Sept. 33, 1893.J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



24S 



awhite shrotid.of snow coTers the ground, and you are 

 chill ed into utter dreariness. 



SuiTOundings are an important factor in producing 

 these eifects, but after all it is the wind that is chiefly 

 responsible for the impressions one receives. 



WiLMOT TOWNSEND. 



A CAMPER'S DiARY.— III. 



Aug. 19.— The Narrows, 5:30 P. M.— Well, we left 

 Flint's this morning, rather late, in a mountain wagon 

 and climbed the road to the head of AzLscohos Falls. 

 Found the canoes all right on shore. A birch-bark and a 

 canvas, both well seasoned and acclimated, both still 

 staunch. The birch-bark, lithe, graceful, quite aborigi 

 nal. They seemed coy and unstable as we shoved them 

 on the stream, but when each had got its load of property 

 bags, camp fry, and tent paraphernalia, it settled down 

 steady as a schooner. I stowed a small can of worms 

 carefully in the bow and stood some chaffing from the 

 fellow with the newest fly-rod. Had the presence of 

 mind to abstract an extra paddle from the bank where it 

 lay, expecting to go back in the wagon. We may need it. 



Well, Mack and I stowed ourselves in the canvas, with 

 Mack on a butter keg in the bow, and the birch-bark 

 took the lead and disappeared round the bend with Val- 

 entine doing the galley slave in the bow, and Sam all 

 doubled under a little gray hat peering vpisely ahead like 

 a woodsman, with his paddle dropping soft and easy in 

 the bubbling wake. 



The river here is clear and cold, wide enough to swim 

 a little steamer and deep enough to drown her, but the 

 shores are low, with expanse of water making in at times 

 among the bog. There's wilderness enough, but ghastly. 

 The trees along the shore, still standing, are drowned. 



We reached this place at 3:30 and climbed the bank 

 in the rain. No one had been here this season and the 

 wet grass was high and untrodden. The camp stones 

 were all right and the path to the spring faintly visible. 

 I'm writing this in the tent with the flap open. It took 

 some time to get the fire going, but now it holds its own 

 and turns the rain to steam. Sam bends over, stirring a 

 pail of rice, while the water drips from his hat brim and 

 sizzles ''. a the coals. Valentine looms up under his rub- 

 ber blanket, with axe in hand, dignified as a policeman. 

 Mack's canvas coat, well saturated, has lost all offensive 

 traits of newness. One foot rests in a puddle and the 

 other on a hot stone, toasting brown and steaming; but 

 he's oblivious of all except the things on the fire where 

 the hot odors come from. His eyes are fixed in a mes- 

 meric stare and his chops are dripping, Sam says, "Sup- 

 per's ready!" * * * Two hours later. I'm writing this 

 inside the tent, the others outside. After supper it 

 stopped raining, so we were disposed to sit round and 

 sigh and pick our teeth and contemplate our fat stomachs, 

 but Sam gave us no peace. He commenced picking up 

 things. 



"Well, there's a little dab o' tomatoes for some one in 

 the morning. Cover up that condensed milk. Mack, bugs 

 get all in. Come, Jeff, you and Mack going to wash 

 dishes while Valentine gets another log. Get a spruce 

 now, Val. 



Jo Valentine stalks off with the axe without a word, 

 as if he knew the difference between spruce and fir. It 

 was light then, but it's dark and muggy now, and the 

 fire makes a red halo, crowding back the'night. They're 

 sll three hanging over it now, throwing off queer 

 shadows, drying underwear and things, Sam has just 

 rolled up a shirt with a good deal of smoke and soot in- 

 side. No doubt the smoke and soot are warm though. 

 Now he's taking an observation of the sky and says, 

 "Let's kick her out, boys, it's going to settle down for an 

 old sockdodger." 



The reason I am putting down all these little details is 

 so I can read them about twenty-five years from now 

 and look back and grow young. This diary shall be my 

 Fountain of Youth, Happy thought, Old'Ponce should 

 have gone camping and kept a diary. 



Aug. W.-^his is what I call "communing with nature." 

 Waked this morning with my head in the grass, slightly 

 lower than my feet and near enough for the rain to spat- 

 ter in. Then I tried to count and classifiy a horde of in- 

 sects crawling on the white roof, and reflected that most 

 of them in the night had been taking liberties with my 

 person, secreting themselves, and probably some were 

 there now— in my hair, no doubt. Then Mack waked up 

 and said he hadn't slept a wink all night on account of 

 mosquitoes, on account of the noise they made. He com- 

 menced punching Valentine to make him wake and tell 

 him what he dreamt last night. "He must have had 

 some fine dreams last night; this beats the steamer all 

 out.'' 



