462 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Dec 14, igot. ^ 
My Vacation for 1901. 
I have been a constant reader of the Forest and Stream 
from No. i, Volume I, and have always been interested 
in everything written and said in that paper. I have 
read "How I Shot the Big Buck," "How I Killed My 
First Moose," and all those stories, until I made up my 
mind that I must go and try my hand. Must shoot a 
moose. Now, I am not as young as I used to be, was 
not in condition, and knew that it would require some 
effort on my part, at least to do the tramping in the 
woods, but thought if I could secure a suitable com- 
panion (and this was a sticker, after everything that 
had been written in Forest and Stream for the last two 
or three months about finding a suitable companion), I 
would be all right. I Icnew a young doctor, D. D. S., who 
was a good shot, had been a good companion on little 
excursions, and was entirely reliable; did not think he 
would mistake me for a deer, or anything of that kind, 
but believing that writers in Forest and Stream perhaps 
knew more about M'ho would be a good companion than 
I, I hesitated some time before speaking to him about 
it. I ventured at last, however, to call on him one even- 
ing and said: "Doctor, how would you like to go up 
in Maine?" He is no no.vice at this, having been there on 
several occasions, and I concluded that he would be just 
the rnan for me. He said : "I will be pleased to go with 
you if you will promise me one thing, and that is, if we 
occupy the same camp that you will not snore as you 
did the last time we were at the lake together." This I 
could not do, as I knew my failing in that particular. 
After some persuasion, however, he decided to go. We 
then began getting together and packing our traps. I 
was anxious to take everything. I thought we ought to 
take a Saratoga trunk. The Doctor thought we could get 
all we needed in two pack baskets, and as he had had the 
experience, I acquiesced. 
A few days before we were to leave home a Mr. L. 
called on us (we will call him Alex for short) and said 
he understood that we were going up in Maine, and if 
we had not decided upon a place he would like to have us 
go with him to Long Pond, as he was the owner of a log 
house there and would like to have us enjoy his camp 
with him. His wishes we acceded to at once, and as he 
had some business on the way, he left here on Oct. i6. 
I left on the morning of the i8th, spent the day with 
friends in Troy, and the Doctor joined me at 8 o'clock 
in the evening. We left Troy at 11:30 P. M., on the 
Boston & Maine, and as there were but few passengers in 
the car, djd not take a sleeper, and also for the reason 
that I had had an experience in a sleeper where we were 
likely to have sportsmen get on. That time we left Boston 
at 9 P, M. All went well until we arrived at a station 
where several hunters got on. They came in, one sing- 
ing, "We won't get there till morning." "There, by Jove, 
I have left my rifle!" "Say, George, where is my 
satchel?" "Dick, hand my pack basket over here, will 
you?" "Do you know, I believe I left my sleeping bag 
home !" "Say, Billy, did you get your shells ?" "Ta-ra- 
ra^ra-boom- de-ay !" By that time some one from a berth 
said, "Say, fellows, give us a rest." The reply was, 
"That's what we want — rest. Can't you give us a 
chance ?" "Now, keep still, will you ? We want to sleep." 
"Well, so do we." "I vow, I hope they won't forget to 
check that baggage." About that time they all began to 
whisper, "Say, do you thtnk they will be there to meet 
us? I haven't had a letter from Lou in two weeks. 
Darn me if I believe he will be there! Never saw any- 
thing like it in all my life. Never ansAvered my last let- 
ter, and I don't know if he has engaged a guide for me 
or not." Then another passenger from an upper berth 
said: "Gentlemen, will you please keep still?" They 
answered back from down below, "Well, who are you?" 
After a time they quieted down, and the most of us 
dropped off to sleep. I know I did, for I was awakened 
by some one giving me a gentle nudge in the ribs and 
saying, "Mister, will you jr'-ase stop snoring?" I made 
up my _ mind to lie awake the rest of the night rather 
than disturb any one^ with my snoring, but there was 
no occasion for this. At the next station six more got on, 
all bound for the happy hunting ground. Two of these 
had left some of their duffle in the railroad station, and 
they talked over how to word a telegram when they got 
to the next stopping place, and this or something of the 
kind was repeated at every station until we arrived at 
Bangor at 5 o'clock in the morning. 
