Aug. 29, 1903.] 
Charley Lee donated all the shakes for the fince an' 
slabs for the foundation — an' him knowin' no more 
•about the Sacrimints than a suckin' pig knows of 
'dhraw poker! Whin Yreka Jack was lynched, he at- 
tinded. That poor haythen was as chuck full of public 
spoorrit, bhoys, as any Christian whoite man in the 
county. Well, whin the toime kum for the maytin' to 
droive out the Choinese, Charley was there. Big- Bill 
Spottiswood, ye reck'leck, him that was sheriff layther, 
presoided, an' he read the resoloush' that after the first 
of May no Choinese should raymain in Humboldt 
undher pinilty of dith, an' it pashed wid a rush. Thin 
up shtood Charley Lee, an' his face was as yillow as 
goold an' the tears dhript from him — ah, it was pitiful! 
'Bhoys,' he sez, 'It's bither hard,' sez he; 'but majorhty 
rules. Oi've done lived here pretty much all me loif,' 
sez he; 'Oi know no other home or country. Whin 
Oi look about me,' he sez, 'ivry face here is the face 
of a frind,' he sez. 'Oi have no frinds on this here 
earth,' sez he, 'onless they're thim a-settin' here 
forninst me,' sez he. 'Bhoys,' sez he, 'Oi'll go, but 
whin Oi think of me poor ole woife,' sez he, an' me 
ten childer,' sez he, 'an' the three that's buried out in 
the sunny shpot in our little garhden,' sez he, 'whoy' — 
an' he bruck down intoirely. Up joompcd Hank Gris- 
wold — ah, but he was a foine man! A foine man, he 
was, but a bit impoolsive loike. 'Shtop that !' he cried; 
'Shtop that, Charley, else, by God, there'll be morther 
an' "suicide in this room this minnit! Bhoys,' he sez, 
'What are we? Digger Injuns, savidges, woild beasts, 
that we can ploy this rashcal thrick on Charley here? 
Oi'd rather have Charley's yillow hoide an' the whoite 
man's heart that goes wid it, than be aryone of you 
pack of skoonks that voted for that resolush,' sez he, 
plumb dishrememberin' that he had voted for it his- 
self. 'Oi offer a 'mendment that the forcgoin' don't 
nohow apply to Mr. Charles Lee of Alder Crick, seein' 
as how he's whoite clar thro', 'ceptin' his skin, an' if 
ary coyote in this here room wants to vote 'gin the 
'mendment, let him dhraw whin he votes, for Oi shall 
shooly kill him!' Of 'coourse, iv'ryboddy voted 'Oi,' 
for we all loiked Charley; an' to tell the thruth, whin 
the resolush' was dhrawed, what wid bein' used to 
considherin' of him as wan of us, nobody guv heed 
that he was a Choinese." 
A glorious, wild, free life they led, for one short 
week, in that herder's cabin on Long Ridge — glorious 
freedom for them, but solitary confinement for poor 
dog Rondo. As an old-timer put it: "When God made 
Trinity, He chucked things in anyhow; mostly end- 
wise!" ' Endwise, they have remained. On the evening 
of their arrival, they turned the old hound loose; he 
immediately struck a scent; ran the deer through dense 
timber into a gulch so cavernous that no call or whistle 
could penetrate it; stuck to his quarry and returned late 
in the forenoon of the following day, foot-sore, but 
with tell-tale blood flecks on his chops and a clean 
hoof-cut on his fore-shoulder. Thenceforward, they 
still-hunted, in the mornings and evenings, and fished 
: a little sometimes between hunts. They killed four 
' bucks— all that they cared to kill; for neither of them 
has ever felt that it was right to take the life of a 
beautiful, harmless animal, just to convert 120 pounds 
■ of carcass into 7, or, at the outside, 8 pounds, of jerked 
venison. Dire need alone can justify the doing of this 
■ deed: and let him who does it wantonly, forfeit the 
• honorable name of sportsman. Packing-out time came 
all too soon — and what a to-do they made over it! 
Marin's painfully elaborated diamond hitch proved to 
be a granny's knot and it worked loose, of course, on 
the most ticklish slide on the whole momitain, and 
venison,_ camp-kit, fishing tackle and their spare gun 
went sailing down into the gulch. Next, Bob essayed 
to tighten the hind mule's girth, whereupon that gentle 
beast reached around and nipped a succulent chunk 
from the region of his short-ribs. Packing is one of 
the fine arts and good packers are born, not made. 
