May 21, 1898.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
403 
capable of accounting for big game, and if a black- 
powder gun is selected the owner should take along re- 
loading tools — "machines," as the Indians call them. 
Powder and lead may be procured at any trading post, 
though it is just as well to realize that these are long 
distances apart. Have Avaterproof covers for the guns, 
and I would also suggest a sling for the rifle. 
A pistol or revolver with 6tn. barrel and good, strong 
sights is a very handy thing to have for picking up stray 
grouse. 
Some Aveapon for self-protection is an absolute essen- 
tial. _ Men as a rule are obliged to administer their own 
justice in that country. 
On the approach of winter the mechanism of guns 
and revolvers should be taken apart and carefully wiped, 
so that no particle of oil remains. Otherwise the guns 
will clog or "freeze up" when cold weather comes. It 
is not advisable to use reloaded ammunition in nickel 
steel barrels, or to reload smokeless ammunition. The 
small caliber, smokeless powder guns with factory 
ammunition are perfectly satisfactory in the Yukon, de- 
spite reports to the contrary. I shot seven red squirrels 
one day with a .30-30 Winchester, at a time when the 
thermometer was 50 below zero. The gun worked per- 
fectly and was accurate, and if there was any loss of 
velocity it was trifling and of no consequence. 
For fishing tackle I would suggest a few trout flics, 
.■assorted hooks, large pickerel spoons, and suitable lines. 
-A fish .spear may also be included. A 40ft. net may be 
;of great service if you happen to camp on a lake. 
Throughout the fall and winter quantities of whitefish 
;may be taken in such nets. 
Medicines and Miscellaneous. 
The family physician should of course be consulted 
'regarding the contents of the medicine chest. First of 
-all, the supply should be adapted for your particular re- 
' quit^'nents. In nine cases out of ten the simplest reme- 
"dies be the only ones used. In the Yukon pain- 
%flfer heads the list. Salve, whiskj^ quinine, and surgical 
^stitliing plaster, are all old stand-bys. 
Flexiderma, a preparation intended to take the place 
'of sticking plaster, and somewhat resembling bicycle 
cement, is good for rough and ready doctoring, and so 
are porous plasters and salvacea. Chlorodyne, which is an 
English preparation compounded of morphine and chlor- 
oform, is wonderfully efficacious for diarrhoea— one of 
the commonest diseases of the trail. Laxatives are not 
required. A little citric acid for an occasional refreshing- 
drink is good. Nessmuk's mosquito prescriptioti— pine 
tar, castor oil and pennyroyal— is invaluable. Antiseptic 
solutions and cotton are good. 
Note paper, Canadian and United States postage 
stamps, a diary and a dozen lead pencils will all be re- 
quired at some time or other. Also, for use in a pros- 
pective cabin, it is well to take some window glass, or 
photographic film, which is lighter and answers the 
■same purpose. A candle lantern Avitli extra chimneys 
is very serviceable for camp use. 
The maps published by the Geological Department of 
the Canadian Government at Ottawa, and the United 
States Coast and Geodetic Survey at Washington, are 
invaluable. 
Dawson's map of the head-w^aters of the Yukon above 
the juncture of the Pelly and Lewis, which may be 
procured for a nominal price from the Canadian Gov- 
ernment, is the best for practical use. Our Geological 
Survey has very recently published an interesting map 
based on the June, iSgy, chart of the Coast and Geo- 
detic Survey, showing the gold and coal fields of Alaska 
and the Yukon district, which is well worth having. 
Finally, as a last hint, and perhaps the most important 
'of all, learn how to cook. A few practical lessons from 
a skillful cook and a simple cook book taken along will 
go a long way toward lightening the hardships of a so- 
journ in the wilderness. 
Even Job was afflicted with nothing worse than some 
of the cooking seen in the Yukon last winter. 
J. B. BUENHAM, 
Just About a Boy.-XIL 
The second morning of our river trip found a lazy 
•pair of voyagers, I am afraid, for the sm was up and 
sending long, level beams of light in among the restless 
maple leaves overhead before we opened our eyes and 
looked out of the tent. 
A great maple had been bent down by the ice or snow 
when It was a sapling, and had grown into a great hump- 
backed tree that described half a circle in front of camp 
Two squirrels were playing on this freak of timber 
that bright morning, racing up and down, bounding 
from linib to limb, chasing each other found and round 
the trunk with a reckless disregard for the laws of gravi- 
tation and the safety of their own necks, such as squir- 
rels only are capable of exhibiting. 
