FOREST AND STREAM. 
tJuLY 8, 1899, 
for some time; and one fine morning tlie United States 
frigate Susquehanna, of fifteen guns, ran into the harbor 
and .gladdened us all with a glimpse of the old flag. 
On board was Commodore Paulding, and the sight of 
the old gentleman coming ashore in his twenty-oared 
barge, the perfect movement of the oarsmen contrasting 
so sharply with the careless action of the Britisli sailors 
on the Eurydice (the discipline on board of which had 
evidently grown lax during her long stay in the harbor), 
was a sight to make a boy's bosom swell to tlie peril of 
his jacliet buttons. 
While the Susquehanna lay in the harbor my brother 
and I were one day fishing in the harbor, and a storm 
which threatened a thorough soaking coming suddenly 
up, we ran alongside the Eurydice, laying near by, and as 
politely as we knew how asked permission to come aboard 
during the coming storm. 
"Keep off^l" was the gruff response. 
Still hoping to escape the storm, we pulled for the Sus- 
quehanna, lying at quite a distance, but much nearer than 
the shore. 
Reaching her side just as the first drops of rain came 
pattering down, we quickly fastened the boat to the steps 
lowered abaft of one of her side wheels and ran up to 
the top, meeting the sentry at the deck. 
"What is wanted, boys?" said he. 
"Please, sir, can we come under the awning while it 
rains?" 
"Certainly," he replied, stepping aside, and we stepped 
■upon the deck of the first Atnerican man-of-war we had 
ever seen, i>\ i< ^ < n| 
The formidable appearance of the great guns, the ball- 
piled pyramid behind each, and the armed sentries pacing 
back and forth on her deck impressed us strangely. 
On the quarter-deck stood a group of officers in all the 
magnificence of gold-laced uniforms, and among them 
stood a fine-looking, elderly gentleman, who proved to 
be Commodore Paulding, who, walking forward, greeted 
us kindly, inquiring if we were Americans, when we told 
him the story of our coming to Nicaragua. 
"Boys," said the Commodore, "tell your father for me 
that he would better go back again to the United States 
and stay under the shadow of the Stars and Stripes." 
After a very pleasant chat with the kindly old gentle- 
map, and after witnessing the distribution of the whisky 
ration on board (which was dipped from an open barrel 
in a small cup and passed to each man at the calling of his 
name), the storm having spent itself, we returned to 
town, much pleased with our visit to the battle ship of the 
dear native land, and with the kindness of the courtly old 
Commodore. Orin Belknap. 
V.\LLEY, Washington. 
[to be continued.] 
Pioneer Days.— VL 
BY ROWLAND E. ROBINSON. 
It chanced on the next day, what they accounted a great 
piece of good luck came to our pioneers. They were out 
upon the bay to see if their late visitors were lingering 
about the shores, when their eyes v/ere attracted to a 
strange object adrift on the waters that were roughened 
by a stif¥ northwest wind. 
"It's an almighty big turtle !" Kenelm declared, as some- 
thing very like a rounded back wallowed in a trough. 
"It looks more like a buoy that's gone adrift, for it shows 
red paint," Josiah said, as the object was tossed on the 
crest of a wave, "only it don't ride high enough." 
"Wal, you've got it nigher 'n I did," the other said after 
close inspection, "for it's a cask, sure as you live. Lord 
send it is some sort o' sperits, for the Injuns hes drained 
us as dry as a paowder horn." 
The wish was granted, for it proved to be a ten-gallon 
keg of brandy, perhaps a part of the stores or cargo of 
some French craft sunk off Le Rocher Fendu, and just 
now set afloat again by the breaking up of the wreck. At 
any rate it was of fine quality, ripe and mellow with 
age. 
"That's good enough for the Commandant of Carrillon," 
said Josiah. 
"Too good for Montcalm," Kenelm Dalyrymple swore, 
for he had memories of Ft. William Henry. 
They made a secret hiding place for their treasure in a 
hollow stump, for it was too precious liquor to be guzzled 
by their ever-thirsty Waubanakee friends. 
