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^ims^sisssssmssss. 
 
 L 
 
SKETCHES AND STORIES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LAKE ERE ISLANDS 
 
 BY 
 
 THERESA THORNDALE, 
 
 e^ 
 
 SOUVENIR VOLUME 
 
 
 .« t 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 • '. 
 
 
 SANDUSKY, OHIO: 
 
 I. F. Mack ol Brother, Publishers. 
 
 1898. 
 
COPYRIGHTED 1898, 
 
 ^ V « 
 
 • •• • : 
 
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 « • • • « 
 
 REGISTER PRESS, 
 
 SANDUSKY, OHIO. 
 1898 
 
 I 
 1 
 
 18,39?0 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 A Gem of Historic Setting. 
 
 7 • • • 
 
 Perry's Victory in the Light of Local 
 Remix'scexce, 
 
 ' • • • . 
 
 Put-in- Bay in Song and Verse, 
 
 Visitors from Another World: Story of 
 THE Battle of Lake Erie, 
 
 A Notable Conspiracy: Capture of 
 Steamers Island Queen and Philo 
 Parsons by Confederate Plotters, 
 
 Summertime Saunterings Among Island 
 Resorts. • • . . . 
 
 Hotel Victory, 
 
 ' * • • • 
 
 Tent Life, ....... 
 
 Under a Steamer's Headlights: The Ad- 
 ventures OF Two Silly Girls, 
 
 Winter at an Island Resort, 
 
 An Icequake, or the Wreck of Herrlng- 
 TOWN. (Story.) .... 
 
 Romance of the Icy Plains. (Story.) 
 
 Pen Sketches of Historical Characters: 
 No. I, Capt. John Brown, Jr., 
 No. 2, Owen Brown, .... 
 
 Autumn Etchings, 
 
 Fruit Harvest in the Archipelago, 
 
 *'IsLE De Fleurs," 
 
 Middle Bass and Her Attractions, . 
 
 Experiences of an Old Doctor Among the 
 Islands, 
 
 PACE 
 
 7 
 
 23 
 35 
 
 47 
 
 68 
 
 82 
 
 94 
 I go 
 
 III 
 119 
 
 135 
 146 
 
 168 
 
 174 
 181 
 
 189 
 
 192 
 
 198 
 
L. 
 
 IV 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 Page 
 
 Perilous Adventure: Trip With the Isl- 
 and Mail, 201 
 
 Kelley Island and Her Resources, . . 208 
 
 "Echo": The Iroquois Maiden. (Story.) 220 
 
 Everything Wrong, or the Trials of 
 
 Nicholas Beetlebrow, . . .238 
 
 Adventures in Qur:EN Victoria's Dominions, 
 
 (Point Au Pelek). .... 254 
 
 Beautiful Ballast, 261 
 
 "UN».i.E Jlmmv." 266 
 
 Castled Gibraltar and its Lord, . . 271 
 
 Johnson's Island: Burial Ground of the 
 
 Confederate Dead 279 
 
 "Brown Sugar:" Reminiscence of San- 
 dusky Bay. ... • . . 289 
 
 What the Drift Brought Ashore. 
 
 (Story.) ...... 300 
 
 The Adventuri'Is of an Island "Family 
 
 Robinson." (Story.) .... 310 
 
 Castaway: Romance of Rattlesnake, . 324 
 
 Crusoe Islands of Erie, . , . .331 
 
 An Eventful Night. (Thrilling Story of 
 the Burning of Green Island Lighthouse 
 in 1864.) 339 
 
 Some Interesting Geological Features: 
 
 The "Lost Atlantis" of Lake Erie. 345 
 
 Among the Fisheries, .... 356 
 
 Storm and Darkness, . . . . 366 
 
 Wreck of the Dean Richmond, . . 373 
 
 An Old Steamer's Farewell. (Word 
 
 Etching) 376 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 As a journalist and general newspaper contrib- 
 utor, resident for several years at Put-in-Ba}', the 
 writer has been afforded ample opportunity of becom- 
 ing thoroughly acquainted with each individual island of 
 the Lake Erie group; and has frequently expressed sur- 
 prise that no literary delver has ever entered the field 
 with a view to the systematic working up of resources 
 so extensive and varied. 
 
 The object of the work here submitted is, there- 
 fore, to present in compact form a collection of inter- 
 esting and hitherto unutilized material; historical, rem- 
 iniscent, legendary, combined with story and romance, 
 tales of adventure and matter descriptive of the pict- 
 uresque and striking scenes in which the Islands 
 abound. 
 
 Though appearing in fictitious garniture, most of 
 the stories herein transcribed are founded upon fact; 
 and are true in detail to life and conditions as they ex- 
 ist in the archipelago. 
 
 While the compass of this volume is not sufficient 
 to contain all the material of interest and importance 
 which might be collected, the aim of the writer has 
 been to combine as much thereof as possible, and trusts 
 that the work may meet with a favorable reception. 
 
 The Author. 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 " O, boatman, row me gently slow, 
 Into the golden sunset glow, 
 That crowns the dying day; 
 Out where the emerald islands lie, 
 In the crimson sea of the western sky, 
 Row me away, away " 
 
 Environed by an atmosphere of 
 poetic fancy and historic lore, the 
 Islands of Lake Erie have fur- 
 nished from time to time the ba- 
 sis of many an entertaining sketch, 
 story and poem,enibodying the best 
 thoughts of some of America's 
 gifted writers. The blendings of 
 fact and fancy, and the crisply 
 touched word pictures employed 
 in the productions show an in- 
 spiration which only a meritorious 
 subject could infuse. That men 
 and women of genius have made 
 the locality a field for literary 
 and historical research, coupled 
 with the fact that it is annually 
 visited by thousands of tourists 
 and excursionists, and is constantly 
 
 becoming more widely known and popular, establishes 
 
 its claim as especially worthy of note. 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 Since, however, all that has been written concerning 
 the archipelago by visiting journalists and literary con- 
 tributors, has been of a desultory and fragmentary 
 character, the idea of collecting for preservation within 
 the compass of a volume some of the loose material 
 so abundant, has been carried out by the writer 
 in the following sketches and stories. 
 
 Approaching by any of the marine highways mark- 
 edon the charts of lake navigators, the voyager, who 
 from deck of cruising vacht or steamer first sights the 
 archipelago, is charmed by the beauty which encircles 
 and pervades it. When the islands are bright with the 
 variegated greens of summer foliage, and the tranquil 
 waters mirror the deep blue of aerial heights, the 
 group seems a veritable emerald cluster in a setting of 
 sapphire. Its dreamy groves, its vine embowered 
 haunts and ethereal distances kindle the poetic fancy 
 and delight the eye. 
 
 Down through time's dim vistas have descended 
 traditions many concerning the dusky race which 
 formerly inhabited the islands. Th:'se date back as 
 far as the 17th century, when the Eries or Eric (wild 
 cat) tribe of aborigines still existed. The history of 
 these people is broken and imperfect. At the period 
 indicated, however, the southern shores of the lake, to- 
 gether with the islands, were undoubtedly the favorite 
 hunting grounds, and formed the stage where were 
 enacted the tragic scenes which closed the drama, and 
 ended the career of a fierce and war loving people. The 
 Eries were swept out of existence by the powerful "Five 
 Nations," forming the Iroquois, but they left their name 
 permanently established, the name that now designates 
 
n- 
 
 ry 
 in 
 al 
 
 er 
 
 lO 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTFNG. 
 
 A 
 
 
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 the waters of Erie, lake of the "Wild Cat." Uncertain 
 as are the records of this lost tribe, the antiquarian and 
 historian groping amid ruins of the past, finds, never- 
 theless, broken bits which fit into their iiistory. No- 
 table among these may be mentioned "Inscription Rock" 
 at Kelley's Island, said to be the most extensive and 
 interesting relic of its kind in America. 
 
 At the opening of the present century, the islands 
 were overrun by nomadic tribes which have been 
 designated as "sojourners" rather than dwellers, rep- 
 resenting the Senecas, Miamis, Ottawas, Shawnees, 
 Potowotamies, and Wyandots; the latter bein^r the 
 most numerous. Representatives of other tribes, 
 among which was that of the Mohawk, sometimes 
 visited the archipelago. Though supposed to have 
 been a favorite locality, the islands wore not so mucii 
 the territory of any one tribe as a common stamping 
 ground for all. They came and went in a manner 
 similar to that of the modern summer excursionists; the 
 attractions of Put-in-Bay and her neighboring isles, as 
 a summer resort having been known and appreciated, 
 evidently, many thousand moons before the pale face 
 came to know them. When the waters were fettered 
 by ice, and withering blasts swept the island shores, 
 the Indians are supposed to have retired into the thick, 
 deep wilderness of the mainland; returning however 
 with spring flowers and sunshine to their island 
 haunts. 
 
 The romantic element — so instinctive to these 
 children of nature — must have run rampant amid sur- 
 roundings so calculated to inspire sentiment. The 
 dim forests, the darkling waters; the shifting clouds 
 
10 
 
 A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 and night shadows; the gathering storm, the play of 
 lightning, and roll of thunder; the war of winds, and 
 rush of waves all these things were invested b}^ the 
 savage with a wierd mysticism, L^nd looking upon 
 Nature and listening to her myriad voices, wild fantasies 
 and strange beliefs took shape wilhin h's brain. 
 
 His imagination 
 peopled with super- 
 natural beings the 
 caverned rocks, and 
 witchery dwelt in the 
 falling of a leaf, or 
 the flash of a sea- 
 gull's wing. 
 
 In feudal days such 
 as existed in the ar- 
 chipelago where 
 paths of wandering 
 tribes so frequently 
 crossed, occasions 
 were many which 
 gave rise to tales of 
 love and jealousy, of 
 conquest and adven- 
 ture. Thus touched by the subtle hue of poetry, and 
 lomance as charming and as real as that which has 
 come down to us from the feudal days of "mediaeval" 
 Europe, was the life of the untamed island dweller. 
 
 Antedating the period of Indian supremacy , lived 
 and flourished in the archipelago, a people concerning 
 whom no scrap of history remains; yet in the earth, — 
 
 A ROCK-BOUND SHORE. 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 11 
 
 
 of 
 
 las 
 til" 
 
 defying still the wear and corr osion of time — evidences 
 of former occupancy by the "Mound Builders" are 
 found. Mingling heterogenously in the same earthy 
 treasure vault, these remains are often confounded with 
 those of the Indian; the practiced antiquarian alone 
 being able to assign each relic a place in the catalogue 
 of antiquity. 
 
 Relics both of Indians and "Mound Builders" are 
 numerous at Put-in-Bay. Stone implements used by 
 the latter are frequently turned up by plow and spade. 
 Of these the stone ax is common. It is ground to a 
 sharp even edge. Axes have been found of a size so 
 small as to suggest their design as children's toys, or 
 fo. purposes of ornament rather than for use. Stone 
 pestles supposed to have been used for the pounding of 
 grain are abundant, and arrow heads of white and blue 
 flint are everywhere found. 
 
 A rude mausoleum of stone slabs, black in color, 
 and of a formation unknown on the islands, was dis- 
 covered some years ago directly beneath the roots of a 
 stump, four feet in diameter. Within the mound thus 
 enclosed, were eight human skeletons, one of which 
 measured over seven feet in height. Evidently "there 
 were giants those days." Mow long these relics of 
 mortality had reposed in their sepulchre of stone before 
 the tree became rooted upon it, is a matter of conject- 
 ure. Other mounds of a similar character have been 
 
 unearthed. 
 
 . ' . -' - ' 
 In the c?iv€rns of tiie island, hi- man. ^'cmains have 
 
 been found, hi one instance r» skeleton was 'lisco-vered 
 j\ '. • • . « ' « 
 
 in a position indicating that tne luckless individual rep- 
 
12 
 
 A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 11' 
 
 resented had become wedded between the rocks, and 
 had thus succumbed to death by inches. 
 
 On the southern shore of the ishind, near the gov- 
 ernment hght-house station, is a fissure in the limestone 
 extending to a considerable depth below the earths' 
 surface in which was discovered a large quantity of 
 human bones. 
 
 Stumbling thus among the sepulchres of van- 
 ished races, we are led to conclude that though com- 
 paratively new to the modern investigator, the isles 
 of Erie are as ancient in buried history, perhaps, as 
 Egypt itself. 
 
 Though ranging as third in size, Put-in-Bay has 
 from early daysranked first in importance among her 
 sister islands, and is eminently deserving of the term — 
 "Gem of Lake Erie." 
 
 In consideration of its position as the most southerly 
 island of the Bass group, geographers hnve in a gen- 
 eral way marked it on maps as South Bass. It was 
 once known as "Ross Island." As to the origin of its 
 present name there is a division of opinion. It is stated 
 on the authority of a historian, that Put-in-Bay is a 
 corruption of "Pudding Bay," an appellation given it 
 by early navigators. A restoration of the old name 
 it has been suggested, might be advantageous to the 
 many summer hotels there locaied. Oihers assert that 
 the name originated from^the fact, that prior to the 
 battle of Lake Eru, the, ships of Lhe American squadron 
 piJ: into ti'e '.wide and ampje bay v hi';h indents the 
 shore, \vhere they lay fdi" several days'. ^ The latter 
 theory is the one generally accepted. 
 
 » f •. f f c » 
 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 18 
 
 VIEW ON THE BAY. 
 
 The bay from which the island derives its name is 
 a sheet of water enclosed by two projections, "East Point" 
 to the eastward, " Peach Point" to the westward. Its 
 shores are encircled by stretches of gravel beach, or 
 girt by rugged and picturesque rock; while its crystal 
 depths mirror the cloud lights and shadows which 
 play above them. Squaw harbor, forming a portion of 
 the inner bay, is a beautiful sheet of water. 
 
 In the early history of lake navigation, this bay was 
 known as a harbor of refuge; and while yet the savage 
 beached his canoe upon its sands, and muttered the 
 strange gutteral of his tribe before the camp fire red- 
 deninij its shores, the white man's bark cut the still 
 waters and his anchor grappled the deeply hidden 
 rocks. 
 
 The first vessel that ever spread canvas on Lake 
 Erie, we are told, was built at Fort Frontiac over 200 
 years ago by Robert De La Salle, a Frenchman, as 
 the name indicates. She sailed from Green Bay in 
 
14 
 
 A GEM OF mSTOn/C SETTING. 
 
 I 'I 
 
 Mi. 
 
 iii: 
 
 
 September, 1679, having on board a band ot mission- 
 aries, among whom was Father I^ewis Hennisin. This 
 vessel — tradition informs us — cast anchor off the islands, 
 and inspired by its beautiful scenery, the missionaries 
 landed upon one of them, and within its green arched 
 temple, conducted devotional exercises. These men, 
 it is said, were the first of the white race to set foot 
 upon the archipelago. 
 
 In 1766, four trading vessels which plied the lakes 
 frequently cast anchor by its shores. 
 
 Concerning the early settlement of f^at-in-Bay, his- 
 torians are divided. Some obscurity evidently exists, 
 but the facts, as far as obtainable, date back to a period 
 shortly before the war of 1812. At that date, Put-in- 
 Bay together with North and Middle Bass islands 
 became the property of Judge Ogden Edwards, for- 
 merly of Connecticut ; these islands being included in the 
 Western Reserve grants to people of that state. 
 
 About the year 1810 two French ."squatters took 
 possession of the island. These adventurers engaged 
 mainly in hunting, trapping and fishing. Their tran- 
 quility, like that of the solitary exile of Juan Fernan- 
 dez, was frequently disturbed by the discovery of 
 "footprints on the sand," there indented by the moc- 
 casined feet of hostile red men. It is a natural pre- 
 sumption that these men felt relieved therefore when 
 they were reinforced by several families of French 
 Canadians. An individual, Seth Done, agent for the 
 Edwards property, also located on this island with a 
 view to clearing and improving it. Done employed a 
 number of laborers, and the little colony thus formed 
 turned attention to civilized pursuits. About 100 acres 
 
 J 
 ■> 
 
 m 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 16 
 
 were cleared and sown to wheat, the soil proving un- 
 usually fertile, and the first wheat crop grown was 
 harvested in 1812. The grain had all been stacked, 
 and the colonists were engaged in threshing it, when 
 thev were surprised by British troops. The crop was 
 de^^troyed, and the colony driv^en from the island. In 
 view of the troublous times, 2,000 bushels of wheat 
 had been boated across to the peninsula only two or 
 three days previous to the visitation above narrated 
 and st red for safe keeping in a commodious log pen. 
 This pen and its contents were likewise destroyed by 
 British and Indians. Thus disastrously ended the first 
 settlement of Putin-Bay. 
 
 After the war intervened a period in which the 
 Bass islands almost relapsed into their former prim- 
 itive state. Save the occasional appearance of ad- 
 venturers fiom the mainland, or of sailors from vessels 
 anchored in the bay, they were left to solitude. Two 
 individuals are recorvled as having, in the course of 
 time, made brief sojourns there — "Shell" Johnson and 
 one Captain Mill. Little thought of making the place 
 an abode of civilization seemed to suggest itself, how- 
 ever, up to the year 1822. About that time A. P. 
 Edwards, brother of Judge Edwards — then deceased — 
 came to look after the property, to the control or own- 
 ership of which he had succeeded. 
 
 Landing at Put-in-Bay, Mr. Edwards found there 
 a single squatter, one Ben Napier, a French Canadian, 
 living in a little cabin constructed of red cedar logs 
 near where the steamer wharves are now located. Ben 
 had taken full possession of the island, and evidently 
 considered himself "monarch of all he surveyed." He 
 
16 
 
 A Gf£Af OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 
 vigorously disputed Edward's right, and the latter 
 was forced to visit Norwalk for the purpose of pro- 
 curing papers wherewith to estabHsh his claim, the 
 islands being under the control of that judicial center. 
 Ben was Tmally ousted, and retired in disgust to look 
 for another "squatter's" claim. 
 
 The work of opening up and improving the island 
 now bej^nn. A numerous band of laborers were trans- 
 ported thither, and the first movement was the erec- 
 tion of a building to serve as shop and warehouse; to- 
 gether with a commodious frame structure intended 
 both as a residence for the agent appointed to super- 
 intend operations and as a boarding place for the labor- 
 ers. These buildings were erected in 1823 upon the 
 site known in after years as the Put-in- Bay House. 
 This dwelling formed for many years the center of at- 
 traction and crowning glory of the island. Its grounds 
 v^'ere pleasantly laid out, and basking under a virgin 
 coat of white-wash, it came to be known as the 
 "White House." It was successively occupied by 
 agents representing the Ef'-wards estate, chief among 
 whom were Pierpont, McGibbons, Scott and Van 
 Rassaler. McGibb^Jns finally rented the island, pay- 
 ing $500 in cash. Cord wood and limestone were 
 thence shipped to Cleveland and Erie. No direct line 
 of vessels connected with the islands, but by special 
 agreement with the captains of schooners bound up 
 and down the lake they were signalled in by shots 
 fired from a cannon planted on shore when shipments 
 awaited transportation. These vessels also brought 
 supplies to the little maritime populace. 
 
 The only facilities afforded for reaching the main- 
 
 \ 
 
 i «, 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTIXG. 
 
 17 
 
 land at that period consistt'd of a small sloop — the A. 
 P. Edwards— and a lar^e boat called a "Zig," rowed 
 by ten men, five on a side, something after the fasliion 
 of an ancient galley. J^iit the island pioneers grew 
 amphibious in their habits, and their exploits on ice 
 and water were marvelous; the details of which would 
 supply material for a whole series of "yellow backs." 
 
 Wjt-c««g 
 
 A PKiZE WINNER. 
 
 Wishing to dispose of his island possessions as a 
 whole, Edwards declined selling a foot of land by par- 
 cel, refusing even a location for a government light- 
 house on Put-in-Bay, which in consequence was erected 
 on Green Island. As a result of Edward's policy, 
 the islands developed slowly, and at the end of two de- 
 cades were still comparatively wild and unsettled. 
 
18 
 
 A GE.n OF IfiSTOK/C S. 
 
 SETr//VG. 
 
 "ES.O.NCE Of THE O.0EST «„,,„,„ 
 
 . '" l«43 Pl.illip Vrom.n, the oldest ' ■ ■ 
 «i«nt of the phu-e at the n,- «"rv,v,n,u res. 
 
 above described and 1 ,f ', ^'"^ "^^''i"-' House" 
 
 '''- 'he on,, hahu':l;,^;^^-V n^ ^■^""•"'^ »-- 
 Bass contained eueh a sin, I " '"'^ ""^' ^"^««h 
 
 Ja-^e waters swaged .ifr'a ^' "'^" "•'- "- 
 J-': fox- and raccoon, wa ;„„J;:r"Tf' "^ "■"^■'■ 
 '".h,s natural state, |,owever "^ ■'^"'■'•'■'-■' 
 
 •^-•-t on the Bass islands, and L T ""'"' '"°"'" '" 
 
 excepting occasional herds utr "'"' "^"" ■*^" 
 
 I^-'-i.sland and the m ," ' r^'''" ''''^ '^■'^ f-'" 
 
 P'-o'iric crop, and,.a ve h r • ''""'•'■"'^'^^■■^ --« a 
 The woods because „ftd'^:J'p''^ --«•' -"oyance. 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETI/A'G. 
 
 19 
 
 subsistence these brutes depended upon tlieir own 
 ^rubbin^. They were savage creatures and llic isl- 
 anders were some times treed by them. VVh.'n fresh 
 meat was required a scpiad of mounted men, with do<^s 
 and ^uns, set out for llic purpose of hunting tliem 
 down, and the sport is said to liave been very excitinj^. 
 
 BLACK BASS SHOALS. 
 
 In spring and early summer the islands formed — 
 as thev still do — a veritable Edtn of bloom, wild 
 flowers of endless variety appearing in overwhelming 
 abundance and intermingled with native shrubbery, vines 
 and mosses belting and overhanging, in a manner most 
 picturesque and charming, the broken shore rocks. This 
 prodigality of nature ma}' be more fully understood 
 when it is known that the island region forms the meet- 
 ing place — according to Prof, G. Frederick Wright — 
 of several botanical provinces, so that Canadian, 
 
» 
 
 A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 \ 
 
 Southern, Atlantic and Rocky mountain species are 
 found together as nowhere else on the continent. 
 
 The island forests were literally alive with wild 
 songsters, and the eagle found here a congenial re- 
 treat, making the tall tree tops his home. 
 
 In 1S45 Gibr.iltar Island was occupied as the camp- 
 ing ground of a large party of surveyors and engin- 
 eers, employed by the government in making charts 
 and maps of the lake. In order to secure an unob- 
 structed sight, a strip forty feet in wicMi, running the 
 whole lenfTth of the island, was cut throutrh the heavy 
 timber of Put-in-Hay. This strip afterwards became 
 the main island thoroughfare, and is slill known as the 
 "Sight road." Platforms sevent3'-five feet high were 
 also erected at various points on the shore from which 
 observations of the lake were taken. 
 
 Long before she had made her debut as a sum r.er 
 resort, Put-in-Bay had won many ardent admirers; 
 and in 1852 a Fourth of July celebration formed an event 
 such as the island had never before witnessed. The 
 anniversary coming on Sunday, the principal doings 
 were deferred until the following day, but a national 
 religious service was held Sunday afternoon at which 
 the first sermon ever preached on Put-in-Bay was de- 
 livered by Rev. Jewett of the M . E. church, San- 
 dusky. Monday came with a memorable blow-out. 
 The boom of cannon awoke the echoes. The burial 
 mound where rest the slain of Perry's victory was 
 decorated with the national colors. Military companies 
 from various points throughout the state participated, 
 and crowds from the lake towns and cities arrived by 
 special steamers. Sandusky grocers had erected lunch 
 
 
A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 21 
 
 stands and stocked them with bountiful supplies, by 
 means of which the hungry multitudes were fed. In- 
 spiriting music and eloquent oratory awoke an entliu- 
 siasm which reached white heat. 
 
 In 1854 ^^^ islands, comprising the Edwards prop- 
 erly, were sold entire to Riveri.i De San Jargo, a Span- 
 ish merchant of wealth and distinction then residing in 
 New York City. Up to this time, but a single frame 
 house had been erected on Put-in-Bay, but with a 
 change of proprietors, its prospects brightened. Con- 
 tracts fur buildings were issued by Riveria, and Miil- 
 (lie Bass was disposed of to three purchasers — VVm. 
 Rchberg, a German count, Andrew Wehrle, and a 
 tjentleman of fortune named Caldwell. 
 
 A steamer, the "Islander", began making trips from 
 Sandu ky to Put-in-Bay. Improvements went rapidly 
 forward, and the islands as a body enjoyed that which 
 in modern limes would be called a "boom." Many 
 visitors now began crowding toward Put-in-Bay, 
 drawn thither by the natural and historical attractions 
 of the place. Among the number was J. W. Gray, 
 then editor of the Cleveland Plain Dealer. Realizing 
 llie need of suitable hotel accommodations, Gray pur- 
 chased the 'White House." Changes and additions 
 were made, and ere long a comfortable hotel opened 
 its doors. The island was now becoming famous as a 
 summer resort, and to meet the ever increasing de- 
 mand for accommodation, a grand summer hotel was 
 projected, built and christened — "The Put-in-Bay 
 House." The structure was 450 feet long. Its veran- 
 dahs extended the whole length of the building and 
 commanded a magnificent view of the bay near 
 
It 
 
 ! ] 
 ) 5 
 
 22 
 
 A GEM OF HISTORIC SETTING. 
 
 M 
 
 
 OLD PUT-IN-BAY HOUSE, 
 
 which the hotel was located. The Beebe house, 
 a commodious structure, was erected on the site of an 
 old building known as the "Perry House." The Beebe 
 house was owned and is still operated by Henry 
 Beebe, the oldest hotel man in the state. Other hotels 
 rapidl}' sprung up, and owners of real estate in sizable 
 tracts suddenly found themselves wealthy. Not only 
 had the place become an attraction to tourists and 
 visitors in general, but the peculiar adaptability of the 
 soil rendered grape culture a prolific source of gain; 
 and Put-in-Bay and adjacent isles were soon covered 
 with thrifty vineyards. 
 
 The Put-in-Bay house was subsequently destroyed 
 by fire, but was afierwards rebuilt on a smaller scale 
 by Valentine Doller. 
 
 In size and magnili :ence, however, the old Put-in- 
 Bay house was linally eclipsed by the erection on Vic- 
 tory Bay of Hotel Victory, which enjoys the distinc- 
 tion of being the largest and most luxuriously appointed 
 summer hotel in the United States. 
 
 Such in brief is the history of a summer resort. 
 
PERRY'S VICTORY 
 
 In the Light of Local Reminiscence. 
 
 "As bears the noble consort slo'vly down, 
 Portentous now her teemin>5 cannon frown; 
 List to tlie volleys that incessant break 
 The ancient silence of this border hike." 
 
 "While Erie's currents Lave her winding shore, 
 Or down the crags her rushing torrents pour, 
 While rioats Columbia's standard to the breeze, 
 No blight shall wither hiurels such as these." 
 
 — Uakpkks Magazine 
 
 "Tlie chief products of Put-in" 
 ^ Uay are Tisli, flirtatious, limestone 
 md i^erry's victory." 
 
 Thus facetiouslv comments an 
 observer after duly sizing U[) the isl- 
 Oiiver Hazard Perry, aiid iu qufstioH. The hitter com- 
 modity is especially abundant as may be divined from 
 the fact that it forms the primary consideration of al- 
 most every visitor of intelliirtirice who for the tiist 
 time sets foot upon this histoiic bit of terra tirma. 
 Among the crowds which annually visit the resort are 
 tourists from New England, from the land of the 
 orange and palmetto, from the isles of Britain and from 
 Continental Europe. As a rule, the farther traveled, 
 the deeper the interest exhibited by travelers in a con- 
 templation of the scene where occurred the great naval 
 contest which swept from American waters the Cross 
 
II 
 
 I 
 
 ft^i-l! ' 
 
 
 hi: 
 
 i 
 
 'i 
 
 24 
 
 PERRY'S VICTORY. 
 
 of St. George, and demonstrated the invalidity of Eng- 
 land's pretentions to being "mistress of the seas" — a 
 supremacy long the boast of this most invincible of 
 old world powers. 
 
 On almost any favorable day during the "guest 
 season" many loiterers may be observed near the 
 "lone willow" — beneath which lie the slain of Perry's 
 victory — leaning over the post and chain fence that 
 encircles it, or resting on the lawn adj.icent, evi- 
 dently lost in retrospective cogitations. They have 
 many questions to ask of the islanders whom they 
 meet concerning points of history —local and general — 
 bearing upon events associated with the spot, and are 
 sometimes as easily gulled by the romaucist as are 
 travelers in the holy land by the relic vender. The 
 burial mound, which thus forms a point of general in- 
 terest, is located on a level sweep of greensward, a 
 few rods from the bay shore, midway between the two 
 wharves at which incoming steamers land their pas- 
 sengers. This spot was denuded of timber before the 
 war of i8[2, and save the old willow contains only a 
 few second growth trees. 
 
 In consideration of its isolated position, it became 
 known as the "lone willow" — an appellation given it 
 by early settlers, and which it still retains. Its 
 story as told by these pioneer dwellers runs as follows: 
 
 A few days succeeding the surrender of Barkley's 
 fleet, a vessel hailing from the settlement now marked 
 by the town of Vermillion, arrived laden with supplies 
 for the x\merican squadron. While anchored offshore, 
 the master of this vessel visited the island, where were 
 interred the slain officers of both fleets. In his hand 
 
y of Eng- 
 seas" — a 
 ncible of 
 
 ^ "guest 
 ear the 
 
 Perry's 
 ice that 
 It, evi- 
 *y have 
 n they 
 neral — 
 and are 
 
 as are 
 The 
 sral in- 
 vard, a 
 he two 
 ir pas- 
 »re the 
 only a 
 
 ecame 
 
 ven it 
 
 i. Its 
 
 Hows: 
 
 k ley's 
 
 irked 
 
 oplies 
 
 hore, 
 
 were 
 
 hand 
 
I .' 
 
 ) \ 
 
 I i 
 
 Q 
 <: 
 
 Llj 
 
 Q 
 
 > 
 DC 
 
 I— 
 U 
 
 > 
 
 cr. 
 
 (X 
 
 
 O 
 
 cr. 
 
 m 
 
 ! t , 
 

 
 Q 
 
 <: 
 
 p 
 
 r- 
 U 
 
 a: 
 cc 
 
 LU 
 
 I 
 h- 
 
 o 
 
 en 
 
 ri ■ t-s 
 
 lie carried a walkin^^ slick cut from a green willow. 
 The earth which rounded the lonely graves was still 
 fresh, and into the yielding surface he imbedded the 
 shoot. It became rooted and grew into the goodly 
 tree which now marks the place. 
 
 This story is well authenticated, many of the old 
 residents having seen and conversed with the man who 
 planted the willow shoot, and who in subsequent years 
 visited the island. Within a comparatively recent 
 period the tree was encircled by the above mentioned 
 post and chain fence which encloses and renders con- 
 spicuous the otherwise neglected spot. The tree has 
 grown to stately proportions, but its trunk is becom- 
 ing gnarled, and its yellow twigs and clustering leaves 
 are oftimes broken bv the hands of str miners and 
 carried away as mementoes. Two or three round, 
 white boulders lie partially imbedded in the sod at its 
 roots — the only monumental stones the enclosure con- 
 tains; whether originally placed there by Perry and 
 his men, is a matter concerning which the present in- 
 habitants seem devoid of knowled^re. 
 
 There are persons still living on Put-in-Iiay who 
 remember seeing the remains of an old scaffold cap- 
 ping a wall of rugged and precipitous rock near the 
 "Needle's Eye,'' Gibraltar Island. From this com- 
 manding station Commodore Perry and his officers 
 daily and hourly reconnoitered the lake, sweeping with 
 their marine glasses the horizon to west and north- 
 west for the first topsail of the British squadron, the 
 appearance of which was to be the signal for action. 
 A grass-grown path leading to this point of rocks 
 from the opposite side of the island off which lay at 
 
i i 
 
 l\ - .' 
 
 'I 
 
 
 ) 
 
 I 
 
 26 
 
 PERRY'S VICTORY. 
 
 anchor the American fleet, is also remembered by 
 early pioneers. The scaffold long since disappeared, 
 but the spot upon which it stood is now commonly 
 known as "Perry's lookout." It is marked by a flag- 
 staff, and the neighboring scenery, as viewed from this 
 eminence, is the most rugged, picturesque and ro- 
 mantic known in the archipelago. 
 
 Near "Perry's Lookout," on Gibraltar, is placed a 
 monument intended to commemorate the battle of 
 Lake Erie. It was dei^igned and erected by Jay 
 Cooke, the well known Philadelphia financier and 
 present owner of the island. 
 
 Within the entrance hall of Mr. Cooke's stately 
 summer villa — which occupies a central location on 
 Gibraltar — hangs an old painting representing the 
 scene of this famous engagement. 
 
 Several years ago a transportation vessel lost her 
 anchor, and while grappling for it, her crew hauled up, 
 not that for which they were looking, but an old 
 wooden stock anchor, such as were used by navigators 
 in early days. The wood had rotted away, and the 
 iron was deeply corroded with rust. This anchor is 
 said to have been lost from one of the ships of Perry's 
 squadron. Other interesting relics of the troublous 
 times of i8 12-13, and of Perry's visit to Put in-Bay, 
 have been found at various times and in divers places. 
 Arms and military accoutrements bearing the United 
 States brand have been picked up, of which the wood 
 portions were rotted away and the iron deeply rust- 
 eaten. 
 
 On Peach Point, which overlooks the battle scene, 
 was found a cannon ball imbedded in a mass of rock 
 
 |i 1 * » 
 
PERRY'S VICTORY. 
 
 27 
 
 Dered by 
 ippeared, 
 Dmmonly 
 >y a fla^- 
 from this 
 and re- 
 placed a 
 Dattle of 
 
 by Jay 
 cier and 
 
 s stately 
 ation on 
 iting the 
 
 lost her 
 uled up, 
 an old 
 igators 
 and the 
 chor is 
 Perry's 
 •ublous 
 n-Bay, 
 places, 
 nited 
 wood 
 rust- 
 
 I scene, 
 If rock 
 
 and debris. The ball corresponded in size and weight 
 with those used for the naval cannon of early days. 
 This relic came ultimately into the possession of Jay 
 Cooke, by whom it is highly prized. 
 
 For an indefinite period of years an old dismounted 
 cannon figured conspicuously in the history of Put-in- 
 Bay. This piece of ordnance — it is asserted — belonged 
 to one of Perry's ships, and was left on the island after 
 the fight in a disabled condition. The piece was re- 
 cently sold to the town of Port Clinton. The citizens 
 of that borough feel proud of their acquisition, fondly 
 cherishing the relic and bringing it forth with great 
 eclat and profuse decorations whenever a street pa- 
 rade or public jollification is given. 
 
 The anniversary of the BaUle of Lake Erie, Sep- 
 tember loth, is recognized at Put-in -Bay as a holiday 
 of an importance as great as that which attaches lo 
 the Fourth of July in other portions of the country- 
 Whether any public celebration is or is not held on the 
 island, the average islander suspends his daily occupa- 
 tions with the advent of the "tenth," and donning his 
 best, repairs to the "Bay," where he aims to get out 
 of the occasion all the glory there is in it. The res- 
 idents of adjacent islands are accustomed also to gather 
 at this common center, crossing in skiffs, yachts and 
 sail boats. 
 
 If no special features of interest are afforded, a 
 meeting with neighbors and friends in the Bay park, a 
 dish of ice cream at the restaurant, a glass of lager or 
 perchance of something stronger serves to round out 
 the day, and in the evening the islander goes home 
 with a serene sense of duty done. 
 
:>8 
 
 PERR Y'S I ICTOR Y. 
 
 
 ll 
 
 ! 
 \ V 
 
 1 il 
 
 '■ i 
 * il 
 
 However, inc advent of this anniversary rarely 
 fails to bring crowds by every steamer from lakeport 
 towns and cities, and often from points far inland. So- 
 cieties civic and military frequently parade the thor- 
 oughfares, bands discourse martial music, yards of 
 bunting stream from public buildings; and inspired by 
 the occasion, speeches full of fire and frenzy are pro- 
 jected by orators of every degree. Then, too, the 
 "lone willow" is wreathed, ribboned, flagged and 
 flowered in the most approved manner. On one of 
 these occasions a large and handsome portrait of Perry 
 garlanded with exquisite floral decorations, and 
 knots of red, white and blue ribbon, was suspended 
 against the tree. Directly beneath lettered in black on 
 a white ground appeared the words of thit brief but 
 significent dispatch, penned by the hero to Gen. Har- 
 rison — "We have met the enemy and they are ours " 
 At the tree roots lay the rusty anchor — that had been 
 fished from the bay — twined with evergreen, and its 
 chain clasped about the trunk. Upon each post hung 
 an evergreen wreath and fluttered a flag, forming 
 about the mound a blight circle of color. 
 
 One of the most notable anniversaries of the battle 
 ever held at Put-in-Bay, occurred somewhere back in 
 the "fifties." On this occasion, over 15,000 people were 
 in attendance, and so many steamers arrived that 
 scarcely room enough was afforded at the wharves to 
 land their passengers. In anticipation of the crowd, 
 bakers and restaurant keepers from adjacent mainland 
 towns had put up temporary lunch counters and eating 
 stands, and did a rushing business. 
 
 There were present at this anniversary nearly 
 
PERRY'S VICTORY. 
 
 20 
 
 ry rarely 
 lakeport 
 ind. So- 
 the thor- 
 yards of 
 pired by 
 are pro- 
 too, the 
 ^ed and 
 
 one of 
 of Perry 
 )ns, and 
 spended 
 black on 
 jrief but 
 in. Har- 
 e ours " 
 ad been 
 
 and its 
 St hung 
 forming 
 
 e battle 
 jack in 
 e were 
 d that 
 rves to 
 crowd, 
 ainland 
 eating 
 
 nearly 
 
 sixty survivors of the battle, amon;; whom was Ciipt. 
 Elliott, who commanded the ship Niagara, which after 
 the Lawrence became disabled, was boarded by Perry 
 and made flagship of the squadron. 
 
 A thrilling address was dehvercd by Capt. Elhott 
 in the grounds of the "While 1 louse." An old resident 
 of the island, Phillip Vroman, who was present, des- 
 cribes the speaker, as he then appeared, as a grey 
 bearded, but well preserved man of medium height, 
 slender build, and intelligent countenance. 
 
 Gen. Harrison who figures prominently in history, 
 both civic and military, was among the speakers; also 
 Gov. Cass of Michigan, together with many other 
 noted scholars and statesmen. 
 
 An incident which occurred in connection with this 
 particular celebration is related by Mr, Vroman. He 
 was standing near the old burial mound when he ob- 
 served in the crowd about him a man of worn and 
 grizzled appearance, with head inclined, and the tears 
 coursing slowly down his cheeks. Mr. Vroman kind- 
 ly inquired as to the cause of his grief. The man 
 lifted his head and, pointing to the mound, said: 
 
 "Here lie my comrades. Forty five years ago to- 
 day we gathered at this spot to perform for them our 
 last services. Since then I have not seen the place 
 until now. Gazing once more upon it under circum- 
 stances so solemn and impressive brings back upon 
 me an overpowering flood of recollections." 
 
 In repty to inquiries, the old man gave some per- 
 sonal experiences of the battle, as follows : 
 
 "I was with a large detachment of our men on the 
 little rock island k^ own as Gibraltar, when Barkley's 
 
< 
 
 1 
 
 I , 
 
 w 
 
 :i 
 
 30 
 
 PERRY'S VICTORY. 
 
 fleet w«is sighted approaching from the northwest. 
 We lost no time in getting back to our vessels which 
 were idly swinging at anchor. Orders from command- 
 ing ofllcers were given, quick and sharp. There was 
 a bustle of hasty preparation heard, a great straining 
 of blocks and cordage, and a flap of canvas as the sails 
 were unfurled. Our fleet passed out of the bay be- 
 tween Peach Point and Middle I^ass Island. The 
 moining was as beautiful as any that I have ever seen. 
 When about five miles north of Put-in-Bay, we en- 
 countered the British squadron." 
 
 After giving a description of the light, the narrator 
 closed with an account of the burial of the dead at 
 Put-in-Bay. According to his statement, six officers — 
 three Americans and three British, were buried on the 
 site marked by the willow; the sailors and marines, on 
 a beautiful treeless knoll near "Squaw' Harbor." 
 
 Some historians tell us that the latter were sunk in 
 the lake by means of a cannon ball attached to the feet 
 of each. This, however, must be erroneous, as other 
 testimony to the effect that they were buried on the 
 island exists besides that of the old marine above 
 mentioned. 
 
 Had the fleet been sailing the high seas instead of 
 lying in a quiet harbor, a disposition of the dead by 
 committal to th«^ waves might appear more reasonable. 
 The spot pointed out as the burial ground in question 
 was afterwards used by the early settlers as a place 
 of interment, and in excavating, human bones were 
 unearthed. Nearly all the remains of island settlers 
 were subsequently removed to the present island cem- 
 etery. Greensward and vineyard sweep cover the 
 
PERRY'S VICTORY 
 
 81 
 
 orthwest. 
 tls which 
 ommand- 
 'here was 
 straining 
 the sails 
 bay be- 
 \. The 
 ver seen. 
 , we en- 
 
 narrutor 
 dead at 
 officers — 
 d on the 
 fines, on 
 
 sunk in 
 the feet 
 as other 
 on the 
 above 
 
 tead of 
 ead by 
 onable. 
 uestion 
 place 
 were 
 ettlers 
 i cem- 
 r the 
 
 site of the old burial ground at the present day, and 
 nothing is now left upon its surface to suggest that it 
 was ever used as such. 
 
 Another point upon which historians differ is in 
 reference to the exact location of the battle, its distance 
 from Put-in- iJay ranging, according to several accounts, 
 all the way from two to ten miles. Since, however, no 
 measurements were ever taken by the participants, the 
 exact distance in linear miles will probably never be 
 known. 
 
 There are aged persons still living who remember 
 havintr heard the cannon at the Battle of Lake Erie. 
 E. W. Barnum of Cleveland, who attended a recent 
 loth of September celebration at Put-in-Bay, saw, 
 when a boy of twelve years, the British fleet, before its 
 engagement with Perry, lying at King's Quay, Ft. 
 Maiden. He was also on board the Queen Charlotte 
 before her capture, and saw the identical cannon which 
 has frowned for so many years upon passersby in 
 Monumental Park, Cleveland. 
 
 At various times for years past, efforts have been 
 made to secure the erection of an appropriate Monu- 
 ment at Put-in-Bay, intended both to commemorate 
 this great naval achievement, and also to mark the 
 burial place of the slain, but up to the present time all 
 enterprises in this direction have met with signal 
 failure. 
 
 Many years ago a fund for the erection of a monu- 
 ment to Oliver Hazard Perry was largely contributed 
 to by island residents with the understanding that it 
 was to be located at Put-in-Bay. Photographs of the 
 
32 
 
 /7:VvVv']".s r/r/ORv. 
 
 PERRY'S LONE WILLOW, 
 
 'iji 
 
 "Lone Willow" were eirculated and sold in lari^e 
 quantities, and the proceeds donated to this fund. In 
 due time the moniuncnt took shape, and' proved a suc- 
 cess, bein<jr an elaborately designed and exquisitely exe- 
 cuted piece of sculpture, surmounted by a life-like statue 
 of Commodore Perry. Instead of being erected at Put- 
 in-Bay, however, it was placed in Monumental Park? 
 
PERRV'S VICTORY. 
 
 88 
 
 d. In 
 a isuc- 
 y cw-e- 
 staiue 
 It Put- 
 Park, 
 
 •i 
 
 Clevc'larul, where beside the old British cannon men- 
 tioned in tills concction it formed for many years an 
 objtM of interest and admiration to the thousands who 
 dail thr()n;,a'd the paved thoroujijhfares near which it 
 stood. It was afterwards removed to Wade Park, 
 wliere it will no doubt remain till time shall crumble it. 
 
 MONUMENT COMMEMORATING THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE-GIBRALTAR. 
 
i 'I. 
 
 i|! 
 
 m 
 
 ''1! 
 
 il! 
 
 i'il 
 
 » 
 
 
 84 
 
 P£/!i: V 'S VICTORY, 
 
 On September loth, 1891, the Maumee Valley 
 Monumental Association, with President Rutherford 
 B. Hayes at its head, held a meeting at Put-in-Bay, 
 Cassius M. Clay, of Kentucky, and other men of promi- 
 nence being present. At this meeting the Perry monu- 
 ment question was again agitated. As a result of this, 
 and various other movements, a congressional appro- 
 priation was solicited; and ever since, the congressional 
 body have been considering the expediency of granting 
 the same. Meantimo, Rhode Island —Commodore 
 Perry's native state — has stepped to the front, and pro- 
 poses undertaking, on her own account, the building of 
 a monument at Put-in-Bay , and the islanders are pray- 
 ing that " Little Rhody's " good resolution may not 
 fail until her task is accomplished. 
 
 _A 
 
Valley 
 therford 
 -in-Bay, 
 f promi- 
 y monu- 
 t of this, 
 i appro- 
 essional 
 granting 
 imodore 
 md pro- 
 Iding of 
 •e pray- 
 may r?ot 
 
 PUT-IN-BAY IN SONG AND POETRY. 
 
 EVENING ON THE WATER. 
 
 "Did you ever behold a more lovely scene?" 
 
 "Never ! It is superlatively beautiful. It is 
 glorious !" 
 
 The subject of discussion was a brilliant sunset 
 viewed from a rocky projection. The interrogator an 
 enthusiast who had never travelled far; the individual 
 addressed, an enthusiast who had travelled extensively 
 and viewed scenes and objects of famed attraction, 
 but only to return to his own country, and there to dis- 
 cover among the isles of Lake Erie the acme of all 
 
1 1 
 
 I 
 
 'if 
 
 ' i I 
 
 11! 
 
 i;ti 
 
 86 
 
 PUT! NBA YIN SONG AND POETRY. 
 
 artistic inspiration and poetic sentiment shown up in 
 one jrrand masterpiece. In its contemplation he grew 
 ecstatic, and straightway exhausted the whole vocab- 
 ulary of adjectives and terms synonymous expressive 
 of higheit and mightiest appreciation; but nothing 
 could be too extravagant in the way of word garniture 
 for such a scene. The Master Painter seemed indeed 
 to have thrown into this stupendous effort the full 
 power of creative genius. Such delicate pencillings; 
 such exquisite shadings; such clearness of outline in 
 the foreground; such tilms of haze and flecks of cloud 
 in the (^stances; such combinations of color; such fan- 
 tastic play of lights on wave and sky; such a glorious 
 reincarnation of beauty as a whole. 
 
 A breeze with breath of balm, just rippling the 
 channel waters. A murmur, just audible, of wavelets 
 among caverned rocks. Ledges abrupt and crags 
 overhung by riot-running vegetation. Cedar clumps 
 abristle and maples thick leaved scumbletl with golden 
 bronze. To westward, the sun's divergent path; and 
 far and near winged sails c itching the crimson glow of 
 the dying day. Such in outline is the sketch of an 
 island sunset; and afloat upon a luminous sea of in- 
 spiration, poetic fancy awakens to "stir of waves and 
 dip of oars." 
 
 "O, boatman, row me gently, slow, 
 Into the golden sunset glow 
 That crowns the > ying day; 
 Out where the white cloud islands lie, 
 In the ciimson sea of the western sky, 
 Row me away, away." 
 
)wn up in 
 he j^rew 
 
 le vocab- 
 
 xpressive 
 nothing 
 
 garniture 
 
 ed indeed 
 the full 
 
 ncillings; 
 
 Dutline in 
 of cloud 
 
 5uch fan- 
 glorious 
 
 pling the 
 wavelets 
 id crags 
 
 clumps 
 1 golden 
 ath; and 
 
 glow of 
 ch of an 
 a of in- 
 ives and 
 
 P UTIN-BA V IN SONG A ND POE TK Y. 37 
 
 "Purple and carmine and amethyst, 
 Waves that touching the sky unkissed, 
 Leave aluminous trail; 
 Across it floating a graceful thing; 
 Is it a bird with a shining wing, 
 Or a tiny glistening sail?" 
 
 However, not alone in sunset glories revels the 
 poet, the artist and the creator of symphonious meas- 
 ures, since throughout the whole panoramic progress 
 of the seasons, the sliifting views on lake and land, and 
 
 A S'JMMLR SHORE. 
 
 Geo, Kerry^ Pitt'in-Bay. 
 
 the harmonious blendings of life and color contribute 
 to kindle and keep aflame the aesthetic fires. With the 
 "month of roses" is attained the climax of inspirational 
 fervor; when skies are bluest and nature at her best; 
 when dreamer and castle builder are busiest weaving 
 garlands of fancy and rearing architectural marvels, 
 towered and turretted and aglow with "a light that 
 never was on land or sea." 
 
¥M 
 
 sd 
 
 PUT-IN-BA V m SONG AND POE TR K 
 
 I.H 
 
 Had our widely renowned American poets — Long- 
 fellow and Whittier — spent as large a share of their 
 natural lives at Put-in-Bay as along the New England 
 coast , every crook of the island shores , every wave- 
 worn rock and mirrored crag that girds them , every 
 quiet cove and dimpling bay which indents them 
 would have been invested with the charm of romance, 
 subtle and irresistable; for the natural beauty and his- 
 toric interest attaching thereto would have called 
 forth the noblest efforts of those gifted writers. 
 
 Howbeit, the island and its attractions, natural 
 and historical, have not been overlooked; since im- 
 mediately following the battle of Lake Erie in 1813, 
 poets of every degree, from fledgling versifiers to 
 hoary-headed bards all over the country, turned their 
 attention towards it, eager to immortalize in verse the 
 gallantry of Oliver Hazard Peiry and the scene that 
 witnessed his brilliant achievements. Books published 
 shortly after the period above mentioned, containing 
 poems describing the event, are still found in old 
 collections. 
 
 Ablaze with fiery patriotism are these quaint ef- 
 fusions, though not always true to topographical detail 
 — a matter which excites no surprise when it is con- 
 sidered that most of them were written at long range, 
 imagination supplying material where facts were 
 wanting. 
 
 A song, said to have been widely popular eighty 
 years ago, is still known and sung by elderly people. 
 Though not an example of perfect metrical composi- 
 tion, its long survival entitles it to notice in this con- 
 nection. The words are as follows: 
 
 i m 
 
P UT-iN-BA Y IN SONG AND POE TR Y. 
 
 80 
 
 — Long- 
 of their 
 England 
 y "w ave- 
 rt , every 
 ts them 
 omance, 
 and his- 
 e called 
 
 natural 
 ince im- 
 in 1813, 
 ifiers to 
 led their 
 erse the 
 ene that 
 jlished 
 aining 
 in old 
 
 aint ef- 
 detail 
 IS con- 
 range, 
 were 
 
 eighty 
 Deople. 
 mposi- 
 s con- 
 
 "Ye tars of Columbia, give ear to my story, 
 
 Who fought with brave Perry where cannon did roar; 
 Your valor has won you an immortal glory, 
 A fame that shall last until time is no more. 
 
 "Columbian tars are the true sons of Mars, 
 
 1 hey rake fore and aft when they fight on the deep; 
 On the bed of Lake Erie, commanded by Perry, 
 They caused many a Briton to take his last sleep. 
 
 "On the tenth of September, let all well remember, 
 
 As long as the world on its axis roils round, 
 Our tars and marines on Lake Erie were seen. 
 To make the red flag of proud Britain haul down. 
 
 •'The van of our fleet, the British to meet, 
 
 Commanded by Perry, the Lawrence bore down, 
 The guns they did roar with such terrible power, 
 The savages trembled at the horrible sound. 
 
 "The Lawrence was shattered, her rigging was tattered. 
 Her booms and her yards were all shot away; 
 And few men on deck, to manage the wreck, 
 Our hero on board, could no longer stay. 
 
 "In this situation, the pride of our nation, 
 
 Sure heaven had guarded unhurt all the while; 
 While many a hero maintaining his station, 
 Fell close by his side and was thrown on the pile. 
 
 "But mark ye and wonder, when the elements thunder, 
 And death and destruction are stalking around; 
 
 His flag he did carry, on board the Niagara, 
 Such valor on record was never yet found. 
 
 "There was one noble act of our gallant commander. 
 While writing my song, I must notice with pride; 
 When launched in a smack, which carried his standard, 
 A ball whistled through her, just at his side. 
 
 "Says Perry— 'Those villains intend for to drown us, 
 
 Push on my brave boys, you need never fear; ' 
 And then with his coat, he plugged up the boat, 
 And through sulphur and fire away L.* did steer. 
 
I ' ^ 
 
 ill? 
 
 ht\t 
 
 * i 
 
 i 
 
 
 1i 
 
 .i.; 
 
 I '111 
 
 
 
 40 PUT-IA-BA Y I^ ' SONG AND POE TR K 
 
 "The famous Niagara, now proud of her Perry, 
 Displayed all her colors in gallant array; 
 And twenty-five guns on her deck she did carry, 
 Which soon put an end to the bloody affray. 
 
 "The bold British lion now roared his last thunder, 
 While Perry attended him close in the rear; 
 Columbia's eagle soon made him crouch under, 
 And call out for quarter as you shall soon hear. 
 
 "Brave Elliott -whose valor must now be recorded, — 
 
 On board the Niagara had well played his part; 
 His gallant assistance to Perry afforded, 
 We place him the second on Lake Erie's chart. 
 
 "In the midst of the battle the guns they did rattle, 
 The L?,wrcnce a wreck, and the men mostly slain; 
 Away he did steer, and brought up the rear, 
 And by this manuever the victory gained. 
 
 "Says Perry — 'Brave Elliott now give me your hand. 
 This day you have gained an immortal renown; 
 So long as Columbians Lake Eiic com.uand, 
 
 Let the brave Captain Elliott with laurels be crowned. 
 
 "Great Britain may boast of her conquering heroes. 
 
 Her Rodneys and Nelsons, and all the whole crew; 
 And Ronne in her glory ne'er told such a story, 
 Nor boasted such feats as Columbians do. 
 
 "Columbians sing and make the woods ring, 
 
 And toast those brave spirits by sea and by land; 
 While Britains drink sherry, Columbians drink Perry, 
 And toast it about with full glasses in hand." 
 
 As "distance lends enchantment," so with passing 
 years looms the historical importance of "Perry's vic- 
 tory," and every scion of poesy who visits Put-in-Bay, 
 experiences — as did his predecessors — an irrepressible 
 desire to pour into rhyme the thoughts thereby awak- 
 ened. Thus graphically described is the fray by 
 Henry T, Tuckerman of Newport, R. I. : 
 
Ill 
 
 i-llil' 
 
 m. 
 
 v:i 
 
 
 '1.1 ii' 
 
 ' ) m . 
 
 Is 
 
 ■LION'S HEAD"-VICTORY PARK, 
 
PUT-IN BA y rX SOXG AND POE TR J '. 
 
 41 
 
 
 "^^^ 
 
 
 : 
 
 '•Why to one point turns every graceful prow? 
 W'liat scares the eagle from his lonely l)Ough? 
 A bugle iiOte far through the welkin rings, 
 From ship to ship its airy challenge Hings. 
 Then round each hull the murky war clouds loom, 
 Her lightnings glare, her sullen thu i lers boom; 
 Peal follows peal with each lurid Hash, 
 The tall masts shiver and the bulwarks crash. 
 The shrouds hang loose, the decks are wet with gore, 
 And dying shrieks resound along the shore; 
 As fall the bleeding victims one by one, 
 Their messmates rally to the smoking gun. 
 As the maimed forms are sadly borne away, 
 From the fierce carnage of that murderous fray, 
 A fitful joy lights up each drooping eye. 
 To see the starry banner floating high. 
 Or mark their unharmed leader's dauntless air. 
 His life enfolded in his loved one's prayer. (*) 
 Not o'er my head shall that bright Hag descend: 
 With brief monition from the hulk he springs, 
 To a fresh deck his rapid transit wings. 
 Back to the strife exultant shapes his way. 
 Again to test the fortunes of the day: 
 As I ears the noble consort slowly down. 
 Portentous now her teeming cannon frown; 
 List to the volleys that incessant break 
 The ancient silence of that border lake ! 
 As lifts the smoke, what tongue can fitly tell. 
 The transports which those manly bosoms swell. 
 When Britain's ensign, down the reeling mast, 
 Sinks to proclaim the desperate struggle past." 
 
 One of the most interestiii<r, yet saddest circum- 
 stances connected \v>th the Battle of Lake Erie, was 
 undoubtedly that recorded in the words of still another 
 old song that has come down to us, "James Bird." 
 To a lady resident of Sandusky is the writer indebted 
 
 " Note;— Perry said after his miraculous escape that h^ owed his life 
 to bis wife's prayers, 
 
 W^'\ 
 
|i '. ; 
 
 ill 
 
 mi 
 
 r' 
 
 
 '1 
 j( 
 
 
 
 
 1' 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 42 
 
 p(/t-/jV-ba y /jv soA'c; and poetry. 
 
 for dt'tails of incidents from which this son^ took its 
 origin, and which contribute to form an additional rem- 
 inisence resurrected from a buried past. The story 
 which may serv»e as a prelude to the song, runs thus: 
 After the Battle of Lake Erie, in which James 
 Bird— the hero commemorated in this connection — 
 distinguished himself, and which virtually ended the 
 war, the American fleet sailed for Erie, Upon its 
 arrival, Bird immediately set out for his home at 
 Kingston, anxious to see the dear ones he had left be- 
 hind. That a formal discharge was a necessary con- 
 dition of release from his country's service, when that 
 service was no longer required, never entered his mind. 
 After a happy meeting with his friends, the youthful 
 marine hired to a frontiersman and bej^an the work of 
 clearing up timber, unconscious of having committed 
 any misdemeanor. Bird communicated freely with 
 his employer concerning his experiences under Perry's 
 command, revealing the fact that he had left the fleet 
 without a discharge. Soon after this the heartless 
 employer reported him as a deserter. He was con- 
 victed as such, and by the stern rigors of military dis- 
 cipline was sentenced to be shot. Perry having learned 
 the facts, hastened to the young man with a par- 
 don, but reached the place of execution just a moment 
 too late. One singular circumstance connected with 
 this tragic affair remains to be told. The land which 
 the unfortunate Bird had assisted in clearing for his 
 treacherous and unfeeling employer, never produced 
 aught of vegetable life, but remained a desert tract of 
 barren soil. The lady who kindly furnished the above, 
 and who is highly estimable and wholly trustworthy, 
 
K 
 
 PUT-rXBA K/iV SOXG AXD POETRY. 
 
 4S 
 
 i<^ took its 
 
 tional rem- 
 
 The story 
 
 runs thus: 
 
 lich James 
 
 nnection — 
 
 ended the 
 
 Upon its 
 
 i home at 
 
 lad left be- 
 
 sary con- 
 
 when that 
 
 I his mind. 
 
 le youthful 
 
 e work of 
 
 committed 
 
 eely with 
 
 er Perry's 
 
 Pt the fleet 
 
 heartless 
 
 was con- 
 
 litary dis- 
 
 ig learned 
 
 th a par- 
 
 1 moment 
 
 cted with 
 
 nd which 
 
 ng for his 
 
 produced 
 
 rt tract of 
 
 he above, 
 
 stworthy, 
 
 verifies the truth of this statement, having frequently 
 visited the spot thus strangely branded as with a curse. 
 The music which accompanies the song is as quaint 
 and as wierdly mournful as the words copied below : 
 
 JAMES BIRD. 
 
 "Sons of pleasure, listen to me; 
 
 And ye daughters too give ear; 
 For a sad, and mournful story, 
 As e'er was told you soon shall hear. 
 
 "Hull, you know his troops surrendered, 
 And defenceless left the West; 
 Then our forces quick assembled, 
 The invaders to resist. 
 
 " 'Mongst the troops that marched to Erie, 
 Were the Kingston volunteers; 
 Captain Thomas them commanded. 
 To protect our West frontiers. 
 
 '•There was one among the number, 
 Tall, and graceful was his mein; 
 Firm his step, his look undaunted, 
 Ne'er a nobler youth was seen. 
 
 "One sweet kiss he snatched from Mary, 
 Craved his mother's prayer once more ; 
 Pressed his fath.r's hand, and left them 
 For Lake Erie's distant shore. 
 
 "Soon he came where noble Perry 
 Had assembled all his fleet; 
 There the gallant Bird enlisted, 
 Hoping soon the foe to meet. 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 "Now behold the battle rages, 
 Is he in the strife or no? 
 Now the cannons roar tremendous. 
 Dare he meet the savage foe ? 
 
I 
 
 ! . > 
 
 h 
 
 a 
 
 44 
 
 I 
 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 J 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 : 
 
 
 > 
 
 
 £) 
 
 
 I 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 ! 
 
 PUTIN-DAY FN SOXG AXD POETRY. 
 
 "Yes, behold him — see with Ferry, 
 On tiie self same ship he fights; 
 Though his comrades fall around him, 
 Nothing doth his soul affright. 
 
 "Ah ! behold— a ball has struck him, 
 
 See the crimson current flow; 
 'Leave the deck !' exclaimed brave Perry, 
 "'No', cried Bird, 'I will not go.' 
 
 " 'Here on deck I've took my station. 
 Here will Bird his colors fl} . 
 I'll stand by you, galiant captain. 
 Till we conquer, or I die.' 
 
 "Still he fought, though faint, and bleeding, 
 Till the stars and stripes arose;' 
 Victory having crowned our efforts 
 All triumphant o'er our foes. 
 
 '"Dearest parents, read the letter, 
 That will bring sad news to you ; 
 Do not mourn your first beloved, 
 Though this brings you his adieu ' 
 
 '"I must suffer for desertion. 
 
 From the brig Niagara; 
 Read this letter brother, sister 
 
 T'is the last you'll hear from me.' 
 
 "Dark and gloomy was the morning, 
 Bird was ordered out to die ; 
 Where the heart not dead to pity, 
 But for him would heave a sigh. 
 
 "View him kneeling by his cofifin. 
 
 Sure his death can do no good; 
 'Spare him' ! hark — oh Gor ! they've shot him, 
 See his bosom stream with blood ! 
 
 "Farewell, Bird, farewell forever. 
 
 Friends and home he'll see no more; 
 For his mangled corpse lies buried, 
 On Lake Erie's distant shore." 
 
PUT-IN-BA Y IN SONG AND POETRY. 
 
 45 
 
 nm. 
 
 Noteworthy among recent literary productions, was 
 a lon^ descriptive poem read at the Cleveland Cen- 
 tennial Anniversary on ''Perr^ /ictory Day," September 
 loth, 1896. The opening stanzas are as follows: 
 
 "The sparkling waters of Putin-Hay 
 Are resting in placid peace to clay; 
 But the silvery sheen of their ebbing Hood, 
 Was once stained red with our grand sires' blood. 
 
 "And the dells and dales of the wooded shore, 
 Sent back the wild echo of cannon's roar; 
 While the drifting spars, and shattered hulls, 
 Formed a resting place for the white winged gulls. 
 
 "In one grave near the beach at Put in-Bay, 
 Our friends, and our foes were laid away; 
 
 It is three, and four score years ago, 
 Since Oliver ''erry met the foe, 
 But the deeds heroic done that day, 
 Cast a halo of glory 'round Put in-Bay." 
 
 A "Forest City" pilgrim to the burial place of the 
 illustrious dead, breaks thus into rhyme: 
 
 "Where the white caverned rocks are reflected, 
 
 On the swell of the long curving billow. 
 Near where Perry's dead heroes neglected, 
 
 Lie nameless beneath the gaunt willow, 
 I dreamed of our dead and forgotten. 
 
 Marked "unknown" on the tablets of fame, 
 And a long line of heroes filed past me. 
 
 Who for us gave a life, and a name " 
 
 Further eulogized in a poem by an unknown author, 
 are these old time martyrs; and further deprecated 
 the neglect that has thus far been accorded them : 
 
 "Their monument the willow tree, 
 Their requiem the waves, 
 Of old Lake Erie dashing free, 
 Around their nameless graves; 
 
i 
 
 Ills 
 
 l: 
 
 II 
 
 i 
 
 if 
 
 H 
 
 I |! 
 
 4/3 
 
 PUTIN-BA YIN SONG AND POETRY. 
 
 Their epitaph the withered grass 
 
 That marks their lowly beds, 
 Their eulogy, the moaning winds 
 
 That sigh above their heads. 
 
 "Neglected, and forgotten here, 
 
 Without a line or stone, 
 These brave defenders fill one grave, 
 
 Their very names unknown. 
 Four scores of springs have brought their bloonj, 
 
 To this immortal isle, 
 Since friend and foe were buried here. 
 
 In one promiscuous pile. 
 
 "My countP', not too late to raise, 
 
 A column to the brave, 
 Who brought a glory to the flag, 
 
 A victory to the wave. 
 Who drove the Briton from these shores, 
 
 Who gave this isle a name, 
 Who broug'it the country fresh renown, 
 To Perry, deathless fame." 
 
 So great an aftermath of Perry Victory song 
 and verse has been gleaned however, that further 
 mention of individual effort along this line would be 
 impracticable. 
 
 Though affording themes most favored, the Put- 
 in-Bay muse and musician leave frequently the beaten 
 paths of historical record and popular tradition, to re- 
 vel in dreams of fancy, of love, and romance. 
 
 Poems of sentiment contribute a glamour of roman- 
 tic interest; and compositions such as the "Put- 
 in-Bay March" and "Put-in-Bay Polka" are known to 
 the musical world. Even the "Masher" and his ad- 
 ventures are not forgotten, since in a very spirited song 
 and dance issued by a sheet music publisher, both are 
 embalmed in measures rythmical under the title, "The 
 Girl of Put-in-Bay." 
 
i?K 
 
 r bloom, 
 
 ctory song 
 
 lat further 
 
 would be 
 
 the Put- 
 the beaten 
 tion, to re- 
 
 of roman- 
 the "Put- 
 known to 
 id his ad- 
 rited song 
 both are 
 itle, "The 
 
ll 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 4: 
 
 cc 
 
 
 o 
 
 CO 
 
 r^f ' 
 
cc 
 
 
 < 
 
 VISITORS FROM ANOTHER WORLD. 
 
 A Story of the Battle of Lake Erie. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 The fleet had sailed, and the eight vessels, armed 
 and equipped as ships of war, were heading westward 
 up Lake Erie in search of the skulking squadron of 
 the enemy. 
 
 For some time pr viousl}-, the red llag v>f Great 
 Britain had carried terror to the inhabitants of new 
 .settlements along the southern borders of these disputed 
 waters, but the eagle of Columbia now spread her 
 wings to the breeze, and fluttered upon the pennons of 
 the ships which carried the heroic Perry and his 
 command. 
 
 It was twilight. The western heavens and a wide 
 expanse of sea that blended were still aglow. The 
 moon had risen, and a few stars bolder and more 
 brilliant than their companions looked forth as if im- 
 patient at tne day's lingering departure. A freshening 
 breeze filled the bellying canvas of the vessels as they 
 swept silently onward. Presque Isle, from whicii the 
 squadron had cleared lay far beliind, while to the left a 
 long, low belt of land marked the southern shores with 
 their dark interminable forests lit at intervals by Indian 
 camp fires. 
 
 On the deck of the ilag-ship Lav\ .ice, leaning 
 over the bulwarks, appeared a young man attired in 
 
' i I, 
 
 i 
 
 
 I i I?' 
 
 i 
 
 [I 
 
 I 
 
 ;; 
 
 i 111 !! 
 
 48 
 
 VISITORS FROM ANOTHER WORLD, 
 
 the uniform of an officer whom we will introduce to 
 the reader as Arthur Holmes. 
 
 Though still under twenty-five years, the unmistak- 
 able lines of some deep sorrow were already traced 
 upon his brow. Near the young officer a group of 
 tars and marines were discussing the prospective en- 
 gagement and its probable results. At the mast-head 
 a man was stationed to watch for the appearance of 
 the enemy, and a half suppressed buzz of expectation 
 extended to all the vessels of the fleet. The young 
 officer appeared too closely occupied by his own 
 thoughts at this moment, however, to join in specu- 
 lation regarding the expedition, and too calm to be 
 agitated by anything that might occur in the near future. 
 He seemed oblivious to all around, when approached 
 by a brother officer of about his own age and rank who 
 bore the name of Robert Reade. 
 
