April 21, 1892,] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



871 



wilds during the days Duluth and LaVerendrye were 

 lords of tbe forest and the Fleur-de lys and the French 

 fur traders were dominant iri the New World; but with 

 this difference, the coureurs du bois were outlaws. The 

 cruiser is a reputable citizen. Tbe business of the cruiser 

 is to look up land either for timber or mineral. They 

 call no man master, but hire themselves for a time to 

 any one who stands in need of their service. A man 

 has bought, or contemplates buying, a certain section of 

 land in a certain town and range, and he wants to know 

 what there is on it, how much timber, etc. It is an easy 

 thing for the owner to mark the spot on the map, but he 

 would fail utterly were, he to attempt to identify it in the 

 heart of the fore-t and find the four stakes planted, per- 

 haps, long ago by the Government surveyors to identify 

 its corners. If the owner be a wise man he does not 

 undertake tbe journey, but retains a cruiser to do it for 

 him. Tbe cruiser id a man (generally of American or 

 Eiglish detcent) educated, but hardened to wonderful 

 endurance by a Jife of constant tramping in the forests. 

 He receives h's ins'roctions and starts out. Summer or 

 winter, it makes no difference to him. Sometimes he 

 travels alone, but more generally has a partner. If the 

 expedition be in summer they provide themselves with 

 a light ar.d well pitched birc'n canoe, Jaden with their 

 "cbuck." or provisions, generally flour, bacon and canned 

 good.-, coffee, tea', etc, their blankets, kettles and frying- 

 pans, their axes and a small A-tent, and push c ff. Their 

 c >urse leads them through lakes and over streams, with 

 frrqu* tit portages, until they reach the vicinity of the 

 locus in quo, When they have piddled as near as watf-r 

 comcLUDication permits* they land, cache their canoe 

 and such provisions as they cannot carry, stow the re- 

 mainder in their pack-bags, carried on their b<>cks by a 

 broad strap pasting around the foreheads, and axe in 

 hand set out through tbe wood, steering by compass to 

 the desired spot, which they identify by finding (often 

 after most laborious search) the corner stakes placed by 

 the fcurveyors and on which are marked the town, range 

 and section. 



Now t»>e real business of the journey commences. 

 Every foot of the land is paced over, every stick of tim- 

 ber carefully noted, and an accurate estimate made of 

 the amount of lumber in feet, contained on the tracts 

 This done, their work is accomplished and they return. 

 The winter j mrney is more arduous. The lakes and 

 rivers are now ice bound, and the birch canoe is ex- 

 changed for the toboggan and snowshoe. Over the frozen 

 lakes they drag their toboggan loaded with their 

 supplies, until the forest is again reached. The cruiser 

 now makes up a pack, weighing from sixty to eighty 

 pound°, containing the 6mali tent, one kettle, one frying- 

 pan, bis blankets and provisions. His companion, if he 

 has one, is similarly weighted, and together they pa^s 

 into the wood?. Journeying through the tangled forests 

 is terribly exhausting work, and especially when one is 

 weighted with sixty pounds of baggage, and is on snow- 

 shoes. The underbrush is almost impenetrable; the wind- 

 falls and accumulations of fallen trees are encountered at 

 nearly every step. A fall is a mat er of m^re consequence 

 than a stumble in summer time, for the unhappy cruiser 

 before be can recover himself, must slip his pack, and 



f erhaps his snowshoes, before he can struggle to his feet, 

 n this way the march is made until about 4 o'clock in 

 the afternoon, at which time the forest is already gloomy 

 in the shadow of approaching night. The cruiser now 

 selects a suitable spot for a camp, throws down his pack 

 and having cleared away the snow builds a large and 

 generous fire. He cooks his meal, smokes his pipe, and 

 then removes the fire to another place, pitches his tent 

 over its former bed, and rolled in his blankets goes to 

 sleep on the warm ashes. Ordinarily a cruiser will travel 

 from twelve to sixteen miles a day, either in summer or 

 winter, and as that distance is small even to the ordi- 

 narily vigorous product of city life, one will begin to ap- 

 preciate the difficulties which reduce the travel of these 

 men of iron endurance to so small a space. Tbe pay of a 

 cruiser varies from a bare living to about $3,000 a year, 

 depending, as in other walks of life, on each man's skill, 

 intelligence and industry. From $3 to $5 a day is the 

 usual range of wages. 



