JUHB 26, 1897.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
BOS 
Our fire was more effective. Missouri tumbled an Indian 
off his horse at the first shot and the pony went sailing 
up a coulee. An Indian on a white horse seemed to be 
paying particular attention to me and had fired three 
times at me before he was opposite my position. Although 
this fight was mostly of our own seeking, I felt it impera- 
tive to take the conceit out of this fellow, especially as I 
bad become pretty well warmed up and exasperated by 
my run to cover, therefore, I drew down on him as he 
plied whip and lay over on his pony's back, holding his 
shield of bull hide well to the front. He was going like a 
streak, and, although I held a little ahead of him, the 
bullet struck the pony just bade of the saddlecloth and he 
went careering on down tlSQ bottom to the edge of the 
willows. I felt real remorse that I had missed the Indian 
and shot this beautiful, spirited pony. 
While ten or fi^fteen of the Indians were dashing along 
the prairie, exchanging shots with us and drawing our fire, 
several had dismounted below and were entering the tim- 
ber. Two Indians had been shot in the fight, how badly 
we could not tell, but they had been assisted out of range; 
and, seeing the movement to our rear, I called to my com- 
panions to get into the timber. In wading across the little 
slough, which was half filled with mud and water, we lost 
our moccasins (all except Ed, who wore boots), and as we 
crawled through the willows to dry land and waited for 
the Indians to attack, M^e presented a sorry spectacle. 
Their shrill cries of encouragement to each other as they 
fired repeatedly in the direction we had taken seemed 
very close and we watched for something tangible to fire 
at in return, but they were too cautious to follow up their 
advantage in point of numbers. 
Take it all in all, it was the funniest skirmish I had ever 
been at. Not one of us had received a scratch, and it was 
over in about the time T have related it. 
When things had quieted down a little and we had be- 
come satisfied that we did not want to bunt Indians any 
more that day, no time was lost in making our way to the 
cabin. To do this we had to cross two or three openings 
that were thickly covered with a minute species of prickly 
pear that had been killed by fire. We were barefooted, of 
course, having lost our moccasins. 
As we wended our way in single file and finally ap- 
proached our cabin, we saw two coup sticks, ornamented 
with black feathers, sticking in the doorway. The war 
party had been there ahead of us and taken everything in 
sight. 
They had smashed a little lititcli oven we had and 
knocked a hole in an old gold pan that we used to mix 
dough in. Their pony and moccasin tracks were all about 
the cabin. All we saved was the cache where we kept our 
ammunition and tools, and Missouri's boat, which he had 
taken the precaution to sink under water. 
Luther Sage Kelly. 
HOLT'S WOODS. 
"This is the place; stand still my steed 
Let me review the scene, ^ 
And summon from the shadowy past 
The things that once have been." 
High up on the brow of one of the many hills which 
encircle a little "Vermont town lies an irregular patch of 
forest known as HoU's Woods. The sturdy old farmer has 
long since been gathered to his fathers, and some other mau 
now owns that bit of woodland; but Holt's name went with 
it, and will always remain as, a sort of perpetual lien on the 
property. There is another lien on this piece of woods, 
which I hold ; an intangible one, it is true, recorded in no 
town clerk's ofiSce, and not likely ever to trouble the owner 
of the land, but which, nevertheless, I would not part with 
cheaply. It consists of a stock of pleasant memories, and, 
unlike some other slocks, it pays large and regular divi 
dends. 
Holt's woods was my first hunting ground, and when I 
recall my feelings as 1 walked jjroudly home from it with a 
new $3 shotgun on my shoulder and carrying my first chip- 
munk by the tail, I can understand the- emotions of Caesar as 
he entered Rome at the head of his triumphal train after the 
conquest of half a world. And this victory was but the 
first of a series which followed. Red squirrels, gray squir- 
rels and flying squirrels; hawks, crows and owls ;"skunks 
and woodcliuclis; yellow-hammers, wild pigeons and par- 
tridges and finally a big red fox — all these fell before the 
destructive fire of that §3 gun. That this marvelous fire- 
arm finally burst in my hands without injuring me was 
looked upon by sooae good people as one of the inscrutable 
miscarriages of Divine Providence, and also as conclusive 
evidence that I was reserved for a more violent end. 