Item: Eternal vigilance is the price of corporal en- 
• tiretj'-, when mules are about. 
!• . Once more the buckboard, lightened of all superflu- 
"ous dunnage, for a quick homeward run. Once more 
-the ever changing panorama of ridge, glade, canyon, 
^forest, mountain; the brief noon rest; the starry, silent 
■'■night; the halt for friendly chat with wayfarer bound 
• Northward; the pause at lonely cabin door to buy 
"bread or wild-oat hay. For Rondo's sake they tarried 
^ day at Rowe's station in Sherwood Valley, where the 
^true old dog got his deer and Marin saw his first 
•gacomixle — as has been told. Then Ukiah; a waiting 
J^ain; and a total cash capital of $2.35! "Wonder if 
:ke'\l cash my check," mused Marin, dubious, as he 
ifaced the old Vermonter in his little bank. He cashed 
"This is scarcely banking, sir," said Marin, first 
{pocketing the gold. "Young man, banking's mostly a 
:knowledge of human nater. When two sech disreputa- 
ble-lookin' ruffians as you be come inter this bank and 
says they're professional men from the city, I knows 
they're tellin' me the truth. Ef you had come in here 
lookin' peart and wearin' a stove-pipe, you wouldn't 
have got a red cent, without full 'dentification. You 
boys has been of? on a deer hunt. Used to hunt 'em 
myself when I was sprier." Truly is there a free- 
masonry in sportscraft! May its spirit flourish! 
Marin. 
It is our sad duty to announce the appearance of one of the 
most colossal lies of recent yeai-s. The story which the man tells 
is this; He has a farm on the Missouri River bottom, near Elk 
Valley. A week ago the river began to rise, and he saw that his 
lend would all be submerged. He transferred his family and also 
his stock and movable property to higher ground. There was 
On his farm, so he says, exactly two miles of barbed-wire fence. 
It was five-wire fence, and there were 32 barbs to the rod, or a 
grand total of 102,400 barbs. Yet this industrious liar and the 
hired man baited every one of these barbs with a small bit of 
meat. They finished and escaped to the bluffs just as the water 
came up. For twenty-six hoiu-s the water remained five feet 
above the top of the fence. Then the river receded, and the man 
went down and examined hi.s fence. He found, so he has the 
assurance to say, a fish hanging from every barb except three, 
or 102,397 in all. There were pickerel, bass, pike, suckers, and 
many other varieties. They averaged 10 pounds each in weight 
Riving him the astonishing total of 1,023,980 pounds of fresh fish! 
He discharged the hired man because he had not properly baited 
the three barbs which failed to catch any fish. — Farm and Home. 
All communications intended for Forest and Stkxav should 
always be addressed to the Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 
New York, and not to aajr individual connected witli the paper. 
Camping in Ontario. 
L— A Windy Day. 
The wind arose in the night; and, becoming very 
strong, it swept through the spruce pines of our island 
with a prolonged "s-s-s-s-swi-i-i-ish" which, though muf- 
fled to softness in the evergreen panoply, yet denoted 
force. This sound and the dashing of the spray against 
the rocks at the water's edge, were the noises that 
awakened me. Peering from the doorway of our creak- 
ing shack I saw that no light of dawn was visible; yet it 
seemed to me I could detect a grayer shade where the sur- 
face of the lake, my ears told me, was being churned 
into a white froth. When, after a seemingly long period, 
the morning light prevailed, the guide arose and started 
the breakfast fire, with much stamping of boots and 
cracking of wood in reassurance. 
The wind swept in gusts around the shack, blowing 
the camp-fire smoke fiercely about, and playing with the 
flame as if it only wished the guide's fire was a real forest 
conflagration, or some such wilder and bigger playmate. 
Swift clouds pressed upon each other in a jumbled, free- 
for-all race across the sky; and at odd intervals bursts of 
light from the now risen sun shone through the interstices 
in the cloud panorama, causing the rugged, wind-furrowed 
surface of the lake to give out a weird, unusual glister, 
and calling especial notice to the white trimming upon the 
largest of the dark waves. The old, heavy, fire-formed 
Indian canoe which we had found and tied to our wharf, 
danced about almost as lightly as if it were in the tiappy 
Hunting Grounds obeying the spirit paddle of the red 
man who created it from a tree of the forest. A half 
dozen gulls from the not far distant bay hovered and 
circled over the_ water, now battling against and now with 
set wings sailing in long graceful sweeps before the 
gale. 
