Au(^. 1% 1899,-'] 
FOREST AKD STRfiAM, 
pguiid of supplies reached the gold coutitry, it: was flic 
iNcw Packet, loaded gunwale deeo with her human 
fteiglit,, that carried, the miners to food and safety at St. 
^.lichaels- 
On a gravel bluffy near iDy stood a deserted cabin, and 
tliro_Ugh_ fhe roof, in lieu of a chimney, projected the 
boat's smokestack. The' owners of the cabin had in time 
gone by swung the pipe by its stay irons so that its lower 
end was within 3lt. of the ground, and constructed a 
rude hood to conduct into the pipe the smoke from their 
lire, which was built on the dirt floor. No doubt the 
fact of the smokestack had inffuenced the building of 
tiie cabin at that spot. Such opportunities are not com- 
mon 011 the Yukon, and in winter facilities for a good 
fire are of the first importance, 
Mile Posts. 
We made camp that night on one of the Jngersoll 
Islands just above the mouth of Wolverine Creek, and no 
great distance from the point where our boats had been 
lost m the ice two months before. The following morn- 
ing we were up betimes and passed the Barton party still 
in camp at a point about a mile above us. Shortly after- 
ward we had some nasty traveling along narrow channels 
back of islands, where the swift current kept the water 
open despite the fact that in places broken sections of 
ice 5ft. m thickness could be seen. The Chinook wind 
still continued and the thermometer had risen to 20 
above zero and the heat was very trying. The day before 
we had covered about twelve miles" over very rough ice; 
but this day, the first of the new year, we only put four 
miles to our credit, owing to the numberless detours and 
the diflficulty of dragging our sleds over unbroken trails 
and across islands. We had the satisfaction of knowing 
that we had done as well as could be expected under the 
circumstances, for at nightfall Ave camped within sound 
of Barton's axe. 
Our second camp was made on the same island we had 
camped on the morning before our boats were lost. It 
was a desolate spot, under naked frozen mountains, with 
a fringe of funereal spruce trees next the river. As I 
watched Mac drying out his footgear that night I recalled 
some of the lines of Archibald Lapman's fine poem 
"The Woodchopper's Hut," one of the best expressions 
nl wniter and solitude that has ever been written: 
" And only the stars above him at night, 
And the trees that creak and groan; 
And the frozen, hard-swept mountain crests. 
With their silent fronts of stone. 
As he watches the fitful glow of the fire. 
And the flickering flame upcaught, 
Cleaning his rifle or mending his moccasins, 
Sleepy and slow of thought." 
The quotation is from memory, and no doubt I have 
made mistakes. 
Peculiarities of the Trail. 
We crossed and recrossed the river thirteen times in 
going the first twelve miles as the river runs from Sel- 
kirk. Though we only logged twelve miles to our credit 
we had undoubtedly walked nearly twice that distance, 
ihis was not an exceptional record for the part of the 
river between Selkirk and Five Fingers. For long dis- 
tances the trail averaged one crossing of the river for every 
mile of advance. The crossings were generally nearly at 
right angles with the course of the river, and at first 
were frequently half a mile or more in length. The trail 
never led directly up the center of the river. 
Once, as we were following the shore of an island, we 
came to a mass of ice 20ft. in height, and here the trail 
turned abruptly to the right and crossed over to the 
mainland, where there was a cut bank and a jam every whit 
4s bad as the one the trail had tried to avoid. Appar- 
ently the track was laid out by a blind man. Once the 
cut bank w-as gained it turned directly about and crossed 
back to the island, reaching it at a point only a few yards 
above the place it left it, after a detour of nearly a mile. 
Examples of this kind might be multiplied almost in- 
definitely. At Cassiar Bar the detour was exactly dupli- 
cated. Some dugout cabins on the west bank were prob- 
ably the cause of the needless lengthening in this case. 
No one seems to think of bettering the trail. The night 
after going over the Cassiar detour we caught up with 
the Henning party, and I said to one of the men: 
•'When you passed those cabins to-day and back-tracked 
on your trail to the east bank again, why didn't you go 
back a little and put a bush on the trail and make a cut- 
ofT? You would have saved us a mile of walking and it 
would not have taken five minutes' time." 
The man grinned and replied in a tone that showed he 
felt sure of his ground: 
"For the same reason, partner, that you neglected to 
do it. A¥hy didn't you think of all those sore-footed 
chaps that are following on your trail?" 
