204 
FOREST "AND' STREAM. 
[(5ept. is, 1896, 
0^nt^ ^tid §tnh 
IN THE CASCADE MOUNTAINS. 
Butte Citt, Mont. — Deer stalking and trout fishing in 
the Cascade Mountains, Oregon, under the frowning 
shadows of Mount Hood, constitute the most exhilarating 
and exciting sport known to the average angler and 
hunter of the Webfoot State. We do not have to travel 
Tery far from the city of Portland on the WUlamette 
to reach the very heart of the hunting and fishing 
grounds. 
A pleasant journey of forty miles, due east of Portland, 
will bring one to this paradise of game and fish. An ex- 
cellent <vagon road leads over the Cascade Mountain, and 
the distance from Portland to the summit of the range 
can be easily made in a day and a half of moderate driv- 
ing. But the best hunting and fishing are some distance 
west of the summit, along the streams Sandy, Salmon, 
25g-Zag and Still Creek. 
Our party was weU equipped for an outing of two or 
three weeks. Two two-horse wagons were chartered and 
we had a complete camping outfit, plenty of provisions, 
guns, ammimition and fishing tackle. 
Ten hours' brisk drive brought us to the Sandy, and from 
there the road led up the picturesque valley for about fif- 
teen miles. The Sandy is a genuine mountain torrent. 
At its lowest stage it is a bold, turbulent stream, dashing 
over a rocky bed. At no time of the year are its waters 
clear, although it comes from pure ice and snow. For 
that reason it is not considered a very good fishing stream, 
notwithstanding it abounds in fine trout. 
Salmon, the largest tributary of the Sandy, was reached 
late in the afternoon; it is one of the most beautiful moim- 
tain water courses. Its source is near the summit of the 
Cascades, from the south base of Mount Hood, not far 
from Government Camp. As it does not flow from 
glaciers, the water is as clear as crystal and cold as ice. 
For its entire fength — about twenty-five mUes — it passes 
over a very rochy channel and winds tortuously among 
lofty, timbered mountains, and through deep cafions, 
whose rugged and frowning walls often close in and com- 
press the waters into a very narrow compass. At such 
places the pent-up flood rushes through with great force 
and fury, causing rapids and great swirling eddies. It is 
a magnificent trout stream. 
There was high feasting in the camp that night. Just 
before sundown one of the party killed a fine, fat, young 
blacktail deer. Several of the most expert anglers suc- 
ceeded in capturing about forty toothsome mountain trout 
in less than an hour. These ranged in length from 8 to 
14in. They bit with great avidity and were landed very 
rapidly. Then followed the bivouac and the most refresh- 
ing slumber. Though in the month of August, the night 
air was quite cool and blankets were a comfortable ad- 
junct. 
Twelve miles further up the beautiful and picturesque 
valley of the Sandy brought the party the next day to the 
old and historic ToU House. Here it was concluded to 
pitch camp and remain for several days. The scenery is 
wild and sublime. Lofty mountains rise all round the 
valley to the height of thousands of feet. What added to 
the lonely grandeur of the scene was the fact that there 
was but little vegetation on the mountain sides and sum- 
mits to relieve them of their ruggedness. About forty 
years ago a fearful forest fire swept over the Cascades for 
several hundred miles, destroying everything green. For 
many years the mountains presented nothing but a black- 
ened and charred appearance. Millions of partially de- 
stroyed tree trunks were left standing — mute monuments 
of the vast holocaust. A great many of the old charred 
snags are still left, like so many forest sentinels. In the 
long lapse of years a younger growth has shot up and 
clothed with verdure the general desolation. On all the 
mountains around the Toll House there was but a sparse 
and straggling growth scattered here and there. 
Just below the old Toll House two more streams pour 
into the Sandy, one the rushing Zig-Zag and the other 
Still Creek. The Zig-Zag, as ite name implies, is a most 
tortuous stream, winding into all sorts of shapes, and 
rushing most impetuously over its bouldery channel from 
its source near the mountain's summit until it mingles its 
ice cold floods with the milky-hued Sandy. Still Creek, 
on the other hand, which flows parallel with the turbu- 
lent Zig-Zag for some distance, is a mild and meek little 
watercourse flowing softly over a bed of fine white 
pebbles and sand. Both streams abound in trout. 
A short distance from the ToU House the party went 
into camp and here several days were passed. Many 
magnificent trout were caught, more than the party 
pould possibly eat, and the overflow wa-? generously dis- 
tributed among some campers who wei e less fortunate. 
