Oct, 13, 1900.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
287 
ings. They come long distances from a country to the 
eastward to trade in the city, and are continually coming 
and going. In the city they are most friendly, but away 
in their own cotmtry it is a different matter, and one is 
not too safe in the countty east of Riohacha. But to 
the westward is another regoin. No doubt the traveler 
has been looking with deep interest at a great range of 
mountains over which the sun is setting and the glory of 
$he clouds is intensified by a thousand shades of color 
frbm the glistening snow on the summits to the deep 
-irpie gray -v'alleys; but perhaps a mist hangs heavily as 
evening comes on-, then all indication of the mountains 
is shut out. 
Toward these mountains the traveler is shortly making 
his way, journeying along the coast in a great canoe 
Iflilanned by rough natives taking him to their village, called 
''i;»ibulla. 
The voyage along the coast is a novel one, made at 
jght under the covering of the tropical stars that stud 
the heavens so abundantly that above the sky seems all 
starlight ; and as the open canoe speeds onward the sigh- 
ing of the winds around it and the swash of the waves 
along its sides make rhythmic music in the night. The 
time occupied depends on the wind ; sometimes it is only 
ll few hours, and at others daylight comes before DibuUa 
'li reached. In this event the canoe is drawn up_ on the 
sand, and the men ^leep during the day; the tropical sun 
is too hot in an open canoe; it is easier to finish the_ voyage 
the next evening. It never takes more than two nights to 
reach Dibulla, and the distance is not over fifty miles. 
On arriving, the canoe is taken across a bar in the river, 
Xnd just beyond a sheet of quiet water is the little village 
ff Dibulla, a collection of huts inhabited by very poor 
j/eople. The traveler is welcomed, but here finds little 
to interest him. Swarms of teasing black flies and mos- 
quitoes make it desirable to stay indoors, and the people 
show too plainly a sense of want and privation expres- 
sively evidenced in themselves and all their surroundings. 
Some, however, are strong and healthy, and on selecting 
guides one is ready to start for the mountains that now 
are just at hand. 
Where one will start in must depend on the object 
sought. If it is the interior valleys, snow-capped peaks 
and strange but friendly tribes of Indians, one will go 
still further along the coast to the trail, probably mounted 
on an ox or bull, because the trail is too rough in the 
tipper valleys for any other animal. If one seeks only to 
.,oot big game with as little trouble as possible, one will 
lake a staunch donkey or mule and cross the four or 
ave miles of lowlands that separate Dibulla from the 
mountains. It is probable that during the two or three 
hours occupied in this journey one will form all sort.s of 
evil opinions of the tropics in general and of the place in 
particular. There will be swarms of black flies and other 
teasing insects, blistering heat and dust, alternating with 
swamp holes and mosquitoes. Arriving at the foothills 
the way becomes pleasanter. Under the deep shade of 
(he palm trees cool brooks will be found splashing along 
over clean gravelly bottoms. One must walk here, and 
will not go far before a cool breath coming down the 
mountains will invigorate the whole body. A little 
further and the teasing insects are left behind, and one 
surrounded by all that is luxuriant and beautiful in 
ihe American tropics — a land of enchantments only ten 
or twelve days from New York. One will have a thou- 
sand questions to ask. But go softly; there is no fresh 
meat for supper. One cannot walk any great distance in 
this country without disturbing a flock of wild turkeys, 
and at any moment the heavy beating of their wings and 
peculiar cry can be expected as they start flying from the 
tall tree in which they were passing the heat of the day, 
giving their cry of warning one to the other and flying 
from tree to tree in all directions, stopping in the higher 
iDranches to peer about as if reluctant to go further, yet 
■nxiously watching to know if they are followed. Now 
caution and good sportsmanship. Work carefully 
i:-om tree to tree and earn a shot; the game will be 
worth killing; the meat well flavored and tender, to be 
enjoyed later during the cool evening at camp higher up 
among the mountains. If turkeys fail to bring sport, 
which is rarely the case, then the dogs will soon find 
some of the smaller animals. Wild hogs may be en- 
countered, and it is so certain that game will be had on 
the way to camp that one need have no fear about sup- 
plies of fresh meat. 
The camp at the upper part of the company's property, 
not the lower camps where rubber trees are being planted, 
is the place to stop. There all nature is beyond herself in 
loveliness — a wilderness of forests and a wealth of vegeta- 
tion in variety without number; cold, clear brooks, cool, 
bracing air and that all -rewarding depth of grandeur— 
that sense of the infinite in the touch of nature, un- 
trammeled by man's necessities, supreme in her primeval 
splendor. 
