FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 7, 1899. 
A Few Days in the Adirofidacks. 
Mv^ mind had been fixed for months upon fhc antici- 
pated pleasure of a trip to Vermont after deer. A friend 
of mine vStarted a week in advance for Bethel. First came 
a letter sa3ang that he had doubts of success, another say- 
ing that deer was scarce, and with advice to give up the 
trip. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick." Only a 
lover of the woods and gun can feel as downcast as I did 
npon receiving this information. After sitting up late 
nights to select appliances and to pack up after arranging 
business matters and procuring the wherewith to meet 
expenses, I was in a sad state of mind. 
Is^ot tq be balked, I started alone for the Empire State 
Express : Changed cars at Utica for Fulton Chain ; 
changed again for Old Forge. The lakes were drawn 
low to allow for repairs on the dam at Old Forge, hence 
the trips of the steamers were erratic. It was best to em- 
ploy a boatman to reach Hess' Camp, at the upper end of 
Fourth Lake. We started off for the twelve-mile pull. 
Clouds began to gather and an October gale with rain 
came on with the darkness. The guide was a lusty fel- 
low, and worked nobly, but as we passed out of Third 
Lake into Fourth Lake he admitted that we were in for 
it, and asked me to express my wishes. Not caring to 
land in a wilderness and sleep out in the rain, I advised 
going on, and expressed a willingness to take the chances. 
The chances were terrible. North River was never 
rougher as T have seen it. Some .sportsman can recall 
that peculiar twist of an Adirondack boat while riding the 
waves. In spite of the utmost care, the crest of the waves 
was spilled into the boat, and the guivs were wet and the 
baggage afloat. Bailing was difficult. The wind made 
talking impossible, and things grew rapidly worse. A 
glimmer of light shone out from the forest and the guide 
headed the boat for it. The change of course made "con- 
fusion worse confounded." We were carried inshore 
rapidly, tossed up only to come down upon a rock, and off 
one rock to land vipon another. The result was a hole 
in the bottom of the canoe. A terrific wail from the guide 
and the light started toward us, its glimmer interrupted 
by the motion of the man's legs. One more struggle and 
we beached the boat none too soon. A leap in the dark 
and a scramble in the brush, and we are safe. I had often 
heard that the sins of the past flock thick and fast to one's 
mind when in danger. It is true. I thought of the many 
countrj' guide boards that I had peppered with shot and 
of the town hay scales that I had assisted to blow up one 
Fourth of July; tried to remember whether I had ever 
fished Sunday or not, and recalled the day that I carried a 
huge Remington navy revolver to Sunday school. Once 
on land I forgot it all. It was another case of "When the 
devil was sick," etc. The danger over, I juggled success- 
fully with a first aid package, lit an old black pipe and 
called the guide a chump. This guide's name was Bob 
Dalton, and the man on shore states that Dalton shouted 
repeatedly to me to save him. In the West the Dalton 
boys used to hold up others; in the East they seem to 
want to tie held up. 
Our friend on the shore wanted to know what the 
trouble was. We told him that we had started for PVnirth 
Lake, and had brought up off Hatteras. He said : "This 
is Dr. Miller's camp, and possibly he may assist you if 
you are injured." I thanked him for the suggestion and 
told him that we were looking for a niinister while on the 
lal«; now that we were on the land and safe, a doctor 
might be preferable. There is a Lake Placid in the 
Adirondacks, but we were not in it. Dr. Miller proved to 
be a very courteous gentleman. He shared his supper with 
us and allowed us to rest there over night. The Doctor's 
health was not good, or as his man put it, "he was enjoy- 
ing poor health." I alluded to the Biblical admonition, 
"Physician, heal thyself." His man told me the next 
morning that he was well heeled. 
Thanking the Doctor in the morning, we departed, and *. 
secured a large flat-bottom boat for the remainder of the 
trip. We needed it, as the storm was still on. Arriving at 
Hess' Inn, tired out, wet and hungry, an open fire and 
hreakfast were very acceptable. Fred. Hess was down 
in Maine after moose, and probably succeeded in securing 
one or more. A large head of a moose hangs in the office 
as a test of his prowess. 
About noon the sun came out warm, and the remainder 
of the day was as beautiful as only an October day in the 
country can be. T strolled away from the hotel for a 
walk. Skirting Fifth Lake, I came upon the. sawmill 
above. The smell of the new lum.ber recalled pleasant 
memories. Sitting down upon a log, drow.siness _ came 
over mc, and I fancied myself a boy again back in the 
Berkshire Hills, my oldjiome. There were the paths my 
father and mother trod; there was the school to which I 
went; there were the hollyhocks, the sweet brier and the 
buttonwood tree; there were the lilacs through which the 
west wind played in summer and the blasts of winter raged. 