So Valentine yawned and sat up in hia red blanket, and 

 finally looked intelligent and said : 



"I dreamed that a thousand mosquitoes came at me last 

 night, and that oil of lavender I puc on kept them off. I 

 dreamed it." 



Then we pounded Sam into wakefulness to get his 

 opinion of the weather. He doubled up, untied a breadth 

 of curtain and poked his nose out. Then he tied it up 

 and rolled back in his bag again mumbling. All we 

 could make out was: 



"Won't clear off in a week — my mind," 



Mack says: "What can you expect with all the minis- 

 ters in New England praying for it?" 



****** Same night. There's mutiny in camp. 

 Been here all day in the drizzle, and Sam says we'll move 

 to-morrow, rain or shine. The worst of it is there's no 

 trout along here— all chubs, I'm getting solicitous about 

 my bait. Forgot and left them out in the rain last night. 

 Mack says they'll never live to die in Parmacheme. 

 Says they're getting languid already, and prescribed meal, 

 so I sxji'inkled some. 



After dinner he and I paddled off' for wood and landed 

 on a point near an old log camp. We found some good 

 long spruce butts prone in the grass, and went at them. 

 Mack swung the ax awhile, and said : 



"By George, Jeff! look at the size of those chips, will 

 you?" So I went oft' and got a chip at the foot of a stump, 

 a regular old logger's chip, and then he wondered what 

 kind of an ax that fellow must have had. Then he 

 picked up a log two sizes too big for him, and staggered 

 off with it hugging tight on his shoulder and the wet 

 bark rubbing oft" on his neck. I heard it when it went 

 mto the boat. When we got back to camp Valentine was 

 down on the bank with my rig and landing net and the 

 precious box of bait. Said, he was going to praetice a 



little on chubs. He made bad work putting on the bait- 

 squirmed as much as the worm did, and then said: 



•'No, but seriously, fellows, d'y'suppose the hook really 

 hurts the worm?" 

 "No" says Mack, "just tickles itm to death." 

 Aug. m —Camp on the Forks. Left the Narrows yester- 

 day morning- for a twelve mile paddle, intending to reach 

 the permanent camp by night. The scenery kept imurov- 

 ing and at last grew wholly satisfying. We started a few 

 duck, and a heron or two, but saw no habitation of man 

 except the log camp at the Meadows. The river held its 

 width and volume all the way, but now the long quiet 

 stretches are all behind and there's a deep persistence in 

 the current. Bubbles and light debris come swiftly round 

 the bend, and dust atoms and little things seem starting 

 from the shore to fall in the wake and go quickly by. 

 Paddling got monotonous, irksome, utterly tiresome, but 

 at last brought us in the evening to the foot of the long, 

 quick water. We tried it, but the boats, lost to all sense 

 of buoyancy, seemed setthng under their load, and be- 

 haved like schooners. Sam says "We'll camp here to- 

 night and get out a towing line in the morning." So 

 this morning we knotted all the ropes together, made one 

 end fast to the Birch, with her usual baggage and crew, 

 and Mack and I scrambled along shore to a point 50yds. 

 above. It was here the Birch Bark developed latent de- 

 pravity. When the line tightened she shot into ^le cur- 

 rent, and in spite of the arguments of both paddles, hung 

 broadside across, with the river piling against her. We 

 leaned back for a harder pull and then came a crv from 

 two men's voices, not blending, but discordant, "Let go! 

 let go-oob! " so we dropped it like a snake. I was too far 

 back to see, but the expression on Mack's face looking 

 down, told the story; a look of horror. When we got 

 there, they were standing up to their middles, making 

 grabs at floating bagg&ge. The Birch Bark was docile in 

 the dead water made by their obstructing the current. 



That was a dismal time. Of course it was raining and 

 the river was right up under the bushes, without a little 

 beach or dry spot for them to land on. Mack and I 

 offered to wade in and be miserable, too, but they said 

 "No," so we let them dictate. The boat had gone clear 

 over with just the extremities sticking up, and most of 

 the baggage staid inside with the water. One paddle 

 went away— cost a dollar, I guess— and a little ax of 

 Sam's— his pet— was no more seen. That made him de- 

 jected, and he stood there with a mixed up lot of expres- 

 sions on his face. He was trying to look the master of 

 ceremonies, as if a thing like this was quite a matter of 

 course in his line, and happening every day or so, but he 

 did not succeed very well on account of the lines of daub 

 on his face, and the shivering effect of the water. All I 

 could make out was he was stai-ing oft' absently and 

 fiercely training his mustache. A?"alentine brought him 

 to by remarking he could see something on the bottom; 

 "something shining." His glasses were dim and he 

 couldn't dry them, so Sam made a shade of his hand and 

 peeped down. Then he looked round with a satisfied 

 smile and said, "Ah! canned goods!"' He poked about 

 carefully with his shoes, "treading quahaugs," smiled 

 again, reached down and came back dripping. "Then," 

 said Mack, "you ought to have seen the disgusting look 

 get on Sam's face when he discovered that box of bait." 