 "Don't brood," said Reade, placing hii hand on 
 Holmes' shoulder. 
 
 The latter turned toward his companion with a 
 smile so sad that it failed to illumine even for a moment 
 the settled gloom of his features. 
 
 "This will never do, Arthur," said Reade, speaking 
 in a kind but decisive manner. "You must get out of 
 yourself. You must drown past sorrow, by throwing 
 yourself into present activities. Surely we have enough 
 to occupy our minds at this time without broodmg 
 over a dead and buried past. We shall soon stand 
 shoulder to shoulder in a combat that must result in 
 signal victory or defeat, and we should try to forget 
 everything except the issues of this glorious under- 
 taking.' 
 
 »» 
 
A STOR Y OF THE BA TTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 
 
 49 
 
 oduce to 
 
 mmistak- 
 [y traced 
 group of 
 ictive en- 
 nast-head 
 irance of 
 :pectation 
 he young 
 his own 
 n specu- 
 alm to be 
 ar future, 
 ►proached 
 rank who 
 
 hand on 
 
 with a 
 moment 
 
 speaking 
 
 let out of 
 
 hrowing 
 
 enough 
 
 »roodmg 
 
 >n stand 
 
 •esult in 
 
 forget 
 
 under- 
 
 "I cannot drown nor forget the past, but when the 
 time comes to fight — I am ready." 
 
 Holmes spoke with quiet firmness, and an expres- 
 sion of steady determination shone in his dark eyes. 
 
 Before proceeding, we will further introduce our 
 young hero b}' sketching a page or two of his previous 
 history. It was six months since a tragic occurrence 
 had seemed destined to overshadow all the remaining 
 years of his life. 
 
 A year previous he had become engaged to a 
 young and beautiful girl, Nellie Wilder, the daughter 
 of Connecticut paren s who had settled upon the lake 
 border. Arthur cherished a strong attachment for the 
 girl which was fully reciprocated, and forgetting the 
 dangers and privations incident to the pioneer, his life 
 grew into perfect happiness beneath the sunshine of 
 her presence.. 
 
 The parents of Nellie Wilder lived in a cabin near 
 the banks of a small river. On the opposite side had 
 settled the family of a hunter, and an intimacy fostered 
 by the solitude of the situation sprang up be- 
 tween the two families. An Indian canoe served to 
 bridge the stream, and one afternoon in the early 
 spring, Nellie, wishing to visit the neighboring cabin, 
 crossed in the canoe and fastening it to a stake, proceeded 
 on foot through a strip of forest that lay between the 
 stream and the hunter's home. 
 
 The afternoon wore away. The sun went down 
 and early twilight shadows gathered darkly in the 
 thick forest. Nellie had not returned, and the Wilder 
 family grew alarmed. Crossing the river on an impro- 
 vised raft, Mr. Wilder repaired to the hunter's cabin. 
 
i I 
 
 60 
 
 VISITORS FROM ANOTHER WORLD. 
 
 \ 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 a . 
 
 I i 
 
 i il 
 
 'f 
 
 ;i! 
 
 iii: 
 
 I, 
 
 i'i 
 
 To his dismay he found that Nelhe had not been there 
 and had not been seen. The news of her disappearance 
 spread rapidly through the small settlement. When 
 it reached the ears of Arthur Holmes he instantly pro- 
 ceeded to organize a body of men for the purpose of 
 pursuing and overhauling a roving band of Indians 
 which had passed that day through the settlement. 
 Arthur had felt convinced that the Indians had raptured 
 the girl and carried her away with them. Full of rest- 
 less anxiety, he was soon in hot pursuit at the head of 
 twenty armed men. They struck the trail of the fugi- 
 tives and pressed forward, but it was not until the 
 afternoon of the next day that they were overtaken. 
 The Indians were surprised and captured in a ravine 
 where they had camped for the purpose of roast- 
 ing game; but Nellie was not with them, and 
 no trace of her could be found. The Indians professed 
 total ignorance concerning her. They represented 
 themselves as peaceably disposed, and begged per- 
 mission to continue on their way. Arthur w as bitterly 
 disappointed but persuaded that the statement made by 
 the Indians was correct, he allowed them to proceed. 
 
 A new apprehension now took possession of Arthur. 
 Perhaps Nellie had wandered into the forest and had 
 become the prey of wild beasts. The thought tilled 
 him with agony, and he cursed his weak judgment 
 which had led him so far on this wild chase, when he 
 should have scoured the nearer forest. A solution of 
 the mystery awaited him when he reached the settle- 
 ment, and uncertainty gave place to horrible reality. 
 
 In his absence, search had been made along the 
 river bank. At a point where the trees grew thick 
 
.D. 
 
 been there 
 appearance 
 nt. When 
 itantly pro- 
 purpose of 
 of Indians 
 settlement, 
 id captured 
 'ull of rest- 
 he head of 
 )f the fugi- 
 3t until the 
 overtaken. 
 in a ravine 
 of roast- 
 (heni, and 
 professed 
 epresented 
 gged per- 
 as bitterly 
 made by 
 3 proceed, 
 of Arthur, 
 t and had 
 ght filled 
 judgment 
 when he 
 olution of 
 the settle- 
 
 eality. 
 ilong the 
 ew thick 
 
 A STORY OF THE BA TTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 51 
 
 and dark, twenty yards below where the canoe was 
 fastened, strips of clothing identical with that worn by 
 Nellie, spotted with blood, together with small wisps 
 of tangled hair were scattered promisciously about a 
 pool of clotted gore. The hair, soft and wav}', was of 
 a peculiar shade of auburn seldom seen, and all who 
 had known Nellie Wilder at c.ce recognized it as hers. 
 At this revelation some of the settlers now remembered 
 havin<r heard the ho*vl of wolves west of the river on 
 the afternoon of the girl's disappearance. Nellie had 
 undoubtedly been killed and devoured by wild beasts. 
 A curl of the blood-stained hair and a locket containing 
 lier miniature was all that remained to Arthur of one 
 who was dearer to him than life. 
 
 We will briefly pass over the months that followed 
 lliis occurrence. Arthur was at Jlrst stupefied and un- 
 able to comprehend the truth. When at last the ter- 
 rible reality came surging upon him, his brain reeled 
 and reason tottered. A violent fit of sickness followed, 
 his life hung in the balance, but he recovered and 
 went out into the world a changed man, for all the 
 music and sunshine had departed from his life. When 
 in answer to a call to arms he entered the navy under 
 command of Perry, he cherished the secret wish that 
 should a sacrifice of life be required, his might be the 
 first. 
 
 Such was the state of Arthur's mind, when the 
 reader first sees him in the person of a handsome, intel- 
 ligent, but sad faced young officer on board the man- 
 of-war. 
 
 Two days after clearing from Presque Isle, the 
 squadron reached the head of Lake Erie without hav- 
 
■! 
 
 I 
 
 l^f 
 
 I 
 
 I'll 
 
 !( U] 
 
 ; 
 
 I 
 
 1-1 
 
 I 
 
 62 
 
 VISITORS FROM ANOTHER WORLD, 
 
 ing encountered the enemy; and now lay within a se- 
 questered bay formed by the protecting shoies of 
 clustering islands. Under the mellow light of dreamy 
 skies, and lapped by blue waves, these islands appeared 
 serenely beautiful, though no sight nor sound of visible 
 life disturbed the solitude of their forest covered shores 
 save the chattering of birds, or screaming of eagles as 
 they wheeled away over the topmasts of the vessels 
 at anchor. In this bay, the fleet lay for days and 
 weeks watching for that of the British. Meantime, the 
 officers and marines pulled ashore in straggling bands 
 in quest of amusement. There were recent traces of 
 Indians, but they had doubtless fled at the approach 
 of the battleships. Two or three indifferent looking 
 cabins in cleared spaces indicated that the whites 
 had also held a foothold there, but they too had 
 disappeared. 
 
 One afternoon, weary of life on shipboard, Arthur 
 Holmes had landed at one of the larger islands with the 
 intention of exploring its shores. He was accompanied by 
 Rudolph Gustave, an old marine commonly known as 
 "the bull-dog"— so called from his fighting qualities. 
 The two had spent the afternoon wandering about ad- 
 miring the romantic scenery and remarking the peculiar 
 roughness of the limestone upon every side. Numer- 
 ous caves and crevices had also attracted their atten- 
 tion, but warned at last by approaching night they 
 started for the shore where they had left their boat* 
 On the way thither Arthur halted to examine a curi- 
 ously formed specimen of rock over which he had 
 stumbled when attracted by an exclamation of surprise 
 from his companion. 
 
A STORY OF THE RATTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 
 
 63 
 
 ithin a se- 
 shoies of 
 of dreamy 
 3 appeared 
 [ of visible 
 ;red shores 
 f eagles as 
 :he vessels 
 days and 
 antime, the 
 rling bands 
 it traces of 
 : approach 
 
 rd, Arthur 
 s with the 
 mpaniedby 
 known as 
 qualities, 
 about ad- 
 le peculiar 
 Numer- 
 heir atten- 
 night they 
 their boat, 
 line a curi- 
 ch he had 
 of surprise 
 
 "What have you found ?" queried Arthur stepping 
 quickly forward. 
 
 "What say you ?" returned Rudolph. 
 
 "Witches, faries, spirits, or flesh and blood ? " 
 
 "What do you mean ? " exclaimed Arthur, noting 
 the look of amazement on the swarthy face of his com- 
 pr ■'ion. 
 
 "Did'nt you see those two women ?" 
 
 "Women! There are no women on this forsaken 
 island." 
 
 "Then they were spirits," replied Rudolph. 
 
 "It must havj been imagination on your part, or an 
 optical delusion." 
 
 "No imagination, no delusion. 1 saw them as 
 plainly as I see you." 
 
 "Then where did they go?" 
 
 "That 1 don't know; they seemed to disappear be- 
 hind that clump of cedars, but may be they vanished 
 into the air." 
 
 "I see you are inclined to be superstitious." 
 
 "Call it superstition if you will," returned Rudolph 
 testily. 
 
 "Let us see if we can catch another glimpse of 
 them;" said Arthur walking toward the clump of cedars 
 in question. " What did they look like ? " 
 
 "One was a white woman; the other dark. I 
 hardly noticed the dark one, but 1 should know the 
 white face among ten thousand." 
 
 "Was there anything peculiar about the face?" 
 
 "There was everything peculiar. I can't exactly 
 explain in what way, only it was the most beautiful 
 face that 1 ever saw. Dark curling hair with a glint 
 
'III^ 
 
 [-Mr 
 
 I 
 
 ' \ 
 
 ■J 
 
 ■!( 
 
 64 
 
 V/SITORS FROM ANOTHER WORLD. 
 
 of gold touching it, and blue cyts tluit looked as if they 
 belonged to an angel." 
 
 Arthur was visibly impress'jd by this description 
 but said nothing. They searched among the thick 
 growths of underbrush, but found no trace of any liv- 
 in<r creature. Arthur thought strange of the affair, 
 but inwardly laid it to the superstitious fancy of Rudolph 
 and as it was now growing late they hurriedly left the 
 spot and returned to the vessel. 
 
 That night when the moon shone brightly overhead, 
 Arthur Holmes looked about the deck for Rudolph. 
 He found the old soldier reclining against the truck of 
 a cannon. Arthur wished to speak further concerning 
 the singular occurrence in the woods, but waited for 
 Rudolph to begin. 
 
 After a few common- places, the latter turned sud- 
 denly toward his companion. 
 
 "So you don't believe in spirits?" observed he, 
 
 "O yes! in their places of course, but I should hardly 
 imagine them stalking about deserted islands." 
 
 "That might depend upon what their errands 
 were," replied Rudolph. 
 
 "Young man," continued the latter after a mo- 
 ment's silence, "don't tell me there are no spirits, be- 
 cause I have felt their presence. Yes, and they can 
 travel between this and the other world just when 
 they have a mind to." 
 
 He drew from his pocket a metallic case, one side 
 of wl ich was partially shattered, and opened it. 
 
 "Look ! Here is a picture of my mother. She 
 died when I was a boy, and now let me tell you how 
 that case got shattered." 
 
STOR\ OF THE BA TTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 
 
 55 
 
 description 
 the thick 
 of any Hv- 
 E the affair, 
 of Rudolph 
 idly left the 
 
 ,y overhead, 
 »r Rudolph, 
 the truck of 
 - concerning 
 waited for 
 
 turned sud- 
 
 ved he, 
 ould hardly 
 ds." 
 leir errands 
 
 lafter a mo- 
 spirits, be- 
 |nd they can 
 just when 
 
 se, one side 
 led it. 
 
 Other. She 
 11 you how 
 
 "It was the night before the battle of Trafalgar, 
 and I lay with my mess mates about me. I was 
 pretty tired and dropped into a sound sleep. I don't 
 know how long I had slept when I was suddenly 
 
 \v 
 
 ikened by a voice close to my ear calling 
 
 ^Dolpl 
 
 lie 
 
 — that was w 
 
 hat 
 
 my 
 
 mother used to call me, and it 
 
 was her voice just as I remembered it when a boy. I 
 startetl and looked around. My comrades were all 
 asleep and everything quiet. It must have been a 
 dream, I said to myself, and though it impressed me 
 a o^ood deal, I lay down after a little and was just 
 dozing off when 1 felt the touch of a soft hand upon 
 mv forehead, and heard that same voice again calling 
 my name. I was wide awake in an instant. My 
 comrades were still sleeping, and the silence around 
 made it seem strange and solemn. Then I felt and 
 knew that a visitor from another world had come to 
 me and that visitor was my mother. 
 
 " 'But why should she come to me now after these 
 many years?' thought I. 'Is there anything that dis- 
 turbs her rest?' 
 
 "I couldn't sleep, so I got up and took a few turns 
 up and down on a short beat, speculating on the 
 curious affair and thinking of my mother. After a 
 while I sat down and put my hand into my breast 
 pocket for this picture — I always carry it there. Then 
 1 remembered that I had slipped it into my knapsack 
 when mending my blouse a few days before, and 
 h.'.dn't thought to put it back in its place. I looked 
 at the picture a long while. My mother as she ap- 
 peared in life was a quiet, sad faced woman, but pretty 
 looking with mild brown eyes and fair hair. As I 
 
flff 
 
 '•■^^ 
 
 i'^ 
 
 'I 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 \m 
 
 I I; 
 
 66 
 
 VISITORS FROM ANOTHER WORLD. 
 
 gazed, old memories came cro\vdin<^ to my mind, and 
 the picture of a church, a i;rave}'ard, and a little 
 marble cross bearinjf my mother's name- lying under 
 the shadow of mountains among which 1 was born 
 away in sunny France - came before me. 
 
 "I had grown up rough-like, but at that moment 
 my feelings got the better of me, and I cried like a 
 baby. I put the picture back in my pocket, close 
 where my heart could beat against it. 
 
 "Well, the next day when the battle was at its 
 height and shot and shell were showering about like 
 hail, a ball penetrated my clothing and struck the 
 miniature tliat lay over m}'^ heart, shattering the case as 
 you see. That picture saved my life. Then it oc- 
 curred to me why my mother had come to me so 
 strangely at dead of night and jogged my memory. 
 But for the reminder, I shouldn't have thought to put 
 the picture in my pocket before the battle, 
 
 "Another time when the fritjate Marseilles — on 
 board of which I served — went to pieces off the Cape 
 of Good Hope, all through the storm and darkness of 
 that awful night, when the seas were sweeping our 
 decks fore and aft and the timbers were wrenching 
 apart and everything going by the board — that night 
 I could feel my mother's presence about me which 
 ever wa}' 1 turned and when the vessel parted amid- 
 ships and went down, I reached land, clinging to a 
 broken spar, one of only three mtm saved from a crew 
 of eighty tars and marines." 
 
 At the conclusion of this narration Rudolph re- 
 lapsed into silence, while under the brilliant moonlight 
 Arthur examined the shattered case and studied the 
 
A STORY OJ^' THE BA TTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 
 
 57 
 
 I mind, and 
 and a little 
 ying under 
 I was born 
 
 hat moment 
 cried like a 
 ocket, close 
 
 e was at its 
 5 about like 
 1 struck the 
 ig the case as 
 Then it oc- 
 me to me so 
 my memory, 
 ought to put 
 
 urseilles — on 
 off the Cape 
 darkness of 
 weeping our 
 e wrenching 
 l—that night 
 It me which 
 )r\rted amid- 
 :linging to a 
 from a crew 
 
 I Rudolph re- 
 
 ^nt moonlight 
 
 studied the 
 
 picture with interest. The wierdness of the old vet- 
 eran's stories liad strangely impressed him. 
 
 "You seem to think a great deal of this picture." 
 
 "Yes ! Wouldn't part with it for a kingdom." 
 
 "I too have a picture that I always carry, and that 
 I value as highly as you do this," observed Arthur, 
 handing back the miniature, 
 
 "Indeed !" exclaimed Rudolpii brightening. "Your 
 mother.''" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Sister.^" 
 
 "No !" 
 
 "Sweetheart then, perhaps?" 
 
 Arthur nodded assent, and taking the picture of 
 Nellu' Wilder from his pocket, passed it to the old 
 soldier. 
 
 "I don't v/onder you value it," said Rudolph, hold- 
 ing the picture so that the moon's rays c- uld fall full 
 upon it. 
 
 "it's the face of a saint and no mistake." 
 
 Then suddenly, with a puzzled expression, Ru- 
 [dolph bent over, scanning it still more closel}'; his 
 hand to his head as if trying to recall something which 
 [he had forgotten . 
 
 "1 believe that I have seen that face somewhere 
 [before." he said musingl}-. 
 
 Arthur shook his head. 
 
 "I think not," he replied. 
 
 "Then I have seen one exactly like it, I swear!" 
 "eplied Rudolph with increasing interest. 
 
 "I would go a long way to see a face like that; 
 rho, and wheie could it have been?" 
 
"'■ 
 
 58 
 
 VISITORS FROM A NO THKR J J 'ORLD. 
 
 lilt 
 
 "That's just vvliat I'm trying to get through my 
 head, 
 
 "I know!" he exchiimed, "I know!" Then drop- 
 ping his voice to a low tone, he continued — 
 
 "It was the face that I saw this afternoon, over on 
 yonder island." 
 
 Arthur was not superstitious, hut his imagination 
 had heen deeply wrought upon during the afternoon, 
 and evening, and the color now left his cheeks and he 
 trembled with nervous excitement. 
 
 "You are fanciful," he said tu -ning to Rudolph. 
 "May be I am, but what I see, I see." "You kuow 
 I told vou that I would know that face among ten 
 thousand." 
 
 "So 3'^ou think the face that you saw was like the 
 one in this picture." 
 
 "I do," replied Rudolph emphaticalU'. 
 
 "What did you say was the color of the hair?" 
 
 "It was dark with a shade of gold running through 
 t, and was waw and curlinj^ like." 
 
 "Then the color must have been auburn," sug- 
 gested Arthur with quivering lij"). 
 
 "Yes, I believe it was what would be called 
 auburn." 
 
 Arthur took the picture from its case; as he did so 
 a curl of hair fell at his feet. lie picked it up, and 
 laid it tenderly within his palm. There were stains of 
 blood upon it, but observable only on close examina- 
 tion. Catching the moonbeams a glint of light 
 mingled with the darker shade. 
 
 "Was it anything like this?" queried Arthur, 
 handing Rudolph the lock of hair. 
 
 \\i 
 
LD. 
 
 1 rough my 
 
 ^hen drop- 
 
 )n, over on 
 
 mntrination 
 
 afternoon, 
 
 (jks and he 
 
 idol ph. 
 'You Li.iow 
 among ten 
 
 k'as like the 
 
 hair?" 
 ng through 
 
 )urn," sug- 
 
 be called 
 
 he did so 
 
 lit up, and 
 
 c' stains of 
 
 examina- 
 
 of light 
 
 Arthur, 
 
 A STORY OF THE DA TTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 
 
 59 
 
 - 'a 
 
 "Aye, the very same; where did you get this?" 
 "It belonged to the girl in the picture." 
 Rudolph gazed at the curl of hair, and the minia- 
 ture and was silent. 
 
 "Young man," he said slowly at last. "I don't 
 want to say anything to make you uneasy, but I am 
 afraid there is something wrong. This appearance 
 may be a token to you from your sweetheart. Some- 
 thing may have happened her." 
 
 "Something has happened her," replied Arthur, 
 choking with emotion. 
 "How's that?" 
 
 "She has been dead ih^^se six months." 
 "Then it was her spirit that 1 saw." 
 "Well, but why should she appear to 3'ou, a 
 stranger, and not to me?" 
 
 "That is a question which I cannot answer." 
 Arthur related the circumstances of Nellie Wilder's 
 death, and the two friends remained in close conversa- 
 tion until the moon had passed her zenith and was 
 climbing down the western skies. The midnight stars 
 were looking down into the sleeping bay, and the wild 
 notes of the whip-poor-will re-echoed from adjacent 
 shores when Arthur turned into his hammock. 
 
 The strange problem presented by the incidents 
 narrated, together with other thoughts and emotions, 
 so occupied his mind that to sleep was impossible. 
 Questions to which he could lind no answer recurred 
 to him again and again. 
 
 "Did the departed ever return? And had the spirit 
 of Nellie Wilder appeared to Rudolph Gustave; or 
 was this man the dupe of superstition, weakness and 
 
'■ — ' — 1""-**'^ "■"'iiiiiBa 
 
 60 
 
 VISITORS FROM ANOTHER WO RID, 
 
 II 
 
 
 'in 
 
 
 ignorance? Superstitious he might be, but he was 
 neither weak nor ignorant. 
 
 "Why may not etherealized beings traverse 
 measureless distances and become visible to mortal 
 eyes? 
 
 "If this were so, then might not the spirit of his 
 loved and lost return to him again? 
 
 "Oh, that she would come back to me now. That 
 1 might feel the touch of her hand upon my forehead 
 and gaze once more upon the sweet face, though i 
 were that of spirit." 
 
 CHAPTER n, 
 A Mystery Unravtllcd* 
 
 Two days aft^^r the events above related occurred 
 the battle ol Lake Erie, the details of which have 
 passed into history and need no rehearsal in this con- 
 nection. 
 
 Arthur received a wound in the left arm, which 
 though comparatively slight, was very painful. The 
 next day after the battle \)*t witnessed from tJie d<ck of 
 the Niagara the burial of the officers of both squadrons 
 slain in the engagement. The bodies were conveyed 
 in boats to the shores oi the larger island a-nc' interred 
 with fitting ceremonials. 
 
 "By what strange providence''" quc ^wied Arthur, 
 
 "By what strange providence lias my life been 
 spared? I v. ho have nothing for whi^-h to live, while 
 
e, but he was 
 
 iings traverse 
 iible to morta! 
 
 le spirit of his 
 
 e now. That 
 I my forehead 
 ice, though it 
 
 ated occurred 
 f which have 
 a) in this con- 
 
 t arm, which 
 Damful. The 
 m \.\w- ckck of 
 3th squadrons 
 ire conveyed 
 1 em^, interred 
 
 rjiled Arthur, 
 ny hfe been 
 to live, while 
 
Jlj 
 
 !■■: 
 
 1! ', i 
 
 
 ; 
 
 m 
 
 It i 
 
 W' 
 
 ii!;:! 
 
 I 
 
 uJ 
 
 >• 
 
 J 
 Q 
 Ll 
 UJ 
 
 z 
 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 t ; 
 
A STORY OF THE BA TTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 
 
 61 
 
 i 4? 
 
 others bound to existence by ties of love and tenderness 
 have fallen victinns to the grim destroyer?" 
 
 His wound exempting him from further duty, Ar- 
 thur obtained permission to remain in a small settle- 
 ment on the peninsula lying southwest of the islands, 
 the squadron having anchored off that place to prepare 
 for a transportation of troops to Canada. 
 
 At the expiration of two weeks the wound had so 
 
 [far improved as to allow the young soldier freedom to 
 
 Imove about. He grew restless and finally became 
 
 I possessed of a strange desire to return to the islands 
 
 I off which the battle was fought, although he could 
 
 I not have defined satisfactorily the motive which 
 
 "piompted the desire. He felt a morbid longing to see 
 
 I the spot where had occurred the singular adventure 
 
 3 with the old French soldier. The solitary island pos- 
 
 ; sessed for hi:: a fascination which grew as the days 
 
 went by. There were but a few intervening miles of 
 
 ] water between it and the peninsula, and yielding to a 
 
 Hreak of fancy he resolved to again visit the place. 
 
 v! Under pretext of reviewing the scene of the battle 
 
 Jand burial place of the slain, he persuaded two young 
 
 |men to accompany him. Accordingly on a bright au- 
 
 Stumnal morning, when scarlet-leaved sumachs drooped 
 
 over the rocks and were reflected in the calm blue 
 
 of Erie, a light, staunch boat containing the trio pulled 
 
 .awav toward the lone island in the distance. In less 
 
 Ithan two hour's they had r'eached their destination, and 
 
 finding a level beach landed and drew up the boat. On 
 
 proceeding along a bend of the shore, they di.^; overbed 
 
 two Indian canoes lying wathin a cove. The discovery 
 
 rather intimidated Arthur's companions, but they were 
 
Ill: 
 
 I til! 
 
 62 
 
 VISITORS FROM ANOTHER WORLD. 
 
 all well armed and he persuaded them to proceed, 
 having Hrst secreted the boat among some bushes. 
 They advanced cautiously, Arthur leading the way. 
 He remembered the spot where lay the Mecca of his 
 pilgrimage and moved eagerly toward it. 
 
 "Hist ! I thought I saw a shadow moving among 
 the trees," said one of the men in a low tone. 
 "Where.^" queried Arthur. 
 "Beyond that bunch of cedars." 
 
 It was the very spot upon which Rudolph had 
 witnessed the unaccountable appearance. They paused 
 a moment, but seeing nothing crept silently forward, 
 when they came in view of an Indian camp. 
 
 From a heap of faggots the smoke curled lazily 
 upwards through the trees, and near the fire stood a 
 wigwam. An old squaw was stirring the contents of 
 a kettle suspended over the blaze, while two Indians 
 sat upon their haunches conversing in the broken jar- 
 gon of their native tongue. 
 
 The three men lay motionless in a thicket that 
 screened them, fearing to move lest they should be dis- 
 covered. In a few minutes, however, the two unsus- 
 pecting Indians arore, and taking their rifles that lay 
 across a fallen tree, left the camp. 
 
 "Now's our time," whispered one of the men." The 
 squaw will see us if we move and give the alarm." 
 
 "We must be cautious, for there may be Indians 
 enough in the vicinity to outnumber us," observed 
 Arthur. 
 
 "That's true, but we must get out of this; suppose 
 we gag the woman and tie her to a tree." 
 
D. 
 
 A STORY OF THE BA TTLE OF LAK 
 
 ' i.> r ^ 
 
 6y 
 
 o proceed, 
 ne bushes. 
 f the way. 
 [ecca of his 
 
 ing among 
 
 e. 
 
 idolph had 
 hey paused 
 ly forward, 
 
 P- 
 
 urled lazily 
 fire stood a 
 contents of 
 wo Indians 
 broken jar- 
 
 licket that 
 )uld be dis- 
 Itvvo unsus- 
 |es that lay 
 
 len." The 
 ilarm." 
 I be Indians 
 '' observed 
 
 lis; suppose 
 
 Tiie woman stood with her back toward the thicket 
 where the men- were concealed, and rising they ad- 
 vanced stealthily towards her. 
 
 Wliile making his way through a mass of under- 
 growth Arthur's feet slipped from beneath him, and 
 he sank through an opening in the ground. He felt a 
 rush of cold air and stifling darkness about him, but 
 after descending several feet struck upon the floor of 
 a cavern. A torch was burning wilhin, and half dazed 
 witli his fall, and the discovery to which it had led he 
 groped his way toward the light. The cavern appeared 
 long and wide, and myriads of stalactites glistened 
 overhead. The farther extremity was apparently 
 bounded by a wall of abrupt rocks, beneath which a 
 crvstal lake seemed to lead away into unexplored pas- 
 sages througli and under the shelving wall. All this 
 he took in at a glance, and having recovered himself, 
 Arthur hastily retraced his steps toward the spot where 
 he had so abruptly descended. He saw a glimmer of 
 daylight, and by the aid of a pole let down by his 
 companions from above, clambered to the surface. 
 Unaware of danger, the squaw still bent over the 
 steaming pottage with her back toward the approach- 
 ing pale faces. She was seized, securely bound to 
 a trte, and a handkerchief tied over her mouth to pre- 
 vent an outcry. The men were turning to leave the 
 spot, when they saw tw^o more squaws approaching. 
 "We'll have to nab them too, observed one of the 
 number or they'll make us trouble." 
 
 They crept once more into the bushes. 
 
 "One is a white woman — sure as fate!" he con- 
 tinued under his breath, peeping from the covert. 
 
11 
 
 Sn ' 
 
 H» 
 
 !;J 
 
 111 M; 
 
 ill 
 
 m 
 
 11. 
 
 I 'llMi 
 
 m 
 mi 
 
 (ill 
 
 Mil 
 ■lih 
 
 1 ; 
 
 nil 
 
 64 
 
 VISITORS PROM ANOTHER WORLD. 
 
 Arthur looked cautiously over a log behind which 
 he lay. 
 
 "Great heavens!" he exclaimed. "The white spirit 
 — Nellie Wilder!" and forgetful of danger he sprang 
 to hio feet. 
 
 Yeb, it was indeed, her face and form, just as he had 
 known her in life; no change was observable excepting 
 in attire, her sligiit form being clothed in the Indian 
 costume. 
 
 "O, Arthur! Arthur!" she exclaimed, holding out 
 both hands while a glad, tumultuous light shone in her 
 eyes. "Don't you know me, Arthur?" for he stood 
 as if spell-bound. 
 
 He had wished, aye prayed to behold the spirit of 
 his lost love; was this the fulfilment of his wish — the 
 answer to his prayer? 
 
 But the hands that clasped his were pulsating with 
 the swift warm current of life; the form was not that of 
 an etherealized being, while a tint of rose touched the 
 rounded checks slightly browned by exposure. 
 
 "Nellie, in Heaven's name, tell me, is this you or 
 your spirit?" 
 
 "It is I, Arthur, I have lived among the Indians 
 ever since I was stolen away, and oh, I am so glad that 
 you have found me at last." 
 
 Was it reality? Arthur drew his hand across his 
 eyes, his brain whirled and he grew faint. During 
 this scene the squaw was secured by the two men who 
 now stood^ regarding with astonishment this meeting 
 between Arthur and the unknown beautiful girl who 
 had so mysteriously appeared amid that scene of wild- 
 ness and solitude. 
 
D. 
 
 lind which 
 
 vhite spirit 
 he sprang 
 
 t as he had 
 
 ; excepting 
 
 the Indian 
 
 lolding out 
 lione in her 
 )r he stood 
 
 he spirit of 
 \ wish — the 
 
 sating with 
 not that of 
 ouched the 
 
 lire, 
 this you or 
 
 the Indians 
 so glad that 
 
 d across his 
 During 
 o men who 
 lis meeting 
 ful girl who 
 ene of wild- 
 
 A STOR Y OF THE BA TTLE OF LAKE ERIE, 
 
 65 
 
 "But Nellie," insisted Arthur, unable to grasp the 
 truth, "I thought you were devoured by wild beasts?" 
 
 "I will tell you all. J^ut come, she said with sud- 
 den terror. If the Indians find you here they will kill 
 vou. They are four times your number. Oh, what 
 shall we do?" 
 
 "Come with me." Arthur clasped the girl's hand, 
 and the whole party set out for the shore where the 
 boat was secured. 
 
 Tliey had just shoved it into the water when a yell 
 l)ruke from tiie forest. Their flight was discovered. 
 
 "Oh, haste ! Haste !" exclaimed Nellie, 
 
 "You will not let them take me, Arthur?" 
 
 "Not until they have first taken my life. 
 
 In a moment they were in the boat, and in answer 
 to long and vigorous strokes the light craft shot like 
 an arrow through the water. A crack of tire-arms 
 soundfd from shore and several bullets struck the 
 water that swept by them. Another volley soon fol- 
 lowed, but the bullets fell short. The boat had passed 
 beyond the enemy's line and was speeding toward the 
 peninsula. Though greatly disappointed at the loss 
 of their game, the savages showed no disposition to 
 follow, and the suspense was over. 
 
 "Now, Nellie, tell me how this has come about; I 
 c annot understand," said Arthur, holding closely her 
 hands, as if he feared that she might yet vanish from 
 his sight. 
 
 "1 was captured by Indians while on my way to 
 the hunter's cabin," said Nellie. "They were travel- 
 ling towards the west and took me with them." 
 
 "Well, but we found a pool of blood with tangled 
 
QQ 
 
 VISITORS FROM ANOTHER WORLD. 
 
 ''m': 
 
 .:■'' 
 
 [11;!: 
 
 'I 
 
 i 1^ 
 
 tresses of hair and shreds of clothing about it, which 
 we knew to be yours." 
 
 "Yes, they took away from me my clothing and 
 dressed me Hke an Indian maiden. They had killed a 
 deer, and the ground where it had fallen was satu- 
 rated with blood. They tore my clothing into strips, 
 cut off some of my hair, and trampled them into the 
 pool of blood. I saw and knew that it was done to 
 make it appear that 1 had been torn to pieces by wild 
 animals." 
 
 "But, Nellie, we overhauled that band of Indians the 
 next day, and you were not to be found among them." 
 
 "Yes," she replied, "but the band separated, part 
 going by another way and taking me along. I think 
 that it was done to get their white pursuers off the 
 track, for the two divisions afterwards came together. 
 
 "We travelled several days, finally camping upon 
 the shore of the lake, where we remained three or 
 four months, then crossed in canoes to the islands, 
 where they have kept me ever since," 
 
 "I tried to escape, but found it impossible, so 
 closelv watched was I. 
 
 "An old squaw took charge ot me, and I grew 
 to regard her as a friend and protector. But the 
 chief of the band wished me to marry his son Che- 
 wipsa, a young warrior. I refused and Chewipsa 
 went away to light the pale faces, but they made me 
 understand that when he returned, I was to be forced 
 into marriage with him. The time had come for his 
 return, and I cried and prayed every day that 1 might 
 be delivered from such a fate. 
 
 "One night 1 dreamed that I saw you on board a 
 
D. 
 
 t it, which 
 
 othing and 
 lad killed a 
 I was satu- 
 into strips, 
 im into the 
 .vas done to 
 :ces by wild 
 
 \ Indians the 
 
 lonii them.'* 
 
 )arated, part 
 
 ng. I think 
 
 iuers off the 
 
 ne together. 
 
 mping upon 
 
 ed three or 
 
 the islands, 
 
 possible, so 
 
 and I grew 
 )r. r3ut the 
 lis son Che- 
 Chewipsa 
 lev made me 
 to be forced 
 ;ome for his 
 that 1 might 
 
 . on board a 
 
 A STORY OF THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERLE. 
 
 67 
 
 vessel bound up the lake. The next day a fleet bear- 
 ing the American colors put into the bay. I tried to 
 escape to those vessels, but my captors secreted 
 themselves and me in a large cave, near the place 
 where you found me — the entrance being concealed so 
 as not to be easily discovered. 
 
 "One day there was heavy firing and I knew that 
 a battle was being fought on the lake. We remained 
 several days in the cave, and when we came out the 
 vessels were gone." 
 
 Arthur in turn related his story, to which Nellie 
 listened with a look of wonder. 
 
 "Now you will not think it strange that I should 
 have regarded you as a visitor from another world 
 when I met you in the woods," he added after the nar- 
 ration. 
 
 "And, Nellie, 1 should never have known the joy 
 which I now possess, deep and unbounded, if I had not 
 suffered so. 
 
 "The same Providence that preserved my life, the 
 life that I fain would have cast away as broken and 
 useless, has brought us together, Nellie." 
 
 Thus speaking, a silent prayer of thankfulness 
 went upwards from the two united hearts to the great 
 Father of Mysteries. 
 
 But little more remains to be told. Arthur Holmes 
 and Nellie Wilder returned to their respective places 
 of abode, and with the dawn of national peace and 
 prosperity which followed Perry's victory on Lake 
 Erie, they were sealed in a solemn compact of love 
 and faith which through the sunshine and shadow of 
 their subsequent lives remained unbroken. 
 
A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 Capture of the Steamers Philo Parsons and Island Queen* 
 
 i 
 
 
 liiiliil 
 
 Lyin<]j as they do on the boundary line of two 
 countries, the Lake Erie islands are destined to figure 
 conspicuously on the page of future history, and in 
 time may rival in tales of war and romance the cas- 
 tled and fortressed shores of Germany's famed Rhine 
 river and other renowned frontiers of countries and 
 kinsrdoms. In the event of war with Great Britain 
 these islands would fall an easy prey to British and Can- 
 adian cruisers, and would also afford convenient skulking 
 places for spies and plotters. Already have they be- 
 come historic, not only as the scene of Perry's victory 
 in I Si 3, but also as the hatching ground of plots and 
 conspiracies during the war of the rebellion. 
 
 Old residents of Put-in-Bay and neighbaring isles 
 still take interest in an occasional review of remin- 
 iscences connected with the notable conspiracy of John 
 Yates Beale and his abettors in 1864, the object of 
 which was the liberation of rebel oflicers — 3,000 in 
 number — confined as prisoners on Johnson's Island; 
 the rading and capture of oandusky and other lake 
 towns, and the devastation of Northern Ohio by armed 
 Confederates and their allies. The plot, its attemped 
 fulfillment, its timely discovery and subsequent failure, 
 
 ili'ii' 
 
A NOTABLE COXSPIRACY. 
 
 60 
 
 :y. 
 
 id Queen. 
 
 le of two 
 I to figure 
 ■y, and in 
 e the cas- 
 ned Rhine 
 ntries and 
 eat Britain 
 1 and Can- 
 It skulking 
 e they be- 
 ^''s victory 
 plots and 
 
 oring isles 
 of remin- 
 cy of John 
 object of 
 -3,000 in 
 's Island; 
 ther lake 
 by armed 
 attemped 
 -nt failure, 
 
 are facts of historic record, a reiteration of which is 
 not the object of the following narration, excepting so 
 far as concerns their bearing on local incidents and 
 reminiscence. From a local point of view, therefore, 
 the event will here be considered, thus perhaps bring- 
 ing to light matter of interest which has escaped the 
 general delineator of history. 
 
 Wry quit't for a summer resort was Put- in- Bay at 
 the time of which we write — a fact due in part to the 
 lateness of tlu^ season and consequent withdrawal of 
 summer gut'sts, and partly to a deficit in the island's 
 male population occasirined by the absence of a lai ge 
 proportion of able-bodied men, then doing duty in the 
 ranks of the Union army on Southern soil. 
 
 September 19th, 1864, dawned serenely over 
 stretches of purpling vineyard and orchards full 
 fruited. Old men and boys, women and children were 
 early at their work gathering the luscious clusters and 
 heaping the measure with orchard fruits. 
 
 The morning steamer cleared from the wharves on 
 her usual daily trip to Sandusky, and no suspicion of 
 brooding danger threatening the peace of island homes 
 or that of the nation entered the minds of island 
 dwellers. True, there had been reported among 
 visitors to the place, a few days before, individuals 
 who had acted strangely and said some queer things 
 concerning the war, its prospects and the relations of 
 North and South, hmting darkly of what 'might' 
 happen. These individuals were spotted as 'rebel 
 sympathizers,' if not as genuine rebels. No special 
 importance was attached to the circumstance of their 
 presence on the island, however, until afterwards. 
 
70 
 
 A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 W V 
 
 M \\l 
 
 !!|il- 
 
 Late in the afternoon of the day above specified, 
 the steamer Phiio Parsons, of the Detroit, Island & 
 SanduL-ky line, landed at Wehrle's dock. Middle 
 Bass, distant a mile or so from the "Bay." At the 
 latter place the usual crowd of interested parties and 
 dock loungers awaited the steamer's arrival, but as 
 she showed no signs of putting off from Middle Bass 
 some debate as to the cause of her aetention was ex- 
 cited. A little later the steamer Island Queen, which 
 had left Put-in-Bcjy in the morning, was seen thread- 
 ing her way through the channel to Wehrle's, and 
 soon the two steamers lay side by side. 
 
 Darkness fell and the crowd on the docks at Put- 
 in-Ba}?^ increased. Both the Philo Parsons and Island 
 Queen were expected to touch, one on her way to De- 
 troit, the other bound for Toledo. Both were long 
 overdu'". No telephone or telegraph cable connected 
 the islands as now, and no messages could be ex- 
 changed. It was proposed to send a boat across with 
 a committee of investigation, but nobody volunteered 
 to go. Some were awaiting expected friends, others 
 the evening mail or parcels from the city. Weary of 
 delay, the less curious and anxious of the crowd 
 finally dispersed to their homes and turned in for the 
 night. Scarcely had they closed their eyes in slumber, 
 however, when each in turn was startled by a 
 thundering knock at his door. 
 
 To the query: "Who's there, and what's 
 wanted?" came the astounding reply: 
 
 "Get up ! The steamers Island Queen and Philo 
 Parsons are in the hands of the rebels ! Secrete your 
 money and valuables, and if you have any fire arms 
 
A NOTAnLE COXSPIRACV. 
 
 Decified, 
 sland & 
 
 Middle 
 
 At the 
 ties and 
 I, but as 
 ile Bass 
 
 was ex- 
 n, which 
 i thread- 
 le's, and 
 
 s at Put- 
 nd Island 
 ly to De- 
 ^ere long 
 ponnected 
 d be ex- 
 ross with 
 (lunteered 
 is, others 
 Weary of 
 he crowd 
 
 in for the 
 slumber, 
 
 ed by a 
 
 what's 
 
 land Philo 
 :rete your 
 fire arms 
 
 or ammunition in the house, *^el them together and 
 hurry to the Bay." 
 
 From house to house swiftly sped the mesfcenger, 
 and silently stealing through th*; night from every part of 
 the i>iand flitting shadows might have been seen of 
 men and often of women and children with frightened 
 f.icts all hurr^'ing toward the bay center. The news 
 which had thus aroused the island fron^ i:4-inter to cir- 
 tunifereTice was communicated by Capt. George 
 Magle, a passenger of the Island Queen, who, under 
 cover of darkness had crossed from Mid-die Bass. 
 Capt. Magle stated that a large force of men, armed 
 to tlie leeth, had taken possession of botfi steamers, 
 and that the oflicers, c?-ew and passengers were held 
 as prisoners, though the latter were finally allowed to 
 go ashore at Middle Bass, after a promise had been 
 exacted from each to divulge nothing concerning the 
 occurrence for twenty-four hours — a promise which 
 in numerous instances was quickly broken. 
 
 Certain of the passengers had gathered from 
 words let fall by the conspirators, that their object 
 was the capture of the United States gunboat Mich- 
 igan, then lying in S^mdusk}' Bay, and the liberation 
 of the prisoners on Johnson's Island. These move- 
 ments, tojrether with the uncertainty of their results, 
 tilled with forebodiiiir the minds of island dwellers. 
 l>y comn::on impulse, people gathered to the Bay from 
 Middle Bass and Isle St. George, and excitement 
 knew no bounds. 
 
 A military company was hastily organized, and 
 Capt. John Brown, jr., son of old John Brown, of Har- 
 per's Ferry fame, who resided on the island, was chosen 
 
f 
 
 72 
 
 A NO I ABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 I 
 
 Iji 
 
 m 
 
 IS; 
 
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 its commander, and every available man was enrolled 
 withm its ranks. The members of this brigade were 
 
 variously a c c o u- 
 te red. Captain 
 Br o w n possessed 
 in his own rioht 
 quite an arsenal of 
 weapons, some of 
 which had been 
 u-;ed by his fathei 
 and other members 
 of the lirovvn fam- 
 ily in their raids 
 and sk i rm i she s. 
 These were dis- 
 tributed a m on g 
 the men, together 
 with a nondescript 
 assortment of 
 muskets, breech- 
 loading r i fl e s , 
 
 U. S. GUNBOAT MICHIGAN, Geo, Kerry. Springfield rifleS, 
 
 shot guns, revolvers and horse pistols. 
 
 The old "Perry victory" cannon — which ever 
 since the war of 1812 had kept watch and ward over 
 the island — was wheeled into position, commanding 
 the wharves and heavily charged with powder, gravel 
 and old iron. 
 
 Meantime wagons were driving about like "Jehu," 
 conveying goods from stores and private dwellings to 
 the thick woodlands of the west shore, where they 
 were secreted. Old stumps and hollow logs were 
 
 Hi 
 
A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 73 
 
 IS enrolled 
 gade were 
 V a c c o u- 
 Captain 
 possessed 
 own right 
 J arsenal of 
 s, some of 
 had been 
 ,• his father 
 er members 
 irovvn fam- 
 their raids 
 i rm i she s. 
 vvt're dis- 
 id among 
 ;n, together 
 nondescript 
 t m e n t of 
 s, breech- 
 1 (T r i fl e s . 
 field rifles, 
 
 'hich ever 
 
 ward over 
 
 >mmanding 
 
 ?der, gravel 
 
 lilve "Jehu," 
 [vvellings to 
 here they 
 logs were 
 
 ■ 
 
 Utilized as banks of deposit for money, jewels and val- 
 uables of all sorts, wliile the numerous caves which 
 perforate the island's sub-strata of limestone afforded 
 refu^i'e for the vveal<-kneed and faint of heart. Into 
 these retreats, it is said, crowded the "Copperheads" 
 as the soutliern sympathizers were then called — and 
 so demoralized with fright were they, it is averred, 
 that the}' did not emerge for three days. 
 
 To the inhabitants of Put-in-Bay the night which 
 followed the fh-st news of the plot was fraught with 
 ill! the tragedy of war. The air was filled with flying 
 and exaggerated rumors; the suspense was painfui; 
 women grew nervous with apprehension and no 
 thought of sleep was entertained. 
 
 As soon as practicable, news of the capture was 
 sent to the commanding oflicer of the guard on John- 
 son's island — a deputation selected for the purpose 
 bearing; ihe message and proceeding by boat across to 
 the peninsula, and thence to the island lying just be- 
 yond in Sandusky Bay. 
 
 During the time that Put-in-Bay was under arms, 
 two alarms were reported. The first occurred at the 
 old "South dock." In the distribution of guards, two 
 men had been picketed at that place. One was armed 
 with a rifle, the othe*- brandished an old musket. The 
 men had been lying under a tree, when they per- 
 ceived a squad of men approaching. One of the 
 guards grew alarmed and wanted to run, but was 
 rallied b}' his comrade. Together they faced the 
 marauders, and in true military style demanded the 
 countersign. The strangers couldn't give the coun- 
 tersign, but the spokesman of the party reported as 
 
74 
 
 A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 
 f it 
 
 captain of a small trading vessel anchored off shore, 
 accompanied by his crew, and the new-comers were 
 allowed to pass without molestation. 
 
 The second alarm occurred in the early dawn of 
 morning, when a vessel entered the bay and cast 
 anchor under the shadow of Gibraltar Island. Imagi- 
 nation had played wild pranks during the night, and 
 become highly wrought. By its aid in the dim, uncer- 
 tain light, the strange craft was readily resolved into a 
 piratical cruiser upon evil intent. The shore battery 
 was brought to bear upon her, and other prepnrations 
 made for a gallant defense. The guards felt shaky, 
 but anxious to ascertain the intruder's designs, a boat 
 was manned and sent out to hail hei . The first coun- 
 tenance that appeared over the "cruiser's" railing as 
 they approached was that of a well known sailor and 
 fisherman — Meachem bv name — a resident of the is- 
 land. By this sign they knew that their fears were 
 groundless, and that the vessel was an unoffending fre- 
 quenter of the island waters. 
 
 Wiih the approach of day, all eyes were turned 
 expectantly in the direction of Johnson's Island and 
 Sandusky, and at 6 a. m. a report gained circulation 
 that during the night the steamer Parsons had been 
 sighted heading for the Detroit river; and from the 
 way that her chimneys threw smoke it was evident 
 that steam was being crowded. From this circum- 
 stance the islanders judged that the plot had failed, and 
 the conspirators were trying to make good their escape. 
 
 The island military now grew very brave, and dis- 
 banding, went home to breakfast, which was dis- 
 patched with a relish. Later in the day a tug arrived 
 
td off shore, 
 -comers vere 
 
 arly dawn of 
 rdy and cast 
 and. Imagi- 
 le night, and 
 le dim, uncer- 
 esolved into a 
 shore battery 
 • preparations 
 ds felt shaky, 
 isigns, a boat 
 'he first coun- 
 's" raiHng as 
 vvn sailor and 
 ent of the is- 
 lir fears were 
 loffending fre- 
 
 were turned 
 I's Island and 
 ed circulation 
 ions had been 
 and from the 
 t was evident 
 I this circum- 
 had failed, and 
 d their escape. 
 Drave, and dis- 
 lich was dis- 
 r a tug arrived 
 
Ci 
 
 H 
 
 lU 
 
A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 75 
 
 o 
 
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 ll.' 
 
 X 
 
 I- 
 
 es 
 z 
 £ 
 
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 X 
 
 from Sandusky, bringing definite news of the plot and 
 its failure, and bearing dispatches stating that the 
 ollicers of the Island Queen, who had been carried 
 away as prisoners on the Parsons, were safe landed 
 and on their way home. 
 
 Concerning the capture of the boats, Capt. Geo. W. 
 (Jrr, master of the Island Queen, tells an interesting 
 story. Captain Orr is now a man of about eighty 
 years, though apparently younger, and still exhibits 
 the nre and energy which characterized his spirited re- 
 sistance of his captors, to whom at the muzzle of a 
 revolver he was forced to yield. Captain Orr is a 
 summer resident of Put-in-Iiay at *the present time, 
 owning and occupying with his family a pretty cottage 
 environed with shrubbery, orchard and vineyard. 
 Following is his account, as furnished the writer : 
 
 "I had no personal knowledge of the capture ot the 
 steamer Philo Parsons by the same men a few hours 
 before the taking of the Queen, but according to the 
 statement made me by Captain Atwood, master of the 
 Parsons, the latter left Detroit on the morning of 
 September 19th. On her way down she stopped at 
 Sandwich, on the Canadian side, when some ten or 
 twelve men got on board as passengers for Sandusky. 
 Leaving there she touched at Amherstburg on the 
 same side, and there twelve or fifteen more men got on 
 hoard, also as passengers for Sandusky. Amongst the 
 baggage here taken on w^as a large, old fashioned 
 trunk covered with sole leather, which afterwards 
 proved to contain a quantity of revolvers, hatchets, 
 pistols and bowie knives. Leaving Amherstburg the 
 steamer came direct to Put-in-Bay, then to Middle 
 
1 
 
 I I I 
 
 ■i/ ' I 
 
 ■r i .1. 
 
 76 
 
 A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 Bass, wliore Captain Alvvood <rot off, leaving the boat 
 in char<re of the mate, his son-in-hiw. Continuing the 
 trip to Sandusky, the Parsons stopped at Kelley's 
 Island. Leaving Kelley's she had got about three- 
 fourths of the distance between that place and Cedar 
 Point when the men who came as passengers from 
 Canada opened the leather trunk and arming them- 
 seh^es at once took possession of the steamer, made 
 prisoners of the crew, and compelled them to navigate 
 the boat as their captors directed. Under their orders 
 the Parsons passed into Sandusky bay a little beyond 
 Cedar Point to where a fair view could be had of 
 Johnson's Island. • A short stoppage was made, then 
 without proceeding further, for some reason, they put 
 about, and returned to Middle Bass. Before reaching 
 there they threw overboard several tons of pig iron 
 which had been consigned to Sandusky. At Middle 
 Bass, when wooding, the steamer Island Queen came 
 alongside on her way from Sandusky to Put-in-Bay 
 and Toledo. Forty or fifty soldiers — loo day men — 
 who were going to Toledo to be mustered out, were 
 on board the Queen, together with a large number of 
 island people, making nearly lOO passengers. Here 
 the Queen was taken possession of by the armed con- 
 spirators, who leaped aboard from the Parson's upper 
 decks. The men comprising crew and passengers of 
 the Queen were compelled to go into the Parson's 
 hold, while the ladies and children were all ordered 
 into her upper cabins. 
 
 Engineer Henry Haines was ordered out of the 
 engine room, and told that if he did not ccme they 
 would shoot him. He refused and they shot him in 
 
A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 • the boat 
 nuing the 
 : Kelley's 
 )ut three- 
 nd Cedar 
 irers from 
 ing ihem- 
 ner, made 
 o navigate 
 leir orders 
 tie beyond 
 be had of 
 lade, then 
 1, they put 
 e reaching 
 pf pig iron 
 At Middle 
 ueen came 
 ut-in-Bay 
 ay men — 
 out, were 
 number of 
 rs. Here 
 lirmed con- 
 lOn's upper 
 sengers of 
 Parson's 
 ,11 ordered 
 
 )ut of the 
 
 Iccne they 
 
 lot him in 
 
 the face, causing a flesli wound and filling his face with 
 
 powder. 
 
 A few minutes later I was ordered up from the 
 
 hold and taken on board the Queen, where the leader 
 
 of tlie 'ifang demanded the boat's papers. 
 
 'Whotn am I giving them to?" I enquired. 
 
 "1 am Lieutenant Beale of the Confederate Navv\" 
 
 "What do \'0u want with the papers.'"' 
 
 "We want to send them as trophies to Jeff Davis." 
 
 "You can't run the boat without the papers," I 
 
 then said. 
 
 "The boat isn't going to run much longer," was 
 
 the reply. 
 
 "I told him that the papers were in the office, 
 which, when we reached, we found had been broken 
 open, the papers scattered about the floor and the 
 monev drawer rifled." 
 
 "1 asked him what he was going to do with the 
 women and children who were up in the Parsons 
 cabin. He said that they would be put ashore on 
 Middle Bass, and that he should require of them an 
 obligation not to divulge anything in regard to the 
 matter for twenty-four hours. I told him that I had 
 three children in the cabin, that I knew most of the 
 others, and would like to go up and see them, and he 
 went with me. 
 
 " He then placed the clerk, William Hamilton, En- 
 gineer Haint^s and myself under guard, and calling 
 together all the prisoners, made them promise to say 
 nothing of the affair until after the time specified. I 
 wanted to go ashore with the others, but the guard 
 would not let me off. 
 
m 
 
 18 
 
 A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 l\V:\f\\ 
 
 Ws 
 
 ' 
 
 iiiii':ii|:!J 
 
 " The leader then ordered the Parsons to get under 
 way the Queen lashed to her side. When about half 
 a mile southeast of Ballast island the boats came to a 
 stop. Lieut. Beale th^-:n ordered the Queen's 3'awl- 
 boat lowered and taken in charj^e of the Parsons; this 
 done, he ordered the former scuttled. 
 
 "I asked permission to ^o and get the Queen's 
 books, as they would be of use to tiie owners. 
 
 '^ 'The books are all right where tliey are,' was the 
 reply. 
 
 "'They are going to destroy the l)i),it,' I insisted 
 " 'I guess not,' answered the guatd. 
 *' A man then caine up out of the hold and said that 
 he had cut the steamtr's feed pipe, and that the water 
 was coming in fast. Then they cast off her lines and 
 let her go adrift in the darkness, and the l*arsons was 
 headed for Sandusky. When within a mile of the 
 outside channel buoy, at the mouth of the bay, we 
 hove to. I was called out of the cabin, and Lieut. 
 Beale asked me whether 1 had heard of any report 
 that a raid from Canada was going to be made on 
 Johnson's Island. I told him I had not. 
 
 "it was then about 10 p. m. The U. S. gunboat 
 Michigan lay off Johnson's Island, her black hull gloom- 
 ing through the night. The plotters were awaiting 
 signals evidently which failed to appear. Three or 
 four of the leaders went aside and held a consultation, 
 and I overheard Lieut. Beale say to the men: 
 
 " 'I have a notion to make the attempt, anyhow.' 
 "They waited about a half an hour longer, and 
 then headed back up the lake, and the Parsons was 
 put under crowded steam. There were lots of old 
 
 I! I 
 
A NOTABLE CO.\S/'fRACV. 
 
 70 
 
 t under 
 )ut half 
 le to a 
 ; yawl- 
 is; this 
 
 Liueen's 
 
 was the 
 
 >isle(l 
 
 said that 
 le water 
 lines and 
 >?ons was 
 of the 
 bay, we 
 Lieut, 
 y report 
 made on 
 
 gunboat 
 I gloom- 
 awaiting 
 'hree or 
 sultation, 
 
 y* 
 
 how.' 
 ger, and 
 sons was 
 ts of old 
 
 coal oil barrels aboard, and the boiler was kept in a 
 tremendous heal. Tlu* first halt was made in the 
 Detroit river just abovf Amherstburg; off that place 
 a numbtr (jf men got into the Queen's yawl and went 
 ashore. The next stop was madr about daylight at 
 "pi'diting Island, ' a inarshv strip of land .d)Out four 
 or li\ ■ miles long, uiiinhabilcd at the lime. Tiiere they 
 put us ,1-^ho.e. 
 
 STEAMER ISLAND QUEEN. ^ 
 
 "I told them we had rather be landed on the main 
 shore. They said the}' had rather we wouldn't." 
 
 "Leaving us, they continued on up the river to 
 Sandwich, where, after removing the piano and other 
 valuables, the Parsons was set adrift, but was afterward 
 picked up by a tug. The raiders then scattered into 
 Canada as fast as possible. 
 
 "Hamilton, Ilaines, and myself remained on Fight- 
 ing Island about two hours, when a fisherman passed 
 

 V^^'^V'^o. 
 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 
 
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 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corfwration 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) •72-4503 
 

 ^ 
 
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 80 
 
 A XOTABLE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 t 
 
 in a boat. We signaled him in, and got him to set us 
 across u|)on the American side, where we took the cars 
 for Sandusky, going by tlie way of Monroeville, at 
 which phice I learned on arriving thit the Island Queen 
 had grounded upon 'Chickanola reef.' I at once tele- 
 graphed to Detroit for a tug and steam pump. 
 
 "When we reached Sandusky, we found the place 
 wild with excitement. While waiting there, I had a 
 plug made three feet long, four inches in diameter, and 
 tapering to a point. Next morning we boarded the 
 tug Louise and started for *Chickanola' reef, where we 
 found the Queen sunk in ah ut ten feet of water, which 
 just covered her lower decks. Mad the steamer gone 
 down in deep water her whereabouts would never 
 have been known. The tug and pump arrived from 
 Detroit, and at once they began to lower the water. 
 When loA' enough so that I could get under the deck, 
 I went with the plug — knowing just where to find the 
 pipe — and driving it in, stopped the leak. After that 
 we soon had her pumped out and towed to Kelley 
 Island, and none too soon, for in an hour after reach- 
 ing there it began blowing a living gale from the 
 west." 
 
 As described by Capt. Orr, John Yates Beale — 
 who was afterward captured at Toronto, sentenced 
 and shot as a spy on Governor's Island, New York — 
 was a youth of courageous and courteous bearing, 
 aged at the time of his execution twenty-two years. 
 
 A piece of paper — accidentally or intentionally drop- 
 ped — containing plans of the conspirators, putting on 
 their guard the officers of the gunboat Michigan and 
 the guards at Johnson's Island, were the agencies, it 
 
set us 
 le cars 
 ille, at 
 Queen 
 e tele- 
 
 e place 
 
 had a 
 er, and 
 led the 
 lere we 
 , which 
 ir gone 
 i never 
 :d from 
 : water, 
 le deck, 
 find the 
 
 er that 
 Kelley 
 reach- 
 
 om the 
 
 ieale — ■ 
 ntenced 
 York— 
 learing, 
 tars, 
 ly drop- 
 itting on 
 Tan and 
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 CAPT. GEO. W ORR, of Steamer Island Queen, 
 
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A NOTABLE CONSPIRACY. gj 
 
 i.s said, which arrested in its incipient stages and 
 frustrated one of the deepest-laid plots of ,te civil 
 war- a plot, the success of which would undoubt- 
 c.ll>- have caused de^•astation to Northern homes, and 
 turned perhaps the chances of war in favor o the 
 Southern Confederacy. 
 
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SUMMERTIME SAUNTERINGS 
 
 Among: Island Resorts. 
 
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 EXCUSIONISTS ARRIVING. 
 
 Photo by ijco. Kerry. 
 
 As viewed during the guest and excursion season, 
 a livelier place would be hard to find than the little 
 center locally and generally known as the " Bay,*' 
 which, notwithstanding its original incorporation as 
 "Put-in-Bay village," is never so called excepting in 
 connection with matters legal or municipal. 
 
 At the '' Bay," on almost any day of the seven, 
 are vividly presented panoramic views of life as it ap- 
 pears at a summer resort — interesting alike to lovers 
 of gaiety, to sight-seekers, to observers of fashion's 
 fads, and to philosophical students of human nature. 
 
 : I:, 
 
^Mf 
 
 _^^,£srf! 
 
 *' « 
 
 
 
 Ion season, 
 the little 
 le "Bay," 
 loration as 
 cepting in 
 
 |the seven, 
 Ee as it ap- 
 
 to lovers 
 If fashion's 
 
 nature. 
 
 iEM3 
 
 
 'if'. 
 
 A BIRDSEYE VIEW. 
 
 i| 
 
:$ 
 
SUMMERTIME SAUNTERINGS. 88 
 
 The simultaneous arrival from the big cities of the 
 lartje excursion steamers, representing he D. & C. 
 and C. & B. lines, furnishes occasion for an animated 
 scene. The gigantic black hulls of each, from lower 
 to hurricane decks, swarm with passengers, and the 
 mingling streams of humanity w hich pour upon the piers 
 
 EXCURSIONISTS DEPARTING. Photo by Geo. Kerry 
 
 from respective cities, the waiting throng of interested 
 spectators, the flutter of flags and handkerchiefs, the 
 flash of bright badges and gilded uniforms, the shouts 
 and hurrahs, mingled with the vociferations of hotel 
 criers, seen and heard amidst a flourish of whistles, 
 bursts of band music, and pouring clouds of smoke 
 from the great steamers, combine to form a Bedlamic, 
 yet inspiriting spectacle. The onsurging crowds set 
 the observer thinking, and Tennyson's "Brook" and 
 the stream of humanity get confusedly jumbled. 
 
 
II B 
 
 84 SUMMERTIME SAUNTERINGS. 
 
 ., ' t , "For men may come, and men may go, 
 
 But I go on forever." 
 
 The song sings itself over and over, until you hardly 
 know whether it is the brook or the people that go on 
 in such an unending babble and rush. 
 
 Hailing as do these excursions from various por- 
 tions of the country, each representative party has its 
 special characteristics, its peculiarities of dress, man- 
 ners and general make up. Cleveland and Detroit 
 crowds, for instance, bear with them an atmosphere 
 redolent of teeming streets and busy marts; of dim 
 courts and gilded palaces. Blank, blase^ individuals; 
 women with inartistic touches of powder on their 
 cheeks, and a proclivity for loudness; merchants, office 
 clerks, and salesmen; mechanics and artisans, and the 
 representatives of organizations civic, military, social, 
 and religious, are a part of the big city excursion — for 
 a glance over the throng reveals unmistakably the half- 
 concealed secret of individual character, origin, oc- 
 cupation, and belonging. 
 
 In excursions from the extensive farming districts 
 of Ohio and Michigan figures conspicuously the knight 
 of the plow and pruning hook. Bronzed hands and a 
 countenance ruddy and honest are his. Hints of live 
 stock, of stables and country mud may be gathered 
 from his appearance. There is a lingering suspicion of 
 hayseed upon his coat collar, and a suggestion of horse 
 hair clings to his Kentucky jeans. At his side, in 
 fluffy lawn and bright-ribboned hat, appears the rustic 
 belle, with eyes like dew spangles, cheeks that suggest 
 the pinks and peonies of country gardens, and an 
 atmosphere about her of shyness and sweet simplicity 
 born of country seclusion. 
 
go. 
 
 il you hardly 
 i that go on 
 
 various por- 
 party has its 
 dress, man- 
 and Detroit 
 atmosphere 
 irts; of dim 
 , individuals; 
 ler on their 
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 ms, and the 
 tary, social, 
 cursion — for 
 bly the half- 
 origin, oc- 
 
 ing districts 
 y the knight 
 bands and a 
 lints of live 
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 suspicion of 
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 his side, in 
 *s the rustic 
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 ins, and an 
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SUMMERTIXfE SA UXTE RINGS. 
 
 65 
 
 Arriviils from tlie Dominion of her Majesty, Queen 
 Victoria, across the lake, are occasional. The "Ka- 
 niu ks" have a style of their own. While not exactly 
 foreign in appearance, their manners and speech are 
 somewhat Frenchilied, and they are generally distin- 
 ouishable from citizens of Uncle Sam's territorial 
 limits. 
 
 STEAMER ARROW. 
 
 Excursions from central and southern Ohio, Ken- 
 tucky and points south arrive via Toledo and Port 
 Clinton steamers, by the Frank E. Kirby, or by the Ar- 
 row from Sandusky. Figuring distinctively as the 
 island steamer, the Arrow is an especial favorite. The 
 islanders particularly dote upon her and with reason, 
 since she is a model of beauty and strength, and a tri- 
 umph of marine architecture. She is built for speed, 
 and glides with yacht-like grace. Her cabins are 
 finished in mahogany, artistically decorated with paint- 
 ings, frescoes and gildings, and luxuriously furnished. 
 
86 
 
 SUMMERTIME SAUNTEUINGS. 
 
 M I 
 
 ■Mil 
 
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 ^•*9im The steamer Kirby, known 
 as "the flyer of the lakes," 
 operating on the Detroit, Isl- 
 and and Sandusky line, is 
 also magnificently appointed, 
 and is highly favored of the 
 island people and traveling 
 public generally. Her fleet- 
 ness makes her true to the 
 popular title the puVjlic has 
 given her. 
 
 Whether as season guests 
 or as sojourners for a week, 
 or only for a day, summer 
 visitors all come for pleasure, 
 and many are fortunate in 
 finding this widely sought 
 treasure. The observer 
 nevertheless wonders wheth- 
 er all the apparent mirth and 
 gaiety are real, or only as- 
 sumed for the purpose of dis- 
 guising inward grief and 
 corroding care. 
 On a corner poses a sad-faced man. Above him a 
 suspended card bears the words: "Who will help the 
 blind ?" He has manipulated the keys of an accordeon 
 until tired of his own melodies, and now listens atten- 
 tively to other sounds which tell of a busy world that 
 he cannot see, while with head inclined he analyzes 
 them as they strike his w^.r — the hearty guffaw, the 
 gay repartee, the rumble of passing hacks, and the 
 
 STEAMER FRANK E. KIRBY > 
 
 i'M 
 
SUMMERTIME SA UNTE RINGS. 
 
 87 
 
 buzz of the "merry-go-round." A lady bends over 
 him with a kindly word. A pleased expression illu- 
 mines the blind man's countenance, and we wonder 
 that anything so akin to light as a smile could animate 
 a gloom so settled. The lady drops into his hand a 
 dime, and receives a little yellow book, entitled "The 
 Blind Man's Robbery," detailing some adventures of 
 
 feiliSL^'t • '^' 
 
 "TO THE CAVE." 
 
 the vender's life. Even here among the pleasure 
 seekers we find them — *'the lame, the halt, and the 
 blind." They give no sign, but as they pass you can 
 read their unspoken history. 
 
 Along the crowded thoroughfares, and among 
 groups of park picnickers, an ItaHan laden with toy 
 balloons and brilHant-dyed Pampas plumes hawks his 
 wares, and a Jap, esconsed with Oriental merchandise 
 in a way-side booth attracts a share of attention. 
 
 
'I'iMil! 
 
 88 
 
 SUMMERTIME SAUNTERINGS. 
 
 The man with the camera presides in his tented 
 studio and smiles a welcome upon the spoony young 
 couples and newly made mashes that wait upon him, 
 eager to be tin-typed together. In response to "a 
 nickel in the slot," Edison's automatic phonograph 
 reels off some touching performances. Nor is there 
 lacking the professor of ps} chulogical mysteries who 
 for. a consideration lifts the veil of futurity and reveals 
 to anticipative youth approaching successes in love and 
 matrimony. Rows of wry-faced rag babies wait to be 
 knocked from their perches by successful cracksmen; 
 
 and the "wild man of Borneo" sits grinning in his 
 cage. 
 
