4 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. I, 1S98. 
Penobscot grounds. The braves demanded that the chief's 
daughter should marry one of her father's tribe, and a 
savored one was finally chosen. 
lavored one was finally chosen; and the people gathered 
for the wedding feast on the shores of Lake Chesunkook. 
For four days while the marriage ceremony lasted 
there was much celebrating and feasting. On the even- 
ing of the fourth day the consummation was to come, but 
the proceedings were interrupted by a sound like that 
of a thousand horses' hoofs beating on a stony moun- 
tain trail. Nearer and nearer came the thunderous noise, 
when suddenly there bounded in the midst of the revel- 
ers a form of giant proportions. It was Pamola in the 
war dress of his tribe, his gaudy war bonnet falling 
gracefully over his shoulder and reaching nearly to the 
ground. Quick as a flash he snatched the bride-to-bc 
from the group of Indian women who surrounded her, 
and ere the Penobscot braves could recover from their 
astonishment the Dakota warrior had remounted his 
Avaiting charger and, like all Lochinvars of all legends, 
bore the girl away. 
But the Penobscots were not overawed by Pamola's 
brilliant dash, and they at once started in pursuit. They 
were astounded, however, to find that but a single war- 
rior had ridden to their camp, for the hoof beats of Pa- 
mola's steed had rolled thunderously down the valley 
until it sounded like a A'^ast number of warriors. 
The pursuit was hot, and so furiousl}'- did the Western 
warrior ride that the sparks from under his horses' 
hoofs blinded his pursuers. Pamola had started straight 
for the mountain, as if Katahdin had been chosen by 
him as a safe retreat from his enemies. 
When the Penobscots reached the foot of the mountain 
they were at once confused by the loss of the trail. Sud- 
denly they were assailed by an awful storm. Clouds en- 
veloped them, and they wandered about for days. The 
chiefs at length decided that Pamola was in league with 
the evil spirit. Or perhaps Pamola was himself the evil 
one. The latter thought unnerved them, and the pursuit 
was abandoned, and the Penobscot maiden was left to her 
lover, though her loSs was mourned by her people fur 
many winters. ■ 
Since then Pamola has reigned over the mountain, 
and the highest southern peak has borne his name. The 
daughter of the Penobscot chieftain was said to have been 
seen in the vicinity of the south basin in the attitude of 
deep mourning. The Indians, it is said, have believed 
that all manner of evil things happen to those who come 
to Katahdin, and defj^ the magi of the mountain. For 
many years the Indians of the Eastern tribes avoided the 
mountain and even the lake that bears the same name. 
When Fly Rod made the ascent of the mountain last 
summer she took Avith her Miss Josephine Francis, a 
full-blood Penobscot, and it was said that Miss Francis, 
who is the daughter of the famous guide of Debscon- 
eaque, Joe Francis, Avas the first Indian maiden to go 
on Katahdin. 
During the recital of the legend the Avind had blown 
shoAver after shower of sparks tOAvard (he lean-to, and 
Avas noAv coming in a steady gale from the south. Just 
as the story Avas finished our raconteur arose, and looking 
through the treetops at Pamola's tOAvering peak, wrapped 
in a mantle of snow and glistening in the moonlight, he 
said: "If the Avind holds fair from that quarter a while 
AA'^e shall hear some of Pamola's salutes before morn- 
ing." 
Scarcely had the Avords been uttered Avhen from the 
mountain top came a sound like. the crack of doom; the 
roar of mighty artillery, and then a frightful rumbling 
like that of thunder, crashed nearer and nearer until it 
seemed that the very earth trembled and recoiled from 
the coming shock; the crashing of mighty timbers, a 
splash like the bursting of a waterspout, the hissing and 
seething sound of boiling waters, and then silence — 
silence aAvful and oppressive. 
The faces of the women were drawn and pale; the three 
men to Avhom the forest is an open book sat silent and 
unmoved, gazing into the fire. Presentb^ the elder 
turned toward the inquiring faces and said: "That is 
the music of the mountain, Pamola's greeting." Then he 
added, with assumed Nestorian caution. "Never speak 
disrespectfully of a spook, especially when he has you 
hemmed in by a wall of water." 
The noise that had frightened us tenderfeet was but the 
displacement of some .great boulder near the top of the 
peak, which for some cause, presumably the Avarning in- 
fluence of the south Avind on the frozen earth, loosened 
its grasp and came tumbling down the steep declivity. 
Iiringing other large rocks down with irresistible force. 
Near the bottom of the basin the giant rock had torn 
tlirough the narrow strip of timber and plunged into the 
little lake near the base of the south peak. 
