[Nov. 8, 1902. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
373 
some reasonable conclusion as to- what manner of animal 
it could be, and why it lay still when we ran on it. The 
fire finally burned low, and as I did not wish to be de- 
prived of its welcome light I crawled out to replenish it. 
Here I was joined by Walter, who assured me that he 
had not slept at all, but like myself had been trying to 
solve the mystery of our fright. "Do you suppose it 
could have been a bear?" said he. This was just what I 
had supposed it to be a dozen times during my worry 
over the problem, but now encouraged by the firelight 
and company, I scouted the idea. 
Every possible, and many impossible, theories "vPe dis- 
cussed, without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion, 
and then my companion advanced one that nearly made 
me fall in the fire. 
"Perhaps it was a dead man," said he, with a start and 
a gasp. 
I went cold all over. "But you said it was covered with 
coarse hair," I ventured. 
"I thought it was, but when I fell only one hand 
touched him, and that may have been his hair." 
"Him," "his," I thought. Good gracious, he feels sure 
of it. 
Crowding closer up to the fire, and almost holding- my 
breath, I fell to trembling violently and wondering what 
was behind me. The longing that came over me for 
home was not akin to pain, it was the real thing. 
We sat silent for a few moments, and then Walter, 
whose back was towatd the "thing," got up and came 
around to my side. "Let's wake the other boys," said he. 
This proposition was debated at length, but finally 
abandoned, as we could see no advantage to be gained by 
adding the two younger boys to our counsel. 
Another interval of silence ensued, broken by the hoot 
of an owl in a nearby tree, that nearly caused us to 
faint, and then Walter said: "Look here, I can't stand 
this. There is no use of our trying to sleep, and we 
will be half-dead if we sit here until morning. Let's go 
see what it is right now." 
A proposal to go jimip in the river would have been 
more to my liking. I offered every objection I could 
think of, except the real one — ^that I was afraid— even 
going so far as to urge that we ought not to leave the 
other boys alone, but nothing I could say had any in- 
fluence with my companion, in the way of changing his 
determination. 
When it finally came to the point of admitting that I 
did not dare go, or else going, I gave in. The fear of 
being thought afraid was simply greater than the fear of 
danger. 
Walter took the revolver and our lantern, while I car- 
ried the big gun. I debated the question in my mind, as 
to which gun to carry, realizing that in case a retreat was 
in order, the heavy weapon would interfere very much 
with my movements, but as it would be much more effec- 
tive than the lighter weapon, I finally conckided to take 
it. and in case of a condition arising warranting flight, 
abandon it altogether. The trail made by the limb was 
plain, and down this we went Avith as bold a front as 
we could put on. I was scared almost to death, and had 
every reason to believe that my companion was in the 
same condition. 
We were really being very brave, if we had but known 
it, but we did not. What we did know was that it was 
very eerie, dark, and gruesome, and we heartily wished 
ourselves well out of it. Every stick that broke underfoot 
caused a tremor through the entire company, and when a 
bat, attracted by our light, swished across our faces, we 
swallowed hard and gasped for breath. 
On we went, following the plain trail made by the 
limb we had dragged in for firewood, until we came at 
last in sight of the object of our quest, a long, dark 
body, lying across the path. 
It looked as though it might be either a bear or man, 
and to our excited minds was an awful spectacle. 
Walter saw it first, and with a startled "There !" thrust 
forward the lantern as far as he could reach, holding his 
weapon presented in the other hand. I swung the big gun 
up to ready, and in spite of its weight, held it there, with 
the muzzle jerking about as though it was a feather- 
weight. 
We stood thus for a moment, and then in a whisper I 
said: "I can't hold her up any longer; let's both shoot 
and run." 
"No, wait until it moves," said he. 
For another trying moment I stood holding that big, 
heavy gim, every muscle on a terrible strain, and then 
my indignation overcame my fear and I protested: 
"How am I going to hold up this old cannon 'til it 
moves, especially if it is dead, as you think? Here, give 
me the pistol and you take the gun awhile." 
This Walter declined to do, and emboldened by the 
fact that no movement could be detected, we lowered our 
weapons and moved a little nearer. Waiting a moment 
and there still being no movement, we crept yet closer, and 
leaning forward with the light extended as far as we 
could reach, saw plainly the object of our awful fright. 