Storyof tfis Trail. 
Frederick Palmer, who has written a very readable 
book about the Klondike, published by Scribners, writes 
of this trail two months later: 
"We would pay our respects with some bitterness to 
the man Avho had made this strange and lonely trail, 
■ though in better moments w-e were willing to admit that 
he was a pioneer and pathfinder. As soon as the ice 
would bear him, when the wind had drifted the snow 
here and there and lifted the slush ice up to be frozen 
into rifts, with his dogs and sleds he set his face toward 
the coast, winding in and out between these rifts, back 
and forth across the stream and along its banks, wher- 
■ ever he could find the best footing; and all who came 
afterward followed in his footsteps. He was making a 
path for himself and not for us, and it was to his inter- 
est, if not to ours, to have it as crooked as the track of a 
snake, and on the most crooked of rivers at that." 
The description of the trail is all right, but the his- 
tory is not altogether accurate. The men who made the 
trail were the refugess who left Dawson in boats and on 
foot before the river closed, driven out by threatened 
starvation. These men crossed the river backward and 
forward where the ice was jammed, and where the river 
was open they followed the narrow rim of shore ice. At 
times they slipped into the icy water and their sleds were 
lost or broken and their tents and blankets thrown away. 
At night they built great fires and stood or sat between 
them, and they carried their axes and scanty supplies on 
their backs and endured all the sufiferings of slow death 
by cold and hunger. 
Two such men entered out cabin one day while Mac 
was alone and without a word helped themselves to all 
the cooked food in sight, eating it ravenously like beast,s 
that expected to be driven away. After they had finished 
thoy left without asking for more or leaving their thanks 
for what they had eaten. Some of these poor devils be- 
came so emaciated as a result of the cold and inabihty to 
assimilate their food that they looked like the pictures on 
exhibition a short time since of the plague victims in 
India or the starving people of Cuba. 
These were the pioneers of the trail. They could not 
t;i,kc the shortest course from point to point becausi; of 
open water and other obstacles that did not exist kitcr. 
The men vvho came after followed in their footsteps partly 
because they could not be sure that the detours were not 
still necessary, and partly because it is easier to follow 
than to originate. One result of this was that nearly all 
the smooth stretches of ice between islands or in raid- 
channel were missed, because when the pathfinders came 
along these places had not yet frozen over. Another re- 
sult was that as the water in the river grew less the main 
body of ice settled, leaving the rim of shore ice either 
tilting at greater or less angles with the horizontal, or 
else separated by sheer drops of 6ft. or more. All along 
the edge the ice was badly cracked and the water fre- 
quently came up through and soaked the snow, greatljr 
increasing the danger of frozen feet. It was a difficult and 
tedious matter to drag the sleds over these inclines and 
up the perpendicular faces, and there was always the dan- 
ger of the ice benches breaking of? with the sledger on 
them or of accident through falling into crevices con- 
cealed by the snow. J. B. Burnham. 
Pioneer Days.— XIL 
Retfeat from Ticonderoga. 
Carlton's fleet got but little beyond Crown Point when 
a strong south wind set in and continued with increasing 
fury, until he, despairing of getting any further, weighed 
anchor and sailed for Canada. 
During the winter Josiah Hill lingered about the forts 
and neighboring settlements, leading an aimless, vaga- 
bond sort of life, now chopping, now trapping, until the 
following summer brought IBurgoyne's overwhelming in- 
vasion, when all non-combatants departed and all able- 
bodied patriots joined the army. Warner's earnest ap- 
peal brought Josiah, with many another, to the defense 
of the fortress which he had helped to capture. Bur- 
goyne's army had invested the place, and it was now well 
known that if he should occupy the strangely neglected 
heights of Sugar Loaf or Mount Defiance, Ticonderoga 
would be at his mercy; but Gen. St. Clair hoped that 
an assault might be decided upon, for this he felt con- 
fident he could repel., 
Upon indications t'hat guns were being hauled to the 
top of the mountain a council of war was held and it was 
decided to evacuate Ticonderoga and Mount Independ- 
ence. Night had fallen; lanterns twinkled on the crest of 
Mount Defiance like stranded stars; shouts of com- 
mand, the challenge of sentinels, the rumble of gun car- 
riages could be faintly heard coming from the British 
lines; and now and then the fierce yell of the Indians, 
more fearful than the panther's scream, as they celebrated 
some preparatory rite of warfare. 
