J\n-. 0. 1S9kl' 



die held ready above the water. Each knew perfectly 

 his duty, and each was ready to do it as perfectly when 

 the moment for action should come. I sat as still as they 

 and wondered which one of us would crawl out. beyond 

 that tumbling wall of white, under which the smooth 

 green steep of water plunged. 



Our canoe seemed to me to pause an instant at the 

 crest — then down we went. I had no more than time to 

 note that the surface of the water beside me was marked 

 by fine parallel lines, and that the wind made no ripples 

 on its face. There was a smother of foam, a canoe full 

 of water and empty of men. 



It was early for breakfast; nevertheless I thought that 

 it would be better to go ashore at once. Three Indians 

 started to help me as soon as we came to the surface, but 

 they turned to the canoe when they saw me pull for the 

 shore. Fully an hour passed in drying our things, before 

 we were paddling down the river again. The men jested 

 and laughed, and 1 felt better satisfied than when I 

 looked down on that rapid from its head. 



Many a time I stepped overboard and waded among the 

 boulders beside the many rapids in that wild stream, 

 while the men took the pipanti to the dpeper water below. 

 As the craft was of solid mahogany, 30ft. long and nearly 

 3ft. wide, the task took a deal of what an Orkney sailor I 

 know calls "Scotch navigation — main strength and 

 stupidity." 



When traveling on wild rivers was new to me, I used 

 to step gingerly from the canoe to the stones at the head 

 of the portage, particularly early in the day, and then 

 pick my way along from stone to stone until my foot 

 would slip, a bucketful of water, more or less, would 

 shoot up my legs and fill my shoes. After that I did not 

 wait to make a landing, but at once stepped into the 

 the river and waded ashore when portage was to be made 

 that day. Later I gave up all thought of keeping my 

 feet dry, and found that my comfoi'twas much enhanced. 

 This is easier in the tropics, where the water in rivers is 

 seldom below 74° F. in temperature, than it might be 

 where the water is colder, and rheumatism tugs at one's legs. 



Toward nightfall one day one of my Payas lifted his 

 voice in a loud yell and another fired a gun. Then I knew 

 that we wore approaching a house, for these signals were 

 but the ringing of the bell, the sendiDg of a card to 

 announce callers, that the ladies may have time to dress 

 for company. Our paddles stopped and we idly drifted 

 while the men put on their cotten blouses, which were 

 their dr^ss suits. From down the river came the melo- 

 dious notes of a conch shell and we soon after rounded 

 a bend. 



Before us spread the broad Rio TJampu. On the high 

 bank at the junction stood half a dozen leaf -thatched 

 huts without a sign of walls. Before them the ground 

 was clean swept, packed smooth and hard by the passing 

 of bare feet of generations. Beyond the houses was a 

 patch of banana, of yucca and of pineapples, which was 

 a blessed sight for one who had become tired of a diet of 

 tapir and turkey, of lizard and of monkey, and longed 

 for fruit and vegetables. 



An old woman stood knee-deep in the river at the em- 

 barcadero, her back toward us. She pretended to be too 

 old, and wise and dignified, or too well bred, to notice 

 us. With the juacalita, which is a little bowl made of 

 the half of a calabash shell, she showered water over two 

 or three blankets spread on the sands to bleach in the 

 brilliant sunshine. They had been beaten out from the 

 bark of the tuno, that tree from which a gum is drawn 

 to adulterate the India rubber which these people gather 

 thereabout and sell to innocent traders for stuff that 

 they call rum, for slazy cottons from English looms and 

 for sheet iron shotguns from Birmingham. Each of the 

 old woman's blankets was adorned by a curious device 

 drawn with red coloring of some kind that resisted the 

 bleaching action of water and of sunshine. 



As I climbed the bank a group of considerably more 

 than half-naked boys and girls scurried away to various 

 hiding-places, from which to peer curiously at the white 

 stranger. Younger tots, as naked as eels, but lighter than 

 eels in complexion, peeped from behind their mothers' 

 skirts — not skirts exactly, perhaps, but guayapins that 

 reached from hips to knees ; such garments as their 

 ancestors made of the tuno bark, or of cloth woven in 

 primitive looms from such cotton as even now grows on 

 perennial trees in those regions. The guayapin is now 

 often nothing more than a couple of yards of denims 

 wrapped about the hips. 



A white-headed patriarch shook open the best of the 

 hammocks that was swung from post to post across the 

 house. I accepted the mute invitation and seated myself. 

 His buxom young wife, plump, smiling and shining with 

 a fresh rubbing of oil, dipped from a great clla of red 

 pottery a calabash full of yucca. With widespread 

 fingers she raked from the bowl the woody fibers of the 

 root and squeezed them out, then handed the bowl to me. 

