162 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Aug. 31, 1901. 
The Three Os* 
"If I could put my woods in song, 
I And tell wbat's there enjoyed. 
All men would to my gardens throng, 
; And leave the cities void."— Emersoa, 
A WELL-KNOWN writer has said "that physical health 
is a necessarj' condition of all permanent success." 
The- man who seeks ozone, health and pleasure can 
secure all that he desires, for very little money, if he will 
visit the Midland Lake country of the Dominion, lying 
northeast of Lakes Huron and Erie, and between these 
lakes and the Ottawa River. 
Many parts of this region are seldom visited by pleasure 
seekers, and the sportsman can find game and fish in 
abundance. The country is a network of lakes and 
streams, all navigable by canoe, and here may be seen 
strange people, and Indians, with bear, deer, beaver and 
otters for the gunner, while the fly-fisher can take bass, 
pike and trout, in quantities to satisfy the most exacting. 
The summer is the close season for many species of 
furred and feathered game, and the wardens are numer- 
ous and vigilant in the enforcement of the laws. This 
paper will not treat of great hunting feats, nor will any 
"fish stories" be narrated for the credulous, its pur- 
pose being to call attention to the sports of camping, 
canoeing and the camera practice. 
The writing of these words has borne my fancy back- 
ward to the gracious past, during the years of which my 
life out of doors has filled so large a portion. As I 
trace the, to me, magic words, visions of camping scenes 
in the far northern forests, beneath giant pines, tempest- 
twisted cedars, and somber spruces, pass before "the eye, 
where the high-blazing camp-fire cheered a group of four 
congenial spirits, cruising for health and recreation. Pic- 
tures of pleasant bays, where the deer splash and paw the 
marted lilypads; sandy beaches with the mists of early 
morn mounting skyward, where four merry swimmers 
plunged and gambolled in the refreshing water, like seals 
in their native element; shimmering lakes, foaming cHffs, 
rock-ribbed coasts, alternate with sunny hills covered 
with bracken and shady groves, where trout brooks lave 
the mossy rocks. 
Again in memor}"- the game is stalked on placid waters 
beneath the bending branches of forest trees, with In- 
dian noiselessness of paddle; or we picture remembered 
storms in the forest, when 
"The rain beat down in sheets, the thunder's roar. 
Came very fierce, as vengeful shots from ships of war;" 
or happy weeks passed sketching in a mountain sugar 
camp 'neath golden maples. We live over again the time 
spent in the lumber camp, where the jolly shanty boy 
makes merry. We hear the sturdy prompter as he calls 
upon all to "clear away for a stag dance," and the African 
cook tunes his fiddle while singing: 
"When de sun puts on his ebening gown, 
Wid de shiny purple seams. 
An" lays him down in twilight town 
1 Fo' to rest in the house ob dreams: 
' Den I gets de fiddle an' I gets de bow, 
I" An' I sits where de shadows creep, 
i An' I plays um fas' an' I plays um slow, 
1 i An' I plays me mos' to sleep," 
Again we are beating up against a stiff breeze, the 
racing waves crashing with loud reports on the bows ; or 
we toil at the carry, damp Avith perspiration and the mist 
from the roaring cataract; all these pass before the 
dreamer with the vividness of a panorama, as, seated by 
the evening grate, we gaze upon the camera trophies. 
Now "nature takes us back once more within the horizon 
of her magic, and the heart of manhood is born again, 
and one is put at once into fairyland." 
Says the great educator, Horace Mann, "All through 
the life of the high-minded, but feeble-bodied man, his 
path is lined with memory's grave stones, which mark the 
spots where noble enterprises perished for lack of physical 
vigor to embody them in deeds." 
Few American men carry athletic habits into man- 
hood, but a mature man should take far more exercise 
than boys, if he would keep out the hands of the physician. 
The Athenian phrase of contempt for a man who_ knew 
nothing was. "That he could neither read nor swim." 
While the sports of yachting, horsemanship, iceboating. 
etc., can be cukivated by only a favored few, because of 
the heavy expenses attendant, the sports of which I speak 
can be enjoyed by nearly all. 
The "Merry Four" made one trip to a lagoon where 
serpents glide and turtles bask," to procure frogs' legs 
for a camp fry. The bay stretched into the forest for 
some miles. The party came upon a small, partially 
cleared space, where stood a residence of logs and bark. 
