346 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 14, 1893, 



AN EXPERIENCE AT VERMILLION.-l. 



MEMORANDA OF THE EXPEDITION OF H. W. AND T. 

 TO VERMILLION LAKE, MINNESOTA. 



ON Aug. 31, Sam and myself left Chicago. At Mil- 

 waukee we were joined by Harvey, aDd thence 

 proceeded to Duluth, Minn., where we arrived at 12:45 

 P. M. the next day, Sept. 1. The train for Tower left 

 Duluth at 9:50 P k M. While waiting for the train we 

 dispatcher! Sam back to the city to procure some grub. 

 At Two Harbors, where we arrived at 6:30 P. M., we 

 again transferred our baggage and took a caboose at the 

 end of an ore train. Had no supper other than the 

 crackers and grapes procured bv Sam in Duluth. At 12 

 o'clock at night we reached Tower Yards. Turned in 

 about 1 o'clock in the morning pretty welL fagged out. 



On the following day (Sept. 2) L. B. Cleaves, with 

 whom we had been in communication on the subject of 

 guides, etc. , came to the hotel before we had had our 

 breakfast, prepared to outfit us to anv extent. We 

 bought from Cleaves a birch canoe for $7 and rejected 

 the guide whom he had sent us, his price, $5 per day and 

 found, being altogether too steep. 



A wagon carried our traps down to the landing, and 

 there we made a dicker with the wharfinger in charge to 

 hire us an extra canoe and man to carry oar outfit to our 

 first camp, which we had resolved to locate at or near 

 the mouth of the stream leading from Vermillion to Trout 

 Lake. We also picked up a guide, Chas. Jessmore by 

 name, who seemed to be a clean, gentlemanly sort of 

 fellow, and whose ideas as to the value of his services 

 ($3) were moderate enough to suit us. It was about 10 

 o'clock when we started. Our packs, tents, provisions, 

 etc, , were divided between the two birch canoes. Jess- 

 more occupied the canoe purchased from Cleaves and 

 carried with him most of the provision boxes. Sam, 

 Harvey and myself followed in my cedar canoe, Harvey 

 being at the oars, Sam wielding the steering paddle, and 

 myself holding the map and conning the course. The day 

 was bright and warm, with a rather fresh breeze blowing 

 from the southeast. Our course lay westerly between 

 Ely's Island and the southern shore, between the islands 

 that taper off Crate Point, through the narrows of Minne- 

 sota Point, and the western extremity of Pine Island; 

 then due east between the northern shore and the main- 

 land for about two miles. 



It was two o'clock, and we were hungry and wearied, 

 and no indications of our destination could be seen. The 

 canoes were far astern and would not close up, and in 

 sheer desperation we at last ran ashore at the first avail- 

 able clearing, and announced that we would camp there. 

 It was not a good camping ground ("It was the worst 

 place on the lake"— comment by the guide), being too 

 shaded: but we were in no mood to look further for a 

 better location. The canoes landed, we took a hasty 

 dinner, our supernumerary departed, and we set about 

 making camp. Jessmore took the axe and struck into 

 the wood to cut browse for our beds. The rest of us 

 cleared the ground of the underbrush, erected one tent, 

 and succumbed. Our energies were about exhausted for 

 that day, and for the several hours succeeding we simply 

 lay around doing as little as possible — that little being of 

 the selfish character pertaining to oersonal comfort. We 

 turned in that night about eight o'clock. 



The day following (Sent. 3) my eyes opened on the 

 world about 5 o'clock A. M. I had slept well and was 

 feeling reasonably comfortable. I got up, took the cedar 

 and rowed eastwardly along the shore, and at not more 

 than a quarter of a mile distant from our camp found the 

 small indenture of Trout Lake Elver. Up this stream , 

 through the rushes which clustered at its mouth, I rowed 

 until my boat became entangled among the rocks incum- 

 bering the ehannel, where a small rapid betokened the 

 presence of the falls, whose roar I could hear not far 

 distant, but could not see as they were concealed by a 

 turn in the stream, I returned to camp. The boys were 

 up, and Jessmore had the breakfast well under way. I 

 essayed to help Jessmore, and attempted to make the 

 usual flap-j^cks out of corn meal and flour, but my suc- 

 cess was nil. I had forgotten all that I ever knew about 

 cooking, and thenceforth meddled no more in that de- 

 partment. We all fell to work clearing up the camp. 

