tMARCH If, 
engineer to reach the propeller during the night. At high 
water the ship was dragged still higher up on the beach, 
and as the tide fell the work of repairing began. 
As it was evident that this would take a good part 
of the day, almost the whole party started on an excur- 
sion to Bom Point, across the channel from Hawkins 
Island. There were two launches, two canoes and one 
skiff, with packers, stewards and other helpers. When 
the point was reached two tents were^ put up/ fires were 
built, and luncheon cooked. The party scattered out 
through the spruce forest, and over a wide bog which 
lay at the head of the little bay, and gathered plants. 
Some of the bird collectors took specimens, among which 
was a spruce partridge. Many salmon were jumping in 
the little bay, into which the tide water estuary flowed. 
It was a pleasant stopping place, and the children and 
young girls had great times frying bacon over the fire 
and cooking flapjacks. Toward 4 o'clock the steamer's 
whistle was heard, the boats were lowered, and the small 
fleet set out to meet the vessel. 
After all were once more on board, the ship steamed 
for a few hours, finally reaching a little landlocked bay 
by tall mountains, where there is a copper mine. There 
appears to be a vein in the side of a 2,000-foot vertical 
cliff, and the miners have run a tunnel 250 feet into the 
cliff under it. The ore was discovered in the slide at 
the foot of the cliif, and the discoverers, in order to 
actually locate the vein, were obliged to lower a man 
with a rope from the top of the cliff, in order to ascertain 
whether the ore really came from the spot from which 
it appeared to come. At present, as the mining expert ob- 
served, the actual vein could only be reached with a pack 
train of bald eagles. 
From Landlocked Bay the ship ran back to the head 
of Glacier Bay, in Prince William Sound, to pick up 
the party left there. It was about midnight when the 
ship reached the place where they were supposed to be, 
and it was not until much whistling had been done that 
their boat was made out, and they came on board. They 
had had a good time, and among other things had meas- 
ured the front of the glacier, which was four and three- 
tenths miles wide. 
On a nunatak in the great glacier at the head of 
Glacier Bay, Mr. F. W. Coville and others saAv a white 
goat. It was first seen Avalking down the slope of a 
smaller peak of the mountain, above timber line, and 
later they watched it walking about the steep, rough 
slope of the highest point of the mountain. On the smaller 
peak they found the goat's bed. The men shouted at 
him, and when they did so he stopped and looked at 
them, and then went on again. 
The vessel's prow was now turned toward the un- 
known inlet, and early the next morning the tooting of 
the steamer's whistle showed that she was near the party 
who had gone ashore there. They came aboard before 
very long, having successfully accomplished their task, 
although the weather was against them, the iog and rain 
cutting off much of the view. No large game was seen, 
nor any sign, but there were many ptarmigan. 
Prince William Sound had now been pretty thoroughly 
explored, and we steamed away for the town of Homer, 
in Cook's Inlet. The day was threatening and rainy, with 
a little occasional fog in the morning, but soon after noon 
it grew brighter and the sun came out. One or two stop- 
pages were made in order that the mining expert might 
look at certain copper leads that shoAved on the shore. 
The ore was good, but the mines wholly undeveloped. 
Toward night occasional distant glimpses were had of 
great glaciers, too far off to be distinctly seen. The 
weather was fine, and except the ground swell, there was 
no motion to the ship. 
The next morning, after a pleasant night, was bright 
and beautiful. Before us Kachemak Bay opened out, and 
a glimpse was had of the town of Homer, a few lonely 
houses built on the end of a long sand spit, projecting 
from the northwest side of the bay. The superb moun- 
tain, Iliamna. is visible as a white cone far to the north. 
_ At Saldovia, not far from Homer, but on the south 
side of Kachemak Bay, was camped Mr. Dall DeWees, of 
Canon City, Colo., who was hunting here. His reports 
of the game were eagerly listened to, although the hunt- 
ing ground was so far away that there was no prospect 
that any of our ship's comoany would have an opportunity 
to reach them. Mr. DeWees stated that the sheep are 
about four days distant from the bay, but that moose 
can be. found at half that distance. A few days before 
Mrs. DeWees had killed two sheep and a bear, and after 
she had finished hunting, he took many photographs of 
the sheep. The call was an interesting' one, and settled 
the question of hunting in this neighborhood, since, of 
course, it would be impracticable to keep the ship and its 
company lying here for a couple of weeks while hunters 
went back into the interior to gratify their desire to see 
this little known game. 
