386 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 5, 1890. 



pened by being surrounded by wolves, but what might have hap- 

 pened if I had not got among the bears." 



This hollow tree and bear story may not be so ancient 

 by several hundred years as the hollow tree and spider 

 story, but it is of a respectable antiquity, as we shall 

 show. 



In an interesting account of a canoe trip through the 

 Miramichi wilderness of New Brunswick, published in 

 Forest and Stream of May 31, 1888, Mr. Arthur P. 

 Silver tells this story as related one night by his Micinac 

 guide Joe: 



An Indian was chased by an infuriated she bear, whose cub he. 

 had robbed. His only refuge was a hollow tree, down which he 

 lowered himself with his captive. The old bear descended bear 

 fashion, tail first. The Indian seized her by the stumpy tail, 

 whereupon he was drawn to the top, and giving the bear a thrust 

 off, remained at the summit of the stump master of the situation. 



But long before this version, from the Canadian wilds, 

 another variant, from Georgia, had been published in our 

 columns. In the issue of this journal of July 25, 1878, 

 was the following narration, which had been read before 

 the Georgia Historical Society by Capt. W. W. Paine: 



Morgan Gillis was a hunter of some renown, and a bold and 

 powerful man. One day, hunting in the piny woods, he killed a 

 fine buck, and while engaged in skinning it he discovered several 

 Indians creeping toward him. There was no time to deliberate or 

 to tarry. Springing to his feet and leaving rifle and venison 

 behind, he ran for life and reached the swamp, where he noticed 

 a large poplar Avhich had been broken off near its top and had the 

 appearance of being hollow. A knarled or knagged hickory which 

 rested against this enabled him to easily climb the tree, when, to 

 his great joy, he found it hollow, with an opening in the top suffi- 

 cient for him to enter. He entered it, and sliding to the bottomi 

 found it tenanted by two fat cubs, and at once discovered that he 

 was in the den of a bear, which, fortunately for trim, was not at 

 home. About three feet from the bottom of the den was a small 

 knot-hole, from which Gillis saw the Indians approaching, and 

 who seemed much puzzled at not finding him. 



After hunting around, the Indians disappeared, supposing that 

 Gillis had escaped to the river. Waiting some time, and the 

 Indians not reappearing, Gillis thought it time to leave his hiding 

 place, and, attempting to do so, found to his dismay that be could 

 not climb out, and that he was entombed within the wooden walls 

 of a tree. Our friend was not the first man, nor the last, who had 

 gotten, into a scrape and found it difficult to get out. Gillis could 

 not perish with hunger for some days, for he could eat the cubs; 

 but he might perish for water. Having his large hunting knife 

 with him, be commenced trying to cut his way out of the hollow, 

 and while thus engaged he heard, as he supposed, some one climh- 

 ing on the outside of the tree. He thought of the Indians, and 

 gave himself up as lost. Soon the aperture at the top of the tree 

 was darkened, and an object commenced descending, and, horror 

 of horrors! it was the old bear. Bears always descend a tree 

 hack ward— and as Mrs. Bruin neared the bottom Gillis, in terror, 

 commenced using his knife vigorously on her, and she, not ex- 

 pecting such a warm reception in her quarters, hastily ascended, 

 and Gillis, taking advantage of her discomfiture and hasty re- 

 treat, seized hold of her shaggy hair and was drawn to the top. 

 He escaped and reached home in safety, a wiser if not a better 

 man. 



Reading this, at the time, a correspondent wrote that 

 the story of the man and the bear in the hollow tree was 

 an old one, and had been printed years before in a school 

 reader. Not long ago we came across this old school 

 book. It is "The Reader's Guide, by John Hall, Prin- 

 cipal of the Ellington School," and was printed at Hart- 

 ford, Conn., in 1836. Mr. Hall gathered into his "Guide" 

 for the delectation of the tender Connecticut mind a 

 jumble of "Lessons for Practice," comprising divers ex- 

 amples of literature, ranging from sermons to bear 

 stories. Among other things is a poem called "Recollec- 

 tions of Childhood," credited to an "English paper," and 

 so like Woodworth's "Old Oaken Bucket," that one of 

 them must have been a plagiarism from the other. Here, 

 sandwiched in between a sentimental composition en- 

 titled "Melancholy Moments," by Miss Mary E. Jackson, 

 and a moral tale of "Temper," by Mrs. Opie, is the 

 "Story of a Hunter." It is credited to a "Scrap Book," 

 and it must then first have been printed prior to 1836. 

