432 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 18, 1891. 



of the rapida. Long Charles shot once and twice without 

 touching the antlered beauty, but his third ball struck in 

 the upper part of the neck, on or near the spinal cord, 

 an^d the buck doubled up in the water and was dead in an 

 instant. Long Charles had no boat, but fortunately a 

 party was just coming over the carry. Their boats had 

 been brought over, but no oars or paddlea; so they took 

 neck-yokes, and paddling with these into the current, 

 saved Long Charles's handsome buck from going down 

 the rapids. He was a fine four-pronged fellow, and must 

 have weighed considerably over two hundred. 



Those of us who were down stream heard the signal for 

 return fired four times at about noon. This indicated 

 trouble in camp, and we all hurried up to learn the cause. 

 It soon transpired. McClellan's lawless cows had paid a 

 visit to the camp and left everything in a state of piteous 

 desolation. The tents were half torn down, the dishes 

 were trampled into the earth, boxes and bags were scat- 

 teted and rifled of their contents. Among the things 

 devoured by the ravenous herd were two large cakes of 

 soap, eight pounds of sugar and three pounds of butter, 

 one-half bushel of onions, two quarts of beans, half a 

 bushel of potatoes, ten pounds of ci-ackers, five pounds of 

 meal, two dozen eggs, six pounds of fat pork, half a box 

 of .38cal. cartridges and a sheet of biscuits. When Frank 

 and Short Charles reached camp, one of the cows had 

 just attacked the medicine chest and two others were 

 pawing over the blankets to see if any portion of them 

 were edible. 



That afternoon Henry, who always made himself use- 

 ful, took boat immediately and started for Wardner's to 

 get fresh supplies. He walked across the carry, made Ms 

 purchases, and then discovered that he had nothing in 

 which to carry the groceries to his boat. A bright thought 

 seized him, Ofi: came his overalls. A bit of string around 

 each ankle converted the garment into a bifurcated knap- 

 sack. In went the groceries, the top of the sack was tied 

 up, and Henry marched back across the carry with a 

 stuffed canvas leg over each shoulder. Conventionalities 

 he hanged, when men are camping and out of supplies! 



Uncle Jack found Hector and Sport at the Haybank 

 and broiight them up to camp, so that all the dogs were 

 in on the evening of the fifteenth day, except old Trail. 

 On the sixteenth day our three dogs ran two deer in above 

 the rapids. Other parties were watching there, including 

 a red-shirted guide by the name of Buck, and a man in a 

 big coon-skin overcoat. These parties persisted in travel- 

 ing back and forth in their boats, following the dogs. At 

 one time a deer was swimming straight down stream to 

 one of our men, when around the bend flashed like a 

 meteor the fiery shirt of the guide Buck. The deer saw 

 it in an instant and turned for shore. The man on the 

 runway fired at long range and missed, and immediately 

 hot words passed between him and the peripatetic meteor. 

 There was a red-whiskered man in the same boat with 

 tue red-shirted man, and how in the world they ever ex- 

 pected to approach a deer with so much high color at both 

 ends is a puzzle. All they needed was a red boat to per- 

 form the proverbial feat of setting the river on fire. 



Later in the day Jube and Hector drove a doe up the 

 river. The race passed quite near to Frank, though he 

 could not see the deer through the thick underbrush. As 

 he was trying to catch the dogs ofi:" two shots came from 

 Short Charles's watchground, above. Frank rowed up 

 and found a nice fat doe lying in Short Charles's boat. 

 This settled forever that gentleman's status as a rifleman , 

 and he will never be jeered again for missing his first 

 deer at three rods. 



The next day was Saturday and the last of the hunt. 

