THE FIRE ON ALBANY MOUNTAIN 
HUNTING DEER WITH SHERIFF COLE AND A VIVID EXPERIENCE 
WITH A DESTRUCTIVE FOREST FIRE IN THE ADIRONDACKS 
By PAUL BRANDRETH 
N O one who has visited the Adiron¬ 
dack^ for any length of time can 
fail to note the rapid and often 
extraordinary climatic variations. 
Within twenty-four hours it is no un¬ 
common thing for the temperature to 
rise or fall as much as thirty degrees; 
and the changes are not infrequently 
even more astonishing than this. Glanc¬ 
ing at the thermometer at noon you see 
that it registers 80 degrees in the shade. 
With the advent of a storm or shift of 
wind, however, it may drop toward eve¬ 
ning to a point dangerously approach¬ 
ing frost. Owing also to the high alti¬ 
tude and consequent rapid condensation 
of moisture from the forests, the aver¬ 
age yearly rainfall in the region is con¬ 
siderably in excess of that in the lower 
countries. 
Thus, when you set out under the 
genial auspices of a sun-bright sky it is 
well to cast about for that little cloud 
lurking on the horizon which may ar¬ 
rive in the course of a brief half hour to 
administer to you a thorough drench¬ 
ing. And so at all seasons will you find 
the weather of a novel and capricious 
temperament. Yet perhaps it is this 
very uncertainty of climate, this con¬ 
stant activity of temperature, that gives 
to Adirondack air a flavor all its own— 
a freshness, a quality of exhilaration, a 
delicious health-stimulating variety that 
is never to be found in the lowlands nor 
at the sea level. 
Particularly to my mind, with relation 
to these abrupt climatic changes, there 
comes the memory of an afternoon I 
spent on Albany 
Mountain with 
Sheriff Cole. 
Within a few 
hours on that oc¬ 
casion more “sorts 
of weather” made 
themselves evident 
than one would 
b e 1 i e ve possible. 
Rain, hail, fog, 
wind and snow 
followed each 
other in succes- 
tion or were 
jumbled together 
as a most enliven¬ 
ing mixture. To¬ 
ward late after¬ 
noon we were 
treated to a vio¬ 
lent thunderstorm, 
and concluded our 
day’s hunt under a 
mellow flood of 
sunlight. 
one stormy November morning at Mac 
D's tote road. In having been able to 
negotiate a hunt with this six-foot, 
strong-armed mountaineer of the law, I 
felt myself fortunate. Being a man 
whose occupation was necessarily of a 
... 
Fire annihilates the finest products 
of man and nature. When man¬ 
made products are destroyed they 
can be rebuilt and are very often 
improved upon, but nothnig made 
by nature has ever changed or been 
improved upon since the world be¬ 
gan. When a forest is burned it is 
lost to a generation of men. 
Read this story and you will ever 
after be careful how you handle 
your fire when in the woods. 
■■[I .I .Ml . . 
pressing nature, he had little or no time 
to indulge in the pastime of hunting. 
But this fact, however, did not inter¬ 
fere with the reputation he bore as 
trailer, woodsman and still-hunter. In¬ 
deed, for a heavily built and powerful 
individual, the Sheriff is about as quick 
on his feet and as agile as anyone I 
have ever met. Nor would you find 
anyone in the North Woods who takes 
keener interest in forest conservation or 
the welfare of wilderness creatures. 
On the morning in question there 
seemed to hang about the Sheriff an at¬ 
mosphere indicative of success. He 
prophesied with confidence and a most 
assuring smile that we would enjoy the 
best of luck. And so we did. Shortly 
after we had joined forces we came on 
the freshly vacated beds of two large 
deer. There was a good tracking snow, 
and within ten minutes we sighted a fine 
dark-colored buck. A lucky shot drop¬ 
ped him and then, as we ran forward, 
the second deer, who all this time had 
kept cleverly out of sight, broke cover 
and bounded up the slope of the moun¬ 
tain. 
“Gentle Moses!” gasped the Sheriff, 
“Did you see that head?” 
So the big one gave us the slip, as big 
ones usually do. The deer we had 
bagged was a splendid specimen, but the 
vision of those other branching tawny- 
colored horns hung persistently before 
us. At last, when we were ready to 
again set out, the Sheriff voiced most 
aptly what was going on in my own 
mind. 
“Suppose we have a look for the other 
chap,” he suggested. 
The next three hours we followed 
with sleuthlike care the trail of this 
wily whitetail. And truly a merr\ 
chase he gave us! 
It was only when we gained the crest 
of the mountain that we realized to fill 
extent what the weather was doing 
Now a hurricane of wind would come 
trampling overhead, followed by cloud; 
of fog and sheets of stinging rain 
Again there would be a lull. Suddenly 
the woods would darken to ghostlike 
obscurities a n ( 
the mist descenc 
in a thick, drench 
ing blanket. Anc 
then, all at once 
the gale, with re 
newed fury, woulc 
surge against tin 
mountain, w h i 1 1 
its steady orgai 
roar among th< 
spruce tops dead 
ened all o t h e 
sound. 
I T must have 
been as late as 
10 o’clock when I 
met the Sheriff 
The graveyard of a forest once beautiful and gracious 
O WING to thi 
elemental con 
fusion and noise 
we felt almost cer 
tain of sighting 
our quarry. Bu 
once he ha* 
reached the high 
est point of lane 
we perceived, t 
our dismay, tha 
he was resortin 
to that old ances 
tral trick of back 
tracking. In an' 
out through th 
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