FOREST AND STREAM. 
TALES TOLD BY THE CAMP-FIRE— I. 
IIY AMATEUll. 
Some tales have been told by the light of the wood fire in 
the shades of the mighty woods, now so rapidly becoming a 
thing of the past, and under the clear night sky, which seem 
worthy of being preserved. But how? The writer knows 
of but one way, and that is, if you think as he does: to em- 
balm them in print. 
Six of us had gone out to Hoy^s Wilderness in Maryland 
for a three weeks' hunt back in 1884. Hoy's Wilderness 
was the favorite hunting grounds of old Meshack Browning, 
the gtfat Maryland bear hunter, who killed more bears than 
I care to mention. Originally, most likely, a swamp, it has 
to a certain extent dried out, and is, or was, a mass of trees, 
briers, heavy grass, undergrowth, and all that goes to make 
it what it is called : a wilderness. Here and there are log 
cabins, but at long distances apart, and who huUt them or- 
occupied them no one seems to know, and no one cares. 
They are tenanted from time to time by parties of hunterd 
such as ours, among whom is a sort of unwritten law that 
on breaking camp whatever may seem to be useless to those 
vacating the premises shall be safely stowed away in the 
cabin, to be used by any one coming thereto and needing the 
same. Thus it was that when we went into our cabin our 
guide found in a cupboard two bottles of whisky, a 31b. 
canister of powder, a bag of shot, two or three boxes of gun 
caps, a ham in canvas and in good condition, a lot of empty 
shells for shotguns, and two sets of reloading tools, one 10 
and the other 12-gauge, besides a lot of miscellaneous other 
things. None of these were used by us, but the supply was 
increased when we left. 
Our guide, who was going away as soon as he saw us 
safely housed, to return, however, from time to lime during 
our stay in the cabin, remarked to us as we were fixing up: 
"I want to tell you fellers this isn't the safest place in the 
world, for you all seem so mightily tickled with it. Back 
in 1878 I brought two young fellers here, and I've always 
been mighty sorry that 1 did bring 'em. They were nice 
young men. You must bear in mind that there's painters in 
Hoy's Wilderness, and they're just as savage and dangerous 
as any animal anywhere in the world. These two young 
men were from Pittsburg, Pa., and they had a good outfit, 
but they weren't woodsmen. After I'd left 'em they got 
along all right, till one evening seemed like an awful storm 
was coming up; the sky was getting overcast, and occasion- 
ally you could see a flash of lightnin'. They were standin' 
in the doer there, when they beard a cry that sounded off 
yonder in the woods like a woman or a child in distress. 
They looked at each other, and one said : 
" 'That's surely a child. We can't let a child be out in 
such a storm, and the youngster doesn't seem far away. I'm 
going out to see what's wrong.' 
^ 'No,* said the other, 'we'll both go.' 
'"No, we won't;' said the first. 'You're the cook this 
week, and you git supper and I'll go out and find the young- 
ster; and when I get back we'll all have something hot to 
eat.' 
"He was about starting off without any gun or any other 
firearms, when his partner told him he'd belter take a gun. 
And he did take a .44 Remington rifl» rim-fire, and half a 
dozen or so of cartridges besides the one in the gun, and left 
to hunt the child. 
