JUNE 16, 1906.] 

weather on the whole rather warm, excepting at 
Hudson Bay, when the ice wind would move in- 
land for a few hours at a time. Clouds typical of 
the region appeared almost daily. In the morning 
the sky would be beautifully clear until about 
ten o’clock, when small detached flecks of nimbus 
clouds would appear. These would increase by 
two o'clock to large masses of cumulo-nimbus, 
and late in the afternoon to form solid banks of. 
cumulus, which sometimes spilled over a little. 
The trend of the archean rocks seemed to be 
east-northeast and west-southwest. Fluvial ero- 
sion was oblique in the archean rocks, and rec- 
tangular in the traps. 
Pitcher plants and butterworts were~ the only 
insectivorous plants that we observed on the trip, 
and we saw none of our old and expected. friends. 
the sun-dews. 
For freedom from accident of any sort on 
the trip we give credit to our tough and shapely 
Oldtown canoes, and to our expert Indian canoe- 
men. After a thousand miles of canoe trip in the 
wilderness without mishap, the porter in the 
sleeping car stepped on my toe and nearly laid me 
up for a week. The only misfortune on the trip 
was at the outset. I had laboriously and arbi- 
trarily committed to memory about two hundred 
new Ojibway words, with my canoeman as 
teacher, when I suddenly discovered that my 
teacher stuttered, and the whole new vocabulary 
tottered on its pedestal. 
The Earthquake and After. 
Pato Atto, Cal:, June 1.—Editor Forest and 
Stream: It might be interesting to your readers 
to read a few lines from the scene of the recent 
severe tremor. I have been in California forty- 
two years, nearly all of which have been passed 
in or near San Francisco, and hence in the earth- 
quake belt. Only one shock in all that time—in 
1868—at all approached the recent one in severity. 
My present home is in Palo Alto, the Leland 
Stanford University town, avout thirty miles 
south of San Francisco. The ‘quake was as 
severe here as in the latter place. Doubtless, your 
readers have already learned of the destruction of 
some of Stanford University’s large buildings, 
which were in course of erection. ‘The essential 
buildings, mostly one story stone, are compara- 
tively uninjured, so that the full semester will 
open as usual with full facilities. The taller 
buildings that were constructed of brick, not re- 
enforced, suffered severely. Those, on the other 
hand, built of re-enforced concrete are but little 
injured. Most of the brick buildings of the town 
were much injured. Where the mortar was good 
the damage was nominal. We have about one 
thousand modern houses, of which only one or 
two went down, though nearly every residence 
suffered loss of chimneys at the roof line. Wall 
plaster of the first stories was cracked, and I 
presume a good team of horses could haul all the 
bric-a-brae left whole in the entire town. Fortu- 
nately, no conflagration occurred. 
The ’quake was quite short, about forty-seven 
seconds, but it certainly “did things” from start 
to finish. My wife, who is a reliable seismo- 
graph, and who has experienced hundreds of 
"quakes, awoke me crying “Earthquake! Earth- 
quake.” She seized me convulsively around the 
neck, as she habitually does when ‘quakes occur 
during the night, and having a dreadful fear of 
them, she uttered frequent notes of terror. I 
spent most of the time of the shake in trying to 
quiet her fears. Toward the end all the furniture 
in the bed chamber that was on rollers began to 
move hither and thither, and I then concluded 
that we had better get under the sky. We rushed 
. down stairs and out into the flower garden. The 
*quake was over, and the roses, carnations, etc., 
in full bloom, were smiling at us, and in the big 
oak the linnets and wild canaries were singing 
their sweetest. 
After getting our breath we re-entered the 
house to take stock of damages, and my wife 
spent one of the saddest hours of her life picking 
up the débris of her most cherished bric-a-brac, 
while I anxiously examined the injuries done to 
the building. The upper story was intact, but 
the wall plaster of the lower part was badly 
cracked in places. The large brick mantel in the 
parlor, which was the habitual resting place of 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
949 

