see 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May 29, 1890. 



THE BRIDAL TOUR OF THE KENNEDYS. 



WHEN the question arose as to where we should go. 

 Henry strongly urged our gaing off without hav- 

 ing any particular place in view. He said it would give 

 so much more zest to the journey. Furthermore, that if 

 our honeymoon was to be an epitome of our future, 

 while we should seek for pleasure and good, we should 

 not hope to fix in advance the precise place we should 

 find them in. Nevertheless 1 could hardly wait until the 

 train had started until I said: 



" Now, Henry Kennedy, where are we going ?" 

 They were almost the first words I, his wedded wife, 

 had spoken to him. He looked straight at me for a great 

 many seconds, as though feeling the weight of the ques- 

 tion ; but retained his composure and said that we were 

 going to Pueblo, Colorado. I could not help thinking 

 tbat,°f or a person who had started away from home with- 

 out any knowledge of his destination, the manner of its 

 acquirement since had been mysterious, to say the least. 



"Of course," he said in explanation, " there had to be 

 some initial objective point." 



" But of all the initial objective points on earth, why 

 Pueblo? I exclaimed." 



" My dear," evidently sighting white-caps, "why not? 

 It lies directly in our way, and, besides, it is accessible 

 by rail." 



It is needless to remark that this excited sarcasm, 

 which in turn drew out such arguments in favor of Pue- 

 blo as, that there was nothing in the Constitution of the 

 United States prohibiting our going there. Meanwhile, 

 our train moved rapidly westward. Once, when we were 

 rolling along over the beautiful prairies of Kansas, our 

 books lying unheeded in our laps, he turned and asked 

 me if I had in my trunk an old dress that I did not care 

 anything about. Thunder-struck, I replied that I had 

 not. 



I do not attempt to explain all of his sayings at such 

 times. It is sufficient to say that he cultivated an air of 

 mystery and that when I pressed him to be more lucid, 

 he smiled benignantlv, and surreptitiously pressed me 

 back. Furthermore, I was tired out, and was glad to 

 luxuriate in the consciousness that my wedding things 

 had been pretty, and that I hadn't any more work to do, 

 and that it would be all right, even if we were going to 

 Pueblo. 



It was very warm there, but the thick walls of the hotel 

 kept out the heat, and we found it very endurable. When 

 we were freed from the dust of travel and I had rested a 

 while, we had our luncheon, after which we walked 

 down into the business part of the city, as Henry said, to 

 do some shopping. He made the following purchases: 



1 butcher knife, 

 1 hatchet, 



1 ax, 



51bs. nail?, 

 ^lb. copper wire, 



2 tin wash basins, 



1 can opener, 

 6 tin cups, 

 6 tin plates, 



2 frying pans, 

 2 wooden pails, 



And then, as the truth began to dawn upon me, he 

 walked me across the street to a grocery store, where he 

 purchased: 



3 small tin buckets, 

 1 bread pan, 

 1 camp-stove (price $1.75), 

 6ft. of stovepipe, 

 1 small coffee pot, 



1 large coffee pot, 



2 folding chairs, 

 2 milk pans, 

 100ft. J^in. rope. 



1 set of tent poles and pins. 



21bs. hoarhound candy, 

 1 salt sack, 

 1 box pepper, 

 1 box mustard, 

 1 bottle pickles, 

 1 sack potatoes, 

 olbs. onions. 

 5 cans tomatoes, 

 5 cans corn, 

 5 cans peaches, 

 5 cans Boston baked beans, 

 5 cans corned beef, 

 121 bs. butter. 



251bs. flour, 

 lOlbs. corn meal, 

 % box crackers, 

 1 can baking powder, 



1 doz. boxes matches, 



2 doz. nandles, 

 2 candlesticks, 

 1 strip of boneless bacon, 

 1 bam, 

 51bs. coffee, 

 lib. tea, 

 lOlbs. sugar, 

 1 can maple syrup, 



These were sent over to the hardware store and the 

 people there packed them securely and hauled them to 

 the depot. The kind service we received at this store, 

 the Pueblo Hardware Company, is deserving of mention. 