 To the museum threads a numerous crowd, some to 
 see the large and diversified collection there displayed, 
 others to sample the "bottled goods" on exhibit. 
 Curio lovers experience also a drawing toward the 
 out-of-door novelty stands laden with exquisitely tinted 
 shells and corals, island specimens, birchen canoes 
 and articles of Indian manufacture, together with 
 glass and chinaware, artistically decorated with pic- 
 tured scenes from Perry's victory. Souvenirs and 
 novel bric-a-brac, such as toy alligators carven from 
 alligator's teeth, shell necklaces and brooches of agate, 
 moonstone, "catseye'* pearl and scarlet sea beans. 
 Delicate fancies and pretty trifles of every description 
 are here seen, and any desired novelty may be pro- 
 cured, from a wire and worsted rooster, all complete 
 except the crow, to a patent squawker. Street-side 
 soda fountains beguile and ice creams and lemonades 
 are plentiful. Stands freighted with ham and cheese 
 sandwiches, fresh pastry and confections, offer seduc- 
 
■s. 
 
 in his tented 
 )oony young 
 it upon him, 
 ponse to "a 
 phonograph 
 Nor is there 
 ysteries who 
 and reveals 
 es in love and 
 es wait to be 
 I cracksmen; 
 
 nning in his 
 
 owd, some to 
 re displayed; 
 on exhibit, 
 toward the 
 lisitely tinted 
 chen canoes 
 )gether with 
 ed with pic- 
 Duvenirs and 
 carven from 
 ;hes of agate, 
 : sea beans. 
 y description 
 may be pro- 
 all complete 
 Street-side 
 id lemonades 
 n and cheese 
 offer seduc- 
 
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 live delights, and the Bay restaurants are crowded oft 
 10 an overflow by hungry excursionists. 
 
 The attractive grounds and breezy verandahs of 
 the lieebe House, Put-in- Bay and other hotels are filled 
 with guests, and strolling about the grove and along 
 the shore, drifting idly in gayly decked pleasure boats? 
 lingering over wine and card tables, one may see the 
 
 VIEW ON THE ELECTRIC ROAD. 
 
 votaries of pleasure flitting about like bevies of summer 
 butterflies. Yachting, camping and canoeing suits of 
 taking designs appear on the promenades and filmy 
 laces float by, with jewel flashes and a shimmer 
 of satin. Glimpses of rose and violet, embroideries of 
 gold and tracings of silver appear and disappear like 
 visions of fairy land. 
 
 Flirting is freely indulged and mashers of both sexes 
 go about seeking whom they may entangle. Hotel 
 orchestras fill the air with music and waltzers gather 
 
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 90 
 
 SUMMERTIME SA C/NTE RINGS. 
 
 in hotel parlors or on open air platforms to join in the 
 mazy whirl, 
 
 A ride over the electric railway to Victory Park 
 and a visit to Hotel Victory on the west shore, are 
 treats which no excursionist can afford to lose, even 
 though his stay on the island be limited to two or three 
 hours, and the cars going thither are frequently over- 
 crowded. Midway on the electric line in the edge of 
 a little grove where the cars pass each other, is located 
 a little station house at which passengers for "Perry's 
 Cave" alight. Perry's Cave is the property of Geo. 
 E. Gascoyne. As a natural curiosity it is widely 
 famed, and is annually visited by thousands of people. 
 "Crystal Cave" recently opened is also attracting much 
 attention. 
 
 Ferry line steamers connecting hourly with the 
 Middle Bass club house and grounds, "Wehrle's 
 Landing," and Ballast Island afford opportunities for 
 delightful excursions. A trip to Kelley's Island, clas- 
 sic Lakeside or a yachting cruise to the "Hen and 
 Chickens," the "Sisters," or to other outlying islands 
 of the archipellachian group — when the day is fav- 
 orable and the breeze propitious — are experiences 
 fraught with pleasurable adventure. 
 
 Visits to the United States Fish Hatchery on 
 "Peach" Point, and to the government Hghthouse 
 station on "Parker's Point" are included among island 
 attractions. 
 
 On afternoons when the mercury crowds close 
 upon 90 and the air quivers with heat, the bathing 
 beach affords a larger amount of live amusement, 
 probably, than any other specialty. Heading toward 
 
SUMMERTIME SAUNTERINGS. 
 
 91 
 
 PUT-IN-BAY LIGHT HOUSE. 
 
 this Mecca of aqueous delights on such afternoons, 
 may be observed a gay procession formed of hotel 
 guests and excursionists. In the throng appear coupled 
 youths and maidens, buxom matrons and j[)ater famih'es 
 of portly presence. There are romping misses and 
 children with sand pails and carriages; pugs with the 
 most approved wrinkle of nose and curl of tail, and 
 canine pets of every degree, silver collared and 
 ribboned. 
 
 The bathing beach is a semi-circle of sand, bor- 
 dered with clumps of willow and basswood. Its wide 
 
 
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 SUMMERTIME SA UXTERLXGS. 
 
 reaches are strewn with wrecknp;e and afford a lovely 
 outlook toward Kelley island and the peninsula. 
 
 Two rival bathinjr establishments are here located. 
 The situations of both are delightfully cool and 
 breezy. Tree-sheltered porches and platforms are 
 
 crowded with 
 I amused specta- 
 tors, while the 
 water is full of 
 'Z^ friskv, flopping 
 
 
 
 
 mer m en and 
 maids in pictui- 
 esque attire. 
 The diving 
 platform and 
 the steam to- 
 boggan aie im- 
 portant ad- SCENES ON THE BATHING BEACH. Geo. Kerry, 
 
 juncts. Watching the antics of bathers forms a diver- 
 sion of which the spectator seldom tires. Swimming, 
 splashing and plunging are indulged, and screams and 
 laughter alternate, when a spanking breeze sends 
 tumbling ashore line after line of breakers. 
 
 Flirtations are carried on as successfully in the 
 water as upon land. Flirting is possible even on the 
 toboggan slide where patrons must hold their breath 
 to prevent losing it altogether. Descending with its 
 passengers, the toboggan increases in speed until 
 striking the water it rebounds, and leaping three or 
 
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 lit 
 
 PUT-IN- BAY DOCKS IN OTHER DAYS. 
 
 
 ( 
 
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 THE BATHING BEACH. 
 
 i- 
 
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SUMXfERrnTE SA UiXTERIXGS. 
 
 93 
 
 four times its length aj^ain strikes and glides away 
 amid spray showers, to stop when its momentum is 
 exhausted. 
 
 On the beach from time to time are seen many 
 well known and popular society women of our lake 
 and inland cities. Most of these fair patrons provide 
 pretty and expensive bathin<( suits of their own, and 
 wear them as gracefully as nymphs. 
 
 Such, in sunny summer time, is life at gay, giddy 
 Put-in- Bay. 
 
 
 W\ 
 
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 .CI, 
 
 HOTEL VICTORY. 
 
 BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF HOTEL VICTORY. 
 
 A famed attraction of Put-in-Bay, toward which 
 visitors from all portions of the United States turn at- 
 tention, is Hotel Victory; and in contemplation of this 
 architectural marvel — its size, design and magnificence 
 — are they lost in wonder. 
 
 The hotel, w^hich is said to be the largest summer 
 hostelry in America, occupies the highest site of land 
 on the island overlooking Victory park and the 
 waters of Victory bay and commanding a scene of un- 
 rivalled beauty. 
 
 The main building is in the form of a square and is 600 
 feet long, by 300 feet deep ; the main portion surround- 
 ing a court 300 feet square. 
 
 On one side forming a wing and connected with 
 the main building by a lobby are the main dining hall, 
 
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 HOTEL VICTORY. 
 
 05 
 
 ordinary and kitchen, and back of these the servant's 
 quarters. 
 
 The main dining hall is 155 feet long, 85 feet wide 
 and 52 feet high, wide galleries encompassing the 
 entire hall. 
 
 The ordinary is 50x100 feet, and the combined 
 dining capacity, including private banqueting halls and 
 
 '^^ ' 1 
 
 i1 
 
 DISTANT VIEW OF THE VICTORY. 
 
 /'//i>. fi'id, Kerry. 
 
 children's and nurses' dining hall, is 1,200 guests at 
 one sitting. The guest chambers are 625 in number, 
 large, light, airy and elegantly furnished, including So 
 suites with briths. Every room fronts upon some 
 lake view or toward the interior court, rendered 
 charming with luxurious floral adornment, gravelled 
 walks and other attractions. 
 
 There are three elevators, bell boy stations on 
 every floor, electric call bells, 6,000 incandescent elec- 
 
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96 
 
 HOTEL VICTORY. 
 
 trie lights, steam heating throughout the entire struc- 
 ture, and the most modern equipped hotel kitchen, it is 
 said, in the world. 
 
 A ramble through the big hotel is almost equal to 
 that taken through a small town 
 
 FOX'S DOCK — Landing of 0. & C. Steamers and Steamer Metropolis. 
 
 Luxurious appointments are everywhere seen. 
 The parlors of the Victory are numerous. Showing 
 varied styles of furniture and embellishment, each a 
 model of elegance, comfort and luxury. Especially rich 
 in upholstering are the ladies' grand parlors. 
 
 The office, halls, lobbies and corridors are corres- 
 pondingly magnificent, and in extent the place seems 
 interminable, the combined length of the corridors 
 alone being one mile, all handsomely carpeted. 
 
 The main lobby — having a seating capacity of 
 I, GOO persons —is a favored resort for hotel visitors. 
 Here the orchestra daily and nightly assembles, and 
 
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HOTEL VICTORY. 
 
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 music, mirth and festivity rule the hour. However, 
 it is in the great ball room — by myriads of electric 
 li<rhts arcaded, and rendered brilliant as noonday — that 
 representatives of social gaieties are more frequently 
 found, joining in the grand promenade and mazy 
 whirl. 
 
 Others, again, seek the grand piazza, which extends 
 the whole length of the main structure, where by day, 
 or at night when illumined with electricity, is found a 
 breezy and most delightful place in which to doze and 
 dream, or to hold social converse. From this outlook 
 is afforded a scene upon which the eye may Hnger 
 long without becoming weary, so •charmingly pic- 
 turesque, so restful and delightful, its environments. 
 
 The grounds adjoining the hotel form a landscape 
 garden which nature and art combine to beautify. Pro- 
 fuse but tasteful and exquisite floral decorations appear. 
 Foliage plants and blooms of torrid richness blend 
 with paler hues; while climbing the white walls and 
 stone-pillared steps, masses of maderia, morning glory, 
 nasturtium and woodbine spread a mantle of blossom- 
 starred greenery. Care is taken to preserve natural 
 effects, and in the park, consisting of twenty-one acre s^ 
 extending to and along the shores of Victory bay, 
 revels a profusion of flowers, both wild and cultivated. 
 
 A rustic bridge of artistic design spans the park 
 ravine; rough ledges of lime rock outcrop, and hollow 
 stumps form receptacles for tender, blossoming plants 
 and vines. An electric fountain sends aloft its jetting 
 spray, and a cascaded board walk descends by gentle 
 slope to the shore five hundred feet distant. 
 
 The greatest charm of the park is its freedom, for 
 
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 98 
 
 HOTEL TICTORy. 
 
 the shore upon which it opens is as picturesque as ever 
 conspired to woo the lover of Nature. Masses of beet- 
 ling rock, of rock cleft and riven as by volcanic action, 
 gird its broken line, while in the caverns indenting their 
 
 ' . MERMAID'S CAVE, VICTORY. PARK. 
 
 base echoes the sound of waves. As if to screen their 
 roughness, vines and mosses cover and shrubbery and 
 cedar clumps edge and overdroop them. 
 
 Boat and bathing houses occupy an eligible site, 
 commanding a beach of smooth sand reached by a 
 * flight of steps. All the facilities for bathing are here 
 afforded. In addition to these, a newly constructed 
 Natatorium, or swimming pool, with canopied cover- 
 ing, wide platform, and comfortalle seats for specta- 
 
 
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 tors, is afforded. The place is lighted at night by 
 electricity. 
 
 The hotel is connected with the bay and boat land- 
 ings by the l*ut-in-Bay Electric Railway. 
 
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 TENT LIFE. 
 
 W. \ 
 
 TENT LIFE. 
 
 Midsummer, 
 such as envi- 
 rons the archi- 
 pelago with 
 balm and 
 beauty, rend- 
 ers life under 
 canvas half 
 dream, half 
 romance — so 
 say the many 
 who have test- 
 ed this happy- 
 go-lucky mode of existence and know its charms. 
 
 When vineyard and orchard lands are thrifty with 
 tender foliage and fair with promise, and every shore 
 stretch and creviced rock is exhuberant with wild 
 vegetation; then, too, the deep, cool shadow of grove 
 and forest belt invite the summer nomad, and tent and 
 pavilion whitens among the trees. 
 
 Reclining in a luxurious hammock among the 
 wood's arcaded aisles, gazing dreamily liipward through 
 its green net work into ethereal depths, watching airy 
 cloud temples and palaces adrift, or the shifting sails of 
 vessels afar on the blue lake ; listening to the notes of 
 birds, the chirp of crickets, the subdued splash of waves; 
 
ummer, 
 s envi- 
 i archi- 
 3 with 
 and 
 rend- 
 under 
 ; half 
 , half 
 ce — so 
 many 
 ^e test- 
 lappy- 
 s. 
 
 ' with 
 
 shore 
 
 wild 
 
 grove 
 
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 f the 
 rough 
 gairy 
 ails of 
 :es of 
 aves; 
 
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 TENT LIFE. 
 
 101 
 
 feeling the zephyr's breath soft upon the cheek, tis 
 heaven to swing and doze. 
 
 There is lots of romance, too, in a camp by moon- 
 light when a soft splendor bathes lake and land, and 
 silver pencils penetrate the dim forest. From out the 
 twinkling firmament the gazer may then single his star 
 of destiny, and the vocalist afloat upon the waters 
 pour forth his soul to the click of row-locks. All 
 this the average camper duly assimilates. 
 
 Life in camp brings the individual into close com- 
 munion with nature, enlarges his ideas and makes him 
 healthy and happy. Bugs, ants, spiders and ]une flies 
 dismay him not, and when fairly tilled up on poetry 
 and romance he may have recourse to other amuse- 
 ments, such as rowing, wrestling, bathing, foot-balling, 
 love-making and yarn spinning. That the crew of 
 every passing craft may know how extravagantly 
 happy he feels, the summer nomad explodes, by way of 
 salutation, gun powder and torpedoes in endless quan- 
 tities, and shouts himself hoarse, forcibly expressing 
 thereby his irrepressible jollity. 
 
 The denizens of summer camps hail mainly from 
 lake and inland town and city, and the change from 
 interminable walls and crowded streets with their in- 
 evitable heat, dust, dirt an.l discomfort, to the breezy 
 haunts of island shores is novel. 
 
 The first installment of campers puts in an appear- 
 ance about the latter part of June, others coming and 
 going from this date until the first of September. 
 Representing all classes, they arrive in parties of all 
 sizes. Romantic young couples sighing for "a lodge in 
 some vast wilderness," spend the honeymoon in tented 
 
 
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 102 
 
 TENT LIFE. 
 
 seclusion, and family parties are common. Cliques of 
 college students, sporting clubs, social clubs and clubs 
 of divers sorts variously costumed and equipped are 
 numerous, and military organizations occasional. Each 
 encarnpment is rendered conspicuous by flag and other 
 decorations, and to each is attached some strikingly 
 novel or romantically suggestive name usually blazoned 
 in black letters on a strip of white canvas stretched 
 from tree to tree. Exceedingly picturesque are the 
 acenes sketched from life in the woods. That it is not all 
 poetry and romance, however, and that its experiences 
 arc not all of a dreamy, indolent nature, is frequently 
 demonstrated; the term "roughing it," having oftimes 
 a literal and unwonted signification. 
 
 "Taking it all through, you have a good deal to 
 contend with.'"' was asked of a tent dweller. 
 
 "Oh, yes indeed," he replied wearily, "We have 
 our ups and downs of course. For instance, last night 
 after we had got nicely settled in our straw mattress 
 beds, the rain was pattering soft upon the canvas roof 
 and we were just going off on an excursion to the poetic 
 nooks and crannies of Dreamland, when zip! down 
 came the tent, collapsed you know quicker'n a man 
 could say Jack Robinson, and there it lay fiat as a pan- 
 cake with us squirming under it, and the rain a pour- 
 ing. The worst feature of the whole business, though, 
 was the laughter that greeted us from the boys in an 
 adjoining tent, but that serves to illustrate the cruelty 
 of human nature and the readiness of its representatives 
 to laugh at misfortune." 
 
 "A speedy retribution awaited the game Oiakers, 
 however, for the roars of merriment to which thev 
 
TENT IJFE. 
 
 108 
 
 gave utterance had not yet subsided, when down came 
 their tent amid the rain and darkness. Suppressed 
 groans were heard beneath the writhing heap of can- 
 vas, but we felt that for us the tables had turned and 
 naturally looked upon the last collapse as a just judg- 
 ment sent upon the unregenerate doers. 
 Investigations were continued in another direction, 
 
 "How do you make out in the culinary department ? 
 Suppose you are all good cooks?" 
 
 "Well, I don't know," he replied, slowly. "I sup- 
 pose there are just as good cooks to be found. The 
 fact is, we never have had very extensive experience in 
 that line," 
 
 "You ought to have a cook book." 
 
 "Oh, we have a cook book and medical adviser 
 combined; but somehow we get Jenny Lind's cream 
 cake and Victoria fritters all mixed up with catarrh 
 remedies and rheumatic balsams. I don't see how 
 it is, but I believe that a woman can conjure from 
 her head in half an hour a better meal than we can 
 study out of a cook book in a week. We don't have 
 our meals regularly," he continued, plaintively, "be- 
 cause we can never decide who is to cook them. We 
 get up at 7 o'clock with sharp appetites, expecting to 
 sit down to a breakfast of French rolls, Jricandelles 
 and omelet souffie^ but instead we have to hold a council 
 of war to decide who is to be the projector of the enter- 
 prise. Every fellow wants his breakfast, but none of 
 'em wants to cook it. As a result, we don't get ready 
 to serve up till about t i 130, and that makes a late din- 
 ner, you know ; and then sometimes we don't get any 
 supper till the next day." 
 
 
 
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104 
 
 TENT LIFE. 
 
 ii "I- 
 
 Initiation to camp life is frequently made interesting 
 bv the elements which arise to welcome the novice, 
 summoning for this occasion the whole fantastic band 
 of buglers, harpists and pipers at command; ^olius 
 and Boreas leading, with prelude and plaint, whoop and 
 howl, an extravaganza the weirdest and most magnifi- 
 cent in all Nature's coDection. 
 
 On one occasion the arrival of a veteran military 
 organization at "Camp Bowler," on East Point, was 
 thus notably greeted. All the tents having been staked 
 in position by an advance guard, the main body reached 
 the grounds just in time to render themselves "useful, 
 as well as ornamental," in holding them down. The 
 wind howled, trees were twisted into hard knots, spray 
 spouted up the rocks, and tent canvas flapped like the 
 sails of a frigate in a typhoon. For a timv. brawn and 
 muscle prevailed over the elements; then, with a sud- 
 denness appalling to onlookers, the steel ribs of the 
 dining hall tent gave way, and the whole concern 
 snapped together like a rat-trap- Two or three men 
 narrowly escaped being caught in the wreck; dishes 
 innumerable were broken, and the quartermaster — so 
 mad was he, it is affirmed, that you could have heard 
 him swear from Put-in- Bay to Sandusky. The tent 
 was an elaborate affair, and had kept a dozen men 
 busy two days putting it up. 
 
 While all this was transpiring, old Neptune was 
 busily engaged in administering rites initiatory to other 
 members of the camp on their way thither in row 
 boats. The first boat, containing a party of ladies and 
 an oarsman, narrowly escaped swamping. They made 
 land after a hard struggle, but wert drenched by rain 
 
2sling 
 Dvice, 
 band 
 i)olius 
 p and 
 gnifi- 
 
 litary 
 , was 
 aked 
 ched 
 seful, 
 The 
 pray 
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 men 
 shes 
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 turd 
 tent 
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 r^iVr L/FE. 
 
 106 
 
 and driving surf. The wreck of dry goods and milli- 
 nery was simply awful, and the half- drowned party 
 presented a pitiable but picturesque appearance. A 
 second boat went ashore upon the rocks and capsized; 
 its occupants were picked up, sustaining no damage 
 beyond a thorough wetting. While the storm was 
 making things liv^ely at "Camp Bowler," the occupants 
 of an adjacent encampment were routed. They, too, 
 had arrived that day, and had just got their tents 
 fairly anchored when the gale struck, capsized and 
 tore them from their moorings. Descending floods of 
 rain quickly submerged the ladies and gentlemen of the 
 party, together with bedding, provisions and camp 
 equipment generally. Two immense trees close at 
 hand were blown down, the air was filled with flying 
 leaves and limbs, and the terrified party beat a hasty 
 retreat to the nearest house, the hospitalities of which 
 they were forced to solicit until the following day. 
 
 Within the past few years Put-in- Bay and adjacent 
 isles have formed the scenes of many notable encamp- 
 ments. Of the numerous mihtary organizations which 
 have made the former place a rendezvous, the most 
 brilliant, as well as the largest and most rollicking, was 
 undoubtedly the First Regiment O. N. G., under com- 
 mand of Col. W. B. Smith of Cincinnati. From early 
 morning reveille until cannon thundered forth a parting 
 salute at sunset, the drum beat and bugle call, the sharp 
 word of command, the prolonged cheer, and bursts of 
 music from the grand military band resounded from 
 shore to shore, filling the day with a continued round 
 of excitement. The camp was thronged with visitors, 
 ladies and gentlemen, and the banr", containing over 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 i !*. 
 
 
 , 'l 
 
 
 it 
 
 j'." 
 
 m 
 
 ii 
 
 ) . • .'F-y 
 
: 
 
 100 
 
 TENT LIFE 
 
 forty peiformLM\s, furnished an abundance of inspiriting 
 music for the edification of Hsteners. The arrival in 
 the bay of the U. S. gunboat Michigan was honored 
 bv a salute of several guns from the First Regiment 
 camp and a storm of martial music by the regimental 
 band. The soldiers and marines and the officers of the 
 army and navy visited each other in camp and on board 
 the man-of-war. 
 
 
 
 
 CAMP GROUNDS ON THE EAST POINT SHORES. 
 
 Fewer in numbers but hardly less brilliant was the 
 camp of the Duquesne Grays, pitched on the shores of 
 "East Point," and a pleasant recollection here recalled 
 was an evening spent at their camp. As our part}' 
 approached the grounds, we were greeted by a brilliant 
 flood of light, which, bursting through the wood, pen- 
 etrated its dimmest recesses. A massive stand occupy- 
 ing a central position was encircled by flaming torches, 
 many more of which, fastened to trees, were inter- 
 
t i 
 
 TENT LIFE. 
 
 107 
 
 the 
 cs of 
 illed 
 
 irty 
 liant 
 
 )en- 
 
 ipy- 
 |hes, 
 
 ^ter- 
 
 spersed through the grove. The tents were hghted 
 by swinging himps and chandeliers, and the rays fall- 
 ing upon gnarly tree trunks, and flashing upward into 
 the leafy vaults overarching, produced an effect which 
 was both novel and beautiful. The tent floors were 
 tastefully carpeted and each was furnished according 
 to the tastes of the occupants, decorations of flags and 
 flowers appearing. Near the tent occupied by Col. 
 Campbell of the Mexican Veterans drooped the torn 
 and tattered folds of an old standard which had been 
 carried through the battles of Vera Cruz, Cerro Gordo 
 and on other noted fields at the head of the Colonel's 
 command. Col. Campbell appeared hale and hearty, 
 though advanced in years, and on this occasion was 
 busy receiving and entertaining the many visitors who 
 thronged the camp. 
 
 At 8 o'clock the band, consisting of twenty-one 
 performers, took their positions, and the evening con- 
 cert began. Visitors to the number of 300 or there- 
 about crowded around the stand, many selections were 
 rendered in a brilliant manner, and for an hour the 
 audience was held under the witching power of music. 
 When the echoes of the last notes had died away, a 
 shrill whoop was heard resounding from a remote 
 part of the forest, it was speedily answered by other 
 whoops, and a band of Indians appeared leading by 
 the foretop a white man. They were hideous in war 
 paint, red blankets, feathers and fantastic ornaments. 
 "Big Injuns" were they in every sense of the word, 
 besides whose gigantic proportions the unfortunate 
 pale face seemed a mere Lilliputian. With guttural 
 howl and broken jargon the man was lashed to a 
 
 %\\\ 
 
 S' 
 
108 
 
 TEXT LIFE. 
 
 M'' 
 
 ! ■• U 
 
 |!«i 
 
 tree. His face was painted, and a pile of faggots 
 lighted about him. Midst ascending smoke and the 
 glare of llames, the savages circled 'round the tree in 
 a wild war dance, brandishing knives, guns and toma- 
 hawks. "Jiuffalo Bill" in bear skin suite, belt and 
 revolvers figured conspicuously in the scene, and a 
 rescue party and a horse appearirg, the captive was 
 released and smuggled into the saddle. The horse, 
 after plunging and kicking at everybody in a manner 
 most extraordinary, escaped with his rider through 
 the wood. 
 
 Scalping bees and "neck-tie parties" were amuse- 
 ments also indulged to the delight of spectators. 
 
 The Duquesne Greys, or "Pittsburgh Heavys" 
 form an old military organization originally named in 
 honor of Old Fort Duquesne. 
 
 "We're Tenting Tonight On the Old Camp- 
 Ground" is the song which more than any other finds 
 an echo in the hearts of comrades of the Seventh O. 
 V. I. when gathered around their annual "campfirt" 
 they note the absence of once familiar faces and the 
 changes which time has wrought; while in story and 
 reminiscence they live over again those memorable 
 events which so closely connect their history with 
 that of the nation. 
 
 "Banner regiment of Ohio," honored alike for past 
 deeds of heroism, as for the present staunch patriot- 
 ism and worthy citizenship of its members. For nearly 
 twenty-five years East Point, Put-in- Bay, has formed 
 the annual rendezvous of this famous regiment, and 
 its members entertain a natural and strong attachment 
 for the old camping ground which has witnessed all 
 
." 
 
 o. 
 
 TEXT LIFE. 
 
 lOO 
 
 these meetinj^s. Its location is most charminir. "Far 
 from the maddenin^j crowd's i<;rioble strife" — it forms 
 a secludc'd retreat where naught is heard hut wild 
 bird notes, and the swash and wear of waves. The 
 shores are clothed with natural forest, and <:jirt by 
 picturesque rocks fantastically carven and covered 
 
 ij 
 
 '♦ 
 
 \ \ 
 
 1 
 
 
 I 
 
 Hi 
 
 mm 
 
 BV THE CAMP FiRE 
 
 with mosses rare, embroidered by wild blossoms and 
 festooned with drooping vines and Cedars. Detached 
 rocks, overhung by native v:*getation, form tiny islets 
 in the blue water, and many other romantic bits of 
 natural scenery appear. From the camp grounds a 
 long pier projects into the lake, at which land the 
 dashing little steamers of the island ferry lines. 
 
 \ ' V :l 
 
r 
 
 ! < 
 
 no 
 
 TENT LIFE, 
 
 \ ® 
 
 Few veteran members now are left, but the fam- 
 ilies and friends of those who have passed away and 
 of those who survive fill the vacant places at yearly 
 gatherings, and the organization is commonly known 
 as the "Seventh Regiment association." 
 
 The old battle flags carried by this regiment 
 through a blaze of shot and shell at Lookout moun- 
 tain, at Winchester, at Port Republic and upon many 
 other noted fields, were formerly exhibited at these 
 encampments — blackened by smoke and so shredded 
 as to scarcely bear unrolling. The "white banner" of 
 sheeny silk, elegantly wrought and bearing upon its 
 center the words: "First in valor; first in achieve- 
 ment," is also treasured with the regimental colors. 
 This trophy was presented the regiment by Ohio 
 ladies as a mark of highest appreciation for gallant 
 services rendered during the war. For safe keeping 
 these flags were recently placed in the rooms of the 
 Noithern Ohio Historical society at Cleveland. 
 
 
 ^ 
 
UNDER A STEAMER^S HEADLIGHTS/ 
 
 Two Silly Girls and Their Adventures. 
 
 To begin, I may state incideiUally tl at I was born 
 and bred in a section of country lying well inland, and 
 until a few weeks previous to the occurrence wliich 1 
 am about to relate, had never seen a boat, save the 
 tiny models in toy shops, nor a body of water bigger 
 than "Taggart's mill pond." I experienced then a rap- 
 ture inexpressible when first I sighted Lake Erie, wide 
 rolling in all the reflected blue and golden glory of 
 summer skies. And when in amongst the sleeping 
 islands, emerald dotting her broad bosom, I was borne 
 and sighted the shifting sails, grey and white, of cruis- 
 ing vessels, and the pretty painted pleasure craft gently 
 rocking on the bay, the scene impressed me like a 
 dream. 1 questioned my reason as to whether the 
 pictures were real, and wondered whether the "Isles of 
 Greece," where "burning Sappho loved and sung," 
 were lovelier than these. The bulk of my knowledge 
 concerning great waters had been gleaned from poetry 
 and fiction and I wa£ proportionately susceptible to 
 romantic impressions. The depth and mystery of the 
 blue expanse where it met and blended with the horizon 
 was to me awe-inspiring, and when the skies darkened 
 and the waters turned green and black with storm, 
 and turbulent waves thundered among caverned rocks, 
 
112 
 
 UNDER A STEAMER'S HEADUGHTS. 
 
 \ ■\ \ 
 
 «! I 
 
 
 
 I was fascinated by the sublimity of a scene so new 
 and novel. 
 
 I loved, feared and venerated the Neptune of the 
 inl.nd seas and felt anxious to be on a friendly footing 
 with this particular deity, hoping thereby to gain the 
 freedom of his wide domain. Sailing and rowing 
 afforded attractions irresistable whicli I was eager to 
 enjoy, but was afraid of the water. A thought of its 
 depth and the thinness of the boat's .sides between it 
 it and me caused a choking sens ition in m}' throat. 
 With a trusty oarsman 1 felt no especial timidiiy* 
 though still there remained an aching void which 
 could only be filled by a personal and practical knowl- 
 edge of boats and oars. To obtain complete satisfac- 
 tion I must learn to row. Once formed, the idea grew 
 and strengthened, and one afternoon I found myself on 
 a little wharf that projected into the waters of a quiet 
 cove. The spot was romantic. The surface dimples 
 were flashing gold and crimson from the westering sun 
 and the faintest of zephyrs stirred the shore trees. 
 Moored to the cribbing was a skiff, blue and white 
 painted, in which lay a pair of oars. 
 
 "Now's your time," something whispered, I obedi- 
 ently loosened the chain which held it and slipped 
 down the cribbing into the boat. The water, as seen 
 by the pebbled bottom, was but two or three feet in 
 depth. 
 
 "Should 1 fall in or the boat capsize I can't very 
 well drown, because there isn't water enough," The 
 thought gave me courage. 
 
 Cautiously adjusting row-locks and oars, I was 
 soon in the midst of my experiment. I kept the boat 
 
UNDER A STEAMER'S HEADLIGHTS. 
 
 113 
 
 for a time in water shallow enough to wade, in case of 
 wreckage. Having studied the movement of oarsmen 
 I now endeavored to imitate, but sometimes my right 
 oar struck bottom in a most provoking manner, while 
 the left barely skimmed the surface, and vice versa. 
 Still the boat moved and I was exultant, for I could 
 row. Little or nothing knew I, it is true, about feath- 
 ering, backing and curvetting, and having lived on a 
 farm, might have turned a two horse wagon in far less 
 tin e and space than 1 should have required to turn a 
 boat; still I got along amazingly — so I thought — ditli- 
 dence began evaporating and boldness grew apace. I re- 
 solved to pull into deep water, a daring venture, but the 
 boat showed no signs of treachery or insubordination. 
 Confidence in myself, and it became stronger, my 
 strokes bolder, if not more dextrous, and I ventured 
 still farther until the boat was lifted by the gentle roll 
 
 of undulating swells from the westward. 
 
 How delight- 
 
 ful! The motion was like swinging, with space illimit- 
 able above and below. Read and his exquisite Neapol- 
 itan song came to mind, and a stanza went jingling 
 through my brain. I sang "Rocking on the Billows," 
 "Song of the Sea," and "Life on the Ocean Wave," 
 and thought of Grace Darling and in my soul emulated 
 her daring spirit. Thus I found myself luxuriating in 
 a heaven of my own creation, when a young woman, 
 an acquaintance, appeared on the shore. I invited her 
 to join me, and nothing loth, she accepted. With some 
 difficulty Igot the boat headed landward, and later, we 
 together quaffed nectar to the fresh water Neptune. 
 
 Arra evinced a slight distrust of my abiHties, when 
 she learned that I was handling the oars for the first 
 
114 
 
 UNDER A STEAMER'S HEADLIGHTS. 
 
 time. However, I was the better of the two, since 
 she had never pulled an oar, and never had indulged 
 aspirations along the oar pulling line. There was no 
 danger, obviously, of Arra usurping my place, so I 
 laughed at her fears, sang "Bounding Billows," and 
 she became more courageous. 
 
 I was growing heroic to a painful degree, and 
 having like Alexander conquered the world, yearned 
 for more worlds to conquer, when an idea flashed 
 upon me dazzling with its brilliancy. I had long 
 wanted to visit an adjacent island lying in the dis- 
 tance; "wh not now?" 
 
 My companion thought it a risky undertaking and 
 objected, but I overruled her objections and we 
 started. 
 
 "We can easily get there and back again before 
 dark," I observed, and so thought, but had miscalcu- 
 lated both the distance and my ability as an oars wo- 
 man. Had our course been direct, we might have 
 progressed favorably, but I knew nothing about fixing 
 a point on shore by which to keep the boat in line, so 
 Arra kept constantly bothering me with — 
 
 "You're too far to the right," or "You're too far 
 to ths left" — until I ardently longed to box her ears, 
 but contented myself with the demand: "Who is row- 
 ing this boat?" 
 
 We thus described a course which might have 
 suggested the "worm" fence seen in rural districts. 
 
 Outside we encountered a passing steamer. I was 
 somewhat alarmed, having heard of small boats being 
 run down by larger craft; but we got by without dif- 
 
UNDER A STEAMER'S HEADLIGHTS. 
 
 115 
 
 ficulty, and my fear of steamers was at once dis- 
 sipated. 
 
 The sun went down under a cloud which rose to 
 meet it, and we missed the sunset scene which we had 
 previously anticipated. Other clouds came up and 
 overspread the sky. Twilight shades were gathering, 
 and still we had not reached our destination. 
 
 "It seems as though we should never get there," 
 observed Arra. 
 
 "We're bound to get there," I replied, buckhng in 
 energetically. It was beginning to get dark when we 
 reached the island, 
 
 "Let's not land," pleaded Arra nervously. "No- 
 body lives there but an old hermit, and I'm afraid," 
 
 Now, on this bit of terra firma was an old tree 
 with a big eagle's nest. The nest was the nearest ap- 
 proach to an eagle I had ever known, and I could ill 
 brook the disappointment of not seeing it. Once more, 
 then, I overruled Arra's objections, and we quietly 
 beached the boat. 
 
 "We'll arm ourselves with sticks, and if the hermit 
 comes out of his hut yonder we'll go for him." 
 
 I seized a fragment of ship timber that had washed 
 ashore. A/ra pick':fd up a broken lath, also tossed up 
 by the waves, and we quietly stole along a gravelly 
 stretch, and were soon beneath the eagle tree. The 
 big nest in its top, outlined against the sk}'^, was built 
 of twigs and small limbs of trees. After a moment's 
 contemplation thereof, we hastened back to our boat. 
 "Dear me, how dark it is getting, but never mind, 
 we're homeward bound." 
 
 I, 
 
 II! 
 
 J' 
 
 1! ife:' I 
 
 '.|i 
 
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116 
 
 UNDER A STEAMER'S HEADLIGHTS, 
 
 I' 
 
 11'",' 
 
 i M 
 
 1 ■ 
 
 \ . Ih 
 
 I adjusted the oars and we were off. There was 
 no moon, and only an occasional star appeared 
 through cloud rifts. The zephyr had freshened to a 
 breeze, a strong current was setting through the chan- 
 nel, and we made even slower progress than when 
 coming. 
 
 "I'd like to know what ails this old boat, I can't 
 keep it straight !" It did behav'e very b:idly wi^h the 
 current against it. My hands, too, were blistered, and 
 I was getting very tired, but I steered as well as I 
 could by a light gleaming from a cottage window in 
 the cove from which we had started. To while the 
 tedium, we began telling stories. I was in the midst 
 of a narration, when Arra interrupted me. 
 
 "Say, we had better hurry and get out of the way, 
 the Jay Cooke is coming." 
 
 "I don't care anything about the Jay Cooke," 1 re- 
 plied and resumed m}' story. 
 
 A few minutes passed, and Arra again poked me 
 up with the remark : 
 
 "1 think you'd better keep the boat straight and row 
 faster; the steamer is not far off, and coming right this 
 
 way 
 
 1/ 
 
 •'Do let her come; we're here first." 
 
 I would not deign a look, and so persistently re- 
 turned to my story. 1 did not finish it, however, for 
 Arra again broke in: 
 
 "If you don't row faster we'll be run down, just as 
 sure as the world ! It's so dark they can't see us, and 
 she's coming straight toward us." 
 
 The churning of the steamer's big wheels did sound 
 ominously near, and for the first time I turned and 
 
nd 
 nd 
 
 UNDER A STEAMER'S HEADLIGHTS. 
 
 117 
 
 looked. She was indeed but a short distance away, 
 and 1 saw that we were directly in her course, her port 
 and starboard lights glaring full upon us. I felt a sud- 
 den alarm, but confident of being ab.e to clear her, 
 began pulling with, all my might. At that place, how- 
 ever, the channel curved visibly to avoid hidden rocks» 
 and veering to starboard, the steamer appeared to fol- 
 low us. My alarm grew, while strength began 
 failing. My hands trembled, and despite every ex- 
 ertion the progress of the boat was scarcely percep- 
 tible. The steamer was now but a few yards distant, 
 and coming at full speed. The thunder ot her great 
 wheels sounded frightful, and her red and green eye's 
 blazed down upon us like those of a monster. 
 
 I spoke not a word, but my thoughts were all 
 awhirl. 
 
 "She is following us; we must turn and row the 
 opposite way !" flashed through my mind. 
 -^ "No, there's but a moment left; before I cai turn 
 the boat she will have passed over us !" flashed back. 
 I made another effort to send the boat forward, but 
 my hands were nerveless. 
 
 " 'Tis useless; we are lost ! Another instant and 
 we shall be under her wheels ! In the darkness her 
 crew will never know, and we shall be left to our 
 fate." 
 
 These were some of the thoughts that spun through 
 my brain while the red and green eyes of the monster 
 loomed above us, holding mine by the spell of their 
 fascination. Already life and consciousness seemed 
 slipping away. She was upon ns. We were directly 
 under her bow and awaiting the final shock when — 
 
 I i? 
 
 ! ' 
 
 iU'; 
 
 ^■'!t;i I 
 
 i i 
 
118 
 
 UNDER A STEAMER'S HEADLIGHTS. 
 
 was it luck or Providence ? — she suddenly veered. 
 Whether by accident or whether the pilot sighted the 
 struggling boat 1 will probably never know, but an 
 instant turn of the helm "hard a-port" saved us as by 
 a hair's breadth. The steamer passed us close; our 
 boat trembled and was nearly swamped by the great 
 waves from her wheels. It was some moments before 
 we fully recovered our senses. The steamer was then 
 far past, and taking the oars, which had fallen from 
 my hands, I headed the aimlessly drifting boat toward 
 our destination. 
 
 "I hope after this experience you'll know better 
 than to toy with steamers." 
 
 Arra spoke wrathfully and reproachfully, but thor- 
 oughly humiliated 1 answered never a word. 1 heard, 
 nevertheless, and heeded her wise counsel, and will 
 continue to heed it to the end of my days. 
 
 s 
 
WINTER AT AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 One may travel the country over without striking a 
 locaHty in which the contrast between winter and sum- 
 mer is so strongly marked as at an island resort, so 
 complete is the revolution from scenes of exuberant 
 life as witnessed during the gay season — to silence 
 and desertion entailed by the rigors of winter, that the 
 place seems almost to lose its identity. Such at least 
 is the impression received by individuals having occasion 
 to visit Put-in-Bay at both seasons of the year. Shut 
 in by icy fetters which interlock bay and channel, 
 communication by steamer with all lake towns and 
 cities, excepting that of Sandusky, is entirely cut off, 
 and though comparatively near, even this place occas 
 ionally proves as inaccessible to island dwellers as the 
 north pole to Arctic navigators. 
 
 So uncertain are the chances of the journey that 
 but few of the class known as "land lubbers" seek the 
 island shores during the ice blockade. Those who ven- 
 ture across have experiences sometimes which intimi- 
 date them from future enterprises of the kind. The few 
 visitors seen at the island during the winter are mostly 
 those who come on urgent business, or are lured to the 
 place by curiosity, both to see how its isolated inhabi- 
 tants live and how the place appears en dishabille. In 
 looking tor accommodations the stranger finds the 
 hotels deserted by guests not only, but frequently by 
 
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 IS 
 
 
 
 
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 120 
 
 WINTER A r AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 the proprietors as well. Only the watchmen keep 
 daily and nightly vigil under the massive walls of Hotel 
 Victory, but a side door entrance may sometimes be 
 found into some of the smaller hostelries and a board- 
 ing house or two keep open doors for the benefit of 
 adventurers. 
 
 The tramp never seeks the winter attractions of 
 Put-in-Bay and peddlers, book agents and solicitors for 
 patents seldom show up to vex the islander's soul. 
 
 The pretty summer cottages and club resorts are all 
 vacant; the windows closely shuttered, the gates locked, 
 while the snow on the gravel walks lies unbroken save 
 by footprints of sparrows and of vagrant cats which 
 rendezvous about them. 
 
 At the "Bay" dancing pavillions, bowling alleys, 
 boat houses, bathing houses, groves and gardens are 
 empty now as were "Tara's Hall," whence the soul of 
 music had fled. 
 
 During the day when the island denizens are busy 
 at their homes, or engaged in amusements and occupa- 
 tions on the ice, the observer may walk from end to end 
 of the main village street without meeting a person. 
 The distant ring of an ax or hammer, the barking of 
 some perturbed canine, the voice of chanticleer, or pos- 
 sibly the rattle of a wagon are about the only sounds 
 which break the otherwise oppressive silence. The 
 visitor, accustomed to the rush and roar of the city, is 
 especially struck by the absence of sound indicative of 
 life and enterprise, and wonder how people keep alive 
 in a place so dead. The inhabitant, grown accustomed 
 to quiet surroundings, however, assumes the winter to 
 be the gayest season of the year. After a busy sum- 
 
WINTER A T AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 121 
 
 mer he rests contentedly, and if the ice closes in early 
 and remains solid until spring, his happiness is com- 
 plete. An iceless winter is to him an abomination and 
 little wonder, since upon good ice depend so largely 
 both his winter recreations and employments. The 
 inhabitants represent mixed classes and nationalities. 
 They are constitutionally and practically independent, 
 with other strongly marked characteristics. 
 
 In the way of amusements on shore an amateur 
 theatrical, concert, dance or masquerade occasionally 
 varies the monotony. 
 
 The island church, St. Paul's Reformed Episcopal, 
 built and donated by Jay Cooke, the noted Philadelphia 
 banker, affords a school for religion and morals. 
 
 The provident islander always lays in ample supplies 
 for winter while the lake is unfrozen. His less wise 
 neighbor provisioned less bountifully, sometimes runs 
 short of the comforts and necessities of life at a time 
 when they are most difficult to procure. The most 
 calamitous thing that can happen during the season of 
 broken and dangerous ice, however, is when the beer 
 runs dry, with no way to obtain a fresh supply. 
 
 The island dweller is a great observer of the 
 weather. He always notes from which quarter the 
 wind blows, and by the depth of water in the ice open- 
 ing, from which he gets his household supply, marks the 
 daily rise and fall of the lake. When the more distant 
 islands loom up, and appear as if hung in space, with a 
 strip of sky under them, he predicts a nor'easter, which 
 rarely fails to materialize. He makes a daily study of 
 the weather map and watches the storm signals. The 
 central idea, however, around which revolve all other 
 
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122 
 
 WINTER AT AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 ■\ 
 
 IS 
 
 ideas, and which dominates during the winter season 
 the island dweller is comprehended in the three lettered 
 word, ice. The idea is omnipresent. It is obtrusive, 
 confronting him at every turn. It is a cold, hard fact 
 which deprecate as "he may, he cannot ignore. It 
 thwarts or favors his purposes, and enters into nearly 
 everything that concerns his occupations and amuse- 
 ments, and with an interest unflagging he watches its 
 making and shifting, its coming and going. Ice in 
 quantities illimitable shuts him in on every side; ice 
 sufficient to swamp whole empires in cooling drinks and 
 iced creams, expands its trackless plains to the horizon 
 where ice and sky blend into one. 
 
 The resident islander is a sort of amphibian, and 
 excepting under extraordinary circumstances, to drown 
 him is among impossibilities. There are few enter- 
 prises on ice, apparently, too hazardous for him to 
 undertake, and during a single season he tempts Provi- 
 dence ofiener than he has fingers and toes. He breaks 
 in frequently, but by some "hook or crook" usually 
 gets out again ; while his associates treat the affair as 
 a good joke rather than as a mishap that might have 
 ended his earthly career. Occasionally, however, there 
 is a body to be fished from under the ice, if not car- 
 ried away by undercurrents, and a funeral varies the 
 program. 
 
 By means of the "ice bridge" connection is made 
 with neighboring islands and the mainland, the inhabit- 
 ants passing to and fro on foot and with teams when 
 the ice is solid; with boats set upon sled runners when 
 it is broken and running. Under stress of circum_ 
 stances may be seen imitators of "Eliza," "Uncle Tom's 
 
WINTER AT AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 123 
 
 Cabin" celebrity, performing the somewhat stagey feat 
 of making both speed and distance on foot over the 
 floating ice. 
 
 Port Clinton, distant fourteen miles, is an objective 
 mainland point for islanders. Fish, wine and other 
 island products are conveyed thither by teams, which 
 on returning bring loads of farm produce, lumber and 
 supplies of various kinds. When the ice bridge is un- 
 certain, these teams travel near each other, so as to 
 render mutual assistance in case of accident. They 
 frequently break in with drivers and conveyances, but 
 by means of a hoisting apparatus, ropes and pike-poles, 
 always carried along, the luckless animals are extri- 
 cated. Sometimes the poor creatures refuse to make 
 an effort, and are drawn under and drift away beneath 
 the ice. The only way to induce a horse to help him- 
 self when chilled and stupefied is by choking him with 
 a rope fastened tightly around the neck. He then 
 begins to struggle violently, and assisted by men and 
 ropes regains solid ice. In some instances teamsters 
 carry with them strong brandy or bourbon wherewith 
 to warm and encourage their horses in case of immer- 
 sion. If not required by equine representatives of the 
 party, said cordial is apt to find other ways of disposal. 
 
 As notable examples of native hardihood, sagacity 
 and experience in ice travel may be cited the U. S. mail 
 representati ves of the island route. In accordance with 
 the present existing postal regulations, mails cross the 
 lake twice daily between Put-in-Bay and the peninsula, 
 with tri-weekly trips to and from Middle Bass and Isle 
 St. George. The individual selected for this task must 
 be a live man in every sense of the word. He must be 
 
 i i 
 
 I j 
 
 ! 
 
 < -Si:-, 51 
 
 '11 
 
 
 ! \ H 
 
 ' i 
 
 4 , 
 
124 
 
 WINTER A T AX ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 it 
 
 DEPARTURE OF THE ISLAND MAIL. 
 
 possessed of agility and alertness, unflinching courage 
 and physical endurance. He must thoroughly under- 
 stand the ice, its foibbs and weaknesses; must know 
 where the undercurrents, which wear it, are strongest, 
 and be able to locate shoals and sunken reefs — danger- 
 ous to the ice navigator as to the mariner. With a 
 light horse and cutter, or with iron-sheeted boat made 
 expressly for the purpose, he daily traverses miles of 
 ice, precarious and uncertain, sometimes dragging the 
 boat, but often forcing it through by means of oars and 
 pike- poles; and he must work his cards well at times 
 to prevent being caught and crushed in the grinding 
 drifts that sweep down upon him. 
 
 The most dangerous period of travel is when violent 
 gales have extensively broken the ice and piled it in 
 
WIXTER AT AN ISLAXD RESORT, 
 
 125 
 
 MAIL ON THE WAY. 
 
 slushy gorges many ftet in depth. On days when even 
 the hardiest knots among island denizens hug closely 
 the stove and incessantly smoke their pipes to keep 
 warm, the mail carrier and his assistants are abroad 
 on the lake. On one occasion, when a terrific storm 
 of wind and snow swept Lake Erie, the mail cutter, 
 accompanied by that of an islander, was returning 
 home. Storm coats and collars notwithstanding, the 
 snow and sleet cut the men's faces until it seemed un- 
 bearable. They accordingly took turns in leading the 
 way, the slight protection afforded by the advance team 
 proving a relief to the one following. The greatest 
 danger lay in the snow, which covered alike the good 
 ice and the bad. Unable to choose their path, they 
 went hap-hazard, trusting to luck for solid footing. As 
 frequently happens, luck failed them; for when off 
 Green Island down went the carrier's horse, and in a 
 
 I 
 
 Pi 
 
 
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 Uh 
 
 %m 
 
 ■ 't'Mi 
 
 ^Ki% 
 
126 
 
 WINTER AT AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 I 
 
 Hh 
 
 moment it was floundering in the water. Aided by 
 the horse attached to the cutter following, the men 
 succeeded in dragging out of the water the unfortunate 
 leader. In consequence of hard tugging the animal 
 had been in a perspiration, and its sudden immersion 
 so benumbed the poor creature that it was at first 
 unable to stand. The horse was given a thorough 
 rubbing, and by the help of its equine friend, to which 
 it was fastened, was enabled at last to proceed, the 
 party finally reaching Put-in-B<iy. 
 
 On another occasion a party had made the trip to 
 Port Clinton and were returnmg laden with mer- 
 chandize, having left that place early in the afternoon. 
 The snow was deep and very compact, and the travel- 
 ling hard. When a mile or two on their way, the 
 horse having become jaded by its previous fourteen 
 miles of travel, succumbed to weariness and refused to 
 proceed farther. No other alternative presenting they 
 were obliged to unhitch the animal, and leaving the 
 sled and its unprotected wares, proceeded on foot. 
 Owing to the difficult walking the men soon became 
 very tired, and varied the tedium of the way by 
 mounting and riding the horse, each in turn. Even 
 with this help the journey grew more and more ex- 
 haustive, and before they were near their destination a 
 rising wind and a howling snow storm swept down, 
 bLtting from view the point toward which they were 
 heading. Night came on, and a realization that they 
 were lost on the ice dawned upon them with uncom- 
 fortable suggestions, considering the fact that Lake 
 Erie is a big place for waifs and strays to get aboard 
 on a night of storm and darkness. In one place they 
 
WINTER AT AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 m 
 
 struck slush ice into which the horse sank to its <rirth 
 and the men to their waists. After serious difliculty 
 they succeeded in flounderinjr out of this unpleas- 
 ant predicament to solid footing. Wet and bedrag- 
 gled and chilled to the marrow, man and beast 
 were obliged to keep moving to prevent being frozen 
 to death, even at the risk of their unguided course 
 leading them out toward the open lake. Fortunately 
 as night advanced, the snow storm cleared suOlcit-ntly 
 so that a light became visible. Guided thereby they 
 finally reached home at a late hour. Meantime, friends 
 on the island becoming alarmed, had started out with 
 teams and lanterns to look for the missing party, but 
 finding no trace thereof returned with the intention of 
 enlisting other assistance and extending the search. 
 On arrival they found the party safel}' ashore, though 
 nearly dead with fatigue. 
 
 Probably one of the most hazardous experiences 
 ever endured on the island mail route, however, was 
 during the winter of '97 and '98 by the Hitchcock broth- 
 ers — U. S. mail representatives. Caught in a storm 
 and running ice, they were carried down the lake by 
 the resistless force of a drift in which they became 
 wedged. The boys were given up for lost by the 
 excited islanders who at various points thronged the 
 shores. A cablegram wired to Kelley Island read: 
 "Look out for the carriers; they are fast in the ice 
 and drifting that way." 
 
 Howbeit, to the intense relief of all, the carriers 
 succeeded in escaping from the drift, and after a des- 
 perate struggle reached shore. 
 
 They were in an exhausted condition and so com- 
 
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 ipWl'' 
 
 
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 I ■ u 
 

 
 :fi ' 
 
 128 
 
 WINTER AT AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 pletely covered and weighed down with ice as to be 
 perfectly helpless. Their caps were frozen fast to 
 their heads and their garments so loaded with ice 
 from the showering spray that the wearers were un- 
 able to bend. 
 
 On arrival at home their friends were obliged to 
 cut and tear from them their ice-a/mored clothinii 
 
 STR. AMERICAN EaGLE. 
 
 which they exchanged for warm, dry garments. After 
 changing more than a bushel of ice that had fallen off 
 in the process was swept from the lioor. 
 
 The above serve as fair samples of adventures on 
 the ice plains annually taken by island dwellers. Space 
 permitting, scores of blood curdling, hair lifting ex- 
 periences of this kind might here be narrated, which 
 would afford material for a whole series of sensational 
 novels. \s\ winter the steamer American Eagle may 
 

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 «l 
 
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 ■ 4 i 
 
 i. I 'SI 
 'i .' Ill 'I 
 
VVIXTER A T AX ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 120 
 
 —I 
 
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 < 
 
 •< 
 
 u 
 
 tr 
 
 ■< 
 
 LU 
 
 I- 
 
 o 
 
 be justly termed "Queen of the Islands." Seen be- 
 side the magnificent steamers of the Cleveland and 
 Detroit lines when the excursion season is at its 
 height, the Eagle shrinks by comparison, but when 
 ice twelve to eighteen inches in thickness extends from 
 island to mainland, the superior prowess of this ice 
 battering monitor becomes apparent. The Eagle is a 
 craft of medium size, heavily clad in sieel armor and is 
 built and ballasted in a manner which enables her to 
 keep her nose well out of water. Running thus upon 
 the ice, she crushes i! bv lier weiuht. The steamer is 
 sailed by Capt. Fred Magle, of I'ut-in-lJay, whose 
 skill is equalled only by his courage. Though cap- 
 able of breaking twenty-two inches of solid ice, the 
 running expenses are heirtvy, and as the winter freight 
 and passenger tr.iilic is dull, tlie steamer runs but a 
 part of the winter. 
 
 Line (ishin<r throu<jh the ice has become an in- 
 dustry of no small import... ;ce among the islands. 
 Villages of tiny but comfortable tish houses dot the 
 lake surface at a distance of r. mile or two from shore, 
 and during a single season fish from seventy-live to a 
 hundred tons are annually caught with hook and line 
 at Put-in Bay alone. These are shipped over the ice 
 to mainland market towns where they bring a good 
 price. 
 
 Occasionally when the ice weakens and becomes 
 precarious, these venturesome fishermen allow their 
 aquatic houses to remain a little too long exposed, and 
 an unlooked for parting of the ice carries some of 
 them away. The winter of 1S97 and '98 witnessed a 
 notable disaster of this kind. Following an extended 
 
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 "■I'll 
 
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 130 
 
 WINTER AT AN ISLAND RESORT 
 
 period of mild weather, a gale struck suddenly and 
 with great violence. The wind which was off shore 
 quickly seamed and parted the ice and sent adrift a 
 great floe containing a whole village — nearly lOO 
 houses and about seventy-five people, among whom 
 were a number of women. Some of the airy domiciles 
 were blown over. White caps began surging around 
 
 PLOWING ICE. 
 
 the frail ice raft and fast the big floe began drifting 
 down the lake. So hard blew the gale that the be- 
 leaguered villagers could scarcely keep their feet, and 
 were in imminent danger of b^ing blown into the 
 water. 
 
 Consternation reigned not only on the drifting floe 
 but on shore, which was soon thronged with specta- 
 tors. As soon as boats could be procured and 
 launched, a rescue party pulled after the fugitive fish- 
 
■ t :: 
 
 WINTER A T AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 181 
 
 ing village. After serious difficulty, some lively work 
 and many narrow escapes, the castaways were all 
 rescued, but many of the houses were caught and 
 crushed in the breaking ice or carried away bodily 
 with all their belongings. 
 
 The cutting and storing of ice affords extended oc- 
 cupation to day laborers. Immense quantities of this 
 commodity are stored annually in the houses of the 
 Forest City company. 
 
 Winter recreations of the island young people are 
 mainly on the ice. They skate, sail and sleighride on 
 the ice and hold afternoon matinees and torch light 
 parties thereon. Skating is greatly in favor, but chief 
 among amusements is ice yachting. At one time 
 
 Put-in-Bay claimed the finest 
 fleet of ice yachts on the 
 whole chain of lakes, rank- 
 ing as second in the country^ 
 being ortrivalled only by those 
 on the Hudson river. A com- 
 modore and other officers are 
 appointed to direct the fleet and 
 pretty and suggestive names, 
 such as "Icicle," "Frost Fairy," 
 "Winter King," and "North 
 Wind," are bestowed upon these 
 swift flyers. A large fleet of 
 ice yachts in motion is an inter- 
 esting spectacle, and with a 
 crisp breeze on smooth, solid ice, ti^.v; speed of a mile a 
 minute is attained. Moving, as they do, swifter 
 than the wind, they sometimes sail away from it, 
 
 \'^'-^\\ 
 
 |^-=%# 
 
 A SAIL SKATER. 
 
 il: 
 
 ? ' 1.1 
 
 5;iii 
 
132 
 
 WINTER AT AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 AN ICt YACHT— THE "ICICLE." 
 
 I! !; 
 
 and come almost to a dead stop for a second until 
 the wind "catches up." Sa-ange as it may appear, the 
 yacht makes better speed with a quartering wind, than 
 when running directly before it. The sport is very ex- 
 citing, though not without its dangers, as yachtsmen are 
 venturesome, often sailing over ice so thin that only 
 the great speed at which they go prevents breaking 
 in. Accidents likewise occur on rough ice from 
 "bucking" yachts. "Bucking" is occasioned by the 
 yacht striking an obstruction, which causes an em- 
 phatic pause on its part, while the crew and passengers 
 travel on quite a distance iu advance, and if they escape 
 without serious injury they may consider themselves 
 favored by the gods. Ladies of the courageous sort 
 enjoy ice yachting, but the timid ones prefer looking on. 
 
WINTER A T AX ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 i;^3 
 
 I'Hc breaking up 
 of the ice after a hard 
 winter and long 
 freeze involves chaos, 
 such, we imagine, as 
 must have brooded 
 over "the great void" 
 before the spirit of 
 creative power mov- 
 ed upon the face of 
 the waters. An in- 
 land sea seeking es- 
 cRYSTALizED ROCKS. capc froui thralldom 
 
 presents \ spectacle of grandeur, embodying as it does 
 the warring elements. Advances and retreats are 
 mede to the flourish of wind trumpetS^. Vast plains of 
 ice drive down with the weight of an avalanche; and 
 on- rushing waves, a force of equal power, meet the 
 icy foe and shatter and channel its solid line, send- 
 ing adrift towering masses, solitary burgs and crystal 
 islets, cragged and castellated. The waters foam and 
 spout and surging floes crash against each other, filling 
 the air with a roar like the thunder of battle. 
 
 On windless days when the waters rest the million 
 shaped ice fragments floating upon the surface show a 
 variety of beautiful tintings in neutral tones of grey and 
 white, steely blue and pearl, which, touched by the 
 sun's rays, flash with iridescent splendor, each glisten- 
 ing point a prism. With its pointed rays the sun 
 drills the ice through and through with tubular pores 
 until each solid mass becomes a veritable honey- 
 comb, which a slight blow shatters into hundreds of 
 
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 l> 
 
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 m 
 
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 l\ 
 
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 3, pi 
 
 
 
134 
 
 WINTER A T AN ISLAND RESORT. 
 
 long icicle-like fragments. Thus, what the wind does 
 by force, the sun accomplishes by strategy; for when the 
 ice is once in this condition, the end is near and like a 
 wraith of mist at sunrise, it vanishes so suddenly that 
 observers wonder what became of it. 
 
 n : 
 
 \ il 
 
 •':^^: 
 
 J t ' 
 
 CRYSTALIZED FOLIAGE. 
 
AN ICEQUAKE; 
 
 Or, The Wreck of Herringtown. 
 
 A novel place was Herringtown. Other villages 
 might boast greater wealth, finer architecture, and im- 
 provements of a more extensive and substantial char- 
 acter; but for location and the peculiarity of its general 
 get-up, this little burg took the medal. 
 
 Herringtown was an aquatic village, containing 
 about sixty houses. Like the proverbial mushroom, it 
 had sprung up in an incredibly brief period, and had 
 become a commercial center of no small importance. 
 It was situated on the frozen plains of Erie, two miles 
 from the nearest point of land, with a coldly desolate 
 yet magnificent prospect unrolling upon every side. 
 Ice, ice everywhere, stretching afar, forming rough 
 broken plains, apparently illimitable in extent. The 
 lake had frozen during a heavy blow, and the mottled 
 grey and white of shattered floe and crowded drift 
 flecking wide its surface merged into the grey and white 
 of bending skies which curved low at the horizon line 
 to meet it. The only breaks in this icy vastness were 
 the haze-scumbled dots and elongations outlining shapes 
 of islands, large and small, and a narrow strip of water, 
 black-blue, a few miles to eastward, where the lake 
 had opened. 
 
 Herringtown was the exclusive resort of fisher- 
 men, who made a living during the winter by catching 
 
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 'm 
 
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 1 '■ : ! 
 
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 .il,P' 
 
 130 
 
 /^A^ ICEQUAKE. 
 
 fish through the ice. Contrary to the usual method of 
 building, the houses which they occupied were first 
 constructed, then moved to the locations selected, upon 
 runners, which formed the foundation of each. These 
 houses were necessarily small. Some were rudely fin- 
 ished; others triumphs, in tlieir way, of the builder's art. 
 The framework of each was of wood; but while some 
 were boarded up in the conventional manner, others 
 appeared in exterior coverings of heavy canvas securely 
 tacked, and made impervious to wind and rain by coat- 
 ings of oil and paint. Each householder exhibited a 
 pardonable pride in his own individual domicile, and 
 vied with his neighbor in embellishing both interior 
 and exterior. Some of these structures vividly blushed 
 under liberal applications of Indian red and vermillion; 
 some basked in lemon and strawberry tints and sun- 
 flower yellow. A few wore unpretentious wood colors, 
 and one or two reveled in cream. Tiny windows with 
 real glass looked from the gable ends of eacii, and a 
 stovepipe chimney protruding from the roof sent up- 
 ward soft ringlets of smoke, telling of cosy warmth 
 within. 
 
 True, there were no clearly defined plans as to the 
 laying out of Herringtown. Its streets were slightly 
 erratic as to course, and some of the houses turned 
 their backs upon these thoroughfares in the most un- 
 conventional manner. Pavings of good, solid ice did 
 away with every suggestion of mud; but as the inhab- 
 itants were too metropolitan in notions and too aris- 
 tocratic in tastes to tolerate fenced-m houses, there 
 were no restrictions as to dooryards. Since none of 
 the inhabitants engaged in gardening or poultry rais- 
 
AN ICEQUAKE, 
 
 m 
 
 ing, however, there was no clashing of interests along 
 these lines, and peace and harmony reigned throughout 
 the village. 
 
 I^ere, as in other boroughs, was developed an ear 
 for poetical euphony, and Herringtown fairly reveled 
 in poetical appliances as to names of streets, avenues 
 and parks. Besides "Herringtown" proper, there were 
 "Herring Center," "Pickerel Station," "Catfish Cross- 
 ing," "Perchville," "Saugersville," and "Piketown" — 
 all suburban annexes. 
 
 In big letters done in white chalk across a brown 
 front at the corner of the principal street appeared a 
 sign which read: 
 
 I M 
 
 i< I, 
 
 ilfi 
 
 89 
 
 I a 
 
 BASS & TROUTMAN, 
 
 Wholesale and Retail Dealers in 
 
 FRESH FISH. 
 
 ® 
 
 M 
 
 8fi 
 
 To this emporium fish buyers from the surround- 
 ing islands came with teams each morning, and hav- 
 ing struck satisfactory bargains, loaded their sleds with 
 the commodity and set out for the market towns of 
 the mainland. 
 
 Such, in brief, was Herringtown in its palmiest 
 day-*; but at the period wherem opens our story, 
 rumors of gradually weakening ice came with a dis- 
 turbinsf effect to its inhabitants, the mild south winds 
 and beating sunshine having honeycombed it in many 
 places. Captain Dubb's mare and cutter and himself 
 and old woman broke in off shore, and would all 
 have been drowned but for other teams with their 
 
 
,1 ! 
 
 
 
 1 , ^ ' 
 
 < :| 
 
 
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 1 
 
 :; 
 
 i 
 
 I I 
 
 138 
 
 AN ICEQUAKE 
 
 VIEW IN HERRINGTOWN. 
 
 drivers going that way. They were safely fished 
 out, but the mare and the old woman got severely 
 chilled, and the latter had her fur fascinator and alliga- 
 tor skin satchel carried away under the ice. 
 
 Such was one of the many reports brought to Her- 
 ringtown concerning the treacherous condition of the 
 ice. Even skaters had broken in, and an ice j^acht with 
 a party on board had narrowly escaped being engulfed. 
 Prophecies of an early break-up were rife, and some 
 of the Herringtown inhabitants began moving in nearer 
 shore their portable houses. But with the character- 
 istic recklessness and perverseness common to the 
 islanders, many of these denizens refused to budge, 
 insisting that the ice was "all right," and would be for 
 two weeks to come. They were having a good run 
 of pickerel and sauger, and receiving good prices for 
 the same, and disliked to abandon their excellent 
 
 ! 1 
 
AN ICE QUAKE. 
 
 139 
 
 grounds; and so, after a thinning-out had taken place 
 in the hshing vilhige, quite a district was still left of 
 this "hub" of the archipelago. 
 
 Among those who remained was an islander known 
 as "The Sliad," but whose real name was Tom Ste- 
 vens. Tom was tall and shadowy as to substance, but 
 an excellent man. He had run for mayor of Her- 
 ringtown, but was beaten by "Fishy" Finaflopper, a 
 solid citizen who tipped the scales at 280 pounds avoir- 
 dupois, and was likewise a manipulator of ponderous 
 and progressive fish stories. Tom had retired to pri- 
 vate life and his own domicile, known as "Shadburrow 
 Cottage," which stood in a side street, and to whom we 
 will now introduce the reader. The interior was com- 
 fortably furnished. From a tiny soft coal burner that 
 stood in one corner radiated a genial warmth. On 
 the stove steamed a coffee pot, and the atmos- 
 phere was redolent of baked fish. A window six by 
 eight inches commanded a view of Mayor Finaflopper's 
 premises across the way. A colored chromo represent- 
 ing the battle of Lake Erie, together with some flam- 
 ing newspaper pictures, a storm signal card and an 
 Ayer's almanac adorned the walls. Ranged along a 
 rude shelf were a few dishes and cooking utensils, and 
 above it hung a cracked looking-glass. A locker and 
 three stools comprised the furniture. In the center of 
 the wooden floor was a large square hole, with a corre- 
 sponding aperture cut through the ice beneath it. On 
 opposite sides of this opening were seated the "Shad," 
 otherwise Tom Stevens, and his hired man Jack, en- 
 gaged in operating the minnow -baited lines.' A tin 
 pail containing minnows and a box filled with fishing 
 
fi^ 
 
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 ''}> i 
 
 
 1 1 
 
 :M! 
 
 ! 
 
 T 
 
 i'' i 
 
 a! 
 
 i I y: 
 
 IP in'lln: 
 
 
 140 
 
 AA ICEQUAKK. 
 
 tackle stood near, while a litter of fish, comprising all 
 sorts and sizts, flopped lustily on the floor. 
 
