746 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May 7, 1910. 
ing not more than six ounces for the same area. 
Again, a detachable cloth is always available to 
roof a dining space. In a country where the 
noonday temperature often reaches the century 
mark, some sort of sun-shelter must be made if 
a stopover of a day or more is made, or else the 
meals must be eaten in the tent—a very unde¬ 
sirable condition. To my mind, however, the 
principal objection to sewing a floor cloth to the 
tent bottom is that it prevents one from brailing 
up the tent during the day. This brailing of 
the walls of the tent for a foot or so during the 
day is the only thorough method of airing it. 
On a hot night I like to sleep with the tent 
brailed all around. 
For himself, Siwash used one of the regular 
pattern canoe tents, made of balloon silk. This 
hybrid, part wall tent, part wedge tent and part 
tepee, in the 5x7 size which he used, should be 
a good tent tor cruising. Boots said there was 
not enough headroom in it for a woman. The 
fact that the single pole necessary is not placed 
in the center of the tent is an advantage, anu 
the wall in the rear adds more room than is 
apparent from an exterior survey. I think Si- 
.wash said the affair weighed eight pounds. The 
Schoolma’m borrowed from me an old “tarp” 
combination tent and sleeping bag which I’ had 
brought with me from Wyoming. This was a 
tarpaulin, 17x7 and made, with the addition of 
two door flaps, a 5 x 7 wedge tent with a canvas 
floor. It weighed but six pounds. I used to 
carry it rolled up with my slicker, tied to my 
saddle. The Schoolma’m’s tent was called the 
“boudoir,” practically all the hair-dressing of 
the trip being performed in it. 
The cooks had supper well under way when 
the job of putting up the tents was over, and an 
excellent meal it was. Siwash and I ate so 
heartily that it was with difficulty^ that we moved 
about afterward. Although it was dark when 
the dishes were cleaned up and put away, I de¬ 
cided to try my luck with the fly in the riffle in 
front of camp. Fifteen minutes of casting 
proved to me that no bass, at least no bass 
foolish enough to take my fly were there, so I 
proposed to Siwash that he paddle me down to 
the pool below and I would sit in the bow and 
fish. This was done. In a few minutes we had 
a half-pounder flopping around in the canoe. He 
rose to a brown-hackle. It was late, but we dis¬ 
liked to quit with but one fish. I finally put my 
flies up into a tree, which ended fly-fishing for 
the night. I carefully laid my rod on the shore 
under the tree and paddled back to camp. I 
might add that I pretty near forgot my outfit 
the next morning when we broke camp. 
With me the first night of a canoe cruise is 
never one of very sound sleep. The day’s ex¬ 
citement, the noise of the rapids but a few feet 
away, the insect chorus, the rubbing of limb 
against limb in the forest directly behind the 
tent, all combined kept me awake nearly all 
night. In the wee small hours I dropped off to 
sleep, only to dream of being pulled through the 
rapids by a pair of monster bass in double har¬ 
ness. 
Siwash woke me the next morning by chop¬ 
ping wood about eighteen inches from my head. 
I looked at my watch; 6 o’clock — whoopee! 
Shaking Boots and telling her to rouse out, I got 
into my clothes in an instant—not a remarkable 
feat at all: you could do the same with a like 
costume. Breakfast was hurried, camp broken, 
while the girls were washing the dishes, and in 
an hour we were off. As we shoved off I 
noticed my line and cast of flies dangling from 
a tree opposite and paddled over for them. 