"The other went ahead getting supper, and finally sat 
down and waited, and waited, and kept on waiting. Mean- 
time the storm blew around, the clouds drifted away and the 
moon came out. The young feller that was left here in the 
cabin hadn't heard any more of the child, except onte after 
his partner left him, and then he noticed that the sound 
seemed furder away than it had been. He set here and 
played cards with himself — there is a sort of a card game that 
I've seen felleis play all by their lone selves, an' seem as 
much tickled over wmnin' the game as if they was playin' 
for money and had won a whole pot, but I never could get 
the bane of it;.mebbe some of you fellers can play it. Well, 
he set an' played that game till about 10 o'clock an' more, jin' 
then bein' religiously inclined he read a chapter out of the 
good book, said his prayers, took a drink o' whisky and 
went to. bed, leavin' the supper set out fso that when his part- 
ner came in he'd have somethin' to eat 
"When he waked up in the mornin' his partSfer wasn't 
there, so he ate his breakfast, and was powerful ilneasy, 
because I had told ^em there wasn't another cabin nearder 'a 
twenty or twenty-five miles off into the wilderness; and you 
know it's about twenty mile back to where we started from 
Ihis-mornin', and them fellers and 1 started from the same 
place, 
'■'Well, he got so troubled in his mind that he took his gun, 
a Winchester of 1873, tilled up the magazine, an' took a lot 
o' cartridges an' started out after his partner. They had a 
dog with 'em that belonged to the missing man, an' he turned 
this dog loose, an' the dog started off right on to the trail, 
an' led him an awful round, so that he was really lost, but 
he managed to keep with the dog, and the dog kept the trail. 
At one place back here in the woods, some place, I don't 
know exactly where, he saw blood and hair of an animal, 
and the dog got very much excited, and from time to time 
he saw more blood, but not all the time, and the dog kept on 
the trail, till at last the feller found the trees an' things look- 
in' familiar, an' about a half a mile up yonder in the woods 
he walked out on lo a monstrous big painter dead as a door 
nail, and under the painter was his partner, and he was dead 
as a door nail too. 
"When he found his partner in that condition he felt 
powerful discouraged, but he managed to roll the painter off^ 
■of him, an' he picked him up an' carried him here to this, 
very cabin, and here he found me, for I'd agreed to come 
back occasiona ly, just as I have with you fellers; an' I felt 
scandalous when 1 baw him come luggin' in his dead partner, 
and when he saw me he just fainted clean away. Well, I 
got him to, taut he was ravin' crazy. I took him and the- 
corpse home with me, an' then I came back, and skun the 
painter, an' I have the hide at home, an' my old woman uses- 
it for a bed quilt in extra cold weather. Friends come an'' 
took 'em both away, the dead and the livin', an' I do hear 
tell the live feller's into a 'sylum up in Pennsylvany, a ravin'' 
man'ac; an' I do hear too he got well an's a-keepin' a store in 
Pittsburg; but he's lost all stomach for the woods, an' if any- 
body asks him to go huntin' or shows him a gun he goes off 
an' gits drunk as liquor '11 make him. I dunno which is so, 
but havin' pious notions into him I 'spect the last tale's true 
an' that he's a storekeeper. 
"Now y(iu fellers remember, there ain't any wotnen wan- 
deritt' round loose, nor no babes in the wood, sitiated in 
Hoy's Wildfrness, an' if you hear any of 'em hollerin' in dis- 
tress you'll know il;s a painter, an' house yourselves up, an' 
keep away from it. That's all." 
[SKCONO TAIjE to BE TOLU NEXT WEEK.] 
SECOND CRUISE OF THE CURLEW. 
TltE Skipper, the Surgeon and the Soldier had many anx- 
ious thoughts about certain ducks they had seen flying over 
the trees and dropping behind them on a little i-land in 
Story River. The appearances seemed to indicate (hat there 
must be a small pond there, and if it should prove true it 
would be a good place to sit calmly down in improvised 
stands and knock them over as they came in. 
So these thoughts finally crystallized into a fixed determi- 
nation to go again. The Curlew was accordingly provisioned 
and the trip undertaken. Tne Clerk was too bu y and cou'd 
not go, but the other three had a look of stern determination 
about them, and it boded no good to any ducks that might 
come in sight The breeze was fresh and fair down the har- 
bor, and the expedition made sail and departed. The run to 
the' mouth of Station Creek, with the help of wind and tide, 
was quickly made. Two reefs were taken in the sail to pre- 
pare for the windward work in Ihe creek, but the declining 
sun took the wind with it, and at dark an anchorage was 
found at the ' Doctor's cross over," so named because the 
enthusiastic Surgeon saw a few birds flying across the 
marshes at that point on the first cruise, and his ardent soul 
imagined that the flight would go on forever. They did not 
find it so, although tbe Soldier paddled about until it was too 
late to see and picked up a few birds. Jt was with sighs of 
deep content that the party gathered at the supppr table, richly 
stocked with EUiot's choicest efforts, and tot-acco tasted good 
that evening, while the guns were cleaned and put away in 
readiness for another day. 