Several fine blacktail deer were killed and half a dozen 
or more of the whitetails. There was feasting and a 
general good time all round, After the fatiguing and 
exciting chase we had voracious appetites, and when 
liight came stealing over the lofty mountain tops, and 
silently wrapped the valley and streams in its drowsy 
embrace, all were ready to turn in. The distant soimd of 
the rushing Zig-Zag and the more subdued murmur of 
Still Creek, and the sweet, fresh mountain air, all lent 
their gentle influences, and hunters and anglers slept at 
the rate of "forty mfles an hour." 
Elk tracks were discovered by the hunters on several 
occasions and followed eagerly, but they invariably led 
directly up from the valley toward the sides and sima- 
piits of surrounding mountains, and all attempts to over- 
take the game were abandoned. 
Two black bears were suddenly overhauled one day in 
the dense brush near the bank of Sfcill Creek, and were 
quickly tre.ed by dogs and shot. One was a female, and 
search was made at once for the cubs, and two were soon 
foimd in the nest, which was not far away under one of 
the rocky cliffs. They were not killed, but brought to 
to the city for pets, These cubs were several months 
old, and lively, mischievous little fellows. They were 
captured without difficulty, and very soon became per- 
fectly reconciled to captivity. 
Laurel Hill, some eight miles above the Toll House, was 
the next camping place. The tents were pitched at the 
base of a precipitous rocky bluff, which rose several hun- 
dred feet above the level of the valley and within a few 
rods of the Zig-Zag, A great many fish were caught, 
and as the supply greatly exceeded the demand a quan- 
tity was salted and cured by smoke, 
Two of the himters one day sighted a large elk with a 
magnificent pair of antlers. The animsA was fully half 
a mile away, but through a strong field glass a splendid 
view was obtained of the noble game. He stood on the 
summit of a high bluff overlooking the valley, and as it 
would have been next to impossible to reach the spot 
without coming into full view the hunters made no effort 
to stalk him, though they abandoned the attempt with 
great reluctance. 
A huge track of a bear, which must have belonged to a 
grizzly, was also discovered. Several of the hunters fol- 
lowed the imprints, which led toward the mouth of a deep, 
yawning caiion, the bottom of which was covered with a 
dense thicket. However, they could follow the tracks 
only a short distance, for the ground beca me so rocky and 
broken that aU tracks were obliterated. 
While encamped atLaiirel Hill several c f the party made 
a trip to Government Camp and the Summit House, 
which was located a few miles beyond. The trip, though 
rough and fatiguing, was enjoyed. They visited the 
famous Summit lakes and caught some fish from those 
wild, isolated and romantic little sheets of water. Gov- 
ernment Camp is the place where the trail leading to the 
base of Mount Hood leaves the main road that crosses the 
Cascade Mountains. It is the route geserally taken by all 
who ascend to the summit of the Snow Peak, and Gov- 
ernment Camp is a general point of rendezvous to all 
tourists and Alpine climbers. Both the Summit House 
and Government Camp are immecliately beneath the 
frowning shadow of that vast mountain sentinel. On a 
clear, bright day, the view of Mounij Hood from either 
point is grand and awe inspiring. The colossal upheaval 
seems as if it would topple over and bmy the beholder. 
On the morning of the flfteenth day after setting out 
from Portland on the outing trip, we broke camp and 
headed for the city. All voted the mountain excursion a 
■success. The trophies comprised deer, bears, trout and 
a few dozen feathered game. J. M. Baltimobe. 
IN CAROLINA QUAIL FIELDS. 
How sweet are the things c»f the past if they make 
pleasant and profitable the presont, like the hanging of a 
pretty drapery or the purchase of a precious gem. This 
hunt is a thing of the past, yet 1 recall it as a wholesome 
privilege. 
The trunks have been packed and the long, weary jour- 
ney across this big continent and back is over. The ex- 
tending of the glad hand of hope and rec€)iving the mar- 
ble heart of disappointment (commercially) is happily at 
an end. Months have passed. The autumn leaves with 
all their fragrance and beauty are gone, Jennette spends 
much time in her kennel with her young hopefuls, sons 
and daughters of Mecca. Mont lies idly around, dream- 
ing of his days afield; while staid Mecca, long wanted, 
but recently obtained, is trying to accu stom himself to 
his new surroundings. The guns rest snugly in the cabi- 
net, always a joy to see with their scairs of battle well 
rubbed down, though handsome still in their graceful 
outlines. I have just left George at the club, finished a 
good cigar and a better chat, and he told me with splen- 
did emotion and graceful gesticulations that our last trip 
to North Carolina rests and snuggles iiu his memory as 
one hunting trip that he wiU always lcx)k back to with 
much pleasure and great pride from the fact that annoy- 
ances were few and disappointments, just one. An ideal 
holiday he had had following his young, dogs for a whole 
week in the hands of that excellent handler Jno. N. 