Tuesday, Sept. 13.— We are still bothered with this 

 wretched wina. It is blowing from the west to-day, and 

 our bay is comparatively calm. We trolled it but with 

 no avail. All of us took our usual tramps about the 

 woods and met with the usual success. I am getting 

 disgusted, that is to say, weary with hope deferred. I 

 have been waiting three days for a chance to go over to 

 Ouagumaup and photograph the squaws, and dicker for 

 moccasins, and here I am yet. I devote my time to sit- 

 ting about the fire, or gathering autumn leaves. Harvey 

 and Jessmore took a cruise in a new direction in the 

 afternoon but returned about 3 o'clock, gameless. Then 

 Sam and 1 took a walk across the point, and over to a 

 little lake which lies about a mile up the stream enter- 

 ing the bay on the northern side of our point. We saw 

 nothing in the whole distance. The wind still howls with 

 no prospect of abatement. 



Wednesday, Sept. 14.—A cold night and raw morning. 

 We did nothing nut hug the fire, and make an occasional 

 tramp into the woods for partridges and got none. At 

 dinner time we were visited by two Indians who hung 

 around after the manner of their race, in silent expecta- 

 tion of good to come. We bought a whitefish from 

 them and gave them a little tobacco and something to 

 eat, wherewith they appeared satisfied and soon departed. 

 Jessmore took a turn in the woods and brought in two 

 partridges. In the evening, while we were sitting about 

 the first pipe after supper, we received a call from Ouag- 

 umaup who with one of his retainers had paddled across 

 from his village. I gave the chief a cigar, and Jessmore 

 on demand furnished some supper to his man. We 

 gathered about the fire and discoursed with the sachem 

 on divers subjects, principally game. We dickered with 

 bim for five pairs of beaded moccasins and one pair of 

 heavy moccasins, giving him the measure of the same. 

 He seemed to grasp the idea and promised to set his 

 squaws to work as soon as he returned. Sam also sug- 

 gested that he send us a whitefish for breakfast, and this 

 the chief, liar that he is, agreed to do. As be was about 

 to leave he turned to Jessmore and demanded to know 

 who was the boss, "Oh, they are all bosses,'" says Jess- 

 more. 



Thursday, Sex>t. 15.— This was the first really good day 

 we have aad at this camp. No wind, bright sun, and a 

 warm balmy air. It gave us an opportunity to go fish- 

 ing, and Sam and I pulled around to the storehouse bay 



and along the shore into another bay, but caught nothing 

 in the whole distance, whereat, disgusted, we returned to 

 camp. 



Harvey and Jessmore had taken the birch and paddled 

 along the shore in the opposite direction, landed and fol- 

 lowed a trail for partridges. They returned soon after 

 us, empty handed as ourselves. Ouagumaup called on us 

 again, bringing two good-sized fish, a pike and a white- 

 fish, and one of his crew brought some cranberries which 

 we bought of him. 



In the afternoon Sam and Harvey paddled over to the 

 bay next south of us, and took to the woods, as usual, 

 after partridges. I loitered about the camp. I happened 

 to stroll along the shore a little distance from our tents 

 and was searching the opposite shores with a spy glass 

 when I saw a bear come out of the woods on our point, 

 and lazily shamble along tbe shore. He was rather more 

 than half a mile off. I came back to the tent, hastily 

 got my Marl in, and started down the point. But I was 

 too unskillful a hunter to come up with bruin or get 

 sight of him again; he had vanished in the woods. I 

 hunted through the woods for the rest of the afternoon, 

 but never even found a track. Toward suppertime Sam 

 and Harvey return* d with one partridge. 



