^22 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
ISept. 2t, igoi. 
' — • — 
Roanoke Island. 
No spot in all this country is so full of the romance 
of history as Roanoke Island, on the east coast of North 
Carolina, where the first English settlement within what 
is now the United States was made, under the auspices 
of knightl}'^ Sir Walter Raleigh, and all around which 
cluster some of the saddest memories of the "Lost Col- 
ony of Roanoke." 
Leaving Elizabeth City in the steamer Neuse the 
writer made his way southward across Albemarle Sound 
to the historic island. The sound is like a great sea, 
separated from the ocean by the "banks," a vast rampart 
of sand, and. with shallow waters, so fresh as to be little 
more than' brackish, and yellow-colored by the inpouring 
stream. 
It was dark when the steamer reached Skyco, the chief 
port of historic Roanoke, Island. On landing, the first 
sound which broke the stillness of the night was the 
exhaust of an ice factory — a truly unromantic beginning 
of a visit to the most romantic place in all North Caro- 
lina. The chifef town is Manteo, three miles away. The 
driver of the vehicle which took me there cried out in 
cheery tones, "Tranquility House, gentlemen!" The 
passengers got in a buckboard and moved off. A turn 
in the road was made, and then the fragrance of the 
yellow jessamine and burst of song from a mockingbird 
gave a more graceful welcome to the island. The first 
part of the road runs across the Confederate intrench- 
ments, at which the battle of Roanoke Island was fought, 
and at which many North Carolinians were captured. 
Early next morning a pilgrimage was made to the cen- 
ter of attraction — Fort Raleigh. Along venerable roads 
of white sand, beneath pines with which the bright green 
of the holly is mingled, the way lies to the fort. To the 
right, after going a little distance, rise in long lines the 
sand drives, vast mounds and the creation and sport 
of the winds. The landAvard slope of these is as steep 
as 45 degrees, and the climb in the j'ielding sand is a 
hard one. From the crest the prospect is grand. To 
the eastward is the sea, visible here and there tlirough 
the gaps between the vast dunes which mark the "banks" 
as they do also the eastern part of the island. There is 
the sea,, green and heaving, and there the curl of the 
breakers, and borne by the soft wind comes the thunder 
of the surf, almost like an echo. At one's feet lies the 
soimd. yellow as gold, three miles in width, and so shal- 
low that nearly the entire distance can be waded. It is 
practically fresh water, and tideless. so far as the sea is 
concerned, the only fluctuations of level being due to 
the winds. Unvexed by a sail there is an idle waste of 
water as far as the eye can reach. Northward is Curri- 
tuck Sound, almost equally shallow, and the northern- 
most of the wonderful North Carolina .system of sounds. 
In front are Kill Devil hills, the highest on this coast, 
rising TOO feet. In full view is the place where the ill- 
fated man-of-war Huron sank, causing the loss of 115 
lives. There is Nag's Head, with the big hotel, literally 
like a toy house between great waves of sand. Looking 
Avestward, the island is .seett at one's feet. The sand 
•dunes' crest is on a level with the highest pines. The 
slope is long and far from steep on the water side. A 
dune advances steadily, remorselessly, ceaselessl5% into 
the interior of the island. Its touch is death. The green 
tope of the pines project from the inner slope. On the 
sound side are skeletons of those already overwhelmed. 
Not long since the skeleton of a man was found in a sit- 
ting posture, at the foot of the white, polished' skeleton 
of a once stately tree. Over both the waves and sand had 
jolled. Poor fellow! When he took that seat he was 
on the landward side, exhausted, perhaps, in the effort 
to save his life. When found he was on the seaward side. 
No man can say how long the sand had entombed him. 
The "spill of the sand down the landward side of the 
dunes is incessant. Looking doAvn landward into the 
sombw hollow of the pines, it seems quite like an abyss. 
Descending from the height the ride is resumed. Past 
houses, some modern, others gray with age, the road 
winds. The pines are in blossom and the air is filled 
with the pungency of their odor. Grape vines entwine 
the trees, mocking birds are in unusual numbers, and 
many shrubs are made bright as gold'by the jessamine 
flowers. Presently there appears a guiding hand, bearing 
the vvords, "Fort Raleigh." It points eastward, and 
there, 100 yards away, is the fort. 
Surrounded by a worm fence of new pine rails, with a 
rustic gateway of little, upright poles, is the ruin. In its 
center stands a severely simple monument, and low posts 
(flf granite, a foot high, mark the venerable earthwork. 
T,he outlines are perfectly plam. No restoration is needed. 
