juNK., 30,. lyoo.j 
FOREST. AND STREAM. 
SOB 
In the Katahdln Region. 
The country between the East and West Branches of 
the Penobscot and extending well over toward Ripe- 
genous IS for the most part mountainous. This beautiful 
*>region has more attractions to offer to the artist and 
sportsman than any other portion of the Maine Woods. 
Many changes have taken place in northeastern Maine 
smce the openmg of the railroad a few years ago. There 
were no camps then on the West Branch above Joe Fran- 
cis ; now the woods are full of them. When I first came 
into the Katahdin region it was practically an unbroken 
wilderness, given over to solitude and moose. The crack 
of the sportsman's rifle was seldom heard echoing among 
the mountains. In fact few dared to penetrate as far as 
Sordahunk Lake, now easily reached by buckboard from 
Patten. In those days teams and buckboards were not 
available; everything had to be carried in, including 
canoes. Many of the ponds had never been fished, ex- 
cept by a stray trapper or an occasional lumber gang. 
Lumbering is not carried on so extensively now as it was 
in the days of Thoreau. The pulp industry threatens to 
take its place and despoil the beautiful hardwood forests. 
Old logging roads and cuttings abound everywhere. 
Abandoned camps, some of them so old as to have fallen 
in, are often found in the wildest part of the woods. The 
lumbermen are a curse to the hunter and angler. The 
nearby ponds and streams are despoiled of their trout, 
while the sound of chopping, the crash of falling trees, 
and all the uproar incident to lumbering, drive the inoose 
away from that locality. The deer and partridge are apt 
to suffer, as Sunday is a day off. The remedy is more 
wardens. They are too few in numbers to properly cover 
the ground, and generally when they are wanted they are 
out of sight. 
The fine deer hunting and trout fishing near Sorda- 
hunk Lake are attracting many visitors. Most of them 
come in over the East Branch route. The best and short- 
est route to the lake is to leave the train at Norcross and 
take the little steamer to Camp Wellington; thence by 
canoe up the West Branch, arriving early in the evening 
at Hunt's Camp, on the Sordahunk stream. Baggage 
and camp supplies can be hauled in to the lake, and also 
to Slaughter Pond Camp. The best plan is to travel 
light' and save both time and money. If you are strong 
make an early start from the camp and you will arrive 
at the lake in time for the afternoon fishing. The average 
sportsman will find it to his advantage to take it easy 
and stop over night at Hunt's upper camp, about twelve 
miles from the West Branch. I have seen more deer and 
grouse in the vicinity of this camp than anywhere else in 
the woods. There are some fair-sized trout in the nearby 
stream. In the morning a six-mile tramp through the 
forest will land you at Camp Phoenix, where the Hall 
boys will make you comfortable. If your tramping days 
are over, the Patten route will sijit you best. There are 
enough squaretails in Big and Little Sordahunk to keep 
the angler busy. Deer are frequentty seen feeding along 
the shores of the lake. This is a grand place for the old 
.sportsman, provided he can survive the two and a half 
days' buckboard ride from Patten. It is onlj' six miles 
from Sordahunk to Telos Lake. Parties can be hauled 
over the route and Webster Stream carry. 
The buckboard has invaded the wilderness as far as 
Telos Lake. This and the numerous camps are sure tc 
play havoc with the game supply in a verj- short time 
When the locomotive invades the wilds of the Allegash 
the end will be in sight. The Maine Woods will be sev- 
ered in tvvain. I understand that the road will be pushed 
through by way of Shinn Pond. 
The country round about Katahdin is densely wooded, 
most of the mountains being covered from base to sum- 
mit with a vigorous forest growth. Mt. Katahdin soars 
far above the tree line. This grand old mountain is 
about a mile high and nearly ten miles long. To see this 
huge mass of granite reflecting the red glow of sunset, 
while the forest at its base lies in deep shadow, and all 
faithfully mirrored in beautiful Lost Pond, with no sound 
to dispel the feehng of solitude save the break of rising 
trout or splash of deer wading in the shallows, and over 
all the weird charm of the forest, is enough to arouse 
the sportsman's finer feelings and to cause him to lay 
aside for awhile the implements of the chase, and gaze 
with mingled awe and admiration on this beautiful forest ' 
scene far from the haunts of mem The early morning 
effects among the mountains are indescribably beautiful, 
and will task the resources of the artist to transfer their 
fleeting glories to canvas. There is a particularly fine 
view of Katahdin, Saddleback and the lesser mountain 
peaks from the western extremity of Slaughter Pond. 
