422 
FOREST ^ND STREAM. 
rjiTNE 3, 1899. 
Pioneer Days. 
I— At Ihs Deer's Keai. 
One evening more than a century and a quarter ago 
tkepe was a motley company gathered in the bar-room of ■ 
the "Deer's Head Tavern," the house of entertainment for 
man and beast in one of the border towns of Connecticut. 
There were farmers of the neighborhood, the blacksmith, 
the shoemaker and the hatter, already proverbially drunk; 
and there were young men, who dropped in to gather news 
of the wild new lands to the northward from returning 
explorers and speculators. 
Among these was an old hunter, a ranger of the old 
war, on his way to the rich trapping grounds that he had 
discovered and made note of, during his military service. 
He was a wiry little man, baked in the sun ; past middle 
age, smoked by a thousand camp-fires, salted by the 
snows of many winters, until his hair and stubblv beard 
were as grizzled as a frosted hemlock, and his skin the 
color and toughness of jerked venison. His well-ripened 
nose went frequently into a mug of flip, which he was 
drinking at the expense of his most interested listener, a 
tall, muscular young man, with keen gray eyes, a promi- 
nent pointed nose, and a firm set mouth, all constantly 
turned upon the hunter to catch every word that dropped 
from his lips. 
There was another listener, who was giving very close, 
though not so noticeable attention, while as yet taking no 
part in the conversation, but who silently sipped his rum 
and water as he cast furtive sidelong glances of his sharp, 
black eyes upon the old ranger and his young friend. He 
was cla'd from head to foot in a worn suit of rusty black 
which, with a sanctimonious cast of countenance, gave 
him the appearance of a clergyman. 
"Yes, sir," the hunter said, withdrawing his nose from 
tl'*2 mug after an exhaustive draught, and looking sug- 
gestively into the empty vessel, "if I was a young man, 
which I hain't, an' wanted tu farm it for a livin', which I 
don't, bein' tew old a dog tu Tarn new tricks, Td jest go 
up there int' the wilderness, 'way up, ye understan', where 
there hain't nob'dy, an' Td make me a pitch nigh tu good 
trappin', an' Td resk but what Td git enough fur, in tew 
year, fall an' wintei-, tu pay for my land." 
"Du you know any sech a place?'' the young man asked. 
"Lord bless ye, dozens on 'em, on the Great Otter, an' 
the Little Otter, an' on the Lewis Creek, acres an' acres, 
flat as this 'ere floor, an' where you hafter hunt half a 
day tu find tew stuns tu crack a but' nut." 
"It's a turrible ways off,; hain't it?" the young man 
asked, his eyes wistfully following the trim figure of the 
landlord's daughter, who now entered the room and 
traversed the length of it in quest of her father, who was 
busy at the fireplace, heating the loggerhead for the con- 
coction of two fresh mugs of flip. Her hair was red- 
gold, her cheeks red roses, and her eyes of violet blue, 
wherewith she cast a bewitching glance on the young 
man, as she passed, and bestowed a nod of her pretty 
head. 
"Lord, she's a pooty one!" the hunter remarked m un- 
feigned admiration, "Naow, if you could get her tu jine 
ve, boy, in makin'-a pitch up there, you'd be fixed com- 
plete." . 
He drained the stale remaining drops from his mug, and 
his companion, noting his unslaked thirst, ordered a 
replenishing of the mugs with a further purpose of 
coTering his blushing confusion. "Why. yes," the ranger 
resumed, waiting thirstily with watery mouth, 'the 
maouths of them streams is a good ways off, but the Great 
Otter head's nigher, not far from the West River, which, 
an' it, was a main part o' the ol' Injun Road. Look a' 
here," he drew from his pocket a fiat powder horn en- 
graved in black outlines with a rude mai^j of Champlain 
and its tributaries, "it is daown in the flat country mgh 
the lake, but where you want to go is near the maouth of 
the Little Otter, or the Lewis, where the's better farm 
land and trappin' ground." , 
The clerical looking stranger pricked his ears at these 
names, and clearing his tliroat to call attention, said 
blandly, addressing the younger man : "My young friend, 
if you have an idea of going into the new country, as 
your friend so wisely advises, I think I can help you to the 
very place you want." Thereupon he drew a map from 
his pocket and spread it upon the table. It was a plotted 
map of a township in the New Hampshire Grants, show- 
ing every numbered lot and the course of the streams. 