 There was considerable underbrush to be cut away before 

 we could have room to turn around. That done we set 

 up the other tent, carried the provisions, boxes and ket- 

 tles in there, and turned the whole outfit over to Jess- 

 more. Out own tent was given an additional layer of 

 browse; some poles and racks for our various belongings 

 were fitted up, and that done Sam and I put off in the 

 cedar and dragged a trolling line along the western shore 

 until six fish, wall-eyed pike and pickerel, rewarded our 

 patience. 



In the afternoon Harvey and Jessmore paddled off to a 

 distant point in the west, where Harvey landed, and 

 shouldering his shotgun started off through the woods 

 for partridges. " Jessmore returned to camp. Sam and I 

 went down to Trout Lake River in the birch canoe and 

 ascended the stream to the falls. It is a small affair. The 

 total fall is not more than ten feet. There were the ruins 

 of a dam and swamp — mill on the falls, evidently de- 

 stroyed by fire. Returning to camp we found Harvey 

 already there. He had had no success and a hard tramp 

 through the tangled wood. 



Sept. 4. — A rather lowering day. Harvey and Sam went 

 fishing. Jessmore and I took the birch canoe and camera 

 and started for Trout Lake. At the falls I exposed a 

 plate, but probably with no success. Around the falls is 

 a portage of about forty rods leading over a bill and 

 through the woods. Jessmore took the canoe on his back 

 arid started up the hill. I followed with the camera and 

 rifle. At the end of the carry I arranged Jessmore in the 

 canoe and took a photograph of him. Entering the 

 canoe we paddled up the stream, pushed out on the lake, 

 and paddled up to the first point, where we turned about 

 and returned. Jessm ore's wrist pained him from an old 

 strain, and the clouds bunked rainy, otherwise I should 

 have voyaged further. The other party had coasted the 

 shore westward but had caught nothing. 



Jessmore got up dinner, a very fair one. biscuit, toma- 

 toes, ham, coffee, etc. In the afternooon Sam and I took 

 the cedar and coasted along the northern shore of Pine 

 Island to the western point, crossed the narrows and 

 landed on the mainland beyond, and then I took the oars 



and pulled along the main shore back to camp. On the 

 way Sam hooked three pickerel, which we put back into 

 the lake as soon as we had hauled them aboard for in- 

 spection. Jessmore avers that at this season pickerel 

 are not good, hence our rejection. He is wrong, but 

 n'importe, A huge fish was hooked off an island about 

 a mile from camp, but he broke the line and went off 

 with my beat spoon before we could discover his quality. 



Rather chilly in the evening. An owl alighted above 

 our heads as we were sitting about the camp-fire, but 

 vanished after dodging two or three pistol shots. I con- 

 fined myself in the black tent and filled the plate- 

 holders. 



