Feb. 23, 1895. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
143 
and lover— as she supposed — both dead. For more than a 
year she was a raving maniac, when she became sane 
again, and Stephen married her. I assisted him in build- 
ing a small house, and he went to housekeeping in 1818. 
Coming Homo. 
Silas and Samuel, having arrived in Granville this fall, 
concluded to remain with us. They lost their horse on 
the Alleghany Mountains by overfeeding. Silas went in to 
the business of making wagons, and Samuel went to 
work with John at the joiners' trade. As the meeting 
house was not finished, we had work enough for him. 
Having a fine lot of land in the village, I proposed to Ben- 
jamin, who was in partnership with me, that we should 
build on it the next summer. Accordingly, we began a 
two-story house, 30x46 feet. We got up' the walls the 
first summer, when we received a letter from father say- 
ing he was coming on to Ohio, and as mother refused to 
come, he should leave her and Paul on the farm to do the 
best they could. 
After heaidng this letter read, it was decided that some 
one oughtto go back. All were married but Ben jamin 
and George, and we did not want to go, but they agreed 
at last, if I would go, to bear my expenses. I was to sell 
out the farm and bring mother on, as they all thought 
she would come if I went after her, so I consented to go* 
I found a man who was going to Massachusetts with two 
horses; he allowed me the chance to ride one by paying 
the expense of the horse. I left Granville the 6th of 
Jan., 1819. The winter was an open one, no snow on the 
ground, and I had good weather ill the way, with the 
exception of one night, in Heading, Penn. 
It was Sunday night; I stopped at a tavern kept by one 
Hoffman. I asked the barkeeper, avIio appeared at the 
door when I rung the bell, if I could be kept ; he said I 
could, and I followed him to the stable to give orders 
about my horse, so we both went in together. 
When he opened the bar-room door, such a sight met 
my eyes as I never saw before. About a dozen lying on 
the settees and benches, asleep, or drunk — the latter, 
probably — the floor covered with mud and water, and an 
inch deep, well mixed in with cigars, playing cards and 
broken goblets, or other hollow ware, and a well filled 
table in an adjoining dining room. They were very boist- 
erous at times, speaking in a language, of which I could 
not understand one syllable, only when they swore; this 
was always in broken English, accompanied with a heavy 
smite of the fist, to make it more emphatic. I had called 
for supper on my fii st arrival, and the time seemed longer 
than I was accustomed to wait, so I called to the bar- 
keeper, to know if my supper was ready. I was directed 
to the dining room, and there saw one of the ugliest look- 
ing wenches I had ever met, who beckoned for me 
to sit up. There was neither tea nor coffee on the table. 
I asked if they had any tea or coffee; she stood a mo- 
ment, then went after the man, who said they had so 
many come in they were out of both; "then give me 
some water," said I. and I soon finished my supper of 
bacon and bre id. When I inquired for a bed, the man 
showed me upstairs to a front chamber. Wherever I had 
stopped on my journey I had a lock and key to my door, 
and when I asked him for the key he said it was lost. So 
I shut the door and pressed my knife in over the latch as 
hard as possible. The room had no furniture but a bed 
and a chair. I took out my watch and laid it on the win- 
dow stool close to the bead of my bed, placed my pocket- 
book under the pillow, undressed as usual, lay* down to 
sleep and was soon lost to all things around me. 
How long I slept 1 cannot tell, but suddenly I was 
awakened by the sound of something falling to the floor, 
I raised myself up and looked at the door, and by the 
light of the moon shining in at the window, could see 
my knife on the floor. Then I understood what the noise 
meant. As I could hear the noise going on below, I 
began to feel rather fearful, knowing that someone had 
been trying my door, and my knife was out of the door. 
I lay still as a mouse, perhaps twenty-five minutes, when 
I heard the door latch begin to rattle, and I began to 
breathe like a person asleep, but kept my eye fixed on the 
door. Soon it began to open, and I could see the top of a 
man's head coming in; at last his face appeared in full 
view; I threw up my arms, and turned suddenly over, 
when he drew back, making no noise as he shut the door. 
I continued to breathe heavily, and it was not long before 
the door began to open, and the head appeared, then 
the shoulders and arms of a man. 1 could endure it no 
longer, and springing up in bed, I demanded his business. 