Down across the meadows, past the cemetery, over the 
brook and railroad track, was the sawmill of the town. 
Ai-ouscd from the dream by the impertinence of a chip- 
munk, I wandered along to the dam at Seventh Lake, 
where I could intercept a guide, who had been recom- 
■ mended to me, on his return from the woods. Thinkmg 
over the situation, T recalled the boolcs of the Rev. W. H. 
■ H. Murray. The source of his inspiration was apparent. 
His inspiration and vivid imagination as expressed in his 
book has fired many with an ambition for a trip to the 
North Woods. I am inclined to believe that he was more 
instrumental ifi building the Adirondack Railroad than 
.Dr. Webb. I could never comprehend his ghost story nor 
the canoe ride over the falls. I have always felt that it 
would be great luck to get near a deeryiinder any cir- 
cumstances; that a man could get close enough to grab a 
buck's tail and be yanked about is a little ridiculous. 
Shooting a loon, as described by him, is all right. I have 
tried it. "Jollied you" as an expression may not have 
been in vogue when Mr. Murray wrote the book, but that 
is what he has done with his readers. 
A noise in the brush across the lirook .attractecl my at- 
tention, and soon a pack horse loaded with a deer comes 
into sight. I had inquired at the hotel for a guide named 
Archie Delniarsh, who had been highly recommended to 
me. I readily surmised that one of the parties followmg 
tjie pack horse was Delmarsh. I watched him as he 
forded the stream, noted the ease with which he climbed 
the bank, loaded as he was with pack basket and rifles. 
It was easy to distinguish the guide from the guided. As 
he approached me I said: "I presume that you are Mr. 
Dehnarsh." "I am," he said. I introduced myself, stated 
my desires, and the bargain was soon concluded. This 
guide, Dehnarsh, is a fine fellow. An honest eye, pleasant 
smile, broad shoulders, clean cut from head to foot, he 
stands before you a young Hercules. A continued ac- 
quaintance with him vindicated first impressions. He 
proved to be a good cook, skillful hunter and a genial 
companion; his speech is free from ribald jests; and the 
stereotyped jokes of the camp were noticeably absent. 
Well, we collected the necessary articles for food the 
next mornmg and started off for the seven-mile tramp 
through the virgin forest, described by the Irishman as 
"The forest where the hand of man never put foot.". 
Hardly correct as to this forest, inasmuch as we found 
where the hand of man had put an axe. On a blazed hem- 
lock five miles or so tr^m the start I saw these words 
writtjcn in pencil : 
"Beecher's head zvanfs fixing. It is fienrep utiles 
from Hess." 
Above, in a bolder hand, is the word "Liar." Do I 
quote correctly, Col. Beechei'? Adj. -Gen. Tillinghast has 
read the inscription, so has Raymond S. Spears, corre- 
spondent of Forest .-vnd Stream, and there are others. 
They all understand what prompted the writing. It is a 
recorded wail from tired nature. They tell you that it is 
six miles to Beecher's old camp. It might seem so on a 
level road, but over logs and stones, up hill and down 
dale, through brush and swamp, muck and mire, brooks 
and brambles, with your boots full of perspiration and the 
skin off in many places, with your pack straps galling 
and your gun weighing a ton, you. as a tenderfoot, will 
say it is twenty miles. Some will ask you why you 
go and endure such hardships. I go that I may enjoy 
the hardships. Contrasts are beneficial; I drink ditch 
water that I may better appreciate .'Vpollinaris; eat bacon 
that I may enjoy a tenderloin ste^k;. sleep on the ground 
with the clouds for a roof that I may think better of my 
bed and home. I wear old corduroy breeches, flannel 
shirt, heavy boots and leather cap that I may enjoy the 
delights of creased trousers, white shirt, patent leathers 
and the Dunlap Derby, in a happy combination with the 
other requisites of a well-groomed man. There are sports- 
men who enjoy the stillness of the woods and the chatter 
of the birds and squirrels. They enjoy the jingle of 
the running brook, the twilight, midnight, dawn, sunlight 
and rain. Some are satisfied to return with empty game 
bags, and happy in the thought that they have not taken 
the life of any of God's creatu-res. There the business 
man forgets his troubles — bank balances, bills payable, 
competition and borrowers are forgotten. Everything 
goes and something new comes. But enough of this 
pathos. Jog along, boys, to our open camp; it is only a 
little way further; only another mountain to climb, only 
another swamp to struggle through, part way up a hill, 
through a balsam thicket, and we are at the place they 
talk about. We are actually let in on the ground floor 
and without any detracting contingencies in the base- 
ment. Dropping the rifle and shotgun, off comes the pack 
basket, and "yours for thirst" bolts for the spring with a 
tin pail. In the greed to quench thirst, more of the cold 
spring water goes down the outside than to the inside. 