Each of us had two seats to ourselves, and we arrived 
at 6 o'clock 'Jr. the morning. When we left Troy two 
young men with rifles got on the train, and seeing us with 
rifles, asked if -we \yere going to Maine. We said we 
were, and found them very pleasant and agreeable. As 
this was their first hunting trip for deer, they made in- 
quiries from the Doctor, and we learned that they were 
to accompany US- until' the next evening at 7 o'clock. We 
had breakfast at the .station in Boston, and while strolling 
around there I think I never saw so ijiany hunters to- 
gether. Some were just going into the woods, some were 
just returning. Men with pointers and setters who were 
going out for the day for woodcock and grouse, men with 
beagles for rabbits, and others who were going to the 
shore for duck. They were a jolly, happy, good-natured 
set of men, and all with the glorious anticipation of a 
good time. You know this going gunning is not all in 
the game you get. The anticipation is quite as much, and 
often more, than the reality, but how can any man be dis- 
appointed after having a pleasant day afield. 
We left Boston at g o'clock. The day was beautiful. 
Our friend Alex joined us in Waterville at 4 P. M. We 
arrived at Bangor about 6 o'clock, and left there at 6:30 
for Greenville, which_ wa=. to be the end of our trip for 
the day. Our young friends left us at Milo Junction 
about 7 o'clock, and in a letter just received from them 
they report having had a glorious time, and having shot a 
large buck and two does. We arrived at Greenville some- 
what behind time, and were driven over to the Moose 
Head Inn, kept by Messrs. Walker & Wood, two well- 
known hotelmen who always make their guests more than 
welcome. After a good supper, and while seated around 
the big fireplace enjoying bur cigars, we had pleasant 
talks with those who had just returned from the woods. 
and some who were to start out the next week for deer. 
In the morning we found that it had grown much 
colder, and the ground was frozen hard. Greenville is at 
the lower end of Moosehead Lake, and the view of the 
lake from the veranda was superb. The mountains in 
the distance and the foliage on the hills near by made it 
■a picture long to be remembered. Two or three little 
steamers were loading at .the docks with hay, grain and 
provisions for the lumber camps. There were some 
sportsmen among the passengers, but the- most of them 
were lumbermen who will not come out of the woods 
until next spring. There were other hunters who were 
loading their canoes, and with their guides were going 
to paddle up to near-by points and go into camp. 
After dinner we walRed over to the station of the 
Canadian Pacific. The train was to leave at 1 :30, but 
as is not an unusual thing, did not leave until 2 :30. The 
road runs along Moosehead Lake for about fifteen miles. 
I sat with my face pressed to the window peering into the 
woods, and had worked myself up to such a pitch from the 
stories that I had heard of the shooting of moose and 
deer near by, that I would not have been the least sur- 
prised at any moment to have seen a deer run. At last 
we struck the lower end of Long Pond, and finally got a 
glimpse of our camp, which was located on the opposite 
shore. We arrived at the station about 4 o'clock and 
were met by Mr. A. D. Wilson, who is the owner of the 
big Church Hill Camp, and the Doctor's guide. Our 
baggage was immediately transferred to two canoes, but 
as the wind was blowing strong from the north, the 
guides concluded that it would be safer for us to walk 
down the railroad track to the narrows and embark there. 
Long Pond is a series of three lakes about nine miles in 
length, and the narrows, which is about a mile from the 
DOWN IN MAINE. 
