6d 
T. 22, I 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
329 
urkey shot. When they were pretty close to where the 
oet was baying, they saw that he was jumping round 
big buck and making desperate efforts to catch him by 
he nose. Maergie shooed off her horse and managed to 
pen up within zsvds. without being discovered, and 
linking that two charges of turkey shot might prove 
aore useful than one. nulled both triggers at once, 
ortutuuely for her shoulder, one cartridge missed fire, 
nd the buck ran about 50yds. and fell dead on the too of 
ttle ledge of rock on the hillside. Maggie's mother 
Ow came up with the horses, and tbey led the oldest 
nd quietest of them under the ledge the deer was on, and 
etween them managed to roll him into the saddle, 
hen there was a grand procession back to the ranch, 
1 aggie's mother going first with the gun, and then 
vme the buck with Maggie sitting behind the saddle 
olding him on. When I asked her afterward how she 
anaged to ride behind the saddle, she blushed; they 
ere not likely to meet anv one out there anyway. 
The deer was unharmed excepting the shot wounds, 
suppose he was too proud to run from a smgle dog, and 
hen found the dog a bit too much for him. 
Purbeck. 
A Maine Moose Country. 
Naty Fogg, Tock Darling's grandson, whose hunt- 
tig camps are on the Sebois chain of lakes, in northern 
tfaine. writes that the hunting is better than he has 
ver known it. and that there are very few sportsmen in 
lis section this fall. This is a condition of affairs a good 
nany sportsmen are looking for. Many gave up their 
mnting trips, first to the Adirondacks and later to 
vTaine because they were being too much crowded by 
ither soortsmen, and to this fact is partly due New 
3runswick's rise in popularity. Given eood huntinsr 
nd plenty of elbow room, and most sportsmen would 
.rrio r the hunting grounds nearest honie^ 
The chances for moose in Fogg's neighborhood, when 
he season opens, are verv promising. A spike horn 
nick in the velvet was killed there a few davs n-o. 
"'here was apparently no cause for the abnormal co^di- 
lon. J- R B - 
A Story of Jefferson. 
While he was playing "Rip Van Winkle" at Chicago, 
efferson once went to the theater very much exhausted 
by a long dav's fishing on the lake. As the curtain 
•ose on the third act it disclosed the white-haired Rip 
Hall deep in his twenty years' nap. Five, ten, twenty 
ninutes passed and he did not awaken. The audience 
oe^an to get impatient and the prompter uneasy. 
The great actor doubtless knew what he was about, 
but this was carrying the realistic business too far. 
The fact was that all this time Jefferson was really 
keeping the sleep of the just, or rather of the fisher- 
man who had sat eight hours in the sun Finally the 
•rallery became uproarious, and one of the gods 
wanted to know if there was going to be. f nineteen 
ears more of this snooze business!" , 
Vt this point Jefferson began to snore. J. his tie- 
•ided the prompter, who opened a small trap beneath 
lie stage and began to prod Rip from below. the 
.a^eed comedian fumbled in his pocket for an imaginary 
ratfwav ticket, and muttered drowsily, "Going right 
hrough. 'ductor." 
At this entirely new reading the audience was trans- 
fixed with amazement, when all at once Jefferson sat 
lib with a loud shriek, evidently in agony. The ex- 
asperated promoter had "jabbed" him with a oin Con- 
sciousness of the situation came to him and the play 
- ent on after that with a rush.— Philadelphia Saturday 
Post. . 
PRIZES FOR AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHS. 
The Forest and Stream offers prizes for meritorious 
work with the camera, under conditions which follow: 
The prizes will be divided into three series: (1) for 
live wild game; (2) for game in parks; (3) for other sub- 
ects relating to shooting and fishing. 
(T) For live game photographs three prizes are of- 
fered, the first of $50, the second of $25, and the third of 
$10. 
(2) For live game in parks, for the best picture, a 
prize of $10. 
