980 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Dec. 22, 1906. 
through the woods on the morning of his de¬ 
parture. In truth, Berwick did possess, some ad¬ 
vantages for his business, but on the other hand, 
Dobbstown really did have all the advantages 
which were claimed- for her, and only for the 
’too strenuous efforts of many of the citizens of 
that village, to unload upon the possible victim 
every undesirable bit of real estate in that vicinity 
at a price far from reasonable, Mr. Hamilton 
would have gladly availed .himself of the invita¬ 
tion to bring his business there. Even this escort 
which he had been favored with had not been 
without a purpose, for as Mr. Henry L. G. Phil¬ 
lips had said the night before, “Maybe we can 
kind o’ fetch him around yet if we try hard 
while a drivin’ over there.” .The committee on 
“fetchin’ around” had “tried hard” from the time 
the party started, but all their efforts had fallen 
on deaf ears. Mr. Hamilton’s mind was made 
up and for diversion he was scanning every tree 
within sight of the road for' squirrels of which 
there seemed to be a plenty, for the factory owner 
had been a country boy and his eyes had never 
lost their power to distinguish the difference be¬ 
tween a waving brown leaf and a wind-swuilg 
squirrel’s tail. Just in the midst of a testimonial 
given by Mr. G. W. Witherspoon regarding the 
superiority of the drinking water in the vicinity 
of his native village over that of Berwick, Mr. 
Hamilton suddenly stopped the team. He had 
been watching the maneuvers of a man and dog 
about a giant ■ elm a few rods from the road¬ 
side. 
“Humph!” said Mr. Kissinger, of the Cloth¬ 
ing Emporium. “Now, ain’t that a purty sight? 
A young man a wastin’ his time huntin’ squir¬ 
rels when he might be doin’ somethin’ that would 
amount to somethin’.” 
“Who is he?” asked Mr. Hamilton. 
. “Why, that’s Bob Mallory,” answered Mr. Phil¬ 
lips. “His paw was ol’ Doc. Mallory an’ left this 
young feller purty well fixed, an’ he don’t do 
nothin’ but traipse-around, huntin’ an’ fishin’ an’ 
docterin’ dogs. He don’t amount to much—don’t 
take no interest in public enterprises.” 
“It’s pretty hard to get a shot at a squirrel at 
this time of the year, when the leaves are so 
thick,” said Mr. Hamilton. 
“My boy, Hennery, says Bob won’t shoot a 
squirrel anywhere but in the head,” put in Cap¬ 
tain Wagoner. 
“That so?” questioned Mr. Hamilton, with in¬ 
creased interest. “That’s the way I used to 
shoot ’em when I went hunting—I guess I'll go 
over there and help that fellow get that squir¬ 
rel around on his side of the tree.” And Mr. 
Hamilton left five disgusted gentlemen behind. 
At no time during his visit to Dobbstown had 
they seen him show so much interest in anything 
as he did in this trivial matter of shooting a 
squirrel. Even the brier-covered stake and rider 
fence which bordered the roadway did not per¬ 
ceptibly retard the progress of his 250 pounds, 
and as his feet touched the ground on the other 
side, even his walk changed from the waddle of 
a too well fed man accustomed to smooth pave¬ 
ments and elevators to a step that was almost 
stealthy. As Hamilton approached that tree in 
which the squirrel had sought refuge, Bob’s dog 
pranced about in a way that showed that he 
realized that reinforcements were at hand, but 
Bob himself did not for an instant take his eyes 
off the branch far up in the top of the tree, 
around which he could occasionally catch a 
glimpse of a bushy tail. Mr. Hamilton intro¬ 
duced himself to the squirrel hunter in a manner 
best suited to form a good impression by simply 
keeping quiet until he too had located the squir¬ 
rel, and then offered to shake a sapling near at 
hand to scare the game around on Bob’s side of 
the branch. 
“But. don’t shake if too much,” cautioned Bob. 
“He’s pretty badly scared, and if he jumps into 
that next tree he’s a goner. There’s a hole in 
that tree. He’s kept me busy for half an hour 
already and I don’t want to lose him now.” 
