142 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[March 13, 1890. 



WOE IN THE WILDERNESS. 



O URROITNDED daily as I am in the pursuit of my pro- 



0 tension, with all the current literature of the times, 



1 welcome no printed pages more eagerly than those be- 

 tween the covers of Forest and Stream, Born under 

 the shadow of the maun tains in sight of the brokee 

 ranges which traverse West Virginia, Maryland and 

 Pennsylvania, the love which the writer cherishes for 

 their wooded and lonely fastnesses lias naturally de- 

 veloped with himself, and now their more familiar do- 

 miin assists in enjoying a periodical vacation. I can 

 turn with pride to a little journal wherein as a boy I 

 recorded having shot a quail on the wing over my mon- 

 grel dog when eleven years old. 



Bat these same old mountain friends of mine played 

 me a scurvy trick three winters ago, by which they drove 

 any idea that I am acquainted with all their secrets out 

 of my head in a very short space of time. I will proceed 

 to tell how it all happened. A few days before Thanks- 

 gi ving two vel erans of the late war and myself penetrated 

 the West Virginia wilderness. Neither of my soldier 

 companions could plead "physical disability unfitting 

 them for manual labor," and I consider myself the equal 

 of either. We arrived at the last house that we could 

 expect to see until our return to it after an absence of 

 two days in the forest in search of game. The weather 

 being beautif ul our party started early next morning into 

 the forest depths with all our duffle, guns and two days' 

 rations on our backs. After traveling several miles a 

 cold rain began to fall, and the storm rapidly developed 

 into a regular mountain roarer-. Just before nightfall 

 we bundled into a bark-pealer's shelter, long since de- 

 sertpd by the builder, but at the time of our arrival oc- 

 cupied temporarily by the aged John Browning, who like 

 ourselves had taken refuge from the storm. 



I must say a word about Mr. B., for he is the grandson 

 of the famed pioneer, trapper and hunter, Meshack 

 Browning, whose adventures in these wilds when few 

 save Indians ppnetrate d them form the nucleus of hun- 

 dreds of fireside legends well known in this part of 

 the country. He was the hero of "The Wilderness," a 

 volume published years ago, but now rarely seen. With 

 the weight of more than seventy years and nearly two 

 hundred pounds of avoirdupois this grandson, scion of a 

 race of woodsman, travels the forest each winter armed 

 with his long muzzleloading rifle and cutlery of his own 

 manufacture, cUd in moccasins and fur, accompanied 

 only by his ''yaller" do?, which is always discreet enough 

 to heed his bidding. He said he would some day trade 

 his rifle for a shotgun. So we found him here with per- 

 h ipsa half dozen bread cakes in his bag and no game. 

 Oar shelter was about ten feet long by seven wide, with 

 one side and two ends to it. Fortu nately the exposed 

 side did not face the storm. With everything wet and 

 cold, having no axe, we worried through untd morning, 

 when we found that the number of our family had been 

 increased by the arrival of tvvo Pittsburgh gentlemen, 

 who were also in want of provision and t-helter. The 

 new day dawned upon about a foot of wet snow and the 

 weather was rough. The entire party set out by twos in 

 uest of meat. The old soldiers being together saw two 

 eer but failed to kill either, having fallen into the blun- 

 der of waiting too long for better t-hots, and that night's 

 scant supper ended our stock of edibles and even the last 

 of our tobacco supply. Then there arrived at intervals 

 five more recruits to our party, and among them Mr. 

 Browning's eldest son. The new lodgers brought an axe 

 and we soon had a comfortable fire and an intolerable 

 smoke if nothing else. That smoke all but drove us out 

 of the shanty, and we all looked more like country cured 

 hams than white nipn by the time wo left there. During 

 the night the bedding caught fire, and later the roof was 

 in a blaze at one corner, but with the exception of these 

 two alarms we passed another night unmolested and full 

 of hope of success on the morrow. 



