Mov. 16, if)oi.'| 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
888 
possible, consequently it is believed large game is increas- 
ing rapidly now that deer hounding- is forbidden by law 
and sentiment. 
Wild turkeys, pheasants and other lesser game have 
fared worse in the lower valley of Little Pine Creek, into 
which Block House Run empties above English Center, 
than have the deer and l)ear. Wildcats are ever increas- 
ing, it is believed. Tbeir taAvny hides are seen in the 
thickets occasionally, but few dogs will pursue them. 
They range and prey unmolested upon the favorite game 
of the local and visiting sportsmen. 
Every hill seems to have been swept by fire in this 
village, for on them all I saw charred stumps. When 
the hemlocks Avere cut off, the bark chuted down the moun- 
tains, and the logs run down the gullies on the soft snow 
— gullies so steep-sided that I .slipped down ten and even 
fifteen feet several times while scrambling, as a green 
hand, around the bark piles on dry leaves — following this 
destruction came the dry summer and the swift-footed 
fires, which laid bare the rocks and made way for acres of 
the beautiful fire weed and the subsequent growth of 
scrub oaks and other trees. ILvymond S. Spears. 
In the Ranger Service* 
BY ROWLAND E, ROBINSON. 
X.— The Match Through the Woods. 
We marched at the best speed we could maintain, with 
the prisoners and recovered captives between the center 
and flank files, and taking a course to the eastward of 
the lake, which the Indians call Mem-frow-bow-gook. 
I saw little of Mercy now, but gave her such assistance 
as I could when opportunity offered, for I would not 
have her think my resentment made me capable of an un- 
mannerly spite. She made no more than the commonest 
and necessary speech with me, more than I with her, yet 
I often caught her looking at me in an inquiring, troubled 
way that puzzled me more than that her eyes would drop 
abashed for shame when they caught mine. 
We went on for some distance without adventure or 
molestation, and began to hope that the captors of the 
boats had given over pursuit, when presently they or some 
other force of the enemy were discovered by our rear 
guard, whereupon Major Rogers ambushed our trail, and 
when the French and Indian wolves came sneaking and 
nosing their way along it, we fell upon them so hotly that 
they gave us no trouble thereafter. 
But there was a more unconquerable enemy lying in 
waif for us. We soon got into a very diflicult and dismal 
region of alternate swamps and mountains, where our 
guides were at fault, and we wandered wildly, sometimes 
following a deluding ridge, sometimes trusting to the 
guidance of a treacherous rivulet, till it was swallowed in 
the black mire of a. swamp, and mocked us at our backs 
with the merry chuckle of its free course down the 
heights. Our stock of provisions, consisting mostly of 
the corn taken from the Indian town, was running Ioav, 
and there was apparently no game in this desolate wilder- 
ness nor a fish in its .streams to eke out our scant fare. 
Starvation was confronting us, and, to lessen the chances 
of such. a wretched plight, Major Rogers set free the 
Indian prisoners save one boy, to whom he had taken a 
great fancy, and the girl for whom Mercy had inter- 
ceded, who would not leave her, to make their way back 
to the remnant of their people as best they could. Then, 
to increase our chances of finding subsistence on game 
and roots, he divided the force into small parties, with 
instructions to make for the Coos _ Meadows, where he 
doubted not we would find ample stores awaiting us, sent 
up from Number Four by General Amherst. 
The two women were put in the care of my ^rty of 
four Rangers at my earnest request, for there was no 
one whose safety I so much desired, and I felt there was 
)iot a man of our force who would so faithfully care for 
them. I was mindful that Mercy should not know that I 
had been at any pains to have her with my party, but it 
was evident that she was glad it had so fallen out and 
that the young squaw, Angelique Wadso, attended her. 
Having received our meager share of corn, we separated 
from the others, and shaping our course as well as we 
could determine, set forth on the journey, which was to 
be so desperate to all, so fatal to many. 
My old comrade Murphy was one of the party, and had 
committed to his charge a considerable share of the valu- 
ables taken from St, Francis, principally, I think, Ijccause 
of his well-known avariciousness that would make him 
hold on to the last to the treasure, and partly that his 
toughness and expertness in woodcraft would make him as 
likely as any to carry it through safely. Since coming 
unharmed out of the attack, he had recovered something 
of his spirits, but began to be oppressed with gloomy 
forebodings as rations grew scanter and the way more 
wearisome. 
