Feb. 2, 1893.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



91 



guides, stopped at the homes of mountaineers and talked 

 with them long and often, ajid I am free to say that I 

 don't think we saw a single mormtaiiieer who would know 

 wha,t is meant by the hngo that oiu- dialect writers put in 

 their mouths. Several of them were indignant at the 

 way in which they have been represented. StUl, we met 

 a writer of dialect stories who was boarding in a town 50 

 miles away from the mountains for the pm-pose of writing 

 up these people whom she had never seen and never ex- 

 pected to see. Nor did we find the mountaineei-s living 

 on the top of such peaks as are found in the Great Smokies 

 or on any other high peaks, as readers of fiction would 

 expect. These mountains are ixninhabited wilds and the 

 mountaineers five in the coves and settlements at the base 

 of the mountains. 



Passing through Tuckaleeche Cove and leaving Cade's 

 Cove on our right, we began the ascent of Thunder Head. 

 The climb was steep and the trail rough. A shower came 

 up and gave us a wetting. As darlmess approached we 

 entered the "slicks," where it is dark even in daylight. 

 But we stumbled up and on. Our big man began to grow 

 weary, and two miles from the herder's hut, where we 

 hoped to sleep, surrendered his baggage to a less tired 

 comrade. For one mile further he struggled on, and then 

 lay down in the trail, declaring that he could not move 

 another foot. We fed and cheered him, and he struggled 

 on about 25yds. farther. Then he lay down once more, 

 and we spread one coat under him and another over him. 

 Two of the party went on to the herder's hut to see if help 

 cotild be secured, Avhile Dr. Smith and I remained to 

 •■'cheer the faint" and, if possible, "raise the fallen." A 

 few biscuits and a good deal of encouragement brought 

 him to his feet. Then, wath my arm to support him, he 

 tculed on to the hut — Spence's cabin. The two herders 

 were away, but five hunters had taken possession and 

 were asleep on a mattress in front of a blazing fire, for at 

 this altitude a good fire is necessary. In a pot we found 

 a wild turkey, which we would certainly have eaten had 

 it been done. As it was, we made some bread and fried 

 some bacon. Landon Smith and Myer lay down on the 

 floor. Devil Sam crowded in on one corner of the mattress, 

 and Dr. Smith and I took our rest on the bare slats of a 

 home-made cot, om- only covering being our gum coats. 

 But we slept never so sweetly. ' A twenty-rnile tramp 

 through the mountains will cure the very worst case of 

 insomnia and make its former victim chime in with 

 Sancho Panza in singing the Adrtues of sleep. 



Next morning we woke refreshed and ready to tramp 

 on. But we first cooked our peck of meal, as we had 

 numy miles to make before reaching another house. We 

 had for breakfast coffee, bacon, bread and wild turkey. 

 Mr. Myer's feet were in bad condition. Unfortunately, 

 he had worn a pair of new shoes and they, no doubtj 

 Were the source whence "sprung aU his woes," plus blis- 

 ters. But he was fuU of courage and, as "to return 'twere 

 tedious as to go o'er," we pushed on. A hard pull of a 

 mile and a quarter brought us to the summit of Thunder 

 Head, at an elevation of more than 5,000ft. Here, for 

 the first time, I realized the meaning of the term "the 

 everlasting hiUs." For adjectives suitable to the occasion. 

 I refer you to "In the Clouds." Chilhowee, Maryville 

 and Knoxville were visible in the distance, while at our 

 feet lay the little coves in which five the mountaineers 

 who manufacture illicit whisky. Twenty miles away 

 loomed up Chngman's Dome. And there were cattle on 

 the "everlasting hfils." The pasturage on these balds is 

 the finest I have ever seen and cattle are brought here 

 for many miles to graze on it. Two men build a little 

 hut and watch the cattle, salting them every fortnight, 

 for five months, for 13 cents per month for each animal. 

 The two in Spence's cabin had 700 in their care. All 

 these stock are fat. The only dangers they have to be 

 guarded against are occasional attacks from hungry 

 wolves and bears, which are sometimes found on the 

 mountains. 



