sir," I continued, 

 "you made a mistake in my change. You owe me fifteen 

 cents." "No, senor, el comprendo." "You don't under- 

 stand?" "No. seiior — es eez all right," bowing and scrap- 

 ing, and retiring into the house. "I suppose he kept 

 out the fifteen cents for that Mexican 'drink," said the 

 doctor. "Perhaps so," said I, "but I don't hke that way 

 of doing business, and if I had the infernal scoundrel by 

 the throat I'd shake the life out of him. But there he 

 comes now, and on second thought I have r.o desire to 

 raise a rumpus on Mexican soil, so we will walk on down 

 street." And we walked. If I ever catch that villain on 

 American ground I'll wallop him — 111 — I'll do some of 

 the most artistic street mopping with him that was ever 

 known. 



Until very recently Tia Juana has been the "sporting" 

 headquarters for San Diego and all Lower California. 

 Twenty feet acroas the line, on the Mexican side, was 

 located a bullring of considerable proportions, and here, 

 every Sunday throughout the year, congregated thou- 

 sands of people to witness bull fights, and an occs si mal 

 prize slugging match. Gambling of all kinds, i^doois 

 and outdoors, was rampant, and thousands of dollars 

 changed hands daily. Finally Gov. Torres ordered the 

 bull ring demolished and all gambling suppressed. This 

 was done, and to-day Tia juana is the quiet, sleepy old 

 town of a hundred years ago. 



While sitting under a pepper tree to day perusing the 

 Fqeest and Stream and «n joying a quiet smoke, I 

 noticed a ripple of excitement 'further up the street. 

 Watching a littlo more closely I saw half a dozen "sporty" 

 looking chaps separate from the crowd, and two of them 

 carried basket?. Thinks I to myself "chickens;" and 

 while they were quietly conversing las quietly sauntered 

 up and inquired, "Where is it to be?" "Where is what 

 to be?" "The main." "What main?" "Oh, come. Don't 

 give us anything like that. Where is it?" They said 

 they were looking for a man, and just then he came up. 

 They stowed away the birds for safe keeping, and after 

 imbibing a cigar or two wo all started for a place on the 

 Mexican side to witness a quiet little fight. We found a 

 dozen Mexicans and as many birds, and watched two or 

 three rounds with no little interest. Finally one of 

 these San Diego chaps said he could "get a bird right 

 here in Tia Juana that will do up any one you've got for 

 f 50." The match was made instanter. and returning to 

 a place of concealment the San Diego bird was produced. 

 He was armed with spurs, ami the Mexican bird wore 

 slashers— at least that is what those fellows called them. 

 Two or three shots from the San Diego bird knocked his 

 Mexican highness cold, and the stakes were duiy pock- 

 eted by the winning parties. Excitement ran high and 

 mescal flowed fiyely. In a moment anothar fight was 



arranged, this time for $25, and the San Diego bird 

 waltzed in, wafted a bifter with his off foot on the head 

 of his antagonist, and all was over. The Mexicans looked 

 at each other in amazement, and as the San Diegans 

 raked in the stakes they boiled over with rage. They 

 jabbered and jabbered,' and swore that the Americans 

 would never h a ve the place alive unless they returned 

 the money. Better council prevailed, and after talking 

 the matter over among themselves one of the party ad- 

 vanced to the Americans and remarked that they need 

 not give up the money to them, but they must go to the 

 Custom House and leave it, they could not take it out of 

 the country. Another wrangle ensued, and finally the 

 Mexicans called out the Alcalde (justice of the peace) to 

 settle matters. This official listened to both sides, and 

 when they had finished and every one was waiting breath- 

 lessly for his decision, he jumped up and swore by the 

 long horn spoon, or something, that he had a rooster 

 which could lick anything either in Mexico or San Diego, 

 and that he would just let him at the San Diegan, and 

 not only keep in Mexico the money won by the Ameri- 

 can*, but he would add $50 more to the pot ! The bird 

 was produced, the money put up, and in exactly twenty- 

 one minutes the Alcalde's bird lay dead in the pit. Then 

 the fun began. The Mexicans swore, the Alcalde gesticu- 

 lated, and all declared that not an American should re- 

 turn across the line. I told him I was an orphan and 

 strictly decent, and that I didn't want to come to the 

 fight, but was persuaded into it by these bad men, and 

 th t.t if they would let me go I woiild never do it again. 

