Dec. 3 , 1904.I * FOREST AND SI REAM. 468 
I gathered in a grouse or two more on the homeward 
journey, to the increased gratification of Jet, and when 
the cavalcade finally drew up at my door all I had to 
show for the fatigues of the trip into the hills was a 
bunch of nine beautiful birds, which were shared with 
friends who in other days had been good to us in like 
manner. 
Now this is not much of a story to offer to the mem- 
bers of the great Forest and Stream family in return for 
theconstant enjoyment of the perusal of the dear old paper 
which keeps us all in constant touch and sympathy; but 
it is such as I have. 
Though the passing years are dealing kindly with the 
veteran hunter, he cannot climb the mountain sides as in 
days gone by; and though smaller game only comes to 
bag in reward of lessened effort, and his step is slower 
and shorter in its pursuit, yet the fascination of the 
wilderness still holds sway in his heart, and the moun- 
tains, holding wide their giant arms in silent invitation, 
still appeal' to him, and not in vain. 
Orin Belknap. 
Kettle Falls, Washington. 
A Forest Derelict. 
On a mountain-top, but the flight of a grouse south 
of the line dividing the counties of Sullivan and Ulster, 
and between the Willowemoc and Neversink, with hem- 
lock, balsam and spruce interwoven among the hard- 
wood timber upon its borders, Long Pond lies. - Be- 
neath its quiet surface pickerel lurk, while muskrats 
build their homes upon the marshy sections of its 
shores. Into its depths the deer plunge, to throw off 
the scent when run by stray hounds, and during the 
summer months seek relief in its cold waters from their' 
greater tormenters, the flies, and feed upon the lily- 
pads. The bluejay flits about the foliage, his plumage 
and noisy call vying with the effulgence and monoton- 
out notes of the scarlet tanager. At the approach of 
evening the woods resound with the sweetest melody 
of the American forestland, the song of the hermit 
thrush. 
At the lower, or southern, end of the pond, partly 
submerged, lie a number of fallen and decayed tree 
trunks, their size and evident age indicating the growth 
of hemlock and pine that preceded the advent of the 
tannery and the sawmill. Amid these corpses of former 
forest monarchs is a log of some eighteen feet in 
length, the peculiar outlines of which attract attention; 
upon inspection marks of human handicraft are at once 
apparent. At first sight it impresses one as having 
been designed for use as a trough for the feeding or 
watering of cattle; but the ends have been fashioned 
with more precision than such an object would de- 
mand, and a seat has been worked out of the solid 
log at one extremity, while an auger-hole, as if in- 
tended for the reception of a staff, has been bored half- 
way through the bottom at the opposite end. Time and 
weather have worn off the sides where the log has 
been cut thin, so that when put into the water and en- 
tered the displacement of one's weight leaves it prac- 
tically without freeboard. Yet its steadiness and buoy- 
ancy, even to-day, prove it to have once been a staunch 
canoe. And this is the tradition that attaches to it: 
Long before a white man had effected a permanent 
habitation in what was then a vast wilderness, when 
the hardy trapper alone had penetrated the remote 
solitudes and run his fur line into the country of the 
Lenni-Lenape, a noble pine stood among many of its 
kind' upon the margin of the little mountain lake. Had 
the pine been given powers of observation, with the 
passing of years gradual changes in its environment 
would have been noted. Where formerly the twang 
of the bow-string had barely awakened an echo, the 
crack of the rifle was now heard; and the greater fre- 
quency of camp-fires and larger volumes of smoke pro- 
claimed the replacing of the savage by the white man. 
Still the sombre hue of the raven blended with the 
dark green of the spruce; the cry of panther, the howl 
of wolf broke the silence of the forest; eagles soared 
above the fir-capped mountain— primitive wilderness 
lingered. 
In time the visits of the white man became more 
frequent. Isolated log huts sprang up in clearings left 
by forest fires, and the restless settler sought in wood 
and waters additions to his scanty larder. Necessity 
rather than pleasure brought him to Long Pond. Trout, 
the preoccupants of the lake, were readily caught from 
a rudely-constructed raft of logs. Deer were shot as 
they fed upon the shores or drank of the waters of the 
pond. As the condition of the settlers improved, a 
spirit of sportsmanship was engendered in place of the 
desire to secure fish and game for food alone, and the. 
need of a canoe on Long Pond was. felt. 
