FOHlEST AND STREAM. 
68 
was an old soldier and had plenty of sand, for all his 
chassayin' and waxed ends. 
But in a minute he whispered to himself, "Bah! it is 
hut a bo.v — a 5oy!" Then he hunched up his shoulders, 
bowin' and smilin', and, says he, "Ah-h, Meester Rid.a;e- 
wood he have no moostarsh." 
And that was one on Ridgcwood. for his face was as 
smooth as a girl's. 
I \vent about with the youngster a good bit, and he 
wasn't half -a. bad \m. Green — so green yojLi could see 
him sprout— of course; but willin' to own\ip once in 
a while that a man that had hunted over the mountains 
a dozen years might know ther alphabet. 
■'Tom,'' said he one day. "can't you find me a grizzly.'" 
"Well. I hain't lost no gri7*zly 'that I know ;(pf," says 
I, "and I don't feel no call to look for one." 
"Pshaw!" says he; "I want a grizzly's skin to t;d<:e 
home with me." 
"It's an even chance if the grizzly don't take an Kng- 
lishman's skin home with him," says I. 
"T s'pose the only thing to do if you don't fclcli him 
the first shot is to climb a tree," .says he. 
"yes,"^says I; "and lively, too. for he can run like a 
horse. If you get any time lor observation, which ain't 
likely, take one that'll give you the easiest perch, for 
you may have to stay up there some tinic." 
"So I get my grizzly, T don't care,'' says he. 
When we got back lo camp that night, there was Vic- 
tor, doctoring a man named Roberts. Roljcrts had been 
up in the mountains campin' on a sort of shelf above a 
pretty sizable brook. He said that the night before he 
was comin' home and stepped out from some brush near 
by to find his things scattered from Maine to Ballyhack. 
and the biggest bear he ever sec, sittin' in the midst of 
the wreck. Before Roberts could think "shoot," Mr. 
Grizzls' riz up and hit him side o' the head with a paw 
like a skillet, and that was the last Roberts knew till he 
found hiifiself lyin' in the water with his right ear gone! 
We old-timers looked at each other and nodded. "Old 
Splayfoot, I reckon," said Montezumy Mike. "T wfuihln't 
iXO back after that car if I was you." 
"Don't reckon I will," says Roberts. "I've been kinder 
wantin' to see old Splayfoot, and I'm satisfied, gentle- 
men — I'm more'n satisfied." 
"What about Splayfoot.'" asks Rldgewood, and a dozen 
of 'em begun tellin' him at once. I see there Ava'n't- no 
use of my tunin' np, though I knew as much about Splay- 
foot as any of 'cm, so I lit ,niy pipe and set down for a 
smoke. 
I suppose old Splayfoot was as big a grizzly as ever 
traveled the mountains. "King of the Siskies," they 
called him; and a meaner, slyer, smarter old varmint 
ntivet^ snored in a caw cave. According to the yarns 
told that night, he carried nigh a hundredweight of lead 
in him already, but every ball only made him uglier, 
while as for traps, he'd spring 'em for capers and go of? 
with a grin. The Injuns always spoke of him verj- 
respectful, and any wdiite man that see him and got away 
alive, did the same. He was lame in one leg and sprawfed 
the toes of that foot when he set it down — that's how 
he got his name. 
When the powwow was over, Ridgewood came to me 
quite wild. "I'm goin' after Splayfoot." says he. 
"Think you'll like that way o' dyin' ?" says I. 
"Look here, Tom," says he; "I've hunted tigers from 
elephants' backs in India." 
"But you hain't never hunted grizzlies from treetops 
in Californy," says I. That made him mad, and he went 
off with Montezumy Mike, who trotted him about down 
among the foothills, where there was as much chance of 
finding a crockerdile as a grizzly. They were gone three 
days — shot four rabbits and a goat; then he came back 
to me and said Mike wasn't worth the powder__to blow 
him up. 
Next morning Victor was fairly tearin' his hair. Two 
of his pigs had been killed, and another one carried ofif. 
Plenty of marks the thief had left behind him — tracks 
as big as a dinner plate; three of them set down solid 
and tine fourth one sprawled. Old Splayfoot, by George! 
"Why don't you go after him. Alphonse?" asked Ridge- 
wood. He called Victor that half the time to plague 
him. 
"Ma fwoi!" says Victor, waving a big fork and a pot- 
lid. "That I die shall not my peeks bring back. No, no. 
Mossyer Bear," I say; "you have my heart torn, my peek 
pen disoley, but va-tong, go, Mossyer Splayfoot — veet. 
veet! Better a peek than Victor." 