The old corncob pipe never tasted so good. 
This little clearing is a beauty spot and I like it. In 
"As You Like It" Shakespeare says: 
"And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 
There are live coals under the back log. The fire has 
kept twenty-four hours, Delmarsh having left the noon 
before. The landlord asks me what I will have to eat. 
I answer that I will eat anything, eat it quick and a lot 
of it. I will eat pie with a knife, soup from any part of 
the spoon, and I won't use a napkin or finger bowl. Eti- 
quette at the table be jiggered for once. We_ haven't a 
table, only a .slab on sticks. The coffee 'pot is on, and 
say, just look at it. It won't take the shine from any- 
thing. The pot can call the kettle black and the kettle 
reply in kind. They can scrap and make up and be_ no 
brighter for it. They mean well and are all right inside. 
Coffee is boiling, bacon is frying, potatoes are soaking, 
onions are peeling, and my eyes are weeping. "All is 
well that ends well." Coff'ee, bacon, potatoes, etc.. are 
disposed of, Delmarsh asks me to eat more and offers 
to make an Adirondack shortcake, i. e.. three loln. flap- 
jacks with butter and maple syrup between. I tell him 
that I can eat no more without undressing, and he tells me 
that he had rather see me go hungry than see me go 
naked. We wash the dishes with a rag on a stick and 
hang them up for the sun to dry. 
Now for a still-hunt for deer before night comes on. 
This still-hunting is serious business. Stillness and 
2iolbs. of clumsy humanity do not blend harmoniously in 
my case. The le'aves are dry and I can crush all the twigs 
that want to be broken, and kick every stone in sight. 
The guide tells me I carry the gun all right, but that I 
must be more quiet. I remind him of my extreme deaf- 
ness and tell him tliat he hears more than T do, but that I 
hear enough. 
He led me away off two miles or more from camp; 
we came to a rock as large as a trolley car. He told me 
to stand up there and look out ; told me to keep my mouth 
shut and to breathe through my nose after dark, as the 
night air was bad for gregarious people. I mounted the 
rock and posed as Ajax Defying the Lightning, or as a 
plate of ice cream upon a sideboard. 
He left me and said that he would call later. Inasmuch 
as there seemed to be no deer passing, I wondered what 
had passed in the past. Possibly Leather Stocking and 
Uncas had built their camp-fire and rested under the port 
quarter of this rock while on their way from Otsego to 
the Horicon. ' Maybe Leather Stockmg, alias Natty 
Bumppo told the untutored savage the tale of Elijah 
and the 'bald head and bad boys. Maj'be Lydia Pmk- 
ham had waltzed past three or four generations ago clad in 
a bicycle suit and with her pockets full of artichokes, 
wild onions and tansy. It had grown dark before the 
guide returned. He Came upon me suddenly and with no 
warning. I advised him that he was careless, that he 
might be considered as a deer an^ get his solar-plexis 
disorganized by a bullet. He told Jie that he had con- 
sidered that before leaving camp, and had prudently re- 
moved the cartridges from my rifle. I lifted my hat to 
this philosopher and allowed him to lead me by the hand 
back to camp. We passed near the place the next day and 
inadvertently found a spot where the dead grass had been 
matted down bv some reclining form. By a kind of Sher- 
lock-Holmes deduction, I was satisfied that Delmarsh had 
slept quietly through ray four hours of watchfulness on 
the previous day. These Adirondack guides are slick 
and earn their money by head work. 
We had to eat supper, we had to smoke, we must sleep. 
,but before attempting the same I Avatched for the fairies 
and fantasies read about as seen by others in the embers 
of the camp-fire; I got nothing but heat and beechwood 
smoke^ for the trouble. The focus was wrong. Tired 
nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep, held first mortgage 
and foreclosed. My last thoughts were for the absent 
night gown "with the words, "Sweet lilies close their 
leaves at night" embroidered down the back. Morpheus 
was in command until 3 o'clock A. M., when he was 
ousted by Mephiti Mephitica with the usual accompani- 
ment. The aroma was all pervading. I swatted Del- 
marsh with a gun cover and yelled, "Get up, landlord ; the 
plumbing is bad and the house is full of sewer gasr-" 
"Oh, go to sleep; that's a skunk, and I will shoot hmi," 
he pas.sed back. 
