126 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept. 4, 1890. 



SLIDE ROCK FROM MANY MOUNTAINS. 



A NIGHT IN THE FOREST. 



SO far, our search for sheep had. been unsuccessful. 

 We had seen plenty to be sure, but all of thein had 

 been ewes and all had been in such situations that it was 

 useless to attempt to approach them. We were camped 

 on the mountain side, a thousand feet above the stream 

 bottom, a spot which had only been reached by great 

 effort on the part of the panting pack-horses, and, so far 

 as we then knew, at the highest point on the mountain 

 where there was water. 



Our bad luck in the matter of game had affected the 

 spirits of all the party; some were merely disgusted, 

 while the older hunters were ashamed to have been out 

 for four or five days without having killed anything 

 larger than a blue grouse. The Rhymer had given vent 

 to his feelings of discouragement and dissatisfaction in a 

 ■crap of verse, which I give below: 



A weary lot is thine, *my friend, 



A weary lot is thine; 

 To climb up hills that never end, 



To hunt in vain for "sign." 

 A shadow of elusive trail, 



A spot where game once stepped, 

 Rouse hopes whose basis is as frail 



As to find where a bear has slept. 

 To miss a sheep before he leap. 



To miss him after, too, 

 To stumble on the hillside steep, 



And curse your failing shoe. 

 All this, I wis, is hardly bliss, 



So let us hope some day 

 Our trusty guns no shot shall miss, 



Our legs no tricks shall play, 

 But lightly down from mountain crown 



Will carry off our prey. 



On the day following our arrival at this camp, the 

 Rhymer, Dick and Yo had started out to climb higher on 

 the mountain to see whether the camp could not be 

 moved up to timber line, to the base of the high rocky 

 peaks, among which it was suspected that the big rams 

 lived. They started on horseback, but when they had 

 tugged up 3,000ft. more of the steep ascent, the animals 

 were tied up to some great pines on a level grassy spot, 

 the men changed their heavy shoes for their moccasins, 

 placing the former, soles up, under a tree where they 

 would be protected in case of rain. Then they proceeded 

 on foot, following a game trail which led along a narrow 

 ridge. On the right, this ridge dropped off almost ver- 

 tically toward a deep ravine, the steep rock slope being 

 thickly clad with slender pines standing so close together 

 that a horse could not force his way among them; to the 

 left, a grassy slope ran down to thickets of quaking aspen 

 which grew near the summit of a series of rock ledges 

 that dropped down to the valley of the stream above 

 which we were camped. 



The men walked on briskly, noticing as they passed 

 along abundant old deer and sheep sign, a few fresh 

 tracks showing that sheep had been here within a day or 

 two, and, in the edge of the timber, many young pines 

 partly stripped of their bark, where the buck deer, as 

 their horns were hardening, had rubbed them against the 

 tree trunks to get rid of the velvet. Beyond the narrow 

 ridge the trail led over a rock slide, and. always ascend- 

 ing, at length reached a nearly level plateau. Here the 

 green trees stood thick in some places, in others far apart, 

 but there was no undergrowth, and but few fallen trees; 

 the ground was softly green, covered with dwarf huckle- 

 berries which stood three or four inches high. One could 

 eee on all sides through the trees for 50 or 100yds.,and 

 altogether the place was an ideal ground for deer. A 

 hunter could go along as noiselessly as a ghoBt. Here 

 and there were little open marshy spots with coarse grass 

 and peavine, and sometimes a little water. 



For a mile or two the men went on through this timber. 

 Now and then they started some grouse, which were feed- 

 ing on the last of the huckleberries, but they were looking 

 for larger game and paid no attention to the birds. No 

 fresh deer tracks were seen, and at length the Rhymer 

 determined to go back and hunt among the aspens and 

 along the rough ledges on the creek^where the camp was, 

 while the others decided to push on and see if a way 

 could be found to the bare snow-covered rocks ahead of 

 them, of which glimpses could now and then be had 

 through the openings in the timber. 



After they had parted, the Rhymer hunted all day 

 and at night came to camp without having seen any- 

 thing. The others after a little ceased their hunting, and 

 traveled at a good rate through the timber toward the 

 snow-clad peaks which seemed constantly to draw nearer. 