The occupants were busy outside, in a costurne consist- 
ing of a calico apron only, which was distributed un- 
equally among the three, the children being naked. Our 
noiseless approach gave them no opportunity to hide, and 
the mother seized a shotgun and stood off the party. 
Permission to "take" her residence was finally given, 
"afternoon dress" was donned and the half-tone shows 
her "home, sweet home." We m.et boys in the tamarack 
swamps who had never been four miles from the shanty 
in their lives. When one thinks of the future condition 
of such children, it is a matter of much concern. The 
men work during the sutnmer and fall getting out logs, 
piling and peeling them for a mere pittance. Their pov- 
erty and the toil and privations they endure may be 
guessed from the photographic record showing their 
home life. Few occupations call for greater physical 
strength and endurance of adverse conditions than the 
work of the lumberman, and there is opportunity for 
needed mission work among them. 
Canoeing upon the great inland lakes is a sport little 
like the boy play that passes by that name among those 
who frequent our fish ponds and rivers during the sum- 
mer. In the wilderness boys or youths would soon come 
to grief. This is to be expected from the limited opportu- 
nitv they enioy for practice. 
The Indians accustomed to the craft from childhood 
are so skilled in its management that almost universally 
they challenge one's admiration. They will proceed 
further in a day and much more swiftly than a white man 
can travel with a horse, and at the same time as safely as 
he. 
It is a maxim that "ten pounds of cedar will carry one 
hundred pounds of man." A canoe weighing 100 pounds 
and twenty feet in length will float safely four average 
men with all needed luggage. It should be decked in 
for a space at bow and stern, and should have a good, 
high coaming of brass or copper, with air chambers at 
sides — these, with thick cork floats at bottom of each dun- 
nage bag, will float the equipment in event of a capsize 
until the swimmers can bale out and embark again. 
The bow and stern paddlers may use the "pudding stick," 
but the other two should have double-blade paddles. 
Thus equipped, it is easy to cover fifty miles daily unless 
several portages must be made. 
A good canoe should be made from timber well soaked 
in boiled oil before it is finally nailed in place. Copper 
nails should be used, and it would be wise to supervise 
the construction in person. It may cost as much as a 
good horse, but it eats nothing on the journey or after- 
ward, and it requires no more care to keep it in working 
condition than a horse. 
I was a pedestrian for some years, and a horseman 
for twenty years or more, and I rode thousands of miles 
in all parts of the country, hence from practical experi- 
ence I can affirm that the expense far exceeds that in- 
curred in canoeing, while both methods compel one to 
travel within civilized limits, and the opportunity for the 
study of natural objects is very limited. 
It is, happily, now no longer necessary to "rough it" in 
the old-time phrase. We may thank the alcohol lamp and 
the chafing-dish with its possibilities for our emancipa- 
tion from the filthy oil stove and the dyspeptic frying- 
pan. Food, both palatable and nutritious can now be 
prepared, and that quickly. No bricks can be made with- 
out straw, and the "Ralston system" and other useful 
books enable a thoughtful person to provide the proper 
food to produce "physical bricks." I have collected over 
two hundred tested recipes for camp cookery, especially 
selected with reference to the health and the proper nutri- 
tion of the body when subjected to great physical exer- 
tion. , 
With food wisely chosen and carefully cooked, the daily 
exertion of the muscles of the upper part of the body 
brings back the hunger of boyhood, and "good digestion 
waits on appetite, and health on both." 
It is essential to advance mentally as well as physically, 
if one would reap the full benefit of the outing. A note 
book should be carried in the pocket, and a daily record 
made of all the animals and their habits; the birds that 
one observes, with their peculiarities; the trees, shrubs, 
flowers and vines faund in the region traversed, to which 
scientific names should be added. The record-habit once 
formed. ■» with photographic blue prints .of each object, 
which are quickly and cheaply made, to embellish the 
pages of the book, will cause the trip to be remembered 
wth rare delight. 
Let each have his part of the work assigned, and let 
the hygiene of the cam.p be rigidly attended to. The Sun- 
days should be set apart as a "quiet hollow, scooped out 
of the windy hill of the week." It is a good time to di- 
gest an excellent book like Van Dyke's Little Rivers, a 
book that inspires enthusiasm in any soul not dead. 
The daily plunge should not be neglected. I enjoy the 
tonic bracing effect of the cold water in the early morn- 
ing, and I "tone up" after the exertions of the day by a 
good swim in all ways the last thing at night. The daily 
activity makes the body proof to the cold, and " a cold" 
as well. 