 Surely it could not have been seasickness that I felt as I 

 looked at the milky liquid, but a qualm from some other 

 cause. But rejection of that drink offering would have 

 been a hurt to the hostess, if not a distinct declaration of 

 unfriendliness to the whole household. Down went the 

 drink, and I lived unhurt after. The thin white gruel 

 was slightly acid, cool, refreshing and nutritious. 



A bare girl of three or four years — one cannot say sum- 

 mers where all the year is like our Northern June — peeped 

 from behind her mother's guayapin. I untied from about 

 my neck a gorgeous triumph of the weaver's art, a turkey 

 red kerchief of cotton nearly a yard square and tendered 

 it to the baby. She was too shy to offer to take the 

 tempting gift from the stranger and far too timid for any 

 white man to approach nearly. So I handed the present 

 to the mother. She promptly and proudly draped it about 

 her darling. That assured me a welcome in every house in 

 that tribe. 



A dainty damsel of ten years or thereabout crossed the 

 room before me three or four times before I noticed her 

 particularly. Men are stupid. But I won her forgiveness 

 of my masculine obtuseness by praising the elegance of 

 her dress, the skill shown in her beadwork, the jetty, 

 glistening beauty of her heavy, wavy t air and shining 

 eyes — so like those of her mother. I nxed the good im- 

 pression by giving to the girl a lovely round mirror that 

 was nearly 3in. across, framed in a zinc case that had a 

 loop of bright, brass wire to hang it by. It was a gift 

 that she will proudly treasure, perhaps until she is old 

 enough to marry. Mayhap it will even help to secure 

 for her a wealthy husband, and she'll need such a pro- 

 vide^ for she was a dressy, extravagant coquette when I 

 knew her, and she was but a child, 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



Then she wore a splendid guayapin, and that was an 

 extravagance, a puttin' on of airs, for a miss of her 

 years should have been content with a palpura of calico 

 at most, or even one of soft bark, if she could not go 

 clad in her native modesty alone, as children of five or 

 six commonly do in her home. But no. She must boast 

 a guayapin that would at once declare her high social 

 standing and wealth of her family, and plant bitter envy 

 in the hearts of all the rest of her tribe. 



Her guayapin was a broad yard of cotton from a loom 

 in Yankee land. From the middle of it a glowing golden 

 sun shot its rays to the farthest corner of the red field by 

 which it was surrounded. Around each arm, near the 

 shoulder, and about each leg, just below the knee, was 

 wound a long string of beads of various colors. They 

 were so strung that when wrapped around her plump 

 brown limbs the different colors formed simple devices or 

 patterns. 



On her brow orange-colored pigment made a crescent 

 and two stars. Similar designs were on the brow of the 

 mother, but she had on her cheeks crosses and waving 

 lines that were not on the cheeks of her daughter. Pos- 

 sibly the mother's extra adornments were insignia per- 

 taining especially to the family of her husband. 



Dinner was served. After Iliad eaten of the ripe plan- 

 tains fried in the sweet fat of the black monkey, of yucca 

 roots pearly white and mildly acid, black frijolitas or 

 beans that are better than any other beans, pineapple of 

 vast size and exceeding sweetness, aud inguana, white, 

 sweet and tender, I was ready for business. The Indians 

 were astonished. Why one should attend to business after 

 eating dinner and before sleeping was more than they 

 could understand. But perhaps that is the custom of 

 those Americans of the North — anything may be expected 

 of such a strange people. They do not seem to have 

 learned that "manafia es otro dia," and since to-morrow 

 will be another day there is no need of hurry, which is 

 undignified. 



But I called my crew of Payas and to each of the four I 

 counted out one twenty-cent piece for each day we had 

 been on the way. Each counted his coin, the whole 

 neighborhood generously assisting. I asked each in his 

 turn, "Is it enough? Is it as much as I agreed to pay?" 



"Si, sefior; it is all," each replied, while the chief of the 

 Sumo wagged his snowy head in approval, and his wife 

 wagged her tongue in gentle approbation and broadly 

 smiled on all ; for she was a good-natured woman and 

 most motherly in spirit. 



Then I opened a bag that had wrung sweat out of one 

 of those Payas on many a hillside, back there in the 

 woods. Out of the bag I took a kerchief for each of the 

 men. Broad grins spread over — around, to be more ac- 

 accurate — their shining brown faces as they bashfully took 

 the goods. The spectators commented volubly on my 

 generosity, and looked envious. I took from the bag a 

 prodigious wealth of pretty beads, and to each of the 

 crew presented a string, and told him it was for his wife; 

 whereat the women laughed delightedly, and joked the 

 two who had no wives. But when to those bounteous 

 gifts I added a round mirror and a coarse comb — I knew 

 that they needed fine combs far more — a gasp of amaze- 

 ment went through the spectators, while the crew were 

 overburdened by gratitude, and astounded that they had 

 not before suspected that their passenger was a person of 

 such boundless wealth; a man who could squander riches 

 with so prodigal a hand. And that they were sincerely 

 grateful I had ample evidences many a time afterward. 