But on we tramped toward Clingman's Dome. Soon 

 Devil Sam said, "Here's Bone Vahey, where the world 

 is cut e'enamost in two." And it did look like it. Far 

 down the precipitous sides of the moimtains lay Bone 

 Valley. It seemed that a man might jump right down 

 into it. Devil Sam sang the praises of the trout that 

 swim in the creek that rmis through Bone Valley, but so 

 far as I am concerned they may sport in its placid waters 

 forever. My rod and reel are for streams more accessi- 

 ble. One pa,rty of anglers did venture down once and it 

 took them all day to get out, and then their garments 

 had to be supplemented with leaves and sacks before 

 they cotdd face the eye of man. This dreaiy spot takes 

 its name from the fact that 300 head of cattle which were 

 wintering on the mountain strayed down here and 

 perished. 



The nomenclature of the Smokies is usually suggestive. 

 Huggins' HeU takes its name from a man named Huggins 

 who ^ot lost here and lay all night in a lam'el jungle, 

 listenmg to the howling of the wolves. When he got 

 out he said that if he owned both places, he'd rent out 

 this vaUey and take heU for a sunnner home. Defeat 

 Ridge and Desolation Pass are suggestive names, and I 

 was glad that we did not have to include them in our 

 route. It was more pleasant to look at them and hsten to 

 Sam's tales of then- horrors. 



Owing to Mr. Myer's lameness our pace was slow, and 

 for several hours we were without water. Our tong-ues 

 were parched and dry. Finally Sam and I drank some 

 dirty water out of a bear wallow, and he is confident that 

 it saved oiu- fives. About 4 o'clock we came quite sud- 

 denly to a beautiful opening clothed with long grass; and 

 to our joy Sam said: "This is Siler's meadow, and there's 

 a buUy spring close by." So there was, and we drank 

 long and deep. On my next tramp I shall certainly carry 

 a canteen. Much refreshed, we pushed on, the two light- 

 weights in front. Finally we sat down to wait for om- 

 companions, as we were near our destination. 



In a few minutes a tall, good-looking fellow, who had 

 a Winchester in his hands, approached from the opposite 

 direction. He was Mel McLean, one of the guides for a, 

 party from Asheville. From him we learned that the 

 Double Spring, where we had proposed to camp, had gone 

 ■dry. He asked us to come down to their camp, which 

 was not more than 200yds. away. We went and found 

 Messrs. George, Walter and Fred Erdman, of Asheville, 

 N. C. These young gentlemen gave us a most heartj-- 

 welcome, and their guide. Mat Massey, made oiur coffee 

 and cooked our bacon for us. Not' content with this, 

 thej- built an addition to their balsam tent and made an- 

 otlier huge fire for our benefit. Supper over, Devil Sam 

 tojd Tjis a long yarn about ri<Jing a steer through a hornet's 



nest, and then wound up with some miraculous bear 

 stories. Then we laid our heads on oui haversacks, 

 wrapped our gum coats about us and sou.ght sleep. Nor 

 was she a coy maiden. About the middle' of the night I 

 waked feehng very cold, and found that Sam had lain 

 down directly between me and the fire. 1 soon rooted 

 him out and slept comfortably for the rest of the night. 



In the morning om- parties separated with the under- 

 standing that we would meet that night at the nearest 

 house on the North Carolina side of the Smokies, we to 

 go across Clmgman's Dome and Andrew's Bald, and they 

 to take a shorter and better route. As the Erdmans ha? 

 two guides they kindly gave us one of them and we bade 

 Devil Sam Walker a kindly farewell. Had he lived fifty 

 years sooner Sam would have been a noted scout and In- 

 dian fighter. As it is, if you wish to do the Tennessee side 

 of the Smokies, you can not find a better guide than Sam 

 Walker. 



