FOREST AND STREAM. 
53 
Jan. 12, 1907.] 
- . -=— • - 
when the vast sides of the mountains scoop 
1 up summer showers and empty them into it 
or pour out their flood of melted snow, it be¬ 
comes a deafening, roaring torrent, rushing 
straight ahead and sweeping all before it. 
The stream had recently been giving one of 
these demonstrations of its power, and we 
noted the effect. Although it was now only a 
spunky creek, often not more than thirty feet 
wide, we saw places where it had cut a channel 
a hundred yards wide, and eight feet deep. 
The water had even overflowed this channel 
sufficiently to fill wide stretches of woodland 
with deep layers of matted and tangled flood 
trash. There were limbs and trunks of trees, 
all with their bark torn off; planks, broken 
and split; sills of buildings with rusty spikes 
sticking out; tangled webs of wire fence; a 
broken wagon wheel, a half rotted sap-trough, 
and in one place we found the skeleton of a 
sheep'. All this was bedded together with 
dried grass and weeds. Sometimes the creek 
had turned to one side and cut out circular 
cave banks, against the downstream side of 
r which such masses of rubbish had lodged and 
were floating. As the water swept under them 
the foam would be skimmed and banked up 
in dirty yellow drifts. 
The stream presented a most striking picture 
in contrast to its surroundings. It was so 
active, so changeable, so busy, while every¬ 
thing along its shores was-resting or sleeping. 
The bright green meadows and pastures 
stretched back from the banks, unruffled by 
any breeze. Cows lay in the shade of motion¬ 
less trees and chewed their cuds, while their 
heads rocked back and forth in lazy response 
to each succeeding breath. In front of many 
houses dogs slept with their chins resting on 
their forelegs or dozed, too indolent to more 
than roll a dull eye after the bumblebee that 
droned athwart their vision. The team that 
should have been plowing stood still in the 
furrow, while the driver leaned against the 
handles of the plow as he felt in one pocket 
after another for his plug of tobacco. The 
birds had sung themselves out in the morning, 
and having fed their young, were resting 
silently among the clustering leaves. Old men 
with their chairs tipped back nodded, while 
their pipes went out. 
The only thing that moved except the creek 
was time, and we would not have known that 
except that the shadows of the mountains kept 
reaching out further and further across the 
flat and the stream, and then began the long 
climb up the verdant sides of the opposite 
slope. From a fishing point of view, the after¬ 
noon had not been a success. There are days 
when trout will not bite, and the affidavit of 
many a foot-sore angler can be brought in 
support of that assertion. However, the re¬ 
membrance of such a scene will stay with one 
long after he has forgotten the disappointment 
at the poor luck, and may serve for a ray of 
sunshine on some bleak winter’s day. 
We had just returned to camp, when Henry 
came trudging in with a gun over his shoulder 
and a pail of fresh buttermilk.in his hand. He 
had been out looking up the woodchuck sub¬ 
ject, and after shooting one had swapped it 
with a farmer for the buttermilk. This trans¬ 
action started a precedent, and was repeated 
often enough to keep not only our own but the 
farmer’s peculiar taste satisfied. 
We had scarcely finished supper and lighted 
our pipes when the man we called Hickory 
came stumping through the dry leaves with a 
friend of his who was made from about the 
same- kind of timber. Hickory was some¬ 
where along in the fifties, not very tall, but 
ruggedly built, and his firm mouth and heavy 
chin would have given him rather a severe 
look had not the wrinkles of his weather¬ 
beaten face all run in the good-natured direc¬ 
tion. 
He was a typical specimen of a thrifty 
mountain teamster. One of a large class in 
that section who own the teams they drive 
and will take a contract to draw anything, from 
cordwood to a stone weighing a score of tons, 
off from the seemingly inaccessible sides of 
■ / 
/ . 
4 
SMALL DREDGERS LAID UP IN SUMMER AT HOOPER’S ISLAND. 
Photograph by Raymond S. Spears. 
the steepest mountain. Such men will ride a 
load of logs or quarried stones down hills 
and over roads which make artillery drill seem 
like a tame pastime. Subject to all manner of 
accidents, happening often when they are 
alone, they become very self-possessed and re¬ 
sourceful. While these men often have* a 
mild manner of speaking, there is a certain 
directness and force to their remarks which 
one recognizes as being the result of confi¬ 
dence in their own power. 
