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BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME
OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT
FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY
HENRY WILLIAMS SAGEBAKER & SCRIBNER
HAVE RECENTLY PUBLISHED
THE FOLLOWING
VALUABLE AND POPULAR BOOKS.
THE COMPLETE WORKS OF REV. J. M. MASON, D.D*
Edited by his son, Rev. Ebenezer Mason, D.D.,
4 vols. 8vo. With a portrait..............$6 50
THE BORDER WARFARE OF NEW YORK DURING THE
REVOLUTION,—or The Annals of Tryon County.
By William W. Campbell, 1 vol. 12mo.	...	1 00
living orators IN America. By E. L. Magoon,
author of “ Orators of the American Revolution,” 1
vol. 12mo. With Portraits. A work embracing
Biographical Sketches of such men as Webster,
Clay, Everett, Benton, Preston, McDuffie, Calhoun,
Corwin, &c., with an analysis of their powers of
Eloquence, with copious extracts from their great-
est speeches. ............................1 25
THE ADIRONDACK, or LlFE IN THE WOODS. By J. T.
Headley, with original designs by Gignoux, Du-
rande, Ingham, and Hill—engraved by Burt, 1 vol.
12mo. . .	. . i.......................... 1 25Baker fy Scribner's Valuable and Popular Books.
RURAL LETTERS; and other Records ot Thoughts at
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“ Open Air Musings in the City,” “ Invalid Ram-
ble in Germany,” Letters from Watering Places,”
&c., &c., 1 vol. 12mo. This volume, together
with much interesting matter never published in
Mr. Willis’ works, contains the choicest selection
from his previous writings....................1 25
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF DE WITT CLINTON. By
Hon. W. Campbell, 1 vol. 8vo. and 12mo. With
Portrait......................................
•
HERE A LITTLE AND THERE A LITTLE-or Scripture
Facts. By the author of “ Peep of Day,” Line
upon Line,” and “ Precept upon Precept,” 1 vol.
18mo. Illustrated............................. 50
HOLIDAYS ABROAD; or Europe from the West. By
Mrs. C. M. Kirkland, 2 vols. 12mo. (to be publish-
ed 1st May.) ......................................
GREYSLAER-A Romance of the Mohawk. By C.
F. Hoffman, 1 vol. 12 mo., 4th edition..1 25^titironirark.THE
DIRONDACK;
OR
Cifi' in tljf t-tiunk
BY
J. T. HEADLEY,
AUTHOR OF “ WASHINGTON AND HIS GENERALS,7’ ETC.
NEW YORK:
BAKER AND SCRIBNER,
145 NASSAU STREET AND 36 PARK ROW.
1849.Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by
J. T. HEAD LEY,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern
District of New York.
C. W. BENEDICT, Stereotyper,
201 William street, cor. of Frankfort.My Dear Raymond:
Though you failed to accompany
me in my trip to the Adirondack Region, yet I often
thought of you in my long marches and lonely bivouacks.
Filling at that time a large place in my memory, and
always a much larger one in my heart, permit me to in-
scribe these letters to you as a token of my regard and
esteem.
Very sincerely and truly yours,
J. T. HEADLEY.
New Yore, March 31, 1849.LIST OF PLATES.
I.	Distant View of the Adirondack,			FACING - TITLE
II.	Lake Sanford, ....	- - Ingham,	- 49
HI.	Lake Colden, -	Ingham, -	- 55
IV.	Adirondack Pass,	Ingham,	- 69
V.	Lake Henderson, ...	Gignoux,	95
VI.	View on Forked Lake,		
YU.	Raquette Lake, *	Hill,	- 201
VIII.	Lake Schroon. -	Durande,	- 265CONTENTS.
I.
Up the Hudson—In the Woods—Trout Fishing—A Queer Fish, ...	18
II.
Dandy tamed Farmer—Trout Fishing, &c_Christening a Bam, .	.	20
III.
“ Driving Trees”—Benighted in the Woods,......................28
IV.
A River in the Forest—Life—“ Driving the River,”..............86
v.
Forestward—Dinner Scene—Preparations to ascend Mount Tahawus,	.	44
VI.
Ascent of Mount Tahawus—A Man Shot—A Hard Tramp—Glorious Pros-
pect—A Camp Scene,  ................................... 63
VII.
Sagacity of the Hound—The Indian Pass—Precipice Two Thousand Feet
High,
67CONTENTS.
VIII.
The Hunter Cheney—Encounters with a Panther—Deadly Struggle with a
Wolf—A Bear and Moose Fight—Shoots Himself,.............75
IX.
Game—Moose—Crusting Moose—A Catamount—Chase between a Deer and
a Panther—A Bear caught in a Trap,......................85
x.
Lake Henderson—A July Day—A Sunset, and Evening Reverie,	.	.	94
XI.
Tahawus with the Clouds below it—A Hard Tramp—A Plank Bed on the
Boreas River—A Sorry Company Travelling after Breakfast,	.	.	99
XII.
A Thunder Storm—A Solution of Life,............................106
XIII.
A Ride through the Forest—A Lean Dinner—Cheney’s Cousin—Swimming
A Lake with Horses,....................................112
XIV.
Camping Ground—Mitchel the Indian Guide—Trout fishing on a Large
Scale—Night............................................121
XV.
A Camp Scene in the Morning—A Shot at an Eagle—A Deer Chase, .	.	131
XVI.
A Magnificent Prospect—Fourteen Hours without Food, ....	143
XVII.
Long Lake—A Fearful Night—A Gale in the Woods—Man Bitten by a
Rabbit,................................................161CONTENTS.
XVIII.
Trouting—A Duck protecting her Young by Stratagem—Sabbath in the
Forest, ...	.	......................160
XIX.
Long Lake Colony—A Loon—Forked Lake,..............................169
XX.
Shooting a Deer—Modern Sentimentalists—The Influence of Nature, .	.	176
XXI.
Floating Deer—A Night Excursion—Morning in the Woods, .	.	.	184
XXII.
Forest Music,.....................................................194
XXIII.
Raquette Lake—Number of its Trout—A Hunter’s Love for an Eagle—
Fierce Struggle between an Eagle and a Salmon,.......201
XXIV.
Description of Raquette Lake—Abundance of its Fish—Lake Eldon—Its
Queer Discovery—A Man whipped by an Eagle—A Hunter without
Feet,...................................................212
XXV.
Sights and Sounds—Beach and Woods—A Visit of Thirty Miles made by a
Woman,...............................................227
XXVI.
Moose Lakes—“ Murderer’s Point ”—A Grave in the Forest—Trouting—A
Family of Thirteen Girls—Riding “Bare Back”—A Curious Horse
Race,...................................................234
XXVII.
Lost in the Woods—An Old Indian and his Daughter—Farewell to Mitchell—
Musquitoes and Black Flies,..........................246CONTENTS
XXVIII.
Schroon Lake—A Nut for Sportsmen—Woods on Fire,...355
XXIX.
Lumbermen—A Student and Hunter outwitted by a Professor—A Philosophi-
cal Husband—A Prospective Widow looking out for her own interest,	264
XXX.
Odds and Ends—Trial of a Thief in the Backwoods—New Mode of Report-
ing an Election—Paradox Lake—Yon Raumer and his Statements, .	272
XXXI.
Autumn a Painter—Manner of Working,...............280
XXXII.
Directions to the Traveler,
286PREFACE.
The letters in this volume embrace two different sum-
mers which I spent in the forest. An attack on the brain
first drove me from the haunts of men to seek mental
repose and physical strength in the woods. The deci-
sion of an able physician, which was that I “ must go
where a printed page could not meet my eye, and I should
be forced to take constant exercise in the open air, or
--------------” impelled me to undertake at first what
two years after I prosecuted with pleasure.
Thus much for the reasons which first induced me to
penetrate the pathless and unknown wilderness of central
New York.
I publish the results of my two trips, because I wish
to make that portion of our State better known; for it
bears the same relation to us that the Highlands do to
Scotland, and the Oberland to Switzerland. That rela-11
PREFACE.
tion will be acknowledged yet, and every summer will
witness throngs of travelers on their way to those wild
mountains, and surpassingly beautiful lakes. No such
scenery is to be found in our picturesque country, and none,
that in my opinion, will match it this side of the Alps. De-
scriptions cannot, of course, give an adequate idea of it, as
Prof. Emmons, in his work embraced in the great Geologi-
cal Report of the State says :
“It is not, however, by description that the scenery of
this region can be made to pass before the eye of the imagi-
nation ; it must be witnessed, the solitary summits in the
distance, the cedars and firs which clothe the rocks and
shores must be seen; the solitude must be felt or if it is
broken by the scream of the panther, the shrill cry of the
northern diver, or the shout of the hunter; the echo from
the thousand hills must be heard before all the truth in the
scene can be realized.”
After such a glowing description emboded in our State
Reports, I think there is little danger that anything I shall
say will be considered as exaggerated.
Some may object to the want of gravity, or as others will
term it, “ dignity,” in these letters. All that I can say, is,
they are a faithful transcript of my feelings and experience,
and hence the fault if it be one, has no remedy but in
dishonesty.
In the woods, the mask that society compels one to wearPREFACE.
Ill
is cast aside, and the restraints which the thousand eyes
and reckless tongues about him fasten on the heart, are
thrown off, and the soul rejoices in its liberty and again be-
comes a child in action. The ludicrous incident, the care-
less joke, the thrilling story, the eager chase, are all in
place in the forest, and as harmless as the sports of the
deer.
I hate hypocrisy in an author—writing not as he feels
but as he knows bigoted or narrow-minded men think he
ought to feel—moralizing on paper where he never thought
of it in fact, and giving us theological disquisitions on doc-
trinal points
“ When the bosom is full and the thoughts are high,”
With the floods of excitement and rapture which some won-
drous and glorious spectacle has awakened. Nature and the
Bible are in harmony—they both speak one language to the
heart—yet in the wilderness there is no formality in the ex-
pression of one’s feelings. A man
“ Laughs when he’s merry,
And sighs when he’s sad,”
without thinking or caring how it would appear in the
saloon or grave assemblage.
The engravings are from original drawings by the dis-
tinguished artists Messrs. Ingham, Durand, Gignoux, andIV
PREFACE.
Hill of Vermont, to whom I feel deeply indebted for their
kindness. These give a value to the work I could not
otherwise claim for it.
I am sorry that I could get no sketches of some of the
romantic and beautiful scenery of the more central regions
but no artist has ever yet ventured into them. At some
future day there will be a collection of those views made,
which will not be surpassed in beauty by any in Europe.
The Moose Lakes described in one of the letters, I have
never seen, but a friend of mine, who has once been through
the wilderness with me, furnished the material, and for the
sake of uniformity, I used it as my own.GENERAL DESCRIPTION OP THE COUNTRY.
To give the reader some idea of the central portion of
New York, in which the scenes of this work are laid, and
through which I traveled; and that he may not regard
it mere child’s play to penetrate it, I would say that
across it either way is about the distance from New York
to Albany—varying from a hundred to a hundred and fifty
miles. It is the same as if the whole country from New
York to Albany, and extending, also, fifty miles each side
of the Hudson, was an unbroken wilderness, crossed by no
road, enlivened by no cultivation, not a keel disturbing its
waters, while bears, panthers, wolves, moose and deer
were the only lords of the soil.
Imagine such a tract of country, about the size of Massa-
chusetts and Connecticut put together, most of which lies a
neglected waste, through which you must make your way
with the compass, sustained by what your own skill can
secure, and you will obtain a faint conception of the Adiron-
dack region. And yet, you will hardly get a correct one,VI
GENERAL DESCRIPTION.
because. there would not enter into it the gloomy gorges
and savage mountains that everywhere roll it into disorder.
I shall furnish, however, the best description, by giving an
extract from a letter of Professor Farrand N. Benedict, of
Vermont University, whose able report in the Geological
Work of our State, and reports, also, to the Senate, on the
capabilities of this section for slack water navigation, have
been -of equal service to science and to the practical man.
In a letter to me, which the reader will acknowledge to
be written with singular clearness and beauty, he says :
“ The northern section of New York, embracing the
county of Hamilton, and the most of the counties of Essex,
Clinton, Franklin, St. Lawrence, Herkimer, Lewis, War-
ren, and Fulton, has hitherto resisted the march of improve-
ment, and still remains, with a few solitary exceptions, an
unsubdued forest. Until recently, little has been known of
its physical resources, and of its adaptedness to the wants of
man in his civilized state. Regarded as an unproductive
waste, it has left the vague and transient impression on the
mind that it answered well enough, the only purpose of its
existence, to constitute a barrier between the Mohawk and
St. Lawrence Rivers, and to prevent the waters of Lake
Ontario from carrying desolation with them into the valley
of Champlain. It seems until lately to have failed to
awaken that interest in its behalf, to which it is justly en-GENERAL DESCRIPTION.	VII
titled, in view of the recent developments of its mineral,
and even of its agricultural capabilities.
This section of country, which is frequently denominated
the Plateau of Northern New York, is washed at its wes-
tern base by the Black River and Lake Ontario—at its
northwestern by the St. Lawrence-—at its eastern by Lake
Champlain—and at its southern by the Mohawk River.
Settlements and civilization have advanced from five to
twenty-five miles up the valleys and slopes of this elevated
table, where they are met by the nearly uninterrupted wil-
derness of the. interior. . The general surface of this region
as indicated by the lakes and streams, and in many in-
stances, especially in the western part, of the extensive val-
leys which they drain, is nearly a horizontal plane, with a
medium elevation above tide of 1700 feet. This elevated
surface4is attained by a rapid ascent from its base, in a dis-
tance of some ten or twenty miles, except where the grade
is occasionally reduced, and the distance proportionably in-
creased by. valleys and streams. The slope is the most
rapid from the Black River and Lake Champlain, declining
more gently to the Mohawk, and still more so towards the
St. Lawrence and the low country of Canada.
. “ This table is divided transversely into two nearly equal
portions by a broad valley of variable width, which meets
the shores of Lake Champlain at Plattsburgh. The valleyVIII
GENERAL DESCRIPTION.
extends in a southwesterly direction up the Saranac River
to the beautiful cluster of lakes of that name—thence with
no intervening ridge it passes up the Raquette River,
through Long and Raquette Lakes; and thence in the
same general direction, and with no opposing barrier, down
the Moose River and its chain of picturesque lakes, and
terminates in Oneida County, near Boonville. This valley
is remarkable for its extent—being about 150 miles in
length—for its nearly uniform direction, although it is
formed by the basins of three different systems of waters—
for the productiveness of its soil in the upper sections of its
course—and especially for its almost unparalleled line of
natural navigation.
“ The western portion of the table, or rather that which
is situated west of this valley, presents a varied and pic-
turesque, though not a mountainous surface. The Adiron-
dack Mountains are seen towards the east, with their bare
and rocky summit, dim in the distance, projecting their
spurs clothed with black forests to the shores of this central
line of waters. Proceeding westwardly from this line, the
physical aspect of the country undergoes a marked and im-
mediate change. The mountains are reduced to hills of
moderate elevations; and, instead of being covered with
rugged and sterile peaks, their rounded summits display a
luxuriant growth of valuable timber. They appear to be
disposed without much conformity to any general system ofGENERAL DESCRIPTION.
IX
arrangement. They are frequently solitary ; and whenever
they can aggregate in groups or clusters, their positions are
determined by the local arrangements of the neighboring
waters. Between the lakes, or rather ponds, of this uni-
form section, which are disseminated in singular precision
over the whole plateau, the surface rises gently from the
shores into swells of arable land, excepting the southern de-
clivities which are often abrupt and precipitous.
The eastern part of the plateau, embracing a tract of
country about 50 miles wide and 140 miles in length, and
terminated by the Paquette Valley on the west, is decidedly
Alpine in its physical aspect. Its apparently confused wil-
derness of mountains is found, on close examination, to be
disposed in ranges nearly parallel to the valley above men-
tioned. These terminate in successive bold and rocky
promontories on the western shore of Lake Champlain.
The chains increase in elevation as they approach the inte-
rior, until they attain their greatest altitude and grandeur
in the most western one of the series. This has a northern
termination at Trembleau Point, and thrusts its southern
extremity into the bed of the Mohawk at Little Falls. It
consists of an extended aggregation of mountain masses,
resting on bases that are elevated nearly 2000 feet above
tide. Many of these throw their bare and pointed summits
of rock to the perpendicular altitude of about a mile above
the surface of the ocean. The vastness of their elevations,
1*X	GENERAL DESCRIPTION.
the almost endless variety of their forms, their confused and
disorderly arrangement, and the deep forests that are inter-
rupted only by the lakes at their bases and the rocks and
snows of their summits, invest the eastern half of the table
with unrivalled solitude and sublimity.”
This vast mountain chain rises and sinks along the hori-
zon in such colossal proportions that one imagines himself
in the Alps. The highest peak of the Catskill is only three
thousand and some hundred feet in height, yet here are
summits rising out of the bosom of forests nearly twice its
altitude. Mount Tahawus is over a mile high, while
Whiteface, Nipple Top, Mount Seward, Santenoni, Dix’s
Peak, Mount McMartin and Mount McIntyre, rise each
five thousand feet into the heavens. Shall I mention Owl’s
Head, Mount Emmons, Schroon Mountains, North River
and Boreas Mountains, three thousand feet high; or Bald
Peak and Raven Hill, and a host of others two thousand feet
and upwards ? Why, the Catskill range, majestic as it is,
is a dwarf beside these gigantic mountains. From the top
of one of them, you see for nearly four hundred miles in cir-
cumference. To wander among them is the hardest toil
that a forest life presents. Without roads, your only re-
liance the guide and compass, you are compelled to wade
streams, cross marshes, and climb over vast tracts of
fallen timber, and at last, when night comes on, pull your
own couch from the fir trees around. If it were not thatGENERAL DESCRIPTION.