The next morning dawned with a driving storm of 

 snow and sleet, the ground covered to the depth of over 

 eighteen inches, no grub for eleven hungry men whose 

 sharpened appetites were not wholly due to the purity 

 of mountain air. Patting a bold face on the matter on 

 this "Thanksgiving Day" morning, all parties, as I 

 thought, except myself, struck out determinedly into 

 the forest, most of them going toward the west. And 

 here begins "my tale of woe" concerning a series of un- 

 anticipated events which will ever make that Thanks- 

 giving Day a memorable one to me, and which nearly 

 ended the career of two of us. An idea had gotten into 

 my head that the most likely place to kill game in that 

 country was on the "benches," an immense plateau of 

 the most inaccessible mountain near us, lying directly 

 south some miles distant, but as no one had ever been 

 known to go there I had determined that I would do it 

 this day and alone, nor did I take the trouble to explain 

 my intentions to the others who had just started out. 

 While I was getting ready to start, one of my veteran 

 friends of the original party put in his appearance, hav- 

 ing been to a neighboring spring and not having started 

 with the rest. Still more to our mutual surprise we 

 learned that our plans for the day were identical, and 

 without further delay we finished our preparations and 

 set out with empty stomachs but full of hope for success. 



My plan was to travel four miles south, hunt about six 

 miles west over the best ground, and return by the most 

 inviting route to camp. 1 After going through some im- 

 mense laurel thickets, with their evergreen foliage 

 weighted clown with the wet snow, we were compelled 

 to wade waist deep across a stream. Here we began the 

 ascent to the first bench through the worst laurel and 

 dead pine brush thicket I have ever seen. When we 

 emerged we found ourselves on top of an immense ledge 

 of rocks probably 25ft. in perpendicular height and facing 

 the bench. Alleys several feet in width divided this 

 rocky table into many sections, and it was with great 

 difficulty ar?d loss of time that we finally stood at its base. 

 From this time on in the driving sleet, which was now 

 colder than ever, we struggled through thickets of laurel, 

 jangles of briers, swamps, windfalls and the like in the 

 futile search for game large or small. We kept our 

 course correctly but our progress was slow, and ourselves 

 weak and benumbed when the gathering shadows of 

 evening added somewhat of mental gloom to our phys- 

 ical suffprings. As night gathered we found ourselves 

 still breaking our way through thickets in the direction 

 of camp, as our compass told us, but alas, not less than 



six miles yet to tramp. A mouth full of broken teeth 

 are evidence of how I gnawed at that compass to open it 

 when my hands were too stiff and shaky to be any longer 

 able to perform their proper functions. My companion 

 would generally hold his hat to catch the important little 

 instrument when I had succeeded in opening it, being 

 fearful that it might fall in the snow and be lost. 



We were now in a truly alarming condition. The 

 weather had grown much colder, night was upon us, our 

 clothes were almost torn off us, our matches had been 

 lost when the pocket that contained them was left hang- 

 ing in shreds on a snag, and we had not eaten a mouth- 

 ful for twenty-four hours. No wonder we were exhausted 

 and discouraged, and then we were certain that no living- 

 person knew of the direction we had taken and would 

 likely think that we had returned to the settlemeut. 

 Struggling onward in the darkness, and growing weaker 

 every minute, we were continually falling, and bad blind 

 falls they were, too. Each time we found it more diffi- 

 cult to regain our footing. We spent a long time in try- 

 ing to make a fire by firing charges of powder into the 

 dryest recesses of logs and rocks, but each attempt ended 

 in a failure. 



Now, by the way, my companion, the veteran of many 

 bloody fields, sometimes swears when surrounding cir- 

 cumstances are not auspicious, and his oft-repeated re- 

 mark of "Deacon, by , we'll never get out 



of here. I'll never go into such a country 



again if I get out of this." And then he would take a 

 solemn oath to break his gun over a tree as soon as he 

 got strong enough to do it, and never bunt deer any 

 more. But my friend must be excused from keeping 

 these promises, made under such trying circumstances, 

 though his epithets sounded somewhat incongruous upon 

 so serious an occasion. 