"It's no use, Paul, now, we'll a' be starved and leave 
our bones in the wilderness," he would say, as he trudged 
doggedly on, yet still holding on to his precious bur- 
den, that was worth less to us now than quarter its weight 
of the commonest food. "Why did I ever set foot on this 
cursed continent?" he would say again and again. "Wae's 
the day I left my ain England" — I coiild never understand 
why he kept up the sham of being the Englishman his 
face and speech so openly belied. 
As we marched now, two guarded the women and two 
skirted out and forward in search of game — a search that 
was seldom rewarded by anything larger than a red squir- 
rel, for this wilderness seemed given over to the abomina- 
tion of desolation, almost deserted by all living things 
save our forlorn selves. Once we got a hare and once a 
spruce partridge, and once we were tantalized with the 
sight of a fresh deer track, so lately made in the moist 
mould that it was not yet filled with the water slowly 
oozing in. That night every one of us dreamed of boun- 
tiful feasts of roast venison, just ready to be partaken 
of, and then vanishing in the chill mist of dawn as we 
awoke shivering from our cold beds to divide the unsatis- 
fying ration of pounded, parched corn. This we eked out 
with such edible roots as we foimd, being greatly helped 
therein by Angelique, who was very wise in the knowl- 
edge of them, as all the Indian women are. But we 
were all getting weak, and so near starvation that when 
we made our camp at night and sat around the fire, which 
was our cheap comfort, we could regale ourselves with 
promises of full fare when we came to civilization again. 
For one true Yankee it was to be pork and beans; for 
another an endless supply of his mother's pumpkin pies, 
but I remember that Murphy ci-aved not roast beef and 
plum pudding, as an Englishman would be apt to, but 
"haggis," which, I believe, is an outlandish dish that only 
a Scotchmarr can abide. 
I cannot describe the woeful days of wandering in the 
desolate wilds, where the continual shade of the inter- 
minable black growth seemed to deepen about us at every 
weary step. It was as if each were visibly taking us 
down into the valley of the shadow of death, and our 
ears were strained in the vast, deathly silence for some 
souttd of other life than our own, which was like soon to 
be at one with the universal, awful stillness. The croak 
of a raven, the howl of a wolf, would have been cheering 
sounds. 
One morning two of our men — Nat Borden and Nathan 
Porter — awoke light-headed, and went staggering off 
through the woods, and did not rejoin us. I was very 
weak in body, but still kept my poor wits and held our 
course by the compass, doing my best to encourage Mercy 
and give her some help in the worst places. There was 
yet so much life in me that the touch of her hand thrilled 
me with delight, so that I thought in the midst of our 
misery and in the face of death, love outlives the weak- 
ticss and fickleness of life, and asked myself. Does it out- 
live life itself? And I wondered that with such likelihood 
of being near the end of it, she did not confess or excuse 
herself. Could she think that I did not know how false 
she was to me, and was she merely using mc as the hclp- 
f ulest means of getting back to her husband ? That was a 
hard thought to hold of this sweetheart, once so tender 
and true. I was many times on the point of confronting 
her with it, yet it seemed a wanton cruelty in such a 
strait as she was in, and I held my peace. 
After the next dismal night poor Murpliy lost his head 
and plunged away into the black shades at a staggering 
run, holding fast to his worthless cumber of brooches and 
coins. After trying in vain to call him back. I went in 
quest of him. and at last came upon him knceh'ng at the 
foot of a great Ircc. digging a hole with his hatcheti to 
liury his treasure. When I spoke to him he struggled to 
his feet and made at mc savagely; then, as suddenly, 
turned and ran at sucii a pace I could not keep him in 
sight, and I gave over following him. Presently a crow 
began cawing- not far oft', and I set about stalking him 
with anxious caution and devoutly as a sinner might for a 
shot that would a lilllc longer ward off starvation, for 
the last of our corn was gone two^ days since, and all the 
day before we had had but half a dozen ginseng roots and 
as many (allow lialls — the root of a kind of orchis — to 
divide among us. 
At last, when he had led me a long roundabout, I had 
the luck to gel aim at him on the top of a dead spruce, and 
I never was so nervous over a shot at a moose. My heart 
stood still in this instant that I pulled trigger, and then 
gave a great bump of joy when through the powder smoke 
he came tumbling all asprawl to the earth. I pounced 
upon him before the breath was gone, and plucked him at 
once, so that his feathers should not betray him to Mercy. 