Not many days later Josiah was fashioning a huge mor- 
tar out of an oak stuinp close by the end of the house by 
alternate burning and gouging. This was for a plumping 
mill, that, when complete, consisted of the mortar, a heavy 
pestle slung at the end of a spring pole, the butt of which- 
was fastened in the logs of the house, and all with a view 
to the coming corn crop. As he chipped away the wood or 
rekindled the fire and wet the edge of the slowly-shaping 
mortar to keep it from burning, his ear caught the .sound 
of footsteps of some large quadruped approaching along 
the footpath which ran inland to meet the thoroughfare 
that linked the scattered settlements together from Ben- 
nington to the Winooski. Wondering what visitor could 
now be coming, for he knew no deer or moose would ap- 
proach so unhesitatingly, nor Broad and Bright browsing 
the undergrowth and cropping the scant woods herbage, 
advance so regularly and rapidly. 
He wondered no less when he saw a horseman emerge 
from the woods, a man of gigantic stature whose figure 
and carriage at once struck him as familiar. But when 
the traveler called out : 
"Ho ! thou dweller in the wilderness, hast thou no wel- 
come for the stranger within thy gates?" the voice and the 
quaint phraseology left him no longer in doubt, and he 
hastened forward to give him greeting. 
•■'Why, if it hain't Colonel Ethan Allen, for all of this 
livin' world. An' haow be ye, sir? By the Lord Harry, 
if I hain't glad tu see ye, and so'll my pardner be. He's 
aout on the creek fishin' for .aour dinner ! 'Light an' come 
in, whilst I ta' keer o' your hoss." 
Kenelm had an inborn and cultivated distaste for every- 
thing that bore the name of work, yet in the free life of a 
hunter, trapper and fisher, would endure far more ex- 
posure, privation, and greater strain of muscle and never 
complain, than any regular employment entailed. A hail 
.tirought him in from his steady trolling up and down the 
cliannel, bringing with, him the result of his two hours' 
fishing, a great wide-backed, thick-fieshed pike. 
"Why, ttie Lord bless us, if it hain't Colonel Allen, an' 
you du us praoud if it hain't gittin' lost brings you here, 
an' if you be lost, why, it's aour good luck," he cried, as he 
recognized the distinguished visitor and inwardly thanked 
fortune for the means of entertainment which the lake had 
so timely provided. 
In those days not to have liquor in the house for tlie 
entertainment of a guest was thought to be more dis- 
graceful than to be without bread, and the hosts were 
truly grateful that they had this to offer their visitor, who 
havi-ng tasted it, needed no pressing. 
"Heaven be praised for preserving such good liquor 
from unworthy lips and undue dilution with water, and 
sending it for the refreshment of honest men," he fer- 
vently said, as he smacked his lips over a second glass. 
"I shall be tempted to tarry long where the waters bring 
such bountiful fare to your door. I doubt if the ravens 
furnished Elijah such fish and such fine liquor." 
"You'r' more'n welcome to 'bide as long as you please, 
Colonel," said Kenelm. "But what beats me is haow ye 
come tu find us if ye wanted tu, or why ye wanted tu." 
"I want to know every true man in the Grants, and see 
a way provided for his protection against the Yorkers. 
It is a wonder they have let you alone so long." 
"Oh, but we've bed 'em !" said Kenelm, and he and 
Josiah told of their late encounter, to Allen's great de- 
light, especiallj' as to the Indians being palmed off on the 
sui"\'eyor's party as Green Mountain Boys, He instructed 
them to notify Pangburn if they were again rfiolested, and 
assured them of protection, and that they must be ready 
to give like aid to others. But he told Josiah that he 
doubted whether his title was good, for he believed 
Capron to be a knave. 
"However, I've a pretty good understanding with the 
old Quaker surveyor, Benjamin Ferris, and I think he 
can make things easy for you with Delaplaine, for he is a 
Quaker, too, and they stick together like — ^well — ^like Green 
Mountain Boys." 
He spent the remainder of the day with them, and 
helped make half the night jovial, at which he was an 
exceedingly good hand, having no end of stories to tell 
and great capacity for strong drink. When he left them 
next morning his fast friends for life, his head was the 
clearest of the three, though the one glass that furnished 
the board had gone fullest and oftenest to his lips. 
It was a hot, hazy August day; the sun was a fiery, 
rayless ball in the brassy sky ; some ripened water-maples 
in the marsh were blazing like steadfast flames in the still 
air. A grjiy heron sagged on slow pinions in briefest 
flight to a more promising shallow where the minnows 
snapped lazily at flies resting on the rims of lilypads or 
darted away in sudden fright as an evil-looking gar pike 
swam into their retreat. A pike broke the glassy surface 
of the channel with a slow swirl of miniature whirlpools 
boring the water in the widening arch of wavelets that 
subsided in the rustling sedges and shook the blue spikes 
of pickerel weed. A brood of well-grown, full-fledged 
wood ducks flashed past, exultant in the new power of 
flight, racing with their quivering reflections. High above 
the cedar-crested cliff an eagle soared on noiseless wings, 
surveying his silent realm of wood and waters. 
