g 
EPT. 17, T 
898.I 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
22 3 
furious. As the trail was straight and open, and the 
odor strong, no doubt a feeling of confidence animated 
them to extra exertion; and they rushed across the field 
like a tornado, crossed the log bridge, and continued 
their wild rush, each hound tonguing its musical notes 
of anticipated conquest. Upon arriving at the point 
where the fox had doubled, the music ceased; silence 
superseded exultation. Th^ walked around in very 
direction, eagerly scenting every inch of ground until 
they ascertained the true condition. Then, while rush- 
back over the trail, they made the welkin ring with 
savage yells — only to be doomed to disappointment 
again. Upon reaching the end of the double trail (where 
the fox had leaped from the log) they quickly discovered 
that they had been foiled again. Although w T orn down 
by unusual exertions to capture the most wily antag- 
onist they had 'ever attempted to conquer, yet un- 
daunted they spread themselves over the ground as a 
cordon of advance guards, examining the country to 
prevent a surprise. The fox had been careful to leave 
no scent on his trail when turning the flank of his pur- 
suers; therefore he pursued his way in the edge of the 
water along the shore of the creek, until reaching a 
point directly opposite his stronghold — the pine thicket. 
To gain access thereto he was compelled to cross a strip 
of dry ground. It was here after long search that the 
hounds found the clue to the lost trail. 
When the music from the hounds announced to the 
huntsmen that they had recovered the lost trail, they 
concluded to end the hunt, for the day was nearly spent, 
the hounds were tired, and they had enjoyed all the 
pleasant incidents of an exciting chase, and had witnessed 
the crafty stratagem of the fox and also the sagacious 
movements of the hounds to overcome his cunning; 
and inasmuch as reynard was the principal factor in 
contributing to the pleasures of the hunt it would de- 
tract rather than add to the enjoyment to harass or 
pursue him further, and perhaps witness the bleeding 
trophies, his mask and brush torn from his prostrate 
body, while the merciless hounds are snarling over his 
trembling form, callous and deaf to his imploring eye 
and dying moans for mercy. 
Then the bugle's echoing sound 
Called from the chase the weary hound. 
James Norrts. 
Cecil County, Maryland. 
An Adirondack Night Experience. 
"Going to the woods, are you?" said George, as he 
hitched himself into a still easier position in the most 
comfortable chair my den afforded, and eyed me curi- 
ously. "I once had a little experience myself that it 
might be well to tell about. My wish is that no fools 
shall rush in, entirely unwarned, where angels fear to 
tread, and whenever any one, particularly an old chum 
like you, is all at once afflicted with an insatiable long- 
ing for a lodge in some more or less vast wilderness, a-t 
fifteen dollars or so weekly; when a good fellow, let 
me reiterate, manifests a gnawing desire to sneak away 
on the morning train to regions far from the haunts of 
men and good living, vast contiguities of shade infested 
by the friendly and ubiquitous mosquito whose bite 
ceaseth not, there's an old, well worn and favorite yarn 
of mine I want to spin for this would-be pilgrim to 
the shrine of nature. 
•Tn the first place, long before you are ready to 
start comes the bother of getting everything together. 
How well I remember the bustle of preparation for that 
first trip of mine. Like yourself, I was in the tenderfoot 
stage, and determined to forget nothing essential to a 
camper's happiness and well being. Check-lists sup- 
posed to enumerate the requirements of an outfit were 
studied with an earnestness worthy of a better cause, but 
these same check-lists, let me say, are not much help to 
any one. If a fellow reads them and hews to the line, 
let the chips fall where they may, he will carry almost 
everything, from the Book of Common Prayer to a 
cross-cut saw, and quite probably leave behind some- 
thing that would prove handy enough later. In fact, all 
this matter of preparation is often to the inexperienced 
only perplexing weariness and vexation, a fitting prelude 
for tiresome jaunts over difficult and patience-trying 
trails. . . 
"We got started at last; in high spirits, of course, con- 
scious of a pleasing sense of joyful anticipation, and 
dissatisfied only with the law which forbade our bagging 
more than four deer between us. I might add, however, 
parenthetically, that we returned without having in- 
curred the severity of this statute, or injuring the 
Adirondack game. 