"And now, my modern children of Israel, let's go and 
see what manner of a Red Sea these boys are talking 
about," and taking a brand from the fire our entertainer 
held it aloft and we marched Indian file down the narrow 
trail to the lake; 
The torch shed a mellow light out on the limpid 
waters of Lake Mystery, and a murmur of surprise came 
from the little group on the shore. The Avater was stead- 
ily rising and the bar was already covered. Suddenly 
the torch was thrown with a whir. It hissed and sizzled 
in the cold water of the lake. We turned quicklv toward 
the mountain. It Avas our first clear view of Katahdin 
from close proximity, and the snoAV-clad crests, bathed 
in the cold white light of the full round moon, made a 
picture of indescribable grandeur. 
Katahdin, old as the earth, calm, cold, immutable. 
What enduring centuries had that froAvning Avall of gray 
stone towered there! What scenes had it Avitnessed! 
What of the days, century on century ago — ten, twenty 
thousand years perhaps — Avhen the crater Avas not as it is 
noAv; when the molten masses were spouted skyAvard, 
Avhen those great rocks had been throAvn upon the peaks, 
white with the heat of a million furnaces of that hell 
below. 
But Katahdin of to-night stood in solemn, frigid, aus- 
tere silence. With the awsome picture "indelibly en- 
graved in our memories, we slowly returned to camp. 
No one spoke; all were too much impressed with the 
nocturnal mysteries of the mountain. 
Several times during the night Ave Avere partially awak- 
ened by the rolling of great boulders doAvn the mountain 
side, but the thunder of their trail came to ears dead- 
ened by fatigue, and the sounds died away in slumber- 
ous echoes down the depths of the great, dark, silent 
valley below. 
Standing fire watch at Camp Crater in the heart of the 
mountain, surrounded by the primeval forest, and amid 
such magnificent scenery, was an experience that will 
not soon be effaced from memory. 
When the morning first streaked the eastern sky with 
a leaden gray, then burnished it into a bright gleam of 
beatcii copper, the snow-white mist rolled down the moun- 
tain side as the lazy foam recedes with the ebbing tide. 
The sun rose clear, and the day bid fair to be the bright 
one we had hoped for. Not a cloud hung over Katah- 
din's towering peak. It Avas the rarest day of the autumn 
month. A hasty breakfast was prepared, rifles were seen 
to, cartridge belts Avere filled, and preparations made for 
an early start, as there was a great day's work ahead. 
The ladies voted unanimously not to try the ascent that 
day, as they needed rest, and the prospect of a hard day s 
climb 'mid the snow and ice was too much for them. 
It Avas decided that Frank should stay at camp and 
straighten things out there during the morning, and he 
was to go doAvn the trail to the base of suppi.es for sev- 
eral things AVe had forgotten. This left the climbing 
party reduced to three: Mr. F. J. Tracy, his son Madison 
and the writer. 
Wc had seen such an abundance of signs of game since 
Ave left the Wissataquoik River that nothing Avas thought 
of it, but there was unmistakable evidence that a large 
moose had come within a fcAv yards of our camp during 
the night. The whole basin seemed to be full of game. 
A small sapling, Avhich I took to be "striped maple," 
near the camp had been stripped of its bark for 3ft. 
Madison said it was moose Avood, and that a. moose had 
barked the tree during the night. This was within 
150ft. of the camp-fire, Avhich burned brightly all night. 
Yet they tell us that Mr. Alee Americanus is shy, and 
will give camp-fires a Avide berth. 
We found "moose Avorks" in every patch of hard v/ood 
. in the basin. Hoping we might Avalk up on a moose 
■ before \ve reached the foot of the slide, we Avent silently 
up the little brook. In a feAv minutes we came into the 
Appalachian trail. The Appalachian Club camp at the 
basin lake has entirely disappeared. From the lake the 
south peaks looked gloomy and cold; the gray walls, 
towering, sheer thousands of feet, were impressive an(l 
grand. Nortli Peak, hoAVCA-er, was touched by the morn- 
ing sun, and the snow glistened and sparkled- with gloAV- 
ing brilliancy that was but a foretaste of the blinding 
glare to come Avhen Ave had reached the summit. 
About midAvay betAveen the extremities of the summit 
Avere three long "slides" that reached from the tableland 
down far into the timber on the mountain side. It Avas 
up one of these slides we intended to climb. After fol- 
lowing the trail through the Avoods a few hundred yards 
we turned abruptly to the right and came to a rocky 
run, which in the spring time and wet seasons is prob- 
ably the bed of a roaring mountain torrent. A hundred 
yards up this run Ave struck the first snow, the big rocks 
being covered Avith a thin coating of it, and this with the 
ice made the footing uncertain. Noav and then we came 
to pools of clear, limpid water, ice cold and sparkling. 