Steeleville ridge, twenty miles away, was our 
destination. The river was about the same as 
the first day, and by noon the Schoolma’m, who 
had been detailed to keep count, had fourteen 
“walks” chalked up. One very bad place, re¬ 
quiring some engineering to pass, was encount¬ 
ered that morning. The river was choked with 
logs. Turning a sharp bend it formed a whirl¬ 
pool half out and half under a huge pile of 
brush. To shoot around was- impossible, as the 
canoes would assuredly have been carried under 
the brush. Crawling on his hands and knees 
over the logs, Siwash gained the other side. I 
tossed the tracking rope of his canoe over to 
him and he pulled the boat over. As the end 
of his canoe swung around into the whirlpool, 
it was almost upset. We had planned to pull my 
boat over in the same manner, and the girls in 
it, but when they saw the other canoe tossed 
around like an eggshell, they backed down de¬ 
cisively. So they walked, breaking a way through 
the underbrush down to a point below the bad 
water. I got over, hanging on the bow of my 
canoe, while Siwash held fast to the rope on the 
other side. Before lunch another particularly 
nasty rapid below an abandoned mill dam was 
shot, and a cave of some size explored. 
Springs of cold water I have met with many 
times in the Ozarks, but the water which issued 
in a large stream from that cave was the cold¬ 
est I ever put my bare feet into. The pool was 
deep and wide enough for both canoes to enter 
and we pushed them in right up to the mouth 
of the cave. As the bow of Honor touched the 
rocks I jumped out into the water, and instantly 
jumped back in. Whew! my toes doubled up 
with cramps. The water was actually too cold 
to drink. Yes, I know water freezes at 32 de¬ 
grees Fahrenheit. Perhaps there was some ele¬ 
ment in this water which enabled it to stand a 
lower temperature; at any rate the water was 
cold. We explored the cave for six or seven 
hundred yards, but having no light other than a 
folding candle lantern, we gave it up and re¬ 
turned to our boats. Lunch was prepared on a 
point of land at the mouth of Pine Branch, evi¬ 
dently near a farm, as we had a litter of per¬ 
sistent little pigs all about us as we ate. We 
were not obliged to start a fire to “boil the 
kettle,” Boots having filled the two-quart thermos 
bottles with hot tea the evening before. 
At 1:30 we shoved off again, and after two 
hours’ steady paddling through fast water, came 
to a pool where a party of women were bath¬ 
ing. One of them wore overalls, and as the 
canoes came around the bend above them, she 
made a frantic run for some large bushes. Two 
of the younger members of the swimming party 
afforded us some amusement by arguing, audibly 
over the sex of the Schoolma’m, one insisting 
that she was a girl, while the other was just as 
positive that she was a boy. 
Passing the bathers we shot a long, swift 
chute into a large pool, at the end of which was 
Steeleville Bridge. As it was but 4 p. m., Boots 
proposed that she and I walk to Steeleville and 
telephone home to see how our two-year-old 
baby boy was faring in the absence of his daddy 
and mammy. Camp was hurriedly pitched and 
we two put on the most respectable clothes we 
had with us and started down the track. The 
Schoolma’m shouted to us to bring back a por¬ 
terhouse steak and Siwash called for. a couple 
of bottles of beer. We promised to give atten¬ 
tion to both orders. What Boots and I thought 
would be a one-mile tramp turned out to. be a 
three and a half-mile grind, and when the little 
village was finally reached, Boots was all in. 
There was cause for her fatigue. All day she 
had been paddling hard and it was a little too 
much to finish the day with a long tramp over 
railroad ties. We telephoned to St. Louis from 
a drug store and were assured by mother that 
the little one was well. This helped to dispel 
some of Boots’ fatigue. We then hunted up a 
livery barn and engaged a rig to drive us back 
to the river. 
The butcher of Steeleville is a wit. I ordered 
a nice thick, tender steak. “What kind will you 
have,” says he, taking up his knife and steel in 
a business like way. Boots and I consulted to¬ 
gether. She said sirloin; I said tenderloin. 
