462 
FOREST STREAM. 
[June 17, 1899. 
Pioneer Days.— III. 
Progress Through the "Wilderness, 
^ BY ROWLAND E. ROBINSON. 
Whcn they set forth in the gray of the frosty morn- 
ing there was no one else astir in the inn, hvit as they 
looked back the breeze moAred the long tail of the panther 
on the sign post and gave the tawnjr monster a semblance 
of vigilant life as his white fangs gleamed out in the direc- 
tion of the land of the enemy. The patient oxen swayed 
along their leisurely way, the men sometimes in the 
cart, sometimes plodding beside the team, or Kenelm 
flanked it in the wayside woods, v^dth rifle ready for a 
shot at partridge or pigeon. 
Now the road, seamed with ruts and laced -vvith a iiet- 
work of gnarled roots, scarred and worn bare by hoofs, 
wheel* and rain, ran through a forest that looked as 
ancient as the world, its hoary moss-clad pillars rearing 
their branches above the decay and ruin of innumerable 
predecessors — life perpetuating itself by death, as nature 
ever does and as eternity makes itself unending. The 
clatter and rumble of the cart and the shouts of the 
driver echoed far along the palisaded thoroughfare with 
rebounding crash of reverberation, that overbore the 
tinkle of sylvan streams and rustle of wind-swept leaves 
and scared the timid wood folk with unnatural noises. 
Now there was a clatter of hoofs behind, and the two 
Aliens came up, gave a word of cheer as they passed the 
crawling oxen and went clattering and splashing out of 
sight and hearing with their lesser echoes. At noon our 
travelers came to a small clearing, crude and uncouth 
with the newness of its hewing from the wilderness, log 
heaps and stumps dotting the stubble of the recent crop 
and sharing the ground with the shocked corn. The bark- 
roofed log house had its primitive plumping mill ; a hol- 
lowed stump, spring pole and pestle. Its out-door oven, 
like a mud beehive, gave them hospitable welcome through 
its open door to the wide fireplace to cook themselves a 
dinner, which was, in fact, shared by their entertainers, 
while the oxen were made free to a full feed of un- 
threshed oats. Such was the hospitality of the olden time, 
sharing the little it had with every comer, and asking 
as freely as it gave. 
Coming to no such friendly shelter at nightfall, Kenelm 
and Josiah made camp beside a brook, supplying them- 
selves with a goodly store of firewood, for it was a dismal 
camp ground. The wolves began a hideous concert all 
around them as the shadows of night descended upon 
the wilderness, and then behind the black curtain the 
wail of a panther rang stealthiljr, circling about the fire- 
lit center wherein the frightened oxen trembled and the 
sleepless travelers watched and fed their comforting 
companion, the fire. 
So passed their days and nights, barren of incident al- 
most to monotony, except for such slight mishaps as were 
common to pioneer travelers. 
One day a bear, shaggy, black and shining in autumnal 
pelage, slouched into the road before them, and itself in a 
flurry of alarm at the unexpected encounter, frightened the 
oxen almost to an overturn. While Josiah held the team 
steadfast, Kenelm ran forward and killed the brute with 
a well-aimed rifle shot behind the shoulder, and then 
getting the oxen past it with some ado, they loaded it 
upon the cart and journeyed on with their trophy to the 
next frontier hamlet, where it was readily exchanged 
for some needed additions to their stores. 
Anon, they heard the mellow baying of deep-mouthed 
hounds drawing near and nearer from the hills, and 
halting where a pond broke the many-colored expanse of 
forest on the left, when the hounds were closer than the 
melodious echoes of their voices, and standing alert with 
ready rifles, an antlered buck bounded into the space be- 
fore them, and at the double report of the guns plunged 
headlong into the painted thicket, dying the crimson 
leaves redder with its blood. Then the gaunt blue- 
mottled hounds came up and guarded the quarry so fiercely 
that the slayers were forced to stand off until the panting 
hunter came upon the scene, a sturdy man of the woods, 
who made fair division of the spoil, and added something 
for the unstinted praise of his hounds, which he assured 
them : 
"They'll foUer anything from a painter down to a 
Yorker and a skunk, which h& the meanest things in all 
my knowlelge o' man an' natur'." This was Peleg Sun- 
derland and his hounds, which afterward became so 
famous in the hunting of Tories. 