On a summer morning, prior to the period of birth 
of the oldest living inhabitant of Sullivan county, two 
men broke out of the woods upon the shore of the pond. 
Their mixed garb of homespun and skins denoted the 
dual character of husbandman and trapper. Upon their 
shoulders rested the implements that had laid the foun- 
dation of America — the rifle and the ax. Searching 
among the larger timber for a tree suitable for their 
purpose, the lordly pine was chosen. Incessant and 
vigorous ax-strokes followed, and the tree that had 
withstood the storms of centuries succumbed to the 
power of man. The desired length was then chopped 
from the butt and the construction of a dugout com- 
menced. Occasional pauses in the work occurred while 
a survey was made of the progress in the crude boat 
budding. At noon a frugal meal of rye or corn-bread, 
with an accompaniment of venison or bear meat — or 
possibly of the greater luxury of salt pork — was eaten. 
Perhaps a line was cast into the lake, and that trout, 
fresh from the water, supplied a welcome variety to the 
meagre repast. The axes were then resumed and with 
the passing of the afternoon the building of the dug- 
out advanced. At length it was ready for trial. Likely 
not without anxiety was the test of its steadiness made. 
Some slight alterations in the outline of the craft may 
have been required to enable it to maintain an even keel. 
A few clips with the ax effected these. A slab was now 
riven from the trunk that furnished the hull; paddles 
were made, from this, and the canoe was ready for use. 
Eager to test its merits, birch or iron-wood saplings 
were secured and the woodsmen paddled out upon the 
pond to fish a spring hole favored by the large trout 
(luring the heat of summer. 
Upon the return to shore, a round of birch or spruce 
bark was peeled from a convenient tree, and from this 
a jack was formed. The light was obtained from a 
large candle, made by removing the pith from a piece 
of elder wood and refilling the cavity with tallow and 
a wick. 
By this time darkness had fallen. The settlers, weary 
yet contented with the result of their day's work, with- 
drew into the cover of the woods to obtain a few hour's 
repose until the waning of the moon should admit of 
successful hunting. In fancy we see their stealthy re- 
turn about midnight, the lighting of the jack, the 
noiseless entry into the dugout, the older hunter with his 
flintlock rifle of great length in the bow; while the 
younger man paddles the canoe silently along the edge 
of the lake, with the light directed almost at a right 
angle to their course. With weird effect, like some 
will o' the wisp, the dugout glides along the shore 
line. A black duck, feeding upon the' water near the 
nest of his mate, gets up in alarm; a muskrat splashes 
noisily from the bank into the pond; the screech owl 
hurls defiance at the hoot owl — event the steady nerves 
of the older hunter feel a thrill at these interruptions 
of the stillness. As the canoe proceeds, the older man 
waves many an admonitory signal backward to his im- 
patient companion to check his speed. Disappointment 
has -begun to make itself felt within the breast of the 
latter. To himself he complains: "There are no deer 
in. Didn't I say there was no use hunting to-night 
after chopping all day? We might as well— ah!" The 
rifle is extending itself cautiously under the ' light — it 
is now held in the position for firing. As yet he who 
wields the paddle sees nothing. But the actions of his 
more experienced comrade in the bow dispel any 
misgivings that may have arisen within him. As the 
canoe silen:ly advances under the influence of the noise- 
less paddle strokes, an indistinct form, showing gray- 
ish in the candle light, is made out by the man in the 
stern. The figure of a deer with head erect, held in 
fascination by the jack, follows, and the light from the 
bow is reflected toward the hunters in two balls of fire. 
Holding the canoe steady with the paddle, the younger 
mart waits expectantly. From the bow come a flash 
of fire and the crack of the rifle and instant darkness 
follows. The pungent smoke of the powder hovers 
about the canoe, Avhile the report of the rifle awakens 
a _ hundred echoes against the fringes of the lake. 
Listening eagerly for the result of the shot, the hunters 
catch the sound of splashing as the deer makes his 
way unsteadily toward shore. They follow in the canoe, 
and before a landing is effected the noise ceases. The 
candle is relighted with the aid of flint and steel, and the 
search along the water's edge continues. The hunters 
find the deer with his forequarters upon .the bog and 
the remainder of his body in the water, from which the 
rifle ball has deprived him of the power to draw himself, 
and the knife- ends what the rifle has begun. Thus in 
blood .was the dugout christened. 
