84 
FOREST AND STREAM 



From the Canadian Monthly. 
THE MOCKING-BIRD. 
—__+>—_—_- 
BY CHAS. SANGSTER. 
HE mocking-bird sits in the eld apple tree, 
Jovially, jauntily singing; 
Who trills a daintier song than he ? 
With a wilder gush, or a deeper glee, 
Fresh from his glad heart springing ? 
Up steps my passionate oriole, 
And sings till you'd think the bird had a soni, 
So mellow, and deep, and rich the strain— 
Song-mist and sweet showers of music rain. 
He has a rare touch of rich humor, too: 
Up inthe maple perching, , 
Hiding, and singing a score of songs, 
Until the birds appear in throngs, 
Each for its own mate searching. 
Now like an absolute bird of prey, 
Scaring the terrified flock away; 
Sndden the flutter, the flight absurd— 
Ts he not laughing, the jovial bird ? 
My robin peers out from his cage in the hall. 
Strutting, and fluting loudly; 
Rapid and clear is his morning call, 
Graceful and cheering his madrigal, 
Bird neyer sung more proudly; 
Back to the apple tree flies my thrush, 
Strikes a fine chord through the calm and hush, 
That follows my robin’s melodious strain, 
And gives him his strophes all back again. 
Bobalink whistles his treble note, 
Rossignol sings a minute: 
Delicate airs up the ether float. 
Melody pours from each vocal throat, 
Tanager, jay and linnet. 
Let them all flutter in plumage bright, 
Warble and sing from morn till night, 
Still, my plain mocking-bird there in the tree, 
Proves himself master of minstrelsy. 
oe 
AMPERSAND MOUNTAIN. 
—__>——— 
A BIRDSEYE VIEW OF THE ADIRONDACKS. 
ee 
Dr. W. W. Ely, of Rochester, whose valuable map of 
the Adirondack region is well known and properly appre- 
ciated by most sportsmen in this part of the world, has 
lately addressed a letter to the New York Commercial Ad- 
vertiser, which we are conferring a benefit upon our readers 
in copying. Such emanations from gentlemen ‘‘who speak 
by authority, and not as the scribes,” are rare, and ought 
to be widely circulated and carefully preserved. The Doc- 
tor writes in this wise :— 
“Those who are familiar with the Saranac lakes and their 
surroundings will at once recall the position of Ampersand 
Mountain, lying southeast from the Middle Saranac, or 
Round Lake, from which its base is about two miles dis- 
tant. The Stony Creek Mountains, which extend west- 
ward from Ampersand, form with it a barrier, which ob- 
structs the view of the higher Adirondack ranges from this 
central lake and its vicinity. 
‘Ampersand is one of the lesser mountains of the west- 
ern range, of which Whiteface, Seward, Sandanona, and 
Mt. Emmons are the principal peaks. Its altitude has not 
been ascertained. It may prove to be somewhat lower than 
Blue Mountain (or Mt. Emmons), whose height is 3,595 feet. 
Notwithstanding its inferior altitude, being comparatively 
isolated, its position makes it favorable for observations, 
“For general description, we may say that the long axis 
of the mountain is about three miles east and west, while 
its base transversely is narrow, so that the slope of the sides 
is steep, and in many places precipitous walls of rock, 
scarcely concealed by a sparse growth of evergreens. The 
outline of the mountain is irregular, the higher part con- 
sisting of two rounded peaks, separated by a sharp sag, the 
eastern peak being the higher. These peaks are traversed 
by gorges, which, being concealed by trees, are not dis- 
tinctly seen at a distance. The north side rises from a level 
forest which separates the base from the Saranac Lakes and 
river. The south side is made up of parallel ridges, 
through which the sources of Coldbrook flow eastward, 
and from this valley other mountains rise abruptly, over 
which are seen still others in close proximity as far as the 
eye canreach. At the foot of the western half of Amper- 
sand, south, lies the solitary and picturesque Ampersand 
Pond, so named from some resemblance to this alphabetic 
character. Onthe eastern shore of this pond are the re- 
mains of the ‘Philosopher’s Camp,’ a log hut erected many 
years ago for Agassiz, Lowell, Homes, and others. This 
spot is sufficiently retired, being five miles in the deep 
woods, and ten froma base of supplies. It isa gloomy 
place, and we are not surprised that ‘philosophers’ of their 
stamp forsook it for more genial associations. 
“From the Valley of Ampersand Pond outlet, running 
west, and another valley intersecting it running south, rises 
the majestic Mount Seward, which, with its three grand 
peaks, is thus visible from crown to base. 
