434 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Juke 18, 1891. 



pared to prance up and down the piazza and watch the I 

 hunters bring in their game. He seems hui't when they 

 fail to appear, and as the prettiest girls in the house flash 

 by him with bare necks and gieamiufy arms, "dressed for 

 dinner," as the cannibals say, there's a look of innocent 

 wonder in his eyes. He usually has sense enou2;h, how- 

 ever, like Brer Rabbit, to "lay low an' say nuffia" until 

 mornin,?;, save of course a haughty inquiry that he puts to 

 the clerk if any of the guests are going out for deer that 

 evening. 



In the morning he hires a boat, no guide for him, thank 

 you! and goes fishing. Between nine o'clock and two he 

 has "chummed" the lake in front of the hotel thoroughly, 

 and not a bluefish to show for it. That afternoon he hires 

 a good guide, and the guide in his turn takes him out 

 back of the boat-house and talks sense to him. And the 

 consequences ai'e that he disappears from mortal ken for 

 about two weeks, when he comes back with a fine year- 

 old doe, and enough yarns to last him all winter about 

 "how he hunts caribou!" 



Paul Smith's, be it understood by the uninitiated, is the 

 most familiar place in the mountains, but at the same 

 time no one has ever found a deer over a year old curled 

 up asleep on the piazza chairs when he came down in the 

 morning, nor do partridges come regularly to be fed with 

 crumbs from your bed-room window. Instead, on the 

 contrary, the most remarkable thing about the woods 

 around this famous hotel is the total absence of animal 

 life. Not a tree toad, not a i-abbit, not even a "hopper- 

 grass" disturbs the quiet of the pines. And as for the 

 lakes and ponds abuut, what can you expect when you 

 remember that there have been three or four hundred 

 pe<^pie at this hotel at a time this summer, and all move 

 or less anxious to carry home a lish story? Paul Smith's 

 is the gathering point of a-ll the sportsmen as well as of 

 those who want only amusement, but when they want 

 gaoie they have to go from five to fifteen miles to get it, 

 usually by boat. Birch Hill, Bartlett's, Big Tupper'a, 

 these are the words you hear when the old story tellers 

 get together, and those are the places where they go, and 

 where they have successes. Even they, though, have 

 their jolly good laughs on their brother man, for it was 

 only last summer that a big broad-shouldered 6ft. surgeon 

 came up from th*^ New York Hospital to put in a week's 

 fishing at Tujtper's. Everj body liked him, he was so big 

 and jolly, but all the same everybody roared when the 

 constables chased him down to New York and wanted 

 him back up here to be fined for catching and keeping 

 trout less tlian Gin. long. 



Next to the hotel itself, which is probably one of the 

 very few in this country where nobody locks a door or a 

 trunk, where nothing has ever been stolen, and where 

 there is not a cigar in the case that sells for less than 15 

 cents straight, are the camps that face it. Smith's is at 

 the northern end of St. Regis Lake, and the Jake is li 

 miles long. Beyond this is Spiifire, and beyond that 

 again Upper Sc. Regis Lake, the three being their share 

 of the 500 lakes that lace in and out among the mountains 

 of this region. Old Paul Smith, the most charming old 

 gentleman in the world, who came in here as a guide 

 thirty-two years ago, and has probably never let the sun 

 set a day since then without t' lling a better story than 

 his neighbor, now owns 38 000 acres of woodland, ihe 

 water power and his hotel, which began with one room 

 and has now 300. On the first point that juts out into the 

 lake at the left lies an acre of land which Col Payne 

 bought last year for $1,500, and on which he proposes to 

 build a cottHge for his nephews and nieces, the children 

 of ex S cretary Whitney. At the right is the cottage of 

 Dr. A. L. Loomis, a pretty house, with boat house and 

 Ittrge private grounds. Dr. Loomis's oldest daughter left 

 here Inst week to be married on Saturday to the son of 

 Mrs. Loomis, who was formerly Mrs, Prince, His young- 

 est daughter, Mary, is the heroine of the summer with a 

 record of three deer. Straight away across the lake is 

 Camp Hoff, wherein dwells young Hoffman, the son of 

 Dean Hoffman, of Brooklyn, to whose family belongs the 

 Hoffman House of New York. Young Mr. Hoffman is 

 very tall and straight, with a deep bass voice and a cre- 

 scendo laugh wh oh certainly has a range of two octaves. 