The country west of Sordahunk Lake and Slaughter 
Pond is very wild and secluded. The sportsman will 
have to rough it, as there are no camps in this section, ex- 
cept a dilapidated lumber camp near Harrington Lake. 
Slaughter Pond (named after a notable slaughter of 
moose bv the late Jock Darling) has been despoiled of 
many of "its larger trout by a lumber gang. The lumber- 
men are gone now, I hope forever. The pond will soon 
recuperate, as there are plenty of small trout in it. This 
does not hurt the Angler much, as Big and Little Rocky 
and Polly ponds are near by; also a pond reached by a 
good trail about a mile west of Slaughter that has prob- 
ably never been fished. All of them are alive with the 
jumpers, running from 8 to 14 inches in length; not 
cranky, like the large Fish River trout, but always ready 
to seize the fly provided the water is not too rough or 
discolored. There is a canoe on Little Rocky and two 
rafts on Slaughter Pond. A raft should be shoved about 
as quietly as possible. Cedar is the best wood for rafts; 
any good guide can make one in less than an hour. Polly 
Pond, the best of them all, is about a half mile from 
camp. It lies dose up to Slaughter, and hpw it escaped 
the ravages of the lumbermen is a mystery. There are 
plenty of trout of over a foot in length in the pond. Most 
of the fishing is done near lilypads. If you hook one of 
the larger "ones keep him away from their roots at all 
hazards. Thirty feet is a long enough cast. Always cast 
into the biggest rise if possible. Net him the first ^ood 
chance that offers, but don't hurry matters unless you 
want to lose most of the large ones. From the time 
when the sun drops below the tree tops nntil dusk is the 
angler's hour. „ , ..r j n -i 
Kidney, Dacey and Fossand Noton ponds are all easily 
reached from the West Branch route. The crowd keep 
to the main traveled route, and let the country west of 
Kidney Pond severely alone. Slaughter Pond Camp is 
situated m the wildest part of the Katahdin region. That 
class of sportsmen who love the woods and hate the 
crowd will have everything their own way here, as visitors 
are few and far between. 
I came to this lonely camp last September, accom- 
panied by my two guides. We had our supplies hauled in 
from Hunt's lower camp. The road had to be cleared 
of fallen trees in places to let the team through. I stayed 
in camp about two weeks, fishing, sketching and rambling 
through the forest with my guide, Lyman Hunt, a true 
lover of the woods and a first-class moose hunter. To 
vary the monotony of camp life I made arrangements for 
exploring the wild country between Slaughter Pond 
and Harrington Lake. One September morning we 
paddled across Slaughter Pond and struck the trail that 
comes in at its western extremity. The forest closed 
around us for a short distance, and then opened again to 
disclose a beautiful mountain pond. Few have ever 
gazed on its beauty save the wandering trapper or hunter. 
Minks, hawks and water fowl are the only enemies the 
trout have to fear in this lonely pond. There was no time 
for dalliance, as we wanted "to make Little Harrington 
before dusk. Keeping up a steady gait, we managed to 
arrive in good time. We soon had the camp set up, and 
after satisfying our ravenous appetites wc lay around 
the camp-fire, while Lyman told of adventures witTi 
moose, and other incidents of forest life, until wc sought 
our blankets and one by one dropped off into the Land 
of Nod. Early next morning a moose was sighted on the 
far shore of the pond. Hoping it was a bull, wc hastily 
embarked and paddled over. It proved to be a coav. 
SLAUGHTER PONP. 
From a Drawing- by W. E. Squier, Jr. 
She let us get very close, and then trotted off in the most 
unconcerned manner. We had hardly returned to camp 
before two more appeared^ a cow and a calf. Again we 
tried the same tactics, and were rewarded with a good 
view of these interesting animals. The cow moose may 
be shot at some future time, but never for her beautj-. 