The other day dawned fair, warm and calm. Light 
zephyrs, a little tide and the oars took us nearly Uirough the 
creek to Trenchard's Inlet, but an adverse tide and night 
came together, and we anchored, ate and slept, like honest 
people. On this day we made acquaintance with ihe Dutch- 
man. This person was the skipper of a light draft old trad- 
ing sloop, hailing from Charleston. When we first found 
him he was ashore in the mud on one side of the creek, and 
we smiled superior and kept afloat. We were struggling 
against the tide with a light wind, and advancing very 
slowly. He hailed us with a Scanfiinavian bro gue, and we 
had some conversation, christening him the Dutchman, He 
was a person gifted with great tenacity and a way of en- 
gineering his old sloop through a creek that was amusing. 
He soon got his craft afloit, and then taking the bank on the 
best side of'the river, he and his crew with poles soon over- 
hauled us, and we were left behind. When we could get a 
le ading breeze we could beat the Dutchman, but when the 
breeze fell the Dutchman could beat us. Finally, however, 
we anchored side by side at dark, after a snail's lace lasting 
several hours. 
In the night at the turn of the tide the Dutchman weighed 
his anchor and went on his way, while we slept the sleep of 
contented hunters and remained where we were. At day- 
light we tried again and made Story River in good time, 
struggling with an adveise tide and a capricious wind. As 
we approached the suspected island an intense nervous ex- 
pectancy seemed to possess the ardent souls of the Surgeon 
and the Soldier. They smoked freely, filling their pipes fre- 
quently. They searched the sky, the water, the marshes. 
They marked the flight of every duck in sight, and at last 
they could stand the delay no longer. They tumbled into 
one of the boats and pulled vigorously up the river, in ent 
upon spying out the land. Soon they disappeared .among 
the maishes, leaving the Skipper to beat the Curlew slowly 
up the river, until the falling tide left her on a mud flat and 
there was no more to do. 
Then arose the thunder of the guns from the direction in 
which tbe gunners had disappeared, and the frrquent dis- 
charges seemed to indicate that they had found "meat." As 
the sun declined they returned with ducks galore and 
stupendous appetites. The tide floated the ship, and she was 
worked up to a convenient anchorage, and Elliot made us 
happy with one of his Delaxonico dinners. Suspended in 
the rigging, tbe ducks looked finely and made a brave show, 
and the Surgeon churk ed to know that his observation was 
corroborated by fi ding an ideal duck pond and ducks in it. 
Tobacco was balmy after dianer, and reminiscence anei 
anecdote were pleasing and inspiring. Solid sleep followed 
after, and all trouble vanished with the echoing resonance of 
the Soldier's snore, 
The next morning dawned gloomy and windy, with rain 
in the air. Nothing bette* could be imagined for ducks. 
