82 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



lAvG. 30, 1891. 



ALONE. 



A LONE How can I lie alone, 



When earth and air and habblinR brook 

 Are pages In that wondrous book 

 Dear Mother Nature wrote for me? 

 Bach bird and bud lifts up his voice 

 And bids my heart awake, rejoice. 

 JEven the winds, that gay and free 

 Go tripping over kill and lea. 

 Give greeting with a gladsome tone, 

 And all I see I call my own. 



Alone How can I be aioney 

 Each morn Aurora's ruddy fire 

 Calls forth a sweet, celestial choir 



That wooed me from refreshing sleep. 

 The rosea lift their heads and say: 

 "All hail, kind mate, to thee good day!" 

 And from the grassy, fern-clad heap. 

 Where smilax and clematis creep; 

 From blackened pine, by moss o'ergrown, 

 Comes welcome, as from friends well known. 



Alone! How can 1 be alone? 



High in mid-heaven an orb of gold 



Pillars of amythyst uphold, 

 it gleams with love, whate'er betide. 



The doe with opal-onyx eye 



Peers from the copse as I pass by. 



The rubies in the shy trout's side 



Their silver setting almost hide. 



Sure, fairer jewels never shone. 



And every radiant gem my own. 



Alone! How can I be alonef 

 Though fellow man doth seem more far 

 Removed than yonder twinkling star, 



Though not in oiir familiar tongue 

 Come words of comfort, words of cheer. 

 Sweet messages from those most dear. 

 Still, nature's vesper chimes are rung. 

 And songs, by unseen spirits sung. 

 Float round my head, that on a stone 

 Fmds rest, I sleep, yet not alone. 

 Shoshonb. 



CAMP LIFE ON MUSKOKA LAKE.-I. 



LAST May we began to overhaul our outfit in prepara- 

 tion for our aan^^al summer outing. We found that 

 it would be policy to contrive some kind of an arrange- 

 ment that would take the place of the pine boughs used 

 last year as a bed. After considerable figuring we had a 

 folding cot made, which has proved to be the one thing 

 needful in that line. The plan is as follows: A frame oi 

 well-seasoned Georgia pine, 3x4 stuff, with the ends 

 mortised together, a center piece of same size, extra 

 heavy canvas tacked on sides and center piece, holes in 

 four corners for pins. When not in use ends can be taken 

 oft and all rolled up together. Before setting it up we 

 cut crutches about a foot and a half in length, driving 

 them in the ground so that the four corners of the cot 

 rested on them, bringing it up from the ground about 

 twelve inches. The center piece kept us from rolling 

 against each other, and we have yet to see anything that 

 will equal this for a convenient and comfortable double 

 cot. 



As we had made up our minds to spend the summer on 

 our old camping grounds in Muskoka, Canada, we con- 

 cluded to take passage to Toronto on one of the Canadian 

 Une of boats which run from Chicago to Montreal. June 

 13 saw us and all our luggage at the Chicago dock ready 

 to start on a trip that would last fourteen weeks. 



The day was dark and gloomy, with occasional showers, 

 and to any one of a superstitious nature it would have 

 been a harbinger of bad luck, but to us who had been on 

 a continual jump since early morning, it was only one of 

 the unpleasant days we were sure to have while in camp. 

 The Alma Munroe, which was to bear us and our belong- 

 ings for five days and nights, was not a boat that would 

 impress one as possessing much speed, nor would such 

 impressions be far wrong, for during our whole trip we 

 overtook nothing in the shape of a floating craft, and I 

 think to-day the Alma is the slowest boat that ploughs 

 the waters of the great chain of lakes. But what did it 

 matter to us, as long as the weather was fair and the 

 provisions held out; and we must say they set an excel- 

 lent table and give good service. The different points of 

 interest are passed too quickly— Waugoshance, Skilligal- 

 lee and the Isle of Mackinaw; then our first stopinng 

 place, the Canadian port of Sarnia, where a number of 

 the passengers availed themselves of the chance to lay in 

 a supply of tanglefoot. River and Lake St. Clair and 

 Detroit River are one continuous panorama, which should 

 be seen from the deck of a steamer to be thoroughly en- 

 joyed. Windsor and then Cleveland are reached in due 

 time, from there across the lake to the Welland Canal, 

 and here commenced one of the most enjoyable parts of 

 the whole trip. They sing of moonlight on the lake, but 

 give us ours on the Welland Canal, with the deck of the 

 Alma Munroe under our feet, corn cob pipes in our 

 mouths, camp luggage in the cabin, and a three months' 

 vacation staring us in the face. 



