FOREST AND STREAM. 
A Walk Down South~L 
For a good many years I have wished to make a long 
bicycle or foot trip somewhere on the North American 
continent. The desire was only increased when I went 
from New York to Buffalo on my bicycle, in 1897. At 
last I saw my way clear to a journey around the Great 
Lakes, on foot, and made my preparations accordingly, 
but at the last moment— within two days of the start. — I 
discovered that I would be obliged to deposit a large 
share of mj' aA'ailable cash as a guarantee that I would 
take my camera, and other duffle out of Canada at the 
port of entry. This was a difficulty greater than the 
necessity of paying $25 for the privilege of hunting in 
any of the provinces; so I changed my plan entirely. I 
.started south instead of north, and now, after nine days 
of travel I find tliat I did more wisely under the necessity 
than I foresaw during the depression naturally attendant 
upon an apparently complete wrecking of my designs. 
On the morning of Friday, Oct. 4, 1901, I left North- 
Wood, N. Y., in a buggy, took the train at Prospect, and 
went to Utica. I carried a packbasket of the ordinary 
Adirondack design, holding "just a little over three 
pecks." as the maker told me. 
' In tJtica, I went to the gun store and bought a .32 cali- 
ber, rim-fire Remington rifle, single shot. I got this rifle 
because I have always used 
that action, and one can do 
better with a familiar weapon 
than with a strange one. It 
was not exactly what I 
wanted. My old .32 was a 
heavier gun, and when I had 
it bored out to take a .38-40 
it did excellent and sure work. 
The one I have now can 
never be bored out. The bar- 
rel is too thin; still, it is a 
tak.e down and can be fitted 
into my pack, if desired. 
After a dinner, I took the 
trolley to New Hartford, 
four miles from Utica, got in- 
to my harness and started up 
the long hill that leads out of 
the village to the southwest, 
the course upon which I had 
decided. I had not gone far 
when I realized that I had a 
too heavy pack, and yet I 
have not seen my way clear 
to^ throwing away more than 
.^ix ounces of what I have; in 
fact, I have added sJ--^ pounds 
to the weight, although I have 
eaten several pounds of the 
contents. From this circum- 
stance I think that the outfit 
is about perfect for my needs. 
I will give a list of my things, 
with their weight: 
Pork, 80Z. ; baking powder, 
40Z.; oatmeal, 8oz.; flour, 2lb.; 
beans, lib. 8oz.; salt, 40Z.; 
butter, lib.; molasses, lib. 
402..; 2 pails, lib. 80Z. (gran- 
ite ware, and ij^qt.); cup, 
knife, fork, 3 spoons, plate, 
80Z.; fryingpan, lib. 2oz.: 
hatchet, lib. 8oz.; sweater, ilb. ; 2 suits light underwear 
(woolen), lib. 120Z. ; i pair heavy woolen drawers, i2oz.; 
3 pairs socks, i pair stockings, lib. 40Z.; pair long 
trousers, 2lb.; sewing kit, 40Z.; tent, sib. 40Z.; blue print, 
lib.; camera. 5lb.; camera plate holder, 31b. i2oz.; hypo. 
80Z. ; trays to develope and fix in, 8 oz.; 2 20Z. bottles 
(developer), 5oz. ; printing frame, lib.; 6 dozen cut film 
(4 by 5), lib. 20Z. ; i dozen plates, i2oz.; dark room lamp, 
lib.; pepsin, Jamaica ginger, vaseline, half pint whisky, 
lib. 40Z. ; cartridges, three boxes, over lib.; basket, 3lb. ; 
rifle case, 6oz. ; writing paper, ink, string, lib. 8oz. — in all 
about 48lbs., without the rifle. It will be seen that islbs. 
consists of photographing materials, over lolbs. of which 
is absolutely necessary for making pictures. 
I sat down at the top of the hill, just out of New Hart- 
ford, and, looking around. It was not a promising country 
for the camper. The farms looked prosperous, and such 
wood lots as I could see were thin and of second growth. 
It seemed especially dreary when it was considered that 
there was little rifle shooting at game to be had short 
of forty miles, so I had been told at the gun store. How- 
ever, after a breathing spell, I started on, and at last 
raised the grade to Paris Hill; but I did not enter the 
village. A little patch of woods on top of a knoll looked 
to be the onh' possible camping place thereabouts. I 
went to it, and looked over the ground. 
It was nearly sun down. The wind was coming colder 
and colder every minute, and it swept under the sapling 
growth in a way that sent the chills through me, for I 
had sweated under the pack. Twice I circled round the 
half acre or so of tree growth, and then saw down in the 
hollow, half a mile aAvay, a better-looking place. 
I shouldered the pack again and vainly tried to climb 
a barbed wire fence vnth it on. I had to take it off, lift 
it over, and then crawl under myself. The exertion took 
my breath. The hollow reached (after three more fences), 
it proved to be better than it looked. A little brook ran 
among the thickets of small hemlock and second growth 
beeches. 