 While this was transpiring the San Diegans made a dash 

 for liberty, and succeeded in crossing the line, and were 

 safe in America. I am slightly di-figured, but not in 

 the ring. " Pacific. 



AN ADIRONDACK TRAIL. 



^HERE were four of us— three lawyers and a layman, 

 L the latter writing this sketch that it might be truth- 

 ful. It was a congenial quartette, too, for each did as he 

 pleased, and each pleased to do as the others did. So the 

 first requisite of a pleasant trip was assured, for nothing 

 is more destructive of the enjoyment of such trips than a 

 member of the party who can be satisfied with nothing 

 but the accomplishment of his own desires when they 

 conflict with the desires of the other members. 



The trip from Syracuse to Malone, the principal north- 

 ern gateway to the Adirondack?, was somewhat tedious 

 and wholly uneventful. But there was rare pleasure in 

 the four teen- mile drive to the State Dam, southeast from 

 Maloue, and real luxury in the hostelry of R. G. Low, 

 who knows exactly what to do to make a tired man seek- 

 ing rest and recreation happy and contented. There is 

 no place in the Adirondacks where a man of gentlemanly 

 instincts will be better satisfied with the treatment he 

 receives. State Dam has long been known for its fruit- 

 fulness of anglers, and at proper seasons yields up abund- 

 ance of sport. Its contiguous waters are scarcely less 

 popular, and the wonderful breeding grounds maintain 

 the supply of trout from year to year. Four miles from 

 tins resort is the home of the Ragged Lake Club of Syra- 

 cuse, which is being converted into a place of rest and 

 pleasure for business men who like a ten days' Tetreat to 

 the great forest. The southern view from State Dam 

 embraces a magnificent panorama, scattered along which 

 are the peaks of some fifteen well-known mountains. A 

 solid mass of mixed timber makes up the foreground, 

 with silvery lakes and streams in contrast with the dense 

 green of the heavy foliage. It was among constant 

 delights that we spent four days, when three of us started 

 upon a trip through the heart of the great wilderness, 

 one of the very genial lawyers being called home, much 

 to our regret, for none could have appreciated the trip 

 better than he, and we should have revelled in his Scotch 

 wit, apt allusions and opinions of men and things. 



On Tuesday morning, June 18, at an early hour, we set 

 out for the railroad six miles distant, to pass Loon Lake, 

 Round Pond and Rainbow Lake, and reach Paul Smith's 

 via Bloomingdale. This narrow-gauge road extends 

 from Plattsburgh to Saranac Village. It is extremely 

 crooked and has ever- varying grades. Trains are stopped 

 wherever a person signals, and their running is much 

 like that of the New York elevated trains. But the loco- 

 motives are engines of destruction. Already have they 

 burnt over great strips of land on either side of the road, 

 and the terrible devastation must continue until a path- 

 way will be laid waste, which will seriously disfigure a 

 great region of heretofore solid timber. 



We found about forty guests at Paul Smith's, with 

 every prospect of a full house early in July, From year 

 to year improvements occur at this place, until it has be- 

 come a wilderness Eden, but still changes are made 

 which add to its comfort and loveliness. The great house 

 and outbuildings have recently been supplied with a 

 complete fire service, to be operated by a drilled fire bri- 

 gade of employees in case of necessity, so that no more 

 disasters from fire are probable. Paul's sons are the 

 active managers of the resort— capable, efficient, court- 

 eous gentlemen. 



Beautiful St. Regis! Your glories have often been 

 sung, but only feebly. It is the eye rather than the ear 

 that appreciates your loveliness. 