Friday, Sept. 16.— Another day of cold wind. We 

 passed tne morning about the camp-fire, cowering under 

 a wind brake of cedar boughs. The Indians at Ouagum- 

 aup's village hold a tquaw dance to-day, this being one 

 of their days of worship. We heard their tom-tom beat- 

 ing, and after dinner all four of us manned our canoes 

 and went over there. I was at th? oars in my cedar 

 canoe, and had a pretty hard pull to get across the bay. 

 A.s we approached the lodges we taw the Indians gath- 

 ered together in a rather spacious construction of cedar 

 poles, looking like a huge barrel cut in two lengthwise. 

 As we gained the door the dancing ceased, and the per- 

 formers huddled along the sides of a lodge, where they 

 received some sort of refreshment from the hands of the 

 ma&ter of ceremonies. While this was going on I began 

 to set up my camera, and this proceeding appeared to 

 aff* ct their appetite, for immediately the medicine man 

 came ou' f . and with a stately wave of his hand re- 

 marked "K twain" and some other Chippewa which I 

 could not understand, but the purport of wh ; ch was 

 manifestly to clear out. Ouagumaup also came out, 

 and saying that he was not the boss of this occasion, con- 

 firmed the command of the high priest. Accordingly, 

 Harvey and I went down among the houses and photo-, 

 graphed one of the wigwams to the great terror of the 

 aquaws who had taken refuge therein. Returning to the 

 dance house, Harvt-y with the camera dismounted and 

 under his arm, cocked and primed, stood in the doorway 

 and dropp d the shutter on the worshippers before they 

 were aware of what was up. We stayed there and 

 watched the dance some time, although it was not espe- 

 cially interesting, and five minutes were enough to see it 

 in all its phases. There were some twenty or thirty 

 dancers, bucks, squaws and young boys and girls of all 

 ages, most of them painted with red and blue paint, mere 

 daubs, no design being apparent. They danced, or rather 

 hopped, slowly around the lodge, keeping time to the 

 beating of the drum and the low monotonous howling of 

 tbe med cine man at the other end. Ouagumaup did not 

 participate, but his father did. After the dance was con- 

 cluded we got Ouagumaup, his father, mother, son and 

 grandson in a group near the door of the lodge and I 

 exposed a plate on them to the admiration and delight of 

 all present. Then we returned. 



Saturday, Sept. 17.— This is the last day of our stay. 

 The wind uad partially gone down and we were not 

 obliged to come under the wind break. After an extra- 

 ordinarily good breakfast, Sam, Harvey and myself 

 paddled across the bay and along the southern shore 

 until we readied a trail said to extend to the Little Fork 

 River. We landed and followed the trail, Sam and 

 Harvey ahead, keeping an eye out for partridges, or any- 

 thing else that might pass for game, and I brought up 

 the rear with the camera. Never have I seen such beau- 

 tiful woods as we passed through that morning; such 

 vivid tints of color, the sumac with its gory trophies, the 

 birch yellow as autumnal sun-light, and the maples that 

 literally "blush like a banner bathed in slaughter." The 

 trail led over a hill and down into a valley, where it ended 

 in a marsh. I set up the camera on the hill and exposed 

 several plates at a claim shanty, while the others ranged 

 the woods. An hour or more passed and they returned 

 as usual gameless, and we returned to our boat and 

 pulled back to camp. I put in the afternoon in gathering 

 together my various traps and packing the same so far as 

 might be in preparation for our departure. Of tobacco, 

 there are only three small pieces of plug in camp, and 

 though Sam and I are well supplied with cigars they do 

 not, for me, supply the place of a pipe. As a consequence 

 I am measuring my smokes with the utamost care, and 

 cutting the precious plug with harassing economy. 

 This being on short commons in tobacco, is a new and 

 most mortifying experience for me. 