He drew back and quickly shut the door. I then jumped 
out of bed and dressed myself; it was but three o'clock, so 
I sat on the bed till four, when I took my portmanteau, 
and down stairs I went. All was quiet, and as I could not 
get my horse, I rung the bell two or three times before 
the man appeared, who asked, "What in h — 1 do you 
mean by getting up so early?" "I have very important 
business to attend to," I replied, "and must have my 
horse immediately." My bill was $1.25. I told him I had 
paid but 75 cents formerly; he "did not care, that was 
his price." So I paid the bill, told him he was keeping 
an excellent house, and I would make it known to all 
travellers I might meet, which I did at the next hotel 
where I took breakfast. They told me I was lucky to get 
off as I did, for it was the worst house in the State; many 
had been robbed there. A year before , a peddler, known 
to have considerable money with him, had stopped there 
one night, and was never seen or heard of afterwards, 
though his horse and wagon were found standing by the 
roadside, not far from the house, the next day. They 
were advertised, but no claimant appeared, and it was 
the general opinion that the man was murdered by some 
of the people who frequented the house. 
II went from Reading direct to Elizabethtown, N. J., 
from there on to Newark, where I saw the first steamboat 
ever built in America — and I might say in the world — the 
Fulton. I crossed over to the city of New York, going out 
of the State by the way of New Rochelle, to Hartford, 
Conn.; from Hartford I went to Wrentham, Mass., where 
I left my horse as I had agreed, and took the stage to Bos- 
ton, then to Newburyport, going on to Berwick, Maine, 
then to Portland, where I found a vessel all ready to sail 
for Belfast, the first fair wind. 
Having waited two days, and no fair wind, I deter- 
mined to go on foot to Hallowell, on the Kennebeo River. 
Iti was now the 4th of February, 1819, with no snow on 
the7 ground,*, and very pleasant. I left Portland at six 
o'clock in Me_rnorniTjg and arrived in Hallowell a little- 
before ten o'clock in the evening, a journey of sixty-five 
miles, over four miles an hour. I was lame enough the 
next morning; however, I got ahead ten miles that day to 
a place called the Branch Mills, nowinthe town of China. 
Here I hired a horse, and arrived home at noon Sunday, 
the 7th day of February, having been on the road thirty- 
two days, and, what was most remarkable at this time of 
year, not a drop of rain or spit of snow fell on me in 
those days, nor did I see any snow on all the route, ex- 
cept some small patches on the top of the Alleghany 
Mountains, nor was there any in Freedom all the months 
of February and January, till the 27th day of February; 
it then clouded up, the wind northeast, and continued to 
snow four days and nights till the fences disappeared. It 
then rained a little, cleared off cold and freezing, so that 
it bore oxen anywhere over the fields, by which means 
people were enabled to go with their sleds into the wood- 
lots and get their summer wood. 
The snow soon began to melt away before the bright 
sun of March, though many had prophesied a great 
freshet; but it all went off by sunshine, without doing 
any damage on the river as was expected, and a warm, 
beautiful summer followed, the first, my father said, 
since 1816. No corn had been raised in Maine; the people 
had abandoned it altogether, and were raising millet in- 
stead. At that time Indian corn was $4 a bushel, brought 
in coasters from Boston. As the spring was so forward, 
I had half an acre planted, and it grew and got fully ripe, 
as it used to do, and thus it continued to do till 1834, 
when the cold seasons commenced again. On the 5th of 
May this year I rode to mill with a horse and sleigh, and 
the 15th and 16th of that month snow fell six inches deep, 
and no corn ripened that year, though it was planted . 
June 12th; the water froze in many places, and snow did 
fall in old Freedom, Maine. 
To return to my story; as my object in coming to Maine 
was to sell out the old farm, and take father and mother 
back to Ohio, I made it known to them in season. Fa- 
ther was well pleased, but mother would consent on no 
other condition than that I sell out the rest of the family 
and take them, too. As I could not consent to do this. I 
wrote to the boys in Ohio, asking what course I had bet 
ter pursue. They wrote that I must not think of bringing 
on the others, nor of coming without father and mother. I 
offered the farm for sale, but it had uo effect in gaining 
her consent, but the reverse. 
About this time, our sister Rebecca, the youngest of the 
family, a beautiful girl of seventeen, was taken sick, and 
died in two months of quick consumption. This was a 
dreadful blow to all of us. as the bright star had set to 
rise no more to cheer us in this vale of tears. Now, my 
mother could not be induced to go. at any rate. "No, 
never," she would reply, if the subject was mentioned. 
So I wrote to my brothers for directions — their answer 
was. "You must not compel them to come now, but you 
had better stay with them, as changes take place so sud- 
denly — we cannot tell when — you had better wait a 
while." I did, and here I am in the State of Maine yet. 
MY SAW MILL SITE. 
Two men, two horses, and a burro; two Winchesters 
(one was a Ballard), and a pack. Every reader of Forest 
and Stream can finish the picture in liis miud's eye, even 
to the mountains with their first covering of snow, to 
the valleys, the distant settlement and scattered ranches. 