Archsological evidence iii the remains of a former 
civilization shows abundantly that these regions were once 
populated by hundreds of thousands and perhaps even 
millions of people ; and they will be again. The lands are 
too good, the region too beautiful to remain unoccupied. 
But the game is the interest in this paper. The South 
American Land and Exploration Company. Limited, has 
^es for about two hundred square miles of the best of 
II''-; region; it proposes to develop the property for 
mining operations and the forestry cultivation of rub- 
ber, and the opportunity to maintain a game preserve will 
be unexcelled and will last for years. The principal wild 
animals worthy of interest are the jaguar and the tapir. 
To secure one of either requires no mean skill, and he 
who would be successful must have strength, endurance 
and enthusiasm, for these animals must be tracked far in 
among the mountains. To kill a tapir requires skill, cau- 
*'on and patience. Perhaps two or three days will pass 
fore the animal is finally cornered. Then one must 
quick with the rifle and hold steady, for the in- 
furiated creature may charge to trample on his pursuers 
and gain his liberty undisturbed. To kill a jaguar requires 
courage as well as skill and endurance. One may searcn 
the mountains for days before overtaking the game, yet 
they are abundant, and one can feel sure of an encounter. 
The temper of a iaguar varies; in some places it is 
cowardl}'; but in these mountains it is daring, and the 
.encounter must be for a life, and one must be cool and 
quick indeed. The jaguars haunt the mountains even 
|it^her than the company's upper camps, ynd the way wHl 
be long and rough, and when the jaguar is found the 
sportsman must go forward to the encounter alone; the 
guides will not follow him, the animal is so thoroughly 
dreaded. 
^Referring once more to the game preserve, the com- 
pany owns all this beautiful property; the nature of its 
operations admits of a special effort to preserve the game, 
and sportsmen who care to see the tropics away from the 
beaten track, to visit a beautiful region and have a shot 
at big game, with plenty of smaller animals always at 
hand, can be the guests of the company to shoot over 
its property and use its camps, provided they are intror 
duced by the managers of Fqresi and Stream. .What 
will the company make by it? Nothing. It is not looking 
to make a profit from guests ; but the general manager 
likes to do a little shooting himself when he can get the 
time, and would like to start the development of' a tropical 
game preserve. Francis C. Nichols. 
The Initiation of the Tenderfeet* 
At a certain Adirondack cottage where for years the 
clerical, legal and medical professions have been much 
in evidence, with a frequent large spicing of educational 
workers — for the cottage has been noted for its genial 
company and the high quality of its intellectual bill of 
fare — it has long been the practice of the habitues to 
/'initiate" every newcomer of the masculine persuasion. 
It was done, not by set formula nor prescribed ritual, nor 
always by prearrangement, but usually by taking the novice 
on a hunting or fishing trip where opportunities for him to 
fall into some trap and play a joke on himself" were 
varied and abundent, and where, if he failed to do so 
unaided, a very little help would suffice to make a com- 
plete success and lots of fun. 
The past summer furnished two victims,' and as both 
"lived to tell the tale," it is chronicled "for the sake 
of those who come after," . 
Case I. A young business man from the city. His 
appetite for deer hunting was keen — it had long been 
whetted by camp-fire tales and other items in the ex- 
perience of friends at the cottage. So enthusiasm was at 
the boiling point when he arrived in the mountains at the 
opening of the hunting season. His first trip was with a 
guide, and was unsuccessful — -for though he had a shot it 
was a long one, and he failed to score. Next week the 
Scribe went With him to the camp — loved from long asso- 
ciation and pleasant experiences — determined that if pos- 
sible he should get a deer. 
After lunch at the spring packs were left in camp, and 
rifle in hand we proceeded to the pond. The "watch 
rock" was a little promontory rising from 5 to 25 feet 
above the water, and nearly covered by trees and bushes. 
To reach this vantage point we must drag the boat from 
its concealment, or go a long way around, or walk a 
log lying on the mud and water near the outlet of the 
pond. We took the log. It was 30 to 40 feet long, some 
14 inches at the butt, and about 3 inches and slippery 
at the top. The Scribe led the advance, telling and illus- 
trating how the feet should be placed to insure safety. 
The directions were not followed. The tenderfoot per- 
sisted in crossing his legs and placing his feet in the 
most awkward way possible — ^^toes out on either side the 
log — and, nearing the small end, he began to waver, then 
to slip, then to wabble, and presently, with rifle wildly 
waved in air, he started for China — one foot went as far 
in that direction as length of leg would permit. A brief 
but frantic struggle to regain the top of the log, and the 
other foot went into the mud. Then he waded ashore. 
