1876 - 
67 
TWO WEEKS IX THE ADIROXDAtKS. 
BY BAR LOCK. 
What better occupation, for a cold winter erening, 
after the regular duties of the day are laid aside, fin- 
ished as far as possible — I say possible, for be it known 
I am a country doctor, and never know when my day’s 
work is done — to recount some of the incidents con- 
nected with my vacation last autumn. And just here 
I would say I am writing no fancy sketch, but actual 
occurrences which took place during the time above 
mentioned. 
Firstly, the names of our party, of which a respected 
mother-in-law stands at the head; a gentleman friend, 
whom we will call Hank; the reader’s humble servant 
and wife. Outfit— two good breech-loading shot guns, 
plenty of ammunition, two fly rods, two bait rods, reels, 
lines, flies, army blankets, and one change of clothing 
each, head nets, and long-wristed gloves, for protection 
against flies and mosquitoes, a bottle of ammonia, in 
case one of the little musicians should find a vulnera- 
ble place in our armor and leave their “polka dot,” (the 
ladies will know what that is). We had written to our 
guide to have a shanty built for us before our arrival, 
so with blood at fever heat through expectation, we left 
C at 8 o’clock, a. m., August 24, 1874; arrived at 
Syracuse in time for the 12:45 train on the S. N. R. R. , 
made all connections, and found ourselves on the V. C. 
R. R. at 1 :20 the next morning, procured lodging at 
a small but comfortable hotel, and at daylight we were 
up trying to make a bargain with mine host to take his 
team and carry us to our destination, Chazy Lake. After 
arranging things to his satisfaction, we started, calcu- 
lating to get our guide on the way, as we were to pass 
his house. How can I ever describe that ride through 
the woods? It would have been just glorious only for 
two circumstances. The first was, our host had asked 
us that morning “what we intended to do at Chazy?” 
We answered; “catch trout and shoot deer, of course.” 
“Well, of course you will do nothing of the kind, for 
fishing and hunting are about played out there, and if 
you see a deer track and catch trout enough for a good 
mess, you will do well.” I tell yiu, brothers, that was 
a wet blanket on our ardor. The other drawback to 
our enjoyment was the corduroy road, a name that ex- 
plains itself to any one who has experienced the bless- 
ings of a ride on one, and to those who have not, noth- 
ing I could say would give them anything of an ade- 
quate idea of its pleasures as a thoroughfare. 
I forgot to say we had to drive the team ourselves, 
and our friend, the landlord, was to follow us directly, 
with the main portion of our baggage, and also to take 
back the team. Found our guide expecting us and 
ready for a move. He had provided blankets, dishes, 
candles, soap, pork, tea, coffee, flour, meal, etc., 
enough to last us a week or more, and said that if we 
wished any additions to our stock, we could get them 
on short notice. It being only about four miles to the 
Lake, guide said he would not ride but take a short cut 
across and be there as soon as we. I soon found out 
why he was so generous to the horses, for before we 
arrived at our destination I felt like the Dutchman 
while submitting to a compulsory journey on a fence 
rail — who turned to his bearers and said, “Poys, if it 
was not for te name of riden, I would shust as soon go 
a foot.” But time and patience overcomes all things, 
so our journey to Chazy came to an end. 'When we 
arrived in sight of the sportsman’s lodge, and ihe beau- 
tiful lake, we were doubly repaid for all our troubles 
thus far, corduroy thrown in. Our guide was a 
Frenchman who was born and reared neai this lovely 
sheet of water, and is considered the best companion 
for a party that can be obtained in that region, I can 
say truly nobody but Ben for me. 
Our camp was situated about two mites up the lake 
from where we arrived w'ith the team, and as the boatj 
were all ready, we waited anxiously for our baggage to 
come. After looking the giound all over where we 
were, and wishing and surmising about our tardy 
friend, we chanced to look across the lake and saw a 
small boat shoot out from shore; we watched it anx- 
iously until finally Ben said, it is Mr. C. and his guide, 
he is one of the best fishermen that comes to this lake 
We were eager to know of his success. Nearer and 
nearer came the boat, soon the heel grates on the sandy 
shore; a gentlemanly looking fellow jumps out fly rod 
in hand, and his guide bands him a splendid string of 
trout. It was more than my strained nerves could 
bear, and I said to Ben, “Is there not someway we can 
manage to get a little sport this evening ?” “Yes,” says 
Btn, “if your friend will consent to wait for the rest 
of your things and then when they arrive, bring them 
with the ladies up to camp. We will take what you 
have here, go to the shanty and then t ave half an hour’s 
sun and the twilight to try our luck.” Hank agreed. 