Soon after the party came on board the anchor was 
lifted, and we sailed away for Uyak Bay, Kadiak Island, 
to land a party of bear hunters. As we passed across the 
mouth of Cook's Inlet, the volcanoes Iliamna, Redoubt 
and St. iVugustine were seen, and steam or smoke was 
observed to be rising from the peak of Iliamna. 
Kadiak is a large island lying south of the Alaska 
Peninsula, and quite near it. Its mean temperature is 
42 degrees Fahrenheit, and the winters are but little 
colder than those say of Philadelphia or New York. 
Cattle turned out on Chirikof Island, near here, have 
done well, and three or four cows have increased in a 
few years to twenty or twenty-five. Sheep turned out 
by the Alaska Commercial Company, on one island, in 
summer, and changed to another for winter feed, have 
done well. Thirty sheep give fifteen or twenty for food 
during the year, and still keep up their numbers. 
G. B. G. 
In the Philippines. 
San Felipe, Philippine Islands, Jan. 25. — Editor Forest 
and Stream: We are in delightful quarters in an old con- 
vent on the banks of the San Juan. The swift Pasig is 
in full view to the west, and beyond it the tall spires of 
churches and cathedrals in and about the walled city of 
Manila loom up in the soft mistv atmosphere of this de- 
lightful country. 
. I say delightful, because the winter climate is soft and 
pnld. We have had no wind nor rain since landing here 
in December. About us is the picturesque village of San 
Felipe, numbering about 4,000 inhabitants. 
The people are modest, neat and industrious. The 
laundry business is carried on here on a tremendous scale. 
But they need watching all the same. At our outposts 
troops of men, women and children are daily searched to 
prevent smuggling to the insurrectors. 
Firing is heard on our Hnes at night, for the natives try 
to slip through between crtitposts. 
When we walk through the village the children greet 
us merrily, and the villagers invite ixs into their quaint 
bamboo thatched houses and regale us with cigarettes, 
fruit and sweetmeats. The bells in the old Spanish con- 
vents and asylums are forever clanging. The roads are 
worn down in ruts by the numberless carts and sleds that 
for generations have passed over them. When we desire 
to visit town, we don our revolvers and hail a boat and 
glide smoothly and swiftly down the Pasig past hamlets 
and walled ruins. All about in this country are old rock 
foundations of former habitations. Rock hewn wells are 
found everywhere. One night I took six men and went 
three miles beyond our outpost, retitrning after daylight. 
We did not encounter any hostiles, btit saw the sinoke of 
their camp-fire in the hills beyond. The fighting con- 
tirmes, but it is mostly bushwhacking. Our regiment is 
in expectation of a move to the Island of Mindaneo, to the 
south. L. S. K. 
Fred Mather. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Inclosed find my promise to pay for $4. The pink 
slip on your production warns me that I am running some 
risk. Kindly hand the promise to the bursar and ask 
him not to threaten to take out the meter. I do not 
want the supply shut oft', although at times you tell me 
something that causes me to feel sad. Frank Risteen and 
Fred Mather have both gone over the Great Divide. I felt 
acquainted with them through their writings. Fred 
Mather, in particular, had a way of mellowing up your 
heart, and whoever, by the selection of words placed on 
the printed page, is able to leave a feeling of love and 
respect in the mind of the reader, has done a good work 
and certainly no harm. Fred Mather had a soldier'.s 
face — the face of a Cromwellian pikeman — but beneath the 
stern exterior there pulsed warm blood through a warm 
heart. I think Fred Mather was ready, and looked upon 
t:he end as a philosopher .should. He' has gone to other 
fields— other streams. He finds the men whom he has 
fished with, and I think, as I have explained in a dream 
referred to a while ago. that he is now singing with his 
old friends, "Shall We Gather at the River?" 
Another man has gone — an associate, a friend for years, 
well known to me, but not to Forest and Stream readers. 