The Continental troops were outside the walls of Ticon- 
deroga, some already within those of Independence; 
small detachments were crossing the long, floating bridge 
and orderlies were hurrying to and fro. In the laxness 
of discipline which was but too common in the Revohi- 
tionary armies Josiah was wandering at will, listening to 
the various sounds which came from the British lines 
and watching the glimmering lights on Mount Defiance, 
when he heard approaching voices and slipped into a 
shadow to escape observation, and so unwittingly became 
an eavesdropper. 
"Yes, the troops are all ready to m_ove," said one voice. 
"The Yankees of the Grants are all inside the fort?" 
the other asked. 
"All but Warner's," was the answer. 
"They're likely to be gobbled," said the other with a 
chuckle, "and that would be an easj^ way of di-sposing of 
a verj^ troublesome element and make matters easier for 
our New York friends," 
"Warner's regiment will be the rear guard, so if we 
are pursued" 
"Yes, I see" and the voices passed out of hearing. 
Josiah had heard enough to satisfy him that some 
treachery was intended against his people, and went at 
once to the gate, where he gave the countersign and was 
admitted. Inquiring for Col. Robinson, he was told 
that officer was sick and could not be seen. As he stood 
at the door of the quarters, contriving some means of 
giving warning, an oflicer hastily approached it with a 
pitcher of water. 
"Major," he said, "I want tu speak tu the /I^olonel 
"baout suthin' 'at consarns him mightily!" 
"Well, what is it?" the officer demanded, curtly. 
"I can't speak on't here. Le' me go inside." 
"Come in, then," said the other with some show of 
annoyance, after eyeing him sharply. Josiah followed 
him into the barrack room, where Col. Robinson lay 
on a pallet, looking pale and distressed. 
"Here's a man wants to speak to you. Colonel, an' 
won't take 'No' for an answer," said the Major. "His 
name is Hill and he belongs to Warner's regiment." 
"Well, what is it, my man?" Robinson asked, and 
Josiah told what he had overheard in the fewest words. 
"By God! That tallies exactly with Avhat I've just 
seen!" the Major blurted out. 
"'Who do you think they were that j'ou overheard?" 
"I w'ouldnt want tu swear to 't, but I think it was 
the General, for one; t'other I didn't know." 
"Well, we'll block their little game," said Robinson, 
rising painfully. "Major, let the men be paraded under 
arms, with their knapsacks. Do it quietly. I'm obliged 
to you, Hill, and won't forget it." 
The regiment was soon in line and marched through 
the gate, when, after a brief halt, it took its way toward 
the head of the bridge. 
"What is this regiment moving without orders for?" 
Gen. St, Clair demanded, in hot haste. "Halt, battalion!" 
"Battalion, m.arch!" cried Robinson. "It means, sir, 
that we're not to be caged like .rats." 
"I'll order yon fired on, if you don't hvih !" St. Clair 
.■^^ormed. 
"Fire, and be damned!" said the Puritan colonel. "Bat- 
talion, prime; load; fix bayonets; shoulder arms; forward, 
march!" and tlic regiment marched steadily on toward 
the bridge, wdiile other troops in the route moved out of 
the way. 
The long triple column of ununiformed rnilitiainen 
went swaying across the undulating bridge, Josiah stick- 
ing close to its rear until the sharp slope of Independence 
was mounted, when the regiifient was halted near War- 
ner's, in which our straggler took his place. 
All was bustle and confusion, men singly and in squads 
hurrying in all directions; here a party burying black- 
smith tools and intrenching implements, th^re another 
with teams carting bags of grain from storehouses and 
em])tying them into fissures of the rocks, and now the 
main army came pouring across the bridge, through the 
fort and out upon the road which led tOAvard Castleton. 
They had nearly all efYected a crossing, apparently un- 
discovered by the enemy, when a rattle-brained Canadian 
settler came running bareheaded to a wooden house in- 
side the earthworks. 
"Dat domn hoi' Anglais' he ant goin' gat mah haouse! 
No, not not'ing in it!" he cried, lighting a torch at a 
smoldering camp-fire and rushing into the house. 
He threw the contents of a straw bed upon the floor, 
thrust the torch into it, and in a moment the building 
Avas in a blaze, and the insignificant house grew into a 
tower of red flame. The mounting flames tlirew a lurid 
glare over everything, revealing the scattered groups, 
the serried ranks, the crowded bridge, the buff and blue 
uniforms of the Continentals Availing at the further end, 
the gray Avails of the fort, the Stars and Stripes still float- 
ing above them, and the disturbed lake shimmering in the 
fitful glare of the conflagration. 
