484 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Deo. 19, 1896. 
plunged into the fog. How those Eskimos kept their 
bearing across that waste of snow was surprising, al- 
though I imagine it was hy the direction of the wind, 
which was, fortunately for us, at our backs, 
We were in the fog ten hours, in blinding snow while 
on the ice cap, and came out on the north side when the 
moon, breaking through a rift in the clouds, lit up the 
surface of a glacier far below. Following down its left 
bank, a crossing was made over its slippery coating of 
wet ice, and the natives started off up the side of an 
adjoining spur into the fog again. 
I was well nigh exhausted now, about midnight, and 
John was calling on me to stop. I yelled to the natives 
ahead to give us a rest, but they had no mercy. Sa, real- 
izing our dependence on them to get us to camp, not 
having the slightest idea where we were, John and I 
drained the last droj) of spirits from his pocket flask, and 
for the hundredth time screwed up our will forces and 
plunged into the mist after them. 
The end was nearly over now. I vaguely remember 
wandering around in the fog with the moon dimly shin- 
ing through it lighting up a waste of boulders; boulders 
everywhere, and four dark objects slowly picijing their 
way over them, keeping together for fear of losing each 
other. Once, as we reached the ridge of the spur, we 
came through the mist and looked out over XJmanak 
Fiord and among the islands and nunataks to the north, 
with a band of blood-red sky lying along the horizon. 
Wearily we toiled down the slopes into Ekaluit, where 
almost before we knew where we were the white walls of 
the tent loomed through the misty morning air, and we 
entered, rousing th*^ heavy sleepers within, and asked for 
food and drink. Nourishment, a long, refreshing sleep 
and a week nursing tender feet, and the deer hunt, with 
its deleterious effects, was a thing of the past. 
It will go down to history as a chapter of failures, yetl 
am glad to have the memory of such an unusual experi- 
ence. My hunter's instinct still troubles me at times 
when I think of the swollen river, the loss of game and 
the ignominious retreat, hut on the other hand I have 
just enough humanity to be happy in the thought that on 
that retreat rested the safety of a doe and fawn browsing 
on the now snow-covered lowlands in the heart of Nug- 
suak, Greenland. Russell, W. Porter. 
ISLANDS OF THE PACIFIC. 
II.— Cocos Island. 
Cocos Island is a little beauty spot, west-southwest 
from Panama, distant some 600 miles. Its shores, gen- 
erally steep and rocky, are indented by several little bays, 
each with its tiny white beach. Lying in a region of 
frequeat rains, it U one of the best watering places in the 
Pacific. 
Then there are the old legends of its once being a pi- 
ratical rendezvous, and the supposition of buried treasure 
which always hovers around such places. Indeed, T be- 
lieve there was once a schooner fitted out in San Fran- 
cisco to search for buried treasure on Cocos Island. I 
never learned if they found any. 
The island is small, but high, the sides nearly perpen- 
dicular, with a flat table-land at the top. It is very heavi- 
ly wooded, and the trees are in turn covered with a dense 
network of vines and creepers everywhere dotted with 
bright yellow and white flowers, something like a morn- 
ing glory, but larger. 
Tbe island is at its best after a shower. Like all trop- 
ical countries, the rain comes in torrents. It rains fiercely 
for perhaps an hour and then stops as quickly as it began, 
the sun breaks through the clouds and every leaf is all 
alive with sparkling rain drops. Beheld from the 
anchorage the island is then a magnificent scene. The 
green wall of foliage, with its myriads of yellow and 
white flowers, each leaf and flower bright with rain 
drops, hundreds of little waterfalls breaking out from the 
green wall, and falling with a grand sweep to the beach 
below. Then there is game — pigeons very like in size 
and color to the wild pigeon of America; and wild hogs, 
said to be descendants from stock left by Capt, Cjok. 
Back in the 6O3 I was one of the crew of an American 
bark which called at Cocos for water. The casks were 
easily filled by rolling^ them up the beach to on e of the 
numerous waterfalls. Our work was soon done, and then 
all hands went off for a frolic. One boat, with the second 
mate, went for cocoanuts, wjiile the rest, with the mate, 
went hog hunting. Our mate was very unpopular, but 
there was so much fascination in the idea of going after 
wild hogs that he had by far the larger party. 
The mate, Mr, Allen, carried the only gun and went 
ahead. We floundered along through the thick bushes, 
over rocks, wading streams and fighting moEquitoes for 
some time. We had nearly reached the highest part of 
the island when one of the party discovered a hog soma 
distance away. Mr. Allen saw that he could get no good 
chance where he was, but on looking about saw a small 
ledge a few rods off that promised a better opportunity. 