 On Sunday he always seats the people who come to the 

 tiny Episcopal church and takes up the collection, and 

 declares he takes sal volatile whenever by chance he hears 

 the vulgar rattle of a coin on the plate," used as he is to 

 only the modest "sish!" of the $5 bill. At night his camp 

 is as great a source of admiration to the people at the 

 hotel as indeed is the wonderful milky way that on clear 

 nights is so brilliant that it casts a gleaming shadow the 

 whole length of the lake. Every night Camp Hoff is 

 brilliantly illaminated with red and white lights that 

 form a cross as gigantic as the towering pines. Other 

 illuminations are attempted, but all pale before this 

 "churchly symbol" of his father's calling. In Spitfire 

 Lake the moat noted camp is that of Dr. E. L. Trudeau, 

 the noted specialist in lung troubles, who has doubtless 

 done more than any other man to give the Adirondacks 

 the name they have for being a natural sanitarium. 



But it is in the upper St. Regis that the tongue of the 

 enthusiastic Paul Smith runs away with itself, "I never 

 saw anything like it! There's not a foot of land on that 

 lake for sale this minute, and there's not a man in it but 

 what's a millionaire, and some of them ten times over. 

 There's that camp there, do you mind, that camp rented 

 this summer to H. McKay Twombly for $5,000, and now 

 he's bought land and has got seventy five men clearing it 

 and they will work all winter. There are the Stokeses, 

 millionaires, all of 'em, and George Dodge, as nice a man 

 as ever i)ut his foot into a boat. There are the Lymans, 

 there's Whltelaw Reid's and there's the Garrett's. I tell 

 you if there's a spot on the face of the earth where mil- 

 lionaires go to play at house keeping in log cabins and 

 tents as they do here I have it yet to hear about," 



And what Paul Smith has yet to hear about or yet to 

 learn in the way of making money nobody here can sug- 

 gest. His own last story indeed he tells on himself, and 

 a good adaptation it is. 



"By the way," he said, as he sauntered up in his inim- 

 itable way, thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, his 

 soft hat over his ear and one eye shut. "I suppose you 

 haven't heard about the guides, have you." 



Nobody had heard. 



"Well it seems," said Paul, "that it's been a hard sum- 

 mer for some of the guides, and they took it into their 

 heads to turn stage robbers. They held up the coachf ul 

 that went away from here yesterday afternoon. But the 

 driver he knew what they were up to. 'You want folks 

 from Rainbow Lake,' he says; 'these folks just got away 



from Paul, up here. You don't think he left 'em any- 

 thing but their tickets to get home with , do y ex? G'lang !' " 



Fannie B, Merrill. 



Paul Smith's, 1890. 



A REMINISCENCE OF 1866. 



NOT long since, while in the barnlof t, overhauling the 

 contents of a box of what my good wife calls "plun- 

 der," I came across an old time shooting coat, cast aside 

 years ago as having passed beyond its days of uaefulnees. 

 This now decidedly antique garment was made up during 

 the "late unpleasantness,'' while the writer was serving 

 Uncle Sam, having charge of the post commissary at 

 Louisville, issuing rations to the boys in blue stationed in 

 or about Falls City and to the transient regiments passing 

 southward on their way to the front. This same old 

 coat saw much hard service thereafter, in many an ex- 

 I^edition by land and water in pursuit of game, over a 

 territory extending from the Adirondacks to the Illinois 

 prairies and down thfe Mississippi Valley to the Louisiana 

 swamps. 