The only persons disqualified for the sports are those 
subject to rheumatism, grumbling teeth, and those igno- 
rant of the art of swimming. It matters not how dys- 
peptic, consumptive, or nervous a man may be, the "balm 
of the woods" will heal him. 
I met at Chicoutimi, up the Saguenay River, a lawyer 
from New York city one day in September, who, by the 
advice of his physician, entered the wilderness in the 
early spring. He was a sufferer from weak lungs and 
nervous prostration, to such a degree that medicines were 
powerless to aid him. Weak and emaciated, supported 
b}"- a companion, he entered the forest almost ready to 
abandon hope. No one would dream that the ruddy- 
cheeked, staJwart figure now seen could ever have been 
that of a trembling invalid. When I met them, they had 
just come through a terrible contest with a bear, at close 
quarters. Their suits of buckskin were clawed and torn 
to strings, but they were victors, with some wounds, but 
none serious. 
That there is danger, it will be admitted; so there is 
danger almost everywhere, except in one's rocking chair 
or the summer hammock; yet what man would wish to 
spend his vacation in either? Danger lends the sports 
exhilaration. "Are you afraid?" says Emerson, to swim 
that river? Then swim it. Do you shrink from the dizzy 
height of yonder giant pine? then climb it and "throw 
down the top," as they do in the forests of Maine. If 
dny man objects to the sports because of the danger it 
may be concluded that his case is hopeless. 
"The wise and active conquer difficulties 
By daring to attempt them. Sloth and folly 
Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and hazard. 
And make the impossibility they fear." 
Lastly it must not be inferred that vigor can be stored 
up in a few short weeks, and doled out during the re- 
maining months of the year. One must keep in condition 
at all times. Supple the muscles and tendons daily dur- 
ing the winter by dumb-bell exercises, daily runs, boxing 
gloves, wrestling — any way you choose — only keep up 
your activity. I, during the winter months, keep my 
m.uscles in training for the double blade by the use of a 
length of iron pipe, weighing 12 pounds. I set my limit 
to paddle with this 1,000 times daily, through a radius of 
two feet; ths is equivalent to moving some tons one foot 
high. I use the ring exercises, and the suppling move- 
ments for arms, spine and legs daily, and when the sum- 
mer opens I am fit for fifty miles a day of paddling with- 
out stifl'ness or soreness of muscles. _ 
Begin, if ailing, from any cause, with five or ten miles, 
and a good rest; then try twelve, and after a week push 
on to twenty miles. Always stop short of exhaustion, and 
you will be rewarded with such health as can be secured 
in no other way so easily and so pleasantly. Eiko. 
Sunshiny Spots. 
In the recesses of memory there is one little favored 
space that I have styled to myself "Sunshiny Spots"— a 
little place where I store away fond recollections and 
happy meditations of the days spent afield and afloat 
It is a sort of after-dinner, drawing room, fireplace af- 
fair, wherein are arranged all the pretty, delightful scenes, 
amusing and intere.sting incidents, notes gleaned; then 
forgotten till some recurring similarity again calls them 
to mind; a thorough inventory of these hidden treasures 
may hardly be taken, scenes, mcidents, anecdotes, lessons, 
teachings, pathos, humor, sentiment, poetry, and what 
not being carefully shelved, side by side. 
Some of the pictures are dimmed by time; perhaps dust- 
covered in a long period of unbroken obscurity; but at 
some tim.e, in some manner, a thing we would have 
•deemed long forgotten steps forth, shakes himself, 
stretches himself, pulls out the kinks and aches contracted 
in such an age of inaction, and before we have time to 
realize, this hobgoblin form pirouettes before our 
astonished gaze, leading us a merry chase o'er meadow, 
dale, and wood, luring us to sequestered rice lakes, where 
the gentle zephyrs of springtime and the cool winds of 
autumn rustle musically 'mongst the dead and dying 
rushes which furnish us a favoring blind where we catch 
tbe wild fowl in its evening and morning flight; in this 
position, surrounded by bobbing decoys, we enjoy a good, 
old-fashioned day's shoot, as of yore," hearing by turns 
the whistle caused by the rapid vibration ui countless 
ducks; wings— the quack, quack of the mallard— the 
booming of the prairie hen from across the meadows, 
and [ha solemn notes of the whip-poor-will. 
