206 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Sept. 8, i8&4. 
AN ADIRONDACK HUNTING TRIP. 
"All right, on Tuesday morning we start for Pills- 
bury and the Cedars," This was the exclamation of the 
four inmates of Wa Wa Yanda Camp, when the, question 
of a hunting trip far back into the wilderness was, after 
considerable discussion, decided in the affirmative. 
Our party consisted of Hank H., a good woodsman and 
first-class camp mate; Harry W., somewhat less experi- 
enced in woodcraft, but a good fellow and willing to 
learn; the humble writer and his brother, who answered 
to the old nick-name "Pod." and our guide, Brown, who 
went under the soubriquet "Comical." 
Our prospective destination was Pillsbury and Beaver 
Ponds and the three Cedar lakes. The two former ponds 
are as fine deer ponds as there are in the Adirondacks. 
Early ou the morning of the appointed day the camp 
was astir, our duffle loaded into our skiffs and Wa Wa 
Yanda Camp soon faded in the distance as the skiffs, pro- 
pelled by strong arms, sped lightly over the surface of 
Indian Lake, whose wind- stirred waters were flashing 
and gleaming under the golden shafts of the rising sun. 
It was a beautiful morning, cool and cloudless, but for 
a few white-caps near the horizon, and reclining in the 
stern I enjoyed the ever-changing panorama of the shores 
as the boat passed by swiftly. On, past groves of dark 
green spruce and hemlock, whose tops the sunlight turned 
to burnished gold; past clumps of white-trunked birches 
and poplars, whose silvery leaves sighed and murmured 
softly to us under the gentle breeze: past little islands and 
an emerald marsh, over which a pair of white-headed 
eagles soared with graceful sweep of wings; on, till the 
high bank of the Lake Lewey Carry came into view, and 
we knew that five miles had been left behind. 
The boats were beached, unloaded and carried the 
quarter of a mile to the Lake Lewey outlet, while Harry, 
the Kodak fiend of the Darty, took several photographs. 
The boats launched, we were again rowing up the Lewey 
outlet. Five minutes' row up the pretty little river, 
which had been the scene of the capture of the first deer 
of the season for our party, brought us into Lewey Lake. 
Lewey Lake is an almost round sheet of water about two 
miles across, with rocky bottom and shore. 1 1 contains 
lake trout in considerable numbers, whose weight runs up 
to 151bs. In the spring the brook trout fishing is very 
good, but it is idle to fish for them during the warm 
weather. The Miami River, a noted stream for night 
hunting, runs into this lake. 
The two-mile row to McCormack's, the only house on 
the lake, was soon over. The boats were hauled into the 
brush and overturned, and we turned our faces southeast 
toward Pillsbury Pond, between which and our present 
position twelve long, weary miles intervened. The party 
started, first, my brother carrying a pack basket, a .38- 
cal. Marlin, and a long-bladed hunting paddle; second, 
Brown, with basket, paddle and rod; third, myself, with 
pair of blankets, shell bag and Parker hammerless: next 
Hank, with basket and .44cal. Marhn; and last, Harry, 
with pair of blankets and .38cal. Winchester. 
About a quarter of a mile from Lewey we took lunch at 
Whitfield Spring, so named in honor of one of the party. 
Alter lunch the march was continued, and the next halt 
was made at the lower end of Mason Lake, three miles 
from Lewey. Another three miles was uneventful except 
for the starting of a great horned owl from his retreat in 
a clump of pines, and the halt was made at a brook as yet 
unnamed. The third halt was made at the foot of a 
mountain, at a place called Sleigh Harbor, because the 
rest of the road is practically impassable for wagons, and 
whatever is brought in on thf m is transferred at this point 
to sleds, and is thus carried the remaining 4$ miles to Pills- 
bury. The last stretch was finally traversed, and five 
weary mortals laid down their burdens in Sturges Camp 
as the sun was sinking bf hind the mountain crests. 
Steaming coffee, brown flapjacks and pork fried crisp 1 
formed the evening bill of fare, and they vanished like 
mist before the rising sun. Then the blankets were 
spread and we gladly stretched our tired frames upon the 
hemlock boughs., fragrant but (I know it is rank heresy) 
not over soft. For a while was heard the subdued hum of 
voices talking over plans for the morrow, but soon it died 
away and the only sounds were of the sleepers, while the 
embers glowed sullenly on the hearth and the smoke 
ascended in a thin thread to the open sky above. 