"There," said the stranger, laying his finger on a lot 
between the mouths of two small rivers where they en- 
tered the lake, "there's a lot 'at I've took on a debt an 
can sell dog cheap for cash, an' it's exactly what you 
want for the purpose your friend here is a-speakin' of. 
just look at it. a-layin' on two rivers, with a mill seat an' 
both of 'em, in it, an' trappin' an' fishin' right tu your 
door *^ 
"It does look temptin'," said the old ranger, studying 
it attentively; "but I can't seem tu remember no falls so 
low down on the Little Otter or the Lewis, ary one. Was 
you ever there, stranger?" _ 
The landlord now came with the foaming mugs diltus- 
ing a pungent fragrance of beer and spirit as he set theni 
before his guests, and gave them a finishing touch of 
creaminess with a sizzling plunge of the jointed logger- 
"Buyin' of ye a right o' land up in the Hampshire 
Grants, Josier?" he asked, glancing down at the map. 
"Wal, a-thinkin' on't some," the young man replied. 
"A good idee, for a young feller," said the landlord en- 
couragingly. "Jest what Td du if I was your age, bein' 
the's no gre't chance heue, in the old settlements. Mr. 
Caproa, here 's jest come from up that way — he can tell 
ye all 'abaout it. Mr. Capron, this 'ere 's my young 
neighbor, Josier Hill, an' this is Kinelm Dalrymple, one o' 
Major Rogers' Rangers in the of war." 
"Hope I see you, gentlemen, an here s to our better 
acquaintance," he touched the glass to his lips and the 
others responded in the same manner. 
"I've scaouted the country all ovenbv land an water an 
I disremember falls on any stream Wi'in three mild o' the 
lake Hev yoii been there, Mr. Canron?" .% ■ 
"Candidly. I hain't, but a friend o' mine has, .and T de- 
pend as much on his account as if I'd seen it." 
"Wal, it don't make no difFrence abaout the mill seats. 
Josier don't want none." 
Capron resumed: "In a-trav'lin' through this vale o' 
tears if one can give a helpin' hand tu a feller mortal he 
helps hisself, sort o' boosts both, so to speak— which is 
what I want to do for our young friend and myself." 
"Be you a minister, Mr. Capron?" Josiah asked, looking 
at him with the suspicion of an ungodly person. 
"I am not, but I hope, a humble follower in the foot- 
steps of the Master," said Mr. Capron, dropping his eye- 
lids' and looking meek. 
"Hear the damned wolf in black sheep's clothing !" said 
a florid, fair-haired giant who was drinking all that was 
good for him at a neighboring table, with the drunken 
hatter and a handsome dark-haired young man for his 
companions. "If the Master caught him a-follerin' him, 
he'd kick him so high, he could hear the Apostles sneeze." 
"That big feller over there," the landlord whispered, 
pointing to the trio, "is a takin' up lots o' land in the 
Grants, him an' his brothers. That han'some little chap 's 
one on 'em— Stub Allen, they call him. T'other one is ol' 
Ethan, a reg'lar ol' war-hoss, 'at fears neither God, man 
or devil." 
"All 'raound my hat I wears the green wilier," the 
hatter howled in a high falsetto, that cracked and fell in a 
ruin of rumbling bass. 
"H-s-s-sh!" the handsome brother cautioned with a 
sidewise toss of his curly pate toward the landlord. 
■• 'S my hat! I made it, 'n' I'll wear wilier on er hat 'f 
I niin' ter, 'n' I'll sing 'bout 'em 'f I min' ter !" the hatter 
hiccoughed, glaring savagely into space. 
"That damned fool of a Iratter is drunk ag'in," the land- 
lord remarked, sorrowfully. "I'll hafter send him hum tu 
rights. Say, Bellows," to the brawny blacksmith, "can't 
you coax Felt home? He's full enough." 
"Oh, yes, I can coax him," the smith said, rising and 
going across to the little hatter. "Come, Felt, it's time you 
an' me was tu hum. Come!" 
'•Mr. Felt-hat is my guest, and he'll go home when he 
and I please." the flaxen-haired giant roared. 
"But his wife's a-waitin' for him, Mr. Allen," the black- 
smith urged, mildly, but with a dangerous glitter in his 
cavernous black eyes. 
"Captain Allen, if you please," the giant amended his 
title. 
"Beg pardon, Capt'in Allen. His wife '11 be oneasy 
abaout him." 
"Oh well, that alters the case— the ladies must always 
be considered," said the placated giant. "Let me assist 
you, old Hammer-and-Anvil." So saying, he picked up 
the little hatter and flung him across the blacksmith's 
shoulder, where he hung limply, dangling arms and legs 
as the smith bore him away amid the cheers of the com- 
pany. 
The company how began to disperse, some perhaps hur- 
ried by the example of the poor hatter, others having no 
need of it. To whatever sort the fair giant belonged, he 
arose from his seat, tov^^ering above all others. 