 At first they had intended to go only a little way toward 

 these peaks, just far enough to get some notion of their 

 accessibility, but they were constantly lured further and 

 further on by the nearneBS of their goal, and at length, 

 about three o'clock, they emerged from the timber in a 

 little open valley traversed by a tiny brook, and found 

 themselves within 500yds. of the foot of the rocks. Their 

 first glance into this valley showed that it was a good 

 camping place, their second that some one had camped 

 there before. In the meadow there was standing a picket 

 pin, beyond, a dead tree had been chopped in two, and a 

 little further on, behind a clump of pines, were the ashes 

 of a fire, and a place where three men had slept. A litt le 

 investigation showed that there was abundant feed for 

 the animals with the other needed accessories of a camp, 

 wood and water in plenty. 



It was now three o'clock, and it seemed very doubtful 

 if, in the remaining two hours of daylight, they could 

 return to the camp which they had left at 8 o'clock that 

 morning. Hurrying toward camp they passed swiftly 

 through the living forest. Soon after they had started 

 back the sky became obscured by clouds and it began to 

 snow. The high rocks which they had just left were at 

 their backs, and for a short time the occasional glimpses 

 that they had of these peaks served to thow them their 

 direction. As the forest grew dense and the snow fell 

 more thickly even these landmarks were hidden, and 

 they traveled merely by their sense of direction. At 

 length night began to approach. They saw in the dim 

 forest which they were traversing nothing that was fa- 

 miliar; the falling snow had destroyed landmarks: even | 



the sense of direction became vague, and eaeh of the men 

 had a different notion of the points of the compass and 

 the position of the camp. Just before dusk they came 

 out on a ridge whence could be had a clear view of some 

 mountains across a deep but narrow valley. They were 

 totally unrecognized, and the conclusion forced itself on 

 the unwilling minds of both men that they were lost — in 

 other words, that they had mistaken the ridge on their 

 way to camp and did now know where they were. 



There was no difficulty about reaching the camp. That 

 could be done readily enough by following: the water 

 down to the main stream, and then following that until 

 they should come to the trail, made a few days before by 

 their own pack train. This they could of course follow 

 to camp. It was rather mortifying to the two men, each 

 of whom had spent more than twenty years in the moun- 

 tains, to find that they had missed their way; and yet it 

 was not unnatural. There were neither tracks nor trail 

 to follow, and with neither landmarks nor sun to guide 

 them, they had gone off too much either to the right 

 or to the left and had lost the track. Let any man 

 have his eyes bandaged and try to walk straight across a 

 room and see how near he comes to doing it; and then 

 let him imagine how far he would diverge from his 

 course if the room were six or eight miles across. 



Turning back into the forest, the men tried to retrace 

 their steps so as to get back on to the ridge from which 

 they had wandered , but it was too late in the day to do 

 this. The snow still fell, it was cold and growing dark. 

 A halt was now called, a level spot, sheltered by a clump 

 of great spruces, was chosen as a camp ground, and a 

 short time was devoted to gathering a great pile of wood 

 for the night. Then a fire was built, and the men lit 

 their pipes in lieu of supper, and prepared to make the 

 best of an uncomfortable night. For two or three hours 

 they smoked and talked by the fire, and then as they 

 grew sleepy they stretched themselves on the ground, 

 partly dried by the warmth of the fire, and dropped off 

 to sleep. The wind still howled through the trees, and 

 the gusts occasionally sent thick clouds of snow whirling 

 under the low branches of the spruces. Sometimes it 

 whitened for a moment the prostrate forms of the sleep- 

 ers, and then quickly melted off in the heat of the fire. 

 Neither howling wind nor drifting snow disturbed the 

 tired sleepers, so long as the fire burned brightly, and the 

 bed of pine needles, with which the ground was thickly 

 strewn, seemed as soft to them as the most luxurious 

 couch. It was only when the fire burned down and the 

 air grew chilly that their sleep became troubled. 



But little real rest can be had by one who depends for 

 warmth solely on the fire by which he lies. Hardly has 

 he fairly begun to slumber when the fire begins to burn 

 itself out, and as soon as it has died down the sleeper be- 

 comes cold. At first he shivers in his sleep, and gradu- 

 ally as he grows colder consciousness returns, and he feels 

 that he ought to rise and make up the fire. If he has a 

 comrade, he suffers for a while in silence, pretending that 

 he is asleep, in the hope that the cold will oblige his part- 

 ner to get up and perform this disagreeable duty; but at 

 length in desperation, being no longer able to endure the 

 cold, he springs to his feet, builds the fire, fills his pipe 

 and smokes for a few moments, and then, thoroughly 

 warmed, lies down again to catch another nap of an 

 hour. 



In this way the night was spent by Dick and Yo. 

 About 4 o'clock the latter rose, and, lighting his pipe, sat 

 by the fire waiting for dawn in order to assure himself of 

 the points of the compass. The sky was still overcast and 

 the snow still fell, but it was almost certain that for a 

 few moments,, just as the sun rose, the east would be 

 noticeably brighter than any other part of the heavens. 