Toward the close of a somber, half-rainy day, when 
there were no shadows in the woods but a universal 
gloom, and the only light seemed to come from the yellow 
and crimson poplars and maples and fiery pepperidges, and 
when the dusk of evening descended and they had not 
found a suitable camp, a pack of wolves began trailing 
them, howling hungrily and calling reinforcements, until the 
road behind was dusky with the gathering throng. Josiah 
kept beside the oxen quieting and encouraging them, while 
Dalrymple sat in the car facing backward, with one rifle 
across his knees and the other in hand to keep the pack at 
bay should they become too threatening. 
At the first slight opening where a brook babbled along 
its pebbly bed and spilled itself into pools over obstructing 
logs, Josiah stopped the team and plied his axe lustily to 
get firewood from a fallen tree. Then firing some punk 
with sparks from flint and steel, he soon had a cheerful 
blaze of splinters, and then a roaring fire that licked and 
tossed the overhanging boughs and drove darkness and 
shadow into the circling gloom. Kenelm, firing his rifles 
in quick succession into the thick of the pack where glar- 
ing eyeballs shone and white fangs gleamed hungrily, sent 
the gaunt brutes snarling and M^hining into the cover of 
darkness, all but three that were found lying stiff and 
stark in the road next morning, and added to the trophies 
already in the cart. 
Another evening, when similarly delayed in finding a 
camp, a panther prowled beside, sometimes seen in tawny 
glimpses or glare of baleful eyes, now the stealthy foot- 
steps stirring the fallen leaves, now leaping a prostrate 
jog, pF tjnheard as its soft pads touched softer moss- 
clad trunks. Kenelm kept vigilant guard, afraid to shoot 
for fear of Avounding, until a camping place and fuel were 
reached, and the unwelcome attendant slunk away, spit- 
ting angrily and then catterwauling afar ofi". 
'Tf we had that feller's pelt for a sign, we'd get us a 
keg o' rum an' go tu keepin' tavern on aour pitch," said 
Kenelm. 
"You'd sell tu me one day, an' me tu you the next," 
Josiah responded. "But I'd ruther not keep tavern if Fd 
got tu git the sign." 
"You'll git used tu all these 'ere varmints afore your 
j'ear 's up, boy, an' thank your stars they haint Injuns, 
which is the b'iled daown black salts o' hell itself." 
One day as they were traveling along the forest- 
bordered road they saw a man moving slowly at some dis- 
tance before them, carefully feeling his way with a staff. 
As they drew nearer he got cautiously out of the road and 
awaited their approach with closed eyes turned toward 
them. "Good folks, be you goin' so far as Manchester?" 
he whined dolorously. 
"Yes, and beyond," Kenelm answered, 
"Wal, then, wouldn't ye jest as lives let a poor blind 
man keep along wi' ye fer company, an' guidin'. If yc 
will, I'll ask the Lord tu bless ye, an' I know He will." 
"Sartinly, an' you can ride in the cart if you're a min' 
tu," said Kenelm, and helped him to mount, and irt doing 
so noticed the butt of a pistol sticking from his pocket. 
"But what be you a-doin' wi' a pistil? I never heerd o' 
blind folks shootin'." 
"Wal, I didn't know but what I might, at clust quar- 
ters if any varmint tackled me, an' it's sort o' comp'ny. 
I could fire it if I got lost, an' raebby fetch somebody fore 
I perished." 
"That is a good idee," said Kenelm. "An' haow come 
ye tu be on sech good terms wi' the Lord 'at He hes ye 
sarve aout His blessin's?" 
"It's turrible lunsome in the dark, an' I commune with 
Him in spirit for company." 
"That's another good idee, tu," the old ranger said. 
"Where be you cal'latin' tu stay tu-night?" the blind' 
man asked, after a little feeling of the things in the 
cart. 
"It depends on where we git tu. Proberly we shall 
camp somewheres." 
A gleam of satisfaction passed over the man's face. 
"I'm glad on 't. I lufter camp aout. The sight — -I mean the 
feelin' an' smell an' noise of a camp-fire doos me good. 
An' you got pork in this 'ere barril?" 
"Yess." 
"An' Injun meal in that 'ere?" 
"Yess." 
"Gosh ! Provisions enough tu keep a fam'ly all win- 
ter. An' them wolf-pelts wi' the baounly '11 fetch ye thirty 
Spanish dollars tu Manchester. Be they expectin' of ye 
there, any o' your folks ?" 
"No, we do' know a soul there," said Kenelm, who, 
happening suddenly to turn his averted face upon their 
new acquaintance, caught him regarding him with open 
eyes and a hungry, crafty expression upon his coun- 
teance, but feigned to take no notice of it. 
They made camp early in the first suitable place they 
came to, and as they were preparing it Kenelm found 
an opportunity to whisper to Josiah : "We want tu keep a 
sharp eye on that feller ; he haint no more blind 'an we 
be !" 
