100 
FOREST AND STREAM 


For Lorest and Stream. 
NARRAGANSETT BAY. 
we es 
VIEWED FROM THE ESTATE OF E. D. PEARCE, ESQ., SEPTEMBER, 1873. 
°VE wandered far and been in many places, 
With heeding mind, fixed thought and open eyes, 
And memory paints but few with half the graces 
Of the fair scene which now before me lies. 
I see the city’s spires and silvery dome, 
Its trees, the wharves, its bridges all in sight, 
The noble river safely bearing home 
Its fleet of summer steamers, swift and white. 
The breeze brings music from the crowded deck, 
With rousing chorus from the happy throng; 
While new formed wavelets roll to shore and break 
Where Flora’s offerings from the sea are strewn. 
Oh lovely peaceful stream! not more of praise 
Thy beauty, than thy graceful bosom given 
To serve thy Maker’s will, and make our days 
Of pleasure brighter—less of earth than heaven! 
A wooded height along the river’s side 
Slopes gently downward to the water's edge, 
And birds are there, and sing and chirp and glide 
In graceful flight from drooping branch and sedge. 
The puffing engine flies alongits way 
Past vale and rock, with steady hand to guide; 
Cool breezes blow throughout the summer day 
And cedars shade me as I walk beside, 
My steps are slow—I fain would linger long 
And give to memory all the beauty here, 
And so recall the birds’ melodious song 
And feel the river, woods and meadows near. 
Think of their quiet when I’m far away, 
While noisy business works my soul-life low, 
Vl oft look backward on thi§ happy day 
And wish me watching these fair waters flow. 
: R. FARQUHAR. 
Zunting Caribon in Jlova Sratia. 
CoBEQuip, MouNTAINS, ) 
Near WeEstcHEsTER, Nova Scortra, 
Septemper 8th, 1873. ) 
Eprror of Forest AND STREAM:—. 
Thanks to some instructions given by you to me, as to 
time and locality, while in your city in June last, I have 
had the satisfaction of killing my first caribou. As I had 
informed you, when last I had the pleasure of seeing you, 
J was not unfamiliar with hunting this animal, having killed 
three caribou in 1871, and two last year in New Brunswick. 
My traps had sent toa friend in Halifax about the 
middle of August, and I found them in good order on ar. 
rival. At Halifax I stayed a day, and bought a Hudson 
Bay frieze coat, an admirable protection for bad weather. 
This with two rubber blankets, a bag or so of buck shot, 
and a special kind of camp hatchet, made for me deftly by 
a clever Irish blacksmith, completed my list of purchases. 
Early next morning after an admirable breakfast at the 
Halifax House, I took the Inter-Colonial railway to Truro, 
stopping there at the Prince of Wales Hotel, kept by the 
most jovial of hosts and Scots, Mr. McKenzie. Truro is a 
charming little village at the head of an arm of the Bay of 
Fundy, and is much visited, being the best place to see the 
wonderful tidal action of the water, known as the Bore. 
Every fine day hundreds of people drawn from all parts 
of the world assemble on the bridge which spans the Sal- 
mon River, awaiting the coming of the huge tidal wave. 
Sometimes when wind and tide favor, it rises like a wall, 
ten feet high, and sweeps on up the Sound. I.know of no 
phenomenon which impresses one more vividly with the 
idea of the grand, rythmic power of nature, and I fancy 
if Herbert Spencer had ever seén it, he would have used it as 
an illustration. I took some pains to measure accurately 
the absolute rise of the tide. Taking my sea tackle and 
sinker, and letting it fall until it touched the bottom, at 
low water, landing the sinker fast in the mud, and marking 
the length of the line afterwards, where it was just on the 
top of the water, the difference I found to be be sixty-four 
feet, eleven inches. Its approach is heralded by a deep, 
sullen roar. 