To-day. the once warm woolen lining bears unmistak- 

 able evidence of having furnished the off-pring of divers 

 moths with bed and board, the buttons have gone to swell 

 the collection on a string, manipulated by a pet daughter; 

 and the remnants generally present a most forelorn ap- 

 pearance, but despite this, I was unable to resist the in- 

 clination to hold it out at arm's length, and there I fell 

 to meditating on a dark brown stain which sundry wash- 

 ings and vigorous rubbings had signally failed to elimin- 

 ate, and which is plainly to be seen, stretched diagonally 

 across the bacli, downward from the left shoulder. This 

 stain called vividly to mind a campaign in the North 

 Woods, nearly a quarter of a century ago. 



Four of us, a liappy four indeed, filled with joyous 

 anticipations of a right royal vacation, had gone in by 

 way of Glens Falls, Chester, Nevvcomb and Long Lake, 

 thence via Helm's on Forked Lake to Beach's Lake, near 

 the northern end of which we established our camp. 



Delightful wrre the days we passed there, restful, j)ro- 

 lific of added vigor to minds and bodies. Our camp was 

 just such a one as the good Nessmuk idealized — a haven 

 of contentment, of rest from the cares and troubles of the 

 world — absolute rest. "We fished and caught an ample 

 supply for creature wants, but nothing more. We 

 wandered abr.ut the woods and paddled around the lakes 

 exploring every hidden nook, each day affording some 

 fresh source of enjoyment, until all too soon time was up, 

 and perforce we returned to the haunts of plug hats, 

 starched shirts and never failing gas bills. 



The early morning hours Uhualiy found us out in the 

 boats on one of the numerous lakes or "ponds," as the 

 nomenclature has it, testing every device to lure the wary 

 trout from the clear, cold depths; and when old Sol was 

 doing his whole duty at midday, it needed no other in- 

 ducement to urge us to seek some shady spot, and after 

 lunch to rest, chat or perhaps read, till his more oblique 

 rays warned us that the chances were again good for a 

 bite. So after an afternoon of executive session with 8. 

 fontinalis or perhaps a lively laker, we would return to 

 camp, cut the night's wood, eat such a hearty meal as 

 oniy hungry anglers could devour, and then with a quiet 

 smoke prepare to turn in and wage relentless war on the 

 festive mo-quito. 



One pleasant afternoon with Frank, a boon companion 

 and as good a fallow as ever pulled a trigger or cast a 

 hook, I started on an exj^edition to a small lake, some dis- 

 tance eastward from camp, for the express purpose of try- 

 ing our skill on certain extra large trout which were 

 reported to have their abiding place therein, for a supply of 

 such was sorely needed to replenish our depleted larder, 

 the solemn fact being, no fish, no supper. Each of us 

 was filled with stern resolve, much like the boy of the story, 

 who with laudable purpose was striving to dig out the 

 woodchuck. So on reaching our distinction, no time was 

 lost in launching the boat and paddling out to a locality 

 where the water was cold and deep. 



"With varying success we had at last brought to basket 

 some seven or eight splendid fellows, when chancing to 

 look toward the upper end of the lake, we saw a deer 

 coming out of the woods into plain view on a small grassy 

 marsh, which lay on either side of the inlet. 



Fortunately I had my rifle in the boat, one of the old 

 Colts six-shooters, a .44; and it was quickly planned that 

 Frank should paddle toward the inlet as' carefully and 

 noiselessly as possible, while I was to retain my seat at 

 the bow, ready for a fusilade. 



The excitement was almost too much for me. It was 

 still broad daylight. Sitting in a somewhat cramped 

 position, afraid to move, lest some slight noise might 

 alarm the watchful deer, every nerve at its utmost tension 

 I felt liable to an attack of "buck fever" on the slightest 

 provocation. 