Following another path, this little will-o'-wisp guide 
takes us up the dry bed of some time-run creek, Avherc 
grapevines trail along its sides; as our steps fall on the 
dry, rustling leaves, whirr, whirr! breaks upon our 
startled senses, and we perceive a gray object darting 
away through the tangle of brush and vines, the scene 
surrounded by a beautiful framework of many-colored 
autumn leaves, defying description; we follow up, and 
ere nightfall have our hunting pockets well filled with 
the gaysome pheasant chap. 
Now he will seat us in a boat, and in an incredibly 
short space of time supply us with a rod, and we 
are below some moss-covered, age-decayed mill-dam, 
where the sun, shining on the emerald covering of the 
old planks and stones, reflects upon the water a sheen, 
rich and cool. Our lure is cast in the quiet pool, the line 
deftly guided imder some o'ershadowed spot, a shadowy 
form, darts forth, and after battle royal, the gamy bass 
is landed — ^that noble fish of our clear running streams 
which fights for life, inch by inch, till, the final struggle 
ended, he is forced to yield, an unwilling and quivering 
captive. 
Then we are led away to the mountain streams; al- 
readv is the proper fly chosen for us, cast in the most 
favorable place, the skillful twist given, when a spark- 
ling flash reveals a pair of expanded jaws, vanishing 
beneath the surface as suddenly as they appeared, carry- 
ing with them fly and leader; "but after gamy battle our 
good fairy secures for us the speckled beauty, praised 
in poetry and prose. 
With rapid strides he takes us to the Western prairies, 
where the late summer winds bend the grasses in gentle 
and undulating motion, swaying the landscape like a 
golden, billowy sea. Here we are furnished with a hand- 
some brace of dogs, and have all manner of easy and 
difficult shots at the prairie hen as it flushes and sails 
away over the waving grass, furnishing us with stat- 
uesque pictures as inspiring and fascinating points are 
scored by canine intelligence. 
Ii-.deed. a prince of entertainers is this little memory 
gnome of ours. On a bright November morning, when 
the frost is sparkling on the grasses and the foliage is 
burning in the dying year, he carefully leads us to some 
old^ weed-grown, tangled brier thicket, in an old-fash- 
ioned rail-ferice corner. Here the dog soon scents a 
bevy of quail, and we have fine shooting for the next 
short hour, in this hard corner and heavy cover, flush- 
ing from his retreat this happy companion of boyhood 
da3fs; as he darts forward with a rush and whirr of 
wings, and seemingly lightning speed, we forget how in 
many a long, solitary ramble we have been cheered and 
entertained by his cheery "Bob White, Bob White," 
and our guns play sad havoc with these merry, innocent 
bands. 
Again Jumping West, we are chasing the antelope over 
the plains, and, as they go galloping, soon disappearing 
behind some friendly swell, we wipe our eyes, and thank 
this little sprite for his wondrous goodness. 
But what is that dense, moving, black mass away to 
the west? Buffalo? Why, so it is; and here we had 
thought they were nearly extinct; for, as we dash into 
the herd and fire from the saddle, a huge form stumbles, 
sways, plunges forward and it is buffalo, sure enough. 
As we contemplate the vastness of this herd, we won- 
der could so sad a fate befall them as is presented to us 
in a few brief years? But where are they now? 
The buffalo left far in the rear, we find ourselves at 
the foothills; thence we wander into mountain and roclcy 
defile, deep chasm, overhanging cliff, or thicket-bound 
patches, where the pine and mountain ash form com- 
panionship in the shadows of towering peaks. Here we 
kill the elk; fight the silver tip and black bear, then scale 
still higher and show our prowess in the chase by bring- 
ing into camp the Rocky Mountain sheep and goats, 
which defy all laws of nature in perilo.us leaps down the 
slanting slopes, where foothold seems impossible and 
distance insurmountable. 
Ever restiA'-.e, we fly on the wings of the wind, to the 
Northwest where we battle with the salmon and shoot 
the Denny pheasant, whose brilliant feathers and extend- 
ing plumes call forth_ admiration and delight from the 
lover of the beautiful in nature. 
What a trip! A whole life of brightness called from 
its hiding place! We all have this little pocket of sun- 
shine in our memories. Shall we allow clouds to hover 
above and shadow its brightness? Shall we allow these 
memories to be looked upon as a "matter of course" in 
our short lives, and accept them as the consequence of 
our existenc?? Were it not better to drive the clouds 
away, keep the sun shining, and look upon them as a 
teaching from Him, the Maker of Heav^ and Earth — 
