FOREST AND STREAM 
181 
lake, where we had caught so many large trout the even- 
ing before, but the fish would not rise to our flies. They 
could be seen deep down under the boats, and the surface 
of a small lakelet below and the water around us were 
broken with the constant splash of the fish as they jumped 
in play or in search of food. It was a remarkable sight. 
Many fish could be seen leaping from the water at once, 
and although we labored diligently, throwing our flies in 
every direction, exactly over the fish where they rose to the 
surface, or disappeared after their leaps, frequently changed 
our flies till our stock was exhausted, and flnulfy coming 
down to bait, worms and pieces of meat, but few fish re- 
warded us; yet the water was teamiug with them. Now 
the mosquitos, black flies and deer flies begau to grow very 
annoying, and disheartened at the prospect, we slowly 
paddled back to camp, where we theorized about the sin- 
gular behavior of the trout in refusing to be caught. The 
thunder during the night accounts for it, or the quantity of 
natural food, the bad selection or quality of our flies. A 
guide said we were too late for Spring fishing and too early 
lor the Summer run of trout; and Drake ventured the 
suggestion that the “trout” we had seen leaping from the 
water might be suckers, but we would not admit this theory 
anyway. He told us of a creek which flowed into the lake 
four or five miles distant, where he knew the trout could 
be taken. They were always plenty there and of immense 
size compared to any we hud yet seen. I immediately ac- 
cepted his offer to guide us, and entering a canoe we 
started, and after paddling an hour or more we arrived at 
the place. Arranging tackles he directed me where to east 
my flies among the lily pads, but not a single rise en- 
couraged me. Wo paddled up the creek and carefully 
piked its sluggish water without success, till discouraged 
and nearly devoured by black flies, we turned homewards. 
As we descended the stream a man hailed us from the 
bank. He was engaged in fishing for chubs or perch, and 
was evidently surprised to see a stranger there. As he 
rose up, I observed that lie was past the prime of life; tall 
and handsome, his short grey moustache and military bear- 
ing indicated the soldier, and his courteous manner a gen- 
tleman. He made some remarks about the weather, apoli- 
gized for the poor fishing, and then enquired where I came 
irom, and about the company at our camp; and also gave 
some advice about the manufacture and selection of trout 
flies. It was growing late, we invited him to visit camp 
and said good evening. When we were out of his hearing, 
Drake told me that the man had been a British otficer of 
high rank. “There is his shanty,” and lie pointed to a hut 
on the shore, “in which he lives with no companion but a 
dog. He knows no more about a trout fly than a child. 
He catches a few perch now and then, and succeeds in 
killing some pine squirrels with his shot gun. He has n 
canoe which I made him out of a log, staunch aud broad, 
but he cannot learn to manage it. One day while taking a 
lesson in if, he was actually blown helplessly from the 
very door of his hut, clear across the lake, and might have 
perished had not Mrs. Drake accidently seen him and 
sent me to his rescuo. Twice a year he makes a long 
journey to Braeebridge, where he draws a pension and pur- 
chases provisions. His son and daughter followed him at 
one lime to his hermitage and tried to induce him to return 
to their home with him in New York, but they were com- 
pelled to leave him in this Jonely place.” I was much im- 
pressed with what Drake told me, and wondered what ro- 
mance or misfortune had driven such a man into this wil- 
derness to die perhaps alone and uncared for. 