The next morning we arrive in Toronto, where we have 

 considerable difficulty with the custom house officer, who 

 is in grave doubts whether to allow our guns to go through 

 or not, our Winchester especially attracts his attention. 



"How long have you had it? When did you get it? How 

 much did it cost?" and other sundry questions are put to 

 us in quick succession, bufc we finally convince him that 

 it would be the proper thing to allow us to pass; not with- 

 out a great many shakes of his head, however, and pro- 

 longed mutterings. We soon transferred our luggage 

 on the steamer which was to take us to Hamilton, our 

 starting point on the railroad journey to Muskoka. 



At Hanailton we had considerable work to do. As our 

 canoe was in storage there it had to be shipped north; 

 provisions and a few cooking utensils were bought; and 

 then with heads shaved we are ready to start again. 



Three hundred miles north we arrived at Bracebridge, 

 a small village on the Muskoka River. The falls here 

 cause the first portage to those who wish to follow the 

 river to the great northern watershed. 



Before the shute was built the fall? were one of fl^e 



hardest on the river for the lumbermen to run. Many 

 are the tales told of the great jams, the last one continued 

 many days— one log standing upright was the key to the 

 whole thing. Ropes were fastened; horses and men 

 pulled, but to no avail — the log must be partly sawed. Who 

 would do it? It would be taking one's life in hands to at- 

 tempt it. Fifty dollars— an Indian and a saw, and the 

 story is told. 



For half a dollar we induce a farmer to haul our canoe 

 and luggage to the river's edge below the falls. Here we 

 were at last ready to start on our long-looked-for trip. 

 Perhaps it would interest some fellow oamijers to know 

 what our outfit consisted of. 



First — Our canoe, the Chicago, was a cedar lapstreak, 

 16ft. long, 30in. beam and lOin. depth, weighing about 

 601bs. , and carrying an extra large lateen sail; her capacity 

 was supposed to be l,300ib8. As an all-round canoe she 

 pretty near fills the bill. 



Second — Clothing. — Each outfit of our extra clothing 

 was packed in small round bags, 20in. long and 24in. in 

 circumference. These and the ammunition bag had been 

 well parafined, which made them perfectly waterproof. 

 Our wardrobe was limited to extra pair pants, extra shirt, 

 extra suit of underwear, two extra pair socks, one of them 

 heavy wool, four bandana handkerchiefs, three pair of 

 shoes — one low canvas, one tan color and one extra heavy, 

 with thick soles — and a rubber overcoat. 



TJiird — Ammimition, — This bag waaabout the same size 

 as the clothing one, and contained 700 rounds of .32 

 cartridges for the Winchester, 200 rounds for the .32 rifle 

 and about 200 rounds for the shotgun. Into this bag 

 went the fishing tackle box and the miscellaneous stuff, 

 such as nails, string, tacks, wire, etc., etc. 



Fourth — Provisions. — This bag consisted of an inside 

 bag of heavy canvas inclosed in oilcloth, length 40in,, 

 circumference 36in., with heavy rope handles on sidei 

 Into this went the following, each in a bag of its own: 

 Tea, sugar, flour, rice, beans, oatmeal and salt, also the 

 coffee, which was kept in an air-tight tin with small screw 

 top. 



Fifth— Blmikets.— Three heavy pairs were tightly rolled 

 in oilcloth, inside of which were the matches (in rubber- 

 corked beer bottles), towels, dish cloths and mosquito 

 net. 



Sixth— Tinware.— These important articles consisted of 

 large, small and smaller pails, tin plates, cups, porridge 

 dish, frying-pan, coffee pot, knives, spoons, etc. These 

 all fitted in the large pail which went into a bag with 

 draw-string at the top. 



Seventh — Stove. — This was an invention of our own, 

 and was made of sheet iron, 3ft. long, 14in. high, the 

 four sides were hinged to the top which had one hole. 

 Having no bottom it could be folded up flat. The pipe — 

 three lengths— telescoped together. This stove gave 

 good satisfaction, but it is not perfect by any means, 

 although for size and convenience we have never seen its 

 equal. 



Eighth— TJie Tent was an 8ft. wall, rolled up with pegs 

 inclosed and in a bag of its own, the poles and ridge being 

 tied together. 



Ninth— The Cot was folded up with ax lashed to its 

 side. 



Some will think we had a great many bags, but experi- 

 ence has taught us that "A bag for every thing and every- 

 thing in a bag," is a good motto while out camping. 