station, is at the lower end of the Second Pond. Here wc 
could take the canoes safely, and by keeping under the 
north shore were in comparatively smooth water. Words 
fail me to describe my first impression of this lake and 
its surroundings, After a paddle of about half an hour 
we arrived at camp. There was no familiar face to meet 
us as the canoe pushed up on the shore, but there was 
one who stood there, and as the canoe struck the beach 
he was there with a hearty welcome. Although an entire 
stranger to us, we felt when H. B. Cilley put out his hand 
with that grip of New Hampshire welcome, we Avere 
with a sportsman, and it was as if we had known him for 
years. Big Church Hill Camp is located at the outlet of 
Big Church Hill Stream into Long Pond. The camp is 
a series of log houses for the accommodation of guests 
and guides, with a large, commodious log house for dining 
room and kitchen. Alex and the Doctor having been 
there before, were well known to Mr, Wilson. Alex 
went to his camp and the Doctor and I were assigned to 
the log house next to him. A big wood stove was throw- 
ing out heat. We found everything in good order, com- 
fortable beds with lots of blankets, and everything to make 
one feel, as Alex would say, "Aren't you glad you have 
come?" and jolly old boys are we. At 6 o'clock we were 
called to grub, and how I did enjoy it. George Wilson, 
the cook, is an artist in his profession. He has been a 
cook for lumber camps for more than twenty-three years, 
has been a guide, and knows just exactly how to cook 
venison and flipping flippers, and can make the best veni- 
son stew 1 ever ate. We spent the evening with Alex 
in his cosy little camp, and retired to our quarters about 
9 o'clock. 
In the morning Allen came in and built the fire for 
us, and said breakfast would be ready at 6 o'clock. I 
got up, looked out of the window, and there were about 
three inches of snow on the ground, and when I told 
this to the Doctor, he said, "This, old man, i^ a good 
morning for deer ; I must get up." After breakfast Doc- 
tor and I started for the hardwood ridge. We tramped 
kll the forenoon and back to camp without the sign of a 
deer. I had not engaged a guide, and Allen /volunteered 
to paddle over to Long Pond Station and get a man by 
the name of Joe, who. while he was not a professional 
guide, was a good all-round man, and the Doctor thought 
he was good enough for me. When we returned to 
camp we found a Mr. Davis, of New Haven, who had 
just come in with his guide. Mr. Davis had been at the 
camp for some days, and taken side trips around to other 
localities for over night. He said he had been in the 
woods for a number of years trying to shoot a buck with 
a good head, but up to date had failed. He had had any 
number of shots at deer, but he was looking for a big 
buck or moose. This rather dampened my ardor for 
moose, and I began to make up my mind that I might 
be willing to shoot a buck. When Mr. Davis' canoe came 
up to the shore, out jumped a big dog named Drummer. 
I looked him over, and said to myself, what kind of dog ' 
can that be and what is he doing here? I learned that he 
was owned at the camp, and Mr. Davis had found him 
at the camp down the lake, where he had been over night, 
and the dog had been left there by his owner some days 
before. He was not a hound, and as for his looks, I 
would as soon think he was a cross between a bai^b-wire 
fence and a hay rake. Still, he might be a first-class dog 
for some purposes. I asked his owner if he knew his 
breeding, and he told me that he thought he was one-half 
hound. ^ the other half bird dog and the rest just plain 
"dorg," and I think he must have been used when taken 
out on these excursions to keep the butcher birds from 
carrving off the deer after they had been shot and hung 
up (or something else). Mr. Davis left immediately after 
dmner for Blair's Camp, where he was to remain all 
night and hunt for the big buck in the morning. In the 
afternoon Allen, the Doctor and I got in the canoe and 
went down to the birches, I walked back into the woods 
I think about half a mile, when they left me to watch for 
any stray deer or moose that might come my way, and 
they tramped on a mile or two further. The Doctor got a 
running shot at a doe. They came back, picked me up, 
and we walked back to the lake, and there found Joe 
waiting for me, and we paddled back to camp. 