 Both fishermen looked down-in-the-mouth. Tom 
 had had very indifferent luck all day and was just 
 then wrestling with a huge water lizard that had 
 caught the hook and woefully tangled his line. 
 
 He had "goldarned" the "pesky critter" until it 
 was nearly paralyzed. Having finally disposed oi the 
 nuisance he aiose in disgust. 
 
 "Guess I'll go home. MaA' wants the stove pipe 
 cleaned, and the chickens want their feed before dark, 
 and other chores want doing." 
 
 All afte»*noon there had been a whipping breeze. 
 Sharp cracks and noUovv rumbles under the ice were 
 heard, with reverberations like distant thunder, and 
 the r>ky was gray with clouds which thickened as 
 evening drew on. 
 
 "The wagons are coming across from Canada," 
 muttered Tom, referring to a local legend, as he 
 listened to the hollow rumblings beneath his feet. He 
 adjusted to his feet a pair of "creepers" to prevent 
 slipping on the ice and loading a handsled with fish, 
 set out for shore. 
 
 "You can bring the girls home and the rest of the 
 fish," he called, looking back at Jack. 
 
 Jack muttered something in reply, wliich was not 
 quite intelligible, and Tom went his way. The girls 
 to whom he referred were his daughter Randa and 
 Dolly Finaflopper, who hiad come out to fish — as the 
 wives and daughters of Herringtovvn fishermen were 
 accustomed sometimes to do. 
 
 Now Jack and Randa were keeping "steady com- 
 
.4X rCE(2UAKE. 
 
 141 
 
 pany," but Jack wid caught his sweetheart in a fancied 
 flirtation that afu-noon with Moses Horner and was 
 howling mad. He had spoken some hasty words, 
 and Randa had gone off in a pout to Mayor Finallop- 
 per's establishment, accompanied by Dolly. 
 
 At any other time Jack would have jumped for 
 joy at the prospect of seeing tl>>e girls home and would 
 have made an t-arly offer of his escorts but in his pres- 
 ent frame of mind he wrathful!} repudiated the idea. 
 To himself he muttered, and i^^rked as savagely upon 
 the line as if he had gjt Most-,- Horner at the end 
 of it 
 
 "They can see themselves ho^rie or get Mose 
 Horner to, I'll be blamed if I do. If they wait for li.e 
 they'll wait till midnight." 
 
 Randa was too angry and too independent to ask 
 any favors of Jack, but still she watched and waited, 
 hoping that he might yet relent and come for them. 
 Twilight brought deepening shadows, but no Jack. 
 The rumbling sounds under the ice had increased, 
 when suddenly there was a roar and a jar that shook 
 Herringtown. The girls screamed. 
 
 It's nothing," said Mayor Finallopper, hastening 
 to allay their fears. 
 
 "One of the wagons broke in coming across from 
 Canada, 1 reckon," he said, smiling at his littie joke, but 
 he warned the girls that they must be off at once. The 
 wind was blowing strong and steady, the skies were 
 lowering and the night would be dark. 
 
 Mayor Finallopper took Dolly and Randa under his 
 escort. They had not gone far when they were 
 startled by shouts of the fishermen, who had preceded 
 
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 'mm 
 
 '"' ''Hi' 
 
 if:' 
 
i 
 
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 li 
 
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 liir'ii^ 
 
 ;!| 
 
 142 
 
 ^iV ICEQUAKE. 
 
 them homeward and who were now some distance 
 ahead. 
 
 "What's the matter?" yelled Finaflopper. 
 
 In a moment came back the answer: "The ice has 
 parted and we are adrift." 
 
 "Great Scott!" ejaculated the Mayor. 
 
 Consternation was depicted in the girls' faces. 
 "Oh, where is Jack.'^" moaned Randa; but Jack crouch- 
 ing Kice a great bear in the gathering gloom of "Shad- 
 burrow cottage," hugged himself and gloated over the 
 sweetness of revenge, all unconscious of impending 
 danger. He had resolved not to. stir therefrom until 
 the girls were safely home and out of his way. True, 
 he heard the shouts of the fishermen whc had gone on 
 ahead, but supposing it only "tomfoolery" on the part 
 of his comrades paid no attention. 
 
 A vast fi;'d C'f c. 'ikr.O'vV'-. ^x; ..-ni h.-.c' piricd from :he 
 shore ice. V/nen discov'c:red tne breacn wa& aiready 
 fifty yards wide. Under the irresistable force of a 
 strong wind this great floe was slowly, hut perct'ptibly 
 moving eastward, gradually gaining a momentum that 
 threatened destruction to itself and to all other objects 
 within its power. The lake was in fact breaking up. 
 In the teeth of such a wind the floe could not long hold 
 together and might in a short time break into a thousand 
 sections. There was every prospect of a violent storm, 
 and within an hour or two the solid foundation upon 
 which they now stood might be ground into powder. 
 The awful possibilities of the night were such in fact 
 as to cause a creeping at the hearts of even these hardy 
 fishermen, brave to recklessness as they were. It was 
 now too dark for friends on shore to perceive the danger 
 
AN ICEQUAKE. 
 
 143 
 
 which threatened the castaways. All that remained 
 for them was to shout for help, but the wind was off 
 shore and the shore a mile distant, and though they 
 shouted themselves hoarse, no answer came back. 
 
 "Where is Jack?" again repeated Miranda. 
 
 The fishermen had niw gathered in a huddle, but 
 he was not with them. 
 
 "Ashore, I suppose," replied a grizzled fisherman. 
 
 "But how could he get ashore?" 
 
 "Went before the ice broke up, of course." 
 
 Randa wrung her hands. 
 
 "Oh, Jack! Jack! how could you be so cruel." 
 
 Another crack and a booming jar attracted the 
 listeners. 
 
 "Tne floe has split somewhere," observed one. 
 
 Peering anxiously through the gloom they per- 
 ceived less than twenty yards away a long, dark rift, 
 which momentarily grew wider. The field had broken 
 in two. 
 
 Seated before the dying firelight of "Shadburrow 
 cottage," meditating profoundl}- upon his grievances. 
 Jack became dimly conscious of a lifting motion beneath 
 the floor like that of a smooth but irresistable swell. 
 At the same time he heard the colTee pot dance on the 
 stove. The warning was sijjnificant and an inkHnt'' of 
 the situation suddenly flashed upon him. With a 
 spring he darted from the place. At last he knew the 
 meaning of the shouts he had heard. In a few minutes 
 he was with the waiting group, arriving at the spot 
 where they had gathered, excited and breathless. 
 
 Terrified beyond measure, both the girls were on 
 the verge of hysterics. In a fatherly way Ma3/or 
 
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 fe::, ;j 
 
 144 
 
 AAT ICEQUAKE. 
 
 Finaflopper was trying to pacify one, while the other 
 was clasped protectingly in the arms of Moses Horner. 
 The "green-eyed monster again took possession of 
 Jack. He doubled his fist and was about to let -drive 
 at Horner's nose, when he discovered his mistake — it 
 wasn't Randa at all that *Moses held so lovingly; for 
 the next instant Randa pounced upon him with 
 
 "Oh Jack! Oh Jack; I'm so glad, I'm so glad." 
 
 Well, there was of course the usual scene, better 
 imagined than described, over which we will let fall 
 the curtain. 
 
 The high pitched voice of Mayor Finaflopper now 
 broke in with its inspiriting strain. 
 
 "Don't any of you be skeered and don't give up; 
 the folks on shore aint a goin' to let us go by the board. 
 They'll miss us, and as soon as they find out what's 
 happened, they'll be out after us with boats." 
 
 The mayor was right. The absent ones not re- 
 turning, investigations were made, the situation dis- 
 covered and the alarm given. In a short time a rescue 
 panv with boats, lanterns, ropes, pike poles, and 
 whatever was deemed necessary for the undertaking, 
 was on its way to the scene of distress. 
 
 Along the line of shore ice which still held intact, 
 twinkled a host of moving lights and the imperiled 
 fishermen knew that their friends were coming. 
 
 Once more a shout went up, and this time came 
 back an answer. A number of boats, which were 
 launched and manned, pulled after the fugitive floe with 
 long and rapid strokes, and within an hour the casta- 
 ways were all rescued. Quantities of lish and articles 
 of value from the fishing village were also removed and 
 
AN ICE QUAKE. 
 
 145 
 
 several of the light, portable houses were towed 
 across the now widely open lake by means of ropes 
 and thus saved, but a number of these structures which 
 could not be reached were carried away in the general 
 break up. Among them was "Shadburrow" cottage 
 and all its belongings. Engrossed by his solicitude for 
 Randa, Jack never even thought of it. With its wreck 
 he lost a pair of new skates, his second best overcoat, 
 a hand sled and a lot of fish, but he didn't care for "the 
 whole durned outfit," as long as Randa was safe — so 
 at least he declared. 
 
 Not a vestige of Ilerringtown was visible the next 
 morning. As if by magic had it vanished in a night, 
 and over the spot where it had flourisned rolled a tur- 
 bulent sea, bearing upon its crested waves masses of 
 ice drift, which, shattered into a million shapes, pre- 
 sented a spectacle seeming the very person) ^cation of 
 chaos. 
 
 
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 ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAINS. 
 
 A young country girl of poetic temperament and 
 romantic ideas was Nettie Blake. Anything real or 
 imaginary, combining in its make-np a semblance of 
 novelty or variety, appealed to her sensibility. With 
 these natural tendencies, she was fond, intensely fond> 
 of sight-seeing and adventure; but her poor little life 
 had been narrowed down to the limits of a very common- 
 place neighborhood, burrowed like a partridge nest in 
 the midst of an extensive farming district. 
 
 A little brown house on her father's little farm was, 
 the only home that Nettie had ever known, and al- 
 though very comfortable, and she loved in a general 
 way its surroundings, th-^ girl longed for a change — the 
 more ardently longed when the family newspaper made 
 its weekly visitations to inform her concerning the great 
 world and its doings; of its stir and enterprise, its 
 strange sights, its wide prospects, and its panoramic 
 scenes of beauty and magnificence. In novels, too, she 
 had read —while her mother softly chided — about the 
 great world's heroes and heroines; of its storied beauty 
 and bravery, bold adventure and tragic situation, chiv- 
 alrous deeds and daring — until two worlds instead of 
 one grew upon her consciousness : the one apparent to 
 outer sense, the other to an inner perception; the one 
 real, the other ideal. 
 
I>l 
 
 ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAINS. 
 
 147 
 
 The people of the neighborhood were old-fashioned, 
 slow, plodding rustics, prosaic in ideas, uncultured in 
 manners. They read little, and thought and cared less 
 concerning matters beyond the affairs of everyday life, 
 farm duties and neighborhood gossip. 
 
 Two or three little villages were within reach of 
 Nettie's home, but they were dull, poky places. Ev^en 
 the largest and liveliest seemed half asleep. Only twice 
 could she remember having seen the place fully awake — 
 once when "Barnum's Greatest Show on Earth" 
 chanced to strike it like the tail of a great comet, driv- 
 ing the inhabitants nearly frantic with e:.citement; then 
 again when the governor of the state, an ex-member 
 of the legislature and the town mayor addressed a 
 political gathering on the square, and a brass band 
 played "Hail Columbia" and "Marching Through 
 Georgia." On these important occasions, as she re- 
 membered, all the farmers for miles around had flocked 
 to town with wives, children and sweethearts, and all 
 the roads approaching were lined with "buck-boards," 
 piano box buggies and big grain wagons drawn by 
 heavy farm horses, and the country had virtually taken 
 possession of the town. People congregated upon the 
 streets, crowding densely the narrow pavements, and 
 forming a wondrous conglomeration, with rustic hu- 
 manity largely in preponderance. Country youths 
 appeared in every style of apparel, from blue drilling 
 overalls and cowhide boots to more pretentious suits, 
 showy neckwear and abundant jewelry. Lanky, wide- 
 mouthed specimens of the (renus homo were there, with 
 frowsy locks and hayseed clinging to their coat collars. 
 They rolled from cheek to cheek prodigious quids and 
 
 
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 ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAINS. 
 
 expectorated freely — now and then sending up a vocif- 
 erous *'hip, hip, hurrah." 
 
 "Look at the goslin<;s!" 
 
 Nettie was in the cro*vd and her attention was 
 attracted by tliis uncomphmentary observation. The 
 "goslings" indicated proved to be a neighbor's son?, 
 and she mentally compared them with her ideal heroes, 
 was disgusted at the contrast and went home more dis- 
 satisfied than ever. How she detested these common 
 place "clodhoppers." True, they were good, ho est 
 fellows, but she ached to see a real hero —one who 
 could achieve something gallant besides steering a cul- 
 tivator, hoeing corn and cracking a whip behind a team 
 of plow horses. For relief, Nettie turned to mother 
 Nature, but this usually beneficent dame had provided 
 but sparingly for hungry -eyed Nettie Blake, as the 
 scenery about her home was tame and uninteresting. 
 Still there were a few redeeming traits in the landscape. 
 "Walnut Ridge" lay a mile to eastward, which, w^ith 
 the morning sun touching its forests, and tinging its 
 vapors, formed to her a sort of inspiration. It over- 
 looked vast stretches of country upon the other side, 
 and she often climbed its summit to catch, as it were, 
 glimpses of the Beulah of her dreams. Beyond it swept 
 the waters of "Eagle Creek," a very quiet stream at its 
 ordinary level, but somewhat boisterous when on the 
 rampage. Nettie look as kindly to water as does the 
 wild duck, and "Eagle Creek" was to her a source of 
 solace in the summer season. With her girl compan- 
 ions she fished and bathed in its waters, and loitered 
 along its banks of pebble and shale, watching the swift 
 current and wishing that upon it she might drift, with 
 
if 
 
 ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAINS. 
 
 149 
 
 the sticks and leaves, out to the great ocean and the 
 great world which is encompassed. Poor little Nettie! 
 
 In winter when the stream was frozen and the trees 
 on "Walnut Ridge" were bare and colorless, her dis- 
 satisfaction grew apace. A meager supply of litera- 
 ture afforded some relief, and she liked to talk of what 
 she read, but Mistress Blake was too busy with houfse- 
 hold cares to listen, and old man Blake would only 
 wrinkle his forehead, and say as how "gals ought to let 
 such rubbish alone an' 'tend to their work." 
 
 To her most intimate friend and associate, Mandy 
 Johns, who was several years older than she, Nettie 
 ventured to introduce a book of travels, but Mandy 
 was piecing a quilt of the "wild goose chase" pattern, 
 and lost all connection of what her companion was 
 saying. 
 
 Amanda had been piecing quilts for the last ten 
 years. Quilt-piecing was her especial fad, her one ac- 
 complishment, and she pursued it with astonishing 
 pertinacity — never so marked as since Ben Peters had 
 begun paying her attention. She was evidently in- 
 dulging hopes matrimonial — which if not realized 
 would be no fault of hers — and all that she could find 
 of any earthly interest to talk about was her quilts 
 and Ben Peters. 
 
 A vision of Ben's red hair, coarse hands, long legs 
 and number thirteen boots rose before Nettie, and in 
 disgust she turned to "old Gregory," the cat. He was 
 the only created being that showed her any apprecia- 
 tion. This patriarchal feline always listened to her 
 with at least respectful attention. 
 
 It was under these trying circumstances that Nettie 
 
 ill! 
 
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 150 
 
 ROMANCE OF J HE ICE PLAINS. 
 
 longed for "th< 
 
 of a dove that she might fly 
 
 winj 
 
 to some secluded isle where Mandy's quilts and Ben 
 Peters' big feet might never intrude," and, as if in re- 
 sponse to her wish, there came a letter from some dis- 
 tant relatives containing an invitation to visit them. 
 They lived on an island of the lake archipelago, and 
 now that the backbone of winter was nearly broken 
 and the steamer beginning to run, Nettie must come 
 and make them a visit — so the letter read. Aftei 
 some demur on the part of her parents, the girl 
 secured permission to go. She had never been over 
 fifteen miles from home and her heart was all aflutter 
 with expectation, though the undertaking seemed 
 formidable. "Two hundred miles to Lake Erie and a 
 trip by steamer. Just think of it !" Now she should 
 see something of the big world, its big waters and big 
 enterprises, and perhaps meet some of its big heroes. 
 Nettie required no very elaborate preparations for 
 her visit, and so after a fifteen miles' drive to the 
 nearest railway station, and a few hours' ride on the 
 through express, she found herself boarding a small 
 iron- clad steamer at Sandusky. She gazed in won- 
 der at this, the first object of the kind her eyes 
 had ever beheld, and had she been informed that the 
 craft was a first-class ocean liner, never a suspicion of 
 the difference would have suggested itself, so impressed 
 was she with its size and dignity. Imagine her 
 astonishment, however, to find the lake a vast out- 
 reaching plain of ice with no apparent boundary. All 
 the ice that had ever formed on "Eagle Creek" was 
 not a circumstance compared with this gigantic sweep. 
 She had no idea that Lake £ rie was so big — so un- 
 
 III 
 
ROMAXCE OF THE ICE PL A /.VS. 
 
 151 
 
 comfortably big — and yet it formed but a small part of 
 the big world. Then as the staunch craft under a full 
 head of steam drove into the great floes, and the cabin 
 windows rattled, and the strong timbers quivered 
 from bow to stern, and the chandeliers overhead 
 swung to and fro, Nettie became frightened. "What 
 if the steamer should stick fast or go down in this aw- 
 ful crush?" 
 
 Poor little Nettie! So this was seeing the world. 
 Already a dreadful homesick feeling was creeping over 
 her. Had the girl's parents known the condition of 
 the lake they would not have permitted her to come — 
 of this she felt assured — and now she should probably 
 never see home again, nor parents, nor Eagle Creek, 
 nor "old Gregory." Even Mandy's quilts and Ben 
 Peters' ungainly presence would have been a solace to 
 Nettie in this awful crisis — poor little girl. She would 
 have cried had she not been too frightened to shed tears; 
 and how she lived through those long hours of sus- 
 pense she hardly knew, while heavy clouds of smoke 
 and rushing steam poured from the chimneys, blacken- 
 ing ill the sky, and the powerful engines groaned with 
 theii enforced labor, and the steamer's armored prow 
 butted heavily into masses of drift many feet in thick- 
 ness. Sometimes the steamer struck with such force, 
 and came to a stop with such a shock as to throw the 
 passengers from their seats. Then with reversed en- 
 gines she would back for some distance, and again 
 drive headlong into the obstruction, while the great 
 floes seamed and bulged and the water churned into 
 foam by her wheel spouted up the sides. At such 
 times Nettie would thrust her lingers into her ears to 
 
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 shut out the horrible, crushing, grinding noises. They 
 touched at one of the ishmds where it was found neces- 
 sary to repair some shght damage sustained by the 
 steamer in her scrimmage with the ice. This done, 
 they continued on their way. 
 
 Nettie was approaching her destination, but when 
 still a half mile from shore, the steamer blew her 
 whistle and came to a sudden stop. The captain en- 
 tered the cabin. Said he: 
 
 "We shall not be able to make port, owing to the 
 heavy ice drifts, and will be obliged to put off passen- 
 gers and freight where we are." 
 
 A new and greater terror seized Nettie. 
 
 How dreadful to be put off on the treacherous ice 
 so far from shore ! 
 
 What was to become of her? With palpitating 
 heart she followed the cabin passengers down a flight 
 of stairs to the lower deck On reaching the gangway 
 she saw groups of islanders coming out over the ice to 
 meet the steamer, forming what seemed tc her a strange 
 procession, some walking, others upon skates with 
 large triangular sails in their hands, by the aid of 
 which they moved very rapidly. There were objects 
 too that looked like great V shaped sleds, having masts 
 all afiap with white canvas and aflutter with bright 
 flags and streamers, the upper portion resembling the 
 boats she had seen in pictures; these were coming 
 towards them with astonishing swiftness. There were 
 sleighs too, and cutters with horses attached and men 
 and boys with large hand sleds. This spectacle was 
 reassuring and, assisted by one of the deck hands, Net- 
 
 
ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAIXS. 
 
 15.'? 
 
 tie passed down the wide plank to the frozen channel 
 surface. 
 
 "i^re you Nettie Blake?" queried a young lady." 
 "I am, and you are — " 
 "Alice Benton, your cousin." 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad, I've had such an awful time! " 
 exclaimed Nettie crying for joy. 
 
 "This last cold snap has made the ice pretty 
 
 tough again; we meant to have written you to wait 
 
 until the ice broke up a little, but you got through all 
 
 right, so it don't make any difference. We thought 
 
 that you might come today, so we drove out to meet 
 you — here is the cutter." 
 
 On the front seat holding the reins was seated a 
 young man whom Alice introduced as her adopted 
 brother Fred. He had dark hait, line dark eyes, an 
 intelligent countenance and pleasing manners, but so 
 queerly dressed. His attire was of pale yellow canvas, 
 with wide flapping trousers, loose, bagging blouse, and 
 a hat termed a "sou'wester." All sailors and fisher- 
 men wore them — Alice informetl her — and as Fred 
 had figured as mate on an upper lake transportation 
 vessel, his dress only signified his calling. 
 
 The "bold sailor boy" of the girl's romantic 
 dreams had become a living reality, and the ugly, yel- 
 low oil suit was proportionately transfigured. 
 
 What a refreshing change from plowmen in blue 
 drilling, wood choppers with brawny fists and farm 
 boys generally. 
 
 Nettie drew a sigh of relief when once again her 
 feet touched terra firma, but the thought of being so 
 
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154 
 
 ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAINS. 
 
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 far from home and upon a remote island caused a 
 queer sensation, and yet how romantic it all seemed. 
 She saw many objects which were new and novel to an 
 inland dweller, but being very tired was glad of the 
 rest afforded at the pleasant fireside and hospitable 
 board of her relatives. 
 
 During the evening Fred put aside his yellow over- 
 dress and appeared in a neat, well fitting suit of dark 
 grey. A very good looking young man he was, and 
 interesting withall, but to Nettie he seemed shorn of 
 his glory. She could think of him no longer as a "bold 
 sailor boy." He was like a soldier without his regi- 
 mentals, and she felt disappointed. 
 
 The next day Fred proposed taking the girls for a 
 ride upon his ice yacht, and the party set out for the 
 bay. Nettie had confidently expected to see Fred in 
 his oil suit and sou'\vester on this momentous occasion, 
 but strangely enough, he had put these things aside, 
 and there was absolutely nothing in his make-up to in- 
 dicate that he had ever sailed the blue, except that he 
 let fall two or three sailor-like expressions, such as Net- 
 tie had heard only in sea stories. She was now intro- 
 duced to one of those queer iookinf^ objects — half sled, 
 half boat — which had so perplexed her the evening be- 
 fore. The lower part was painted a bright vermillion 
 with the name "Blizzard" emblazoned in big letters on 
 the bowsprit. The sails and jib were new and of 
 snowy whiteness. From the peak waved a handsome 
 edition of the stars and stripes and a long blue pen- 
 nant, star spangled, and edged with white whipped 
 from the mast-head. 
 
 'So this is an ice yacht," observed Nettie, regard- 
 
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 so 
 
ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAINS, 
 
 166 
 
 ;gard- 
 
 ing with intense interest this strange but very pretty 
 craft. 
 
 "Yes, did you never see one?" 
 
 "No, not until yesterday, and then I did not know 
 what they were, and they went so fast it made me 
 afraid of them." 
 
 Fred smiled. 
 
 "They are quite frisky, but perfectly harmless," he 
 replied. 
 
 With sliifht hesitation Nettie seated herself beside 
 Alice on the deck of the "Blizzard." 
 
 "Now look out for your heads and hold tight," ex- 
 claimed Fred. 
 
 A haul of the sheet and the boom swung around. 
 The canvas Happed and with a sudden bound the yacht 
 was in motion. How Urc a winged creature she flew. 
 The speed of the through express was nothing in com- 
 parison. It took one's breath. 
 
 "Hold tight," again repeated Fred as he spied a 
 stretch of rough ice ahead. A shift of the helm, a 
 swing of the boom, a swift curve, a slight jar, all as 
 quick as a tlash, and the yacht was again speeding away 
 faster, fir faster than the wind before which she flew. 
 
 The first shock of alarm at being shot over the lake 
 at such a rate soon subsided, and Nettie felt her nerves 
 beginning to thrill with the excitement. 
 
 Fred noted her animated face and shining eyes. 
 
 "You enjoy the sport?" 
 
 "O, it is glorious," she replied. 
 
 Fred was an ardent lover of ice and water and a 
 skilled navigator of both, and from Nettie he at once 
 caught a new enthusiasm. Moreover, he was anxious 
 
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 156 
 
 ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAINS. 
 
 that the *-Bh'zzard" should do her very prettiest for 
 Nettie's sake, so he put the yacht upon a course calru- 
 lated to give her every possible advantage of the stiff 
 breeze. He ouf^ht to have known better. lie did 
 know better in fact than to allow the swift flyer to ven- 
 ture so far upon the course selected, being aware of the 
 unsafe cond.lion of the ice, but his sympathy and inter- 
 est in Nettie's enjoyment made him forgetful and even 
 reckless. 
 
 "Fred, I don't think we had b( tter go any farther 
 out," said Alice anxiously. 
 
 But Fred was v atching the play of pleasurable 
 emotion over Nettie's tine features and heeded not, nor 
 scarcely heard indeed. 
 
 With eyes fixed upon the line where lake and sky 
 merged into a si.igle seeming stretch of infinity, Nettie 
 felt as if borne forward upon the wings of a great bird 
 and wished that thus they might go on forever. 
 
 A scream from Alice awakened both these dream- 
 ers. She motioned toward a spot of open water several 
 feet across and edged around with thin white ice. In- 
 stantly Fred put the helm hard a-port, but it was too 
 late. Into the opening leaped the "Blizzard," capsiz- 
 ing, and crushing the ice for quite a distance around. 
 Fred and Alice maintained their hold upon the yacht, 
 which lay with the tip of her tall mast upon a rim of 
 the unbroken i^e, but the concussion loosened Nettie's 
 grasp and into the water she went, disappearing be- 
 neath it. Fred jerked off his overcoat, threw it over 
 the mast and sprang in after her. He caught the girl 
 as she was going down under the ice and drew her to 
 the surface. It was the work of an instant. Climbing 
 
ROMANCE OF 7 HE ICE PLAINS. 
 
 157 
 
 with his burden to the mast he wrapped the drenched 
 and shivering form in the coat which lie had just 
 thrown aside, though sadly needing it himself. Me cut 
 a rope from the rigging and lashed her to the yacht, 
 while his wet garments clung to him, and his teeth 
 chattered with cold. They were safe from immediate 
 danger, but how were they to get out? How long 
 could they survive the cold and exposure? Was there 
 any likelihood of being seen from shore and relieved? 
 These were questions with which Fred now wrestled. 
 He tnought of trying to reach solid footing by means 
 of the mast which lay with its tip upon a projecting 
 point of thin ice, but the yacht was delicately poised, 
 and the slightest movement might disturb its equili- 
 brum and perhaps engulf both his sister and Nettie. 
 Had he been alone he would have had no hesitation as 
 to his plan of procedure, but under existing circum- 
 stances he knew not what to do. While his thoughts 
 were busy planning means of escape, he endeavored to 
 sooth the terrified girls, though the chill of his wet 
 clothing struck to his very heart. 
 
 Meantime, parties on thore, apprehensive that the 
 "Blizzard" was venturing loo far, had been watching 
 her movements with a glast and saw the accident, and 
 another yacht with a rescue party was immediately 
 sent :o her assistance. After some difficult and hazar- 
 dous work, lh6 crew of the "Blizzard" were fished out 
 and brought ashore. Closely muflled in Fred's big 
 overcoat Nettie felt no ill effects from her involuntary 
 bath, but for the want of it Fred got badly chilled and 
 was sick for a week. 
 
 Nettie felt dreadfftlly, knowing that she was the 
 
 f <•(" 
 
158 
 
 ROMANCE OF THE ICE PLAINS. 
 
 direct cause of his illness, but Fred only smiled and 
 assured the girl that it was "only a sweet pleasure to 
 suffer for her sake." At last Nettie had found a real 
 hero. 
 
 Howev'er, after her experience on board the 
 steamer and her ice yachting exploit, she became very 
 distrustful of Lake Erie and of the world in general, 
 and was glad when the ice all broke up and the time 
 came for her to go home. She departed, how-be-it> 
 with the assurance of a visit from Fred at a very early 
 date, and now — so it is creditably aflirmed — "bold, 
 sailor boy" Fred is going to seUle down to the com- 
 mon place life of a farmer, and Nettie is to be his 
 wife. 
 
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 CAPT. JOHN BROWN, Jr. 
 
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 PEN SKETCHES 
 
 OF 
 
 HISTORICAL CHARACTERS. 
 
 No. I. 
 CAPT. JOHN BROWN, JR. 
 
 Among interesting characters who at different 
 periods of its history have made the archipelago a 
 temporary place of sojourn or a permanent home, is one 
 well remembered both for personal traits and for the 
 bearing upon national events which his name sug- 
 gests. This individual to whom attention is directed 
 in the following sketch, was Capt. John Brown, jr., 
 the eldest of a family whose records have become a 
 thrilling and important part of the nation's history 
 The details of the Kansas troubles and the Harper's 
 Ferry tragedy in which they so conspicuously figured 
 are too well known to be touched upon in this con- 
 nection, but a few glimpses of the every-day life, 
 character and environments of one of its chief actors 
 will undoubtedly prove of interest. 
 
 For a number of years the writer lived in the im- 
 mediate vicinity of Capt. John Brown's home, and 
 knew him personally and well. 
 
 It was in 1862, about three vears after the execu- 
 tion of his father, that Capt. Brown located on Put-in- 
 Bay. This was before the island had become widely 
 
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160 
 
 HIS TORICA L CHA RA CTERS. 
 
 known as a summer resort. It was then sparsely 
 settled, and quite out of the way of ordinary travel 
 and traflic, and its comparative issolation was prob- 
 ably one object which iniUiced him to seek, its shores, 
 for at that time pubHc feeling North and South was at 
 flood-iide. The J^rowns had been hunted and hnunted^ 
 and many rabid Southerners and Southern sympa- 
 
 HOME OF THE LA^^E CAPTAIN JOHN BROWN, JR. 
 
 Photo by Rev. W. Fred Allen. 
 
 thizers still thirsted for the blood of the sons and 
 allies of the martyred abolitionist, and their lives were 
 endangered. 
 
 At the outbreak of the war Capt. Brown entered 
 the Federal service, but after twelve months' active 
 duty became disabled and was forced to retire. 
 
 In a beautiful, sequestered nook on the South 
 shore of Put-in-Bay, Capt. Brown made him a home. 
 
CAPT. JOHN BROWX, JR. 
 
 IM 
 
 He had never sought notoriety; such a quest would 
 have been foreign to his nature. He had nevertheless 
 won it through unflinching adherence to that which he 
 believed right, and through strenuous defense of the 
 principles of liberty and humanity. Not only had he 
 gained notoriety, but he had also gained the warm 
 friendship, admiration and esteem of some of Amer- 
 ica's trusted and best men, many of whom sought and 
 found him in his solitude. '•[It'ro worshipers" of all 
 grades visited him, anxious to see and accord to him 
 due honor. Among thtse were scholars, statesmen 
 and phil.inthropists of national repute. On numerous 
 occasions he was visited by individual representatives 
 of the colored race, who in the old slave days had 
 been aided by the Brown family in escaping from 
 bondage. 
 
 All this might have inflated with lofty conceit an 
 individu.il of less mental expansion, but Capt. Brown 
 cared not for flattery. Ltss of relf and more of 
 humanity seemed the rule and purpose of his life. He 
 was modest and unpretentious, never boasting of his 
 exploits and seldom indeed referring to them. He 
 revered honest toil, and though a man of education, 
 culture and fine sensibility, a close student and admirer 
 of nature, with a decided literary and scientific trend, 
 he chose to become a tiller of the soil and a grower of 
 truits. He labored early and late, spending leisure 
 hours with his books, or in the societ}' of congenial 
 friends. He was especially interested in Geology, 
 Phrenology and Metaphysical science. Geometry 
 was also a hobby, and he taught at one time the 
 science to a class of island young people. His 
 
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 162 
 
 HISTORICAL CHARACTERS. 
 
 views were broad, his opinions liberal. His only creed 
 was — "The fatherhood ot God; the brotherhood of 
 man." Thoujirh possessing no clearly defined religious 
 belief, his tendency was toward Spiritualism, and for a 
 number of years he was accustomed to meet with a few 
 spiritualistic investigators— residents of the island — 
 to discuss with them the problems and possibilities of 
 the life hereafter. 
 
 A thorough humanitarian in every respect, he took 
 a lively interest in philanthropic movements and re- 
 forms of every kind. He was fearless and unfiinch- 
 ing in whatever he knew to be just and right, and 
 having once taken a position could not be swayed 
 therefrom. 
 
 In his neighbors he evinced a friendly interest, 
 
 sharing their joys, sympathizing with their griefs — 
 
 and had for all whom he met in his daily walks a 
 kindly word. 
 
 He entertained a sincere appreciation of true worth 
 — whether existing in the higher walks of life or 
 struggling alone with poverty and obscurity. 
 
 He was open as day — so free indeed was he from 
 everything which flavored of hypocrisy that the petty 
 deceits and conceits of little minds excited more than 
 anything else his contempt. Such in brief was the 
 character of Capt. John Brown, "who was the son of 
 John Brown" — as has been significantly observed — or 
 in other words, who inherited from his parent traits 
 which made the former a martyr and hero- 
 
 The wife of Capt. Brown was his congenial 
 companion and helper; a thrifty housekeeper, a sue- 
 
CAPT. JOHN BROWN, JR. 
 
 163 
 
 cessful homemaker, and an intelligent and cultured 
 woman. 
 
 Together they worked and in a few years were 
 surrounded by all that combines to make a cheerful 
 and a happy. home. 
 
 Active was he in every worthy work until heart 
 disease be^an sapping the vigor of life, and for several 
 years he was subject to attacks of great severity. On 
 the day preceding his demise he had worked in his 
 garden and was feeling better than usual, but when 
 seated for the evening meal experienced a sudden at- 
 tack. His wife led him to a rocking chair, where, 
 after two hours of suffering his spirit took its flight 
 into the great unknown. 
 
 He was buried in accordance with the rites of the 
 Masonic order, of which he was an honored repre- 
 sentative. May 5th, 1895, and a poem from the pen of 
 Prof. Coler, of Sandusky, commemorates the impres- 
 sive occasion in lines as follows: 
 
 "Yonder on Erie's peaceful isle 
 Amid the scenes he loved so well, 
 Was laid to rest the hero of a cause 
 Of which all ages shall delight to tell." 
 
 "Great he was in his simplicity, 
 Great in his love for humanity. 
 Great, because for nature's laws he stood, 
 
 And dared to do, 
 What others only dared to think." 
 
 "Great, because his name we justly link 
 Forever with the world's reformers. 
 Great he was because for other's good 
 
 He dared to be 
 John the Baptist of Liberty." 
 
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 164 HISTORICAL CHARACTERS. 
 
 "Bright was the day, 
 
 And sweet the breath of May, 
 With opening buds and flowers; 
 
 Maple and oak 
 
 In tender accents spoke 
 Of him who slept beneath their bowers." 
 
 "Cedar and pine. 
 
 With voices soft and fine. 
 Joined in the requiem of the dead; 
 
 The birds drew near, 
 
 As if they wished to hear 
 Eveiy word that might be said." 
 
 "Humbly he lived and earned his daily bread, 
 By honest toil and with a cheerful heart. 
 He sought lor all things good and tru •; content 
 Whate'er his lot might be, to do his part." 
 
 "Approach that silent mound. 
 No monument is there. 
 But nature whispers low. 
 This epitaph in air." 
 
 "Here rests beneath this sod 
 Till resurrection's dawn, , 
 
 John Brown — th^ son of him 
 Whose soul goes marching on." 
 
 Those who participated in the funeral services of 
 its late owner will call to mind the roomy, hospitable 
 dwelling, as it then appeared, with its open verandahs 
 nestled deep amid native red cedars and Orchard trees 
 all in a glory of pink and white bloom; the fenceless 
 Jawn, green stretching to the lake, and edg: ^g a beach 
 of white sand and flat rock against which beat the 
 south cl annel waters; the fertile garden, with vine- 
 yard lands, and a thick foliaged grove of natural forest 
 trees; an old black horse, which for many years had 
 
CAPT. JOHN BROWN, JR. 
 
 165 
 
 served faithfully his dead master and friend, cropping 
 leisurely the Maytime grasses; and Arbutus, Sweet 
 William, and other delicate wood blossoms every- 
 where besprinkling the sod. From environments 
 such as these, John Brown, Jr., was carried to his 
 last resting place. 
 
 In the grove, a short distance from the Brown 
 dwelling, is located "Brown's cave." Its mouth is wide 
 and high enough to admit a person entering it in an 
 erect position, but narrows away into mysterious pas- 
 sages unexplored, save by cats of the neighborhood. 
 During summer heats the grove forms a favorite ground 
 for campers and white tents spreading beneath dark 
 foliapf^d trees add romantic interest to the scene. The 
 dwelUijg is approached from the main road by a drive 
 way dc n bordered with red cedars. It is an ideal spot, 
 such as a man like its late owner would naturally choose 
 in which to live and die. 
 
 Everything which can add to the attraction and 
 comfort of home is found within the dwelling —books, 
 music, pictures and a fine collection of geological speci- 
 mens and other curiosities. In one room hangs an old 
 family picture — portrait of John Brown, sr. In an- 
 other apartment — a memorial presented the family 
 representing scenes from the life and adventures of John 
 Brown all the way from Kansas and Harper's Ferry to 
 his burial place among the picturesque hills of North 
 Elba, New York. 
 
 In a little building used by him as an office, 
 which he called his "den," John Brown, Jr., kept some 
 interesting family relics. The most interesting relic of 
 the Brown family ever brought to Put-in-Bay. how- 
 
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 166 
 
 HISTORIC A L CM A RA CTERS. 
 
 LOOKING FROM HIS DEN, 
 
 ever, was the mumniilied remains of Watson Brown, 
 who was killed at Harper's Ferry. Many years they 
 had been preserved in a medical college, but were finally 
 recovered bv a friend of the Browns and sent to Put- 
 in- Bay, where they were viewed with great curiosity 
 by many persons, and afterwards forwardad to North 
 Elba and buried by the side of old John Brown. 
 
 Among the friends who honored John Brown, Jr., 
 by their visits to his island home were the members of 
 his old command — Co. A, Kansas Volunteer Cavalry, 
 who met in a general reunion with their gallant captain 
 about eight years ago. 
 
 In loc \1 relations Captain Brown was recognized as 
 a leader, and was frequently called upon to head enter- 
 prises of various kinds. 
 
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 ^i_i. 
 
CAPT. JOHN BROWN, JR. 
 
 167 
 
 Captain and Mrs. Brown had two children — a son 
 and daughter — the son bearing his fallier's name. The 
 daughter, Edith, is an accomplished musician. She is 
 the wife of T. B. Alexander. 
 
 Eloquent and beautiful words were spoken over 
 Captain Brown's grave in the little island cemetery, but 
 the most tender and touching eulogy pronounced was 
 perhaps that of his wife, as with tears in her eyes she 
 bent over his inanimate form, and gently stroking his 
 hair, observed : 
 
 "John was always a kind and loving husband." 
 
 Put-in-Bay is notably honored in that she holds the 
 grave of such a man — having yielded for that purpose 
 one of the loveliest spots along the whole extent of her 
 lovely shores. 
 
 Mi': 
 
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 BURIAL PLACE OF CAPT. JOHN BROWN, JR. 
 (Photo by Rtv. W. Fred Allan.) 
 
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168 
 
 HISTORICAL CHARACTERS, 
 
 3 M 
 
 No. 2. 
 
 OWEN BROWN. 
 
 Under the heading of historical characters may be 
 fittingly placed the name of Owen Brown, a partici- 
 pator in the Harper's Ferry tragedy, son of its chief 
 hero and a brother of Capt. John Brown, Jr. 
 
 Owen Brown came to Put-in-Bay shortly after the 
 execution of his father. His object in seeking the 
 retirement here afforded at that time was owing partly 
 to his love of seclusion, but more ostensibly to 
 escape the intense animosity which the conspiracy to 
 liberate the southern bondsmen had engendered against 
 the Brown family and their allies in pro-slavery circles. 
 
 For over twenty years Owen made his home among 
 the islands. He was unmarried, and being much of a 
 recluse lived alone; at one time in a small house on the 
 premises of his brother, Capt. John Brown, near the 
 south shore of Put-in-Bay. At another time he was 
 owner and occupant of a house and vineyard lands on 
 the same island. His winters were sometimes spent 
 at the deserted summer villa of Jay Cooke, on Gibral- 
 tar, of which he had been left in charge by the owner. 
 
 The writer cherishes a vivid remembrance of Owen 
 Brown — as he appeared from time to time on the 
 streets of the Bay village — and was once privileged to 
 take him by the hand ; and on this occasion noted his 
 kindliness and geniality of manner and the thought- 
 ful and intelligent expression of his countenance. He 
 was tall and slender, having blue eyes and a full sandy 
 beard, tinged with grey. He dressed plainly, his every- 
 day wear being similar often to that worn by working- 
 
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OWEN BROWN. 
 
 109 
 
 men; but however rough his attire, it was always 
 clean and neat, and the quiet courtesy and native re- 
 finement of the wearer stamped him unmistakably as 
 a gentleman. 
 
 In his inquiries for the health and welfare of neigh- 
 bors he evinced the most friendly interest, while the 
 details of their afflictions or misfortunes elicited his 
 warmest sympathy. The islanders, all of whom knew 
 him well, remembt him with tender regard and* recall 
 his »nany virtues; especially remarking his modesty, 
 scrupulous honesty and generosity, the last mentioned 
 amounting almost to a fault. 
 
 Accustomed as he was to frugality and economy, 
 he yet saved little, because he could not resist the impulse 
 of giving. At the island stores he was frequently 
 known to purchase sugar, tea, coftee or other substan- 
 tials, which he distributed among families known to be 
 in need, while Indian meal made into bread formed the 
 staple article of his own hard and homely fare. 
 These small acts of kindness were but the outcroppings 
 of sympathies, which in breadth and depth were 
 measured only by the magnitude of human want 
 and distress. The spirit of self-sacrifice that prompted 
 the father to his death in behalf of an oppressed people 
 survived in the son and the life of Owen Brown, 
 dating from the thrilling events of Harper's Ferry and 
 the Kansas border to its closing struggle, was one long 
 round of self denial, which he practiced not as a pain- 
 ful penance, but as a means of the highest happiness. 
 Though the friendliest of men, who would not harm a 
 living creature for his own gratification, he was fearless 
 and aggressive where the wrongs and grievances of 
 
 
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170 
 
 mSTORfCA L CHA RA C TERS. 
 
 others claimed redress. He aided his father in con- 
 veying fugitive slaves from the southern states to 
 Canada, and in 1857 accompanied him to Harper's 
 Ferrv. 
 
 Owen never talked much of his personal adven- 
 tures unless urged, or when drawn out by skillful ques- 
 tioning. When he did consent to a repetition of his 
 history, and became interested himself in a retrospec- 
 tion of past experiences, he taiked readily, and vvass 
 very precise in his descriptions and minute to the 
 smallest details. The account of his escape from Har- 
 per's Ferry after the capture of his father forms one of 
 the most thrilling narrations of danger, hardship and 
 privation ever recorded. Though lengthy, the narra. 
 tive is unflagging throughout in interest, and would 
 furnish material for a drama. The touching pathos of 
 many of its scenes grapples irresistibly the heart 
 chords and forces tears to the eyes. At other points 
 there are touches of quaint, dry humor, which even 
 the rehearsal of reminiscences so painful could not sup- 
 press. This story, and the calm deliberation with 
 which it was told, is said to have impressed the listener 
 with the conviction that Owen was a man of such 
 make as old John Brown told the Massachusetts legis- 
 lature he wanted with him, namely: "Men who fear 
 God too much to fear anything human," 
 
 With a reward of $25,000 upon his head, and 
 minute descriptions of his person circulated over all 
 the land; with the whole country on the alert, and 
 bands of armed men and bloodhounds scouring in 
 every direction, Owen with a small company of follow- 
 ers made his exit from Harper's Ferry, through Mary- 
 
OWEN BROWN. 
 
 171 
 
 land and Pennsylvania, traversing moun ain ranges, 
 hiding in thickets by day and traveling at night, guided 
 by the north star. Many times his pursuers were close 
 upon him, but by some trifling circumstance were 
 thrown off the track. Twice was he identified, but 
 as it chanced, by friendly eyes. During the three 
 weeks which occupied their escape, Owen and his 
 men were frequently chilled by the cold November 
 rains and snows which fell. They forded and swam 
 swollen creeks and rivers; climbed rugged mountain 
 sides; endured fatigues the most exhaustive, and slept 
 in wet clothing under the open sky. 
 
 They subsisted for the most part on hard, dry 
 corn and raw potatoes, gathered from fields through 
 which they passed. They had deemed it imprudent 
 to visit any human habitation, but on one occasion, 
 when driv'en to extreme measures, one of the number, 
 Cook by name, ventured to a farm house to buy pro- 
 visions for the nearly famished party, and was cap- 
 tured. The next day, when on the outskirts of Cham- 
 bersburg, lying among some bushes which concealed 
 them, they heard the sound of martial music played 
 by a band, as they afterward learned, which escorted 
 Cook to the depot, and saw the train move away that 
 bore him back to Harper's Ferry and the gallows. 
 That Owen should have succeeded in eluding his pur- 
 suers seems almost miraculous, a feat which he never- 
 theless accomplished with the loss of but one man, as 
 recorded. Physically disabled by the arduous cam- 
 paigns through which he had already passed, Owen 
 Brown was not eligible for military service at the out- 
 break of the rebellion. Being of a literary cast, much 
 
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 HISTORICAL CHARACTERS. 
 
 of his time in later years was spent in readinpr, writing 
 and in the study of nature. His eccentricities, mode 
 of life and habits of thought were remarked as corre- 
 sponding to those of Henry D. Thoreau. Though 
 lacking the scholarly attainments of this gifted stu- 
 dent and philosopher, Owen's delight in the most 
 trivial objects in nature was parallel. 
 
 Subsequently, Owen i^rown removed from Put-in- 
 Bay to Pasadena, California, where, with his brother 
 Jason, he took up his abode on a mountain of the 
 Sierra Madre range, a lonely summit afterward named 
 "Brown's Peak," where he spent the remainder of his 
 eventful life. 
 
 Previous to Owen's death, Jason had written to 
 John Brown, Jr., at Pui-in B.iy, concerning the oddities 
 and eccentricities of the former, complaining thereof 
 somewhat, but m the letter, which gave a touching 
 account of his brother's last hours, Jason says: 
 
 "When I spoke of Owen's faults, I never once 
 thought of my own, nor did I think of his good qual- 
 ities, which so far outbalanced mine." 
 
 Having occasion to visit a sister, Mrs. Ruth Thomp- 
 son, who lived in the valley below, and expecting to 
 be absent some weeks, Owen had said "Good-bye" at 
 starting. As Jason watched him down the precipitous 
 path the thought strangely occurred: 
 
 "What if he never comes back alive ?" 
 
 Owen had often expressed a wish that at his death 
 he might be buried on the peak, and as if following 
 some unaccountable intuition, Jason cleared up a beau- 
 tiful retired nook which he thought might at some 
 time be used as a burial site. He broke the ground 
 
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 OWEN BROWN. 
 
 178 
 
 and sowed it to grass, which, watered by rains and 
 mountain dews, sprung up and in a short time covered 
 the spot with a carpet of tender green. 
 
 Owen never came back alive, but was carried up 
 the sleep mountain side in his casket, followed by a 
 large concourse of mourners, among whom were men 
 of the first rank as scholars and statesmen. Owen 
 had died from an attack of pneumonia at the home of 
 his sister; and though the city of Pasadena offered an 
 eligible lot in her well-kept and exclusive cemetery for 
 his burial, the wish of the departed was remembered, 
 and Jason made the grave beneath a mountain tree in 
 the quiet, green nook which he had prepared. Said he: 
 
 *'I never could have gone back to my lonely claim 
 upon the mountain had Owen been buried elsewhere; 
 but since it holds his grave, I am content." 
 
 As if the lower earth were too cold and damp, too 
 densely permeated with the malaiia of human wrong 
 and wretchedness, Owen sought a place in the upper 
 atmosphere, nearer Heaven, where amidst freedom 
 untrammeled he found a Pisgah top upon which he 
 lived, and at death was buried, like Moses, within its 
 solemn and impressive environments. 
 
 
 
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 AUTUMN ETCHINGS. 
 
 Now through the smoky atmosphere, 
 Fantartic lights and shades appear, 
 And vibrant echoes far and near, 
 The island shores awake. 
 
 By wayside path and thorny hedge, 
 Along the copse's tangled edge; 
 And midst the miry marshland's sedge, 
 Dieth the Golden Rod. 
 
 IN THE MARSH LAND. 
 
 By fences rude, and cottage gates, 
 The noxious burdock grimly waits 
 With bold intent and sinister hate, 
 The passer-by to seize; 
 
 And "beggar Jice," and "pitchforks" brown. 
 Bedeck the garb of foji^and clown, 
 And ornament the maiden's gown. 
 In novel style and gay. 
 
i I '1 
 
 AUTUMN ETCHINGS. 
 
 Where erst the campers' tents were seen, 
 Beneath the woodland's glossy green, 
 And forest giants intervene 
 Their wide extended arms; 
 
 Now broken slakes, and trampled earth, 
 Which relics of the camp begirth, 
 A vanished seasDn's festive mirth, 
 Alone is left to tell. 
 
 17fi 
 
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 Here leafy showers, with gentle pour, 
 Have covered all the woodland o'er, 
 Frcm mossy glade to pebbled shore 
 With russet orown and gold. 
 
 Nestled within their earthy bed. 
 The leaflets rustle to my tread, 
 Or by the wind are briskly sped. 
 Over the channel wide. 
 
 Gone is the piquant summer girl, 
 With laughing eye and teeth of pearl, 
 And glowing cheek and glossy curl, 
 For summertime is o'er. 
 
 Dead are its myriad blossoms rare, 
 Vanished its day-dreams, bright and fair, 
 Faded the hopes that budded where 
 Dead leaves lie withering. 
 
 But why in tearful grief beside 
 
 The place where 'eaves and flowers have died; 
 
 And rest in common burial wide. 
 
 Thus sadly linger now ? 
 
 For leaves and flowers will come again 
 And joy spring forth from bitter pain, 
 And nothing shall have lived in vain, 
 That we have fondly known. 
 
 And cruel loss, and fruitless toil. 
 And grief that made our hearts recoil, 
 Shall in a more congenial soil, 
 Prove but the goodly seed; 
 
 
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 176 A UTUMN E TCHINGS. 
 
 To germinate, and grow and thrive, 
 Till hope and happiness revive, 
 For that ttiey too shall e'e survive 
 Is universal law. 
 
 So turn we then from pensive themes 
 To where the wavelet brightly gleams. 
 And ge'iiil sunlight golden streams. 
 The vistaed groves among. 
 
 THE VISTAED GROVES. 
 
 Still brightly mid the trees which crown 
 Yon rugged bluffs that lakeward frown, 
 The tall oaks touched with reddish brown 
 A softened .splendor shed; 
 
 And maple boughs, and cedars old, 
 Display a wealth of green and gold, 
 While sumach flaunts in crimson bold, 
 Beside the naked thorn. 
 
 Full of its own deep mystery, 
 The sky soft blending with the sea, 
 A portion of eternity 
 Vaguely suggestive seems. 
 
 Along its blue line pencilled black, 
 A smoke trail marks the steamer's track> 
 And cruising vessals flowly tack 
 Against the channel breeze. 
 
 White sails upon our vision grow 
 And loom against the Western glow, 
 Then fading wraith-like from us go, 
 Into the distant haze.' 
 
 A filmy veil enwraps the isles, 
 
 And each through gauze of purple smiles, 
 
 With rill the captivating wiles 
 
 That youthful maidens know. 
 
 Fair "Middle Bass" her greeting sends, 
 And "Rattlesnake" its length extends, 
 And rocky Gibraltar blends 
 To form a picture rare. 
 
AUTUMN ETCHINGS. 
 
 177 
 
 Now rests in dreamy solitude, 
 The lonely isle where Perry stood, 
 While ballast from its surface rude 
 Was taken for his ships. 
 
 But in Lake Erie's diadem, 
 And on her jewelled garment's hem. 
 The fairest and the brightest gem 
 Is storied Put-in-Bay. 
 
 Here resting in their earthy bed, 
 Where willow branches thickly spread. 
 And yellow leaflets freely shed, 
 Perry's dead heroes sleep. 
 
 Encircled wide by belting beach. 
 Inland the tranquil waters reach, 
 And bay and inlet mirror each, 
 The cragged, carven rocks. 
 
 Now freely run the gamy bass, 
 And in their light skiffs sportsmen pass, 
 With hooks of steel, and spoons of brass, 
 These finnys to beguile 
 
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 178 AUTUMN ETCHINGS. 
 
 Anon their voices blithely rinj?, 
 And wooded cliffs the echoes fling, 
 As outward bound they gayly sing, 
 The theme to them most dear. 
 
 BASS FISHERMEN'S SONG. 
 
 O, jolly are we. 
 
 And happy and free, 
 
 As the gulls that flao overhead, 
 
 We're lighter than air, 
 
 Since for worry and care. 
 
 We've taken our tackle instead 
 
 The feathery dash. 
 
 And musical plash. 
 
 Of the bending, pliable oar. 
 
 Our voices attune 
 
 To the song of the loon. 
 
 And our spirits ecstaticly soar. 
 
 We're pulling away 
 Toward far Point au Pelee, 
 Where thickly the bass fishes swim; 
 Though Lake Erie's pest. 
 O'er her sun lighted breast 
 Patrols the Canadian rim. 
 
 Now boatmen have care; 
 
 Of the Petrel beware, 
 
 For she's crammed with powder and lead, 
 
 But the line will we hug, 
 
 Persistently snug, ^ 
 
 In spite of our natural dread. 
 
 For to tickle the nose, 
 
 While lapped in repose, 
 
 Of the lion rampaciously bold, 
 
 Is fun all alive, 
 
 From which we derive, ■* 
 
 Diversion in measure untold. 
 
 ■ij i_i".ffi..i..i.i...i. -."B-gr- w g 
 
AUTUMN ETCHINGS. 
 
 On Italy's soil, in sunny France, 
 Nor yet where Rhenish waters dance. 
 And golden sunbeams warmly glance, 
 Through skies of deepest blue. 
 
 Is found no spot more brightly fair, 
 With vintage grown so richly rare. 
 Sweet scenting all the dreamy air— 
 Than on Lake Erie's isles. 
 
 There witching views the sight commands, 
 Unbroken stretch the vineyard lands, 
 Enclosing with their purple bands, 
 The lovely pictured shores. 
 
 There interspersed with rows between, 
 And picturesquely clad are seen. 
 Athwart the mild October sheen, 
 The island maidens fair; 
 
 And blithely 'mid the foliage dun, 
 They gather grapes and have their fun. 
 And into mellow rhymelcts run, ' , 
 
 With careless grace and free. 
 
 179 
 
 ii 1 
 
 VINEYARD DITTY. 
 
 From early morn. 
 With ringers light, 
 And spirits gay. 
 And faces bright — 
 
 The clusters rare. 
 We deftly cull. 
 And heap with care 
 The baskets full. 
 
 But when at eve, 
 A crescent moon, 
 The shadows cleave. 
 And zephyrs croon; 
 
 I 
 
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 !■ 'i' 
 
180 
 
 A UTUMN E TCHINGS, 
 
 We haste away, 
 Where torches glance, 
 To join the gay 
 "Grape picker's dance." 
 
 And midst the din 
 And festive mirth, 
 Forget therein 
 All else on earth. 
 
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 Serenely fair, the Autumn day, 
 Now softly melts from gold to grey, 
 And lengthened shadows thickly lay, 
 The vineyard rows among. 
 
 Slowly the evening steamer threads 
 Her course by "Ballast reef" and heads 
 Bayward, while sunset golden sheds 
 A brilliance over all. 
 
 So when for me life's sunset glow 
 Shall o'er my path its radiance throw. 
 Thus may I pass from all below, 
 And bid the world "Good Night." 
 
 «^ 
 
 A 
 
FRUIT HARVEST 
 
 In the Archipelagfo* 
 
 (Photo by Rev. W. F. Allen.) PRUNING THE VINES, 
 
 Vineyards 
 — we read of 
 them in po- 
 etry and i n 
 history, i n 
 story and in 
 song. 
 
 Luxurious- 
 ly spreading 
 beneath the 
 genial skies 
 of Sunny 
 
 France are they found, and westward stretching toward 
 the fartherest outlying coasts of Brittany. They cover 
 the Castillian slopes and Andalusian valleys of Spain, 
 and run riot about the ivied castles and moss-grown 
 ruins of the historic Rhine. In the warm, sheltered 
 valleys of the Apennines and along the classic shores 
 of the Mediterranean they grow and thrive, and the 
 ripening clusters scent the dreamy air, while the redi 
 white, purple and gold of the many varieties paint the 
 landscape with diversified color. 
 
 Probably no spot within the Northern States east 
 of the Rockies more resembles these storied lands of 
 
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 FRUIT HARVEST 
 
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 poetry, sunshine and grapes than do the ishinds of 
 Lake Erie— a feature often remarked by foreign 
 tourists. However, not alone in grapes do they lux- 
 uriate, but in every variety of fruit native to the soil 
 and climate, and a never ceasing wonder to autumn 
 visitors are the overwhelming crops produced. Wher- 
 ever the steamer touches at any of the numerous land- 
 ings, and especialU'^ at the principal steamboat wharves 
 where cargoes of fruit are taken on board, the observer 
 is strongly impressed with the extent and importance of 
 the horticultural interests of the locality. Business 
 along the fruit line is seen to overshadow every other 
 concern including pound fishing which ranks second as 
 an island industry. 
 
 The rich and bountiful exhibit of Pomona's treas- 
 ures becomes less of a marvel, however, when it is 
 known that the whole extent of available surface 
 on Put-in-Bay, Middle Bass and Isle St. George com- 
 prises each a magnificent sweep of vineyard and or- 
 chard lands without a solitary wheat, corn, oat or hay 
 field intervening, and only occasional small pasture lots, 
 gardens and truck patches appearing. 
 
 A grain reaper, mower or threshing machine are 
 things never seen among the Bass islands, and the 
 resident small boy would undoubtedly open his eyes as 
 widely at sight of one of these objects as a youthful 
 landlubber might open his at sight of a big lake 
 steamer. 
 
 While the farmer's busy season is in rnid-summer 
 when the grain is golden and the meadows are sweet 
 with new mown grasses, the island dweller begins his 
 harvest of vine and orchard products in early September, 
 
IX THE^ARCnrPELAGO. 
 
 183 
 
 \ \ 
 
 continuing it 
 through crisp 
 October and 
 on frequently 
 until bleak No- 
 vember blasts 
 smite his 
 cheeks, and the 
 frost- bl ight 
 sears leaf and 
 blade. During 
 
 (Pb.obyRev.W. V. A.len, DRIV, NG GRAPE POSTS. all thcSe Weeks 
 
 of fruit gathering, hauling and shipping, so busy is he 
 that the proverbial busy bee is left beliind in the com- 
 petition. 
 
 Not only is the lord of the vineyard kept constantly 
 at work, but likewise all his help, male and female, 
 and his good wife, if she wills, and his sons and daugh- 
 ters and relatives near and distant, with goodness 
 knows how many outsiders, are marshalled into ser- 
 vice. Housekeeping affairs must languish to a con- 
 siderable extent, of course. The bread gets away, 
 pies and cookies mysteriously disappear, carpets and 
 furniture get dusty, and the clothes basket becomes 
 piled with soiled clothes. The thrifty housewife chafes 
 and sometimes scolds over existing conditions, but is 
 powerless to cope successfully against such fearful 
 odds of dirt and disorder, and still do her part in fur- 
 thering the fruit gathering. 
 
 Callers who come unexpectedly are apt to find the 
 lady of the house in the vineyard arrayed in a ging- 
 
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184 
 
 FRUIT HARVEST 
 
 ham sunbonnet, her husband's cast off coat and pos- 
 sibly his shoes. She looks ruddy and picturesque, 
 and though slightly mortified and very profuse in apol- 
 ogies, laughs jocosely at being caught in "such an out- 
 rageous plight." 
 
 Agents and peddlars bitterly complain of finding 
 "everybody in the vineyard and nobody at home," and 
 though affording them excellent opportunity for 
 munching rich clusters, and flirting with the pretty 
 young girls who gather them, the vineyard is a bad 
 place to talk business, and their trade correspondingly 
 suffers. 
 
 At the islands grape picking is regarded as an ex- 
 ceptionally genteel occupation, and young ladies who 
 scorn kitchen accomplishments, who eschew dining 
 room service and chamber work, take as kindly to 
 grape picking as fish take to water. Among the 
 pickers are found shop girls, dressmakers, salesladies 
 and book-keepers, and they sometimes go to work in 
 dainty sailor hats and beaver jackets; but most of them 
 don more picturesque attire. Though sickly and sal- 
 low at the beginning, the bracini^ breezes, the sun, the 
 live fun, and the luscious grape& contribute to 'give 
 tone, flesh and color; and the picker soon begins con- 
 sulting the grocer's scales and to mark her rapidly in- 
 creasing weight. The girls who pick grapes are 
 usually witty and wise, as well as gay and piquant. 
 They are out for a good time and have it, and why 
 not? when the sunshine is so golden and sky and water 
 such a lovely tint, and the beauty, poetry and music of 
 nature are everywhere felt as well as seen and heard. 
 So through mellow afternoons while lights and shadows 
 
IN THE ARCHIPELAGO. 
 
 185 
 
 \. . 
 
 THE VINEYARD LANDS. 
 
 play amonjj 
 the vines and 
 he aroma of 
 ripened chis- 
 ters scents the 
 a i r — vv h i 1 e 
 sea gulls dip 
 and fishing 
 boats come 
 and go, the 
 
 grape pickers are busy, and blithe and song, shout 
 and gay repartee are heard on every side. They 
 meet many pleasant acquaintances, form lasting friend- 
 ships and make some interesting "mashes" among 
 susceptible island youths. Many who come to 
 the island looking thin, pale and melancholy, go away 
 jolly, romping girls, a trifle sunbrowned and a bit 
 flreckled, of course, but healthy and happy. 
 
 "Anybody can pick grapes." So they can, but 
 know ye that it is an art to be studied, and to do the 
 work speedily and well requires extended practice. 
 There's quite a knack, for instance, in rounding up a 
 basket of grapes, and to do it perfectly requires almost 
 as much constructive skill and artistic ability as the 
 planning and execution of an elaborate floral piece. 
 
 Now, the grape shipper is very fastidious concern- 
 ing his baskets. They must be heaped to the handles, 
 yet so nicely rounded at the ends as to allow them to 
 be stacked up in tiers one upon the other without 
 bruising the contents. They must show to advantage 
 the delicate bloom of the beauty bunches nestling under 
 
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186 
 
 FRUIT HARVEST 
 
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 coverings of pink tarletan. They must look smooth 
 and even, and all imperfect fruit must be eliminated. 
 
 There's lots of character in basket buildir>g, so 
 much, indeed, that the local phrenologist can tell there- 
 from the general character of the builder. If the 
 basket has a mussy, topsy-turvy appearance^ the 
 nicker is dead sure to be slovenly and disorderly in 
 habits; if lop-sided and ill proportioned, generally the 
 individual lacks form, calculation, etc. If bad grapes 
 are found at the bottom with good ones on top, the 
 picker is disposed to be tricky. An honest basket in- 
 dicates an honest builder, and one symmetrically topped 
 proclaims a symmetrical taste. Thus it transpires that 
 if a young man with an eye to business wants to learn 
 what kind of a housekeeper the girl who has been his 
 lale vineyard partner will make, he examines the 
 basket she has filled. In like manner the damsel in- 
 spects his, and reads as in a magic mirror as to 
 whether he will make a model husband or is likely to 
 enter the house without cleaning his boots, to spit 
 tobacco juice against the kitchen siove and to scratch 
 matches on the wall. 
 
 The results of a day's picking are a surprise to the 
 uninitiated. There are baskets and baskets by scores, 
 and hundreds brimming with sweetness, and it is quite 
 a trick to get the labels in place and the tarletan 
 corners pinioned down smooth and tight. This done, 
 they are loaded upon a fruit rack made to fit the 
 wagon and conveyed to the wharves. 
 
 In the height of the fruit seascn a novel spectacle 
 is presented at the Put-in-Bay docks. The ware- 
 houses everywhere are jam full of basketed products 
 
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IN THE ARCHIPELAGO. 
 
 ) 
 
 187 
 
 — peaches, plums and grapes — the latter largely pre- 
 dominating. Loads are still being discharged and 
 billed, while a long line of fruit-laden wagons stand 
 waiting one upon another for opportunity to deposit 
 their contents. The observer wonders at the patience 
 of the drivers, for no matter how great his hurry, each 
 bides his time with stoical grace. 
 
 Nearly every wagon met on the island roads is 
 laden with grapes and other fruit for the steamer 
 wharves. Grapes for wine purposes are enclosed in 
 heavy wooden boxes. Fruit speculators abound, and 
 many a sharp dicker takes place between buyer and 
 seller. 
 
 Outgoing steamers of all the island lines carry 
 cargoes of fruit, but the larger bulk is sent up the lakes 
 via Detroit, and the signal for a general rush at the 
 landing is the arrival of the Detroit steamer bound up, 
 which on account of taking fruit at other island points 
 does not reach the bay until late. 
 
 By the brilliant light of lamps and lanterns her 
 decks appear already heaped with the spoils of vine- 
 yard and orchard, but under the direction of their 
 superior officers the deck hands hustle on board the 
 large consignments still awaiting them. The scene is 
 a busy one. There are many spectators, and it is 
 sonetimes quite late when the steamer whistles "off 
 lines" and heads away for Detroit. 
 
 A day spept in the island vineyards when conditions 
 are favorable is a day to be remembered, for the 
 sunny climes of foreign lands can furnish no fairer or 
 more enchanting scenes. 
 
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 ** ISLE DE FLEURS/' '= 
 
 From a time obscure and olden, 
 Linked by chain ot legends golden, 
 
 To the present day, 
 Comes to us a pleasing story, 
 Full of reminiscence hoary, 
 
 Down the ages grey. 
 
 'Tis about a lonely islet, 
 Stretching under skies of violet, 
 
 In the hazy west; 
 Brightly fair among the number 
 That together calmly slumber 
 
 On Lake Erie's breast. 
 
 Near it one propitious June day, 
 Anchored fast, a wave-worn brig lay. 
 
 After voyage long; 
 Over leagues of untried waters, 
 Where the dusky warrior's daughters 
 
 Sang their chieftain's song; 
 
 While upon the wavelets lightly, 
 Touched by silver moonbeams nightly, 
 
 Sped their bark canoes: 
 But the white-winged vessel lying 
 With her tattered pennon flying, 
 
 Resting from her cruise; 
 
 *NoTE.— 'Accordiiifr to liistorical ac> )uiit. the first sail craft that ever 
 cruised the island waters anchon'd off what is now known as Middle Bass, 
 in the latter part of the 17th century. The vessel, bound up the lake, carried 
 a party of I'Vench missionaries, anionfr whom was Father Louis Hrnncsin. 
 Upon this island the missionaries landed, and there conducted the first 
 reliiifious service suppo.sed ever to have been held in the archi{)elago by rep- 
 resentatives of the Christian faith. So detifrhted with the island and its 
 rich display of floral wealth were these early navigato's, that thev named 
 it Isle de /^Vfari— "Isle of Flowers'.' 
 
TSLE DE FLEURS, 
 
 Was the first sail of the white man 
 Ever risk of rock and reef ran, 
 
 On Lake Erie's wave; . • 
 
 And the painted island savage, 
 Used alone to war and ravage, 
 
 Fearful grew, and grave. 
 
 On the beae'i they quickly gathered. 
 Youthful brave and warrior feathered. 
 
 At a sight so new; ' 
 
 And in silence there awaited 
 Small boats with intruders freighted, 
 
 From "the winged canoe." 
 
