FOHieST AND STREAM. ^ 
4 83 
morning, when he was found by one of the negroes, who 
finished him with a tobacco stick, and appropriated the 
hen. 
A smart shower coming up about noon wet the dry 
leaves and made an ideal afternoon for squirrels. Accom- 
panied by my boy, I set forth to try for the necessary 
ingredient for one of Aunt Ellen's "Brunswick stus." 
We wandered along quietly down through the woods, 
keeping an unused road. Governor was walking to my 
right, a little in the rear, when suddenly, from the tail of 
my eye, I saw him rise in the air like a big black cricket 
and light three or four feet out in the brtish. 
Turning quickly about, I discovered the cause of his 
sudden start lying in the road a few feet from where he 
liad made his astonishing leap. It was a large copperhead 
snake that a decided moderation in the temperature had 
tempted forth. Big and ugly as he was, he was too 
much overcome by the lethergy of the cold season to be at 
all dangerous, and paid no attention to us, further than 
the usual tongue darting incident to the entire serpent 
species. 
Blowing off his head with a charge of shot, we resumed 
our interrupted hunt. We found our first squirrel in a 
hickory "cutting," and killed him with dispatch and ease. 
The next hickory yielded a pair, killed "right and left." 
A little further on we found an old fellow traveling across 
country, from tree to tree, and as he ran out the limb of a 
big white oak, I knocked two feet loose with the right 
barrel, but had to repeat the dose before he would come 
down. 
He lit running, with my little black sportsman hot after 
him. It was a pretty race, and I let them have it out. 
Down through the woods they went, the squirrel barely 
keeping ahead of the stick that was cutting the leaves just 
behind him. Twice he made a tree, but was kiiocked 
olf before he could climb out of reach, and finally was 
knocked out by a side lick as he tried to jump a log, and 
brought to me in triumph by the panting boy. 
We had enough fur, and I concluded to swing round 
through the fields and try to put up a covey of birds. 
Just before leaving the woods a flicker, or yellowham- 
nier, lit in a tree, within range, and I concluded to kill 
him for the boy. He dropped at the crack of the gun and 
lay apparently dead, until Governor had run to, him, and 
was stooping to pick him up, when with a rush he rose 
and flew entirely out of sight and hearing. Too much sur- 
prised for speech, the boy stood looking after the bird 
until it disappeared, and then, apparently thinking that I 
was due an explanation, turned and said: "You ain' kill 
him. sub. You ain' tech him. You des sca'ed him." 
We found the birds, and scattered them in a good piece 
of stubble. One stopped on the flush, and another left a 
few feathers, but Avas able to carry away what we wanted 
of him. 
An unwary hawk pitched out of a thick tree a few min- 
utes later, and was clean killed at the first shot; but the 
boy made several pilgrimages around it, viewing it from 
all sides and fully assuring himself that it was quite dead 
before offering to pick it up to carry in to show to the 
enemy of its race, the good old cook. Four birds were all 
that we succeeded in bringing to bag after this, but these, 
together with our squirrels, made a very respectable show- 
ing for a short round. Arriving at the house and finding 
enough sunshine left, I concluded to photograph the boy 
with my kodak. It was his first experience, but his 
natural dignity made him a fine siibject, as he stood 
proudly erect with the gun on his shoulder and the 
birds in his hand. His mother arrived on the scene just 
as I had made all preparations, and anxiously inquired 
of my hostess : "What dat man doin' to Gov'nah?" When 
informed that Governor was having his picture taken, 
she proceeded to protest vigorously and volubly. "Why, 
Mis' Lady, doan you all go an take Gov'nah's picter an' he 
in his ole close. Ain' got no stockin's on, neither, an' 
only one gallus. Good Lawd, Mis' Lady ! lemme go an' 
put his good close on him, den he look like sumboddy. 
Come heah, Gov'nah. Come heah, sub ! You heah me ? 