 And, however strange it may seem, it is one of the very 

 pleasing memories of our trip. 



Henry said that the other things were in his trunks. 



We strolled back to the hotel through the then much 

 cooler streets in time for dinner, the last formal repast 

 we sat down to for many a day. We were awakened at 

 two o'clock in the morning to take the Denver & Rio 

 Grande train for Wagon Wheel Gap. The narrow gauge 

 sleeping cars on this road are marvels of comfort and 

 commodity. We were rather surprised not to find our- 

 selves riding single file. Before the train started. Henry 

 left me for a moment, coming back with the comforting 

 assurance that all our things were in the baggage car. 

 When we arose in time for breakfast the next morning, 

 the train was doggedly pushing its way up into the moun- 

 tains. It had been delayed in the night and stopped at a 

 wayside hotel reached by a plank walk across an irri- 

 gated mountain field ; and it seemed very much like a 

 picnic party of ladies and gentlemen, who tripped and 

 danced along by the grass and clear water. Every one 

 of us ate what we could get and was satisfied, and then, 

 returning to the train, the gentlemen smoked and frater- 

 nized, while the ladies 'betook themselves to the open 

 doors and windows, lifting up their faces gratefully to 

 the mountains as they ushered them into their peaceful 



After crossing one range of mountains and rounding 

 the wonderful Mule-Shoe Curve, we descended into a hot 

 sage brush plain through which we traveled several hours 

 until, at Alimosa, we took the branch road winding up 

 the narrow and tortuous eafion of the Rio Grande. But 

 we were getting past our dinner hour and my head began 

 to ache severely ; and when, at three o'clock, we arrived 

 at our journey's end, I was too sick to eat. Here again 

 we were met with kindness from the Franklyns, who 

 kept the only hotel and, indeed, the onlv house there ex- 

 clusive of the depot buildings and the Springs. They 

 hastily prepared dinner for my husband and a cup of tea 

 for me, and then provided us with a man and wagon to 

 haul our things and us to our camping ground. We 

 climbed up on top of the first load, and when we had 

 driven about a half mile down the river to a little moun- 

 tain-encircled meadow, Henry 6aid, "This is the place. 

 Drive over near the bank, between those two trees and 

 the bushes. We will camp there." 



When they had unloaded the wagon, Henry brought 



out from one of his trunks a bed tick which the driver 

 took back with him. I had wondered at my husband's 

 bringing two trunks; but he now opeupd one of them and 

 took out: One 12x14 wall tent, one rubber blanket, sheets 

 and pillow cases, two rubber pillows, three pairs of 

 woolen blankets. The other things he said he would un- 

 pack in the morning. 

 Then it began to rain. 



The partner of my joys and sorrows brought me a 

 gossamer and an umbrella , perched me on top of my trunk 

 with all my precious wedding things in it, shut the bed- 

 ding up in the other trunk, and then laughed at me. I 

 couldn't help thinking it was not connubial in him. He 

 then proceeded to pitch the tent, calling on me for assist- 

 ance at the critical stage, which showed that he could not 

 have gotten on without me, and which restored my self 

 respect. And when the tent gradually shaped itself into 

 a shelter, my courage came back. Then the rain stopped, 

 and the wagon returned with the remainder of the boxes 

 and with the tick, now filled to extravagant rotundity 

 with fine mountain hay. Spreading the rubber blanket 

 in one corner of the tent, they placed the mattrass upon 

 it, carried the trunks and boxes in and ranged them on 

 the other side, and then the driver left us alone. Next 

 came the twilight, and, before I knew it, the bed was all 

 made, with the clothes turned down, showing the temp- 

 ting little pillows and the white home-like sheets, a drink 

 of clear water brought from the river, the tent flaps 

 closed for the night against the cold, the candles burning 

 cheerily, casting fantastic shadows against the white 

 walls, and we were laughing at the odd experience of 

 using trunks for dressing; tables. The lights were put out, 

 and soon the sound of the turbulent river hard by had 

 sung us to sleep. 