 Henry, Uncle" Jack and the Scribe went above the falls, 

 the rest of the party took stands below. It was a rainy 

 day and very dismal. Early in the forenoon the red- 

 shirted Buck and his red-whiskered companion again ap- 

 peared upon the scene above the rapids. They had two 

 dogs out, and were pursuing the same tactics as on the 

 previous day. After they had passed Heme's watch- 

 ground three or four times, righteous wrath began to rise 

 in that individual's breast. He let them drop around 

 the bend below him and then fired five shots at irregular 

 intervals, as if popping at deer.- Immediately the red 

 combination swung around and the water was churned 

 into foam as the carmine-shirted oarsman propelled his 

 boat agahist the current. Henry sat upon his rock and 

 laughed inwardly, 



"Did you fire those shots?" asked Buck as his boat 

 came opi)osite. 



"I don't know as it matters anything to you if I did," 

 was Henry's non-committal reply. "Look here, neigh- 

 bor," he continued, "1 have heard of your tactics and I 

 have got your record down fine. Now let me give you a 

 little piece of advice. If you put in an appearance when 

 a deer is in my water I will fix it directly so that you can 

 see the bed of the river through the bottom of your boat, i 

 You imderstand? Well, good morning." The red-shirted 

 guide turned his boat down stream, grumbling, and did 

 not appear on Henry's territory again that day. 



Frank saw and shot his first deer of the trip at the 

 Meadow — bagged it at the eleventh hour and came near 

 losing it at that. He was in his boat when the deer first 

 came down. He heard a crash in the timber and knew 

 at once what it meant. Rising a little to look over the 

 bank, the treacherous seat cracked, and the deer turned 

 in an instant and dashed into the woods again. Frank 

 thought it was lost for good, but the dogs were close be- 

 hind, and the deer ran only about a quarter of a mile up 

 stream, when it again came to water and began to swim 

 down. When it had come within about 80yds. of the 

 watcher something startled it and it turned to go out. 

 Frank risked three shots at long range,and the third proved 

 fatal, just as the deer was raising its shoulders to leave 

 the water. 



Next day we broke camp, carrying three deer with us. 

 A long, hard row brought us to Saranac village, at about 

 six o'clock P. M., and next day we went out by rail to 

 Plattsburg. Here the two Charleses, who had had most 

 of the luck during the trip, treated the party to a supper 

 at the Cumberland House. Next day we separated and 

 went our several ways, full of kindly feelings toward 

 each other and happy memories of our three weeks hunt 

 on the Raquette. May it not be the last hunt we shall 

 have together, when the mountains are crimson and 

 gold with their autumn livery, and the grass whitens 

 with morning frost, and the voices of the hounds, baying 

 in leash at the guide's belt, echo through the woods like 

 the horns of our Saxon forefathers, from whom we in- 

 herit this unquenchable love of vigox'oxia and manly wood- 

 land sport. Paul Pastnor. 



PRIMEVAL ADIRONDACKS. 



NOWADAYS one hears continually of such Adiron- 

 dack resorts as Blue Mountain Lake, the Saranacs, 

 Raquette Lake, Schroon Lake, 'Loon Lake, Keene Val- 

 ley, Ausable Chasm and Paul Smith's to the entire ex- 

 clusion of other points; we note their prominent visitors, 

 their gay dances and high order of tennis tournaments; 

 we catch softly whispered rumors of social matters in 

 advance and are amazed at the quiet consummation there 

 of big deals commercially; in fact the wilderness, once 

 great for its primeval wilds and profusion of game, is 

 fast being brought into narrower limits by a ruthless in- 

 evitable march of civilization. Railroads are building or 

 being projected into the darker recesses of the forest, 

 tempted alone by the revenue to be derived from lumber- 

 ing interests, for passenger receipts would be for years 

 insignificant. Unless arrested at once by wise State 

 legislation the great danger from the woodsman's axe 

 will be beyond reparation. 



Beyond the range of civilization, off in the northwest- 

 ern reserve of the Adirondacks, silently nestles Smith's 

 Lake. It is sixty miles east of Lowville, half of which 

 distance can be made by water, and there is no great 

 difficulty in transporting necessary baggage, provided 

 one is prepared to pay not inconsiderably to teamsters 

 and the after employment of guides. From other direc- 

 tions the lake can" be reached, but not so easily as via 

 Lowville. The next most feasible way is from Little 

 Tupper's Lake, fifteen miles off, by carry and water. 

