128 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[March 5, 1891. 



IN THE FRANCONIA WILDERNESS. 



EIGHT o'clock of a foggy, drizzling, morning saw two 

 friends and their guide iBsne from vSargent'a f arm 

 house in North \Voodstock. N. H.. and turn their steps 

 up the valley of the East Branch of the Pemigewasset 

 River. The two friends had been playing at camping for 

 a week or so on a beautiful knoil near the Hume House. 

 They had not been strong enougli for thorough camping, 

 no they generally slept on their bed of spruce boughs, and 

 lounged there, and spent rainy days there before a Ness- 

 muk fire, but they turned up pretty regularly to inspect 

 the morning and evening bill of fare at the Hume House. 

 And in truth it bore iMBpecfcion well, and never failed to 

 materialize up to the full anticipation. Yet the two old 

 campers ioi]gj?d for some genuine outdoor living in the 

 heart of the wilderness which they had seen from the 

 summits of their various mountain climbs. 



And so here they were, wending their way toward the 

 primeval forests which still shade the mountain springs 

 of the East Branch of the Pemigewasset River, Their 

 plan was to proceed northeastwardly up the East Branch 

 five miles to the Hancock Branch; then four miles up this, 

 southeasterly, to the Forks of tire Hancock. They would 

 camp here for the night, and the next day go out by the 

 south, through Mad River Notch, to Greeley's at Water- 

 ville, some eight miles distant. 



As they tramped along the naxTow but well-worn path 

 from Pollard's up the East Branch — now by the rushing 

 river, now just out of sight of it — they were an interest- 

 ing and, withal, well-assorted trio.' The two younger 

 men were old and fast friends, who had taken many a 

 hard tramp together, and shared at rarer intervals the 

 same camp. We will call them the Fisherman and the 

 Mountaineer. They both enjoyed all kinds of open-air 

 exercise, and appreciated nature in all her moods, but 

 the one thought the waterways led to the abodes of her 

 fairest scenes and rarest secrets, while the other regarded 

 her mountain tops as the right standpoint of observation. 

 So they had impartially devoted themselves to the moun- 

 tains, woods and streams of that beautiful region, noth- 

 ing coming amis. Yet the Fisherman had rather the best 

 of it, for their bodily strength was not as it had been in 

 the days when they had taken their forty mile walk 

 between breakfast and bedtime, or had carried their 

 knapsacks from the Fulton Lakes of the Adirondacks to 

 the heart of the Catskiils in a week. The leisure scramble 

 along the rocky stream beds was now a more appropriate 

 exercise than the tough climbirg which all the . mountain- 

 side imposed. Confining desk work had left their spirits 

 still youthful, but, in spite of themselves, it had weak- 

 ened their shoulders for the knapsa,ck, and placed a limit 

 shorter than the sunlight to their pedestrian powers. 

 Yet they were confident that they could easily make the 

 nine miles to the camping grormd by a late dinnertime, 

 and that the journey out could safely be tried after the 

 next day'.s nooning. The intervening afternoon and 

 morning would give a fair chance to explore the streams 

 of that remote wilderness. So they planned, 



The guide was a middle-aged man of gentle character 

 and finer grain than one usually finds in his position. He 

 had evidently sprung from good stock, but poor health 

 and bodily weakness had kept him down. He could not 

 wrestle with the rocks and stumps of his native fields as 

 a thi-iving farmer must do in that region. So he had 

 taken to fishing as a profession. His legs were his tough- 

 est jjart, and could carry him into the unfrequented places 

 where trout still abounded , and his back was strong enough 

 to take in his axe and j)rovisions and bring out from 15 to 

 SOlbs. of dressed fish. Twenty pounds would net him $n, 

 and would take two or three days of hard work to catch 

 and mai-ket. It was not large wages, for the season was 

 short, but it kept him forehanded, and he had his horse 

 in Sargent's pasture lot and his buggy in the wagon 

 shed. He knew the wilderness through its waterways; in 

 fact, he was half amphibious, like his companions in 

 trade, the mink and otter. He was garrulous of himself, 

 but was quaint and humorous in speech and clean in lan- 

 guage, and was full of the lore of woods and water and 

 weather. He was altogether a choice companion. 