"The prosaic train ride was quite too civilized to in- 
terest Nimrods like ourselves, but our buckboard which 
met us at the station proved more befitting. Anything 
less steep and rocky than Washington or Bunker Hill 
monument is considered an excellent wagon road in the 
region we were penetrating, and it proved an exciting 
drive, made more so if possible by the gentle and joyous 
reminiscences of wrecks and smash-ups which bubbled 
as it were spontaneously from our charioteer whenever 
a particularly dangerous place was passed. 
"It was almost a relief, and certainly an agreeable 
change, to leave the horses and stagger off along an old 
disused wood trail, bending atlas-like under our now 
much condensed, but as we found to our sorrow, pon- 
derously heavy baggage, which was packed in baskets 
and carried upon our backs. True, as the miles were left 
behind, the novelty of this mode of travel wore away to 
a large extent; along with the skin on our shoulders un- 
der pack straps; but we were not in constant dread of 
being suddenly overturned into a miry slough of des- 
pond, of rolled violently down some steep place on to 
inhospitable stones. 
"Camp was reached finally, after infinite labor and sor- 
row, and we found it pretty enough almost to be worth 
the trouble. Our little cabin, a small log structure, was 
built on the bank of a rapid and very winding stream. 
The place in its wild simplicity was attractive, and the 
thickly clustered evergreens which grew close down to 
the water's edge were only rivaled in grace and beauty 
by their images in the water. With the assistance of our 
guide, we soon had a good fire blazing and everything 
made as comfortable as in the nature of things they 
could be. After supper, consisting principally of broiled 
venison, we talked over the plan of action. The venison, 
by the way, to which we were introduced for the first 
time on this occasion, after repeated soul-harrowing 
and stomach turning boilings, was made to do duty three 
meals a day for a whole week, but ignorance was bliss, 
and no grewsome presentiments of our guide's economy 
disturbed the pleasure of that first night around the 
fire. 
"Hounding and hunting from a boat at night, with 
a bright light or 'jack' carried in the bow, were legally 
forbidden, and we were therefore forced to depend largely 
upon still-hunting. What an attractive term, this 'still- 
hunting.' Does it not in itself suggest the unerring 
rifle of Leatherstocking, or the intuitively perfect wood- 
craft of the Mohican? We tried it and found no diffi- 
culty except that we saw no game, and could not keep 
still. Our best and most painstaking efforts in this 
direction produced sounds, unworthy perhaps of a steam 
shovel in full blast, but more than might reasonably be 
expected of some wandering cow, but we always fright- 
ened off everything except the hedgehogs, which un- 
fortunately were not worth the killing. 
"At nightfall and in the early morning we watched 
paths or runways supposed to have been frequented by 
deer, but nothing I ever saw disturbed my belief that 
this frequenting must have been in some pregeologic 
age. Perhaps the "signs," which our patient and well- 
paid guide so eagerly pointed out to prop up our droop- 
ing spirits, were really the work of frisky and reckless 
mammoths and mastodons in the remote past. 
"When we had decided upon our watching places it 
did not take us long to learn to find them for our- 
selves and the guide soon ceased to help us in this re- 
spect, keeping lookout for himself at some more remote 
and favorable location. One afternoon J and I had 
been patiently and laboriously making the shocked soli- 
tudes resound with our still-hunting, and upon return- 
ing late after an uneventful day we found that our guide 
had left for his evening vigil. Not wishing to miss a 
single opportunity, nor to delay too long, we hurriedly 
re-examined our guns and left camp for our watching 
places. 
"Mine was south of camp, the trail skirting the river 
for a short distance and then crossing on a log jam left 
from the lumbering operations of the previous spring. 
Crossing this rude bridge, I walked briskly up the hill, 
as it was rather too late already, but the way seemed 
longer and more obscure than ever before, and to save 
time I accelerated my pace almost to a run. One 
peculiarity about becoming involved and finally lost in 
these regions is that the victim rarely realizes his 
dilemma until he has increased his confuson by some 
impatient and unwise act like this. The result in my 
case was that by the time I realized I must be 'almost 
lost,' the river, which by its murmuring served as an 
excellent guide, was left behind, entirely out of hearing. 