Mother and wife were inclined to demur at being left be- 
hind. However, we started, everything worked well, we 
soon reached the place where we were to stay and found 
every needed convenience for camp life. I was very 
anxious to be at the sport and we were soon on the way 
to the inlet where Ben thought we would be apt to have 
a little fun. I adjusted the joints of my pole, attached 
my flies and made a few preliminary casts as we glided 
along. It was almost a complete calm, and when Ben 
had his boat anchored to suit him he said: “Now 
throw about twice the length of your rod toward that 
old spruce treetop you see projecting out on the water.” 
I obeyed, cast after cast was made, and no response, 
Ben says: “Something wrong! guess some of those fel- 
lows at the hotel have been up here, slashing around, 
with their whisky and fly poles, they never get any 
fish, and I should think they would get sick of it after 
a while. Sh! look there — did you see that fellow rise?” 
I saw, and soon sent an “invitation to dine” within the 
circle on the still water where he had made his demon- 
stration, he accepted it with a rush; a snap, and “ I’ve 
got him, Ben!” “ No you have not, and what is more, 
if you are not careful, you never will.” I knew he was 
right and acted accordingly. Soon the struggle ceased 
and slipping the landing net under him had the satis- 
faction of viewing my first trout from Chazy. The 
sport continued until I had thirteen of the speckled 
beauties in the boat, weighing from four to eight 
ounces each. I was well satisfied with my luck so fai, 
and as it was getting dark fast, we hurried away to 
camp. Nothing to eat since dinner, and not much 
then, had made the inner man crave compensation for 
having been put off so long. 'When we got to the 
shanty we found nobody; and what to do we did not 
know. Finally we built a fire and Ben concluded to go 
in search of the tardy ones. He had not gone far when 
the sound of oars told the good news of their quick ap- 
proach . Hank had begun to feel as if he was in a bad 
fix; two women on his hands, and nowhere to go, for 
he had never been there before, and depended on find- 
ing the shanty irom Ben’s description of its location, 
which would have been easy enough in the day-time, 
but our friend with the luggage had broken down on 
the way, and was not able to get through before dark. 
The ladies were bound to get to the shanty that night, 
so they all started out. Hank said it was the longest 
two miles he ever rowed. But “All’s well that eeds 
well,” and the day that so gloomily began ended with 
bright anticipations for the morrow. Ben dressed and 
cooked the trout; Hank and the ladies “guessed we 
bought them of some one,” but I could bear their fun; 
a clear conscience was everything, and I was happy. 
One thing sure; there was none to spare of that mess of 
fish, wherever it came from, but we made out to find 
something to finish out with, and then Ben built a roar- 
ing fire out under the trees. Hank and I filled our pipes, 
leaned back against a couple of white birches, and pro- 
ceeded to extract comfort and tobacco smoke at the 
rate of “nineteen to the dozen.” At the early hour of 
eleven we retired. Our beds were made of spruce twigs 
with army blankets spread over them. Mother com- 
plained that Ben had not stirred up the feathers prop- 
erly in hers; I thought myself, it was harely possible he 
had left some quill feathers in mine. However, our 
troubles soon ceased, old Morpheus (not morphine-us) 
came and closed our eyes. Tha next realizing sensation 
I had was the voice of mother, calling, “Come, Doctor, 
get up! oh, you are a nice fellow for camp life. Day- 
light, and you asleep yet!” This aroused us all; we 
took our way to the shore of the lake, made our morn- 
ing toilets, its crystal water serving as mirror and basin. 
In the meantime, Ben had been preparing the coffee, of 
which we partook, together with some cold meat and 
bread; we then launched our boats and proceeded tow- 
ard the scene of my last evening’s success. The ladies 
concluded they would not fish, but watch us to-day, and 
enjoy by proxy the glorious sport, also view the ever 
changing beauties of Lion mountain, and the adjacent 
scenery. 
'W'e had splendid luck, at least I thought so then, for 
on returning to camp at 11 a. m. , we had from two poles, 
forty trout, averaging about the same as those I caught 
the night previous, in the afternoon Hank succeeded 
in shooting four small ducks; these with the trout made 
us feel safe from starvation, for a short time at least. 
