204 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[$&f; io, 1898 
us to turn over for the natural fish food. Neither angle- 
worm nor grasshopper was obtainable At length, un- 
der a rotting aspen stump we found a nest of young 
harmless centipedes. These, on No, 12 hooks, with 
split-shot sinkers completed out outfit, and we again 
tried our luck. This time we had better success. Dan 
got the first bite, and it was a good one. In vain I 
tried to tell him how to handle his trout without a 
reel. He was determined to fling it out over his head. 
Of course the willow snapped. If the bait had not been 
swallowed, he would have lost his fish. As it was, he 
drew it in by the hand-over-hand process. While he 
was gone for a new pole I secured three that averaged 
^.Ib. each. It then occurred to us that a mess of trout 
would be a great treat for the boys at the mine. We 
fished until the shadows grew long, and then all biting 
stopped. We then had thirty-seven fish. Just at dusk, 
after the fish were cleaned, and while some of them were 
frying, I heard a few splashes in the lake. Hastily 
changing my cast for a dusty miller and white hackle, 
I landed two more, the largest of the day. The sight of 
a mink, when we commenced fishing', warned us that 
we must be wary, so we suspended our trophies in a 
sack a few feet from the ground. Footprints found the 
next morning showed that our precaution had not been 
in vain. 
With the break of day we were at the lake, but two 
hours of hard work brought us only enough for break- 
fast. While we were fishing a "cluck, cluck" revealed 
the presence of chickens, and Dan, being the better 
shot, ran for the gun. He added two broilers to our 
bag. They were the Western ruffed grouse (Bonasa), 
which is much scarcer than the dusky grouse (Den- 
dragapus). It was a difficult matter to transport our 
fish, but we managed it in this way: The smallest 
blanket was laid on the ground, and about 2ft. square 
was covered with dry grass. On this the trout were laid 
after having been dusted with salt. (They had been 
wiped dry, but not washed after cleaning the previous 
evening.) Then came another layer of grass; the blanket 
was wrapped tighter about them, and this was placed in 
the center of the roll of bedding. The fish were ap- 
parently as fresh that night as when they first came 
out of the water. 
From our camp we saw a low pass in the divide, and 
toward this we directed our uneventful way. We saw 
plenty of deer tracks and "kitty" tracks. Once a lynx 
leisurely crossed the trail 100yds. ahead. I tried to fetch 
him, but the bullet struck just below him, and he slunk 
out of sight behind the rocks. 
At noon we reached the summit. It was bare of 
vegetation. The wind cut us with a wintry fury, and in 
the deen canons on either side were banks of snow, upon 
which the August sun failed to make any impression. 
The view to the west was one long to be remembered. 
About us in wild confusion were piled the naked peaks, 
a deathly gray, save when their furrowed sides were a 
more deathly white. Below was the pineland; lower yet 
in varied agate the belts of cedar, of sage, of farms. 
Lowest of all, 5,000ft. beneath, stretched the desert, 
melting into mist at the sky line, and looking like the 
rolling billows of the mighty ocean. To the east was the 
narrow valley of the Sevier in its midsummer apparel, 
and beyond that, against the deep blue, the white walls 
of the East Fork range — the boundary of the plateau 
province. Almost at our feet we saw the familiar land- 
marks that would lead us to' the mine, and by a rapid 
descent we arrived at the shack before the boys had the 
dinner dishes washed. 
I wanted to return to Beaver by the same route, 
though our interests lay in another direction. Dan de- 
murred. He would not even hear of our going back 
to the lake for another night. I insisted that, as the 
heaviest owner in the Coyote Gold and Silver Mining 
Company, I should be obeyed. Finally Daniel consented 
that a game of cribbage should settle the dispute. He 
pegged out on me. In revenge I am going to ship him 
to another claim, and then — I won't do a thing but go 
back for trout, chickens and deer. 
Shoshone. 
The Last of the Delawares. 
In the valley of the Conemaugh continued to live an 
old Delaware Indian many years after his tribesmen had 
departed to happier hunting grounds further to the west. 
