bit 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[April 18, 1908. 
where, and the idle world found entertainment 
in his books, or listened - entranced to his un¬ 
ostentatious conversational lectures. He went 
the circuit of the Levant, crossed deserts, climbed 
mountains and lived with the real Arabs long 
enough to learn their history, get a glimpse of 
the splendid past which then seemed only a dim 
and speculative tradition, and mark with un¬ 
disguised admiration the hope and belief in a 
future for their neglected country. A few ex¬ 
tracts from this once famous author will, no 
doubt, be welcome to those who have not read 
the “travels in the original. Asia’s “extreme 
southwestern corner,” he begins, notwithstand¬ 
ing the fact that “parts of it are mentioned in 
the oldest historical records, and its shores were 
probably familiar to the earliest navigators, the 
greater portion of its territory has always re¬ 
mained almost inaccessible and unknown; the 
greater part of the entire territory, of more than 
one raillidn square miles, l.es within the 
tropics.” 
[to BE CONTINUED. 1 
Motor Boat Race to Bermuda. 
While not formally entered, two boat owners 
have signified their intentions to start on the 
ocean race to Bermuda on June 6. Time allow¬ 
ance will be figured at 50 per cent, of the 
American Power Boat Association table, the 
distance to be assumed at 650 miles for figuring 
allowances. 
The Ferro Machine and Foundry Co., of 
Cleveland Ohio, have gotten out a very com¬ 
plete and instructive pamphlet that besides ex¬ 
plaining their particular make of engines gives 
many valuable bits of information exceedingly 
instructive to one who contemplates buying a 
gasolene motor. It is really more of a text book 
for motor boat people than it is a catalogue. 
K X <t 
The Carleton Canoe Co., of Old Town, Me., 
have just issued a very interesting catalogue of 
all kinds of canoes, giving sizes and prices that 
are so reasonable anyone can afford to enjoy the 
pleasure of being on the water. This well 
known firm make everything in the canoe line 
from the single canoe to the twelve-man war 
canoe or motor canoe with from 1 y 2 to 3P2 
horsepower motors installed in them. 
* 
W. Starling Burgess Company, Ltd., has suc¬ 
ceeded the late firm of Burgess & Packard in the 
vacht building and naval architect and engineer 
business at Boston. Mr. John R. Purdon is 
manager and Mr. H. A. Hawthorn is in charge 
of the brokerage department. 
Canoeing. 
A. C. A. Fixtures. 
Aug. 7-21.—A. C. A. Camp.—Sugar Island, St. Lawrence 
River. 
July 10-24.—Western Division Camp.—Spring Lake, 
Grand Haven. Mich. 
May 29-31.—Eastern Division Racing Meet.—Horn Pond, 
Woburn, Mass. 
—.—Atlantic Division Cruise.—Hackensack River. 
-.—AtlanticDivision Cruise.—Delaware River. 
2-.—Atlantic Division Cruise.—Rancocas Creek. 
-.—Atlantic Division Camp.—Hermit Point, Hud¬ 
son River. 
—.—Central Division Cruise and Camp.-* 
Allegheny River. 
HOW TO JOIN THE A. C. A. 
Article III. of Constitution.—Membership.—Any gen¬ 
tleman over the age of eighteen, and a competent swim¬ 
mer, may become an active member of this Association 
fourteen (14) days after his application has been an¬ 
nounced by the treasurer in one of the official organs 
of the Association, and approved, as provided. 
(Note: Forest and Stream is the official organ.) 
Chapter I. of By-Laws—Membership.—Sec. 1. Applica¬ 
tion for membership shall be made to the treasurer, and 
shall be accompanied by the recommendation of an 
active member and by the sum of two dollars, one dollar 
as entrance fee and one dollar as dues for the current 
year, to be refunded in case of non-election of the ap¬ 
plicant. 
Officers of the Divisions and secretaries of the various 
clubs are requested to forward dates chosen for camps, 
cruises, club openings, regattas, and other items of 
interest for publication. The selection of dates well in 
advance may prevent clashing at times. 
Canoeing Down the Connecticut. 
Concluded from page 5S6. 
When Lou and I paddled back to camp, what 
was our surprise to see a full-grown tree spread¬ 
ing its branches over that pebbly beach, where 
we had left only bareness. On reaching the 
camp the secret came out. Billy and Bert had 
gone back on the island and cut a large tree, 
hauled it down to the river’s edge, and planted 
it securely in the ground for us to attach our 
tent canvas to. That night we spent more time 
around our camp-fire than usual, for we had 
gotten supper over earlier, and after sing.ng 
every song we could think of, and telling every 
story we knew, we ended the evening by having 
a pretty close imitation of an Indian war dance 
around the fire. 
Saturday morning we made an early start, 
and by noon had reached Hadley. It is one 
mile across the town to the river again, but 
we had to paddle seven to reach there. That 
afternoon we made Northampton, and just be¬ 
low the bridge struck the log jam fairly and 
squarely—some fifty million feet of lumber 
stretching from shoie to shore, and blocking up 
the whole river. After pushing the logs aside 
and working our way through them for a short 
distance we finally had to give up and land 
our canoes on the shore, for it was impossible 
to get through them, and the jam extended in 
length about a quarter of a mile. Besides, we 
were being burned up with the heat of the sun, 
and by the time we had again put up the tents, 
we were too tired and warm to prepare supper 
and the water was too far down to r^ach with¬ 
out great effort, so we decided to go into North¬ 
ampton for a ready-made meal. We were di¬ 
rected to a dear little Dutch tea room, beauti¬ 
fully furnished, and having the daintiest of blue- 
and-white china, and the finest of linen on the 
little tables. We were not sure whether they 
would serve such a disreputable-looking crowd, 
but when the'waitress—a sweet, lady-like girl— 
came to us, we were half afraid it was to tell us 
that we would have to look elsewhere, but she 
smilingly asked if we had been fishing on the 
river. It is necessary to tell of the good things 
we had for dinner, and how it revived our 
flagging spirits, even if it was nearly ten o’clock, 
and we still had all our shopping to do, and the 
next day Sunday, and camp two miles away. 