The recollection of a drink from one of the pools at least 
Avill be lasting. 
No attention Avas paid to the lapse of time and how 
long it took to reach the timber line or the tableland is 
not recorded. Just before the timber line Avas reached 
Ave again turned to the right, left the slide, Avent through 
the brush about 7Syd8. and came upon a new and much 
larger slide. Here the earth was of a brighter hue, and 
the general appearance of the rocks and trees on the 
edges of the barren track indicated that the avalanche 
had occurred in recent years. From the top of the moun- 
tain, reaching to a hidden point in the forest, Avas a wide 
swath. of desolation. 
The story was easy to read here. Some day in the 
early summer a fcAV years back, after the snow and ice 
had melted under the Avarming rays of tlie sun, a small 
mass of snoAV, ice and debris away up near the summit 
let go its grip and started to slide off the face of crea- 
tion. Then suddenly the mountain echoes had been 
awakened by the roaring, shrieking, grinding noise of 
an avalanche moA'ing down in irresistible fury, sAveepin.g 
all before it. Great rocks had been ground to powder. 
Trees of scrub growth and giant firs alike Avent to join 
in the onrushing mass of booming, liOAvling ruin. 
When it Avas all over and the .gray cloud of dust had 
floated off up the valley there was but a path of naked 
rocks and bare earth where the great boulders, moss- 
covered and venerable, and the shady undergroAvth had 
been. 
The track of the avalanche was a good stairM'ay noAv, 
and up over its rugged steps we clambered. Leaving 
the timber land far below, we toiled onward and upward, 
pausing noAv and then for breath, or to look to the right 
or left for better footing. A friendly rifle barrel thrust 
down now and then from above and a firm, steady pull 
helped over some diiScult places. 
Just before reaching the top Ave rested on a flat boulder 
and took a long look down Sandy Stream Valley. From 
no point can be had a better or more impressive vieAV of 
Pamola's peak, grim and gray, than from the slide. At 
the foot of the declevity nestled the forest of the basin, a 
half dozen little lakes looked like saucers of Avater in a 
bed of evergreen, and from near the center of the group 
came a thin blue line of smoke curling above the tree- 
tops at Dewdrop Inn. 
A placid sheet of turquoise still further down was the 
Katahdin Lake; then further over Avere the familiar peaks 
and ridges of lesser mountains. Away off in the distance 
were a dozen dots of white, huddled together in a pic- 
turesque group, Avhile to the south of them a tiny black 
object craAvled in sinuous curves ouAvard, sloAvly and 
silently like an insidious serpent on its prey. Watching 
intently through the glass, two vapor-like streams came 
from the head of thg crawling thing, and — voila! Those 
white dots are a city, and that snake is a railroad train. 
A Bangor & Aroostook train was rapidly approaching 
one of the liveliest cities in Penobscot county— Patten — 
thirty-five miles aA\^ay. But too much time was being 
lost there, and a scene of far more grandeur aAA^aited 
Avhen the summit should be reached. At the top of the 
slide a hard scramble placed us on the comparatively 
level surface of the tableland. About a mile of plateau 
separates the two high peaks of Katahdin. This space is 
about half a mile wide and is almost entirely covered 
with the low tangled growth of "pucker brush." 
Near the eastern side is the only trail that runs through 
this matted mass of limbs, trunks and roots. The trail 
is but a foot or two Avide, and through this pass of death 
must pass the caribou Avho is so unfortunate as to be 
found on the south peak of the mountain when the mer- 
ciless head hunter comes to Katahdin to kill what he can- 
not carry aAvay. And through it they will come, though 
death stares them in the face; they knoAV that the only 
road off the mountain is through the plateau trail, and 
they prefer running the gauntlet of rifles to a leap into 
the impregnable brush that in itself means hopeless en- 
tanglement and perhaps death there. 
Through the glass Ave scanned the surface of Sotith 
Peak. No living object was visible. There were no 
tracks in the snow, and there Avere no caribou over on 
South Peak. The only chance for caribou then was that 
possibly a herd might be feeding on the side of North 
Peak. Mr. Tracy started across the tableland toward the 
South Peak, while we worked around toward the North 
Peak, keeping a sharp lookout for the game we hoped to 
find. 
We had gone possibly half a mile, clambering over 
great snow-covered boulders. Sometimes the crust 
AA'^ould break and let us down knee deep, again a treach- 
erous skim of ice would give Avay beneath the foot and 
the crash that followed Avas not conducive to perfect still- 
hunting. It was just after one of these adventures that 
Mad gave a subdued, warning crj', and before I could 
arise and'extricate rifle from camera he had fired. 