At Truro I remained all day, having to make arrange- 
ments for the hiring of horse and buggy for a week or so, 
not only to carry me and my traps to Purdy’s, some thirty- 
five miles distant, but to facilitate any movements I might 
desire to make. Next morning, with a very good horse, 
and a rough but strong vehicle, furnished me by McKenzie, 
I started on my way, my road having been quite thoroughly 
explained tome. The country I passed through was mag- 
nificent. Dark, umbrageous spruce woods, sombre in char- 
acter, were relieved occasionally by the brighter colored 
maples. Sometimes gloomy gorges, hardly wide enough 
for the buggy to pass through, were almost sepulchral from 
the heavy shadows of the mountains. 
In one place the road led along a mere shelf of rock, the 
Londonderry, a noble stream, rushing along below me. It 
was a rough road, so that it was almost nightfall before I 
reached Purdy’s. There I found myself in admirable 
quarters. To the kindness of the host, Mr. Purdy, was 
added the more delicate attentions of the Misses Purdy, 
three very handsome and highly educated women. As Pur- 
dy’s was to be my base of operations, I immediately com- 
menced getting together my supplies, and the question of 
guides was paramount. Ihad the choice of several excel- 
lent men. Following the advice of my host, I chose George 
Beesewanger, a native of the place, and secured his ser- 
vices, agreeing to pay him $150 a day and to find him. 
! 
My second guide I was instructed to find later. 
_caribou hunter, who tilled a farm there. 

At Purdy’s 
I laid in the heavy rations, such as pork, tea, cofitee, flour, 
Indian meal, &e. 
There never was such a glorious view as I had from my 
window when I rose next morning. Far, far below me were 
interminable forests of spruce, huge billows of green 
leaves, surging to and fro with the breeze, and away beyond 
lay placidly the dark blue waters of the Bay of Fundy. I 
tarried here fully three days—days of delightful laziness, 
pure days of sensuous enjoyment—pretending, it is true, to 
perfect my arrangements, just breathing in the fragrance of 
the glorious woods, perhaps a little indifferent ‘as to cari- 
bou. At last Beese (the final ‘‘wanger” to his name I shall 
drop in the future as quite superfluous) said to me at din- 
ner that ‘he thought matters were now in good trim, and 
that he felt it was caribou weather, and that it was time to 
go to Castlereagh.” 
In Castlereagh dwelt John Gamble, a famous moose and 
Taking horse and 
buggy, well laden down with provisions, we left Purdy’s, 
and reached Castlereagh, a sparsely peopled settlement, at 
about dusk. Gamble I found at prayers. There was some- 
thing inexpressibly solemn in the picture I saw there. In 
the small rough house were assembled the family, and by 
the flickering fire Gamble was reading to them the prayers, 
in deep, sonorous language. I hesitated almost to tell my 
errand. The last amen was pronounced with unction, 
when I told him the purpose of my coming. ‘‘I was for 
caribou, and would he join me for ten days or so.” He 
quickly assented, and seemed pleased to go. A more wild 
place than Castlereagh, as to topography, I never saw. It 
is the ideal of a spot where civilization ends and a wilder- 
ness begins. The people who live here, some forty souls 
all told, are scattered over an area of about fifty miles. 
They are all Scotch-Irish, were among the early settlers of 
the island, and are strictly religious and trustworthy. Their 
honesty may be shown by the “fabt that a lock on a door is 
unknown. Their ideas are primitive, and their language 
Scotch-English, with a dialect of their own. With but few 
wants, ignorant of the world or its surroundings, many of 
them, perhaps, have never, save when hunting, gone out 
of the shadows of their woods. Everything was arranged 
for an early start. My party had now an addition—George 
Gamble, a highly intelligent lad of sixteen, with the pseudo- 
nym of “Dandy,” going with us. Gamble had located a 
lodge for moose and caribou some six miles from the settle- 
ment, which was our objective point. Next morning, be- 
fore dawn, we started, dividing the buggy-load between us, 
the horse and vehicle remaining at Castlereagh. My bat- 
tery consisted of a Remington, a Ballard, and a smooth 
bore No. 10. My guides told me that it would be a long 
and tedious tramp, up hill all the way, and so it proved to 
be. Bass river, quite a brawling stream, waist deep, was 
forded; no easy task for me, ‘‘heavily accoutred” as I was, 
and, after a scramble up its steep, rocky banks, at last we 
struck the woodlands. Here we visited what Dandy called 
Porcupine Den, when Dandy soon ousted a porcupine, 
which he slew. Here we halted, took a bite, and started 
again after some ten minutes’ rest, and, skirting the woods, 
a half hour before sundown reached Gamble’s lodge, just 
on the edge of the caribou barren. The lodge was well 
built; three of the walls were of logs, the other made of 
piled stones. The floor had been well rammed down, and 
it was sweet and clean. Near it gurgled a limpid spring. 