I watched them with keen interest as they went 
through their antics, and I must say that I saw more of 
the animal instinct for fun that morning than I ever 
saw before. 
^'Hain't they cute little fellers?" whispered the boy 
who had also been aroused by the clatter of the squir- 
rels, and was peering over my shoulder. 
"Seems like it's wicked to shoot such things don't it?" 
he continued. "Gee! I thought that 'n' 'd sure fall that 
time! Funny how they c'n ketch onto a little twig 'ith 
^."^ foot that way 'n' not fall clean down t' th' ground 
am t It? 
Something frightened our performers, and with a final 
skurry and wave of plumes they vanished into the up- 
per limbs of a nearby cottonwood, and the woods re- 
sumed their wonted quiet, with onlv the bird voices 
to mingle with the rustling whisper of the leaves 
• Less git up an' git a hike on us," said the youthful 
savage by my side, as he kicked the blankets flying and 
came to his feet with a bound— the spontaneous elas- 
ticity of youth coupled with a perfect condition of men- 
tal and bodily health. You know, that is as much a 
•part of a growing boy as his hands or his freckles 
"Why should one grow old?" I mused. "Why not 
always remain as healthy, happy, vigorous and youthful 
as that boy? Yet I knew that the time would come 
when that supple frame, now so buoyant, would be stiff 
and bent, and then this day that we were living would 
be only the ghost of a mind, something to dream about 
in the warm sun, and that the old man with the bent 
body and weak eyes would look back — look at himself 
as he appeared to me to-day — and perhaps sigh and wish 
the old days back again. 
"Say, what's matter 'ith you 's mornin'? Gittin' lazy 
er homesick a'ready?" asked the boy, with a merry 
laugh, as he saw me still reclining on the blajtikets 
and looking intently into a spot of sunshine on the 
ground. 
He was busy with a fish just oat of the water, while 
1 dressed and began packing the bfattkets out to a 
sunny place. 
"Say, here, you watch this fish 'n' these taters, sost 
they don't burn. I'm a-goin' t' th' spring 'n' git some 
water fer coffee. Don't yeh burn that fish 'n' spoil it 
now, tinkcrin' round a-lookin' 't squirrels 'n' things — 
won't git no breakfust if yeh do!" And away he went, 
swinging the black coffee pot and whistling merrily. 
When he came back his face wore a look of serious- 
ness and apprehension. 
"Say! smell the grass smoke in th' air? I bleeve 
they's a big fire somer down th' river. Been purty dry, 
'n' grass 's mostly dead now, sost it'd burn gickaloodin 
if it got started. 
"Wind's 'n th' south, 'n' comin' up 'ith th' sun, 'n' 
I bet sompin 's a-burnin' down ahead of us." 
"Well, what if it is? We are on the river, and the 
fire couldn't do us any harm even if there is one," I 
answered. 
"Dunno 'bout that," he replied. "I seen fires round 
here 'at ud jump clean crost th' river. 
"Give 'cm a good haff a gale o' wind, 'n' th' fiver 
don't 'mount t' much towords stoppin' em. 
"Nen it gits s' hot 'at yeh can't stay nowheres, 'n' 
smoke's s' thick yeh can't breathe hardly. 
"I seen s* many o' these big fires 'at I dOn*t like 'em, 
'n' they alius make me nervous some." 
"Oh, I guess we're all safe enough, even if a big one 
comes along," I answered. 
"Well, now, I tell yeh," said the youngster, with a 
sjliff in the air. 'Tt's on'y 'bout three mile fr'm here t' 
tron Mountain, 'n' that's a mighty good place to git 
away fr'm fire if one Comes 'long. Less pack up 'n' go 
down there, hen climb up 'n* look round 'ith th' glass. 
"If they's a fire 'ithin twenty er thirty mile o' here wc 
c'n see it fr'm th' ole mountain all right. 
"They's a lot of limestone gulches down there whete 
little creeks comes tumblin' int' th', river, 'n' 1 reckon 
a feller c'd git away fr'm fire there if he coitld any- 
where." 
"Very well," I answered, "we can stop there as well 
as not, and see how things look, anyway." 
"Less move, then, 'cause you nodiss this smoke's git- 
tin' thicker every minit. I don't like it a heap, I tell 
you that." 