He had taken his "first degree." The Scribe offered to 
return to camp with him and build up a fire to dry him 
out, but he was game, and replied, "No ; the sun will dry 
out my clotlies in two hours. You go up on the rock and 
watch, and if a deer comes in, shoot it." The Scribe an- 
swered, "Very well, I will watch, but if a deer comes 
you shall have the shot." Positions were taken accord- 
ingly, and within three-quarters of an hour a beautiful 
deer was seen across the pond and about 250 yards away. 
The Scribe crawled on hands and knees through the 
bushes and called the tenderfoot. He was using both 
sun and air to dry his clothes. He had nothing on but 
shirt and hat. Earnest gesture drew his attention. "Big 
deer. Come and shoot it !" "Why, I haven't my clothes 
on! You shoot." "That makes no difference; gome 
along." "No, you shoot." "I will not — ^I came to give 
you a shot. Here's your chance, so come along." He 
came. He hoped to put his mark on the deer. The bushes 
put their marks on him. Crawling on hands and knees he 
reached his rifle. Sights were adjusted and he wanted to 
shoot. "Wait for a broadside." In a few minutes the 
coveted exposure came. "Now !" The rifle cracked and 
the deer started for home. Then a hasty glance along the 
sights of the Scribe's .30-30, and a quick jump, a humped 
back and a limp flag told of a hard hit. Then the tender- 
foot dressed — himself, not the deer which we went to 
look for. While examining the trail, the novitiate took 
his "second degree" — a foot and leg went into the water 
full length. "Jerusalem! Now I'll certainly have to go 
to camp and dry out." "All right, we'll go." We re- 
turned to the log. The Scribe cut some long sticks to 
aid in keeping equilibrium on the log. When the Scribe 
Avas nearly across he said to the tenderfoot, "Now if you 
cannot walk this log in safety with your stick, I'll go and 
get the boat and ferry you across." He replied, "Oh no, 
I can walk it all right with this." He did along the small 
end and to the middle. Then his nerve began to fail 
and he cried out, "I am afraid I shall fall off before I 
get across." "No you won't. Come along, you're al! 
right." "No, I shall fall off. I know I shall," and he 
did. He came on the large end of the log within 6 feet of 
shore, threw away his stick, grasped the overhanging alder 
bushes, stood wabbling a moment and went with both feet 
into the mud. He had taken his "third degree." The 
camp-fire was soon blazing. 
Case II. A professional gentleman from , full 
of enthusiasm and gallantry. His wife and a lady, their 
friend, would see the beauties of the lakes. The Scribe 
had a big boat, square stern and heavy — a man standing 
on the side could scarcely tip it over — just the thing for 
nervous ladies to ride in till they became accustomed 
to the lakes. It was borrowed. The tenderfoot weighed 
nearly as much as both ladies, but he loaded the boat as 
follows: The lightest weight lady at the square stern. 
the heaviest in the bow and hitnseif next the bow seat. 
Of course, as he started bacldng from the dock the stern 
of the boat was high. The Scribe called to him, "Your 
boat does not balance. Shift your oars and sit on the 
middle seat." He simply turned around and sat on the 
middle seat facing the bow, and without shifting the 
oars, rowed the boat backward. A Hebrew came along 
in a guide boat. The tenderfoot said to himself, "I am not 
going to be outdone by that fellow," and, as "that fel- 
low" seemed nothing loath, the race was soon on. The 
tenderfoot's muscle was good. He won, and the boat 
being large was not swamped by his perspiration. Soon 
the steamer hove in sight. As it passed, the tenderfoot 
observed a queer smile on the faces of the crew while 
looking at him, but he did not suspect the cause. He 
found out _ when the ladies disembarked and his eye 
caught the ' square stern of that clumsy boat. He had 
rowed it four miles backward. He was initiated. 
The habitues of the cottage hope to fee ready for the 
next candidate in 1901, Juvenal. 
Maine and Boston. 
Boston, Oct. 6. — ^The Maine angling season closed as 
it began, a remarkably brisk one. Anglers remained at 
the principal resorts till the last day of the season had 
expired. Many of them fished till after sundown Sunday 
night, Sept. 30, hoping to get a last big trout or salmon. 
L.-atcr that night the rigging was all cheerfully packed, 
but on Monday morning a boat or two was to be seen 
on the pool at the Upper Dam, The occupants had 
no fishing tackle, but were looking for the big trout and 
salmon that were to be seen there. The veteran angler, 
T. B. Stewart, of New York, who has fished about 
thirty seasons at the Upper Dam, says that he has never 
seen so many trout in that pool as during the past 
season. He will ge home greatly pleased, for the banner 
trout of the season has fallen to his skill, one weighiag 
8}i pounds, taken Sept. 21. The same day L. A. Derby, 
of .Lowefl, caught a salmon of 8 pounds 7 oitnces. Sept. 