 Like all the lakes and ponds of the region, Smith's Lake 

 has many beauties. All around is a boundless forest of 

 tall variegated trees, towering unbrokenly to the sum- 

 mits of the surrounding mountains. On three sides these 

 rugged sejitinels, like impassable barriers, wall in the 

 lake, while on the other, where the stream from the 

 Salmon LaJie empties, grasses and pond-lilies grow out 

 for some distance; this spot is much cherished by the 

 deer as a feeding ground. Smith's Lake is quite irregu- 

 lar in shape, is some four miles each way and is shaped 

 like the letter X; it contains seven islands, and even to- 

 day upon Pine Island traces are apparent of an old In- 

 dian fortress. On the west side of the lake is a sports- 

 man's lodge, the home for eight months of the year of 

 James LaMont, one of the most fearless of hunters and as 

 genial a forest companion as one could find. He is pre- 

 pared to accommodate about forty persons in an always 

 comfortable but decidedly backwoods manner. 



Smith's Lake is nearly the center of a circumference of 

 country not as yet thoroughly explored, consequently it 

 has remained unmarred by the cruel axe. Nearest on the 

 west is Harrington Pond, beyond which are Clear Pond 

 and Bog Lake; on the north are Charley Pond and the 

 Snell Ponds; on the east, by pushing up an eight-mile 

 stream, one finds Mud Pond, then the Salmon Lakes, and 

 finally Brandreth Lake; on the south, only three miles 

 away, is grand, silent Albany Lake, six miles in length 

 and consijicuous for its vast deer feeding territory. 

 Directly back of LaMont's, two miles off, is Raynor Pond, 

 a mere speck of water, and seldom visited because of the 

 indistinctness of the blazing on the trees and the absence 

 of a trail. It is fortunate for one's headquarters in the 

 forest to be in proximity to other bodies of water, as an 

 adjunct to sport and transportation; also is it fortunate to 

 find mountains, lakes and streams existing as the intelli- 

 gent hound would mould them were he to create an ideal 

 hunting ground for the capture of deer. One thing is 

 certain. Smith's Lake and its surrounding coimtry is ex- 

 ceedingly well situated. There is no lake in the whole 

 Adirondacks where one can feel so well pleased with the 

 conditions for hounding deer. I have seen as many as 

 eight separate drives into the waters at comparatively the 

 same time; and perhaps there was not some sport for us 

 then, too! 



I left the vitiated air of New York behind me on the 

 20th of last September, bound on my fourteenth annual 

 trip to those woods. With me were two companions, 

 Charles L. Jacquelin and Felix A. Duffy, of New York, 

 who were by no means unfamiliar with forest ways, 

 while both were good at target and trap, as well as fau-ly 

 excellent anglers. At Utica we took the Utica & Black 

 River Railroad, and after a two hours' run arrived at 

 Lowville about 9 A. M. After driving easterly from Low- 

 ville twelve miles we entered the forest; then the road 

 was tough enough to jar one's bones and loosen one's 

 tongue most savagely. By evening we pulled up at Jim 

 Dunbar's, having stopped for dinner at Fenton's. Dun- 

 bar's, the only house at Stillwater, is well kept and a 

 favorite place to many; there we got our first venison 

 steak and a comfortable lodging. 