XI
a chain of lakes extends the entire length of this wilderness,
cutting it in two, it would be impenetrable. Along these
sheets of water—from one to another, and around rapids
and cataracts, the adventurer rows his boat or carries it on
his head. I have made this statement that one may see at
the outset to what kind of a region I wish to introduce
him.UP THE HUDSON-----IN THE WOODS----TROUT FISHING---A
QUEER FISH.
Backwoods, June 23.
Dear H------:
The steam is up—the pipes are spitting forth in
furious disgust volumes of vapor—the last bell is ring-
ing, and amid the clatter of carriages, the shouts of
men and clouds of steam, we are off to the centre of
the Hudson, and, stretching away, like a gallant steed,
rapidly divide the water northward.
As I stand on the deck and think of the broad, deep
forest and its rushing streams, a feeling of freedom
steals over me, I have been a stranger to, for months.
The chains of conventional life begin to fall off, link
after link, and I fancy I feel my blood take a new
spring already. This chasing after health, though, is
a discouraging business. To spend half of one’s life14
THE ADIRONDACK.
in keeping the other half from going out, is not, I am
convinced, the chief end of man—still, it must some-
times be done, and then the pathless woods, the
long and steady stretch up the mountain side and
the coarse fare, are better than all the “ poppies and
mandrigoras” of the world to “medicine” not only
the body but the mind. Your Saratoga water and
Nahant bathing and Rockaway dinner tables will do,
perhaps, for healthy men, cripples and women. But
for the reduced system that needs tone and manliness
given it, strong physical exercise is demanded.
I passed through Saratoga Springs without stop-
ping even to dine, but compensated for the neglect
over some trout at Grlen’s Falls. Arriving at Lake
George just before sunset, I engaged a man to carry
me on, some twenty miles farther that evening. We
halted a few moments at twilight at a lonely tavern
on an elevated ridge, made still more desolate by
the self murder of the proprietor, the year before,
over whose grave a whip-poor-will was pouring its
shrill and rapid note. Soon after, we began to enter
the Spruce Mountain, where, for miles, not even a hut
appears to cheer the sight. In the meantime, the sky
became overcast, and night came down black andA NIGHT JOURNEY.
15
threatening. The darkness at length grew so impene-
trable that we could not see the horses, nor even the
wagon in which we rode. Up long hills, and down
into deep gulfs, with the invisible branches sweeping
our faces at almost every step, we traveled on, seeing
nothing but utter blackness, and not knowing but the
next moment we should stumble over a precipice, or
be tumbled down the slope of a “ dugway.” My driver,
in the meantime, got excessively nervous—he had
never traveled the road before, and this feeling his
way, or rather allowing his horses to feel it without
venturing the least control over their movements,
seemed to him not the safest mode of procedure, and
so after muttering awhile to himself various rather
forcible expressions, he stopped and got out. Going
to the heads of the horses he commenced leading them.
I supposed at first that something was the matter with
the harness, and said nothing; but soon finding my-
self moving on in the darkness, I called out to know
what he was doing. “ I’m afraid,” he replied, “ to
ride, it is so dark, and I’m going to lead my horses.”
Just then, there came a bright flash of lightning, re-
vealing the still and boundless forest on every side,
and throwing into momentary, but bold relief, shivered16
THE ADIRONDACK.
trunks and blackened stumps, and last though not least
important, the horses, with my driver at their head.
An instantaneous and utter blackness followed—fall-
ing on everything like a mighty pall—and then came
the sullen thunder, swelling gradually from the low
growl into the deep vibrating peal that shook the hills.
It was my turn to feel nervous now, and the idea of
walking out a thunder-storm at midnight, in these
mountains, was not to be entertained a moment.
Unfortunately, I can bear the worst fate better than
suspense; so calling out in a tone not to be mis-
taken, I said, “ come, get in and drive on, and
drive fast, too—if we break down, we will bivouack
the rest of the night under the wagon, but as for
going at this snail’s pace, and a thunder storm gather-
ing over our heads, I will not permit it.” With a grunt
at my rashness, he clambered in and started on.
“ Come,” said I, “ whip up, neck or nothing, I
can’t stand this.” (retting into a smart trot, we
passed rapidly along, expecting every moment to
feel the shock that should stop us for the nighty
or find ourselves describing the arc of a circle,
down some declivity, the bottom of which, we
could only speculate upon. Ever and anon cameFIRE FLIES.
17
the sudden lightning, rending the gloom, succeeded
by the rolling, rattling thunder-peal, that made the
horses jump, not to mention our own pulsations.
Brushed every few steps by an overhanging branch,
as if struck by a mysterious hand, we kept resolutely
on—the good horses picking their way like Alpine
mules, and the road proving itself to be far better
than our fears.
At length, just as the heavy drops began to fall, we
emerged into a little valley, in which nestled a rude
village, the meadows of which seemed to be one mass
of phosphorescence. The fire flies hung in countless
numbers over the surface, forming almost a solid body
of light. The effect was indescribable; all around
was Egyptian darkness, except that single level spot
on which the incessant flashes made a constant, yet
ever tremulous light. At first, it seemed an illusion,
so fluctuating and confused did everything appear;
but as the eye, aided by the judgment, got accus-
tomed to the scene, it became a beautiful creation,
made on purpose to cheer the night and lessen the
gloom that overhung the world.
All! how delicious it is after such a ride to stand
under a roof and hear the big drops dashing against18
THE ADIRONDACK.
the windows and sides of the house, and the thunder
pealing harmlessly without; you laugh at the ele-
ments which you had feared, and feel as if you had
baffled an enemy whose ravings now were impotent
and foolish. The rudest room is then pleasant, and
the hardest bed soft as down. A delightful calm
succeeds the turbulence of feeling, and you are at
peace with all the world.
T will not weary you with an account of my next
morning’s ride, nor of the thorough drenching I
received.
Arriving at a clearing, I had hardly swallowed some
dinner before I donned my India-rubber leggings and
plunged into a splendid stream near by, after trout.
The very first cast I made, I took one, and kept
taking them, till, at the end of two hours, I had fifty
fine fellows. The best one of all, however, I lost. I
had approached with great caution a noble pool, made
by a rapid current that shot along a ledge of rocks,
then spread out into an open basin. Seating myself
carefully on a narrow shelf, I threw my fly, and
moving it slowly in an oblique direction across the
stream, soon saw a great fellow rise to the surface.
In a twinkling, he was hooked ; but just at thatTROUT FISHING.
19
moment I heard a tremendous splashing in the water
above me, accompanied by something halfway be-
tween a grunt and a groan. I was startled, and
turning my eyes in the direction of the tumult, saw
my companion floundering in the water. "With a
short crooked pole, he had been endeavoring to mount
a smooth, slippery rock and cast his cord-line into a
hole where it looked as if trout might lurk. Just as he
was fetching back his rod with a tremendous swing, his
foot slipped and over he rolled into the swift current,
making the splashing that had startled me so. His
hat was off and his long hair streamed over his face,
as now up and now down he struggled to steady his
uncertain footing. At length, he brought up against
a rock, and “ thunder and lightning,” were the first
words that escaped his lips, as he looked around to
determine his whereabouts. He was a capital subject
for a picture, as he thus stood, bareheaded, hanging
on the rock, and muttering to himself. Between the
fright and the laugh, I lost my trout, but I have made
my mark on him and will have him yet.II.
DANDY TURNED FARMER--------TROUT FISHING, &C.----CHRIS-
TENING A BARN.
Dear H----
Backwoods, June 28.
There is not a wilder region in our country than
the northern parts of Warren and Hamilton Counties.
An almost unbroken wilderness stretches away from
the Adirondack Mountains, from a hundred to a hun-
dred and fifty miles across. Imagine such a wilder-
ness in the heart of New York State, in which you
may wander month after month without stumbling on
a clearing. There are places in it never yet trod by
the foot of a white man. It is not merely an unculti-
vated country, but a succession of ragged mountains,
darkened with pine and hemlock—ploughed up with
ravines and rendered barren by rocks and swamps.
An over-wrought brain has driven me into these soli-
tudes for rest and quiet—my only companions beingA CLEARING.
21
my rifle and fishing rod. We talk in New York of
going into the “ country.” But let Saratoga be ex-
changed for “Long Lake,” Nahant for “Indian
Lake,” and New Rochelle for the gloomy shore of
Jesup’s River, and our fashionables would get an
entirely different idea of the “ country.” True, it is
lonely at first—after being accustomed to the din and
struggle of Broadway and Wall street to sit as I now
do, with a wide forest, climbing the steep mountains,
to bound my vision, and the little clearing around me
black with stumps, coming up even to the door of the
log house. All day long, and not the sound of a single
wheel, but in the place of it the cawing of crows, the
scream of the woodpecker, and the roar of a torrent
dashing over the rocks in the sullen forest below.
The very stumps have a forlorn look, and it seems a
complete waste of time and music for the birds to
sing, having no one to listen to them. It must be they
do it to hear the echo of their own voices, which these
wild woods send back with incredible distinctness and
sweetness. But if one is not entirely spoiled, he soon
attunes himself to the harmony of nature, and a new
life is born within him. To most of us, life has—as
the Germans would say, an “ Einseitigkeit,” (a one-99
THE ADIRONDACK.
sidedness). The “ Fielseitgkeit,” (the many-sided-
ness) few experience. Ah, it is this “ Einseitigkeit,”
that renders all reform so difficult; and bigotry and
prejudice so irresistible. Men must experience the
“ Fielseitgkeit,” to know it, but circumstances chain
them to the “ one-sided” view, and so we go stumb-
ling on in the old paths, or like an old mill horse round
and round in the same circle, stereotyping anew the
groans and complaints of our fathers. Here a man
will toil for forty years and die poor, while in the city
a successful speculation often ensures a life of idleness
and luxury. Industry then is not always the sure
road to wealth.
But I will not weary you with an essay on social life,
I will only say that it is a poor argument which meets
our complaints, from the pulpit and press, viz.,
“ After all, happiness is about equally divided.” This
maxim is believed, because it is the converse of a true
proposition, which is, 66 one man is about as miserable
as another.” That is, the laws of Nature and Heaven
are such that he who accumulates to live a life of idle-
ness is made as miserable as the man he impoverishes
in order to do it. Thus, it is true, that happiness is
pretty equally divided, because the misery the presentCI-DEVANT DANDY.
23
covetous, grasping spirit works is pretty equally di-
vided.
These thoughts work in me here in the woods as I
lean on my rifle, and look on that sturdy backwoods-
man making the forest ring with his axe as he devotes
himself to a life of toil and ignorance. Ah, our religion
but half performs its work. It simply turns the ivild
animal into a domestic one, but leaves him an animal
still. It does not elevate him, so that the poor can be
intelligent, refined, and spiritual. He is still doomed
to toil, toil, for the mere animal nature. Religion was
designed by its great Author to accomplish more than
this.
My stopping place is at the house of an old friend,
on the frontier of this wild region, who, when I last
knew him, was called a New York dandy. Designed
by his friends for a profession, he broke away from his
studies and entered upon a mercantile life. In the
crash of 1837, he went down with the multitude.
Land, scattered here and there over the country, was
all that was left him to fall back upon, and he resolved
to turn farmer. I could hardly believe my eyes, when
I saw what a rock and mountain farm he was on.
As I came up to the door, he was engaged in filling a24
THE ADIRONDACK.
straw bed for his baby—queer occupation this, for a
ci-devant dandy. The next morning as he drove off to
the woods with his oxen, one would never have dream-
ed he had once sauntered up and down Broadway.
His wife, a refined and intelligent woman, at first sunk
under this change, hut rallying her good sense, she has
adapted herself to her situation, and now makes butter,
&c., like a good house-wife. My friend seemed happy,
but I thought it must be assumed, and so I asked him
how this compared with New York. “ I am happier
here,” he replied, “ I prefer this life to that of the city.”
The delicate young merchant is spreading into the
broad-shouldered working man. I confess I admired
him, and the second day I told him I would help him
work, if on the succeeding one he would play with me.
He agreed to this arrangement, and so I doffed my
coat and went into the field with him. My appetite
for the plain dinner was a trifle beyond what is termed
good, and my slumbers that night deep as oblivion.
The next morning I claimed the fulfillment of his
promise, and he shouldered his long limber ash pole
which he had cut from the forest, and peeled to make
it lighter, and we entered the dark hemlock forest that
overhangs the “ trout-brook,” and were soon in theTROUTING.
25
midst of rare sport. By the way, pay no regard to the
list of fancy flies which sportsmen often make so much
ado about. The red and black hackles are the best for
our latitude all seasons of the year. With this short
episode, follow me in fancy, down the stream, packing
the bright spotted trout away into my basket, until wo
come to a dark overhanging precipice. Here the
stream flows in a broad sheet against and under the
mountain, and disappears from sight to appear again far-
ther on. This precipice, shooting at an angle of 45 de-
grees over the current, turning it back on itself, and
forcing it downward, forms a deep, black pool, covered
with the foam-bubbles which circle and dart like live
creatures in the eddies. There, on the very edge of the
eddy, I have cast my fly. It has hardly moved before,
look ! what a noble fellow makes the water foam as he
throws an arch into the air, his white belly gleaming
like a silver arrow as he goes. Snap goes the line, and
he vanishes. Ah, he was a fat one, and that last fling
of his by which he cleared himself, made every nerve
in me tingle.
But I will have his mate. Quickly noosing another
snell, I drag again the deep pool, and there the other
shoots—the beauty, and I have him ; I cannot play
226	THE ADIRONDACK.
him—-the bushes and flood-wood and rocks, are too
thick,—and he flounders like a sturgeon—I must lift
him or lose him. My slender rod almost doubles, and
quivers with the load ; but the good stick holds, and
the fellow is landed. There is absolutely terror in his
great black eye as he lies and pants on the rock. I
can’t help it, my speckled beauty, it’s a world where
we prey on each other. Beside, I have had nothing
but fried pork for three days, and I already gloat in
imagination over your salmon-colored flesh. I have
gone but half a mile, and let us see, I have forty.
That will do for to-day, and we will turn home.
Passing through a clearing on a side-hill, on our way
back, we came upon a barn raising, called here a
“bee,” because all the neighbors are invited to assist.
The rough frame was up, and a man was sitting on
the ridge pole, hallooing, “ Here’s a frame without a
name, and what’ll ye call it ? Here’s a frame without
a name, and what’ll ye call it ? Here’s a frame with-
out a name, and what’ll ye call it ?”—“Side-hill drag”
was shouted back from the sturdy group below. It
was christened with a hurra, and up went two old
drag-frames to the plates where they were left dang-
ling in the air. I could not but smile at this curiousCHRISTENING A BARN.	27
christening, yet the man was as proud of his wit, as
the politician of his toast on some great festive occa-
sion, and had as good reason to be for aught I know.
Yours truly,III.
“ DRIVING TREES”--BENIGHTED IN THE WOODS.
Indian Lake, June 30.
Dear H------:
Did you ever fall a tree ? If not, the experiment is
worth your while—for the consciousness of power it
awakens, and the absolute terror it inspires, as the
noble and towering fabric at length yields to your as-
saults, amply repay the labor. The first stroke into
the huge trunk sends a slight shiver through all the
green top; but as stroke follows stroke, the old king
of the woods seems to despise your puny efforts, and
receives the blows in silent contempt. But as fibre
after fibre is severed, and the heart is at last reached
and pierced, a groan passes up through the lofty stem.
Then comes a cracking, as if the very seat of life was
broken up, and the frightened thing sways and stag-
gers a moment, as if to steady its enormous bulk, thenDRIVING TREES.
29
bows its tall head, in submission, and without another
effort, and with a shock that shakes the hills around,
falls to the ground. There he lies with all his great
arms crushed under him, stretched a lifeless corse
along the earth. His brethren nod and tremble a mo-
ment above him, as if they felt the overthrow, then
all is still again. Thus the other day I brought a
brave old hemlock to the ground, and when I saw the
lofty green mass first begin to sway, and then heard
the snapping and rending of the tough fibres of the
trunk, a feeling of terror stole over me. This a back-
woodsman would doubtless call transcendentalism, if
he knew the meaning of the term, but there is no
transcendentalism in swinging a heavy axe for an hour
to fetch one of these sturdy trees down.
But felling a single tree is a small matter compared
to a process called here “ driving trees” ? Don’t im-
agine a whole “Birnam” forest on the move “ for
Dunsinane,” like a flock of sheep going to market; but
sit down with me here on the side-hill, and look at that
opposite mountain slope. Just above that black fal-
low, or as they call it here u foller,” there, in that
deep grove, five as good choppers as ever swung an
axe, have made the woods ring for the last three30
THE ADIRONDACK.
hours with their steady strokes, and yet not a tree has
fallen. But, look! now one begins to bend—and
hark, crack! crack! crash! crash! a whole forest
seems falling, and a gap is made like the path of a
whirlwind. Those choppers worked both down and
up the hill, cutting each tree half in. two, until they
got twenty or more thus partially severed. They
did not cut at random, but chose each tree with
reference to another. At length a sufficient number
being prepared, they felled one that was certain to
strike a second that was half-severed, and this a third,
and so on, till fifteen or twenty came at once with that
tremendous crash to the ground. Here is labor-sav-
ing without machinery. The process is called “ driv-
ing trees” and it is driving them with a vengeance.
A day or two since I made an engagement with an
Indian to go out at night, deer hunting. We were
sure, he said, of taking one. Having nothing in the
meanwhile to do, and the pure air and bright sky
tempting a stroll in the solemn woods, I shouldered
my rifle and started off. After proceeding about a
mile, thinking of anything but game, I was suddenly
aroused from my reverie by the spring of a deer just
ahead. I looked up, and there, with an arching neckA SHOT.
31
and waving tail, stood a beautiful doe. Quick as
thought she darted away, but when she had gone
about 25 or 30 rods stopped again. At first I could
not see her, for she had halted behind a clump of
bushes; but at length I observed a reddish spot, about
the size of the crown of my cap, between the leaves.