 The "Scrap Book" writer gives the narration as having 

 come "from a friend who actually heard it related by a 

 person in the manner herein described." The original 

 narrator put the date of the occurrence at "about thirty- 

 five years ago," so the actual date must have been some- 

 where around 1800. It was winter, and the young 

 pioneer was out for venison, having tramped five or six 

 miles from home without seeing any meat. What hap- 

 pened to him is thus told with the circumstantiality and 

 detail which characterize veracious bear stories the world 

 over: 



At length I arrived at a large cedar swamp, on the edge of 

 which I was struck by the singular appearance of a large stub, 25 

 or 30ft. high, v.ith its bark off. Prom its scratched surface I had 

 no doubt it was climbed by raccoons or martins, which probably 

 had also a den in it, as from its appearance I judged it was hollow. 

 The stub at its base might have been 7 or 8ft. through, but 8 or 

 10ft. higher up its size was much diminished, so that I could grasp 

 sufficiently to ascend it and ascertain what was within. My gun 

 and great coat were deposited in a secure place, and being an 

 expert climber I soon gained the top. As I anticipated, the stub 

 was hollow, the aperture being about 2%£ t. in diameter. The day, 

 you will observe, was dark and cloudy, and looking down the 

 hollow I fancied that I could see the bottom at no great distance, 

 hut having nothing to put in to ascertain its depth I concluded 

 that I would try to touch bottom with my feet. I therefore placed 

 myself in the hole and lowered myself gradually, expecting every 

 moment that my foot would come in contact, with some animal or 

 the foot of the hollow; but feeling nothing I unthinkingly con- 

 tinued letting myself down until my head and hands and whole 

 person were completely within the center of the stub. 



At this moment a sudden and strange fear came over me; I 

 know not from what cause, for I am not naturally timid— it 



seemed to affect me with a sense of suffocation, such as is experi- 

 enced in dreams under the effect of night-mare. Rendered des- 

 perale by my feeling, I made a violent attempt to extricate my- 

 self , when the edges of the wood to which I was holding treacher- 

 ously gave way, and precipitated me to the bottom of the hole, 

 which I found extended to a level with the ground. I cannot 

 wholly account for it, but probahly from the erect position in 

 which my body was necessarily kept in so narrow a tube, and my 

 landing on my feet on a hed of moss, dried leaves and other soft 

 substances, I sustained little or no injury from so great a fall; nor 

 were my clothes but little deranged in my descent, owing, proba- 

 hly, to the smoothness of the surface produced by the long and 

 frequent passing of the animals to and from their den— for a. den 

 I found it to he. 



After recovering from my fright I had time to examine the in- 

 terior. All was dark; and putting out my hands to feel my way, 

 they came in contact with the cold nose and then the fur of some 

 beast which I immediately knew was a half-grown cub or young 

 bear. Continuing to examine, I ascertained that there were three 

 or four of these animals, which, aroused by the noise made in my 

 descent, came around and smelt of me, uttering a mourning 

 noise, taking me at first, no doubt, for their dam; but after a little 

 examination, snuffing and snorting as if alarmed, they quietly 

 betook themselves to their couch on the moss, and left me to my 

 gloomy reflections. I knew they were too young to do me any in- 

 jury, but with that knowledge came the dreadful certainty that 

 the mother, whose premises I had so heedlessly invaded, was 

 quite a different personage, and that my life would date hut a 

 short period after she arrived, as arrive she certainly would be- 

 fore many hours could pass over my head. 



The interior of the den grew more visible after my eyes hecame 

 accustomed to the darkness; ani aided by a little light from the 

 top, I discovered that the den was circular, and on the ground 

 was 5 or 6ft. in diameter, its circumference diminishing at the 

 height of 7 or 8ft. to a diameter of less than 3ft., owing to the 

 singular formation of the trunk, as I have before remarked. All 

 my attempts to reach the narrow part of the hollow, in the hopes 

 of working my way out, as a chimney sweep might have done, 

 were fruitless. My escape in this way, therefore, was impossible. 

 To cut through the trunk a hole, sufficient to let out my body, 

 with a small pocket knife, the only one I had, would have been 

 the work of weeks and even months, as from the examinations 

 which I made of both the exterior aud interior, T knew that it 

 could not be less than a foot thick. The knife was the only 

 weapon which I possessed, and a hug of my tremendous adversary 

 would deprive me of the power to use even so contemptible an 

 implement, and even if I succeeded in killing the hear— which 

 was not to he expected— my case was equally hopeless, for I 

 should only exchange a sudden death for one, if possible, even 

 more horrid, a lingering one of famine and thirst, for my tracks 

 in the snow I knew were long since covered by the drift, and there 

 was no possibility of my friends finding me by searching in a 

 wilderness of many miles in circuit. 