Meanwhile the party were wending their way along 

 the trail making the most of the limited observation 

 which a woodland path affords. A camp ground on the 

 hillside, with its small patch of thinned trees and old 

 bark shanty, was passed. Then the attention was taken 

 with the foot of a slide which had come down a little 

 brook, clearing out all of its trout, and spreading sand 

 and stones and debris all around its mouth. Next a bin-nt 

 patch was struck, where the young growth was about 

 twenty feet high, and the trail was almost covered over 

 by a rank growth of weeds which hung dripping with 

 water, A little of this was passed, and the party arrived 

 at the mouth of the Hancock Branch. 



The stream came in on the opposite bank, and the trav- 

 elers dimly supijosed that a log bridge or some stepping 

 stones would take them over. But they were soon en- 

 lightened. Charles quietly remarked, "Here is the best 

 place to cross. You won't find the water more than knee- 

 deep." He then cut a stout staff for each one and led 

 them down. There were stepping stones, to be sure, but 

 they were a foot under water. None the less they were 

 highly useful, as they saved another foot of wetting. It 

 was a curious sensation looking down through the crystal 

 green of the water to pick the way along on the highest 

 stones, while the current rendered the foothold uncertain 

 and a misstep meant a douse up to the middle. The 

 twenty or thirty yards of stream were soon crossed, and 

 they saw before them the bed of the Hancock Branch. 

 Here the party had expected to follow a "spotted trail" 

 up to the Forks. Now, it takes three things to make a 

 good wilderness trail. First, it must tie blazed or 

 "spotted." This is done by chipping a piece of bark as 

 big as one's hand from that side of the tree which is 

 toward a person as he walks, first on one side of the track 

 and then on the other. Another set of blazes must also 

 be made facing in the opposite direction to guide those 

 going the other way, This makes a spotted trail. Next 

 it is bushed out; that is, all the bushes and overlapping 

 branches are cut off to make an open path. Lastly, it 

 must be walked upon to render the track easy to follow 

 and to make the ground firm for the feet. Now, a sjjotted 

 trail is only better than the unmarked woods in that one 

 will not lose his way. It will be rough to the feet, and 

 tangled with bushes and overlain by logs. 



On that particular day the ground was wet and slip- 

 pery, and every branch and leaf hung dripping with rain 

 drops. Progress on such a track would be slow and very 



unpleasant, so the guide suggested that it would be much 

 the best plan to go up the bed of the stream. This bed 

 was peculiar. It was an open avenue, 30 to 40yds. wide, 

 aved with large cobblestones from 6in. to Oft. in 

 iameter, averaging some 18in, Down this open space, 

 crossing from side to side, ran the stream, in a deeper 

 grove, similarly bottomed, and 5 to lOvds. wide. Up the 

 dry part of the stream bed the route now ran. It was 

 slow work stepping from stone to stone, all slipi^ery from 

 the rain. After a few hundred yards the stream came so 

 close to the wooded bank that it was necessary either to 

 take to the woods or to ford the stream, Charles at once 

 settled the question by quietly wading across to the open 

 rocks on the other side. Again the feet and ankles, and 

 even the knees, were well cooled off. This process of 

 crossing and recrossing was repeated time after time. 



Meanwhile the hours were rapidly passing, and the 

 four miles to the falls seemed indefinitely lengthened. 

 By noon it seemed as if they must have gone the whole 

 distance, and yet the guide said that their camping ground 

 was yet a long way off. So a halt was called and a cold 

 and cheerless lunch was eaten, for there was not time 

 enough to start a good fire. 