Scrambling hastily around from behind a big boulder, 
I saw just disappearing over the broAv or the divide a 
magnificent bull caribou with a handsome pair of antlers. 
A hasty snap shot -sent a sliOAver of snow and ice about 
his head as he rounded a big rock and went down the 
incline. Madison got in a second shot, but with no bet- 
ter luck. It Avas an exciting moment, and one well 
worth the climb. Hurrying to the top of the ridge, we 
Availed to get a glimpse of the disappearing game. 
"They Avill come in sight right here," said Mad, point- 
ing to a clear space to the northwest. "There are five of 
them; three of them with horns, too. They will go off the 
mountain doAvn there where you see that point of AVOods." 
A few seconds later these three statements Avere veri- 
fied by the caribou. With the glass I could easily make 
out the antlers on three of them when they came in 
sight Avhere my friend and guide had indicated. They 
were making straight for the point of woods, and they 
were still running like mad, so far away as to be invis- 
ible to the naked eye. 
When the last one had disappeared in the woods over 
the side of the mountain, I said: "There they go; good 
luck to them; we never touched a hair." 
The Avoodsman looked inquiringlj^ at me, and it was 
evident he did not understand the sentiment. 
This ended the hunting for the day, and Ave Avere at 
leisure to enjoy the scenery, for the rest of the day was 
spent in roamin.g over the mountain top. And such 
scenery! From our snoAv-capped height we could see 
the whole "Sportsman's Paradise" at our feet. The day 
Avas still clear, not a cloud to mar the line of vision. 
Below us lay a colored map of rare beauty. Close to the 
base of Katahdin the deep rich .green of the forest 
merged off in the distance to lighter hues, which marked 
th? hardwood timber ridges and told of bright autumn 
leaves and good hunting grounds galore. The myriads 
of lakes nestling in the forest lay clear cut and blue in 
their dark settings of trees. The familiar lakes and 
streams stood out in such bold lines that no difliculty 
Avas made in finding and identifying them. From Alle- 
guash to Jo Mary, from Moosehead to Nicatous, Gosse- 
lin's Landing to Dacy Dam, the oU landmarks were all 
there. 
Large lakes like Chamberlain and Chesuncook were 
easily distinguished by their shape, but the smaller sheeits 
of water, such as Umbazooksis and Cauquomgormis, 
Mopang or Sabao, might easily be hidden by some 
mountain or hill, and be lost to view or merged into the 
collective topography of the panorama. 
Down in that quiet forest below, along the shores of 
the placid lake, or beside the roaring falls and quick 
Avaters of rivers, were the camp-fires of man}' sportsmen. 
We could not see the smokes of a hundred camps, but 
Ave kncAV they Avere there. The great silent forest below 
on all sides were filled with game, but that, too, Avas 
shut out from view. Moose, caribou and deer Avere 
there in bog, swamp and timber ridges. We kncAv that 
the bears, foxes and the sly Loup cervier were there by 
the .score. 
But forest, feke or river gave nq sign of life; over all 
hung a peaceful silence that Avas restful to the soul.. One 
could realize why men came here from the hurry and 
Avorry of the commercial Avorld for a period of rest be- 
side some camp-fire far from the busy hum of men. 
Before we knew it the sun had swung from south to 
Avest, and was casting a broad band of shimmering gold 
across Moosehead's loAver bay preparatory to a glorious 
departure after a glorious day. To the east of the moun- 
tain the sun had long set, and now it Avas almost dark in 
the deep valleys there. One more lingering look around 
and Ave kncAv we must hurry from the mountain ere 
darkness overtook us. 
The western sky was a broad band of crimson, blend- 
ing upAvard to a delicate pink and on into pale purple. 
Night was fast creeping over the mountain and by the 
time Ave reached the slide it was totally dark. 
The moon soon came out and shed her pale rays over 
the snow-covered furrow down which we were sliding, 
stumblin.g and rolling. Camera and rifle quarreled vio- 
lentljf herCj but bumps were unaA'^oidable. Pamola stood 
at our right, looking even more austere under the cold 
white rays of the hunter's moon than under the noon- 
day's sun. 
Half way down the slide before we reached the timber 
lines Madison leaned his rifle against a rock, and mak- 
ing a trumpet of his hands gave out the prolonged cry 
of the Avoodsman. Instantly the echo Avas thrown 
sharply back from the south peak, and then it came from 
the northern side loud, but soft and musical. The sound 
rolled down to the basin and through the valley to Dew- 