On our arriving at camp I observed a new comer, and 
recognized Capt. H., of the English army, a friend of the 
“Barristers," and a gentleman whom I laid met at home a 
fortnight previous, lie was returning towards the East, 
when we sighted the church steeple in Braccbridgc 
* n * few . m ' nul *s were at the hotel again, donned 
some flannel underclothes, which the village store supplied 
borrowed dry pants from the landlord and sat down to a 
good supper. \\ e had hardly finished eating and recount- 
ing our adventures when a stamping in the bar room an- 
nounced new arrivals, and to our amazement Louis and 
the Barrister presented themselves, saying Uncle Alec ami 
the Captain were not far behind. After we left them they 
declared that all the mosquitoes in the Canadas settled 
down on them. The thought of our escape from the tor- 
tures they were enduring, aud the certainty that we would 
have a good night’s rest, were too much for them. A 
council of war was held, and committing everything into 
the hands of the guides, with instructions to follow as fast 
as they could, they "broke” for the settlements, and here 
they Were, half dead, their faces, necks and hands covered 
with blood and their eyes nearly closed. They hud 
adopted no kind of protection, but rushed frantically for- 
ward and were fairly driven out of the woods. Poor (incle 
Alec was at once put to bed in an almost delirious condi- 
tion. He could not eat unything, and could hardly swal- 
low a glass of hot whisky, which the following day he de- 
clared was the means of saving his life. This was practi- 
cally the closing scene of our Canadian expedition and I 
conclude by quoting from a letter written by Unde Alee: 
“We caught some fine fish, not very many, hut the suf- 
ferings we endured from the black flies, deer flies, black 
gnats and mosquitoes were almost intolerable. We wore 
forced to abandon our encampment aud get away. It broke 
me down completely. I would not again go through what 
I have in the licst two weeks for ten thousand dollars." 
This was written by an old fisherman who had seen mos- 
quitoes and black flies beforo, hut he hud never been to tho 
back woods of Canada. n 
?lnmTi’l,T u * weal y m11 * but nothing availed to 
ni v,\ Impose, so flacking up our duds we oeremo- 
hom* w h^rI r lS l >e - "«'}*" " ntl s,ar,cd for 11,0 fanner's 
hv miV J WT,VW *I“ duo time to surprise our host 
first hi„ U ^ D « rcl j ru 1 - 1 ,ot the youngsters tell the story 
SfiS Incredulous ears, until coiroborated by me; 
NOTES ON 
For Fowl ami Stream. 
TAXIDERMY. 
BY JOSKI-K n. DA TTY. 
* I ''HERE is scarcely a week passes but what I receive 
tnv mvTbiTlre C rr b }’ in 11 «® r " 1 i»utrld state, which 
“7 ttbi ! JJy a taxidermist to mount. Now, any ner- 
- d thl * P"P‘‘ r OI » preparing specimens, and 
nmi can P re Pare animals or birds in a few 
A PANTHER 
For Fort st and Stream. 
SERENADE. 
having made the tour of the Slates, and en route through 
Canada from Chicago had arrived at Toronto, where he 
learned that the Barrister with a party of Americans 
had gone into the woods on a trouting expedition. He 
determined to follow. At Bracebridgo lie engaged a 
guide to pilot him to our camp. After reaching the river 
tlie fellow demanded payment for the services, and csolly 
abandoned him in the woods, burdened With a heavy port- 
manteau, telling him the camp was only a short way up 
stream at the head of the portage. The Captain endeavored 
to follow the path and very soon wandered from the trail 
and lost himself. When lie realized the fact he shouted 
and yelled until lie was bourse, but there was no respouse 
to his cries, lie then fired his revolver, and to his infinite 
delight heard a shot in reply, and before many minutes a 
man came in sight. Imagine the settler’s astonishment at 
seeing a real cockney Englishman, dressed in the inevitable 
checked suit, with mutton-chop whiskers and eye-glasses. 
But bis astonishment did not equal our Captain’s joy" 
as he fervently thanked God for his rescue. The settler 
had heard his revolver shots, and thought a huuter had 
encountered a bear aud hurried to his assistance. lie 
heard the Captain’s story, cursed tho wretch who had so 
heartlessly left him in the woods, aud invited him to his 
shanty to rest that night, and promised the next day to 
bring him to the camp. He felt like a hero, and through- 
out the rest of the expedition enlivened the camp with 
jokes and songs and comical impressions of the people lie 
hud seen in the States. He had never caught a trout and 
was very desirous of getting a big oue, “just to tell the 
fellows about at home, you know." We supplied him 
with a rod and line, gave him instructions and oilier assis- 
tance, though he wearied himself iu fruitless attempts to 
beguile a single trout from the water. He did succeed in 
getting a large one on his hook, but got excited and let it 
break away. As a faithful historian I cannot say that lie 
caught a trout, but out of kindness will admit* that the 
Captaiu landed one or two from a canoe. 