"Come, Stub, they've broke our trinity, so le's go tu 
bed— when I've pronounced the benediction." Then 
spreading out his brawny hands on a level with most 
^ heads. "The blessing of the Great Jehovah be upon this 
goodly company and upon this house — even unto that 
clerical gentleman over there, and especially upon all the 
fiord's anointed who intend going up into the wilderness 
to make it blossom like the rose." 
"I'm no minister, Captain Allen, but a lawyer," said 
Capron. 
"Ah, indeed, a scribe, not a Pharisee," said Allen. Good 
night, gentlemen. Come on, Stub." and with that took up 
a candle, and followed by his brother, strode away with a 
tread that made all the glasses ring. 
"Now we're more by ourselves," said Capron, looking 
around the almost empty room with its clouds of wavering 
smoke and the unsnuffed candles gleaming dimly through 
them. "I'll make you an offer. I'll give you a deed o' 
this right o' land for ten pound, the balance of fifteen 
pounds to be paid in three notes on long time, to make it 
easy for you. If I wasn't in need of money, I wouldn't 
make sech a sacrifice. What do you say, Mr. Hill ?" 
you as' 't. But it is an awful ways off to go, aft^' a luji- 
some life for a woman." 
"It's lunsomer for a man all by hisself. I wouldn't 
never be lunsome wi' you." 
"It's diff'nt wi' men. Well, it's a hull year fust, ariy- 
ways !" 
"Yes, an' I can du lots in a j^ear, an' we'll be faithful 
an' true, Chloe." 
"Faithful an' true, of course, we will, or least' ways, I 
shall. There, you've taowsled my hair till it looks as if 
the witches hed been in it. Good night." 
"Good night." 
Josiah's companions exchanged significant glances when 
he returned to them within the appointed time, his face 
calmlj' radiant, and announced "It's, a bargain, Mr. 
Capron, an' you may draw the writin's if you can show 
me a clear title." 
Thereupon the lawyer produced a parchment duly con- 
veying to him a certain right of land from one of the 
original grantees of the township of Lakefield on Lake 
Champlain in his Majesty's Province of New Hampshire. 
This being apparently correct, the lawyer proceeded to 
make another deed to Josiah Hill, which was signed by 
him, Anthony Capron, and witnessed by the landlord 
and Kenelm Dalrymple, to be acknowledged next day be- 
fore a magistrate. 
'T conclude you've found you a pardner, Mr. Hill," 
Capron said, slyly. 
"Yes," Josiah answered, imperturbable, but for blushes. 
"Mr. Dalrymple here's a sort of a pardner." 
Dalrymple took a final pull at his mug and then taking 
up the candle after snuffing it with his fingers, sucked the 
fluctuating flame into his black pipe until the heel was 
well ignited, and said : 
"Wal, seein' aour business is all squared up, we might 
as well turn intu aour blankets. Good night, gentlemen." 
The hostler came in and blew out the candle in his tin 
lantern, and made up his bed in the bunk; the landlord 
carefully banked the coals in the fireplace ; Josiah de- 
parted ; the lawyer went to his room ; the bar-room lapsed 
into silence and dim confusion of objects, as the flat cloud 
of tobacco smoke and the mixed fumes of the various 
liquors slowly drifted up the wide chimney. 
Rowland E. Robinson. 
ye, an help ye build a log 
trappin', for the sake o' hevin' company an' a place tu 
stay. Naow, what d'ye say?" 
"I'll let ye know in ten minutes," said Josiah, after a 
few minutes pondering. "Is Mistress Chloe in the kitchen, 
Mr. Jarvis?" he asked the landlord, and upon an affirma- 
tive answer, arose and went out to the kitchen, where he 
found the buxom Chloe taking a final oversight of her 
finished labors. 
"Why, Josier Hill!" she said, with an affectation of 
surprise, and a pout on her pretty lips that her smiling 
eyes belied. "I reckoned you wa'n't goin' tu gi' me a 
word this night, you was so took up wi' them hateful ol' 
men, an' your flip. That han'some Mr. Allen had more 
looks for me 'an what you had. My! hain't his eyes 
black, though !" 
"Never you heed 'em, Chloe, they don't mean you no 
good," he said, taking both her hands in his and looking 
down at her with tender seriousness, "I hev got a word 
for ye, in sober airnest, an' I'll say it right naow wi'aout 
no b?atin' 'round the bush." 
"Law, Josier, you 'most scare me, you look so solemn. 