Bat in spite of this ominous foreboding, the shattered 
single barrel was replaced with a l6-sauffe double, muzzle- 
loader, and it sometimes wont off in Holt's woods when the 
school bells were ringing in the valley below. I am now 
prepared to admit thnt this was wrong, especially as I see 
cropping out in my own boy certain signs of similar law- 
lessness. BuL I do not count those days as wholly lost which 
were spent in that beautiful upland forest. 
Even then 1 had faint glimmerings that the time would 
come, as it has, when the hours of toil would be many, and 
the hours of recreation few. It was not altogether "blood- 
thirsty instincts that lured me to these woods. AU that was 
fair in nature seemed to be concentrated in them. Here the 
wild flowers were first to appear, adder's tongues, hepaticas, 
wake robins, blue violets and "Dutchman's breeches," many 
bunches of which were carried home as peace offerings, and 
seldom failed to accomplish their mission. 
Here were the great trees that had never felt the axe, 
whose rustling boughs made sweet, weird music, and whose 
falling leaves stirred strange, deep thoughts; lordly oaks and 
maples, and giant pines and. hemlocks, which somehow 
seemed made for better uses than to be sawed into mere lum- 
ber. 
Here was the paradise of the birds, the wild, beautiful birds, 
so seldom seen in this sparrow-ridden section of the country; 
indigo birds, rose-breasted grosbeaks, wood warblers and 
hermit thrushes, whose thrilliDg melody in the deep forest is 
as sweet a sound as ever fell on mortal ears. 
Here, too, were other woodland sounds, the tinkle of the 
cow bell, the drowsy hum of insects, the long, rythmical call 
of the yellow-hammer, and the muffled drum of the partridge 
in the thicket. Although so near to the town that the noise 
of trains and men and dogs could be faintly heard, here were 
the wild creatures whose presence adds an untold value to 
the woods; bushy-taUed squirrels in the tops of the tall hick- 
ories ; slim weasels making their noiseless way among the 
leaves and rocks; lumbering woodchucks speeding clumsily 
to their burrows; tiny wood-mice nlaying about the old 
stumps, and, occasionally, the sly red fox stealing cautiously 
along the wood roads. 
When to all these alluring sights and sounds were added 
the fragrance of the ferns and rip°ned leaves, the inviting 
forest paths, the beds of moss, the glimpses of changing 
clouds and distant mountains, what wonder that Holt's 
Woods should draw the hoy to itself, and in making him its 
confidant make him its lover as well ! Abthtje F. Rice. 
SHEEP AND SNOWSHOES.— II. 
A Winter Hunt on the Summit of the Rockies. 
The Outfit for the Mountains. 
As a certain amount of interest attaches to a winter trip 
of so severe a nature as that which lay before us, it may be 
well to mention in some detail the preparations which 
seemed needful to us. 
In the first place, as we had wagon transportation for a 
-part of the way, or up to our main camp, it was possible to 
take in a tent. We had a good specimen of the best tent 
on earth and the most practical all-weathers camp-house 
ever yet invented — the Indian lodge or tepee such as was 
once the home of all the Western plains Indians, and 
which has been practically copied by the United States 
Army in the model chosen for its service tents in the field. 
For the lodge as a camp-house I cannot say enough, but 
shall tell more about it later. 
This was to be a snowshoe trip, and, therefore, a very 
important part of the outfit was the snowshoe equipment. 
Here we had room for chojce, and proof of the fact that 
tastes differ. Rather, let us say that conditions differ. 
Each part of the country admires its own snowshoe and 
thinks all others wrong, whereas there is room for quite a 
reverse view from the other end of the question. The 
truth is, as any one must know, there cannot be any per- 
fect snowshoe, suitable for all countries, any more than 
there can be an all-around rifle or an all-around fishing 
rod. The cold, dry snow of Canada, which falls thin and 
light, is in no way similar to the heavy, soft, wet snow of 
the Rockies in the late winter. The thick woods of New 
Brunswick are very different from the sharp slopes and 
steep pitches of the big mountains. In one part of the 
country a close mesh and flat bow are best, whereas in 
another a wide mesh and very different bow will be much 
better. I can speak of the variety of shoes which we had 
with us, and can say that were I to be asked to outfit a 
party for a similar trip in the same country, I could save 
some trouble by throwing out some of the shoes we had 
and changing others in some small particulars. 