 And so it was. Gradually as day approached a faint 

 gray Jight seemed to fill the forest; objects which a little 

 while before had been swallowed up in the blackness 

 which enveloped everything away from the fire became 

 visible, at first dimly, then more clearly. Yo rose and 

 walking some distance away from the fire watched the 

 sky, and presently the brighter light he looked for was 

 seen, and he knew where the east was. 



The campers were not delayed that morning by any 

 preparations for breakfast. They took a draught of 

 water from a little spring hole near their camp, washed 

 their hands and faces, and again set out for camp. They 

 were not very hopeful of getting to it by the mountain 

 path, for, unless the sky should clear and the sun come 

 out, it was entirely probable that as soon as they got into 

 the thick timber again they would lose their way. Still 

 they determined to try it again. Just after they had 

 started they came upon a brood of grouse which scattered 

 and flew into the trees. After a little looking Dick saw 

 one and Yo passed him the rifle, so that he might kill it 

 and they might have breakfast. Dick fired, but the gun 

 was strange to him and he missed, and then breakfast 

 flew away. 



They pushed on. By 9 o'clock the snow had changed 

 to rain, which fell with ever-increasing violence; by 10 

 the men were drenched and cold, and disposed to be 

 cross. As they were going along through some thick 

 down timber near the edge of a ravine, there came to 

 them, apparently out of the hollow at their feet and 

 seemingly quite close to them, a rifle shot. It was 

 evident that the Rhymer was out looking for them. 

 They fired an answering shot, heard another and fainter 

 one, which they answered, and then another sounded a 

 long way off. After that they got no reply to their sig- 

 nals. It was now proposed by Yo that they should go 

 to camp. "It is no use, Dick," said he, "for us to go 

 wandering about in this timber any longer. No doubt 

 we would get to camp finally, but it may take us a day 

 or two. Let us go down now to the creek and follow 

 that till we strike the trail leading to camp. I am getting 

 mighty hungry." 



No sooner said than done. The men pitched down into 

 the ravine, and, taking the deer trails which led along the 

 hillsides, found an easy way down to the main stream. 

 Following this down for a couple of miles they came upon 

 the trail made by a pack train, and then climbing a 

 thousand feet up the mountain side they walked into 

 camp, to the great astonishment of Batiste and Johnnie. 



After a hearty meal they stretched themselves out by 

 the fire, and there Rhymer found them, when an hour or 

 two later he came into oamp, and told them the story of 

 his search for them. 



The next day was spent in blazing a trail toward the 

 peaks already visited by the "Babes m the Woods," and in 

 making a cache of a lot of superfluous things with which 

 it was unnecessary to burden themselves during the climb. 



The day after the whole camp started for the heights. 

 On the way the Rhymer made great havoc in a flock of 

 Franklin grouse, which were met with along the trail, 

 and Yo managed to clip the heads off two or three of these 

 and of some dusky grouse. 



It was perhaps four o'clock, and the sun had fallen 

 behind the peaks, when camp was made close under the 

 foot of a great moraine, and just above the old camp dis- 

 covered on the previous visit. After the loads were off 

 and the tents up, the Rhymer, Dick, and Yo took their 

 rifles and walked up to look at the rocks. The first named 

 turned off just above camp to the right, while Dick and 

 Yo went to the left. They had gone perhaps some yards 

 from camp, when, just as they were approaching the crest 

 of a little tamarack-crowned ridge, Yo saw in the sag 

 beyond him a sheep, walking away. He at once dropped 

 to the ground, and in a suppressed voice implored Dick to 

 do the same. The latter, who had not seen the sheep, did 

 so, and they watched the animal. It was only 50yd?. 

 distant, but as it was walking directly from them', Yo did 

 not fire because he feared to spoil a ham of meat by shoot- 

 ing through it. Presently the animal disappeared over 

 the next crest, and they hurried after it. As they rose 

 up over the hill the sheep saw them, and stopp : ng stood 

 broadside on looking at them. Yo raised his rifle, took a 

 quiet aim and fired, and the fat ewe fell. In a moment 

 more Dick's knife was in her throat. Yo. 



AROUND CAPE HATTERAS.— 1 1. 



[Concluded from Page 107.~\ 



THE first day of our arrival at the island our party 

 spent in unpacking our traps and loading shells, 

 which in wildfowl shooting should by all means be nickel 

 or brass, as they shoot stronger than paper shells. That 

 evening I accompanied the keeper to the tower's summit, 

 and we swept the horizon with a powerful field glass. 