The whole camp was overcome with indolence this 

 afternoon. Jessmore sat on the log seat before the fire- 

 place and gazed steadfastly into eternity ; Harvey backed 

 up against a tree and read "A Wonderful Woman;" Sam 

 retired to a far corner of the tent where he read some- 

 thing part of the time and reviled me and my packing at 

 odd intervals, as new gibes occurred to bim. Evening 

 came and stirred Jessmore into activity sufficient to pro- 

 duce a very fair supper. We closed about the fire and 

 smoked. The wind was gone, the stars came out, and we 

 enjoyed another perfect night. Harvey mustered up 

 sufficient energy to fill the plate holders and stow away 

 the exposed plates, after which we turned in. 



Sunday, Sept. IS. — I saw the sun rise this morning, and 

 therein i got ahead of all the rest of the camp. No one 

 has had a similar experience on this trip, and I feel proud 

 and haughty in consequence. We had intended to get 

 under way by six o'clock but did not. It was eight by 

 the chime when our canoe put off. All our baggage was 

 packed up in final wr tppings, a small supply of provisions 

 left out to sustain us on the voyage, pipes were lit all 

 around and we put off. It was a perfect clay. No wind, 

 the lake like a mirror, the sun bright, the air warm and 

 balmy, and ourselves in excellent trim and good digestion. 

 We ran over to Ouagumaup's village, and there took on a 

 pair of moccasins and engaged another canoe to take part, 

 of our baggage to Tower. Jessmore conducted the nego- 

 tiation, and by the persuasive powers of two or three 

 slabs of bacon, and a pair of overalls, which I had 

 abandoned, he succeeded in inducing an Indian with his 



squaw, pappoose and canoe to enter our service. We 

 relieved our canoe and Jessmore's of all the baggage 

 which could be crowded into the Indian's canoe, and 

 again set out. Harvey was at the oars, Sam sat amid- 

 ships and held his trolling line and gun, and I at tbe 

 stern wielded the steering paddle. As we passed down 

 the lake, threading the numberless islands, crossing the 

 traverses and wide reaches of water, rounding promon- 

 tories and skirting the shores, we began to understand of 

 how much pleasure and enjoyment we had been deprived 

 by the baleful wind which' had held us prisoners at our 

 camp during nearly tbe whole stay. If we could have 

 got out and made from time to time little expeditions 

 over the lake, we could have increased our pleasure ten 

 fold. Harvey toiled manfully at the oars until we had 

 left our camp ten miles behind us. 



Sam now took his place and on we went until we 

 reached O ak Island, where we ran ashore and got up a hasty 

 dinner. Our Indian retainer had been placed in Jess- 

 more's canoe to assist him, while theequawand pappoose 

 followed in their own canoe. We had distanced the squaw 

 by a mile or more, but she soon hove in sight and j oined 

 her lord, who was gorging himself with the last of our 

 bologna sausage. At 1 o'clock we were again under way. 

 I relieved Sam at the oars as we neared the Birch Point, 

 and we entered on the last stretch of the voyage. At 

 Jessmore's suggestion, strongly advocated by Harvey 

 with the steering paddle and a strong pair of lungs, we 

 left the canoes to proceed by the uau^l route and rowed 

 down to Sucker Pjint, where the Indian reserve is loca- 

 ted. There Harvey got out the cam* ra and took several 

 photographs of the squaws, who were fluttering about the 

 village engaged in some game, while Sim made a dicker 

 with a couple of young braves to portage our canoe across 

 the point. He succeeded in the dicker, and the two braves 

 picked up the canoe and we picked up the baggage and 

 crossed the point. The portage trail was well worn and 

 easy going, and we reached the other shore without loss 

 of wind. The buildings of the Tower wharf could be seen 

 as we pushed off from the shore, not more than a mile 

 distant. Harvey pulled the final stretch, and at 4:15 

 o'clock we landed at Tower, ju t ahead of the squaw and 

 just half an hour behind Jessmore, who was waiting for 

 us. After some delay we got a team to carry our bag- 

 gage up to the hotel for us, which we found full of 

 cruisers and explorers. The landlord told us that Mr. 

 Kimball, who had intended to start with us, had come up 

 there a few days after we had started out, and that after 

 a search of two or three days for our camp, had given up 

 the chase and returned home. 