In the midst of the hot stagnation of air, Kenelm and 
Josiah moved languidly on the shorn marsh, gathering 
the rustling cocks of wild hay into stilted stacks that 
looked like exaggerations of the muskrat houses which 
were already built along the outer border of the marsh. 
Far up the creek there was an approaching clank and 
splash of oars, and presently a scow appeared, manned by 
a full crew, two of whom were in the garb of Quakers, 
and one was at once recognized as their old chance 
acquaintance, the surveyor, the other a stranger of portly 
figure and benign countenance. When they met he was 
introduced as Nicholas Delaplaine. They were shown the 
canal-like approach to the shore and landing, and all went 
up to the house. 
"I'd like to see thy deed," Delaplaine said to Josiah, who 
was growing sick at heart with a presentiment of trouble. 
"I'm afeard thee's been played a scurvy trick, for I never 
sold this to any one." Then he carefully ' examined the 
deed and pronounced it a fraud, as he could easily prove. 
"Thee's got about five acres cleared, and a good house 
and fine crops growing. It's too bad, but I don't want to 
be hard on thee for what isn't thy fault, except in lack of 
caution." 
After some consideration he continued : "I'm going 
to propose to thee to give thee fifty pounds for what thee 
has done, or thee may give me fifty and keep the place, I 
giving thee a warrantee deed of it." 
"That's fair, an' I'm obleeged tu ye, Mr. Delaplaine," 
said Josiah ; "but I want you tu wait on me a month afore 
I give you an answer. I want time to go tu Connecticut an' 
back afore I can tell which I'll do." 
"That thee may have and welcome, or longer if thee 
wishes," said Nicholas. 
Dinner was got for the party, after which they re- 
turned to the falls, Josiah going Avith them, after making 
hasty preparation for his long journey. Long and weary 
it was, with a bitter reward, for his faithless sweetheart 
was married and gone, so that he had not even the poor 
satisfaction of upbraiding her for breaking her troth. 
One September evening near the expiration of the 
month he made his appearance at the cabin, travel-worn 
and heartsick, all his hopes shattered, and leaving him 
with no desire to keep his pitch. 
"I thought she was sparked tu stay." he said wearily, 
throwing himself upon the blankets, "but she jilted me. 
and of all the men in the world, you can't guess for who !" 
"No," said Kenelm. 
"For that d scoundrel Capron !" said Josiah. "Let 
the pitch go; T don't care for it no more. Women is 
just as you said they was, Kenelm. The devil take 'em 
all but my mother !" 
The Hoot of the Owl. 
Many of your correspondents speak of the hooting of 
the big owl as a nightly occurrence. My own observation 
is that their note is the warning of a thaw in the winter 
or a storm at other times. When using the log sled I al- 
ways dreaded to hear them call, for it meant slush and 
soft snow — ^always unwelcome to the logger 
Pine Tree, 
Neighbors,— IIL 
Editor f orest and Stream: 
The acquaintance of Jim and his neighbor had made 
such progress that formality ceased and invitations to 
call M'-ere unnecessary. There was even talk of putting 
a gate in the back fence. ,This was suggested by the 
women, who thought it would be so much nicer tlian 
having to go around the front way eve^y time one 
wanted to "run over for just a minute." Jim winked 
knowingly at his neighbor, as if to say that a woman's 
back hair was not always in condition for public exhibi- 
tion, and it is so inconvenient, you know, to have to 
' "tidy up a bit" to go out front, as a woman always does 
when she goes to the butcher's wagon; and a back gate 
would save that trouble when one wanted to take the 
other a sample of her latest creation in jams or jellies. 
And the men, too, found it inconvenient to climb over, 
which a woman could not do with any sort of grace, so 
it was agreed all around that a back gate would be a 
handy thing to have, 
Jim had settled himself into a comfortable position, and 
was adjusting his glasses for a quiet perusal of Forest 
AND Stream. His wife was rummaging in her work- 
basket for her thimble, and the prospect seemed good 
for a quiet evening together, when a gentle tap on the 
side door was followed by its opening, and the neighbor's 
wife walked in with a rippling little laugh preceding her 
"My! how cozy you look! My man is doing something 
to his shooting fixings, loading bullets, I guess, and he 
wanted me to ask you to go over and spend the evening 
with him," and, as if that settled it, she sat down and 
began undoing a bundle of fancy-work, a warning to 
Jim that if he did not go his reading would be made 
miserable by feminine gossip of frills and furbelows, 
which former experience had taught him to avoid, and 
when his wife held up a half-finished piece of feminine 
finery and began to talk of insertions and box pleats he 
laid down his paper and made his escape. 