My situation was indeed hopeless and desperate. As the shades 

 of evening were now fast approaching, I thought of my cheerful 

 home; my wife seated by the fire with our child in her arms, or 

 preparing our evening meal, looking out anxiously from time to 

 time, expecting my return. These and many more such thoughts 

 rushed through my mind, and which way soever they were turned 

 you may suppose they were teeming with horror. At one time I 

 nearly determined to wreak my feeling upon the cubs hy destroy- 

 ing them, hut. the wanton and useless cruelty of the act, as they 

 could be of no service to me then, prevented me. Oh! you know 

 not how merciful one is when he feels that he himself would wil- 

 lingly be an object of mercy from others. 



Two hours had probably elapsed, and to me two of the longest 

 that I ever experienced, when suddenly the little light which had 

 illuminated me from above was gone. I looked up. and could no 

 longer see the sky. My ears, which at the time were peculiarly 

 sensitive, were assailed with a low growling noise, such as a 

 bear makes on discovering an enemy and preparing for an attack. 

 I thought that my fate was at hand, as this was the mother de- 

 scending to her cubs, having by her acute organs of smell discov- 

 ered that her den had been entered by some enemy. From the 

 time I had ascertained my true situation I had opened my knife 

 and held it ready in hand for the encounter, come when it would. 

 I now, therefore, braced myself for a grapple with my terrible 

 antagonist, feverishly awaiting her descent. 



Bears always descend in the same manner as they ascend trees; 

 that is, the head is always upward; consequently her most assail- 

 able, or rather least formidable part was opposed to me. A 

 thought quick as lightning rushed through my mind that escape 

 was possible and that the bear might be the means. No time 

 could be afforded, nor was necessary for deliberation. 



Just as she reached that part where the hollow widened and 

 where by a jump I could reach her, I made a desperate spring and 

 with both hands firmly caught hold of the fur which covered her 

 extremities, giving at the same time a scream, which, in this close 

 den sounded a thousand times louder than any human voice in 

 the open air. The bear, and she was a powerful one, taken by 

 surprise, and unable to get at me, frightened, too, at the hideous 

 and appalling noise which I made, scrambled for life up the hol- 

 low. But my weight, I found, was an impediment to her; for when 

 about half way up, I perceived that she began to lag,;and notwith- 

 standing I continued to Bcream, at length came to a dead stand' 

 apparently not having strength enough to proceed. Knowing 

 that my life depended on her going on, I instantly let go with the 

 hand in which I had my knife, driving it to the haft into her flesh, 

 and redoubled the noise which I had already made. Her pains 

 and fears gave her strength, and by another effort she brought 

 me once more to the light of day, at the top of the stub; nor did 

 she stop there, to receive my thanks for the benefit which she had 

 conferred on me; hut hastily descended to the ground, and made 

 her way with all speed to the swamp. I sat for some time on the 

 stub, out of breath, and hardly crediting the reality of my escape. 

 After giving thanks to that Providence which had so wonder- 

 fully preserved me, I descended to the ground, found my hat and 

 gun where I had left them, and reached home after a fatiguing 

 walk through the woods, about nine o'clock in the evening. 



The teller of that story told it with a prolixity and a 

 regard for detail which indicate that he intended it to be 

 believed; and no doubt it was implicitely accepted as 

 true by the scholars of the Nutmeg State, who, thanks to 

 the thoughtfulness of Schoolmaster Hall, were nurtured 

 on the bear-story brand of literary pabulum. It is the 

 earliest American version of the tale we have traced; but 

 in going back thus a hundred years little progress has 

 been made toward the original story of the man and the 

 bear in the hollow tree. When and where the tale was 

 first told cannot be surmised; but there is an ancient 

 variant of it which dates back to a period when it is cer- 



tain that while there were hollow tree stubs by the score 

 and bears galore, there was not in all the unbroken for- 

 est of this North American continent a single white man 

 to fall into the one or to be pulled out by the other. 

 While Cortez was conquering Mexico, there dwelt at 

 Lake Como in Italy a certain Bishop Paulus Jovius, w ho, 

 from all accounts, were he living in these days, would be 

 an excel] ent type of the "true sportsman." Pie was 

 catholic in his tastes, a great lover of nature, and one 

 who believed in getting his share of all the good things 

 there were in life for a man in the years from 1473 to 

 1550. His chief literary labors were the writing of eulo- 

 gistic biographies of the great men of the time, who sent 

 their portraits to adorn his elegant home. But he did not 

 disdain to lighten his books with an occasional anecdote; 

 and his writings prove him to have been a gentleman, a 

 scholar and a good judge of bear stories. And here, told 

 by Paulus Jovius three hundred years and more ago, we 

 find a tale given him by one Demetrius, an ambassador 

 to Rome, which is decidedly the best, because briefest, 

 wittiest and quaintest of all the stories of the man in the 

 hollow tree. It was translated from the original Latin 

 by a writer of the last century thus : 