Mr. Hamilton exercised just the right amount 
of caution in shaking the sapling, and a couple 
of seconds later Bob’s rifle cracked and the squir¬ 
rel came tumbling down, to be immediately seized 
and examined for signs of life by a highly ex¬ 
cited dog. Life being pronounced extinct, and 
the game laid at his master’s feet, the dog started 
off in search of other conquests, and Bob turned 
his attention to the producer of churns and 
cheeseboxes. 
“He never knew what hit him,” said Mr. 
Hamilton. 
“No; I don’t reckon he had time to make a 
will,” answered Bob, and the ice was broken for¬ 
ever. Right there the two sat down and talked 
like life long friends of things that only lovers of 
the woods would find any interest in, until an 
hour later Mr. Hamilton suddenly recollected 
that five principal cogs in the wheel of commerce 
of Dobbs county were waiting for him in the car- ' 
riage, and rising, extended his hand to bid fare¬ 
well to the only man in Dobbs county who had 
not sought his acquaintance. 
“But what’s the reason you don’t stay in Dobbs¬ 
town?” asked the man in the hunting coat. “You 
tell me that you did. intend to until yesterday, 
and that it does seem like the best location for 
you.” 
Glad to find an acquaintance that he felt he 
could confide in, Mr. Hamilton showed no hesi¬ 
tation in launching into the story of his experi¬ 
ences in Dobbstown, and the circumstances which 
prompted him to decide against that village. As 
the story lengthened, a smile came over Bob’s 
genial face, a smile which gradually broadened 
into a far stretching grin, and when Mr. Hamil¬ 
ton concluded his recital, Bob dropped a sun- 
browned hand on the shoulder of the factory man 
and said: “You have already told qie that you 
haven’t any more capital than you need to move 
your outfit to a new location, and put up your 
buildings and get sort of straightened around, 
and that you feel as if Dobbstown had tried to 
kill the goose before she got a chance to lay any 
golden eggs. Now, I have a proposition that I’ll 
make to you, but I want to talk things over with 
you before I spring it, so you just step out to 
the road and thank the five gentlemen in the 
carriage for their trouble, and tell them you have 
changed your plans and will walk back to town- 
with a friend. Then we can go over this propo¬ 
sition thoroughly, and to-morrow morning I will 
drive you over to Berwick, if you still want to 
go.” 
Mr. Hamilton hesitated a moment, then went 
•and delivered his little speech, and bowing, re¬ 
joined ,his new-found friend. During the next 
few hours the two men sat in consultation on a 
log. A boy who chanced to pass near the pair 
heard Bob say: “So if you can get along with 
half of that patch of pasture land, take it and 
welcome. I will cut the other half up into build¬ 
ing lots and can more than break even on the 
advance in the price on them that your factory 
will cause. Besides, I have some personal rea¬ 
sons for wanting to get rid of that piece of pas¬ 
ture.” 
That night Mr. Hamilton occupied the spare 
room at the Mallory home, and a couple of days 
later The Bugle, in concluding a two-column ar¬ 
ticle on the front page, said: 
“The honor of securing the Hamilton Factory 
for Dobbstown belongs undividedly to our latest 
and best public organization, the Dobbstown 
Commercial Club. It was only through the un¬ 
selfish and untiring efforts of the officers and 
members of this organization that Dobbstown has 
been able to take this step toward a place among 
the great manufacturing- centers of the coun¬ 
try. When the public spirited citizens of a town 
and county put their united strength to the wheel, 
good results are not slow in coming.” 
It was probably just as well, however, that The 
Bugle did take this view of the matter, as the 
above article increased the popularity, of the paper 
with the best advertisers in. town, and as for 
Bob and Mr. Hamilton, what did they care? At 
the time the article appeared they were putting 
up their canjp on Goose Island preparatory to 
spending a couple of weeks at that favorite refuge 
of Bob’s and the bass never seemed so raven¬ 
ously hungry as they were during the fortnight 
that followed. Buck A. Corbin. 
SUBSTANTIAL NOURISHMENT. 
