Feb. 12, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
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Advancing slowly, they gained the long rock 
and Frost looked over, then sank back again 
and communicated the surprising fact that no 
one was in the room below. One by one they 
took a good look at the room and felt con¬ 
vinced that it was vacant. On one of the tables 
was the leather book, scraps of paper were on 
the floor, and on one of the chairs lay a large 
•pair of scissors. 
Nathan volunteered to descend the ladder, the 
ethers to follow quickly and thus take posses¬ 
sion of the room. The ladder slanted enough 
to permit Thorn to descend face outward. In 
this position he crept down, rifle ready, and 
was immediately followed by his companions. 
Nathan seized the leather book, and Frost be¬ 
gan looking for an outlet from the room. At 
the south side of the room the rocky wall pro¬ 
jected over some feet, affording a deep shadow, 
“Yes, your hound came too near this place. 
It was the third time he had run this way, 
each time diving into the bushes at the mouth 
of the cave and looking suspicious. So he was 
killed at the first opportunity.” 
A thorough investigation followed, and all the 
tools, plates and inks for the manufacture of 
bogus bank notes were found; also a liberal 
supply of food, cigars and a jug of liquor. It 
was a curious fact that amid the excitement of 
the discovery and occupancy of the cave room 
and the shooting of a man that Nathan’s upper¬ 
most thoughts were of his dog. His tempera¬ 
ment, his concentration of thought and love 
of the dog may explain this. Ordinarily under 
the circumstances related, thoughts of the dog 
would not occur to the average individual. 
The prisoners were brought out and jailed. 
An inquest was held on the dead man and 
Winter Rain in the Forest. 
A warm rain in the winter woods brings a 
marked change in the forest aspect. It produces 
detail, contrast and shadow. 
The first advance of a thaw is marked by the 
falling of small bits of snow which rested lightly 
upon limbs and twigs. As the warm air settles 
the snow, larger and larger masses fall, but it 
is after the rain has begun that the greatest 
chunks slide to the ground. These large pieces 
cling to the broad, stiff spruce and balsam 
branches, as well as to partly fallen trees. 
The falling of water-soaked snow is accom¬ 
panied by the snapping of many twigs, dead 
branches and sound limbs. Many of the lower 
branches are dead because the overhanging 
leaves of summer shut out the light from them. 
1 hese are broken by the pieces of snow. 
THE ADIRONDACK WOODS AFTER A SNOWSTORM. 
so that persons standing in the shadow could 
not be seen by others entering the room from 
the west side. Hardly daring to move, all the 
party listened with suppressed excitement for 
the slightest alarm. Frost had just suggested 
exploring the western outlet, when all heard 
footsteps approaching. Quickly retreating to 
the shadow of the overhanging rock, they 
waited. Half a minute more and the heavy set 
man, carrying a lantern, entered, followed by 
the man in dark clothes, both smoking good 
cigars. The man in dark clothes came around 
to the end of the table next the shadow and 
then possibly catching the glint of weapons or 
feeling the near presence of an enemy, sprang 
back with a cry and drew a pistol. It was his 
last voluntary movement—a rifle cracked and he 
fell dead. Instantly the thick set man was over¬ 
powered and tied in a chair. Hearing the shot, 
two more of the gang appeared and were well 
in the room before they realized they were 
prisoners. 
“Where is the man that shot my hound?’ 
asked Nathan. 
“There he lies,” said the thick set man,” 
pointing to the dead man. 
“Do you know why he killed him?” 
Nathan Thorn, who shot him, was exonerated. 
In the then small villages of Glenham and 
Matteawan the affair caused much excitement, 
and the discoverers of the cave and captors of 
counterfeiters were lionized, all furnishing a 
topic of conversation for many a day. Very 
old people may still remember the counter¬ 
feiters. 
The story was finished, and after one more 
pipe, my companion and I retired. The next 
evening as the October sun was sinking behind 
the Catskills, we stood on the verge of Solo¬ 
mon’s Barrack rock and enjoyed the exquisite 
beauty of the scene twelve hundred feet above 
the valley of the Hudson. The whole valley 
was bathed in the mellow light. The river was 
like a broad band of silver, and not a breath of 
wind stirred the sails of the different river craft. 
Presently the whole valley sank into twilight, 
and the sun dropped from sight behind the dis¬ 
tant mountain peaks, lighting up with indescrib¬ 
able beauty the billowy clouds above it. We 
stood" fully enjoying this magnificent sunset, and 
only turned our steps homeward when twilight 
began to deepen into night. 
Healthy evergreen branches are sometimes 
stripped from the trunk because their burden 
becomes so saturated with water that they can¬ 
not bear the weight. The noise of much crack¬ 
ing and smashing is heard when a heavy mass 
at the top of a balsam breaks its supporting limb 
and falls, increasing in size and weight from 
added masses. 
Ordinarily the snapping of a twig promises 
the presence of an animal—a squirrel, a porcu¬ 
pine, or a deer—but a thawing day increases the 
noises as well as the things to be seen. 
The thawing influence of the warm air broad¬ 
ens all tracks. Thus a rabbit track spreads out 
to the size of a lynx track, the weasel’s becomes 
the size of a mink's footprints and the porcu¬ 
pine’s wallowings broaden to the width of a 
toboggan trail. 
Perhaps the most inspiring thing to be ob¬ 
served in a backwoods thaw is the fog caused 
by the contact of the warm air with the air 
cooled by the snow. The fog sometimes hovers 
along the treetops, sometimes settles to the 
ground. Often the snow steams like a flood of 
lava. At other times the fog drives over the 
snow like the smoke of a forest fire. 
Eldridge A. Spears. 