Monday, Sejrt. -5.— The wind still holds in the south- 

 east with disagreeable persistance, and the clouds gather, 

 break and gather again in constant menace. Our camp 

 is very unfavorably situated. It is on an exposed point, 

 swept by every wind except the north. In that quarter 

 it is sheltered by the dense and tangled forest. Wood is 

 plenty and the lake water is of fair quality. Our out- 

 look over the lake and the bordering shores is beautiful, 

 but there the enumeration of our advantages ends. Into 

 the woods about us it is impossible to penetrate except 

 by the hardest tramping and liberal use of the hunting 

 knife. The ground is soft and almost boggy, somewhat 

 like a cedar or tamarack swamp, and covered with mold- 

 ering trunks of fallen trees, pine needles, dead leaves and 

 the rotting debins of former vegetation; and out of it has 

 sprung up a goodly growth of underbrush, young cedars, 

 red willow, maple saplings and white birches. A few 

 pines and hemlock trees loom up column-like among 

 their smaller comrades, and tbe white birch gleams 

 everywhere, a shaft of marble. It is pleasant to look at, 

 and pleasant to write about, seated here as I am at the 

 foot of a mighty hemlock, and looking from my page to 

 the glories of the forest, bathed in the bright sunlight; 

 but attempt further and closer inspection, and the sense 

 of woodland beauty vanishes with the first switch of a 

 birch bough across the eyes. 



Since we have been in this camp (which we have 

 named the Camp of the Three Pines, for the reason that 

 there are about a dozen of those arboreal forms around our 

 tents) I have not been 100yds. into the wood. In fact it 

 is impossible to get anywhere except by canoe along the 

 shore of the lake. On this day Harvey and I took the 

 cedar canoe and rowed along the shore, trolling for wall- 

 eyed pike. An hour at the oars and some three miles of 

 water yielded us one large pike and several pickerel, 

 which "latter, in deference to Jessmore's prejudices, we 

 threw back into their element. Those wall-eyed pike 

 make excellent eating, and Jessmore understands exactly 

 how to get them up. The sky cleared as we finished our 

 dinner, and we decided to spend the afternoon in making 

 a small expedition to Trout Lake. We left Jessmore in 

 charge of the camp, took the birch canoe and paddled 

 down to the portage. Sam and Harvey took the canoe on 

 their heads and I followed with the camera and other 

 traps. We paddled up the lake about a mile and landed 

 on a small island at the northern bend of the lake. 

 Harvey and Sam amused themselves picking raspberries, 

 and I undertook to photograph a small island which rose 

 out of the water just north of us. The water of Trout 

 Lake is much clearer than that of Vermillion, but the 

 character of the shores much the same. You see the 

 same forest crowding down to the water's edge, and the 

 same moss-covered rocks outcropping gigantically on 

 every promontory. About 5 o'clock we returned to camp. 

 Sam and Harvey went fishing and caught two wall-eyed 

 pike. In the evening, after the usual chaff about "the 

 camp-fire, I retired to the black tent and filled the plate- 

 holders. 



Tuesday. Sept. 6.— A mighty rain swept down on us 

 last night, but no damage. The wind has shifted to the 

 west and is blowing a small gale with considerable more 

 frost in its breath than is agreeable. After breakfast (a 

 good breakfast of hot johnny-cake, eggs, bacon and coffee, 

 the memory whereof still lingers in my mouth), Sam and 

 I took the cedar and pulled across the arm of the lake 

 which separates us from Pine Island. As we had ex- 

 plored the westward coasts of this particular sea last Sun- 

 day, we now turned our bow eastward, I threw a trolling 

 line over the stern and caught a small pickerel. We 

 wound in andj out among the bays and islets until we 

 reached an inlet whence apparently a stream led up into 

 the island. We pushed in through the wild riee, and 

 found ourselves in another arm of the lake, leading far 

 into the island. At tbe further end was a portage trail, 

 evidently leading across the island to its southern shore. 

 We returned to camp about ten o'clock. The wind had 

 increased and it was growing colder, though the sun still 

 shone brightly. We hugged the camp for the rest of the 

 morning. It was too rough to go fishing, and into the 

 forest we could not go without more labor than we cared 

 to expend. 