McChesney brought on three pairs of snowshoes, which 
be got in Montreal, Canada, in response to Schultz's ad- 
vice. McChesney had never done any shoeing before, 
and so took what the dealer gave him. The latter told 
him that "these were the same sort of shoes which -lulian 
Ralph and Frederick Remington used on their trip in 
Canada." If this be really true, the latter gentlemen 
must have been as new at the art as McChesney confessed 
himself for a very worthless shoe they were, flat and very 
wide, with a heel altogether too light and floppy, and a 
webbing thrown in with a pitchfork, of a cowhide that 
swelled and sagged fearfully at the least dampening. 
McChesney wore one of these pairs and Schultz another, 
and O-to-ko-mi, our Indian hunter (whom w^e shall pres- 
ently meet) fell heir to the third pair. 
I had along two pairs of shoes myself; one a fine pair of 
caribou webs, made in superb fashion by A. Pringle, of 
Stanley, New Brunswick, these being especially ordered 
for me a couple of years ago under supervision of Mr. 
Frank Risteen, of Fredericton, N. B., and warranted not 
to sag. This was really the best made pair of shoes in 
DIFFERENT SOETS OF SNOWSHOES. 
1. 2. 3. i. 
1. Alaska model. 2. Montreal shoe, flat. 3. New Brunswick trapper's 
shoe, flac bow. 4. Montana "bear's paw," used by mountain trappers. 
our outfit, nor do I think one will find so good a pair in 
any market. The bow is flat, and the webbing is very 
fine and tightly drawn. I have no doubt that in New 
Brunswick they are perfect. In the wet snow of the late 
winter, where the Ctunooks often soften the snow till it is 
half water, these shoes are too closely woven to be com- 
fortable. They carry a great weight of snow, which will 
not shake through the mesh. Billy Jackson corralled 
these New Brunswick webs. 
My other pair of snowshoes came to me in a peculiar 
way. I wanted a pair of moccasins for this trip, and I 
sent up to Metz & Schloerb, of Oshkosh, Wis., who make 
very good ones, and inclosed them a four-sheet picture of 
my foot with about nine pairs of stockings on. They sent 
me the moccasins, and also, somewhat to my surprise, sent 
me down a pah of snowshoes, telling me they wanted me 
to ' try these on the mountain trip and tell them how they 
performed. They told me that these shoes were made 
for them in Canada, but on a model given them by an 
old Alaska hunter, who said it was the best model for 
mountain use that he had ever seen. They further said 
that a number of trappers in Colorado had said these 
shoes were better than any model theylaad ever found. 
In appearance these shoes did not look like anything I 
had ever seen.' They were very long and slim, so long that 
they came up to my chin when the heels stood on the ground, 
yet only an even 1ft. wide in their widest place. The heel 
was very long and narrow, and the toe turned up very high 
and for a considerable way back toward the toe-bar from 
the tip. These weird looking shoes seemed impossible 
machines at first, but I found that they had theoretical 
features of excellence. The narrow tread should make 
aide hill work easier, and the long upturned toe should 
ride over all crust, and act as a brake going down a steep 
hill in deep, soft snow. In short, in actual practice I found 
these shoes the best I ever put on, and every man of our 
party who tried them was eager to fall heir to them. 
Needless to say no one got them, and I prize them now 
very much if only for historic reasons. Yet I have written 
Messrs. Metz & Schloerb on what seems to me a possible 
improvement for this Western mountain work. The mesh 
sent me was, in these shoes, just that of Canada^ tight and 
close. In the wet snow these shoes therefore carried 
weight all the time. I would have a pair made with fin. 
mesh at least if I were going this trip again. The proposi- 
tion is absolutely different from any known to Eastern 
snowshoe people, who never have tbe Chinook wind. But 
as to the model of these shoes, I would never have another 
now. They balance perfectly, never kick up in the least, 
and lie so nicely on the snow that one doesn't feel any 
weight. The shoe is so long it covers all sorts of ordinary- 
holes, and the curved toe always keeps the foot riding over 
the snow, and not digging into it. It is the best shoe for 
the mountains in the opinion of all the snowshoe folk I 
met on the trip. 
