Oct. 17, ipoj-J 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
£93 
A Night Scene in Maine. 
>Jew York, Oct. 6. — Editor Fmrst and Stream: One 
night in the fall, a few years ago, I witnessed a scene 
in northern Maine, a description of which, I think, is 
worth recording. 
I was encamped with Louis Nicholas and Sebat 
Tomah on the thoroughfare between Eagle and 
Churchill lakes, on Allagash waters, where I had gone 
in quest of moose. At that time it was not considered 
unsportsmanlike to call moose, and the law allowed 
hunting during the rutting season. 
About 8 o'clock in the evening Louis and I paddled 
across the thoroughfare and took up our station, con- 
cealed by some rushes on the western side. The sun 
was just sinking below the horizon and the clouds 
were colored with grays, pink, crimson, orange, yellow 
and gold; while the sky was of a blue, changing from a 
deep tint to a turquoise hue. Louis gave a few in- 
effectual calls. Meanwhile the sky clouded over, and 
the dark green background of pines and spruce on the 
opposite shore, now almost black, was lightened only 
by vivid flashes of lightning in the southern skv. 
After an interval, the clouds cleared away, and the 
stars came out and fairly scintillated in the clear, cold 
atmosphere, and there was no sound to disturb the 
weird call of the horn except the occasional whistle of 
a loon as he flew over, and once in a while a hoot owl 
calling to his far distant mate. 
Presently it again clouded over, and everything was 
hushed; and then, out of the east, there came a stra.ngc 
light of long streamers occasionally flashing upward 
to the zenith, followed by the development of a broad, 
bright, golden band below them, which gradually ex- 
tended itself in the form of the arc of a circle, until it 
reached from the horizon on the east to the horizon 
on the west, with the long flames flashing upward, and 
some of them now turning to red. Then out of the ^ 
east came the most wonderful phenomenon. I cannot 
describe it better than to state that it seemed as if a 
great hand had taken a long, broad, curled, silver shav- 
ing and seizing it by one end waved it slowly across the 
golden band, so that the light on the curled silver 
appeared now here, now there, on different parts, while 
other parts temporarily vanished. This display of the 
aurora lasted for an hour, and then the clouds again 
plunged us once more into gloom. 
But the freshening wind gradually dispersed the 
clouds, and the risen moon gave them a silver lining 
while its beams danced on the waves of the lake. 
As we turned to go home, I said to Louis, "Louis, 
have you, ever seen such a sight as we saw to-night?" 
He replied, "Seen what?" "Have you seen nothing 
to-night?" "No." 
And yet we had seen in one evening all the natural 
lights which the heavens display to man. 
I do not expect to see such a sight ever again, nor 
is it all of hunting to shoot a moose. 
J. E. HiNDON Hyde. 
New York, Oct. 0. 
One of the Veterans. 
To those who have long known and loved the Adi- 
rondacks, the passing of the veterans who established 
and made honorable the profession of the Adirondack 
guide, is saddening, like the depletion of the woods 
themselves. Neither can be replaced. To cherish both 
is of lasting value. The one presents an example of 
noble manliness and fidelity, the other a model of ele- 
gance, because combining beauty and utility. If it be 
claimed that this is mere sentiment, the "answer is 
emphatically no — it is also truth. At the same time 
spare us the infliction of souls without any sentiment. 
It has a large place in the work and joy of living. It 
is, therefore, a pleasure to sketch in outline the career 
of one of the veterans, Nathaniel S. Graves. 
Born in Unity, N. H., in 1832, he has manifested the 
proverbial ingenuity, mechanical ■ skill, pluck and 
energy which have made the genuine Yankee so large 
a factor in the building of this nation. When nine- 
teen years old he visited an uncle living at Keene, 
Essex county, N. Y., and enjoyed his first deer hunt 
in the Adirondacks. He went with his uncle and a 
young fellow named Avery (now living at Long Lake) 
to hunt near North Elba. The uncle spied a deer com- 
ing toward them, and directed that all should get down 
in the grass and keep still until the word fire, when 
all should fire together. Young Graves rested his rifle 
across his uncle's shoulder. When they fired at short 
range the uncle said, "You got him." Graves said, 
"How do you know we got him? Perhaps your bullet 
dropped him." "No," said the uncle, "it didn't, for my 
gun didn't go off. Only the cap snapped." Avery was 
asked, "Where did you hit him?" and replied with con- 
fidence, "In the head — where did you hit him?" Graves 
answered, "In the hind parts — for uncle moved and 
disturbed my aim just as we shot." Examination 
showed an ear just clipped by Avery's ball and both 
hind legs broken by Graves. This was in the spring. 