I hesitated to shoot, for I knew it was the broadside,
and one of my small bullets (my rifle carries 83 to the
pound) planted there, might not fetch her down till
she had run ten miles. However, it was my only
chance, so I took a steady aim, and fired. A wild
spring into the open forest told me she was hit, and as
she leaped madly away, the tail she carried a moment
before like a plume, was hugged close to her legs.
Hence I was not surprised when I came to where she
had stood, to find large drops of blood on the leaves.
I took the trail and followed on. It was slow work,
without a dog, and how far I went I know not, but I
did not give it up till the increasing darkness blotted
the traces from my sight. I then turned to go back,
but, alas, had not the slightest idea of the course I
had traveled: and the sun being now down, and the
high trees blotting out everything but a little space of
sky overhead, I was utterly at a loss which way to32
THE ADIRONDACK.
go. I pushed on, however, trusting more to luck
than my own knowledge or sagacity. But night hav-
ing at length come down in earnest, every step was
taken at random. Heavy and disheartened, I sat down
on a log, and (thanks to my Alpine match-box,) soon
struck a light. It was 9 o’clock. Well, thinks I to
myself, it’s only a little over six hours to daylight, and
I may as well stop and wait as to be knocking my
head against these trees without getting any nearer
home, nay, perhaps, farther off. Looking around, I
espied a knoll with a rock on it. Here, kindling a fire
to keep off the musquitoes and black flies that were
devouring me at a rate that would soon leave nothing
for the wolves to lunch on, I sat down and waited for
the leaden hours to wear away. It seems a very
trifling thing when we read about it, to pass a night
in the woods, especially when you know that the
beasts of prey which roam the forest, dare not attack
you—it is a trifling thing to a backwoodsman, but just
try it yourself once. I do not affirm that you will be
frightened; but as Lugarto was accustomed to say, you
will u be nervous.” It was warm, and there was no
danger; neither was I lost, for I knew a walk of an
hour or two in the morning would bring me out, yet IAN UNCOMFORTABLE NIGHT.
33
could not sleep. Bryant says in his Thanatopsis, that
it should be a great comfort to a man in death, to
know that he “ lies down with kings and the powerful
of the earth.” I don’t know how it may affect one
“ in death” but I do know that in vigorous health,
it requires more than the mere reflection that the
“kings and the great ones of the earth” are snoozing
on their couches of down, to make one sleep sweetly
in the solemn woods without a friend near him. If I
felt inclined to doze, the snapping of the fire, or the
stealthy tread of a fox or hedgehog, would startle me
from my disturbed slumbers—and there stood the tall
trees in the fire light, their huge trunks fading away
in the gloom like the columns of some old cathedral
at twilight. Once, I could have sworn I saw a bear,
and was on the point of shooting, but finally concluded
to take a fire-brand in one hand and my rifle in the
other, and go towards it, when lo! it turned out to be
a black stump. I let it sleep on, and went back to my
fire, determined to have a nap. It was all in vain, and
yet I had slept soundly in places where I felt at the
time there was infinitely more danger than here. I
had slept lashed to a bench when the storm was spring-
ing our masts, and the sea falling in thunder on the34	THE ADIRONDACK.
deck of our staggering ship—I had slept amid the
4 4 Alps and Appenines,” nay, worse, in the cabriolet of
a French diligence, beside the yelling conducteur. I ,
had slept on the hard floor, and beside living and dead
men, but I could not sleep here. There was some-
thing so awfully solemn and mysterious in that mighty
forest—in the rustle of the night breeze through the
tops of the hemlocks, and the flutter now and then of
a bird disturbed on its perch, that my heart beat audibly
in my bosom. Just as my nervousness began to be
particularly annoying, there came a flash of lightning,
followed by the low growl of distant thunder. This
was something I had not calculated upon, and I said
to myself, 44 Well, there is a prospect of my trying
Preissnitz’s system now, for there will be cold bathing
in plenty before morning, and my diet is spare enough,
heaven knows, for I haven’t even a red-squirrel to roast
for my supper. I shall be thankful if one of these
rotten hemlocks does not have the rubbing of me
down after my bath.” Just then the blast swept
through the forest like the roar of the sea, and all was
still again. Another flash, and as I live, there stood a
man amid the trees; I waited in breathless suspense
for a second flash, but the tread of feet prevented theA WELCOME VISITOR.
35
necessity, and the next instant the Indian (a civilized
one) whom I had engaged to go deer hunting with me,
approached. The amount of affection I at that mo-
ment entertained for the red-skinned gentleman,
would, I think, satisfy my wife, if I am ever fortunate
enough to have one. He had seen the light of my fire
above the trees, and supposing I was lost came after
me ; and I assure you it was the most profitable short
journey he ever made. It turned out that I was not
two miles from the settler’s house from which I had
started. We reached it about 2 o’clock, and I slept
on my straw bed that night without thinking of “ the
great ones of the earth.”
Yours truly.A RIVER IN THE FOREST-----LIFE--‘‘ DRIVING THE RIVER.”
Backwoods, June 6.
Dear H------:
Did you ever witness a log driving ? It is one of
the curiosities of the backwoods, where streams are
made to subserve the purpose of teams. On the
steep mountain side, and along the shores of the brook
which in spring time becomes a fiery torrent, tearing
madly through the forest, the tall pines and hemlocks
are felled in winter and dragged or rolled to the brink.
Here every man marks his own, as he would his
sheep, and then rolls them in, when the current is
swollen by the rains. The melted snow along the ac-
clivities comes in an unbroken sheet of water down,
and the streams rise as if by magic to the tops of their
banks, and a broad, resistless current goes sweeping
like a live and gloomy thing through the deep forest.A FOREST RIVER.
37
The foam bubbles sparkle on the dark bosom that floats
them on, and past the boughs that bend with the
stream, and by the precipices that frown sternly down
upon the tumult; while the rapid waters shoot onward
like an arrow, or rather a visible spirit on some mys-
terious errand, seeking the loneliest and most fearful
passages the untrodden wild can furnish. I have
seen the waves running like mad creatures in mid
ocean, and watched with strange feelings the moonlit
deep as it gently rose and fell like a human bosom in
the still night; but there is something more mysteri-
ous and fearful than these in the calm yet lightning-
like speed of a deep, dark river, rushing all alone in
its might and majesty through the heart of a vast
forest. You cannot see it till you stand on the brink,
and then it seems utterly regardless of you or the
whole world without, hasting sternly forward to the
accomplishment of some dread purpose.
But such romance as this never enters the heart of
your backwoodsman. The first question he puts him-
self, as he thrusts his head through the branches and
looks up and down the channel, is—“ Is the stream
high enough to run logs ?” If so, then fall to work :
away go the logs, one after another, down the moun-38	THE ADIRONDACK.
tain, and down the bank, with a bound and a groan,
and splash into the water.
The heavy rains about the first of July, had so
swollen the stream near which I am located, that all
thoughts of fishing for several days were abandoned,
and the log drivers had it entirely to themselves. So,
strolling through the forest, I soon heard the continuous
roar that rose up'through the leafy solitudes, and in a
few moments stood on a shelving rock, and saw the
dark, swift stream before me, as it issued from the
cavernous green foliage above, and disappeared with-
out a struggle in the same green abyss below. I
stood for a long time lost in thought. How much
like life was that current in its breathless haste—how
like it, too, in its mysterious appearance and depar-
ture ! It shot on my sight without a token of its birth-
place, and vanished without leaving a sign whither it
had gone. So comes and goes this mysterious life of
ours—this fearful time-stream, sweeping so noiselessly
and steadily forward. And there, where that bubble
dances and swims, now floating calmly though swiftly
along the, surface, and now caught in an eddy, and
whirled in endless gyrations round, and now buffeted
back by the hard rock against whose side it was cast, isTHE LIFE-STREAM.
39
another life symbol. Such am I, and such is every man
—bubbles on the dread time-stream—one moment mov-
ing calmly over the waters of prosperity—-the next,
caught in the eddies of misfortune, till, bewildered and
stunned, we are hurled against the rocks of discourage-
ment. Yet, ever afloat, and ever borne rapidly on, we
are moving from sight, to be swallowed up in that vast
solitude, from whose echoless depths no voice has
ever yet returned. Life, life* how solemn and mys-
terious thou art! I could weep as I lean from this
rock and gaze on the dark, rushing waters—thought
crowds on thought, and sad, memories come sweep-
ing up, and future forebodings mingle in the solemn
gathering, and emotions no one has ever yet ex-
pressed, and feelings that have struggled since time
began, for utterance, swell like that swollen water over
my heart, and make me inconceivably sad here in the
depths of the forest.
How long I might have stood absorbed in this half
dreamy half thoughtful mood, I know not, had I not
heard a shout below me. Passing down, I soon came
to a steep bank, at the base of which several men were
tumbling logs into the stream. I watched them for
some time, and was struck with the coolness with40
THE ADIRONDACK.
which one would stand half under a huge embankment
of logs, and hew away to loosen the whole, while
another with a “ handspike”* kept them back. Once,
after a blow, I saw the entire mass start, when “ Take
care ! take care ! ” burst in such startling tones from
my lips, that the cool chopper sprung as if stung by
an adder; then, with a laugh at his own foolish fright,
stepped back to his place again. The man with the
“ handspike” never even turned his head, but with a
half grunt, as much as to say “ Oreen horn from the
city,” held on. It was really an exciting scene—the
mad leaping away of those huge logs, and their rapid,
arrowy-like movement down the stream. At length I
threw off my coat, and laying my gun aside, also
seized a “handspike,” and was soon behind a log, tug-
ging and lifting away. I was on the top of a high bank,
and when the immense timber gave way, and bounded
with a dull sound from rock to rock, till it struck with
a splash into the very centre of the current, my sud-
den shout followed it. The first plunge took it
out of sight, and when it rose to the surface
again, it stood, for a single moment, perfectly still in its
place, except that it rolled rapidly on its axis—the
* A wooden lever.A COOL DRIVER.”
41
next moment it yielded to the impetuosity of the cur-
rent and darted away as if inherent with life, and
moved straight towards a precipice that frowned over
the water below. Recoiling from the shock, its head
swung off with the current, and away it shot out
of sight.
The stream gets full of these logs, which often catch
on some rock or projecting root, and accumulate till a
hundred or more will be all tangled and matted to-
gether. There they lie rising and falling on the un-
easy current, while a driver slowly and carefully steps
from one to another, feeling with his feet and “ hand-
spike,” to see where the u drag” is. When he finds it,
he loosens, perhaps with a blow, the whole rolling,
tumbling mass, and away it moves. Now look out,
bold driver, thy footing is not of the most certain kind,
and a wild and angry stream is beneath thee. Yet see
how calmly he views the chaos. The least hurry or
alarm and he is lost:—but no, he moves without agi-
tation,—now balancing himself a moment, as the log
he steps upon shoots downward, then quickly passing to
another as that rolls under him, he is gradually work-
ing his way towards the shore. He has almost suc-
ceeded in reaching the bank, when the whole floating42
THE ADIRONDACK.
mass separates so far, that he can no longer step from
one to another, and after looking about a moment, he
quietly seats himself astraddle of one, and darts like a
tierce rider down the current.
These logs are carried twenty and thirty miles in
this way, passing from small streams to larger ones,
through lakes and along rivers, and are finally brought
up at the wished-for spot by poles across the river,
which stop their further descent. Several different
men club together to drive the stream, and here they
pick out each one his own, by the mark he has placed
upon it, as you have seen a farmer select his sheep
in a pen containing several flocks.
This marking logs like sheep, was entirely new to
me, and somewhat droll. I could imagine the owners
at the place of rendezvous, (i. e., of the logs,) selecting
them in somewhat the following manner: one cries
out, “ well, neighbor Jones, is that your log ?” “ Yes.”
“ How do you know ?”	“ Oh, it has my mark—crop-
ped on both ears and slit in the right; and here is one
belonging to you with a bob-tail, and a knot in the
forehead.”
This “ driving the river,” as it is called, is one of
the chief employments of your backwoodsmen inDIFFERENT YET THE SAME.
43
spring time, and it is curious to see what an object of
interest the river becomes. Its rise and fall are the
chief topics of conversation. So goes the world—New
York has its objects of interest—the country village its
—and the settler on the frontier his—each one is filled
with the same anxieties, hopes, fears and wishes—
overcome by the same discouragements and misfor-
tunes, and working out the same fate ; man still with
that mysterious soul and restless heart of his, greater
than a king, and immortal as an angel, yet absorbed
with straws and maddened or thrown into raptures by
a little glittering dust.y.
FORESTWARD—DINNER SCENE---PREPARATIONS TO ASCEND
MOUNT TAHAWUS. V '•
Backwoods, July 10, 1846.
Dear H-----:
It will be a long time before I am again by a post
office where I can get a letter to you. If you wish to
know the pleasure of seeing a newspaper from New
York, bury yourself in the woods for three or four
weeks, where not a pulsation of the great busy world
can reach you, nor a word from its ten thousand
tongues and pens meet your ear or eye. The sight of
one, then, fresh from the press, putting in your hands
again the links of that great chain of human events
you had lost—re-binding you to your race, and re-
placing you in the mighty movement that bears all
things onward, is most welcome. You cannot con-
ceive the contrasts, nay, almost the shocks of feeling
one experiences in stepping from the crowded city intoFOREST LIFE
45
the dense forest where his couch is the boughs he him-
self cuts, and his companions the wild deer and the
birds; or in emerging again into civilized life, and
listening to the strange tumult that has not ceased in
his absence. One seems to have dreamed twice—nay,
to be in a dream yet. Yesterday, as it were, I was
walking the crowded streets of New York; last eve-
ning, in a birch-bark canoe, with an Indian beside
me, nearly a day’s journey from a human habitation,
sailing over a lake whose green shores have never been
marred by the axe of civilization, and on whose broad
expanse not a boat was floating, but that which guided
me and my companions on. For miles the Indian has
carried this canoe on his head through the woods, and
now it is breasting the waves that come rolling like
fluid gold from the west. The sun is going to his re-
pose amid the purple mountains—the blue sky seems
to lift in the elastic atmosphere—the scream of the
wild bird fills the solitude, and all is strange and new,
while green islands untrodden by man greet us as we
steer towards yonder distant point, where our camp-fire
is to be lighted to-night. Grlorious scene—glorious
evening! with my Indian and my rifle by my side—
skimming in this canoe along the clear waters, how46
THE ADIRONDACK.
far away seem the strifes of men and the discords of
life. To-night my couch of balsam boughs shall be
welcome, until the cloudless morn floods this wild
scene with light.
But I find I am getting on too fast. To begin at
the beginning—I started with four companions, from
where I had been for some time fishing, for a stretch
through the wilderness, to ascend Mount Marcy, as it
is foolishly called,—properly Mount Tahawus,—and go
through the famous Indian Pass. Here there are no
mule paths, as in Switzerland, leading to the bases
of mountains, whence you can mount to the summits;
but all is woods! woods! woods! The highest and
most picturesque of the Adirondack peaks lie deep in
the forest, where none but an experienced guide can
carry you. To reach Mount Tahawus, you must
come in from Caldwell or Westport, about thirty miles,
in a mail wagon, and then you have a stretch of
some forty miles through the woods to the Adiron-
dack Iron Works. There is but one road to these
Works, where it stops, and he who would go farther
must take to the pathless woods ; indeed, it was
made solely for these iron quarries, by the company
which owns them.A DINNER SCENE.
47
Well, here we are, in the heart of the forest, five of
us, bumping along in a lumber wagon over a road
you would declare a civilized team could not travel.*'
Now straining up a steep ascent—now whang to
the axle-tree between the rocks, and now lying at an
angle of forty-five degrees, and again carefully lifting
ourselves over a fallen tree, we tumble and bang
along at the enormous rate of two miles an hour.
By dint of persuasion, the use of the whip, and a
thousand “ he-ups,” we have acquired this velocity, and
been able to keep it for the last seven hours. But
man and beast grow weary—it is one o’clock, and as
the forest is but half traversed, a dinner must be
had in some way. In three minutes the horses are
unhitched, and eating from the wagon—in three more
a cheerful fire is crackling in the woods, and our
knapsacks are scattered around, disgorging their con-
tents. Here is a bit of pork, here some ham, tongue,
anchovy-paste, bread, &c., &c., strung along like a
column of infantry, on a moss-covered log, and each
one with his pocket-knife is doing his devoirs. We
eat with an appetite that would throw a French cook
into ecstaeies, did he but shut his eyes to our bill of
* It has been improved since, and is now quite good,48
THE ADIRONDACK.
fare. Dinner being over, B—n, a six-footer, one of
the finest specimens of a farmer and gentleman you
will meet in many a day, has lighted his pipe, and is
sitting on the ground with his back against a log,
deep in the columns of the Courier and Enquirer
which I received the day before we started. Young
A-----Id, a quiet little fellow, about eighteen years
old, is stretched full length on the log trying to get a
nap. Young S---------th, tough, vigorous, and full of
blood and spirits, as these old woods are of musqui-
toes, whose hearty laugh rings out every five minutes,
as well at misfortunes as at a joke, is smoking his
cigar over the Albany Argus. P-----------, one of the
most careless of mortals, who is just as likely to run
his head against a tree as one side of it—who, in all
human probability, will have his heel on your pork
before it is half toasted, or his pantaloon-strap in
your tea before it is half cooled, is backed up
against a tree, with his legs across a dead limb,
running over the columns of the Express. He is
one of your poetic creatures ; half the time in a
dream, and the other half indulging in drollery
that keeps the company in a roar. He was never
in the woods before, and the shadow of the mightyLAKE SANFORD.
49
forest falls on his spirit with a strange power, awak-
ening a world of new emotions within him. Again
and again have I been startled by his “How savage !
how awful!” At a little distance I myself am sit-
ting against a stump, with the Tribune in my hand,
telling B-----n the news from Washington. This
sets him going; and his sensible remarks on poli-
tical subjects would make a capital leader for a
paper. There you have my fellow-travelers; and
you must confess there could not be better com-
panions for a tramp of a few weeks in the forest.
Refreshed by our dinner and primitive siesta, we
pushed on, and at length reached the foot of Lake
Sanford, where we found Cheney cutting down trees.