Only a few months ago we were together on Lake Hopat- 
cong, but sickness came to him. I have seen his black 
hair grow gray and from gray to white. We sent him up 
into New York State, where the hops grow, thinking it 
might benefit him as it had done before. A message came 
back— "There is but slight hope" — then another, saying 
that life had gone and a request to meet what was left at 
the D., L. & W. station. I helped to carry him from 
his house and from the driveway in the cemetery down 
across the rusty sward to where the red Jersey clay was 
freshly heaped, and the cavity from which it came seemed 
to repeat the words of the old sexton, "I gather them in ; 
I gather them in." Sleep away, Jim, sleep. When the 
salt bay breezes waft the green grass above you in the 
springtime, when the fish are running in the bay, I will 
come again, speaking low, stepping softly on my way 
to the boat on the bay s4iore. I will think that you are 
with me, while I will know that you are not. I think I 
will again hear you tell how, in adventuresome boyhood, 
you shipped before the mast from the New England 
coast, hear you tell about the storms off the banks or of 
the calms of the tropics, or how, in later years, you 
wandered among the lakes and streams of Illinois and 
Wisconsin. You were a good friend. Jim, and you had 
the courage to say that you liked me. Sleep on, Jim, un- 
til we meet again. W. W. Hastings. 
Dan VERS, Mass. — I was exceedingly grieved to hear of 
the death of our old friend, Fred Mather. I was in hopes 
that he would be with us for years to come. I had missed 
his name from the Forest and Stream while he was up 
in Wisconsin; and then he had just commenced to let us 
hear from him. I have a choice personal letter from 
him, full of that life and personality so characteristic of 
him, also a nice photograph he sent me recently. Fie was 
a man of many friends who will miss him and always hold 
his name in fond remembrance. John W. Babbitt. 
I was inexpressibly pained to learn that Fred Mather is 
dead. What a loss to us all this will be. I do not remem- 
ber of ever meeting him, but we corresponded occasion- 
ally, and I grew to like him just from his letters. I have 
read probably a large share of what he has written for 
publication, and have his "Men I Have Fished With," 
which I prize very highly. There are portions of that 
book which I consider among the best pen paintings of 
wood life that I ever read, Edward A. Samuels, 
West Winsted, Conn., March 3.— I never was inore 
pained and surprised than I was on hearing of the death 
of Fred Mather. I was not personally acquainted with 
him, _but_ had learned to admire and love him from his 
contributions to Forest and Stream, and from the good 
Avords spoken of him by mutual friends. How w^e all 
shall miss him. Q S. Foster. 
Jonesville, Mich., March 5.— On my return to oflice, 
after an absence of a few days, the first things to greet 
my eye on opening Forest and Stream were the ominous 
black headlines and Fred Mather's name framed therein 
The news of his death came to me like the shock of near 
and personal bereavement, for, while I never had the 
pleasure of meeting Major Mather, I had corresponded 
with him for upward of two years, and had grown to look 
upon him as a friend and intimate. I mourn the death 
of one whom I knew to be a brilliant, thoughtful, cheerful 
and unselfish man, and I can sympathize with those 
bounden to him by the ties of kindred and affection. A 
personality such as his merits all that we poor mortals 
can give, which is but a tribute of affection and prai 
Such as he make the world brighter and better, and 
wish to add my voice to the countless army of frien! 
and admirers who will regret the loss and cherish t 
memory of one whose place will not soon be filled a 
whose sturdy manhood and mental efficiency have 
their impress upon the recorded history of his choS 
specialty. We have profited by his living and grieve at 1 
departure. CouNSELOEi 
Told at the Sportsmen's Show 
Reven^;c of jl Captive Beaf. 
Waboosa has never cared to himt bears. When 
boy ni Marquette, Mich., he saw a tragedy wrought 
a tanie bear that made a lasting impression on his imi 
ination. and though a skilled hunter and trapper of otl; 
wild game he has always given the bear the go-by. 
A chained bear was kept in the yard back of a stQ< 
and in some way this bear conceived a grudge agains'i 
drayman, who was in the habit of driving into the yai 
to deliver goods. Waboosa says the man "indignate 
the bear. Things came to a climax one day when t; 
man, as it chanced, was accompanied by his three-ye,: 
old child. He delivered his goods, and on his way bai 
to the dray did something which roused the smolderi 
passion in the bear to white heat. The beast made' 
sudden leap at the man and caught his feet, and wot 
have ended the matter then and there if the draym, 
had not gotten a grasp on the spokes of one of 
wagon wheels and left his boots with the bear. He h 
time to climb on his dray and start his horse out of . 
yard, but as he reached the street the bear broke looj 
carrying his chain with him, and started in pursuit. 
