4S0 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 18, 1891. 



IN THE ADIRONDACKS. 



THREE WEEKS ON THE RAQUETTE. 



AT the foot of Eaquette Falls, in the Adirondack woods, 

 on a certain afternoon in late September, five Sara- 

 nac boats beached their prows on the east side of the 

 river. It had rained fitfuJly during the morning, but the 

 sky was now clear and blue, and a light breeze was shak- 

 ing the last remaining drops from the balsams that fringed 

 the shore. First to spring out upon the bank was the 

 guide, closely followed by his two hoxmds, Sport and 

 Ti:ail. Then came Henry, the stout-armed, who had 

 pressed the guide hard in the long upstream row from the 

 Indian carry, and whose boat, like the guide's, was loaded 

 to the water's edge with camp equipage and provisions. 

 Close after him came the "two Charleses," Charles the 

 Short and Charles the Long, who had "spelled" each other 

 with their hea vy load against the current. Then came an- 

 other mutually helpful pair, Uncle Jack and "Ich" (sawed- 

 oS for Ichabod), and last of all Frank and the Scribe, 

 who from first place had quietly dropped behind to last, 

 lest too long continued priority should dampen the already 

 moist ardor of the rest, who were beginning to feel the 

 effects of two days' steady rowing. 



WilUng hands soon unloaded the baggage, and while 

 the guide was chopping his backlog ajid building the 

 frame for his fire, the rest of us proceeded to unpack 

 and get the tents in readiness to raise. We selected a 

 high and dry knoll, about five rods from the water, and 

 pitched one of the large tents. Then came about fifteen 

 minutes for refreshments; after which we pitched the 

 other large wall-tent, facing the first and about 15ft, from 

 it. We then rigged uprights and a ridge-pole for a large 

 canvas fly, and spread the latter over the space between 

 the two tents, pinning down the edges of the canvas with 

 heavy logs and stones. This gave us a continuous canvas 

 inclosui-e some 36ft. long and 10ft. wide. Every gap was 

 closed up with strips of drilling, which we had brought 

 for that purpose; and when all was done our camp was as 

 tight and windproof as a drum. We left a flap for a door 

 in the fly, close to one of the wall-tents, and had it so 

 arranged that it could be piimed up securely at night. 

 But the greatest triumph of comfort was the little fold- 

 ing sheet-iron stove, which we set up on four stones inside 

 the fly. The pipe ran up through the canvas (the latter 

 being protected by a tin sheath), and was capped by an iron 

 wire spark-destroyer. This had worked first rate, when 

 we kept a man outside tapping it with a stick to loosen 

 the soot. At other times it choked up like a baby with 

 the croup, and filled the tent so full of smoke that even 

 tlie dogs wept pathetically. 



Speaking of dogs reminds me that I have only noticed 

 the guide's team. Sport and Trail. We had two other 

 hounds, contributed to the general fund of caninity (to 

 coin a word) by different members of the party. One'waa 

 old Jube, now'in his tenth season, but tireless and ardent 

 as ever. This veteran hound was the property of Uncle 

 Jack, and had accompanied his master into the woods 

 every season since he was a puppy. It is safe to say that 

 no deerhound in St. Eegis county has a more enviable 

 reputation than old Jube. Nearly all the guides know 

 him, and respect him, too; for Jube has brains and ex- 

 perience, qualities which are as rare in dogs as in men, 

 and worth quite as much. It is impossible to cajole Jube 

 into staying over night in any camp except that one 

 where his master is; and in all his ten years of deer- 

 hunting he has never lain out over night but once. The 

 homing instinct is a prime quality in a deerhound, where 

 so much depends on having the dogs at hand every morn- 

 ing to start fresh "races." Another of Jube's superior 

 qualities is the almost human way in which he picks up 

 a lost scent, not puzzKng about the spot where he stops, 

 as most hounds do, but leading off, head in air, and 

 circling up the wind till he catches it again. 