Mv tent is of home manufacture. It is a rubber blan- 
ket 6 feet long by 3 feet 10 inches wide. This serves as 
a top. I cut four poles, and one of these — a five-foot 
one — I tied to two saplings, horizontally above the 
ground, about 5 feet up. . The other three poles. I laid 
from this one to the ground so that I had the frame- 
work of a lean-to camp. I spread the rubber blanket on 
top of the three poles and tied it taut with string run 
through corner eyelet.«. It sloped at jin angle of about 
40 degree?, 
To the two side poles I then made the sides fast. The 
sides are right angle triangles, made of cotton factory 
drilling, painted with boiled linseed oil. About every 18 
inches on the sides are sewed loops, in each of which 
a piece of chalk line, i foot or more long, is tied. If the 
poles are set just right, the sides hang plumb when tied 
to their places. But when I tied the fish lines to the 
poles the bottoms of the sides were clear of the ground. 
The poles were too high. However, I did not remedy 
the defect, I was tired and hungry, and it was getting 
late. I learned better later on. 
The rear of the blanket came down to about 15 inches 
of the ground. This space, which, in a spruce bark camp 
is filled with a log, I stopped up with a strip of cloth, 
oiled, like the sides, about 4 feet long and supplied with 
loops for tjdng, on the corners and in the middle of the 
sides. » 
The tent faced a big elm tree. It was pitched in a 
thicket of small hemlocks. The ground sloped away 
from the tree and, consequently, the fire was higher than 
my feet and my feet higher than m.y head, when I came 
to lie down for the night; but this defect was not appar- 
ent when I started my fire, with dry hemlock twigs, 
Jcindled it with dry hemlock branches, and fed it with 
some green maple and beech sapling wood, which I cut 
with my hatchet. I carried in a lot of fallen branches, up 
to the size of my arm, and a few dry blocks of wood, 
which had been left when log ends were cut oft'. 
The fire was warm and cheerful. It flared up delight- 
fully. I put on the three-pint granite ware pail, for which 
I have a*eGiver, swinging it from a pole. The water in it 
THE BIRD CtlFFS OF MYGGENOES, FAROE ISLANDS. 
soon boiled and a cupful, with extract of beef and salt in 
it, brightened the aspect of things quite as much as the 
fire did the thicket. Bread and butter, Avith some roast 
beef, made a substantial meal, the need of which I was 
too tired to feel till I began to eat and drink. 
The last glow of the day was scarcely gone when I 
changed all my clothes, and put on my thick woolens — 
my sweater and my long trousers — I walk in bicycle 
knickerbockers. With my rifle in its case, out of the 
dew, my fire flaring under a new pile of wood, and the 
wind swaying the sides of my tent gently, I lay down on 
a bed of hemlock boughs, and soon fell asleep. It was 
after 7 o'clock. 
Suddenly, I awakened with a start. A great, cold wave 
had swept down my back from my neck. The fire had 
burned to coals, the heat of which went up the tree in- 
stead of coming down the slope into my tent. I fixed 
the fire again and huddled over it,, for I was chilled 
through. In the interval I prepared for breakfast. I put 
a cupful of beans to soak in the small pail. After awhile 
I was able to go to sleep again. I was awakened again 
and again by the cold, and each time I thought of the 
woolen shirt, which I had forgotten to put into my pack. 
It would not have been enough to keep me warm that 
nis-ht, but it would have helped. I took down one side 
of"the tent, and that partly covered me, and I slept longer 
than before. Still, I was miserable. 
At daybreak I put the beans to boiling,, with a slab 
of salt pork, and then tried to shoot a red squirrel I 
could hear chittering near the camp. I saw it running 
once, but did not get a shot. It was wilder than some 
deer I have seen. After a while the beans were almost 
done, and I began to eat. Something was the matter, but 
I ate all but a spoonful, and washed the pail in hot water. 
I remembered then I had not poured off a couple of 
boilings of water: so the beans were rank to the taste. 
They were filling and I started out about 7:30 o'clock, 
feeling pretty good. 
I took a course nearly west, overland. I crossed 
barbed wire, split rail and board fences; passed through 
stubble corn, oats, pasture, meadow and wood lots. I 
had tried the rifle on a fence p'ost the day before, at 20 
feet. I missed the po.st. But the sights were out of line. 
I remedied that, and the second shot was a nail driver. 
Now I wanted to "bleed ihe rifle." The chance came in 
a wood near the Oriskany creek watershed. A ftock 
of blueiays came in range, and I .shot one at 20 yards. T 
skinned and dressed it for supper, and traveled on. down 
into the Oriskanv Creek valley. Once I saw a partridge: 
it rose 40 yards away, and flew faster than any I ever 
saw before; even the chipmunks fled wildly. 