Becoming more dumb and exhausted our very mental 

 faculties gradually deserted us and from this point to the 

 end of the adventure our tale is compiled from evident 

 facts and the evidence of others. We unwittingly 

 separated and then all was a blank in the memory ©f 

 either of us. The others, it seemed, had returned to camp 

 early in the day and dispatched a detail to the settlement 

 for provisions. When these returned in the evening they 

 created the first thought of anxiety for us by stating that 

 we had not been there. As they found most of our duffle 

 still in camp they knew that we had gone hunting and 

 were lost. Search parties started out in different 

 directions, and between ten and eleven o'clock that night 

 the other old soldier of our orieinal party accidentally 

 stumbled over the body of my fellow pufferer. They then 

 indeed were "comrades in arms." Over four miles of 

 forest hills he went, and when awakened from the deadly 

 sleep by the frantic efforts of the hunters he was able 10 

 give them some clue to my whereabouts. His back track 

 was easily followed, as it was not snowing now, and in 

 due course of time I was extended on a buffalo robe, my 

 clothes, or what was left of them, cut off, and a corps of 

 rough but kind-hearted nurses were ministering to both 

 of us. I revived about 11 o'clock the next day and was 

 about as sorry a looking mortal as could well be imagined. 

 We were so sore both inside and out, frott-bitten and 

 bruised, that it was out of the question to movp, eat or 

 sleep for a day or two, and then but little of either 

 sufficed us. 



It is needless to say that this escapade ended hunting, 

 as far as we were concerned, for this trip, though our 

 companions were eventually quite successful with the 

 deer and turkey. Through the kindness of a native I 

 marched through Pittsburgh clad in a home-made pair of 

 "Johnny Reb" pantaloons of a size intended for a man at 

 least one cubit less in stature than I am; but he has my 

 thanks just the same for giving the best he had. I will 

 add that on this memorable Thanksgiving Day I carried 

 a half pint bottle of whisky, and when in my extremity 

 I sought to revive my flagging energies by taking a dram 

 of it, I discovered its utter inability to supply the demand 

 made upon it; and I never finished that bottle nor would 

 I put any faiih in its utility in such cases, and I am by no 

 means a Prohibitionist, but consider good liquor an ex- 

 cellent beverage. . Deacon. 

 Greensbuhg, Pa. 



ANTOINE HEARD FROM. 



DANVIS, Vt., Feb. 25.— Editor Forest and Stream: I 

 have been importuned by an aged Canadian, resi- 

 dent of this township, to communicate to you some of 

 his ideas in his own imperfect English, concerning arti- 

 cles which have appeared in the columns of your valuable 

 journal. Such portions of which as interest him, it is 

 my custom to read to him on Saturday evenings. I 

 would greatly prefer to clothe his ideas in elegant 

 English, but he insists that I shall write as he speaks, and 

 evidently cherishes the opinion that he has a better com- 

 mand of the language, which he only began to acquire 

 when he had arrived at manhood and never has made 

 much progress in, than I, an American by birth and a 

 schoolmaster by profession. 



Without further comment, I submit his letter to you. 

 If you should be inclined to consider it worthy of publi- 

 cation, I doubt not it will be followed by others. 



Very Respectfully, Horace Mumpson. 



Danvit, 3 Februaire, 1890. 

 31'sieu de zhontyraens what mek Fores'' Strim papier: 



'F Ah ant read all of it, Ah '11 hear greddeal of you 

 papier, an' Ah '11 tink gret many tarn Ah '11 wrote to 

 you mah pinyin sometings you 'U,primp in it. 



Naow, Ah '11 took motion Ah will wrote biccause you 

 primp dat lett' Ah '11 wrote to dat kan o' cussin for me, 

 what he '11 call it heeself Creholes, an' dat lett' he gat 

 M'sieu Uffer wrote to me. 



Ah '11 ant hear of it some more. Ah guess he was feel 

 so big for be keeck aout Canada, to wrote to mans dat 

 come off 'cause he ant want be keek, Ah do' know, me. 