Creeping along carefully, he reached the place where, by 
pushing the gun through some vines, he thought he had 
the game sure; but that little ledge proved to be the lair 
of an old gpw with her family of young pigs. As the 
mate shoveff^Eis gun through the vines the old sow took 
it for a challenge, and with a grunt and a roar charged 
directly at his face, which from his crouching position 
was all she could see. Then came the catastrophe. The 
mate had taken position on the edge of the ledge; at his 
back was a ravine some 20ft. deep, its sides forming an 
acute angle, and the whole composed of rough rock 
covered with a mat of vines and creepers. In his haste 
to regain his feet Mr. Allen lost his balance altogether, 
and with a wild yell of fright went over backward, gun 
one way, mate another, the old sow stopping at the edge 
of the cliff to snarl her defiance. It was fun for the boys, 
but mate Allen was badly demoralized. To make it 
worse, his gun had been discharged in the tumble, and be- 
fore he could shake himself together and reload the game 
w8s gone. "What are you laughing at?" he roared, 
glaring round at the men. 
The next sight of game proved more fortunate. Mr. 
Allen shot a large boar, breaking hia foreleg, and the men 
finished him with- clubs. We rolled him down to the 
beach, cleaned, cooked and tried to eat, but it was a mis- 
erable failure. We might get along with its being tough, 
but the flavor was beyond human endurance. 
Among our crew was a long-geared Yankee from Bos- 
ton, I He had become dissatisfied with the ship, and 
made up his mind to desert. The night after the hunt he 
rolled his clothitig up as snug as possible, packed it in a 
tub and climbed down the cable, while his mates lowered 
the tub after him, Reaching the water, and putting a line 
from the tub around his neck, he struck out for the land. 
The distance was barely two miles and he was a powerful 
swimmer, so we felt no fear for his reaching the shore, 
We met him some months afterward in Talcahuano, 
Chili, when he told us his story. He said: "After I left 
the ship I laid my course by a star, and struck out for the 
shore. I took my time about it, for I knew I had a long 
swim, and I wanted my strength to last me to the end, I 
got along very well for a while until in crossing a tide-rip 
my tub was swamped and hung up and down, I did not 
dare to let go of it, for all my clothes were there, and it 
would be death to land without them. I would not let 
them go and turn back to the ship, and so I shut my teeth 
hard and held on for shore. 
"Many times during that swim I thought it was all 
over with Dick; but somehow I couldn't give up as long 
as I could move a leg. At last, however, I thought my 
time had come sure; I could just keep my lips above 
water, while my legs were almost up and down, and so 
stiff I could hardly move them. I was just taking a 
pood-by look at the stars when my toes touched bottom. 
That ga.ve me a little lift and I soon crawled out on the 
beach, dragged my tub after me and lay there until I had 
recovered some of my strength. 
"A few days after a bark came in and I swam off to 
her. went up to Tomby and shipped, and here I am." 
We had fine sport bathing here. We would go ashore, 
strip at some little basin under a waterfall, lather our- 
selves from head to foot and then stand under the cas- 
cade and wash the soap off. 
We caught many fish, some marked like trout, but 
without the adipose dorsal. Then there were leather- 
jackets, John Dorys and many others that I could net 
name. 
Bat our play was soon over, our water casks were full, 
and with one man short we stood out to sea, while many 
eyes were turned regretfully for a last look at fair Cof os. 
Tarpon. 
AFTER DEER. 
A Tramp In the New Brunswick Woods. 
Early on the morning of Dec. 29 three sportsmen 
(would-be) f>nd a driver started away from the market 
pquare of a New Brunswick town in a big two-horse sled. 
We sat on hay and were covered un to the chins with 
robes and blankets. Our names: Duncan, Jack and 
Allegor. The driver, a farmer in summer and a lumber- 
man in winter, had been named by his parents and the 
parson Bob Black, and renamed bv a colored cook from 
Washington, D. C, Bob White. So Bob White he was 
called. 
After we had traveled through the hills for nearly an 
hour Allegor, the recorder of this trip, espied fox tracks 
through the woods at the roadside, and got out with his 
rifle to try to shoot something. Bob White smiled a thin 
smile under his iron-gray moustache, but said nothing. 
