694 
[Oct. 29, 1910. 
Hunting with Uncle Hi. 
A series of letters written to relatives by a sportsman 
sojourning at a camp on the Grasse River in the North 
Woods. 
x. — INDIANS AND WOOD PHILOSOPHY. 
Uncle Hi’s range of mental vision may be 
limited and obstructed, and he may say things 
that will not bear the closest analysis, but that 
does not alter or neutralize the positive state¬ 
ment that he is a philosopher. On the contrary, 
when a man’s mental vision is obstructed and he 
begins to babble epigrams, with or without mean¬ 
ing, civilization calls him a philosopher. Uncle 
Hi doesn’t babble, but he does philosophize, be¬ 
cause there is little else to do here. And he 
says some mighty good things, too. 
We were discussing the mountain wilderness 
as it is to-day and, naturally, our thoughts ran 
back to the conditions in early days when no 
white man dared enter here and when the In¬ 
dians, even, avoided the central portion to con¬ 
gregate chiefly on the southern boundaries. We 
also recalled the atrocities of the eastern bound¬ 
aries as related in history and often referred to 
in Cooper’s “Leatherstocking Tales.” Civilization 
moved slowly in those days, it seemed, and we 
remarked on that fact, also. Uncle Hi listened 
intently, and at last he spoke: 
"When I first came inter these woods, I wan’t 
much more than a boy. Injuns were skeerce in 
those days, as most of ’em had gone north ’er 
died. Down around Long Lake West there was 
a few, the Sabattis fambly being the chief ones. 
When I first knew ’em there was father, mother, 
son and darter. The mother died, I’m thinking, 
an’ that left the three. The ole man an the 
darter were agin’ the whites at every turn and 
never would try to make up with ’em, but 
Mitchell Sabattis, the boy, was more sociable like. 
He wuz a purty decent sort of feller and a good 
hunter an’ trapper. He’s still livin , but he s an 
ole man now an’ don't do much guidin’. Lie’s 
rich fer the woods, an’ it all came about by his 
being guide for a history-writin’ feller [J. 1 . 
Headley] that came inter the woods sick. 
Mitchell took this history man all over the lower 
end of the woods and as far north as- Tuppers, 
an’ he did such good work that the history feller 
wrote all about him. After that anybody that 
came into the woods from the southeast wanted 
Mitchell to guide ’em. He had lots to do and 
made a lot of money an’ bought a island down 
below. When the railroad is finished he will 
have a good thing out of it an’ his land. ’ 
[Mitchell Sabattis died some three years ago.] 
“The best guides in these woods in the arly 
days,” Uncle Hi continued, “came from over to¬ 
ward Lake Champlain, an’ aroun’ Plattsburg. 
The whole woods wuz their range, while the 
southern guides never came much north of Little 
Tupper. Those eastern guides were fine fellows 
and they wuz the ones to tell the Injun stories. 
I have hearn ’em tell yarns that made my blood 
boil about whole famblies o' settlers bein 
massacreed and their cabins burned. Wanderin 
bands of Injuns then yawhooped aroun’ the 
woods and their only joy was in blood an’ scalps. 
I don’t s’pose the true history of those arly days 
ever will be told, fer it’s too late now, and no 
one took it down while it wuz goin’ on. When I 
rikollect the stories I used to hear from the ole 
hunters, it brings me aroun’ to what you’ve jest 
said about civilization movin’ slow in those days. 
I’ve thought about it a whole lot—thought about 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
the poor wimin and babies that died in this 
wilderness ’cause the devil Injuns wanted blood 
and scalps—an’ I’ve come to the conclusion that 
civilization was held back two hundred years 
’cause some fellow wan’t smart enough to invent 
a repeatin’ rifle at the proper moment.” 
What do you think of that for a fine bit of 
woods philosophy? The psychological moment 
for the repeating rifle no doubt was when the 
brave pioneers were trying to win their way into 
the wilderness, but I do not recall that any one, 
aside from Uncle Hi, ever thought of the fact. 
On another occasion Uncle Hi had been out 
to the railroad after the mail. He brought in 
letters for both of us and a single copy of a 
daily newspaper. Who was kind enough to send 
that paper I do not know, but it was the first 
one I have seen since I came to the woods. As 
a matter of course we mentally devoured it from 
date line to the last advertisement on the last 
page. We had not known how much we missed 
the news of the world, and I am sure we were 
not at all gratified by what we read. On its first 
page were six articles, all too significant of the 
greed that infests our so-called civilization, as 
well as its lack of moral force. Each of these 
articles told of some good man or woman “gone 
wrong,” financially or socially. After we had 
read the paper carefully we drifted into a dis¬ 
cussion of its contents. Those articles detailing- 
woeful and criminal wrongdoings especially 
formed a topic for conversation. We had quite 
forgotten that, in the world of communities, 
such things are almost of daily occurrence, for 
we had been living with honest trees and moun¬ 
tains for weeks. Hence, we were shocked into 
remarking that the world seemed to be quite 
unanimously going wrong. Uncle Hi, as usual, 
listened intently and expectorated vehemently. 