Ostensible object — the location of a saw mill site for next 
season; real motive, anything shootable from elk to 
gopher, from American eagle to English sparrow. Opin- 
ion expressed before trip— by participants — "jolly good 
time, elegant saw timber, lots of game;" by family and 
friends — "whew! big fool, starve to death, heap cold, 
don't go!" Opinion expressed after trip — by all parties: 
"I told you so!" Hence all were bound to be satisfied. 
Doc and I went together. I always hunt him up, be- 
cause I don't like him. My wife does not like him 
either. She claims that he chews tobacco, and is not 
refined in his lauguage. The fact of the case is she hates 
him, because on days when stoves have to be put up, or 
wood chopped, or the washer turned, Doc and I invaria- 
bly have business appointments with the mallards on the 
lake, and those appointments must be kept even if it 
takes a leg. My reasons for dislike are very different. ' 
Doc can drop one with his right, and another with his 
left, while I get feathers with my right. and left. He can 
outfish me, and out-prospect me. Why, the rascal actu- 
ally left me hammering on a galena prospect this sum- 
mer, and, strolling out on the mesa picked up in an 
hour, rough opal, white topaz, and hyalite that he sold 
in Maiden Lane for six hundred dollars, while my lead 
claim is waiting the next move in the tai'iff game. But 
Doc has one redeeming feature. He never complains 
about getting up and making breakfast. If we have no 
other work planned, he lets me sleep as long as I can, and 
he is my first partner to favor my greatest weakness. 
Since our prospecting trip I have been leaded as well as 
my claim, and I knew, especially as we were going to 
have some Massachusetts relatives visit us between 
Thanksgiving and New Years, that a change of scene 
and climate were essential to a restoration of health. 
The region chosen was the eastern slope of the Wasatch 
Plateau in Sanpete and Sevier counties, Fish Lake Mount- 
ains being on southern limit. All the ridges and summits 
in our district were covered with pine timber, and the 
intervening canons and valleys afforded fair autumn 
feed. This is a spring range, and the showers of the late 
summer and early fall produce a good second growth 
when the cattle are being driven to their winter stamp- 
ing ground in the Colorado valley below the Henry- 
Mountains, and the sheep are hurrying to the desert 
wastes of the lower Sevier and of the sage-brush State. 
Of course, it is a good country for deer; but, on the 
other hand, it is a kind of mutual hunting ground for 
Thistle and Sanpete Utes, and we might get left. For- 
tunately all the bad Indians of Utah have had for two or 
three months past very important business dodging the 
government agents and holding pow-wows in San Juan 
County, and the good ones prefer to get their living from 
their white neighbors, so we were unmolested. 
We packed light, having no use for a tent, and well 
aware that after we left the settlements we would have 
plenty of game of some kind or other, Not being an 
adept at the diamond bitch, I concluded that the less we 
took the less ws could lose. Subsequent events ratified 
my judgment. Leaving Provo about three o'clock in 
the afternoon, that night we made Castilla Springs. The 
next day, through a light tracking snow, we followed 
the road over the divide between Utah and Sanpete 
valleys, anil rested the second night in the hotel at Faii- 
view. Fairview boasts two inns. It matters not at 
which the traveler stops, he invariably wishes that he 
had chosen the other. From Fairview we went east by 
a saw mill trail, until we had passed the last vestige of 
civilization and bumped against the precipitous bluff 
that forms the western face of the Wasatch Plateau. 
Our noon camp was at the foot of the ascent, and with 
a mighty vow that until our return to the settlements we 
would abjure all the luxuries of city life, we disposed of 
a can of salmon while the horses finished the oats. Jack 
munched scrub-oaks and service-berry twigs until his 
hunger was satisfied, then we commenced to climb up 
the Id cattle trail, knowing that we had flour, salt, 
baking-powder, and sidemeat enough to last ten days if • 
necessity required. It was a long, hard pull to the sum- 
mit, and the sun was low when we crossed the ridge. 
The last two hours Ave went through a foot of snow. 
Underneath, the ground was in some places soft, in 
others icy. We had t} lead our baasts as best we could. 
On all that western slope we saw not a bird, nor a track, 
but when we reached the level upper terrace everything 
was changed. The warm Colorado valley winds had 
melted the snow from all but the highest crest-line and 
from canons with a northern exposure. The giant steps 
of the plateau province extended away toward the San 
Rafael swell. As we wandered down a short transverse 
divide we could see far to the south the summits of the 
Henry Mountains, while to the northeast lay Castle Val- 
ley and the deserts that border G-reen River canon. 