Ridgewood laughed in his face and Victor's eyes 
turned Hke a hawk's again. ' He was gettin' tired of the 
youngster's sass, and when he was tunin' his fiddle, after 
a bit. and Ridgewood asked him, "Alphonse. can you 
dance?" he answered pretty sharp; "Yes, Mossyer, I can 
dance; I can also shoot." 
He could, too. There wasn't a better shot in camp. 
T hauled Ridgewood off and told him he'd have a spell 
of lead fever if he kept on. 
We srarted out next day for a couple of weeks higher 
up in the mountains. Ridgewood left word that he'd 
jiay any feller -well to bring his mail up tp my .shack, 
which was six miles 6r so from the camp. We'd go 
1)ack there to load up for the second week. 
"I will bring eet." says Victor, quite over his miff. 
"I will bring eet. Who knows but I shall also have a 
shot at Mossyer Splayfoot, eh?" 
"Oh. do. \lphoose." says Rid gCAVOOfd'i and I had to 
haul him ofT again. We packed our outfit on a burro, 
left half of it at my shack, then tramped a good bit 
further on and camped. 
There was plentv of bear sign, but we didn't see nothin 
of the beasts themselves till the third day; while we were 
fryin' some bacon for dinner, here come two right on' us. 
I skinned up a tree in a hurry, and Ridgewood did the 
same so quick that he forgot his gun. 
I killed one at the first shot. hx\t the other took four 
bullets and prowled round half an hour before it made 
up its mind to die. And all the time Ridgewood sat 
perched up in the tree, callin' himself all the fool names 
he could think of because he'd forgotten his gun. First 
thing he asked me when he came down was whether 
either of the bears was Splavfoot. 
"Lord." I said "you could put both of 'em m Splay- 
ioot's hide and have room for another." 
The sixth day we went back to the shacTc. 
"Oid you leave that door open, Tom?" says Ridge- 
wood. 
"No, sn," says I; "did you?" And then I gav6 a yel 
hke a Choctaw, for out of the shack, almost in our faces, 
bounded a grizzly, half as big as an elephant. 
"Climb, man. climb," I hollered, takin' my own advice. 
When I'd got pretty well up, I looked round, and there 
was that fool Englishman behind a tree drawing a bead 
on the bear. 
"Climb, you fool, climb!" I shouted. The gun cracked 
a.s I .said it and Rid,gewood hugged the tree. He vva'n't 
quite quick enough: the bear reared up and slapped him 
across the leg. fetching away his boot and a strip of meat 
three fingers long. It was a mercy he wa'n't torn loose; 
but he held on and dragged hijuself up out of reach. 
He was game, that Englishman, but as he leaned over 
to lire again, the bear whacked himself against the tree 
so hard that Ridgewood lost his balance and dropped his 
gun. You orter have seen the grizzly pulverize that gun. 
By lhat time I had given him two shots* and that was 
all I had. Ridgewood tried to throw me his cartridges 
and out of the lot I caught one. It only brought the old 
fellow bang up a,gainst my tree, which wasn't so big as 
I wished it had been after hxr'd slammed up agin it half 
a dozen times. 
He growled and prOwled back and forth between us; 
sometimes going away to nose round the shack, but if 
I made the least motion of sliding down, back he'd come 
galloping, sit tip on his hunkers and waggle his paws as 
much as to say, "Come on, old man; I'm ready for you." 
There's pleasanter fixes than sittin' astride a two-inch 
pcich with a mad grizzly waftin' for you underneath; but 
I was comfortable 'longside o' Ridgewood with that leg 
o' his. I heard him groan once in spite of himself, and 
when I asked him he said he was gettin' kind o' faint 
and dizzy. ^ I told him to tie himself fast if he had to 
strip his shirt to do it, and it was well that he did, for he 
lost his head half the time after that, and would have 
tumbled out like a nut if he hadn't been tied. 
It got to be 'long in the afternoon, and there was no 
more sign of the bear's goin' oft' than if he had just come. 
He'd growl and lick the spots where the bullets hit him 
and then settTe down watching harder than ever. By and 
by. a good way off, we heard some one singin'; pretty 
soon it got iiear enough for us to make out: 
Allongs onfongs der ma pattciy, 
Le zhure der glaw ate arrivay. 
"My God! it's that fool, Alphonse. with the mail, says 
Ridgewood. and in spite of the pain he was in he 
laughed. "Holler to him to run back and send us a man. 
The bear will swallow him whole." 