Later on we met another sort of snowshoe, the "bear- 
paw," home-made shoe used by the trappers of this 
country. This is a most incredible affair, and at first I . 
could not believe such a thing could be used as a snow- 
shoe. The shape is a rough oval, 14 by 22in. in size. The 
lacing is of all sorts of rawhide, and the holes in the mesh 
are at no place less than lin. by 2 or 3in. There are gaps 
in the lacing 4in. by 6in., and the whole is most crudely 
done, so that you "would not think such a shoe would 
carry any weight at all. Yet the pair of bear-paws now 
before me as I write carried a trapper fifty-five miles one 
day over these mountains and valleys. When I add that 
that same man nearly always snowshoes in rubber hip 
boots I have gone the limit of credence, and also touched 
the limit of personal tastes in outfits. With his bear-paws 
this man (Joe Kearney) gets up a mountain mighty well 
on the snow, hip boots and all. If I had to use such an 
outfit I could not go. Yet Kearney approved of my long 
shoes, and said they were the best things he ever saw. 
We States people who figure what is the right powder 
charge, and the right weight of lead, and the right sort of 
clothes, and the right sort of snowshoes — we are not 
really sportsmen. The real sportsman is the man who 
can wear any old clothes he happens to be able to afford, 
who is satisfied with any sort of gun that shoots hard, and 
who can go to a willow patch and a beef hide and make 
him a pair of snowshoes in an hour. That sort of man is 
mighty apt to know where the game is and how to get to 
it. The more I learn of camping and hunting tbe more 
absurd I think the bulk of our preparations for it. Beware 
the man with one blanket, one gun and a pair of willo?v 
snowshoes. 
In this I digress, but perhaps in an allied topic we shall 
fiind something of interest and be of distinct service to any 
one intending a mountain trip on the shoes. This is in 
the matter of snowshoe straps. Of course, all our snow- 
shoes came to us in the good old-fashioned way, with a 
bimdle of thongs tied to the frames, so that we might put 
on our own straps as best pleased us. All "store" snow- 
shoes come this way, and hence present a problem to any 
beginner, for everyone he meets will tell him of a different 
snowshoe tie, and the clerk who sells him the shoes will 
of course show him tbe one and only correct way of put- 
ting on a snowshoe. Indeed, nearly any of these different 
ways will do so long as the beginner stays on the store 
floor. When he gets out on the wet snow and on the 
steep hills, it is a different affair. 
In the first place, any snowshoe should have a perma- 
nent toe strap, separate from the heel strap. There is no 
tie made which will stay if it be made of one continuous 
thong acting as toe strap and heel strap also. That ia, it 
will perhaps do for the store floor, but not for the woods. 
The toe strap is something which changes with the hour 
of the day and the dampness of the snow, and it should 
be made adjustable, preferably with a buckle. The heel 
strap should also be adjustable, but the thong will do here, 
as it can be rolled back of the heel and so adjusted as it 
stretches or shrinks. Most thong ties run back double 
from the toe to the rear of the heel, one strand going back 
direct and one being crossed over the "instep. This 
arrangement £ have usually found all right, except 
that often the shoe gets frozen fuU of ice at the 
edge of the toe-hole, so that the straps will not 
render through their holes. To prevent this trouble I 
devised a tie of my own, which I thought wotdd be desir- 
able in the trying work of mountain-climbing. I fastened 
a lin. harness ring at the toe hole, one on each side of the 
foot. To one of these rings I attached a strip of cotton 
drilling, which makes a far better shoe-strap than any 
moosehide or caribou-hide thong. My toe straps I had 
already arranged so that I could take up any slack by 
means of a buckle, the toe strap being double, crossing over 
the toe and buckling on top in such a way that the shoe 
hung nicely on the toe. My moccasins had loops sewed at 
the back of the heel and on each side. In putting on the 
shoe I stepped into the toe strap, passed the stout drilling 
band through the side loop and heel loop of the moccasin, 
and then tied it as tight as I liked by a single slip-noose 
through the iron ring at the other side of the foot. This 
rig I found held the foot freely yet firmly, it being impos- 
sible to get the foot away from the tie, which could yet be 
freed at once by a single jerk. I further improved this tie 
by having a loop sewed across the toe of the moccasin, 
through which I passed an end of the toe strap. If I chose 
to fasten the moccasin thus to the shoe, and make it firmer 
by passing the strap through the heel loop also, I had an 
outfit which could not slip and which could be adjusted at 
once^and in the speediest fashion. I knew, however, that 