The next morning dawned bright and fair, and prepa- 
rations were at once made for the day. It was deciaed 
that jny brother and 1 should go to Upper Cedar Lake to 
visit a party of three who were camping there, and inci- 
dentally to try Cedar River for trout. The others volun- 
teered to remain in camp and do some very necessary 
housekeeping. Pod and 1 walked the few hundred yards 
to the pond, launched the boat and were ofl. Pillsbury 
Pond is about a mile and a half long but is very narrow, 
being not more than rifle shot broad at any part. It is 
very irregular in shape with a long bay about midway in 
it running southwest. The row through Pillsbury "was 
uneventful, and on arriving at the landing of the carry to 
the Cedars, we drew up the boat and started over the mile 
trail to Middle Cedar Lake. Arriving there we launched 
another skiff and pulled toward the Upper Cedar. On 
the way we saw two ducks, but so far away that we were 
unable to distinguish the species. Further on eight wood 
ducks swung past out of range, and then we passed on 
into Upper Cedar. There we found one of the party ill, 
while tne other two had gone to Little Moose Lake for a 
team, leaving him alone in camp — a senseless and thought- 
lessly inhuman act. Upon questioning them on their re- 
turn, they gave as a reason why two went that they were 
afraid that one might sprain his ankle, so they thought it 
better to go together, although leaving alone a man who 
had been delirious. 
Pod remained with the ill man, while I went to fish 
Cedar River. There was scarcely any water in the stream, 
but where it was fishable there were a few trout. Using 
a fly, I caught eight, all of which were close to the legal 
limit, the largest being not over 8in. long. On the way 
back to the boat I observed many deer tracks along the 
creek. 
The Cedars are clear, rock-bottomed lakes very prettily 
set in among the mountains. They are bordered with 
hemlock, spruce, tamarack, beech, maple, birch and 
poplar — oak, hickory and chestnut being unknown in this 
region. 
Harry, Hank and Brown put in an appearance in the 
afternoon. Hank and Brown soon returned, but Harry 
went with my brother over to Beaver Pond, an excellent 
feeding ground for deer, and consequently famous for 
jacking. 
When they returned, Pod said he would remain with 
the disabled camper, so Harry and I started back. By the 
time we reached the beginning of the carry it was dusk, 
and I had misgivings about being able to find the trail, 
which was entirely unfamiliar to us. However, we found 
it and started, and by the time we had gone half a mile it 
was dark; worse yet, it began to rain, and the prospects of 
passing a very disagreeable night in the woods seemed de- 
cidedly good. Nevertheless we pressed on, continually 
getting off the trail, but ever finding it again. It became 
so dark that we could not see our boats, and how we 
finally reached Pillsbury is a source of wonder to us yet. 
Half an hour later we were in camp, where we found 
John Sturges and three others. After a good supper we 
were ourselves again, but we registered a solemn vow 
never to start to go over an unknown trail again at night- 
fall. 
We did not hunt that night, but two of Sturges's party 
went out. They came across three and amid a general 
fusilade, all escaped unscathed except for their nerves. 
We had not yet gone to sleep at camp, and could hear the 
deep boom, boom, of the shotgun, followed by the sharp 
crack, crack, of the Winchester. 
The, other two of Sturges's party went out to hunt the 
latter'part of the night, while the rest of us sought our 
blankets. 
When I awoke it was raining hard, and the view with- 
out was gray and cheerless. The two who had last gone 
out had killed a three-point buck and had brought it up 
from the landing. 
One afternoon three of us took our rifles and at 4:30 
started to take positions for a sunset shot. Hank took 
his station at a part of the pond called the narrows. Pod 
chose one of the islands at the mouth of the bay. Pulling 
up to the head of the bay, where a small brook came in, 
I ran the boat ashore. After I had sat there a while some 
evil genius prompted me to move further down the bay; 
here I sat and smoked silently while the sun sank lower 
and the harsh rattle of the kingfisher and the metallic 
quauk of the great blue heron were the only sounds that 
broke the stillness. Suddenly, after about an hour's wait- 
ing, two red objects caught my eye, moving along the 
edge of the little marsh at the head of the bay, some 
180yds. away. A quick glance told me they were deer, 
but at the distance, together with the twilight, I was 
unable to distinguish their heads. The rifle I had was a 
.38cal.,Winchester belonging to Harry and I quickly raised 
it; as the sights come up on one they promptly blurred, so 
I lowered it, knowing that at the distance there was no 
danger of the game taking alarm. A second trial met 
with no better success, but at the fourth I fired. When 
the smoke cleared the one I had fired at was not in 
sight and I thought it was down. The other halted at 
the edge of the woods, and hastily covering it I fired. It 
did not move. Again the Winchester spoke sharply; still 
again, till I thought I was firing at a dead spruce top, but 
at the fourth shot up went the white flag and as it van- 
ished into the woods I gave it a parting salute. Rowing 
up I found that the first had also escaped unhurt, so I 
wended my way back to camp with my opinion of myself 
as a marksman considerably reduced. Later it soothed 
my feelings to learn that a .38-40 cartridge is not accurate 
for over 120yds. point blink, so I suppose I was perforat- 
ing the peat moss 40ft. short of them. 