My companions and I plotted continually how the wind 
might be outwitted. Buoyancy was in our every thought ; 
and each of us, before actually launching the canoe, tried 
his muscle successfully in an imaginary battle with the 
waves. Because the canoe is a frail bark there is a 
sprightly satisfaction in feeling it takes one lightly over 
wave crest, and in having it bound forward in obedience 
to each dip of the paddle. We swept along at a leisurely 
pace in the stiller waters, and then, leaving the shelter of 
the last of the islands in the semi-circular chain that 
stretched part way across the lake, we met the full force 
of the wind with our paddles buried. At moments our 
canoe seemed to stand motionless, and we were almost 
unable to cornplete the strokes ; but once under the shelter 
of the opposite shore, such wind as reached us served 
only to sweep us gracefully before it as it had the gulls. 
We had set our minds this day upon a sheltered little 
Jake we knew of, and for this bit of water, which must 
have appeared from the sky like a sleepy eye of the woods, 
we now pointed our canoes. Evidently our plan con- 
flicted with those of a mother loon, for we saw the bird 
swimming about with her young as we entered the lake. 
Immediately the old bird took alarm. She dived quickly 
and reappeared at some distance, calling in a frightened 
tremolo for her oft'spring. As for that little towsie- 
headed fellow, he seemed to have little of his mother's 
fear, and allowed us to approach so closely that we de- 
cided to capture him ; but lo ! when we went nearer, the 
innocent appearing young rascal dived before our eyes 
and was gone. But after some seconds he reappeared be- 
hind us,_ where he calmly ruffled his young feathers in an 
old fashioned way. 
Fishing upon a windy day from a canoe which rises 
and falls with the frequent swells, which swerves about 
at the mercy of each new gust of wind, and in which one 
must sit patiently and quietly in a cramped position, is 
an occupation which few persons would abandon with re- 
gret after three or four hours of it. Yet, to the zealous 
fisherman and canoeman, it has its fascination, too. The 
strike of a game bass upon a windy day comes always 
as a surprise. The fact that the intervals between strikes 
are long, and that the fisherman is unable to see anything 
below the roily, boiling surface — even the glint of the 
v/hite belly of a fish that is suddenly upturned as it at- 
tempts to take the bait — ^makes each tug upon the line a 
period of strong recurring interest. And when, after a 
few moments of vigorous battle, the fisherman is able to 
draw a small-mouth bass to the restless surface, where 
the swells at one instant engulf it, so that the fisherman is 
fearful that the fish has thrown the hook, and at another 
instant reveal half of its shining body, so that he is im- 
mediately reassured and begins to gloat over his prize, 
v.'hile a companion holds .the little scales in readiness to 
weigh the new arrival as soon as it shall have been suc- 
cessful!}^ caught in the dip net, it seems that a veritable 
miracle has been performed. And immediately the won- 
der is how any fish could have found its way in all the 
confusion and turmoil of the water to the bait. 
Our day, even in that partially sheltered lake, was wild 
and reckless enough to try our endurance; but it was 
sweetened with an occasional circumstance of the kind 
which is a fisherman's moment of triumph, so that our 
net, when we ceased fishing for less active diversion on 
shore, trailed quite low in the water. 
We ate our luncheon near the buildings of a deserted 
lumber camp that we discovered. A dreary place it was ! 
Gloomy and forsaken the buildings stood on the shore 
of a little arm of the lake, quite sheltered from the wind. 
The glare of the now brilliant sun made the shadows in 
the open doorways of the neglected cabins seem dark and 
dungeon-like. Peering within we perceived that certain 
of the narrow passageways between the tiers of rough, 
closely built bunks which lined the walls were strung with 
wires, upon some of which still hung discarded coats and 
trousers and heavy underwear, all " appearing as if they 
had been put there at night time to dry, as no doubt they 
originally had been. At one doorway a furious hissing 
noise that sounded in our ears like nothing we had ever 
heard before caused us to step back in alarm. Conclud- 
ing, upon second thought, that we had disturbed a nest 
of rattlesnakes, we armed ourselves with clubs and crept 
back for a glimpse of the reptiles. The hissing continued 
louder than before; but, as our eyes became accustomed 
to the darkness, we discovered that we had intruded only 
upon a colony of bats, for a number of the little creatures 
could be seen clinging to the walls ; and now I knew how 
uncanny had been that noise made by the evil soul of Pro- 
crustes, which "fled forth and went squeaking down to 
hades like a bat into the darkness of a cave." 