At last he broke in: 
“Boys, I’ve hearn a lot about the crooked 
things in the settlements. Men who have been 
in here have told me, and out to the railroad it’s 
been talked about. I’ve hearn this talk, an’ I’ve 
stopped at the big huttel a lot on my way after 
the mail. I’ve studied the men and wimin that 
come up to that huttel to spend the summer in 
the mountains. They’re a poor lot in every way 
’cept money. Ye see the wimin settin’ around 
on the porches, all dressed fit to kill and nussing 
long-haired dogs, while their own children are 
rompin’ around in care of a hired girl, or nuss, 
I believe they call ’em. An’ when bedtime comes 
these same hired girls tote these children off an’ 
put ’em to bed, while mammy changes her dress 
in order to give the dog a change of scene. An’ 
the men smoke an’ drink an’ gamble in one way 
or another an’ pay no ’tention to wife or children 
—s’m other man pays ’tention to the wife, an’ 
only the hired girl, for so much a week, pays 
’tention to the little tikes. So I’ve seen this sort 
of thing ever since the huttel was built. Now, 
when I see these babies brought up by hired 
girls while their daddies and mammies dawdle 
keerds and dogs, and then, right on top of it, I 
hear about men and wimin out in the settle¬ 
ments goin’ clean wrong in money and other 
ways, I feel that I can ’count for it. The trouble 
with the world right now is that mother’s knee 
has gone out of bizness.” 
Is it not the truth that the old man spoke? 
It may not explain all that makes for evil and 
ill in the world, but the moral force of other 
days, commonly known as “mother’s knee,” is 
not as potent in these days as it should be. At 
any rate Uncle Hi’s homely philosophy is worth 
consideration as well as preservation in ink. 
Fred L. Purdy. 
Game in North Carolina. 
Hendersonville, N. C., Oct. 11.— Editor Forest 
mid Stream: The fishing season is over. It has 
not been a very satisfactory one, because of the 
rains that seldom allowed our waters to get 
clear. But I am looking forward now, not back¬ 
ward, and as the days grow cooler there is some¬ 
thing in the air that begins to call us to the 
fields and woods. I have a very fine young Irish 
setter that I count on much after the season 
opens. 
In this State we have a very absurd system 
of game laws. For instance in Henderson coun¬ 
ty the open season for all game except squirrels 
is Nov. 15 to March 15. In the adjoining county 
of Transylvania the season opens Nov. 1, while 
in Clay county it is Dec. 1, and so on in the 
different ninety-six counties of the State. No 
one man knows them all, and each Legislature 
keeps them “on the move.” I shall try to keep 
up with the dates in my county and adjoining 
counties if I can. . 
The partridges-—quail—are plentiful in the up¬ 
lands I am told. My setter pointed three large 
coveys one afternoon while out with me recently 
as I walked through a large field, and she held 
her points well and did not offer to dash after 
the birds when they rose. 
I always train my own dogs and think that 
when a trainer is employed, the owner should 
be with the trainer for at least one day to note 
his methods of handling if the best results are 
desired. The call of the wild grows on me and 
I am now thinking of a trip with one or two 
friends in the great Smoky Mountains, on a 
bear hunt. 
Deer are on the increase in parts of our 
mountains, and under our present law cannot 
be run with hounds, nor can any but bucks be 
killed. If this law is not revoked by the next 
Legislature, the increase must soon be marked 
if the law is enforced. 
It takes something more than a lazy man to 
stalk an old buck and bag him, but on a stand 
or runway with dogs after it any man can shoot 
a deer. Yet I have seen men who could not 
hit the broad side of a barn when the cry of 
a pack of dogs begin to draw near them. 
The ruffed grouse, “my friend, the partridge,” 
is now drumming again. He is always interest¬ 
ing, but never more so than when on an old log, 
and always on the qui vive then, every few 
minutes drumming. 
Let the sportsman who attempts then to tackle 
him be careful to catch the last beats of my 
friend’s drum, else he may go in the opposite 
direction to that whence the drumming came. 
It takes a correct ear. Once having surely lo¬ 
cated your grouse, go right for him; if you 
creep and he hears you he will be gone on your 
arrival. Otherwise he takes you for a cow pos¬ 
sibly. Ernest L. Ewbank. 
All the game laws of the United States and 
Canada, revised to date and now in force, are 
given in the Game Lazos in Brief. See adv. 