Our next move was to reach the upper part of Soper 
Brook. We accomplished this in spite of the vigorous 
protest put qp by Harrington Lake; but this comes in 
later on. My journey through the forest to Harrington 
Lake was a delightful experience, after being shut up in 
the camp, which is too much like living in a house. Be- 
fore reaching the lake we came across an old lumber 
camp. A deer darted away at our approach. Everything 
connected with the camp seemed to belong to a moulder- 
ing past. Old rusty axe heads and other rubbish littered 
up the ruins. Let me warn the sportsman not to camp 
out in a verj' old lumber camp unless he wishes to be 
buried alive, as there is no telling when something rnay 
.give way, particularly if there is a high wind. Having 
"satisfied our curiosity, we resumed our journey. A few 
paces from the ruined camp the forest closed around us, 
not to open again until we reached the lake. The woods 
were turning fast from the sober green of summer to the 
gay hues of autumn. The autumn tints in the Maine 
woods are to my mind far more delicate and beautiful 
than can be found in the open country. Our progress 
through the woods was rather noisy on account of the 
branches scratching against the sides of the canoe. A 
short distance from Harrington we came across a sports- 
man with his Indian guide. With the exception of my 
guides this was the first white man that I had seen since 
I had come into this region, some three weeks before. 
After a pleasant chat about moose and forest life, we again 
look up the white man's burden and soon deposited it on 
the shore of the lake. 
Harrington Lake is four miles long and about a mile 
wide. Its shores are rather low, and this gives the wind 
a pretty good sweep. Our canoe had a good load on 
when it left the sheltered cove and headed for tlie North 
Shore. We paddled gaily on., our way until the sudden 
shoaling of the water annoimced the presence of a reef 
that extended far out into the lake. We concluded we 
could turn it in spite of the ugly assortment of whitecaps 
that confronted us. We did not begin to feel the effects 
of the waves until we worked out toward the center of 
the lake. It was interesting to see the guides cleverly 
dodge the attentions of the big fellows,, then force the 
canoe into the midst of the grinning whitecaps. Always 
gaining, they finally fought their way out to the extremity 
w where we got the full force of the waves. 
.^Vatching their opportunity, they turned the canoe around 
in the hollow of a wave, and cleverly avoiding the incomer 
soon had the canoe in quieter waters. It was well done— 
and what I say goes, as I have been over the greater por- 
tion of the Maine woods in a canoe and have paddled 
eighteen and twenty miles at a stretch. If my guides, 
Cram and Lyman, had not thoroughly understood their 
business we never could have turned the reef withottt 
capsizing. In spite of all their caution, one big whitecap 
nearly boarded us, and gave 'me a good taste of HaiTing- 
ton water. 
The mouth of Soper Brook was soon sighted, and after 
a httle maneuvering we found the trail that leads up the 
brook. Following up the trail, we came on to an old 
camp ground. This spot suited exactly. Leaving the 
guides busy fixing flp the camp, I managed to induce 
some of the speckled beauties to e.xchange their present 
quarters for the frying pan. After partaking of a hearty 
meal we retired to our blankets, and soon the camp 
was wrapped in slumber. 
We started the next morning for the upper waters of 
Soper Brook. A good path led up to the dam. Embark- 
ing on the quiet water above, we paddled softly up stream, 
keeping a sharp lookout for moose, but sighted only a 
doe and fawn. Instead of running off, she approached, 
eying us curiously, and seemed satisfied that we intended 
no harm to her and her little one. There are some so- 
called sportsmen who would have butchered her on the 
spot and left the little one to perish. About a mile above 
the dam' navigation ceased, so leaving the canoe we 
started up the_ brook. We found nothing to interest us 
except the wildness of our surroundings. Becoming 
tired of the dreary combination of dead trees and bog. 
we returned to the dam. Here we had an addition to our 
party in the person of Irving Hunt. Tired of being 
alone, he had tracked us through the woods, and with 
the assistance of a party near Harrington Lake soon had 
us located. While I was conversing with him a good- 
sized bear put in an appearance. He did not stop to in- 
spect us, but hurried on, and soon disappeared over a dis- 
tant ridge. It was now or never, if we intended to have 
any trout for supper, so working my way down the stream 
and trying all the likely places I came to a pool that 
was literally alive with the jumpers. I soon had all we 
could use for the present. Many of them were good-sized 
trout for such a small brook. Trout formed our principal 
bill of fare that night, and the way they disappeared was 
:i caution. 
