
JULY 13, 1907.] 
FOREST, AND STREAM. 

man’s paradise so conveniently near. From 
the bay we worked our way slowly down, 
stopping for a’ time at one of the islands, 
where, with March in the advance as scout, we 
ere long procured several grouse, and then 
went on to Colville’s (where the present 
Wawbeek Inn is located), and announcing our 
approach in the usual manner—by means of 
the cornet—were duly welcomed, and Mrs. 
Colville served our game in her best style. 
After supper, while seated on the porch en- 
joying the sunset view, we saw something far 
out, swimming toward Birch Island, and with 
the aid of a glass made out that it was a black 
bear. Having “lost a bear,’ we at once, with 
rifle and boat, pulled for the island; but ere 
we could reach it, the bear had landed, and 
although we carefully hunted, we could not 
discover him, but finally found where he had 
again taken the water on his way to a smaller 
island, and from there to the eastern shore, 
where the forest had given a safe refuge, and 
darkness prevented further pursuit, even had 
we been inclined to take the trail. Suffice it ,to 
say, that I have never corraled my lost bear, 
for always when I have had one in view, I was 
sure to have rod instead of gun, except on one 
occasion when deer stalking. I. started two 
bears, whose presence was made known by the 
“woof-woof” grunts, and were on a ledge of 
rocks beneath a precipice, upon which I was 
at the -top, and could only see them by lean- 
ing out and supporting myself by clinging to 
a cedar growing at the edge, and could in no 
way bring my rifle to bear upon them; and 
although I followed their trail into a swampy 
thicket, the approaching darkness obliged a 
speedy return campward. A light rain during 
the night obliterated the trace. 
After a pleasant evening at Colville’s, we 
next day went down into the South Bay and 
took a stroll over the Indian carry to Stony 
Creek Ponds and: back, and then pulled for 
the outlet—Saranac River—down the outlet to 
the carry, around the old saw-mill and rapids 
to Fowler’s (formerly Bartlett’s) famous 
trouting resort, where we found a number of 
guests, some of whom we had met before. 
After dinner, we were invited to accompany a 
party for a view from Moose or Ampersand 
Mountain, and taking boats, went down the 
river and through the short but somewhat 
dangerous rapids at the island, and down to 
the large but somewhat shallow Round Pond, 
now called Middle Saranac Lake, and thence 
to its southeastern shore to the trail that led 
to the mountain top, which we found neither: 
very long nor difficult, and the view presented 
was well worth the ascent. At the southern 
base nestled Ampersand Pond, with its outlet 
running westward into Stony Creek and the 
Raquette River; and beyond, rising to the height 
of 4,384 feet, was the brow of Mount Seward, 
with the principal Adirondack peaks just be- 
yond, while northward the waters of the Sar- 
anac chain, and the St. Regis, Mackenzie,:Sad- 
dleback and White Face Mountains are easily 
distinguished. Descending, we returned to 
Fowler’s, and passed a pleasant evening. 
Next morning we retraced our way into and 
through Round Pond and down the winding 
river, with its varied scenery, until presently 
from the waters of Loon Bay we emerged 
into the broader expanse of* Lower Saranac 
Lake, with its handsome shores and numer- 
ous islands presenting an ever-changing scene 
as we leisurely moved through and back and 
forward to obtain the various views thus af- 
forded, finally reaching Martin’s Hotel, near 
the foot, where we remained over night. We 
whiled away the remainder of the afternoon bya 
stroll to the Saranac village and a view of the 
river below. 
The outlet of the Lower Saranac is only 
about a quarter of the length of the lake from 
its inlet, and after being enlarged by various 
small streams, swings around and passes near 
the so-called foot of the lake, having made 
quite a detour. 
Next morning, leaving our boat at Martin's, 
we went by the stage over a charming drive 
to Lake Placid, alighting at Stevens’ excellent 
hotel, and spent the remainder of the day in 

THE 
viewing Mirror Lake, and a stroll to North 
Elba. In the morning, having secured a boat 
and lunch, we pulled along the eastern shore, 
through Lake Placid (a justly celebrated and 
beautiful lake, of immense depth, with its 
mountain surroundings casting their shadows 
across), and reaching the Northeastern Bay, 
took the trail for the four-mile ascent to the 
summit of Mount White Face. This trail is 
one of great diversity, and affords some fine 
views en route, as from ridge tops, brawling 
brooks flow along their base, and glimpses of 
the outside world were now and then had 
from some point of vantage as we toiled on- 
ward and upward. Then boulders 
seemed to block the way; but we wound in and 
out about them, gradually ascending, until the 
path led us to the bare rock, down which some 
landslide has plowed its way, leaving its path 
for a long way down the steep mountainside, 
and which, seen for a long distance, gives the 
name of White Face. This bare sandstone rock 
is quite smooth, and at an angle of nearly 45 
degrees. It is some rods in width where the 
trail crossed, and as it had rained during the 
night’ and the air was cold, we found it slip- 
pery, with a thin coating of ice. and we had 
to use our knives to cut places that would 
prove safer footholds; but finally we crossed 
in safety, and then a final pull brought us to 
the rocky summit, only to find it enveloped in 
the clouds and the view obscured. We built 
a fire on the lee side of some rocks wherewith 
to keep warm, ate our lunch, and after waiting 
two hours for a clear sky, retraced our way 
through falling rain. Next day was cloudy, 
and we went out for a jaunt to some nearby 
hills, and in the evening I was glad to be asked 
to join a party at whist. 
lo 
masses of 

