Terms, Four Dollars a Year. 
Ten Cents a Copy. 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY, MARCH 21, 1878. 
Volume 10.— No. T. 
No. Ill Pulion St., N. Y. 
For ForrM and Stream and Itod and Gun. 
IN MEMORY OF A GOOD DOG. 
AT Y poor old dog has had his day— 
A And happy days we've had together. 
When woods with red and gold were gay, 
In the glorious autumn weather. 
When o’er the aftermath’s dark green 
Was wove the gossamer's silver sheen, 
And over all the blue sky bent; 
But now the woods are bare and gray, 
And all of autumn's glories spent, 
And my poor dog has had his day. 
My poor old dog has had his day— 
No happy days have we together, 
Since all the woods are bare and gray, 
And gone the pleasant autumn weather. 
His tuneful voice no echo wakes, 
The fox, no more his lair forsakes 
In fear of him who lies below 
The roar of Winter’s wild affray— 
In quiet sleep beneath the snow— 
My poor old dog has had his day. a. 
Jp£ ent in the Jf orth | pwfc. 
EDITED BY THE PB0FE3S0B AND LEATHER-STOCKING. 
“ And this our life, exempt rrom public haunt. 
Finds birds lu trees, trout In the running brooks, 
Deer ’mong the stones— and game in everything.” 
Aa Fou Lite II.— Cum Far. 
HTHIS being our first station in the Wilderness is a proper 
Punctum Saliens (Latin is good to begin with) for this, 
as yet, unopened record. 
We left Louisville, on the Black River Railroad, Aug. 28d, 
at 7 a. m. A light spring wagon carried our party of three, 
with two guides ; the impedimenta (Latin again) being stowed 
in canvas bags at our feet. The road is twenty miles to Fen- 
ton’s, where we dined. The first half is an open country — 
sandy, but good traveling ; the rest a narrow path in the 
woods. From Fenton’s the road is all in uncleared land, and 
is very rough for the horses. Ten miles, most of which we 
walked, brought us, at 6:30 p. m., to Wardwell’s. This, the 
last optpost of civilization, is a small log tavern, in a little 
clearing, with the primitive forest all around. A small lake 
spreads a clear mirror for the distant landscape of forest- 
crowned bills. We were hungry and tired, and after a hearty 
venison supper, crept to our lodgings in the loft and slept 
soundly. 
This morning we found two light boats awaiting us, in which 
we left at 9 a. m., making our adieux to civilization— such as 
it is — at this outpost and threshold of the great Northern 
Wilderness. This day’s work has been navigating up Beaver 
River, toward Albany Lake, our first destination. The stream 
is about two rods wide and very winding; the water of a 
dark forest stain. The immediate shores arc chiefly crowned 
with alder, illuminated here and there with patches of the 
burning lobelia cardinalis, whose reflections set the stream 
aglow. Tall pines and spruces look over the bushes along 
shore. There are no clearings and no signs of human life, but 
the occasional hunters' camps. Deer tracks are frequent on 
the shores, with slides of otter. After passing the South 
Branch Inlet, the stream becomes narrow and difficult with 
snags. At 5 p. m., landed and raised our tent near an old bark 
shanty, which seems to have been unused this year. We are 
fortunate to-day in the absence of the dreaded insect annoy- 
ances. 
The situation of our camp is picturesque and really beauti- 
ful. The bank rises abruptly some ten feet from the stream 
to a level- table, planted closely with spruce and balsam, almost 
as thiok as they can stand, and to the exclusion of nearly 
every other tree. From the dense gloom below, these spiry- 
topped foresters have stretched upward with longing aspira- 
tions toward the light, emulating each other in the towering 
altitude to whioh they could attain. Dense undergrowth 
covers the mossy soil, except for an area of a rod or two, where 
it has been cleared by our predecessors, who erected their 
hunters’ home. 
XThis home, of the stereotype form, merits a brief descrip- 
tion. Ex uno diece omnes (the Latin is irrepressible). A hori- 
zontal pole, about eight feet loDg, is supported by crotched 
uprights some six feet from the ground. Against this poles 
lean at an. angle of about 45 degrees, with occasional cross- 
pieces; the cover is made of sheets of spruce bark, with th 
smooth side below. To obtain this bark the hunter selects 
full grown spruce in good condition, >ud cuts a circle close to 
the roots, and another as high up as he can reach. A vertical 
cut then enables him to develop from the trunk a sheet of 
bark nearly six feet square, flat and water-tight ; a few of 
these construct a roof perfect against the weather. The sides 
of the mansion are either of similar pieces or else of brush. 
The fire being built in front, the heat is reflected downward 
by the polished inner surface of the bark upon the sleepers 
below, who, on their beds of boughs, with their feet toward 
the glowing embers, take such rest as the punkies and other 
rightful owners of the soil allow. When the camp is an elabo- 
rate one, a dinner table is a necessary adjunct ; this is com- 
posed of a single sheet ot bark, supported on short poles nnd 
crotched sticks, with comfortable log seats, and moss cushions 
if you are luxurious. 