Embarking in his boat, we rowed slowly up to the Adi-
rondack Iron Works. This lake is a beautiful sheet of
water, without a hand-breath of cultivation upon its
shores. Islands smile on you from every point, while
to the right, lifts in grand composure the whole chain
or rather the countless peaks of the Adirondack.
Tamerack and cedar trees line the banks—in some
places growing straight out over the water—the
tops almost as near the surface as the roots. It
seems as if they were attracted by the moisture below,
350
THE ADIRONDACK.
and thus grew in a horizontal direction instead of an
upright one. The effect of such a strange growth
along the shore, is singular in the extreme.
As we passed leisurely up the lake—now glancing
away from an island—now steering along the narrow
channel which separated two, we saw a white gull sit-
ting on a solitary rock that just appeared above the
water. I ascertained afterwards, that he sat there day
after day, watching for fish. His nest was on the
island near.
Coming near another island, Cheney rested a mo-
ment on his oars, and said, “ here Mr. Ingham made
a picture of the lake.”
But all journeys must end, and we at length, after
forcing our way up the narrow and shallow inlet, found
ourselves at the Adirondack Iron Works—the loneliest
place a hammer ever struck in. Forty miles to a post
office or a mill—-flour eight dollars a barrel, and com-
mon tea a dollar a pound in these woods, in the very
heart of the Empire State! These quarries were dis-
covered by an Indian, and made known by him to Mr.
Henderson, who paid him, I believe, two shillings a
day, and found him in tobacco, to take him in where
the water poured over an “ iron dam.” From this toPREPARATIONS.
51
the top of Mount Tahawus, it is nearly twenty miles
through the woods. Not a human footstep, so our guide
the “ mighty hunter, Cheney,” tells us, has profaned it
for six years, and it is two good days’ work to go and
return. A tramp of forty miles through a pathless
forest to see one mountain, is a high price to pay, but
we have resolved to do it. You must know that thirty
miles in dense woods, is equal to sixty miles
along a beaten track. These primeval forests are not
your open groves like those south and west, through
which a horse can gallop; but woven and twisted to-
gether and filled up with underbrush that prevent you
from seeing ten rods ahead, and which scratch and
flog you at every step, as if you were running the
gauntlet.
One or two nights at least, we must sleep in the
woods, and our provision be carried on our backs, and
so behold us at 7 o’clock in the morning ready to start.
First comes Cheney, our guide, with a heavy pack on
his back filled with bread, and pork and sugar, carry-
ing an axe in his hand with which to build our shanty
and cut our fuel. Young S----------th has also a pack
strapped to his shoulders, while A------Id and P-------
have nothing but their overcoats lashed around them;52
THE ADIRONDACK.
B-----n carries a tea-kettle in his hand, for he would
as soon think of camping out without his pipe and to-
bacco, as without his tea. As for myself, I carry a
green blanket tied by a rope to my shoulders, a strong
hunting-knife and a large stick like the Alpine stock,
which I found so great a help in climbing the Alps.
Some of the worthy workmen of the furnace are look-
ing on, doubtful whether all will hold out to the top.
“ Have you the pork ?” says one; “ Yes.” “ Have you
the sugar and tea ?”	“ Yes.” “ Have you the spy-
glass ?”	“ Yes.” “ Well,” says Cheney, “ is every-
thing ready ?” “Yes.” “ Then let us be off.”
Yours truly.VI.
ASCENT OP MOUNT TAHAWUS-----A MAN SHOT----A HARD
TRAMP---GLORIOUS PROSPECT-A CAMP SCENE.
Backwoods, July 12.
Hurrah ! we are off, and crossing a branch of the
Hudson near its source, enter the forest, Indian file,
and stretch forward. It is no child’s play before us ;
and the twenty miles we are to travel will test the
blood and muscle of every one. The first few miles
there is a rough path, which was cut last summer, in
order to bring out the body of Mr. Henderson. It
is a great help, but filled with sad associations. At
length we came to the spot where twenty-five work-
men watched with the body in the forest all night.
It was too late to get through, and here they kindled
their camp-fire, and stayed. The rough poles are
still there, on which the corpse rested. “ Here,”
says Cheney, “ on this log I sat all night, and held54
THE ADIRONDACK.
Mr. Henderson’s little son, eleven years of age, in my
arms. Oh, how he cried to be taken in to his mother;
but it was impossible to find our way through the
woods ; and he, at length, cried himself to sleep in
my arms. Oh, it was a dreadful night.” A mile
further on, and we came to the rock where he was
shot. It stands by a little pond, and was selected by
them to dine upon. Cheney was standing on the
other side of the pond, with the little boy, whither
he had gone to make a raft, on which to take some
trout, when he heard the report of a gun, and then a
scream; and looking across, saw Mr. Henderson clasp
his arms twice over his breast, exclaiming, “I am
shot!” The son fainted by Cheney’s side; but in a
few moments all stood round the dying man, who
murmured, “ What an accident, and in such a place !”
In laying down his pistol, with the muzzle unfortu-
nately towards him, the hammer struck the rock, and
the cap exploding, the entire contents were lodged in
his body. After commending his soul to his Maker,
and telling his son to be a good boy, and give his
love to his mother, he leaned back and died. It
made us sad to gaze on the spot; and poor Cheney,
as he drew a long sigh, looked the picture of sorrow.THE MARCH.
55
Perhaps some of us would thus be carried out of the
woods. He left New York as full of hope as myself;
and here he met his end. Shall I be thus borne
back to my friends ? It is a little singular that he
was always nervously afraid of fire-arms, and car-
ried this pistol solely as a protection against wild
beasts ; and yet, he fell by his own hand. He never
could see a man walking in the streets with a gun in
his hand, without stepping to the door to inquire if
it were loaded. Poor man! it was a sad place to die
in; for his body had to be carried over thirty miles
on men’s shoulders, before they came to a public
road.
The exhausting march, however, soon drove these
sad thoughts from our minds, and we strained for-
ward—now treading over a springy marsh—now
stooping and crawling like lame iguanas, through a
swamp of spruce trees, and anon following the path
made by deer and moose, as they came from the
mountains to the streams, or climbing around a cata-
ract, until, at length, we reached Lake Colden, per-
fectly embosomed amid the gigantic mountains, and
looking for all the world like an innocent child sleep-
ing in a robber’s embrace. Awfully savage and wild56
THE ADIRONDACK.
are the mountains that enclose this placid sheet of
water. Crossing a strip of forest, we next struck the
Opalescent River, so called from the opals found in its
bed. The forest here is almost impassible; and so, for
five miles, we kept the bed of the stream, chasing it
backward to its source. The channel is one mass of
rocks ; and hence, our march was a constant leap
from one to another, requiring a correct eye, and a
steady foot, to keep the balance. Thus, zigzaging
over the bed of this turbulent stream, we flitted
backward and forward, like flies over the surface of
a river, till, at length, I heard a shout. S--th had
missed his footing, and slipping from a rock, gone
plump into a deep pool. Gathering himself up, he
laughed louder than the loudest, and pushed on.
Suddenly Cheney stopped and listened; for the
deep bay of his hound in the distance, rang through
the forest. “ He has stopped something,” he ex-
claimed; “hark, how fierce he is. I shouldn’t won-
der if it was a moose ; for a cow moose, with her calf,
will stop and fight a dog this time a year. If it is a
moose, it would be worth while to go back.” But I
was after Mount Tahawus, and could ill afford to lin-
ger on the way, although soon after we heard the low-THE LUNCH.
57
ing of a moose in a distant gorge—how lonely the
deep echo sounded.
At length we all came to a halt on the rocks, and
prepared for dinner, and no one was more glad than
myself to rest. A blazing fire was kindled of dry logs,
and soon each one had his piece of fat pork on a long
stick, and was holding it over the flame. I counted
four pieces all coming to a focus before I added mine
to the list. Putting them together was a capital ar-
rangement, for the fat dropping off* into the fire in-
creased the blaze, and hence facilitated the cooking.
Dipping my slice every few seconds into the river to
freshen it, and then laying it upon my bread to pre-
serve the gravy, I at length had the satisfaction of
seeing it well done. It was eaten with an appetite
that quite alarmed me, for it indicated such a radical
change in my notions and taste, that I was afraid I
might turn into something monstrous.
Soon after, our packs were all slung again, and we
on the march. We continued diving deeper and deeper
into the hills, until we at last reached the base of
the mountain, and the foot of a lofty cataract. I have
climbed the Alps and Appenines, but never found foot
and eye in such requisition before. It was literally
3*58
THE ADIRONDACK.
“ right up,” while the spruce trees, with their dry
limbs like thorns a yard long, stuck out on every side,
ready to transfix us, and compelling us to duck and
dodge at every step. Now sinking through the treach-
erous moss that covered some gap in the rocks, and
now swinging from one dead tree to another, we con-
tinued for two miles panting and straining up the
steep acclivity, flogged and torn at every step. We
had already gone fifteen miles, and such a winding up
of the tramp was too much. H----------- thought “the
Millerites had better start from this elevation.” A----
said ’twould “ tear their ascension robes so that they
would look rather shabby on the wing.” T----------was
sure the notion would take with them, as they
“ Could make such a dale of the journey on foot.”
One large athletic hunter we had taken along as
an assistant, gave out, so that we were compelled fre-
quently to halt and let him rest. The fir trees
grew thicker and more dwarfish as we ascended, til
they became mere shrubs, and literally matted to-
gether, so that you could not see two feet in advance
of you. Through, and over these we floundered, and
urged our steps: yet, tired as I was, I could not butTHE TOP OF TAHAWUS.
59
stop and laugh to see B-----n fight his way through.
♦Rolling himself ov.er like a cart-wheel, he would dis-
appear in the thick evergreens—in a short time, his
face, red with the fierce struggle, would rise like that
of a spent swimmer’s over the waves; and then, with
a crash, he went out of sight again; and so kept up
the battle for at least half an hour. Here we passed
over the bed of a moose, which we doubtless roused
from his repose, for the rank grass was still matted
where he had lain. At length, we emerged upon the
brow of a cliff, across a gulf at the base of which arose
a bare, naked pyramid, that pushed its rocky forehead
high into the heavens. This was the summit of
Tahawus. A smooth grey rock, shaped like an in-
verted bowl, stood before us, as if on purpose to
mock all our efforts. Halfway up this was S-------th,
looking no larger than a dog, as with his pack on his
back he crawled on all fours over the rocks. Hitherto
nothing could knock the fun out of him; and as he
from time to time stumbled on a log, or heard the
complaint of some one behind, he would sing in a
comical sort of a chorus, “ go-in-up” followed by his
hearty ha-ha-ha, as if he were impervious to fatigue.
To every halloo we sent after him, he would re-60
THE ADIRONDACK.
turn that everlasting “ go-in-up ,” sung out so funnily
\
that we invariably echoed back his laugh, till the
mountains rang again. But now he was silent—
the “ go-in-up” had become a serious matter, and it
required all his breath to enable him to 66 go up.”
As we ascended this bald cone, the chill wind swept
by like a December blast; and well it might, for the
snow had been gone but a few weeks. The fir
trees had gradually dwindled away, till they were not
taller than your finger, and now disappeared altoge-
ther ; for nothing but naked rock could resist the
climate of this high region. The dogs, which had
hitherto scoured the forest on every side, crouched
close and shivering to our side—evidently frightened,
as they looked off on empty space—and all was
dreary, savage, and wild.
At length we reached the top; and oh, what a view
spread out before, or rather below us. Here we were
more than a mile up in the heavens, on the highest
point of land in the Empire State ; and with one
exception the highest in the Union; and in the centre
of a chaos of mountains, the like of which I never
saw before. It was wholly different from the Alps.
There were no snow peaks and shining glaciers; butGLORIOUS PROSPECT.
61
all was grey, or green, or black, as far as the vision
could extend. It looked as if the Almighty had once
set this vast earth rolling like the sea ; and then, in
the midst of its maddest flow, bid all the gigantic
billows stop and congeal in their places. And there
they stood, just as He froze them—grand and gloomy.
There was the long swell—and there the cresting,
bursting billow—and there, too, the deep, black,
cavernous gulf. Far away—more than fifty miles
to the south-east—a storm was raging, and the mas-
sive clouds over the distant mountains of Vermont,
or rather between us and them, and below their sum-
mits, stood balanced in space, with their white tops
towering over their black and dense bases, as if they
were the margin of Jehovah’s mantle folded back to
let the earth beyond be seen. That far-away storm
against a background of mountains, and with
nothing but the most savage scenery between—how
mysterious—how awful it seemed !
Mount Colden, with its terrific precipices—Mount
McIntyre, with its bold, black, barren, monster-like-
head—White Face, with its white spot on its forehead,
and countless other summits pierced the heavens in
every direction. And then, such a stretch of forest,62
THE ADIRONDACK.
for more than three hundred miles in circumference—
ridges and slopes of green, broken only by lakes that
dared just to peep into view from their deep hiding-
places—one vast wilderness seamed here and there by
a river whose surface you could not see, but whose
course you could follow by the black winding gap
through the tops of the trees. Still there was beauty
as well as grandeur in the scene. Lake Champlain,
with its islands spread away as far as the eye could
follow towards the Canadas, while the distant Grreen
Mountains rolled their granite summits along the
eastern horizon, with Burlington curtained in smoke
at their feet. To the north-west gleamed out here and
there the lakes of the Saranac River, and farther to
the west, those along the Raquette ; nearer by, Lake
Sanford, Placid Lake, Lake Colden, Lake Henderson,
shone in quiet beauty amid the solitude. Nearly
thirty lakes in all were visible—some dark as polished
jet beneath the shadow of girdling mountains ; others
flashing out upon the limitless landscape, like smiles
to relieve the gloom of the great solitude. Through-
out the wide extent but three clearings were visible—
all was as Nature made it. My head swam in the
wondrous vision; and I seemed lifted up above theTHE LAST VIEW.
63
earth, and shown all its mountains and forests and
lakes at once. But the impression of the whole, it
is impossible to convey—nay, I am myself hardly
conscious what it is. It seems as if I had seen
vagueness, terror, sublimity, strength, and beauty, all
embodied, so that I had a new and more definite know-
ledge of them. God appears to have wrought in these
old mountains with His highest power, and designed
to leave a symbol of His omnipotence. Man is noth-
ing here, his very shouts die on his lips. One of our
company tried to sing, but his voice fled from him
into the empty space. We fired a gun, but it gave
only half a report, and no echo came back, for there
was nothing to check the sound in its flight. “ God
is great!” is the language of the heart, as it swells
over such a scene.
And this is in New York, I at length exclaimed,
whose surface is laced with railroads and canals, and
whose rivers are turbulent with steamboats and
fringed with cities. Yet here is a mountain in its
centre but few feet have ever trod, or will tread for a
century to come.
We designed to encamp as near the summit as we
could, and obtain firewood, so that we might see the64
THE ADIRONDACK.
sun rise from the summit, but the heavens grew dark-
er every moment, warning us to find shelter for the
night. About 5 o’clock we left the top and went hel-
ter-skelter down the precipitous sides. After going at
a break-neck pace for several miles over rocks, along
ravines and through the bushes, S---------th shouting at
every leap “ go-in-down” we at length stopped and be-
gan to peel bark to cover us for the night, for we were
twelve miles from a clearing, and it was getting dark.
Soon the axe resounded through the forest, and tree
after tree came to the earth to furnish us fuel. “ Every
man must pick his own bed,” cried our guide; for he
had his hands full to erect a shanty. Our knapsacks
were laid aside, and we scattered ourselves among the
balsam trees with knife in hand to cut boughs to sleep
on. The mossy ground was damp, and I picked me a
thick couch and stretched myself upon it while supper
was preparing. Our fire was made of logs more than
twenty feet long, and as the flames arose and caught
the spruce trees they shot up in pyramids of flames,
crackling in the night air like so many fire-crackers.
One dry tree took fire, and I asked if it might not burn
in two during the night and fall on us. Cheney
walked around it to ascertain the way it leaned, thenCAMP VIEW.
65
quietly seating himself said, “ yes, it will burn in two,
but it will fall t’other way.” I must confess, this
cool reply was not wholly satisfactory, for burning
trees sometimes take curious whims,—however, there
was no help, and so I lay down to sleep. The storm
which had been slowly gathering soon commenced,
and all night long the rain fell, but the good fire kept
crackling and blazing away, and I was so completely
fagged out that I slept deliciously. I awoke but
once, and then enjoyed such a long and hearty laugh,
that I felt quite refreshed. The immense logs in
front of us, became in time a mass of lurid coals send-
ing forth a scorching heat. Hence, as we lay packed
together like a row of pickled fish, those in the centre
took the full force of the fire. First a sleeper would
strike his hand upon his thigh and roll over—then
give the other a slap, dreaming, doubtless, of being
boiled like a turkey, till at length the heat waked him
up, when he rose and shot like an arrow into the
woods. The next went through the same operation—
the third, and so on, till all but the two “ outsiders,”
of which I was one, were in the woods cooling them-
selves off in the rain. Not a word was spoken for
some time, for they were not fairly awake, but as one66
THE ADIRONDACK.
began to ask another, why he was out there in the
dark, the answers were so honest and yet so droll,
that I went into convulsions. If you had heard
them comparing notes as I did, back of the shanty,
your sides would have ached for a fortnight. And
then the sheepish way they crawled back one after
another, looking in stupid amazement at me rolling
and screaming on the balsam boughs, would have
quite finished a soberer man than you.
The tramp of twelve miles, next morning, was the
hardest, for the distance, I ever took. Stiff and lame,
with nothing to excite my imagination, I dragged
myself sullenly along, and at noon reached the Iron
Works.
“Oh, but a weary wight was he,
When he reached the foot of the dogwood tree.”VII.
SAGACITY OF THE HOUND---THE INDIAN PASS--PRECIPICE
TWO THOUSAND FEET HIGH.
Backwoods, July 6.