After a few minutes’ of discussion as to the 
merits of each cut, we remembered that the 
Schoolma’m had ordered porterhouse; so we 
ordered porterhouse. Meanwhile the butcher 
joined in the argument and put in a word or 
two here and there as to what cut he thought 
was best. Upon hearing our decision he turned 
to a piece of round steak lying on his block 
and said: “Well, that’s about all I’ve got right 
now, but I’ll have some porterhouse in a few 
days.” We took round steak. Leaving the 
butcher’s shop, we blew ourselves to a glass of 
soda pop. I went on a scout for the village 
saloon which I found—closed up.- Soda pop I 
knew would be a poor substitute for beer, but I 
threw a few bottles of it in the rig for Siwash. 
[to be continued.] 
Atlantic Division. 
The first official cruise of the season will be 
down the Hackensack River from West Nyack, 
N. Y., to Hackensack, N. J., on May 14 and 15 - 
•The party will leave West Nyack on the arrival 
of the West Shore Railroad train, which leaves 
Desbrosses street, New York, at 2 p. m., Satur¬ 
day afternoon. Part of the trip will be made 
until night, when a camp will be located at 
Hemlock Grove. As this is a camping trip, the 
cruisers must bring their own outfits including 
tents and provisions. Sunday the balance of 
trip will be made, ending up at 7 P- m. in the 
dining room of the Hotel Susquehanna for a 
good dinner. E. V. Walker is chairman of the 
committee in charge, and is making arrange¬ 
ments for a good time. 
A meeting of the Associated Canoe Clubs of 
the Delaware was held at the Red Dragon 
Canoe Club on Saturday evening, April 16. 
Among other business, the various clubs de¬ 
cided to purchase racing canoes for club tours, 
to be used at inter-club regattas and A. C. A. 
meets. Detailed plans for the summer events 
will be arranged later. 
At the same time meetings of the Rancocas 
cruise committee, and the division meet regatta 
committee were held and general plans mapped 
out. 
This year considerable interest in canoeing is 
being displayed among all the clubs along the 
Delaware, which, if continued, bids fair to make 
successes of all the meets, regattas and cruises 
planned for the season. 
Frank T. Wilson, Purser. 
Memorial Day Cruise. 
The Atlantic Division boys of the A. C. A. 
are now whooping it up for the Rancocas cruise 
on Memorial Day, and the boys who are in the 
habit of using their canoes on the rivers only 
will find this cruise both nice and requiring 
some considerable skill. There is, however, no 
danger, and quite a few ladies will take part. 
The Rancocas is noted for its beautiful scenery, 
and Brown’s Mills in the pines, where the 
canoeists will assemble on Saturday, May 28, is 
one of the prettiest spots in New Jersey. On 
Sunday, the 29th, the program will be “down 
to Birmingham.” This will be the cream of the 
trip. After spending the night at Birmingham, 
Monday, the 30th, will be spent in going with 
the current to the Delaware, where launches 
will tow the tired and lazy ones to the end of 
the cruise, the Red Dragon Canoe Club. The 
committee invite all canoeists to participate and 
will cheerfully furnish detailed information. 
The committee consists of J. A. Edgar, Red 
Dragon C. C., Frankford, Pa.; Frederic An¬ 
dreas, Knickerbocker C. C.; Wm. P. Randall, 
Rancocas C. C.; W. C. D. Gaunt, Lacano B. C.; 
H. S. Lukens, Red Dragon C. C.; W. H. 
Mason, Rancocas C. C. 
A. C. A. Membership. 
NEW MEMBERS PROPOSED. 
Atlantic Division.—Leon E. Andrews, Plam- 
monton, N. J., by S. F. Dominick; Carleton E. 
Sholl, 339 High street, Burlington, N. J., by W. 
C. D. Gauntt. 
Eastern Division.—John C. Hayes, 677 Beech 
street, Manchester, N. H., by A. H. Crafts. 
NEW MEMBERS ELECTED. 
Central Division.—5996, Charles Ramey 
Jones, 302 Gray Building, Wilkinsburg, Pa.; 
5997, Robert E. Dennis, 814 Portland street, 
Pittsburg, Pa. _ 
Eastern Division.—5995, Harry C. Luce, P. 
O. Box 224, Arlington, Mass. 