19, G. S. Osgood caught a trout of 5 pounds 2 ounces, 
one of 3 pounds 7 ounces, one of 3 pounds 5 ounces and 
one of 6 pounds t ounce. On that day E. H. Abbott, 
Jr., got a trout of 5 pounds i ounce. About that time 
"R. N. Parish has a record of a trout of S pounds 5 
ounces, a . salmon of 4 pounds and one of 3 pounds 7 
ounces. On the 25th he took a trout of 3 pounds 4 
ounces and one oE 3 pounds 8 ounces. On the 27th 
George Hutchins caught a trout of 3 pounds 8 ounces, 
and on the 28th a salmon of 3 pounds 5 ounces. The 
same day R. N. Parish caught a trout of 3 pounds 4 
ounces and T. B. Stewart a trout of 3 pounds 4 ounces. 
On the 29th Richard Rowe. of Boston, a veteran angler 
at the Upper Dam, caught a trout of 4 pounds 4 ounces. 
The above catches do not include many smaller trout 
used for the table and allowed to depart unharmed. 
There is a boom in camps and camp lots at the 
Rangeleys. Still the great trouble is that the timber 
land owners will not sell camp lots on any of the Range- 
ley lakes, with the exception of a part of Rangeley Lake, 
and something on one side of Mooselucmaguntic. But 
a number of camps are being built on leased land. 
L. A. Derby and T. J. McDonald, of Lowell, Mass., 
have a fine camp under way on Black Point, MoOse- 
lucma.guntic Lake. Four new cottages have been built 
at the LTpper Dam the past season. Mr. N. G. Manson, 
proprietor of Camp Leatherstocking, Upper Richardson 
Lake, is drafting plans for a camp on a point below 
his place. The camp is to be built for a friend and his 
wife, who are much pleased with that section. Dr. 
Haven's Beaver Island camps, on the same lake, h^ve 
been sold to Mr. J. LI. McMillan, of New York, a gentle- 
man of wealth, introduced to that part of the country 
by J. Parker Whitney. It is reported that he will open 
up several new trails to the mountains, ponds and points 
of interest, 
The Maine deer shooters have not yet had their usual 
first-of-the-scason success. So far in October the num- 
ber of deer arriving in Boston from Maine has not been 
one-third of what it was a year ago. It is suggested that 
the very warm weather has had much to do with this; 
hunters killing deer would not try to ship them when the 
weather is so hot. But I am certain that not the usual 
number have been killed, for some reason or other. 
Many of the late anglers staid till October, to get a few 
days' deer huntin.g. Many of these hunters have been 
disappointed. Some of them were on the best runways 
before daylight on the morning of Oct. i, but no deer 
came. The weather was bright and warm, as it has been 
almost ever since. The guides say that no deer will be 
taken till there coraeS cold weather enough to send them 
out of the swamps and on to the ridges. 
Boston gunners have been out after birds since the 
opening day, Oct. i, and a good number of partridges 
and some quail have been taken. C. H. Tarbox, of 
Byfield, has an Irish setter that he is much pleased with. 
He had never worked him till the other day. Entering 
a swampy _ run, he hoped to start a stray woodcock. 
The dog did exactly as bidden. Soon he came to a fine 
point. Tarbox told him to go on and flush the bird. 
He did so and the game, a partridge, came down before 
it had time to fly a rod, Tarbox told the do.g to go on 
and retrieve the bird. The knowing animal quickly 
came to another point, staunch as a ramrod. This would 
never do, to point on a dead bird. The hunter some- 
what severely told the dog to go in and get the game. 
With a knowing glance backward at the hunter, as much 
as to say, "Be careful" the dog crawled a few paces 
further, when up went another partridge. Tarbox got 
this one also. Then with a gay wag of his tail the dog 
bounded in and broiight out one bird and laid it at his 
master's feet. He did not stop here, but went in and 
got the other, without a word of command. Mrs. Tar- 
box says that the dog knows enough to do just what 
he is told to do, and Mr. Tarbox says that he knows 
enough to do the right thing, Iven when told to do 
somehting else. They have a neighbor, generally a 
dog hater. But that setter has gone over and made 
friends with him;, goes over regularly to see him. The 
neighbor remarks, "Well, I never supposed that I should 
learn to love a dog as I love that one." 
Boston, Oct. 8.— The truth must be told to the readers 
of the Forest and Stream, even if ft mncf;] djsple^sea th« 