Dear H------:
The famous Indian Pass is probably the most
remarkable gorge in this country, if not in the
world. On Monday morning, a council was called
of our party, to determine whether we should
visit it, for the effects of the severe tramp two
days before, had not yet left us, and hardly one
walked without limping—as for myself, I could
not wear my boots and had borrowed a pair of large
shoes. But the Indian Pass I was determined to see,
even if I remained behind alone, and so we all to-
gether started off. It was six miles through the
forest, and we were compelled to march in single file.
At one moment skirting the margin of a beautiful
lake, and then creeping through thickets, or stepping68
THE ADIRONDACK.
daintily across a springing morass, we picked our
way until we at length struck a stream, the bed of
which we followed into the bosom of the mountains.
"We crossed deer paths every few rods, and soon the
two hounds Cheney had taken with him, parted from
us, and their loud deep bay began to ring and echo
through the gorge.
The instincts with which animals are endowed by
their Creator, on purpose to make them successful in
the chase, is one of the most curious things in nature.
I watched for a long time the actions of one of these
noble hounds. With his nose close to the leaves, he
would double backwards and forwards on a track, to
see whether it was fresh or not—then abandon it at
once, when he found it too old. At length, striking a
fresh one, he started off; but the next moment, finding
he was going back instead of forwards on the track, he
wheeled, and came dashing past on a furious run,
his eyes glaring with excitement. Soon his voice
made the forest ring; and I could imagine the quick
start it gave to the deer, quietly grazing, it might
have been, a mile away. Lifting his beautiful head
a moment, to ascertain if that cry of death was
on Ms track, he bounded off in the long chase andcheney’s hound.
69
bold swim for life. Well; let them pass : the cry
grows fainter and fainter; and they—the pursued
and the pursuer—are but an emblem of what is
going on in the civilized world from which I am
severed. Life may be divided into two parts—the
hunters and the hunted. It is an endless chase,
where the timid and the weak constantly fall by
the way. The swift racers come and go like sha-
dows on the vision ; and the cries of fear and of
victory swell on the ear and die away, only to give
place to another and another. Thus musing, I
pushed on;—at length, we left the bed of the
stream, and began to climb amid broken rocks that
were piled in huge chaos, up and up, as far as the
eye could reach. My rifle became such a burdeji,
that I was compelled to leave it against a tree,
with a mark erected near by, to determine its lo-
cality. I had expected, from paintings I had seen
of this Pass, that I was to walk almost on a level
into a huge gap between two mountains, and look
up on the precipices that toppled heaven high above
me. But here was a world of rocks, overgrown with
trees and moss—over and under and between which
we were compelled to crawl and dive and work our70
THE ADIRONDACK.
way with so much exertion and care, that the
strongest soon began to be exhausted. Caverns opened
on every side; and a more hideous, toilsome, break-
neck tramp I never took. Leaping a chasm at one
time, we paused upon the brow of an overhanging
cliff, while Cheney, pointing below, said, “ There,
I’ve scared panthers from those caverns many times ;
we may meet one yet: if so, I think he’ll remember
us as long ns he lives /” I thought the probabilities
were, that we should remember him much longer than
he would us. At least I had no desire to task his
memory, being perfectly willing to leave the matter
undecided. There was a stream somewhere; but no
foot could follow it, for it was a succession of cascades,
wdth perpendicular walls each side hemming it in.
It was more like climbing a broken and shattered
mountain, than entering a gorge. At length, how-
ever, we came where the fallen rocks had made an
open space around, and spread a fearful ruin in their
place. On many of these, trees were growing fifty
feet high, while a hundred men could find shelter in
their sides. As the eye sweeps over these fragments
of a former earthquake, the imagination is busy with
the past—the period when an interlocking range ofTHE PRECIPICE.
71
mountains was riven, and the encircling peaks bowing
in terror, reeled like ships upon a tossing ocean, and
the roar of a thousand storms rolled away from the
yawning gulf, into which precipices and forests went
down with the deafening crash of a falling world. A
huge mass that then had been loosened from its high
bed, and hurled below, making a cliff of itself, from
which to fall would have been certain death, our
guide called the “Church,”—and it did lift itself there
like a huge altar, right in front of the main precipice
that rose in a naked wall more than a thousand feet#
perpendicular. It is two thousand feet from the sum-
mit to the base, but part of the chasm has been filled
with its own ruins, so that the spot on which you
stand is a thousand feet above the valley below, and
nearly three thousand above tide water. Thus it
stretches for three-quarters of a mile—in no place less
than five hundred feet perpendicular. By dint of
scrambling and pulling each other up, we at last suc-
ceeded in reaching the top of the church, while from
our very feet rose this awful cliff that really oppressed
me with its near and frightful presence. Majestic,
solemn and silent, with the daylight from above pour-
* Some say a thousand, others twelve hundred.72
THE ADIRONDACK.
ing all over its dread form, it stood the impersonation
of strength and grandeur.
I never saw but one precipice that impressed me so,
and that was in the Alps, in the Pass of the Grand
Scheideck. I lay on my back filled with strange
feelings of the power and grandeur of the God who
had both framed and rent this mountain asunder.
There it stood still and motionless in its majesty
Far, far away heavenward rose its top, fringed with
fir trees, that looked, at that immense height, like
mere shrubs ; and they, too, did not wave, but stood
silent and moveless as the rock they crowned. Any
motion or life would have been a relief—even the
tramp of the storm ; for there was something fearful
in that mysterious, profound silence. How loudly
God speaks to the heart, when it lies thus awe-struck
and subdued in the presence of His works. In the
shadow of such a grand and terrible form, man seems
but the plaything of a moment, to be blown away
with the first breath. Persons not accustomed to
scenes of this kind, would not at first get an adequate
impression of the magnitude of the precipice. Every-
thing is on such a gigantic scale—all the proportions
so vast, and the mountains so high about it, that theIMPRESSIONS.
73
real individual greatness is lost sight of. But that
wall of a thousand feet perpendicular, with its seams
and rents and stooping cliiTs, is one of the few things
in the world the beholder can never forget. It frowns
yet on my vision in my solitary hours; and with
feelings half of sympathy, half of terror, I think of
it rising there in its lonely greatness.
“ Has not the soul, the being of your life,
Received a shock of awful consciousness,
In some calm season, when these lofty rocks,
At night’s approach, bring down th’ unclouded sky
To rest upon the circumambient walls;
A temple framing of dimensions vast,
*	* The whispering air
Sends inspiration from the shadowy heights
And blind recesses of the cavern’d rocks;
The little rills and waters numberless,
Insensible by daylight, blend their notes
With the loud streams : and often, at the hour
When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard
Within the circuit of the fabric huge,
One voice—one solitary raven, flying
Athwart the concave of the dark blue dome,
Unseen, perchance, above the power of sight—
An iron knell! with echoes from afar,
Faint and still fainter.”
474
THE ADIRONDACK.
I will only add, that none of the drawings or paint-
ings I have seen of this pass, give so correct an idea
of it, as the one accompanying this description. We
turned our steps homeward, and after having chased a
deer into the lake in vain, reached the Adirondack
Iron Works at noon. We had traveled twelve miles,
a part of the way on our hands and knees.
I had received a fall in the pass which stunned me
dreadfully, and made every step like driving a nail
into my brain. Losing my footing, I had fallen back-
wards, and gone down head foremost among the rocks
—a single foot either side, and I should have been
precipitated into a gulf of broken rocks, from which
nothing of myself but a mangled mass would ever
have been taken. Stunned and helpless, I was borne
by my friends to a rill, the cool water of which re-
vived me.
Yours, &c.,VIII.
THE HUNTER CHENEY-----ENCOUNTERS WITH A PANTHER----
DEADLY STRUGGLE WITH A WOLF----A BEAR AND MOOSE
FIGHT--SHOOTS HIMSELF.
Backwoods, July 12.
Dear H------:
You know one expects to hear of hunting achieve-
ments upon our western frontier, where the sounds of
civilization have not yet frightened away the wild
beasts that haunt the forest. But here in the
heart of the Empire State is a man whose fame
is known far and wide as the “ mighty hunter,”
and if desperate adventures and hair-breadth escapes
give one a claim to the sobriquet, it certainly be-
longs to him. Some ten or fifteen years ago, Cheney,
then a young man, becoming enamored of forest life
left Ticonderoga, and with his rifle on his shoulder,
plunged into this then unknown, untrodden wilder-
ness. Here he lived for years on what his gun76
THE ADIRONDACK.
brought him. Finding in his long stretches through
the wood, where the timber is so thick you can-
not see an animal more than fifteen rods, that a
heavy rifle was a useless burden, he had a pistol made
about eleven inches in length, stocked like a rifle,
which, with his hunting knife and dog, became his
only companions. I had him with me several days as
a guide, for he knows better than any other man the
mysteries of this wilderness, though there are vast
tracts even he would not venture to traverse. Moose,
deer, bears, panthers, wolves, and wild cats, have by
turns, made his acquaintance, and some of his en-
counters would honor old Daniel Boone himself.
Once he came suddenly upon a panther that lay
crouched for a spring within a single bound of him.
He had nothing but his gun and knife with him,
while the glaring eyes and gathered form of the furi-
ous animal at his feet, told him that a moment’s
delay, a miss, or a false cap, would bring them locked
in each other’s embrace, and in a death-struggle.
But without alarm or over-haste, he brought his rifle
to bear upon the creature’s head, and fired just as he
was sallying back for the spring. The ball entered
the brain, and with one wild bound his life departed,FIGHT WITH A WOLF.
77
and he lay quivering on the leaves. Being a little
curious to know whether he was not somewhat agi-
tated in finding himself in such close proximity to a
panther all ready for the fatal leap, I asked him how
he felt when he saw the animal crouching so near.
“ I felt,” said he coolly, “ as if I should kill him.” I
need not tell you that I felt a little foolish at the
answer, and concluded not to tell him that I expected
he would say that his heart suddenly stopped beating,
and the woods reeled around him; for the perfect sim-
plicity of the reply took me all aback—yet it was
rather an odd feeling to be uppermost in a man’s
mind just at that moment—it was, however, per-
fectly characteristic of Cheney.
His fight with a wolf was a still more serious
affair. As he came upon the animal, ravenous with
hunger, and floundering through the snow, he raised
his rifle and fired; but the wolf, making a spring just
as he pulled the trigger, the ball did not hit a
vital part. This enraged her still more; and she
made at him furiously. He had now nothing but an
empty rifle with which to defend himself, and instant-
ly clubbing it, he laid the stock over the wolf’s head.
So desperately did the creature fight, that he broke78
THE ADIRONDACK.
the stock into fragments without disabling her. He
then seized the barrel, which, making a better
bludgeon, told with more effect. The bleeding and
enraged animal seized the hard iron with her teeth,
and endeavored to wrench it from his grasp—
but it was a matter of life and death with Cheney,
and he fought savagely. But, in the meantime,
the wolf, by stepping on his snow-shoes as she closed
with him, threw him over. He then thought the
game was up, unless he could make his dogs, which
were scouring the forest around, hear him. He
called loud and sharp after them, and soon one—a
young hound—sprung into view: but no sooner did
he see the condition of his master, than he turned in
affright, and with his tail between his legs, fled into
the woods. But, at this critical moment, the other
hound burst with a shrill savage cry, and a wild
bound, upon the struggling group. Sinking his teeth
to the jaw bone in the wolf, he tore her fiercely from
his master. Turning to grapple with this new foe,
she gave Cheney opportunity to gather himself up,
and fight to better advantage. At length, by a well-
directed blow, he crushed in the skull, which finished
the work. After this he got his pistol made.BEAR FIGHT.
79
You know that a bear always sleeps through the
winter. Curled up in a cavern, or under a fallen tree,
in some warm pkce, he composes himself to rest,
and, Rip-Yan-Winkle-like, snoozes away the season.
True, he is somewhat thin when he thaws out in the
spring, and looks voracious about the jaws, making
it rather dangerous to come in contact with him.
Cheney told me, that one day, while hunting on snow
shoes, he suddenly broke through the crust, and came
upon a bear taking his winter’s nap. The spot this
fellow had chosen, was the cavity made by the roots
of an upturned tree. It was a warm, snug place;
and the snow having fallen several feet deep over him,
protected him from frosts and winds. The uncere-
monious thrust of Cheney’s leg against his carcass,
roused up Bruin, and with a growl that made the
hunter withdraw his foot somewhat hastily, he leaped
forth on the snow. Cheney had just given his knife
to his companion, who had gone to the other side of
the mountain to meet him farther on; and hence, had
nothing but his pistol to defend himself with. He
had barely time to get ready before the huge creature
was close upon him. IJnterrified, however, he took
deliberate aim right between the fellow’s eyes, and80
THE ADIRONDACK.
pulled the trigger; but the cap exploded without
discharging the pistol. He had no time to put on
another cap; so, seizing his pistol by the muzzle, he
aimed a tremendous blow at the creature’s head. But
the bear caught it on his paw with a cuff that sent it
ten yards from Cheney’s hand, and the next moment
was rolling over Cheney himself in the snow. His
knife being gone, it became simply a contest of
physical strength; and, in hugging and wrestling, the
bear evidently had the advantage; and the hunter’s
life seemed not worth asking for. But, just then, his
dog came up, and seizing the animal from behind,
made him loosen his hold, and turn and defend him-
self. Cheney then sprang to his feet, and began to
look around for his pistol. By good luck he saw the
breech just peeping out of the snow. Drawing it
forth, and hastily putting on a fresh cap, and re-
fastening his snow-shoes, which had become loosened
in the struggle, he made after the bear. When he
and the dog closed, both fell, and began to roll, one
over the other down the side-hill, locked in the
embrace of death. The bear, however, was too much
for the dog, and, at length, shook him off, leaving the
latter dreadfully lacerated—“ torn,” as Cheney said,ATTACK OF A MOOSE.
81
“ all to pieces. But,” he added, “ I never saw such
pluck in a dog before. As soon as he found I was
ready for a fight he was furious, bleeding as he was,
to be after the bear. I told him we would have the
rascal, if we died for it; and away he jumped, leav-
ing his blood on the snow as he went. i Hold on,’
said I, and he held on till I came up. I took aim at
his head, meaning to put the ball in the centre of his
brain; but it struck below, and only tore his jaw to
pieces. I loaded up again, and fired, but did not kill
him, though the ball went through his head. The
third time I fetched him, and he was a bouncer, I tell
you.” “ But the dog, Cheney,” said I ; “ what
became of the poor, noble dog ?”	“ Oh, he was
dreadfully mangled. I took him up, and carried him
home, and nursed him. He got well, but was never
good for much afterwards—that fight broke him
down.” I asked him if a moose would ever show
fight. “ Yes,” he said, “ a cow moose, with her calf;
and so will any of them when wounded or hard
pushed. I was once out hunting, when my dog
started two. I heard a thrashing through the bushes,
and in a minute more I saw both of them coming
right towards me. As soon as they saw me they
4*82
THE ADIRONDACK.
bent down their heads, and made at me at full speed.
The bushes and saplins snapped under them like
pipe-stems. Just before they reached me, I stepped
behind a tree, and fired as they jumped by. The ball
went clear through one, and lodged in the other’”
Cheney kills about seventy deer per annum. He
has none of the roughness of the hunter; but is one
of the mildest, most unassuming, pleasant men you
will meet with anywhere. Among other things, he
told me of once following a bear all day, and treeing
him at night when it was so dark he could not see to
shoot; then sitting down at the root, to wait till morn-
ing that he might kill him. But, after awhile, all
being still, he fell asleep, and did not wake till day-
light. Opening his eyes in astonishment, he looked
up for the bear, but the cunning rascal had gone.
Taking advantage of his enemy’s slumbers, he had
crawled down and waddled off. Cheney said he
never felt so flat in his life, to be outwitted thus, and
by a bear.
With one anecdote illustrating his coolness, I
will bid his hunting adventures adieu. He was
once hunting alone by a little lake, when his
dogs brought a noble buck into the water. Cock-a hunter’s coolness.
83
ing his gun, and laying it in the bottom of the
boat, he pulled after the deer, which was swimming
boldly for his life. In the eagerness of pursuit, he
hit his rifle either with his paddle or foot, when it
went off, sending the ball directly through one of his
ankles. He stopped, and looking at his benumbed
limb, saw where the bullet had come out of his boot.
The first thought was, to return to the shore ; “ the
next was,” said he, “I may need that venison before I
get out of these woodsso, without waiting to ex-
amine the wound, he pulled on after the deer.
Coming up with him, he beat him to death with his
paddles, and pulling him into the boat, rowed ashore.
Cutting off his boot, he found his leg was badly man-
gled and useless. Bandaging it up, however, as well
as he could, he cut a couple of crotched sticks for
crutches, and with these walked fourteen miles to the
nearest clearing. There he got help, and was carried
slowly out of the woods. How a border-life sharpens
a man’s wits. Especially in an emergency does he
show to what strict discipline he has subjected his
mind. His resources are almost exhaustless, and his
presence of mind equal to that of one who has been
in a hundred battles. Wounded, perhaps mortally, it84
THE ADIRONDACK.
nevertheless flashed on this hunter’s thoughts, that
he might be so crippled that he could not stir for days
and weeks, but starve to death there in the woods.
“ I may need that venison before I get out,” said he ;
and so, with a mangled bleeding limb, he pursued
and killed a deer, on which he might feed in the
last extremity.IX.
GAME--MOOSE--CRUSTING MOOSE-A CATAMOUNT—CHASE
BETWEEN A DEER AND A PANTHER--A BEAR CAUGHT
IN A TRAP.
Backwoods, July 14, 1846.
Dear H------:
G-ame of all kinds swarm the forest; bears, wolves,
panthers, deer, and moose. I was not aware that so
many moose were to be found here : yet I do not
believe there is an animal of the African desert with
which our people are not more familiar than with it.
