Oct. 16. 1909.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
G09 
all. She just came up, turning away in the air, 
and after the first jump, disappeared over some 
down-timber. 
. Before returning to the home camps, we 
made a side trip to Luther Pond. Fred wished 
to learn how much damage had been done by 
fire, for during the summer smoke had several 
times been seen rising from that locality. One 
night was spent at the cabin on Big Fish Pond. 
We were disappointed not to find enough pro¬ 
visions there, and next morning it was neces¬ 
sary to try to get some fresh meat. The carry 
from Big Fish Pond to Muskrat Pond is not 
long. Stopping midway, however, to rest and 
enjoy the woods, I had a short call from a pair 
of pine grosbeaks. For a few minutes they re¬ 
mained quietly on a branch above me in clear 
view, and their bright plumage and friendly 
manner were a sure identification. 
Pushing out into Muskrat Pond was not easy, 
as the water was only about two inches deep, 
and below it soft mud of unknown depth. 
However, after a few minutes’ work, and just 
as we were approaching the island, a deer 
splashed and disappeared behind the wooded 
point on the left. The white flag above the 
! -sptesh-was all I saw. A few seconds later I 
noticed a movement in the bush, and there, to 
my surprise, was the deer, a small doe, looking 
intently at us. As she stamped her foot and 
hesitated, I slowly raised the rifle; it was a 
perfect shot, the deer standing, as in a frame, 
centered between two straight pines. At the 
report she dashed off; soon after came a low 
crash. We landed, and easily following the trail 
for about one hundred yards, found her dead. 
She made her last leap through some thick- 
brush, and then had fallen in a heap. Fred said 
that this was just the meat he wanted; also that 
he had never seen a better gun for deer hunt¬ 
ing than my .38 with the full magazine. He 
felt so good over our luck that he cleaned the 
deer and cut out all the meat without asking 
any help from me. 
The trail from Muskrat Pond to Luther is 
mostly through a hardwood growth. This 
country looked as if it were a splendid hunt¬ 
ing ground, but Fred only stopped once to show 
me where a moose had been browsing; a large 
sapling had been ridden down and stripped. 
Arriving at Luther Pond, we had difficulty in 
making camp, as the fire had been on our side 
and there was nothing standing for two hun¬ 
dred yards. Splendid timber, which had only 
been burned out at the roots, had fallen over 
into the water along the shore. A young guide 
had come in here with two men to photograph 
deer, and he failed to put out his camp-fire. 
After a long tramp with a canoe and heavy 
packs, the work of making camp amid this 
destruction was a tough job. In order to 
launch the canoe, Fred chopped off the upright 
branches of a big spruce which stretched its 
length well out into the lake. These green 
boughs were handy, so we used them in making 
our rough camp. The little lean-to was built 
on the burnt ground, the upturned roots of the 
same big spruce nearby and its trunk over¬ 
head. In order to get fresh water or to go off 
in the canoe, one simply jumped up on the tree 
and walked out to deep water. By the time we 
were washed and comfortable, darkness had 
come on. Soon the night grew still and clear 
with brilliant moonlight. Although I could see 
nothing from camp, a great deal was going on 
around the lake. Directly opposite there must 
have been a beach, as we could hear a deer 
walking, its hoofs striking the stones. Then 
two owls began to hoot. One was the barred 
owl, an old acquaintance in the woods, and the 
other sounded similar to the little screech owl, 
but not so mournful. As soon as their duet 
ceased,' Fred hooted for an encore and he got 
it. Presently almost above 11s came a loud 
“Hoo-ah,” our friend, like the prima donnas, 
favoring us with only the last portion of his 
GOING TO BIG FISH POND. 
THE UNLICENSED GUIDE. 
BALD MOUNTAIN STREAM. 
long hoot—proving that he must have had a 
musical training. Then followed quite an ex¬ 
citing conversation with the owl, made up of 
soft Indian breathings and sounding like “Wha, 
wha.” The long hoot is, “Hoo-hoo, ha-hoo, 
hoo, hoo, ha-hoo-ah.” 
There was too much doing for sleep, and as 
our camp was shut in by the down-timber, we 
slid out in the .canoe. Following the western 
shore line around, which was brilliant from the 
contrast of moonlight and deep shadow, we 
scared out a deer. I only saw a gray streak 
for an instant as the deer jumped the bank into 
the brush. Undoubtedly it had been standing 
still watching our. approach. 
Paddling east across the lake, just as we were 
entering the deep shadow of a bay, the canoe 
scattered a flock of ducks. Not all were 
frightened into flight, a few simply gliding off 
to either side, uttering a low wheezing sound, 
similar to a child playing on a comb. I was 
able to see that they were common shelldrakes. 
Moreover, they were too much in evidence the 
next day, as two or three of them were always 
between us and the deer when we were trying 
to float up within range. 
Passing on into the shadow of the woods, 
presently I could hear along shore ahead the 
intermittent splashes of big game. I was ex¬ 
pecting to see a moose any instant, when sud¬ 
denly Fred began to say things, jarring the 
silence about us. Was I blind? Had I missed 
a good shot? A thin mist was drifting lightly 
about over the water. Looking up at the tree- 
tops, I saw that we had stopped. The game 
walked out and on up into the forest. I never 
asked whether it was a moose. Fred simply 
swung the canoe out into the bright light and 
quickly paddled back to camp. I was soon 
rolled up in my blanket and listening to the 
borers at work in the dead log at my side. The 
next thing I knew the morning chill was upon 
us, and Fred was chopping. 
Most of this day was spent in the canoe, 
watching the lake for deer. One big buck 
fooled 11s nicely. We were watching two big 
old does which were feeding at the head of a 
long slough. After some time, precisely what 
we were wishing might happen, out of the 
woods across the logan jumped a fine buck. 
He took two jumps past an opening and dis¬ 
appeared behind some brush, heading for the 
does. Fred pushed out, heading for the does 
also, whereupon the buck jumped back again 
into the woods and was gone. He must have 
sighted us at the same time we saw him; then 
stopping, he saw our movement. It was im¬ 
possible for him to have caught our wind. My 
last impression was of a fine set of antlers, the 
biggest I had ever seen. Selah! 
Exploring the logan, we found the tracks of 
a big moore. Twice during the day I attempted 
to photograph deer, but was unable to get with¬ 
in range, the ducks being on guard. Instead 
of rising up- out of the lake and flying off, these 
shelldrakes would either begin to paddle di¬ 
rectly toward the deer, or else across in front 
as though playing cross-tag; or they would flap 
along, their wings and feet striking the water 
and aparently trying to make as much noise 
as possible. They probably need a stiff breeze 
ahead to start quickly. 
Before breaking camp on the second morn¬ 
ing, we attempted to paddle up to a young buck 
on an open beach. On account of the wind we 
were obliged to approach him from open water, 
thus being in clear view. At first sight of us 
he acted as though he wished to be snapped. 
Stalking straight down the beach toward us, 
he placed both front feet stiffly on a big stone 
at the water’s edge and stood there eyeing us. 
He was a proud sight for a minute or so; but 
before his image appeared in the finder he 
turned, and with his long, white flag on high, 
bounced off into the deep woods. 
The return trip to Heald Pond was unevent¬ 
ful, except for the little joys that come to him 