The name of this old Indian was Joe Wipey. He lived 
on a small stream, an affluent of the Conemaugh, at the 
eastern base of the Laurel Hill, and not far from the 
river. A few white settlers had encroached upon the 
ancient demesne of the red man in this region; but 
Wipey was an inoffensive fellow; like Logan, the great 
chief of the Mingoes, he was "the friend of the white 
man," and lived in peace with his neighbors. 
In the quiet and congenial employments of trapping 
and fishing, Wipey's days moved calmly along. He had 
given no offense, and had no reason to apprehend in- 
jury. But the trail of the serpent lay through the 
wilderness. The frontier difficulties known as Dun- 
more's War had been going on for some time, and as 
all wars do, it had furnished a field of operations for the 
bloodthirsty and the lawless. One day in May, 1774. 
poor old Wipey was in his canoe alone on the placid 
bosom of the Conemaugh. Izaak Walton himself was 
never less meditative of harm to any man or less sus- 
picious of harm to himself, as from the grass}' banks 
of the Dove he cast the seductive fly over the mirror- 
like expanse of water, than was this old aboriginal angler 
on this afternoon, as in the mighty shadow of the moun- 
tain he trolled the limpid waters of the Conemaugh. 
Milton tells us how Satan from his point of vantage 
viewed with eyes of hate the blissful scene of Paradise: 
"On the tree of life. 
The middle tree and highest there that grew. 
Sat like a cormorant * * * devising death 
To them who lived.'' 
Such were the baleful eyes with which two lawless 
rovers of the woods regarded the Indian at his peaceful 
task. 
This is somewhat "pictorial." In plain words, Capt. 
John Hinkston and James Cooper discovered Wipey 
fishing, as we have described him, and shot him as he 
sat in his canoe. The body either drifted or was taken 
to the shore and was buried slightly under a heap of 
stones beside a small stream. Some authorities say 
that this stream- was what is now called Laurel Run, on 
the right bank of the Conemaugh, about four miles be- 
low Johnstown; others that Wipey was killed and buried 
at the mouth of a tributary of the river a mile or two 
above. Anyhow a stream in the lower part of Johns- 
town, flowing into the Conemaugh, has been know from 
time immemorial as Hinkston's Run. It is probable 
that he was killed near the latter stream, and that his 
body floated down to the mouth of Laurel Run, where 
it was taken out and buried. This is the theory of my 
old friend, Hon. W. H. Rose, of Johnstown, who has 
investigated the matter, and it seems to fit in with all 
the known circumstances of the case. 
' This ruthless murder of Wipey caused great conster- 
nation among the peaceful savages along the border 
and a good deal of apprehension on the pari of the white 
settlers. Arthur St. Clair, afterward the distinguished 
Gen. St. Clair, then a leading official ot Westmoreland 
county, wrote the particulars of the affair to Gov. Rich- 
ard Penn, and a reward of £ too was offered for the 
arrest of the murderers. The bones of poor Wipey 
"were covered" from the sight of his outraged and in- 
dignant brethren by the method so effective in removing 
grievances even among the palefaces. Money is the 
balm for every wound. What became ot Cooper I do not 
know. Capt. Hinkston, however, figured in the border 
troubles long afterward, and a stream called Hinkston's 
Fork, in Kentucky, Dr. Lyman C. Draper informed me, 
was named for this same man. Gov. Penn. a few years 
later, was not in a position to make good his offered 
reward, and afterward Hinkston was figuring again in 
the Conemaugh Valley region, and in much the same 
character as before. Col. James Smith, who commanded 
a body of rangers in western Pennsylvania during the 
dark and bloody days of the Revolution, says that in the 
year 1778, on one occasion, Capt. John Hinkston came 
back from pursuing an Indian, "seemingly unconcerned, 
with a bloody scalp in his hand — he had pursued the 
Indian about a quarter of a mile, and tomahawked him." 
Mr. Rose says that Hinkston and Cooper were rene- 
gades, who tramped about the country subsisting princi- 
pally on game. They seem to have been of that class of 
hunters whose prey is chiefly men. But so passed the 
last of the Delawares from the valley of the Conemaugh. 
The man that could shoot this inoffensive old Indian 
angling from his boat in the shadow of Laurel Hill 
would have the heart, or rather the want of heart, to 
put a bullet into dear old Izaak, whom we take to be 
the white lily of simplicity, piety and human goodness, 
as he sought shelter from the passing shower under the 
sycamore tree or baited his hook on the bank of the 
Dove. T. J. Chapman. 
iNGfcAM, Pa. 