D. E. Veras. 



"FOREST AND STREAM" AT THE FAIR. 



The reproduction of World's Fair photographs pub- 

 lished in Forest and Stream bring vividly to mind the 

 vanished beauties of the wonderful "White City," and 

 some of them, such as the "Indian" and the "Cowboy," 

 many recollections of long past days in the Indian nation 

 never to return. I have not learned what is to be the 

 final disposition of these statues, or of those of the game 

 animals which formed such prominent and attractive 

 features on the grounds, but I hope that they may be 

 placed where I can renew my acquaintance with them 

 some day. 



I also rejoice that "Billy" Hofer's model lounge has 

 been secured by the Forest and Stream representative. 

 I liked that lounge. It was roomy and comfortable, and 

 took me back to the regions and habitations where the 

 choicest boudoirs are furnished exclusively — or nearly so 

 — with raw or dressed hides. I hope again to lunch on 

 that lounge when I go to Chicago and trust that no 

 objection will be raised if "the neighbors" send in the 

 luncheon. 



Yes, the hunter's cabin was a good thing, and I have 

 just begun to get at the true inwardness of that old rifle 

 business. When I first entered the cabin there was in 

 authority therein only a Columbian guard. I asked for 

 Crockett's rifle and was shown a weapon which leaned 

 against a saddle banging on the wall. I poised the gun 

 and said promptly: "That's not Davy Crockett's rifle, 

 neither the one which was given him in Philadelphia 

 nor that which he took on his memorable and fated trip 

 to Texas." The guard supposed that it was, however, a 

 relic of Davy, and, indeed, I was afterward told by one 

 who thought he knew that this rifle was Crockett's and 

 had been sent as such by Mr. Roosevelt. It now appears 

 that it probably belonged to Kit Carson, which is likely. 

 I have seen and handled scores of such weapons in Car- 

 son's time. The Villalonga rifle was in its time a very 

 elegant weapon and did good service in its owner's hands. 



Ah, well. Time flies, yet I seem to hear the notes of 

 the marimba under the trees of Costa Rica, and to see the 

 ladies sitting about over their coffee among the Forest 

 and Stream representatives, with the mountain hat of 

 Billy Hofer conspicuously in the midst. (Those city 

 editors didn't seem to mind that hat any more than they 

 did my thick boots.) And Billy was a treasure. I came 

 upon him one day in the forest when he was in the act 

 of offering assistance to a distressed wcod nymph. He 

 told her that the hunter's cabin could supply the means 

 to meet any emergency, and proved it; for she departed 

 radiant and happy, having been offered a choice of elk 

 sk n or buckskin "whangs." or of more prosaic threads 

 for the renovation of her damaged robe, and I observed 

 that she accepted the loan of Billy's hunting knife to 

 sever the whang, or thread, at the conclusion of her task. 



I am glad to see that some among those of us who for- 

 gathered at the Forest and Stream's exhibit are giving 

 the less fortunate readers of the paper some of their im- 

 pressions Of the Fair. I had thought to try it myself be- 



a 



fore this, but illness prevented me, and indeed while at 

 the Exposition I was scarcely in condition to see it to 

 good advantage. 



I have been surprised that in no journal save one (and 

 that last spring), have I seen reference made to the very 

 remarkable collection of ancient arms and armor (not to 

 mention many other articles of interest), which was 

 shown in the German village. Had it been practicable I 

 could have passed days in these rooms without being 

 weary of the sight. There are larger collections in 

 Europe, but few if any better selected, and many of the 

 specimens are, I believe, unique. 



I passed along the grim array of knights and men-at- 

 arms, gazed on the numberless weapons of other days, of 

 strange and fantastic ornamentation, wondered how men 

 could do good fighting while burdened with such weight 

 of iron; and as the light grew dim I fell into a dreamy 

 mood, and as I departed I seemed to hear "the straining 

 harsh of each crossbow," the "burr" of the wheel-lock 

 petronels and the sound of the great curved trumpets, of 

 which 



"The Kites knew well the long stern swell 

 That bade the Romans close." 



Kelpie. 



HUNT OF THE CATAWAMPUS CLUB. 



What lover of the woods does not carry in his mind 

 the fixed resolve that at some time in the not very distant 

 future he will take a vactionin the time of the year which 

 best suits him, and, putting aside the worry and cares of 

 business, will live for a time in closer communion with 

 nature? And how many of us see the years pass in ever- 

 quickening procession, carrying us rapidly toward the 

 time when our capacity for enjoying an outing must 

 necessarily be less, and our pet dream never realized? 