His knock on the door was answered by the expected 
"Come in," and he found his neighbor, coatless and 
collarless, emerging fi'om the door of a room adjoining 
the one he entered. 
"Come in here," commanded the neighbor, and Jim 
followed him into his snuggery. As he seated himself 
in a low-cushioned chair that seemed to fit every curve 
of his body he partly faced an open-grate mantel, now 
cold, but suggestive of winter comfort, overtopped by an 
autumnal picture of a hunter, which on closer examina- 
tion proved to his host, seated on a log beside an old 
woods road, examining a grouse he had just shot, while 
a lolling, wise-faced dog lay looking on with evident 
satisfaction. Occupying one side of the room was a large 
case of mounted specimens of various game birds, hawks 
and owls, and beside it a cabinet of relics and curios. 
On the opposite side a glass case contained odds and 
ends of a sportsman's outfit, while all around the walls 
were hung with pictures, mostly of hunting scenes and 
landscapes. In the center of the room stood a large table 
covered with magazines, books and a smoker's set. "I 
am glad you came," said the neighbor. "I wanted, com- 
pany. How do you like my den?" 
"You have a pleasant retreat. I especially admire that 
picture." 
"It is from real life, and is a story in itself. The old 
road leads to a small lake that affords picturesque 
scenery and fair fishing. A camera enthusiast accom- 
panied me one day for the purpose of making some pic- 
tures of the lake. On the way I shot a grouse, and 
when the dog retrieved it I was so struck with the beauty 
of its plumage that I sat down to examine it, which 
suggested the picture. I had a painting made from the 
photograph, and it is a pleasant reminder of one of the 
incidents in my experience." 
"The camera is a happy means of retaining scenes 
that might be forgotten. If some one would invent as 
convenient a way of regaining lost opportunities his name 
would go down to posterity as a public benefactor," 
said Jim, 
"Your idea is ingenious at least, and reminds me of 
an old hunter who had lain impatiently watching a 
flight of wild geese in the hope that some would fly 
low enough for a shot. When his patience was exhausted 
he arose and cried, 'Gol darn it, if I had a balloon I'd 
fetch 'em.' " 
"Well," said Jim, "shooting from a balloon or d fly- 
ing machine may not seem more marvelous to future 
generations than hammerless and pump guns would 
have been to our forefathers. The demand for more 
rapid means of extermination is always on the increase, 
and few men nowadays would be content to return to 
muzzle-loading days, when game had a more even chance 
against its pursuers." 
"I for one cannot look back to those days without a 
feeling of regret that they are past. The younger men 
of to-day cannot appreciate it, for the breechloader came 
before their time; but I do not believe that any old- 
timer whose experience, began with the muzzleloader 
can look upon his new acquisitions with the same de- 
gree of pleasure that he did his first tools. Then his 
outfit was harder to- get, and the manner of preparation 
for its use gave him more time to think. His success 
was greater because he was more careful, and when 
he went hunting he was not so mechanical nor business- 
like. Look here!" He went to a closet and got out a 
handsome double-barreled muzzleloader. "That is my 
old friend; I used it for years before the breechloader 
became popular, and considerably since. I might use it 
to-day if I Avere not afraid of being ridiculed. It is a 
genuine Joe Manton, and cost nearly twice as much as 
my best hammerless. I give it as much care as I do my 
best guns, and think more of it. To me it is like a book 
filled with chapters of my happiest days afield, and I 
read better stories from it than are told to-day. It has 
outlived a dozen dogs, and will outlive me. And here 
is the old game bag, stained and frayed.' I might find a 
few feathers in it from birds that were killed nearly half 
a lifetime ago, and they repeat the old, old story. I have 
the shot pouch and powder flask that belong to the outfit. 
Sometimes when alone I put them on and wish the days 
were back when they were in fashion." 
* Being a contjijmtion af "Making Acquaintance," in our issue 
of .Tune 34, and "The Man Who Visits Spiker," issue July 3, 