The other two laughed loudly and pulled the blankets 
closer to their chins. The horses continued their sedate 
trot, leaving Allegor alone, with the snow nearly reaching 
to his waist. As he was plunging forward two partridges 
puffed up suddenly from under the snow and perched on 
the branch of a birch tree a few rods in front of him. 
The hunter raised his gun and knocked the head off the 
nearest bird. Then he fired at the further bird, which 
flew away unharmed. Partridge in hand, he plowed his 
way back to the road and shouted after his companions. 
That evening Bob White and his passengers arrived 
safely at Snodge's camp on the Dunbar, and were regaled 
with pork and beans, warm bread, and tea hot and strong 
enough to throw a Chinaman into nervous prostration. 
The cook served the grub; the "boss" was "mighty glad 
to see them," and the men grinned and spit, which atten- 
tions were due chiefly to Jack's checked knickerbockers. 
Then every man lighted his pipe, more wood was forced 
into the red-hot cooking stove and the boss told a story. 
More stories followed, stories of huge loads of logs hauled 
by small horses, of shipwreck, of big crops, of accidents 
on the steam drives, and of fights with bears and pan- 
thers. We did our best to help things along and all the 
boys tried our tobacco. 
Our blankets, which had been warmed by the fire, 
were spread at one end of the camp, and after a fond 
good night we retired and dreamed awful dreams of 
Indian devils and bull moose. At about 4 in the morn- 
ing Allegor awoke and saw the teamsters light their lan- 
terns and go noiselessly out of the door to feed their 
horses. Then the cook got up and started his fire, and by 
the time his beans were hot and his tea steeped the whole 
camp was afoot. 
After breakfast, with our snowshoes on our feet, our 
guns in our hands and everything else we owned on our 
backs, we struck off into the forest in search of the red 
deer. The sky was clear, the temperature several degrees 
out of sight below zero and our hearts light. The only 
oints we exposed to the weather were our noses, and 
y keeping our pipes in a red-hot state all the time we 
saved those valuable smeUers from freezing. Duncan 
led the way, I next, and Jack, with many attempts to 
walk out of his snowshoes, brought up the rear. Duncan, 
as seen by his loyal followers, was a sight never to be 
forgotten. The pack on his back was lumpy and bulky, 
and only allowed the top of his bearskin cap to show 
above it. Our frying-pan, which had been tied to one of 
the straps, kept count of his steps by whacking him in 
the small of the back. His legs were buried in three 
pairs of stockings, and the butt of his canvas-c^sed rifle 
frequently jerked back and each time struck Allegor be- 
low the belt. 
After traveling thus for a great many miles and seeing 
nothing possessed of life except a red-headed woodpecker 
who seemed possessed of humor also, and laughed at us 
from the top of a dead tree, we decided that it was dinner 
time and that our watches were wrong (they made it 
10 o'clock), and so stopped and unslung our packs. Dun- 
can with a snowshoe cleared a space at the foot of a 
maple tree, and Allegor, axe on shoulder, went forth to 
chop some dry limbs off a huge beech which had been 
recently blown to the ground. Jack, with a look of grim 
determination on his brow and cartridges in both barrels 
of his shotgun, went back to slay the humorous wood- 
pecker. It was not long before a brisk fire was throwing 
8moke and warmth into the air, and the frying-pan, filled 
with thin slices of fat bacon, was ready to place on top 
of the first bed of coals. While Duncan was melting 
snow and Allegor was trying to find the tea, two reports 
rang through the woods, followed by victorious cheers, 
rendered in Jack's barbaric voice. 
"It must be a deer," sai^ Duncan. 
"Or a bear," said I. 
In a few minutes Jack appeared, carrying one squirrel. 
The idiot held it aloft by the tail in his innocent glee, 
and Duncan said something which caused the complica- 
tion of forked sticks we had reared above the fire to fall 
asunder. When the bacon was fried to a turn Jack in 
his modesty pocketed the deceased Fquirrel and conde- 
scended to eat and drink with his less fortunate com- 
E anions. Toward the end of the meal I noticed that 
•uncan, who was sitting opposite to me, had stopped 
eating, and, doughnut in hand (half of it was in his open 
mouth), was gazing at something outside my line of 
vision. The expression on my friend's face was so wild 
that instead of turning my head to see what was behind 
me my eyes glued themselves to that unfortunate particle 
of doughnut, where it lay midway between his jaws and 
cavernous throat. Presently, however, he slid his hand 
to his rifle, raised it and fired within half a foot of my 
ear. Then the spell was broken, the doughnut swallowed 
with a gasp, and I turned my head. I saw the hind- 
quarters of some sort of animal disappearing among the 
distant trees. 
