March 31, 1894. J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



267 



cheeks; the water, cool and pure enough for a bath for 

 Diana, rippled from the bow in rolls of silver, while as if 

 to give completeness to the scene, an unseen warbler in a 

 grove near by was breaking his heart as if he were 

 ' The sweet and plaintive Sappho of the dell." 



With these delightful auxiliaries it was a lovely row 

 along the rugged shore. The steady dip of the flashing 

 blades kept time to the carol of blithesome birds and the 

 tinkling melody of murmuring waves against the gray 

 and moss-grown rocks. Soon the fluttering folds of our 

 tent were in view, and then the half-breeds, as if inspired 

 with the sight, increased the speed of the craft till the 

 foam in a rainfall of snowy sea roses dropped from her 

 cutwater in graceful and spreading curvatures. In a 

 few minutes we were at the desired haven, fully satisfied 

 with the day's outing, though the vermilion-dyed victims 

 were few, and small at that. 



After we had partaken of supper, we had a conference 

 and concluded to change our base on the morrow and sail 

 for Bachewauaung Bay, where we hoped to find the 

 freckled beauties more plentiful and more eager to court 

 the acquaintance of the flies artificial. Word, therefore, 

 went out to the half-breeds for the breaking of camp at 

 an early hour in the morning, and then after a luxuriant 

 smoke and the usual pow-wow, which always followed a 

 day's sport, we sought our comfortable beds and soon fell 

 asleep to the hum of the industrious mosquitoes, who 

 were in countless numbers around our netting, striving to 

 find an aperture for a blood-sucking banquet. We awoke 

 in the morning feeling exceedingly refreshed and rein- 

 vigorated, as our slumbers had been unusually sweet and 

 sound. 



The lake which panted at our feet was a picture of 

 serene delight, every jutting crag, dome and pinnacle 

 aglow with sparkling radiance; the southwest wind, 

 balmy as if it had come from fields of flowers, rippled the 

 water into twinkling crystals, while the sky developed a 

 marvel of delicate tints "shot with silver and amber from 

 the early sun." 



Eager to take the morning breeze, the half-breeds went 

 to work with a will, one preparina: breakfast and the 

 other dismantling the camp and arranging the packages 

 of provisions, etc., for the boat. The meal, a hurried one, 

 at which the bronze-hacker, a victim of the previous day, 

 formed part of the culinary, was soon partaken of, aud 

 then all hands aided in loading the floating craft. As the 

 morning indicated a hot day, with the probability of its 

 soon being a breezeless one, the boys were unusually 

 eager to be afloat, and in about forty winks we were off 

 with a favorable though uncertain " wind. It was but a 

 short time before we had zephyr lullabys that scarcely 

 straightened the sails, and which necessitated a prompt 

 resort to the ashen blades long before we reached our 

 destination, lovely Bachewauaung Bay. The sun sent his 

 silver lances with such a prostrating effect that the shore 

 and shade were just then objective points of great interest. 

 The half-breeds toiled manfully at the row locks, with the 

 beads of perspiration dropping from their rigid faces at 

 every dip of theoars. Anon, some chanson of a lively nature 

 fell from their lips, and then our troubadour, the musical 

 Ned, gave an aria so deliciously replete with melody that 

 the tawny warblers feeling their inferiority in the musical 

 rhythm so palpably, did not again venture upon vocalism 

 when our minstrel of the lute-like voice was near by. 

 Ned's repertoire of the sentimental and comic was liter- 

 ally, so to speak, inexhaustible, and when there was toil 

 to lighten he was always to the front through the inspir- 

 ation of the divine art. 



About meridian we reached our destination and camped 

 in a most charming spot commanding a full view of the 

 magnificent bay. The mirror-like condition of the lake, 

 as well as the intense heat, prevented trouting, so we 

 passed the afternoon in cards, reading, converse and the 

 like. 