We was on the side of a gully and right across was a 
bare place on. top of a spur that Victor would have to 
cross to reach the shack. When I saw him come out 
on it, I swung my^hat and yelled "Bear, bear. Splayfoot!'" 
as hard as t could yell. He stoiDped a minute with his 
head on one side, waved his hand, and turned back into 
the woods. 
"Think you can hold on a spell longer!" I asked, for 
Ridgewood was groanin' again. 
"Why. I'm tied on, Tom," says he. langhin'. Oh, he 
was game. 
And just then I see Victor come stealin' up through 
the woods way off to the right. He'd gone round so's to 
come up against the wind; but he hadn't nothin' but a 
little light rifle, just abottt big enough to shoot rabbits. 
"Lord, man: you can't do nothin' with that popgun," 
says I. He kept stealin' closer and closer, like a cat, 
and I broke off all the wood T could reach and pelted the 
bear so's to keep his eye on me till Victor wa'n't fifty 
feet away. 
"Bien," .says he, and whistled. The bear turned his 
head, and Victor put two of them popgun bullets right 
in his nose. 
I tell you dust and leaves flew about pretty lively for 
a minute, but they were both center shots, and he was 
a dead bear. 
The old King of the Siskies. We'd found that out 
when we set up there a-watchin' him. "Aha. Mos.syer 
Splayfoot! kill my peeks, will you?" says Victor. 
By the time we got Ridgewood down he didn't know 
anything. We took him back to camp and Victor nursed 
him like a mother for si\' weeks. 
One day when he was on the homestretch Montezumy 
Mike was" in to see him. "You'll have to make- another 
picter of Victor, Ridgewood." says he. "Since he kdled 
Splayfoot his mustashers have growed an inch and he 
starches 'em .stiffer than ever." 
"I don't care if he laps 'cm behind his head and ties 
'em under his chin." says _ RidgeWood. "Somebody'd 
better make a picture of me." _ ^ . 
Victor came in with a bowl of somethm or other tor 
Ridgewood to eat and he scolded because we were in 
there talkin'. "Ees eet that you vill keel my patient, 
genteelmen?" savs he dancing about. "He moost have 
tlie quiet. T desire that you will imrae-diately at once 
go awav." . , 
Mike went out. winkin' at Ridgewood. but the Lnglish- 
man reached out and got hold of his nurse's paw. "You're 
a brick. Victor." he said. . 
"I am a genteelinan. sare." says Victor, and 1 guess 
that was about the size of it— eh. Judge? 
M. C. Skkel. 
Thi>^ statement of furs and skins is contained in a letter 
written by John Jacob .\.stor in 1792. Smith was a pioneer 
•It Fort Schuyler, now Utica: 
PETER SMITH. Merchant. 
Canajoharie. or Old Fort Schuyler. 
Accl of Pelts per Mr. Kipp— 
67 Otter .skins.- ii34 
1 do of vcrv little value ' 
TOT Bear skins. , ^202 
.39 Ctib Ditto fi9 
T17 Marten skins ^20 
27 Bad Ditto 2.7 
42 good Mink - 
22 bad Ditto 2.4 
I Grav Fox . -8 
,1 Red Fox 3.10 
2197 Aluskrat ;f200.oo 
206 Raccoon £61 
7 Wolf ^2.2 
9 Wild Cats i2.T4 
257 Beaver £142.4 
g very bad bears £2.5 
A^iCamp on the Lost Channel. 
One hazy Saturday evening in August, 1898, we left the 
Iron City camp on Go Home Bay and went south about 
thu-ty-five nnles to Waubaushcne in the camp tug On 
landmg we immediately made our way to the Hotel Wil- 
son and engaged a room and board until Monday morn- 
ing, when we expected to start on our cruise up the 
Severn River. The hotel, is situated on a hillside back 
of the town, and overlooks the bay. The house is quite 
home-like, and the surroundings beautiful. 
Among the guests at the hotel were Mr. and Mrs. C. 
Irom Pittsburg, with whom we were acquainted. They 
had both been sent here by the doctor for their health 
.^s soon as they learned of our intention to start up the 
Severn River Monday morning they rt'ere eager to ac- 
company us. We had our canoe and cruising outfit with 
us, so my husband and Mr. C. started out to procure two 
guides a canoe and a tent. They engaged two young 
men for guides who were good woodsmen and, fot^ 
tunately for us, expert canoemen. 
\A/e spent a quiet and very pleasant Sunday at the hotel 
not caring to attend church in our cruising garments 
;Y'?"^Yf"\°"\?rf ^^''^ ^a^'y had an excel- 
luit breakfast. When we were about ready to start the 
driver brought around the wagon, and all our duffle' was 
taken to tlie store where we intended buying our nro- 
visions. Mr. and Mrs. C. had been liberally supplied 
with provisions and blankets at the hotel. 