I ain' goin' have you look like dat in a picter ; hit be 
scan'l'us." The little fellow stood like an image through 
the length of this protest, never so much as winking an 
eye, and before the protest was completed his "picler was 
took." His mother was nearly inconsolable, but a promise 
to take him again in his "good close" finally appeased her. 
The active pleasures of the day now gave way to the 
quiet of the cool evening. My hostess and I strolled down 
the winding road leading from the house to the "quarters," 
as the cluster of hoxises occupied by the laborers on the 
plantation continued to be called. The dense woods 
bordered one side of the road, the trees blazing in their 
remnant of autumn foliage, and on the other side lay the 
sloping meadow where the lowing herd, restless with 
the expectation of evening attention, stood waiting near 
the bars. 
An old negro woman in her cabin door wailed and ' 
quavered a song, a weirdly sweet old minor air, full of 
music and pathos to those born and bred in "Dixie Land," 
but calculated to start "goose flesh" all over the anatomy 
of one not to the "manner bom." 
The field hands were coming up the lane from work, 
bringing in the teams ; and their happy shouts and laughter 
mingling with the merry jingles of the trace chains, all 
combined to make known that the day's Avork was done, 
and the hour of rest at hand. 
The last red bars of fading sunlight fell across the 
clear still surface of the ice pond, turning it to molten 
gold. 
The distant tinkle of musical sheep bells, with now and 
then the bleat of a straying lamb, came faintly up from 
the woods pasture ; while from the direction of the house, 
clear and shrill, was heard the weird scream of the pea- 
fowl, seeking its nightly roosting place in the great white 
oak tree. 
All of these homely sights and sounds combmed to 
make a pastoral scene dear to the heart of one in touch 
with the beauties of rural life. 
Down by the great log tobacco barn, where the air was 
fragrant with the sweet savor of the drying weed, we 
met old Uncle John, the oldest darky on tlie plantation, 
and a real old-timer. His kindly old wrinkled face was 
beautiful, shining through the halo of snowy hair and 
beard. He was moving slowly toward us, leaning heavily 
on his hickory stick. 
"Good evenin', young mistis' and marstah; I proud to 
see you, an' hope you is well," was his greeting, as with 
hat in hand he bends still lower his poor old bent body in a 
bow full of natural grace and courtliness. We respond 
to his greeting, and my companion inquires as to his 
health. "Tol'ble, mistis, des tol'ble. thank you," is the 
reply. (The real old darky never gets beyond "toler- 
able.") "1 ain' rite pert dis evenin', but I bettah den I 
has been. Yistiddy I was rite poo'ly, ma'm, rite poo'ly." 
Expressing regret at his indisposition, and the hope that 
he may continue to improve, we receive another low 
bow, accompanied with: "Thank you, ma'm, an sub; 
thank you both. Good evenin'." 
The twilight is deepening when returning we draw near 
the house, and the whippoorwill is calling from the grove. 
"All the world a solemn stillness holds," and "the day is 
done." Lewis Hopkins. 
Antler, 
Aktlee is dead. The gentle, kindly old man has gone to 
his reward, and desolation reigns in the little log 
cabin up among the Tennessee Mountains. 
He longed to go, but the strong vitality which carried 
him through eight}'--six years was reluctant to give him 
up, and he passed away only after a long and painful 
illness. 
One of the most cherished names of his declining years 
was that of the immortal Ncssmuk, and we doubt not 
but that if he had his choice in the hereafter it would 
be to pitch his tent alongside that of his old friend, the 
poet wood.sman. 
In an April, '97, number of Fokest and Stream is the 
brief sketch of his life, and photograph taken at that 
time. 
Mr. Stratton was a litaai of quiet and unassuming man- 
ner, a kind and obliging neighbor, beloved and respected 
by all who knew him; a student of nature in all her as- 
pects, he loved his moimtain home, the woods and birds, 
the blue peaks and valleys to be seen from his door. 
In his early life, as a pioneer among the Alleghanies, he 
E. L. STRATTON — ANTLER — 1812-1899. 
was undoubtedly a Nirrirod of no mean ability, and a 
true sport.sman, and though this characteristic was 
prominent to the last, yet he realized that he had the 
weight of many years upon him, that he had long since 
reached the land "where 'tis always afternoon." 