The other canine member of the party was one Hector, 

 a small lemon and white hound with beagle blood in him. 

 He ran all his races to water with the speed of the wind, 

 and then, instead of returning to the starter to be put on 

 a fresh trail, amused himself by running over the old 

 track, in full cry, three or four times in succession. The 

 fourth or fifth time seemed to afford him Just as much 

 amusement as the first, and it made no difference to the 

 rascal how often the poor watcher on the runway was 

 put in a fever of excitement and expectation, and then 

 cooled down with April-fool suddenness. To Hector it 

 seemed that the whole expedition was gotten up for his 

 individual enjoyment; and certainly no dog ever had a 

 better time inside of three weeks. He ran fifteen races 

 68 times, and developed such an appetite that in one 

 week's time, by reliable computation, he ate four times 

 his own weight of solid meat. And yet, in spite of such 

 hearty feeding, his ribs stuck out so prominently that any 

 one seeing Mm at a distance would suppose that it was 

 only a dog's head and tail in parenthesis. 



The camp, we have said, was pitched on the east bank 

 of the Eaquette Eiver, just below the falls. Back of it, 

 and up the river about an eighth of a mile, was McClel- 

 lan's, a roxxgh board house, devoid of clapboards, where 

 dwelt the proprietor of the rapid's carry, a valuable priv- 

 ilege, but secured only by squatter's right. McClellan's 

 was in the midst of a considerable clearing, the only one 

 for many miles, consisting of some twenty or thirty 

 acres of meadow and pasture. Through this clearing, 

 and into the woods on the south side, ran the road over 

 the carry— a perpetual slime bed in the dryest season, 

 more slippery than hidden ice, and with ruts and sloughs 

 striking down to Avernus. 



The watch grounds were about equally distributed 

 above and below the falls. When deer were started in 

 the hills back of camp they were abotit as likely to run 

 to water clear up to Cold Eiver or Moose Creek as below, 

 at Stony Creek or the Long Stretch. Therefore, men had 

 to be stationed each day above and below, and one of our 

 first moves was to transport two of our five boats over the 

 carry, so that they could be used above the rapids. The 

 various watch grounds in progressive order of remoteness 

 from the camp were as follows: Above— Head of the 

 Eapids, the Eock, the Elbow, Moose Creek, Pine Eidge 

 and Cold Eiver, Below— Bullpout Ledge, the Meadow, 

 the Haybank, Palmer Brook, the Short Draw, Stony 

 "Slew" Draw, the Long Draw, the Stretch and Stony 

 Creek. Of course, we had not men enough to cover all 

 of these watch grounds every day, but as there was 

 hardly a day wheA other parties, from Wardner's or Mc- 



Clellan's, did not occupy some of them, there were 

 enough of us, generally, to hold our share. 



We awoke after the first night in camp a trifle stiff and 

 sore in the bones, owing to the scanty amount of balsam 

 browse which we had had time to prepare and spread the 

 previous evening. But a httle stirring about and a good 

 breakfast, consisting of all the camp dainties except veni- 

 son, served to take the kinks out of us, and by 8 o'clock 

 we were all ready to go on our runways. All our boatg 

 being still below the rapids the whole party had to be dis- 

 tributed among the lower watch pounds. Frank, who 

 was familiar with the ground, havmg camped and hunted 

 there the year before, piloted the party down stream, 

 dropping off men and boats at various stations. Mean- 

 while the guide, with four eager hounds tugging by their 

 chains at the rings in his belt, had started out over the 

 hills to the east. Scarcely an hour had elapsed when a 

 single shot, the signal agreed upon, announced to the ex- 

 pectant watchers that the first dog had been started on 

 the first race. 



All was now intense, but suppressed, excitement. 