Directly across the street from the yard was the 
trance to a livery stable, with an exit on another strl 
at right angles to the first. The drayman lashed . 
horse and drove into the stable, turned the corner a] 
came out on the rnain thoroughfare of Marquette, 
rectly opposite the Tremont House. He saw that . 
bear followed, and thinking it might be after the hor 
he jumjjed from the dray, and with his child in his an 
ran into the hotel. The paneled glass doors closed aft 
him, but the bear, hot on the scent, went through th( 
as if there had been nothing in his way, and followed t 
man down a flight of stairs to the bar room. 
Here the man had doubled, and gone out another do 
and through a long passage back to the street. 
The bar room was full of men. It was in the pair 
boom days of the city, and the first great shipments 
iron were being converted into cash. Miners and sailc 
and roustabouts thronged the streets and filled the drin 
ing places. Unfortunately for the drayman, the m 
vjere not provided with firearms. The bear dash 
through the bar and turned neither to right nor left, 
second later the wooden door by which the drayman b 
left lay in splinters, and succeeding doors proved only 
temporary check to the bear's progress. It gained on t 
man at every turn, and just before the poor felk 
leached -his wagon again it caught him. 
The horrified spectators saw a vicious sweep of 
paAvs, Avhich fell a trifle short of the man, but tore t 
child from its father's grasp and ended its young 1- 
instantly. A second later the bear and man had gra 
pled and fallen, the bear on top. 
The man tried to defend himself with lijs arms, and t 
bcar_ chcAved them indiscriminately, meanwhile tearij 
at his stomach with his claAvs, blind Avith passion as 
insensible to the shots Avhich a policeman, who had f« 
lowed the chase;, Avas firing into its head and body, lili 
till the sixth and last shot from the policeman's 
volver, held against the base of its ear, was fired did tl 
, bear succumb. The muscles relaxed, and the shag) 
beast settled afi inert mass. The drayman was pull| 
out from beneath. He was alive, but crippled for li:^ 
There is a moral to this story, which ia, "Don't aggr 
vate a tame bear." 
Smoke Tan. 
Waboosa prefers deer skin to moose or caribou f| 
clothing. He says it is less apt to harden. His bud 
.skin suit is of course smoke tanned. The hide is ma< 
into a loose bag, and annointed Avith fish or animal o: 
and then placed over a smudge built of dry cedar bar 
It is alloAved to remain over the smoke till the oil 1^ 
been driven in on the side next the fire, Avhich requir 
about ten , minutes, "half a pipe smoke," as Wabooi 
phrsses it. Then the skin is reversed, and the other si* 
similarly treated.. 
A Hard Luck Story, 
Waboosa is an uncontaminated Avoodsman, and h 
stories are humorously truthful. "Nothing succeeds lil 
success" is a Yankee motto that has blighted truth 
many a hunting story, and spoiled the story for one cla 
of sportsmen. The following narrative gives an insig! 
into the hardships endured by aborigines, Avho are loal 
to give up their old way of living: 
"I once trapped and hunted," said Waboosa, "in nortli 
frn Michigan, at a place called Michigamme, up tl 
headAvaters of the East Branch of the Menominee Rive 
I Avas there hunting all Avinter, and never got anythir/ 
through unluckiness. It happened Avhile I Avas trappii 
they Avere short of help in the exploring parties, and 
AA'orked AVith them tAA'o weeks at very small wages, 
got scarcely any pay. and that put me up to starting i 
afresh to trap. 
"At very odd times I Avould get a rabbit, but nothin. 
more, and I was pretty much starving all the time. Th; 
breaking up of the ice came, and I still waited, expectin 
to get furs all the time. I was living there Avith oni 
one half meal each day, 
"It came one time I Avas sitting by the river side, p, 
the West Branch of the Escanaba. I saw lots of beave 
swimming up and doAvn in the stream, and I began t 
shoot them. 
"I could only knock beaver over, and failed to kij 
any. ^At sunset I gave up in despair, after shooting on 
pound of poAvder and four pounds of buck shot. Eithe 
my powder was too Aveak or my lead too soft. I hit 'e^ 
all the time, but they only lay over in the stream, a 
did not die.. 
r 
