300 
FOREST AND STREAM 
March 8, 1913 
The Adirondacks of 1858 and 1888 
By J. L. DAVISON 
WAS much interested in Albert Bigelow’s 
article in your Oct. 5 number of Forest and 
Stream, as I was in the Adirondacks in 1858' 
on Raquette River, in St. Lawrence county, and 
again in 1888, when the late W. H. Moak, of 
New York, and I tramped 150 miles through 
that wilderness, commencing our tramp at 
Northville, Fulton county, and ending it at 
Theresa, Jefferson county. We arrived at the 
Sturgess Flouse, Lake Pleasant, the first evening 
of Sept. 21, where we found our pack baskets 
that we had forwarded by stage express. As 
it rained the next morning, we did not get 
started until after 10 o’clock. This was our 
first real tramp, as we had our baskets on our 
back, and I had my shotgun in its case. After 
two miles’ tramp, we came to the State fish 
hatchery, just being finished, and we were glad 
for an excuse to stop and rest and spend an 
interesting half hour. From the hatchery we 
took a trail over the mountains, and such woods 
I had not seen for thirty years. Just before 
reaching Jessup River we put up a flock of 
grouse, but we did not stop to secure any of 
them. We arrived at McCormick’s, Lewy Lake, 
at 5 o’clock. My companion was taken ill the 
next morning (Sunday) and we did not get 
away until Tuesday morning at 9 o’clock and 
took a trail for Indian Lake House, eight miles 
distance, where we arrived at 3 o’clock p. m. 
and left at 6 o’clock the next morning. After 
an hour’s walk we stopped to cook our break¬ 
fast of bacon, fried potatoes and coffee, which 
with bread and butter we were eating, when a 
young daughter of Mr. Griffin, of Indian Lake 
House, passed us on the way to school, a two 
and a half mile walk. As we passed the school 
house half an hour later, I asked one of the 
children how many scholars there were. She 
answered, “ ’Leven.” 
We arrived at Indian Lake postoffice at 11:15 
where we mailed our postal cards, and making a 
few purchases of eatables, left at 11:30. About 
a mile from the village we called on W. D. 
W akley, where Mr. Moak had stopped nine years 
before while going to Raquette Lake. Mr. 
Wakley’s house was on a hillside a few rods 
from Cedar River, from which can be seen 
twelve mountains, among them Mt. Marcy, the 
highest in the range. 1 must not forget to men¬ 
tion that Mr. Wakley was a Democrat and a 
strong Cleveland and Thurman man. About 
eight miles from Indian Lake village we passed 
through a windfall wdiere a cyclone had passed 
through the past July. For half a mile in width 
and ten miles long, not a whole tree w'as left 
standing. It passed over the road we were on, 
and it was a job to clear the road. I never be¬ 
fore or since saw such a sight. 
We reached Blue Mountain Lake at 5:45, 
making twenty and one-half miles during the 
day. We stopped at the Fair View House, a 
small new house kept by James Sault. The next 
morning (Thursday) started for Raquette Lake. 
As we walked down the street, we passed two 
young ladies each having an oar. As we crossed 
the border of the outlet of the Blue Mountain 
Lake into Eagle Lake, a boat passed under the 
bridge, and in it were the two young ladies. I 
mention this, as I shall have occasion to speak 
of them later. About half a mile from the 
bridge we came to an old clearing. On the 
hillside fronting on Eagle Lake we saw a neat 
frame house with a one and a half story log 
house nearly in front of it. We stopped at the 
house to ask about our route, and during the 
conversation we were told that the old log house 
was "Eagle’s Nest,” where Ned Buntline (Col. 
E. Z. C. Judson) lived for many years. Mr. 
Bigelow mentions of meeting “a young man who 
had built a camp somewhere near Blue Moun¬ 
tain Lake, who told us he had cured his ten¬ 
dency to consumption, he thought, by his stay 
there.’’ It is a well known fact New Buntline 
built his camp on Eagle Lake to get away from 
his worst enemy, alcohol, which was the only 
tendency toward consumption he had. He was 
a writer of fiction, and during the ’50s and ’60s 
wrote for the late Robert Bonner, of the New 
York Ledger. It was at Eagle Nest that he 
wrote these beautiful lines : 
Where the silvery gleam of the rushing stream 
Is as brightly seen on the rocks, dark green. 
Where the white pink grows by the wild red rose. 
And the bluebird sings till the welkin rings. 
Where the red deer leaps and the panther creeps. 
And the eagle screams over cliff and stream; 
Where the lilies bow their heads of snow. 
And the hemlocks tall throw a shade o’er all; 
Where the rolling surf laves the emerald turf, 
Where the trout leaps high at the hovering Hy, 
Where the spotted fawn crops the soft green lawn. 
And the crow’s shrill cry bodes a tempest nigh— 
There is my home, my wildwood home. 
I cannot vouch for “the crow’s shrill cry,” 
but certain it is that here we witnessed the most 
severe storm we had while in the woods. It was 
a veritable tempest, and in the middle of the 
lake was the boat with the two young ladies. 
I watched through my field glasses and expected 
every moment to see them capsize, but they 
managed to keep the boat headed against the 
wind and finally passed into the outlet leading 
into Lake Utowana. 
The storm having made the trail too wet 
for walking, we engaged the young man living 
at Eagle's Nest to take us by boat through 
Eagle and Utowana lakes to Bassett’s, six miles. 
As we entered the outlet we met the young 
ladies returning, but when assured by our guide 
that there was no danger in passing through 
Lake Utowana and Raquette to their destina¬ 
tion, the cottage of Mr. Hasbrook, of New 
York, they again started on their way. Our 
guide proposed that I should row their boat. 
As there were only two seats in their boat, one 
of the young ladies took my seat in the guide’s 
boat. Although the lake was very rough, by 
keeping near the windward shore we got to 
Bassett’s all right. Our guide took the young 
ladies’ boat on his shoulders and carried it be¬ 
low the rapids and put it into Marion River. 
While we were waiting at the landing for their 
boat, the young lady that did the rowing dur¬ 
ing the storm on Eagle Lake showed me her 
hands, that were blistered from rowing. I put 
court plaster on them, and getting her in the 
boat with the other young lady to do the row¬ 
ing, bade them bon voyage, little expecting to 
ever see them again, but the sequel will tell. 
We reached the Raquette Lake House, kept 
l5y Wm. Pashley, at 5 o’clock. When w’e left 
Bassett’s we intended going to Forked Lake, but 
got off the trail and made Raquette Lake in¬ 
stead. On Friday morning we got a boat of 
Mr. Pashley and went to the Forked Lake House 
where Mr. Moak had stopped nine years before. 
The house was closed, but it did not matter as 
we did not intend to stop. While returning on 
Raquette Lake we stopped at a camp to cook 
our dinner, and who should we find there but 
our young lady friends of the day before. The 
camp belonged to Mr. Hasbrook, of New York, 
ALASKA GAME WARDENS’ WINTER QUARTERS. 
J. C. Tolman, Senior Game Warden, Kenai and Alaska Peninsulas. 