He was fat, as crows are apt to be in the fall, I dared not 
think on what manner of fare. I had followed him in 
such a wandering course that when I undertook to make 
my way back to my companions, I went all astray, and so 
wandered for what I judged might be two hotirs, till I 
came ttpon a most ghastly landmark. It was Murphy, 
lying stiff and stark beside his buried treasure, from 
which death had not parted him then, nor, doubtless, has 
yet. for there I left the poor body, decently covered with 
a blanket, being too weak to give it burial. I found two 
roots of giiiseng in his pocket, worth more than twice his 
hoard of silver, and having now recovered my direction 
by so fearful a sign, soon found my way to Mercy 
and the Iitdian girl, the first being in great distress over 
my disappearance, though Angelique was trying to pur- 
suade her that she could lead her to the Coos' Meadows. 
My bird, when broiled, gave us a more satisfyang meal 
than we had eaten for some days, and the onl)' one who 
knew what it was not being nice, it was relished by all. 
We resumed our journey in better heart, and toward 
nightfall came to a pleasanter country^ and a stream of 
some size, which the Indian girl declared would bring us 
soon to the Long River, or Connatecook, as she gave it. 
Here were birches, maples and elms, bright with autumn 
colors as a summer garden with flowers. It was like 
sunshine after clouds and storm, that did much to lighten 
our hearts after the depressing gloom of the black gi-owth. 
'*Cui Bono?'' 
CH.^RLESTOwisr, N. H., Nov. 7.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: I may lay myself open to the application to 
myself of the bid Latin proverb which I quoted in a 
letter a few weeks since, Ne sutor ultra crepidam 
(which your types mangled by printing it dator) if 
I touch on the subject of yacht racing, but your quota- 
tion in last week's Forest .\nd Stre.\m from the London 
Field inspires me to ask the above question. 
I am no yachtsrnan. but I am not unfamiliar with salt 
water. I have enjoyed more or less fishing excursions 
along the coast of New England, have rounded the 
.\tlantic coast from Nov& Scotia to New Orleans, and 
crossed the Atlantic under canvas, returning but a few 
weeks before the America brought home the well-known 
cup. 
It seems to me, as a "looker-on in Venice," that it is 
time to put that cup in "cold storage," and open a fresh 
deck for a new deal. Horse racing has been always de- 
fended on the ground that it tended to improve the 
breed of horses, but the contests for the Cup have only 
succeeded so far in developing a class of "racing ma- 
chines," which are utterly useless for any practical pur- 
poses. They can neither carry a cargo, nor enter a 
port where there is much less water than is required to 
float a man-of-war; and they lake the crew of a three- 
master to hoist their enormous canvas. Thej' have not 
the accommodations for a pleasure yacht, and dare not 
cross the ocean except under a '"jury rig." They re- 
quire a millionaire or a syndicate of millionaires to build 
and sail them, and are utterly worthless when the race 
is over! 
Now, my suggestion is this: Let the New York Y. C. 
select the best schooner in their fleet — say the Con- 
stellation — and offer a handsome prize to any foreign- 
built schooner that will come over under her own 
canvas, without the help of a tug, and beat her; and if 
they can do it, get the Herreshoffs to build another 
and send it over to bring it back again. Let the boats 
be of a practical and useful size, 200 or 300 tons, and 
good for after uses, as the old America is to-day. I 
stipulate schooners, for she is one, and one of my an- 
cestors, Capt. Andrew Robinson, of Gloucester, Mass., 
has the credit of being the inventor of that rig. Such 
a contest might develop something new, but, as the 
Field says, it is not worth while to keep racing boats 
which are merely close copies of Herreshoft''s models. 
What earthly use is there in racing boats which need 
a pendulum of the weight of a locomotive engine hung 
from the keel to prevent their tipping over? 
The financial collapse of the Pan-American Exposi- 
tion at Buffalo, calls for another application of my ques- 
tion. What is the use of spending millions of dollars 
in the construction of tawdry, lath and plaster, ginger- 
bread show palaces, which are only to be destroyed 
after the show is over? 
The original Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, of which 
saw the opening, still does duty at Sydenham; the 
Centennial buildings at Philadelphia were taken down 
and the materials used over again in different parts of 
the country; but what has become of the White City at 
Chicago? or will become of the City of Light at Buffalo? 
Nothing but debt and disappointment? 