Came was what we wanted. We had found the saw 
timber and buck tracks were of more interest than 
scenery. The buck tracks were present, but they were 
so cold that we felt that our venison would not be ready 
for the pan before to-morrow. In lieu of this we dropped 
a brace of pine hens from their roosting places, and made 
sine of a good supper. I believe Danclragapus, in late 
fall and early autumn, the most difficult bird in America 
to catch on the wing. It is no trick at all for a fair rifle- 
shot to pick off the heads of the fool birds as they rest in 
conscious aud knot-like security on a dead limb. But 
they always select a tree that is close to a canon, and 
when once alarmed they stretch up their innocent necks 
and shoot, not up, but down like a streak of gray light- 
ning that would beat a mallard backed by a gale, down 
and out of sight before the sportsman has caught even 
the direction. By long practice I have caught the proper 
angle, but cannot yet make sufficient allowance for 
velocity. 
Camp was made about Ave o'clock. Doc dressed the 
birds, got supper, and fixed a "shake down'.' while I pick- 
eted the critters. Plenty of sign of big game encouraged 
us to believe that we had struck the right place. From 
the efforts of our live stock to stampede during the night 
we also believed that there was larger game than we an- 
ticipated in the immediate vicinity, and we kept a fire 
blazing that must have been regarded as a signal for a 
general uprising by the settlers in the valley thirty miles 
away. In the "morning we found bear tracks within a 
hundred yards of camp- 
For a week Ave plodded lazily southward, hunting early 
in the morning and in the afternoon, and moving camp 
in the middle of the day. We saw no person during that 
time, save our own two selves. We met Avith no start- 
ling incidents (honest confession is good for the soul). I 
learned to love Doc (at meal time). Doc conceived a 
similar affection for me (when I played night-herd and 
let him sleep.) We secured three bucks, one mountain 
lion, and one lynx. Had we been market hunters I be- 
lieve that we could easily have secured twenty deer dur- 
ing our short stay. Then Ave crossed the divide west- 
ward into Grass Valley, coming through Burrville to 
Salina, and home by the Fairview route. 
One fact of interest to ornithologists I must not forget 
to mention. In a warm sheltered "draw" having a 
southern exposure, I ran across a covey of Gambel's 
partridge (calhpepla gambeli, Nutt.), here called "Ari- 
zona quail." I had only my rifle with me (4A-70), but I 
secured one specimen. Although badly torn it Avas in 
recognizable condition. It Avas of a spring brood, and 
my identification of it was satisfactory. I took all the 
birds for this season's ('94) chicks. This is, I believe, as 
far north as this species has ever been found. The Ari- 
zona quail is not rare in the Buckskin Mountains, and it 
is sometimes found in the Valley of the Virgin, south of 
the Basin's Rim; but how this solitary lot of young birds 
got as far north as Fish Lake is a query Avith the under- 
signed. 
This trip convinced me that, game commissioners to 
the contrary notAvithstanding, there is on the Wasatch 
Plateau in "Eastern Sanpete and Sevier, and Western 
Emery and Wayne counties an abundance of big game. 
The only thing "for a white man to do is to get in his 
Avork before the Indians make their December round-up. 
Had Ave been two weeks later Ave might have been un- 
successful in everything but the location of the saw mill 
site. ' Shoshone. 
p". S.— The location of that saw mill site is unsatis- 
factory. I am going back next fall to locate over again. 
Provo, Utah. 
Maine's New Laws- 
Augusta, Me., Feb. 15, 1895.— Editor Forest and Strepm: The 
Maine Legislature wiU probably make some changes in their 
game laws affecting the amount of game and fish taken, and 
close time. A bill has already passed to limit the taking of 
trout, and land-locked salmon to 25 instead of 50 pounds, as 
heretofore. It is provided that having less than 26 pounds, the 
taking of one additional fish is not a violation of the law. An- 
other bill passed the house yesterday and probably became a 
law, making penalty for killing moose, caribou or deer, 
illegally, fine and imprsonment. Another bill has had its read- 
ing in the House, to prohibit the killing of cow or calf moose 
under penalty of $300, and imprisonment thirty days. The law 
on taking woodcock is most likely to be made Sept. 15 instead 
of Sept. 1, as now provided. A general law will be reported 
to-day making a new Board of Commoners, three instead of 
two, and increasing their power, also to vacate ah warden's 
commissious with a view to start new, all Avardens to give 
bonds. $30,000 is asked to enforce the law, and propagate fish 
and game. Most of these bills emanate from the Maine Sportg» 
men's Fi§k and frame Association, CBMPLEE, 