When I awoke, the sun was shining and I could see 

 Henry building a fire in the stove on the grass outside. 

 He brought me a basin of water, soap and towels, and 

 then began preparations for breakfast. When I was 

 dressed, I helped him. He baked a pan of biscuit in the 

 oven of the stove while I fried some potatoes and break- 

 fast bacon on top, and when they were sufficiently ad- 

 vanced, he made some coffee. It was really delicious and 

 was made in this wise. He put a rather liberal quantity 

 of ground coffee in the small coffee pot, held it over the 

 fire until it began to "roast," and then poured boiling 

 water over it from a large coffee pot, covering it up tight 

 and wrapping a towel around the lid so that none of the 

 aroma escaped. We ate breakfast on one of the boxes : 

 Hot biscuits and butter, fried potatoes, bacon and coffee. 



My headache was all gone, and, in a few moments, so 

 was our breakfast. I got out some writing materials and 

 wrote a letter to mamma, and Henry went to work fix- 

 ing up. I almost forgot to state that in his trunks were 

 also three jars of raspberry jam, two jars of cherry pre- 

 serves, two jars of plum preserves, six glasses of jelly, 

 all home made by his housekeeper, plated knives, forks 

 and spoons, napkins, dish towels, etc., etc., a roll of light 

 ducking, fishing tackle, 10-gauge shotgun, .45-75 Win- 

 chester, rubber boots, photograph outfit, books. 



It was two or three days before we were entirely set- 

 tled, but most of the heavy work was done by four o'clock 

 that day. Then Henry began jointing up his rod and said 

 he couldn't keep away from the stream any longer (and, 

 indeed, now that I know trout fishing, I wonder that he 

 kept away so long). We went to the bridge just above 

 our tent, from which a man had been fishing all after- 

 noon. But we did not fish any there. We went down 

 under it, and in a few moments, as soon as his cast got 

 straightened out, my husband caught enough for dinner. 

 They were small ones, but he said the man on the bridge 

 was visible and scared the larger ones away. 



What a dinner we had ! Trout, stewed tomatoes, po- 

 tatoes, jelly, biscuit, fruit cake and coffee. 



Then we b^gan to look around us a little. In front, as 

 I have stated, came the river. Rising from its opposite 

 bank was a cliff of dull and many-hued rock, so high that 

 it seemed to overhang the whole valley. Behind us, the 

 meadow stretched in a semi-circle from the river, above 

 the bridge, around the base of the mountains to a point 

 half a mile below, where the mountain crowded it into 

 the stream again. Near our tent were two pine trees, so 

 nearly alike that some one, looking at a photograph of 

 them, said we had jarred the camera and taken the tree 

 in duplicate. Along the margin of the stream, further 

 down, was a thicket, within which was our canvas bath- 

 room. The old stage road ran through the center of the 

 meadow. Some fallen trees near by furnished an abun- 

 dance of fire wood. Some dead trees out there gave a 

 weird appearance as the twilight stole over the scene. 



There wa3 a sawmill up in the mountains and we soon 

 made arrangements for some boards, with which we 

 built a " summer kitchen " to the tent. It consisted of a 

 frame work supporting a roof ; two sides of the frame 

 were boarded half way up, and upon them were other 

 boards placed flatwise, forming two tables. The third 

 side, as well as the upper parts of the other two sides, 

 were made of canvas, arranged so as to let down at night 

 or in rainy weather, and left open in the day time or in 

 pleasant weather. The stove stood in one corner, the 

 pipe going through a hole in the roof, and held fireproof 

 with a sheet of tin with a hole through it the size of the 

 pipe. Shelves were made just under the roof. Henry's 

 steamer trunk was placed on edge and served admirably 

 for a cupboard. A hammock was swung between two 

 stumps outside. When it rained, or at night when it was 

 cold, our tent and kitchen were made almost uncomfort- 

 ably warm by our brave little stove, even though water, 

 left standing outside, froze over. And many an evening 

 we sat beside it, with our candles gaily sputtering, while 

 we read aloud. It seems to me that whatever happens, 

 I shall never forget those evenings in our tent before our 

 fierce little fire, when we read "Lorna Doone" together. 