The boy had lived in this country all his life, and I 
thought he might know more about prairie fires than I 
did, and besides the smoke; was thickening rapidly, and 
the wind was rising, so that the whole situation did not 
look encouraging, to say the least. 
We hurriedly stowed our camp o'utfit into the canoes, 
ate breakfast, and started down the river right toward 
the fire, and put our muscle on the paddles with such 
good effect that we were soon at the foot of the "moun- 
tain." 
Here we ran ashore and climbed up the three or four 
hundred feet of nearly perpendicular bluff to the top. 
We did not need the glass, for all too clearly we could 
see the red line of flame leaping high in the air to the 
south of us. 
The smoke seemed to be going away above our heads, 
and what we had to contend with seemed more to be 
that drawn back toward the fire by the eddy in the 
wind current, which now had apparently changed and 
was blowing toward the fire. 
Five minutes' watching convinced us that we had no 
time to l&Se in hunting shelter. 
"Say, now, we'd better git to the gulches on th' north 
side b* th' hiountain, 'cause th' fire won't burn haff as 
strong down th' hill as it will comin' up on th' south 
side, 'n' 'sides that, they won't be sech a strong wind to 
push it. I know a good place where we c'n pull th' 
canoes over a little bar 'n' git into a purty big, long 
stretch o' still water in a crick runnin' in fr'm th' west. 
They's a high bluff o' rock on the south side, *n' th' 
fire c'n come right to th' top o' th' bliifif *n' not hurt us 
much. They's kind o' short gfass 'long there too, 'n' 
some timber, so it won't burn so fast there anyhow. 
Liable to be a lot o' smoke though, 'n' we'll haff to look 
out fer that too. C'mon, less git a hustle on us." 
Down the hill we went, helter skelter for the canoes, 
and jumping in, paddled swiftly to the creek the boy 
spoke of. about an eighth of a mile back up the river. 
Landing, we quickly unloaded and carried the canoes 
over a riffle for about Soyds., and launched them in the 
back water of the creek, where we reloaded them again, 
and then carefully picked a path through the shallow 
water until they were safe and snug under the high 
rock bluff that formed the south bank. 
A safer place to escape could hardly be found in the 
country, and to the boy's quick judgment and intimate 
knowledge we owe our lives, probably, to-day. 
"Say, I'm goin' to th' top o' th' bluff- 'n' see how 
things is," said the boy when we had everything safely 
fixed, and up he went, climbing the straight sides of the 
bluff by clinging to the few bushes and points of rock 
that offered a foothold. 
Reaching the top, he stood for a moment or two look- 
ing at the smoke cloud, and then, turning, shouted: 
"C'mon up, 'n' fetch th' rope 'n' some matches. It's 
only juss started down fr'm th' top o' th' mountain, 'n' 
we c'n backfire, if we hurry up, 'n' fool th' fire sure. 
Come a-runnin', cos we hain't got no time to swap jack 
knives." 
I climbed up the bluff too, then, carrying the coil of 
half-inch rope — about 6oft. of it that we used in hand- 
ling the canoes in rocky riffles sometimes. 
The boy took the line and doubled it around a small 
jack oak that grew on the brink of the bluff, letting 
hoth ends hang down. "Now we got a quick way to 
git down if we haff to run," he said. 
■"XI'mon, less start a backfire now," he continued, as 
he gathered up a great bunch of dry grasR and leaves, 
and twisted them into a torch shape. 
"We got to hurry, she's a-corain'!" he said, as he ran 
toward the coming fire. 
A hundred yards from the creek bank he stopped, 
lighted his torch and ran parallel with the creek, drag- 
ging the burning mass along the top of the grass. 
Immediately tiny flames leapt up and began growing; 
spreading to the north and south. 
When his torch was burned out the boy dropped the 
remains of it and came bounding down toward the 
creek like a scared rabbit. 
"Slide down!" he shouted, and down I went. 
A moment afterward he scrambled over the edge of 
the bluff and slid down the double rope too; then catch- 
ing one end he pulled the line down and coiled it up. 
"Guess it can't bother us now. Yeh see that fire 'at 
I set '11 burn up to the top of the bluff here 'fore th' big 
fire gits this far, nen it burns toowords the big fire 
too, 'n' when they meet they '11 both go out, 'n' there you 
are." 
Even as he spoke little wisps of burning grass e^TOe 
tumbling down from above and we were kept busy 
watching the canoes and their contents. 