In size, at least, he is worthy of attention, being
much taller than the ox. You will sometimes find an
old bull moose eight feet high. The body is about the
size of a cow, while the legs are long and slender, giv-
ing to the huge bulk the appearance of being mounted
on stilts. The horns are broad, flat, and branching,
shooting in a horizontal curve from the head. I saw86
THE ADIRONDACK.
one pair from a moose that a cousin of Cheney killed,
that were nearly four feet across from tip to tip, and
the horn itself fifteen inches broad. The speed of
these animals through the thick forests, seems almost
miraculous, when we consider their enormous bulk
and branching horns. They seldom break into a
gallop, but when roused by a dog, start off on a rapid
pace, or half trot, with the nose erect and the head
working sideways to let their horns pass through
the branches. They are rarely, if ever, taken by
dogs, as they run on the start twenty miles without
stopping, over mountains, through swamps, and
across lakes and rivers. They are mostly killed early
in the spring—being then unable to travel the woods,
as the snow is often four and five feet deep, and
covered with a thick sharp crust. At these times,
and indeed in the early part of winter, they seek
out some lonely spot near a spring or water-course,
and there “ yard,” as it is termed; i. e. they trample
down the snow around them and browse, eating
everything clean as far as they go. Sometimes you
will find an old bull moose “ yarding” alone, some-
times two or three together. When found in this
state, they are easily killed, for they cannot run fast,A MOOSE YARD.
37
as they sink nearly up to their backs in the snow at
every jump.
Endowed, like most animals, with an instinct that
approaches marvelously near to reason, they have
another mode of “ yarding,” which furnishes greater
security than the one just described. You know that
mountain chains are ordinarily covered with heavy
timber, while the hills and swelling knolls at their
bases are crowned with a younger growth, furnishing
buds and tender sprouts in abundance. If you don’t,
the moose do; and so, during a thaw in January or
early spring, when the snow is from three to five feet
deep, a big fellow will begin to travel over and
around one of these hills. He knows that “ after a
thaw comes a freezeand hence, makes the best
use of his time. He will not stop to eat, but keeps
moving until the entire hill is fo‘-sected and inter-
sected from crown to base with paths he himself has
made. Therefore, when the weather changes, his
field of operations is still left open. The crust
freezes almost to the consistency of ice, and yet not
sufficiently strong to bear his enormous bulk; little,
however, does he care for that: the hill is at his
disposal, and he quietly loiters along the paths he88
THE ADIRONDACK.
has made, “ browsing” as he goes—expecting, most
rationally, that before he has finished the hill, another
thaw will come, when he will be able, without incon-
venience, to change his location. Is not this adapt-
ing one’s self to circumstances ?
But it is no child’s play to go after these fellows in
midwinter; for the places they select are remote and
lonely. It generally requires one to be absent days,
and from the more open settlements, weeks, to take
them. The hunters lash on their great snow-shoes,
which, like an immense webbed foot, keep them
on the surface; and taking a sled and blankets with
them, start for some deep, dark, and secluded spot
which these animals are known to haunt. By night
they sleep on the snow, wrapped in their blankets;
and when they draw near the place where they expect
to find a “ yard,” the utmost circumspection is used,
and every advance made with the stealthiness of an
Indian. Sometimes a moose will wind his enemies,
and then he is all agitation and excitement; but the
fatal bullet ends at once his troubles and fears, and
his huge carcass is cut up, and the choicest parts car-
ried home on the sled or sleds. Many a crimson spot
is thus left on the snow in this wilderness, aroundPANTHER AND DEER CHASE.
89
which at night the wolves and panthers gather, fill-
ing the solitude with their cries.
Two Indians killed eighteen in this region last
spring, and one hunter told me that he had shot three
in a single day in the early part of March. These
enormous wild cattle are of a black color, and when
closely pressed, will fight desperately. Wolves have
fine picking in deep snow, especially when there is a
stiff crust on the surface. The slender hoof of the
deer, which yard like the moose, cuts through at every
leap, letting them up to the belly without giving firm
ground to spring from, even then; while the broad-
spreading paw of the wolf supports him and he skims
along the surface. In this unequal chase, he soon
overtakes his victim, and devours him. “But the
wildest chase I ever saw,” remarked a hunter to me
once, with whom I was in the forest several days,
“was between a panther and a deer, in the open
woods.” They were not fifteen feet apart, he said,
when they passed him, and such lightning speed he
never before witnessed. Though he had his rifle in
his hand, and they were but a few rods distant when
he saw them, he never thought of firing.
They came and went more like shadows than living90
THE ADIRONDACK.
things. The mouths of both were wile open, and the
tongue of the deer hanging out from fatigue, while
their eyes seemed starting from their sockets—
one from fear, the other from rage. Swift as the
arrow in its flight, and as noiseless, save the strokes
of their rapid bounds on the leaves—they fled away,
and the forest closed over them. Over rocks, and logs,
and streams, that slender and delicate form went fly-
ing on, winged with terror, while, so near that he
almost felt his hot breath on his sides, he heard his
foe pant after him. Ah, hunger will outlive fear, and
before many miles were sped over, that harmless thing
lay gasping in death, and its entrails were torn out
ere the heart had ceased to beat.
And thus, methought, it happens everywhere in
Grod’s universe. Innocence is safe nowhere :—even in
the solitude of the forest—in nature’s sacred temple—
it falls before the power of cruel passion. The hunters
and the hunted come and go like shadows, and the
appealing accents of fear, and the fierce cry of pursuit
or vengeance, ring a moment on the ear, and then are
lost in a solitude deeper than that of the wilderness.
The panther like the lion depends more upon his
first spring than any after effort. Lying close to aA CATAMOUNT.
91
limb, he watches the approach of his victim; then
with a single bound lights upon its back, planting his
claws deep in the quivering flesh. It requires a
strong effort then to shake him off, or loosen his
hold.
His cry of hunger is very much like that of a child
in distress, and is indescribably fearful when heard at
night in the forest. It is seldom, however, that a
traveler sees any of these animals of prey. They are
more afraid of him, than he of them; and winding
him at a long distance, flee to their hiding places.
It is only in winter that they are dangerous. I have
often, however, roused them up by my approach. I
once heard a catamount scream in a thick clump of
bushes not a hundred yards from me—it was just at
twilight, and made me bound to my feet as if struck
by a sudden blow, and sent the blood tingling to the
ends of my toes and fingers. You have heard of elec-
trical shocks, galvanic batteries, etc.—well, ‘their
effects are mere slight nervous stimulants compared to
the wild, unearthly screech of a catamount at night
in the woods. This fellow was not satisfied with one
yell, but moving a little way off, coolly squatted down
and gave another and another, as if enraged at our92
THE ADIRONDACK.
proximity, yet afraid to confront us. They will smell
a human form an inconceivable distance.
On another occasion, if I had had a dog with me, I
should have brought you home a bear skin as a
trophy. I was passing through a heavy windfall,
where berry bushes, &e., had grown up over the
fallen timber, when I suddenly heard a hoarse
“ humph, humph,” and then a crashing through the
bushes. I had come upon a huge bear which was
quietly picking berries. The fellow put off at a tre-
mendous rate, and I after him. I should judge he
was about three hundred yards distant at the outset,
which he soon increased to four hundred. He made
for a swamp which he probably crossed, and climbed
up the steep mountain on the farther side to his den.
When he went down the bank to the swamp, he
showed the size of his track, and he must have been a
rouser. With a dog I should have “ treed” him, and
then he could have been easily shot. The hunter
with me caught one a short time before, in a trap, on
this same mountain. Where two large trees had
fallen across each other so as to make an acute angle,
he placed a piece of meat, and a strong spiked steel
trap directly in front of it, covered over with leaves.TRAPPING A BEAR.
93
The bear of course could not get at the meat without
first stepping over the trap, and as bad luck would
have it, he stepped in. The trap was not fastened in
its place, but attached by a chain to a long stick
—the old fellow therefore traveled off till the clog
caught against a tree. I would not have supposed it
possible that a bear could make such rending work
with his teeth as he did. For six feet upward from
the root, the tree against which he was caught, was
not only peeled of its bark, but the hard fibres were
torn away in large splinters, while the clog itself
was all chewed up, and the ground around furrowed,
in his struggles and rage.
Beavers were once found in abundance here, and
Cheney says he knows where there is a colony of
them now. Otter and sable are now and then taken,
but trappers are fast exterminating the fur tribe.
Yet for game and fish there is no region like it on the
continent.
Yours truly,LAKE HENDERSON---A JULY DAY--A SUNSET, AND EVENING
REVERIE*
My Dear H--------:
I am just recovering from the exhaustion of the
last few days’ tramping, and, quiet and renovat-
ed, enjoy everything around me. On the banks of
Lake Henderson—a charming sheet of water—
I have been reclining for hours, drinking in the
fresh breeze at every inspiration. It is a summer
afternoon, and I know by the atmosphere that
veils these mountain tops, and the force of the sun
when I step out of the shade, that it is a hot
July day. At this very* moment, while I am
stretched at my ease, watching the still lake,
and those two deer that for the last hour havefoonouMO'.LAKE HENDERSON.
95
been wading along the farther shore, drinking the
cool water, and nibbling the long grass that
skirts the bank, and lazily beating off the flies,
you are sauntering up Broadway, or, perhaps, have
just returned from a stroll in Union Park, and
are wooing the sea breeze, that, entering the city
at the Battery, is gently diffusing itself through
every street and alley. Ah, that sea breeze is the
only salvation of New York. After a hot, pant-
ing day, when the fiery pavements and red brick
walls have concentrated and redoubled the heat,
how refreshingly, and like a good angel, comes
that, at first slight, but gradually increasing sea-
wind, to the fevered system. Moist from its long
dalliance with the salt waves, its kiss is soft and
welcome as that of a ------- I beg your pardon, I
meant to say, as a doctor once remarked to me,
“it is a very pleasant stimulant.” Yet I know
Broadway is looking like a furnace just cooled off;
and with all your windows and doors thrown
open, you are still languid, while a sultry and op-
pressive night awaits you. I pity you from my heart;
you have been in Wall street the whole of this scorch-
ing day, and have not drawn a breath below your96
THE ADIRONDACK.
throat, for the air you live on was never made for the
lungs.
You are pale and exhausted, while now and then
comes over you, a sweet vision of rushing streams
and waving tree tops, and cool floods of air. I see
you in imagination, flung at full length upon the sofa,
and hear that expression of impatience which escapes
your lips. But here it is delicious—my lungs heave
freely and strongly, and every moment refreshes in-
stead of enervates me. Before me spreads away this
beautiful lake, shaped like a tea leaf, while all along
the green shores and up the greener mountain side,
there is a barely perceptible motion among the leaves,
as if they were so many living things stirring about
upon a carpet of velvet. Farther on, the Adirondack
Pass lifts its startling cliff into the air, and farther
still the solemn mountains stand bathed in the splen-
dor of the departing sun. The placid surface before
me is now and then broken by the leap of a trout as
some poor fly ventures too near where he swims—but
all else is still and calm. Oh, that I could catch the
shadows of thoughts and feelings that flit over me.
There is an atmosphere of beauty around my spirit,
that fills me with a thousand sweet but vague visions.SUNSET.
97
There is something I would grasp and retain, but
cannot—would speak, but have not the power to utter
it. The soul is powerless to act and,
“ Dizzy and drunk with beauty, reels
In its fullness.”
Just look at the glorious orb of day as it rolls down
that distant mountain slope, into the gorge which
seems made on purpose to receive it. Lower and
and lower sinks the fiery circle, till at last it disap-
pears, leaving an ocean of flame where it stood, while
dark shadows begin to creep over the lake and shores.
On the mountains, there is a bright line of light
which slowly ascends as if striving to linger around
the loveliness below. Inch by inch it creeps upward,
growing brighter as it rises, till at length the highest
summit is reached—irradiated and forsaken. Its last
baptism was on that bald peak which blazed up a
moment like an altar-fire to G-od, then sunk in dark-
ness^—and now the pall of night is slowly drawn over
all.
Thus, my friend, did this July evening pass with
me, and with a sigh over the gorgeous dream that had
vanished, I turned away. Though the night was
598
THE ADIRONDACK.
lovely with its stars and sky, which seemed doubly
brilliant in contrast with the black mountain masses
that shut out half the heavens; yet the dash of a
stream over its broken channel, and the hoot of the
distant owl conspired to give a loneliness to the scene
the former could not enliven. I thought of home, and
those I loved—of life and its lights and shadows—of
death and its deeper mysteries—of the far world be-
yond the stars, and that “ palace” to which “ even
the bright sun itself is but a porch lamp.”
But these reveries will not fit me for to-morrow’s
toil, and so good-night to you.
Yours truly.XL
TAHAWUS WITH THE CLOUDS BELOW IT----A HARD TRAMP
--A PLANK BED ON THE BOREAS RIVER-----A SORRY
COMPANY TRAVELING AFTER A BREAKFAST.
Backwoods, July.
Dear H------:
There is a path across the mountains to the road
that leads into the centre of this vast plateau, and to
the lake region. But I am going out to a settlement
before I start for that still more untrodden field, filled
with scenes far more beautiful. This is the last
morning I shall, probably, ever look on the summit of
Tahawus. You cannot conceive what an affection
one has for a majestic old mountain few have ever
ascended, and on whose top he himself has stood.
For six years not a foot has profaned this almost inac-
cessible peak, and I feel as if I had paid a visit to a
hermit and left him in his solitude, thinking over the100
THE ADIRONDACK.
interview which had broken up the monotony of
his existence.
Clouds are rolling around him to-day, and I think of
what Prof. Benedict, of Burlington, told me. He
ascended it once for scientific purposes, and made
experiments on the top which have been of great
service to the State. He said that the spectacle from
it one morning in a northeast storm, was sublime
beyond description. He was in the clear sunlight,
while an ocean of clouds rolled on below him in vast
white undulations, blotting out the whole creation
from his view. At length, under the influence of the
sun, this limitless deep slowly rent asunder, and the
black top of a mountain emerged like an island from
the mighty mass, and then another and another, till
away, for more than three hundred miles in circum-
ference, these black conical islands were sprinkled over
the white bosom of the vapory sea. The lower por-
tions of the mountains then appeared, while the mist
collected in the deep gulfs, and lay like a vast ser-
pent over the bed of a river, that wound through the
forest below, or shot up into fantastic shapes, re-
sembling towers and domes, and cliffs, and clouds,
forming, and shifting, and changing in bewilderingCLOUDS BELOW TAHAWUS.
101
confusion. It is impossible to conceive anything half
so strange and wild.
It seemed as if
“ A single step had freed one from the skirts
Of the blind vapor—opened to the view
Glory beyond all glory ever seen
By waking sense, or by the dreaming soul.
»V-.	^
7T	W	7?	7?	7?
Oh, ’twas an unimaginable sight;
Clouds, mists, streams, waters, rocks, and emerald turf;
Clouds of all tincture, rocks, and sapphire sky,
Confused, commingled, mutually inflamed,
Molten together, and composing thus,
Each lost in each, a marvellous array
Of temple, palace, citadel, and huge
Fantastic pomp of structure without name,
In fleecy folds voluminous enwrapped.
Such by the Hebrew prophets were beheld
In vision—forms uncouth of mightiest power,
For admiration and mysterious awe.”
We had engaged a teamster to come on a certain
day and take us out to the settlements. He, however,
did not make his appearance ; and so, after a fatiguing
tramp of twelve miles in the morning, we concluded
to set out on foot, hoping to meet him somewhere in102
THE ADIRONDACK.
the woods. But in this we were disappointed, and
therefore traveled on until the shades of evening be-
gan to gather over the forest, admonishing us to seek
a place of rest for the night. We had now gone six-
teen miles from Adirondack, which, added to the
twelve miles in the morning, made nearly thirty miles
—a severe day’s work. Twilight brought us to the
Boreas River, and here we found a log shanty, which
some timber cutters had put up the winter before, and
deserted in the spring. It was a lonely looking thing,
dilapidated and ruinous, with some straw below, and a
few loose boards laid across the logs above by way of a
chamber. I expected to have had some trout for sup-
per, for a young clergyman who had joined us a day
or two before, said that on his way up he took sixteen
out of one pool as fast as he could cast his line. But
it was nearly dark when we reached the river, and so,
kindling a blazing fire outside, we dined on our last
provisions, and turned in. As I said, only a few boards
were laid across the logs above, leaving the rest of the
loft perfectly open. By getting on a sort of scaffold-
ing, and reaching the timbers overhead, we were able
to swing ourselves up on the scanty platform. After
I succeeded in gaining this perch, I helped the othersA PLANK BED.
103
up; but the clergyman was rather too heavy, and just
as he had fairly landed on the boards, one gave way,
and down he went. I seized him by the collar, while
he, with one hand fastened to my leg, and with the
other grasped a timber, and thus succeeded in arrest-
ing his fall, and probably saved himself a broken
limb.
We lay in a row on our backs along this frail scaf-
folding, filling it up from end to end, so that, if the
outside ones should roll a half a yard in their sleep,
they would be precipitated below. A more uncom-
fortable night I never passed; and after a short and
troubled sleep, I lay and watched the chinks in the
roof, for daylight to appear, till it seemed that
morning would never come. I resolved never again
to abandon my couch of leaves for boards, and a
ruined hut through which vermin swarmed in such
freedom, that I dreamed I had turned into a spider,
and speculated a long time on my unusual quantity
of legs, endeavoring in vain to ascertain their respec-
tive uses.
At length the welcome light broke slowly over the
still forest, and I turned out. Huge stones and
billets of wood hurled on the roof soon brought forth104
THE ADIRONDACK.
the rest of our companions, and we started off. We
had nothing to eat, and seven weary miles were to be
measured before we could reach the nearest clearing.
What with the night I had passed, and that seven
miles’ tramp on an empty stomach, I was completely
knocked up. The clear morning air could not revive
me—my rifle seemed to weigh fifty pounds—my legs
a hundred and fifty, and I pushed on, more dead than
alive. At length we emerged into a clearing, and
there, in a log hut, sat our teamster, quietly eating
his breakfast. The day before, he had started through
the forest; but becoming frightened at the wildness
and desolation that increased at every step, had turned
back—choosing to leave us to our fate rather than
run the risk of making a meal for wolves and bears.