Our guide was very mnch interested in the breech-load- 
ers. He had seen a rifle that loaded that way, but never 
saw a shotgun of the kind before. In the afternoon of 
the following day we were all out fishing, anchored a 
few rods from shore; Mother, Hank, and Ben in one 
boat, and wife and myself in another; a plover came 
along and alighted within a short distance of Ben’s 
boat, he was very anxious to try the gun on him. Hank 
handed it over; Ben raised up, took deliberate aim and 
fired; away went the bird, Ben watched him out of 
sight, and then opened Ithe gun, took out the shell (a 
metalic one) and threw it overboard, then we laughed 
at him. Hank thought the laugh was on him, for he 
was one shell out. Ben said he did not know what we 
wanted of the “ darned ” thing, he always threw his 
away. My better half has been looking over my shoul- 
der, and says if I tell of her mishap that day she will 
write something about me and turn the laugh in another 
direction not so pleasing to B. L. I think I will “ take 
the chances,” and “peach” on her, then perhaps Mrs. 
Ibex will have a companion in Rod and Gun’s pages. 
The story runs thus: A short time after Ben tried his 
hand with the new gun, a kingfisher alighted on an old 
stump near us, my wife saw him and wished she had 
his wings, I said there is the gun, you can try your 
skill. She took me at my word, removed the shell 
loaded with coarse shot and inserted one marked No. 8, 
stood up, took aim, and soon after I as making frantic 
efforts to right the boat and see what damage had been 
done. Madam was crawling up from the bottom of the 
boat, which had shipped about a barrel of water, her 
clothes dripping and she sputtering and declaring she 
had a good mind to throw the gun where Ben did the 
the shell. The kingfisher went off with his shrill cry, 
which always reminds me of winding up an old 
wooden clock, none the worse for his participation in 
the grand catastrophe. Those who have seen or met 
with similar mishaps can judge whether we laughed or 
not. The explanation was, the shell she put in had 
been charged with five drachms of powder and one and 
a quarter ounces of shot. Of course this closed the 
fishing for a time, as Madam had to return to camp for 
a change of clothing. 'We continued fishing ‘here for 
few days’with varied success, finally becoming anxious 
for a change, Ben said we would go over to Bradley 
Pofid and try our luck on deer. Next morning he and I 
started and went two miles by boat to Seine Bay, from 
there four miles through the woods to the pond. We 
left Hank at the bay, Ben thinking it best, as deer 
started at the pond sometimes made for that point. 
After a tedious tramp we reached our destination and 
commenced to hunt for the “ dugout,” which was to 
serve us in case a deer took to the water and got out of 
reach of our guns from the shore, we soon found it, and 
although I had been on board some shaky crafts in my 
day, this heat them all. I thought it would take con- 
siderable “ buck fever ” to induce me to embark in it. 
I could but await events. Ben launched his craft, and 
started with his dogs to find a fresh track ; giving me 
orders to keep quiet until he came back or I saw a deer. 
While waiting for the music of the chase to commence 
a splendid flock of black ducks came along, I had hard 
work to keep the gun down, but an earnest desire for 
venison conquered and the ducks went by unmolested. 
Hour after hour crept on until my watch told the hour 
of 2 p. m., no Ben, no dogs, no music, no deer, I became 
uneasy, my pipe had gone out for want of fuel, my pa- 
tience was fast going, when a slight rustling in the 
bushes caused me to look around, and Ben appeared on 
the scene, tired and disgusted, with the remark “ The 
pesky deer has gone into Chateaugay Lake,” threw him- 
self down on the ground, then I was vexed to think I 
did not shoot the ducks. I asked Ben what was to be 
done: “Go back to camp, I suppose, but if you do not 
mind an extra mile or so, we will go by the, way of 
Mud Pond and see if we can get a shot at some ducks.” 
I assented of course, for I knew we should be laughed 
at if we did not get any game, and “ duck ” comes 
next to “dear,” in married life at least, why not in 
hunting? JIud Pond was reached and no sooner had 
we arrived than away went the ducks out of reach and 
I began to thii-k fate was against us, when Ben said in a 
whisper, “ I think they did not all go out, and if we 
crawl along carefully to the head of the pond, you may 
get a shot yet.” So with renewed caution and bated 
breath we crept along and nearing the edge of the 
I [to k oonthtdhd.I 