Ah '11 faght in de Papeneau war, me. Ah '11 ant hear 

 of mah cussin Arsene LeBlanc gran'faders faght moch, 

 hein? Prob'ly he '11 tink it was healthy for be safety, Ah 

 guees. Wal, Ah don' ere for dat. 



Ah '11 goin' wrote 'baout what Ah read in Fores' 

 Strim, an' Ah '11 been go ail 'raoun' an' see gret many, 

 an' Ah do' know 'f Ah want tol' sometings mahsef . 



Ah '11 see gret many man tol' more as he do. An' Ah 

 '11 see gret many do more as he t6P of it, same Ah do, but 

 Ah lak bose of it. 



Eef man ant mek gret many do, and tol' more as dat, he 

 mek it more interess as it was ! f he tol' jus what he do. 



Eef man do more as he tol', dat was oes for save hees 

 breathe, don't it? Ah '11 be so modesty, Ah ant never tol' 



more as Ah '11 do, not quat so moch, an' Ah '11 ant gat 

 hairs on me ant hones, xep' some, Ah '11 lose top mah 

 head of it, an' Ah '11 ant to blame for dat. 



Ah '11 hear read what folks tol' he do in Fores' Strim. 

 Some of it Ah '11 b'lieve, some of it Ah '11 ant. Ah '11 

 use mah hown notion for dat. 



W'en someboddee tol' he keel greasily bear wid leetly 

 shot for chickmonk or pigin, Ah '11 b'lieve it jus' mocn 

 Ah b'lieve someboddee tol' me he keel ten pateraige evree 

 ten shot, w'en he fly up in dehwood "vroop! vroop!" 



©ey '11 ant bose can do dat, more as Ah can flew, bah 

 gosh! 



Ah '11 ant see dat greasily bear, but Ah see dat pater- 

 aige an' Ah know of it. Mans can' keel de black bear, 

 ant so bigger as me, same what we'll gat in Canada, wid 

 leetly shot. Haow spose he'll goin' keel greasily bear, big- 

 ger as hoxens, hein? 



One man he'll mek it rittymatick an' mek some photy- 

 grab wid hees pen for show bes' way for shot pateraige 

 w'en he flew, shot 'head of it, where he ant be, den pat- 

 eraige flew raght into de shoot. 'F he '11 shot where he 

 was, he '11 ant be dare w'en shoot got in dat place. 



Nodder mans say he '11 ant want see hees gawn w'en he 

 shot only jus' look raght at pateraige all tarn he shot— 

 pung! be keel it mos' evree tam. 



Ah do' know haow he'll keel of it 'f bebehine of it 'less 

 hees gawn keek lak hole tunder, me, Ah do' know for 

 bose of it. 



Ah can' wase mah shoot, ten cen' a paoun' on store in 

 Danvit, for shot him w'en Ah '11 ant took sight. What 

 use for be so foolishly? 



W'en Ah want pateraige Ah '11 go stepl on hwood ant 

 mek it more nowse as leetly mice, 'cep win' blow lak hoi' 

 Hairy Cain, den Ah '11 ant care for leetly nowse. Ah '11 

 go caffly an' slow, look more faster as Ah '11 go. Bombye 

 Ah '11 hear pateraige say, "Quit! quit! '' 



Ah '11 ant quit, but Ah 'II spik to it, "Wlieu. whue, 

 leheu" kan o' bofly. Den he stop for listlin. an' Ah 'It Bee 

 it an' Ah '11 pint mah gawn so straight at it Ah '11 felt dat 

 pateraige in my pocket coat; Ah '11 mos' smelt heeni in 

 Ursule hees pot. "Pung!" Ah '11 gat she. 



Mebby Ah '11 see it f us tam on la wg mek heself look lak 

 knot, mebby on tree way up, look at for see me, tink 

 Ah '11 can' see heem. But he '11 gat no deefrence, me. 



"Pung! Bloomp! Flup, flup&up-flup!" 