Tjie greatest height of the parapet above the ditch is 
some two feet. Almost an acre is inclosed by the fence 
and the fort covers little more than a fourth of this area. 
The colonists' log huts surrounded the fort, which was 
their refuge. Within the lim'its of the inclosure are live 
oak, pine, holly, dogwood, sassafras, water oak, and 
cherry trees. Up one live oak clambers a grape vine, and 
at its foot is an English ivy. The monument, or memo- 
rial stone, faces westward, and has this inscription: 
"On this lite in July-August, 1585, colonists sent out 
by Sir Walter Raleigh built a fort called by them 'The 
new fort of Virginia.' These colonists were the first set- 
ilers of the English race in America. They returned to 
England in July, 1586, with Sir Francis Drake. 
"Near this place was born on the 18th day of August. 
1587. Virginia, the first child of English parents born in 
America, daughter of Ananias Dare and Eleanor White, 
his wife, members of another band of colonists sent out 
by Sir Walter Raleigh, in 1587. On Siniday, August 20. 
i.?87. A^irginia Dare was baptizecj. Manteo, the friendly 
chief of the Hatteras Indians, had been baptized on the 
Sunday previous. These baptisms were the first known 
celebrations of the sacrament in the territories of the 
thirteen original States." 
The undergrowth within the inclosure is cleared awaj'. 
Big pines stand here and there — one u long leaf, the 
original growth on the island. The land has never been 
in cultivation, and to this fact is due the marvellous 
preservation of the ancient earthwork. In America .316 
Ti^eftrs 'jeems such a yej-y g.reat lapsf of time, yet so old 
is this little earthwork, which, thanks to the care of the 
"Roanoke Colony Memorial Association," of which Maj. 
Graliam Davis, of Wilmington, is president, is at last 
marked. It is evident that the fort was made of two rows 
of upright pilisades, or logs, between which there was 
earth. The palisades soon decayed, but the earth retains 
its outline perfectly. 
East of the old fort, and less than 200 yards distant, is 
one of the sand dunes, which has become fixed, as in it 
is grass with small live oaks, their limbs thrown wildly 
landward. Sitting there, overlooking the wide waste 
of yellow water, one hears the death-like stillness broken 
by a whispering wind from the fort, which brings with 
it the liquid notes of the mocking bird. No doubt on this 
height the colonists sat many a day, looking seaward, 
toward dear old England, hoping for the sight of a sail. 
On the return toward Manteo a detour is made in 
order to view the famous scuppernong grape vine at 
Meekins' farm. It has four great bodies, or trunks, each 
two feet in diameter, these being on the north side 
of the vine, which is trained southward, fully 300 feet. 
On the dunes are scuppernong vines, and also the vines 
of the black grape. 
It is well to turn back the hand of time's dial-plate and 
see the first impressions of this island. Amadas and Bar- 
lowe were the pioneers, and Barlowe tells the story in 
his quaint, old English: 
"Ye .27th day of Aprile, in ye yere of our Redemption, 
1584, departed ye west of England with two barks well 
furnished with men and victuals. Ye loth of June we 
were fallen with ye islands of ye West lAdies. On ye 
I2th day of July wee foimd shole water, where we smelt 
so sweet and strong a smel as if we had been in ye midst 
of some delicate garden abounding with oderiferous flow- 
ers, by which we were assured ye land could not be farre 
distant. Keepin.g good watch, and bearing but slacke 
sail, ye 4th of July we arrived upon ye coast which wee 
supposed to be a continent, and we sailed along ye same 
T20 miles before we could find any entrance or river 
issuing into ye sea. Ye first that appeared unto us wee 
entered and cast anchor about three harqueburs shotts 
within ye haven's mouth, and, after thanks given to God 
for our safe arrival thither, wee manned our boats and 
went to view ye land next adioimng, and take possession 
of ye same in right of ye Queen's most excellent maje's- 
tie. Wee yiewed ye land about us, being whereas we first 
landed very sandie and low toward ye water side, but so 
full of grapes as y& very beating and surge of ye sea 
overflowed them, we found such plenty, both on ye sand 
and on ye green soil of ye hills, as well as on every 
shrubbe and ye tops of ye high cedars, that I thinke in 
all ye worid ye like abundance is not to bee found." 
The colony planted in 1585 was not revisited until 
1590. Gov. White tells the pitiful story of the "Lost 
Colony of Roanoke." His expedition, when it came 
near the island, "sounded with a trumpet a call, and, after- 
ward, many familiar English tunes and songs, and 
(::alled to them friendly, but we had no answer." On a 
tree on the verv brow of the'sandv bank were the letters, 
"Cro." "At the fort." says White, "we found the 
houses were taken down, and the place sti'ongly inclosed 
with a high palisade of great trees, with cortynes and 
flankers, very fortlike, and one of the chief trees at the 
right side of the entrance had the bark taken off and five 
foote from the ground in fayre capital letters was graven 
'Croatan,' without any cross or signe of distress." White 
returned to England, leaving the great m3'stery unsolved. 