In the morning we engaged two guides — ReuTown and 

 Ed. Dustin, of Long Lake-^who by the merest chance 

 happened to have come there with sportsmen who they 

 had brought out. It game me an undreamed of oppor- 

 tunity of securing two of the best men in the region, men 

 whom I had had before, who were familiar with my 

 desires and who I knew could be relied upon in any 

 emergency. They took us twenty-five miles up Beaver 

 River to Munsey's place at Little Rapids, where a stop 

 was made for dinner, and mighty well cooked and appre- 

 ciated was it, too. A mile portage, seven miles up Albany 

 Lake, another portage of a mile around more rapids, and 

 we again put into the river; then, two miles more and 

 we glided into Smith's Lake. What a glorious panorama 

 it was, 



We duly installed ourselves at La Mont's, for while 

 there were bark camps at or near the lake, where one 

 with a fire could be cheerful and comfortable; still, we 

 decided to stay with Jim, for by stopping at such a place 

 the guides can always give more time to their men. One 

 should never take more luggage than is absolutely neces- 

 sary. The guides carry their boats, oars and paddles, so, 

 unless the carries are double-tracked, the remaining 

 duffle must be transported by the sportsmen in big pack 

 baskets strapped securely to the back, in which weight 

 never decreases. 



A deer hunt was very properly in order for the next 

 morning. I went with Reu to Albany Lake, taking two 

 of the four dogs with us, for Reu was going to "put out" 

 somewhere between Smith's Lake and Albany Lake. At 

 the former the others took up their watch ground, an ex- 

 tra boat having been secured from La Mont — thus cover- 

 ing all the likely points. However competent the man 

 who looks for fresh deer tracks and unchains the hounds, 

 the chances of success can be spoiled completely at the 

 last moment by any noise at the watch grounds. 



For almost an hour I waited, listening for sounds of 



the hounds, or the splash of a deer driven far in advance 

 of them jjerhaps. Never for a moment did my eyes 

 wander from the shore where a deer was likely to be 

 driven. What a zest to the sport were the faint notes 

 that shortly reached me; then, it was verily exciting! 

 Nearer and nearer came the sounds, every bound bring- 

 ing out the tones more clearly; ah, this is glorious, for 

 the almost inaudible murmur of but a moment before 

 has now swelled into sharp, deep, unceasing baying. On, 

 on, toward that expectant shore did the maddened racers 

 rush. I heard the cracking of brush in the forest near 

 the lake, a noisy rusthng of the bushes, then a plunge, a 

 splash, and the deer was in the water swimming for his 

 life. I lost no time in seating myself in the boat and 

 pushing oft\ Thank fortune, ft was a buck, that I could 

 plainly see. It was a fierce struggle for both of us, and I 

 had to pull fast, especially when he heard me and veered 

 over to the nearest shore at an increased speed. All this 

 time Pompey, who had reached the lake, was far from 

 an indifferent spectator, still keeping up an irregular 

 barking. The buck almost bad his feet on the shore 

 when I got near enough to risk dropping the oars and to 

 fire upon him. The ball entering the shoulder, instantly 

 did its work. I had to row a full mile in this race, which 

 was unusually risky because of the innumerable rocks, 

 too low to show above the water and most dangerous 

 even to a cool head. The satisfaction I felt over that 

 victory was, I believe, somewhat justified. Soon Reu 

 got back, and we dressed the deer and leisurely returned 

 to Smith's Lake with oiu- heavy load of game. The buck 

 was a big fellow. Reu thought he would weigh fully 

 SOOlbs. before dressing. The hide was in the blue coat, 

 while on the head rested a five-pronged pair of prettily 

 set antlers. All this time my friends on the other lake 

 had not been inactive, a fair sized doe having been driven 

 to them, they had lots of sport, too, but I say to their 

 credit they drove her out unharmed. There is an un- 

 written law among true sportsmen to allow the does to 

 escape. I am glad to be able to state that that law is 

 stringently obeyed at Smith's Lake; indeed, Jim LaMont 

 will have no one around his place who violates this 

 custom. 



Personally, I prefer killing one deer by still-hunting at 

 sunrise or sunset on the border of a lake than six driven 

 to me by the dogs. If by the stalking and jacklight 

 methods the sportsman gets within shotgun range, above 

 ail let him not wound the poor escaping animal instead. 