(3) For the best pictures relating to Forest and 
Stream's field— shooting and fishing, the camp, camp- 
ers and camp life, sportsman travel by land and water, 
incidents of field and stream— a first prize of $20, a sec- 
ond of $15, a third of $10, and for fourth place two prizes 
of $5 each. - 
There is no restriction as to the time nor as to where 
the pictures have been made or may be made. 
Pictures will be received up to Dec. 31 this year. 
All work must be original; that is to say, it must not 
have been submitted to any other competition or have 
been published* 
There are no restrictions as to the make or style of 
camera, nor as to size of plate. 
A competitor need not be a subscriber to the Forest 
and Stream. 
All work must be that of amateurs. 
The photographs will be submitted to a committee, 
who, in making their award, will be instructed to take 
into consideration the technical merits of the work as 
a photograph, its artistic qualities and other things be- 
ing equal, the unique and difficult nature of the subject. 
Photographs should be marked for identification with 
initials or a pseudonym only, and with each photograph 
should be given, answering to the initials, the name of 
sender, title of view, locality, date and names of camera, 
and plate or film. 
^Yukon^Adventures. 
{Continued from page 264.) 
Lake Lebarge. 
Lake Lebarge is the last and largest of the lakes at 
the headwaters of the Yukon. It is thirty-one miles long 
and from three to five miles in breadth. Except for ex- 
tensive flats at each end the lake is bordered by low 
ranges of fantastically shaped mountains, showing large 
areas of naked rock. Near the lower and on the east 
side these hills are particularly remarkable for their 
abrupt forms, culminating in tower-like summits of 
white limestone. 
Lake Lebarge is named after Mike Lebarge, one of 
the employees of the Western Union Telegraph Com- 
pany, who, more than thirty years ago, were looking for 
a trans-Alaskan route to Asia. It seems pretty certain 
that Lebarge never saw the lake, but in some way his 
name has been tangled up with it. George Holt, who 
was murdered by the Indians at Cook's Inlet in 1885, 
seems to have been the first white man to have reached 
Lake Lebarge. He made the trip in 1878. The Chil- 
cat and Chilcoot Indians effectually interfered with the 
exploration of this portion of the Yukon Basin, and it 
was not till 1880 that the white men again saw Lebarge. 
This time it was a party of twenty-five prospectors who, 
through the effective agency of Captain Beardslee, of 
the United States Navy, better known to the readers 
of Fokest and Stream as Piseco, established amicable 
relations with the Indians, and gained access to the for- 
bidden country. From that time on each year saw a 
handful of white men on the upper Yukon, but the 
number was very small, and individual prospectors were 
widely scattered over the immense inhospitable wilder- 
ness up to the time of the Klondike excitement. 
Lake Lebarge is a bad place for camping, owing to 
its rocky shores and general scarcity of timber. It is 
subject also to high winds. When Major Walsh's out- 
fit of police crossed, several of the boats were nearly 
swamped. Constable Barnes handled an oar in a boat 
which was steered by an old sea captain in the Gov- 
ernment employ. Half-way down the lake the mountain- 
ous waves began breaking inboard, and as the preci- 
pitous shores made it impossible to land, it looked very 
much as if the boat would be. swamped and all on board 
drowned. It was bitter cold, and the frozen spray 
mingled with sleety rain. 
Barnes hung to his oar till, despite, his violent exer- 
tions, he was chilled to the bone. Thinking he might 
as well die comfortably, he stopped rowing for an 
instant and prepared to put on his warm pea-jacket. 
"What you doing there?" the old captain roared. 
"Putting on my coat, sir," said Barnes. 
"Drop it and take your oar, you'll be in a warm 
enough place before long." 
In our voyage down the lake night overtook us just 
below Richtofen Island. The wind was blowing strong 
from the south, and in our desire to take advantage 
of the. help it gave, we passed several likely camping- 
spots. When finally we wanted to land, a sheer wall of 
rock prevented', against which the waves were breaking 
in foam, and we could not find any protection for our 
boats. The night was overcast, and soon all landmarks 
laded out, and We were left alone with the howling wind 
and troubled waters, with only a thin outline of the 
shore to be seen. We took in our sails, and for an 
hour or more rowed along as near shore as we dared 
go, looking for a harbor. At length I saw an indentation 
in the shore line. I rowed close in under the shadow of 
the mountain, heading unwittingly toward some semi- 
submerged rocks. My heart stood still when of a sud- 
den I saw only a few yards away a wave break, and out 
of the white boil the black, jagged points appear. The 
reefs extended to right and left, and escape seemed im- 
possible. I threw my head boat round, but the other, 
swept on by the wind, was carried against the rocks, and 
for an instant hung suspended. The next she was lifted 
clear and out in the open waters of the lake. 