Silently we approached the goal and when some 150yds. 

 distant, I became fearful that a further advance might 

 cause the deer to make a run for the woods, as it fre- 

 quently raised its head to watch us, so after progressing 

 perhaps 1 5 or 20y ds. , I signalled Frank to "hold water" and 

 steady the boat, then quickly elevating the rear sight 

 and drawing a bead as carefully as might be, I fired. The 

 deer was then standing in the shallow water a few feet 

 from the shore, broadside toward us; and immediately 

 following the sharp crack of the rifle we saw a splash in 

 the water, apparently under the deer, which in an instant, 

 with a few graceful bounds was out of sight in the fringe 

 of low bushes surrounding the swampy ground and 

 separating it from the denser growth of timber. "You've 

 muffed it this time," shouted Frank; but after a short 

 consultation we decided to investigate, and rowing up to 

 the edge of the marsh we noticed a few short hairs float- 

 ing on the water. This raised our hopes materially, so 

 we landed and followed the recent track through the long 

 grass, when just as we were about to enter the outer line 

 of the bushes, a great spatter of blood on leaves and grass 

 attracted our attention. Hastily but cautiously tracking 

 the now frequent signs, we suddenly came in sight of our 

 game lying dead at the foot of a tree. 



A hasty examination showed that the ball had entered 

 j ust in the rear of the left shoulder, and ranging slightly 

 downward, passing out on the opposite side, doubtless 

 falling into the water and causing the splash which was 

 so noticeable from the boat. 



It was not long before we had the deer suspended from 

 a convenient limb and after partially dressing we carried 

 it to the shore and placed it in the boat. Pushing off, we 

 hurriedly paddled down the lake; it was long past sunset 

 1 when the landing was reached and our craft was securely 



beached. It was fairly dark when I shouldered the deer 

 for a mile tramp to Beach's Lake, Frank carrying the 

 rifle, rods and fish; and it was during this never-to-be-for- 

 gotien scramble through the woods, over fallen trees and 

 every other known obstacle, that my old coat absorbed 

 the blood stains which were there unto this day. 



Of Frank's jokes, which I must confess seemed very 

 untimely and altogether uncalled for on that particular 

 march, and of our triumphal entry into camp, tired and 

 hungry, I need not dilate: but, brother eportsmen, you 

 who "have been there," I know you will not blame me 

 for still cherishing the old coat and quie'ly enjoying the 

 pleasant meditations which these recollections have in- 

 duced. This w^as the only time I ever successfully stalked 

 a deer, and with a boat. The wind was blowing down the 

 lake, and this no doubt contributed largely to my success. 

 This achievement has always been the source of a certain 

 amount of pardonable pride, but I cannot help realizing 

 that had it not been for Frank's handling the boat so skill- 

 fully, my chances for a shot would have been decidedly 

 slim. Since that time I have frequently endeavored to 

 repeat the exi^erience and never but once succeeded in 

 reaching reasonable rifle range, and then failed to score 

 a hit. 



I am growing old, but the love of the woods, the fields 

 and the waters is as strong within me as ever, and each 

 season finds me looking forward to an outing and making- 

 preparations therefor, with as much zest as in the yewra 

 gone by, Senior. 



ON A BLAZED TRAIL. 



" A LL ready!" exclaimpd our guide. "Got all your 

 XjL traps? One of you gentlemen strap this pack bas- 

 ket on my shoulders. Now we're off." 



Our course was over rugged mountains covered with 

 thick underbrush, whose fuliage was tinted with autumn's 

 sombre colors, drab and brown, a hue very fortunate for 

 the deer, its shade being almost the same. We had a 

 long and tedious journey of about fifteen miles to make 

 before we could reach Otter Lake, at which place we in- 

 tended setting out the dogs and commencing the hunt in 

 earnest. On we trudged, now and then casting an ad- 

 miring glance at the sturdy form and powerful physique 

 of our guide, who, by the way, was a genuine backwoods- 

 man and hunter, a real man. His business is not a profit- 

 able one but there was a vast quantity of sport in it for 

 him. His light face and merry laughter, and his quaint 

 and winning way of relating an exciting tale, have made 

 him very popular in this pa-hless wilderness. 