The next morning (Tuesday) Joe and I went up on the 
hardwood ridges again, but the snow being damp and 
having frozen in the night, made it impossible for us to 
go quietly, and we did not see a thing. Doctor and Allen 
had a distant view of a deer, and we all returned to 
camp at noon. In the meantime Mr. Davis had returned 
from Blair's Camp with a fine doe, and said there were 
many signs of deer there. After dinner Doctor and I 
talked it over, and decided to start for Blair's camp that 
afternoon. Our friend Alex is no shooter, and does not 
carry a gun when he goes Jn the woods, but for an all- 
round good sportsman (without a gun) and an all-day 
tramper, Alex is one of them, and he decided to go 
with us. Mr. Wilson filled two pack baskets with the 
necessary grub. We walked up to the dam, and there 
embarked in two canoes up the Church Hill Stream, and 
I was selfish enough to have Joe keep ahead, and as we 
rounded every_ point or bush I expected to get a shot at a 
moose, but did not see a sign of anything with life except 
a muskrat. Here we unloaded the canoes, pulled them up 
on the shore and started for a four-mile tramp over what 
seemed to me the worst walking that I had ever experi- 
enced — sloughs, bogs, roots, stumps, pieces of corduroy 
road — and when I got to the end of that four-mile tramp 
you may imagine something of how I felt. I was ^ixty 
years old when I started, and I felt as though I was at 
least a hundred and ten when I reached there. Blair's 
camp is a set of unoccupied buildings that had been used 
last year as a lumber camp. They were all in a good 
state of preservation, and the building that had been tised 
as the home of the scaler was the one that we decided to 
occupy. There was a good cook stove, some beds and 
table implements, which, with the grub that we had toted 
in, made it very comfortable, and, as Mr. Davis had told 
us, we were in as good a deer country as could be 
found. He had left part of a deer at the camp, so there 
was no lack of _ provision, and with Joe and Allen as 
cooks, we were just all right. 
After a comfortable night's rest we started out bright 
and early, I expecting to shoot a moose. Did not think 
for a minute of bothering with any small game like a 
deer, but came back to camp at noon, having hunted in 
about the same direction that the Doctor had, and did not 
see anything larger than a red squirrel. Doctor had se^n 
two or three deer, but did not have a shot On his way 
into camp that noon Allen tried to show him two, but 
the Doctor failed to see them. We left Alex at the 
camp, and when we returned at noon he had the kettle 
boiling, potatoes ready, and in a very short time we had 
a smoking hot dinner. I had made up my mind that 
there was no need of tramping, as the deer could hear us 
half a mile away. Joe and I went to the top of a hill and 
sat down on a big birch log to Avait for the moose or 
deer to come around our way. We were not seated there 
more than five minutes when Joe thought he could get a 
better view of the surrounding woods by moving about 
three rods to my right. He had scarcely gone two rods 
from me when he fired his rifle, and I turned around to 
see what he was shooting at. He was on the opposite 
side of a big blown-down spruce, and when I found I 
could not see him I directed my attention to where I 
had been looking before he fired the shot, when within 
four rods of me I saw a flag, and that was all. I walked 
around to Joe and said: "What did you shoot at?" He 
said: "A deer; did you see the one in front of you?" I 
said : "No, I only saw a flag." He then said that there 
were two deer within five rods of us ; the one that he shot 
at was standing up, and the one that I saw the flag of 
was lying down right in front of my eyes. But, alas for 
me, I only saw the flag. Now I am an admirer of the flag, 
but am free to confess that I like to see more of it than I 
did of this one, even if it is white. We hunted the rest 
of the afternoon without another sight of deer — not even 
a flag. When we returned to camp the Doctor had shot 
a deer, but had been unable to find him, as he had not 
struck him in a vital spot 
The evening' was spent pleasantly, and we were out 
bright and early in the morning. Joe and I went up to' 
the old birch log, the Doctor and Allen toward the hard- 
wood ridge. We had not left camp more than ten minutes 
when we heard two shots from the Doctor's rifle. Joe 
and I hunted until noon without any luck, except that 
Joe reported having seen "two flags." On our way back 
to camp we found the Doctor's two deer hanging up by 
the side of the tote road, and Joe carried one into camp. 
The Doctor and Allen came in and reported having seen 
two other deer, which they did not get a shot at 
This being Thursday noon, and as we would be obliged 
to start for home on Saturday, we concluded to leave this 
camp after dinner to get back to the Big Church Hill 
Camp. Now, here was a query. Two deer, two pack 
baskets and rifles to get out over what seemed to me an 
impassable road for men with such a load. How could 
we do it? I volunteered to take a pack basket full of 
duffle and start Joe and Allen with the lar.crer deer on a 
pole, the Doctor and Alex with the smaller deer. I 
started about fifteen minutes ahead. The pack basket 
weighed perhaps about thirty or forty pounds when I 
started. The first eighth of a mile I struck about a forty 
clip, the second eighth about a ten-minute gait, and the 
rest of the way was a go-as-you-please race. They never 
