April s, 1913 
FOREST AND STREAM 
427 
cool, we stufifed a few needful articles in our 
pack, and went over there prepared to stay a 
few days, to see if we could get one of the big 
deer that had been seen. There was a little 
log cabin and a great surplus of young 
balsam that we cut down and used freely to 
make comfortable beds, and to carpet the floors. 
A few hours’ healthy exercise and we had a 
camp, such as would delight the heart of any 
hunter. The ponds were small, shallow and 
muddy at the bottom. We prospected round 
the fringe of dense underbrush on the shore, 
and on the second day came upon a large buck 
deer feeding among the thickest of the cover. 
He raised his head and assumed a poise as for 
a picture; a noble sight to see. and a well di¬ 
rected soft-lead bullet finished his career. He 
was a big, old fellow, and had evidently been 
in some rough fights, as one ear had been slit 
for some inches, and the other bore evidence of 
having previously been frozen, as a piece of it 
was gone. This was the largest animal of the 
species I had ever seen, and it was no easy 
task to carry that head and carcass over that 
rough, steep three-mule trail. I afterward had 
the head mounted, and it is now one of my 
most highly prized trophies. 
The venison we cooked in every way that 
skill and location would permit, even rivalling 
in a peculiar excellence the famous inimitable 
dinners at Kennelly’s on Broadway. 
What sports are there in house or city to 
compare with those that the children of the 
wild wood enjoy, and often as we pause a 
moment in the hot smoky air of town, will 
come the refreshing memory of these scenes 
and cool breezes, that forever blow on the clear 
waters of Aroostook. 
Not the least in importance is the selection 
of your guide, he should have a cheerful dis¬ 
position. quick, inventive and active. A skillful, 
correct-mannered guide is a great joy and a 
source of constant pleasure. A good, true sport 
or a good and faithful guide is rarely over-talk¬ 
ative—the habit of their skill is silence and the 
conversational powers, the “feast of reason and 
flow of soul,’’ are reserved for the camp-fire. 
These men of the w'oods are generally self-re¬ 
liant, independent, models of energy and faith¬ 
fulness, and if you treat them fairly and in a 
respectful, manly spirit, you will surely get your 
money’s worth, and I have seen them under every 
test—hunger and fatigue, exposure to heat and 
cold, sickness and health, good and bad luck— 
and a more faithful, honest, painstaking, patient 
class does not exist. Modest of speech, fearless 
of danger, untiring in their efforts to please, and 
to prove a faithful helper and friend. In going 
into camp with a guide avoid a low-bred, coarse- 
mannered, surly fellow as you would a pesti¬ 
lence or a rattlesnake. 
Many pleasant evenings are spent in the 
glow around the camp-fire, with a few genial 
friends, and kindred spirits to listen, and relate 
the story of adventure. Shoot over again your 
first or largest buck, and land once more your 
largest or gamest trout. 
What a jolly personnel was here assembled, 
one could scarcely imagine a more frolicsome 
set on a vacation, with all serious cares left be¬ 
hind. A great physician from Boston left the 
serious business of his profession behind him 
and was always ready and willing to inject 
mirth into a meeting, and a most genial sunny 
fellow and excellent sport as ever enlivened a 
camp. A merchant who when in the city sup¬ 
plied nearly half of the people there with many 
of their needs, and who has the faculty of mak¬ 
ing people feel it a pleasure to hand him their 
money, and his table talk was a source of pleas¬ 
ure and an aid to digestion. A young banker, 
an athlete, who was always so fit and jovial, 
one morning after his usual swim in the cold 
waters of the lake, was asked as to his condi¬ 
tion, remarked that he felt as if he could lick 
Ins weight in wildcats. What never-to-be-for¬ 
gotten occasion was the hour of the evening 
meal! when the hungry set met bronzed from 
exposure to the wind, water and the sun. What 
jokes provoking roars of laughter enlivened that 
meal! No rudeness or questionable stories, and 
with each sally of wit and roar of laughter, the 
ethics of a gentleman were never violated, and 
they always mixed their wine with sobriety. 
Tliere is no social directory in the wilder¬ 
ness, and the company was not made up by a 
social leader. Oh, no! All were thrown to¬ 
gether by chance, or at least by the “call of the 
wild.” 
One afternoon some time after the opening 
of the moose shooting season, the banker and 
his guide, who had been absent from camp for 
two days, drew their canoe up on the landing. 