Time seem.? to have solved it. Croatan was on the 
mainland, in what is' now Tyrell county. There the colo- 
nist? seem, to have gone with, or to have been taken 
by. the Indians Thence, after the lapse of many years, 
they appear to have gone to what is now Robeson county. 
There are mp.ny names among the Croatan Indians of 
Robeson which are on the roll of White's colonists, and 
the Croatan- use daily many old English words, long 
obsolete in the mother country. 
But to return to Roanoke Island in this year of grace, 
1901. Back to Manteo runs the route, the traveler 
thinking on the way of Virginia Dare, and Manteo, the 
kind and friendly Indian chief, who gave their names to 
the country and the town. The homes which are passed 
belong, in some cases, to the Dough and Meekins fami- 
lies, and many other names odd to the up-country ear 
are keard, but all are good English names, as beseems 
North Carolina, the most American of all the States. 
Fred A. Olds. 
The Hunt Fever. 
H.'VVE you ever stopped to think wlw it is that you en- 
joy hunting? Have ypu ever analyzed the different sen- 
sations which come with the hunt and determined just 
why it is that you have had such a good tirne on some 
memorable hunt — why you no sooner recover from the 
fatigue of one trip than you are planning for the next, 
even if it is to be taken a year ahead? What is the "hunt 
fever"? Is it the desire to kill, to wound, to pursue, to 
cause suffering or fright in the innocent object of our 
pursuit that gives us pleasure? Is it the possession of 
our victim when by our cunning we have accomplished his 
death, or is it something else which takes possession of 
us when we are boys and clings' to us as old men and 
urges us on to the hunt? 
I have talked with fi-iends and hunters around the fire- 
side at home; around the camp-fire on the plain; in the 
birch-bark shack in Canada; with the canoe men in the 
wilds and swamps of Labrador; when camped in the snow 
of the far North ; when camped among the palmettoes 
of Florida; among the barren peaks of our Western moun- 
tains; deep in the wooded gorges of the Blue Ridge; on 
the ice of the glacier; when half-frozen on a stand for 
ducks on the marsh; when the heat of the sun was blister- 
ing my nose as we rode for hundreds of miles toward a 
promised land, but never yet have I met a man who would 
•say he enjoyed seeing his quarry die. There may be those 
who hunt to kill, who revel in the blood of their victim 
and Avho can see any of the magnificent works of God 
destroyed without a qualm of regret, but I am thankful 
to say they have never been companions of mine. 
The "hunt fever" to me is something more than "to 
kill," There seems to be something born in all of us 
which makes us desire that which seeks to escape us. The 
hunt fever is certainly a manifestation of this, whatever it 
is. I believe it is the surroundings, man's love of nature, 
the freedom, the open air, the trees, the mountains, the 
valleys, water, heat, cold, hardship, thirst, hunger, and 
even pain that is a part of.the hunt, that we enjoy uncon- 
sciously, more than the death or possession of our game. 
It is that desire on the part of man to cope his cunning and 
strategy against that of an animal on its own ground that 
leads him on, that brings him back. In this there is that 
abandon of cares and worries, and the humdrum daily 
channels of thought are forgotten ; it's this which we un- 
consciously enjoy. I cannot believe that it's the death or 
possession of the hunted animal. 
Well I remember as a boy the joy to be found in follow- 
ing a rabbit by his tracks in the snow"; how I carried a 
hatchet, but no gun; the delight when his trail was un- 
ravelled where it led off from the well-tracked thicket; 
how it was followed through wood, meadow, back and 
forth through the worm fence, across the orchard, back 
to the bam lot: on through the garden patch, where the- 
long jumps could be plainly seen straight ahead ; through 
the sage grass, where it was well to make a circle watch- 
ing for a lead-off; to the woods; here the snow crust was 
hard and the trail was lost; now comes the joy of the 
hunt, a circle, a wider circle, no sign of a trail, back to the 
point where lost, straight ahead now, when, "Wah-hoo !" 
almost out from under our feet starts a gray streak, ears 
laid back, jumps fifteen feet long, and, but sav— why di^ I 
throw the hatchet at him? The "hunt fever" did it. I 
would have been sorry had I hit him. , 
Here is his nest, still warm. Boy-like, we put our finger 
-in it before we take after him again. His jumps soon 
shorten, and he leads through the frozen swamp, across 
the sheep lot; he makes for places where the sun has 
melted off the snow, but further on his tracks betray 
him; again we jump him, and, with a yell, take up the 
pursuit afresh. He circles to his starting point, mixes 
his trail with his first, back tracks the same, side leaps, and 
away across the woods to a hollow log he knows. We find 
him and cut him out As a man, I have been known to 
kill him, but as a boy, more often to let him go and run 
him down again, until at last he "holed up" in the ground. 