our choicest knick-knacks, not being securely 
anchored to the chimney, was resolved into its 
original components, and the parlor floor was 
littered from “stem to stern’ with fragments 
thereof. Both chimney tops broke off at the roof 
line, cne coming down in a lump on to the lawn, 
and the other, breaking up, came down in a 
shower of brick and mortar. My damages are 
typical of «he general run of wooden houses in 
the earthquake field. 
I have visited San Francisco several times since 
the great fire. Words can not paint the desola- 
tion of the burnt district. I have lived all my 
adult life in that city, and have watched most of 
its great buildings go up, one by one, with an al- 
most personal interest. And now, with one fell 
swoop, the fire demon has leveled them all into 
ashes, though the residence district, except for 
the poorer classes, is still whole. I understand 
that a very large ratio of loss is attributed by 
our eastern friends to the earthquake itself. This 
is an error. Possibly one to two per cent. of 
the damage arose from this cause. Had no fire 
cecurred any one of half a dozen of our wealthy 
men could have repaired all damages out of his 
own pocket. About 150,000 people have left the 
city, most of them going to interior points. Some 
300,000 still remain. The great majority of them 
are self supporting, but the destitute are still 
counted by thousands. Cooked food stations are 
now supplanting the former custom of dealing 
out raw rations, and it will be many a long day 
before the last of these poor people becomes self- 
supporting. 
I have read several statements in eastern publi- 
cations giving twenty millions as the amount sub- 
scribed for the relief of fire and earthquake 
sufferers. This is a gross exaggeration. The 
donations have been extremely liberal, but not 
one-half of this amount has been given. 
All the banks are now open, and the insurance 
companies are beginning, though grudgingly, to 
pay fire icsses. Soon will begin the era of débris- 
clearing, This ..will take many months. Then 
will begin the rebuilding of “Greater San Fran- 
cisco.” :Pessimists are aS scarce as hen’s teeth. 
Everybody is full of hope and enthusiasm. We 
Californians dearly love our State, and it will 
take a much greater catastrophe than that of 
April 18-22. to drive us into exile. 
Our leading geologists are a unit on the cause 
of the local ‘quakes. ,, An old “fault” or rift passes 
northwest and southeast for many miles parallel 
with the cvast line. San. Francisco, San Jose, 
and other towns recently affected lie a few miles 
east of this line, which is clearly traceable ‘from 
the coast line north of San Francisco down past 
San Luis Obispo, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, 
Yuma, into the Gulf of California. The earth is 
liable to receive a jar at any point in the vicinity 
of this rift when adjustments are occurring in 
the-earth’s interior. 
With reasonable care in the construction of 
buildings, there is very little danger to human life 
from an earthquake. Previous to the recent one, 
there never was a fatality except by the falling 
of some rotten walls and foundations in San 
Francisco in 1868. The considerable death rate 
(over 500) in the recent calamity was owing to 
the same cause. An occupant of a _ well-con- 
structed building of any conventional building 
material, having modern patent chimneys, need 
have no fear whatever of injury to life or limb 
from the severest ‘quake yet recorded. 
The danger from this cause in California is a 
mere trifle as compared with that of lightning 
and cyclones throughout the East or Central West. 
which recur regularly every year; for, from the 
nature of the cause, a severe quake can be looked 
for only once or twice in a hundred years. The 
average tremblor is neither terrifying nor a par- 
ticle dangerous. : 
Personally, I don’t know an individual who has 
left the State permanently on account of the 
‘quake, though doubtless quite a number have 
done so. 
Only about one-fifth of the State was shaken, 
and outside of San Francisco business is carried 
on as if nothing unusual had happened. 
While San Franciscans, with grateful hearts, 
thank the hosts of generous givers of money and 
supplies, they are even now up and doing. Only 
50,000 are cared for by the Relief’ Committee 
and Red Cross at this writing. In a few months, 
when the insurance companies shall have paid out 
scores of millions, there will be work for all; and 
in a few short years the metropolis of the Pacific 
will again arise and dominate this great and 
glorious empire, this richest gem in the star 
cluster of our mighty republic. ° ROEEL. 

The Sleigh Dog of the North. 
MicairicoteN River, Ont., April 26.—Having 
read with interest some articles in your paper on 
the sledge dog, or sleigh dog, as we call it here, 
I thought that an item from this corner of Lake 
Superior might not be amiss. 
The sleigh dog is very much in evidence here, 
and however contracted his sphere may be get- 
ting in the “Great Fur Land,” it is not so here, 
and this generation will not witness his “passing.” 
In fact, he will be more and more in demand for 
many years to come. 
While such a trip as Mr. MacFarlane narrates 
may be a thing of the past as far as the necessity 
existing for it is concerned, it is nevertheless true 
that, for a short distance travel, the most effec- 
tive, and, in fact, the only possible means of 
raipd transit and transportation of supplies in 
the winter season, over a large section of the 
north shore of Lake Superior and the wilderness 
adjacent, will be the sleigh dog. The topography 
of the country is such that an extensive and rami- 
fied road system is impracticable. Rough and 
hilly, short valleys and ridges, and lakes and 
streams innumerable, give promise of long life to 
the canoe and the sleigh dog. 
Mining, lumbering and fishing will always con- 
stitute the chief industries of this large section, 
and although points here and there may be 
touched by railroads, the dog will hold his own. 
The more new camps established, the greater 
number of dogs will be required. In fact, the 
demand last winter exceeded the supply. 
Although we have very few pure-bred huskies, 
we have a number of crossed huskie and Indian 
dogs, some of them being very powerful. One 
local dog has a record of 500 pounds for two 
miles over an ordinary woods trail frozen and 
covered with three inches of light snow. 
Many of those dogs, otherwise gentle enough, 
are savage while under harness. Their ownership 
is transferred so often that they readily forget 
the old master for the new, and with few excep- 
tions form the same personal’ attachment to their 
owner that a pure bred collie or spaniel does. 
The natives believe ‘in a canine application of 
the apostle’s injunction, “If a man does not work 
neither shall he eat.’ The consequence is that 
from the opening to the close of navigation there 
are always a lot of hungry dogs scouring the 
woods and raiding any unguarded camps and 
stores, a curse to everybody and cursed by nearly 
everybody but their owners. And, withal, it is 
surprising how few of them meet the just penalty 
of their transgressions. It is rare that one is 
either poisoned or shot, as would be the case in 
an over-civilized community. The wilderness 
breeds the primitive virtues of tolerance and 
good will—more power to the wilderness! A. G. 
THE story of the fellow who would not fire 
“because he only had one charge of powder and 
he wished to hunt all day,’ reminds me of one 
that I have heard told around the camp-fire, 
which may be new to some of your readers. A 
young man from the city, brimful of that name- 
less fear of firearms, which haunts the dilletante 
sportsman who has not pulled a trigger for a 
year, went for a few days’ duck shooting with one 
of his country cousins. They got very near to 
an immense flock of ducks, which were feeding 
in shallow water, near the shore, and it was 
agreed that the city man should try a sitting shot, 
while the “bushman” took them flying. To the 
disgust of the countryman, the other could not 
summon sufficient courage to face the explosion 
that must ensue should he pull the trigger, so he 
kept aiming and aiming but never firing. “Why 
in thunder don’t you fire?” said his friend. “Be- 
cause, he replied, “the minute I go to shoot, an- 
other duck comes swimming right in the way.” 
INGLEWOOD. 