We pitched our tent hard by the shanty, and the men in a 
few miuutcs cut us a large bundle of rank grass from the 
river's edge for a bed. Rubber sheets and blankets perfected 
the accoutrements for the night’s repose. Pillows are not on 
the hunter's list of necessaries, but a taste foe luxuries added 
some small empty bags to our kit. Filling these with moss 
and ferns they lay with a most inviting plumpness at the head 
of the tent. The success of the experiment was proved by the 
utterance of a thrice repeated “Bully!” as each tired head 
sank to its soft repose. 
It is time to introduce into this faithful record the members 
composing the party. First in the order of seniority cornea 
the Professor. The Professor, now iu the middle of his fifth 
decade, is a hearty lover of nature, but, it must be confessed 
with sadness, can neither hunt nor fish, and has never been iu 
the bush before. He takes everything os it comes with un- 
rufHed good nature, and is always ready to do more than his 
share of the work. A great traveler, a keen observer, an ex- 
cellent authority on things scientific, he is a most valuable ac- 
quisition to the expedition, and is frequently called upon to 
pronounce on some form of animal or vegetable life. His 
common attire is a suit of blue flannel, with a slouched hat, 
and he goes armed with a pocket magnifying glass ready for 
instant use. He is a bachelor, and as shy of womankind as 
old Mr. Weller himself, and, like old Weller, attracts the fair 
fair sex nolens volens. The little divinity in petticoats, 
who presides over Wardwell’s table, lost her heart to him, 
and gazed disconsolately down the river as the unconscious 
Professor was borne away on its swift flowing current, serene- 
ly munching a plum-cake made expressly for him bv her own 
fair hand9. 
Leather-stocking stalks next into the picture, our special 
artist, and joker iu ordiuary to the expedition. His common 
atlire is a pair of moccasins which he got among the Indians, 
a fez cap which he brought from Egypt, a pea-jacket which 
he wore in his voyage to Greenland, and leather breeches with 
scalp trimmings, which he traded for amoDg the trappers of 
Oregon. A repeating rifle, a heavy army revolver, Arkansas 
tooth-pick, a pocket lx>x of carpenters’ tools and a trout rod 
complete his toilet, without which, in perfect order and 
polished to perfection, he never ventures abroad. 
Venator, though last mentioned, begs not to be considered 
the least of his honorable company. Blessed with a fine 
physique, a quick eye and legs of cast-iron, he is devoted to 
the sports of field aud flood. Many are the trout he brings to 
our table, and many are the pan-cakes he takes from it. Be- 
hold him attired in a suit of bramble-proof corduroy, and a 
pair of huge wading-boots, while a hole cut through his 
slouched hat for purposes of ventilation, allows a loDg lock 
of hair to wave defiantly in the breeze. 
It remains to speak only of the guides, the brothers Sylves- 
ter and Orlin. Born in the depths of the forest primeval, 
they revel in the woods, aud pine iu the clearings ; nothing iu 
the circle of polished society has for them half the attractions 
that are furnished in their intimate association with black 
flies and mosquitoes. The song of the latter is music to their 
soul, and the smoke of a smudge is as the breath of Araby. 
Rowing, cooking, wading, shooting, long tramps with lodgings 
on the cold ground, all such employments are alike to them, 
provided there is hardship in them and the -flavor of the wil- 
derness. It is a happy facility that can make a home of a 
desert, and find comfort and sweet companionship where wild 
beasts most do congregate. 
VVe remained at our camp on the following day, some of 
the party exploring up stream to the rapids, some four 
miles. Broke camp on the 2Gth. We left this picturesque 
little temporary residence with regret, for it had become quite 
homelike. The evenings around the fire were lovely. The 
heat of the day abuted as twilight came on, changing to actual 
chilliness at a later hour, making the forest iuglesule attractive. 
The firelight illuminating a little circle of the dense foliage, a 
young moon struggling through the fsps of the trees, the spicy 
odor of the balsams and spruce, the absolute silence, broken 
only by the faint ripple of the 6tream, the occasional hoot of 
an owl and the distant howling of a wolf, united to form a 
scene not to be described and appreciable only by the enthusi- 
astic lover of woodland life. 
We found the stream snaggy and difficult. The guides 
were half the time in the water pulling the boats over some 
obstinate root or fallen tree. There is hereabouts no good 
“ floating ground ” for deer ; the best we have seen is a long 
reach of still water below the South Branch, a few miles down 
from our camp. The signs of deer, however, aro numerous ; 
sometimes we come to one of their runways, and very* fre- 
quently see their fresh tracks in the mud along shore, where 
they come down to drink or to feed upon the water plants. 
At the “Little Rapids” we made our first “carry." The 
stream here has considerable descent over a thick bed of gran- 
ite boulders, but with no rock in situ. Loudol boats are 
dragged down among the stones, but in going up stream 
everything must be carried over the path about a quarter of a 
milo. Our kit is packed iu several large bags with shoulder 
straps. The boats themselves walk over the truck inverted on 
the sturdy shoulders of the guides, who are armed with a 
wooden yoke shaped for the purpose. The whole transfer is 
rapidly effected. 