After awhile I began to get tired; then hungry, and aS 
10 o'clock I was discouraged. The State line was a long 
way off — so far that I doubted if I could reach it At 
noon I was heart sick; my shoe brace irritated my left 
foot, and my head thumped. Not even apples, of which 
I had all I could eat. could revive me. I stopped beside, 
a brook, and, as it looked like rain, put up the rubber] 
blanket on the hillside, and built a fire of dead wood, and] 
boiled some water for beef tea. My courage came back 
as I drank. A red squirrel came out of a hole in a near- 
by walnut, but was back in again before I could get my' 
rifle. I ate some bread and drank two cups of the tea, 
and made ready to start on again. I glanced up the j 
brook, and, on the end of a hemlock stub limb, saw a' 
red squirrel eyeing me. I shot, and it flew back, end over 
end, and caine down in some briers. A glance showed,; 
the butternut tree squirrel to be poised over its homej 
entrance. I fired at it. and this one tumbled down, and ' 
landed in the brook. I saw it was alive yet, and ran to 
head it off. Btit the little beast, though shot through 
the centei o{ the body with a .32 ball, as I could see, got 
into a ground hole. The other squirrel, too, was gone, 
though it bled. My double had changed to a fluke. 
At Oriskany Falls T stopped to write some postal 
cards. Three fine-looking hounds were near the post- 
office, among other dogs, and these showed great interest 
in me, barking loudly. I was told that birds were very 
ivild thereabouts, and that fox-hunting was the leading 
sport. The memory of ray cold night in camp caused me 
to add a 5^-4 pound blanket to 
my outfit, and I have not once 
regretted this added weight, 
just above Sollsville I de- 
' cided to stop for the night. I 
went down the sand pit road 
to the railroad track, where 
there was a good spring, and 
prepared to pitch my tent on 
the hillside, where there was a 
little shelf. I made some pan- 
cakes first — cup of flour, three 
tablespoonfuls of oatmeal, ba- 
king powder, butter, salt and 
water— and ate them with rel- 
ish. Butter and molasses went 
well on them. A glance at the 
sky, after I was through eat- 
ing, caused a severe look in 
that direction. Long threads 
and streamers of gray clouds 
were reaching over the land, 
and some thicker clouds ob- 
scured the sun in the west. I 
promptly recollected an old 
house down toward Oriskany. 
Falls, a few rods on the main 
road. I went to it at once, 
pack and all. 
The building had been a 
dwelling, and there was a cel- 
lar under it, an orchard 
around it, and a good, shin- 
gled roof over it. But it had 
some hop boxes, a cutter, ai 
pair of bobs and, in one end,^) 
a mow of hay. It was just the 
place I needed. At dusk I 
rolled up in the blanket, drew; 
the rubber blanket over alls 
and snuggled down to slee 
Before morning it pourec 
down in sheets of rain, and '. 
shuddered to think of myself on that hillside, with th< 
water gathering in a pool on the shelf where my bed' 
was to have been. 
About 9 o'clock in the morning I awakened., finally. I 
saw a mouse in the hay, and, with some misgivings 
looked at my pack. Sure enough, the rodents had beei 
in it. They had gnawed into the flour sack and eaten 
some of the bread crusts. Neither the oatmeal nor thts 
beans had been disturbed. As T carry my flour, beans 
and oatmeal in cloth sacks, it was easy to patch the hole 
in the flour sack. _ But I had learned to hang my basket 
to a beam, when in barns, especially. 
I ate a couple of fine, large apple.s, and some pancakes 
for breakfast, about 11 o'clock, cooking between show- 
ers, a few rods from the house, by a fence. 
The rain and sore feet kept me from moving on. That 
afternoon I boiled what was left of my beef lunch and the 
blue jay. A couple of spoonfuls of oatmeal in the brothj 
with a little salt, made a fine and nourishing food. Ai 
dusk I got a pail of water, around by the railroad, and 
was asleep with the crows. 
It cleared during the night, and grew cold. I ha^ 
reason to be thankful for the blankets then. Not evei 
hay could have kept me warm, with the ice forming 01 
mv water pail. 
"For breakfast I rebelled the blue jay and beef, an< 
added more oatmeal and an apple. The result was nour 
ishing, but to my taste not very good. _ 
I started at 7:40 o'clock A. M., and in a few minute 
passed through Sollsville. A boy told me that I was li 
miles from Eaton, which seemed a long way, then, as 1 
had hoped it was not more than 7 or 8 by the map. Bu' 
at Bouckville, two miles beyond, I learned that Eator, 
was only 4 or 4}^ miles further. The long distance hafl 
made me tired to think of it. But the short one made mt 
buoyant. I started on a 3-mile-an-hour clip. 
Now and then I met a wagon or rig. Greetings weff, 
always passed. At Bouckville my pack basket was recog 
nized as of the backwoods variety: "Where's yer deer? 
was the hail. Mostly, however; it was supposed that 
was "sellin' sumthin'." - 
About two miles from Eaton, say at 10 o'clock, I sav 
an old man and his wife painfully digging potatoes fron ' 
a half-acre patch. ^ 1 
"How de do," they said, with nods; and I replied witi 
a "How de do," and a nod. ! 
"Ye ain't loolcing' for. work, air ye?' the old; mat 
"No-o," I answered; "I hadn't calculated to." 
I 