In about ten minutes there was nothing but a black- 
ened smoking stretch of country to the south and the 
big fire had swept by, "jumping" the creek and going 
on north like an express train. 
We were safe, but pretty well choked with the pungent 
smoke and our eyes were red and swollen to a painful 
degree. 
"It's all right now, let's git back to th' river 'n' g'won 
down," said the boy. 
Soon we were afloat and hurrying down to the south 
with the current. 
On both sides there was nothing but the black, smok- 
ing world; no life anywhere in sight. The river was 
more or less covered with charred embers of wood and 
the debris of the fire too. 
On reaching the first little town down stream, we 
learned that the fire had followed the river for a number 
of miles, and so concluded to give up our voyage, as 
there would be no pleasure in floating .so far through 
such a desolate country. 
That evening we loaded the canoes in the baggage 
car and went back home on the train. 
The fire had burned to- the river south of town, and 
there a combination of riA^er. fields and small creeks, 
coupled with a change of wind, had stopped its rush 
and it died a natural death. El Comancho. 
Random Shots. 
Once more summer is upon us and the chains that 
bind to business gall as at no other season of the year. 
It is yet a full month to the open season for trout, but 
my tackle is overhatfled, the fly-book has been replen- 
ished, leaders tested, rods rewrapped and everything is 
in order for a month's campaign on Strawberry, the 
Duchesne and the Uinta Reservation — a long, long dis- 
tance from civilization. It seems to mc that under our 
present laws, enforced as they are, trout and bass are 
multiplying rapidly; deer and ducks hold their own, but 
grouse are decreasing very rapidly. This may be due 
to extreme cold, to the encroaching of ranches upon 
their breeding grounds or to the violation of law by 
herders. 
The past year saw the organization of a Utah Fish and 
Game Association. It organized; that was all. Owing 
to the fact that it is controlled almost, entirely by Salt 
Lake sportsmen the shooting and fishing fraternities of 
the "cow counties" in which. most of the game is found 
are unwilling to afliliate. just after the organization 
of the association one of its most prominent members 
was arrested and fined for the violation of the duck law. 
The close of the duck season on Feb. r, instead of April 
I, as heretofore, has resulted splendidly, and never have 
ducks been more plentiful than this spring. There have 
also been more geese than usual, with quite a large 
quota of jacksnipe. I have not heard of any arrests in 
Utah county for the violation of the duck law, but 
Commissioner Newell has had his hands full in protect- 
ing the trout. Last fall some power plant people built 
a dam in Provo Canon across the river some eight 
miles above its mouth. They put in a fish ladder, but 
it was too small, and at too great an angle for the lake 
trout, as they were running up to spawn. As a result 
the pool below the dam has been full of beauties run- 
ning from I to Bibs, in weight. At every moment of the 
day they can be seen trying to scale the dam, but up 
to date they have been unsuccessful. Mauy have been 
caught with a spoon. One lad came to my house with 
a trout for sale some two Aveeks ago. I have since 
learned that he makes a business of illegally catching. 
The next Friday he was arrested and fined $8. Not 
having the "stuff," he spent eight days in the county 
jail, from which he was discharged on Saturday after- 
noon of last week. The next morning (Sunday) he was 
at my house before breakfast with another trout, for 
sale. 
One of the most amusing arrests was that of a woman 
who was business in every sense of the word. She was 
allowed to go on her own recognizance. When she 
appeared for trial she demanded a jury of women, who 
promptl}^ acquitted her on the ground that she had a per- 
fect right to fish on her own property. Stich was not 
the happy lot of a brace of American Fork poachers. 
Commissioner Newell from his lookout saw a couple 
of men put out from American Fork in a rowboat. 
After going about eight miles they anchored and from 
their actions Newell concluded that thej' were spearing 
something besides carp. When they started on the re- 
turn trip he hitched up his cart and reached American 
Fork before them. He sauntered leisurely down to the 
lake, and when they arrived he was repairing an imag- 
inary break in the telephone line. Naturally he walked 
back to town with them. When they were about to 
leave him he. asked what Avas in the sack. They told 
him carp and suckers, whereupon he revealed his identi- 
ty. Gross result: 361bs. of -black bass confiscated and 
sold, and $40 cash turned into the treasury of Utah 
county. 
Speaking of bass reminds me that our bass (the big- 