Again we resumed our search 'for a harbor. The rocky 
wall-like shore line became diversified by occasional 
shingle beaches, but on these the waves were breaking 
so that we dared not land. I kept my eyes fixed on 
the rear boat, fearing any moment she would disappear, 
for I was nearly positive she had sprunk a leak, but the 
night was so dark that I could not detect her gradual 
settling in the water. 
It was not till with a lurch that almost stopped the 
progress of the head boat the other turned over, only 
showing a few inches of her side and bottom above 
water, that I knew for certain the worst had happened. 
For the second time I had a nasty sensation in the 
cardiac region. I had on heavy hip boots, and it was 
several hundred yards to the nearest beach through water 
that approximated the freezing point in temperature. 
The capsized boat contained, besides half our provisions, 
picks, shovels, axes and other hardware, and. as she was 
built of canvas with the lightest of wooden frames, there 
seemed to be nothing to prevent her going to the bot- 
tom like a shot, and dragging the other boat along. 
My first inclination was to cut the rope connecting the 
two boats and abandon the sinking craft, but it wasn't 
pleasant to think of losing the necessities ti c boat con- 
tained, and I resolved to hang on.' Calling to Mac to 
stand by to help, I turned for the nearest beach. This 
necessitated a course in the trough of the sea — the shore 
directly to leeward was bare rock — and the rowing was 
hard and tedious. 
What kept the boat afloat during the two or three 
minutes required to make the distance" is a mystery. 
The only reasonable explanation seems to be that a small 
amount of air was retained by the upper side of the 
boat, and the articles in sacks took some time to wet 
through. 
It is a fact, however, that she kept on top until we got 
her into shallow water, and then sunk. In this position 
she acted as an anchor for the leading boat, keeping 
her end on to the sea and just clear of the beach. This 
was fortunate, as Mac's boats had to be attended to. 
If any one of our four canvas craft had been left alone 
in. this situation they would soon have pounded to 
pieces on the beach. 
Into the icy water we both went, and the waves filled 
our boots and drenched our clothing. I held Mac's 
boats off while he unloaded, and afterward we carried 
them up on the beach high and dry. Then we went at 
the salvage of the remaining boats, and some time after 
the middle of the night had rescued about everything, the 
canvas which was tacked closely around the gunwales 
of the submerged boat having prevented her cargo 
from falling out. 
Fifty rods back from the beach was a little group of 
firs in a hollow protected from the wind, and here we 
built a great camp-fire and dried our clothes and had. a 
bite to eat. Afterward we stretched ourselves beside 
the glowing embers and had a few hours' sleep. 
The following day was mild, windy and sunny. We 
spread out on the beach tools, clothing, beans, dried 
fruits and other articles, and before night had them 
pretty well dried out. We could not get rid of all the 
moisture, however, and during the winter were troubled 
by the frozen condition of particular articles. 
All the glacial streams which supply the water to the 
river were frozen, and had ceased running, and the Lewis 
almost ran dry. In the Thirty-Mile River, as the 
stretch between Lake Lebarge and the Hootalinqua is 
called, the irregular bottom was cropping up every- 
where. The perils of navigation were increased a hun- 
dred fold. We played checkers with submerged boulders 
that howled for our lives and roared with vexation when 
we escaped. The noise they made was enough to turn 
a man's hair white. 
Below the mouth of the Hootalinqua the river im- 
proved, and the Big and Little Salmon rivers and the 
Nordenskiold were passed without incident. Here we 
averaged thirty-five miles per day, despite the fact that 
daylight now only lasted about a third the time one has 
it in mid-summer. Ice was running in the river, but 
there was always a clear channel, and our progress was 
not impeded, The country near the Big Salmon is 
attractive, and the hills wooded from base to summit 
wherever seen, something very unusual. 