In the afternoon Sam, who seems to have more activity 

 than the rest of 113, took Jessmore and went back into the 

 woods to hunt partridges. While they were gone Harvey 

 undertook to nave a swim in the lake, but fearing the 

 slippery bottom and distrusting his own powers of swim- 

 ming he induced me to hold a rope wherewith he had 

 girded himself to prevent accidents. While I was sitting 

 on the rocks watching Harvey shiver in the cold water 

 and still colder wind, I happened— and just happened— to 

 see that the camp-fire before our tent was running through 

 the dry moss anb pine needles on the ground, and under 

 the urging of the gale gathering strength and volume as 

 it ran. I dropped the tow rope and ran up to stamp it 

 out, but had no sooner got there than I saw that there 

 was another fire creeping along the edge of the guide's 

 tent. The coffee-pot, half full of cold coffee, was the 

 first available thing I could lay hands on, and dashing 

 that on the fire with no effect, and seeing that the flames 

 had caught the canvas and that the provision boxes 

 within the tent were blazing, I yelled to Harvey and tore 

 open the canvas and began to drag out the boxes, burn- 

 ing my hands in the operation. Harvey, naked as a 

 Greek god, came scampering over the rocks, burning his 

 bare feet in the smouldering fire, and we soon had two 

 buckets watering the ground. For one exciting moment, 

 maybe two, things looked serious; but by that time we 

 had saved the day and the provisions. The tent, how- 

 ever, was burned on one side to such an extent that we 

 forthwith laced down the fly and used the burned place 

 as a door. 



This was about 3 o'clock, and we had finished our sal-, 

 vage work, when Sam and Jessmore returned (without a 

 partridge, of course). The west wind brought up a slight 



rain and forced us to keep close to the tent until 6 o'clock, 

 when it cleared off and we got supper. We were favored 

 again with a glorious sunset, the second of most wonder- 

 fully brilliant color which we had had since we have 

 been in camp here. Sam estimated it to be worth at least 

 seventy- five cents as a chromo. We spent the evening 

 around Jessmore's fire, being there more sheltered from 

 the cold wind, and [discussed strikes, Pinkerton police, 

 dynamite, pauper emigration, Know JSfothingism and 

 kindred subjects until the darkness hid even tbe trunks 

 about us, and the camp-fire flickered and died in its 

 embers. 



STORIES OF THE OZARKS.-III, 



Woniinucd, from Page 318-] 



" TJ OW did you get that scar on your cheek?" one of us 

 XX asked of the old hunter. 



'■Oh, I got that in a fight with an old buck over in 

 RippJey county. I got more than one Bear in that fight."' 

 "Tell us about it." 



"Well, you see the old woman and me had just been 

 married, and we had a comfortable cabin and a right 

 smart truck patch in one o' the valleys; and as I could 

 easy get all the game we wanted for meat, we were 

 'bout as happy as new-married folks generally are. One 

 afternoon in the fall o' the year after we'd had a frost or 

 two, I picked up my gun to take a stroll 'long down the 

 bottom where a crick branch put in. 



"I reckon I'd gone about three miles, and seein' nothin', 

 had climbed up on top of a high ridge, where I had an 

 open view for a good distance all around, and sat down 

 with my back agin a tree to rest a bit. 



"I didn't sit long, for in lookin' the ground over I saw 

 one 0' the biggest bucks I ever set eyes on, but he was 

 too far to shoot, so I slipped back behind the ridee to get 

 the wind of him and got up within a hundred and twenty 

 yards, and saw him standing quartering to me with his 

 head partly behind a tree. I drew a bead to shoot him 

 behind the ear, let her go and he dropped in his tracks. 



"Taking him by the horn with one hand, my knife in 

 the other, I turned him over to cut his throat. How it 

 happened I never knowed, and I'll never tell ye; but 

 quicker'n you could bat your eye the knife went whizzin' 

 out o ! my hand and I was on my back with the buck 

 standing over me; his hair bristled up like a hedgehog 

 and his eyes as green as grass, but I clung to his horns 

 with a death grip and then the circus commenced. 



"It's a fact, pardners, and you may believe me or not, 

 that buck would swing me round as*a cat would swing a 

 rat, trying to shake me off; and then he'd beat a tattoo 

 with his hoof on my carcass that was anything but funny 

 and every blow left a cut or a bruise. 