We wandered a distance from the clearing into the 
woods, and stretched ourselves out at full length upon the 
ground near the summit and upon the sheltered side of a 
steep hill. By reaching out our hands we could ahnost 
touch the top branches of the pines that had their roots 
m the soil of the gully below; and between the upper 
branches of two of the trees we could look as through 
a window out upon the water of our sheltered lake. 
How the wind droned through the forest behind us— 
suggesting sleep. If the woods are more lonely at one 
time than another, it is when the wind surges through 
them, for though the wind itself is company for a time, 
it is not unlike sweet music heard too long. Either it 
drowns out other sounds entirely or makes them sound 
distant and indistinct, always forcing its own monotonous 
presence in the ears until one is glad to shut them to the 
v/orld and find a more animated presence in dreams. 
When the wind is high the finer voices of the woods are 
hushed. The twitterings, the love notes of the birds, are 
blown skyward as they are uttered, and even the penetrat- 
ing call of the loon in northern woods seems to come 
from a great distance and to sound like a burst of 
Bacchanalian laughter that the wind is tossing riotously 
about, only now and then permitting a few notes to 
reach the earth. The wind, having snatched from one's 
very ears the pleasant sounds of the forest, seems to say 
in his conceit: "tiere am I. Listen to me. Woo-oo.-oo; 
woo-oo ; woo-oo-oo." 
Arousing ourselves finally from the stupor that was upon 
us, we explored the little plateau which stretched back from 
the top of our hill, plucking a few wild gooseberries that 
we found ; and several times we came upon fresh evidences 
of deer, and it became plain, upon further investigation, 
that two or three of them had spent the night there. Per- 
haps, even at that moment, they were near at hand, for 
one may somtimes walk within a few rods of them and 
know nothing of their presence — such is the cunning of 
the deer, which has sense enough to save itself needless 
exertion when it perceives that it is not seen. Our pulses 
were quickened even by the thought that deer had been in 
that place the night previous, and by the thought that we 
were able to look out through the tree tops from one of 
their own retreats upon scenes which must have been 
their daily morning inspiration. 
Warned at last by the waning sun, we launched our 
canoes with reluctance. When we entered the big open 
lake the wind swept upon us almost overwhelmingly, 
but by hugging the shore and landing frequently we crept 
campward, spurred with haunting visions of a supperless 
night in the woods. Yet there was pleasure in the strug- 
gle. Kneeling with our backs against the canoe's braces 
we looked straight upon every oncoming wave with 
thrills of joy and confidence. And our canoes rode each 
swell with a grace that belongs wholly to their kind, al- 
though one's prow rose now high out of the water and 
now seemed, for an instant, about to plunge beneath the 
surface. Our clothing, to be sure, was wet when we 
reached camp, and our appetites were keen ; but we found 
the guide standing there before our home-like appearing 
shack waiting to put the finishing touches upon a bounti- 
ful supper. He smiled affably, and, pointing with a fork 
toward the reddening sunset, said: "Bad wind to-day. 
Good day to-morrow, maybe." Milton Marks. 
When I Am Gone. 
When I am gone whom would I have come round. 
To make things cheerful near my grassy mound? 
I'll tell you what would best 
Become my place of rest: 
Let my loved favorites of the field and air. 
And circling forest, often visit there. 
The lonesome turtle-dove 
There call unto his love 
At early morn, at noon or eventide, 
Until his truant mate flies to his side. 
The robin there be seen 
Hopping o'er the green. 
And stately field-lark sing his morning song. 
And yellow-hammer, too, come lumb'ring 'long. 
There from bush to bush 
Should flit the gifted thrush, 
Rich music make. The sweet-voiced catbird, too, 
Should sing his love-song there the whole day through. 
And in the tall trees near 
One frequently should hear 
The noisy blackbird calling to his mate 
In early spring, at morn or evening late. 
And there should sometimes come 
And sit and beat his drum. 
The gaudy woodpecker, as if he would 
Awake to life the sleeper if he could. 
And on some neighboring tree 
A visitor should be 
The old black crow, and, as he's wont to do. 
Look round awhile and caw a time or two. 
Then when the twilight comes, 
And the whirring beetle hums, 
I hope from out the wood the owl will fly, 
And sound his doleful note near where I lie. 
And slyly creeping out 
From the stubble roundabout. 
Bob White should come and perch and whistle there 
In that lone place unto his lady fair. 
The red-bird and the jay 
I know will pick a day, 
And from the thicket come to visit me. 
And hop and fly about from tree to tree. 
There one should often hear t. 