Nov. 3 we had a hard time chopping our boats out 
from the ice, which had formed around them in the 
night. The Indians at the Nordenskiold offered us 
moose meat for two bits a pound. About noon we 
saw an Indian canoe poled by two men rounding the 
angle of a clay bluff below. Thev hailed us and we 
crossed to their side of the river. Thev informed us that 
Adney sent word he had passed White River and 
hoped to reach Dawson. They were refugees from 
Dawson. Near the point they passed Adney they had 
lost their boat in the ice, and traveled up to Selkirk on 
the shore ice. Here they purchased another boat, and 
though they had scarcely any provisions and still had 300 
miles to travel, they were in good spirits and confident 
of getting out alive. It is certain that they had to 
relinquish their boat the following day, and no doubt 
they had a tough time to reach the coast. 
Five Fingers, 
We were approaching Five Finger Rapids, with re- 
gard to which we had heard all kinds of contradictory 
reports. Some even went so far as to say these rapids 
were more dangerous than any above. Pink Rapids, five 
miles below, was also the subject of much contradictory 
report. Dawson has put it on record in his official 
report that Pink Rapids do not exist, or at most the 
rapid is of trivial importance. 
As a matter of fact, both rapids are bad under certain 
conditions of water. Five Fingers is dangerous in 
high water, and Pink Rapids only when the water is 
low. 
Both rapids are on stretches of the river having an 
easterly direction, and as the course of the river else- 
where, without exception, is north or west, it is easy to . 
locate the approach. 
Early in the afternoon of Nov. 3 we swung sharply 
to the eastward, and knew we were close to Five Fin- 
gers. We could see trails in the snow all over the 
northern hillside, where men had traveled to inspect the 
rapids before going through. The men from Daw- 
son had told us something of the rapids, and we lost 
no time looking them over. We took the right hand 
channel and went through without incident. 
The rapid is caused by the occurrence of several bold 
rocky islands between which the river has cut narrow 
channels. At one time, no doubt, there was a fall here 
caused by the barrier of conglomerate rock. The rapid 
proper is onlv a few yards in length. The water passes 
over a dam-like formation with a long swell at the bot- 
tom. We put our boats through backwards and suc- 
ceeded in preventing the pairs ramming each other by 
rowing hard against the current the moment the freight 
boat's progress was checked by striking the wave. 
Pink Rapids showed whitecaps from shore to shore, 
and there seemed to be no clear channel. We chose a 
place only 15 or 20ft. from the right hand bank of the 
river, and as we passed over the reef that forms the 
rapids we could very plainly see the bottom. 
Mush Ice, 
It was bitter cold that night, and when we arose the 
following morning several hours before daylight, as was 
our custom, we heard a new noise from the direction of 
the river. It was a crackling noise such .as would 
be made by crumpling stiff paper, interspersed by 
monotonous swish ings and scrapings. 
Mac went down the river to get a pai! of water and 
came back with the bucket full of slush instead. "I am 
afraid it's all up," he remarked, "you can't see any open 
water, and I can't jam the bucket down through the 
stuff." This was the dread mush ice in earnest. Up 
to the day before ice which had formed on ropes and 
oars melted when dipped in the water. Now the re- 
verse was the case, and they accumulated ice by immer- 
sion. The temperature of the water was actually below 
the freezing point, and only the swiftness of the cur- 
ren kept it from congealing into a solid mass of ice. 
As it was. it was a river of slush that momentarily be- 
came moulded into circular cakes, turning upon their 
axes as a result of the friction of the bank's. 
Much of the ice formed on the bottom of the river in 
eddies formed by the irregular bed of the stream, and 
such ice from time to time broke loose and rose to 
the surface, carrying with it rocks and stones. Ice 
formed on the bottoms of our boats, and when we 
pushed off into , the current our oars soon became so 
heavy with the accretion that we cowld not comfortably 
