432 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Dec. 20, 1888. 



child hurt in our presence excites more sympathy than 

 does the dea.h, by flood or earthquake, of thousands in 

 Chiua. The old Southern hospitality, differing only in 

 degree, still exists, and its recipients must feel kindly and 

 grateful. 



The history of Beaufort and this vicinity possesses 

 many points of interest. There is the "Old French 

 Fort," and the "Old Spanish Fort and Grove'' for instance, 

 and forts used in 1812 and during the civil war. Back of 

 the French fort is one of the most magnificent conceiv- 

 able groves of live oak; every branch is draped and fes- 

 tooned with pendants of moss, some twelve feet and more 

 in length. This is the place where Beaufort picnics re- 

 sort, and a most suitable one, "excusin"' the sand flies, 

 which during my brief visits to it sadly interfered with 



{deasure; their season, however, lasts but a fortnight 

 onger, then, "excusin' " the rattlesnakes, no place could 

 be more charming. I am assured that the snakes are not 

 so very plentiful as rumor states. A3 one small rattler 

 can make a ten acre lot unhealthy, even two or three 

 might crowd that grove, although it is a large one. 



In one respect I think the grove more worth seeing than 

 the renowned live oak avenue in Buenaventura, in the 

 Savannah cemetery. That has been kept trimmed and in 

 good order; the grove has been left to nature alone, and 

 contrasts with the avenue as does the wilderness with the 

 park. In the sun's rays toward evening the effect of the 

 contrast between the waving banners of etherial-like moss 

 and the sturdy masses of crooked timber of the oaks is 

 beautiful. 



We hare attended service in the quaint old church and 

 listened to unst excellent service anJ delightful singing, 

 while outside the voices of tlie sweet singers of the choir 

 were blended witli the music of the mocking birds, fly- 

 ing about among the trees, and visible through the many 

 wide open doors and windows. 



The floral attractions of Beaufort are wonderful, ex- 

 ceeding even those of California, especially in roses. My 

 water ewer now holds two sprays of Jacqueminots, seven 

 roses to each, and every rose larger than any I have ever 

 before seen, some over 4in. in diameter. At least a hun- 

 dred other roses, sent to us by friends, are scattered in 

 huge boquets around our room, occupying every avail- 

 able vase, mug and tumbler. From two great vines in 

 his garden, Mr. G. C. Judd cut the day before Easter, to 

 adorn the chancel, 1,400 JReve d'ors. The day before 

 Easter, at Aiken, the united proceeds of two hothou-es 

 were about two dozen, which were eagerly bought by 

 the hotel guests at from ten cents to a quarter each. 

 Until the severe cold spell of 18S6, which carried the 

 frost line, as I well remember, down to South Florida, 

 oranges and bauanas flourished here. A few oranges 

 have ripened this season, and the new banana plants 

 look well, but have not yet borne. 



Among the luxuries of Beaufort the time diamond- 

 back terrapin ranks high, and along the beaches are 

 numbers of "cooter boxes," rectangular pens, through 

 which tide ebbs and flows. 



The negroes collect these animals as soon as they begin 

 to move about and feed in the spring, and the pen owner 

 buys them in detail as cheaply as possible, taking all 

 offered, great and small. The little ones are secured at 

 very reasonable prices, for they grow slowly, and are 

 addicted to cannibalism to that extent that a bucket full of 

 little bulls and cows may not produce a pair of "counts" 

 (six inches long). 



A lady at whose house I was guest, and had enjoyed, 

 as none but those so favored can hope to enjoy, the per- 

 fection of terrapin soup, made perfect by the addition of 

 one little secret ingredient, was buying some little ones. 

 The vender was a little negro girl, attired in a comfort- 

 able but single garment, and bearing on her shoulders a 

 bag. "Please, mum, don yer wan some cooter this 

 mawning?*' "How many have you, and how much for 

 them?" "Please,nium, Pse dun got three, one gemman 

 cooter and two lady cooter: the gemman he dun wuff 10 

 cents, mum, but the ladies dey's wuff a quarter apiece, 

 mum." She bought them — little chaps about 4in. long — 

 and if she is lucky in about three years she will have as 

 many "counts." PlSECO. 