Up to this time the novelty of the whole experience 

 had kept it interesting, but as the hours wore away into 

 the afternoon it became very monotonous. The fisher- 

 man's heart sank with a sense of irreparable loss as reach 

 after reach of the stream was passed with no stop for 

 fishing. How he longed to halt right there and set the 

 guide to camp building while he and bis friend enticed 

 the wary trout from the crystal green of the pools. 

 Everything made it an ideal place for a mountain camp. 

 Of course nothing can equal a lakeside as a camp site, 

 but most inland camps are so shut in that there is no out- 

 look nor that sense of breadth which belongs to the woods. 

 But here was the long stretch of open stream bed, most 

 of it dry, opening up the sky and the distant mountains 

 and affording long ranges for work with the rod without 

 either bush work or wading. The fly-fisherman could 

 stand lOyds. from his pool on dry stones and cast lOyds, 

 behind him with no fear of obstructions. The user of 

 the worm while well concealed could throw his bait into 

 the rapids and falls and let it drift down to the deeper 

 eddies and around the big stones in the manner most 

 natural and taking for trout. A few logs felled across 

 the stream would have given a mile of such fishing with 

 neither need nor much risk of even wetting the feet. The 

 stream was not often visited and was of size enough to 

 insure large fish. But the travelers did not stop, for the 

 Forks must be made without any delay if a camp was to 

 be made there before dark. So they pushed on up the 

 narrowing stream, wliich ran and now filled its bed till 

 the most of the traveling was by wading. 



At last the Forks were reached. But no map nor guide 

 can convince those men that they had gone but four 

 miles since wading the East Branch*. They had tramped 

 pretty steady from 10 to 3, and would have believed that 

 the distance was eight or even ten miles. But it was 

 now accomplished, and a little search revealed the old 

 camp where they were to stop. Gladly they dropped 

 their knapsacks and bundles and rested their tired frames. 

 But time pressed them. If they were to fish now was the 

 chance. So, leaving the camp to the guide, they took 

 rods and creel and explored the pools of the East Fork, It 

 was like going up stairs. Six or ten feet of rise and 

 thirty feet level. But the trout were there, and one or 

 two came out of every piece of deeper water. Worms 

 and flies were both used and the fish bit equally well at 

 each, but they hooked themselves more readily on the 

 worm. Over boulders and drifted logs, back into the 

 heart of the great wilderness, and up toward the tops of 

 the high ridges the anglers pushed their way till the 

 waning light warned them to return. Then they halted 

 and poured out the creelful of fish on a flat rock and 

 counted up into the nineties. It is true that they were 

 small, bnt that detracted nothing from their beauty or 

 excellence. Down, down the rocky terraces the pair 

 rapidly proceeded. The rain had ceased some time be- 

 fore and the rocka were now dry, but they risked some 

 falls in their quick descent. As the dusk of evening 

 crept forth from the shadows of the pines and hemlocks 

 to veil the whole landscape, the now weary trampers 

 threw thernselves before tlie bright fire with that de- 

 licious feeling which comes only to the true camper. 

 The guide might gently remonstrate that they were late 

 in getting in if they wanted trout for supper. They put 

 fish and all further arrangements into his hands and 

 abandoned themselves to fate, thoroughly happy except 

 for some feeling that intimated that when the supper 

 should be ready it would not be long neglected. 



Their waterproof coats had kept the rain out as far 

 down as their waist, and they began to consider some 

 further lowering of the dry line. Soon a motly array of 

 trousers, shoes, stockings and linen hung from camp 

 poles, and improvised horses, glowing brightlv in the 

 firelight and steaming ott' their moisture, while the 

 owners were trying to find the line of comfort, where 

 they would neither shiver with cold nor scorch with heat, 



Meanw^hile Charles appeared with the trout. He took 

 a tin plate and made a long handle for it by splitting the 

 end of a sapling and inserting the edge of the plate in the 

 cleft. Then some slices of salt pork were put in the 

 plate and it was held over the fire until a skim of boiling 

 grease covered the pan. Into this the trout were dropped, 

 and the most savory of odors curled with the smoke 

 around the camp. Meanwhile the tea can was boiling 

 away on the fore log, and also a kettle of eggs, and it 

 was not long before tea, eggs, trout and bread and butter 

 began rapidly to disappear. What feast could be better? 