When we had purchased our supplies they were placed 
m the wagon and taken to the dock. We followed ac- 
coinpanied by the proprietor and his wife, to see us off 
and wish us bon voyage. They treated us with the great- 
est kindness, and 1 shall always feel indebted to them for 
t ic basket ot new potatoes, fresh eggs and, spring 
chickens they gave us. 
The guides loaded the ca'noes, and we crossed Match- 
edash Bay in the early morning and were soon portaginR- 
around the dam at Port Severn, near the mouth of the 
Severn River. The dam was broken and the river was 
very low. A short distance above the dam is a rocky 
ledge extending from shore to shore across the bed of the 
r;ver. Over this ledge the water was so shallow that 
only in one place— a narrow channel about 3 feet wide— 
was there water enough to Moat the canoes. 
Around a bend a short distance above this ledge the 
river bed widens, forming a large lake. The shores of 
tins lake, OAving to the broken dam, were mostly swamps 
covered with driftwood and drowned trees. The lake 
itselt vyas full of deadheads, all pointing down stream and 
near the center was a great round-topped boulder about 
3 inches below the surface of the water. 
Beyond the lake the river ruAs tlirough a swamp cov- 
ered vvith drowned trees and channels running in various 
directions. We had no difiiculty keeping in the main 
channel, and were soon in Gloucester Pool. This is a 
.great lake, eight miles long and from two to four mile-, 
wide. 
On Gloucester Pool we found the waves running high 
and a stiff breeze. But our guides were skillful, and 
even with our heavy loads, we had no difiiculty. 
^ A tug runs from Port Severn to a dock at the head of 
'Gloucester Pool, but we had been too late for the first 
trip, and the tug stood moored to the dock at the head of 
the pool. 
^ We kept to the right, and entering the narrows, passed 
^^amp Comfort. This camp seemed to be well named. 
■ he location was beautiful, and the campers were evi- 
dently enjoying themselves. They were at dinner. , 
We were now in the gorge below the little chute, where 
the river breaks through a ridge of granite hills. Wc 
landed at the foot of the chute, which is also the foot of 
the poilage. All our duffle had to be carried i:p that 
narrow, rocky trail, which could be seen going up over 
the hill, through the trees, toward the sky. Whe»i yon 
reached the top of the hill you might get a rest, but 'the 
tram turned and went right straight down the other ;iide 
of the hill. As my eye followed the narrow trail up the 
hillside I thought the only thing I could carry over that 
portag! with any degree of comfort would be the family 
.pocketbook. Watching the guides carrying the can les 
up the steep hill. I thought of the old song about King 
George's men — 
"When they were up, they were up, 
And when they were down, they were down; 
But when they were onty half way up. 
They were neither up nor down." 
While the guides made the portage we prepared the 
dinner. .A 2-pound bass that had been caught on a troll 
w.Ts cooked with the bacon, and we made some coffee. 
'Ihere is no need to explain about our appetites. f>:- 
those wdio have gone cruising know how it is themselves 
while those wdio have never gone could not understar.ii 
It anywa) . 
Eveiything was over the portage at last and we were 
on our way up the river. Instead of going to the Big 
Chute we kept to the left, and crossing a portage abou't 
a hall-mile long, were ready to embark on Six IMde 
Lake. This is a beautiftd body of water. It lies in a great 
basin, surrounded by low, forest-covered hills, and 
numerous islands dot its surface. 
When about half-way across this lake we turned to the 
ri.ght, and were soon entering the Lost Channel. The 
Lost Channel is a part ^f the Severn River that leaves 
the main stream and starts off across the country alone. 
X do not know how much of a detour it ;nakes, nor how 
long it isr but it empties into Six Mile Lake, and this 
lake empties into the Severn River near the Big Chute. 
When we turned toward the Lost Channel into Six 
Mije Lake, a solid wall of rock, 30 or 40 feet high, and 
apparently unbroken, lay before us. As we drew n'earej; 
the shore we could see a stream of water pouring out of 
the rock, and finally the channel, where the water had 
cut its way through, wearing the rock dow'n to the level 
of the lake. 
A short distance up the Lost Channel are rapids, and 
part of our duffle had to be portaged; but the guides 
took the canoes up with some things in them. 
While the guides were making the portage, the Doc- 
tor and Mr. C. caught 15 pounds of bass in about thirteen 
minutes. Wetting their hands, they removed the hook 
without taking the fish from the landing net (Major 
Mather's method), and only the injured ones were kept; 