We left Tower the next morning at 5:30 and reached 

 Duluth in time to catch the 3 o'clock train for Chicago, 

 meeting no adventures or mishaps worthy of note. 

 "And this is the end of o< e, two. three, 

 Tue rat, the mouse and tlie little frogatfe." 



H. C. T. 



SYNDICATING THE ADIRONDACKS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



A friend has furnished me with some data relating to 

 Dr. Webb's purchase and his railroad in the Adirondacks. 

 It is not complete, but conveys much information to those 

 sportsmen who are acquainted with the region to which 

 it refers. It becomes more intelligible when reference is 

 made to Stoddard's map of the Adirondacks. He writes: 

 "Dr. Webb owns about two-thirds of Township 38, in 

 Hamilton county, which includes both Smith's and Albany 

 lakes. He also owns all of the triangle— about (500 acres 

 —north of the Township 38. also all of the Township of the 

 same number situated in H- rkimer county — about 4,500 

 acres — also all of Township 43 — containing 25,288 acres — 

 also all of Township 8, except 250 acres on the north shore 

 of the Third Lake (Fulton Chain) and 150 acres between 

 First and Second lakes, making his entire purchase in 

 Township 8, 32,650 acres. Also that part of Township 42 

 lying on both sides of Beaver River for about three- 

 quarters of a mile from the river on either side. It is 

 embraced in subdivision lots Nos, 21 to 63 inclusive, and 

 lots 126 and 127. making about 9,000 acres. This makes 

 in all about 100 000 acres, but it is not in one solid body. 

 There are numerous small pieces scattered through Town- 

 ship 38, and more than one-half of 42 which he does not 

 own. I think Wood's Lake is in Township 5, next west of 

 Township 42; and the line between these townships runs 

 a little east of Loon Lake. Twitchell Lake seems to be in 

 Township 8, which Dr. Webb owns almost wholly ; but 

 Twitchell Creek, mostly in Townships 5 and 6, he does 

 not seem to own. By reference to tbe map you will see 

 that Township 42 includes Little Rapids, on Beaver River, 

 the South Branch, etc., and I am informed that it is Dr. 

 Webb's intention to prevent trespassing upon this portion 

 of his purchase. 



I have not examined the entire record of all convey- 

 ances to the St. Lawrence & Adirondack Railroad Com- 

 pany for railroad purposes. A part of the road is located 

 as follows: The road enters HerKimer county near where 

 the county line crosses the Moose River, about a mile 

 west of the junction of the north and south branches of 

 the Moose. Tnere is to be a station near this bridge. The 

 lme is then along the south branch to near the west line 

 of Township 7, where it turns to the left and crosses Little 

 Safford Creek, about 800ft. from the lake of the same 

 name, thence close to Clear Pond, thence into Township 

 8, near Thirsty Creek, and turns to the left at a right 

 angle up the creek, passing close to the west side of Buck 

 Pond, in Township 6; thence it bears northwest slightly 

 and turns at a right angle to the right, crossing Twitchell 

 Creek, thence in a nearly northeast line to Harris's Camp 

 on the south branch of the Beaver. Thence it passes 

 Munsy's to the upper end of the carry, when it crosses 

 Beaver for Smith's Lake. On the map filed, Township 

 42 is marked "Ne-ha-sa-ne Park;" Township 5 is not so 

 marked. 



It is hoped that there will very soon be another edition 

 of Stoddard's map which will show both the " Webb 

 purchase" and the lines of his and other railroads. There 

 has come to be so much confusion of ownership and 

 boundary lines of private property, that but compara- 

 tively few sportsmen know when they are upon safe, 

 footing. Indeed, lines in that region are obscure at best, 

 as a general thing, and the owners of tracts often lay 

 claim to much which they do not possess. Syndicates 

 are working together, as the Forest Commissioners must 

 know, with the ultimate purpose of bringing the entire 

 regi >n under private ownership by men of great wealth. 

 The Indians were driven out long ago, and now the 

 humble soortsman must soon go. D. H. B. 



Stract/se. April p, 



