114 
FOREST AND ee 

—— eT 
kept submerged. When live ballast is not to be had sand 
bags are used. They are laid upon the windward wash- 
board, and, overhanging slightly at each end, they. remain 
firm in position. The helmsman also,throws his weight on 
the windward side, and-thus ballasted the canoe will carry 
all sail when Jarger craft find it necessary to reef. But it 
sometimes blows too hard for the canoe, and then a shelter 
is sought, the sail- furled, the mast unshipped, and the an- 
chor thrown out. In the event of a sudden squall, when 
even a second’s delay is dangerous, mast and sheet are 
tossed overboard, and the sheet, being made fast.aft, holds 
them alongside until the fury of the storm is spent, when 
sail is set again. There is no way of reefing the canoe’s 
sails, but when the foresail cannot be carried the mast is 
unshipped and the mainmast stepped in its place. After 
spending two months and a half in these canoes, having 
previously had much experience in yachting, in large craft 
and small, I ean:testify to their remarkable speed, strength 
and weatherly qualities. With reasonable care, protection 
from worms being most important, it is obvious they must 
last a lifetime, while no other craft is so well calculated to 
withstand the wear and tear of oystering. As for speed, 
I made the trip from Piney Point to Marshall’s, a. distance 
of fully two miles and a half, in fifteen minutes—that is to 
say, it was fifteen minutes from the time we cast off from 
Piney Point wharf until we passed the end of Marshall’s 
wharf. It took one minute more toround up and land 
upon the wharf. The canoe was of the smallest class, and 
carried-but.a single sail. On this occasion I had one pas- 
senger, and he was kept busy bailing until we passed from 
the Potomac, through the Straits, into the St. George’s 
river. On a straight course, and for shorter distances, even 
better time has been made. I-write only of what I know, 
but may mention that aparty of three claimed to have 
sailed in a canoe from Point Lookout to Marshall's, distance 
fifteen miles, in one hour and ten minutes. It was blow- 
inga gale atthe time, but it is incredible that a smail 
canoe, with a single sail, could have been driven through 
the water at that rate of speed. Those who choose to be- 
lieve the statement—I do not—can do so. 
Staunch and safe as are the canoes when manned by ex- 
perienced hands, there must necessarily be times of peril 
and hairbreadth escapes when one tempts the elements 
daily and nightly. Of these I had full share during my 
sojourn at Marshall’s, for I almost lived in my little canoe, 
the ‘‘Bluebird,” which, though the smallest of the fleet, 
was more than a match forthe largest. She carried her 
canvas nobly, too, but a wetter craft ina gale or rough 
water it would be hard to find. She was so sharp forward 
that she would bury her bow under and take in water by 
the bucketful, and keep one man bailing constantly. De- 
spite this well-known fact, I never wanted for passengers 
in the roughest of weather, even among the ladies. Braver 
women I never met—they put even the men to the blush. 
One dark night I started homeward from Piney Point with 
two passengers, husband and wife. The Potomac was un- 
usually rough, the wind blowing half a gale, and I began 
to fear for the nerves of my passengers. Three canoes had 
started before us, the first having been gone at least ten 
minutes, and as the ‘‘Bluebird” shot out from the wharf, 
and, feeling the full force of the wind and sea, dipped 
her lee washboard under and scooped up the water with 
her bow, I had little hopes of overtaking them. The water 
was soon over our ankles, but it was not safe to change posi- 
tion to use the bailer, and so it was allowed to swash back- 
ward and forward. We were enveloped all the time in 
showers of spray, and my lady passenger, being in an ex- 
posed position, occasionlly was struck by a sea, drenching 
her from. head to foot. This she did not seem to mind in 
the least, and when near the mouth of the Straits I caught 
sight of a sail to leeward and exclaimed, ‘‘I believe we 
shall beat them after all,” she burst forth with ‘‘Beat them, 
beat them; I don’t care if I get wet through, and every- 
thing I have onis spoiled, if you will only beat them.” 
Of course I did my best. The canoe to leeward was the 
‘“‘Pocomoke.”’. She was soon disposed of, and on entering 
the St. George’s the ‘‘George Washington” was overhauled 
and passed as if she had beenanchored. When we reached 
the wharf the ‘‘Gibson,” which left some time after the 
‘‘Pocomoke” and George Washington,” but two or three 
minutes before the ‘‘Bluebird,” had just arrived, so that in 
time we beat the fleet, and my lady passenger was wet to 
the skin, but happy. 