It was a large, black hog, and stone dead. What looked 
like a bullet hole in the head back of the ear explained its 
death, and a mark in the ear showed it to be identified 
property. 
So thankful were we that the mystery was solved, and 
the danger past, that we hurried back, to camp and went 
to bed without so much as waking the other boys to tell 
them how brave we had been. 
Will and Jim roused up early next morning, and each 
taking one of the guns, and holding as close over our 
heads as possible, awakened us with a double salute. In 
110 humor for such pleasantry, Walter promptly knocked 
Jim down and sat on him, while I chased Will into the 
woods. War was not to the liking of any of us, and a 
truce was soon declared, and all hands repaired to the 
lake for a swim, Walter and I frequently referring in a 
mysterious manner to our adventure of the night before. 
Our swim over, and the younger boys being worked up 
to the proper pitch of excited curiosity, we detailed our 
adventure and took them to see the hog. 
"That is my hog," said Will. "I killed it yesterday 
when they were looting the camp, but I didn't know it 
then, as they all ran off." This was probably true, though 
it had not occurred to us before, not having a very ex- 
alted opinion of his marksmanship, and he not having 
Imown it 
Hunger soon drove other matters out of our minds, and 
we proceeded to canvas the question of breakfast. Bacon 
and meal was the entire contents of our larder, and we 
did not know how to make corn breads 
Fish were to be had for the catching, but fishing was 
no fun on an empty stomach, with hunger gnawing. We 
finally fried some bacon, and made out to cat a b t, 
but it was not very palatable without bread. 
Immediately after breakfast we resumed fishing, and 
soon had a goodly lot of bream in our fish box. While 
paddling back to the landing we discussed the question 
of food, which was now a very serious one. Forgetting 
the fact that we were enjoying exactl}' the kind of trip 
that we first planned, we proceeded to seriously consider 
sending our foragers for bread and other civilized food. 
"We better go home than starve," said Will, who had 
only managed to dispose of one small piece of bacon, and 
was now feeling the pangs of hunger. This heresy was 
promptly rebuked, and we decided that even if we did 
suffer hunger, we would stick it out for the week. 
"Why not eat my hog?" said Will. "He is fat, and 
fresh pork is good." This semeed not altogether a bad 
suggestion, and was the subject of favorable discussion 
until Walter raised the objection that it would be steal- 
ing to take the hog, as it bore a mark. 
Our condition was not yet sufficiently desperate to war- 
rant our stealing a hog, but further discussion brought 
forth the argument that the hog was dead, and if not 
used by us would be a waste, and benefit no one. 
We finally concluded to go to camp, eat an early fish 
dinner, and then butcher the hog and use the meat. 
"Fish are sure good to eat," said Will, as he cleaned 
the bones of his fourth, "but I am glad we will have nice 
fresh pork chops for supper." 
We knew that hogs were usually scalded and scraped, 
but concluded to dispense with it in this case, so after 
dinner we started in with our knives to work up our 
meat. Every fellow had a theory as to the proper way, 
which was tried in turn, but none of them seemed prac- 
tical. 
At the end of an hour's hard work, perspiring and dirty, 
we adjourned in a body to the lake to wash up, leaving a 
horribly mutilated carcass, hacked and torn, from which 
we had tried in vain to get out, first, chops ; second, ten- 
derloin ; third, a ham ; fourth, pigs' feet, and then any- 
thing that was meat, all in vain. 
Thoroughly disgusted, we heartily indorsed Walter's 
positive statement, made as he scrubbed his hands and 
arms with sand, to this effect: "I wouldn't -eat a piece of 
that blamed hog if it was prepared by Delmonico and 
served on solid silver." 
After resting for some time, we tied a bit of rope to 
the least mutilated hind foot of the carcass, and by hard 
work dragged it a safe and comfortable distance from 
our camp down into the swamp, where we left it, fervently 
hoping that the hog incident was finally closed. 
Returning to camp, we got out our minnow seine and 
prepared to catch some minnows, as we had concluded 
that if our diet was to be a fish diet strictly, we might 
at least var3^ the species. 
White perch, goggle eye and trout could be taken with 
minnow bait, and we wanted to try them. What we 
called trout were really black bass, but that was the 
nanae they held locally, and we knew no better then. 