 Facing then the vessel's captain. 
 Quoth an aged, dusky chieftain: 
 
 "Wherefore art thou here .'' 
 Pale-face, tell us: Cam'st tht)u hither 
 All the red man's hopes to wither. 
 
 By the breath of fear?" 
 
 "Cam'st thou to despoil our treasure, 
 Basely to enslave at pleasure 
 
 Youthful maidens fair? 
 Cam'st for bloody war and pillage, 
 Ruthlessly to burn our village, 
 
 And our braves ensnare ?" 
 
 Then a man of stately bearing. 
 Symbols sacred meekly wearing 
 
 On his priestly gown. 
 Rose to greet each dusky native, 
 While a heartfelt hymn oblatlve 
 
 Softly floated round. 
 
 Spake the priest — a Bible holding, 
 And its precepts there unfolding — 
 
 "Came we that strife may cease ! 
 Fear not these, thy stranger brothers; 
 This our motto— 'Love to '"thers,' 
 
 And our mission — peace." 
 
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 ISLE DE FLEURS. 
 
 Then he told the olden story, 
 Which, transcendent in its glory, 
 
 Gilds the sacred Word, 
 And the painted island savage, 
 Used alone to war and ravage, 
 
 Marveled as he heard. 
 
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 THE PAINTED ISLAND SAVAGE. 
 
 All the green isle overspreading, 
 Widely Jragrance nchly shedding 
 
 Through the balmy air ; 
 Bloomed in wild, unkempt profusion, 
 'Mid the tangled wood's seclusion, 
 
 Flow'rets brightly fair. 
 
 With the lovely shores delighted, 
 Which these voyagers had sighted. 
 
 And had early hailed — 
 Isle de Fleurs — "Isle of Flovcers" — 
 Named they thus its pristine bowers 
 
 Ere again they sailed. 
 
ISLE DE FLEURS. 
 
 191 
 
 Cent'ries now, with movement solemn, 
 Every trace has swept before them 
 
 Of these voyagers : 
 Yet this isle of pleasing story 
 Bears the name and blossomed glory 
 
 Which of old were hers. 
 
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 MIDDLE BASS CLUB GROUNDS. 
 
 MIDDLE BASS 
 
 And Her Attractions. 
 
 As one of the trip- 
 lets which comprise 
 the "Bass" group, 
 Middle Bass inland 
 i s a section o f the 
 same emerald, so to 
 speak, as that from 
 which Put-in-Bay 
 was cut. Its coves 
 and shore lines are 
 pretty and pictur- 
 esque, and the place as a whole forms a natural 
 garden spot. The primitive name, "Isle de Fleurs," is 
 significant, and the blooms of field and forest not only; 
 but fruits, and foliage, and vegetation, both wild and 
 cultivated, unite in rendering it a perfect dream of 
 beauty. 
 
 Middle Bass is shaped something like a duck — 
 minus the legs — the neck forming East Point, a long, 
 narrow projection luxuriant with tangles of wild 
 growths and picturesque with rough rocks, and a 
 tumbled beach over which ranting storms rush and roar. 
 A sort of "John O'Groat's house" occupies the ex- 
 treme point, rising boldly over creviced shore and 
 dashing sea. 
 
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 The tail of the duck is formed by the bobhed off 
 western portion of the ishind. Upon this caudle ap- 
 pendage is located the grounds of the Middle Bass club 
 with its buildings and improvements. That Middle 
 Bass holds, as a summer resort, an important place, is 
 due to its charming loci tion and convenience of access 
 not only, but also to the enterprise of this association, 
 which has expended a large amount of money in fitting 
 up for the use of iis mi^nbers and invited guests during 
 summer heats a most delightful rendezvous. 
 
 The approach tht^reto from the main landing at 
 VVchrle's is by an angling road which cuts through rich 
 tracts of vineyard and orchard lands, while to left and 
 right appear the neat dwellings of islanders, with their 
 prtlty yards and gardens. 
 
 The grounds are sheltered b}' natural forest trees 
 and the situation is refreshingly cool and breezy. In 
 addition to the magnihcent club house with massive 
 tower and wide, cool verandahs, they also contain a 
 handsome pavilion and boat house, a Gothic chapel in 
 which religious services are conducted, and a large and 
 elegant hall, at which are held club parties and enter- 
 tainments. These attractions, together with a collec- 
 tion of artistically built cottages, shaded avenues and 
 carefully kept lawns, form in themselves a village of un- 
 rivalled beauty and elegance. There are no fences to 
 give to the place an air of littleness or exclusiveness and 
 the lawns and grass plots reach ^.nbroken to the gutter 
 and are miracles each of the gardener's skill. Every 
 beautiful and artistic effect is studied in the arrange- 
 ment of vines, vases, plants and shrubbery, and every 
 
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 104 
 
 MIDDLE BASS 
 
 detail is looked after with the most scrupulous neatness 
 and care. 
 
 Pavements of smooth, white stone, sawed into 
 blocks of uniform size and thickness, edge the main 
 avenues and connect the club grounds with the steam- 
 boat wharves and piers. . 
 
 During the summer season a ferry line steamer — 
 Le Roy Brooks — ^runs between the club ground and 
 Put-in-Bay, and viewed from the steamer's decks as she 
 approaclies the former place, presents an exceedingly 
 attractive appearance. Club resorters crowd the wide 
 pier, idly promenade the avenues, or recline in the 
 deep, cool shadows of spreading trees. Cots, ca.r.p 
 chairs, rockers and tete-a-tetes stand ready for occu- 
 pation, and luxurious hammocks swing invitingly. 
 
 Ths club consists of 200 members, having been 
 limited to that number, and represents some of the 
 wealthiest and most influential families of Toledo, 
 Cleveland, Cincinnati, Springfield, Dayton, Chicago 
 and other cities. 
 
 In the club membership, or on the list of invited 
 guests, annually appear names of prominent men such 
 as Governor Asa Bushnell and representatives of his 
 staff; Senator Foraker, General J. Warren Keiffer, 
 Judge Haynes, ex-Secretary of the Treasury Charles 
 Foster, and Senator Hanna. These, and other dis- 
 tinguished public men, with their families, are members 
 or guests at this resort. Among society people of 
 prominence entertained there from time to time may be 
 mentioned the Misses Clay of Lexington, Kentucky; 
 Miss Rusk, daughter of Jeremiah Rusk, Mrs. Reese, 
 sister of Senator Sherman, and ladies of like prominence. 
 
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AND HER A TTR ACTIONS. 
 
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 The cottage of John Berdan has won distinction as 
 the home, for two or three weeks during his pres- 
 idential campaign, of Benjamin Harrison and family, 
 who were then guests of the club. 
 
 Life at the club is delightful, an(^ rest, recreation 
 and happiness are found in m^iasure unrestricted. 
 Lawn tennis, bicycle riding, bathing, boating and other 
 pastimes occupy old and young. Music by the hotel or- 
 chestra, piano or mandolin may be heard during the 
 afternoon and evening. Smging by select solo and 
 quartette performers fill the air with a medley of sweet 
 sounds, Rehberg's hall echoes to the feet of dancers, 
 gaily painted boats and swift winged yachts put out 
 from shore laden with pleasure parties. Propellers, 
 cargo laden, and str ags of b:irges bound up and down 
 the great highways of commerce, come and go, and 
 shadowy sails appear, to vanish again in the blending 
 haze of sea and sky. Such is life at this little earthly 
 paradise. 
 
 Among resorts there is none which so strongly at- 
 tracts the gayer portion of visiting crowds than that 
 known as "Wenrle's Hall" where: 
 
 '•Youth and pleasure meet 
 
 To chase the glowing hours with flying feet." 
 
 For by day and night from the opening of the sea- 
 son to its close are heard the sounds of music and the 
 dance, and thousands come and go, as many as a 
 thousand persons having been on some occasions rep- 
 resented in the hall, the assemblage consisting of hotel 
 guests from Put-in-Bay, island dwellers and parties from 
 Sandusky and other points who arrive on moonlight 
 
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 100 
 
 MIDDLE BASS 
 
 WEHRLE'S HALL. 
 
 excursions. On such occasions the hall is a blaze of 
 light, the orchestra pla\'s, the whistle of busy ferry 
 boats is heard— the ///«, a well known and favored 
 little steamer and other boats being represented — and 
 red and green lights twinkle across the channel 
 waters. 
 
 At a late hour when the entertainment is over, and 
 the steamers with their crowds move away, the band 
 strikes up a lively selection, a cannon mouths forth a 
 parting salute and shouts and cheers resound. 
 
 Wehrle's hall occupies the upper portion of an ex- 
 
AND HER A TTRACTIONS. 
 
 107 
 
 tensive building fronting the steamboat wharves, and 
 is reached from the outside by flights of stairs. A 
 wide balcony projects over the entire front and across 
 the end overlooking the residence and private grounds 
 of the late Andrew Wehrle. The hall is wainscotted 
 with light oak or maple. At one end is the music 
 platform, at the other end billiard and other tables. 
 From a side counter customers order refreshments of 
 all sorts, which may be had, from a dish of ice cream 
 to vnnes of every brand, and the tempting goblet with 
 its color and sparkle and seductive sweets goes round. 
 
 Under the hall are the vaults of the Wehrle Wine 
 company, which contains, it is said, some of the largest 
 casks in the world. 
 
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 EXPERIENCES OF AN OLD DOCTOR 
 
 Among: the Islands of Erie* 
 
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 Though small in area, North Bass —otherwise 
 known as "Isle St. George" — is great in importance; 
 so rendered by the many heroes of adventure there 
 produced. This island lies four miles to the north of 
 Put-in-Bay. Isolated as they were, its early inhabit- 
 ants were prone to all sorts of difficulties and discom- 
 forts which overtook them whenever they made an 
 attempt to get somewhere. Following is an old doc- 
 tor's description of his first visit to this remote isle and 
 subsequent adventures in the archipelago: 
 
 "I was practicing medicine in the city of Rochester, 
 N. Y., and having business in Sandusky, the owner of 
 Isle St. George, Henr}'^ Champion, presented me a power 
 of attorney to procure a lease of Roswell Nichols. He 
 occupied the island as a squatter. To get to the place 
 was a quandary — no steamboat. I got set over on 
 the peninsula in a row boat; from there I hired an 
 Indian to take me to Put-in-Bay in his canoe. Thence 
 I got passage to Isle St. George. I found the said 
 Nichols, his wife and two Scotts, brothers of Mrs. 
 Nichols, sole occupants. At a later date, however, I 
 became myself a resident of the island. 
 
 "A mail carrier and a doctor doing a traveling 
 business among these islands frequently have some 
 pretty tough experiences, and no mistake." 
 

 EXPERIENCES OF AN OLD DOCTOR. 
 
 199 
 
 The speaker :ipread his hands over the big base 
 burner, by the aid of which he was trying to warm 
 himself. 
 
 "The fact is," continued tlie doctor, after a moment's 
 reflection, "I don't believe there is any class or condition 
 of men upon this terrestrial ball that see more o.^ rough- 
 and-tumble experience than they, unless it be a Rocky 
 mountain stage coach driver or an Arctic explorer. 
 
 "1 have roughed it on old Erie for years — not as a 
 sailor, but as a doctor, traveling by steamer, skiff, sail, 
 team and on foot. Like the Flying Dutchman, I am 
 forever on the wing, beating about in all weathers, over 
 all creation and a part of Canada." 
 
 "Indeed ! So you» practice extends to the Cana- 
 
 dian shores 
 
 ;'» 
 
 "Oh, yes; I have had practice in Leamington, 
 Kingsville and other places along the Canada main, as 
 well as at Point au Pelee Island, Kelley Island, the 
 three Bass Islands and the peninsula. 
 
 "I have traveled back and forth so much as to have 
 nearly lost my identity, and hardly know whether I 
 belong to the United States or Canada. When I'm 
 here Uncle Sam claims me, and when I go over the 
 lake they try to annex me to the Queen's dominions." 
 
 "I suppose you find it risky business, sometimes, 
 traveling over the ice ?" 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed ! It's all solid enough this winter, 
 but I have been called from one island to another, in 
 the pursuit of my avocation, when it wasn't fit for any 
 human being to cross. I have t»'aveled for miles, from 
 one point to another, when I had to bridge the whole 
 distance, the ice being all broken up." 
 
 
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 200 
 
 EXPERIENCES OF AN OLD DOCTOR, 
 
 "How did you do that ?" 
 
 "By means of two boards, one laid in front of tl e 
 other. When 1 stepped from one board, 1 pulled up the 
 board 1 stepped off and put it down in front, and so on 
 across. Once I rc:member I came pretty near going 
 down, boards and all. I tell you I had to lay my bridge 
 and get over it just about as lively as anything you 
 ever saw." 
 
 "I am not a church member, and yet I have been 
 immersed in Lake Erie often enough to have made me 
 one several times over." 
 
 "I crossed the lake once when the ice was very 
 treacherous. I carried in my hand a long pike-pole, 
 and picked my way carefully for a time. At last, 
 I got careless, and being in a hurry did not 
 watch my footing, when all at once the ice gave way 
 beneath my feet and in I went. The long ends of the 
 pole saved me, catching on the ice and holding me waist 
 deep in the water. With the energy of desperation I 
 grasped the pike-pole and threw myself right over it, 
 landing upon the ice. The weather was intensely cold, 
 and when I reached shore my clothes were frozen stiff 
 and covered with ice like a coat of mail.'* 
 
 " 'You look as if you had been in the lake,' ob- 
 served a man whom I happened to meet." 
 
 " 'Maybe I have,' 1 replied, and hurried on to the 
 nearest house." 
 
 At this po'nt the departure of the mail cutter for 
 Port Clinton caused a break in the narrative, and but- 
 toning up his overcoat the doctor hurried away to visit 
 a patient upon an adjacent island. 
 
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 A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 
 
 11 
 
 
 Trip With the Island Mail 
 
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 Most persons who read tlie newspapers take a 
 lively interest in txtiting tales of clangers and escapes 
 told by adventurers in remote western wilds, in moun- 
 tain fastnesses, among Alaskan glaciers, or mayhap 
 with train robbers on the night express, with floods 
 earthquakes, blow-ups and blow-outs of all descrip- 
 tions. 
 
 As "distance lends enchantment," so a glamour of 
 romance is thrown upon these distant occurrences, 
 investing each detail with an abnormal interest, 
 while oft-times within one's immediate neitj^hbor- 
 hood perilous ventures and hair-breadth escapes 
 from danirer and death are made but never recorded. 
 No better illustration along this line could be cited 
 than is furnished by the United States mail service in 
 operation between the Lake Erie islands and points on 
 the mainland during the winter season. Few occupa- 
 tions, indeed, could be fraught with more real hard- 
 ship and precarious undertaking, and only the hardiest 
 of that hardy race of amphibians who inhabit 
 the archipelago, will incur the risk and respons- 
 ibility attaching to the position of mail carrier, despite 
 the very liberal pecuniary inducements offered by 
 Uncle Sam. 
 
 The experience of a "landlubb'^r" who once got 
 
 
 
202 
 
 A PER/LOUS ADVENTURE. 
 
 stranded upon the islands, is one among scores of 
 stories which might be rehited in connection with the 
 island mail service. The adventurer who lived in a 
 thriving inland city, had been necessitated by urgent 
 business to visit Isle St. George — the most northerly 
 of the Bass group. 
 
 Fresh from the noise and enterprise of busy streets 
 the little lone isle wrapped in its wintry environments 
 appeared to the stranger most desolate and forlorn. 
 He had intended remaining over night only, but in two 
 hours after his arrival a nor'easter, one of the heaviest 
 that ever struck the islands, swooped down w'th a 
 fury that sent people flying to their houses, birds and 
 animals to coverts wherever afforded, and made the 
 fisherman's cot, wherein the visitor had taken refuge, 
 rock upon its foundations. The wind blew a sixty 
 miles an hour gale, and the lake, which had been frozen 
 over, was broken up by the mighty sweep of the hur- 
 ricane. The sea was tremendous. By its force, 
 masses of ice wtc lifted and flung high upon the 
 shores to weatherward, when drenched by surf and 
 frozen together, they formed vast solid ridges and 
 ranges of ice hills, arched, pillared and corniced 
 like the facade of a northern iceberg, and rising in 
 places to a height of forty feet. Spray swept in 
 showers across adjacent lands, coating heavily with 
 ice rocks, trees, shrubbery and all objects within a 
 hundred yards of shore. Snow blew in horizontal 
 lines. The roar of the wind and crash of the ice were 
 terrific, and the scene presented was one of sub- 
 limity. 
 
 For three days the stranger was storm-bound upon 
 
js of 
 h the 
 in a 
 rgent 
 herly 
 
 treets 
 nenls 
 irlorn. 
 n two 
 aviest 
 vith a 
 Is and 
 de the 
 efuge, 
 L sixty 
 frozen 
 e hur- 
 force, 
 ion the 
 and 
 and 
 niced 
 ing in 
 ept in 
 with 
 thin a 
 zontal 
 e were 
 [ sub- 
 
 d upon 
 
 is 
 
 >r 
 
 A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 
 
 203 
 
 the island. Anxious ones at home awaited his return, 
 wondering at his long absence. Damaged by ice, the 
 wires of the telegraph cable would not work and he 
 could send them no message, and so on the third night 
 the storm having abated, he resolved to seize the first 
 opportunity of escape from his forced exile. 
 
 The carrier left on the following morning with the 
 mail— long delayed — and our adventurer was duly on 
 hand ready to accompan}- him as a "passenger" to the 
 mainland. The mail-boat, gotten up to order, was a 
 solidly built yawl with an exterior covering of sheet 
 iron, and furnished with short, narrow runners. 
 
 A motley crowd gathered at the island postoffice 
 to see the carrier off with his party, and rlown the 
 frozen ice banks they were soon plunging to the Jake. 
 The passenger, U. S. mail pouch and expressage were 
 stowed in the stern, while the carrier and his as- 
 sistants attired in water-tight suits and rubber boots 
 managed the boat. 
 
 The entire network of inlets, bays and channels 
 was packed throughout with heavy ice drift. The 
 surface was frozen, but not sufficiently to bear a man, 
 so that a passage for the boat had to be broken and 
 cleared with pike poles. It was hard work and tedi- 
 ous and the distance between Isle St. George and 
 Middle Bass seemed interminable. Lines of drift four 
 or five feet deep barred the way at some points across 
 which — it being impossible to force a channel — the 
 boat was drawn and pushed, all the men disembarking 
 for the purpose, save the passenger, who being unused 
 to the situation was ordered to keep his seat as the 
 surest means of keeping out of the way. 
 
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 5 
 
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 '1 
 
 :. .?: 
 
 11 
 
 
 
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 204 
 
 A PERIL OUS AD VENTURE. 
 
 The ice was most treatlierous. The waves had 
 broken, pulverized and rolled it into perfectly round 
 balls of all sizes from a lemon to immense spherical 
 bodies many feet in diameter. These ball-like masses 
 were liable to crumble beneath the feet at any mo- 
 ment. There were deep holes and fissures where 
 water appeared and crumbling ice obliged the men to 
 hastily grasp and climb into the boat. The surface, 
 too, was broken with icy knobs and sharp spines 
 rising \\\^ in places, and here even the passenger was 
 required to land that the boat might be gotten over 
 with less exertion. The experience was new and 
 novel to the stranger. It was likewise depressing and 
 made him wonder vaguely whether he would ever 
 see home again. In fact he would have parted with a 
 snug sum to have been safe once more en the mainland. 
 
 Middle Bass was reached; two men and a team 
 were waiting to convey the party to the postofiice, 
 where another mail pouch and more expressage were 
 shipped. They were soon again on their way toward 
 the eastern extremity of Put-in-Bay. The channel 
 between these islands was even more difficult of pass- 
 age. The ice had been wildly tossed and deeply 
 drifted. Contorted images of mottled marble menaced, 
 and berg-like masses confronted them. Approaching 
 shore, the drift rose several feet above the lake 
 surface. It was full of seams and cavernous hollows, 
 and a mass giving way the boat suddenly reared and 
 plunged bow foremost into the opening. The pass- 
 enger, mailbags and express matter were as suddenly 
 shot from stern to stem, where they lay in a confused 
 mass. Two men went into the water to the girdle, 
 
A PERfLOUS ADVENTURE, 
 
 205 
 
 the other to his neck. Then and there was a squirm- 
 ing time, but men and boat subsequently fisiied each 
 other out, and got righted, and wet, cold and hungry, 
 they reached shore about noon. Here the mail boat, 
 by which they had crossed, was left for the return 
 trip. At this place a second iron-sheeted boat like the 
 first had been left on the beath, which the carrier had 
 purposed transporting to the opposite .*-ide of the isl- 
 and to connect between Put-in- liay and the peninsula; 
 but the boat had disappeared, having been buried ten 
 feet deep under the drift ice which ridged the shore. 
 Fortunately the exact spot where it lay was known* 
 and although the men protested against the long, 
 laborious task the carrier insisted upon digging it out- 
 Axes, picks and shovels were procuretl from adjacent 
 houses, and after two hours' hard work the boat was 
 dragged forth. With mail bags, pike poles and pass- 
 enger, it was loaded upon an islander's wagon and con- 
 veyed to its destination. 
 
 At the Bay villa<je the man who had taken an in- 
 voluntary bath exchanged some of his wet garments 
 for others furnished, and dinner with hot coffee was 
 partaken of with a relish. Mere the third and heaviest 
 mail bag was received with more expressage. Two 
 more "passengers" anxious to reach the main shore 
 wished to join the carrier, but were intimidated by re- 
 ports of the bad going and gave it up. A crowd saw 
 them off. The day was wearing along ami the carrier 
 hastened, realizing something of the dithculty yet 
 ahead. Several miles of lake were still to be jjfotten 
 over, with the prospect of having to break and force a 
 passage the most of the way. 
 
 'Jl 
 
A PERIL OUS AD VENTURE . 
 
 m 
 
 'J.i 'i ! 
 
 The ice was found to be in a most precarious con- 
 dition, In many places it was too tough U) break 
 without great effort, yet not solid enough to bear men 
 and boat, and was constantly crumbling beneath their 
 feet. 
 
 To make matters worse, the wind freshened and 
 began blowing a strong gale from the west. Clouds 
 which had skurried al)(3Ut early in the tliy thickened, 
 and snow brgan fiyi g with prospects of m >re to fol- 
 low. The passenger grew seri(»usly alarmed; he was 
 also benumbed with cold, and to keep from freezing 
 begged to be allowed a part in wielding the pike poles 
 and propelling the boat. The wind continued and the 
 ice broke and began running heavily before it. Angu- 
 kir masses ground their sharp points against the boat's 
 sides with a force, which, but for its iron mailing, 
 would have shattered it. Midway of the channel they 
 got fast in a running drift and were carried eastward 
 several miles before they could extricate themselves. 
 One of the men had broken in and was wet to the 
 shoulders, while the others were nearly exhausted. To 
 intensify the unpleasantness snow began falling so 
 thickly as to entirely blot from view the land. The 
 carrier felt in all his pockets for the compass which he 
 usually carried, but found that he had forgotten to 
 bring it. Twilight was then falling and darkness came 
 on apace. Lights were invisible from shore and the 
 party realized that they were lost on the running ice, 
 in the night and whirling snow. They were nearly 
 dead from fatigue but struggled on, not knowing 
 whether they headed shoreward or out into the open 
 lake. While assisting m working the boat through a 
 
A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 
 
 m 
 
 tough gorge our hero, the hindlul:)ber, got into the 
 water over head and ears, and being less dexterous 
 than liis companions narrowly esiaped being carried 
 away under the ice. He was badly frightened and 
 more dead than alive, but a heavy dose of brandy from 
 a pocket flask served to restore him. There was no 
 moon. Clouds shut out the starlight and wind and 
 snow cut painfully. In this sad dilemma an idea struck 
 the carrier. The wind had been blowing from the 
 west and was probably in the same direction. 
 
 "Why not steer by the wind?" This suggestion 
 was acted upon. Another hour passed when to their 
 intense relief the snow ceased falling and a light became 
 visible. Shouts were sent up and soon an answer came 
 back and lanterns twinkled close by. The carrier and 
 his party were helped ashore by men who came out to 
 meet them. They did not know their whereabouts, 
 but found that they had landed a few miles ':eyond the 
 point for which they had aimed. 
 
 A steaming hot supper served before a rollicking 
 fire in a shore dweller's kitchen reanimated the ex 
 hausted party, and an hour later they were whirled 
 away to the nearest depot, arriving just in time to 
 catch the outgoing express. 
 
 Our landlubber was undoubtedly the happiest and 
 most thankful man on the train, but the island mail 
 reached Sandusky too late that night for deliver}'. 
 
 I ■ 1 
 
 if 
 
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 ')■•'«■ 
 
 ■■■4'*' 
 
 iiii 
 
 : hi 
 
 
 
KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 And Her Resources* 
 
 T :.! 
 
 A condensed vet comprehensive historv of Kelley 
 Island, once given by an old resident of the Bas-; 
 group, runs as follows: 
 
 "In the beginning Kelley Island was eaten up by 
 rattlesnakes. You could harvest them by the wagon 
 load, and the varmints held high carnival. Then came 
 old Ben Napier, the pioneer of the archipelago. Old 
 Ben turned lo *se a drove of hogs on tl;e island, iind 
 the hogs ate up the rattlesnakes. Next, the Kelley 
 family, alighted on the spot, and ihe Kclleys ate up the 
 hogs. Then came the Dutch, and the Dutch ate up 
 the' Kelley s." 
 
 This, according to the narrator, completed the 
 history of Kelley Island. It is sincerely hoped that 
 this bit of pleasantry, or unple.isantry, on the part of 
 a cynical puns.er may not be laid up against the per- 
 petrator, as he is now dead and gone to his reward. 
 
 The above historical representation is in reality a 
 compliment in disguist, marking, as it does, the varied 
 stages throu<(h which the island has passed, and indi- 
 cating like a steam gauge the irrepressible energy and 
 enterprise which has distinguished from early days its 
 inhabitants. A more detailed account of the island, 
 its history and pi ogress, will be intere^:ting neverthe- 
 less in this connection, for like her sister isles, much of 
 
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 '4 
 
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KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 209 
 
 reminiijcent interest and pleasing romance attaches 
 thereto. 
 
 Kelley Island enjoys the distinction of being the 
 largest of the lake group belonging to Uncle Sam. It 
 lies in a southeasterly direction about eight miles from 
 Put-in-Bay, and almost directl}^ north of Sandusky- 
 The bay-indented shores and rock-ribbed surface* 
 diversified by vineyards, orchards and natural forest, 
 as seen at Kelley Island, afford ample stretches of 
 strikingly picturesque and beautiful scenery. Her re- 
 sources are varied and profitable, and her population 
 intelligent and thrifty. 
 
 Several separate series of early settlers are recorded 
 as havin<r made at various times the island their home, 
 competing with the dusky aborigines for its possession, 
 each in tuiii yielding to its prioi claimants or succumb- 
 ing to other incidental difliculties, and retiring to give 
 place to new batcnes of adventurers. This, it seems, 
 continued up to the war of '12, when the few white 
 settlers then represented were driven away by the 
 menacing" attitude of hostile Indians. Durinji the war 
 
 k 
 
 the island, it is recorded, was made a military rendez- 
 vous, Gen. Harrison, then commanding the Army of 
 the Northwest, having stationed on the west sliore a 
 guard for the purpose of reconnoitering the move- 
 ments of the British and Indians on the lake. As late 
 as 1828 tlie cedar tent-stakes marking the encampment 
 of this guard were still standing. 
 
 According to historians., the squadron of Commo- 
 dore Perry lay for a time in the harbor south of the 
 island previous to its engagement with the British. 
 Wiiile there, Perry received on board his flagship Gen. 
 
 
 I, 
 
 ii 
 
 
 
 '%.^ 
 
r 
 
 I 'ill 
 
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 IIP' 
 
 f; 
 
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 fii-iii 
 
 ■.•■j 
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 !/i.! 
 
 210 
 
 KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 Harrison and Gens. Cass and McArthur, who came to 
 consult the naval commander concerning his plan of 
 action. The battle of Lake Erie in 1813 practically 
 ended the war, and permanently settled a<^ the same 
 time both the British and hidians. The red-skins 
 skulked away in alarm after the defeat of their allies, 
 and as far as authentic records show ne^er again re- 
 turned on sinister motives bent. 
 
 With the passing of the red man and his supremacy 
 in the archipelago came more adventurers. 
 
 The pretentions of modern aristocracy were then 
 unknown to the Kelley islander; his dwelling, never- 
 theless, was solidly and entirely constructed of red 
 cedar, and the cutting and shipping of this rare and 
 valuable wood formed an industry of no mean import- 
 ance. 
 
 In the interests of Kelley Island prominently figured 
 about that time a primitively constructed steamer, the 
 "Walk-in-the- Water." This steamer, built in 1818, 
 was the first that ever plowed the waters of the lake, 
 and not only as a marvel of inventive genius, but as a 
 most important adjunct of his commercial interests, 
 was she regarded by the Kelley Island denizen. There 
 were no docks to facilitate the landing of vessels, and 
 the then reigning prince of the isle — Killam by name — 
 carried in his sailboat loads of red cedar to the Walk- 
 in-the-Water as she lay at anchor. Some of this 
 timber, cut into suitable lengths, was used to fire the 
 steamer's engine, for in those days there was cedar "to 
 burn." 
 
 The career of the Walk-in-the- Water was, how- 
 ever, brief. After two years' service she was wrecked 
 
1;! 
 
 KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 211 
 
 , (. 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF SHORE. 
 
 and lost off Point Albino. This destroyed the cedar 
 trade at Kellev Island and disheartened Killam, who 
 soon after left with all his belongings. After Killam's 
 departure followed a period cf six years in which the 
 island, as far as known, was destitute of any perma- 
 nent inhabitants, though adventurers occasionally vis- 
 ited it. 
 
 Notwithstanding its almost complete desertion, the 
 island became productive of a tragedy during this period, 
 a review of which caused to contract with horror the 
 spinal vertebrjA3 of occupants who came after. The 
 parties to this affair were Grummets and Barnum. 
 These companions in solitude quarreled. Barnum shot 
 tmd killed Grummets, and disposed of the mangled 
 body by placing it in a leaky skiff and sett:n<^ it adrift. 
 The wind carried tlie boat out into the open lake, where 
 it sank with its ghastly freight. 
 
 Ante-dating this occurrence, according to local tra- 
 
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 5l 
 
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212 
 
 KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 i 
 
 1 !■ 
 
 s 
 i' 
 
 dition, an adventurer lived on the island with his wife 
 and boy, the only inhabitants, but in mid winter, wife 
 and child were suddenly stricken by death. The solitary 
 mourner performed for them unaided the last sad rites, 
 rounding with his own hands their graves; after which, 
 unable in his grief and loneliness to endure the spot, he 
 left it, never to return. 
 
 In 1826 Elisha Ellis and his wife effected a settle- 
 ment on the island. A little later they were joined by 
 Samuel Beardsley and wife. They occupied one house, 
 and were the sole inhabitants up to 182S, when Mrs. 
 Beardsley died. She was buried on the shore, but her 
 grave was afterward washed away by the rising waters 
 of the lake, with that of a young woman — one Mary 
 Kellogg — who came to the island in 1829, died soon 
 after and was buried beside Mrs. Beardsley. , 
 
 . During the winter of 1829 and '30 Mr. and Mrs. 
 Ellis, Henry Elilhorpe and an individual known as 
 "Tinker Smith" formed, it is said, the total population 
 of the island. It was therefore a decided boom for the 
 place when in the summer of 1830 three additional 
 families moved thereon. 
 
 Somewhere about the year 1833 a mimic lord, in 
 the person of a French trapper named Ben Napier, 
 tried to appropriate the archipelago, or that portion at 
 least included in Put-in- Bay and Kelley Islands. By 
 what fancied right this pioneer squatter sought to assert 
 and maintain his monarchical reign does not now ap- 
 pear; sutllce to say that he made himself very much 
 at home and very numerous in both places, and gave 
 the individuals who afterward came into possession of 
 these islands a lot of trouble. 
 
KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 213 
 
 Accordin^r to local legend, old Ben lived on the 
 flesh of swine, fowls of the air and fish. The fowls 
 and fish were supplied by the woods and waters, while 
 the swine were bred in large droves by the squatter, 
 and led a "root-hog-or-die" existence, fattening upon 
 acorns and other forage, or growing lean, hungry and 
 savage when the desired grub was lacking. When- 
 ever JJen wanted meat he climbed a tree, taking with 
 him his gun, and ensconced among the branches awaited 
 the appearance of these wild porkers, and when a drove 
 came within range he blazed away at the largest and 
 plumpest. He thus kept his table supplied with fresh 
 pork cutlets, ham and spare ribs, and grew corre- 
 spondingly fat and saucy; and neither by threats nor 
 coaxing could he be induced to relinquish his luxurious 
 mode of life, nor to depart from the island. Like the 
 hogs which he ate, he became very pugnacious. He 
 appropriated to himself in high-handed style the prop- 
 erty of his neighbors, and only by legal measures was 
 he finally ousted. 
 
 For the first time since its occupation by whites 
 the island was then permanently settled, having become 
 after some litigation the property of Irad Kelley, of 
 Cleveland, and Datus Kelley, of Rock port. 
 
 With the days of primitive savagery and lawless 
 piracy at an end, dawned a new era of individual but 
 legalized prosperity. Up to this date the island had 
 been known as "Cunningham Island," so failed after 
 its first occupant, an Indian trader who flourished there 
 before the wai of 1812; but A'ith its survey and final 
 transfer, it was rechristened and placed upon the record 
 books as Kelley Island— a name which has become as 
 
 111 
 
 i : .,{ Jii, 
 
 'A 
 
 "■X'. 
 
 
 IM 
 
 ff : m 
 
 
 '■■■'■■'i'il 
 
 
 
 
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 * II 
 
214 
 
 KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 STREET LOCKING NORTH. 
 
 widely known and as permanently established as that 
 of the family from which it was derived. 
 
 Impressed with the belief that the place was destined 
 to figure as a prominent commercial center, the Kelley 
 brothers began at once making improvements in the 
 way of dock building, in order to facilit.ite the landing 
 of vessels and the shipment of building stone, lime and 
 red cedar — the island being rich in these natural prod- 
 ucts. They sought also to encourage an extension of 
 its population by settlement of lands, and with this 
 object in view placed on sale at fair prices, lots and 
 parcels of their possessions. Many purchases of homes 
 were made, and the island speedily became settled by a 
 class of people whose chief characteristics were saga- 
 city, industry, and thrift. 
 
 The ample bay on the south shore afforded a safe 
 
KELLEy ISLAND. 
 
 215 
 
 that 
 
 safe 
 
 anchorage for vessels passing up and down the lake, 
 and the docks and warehouses were filled with mer- 
 chandise of divers sorts. Cosy cottages appeared 
 which in time gave place to more pretentious dwell- 
 ings; and churches, school houses, hotels and other 
 buildings, both public and private, arose to attest the 
 growing prospe ity. 
 
 The forests of cedar long siuce disappeared before 
 the woodman's ax. With them the trade in cedar 
 wood became a reminiscence, but not until it had 
 materially contributed to the wealth of the island 
 inhabitants. However, ihe stone and lime interests 
 have since developed into large proportions. Dt;rricks 
 are numerous, large forces of men are employed in the 
 quarries, and the Kelley Island Lime & Transport 
 Company carries on extensive operations along these 
 lines. After a glance at the vast areas of quarried and 
 corded stone, and the outcropping ledges remaining, 
 the island as a whole suggests itself as a single big 
 lime rock, with a layer of earth spread over it. 
 
 The culture of grapes and manufacture of wine are 
 carried on extensively. Among horticulturists of prom- 
 inence are mentioned the names of the Kelleys, Charles 
 Carpenter and others. 
 
 Like adjacent members of the group, Kelley [sland 
 has latterly become prominent as a summer report, 
 which is shown by her summer hotels and cottages 
 for the entertainment of summer people. 
 
 The island is likewise noted for its important geo- 
 logical formations, as veil as for its Indian antiquities, 
 either of which would be sufficient in itself to render 
 the island famous. A description of the former is 
 
 
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 ■'.''i!;. 
 
 1 
 
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 51-: 
 
 ywk 
 
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216 
 
 KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 
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 ■■»■■■■ ^'-'■'^^■'fl 
 
 i 
 
 
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 i 
 
 
 
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 BAYSIDE COTTAGE. 
 
 elsewhere given 
 in this volume 
 under the head- 
 ing: " Some In- 
 teresting Geolog- 
 ical Features." 
 
 Concerning the 
 latter, the re- 
 searches of anti- 
 quarians have 
 resulted in some 
 important discoveries. That the island formed a fav- 
 ored haunt o f the red tribes i s evidenced by the 
 
 ancient mounds, fortifications and other remains. 
 
 The grounds now occupied by the residence of 
 Addison Kelley are supposed to have formed anciently 
 the site of an extensive Indian village; pottery, pipes 
 and other articles, and implements of Indian manufac 
 ture, such as ancient grindstones, tomahawks and 
 hatchets, being there found in abundance. 
 
 Remains of earthworks are numerous, the most 
 extensive being found on the Huntington property, 
 inclosing an area of nearly seven acres. 
 
 The most interesting relics of this vanished race, 
 however, take shape in what are known as "Inscrip- 
 tion Rocks" — two in number — one of which, located 
 on the north shore, contains sculptured pipe-smoking 
 figures. The second and most famous lies in the 
 water's edge, near the steamboat wharves. The rock 
 is 32 feet long, 21 wide, and rises about 11 feet above 
 the water. It was originally discovered in 1833 by 
 Charles Olmstead of Connecticut, while studying the 
 
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 lume 
 lead- 
 In- 
 )log. 
 
 rthe 
 re- 
 jnti- 
 lave 
 ome 
 fav- 
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 rip- 
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 ock 
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 by 
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 UI 
 
 KEFJ.FA' ISLAND. 
 
 .?■-»-■ 
 
 217 
 
 |:' 
 
 HONEY-COMB ROCKS. 
 
 :j.l 
 
 <,^rooveH. 
 
 C 
 
 oncerniniT 
 
 tl 
 
 lis roc 
 
 we CO 
 
 py 
 
 an 
 
 glacial 
 
 authority as follows: 
 
 "It i«? a part of the same stratification as the island 
 from which it has been separated by lake action. The 
 top 
 1 
 
 rese 
 mestone 
 
 nl 
 
 ts a smooth r jd polished surface, like all the 
 of this section when the soil is removed, sug- 
 gesting the idea of glacial action. Upon this the in- 
 scriptions are cut. The figures and devices are deeply 
 sunk in the rock, Schoolcraft's Indian Antiquities says 
 of it: 
 
 
 I ^ 
 
■■■ -.'jri v 5^ ,-^.— -v.-- 
 
 218 
 
 KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 , 
 
 
 1 
 
 "*" .«»- 
 
 ^fl 
 
 f 
 
 \ 
 
 TMiMIMIlii 
 
 ^aEjgjJiiEJ^ 
 
 ^^ rtai.i=*JiS 
 
 .jjjfjwi^^^^^ 
 
 
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 rv--^ 
 
 ^^^''-*^^*^^j^^i«i&, 
 
 
 
 ^f^i: 
 
 
 
 
 
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 -f-7-.-. ■■,..% .; , 
 
 
 
 INSCRIPTION ROCK. 
 
 ! J 
 
 " 'It is by far the most extensive, best sculptured and 
 best preserved inscription of the antiquarian period 
 ever found in America. It is in the picture-graphic 
 character of the natives. Its leading symbols are 
 readily interpreted. The human figures, the pipe- 
 smoking groups and other figures denote tribes, nego- 
 tiations, crimes and turmoils which tell a story of 
 thrilling interest connected with the occupation of this 
 section by the Eries, of the coming of the Wyandots, 
 of the final triumph of the Iroquois and flight of the 
 people who have left their name on the lake. In 185 1 
 drawings of these inscriptions were made by Col. 
 Eastman, U. S. Army, who was detailed by the gov- 
 ernment at Washington to examine them, on the rep- 
 resentation of Gen. Meigs, who had previously ex- 
 amined them. Copies of the inscriptions were made 
 and submitted to Shingvauk, an Indian learned in 
 
■''^ 
 
 KELLEY ISLAND. 
 
 219 
 
 Indian picturegrapby, and who had interpreted prior 
 inscriptions submitted to him.' " 
 
 Through the aid of a chart kindly furnished the 
 writer of this sketch by a lady resident of the island, 
 many characters on the great rock were plainly de- 
 ciphered, but the action of the elements and footstep*; 
 of the many adventurers and curio htrnters who for 
 years have made it th4i Mecca of their pilgrimages 
 have worn its pictured surface; and unless some means 
 are taken for their restoration and preserviintion, these 
 inscriptions wi'i in time be obliteratc^d. 
 
 I'lS 
 
 '': i'- 
 
 nego- 
 |ory of 
 if this 
 ndots, 
 of the 
 
 Col. 
 
 gov- 
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'^ECHO:'^ THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
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 CHAPTEF< I. 
 
 The Untutored Savagfe and His Haunts. 
 
 At that period of American history when all the 
 vast country to the South, North and West of Lake 
 Erie formed a wilderness almost untrodden by the 
 white man, opens our story. Where busy marts of 
 trade and thriving villages now stand, then appeared 
 the wigwa :.s of tribal chiefs and burned their council 
 fires. Where fertile farming lands and orchards 
 stretch, and cosy cots and pretentious dwellings are 
 seen, slept undisturbed by echoes of civilized Hfe 
 forests primeval. 
 
 The wind's solemn roar in the mighty woods, 
 the howl and bark, the snap and snarl of wild beasts, 
 and the savage warrior's whoop were sounds then 
 most familiar. Reptiles swarmed in the dark swamps. 
 Tall grasses and underbrush formed a rendezvous for 
 crouching panthers, and strange birds, congregated in 
 flocks innumerable amongst thickly crowding branches, 
 set everything agog with their shrieking notes. 
 
 Painted, feathered and picturesquely attired in the 
 barbaric costume of his race, the red savage watched 
 from his accustomed hilltops year by year the sun rise 
 and set, and the moons come and go, still holding in 
 undisputed possession his title as "Monarch of the 
 Wilderness." 
 
''ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN, 
 
 221 
 
 About this time there lived a chieftain named 
 Tawapsett, a representative of the Seneca tribe, and a 
 branch of the once powerful Iroquois. 
 
 Tawapsett was skilled in war, and so true his aim 
 that a bird on the wing could he cleave with his feath- 
 ered arrow. For many years on the banks of a stream 
 he had pitched his wigwam; he was honored by his 
 followers and many braves of other tribes smoked by 
 his campfire the pipe of peace, and listened with interest 
 and admiration to the thrilling stories of adventure told 
 by him of his ai?.cestors. 
 
 Tawapsett had an only daughter, of whom he was 
 very proud, who bore the name Wineska. In that rare 
 type of beauty peculiar to her race, the maiden was per- 
 fect. None among all the women of the tribe were 
 deemed us beautiful as she. Black as night, her long 
 hair f«^ll in shining masses over shapely shoulders. 
 Faultless were her features, with a complexion bright 
 aid glowing, and a flash in her dark eyes like that of 
 an eagle. A lithe form and a step light as a fawn's were 
 hers. A robe of scarlet covered with beaded decora- 
 tions fell in folds about her, and a necklace and brace- 
 lets richly wrought encircled neck and arms. The 
 maiden possessed various accomplishments. She was 
 skillful at beadwork, embroidery, and the forming of 
 strange and novel designs in colored quills of the por- 
 cupine. She was gifted also with a clear and richly 
 modulated voice and the songs which she sang entranced 
 the listener and awoke among the hills the echo. Thus 
 it transpired that her father, the chieftain, resolved to 
 change her name, and henceforth she was known as 
 "Echo." 
 
 
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 222 
 
 'ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 Among the many admirers of this lovely maiden 
 was a youthful chief — an Algonquin — named Mokego. 
 Having once been subjugated by the Iroquois, the two 
 tribes were on no very amicable footing, and Mokego^ 
 the young Algonquin, was strictly prohibited from 
 making advances toward the daughter of Tawapsett. 
 To make matters worse, "Echo" manifested a positive 
 disHke for Mokego, and in a fit of rage and despair the 
 chieftain resolved by fair means or foul to possess the 
 maiden. 
 
 With a body of warriors he stealthily approached 
 the camp of the Iroquois chief, near which they secreted 
 themselves in a dense thicket. Here Mokego recon- 
 noitered, awaiting a favorable opportunity of making a 
 descent, or still better, of kidnapping the daughter of 
 Tawapsett and bearing her away to his tribe. 
 
 Tawapsett and his sons, together with the warriors 
 by whom he was surrounded, combined so much of 
 courage and strength, however, that the heart of 
 Mokego failed. He dared not attack the Iroquois and 
 so he lay m ambush watching when and how he might 
 carry out his designs. On the second day, accompanied 
 by a number of squaws. Echo was seen wending her 
 way along the banks of the stream. Its course led near 
 the ambuscade. They were at some distance from the 
 camp of Tawapsett, and wholly ignorant of danger, 
 were conversing in their native tongue, when a rustle 
 of leaves startled them. Several Algonquins sprang 
 from among the trees and seizing Echo bore her away. 
 The outcry of the frightened women aroused the camp, 
 and immediately the war cry of Tawapsett and his men 
 resounded through the forest. It wao answered defi- 
 
''ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 228 
 
 mors 
 ich of 
 art of 
 Dis and 
 might 
 anied 
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 |anger, 
 rustle 
 prang 
 away, 
 camp, 
 s men 
 defi- 
 
 antly by the band of Mokego, as mounted on swift 
 ponies they dashed away with their prize. For several 
 hours they rode at the highest rate of speed possible 
 over the rough ground and through the thick under- 
 brush. Discerning no signs of pursuit and believing 
 themselves entirely out of the enemy's way, they finally 
 halted to rest their ponies. They secured Echo by 
 fastening her with cords to a tree, built a fire of dry 
 ^imbs and prep ired to roast a deer slain by their arrows. 
 
 With characteristic cunning Tawapsett had fol- 
 lowed them stealthily but closely. So guarded were 
 his movements that not a suspicion thereof was enter- 
 tained by the pursued party. 
 
 The latter had finished their repast of venison and 
 were about to retake themselves to their ponies when 
 a terrific yell burst from the forest. They were sur- 
 rounded upon all sides, and a ohower of leaden bullets 
 and arrows began pouring upon them. A desperate 
 fight ensued, in which nearly all of Mokego's band 
 were killed and scalped; himself and two or three war- 
 riors only escaping. Echo was borne back to her 
 father's v^igwam, while the vanquished Mokego vowed 
 vengeance upon the Iroquois, resolving to have at 
 sometime the chieftain's scalp and to secure at any cost 
 the beautiful maiden. In this manner beixan a feud 
 between the Iroquois and Algonquins which had lasted 
 for more than seventy moons and was still bitter, when 
 through that portion of the Indian country began cir- 
 culating rumors that the aggressive "pale faces" had 
 appeared; that hordes of them were coming from be- 
 yond the Alleghenies of the east and were settling 
 almost in their midst, that they were levelling the 
 
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 224 
 
 ''ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
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 forests, dispersing the game and encroaching in various 
 ways. At campfire and council meetings these move- 
 ments were fully discussed and many of the older and 
 more sagacious received the intelligence with many 
 grimaces and dubious shakes of the head. 
 
 Time passed, and still the ax of the pioneer continued 
 its ravages. Small villages and trading posts sprang up 
 as if by magic, and the red man trembled for his title of 
 supremacy held by him through unnumbered centuries. 
 Then came additional rumors of war and commotion, 
 penetratmg the dim wilderness and awakening new 
 wonder and appiehension. A powerful n;ition, it was 
 said, on the further side of the Atlantic had sent over 
 its fleets and armies for the purpose of conquering the 
 white nation on this side. Soon from end to end of the 
 lake came news of musterings. Regiments and brigades 
 of armed whites —British and American — were on the 
 march, and great ships swarming with men and laden 
 with terrible munitions of war were seen on the lake. 
 Regarding as the red man's natural enemy the whites, 
 whose customs so differed from their own, and whose 
 interests were so antagonistic, Tawapsett cherished for 
 them only jealousy and hatred, and gathering about 
 him his braves he thus addressed them : 
 
 "Sons of the Storm Cloud and Tempest: — You 
 have heard of the great chiefs who command the two 
 nations of pale faces now at war. One has come eagle- 
 winged over the waters of the rising sun. He is soar- 
 ing in the sky and soon will swoop down upon the vul- 
 ture chief whose subjects overrun our lands and spoil 
 our hunting grounds." 
 
 "While they mangle a id destroy each other let the 
 
''ECHO:'' THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 225 
 
 Sons of the Storm Cloud and Tempest swear by our 
 own great chieftains whose spirits have flown to the 
 happy hunting grounds, to stand ready when the time 
 comes to kill, burn and disperse from among us the 
 carrion fiends of the vulture chief." 
 
 "The Great Spirit, source of life, will provide for 
 the squaw and papoose of the red man and will charm 
 away the evil spirit of Defeat. Let us follow the war 
 path wherever it leads, and with us carry death and 
 confusion to the pale faces." 
 
 At the conclusion of this harangue there arose a 
 generi;! murmur of approbation, followed by the oran- 
 dishing of war clubs and tomahawks, as with pro- 
 longed yells they joined in a war dance around the 
 campfire. While thus excited and occupied, Tawapsett 
 had unconsciously relaxed the vigilance with which he 
 had been accustomed to guard his daughter from the 
 designing Algonquin. 
 
 *-Fire water," then a new and favored beverage, was 
 freely dealt, and thereby stimulated, the dance became 
 wild and weird. It was brought to an abrupt close, 
 however, by the discovery that Echo was missing from 
 the camp — for the maiden still lived in the wigwam of 
 her father, though the hand and heart of many a brave 
 had been offered her. 
 
 "The vile Algonquin has stolen her away," mut- 
 lered Tawapsett. "Let us pursue !" 
 
 It was not long before the cunning Iroquois and 
 his followers struck the trail of Mokego. Through 
 stretches of tall prairie grasses and wild rice, forest 
 and swamp land, northward they traced him to the 
 shores of Lake Erie. While his followers dispersed 
 
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 226 
 
 ''ECHOr' THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 in different directions, Mokego had placed the captive 
 in a canoe there waitin*^ and was ah'eady far out on the 
 waters, swiftly paddling- toward a long blue stretch that 
 outlined a distant island. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Life in the Log Cabin of an Island Pioneer. 
 
 Amidst dense, dark thickets of red cedar, which 
 intermingled with <. ther native forest growths coverea 
 from end to end the lonely island, appeared a small 
 clearing. Surrounded by stumps, log-heaps and 
 brush piles, were two or three rude but newly built 
 cabins forming the homes of French squatters who 
 had worked their way thither from Canada. The 
 representatives of this tiny colony were hunters 
 and traders, and at that period comprised the entire 
 white population of the island, although its shores 
 were made the rendezvous from time to time of In- 
 dians bearing half a dozen different tribal names, who 
 came and went in their bark canoes on fishing and 
 hunting excursions. From the clearing with its log 
 habitations led a path to a niche in the shore, belted at 
 its base by sand and gravel and edged with wild 
 shrubbery forming a thick covert into which were 
 drawn up and secreted boats belonging to the settlers. 
 
 The cabin of an individual who earned a livelihood 
 by trading with the Indians formed a shelter for his 
 family not only, but a storehouse in a small way for 
 
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''ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
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 -2.1 
 
 articles and commodities of Indian commerce, as well 
 as for those of the white man's production, the former 
 consisting in part of bear and deer skins, furs, wamp- 
 um, maple sugar, beads and peltry; the latter, of 
 blankets, flaxen and w oolen fabrics, rice, coffee and 
 tobacco. 
 
 The chinks between the unhewn logs of the cabin 
 were daubed with mortar made from island lime which 
 there abounded, and the chimney built of native lime 
 rock was a massive affair. The rafters were formed 
 of poles cut from straight saplings and the roof of un- 
 dressed slabs. A huge slab turning upon hinges of 
 wood and fastened by a wooden latch served as the 
 front and only door. The flooring was of puncheon, 
 roughly rived from oaken timber. A single window, 
 high and narrow, opened upon a patch of growing 
 corn and vegetables, and admitted the light through 
 paper oiled to render it transparent. Rough stools and 
 benches served as seats. A bed decorated with red 
 and yellow patch work stood in one corner and a 
 puncheon table covered with a cloth of homespun linen 
 occupied the middle of the cabin. An open cup- 
 board contamed the household stock of earthen-ware, 
 cutlery, pewter and potter}- — a limited but invaluable 
 collection. Shelves ranged along one side of the apart- 
 were laden with the merchandise of which mention 
 has been made. 
 
 The walls fairly bristled with pegs which were 
 hung with garments of "linsey-woolsey," deer skin 
 and fur, together with an array of various articles, 
 such as powder horns, stag antlers, fishing rods and 
 rifles. A few rude ornaments decorated the rude 
 
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 228 
 
 "ECHO."' THE IKOQUQIS MAIDEN, 
 
 mantel-piece, and above it in an oaken frame hung an 
 old print representing William Penn's treaty with the 
 Indians. Another household article — of too great im- 
 portance to be overlooked — was the spinning wheel. 
 
 In a w i d e- 
 mouthed chim- 
 ney blazed a fire 
 which was never 
 permitted to die. 
 Day and night it 
 flickered, flamed, 
 smouldered or 
 smoked in accord 
 with its varying 
 moods and con- 
 ditions. A sooty 
 crane swung in 
 the center, and a 
 pair of straddling, 
 w roughtir o n 
 "fire-dogs" per- 
 formed v/ell their duty in holding up the "fore- log.'' 
 A long- handled shovel and a pair of massive torjgs 
 reclined against the "jamb," and a tinder box with 
 steel and flint lay on the mantel. Hams of smoked 
 venison, bunches of dried herbs and other articles 
 and edibles dangled from the ceiling, and a long- 
 legged "Dutch oven" in which was baked the ap- 
 petizing "Johnny Cake" — smoked upon the hearth. 
 In this little world the good wife toiled day by day 
 frymg, roasting, baking, brewing, spinning, reeling. 
 Every day in answer to her conjuring, platters full of 
 
 THE CABIN HEARTH. 
 
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 ''ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 229 
 
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 wild fowl, fish and venison, steamed upon the table 
 with swimming gravies, "pone," hominy and "slap- 
 jacks." Her broad shouldered husband and his two 
 strapping sons sai down to this feast with ravenous 
 appetites, which having appeased they drank, a cup 
 each of spice wood tea or roasted rye coffee; partook 
 sparingly of the pumpkin butter, or crab-apple jelly 
 set before th<Mii as after relishes, and rose up to loosen 
 their buckskin belts and give expression in deep-drawn 
 brenths to the satisfaction which was theirs. 
 
 "Trader John," as he was called, bartered with 
 the Indians who came and went in their canoes. 
 Sometimes in a "dug out," rigged with a bear-skin 
 sail and accompanied by one of his sons, he made trips 
 across to the peninsula, where he visited the wigwams 
 of the Ottawas and Ojibways. Sometimes he directed 
 his course to the camp of the chieftdin Ogontz by 
 •'Clearwater Bay." Sometimes to Venice, then the 
 chief trading center of the shore settlers, where he ex- 
 changed his Indian wares for the products of pioneer 
 industry. 
 
 Father .r»d sons were on amicable terms with 
 most of the Inaians who frequented tl ese places, and 
 so familiar bad they become with Indian customs, 
 habits and manners as to be quite at home among 
 them. They had learned sufllciently the varied dia- 
 lects and signs in use by the different tribes, to be 
 able to hold converse with any and all individual rep- 
 resentatives thereof, and were thus fitted for their 
 chosen occupation. 
 
 During the absence of "Trader John," and the son 
 who accompanied him, the son who remained behind 
 
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 ''ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
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 worked in the clearing, hoed the corn and cut cedar 
 wood for transportation down the hike. 
 
 On one of these occasions Anatohi, the eldest, was 
 left behind. Anatola was a young man of athletic but 
 graceful build, and singularly handsome features. 
 Having wielded the ax until weary, the young man 
 took his rifle and started out in quest of game with 
 which to replenish the family board. He had tramped 
 for some time about the irland, stumbling over rocks 
 and crowding through tangles, but had dislodged 
 nothing excepting a nest of rattlesnakes. Both the 
 snakes and himself had had a hot time. He had left 
 about fifty dead upon the field, and fatigued and 
 thirsty was on h:s way to the adjacent shore for a 
 drink of water. He was just emerging from the 
 woods upon a stretch of level beach when an ap- 
 proaching canoe containing a man and woman at- 
 tracted his attention. 
 
 With that caution which, born of necessity, grew to 
 be a second nature to the early pioneer, Anatola drew 
 hastily back and secreted himself behind some bushes. 
 Peering through a small opening, he closely scanned 
 the canoe and its occupants. 
 
 A stalwart savage leaped ashore and seized the 
 woman whose hands were bound. Though at a 
 ^ distance of fifty yards, Anatola could see that she was 
 an Indian maiden of rare beauty and a captive, for she 
 cried piteously and begged to be allowed to return to 
 her tribe. Save an occasional gruff response, her 
 raptor paid no attention to these supplications, but 
 from the broken and fragmentary sentences let fall, 
 Anatola correctly inferred that he was taking her to a 
 
 II i' 
 
''ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 281 
 
 camp of Algonquins on another part of the island, 
 intending there to make her his wife. 
 
 The twain were Mokego and the daughter of 
 Tawapsett. 
 
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 CHAPTER III. 
 A Desperate Struggle. 
 
 Indignation at the perpetration of such an outrage, 
 burned in the heart of Anatola, and Sfiint the blood 
 surging to his temples. With rifle levelled he ap- 
 proached the savage. The latter was leading away 
 the dispairing girl, one hand clutching her arm, the 
 other a flint-lock musket. 
 
 "Release her !" commanded the white man, his 
 rifle aimed at Mokego's head. 
 
 "She big Indian's wife," remonstrated the latter. 
 
 "No, no; I am not his wife !" wailed the captive. 
 
 "Release her this instant or you're a dead man." 
 
 Anatola nervously fingered the trigger. The ugly, 
 painted face of the savage scowled with rage and 
 terror, but he let go his hold. 
 
 "Throw down that gun." 
 
 The wily Indian hesitated. By a rapid and 
 dextrous movement, he could bring his piece to bear 
 upon the pale face, but the latter read his thoughts 
 and kept his searching eyes upon him. Anatola's 
 finger was beginning to press the trigger. 
 
 With a half surpressed ejaculation of wrath, Mo- 
 kego threw down the gun. 
 
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 ''ECHOr THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 " Now take yourself off, you red devil !" 
 
 This command was immediately obeyed, and 
 lowering his rille, Anatola advanced to where cowered 
 the Indian girl. 
 
 Overwhelmed with gratitude to her deliverer. 
 Echo knelt before the white hunter, clasping his 
 hands, and kissing, and moistening them with tears of 
 thankfulness. 
 
 In a few words she told the story of lur abduc- 
 tion, and Anatola listened with a thrill of interest, for 
 her brilliant beauty tilled him with admiration. 
 
 ''I v/ill take you to my mother," he said. 
 
 **Nay, but to my father would I return." 
 
 "To your father will I take you, fair one, but not 
 today, for see a storm is gathering. He pointed to 
 masses of clouds which were sweeping up from the 
 horizon and to the lake, which had assumed a grass- 
 groen color. 
 
 "Yonder canoe could not live for a minute in a 
 tempest such as that which approaches." 
 
 "Haste ! let me take you to my mother." 
 
 The girl looked up into his face, reading there 
 naught but kindness and compassion, and placing her 
 hand trustfully in his, submitted to his guidance. 
 
 Not far had they gone before the storm struck 
 with terrific force. In an instant the air was filled 
 with flying limbs and trunks of trees, and rain poured 
 in sheets so that they could not see their way. 
 
 Unable to proceed, they took refuge beneath a pro- 
 jecting ledge of rocks. After a drenching shower the 
 rain ceased. The wind still blew a gale, but they 
 were now enabled to go forward and were leaving the 
 
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 ''ECHO." THE IROQUOIS MAIDEX. 
 
 233 
 
 covert, when with a backward ghince the girl uttered 
 a startled cry. Her companion abruptly turned. 
 
 With features working in a frenzy of diabolism 
 frightful to behold and tomahawk uplifted, Mokego 
 stood within six feet of the pale-face. The savage had 
 stealthily followed, and in another instant his gleaming 
 weapon would have buried itself in Anatola's skull. 
 Quick as thought he parried with his rifle the descend- 
 ing stroke. The two then clutched each other. Unable 
 to use his rifle Anatola flung it from him and gripped 
 the savage. 
 
 Mokego made several lunges at his adversary with 
 the tomahawk, but the latter managed to parry them. 
 Closely clutching each other, they were now upon the 
 edge of a rocky shore. Anatola lost his footing, and 
 togethei they roHed to the beach below, still locked in 
 a vice-like embrace. 
 
 More cunningly skillful than Anatola was the 
 Algonquin, and the former now found his strength 
 fast failing. With one arm about his neck and pressed 
 tightly against the windpipe, the savage was slowly 
 exhausting his victim by strangulation. The white 
 hunter felt as one might feel with the tentacles of a 
 devil-fish clasped about him. 
 
 He struggled desperately, the sweat drops beading 
 his forehead, but was powerless against superior skill 
 and strength. All would soon be over. 
 
 Echo had stood by, a silent and horrified spectator. 
 Seized at last by a sudden impulse, she darted forward 
 and with both hands began loosening one by one the 
 fingers that clutched the throat of Anatola. By a 
 mighty effort she succeeded in releasing from that 
 
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 234 
 
 ''ECHO:'' THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 awful death grip the pale face, and he regained his 
 breath. Echo clung desperately to the great sinewy 
 hand, with its bare, tattooed arm exposed. Thus re- 
 lieved Anatola managed to shift his position to one 
 more advantageous. Fast in his girdle hung the 
 scalping knife of Mokego. For an instant as they 
 struggled it touched Anatola's hand. Quick as thought 
 he seized it, and while the savage was endeavoring to 
 free himself from Echo's grasp the former plunged 
 the knife into Mokego's bosom. With a fiendish 
 howl fell the Algonquin. The blade had struck to the 
 heart's center, and in a few moments he was dead. 
 
 It was now Anatola's turn for gratitude to the In- 
 dian maiden, but for whom he, instead of Mokego, 
 would have been weltering upon the ground. He 
 clasped the girl's hands, and looking into each other's 
 faces, each felt that the friendship thus formed be- 
 tween them was destined to be life-long. 
 
 The white victor forebore taking ihe scalp of the 
 dead chieftain, but he removed from the waist of his 
 fallen foe a girdle — composed of human hair of vari- 
 ous shades and iextures, cut from the scalps secured 
 by its owner. With this ghastly relic, Anatola and 
 his companion left the spot. 
 
 To the Indian girl this island was familiar ground 
 as in the company of her father, as it chanced, she had 
 frequently visited it, and she now pointed out to the 
 white hunter — who at once became her lover — ancient 
 sites of Indir,n villages and forts, and a massive rock- 
 tablet extensively covered with characters and sym- 
 bols centuries old sculptured on its face. The^e, as 
 she explained, told the story of the ancient Eries, who 
 
,1f 
 
 ''ECHOr' THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 235 
 
 had given their name to the lake and the wars in 
 which they had engaged ; of the coming of the Wyandots, 
 their dispersion and the final triumph of her people, the 
 Iroquois. 
 
 So cittached to the maiden had Anatola grown 
 that within a few hours after their first meeting he 
 asked her to become his wife. Echo hesitated. 
 
 "The white hunter's people will not receive me," 
 she replied. 
 
 "Many French-Canadian hunters and traders take 
 Indian wives," returned Anatola, 
 
 "Then be it as you say." Thus plighted was 
 their troth. 
 
 For three days raged the gale that had struck the 
 island immediately after Mokego and his captive had 
 landed upon it. At the end of that period came a lull, 
 and while Echo remained in the cabin, her white 
 lover went abroad to hunt and to fish. On his return 
 he found the little settlement in violent commotion. 
 During his absence a party of Indians, headed by Ta- 
 wapsett had visited the trader's cabin, and though the 
 old chief had refrained from molesting those who had 
 given his daughter protection, her request to see and 
 bid farewell to Anatola was refused, and despite her 
 tears and protestations the maiden was carried away. 
 Their canoes were then fast receding toward the penin- 
 sula and the intrepid and half-crazed lover declared his 
 intention of following. The mother expostulated, and 
 while discussing the matter, the captain and crew of a 
 trading vessel — which unnoticed had stolen into the 
 bay — appeared at the door. Their faces were flushed 
 and excited, and they hastened to inform the settlers 
 
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 230 
 
 ''ECHO:'' THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 of the news just received in the mainsl ore vsettlements 
 of Hull's surrender in the Northwest, and probable 
 uprising of the Indians which was expected to im- 
 mediately follow. 
 
 "White settlers must now flee for their lives," said 
 the captain. 
 
 The vessel was bound for a small trading post 
 near the mouth of the Huron river, and the captain 
 kindly offered to carry thither the cabin dwellers. 
 
 Anatola could not leave his mother unprotected, 
 and to visit alone at that time the peninsula in quest of 
 his betrothed bride would have been madness. With 
 the settlers, therefore, who had hastily collected their 
 valuables, he proceeded on board the vessel to the 
 Huron trading post, and thence to the fort a short 
 distance up the river. 
 
 Learning on arrival that a military company was 
 about to take its departure for the peninsula on an ex- 
 pedition against the Indians, who had already attacked 
 the white settlers, he joined it, and fully armed and 
 equipped the company made their way thither. A 
 fierce skirmish between a body of militia and a band of 
 Indians had taken place. The former had been greatly 
 outnumbered and compelled to retreat to a log house, 
 which they had defended for three days. Wearied by 
 their lack of success or learning of the approach from 
 the Huron river port of reinforcements, the Indians 
 finally dispersed, and with the arrival of the company 
 the b-'leaguered garrison weie set at liberty. 
 
 Several dead bodies of \ /hites and red skins at- 
 tested the closeness of the combat. Among the num- 
 ber lay a swarthy Iroquois chieftain who — as Anatola 
 
ECHO:'' THE IROQUOIS MAIDEN. 
 
 237 
 
 afterwards learned — was Tavvupsett, the father of his 
 betrothed. 
 
 While scouring about the peninsula a day or two 
 after their arrival, a party of soldiers captured a small 
 band of Indians caught depredating. They were 
 brought into camp, and with them was found the 
 chieftain's daughter. Anatola received her with 
 transport, and Echo wept tears of joy at beholding 
 him. 
 
 Together the twain proceeded to the Huron river 
 fort where they were legally united — a missionary 
 priest officiating. 
 
 A small monument erected on the spot by its sole 
 survivor — then remaining — the distinguised congres- 
 sional representative, Joshua R. Giddings, just fifty 
 years after the date of the memorable battle in which fell 
 Tawapsett, the Iroquois chieftain, is all that remains at 
 the present day to commemorate the struggle. 
 
 As to what became of Anatola and his dusky bride 
 it is not definitely known, eighty-six years having 
 merged in oblivion their subsequent history. 
 
 All traces of the island cabin which they once oc- 
 cupied have now disappeared, but the pictured face of 
 "Inscription Rock" still bears symbolic records of the 
 island's primeval dwellers — the red tribes — now passed 
 to their "Happy Hunting Grounds." 
 
 ^li 
 
 I. 
 
 yi! 
 
I :i 
 
 I f 
 
 1. 1 
 
 1 ) 
 
 EVERYTHING WRONG; 
 
 Or the Trials of Nicholas Bcctlcbrow, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 An old resident was Nicholas fieetlebrow. He 
 lived in a flat, squarely built house situated on an ex- 
 tremity of the island known as "Land's End." This 
 house had once been new, and Mr. Beetlebrow had 
 once been young, but house and owner were now 
 growing old together. Both were getting weather 
 beaten in appearance, and cranky and rheumatic gen- 
 erally. 
 
 When it stormed, and the wind swept in gusts off 
 the lake the old house shook; its doors, and windows 
 rattled, while "Old Nick"^as Mr. Beetlebrow was 
 familiarly called — sat in a corner of the brown painted 
 kitchen, poked the fire, shoved in the coal, grumbled 
 at the weather and exhibited a chronic dissatisfaction 
 with everything. 
 