“On the north side of Ampersand the lumberman has 
pushed his way as far as his labor could be made available 
or profitable. Beyond this the line of the trapper may be 
seen, while the deer hunter has followed his game still 
higher along the base of the mountain. But above this 
there is no evidence that the foot of man had ever trod. 
Tn olden times it was ranged by the moose, whence its for- 
mer name of Moose Mountain, and later the panther and 
the beaver have enjoyed its rocky recesses undisturbed. 
‘‘At Bartlett’s ‘Sportsman’s Home,’ between the Upper 
Saranac and Round Lakes, the mountain is a prominent ob- 
ject. One never tires of watching the contrast, in varying 
lights, of the dark evergreen with the hardwood foliage of 
the intervening hills. Here also, clouds and mist, blue 
haze, and the purple light of the setting sun, may be seen 
and enjoyed, although certainly not on so grand a scale as 
in some other parts of this mountain region. 
“Tt is not strange that such an object, habitually seen dur- 
ing visits to the woods, should excite the desire to become 
more intimately pequatatod with it, and with the prospect 
which might possibly be enjoyed from its summit. Ac- 
cordingly, last year (1872), a preliminary exploration was 
made, which, in the time allotted to it, sufficed only to re- 
yeal the precipices in the line of the route then selected. 
On further consultation with an experienced woodsman, it 
was determined to make another trial on the opposite side, 
from near the site of the Philosopher’s Camp. This con- 
sumed two days, and was rewarded with the discovery of 
the highest peak, a flat-topped cone, having a surface 
twenty feet wide and thirty in length, from which the view 
on both sides was found to be of great extent and interest. 
Postponing further explorations, for want of time, until the 
present year, on the 31st of July we ascended the moun- 
tain again by the old southern trail, reaching the top at 
six o’clock P. M. We slept on the summit without shelter, 
the wind howling wildly over our heads, while drizzling 
rain towards evening, with a dense fog, seemed as if in- 
tended to discourage our efforts. As this visit, however, 
was intended chiefly to open a path down the north side of 





























































of the southern ascent and its difficulties might be avoided, 
only to sight-seeing. Having previously determined on the 
course, the path was selected with the aid of the compass, 
while our men blazed the line and cut out the obstructions. 
As we were seven hours in making this trail, it may be in- 
sufficient for the descent. The trail scarcely deviates from 
a northwesterly course coming down. 
forest paths and steep ascents. It is two miles distant from 
Bartlett’s, and may be reached by boat in half an hour. 
fortably on the summit. 
visitors, &e. 
the enterprise. 
the 13th, with three men, 
provisions, &c., and reached the top after noon. 
was consumed in building our shanty of logs and_ bark, 
which at nine A. M. wasin a condition to protect us in case 
of storm, The next day our Tip Top House was comple- 
ted, being nicely covered with bark, the chinks filled with 
moss, so that it subsequently proved a perfect defense 
against rain. Being nine feet long, with an open front and 
southeastern outlook, a party of six will find it very com- 
fortable, and, for the woods, an elegant structure of its 
kind. Our blazing fire at night was seen at different and 
He at once expressed a desire to join me in 
and pack baskets with blankets, 
fire-arms and other demonstrations which the distance pre- 
vented us from noticing. Our stalwart and obliging men 
were now set to work with their axes in all directions—on 
the edge of precipices, in deep gorges, anywhere—as trees 
interfered with the prospect. We spent three nights on the 
mountain, and three days at this work, returning at the 
close of the fourth day. 
“T may here note that_on the second day (14th), a well- 
known gentleman from Boston, and his daughter, made us 
a visit. We were happy to welcome the first lady to the 
top of our mountain and the shelter of our shanty. They 
expressed themselves delighted in the highest degree with 
the outlook. After finishing our clearing-we had an ex- 
tended horizon, losing only the portions lying in the axis of 
the mountain east and west. The views on the north and 
the south sides are entirely different in character. On the 
south, Ampersand Pond and the whole of Long Lake are 
the chief visible waters, while innumerable mountains of 
the loftiest class are seen in all directions, as Seward, San- 
danona, Emmons, McIntyre, and other mountains in Keene 
and North Elba. It is mountains, mountains everywhere. 
On the north side there is more of the picturesque. Ina 
semi-circle, with a horizon twenty-five miles distant, are 
also mountains without number, and a vast spread of for- 
est, with lakes and ponds, of which not less than thirty are 
seen in different directions. Here we look down upon the 
beautiful valley of the Saranac river, with its hamlets and 
ponds, down to Franklin Falls; the Lower Saranac and 
Round Lakes, with all their islands and _ tributaries; the 
Upper Saranac Lake also, with Cox’s Hotel at the head and 
Bartlett's Settlement on the outlet, are distinctly visible. 