About meal time a grave and pale-faced girl from the 

 lighthouse, having dark tresses, black eyes, pinched lips 

 and mournful voice, indicative of a cheerless and solitary 

 life, sold us two quarts of wild and luscious strawberries, 

 and as I stood in need of a camp chair, which I had inad- 

 vertently omitted from our outfit, also purchased from her 

 a small rocker, and was therefore made supremely happy, 

 for during the trip I realized a world of solid comfort out 

 of it. A camp chair in an outing is a jewel above price, 

 but when you have a luxuriant rocker to sink into after a 

 day's hard toil you feel thrice blessed. 



The supper hour had come and gone, and the afternoon 

 sun, which had been notably hot and had laid her bars of 

 quivering gold with a lavish hand on sea and land, was 

 now fast relaxing the fierceness of her burning rays, the 

 shade being no longer sought for comfort. Bachewau- 

 aung, flushed in its tempered glow, was a picture of incom- 

 parable loveliness, and though I have seen it time and 

 again, written frequently of its charms and often angled 

 around its wave-worn shores, I can still find new surprises 

 that charm, new suggestions that fill with kindling emo- 

 tions. Bathe it in sunshine, assail it in storm, give it 

 autumnal haze or vernal bloom, sweep it with arctic 

 blasts or tropic whisperings, it is always an object to 

 excite the adoration of the true lover of nature. It is, 

 and always will be, the paradise of Lake Superior's wild, 

 rugged and imposing scenery. 



"Nature here 

 Wantnued as in her prime, and played at will 

 Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweets, 

 Wild above rule or art; enormous bliss." 



Alex. Stabbuck. 

 [to be continued.] 



Spring in the Northwest. 



Silvebbale, Wash. , March 12.— Spring has come with 

 us; ducks are beginning to go north, trees are leafing, 

 grouse have commenced to hoot and skunk cabbage is 

 "high enough for bear feed," so I guess the rainy season 

 is about over. 



About fifteen deer have been killed in the. vicinity this 

 winter, but the woods are fulL of them yet. My quail are 

 doing nicely and are in good condition. I have noticed 

 tracks of the possums several times, so they are all right 

 too, I guess. 



I got caught in a squall on the bay not long since and 

 was blown high and dry on the beach, canoe and all, 

 when the sea went down, but I reckon I'll paddle over 

 to the post-office every Wednesday after Forest and 

 Stream just the same, blow or no blow; got to do it or 

 break a king-bolt. El Comancho. 



ISIAH'S FIRST DEER. 



"Fine haid, yes, seh, 'tis so; got antlers on it like a 

 bresh heap. 



"Yes, seh, dey is a mighty curiousness look 'bout de 

 eyes, but, you see, de man what done stuffed de haid on'y 

 had one pa'r ob eyes lef in his shop, an' dey war'n't 

 mates; one on 'em is yaller, 'n' tunner one's brown. Dat's 

 de haid ob my fust deer, seh, an' I'll never fergit de day 

 when I shot him. 



'"Twas 'bout de fifties — I disremember de yeah ezactly, 

 'n' we all was down in Maimphus, Tenersee, de ol' Marster, 

 Marse Will 'n' me. 



"De ol' Marster he wen' down de ribber to Jackson, 'n' 

 leave Marse Will 'n' me to wait fo' him in Maimphus. 



"De secon' day after de ol' Marster lef, Marse Will he 

 say, 'Isiah, how you like to go up de kentry a bit an' do 

 some deer shootin'?' 



"You see, Marse Will he never did no shootin' at big 

 game yit, 'n' I ain' nuther, so we was bofe kin'er anxious 

 like to 'stinguish oursel's befoh de ol' Marster come back, 

 so I 'low I like to go mighty well, so de nex' day we took 

 de boat up de Mississip' to a place called Darnell up in 

 Lake county, den 'cross de kentry in a buckboa'd to.Reel- 

 f oot Lake. 



"We had two fine houn's along, fo' in dem days people 

 didn' think nothin' ob houn'in' deer. We got to de lake 

 'long to'rds evenin' an' made camp on de upper en'. Den 

 I tu'n to an' cook de supper, 'n' we sot up oveh de fiah fo' 

 an hour or mo' befoh we tu'ned in. 