Alas, my box of bait. It had gone into the wrong 

 canoe in the hurry of loading. I felt wrong when I dis- 

 covered it. I had a premonition then. 



Alas, my box of bait. It struck the water so far away 

 you couldn't hear it strike. You could just see the splash, 



Jeffjikson Scribb. 



AN INTERESTING PET. 



Some years ago, in the spring, while traveling on the 

 Belfast Branch R,R, just before arriving at Brook Sta- 

 tion, I chanced to be looking outthe car window and saw 

 a curious looking animal run under a pile of brush in a 

 gravel pit near the track. I concluded at once that it 

 must be an albino woodchuck, as my husband had told 

 me one had been seen in that vicinity. At the sta- 

 tion I hastily procured a basket and securing the assist- 

 ance of two boys, I proceeded without loss of time to the 

 gravel pit, and overhauling some of the brush soon 

 found the prize. As I had conjectured it was an albino 

 woodchuck about two-thirds grown, pure white, with 

 pink eyes, and as saucy a little fellow as one would care 

 to handle. Without much difficulty I dropped my basket 

 over him, and securing him, returned to the station, 

 boxed him up and expressed him home to my husband, 

 with instructions to keep him on a milk diet until my re- 

 turn a week later. 



On returning home I found my pet ensconced in a nest 

 of cotton, purring away like a contented kitten. He 

 seemed quite reconciled to the restraints of captivity, had 

 already become so tame as to allow his beautiful snow- 

 white coat to be stroked, and seemed especially to enjoy 

 gentle stroking about the face, which I think is a char- 

 acteristic of most wild animals, and one of the readiest of 

 establishing confidential relations with them. For the 

 first year his food consisted principally of bread and 

 milk, with an occasional handful of plantain leaves, A 

 most interesting sight was to watch him while being fed. 

 He would sit up like a squirrel, holding his food in his 

 paws. He soon learned to take his milk from a spoon ; 

 grasping it near the bowl he would hold it very gracefully 

 until the milk was all lapped out, then with a little as- 

 sistance would return it to the cup to be filled, and re- 

 peat the operation until his appetite was satisfied. Then 

 he would go into his nest, roll himself up like a kitten 

 and take a nap of several hours. With one exception he 

 never showed his wild, savage nature during the two 

 years of his life in confinement. 



Early in the fall the disposition to hibernate began to 

 show itself by his lack of activity, and he remained in 

 his nest most of the time, his sleep becoming so profound 

 that he could be taken from the nest without awaking. 

 About the 1st of November his sleep for the winter be- 

 gan : he was placed;in the cellar, where the temperature 

 was very even— just above the freezing point— and here 

 he remained without being disturbed until the middle of 

 March. 



Dm-ing all this time bis body remained cold and to all 

 outward appearances lifeless. About the time of his 

 awaking in March, upon visiting liim and placing my 



hand on his body, I found it to be quite warm, and after 

 rubbing him for a few moments he began to yawn and 

 stretch, but did not get upon his feet. The next day I 

 took him into a warm room in order to watch the process 

 of awakening, rubbing bis body and legs for an hour or 

 more. He seemed quite indifferent to my solicitude on 

 his behalf, but gradually awakened, opened his eyes, 

 chattered his teeth and gave that peculiar whicker so 

 characteristic of a disturbed woodchuck. 



His efforts to stand upon his feet were for some hours 

 ineffectual: he seemed to have lost the use of them. 

 Toward night, however, he seemed to regain full control 

 of all his faculties, and partook of a little milk. I was 

 surprised to notice but little loss of fat during the long 

 period of sleep. He had become excessively fat before 

 gomg into hia winter sleep, and expected that would be 

 absorbed during that period. His fur had become long 

 and of a beautiful sivery gloss, so white and silky that it 

 was really a pleasure to stroke and pet him. 