Having got a roaring fire started, they cooked and ate 
their supper, then spread blankets and quilts underneath 
the tilted cart and crept into their beds. Kenelm Dal- 
rymple and Josiah feigned sleep, as did their companion, 
who, after being assured that their slumber was sound, be- 
gan cautiously creeping from his bed and went out to the 
fire, where, watching through half-closed lids, they saw 
him examining the priming of his pistol, then get the 
axe within reach, casting frequent stealthy, backward 
glances at the supposed sleepers, whose snores still in- 
creased in volume. Now, as the scamp crouched again 
to make sure of flint and priming, Kenelm cautiously laid 
off the blankets and crouching like a lynx for a leap, 
sprang at one bound upon the shoulders of the plotting 
thief, and bore him face down upon the earth. 
In the sudden onset the pistol was fired, the harmless 
bullet scattering abroad a shower of ashes and embers. 
Kenelm wrenched it away, and tossed it over to Josiah, 
who now came forth wondering at all the sudden com- 
motion. 
"Fetch a rope an' tie the devil's hands," Kenelm 
panted, sitting on his adversary to regain breath. 
This done they bound him to a cartwheel, threw a 
blanket over him and resumed their own, and slept 
soundly till morning. In the morning they dragged the 
shivering wretch to the fire, warmed him, fed him and 
turned him out upon the road with a parting admonition 
from Josiah: "Now, you skunk, go your ways, an' re- 
member us for hevin' w'rought a meracle on ye, in 
restorin' your sight. Don't seek us no more, for if you run 
acrost us ag'in, it's more'n likely we'd turn j'e deaf an' 
dumb, as well as blind." 
Then they went their way, coming to Manchester, and 
to Socialborough and Fort Ranger, where they bade fare- 
well to their kind and entered upon the long, lonely 
journey to the Little Otter. 
Their route now lay for the most part along the banks 
of the Great Otter, now skirting long, silent flowing 
reaches, now noisy rapids and booming cataracts, here 
the gorgeous forest reflected branch for branch and leaf 
for leaf in the glossy water, except as otter or wildfowl 
broke" it with an arrowy wake, there shattered into a 
thousand flecks of every color where the torn current 
reached down the long incline of rapids, or leaped in a 
white tumult of foam down a wall of rock, and sent 
far down the watery lane and far into the hushed forest 
the tremendous thunder of its plunge. 
So without further adventure with beasts or men, they 
came to the Lower Falls of the Otter, called by the Wau- 
banakees, Ne-tah-me-puntook-Peconktook, and here 
crossed on the gathered driftwood to the right bank, where 
they found one Pangburn established and preparing to 
build a sawmill, yet in constant fear of the Yorkers, who 
held a claim here under a New York charter. He was 
to be their nearest neighbor, and they bade him good- 
by with a promise on the part of each to visit each other 
soon. 
Next day they came to the Little Otter, and crossed it 
on a rude bridge at the chasm of the Lower Falls, whei^ 
they found a Quaker surveyor, Timothy Rogers by 
name, who directed them to their pitch, though he 
, doubted the validity of the title, he being proprietor's 
clerk, and having no record of its sale to Anthony 
Capron. 
"I'm afeared somebody "n other 's b'en a-playln' of thee 
a trick, young man," the old surveyor said, consulting a 
map which he spread upon a stump. "Thy lot, seventy- 
four, was drawed tu the right of Nicholas Delaplane, an' 
I don't find 'at he's sol' it tu anybody. Haowsomedever, 
thee can go on an' make betterments, an' I think Nicholas 
'11 allow thee what's right for 'em. He's a member 'mong 
Friends." 
"This 'ere 's one o' your man's mill-seats, Josier," said 
Kenelm, pointing to the white cataract roaring through 
the narrow gorge, "an' it haint wi'in three mild o' your 
pitch, an' the one on Lewis haint no nigher. That shows 
the critter's a liar, tu begin with." With some misgivings 
they turned their backs upon the surveyor and the forest- 
muffled thunder of the falls, and made tedious progress 
over an abominable road toward their destination. 
After a long search they found the corner tree marked 
on four sides with the numbers of the lots, among which 
was lot seventy-four, a low-lying parcel of land bordered 
by the marshes of two streams on two sides, and heavily 
timbered with pine, hemlock and many kinds of deciduous 
trees — all giants of the ancient days. They made a 
shelter for the night, turned the oxen loose to feed along 
the edge of the marsh, and then slept the heavy .sleep of 
weariness after an accomplished labor. 