I could have seen him flogged with a good will, I was
so indignant. Hungry, cross, and weary, we sat down
to breakfast, and then stowed ourselves away into a
lumber wagon, and rode thirty miles to our respective
stopping-places. The little settlement seemed like a
large village to me, and the inhabitants the most re-
fined I had ever met.
Several days’ rest here has restored me, and I be-
gin to feel my system rally, and am conscious ofA BREAKFAST WELL EARNED.
105
strength and vitality to which I have been a stranger
for six months.
I shall remain here a few days, and then start for
the lake region—the only land route to which is a
rude road ending at Long Lake. The Adirondack
chain subsides away there into more regular ridges—it
is, however, wilder than the region I have left, and
we shall have to rely for food on what we ourselves
can catch and kill.
Yours truly,XII.
A THUNDER STORM----A SOLUTION OP LIFE.
Backwoods, July 12.
Dear E------:
Thunder storms are not particularly pleasant things
in the woods, but you are now and then compelled to
take them. I have just passed through one, and, like
all grand exhibitions of nature, they awaken pleasure
in the midst of discomfort. I have never witnessed
anything sublime, even though dangerous, that did
not possess attractions, except standing on the deck
of a ship in the midst of a storm, and looking off
on the ocean. The wild and guideless waves run-
ning half-mast high, shaking their torn plumes as
they come—the turbulent and involved clouds—
the shrieks of the blast amid the cordage, and groans
of the ship, combine to make one of the most awful
soenes in nature. Yet I loathe it and loathe my-A THUNDER STORM.
107
self as I stand or try to stand, reeling to and fro,
holding on to a belaying pin or rope, for support.
But give me firm footing, and I love the sea. I
don’t believe Byron ever thought of writing about it
till he got on shore. The idea of a man thinking,
much less making poetry while he is staggering like a
drunken man, is preposterous.
But I like to have forgot myself—I was reclining
on the slope of a hill the other day, near a lake,
from which I had a glorious view of the broken
chain of the Adirondack. From the ravishing beauty
of the scene, my mind, as it is wont, fell to musing
over this mysterious life of ours—on its strange con-
trasts and stranger destinies, and I wondered how its
selfishness and sorrow, blindness and madness, pains
and death, could add to the glory of God; or how
angels could look on this world without turning away,
half in sorrow and half in anger, at such a blemished
universe, when suddenly, over the green summit of the
far mountain, a huge thunder-head pushed itself into
view. As the mighty black mass that followed slowly
after, forced its way into the heavens, darkness began
to creep over the earth. The song of birds was
hushed—the passing breeze paused a moment, and108
THE ADIRONDACK.
then swept by in a sudden gust, which whirled the
leaves and withered branches in wild confusion
through the air. An ominous hush succeeded, while
the low growl of the distant thunder seemed forced
from the deepest caverns of the mountain.
I lay and watched the gathering elements of
strength and fury, as the trumpet of the storm sum-
moned them to battle, till at length the lightning be-
gan to leap in angry flashes to the earth from the
dark womb of the cloud, followed by those awful and
rapid reports that seemed to shake the very walls of
the sky. The pine trees rocked and roared above me
—for wrath and rage had taken the place of beauty
and placidity—and then the rain came in headlong
masses to the earth. Keeping under my shelter of
bark, I listened to the uproar without, as I had often
done under an Alpine cliff in the Oberland, waiting
for the passage of the storm. In a short time its fury
was spent, and I could hear its retiring roar in the
distant gorges. The trees stopped knocking their
green crowns together, and stood again in fraternal
embrace, while the rapid dripping of the heavy rain
drops from the leaves, alone told of the deluge that
had swept overhead. I stole forth again, and but forTHE RIDDLE OF LIFE.
109
this ceaseless drip, and the freshened look of every-
thing about me in the clearer atmosphere, I should
hardly have known there hai been a change.
Scarce a half hour had elapsed—yet there the blue
sky showed itself again over the mountain where
the dark cloud had been—the sun came forth in re-
doubled splendor, and the tumult was over. Now
and then a disappointed peal was heard slowly
traveling over the sky, as if conscious it came too
late to share the conflict; but all else was calm,
and tranquil, and beautiful, as nature ever is after a
thunder-storm. But while I lay watching that blue
arch, against which the tall mountain, now greener
than ever, seemed to lean; suddenly a single circular
white cloud appeared over the top, and slowly rolled
into view, and floated along the radiant west.
Bathed in the rich sunset—glittering like a white
robe—how beautiful! how resplendent! A moving
glory, it looked as if some angel-hand had just rolled
it away from the golden gate of heaven. I watched
it till my spirit longed to fly away and sink in its
bright foldings. And then I thought were I in the
midst of it, it would be found a heavy bank of fog—
damp and chill like the morning mist, which obscures110
THE ADIRONDACK.
the vision and ruffles the spirit, till it prays for one
straggling sunbeam to disperse the gloom. But seen
at that distance—shone upon by that setting sun—
how glorious! And here, methought, I had a solution
of my mystery of life. With its agitations and
changes—its blasphemies and songs—its revelries and
violence—its light and darkness—its ecstasies and
agonies—its life and death—so strangely blent—it is
a mist, a gloomy fog, that chills and wearies us as
we walk in its midst. Dimming our prospect, it
shuts out the spiritual world beyond us, till we weep
and pray for the rays of heaven to disperse the gloom.
But seen by angels and spiritual beings from afar—
shone upon by God's perfect government and grand
designs of love—it may, and doubtless does, appear
as glorious as that evening cloud to me. The bright-
ness of the throne is cast over us, and its glory
changes this turbulent scene into a harmonious part
of his vast whole. “ God’s ways are not as our ways,
neither are his thoughts as our thoughts.” After it
has all passed, and the sun of futurity breaks on the
scene, light and gladness will bathe it in undying
splendor.A LESSON FROM NATURE.
Ill
I turned away with that summer cloud fastened in
my memory forever, and thankful for the thunder-
storm that had taught my heart so sweet a lesson.
Yours truly,I
XIII.
A RIDE THROUGH THE FOREST---A LEAN DINNER--CHE-
NEY’S COUSIN-SWIMMING A LAKE WITH HORSES.
Backwoods, August.
Dear H-----:
I am off again for the woods—resolved to penetrate
to the heart of this wild country, whose scenery can-
not he matched this side of the Alps. For fifty miles,
we can with care go on horseback, and then we must
be our own beasts of burden.
Our company consists of five—a young clergyman,
whom I persuaded to try bivouacking in the forest, in-
stead of lounging at Saratoga Springs for his health,
R,—ffe, formerly a merchant in Maiden Lane, but now
a thorough backwoodsman, cutting down forests and
putting up mills, &c., and Doctor T—11, and young
P-----.
It was a bright morning, as, mounted on freshLUNCHING WITHOUT FOOD.
113
horses, with our rifles on our shoulders, we passed
from the more open settlements, which gradually
grew thinner and wilder, and entered the unbroken
forest. In the trouble we were at to obtain an extra
horse, and afterwards a saddle, we forgot to take pro-
visions for the way; so, after traveling for nearly thirty
miles, we found ourselves on the banks of the Boreas
River, (our old friend, with whom we encamped a
week or two since, some thirty miles to the north-
east,) weary and hungry, and twelve miles of forest to
the nearest clearing. It was now one o’clock, and we
had been in the saddle since early in the morning.
Our horses needed food and rest, so did we; but the
former was easier obtained for our beasts than for us.
Taking off their saddles and tying them head and foot
to prevent them from straying away, we turned them
loose, to browse in the forest. W—d hunted around
for berries to allay his hunger, while the doctor smok-
ed his pipe and chewed spruce gum which he peeled
from the trees, by way of stomach-stayers. R—ffe
and myself thought of trying the trout; but the
heavily timbered and tangled banks forbade all access
to the stream except by plunging in. Hungrier than I
ever remember to have been before, I floundered114
THE ADIRONDACK.
through the woods down the stream, seeking in vain
for an opening; until, driven to desperation, I jumped
in. But fly fishing with a crooked and green stick is
rather unsatisfactory business, and though raising
some twenty, I succeeded in taking only one, and he
of small dimensions. Just as I had got him nicely
stowed away in my pocket, a rifle shot—the signal to
return—called me back. "When I reached our resting
place, I found my companions all in the saddle and
ready for departure. “What!” said I, “are you
going?” “Yes, let us hurry on!” “Not I,” I re-
plied, “till I devour this trout, for between my long
ride and fast, and the effort to catch him, I am on the
extreme limit of starvation. Come, doctor, strike me
a fire while I dress him.” So the doctor kindled
a blaze, while I cut off the trout’s head on a stone,
and spitted him on a stick, ready for roasting. A few
minutes in the blaze rendered him fit for my not over-
nice palate, and I chewed him with a vigor I had
never before exhibited, and when his tail finally dis-
appeared, I heaved a sigh like one whose days of hap-
piness are over. I looked around in despair, for there
was nothing else eatable to be seen; so mounting
my steed, I pushed on after the rest of the company.nature’s temple.
115
Straggling on in Indian file, we went in a sort of
hurry scurry through the woods, saying nothing, but
each one evidently aware that he could not get to a
supper too soon. Over mountains and across swamps,
through a break in the Adirondack chain, which we
here again struck; we urged on our jaded animals,
with naught but the rush of the wild bird’s wing, and
the scared look of the pheasant or the djeer, as he hur-
ried from our path, to break the monotony of the ride.
Yet this traveling along a narrow path in the forest is
a right kingly march. Only think of riding all day
through a magnificent colonnade, the columns lifting
a hundred feet above your head, and crowned with
Corinthian capitals, made after a richer model than
the acanthus leaf. How the soul awakes in this new
existence, and casting off the fetters that has bound
it, rejoices in broader liberty, and leaps with a new,
exultant feeling. The green, moving arch over your
head does not confine you as it sheds down its fresh-
ness and fragrance on the path, for it reveals between
its glorious fret-work of leaves and twigs a limitless
dome beyond, that carries away the soul to farther,
freer, brighter regions. Oh ! how I love the glorious
woods, and the sense of freedom they bring. How116
THE ADIRONDACK.
can one stay where he is cheated, exasperated, slan-
dered, and mortified, when he has the broad forest to
rejoice in, and such companions only as his own choice
may select ?
Towards night, we came to a clearing, the five
families of which composed the entire town. Just
before sunset, our host, a cousin of Cheney, and my-
self, went to a lake close by, on the opposite shore of
which two deer were quietly grazing. Stepping into
a boat, we endeavored to get within shot, but a loon
a little way off, kept up such a loud and continual
scream, that they were more than usually cautious,
and soon moved away. Cheney had a huge black dog
with which I became on the most intimate terms,
much to the surprise of his master who declared he
had never before seen him so playful with a stranger.
I told him I did not doubt it, for hunters had often
made the same remark to me, but that I prided my-
self on only one quality—the power to win the love of
children and dogs. He said he was an excellent dog
for bears, and only a few months before attacked one
on the side-hill opposite the house, and kept him ai
bay all day. Soon as Bruin attempted to run he
would fasten on his haunches, thus compelling him toSIGN FOR HIGHWAY.
117
turn and fight. Cheney was away at the time—but
on returning at evening, he heard his dog barking
furiously in the woods, and taking down his rifle,
went to him, and shot the bear.
Next morning we plunged again into the forest, and
as we rode along, I noticed trees at certain intervals,
marked “ H,” which, after vainly attempting to ac-
count for, I finally enquired the reason of. “ Oh, it
means highway,” was the reply. This was a rather
comical mode of telling one he was on the highway,
still I was thankful for the information. In another
place we came upon fires built over a huge rock in
the middle of the track, compelling us to take a semi-
circle in the woods. On inquiring the cause of this,
to me, singular procedure, I was told that settlers,
hired by the State, were working on the road, and in
the absence of drills, took this method of breaking the
rocks to pieces. Being sand-stone, the fire slowly
crumbled them apart, so that the crowbar or lever
could remove them. I thought of Hannibal, and his
fire and vinegar on the rocks of the San Bernard; and
men seemed going back to their primitive state. In-
stead of cutting down the trees that stood in the way,
they hewed off the roots, and then hitching a rope to118
THE ADIRONDACK.
the tops, pulled them over with oxen. And thus
they work and toil away here in the woods—yet not
wholly heedless of the great world without. How
strange it seems to behold men thus occupied—living
contentedly fifty miles from a post office or village—
and hear their inquiries about the war with Mexico,
asking of events that have been forgotten months ago
in New York!
The path grew rapidly worse as we proceeded—in
some places endangering the limbs of our animals, and
indeed our own necks. Sometimes we were up to the
girths in a morass, and again leaping a huge tree—
but at last we arrived at Long Lake, and it was lite-
rally reaching the end of the journey. The path as we
approached the shore, had dwindled to a mere Indian-
trail, and there entirely disappeared. With no road
around, and no sign of life in sight, save a solitary log
hut on the farther side of the lake, we waded up and
down the shore till stopped by the rooks—looking in
vain for some way of escape. Just then a flock of
wild ducks shot out of a small bay at our feet, when
crack! crack! went our rifles. The next moment a
boat put off from the opposite shore, rowed by a boy.
“ Where is the path,” was our inquiry as he ap-SWIMMING HORSES.
119
proached, “ that leads along the lake to some clear-
ing ?”	“ You can’t go,” was the reply, “ there hain’t
none.” “ But what shall we do with our horses ?” “ I
don’t know.”—After planning awhile, we concluded to
fasten them in the woods, and bring over grass in the
boat. So, tying them to the trees, and hanging our
saddles on the branches, we crossed over. With all
Hamilton County for a stable, our jaded animals
passed the first night.
But carrying provender across the lake took up too
much time, and therefore the next morning we con-
cluded, after a long consultation, to swim them over.
W------d first rode his powerful black horse, which the
day before, by his amazing strength, had saved him
from a broken neck or limb, into the lake. The noble
animal was accustomed to the swamps and the forest,
but not to deep water, and he sunk almost to his ears.
W------d, somewhat frightened, as he found himself
submerged to the armpits, began to pull sharply on
the rein, which brought the horse nearly perpendicu-
lar in the water, with his fore feet pawing the air.
The more erect the poor animal stood, the harder he
was forced to pull the rein to keep from sliding off.
Looking up, I saw his danger—for, thrown backward120
THE ADIRONDACK.
so by the bit, the struggling animal would, in a
minute more, have fallen over upon him. I shouted
out, “ Let go the rein instantly, and grasp the mane!”
He did so, and the horse relieved from the strain on
his head, righted himself and brought his rider safely
to the shore. In swimming the lake, however, he
sunk to his ears, and groaned and grunted with every
stroke. Another would not swim at all; but the mo-
ment he got beyond his depth, flung himself upon his
side compelling us to hold his head on the stern of
the boat and tow him across. The rest took to their
work more kindly, especially a sorrel mare, which
swam without an effort—the ridge of her back just
skimming the surface, and her motion easy and steady
as that of a swing.
We were right glad to reach the opposite forest;—
and dragging our dripping beasts up the rocky bank,
threaded our way to the only hut we had seen since
morning.
Yours, &c.XIV.
CAMPING GROUND---MITCHEL THE INDIAN GUIDE---TROUT
FISHING ON A LARGE SCALE----NIGHT.
Long Lake, Aug. 10.
Dear H------:
Let me introduce you to our camp. It is a little
after noon, and a most lovely day, and there, at the
foot of the lake, back a few rods, in the forest, is
burning a camp-fire. On a stick that is thrust into
the ground and leans over a log, hangs a small kettle
of potatoes—a little one side is suspended to a tree a
noble buck just dressed, some of the nicest bits of
which are already roasting in a pan over the fire. In
a low shantee, made of hemlock bark, entirely open in
front, lazily recline the young clergyman and the doc-
tor, watching with most satisfied looks the cooking of
the savory venison. On the other side are stretched
the weary hounds in profound slumber. An old
6122
THE ADIRONDACK.
hunter is watching, with knife in hand, the progress of
a johnny-cake he is baking in the ashes, giving every
now and then a most comical hitch to his waistbands
while, as if to keep up the balance, one whole side of
his face twitches at the same time. Close by him is
my Indian guide whom I obtained yesterday, coldly
scrutinizing my new modeled rifle. Taciturn and
emotionless as his race always are, he neither smiles
nor speaks.
Knowing that his curiosity was excited, I remarked,
“ Mitchell, I wish you would try my rifle, for I have
some doubts whether it is perfectly correct.” With-
out saying a word, he took up an axe, and going to a
distant tree struck out a chip, leaving a white spot.
Returning as silent as he went, he raised my gun to
his face, where it rested for a moment immovable as
stone, then spoke sharp and quick through the forest.
The bullet struck the white spot in the centre. He
handed back the rifle without uttering a word—that
shot was a better comment on its correctness than
anything he could say.
Our venison and johnny-cake and potatoes were
at length done ; and each of us peeling off a bit
of clean hemlock bark for a plate, we sat downA DINNER SCENE.
123
on the leaves, and placing our bark dishes across
our legs, with a sharp stick in one hand for a fork,
and our pocket knives in the other, commenced
our repast. I have dined in palaces, hotels, and
amid ancient ruins, but never so right royally before.
We were kings here, with our rifles by our side, and
no one to dispute our sway ; and then such a palace
of countless columns encompassing us, while the
gentle murmur of the tiny wave as it laid its cheek
on the smooth pebbles below, made harmony with the
refreshing breeze that rustled in the tree tops and
lifted the ashes of our already smouldering camp fire.
I thought last winter, at the Carlton House, that the
venison made a dish that might please a gourmet, but
it was tasteless, savorless, compared to this venison,
cut off from the freshly killed carcass, and roasted in
the open forest. A clear stream near by furnished us
with a richer beverage than wine ; while the fresh air,
and gleaming lake, and sweet islands sleeping on its
bosom, gave to the spirits a healthier excitement than
society.