The lower half of Tupper’s Lake, Mount Morris hiding its 
southern part, Raquette Pond and the farm buildings near 
it appear in the west. Big and Little Clear Ponds and 
St. Regis waters are visible. At the Lower St. Regis Paul 
Smith’s is hidden by trees. Here and there in the forests 
we notice sparse settlements, and the isolated, solitary 
dwelling of backwoodsmen.’ Great swamps, with their 
sharply defined outlet of trees, look in the distance like 
farm clearings. Large fire slashes break the continuity of 
the green woods with their brown, dusky hues. Such a 
panorama, of which only some general points can be no- 
ticed, is well worth the time and labor spent in reaching 
the summit of Ampersand. 
“The Adirondack wilderness, formerly visited by a few 
adventurous sportsmen, and almost unknown to the people 
of the State in which it lies, has, within a few years, be- 
come one of the most popular resorts for tourists. Hotel 
accommodations have been multiplied, but they are still 
scarcely adequate for the demands of visitors during the 
travelling season. Of the throngs who resort to the woods, 
but few can enjoy the pursuits of hunting and fishing. Be- 
sides, game no longer exists in its former abundance. 
Sporting must continue to afford less and less inducement 
to visit the wilderness, and must be superseded by new ob- 
jects of interest—the climate, the peculiar local institutions, 
the boating, the rough and salutary exercises and exposures, 
and the unsurpassed natural scenery will remain. There 
will ever be wild passes to traverse, and rugged and difficult 
mountains to climb. The grand mountains of Essex, such 
as Dix, Marcy, McIntyre, Whiteface, are well known to the 
tourist. It is believed that the less lofty Ampersand is des- 
tined to attract attention as well as the old favorites, now that 
the way has been opened and the outlook has been tested 
and approved. The ascent of this mountain requires no 
deviation from the usual route through the Saranac waters. 
It may be made an incident of travel, involving but little 
delay, to those who are passing in or out of the wilderness 
in this direction. Wie Wed 
“Upper Saranac Lake, August 18th.” 
<-> — 

—On Gringley-on-the-Hill, in Yorkshire, England, a pair 
of three year old horses were bought about 1864. They 
have been worked ever since, and the distance they have 
travelled has considerably exceeded 30,000 miles. They 
have worn out six sets of carriage wheels, and are going 
along as merrily to-day as five year olds, 
the mountain to Round Lake, so that the extended circuit 
the unfavorable state of the atmosphere was a hindrance 
ferred that it was thoroughly done—two hours now being 
: , c Tt is free from preci- 
pices or difficulties: of any kind, except those incident to 
The mountain may be ascended in three or four hours, re- 
turning the same day, or the night may now be spent com- 
“Meeting my friend Dr. William Read of Boston, on the 
12th of August, on his return from camping, I informed 
him what had been done, and of my purpose to clear off 
the top of the mountain, and erecta shanty for the use of 
We started accordingly on the morning of 
The day 
distant points, and was signalled at Bartlett’s by volleys of 






AN OLD SPORTSMAN OF THE SEVEN- 
TEENTH CENTURY. 
pg eee 
N the Connoisseur of 1755, there is a portrait of a brave 
old sportsman of the time of Charles the First. There is 
a truthfulness, a strength, a fidelity in the way it is ren- 
dered, that makes it a picture as vivid as if worked up by 
the pencil of a Wouvermans or a Terburg: 
“In the year 1638 lived Mr. Hastings; by, his quality, 
son, brother, and uncle to the Earls of Huntingdon. He 
was, peradventure, an original in our age; or rather the 
copy of an ancient nobility, in huntiug, not in warlike 
times. 
He was low, very strong, and very active; of a reddish 
flaxen hair. His clothes always green cloth, and never all 
worth, when new, five pound. 
His house was perfectly of the old fashion, in the midst 
of a large park well stocked with deer; and near the house 
rabbits to serve his kitchen; many fish-ponds: great store 
of wood and timber; a bowling green in it, long but nar- 
row, full of high ridges, it being never leveled since it was 
ploughed. They used round sand bowls; and it hada ban- 
queting house like a stand, built in a tree. 
He kept all manner of sport hounds, that ran buck, fox, 
hare, otter, and badger; and hawks. long and short winged. 