Lp you wish to listen I am willing to tell you why and 
when and where we spent a few May days. As to the why 
of it, speaking of myself, I would tell you that my visage 
was distorted with neuralgia pains caused by strained eye- 
sight in looking for business profits, but when you are 
telling others of your pains they have a far distant 
look, and break in upon your tale of suffering and inform 
3'ou about pains of their own. Let that part go. When 
friends talk of the woods and streams it is to me like 
shaking scarlet at a male bovine, and yearnings that are 
latent are aroused, and forgetting all else I am off. 
We took the Hudson River steamer Adirondack, or 
rather it took us, and New York backed away as the sun 
went down behind the Jersey Palisades. To our dis- 
credit, we allow the Palisades to be destroyed. The gen- 
eral ticket agent, genial Jack Allaire, advised Capt. Roe 
to go past Sing Sing under forced draft and "let no 
guilty man escape." This steamer Adirondack is a great 
boat and grand withal. It has a length of half a mile, in- 
cluding the wake, and an enormous beam ; then there is 
the beam of the searchlight, and often we are a beam of 
the shore and canal boats ; the moon beams o'er the 
waters, there is a beam in the eyes of friend Crippen and 
a mote in mine. A puffing tug snorts off out port quarter 
and the three vertical stern lights tell us there is a tow 
behind. There are four decks, and Trimpi has a poker 
deck to swell the total and his purse. The dining room 
is on the street floor, and the kitchen is in the basement: 
way up in the back garret is a roof tank where they keep 
all kinds of water, Saratoga, Poland, Apollinaris and 
Are. Ever been there ? The water and the price are high, 
and if there is any balance the waiters are willing to keep 
it. The dude walks the carpeted decks looking for 
friends, and the bellboys see that no harm befall.", him. 
The saloon is open all night, and if any one is sleeping 
in the chairs after T2 he is not disturbel. There is a 
tie-up at Albany in the morning. There Col. and Gov. 
Roosevelt has taken another hill, where a few years ago 
one disappeared. The silk-hatted jehus importuned us, 
and for a slight consideration we were transported across 
the city. The cars have a pull, and we bowl along the 
banks of the North River mile after mile. Many logs 
float down stream, others are jammed in the current for 
a while, only to be jammed later in the pulp mills below 
The meadows are dotted with the yellow blossoms of 
dandelions, buttercups and cowslips. The hills show all 
shades of green from that of the pale poplars', tamaracks 
and birches to the dark of the hemlock, balsam and spruce. 
The bossie calves butt each other about the barns as we 
speed by, and apparently the fussy mother hen from her 
barrel-staked prison warns her puffy yellow offspring to 
keep out from under the wheels of the modern juggernaut. 
Where the mouth of the North Creek is lost in the bosom 
of the North River, the railroad ends, and if the cars 
did not stop there "the divil would be to pay." 
We take a stage for the next stage of the journey, and 
anon the loquacious driver tells us as we come to a bridge 
that last week a team and six people drove off the bridge. 
With a look of horror Mr. Burnham asks how it hap- 
pened. The chuckling hayseed said, "They drove on and 
they had to drive off." Mr. Close said, "A close call," 
and Chicken Legs said, "Chestnut." For lunch we stopped 
at a wayside hostlery, and when I entered the office the 
same old sights and remembrances were before me as are 
seen in hundreds of such haunts of the sportsman. There 
was the air-tight stove, the agreeable smell of the burning 
birch, blended with the disagreeable of the stale tobacco. 
There was a picture on the wall of the city sport standing 
proudly beside the suspended deer which the guide had 
shot; a wood-cut of the stallion and words below telling 
where he was sired and dammed. Discolorations above 
the chairtops are seen on the wall where the bear-oil 
annointed heads of the rural experts rested. The whole 
recalled to my mind a winter evening after a day of fox 
hunting that I was forced to spend in just such a place. 
A rural nimrod (he was slim enough for a ramrod) told 
how he cut loose with the right, "Bang she went," and 
then with the left, "Bang." To make it more vivid, he 
stood up and gesticulated the synonymous motions. A 
jealous rival called him a liar, a fight ensued and peace 
came with an all-round drink, and the winter evening 
ended as they went to their respective hom^s in the snowy 
paths. 
We have digressed a little, and to go back' I would tell 
you that lunch is ready. We filed into the dining room 
looking intently for country produce, and we found it, 
but like Mr. Dooley's fruits of victory, it was all canned' 
Oh, yes, they still "carry coals to Newcastle," Some- 