Our start from'Smith's through to Booneville was made 

 soon after 3 o'clock, with a guide and bo it for each of us. 

 The di-tance to be traveled was about one hundred miles, 

 and we had three days in which to make the trip, I 

 shall endeavor to describe the route so clearly that any 

 person wishing to cover it will recognize this as a con- 

 densed and ragged, but truthful pen-sketch. The dis- 

 tance, then, across the lower St, Regis is one and one-half 

 miles, into Spitfire and across it. one and one-half miles; 

 and into the upper St. Regis, two miles in length. There 

 are many expensive and beautiful cottages or "camps" 

 to be seen on the points of the beautiful shores, and the 

 scenery is constantly most charming. At the head of 

 this lake (these waters run northward) is Bunker's carry, 

 one and one-half miles to Big Clear Lake; but the 

 "carry" is made with a horse and wagon over a good 

 road, at $1.25 per boat. 



Taking a brief rest at a well-kept hotel at the end of 

 the carry, and taking a glance at the grand scenery 

 round about, and you hasten three miles across the 

 crystal waters of the Big Clear to another carry four 

 miles in length. If you have telegraphed ahead from 

 Paul Smith's you will be met at this and the carry pre- 

 viously mentioned by wagons to transport boats and a 

 four-seated wagon to carry persons from Big Clear to 

 the Upper Saranac, where the four-mile carry ends, 



directly at Saranac Inn, owned by a club of gentlemen, 

 with Dr. Ward, of Albany, at its head. This was forrjir 

 erly known as the Prospect Home, but its name was re- 

 cently changed. It is the inn where Mr. Cleveland has 

 spent parts of several seasons, and the same telegraph 

 instruments in the office which gave daily records of his 

 doings still do duty for visitoi s. The Upper Saranac is 

 a central figure of the Adirondacks, the "Queen of the 

 Saranaos." Its elevation above tide water is about 

 1,700! t, and commands a picturesque viuw. In the fore- 

 ground are hills approaching mountains, while far in the 

 distance are Whiteface, Marcy (said to be the oldest rock 

 formation known to geologists), Mclntyre, Seward, and 

 others of prominence, with smaller ones between the 

 foreground aud background, forming successive steps 

 like the seats of an amphitheater. This scenery ranks 

 with the finest in the wilderness. There are many lakes 

 in the vicinity where anglers enjoy rare sport, good fish- 

 ing being procurable at almost any season of the year. 



When we left the Saranac Ion at 8 o'clock in the morn- 

 ing, continuing our trip southward, there were five boats 

 in line to buffet the head wind and rough water for eight 

 miles. It was a beautiful morning; everything seemed 

 to combine to create a dreamland for our especial benefit. 

 Something of interest was constantly spread before the 

 little flotilla of bounding boats, from whose bows a spray 

 was often thrown through which rainbow hues were 

 occasionally reflected. At Corey's, now kept by Ed. 

 McCoy, the guides had dinner while we followed the 

 boats over the two mile carry to Raquette River on our 

 way to Long Lake, The water of the river was high, the 

 current strong and the channel crooked, so that the 

 guides needed rest when they had rowed seven miles to 

 Raquette Falls, near which the noted "Mother" Johnson 

 for many years ministered to the comfort of tourists. 

 The place is now most disagreeable in every respect. The 

 proprietor seems to be of the same mind of the man who 

 bought a hotel under promise that it would return the 

 purchase money the first year, and to make sure that it 

 would do so charged his first guest all that the place was 

 worth. With the' boats drawn a m le and a half around 

 the talk — really rapids — and seven miles more of Ruquet 1 e 

 River, we emerged into Long Lake in a rain storm, but 

 found comfortable shelter at Amos Robinson's, situated 

 on an island two miles from the foot of the lake. Long 

 Lake is fourteen miles in length, with an average width 

 of about one mile. Its scenery is variegated and gener- 

 ally attractive. On the eastern shore is the pleasant 

 camp of Senator Piatt, whose wife achieved unpleas- 

 ant notoriety by charges which she made against a 

 guide, who was hunted down and shot — uuju-tly so, the 

 guides very generally say. The home of Mitchell Sabat- 

 tis, the most noted guide of his time, attracts attention. 