After breakfast the party prepared for action. The Skipper 
encased his ponderous limbs in long rubber boots (built 
especially by Goodyear and launched on wayf). unfoldeti Lis 
enormous oil coat and "sou'wester," reached doA'n his old 
10 bore Parker "Destroyer," and anuounc d that he was 
ready. He wrfled into ihe boat with Jetry acd the party 
started. Fortunately the pond was not far from the lana- 
ing and soon all hands were in stands about it, with the gen- 
tle Jerry for retriever Soon the fa'led ducks b gan to 
come in, and for about four hours the shooting was as good 
as one could wish Imagine, if you can, a small pond, just 
large enough to shoot across, and to be covered in every part 
by three or four guns. Around this the lofty pines, through 
which half a gale of wind was whistling, while the under- 
brush came to the water's edge, making good shelter. The 
sky was lead-colored and threatening, while frequent 
showers drove slanting over and through the trees. A long 
drought had dried up many of the ponds, whtre tbe ducks 
were accustomed to go, hut this one had water in it. The 
three shooters were snugly placed on the weather side of the 
pond, and there you have ihe situation. If you, Mr. Editor, 
m your sanctum on the slippery side of Broadway can map 
out a more favorable chance, or combination of chances I 
would like to hear how you do it. It was a great day, and 
1 fear I shall not see another like it for some time. Later we 
visited the same pond on another cruise and found— but that 
is another story and must await its turn. 
Well, the ducks came in, "sometimes One in a flock and 
sometimes two single ones," as a man on Cape Cod once de- 
scribed it, but very few ducks that dropped in that pond 
that forenoon escaped alive It was fine. The Skipper's 
old Destroyer was clearly "in it" until the ammunition 
failed, and then the party returned, well loaded down with 
prey. The satisfaction with which the hunters absorbed 
lood and other comforts was heightened and intensified by 
the appearance of the rigging, where duclss hung "solid." 
Once, when the Skipper went down to the lower end of 
Paris Island after beach birds, he took a camp stool and 
Bennelt. a faithful adherent, along. Deliberately planting 
tbe seat on a prominent point, with Bennett lying on tho 
ground behind, and lighting the pipe of peace, he awaited prey, 
it came. Flock aft^r flock of small birds came whirling in, 
and shot after shot knocked them oat, until Bennett, tired 
anri panting from picking them up, remarked: "For de 
Lawd's sake, Cap'n, don't ahoot any more. You got anuff 
now." 
That was the way we felt after our great duck shoo*;; so 
the next morning we filled away for home, happy and con- 
tented, and arrived .safety, and seiveei out the "meat" among 
our fri nds. Yerily, "out of doors" is better than "in the 
house." C. H. RocjiWELL. 
IT. S. Navai- Station, Port Royal, S. C 
ON THE JAMES. 
The title of this article is suggested by the extremely in- 
tpre«lin2 comrauniratioa in the Foubst and Stream of 
March 13 by James Noiris, headed "On the Potomac " The 
James, in no less degree than the Potomac, from Newport 
News to Point-of-Fork, tf ems with historic interest, and de- 
serves to be styled, ( qually with the Potomac, a classic river 
of America. Born aud reared almost on its very banks, for 
the half ceituryof my existence.it has bsen the stream 
which has afforded me the greatest enjoyment when seeking 
recreation with rod and gun. But it is not with the inten- 
tion of giving my personal experience that I write, but to 
mention facts which are not generally known to your nad- 
ers, which 1 am sure cannot fail to interest refined and intel- 
bgent persons of the class to which it is evident that Mr. 
Norris belongs. 1 shall not rrf( r to great historical figures 
like George 'Washington or Robert Edwaid Lee, neither will 
I mention such well-known places as Jamestown or West- 
over; but I will confine myself to my own little county, 
Goochland, and mention only the people who have dwelt 
here; not that we airogate to her any superiority in this re- 
gard ovtr the other twenty odd cotinties which border on 
the James, but b^^cause I desire to tell soinething that is un- 
known to most of jour readers, and because if one little 
community, which is but a fair sample of the entire region 
referred to, can make such a showing, that of itself will go 
far toward sustaining the claim to distinction asserted on be- 
half of Ihe Jdmes. 