Sunday found us still in camp. That night the mos- 
quitos in countless millions settled down on us, aud us 
soon as morning broke it was determined to “get out of 
the wilderness.” John H, and myself were detailed to 
walk to Bracebridgo, aud immediately send wagons to the 
river for the rest of the parly and the baggage. After 
breakfast we started. As we entered the woods it began 
to rain, the atmosphere which was oppressively close, grew 
more sultry and the flics and punkies surrounded with a 
fluttering, buzzing halo of little fiends. We wore linen 
helmets which covered our faces and necks, but becoming 
wet, they clung to us, and through them the little pests 
drilled und brought the blood at every attack. At noon 
we came to a clearing where we ate our lunches, aud were 
supplied with a couple of cups of milk by t.ie settler's 
wife, whose woman’s sympathy was uroused, for she cer- 
tainly never saw two more forlorn looking individuals in 
her life. Late iu the afternoon the path opened, the clear- 
ings became more frequent, but it was nearly dark 
T HEBE were four— A. V. F., F. S., and W. F., from 
the Bunker Hill ward, and your humble servant of 
the backwoods, acting as guide— bound for a week’s sport 
whipping tlie trout brooks in the wilderness of Vermont. 
A day’s ride from the "Hub” was the end of travel by pub- 
lic conveyance. A night’s rest, and a part of another day’s 
travel by buckboard stage, and the farmhouse was reached 
where a stop was to be made overnight and supplies pro- 
cured. Early next morning, with light hearts and heavy 
pucks, we started for a point six miles distant. The intense 
heat of an August sun poured down upon our devoted 
heads, causing the boys to wilt like the new mown grass. 
Our course was by a blind path in the forest, sometimes 
used by the backwoodsmen in going to a distant settle- 
ment. 
Between the first named trio was borne, alternately, a 
small, rusty shot gun, and eucli in turn would boast the 
prowess lie would display should a bear or other fierce ani- 
mal stand in tlie way. ’Their courage was not put to the 
test, however, though signs of bruin were frequently seen. 
Several grouse and rabbits did get up temptingly before 
the gun, but the only execution done seemed at tlie breech. 
Once a halt was made for luncheon, after which, with 
lighted pipes, we pursued our way. By mid-afternoon we 
arrived at a good camping place, near a fine trout brook 
that I was familiar with. The honor of constructing the 
camp fell to me, and in a brief time, aided by tlie others, a 
bark covered camp was erected, tlie broadside being left 
open, and the floor covered with soft boughs for the couch. 
Near by was a large dead spruce tree, at the base of which 
a fire was built, and while the others were securing dry 
wood for the night I visited the brook to obtain trout for 
supper. The stream was alive with tlie real Sulmo fontt- 
juilis, und in half ail hour’s time I returned with an abund- 
ance. I tumbled to the position of “chief cook and bottle 
washer," and in due time we were sitting around a table 
formed by a huge slice of spruce burk, on which the rneul 
was laid. The variety of dishes was not lurge, hut that 
was made up in quality and quantity. First was the inevi- 
table salt pork, at which, in the city, we turn up our duinty 
nose, but in the woods think the sweetest tit bit; a pile of 
well browned trout; ditto of potatoes; bread, both white 
and brown, and pickles for a relish. The repast was fin- 
ished, and pipes lighted as the shades of night appeared. 