Having paid thus dearly for hurrying off in some wrong 
direction, I determined to think things over before 
traveling further. One point seemed assured, I had 
progressed down stream from the camp, and therefore 
by finding the river and following it up stream a way 
would be found out of the labyrinth. Obviously, there- 
fore, the water was to be first sought, and I according- 
ly set out to find some little stream that might lead 
down to it. Fortunately this was soon discovered, and 
following the current in what seemed exactly the wrong 
direction, I was at last rewarded by the welcome sound 
of rapids in the larger stream. The bank that I came 
out upon was quite high and strangely unfamiliar, but I 
pushed bravely along as rapidly as the nature of the 
ground would allow, there being no trail (another sur- 
prising circumstance). At various points the curving of 
the bank made it possible to look up stream a consider- 
able distance, and numbers of log bridges could be dis- 
cerned, but each, upon nearer approach, proved to be 
unlike the one I had first crossed upon. Most of them 
did not extend entirely across, a strip of dark and rapid 
water being between the last logs and the shore. 
"By this time the deepening twilight was rendering 
everything obscure, and traveling even over good trails 
practically impossible. The high bank was at some 
points rocky, making the footing very insecure, and I 
had some narrow escapes from a slip into the stream 
below. It therefore seemed necessary to select some 
good place to make a night of it, and remembering 
stories of panthers being occasionally heard of at various 
points not very far distant, I determined to stop where 
any possible attack could be met at an advantage. Com- 
ing opposite a little island in mid-stream, connected 
with the shore by a more or less uncertain log bridge, 
this seemed to be the best choice, and with some trouble 
I climbed over to it. Now came the most disappointing 
thing, the very unkindest cut of all, for upon looking 
in my coat pockets for matches and knife, I discovered 
that in the hurry of starting out I had put on the 
wrong coat, consequently all my matches were at camp 
and I must do without a fire and with no more sociable 
companion than my rifle. I noted with satisfaction that 
the magazine was nearly full. I had fired a few shots 
at first in the hope of attracting the attention of some 
one who could show me the way out, but these bringing 
no result, further signal firing seemed only a waste of 
ammunition. There were six of tke heavy cartridges 
remaining, and I viewed them almost with affection. 
"Perhaps you can imagine something of the freezing 
discomfort and loneliness of that long night on my 
island. After having been through any similar experi- 
ence no one could ever think of blaming Prometheus 
for stealing that fire from heaven. Rapid traveling and 
my efforts to find my way out had made me very warm; 
consequently the chill wind and lowering temperature 
were to say the least exceedingly uncomfortable. The 
shadows lengthened/ and darkness settled down until 
sunlight remained visible only upon the tops of the tall- 
est evergreens. These, growing upon_ the opposite 
shore, towered high above the surrounding deciduous 
foliage, sharply outlined against the sky. Finally even 
this light grew faint, darkened and went out, and I was 
left with only the stars (which now began to appear one 
' by one) for company. 
"I was so miserably cold that it was impossible to lie 
down, and besides I wanted to remain alert: so the most 
desirable position I found was to stand with my back 
against the tree. For amusement I could keep a sharp 
lookout to guard against any possible danger, watch the 
stars rise and finally go down, or listen to the dull 
moaning of some distant rapids. Late in the night mists 
were driven down the valley and across my island, a 
chill and decidedly disobliging wind having sprung up. 
I was made aware of the presence of these mists in a 
startling and somewhat weird way. Without a watch 
it was impossible to have a very clear idea of time, but 
a few hours before dawn the low trees, which grew about 
me on my little island, were suddenly covered with a 
peculiar phosphorescence, looking somewhat as moist 
snow occasionally does on damp winter mornings. 
There was nothing substantial about it, but in its soft 
brilliancy, where the branches were quite close, it seemed 
to half obscure the sky, the stars shining only faintly 
through. This odd appearance would vanish as instanta- 
neously and as mysteriously as it came, only to again and 
again suddenly reappear. It puzzled me for quite a 
time, and I never talked with anyone who could fully 
account for the phenomenon. My theory is that mists 
illuminated by the star light produced these odd effects. 
Quantities of vapor floated over the water also assum- 
ing at times odd and fantastic shapes. 