What struck me most about these Nova Scotia woods was 
the intense, almost painful stillness. Nature must take her 
kief here, to awaken later, when, in a paroxysm of passion, 
with icy blasts she lays low the majestic trees. Beese, Gam 
ble, and Dandy in a trice had everything..in military order. 
Of cooking paraphernalia, a kettle and a frying pan made 
up the catalogue. Of fragile china or stronger delf had 
we none. In a half hour, with pliant birch bark and 
threads of withewood, cups, dishes, and plates were im- 
provised, quite as useful and more durable than those made 
by the potter’s wheel. Fresh spruce boughs of aromatic 
fragrance, so excellent for consumptives, were spread on 
the floor. Dandy had killed four grouse as we left Castle- 
reagh, and a good supper was assured'us. Gamble was de- 
sirous of having variety in the menu, and on his. assuring 
me that there was a stream positively not more than forty 
yards off, I thought I would, try for a trout, though I was 
terribly tired out. With line in hand, cutting a pole as I 
went, baiting my hook with some white grub picked from 
a dead tree, in ten minutes I had some dozen trout. They 
were small ones, scarcely half pound ‘fish, but gamey and 
pleasant to catch. With Gamble as chef de cuisine, I 
watched the way he cooked them. The fish were cleaned, 
not scaled; heads and tails and fins were all left on. Each 
one was dipped into a birch bark dish, filled with meal, 
inside a piece of fat bacon was inserted, a place was made 
for it in the hot coals, and in ten minutes the fish was with- 
drawn, done toa turn. The grouse were stuffed with wild 
_ cranberries, hung from the ceiling with a bit of twine, put 
before the fire, and Dandy was set to basting ‘them, 
How good a pottaye de Porcupine is I do not. know, but 
I must confess that maple sugar as a condiment to a 
porcupine, though original, is not to be despised: A fa- 
mous pot of tea was then brewed, and we had. bread from 
the settlement. Hardly was tea swallowed, our pipes 
smoked, and the least nip of rum taken, than I got drowsy, 
and think I must have tumbled on the spruce bough covered 
floor just as I was, for in the morning, between the last 
word I had spoken or heard, and the song Dandy was sing- 
_ ing (some quaint old stave) outside the lodge at daybreak, 
there seemed to have been but the interval of a second. 
Looking at Beese, who was still sleeping, I noticed he held. 
his pipe tightly clutched between his teeth. Iran to my 
trout stream, took a single refreshing dip, and strolled. 
about some little, and arrived just in time for a glorious 
‘breakfast. 
Our first day was one simply of prospecting and finding 
out the lay of the land. A caribou barren (we were on the 
verge of one) may be described as a platteau, covered with 
a thick grey moss two or three inches thick, on which 
grows the cranberry. Here and there it is dotted over with 
huge quartz boulders, covered at their bases with that most 
succulent of mosses, the lichen, on which the caribou princi- 
pally feeds. A barren is most always intersected by a running 
stream, and there are occasional clumps of spruce. This 
tree always looks dark and sombre, and long trails of fune- 
real-like moss hang like weepers from the limbs. On this 
moss, too, the caribou feeds. The trees are mostly stunted. 
This is not owing to the winds, for the barrens are gener- 
ally encircled by the thick woods, which would keep off 
the blast, but their low growth is an effect of the soil. Dig 
where you may in the ground, when you have passed 
through the cushion of moss there is a morass below. 'To 
tread on this carpet of moss. may be the poetry of motion 
as far as softness of footfall goes, but until one is accus- 
tomed to its yielding nature it. makes walking quite 
fatiguing. There are no brambles on a barren—nothing 
but the cranberrry and whortleberry. The particular bar- 
ren we were to reconnoitre had an area of some 800 acres, 
and was completely enclosed. 
