326 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[Oct. 23, 1902. 
traveled a long way before the crust cut through its skin. 
Moose sign^ very abundant, was now reported by all 
hands in every direction for three miles from our camp. 
We dared not stop to hunt. 
The Sileht Watches of the Night. 
Charlie and Adam came in covered with snow, tired and 
wet, before dark that night, but luckily they did not have 
to cut wood, and could make themselves comfortable at 
once. I stood the first watch that night, and it was an 
experience, which will long remain with me in memory. It 
was still very cold, more than twenty below xero, but by 
8 or 9 o'clock that night light masses of clouds began to 
scud across the sky, seemingly no higher than the tops 
of the great pine trees which stood ranged about. Then 
came little gusts of wind, which shook tlie snow down in 
white showers all over the blanketed forms which lay 
before the fire. Yet the moon was bright enough all the 
time, and showed in perfect distinctness the white-capped 
sentinel pines. The frost was so keen that continually 
there could be heard the cracking of the trees, sounds 
sharp and loud as rifle shots, now here and now yon, 
sometimes near and sometimes far away in the distance 
of the forest. Other than these sounds nothing broke the 
silence. And the white wilderness lay about dazzling 
bright, cold, very cold in its appearance. It was glorious, 
simply glorious. The wilderness — the memory of the 
wilderness, this is the best part of the moose hunt, and 
far more worth than many moose. 
To one seated alone at the fireside on a night like this 
time flies by on leaden wings. I looked at my watch 
dozens of times, and sometimes was shocked to find that 
the minute hand had not gone more than fifteen minutes 
of distance around the dial, whereas I was sure it had 
reached the next hour mark. My duties consisted of 
keeping the foot logs against the back logs, of keepmg 
plenty of pine faggots in with the birch, of poking any 
broken faggot down under the fire, and of spreading out 
the bed of coals so that the heat would be reflected back 
into the camp. So long as I kept the other fellows snor- 
ing, I felt that I was doing pretty well. Once in a whde 
they would get so warm that I could see them pull up 
their feet, which is also a very good sign. Sometimes 
the feet of Adam and his almost equally long son Jack 
-would stick down so close to the fire that their stockings 
began to smoke. Then I would lean a piece of birch bark 
against their feet to keep them from burning. Another 
duty of the watcher in such a bivouac is to keep sparks 
off the blankets. We had $40 or $50 worth of blankets 
and could not afford the loss of them. 
At midnight the clouds were becoming denser and still 
more rapid in their scurrying flight. The wind came up 
in strange, tempestuous gusts, without any preliminary 
and as suddenly fell again. It was evident when I turned 
in that there was go.ng to be a storm, and at this pros- 
pect no one felt any too well pleased. It is no joke to be 
caught at such a place in a heavy fall of snow. 
The Match In the Storm. 
At 4 o'clock in the morning all of us who were sleeping 
were awakened peremptorily by Adam, who called, "Roll 
out, boys, the storm is on! We've got to get up. Crawl 
out now, before the blankets get wet!" 
So we crawled out in a blinding fall of snow, and packed 
our precious blankets, the first thing we did. We fastened 
the packs on the toboggans soon thereafter, made our 
breakfast by firelight, ate up the last fragment of meat 
which we had, and at the first gray dawn were on the trail 
again to the southward, with nothing but biscuits and tea 
and a general trustfulness in our good luck to assist us. 
This was the morning of Dec. 23, getting on toward 
Christmas, and there was no one there who could give a 
decent guess where he would be on Christmas day. We 
followed a general course of about south-southwest, for a 
time, leaving this little brook which Ellis had told us 
ran back into the Little South Branch, and not into the 
Big South Branch, as for a time we had supposed pos- 
sible. We blazed trees to mark our way back in case we 
were caught in a heavy storm, which should obliterate the 
snowshoe trail, and I marked a tree here and there with 
our names, the date, etc., figuring that this sort of thing 
might come mighty useful to some other fool fellows who 
might be trying to do things they didn't ought to at some 
date later to be determined. 
