June i, 19-12 
FOREST AND STREAM 
691 
to slink away into the darkness, while another 
rushed up to meet us. It gave me a decided 
creepy sensation, and I am sure had we not 
found where the old path united with the road 
when we did, I would have made a run for it, 
and had I done so I would have been chased by 
every one of those ghostly grave stones. 
“ ‘Say,’ remarked his honor, when we felt the 
good sand beneath our feet, ‘you hurried through 
that grave yard as though you thought the shade 
of old man Gardner was close after your heels.’ 
Old man Gardner was a one-time character who 
fished the Pine River with a long cane pole, 
caught fish and doubt’s anodyne, whose ashes rest 
in peace above the stream he loved so well in 
life. I let it go that it was Gardner’s shade 
which bothered me, but I knew it was the knowl¬ 
edge that my companion toted a basket of fish, 
every one of which was taken illegally. 
“VVe sneaked into the barnyard of the farm 
where we put up, felt our way into the granary, 
and buried our trout deep in the oat bin; then 
entered the kitchen of the farmhouse where we 
were entertained and tried to look as though 
we had simply been on a prolonged casting ex¬ 
pedition. If the good agriculturist had any sus¬ 
picions he did not manifest it by look or remark. 
So we sat and visited until the theological stu¬ 
dent and his companion came in, after they, too, 
had made a surreptitious visit to the granary, 
then we had a hot supper and retired. The 
farmer calling to us as we climbed the creak¬ 
ing stairs, ‘I hope you will have good sport on 
the morrow,’ and we felt somehow that there 
was gentle chiding in his kindly wishes. 
“That happened long ago. Honorable so-and- 
so, to whom the fishermen of Wisconsin owe 
the planting of many a stream with trout fry, 
has gone to his long reward, while the other 
members of the group are widely scattered, but 
I, as fourth member, will never forget the only 
time I fished before the legal season opened.” 
From Eastern City to Western Forest 
Chapter III.—Visitors to the Ranch 
C HAPTER I. referred to my escape from city 
life and Chapter H. contained some salmon 
stories, but it must not be inferred that I 
am a “sporting farmer.” A man who has his own 
work to do on a dozen acres of land (without 
hired help) has few idle hours. The regular 
chores are relentless and exacting and would be 
unbearable except for the pleasure of doing 
them. Live stock must be fed and looked after 
during seven days of every week, and the same 
is true of things indoors. Fuel has to be sup¬ 
plied and errands done. There is garden work 
and orchard work; always something from sun 
to sun. Work of this sort cannot possibly be 
very profitable in a financial sense, even where 
the sales of produce are considerable, but there 
are dividends, nevertheless. Perceptions are 
made clear, all the wholesome appetites are 
whetted, and sleep is sweet and refreshing. And 
one’s interest in humanity is made acute rather 
than dull by a partial renew'al from the hubbub 
of the world. 
Out of the woods one spring day came a little 
smiling fisherman. I knew him to be a dominie 
from his dress. He was using flies in his quest 
for trout. Our stream is not adapted to fly-fish¬ 
ing, being for the most part lined or half covered 
with shrubs and brush, but this man’s skill and 
patience overcame all obstacles, and he was tak¬ 
ing a good many fish. 
What a pleasure it was to discover a personal 
friend in this way; a man never seen before or 
since, but who knew far-away places and people 
known to me, and who used for bait the same 
flies that I had used years before in Eastern 
waters. 
Another man came out of the woods another 
day; very early in the morning. He knocked on 
the cabin door and asked his way. He did not 
ask to enter, but turned to take the trail to the 
village. He was thoroughly wet and evidently 
cold. 
His act in turning away from shelter, warmth 
and food instantly won sympathy. He was taken 
in and put by a warm stove. His shoes and 
stockings, coat and vest were removed. He 
emptied his pockets of papers, maps, a Bible 
and various small articles. He was made dry 
By ERION 
and comfortable and supplied with coffee and 
broiled trout. His face changed shape, and be¬ 
came broader, and his tongue found itself. He 
had been on a real estate errand the previous 
day, and on his return had attempted to make a 
short cut and had become lost. He had a com¬ 
pass, but as night came on he could not recog¬ 
nize the north end of the needle. In trying to 
make a fire he used match after match, until 
the supply was reduced to one, but that match, 
the last, gave him a blaze, and he had not suf¬ 
fered from cold during the night. With early 
dawn he was again on foot, but unable to tell 
whether he was on the east or west side of the 
peninsula. He shouted and called, again and 
again, but could get no response, and all the 
time he was becoming more an'd more wet, part¬ 
ly from the bushes and partly from the rain. 
Finally he did the sensible thing—followed down 
a running stream in the certainty that it would 
lead him out of the wilderness. 
“The smoke coming out of your chimney was 
a most welcome sight,” he said. Doubtless that 
was true, for a man who is tired, hungry, cold 
and wet may feel miserable enough. 
Hunters of deer and bear sometimes knock on 
the cabin door. Such a man came during a rain 
storm in autumn. He was afforded temporary 
shelter and directed as to the best and shortest 
way to the steamboat landing. He was a young 
man of pleasing address, hailing from the city. 
In the course of a week he was back again with 
a comrade. They asked permission to sleep in 
the barn, which was granted. Before daylight 
they had breakfasted in the kitchen, and were 
off to the woods. They took the western of the 
two valleys that converge near the cabin. 
Hardly had the two city hunters disappeared 
from sight when along came one of my neigh¬ 
bors, an Indian-footed white man, destined for 
the same valley. I halted him and explained the 
situation ahead. He promised to be careful, but 
nevertheless when he overtook the hunters he 
found himself looking at two rifles pointed his 
way. 
The three men walked together up the wooded 
valley for a time and then separated. My neigh¬ 
bor crossed the stream and presently forged 
ahead of the others. He afterward explained 
that he knew it was out of the question for a 
party of three to surprise a bear, as his two 
companions were making considerable noise as 
they went along. 
In a hour or so the foremost hunter found a 
bear on a log jam looking for salmon. He shot 
and killed the animal, removed the entrails, and 
made ready to carry it home. He made withes 
or ropes by twisting young cedar boughs, bound 
hind foot to fore foot on each side, and then 
worked himself inside of and beneath the car¬ 
cass; that is, bear’s body on human back, bear’s 
head above human head and bear’s arms around 
and under human arms. In this manner the 
game was carried down the valley. 
It seemed then and still seems to have been 
a dangerous procedure, for the other hunters 
might have mistaken the dead animal for a liv¬ 
ing one, as it approached them. But no acci¬ 
dent happened, and the ranch was reached in 
(Continued on page 709.) 