Later in the season I made a more eventful trip. The R. 
family were to take the steamer one Friday night for Wash- 
ington, andI had promised to take them over to Piney 
Point in the ‘‘Bluebird.” The steamer was due at the Point 
at midnight, so that it was not necessary to leave Marshall’s 
before ten o’clock, or even later; but at dark the weather 
became very threatening, and everybody predicted a severe 
storm. I therefore advised Mr. R. to. send his wife and 
children in one of the larger boats, or by wagon, but: said I 
should make the trip myself and would take a passenger or 
two, provided they had nerve and could swim. I had got 
up sail and was laying alongside the wharf awaiting the 
movements of the other canoes when Mr. R. came down 
and began putting his family on board. I did not like the 
responsibility thus thrust upon me, but was glad of such 
pleasant company. I called up a young man whom I knew 
to be an expert swimmer to accompany me,.and then push- 
ed off with Mrs. R. and two children. It was plain: sailing 
enough down to the Straits, though the fitful gusts which 
now and then struck the sail gave warning of what. was to 
come. From the lee side of the Straits it was possible to 
make Piney Point wharf with the sail trimmed flat; but as 
this course was near the shore, where the water was roughest; 

and ‘as’ 51 feared that ‘‘Bluebird” could not carry hier canvas 
“if close on the wind, I tacked and made the weather side ‘of 
the Straits, and being there sheltered by St. George’s Island, 
trimmed-my sail aft, and headed along way above my 
point of destination. By this means we were enabled to 
make the trip without a wetting or serious danger, for when 
we lost the shelter of the island we were so far to windward 
that I could ease off sheet gradually, as the wind increased, 
and when we finally headed direct for the warf, we had the 
wind at our stern. The waves were rolling high, and as 
the spray flew ten or twelve feet up the shore, it was impos- 
sible to land on the beach, as we had intended, so we made 
fast to the wharf, the cap of which was above our heads, it 
being low tide, and as there were no steps the passengers had 
to be lifted and pulled up bodily while the canoe was jump- 
ing about in the liveliest possible manner. 
However, the 
debarkation was accomplished, and there we stood anxiously 

|and R..J. Marshall, the proprietor, is a whole-souled fellow. 
The steamer Georgianna, leaving Baltimore and Washing- 
ton once a week, lands passengers at Marshall’s wharf. 
Cuarums A. PILsBURY. 
oo 
SPORT ALONG THE NORTHERN PACIFIC. 

BRAINARD, Mryn., September 23, 1873. 
Eprror ForEsT AND STREAM :— 
The great enterprise of the day in this far-away country, 
the Northern Pacific Railroad, its princely land grant, its 
miles and miles of garden-like prairie, its leagues and 
leagues of pine forest, its mines of gold, silver, and coal 
beyond the Missouri, its (even now) enormous carrying 
trade, its gold bearing lands, &c., &c., have been adver- 
tised far and wide, and now something should be said re- 
garding it from a sportsman’s point of view. 
We have in quest of sport with the rifle and the rod 
upon the warf with eyes piercing the gloom for a glimpse 
of the boats that started after us. Soon the sound of voices 
was heard, but it was not until some time that we discover- 
ed a boat, which proved to be the ‘‘Aurelia,” a flat-bot- 
tomed, sharp-bowed craft, on the shore a short distance 


roamed over a vast stretch of country, from the Thousand 
Islands tothe gulf of St. Lawrence; have put our line in 
in nearly every lake and stream in the Adirondacks from 
the base of the lonely Mt. Seward, to Lou Fuller’s.home- 
below. Before‘she could be pushed off her passengers, 
mostly ladies, were thoroughly drenched with the spray 
As her sail filled and she stood off 
shore she was lost to sight; and mind, too, for just then the 
‘‘Pocomoke” hove in sight and came under the lee of the 
Now we began to feel anxious about the ‘‘Aurelia” 
Minute after minute passed, and 
she did not appear, but as we were about to send the ‘‘Po- 
comoke”’ to the rescue, she bore in sight, and her demoralized 
passengers were soon though not without difficulty, landed 
It seems that while ashore her center-board 
was raised, and left up, and the fact was not discovered 
that broke over her. 
wharf. 
and her precious freight. 
upon the pier. 
until the boat had drifted a long distance to leeward. 