The brushing out on the trail which had been done the 
day before helped matters wonderfully. By 10 oclock we 
were at the foot of the big and much-dreaded hill of which 
Ellis had told us, and which Adam and Charlie had dis- 
covered for themselves, I shall not undertake to say how 
those three men pulled the heavily loaded toboggans up 
these awful slopes. I admit that I could not have done 
this son of thing, and I found my rifle and pack all I 
wanted to negotiate. I do not think three better men 
ever went on snowshoes than the tliree who broke this 
trail across this divide. 
The Top of the Big Divide. 
In some fashion we finished the long and frightful 
ascent of this mountain side, making the top some time 
after 11 o'clock. At this time Joe Elhs had not appeared, 
although we were expecting him to follow on along our 
trail. We still missed the mythical Braithwaite tree of 
which Ellis had told us. Had we found this tree, we 
should in fact have been out of our troubles, for it directed 
us to head straight south. When we got to the top of 
the hill we were afraid to strike straight south, for the 
country in that direction dropped oft" so sharply that we 
knew we were throwing away every advantage of eleva- 
tion we had gained, and we neither wanted to reascend this 
hill nor climb another like it beyond, if it could be avoided. 
Therefore it became necessary to prospect once more, 
Adam and Charlie went down the further side of the big 
hill, taking a southwest course by compass, and trying 
to figure out some way of getting to the south and still 
keep ng up on the height of lan-d and out of the dreaded 
Serpentine breaks. At i o'clock Ellis came poking along 
the trail, and Adam and Charlie came back, looking some- 
what disgusted until they saw Ellis. Then we all "boiled 
the kettle" and reached that calm and resolution which 
pertain only to i)..qaatt of well-boiled, strong black tea. 
Cotiocil of War. 
Toe Ellis told us that we had passed the original Braith- 
waite tree and had come too far down across the hill. 
He said that he had a shack over in the Serpentine 
country, about two or three miles from where we were. 
It was due southwest to that camp, and this would bring 
us much below the place where we figured out Henry 
Braithwaite's northernmost camping shack ought to be. 
Joe said that he could get us through by a trail of his 
own from this Serpentine camp, which, as we figured, 
would require nearly a southeast course from the Serpen - 
tine camp, to the lake where Henry's camp was supposed 
to be. As a matter of fact, this trail from Ellis' camp to 
Henry's must be northeast, and not southeast. '.So much 
for scientific data. We resolved not to swing so far west, 
but to chance it straight across. 
Ellis consented to go with us in our dash tliat afternoon 
for this unlocated lake (which, by the way, is not shown 
on any map of New Brunswick). He himself was afraid 
to strike straight south t'rom tbe top of the divide. Here 
again we found we had made a mistake. After we had 
gotten across, we found that a much better trail could 
be made by keeping on the height of land and running 
south from a little barren which Adam and Charlie found 
on the top of the big hill. As it was, we got into pretty 
rough country, although nothing is impossible for the New 
Brunswick toboggan when pulled by men such as these. 
All the time we were in the middle of moose sign. We 
dropped down swiftly on the southeast face of our big hill, 
wallowing a-plenty through snow-burdened fir thickets, 
crossing occasional wind falls, but all the time working 
down and working south. We had not yet crossed the 
trapping line which Ellis said ran over to the lake, but at 
last, perhaps a mile and a half from our lunching point, we 
did strike blazes again, and hence we were entirely sure 
that at last we were safe and that we would get through 
to some place of comfort before any bad storm could 
stop us. 
At length we Came to a little brook, which was the 
last water leading down to the Serpentine, we having now 
entirely left the Little South Branch waters far back of 
us. Hence we felt that the next water we might find 
must be Miramichi water, and that we must have accom- 
plished the purpose of our trip. 
We now began to ascend a long, easy, swelling divide, 
at whose summit I marked a tree, naming the nattire of 
the divide, as I had the two previous divides which Ave 
had crossed. Some time Henry Braithwaite will be 
prowling around in there, and will see this tree, and find 
recorded fhe distance which we estimated it to be from 
his own cfamp. 
Success ! 
At 3 :20 of Dec. 23 we saw a little dark spring hole, black 
under the snow which framed it about. It was not a 
very attractive-looking place, but every fellow there gave 
a shout as he saw it. We had headed the last brook, 
crossed the last divide, reached the southeast waters, and 
at last broken into the iMiramichi country. 