A neighbor of mine, searching in the woods for honey, slip- 

 ped down into a great hollow tree and there sunk into a lake 

 of honey up to the breast, where, when he had stuck fast two 

 days, calling and crying out in vain for help (because nobody 

 in the meanwhile came nigh that solitary place)— at length, when 

 he was out of all hope of life— he was strangely delivered hy 

 means of a great bear, which, coming thither about the same 

 business that he did, and smelling the honey (stirred with his 

 strivlug), clambered up to the top of the tree and then began to 

 let himself down backward into it. The man, hethinking himself, 

 and knowing that the worst was but death (which in that place 

 he was sure of), beclipt the bear fast with both his hands about the 

 loins, and withal made an outcry as loud as he could. The bear, 

 'heing thus suddenly affrighted (what with the handling and the 

 noise), made up again with all speed possible; the man held aud 

 the hear pulled, until with main force he had drawn Dun out >>f 

 the mire. And then, being let go, away he trots, more af eared 

 than hurt, leaving the smeared swain in a joyful fear. 



FOREST INTERESTS AND DISCUSSION. 



IT seems to me that very few people in this country 

 have an adequate idea of the value of popular dis- 

 cussion, or of its necessity under the conditions of life in 

 a democracy. For many years I have observed the work 

 and methods of men who wish to have various things 

 done by the Legislatures of some of the States, New York 

 and others. Most of them appear to depend almost 

 wholly upon direct effort to "influence the Legislature" 

 after it has assembled. Some one stays at the capital of 

 the State during the session and talks to the members, 

 endeavoring to obtain their support. Sometimes a few 

 petitions are presented, and usually there are articles in 

 the leading newspapers in advocacy of the measure pro- 

 posed. Most members of State Legislatures whom I have 

 known have a courteous manner of promising to give 

 careful consideration to any matter which is urged upon 

 their attention. Soon after the opening of the session 

 nearly all the agents at the capital make favorable re- 

 ports to their principals regarding the prospects of the 

 various measures which they have in charge. It is 

 natural that they should do so. Most of us probably over- 

 estimated our influence, and consent is taken for granted 

 because a man listens to us with apparent interest. (The 

 gentlemen who go to the capital to promote the measures 

 which we favor are agents, or attorneys, and are excellent 

 men; the bad men, who represent those who oppose uai 

 are lobbyists, and they are, as is well known, "indescriba- 

 bly corrupt." This is the popular phraseology, but 

 means very little.) 



A hearing before a Legislative committee is a real op- 

 portunity for those who know how to improve it. Th 

 chance is often thrown away because men do not "spea 

 to the question," do not put the essential matter clearl 

 before the committee, with the chief reasons for th 

 action desired, but insist on being eloquent, and wish 

 display their own superior ability. After each hearin 

 before a committee the reports of the agents to the 

 principals are apt to become increasingly favorable. 



But "there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip 

 and, strange to say, the bill which we were so sure of 

 does not pass, does not come anywhere near passing, and, 

 as we can see now, never had the slightest chance of suc- 

 cess. When a bill for some worthy public object fails it 

 is common to denounce the members of the Legislatur 

 I have often heard insinuations and direct accusations ol 

 corrupt action, when I knew — and any one might have 

 known — that the mass and great majority of the peopl 

 of the State had never heard of the proposed measur 

 and that no attempt had been made to bring the matt 

 before them for their consideration. Such effort as ha .. 

 been made in behalf of the object in view had been mostly; 

 upon wrong lines — if any action was desired — and upor 

 any lines it would have been ridiculously inadequate 

 The friends of the poor still-born bill are surprised at i 

 failure, but in truth any other result would have bee 

 most astonishing, entirely unaccountable, indeed, on th 

 basis of the facts of the case. In such cases a bill befo 

 the Legislature has no vital relation to popular intel 

 gence or sentiment. Even though its purpose may be 

 good one, there is no real demand for it. 



I suppose that the members of the Legislature of anj 

 State represent the majority of the people fairly well 

 and that the average intelligence and honesty and othe 

 good qualities usually get themselves expressed in legi 

 lative action. It is most idle to assume that the chosei 

 representatives of the people are not as good and hones 

 as intelligent and as much civilized as the average 

 their constituents. 



When I urge a member of the Legislature to support 

 measure which I am trying to promote, he rightly hea 

 me courteously, and then he rightly listens for the voi 