"'Twas one ob dem .still kin' o' nights, de skies was full 

 o'big white stars an' dey shine in de lake twell hit look like 

 dey was another sky layin' on de yearth. 



"Jus' as was tu'nin' in Marster Will he say, 'Look yeah, 

 Isiah, de fus' deer we fin' to-morrer 'longs to me 'n' I don' 

 wan' you to eben shoot at it un'er any circumstances 

 whatsomever— if you do, I'm gwine fo' to cut de toughest 

 switch I kin fin' 'n' I'll w'ar it out on yo' back,' 'n' I say, 

 'All right, Marse Will, I ain' gwine shoot twell you all 

 tell me.' Wall, in de mo'nin' we fin' a good runway, an 

 Marse Will he sot down on a log behih' a bush, an' I 

 loosen de houn's. 'Twarn't long befoh de houn's 'gin to 

 whimper, den ol' Yaller he soun' one long note 'n' off dey 

 bofe went. I got back to de camp 'n' I was feelin' mighty 

 miserable to think I couldn't git no chance at dat deer. 

 Anyhow I put a cap on my rifle, one ob dem ol' fashion' 

 Kaintucky rifles, an' layin' it down clus at hand, I start 

 in to clear up de breakfas' things. 



' 'De houn's cry was a-growin' fainter and fainter, twell 

 it soun' like de sof music dem little black keys make 

 down on de lower end ob de big pianner. Den bime-bye 

 dey 'gin to come a little clusser, an' de clusser dey git, de 

 mo' I 'gin to feel dat I was in fo' a good switchin'. Den 

 I 'gin to sing so as I couldn't hear em, but dey got nearer 

 'n' nearer, twell jus' 'bout a quarter of a mile down de 

 lake, a big buck come jumpin' out ob de un'erbrush an' 

 wen' splashin' into de water. I drapped de skillet I was a 

 scrapin', grab de gun an' start a-runnin' fo' de pint ob 

 lan' de buck was a-haidin' fo'. 



"I tried to keep out ob sight behin' de bushes, but de 

 deer cotch sight ob me, an' my lan's how he did make de 

 water curl aroun' his neck! 



"Twict I done trip myself up an' wen' sprawlin' out on 

 my face; de thorns 'n' briers scratch my face an' han's 

 twell dey was a-bleedin' in a dozen places; my shirt 'n' 

 coat look like dey was nothin' but rags, an' every little 

 while I had to wade in water up to my neck, hoPin' my 

 gun up over my haid. Jus' as I got within 'bout a hun'red 

 yards ob de pint, de deer struck bottom, an' as he 'gin to 

 wade up de slopin' beach, I drappen on one knee, an' was 

 jus' a-takin' aim when I hear Marse Will a-shoutin': 



" 'Hoi' on dere, you brack nigger, don' you shoot dat deer 

 or I'll lick de hide clean off en you.' 



" 'Den jus' you cut yo' switch, Marse Will,' I yells; an' 

 jus' as de two sights come in line wid de deer's shoulder I 

 pulled de trigger, he gave one or two jumps to'rd de woods, 

 den stop short 'n' drap all in a heap. 



"Well, seh, all day long I was a-thinkin' 'bout dat 

 switch, an' if it haden' a been fo' a buck dat come Marster 

 Will's way to'rd sundown dey ain' de slightes' doubt but 

 I'd a caught an ungordly lickin'. 



"When Marse Will come to camp dat evenin' I done cut 

 a toler'ble good switch an' ban' it to him; but he on'y 

 laugh 'n' say, 'You brack debbil, you know well you 

 'serves it, but it was a mighty good shot, 'n' I'll leff you off 

 dis time, fo' to tell de trufe, Isiah, when dat deer passed 

 within twainty yards oh me I was a-shakin' so hard dat I 

 jus' stood an' boller'd at him, an' never 'membered dat I 

 had a gun twill he was gone.' " The General. 



DANVIS FOLKS.-XXVI. 



In the Woods. 