 Down the line of watchers, as the far-off sound of the 

 hound's baying broke on the ear, ran the electric premo- 

 nitions of buck fever. AU eyes were strained up and 

 down their respective stretches of water, every hand 

 grasped the rifle with convulsive determination. Float- 

 ing sticks and leaves and bits of foam assumed startling 

 and vivid proportions, and more than one heart increased 

 its pulsations with a wild jump as a bottle, set afloat by 

 the conscienceless man at the head of the line, came glid- 

 ing around the curves with the swift current. 



In the meantime the hound's baying grew more and 

 more distinct, softened now by some hollow between the 

 hills, and again swelling forth clear and sonorous as the 

 chase swept over the crest. Suddenly there was a shot — 

 two more — another; then silence, broken only by the still 

 hot baying of the hound, as he swept up the last ridge 

 overlooking the river. 



Who had been the lucky man? This was the query 

 which flashed simultaneously through the minds of seven 

 anxious and disappointed watchers. Meanwhil e a strange 

 boat, containing an elderly man and a boy, was pushing 

 out into the stream, between the Haybank and Palmer 

 Brook. The twain picked up a fine doe floating in mid- 

 stream, towed her ashore, bled her, and then lifted her 

 into the boat. About this time old Trail came down to 

 water, and the man stationed at Palmer Brook hove in 

 sight, churning up the foam with his efforts at the oars. 



"We have shot a deer ahead of you," said the elderly 

 man, "and will give you the bide and some venison if 

 you want it. Our dog was put out on the same side, and 

 we were watching for his race." 



There was nothing for it but to submit to the law of the 

 woods, which says that the deer belongs to the man who 

 shoots it, though com-tesy always yields the hide to the 

 dog. We heartily wished the old man and his son had 

 been anywhere else except slipping in between two of our 

 watchers; but, as McClellan said when we asked him if 

 he had any objections to our camping on his pre- 

 empted territory, "This is a free country," and a man in 

 the woods has a right to go where he pleases. 



All the other races started that morning went away to 

 Moose Creek and Cold Eiver, and after three or four 

 hours longer of monotonous watching we were all glad 

 to hear the guides' three guns from camp, the customary 

 signal for return. All the doge had finished their races 

 and returned except Hector. He was probably on the 

 second or third trip over hia and would see us later, 

 although we did not know at the time that he was 

 aflaicted with this foolish habit of "doubling up"' his races. 



We had dinner, and then all hands turned to and cut 

 and spread browse for a couple of hours. This gave us a 

 soft and fragrant bed on which to spread our blankets 

 and promised more peaceful slumbers than we had en- 

 joyed on the previous night. Next in order the carpen- 

 ters of the party buUt a table out of some saplings and a 

 few old boards that had been left over from last year's 

 camp. The rest cut wood for the little stove, put up a 

 rude framework to rest the guns against, strung up lines 

 and drove nails into the upright tent poles to hang 

 clothes on, and busied themselves generally in making 

 the camp more comfortable. When dusk came on we 

 started a rousing fire in the little stove, lit our duplex- 

 burner lamp and gathered with pipes and cigars about 

 the fire to discuss the events of the day and plan for the 

 morrow. It was decided that three men should go over 

 the carry in the morning with two boats and watch the 

 more important runways above the rapids. Tha guide 

 took a lantern and went up to McClellan's to arrange an 

 early carry for the boats and get the saddle of venison 

 which the old man, who was stopping at the "hotel," had 

 agreed to have ready for us. 



Next morning we were up betimes, and had our first 

 meal of venison. It was rather of a disappointment, 

 being very tough and flavorless, but the guide assured us 

 that it would be better when it got "ripe," if it ever had 

 a chance to. Promptly at 8 o'clock McClellan's team ap- 

 peared at the lower end of the carry, and three of us 

 loaded on the boats and walked over the slimy mile-and- 

 a-half carry through the woods. One man was left at 

 the bead of the rapids with a boat, while the other two 

 went further up stream, one being left at the Rock while 

 the other went on to Pine Eidge. 