When we were settled comfortably, we went a fishing. 

 Down through the meadow, where" the wooded slope of 

 the mountain and the stage road came together to the 

 bank of the river, we jointed our rods, and my husband 

 began to teach me to fish with the fly. But I soon noticed 

 that he grew abstracted and seemed to take on the rather 

 dual nature and deportment of a man seeking to do his 

 duty by his ignorant family, and a man after fish. Grad- 

 ually the latter man predominated. He became intensly 

 alive to every eddy and whirl of the river and intensely 

 dead to me. The flies at the end of bis leader circled 

 about his head and rode off on the waves, not so much 

 in response to any physical force as to the mesmeric spell 

 cast over them by the dreamy motions of his rod. Once 

 the water gave an unusual gulp in a still place under a 



rock, and I could see that my husband's attitude became 

 more spellbound. The enslaved and obedient flies took 

 wing, circled far back over our heads and then dropped 

 on the dry rock. And then, whether from the sag of the 

 line or the spell they were under, they began to move 

 down into the water, and, in an instant, had fallen into 

 the placid pool as gently asasnowflake touches the earth. 

 There was another gulp, a quick motion, and the line 

 straightened far out into the river, the rod curved into 

 the segment of a circle, the point dipping toward the 

 water in quick, successive jerks. 



For the time being I had lost my husband. 



"Now, Elizabeth," he said, when the brief struggle was 

 ended, "you must catch one." Noble, ingenuous Henry! 



The flies had a strong tendency to climb trees, but, 

 when they did fall into the water, it was amusing to see 

 them float quickly past me, in their bedraggled holiday 

 dresses. And all of a sudden. I know not how, the water 

 gurgled and startled me and I raised my hand, and some- 

 thing began to invite me, by means of a rapid series of 

 pulls, to come out and ride on the dancing waves. But 

 my husband ! 



" Gad Zooks !" (from Lorna Doone) "you've got him. 

 Don't let him get away. Let it go. Keep it stretched 

 tight. I'll turn the reel for you. Not too hard. Whew! 

 He's coming, and he's no slouch of a trout either. Good 

 for you ! " And the fish was landed. 



I grieve to say that at some past time,some evil-minded 

 person has taught my husband an undignified and exag- 

 gerated movement from the ballet ; and he executed it 

 at that time in all its wicked ab mdon. 



