4 G 5 
March 19, 1910.] 
Canoeing Down the Connecticut. 
(Concluded from page 426.) 
Between here and Bellows Falls, a distance of 
fourteen miles, we found deep water. The 
shores were covered with groves of pine trees 
and everything was quiet and solitude. Here 
and there could be seen the gabled ^oof or 
chimney of some summer house protruding 
above the trees. As we approached Bellows 
Falls immense piles of logs were seep on the 
left-hand side and the railroad opposite. The 
falls is directly beneath the steel bridge, and we 
landed about a hundred feet above it at one of 
the small launch docks on the western shore. 
Before wandering about the town, we made 
arrangements with the Baggage and Parcel Ex¬ 
press to carry our canoe and outfit around the 
falls. The carry is about one-half mile, and the 
charge is fifty cents. Fairly swift water was 
found for some distance below the falls with oc¬ 
casionally a shallow place. Some ten or twelve 
miles below is a small town called Putney Falls, 
and between there and Westmoreland we lo¬ 
cated an excellent campsite on the right-hand 
shore just below the ferry, a flat boat drawn 
with a heavy rope by hand. From this point 
down to the new' power house the river is very 
wide and deep, owing to the backed up water 
caused by the dam. The banks were mostly 
high and dense groves of pine trees bordeplhe 
river on both sides. At the suspension bridge 
there were formerly very dangerous rapids, but 
since the new dam has been built, they are en¬ 
tirely covered, and the river has the appear¬ 
ance of a beautiful lake. 
After passing Brattleboro, we were on the 
alert, expecting every minute to see the falls, 
but they did not put in an appearance until 
we had gone a few miles further. Then the 
river spreads out and covers the country for 
miles around, forming a small archipelago; 
some islands being high and dry, some partly 
submerged. The country about here was very 
low, until we came to a place that looked as if 
a mountain or two had been dropped into the 
river, leaving only one small opening a hundred 
yards or so wide, where the dam has been 
placed. On the right-hand side is situated the 
new Brattleboro power house, and this is well 
worth going through. We had a little difficulty 
in getting past here, owing to the log jam, but 
with the assistance of some logmen we suc¬ 
ceeded in making a landing within a dozen feet 
of the. power house. 
This carry we made ourselves, and it was very 
disheartening work. First we climbed up a 
rocky bank, and then down another steep one 
of sand, so that our feet sank into it up to the 
ankles at every step. The boss logman said 
that we could have made a carry on the other 
shore over a small hill that- would have been 
much easier and saved us a couple of miles 
paddling, owing to the bends of the river. But 
there was fast water below the falls, and we 
felt repaid for our extra work, that night we 
camped within a few miles of the Massachusetts 
State line. 
Owing to the activity of those hardy river 
men, who had worked all night, the logs were 
going past our camp at great speed next morn¬ 
ing when we arose. But we were not anxious 
for another log jam so soon after the one we 
had just gone through, so a hasty breakfast was 
prepared and the trip resumed. After dodging 
the floating logs for a couple of hours, we 
stopped at a spring opposite Northfield, where 
Dwight L. Moody’s summer conferences are 
held. It is easily identified by four large bridges 
which cross the river at this place. A few 
miles further and we came to the rapids at the 
head of French King. The time we went down 
the logs were jammed on both sides of the 
river, leaving only a narrow passageway along 
the shore. A few logs went over the rapids, and 
finally we tried it. The sensation was great 
until we came to a sharp bend, and things 
looked like a smashup. but luckily the current 
carried us safely'around it. After going through 
some deep water we came to the last boom 
that was stretched across the river, which meant 
the last log jam. The foreman of a gang of 
FOREST AND STREAM 
river drivers said that there were over a million 
feet of lumber at this one place. 
The section of the river around French King 
is one of the prettiest on the Connecticut River. 
It derives its name from the mountain which 
rises so majestically above the river at this 
point. The entrance is through a rocky canon, 
the walls of which are composed of reddish, 
stone. Then the river widens out again into 
a deep basin with great groves, of trees on both 
sides, which form ideal camping places. Just 
below here is Turner’s Falls, which are too 
dangerous to run. On the left hand up-stream 
side of the big red suspension bridge we found 
a sandy beach, where the carry was started. A 
short distance down the river road is a black¬ 
smith’s shop, where we telephoned for Mc¬ 
Carthy to send a wagon. Everybody seems to 
know him; he is the truckman, real estate agent, 
undertaker, and besides that a jolly good fel¬ 
low. The charge for the carry was $1. On 
the way to Montague City he told us that a 
half dozen people had drowned during the past 
season in attempting to shoot the rapids. 
A supply of provisions was laid in, including 
a good sized steak, so that after paddling down 
the river some distance, to be away from the 
town, we broiled our meat over an open fire, 
in spite of a drizzling rain that had begun to 
fall. 
When we arose the next morning it was still 
raining, but being anxious to reach Holyoke, we 
donned our rubber coats and started, but some¬ 
what late, owing to negligence on the part of 
the sun, which, as usual, failed to awake us. 
The river there is very uninteresting. The 
banks are nothing but sand piles, almost, entirely 
void of vegetation or trees, and the river bed 
was full of sandbars which landed us high and 
dry every few minutes. As the river turned and 
twisted, in its course describing a crawling 
snake, the only point of interest was the man¬ 
ner in which the small birds built their nests 
in the sandhills, always close to the top, so 
that the river at high water could not reach 
them. The sand banks with the little holes 
leading to the bird nests looked as though they 
had served as a back stop for some military 
shooting ground. 
Neither felt much like eating in the ram. but 
when we passed a picnic ground in the after¬ 
noon where a clambake.had been prepared, our 
stomachs immediately instituted syit for sup¬ 
port. On investigation we found, to our utter 
despair, that in spite of the weather a larger 
crowd had attended than expected and every¬ 
thing had been eaten. Mount Tom soon hove 
in sight, and we took on renewed vigor with 
good hopes of reaching Holyoke by sunset, but 
after passing the' big mountain a number of 
times, we finally camped that night with Mount 
Tom still ahead of us. We had difficulty in lo¬ 
cating a good- campsite, owing to the sandy 
nature of the banks, and everything looked dis¬ 
agreeable, owing to the rain, but by using two- 
foot stakes and placing stones on them, our 
little tent was made secure. 
With the desire to get around Mount Tom, 
we arose early the next morning, and after the 
usual good breakfast and with sleeves rolled up, 
we set out. The sun shone brightly and every¬ 
thing looked beautiful after the day of rain, 
even the scenery along the banks had improved 
wonderfully, and instead of sandy banks we 
row saw beautifhl groves of trees and an 
abundance of red stone, while every now and 
then the roof of some partly obscured summer 
house showed above the green. It was not 
e-cry long before we came upon the Holyoke 
•Canoe Club, situated on the western bank of 
the river. A short stop was made there to get 
our mail and to inspect the clubhouse. It is 
an immense affair and can be seen for miles 
around. They had a membership of about, four 
hundred, and a large fleet of boats, but judg¬ 
ing from the number of launches and motor 
boats we saw, the spirit of canoeing seems to 
have gotten lost among some of the four hun¬ 
dred. , 
After another short paddle we came to the 
town proper, where our canoe and outfit were 
left at one of the many canoe houses on the 
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