On the following day, although somewhat 
cloudy, with promise of clearing, we again 
made the trip to White Face and had some 
glorious views. At times we were above the 
moving clouds, and the sun, shining upon 
them, presented a strange appearance; then 

the sky would be clear in one direction and 
then another, and we eagerly scanned the 
views presented, and finally, when*the clouds 
had cleared away, the views of mountain and 
dale, lakes and rivers were magnificent. Far 
to the northwest the St. +Lawrerfce gleamed 
like a thread of silver, while eastward lay Lake 
Champlain. and beneath us, at the southwest, 
Lake Placid, with its three islands, looked like 
a. mirror, bordered most quaintly and_ pic- 
turesquely. We remained as long as we could, 
and then reluctantly made our way back, more 
than half inclined to remain on top during 
the night, that we might have a sunrise view 
in the morning. - 
By all means visit White Eace if ever in its 
vicinity. If I am correctly informed, there is 
a horse trail from Wilmington, so that those 
unable to walk may ride on horseback to the 
summit. The view of the high peaks and 
CANADIAN 
Photograph by George E. 
.the clouds were very threatening, we startec 
CHANNEL, 
Walsh. 
ranges to the south and east is wonderfully 
grand. 
We returned to Saranac, and having found 
our boat with a tavori.e paddle missing,. made 
inquiry, and found that a guide had. “bor- 
rowed” it for a trip to a camp on one of the 
islands up the lake, and notwithstanding that 
out at once; but ere we had aalf way 
through the rain descended, and by the time 
we reached the island camp our boat needec¢ 
emptying, which I accomplished while Andy 
secured the paddle and gave the offender his 
blessing, or words to that effect that suite: 
better, and on we went. 
gone 


Soon the clouds rolle« 
by, and we went on to Fowler’s for the night, 
and thence leisurely returned by the Tupper 
Lake route in due time to our Smith’s' Lake 
headquarters. 


Camping on the St. Lawrence. 
“A MOVABLE camp is the most satisfactory sum- 
mer home,” said my friend, who had spent two 
seasons on the St. Lawrence, “and the less para 
phernalia you take along the better you will like 
it. The first season I took half a van load with 
me;.the second just enough to crowd comfort 
ably in a St. Lawrence River skiff, and I had thx 
time of my life.” 
A movable summer home on the famous river 
skiff 
consists for the most part of a tent and a 
fish- 
Pots, pans, bedding, hammocks and even 
ing tackle are only of secondary consideration 
The skiff should come first—or motor-boat if you 
can afford it—and then the tent. The skiff will 
take you anywhere—from the Great Lakes. to the 
Rapids—and nature furnishes dry land in abund 
ance—mere rock islets the size of a hen-coop, or 
large enough to support a population of a million 
or two. 
lhe man who lives in his palatial houseboat 
on the rtver may enjoy life, and also the owner 
of a swift steam yacht, but the vagabonds of the 
St. Lawrence, the flotsam and jetsam of a score 
of cities that has broken loose from the routine 
ties of business, home and friends, come pretty 
near getting the most out of a vacation. There 
is only one drawback—the brevity of the season. 
Summer comes and goes like a fleeting shadow, 
and the season 1s all too short. 
We spent three months there. Favored mor- 
tals though we were, it was with lingering re- 
gret that we finally pulled up and de 
parted; but the remembrance of it, like the taste 
of old wine, lingers and leaves a pleasant flavor. 
Some day we shall return, and then there will be 
no mistakes, no waste of time in learning over 
again the secrets of camping, no futile chasing 
of the impossible, no hunting for ideal spots. 
A. fifty-dollar tent* is ample for all purposes, 
stakes 
*There is no reason for such a large expenditure for a 
tent. The very best khaki or duck tents, large enough 
for two persons and their outfit, or three even, 
cost only about $20, whereas the common wall tents can 
be had anywhere for $5 to $10.—EpiTor, 
persons 