The caribou being the most sensitive and observant of 
the deer species, the utmost silence is necessary when hunt- 
ing them, so when skirting the barren, save by some mute 
signs interchanged as to direction, hunters never speak. 
We all kept together for a mile from the camp, when we 
divided, Gamble going with me in a southeasterly direc-— 
tion, and Beese and Dandy striking northwest. The woods 
on our route soon opened, and the walking became easy. 
Gamble pointed out a tree of black spruce, a perfect giant, 
which he made a sign I should climb. It was not difficult. 
to scale, and when fairly on top, with my race-glass [ 
scanned the barren we were skirting. I had a beautiful 
view of our barren, and of several barrens beyond, fully 
ten miles distant. On our barren I saw no sign of, an ani- 
mal, but on a barren I should have judged five miles off 
aay my glass I plainly made out two caribou. Gamble, 
on my descending and announcing the fact, expressed some 
doubt, but on ascending himself ver ified the statement. 
Sometime about mid-day we found Beese and Dandy, and 
after lunching we proceeded homewards by a different 
route. Dandy was the first to find caribou tracks, which 
he did cleverly in the afternoon. How he saw it I cannot 
understand, and it was some time before I could see it, but 
caribou foot it was, and a little further on the spot where 
one had laid down was pointed out tome by Gamble. It 
was determined not to follow up their track, but to still 
keep up the study of the country, so that in case one of 
the party got astray, which would probably have been my- 
self, we might have a better chance of finding our quar- 
ters. That night, around the camp-fire, Beese told mea 
hunting story about killing and landing moose, which I at 
first was inclined to doubt, until Gamble asserted its truth- 
fulness. Some seven years before, Beese said that hunting 
‘with two Indians ina rather small canoe, on the head: 
waters of the River Philip, they had shot a bull and a cow 
moose. Moose meat was scarce at the settlement, and it 
was a question how to get their carcasses home, as the 
canoe was too small to hold even 100 pounds of additional 
weight, and the two moose would gross 1,800 pounds. One 
of the Indians suggested making a boat of the bull moose 
and using it for transporting the cow. The bull was opened 
and disembowelled, the head was cut off, the neck sewed 
up, he was split carefully, ribs of wood were built into him, 
and he was launched into the stream, and so, loaded with 
the cow, was safely towed to the settlement, twenty miles 
distant. 
Next morning it rained heavily, and our camp was thor- 
oughly cleaned and guns overhauled. In the afternoon, 
the rain having changed toa drizzle, Gamble proposed our 
going to Rock Lake, some three miles distant. After 
rather a wet walk of an hour we reached the lake, and 
Gamble built a raft. One peculiarity of the lake was that 
it was always bubbling, abounding probably with -springs. 
‘Thad taken a light fly rod, and with a coachman hackle 
and Blue Professor made a cast or two without success. 
Later I tried a yellow Dun with no better luck, when choos- 
ing a Miller and a bug the. trout rose rapidly. In a half 
hour I had secured eighteen fish, of about two pounds 
each. A flock of black duck on the upper edge of the 
lake attracted our attention, and I killed five: Of course 
this shooting was done at some distance from the barren, 
as a single gun fired in its immediate proximity would have 
cleaned the ground of the caribou for a week, 
Fresh food now becoming scarce, as we had determined 
not to shoot any more, we smoked our ducks for the future, 
hanging them in the smoke of the chimney. Next day we 
started just at daybreak. The sun rose clear, dispelling the 
mist, and Gamble said it was ‘‘a fine hunting morn, and that it 
would fetch caribou.” Dandy was left in camp, and Gamble, 
Beese, and myself made the party. It was our intention 
not to return without a caribou. Wemade directly for the 
barren, but saw no sign, We now boldly crossed _ it, 
plunged into the deep forest beyond, skirted the second 
barren, and found here moose tracks three weeks old, but 
no sign of caribou. Here we came across an old Indian 
camp, which, being in good order, we took possession of, 
studying its bearings in case we should have to retrace our 
steps and spend the night there. We kept on through the 