Graves then went to relatives in Boston and spent the 
summer there in work. Then with a brother and 
brother-in-law came to the Adirondacks on a hunting 
trip. At Upper Saranac Lake they found the only 
hotel in the Adirondacks, a three-room log house, kept 
by three brothers named Martin, one of whom after- 
ward kept the well-known "Martin's" on Lower Sara- 
nac. Of a neighbor a few miles away the Martins 
hired a yellow cur at 25 cents a week, to run deer for 
Graves and his company. They got every deer they 
run, and the races were generally short. Trout were 
abundant everywhere. The hunters lived on the fat 
of the land. They hired a boat of Wm. MacClenathan 
(spelled according to pronunciation by Mr. Graves), 
Uncle Mac, they called him, who had built the first 
boat known in all the region, and may be styled the father 
of the Adirondack guide boat. A neighbor of Uncle 
Mac's had built a boat after his model, and these two 
were the only boats known to exist in the woods at 
that time. These boats had a narrow, square stern, but 
were otherwise and in a general sense the .model after 
which all succeeding Adirondack boats have been built, 
says Mr. Graves. That winter he stayed with his uncle 
at Keene, and cut 300 cords of 4-foot wood, at 40 ^ents 
a cord. But he did not liave to split nor pile it, as it 
was for burning in a coal-pit. He was used to hard 
work, for his boyhood life had been strenuous. When 
II years old he began to work out for $8.33 per month 
and a winter's schooling. His employer did not send 
liim to school, and young Graves' father sued the em- 
ployer for this violation of contract, and recovered 
damages. But the boy did not get the money. 
A brother was hired by another man, who soon re- 
ported to the father, and the following dialogue took 
place: "Graves, that's too big wages for that boy." 
NATHANIEL S. GRAVES. 
"Send him home, then, if he don't earn it." "I didn't 
say he didn't earn it, but it's too much — more than 
he ought to earn." "He'll have to earn it at home." 
"Then he might as well earn it for me." 
The boy stayed his year. These incidents illustrate 
some phases of early New England life and the growth 
of that fiber which made the character of Western 
pioneers as well. But that was before the days of - 
trades unions, dominated by walking delegates and the 
(lack of) principle of the largest wages for the smallest 
amount of labor. O temporal O mores! 
The next spring, after cutting the wood. Graves built 
a boat, modeled from memory, after Uncle Mac's. So 
far as known this was the third boat built in the Adi- 
SHOP AND HOME. 
rondacks. After a hunt Graves went to Boston and 
stayed several years, But the love of the woods was on 
him; he had seen very desirable timber land around 
the head of Big Tupper Lake; thought he would like 
to live there, and when Moses A. Horrick, manager of 
the Underbill Hardware Co., of Boston, offered to 
give him i6q acres a half mile west of Big Tupper if 
he would move up there, he promptly took it. He then 
lived about Big Tupper five or six years, and cut the 
first road to Horseshoe Pond. About this time guid- 
ing began to come in vogue, and little by little Graves 
began to guide on Big Tupper and Bog River. About 
this time also Paul Smith came out with a white boat, 
guided some, and in about two years started a hotel 
in a little log house. This was the beginning of the 
now famous hostelry. At this time Graves took a 
sport and his guide to Bog River for trout. The sport 
had a fanc}' rod, and Graves said to him, "Leave your 
fancy pole in the boat — I'll give you all the fish you 
want — only don't show yourselves in sight of the 
water." So Graves cut a birch lamming pole, posted 
the two men behind a stump, where they could fish un- 
seen by trout, went to fishing himself, and for a while 
the three men "had a trout in the air about all the 
time." 
One season Graves went to Bog River with two 
others to hunt for market. They saved the hi<les and 
jerked the venison. Most of the hunting was done at 
night. During the day time they dressed the deer 
kihed the previous night. In eight days' time they 
killed so many that Graves' share of the net proceeds 
was $83. "That's what we could do in the Adiron- 
dacks before sporting people came in here. Now 
guides cannot get a living," said the old man when 
giving the writer this account of his life. Tlaen the 
lavv^ placed no restriction on the number of deer a man 
might kill in one season, and the close season was 
only from Jan. i until spring, or time for night hunt- 
ing. Hemlock boughs were then used for camp beds 
Balsam was not yet fashionable. Trapping fur Was a 
valuable adjunct to deer hunting, and, as both lasted 
till New Year's, the fall's work was generally profit- 
able. 
Later in life Mr. Graves had large experiences ais a! 
mining prospector in the West, and has been to the 
Rocky Mountains and back several times. He has 
been in several Indian fights and with 46 others was. 
once captured by a large band of Apaches. A few 
years ago he drove with a horse and cart from near 
tidewater in Lower California across the Rockies and 
the plains to Blue Mountain Lake, N. Y. The journey 
occupied three months, during which he camped and 
cooked, earning money enough to buy footl for him- ' 
self and horse, by tinkering-^clcaning h'urfdreds iaf -:; 
clocks and mending tinware. Mr. C. H. Downs, the n 
skillful taxidermist at Blue Mountain Lake, bought 
the horse and cart, and still keeps tliem as curiositieSi?-'- 
Mr. Graves now lives at Blue Mountain Lake, in a 
little building He erected over the water, ahd which 
constitutes boat shop and dwelling house combined. 