And many times in the years that succeeded was this 
scene re-enacted. Through several generations the old 
dugout was intimately associated with the lives of the 
pioneers of Sullivan a-nd Ulster county. The father took 
his son, and the son took his son out on Long Pond 
to watch for deer, or to fish for trout — or later for 
pickerel ; and as the hours passed in this remote and 
peaceful corner of the woods, traditions were related by 
parent to son, confidences were exchanged and the ties 
of kindred were strengthened. Their bones have long 
since mingled with the earth of the forest, whose secrets 
were open to them, and the old canoe, abandoned and 
neglected upon the shores of the little mountain pond, 
survives as the sole memorial of their primitive and 
hardy lives. J A y W. Dee. 
Indian Summer. 
All day the mountain tops exhale a ghost-like vapor, 
which clings gently just below their summits and catches 
UP the sun shafts into their midst, where the prismatic 
rays tinge the. whole - atmosphere, with color, diffusing 
a warm but quiet shade of purple over the spine of the 
entire mountain .range. Flashes of crimson and gold 
shoot_ out. from the dense green of the mountain pine, 
marking the rendezvous |of the maple and hickory and 
oak, while over all and between the masses of umbrage 
the vine spreads its brown leaves and purple festoons; 
now clinging to the birch like children cling in time of 
fear to the parent, anon looping down like the folds of 
some mighty python, rea.dy.-..to. entangle with deadly em- 
brace some haple.ss victim. Near-by, and in and out 
among the trees, springs the squirrel, the gray squirrel ; 
while down among the underbrush leaps the rabbit or 
roams the stealthy fox, intent upon the capture of the 
lordly grouse who congregate at this, of all times, to 
■feed- upon the mast or the purple grapes. The hawthorn 
which in early spring scented the atmosphere for miles 
around and lent enchantment 1o the moonlit eve, now 
spreads before the gaze a gaudy galaxy of berries, Avaxy 
and shiny and plump, conscious of their destiny — either 
to feed the aesthetic grouse or to fall and disappear, there 
to lie beneath the massive . sheets of snow until the re- 
awakened the rejuvenated earth bursts forth with 
melody from, the million throats. of songsters — till nature's 
spring song penetrates its casement, warming its heart to 
life with songs of joy and hope, and bursting from its 
bonds with very joy at living, it springs forth delicate and 
feathery, until by successive stages, each month lending 
some added grandeur, it stands erect on the mountain- 
side, a tender miniature of the parent tree. The massive 
oaks spreading their limbs in all directions, hoary and 
old, scatter their succulent product to the ground to raise 
their sturdy offspring, oi: hold with extended arms their 
store of tempting- acorns to the nimble squirrel. In and 
out, and up' and down wanders the jay, that noisy cox- 
comb of the forest aisles, screaming his senseless jargon 
to all who chance to listen; while high in air, in sable 
phalanx, clumsily sail the crows home to their roosting, 
cawing discordant orders- to their noisy host. Now do 
the robins congregate and bluebirds brimming o'er with 
love sail high in air, sprinkling their sad songs in liquid 
cadence, like the chime of the vesper dying out in the 
distance. 
Myriads of blackbirds float in the evening sky, in 
closely-ordered ranks, the modest brown of the subor- 
dinates constrasting strongly with the gaudy uniforms of 
their superiors, whose scarlet chevrons disclose a flaming 
mark to the hunstman's aim. Far o'er the cultivated 
fields and up from the sleepy valley echoes the homely 
note of the bell of the bell-cow, and far o'er the hills in 
multiple reverberations comes the stifled detonation of the 
sportsman's gun — the death-song of its fair victim. 
Thus fades the day, and night' draws on apace, the 
reddening sky losing in warmth and gaining in coolness, 
assumes a pale yellow shade, while at the horizon line 
streakings of gray and indigo appear. Now cease the 
birds their evening matin, homeward in serried columns 
are driven the cattle, and the night wind begins its melan- 
choly wail among the sedge. Slowly the lengthening line 
along the horizon ascends as over the eastern slope peeps 
the crescent moon, while over and above them all settles 
the frosty rime. Geo. W. Beatty. 
Trails of the Pathfinders.— XXL 
The • Commerce of the Prairies. 
