^62 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
[Oct. 4, 1902. 
The Changing Year. 
The following notes from the diary of Rowland E. Uobinson 
have peculiar interest because they illustrate so well the keen 
interest Mr. Robinson, though deprived of sight, took in the o\il- 
door world through the changes of the seasons. 
March 15 (1898). — Colors of aurora borealis reported 
green, purple and light red. A slight thunder shower and 
hail at night. 
March 18. — ^^The girls saw robins and song sparrows 
at the mountain. They found one hepatica, the earliest 
in our records. Rowland saw bitterns and frogs in the 
marshes. 
March 20.— Split Rock Lighthouse lighted up; the 
earliest since 1804. Started out of the silence, a thin, 
small voice. Nathan Morrison going to Quaker meeting 
and fox hunting at same time. 
"Farewell, farewell, two, t'ree hairy hoi' daughter! 
Dust wobble hoi' Perry, so da'ks he can' see; 
No pail ever slip under hwomans, in water, 
An' pour it an' spill it all over on me. 
All round it was glistle some lovelies' hamber. 
As ever was sorry for see de bird swep', 
Wid many a shelf in de hole- of de chamber. 
Where Perry hev motion in moonlight fer slep"." 
March 29. — Suckers are caught on the Falls; 200, they 
.say. It is not pleasant to think of ourselves as becom- 
ing at last nothing but a heap of bones and dust, so we 
comfort ourselves with the idea of immortality. How 
much more wonderful were the intelligent men, our re- 
mote ancestors, the cave dwellers, than the beaver or 
certain birds, or even the cat? 
March 30. — Hear meadow lark. 
March 31. — Snowing. R, Beers says the first one-horse 
pleasure wagon that appeared in town had a square 
paneled box with railing, without springs under it, nor 
the seat, and had no dashboard. Altogether, a queer 
looking thing, and no easier to ride in than a lumber 
wagon. 
Last December Rowland and some boys skating on 
Little Otter, near the main road bridge, found a tame 
goose alive, frozen to the ice by cakes which her wings 
had frozen fast' to. Got her loose, a good deal damaged. 
How the rabbit's ears and hind legs came to be so long. 
The porcupine pulling at the first to get the rabbit from 
the wild cat, who had caught her by the hind legs. Fable 
of a mink that was not satisfied with what he found near 
home, going to a great lake, was swallowed by a big 
pike. R. Beers said to-day, "As coarse as all tow." A 
half-breed Chippewa, with R. R. Minturn in northern 
Michigan, found water by digging at the root of what 
he called a water pine. It had branches growing low 
on the trunk though standing in thick woods. Shards 
or junk bottles are plowed up on the old camp ground, 
10 or 15 acres in extent, east of Watch Point. Rodsy 
D., surveyor, tells of old military road from Mt. Inde- 
pendence to Hubbardton. Its general course was south 
15 degrees east, winding between the lake and East 
Creek, crossing East Creek a mile from B. and passed 
Sunset Lake and across a cranberry marsh, where it is 
still in use as a wood road, then near Beebe Lake, 
where it crossed streams, the old abutments can still 
be seen and parts of the road can be traveled, then ran 
to east part of Hubbardton and battleground. One of 
Warner's men on the retreat was burdened with bullets, 
a portion of which he buried and afterward recovered. 
April 2. — French troops of the line wore white uni- 
forms faced with blue, red, yellow or violet, a three- 
cornered hat and gaiters, generally black, from feet to 
knee. This in Montcalm's army. The troops of British 
colonies, common, their coat and breeches of red or blue, 
carried musket, powder horn, bullet pouch, blanket and 
knapsack and wooden canteen. Si Parkman says: At 
Ransom Burr's, he says, two Barnes' brothers kept a 
store at Young's corners, east of the forge, sawmill and 
carding machine on the Monkton road (old Boston Iron 
Co.'s works). Thej"- drew a prize in a lottery and one 
brother felt so rich that he laid a three-dollar bill on a 
piece of bread and butter and eat it. . A man named- 
Pond, a speculator, was sick and gave himself up to die. 