We had in effect done precisely what all of our friends 
told us we could not do, what we really could not have 
done had we met any worse weather than we had, and 
what perhaps few parties might do so fortunately if they 
went across as ignorant as we were of where they were 
going to come out. Our party could do it again now 
without very much trouble, and indeed could better the 
trail south from the summit of the big divide to the lake 
where Braithwaite's most northerly camp is located. 
The Trail In the Snow. 
We were not, however, as yet quite out of our trouble. 
Joe Elis was now at the limit of his knowledge, and could 
not tell how far it would be until we struck lumber camps 
south of the point where we now were. On our way 
down the hill we had struck one big open piece of forest, 
from which a wide view was possible to the southward, 
It was a wild and stirring scene which lay before us — 
fifteen or twenty miles of panorama of the wildest of the 
New Brunswick wilderness, a region covered with a thick 
black forest and broken up into a thousand steep and 
sweeping hills. The roughest of this country lay off to 
the right as we looked southward, being in fact the rough 
basin of the Serpentine -which we had thus successfully 
avoided. East of this somewhere, as we were satisfied, 
lay Henry Braithwaite's little, thin, indistinguishable line 
of blazes, hidden somewhere in the forest, we could not 
tell. If we should head it, or miss it, or run through 
it, then stern and serious indeed would be our plight. 
We pushed on late into the afternoon, the snow by this 
time having begun to fall heavily and steadily. At last, 
just before 4 o'clock, as the darkness was coming on 
very fast, we broke out into the open, and found our- 
selves at the edge of a little crescent-shaped lake, three- 
quarters of a mile or so in extent. The snow made it 
difficult to see much more than to the further edge, as 
we looked across the lower horn of the lake. We pushed 
out into the open, exultant in spite of our uncertainty. 
There, written on the surface of the snow, was a record 
which caused the blood of every hungry mother's son of 
us to jump a little — a snowshoe trail, and made that day! 
"It's Henry, by the great Harry!" said Adam. "He's 
been here to-day, just about thinking that we were going- 
to come through !" 
"Yes, and he's gone back," said Charlie. "The trail is 
fresher coming this way than going up. He came by here 
about noon on his way back." 
"And it's not very far to the other end of the lake," said 
Joe Ellis. 
"We had better go up there and have a look," said 
Jack. 
"Yes, because we're all of us just a little hungry," 
said L E.. Hough. 
Hartford Building, Chicago, III. 
Pennsylvania* 
Canadensis, Pa., Oct. \9>.-~Editor Forest and Stream: 
Three days of tramping through this section of the coun- 
try has convinced me that the ruffed grouse shooting is 
going to be unusually good. There seem to be a great 
many birds, but owing to the late warm weather the 
foliage is still heavy, and the birds are in coveys. The 
swales are full of water, a condition that makes tramping 
far from pleasant. However, ten days of the right sort of 
weather will so alter these conditions that the sportsman 
will soon find good tramping and good shooting. 
T. E. B, 
Wasatch Waves* 
The sc-ason now drawing to a close has averaged up 
well so far as the .sportsman is concerned. The trout 
and bass season opened June 15, with but few trout 
rising and no bass. But as the summer advanced con- 
ditions improved, and, -as a whole, trout fishing in Utah 
has been better than for man}'^ previous years. Espe- 
cially is this true on the Strawberry Reservation, where 
now the_imported rainbow trout are farger and more 
numerous than the natives. At the present time it is 
too late and cold for good lly-fishing, but large catches 
are made by trolling, f wish I could say as much for 
the bass. The rea.son why they cannot be caught will 
be apparent later on. 
On July T doves had iio- look out for themselves, and 
they seemed to be in greater numbers than ever before. 
There was at least a month's good dove shooting be- 
fore the birds became wild and separated into little 
bands or flew singly. Of course, all through the sum- 
m.er there was the average cottontaiL and squirrel 
shooting for those who enjoy such shooting at that 
season. 
Unfortunately for the farmer and well for the chick- 
ens there were no- heavy spring storms this year ; neither 
were there late fires. Consequently, the sport with all 
gallinaceous birds from Aug. 15 until the present time 
has been "simply immense." Where the chickens have 
been shot from one stubble the hunter has only to go 
to the next field to locate another brood. For a week 
or two, late in August and early in September, a curious 
condition of affairs prevailed. The upland benches were 
'so parched and dry that the grouse left their regular 
feeding grounds and came dowiT to live with the "drum- 
mers" (partridges) on the timbered bottoms. But the 
first fall rains sent them back to their accustomed > 
haunts. The dusky grouse are now up in the pines, and 
hard climbs always result in large bags, even for the 
poorest shots. 