A couple of hours at euchre and chatting, u piling on of 
more wood, in which all bore a part, u “nightcap,” aud 
then to tlie sweet and fragrant couch. A. had taken tlie 
precaution to drop a ball into the gun and place it beside 
him, in case, as lie remarked, “a bear should come around." 
My position was on the windward side, and as the nights 
even then were growing cool on tlie mountains it was sev- 
eral hours ere I got to sleep. How long I hud slept I know 
not, but while I was casting my line in dreamland I was 
rudely clasped by F. and aroused with the exclamation, 
“For the love of God, Uncle R., what is that noise." I 
had slept so sound, and withal being partially deaf, had 
heurd nothing. Listening for a moment, and still hearing 
nothing, I ventured the remark that perhaps it was an owl. 
I had scarcely ceased speaking when the woods rung with 
the terrific screech of a panther within a stone’s throw of 
camp, which was repeated at intervals of several minutes. 
Each of the young men clung to and begged me beseech- 
ingly to take the gun and go and shoot the animal. I took 
the gun iu baud to reassure them, and though I saw the 
creature’s glaring eyes once in a tree top less than fifty feet 
distant, remembered I hadn't any orders f or panther skins, 
und didn’t want any on my hands in warm weather to spoil. 
I went to replenish the lire, which had burned low, the 
others following. Soon a bright light lit up the scene, and 
soon after the monster tree fell, jarring tlie earth around 
and sending up myriads of sparks to light the reverberat- 
ing echoes. We heard the panther after that only twice, 
and then faintly, near the summit of the mountain. But 
sleep visited that cuinp no more, and the rest of tlie night 
was passed with (lie pasteboards. As morning dawned, I 
repaired again to the brook and obtained another supply of 
trout for breakfast, which meal was a repetition of tlie one 
previous, our uppclilcs augmented, notwithstanding the 
scare. 
After breakfast was discussed we lighted our briarwoods 
and started for the beaver meadows, a mile distant. Here 
we soon filled our baskets and started for camp, having 
trout enough to last us that day. As we neared camp cir 
tain ominous looks culminated in the declaration, “We 
wou't slay here in the woods another night for all the 
world.” In vain I assured them that there was no danger, 
that the panther we heard was a roamer, and even then, 
tux 
son 
follow 
and U reach°tl hU . 1 ni . a y' b w'»hipped across tii "continent 
norL.ni l , h ,J > nxUk ‘ r miKt in u mountable condition. Somo 
persons state that pure arsenic will preserve animal skins 
during hot weather, and that no other preservative is need- 
ed to keep a pelt in good condition. Now, closet taxider- 
mists who make such assertions evidently haw not "trav- 
eled and collected in all climates and lit all seasons I 
nave dried large mammal skins on tho plains iu Summer 
unit in the woods in Winter, without any preservative* 
whatever, aud found them to be in tine condition when put 
into pick e previous to mounting them; but at certain sea- 
sons of the year, in some localities, arsenic alone will uot 
preserve a pelt so the hair will not part from the skin when 
it is soaked soft and pliable, so that it can bo cleaned and 
mounted, individuals who may think differently on this 
subject have hut to experiment a little on largo animals to 
satisfy themselves that something more tliun arsenic or ar- 
senical soap is essential tu their preservation. Birds cun 
be preserved for a few days miring hot weather as follows: 
it a large bird is killed, fir ,i swao out the blood from the 
throat ii m-' issarv, a;.J distribute powdered uluru and salt- 
petre (one purl saltpetre, six p> rt* Jum) the entire length of 
the throat, and push some of it Into tb crop with a stick; 
ruba little of the preservative into aud uround the . vpk oxior- 
ua ly ; draw tht? entrails from the specimen through a small 
hole, mude lougitudina.ly mre the vuiit, and prime ihu in- 
side of the bird with the powdei ; put a small ploro of cot- 
ton down the lbro.it, and cram the nostrils full of the same 
material, to prevent the -aliva iu<d blood from coming out 
on tlie plumage. Carbolic acid is also a good disinfectant 
and preservative. Take a small bottle of water and put a 
teaspoonful of acid in it, and upply the mixture to the most 
perishable parts of a specimen in the same manner on di- 
rected to use the salt pel re unit alum. Pieces of cotton or 
tow, wet with the acid and water, should he placed in tho 
vent und throat of tbo bird. Should olio wish to keep any 
hard feathered birds, such us loons, glebes, auks, gullle- 
mots, gulls, ducks, etc., for u long period, they should be 
drawn und thrown into a picklo of saltpetre and alum, and 
any good taxidermist can mount und clcun them when de- 
sired. Some sportsmen think it impossible to preserve 
skins of deer or buck’s heads for nny length of lime when 
camped in tlie forest, yet It can be "done with Imt liitlo 
trouble, und when their cumping days are over they can 
have the hard earned trophic-, of t ho ebase substantially 
mounted to ornament their homes, uud luku pleasure iu re- 
lating their history. 