 The Sagamore Hotel is a large, well-fitted hostelry near 

 Long Lake village, which has stage connection witu 

 Blue Mountain, two miles away. The town of Long 

 Lake embraces an area of 440 square miles, and has a 

 population of less than one person to a square mile. 



After leaving this lake the Raquette River again be- 

 comes the waterway to Forked Lake. Soon Buttermilk 

 Falls comes to view, and he who has read Murray's "Ad- 

 irondacks" thinks how wildly his imagination ran. He 

 describes his sensations as he descended their boiling, 

 tumbling, seething rapids, through which a log can 

 scarcely go without having its bark torn off by the many 

 rocks it would bound against and over. Here is a carry 

 of forty rods, then , two miles of smooth water to the 

 carry, one and one-half miles long, to Forked Lake, seven 

 miles in length, with ragged, jagged shores and many 

 tongues of land extending hither and thither. It is a 

 fair sheet of water, surrounded with natural beauty. It 

 is possible to "run" the inlet into Raquette Lake, but 

 better to make the carry of half a mile. Once upon the 

 "Queen of the Adirondacks," the eye becomes entranced 

 by the beauty and loveliness so bountifully spread before 

 the vision. The shores of this lake are so irregular that 

 they are said to have a waterliue of one hundred miles, 

 while the greatest length or breadth is only about ten 

 miles. Its elevation above tidewater is about 1.750ft., 

 and its surroundings are uuinjured by the hand of man. 

 Many expensive and attractive camps are to be seen, 

 amid dense foliage, and wild flowers are found in great 

 abundance. A small steam yacht plies the lake, and 

 connects travel with Blue Mountain, ten miles away, 

 through Marion River. The Antlers is a well-fitted cot- 

 tage, surrounded by rustic lodges, where the public is 

 well cared for. And beautifully situated is the Raquette 

 Lake hgtel, formerly known as "Under the Hemlocks," 

 which nas recently come into the possession of two New 

 York gentlemen, E. and F. Finck, who seem to possess 

 every needful quality to win abundant success. The 

 house, the cottages and various buildings, and everything 

 about the place promise abundant rest and pleasure to 

 guests. Connected with it is a post office and telegraph 

 station, and New York morning papers are received on 

 the day of rheir publication. 



We left the lovely Raquette early Friday morning en 

 route to Old Forge, at the western end of the famed Ful- 

 ton Chain of eight lakes. The stait was through a tortu- 

 ous, winding, sluggish stream some four miles: thence to 

 Eighth Lake over a carry of about a mile; thence through 

 this pretty lake and another mile carry to the Seventh 

 Lake, and on to the ever glorious Fourth Lake, grand in 

 its scenery and majestic in formation. One leaves this 

 lake with regret as he hurries onward toward Old Forge, 

 through waters not specially attractive, but among the 

 oldest known of any. The Forge derives its name from 

 an attempt made three-quarters of a century ago to es- 

 tablish iron works at this point, but which proved disas- 

 trous to the undertakers. Two and one-half miles further 

 down the river is Arnold's, where a hunter and trapper 

 lived many years ago, who resented what he thought 

 to be an insult by murdering the man and drowning him- 

 self. From Old Forge to Booneville it is best to go down 

 the river ten or a dozen miles by boat, and then go eight 

 miles over a tram railway to Moose River, and there meet 

 your carriage to take you twelve miles to the Black River 

 Railroad. 



I am aware that I have endeavored to condense matter 

 enough for a book into this short but too long article. It 

 was my purpose only to roughly describe the route of this 

 trip of over one hundred miles for the benefit of tourists 

 and sportsmen, and nowhere else, I believe, can they find 

 a "trail" like this. 



In conclusion, I must express the regret I feel, that the 

 same avarice which drove patronage from Niagara Falls 

 is finding ita way into thiB region- There is a disposition 