The greeting of these two men was none the 
less cordial for being undemonstrative, and we 
seated them where we could get the full benefit 
of seeing the camp-fire shine on their bronzed 
faces. Such visits had been expected, and in 
the trunk were bottles kept for the occasion, 
one of which was now produced. There were 
no glasses, but that did not matter so long as 
the bottle was properly filled, and teacups an¬ 
swered very well. After the customary com¬ 
pliments about the quality of the refreshments 
and the smacking of lips had died out, we set¬ 
tled down to visit. 
The" first thing we wanted *to know about 
was the accident which accounted for Hick¬ 
ory’s clumsy walk. We had heard in a general 
way about it, and knew he had shown good 
nerve in getting out of it; but we wanted his 
own version of the experience. 
“Now, Hickory,’’ said Henry, “before we • 
get on to any other subject, just go at it and 
tell us all about your getting hurt. The way 
it was told to us, it sounded like a close shave.” 
“Well,” said Hickory, looking down at his 
feet and moving them a little as he spoke of 
their unnatural shape, “it was a close call for 
that end of me. You see, my teams was draw- 
in’ stone from the new quarry up on Cold- 
brook Mountain, and they was gettin’ out 
some pretty big ones there. They got out one 
that measured up thirteen tons, and I told the 
boys I’d ride that down myself. I shut up a 
couple of wagons (took the reaches out, and 
coupled the front and rear axles as closely to¬ 
gether as the wheels would allow) and put 
railroad ties on for bed-pieces. Then I put a 
timber across the bed-pieces on each wagon 
for bolsters and hitched the wagons together. 
When the stone was loaded it lay as light as a 
feather on the bolsters, and I sat on the front 
end of it, with my feet on the bed-pieces. We 
had to brake it pretty tight, for the road is 
terrible steep; but we got down the mountain 
all right, and most out to the unloadin’ der¬ 
rick without so much as bustin’ a trace chain. 
Then, all of a sudden, the hind ex of the front 
wagon went down and let the stone dip for¬ 
ward. It caught my feet and doubled them up 
against the bed-pie.ces just as easy as if they’d 
been yarn mittens. 
“There wasn’t but two men there—my boy^ 
and another fellow—and they tried every way 
they ccfuld think of to git me loose; but they 
couldn’t budge that stone, and I was afraid 
they was goin’ to kill themselves pryin’ and 
liftin’. All the time there stood that derrick, 
not more than a hundred feet away, that could 
lift it just as easy as you’d lift a piece of pie, 
but it wan’t no use to us. Well,'after about 
twenty minutes I see they couldn’t do it no 
way, and I told them to give me an ax. Then 
I held it in one hand and chipped and split 
a notch out of the tie under one foot big 
enough so that it let it loose. You see the tie 
was so wide that - there was timber left to 
hold the stone after I’d cut out a chunk the 
width of my foot. I did it myself, for I was 
afraid the men would cut my foot, they were 
so excited and flustered with their liftin’ and 
strainin’. When I’d. got one out, they see how 
it, was done, and was some cooled down, so 
they cut the other out, for I couldn’t use the ax 
left-handed. 
“When the doctor got there,” Hickory con¬ 
tinued, “and said he could fix my feet up with¬ 
out cuttin’ um off, I was pretty tickled, for 
they didn’t look much better than mincemeat 
to start on. That’s why I hain’t been here 
before. I heard you fellows was here, but I 
couldn't get around much, and now my shoes 
are half full of stuffing to fill out the parts 
that’s gone.” •« 
We were very glad to find Hickory so nearly 
recovered, for our early accounts of the acci¬ 
dent had given us forebodings. 
The visit drifted from one subject to an¬ 
other, until we noticed that Hickory was rather 
more particularly dressed than usual. His 
cjothing had a newness about it, and there was 
a little dash of bright color in his necktie 
which gave us suspicions. The suspicions 
pointed to a certain widow whom we had 
heard of. Just as they were taking their part¬ 
ing drink, Henry put his hand on Hickory’s 
sleeve, and patting the new cloth, asked some 
question^ about the widow. . Then the man 
who had courage enough to cut himself out 
from under a thirteen-ton stone, blushed and 
stammered like a school boy. 
Winfield T. Sherwood. 
[to BE CONTINUED.] 
ROUGHING IT 
soon grows tiresome unless the food is good. Good milk 
is one item indispensable to a cheerful camp, and 
Borden’s solves the problem. Borden’s Eagle Brand 
Condensed Milk and Peerless Brand Evaporated Milk 
keep indefinitely, anywhere, and fill every milk or cream 
requirement. Beware of cheap imitations.— Adv. 