Only the duck crop is a complete failure. Where 
once there was abundance of feed and where four years 
ago I rowed a boat easily, is now only sand and mud. 
The carp have got away with the feed, and dry sea- 
sons and the fact that Utah Lake is being pumped out 
for the benefit of Salt Lake County farmers, gives no 
inducement to the ducks and geese to stop in their mi- 
gratory flight. Indeed, there is better duck shooting 
to-day on Strawberry and Bear River and their tribu- 
taries, and on small irrigating reservoirs 'than on the 
larger lakes. There will be practically no duck shoot- 
ing this year unless on the famous Bear River grounds 
near Corinne, and there, because the ducks have no 
other place to go, the sport should be even better than 
usual. To some extent the loss of duck shooting is com- 
pensated for by the numbers of jacksnipe, willet, curlews 
and avocets, almost unknown a few years ago, that 
now frequent the muddy flats. 
The western legislator is not yet educated oh the sub- 
ject of game preservation. Our mills still dump their 
sawdust in the streams, and the man who would have 
tlie temerity to introduce a bill requiring the screening 
of irrigating ditches need hope for no mercy at the 
hands of his constituents. Commissioner Sharp is 
greatly hampered by these conditions, but" I notice that 
several ardent sportsmen have been nominated for the 
next legislature, so there is a slight chance of a change 
for the better. 
It is a good year for big game. Deer are abundant 
within a few miles of the larger towns, and bear and 
mountain lions are by no means unknown. The caiions 
are now filled with hunters who await the opening day 
for deer (to-morrow, Oct. 15). The best big game 
grounds in Utah to-day are in the Brown's Park region, 
along the lower Green River, and in the Henry Moun- 
tains. So far as my experience goes, none of these fields 
can compare with those of Colorado and Wyoming. 
Shoshone. 
Mr. Kinney on Highland Moors* 
Mr. A. B. F. Kinney, of Worcester, Mass., has re- 
cently returned from a European tour, in the course of 
which he spent some days on the grouse moors of 
Scotland. The Worcester Telegram tells of it: 
From a Telegram reporter Mr. Kinney had a letter 
of introduction to Thomas G. Henderson, secretary of 
the great Northern meetings, an athletic and social or- 
ganization of an exclusive kind, which has been in exist- 
ence since 1788, which has had yearly athletic meetings 
since that time without a break, with a great ball on 
each night of the athletic meetings, which always come 
in September. These meetings the distinguished per- 
sons w-ho are in the highlands at their shooting lodges 
attend, and there are more of the nobility of England 
and Scotland and of the millionaires of America at these 
balls than at any other athletic or social event in Scot- 
land. 
When Mr. Kinney called on Air. Henderson it was in 
the week of the Northern meetings and he was a busy 
man, but he took time to interest himself in Mr. Kin- 
ney's trip and inquired after a Telegram reporter, vvho 
was Mr. Henderson's private secretary prior to coming 
to this country. One of the special things he told Mr. 
Kinney was that while he was fishing in the River Ness, 
which divides the town, he caught fresh water salmon 
that weighed 34 pounds, and it was about a record 
catch for the rod. 
Mr. Kinney was interested in his visit to Mr. Hender- 
son, for the reason that both are great sportsmen,. and 
are in the same business, that of selling guns and fish- 
ing tackle, powder and other equipments and appara- 
tus for men who want to have a good day's sport. Mr. 
Kinney drove all over the town famous as theiresidence 
of King Macbeth, and saw the great cemetery, a large 
hill, the top of which looks like the keel of a ship, 
called Tomnahurich, which in the good old days used 
to be known as "the hill of the fairies," where fifty 
years ago corn was growing in abundance. 
Returning to Edinburgh, Mr. Kinney said he was 
favored with all the shooting he could spend time to 
take, through the good offices of Speedie Bros., of Edin, 
burgh, who make a business of renting moors, forests 