But after waiting on the curb stone and loaded 
down with packages, or else holding up the 
fence of this prosperous college town, for nearly 
an hour, our car came along to take us part 
way. And then to add to our troubles, the con¬ 
ductor did not stop at the near side of the 
bridge, but rushed us all the way across and we 
had to walk back in the pitejiy blackness and 
along the river’s edge through high grass, which 
trioned us up every now and then. 
The next morning we awoke after a fine 
night’s sleep with the sun streaming down on 
us and the temperature about 95. There was 
not a tree in sight, and so we ate our breakfast 
under the tent, which was fastened to the pole 
of a hay-rake, and were all comfortably enjoy¬ 
ing ourselves, when of a sudden the pole came 
down, hitting Billy on the back of the head and 
upsetting our huckleberries and milk and en¬ 
veloping us in canvas. When we found that 
Billy was not badly hurt, we all had a good 
laugh, which started us off in a very happy 
mood. (What to do with our whole pound of 
butter, which in the heat had been reduced to 
a liquid form, we did not know, until we dis¬ 
covered on our winding way another one of the 
very cold streams of water we had so often 
been refreshed at, and by filling a tin can with 
the water and literally “pouring” the butter 
into a glass jar, which we put inside the tin can, 
the butter soon hardened enough to spread.) 
On our way from Northampton through to 
Holyoke we were continually hailed by friendly 
members of the different boat clubs with 
“Where are you from?” or “Where are you 
bound?” “Won’t you come up for a while?”— 
some even asking us to dinner and to spend the 
night; but as our time was growing short, and 
we still wanted to- ascend Mt. Tom. we were 
forced to decline, although we did make one 
stop at a canoe club, where we were given some 
delicious spring water and some kerosene oil 
(for our little lantern). 
We decided to make Holyoke, or. rather, 
South Hadley Falls, on the opposite shore, our 
last camping place, and from there we (». e, all 
except Billy, whom we left in charge of the 
camp) took the trip up the inclined railway to 
Mt. Tom, and there spent the afternoon and 
evening enjoying the view of the country 
through which we had just come. When we 
reached camp after nine o’clock that night, feel¬ 
ing a little guilty at leaving Billy all alone for so 
long a time, we found him all tucked away in 
his canoe fast asleep and the camp in total dark¬ 
ness. We lighted our lantern and began rum¬ 
maging for something to eat before “bunking,” 
and all we could find was a little milk and a 
few huckleberries. We agreed that if Billy had 
been lonely, he had not gone to bed hungry. 
While we were finishing up what was left, Billy’s 
voice, coming out of the darkness, shouted, 
“Hello, there! Bet you haven't had any better 
time than I’ve been having. Been entertaining 
two girls all afternoon, first by taking them for 
a paddle, and then sitting them down to a 
spread, which you ought to have seen how they 
enjoyed!”-—wasted pity on our parts! 
As the expressman was to come early next 
morning for our luggage we were up by five 
o'clock, the rest of us rolling up bundles and 
covering the canoes with canvas, while Blanche 
was detailed to make the morning trip for milk 
and eggs for breakfast. In going to one of the 
neighboring farmhouses for the milk in a 
muddled waist and minus a collar, and swinging 
the big milk pail on her arm, she knocked at 
what she thought to be the back door of the 
farmhouse, when suddenly a head was thrust 
out of one of the upper windows, and a woman’s 
voice called out in strident tones, “Hey. you 
with the milk pail, go to the back door!” “I 
thought I was at the back door,” came the re¬ 
sponse, as she walked to what looked like *t 
woodshed door. In a moment the door opened 
and the same person appeared and with a smil¬ 
ing face said, quite amiably, “Good morning! 
It’s a very warm day, isn’t it?” We smiled at 
her little experience and especially when she 
said her purchases for our last day had amounted 
to just twenty-three cents. 
About 8:30 we took the car which goes 
through Springfield all the way to Hartford, 
reaching there in time to go through the beauti¬ 
ful Capitol before catching the two train to New 
York, after a most delightful ride. 
Shall we ever forget the varied experience of 
that trip—the beautiful streams we came 
across, pouring their limpid waters through 
shady ravines, or down steep,- rugged banks 
into the river; the springs from which we drew 
supplies of sparkling ice-cold water with which 
to slake our thirst after a hard paddle in the 
hot sun; the pretty deer who stood on the bank 
and looked at us so fearlessly; the coon and the 
long-necked bird Billy shot; the fish we nearly 
caught; the experiences we had with the various 
farmers and people along the way, most of them 
warm-hearted and hospitable as soon as they 
learned we' were campers and strangers to that 
part of the country. 
Of course as soon as we reached home we 
lived over again in memory the many pleasant 
incidents of the trip, and often remind each 
other of something funny that happened and 
every once in a while when we are together we 
sing the little song Mrs. Matthews composed, 
which runs: 
“Connecticut River, farewell. 
We know thy face no more. 
We sailed thy breast in our light canoes, 
Our light canoes; 
We love thy rocks and thy rapids gay. 
Thy coves with their gentler way, 
Thy woodland shores and thy springs that did pour 
Their nectar the livelong day. 
Oh, Connecticut River, farewell. 
We’ll think of thee lightly by night and by day, 
So, Connecticut River, farewell, 
Farewell farewell.” 
Apukwa. 