 As every community has among its individual 
 members, odd and eccentric specimens ot the genus 
 homo, so the peculiarities of Mr. Beetlebrow had classed 
 him among island novelties. Grumbling was his 
 specialty. He grumbled at the heat, the cold, the 
 rain, the sunshine. In fair weather and in foul his 
 tongue seemed constantly shaping new forms of ex- 
 pression for new grievances. There was always some- 
 
EVERYTHING WRONG. 
 
 thing V. rong. Wherever he looked, he beheld germs 
 of evil 5.,/roiiting, blossoming, and running up to seed. 
 In the sun and moon he read all sorts of evil omens, 
 while disaster and ruin blazed in the shooting stars of 
 the midnight sky. So long and so persistently had he 
 grumbled, and so fixed had become the grumbling 
 habit, that to have broken off suddenly would have 
 proven, doubtless, as calamitous to Mr. Beetlebrow, as 
 total abstinence to the "arsenic eaters" of the Tyrol. 
 
 So constantly had he kept the corners of his mouth 
 drawn down and his brow contracted that they had so 
 grown, apparently; and the stereotyped expression of 
 his face reminded one of a foggy morning in the month 
 of March. 
 
 Betsy Beetlebrow, the wife of our hero, was the 
 direct antipode of her "liege lord." Her sanguine 
 temperament never permitted her to court the dampness 
 and gloom of melancholy. She took the world, and 
 the people and things in it just about as she found 
 them, never borrowed trouble and appeared always 
 the personification of easy, good nature. Increasing 
 years had rounded to fullness the matronly form, but 
 the rose flush of youth still dyed her plump cheeks, 
 while a suspicion of mischief twinkled in the grey 
 eyes, and played in mirthful curves about her mouth. 
 
 "Spring sunshine linked to a November snow 
 squall" — was Aunt Polly Jones' comment on, this 
 strangely matched couple. 
 
 It was nearing the close of winter. Spring had al- 
 ready come, in fact; and following the ordinary course 
 of nature, blue birds and robins should have been har- 
 monizing their songs in the tree-tops; and blue-bells, 
 
 ! ;i 
 
 y 
 
 
 I 
 
 { I 
 
 
 r:\ 
 
 
 i.'il 
 
240 
 
 EVERY THLXG WRONG. 
 
 :t i 
 
 v! ! 
 
 and "bare-foot blows," opening; in sheltered glades. 
 But the tardy songsters still lingered among the orange 
 groves of the sunny South, while the blue-bells and 
 "bare-foot blows" were still in embryo. There were 
 circles of bare ground about the orchard trees, and the 
 knolls showed many bald spots. Aside from these, the 
 ground was still covered with snow and ice. A line 
 of drifts appeared on the east side of Mr. l^eetlebrow's 
 dwelling, and since the preceding December had been 
 an eyesore to that gentleman. At present, these snow 
 hills were covered with sooty siftings from the 
 chimney top, shakings of the table cloth and dribbings 
 of dish water. The ice in the lake was still solid and 
 the winds sweeping across it biting cold. 
 
 Mr. Beetlebrow sat in his accustomed corner. His 
 brow wrinkled and the corner curves of his mouth ap- 
 peared more decided than usual. He was cogitating, 
 evidently, upon some absorbing topic, for he stared 
 hard at the Hre and from his pursed up lips came in- 
 articulate mutterings addressed, supposititiously, to 
 some offending object that intruded upon his imagi- 
 nation. 
 
 Betsy Beetlebrow was mixing pie crust at the 
 kitchen table. Her sleeves were rolled to the elbows, 
 and as she kneaded up the dough sang a lively ditty. 
 
 *.*Betsy, I don't see how you can go round singing, 
 and laffin' and carryin' on when everything's to pay," 
 exclaimed Mr. Beetlebrow. 
 
 "Why, what's to pay now, Daddy?'* enquired she, 
 flourishing the rolling pin over a lump of dough. 
 
 "What a'int to pay, you'd better ask," retorted he. 
 
EVERVTH/XC WRO\G. 
 
 841 
 
 she, 
 
 "Tne kentry is j(oin' to the doj(s jist .is fast as it kin ; 
 I'spose we'll have to <(o to the do^s with it.'* 
 
 "All you kin read about, or hear tell of, is d\nam- 
 iters, strikers, political plotters, snow-slides, mine 
 horrors, railroad smash ups, wars, and rumors of wars 
 and everything by the ears ginaly." 
 
 "Between the Klondike and the Spaniards every- 
 body is goin' crazy as loons; and now that grape 
 raisin don't pay any more, I wish that some of them 
 fellers what blew up the Maine 'ud touch off a torpedo 
 underneath this island, and blow it into kmgdom 
 come." 
 
 "Well," replied Betsy thoughtfully greasing her pie 
 tins. "It might be a good plan." 
 
 Mr. Beetlebrow sat silent. 
 
 "Daddy, 1 wish you'd put a little more coal in the 
 stove," said Betsy turning about. 
 
 "Yis, that makes me think, I've got to go over to 
 the mainland for a load of coal in a day or two. The 
 bin's most empty. If it had'ent been for havin' sech a 
 raven'us coal-eater of a stove, we'd had enough to 
 keep us goin' till the boat run; but that's jest my luck;" 
 and Mr. Beetlebrow rattled the stove as if angry at the 
 amount of fuel it had consumed. 
 
 "I'll have to be on the ice all day, goin' and comin' 
 with that pesky boss; an' I'd jest about as soon think 
 of hitchin' up a rantin buffalo." 
 
 "I wish old Jake Flutterbudget had his boss agin, 
 and* I had my fifty dollars back. I never see a meaner 
 boss than old Ripsnorter." 
 
 "What makes you call the animile such a hard 
 name, Daddy ?" queried his wife. 
 
 ^^i 
 
 
 i 
 
 vi 
 
 
i .1 
 
 ! .1 
 
 ■;:l 
 
 ' ■■^'. 
 
 242 
 
 EVERYTHING WRONG. 
 
 "*Cause I can't think of any that fits him better. 
 I've sized up all the names, from Noah down to the 
 present gineration, and I can't light on anything that 
 suits him better than that. You jest ought to see the 
 hay he mows away; and he kin demolish as much corn 
 in a week as it 'ud take to fatten a whole sty full of 
 hogs, 'n still he's so thin you kin most see daylight 
 through him. I expect if I should lean him up agin 
 the fence the crows 'ud take him for a carrion carcase 
 and go pickin' him to pieces. Then of all the mulish? 
 contrary creeturs in the shape of boss flesh, Ripsnorter 
 takes the cake. 
 
 "Yis, and he has an off ul temper — shows the whites 
 of his eyes, and he's got soused to the layin' of his 
 ears back, that 'pears as if the}^'d growed that way. 
 This mornin' when I was puttin' hay in the manger, 
 the old dragon reached over and grabbed my arm be- 
 tween his teeth. Glory ! I thought a crocodile had 
 grabbed me. With my other hand I fetched the fork 
 handle 'round, and he concluded to let go. I com- 
 menced to lam him with the fork, and would have 
 taken the hide clean off of him, but happened to think 
 that the handle was splintered, and shaky like. No, I 
 don't know any name that suits him better than jest 
 Ripsnorter." 
 
 "You ought to call him some of them tony names, 
 
 like 'Goldsmith Maid' or " 
 
 "Why, he's a boss; you don't want to give him a 
 female name, Betsy !" 
 
 "Well, then, call him after some of the presidents — 
 George Washington, James Garfield, Grover Cleve- 
 land " 
 
EVERYTHING WRONG. 
 
 243 
 
 "Grover Clev^eland !" vociferated Mr. Beetlebrow. 
 "Betsy, I'd jist as soon think o' namin' that hoss Beel- 
 zebub as namin' him after a dimycrat president, and 
 you know it. If I could git along without the hoss, I'd 
 hire somebody to shoot him, and then he wouldn't need 
 no name." 
 
 In justice to Mr. Beetlebrow, it must here be re- 
 marked that the worst part of his nature, the surface, 
 alwaj's boiled over and sizzled away in highly seasoned 
 language, and that he was never known to do anything 
 half as savage as his words indicated. 
 
 "If you had him shot, what would you do for a 
 carriage horse ?" 
 
 "I guess we don't want no kerridge hoss when we 
 hain't got no kerridge," replied Beetlebrow, savagely. 
 "Betsy, I don't see why you allers will make light of 
 serious matters. I b'leeve if we wus goin' to be turned 
 out of house an' home 3'Ou'd want to celebrate the 
 occasion with a dance or frolic of some kind. 
 
 "Thare ain't no tellin'; we may find ourselves in 
 that fix yit, and it's the worst of all my trouble. That's 
 what I commenced to talk about, then we got switched 
 off onto the hoss question. 
 
 "You know that two hundred dollar mortgage I 
 gave Jerry Johnston on the place ? Well, I thought it 
 wasn't due till the last of May, but come to look at the 
 papers I find it due day after tomorrow, and I hain't 
 got twenty dollars to spare toward it. So I wouldn't 
 wonder if we'd be booked for the poorhouse afore 
 another winter." 
 
 "Maybe we can borrow money to pay off the mort- 
 gage, Daddy," returned his wife. "Then you will 
 
 K f 
 
 'f ! II 
 
 ' t- 
 
 ■"r 
 
 A 
 
 
 
 
244 
 
 EVERYTHING WRONG, 
 
 ■■\ 
 
 i 
 
 \\ is 
 
 have fishing to fall back on, besides raising vegetables 
 to keep up the house, and all the other crops. Spite 
 of the late cold snap, the peaches didn't get killed, 
 3'ou know." 
 
 "They ain't killed, no; but the bugs, and the blight, 
 and the San Jose scale will clean 'em all out, of course. 
 No, it ain't no use talkin'; we mrgl/ as well slip our 
 cables and lay our course for the happy land o' Canaan* 
 the hull raft on us, as to lay still expectin' any good to 
 come out of this Jericho. This world is nothin' but a 
 howHn' wilderness of woe and a valley of tribulation. 
 It's all bottomside up and inside out, and nobody as has 
 as much sense as a last year's bird's nest will take any 
 stock in it." 
 
 "If Molly w^asn't so bent and determined on makin' 
 a fool of herself," continued Beetlebrow, "she'd ship 
 that lamber legged lumpkins that's runnin' after her 
 and take Fritzhannes, that rich Pennsylvania farmer* 
 He's got two or three big farms, and hull droves of 
 cattle, bosses, sheep and hogs, and any amount of ready 
 chink, they say. He could make her a first- rate home, 
 and maybe help us with the mortgage." 
 
 "Well, but Fritzhannes is old enough to be Molly's 
 father; then he's so awfully Dutch. He's lived so long 
 among the Berks county hills that 1 don't believe he 
 could ever learn to talk English so that Molly could 
 understand him." 
 
 "Women must always have their say, and their 
 way," grumbled Beetlebrow ; "but I tl 'nk a gal a fool 
 to let a fortune slip through her fingers all for the sake 
 of a young coxcomb who ain't worth the powder to 
 blow him up." 
 
EVERYTHING WRONG. 
 
 245 
 
 '*That's what my father thought when I had a 
 chance to marry that wealthy old merchant and took 
 you instead," returned Betsy. 
 
 Mr. Beetlebrow winced perceptibly, and his wife 
 continued : 
 
 "I think Wilbur Wilson a real nice young man, and 
 if I was a young woman I don't know but I'd go for 
 him myself. He's sober, honest, works hard and puts 
 by his earnings, they say. If a gal is fool enough to 
 git married, she'd better take a young man like that 
 than a great, greasy old fellow like Fritzhannes, even if 
 he is made of gold. You know what the Bible says 
 about worshipin' golden calves ? Ot course Mr. Fritz- 
 hannes is too big for a calf, but to use a figger of 
 sp ^ch " 
 
 At this moment Molly Beetlebrow, the subject of 
 these remarks, appeared upon the scene, having just 
 returned from a neighboring house, where she had 
 spent the afternoon. Molly was a pretty, round-faced 
 girl, with dark hair and elfish eyes, like those of her 
 mother. She was merry as a bird and bright as a sun- 
 beam—so thought, at least, Wilbur Wilson, the young 
 man who paid her attention. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 »» 
 
 "Well, I should think you'd got your visit out, 
 growled Beetlebrow. "I didn't know but what you 
 was goin' to stay all night." 
 
 "Why, what's the difference if I did stay. Daddy.'*" 
 queried the girl. "I'm sure I had my work with me; 
 
 >» 
 
 
 m 
 
 Mm. 
 
 H: pJL;!^' 
 
 f' ll 
 
 iiitil 
 
 
246 
 
 EVERYTHING WRONG. 
 
 and she took from her pocket a roll of lace upon which 
 she was knitting and sat down by the fire. 
 
 "If you call that work, then I'd like to know what 
 you call play. When I was young, gals used to knit 
 stockings and mittens, and things that was some ac- 
 count; they didn't have time for such tomfoolery." 
 
 "Well, I can knit stockings, and mittens, too, and 
 make lace besides; so I'm that much ahead of those 
 old-fashioned girls," replied Molly. 
 
 "Oh, yis; gals air a heap smarter nowadays, 'spe- 
 cially with their tongues," retorted Beetlebrow. 
 
 With a smile of amusement Molly continued her 
 work. She was too accustomed to her querulous old 
 father to feel annoyed. Presently she began studying 
 the figures amidst the glowing coals of the grate, then 
 she stole a look at her father. 
 
 "Daddy," she began after some hesitation : "Wil- 
 bur Wilson is going to the main-shore to-morrow, and 
 he said I should ask if there was anything you wanted 
 to send for." 
 
 "O, I'spose you've been off sparkin' up the young 
 shanghi." 
 
 I only met him on the road when I was coming 
 from Spencer's," answered Molly with a blush. 
 
 "No, I can be my own waiter yet awhile," replied 
 the old man. 
 
 "I'm a'goin' to the mainland myself to-morrow, and 
 I can do my own errands. A purty accomodatin' set 
 these young fellers are, if they happen to hev an axe to 
 grind." Mr. Beetlebrow shut the door with a bang, 
 and walked away toward the barn muttering to himself. 
 
 The following morning when the sun arose, illumin- 
 
EVERYTHING WRONG. 
 
 I4n 
 
 spe- 
 
 'Wil- 
 
 min- 
 
 ating with flash and glitter the frozen lake, Nicholas 
 Beetlebrow with horse and sled was heading toward 
 the blue line of the peninsula some miles distant. 
 Long before day, Betsy and her daughter had been 
 bustling in and out. While Molly prepared breakfast, 
 her mother busied herself putting up lunch for "Dad- 
 dy," packing some butter for market, and attending to 
 various duties. 
 
 Having let loose a whole swarm of doubts, and 
 misgivings concerning the weather and the ice, Beetle- 
 brow took his departure. His wife and daughter 
 looked after him until a point of land hid him from 
 view. Betsy felt just the least bit anxious, and won- 
 dered if there was any danger of the ice breaking up 
 before "Daddy" returned — for she was just as fond of 
 this wry-faced, curumdgeon of a husband as are other 
 women of husbands who are good looking, and good 
 natured. 
 
 The day wore on, evening came, and Mrs. Beetle- 
 brow and her daughter were beginning to feel alarmed 
 at the long absence of the husband and father, when 
 they saw him approaching afoot, and alone. 
 
 "Why, Daddy, what's the matter, and where is 
 the horse, and sled?" 
 
 "In Davy Jones' locker — least ways the boss is." 
 
 "O, I hope the poor horse hasn't got into the lake!'* 
 exclaimed Molly. 
 
 "Well, I didn't see him go in, but he run off, and 
 the last I see of him he was streakin' it round Birch 
 Pint, goin' right fer a stretch of open water, and I 
 expect he's in by this time." 
 
 Maybe he' gone ashore on the point — " suggested 
 
 'ia 
 
 V\ 
 
mmm 
 
 248 
 
 £ VER VTHING WRONG. 
 
 Betsy feeling relieved that the animal was not known 
 to be positively drowned. 
 
 "No, Ripsnorter is too tarnal contrary fer that. 
 He'd go and dump hisself in jest fer spite. I don't 
 cackerlate on ever seein' him agin." 
 
 "How did he happen to get away;" queried Betsy. 
 
 "Well you see when I was jest about a mile off Birch 
 Pin% the hoss took one of his streaks o' cussedness. 
 He wanted to turn in on the pint instead of comin' 
 home. When I tried to touch him up a little, he stop- 
 ped short, and there he stood, and do you think 1 could 
 budge him out of his tracks. I labored with him fer 
 about half an hour tryin' to persuade him to move on> 
 but he wouldn't, then I commenced to lam him with 
 the ends of the lines — course I hadn't the shadder of 
 a whip along, or even a strap. The lines wus short, 
 and I had to git purty close to him, and fust thing I 
 knew, the pesky creetur's heels flew up, and he blazed 
 away like a hull charge of Roman candles. He didn't 
 hit me square, or I 'spose I'd a got my everlastin' Jack. 
 He knocked my hat off though, and knocked me down. 
 I felt a good deal stunned, but scrabbled to my feet 
 agin. Jest as this was happenin' Nap Davis come 
 along. He said he felt awfully sorry fer me, but I 
 don't 'bleve it 'cause he was laffin' all the time. He 
 said if he had sech a hoss, he'd tan his hide, and sell the 
 carcase to a glue factory; then he passed by on the 
 other side — like the priest, and the Levite — and left 
 me in the lurch." 
 
 "Well, I didn't know what to do, so I set down to 
 think. While I wus thinkin', and contrivin' that there 
 Wilbur Wilson drove up. He had a long whip, so I 
 
;:;;::! 
 
 EVERYTIilXG WRONG. 
 
 249 
 
 borried it and played it over old Ripsnorter's shanks 
 awhile. But it wasn't no use, the old humbug jest 
 stood there and laved back his ears, and kicked till you 
 could see blue blazes. Then that Wilson chap said I'd 
 better onhitch him and he'd fasten the sled onto his'n, 
 and we'd lead the boss home. While I was standin' 
 by old Ripsnorter after he was onhitched, a gust of 
 wind took away my hat. I thought the old snipe 
 would stand till I got it agin, 'cause he didn't want to 
 go anyhow, but he happened to find out that I wanted 
 him to stand still, so he jest gave a snort, threw his 
 heels into the air, and off he went on full gallop. I was 
 lame from the rheumatiz and kick together, so Wilson 
 said I should drive his team home, and he'd go and 
 look fer Ripsnorter. So he started; but the boss was 
 headin' fer open water md I know that'll be the end 
 of him." 
 
 "Mavbe he's jjone and committed suicide by drown- 
 ing 'cause you said such hard things about him yester- 
 day." 
 
 "There 'tis agin, Betsy, you're allers pokin' fun in- 
 stead of sympathisin' with my sorrows and troubles. I 
 bleve if I was dead, and lyin' in my coffin you'd poke 
 fun at me. There's the boss gone, and the mortgage 
 hangin' over our heads — that's $250. worth of trouble 
 — and still you talk as if it wus all a good joke." 
 
 "O well, the horse wasn't good for anything 3^ou 
 know. Daddy, only to keep hay, and corn from spoil- 
 ing," returned Betsy provokingly. 
 
 Nicholas Beetlebrow was utterly inconsolable that 
 night. After supper was over, the dishes washed and 
 
 ;• I 
 ■ 'i 
 
 ii m 
 
 m 
 
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 w\ 
 
U'< 
 
 ! . 
 
 250 
 
 EVERYTHING WRONG. 
 
 put away in the big, red cupboard, Betsy took from 
 her bureau drawer a small box. Said she: 
 
 •*Daddy, I've got a little present for you, I was going 
 to keep it till to-morrow but 1 guess I'll let you have 
 it to sleep on to night." 
 
 "One of them blasted monkeys, or baboons what 
 jump up and scare folks, I'll bet," said Beetlebrovv tak- 
 ing the box and eyeing it suspiciously. Betsy smiled. 
 
 "It would be jest like one of your aggravatin' 
 tricks." He proceeded very cautiously to open the 
 box. To his astonishment he discovered within, a 
 nest full of shining coins, all ten dollar gold pieces. 
 
 "Jerusalem! where did you get this?" exclaimed 
 
 Beetlebrow. 
 
 "Count it, and see how much there is." 
 
 "Just $200." replied he, thinking of the mortgage — 
 
 "but where did you get it?" 
 
 "Well, Daddy, I'll tell you," replied his wife, "you 
 know that I have had all the butter and it^^ money for 
 the past four years. V/ell, I was real saving because 
 I knew that you was hard up. So 1 put away in small 
 bits all except what I needed to buy calico dresses, 
 aprons, thread and things, and when 1 got a lot of 
 small pieces I had them changed into eagles and laid 
 them away in this box. So there is $200 to clear off 
 the mortgage, then I have fifteen dollars left, that's 
 going to be the nest ^gg for anothei brood of golden 
 eagles." 
 
 "Glory Hallelujah ! " vociferated Beetlebrow. 
 'Betsy, if you aint a woman that's worth havin' 
 
 (( 
 
 now ! " 
 
 ! 
 
avin 
 
 EVERYTHING WRONG, 
 
 251 
 
 At that moment a sound of footsteps and a scrap- 
 ing of boots was heard outside and Molly became sud- 
 denly flushed while she took a hasty peep into the 
 glass to see if her bangs were all right, 
 
 "Come in," said Beetlebrow, in answer to a modest 
 knock. The door opened and Wilbur Wilson entered. 
 
 "I have brought home your horse and sled, Mr. 
 Beetlebrow," said the young man, after bowing to 
 Molly and her --mother. 
 
 "Then you found the boss? " 
 
 "Yes, 1 found him with the man you bought him of 
 a <'^ew weeks ago on Birch Point." 
 
 "Oh, I 'spose that's why he was so alfired anxious 
 to go in that direction, he wanted to see his old home. 
 Well, I don't know as I kin blame him much. You 
 brought the sled home too, did you?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; I left the sled by the wagon shed, and 
 put the horse in the barn." 
 
 "By jocks, young man, you're as much help as a 
 second pair of legs. You're a tip-top feller after all, 
 and I don't know but you'll answer about as well for 
 Molly as that old cub from Pennsylvany." 
 
 "O, father! " exclaimed Molly, her cheeks growing 
 red as June roses. 
 
 "What's the use beatin' round the bush," continued 
 the old man, apparently unconscious of the confusion 
 he had created. 
 
 "Don't you 'spose I kin see how the land lays. 
 You think a heap of the young man and he thinks a 
 heap of you, or else he would't go to so much bother 
 to get on the right side of the old man." 
 
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 ^ 
 
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 B^^Hk^ 
 
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 2r.2 
 
 EVERYTIIIXG IVKONG. 
 
 Turning to Wilbur he said: "Look here, would 
 you like to marry my girl? " 
 
 The young man blushed to the roots of his hair. 
 
 "I — I don't know if — if — whether she wants me." 
 
 "O, then you haint come to an understandin'?" 
 
 "Would you marry her if you could get her?" 
 continued Heetlebrow, pursuing his investigations. 
 
 Wilbur was reduced to the extremity of dispair. 
 Had he been a mouse he might have crept through a 
 knot hole in the floor upon which his eyes were resting, 
 but as n b:oad shoulderfd 30ung m.m standing six feet 
 in his rubber boots, the undertaking would have been im- 
 practicable. For some time he had thought of popping 
 the question to Molly, but had never dreamed of having 
 it popped to him. Forced to look the matter squarely 
 in the face, Wilbur rallied his fleeing wits, and muster- 
 ing all his courage, replied with a show of firmness — 
 
 "I think more of iMolly than of any one else, and if 
 she likes me well enough to have me, I will marry her." 
 
 "That's business," commented Beetlebrow. 
 
 "Now Molly, how is it, will you have the young 
 man?" 
 
 Molly looked straight down at her feet, nervously 
 fumbling the hem of her apron; covertly, but eagerly 
 watched by Wilbur Wilson. 
 
 "Come, speak out," urged Beetlebrow. 
 
 "Molly's lips shaped an inaudible "yes" and she 
 nodded an aflirmative. 
 
 "All right then; its settled," exxlaimed Beetlebrow. 
 
 "Now Betsey," he said, turning to his wife, "I've 
 given Molly leave to make a fool of herself the same as 
 
EVERVTH/XG IVROXG. 
 
 253 
 
 ?'l; 
 
 you did when you married your old crank of a husband, 
 and I'm ^lad you did make a fool of yourself." Thus 
 sayinj( he kissed her. 
 
 "Well, Daddy, you generally complain about every 
 thing being wrong, but I'm glad you've found some- 
 thing that's right at last," and she kissed him back. 
 
 So the mortgage was paid off and the wedding was 
 set for the following June. 
 
 
 i ra 
 
 M 
 
 hjf 
 
 fi 
 
 ^4.. 
 
ADVENTURES 
 
 Si 
 
 '1 
 
 \l 
 
 In Queen Vic's Domains. 
 
 An occasion of pleasing memory was the writer's 
 first visit to Point au Pelee island some years ago, 
 with a party of friends on board a small sail craft. 
 
 For two reasons this island was of especial interest 
 to me. First, owing to its distinction as the largest of 
 the Lake Erie group; and second, because of its po- 
 sition as an outpost on British territorial boundaries. 
 
 It was my first cruise under canvas. A head wind 
 whipped us soundly, and though long and tedious, the 
 tacks which the little vessel made were lively, so ren- 
 dered by her pitching and rolling. 
 
 The wind too, made music, singing and whistling 
 through the rigging. This, with the creak of blocks 
 and strain of cordage, and the swash of waves under 
 our weather bow, afforded exhilarating interest. 
 
 But one incident occurred to startle, and destroyed 
 for a moment our pleasurable emotions. The occasion 
 was the giving way . of a block at the mainmast head? 
 causing a sudden collapse of the mainsail and a corres- 
 ponding commotion on deck. 
 
 The big black section of canvas loaded with tarry 
 sheets, booms, and tackle, and wet with surf suddenly 
 descending, buried us beneath its heavy folds. An 
 ancient mariner a-doze, with head upon a pile of junki 
 
 f^n 
 
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u 
 
 A D VEXTURES IX QUE EX I VCS DOAfAIXS. 25.- 
 
 narrrovvly escaped havinj^ his perceptive faculties 
 knocked out. When at last we succeeded in extricat- 
 ing ourselves from the promiscuous pile, the Mohican, 
 our restive craft, was tossin<^ in the trough of the sea 
 — the steersman having m his excitement let go the til- 
 ler. Sail and tackle were dragging over the side, her 
 starboard rail lay on a level with the water and spray 
 showered freely over us. 
 
 For a moment we imaLjined ourselves j^oing 
 Straight to "Davy Jones" locker," and one or two of 
 our lady passengers were almost frightened into hys- 
 terics. Fortunately "IM'ddle Island" was near at 
 hand and the Mohican's crew worked her under the 
 lee and finally ashore, where repairs were made. 
 
 Here we first set foot upon Queen Victoria's do- 
 mains the island lying within the dominion waters. 
 We visited the lighthouse and were entertained at the 
 dwelling of the keeper. 
 
 Twilight shadows were thickly falling over the dark 
 forests of Point au Pelee, when at last the Mohican 
 made fast her lines at the old "south dock." The party 
 were received and entertained beneath the hospitable 
 roof of friends, and wearied from tossing on the billows 
 and the nausea it had occasioned, we were early to bed. 
 But the Pelee mosquito; we had been informed con- 
 cerning this island specialty. To learn that said insect, 
 or animal, cracked hickory nuts with its teeth, and 
 that many of them weighed a pound was not so much 
 of a surprise, however, as the onslaught which there on 
 the borders of the Pelee marshlands it made upon us. 
 The night was "filled with music," but the cares that 
 infested the d^y stubbornly refused to "fold their tents." 
 
 
 II 
 
 w 
 
 i 
 
 ill 
 
T 
 
 256 A D VENTURES IN Q UEEN VIC'S DO MA INS. 
 
 In addition to the mosquito ileet, we were assailed by a 
 chorus of frogs, night-hawks, screech-owls and cata- 
 mounts, also on the warpath. Just how we got through 
 that awful niglit I hardly know, but we survived it at any 
 rate, and next morning after bathing our bites in a solu- 
 tion of j^oda, we started out to view the land, very little 
 of which was visible, however, on account of the thick 
 woods) and thicker undergrowths running rampart over 
 tracts of land which had once been clearings. VVe had 
 taken passage in a "one boss shay" affair, the wheels 
 of which gave forth an unearthly screech with every 
 turn. 
 
 The road was a mere wagon track deeply worn 
 into parallel ruts close crowded by trees, and notwith- 
 standing the evaporative heats of July weather, the 
 mud at some points was deep and sticky and it was 
 necessary to keep going as fast as conditions would 
 allow, to prevent ourselves and nag being devoured by 
 mosquitoes. 
 
 That road — the "rocky road to Dublin" - wasn't a 
 circumstance in comparison; its ruts and roots, holes 
 and humps through and over which we were bounced 
 made memorable the ride. 
 
 Wild cats were common and herds of horses were 
 running wild through the woods, just as in early days 
 hogs ran wild at Put-in-Bay. 
 
 A remnant of the red race still held a foothold on 
 the island, and by request we were introduced to a 
 family, representing as descendants the ancient Mo- 
 hawks. 
 
 Black raspberries hanging rich and ripe were every- 
 where found through the clearings, and a few denizens 
 
A D VENTURES LX (2 UEEX VICS DOM A INS. 257 
 
 of the island were observed gutheriiifr them by pailsfull. 
 The sijrht was templintr, and provided with suitable 
 receptacles, we started in to try our luck. Inexhaust- 
 able in quantity were the berries, and snakes of various 
 kinds were also prolific. Black snakes of immense size 
 and length were especially numerous and could be seen 
 v/hisking under and about rotting logs and hollow 
 stumps, or gliding ir^ and out a.r.ong the bushes, caus_ 
 ing a creepy sensation along the spinal column; and 
 would have stampeded us all from the place undoubt- 
 edly, had we then known what we have since learned, 
 namely — that the mysterious and unexplored deptns 
 of the island's land-locked bays and inlets are supposed 
 to form the abiding place of that terrible, but elusive 
 creature known as the "sea serpent." 
 
 According to the statements of reputable residents 
 of the island, two specimens of this monster have there 
 been seen, one of which was declared to be lOO feet in 
 length. On one occasion, these reptiles ran afoul of a 
 fisherman's pounds and chewed up and destroyed all 
 the twine, even pulling up some of the stakes to which 
 it was moored. 
 
 In harvest time these big snakes amuse themselves 
 by coming ashore, chasing the harvesters from the 
 field and tearing down the grain shocks. 
 
 Those of our readers who have been wont to regard 
 the sea serpent as a mythical creation, should visit Pelee 
 Island and get the testimony of its inhabitants. Know- 
 ing nothing of these sea monsters, however, ignorance 
 to us proved blissful on the occasion described 
 
 With an area of about 13,000 acres, a length often 
 miles and a breadth of four, the island afforded ample 
 
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258 A D VEXTURES lA Q UEEX VICS DO MA INS. 
 
 I m 
 
 space in which stian<^ers ini^ht lose themselves, and 
 we were careful in our explorations nol to get too far 
 away from our guide. 
 
 While thus scouring the wilds of Pelee, a smart 
 gale smote the Mohican. She dragged her anchor^ 
 drove ashore and stove a hole through her side. The 
 breach was repaired, and fearing lest seme calamity 
 still more direful overtake us, we shook the Pelee dust, 
 as well as mud, from our feet, and boarding the Mo- 
 hican sailed for Put-in-Bay, which we fortunately, 
 reached without serious mishap. 
 
 A second trip to Pelee Island at a later date was 
 taken with a party comprising the membership of a 
 newspaper correspondents' association, our objective 
 point being the famous Pelee club house and grounds 
 at Point Sheridan on the north shore. 
 
 We took passage on a trim, little Sandusky steamer, 
 the Elsa. The da}' was glorious, the company choice, 
 and as we headed for the north pole we were met by 
 a breeze delij^htfullv cool. 
 
 We had just disposed of a sumptuous dinner, or as 
 much thereof as seemed prudent, served on the 
 steamer's roomy decks, when the island was reached, 
 and edging carefully along a precarious looking pier, 
 her passengers succeeded in getting ashore. 
 
 A short walk brought us to the club house, a 
 commodious structure; its olive-green exterior and red 
 roof showing advantageously against a broad hem of 
 dark foliajjed oaks and elms. 
 
 Curiously and with a species of veneration gazed 
 we upon the spot, since within its environments had as- 
 
or as 
 
 the 
 
 iched, 
 
 pier, 
 
 A D VENTURES IN QUEEN VICS DO MA TNS. 250 
 
 sembled for years some of the most distinguished men 
 of America, such as Robert T. Lincohi, ex-President 
 Arthur, General Schofield, Gen. Phil Sheridan, Mar- 
 shall Field, ex-Secretary Gresham, Larry Jerome of 
 New York, Geo. M. Pullman, Anson Stager, Bishop 
 McLaren of Chicago, C. H. Thompkins, Harry Dur- 
 and of New York, and many others of corresponding 
 prominence. 
 
 The club corporation, we were told, represented 
 somewhere between $So,ooo,ooo and $100,000,000 and 
 its appointments were all that might be expected — 
 elegance and luxury everywhere, combining with com- 
 fort and convenience to render the place an ideal resort* 
 
 Each club member had placed at his disposal a 
 servant to do his bidding, with a corps of oar? men and 
 lackeys awaiting orders. 
 
 These representative men of brains and capital have 
 been accustomed to meet semi-annually at their chosen 
 rendezvous to fish for black bass —Canadian waters 
 being more prolific in this game fish than those of the 
 States. However, the recent restrictions placed by 
 the Canadian government on bass and other fishing, 
 have now curtailed to some extent the enjoyment here 
 afforded adepts of the rod and reel. 
 
 A large enterprise concerning which the Pelee is- 
 lander talked volubl}', w.is the successful drainage of 
 the great Pelee marsh consisting of about 5000 acres. 
 This extensive marsh was literally pumped dry by 
 means of a massive steam pump run by an eighty horse 
 power engine. The land, once submerged beneath 
 malaria breeding swamp waters, now annually pro- 
 duces splendid crops of wheat, corn and potatoes, 
 
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 11 
 
 260 A D VENTURE. "^ IN (2UEEN VICS DO MA INS. 
 
 while the domination of the mosquito has been ma- 
 terially curtailed. 
 
 From Pelee we sighted the Canadian main, with 
 many vessels and barges cruising in the "North pass- 
 age," and after an hour's sojourn again boarded the 
 Elsa and bid farewell to this very interesting bit ff 
 Queen Victoria's possessions. 
 
 Though no calamity befell any of our party on this 
 occasion, it may not be out of place to state incident- 
 ally that after a long voyage — taken the following 
 year — and a series of thrilling adventures, the little 
 steamer Elsa was lost on "Colorado Reefs," off the 
 coast of South America. 
 
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 BALLAST ISLAND. 
 
 Among the numerous resorts for summer visitors 
 and tourists scattered amonj^ the islands of the archi- 
 pelago, liallast resort holds a prominent place. The 
 island itself is a romantic bit of nature, consisting of 
 picturesque rock, native forest trees and vineyard and 
 orchard lands. 
 
 Numerous cottages, artistically built and vine em- 
 bowered, with winding walks and smooth lawns, adorn 
 the spot, and overlooking precipitous rocks to north- 
 ward is located the Ballast club house, an airy structure. 
 An ample wharf, boat house and other improvements 
 also appear. 
 
 "Home of the Western Canoe Association" is the 
 term by which Ballast island is best known to its pa- 
 
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 262 
 
 BEAUTIFUL BALLAST. 
 
 11 
 
 
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 trons, iiavin(( formed for years the resort at which this 
 organization has held its annua.) meets, and a newly 
 erected club house on the gravelly stretch of the south 
 shore furnishes excellent accommodations to its mem- 
 bership. In addition to the club house of the canoe as- 
 sociation, the canoer's camp —as seen during the sum- 
 mer — with its tents of white and striped canvas, and its 
 line of birchen canoes crowding the beach, forms a 
 pretty picture, which the photographer, camera in hand, 
 has not been slow to discover. J^allast Island was so 
 named in consideration of the fact that just before the 
 battle of Lake Erie the ships of Perry's squadron were 
 provided with ballast in the shape of stone brought from 
 the shoi"es of this island. Ilistor}' does not locate the 
 exact spot where the gallant commodore obtained his 
 supply, but he must have found it without looking far, 
 as lime rock, gravel stone and boulders are there found 
 in inexhaustable quantity. 
 
 The island contains about nine acres of land and is 
 owned by a stock company, among whom are ex Mayor 
 Geo. W. Gardner and Gen. James Barnett of Cleveland, 
 Colonel Bartlett of Fremont and many other gentlemen 
 of prominence who, with their families and friends, 
 patronize the resort. 
 
 Natuie's rugged w'ildness and art's refining touch 
 here combine to form a scene most charming. 
 
 Notable among summer cottages may be mentioned 
 the Gardner <'log cabin," a romantic picture, a rustic 
 poem, from its old fashioned chimney, furniture and 
 spinning wheel within, to the scaly bank of its unhewn 
 logs and ivy-clad gables without. 
 
 At this resort the Cleveland Canoe association was 
 
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 BE A ( Tin 7. PAIJ.AST. 
 
 'ly'A 
 
 THE GARDNER "LOG CABIN." 
 
 organized nearly twenty years ago, W. Scott Robinson, 
 of the Cleveland Recorder, and Geo. W. Gardner being 
 its chief sustainers. 
 
 In 18S5 invitations were extended to all Western 
 canoers to become guests of the Cleveland club at Bal- 
 last. These invitations were accepted and from this 
 friendly alliance blossomed a new organization known 
 as the Western Canoe association. 
 
 An extended program of races in sailing and pad- 
 dling are arranged for each season and prize cups of 
 chaste and costly design are annually competed for; 
 each meet lastinjr about ten davs. 
 
 Speaking of canoers, they are all extravagantly 
 fond of juFt such a romantic situation as this little island 
 affords. They are fend, too, of brisk breezes, flapping 
 sails and dashi.ig surf. They worship a canoe as a 
 
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 264 
 
 BEAUTIFUL BALLAST. 
 
 Hindoo his gods, or an Arab his horse, and little won- 
 der, for the willowy masted, swift-winged canoe of 
 modern construction is the prettiest and most agile thing 
 ever designed to float upon water. 
 
 Many of these canoes are trimmed in nickel and 
 silver plating, with delicately wrought tiller chains and 
 rudder of shining nickel. They are decked with flags 
 and pennons of unique designs and their furnishings are 
 novel and pretty. 
 
 A CANOE RACE. 
 
 The canoe is an expensive toy and fit to grace a 
 parlor mantel — only that it is just a trifle too big for this 
 purpose. Its color is a pale birch-brown. It has two 
 sails, but is also propelled, when desired, by a single 
 paddle, after the manner of aboriginal canoers. 
 
 The canoer appears as strikingly picturesque as the 
 
 canoe which he sails, for his costume is natty and novel. 
 
 Beside the trophy cups sailed for, flags are awarded 
 
 winners, together with other prizes, both pretty and 
 
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BE A UTIFUr. BA L LA S T. 
 
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 appropriate, consislinj^ of articles sucli as silk blankets, 
 silver soap cases, traveling drinking cups, fishing boxes, 
 camp lanterns, canoe rugs and other novelties. 
 
 The families and friends of club members occupy 
 the cottages, taking their meals in the dining hall. A 
 manager is appointed to furnish supplies and to look 
 after the interests of the island. This position is filled 
 at the present time by S. M. Johannsen. 
 
 The Ballast resorter is a lover of nature, finding 
 "sermons in stones and tongues in trees," and beneath 
 his umbrageous screen of elms, maples, cedars and syc- 
 amores the days of summer speed like a dream. One 
 especial favorite known as the "umbrella," or "eagle 
 tree," contained for many years a large eagle's nest. 
 Within it every returning season a pair of old eagles 
 reared their young, and some of the brood were domes- 
 ticated by the islanders. The nest and the eagles have 
 now disappeared, but the tree still remains. 
 
 The Ballast patrons are individuals of quiet, refined 
 tastes, but unconventional withal, and prefer easy but 
 substantial comfort to stiff formality. 
 
 They dress as they like and do as they please, 
 bathing, boating, dozing, dreaming. They are all 
 thoroughly in love with their preity isle, and money 
 would not tempt them to part with it. 
 
 i! ■■ ^■• 
 
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4 
 
 MU 
 
 ''UNCLE JIMMY/' . 
 
 1? 
 
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 The Ballast Island hermit, commonly known as 
 »'Uncle Jimmy" was a man with a history — suppositi- 
 tiously at least — though the haps and mishaps of his 
 career were never quite clear to the public. However, 
 as the old man was a bachelor and given to solitude, 
 observers who took romantic views of existence, sur- 
 mised that a love affair was somehow tangled up in the 
 web of his life. Though averse to general society, 
 old Jimmy was mild tempered, and kindly disposed 
 toward any whom he chanced to meet. 
 
 At the period when he first took up his abode on 
 Ballast Island, and for many years afterward, his 
 weather beaten cabin was the only human habitation 
 there existing, save the shattered remains of an old 
 shed that had once been used by gillnetters as a ren- 
 dezvous. His only companions were the proverbial 
 dog and cat which found a snug abiding place beneath 
 his roof, and a horse and cow sheltered in a roughly 
 improvised stable. A portion of the island was cleared 
 land, affording opportunity for tillage and pasturage. 
 The remainder formed a picturesque tangle of Bass- 
 wood and elm, cedar growths, wild grape vines and 
 other undomesticated shrubberry. Eagles built their 
 nests undisturbed in the tall trees, and when the heavens 
 were black with clouds and storms swept by, mad with 
 delight sea gulls screamed, and wildly plunged into the 
 
( r 
 
 » UAXLE jimmy:' 
 
 267 
 
 breakers which whitened on the reef. Waves mount- 
 ed the rocky walls of weather-ward shores, flinging 
 foam flecks into overhanging boughs and filling 
 caverned niches with a bellowing thunder. With 
 spring time came troops of the scarlet-winged black- 
 bird, thrush, and whip-poor-will, the wood was reson- 
 ant with song, while the turf formed a carpet of wild 
 wood bloom. Summer unveiled pictures of gold, and 
 the trees covered with abundant foliage cast over the 
 cabin roof shadows cool and deep. The birds nested, 
 and short winged fledgelings hopped about on the 
 mossy ridge polo chirping their delight. 
 
 With fading summer, autumnal fires kindled the 
 maples wntil they flamed with scarlet and gold. 
 Sumachs reddened and wild grapes purpled on the 
 vines. With winter's advent the trees were bared of 
 all save empty nests. Dismantled vines swung listless. 
 The Canadian blasts swept down flurries of snow, and 
 rigid ice plains glistened where blue waves had dash- 
 ed. Such were the scenes which environed this soli- 
 tary but charming retreat. 
 
 Excepting when a party of fishermen or pleasure 
 seekers beached their boats upon the gravelled shore, 
 or when the owner came to look after the place, few 
 changes save those wrought by the changing seasons 
 varied the monotony of the hermit's life. Having 
 voluntarily chosen this mode of existence however, 
 Uncle Jimmy was presumably satisfied with his choice, 
 finding in solitiude a species of happiness unattainable 
 elsewhere. 
 
 As years went by and the natural attractions of the 
 archipelago came to be more and more appreciated by 
 
268 
 
 " UNCLE jimmy:' 
 
 r\ : I. 
 
 visitors from abroad, Ballast Island was purchased by 
 city capitalists. A club house and numerous cottages 
 were built, and in a little while our hero found himself 
 surrounded by gay crowds from the ^^xy center of city 
 life and fashion, Tiiis innovation must have cost the 
 old man some pangs of bitterness, but the invaders 
 were kindly disposed toward their predecessor, placing 
 upon him but few restrictions. Warmed by courteous 
 treatment the old man exhibited so many good traits, 
 that he eventually became a great favorite among 
 guests during their summer sojourn at the island. 
 
 Uncle Jimmy had been accustomed to procuring 
 supplies, consisting of provision, wearing apparel, and 
 notions, in the shops and stores of Put-in-Bay, rowing 
 across the channel in a small boat and carrying with 
 him — by way of barter cat-fish, which he had taken on 
 his hooks, or products of the soil. His wants, being 
 few and simple, were fully supplied in this way and 
 these trips to the *'Bay" were said to have been his 
 only excursions. For years he had not set foot on any 
 of the steamers which constantly plied between island 
 and mainland. One day, however, seized by some un- 
 accountable impulse, or driven by some unusual busi- 
 ness transaction. Uncle Jimmy boarded one ot the is- 
 land steamers for Sandusky. 
 
 Commanded by a throughbred captain who knew 
 and could handle her as Jeftiy as a lady handles a fan, 
 this staunch steamer had for years made her accustom- 
 ed trips day after day, had threaded narrow island 
 passages, dodging rock and reef, unscathed in daylight 
 and darkness, in storm and calm. 
 
 The steamer had proven thoroughly trustworthy, 
 
" UNCLE JIMMVr 
 
 269 
 
 and on ihat beautiful morning when Uncle Jimmy 
 leaned over the railing and gazed upon the fast reced- 
 ing shores of Ballast Island, his mind was as calm 
 and unruffed as the still blue waters, nor among the 
 passengers was there any premonition of danger. How- 
 ever, in the afternoon of that day peoj^le of the sur- 
 rounding islands were startled by a jarring report which 
 came echoing over intervening miles of water. Men 
 at work in vineyard and orchard paused to listen. 
 
 "A blast in the limestone quarries of the peninsula" 
 was the explanation suggested an I received, and the 
 men continued their work. 
 
 At Put-in Bay a knot of men lounged at the door of 
 the telegraph office while the instrument clicked off a 
 message. The operator scanned the cablegram re- 
 ceived and an excited exclamation burst from his lips. 
 
 * What is it?" and the gaping crowd closed quickly 
 about him. The message read as fellows : 
 
 Sandusky, O., May i8th, i8— . 
 
 "At 3:30 P. M. the island steamer blew up 
 
 off Kelley Island. Nearly all on board are injured or 
 killed outright." 
 
 At Sandusky the wharves were black with crowds 
 of people when the wrecked steamer was towed back 
 to the harbor from whence she had departed but an 
 hour before. 
 
 Scalded, blistered, disfigured by escaping steam, 
 the dead and disabled were carried ashore. Among 
 the number was Uncle Jimmy, not dead, but scalded 
 almost beyond the consciousness of pain. All was done 
 that human skill could do to kindle anew the failing 
 life spark but to no purpose, and one night a clergy- 
 
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 '•■'i !': 
 
 " UNCLE jimmy:' 
 
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 man summoned to his bedside administered the holy 
 sacrament, and while a prayer breathed from the lips 
 of the dyin^ man, the failing eyes fastened upon the 
 crucifix, held before him and so remained until the 
 light in them faded — a life unobtrusive yet full of un- 
 spoken patnos was ended. 
 
 The remains were conveyed for interment o the 
 little burial ground at Put-in-Bay. The deceased was 
 without relatives to attend him in his last moments, or 
 to direct his final obsequies, but among the Balhist 
 Island summer patrons were fou»)d friends who, though 
 representatives of wealth and social position, esteemed 
 it a piivilege lo gather at the grave of the humble 
 hermit, to scatter choice flowers abou^ the casket, and 
 to mingle tears of tenderness and sympathy with the 
 earth that Tell upon ii. 
 
 Among these friends was a prominent represent- 
 ative of Ballast resort, by whom a slab of solid marble 
 was afterwards placed above the mound. Upon it the 
 visitor who may chance to wander through the beau- 
 tiful and picturesque island cemetery may read: 
 
 
 )/^ 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 UNCLE JIMMY 
 
 OF BALLAST ISLAND. 
 ERECTED BY HIS FRIEND 
 
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CASTLED GIBRALTAR AND ITS LORD, 
 
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 Peculiarly appropriate as applied to the island in 
 question is the name Gibraltar, since forminjj a mass 
 of rugged rock and poistfd above the surface of Lake 
 Erie within hailing distance of Put-in- Bay, it occupies 
 a conspicuous position in the group — its boldness 
 rendering it an object of striking interest. 
 
 Gibraltar lies opposite "Peach Point," and aids in 
 forming the placid sheet of water known as "Squaw 
 Harbor." 
 
 With natural forest and exhuberant vegetation 
 both wild and cultivated clothing its rocks and cover- 
 ing its whole extent, like an emerald gem in a setting 
 of blue appears the island. 
 
 In its quiet, yet picturesque and striking scenery, 
 Gibraltar takes unquestionably the first place among the 
 islands of the lake —a fact clearly evident to its present 
 proprietor when about thirty years ago it came into 
 his possession, and with the multi-millions at his com- 
 mand he set about fitting it up as the ideal summer 
 abode which it has since become. Especially noted 
 as the summer residence of Jay Cooke — one of Ameri- 
 ca's most noted financiers — is Gibraltar, and his stately 
 villa, crowning castle-like the island's highest eleva- 
 tion, overlooks the treetops, forming a picturesque 
 point in the landscape. 
 
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 272 CASTLED G FDR ALTAR AND ITS LORD. 
 
 "PERRY'S LOOKOUT" AND ''NEEDLE'S EYE." 
 
 All that wealth and cultured taste can suggest 
 combine with natural attractions, and the effect is 
 charming. 
 
 The surface is broken by rock ledges. Romantic 
 paths wind in and out among trees and shrubbery. 
 Floral arbors, niches and caverns, natural and arti- 
 ficial, with rustic huts, bridges and rockeries, appear. 
 There are boats and boat houses, and ample wharves 
 and ornamental structures of various kinds scattered 
 about the grounds. 
 
^. 
 
 uggest 
 ?fect is 
 
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 JAY COOKE. 
 
 Hi ' ' 
 
CASTLED GIBRALTAR AND ITS LORD. 
 
 273 
 
 The shore scenery is marvelously beautiful. Es- 
 pecially interesting are the "Needle's Eye" and the 
 precipitous bluff, from which Commodore Perry 
 watched and waited for the British fleet. The latter, 
 known as "Perry's Lookout," is capped by a flagstaff, 
 and near it is observed a fine monumental design in 
 sculptured granite, commemorating Perry's victory, 
 together with an old cannon used in this historic en- 
 gagement. 
 
 Probably no portion of the visitor's experience at 
 Put in Bay is so dream like and enchanting as a row 
 around Gibraltar when the harvest moon — newly 
 ri>'en — traces its wide pathway across the wateis, 
 silvering its waves, intensifying the shadows among 
 arched ;md cavrrned rocks, and bringing into bold 
 jtrominence every jutting crag. 
 
 Wierdly while among huge fallen rocks lie the 
 moonbeams. They thread the "Needle's Eye," pen- 
 etrate the watery cavern at its base and silver the 
 heights of "Perry's Lookout." They flood the white 
 beaches of cloven shore niches and soften the rugged 
 outlines of the rock masses seamed and rent by vol- 
 canic action in prehistoric times. With a faint breeze 
 astir, may be heard within the chambered passages far 
 under the rocks the reverberations of breaking swells. 
 The tree-clad slope of Gibraltar appears sharply out- 
 lined against the clear sky, and the lights in and 
 around its sheltered villa twinkle through the foliage. 
 
 Both the public and private career of Jay Cooke 
 has been remarkable. As a "Napoleon of finance" he 
 appears on record as having lost and regained a for- 
 tune within the period of five years. 
 
 
 ill:: 
 
 I ':^h 
 
 \v\ 
 
274 
 
 CASTLED GIBRALTAR AND ITS LORD. 
 
 \ t 
 
 t! 
 
 \i .; 
 
 HI 
 
 % 
 
 VILLA OF JAY COOKE-GlBRALTAR. 
 
 During the war of the rebellion Jay Cooke figured 
 more prominently in the monetar}'^ affairs of the 
 nation, undoubtedly, than any other man, and his 
 skillful financiering for the government during its 
 serious embarrassment were such as had never before 
 and has never since been equalled. He was intimately 
 associated in governmental transactions with Secre- 
 tary Chase of the United States treasury, as with his 
 successor Secretary Fessenden, and through his 
 agency the administrations of both were materially 
 strengthened. 
 
CASTLED CrnRALTAR AND ITS LORD. 
 
 27:. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ST. PAUL'S REFORMED EPISCOPAL CHURCH — PUT-IN-BAY. 
 I'li.ilH l.y Ri'v. V. Freil Allen. 
 
 Gibralliir and his Philadelphia country seat were 
 bought back. Tlie latter valued at $i,ooc,ooo and 
 still in his possession, is known as "Ojjfontz," named 
 after a Seneca chieftain of Sandusky bay with whom 
 Mr. Cooke played when a child. 
 
 The benefactions of Jay Cooke are many, a certain 
 percentage of his annual income being systematically set 
 aside for reliuious work and charities. A monument 
 of the banker's beneficence along this line is seen in 
 the Put-in-Bay R. E. church and rectory, built several 
 years ago through his efforts. Large quantities of 
 books and pictures are from time to time distributed 
 b}' him among members of the church and Sunday 
 school, and among the island people generally. 
 
 it 
 
 i 
 
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M 
 
 'y< 
 
 'If 
 
 276 
 
 CASTLED GIBRALTAR AND ITS LORD. 
 
 mm 
 
 ^ i 
 
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 At one time when the government was sorely 
 pressed for the where-with-all to pay its military rep- 
 resentatives in the field, the division known as the 
 Army of the Potomac was paid off with money 
 advanced by Jay Cooke, who received in exchange 
 United States bonds covering the amount. 
 
 Of Mr. Cooke it is related that once in company 
 with Gen. Bates, Secretary Chase and President Lincoln, 
 he went to see reviewed by Gen. McClelland the 
 Pennsylvania Reserve corps, which to organize and 
 equip he had advanced the money. 
 
 On another occasion before the fall of Richmond, 
 Jay Cooke, Jr., visited Gen. Grant. Referring to Mr. 
 Cooke's many favors to the government the latter ob- 
 served: 
 
 '*] want you to tell your father for me, that it is to 
 him more than to any other man that the people of this 
 country will be indebted for the continued life of the 
 nation." 
 
 One of the great enterprises undertaken by Mr. 
 Cooke was the building of the Northern Pacific rail- 
 road but before the work was fully begun, and the 
 $50,000,000 bonds for the same deposited in Europe, 
 the Franco-Prussian war broke out, and compli- 
 cations in European finances arising, forced Mr. Cooke 
 into bankruptcy. To his creditors he turned over 
 every dollar of his property, including his Philadelphia 
 homestead and his summer residence at Gibraltar. 
 However, through native sagacity, energy and enter- 
 prise, the unfortunate banker regained all that was lost, 
 and was again upon his feet, having paid every dollar 
 of his indebtedness. 
 
sorely 
 T rep- 
 as ihe 
 money 
 change 
 
 mpany 
 .incoln, 
 id the 
 ze and 
 
 imond, 
 to Mr. 
 ter ob- 
 
 
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 It IS to 
 
 of this 
 
 I of the 
 
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 compli- 
 Cooke 
 d over 
 delphia 
 braltar. 
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CASTLED GIBRALTAR AND ITS LORD. 
 
 277 
 
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 SPHINX HEAD-GIBRALTAR, 
 
 Twice a year during the spring and fall bass fish- 
 ing seasons, Jay Cooke visits Gibraltar for the purpose 
 of indulging his piscatorial fancy. He is known as a 
 veteran at the rod and reel, and can catch more bass in 
 a day than any patron who visits Put-in- Ha}'. Un- 
 like the average bass fisherman. Jay Cooke never fishes 
 on Sunday, but may always be found in his pew in the 
 Put- in-Bay church. Excepting when on piscatorial 
 excursions, he seldom visits his isi 'J resort, but its 
 doors are nevertheless open throughout the summer 
 
 ,ij,fcfi 
 
i 
 
 f 
 
 III 
 
 
 
 
 1. 
 
 i ; 
 
 
 278 
 
 CASTLED GIBRALTAR AND ITS LORD, 
 
 season to his children, grandchildren and friends, in- 
 cluding the Barney and Butler families and the families 
 of Rev. Harry Cooke and Jay Cooke Jr. Rev. Cooke 
 is a devoted young man who is giving his life to the 
 ministry, not hecause of its returns as a means of sup- 
 port, but because his heart is in the work. 
 
 ii 
 
 'AAX 
 
 B* :; 
 
'if p 
 
 ids, in- 
 
 ■amilies 
 
 Cooke 
 
 to the 
 
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 JOHNSON'S ISLAND; 
 
 Burial Ground of the Gmfederate Dead* 
 
 Next in historical importance to Put-in-Bay ranks 
 Johnson's Island, rendered famous during the Southern 
 rebellion as a place for the confinement of Confederate 
 prisoners, 3,000 of whom— all commissioned officers — 
 representing the flower of the Southern army, were 
 held in serveillance. 
 
 Johnson's Island is a strip of land one and one-half 
 miles in length, and containing about 275 acres, lying 
 near the mouth of Sandusky bay and three miles from 
 Sandusky city. 
 
 In early days this body of land was known as 
 "Bull's" Island, E. W. Bull, a pioneer of the lake region, 
 having been its original owner. In 1852 it became the 
 property of Leonard B. Johnson, and from that date has 
 borne its present name. 
 
 During the war with the British and Indians in 181 2, 
 and in the struggle of the Canadian "patriots" in 1838, 
 Johnson's Island figured more or less conspicuously, 
 but it was not until the war of the rebellion that the 
 place achieved historical prominence of a national char- 
 acter. 
 
 In 1862 the island was first used as a military prison 
 post. The extensive grounds serving this purpose 
 were enclosed by a fence or wall twelve feet high, with 
 around the top, along which sentinels paced 
 
 a parapet 
 night and day. 
 
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 JOHNSON'S ISLAND. 
 
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 Lines of barracks for the prisoners, headquarter^ for 
 officers of the guard, a fort, a prison hospital, and last, 
 but not least in melancholy importance, a burial ground, 
 became adjuncts to the military occupation of Johnson's 
 Island. 
 
 In addition to a strong guard of Federal troops 
 placed over the prisoners, the United States gunboat 
 Michigan was detailed for duty and lay at anchor in the 
 bay with her guns primed and ready at a moment's alarm 
 to sweep the prison grounds with a full broadside. 
 
 No complete history in detail of prison life at John- 
 son's Island has ever been written, but judging from the 
 many articles and sketches of a fragmentary character 
 which have appeared from time to time in newspapers 
 and periodicals, a narration of the reminiscences to 
 which its possession by the United States government 
 as a military prison gave rise, would fill a volume. 
 
 The one absorbing thought naturally uppermost in 
 the minds of prisoners thus exiled, was comprehended 
 in the word — freedom. The remote little isle, laved 
 upon every side by the bay waters, afforded meager 
 chance of escape, for were the prisoners success- 
 ful in evading the guards and in scaling the stock- 
 ade, they could get no farther than the shores. The 
 only possible opportunity afforded for reaching the 
 mainland was in winter when bay and lake were frozen. 
 Inventive genius was then exhausted in devising plans 
 of escape, but which, though cleverly laid, miscarried 
 in almost every instance. An exceptional case is re- 
 corded atj follows: 
 
 "The frigidly cold night of Jan. i, 1864, is remem- 
 bered by the prisoners, when the mercury sank to 26 
 
er^ for 
 id last, 
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 JOHNSON'S ISLAND. 
 
 281 
 
 degrees below zero. The coal oil in the lamps lighting 
 the prison grounds froze and the lights were all extin- 
 guished. 
 
 "The five daring men are also recalled who that 
 night mounted the walls and crossed over the ice to San- 
 dusky city, three miles distant. Two of the men were 
 su nearly frozen to death as to be compelled to lie over 
 at the houses of citizens and be recaptured, the remain- 
 ing three having reached British possessions, thereby 
 achieving liberty. They then traveled 500 miles over 
 deep snows to the mouth of the St. Lawrence, where 
 they set sail for Havana, from which point they ran the 
 blockade at Wilmington and joined their commands. 
 Col. John R. Winston of North Carolina was the leader 
 of this adventure." 
 
 At Johnson's Island, in 1864, was enacted the lead- 
 ing events of a notable conspiracy to which reference 
 has already been made in this work, namely: The at- 
 tempt on the part of the Southern Confederacy through 
 its agents to capture the United States gunboat Michi- 
 gan and lake transports of the Detroit, Island and San- 
 duvsky lines, and the simultaneous release of the rebel 
 prisoners fconfined* at Johnson's Island, at Camp Chase 
 near Columbus, at Camp Douglass near Chicago, and 
 at Camp Morton near Indianapolis —in all about 26,000 
 men. 
 
 Hatched at the Confederate capitol, this plot was 
 carried forward by a few sworn adherents, chief of 
 whom were Colonel Cole, an officer in the army of Gen- 
 eral Lee, and John Yates Beall. The former was 
 called to Richmond and there entrusted with this secret 
 service. Colonel Cole is said to have been a man of 
 
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 282 
 
 yO/LVSOJV'S ISLAND, 
 
 wonderful coolness and courage, as well as of ample re- 
 sources, though to all appearances a coarse, uncultured 
 man. Beall on the contrary was a handsome, well 
 educated young man, a West Virginian, and an officer 
 in the Confederate navy. 
 
 The "woman in the case" was Annie Davis, a fe- 
 male spy, who played skillfully her part in the drama. 
 
 The first move on the part of Cole was to open a 
 correspondence with one of the Johnson's Island prison- 
 ers — Major Trimble. This correspondence was car- 
 ried on through ink-written letters interlined with im- 
 portant messages written in starch, and afterwards 
 rendered visible by an application of iodine. 
 
 Through Major Trimble was organized among the 
 prisoners a society known as "The Southern Cross," 
 having for its emblem a wooden cross twined with the 
 Confederate colors. Its members were bound by iron- 
 clad oaths, administered on the open Bible, to hold 
 themselves in readiness, when the time came, to strike 
 at once a blow for personal liberty and the Southern 
 cause. They were also bound to the most solemn 
 secrecy. 
 
 While Beall and about twenty picked men were 
 detailed to capture by strategy the steamers Island 
 Queen and Philo Parsons, Annie Davis, then located 
 at the West House, Sandusky, was industriously work- 
 ing up the plot's initial feature — the capture of the 
 Michigan — by first capturing by the wiles of coquetry 
 her officers and eliciting from them information con- 
 cerning matters military at Johnson's Island and San- 
 dusky. 
 
 Woman, not only, but wine was employed by 
 

 JOHNSOXS ISLAND 
 
 283 
 
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 In were 
 Island 
 llocated 
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 in con- 
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 red by 
 
 sagacious Colonel Cole in addling the brains and draw- 
 ing into his meshes the unsuspecting naval oflicers, and 
 a champagne supper served by him aboard the Michi- 
 gan on the night set for the culmination of the con- 
 spiracy came within an ace of placing the vessel and 
 her command in the hands ol the rebels. 
 
 The convivial cup had gone its rounds until as the 
 hours of night wore on, the party had become mellow 
 and merry. For the closing draught, however, was 
 reserved a potion heavily drugged, which Cole was 
 about to deal out, when suddenly confronted by the 
 commanding ofllcer, who had been absent during this 
 time at Johnson's Island. 
 
 Advancing, the otTicer laid his hand upon Cole's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "You d — n rebel spy! • Vou are my prisoner!" he 
 hissed. 
 
 "Sergeant-of-m irines, arrest this man and put him 
 in irons!" 
 
 Had a torpedo suddenly exploded under the Mich- 
 igan her otlicers could scarcely have been more com- 
 pletely dumfounded. 
 
 Having successfully performed his allotted task 
 and obtained possession of the two island steamers, 
 Beall on board the Philo Parsons awaited off Cedar 
 Point the signal agreed upon — a cannon shot from the 
 Michigan — to attack and capture the gunboat and to 
 assist the prisoners at the island, who were to rise at 
 the same time in insurrection, overpower the guards and 
 make good their escape. 
 
 The signal came not, however, and realizing that 
 
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 284 
 
 JOHNSOX'S ISLAND. 
 
 THE REMAINING BLOCK HOUSE, 
 
 the plot had failed, the Parsons, at Beall's command, 
 was put about and headed with all speed for Canada. 
 
 Up to the afternoon of that day every part of the 
 bold project had worked like a charm, but as after- 
 wards generally learned, the plans of the conspirators 
 were given away when nearly completed by one of the 
 prisoners. 
 
 Cole was closely confined and guarded at Johnson's 
 Island, and later was tried by a military court martial 
 and sentenced to be shot, but ultimately through influ- 
 ential friends obtained pardon. While leader of the 
 conspiracy, and as such more deserving of punishment, 
 Cole went free, while his abettor, cultured and 
 courteous Beall, was executed as a spy at Gouverneur's 
 Island in New York bay. 
 
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 285 
 
 
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 Not much now remains on Johnson's Island to re- 
 mind the visitor of the tragic scenes there enacted, save 
 a few stragghng rem.iants of the prison buildings and 
 the cemetery where lie buried 206 Confederate dead. 
 Georgia marble headstones, inscribed with the name, 
 age, company and regiment of each, were erected 
 over these graves in 1890 through the instrumentality 
 of Mr. John T. Mack, of Sandusky, and a party of 
 Georgia newspaper men and prominent horticulturists 
 who visited the place in 1889 and saw its neglected 
 condition. 
 
 Previous to that time the burial site presented a 
 scene of neglect. The writer was privileged once to 
 view the spot before the ertction of these tablets, the 
 occasion being the decoration of the graves on Memorial 
 day by a detachment of McMeens Post, G. A. R. of 
 Sandusky. 
 
 After a run of twenty minutes the steamer upon 
 which we took passage landed her passengers at a little 
 dock that put out from shore. Headed by a drum corps 
 and a flag bearer, the detachment took up its line of 
 march for the burial place, distant nearly a mile, fol- 
 lowed by a procession of people. There was no path, 
 save that trodden by those who led. Following the 
 shore bend, with the blue waters of Erie to the right, on 
 the left a sloping sweep of grass land rolled its billowy 
 verdure to the edge of a distant timber belt. This grassy 
 plain was the site upon which had once been located 
 the prison grounds. Remnants of the old barracks and 
 other buildings were pointed out. The windows were 
 broken and their exterior appeau'd weather beaten and 
 ghostly. Startled by clang of drums and tlap of Hags, 
 
 
 [til 
 
 ■f'A' 
 
 I 
 
 im 
 
 'i:^ 
 
286 
 
 /OH ARSON'S ISLAND. 
 
 
 T^ir,3%^^^ 
 
 POWDER MAGAZINE. 
 
 i li A 
 
 a few horses and cattle (^razin<j^ amidst the deep grass 
 scurried away to the farthest bouncis of the pasture. 
 
 The procession continued its march, beating through 
 rank grass and over piles of drift wood and ridges of 
 gravel, which the high seas of recent storm^s liad lodged 
 in the edge of the meadow. 
 
 Leaving the shore line the path swerved a little to 
 the left, leading through a thicket so dense th<it a 
 passage would not have been practicable bun for the 
 opening previously made with ax and scythe. The 
 underbrush rinally merged into a strio of forest and liere 
 in a spot as lonely as was ever selected for tlte ourial of 
 the dead, under branches low bending, amid strt^adows 
 and silence, appeared long row.^ of soddLen muunds, 
 marked only by wooden headboards bearmg eacli the 
 name and age of deceased, together w: h the number of 
 the command to which he had belongeU. These head 
 
 
JOHNSOA'S ISLAND. 
 
 287 
 
 
 
 BURIAL GROUND. SHOWING WOODEN HEADSTONES ORIGINALLY ERECTED. 
 
 boards had been painted vvliite, but the storms of more 
 than a quarter ot a century had worn them grey, and 
 most of them had fallen to the ground. Though dim, 
 nearly all tlie inscriptions were still legible and a mourn- 
 ful pathos breathed in the language thereby spoken. 
 Gazing upon the scene, visions of homes amid the orange 
 and magnolia groves of the sunny southland appeared, 
 desolated by the removal of those who rest in this little 
 isle far from the ministering hands of kindred and friends, 
 with only the northern tempest's beat and the breaking 
 waves of a northern sea lulling them to the sleep that 
 knows no waking. 
 
 
 M 
 
288 
 
 JOHNSOA'S ISLAND. 
 
 i, I. i 
 
 i\ i 
 
 |i: \i 
 
 With uncovered heads, in which the grey freely 
 mingled, the veteran band gathered about the graves 
 of those with whom they had once closed in deadly 
 conflict. There were empty sleeves and scars that told 
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 charity and a feeling of common brotherhood now 
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 still air, but drooped silently, letting fall its silken folds 
 where slept the brave but misguided sons of the South. 
 Fair flow»irs were placed by fair hands upon the 
 mounds already sprinkled with wildwood blossoms. 
 