"The night aged and grew gray at last, and a brilliant 
morning star told me that my travels could soon be re- 
commenced. A breakfast, however small, would car- 
tainly have been appreciated, but making the best of the 
situation, I pushed on without it, and a short distance 
above my island found a crossing which made it possible' 
to regain the other side, where, to my delight, I found a 
trail. It seemed as if I had certainly traveled far enough 
to make camp, and at each bend I climbed out to the 
bank and looked up stream, only to see great quantities 
of mist rising from the water, under the influence of 
the morning sun, and not a familiar landmark. To 
add to my discomfort, the trail, which had seemed such 
a good friend in my adversity, was growing fainter and 
more faint, and I repeatedly lost it. At last all trace of 
path -disappeared altogether, and after groping about for 
a time in vain efforts to find it again I began to realize 
that many hours of the hardest kind of traveling had 
only exhausted my sadly needed strength, without ap- 
parently enabling me to get any nearer to my friends. I 
remember making a mental calculation as to how long 
anyone could endure the fatigue of travel in a rough 
country with nothing to eat, for the woods were silent 
and forsaken, destitute of all appearances of any living 
thing. 
"It finally occurred to me that I must be on some 
tributary stream, and that by following it down I would 
find the main river, or possibly some camp. I set out 
therefore in the opposite direction, and was rejoiced to 
see that the trail became more easy to follow as I pro- 
gressed. In short, I had budded better than I knew in 
making this last change. When first lost I had traveled 
further than had seemed possible before realizing my 
predicament, and the river being very winding, I had 
at last come upon it above our camp, and not below, 
where my watching place actually was; consequently, in 
going up stream my course had been in exactly the 
wrong direction, and as I traveled down the trail famil- 
iar landmarks soon were to be seen. 
"I reached camp at last to discover that my com- 
panion and the guide were already gone to look me 
up, but a shot from my rifle brought back the guide, who 
signaled to the remainder of our party. Congratula- 
tions' were exchanged, and our guide inquired, 'Whar 
I thought I'd been/ a question I have never been in a 
position very clearly to answer. 
"Shortly afterward we returned to civilization, and 
with me the cure of the • hunting fever was so com- 
plete and permanent that I have never experienced even 
the slightest attack since." 
The Ascent of the Grand Teton, 
Chillicothe, Ohio, Sept. 9. — I note in Forest and 
Stream of Aug. 27 your editorial comment on the As- 
sociated Press dispatch recentlv sent out from Cheyenne, 
Wyoming, and extensively published in the newspapers, 
of the so-called first ascent of the Grand Teton by W. O. 
Owen and others, and your statement that this is the 
first successful ascent. 1 
The highest pinnacle of the Grand Teton was first 
ascended by Hon. Nathaniel P. Langford and Captain 
Stevenson, on July 29, 1872. A full and complete ac- 
count of their expedition to and first successful ascent of 
the peak, written by Mr. Langford, appeared in the June 
number, 1873, of the then Scribner's, now Century, Mag- 
azine. In their ascent, Langford and Stevenson found 
upon a buttress of the mountain, near its summit, the 
remains of a stone shelter or house, evidently of great 
age, and their description of this remains has apparently 
led to a misapprehension of the fact that they made the 
highest point of the mountain itself. But that they made 
the first ascent of the great peak, so far as we have any 
authentic account, is beyond question. Stevenson is 
dead, but his companion, Hon. N. P. Langford, to 
whom more than any other person is due the establish- 
ment of Yellowstone National Park, now lives at St.. 
Paul, Minn. The Grand Teton is an extremely difficult 
and dangerous mountain to ascend — more difficult per- 
haps than any of the Alps — and Mr. Owen and party are 
entitled to great credit for having reached its summit, but 
the honor of its first ascent belongs to Langford and 
Stevenson. Luther B, Yaple. 
A Costly Zoo Specimen, 
The famous donkey which was brought back from the 
Soudan by the Australian volunteers who went there in 
1885 has just died. That donkey cost the country 
something like £350,000, for that was the cost of the 
expedition, which resulted in nothing but the securing 
of the donkey. Most of us have heard of the apt and 
philosophical rejoinder of the late Sir Henry Parkes, 
when somebody alluded to the expense involved in 
securing the donkey by the Sydney Zoo. "I am sorry 
to say," he said, "that it isn't the only donkey that 
has cost us £350,000." — Sydney Daily Telegraph. 