 The view was sublime. The cape lay like a map below, 

 and the coast could be traced for miles. There was evi- 

 dently going to be a squall, and the white cap billows 

 came dashing over each other on the beach like a squadron 

 of a thousand horses on a mad steeple chase. The storm 

 king was marshalling his forces for the onset, and had 

 dispatched Triton to summon JEolus from the Cavern of 

 the Winds and allure Neptune from the side of Amphi- 

 trite. The sea-gulls, inhabited by the soul of Halcyone, 

 scented the tempest from afar and flew screaming across 

 the waters. The sky was of a dull-leaden color and 

 hurrying masses of clouds hid the setting sun. 



"It isgoing to be a bad night," said the keeper, coming 

 to my side, "I have just taken a glance at the barometer, 

 and it is falling rapidly. Look, yonder is a sure sign." 



Gazing ocean ward I could see the various crafts reefing 

 their sails and showing their sterns to the coast, intent on 

 placing as many miles as possible between them and the 

 dangerous shoals. 



That night is one that will ever be remembered by me, 

 for I had what the greatest of the Bourbon kings craved 

 for — a new sensation. A fearful storm swept the Atlantic 

 Coast, and I sat alone with the keeper in the top of the 

 tower, my two companions preferring to remain in the 

 house by the glowing crackling fire. 



It needed but little imagination to fancy that a besieg- 

 ing force was storming the tower. Tbe sleet struck the 

 glass reflector like bullets, making it ring again, the 

 howling of the wind and the tumbling of: the surf against 

 the shore sounded like the booming of cannon and the 

 stroke of the ball, while the scream of tbe frightened gulls 

 seemed as the yell of the escalading forlorn hope. 



Then, again, it appeared as if a legion of fiends were 

 trying to uproot or stave in the lighthouse. How they 

 shrieked, snorted, yelled and clamored with their sten- 

 torian voices. How they fly all around the tower seeking 

 some weak point to burst in. Ye gods! what a pande- 

 monium! Are all the foul spirits of the earth, the air, 

 the sea, set free to-night? Listen to their yells, their 

 roars, their whoops, their squeak, their hoots and their 

 derisive groans. Merlin getting in his enchanted cave 

 and invoking witch, worlock and helling, never listened 

 to a more cursed discord than this. Faust shutting his 

 eyes upon the hideous orgies of the Walpurgis night, never 

 heard a more infernal tumult made by monsters, vam- 

 pires, ghouls and demons. 



All at once there came several unmistakable and dis- 

 tinct strokes and knocks against the reflector, that caused 

 [ me to bound from my seat. "What in the name of Heaven 

 j is that?" 



i "It is the wild ducks attracted by the lights, and you 

 will find plenty of them in the yard' in the morning dead 

 or crippled. One fearful night the wildfowl came so 

 thick and fast and with such tremendous velocity and 

 force that I was really afraid they would shiver the glass, 

 though it is an inch and a quarter thick. Had they done 

 so, the light would have been blown out, and God knows 

 what would have happened then. I picked up nineteen 

 ducks and eight wild geese in the morning." 



"Are they the only birds that are lured by the light?" 



"No, all kinds of birds are attracted by the flash, es- 

 pecially on a dark night. I have gathered during my 

 stay here every kind of migratory bird. I only wish I 

 understood the art of taxidermy, I should have had by 

 this time a superb collection." 



Further conversation became impossible; the storm had 

 only sunk to gain strength, and recommenced with re- 

 doubled fury. The gale had changed to a whirlwind, 

 and now a new horror was added to the scene; the tower 

 began to rock to and fro. It could not be imagination, 

 for the keeper's hand-lantern, which hung suspended 

 from a girder overhead, was swinging like a pendulum. 



I was getting nervous, the keeper smiled, and finding 

 the human voice could not be heard above the din outside, 

 he produced his pencil and wrote: "lean sympathize 

 with you. When I first came here and felt the tower 

 sway backward and forth, I could not stand it, and sev- 

 eral times I made a break for the open air; and then I 

 would shut one eye and walking back some distance would 

 measure the profile of the tower against the house, and 

 thus became convinced that the structure was stationary, 

 on the outside at least. " 



"But it does move on the inside," I wrote back, "can't 

 you feel it?" 



The keeper only smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 



The tornado now stormed the tower with a ravening 

 ferocity impossible to describe, the tall shaft seemed to 

 bend beneath the blast; I became demoralized. "I can't 

 stand this any longer," I shouted in the keeper's ear, and 

 slipping through the manhole I reached the iron stair- 