Goochland i^ a small county, with an area of about 300 
square mil. s, situate west of Richmond, and bounded on the 
south for forty mihs by the James. There are in the river 
numerous ii-lane!s, which make it a favorite resort in the 
winter season for geese and ducks; and its fertile lands and 
beautiful sceneiy liave ever made this portion of the valley of 
the James a favorite residential section for the wealthy and 
refined people- of Virginia. As anilJugtraticn of the beauty 
of the country naturally, I send you a sketch of Snowden, 
the seat of the late R'chard Selden, E?q , situated in the 
western part of the county, made by the Bon. Jobn S Wise 
and appearing in his fortlicoming book, entitled "Diomed." 
The very names of the families who formerly dwelt along 
this valley — viz. : the Pleasantses, Bateses, Randolphs, Sea- 
dons, Seldens, Stanards. Flemings, Carters, Skipwiths, 
Harrisons, Boilings and others— were the synonyms of social < 
elegance and refinement. In all the broad field of periodical 
literature of to-day thi re are no more brilliant writers than 
were two men raised here: John Hampden and Hugh Rose 
Pleasants The former was the darling of the old Whig 
parly of Virginia, and his early and tragic death— he was 
killed in a duel— created a profound sensation ovtr the 
State. 
Upon the eastern borders of Goochland, and on a hill 
above the river, is historic Tuckahoe, the seat of the Ran- 
dolphs, and the home of Thomas Maim Randolph, a gov- 
e- nor of Virginia; and near the old colonial dwelling bcmse 
is still to be seen the schoolhouse in which Thomas Jeffer- 
son went to school. In the same quaiter of the county 
James Pleasants, another governor of Virginia in the days 
of her wealth and prosperity, was born and raised ; and not 
far off there was bcrn Gen. Nathaniel Massie, one of the 
early pioneers and distinguished men of the State of Ken 
lucky. 
Higher up, and on the banks of the river, is Sabot Hill, the 
home of the late Jaraes A. Seddon, a distinguished lawyer,, 
a member of Congress of the United States, and a secre- 
tary of war of the Confederate States. ' Still higher up was 
the residence of Judge Sianard, one of the ablest and most 
learned judges who formeily graced the bench of Virginia's 
highest court, and whose lumioous e)pinions fill many a page 
of the published reports of the decisions of that court. And 
upon the same old plantation, on an eminence above the 
river, a solitary tree now marks the spot where the home of 
the Bateses once stood. Htre there wiis born and reared a 
man who became a lawyer, one of the most, distinguished of 
his day. There is now in Lafayette Park, St. Louis, a raon- 
unient dedicated to his memory. His name was Edward 
Bates. He was a distinguished judge, a governor of the 
State of Missouii, and attorney-general of the United States 
under the administration of Abraham Linc»ln. Thus in 
time of gre.it civil upheaval, when the country was divided 
between two great contending parlies, and when the services 
of the ablest and best intellects were called for in the coun- 
cils of state, this same little community furnished a cabinet 
otBcer to the Government of the Confederate States and a 
cabinet officer to the Government of the United States. 
Two miles west of Belmont, the seat of the Bateses, and 
in an old colonial house, a part of which is still standing, 
and which is still owned and inhabited by the descendants 
of the Englishman who settled on the place in 1685, there 
was born a youth who in early manhood went forth to 
the then far backwoods to make a home and fortune. He be 
came a citizen of the State of Mississippi, and there attbined 
to great eminence, holding many public positions; among 
others he was a senator in the Congress of the United States, 
and governor of Mississippi, and one of the counties in that 
State was named after him. His name was Walter Leake. 
S-ill further in the western part of the county an old 
Dutch roof mansion stanels to day, which was the residence 
of a distinguished physician. He was a poor boy who edu- 
cated himself so thoroughly that he became an accomplished 
classical scholar. In course of time he became the family 
physician and personal friend of Thomas Jefferson, and 
when that great man became the rector of the University of 
Virginia he had become so impressed with the abilities of his 
Iriend, the physician, that he twice tendered him the chair 
of medicine in that institution. The physician was Dr. 
Andrew Kean. 
When the late war broke out there dwelt in Goochland one 
whose mortal remains now rest in Hollywood, that lovely 