As luck would have it no deer were driven above this 

 time, and the up-stream watchers had a whole undis- 

 turbed day in which to indulge in lofty meditation and 

 suck their pipes. But below there was considerable ex- 

 citement. Ich, the youngest of the party, had a buck 

 driven in to him at the Long Draw. He heard no dog at 

 the time, and was sitting all wrapped up in the "long, 

 long thoughts" of youth and his rubber blanket (for it had 

 commenced to rain), when there was a slight disturbance 

 in the bushes near by, an almost imperceptible splash in 

 the water, and the young man looked up and saw an 

 antlered head in the stream, only a few yards from shore 

 and swimming down toward him. Instead of sitting 

 perfectly still and letting the buck get into midstream aa 

 he ought, he leaped to his feet and threw up his little 

 single shot .32-caIiber rifle. The deer saw the movement 

 of course, and quick as thought turned for shore again. 

 Ich fired, and avers that the buck jumped nearly his 

 entire length out of water, while the blood poured down 

 his neck in streams. It took a moment or two to throw 

 out the exploded shell and get in another, and by this 

 time the deer had reached the bank and with one leap 

 vanished in the woods. Ich sent another ball after him 

 just as he jumped, but the buck refused to accept the 



invitation to remain, and crashed away through the fallen 

 timber with the speed of desperation. 



Uncle Jack, who was on the watch ground below, 

 heard the firing and came up with his boat. He and Ich 

 traced the deer through the woods to a big swamp, where 

 they lost the trail and had to go back. They then got the 

 dog and put him on the track. The hound followed the 

 trail into the heart of the big swamp and then suddenly 

 became silent. Perhaps he lost the trail in the deepening 

 water, or may be he came upon the deer lying dead. 

 Who knows? There is, unfortunately, a deal of this sort 

 of heartless uncertainty in deer hounding. Further up 

 the river things went more successfully. Long Charles, 

 stationed at the Haybank, saw a big doe come into the 

 river, about midway between bis stand and the meadow. 

 The man at the meadow saw it at the same time and came 

 running down the winter road to get a shot, but Long 

 Charles began to pump his repeater at seventy yards, and 

 when the man from the meadow got within hearing dis- 

 tance, Charles pointed his finger at a floating object in the 

 stream and remarked coolly, "There she is." This 

 remarkable freedom from tremor was the more creditable 

 to Charles the Long, inasmuch as this was the first deer 

 he had ever shot at in his life. The meadow man now 

 ran back for his boat, and in a few minutes the fii'st deer 

 of the hunt was lying on the bank. Eain now began to 

 faU in torrents, and as all the other races seemed to have 

 run to distant and unguessed of waters, there was a 

 gradual assembling of drenched watchers at the camp. 

 Dinner was cooked over a roaring fire in the little camp 

 store instead of outside, and at an early hour the fragrant 

 tobacco smoke began to curl itself in fantastic shapes 

 about tales and jokes as old as Adam, yet destined to live 

 and flourish as long as the race our sire begat. About an 

 hour after retiring to our blankets, when all was still in 

 the tents, save the cosy beating of rain on the canvas, up 

 spake the youthful Ichabod in his sleep, and quotha, "It 

 was a buck, I tell you I I know it was a buck, because it 

 hadn't any horns." He was living over the never-to-be- 

 gotten event of the morning, Morpheus had mixed his 

 logic, but we were aU too far down in the Valley of Nod 

 to laugh at him. 



The third day was an uninteresting and disagreeable 

 blank. The weather was foggy and cloudy from morn- 

 ing till night, with occasional spurts of rain. Not one of 

 the party saw a deer, or even heard a dog, except for a 

 few minutes in the morning, when the races were first 

 started. All seemed to lead away far to the southeast, 

 and it was late at night before the dogs returned. The 

 next day was Sunday, and we all lounged about camp, 

 smoking, reading and doing odd jobs in the way of in- 

 creasing the comfort of our lodging. The sun came out 

 clear and warm during the afternoon, and some of us 

 sought out sheltered places and enjoyed the unwonted 

 luxury of a sunbath. A sportsman from the Ampersand 

 Hotel had come up to McClellan's for a few days" shoot- 

 ing, and in the evening his guide, Jake Lordson, came 

 down to arrange with us for the morrow's hunt. We 

 agreed that the new man should stand at the Haybank, 

 and that the two guides should put out the dogs together. 