Dr. Maxfield told him he'd done all he could for him, but 
to give him a certain pill and unless that helped him he 
was a dead man. He took the pill, and the next day 
was about his business. Two runs of one kind and a run 
and a half of the other kind of yarn a day's work, R. B. 
says. Two runs of warp he thinks and less of filling; 
wages of spinners were 75 cents a week. "40 threads in 
a knot, 10 knots in a skein, 2 skeins in a run," so M. S. 
P. says. . ! 
April 3. — Morning blossomed in the sky. Canoe go- 
ing over a fall strikes and holds on a rock at the brink; 
a mid-channel island with a cave in it, which gives passage 
to the shore. 
Man who prepared for a hunting trip to the west by 
stealing an ax and a turkey. 
Man who slipped and spilled pails of syrup on snow 
where it cooled so that he rolled up the sheets, and so 
carried it home. 
April 23. — As many as a dozen cock pheasants were 
crowing, most of them in neighborhood of the East 
Slang, This morning heard a flicker cackle. Like Ben- 
venuto Cellini, some of our modern saints see their 
aureoles more clearly than do others. A neighbor's boy 
came across lots to borrow some thread of my grand- 
mother "to finish mammy's long gown." This was in 
the days when the "short gown" was universally worn 
by working women, -and the advent of a long gown was 
important. After some inquiry grandmother started the 
boy home with a skein of cotton thread of a suitable 
color. He soon came stumbling back, his bare feet pick- 
ing their way over the ledge, and a rod from the open 
south door called out in breathless haste, "Fur enough 
f'm mammy's long gown. It's punkin seeds!" 
May 14.— This evening heard many frogs or toads on 
Lewis Creek intervale, their cry less like a whistle than 
the common "peepers" gr hyla'Ss It i§ like very small. 
resonant bells, quite continuous, and a very pleasing 
chorus. To-day I have lived sixty-five years and never 
before noticed this peculiar cry. Not flattering to my 
observation of nature. Coming home we heard the tele- 
graph wires humming. 
May 17. — Our catbird announces his arrival this morn- 
ing, 
"Our Yankee tars and men-of-war 
Carry our glorious flag afar." 
May 20. — Shrike's nest in east orchard, five eggs. 
May 26. — A wood duck in an elm sapling eating the 
leaves, drawing them to his mouth with his pinion, came 
down head first. 
May 27. — Cuckoo comes. 
May 29. — Wood pewee comes. 
An old pike tells his story. 
June I. — ^Trolling with Sedgwick Preston, who came 
for me and led me through pleasant pastures and 
meadows aaid beside the still waters where I heard many 
old familiar voices of always unseen water fowl, guessed 
to be coots and rail, also a bittern driving his submerged 
stake just as he did more than fifty years ago when I 
first heard him when I went fishing with Merigo. From 
the shores the bleating of sheep and lambs, the lowing 
of cows, shouting of plowmen, clang of iron roller on 
the rail and chink of a haiumer breaking stone on 
Slang bridge crossing. Lily and wild oats above water. 
The air full of the strong odor of the marsh. All our 
fishing brought us but one medium-sized pike-perch. 
Innumerable hauls of weeds. Phantom minnow took 
the one fish. Marsh full of brown moths. 
I hear two crows signalling to each other, four caws 
repeated several times, then three, then the four again. 
Some one says crows can only count four, not ever 
objects above that number. 
June 9, — 9 P. M. Bullfrogs' thin, reedy bass comes 
from creek; the electric bells of toads, the sharp clatter 
of one tree toad, the soughing of the north wind and 
the sweet note of a wood pewee singing in the old gar- 
den bidding the world good-night — "adieu, adieu." 
Manly Hardy writes: "Beaver oil is not the castor, 
but a fluid of strong scent which attracts all fur bearers. 
Beaver skin is split on belly. Skin is stretched on hoop 
of spruce, two sticks spliced, the skin sewed to it at 
the edges. Bear skin on frame like quilt. Otter has 
strong but not unpleasant scent. Fisher scent like 
weasel. Skin of otter legs drawn off whole, not split. 
June 10. — This year we realize the force of the old 
likening of evil things to "a cuss of worms." 
June 13. — Worms still with us. A Canuck shouted so 
loud in a long-range fight that he scared his opponent 
and was himself frightened by the echo of his own voice. 