"They say the Widder Needham wants tu let her place 

 on sheers," said Sam to his wife the next morning, when 

 they, the baby and the hound were the only occupants of 

 the kitchen. "An' I thought o' tryin' fer that, but I do' 

 know, I can't git a holt o' nothin'. I b'lieve I shall hafter 

 go off int' the woods by myself a spell. The woods is allers 

 my cure-all," and he cast a casual glance up at his gun 

 that was gathering the dust of disuse. "Then agin, I 

 kinder want tu look over aour mountain lot. That haint 

 ben 'taiched, an' it seem's 'ough it might be turned tu 

 some 'caount. The's a slew o' timber on 't, an' I c'ld build 

 us a turrible neat lawg haouse aouten them spreuce." 



"I allers thought a lawg haouse was jes' as cute as c'ld 

 be an' allers wanted tu live in one," Huldah said with en- 

 thusiasm." 



"Mebby you'll git the chance. An' if I c'ld hit the 

 Forge folks on a coalin' job, I might make well on 't. If 

 't was cleared up, I s'pose we might git a livin' off on 't. 

 It's consid'able uphill an' I don't s'pose the s'ile o' land is 

 fust chop, but I guess it 'ould raise white beans an' buck- 

 wheat, an' both on 'em is fillin'." 



"Good land, Sam, don't fer lan's sake say 'buckwheat' 

 afore mother. She'd hev a conniption fit an' hev aour 

 ears all cracked off 'm aour heads afore the buckwheat 

 was in blow." 



"I don't set no gre't store by it myself," Sam conceded, 

 "but it's better 'n a snow bank, an' high duck folnsis git- 

 tin' tu think buckwheat pancakes is some punkins. But 

 the' can't no Green Maountain boy go agin beans. They 

 was victuals an' chink tu the ol' settlers, an' ammernition 

 tew, fer I've heard Gran'ther Hill tell, haow 'at they shot 

 Yorkers with 'em. I guess I'll go up an' look the lot over 

 an' see ! An' I s'pose I might as well take my gun along, 

 I an' Drive 'ould feel bad if I left him." 



"No, you mustn't hurt Drive's feelin's," said Huldah, 

 laughing as she roused the hound from the heavy sleep 

 that linked one hunting bout with another. 



"I allers feel better in the woods an' c'n think better in 

 'em an' mebby c'n git my idees straigtened aout." 



Hiildah had great faith in Sam's sovereign balm for all 

 his ills of body and mind, having seen it work many cures 

 of both; and offered no objection to a trial of it now. As 

 he stepped forward to take down his gun his father came 

 in with some husks in a basket to sort for braiding. With 

 suprise, but no reproach, he said: 



"Why. Sammy, seem's 'ough you was takin' a late start 

 a-huntin' fer you." 



"Wal, father, I'm goin' more tu see abaout the wood 

 lot. Seem's 'ough we c'ld get somethin' aout o' that," 

 Sam explained and went out, Drive careering about him 

 in clumsy expression of joy at the unexpected outing. 

 Sam's heart felt a fresh pang as he passed the shop win- 

 dow and thought of the anxiety his credulity had brought 

 upon his two old friends. 



As Huldah fondly watched her husband out of sight she 

 sighed to see how wearily he walked with downcast eyes 

 as one whose thoughts were far from sport or pastime. 

 Yet his dulled senses were alert enough to feel keenly how 

 his mood was mocked by the Indian summer day that 

 seemed to have caught all the year's serenity in its misty 

 web of gold and purple. 



The breeze touched him softly as the breath of June, nor 

 scarcely stirred the drifted windrows of fallen leaves, nor 

 tossed a-lee the gray ashes of the golden rod's burned-out 

 flame, nor bore from the veiled mountain the low song of 

 its evergreens. The tranquil babble of the unswollen 

 brooks rose and fell with the light wafts, the bluebird's 

 carol floated down through the haze that was spun from 

 sky to earth, the meadow-larks sang their long-drawn 

 summer songs and the lazy caw of lingering crows came 

 from their latest woodland camp among the evergreens, 

 and a partridge's April drum-call throbbed through the 

 filmy copses. It was as if nature were solacing herself in 

 this autumnal truce for all turbulence of her forces, past 

 or henceforth possible. 