 And what could equal the luxirry of the repose after the 

 meal, every sense satisfied, the body refreshed, and the 

 tide of life rising higher and higher as the minutes 

 passed. The ouLy temporal thing that claimed any care 

 was the gradual resumption of the dried clothing and the 

 inspection of the quarters for the night. 



The old camp had been much repaired by Charles's in- 

 dustry. It was about seven feet square and four feet high 

 in front, sloping back nearly to the ground, thatched and 

 sided with hemlock bark, mostly freshly pealed by the 

 gmde. Close in front was the bright fii-e, and at the side 

 was a generous pile of wood for the night and early morn- 

 ing. The bed might have been thicker, but the bushes 

 were so wet that new browse could not be stripped. Yet 

 the old bed had some softness left, and when it was cov- 

 ered with thin sheets of bark from the white birch it 

 looked very inviting to the weary campers. The party 

 turned ia about 9 o'clock, and there was not much time 



wasted between then and the next daylight. All night 

 the fire was kept just not too hot by the occasional atten- 

 tion of the faithful guide, and whenever they waked it 

 was with a sense of pleasant glow. 



The next morning found them in no hurry to stir. The 

 hard tramp, with its unusual experiences of rock climbing 

 and wading, still affected them. Also the heartv supper 

 eaten just before retiring left them with less than the 

 usual appetite. But by the time some trout were fried 

 and some tea made and a dish of corned beef frizzled, the 

 appetites were ready for a square meal. 



And now Charles prepared to take his departure down 

 stream, leaving the two to go on southward along the 

 trail, which from that place was both spotted and foot- 

 worn. They bade their escort a hearty farewell, threw 

 an extra dollar into his pay, and hoped that the next time 

 they went into the wildnerness they would have Charles 

 Huckins for a guide and not less than a week for the 

 trip. 



it was agreed between the two that the Fisherman 

 should have till 10 to try the stream again, while the 

 Mountaineer rested in camp. Fisherman used this time, 

 and in an hour and a half ten trout were brought 

 to the creel, of which one was the largest caught on the 

 whole trip. Even it was not more than llin. long. But 

 the Fisherman found no such water as had been passed a 

 few miles below. In due time they met at camp and 

 packed up for their further journey. They hoped to reach 

 Waterville by one or two in the afternoon. Still they 

 took some bread, and butter, and salt and meat from their 

 stores, besides the trout. Their packs also contained 

 plates, cups, knives, forks and spoons, besides rubber 

 clothing and a few extra garments. The Fisherman 

 carried his duffle in a canvas knapsackmade on Nessmuk's 

 pattern. The Mountaineer was content with a shawl- 

 strap. Thus equipped, they bade farewell to the Forks of 

 the Hancock and took up their march. 



Now the Fisherman had recently taken to wearing 

 glasses, and was not yet so accustomed to them as always 

 to remember to put them on again when he had laid them 

 aside for any purpose. He had nearly lost them several 

 times, and hoped that he had his last lesson in carefulness. 

 But no, for when the train had stopped to rest awhile after 

 an hour's tramp it was discovered that the glasses were 

 again missing. After humbly appeasing the wrath of his 

 comrade, the luckless loser cached his knapsack and rod 

 and started back to camp to look for them. He searched 

 the camp and. the stream side; he examined minutely the 

 places where he had performed his morning ablutious and 

 had stopped to drink; but no glasses gladdened his anxious 

 and now tired eyes. 