A CHRISTMAS ANNIVERSARY. 



AS Christmas draws near each successive year I cele 

 brate, as you might say, an anniversary, such a one 

 as but few have experienced, and those who pass through 

 extreme dangers look back upon them as nightmare^, 

 something they scarcely believe and hardly credit, each 

 year widening the chasm spanned by recollection, and 

 rendering the reality less vivid and real. 



Sept. 23, 1877, I landed in Denver, a tenderfoot from 

 Boston, not entirely green in ways of Western life, for 

 from 1866 until 1872 I had the teaching of ward 

 schools m Illinois, with the "gentlemanly art" adminis- 

 tered by a succession of drubbings at the hands and feel 

 of schoolmates and "scrubs" from the other wards, j 

 also had the pleasure of the finest of duck and goos 

 shooting which then abounded along the Illinois River. 

 Opportunity was given me soon after arrival in Colorado 

 of enjoying a winter's hunting and trapping in the Rocky 

 Mountains. Visions of deer, elk, bear and all the dangers 

 which ardent young sportsmen are so anxious to experi- 

 ence flitted before me, and to let this chance slip would 

 have been as impossible as to kiss the prettiest girl at a 

 church sociable with the old but jealous deacons watch- 

 ing. 



Oct. 16, Jack, the model trapper in buckskin and big 

 hat, drivng a "spike" team, and I, me, myself, with a 

 big hat, Winchester rifle and all the Sxin's*, astraddle of 

 a genuine Ute pony, slowly pulled out of the city headed 

 for the already white and freshly covered Snowy Range. 

 To give all the details of that trip up to my anniversary 

 would take too much space, besides recounting what has 

 become almost every day life to most readers. My first 

 vivid experience was the killing of a wild goat on the 

 mountainside near Georgetown, packing the carcass 

 down to old Jo Vinini's restaurant and selling it for 

 $3 50, making a fast friend of him, and telling him my 

 first good square lie. To acknowledge being a tender- 

 foot was out of the question, so to excuse my thin, ema- 

 ciated condition and pallid face, "I bad been laid up all 

 summer in the Park with mountain fever." 



Over the Berthoud Pass, down, down thope snow-cov- 

 ered roads, silent and more weird in winter than ever we 

 went until we reached Cozzen's Ranch; then acrnss the 

 head of Middle Park to Hot Sulphur Springs, and then 

 to a ranch on the Troublesome. At Tracey's I waited 

 for Jack to bring in the provisions. I had gone ahead 



with a band of horses that were to be wintered in the 

 Park. It was Thanksgiving Dav when we were ready to 

 start for Rock Creek in Egeria Park. After a three-days' 

 trip across Gore Range, we arrived on Blacktiil in a 

 most terrific storm; the wind blew a perfect hurricane 

 and the snow drifted in impassable mountains, but Jack 

 knew where to go, and with two more days, during 

 which the storm raged, and we were continually getting 

 stuck, loading and unloading, digging out one horse 

 after another and then the bob-sled (for we had put on 

 runners) we finally reached the spot where we would 

 build our cabin, two miles from the old camp ground of 

 Colorow's band of renegade TJte3, who afterward were 

 the means of inciting the Utes into the killing of poor 

 old man Meeker and ambushing Thomburg's command 

 on Miik Creek, I had already kUled antelope and deer, 

 and during the trip was fortunate enough to shoot an 

 elk. My experience as I gazed upon the dead monarch 

 of the Rockies I shall never forget. 