As we plunged deeper into the forest an occasional 

 mirror-like lake would spring up before us, as if by 

 magic, whose water was cool and sparkling; in fact, the 

 t-urrounding region was studded with the grandest lakes 

 in the world, romantic in everything but their names. It 

 was near the shore of one of these lakes that we encount- 

 ered our first and largest deer. 



We had not traveled more than five or six miles when 

 we noticed that the dogs were getting very uneasy, seem- 

 ingly anxious to break away from the strong arm that 

 kept them in leash. Several times they halted and 

 snuft'ed the air, thus showing, as our guide informed us, 

 that the game we were in search of was not far distant, 

 and that we had better station ourselves along the shore 

 of the lake, about one hundred yards apart. This being 

 done he took both hounds and started to find the trail, we 

 in the mean time patiently waiting the issue. 



We made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances 

 would permit. I was located on a fresh runway, 

 evidently used the day before (judging from the clear 

 impressions on the earth) and stood the best chance of 

 getting first shot. However, I cnuld not be positive, as 

 deer are very tricky animals. Owing to the terrible gur- 

 gling and rumbling of a large waterfall close by me, I 

 knew that it would be absolutely impossible to hear the 

 approaching bay of the hounds. 



Three or four hours elapsed, I was beginning to feel 

 very tired and was about to arrange my coat for a head 

 rest when an obji^ot in the distance attracted my attention, 

 which, upon coming closer proved to be a magnificent 

 buck, the finest specimen I had ever seen. He waded 

 gx-acefully through the water and when within about five 

 rods of me turned and walked toward the shore. Having 

 a good Winchester repeating rifle of .44-cal., it seemed as 

 though it would be impossible to miss my aim, but nerv- 

 ousness got the better of me; raising the piece to a level 

 with my shoulder and taking, as I thought, an excellent- 

 sight, 1 pulled the trigger, but to my dismay it failed to 

 respond. Examining my rifle I saw my mistake, the 

 trigger was at half cock. Instantly leveling it again, 

 fully assured that everything was all right, I fired, the 

 ball striking the deer in the back of the neck and slightly 

 wounding him. He staggered for a moment and before 1 

 could raise my piece, made a spring over the alders that 

 fringed the shore of the lake and was gone. Jumping to 

 my feet I persued the com-ae he had taken as near as pos- 

 sible, thinking perhaps that the loss of blood would soon 

 weaken him and thus impede his progress. 



Following the trail for half a mde, I suddenly came 

 across our guide, who, extremely amazed at my unex- 

 pected appearance, chuckled at my "peculiar way of 

 chasin' that air chunk of venzon, and that I might's well 

 stayed where he sot me, 'cause the game had tuk to water 

 by this time." 



He had hardly completed his sentence when both 

 hounds shot by. We endeavored to stop them, but it was 

 of no use; they were bent on following up the trail. 

 Shortly afterward they came back and we started them on 

 anew. Both dogs were off in an instant, and our guide 

 then directed me to a large rock at the northern end of 

 the lake, there to watch until he should give the signal 

 for all to assemble and continue the journey. 



I had not gone more than SOOyds., when suddenly I 

 heard the cracking of brush. Stopping short and peering 

 into the dense forest my eyes encountered a deer but a 

 short distance away. Sighting my piece, I fired, causing 

 the animal to leap once or twice high in the air and then 

 fall heavily on the ground. 



Examination proved him to be dead. To my amaze- 

 ment I recognized the same buck that I had previously 

 shot at not more than twenty minutes ago, I was also- 

 surprised to see that my second discharge had struck in 

 nearly the same spot, but the bill having glanced had 

 come out through the right shoulder. 



The delight of chat moment I shall never forget. I had 

 actually killed a deer! The next thing to do was to in- 

 form the rest of the party. I fired five rounds, which 

 Boon brought them to the spot. Then followed the usual 