Mr. Stratton was a worthy member of the Forest and 
Stream family, and one of nature's noblemen. 
Camerambler. ' 
BiHCAVNE BjVV, Fla 
With the portrait sent by our correspondent in 1896, we 
quote from his letter: 
"In 1874. being in very poor health, Mr. Stratton moved 
to the mountains of East Tennessee, locating at Grand 
View, a small town on the eastern edge of Walden's 
Ridge and overlooking the Tennessee Valley. 
"Here in a sheltered spot, and near a good spring that 
does not fail him in the driest season, he built his log 
cabin, and here you will find him to-day. The pure, brac- 
ing mountain air of this mild climate proved to be exactly 
the thing for his failing lungs, and after a residence here 
of twenty-two years he is still very much alive. 
"For one who is looikng for an all-the-year-round 
climate there is none better in America than these moun- 
tain heights of East Tennessee; neither too far North nor 
Sotith, where the winters afe mild and open, and usually 
no snowfall. 
"In summer the thermometer rarely registers above 90 
degrees, and the nights are always so cold that a man feels 
the need of a warm blanket, and can sleep his eight hours 
every night. 
"The water is pure and soft, and malaria and mosqui- 
toes are things tmknown. 
"Such my friend has found here, and he affirms that he 
'will not go back on the bridge that has carried him safe- 
ly over.' 
"Though past the age for active participation in his life- 
long pastime of deer hunting, he dearly loves to stir up 
the back-log in his capacious fireplace, and seated in a 
splint-bottomed chair before its genial blaze recount his 
many adventures of long ago. in which (I suspect) his 
trusty rifle rarely barked in vain. 
"Mr. Stratton is a great admirer of the writings of the 
immortal Nessmuk, and was a regular correspondent of 
his for years previous to his death, and never tires of dis- 
cussing that woodsman. 
"Though long past the alloted three score and ten, our 
friend is as light of heart as a boy,' and for a man of his 
years remarkably active, -and "fa his tramps around the 
mountains might tire out many a younger man." 
|A Southern National Park. 
A movement is on foot for the establishment of a na- 
tional park in the Southern mountains, the chief range 
of which is known as the Blue Ridge. This is almost 
in the center of what may be called the old States. North 
and South Carolina, West Virginia, Tennessee, Alabama, 
Georgia, all unite in this range of mountains, which 
is the watershed of a large number of large rivers 
which flow imp the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico, 
and in which there are countless clear cold streams which 
are the homes of the speckled trout and other game 
fish which exist in abundance. This extensive tract 
reaches from Asheville on the east to middle Georgia and 
Alabama on the west, and to the low country on -the. 
south and north. 
It is a sea of mountains which, viewed from the top of 
the highest peak, appears like the great ocean with its 
rolling billows, a very sea of waves, and valleys, lying 
in confusion, and all covered by the most valuable tim- 
ber, 10 per cent, only of the land being occupied by 
farms, and only 10 per cent, of these lands being cleared. 
In fact, the view as it appears from the highest points, 
5,000 to 6,000 feet above sea level, is only marked here 
and there by a clearing, the rest of the landscape being 
one continuous mass of forest. Mountains and hills in 
ranges cross each other, and other lesser ranges cross 
these, making an endless ocean of forest, divided into in- 
terminable waves, until it is possible to distinguish the 
major peaks only as they appear above the lower ranges. 
