58 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
f Jan. ii, 1908- 
Hunting at Sourdnahunk. 
Baltimore, Md„ Nov. 30 .-Editor Forest and 
Stream: A visit to Maine was hastily decided 
upon about the first of October and the journey 
began on the 16th. 
The locality chosen was Sourdnahunk Lake, 
one of the best fishing resorts in Maine and the 
center of a large territory of woods and moun¬ 
tain remote from the traveled routes and difficult 
of access. The train arrived at Norcross on the 
17th, and after a hasty change from boiled shirt 
to flannel and from shoes to moccasins, the boat 
for Ambajejos was boarded and a fourteen-mile 
steam journey up South Twin and Pemadum- 
cook lakes was begun. It was at Ambajejos that 
the first trophies were seen—a bear hide and a 
small moose head, both killed the day before. 
The journey was resumed in a canoe, and tie 
Penobscot West Branch was followed through 
Debsconeagon and on up to Daisey’s Katahdin 
View Camp, where a good supper of venison 
and potatoes was had and the night was spent 
in a comfortable bed. 
The next day by half past six the canoe 
route was resumed to the first camp around 
some impassable rapids, and after six miles o 
gorgeous scenery, the landing at the mouth of 
Sourdnahunk stream was reached. Here began 
the toughest job of its kind the writer can re¬ 
member, 14/2 miles of churned-up tote road- 
mud, corduroy, rock and anything that nature 
has at hand to make it difficult to break into her 
secret places-and this undertaken with no 
preparation, in a perfectly soft condition and in 
an ill-fitting pair of oil-tanned moccasins which 
galled the feet after the first mile! No more 
moccasins for walking, indispensable though they 
are to hunt in. , , 
Daisey has a camp at the mouth of the stream, 
and here all unnecessary equipment was left to 
be taken up by the team in a day or two. Good 
time was made over the first 3/2 miles to York s 
camp on Daisey’s pond under the brow of Mt. 
Katahdin, a very impressive sight across this 
small but beautiful sheet of water. Katahdin rises 
to something over 5,000 feet, and the way up to 
the table land on the top is by a landslide, which 
makes one dizzy to look at it. 
It is said that the caribou are back there after 
years of absence, and for this the guides and 
sportsmen are very desirous. A drove of four¬ 
teen have been seen this year near the top of the 
mountain. 
The trail was resumed after dinner. Difficult 
places were encountered and walking became 
toil, especially the detours around mud holes 
and log walking over brooks. In the 14^2 miles 
up the stream to the lake there is a steady ascent 
of something like 1,200 feet. Toward the middle 
of the afternoon Daisey’s lower camp was 
reached, six miles from the lake, and here it 
would have been wiser to have spent the night, 
but no provisions had been made for this, there 
being no bedding at the camp and no provisions, 
so the journey was continued, night coming on, 
and the worst of the road yet to be traversed. 
A mile below this camp we had come upon a 
moose which, it turned out, had been killed by 
Messrs. Symmons and Allen, two gentlemen 
from St. Louis, who arrived unexpectedly at the 
camp on the 16th. They had killed him just off 
the tote road as they went in. 
The lower camp is in a good locality for game. 
It seems to be a sort of crossing point for 
moose from Katahdin to the Sourdnahunk range, 
the stream passing through the notch between 
the two mountains. Many tracks, both of 
moose and large deer, were seen in this im¬ 
mediate neighborhood. 
The balance of the journey was tough. The 
mud holes became worse and more frequent and 
the general condition of the trail tallied with 
Thoreau’s description of a Maine camp—with 
his cyclone sent through to put on the finishing 
touches. 
A small lumberman’s supply camp in charge of 
Mr. Lancey, a man of much experience in the 
woods and a keen sportsman, at the foot of the 
lake, was reached an hour after dark. We were 
told that there was one canoe with one short 
paddle at the dam, and that it was blowing a 
gale down the lake. Daisey said it would have 
to blow various kinds of a gale to make him foot 
it round the lake, 2^4 miles, when he could 
paddle, so we started off. It was quiet enough 
in the thoroughfare, but when we got out in 
the open water the fun began. I sat in the bow 
and held my tongue. The wind was straight 
ahead and squally. The waves came in one, two, 
three order, and the process of going down off 
a crest into the trough to meet an oncoming 
roller six feet high, the canoe diving almost to 
the gunwales and appearing just to keep above 
water, was not a pleasant sensation after such a 
day. 
That mile and a half across the lake took us a 
good hour and a quarter. In the squalls the 
canoe simply stood still, and Daisey’s great 
strength and skill were both put to the seveiest 
test. Luckily for us, we had a bright moon. 