That night my brother went out with Brown and re- 
turned at about 3 A. M. They had come upon a deer 
swimming the pond and Pod had shot. The deer was 
evidently hit, for it turned at the shot and swam straight 
past the boat. Pod fired again as it came on, extinguish- 
ing the jack by the concussion. Now was Brown's op- 
portunity for showing his shooting prowess, and he was 
equal to it. Shot after shot rang out as he worked the 
lever, firing at random in the darkness, till all sounds of 
splashing had ceased. Then they returned, but on going 
back in the morning found it lying dead on the marsh. It 
was a doe, and a chance shot had struck it just back of 
the foreleg. Pod's first shot had sent a buckshot through 
the ears, not an inch above the head, which was the cause 
of the deer's turning. 
On the morrow Hank and Brown went to Beaver Pond, 
while the rest remained at camp. Harry and I fished for 
chub in the afternoon with fair success. Later I took my 
stand where 1 had first drawn up the boat on the previous 
day, but none came in. 
Harry held the gun and Pod the paddle that night, and 
made the circuit of the pond without getting a shot, and 
hearing only one buck in the woods. 
Brown and Hank put in an appearance early in the 
afternoon of the next day, bringing the head of a splendid 
five-point buck that Hank had secured by an evening shot 
at Beaver. Story and song made the evening pass swiftly, 
and 11 P. M. Harry and the writer started out; Harry 
holding the gun and I the paddle. The moon was nearly 
full and the pond was flooded with its silvery light. There 
was too much light for hunting, so we soon gave it up, 
after putting out one and hearing two others. 
The succeeding days saw our bill of fare grow less and 
less. Flour began to fail us, sugar was gone, likewise 
condensed milk, and we were down to flapjacks without 
sugar and coffee with neither sugar nor milk. Most of us 
being accustomed to such things, we did not mind it 
much. 
Finally Pod and Brown decided to hunt Mud Creek,about 
two and a half miles distant, and started at noon. That 
evening, after another fruitless wait for an evening shot, 
Harry and I started for another hunt, our positions being 
the same as in the last. Fixing the jackstaff in the bow, 
we pushed off and the skiff slipped noiselessly along the 
shore, the rocks and stumps, half hidden by the mist, 
showing white and ghostly in the light. 
All was quiet in camp. Hank lay asleep on the couch. 
As he slept he dreamed. He dreamt of long past war 
times; how his mother had taken active part at the siege 
of Memphis with the Confederates, and fancied he could 
hear the roar and rattle of musketry. Suddenly he 
awakes. Surely a quarter of a century has passed since 
then. Yet what is that? Crack — crack — crack — crack! 
above the rushing of the wind shots are ringing out on the 
cold night air, and the hills are echoing and reechoing 
with sound. Hurling his blanket aside, he springs up. 
A dry splinter falling upon the embers flares up brightly, 
lighting up the cabin. Hank starts; then smiles and 
returns tu his blanket, muttering, "I forgot," and all is 
again silent but for the mournful hooting of an owl. 
Harry and 1 were nearing the end of the hunt. A rain- 
storm had arisen and 1 had ceased to look ahead in my 
endeavors to keep tne boat's head in the wind. A splash 
made me look up just in time to see the spiteful flash of 
Harry's rifle. Again and again it spoke. Catching up 
my rifle I also opened fire. Thick and fast came the shots 
now at the sound, and occasional glimpses of foam as the 
deer went past the boat, the smoke and reports whirling 
away on the wings of the wind. The deer, evidently 
struck by some of the leaden hail, ran 40ft. behind us, 
turned and came back, entering the brush just forward of 
the bow. The number of shots fired*was twenty-one, 
Harry firing fifteen and the writer six. On the morrow it 
rained in torrents, and when, on the morning of the next, 
we went to search, all blood or tracks would have been 
washed away. 
On the .day after this hunt Pod and Brown returned 
from Mud Creek, having seen no deer. They reported 
seeing some large trout. Brown hooked a splendid fel- 
low, but as Brown has no use for playing a fish, he lost 
him, my light tackle, which he was using, being unequal 
to the strain of "sneaking" it. 