The Ascent of the Grand Teton. 
Cheyenne, Wyo., Aug. 24. — The ascent of the Grand 
Teton by a party of Wyoming mountaineers has just 
been announced, and their success is a source of pride 
and gratification to residents of two States. Of the five 
men who made the climb, four are residents of Wy- 
oming, and the fifth now lives in Pennsylvania, though 
formerly he resided in Colorado. Mr, Owen, the leader 
of the party, although an old resident of Wyoming, is 
a member of the Rocky Mountain Club, of Denver, and 
his achievement thus reflects credit on the adjoining 
State of Colorado. 
The Grand Teton is the highest peak of the Teton 
Range, which runs north and south not far from the 
Idaho-Wyoming line, and thus forms the divide between 
Snake River, flowing out of Jackson's Lake, and the 
waters which empty into Henry's Fork of Snake River. 
It is one of the most imposing ranges in the Rocky 
Mountain system, and its peaks tower far above any 
of their neighboring fellows, almost equaling in height 
the tallest mountains of Colorado or of the Northwest 
Coast. The northern and southern extremities of the 
range, though high, impress one rather by the grandeur 
of their massiveness, but the towering pinnacle of the 
Grand Teton shoots up in a real rock aiguille, which 
reminds one not a little of the finger of the Matterhorn. 
Seen from the east there is a long sloping saddle which 
runs up toward this peak, hitherto unsurmounted by 
man, and below that are many mountain points, among 
which more than one climber in the past has become be- 
wildered in his vain search for the actual summit of the 
mountain. 
Many earlier attempts have been made to climb the 
Grand Teton, but none were successful. In 1872 the claim 
was made that the top had been reached, but this has 
generally been regarded as unfounded. In later years 
Mr. W. H. Holmes, of the U. S. Geological Survey, 
was reported to have gotten up almost to the top, and 
then to have met a precipice which he could not climb. 
Mr. W. O. Owen, who has now achieved success, tried 
the mountain twice before without accomplishing his 
object. 
The party reached Market Lake, Idaho, Aug. 8, and 
thence drove to Jackson's Hole, where they took pack 
horses and traveled northward. Their camp of Aug. 10 
was pitched at timber line on the great mountain, and 
at that time there were present W, O. Owen. Rev. Frank 
Spalding, Frank S. Peterson, John Shive, Tom Cooper 
and Hugh McDermott. 
They started at 5 o'clock on the morning of the nth 
and made their way up the hill, frequently meeting rock 
wails that could not be surmounted, and being turned 
back by them. As they passed on higher and higher 
they crossed a glacier three-fourths of a mile across, 
and then passed on over snow fields and over a wide 
rock ledge to more snow fields. At the long saddle 
between the Middle and Grand Teton they rested, and 
then made their way across the saddle up a little chim- 
ney, and on to the north side of the mountain peak. It 
was nervous work, for some of the ledges along which 
they had to pass were so narrow that they were obliged 
to crawl on hands and knees or even on their breasts. 
One thing that happened must" have called into their 
throats the hearts of all the climbers. A great rock be- 
came dislodged from a point above them and fell dowm 
directly toward Shive. It bounced to one side, however. 
but passed near enough to him to touch the brim of his 
hat. Above this point they came to more ice, and then 
more snow, and finally, after passing over the rock 
fingers so noticeable from below, they reached the sum- 
mit at precisely 4 o'clock. They had been climbing for 
eleven hours. 
On the pinnacle of the mountain they planted the 
metal flag of the Rocky Mountain Club, and in a cop- 
per box, half-buried among the stone, inclosed the record 
of their achievements. Then after a short stay, fully oc- 
cupied in studying the wonderful panorama laid out 
beneath them, they began the descent. 
As is usually the case in mountain climbing, the de- 
scent was more difficult than the ascent, and the men 
found more use for their rope and their ice axes in going 
down than they had in climbing up. The four men 
who reached the top were Messrs. Owen, Spalding, 
Peterson and Shive. McDermott and Cooper did not 
go up all the way. The summit of the mountain was 
found by the aneroid barometer to be 13,800ft. above the 
sea level. Messrs. Owen and Spalding each carried a 
camera, and together secured about one hundred fine 
photographic negatives. 