 Be it said in defense of hounding that it does prevent 

 wounding and spares the does. I doubt if the game laws 

 ever will be enforced rigidly in the Adirondacks, owing 

 to the immense territory to be covered and the not infre- 

 quent leniency of constables toward favorites. Despite 

 everything, however, the deer are certainly increasing; I 

 base this statement upon the most careful information 

 gathered from the most reliable sources and upon per- 

 sonal observations. 



May and June are the rhonths that always give most 

 delight to anglers, and the Adirondack waters at such 

 times give sport in plenty to those who know just where 

 the speckled denizens abound and how to cope with them 

 in cunning. Many spring parties go to the Smith's Lake 

 section just as soon as the ice breaks up, prominent 

 among them being Theodore S. Morrell, Esq., of Newark, 

 N. J. Not only is Air. Morrell an expert fisherman but, 

 probably, he possesses as complete a knowledge of fish 

 and their habits as any sportsman in this country ; and 

 who is there who will not vote him to be as jollj^ and 

 good natured a companion as ever sat in a boat? Last 

 May, Reii Town tellg me, Mr. Morrell did some great fly- 

 fishing for speckled trout at a spring hole in Smith's 

 Inlet, six miles from Smith's Lake, where he used very 

 light tackle, and landed some beauties as heavy as 3|lbs. 



There is Kttle satisfaction, perhaps, in recording any 

 other method of fishing except exploits in fly-casting; 

 but as I have never done any spring fishing in the wilder- 

 ness, and after daily trials during summer and fall have 

 met with no success there, some other pen will have to 

 interest the reader in that regard. Still, there verily was 

 sport this year playing with these salmon trout at the 

 mouth of the Harrington inlet, where the swift waters 

 emptied over the mossy rocks into Smith's. Would that 

 I could rename Smith's Lake, giving it some euphonious, 

 poetic Indian name; for, as I recall that one spot and 

 hear the roaring waters, I verily believe that for a little 

 bit of lake scenery nothing in the whole North Woods 

 surpasses it. My fishing was with one of the fii'st split- 

 bamboo rods Charley Mui-phy ever made, weighing 7oz., 

 and many a fish did I capture ranging between 1^ and 

 51bs. One morning early, as Jacquelin was rowing me 

 near to Fletcher Island, I threw out for a short troll with 

 minnow bait; in a most indolent manner too, for our 

 chances were unpromising. We had forgotten to bring 

 either gaff or landing-net, or my predicament would have 

 been spared. Never in my life did I have such a struggle. 

 What vitality that fellow had! Surely it was the struggle 

 of his life, too. Not knowing how firmly he was hooked 

 I was obliged to use especial care, realizing the absence of 

 needed appliances. Of actual time forty-two minutes 

 were consumed before I dared allow my friend assist in 

 landing him by cautiously slipping his hand behind the 

 fish's fins. The scales showed his weight to be C^lbs. 

 I would travel miles upon miles to have another such 

 experience; and where, indeed, is the true angler who 

 would not? 



Few men sleep late in the forest. The change from 

 the solemn dirge of the night to the gay joyous song of 

 the morning, as note after note peals forth to welcome 

 the rising day, is too exhilarating to admit of the contin- 

 uance of slumber. A plunge in the lake relieves the 

 slight lassitude which may hang upon one, and there are 

 those who make such the regular order of the day; on 

 the other hand, the guides say, that there are some per- 

 sons who visit the woods who never enter the lake at all 

 to bathe because of the coolness of the water, their 

 alleged fear of water reptiles, or some equally absurd 

 pretext. The story is told of a prominent Newark lawyer 

 who, when at Smith's Lake, never washes as much even 

 as his face, lest by temporarily removing a mosquito 

 mixture his beauty and feelings might be hurt. My in- 

 formant, never having seen our barrister out of the wild- 

 erness, and being recently introduced in Newark, was 

 dumbfounded at the change purification revealed, and 

 for a while positively thought himself the victim of a 

 practical joke. 



At night people in the forest generally build log fires 

 in front of their cabins. After Sept. 1 this is a positive 

 necessity, especially if one's habitation be the open camp. 