To preserve a buck's head, make n cut across the head 
from the middle of one horn across the skull to the middle 
of the other antler; limn make a cut Irom the middle of 
tlie incision made down the back of the ueck to the shoul- 
ders; cut the skin uround and a little lielow the neck until 
it is free from the fore shoulders, and continue to skin tlie 
neck up to the base of the antlers; cut tho skin carefully 
away from around the horns, and skin down over tho muz- 
zle; skin the ears part wuy down, trim uwny the flesh from 
the skill, and rub tlie whole fleshy sido of it with the pow- 
dered alum and saltpetre, and if no other preservative is ut 
hand use salt. Turn the fleshy side of the pell to the open 
air. aud dry as soon as possible. The skin will shrivel up 
to tho dimensions of an old boot leg, which it resembles 
in shape, but nevertheless it will he in good coudition. 
Chop away the part of tlie skull to which tho horns are at- 
tached, enlarge the hole in tho occipital bone, remove tho 
brains, dust what rcmulns of the skull with any preserva- 
tive, and hung the horns iu a convenient crotch of a trie 
until the camp is deserted. I have had deer skins in picklo 
for two years, und found them in good condition ut tbo ex- 
piration of that time. 
Never cut a deer skin down tho front of the neck unless 
you want an ugly looking seam lo mar the beauty of a 
bead. Should a deer be wounded or killed it Is uot neces- 
sary to cut bis bead nearly off to bleed him, and if a deer 
is shot through the lungs or neur the heart it docs not need 
bleeding, us tlie blood will settle in the thorax aud can 
easily be turned out when the nnimal is dressed. Wlmt 
looks worse than a deer with its head cut nearly off and its 
coat covered with blood, which will become half putrid in 
a few days in mild weather unless it is washed oft from 
the huir when fresh? Never wash out a deei after dress- 
ing it unless you are desirous of spoiling your venison. 
When saving saddles, let them cool and stiffen uefore fold- 
ing the skin over them. I cun stick a buffalo with a four 
inch bladed pocket knife and let all the blood out of him 
tliut is necessary. So do uot mangle your game und spoil 
{ 'our skins uud meat by slashing unimuls to pieces with a 
luge butcher knife. 
By making use of the above notes sportsmen and collec- 
tors can save themselves the laborious work ol packing a 
heavy buck’s head or ani^iul from camp to camp, and the 
prepared skins will mount better than a hall putrid head 
or pelt with loose huir. The modest (?) taxidermist will 
then be spared the mortification of telling his diatoms-* 
that their specimens were a little too far gone to mount 
well when lie received them. 
—A genius recently altered an old Belgian musket Into a 
fowling piece, and went out to slay u tew fowls with it. 
Tlie first time he fired it it jumped out of his hands, 
knocked him down, chased him across a thirty acre field, 
climbed through the fence after him, and kicked him, an I 
jumped up uud down on him, and the man only saved bis 
life by climbing a big tree, while the gun waited on Lour 
at the foot of the tree for him to come down. 