Their time on the mountain top was so short on the 
nth that on the day following Messrs. Spalding, Peter- 
son and Shive made another ascent to finish the work 
of building the monument, and to complete the record of 
the climb. 
On his way out of the Jackson's Hole country Mr, 
Owen met T. M. Bannon, a surveyor and one of the 
topographers of the U. S. Geological Survey, whose 
work this summer has been in that country. He told Mr. 
Owen that a few days earlier he had seen sun flashes on 
the summit of the Grand Teton, and had imagined that 
some one was trying to signal to him by heliograph. 
On studying the mountain peak with his field glasses, he 
distinctly saw the monument which had just been erected 
by the Owen party. The flashes were undoubtedly from 
the metal flag which had been planted there. 
The credit for the successful accomplishment of this 
achievement belongs principally to Mr. Owen, who has 
several times before attempted the Grand Teton; but, as 
already stated, this accomplishment reflects as well on 
the Rocky Mountain Club, of Denver, of which he is 
a member. This organization was established no longer 
ago than 1896, for the purpose of exploring high and un- 
known mountains. It has a considerable membership , 
in Colorado, Wyoming and other Rockv Mountain 
States. Wyoming. 
Trie Witch-Like Rapids. 
That was a felicitous description of rapids Mr. Burn- 
ham gave in his Yukon notes of Aug. 27, when he 
wrote: 
"Of a sudden the damp, misty gap opens, and in 
place of the smooth surface a long vista of leaping, 
ghost-like masses of foam. These have the peculiarity 
of appearing and disappearing always in the same place. 
They do not advance like ocean waves, but at one par- 
ticular and unchangeable spot execute fantastic move- 
ments, witch-like, uncanny genuflexions, wavings of 
phantom arms, turning and beckoning, forever repeated 
in the same unvarying way." 
The Yellowstone Park Bears. 
Gardiner, Mont., Aug. 24.— Bears have been very 
troublesome in the Park; that is the grizzlies, for the 
blacks know how to behave themselves, and are willing 
to let well enough alone. The grizzlies have been kill- 
ing sheep and smashing in doors, jumping into high 
pens and helping themselves generally to what they 
have no right to. "Doc" was out with a party, and at 
one camp they stole a ham and some other things. 
The next night all hands slept around the "grub pile." 
At one time three bears were standing around waiting 
for a chance for supper. At Norris one bear was so 
very bad they ordered him shot; and Scout Burgess did 
the business for him. Scout Morrison went out to 
Kl amer's slaughter house to kill two very troublesome 
grizzlies. It is nothing unusual for bears to rob camps 
and even wagons with people sleeping in them. 
Capt. Erwin is making a large enclosure in front of 
the Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel and Fort Yellow- 
stone, for the elk left here by the National Zoo. He 
intends to have other animals kept here for visitors. 
As '-it is now, nine-tenths of the people visiting the 
Park see no game except chipmunks and bears. 
E. Hofer. 
Chicago, Aug. 27— Mr. Harry Hoffman Valentine, 
of Poughkeepsie, N. Y., is taking an extended trip with 
his wife over parts of the Western country, and this 
week came into the Forest and Stream office to in- 
quire about some muscallunge fishing up in Wisconsin, 
to which I hope he received proper directions. He 
goes in at Manitowish, in charge of Fay Buck, and I 
think will have sport. 
It was Mr. Valentine who told me a rather curious 
story about the bears of the Yellowstone Park, from 
which region Mr. and Mrs. Valentine have just re- 
turned, having fished and traveled over a good part of 
that wonderland in the brief time at their disposal. At 
the Fountain Hotel, where they stopped over night, 
there was the usual spectacle of wild bears coming 
about the hotel in the evening in search of food at the 
offal heaps. There were six or more of the bears 
visible during one evening, though no one living at 
the hotel paid much attention to them. There was one 
young lady at the hotel who was in search of experience, 
and she persuaded the driver of one of the garbage 
wagons to allow her to ride out with him to the place 
where the garbage kegs were emptied — this being the 
place where the bears were sure to be approached most 
closely. Sure enough, the bears were there, among 
them several silver tips. One good sized black bear 