We re-embarked, and after a couple of miles came to 
what they call u “ draw." This is another rapid through 
boulders, which, however, admit the loaded boats to be hauled 
upward. The passengers walked arouud a path iu the thick 
woods three quarters of a mile, in rubber coats, a rain having 
set in. Our lower extremities, of course, got well saturated 
from the reeking bushes, but the poor guides got a thorough 
soaking, having to wade the whole distance. The weather 
had now changed, aud a flno drizzling rain pursued us for the 
rest of the day. 
The stream now expanded wiih marshy shores. Some 
ducks were seen, but kept out of shot; even Leather-stocking, 
with his double-patent duplex, back aciion— none genuiuo 
without signatures of patculee— arsenal of weapons, was un- 
able to touch them with a ball. Venator was more lucky with 
his trout rod, and fished up a mess of speckled beauties from 
among the lily pads. Thu Professor smiled approvingly as 
he paddled at the stern. 
The shores continued to recede on either hand, leaving a 
marshy lake, with narrow winding channels of open water be- 
tween fields of reeds and lovely white water lilies. The Pro- 
fessor, ever ready with his learning, told us that these were 
called Nymphea odorata, which we were very glad to know, 
as we would not have suspected it. 
Albany Lake unfolds gradually from its marshy entrance. 
There are some distant views of ridges, clothed with ever- 
greens, and granite ledges show in some places along shore. 
Woody points project on right and left, narrowing the lake to 
an eighth or a quarter of a mile, with intervening basins of 
nearly a mile in width. 'I bis wild sheet of water is very in- 
correctly laid down upon the maps (1871). It is very much 
larger than there represented. WO shall become better ac- 
quainted with it bye-and-by. 
It was a good long pull up the lake against an easterly wind 
before we cnine to the camping pluee. A sand beach and a 
little notch iu the line of forest directed us to the place. Wo 
found a large aud well constructed shanty of spruce bark, 
opening inward, away from the lake winds. It has the 
unusual luxury of two apartments— one for the tuble anl 
cuisine, and one for sleeping — each, of course, has but three 
close sides, the other being open toward the lire. The bark 
roof was badly warped aud split and very leaky, and the 
dining-room speedily proved uninhabitable in the heavy shower 
which came rattling down as soon as we landed. We riianaged 
to eat our supper on the ground, avoiding the wet spots, and 
then made our lodgings sufflcien'ly dry by patchiug the roof 
with bark, and tacking up an india-rubber sheet. The camp- 
ground being on a slope, brought down the water in streams 
through the shanty, and we had to cut channels to save our- 
selves from a flooding. To add to the discomforts, the smoke 
filled the cabin, and nearly drove us out. We wept over our 
situation abundantly, but never would desert the shanty. 
The men went out in the rain to float, or at least to explore 
for floating, but the wind caused a heavy sea aud drove them 
home. By midnight we were all settled to the labor of sleep- 
ing on our anything but downy couches, soothed by the mo- 
notonous palter of the rain on the thin shields of bark that 
interposed between us aud the storm. Suddenly the sleepers 
were aroused by a piercing cry: “Get up! the rivor is on 
us! It is pouring through the shanty two feet deep!’’. We 
started up in alarm; Leather-stocking was seen ou his feet 
gesticulating wildly; he raved incoherently. A moment 
more revealed the fact that he was sound asleep. His fright- 
ful torrent was a vision of the night. Veoalor thought it was 
not wholly unconnected with pancakes. 
The morning broke, but brought no relief to the well- 
soaked adventurers. A deep ditch of muddy watec encircled 
the fire, aud a mountain torrent rushed madly through the 
two sections of the shanty. After a hurried breakfast, we all 
took a hand in patchiug the rcof of the camp. Small holes 
were plugged with sticks, larger ones were covccpd with bark, 
while sunken spots were propped up and bark gutters made 
for irremediably leaky apertures. The result was tolerably 
satisfactory. The space iu front of the tire, where we had 
found a rough bench already constructed, hut useless on ac- 
count of the storm, was reclaimed for its proper purposes. 
The half of the shanty, where the table aud cuisine were sit- 
uated, wus restored to its first uses, and we were at last able 
to sit or move arouud without plumping down into a puddle 
of water, or getting a stream in the eye on casually looking 
Ur When the situation cleared, Venator bethought himself of 
his boots, which, from being once high aud mighty, were be- 
come, through exceeding dampness, limp nnd unsatisfactory. 
If he' tried to get into them wet a3 they were, he was sure to 
stick bulf way ; and he knew by past experience that, if he 
did succeed in entering their cavernous depths, and wished 
once more to bring his feet to the light of day, that the 
strength of all the men in camp could hardly draw him forth 
from their too friendly embraces. The Professor, on being 
consulted, suggested that large fires should bo built at differ- 
ent points adown the yawnmg abyss of the legs. Leather- 