With scarcely a thought of his course, Sam entered the 

 woods and heard as in a dream the old hound's rustling 

 footsteps as he ranged about him. Nor did he scarcely 

 notice more, the impatient whine that told of a puzzling 

 scent, half-exhaled since reynard fared homeward from 

 his early mousing, nor yet the first clear note that an- 

 nounced a more exhilarating savor with assured direction. 

 But when the melody became exultant and continuous 

 with competing echoes he awoke to a realization that the 

 fox was afoot, and he instinctively made for a favorite 

 runway. 



It was at the crest of a ledge that wrinkled the moun- 

 tain side lengthwise, where the starved trees, beggarly 

 with patches of lichen and rags of moss stood far apart 

 among the rocks and gave eye and gun a range of several 

 rods. Sam stood listening till the hound's voice with its 

 attendant clamor of screaming jays had faded out of hear- 

 iug, leaving the woods about him as silent as if he was 

 their only tenant. 



He sat down on a fallen trunk and his thoughts went 

 wearily back to a confused consideration of plans for the 

 future that came and went like a procession of fog 

 wreaths and wotild take no more definite form. 



The bugle notes rose faintly again in the distance, and 

 rolled nearer and nearer, but if heard were not heeded, 

 till a sudden burst close at hand recalled with a start his 

 wandering thoughts and he got quickly to his feet. There 

 was a rustling of the dry leaves in the hollow at his left, 

 and he caught fleeting glimpses of the fox running at top 

 speed in evident alarm at a sight or sc|nt of the hunter. 

 With one motion the cocked gun was at Sam's shoulder, 

 sighted a foot ahead the flying target and the trigger 

 pulled, and in that moment, his mind all on the game 

 now, he was aware with a pang of vexation that a tree 

 trunk had intervened. He heaved a sigh of disappoint- 

 ment. 



"By the gre't horn spoon! Jewed by a skeezucks and 

 fooled by a fox! I wonder what's a-comin' next?" 



Rowland E. Robinson. 



Are Mongolian Pheasants Desirable? 



Lewiston, Me., March 19. — Editor Forest and Stream: 

 I notice from time to time in your columns letters from 

 different sections of the country in regard to the introduc- 

 tion and propagation of the ring-neck or Mongolian 

 pheasant. The introduction of foreign game birds is a 

 question of great interest to every sportsman and one that 

 should be carefully considered. We are well aware of the 

 disastrous results which followed the introduction of the 

 house sparrow, better known as the English sparrow. 

 These "rats of the air" were imported to check the rav- 

 ages of insects from the foliage of trees. Instead of this, 

 they themselves have proved more destructive than the 

 pests they were intended to destroy. 



The Mongolian pheasant is a magnificent game bird, 

 handsome, hardy and prolific, and is termed the king of 

 the forest; and for this reason alone we should give much 

 careful thought and study before introducing them here. 



Evidence is given where in California and Oregon these 

 birds destroy whole broods of young of the dusky or sooty 

 grouse. Can we afford to take the chances with any birds 

 that are antagonistic to our ruffed grouse, one of the best 

 and noblest game birds of the world? There is a great 

 question in my mind whether the increase of pheasants 

 would compensate us for the decrease of grouse. 



There are many well-behaved species of game birds that 

 would be a welcome additition to our forests; but I think 

 we should carefully consider before taking a too hasty step 

 in the introduction of the Mongolian pheasant. 



E. G. Gay. 



Albino Blackbird. 



Portland, Conn., March 19.— Your correspondent, F. 

 B. Magill, inquires about albino red-winged blackbirds. I 

 have in my collection a specimen that was shot here 

 i Sept. 10, 1877. It is white above, and a light straw or 

 cream color below, from throat to vent. The red on the 

 bend of the wings shows distinctly, Eyes pink. 



' ' " Jno. H, Sage,, 