Monday dawned bright and warm — a royal day. We 

 got an early start all around. Frank, Long Charles and 

 the Scribe going above the rapids, while the rest of the 

 party went below. As it happened, not a single dog 

 drove his race above, and the trio above the falls had an 

 opportunity to extend their Sabbath through another day 

 ot sunshine and calm reflection. But below there was 

 milch going on to stir the blood. The watch grounds 

 were occupied as follows: Uncle Jack at Bullpout Ledge, 

 Short Charles at the Meadow, the Ampersand man at the 

 Haybank, John (a very welcome addition to our jiarty) at 

 Palmer Brook, Ich at the Short Draw, Henry at Stony 

 Slew Draw, and Jake Lordson below, to catch off the 

 dogs if they ran beyond the watchers. 



The excitement began a little before ten o'clock, when 

 Hector drove a large fawn into Short Charles at the 

 Meadow. In this case, comparative brevity of stature 

 seemed to conduce to buck-fever, for Short Charles shook 

 to such a degree that he dropped nine shots out of his 

 magazine into the water, standing at three rods distance 

 from the fawn's head and failed to bag. The fawn 

 climbed ashore, ran down to the New Yorker at Hay- 

 bank, and, as he declared, jumped over his unfuBpecting 

 head, as he sat on the bank, into the river. He fired four 

 times at it with buckshot and never touched it; then made 

 a flying jump into his boat, nearly upsetting the tottlish 

 craft in the operation, and pursued the swimming fawn 

 down stream. Just as the little animal rounded the bend 

 and came in sight of John, at Palmer Brook — John having 

 already raised his rifle to fire — the Sportsman hove in 

 sight, directly in range with John's aim. John took down 

 his rifle just in time, and the Ampersand man, swinging 

 his boat around, put two more charges of buckshot into 

 the fawn and killed it. At this the worthy John was 

 very wroth, and swore an azure-colored oath to himself 

 that he would shoot at the next deer he saw as eoon as he 

 saw it, and no matter where it was — any way to get even 

 with the Ampersand "sport" for what he considered 

 flagrant trespass on his territory. And even before his 

 rash resolve had had time to cool, a doe was driven across 

 the upper end of the "slew" where he stood. It was 

 making for the river just above him, but John could not 

 wait, and gave it three or four running shots at lOOyds. 

 The doe, untouched, turned at once into the woods and 

 sped down the river, again taking to the water just above 

 Strong Slew Draw. This was Henry's watch ground, and 

 he, waiting till the doe came nearly opposite him, finished 

 her with a single shot straight through the brain. 



Another deer, a yearling buck, was driven in below the 

 Long Draw and shot by Lordson, the guide. This summed 

 up the day's bag for the two parties. 



Great excitement prevailed in camp that evening over 

 the recital of the day's doings. Henry and -John had 

 kept "fifteen-minute diaries" of events, and these chroni- 

 cles, with comments, were read, to the immense amuse- 

 ment of the audience. The following extracts will serve 

 to show the terse and classic style of the authors: 



"9:15 A. M. — All is quiet. A beautiful, sunny morn- 

 ing. The birds are singing all about me, and the breeze 

 playing lightly in the balsam and tamarack [the original 

 record had it 'ramatack'] trees. 9:35 A. M.— Nine guns 

 above! What can be the matter? A brief pause, and 

 then four guns more of heavier sound. I am watching 



intently for deer 2:30 P. M.— Three guns from camp. 



Signal to retm-n. 2:45 P. M. — The boys are coming up. 

 Have told story of the sportsman's trespass. Wilkins la 

 wild," etc*, etc. 