 A prayer, a brief address, a benediction, and the dead 
 were again left to the shadows and the silence. 
 
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 "BROWN SUGAR." 
 
 A Reminiscense of Sandusky Bay* 
 
 On a tiny projection an isolated dwelling reared 
 its unpretentious walls. Though deeply sequestered, 
 the spot was highly romantic. Above low levels of 
 swamp land and stretches of black water, the point 
 rose perceptibly with suggestions of an island, which 
 it had undoubtedly been at no very remote period 
 when the bav extended farther inland. 
 
 The broken edges of the little plateau were edged 
 about with the tall, feathery plumes of the wild rice 
 plant, intermixed with rank reeds, rushes and "cat- 
 tails." Willow copses and a few^ forest and orchard 
 trees covered most of the remaining portion and seen 
 through foliage of mixed greens, the black roof and 
 weather-stained walls of the dwelling appeared strik- 
 ingly picturesque. It was deeply banked with Golden 
 Rod, now all aflame, and wild Rose of Sharon in full 
 bloom, and the brillianc}^ and prodigality of color dis- 
 played blended in pleasing effect with the surrounding 
 greenery. 
 
 Close by the house a winding pathway led to a 
 rude dock beside which two or three boats rocked in 
 the sunshine. Directly ahead and to left and right 
 glinted the still dark waters, broken near and far by 
 numerous small capes and promontories everywhere 
 clothed with the rankest vegetation. Acres of wild 
 
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 290 
 
 BROWN SUGAR'' 
 
 rice and reeds pricked above the surface, and vast 
 floating islands of water lillies bowed gracefully their 
 broad le^Jves and creamv blossoms to the incominij 
 swell, which like a gentle tide rolled far up the bay 
 when the wind was easterly and Lake Erie in com- 
 motion. Marine ph;nls flourished luxuriantly under 
 the water, and trailing masses of weed, vivid j^reen in 
 color, floated to the surface and frequently impeded 
 the paddle wheels of the small tugs and steamers that 
 ventured through the upper bay to the river beyond 
 A line of buoys m:irked the winding, deep water 
 channel without which these craft would have been 
 lost in the mtricate maze. 
 
 The waters were alive with fish, and turtles, tad- 
 poles, snakes and frogs abounded. The dense tangles 
 formed a rendezvous for wild duck, marsh hen, loon 
 and bittern. Troops of birds frequented the shores, 
 and game of every description was plentiful. The 
 whole region up and down the bay formed a favored 
 resort for hunters and anglers, and boat loads of these 
 sportsmen were constantly abroad. 
 
 The house on the little promontory was the only 
 human habitation visible. It was the home of Pete 
 Mathews, a bay shore farmer. Mathews owned a 
 large tract of rich farming lands adjacent, but had 
 chosen to build in this lonely place. Of neighbors, 
 such as they were, he had plenty. Gulls and eagles 
 screamed over his roof by day, and owls hooted him 
 to sleep at night, but he had prospered, and from 
 humble beginnings had evoluted into a producer on a 
 large scale ot wheat, corn and potatoes which an- 
 nually yielded him abundant crops. 
 
''BROWN SUGARr 
 
 291 
 
 He kept a hired man the year round, and his wife 
 a hired j^irl durin*( the wsummer months; for a thrifty- 
 housewife was Mistress Mathews, and she made 
 stacks of butler, besides entertaining^ summer boarders 
 — sportsmen and rusticators - from the cities who 
 came to hunt, to fish and to run wild. 
 
 The weather iiad been wet, wilh intermitting hot 
 sunshine, and the weeds were tiirealenin^' to clioke 
 out the garden vegetables, and Pete's wife had been 
 tr\ ing to head them off. Weary and overheated she 
 turned at last low.ird the house, left in charge of ' 
 Cassie, the hired girl. She found the screen door 
 open, the kitclien full of flies and mosquitoes, a kettle 
 of bean porridge scorching on the stove, but no 
 Cassie. It was twenty minutes to six, Mr. Bronson, 
 the boarder, Pete the householder and husbandman, 
 and Philander, the hired man, would soon be in to 
 supper and i\o\. even the kettle over. 
 
 "I declare to goodness if it don't beat all with that 
 girl!" 
 
 "I don't see what's comin' over her to be so 
 ker'less and shiftless all to once." 
 
 "She's out front flirtin' with them city fellers" — 
 said Pete entering at that moment. 
 
 For half an hour, ('assie had watched so intently 
 the path leading to the dock as to completely forget 
 her household duties Going to and fro between the 
 place where their boats lay, and "Walton" Hotel at 
 which they sojourned, — a mile back from shore, — 
 two sportsmen had passed the house frequently of late. 
 To all appearances they were gentlemen. Both were 
 
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 292 
 
 ''DROWN SUGARr 
 
 extremely polite, and one of the number had paid espe- 
 cial deference to Cassie. 
 
 Now Cassie — pretty, piquant, and saucy — was not 
 averse to an occasional flirtation. Though of irreproach- 
 able character, a simple, unsophisticated country 
 girl was she, easily flattered and imposed upon, and the 
 smiles and graceful gallantries bestowed by Mr. Frank 
 Harrow were most effective in turning her little head 
 besides giving Philander a world of trouble, since for 
 .months past the poor fellow had been assiduous in his 
 attentions to the girl and she had given him reason to 
 hope. 
 
 Having put over the tea kettle. Mistress Mathews 
 stepped to the front window. 
 
 "Cassie, Cassie !" she called. 
 
 The girl was leaning against the pump, her blonde 
 frizzes flying all about, her cheeks a rich bloom. 
 
 In a lively tilt with Harrow she was flinging chrewd 
 repartees with rapidity and effect. 
 
 "1 must go" — Mrs. Mathews' imperative voice had 
 at last recalled Cassie's wandering thoughts. 
 
 "Take this then with my compliments" — said 
 Harrow tossing her a water lily. He lifted his hat, 
 and with a smile and graceful wave of the hand passr 
 ed on. 
 
 Hiding the flower under her apron, Cassie hurried 
 into the house where she made peace with her mis- 
 tress as best she could. 
 
 Tenderly nurtured, that lily continued for several 
 days to exhale its fragrance, Cassie having placed it in 
 a vase of water in her room. 
 
 Again and again they met, he the handsome, 
 
^ 
 
 '' BROWN sugar:' 
 
 293 
 
 d espe- 
 
 ^as not 
 3roach- 
 :ountry 
 ind the 
 
 Frank 
 e head 
 nee for 
 
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 dsome, 
 
 faultlessly dressed, alfable, and af^reeable city man, she 
 the pretty, but crude and inexperienced country girl. 
 One day while hanging out the week's wash, a boy 
 from Walton Hotel delivered to her a letter. The 
 missive was scented with Attar of Roses and enclosed 
 witliin a dainty envelope. Hastily opening, she read 
 as ioll(JWs : 
 
 Waf/pon Hotel, Sept. i8th, i8 — . 
 My Dear Little Girl: 
 
 "You will doubtless think strange that I should ad- 
 dress you, but the fact is I am writing because 1 can't 
 help it. If you could only realize »"hat a lovely little 
 witch you are and how perfectly irresistible to me you 
 have become, you would understand and excuse lan- 
 guage which might otherwise seem extravagant." 
 
 "Now that yuu have so completely charmed me, 
 
 my bonny bird, I must beg the pleasure of your further 
 acquaintance." 
 
 "When the moon casts her pale light over the bay 
 and the stars blink forth, will you not meet me down 
 at the boat landing about eight o'clock, say. To- 
 gether we will row over the glistening waters and for- 
 get all else save each other, then will I tell you of all 
 that is in my heart. Yours devotedly, 
 
 "Frank Harrow." 
 
 With puzzled look and flushing cheeks Cassie 
 entered the house. A few hours later Harrow and 
 Duffree, his companion, passed by on their way to the 
 dock. Harrow cast furtive glances toward the house 
 but failed to get sight of Cassie. He looked disap- 
 pointed, and on reaching the willow thickets proposed 
 halting under the cool shadow, for the day was sultry. 
 
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 ''BROWX sugar: 
 
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 Seate.l on a lojr in full view of the house, each lit a 
 ci<;ar, but Cassie very obstinately kept out of si<^ht. 
 
 "What's amiss up yonder, Harrow?" queried Duf- 
 free. 
 
 "Oh, the pretty dove is 1 iding out of sheer modesty, 
 that's all," replied the other carelessly. 
 
 '*You are really mashed on her then?" 
 
 "Well, yes I suppose that I might as well make the 
 admission." 
 
 "And how about the dreamy eyed Creole. You 
 don't propose this little rustic to take her place?" 
 
 "Of course, Nita and I have had frequent quarrels 
 of late, and to tell the truth she has lost her hold upon 
 me. But there'll be hearts enough open to receive a 
 woman of her imposing style." 
 
 "But don't vou know that a bird in the hand is 
 worth two in the bush. You might experience some 
 difficulty in gaining this girl's conHdence." 
 
 "Leave me alone for that, Duffree; she is is of a 
 simple and confiding nature, you know. It would be 
 quite an easy matter to make her believe the moon 
 is made of "green cheese." 
 
 "By the way, I've just thought of a name that ad- 
 mirably fits my new divmity." 
 
 "And what might it be?" 
 
 "Brown Sugar." 
 
 "And the application, or signification?" 
 
 Don't you comprehend?" 
 
 "I call her Brown Sugar because she's sweet but 
 unrefined." 
 
 "Ah !" and Duffree laughed. 
 
 "How about your wife, Harrow?" 
 
BROWN SUGARr 
 
 295 
 
 "Arn't you afraid she'll get an inkling of your 
 little escapades some timer" 
 
 **0h no, I guess there'll be no danger. I've 
 always poised is a dutiful and indulgent husband and 
 she's a trusting creature.'* 
 
 "Vou dog !" 
 
 "Well, if I'm a dog you're another." 
 
 "Yes, but I have no wife." 
 
 "But for existing circumstances I should be glad if 
 I had none, but my wife holds the ducats, you know, 
 and to kick out of the matrimonial traces would make 
 it bad for a fellow who has nothing of his own, see?" 
 
 "I will find some agreeable position for my little 
 country girl and my wife will be none the wiser." 
 
 "First catch your bird/' returned Duffree. 
 
 "Oh, there'll be no trouble. These green country 
 girls are the most credulous beings in the world, as 
 well as the most devoted," 
 
 "Pm not so sure of what you say. It strikes me 
 that your new fancy has a mind and will of her own." 
 
 This was part of a conversation, supposed to be 
 confidential, held between the two sports. They little 
 dreamed of a listener, but by chance it happened that 
 Philander was on the opposite side of the copse mend- 
 ing gill nets and had heard all. As soon as the men 
 left the place he hastened to Cassie with his newly 
 acquired information. When he had concluded the re- 
 cital Cassie went up stairs and threw the unoffending 
 water lily out of the window. 
 
 That night at eight o'clock when the moon rose 
 over the bay, Frank Harrow paced back and forth over 
 the rough planking of the dock, but Cassie did not 
 
 
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 296 
 
 ''BROWN SUGARr 
 
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 come. A long time he waited, but finally retired vexed 
 and disappointed. 
 
 For successive days he saw nothing of the girl, but 
 not to be outwitted, he resolved to make her a call. 
 
 Supper was over at Pete Mathews'. Cassie had 
 washed and put away the dishes, and arrayed in a blue 
 gingham sunbonnet was starting for the barn to feed 
 a late spring calf there ensconsed. With a pail of bran 
 and milk, thickly stirred together, in her hand, the 
 rustic beauty was suddenly transfixed by hearing Frank 
 Harrow speak her name. 
 
 "How do you do, Miss Cassie, I hope you are well." 
 
 There was an ominous pause. 
 
 "Not having seen you for some time, I thought I 
 would call and inquire for your health." 
 
 A sudden redness flashed over Cassie's features. 
 For answer her pretty, but athletic arm gave a convul- 
 sive swing and the contents of the pail went full into 
 Harrow's face and ran down his enamelled shirt front. 
 Splashes of the mixture decorated his beaver and 
 coursed sluggishl}' down his coat sleeves, vest front and 
 trouser legs. 
 
 Never in all his experience had Harrow received so 
 complete a surprise and he was struck speechless with 
 amazement. Having rubbed the gluten from his eyes 
 and dripping moustache he at last found his tongue. 
 
 "What in thunder do you mean? " he roared. 
 
 "V/hat have I done to deserve such villainous 
 treatment? You hussy, how dare you perpetrate such 
 an infernal outrage? " 
 
 "That comes of mashin round 'oreen country' 
 girls," said Philander significantly. 
 
ed vexed 
 
 girl, but 
 a call, 
 issie had 
 in a blue 
 n to feed 
 ill of bran 
 land, the 
 n^r Frank 
 
 5» 
 
 ire well. 
 
 bought I 
 
 features, 
 a convul- 
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 lirt front, 
 aver and 
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 iceived so 
 iless with 
 1 his eyes 
 ongue. 
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 villainous 
 rate such 
 
 country' 
 
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 297 
 
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 "Next time you and your pal talk over your love 
 affairs, you'd better look on 'tother side of the copse to 
 see if there be any to hear." 
 
 The air of offended dignity which Harrow had as- 
 sumed now gave way to a look of blank dismay. 
 
 "Better take yourself off, mister, fast as yer legs'll 
 let you, ef you don't want damages to the extent of a 
 broken head.'' 
 
 Harrow took one look at the burly six footer and 
 hastily quitted the scene. 
 
 The next mDrning he bade adieu to Walton Hotel. 
 
 "Business," he explained, called him back to the city. 
 
 "How's sporting up the bay, Harrow? " queried an 
 acquaintance whom he met on reaching his destination. 
 
 "Tame — played out, in fact," was the moody reply. 
 
 "Ah, indeed! " Then assuming a confidential tone: 
 
 "By the way, pard, what's, wrong between you and 
 your wife: " 
 
 "Me and my wife?" 
 
 "Not anything, man!" 
 
 "Then I guess you haven't heard the news. She's 
 tiled a petition for divorce." 
 
 "What! no, that can't be possible!" 
 
 "But it is possible." 
 
 "On what grounds?" 
 
 "Don't know. I hear there's a woman in the case 
 as usual, also a letter; that's all I know." 
 
 It was with some misgivings, cloaked under an out- 
 ward guise of nonchalance, that Harrow reached his 
 home on the avenue and confronted his wife. That 
 Nita had made trouble was his inward thought. To 
 his wife, however, he coolly put the question : 
 
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 298 ''BROWN SUGARr 
 
 "What's the row?" * 
 
 For answer she quietly handed him a letter which 
 read as follows: 
 
 "Wild Duck Point, Sept. 2, 18 — . 
 
 *" Derc Mrs, Harrozu: 
 
 "I write these few lines to let you know something 
 what I think vou ouj'-ht to kn.w. Our border, Mr. 
 Bronson, says he knows you and Mr. Harrow both. 
 He says you live close to where he does and that you 
 air a real nice woman, and he is sorry that you have 
 such a skalawag for u man. 
 
 "I send you a letter what Mr. Harrow wrote me 
 yesterday, by which you can see how he carries sail 
 when he's away from home. If you want to know 
 any more, Philander Smith, our hired man, can tell you 
 a lot about him. Yours truly, 
 
 "Cassie Hart." 
 
 Harrow was visibly agitated when he had finished 
 reading. 
 
 "And where is the letter enclosed ? " he asked. 
 
 "In the hands of my attorney; but here's a copy." 
 
 Harrow was thus afforded an opportunity of pe- 
 rusing a reproduction of his epistle to Cassie. 
 
 The next outing season Frank Harrow was not 
 among the guests at Walton Hotel. With the assist- 
 ance of Philander and Cassie as principal witnesses, 
 Mrs. Harrow had procured a divorce and with all her 
 possessions had forsaken her lord. As a second rate 
 clerk in a lawyer's office Harrow was now afforded an 
 opportunity of making himself "useful as well as orna- 
 mental." 
 
 \k 
 
r which 
 8—. 
 
 nething 
 ir, Mr. 
 V both, 
 lat you 
 u have 
 
 "Ote me 
 ies sail 
 > know 
 tell you 
 
 '' BROWN SUGARS 299 
 
 As to morals, he finds it easier living up to the com- 
 mon standard of virtue on a small salary than it had 
 been with an unlimited supply of "ducats" at command- 
 but any reference to "Brown Sugar" makes him visibly 
 wmce. -^ 
 
 Cassie's summer time fancy was effectually dissi- 
 pated and she returned at once to her allegiance A 
 month later Philander and Cassie were legally and 
 securely knotted. 
 
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WHAT THE DRIFT BROUGHT ASHORE 
 
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 lli' 
 
 i M 
 
 A fog — the densest ever known in the archipelago 
 — shrouded lake and land, shutting from view sur- 
 rounding objects. Condensing vapors dripped drearily 
 from grey gables and naked boughs; and a silence 
 impressive and profound as if all the world were dead 
 reigned unbroken. 
 
 It was early spring and the ice was breaking and 
 sluggishly running in the island passages, carried along 
 by shifting currents though scarce a breath of wind 
 stirred. 
 
 A more dismal day had never dawned upon "Wil- 
 low Point" — so at least thought Mittie McKay, while 
 seated by the kitchen window she knit lace, and watch- 
 ed her father at work as with ax aswing he whacked 
 away at the long, strong bolts and oaken timbers of 
 an old wreck — a dismasted schooner — that lay amidst 
 the driftwood and debris brought in by the waves and 
 piled into winrows. 
 
 In vain had Mittie tried to pierce with her sharp 
 eyes the obscurity. She could not see even the big, 
 black buoy on Chenook reef. So nicely scumbled 
 and blended by the fog were sky and water that the 
 whole perspective seemed a single sweep of sky that 
 reached to earth, and the only animate objects visible 
 in all the illimitable expanse were the nearer floes 
 adrift in the dark Water and appearing like white 
 
 ■ hi MH''^: 
 
WHA r THE DRIFT BROUGHT ASHORE. 
 
 301 
 
 clouds on a leaden background. The effect was strik- 
 ing, but too devoid of life for a girl like IVIitlie, and she 
 withdrew her gaze from the colorless scene to that in the 
 foreground representing her father, his swinging ax, 
 and the broken and denuded ribs of the wrecked 
 schooner. 
 
 Mittie's mouth had a perceptible droop at the 
 corners, and her eyes a misty expression borrowed from 
 the fog, and once when the thread kinked form- 
 ing an obstinate knot, a frown wrinkled her smooth 
 brow. Mittie's feelings were evidently in sympathy 
 with the weather. For her on this dun colored dav the 
 old wreck had a peculiar fascination. 
 
 Nameless, it had come ashore about a year pre- 
 vious, on the sweep of a mighty storm, from whence 
 nobody knew. 
 
 "What a fit emblem of life is that old hulk" — soli- 
 loquized the girl. 
 
 "We launch forth with fair prospects, and further- 
 ing gales only to fetch up on some desolate shore hope- 
 lessly broken and battered." 
 
 The sad case of the beached wreck seemed anal~ 
 agous to her own, and her eyes tilled with tears at its 
 contemplation. 
 
 Now, considering the fact that Mittie was a bright, 
 pretty girl of only twenty years, the idea of comparing 
 herself to that old bare-boned carcass seemed absurd. 
 Nevertheless, she was just now very, very miserable. 
 It was all in consequence of a quarrel between her and 
 Santa Smith. Mittie and the young man had been af- 
 fianced lovers when ;; misunderstanding occurred. 
 Pride and resentment on both sides widened the breach 
 
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■^PNHiva 
 
 303 
 
 U HAT THE DRIFT DROUGHT ASHORE. 
 
 \ \%^. 
 
 ■ 3 
 
 finally resultinf^ in complete enstran^ement. To nnake 
 matters worse, Santa had begun paying attention to 
 Stella Pierce, the Willow Point school mistress — a-flip, 
 flirty, frizzle headed girl of eighteen; smart enough and 
 good enough looking, but given to gush and a pro- 
 nounced giggler. 
 
 This girl, who had gained the young man's prefer- 
 ence, was two whole years younger than Mittie — a 
 circumstance which caused the latter to feel very 
 much like an old maid, and probably suggested the 
 doleful analogy between herself and the old wreck. 
 
 As the thread continued to knot, Mittie continued 
 to frown, until she suddenly caught a reflection of her face 
 in a mirror. What a fright she was making of herself! 
 Petulance then gave way to more tender feelings and 
 she began to cry. She couldn't help it with the day so 
 dull and her heart so heavy, for in spite of her linger- 
 ing resentment she still loved Santa truly, devotedly, 
 and he cared naught for her. 
 
 While in this tearful plight, her father, Mike Mc- 
 Kay, entered with an armful of firewood. 
 
 j;A March fog^ 
 
 Will freeze a May dog" — 
 
 Sagely quoted the old man. 
 
 "My, what nasty weather!" 
 
 He was damp and shivering from the chill fog 
 without, and cramming the stove with wood spread 
 his hands in front of the open hearth. 
 
 "Hullo there, what's the matter?" he queried catch- 
 ing a view of Mittie's tear stained countenance. 
 
 "Mourning over Santa Smith, Santa l*Iariah or 
 some other Santa — as 1 live. 
 
n 
 
 'at 
 
 IV//A T THE DRIFT BROUGHT ASHORE. 
 
 303 
 
 "No, I a'int," — she replied testily. 
 "But I know you are." 
 
 "Never mourn over such a circumstance, girl, for 
 don't you know — " 
 
 'Theres plenty of fish in the sea, 
 As good as ever were caught." 
 
 Seeing that the subject was painful to his daughter, 
 Mike thought best to change it. 
 
 "Heigh oh! we're getting a breeze at last. Hear 
 the wind roar. Now 1 hope the fog '11 lift." 
 
 At this moment the sound of a bell was borne to the 
 ears of father and daughter. It was a church bell at 
 the port a mile distant. Its tones were sonorous, and as 
 it continued ringing the listeners looked inquisitively at 
 each other. 
 
 "Some one lost in the fog," suggested Mittie. 
 
 "Must be so," returned the father. 
 
 "Most like it's the mail carrier and party. Pete 
 Mooney said the mail hadn't arrived yet when he left 
 the harbor and it was then two hours overdue. Pete 
 went b}' about fifteen minutes ago." 
 
 "The carrier had a compass along, of course, but 
 what with the currents and running ice, it might do 
 him little good; for should the boat drift out of her 
 course so as to miss the island, the compass would only 
 guide him out into the open lake." 
 
 "How dreadful to be lost in such a fog and the ice 
 a running and night coming on," observed Mittie 
 with a shudder. 
 
 An early twilight was perceptibly deepening the 
 gloom which had hung all day long over land and 
 water; and the prospects of a night of blackness, such as 
 
 ■»,•; 
 
 !•;. 
 
 >s«fi 
 
304 
 
 WHAT THE DRIFT BROUGHT ASHORE. 
 
 Mi; 
 
 U 
 
 no ^leam of beacon light could penetrate, served to in- 
 crease the anxiety felt by Mike McKay and his dargh- 
 ter and was shared by most of the dwellers on that 
 lonely isle. It was now definitely known that the car- 
 rier and party were astray on the lake and what might 
 be their fate none could determine. 
 
 At regular intervals the bell pealed forth its signals, 
 but the sound fell with a dirge-like cadence. 
 
 Vaguely seen through the fog-veil and darkness, 
 trees, rocks and other objects near the isolated old 
 dwelling appeared strangly wierd to Mittie. The 
 naked ribs of the wrecked schooner suggested the 
 skeleton of some huge animal, and the dead-white 
 floes piling the beach reminded her of marble slabs 
 and shafts swept together from some abandoned 
 graveyard. A nameless dread possessed her and a 
 foreboding which she could not control. 
 
 In hours of melancholy such as these Santa's genial 
 presence had often cheered the motherless girl and 
 dispersed the gloom of her surroundings, but all that 
 was now in the past. Her lover and friend had left 
 hvx and she knew not where he then was. Some 
 said that he had gone to Michigan, there to remain for 
 a year or more. Had he been on the opposite side of 
 the globe he could not have seemed more distant . 
 
 Darkness came on apace and shut out the fog 
 phantoms. The wind had continued to freshen until it 
 blew a gale, and the gale increased until it blew a hur- 
 ricane. This caused the fog to lift and lights became 
 visible, though inky blackness covered all the sky. 
 
 In more than one cottage on Willow Point lamp- 
 light gleamed from windows looking lakeward, placed 
 
 ■ I 
 
WHAT THE DRIFT BROUCHT ASHORE. 
 
 :]0- 
 
 ■VI 
 
 there by anxious watchers with the hope that the rays 
 shed abroad nii^^ht <jjuide hindward the carrier's craft, 
 if happily it wt-re still alloat and able to outride the 
 storm and crushinjr ice. 
 
 Within the McKay abode well seasoned driftwood 
 crackled briskly, the kitchen stove grew ruddy with 
 heat and the room was cozy and comfortable. 
 
 Seated at a table Mittie knit lace, but showed little 
 inteieft in her work. 
 
 Mike McKay divided his attention between seme 
 torn gill net twine — which he was stitching up with a 
 wooden needle — and the weather. The old man felt 
 anxious concerning the missing boat and opened the 
 door many times to scan the sky and the tumultuous 
 sea rushing on the beach. The wind's howl over chim- 
 ney and tree tops and the crash and g». ind of ice on the 
 shore were terrific, and he shook his head as he calcu- 
 lated the slim chances of any boat or crew on such a 
 night. 
 
 Nine o'clock was late bed time for Mike McKay; 
 anxiety '^ad kept him up, however, until after that time; 
 but reali -^^g the futility of further watching, he pre- 
 pared to retire, lirst repairing to ihe beach to again 
 look at the lake. 
 
 Ice in pulverized masses and in tloes big as the side 
 of a house — tossed up by the waves — formed a wide, 
 white ridge covering all the beach and still piling 
 higher. The wind blew with a violence which the old 
 man cared not to withstand. It cut his face and chilled 
 him through. 
 
 He had turned toward the house, when above the 
 crash and roar he thought he heard a shout. Very 
 
 
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 Sciences 
 
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 23 WIST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 
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 irHA T THE DRIFT DROUGHT ASHORE. 
 
 faint indet'd; perhaps he was mistaken for the voices of 
 contending elements pitched in myriad keys strangely 
 commingled and were liable to deceive. 
 
 Mike was about to enter his dwelling when he 
 again heard an outcry. This time he made no mistake. 
 It was close at hand and came from the lake. Rush- 
 ing into the house he hastil} lighted a lantern and hur- 
 ried to the beach whither he was quickly followed by 
 his daughter. 
 
 Over bristling ridges and through pommaced heaps 
 of ice they clambered until near the line where break- 
 ers gleamed white in the lantern's glare. At a short 
 distance from shore a large mass of ice had grounded 
 upon sunken rocks, and through the gloom was dis- 
 cerned the outlines of a boat fast upon the obstruction 
 and a yeast of waves breaking over it. 
 
 "Hulloa there! Give us a line — for God's sake be 
 quick ! " 
 
 "Aye, aye," answered Mike. 
 
 He turned to Mittie. 
 
 "Run and get that coil of rope which hangs above 
 the locker. Fly! Your limbs are more supple than 
 
 mine. 
 
 ?» 
 
 Mittie started on her errand, instantly returning 
 with a long, strong rope to one end of which was at- 
 tached a piece of lead. 
 
 Having given the signal, Mike with well directed 
 r,im Hung the lead and line into the boat. He was then 
 directed to make fast the shore end, which he did by 
 carrying it over the ice ridge and tying it to a tree. By 
 this means the boat was freed from her precarious sit- 
 uation and gotten ashore, but would have been crushed 
 
 1^ 
 
WHA T THE DRIFT BROUGHT ASHORE. 307 
 
 in the operation had it not been especially built for con- 
 tact v/ith ice. It was armored with steel and proved 
 to be the island mail boat. After a hazardous exper- 
 ience the carrier and his assistants had sjained the 
 shore, but were so numbed with the cold wind and 
 dashing spray that they could hardly walk. 
 
 "Come right up to my house !" exclaimed McKay 
 hospitably. 
 
 "No, no, not yet," returned the carrier, "We've 
 lost a man overboard— a passenger — we must look for 
 him." 
 
 "He was standing at the stern, helping us with a 
 pike pole to shove the boat off yonder rocks, when a 
 big wave heavy with ice drift carried him into the 
 lake." 
 
 "I'm afraid its all day with him. He was nearly 
 dead from cold and fatigue before he went over and 
 would hardly be able to make much of a tight." 
 
 "Who was the man.^" queried Mike. 
 
 "It was Santa Smith." 
 
 The words rang confusedly through Mittie's brain. 
 She was dazed but uttered no sound, and only for an 
 instant paused with hands uplifted. 
 
 "Let us look for him, let us find him !" she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 The wind was driving everything shoreward, and 
 dead or alive the man might be brought in on the 
 breakers. A dark object floating in the water soon 
 attracted attention. The object was gotten ashore. It 
 proved to be the inanimate form of Santa Smith. 
 
 The lantern flashed into the white, upturned face 
 as they gathered about to examine the body. 
 
 i 
 
 !'R 
 
 ' m 
 
308 
 
 WHAT THE DRIFT BROUGHT ASHORE. 
 
 
 hil 
 
 "He is dead," said one of the men regretfully. 
 
 "There may be lite in him yet, bring him into the 
 houvse," suggested McKay. 
 
 Santa was stretched upon a lounge, vigorous 
 stimulants were applied to the skin and administered 
 internally, but as no responsive sign was visible they 
 sadly shook their heads. 
 
 Just as the last hope had been abandoned, how- 
 ever, a faint movement of the heart was detected. 
 Efforts were renewed, and the men were speedily 
 cheered by indications still more hopeful. 
 
 Mittie was tremulous with emotion as she flew 
 about procuring towels, blankets and other articles 
 called for by the workers. 
 
 After a time Santa opened his eyes. At that mo- 
 ment Mittie was hovering near; the first face that he 
 recognized was hers, and the llrst word that passed his 
 lips was her name. 
 
 She came near and in a moment their hands were 
 clasped and she was weeping for joy. 
 
 The carrier and his men had now performed their 
 part, and after partaking of some needed refresh- 
 ments, they loaded upon a wagon procured for the 
 purpose the U. S. mail bags and other matter in their 
 possession, and hastened on, leaving Mike McKay and 
 his daughter to nurse the resuscitated Santa into full 
 activity. Said the young man when he and the girl 
 were alone: 
 
 "I was on my way home with the mail when we 
 got astray in the fog. I came back because I couldn't 
 stay any longer and wanted to make up with you — 
 will you forgive me?" 
 
fullv. 
 
 ml 
 
 tn into the 
 
 vigorous 
 ninistered 
 sible they 
 
 ed, how- 
 detected, 
 speedily 
 
 she flew 
 r articles 
 
 that mo- 
 e that he 
 )assed his 
 
 WHA T THE DRIFT BROUGHT ASHORE. 
 
 309 
 
 "But how about Stella Pierce?" 
 
 "O, I just went with her because I was mad at 
 you and wanted to show my independence. Stella 
 knew it and accepted my company because she 
 thought it fun to make you jealous." 
 
 "The hussy!" exclaimed Mittie. 
 
 "Will you forgive me?" 
 
 For answer Mittie kissed his brow, and the old 
 sweet confidence was restored. 
 
 i 
 
 nds were 
 
 led their 
 
 refresh- 
 
 1 for the 
 
 r in their 
 
 Kay and 
 
 into full 
 
 the girl 
 
 vhen we 
 couldn't 
 h you — 
 
 i 
 
AN ISLAND ** FAMILY ROBINSON/* 
 
 : 1 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Isolation 
 
 A mere speck on the bosom of Lake Erie 
 lay the little island where opens the scene of our story. 
 It contained but a few acres and the rough limestone 
 which girt its irregular shores was carveninto grotesque 
 shapes by the action of waves. Huge rocks split 
 off from shore lifted their heads capped by gnarled 
 cedars, the roots of which had taken so firm a hold that 
 the fierce storms of wind and dashing surf had seemed 
 to render them only more tenacious. Straggling trees 
 and low scrubby bushes feathered the shores and in 
 many places overhung them, ' 
 
 From the far mainland shores west and north, blue 
 lying in the hazy distance, to eastward, far as the eye 
 ^ could reach, stretched the great ice plains, undulating 
 and rough with their white and grey drift piled in con- 
 fused masses. The scene presented was at once grand, 
 yet bleak and desolate. 
 
 In the center of the island was a single dwelling 
 sheltered from raking winds by a thicket of trees. 
 Within a cove, approached by a rocky path, stood a 
 roughly built shanty used for storing nets, buoys, ropes 
 and other articles belonging to fishermen's tackle, and 
 drawn up on the beach lay a boat. These two 
 buildings were all that the island contained. Its in- 
 
AN /SLAXD ^'FAMILV ROBLXSOXr 
 
 yJl 
 
 DN/' 
 
 ke Erie 
 ur story, 
 limestone 
 grotesque 
 :ks split 
 ' gnarled 
 hold that 
 i seemed 
 ing trees 
 s and in 
 
 rth, blue 
 s the eye 
 dulating 
 i in con- 
 e grand, 
 
 dwelling 
 3f trees, 
 stood a 
 ■ s, ropes 
 kle, and 
 se two 
 Its in- 
 
 habitants were a fitjhcrman, William Gerald, and 
 family consisting of a wife, a grown daughter and a 
 little child. A man who had been employed to assist 
 in fishing operations dur'ng the preceding autumn lived 
 with them. 
 
 None of the adjacent islands were at that time inhab- 
 ited and very often in stormy weather and when the ice 
 was unsafe these people were entirely cut off from the 
 world and communication therewith. Though they had 
 suffered many disadvantages and even hardships and 
 had resolved never to spend another winter on the lonely 
 spot, yet undoubtedly they had been as happy and as 
 contented as mankind in general. 
 
 However, a shadow had crossed the cottage thres- 
 hold and darkened its hearthstone. Little Charley, the 
 pet of the household, was taken suddenly ill. The 
 anxious parents did all that lay in their power, 
 administering such medicines as they had, which 
 they thought might prove beneficial, but their efforts 
 were unavailing and the boy grew rapidly worse. 
 
 « "In the morning," said Gerald — for the child was 
 taken ill in the night — "In the morning I will start for 
 the mainland and try to procure a doctor." 
 
 "I fear that it will be hard to find a doctor willing 
 to risk traveling so far upon the ice," replied the wife. 
 
 "I do not think the risk great, as the ice appears 
 quite solid," answered the husband. 
 
 When, however, the first beams of the winter sun 
 illuminated the eastern verge of the great ice plains and 
 shone through the cedars into the window, they fel^ 
 upon the rigid face of a dead child. Little Charley had 
 breathed his last. 
 
 
 Nil 
 
312 
 
 AiV ISLAND ''FAAflLV fWB/NSON: 
 
 B ; ' i 1 
 
 i!P \ 
 
 The parents were stricken with grief. Isolated as 
 they were, death had found and had borne away almost 
 without warninix their treasure. 
 
 Long and dreary was the day following that night 
 of anxious watching by the bedside of sickness and of 
 death. The sun veiled itself in clouds and the skies 
 bent in cold solemnity. Dressed in a robe of spotless 
 white the dead child lay in his crib. The room was 
 partially darkened and through the house, which had 
 echoed his ringing laugh and childish prattle, reigned 
 a silence unbroken save bv soft footfalls and low voices, 
 mingled with a sound of weeping. 
 
 To the hearts of the mourning parents now came the 
 question : 
 
 "Where shall we find a grave for our boy?" 
 
 "Shall we bury him in this desert little isle which 
 holds no other grave and leave it alone and neg- 
 lected with only the rdin and dew to weep over it, 
 and the voice of wind and wave alone hushing it to the 
 sleep that waketh not?" 
 
 "No," the thought was unbearable. Then they re-* 
 membered a burial site with white headstones, envir- 
 oned amidst shrubbery, flowers and drooping willows 
 across on the Canadian main where rested friends and 
 relatives. In this spot they resolved to inter the re- 
 mains of little Charley. 
 
 "If we carry him to A ," observed Mr. Gerald, 
 
 it will be necessary to set out as soon as possible. The 
 trip over and back will take two days. The ice seems 
 solid, but it is uncertain how long it will remain so." 
 
 "Reuben will be ready and willing to accompany 
 me and I think it best to start early tomorrow morning." 
 
ted as 
 almost 
 
 t night 
 and of 
 e skies 
 potless 
 m was 
 :h had 
 eigned 
 voices, 
 
 ime the 
 
 which 
 d neg- 
 v^er it, 
 
 to the 
 
 ley re-' 
 
 envir- 
 
 iliows 
 
 ds and 
 
 le re- 
 
 ferald, 
 The 
 seems 
 
 50." 
 
 iipany 
 
 n 
 
 ling 
 
 » 
 
 AN ISLAND ''FAMILY ROB FNSONr 
 
 313 
 
 "I hardly dare think of your going. Whrt if any- 
 thing should happen you?" said Mrs. Gerald. Then 
 she thought of the void soon to he made by the removal 
 of little Charley. 
 
 "Oh ! how desolate would be the darkened home." 
 
 Mingled with her grief were misgivings con- 
 cerning the safety of her husband, such as she 
 had never before felt, for she was a courageous 
 woman and seldom gave way to feelings of timidity. 
 Long hours must elapse before she should again see her 
 husband. He would be exposed to danger in crossing 
 the bleak ice desert, yet this danger would not be 
 greater than others to which he had often been exposed 
 on previous occasions. Calling to the test all her forti- 
 tude, she refused to listen to the promptings of fears 
 which she endeavored to persuade herself were ground- 
 less, and quietly acquiesced in her husband's plans. 
 
 A strange funeral procession was that which early 
 the next morninjj moved from the door of the fisher- 
 man's home down to the cove where lay the boat. In 
 his arms Gerald carried the dead child, wrapped in a 
 blanket. He was followed by his wife and daughter 
 and his hired man, Reuben Starr. 
 
 The boat had been provided with runners and ropes 
 fastened to the bow, so that it could be drawn like a 
 hand sled. Reuben Starr carried a small box which he 
 placed in the boat's stern, and within it was laid the 
 body. The Httle group gathered around it and re- 
 mained standing for a few minutes, while the mother 
 and sister took a last look at the dead boy. Tears 
 flowed freely and the silence of the parting was broken 
 only by sobs. Tiie sky was covered with sombre 
 
 %} 
 
 i 
 
' 
 
 i^i 
 
 fl 
 
 •i ^ 
 
 ii 
 
 \' n 
 
 
 314 
 
 /1X ISLAND ''FAMILY RQIilA'SONr 
 
 clouds; a settled gloom rested upon the underlying 
 shores and pervaded the hearts of the stricken family. 
 The little face was then covered away from sight. 
 
 With a few parting words to those left behind Ger- 
 ald took his place beside Reuben Starr, who held the 
 ropes, and together they set forward drawing between 
 them the boat and its burden. Once again an indefin- 
 able dread of some ill befalling the two adventurers took 
 possession of Mrs. Gerald and divided the grief she felt 
 at the death of her child. She said nothing to her 
 daughter in regard to these feelings and sought to drive 
 them from her mind. 
 
 Over the lake toiled the two men. There were 
 smooth, slippery places where the ice looked blue and 
 firm. Then they c ime to narrow seams where 
 water appeared. In one place a long rift of open water 
 about fifty feet wide obstructed the way. Here they 
 were obliged to launch the boat and pull across to the 
 opposite side. In some places great cakes of ice lay 
 heaped in confused masses. At other points they were 
 gorged together in shattered, splintered confusion. 
 
 Meantime the clouds grew darker and the air 
 warmer. Gerald, with a slight feeling of uneasiness., 
 glanced at the lowering sky, while Reuben wet his 
 finger and held it up in the wind to note its direction. 
 
 "1 wish that we had brought a pocket compass," 
 observed the latter. 
 
 Gerald made no reply and the men pushed forward 
 as rapidly as the peculiar roughness of the way and the 
 dragging weight of the boat would permit, toward the 
 faint, blue line which marked the Canadian shores. 
 However, the men were apprehensive of a danger 
 
? 
 
 AN r^LAND ''FAMILY ROBINSON:' 
 
 315 
 
 :lerlying 
 family. 
 It. 
 
 ind Ger- 
 leld the 
 between 
 indefin- 
 ers took 
 [ she felt 
 I to her 
 to drive 
 
 ire were 
 blue and 
 J where 
 en water 
 t?re they 
 ss to the 
 : ice lay 
 ley were 
 ion. 
 
 the air 
 asiness, 
 wet his 
 irection. 
 
 mpass 
 
 5> 
 
 orward 
 
 and the 
 
 t^ard the 
 
 shores. 
 
 danger 
 
 which those of less experience might not have foreseen. 
 The wind was not blowing hard, but it had changed 
 from the northeast to due west and the dense, black 
 clouds along the western horizon had turned to a whitish 
 grey. There were indications of a storm. Nearly 
 three hours had they been on their way and the shores 
 of the island were growing dim m the distance. Once 
 they stopped and deliberated as to whether they had 
 not better abandon the undertaking. Gerald seemed 
 inclined to turn back, but Reuben Starr, who was an 
 old sailor and had roughed it for many a year, insisted 
 upon going forward. He had become hardened by ex- 
 posure, was reckless of danger and his reputation for 
 bravery was now at stake. After a moment's hesitation 
 Gerald yielded to the old sailor's wishes and again they 
 pressed forward with an energy that brought the per- 
 spiration to their faces. 
 
 Suddenly the wind arose. The heavy, grey clouds 
 swept up from the horizon in a solid body, preceded by 
 clouds as black as night, broken and flying m wild con- 
 fusion. 
 
 "Look yonder!" exclaimed Gerald, pointing west- 
 ward. 
 
 A dense, filmy line of snow was sweeping toward 
 them over the lake. The men came to a sudden stop. 
 Gerald's face was pale and anxious, and that of his 
 companion showed deeper concern than he cared to 
 express in words. In a few moments the storm burst 
 upon them. The air was filled with whirling snow 
 flakes driven before the fierce blast. It enveloped them 
 as with a shroud. The island which they had left be- 
 hind and the shore line toward which they had traveled 
 
 li 
 
 *I3 
 
I 
 
 31G 
 
 AN ISLAND ''FAMILY KOHINSON:' 
 
 HI 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 I \ 
 
 i 
 
 '; 
 
 11 
 
 I 
 
 were entirely blotted from view. Not a point or land- 
 mark remained wliereby they could determine their 
 course. 
 
 "If we only had brought a compass,'* repeated Reu- 
 ben, but they had not and now what was to be done? If 
 they journeyed on without a guide they would in all pro- 
 bability lose the direction of the shore and perhaps wan- 
 der from the confines of the island?- out toward the 
 open sea. They dt ;ided to remain where they were. 
 The storm might soon abate and they could then pro- 
 ceed. But there were no indications of the storm 
 abating. Not a break appeared in the solid mass of 
 clcuds that covered the sky. The wind blew a steady 
 gale. Their situation was becoming perilous, for if the 
 wind continued at its present violence the ice was liable 
 to part and break up jit any time. A knowledge of 
 this fact was the principal cause of anxiety on the part 
 of the two men. 
 
 Buttoning closely about them their overcoats they 
 seated themselves on the edge of the boat. Having 
 eaten nothing since early moining, Gerald opened a 
 basket he had brought with him containing provisions, 
 set it between them, and the two partook of its con- 
 tents in silence. With the snow whirling around them 
 they finished their repast, after which the time was oc- 
 cupied in watching the sky and in pacing backward 
 and forward near the boat's side. The hoars dragged 
 wearily, and impatient of their length, Reuben asked 
 for the time. Gerald took out his watch. It was just 
 half past two. Dropping it into his pocket, he once 
 more glanced at the sky. It looked sullen and the wind 
 was increasing. 
 
L or land- 
 line their 
 
 ted Reu- 
 done? If 
 in all pro- 
 aps wan- 
 ward the 
 ley were, 
 hen pro- 
 le storm 
 mass of 
 a steady 
 , for if the 
 MAS liable 
 /ledge of 
 I the part 
 
 )ats they 
 Having 
 
 opened a 
 
 ©visions, 
 its con- 
 
 md them 
 was oc- 
 
 ackward 
 dragged 
 
 in asked 
 was just 
 he once 
 
 the wind 
 
 /1.V :sLANn ''FA.\f/L V Ron/xsoxr 317 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 In the Clutch of the Tempest. 
 
 The winter days wire short, and by live o'clock it 
 would be dark. Had the storm then cleared the re- 
 mainder of the afternoon would not have been more 
 than sulllcent for them to have reached their destin- 
 ation. WHiat if it continued snowing, and they should 
 be compelled to remain all night in their present ex- 
 posed situation. With such a wind it seemed no ques- 
 tion with Gerald but that the ice must break up be- 
 fore morning. 
 
 "Should the snow cease falling might they not be 
 able even in the dark to find their way by the aid of 
 some friendly light," was the thought of Gerald. Then 
 he remembered how wild was that portion of the Can- 
 adian shore, and how few inhabitants it contained. He 
 could not remember having ever seen a light upon them. 
 Gerald glanced at the snow covered heap in the stern 
 of the boat, thought of his dead child, and wondered 
 if they might not find a grave together in the cruel 
 waters that lay beneath. 
 
 Still the snow descended, the wind increased and 
 hope grew faint in the hearts of the solitary watchers. 
 
 The suspense became unendurable. 
 
 "It seems useless to wait," said Gerald. There 
 may be a chance of making land at some point, and if 
 we do not, we can certainly make our situation no 
 worse than it is. 
 
 Reuben expressed the same opinion, and they con- 
 tinued on in the direction towards which the boat still 
 headed, but as to whether they kept their course or 
 
 % 
 
 'If j'l 
 
;S 
 
 ,( ! 
 
 li Mi 
 
 .:!P 
 
 !;' 
 
 I ; 
 
 Sj 
 
 318 
 
 AN ISLAND ''FAMILY ROBINSONr 
 
 gradually deviated and wandered from it they never 
 knew. 
 
 Wearily onward they trudged through the snow 
 which was getting quite deep, but thought not of rest, 
 nor lingered for a moment. The increasing gloom 
 warned them that night was coming on. Thick and 
 fast fell the shades. They stumbled blindly over 
 rough surfaces, with the relentless flakes flying about 
 them like vultures. Who could tell, perhaps each 
 moment bore them farther away from the shore which 
 they were striving to reach, out toward the open where 
 storm and darkness centered. 
 
 Suddenly, an ominous grinding roar was heard. 
 The men glanced quickly at each other and stopped to 
 listen. Again the sound was repeated. 
 
 "It is coming," said Gerald. 
 
 •'We may as well prepare for the worst." 
 
 Night impenetrable with snow, and darkness shut 
 in this desolate scene. The demons of the storm were 
 abroad and unrestrained were their orgies. The 
 travelers had come to a dead halt, when they felt the 
 ice lift beneath their feet. There were grating, 
 crushing noises upon every side. The worst had come. 
 The ice had parted and they were adrift. 
 
 Reuben seized a hammer, loosened the temporary 
 runners from the boat, and got it in readiness for use 
 at a moment's notice. The din of crashing ice grew 
 louder. They could not determine the size of the floe 
 upon which they stood, but it was moving rapidly; ris- 
 ing, falling, quivering beneath them, like the deck of a 
 storm tosbed vessel. They drifted for an hour or more 
 when the floe upon which they were, broke, but a com- 
 
AN ISLAND ''FAMILY Robinson:' 
 
 319 
 
 2y never 
 
 he snow 
 : of rest, 
 jf gloom 
 lick and 
 lly over 
 g about 
 ps each 
 e which 
 n where 
 
 5 heard. 
 3pped to 
 
 ;ss shut 
 rm were 
 The 
 
 felt the 
 grating, 
 
 d come. 
 
 nporary 
 for use 
 e grew 
 the floe 
 dly ; ris- 
 tjck of a 
 or more 
 t a com- 
 
 paratively small piece holding intact. They took their 
 places at the oars, and prepared for a contest with the 
 crushing ice and thundering waves. Showers of spray 
 tilled the air. They were lifted upon the crest of a gi- 
 gantic billow, then plunged again into the trough of the 
 sea. The remainder of the floe was shivered to pieces 
 and the boat nearly capsized. When it righted again 
 they were tossing in the midst of the waves. 
 
 It would be f.ifficult to describe the fierce struggle 
 that ensued, or to recount the horrors of the long night 
 that followed, durmg which the frail boat was driven 
 by the tempest and threatened momentarily with de- 
 struction by the drifting ice. As by a miracle, how- 
 ever, they weathered the storm until the dawn of 
 morning. About mid-night the snow had ceased 
 falling, and stars came out into the sk}-, but the wind 
 continued blowing as furiously as ever. They had 
 been drifting with the ice down the lake all night; and 
 now clearly outlined made out the rough, dark shores 
 of a projecting headland some two miles distant. 
 
 The oil suits of the two men were covered thick 
 with frozen spray. The water had penetrated their 
 undergarments, they were numbed with cold, and al- 
 most exhausted. With their fast failing strength was 
 it possible to pull through the gleaming white breakers 
 and icv drift and reach shore? The wind was in their 
 favor, though the sea was tremendous. Sighting 
 a low sandy beach indenting a line of broken rocks, 
 they exerted all their remaining strength, and pulled 
 towards it. About half the distance was accomplish- 
 ed, when they were struck by a huge wave, ice loaded. 
 There was a crash, and the shattered boat capsized. 
 
 '•i\ 
 
820 
 
 AN ISLAND ''FA MFLY ROBINSON: 
 
 ' ;l 
 
 I-'! ' 
 
 A cry rose from the water. The men were struggling 
 m the merciless waves. 
 
 Gerald seized the railing of the boat and looked 
 for his companion, but saw only the shrouded form of 
 his dead child float away and disappear beneath the 
 waves. The stark, white face was tjrnid towards 
 him, and in that instant Gerald realized that the living 
 and the dead had alike found graves beneath the 
 relentless waves. A chill of horror froze the blood in 
 his veins and his heart stood still. He clutched the 
 boat with both hands, and his stiffening lingers held on 
 with the terrible grip of the drowning. Blindness 
 came over him. A confused din was in his ears which 
 growing fainter died away. Gerald was unconscious. 
 
 ^^ '^ 'i^ ^^ ^^ ^^ 
 
 On the etremity of L Point stood a hut where 
 
 lived an aged hermit. The morning after the storm the 
 old man had risen early and repaired to the shore for 
 a pail of water. The rocks were high and the waves 
 beat up against their base. With a rope he let down 
 the pail and drew it up tilled with water. He set it 
 down for a moment to watch the driving surf, when 
 his attention was attracted by a broken boat washed 
 upon a narrow beach at the foot of the cliffs. A strange, 
 dark object was fastened to it. Clambering down the 
 icy rocks, he approached the boat. 
 
 Clinging to it with both hands was the apparently 
 
 lifeless body of a man. On examination, thi old man 
 
 thought that he detected a faint flutter about the heart 
 
 indicating that life was not altogether extinct. There 
 
 was an ugly cut on the side of the head, and blood had 
 
 frozen in the hair. 
 
 He unfastened the closely locked fingers from the 
 
n 
 
 uggling 
 
 I looked 
 form of 
 ath the 
 towards 
 e living 
 aih the 
 blood in 
 hfd the 
 held on 
 lindness 
 s which 
 iscious. 
 
 t where 
 orm the 
 lore for 
 ; waves 
 t down 
 ti set it 
 , when 
 vashed 
 t range, 
 wn the 
 
 irently 
 d man 
 i heart 
 There 
 od had 
 
 im the 
 
 AN ISLAND ''FAMILY ROBINSON:' 
 
 321 
 
 boat, and half carried, half dragged the man up the 
 rocks, stopping at intervals to rest for the ascent was 
 laborious. 
 
 A hot fire blazed on the cabin hearth, and the old 
 man laid his burden on a couch close beside it. For 
 some time he worked over his charge, using every re- 
 storative at command, and by degrees the patient re- 
 vived and began breathing regularly. He opened feebly 
 his eyes and spoke a few words, but they were discon- 
 nected and denoted mental derangement. For twelve 
 weeks William Gerald —for he it was — lay in a critical 
 condition, suffering from injuries that threatened both 
 life and reason. He raved day and night, and talked in- 
 cessa ♦ly and incoherently. 
 
 At last there came a lime when the fevered state of 
 his mini, grew more calm, and a deep, long sleep sue" 
 ceei ed. When he awoke, reason was restored and 
 with it the remembrance of events which had occurred* 
 and through which he had btien brought to his present 
 condition. His first inquiry was for Reuben Starr, but 
 they could tell him nothing concerning his companion's 
 fated. 
 
 On the following day a child's remains, with the 
 tattered fragments of a white shroud clinging to them 
 were washed ashore. They were brought to the cabin^ 
 and although much disfigured were recognized by 
 Gerald as those of little Charley, and subsequently 
 buried in a little graveyard on the point. 
 
 Despite his restlessness, the invalid grew stronger 
 each day, for he was deeply concerned about his wife 
 and daughter alone and in exile all those dreary weeks 
 and months. 
 
 ;;i! 
 
 »■ 
 
 r? \!k 
 
n 
 
 '; 
 
 ij 
 
 i 
 
 I > 
 
 1: 
 
 •i:= 
 
 i'- 
 
 |(i 
 
 , 
 
 r 
 
 !il 
 
 322 
 
 AJV ISLAND ''FAMILY ROBINSONr 
 
 Yielding to tl e continued petitions of his patient, 
 the attending physcian gave liim permission at last to 
 return to his island home, after cautioning him to be 
 very careful. 
 
 Before starting, Gerald visited the new made grave 
 and planted flowers upon it and a tree at its head, for 
 spring had come. 
 
 r^ ^^ ^W ^W ^^ 'I* 
 
 The anxiety and suspense endured by the tv^o 
 women in their lonely situation during those long, winter 
 months, can well be imagined. 
 
 The terrible snow-storm, with the breaking up of 
 the ice coming when ii did, had aroused serious appre- 
 hension for the safety of the absent ones. 
 
 As days went by and weeks succeeded, the fears 
 that haunted the two women increased. That the 
 men were lost in the ice grew into an awful certainty. 
 Had they been living they could and would have re- 
 turned. All hope of ever seeing her husband died 
 from the heart of Mrs. Gerald, and now as their 
 winter's stock of provisions was nearly exhausted, how 
 were they to obtain help? Not a sail as yet had come* 
 near. 
 
 One bright May morning at last, on glancing from 
 the window, Mrs. Gerald sighted a small schooner 
 standing directly for the island. She was overjoyed, 
 but after a moment's reflection concluded that the ves_ 
 sel must be on a long tack and would soon shift her 
 course. Fastening a white cloth to a pole the woman 
 rail to the shore, determined, if possible, to signal those 
 on board. The schooner was still several miles distant, 
 but the wind was fair and blowing fresh and sharp and 
 
AN ISLAND ''FAMILY ROBINSONr 
 
 323 
 
 I 
 liil 
 
 patient, 
 t last to 
 n to be 
 
 i grave 
 iad, for 
 
 le two 
 , winter 
 
 g up of 
 appre- 
 
 le fears 
 hat the 
 jrtainty. 
 ave re- 
 id died 
 s their 
 d,how 
 \ come' 
 
 g from 
 :hooner 
 :rjoyed, 
 he ves_ 
 lift her 
 woman 
 il those 
 distant, 
 arp and 
 
 she bore down without deviating a single point. In a 
 short time she lay just off the island. The white cloth 
 fluttered from shore. The vessel hove to, let go 
 her anchor and lowering a boat, a number of men 
 cHmbed into it and pulled for the island. 
 
 Did her eyes deceive her? Who was the man in 
 the bow of the yawl bearing so strong a resemblance 
 to her dead husband? With her daughter she hurried 
 to the spot where the boat was about to land. As it 
 touched, the man in the bow sprang ashore. 
 
 "William!" Mrs. Gerald rushed toward her hus- 
 band — for it was he — and fell fainting into his arms. 
 
 Gerald had taken passage on a vessel bound for the 
 upper lakes. Having previously stated his story to the 
 kind hearted captain, the latter, touched with sym- 
 pathy, agreed to land him upon this island, although it 
 lay wide of the vessel's course. However, the joy of 
 the meeting between those so long separated by cir- 
 cumstances, so fraught with danger and uncertainty, 
 more than compensated the good captain for his trouble- 
 As soon as he could make the necessary arrange- 
 ments, William Gerald removed his family and effects to 
 Canada. Trusting no longer to the uncertain chances 
 of wind and wave, he became a well-to-do farmer. 
 The family liv'ed happy and contented among relatives 
 and friends, but the recollection of experiences here 
 narrated sometimes came back in hideous night-mare 
 forms to haunt their sleeping visions. 
 
 Since then many a long year has passed. Times 
 have changed and life seems everywhere; yet, lying on 
 the bosom of this inland sea, the little island remains 
 the same isolated speck, lonely and desolate as of yore. 
 
 
 if 
 
iil ' 
 
 ill 
 
 1 i 
 
 11 
 
 \m \ 
 
 I 
 
 ii? 
 
 CASTAWAY. 
 
 A Story of Rattlesnake Island* 
 
 It is remarkable what large sized romances small 
 bits of territory are capable of producing under fav^orable 
 conditions. Though containing but ten or twelve acres, 
 Rattle><nake island forms the scene of quite an interest- 
 ing episode along this line. 
 
 The island lies about two miles to the northeast of 
 Put-in-Bay. Its surface, partially covered with forest 
 fringe and red cedar, is broken by outcropping beds of 
 limestone. In shape it is elongated with a hump in 
 the middle, and two islets — mere dots — at the tail end, 
 known as the "rattles." Viewed from a distance, a 
 lively imagination may readily resolve this dark couch- 
 ant body of land outlined againsi the turquoise blue of. 
 Erie into a gigantic rattlesnake, with head erect and 
 rattles in working order. From its peculiar form- 
 ation the island is generally supposed to hav^e derived 
 its name, though some assert that the appellation was 
 bestowed in consequence of the illimitable quantities of 
 rattlesnakes which rendezvoused in and among the 
 creviced and broken rocks. From these fastnesses 
 they were wont to wriggle forth into aggressive promi- 
 nence, hissing and clicking their spite, and whipping 
 the earth and surrounding vegetation, until everything 
 looked blue. Many "vets" were numbered among 
 the reptilian hosts, regular old sockers with whole 
 
CASTA IV A V. 
 
 325 
 
 Strings of rattles. So thick were they it is avowed — 
 that a man couldn't walk without treading upon three 
 or four of the "varmints" at every step — this in the 
 halcyon days of yore. At a later date the enterprising 
 community of snakes here represented materially les- 
 sened in numbers, until comparatively few remain to 
 adorn the spot named in their honor. 
 
 An able accessory in the dispersion of this reptile 
 colony was undoubtedly vested in the brawn and 
 muscle of the proprietor, whom for convenience we will 
 call "Hank Smith," who with his family located on the 
 island. Old Hank wasn't afraid of rattlesnakes evi- 
 dently, and prided himself manifestly on owning and 
 occupying with his household gods a whole island, 
 which if not very big, was at least far enough re- 
 moved from adjacent isles to afford ample seclusion. 
 So at least he imagined, and so in reality it might 
 have proven but for the obstrusive fact that the old 
 codger possessed several comely daughters, and since 
 "love laughs at locksmiths," traverses distances im- 
 measurable and achieves impossibilities of all sorts, 
 this blind but ever active imp was not long in finding 
 his way to Rattlesnake island. 
 
 Celia, the eldest, was an attractive maiden with 
 eyes that matched the color of the sea and sky and 
 hair a fluff of golden brown. She was lithe and active, 
 free and fearless, revelling like a duck in adventures on 
 the water. She was an expert at fishing and fowling, 
 could manipulate a pair of oars with admirable skill, 
 and with a light skiff was accustomed to cross fre- 
 quently the two miles stretch that intervened between 
 Rattlesnake and Put-in-Bay. 
 
 '■'I 
 
326 
 
 CASTA WAV. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ji 
 
 At the latter place she speedily became the attrac- 
 tion of a youthful fisherman who crossed her path — 
 whom we will call Tom Taylor. After this there was 
 no more peace for Rattlesnake. From time to time it 
 was haunted by a spectral sail which circled about 
 the island, edging nearer and nearer at each cruise, 
 until one day it lay beached close by the "grout" 
 house of Hank Smith. At beck of the little winged 
 god Tom Taylor and his boat had followed the charmer 
 to her rocky retreat. This being his first experience in 
 courtship, however, Tom proved a bit fresh and his 
 bashfulness vvas excruciating. His feeble advances 
 were regarded with apparent disfavor, the coy maiden 
 turning a deaf ear to his importunities, until in blank 
 despair he shook the dust of Rattlesnake from his feet. 
 The spectral sail retreated over the water returning 
 no more that season to haunt the mirrored coves of 
 the little, lone isle. 
 
 Tom Taylor "darned" and "gol-darned" his luck 
 and the girl, and wished himself and her in — well, in 
 a clime too hot for health and comfort. 
 
 Having thus abandoned schemes matrimonial, he 
 returned to his work of inveigling into nets of tarred 
 twine the unsuspecting finny tribes, an occupation with 
 which he was more familiar than that of love making. 
 
 One early spring day, some months following the 
 collapse of Tom's love affair, a terrible squall, such as 
 sometimes swoops down unannounced upon the islands, 
 struck Put-in-Bay with a force that twisted limbs from 
 the trees and sent the tumbled seas spouting up the 
 rocks. 
 
 Looking from her window an old woman who oc- 
 
 jujitfuroi^g? 
 
CASTA WAV. 
 
 n27 
 
 ^" 
 
 cupied a cottage on East Point thought she espied a 
 small boat far out on the lake drivinij eastward before 
 the gale. From a shelf she snatched a pair of marine 
 glasses through which she took a second observation. 
 Yes, the boat was evidently drifting at the mercy of the 
 wind and current. Not an oar was in motion. Only 
 a single occupant could be discerned and that was a 
 female. With breiihless haste the old woman rushed 
 to a 'Htle cove where stood a fish shanty. Within an 
 angle of the L shaped dock several boats lay moored, 
 and tVvO fishermen attired in yellow oil skins and Sou*- 
 westers were coal tarring twine over a smoking kettle. 
 One of these individuals proved to be our friend Tom 
 Taylor. Tom took the marine glasses proffered by 
 the scared old woman, and through them examined 
 the drifting boat. 
 
 "Blast my buttons if it aint a woman!" he eJi- 
 claimed. With two or three long strides he reached 
 and began unfastening a boat. 
 
 "What you goin'to do ?" demanded his companion. 
 
 "Going to pick up that skiff; come on Jim." 
 
 Jim demurred, urging that no boat could live long 
 in such a sea, and that it was foolhardy to venture. 
 
 Tom, however, would take no denial, and with 
 serious misgivings Jim was finally persuaded to take a 
 hand at the oars. Under the double pull the boat 
 plunged into the boiling surf. It was a hard struggle 
 and many times the boat barely escaped swamping in 
 the heavy sea that struck her, but at last the castaway 
 was overtaken. As they approached the woman 
 stretched appealing hands toward them and Tom turned 
 in his seat to get a square look at her. 
 
 iii 
 
328 
 
 CASTA IV A y. 
 
 i::i 
 
 "Great Scott!" The beaded perspiration on his 
 brow now began streaming down his cheeks. It was 
 Celia, she who had so cruelly jilted him. But all dif- 
 ferences were forgotten when life and death hung poised 
 in the balance. The drifting boat was nearly tilled 
 with water and it seemed as if every sea would sub- 
 merge it, but the boat and Celia were both rescued 
 and landed upon the lee side of a projecting headland. 
 Celia was drenched through and through. Her hair 
 hung in strings, her clothing clung closely about her, 
 and altogether she looked as picturesque as a ducked 
 hen. 
 
 *' You may thank Tom here for your salvation," re- 
 marked Jim, turning to the fair but dilapidated Celia. 
 
 "I never see a woman yit that I thought more of 
 than I do of my own individual self, an' if Tom hadn't 
 sbamed me out, I expect he'd awent alone and you'd 
 both gone to Davy Jones." 
 
 Now that they had reached land, the rough old 
 fisherman had removed his boots and was draining off 
 the water that had collected in them. 
 
 The girl made no reply, but from under dripping 
 locks she beamed upon Tom a smile the most heart- 
 some and approving that he had ever received. 
 
 In answer to anxious questions Celia explained that 
 when midway between the two islands a rowlock 
 had become detached and fallen overboard, rendering 
 the oars useless, and being overtaken by the squall she 
 had drifted until discovered and rescued. 
 
 Celia found shelter with some friends at Put-in-Bay 
 until the next morning, when the gale having died, she 
 was restored to her anxious parents by Tom Taylor in 
 
CASTA U'A v. 
 
 320 
 
 on his 
 It was 
 all dif- 
 y poised 
 ly filled 
 lid sub- 
 rescued 
 L'adland. 
 ler hair 
 out her, 
 ducked 
 
 ion," re- 
 id Celia. 
 more of 
 n hadn't 
 id you'd 
 
 ugh old 
 ning off 
 
 dripping 
 t heart- 
 
 ned that 
 rowlock 
 indering 
 uall she 
 
 t-in-Bay 
 lied, she 
 'aylor in 
 
 person. She was not much worse for the wetting and 
 scare received and was appropriately subdued in man- 
 ner, treating Tom with uniform kindness and evidently 
 regarding him as a hero. 
 
 Old Hank received him with effusive demonstra- 
 tions and insisted upon his remaining for the day as an 
 honored guest, placing before him in the way of enter- 
 tainment the best that his larder afforded. 
 
 Celia behaved beautifully and it will hardly be 
 necessary to tell of all the little flirtations successfully 
 prosecuted by the young couple during that brief day. 
 
 In the evening as Tom was about taking his depar- 
 ture, his host clapped him on the shoulder and said : 
 
 "Young man, if it hadn't been for you my girl 
 would now be drifting down Lake Erie a corpse instead 
 of sitting here. You've saved her life and now I don't 
 know how I am to pay you for the trouble, unless 
 you're willin' to take her." 
 
 A wave of scarlet suddenly swept over Tom's face, 
 extending clear to the roots of his red hair, while the 
 girl looked the picture of confusion. 
 
 "Why, dad! " she exclaimed. 
 
 Tom succeeded after a mighty effort in gaining his 
 composure, and after clearing his throat said that if the 
 old man was "willin' " and the girl was "willin' " he 
 guessed he'd call it "square." The girl nodded; the 
 old man said "all right," and promised to throw in the 
 boat as a part of the bargain. So before the ice fields 
 blocked the island passages there was a wedding on 
 Rattlesnake and Tom bore away his bride in triumph. 
 
 One by one old Hank Smith was robbed of his 
 daughters and he eventually left the island himself, 
 
 )V. 
 
 ii-» 
 
 I 
 
 Hi 
 
 11 
 
 - A I 
 iK 1 
 
■' I 
 
 I 
 
 :)30 
 
 CASTAWAY, 
 
 and another "Family Robinson" who succeeded him 
 now occupies the place. 
 
 Tom Taylor multiplied and increased as years 
 swept on and now rejoices, with his "better half" in 
 an ample share of this world's emoluments. 
 
 i 
 
 In 
 
ed him 
 
 I years 
 ialf" in 
 
 ^^CRUSOE" ISLANDS OF ERIE. 
 
 As a field for the development of novel and enter- 
 taining adventures like those of "Robinson Crusoe," 
 and the "Swiss Family Robinson," or a fancy tickling 
 bit of romance like that of "Foul Play," a little, lone 
 island in the sea is quite the thing, and in material for 
 productions of this kind the Erie archipelago is 
 prolific. 
 
 Mere dots as they are on the broad bosom of an 
 inland sea, the reminiscent lore attaching to the 
 smaller islets dating from their early history is in- 
 teresting. 
 
 While too limited in extent to afford room for more 
 than a few occupants at a time, the fact that so many 
 individuals singly, or as families, should have sought 
 at various times the seclusion of bounds so narrow, is 
 a matter of surprise. Instances of the occupation of 
 each by single families have been numerous, while 
 correspondingly marked has been the tendency toward 
 Crusoe life. 
 