Of these greater peaks there are these : 
Black Rock, 4,500 feet; Wildcat Ridge, 4,200; Whittier 
Mountain, 4,931 feet ; Whiteside— so named from a gigan- 
tic perpendicular cliff of feldspar, 2,000 feet in height on 
its face — 5,000 feet; Shortoff Mottntain, 5,000 feet; Yel- 
low Mountain, 5,132 feet; Black Mountain, 4,900; Hog 
Back, 5,100 feet, and many others over 4,000 feet. In 
the midst of these the town of Highlands nestles in a 
gap 4,100 feet above sea level, and from this clean, charm- 
ing and most delightful and salubrious town all these 
peaks mentioned may be reached by an easy horseback or 
buggy ride. From these heights one sees below the men- 
tioned peaks an ocean of verdant lesser mountains, in 
ranges crossed and recrossed many times, and down the 
valleys separating these ranges pour in rapids and cas- 
cades, white with foam and musical with liquid purling 
and crashing, the uncountable small brooks which rush 
down rapids or tumble over the rocky precipices. The 
uncountable springs and small streams unite to form the 
rivers, and these form a succession of rapids as they 
tumble down the heights which rise from the lowlands 
fifty miles below. The town mentioned is in the center 
of this great expanse of mountain and forest and ver- 
dure and flowers, and the county of which Highlands is 
the second important town has seventeen peaks that 
exceed 5,000 feet in height above sea level. 
The importance of this mountain region with its dense 
forests and enormous watershed, surpassing all other 
localities in the United States for its volume — for the 
annual fall of rain is some years a hundred inches, and 
occasionally has measured by gauge a himdred and 
thirty inches — cannot be over-estimated. This enormous 
quantity of water soaks into the land covered by the dense 
forests, and thus gradually supph'es the rivers below, the 
waters of which fertilize the soil and supply the power 
for hundreds of mills in every direction. This water 
power in North Carolina alone amounts to over one 
million horse-power. 
From business acquaintance with the value of the tim- 
ber, I estimate the existing supply over two hundred 
square miles, each way from this center, to be worth at 
least $10 an acre as soon as it may be brought under 
the supervision of capable forest supervision ; and as this 
existing supply is made available the new growth under 
scientific culture will have ah annual value of at least half 
this amoitnt. From hoop poles up to magnificent white 
and yellow pines, poplars, oaks, chestnut, hickory, the 
valuable black birch, and cherry, and with the dog woods, 
locust and smaller timber, this value may easily be 
doubled as soon as the right attention is given and in- 
telligent forestry is established. Every tree native to the 
United States, except the live oak, grows in this region, 
while hundreds of flowering bushes and plants, grown 
elsewhere as garden products, embower the woods with a 
blaze of brilliant color in the season. 
Game of all the smaller sorts abounds all over. Deer, 
bears, and all the birds abound, and even wild hogs — ^the 
produce of swine which have escaped from the scattered 
farms — are quite numerous in the denser laurel thickets. 
California trout, which I introduced twelve j'ears ago, 
have spread all over this region, and have reached the 
Tennessee River — some of them in my waters are 10 or 12 
pounds weight — while the common brook trout are taken 
of 3 pounds weight. 
In short, the necessities of the case are such that this 
unsurpassed region in the eastern part of the United 
States, if for the safety of the water .supply alone, de- 
mands that the Federal Government should acquire at 
least two hundred square miles of .this region, if only for 
the preservation of it from destruction, and the conse- 
quent vast damage to the public interest from the moun- 
tains to the ocean. Many readers of Forest and Stream 
have visited this region, and will vouch for all these 
statements. But by a little attention to the protection and 
increase of game, this locality might rettirn a good in- 
terest on the whole cost of its acquisition and mainte- 
nance, from the income from licenses to hunt and fish, if 
it were thought reasonable to charge for these privileges. 
As it is, one of the most valuable and interesting re- 
gions of the United State? is going to destruction, and 
before long will be a desert washed by floods to the bare 
rocks, the unexcelled forests will be made a prey to the 
flames, vast floods pouring from the bare rocky surface 
will sweep away the low country, and droughts will pre- 
vail where now all this region is copiously watered by the 
droppings of the clouds, which come up from the ocean 
on every side, and at the mere touch of the cold mountain 
tops these shed their burdens of water in the form of 
showers, which protect and enrich, instead of devastat- 
ing the whole region otherwise by their unchecked and 
resistless flow down the mountain sides. The occasion 
presents itself now to the Government to secure at a small 
cost all these advantages in perpetuity, to save vast losse* 