Lewis, he had witnessed with so much zoal their improved 
work from day to day. The evenings were gone over, 
spent so pleasantly by the big log fire in the snug log 
house, listening with aching sides to Lewis's by no means 
limited repertory of stories and the day's hunt gone over, 
each point well described, all good shots mentioned and 
bad ones forgotten, and the much needed ^dreamless 
rest. 
We reached ReidsvUle one bright Sunday morning in 
early November, where Mr. Witt, with his hack and the 
same young gray horse and the same old black one, met 
us just as he had done the year before. The only change 
noticeable in the whole outfit was the increase in avoir- 
dupois of Mr. Witt, and still he claims to be a temperance 
man. The drive to Monroeton was interspersed with 
stories of the changes in North Carolina of political faith 
by Mr. Witt and hymns sung by George, 
A warm reception was accorded us. All looked as we 
had left them the year before. In fact, everybody and 
everything looked so natural, it seemed impossible we 
had been away a full twelve months. Our room was 
ready, the traps were unpacked, and then a visit to the 
kennel seemed in order. George is not certain to this day 
whether or not Donald knew him, he having been in Lewis's 
care over three months, and in that or less time Lewis 
will impress any dog with the fact that there must be but 
one master, and that must be Lewis. This was also true 
of Pab and Rush. Had I any doubts of Mont and Jen- 
nette they were soon dispelled by their glad pranks at 
seeing their master again. Jennette and I had had many 
pleasant days together after grouse only a month ago, 
while Mont had rested at home after a long and nearly 
fatal illness. 
A perfect Monday morning broke to our view. Every- 
thing was white with frost, the air was clear and bracing; 
but it was not the morning for an early start; the birds 
would not be astir. However, delay at this stage of the 
game was wearing to the nerves. So after breakfast by 
Mrs. Hopkins, grace by George, a story by Lewis, the 
start was made, George and Lewis in one direction, Hop- 
kins and I in another. 
By the edge of an old creek corn stood in shacks await- 
ing the fall husking; across this in the distance a most 
promising stubble revealed itself. Toward it we make 
our way. Mont and Jennette are down and both showing 
a speed and quality calculated to make their master vow 
they are the greatest pair of dogs on earth, but pride 
must take a tumble. Between two of these corn rows lay 
a covey of quail, and Mont, who is heading Jenn by 
several lengths, runs into them without showing any in- 
timation whatever that he ever scented them for a second, 
and they go to cover. My heart sinks within me, for this 
is my first hunt with him since his four months of severe 
sickness with infectious distemj)er and typhoid fever, 
which had left him with an emaciated head and clapping 
lower jaw, with his scent very much in question; and 
while he had been in North Carolina nearly a month, the 
weather had been so dry up to a day or two before our 
coming that Lewis said he didn't believe any dog he had 
could pmeU a "beefsteak and onions." 
Now the real test had come, and I alone was to witness 
the outcome. I requested Hopkins to take Jennette up, 
while I put Mont at his old specialty, "singles." I must 
confers a feeling of a battle between hope and despair as 
I called this fine son of Antonia to me, and threatened 
him, but chastised him not, and started across the low- 
lands in the direction the birds had gone, and poor Mont, 
with his flag lowered, followed at heel. 
Across the Cripple and I call "Getaway, be confined," and 
again with head and tail high and back forming the let- 
ter S he plunges into the thicket. How those leaves did 
fly as he swung to the right, and from a full running gait 
stopped! So sudden was it that his tail in one of its rev- 
olutions came to a full stop at right angles. I step in 
and flush a bird and miss. Intensity of feeling alone 
would have made me miss a barn with me inside of it 
and the doors shut. Mont looks reproachful and Jenn 
pulls at her leader. We are "at it," and she insists on her 
ishare of the fun. 
A little further comes another point, and my invoked 
(dog is in his glory and prime again. This time two rise 
and two fall, Jenn is released and performs one of her 
many specialties — retrieves them and immediately pro- 
ceeds to point another, with Mont backing. Now, indul- 
gent friends, I own this pair of dogs (and others), but they 
are my first pair of modern field dogs; they cost me a lot 
of money to get them where they are (perfectly broken), 
besides the expense of $100 to save one of their lives, I 
love a good dog, and these two are to me much. Their 
love for their master is always apparent. Their work 
'had few faults and many virtues. Mont's nose was no 
. longer in doubt, and I was having a part of my yearly 
((well deserved, I hope) holiday. If the eyes grew moist, 
the nerves unstrung, and I wandered back to childhood 
and the delights of my "new books" with red tops, and 
once more played "cobs for horses" in the sand on the 
isunny hillside, and introduced that time into my shoot- 
ing, you can understand why night found me with just 
■ten quail and a wood duck, but never happier in my life. 