The next day we broke camp and turned our faces 
homeward, The tramp to Lake Lewey with lightened 
loads and a down grade, enlivened by song and talk, was 
soon over. A halt at McCormack's, where the party was 
photographed, and we launched the skiffs and once- more 
were gliding over the calm waters of the lake. We passed 
over the carry and rowed down Indian Lake in the soft 
light of the waning day as the sun sank slowly behind 
Snowy Mountain, until at last we reached camp as the 
hazy twilight was clothing the hills with purple and the 
white mist was rising from the water in curling billows. 
That night as we lay in the tent watching the smoke 
wreaths curling upward in graceful curves, we talked the 
hunt over in low tones. We had shed little blood, but the 
experience was one ever to be remembered with pleasure 
by us. Soon the camp sank into slumber, while the weird 
cry of the loon echoed over the lake and the fire flared 
and flickered fitfully on the hearth. Etjrus. 
Ohio Game. 
Aug. 29. — I have just returned from a short visit to 
Columbiana county, Ohio, where I had the pleasure of 
renewing acquaintance with the elusive gray squirrel. 
Notwithstanding the extremely dry weather and scarcity 
of nuts, squirrels are fairly plentiful, though the dryness 
of fallen leaves, twigs, etc. , prevent large scores. Among 
those which came into my killing distance were two, 
showing a freakish tendency, in that each had white- 
tipped tail; in one case the tail was white for five inches 
from its end, the other not so much. In other respects 
the squirrels were ordinary grays in good condition. I 
saw no quail or pheasants, nor any indication of their 
presence, although residents inform me there are a few 
of both in the vicinity. 
Keep hammering at our "stop the sale of game" plank; 
it is the material of which our game protection platform 
must be built, Twelve Point. 
Adirondack Deer Hounding. 
Lake Placid, Essex Co., N. Y., Aug. 28.— Editor For- 
est and Stream: I desire to call your attention to the fact 
that the law against hounding of deer before Sept. 10 is 
daily violated with impunity in the Adirondacks. During 
a recent trip from Blue Mountain Lake to the Saranacs I 
had occular and aural demonstration of the above fact 
and wondered why the law was not enforced by the pro- 
per authorities. Observer. 
["Observer" incloses his card but requests that his name 
be considered confidential. It would be a better plan for 
him and for all other observers of such lawlessness to re- 
port it directly to Ma j. J. Warren Pond, Chief Game and 
Fish Protector, Albany, and to "make no bones" about 
having their names known.] 
Opening of the Rail Season. 
The opening of the rail season, so far as reported, seems 
to promise better things than for several years past. On 
the meadows of the Housatonic near Stratford, Conn., 
Mr. Henry Bishop killed fifty birds on Aug. 31, and a day 
or two later a single boat going up there and shoving 
over the ground on a tour of inspection put up over forty 
birds. 
On the Hackensack Meadows in New Jersey some birds 
have been seen, and the reports for the first week of the 
season show birds in fair abundance. Mr. Geo. Van Bus- 
kirk brought in 36 of them on his first tide, and holds the 
record for a second year. Other figures were: Geo. Seiss 
19, Dr. Curry 18, John J. Anderson 18, Mr. Palmer of 
Passaic 18, Wm. Ricardo 16, Richard Terhune 14, Harry 
Bogert of Paterson 14, Mr. Carman of Passaic 4. 
New Jersey Squirrel Law. 
The Oame Laws in Brief gives this as the law on squir- 
rels in New Jersey: 
Squirrels.— Seh. 2. It shall not be lawful to kill any black or fox 
squirrel, except only between the 31st day of October and tbe l(Sth day 
of December. 
It response to several inquiries it may be stated that 
the Brief's statement is correct. Gray squirrels are hot 
mentioned in the law, although the black is a sport of the 
gray. "If the Brief says so you may depend on it." 
West "Virginia Game. 
Sweet Springs, W. Va., Aug. 29.— The prospect for 
deer, turkey and pheasant here this fall is very encour- 
aging. On account of the change made in the Virginia 
deer law we have had no August deer hunts; hitherto we 
have hunted in Virginia after Aug. 15, since we are very 
near the Virginia line. C. R. C. 
Lake Champlain Ducks. 
A letter from Rushmore reports a good crop of wild 
rice on the marsh and quite a sprinkling of ducks. 
H. C. K. 
A Club for Young People. 
Elsewhere in this week's issue will be found the advertisement of 
a shooting, fishing and boating club, situated on a lake that has many 
charms for lovers of nature, as well as sportsmen. The club offers 
unusual advantages to those desiring to spend their holidays with 
their families, and at the same time enjoy small game shooting and 
fishing.— Adv. 
Land near Birmingham, Ala., is advertised in exchange for a stock 
of sporting goods or a yacht.— Adv. 