Getting into the boat Ave paddled down to the river, a 
distance of about one-quarter of a mile, and by mid- 
afternoon were back with a nice bucket of minnows, ready 
for business. Lewis Hopkins, 
[to be continued.] 
Toddy Pond. 
Macomb, 111., Oct. 18. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Having received an invitation from Dr. W. S. Blaisdell 
and family of Punxsutawney. Pa., to join them on a 
camping-out visit at East Orland. Maine. I set out for 
that point, going by way of Chicago. Boston and Ban- 
gor. Stopping over in Bangor, I called on my friend 
Manly Hardy, who lives in Brewer, across the Pen- 
obscot River. Mr. Hardy is getting along in years, 
but enjoys telling a good hunting story just the same 
as he did when a young man. No man in Maine knows 
more about the hunting ground in the State than he. He 
has a large building filled with stuft'ed birds and animals 
from almost every clime. It would take a person a 
week to look over and study the different varieties of 
these birds, each one labeled in perfect order with note 
of the part of the country it came from. Any person 
that loves nature could not spend a day with more 
pleasure than here. I look the Bangor and Bncksport 
Railroad and arrived at Bucksport, where I found a 
carriage waiting for me to take me to East Orland, 
where I went into camp with my son and family. The 
next moniing I took a walk over the old farm, where 
I first saAV the light of day. One-half a century had 
brought many changes. The old house that I was born 
in was gone, but the three juniper and an ash tree I 
planted over fifty-five years ago are still standing in 
front of where the house stood. The old red school- 
house had disappeared from the wear of time, but a -new 
one stood on the same spot of ground where the old 
one stood eighty years ago. The town was quite a busi- 
ness place many years ago. The sawmills are about 
all idle now for want of timber, that has disappeared 
by the ravages of the ax. These mills are on what is 
called Toddy Pond. The pond got its name some 150 
j'cars ago. Two men were crossing it, one had a jug 
of molasses and the other had a jug of rum, and they 
cut a hole in the ice and let the water in. They turned 
in the rum and molasses and both took a drink! This 
pond has been known as Toddy Pond ever since. 
Our camp, once owned and built by Mr. Bell, of 
Portland, Conn., is now owned by his brotherj and is 
near this pond o nthe side of Mason's Mountain. It 
is located among the pine trees and has a beautiful view 
overlooking the pond, which is nine miles long. On 
the highest point of the mountain one can see Belfast 
Bay and Castine Bay, where several battles were fought 
in the early settlement of that country. Looking m an- 
other direction one can see the Penobscot River and 
steamers and vessels passing and repassing at all times 
of the day. Mt. Desert can be seen very plainly from 
this hill. 
T shall never forget mv hunt on Mason's Mountain 
in 1856 with W. S. Hanscom, of Portsmouth Navy 
Yard, which terminated so unfortunately. We were 
hunting on top of this hill in a thick young growth, 
when a rabbit jumped up, and I shot the rabbit dead, 
but one of the buckshot struck Mr. Hanscom in the 
leg and felled him to the ground. He carried this shot 
in his leg till he died on the retired list. 
At the foot of this mountain there is a beautiful sheet 
of clear water called Craig's Pond, and here are the 
finest trout I ever saw. but very hard to catch. These 
trout Avill weigli from three to five pounds. There is a 
running stream out of this pond into Great Pond, and 
here the Government Craig's Pond Fish Hatchery is 
located on this stream. It is a beautiful place and well 
adapted for the business. Mr. Atkins, a pleasant gentle- 
man, has charge of the hatchery and takes great pains 
in showing people the workings of it. There are sev- 
eral kinds of trout hatched here, among them is the 
rainbow trout from Colorado. The principal fish hatched 
here is the landlocked salmon. Over 22,000 of them 
have been put into Toddy Pond, where they are do- 
ing nicely. Some of them are three or four years old,, 
and will weigh from one and a half to two pounds. They 
will spawn when four years old, and they will multiply 
very fast. By the time they are seven or eight years 
old they will weigh from eight to ten pounds. lo 
Sebec Lake, Maine, they have caught specimens that 
would weigh from ten to twenty pounds. 