A panther fight described by an eye witness: Two old 
he ones meet in the woods, one kills the other and is 
shot by narrator. 
June 26. — A pair of vireos made a nest in one of our 
lilac trees and hatched a brood. Yesterday were much 
troubled, one bird fussing about the nest, then appear- 
ing to trample in it. To-day they have deserted it, and 
two unfledged birds were found lying dead under the 
tree. We cannot reach the nest without a ladder and 
wonder the cause of it all. I mistrust an intruding cow- 
bird, but there were screech owls near the place the 
night before. ' , 
June 27. — Upon examination a cowbird's egg was 
found in the nest. Our people of the lower classes are 
very particular to speak of each other as "mister" and 
"missis," and of elderly people of that sort as "old gen- 
tlemen" and "old ladies," and to introduce each other 
as Mr. and Mrs. So-and-So. Joseph Borden was cap- 
tured by British during Revolution, was taken across a 
river in a boat. Fired on by Americans. Borden lay 
in the bottom of the boat. The British set him on a 
thwart and sat on either side. Next volley killed both 
and left Borden unharmed. 
June 30. — ^Went to Shoreham. Both sides of the rail- 
road red with clover as I never before felt it. Thunder- 
storm at night. A near flash, followed by a sharp but 
light report, like the snap of a tree in winter. The noise 
was all that I knew of the storm. 
July 3. — ^Three red-headed woodpeckers came this 
morning, quite noisy, with their "Creek, creek," and a 
short chatter of their two-toned notes, "Kruk, crrruk." 
Dr. Seymour tells about a man who told abominable lies 
of his belongings and adventures. A common colored 
print was an oil portrait of some potentate who gave it 
to him. He presented it to Dr. Seymour, rolling it on 
a bit of an Alpenstock that he carried in climbing the 
Alps with Prof. Tyndall. A hand grenade, found at Ft. 
Ticbnderoga and once owned by Ebenezer Bowman, is 
two and one-half inches in diameter, the fuse hole half 
an inch diameter, the shell about an eighth-inch through. 
Old woman finds toggery of her youth; tries it on; trots 
around in it till she tumbles down stairs against the 
door, where she is found in a heap by her old husband. 
He tumbles head first into meat barrel he is packing 
pork in. Old wife helps him out only on condition that 
he won't tell of her late plight. Woodpeckers drum 
call like a rapid dribble of water. A dazed spirit just 
parted from its clay, still wondering at the mystery of 
separation. 
July 16. — ^Yesterday a warm north wind all day. We 
rarely have had so fair a hay season nor so much good 
hay, though not of the marketable kind. Day before 
yesterday, the 14th, the Abram Rogers home burned, a 
landmark of old Quaker times and the days of simple 
lives. The great chimney and fireplace fell last and 
buried the hospitable hearthstone in a smoldering heap. 
All gone Hke Abram, Bethiah, his wife, and their unmar- 
ried children, Joseph, Stephen and Marah, the last of 
their race. The clear pine woodwork of the stairway and 
chambers was a wonder to modern eyes, some boards 
almost three feet widS) 
July 17 — 
O sleep, my honey, go to sleep ! 
Da'n' you see how de shadders creep? 
O hear de hummin' ob de bees — 
M-m-m-m-m ; 
De win' a-sighin' in de trees, 
Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh. 
0 hain't yo' eyelids w^eighin' down, 
Yo' sleepy head a-swimmin' 'roun', 
To hear de slow hum ob de bees — ' 
M-m-m-m-m ; 
De win' a-sighin' in de trees, 
Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh. 
1 wish yo' mammy had yo' chance. 
She wouldn't watch de sunshine dance, 
But hark de hummin' bees. 
Nov,' you' eyelids grow lak' lead. 
Now a dream shapes in yo' head, 
An' low an' slow go hummin' bees — 
M-m-m-m-m; 
De breeze sing low in leaves an' trees, 
Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh. 