. At the end of the sixteenth and during the seven- 
teenth century a line of Spanish settlements ran from 
Mexico northward along the Rocky Mountains, ter- 
minating 111 the important town of Taos. To the 
north, northeast, and northwest of this town were 
other settlements occupied by the Spaniards and their 
descendants, and the streams and geographical features 
of the country bore Spanish names — almost up to the 
headwaters of the. Rio Grande del Norte. North of the 
Arkansas there was a change of tongue, and the names 
were English, or often French, given later by American 
trappers, who had pushed westward, or by French 
Canadians and Creoles, who were early voyageurs over 
the plains. 
Though Taos was an important place, it did not 
equal, either in size or wealth, the town of Santa Fe. 
The first settlements of what is now New Mexico, 
were made about the end of the sixteenth century, and 
a colony was established on the Rio del Norte, in New 
Mexico. Agriculture was practiced, and mines were 
discovered and worked. But the Spanish, in their 
greed for precious metals, made slaves of the docile 
Indians, and forced them to labor in the mines, under 
circumstances of the greatest hardships and severity. 
Almost a hundred years later, in August, 1680, this ill 
treatment caused the insurrection of the Pueblos, which 
put an end to many a flourishing Spanish settlement, 
and, temporarily, to the country's development. For 
a time the Spaniards were driven out, but it was for a 
time only; a little later they returned, resubdued the 
country, and, by the close of the century were stronger 
than ever. Nevertheless, the Pueblo revolt was not 
without its good effect, and during the eighteenth cen- 
tury the Indians were far better treated than they had 
been, before. 
In the year 1806, Capt. Zebulon M. Pike crossed the 
plains, and reached the city of Santa Fe. His return 
told the inhabitants of what was then the further west 
of a country beyond the plains where there .were towns 
and people who would purchase goods brought to them. 
Previous to this, a merchant of Kaskaskia, named 
Morrison, had sent a French Creole named La 
Lande, up the Platte River, directing him to go to 
Santa Fe to trade; but La Lande, though he reached 
that city, never returned, nor accounted to his employer 
for the goods that were intrusted to him. James Pursley, 
an American, was perhaps the second man to cross 
these plains, and reach the Spanish settlements. When 
Capt. Pike returned, the news of these settlements, 
hitherto unknown, created a great interest throughout 
the slowly advancing frontier. 
Expeditions went out to Santa Fe in 1812, but the 
traders were suspected by the New Mexicans of being- 
spies, their goods were confiscated, and they them- 
selves imprisoned and detained for years, some of them 
returning to the United States in 1821. After this, 
other parties went out, and the trading which they did 
with the Spaniards was successful and profitable. More 
and more expeditions set forth, often manned by people 
who were entirely ignorant of the country through 
which they were to pass, and the hardships which they 
were to face; and they starved to death or died of thirst, 
or, at the very least, suffered terribly, and often were un- 
successful, but about 1822 the trade with Santa Fe 
became established. The distance from the American 
settlements across the plains to Santa Fe was hardly 
half that from Vera Cruz to Santa Fe, and there was 
great profit in the trade; but it was not without its 
dangers. Indians were constantly met with, and many 
of the traders did not understand how to treat them. 
Some traders were robbed; others, resisting harshly and 
sometimes killing a savage, were attacked, robbed of 
their animals, and occasionally lost a man. 
Among the interesting records of the plains of these 
early times is Josiah Gregg's "Commerce of the Prairies, 
or the Journal of a Santa Fe Trader, During Eight Ex- 
peditions Across the Great Western Prairies." Gregg- 
was an invalid, who made his first trip across the 
plains on the advice of his physician. The effect of 
his journey was to re-establish his health, and to beget 
in him a passion for prairie, life. He soon became in- 
terested, as a proprietor, in the Santa Fe trade, and for 
eight successive years continued to follow this business. 
The period covered by his volumes is from 1831 to 
1840, during which time the trade was at its height. 
The caravan, with which Gregg started, set out with 
near a hundred wagons, of which one half were hauled 
by oxen, and the remainder by mules. The very night 
that they left Council Grove their cattle stampeded, but 
being corraled within the circle of wagons; did' not 
escape. 
Having a. large _ company, it was natural that there 
should be among it a number of people who were con- 
stantly seeing dangers that did not exist. They had 
been out but a short time when, "Alarms now began to 