It has been my fortune to kill the largest game we have 
in America, but to come right down to it, there has never 
been the pleasure in bi.g-game hunting there was in those 
rabbit chases. Those pictures are indelible. 
As a boy, I was laughed at for letting the rabbit go, but 
to-day I am glad I did. Yes, I have killed game, large 
and small, but with me the pleasure has not been in the 
killing; it was the chase, the freedom, the exercise, the 
open air. In the man the beast has appeared. We have 
killed the goose that laid the golden egg. 
Wliy do you hunt ? Why do you kill ? 
C. P. Ajibler. 
Moose Hunting m New Brunswick 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Though not a subscriber to Forest and Stre,\m, I lay 
down my ten cents for a copy with the local dealer every 
Aveek. and have for many years, and hope to for many 
more. Several years ago, through reading the notes, un- 
der heading "New Brunswick Notes," by the late Frank 
Risteen. I became interested in big-game hunting, and 
after consulting with successful friends and studying 
maps. I looked over my list of guides that had been 
recorded in Forest and Stream as being successful with 
their parties, and I began a correspondence, with the re- 
sult of engaging Alex Ogilvy to guide me on the head- 
Avaters of the Tobique River, some twenty miles up the 
right-hand branch, where he has several log camps for 
the convenience of his .sportsmen. This engagement was 
for 1899, but when the time arrived for me to start, I was 
sick abed, and my disappointment was worse than the 
sickness, so I was obliged to send word I could not coine. 
Later on I made everything satisfactory to my gmde for 
his loss of time, and re-engaged him for 1900. ' 
Sept. 29 found me at Perth, one day ahead of time, as 
Alex was to meet me Oct. i. I passed a pleasant after- 
noon and night at the hotel,' a very nice, new house, and 
Mr. Rogers, the landlord, is very accommodating. Dur- 
ing the evening I listened to moose stories of very large 
dimensions by the natives. Every one said I had a fir.st- 
class guide, so I could only feel pl'eased with my pros- 
pects for a successful trip up at the lakes. When the 
train came down the Tobique branch from Plaster Rock 
the next morning, a party of sportsmen got off with sev- 
eral moose heads and one beautiful caribou. I soon 
learned that the party was the one my guide was with. 
As soon as he could get everything ready for them to 
leave on the next train, he started with me, and had our 
supplies put up. and we took the afternoon train for 
Plaster Rock. Here we crossed the riA^er on a one-man- 
power ferry, and loaded our baggage on Mr. Sadler's 
team, which was awaiting us, and drove some eight miles 
to his beautiful farm, where we spent the night. The 
hospitality of these Canadian people cannot be excelled; 
they make you feel perfectly at home as soon as you step 
in the door, and are sociable as if acquainted a lifetime. 
Here I got into my hunting suit and was ready for business. 
Everything was put on board a heavy, two-horse wagon 
and we were off for the green woods, some ten miles. 
Here Ave ford the river, and climb up the steep bank and 
are at the entrance of the tote road. I will not attempt 
to describe this road. Many writers have tried and failed. 
It makes one think of Fifth avenue. New York, it is so 
different. The guide says it is twenty miles through, and 
nobody has ever yet doubted his word. Just before dark 
Ave arrived at an old loggers' camp, unhitched and put the 
horses in one used for a stable. We soon had a good 
camp-fire roaring, with birch logs, and the kettle boiling. 
After supper we spread our blankets on the ground and 
lay down under the shed roof betAveen the two log 
houses. It Avas not long, however, before it was divided' 
to replenish the fire, sound taps and roll up in the blankets 
and go to sleep. It took some time for me to get fitted in 
BetAveen the stones and roots, so as to lie perfectly easy : 
and about the time I had all ready to do some good, sound 
sleeping, Alex informed me that breakfast was ready. 
After brealcfast T took my rifle and started on ahead, leav- 
ing .\lex and the toter to clean up and follow with the 
team. I had some hope of seeing some kind of big 
game, but saw nothing but grouse, and plenty of them. 
Alex killed two with stones- and shot one with a revolver. 
I had never seen anything lil^^ it. They w^rc as tame as 