Leaving Sam to go home by way of Black Bill's, his chief 

 chum, we began the descent of Clingman's Dome. Here 

 we had four miles of as tough climbing as is possible. The 

 grass, weeds and briers were liigher than oirr heads and 

 wet with dew and fog. The trail was too faint to see and 

 faUen trees barred our way. Sometimes over, sometimes 

 under, sometimes arotmd, sometimes through, but at all 

 times up, we went. In ten minutes we were wet to the 

 skin. But at an altitude of 6,000ft. such discomforts are 

 not considered. At the Double Chinmeys we got a fine 

 view, but when we at last reached the summit of CHng- 

 man, 6,650ft. above the level of the sea, we could see 

 nothing save the tall timber that stood aroimd us. What 

 a pity that some one does not clear up the summit. We 

 foimd the rod left by the surveyors to mark the pinnacle. 

 All the w^ay from Thunder Head to Clingman we had fol- 

 lowed the line between the States of Tennessee and North 

 Carolina, but we were now to tramp in North Carolina. 

 Clingman's Dome is but 51ft. lower than Mt. Mitchell and, 

 next to it, is the highest point east of the Rocky Mountains. 



Going down Clingman we found a good trail and, after 

 a few miles of reasonably good walking, reached Andrew's 

 Bald, the prettiest spot we had seen. The water of a fine 

 spring was cold enough to make our teeth chatter, and 

 tlie view was grand. Landon Smith and I, who are not 

 coffee drinkers, concluded to try to milk a cow that had a 

 young calf. We enticed her Avith some salt, but she objected 

 to being milked, and after a severe struggle and a sharp 

 race we decided that we preferred buttermilk and gave 

 up the attempt. 



Down we went — at least 3000ft. in the next three nfiles, 

 and on the banks of Nolan's Creek we ate our dinner. 

 About this time it was discovered that this scribe and liis 

 trousere were about to part company. Mr. Smith kindly 

 agreed to be my tailor, so I divested myself of my nether 

 garments, and while he repaired them I cast a fly for 

 mountain troiit. Five strikes and three trout was the re- 

 sult of about twenty minutes of fishing. Poor little trout! 

 They Avere about as" large as the steel-back minnoAvs I use 

 tor bait Avhen fishing for bass, so I put them back and 

 wished them many long and happy days in their native 

 stream. No motmtain trout for me! I found the rest of 

 the party taking a bath in this ice-cold stream, but deferred 

 mine a couple of hours. 



About three o'clock we reached the house of Mr. Jen- 

 kins, where Ave found the Erdman party awaiting us. Mas- 

 sey had killed a turkey, Mrs. Jenkins cooked it and we 

 ate it. We had buttermilk and butter as firm as if fresh 

 from a refrigerator. Two of our party, Mr. Smith and 

 Mr. Myer, flung their weary limbs on a bed and were soon 

 asleep. The rest of us amused oiirselves in different Avays 

 until bed-time. Eleven of us slept in one room and a glor- 

 ious night's rest it was. The next morning was Sunday. 

 Dr. Smith and I decided to push on across the Cane Back 

 Mountain and up into the Indian Reseiwation , while the 

 Erdman party and our tAA^o jaded brothers walked doAvn 

 to Biyson City. Here the Erdmans took the ti'ain for 

 Asheville, while the rest of our party got horses and f ol- 

 io Aved us to YelloAv Hill. M. M. M iesey, Bryson City, N. 

 C, was our guide, and he is the best"l have ever "seen. 

 Forty years old, 5ft. 8in. high, weighing 1351bs., strong and 

 active, talkative but not a braggart, and thoroughly ac- 

 uainted with the mountains which he passionately loves, 

 commend him to all who wish to tramp or to hunt. He 

 never fails to find Avild turkeys, and, mirabile dictu, teUs 

 the truth about his exploits. Ten miles of this ti-amp Avas 

 tough walking. We ate dinner at a Mr. Nelson's, and got 

 a most excellent meal for 10 cents each. Thence on to 

 Yellow HiU and the Indians. W. D. Mooney. 



AN AMATEUR BREAKING IN. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



It has been my good fortune during the past season to 

 gratify a long-desired wish and to make an attempt to ac- 

 quii-e the noble art of shooting game birds on the wing 

 Avith the assistance of a faithful dog. Perhaps my ex- 

 perience may not be wholly uninteresting to the readers 

 of your A^aluable paper. 