Any one but a camper looking at our pile of luggage 

 and then at our canoe would wonder what we were going 

 to do with it all, but that was soon settled. 



The sail, tent poles and cot were laid in the bottom. 

 In the bow went the stove pij^e, clothes bags, tinware 

 and stove. Then came the provision bag, tent, blankets, 

 with the gims and fishing poles laid along the sides, the 

 ammunition bag was placed in the stern, which just left 

 enough room for the two of us to crowd in. 



By this time the day was pretty well gone, and as we 

 wanted to make our old camping ground about two miles 

 down the river, we sent the canoe along at a pretty good 

 speed, although it required close watching aa the river 

 contained a great many logs from the drive now going on. 



We were informed at the village that we would not be 

 able to make the lake by the mouth of the river, as the 

 logmen had possession, but would be compelled to take 

 what they called the cut, which branched off about a mile 

 further up. Turning the bend of the river the old camp 

 ground came in view. It seemed such a short time since 

 we had pitched our tent there before. Everything was 

 just as we left it; the dead pine boughs lay in a heap at 

 one side, relics of our once fragrant bed; the blackened 

 hole in the ground showed where the camp stove had 

 once done good service and in a short time would be 

 utilized for the same purpose. It did not take us long to 

 pitch the tent and get everything under canvas; one of us 

 getting supper while the other got things in ship shape. 

 I Night overtook us before we had the dishes washed, but 

 by the aid of a camp-fire we made short work of them, 

 and were soon under the cover pf two pairs of heavy 

 blankets. But what a night! We had neglected to put 

 up the mosquito netting and — ^but what camper has not 

 gone through the same experience. We got up about two 

 o'clock in the morning and smudged the tent, which 

 seemed only to sharpen their appetites. We will let this 

 pass, as we do not wish to awaken sad memories. 



Chicago. Baxter, and Grimm. 



EPHRAIM AND CHERRIES. 



I AM alone to-night and memories of bygone, happy 

 days in Colorado on the southern border come crowd- 

 ing thick and fast. Just about this time of the year I 

 was resting up at my ranch on Rita Azul, Colorado, after 

 a long cow hunt. I had three Mexican families on the 

 ranch. Two of them had land from me, which they were 

 working on shares after the leisurely way a Mexican gen- 

 erally works. The other man was taking care of my 

 cattle and doing chores and his wife was doing my 

 cooking. 



One afternoon I felt pretty well rested and told the 

 women on the ranch that I would take them over into the 

 Manca del Burro Canon after cherries, which grow there 

 in profusion. The men were aU. gone except one boy of 

 about sixteen, a rather lazy, quiet young gentleman 

 about the color of an old saddle. They accepted the in- 

 vitation eagerly, and so I told Juan Maria De Castro to 

 bitch a pau- of ponies to the farm wagon and put some 

 hay into it; some blankets were put gn the hay, and nay 

 load piled in. live young women, six or ten children, 

 YnXh Juan Maria and me on tl>e seat. Tao:ftlB Josephite 



Luisa and the other women, with the ever-present shawl 

 over their head, and several with a coat of white dirt on' 

 their faces to preserve their complexions. It was a curi- 

 ous-looking load, and they made as much noise as a flock 

 of blackbirds. 



We drove west along the base of the hills to the en- 

 trance of the Manca del Burro and then up the caflon, 

 sometimes in the creek, then out, crossing it twenty 

 times in a mile. It is a deep valley with a brook at the 

 bottom and the banks slope steeply up for half a mile 

 each way from the brook. We passed one patch of 

 cherries about a mile up the cafion, and went to the next 

 patch, two miles further up, turned the wagon round 

 and unhitched the horses, the women got out, and leav- 

 ing Juan to herd the children we climbed up to the 

 cherry bushes. They were about 200yds. up the steep 

 bank and ran parallel to the creek for several hundred 

 yards. The patch was about 20yds. wide and the 

 bushes about 5ft. high, covered thickly with fruit. These 

 cherries resemble the choke cherries of the East. The 

 women all went to picking cherries, talking and laugh- 

 ing as they picked. I picked a few and ate them, then 

 sat down and dreamed of other scenes and my far away 

 home in the East. 