Our camp was an open one; we always turned in hot 
and happy to awake in the early morning and find 1«he 
fire burnt out and the air decidedly cool. 
The next day was spent in making a careful sketch of 
the camp, and toward evening robbing the pretty brook 
of some of its treasures. I used a fly for the dropper 
and a trout fin for the stretcher. It was getting late, so 
the bait made shorter work of it, as four hungry men will 
consume a pile of trout. The smoke of the camp-fire 
shooting up above the tree tops warned me to hasten on 
down stream. Arriving at the camp, I found preparations 
for supper well under way. Soon the aroma of coffee and 
fried trout summoned us. to the woodland feast. Trout, 
flippers, friend potatoes, bacon and coffee were partaken 
of with an appetite that would have caused a Kin66 
"sport" to die of envy. As the daylight disappeared 
the camp-fire took its place. As night crept on apace 
more fuel was added to the fire, illumining the dim re- 
cesses of the forest and causing nearby objects to stand 
out with startling distinctness. Sprawled out on our 
blankets, we took things easy, listening to Lyman and 
Cram go over some incidents connected with their happy 
hunting days, when moose were plenty and hunters scarce. 
Finally lite camp got talked out, the camp-fire was left 
to burn itself out, and soon no sound was heard but the 
crackling of the fire and the deep breathing- of the 
sleepers. 
Next morning we packed up and took the back track 
for Harrington. There were no waves of any account 
on the lake, but as we did not care to take our chances 
with an overloaded canoe Lyman and Cram had to walk 
along the shore to the head of the lake, leaving Irving 
and myself to paddle over. To overload a canoe is to 
invite disaster. The guides keep a sharp lookout, other- 
wise there would be many a sad accident, particularly on 
the larger lakes, such as Moosehead, Chesuncook, Peda- 
(Uimcook and others. Some of the canoes are extremely 
cranky. AU of them require the most careful handling 
in rough water. To be caught out on a big lake during a 
liard blow will furnish the sportsman with plenty of 
excitement of the hair-lifting kind. Finally our party got 
together again, except Irving, who started on ahead for 
Slaughter Camp. Once more we took to the Avoods, and 
keeping hard at it we reached the old camp before dark. 
We found everything as we had left it. The only sign 
of life was the presence of a> wild; leaking feline that 
haunts the camp. 
The beaver pon4s are withing striking distance of camp. 
T intended to work over in that direction, but finally gave 
it up. in fact, it was getting risky to start a camp-fire, 
as the woods were very dry. There were no fires in 
our locality, but there were two forest fires raging not 
far away. Camping parties are no doubt responsible for 
this state of affairs. Large camp-fires are not needed in 
August and September; they are apt to throw fire far 
back ill the Avoods. The safest plan is to thoroughly 
drench the ground before leaving. Fire Avhen it gets 
underground is very hard to master. The Avorst blaze 
Avas back of Katahdin; the smoke Avas so dense as nearly 
to obscure Old Mountain from sight. Another fire was 
raging over tOAvard Harrington Lake. The Hunt broth- 
ers deserve great credit for fighting out a fire at Kidney 
Pond. There Avere others in the vicinity Avho gave little 
r.r no assistance to these men in their endeavors to save 
the timber oAvners' propert}'. A Avelcome rain came about 
the time I moved out, the last of September, Avhich saved 
thousands of dollars' worth of timber. 
Camp supplies can be purchased at Patten, Norcross, 
Stacyville and other places along the line of the B. & 
A. R. R. The store at Chesuncook and the lumber farm 
at Chamberlain Lake are the only places in the interior 
that can be relied upon. The public camps invariably 
refuse to help the camper out. Lumbermen's low-cut 
rubbers are the best footsvear for general purposes. They 