I have no stories to teU of great quantities of game 

 brought to bag. In fact, I have made no large scores. 

 My experience is simply that of a man who, haA^ing had 

 previously to Oct. 1 practically no knowledge of this 

 most fascinating sport, undertook'to train a setter and in- 

 cidentally himself. 



My;boyhood was spent on the rocky hills of northern 

 New England. There it was my dehght to shoot Bonasa 

 vmbellus as he sat perched bolt upright, motionless, stiff 

 as a ramrod in the top of some pine or hemlock, Avhither 

 he had been driven by the barking of the water spaniel or 

 cur Avhich accompanied me to "tree" the game. The 

 water spaniel is tlie dog commonly used in those locaHties 

 for hunting the "patridge," as he is called by the farmers. 

 It was not often that I was gladdened by hearing the duU 

 thud of more than three or four of these noble bii-ds as 

 they fell from the trees in answer to the report of my 

 semi-hammerless in the course of an afternoon's shooting. 

 I remember thinking that I had done very well when my 

 score one faU ran up to forty -two raffed grouse, eight or 

 woodcock, as many snipe and numberless gray squirrels 

 and hares which I cared too Httle about to count. Many 

 a toilsome term of study at old Andover and afterward 

 at coUege were hghtened by joyous anticipations of the 

 time when vacation would allow me to throw books aside 

 and spend the whole livelong day (which was too shori^ 

 tramping with dog and gim the hills of my native town 

 seekmg much needed rest. I prized the hours of my 

 vacation aa Pippa, the poor silk-girl of Asolo prized the 



minutes of the one day in the whole year she coidd call 

 her own. 



I should not fail to mention also the sport which seemed 

 to me then very enjoyable, i. e., the shooting of the great 

 Northern hare as he circled ahead of one or two fox- 

 hounds, whose glorious music made the woods resotmd. 

 It was the timeful cry of the hounds that fascinated me, 

 not the killing of the white-coated game, I do not know 

 whether I A\'ould now find much pleasure in that method 

 of hunting, but I am siu'e that the sound of hounds in full 

 cry will always be to me one of the most delightful of sen- 

 sations. The m ost elaborate mterpretations of the "music 

 of the future" to which it has been my good fortune to 

 listen have vever thriUed my nerves as has that wHdwood 

 melody. 



Toward the last of my shooting in the North I began to 

 try to kiU my birds flying when I got a good open shot. I 

 killed aU the woodcock mentioned above and some snipe 

 and ruffed grouse in that way, but a trained setter or 

 pointer I had never seen. My attempts at wing shooting 

 Avere mspired by George William Herbert's book called, I 

 believe, "Field Sports of America." I do not refer to his 

 sporting novels or his compilation on the subjects of fish 

 and large game, but to that work which gives his own ex- 

 perience in woodcock, quail and snipe shooting in New 

 Jersey, New York and elsewhere. 



I have occasionaUy read copies of the Forest and 

 Stream and other journals of field sports to while away a 

 weary hour of railroad travel, but I believe I have never 

 known any writer to speak enthusiastically of Frank For- 

 rester's work. Perhaps I am mistaken about the appre- 

 ciation in Avhich he is held. Possibly I have over-esti- 

 mated his worth. I have not read him for years but I 

 used to think he should be to the lover of the gun what 

 Izaak Walton is to the angler of cidtivated tastes. I grant 

 that the piscatores have a far better range of literature in 

 which to enjoy themselves than we who are devoted to 

 the dog and gun, but I beHeve that in that portion of Her- 

 bert's works to Avhich I have alluded we have something 

 as good as anything they can point to. 



As I have said, inspired by Frank Forrester, I had just 

 begun to try to kill my birds in a sportsmanlike way 

 when I had to drop the gim completely. My profession 

 called me to colleges and universities' where I had no 

 time or opportunity for shooting. For years I had not 

 used a gun . 