By this time it was evident that Waterville would not 

 be reached in time for dinner. So he made one more 

 visit to the few remaining camp stores for some further 

 supplies. This done, he paused to take a final glance at 

 the camp, and lo! his eyes fell on the missing spectaclep. 

 These were quickly fitted to their place, and the pleased 

 finder hurried back on the now familiar trail. Sounds 

 of distant thunder spurred him on, and he soon rejoined 

 his waiting comrade. It was now noon and both were 

 ready for dinner. So a halt was soon called, and a fire 

 built. In front of this was stuck up a stout bush with 

 its branches trimmed short. On each of these spurs a 

 trout was hung. An occasional turning was the only 

 further attention they needed. Meanwhile the remaining 

 corned beef was hashed in a plate and mixed with some 

 stale bead duly seasoned. The edge of the plate was in- 

 serted into the cleft end of a long stick, and held by this 

 handle over the fire. The trout were excellent and all 

 were eaten. The corned beef scallop tasted of coffee, 

 from too intimate association with that article at some 

 past time. Nevertheless there was none of it thrown 

 away. 



Refreshed by the fire and lunch, the party again took 

 up the trail, just as the thunder storm broke over them. 

 The ground became suddenly sticky, and the bushes were 

 saturated with water. Their nether clothing soon was 

 equally wet. Still they pushed on, going through the 

 Mad River Notch and coming out on the little Greely 

 Ponds. Here they saw a welcome sign of 4 M. On they 

 trudged over a beaten trail, and when they had begun to 

 think that they must have passed unnoticed the third 

 notch sign, they came upon the 'Si M. Then and there 

 they revised their estimate of time for wilderness traveling. 

 On a fine road they could make four miles per hour, but 

 on a trail, under a knapsack, it should be cut down to 1* 

 or 1. Finally, at 5 o'clock, they emerged into the Water- 

 ville Clearing, soaked from the waist down. They could 

 not go to the hotel in that plight, so they found a secluded 

 sand bank by the Mad River, collected some dry drift 

 wood and started a fire. Again they hung out their 

 wash on improvised clothes poles, the fire, meanwhile, 

 supplying the need of more extensive covering. A half 

 hour of steaming sufficed, and, ironing being dispensed 

 with, the garments were returned to their places. But, 

 alas, the Fisherman learned a lesson about the rapid dry- 

 ing of wet leather, for his shoes were so shriveled that 

 the whole uppers cracked open, and the soles threatened 

 to fall off at every step. 



As they sought the comfortable quarters of the hotel, 

 they moralized on the need for proper precaution in 

 wilderness traveling. They concluded that events might 

 easily have happened which would have left them out in 

 the woods all that night, with no ax or hatchet, no tent 

 and no food. It is true they could have put together a 

 brush shelter, and kept a fire going with dead wood, and 

 probably caught a trout, but it would have been a very 

 uncomfortable experience: while an ax or hatchet, and 

 a pound of cornmeal, would have rendered them equal to 

 any emergency of delay. So they unanimously adopted 

 the resolution never to go into the wilderness again with- 

 out some means of cutting wood and a supply of light 

 provisions. In coming out of the primeval forest into 

 civilization, no more fitting place for transition could be 

 found than this settlement of Waterville. 



A line of farms had crept from the open country of the 

 Pemigewasset, 10 miles up the narrow valley of the Mad 

 River, till it reached a broad interval of a few hundred 

 acres, right in the heart of the wilderness, and 1,500ft. 

 above the sea level. On all sides of this rise the peaks of 

 the lower Franconia Mountains, 2,500 to 3,000ft. higher. 

 Down the gorges between these rush the streams which 

 here unite to make up the Mad River. The waters abotmd 

 in trout and through the woods and up the mountains 

 have been opened more than 50 miles of paths and trails. 

 It is a most charming gateway to the untouched haunts 

 of nature, either for entrance or exit. They tarrie4 in it 