"Don't do it, Archie," I replied, "do as Rowland Robin- 
•son's Irishman did, 'Leave him alone and he'll stink him- 
self to death.' " 
A hunter can go out with a fixed purpose of shooting 
deer, and with no thought of feathers, but let a skunk 
that is eareless with his priming cross his path, and you 
can be assured that he will "consider the 'fouls' of the 
air." 
Tuesday and Wednesday passed and we were still hunt- 
ing. Up in the morning before light, out in the afternoon 
till after dark, and no deer in the camp. I had a splendid 
chance at a fawn, but some way I could not kill the little 
chap. It was not buck fever; it was far pleasanter to 
watch him. Of all the pleasures of the trip, the sight of 
that graceful creature is the clearest in my memory. My 
little friend skipped over the ridge, and I wished that he 
might live forever. I gathered in four partridges with ray 
Daly shotgun. Birds wait for an introduction before de- 
parture in that section, and the only sport obtainable is to 
shy a stick at them to start the wings in action before 
shooting. Broiled partridges, flapjacks, coffee and cigars 
for supper, the Cafe Savarin is a nonentity in compari- 
son to such a meal in such a place. 
Friday came around in regular order. "This is the day 
that tries men's souls." With thirteen cartridges in my 
pocket just for luck, I started out in the rain. The leaves 
were damp under foot, and there was sufficient wind to 
cover any sound caused by passing through the under- 
growth, Delmarsh waited around the camp until I had 
been gone thirty minutes or more. He then started off 
to the right for a valley between the mountains. I had 
reached the opening of the valley down in the plains and 
paused for a moment to locate the Turd o£ the otrcaui 
that pelts down through the valley and empties into the 
river, Oh, my eyes! Across the river, and jumping as 
only a startled deer can jump, was the largest buck ever 
seen in the Fulton Chain regions. My .38-55 handled it- 
self grandly, and it called for lively work on the part of 
its owner to keep up with it. The first shot smote the 
hindquarters — all that was in sight at that moment. The 
second shot spat into the brush where the poor fellow 
had gone down. The second blow evidently stung sharp- 
ly, for the head and foreshoulders appeared on the other 
side, while the haunches were down. Although the dis- 
tance was considerable, I could discern that the stricken 
beast was looking for his tormentor. A feeling of sor- 
row for his suffering came over me, and it seemed merci- 
ful to send the third message through the heart. Just 
how I reached the fallen I don't know. Most of the way 
by water, I think, for I was soaked head, hams and 
heels. There was no feeling of exultation— rather a sense 
of guilt. To see such eyes groAV dim, to see the changing 
colors and the final shriveling, is not glory. Lay the 
blame to your ancestors, to the atavism in your make-up, 
and hope for the day when man will not kill. As an off- 
,set for my conduct, I mused that inasmuch as the allotted 
life of a deer was about twelve years, I had not deprived 
him of all ; possibly he would have died of old age and 
suffered much toward the last; possibly he would have 
been stricken by one oi his own sex and kind, a younger 
and more vigorous creature, in a struggle for supre- 
macy. 
The weight at Fourth Lake after the dressing was 
225lbs. Allowing less than the usual one-third for 
.shrinkage, it is safe to presume that the weight in life 
was 3iolbs. If Any one can tell of a heavier deer 
than this there is a modern Ananias somewhere. Ray- 
mond S. Spears told of this one in yours of November 
13. 1897- 
Archie had heard the three shots and came down to 
see what the trouble was. Upon seeing the deer he 
said, "If I had known that you could shoot I would 
not have untied that buck. I have kept him for the 
last five years in order to allow my guests to see one 
upon the last day." Othello's occupation's gone." 
Wellington Ken well lived seven miles further on. 
We met him on the trail with two pack horses. This 
was luck. I could ride old Doctor and the deer could 
be packed upon the other horse. A hot fire and a par- 
tial change into dry clothing, and "Richard was him- 
self again," The last meal was cooked and eaten. I 
had mounted the old Doctor; Delmarsh passed up the 
pack-basket loaded with pots, kettles and pans. On 
top he placed a bag of buckwheat flour that he wished 
to save. We bade good-bye to the old camp and prom- 
ised to come again. 
This old horse. Doctor, is a famous beast about thirty- 
seven years old. A big bay at one time, but now griz- 
zled with age. He has carried many burdens and been 
faithful through all. His end is near, possibly at this 
writing he has passed over the great _ divide. If there 
be a heaven for horses, may he reach it and there, with 
Bucephalus, Pegasus and Balaam's trotter, with the 
other steeds of antiquity, together with Dexter, Flora 
Temple and others of modem times, may he cavort in 
o-reen pastures and feed upon celestial oats. May the 
only cinch known to him be that of ready access to the 
heavenly grain-cribs. Two miles from camp he erred 
sadly and caused me much discomfiture. I forgave him. 