"It's solemn business. I'm thinkin' o' goin' up int' the 
New Hampshire Grants, an' makin' a pitch. If I du, an' 
git a home made ready for ye, snug an' comf't'ble by a 
year from naow, will ye go an' share it wi' me? We've 
knowed each other since we was babies, an' hed ought tu 
know by naow whether we can stan' it together all aour 
lives. It won't be an easy life for a spell, but I'll du the 
best I can for ye, an' it'll go better arter a few years. It's 
a 'st'or'nary fine country up there, an' there's nothin' tu be 
feared on naow but natur' an' wild beasts, sence the war's 
over an' the Injuns quilled. Gi' me an answer, Chloe, an' 
if it's yes, I'll go, an' if it's no, I'll go, but I don't want tu 
make no pitch. For God's sake, say yes. if you can." 
"Law, Josier. you're so sudden I hain't no breath tu 
answer you." she gasped, pale as a lily. 
"You've knowed all along 'at I wanted ye, an you d 
ort tu know by naow whether yoii'll hev me or no." 
"A year, you say?" 
"Yes. in a year I'll come for ye." 
"Well, then, yes. You knowed T couldn't say no -when 
With the Everglade Seminoles. 
The sportsman who wants adventure, game, glory and 
conquest may find all four in the Everglades of Florida; 
but the man who has hunted with the daring Seminole 
Indian will forever after feel the tameness of hunting 
under ordinary conditions. However fast the door of 
the swamp may be locked, it opens quickly enough to 
whomsoever carries the key. The Seminole is the true 
key-bearer, and with moccasined foot he enters when 
and where he will. The interior yet remains to the 
white man largely a terra incognita. The Everglades are 
simply immense streaks of long, low, level prairies cov- 
ered for the most part with water, saw grass, dense vines, 
reeds and canes, and here and there dotted with little 
islands. This vast region comprises 4,000 square miles 
of tropical swamp. With an elevated position and a 
rare atmosphere the view that would meet the eye would 
differ from any other on the great globe. A thousand 
square miles of saw grass would be seen spreading out 
in the shape of an artist's palette. Toward the end would 
be seen a series of little inland lakes, fed by minia- 
ture rivers. Interblending with these lakes thousands of 
islands would be visible far beyond the saw grass sea. 
The flutter of bird life would be like the milky way at 
night, and the swarms of insects like a distant sand- 
storm in the desert. Bordering the sedgy lagoons are 
cabbage palms. India-rubber and mangroves, while tan- 
gled vegetation weaves itself in chaotic mass over un- 
derbrush and tree. These are the primeval woods of 
the United States. Like old sentinels, they stand, the 
deep roots seeming to hold the floating marsh in its 
place. The gloom and weirdness are enough to distract 
the strongest mind. Every tree is loaded down with the 
funereal moss, every log is moss-grown and decayed. 
The A^ery cranes and herons, poised on one leg, look 
as mournful as the sprawling toad about to become their 
prey. Deer, bear and panther are plenty. The black 
fox skips nimbly from log to log and the gray wolf 
sneaks through the thickets, while the raccoon, the ne- 
groes' friend, creeps through the swamps and lives like 
an epicure on crabs and fish. The cry of the horn owl 
is heard and the far-reaching note of the curlew and fla- 
mingo. A mysterious smoke or mist hangs over the 
Everglades; as to its origin, all sorts of theories have 
been advanced, some going so far as to say that here is 
the crater of an old volcano that has in ages past been 
pushed up out of the ^ea just above its level and land 
formed around it. The Seminole Indians say it is the 
"smoke of the Great Spirit." 
Some tourists hire the Indians who frequent civiliza- 
tion to guide them in hunts, but it is not poor Lo's idea 
to show the white man his hunting grounds; and he will 
take him around and around, always keeping out of 
sight of game with a cunning that Avould do credit to 
a Connecticut Yankee. Possessing that talisman, friend- 
ship and confidence of the Seminole chiefs, our hunter 
arranged for his first alligator hunt. To simplify the 
account of the tenderfoot's experience we will give it 
to the reader in his own words: 
"Taking the little steamer Roseada at Kissimmee City, 
a two days' ride landed us at Bassinger. where I was met 
b)^ an ox-cart, • driven and owned by the Seminoles. A 
ride of forty miles, slow but sure, took us to the Indian 
village at Cow Creek. Here I was met by dogs, picca- 
ninnies, squaws and braves. The Seminole word of wel- 
come was given, 'Ha-tu-eten-chu, hick-cha-hit-is chay" 
(glad to see yo^x), and having survived it I commenced 
to unpack my provisions, causing the Indians to ex- 
claim, "White man eat plenty." "With time limited and 
eager for the hunt for big game. I rested but a few 
hours and then announced myself ready to "hiepus" 
(go). In a cypress canoe, poled by Chief Tom Tiger 
Tail, with old Chief Tallahassee in the stern, we turned 
our boat toward the interior of the Everglades, and . for 
three days traveled over as wild and weird a land as 
Stanley ever explored in Darkest Africa. Poling through 
water lilies, tall grass and overhanging branches, fre- 