Upon his first awakening and for a day or two he 

 seemed to have forgotten his friends, and manifested his 

 wild nature so much as to make himself very disagree- 

 able. He ate with a voracious appetite and began to grow 

 thin. In a few days he became a mere skeleton of his 

 former self, and for several weeks, until Jime 1, did not 

 begm to take on flesh. He now displayed more activity 

 than any other time during the year. 



The following winter his sleep was interrupted once in 

 two weeks. This was done by wrapping him in warm 

 flannels and placing in a warm room; he partook of but 

 little food, and during the period of two days of broken 

 rest he seemed very uneasy. About the last of March, 

 when he should have awakened to activity, he was taken 

 sick, and died in convulsions after a sickness of two days. 

 I now have him nicely mounted in my collection, among 

 which are several albinos, but none so perfect as my beau- 

 tiful pet. 



The woodchuck has often been spoken of as a stupid 

 and uointeresting animal, but my own experience was 

 quite dift'erent. My husband is a great lover of pets, and 

 possesses the rare faculty of controlling them almost at 

 will. When in the woods I have often seen him approach 

 a squirrel and feed it from his hand with nuts or a bit of 

 bread. And many a long tramp have we taken to secure 

 some coveted specimen. He is one of the few that never 

 wantonly destroy life in bird or animal; were there more 

 such men our forests would now abound with game. 



Special. 



MINKS AND THEIR WAYS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



One of your correspondents has asked if minks climb 

 trees. My observation is that there are two varieties of 

 mink. The more common is reddish brown in color and 

 is found on creeks and water courses feeding mostly 

 on fish. The other variety has a very shining jet black 

 fur, and is found in the deep forests far from creeks or 

 any flsb-bearing water. 



I was walking through the woods one fine October day 

 some miles north of Muskegon Lake in Michigan. It was 

 an oak forest. Acorns were falling and black squirrels 

 abundant. What I took to be a black squirrel started up 

 a few yards in front of me and running a short distance 

 began to climb a large oak. As he was disappearing on 

 the opposite side of the oak as the custom of squirrels is 

 in climbing a tree, something in his motion attracted my 

 attention, so that, after passing the tree, I looked up to 

 see if the supposed squirrel was yet in sight. About 40ft. 

 up on the body of the oak was a fine large specimen of 

 black mink. I shot it and passed on. 



Again in a heavy forest about six miles from water I 

 found where a mink had established himself by the body 

 of a deer killed by some hunter and not found. The 

 mink had his holes in some rotten wood a few feet from 

 his fortunate supply of food. The men with me dug him 

 out and it was a black specimen. 



Fishing one day on a creek in Utah, my companion 

 called my attention to a large hawk sitting on the largest 

 of several small trees growing in a clump on the creek 

 bank. On our approach the hawk left in unusual fright, 

 and a naink was seen on the tree, and within reach of the 

 hawk when he left. They were some 15ft. from the 

 ground. I infer, therefore, that both varieties of mink 

 climb trees in pursuit of birds like a cat, but that the 

 black variety, from necessity, climbs most often, I have 

 often been amused to see with what cunning minks try to 

 conceal themselves. It is by curling up like a kitten and 

 lying still just when they discover danger, if no cover is 

 near. I saw one do it on top of a heap of dry brush, 

 one on greensward by the bank of a creek. Shooting at 

 the mink, my bullet passed through its body three times. 



Geokge H. Wyman. 



Boise Citv, Idaho. 



[Only one species of American mink is known. This 

 varies greatly in color from reddish to almost black. 

 Several of the mink's near relatives, as the marten and 

 the fisher, are most expert tree climbers and pass much of 

 their time among the branches of the trees.] 



"That reminds me." 

 Z HAD passed through the various stages from devil to 

 associate editor on a large city paper. Feeling the 

 weight of business cares and the need of recreation he 

 availed himself of the invitation of a relative, A, to spend 

 his vacation in the country. A had planned a hunting 

 trip, and as Z had never handled a gun, A had some 

 difficulty in teaching him the use of it. However, he 

 soon became fairly proficient in its use, and bagged 

 several birds. Upon returning to the house, as was his 

 habit, A fired his muzzleloader into the air and told Z to 

 do the same, which he did. As he did so one of the 

 hammers blew off and struck his ear, cutting it quite 

 severely. He never flinched, and did not notice that the 

 hammer was missing, but very stoically remarked, "Say, 

 A, guns make some very queer sensations in a fellow's 

 head, don't they? At first it faii'ly deafened me, and 

 made my ears ring for some time; and now when I shot 

 it made my right ear sting as if it had been cut, and it 

 feels as if there was blood running down my neck," A 

 collapsed. Perkito, 