All at once the women stopped talking, and as I rose, 

 there was a grizzly bear as big as a beef steer, standing 

 on his hindlegs and looking at us from the other side of 

 the bushes. He stuck out his tongue, licked his lips and 

 groaned. The girls were paralyzed, and stood still and 

 stared with blanched faces. I told them to run and stood 

 my ground. There was a wild stampede down the hill, 

 accompanied by some good honest screaming. I drew 

 my .45 six-shooter, resol ved to make a fight if he came 

 after them. He quietly dropped down on all fours and 

 disappeared, and I went down the hill as fast as I 

 could go. 



When I reached the wagon it had just started, and I 

 climbed in as Juan Maria struck the horses with the 

 whip, got on at the hind end, scrambled over the women 

 and children so that Juan should not break our necks 

 running the horses; and soon grabbed the reins and slowed 

 them to a walk. The women looked as if they had been 

 run through a threshing machine. Their calico dresses 

 were torn into strings, and they almost cried, until I 

 promised them a new dress apiece for getting them into 

 the scrape, when they laughed and seemed perfectly 

 satisfied. It was quite a contract, for good calico was 

 worth 25 cents a yard in Trinidad. We stopped at the 

 lower patch of bushes, but the women would not get out 

 till I had thrashed around in the brush for some time to 

 convince them that there were no more bears. 



They filled pails and baskets at last and we all went 

 home. They to a home that was home. I to a place 

 where I staid— one American alone with a horde of 

 savage, ignorant Mexicans around him. Well, there is 

 one comfort, 1 am well out of it. W. J. Dixon. 



THE BEAVER AND HIS SUNKEN WOOD. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I have just returned from my annual outing, and on 

 looking over the numbers of Forest and Stream that 

 came during my absence, I observed in the number dated 

 July 2 an article having the above heading, signed by 

 "Berlin." 



I wish to apologize to "Berlin" for what he terms my 

 "flippancy," and to assure him that I thought his first 

 article was really intended as a joke. I now see that he 

 was in deadly earnest, and as I have personally seen and 

 inspected many colonies of beaver when I was a young 

 man, I feel that I ought to try and make clear my posi- 

 tion of skepticism as to the manner in which "Berlin" 

 says the beaver accomplishes the feat. 



When a boy of 14 or 15 years of age, I began spending 

 my school vacations in the forest, in company with differ- 

 ent companions, some of them being well versed in wood 

 lore, and a love of nature was thus inculcated that has 

 continued to grow with the passing years. When about 

 the age of 30 (I cannot be just sure, as my notes of those 

 long past days were destroyed long ago by fire), I spent 

 two summers far from the haunts of man, and within 

 half a mile of two colonies of beaver. Many an hour, 

 both day and night, have I spent in trying to get ac- 

 quainted with this most interesting and sagacious of wild 

 creatures. I had a companion at that time, a man as 

 well versed in the ways of the "wood folk" as the most 

 enthusiastic youthful questioner could desire; and be- 

 tween my own observations and the information derived 

 from my campmate, I fancied that I had acquired a fair 

 knowledge of Castor jiher. Some years after vvard I also 

 had various opportunities of observing different familes 

 of beaver, in late fall and early winter, while deer hunt- 

 ing. All this was in the Megantic region, in Canada, and 

 neighboring parts of Maine. I mention all this only to 

 show that I know something of the subject I am writing 

 about. 



This question of sinking their wood, as provision for 

 the icy months of winter, was often discussed , and with 

 considerable pertinacity I endeavored to ascertain how it 

 was done, I have seen the bottom of their ponds literally 

 paved with pieces of alder, poplar, white birch and 

 other woods from the size of a pipe stem to 4 or 5in. in 

 diameter, cut in varying lengths. They did not seem to 

 be bedded in the mud, but only lay upon it. Disturb one 

 of them, and up it would bob like a cork. Now, where 

 can the theory of "sucking the air out" come in here? If 

 the air could be exhausted from the cells of the wood (of 

 which more hereafter), and replaced by water, the wood 

 would remain sunken when disturbed, and cotild not 

 float any more than any other "water-logged" piece of 

 wood. But this is just what the beaver's wood will not 

 do. It is like Banquo's ghost, and will not "down." Of 

 course, after it has lain upon the bottom for a long time 

 it will not rise, as it becomes thoroughly water-soaked, 

 but it takes considerable time for it to reach this stage- 

 certainly more than the first season, as all freshly cut 

 wood will rise quickly. This I personally know, as I have 

 often disturbed it. 



A few words about the theory of "sucking the air out" 

 will now be in order. I do not care to cast any ridicule 

 in my remarks, as any theory in regard to natural history, 

 honestly maintained, should be treated in all fairneps. 

 But let me ask "Berlin" how large a piepe of wood can he 