Our cabin was soon built, forty miles from a white 

 man's cabin save one directly by side of Colorow's camp, 

 eighty miles to the nearest ranch and over one hundred 

 miles to a settlement. The Utes visited us daily, we 

 swapped some sugar and a little coffee, they begged for 

 powder and lead, but that was dangerous to our future 

 welfare. One Ute offered me two fine ponies for ray Win- 

 chester, but I was not in a mood for trade. Traps were 

 set out and foxes, wolves, otter and other furs were 

 daily added to our string on the cabin. Jack concluded 

 about Christmas to go to Hot Sulphur Springs for mail 

 and see if civilization still remained as we had left it. I 

 was left alone to attend traps and kill what game I 

 wanted. There was no time in the morning or evening 

 that I did not see from one to fifty deer running from 

 one side of the mountain to the other or across the sage 

 brush flats. My tiips were of an all day tramp, first in 

 one circle then another, I had been very successful in 

 bringing in some fine furs, one mountain lion and three 

 immense wolf skins among the rest. Friday I remem- 

 ber well taking the circle to the right across the snowy 

 divide and down the other slope to Toponis Creek, up 

 this to Rock Creek and then to the cabin. Having pre- 

 viously killed three deer in one of the gulches, I con- 

 cluded to go there and bring in a well "seasoned" saddle 

 as my venison was getting low, but I went down the 

 wrong gulch and it being late struck out for camp. 



Saturday A. M. I was up earlier than usual. Leaving 

 my rifle and buckling on a .44 Smith & Wesson I started 

 down Rock Creek for the gulch, reversing the route of 

 Friday. I had unusual good luck in picking up some fine 

 cat skins and a carcajou; also on Toponis succeeded in 

 breaking through the ice, wetting both feet. Arriving at 

 the foot of the long gulch I found that haste must be 

 made or I would not reach the summit of the snowy ridge 

 in time to find our beaten trail down the dangerous north 

 slope; half way up I came to the deer and two more fine 

 cats. To kill them, skin them out and also to cut out a 

 quarter of frozen venison, was a job of some time. 



It was, then, the alternative either to take the chances 

 of a broken neck in the driftwood on the creek and of 

 breaking through the ice, or to gain the summit before 

 dark, locate my course and trust to striking the trail 

 toward camp; or an all night under the stars. These first 

 thoughts of my dangerous position had just dawned upon 

 me. To think was at once to act, and I chose the snowy 

 ridge. Heavily loaded with skins and meat, I toiled up, 

 up, lip" — it seemed as if I never could reach the summit. 

 I did not dare to stop for br«atb, but panted and struggled 

 along. For the first and only time on the trip I had put 

 a flask of gin in my pocket. It was all we had brought. 

 I took a long drink and again started with my load. The 

 sun was fast nearing the tops of the western peaks, it 

 had already dropped below the ridge I was on. Could I 

 reach the summit before it was sunken so low that noth- 

 ing but a great white field without landmarks or familiar 

 spots could be discovered? 



On and up I went, stumbliug against rocks and sticks. 

 The last patch of sunlight had disappeared, and as it 

 faded the darkness seemed to come on at once. A mile 

 yet before I could possibly locate my course down the 

 north side. The deer were everywhere, but I cared 

 nothing for them. At last I approached the open. In 

 vain did I scan the mountainside for the trail; it all 

 looked alike. Once more I tried to revive the sickness at 

 heart and brace myself for the last three miles. Conclud- 

 ing that the safest was the quickest, I made a plunge, and 

 as going down hill in the mountains is comparatively 

 easy, I took on a kind of dog trot. But alas, I had 

 scarcely commenced the descent before in I went, heels 

 over head into a gulch filled to the top with snow. It 

 was human nature to struggle and struggle until nature 

 was overcome. A fainting sensation seized me and I was 

 helpless in the snow up to the armpits. The complete 

 exhaustion was of short duration, as a chill seemed to 

 pa?s through me, and I tried to stand but could not. I 

 listened— hoo-o o hoo-o-o—yip, yap, yappity yip, Mi, kit, 

 Itoo-o-o— wolves and coyotes! nice friends at that time of 

 night, and so unceremonious. 



Gaining strength, I tried to work myself out of the 

 mass, but I was only successful in getting in still deeper. 