The wind had been steadily increasing all this time, and 
as we looked out over the troubled waters of the Potomac 
for the steamer’s lights, the prospect for the trip home ap- 
At half-past twelve the 
steamer having come and gone, and our friends departed 
peared anything but favorable. 
in her, preparations were made for returning to Marshall’s. 
The step which held the Aurelia’s mast having worked 
loose she was declared unseaworthy and it was decided to 
This left only the ‘‘Poco- 
leave her alongside the wharf. 
moke,” and ‘‘Bluebird” available. As skipperof the latter, 
I proposed to take one gentleman with me, provided he 
could swim. The only volunteer | had was a lady, who 
quite insisted on going, but whom I positively refused to 
expose to the dangers of such atrip in so small a craft. 
The proprietor of the Piney Point Hotel, and some of his 
guests, did all in their power to prevent any one of us from 
I have several times mentioned a half 
facing the storm. 
a gale of wind, but this was a full-fledged gale, with a night 
dark as pitch, and waves rolling as I had never seen them 
However, the result of it all was that I 
started off first, alone, in the ‘“‘Bluebird,” carrying the ‘‘Po- 
on the Potomac. 
comoke’s” mainsail, in place of my own mast and sail, 
which were laid inboard. Two ladies and one gentleman 
were to come after in the ‘‘Pocomoke,”’ with Jim Middle- 
ton, a trusty colored man, at the helm, and the remainder 
of the party—including several gentlemen, to their shame 
be it said—were packed into a two-seated wagon for an 
overland trip. So far as my personal experiences are con- 
cerned I never faced a wilder night. The ‘‘Bluebird” car 
ried her canvas well enough, but the waves caught her up 
and tossed her about as though she were an egg shell, the 
rudder having no hold at times; and then the spray, not to 
mention the buckets full of brine which occasionally struck 
me full in the face, so blinded me that all I could do was 
to cling with one hand to the washboard, the other grasp- 
ing the tiller, and let her go. So violent was the motion 
that had I not held on I should certainly have gone over- 
board, and I.expected every moment the canoe would go 
bottom up. It was like being tossed in a blanket... Fortu- 
nately the wind held so that I could lay the course. for the 
Straits, but I had to sail it from instinct, there being no 
land-mark, visible to guide me. When I did enter the 
Straits they were white with foaming breakers from shore 
to shore. Through there, with the wind dead-aft, the 
“Bluebird” flew with the speed of a race-horse, and once 
more in the placid waters of the St. George’s I breathed free- 
ly. I was wet to the skin from head to foot, and the canoe 
was full of water to within three inches of the gunwale, 
but I had braved the severest storm of the season, learned 
what a canoe cando, and was happy. The ‘‘Pocomoke” 
arrived not long after me, her passengers dripping but better 
satisfied with themselves than were those who had shown 
the white feather and taken to the wagon. I mention these 
incidents to show that canoeing on the Potomac is not all 
fair weather sailing; and with regard to the frequent use of 
the personal pronoun I may say thatI prefer to write of 
what I know rather than of what I hear. Others may have 
had even more eventful canoe voyages, in which case I hope 
they will narrate them for the entertainment of the readers 
of ForEsT AND STREAM. 
A word or two as to the cost of canoes. A two-masted, 
centre-board canoe, fully equipped may be bought for from 
$75 to. $125. The price, of course, depends upon age, con- 
dition, etc., as with other craft. St. Mary’s County, Mary- 
land, is said to own the fastest and handsomest canoes,. but 
strange to say they are mostly built on the Virginia shore, 
a short distance above Norfolk. They may be bought from 
the yards there, the hulls alone, unpainted, for $20 or $30. 