I went out in a boat with John Huckcns on Toddy 
Pond and we caught nineteen with fish worms. We 
caught them in seventy-five feet of water, but fished 
about fifty feet. They will not bite well on a cloudy 
day, but will take hold well on a sunshiny day after 
ten o'clock A. M. till two o'clock P. M. There were 
several other parties fishing the day that I was there, 
and among them was Miss R. M. Leighton, a type- 
writer for a law firm in Portland, Maine. She caught 
quite a number and handled the line the best I ever 
saw a woman. I hear she is fully as handy with the 
rifle, as she shot two fine buck deer last fall. 
On the last Sunday in camp Dr. W. S. Blaisdell gave 
a banquet to his friends, and seventeen sat down to din- 
ner. The dinner was a grand one, and probably there 
will never be such a party in camp there again. East 
Orland is a nice little village, settled by good people, 
and thev are always .glad to see people come among 
them from abroad. There is quite a number of camps 
and summer houses built there, mostly by people from 
Connecticut. They make the place quite lively through 
the summer months, and the residents are very sorry 
to see them return to their homes in the fall. The 
Rev. Mr. Rafrety, of Portland. Conn., has proved him- 
self a salmon fi.sherman as well as ^ pulpit orator, for 
I saw him and Mr. Bell with a fine string of sixteen. 
The deer and ruffed grouse are quite plentiful. The 
deer often come into the fields and destroy the crops, 
and a gentleman wrote me Ihe other day that they had 
eaten up his beans. I hope to be there again another 
summer and try my hand again at salmon fishing— the 
most beautiful of all fish. 
W. O. Blaisdell. 
Salmon and Sea Lions. 
In the current Contemporary Review, Woods Hutchinson con- 
tributes some experiences on the Northwest Coast having a bear- 
ing on the salmon— sea lion question which has been discussed in 
these columns. 
About a mile up the coast from our camp a couple of 
fishermen had established a little hut for the purpose 
of killing (for their fat and hides) the sea-lions, which 
abound on the rocks for which we were bound. Their 
boat was a fine, staunch, old sea-going craft, the gig of 
a whaler, requiring at least six men to row her and 
ten to launch her, as we found to our sorrow. There was 
no lack of game, for directly in front of their little 
cabin and scarcely half a mile off shore the innermost 
group of rocky islands, which we hoped to visit, were 
covered with the great brown bodies of the sea-lions 
and their little, shiny black cubs. They are not aggres- 
sive animals at best, and at that distance the old ones 
looked like great "round sticks of cord wood and the 
youngsters like little black caterpillars. They simply 
carpeted the lower ledges, looking almost as if piled 
npon one another like driftwood after a storm, but as 
they receded from the water their ranks grew thinner 
and thinner, until finally the topmost ledges of the rock- 
reef were occupied by three or four magnificent old 
bulls, the self-constituted sentinels and defenders of the 
herd. Their roaring was both cavernous and continu- 
ous and could be plainly heard all up and down the 
coast whenever the surf would moderate, but I am re- 
luctantly compelled to admit that there was little in any 
way impressive about it. It did not in the least remind 
one of the "great seal roar that beats off shore above 
the loudest gale." It was much more accurately de- 
scribed by the light-keeper, of agricultural antecedents, 
who declared that he could hardly sleep for hearing 
them "a gruntin' and a fitin' all night long, like a passel 
o' big hawks under a barn." What the meaning of it 
all might be was hard to conjecture, for the mating 
arrangements were long since settled and there was 
absolutely no fighting going on. Nor were the songs 
intended "as danger signals, for, with the exception of an 
occasional plunge by a single member tor a cool sea 
bath and a little scurry after a cuttlefish, there was al- 
most no movement going on in the herd. They were 
lying there in the sunshine, like so many logs of drift 
wood, only at intervals lifting their heads to join in 
the extraordinary chorus. Whether for some imagin- 
ary benefit to the crowd or merely for the pleasure of 
hearing their own voices it would be impossible to say. 
The more I see of animals, the more firmly I am con- 
vinced that man for once has been grossly slandered 
w^hen accused of being the only animal which talks 
purely for the pleasure of hearing its own voice. Those 
Avho moralize upon the vain loquacity of men and the 
dignified silence of animals usually know very little 
about animals. The motto of the whole animal world, 
man included, seems to be: "What is the use of having 
a voice if you can't use it?"_ Nearly every animal of 
gregarious habits and the slightest pretension to any 