Mr. Franklyn had very good horses and we took many 

 rides and drives up and down the stage road. This road 

 is an especially attractive feature of the place. Below 

 the Gap, where the mountains are close to the river, it 

 extends along their slopes, now descending to the bank 

 of the rocky stream, now making its rugged way up its 

 heavily wooded sides, or winding through some thicket 

 of quaking asp. Above the Gap, the mountains gener- 

 ously stand aside and make room for miles and miles of 

 level grass land, through which the river seems to have 

 taken its own course-. Here and there tributary runs and 

 rivulets come down through the gorges. Away off to the 

 west are snow-covered mountains. We drove up there 

 once as far as the Devil's Gate, two huge buttresses of 

 rock on either side of one of these gorges. There was* a 

 large camping party near there from one of the prairie 

 States. They had their tents arranged in streets, em- 

 ployed three cooks, a teamster and stenographer, which 

 latter personage, we understood, was kept busy writing 

 fish stories back to Kansas. When we were eating our 

 luncheon beside a limpid brook that came down from the 

 mountains, we heard voices at intervals above us ; and 

 presently two ladies from the camp came down with 

 some raspberries. Part of our luncheon that day con- 

 sisted of two jam tarts, baked by Henry for the occasion, 

 that deserve to go down in history. When they had 

 been eaten, and while my husband meditatively smoked 

 his cigar, he said that tw r o deep and enduring red marks 

 had been made in the calendars of our lives by the sim- 

 ple agency of those tarts, and that, hereafter, nothing 

 would so touch his stern and manly nature as the tender 

 thoughtfulness that might suggest tarts of like material 

 and workmanship for birthdays and Fourth of July's. 

 That his suggestion for an emblem of domestic happiness 

 would be a bronze statue of a women of otherwise aver- 

 age capability holding out a jam tart to an appreciative 

 and intelligent family. 



[TO be concluded.] 



ANGOSTURA.-1II. . 



MY scramble in the mountains gave me a good appetite 

 for sleep, but as my blood was up for a deer I left 

 my watch and matches handy. One le?son more than all 

 others has been impressed on me in my deer-hunting ex- 

 perience, and that is the necessity of getting oat in the 

 early morning. A late and rather heavy supper facili- 

 tated my waking, and I was a little ashamed to find I 

 had disturbed Don Ramon by scraping a match at 3 

 o'clock. He smiled indulgently at my eagerness, smoked 

 a cigarette and was off again. So was I, but at 5 I woke 

 "for good." Don Luis slumbered on peacefully in the 

 next room. He can have a deer hunt when he feels like 

 it, but such occasions are not every day affairs with me. 

 Still I didn't feel quite like getting up and striking out 

 alone, and so waited as patiently as I could. Nobody 

 else was in a hurry, however. We had our breakfast 

 leisurely and rolled away in the coach about 8 o'clock for 

 a hunt in the cedar and cypress grove. In less than half 

 an hour all left the coach in a beautiful park-like open- 

 ing and started out four guns strong, each man followed 

 by a servant and guide. Don Ramon doesn't like to 

 walk. A little tramp the day before had laid him up, 

 and he and Mrs. E. were going riding. The fourth rifle 

 was a dangerous-looking muzzleloader in the hands of 

 Don Apolinario, a sort of Fidus Achates of Don Luis. 



It looked to me like flying in the face of probability to 

 expect to find deer afoot at that hour of the day, so I gave 

 my rifle to my man and took my shotgun to be prepared 

 for turkey. I had in one barrel a load of the heaviest 

 buckshot I could obtain, but as they chambered five in a 

 12-gauge chokebore I didn't consider them very danger- 

 ous for deer. We had scarcely separated when I heard 

 four shots in the direction of my companions. As proved 

 afterward they were scarcely out of sight of the coach 

 when the sharp eyes of Don Apolinario discovered two 

 deer lying almost hidden in the grass. Giving Don Luis 

 the shot the latter failed to score, but as the deer started 

 in different directions each one took a running shot. One 

 of them, a rather large spike buck, went by Dr. E. on 

 the jump, and by a luck snap shot from his Colt's carbine 

 he downed it. He had never before seen a wild deer. It 

 proved to have been hard hit by one of the previous shots, 

 Don Luis's final, probably. I stood waiting during this 

 fusilade, ready to intercept whatever came my way, but 

 nothing came. Presently my man and I went on. We 

 had made our way through the dense thickets and across 

 lovely glades for about fifteen minutes, when as I turned 

 a corner in a path there stood a handsome doe not more 

 than thirty steps from me. We were put in communi- 

 cation by an invisible electricity; I stopped, she started. 

 But I couldn't resist the temptation as she bounded from 

 the path to let drive through the low-hanging cedar 

 boughs, and down she went in a heap. But on the in- 

 stant she was up, and waving her white flag defiantly 

 dashed away. I consoled myself that she wasn't much 

 hurt,, or that flag wouldn't have floated so gaily. It was 