In conclusion let me commend the St. George’s Hotel, 
Piney Point, St. Marys Co., Md., to sportsmen who may 
conclude to visit the lower Potomac. Terms are moderate, 
like place on ever-to-be-remembered Meacham lake; have 
-still-hunted the deer, and followed the lordly moose amid 
the forests of the upper Ottawa and Covlonge; but we 
never have had better or more diversified sport, than here 
along the line of the Northern Pacific Railroad, during the 
last three years. Let us take the route from St. Paul in 
the morning; a few hours ride brings you to the Northern 
Pacific Railroad Junction; a few miles from here occurs the 
first lake. Island lake, two bodies of water, full of fish, 
bass, pike, perch, and pickerel, and where the lakes join at 
the south end, is a large field of wild rice, a splendid place 
to shoot ducks as they fly pack and forth. Stopping at 
Withington station, a half mile walk takes us to Serpert lake, 
the lake of all others in the country, for the finest game-fish 
we have, the black bass. This lovely lake two years ago 
was almost unknown to the white man; its cold crystal 
waters had never known the touch of the keel of any cratfi 
save the bark canoe of the Chippewa; the writer and a friend 
put the first row-boat in the lake, and in one short happy 
afternoon caught one hundred and seventy-eight bass 
and two maskalonge, with which we made glad the hearts 
of our friends who were too busy ‘‘ to go a-fishing.” 
These uneducated fish will bite ravenously at anything, 
a spoon, a red rag, a piece of pork, or perch, any bait in 
fact, but the way to take them and get the most fun out of 
it, is with light trout tackle, a long leader with two or 
three red ibis flies. Late in the afternoon, towards dark, a 
large white fly will bring them springing out of the water, 
reminding the angler of past days, when he threw his fly 
for speckled trout at Racquette Falls, or Meacham outlet, 
in the Adirondacks. ;These fish weigh fron one to six pounds, 
and whena couple of four pounders get hooked the tisher- 
man must have his wits about him if he does not wish to loose 
his flies and leader, or have his rod broken. To stand in 
the bow of a steady boat, well equipped with light strong 
tackle, have your paddler gently send the boat around the 
gravelly shores in and out of the deep bays, over the stony 
rifts, and hook a black bass every few moments is well 
worth a trip to this country to enjoy. 
Crossing over the Serpent to Agate lake, a forty rod 
carry (stopping on the way to look at the sugar works of 
the Indians, and may be to air our knowledge of the Chip- 
pewa language’ with some of the smoked Americans, we 
are sure to meet), brings us to a small bow]l-shaped pond, 
very deep and containing fish very similar in quality and 
kind to those in the Serpent lake. It derives its name from 
the quantity of agates and cornelians found among the 
pebbles on its shores. A half mile carry from here brings 
us to Rabbit lake, a large body of water, very fishy, the - 
outlet ten miles long. A sluggish stream winding through | 
rice fields, affording good duck shooting, brings us to the 
Mississippi river, fifteen miles from Brainard, the young 
and prosperous city of the Pines, the western headquarters 
of the Northern Pacific Railroad Company. West from 
Brainard twelve miles, is lake Sullivan; named one joyous 
afternoon ayear ago, in honor of Superintendent John H. 
Sullivan, formerly of the Hannibal and St. Joseph and 
other south western roads. Sullivan lake resembles Ser- 
pent lake in its general outlines, wooded shoresand stonv 
banks: and the fishing is equally good. . 
A delightful trip is to goto Aitken, twenty-eight miles 
east, launch your bark canoe on Mud river, following that | 
crooked stream a mile, enter the Mississippi river, and 
come down stream a hundred miles to this point, getting 
fish, duck, grouse, and perhaps ashot at a deer or bear. 
West from here to the Mississippi river, the country at 
this time is alive with game, pin-tail, pinnated and ruffed 
grouse, snipe, plover, rail, and ducks of all kinds in count- 
less thousands. At Yargo and Moosehead, on the Red 
river, there are good hotel accommodations and game ‘‘till 
you can’t rest.” 
Parties coming here should make Brainard their head- 
quarters for fishing operations, catch bass and maskinonge 
till they are tired, take the steamer Pokezoma and ascend 
the Mississippi river four hundred miles into the wilderness, 
look the country over, and then ‘‘go west,” with Heir 
breech loaders into the first hunting country of the State. 
Brainard is situated on a high level plateau of ground tim- 
bered heavily with pines for miles around, thus being shel- 
tered from the cold winds of winter, and singularly. ex- .- 
empt at all times from sickness of any ina. Invalids who .. 
have been here, particularily those suffering from lung dis- 
ease, have been materially benefited, and if not too far 
gone, if they will come here, take care of themselves, ‘‘ live 
cleanly and eschew sack,” they will renew their ‘‘lease of 