I limped about the camp for two days, com¬ 
pletely crippled but feeling perfectly well other¬ 
wise. I fired my rifle a few times on Sunday 
and got an answering whistle from a buck just 
out back of the stable and outhouses-. A bobcat 
came yelling down to the inclosure that night 
and Daisey had to turn out to shut in his 
chickens. There were plenty of them about, and 
there is no reason why the trapping of some of 
them should not be made a part of the amuse¬ 
ment of a hunt, if only for the sake of the small 
game they destroy. 
The Maine forests are in the hands of the 
paper and lumber companies, and it is surpris¬ 
ing to see fine white spruce, twelve inches thick 
and over, cut for pulp. They are using the 
timber judiciously, cutting nothing less than 
twelve inches in the Sourdnahunk district, and 
improving the deer feed as they go. At the 
present rate there will be no total destruction 
of the Maine forests, and the wild conditions 
will always prevail. The deer come right in be¬ 
hind the choppers and feed off the moss on the 
tops of the felled trees within a hundred yards 
of the workers. 
The lumber camps, it appears, are a boon to 
our large cities. Labor is supplied by rounding 
up gangs of toughs and bums from Boston and 
elsewhere who are paid $30 to $35 a month and 
given comfortable quarters and healthful occu¬ 
pation. Perhaps this will be a solution of the 
house of correction problem. There are of 
course various grades of workmen in the woods, 
but these are the most inefficient. A man who can 
swing an ax gets better wages, and there are 
seasoned, experienced old fellows who get $100 
a month through the winter and $8.00 a day on 
the drive, all of which they get at one time, and 
often “blow it in” in a week in Bangor. 
Sourdnahunk stream is a great one for a 
drive—too rough and rapid for the canoe but 
with a good pitch o fwater and a hundred men 
along its fifteen miles the logs go down to the 
Penobscot a-scooting. The mills are located at 
Millanocket, a town of 10,000, six miles from 
Norcross'. 
After a few days at Sourdnahunk Lake, I went 
back to the lower camp on the stream where I 
had seen plenty of signs of deer and moose, but 
owing to the crisp, frosty weather, the woods 
were noisy and I only got sight of one buck, 
driven past me by Daisey, which I ignominiously 
missed at twenty-five yards. I attribute this to 
having experimented with my sights, having set 
them up to the second notch in order to get 
them finer. Thus at a running deer I shot over 
I have adopted the plan of sighting my rifle or 
the second notch at sixty yards for target prac¬ 
tice. Thus when I go into the woods I put it 
down, so that I see about half of the front sight 
including the ivory. This insures low, quid 
shooting, and is a very good plan for the citj 
man. 
The net result of the four days spent at th< 
lower camp was two raccoons, which wen 
roasted and eaten, and even pronounced th 
best food in the woods. The bane of camp lif 
is the universal practice of frying meats, and th 
sooner the guides find out that they can increas 
the atttraction of their camps by dropping one 
for all this wretched practice, the better it wi 
be for all concerned. A piece of moose 0 
venison laid directly on the stove lid, which ha 
been previously cleaned, and sufficiently cooke 
over a hot fire is delicious—better than th 
average one cooked over the coals—but frie 
meats lose their natural flavor and interfere wit 
digestion, weakening the victim, so that h 
capacity for work and enjoyment is impaired. 
The weather was against me. There was | 
full moon and the deer were feeding at night- 
besides which, the woods were very noisy. C 
Sunday ten deer were started along the Pattc 
tote road, but not one seen, except a glimpse < 
a flag. Some crashing of boughs and a sha: 
whistle of alarm was all we heard, although th' 
were within twenty yards of usT But in tl. 
middle of my last week there was a change, 
grew warmer, and on Wednesday afternoon 
began to rain. This was to our advantage, b 
just at dark it changed to hail and then to sno 
The ground was soft and full of water, 
snowed all night, and the next morning the 
were ten inches, and every tree and twig cart 
ing its burden. The woods were impassable a 
not a live creature was moving. Small spru 
trees were bent to the ground. The worst oi 
was that the snow, full of moisture as it was, v 
noisy, crunching under the feet and makif 
every step distinctly audible. I gave it up a 
stayed in camp. 
That night two men arrived—one a not 
guide, Will McLane, the other a friend of b 
an ex-guide, now a carpenter at Millanock- 
Daisey had bought the Sourdnahunk camp fr<» 
McLane. These two men had footed it fr<> 
Millanocket in two days, spending the first nifl 
at Katahdin View Camp, and doing the remain:! 
twenty-four miles over that fearful tote ro> 
unfrozen, and with ten inches of wet snow on ■ 
It was a most injudicious proceeding and v* 