But this last October, on coming to the place at which 

 I am now living, I learned to my great pleasure that I 

 Avas in a fine quail country. I soon became convinced 

 that I must have a dog. A friend, the editor of a local 

 newspaper, a thoi'oughgoing sportsman and a capital 

 shot, secured for me an imtrained setter one year old. 

 It had never been taken into the field. 



I chained up my acquisition with some misgivings. He 

 seemed a fine-looking dog, but I knew nothing about the 

 marks of a weU-bred setter. I had grave doubts about 

 my ability to train him or to kill anything over him if hu 

 gave me an opportunity. 



However, I thought 1 would see if he had the natural 

 instincts, and the next afternoon I hastened with him to 

 a field where I knew there were a beA^ of quail. I had 

 plied my friend the editor with questions on the methods 

 of training dogs, but I had a very indefinite idea of the 

 way that I should set about to accomplish a task that 

 seemed so diificult. I had, however, a plan of my own 

 invention for teaching him to retrieve if he should show 

 bird sense. 



On reaching the field a bevy was flushed before the dog 

 had a chance to find them, and I killed one as they rose. 

 Taking the dog up to the dead bird he quivered all over 

 and took it into his mouth Avith an expression that showed 

 unmistakably that he had never before experienced so ex- 

 tra,ordina,ry a sensation. I then put in operation my plan 

 for teaching him to retrieve. It was very simple, but 

 proved effective. Instead of hastening to take the bird 

 away, I let him have it and walked away, calling 

 him after me. I thought he Avould not like to leave the 

 bird and so would bring it. I was not mistaken. He 

 brought it over a high rail fence for 150yds. through the 

 corn, Avhen I took it from his mouth, patting him as I did 

 so. Following up the bevy in a ragweed patch, Scott sud- 

 denly stiffened out into as pretty a point as one could wish 

 to see. I was dehghted, for I kncAv then that he had the 

 natviral instincts. He remained perfectly steady while I 

 walked up and kicked the bird out of the weeds within a 

 foot of his nose. I kfiled it and made the dog follow 

 again with the bird in his mouth. Since then he has re- 

 trieved well. Several more stands were made, and having 

 killed another bird, I returned with them, feeling proud 

 of the dog's first attempts. 



I was a little too hasty, however, for the next time my 

 confidence was badly shaken, I had forgotten about the 

 danger of nmning rabbits. None had been found the 

 first time, but no sooner had I entered the field on the fol- 

 lowing day than the dog went ki-yi-ing like a cur till 

 bunny disappeared in a thicket. I boxed his ears soundly, 

 but in less than three minutes the performance Avas re- 

 peated. My feelings may be imagined, I gave him all 

 the punishment I coxild administer. When my hand had 

 become too tired to box his ears long, I used up all the 

 sticks that were at hand, varying the blows Avith sundry 

 apphcations of a heavy hunting shoe. I realized that that 

 was hardly the ideal Avay to train a dog. It was breaking 

 rather than training, but the circumstances seemed to 

 demand strong measures. The lesson proved effective, 

 and since that time I have had no trouble on that score. 

 I have hunted him two or three times a week throughout 

 the season, ahvays preferring to let him go rather than to 

 lose any opportunity to teach the dog his duty. I believe 

 that I have noAV an animal of more than usual merit. I 

 have become very enthusiastic on the subject of quail 

 shooting. Already I have begun to look foi-ward impa- 

 tiently to the time in the spring when I can train my dog 

 on snipe. 



I have received a, great deal of pleasure from my after- 

 noons afield this past autumn. No small part of my en- 

 joyment has come from seemg the dog develop as the 

 result of my own handling. I would advise every man 

 who intends to seek health or diversion m this form of 

 out of door exercise to get a young dog and train it him- 

 self. A Disciple of Frank Forrester, 



An Opinion After Fifteen Years. 



Yotr hare now been sending me the Forest and Stream for nearly 

 fifteen years. At the beginning I ranked it among the very first in its 

 particular sphere, and to-day I consider it far ahead of what it was 



Forked Dkkb. 