 Unmindful of the words of the poet, "Labor with what 

 zeal we will, something still remains undone," the worker 

 puts off his going till he has nothing else to do, and, as a 

 rule, he never goes. The only way is to fix a date for the 

 vacation and make other circumstances conform to it. 



I do not wish it understood that I have fared so very 

 badly for little seasons of relaxation. I had three very 

 enjoyable canoe cruises on the St. John in the summers 

 of '87, '88 and '89 respectively. In July '91 had a four-day 

 cruise in a tight little canoe-yawl, and in November of the 

 same year four of us cruised in canoes over a large por- 

 tion of the middle St, John, and got in quite a seasoning 

 of duck shooting. But most of all I enjoy an autumn 

 outing in the big woods, and years had passed since I had 

 had that pleasure. Therefore, last fall, when I received 

 an invitation to join a few congenial spirits on their an- 

 nual camp-hunt, it did not take me a minute to make up 

 my mind that I would go. 



How the club comes to be written of under the present 

 name will appear later. It is an offshoot from the,Fred- 

 ericton Gun Club and includes all the rural members of 

 that body. 



Moore, genial, broad-shouldered and energetic, was the 

 leading spirit of the party, and he kept it in very good 

 order. Sometimes when he got a little "top-lofty" two 

 of the junior members of the expedition would endeavor 

 to take him down and sit on him for a while, but being 

 of a build that made him an ugly one to ' 'pick up for a 

 scrimmage" it sometimes ended by said juniors getting 

 amalgamated with the dust themselves. The balance of 

 the male members of the party were known respectively 

 as Will, David (the man who pulls the second trigger 

 first) and W. H. Into the outing was introduced what 

 might very properly be called an innovation. Many of 

 us believe that the purity of language and politeness that 

 were markedly characteristic of the crew of H. M. S. 

 Pinafore were, in a great measure, due to the presence 

 of the "sisters, and cousins and aunts" in the party. But 

 it was rather with a view of introducing a new and in- 

 teresting feature in our camp life than as a precautionary 

 measure against loosenf ss in conversation that two of the 

 party took their wives and one bis sister on the hunt. 

 Thus it was that we had three ladies in our party, whom 

 for the sake of brevity we will know individually as 

 Annie, Ella and Bertie, and collectively as "the girls." 



In the matter of objectionable habits our crowd came 

 near being a model one Neither liquor nor tobacco had 

 any place in our outfit. But one of the boys, owing, no 

 doubt, to a temporary aberration of mind, has the habit 

 of periodically expunging from his escutcheon the cherry 

 tree and little hatchet, usually emblazoned there, and 

 substituting therefor a bow of prodigious longitude. At 

 these times his speech varies through all gradations 

 between mild hyperbole and aggravated Munchausenism. 

 In this chronicle I shall deal generously with him. So 

 far as possible I shall conceal his identity. But in the 

 interests of strict accuracy, I regret to say it will some- 

 times be necessary to speak of him as. the Prevaricator. 



We had four dogs. Moore had a pair of red spaniels — 

 excellent grouse dogs— while David had another of the 

 same kind that was one of the best retrievers from water 

 I ever saw. Then there was a nice liver and white cocker 

 puppy that we called Scott Act, because his owner, a 

 genial boniface, had been disciplined for violating [a law 

 so entitled. 



We had a large A shaped wall tent for a general assem- 

 bly room, a smaller octagon wall tent for the ladies, and 

 a little oiled cotton A tent for a "calamity house," under 

 which we could store supplies of all kinds. 



Moore shot a heavy 10-gauge Ithaca hammerless and 

 W. H. a 12-gauge of the same make and kind. David and 

 Will shot English made hammer guns, the one a 10 and 

 the other a 12. 



On the eastern side of Passamaquoddy Bay, which bor- 

 ders on the State of Maine, there empties a small river, 

 perhaps seventy-five miles long, known as the Magagua 

 davic (Mag-a-da-ic), but more frequently spoken of in the 

 vernacular of the country as the "Mac-a-davy." It has 

 its source in a chain of lakes. The first pair of the series, 

 Pequagamus or Lily, and Mud lakes, are discharged by 

 Stony Brook, into Second Lake, which in its turn is 

 emptied into the Big Magaguadavic Lake, from which 

 the river flows in a southerly direction. On the eastern 

 side of Mud Lake and separated from it by a little kame, 

 or horseback, from 20ft. to 100yds. wide, is a lake of per- 

 haps twenty acres extent, called by us Catawampus, but 

 so far as we know unnamed , and not even marked on the 

 plans at the Crown Land Office. At the northeast end of 

 this little lake, in a grove of hemlocks, we proposed to 

 make our camp. 



Queer specimens of lakes are both Mud and Catawampus, 

 The water is rarely more than ?ft, deep, and over tbg 