Not only did he poise his most important bank 
director step, but he carried with him an air 
of responsibility, onl}' seen in those who have 
been frequently marked with success.' His face 
was lit up with more than his usual cheerful 
disposition. “How is it ‘sport,’ ” asked the 
scribe, with a laugh, “have they made you presi¬ 
dent of your exchange, or are you to join the 
central figure at a wedding?” “Joining the cen¬ 
tral figure at a wedding is all right,” was his 
reply, “but I’ve got something that knocks being 
president of an exchange cold! We went up 
yonder in the thick timber and shot a big bull 
moose with a fine head. Oh! it was a nice 
tidy affair, landed him with one shot from my 
old reliable .45-90 Winchester.” He had been in 
camp two weeks, and the only thing he needed 
to complete his cup of hunting happiness was a 
bull moose, and from that day forth he has tuned 
his heart to sing the praise of Aroostook. 
Did you ever notice the response that oc¬ 
casionally occurs to persons with a genial 
nature and a generous spirit? Well, it broke out 
here, and every sport and guide at the camp 
volunteered assistance to skid that moose to 
where he could be put on a raft of three canoes 
and brought to camp. The head has been 
beautifully prepared and now adorns the walls 
of a city mansion. 
In order to lighten the penalty of declining 
years, we must go back to nature at least once 
every year and be refreshed and rejuvenated by 
the murmuring waters, and be lulled to sleep by 
the song of the rapids; and if we live to be old, 
we shall yet die young, with a treasury stored 
full of memories, that will be well worth having. 
Aw, What’s the Use. 
A right-handed writer named Wright, 
In writing “write” always wrote “rite.” 
He meant to write “write,” 
Rut he couldn’t write right— 
Who started this darn thing, anyway? 
—Cincinnati Enquirer. 
New Publication. 
SiNOPAH, THE Indian Boy, by James Willard 
Schultz (Ap-i-kun-i). Profusely illustrated 
by E. Boyd Smith. Houghton Mifflin Co., 
New York. Price, $1.10 net. 
Here is a story of a Blackfoot Indian boy, 
who, from his christening Sinopah, to his life 
as the great Chief Pitamakan, furnishes a narra¬ 
tive enjoyable to the grown-up and thrilling to 
young people. Those were wild days when Sino¬ 
pah was born. Fort Benton, owned by the Amer¬ 
ican Fur Company, was the only white settle¬ 
ment in Montana. The Blackfeet owned all of 
the country from Saskatchewan River in Canada, 
south to the Yellowstone River, and from the 
Rocky Mountains eastward 300 miles. The plains 
were covered wdth buffalo and antelope, while 
in the mountains and along the rivers elk, deer, 
big-horn, moose, black and grizzly bear and 
wolves were abundant. It was in this setting 
that Sinopah was reared. It is in this atmos¬ 
phere that Apikuni has developed his famous 
stories, now historic in literature; and this last 
effort shows no diminution in wondrous interest 
from his previous classics. Read it to your boys 
and girls for the pleasure you will get and the 
profit that from it they will derive. 
Tanning Skins. 
Bethlehem, Pa., IMarch 28 .—Editor Forest 
and Stream: I see by this week’s issue of Forest 
AND Stream your Buffalo correspondent, Mr. 
Fames, asks for a simple formula for tanning 
skins. The following has been used with success 
by myself and others for tanning fresh skins: 
One part alum, one part saltpeter, one and a 
quarter parts salt. Make all very fine and cover 
flesh side, roll up and leave four days in a cool 
place, then rub w'ell until dry; stretch on a flat 
surface and paint with neatsfoot oil; leave four 
days, take down, and work oil in well. If a 
thick skin (deer, etc.) give another coat of oil 
and rub. John F. Rauch. 
Who Lost This Bird ? 
East Northfield, Mass., March 26. —Editor 
Forest and Stream: We have discovered a car¬ 
rier pigeon in our barn, with the following mark¬ 
ings on it: No. 12, U. F. B. Mason, St. Law¬ 
rence, 307 Mass. Not being familiar with the 
abbreviations and terminology of fanciers, I am 
at a loss to know whom to address to notify them 
of their property being in our hands, and write 
to you for information. W. R. Moody. 
Sleeps with Fly-Book Under Pillow. 
Plainfield, N. J., March 18.— Editor Forest 
and Stream: Your paper failed to put in an 
appearance last week at the usual time. I missed 
it awfully. 
Please hurry along; spring is coming. I 
retire early and sleep with my fly-book under 
my pillow and dream of the budding leaves and 
the streams and the quiet rise of the big fellow 
that “done” me last season. Good luck. 
John Doughty. 