Let me change my topic: The chapters of l3[r. Rob- 
inson's "Life of a Ranger" in last week's Forest and 
Stre.\m remind me that I was called a few weeks since 
for some information relating to that expedition to St. 
Francis. A lady in Massachusetts wrote me to ask for 
the date of it, as she said her grandfather (named 
Aldrich) was one of the Rangers, and went with a com- 
pany from this town, I found by the town records that 
a company was gathered here and marched across Ver- 
mont to Crown Point, just in time to joint that ex- 
pedition, Sept. 13, 1746. Our "Town History" gives 
qtiite an account of the sufferings of the return march 
after losing their boats, as described by Mr. Robinson. 
Just after I had looked up this question I got another 
letter, asking me for the date of the death of Capt. 
Phinehas Stevens, who defended the old Frontier Fort 
No. 4 at this place against a large force of French and 
Indians for three days, finally repulsing them. This, 1 
found in the village cemetery, and the inscription is 
worth recording, viz.: "Capt. Phineas Stevens, died at 
Chegnecto, N. S., Feb. 16, 1756, who had been for many 
years in the wars, and was Commandant of the Garrison 
in this town, and at different periods had many combats 
with the French and Indians." 
. Speaking of Indians, I found a very fine Indian "torn 
pestle," such as they used to crack their hominy with, 
ly^ing beside the railroad tracks, about half a mile from 
the Adllage, a few days since. It had probably come 
in a carload of gravel used for leveling up the track 
and taken from a great gravel bank about a mile north, 
on the edge of Beaver Meadow, said to have been a 
favorite Indian cornfield. 
A fine buck, with horns just budding, was brought 
into town last week from across the river in Vermont 
b}"^ one of our young sportsmen from the base of 
Skitsewauke Mountain, directly opposite this same 
Beaver Meadow. I wish the Vermont law-givers had 
continued their prohibition a little longer. 
Von W. 
In North Carolina. 
Raleigh, N. C, Nov. 9. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
The hunting season for partridges (no one resident in 
North Carolina ever says quail) began in almost all the 
State Nov. i. Birds are plentiful enough. The weather 
has been dry and unseasonably warm, and they have 
kept in thickets along branches to a great degree. More 
grain and peas were sown than usual. Northern sports- 
men know only a few localities in this State as points 
where good shooting is to be had, but they will find 
partridges in two-thirds of the counties. Deer are more 
abundant than in a number of years, and so are turkeys 
and bear. The east is the best place for these, with the 
New Bern section as a center. 
One of the strangest accidents on record in this State 
occurred not far from Salisbury. Frank Miller Avas 'pos- 
sum hunting. A covey of partridges, flushed by the 
hunters, and scared by the men and dogs and dazzled by 
the light they carried, flew against Miller, striking him 
such a blow in the forehead as to knock him down, while 
the bird, its neck broken, fell dead at his feet. 
Warren Carver, of Cumberland county, nearlv seventy 
years old, but erect and alert, and still the best fox 
hunter in the State, with a great record for chases and 
good hounds, never goes anywhere within twenty miles of 
his bailiwick unless he has his horn and a few of his 
dogs. He went to Wilmington the other day with his 
pack, and joined the local fox club in a chase. On the 
return one of the club asked him how many foxes he 
had caught during his long career. He pulled out his 
notebook and offered his best hound to the president of 
the club if he would guess within 100 of the record. The 
president guessed 1,200 and won the dog, much to the 
surprise and chagrin of Carver, who said he had "taken 
the brush" of 1,281 foxes. 
For some unknown reason, this year, most of it so very 
wet, has been notable for big. snakes in this State. The 
largest rattlers ever killed were shot by B. B. Mallison at 
his farm, near Wildwood Station, Craven county. One 
had forty, the other thirtj^-six rattles. Both were a trifle 
over 6^2 feet in length. One weighed over 16 pounds. 
The negroes of the neighborhood asked Mallison to give 
them the snakes. After taking the rattles and skins, he 
did so. The negroes carefully cooked the snakes and 
had a feast. They declared the "meat was jes' as good 
as chick'n." The flesh was very white and the negroes 
seemed to enjoy their feast. Fred A. Olds. 
Weigfht of Qtiail and "Woodcock* 
The average weight of quail is about 6% ounces; of 
woodcock a trifle less. Quail run from 4 to 7J4 ounces; 
woodcock seldom weigh less than 5, and sometimes 8}4 
ounces, but their mean weight is a h"ttlc less than that of 
fluail. _ 