Here he supports himself by building boats for sale 
and to rent. He is an earnest Christian of the^ Advent 
persuasion, and as such enjoys the respect of the com- 
munity, for nothing will induce him to break his Sabn;> 
bath in any wa}', and whatever men m:iy believe for- 
themselves, they respect consistency in others. 
Enclosed is a photograph of the veteran, and also ■ 
one of his shop house, and the writer is confident that 
whoever looks on the honest, kindly features of the 
old man will wish for him that his last days on earth- 
may be as calm and peaceful as his earlier ones w^rer- 
toilsome and adventurous, and that in the next world 
he may fully realize his hope. Juvenal. , 
October in INtbra&ka. 
October. No other section in the country wit- ' 
nesses a more wonderful pageant of nature's paiiit'in^s, 
during the mystic month now upon us, than does the 
always fair prairie State, Nebraska. Our autumnal 
days, and we have nearly two months of them, are little 
less than golden dreams, with their uniformly cloudiest 
skies, floods of sunshine, harvest moons and entrancing, 
radiance of hill, plain and wooded vale, where the azure *" 
of the jay's gaudy coat vies with the topaz of the. 
flicker's wing, the Tyrian-dyed grasses and yellow and- 
scarlet foliage. I used to think that the perfection of ' 
Jack Frost's frescoing and the acme of tall tints was td'^ 
be found only in the oak and shellbark woods of old ■ 
Ohio. It was there, I thought, on 'the 'gentle hills of 
Fairfield county, October hung her piost resplendent- 
jewels and spread her cloth of gold. ~ - 
-But there is a valley here, which twists and writhes 
and convolutes away through the paradisical north-' 
west country, from the city's very limits almo.st, where*- 
the snowy-barked cottonwood, the yellow and crim- 
soned maple, the purple plum, the blood-red sumach, 
all mingle with countless shades of green and dun, and 
these, with the silvery sinuosities of a cln^ioi'ous fiver,' 
make up a combination of contour and varied hues 
charming enough for the mythical land of' elfs and 
fairies. Now it is the level plain, pasture, grain and 
hay field, yellow with stubble and dotted everywhere 
with tidy farmhouses and rows and groups of stacks 
of hay and grain. Now it merges into a rolling land, 
over whose blue shimmering crest you see what ap- 
pears to, be a range of low "mountains, wiiich.you long, 
to reach and climb. But as you go on the hills seem 
to dissolve into the general level and you pass throHgh 
miles and miles of modest undulations, like the I6ng 
swells of a leafy ocean, with all the myriads of the 
waning summer's floral hosts springing from the fad- 
ing sward and spreading like rich tapestries . under 
the umbrageous trees. In consonance with the senti- 
ment of the mellow time of maturity and harvest, that 
incomparable artist, October, touches each forest leaf, 
each branch, each tendril, and even .to the tiniest 
blades of grass, with those magic dyes the June flowers 
were wont to stain themselves, kii]dlii,ig the whole val- 
ley with a glow that shadows even the most gorge- 
ous sunset. 
Until I trod tlie Elkhorn valley, by happy chance,- 1 
had little conception of the passion and intensity of 
autumn tints. _ In Ohio the foundation hue is yellow, 
the beeches, hickory, ash, elm. walnut, all yielding their 
different tones of gold, but along the Elkhorn, the spe- 
cies of Lilliputian oak, plum, crabapple, grape, gum 
and sumach, largely prevail, and it i.s these tliat.flauut 
forth the universal oriflamme, with the most vivid reds 
and bronzes and purples, of all thei-r kind, while all 
the vines and weeds and grasses, instead of drying 
away into a dull gray, rival each other with their 
dazzling tints. Upon this kaleidoscopic ground is laid 
the exquisite embroidery of the low. straggling woods, 
with its hopple and its hazel arraying themselves in 
perplexing and mysterious combinations, with their 
dashes of madder, and splashes and splotches of ma- 
roon, of pink, of saffron, of gamboge and amber, ming- 
ling and intermingling with warming russets, drabs, 
grays and glows of duller texture. As the sun goes 
down in riant clouds, so Nebraska's autumn dayS:..depart 
in a halo of glory! 
Gladsome, indeed, are these auriferous times to -the 
sportsman — to the man who loves to hunt and the man 
who loves to fish. He needs no calendar, to tell, him 
that tl>is is the chosen time. He sees the long, dotted 
Ihies stretched across the morning and evening sky, 
and he knows that the ducks are on the wing, a-ud the 
faint breath which fills his nostrils with the odors of 
the ambrosia and wild chrysanthemum, bears to him, 
in imagination, anyway, the whir of the uprising chick- 
en's wings. Down in the neglected pastures the feath- 
ery stems of the ragweed and brown, naked stalks of 
the sunflower are but pillars from which the yellow- 
bellied spider is stretching his lacework and the'rowen 
fields are specked with laded asters, clover heads and 
the white panicles of the wild parsnip and the shriveled 
discs of the poppies. The dull yellow af ilie wheat 
stubble is tufted with ambitious mullin and -bedraggled 
hemp, green still, but fast withering, aiad tlie daily 