 It seemed hopeless, there was no moon, the stars were 

 clear and fairly glittered in countless millions. Again 

 and again, this way and that way I tried it; but I could 

 not get back, and it was impossible to go ahead; what 

 could I do? the snow was almost above my head, I cried 

 out in despair. A howl of derision was my only answer. 

 I did not fear an attack of these brutes, as game was 

 plenty, and the Rocky Mountain wolf rarely if ever attacks 

 a human being. I was exhausted, clear played out, and a 

 dreaminess commenced to take hold of ine: I had the 

 only consolation that probably my bones would be found 

 in the spring. The chill that again aroused me also 

 seemed to give me a little judgment; I would U3e the 

 skins as a kind of foundation; and half rolling on them, 

 covering as much surface of the snow as I could, I finally 

 succeed in reaching the solid earth. 



I then picked my way more carefully until the foot of 

 the range was reached. I knew of a trail part of the 

 way up the other slope, which led directly to the cabin, 

 but that side was slippery from the snows that melted 

 during the day: so stepping, sliding andfalling, frantically 

 trying to climb the icy steep slope, 1 had almost gained 

 the trail, when back I slid nearly 100yds. It was all alike, 

 and useless to try another place, so slowly crawling on 

 my hands and knees I managed to reach the trail. 

 Twenty minutes more and I was at the cabin. It was 

 nearly eleven o'clock. Fred had come up from the 



cabin at Colorow's, and supposing I had gone to his cabin, 

 got his own supper and went to bed. Of course he won- 

 dered where I had been. Tired and worn out, too tired to 

 eat, I pulled or tried to pull off my boots; they stuck fast, 

 but at last one was off. My foot struck the stone hearth. 

 I picked it up in my hands: it was almost solid. Quickly 

 ripping a part of my other boot with my knife, that foot 

 was the same. It was too much for my feelings, and in 

 giving way for a moment, in that moment all my ardent 

 desire for adventure went out too. Of course I suffered 

 terribly with my f eet, but was so fortunate as net to break 

 the blisters. I let nature with plenty of oil tried from cat 

 fat do the healing. 



In about six clays the Utes all went to Hot Sulphur 

 Springs. I sold out my stuff to Fred, taking ponies, etc., 

 and followed their trail, two days after, thence to George- 

 town, crossing the Berthoud Pas3 about Jan. 16. I 

 gained about 301bs. on the trip, and taken as a whole 

 enjoyed it. Tile. 



A DAY'S RIDE. 



FOUR years ago I was one of a party that spent the 

 summer in Wyoming on a ranch, and many times 

 since then have I enjoyed myself while tiring my friends, 

 in burnishing up the memories of Deer Creek Ranche, 

 Here is one of them: 



A still, clear August morning found seven of us in the 

 saddle, three ladies, the Major, two gentlemen ("tender- 

 feet" by profession), and Smith, the guide. We were off 

 on an exploring expedition among the rocks and down 

 the gulches near old Fort Casper, and our commissary 

 being trustworthy, we did not much care in what 

 direction we went, nor how fast nor in what order. The 

 Major carried his large Winchester as a matter of habit, 

 as there was to be no hunting; I took along a little Rem- 

 ington, wanting to keep the nerves of the ladies up to the 

 proper pitch. I may as well state here that I was one of 

 the tenderfeet. Let me also add that while I was a good 

 rider — thanks to horses ever since I wore breeches and 

 could lisp "g'lang" — I was not looked upon as a remarka- 

 ble shot with the rifle. In fact, it was to me that the 

 reins of the horses were generally given to hold while the 

 others did the shooting. 