Ah '11 ant wase mah tam, man shoot, mah cap— noting?, 

 an' dat pateraige go home long to me, mebby two. tree 

 hees folks, for see Ursule, an' she be veree glad an' mah 

 chillun too, for &ee dat company Ah '11 brought home to 

 dinny. Antoine Bissette. 



Scrirpos. — Miss Hudly Sam Lovel, he '11 tol' mah waf 

 Ursule dat lett' ant good f >r moch 'less he '11 gat scrippos 

 Ah b'lieve he'll call it. 'F dat was be so Ah '11 gat have 

 one. GtUpss Ah '11 goin' say for it, AH wrote gin 'baiut 

 sometings Ah '11 gat on mah min', pooty soon. A. B. 



Note. — I have examined Mr. Bhsette's ancient weapon. 

 The inscription engraved onio battered heel-plite, waich 

 he takes to be the name of the maker, is "G. R. S., No. 

 10," and on the lock-plate the word "Tower," 



I conclude that it is a Tower rnusket, manufactured in 

 the reign of George II. and belonged to the 10th Regi- 

 ment, which quite probably participated in Abercrombie's 

 disastrous assault upon Ticonderoga. If so, it may have 

 come into the possession of Mr. Bissette's ancestor (if he 

 had one) in the manner he describes. It is more prob ible 

 that he himself appropriated the arm during his service 

 in the Papineau war. 



My observations compel the conclusion that, owing to 

 their great longevity, the French Canadians have very 

 few ancestors, and also that the truth may be more easily 

 reached by believing the opposite of any statement made 

 by these people, than by placing implicit confidence in 

 their assertions. — H. M. ' 



ROBINS AND OLIVES. 



ONE feature of the effect of the severe winter on this 

 coast is the presence with us of great numbers of 

 birds that usually winter further north. Wild pigeons 

 are with us in countless flocks. The varied thrush or 

 Oregon robin, called here "tree robin," has invaded us in 

 hordes. Both this and the common robin make their 

 winter home in this State, but we have never seen the 

 Oregon robin so plentiful before, probably because they 

 are all driven down out of the northern portions of their 

 wintering grounds. This little city has been invaded by 

 them, and every yard and lot has its dozens, hunting the 

 elusive earthworm. 



In respect to the life of the common robin in this State, 

 a new element has been introduced. The foothills at the 

 elevation of this place — that is to say about 1,000ft. — have 

 always been a favorite wintering ground of this bird, 

 owing to the presence in great plenty of the shrub or 

 small tree called "toyou" by the Mexicans and "holly" 

 by the Americans. It is scientifically known as Hetero- 

 msles arbidifolia. This tree bears abundant lodds of 

 scarlet berries, much used in California for winter decor- 

 ations, which persist, like those of the mountain ash, 

 throughout the winter. This has been the piece de resist- 

 ance for the robins' winter dinner in this part of the 

 State, and has always brought countless thousands here. 



And now comes in a new factor that may ultimately 

 cut a very large figure in the survival of this familiar 

 bird — at least on this coast. Olive growing is a new in- 

 dustry, that has been introduced into Placer county 

 within the last ten years. Numerous olive orchards are 

 just coming into bearing, and the robins took an active 

 part in harvesting the crop this season. The olive is late 

 to ripen, not being fit to gather for the purpose of oil 

 making until December, consequently the robins have 

 all arrived here in time to take a hand in the harvesting. 

 The writer has always held the opinion, since tasting one., 

 that any creature that could eat a ripe olive, and survive, 

 ought to have a medal. It is a mystery how such a deli- 

 cious article of diet as olive oil can be derived from such 

 a vile-tasting fruit as an olive. It is astringent, sour, 

 bitter, acrid, greasy and altogether damnable ! It seems 

 to suit the robin's palate, however, and the only full- 

 bearing orchard here was robbed of $4,000 worth of fruit 

 in three days, in spite of half a dozen guns, kept in con- 

 stant use, and. the death of over a thousand of the birds 

 in that time. Arefab, 

 Auburn, California, Feb. 36. 