He had all sorts of nets for fish. He hada walk in the 
New Forest, and the manor of Christ-church. This last 
supplied him with red deer, sea, and river fish. And in- 
deed all his neighbors’ grounds and royalties were free to 
him, who bestowed allhis time on these sports. He was 
very popular, always speaking kindly to the husband, 
father, or brothers of the manor on his estate, and the 
men were very welcome to his house; whenever they came 
they found beef, pudding, and small beer in great plenty. A 
house not so neatly kept as to shame him or his dirty shoes; 
the great hall strewed with marrowbowns, full of hawks, 
perches, hounds, spaniels, and terriers; the upper side of 
the hall hung with fox skins of this and the last year’s 
killing, here and there a polecat_intermixed; game-keeper’s 
and hunters’ poles in great abundance. 
The parlor was a large room, as properly furnished. 
On a great hearth, paved with brick, lay some terriers, and 
choicest hounds and spaniels. Seldom but two of the great 
chairs had litters of young cats in them, which were not to 
be disturbed; he having always.three or four attending 
him at dinner; and a little white stick of fourteen inches 
lying by his trencher, that he might defend such meat as 
he had no mind part with to them. The windows, which were 
very large, served for places to lay his arrows, crossbows, 
stonebows, ‘and other such like accoutrements. The cor- 
ners of the room full of the best-chose hunting hawk poles. 
An oyster table at the lower end, which was of constant 
use twice a day all the year round. For he never failed to 
eat oysters, before dinner and supper, through all seasons; 
the neighboring town of Pool supplied him with them. 
The upper part of the room had two small tables and a 
desk, on the one side of which wasa church Bible, and 
on the other the book of martyrs. On the tables were 
hawks-hoods, bells, and such like; two or three old green 
hats with their crowns thrust in so as to hold ten or a 
dozen eggs, which were of a pleasant kind of poultry he 
took much care of and fed himself. Tables, ‘dice, cards, 
and boxes, were not wanting. Inthe holes of the desk 
were store of tobacco pipes that had been used. 
On one side of this end of the room was the door of a 
closet wherein stood the strong beer and the wine: which 
never came thence but insingle glasses; that being the rule 
of the house exactly observed. For he never exceeded in 
drink, or permitted it. 
On the other side was the door into an old chapel, not 
used for devotion. The pulpit, as the safest place, was 
never wanting of acold chine of beef, venison pasty, 
gammon_ of bacon, or great apple-pie with{thick crust, cx- 
tremely baked. 
His table cost him not much, though it was good to eat 
at. His sports supplied all but beef and mutton, except 
Fridays, when he had the best salt-fish, as well as other 
fish, he could get; and was the day his neighbors of best 
quality most visited him, He never wanted a London 
pudding, and always sung it in with ‘my part lies therein- 
a.’ He drank a glass or two of wine at meals; very often 
syrup of gulliflower in his sack: and had always a tun 
glass, without feet, stood by him, holding a pint of small 
beer, which he often stirred with rosemary. 
He lived to be a hundred; never lost his eyesight, but 
always wrote and read without spectacles; and got on 
horseback without help. Until fourscore he rode to the 
death of a stag as well as any.” 
+ 
A DEFENCE FoR ScrentTIFIC Epucarion.—In speaking of 
scientific education, M. de Quatrefages, President of the 
French Association for the advancement of science, stated 
as follows: 
“That the devotees of literature accused science of stifl- 
ing sentiment and imagination; she kills, they say, the ideal 
and stunts intelligence by imprisoning it within the limits 
of reality; she is incompatible with poetry. The men who 
speak thus have never read Kepler the astronomer, Paseal 
the geometer, Linneus the naturalist, Buffon the zoologist, 
Humboldt the universal savant. What! says the President, 
science stifle sentiment, imagination, she who brings us 
every hour into the presence of wonders! She lower in- 
tellizence, who touches on all the infinities!| When littera- 
teurs and poets know science better, they will come and 
draw from her living foutnain. Like Byren of our time, 
like Homer of yore, they will borrow from her striking 
imagery, descriptions whose grandeur will be doubled by 
their truth. Homer was a savant for his time. He knew 
the geography, the anatomy of his era; we find in his verses 
the names of islands and capes. technical terms like selavi- 
cle and scapula. None the less he wrote the Iliad.” 
0g 
The French aeronaut, Pointevin, took up, suspended 
from his ballocn, a spirited horse. As soon as the animal 
was off the ground, he became as still as though he had 
been paralyzed, but when he came down and dragged slow- 
ly through a cornfield, he bit at the ears of corn, though 
in a peaceful manner. It is said that a horse, when off his 
feet, loses his viciousness and puts himself completely un- 
der the control of whoever has him in charge, whereupon 
it is suggested that an acronaut voyage is a capital manner 
to tame vicious horses. 
et ote 
Darwin’s missing lynx may be found in America, 