The chief concern of every camper is to obtain sub¬ 
stantial nourishment in compact form. No camp or cabin 
is complete without its supply of Eagle Brand Condensed 
Milk and Peerless Evaporated Cream. They have no 
equal for Coffee, Fruits and Cereals.— Adv. 
Camp Don’t Hurry. 
II.—Starting Camp. 
Frequently during the trip from Angowara 
we went to the baggage car to cheer the dogs, 
and see how they liked the journey. They had 
started out barking and jumping around after the 
most approved manner'of dogs in new surround¬ 
ings where they are both displeased and lone¬ 
some. The second visit found them sitting still 
and wearing faces which made us suspicious of 
car sickness, and the third showed visible evi¬ 
dences to confirm our suspicion. Their lunch at 
Angowara had been a mistake, but seeing the 
error of their way, they had not clung to it, and 
were now meek and subdued. The baggage mas¬ 
ter did not feel so meek, and it took a dollar to 
subdue him. After the operation they had rested 
quietly until we arrived at Unasego, and as we 
alighted from the train they were about well 
again, although there was no fight, and not much 
of anything else left in them. 
It had been previously arranged that we should 
spend the night at the home of George Brown, 
which is near the station. Mr. Brown was there 
to meet us, and after introducing Robert, and 
chatting with a few old acquaintances who hap¬ 
pened to be around, we all started for the house, 
taking the short cut through the lane. Mrs. 
Brown stood on the back porch and called to us 
to not let the dogs hurt her cat, but the good 
woman was needlessly alarmed, for the cat pos¬ 
sessed not only a half grown kitten, but a full 
grow ability. 
We tied the dogs under the wagon shed, and 
had been at our supper about ten minutes when 
a babel of barks and whines came into the house. 
Mrs. Brown screamed, “Oh, my poor Tabby!” 
but we could not distinguish anything in the 
sound to indicate that Tabby was on the bottom, 
and all piled out to the shed in a bunch. Lassie 
was up on a wagon seat doing the barking, and 
Terry was being scratched and doing the whin¬ 
ing. In trying to get away from the cat, he had 
run back and forth between the wagon spokes 
with fifteen feet of clothes line until he had 
crocheted it all up, and being held fast, was tak¬ 
ing whatever the cat cared to give. Somehow an 
old cat with a half grown kitten doesn’t seem to 
tree very well. 
After supper we met Uncle Nick. His full 
name was Nicholas Vanbenscoten, but that struck 
us as being a little too full, so we always called 
him Uncle Nick. He was a short, ruggedly built 
old man, with a weather-beaten face, and a sort 
of twinkle in his eyes which seemed to come from 
back in his head somewhere. He had been a 
mountain teamster the most of his life, and Mr. 
Brown had engaged him to help us about the 
camp. 
We intended to do the cooking ourselves, but 
sometimes we should all want to be away at once, 
and then he could look after the dogs and any 
inquisitive people who might wish to take away 
samples of our equipment. But his principal 
occupation was to wash dishes and get firewood. 
Almost nobody wants to get right into dish 
washing as soon as he has eaten a meal, and 
when one hand is filled with wet knives and forks, 
and the other is holding a towel, there is noth¬ 
ing left to handle the pipe with. Uncle Nick’s 
presence would give us a chance to have our after 
dinner smoke around the camp-fire, without dirty 
pots and kettles lying too heavily upon our con¬ 
sciences. 
When the moon came up, we took the dogs 
and walked down to the bridge over the creek. 
It is very long; nearly five hundred feet, and the 
water at ordinary stages fills two-thirds of the 
space, but that evening it covered the entire chan¬ 
nel, for there had been a heavy rain during the 
previous night, and the mountains are so steep 
that the stream rises very quickly. It looked a 
yellowish white in the light of the moon, but that 
was because it was roily, for naturally it is clear 
as a crystal. A big swift stream in that condi¬ 
tion, sweeping under one, is a relentless looking 
thing. Of course it was in no condition for fly¬ 
fishing, but wc did not care about that until we 
were ready, for it was going to take a day er 
two to get the camp arranged. We leaned over 
the railing and discussed the prospects from a 