What a lark we had that morning! Climbing up over 

 a mass of rock and coasting our bare-footed horses down 

 the other side, galloping down beside some quarreling 

 brook, only to plunge through it as it turns suddenly 

 across our way. A shady bunch of cottonwoods sug- 

 gesting it, the question of our luncheon is raised, it is 

 laid on the table and carried unanimously. About 3 

 o'clock we started homeward. The trail we were follow- 

 ing stumbled along, half way up a ragged range of rocks, 

 rising a hundred feet or so on our left, and sinking as far 

 below on the other side, their places taken by the scarred 

 stumps and trunks of what was once a forest. Rounding 

 a sudden corner the Major spied a brown object, motion- 

 less and almost hidden in a tangle of brushwood. Un- 

 slinging his rifle he motioned me to do the same, and 

 told me in a breath that the brown tiring down there in 

 the shade was the back of an elk. The hopes, the fears, 

 the ecstasy of that moment are indescribable. The emp 

 tiness of the past vivified the thought that I should again 

 miss. An idea flashed across my mind: "Major, let's us 

 both aim together, an d when I count three we'll fire." 

 .Not waiting for his answer I up with my rifle, and whisper 

 "One, two," whang! went my rifle, followed by the 

 Major's, but with a little interjection interpolating the 

 two reports. "Why didn't you wait till you had said 

 three?" yelled the Major, as that brown thing faded to 

 gray in the distance. "Why, man, you not only didn't 

 aim at the elk yourself, but you spoiled my shot." 



He looked disgusted as he mounted his horse and led 

 us on again. I deemed it better not to converse much 

 with the ladies about that elk; in fact, I rather led the 

 conversation in other directions, pointing out this or that 

 view as worthy of canvas and the acadeu^, or that mass 

 of granite as a "find" for some street-paving company. 



We followed the shadows of the sun as they rose slowly 

 up the rocks, and had almost reached the summit when I 

 was dumbfounded at seeing four silvertip bears, an old 

 she, a yearling and two cubs, getting over the ground in 

 front in great style. The Major yelled. "Chase them 

 until we can get a good shot." He, Smith and I left the 

 others behind, and then such a scrambling and tumbling 

 up over the rocks! For once I felt equal to the Major, 

 for I was in the saddle. The old bear would shamble 

 over the rocks at a great pace, but had to stop now and 

 then to let the youngs ers catch up with her. The cubs 

 were as fat as butter, and it was laughable to see them 

 stretch out their fat little legs in their endeavor to keep 

 up. The ground was so broken that we could not keep 

 them in sight long enough to get a shot, so on we went. 

 Rounding a sudden turn, Smith, who was in advance, 

 almost ran into the aims of the old bear who was stand- 

 ing on her hindlegs at the base of a huge rock while 

 the cubs were clawing up behind her. Smith beat a 

 quick retreat on his only too willing horse, for his only 

 weapon was a huge knife dangling from his waist. He 

 afterward declared he felt the breath of the bear, she 

 was so close to him. The Major and I jumped off our 

 horses and then we were not more than 60ft. away from 

 the bear. Raising our rifles I waited for the Major to 

 shoot first. Snap! bis gun missed fire. Wrenching down 

 the lever to get another cartridge in, something stuck 

 and nothing would give. His gun was useless. All this 

 time in my excitement the end of my little Remington 

 was describing enough airs and circles to puzzle a pro- 

 fessor. Getting an approximate aim on the bear, I was 

 about to fire when the Ma jor's gun stuck. Knowing that 

 my little bullet, even if it did hit would hardly prove 

 fatal to such a beast, he ordered me not to fire. The 

 cubs by this time were out of sight over the top of the 

 rocks and the old bear seeing there was no fight in us 

 scrambled up after them. Disappointment took the 

 place of exhilaration and excitement. In fact I was dis- 

 gusted, and I improved the opportunity of getting in a 

 word or two at the Major for his lack of coolness in 

 managing his gun. We were all of us sulky as we r tie 

 on toward the ranch, and the Major lost what little re- 

 maining grace he had when, being momentarily unde- 

 cided which was the right trail in the dark, I decided 

 correctly. The buffalo skin I slept on that night in the 

 tent transformed itself in my dreams into a bear skin 

 and reversed matters by sleeping on me, growling and 

 tearing generally. I then realized the truth of the 

 Major's guess, that the bear weighed a thousand pounds, 



F'LIN. 