 As will be seen on reference to the map, the 
 islands in question are scattered promiscuously among 
 the larger members of the group, and may be enum- 
 erated as East, West and Middle Sisters, Green Island, 
 Rattlesnake, "Gull," "Sugar," "Mouse," "Lost Bal- 
 last," "Hen and Chickens," North Harbor, Middle 
 Island, "Buckeye," and "Starve" islands. 
 
 ti 
 
 f.- 
 
 ii: 
 
332 
 
 ''CRUSOE'' ISLANDS OF ERIE. 
 
 m . 
 
 ■ 
 
 P 
 
 ni 
 
 As a light-house station, Middle island, situated in 
 Canadian waters south of Point Au Pelee and contain- 
 ing but a few acres, has formed for many years the 
 abode of a whole series of government employes 
 whose main occupation it has been to kindle and keep 
 burning through nights of storm and darkness the 
 lights within its grey old tower, occupying in turn 
 with their families or alone the one modest dwelling 
 which the island contains. 
 
 Drawing from their personal experiences, the light- 
 keepers of Middle island have contributed in ample 
 measure to stories of adventure, and often of hardship 
 and privation incidental to a fife so isolated. 
 
 On one occasion a bass fishing party on an ex- 
 tended cruise approached the shores of Middle island. 
 The party had observed two women watching from 
 the shore and giving signs of distress. On landing 
 they found near the stone-towered light-house a dwell- 
 ing occupied by the keeper and his family. The 
 former was suffering tortures from a broken ankle — 
 the result of an accident three weeks previous. When 
 first broken, the limb had been bandaged and treated 
 by a mainland physician, but had since received no 
 medical attention, and from appearances the case was 
 likely to involve a sarri^ce either of life or limb. 
 
 The family were in reduced circumstances and, cut 
 off from communication with the outside world, no 
 help could be obtained. The party did what they 
 could toward temporarily relieving the unfortunate 
 man and in supplying the wants of his family, and as 
 soon as it could be procured, the necessary medical aid 
 was dispatched to the sufferer. 
 

 ''CRUSOE'' ISLANDS OF ERIE. 
 
 333 
 
 jated in 
 :ontain- 
 cjars the 
 nployes 
 nd keep 
 less the 
 in turn 
 Iwelling 
 
 he light- 
 1 ample 
 lardship 
 
 1 an ex- 
 
 e island. 
 
 ig from 
 landing 
 
 a dwell- 
 The 
 ankle — 
 When 
 treated 
 ived no 
 ase wat) 
 
 3. 
 
 and, cut 
 orld, no 
 at they 
 ortunate 
 and as 
 dical aid 
 
 On yet another occasion a solitary occupant of the 
 island during the winter season was taken seriously ill 
 and lay for several days uncared for, his only medi- 
 cines comprising a few simple herbs, his only com- 
 panion a dog. 
 
 \v like manner the keepers of (jreen island light 
 have had during the years intervening, since the build- 
 ing of the first light-house upon its shores, many haps 
 and mishaps which if woven into story would make 
 interesting reading. An occurrence most notable in 
 the history of Green Island was the burning in i86<|. of 
 the lighthouse abo\'e mentioned, an account of which 
 is elsewhere given in this volume. 
 
 A fine, new structure smce erected has been for 
 several years under the superintendence of Joseph 
 Gibeaut and family, who by means of a snug little 
 naphtha launch — The "Twilight" — make connection 
 between its shores and Put-in-Bay. The island has 
 had also its Crusoe dwellers. 
 
 For a number of years rocky little Rattlesnake 
 was inhabited by a family bearing the name of Ham- 
 mond, but now forms the summer residence of Capt. 
 Freyense, of Sandusky, who .\nnually repairs thither 
 with his family. A romantic interest attaches to the 
 place. 
 
 The "Sister" islands have rejoiced each in its 
 solitary occupation from time to time by one or more 
 individuals, and the past history of the trio is redolent 
 of reminiscent lore, the repetition of which sounds like 
 fiction. 
 
 According to tradition there lived on one of the 
 Sisters in early days a fisherman and his family, to- 
 
 
 1!' 
 
 4i 
 
 
Iff" 
 
 rr 
 
 T: 
 
 (ji i 
 
 1 i I 
 
 ] 
 
 !i 
 
 
 Jl [ 
 
 i 
 
 334 
 
 ''CRCrSOE'' ISLANDS OF ERIE. 
 
 gether with a man employed by the former. They 
 endeavored to accommodate themselves to the situa- 
 tion, and no serious difficulty had as yet overtaken 
 them until in the midst of a long, tedious winter a 
 child was taken suddenly and seriously ill, and died 
 b fore medical aid could be procured. 
 
 Unwilling to bury their little one uncoffined upon 
 the lonely isle were the parents, and accordingly the 
 two men set out across the ice, bearing with them the 
 dead child. On the way they were struck by a heavy 
 gale, the ice broke up, the adverturers were caught 
 an i lost in rhf »'mvin>i ; . <x^f\ .> i Jk i ,1k ilirei boiiies 
 
 V . , II v\ 11 , he lake. 
 
 I \ 
 
 Lett alune on the island mother and daughter 
 awaited anxiously the return of the absent ones, but 
 waited in vain. 
 
 Two or three months afterward with opening nav- 
 igation a Vessel chanced to be cruising near the island 
 and w^as signalled by the distressed women. They 
 were fornd to be in destitute circumstances, and the 
 story of their desolate sojourn under circumstances so 
 fraught with anxiety and grief, was one of harrowing 
 mterest. 
 
 For many years after the settlement of the princi- 
 pal islands, the "Hen and Chickens," lying north of 
 the Bass group, were uninhabited. The "Hen" was 
 finally settled by one Captain Blanchard, who came to 
 be known as "the hermit of the old Hen." Unlike the 
 proverbial recluse. Captain Blanchard was an able man 
 financially and his hermitage formed a quiet, but very 
 comfortable retreat, in which during the summer season 
 he received and entertained many friends from a dis- 
 
•. They 
 :he situa- 
 vertaken 
 winter a 
 ind died 
 
 led upon 
 ngiy the 
 them the 
 a heavy 
 f caujjht 
 ci bouies 
 
 dauijhter 
 )nes, but 
 
 ling nav- 
 le island 
 They 
 and the 
 ances so 
 arrowing 
 
 le princi- 
 north of 
 en" was 
 came to 
 nlike the 
 able man 
 but very 
 er season 
 im a dis- 
 
 ' CRUSOE'' ISLANDS OF ERlE. 
 
 885 
 
 tance. Tired at last of his solitar}^ life Captain Blan- 
 chard sold tl e "Hen" and her brood to a party of San- 
 dusky gentlemen. An elegant and commodious struc- 
 ture was erected near the site of the hermitage and 
 christened — "Quinnebog Club House," and semi an- 
 nually its members repair thither to tlsh for black bass 
 and run wild. 
 
 VIEW ON OLD HEN ISLAND— QUINNEBOG CLUB HOUSE. 
 
 ' Photo by Jno, Dietz, Sandiitky. 
 
 For a time the only inhabitant of "Ballast" was 
 "Uncle Jimmy," who occupied a humble cot and posed 
 as monarch of all he surveyed, until after the pui chase 
 of the island by Cleveland parties pnd subsequent 
 erection of a club house and cottages. 
 
 "Sugar," containing an area of about fourteen acres 
 lying between Middle and North Bass, possesses varied 
 
 
 ! i! 
 
 if 
 
 i i-i 
 
 m 
 
 fSJ 
 
Mrl 
 
 ;:: 
 
 336 
 
 ''CRUSOE'' ISLANDS OF ERIE. 
 
 attractions and is favored as the resort of camping 
 and fishing parties. 
 
 Concerning "Mouse" island a visiting journalist 
 thus writes : 
 
 *'It is a little gem of an island on the south shore of 
 Lake Erie just a stone's throw from Catawba Island. 
 May it be your good fortune to see it by moonlight* 
 with Green island light blinking sleepily over the port 
 quarter. Then see it with each leaf in the gentle 
 silhouette. Here are bays and capes in miniature, and 
 pretty little harbors where fairy fleets might an- 
 chor." 
 
 "From Catawba Island the telegraph cable takes a 
 long leap — stops a moment at "Mouse" island and 
 then plunges into the lake to go to Put-in-Bay. The 
 happy swallows gather on the wire in August before 
 their trip to the South and talk over the coming jour- 
 ney, all unconscious of the messages under their feet, 
 messages of births and deaths and marriages that shall 
 make the heart flutter, many a cheek to pale or flush 
 at Put-in-Bay. What do the swallows care? Robins 
 too shall sing a sunset carol for you on the wire, and 
 you may sink to sleep with the echo of his gentle ves- 
 per in your ears." 
 
 "You might have seen Perry start out from here 
 several years ago with his fleet. How queer those 
 old vessels would look now!" 
 
 *'On this shelving beach many and many a time has 
 the bark canoe of the Indian grated. Here he was ab- 
 sorbed in thoughts of his spirit, and here too he pro- 
 bably absorbed a great deal too much spirit, after the 
 white man came." 
 
!^ 
 
 ''CRirsOE'' ISLANDS OF ERIE. 
 
 m 
 
 amping 
 
 urnalist 
 
 liore of 
 Island, 
 onlightj 
 tie port 
 i gentle 
 ire, and 
 fht an- 
 
 takes a 
 nd and 
 r. The 
 t before 
 g jour- 
 eir feet, 
 lat shall 
 )r flush 
 Robins 
 ire, and 
 tie ves- 
 
 m here 
 those 
 
 ime has 
 was ab- 
 he pro- 
 fter the 
 
 : 
 
 "If you do go to Mouse island this summer, the 
 memory of it shall have its halo for you." 
 
 Mouse island — it may be added — has won distinc- 
 tion as having once been the property of ex-Prest. 
 Rutherford B. Hayes. 
 
 Concerning " Catawba island " — it may here 
 be stated that it is not an island, but rather a peninsula. 
 It is therefore outside the territorial boundaries in- 
 cluded in this volume. However, it may not be out 
 of place to state incidentally that the locality is noted 
 for its interesting reminiscences of aboriginal occupancy 
 and early pioneer days, as well as for its extensive 
 orchards, especially peaches, and for its desirability as 
 a quiet, restful summer resort. 
 
 "Gull" formed in early days a resort both for 
 sea-gulls which repaired thither in flocks to lay their 
 eggs in the sand, and for adventurers who went to 
 gather them. 
 
 "Buckeye" and "Lost Ballast" are gems in mini- 
 ature. Only fifteen or twenty years ago the latter was 
 an extension of Ballast island proper, from which it 
 was cut by the wear of waves, and is now separated by 
 a sweep of water. Covered with trees and shrub- 
 berry, this tiny islet — subsequenlly named "Lost Bal- 
 last" — forms an emerald setting in the blue water. 
 
 "Starve" island is said to have taken its name from 
 the melancholy fact that somewhere about the open- 
 ing of the present century a sailor got stranded there- 
 on, where he starved to death. The skeleton of the 
 unfortunate man was afterwards found bleaching upon 
 its barren shore. 
 
 
 It n 
 
 m 
 
 i. 
 
 %i ;•' 
 
 1^ 
 

 I 
 * 
 
 t i 
 
 338 
 
 ''CRUSOE'' ISLANDS OF ERIE. 
 
 Starve island forms a mass of rock and scant veg- 
 etation and its adjacent reefs are known as danger 
 points and carefully shunned by cruising vtssels. It 
 boasts not even a Crusoe, and was recently purchased 
 by Cincinnati capitalists, who, it is said, p- opose es- 
 tablishing thereon an asylum for decayed politicans. 
 
 i I 
 
 *!'; 
 
 ^ 
 
 I , 
 
 ii! 
 
AN EVENTFUL NIGHT. 
 
 Thrilling: Story of the Burning of Green Island Light 
 
 House in '64. 
 
 "That cold New Year's night," is the 
 way the old folks put it when they refer 
 o tne time wherein occurred the events 
 here narrated. The night was that o^ 
 the outgoing of '63 and the incoming of 
 '64, and is remembered as the coldest ever 
 known in this country. Among the is- 
 lands, exposed as they are to the fierce blasts which 
 sweep Lake Erie, this particular cold snap was 
 especially noted. 
 
 December 31, 1863, was mild as an April day- 
 Heavy rains had fallen, filling ditches and lowlands 
 with water, while the lake was entirely free from ice. 
 With the cessation of the rain, however, a gale sprang 
 up from the Northwest which steadily increased in 
 violence. As darkness fell and night advanced, 
 the sea rose in its strength and swept the shores with 
 a deafening roar. The gale became terrific in force 
 and its breath cut like daggers, so that pedestrians 
 along the island roads could scarcely face it. Within a 
 few hours the mercury dropped from 60 degrees above 
 to 25 degrees below zero. 
 
 At Doller's Hall on Put-in-Bay, a party of young 
 
 
340 
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT. 
 
 I K ^ 
 
 ■::.\ 
 
 \\ m 
 
 If 
 
 people had assembled to dance "the old year out, and 
 the new in," but owing to the extreme cold they had 
 deserted the dancing floor and had formed a gathering 
 around the stove. Suddenly the gioup was startled by 
 a glimmer which shot up over the tree-tops, faintly 
 illuminating the windows of the hall. 
 
 "It's the moon rising," suggested one. But no, 
 there was no moon, and in a moment a bright flame 
 arose, mounting higher and higher, while the sky was 
 a lurid glare of light. A few moments later came the 
 news: 
 
 "Green Island light-house is on fire!" 
 
 This intelligence struck a chill to the hearts of all who 
 realized its import to the isolated keeper and his family 
 on that bitter night; for in the wild storm raging 
 without, the boiling sea and the midnight darkness, 
 no human aid could reach them. 
 
 While at Put-in-Bay the alarm was spreading, Col- 
 onel Drake, the light-keeper at Green Island, and his 
 family were gathered in the sitting-room of the cottage 
 which flanked the tower, and formed a part of the 
 structure. The hour was late. They were watching 
 the old year out. No apprehension of danger came to 
 them until above the roar of the wind they heard the 
 crackling of flames. A moment later the whole upper 
 portion of the building was discovered to be all ablaze. 
 
 With characteristic coolness Colonel Drake attired 
 himself in boots, hat, and overcoat before making iny 
 attempt to fight the fire, but seized with consternation 
 his wife and daughter rushed at once from the house — 
 the latter bareheaded, barearmed, and with feet pro- 
 tected only by thin stockings and slippers. 
 
AN EVENTFUL NIGHT. 
 
 Ml 
 
 ut, and 
 ley had 
 thering 
 tied by 
 faintly 
 
 5ut no, 
 t flame 
 ky was 
 I me the 
 
 all who 
 
 5 family 
 
 raging 
 
 rkness, 
 
 g, Col- 
 
 and his 
 
 cottage 
 
 of the 
 
 etching 
 
 a me to 
 
 ird the 
 
 upper 
 
 ablaze. 
 
 attired 
 
 mg iny 
 
 rnation 
 
 ouse — 
 
 et pro- 
 
 By means of a ladder Colonel Drake mounted to 
 the roof with a pail of water. Miss Drake caught up a 
 pail in each hand, and filling them from the lake 
 passed them to her mother by whom they were carried 
 up the ladder to the burning roof where the keeper 
 was making a brave effort to stay the flames. 
 
 Over thirty pails of water were in this manner 
 transferred to the roof, but though they worked with 
 the energy of despair the fire steadily gained and Col- 
 onel Drake was forced to beat a retreat down the 
 ladder. 
 
 The family now turned their attention to the saving 
 of their valuables, some of which were secured, but 
 already the interior of the house was burning and 
 smoke met them at the door in stifling volumes. A 
 sudden thought of his family's precarious condition 
 almost turned the brain of Colonel Drake. Unless he 
 could succeed in saving a bed or two with which to 
 protect them from the intense cold, they must inevitably 
 perish, since no assistance could reach them from ad- 
 jacent islands until the sea went down. He darted 
 into the burning structure. Tongues of flame licked 
 his face, singed hair and beard, and the smoke blinded 
 and choked' him. With a desperate bound he gained 
 the door of an adjacent room. The flames had already 
 communicated to this apartment, but the bed was still 
 untouched. Upon it was a tick filled with feathers 
 and another with straw. Histily rolling them into a 
 comforter, he shouldered the bundle and succeeded 
 narrowly in makinp^ an exit from his perilous situation. 
 
 The scene no.v presented was one of the wildest 
 grandeur. Blown by the howling blast, the fire surged, 
 
 m 
 
 A 
 
 
! 
 
 i -s 
 
 l,f 
 
 I ■ 
 
 ii 
 
 11 
 
 342 
 
 AN EVENTFUL NIGHT, 
 
 and roared, and by its vivid light could be seen 
 line after line of white breasted waves rushing 
 tumultuously shoreward, and breaking with a thunder- 
 ing sound at the base of the tower. . Clouds of blind- 
 ing surf mounted thirty feet into the air and showered 
 upon the steps, freezing as it fell, and forming a glar- 
 ing pavement of ice upon the very threshold of the 
 burning structure. Wind and sea, fire and darkness 
 had united, and seemed to vie each with each other in 
 painting a picture of savage sublimity. 
 
 To the houseless family the situation was one of 
 horror. Under strong, nervous pressure Miss Drake 
 had exhibited unwonted endurance, but when nothing 
 more could be done, strength deserted her and she 
 sank into an almost insensible condition. An exami- 
 nation revealed the fact that her ears, arms and legs* 
 were frozen stiff. The bed was removed to an out- 
 hc e which remained standing, and with father and 
 mother the girl was tucked carefully between the ticks, 
 and thus through the remaining hours of the night 
 they endenvored to keep each other warm. 
 
 Pitt Drake, son of the light-keeper, was at Put-in- 
 Bay, having formed one of the party assembled at 
 Doller's Hall. Frenzied with apprehension concern- 
 ing the tate of his kindred, the young man could hardly 
 be restrained during the night from setting out by boat 
 for Green Island — an undertaking which could have 
 resulted only in his being drowned. ^ 
 
 With the dawn of New Year's day came a lull in 
 the storm. The unprecedented cold had thickened the 
 waters of the channel with slush ice and frozen drift, 
 and although a heavy sea was still rolling a few miles 
 
/I A' EVENTFUL NIGHT. 
 
 343 
 
 beyond, the ch.innel between the two islands was be- 
 coming rapidly crusted with thin ice. 
 
 Pitt Drake was now determined to hazard a passage 
 to Green Island, two miles distant, and in the enter- 
 prise was re-inforced by a number of hardy and coura- 
 geous men. Two cutters were procured, together 
 with ropes, pike poles and several long planks. The 
 ice was not suHiciently strong to bear men and cutters, 
 and the way was bridged with planks which were pro- 
 jected forward and each as it was passed over was 
 taken up to be again placed in position. Several times 
 the' shifting and sinking of these planks threatened 
 disaster, but the party reached their destiuation with- 
 out serious mishap. 
 
 With a feeling of dread Pitt Drake now approached 
 the smoldering ruins of the light house. No signs of 
 life were visible; the liitle island seemed empty and 
 deserted. 
 
 Had the family perished in the flames, or had they 
 suffered the slower agony of death by freezing.'' 
 
 While with a beating heart he sought for a solution 
 of this problem, a shout was heard from the outbuild- 
 ing — the only one which the island now contained. The 
 unfortunates had been discovered, and in a moment 
 young Drake had clasped the hands of his kindred and 
 was shedding tears of gladness and relief unspeak- 
 able. The family was removed to Put-in-Bay — by 
 means of the cutters employed — where they were 
 taken in and cared for at the nearest habitation. They 
 were all more or less prostrated, and medical aid was 
 summoned for Miss Drake whose sufferings from the 
 exposure of the previous night were terrible. Col. 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
k i3 
 
 i 1 1 
 
 
 344 
 
 AJV EVENTFUL NIGHT. 
 
 Drake also suffered both from the cold and from burns 
 received. ' . 
 
 The Drake family subsequently removed to the 
 mainland. Thirty-five years have passed since the oc- 
 currence here recorded. Green Island lighthouse was 
 substantially rebuilt at a later date by the U. S. gov- 
 ernment, but the old residents of neighboring islands 
 have never forgotten the night when the original 
 structure went up in flame and smoke. 
 
m burns 
 
 to the 
 ! the oc- 
 ise was 
 S. gov- 
 
 islands 
 original 
 
 ;■; i 
 
i^ 
 
 CD 
 
 t- 
 Z3 
 Ol 
 
 I 
 en 
 
 U 
 
 O 
 
 < 
 _J 
 C3 
 
is 
 
 CD 
 Z 
 
 3 
 
 Q. 
 
 I 
 LTt 
 
 u 
 
 o 
 
 QC 
 < 
 
 < 
 
 _J 
 C3 
 
 SOME INTERESTING GEOLOGICAL FEATURES: 
 The "Lost Atlantis'' of Lake Erie. 
 
 
 GLACIAL ROCKS-KELLEY ISLAND. 
 Photo by J. J.StrADHliaD, 
 
 While cogitating over the strange but not impos- 
 sible story told by Ignatius Donnelly of a "Lost At- 
 lantis," it IS a question whether the average island 
 dweller of the present generation realizes that within 
 the Nineteenth century a Lake Erie "Atlantis" has 
 disappeared, neck and heels beneath the waves. 
 
 Through local reminiscence and scientific record 
 
340 TNTEkESTlKG GEOLOGtCAL FEATURES. 
 
 11 
 
 ■! ' 
 
 ■1 I 
 
 
 we are informed that an island more than a mile long, 
 one half mile wide and from twenty to twenty-five feet 
 high, formerly extended across the mouth of Sandusky 
 bay. Fertile meadow was there seen and trees meas- 
 urin<r two and one-half feet in diameter. But where 
 once nourished the island and its products now roll the 
 billows of Erie. 
 
 From this and other circumstances, naturally lead- 
 ing to such a conclusion, Prof. Moseley of Sandusky, 
 who has thoroughly studied the lake region, deduces 
 the theory that the lake bed is gradually becoming 
 tilted, or elevated at its eastern extremity, causing a 
 rise in the average level of its head waters and corres- 
 ponding submergence as indicated. Since, however, 
 old navigators and others are inclined to ascribe this 
 island's disappearance to the wear of strong currents 
 and beat of storms. Prof. Moseley seeks to establish his 
 theory by the results of further investigation, calling 
 attention to the well known fact that in the caves of 
 Put-in-Bav, the subterranean waters of which rise and 
 fall with the lake, stalagmites not only but stalacites 
 are found attached to the floor and roofs of submerged 
 caverns; the latter five feet below the present lake level. 
 For these to form in water would be an impossibility 
 and their position as indicated show, according to Prof. 
 Moseley, a rise of the water, though other theorists 
 might ascribe the circumstance to a shifting and settling 
 of the honey combed rocks . 
 
 Large quantities of submerged timber found in the 
 extensive marshlands bordering the lake shores in the 
 vicinity of the islands Hkewise indicate a rise of at least 
 eight feet, and the submerged channels of rivers and 
 
5-. 
 
 INTERESTING GEOLOGICAL FEATURES. 347 
 
 e long, 
 ive feet 
 ndusky 
 3 meas- 
 where 
 roll the 
 
 ly lead- 
 idusky, 
 ieduces 
 coming 
 using a 
 corres- 
 3wever, 
 ibe this 
 purrents 
 )lish his 
 calling 
 aves of 
 'ise and 
 alacites 
 merged 
 :e level, 
 ssibility 
 o Prof, 
 leorists 
 settling 
 
 in the 
 in the 
 at least 
 brs and 
 
 streams in the same vicinity show a rise of at least 
 thirty-two feet. These facts are given by Prof. Mose- 
 ley as proofs of a gradual rise of the waters. If the 
 above theory is correct, then instead of wearing away 
 and draining Lake Erie to the compass of a stream, as 
 certain other theorists have predicted, Niagara Falls 
 may become tilted to such a degree as to finally pre- 
 clude the egress of the lake waters, which in conse- 
 quence will continue rising and extending, submerging 
 the lowlands along its shores and the islands at its cen- 
 ter until, filled to overflowing, they will seek an outlet 
 southward from the lake basin to the valley of the 
 Mississippi. 
 
 This then seems the fate in store for both island and 
 mainland at the head of Lake Erie, unless averted by 
 a change in the earth's structural progrc'm. However, 
 in the event of such a calamity, it is safe to infer that 
 the present inhabitants will not be there to suffer from 
 the consequent drowning out. 
 
 Concerning the lake archipelago. Prof. G. Frederick 
 Wright, the noted iscientist of Oberlin college, refers to 
 the region as "one of the most interesting on the 
 American continent," forming as it does a most im- 
 portant geological boundary. 
 
 Prominent among features of interest may be noted 
 the fact that the islands are what remain above the 
 present lake level of a long, narrow upheaval known as 
 the "Cincinnati Anti-Clinal," which appeared when all 
 the rest of the United States vas still under the ocean. 
 Further concerning this formation, an authority states 
 as follows: 
 
 "A local and peculiar upheaval in this ridge, of which 
 
rM 
 
 II 
 
 If 
 
 w. 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 J'' 
 
 t t 
 
 1 
 
 ; 
 
 . 
 
 
 1:1 
 
 j ! 
 
 348 INTERESTING GEOLOGICAL TEA TURES. 
 
 Put- in-Bay is near the center, brought up a formation 
 of the rocky structure geologically lower than the sur- 
 rounding portions of the ridge. The portion thus 
 brought up and which constitutes the under rocks of 
 Put-in-Bay island, is known as the water line of the 
 Niagara group, and is literally honeycombed with 
 caves. It is no exaggeration to say that under almost 
 every acre of this island exists one of these cavernous 
 places. The upheaval-formed arches and the settling 
 down of unsupported strata formed rooms with roofs 
 and floors." 
 
 Since in the past the lake islands have formed the 
 center of subterranean disturbances of a local character, 
 so they may and probably do still form such, as evi- 
 denced by a slight, but very peiceptible earthquake 
 shock which visited them only a half dozen years ago. 
 On this occasion the disturbance proved local, center- 
 ing as near as could be ascertained at Isle St. George 
 but extending across the lake and touching the shores 
 on both sides. In view of these conditions, residents of 
 tlie more nervous and imaginative sort have at times 
 fancied themselves dwelling over Tophet and have lived 
 in fear of an early collapse of the islands and submerg- 
 ence beneath the waters of Erie. 
 
 The caves of Put-in-Bay area never ceasing wonder 
 alike to the scientist and lover of adventure, both of 
 whom seek from time to time to explore their mysteries 
 and whole chapters might be written of the thrilling 
 experiences in the Plutonian darkness of chambers and 
 passages leading —nobody knows whither. All, or 
 nearly all, of these caverns contain miniature lakes and 
 channels of cold, clear water, connecting with Lake 
 
roofs 
 
 LVTE RESTING GEOLOGICAL LEA TURES. 340 
 
 irilHng 
 rs and 
 
 11, or 
 es and 
 
 Lake 
 
 GLACIAL MARKED ROCKS OF "STARVE" ISLAND. 
 Photo by J . .1 . Slrii'ialinn. 
 
 Erie and are generally conceded to be ancient water 
 . courses. 
 
 The subterranean drainage of the island is remarked 
 in the caverns not only, but in the cellars and wells, the 
 former becoming flooded when the wind is east and the 
 lake level high; the latter regularly rising and falling 
 with the lake. 
 
 So far as revealed by exploration. Perry's cave is the 
 largest on the island. This cave is nearly forty feet 
 below the surface. It is 200 feet long, 165 feet wide, 
 and has an average height of seven feet. Though 
 spanned by a single arch the interior has standing 
 room upon its floors for 8,000 persons. The roof was 
 
f 
 
 850 INTERESTING GEOLOGICAL FEATURES. 
 
 \'M' 
 
 f! f- ; 
 
 formerly studded thick with stalactites, but these have 
 nearly all been broken off and carried away by speci- 
 men collectors and venders, but the stalagmite floor — 
 formed by century droppings of water holding in solu- 
 tion calcium carbonate — forms a study of interest. 
 
 At the further extrc.nity, and extending back under 
 cleft and caverned rocks, stretches a lake of crystal 
 clearness and viewed by torchlight the scene at this 
 point is wierdly beautiful. For a number of years 
 Perry's cave has been regularly opened each season to 
 summer visitors, thousands of whom annually view it. 
 An annex to this cave is known as "Perry's Bedroom." 
 
 "Crystal Cave,*' newly discovered and opened to 
 visitors, is now attracting attention. Though not as 
 large as the former, "Crystal Ca- e" combines so much 
 of novelty and interest that even the oldest inhabitant 
 now wonders how it has been kept so long in the dark. 
 Its discovery in connection with extensive strontia de- 
 posits, of which it forms a part, is a matter of especial 
 comment. 
 
 During the winter of '97 and '98 newspapers all 
 over the country recorded as an important item the dis- 
 covery of strontia at Put-in-Bay and quite a wave of 
 interest was sent through the country, setting on the 
 quivive mineralogists, chemists and scientists generally. 
 
 As a matter of fact the discovery is new only to the 
 outside world, as it was originally made in 1859 ^"^ 
 the existence of strontia deposits has since been gener- 
 ally known to the islanders. Much interest was mani- 
 fested by visitors of a scientific trend, among whom was 
 State Geologist Newberry, whose attention was at- 
 tracted thereto while visiting the island. 
 
e have 
 
 speci- 
 
 ^oor — 
 
 n solu- 
 
 ■ • 
 
 under 
 crystal 
 at this 
 
 years 
 ison to 
 ew it. 
 ootn." 
 led to 
 not as 
 
 much 
 ibitant 
 
 dark, 
 ia de- 
 ipecial 
 
 irs all 
 le dis- 
 ive of 
 m the 
 Tally, 
 to the 
 9 and 
 jener- 
 mani- 
 n was 
 IS at- 
 
 ■i*l 
 
i' 
 
 Ml 
 
 'ii 
 
 ■« 
 
 i 
 
 ■■ 
 
 ■I 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 i 
 
 i : i 
 
 ) i 
 
 I ; 
 
 LU 
 
 > 
 
 U 
 en 
 
 >- 
 
 rc 
 
 CE 
 
 O 
 tr 
 
 UJ 
 
 i- 
 
INTERESTING GEOLOGICAL FEA TC'RES 
 
 ^51 
 
 o 
 
 O 
 
 
 In 1882 a European tourist, Lieut. Eniiel Vanador, 
 then on leave of absence from his post in the German 
 army, chanced to visit the archipelago. He was a man 
 of extensive learning and while at Put-in-Bay made the 
 acquaintance of the late Capt. John Brown, Jr., of whom 
 he became an intimate friend. Both being interested 
 in geological research, they together explored the 
 rocks and caves of the island, and in this way the dis- 
 tinguished foreigner soon learned of the strontia de- 
 posits. He began prospecting on his own account, 
 ending by leasing for a period of twenty-five years 
 grounds near Perry's Cave. A shaft was sunk and 
 mining at once begun. About seventy-tive tons of the 
 product were dug out, but on learning that the cost of 
 shipment to Germany via Atlantic ports would be 
 heavy, Lieut. Vanador decided to abandon for a time 
 his enterprise, especially as the company which he re- 
 presented was then working a strontia mine in Italy 
 at less cost for transportation. That at Put-in-Bay 
 was therefore closed, until the Italian deposits should 
 have become exhausted. A rude, but strongly built 
 structure was erected over the i.ine, the tools enclosed 
 and the door securely barred. A power of attorney 
 was committed by Venador to Captain Brown together 
 with the keys of the mine, and the stranger took his 
 departure leaving the islanders in a state of wonder as 
 to the purpose of his visit, his movements having been 
 somewhat mysterious. 
 
 Since for a number of years nothing was heard of 
 Vanador, and as the lease had not been paid up to time, 
 the present owner of the land finally adopted legal 
 measures to have the contract annulled and in this way 
 
 -I 
 
 ..•- '"i 
 

 r FIhH '.- 
 
 ■i I^^B T 
 
 l.i' 
 
 1 
 
 t , 
 
 rt. v 
 
 1: 
 
 1; 9 
 
 :ll 
 
 t! 
 
 !i 
 
 362 rXTERESTLVG GEOLOGICAL PEA TURES. 
 
 gained possession. For the first time since its closing 
 the mine was thrown open to the light, and the shipping 
 away of several tons of strontia formed the agency 
 which spread abroad the supposed new discovery. 
 The strontia vein struck by Venador in 1882 is of 
 great thickness, and the mineral is remarkable for its 
 purity. In close connection with the mine is "Crystal 
 Cave." It was at first dillicult of access, and little was 
 known on the island concerning it, until fully opened 
 up by the new owner, Gustav Ileinemann, during 
 the winter and spring of iSpS. The cave is 22 feet be- 
 low the surface, and is now descended by a flight of 
 stairs, and viewed under electric lights by which it is 
 illuminated the place resembles a "fairy grotlo." It has 
 also been referred to as "a jewel casket of the nymphs." 
 
 The interior comprises several chambers and the 
 side walls of each are of solid strontia — dazzling, flash- 
 ing in their crystalline whiteness. The ceilings are arch- 
 ed and hung with prism itically formed crystals, emit- 
 ting all the colors of the rainbow with a fascinating 
 briUiancy not unlike that of the clearest cut diamonds. 
 The owner, who up to the present time has earned his 
 bread as a common day laborer, possesses, evidently, a 
 fortune in Crystal Cave and in the mine connecting 
 therewith. 
 
 In the dim past, the islands were alternately sub- 
 merged or drained according to existing conditions of 
 the earth's formative forces. Says Prof. Newberry: 
 
 "We have evidence that the country about the is- 
 lands was once all dry land, and a large river then flow- 
 ed down the present bed of the lake and emptied near 
 New York City." 
 
f. 
 
 /NTE RESTING GEOLOGICAL FEATURES. 
 
 a.-3 
 
 closing 
 [lipping 
 agency 
 covery. 
 I2 is of 
 t for its 
 Crystal 
 :tle was 
 opened 
 , during 
 feet be- 
 ilighl of 
 ich it is 
 
 It has 
 ^mphs." 
 md the 
 5, flash- 
 re arch- 
 
 emit- 
 inating 
 monds. 
 ned his 
 ently, a 
 necting 
 
 ly sub- 
 ions of 
 vberry: 
 the is- 
 n flow- 
 ed near 
 
 GLACIAL GROOVES OF THE SO'JTH SHORE-PU T-IN-BAY. 
 
 Prof. Mjseley observes as follows: 
 
 ''If there were dwellers on Marblehead at the time 
 of the building of the pyramids, they might have walk- 
 ed to Kellev island or Put in-Bav at any time of the 
 year." 
 
 At that period the island cave passages were sup- 
 posed to be tributary 1 3 surface streams emptying into 
 the river above mentioned. 
 
 A period concerning which notable evidences exist 
 on the islands was that of the great ice age, when 
 glaciers 1000 feet high scooped out the bed of Lake 
 Erie and left their ineffaceable groovings upon the 
 lime-rock. 
 
 In very many places at Put-in- Bay, Kelley Inland, 
 
 V : 
 
354 
 
 INTERESTING GEOLOGICAL FEA TURES. 
 
 \ - 
 
 Middle Bass, Isle St. George, "Starve," and other is- 
 lands, scoring the flat rocks and extending under the 
 water of the lake, are seen these glacial marks, too in- 
 delibly graven to be mistaken. Their course runs uni- 
 formly from Northeast to Southwest, and the scratch- 
 ed stones and granite bouMers left behind are heaped 
 in terminal moraines, or scattered promiscuously over 
 the land. 
 
 Especially famous are the glacial rocks of Kelley 
 island, which, formimg the terminus of a line of bluffs 
 overlooking "North Bay," represent one of the island's 
 greatest attractions. "Glacial Rocks" comprise a re- 
 servaton rescued from the quarryman's pick and der- 
 rick, and set aside by gift of the late Mr. Younglove, of 
 Cleveland, to the Western Reserve Historical Society, 
 for preservation as a scientific marvel. 
 
 As an example of the stupendous carvings wrought 
 by the "granite chisels" of the drift period, these rocks 
 have probably no parallel in the United States, and the 
 regular outlines and polished smoothness thereof sug- 
 gest the idea and produce the effect of some gigantic 
 piece of sculpture. To view them, parties represent- 
 ing members of scientific circles, classes from our uni- 
 versities, curio hunters and adventurers make special 
 pilgrimages to the island. 
 
 The geological formation of Kelley island is dis- 
 tinct from that of Put-in-Bay, beini; of Cornifcrcrous 
 limestone, blue in tint and lying in strata of varied 
 thicknesses. 
 
 The Kelley island quarries are productive of many 
 rare fossils, those of extinct fishes being especially, 
 numerous. The fossilized jaws of the Onychodus a foot 
 
Qther is- 
 nder the 
 i. too m- 
 uns uni- 
 scratth- 
 heaped 
 i\y over 
 
 Kelley 
 of bluffs 
 island's 
 ise a re- 
 md der- 
 ^love, of 
 Society, 
 
 wrought 
 e rocks 
 and the 
 3f sug- 
 ^igantic 
 ►resent- 
 ur uni- 
 special 
 
 is dis- 
 ererotis 
 varied 
 
 INTERESTING GEOLOGICAL FEATURES 355 
 
 long, and studded with sharp pointed teeth, have there 
 been unearthed with other interesting relics of by-gone 
 ages. 
 
 An ancient shore line, which -ngles across the is- 
 land, forming a zigzig wall of precipitous and water- 
 worn rock, and overlooking wide levels where once 
 rolled the waters of Erie, forms also an interesting 
 geological feature of Kelley island. 
 
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 AMONG THE FISHERIES. 
 
 INCOMING OF THE FISHING BOATS. 
 Photo l)y Rev. W. Frcil All.-ii. 
 
 It is a fact generally conceded that the Lake Erie 
 archipelago, with Its extended network of channels, 
 together with the bays and inlets of adjacent mainland 
 shores, formed in past years the most extensive fresh 
 water fishing grounds in the world. This was what 
 made Sandusky the first city ot importance as a mar- 
 ket for fresh fish, more of the product being there 
 handled by various firms dealing in the commodity, it 
 
iO* 
 
 ^ake Erie 
 
 channels, 
 
 t mainland 
 
 isive fresh 
 
 was what 
 
 as a mar- 
 
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 AMONG THE FISHERIES. 
 
 85" 
 
 is said, than at any other commercial centei* on either 
 continent. The archipelago and its envirorment thus 
 achieved world-wide fame, and the once sleepy old city 
 on Sandusky bay outshone — along one line at least — all 
 competitors, and might have with fitness emblazoned 
 "Excelsior" upon her banners. Some idea of the Lake 
 Erie fishing industry as carried on a few years ago 
 might have been formed by a cruise over its waters. 
 A trip between Sandusky and the islands, or in almost 
 any direction from the island center, would have Sierved 
 as an illustration. Everywhere stretching through 
 the shoal waters lor which the lake is noted, might 
 have been seen lines and lines of gill nets, with tiie 
 more complicated combination of "cribs," "hearts" 
 and "leads," comprising the poundmen's outfit. Ob- 
 servers who had the means of knowing state that the 
 shores from Sandusky to Buffalo were strung all 
 along with pounds and gill nets, and at that place tlie 
 latter extended across the lake to the Canadian main 
 — the twine being buoyed to the surface in the deep 
 water intervening. Gill nets were especially numer- 
 ous, and It is safe to say that gill net twine on the lake 
 might have been measured by hundred mile lengths. 
 At the head of the lake and around the islands, how- 
 ever, centered the main business of entrapping the un- 
 suspecting finnys. Down on the mud bottoms where 
 flourished the herring and other representatives of the 
 race reached the fatal meshes, and to a fate sad and 
 inexorable yielded the poor scaly coatt None so re • 
 morseless as the fishermen, and once within his grip 
 'twas useless for the captive to flop even a fin. With 
 so many plotters against his peace, it became a query 
 
 %:i 
 
 1 
 
m 
 
 p; 
 
 'I 
 
 358 
 
 AMONG THE FISHEJ^IES. 
 
 U: 
 
 hi. 
 
 u 
 
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 i 
 
 11 
 1 1 
 
 ( s 
 
 
 UNLOADING THE CARGO, 
 Photo br Rev. W. Fred Allen, 
 
 oft how any denizen of the deep managed to reach 
 maturity, and whether he ever did get old enough to 
 vote. The prospect of an early consignment to the 
 frying-pan did not materially affect his tpirits or appe- 
 tite, however. He lived on present opportunity, with 
 no thought of the morrow. 
 
 At Put-in-Bay, then, appeared many strange faces. 
 Groups of men at the shipping docks, before the post- 
 office and saloon, or going and coming along the side- 
 walks. They were variously attired, with a prepon- 
 derance of cheese-colored oil coats, sou-westers and 
 high water boots with straps which trailed the ground. 
 These men were gill netters from up and down the 
 
AMOXG THE F/SHEIUES. 
 
 359 
 
 lake who were making the ishmd a temporary ren- 
 dezvous. Their boats were seen at the piers — tugs, 
 sometimes six or eight in at one time lying together 
 in a single fleet, and representing Cleveland, Buffalo, 
 Erie, Huron and Detroit, with the nearer home ports. 
 
 The dock presented a busy scene tilled with gill 
 net reels upon which fishermen wound their nets, 
 while boxes tilled with flopping fishes stood awaiting 
 consignment. With early dawn the boats were off for 
 the fishing grounds east, west, north, south, and sun- 
 up saw the blue lake flecked with the sails of pound 
 boats, and trailed by the smoke of tugs. 
 
 The steamer doing duty on the " fish route" 
 reached Put-in-Bay early in the forenoon, and began 
 her daily round among the islands, collecting the flop- 
 ping products as they were unloaded from the return- 
 ing fishing boats. Such in brief was a fishing season 
 among the islands during the palmiest days of this in- 
 dustry. Little wonder that the lake should suffer from 
 a drainage so heavy. 
 
 With the complaint that its waters were becoming 
 depopulated, and with the restrictions placed on gill 
 netting and other methods of fishing the scene changed. 
 Fewer nets, boats and fishermen have appeared lat- 
 terly, and the profits to those interested have been cor- 
 respondingly smaller. True, the business carried on 
 is still extensive and the depopulation of the waters 
 continues, but on a less scale. 
 
 As a means of restocking the lakes, the govern- 
 ment work projected through the United States Fish 
 Commission bids fair to compass the object. The 
 location at Put-in-Bay of the United Stales Fish 
 
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 360 
 
 AMONG THE FISHERIES. 
 
 DRYING THE NETS. 
 Photo by Rev W. treil Allen. 
 
 Hatchery was the first step in this direction, and its 
 successful operation is a matter of general interest. 
 
 But for the products of this establishment already 
 planted in the lake, the white fish and pickerel, it is be- 
 lieved, would now be almost extinct. 
 
 An appropriation of $2o,coo was origiually made 
 by Congress for the erection of the hatchery, though 
 the cost of additions and improvements since made 
 aggregate considerablv more. 
 
 The structure is located on the shores of " Squaw 
 Harbor," commanding a fine view of Gibraltar Island, 
 the bay and its shipping. It is artistically and ele- 
 gantly planned and forms, it is said, the largest and 
 best equipped establishment of the kind in the world. 
 
, and its 
 rest. 
 
 already 
 It is be- 
 
 y made 
 though 
 ce made 
 
 »' Squaw 
 r Island, 
 and de- 
 vest and 
 le world. 
 
 J. S. FISH HATCHERY-INTERIOR VIEW. 
 
i'- 
 
 .Mil 
 
AMONG THE FISHERIES. 
 
 361 
 
 X 
 
 Fronting the buildings are ample piers at which 
 may be seen the steamer Sheer zvatcr^ built for the use 
 of the United States Fish Commission at a cost of 
 about $10,000. 
 
 The interior of the hatchery was originally planned 
 as follows : Midway between the floor and a high 
 arched ceiling, ascended by a flight of stairs, appeared 
 a wide platform bearing two large tanks containing 
 each 6,000 gallons, which were filled from the lake by 
 means of pipes connecting. Descending from these tanks 
 ran a system of pipes to the batteries. Here within 
 glass jars were placed the eggs in process of hatching. 
 From the main pipes smaller ones extended, reaching 
 nearly to the bottom of each jar; and through them ran 
 constantly a stream of fresh water, causing a boiling 
 movement within, which kept the eggs in a chronic 
 state of commotion ; the jar thus forming a small, but 
 energetic whirlpool. As fast as the water poured in, 
 it was collected and carried away by a trough. 
 
 Since the improvements recently introduced, the 
 old system of water supply has given place to more 
 economical methods of keeping the necessary amount 
 of water in circulation. The batteries which contain 
 the jars are so regulated by pipes and other apparatus 
 that water from the main supply circulates eight times 
 through the whole system before passing into the 
 drainage canal. 
 
 To operate the establishment on the new system 
 requires about one-fourth less the amount of fuel pre- 
 viously used. 
 
 Each jar contains 140,000 white fish tg^%^ but 
 
 1 
 
 * 
 
 
362 
 
 AMONG THE FISHERIES. 
 
 lit. 
 
 . !, 
 
 $ ■ ! ■'■■ 
 
 ■1[|- 
 
 ■! \ 
 
 );' 
 
 ;^ 
 
 .V- 
 
 counting on other staple varieties of fish eggs which 
 are smaller, — the capacity of the hatchery is about 
 560,000,000 eggs. This, however, is more than the 
 lake fisheries have yet been able to supply at one 
 time. "" 
 
 When running at full capacity 1,250,000 gallons of 
 water were originally poured through the pipes and 
 reservoirs every twenty- four hours. 
 
 Suction pipes connect with both sides of the point 
 on which the hatchery is located; and if one becomes 
 damaged by storm or ice, water may be supplied from 
 the opposite side. Westward of Peach Point the pipe 
 extends 150 feet into the lake, and is held in place by 
 immense anchor bolts drilled into the solid rock bot- 
 tom. This is found a necessary precaution owing to 
 the heavy ice drifts which have a terrific force in tear- 
 ing things to pieces. 
 
 White, and other varieties of fish eggs aie supplied 
 from fisheries near and far, to collect which a large 
 force of men are employed. The price usually paid 
 for the same is forty cents per quart. 
 
 The general work of the establishment is directed 
 by Supt. J. J. Stranahan, appointed by the U. S. Fish 
 Commission, with Capt. J. C. Fox, assistant; while 
 the pumping plant is under the supervision of Chief 
 Engineer W. H. Wollett. 
 
 Some interesting specimens of aqueous products 
 are seen at the office of the Fish Commission, together 
 with some excellent photographs of fish eggs in various 
 stages of development taken by Supt. Stranahan from 
 microscopic projections. 
 
AArO.\G THE nsHER/KS. 
 
 363 
 
 iCted 
 
 Fish 
 
 while 
 
 Chief 
 
 U, S Pibh COMMISSION STPE^MtK SHEERWATER, 
 
 Lake trout, bass, herring, and pickerel are annually 
 propagated at this establishment. 
 
 Having emerged from the ^g^^-, the youthful finny 
 soon wearies of iiis whirlpool home, and seeks and 
 finds an outlet through other aqueducts into an im- 
 mense tank of fresh water. He is very tiny, but is af- 
 forded room to grow ; and when he gets too big for the 
 hatchery he is given the freedom of Liike Erie, or 
 shipped away to some of the lakes and rivers of other 
 localities. 
 
 To the uninitiated the "setting" and lifting of 
 fishing pounds are interesting processes. The ar- 
 rangement and anchorage of the twine is elaborate, 
 and its manipulation in rough weather is difficult and 
 dangerous. 
 
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 1 
 
 ' 
 
 
 1 
 
 m 
 
 
 M 
 
 864 
 
 t. :'i 
 
 AMONG THE FISHERIES, 
 
 Fishing through the ice, else- 
 where described in this volume, is 
 carried on both for pleasure and 
 profit. 
 
 Of all piscatorial pastimes, bass 
 fishing is the most popular and 
 includes among its votaries some 
 of the most distinguished men of 
 America, from ex- Presidential re- 
 presentatives to financiers, di- 
 directors of business enter- 
 prises and men of prominence gen- 
 erally. 
 
 Early in the glad month of 
 May, or early in September — as 
 the case ma^ be— these devotees 
 of the rod and reel put in an ap- 
 pearance, and are received with 
 
 PLAN OF A Fi^HlNG POUND, j 
 
 due ceremon)'. 
 
 At their disposal are placed whole fleets of boats, 
 and hotel doors swing wide to greet them. On the Bay 
 wharves they assemble each morning, forming with 
 their oarsmen a picturesque group: the nondescript 
 assortment of pails, lunch-baskets and fishing tackle, 
 the rubber coats, boots, umbrellas, and demijohns sur- 
 rounding them making an interesting jumble. 
 
 The bay tugs and small steamers find daily employ- 
 ment in carrying these parties to and from the fishing 
 grounds, and in the evening when the boats return, the 
 hotel grounds and porticoes are crowded with sports- 
 men — a spirited assemblage. 
 
 Strings of bass taken during the cruise are triumph- 
 
 
 • i r 
 
• . > 
 
 AMONG THE F/SHERIES. 
 
 antly exhibited and ardently admired, and the success- 
 ful sportsmen regale each other with freshly improvis- 
 ed fish stories. 
 
 A taste for "forbidden fruit" sometimes draws the 
 bass fisher a "leetle" too near the Canadian "preserves." 
 and not until surprised by the frowning guns of the 
 Dominion cruiser Petrel does he realize his where- 
 abouts. 
 
 A notable occurrence facetiously dubbed— "The 
 second battle of Lake Erie," took place in recent years, 
 in which the island steamers Visitor and Brooks with 
 their parties were captured and held for a time as prizes 
 \y the Petrel, thereby setting the whole country in a 
 fever of excitement. 
 
i 
 
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 m- 
 
 1 i 
 
 ' 
 
 il 
 
 t 
 
 STORM AND DARKNESS. 
 
 •' The North wind blew at nij^ht off tlie sea, 
 Saying sorrowful, sorrowful all of me ; 
 I bring in the wave with the brouen spar 
 And tie grey seas curliiit; over the bar 
 
 * * * * ■:■: ■:\ 
 
 " I sing the piercinL;; hurricane's breath, 
 
 I sing the horror of death ; 
 
 And the tempest's shriek in the rigging black? 
 
 And the spinthrift's wrath in the rolling wrack. 
 
 And the boat that never again came back. 
 
 Sorrowful, sorrowful all ol me." 
 
 "There's a storm in the air," observed the bronze 
 browed iisherman, as touching his finger to the tip of 
 his tongue he held it aloft, intently regarding it as if li 
 were a sort of barometer. 
 
 "By wetting your finger 30U can always tell from 
 

 STORM AND DARKNESS. 
 
 sei 
 
 rom 
 
 which direction the wind blows — cold on the side from 
 which it strikes, you Know." 
 
 With this bit of information gratuitously imparted, 
 the speaker adjusted his tarry "sou'- wester," lighted a 
 strongly scented pipe, and taking up a basket of torn 
 and slimy gill-nets strung with block buoys, proceeded 
 on his way along the beach, his angular form costumed 
 in fisherman's "oilers," yellow outlined against the 
 white gravel. 
 
 All day long the sun had waded through filmy Cir- 
 rus and his stare had grown dull and watery. He was 
 Hearing the horizon, when from a cloud cleft he shone 
 luridly forth. A fringe of scarlet leaved maples cap- 
 ping an adjacent bluff, flushed for a moment with still 
 deeper color, and the gray walls of an old house in the 
 cove were red-scumbled with its glow. Out of the 
 western waters there arose a vast cloud bank, and the 
 pall of its bb.ckness received the day-god. 
 
 The zenith became a medley of broken clouds — 
 black, white, and grey — tumultuously tossed as if the 
 upper airs were all at cross-currents. Clouds took the 
 shape of hideous monsters, and writhed like masses 
 of black snakes nested together; or like evil spirits 
 affrighted at their malign intentions, Hew confusedly 
 about in quest of hiding places. A breeze sprung up 
 and m'rm's.'ntarily freshened, curling into white-caps 
 the channel waters and sending adrift showers of 
 Autumn leaves. 
 
 Hilarious with delight the storm loving gull flap- 
 ped his broad wings, circled, and piroutted in air, and 
 with an exultant cry dove where breakers gleamed 
 whitest. 
 
Ehv 
 
 STORM AND DARKNESS. 
 
 1 i 
 
 Along a path leading by the old house down to the 
 circling beach beyond, came at twilight a chore boy 
 leading his horse to water, but the ring of iron hoofs 
 striking upon rough boulders and gravel stones was 
 drowned by the roar of wind and wave. 
 
 From her seat by the kitchen window Aunt Deb- 
 b}' complained largely of "rheumatiz," her corns, 
 bunions and other ailments. The cat came howling 
 to the door with broadened tail and bristles erect, and 
 when admitted glared wildly into every corner as if 
 seeking refuge from some impending danger - all 
 portends of a storm, they say, and Aunt Debby "reck- 
 oned," we were going to have "a reg'lar old snorter," 
 which forecast was destined to prove as correct as if 
 it had been projected by the chief clerk of the weather 
 bureau at Washington. 
 
 As night closed in, tiie v/ind rose in all its strength, 
 and with it the sea. The roar among the trees out- 
 side the house, and the boom of waves on \\wt shore 
 were terrific. Limbs were torn from their trunks and 
 detached twigs blown against the windows. Latches 
 rattled and doors creaked as if invisible spirits wer« 
 seeking admittance, while the wind over the chimne}' 
 shrieked a refrain wildly weird yet strangc^ly fascinat- 
 ing. Of such a night it was Byron who wrpte :- 
 
 "Thou wast not sent for slumber, 
 
 Let me be a sharer in thy fierce and tar A 
 
 A portion of the tempest, and of thee." 
 
 Out into the storm then I sallied intent upon catch- 
 ing its wild spirit. 
 
 Lashed by cyclonic violence, Lake Erie formed ^ 
 
/ 
 
 STORM AND DARKNESS, 
 
 369 
 
 )> 
 
 tch- 
 
 vast sheeted plain glistening white through the dark- 
 ness, and even at a distance from shore I felt its spray 
 fine as mist blown against my face. Cavern ed niches 
 were filled with a seething rush cf waves and the 
 shore woods echoed their hollow reverberatio ns. Surf 
 swept the rocks, and spray wreaths — like dim astrals 
 — were outlined among the trees. 
 
 Far off to westward I caught a glimmer— the star- 
 board light of some vessel out in the withering gale. 
 I tried to reach a bluff overlooking the sweep of 
 waters but the wind beat me back. Unable to face 
 it, cut by its keen tOi^'o. and chilled by its breat h, I re- 
 turned to my roof shelter full}' satisfised with the grip 
 I had experienced with the storm and darkness. 
 
 A feeling of anxiety possessed me, however, and 
 my mind was filled with thoughts of those "that go 
 down to the sea in ships," and when at a later hour I 
 retired for the night and lay listening to the warring 
 elements, I fancied that I heard the distress signal of a 
 steamer in trouble. I held my breath to listen but the 
 sounds multiplied until a dozen steamers seemed blow- 
 ing distress signals. Only the many tongued tempest 
 aided by imagination it proved; but the wind's shriek 
 grew wilder and more maniacal as midnight ap- 
 proached, and the waves voiced senti.r.t:nts of sadness 
 in their incessant beat. 
 
 ** Break, break, break. 
 
 On thy cold gray stones, oh sea ! 
 And I would that my tongue could utter. 
 
 The thoughts that arise in me." 
 
 Words once sent out by the dead poet laureate 
 from his ocean -swept home came to me unbidden; 
 while appeared visions of plunging wrecks, of wrecks 
 
370 
 
 STORM AND DARKNESS. 
 
 • 1 1 1* 
 
 j: !,( 
 
 aground upon rock and reef, going to pieces in the 
 midnight blackness; of shredded canvas, of yielding 
 planks, inrushing seas and drifting wreckage — of ex- 
 hausted seamen feebly clinging to toppling spars, of 
 hopeless seamen struggling in the awful grip of death 
 on the billow. 
 
 I thought of the occupants of homes far scattered 
 over island and mainland, who would lie awake listen- 
 ing to the wind's ravings and anxious for dear ones 
 abroad on the lakes. How long to them must seem 
 the hours until dawn should bring with it returns of 
 weal or woe. 
 
 Dropping into a half slumber, through which was 
 retained a consciousness of the howling storm, I saw in 
 a confused dream a wrecked vessel going to pieces. 
 The struggle between life and death was agonizing, 
 and just as the vessel and crew were sinking in a 
 yeast of waves I awoke. The grey dawn looked in 
 through the window; night and its terrors had passed, 
 and now to the telegraph and daily papers was left its 
 doubtful record. Messages from near and far 
 grouped together in the news column told of wreck- 
 age and death. 
 
 "Schooner ashore at Eagle Point in great 
 
 distresF." 
 
 "Schooner 
 
 of her crew lost." 
 
 "Barge 
 
 missing. ^ 
 
 "Schooner aground on Buzzard's reef. 
 
 Main and mizzen masts carried away, and two sailors 
 swept overboard," 
 
 — foundeied on Lake Huron; five 
 parted from her consort, and is 
 
STORM AND DARKNESS. 
 
 371 
 
 The list lengthened until the names of a dozen or 
 more vessels had been included among those wiped 
 from existence or partially wrecked, or that had met 
 with loss of life, or damage to cargo, until the details 
 grew sickening. Foi the last, however, was reserved 
 the saddest. Reported as missing was a steamer of 
 powerful build and magnificent proportions, which in 
 the pride of her beauty and strength had sailed from 
 a neighboring port. Invincible she had seemed to any 
 storm that might blow, and with all the misgivings 
 concerning her disappearance, were mingled hopes 
 that somewhere the missing steamer was still afloat. 
 Hut as hours lengthed into days and no tidings came, 
 hope grew fainter until at last came the definite but 
 crushing intelligence broadly headlining the daily news 
 column: 
 
 '^WRECKED!!'' 
 
 ** And Not a Soul Left to Tell the Tale/* 
 
 The great steamer and her crew of seventeen sea- 
 man had gone down to unknown graves. Glancing 
 over the list of those comprising the ill-fated crew, I 
 read and pondered over the dire calamity. The visions 
 of wreck and disaster that had come to me sleeping 
 and waking seemed to take shape as tangible reality. 
 
 *' God's winds have 'whelmed them under the foam, 
 God's waters have clasped them round"-- 
 
 reef. 
 ailors 
 
 /' 
 
 And mothers, wives and sisters will await in vain 
 the return of loved ones. 
 
 Is God then a monster, that calamities so fearful 
 and heart-rendings so agonizing should be by Him per- 
 
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 1 . 
 
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 ^ 
 
 
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 872 
 
 STORM AND DARKNESS, 
 
 mitted to afflict tlie children of men ; or is it only the 
 precipitation and magnitude of the event that appalls ? 
 Is that fate more harsh which plunges to sudden 
 drowning in a midnight sea, than that which dooms its 
 victims to death inch by inch from lingering disease ? 
 Who, after sober reflection, would not choose the 
 former ? 
 
 •• God. who maUeth the winds to blow, 
 
 And the waters to roll amain; 
 God, he maketh our thoughts to fllow, 
 
 And he calleth them back again." 
 
 " And he calleth the glory back to thee, 
 
 Oh, ship forgotten and drowned ! 
 He calleth the souls deep down in the sea, 
 
 God breaketh the still profound." 
 
 Is it worse in reality, or only in seeming, that fifty 
 or a hundred souls should perish together instead of 
 falling one by one.^ 
 
 Human perspective is limited, but God is infinite, 
 and to Him is known the whys and wherefores which 
 pass our comprehension. May not death be but the 
 initiative to larger spheres of life and action; of hope 
 and happiness, and prove as such but mercy in disguise? 
 
 *0h death, O life, the winsome and bright, 
 Twins in the bosom of time, 
 Death is the shadow that brides the light; 
 Life is the light sublime." 
 
WRECK OF THE ''DEAN RICHMOND/' 
 
 Weather fairer, milder, ne'er tempered Autumn tide, 
 With zephyr's balm and sunshine richly spread ; 
 
 Than had touched the walls and shipping of an old Lake Erie port. 
 And far and wide its smile benignly shed. 
 
 A blue more softly tinted, wide arching cloudless space 
 
 On famed Italian sky was never seen; 
 And the amethystine shimmer of waters everywhere. 
 
 Commingled glints of mid October sheen. 
 
 Light-hearted were the sailors of that old Lake Erie port, 
 
 As with song and jest and rn.rry repartee, 
 They hastened with their duties and ready made their craft 
 
 For cruising late the treacherous inland sea. 
 
 For fair winds hoped the skipper, to speed his onward trip. 
 And for luck to Autumn commerce on the wave; 
 
 While with Bible 'neath his pillow, and horseshoe on the wall, 
 To his bunk turned in the sailor bluff and brave. 
 
 But morning broke dolorous, with dull and vapid stare, 
 And clouds that draped the sky with sable pall; 
 
 The smoke lay low and heavy, and sails hung limp and gray, 
 And a melancholy gloom was over all. 
 
 And yet, with early dawning, to life the harbor woke. 
 And sound of straining windlass then was heard ; 
 With creak of blocks and tackle, and shriek of fishing tugs, 
 . 'Till with enterprise the waking river stirred. 
 
 Then slowly down the harbor, passed vessels large and small, 
 
 And on their sep'rate courses soon were bound ; 
 Some to the straits and rivers, some to points beyond. 
 
 With sailboats for the nearer fishing grounds. 
 
mmm 
 
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 374 
 
 WRECK OF THE ''DEAN RICHMOND:' 
 
 STR. "DEAN RICHMOND" 
 
 But in all the fleet of vessels thut sailed away from port, 
 None stronger ribbed, or staunclier built appeared 
 
 Than the queenly craft "Dean Richmond," as down the bay she 
 swept, 
 And to eastward over Erie boldly steered. 
 
 A braver, better seaman, deck of steamer never trod, 
 Than her master, gallant Stoddard oft had proved; 
 
 And too hardy and too fearless were his crew of stalwart men, 
 By any threatened danger to be moved! 
 
 And though the clouds hung heavy, and rain beat drearily. 
 
 And the waters had a dark and sullen leer; 
 No dread of pending evil came to loved ones left behind, 
 
 As they saw her round the head-lands disappear 
 
 But at :r.idnight from its caverns the hurricane awoke, 
 
 And with?U the sinister legions of the air, 
 Wide swept the face of Erie, and with wild and savage glee, 
 
 Encompassed hopeless vessels cruising there. 
 
 Ah, the Bible neath his pillow, or horseshoe on the wall, 
 
 Evil luck to charm away would not avail; 
 For wreckage and disaster menaced the sailor lad. 
 
 And death in awful triumph rode the gale. 
 
 And by the Maumee river, night sleepers were aroused, 
 By the rush and roar of tempest sweeping past; 
 
 But for the craft "Dean Richmond," all contidence had they 
 I n her prowess to outride the shrieking blast. 
 
WRECK OF THE -DEAN RICHMOND:^ 375 
 
 But rut upon the waters in the dark and starless night, 
 
 The deadly cyclone held her in his clutch; 
 His breath-a withering terror; insane his revelry, 
 
 And her strong heart quailed and quivered at his touch. 
 
 "Last seen"-the staunch "Dean Richmond" tossed in a yeast of 
 waves, ' 
 
 Her chimneys gone, her decks swept by the sea 
 But powerless to aid, the half wrecked vessel proved, 
 That struggled past to seek some friendly lee. 
 
 "Lost with all hands" -the steamer, down to a black abyss, 
 Plunged in the storm and darkness with her crew 
 
 "None left the tale to tell" -the closing tragic scene 
 Forceful and real ; its actors only knew * 
 
 Now by the Maumee river, in the old Lake Erie port 
 Wives and children, mothers, sisters sadly mourn 
 
 The unreturning steamer, and in waxen wreaths entwine 
 Amaranthus for the dear ones from them torn 
 
i 
 
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 1 
 
 r :■ 
 
 I ! 
 
 M 
 
 AN OLD STEAMER'S FAREWELL 
 
 From early spring until late autumn, year by year, 
 for over a quarter of a century, the good steamer had 
 followed the blue stretch of Erie that lay between 
 island and mainland and threaded the intricate channel 
 passages by treacherous reefs and outlying shoals. 
 The broadside of many a nor'easter had she en- 
 countered. Through fogs and sheeted snow she had 
 crept and cautiously felt her way over shallows when the 
 wind blew down the lake and the water was low. On 
 nights when the weather was thick, and darkness im- 
 penetrable lay upon lake and land; when Boreas mar- 
 shalled his trumpeters and the meeting currents of 
 Marblehead drove upwards the water into towering 
 pyramids of foam, the staunch craft bared her breast 
 to the storm and steamed blithely homeward. 
 
 Though chopping seas wrenched her timbers, and 
 onsetting billows struck with a shock that sent furni- 
 ture and merchandise spinning through her cabins and 
 waves rushing across her decks — guided by the friendly 
 lighthouse beacon — she made her island port in safety, 
 with never a mishap through all these years of hazar- 
 dous adventure. 
 
 Upon her prowess and capacity depended the mara- 
 time inhabitants of the archipelago. For more than a 
 quarter of a century the island folk had paced her 
 
//A' OLD STEA.\rER\S FAREWELE, 
 
 377 
 
 " decks. Wee toddlers and children in arms — when 
 they took their initial ride — had now become strong 
 
 men and mature women; and young men and maidens, 
 
 when tirsl they walked her gang plank, were now old 
 
 men and matrons with frosted hair and stooping forms. 
 
 Faithful to every trust was the brave steamer, ar- 
 , riving and departing day by day Nvith interruptions 
 few. Carrying mainland generous fruits of the soil 
 and products of the fisheries and returning wiih goods, 
 merchandise and supplies of every kind, suitcnl to the 
 wants of island dwellers. 
 
 Letters and messages she brought from absent 
 friends and new^s from the great world beyond. Even 
 the caskets in which the dead were laid formed from 
 time to time a portion of lier cargo, likewise the marble 
 headstones and chiselled granites which mark their 
 resting places in the island burial ground. 
 
 Wedding and funeral parties the steamer's decks 
 have trodden. Many a happy greeting, many a part- 
 ing tear has she witnessed and many a thrilling episode 
 from life's histories might she relate were she gifted 
 with speech. 
 
 The preponderance of human joy, of grief, of 
 pleasure and of pain which she had borne, seemed in- 
 deed to have permeated her until she appeared a 
 thing of human instinct, a sentient being, a creature 
 of feeling and fancy. On holidays when decked with 
 bright flags that whipped the breeze, she seemed 
 the personification of gaiety, accenting her mood 
 by jocular salutes to sister steamers that passed, 
 and to camps and crowds alo.ig shore. 
 
.",18 
 
 AN OLD STEAAfER'S FA /JEWELL. 
 
 In times of National calamity and mourning when 
 her half masted fla^^s drooped limply to the deck, she 
 assumed an air of sar^ness, and her whistle expressed 
 volumes of pathos, as if she felt the general woe and 
 her great heart of fire and steel beat sympathetic with 
 that of humanity. 
 
 All this, however, is now in the past, with faded 
 memories, and other dead things. Grown old with 
 years and service has the faithful steamer. She 
 has shipped her last excursion, carried her last 
 coffin. She has rounded for the last time the outreach- 
 ing sands of Cedar Point and the lights of iMarble- 
 head. For the last time she has threaded the channels 
 by treacherous reef and rock ribbed shore to the 
 quiet bay. 
 
 When spring returns, and the robins, a new craft of 
 modern build will take her route, and so the old steam- 
 er is to be dismantled.- She will return to the port 
 from whence she sailed young and strong a quarter of 
 a century ago, to come again no more. 
 
 How inexpressibly sad are ihejinales of life's ex- 
 periences, and so while the old steamer whistles "off 
 lines," and passes forever from her accustomed moor- 
 ings, and the crowd on shore wave parting salutes — 
 tears which cannot be repressed dim the vision. 
 
 "Farewell, farewell" — all the whistles on lake, and 
 land ring out the sad refrain. A parting salute to each 
 and to all she returns; and echo takes up her last and 
 longest whistle, prolonging the sound until it reverber- 
 ates like that of a tolling bell — "Farewell, farewell !" 
 
^A' OLD STEAMER'S FAREWELL, 
 
 379 
 
 We watch her recedln^r hull as the red sun il- 
 lumines her westward track; then swerving to North- 
 ward, she passes beyond the wooded angle of the 
 shore —and is gone. 
 
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