All was confusion — almost rout — and this was increased 
by a shot from Defiance Avhistling through space_ and 
plunging into the channel at the base of the cliff of Mt. 
Independence before the sullen boom of the cannon's re- 
port shook the air. 
The rattle of drums calling to arms; the shrill scream- 
ing of the fife, the blare of bugles, announced the begiri- 
ning of pursuit by Frazier's British regulars and Rei- 
desel's Brunswickers. The forest-paled road Avas choked 
Avith crowding troops — Continentals, Rangers and mili- 
tiamen inextricably mixed — officers shouting and curs- 
ing in vain endeavors to restore order out of chaos. 
Robinson's regiment struck into the road and St. Clair 
again threatened to fire upon it. There was an ominous 
chick of cocked muskets and the threat was not executed. 
Warner's coolness and commanding presence were of 
most avail, and at last the column fell into orderly and 
rapid retreat, his regiment holding Mt. Independence 
till the last company had taken its route. 
Then, as the timbers of the burning house fell and 
smoldered, casting fitful gleams amid intervals of gloom 
upon the scene *of desertion and desolation, the brave 
Green Mountain Boys took up their dogged retreat into 
the shadoAvs of the forest, bitterly cursing the neglect of 
defenses Avhich had caused the abandonment of the strong- 
hold Avhich but two years before they had Avrested from 
the enemy. 
Arriving at Hubbardton, the weary army halted for a 
brief rest. When, in the morning, it resumed its retreat. 
Col. Warner was left with his own, Herrick's and Hale's 
regiments to occupy the position until all stragglers had 
come' in. and then to keep one and a half miles in the 
rear of the main army. 
"There is my fort," said Tom Torrey, a man of middle 
age standing next to Josiah in the ranks, and pointing 
to a neat log house in the midst of a new farm; "an' I 
hope the garrison's left it. No, by George!" he contin- 
ued, anxiously, after a moment of intent Avatching. 
"Their flag's a-flyin' yet," as he saw the smoke flaunting 
from the chimney. "It hain't no place for a Avomern an' 
children naow. I don't see AA'hy they hain't cleared abut!" 
Just About a Boy*— XXIIL 
The summer days were changing to autumn and here 
and there a bit of brown had encroached upon the green- 
ery Avhen the boy and I pulled up in town "doAvn in the 
States" again after our long trip into the desert. We 
were browner and probably a bit healthier than AA'hen Ave 
started, for the dry, pure air of the desert country is a 
balm for the outdoor man, and we had breathed our fill. 
From Ward's ranch all the way home Ave had gone 
through about the same kind of country and had about 
the same experiences that had been our portion on the 
outward trip, and as a result the boy who came back 
Avas a well seasoned young person, able to take care of 
himself in the gray wilderness of sage and bare buttes — 
of alkali AVater and quicksand — with the best cow puncher 
Avho lived there. 
He had mastered the mysteries of "throAving a rope" 
until he could catch a horse off-hand. He had sent lead 
across the landscape after deer and antelope until he had 
become satisfied from the abundance of shooting. 
Horned toads, chamond-back rattlers and prairie dogs 
had become too commonplace to give more than a pass- 
ing glance to, and noAV the youngster Avanted to "rest up" 
along the little river again. 
After all, it is the first love that is the best, although 
we may not think so sometimes, and thus become Aveaned 
HAvay by the novelty and ncAvness of the unknown and 
untried; but when the unknown becomes known to us 
it seems commonplace and Ave find ourselves wishing for 
the things that we knew so well before. 
The boy was undergoing this change of heart as Ave 
came nearer home, and Avhen Ave reached the top of the 
hill he had pulled up short as the sun hung Ioav above 
the valley of the little river and the little tOAvn that spread 
up the slope of the eastern hillside — the place that the 
boy knew so well — the place Ave called "home." 
What a meaning that little word has to the Avanderer! 
I think, perhaps, the boy felt the stress of it, and yet 
did not knoAv what it Avas or why he felt it; but he looked 
long and earnestly at the scene — at the familiar house.'; 
and the shining river that AA^ound about among the fringe 
of trees in the center of the A'^alley. 