July 18. — R. Beers says if cloudy at time moon changes 
it is a sign of rain. A woman in the poorhouse at Willis- 
ton who was jilted by her lover vowed that no one 
should ever see her face again. For twenty years she has 
kept it covered with a cloth. Thunderstorms growled and 
threatened afar off all the afternoon, and at 4 it began 
raining gently. Now, at 5:30, the sounds are, the purr 
of rain on the leaves, the dripping of the eaves, the 
tinkling gurgle of a conduit, a robin's rain song, a song 
sparrow's musical warble, the cluck of a small flock of 
blackbirds, the sharp trill of a tree toad, and now and then 
a patter of rain drops spilled from topmost boughs. I 
hear the chuckle of a grass plover, early for migration. 
. July 26. — We heard an August piper. 
Aug. 2. — A good many indoors. Gur little screech owl 
has a note I have not heard before, like the. wail of a 
small child. He is a fellow of infinite variety. 
Tales of the Frontier* 
iV. — The Rescue. 
In the strenuous life of the- frontiei-, character was 
quickly developed. Characteristics which marked the in- 
dividual for good or evil came quickly into notice. And 
while it is very probable that "Brave men were living 
before Agamemnon," and while fortitude and manly 
courage are just as surely the heritage of the American 
to-day as at any other time in our history — witness Hob- 
son calling for half a score of men to peril their lives in 
an almost hopeless venture for their country's honor, over- 
v.helmed by the instant offer of a multitude of volun- 
teers, while all the rest of the men of the fleet stood 
.ready if needed — yet the fact remains that self-reliance 
and the sense of responsibility came earlier in life to the 
boy or girl of the frontier. 
In the peaceful life of to-day, when everything moves 
smoothly and silently in well-oiled grooves, it is difficult 
riideed for the average citizen to realize what the hard 
conditions of frontier life made of the men of that day 
and time. 
"W'e all forget 
The still endurance of the rude 
Unpolished sons of solitude." 
'"What strong, uncommon men were these, 
These settlers hewing to the seas! 
Great horny-handed men and tan; 
jMen blown from many a barren laud 
Beyond the sea; men red of hand, 
And men in love, and men in debt, 
Like David's men in battle set; 
.'\nd men whose very hearts had died, 
Who only sought these woods to hide 
Their wretchedness, held in the van, 
Yet every man among them stood 
Alone, along that sounding wood, 
And every man somehow a manl" 
Little Merton Eastlick — a mere child — creeping out in 
the darkness of night from the tall grass of the prairie 
siough, where nearly all his father's family during the 
day had found a bloody death at the hands of savage 
foes; finding his baby brother wandering around in the 
darkness and taking him upon his back and carrying him 
for fifty miles — from Lake Shetek to Dutch Charlie's 
(it is ahuost beyond belief, but absolutely true), is "A 
hero descended from heroes !" 
And I wotdd go further to-day to shake hands with 
liim — if he be still living— than to witness the crowning of 
ali the kings England ever produced. The taking posses- 
.'^ion of any new portion of the earth's surface — the abode 
ct only wild beasts and savage men — has always called 
for men of marked individuality and self-reliance. 
And while on the Minnesota frontier the danger from 
savage Indians passed away in a few brief years, there 
was one enemy — the winter blizzard — which made the 
southwestern part of Minnesota a veritable battle ground 
lor a part of each and every one of the earlier years. 
Not until the prairie portion of the State was won for 
civilization inch by inch did the buildings, fences and 
other improvements of the settlers transform this part of 
the country into a region at all safe for any traveler 
to attempt to pass in the winter season. 
Once caught in the teeth of the winter gale, beyond the 
shelter of the timber, the pioneer could only drift with 
it. Neither man nor beast could face it. 
During the five winters in which the writer trapped 
furred animals in that region, not one winter passed but 
mtn froze to death, or lost limbs from frost bites among 
the sparse population of that early time. 
As the peril cotild not be eluded, men learned to make 
light of it; and it was often a source of amusement to 
the pioneers when a group of them related in turn their 
odd and absurd adventtires with the common foe. 
For the oddest things were continually happening. 
In a country where men quickly learned to untie the 
rope from the old-fashioned bedstead, and to tie one end 
around the door knob and the other around their bodies 
when they venttired out to feed their stock, anything was 
possible. 
One settler who made his home on the edge of the 
prairie having just time to inclose his house and move 
into it before all gf the upper floor was laid, before the 