Duncan sprang up, yelling, "I hit him! I hit him!" 
but as he didn't find any blood on the snow he returned 
and glanced at the fire and made remarksnot compliment- 
ary to the modern rifle. Jack, with a smile wherein mod- 
esty and pride were strongly mingled, drew the squirrel 
from his pocket. 
After finishing dinner and repacking the grub, we 
tramped on through the woods, still heading norths 
Toward sundown we found a flock of pirtridges, and man- 
aged to bag flve of them. We had now reached the 
primeval forest of spruce, and as the twilight was slowly 
stealing down we looked for a place to spend the night. 
A very suitable one was found on the lee side of a hedge 
of sjJruce bushes, and Jack and Allegor immediately set to 
work scooping out a trench m the snow. Duncan 
attacked a tree with his axe, and soon had the greater 
part of it split into firewood, A camp-fire in the winter 
woods requires a great deal of fuel. 
By the time that the last streak of daylight had faded 
away from the wintery hill tops we three were comfort- 
ably seated in our trench, with fir boughs and blankets 
under us, the fire in front and high walla of snow protect- 
ing us from the night wind. Partridges hissed in the pan 
and slices of frozen bread were placed to thaw. After a 
most savory supper, pipes and pouches were drawn forth, 
more wood was turned on to the fire, and a few yams 
were spun. The wind died out to an occasional sigh in 
the forest, and the big stars gazed down at us through the 
tree tops. Now and then the silence of the night was 
startled by the crying of a fox or the hooting of an 
owl. 
Gradually our tired, outstretched legs becamp wonder- 
fully comfortable and our snow-strained eyes began to 
close; so we tucked away our pipes, rolled ourselves up in 
our blankets and floated off into a land of rest and 
dream. At intervals throughout the night some one was 
awakened by the cold and sat up long enough to feed the 
fire. 
Before 6 in the morning the delicate aroma of coffee 
rose to the brightening sky, and the remaining partridges 
sizzled in the frying-pan alongside of a few slices of fat 
pork. It was with some regret that we took up our packs 
after breakfast and left our snug retreat, making our trail 
still northward. 
We wanted to strike MacNab's lumber camp before 
night, and from there take a team back to town. But 
this was not to be. 
After tramping for a few hours we started three deer in 
a low piece of alder land, and started hotly after them. 
What wind there was blew off the deer. It was 8:35 
when we sighted the game, and 3:30 when we stopped for 
lunch. We had been running pretty steadily all that 
time. After smoking our pipf s and repacking our loads 
Duncan wanted to ascertain how far out of our course the 
chase had taken us, and began to look for his pocket 
compass. It was not in its usual place, on his watch 
guard; it was not in his pocket; then where in thunder 
was it? No one could tell him, so he began staring dis- 
consolately at the grim tree trunks, to see which side the 
moss grew on. We found the moss after a while, but did 
not feel quite sure if it should cover the south side of a 
tree or the north side. Duncan said that it grew on the 
north to protect the bark from cold winds, and Jack 
swore that it grew on the south because it couldn't help 
it, 
Tnis dispute was not settled until we reached civilization. 
That night we camped in a snug little hollow, making a 
deep trench, as on the previous night, and eating some 
bacon and two small squirrels for tea. Before rolling in 
we sang songs to cheer our heavy hearts, and shivering 
hares came out onto the moonlit snow to hear our choice 
rendering of "The Younger Son was a Son-of-a-gun" and 
"Sweet Marie," 
But why describe the events of the two following days? 
We tramped like heroes, and Duncan froze his nose. We 
finished the bacon and bread, and didn't see any deer, 
partridges or hares. Jack fell down a snowed-over gully 
and broke his pet pipe, and I burnt a hole through the 
sole of my shoe- pack. We shot and ate every thmg we 
saw, but we didn't see very much. On the evening of the 
third day after losing the compass we were rejoiced to 
hear the rattle of chains, the shouts of men and the jingle 
of sled-bells. We broke into a brisk run, and soon came 
out onto a well-beaten hauling road. Four teams, with 
their drivers, choppers, tenders and swampers, were return- 
ing from the landing, and onto the rear team we clung, 
and soon found ourselves in comfortable quarters in the 
lumbermen's shanty. We ate as we had not eaten for 
three days, and then we inquirpd our whereabouts. 
"This is MacNab's camp on the North Tay," said the 
boss. So we got there despite the moss on the trees. 
Theodore RoBERTSi 
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