Before the log fire and behind some good pipes I listened 
ito enthusiastic George relating his experiences of the day; 
and I force him to listen to my own, while Lewis sat by 
with that comprehensive smile, and I verily believe 
a-eflected, "those fellows need more training than their 
idogs," 
This morning Lewis loans me an extra dog, a real little 
wonder. She is put down fresh and keen, my dogs being 
along on leaders as a reserve force. Birds seem scarce, 
:so that after an hour of unproductive work I request that 
all the dogs be turned loose. We enter an immense 
tstubble. At one end of the clearing is seen a high- 
pointed knoll. I make my way toward this elevation, 
where I can watch the work of the dogs, one hurrying 
Ihere, another scurrying there, while Mont, with head high, 
liis tail cutting graceful circles, passes aroimd the base of 
tthe hill and begins working up from the further side, 
lEfhortening the distance toward me with increasing 
istrides. 
This is where I saw a reproduction of Blink's celebrated 
painting in real life. Within SOyds, of me lay a covey of 
.quail; the three dogs came upon them from three differ- 
ent directions at almost the same time, each securing the 
.coveted scent and a ftill point. As I have said before, 
this hunt is over, 'tis a thing of the past, yet how it 
;flavor8 the present. Memory serves me well. I can feel 
the sensation yet. Mont and Jennette are lying beside 
me; their worth I know; their work I remember; their 
talents I appreciate. I flush and kill three birds (most 
imusual for me), one for each dog. Jennette retrieves 
them all. 
That night George had the floor, and his dog Donald 
the crown, and well he deserved it; he had done great 
work that day, and at night he had a fond master, 
Donald is of the old Gladstone type, long and racily built, 
with a sure nose and the endurance of steel. I look for 
this dog to win fame at some of our national events. I 
am satisfied that his last great effort of that day was told 
just after I had passed into total oblivion in a neighboring 
bed in the same room. 
My first thought next morning was, how short is the 
night, but what a time I am having, and I must not lose 
any of it in slumber, George says, "Crawl out; we can 
sleep after we get home," After a hearty breakfast, and 
drawing fresh dogs from the kennel, we make our start, 
and return at noon with a fine string of birds, I greet 
George with, "Oh, I am on to 'em. Am shooting like a 
'profesh.'" Lewis remarks, "If that fellow keeps on, I 
won't have birds enough left to train my dogs on." He 
suggests that I am working my dogs to death, and tells 
me to spell them a bit by taking his dog Ben Giles that 
afternoon. Should any one accuse Lewis of being foxy 
at times, I trust he will have the modesty not to deny it. 
Knowing something of B. Giles's reputation', I decided to 
have taken along an extra to fall back on. Wise thought! 
I got close enough just twice that afternoon to that dog 
to see him scatter to the four corners of the earth two 
coveys of birds, and then watched him try to drive them 
off the corners. Of these birds, with the assistance of 
my extra dog, I got just three. I had been once on this 
trip "too glad" to shoot. This afternoon I was "too mad." 
I have since my return presented our friehd Hopkins 
with a gun, Lewis, to offset the damage he might do to 
the bird crop, has given him Ben Giles. There will be 
plenty of birds there another season, and they ought to 
be big, strong and healthy from the exercise Ben wiU give 
them. 
Another morning, yet dark and dreary; fog and rain 
seemed the order of the day. It is decided that we shall 
go to the old Beaver Pond. If we cannot find quail we 
will try ducks. This journey of five miles in a North 
Carolina tobacco wagon was one of the features of our 
outing. All we needed was the broad-brimmed som- 
brero to resemble the pioneers cf the early days wending 
their way westward, then tht wild and woolly West," 
now the great and glorious West. We divided into two 
parties, leaving Bob to make camp. We put a pair of 
dogs into the wet weeds and were off, A fog horn would 
have been of more service than a gun. It was a hard, 
improfitable morning's work, with everything in soak, 
the sand soft and yielding, the tramping most fatiguing. 
However, upon our return to camp we could forgive aii 
hardships. The horses were sleepily feeding from the 
box, the extra dogs were tugging at their chains, fairly 
howling their welcome. Bob was whistling the ' 'Alabama 
Qgoii" and poking at a roaring fiye, whUe the boiling pot 