"We had it round and round, hammer and tongs and 

 1 was gittin' the hammerin', but I stuck to him like a 

 blood-sucker. 1 was much of a man them days; and if I 

 do say it, I had my share of grit. 



"The buck would stop now and then to get his wind, 

 and I was awful glad of it, for 1 wanted to get my wind, 

 too. Then he'd go at it agin, cuttin' me with his hoofs 

 and tryin' to get at me with his horns. The fracas hadn't 

 been on for five minutes, when I'd been glad to call it 

 even and let him go, but was afraid to do it, for if he'd 

 got a rip at me with them horns o' his'n he'd let the day- 

 light into my innards; and I knew it; and the wolves 

 would pick my bones afore any one could find me. I 

 thought of the old woman at the cabin; and took courage 

 and tightened my grip. 



"I was getting weaker all the time, and so was the 

 buck; that was some satisfaction at any rate. How 

 many times we fought over that ground 1 couldn't tell. 

 Several times I thought I'd have to let him go and take 

 my chances. I felt faint and dizzy: and all at once it 

 began to grow dark; but a sudden motion o' the buck 

 brought me to my senses, when I seed my huntin' knife 

 within my reach. Mebbe you think I din't grab that 

 knife in a hurry. I clutched it as if my life depended 

 on it and I reckon it did; and with one stroke cut his 

 throat and let him go and dropped back in a dead faint. 



"I don't know how long I laid there, but when I came 

 to my senses agin I took a good look at myself, and I was 

 covered with cuts and bruises from head to foot; and all 

 the clothes I had on me was the binding to my shirt 

 collar. [ His exact language. J The blood from the 

 buck flew all over me, and with the blood from my own 

 wounds, I was bloody a8 a butcher. 



"Gents, I don't say wrong when I say I was in that 

 fight at least an hour, and it was the longest hour in my 

 life, and we had fought over at least a half an acre of 

 ground, as I knew by the gravel bein' torn up and the 

 breakin* down o' the brush, 



"The buck left a trail of blood, which I followed a little 

 way down the ridge, where he dropped dead. I'd made 

 a good job a cuttin' his throat if I was in a tight place. 

 The next thing was to hang him up out o 1 the way o' the 

 wolves; but I couldn't make it; he was too heavy for me, 

 or rather I was too badly used up; but it would a been no 

 trick at all if I'd been at myself. So I left him to feed 

 the wolves. 



"I hunted up my powder horn and bullet pouch, that 

 had been torn off of me in the fracas; but I didn't have a 

 bullet to load my gun with; the pouch was empty. But 

 it didn't make no difference nohow. I'd got enough 

 huntin' for one day: and gettin' my traps together I 

 started for home. But which way was home? I was kind 

 o' dazed, I reckon, and for a few minutes didn't know 

 which way to go; but soon got my bearin's and struck out, 

 sittin' down purty often to rest up. When I got in sight 

 of home, the old woman was working in the truck patch: 

 and when she seed me she gave a scream and run to the 

 cabin and barred the door. I s'pose she thought I was the 

 angel Gabriel come to tote her home. A purty angel I 

 was 'thout a feather in 'ary wing. I reckon I looked a 

 heap more like that other feller that runs the brimstone, 

 mill. 



"It was some time afore I convinced her I was the man 

 that belonged to her and the truck patch, and though 

 badly damaged was good for many more fights if they 

 came in my line o' business. She finally let me in; and 

 then she scarcely knowed me. She said my voice didn't 

 sound nat'ral, and I reckon it didn't: and when I looked 

 in the glass I scarcely knowed myself. The old woman 

 poulticed and plastered me up in good shape; but it was 

 several weeks afore I did any more huntin.' 



"The first trip I made was where I killed the buck: but 

 the wolves had picked the bones clean and scattered 'em 

 about for rods. I found the horns and packed 'em home. 