After the repast was finished, we stretched our-
selves along the ground and smoked our cigars, and
talked awhile of trout and deer and bears and124
THE ADIRONDACK.
wolves and moose. At length the Indian arose and
made preparations for departure. Taking our rifles
and fishing tackle, we pushed our boats into the lake,
and made for Raquette River, the outlet of the lake,
and thence into Cold River.
I wish I could give you some conception of this
stream. At this season of the year it is almost as
moveless as a pond, while its waters are clear as fluid
crystal, revealing a smooth and pebbly bottom. The
shores of both the rivers are all trodden over with
moose and deer and bear tracks. During the after-
noon we had endeavored to take some trout, of
which Mitchell told me the river was full. But the
unruffled surface of the stream, combined with its
pellucid waters, and an unclouded sun, made every
fish fly to his lurking place long before we got sight
of him. Under the deep shadow of an overhanging
and wooded bank, Mitchell at length took one, while
I had the pleasure of seeing a two pounder rise to my
fly with open mouth and dilated eyes; but just as he
was going to snap it, he caught a glimpse of us, and
darted like a flash of lightning to the bottom, from
whence no after-coaxing could lure him. But as the
sun went down I had better success. Being the onlyTROUT FISHING.
125
one who used a fly, I took all the trout. They were,
however, of a small size and difficult to hook, for I
had nothing but a common pole cut from the forest,
on which to rig my line. I had left my light and
delicate rod in the settlements, as I should advise
every one to do, who endeavors to penetrate this path-
less region. When one is compelled to carry his own
rifle, overcoat, and underclothing, and sometimes his
cooking utensils, and that, too, with a walk of
twenty miles on a stretch before him, he would do
well not to lumber himself up with fishing rods.
But when the sun at length totally disappeared be-
hind the mountains, and the surface of Cold River,
overshadowed by an impenetrable forest, became black
as ink, the trout left their retreats; and in a short
time the water was in a foam with their constant
leaping. Where but a short time before we had
passed, looking down through the clear depths
without seeing a single finny rover, now there
seemed an innumerable multitude. Here a sudden
bold bound—there a long shoot as a fierce fellow
swept along after a large fly, kept the bosom of the
stream in a bubble. The Indian and my companions
had stiff* poles, cord lines, and large hooks, with a126
THE ADIRONDACK.
piece of raw venison for bait. This they would
“ skitter” along the surface, and the moment it
caught the eye of a trout, away he would rush with a
leap and plunge after it. I found that my light tackle
was entirely out of place in this new mode of fishing,
for while I was drowning one big fellow, those in the
boat with me would take half a dozen. Besides the
time for fishing was short, for twilight had already
settled on the forest—and so, after in my hurry break-
ing two or three snells, I, too, rigged on a cord line,
big hook, and piece of venison. I never saw anything
like it in my life—it was a constant leap, roll, and
plunge there around our lines—and some of them
such immense fellows for brook trout. In a half an
hour we took at least a half a bushel, many of them
weighing three pounds, and few less than a pound.
At length, however, it became too dark to fish, and
a single rifle shot of the Indian recalling our scat-
tered boats, we started for the camp.
Turning the head of our boat, we drifted down to
Raquette River, and then pulled for the lake. This
was a mile of hard rowing, and it was late before we
reached the outlet. One skiff having started sooner
than we, was already at the camp—the cheerful fireA TROUT SUPPER.
127
of which burst on us through the trees as we rounded
a point of the outlet, and shot upon the bosom of the
quiet lake. “ Look, R,—ffe,” I exclaimed, “ yonder
is the camp fire, and now another light moves down
to the beach, where they are dressing the trout for
supper.” He sprang to the oars, and the light boat
fled like a wild deer toward that cheerful flame.
Islands and rocks flew by, and under a cloudless sky,
and myriads of bright and glorious stars, we sped
gaily on, till, at length, the boat grated on the pebbly
beach, and a joyous shout that made the solemn old
forest ring, went up from the camp and shore. In a
moment all was bustle and preparation for supper, and
the noblest dish of trout I ever ate I took there by
fire light in the woods. My appetite, it is true, was
sharp, and we made a sad inroad into our pile of
fish.
After supper we lay around in every variety of
attitude upon the dry earth, lazily snuffing up the fra-
grance of the woods, and looking off on the still sur-
face of the lake in whose clear depths the stars of
heaven stood trembling, and listening to wild hunting
stories, interspersed now and then with flashes of
broad humor, till at length the deep breathing of the128
THE ADIRONDACK.
Indian admonished us that we, too, needed repose to
prepare us for the toils of the next day. We did not
retire to our rooms and blow out the lights, but
spreading a blanket on the earth and leaves, stretched
ourselves upon it in a row, and with our feet to the
blazing fire, composed ourselves to rest—that is, all
the party but myself. I sat up for some time by
the crackling fire, and watched the others as they
dropped one after another to sleep, until exhausted
and weary, I also stretched myself beside the Indian
with a log for my pillow, between two knots of which
I placed my head to keep it from rolling.
A little after midnight I awoke—the wind had
shifted to the east, and was blowing strong and chill,
sending a rapid swell on the beach, and a loud mur-
mur though the cedar tops overhead. The fire had
died away, except a few smouldering brands, while
the bright stars, those ceaseless watchers, looked
kindly down from their high sentinel posts in heaven.
The wild and lonely scream of the northern diver,
came at intervals through the darkness, as he floated
far away on the water; and night, solemn night, with
the great forest, was around me. I strolled down to
the lake shore, and let the breeze fall on my feveredA SUDDEN WAKE-UP.
129
head, while the glimmer of the dying embers of our
camp-fire through the trees rendered the scene doubly
lonely. I returned, and seizing the axe, soon had a
bright and crackling fire sending its light over the
sleepers. The sparks, borne higher and higher by the
wind, danced about in the forest, and shed a clear
light on a noble white hound that lay sleeping in
careless ease at the foot of a tree. Tall trunks stood
column-like and still, on every side—gradually grow-
ing dimmer and dimmer, till lost in a mass of black-
ness, and contrasting strangely with the motion and
roar of the tops, through which the wind swept in fitful
gusts. Again I stretched myself on the ground, and
woke no more till light was dawning in the east, and
then with a shudder and start as though a tomahawk
were gleaming over my head. The Indian’s dog had
crawled upon me, and lay heavily along my body, his
head resting on my bosom, his mouth to my mouth,
while a low growl which issued from his chest,
startled the Indian by my side. I never was so struck
with the alertness of an Indian. I am not slow to
wake myself, especially in a case like this; but
before I opened my eyes, Mitchell was on his feet;
and as I looked up, I saw him standing over me with
6*130
THE ADIRONDACK.
his piercing black eye fixed on the dog. “ Be still!”
he exclaimed, and then, as if talking to himself,
added, “it is strange, but he is watching you, he
smelt danger.” His keen nose probably winded some
wild animal prowling about our camp—attracted
thither by the savory smell of venison. I gently car-
essed the noble fellow, and rose from my hard couch.
The whole group were standing listlessly around the
fire, yawning and stretching, while the few jokes that
were cracked created only a mockery of laughter.
Yours truly.A CAMP SCENE IN THE MORNING-----A SHOT AT AN EAGLE
--A DEER CHASE.
Long Lake, August 1.
Dear H-----:
My last left us yawning and stretching around our
camp fire a little after daylight in the morning, look-
ing and feeling stupid and heavy—but a fresh wash
in a mountain rill near by restored us to life, while
the answers to the inquiries how each other had slept,
brought back the merriment that seldom flags in
the woods. “Well, R—ffe, how did you sleep?”
“ Pretty well, only H— kept punching me to keep me
off from him.” “And how did you sleep, H—?”
“ As I’ll never sleep again. I was on the lower hill-
side, and served as a block to the whole of you. You
rolled down against me and wedged me in so tight
that I couldn’t, with my utmost effort, turn over, to132
THE ADIRONDACK.
save my life.” “ Mr. W—d, was you broke of your,
rest ?” a No: I slept pretty well, considering the
circumstances.” Turning to Mr. P—, I remarked,
“ Well, Mr. P—, I saw you get up once when I rose
to put some wood upon the foe. You lay rolled up in
your blanket like a mummy, while the sparks from
the fire fell in a shower upon you. I thought you
would find it rather too hot before morning.” “I
don’t remember getting up at all,” he replied ; “ proba-
bly the roaring fire you made did cause the smoke to
choke me. I never waked but once, and then I was
startled by the sound of an axe; I opened my eyes,
and saw you splitting down the stump—the root of
which I had made my pillow—directly over my head.”
This, of course, I stoutly denied, amidst the uproari-
ous laugh of the company. I then remembered the
frightened look he gave me, as I was cutting into a
stump near by him, and in the next moment roll
rapidly in his blanket down the hill. The suddenness
and oddity of the movement surprised me at the time,
but now it was all explained. In his half-wakened
state, he saw the bit of my axe gleaming in the fire
light, and thought it was descending directly onSHOT AT AN EAGLE.
133
his skull. No wonder he performed those sudden
evolutions !
At length Mitchell having finished his pipe, called
to the hounds, “ Come, Rover, come Maj,” and with
shouldered rifle moved down to the shore. The night
before, as we sat around the camp fire, we bid for the
first fire at the deer we should start in the morning.
I outbid the rest, when Mitchell dryly remarked, “ I’ll
take you in my boat.” He had not forgotten Iiis
promise, or rather the reward, and so beckoning to me,
we started off. After rowing a mile or two, we
landed the old hunter and the dogs, who soon disap-
peared in the forest. Just then, Mitchell pointed to a
lofty pine tree, towering above the surrounding forest,
on an upper limb of which sat a grey eagle in her
nest. “ I believe I’ll try to get a shot at her,” said
he, and started off. With the stealthiness of his race,
he crept and dodged through the woods till I thought
he never would shoot, I watched the noble bird
through my glass, and could see her head ever and
anon turn quickly as she heard the snapping of a
stick, or rustling of a leaf, which Mitchell with all his
care could not prevent, till, at length, rising on her134
THE ADIRONDACK.
nest, she cast her piercing eye on every side, and then
detecting the danger, gathered her strong pinions and
soared away. Wheeling round and round the place
of her young, she finally stooped on the top of an
immense pine tree. Again and again she rose and
circled away, and then alighted where she could
overlook her offspring. She had discovered the In-
dian, but the love of her young was stronger than her
fear, and she would not leave them. At length the
sharp crack of a rifle rang though the woods, and the
noble bird, unscathed, rose and sailed over where I
stood. I lifted my rifle and again let it fall, saying to
myself, “ This time, at least, you shall not fall a
victim to parental love.” Mitchell soon joined me,
and I remarked, “Well, you missed her.” “Yes, it
wants close squinting to pick one off from the top of
such a pine as that.”
Pushing off, we rowed over to an island where we
could have a fair view of the lake on every side, and
awaited the deer ; and here I felt some of the miseries
of a hunter’s life. A cold east wind swept the bosom
of the lake, and I sat and shivered, thinking there
would be vastly more poetry in staying by the camp-A DEER CHASE.
135
fire, and eating venison already killed, than waiting
for that which was yet running on the mountain.
Mitchell climbed a cedar and stood looking over
the broken top to catch the first cry of the hounds
as they opened on the track, while I sat with my
back against a hemlock, my rifle across my lap,
and my coat collar turned up over my ears, wish-
ing it was over with, and thinking the while of
breakfast, as my eye turned ever and anon, most
wistfully down the lake, where R--------ffe was row-
ing backwards and forwards from the camp to a
rock in the water, on which we had spread our
venison, killed the day before. The dry east wind
proved too strong—the dogs could not follow the
scent, and soon appeared again, trotting along the
shore with the hunter.
It was not long after this, before I was discussing
a noble trout, that lay, fresh from the pan, along
my bark plate.
After breakfast, our little fleet of three skiffs,
was launched, and we paddled slowly up the lake.
In the mean time, the east wind, which always
poisons me, died away, and this beautiful sheet of136
THE ADIRONDACK.
water lay like a mirror in which the blue heavens
were quietly gazing on their own beauty. After
rowing two or three miles, Mitchell remarked it was
a good time to start a deer. I hailed the boats,
and in a few minutes we were in close consulta-
tion as to the best mountain on which to put out
the dogs. “Anywhere,” said P------------, “will fetch
one; but that mountain (pointing to the left,) is
the best, for the echo of the cry of the hounds
comes down from it in grand style. I want H-----------
to hear the echo of the chase along its sides
once,—it is more blood-stirring than the sound of
a trumpet.” Sending one boat on a mile and a
half a head, and one back, Mitchell and myself
landed the hunter and dogs and took a middle sta-
tion. They had scarcely reached the shore, before
the dogs opened. Pushing back into the lake, I
saw the white hound appear on the beach at a
little distance, shoot backward and forward a few mo-
ments with his nose to the ground, then utter a
loud deep cry. “Ah,” said I to myself, “that has
started at least one ‘noble stag,’ from his couch of
leaves, and he stands this moment with dilated
nostril and extended neck, while a pang of terrorA DEER CHASE.
137
shoots through his wild heart as the yell again
ringing through the forest, tells him that the voice
is on his track.”
The west wind had now risen, and we sat and
rocked on the waves, listening to the furious out-
cry that the mountain sent down to the water.
The green forest shut in both hounds and deer, but
you could follow the chase by the rapidly flying
sound along the steep acclivities. How earnest and
eager is the bay of a blood-hound on a fresh track—
ah, it was exciting, cruel as it may seem to some.
Suddenly the boat, a mile and a half above us, shot
out like an arrow, from behind a rock, and flew
over the water. The quick eye of the Indian caught
it, and exclaiming “ the deer has took to the water
there,” sprang to his oars. “It is not possible,” I
replied; “ it is scarcely half an hour since the dogs
started.” He stopped, rose to his full length in
the boat—stood for a moment like a statue, then
dropping on his seat, he exclaimed, “it is,” and
seized the oars. I did not deem it possible he could
discover it that distance with his naked eye, but
he had been trained from infancy in the forest. In
that short time such a change had passed over the138
THE ADIRONDACK.
man, that I scarcely knew him. Taciturn, slow
and indolent in his movements, I had not thought
him capable of sudden excitement. But now the
energy and fire of ten men seemed concentrated in
him. His strokes fell with a rapidity and power I
had never before witnessed. I have seen men row
for wagers and for dear life; but never saw blows
tell on a boat as did those of his,
It is true the skiff was light, for it was made to
be carried on one man’s shoulders across the country
from lake to lake—it is true also, that I threw
myself on the paddle with which I steered, with
all the strength I was master of; but the strokes
of Mitchell seemed each time to lift the cockle-shell
from the lake. As he fell back on the oars, so
rapid was the passage of the boat, that the water,
as it parted before it, rose up on each side as high
as his shoulders, and foamed like a torrent past me.
On, on we sped like a winged creature, when a rifle
shot rang dull and heavy in the distance, and the
wind lifting the smoke bore it down towards us.
“ Did he hit him ?” exclaimed Mitchell. I dropped
my paddle and lifting my glass to my eye, replied,
“No, and it is a buck. I see his antlers, and he isA DEER CHASE.
139
bearing right down on us. Pull, pull away my brave
fellow.’’ He did pull, and so did I, and we flew7 over
the surface. The other boat had been compelled to
lay-to a moment to mend an oar, which had given
us the advantage, but it was now again sent with
no stinted strokes down the lake. At length I could
see the head and antlers of the noble buck, as with
dilated nostrils and terror-stricken glance, he swam
and doubled on his pursuers. “Hold,” I exclaimed,
as he glanced away towards the shore. The boat fell
into the trough of the waves just as I raised my
rifle to my shoulder, and the little cockle-shell rocked
so like mad on the water, and my frame was quiver-
ing so with the exhausting effort of the last few
minutes, that the muzzle of my piece described all
sorts of mathematical diagrams around the head of
the deer, as I endeavored to make it bear for a
single second upon it. I could not shoot—but “fire!
fire!” shouted Mitchell, and “fire” it was. The bul-
let struck just under his throat, throwing the water
over his head, while he made a desperate spring and
pulled for the shore. Shame on me, but I might as
well have shot on horseback under a full gallop.
At that moment the other boat flew like a spirit140
THE ADIRONDACK.
past, and crack went the rifle of W—d. He missed,
and again onr skiff was rapidly dividing the waves
before her, while in scarcely more time than I have
been relating it, another ball was in my gun, and
I exclaimed, “ Now, Mitchell, as we approach him,
throw the head of the boat on the waves, so the
motion shall be steady, and if I miss him, I will
fling my rifle into the lake.” As we came up, a
single stroke of the oar sent her round, and as she
rose and fell on the short sea, I “watched my time”
and pulled. A desperate plunge and a bloody streak
upon the water, told that the bullet had found the
life-blood. Struggle on, bold fellow, but your life
is reached, and never again shall your foot press
the mountain-side! Just then another shot struck
the water close by our boat, glanced, and also en-
tered the deer. He bowed his antlered head in the
waves, and turned over on his side, while the short,
convulsive efforts told of his death agony. A few
strokes of the oar, and our boat lay alongside—the
knife of the Indian entered his throat, and the deed
was done. I raised him by the horns, and towed
him slowly along toward the shore. The excitementA DEER CHASE.
141
of the chase was over, and as I gazed on the wild, yet
mild and gentle eye of the noble creature, now glaz-
ing in death, a feeling of remorse arose in my heart.
I could have moralized an hour over the beautiful
form as it floated on the water. The velvet antlers
(they are now in their velvet) gave a more harmless
aspect to the head than the stubborn horn, and I
almost wished to recall him to life. It seemed impos-
sible that, a few minutes before, that delicate limbed
creature was treading in all the joy of freedom his
forest home. How wild had been his terror, as the
fierce cry of the hound first opened on his track!
—how swift the race down the mountain side, and
how free and daring his plunge from the rock into the
wave! How noble his struggles for life. But the
bold swimmer had been environed by foes too strong
for him, and he fell at last, where he could not
even turn at bay. The delicate nostril was relaxed
in death, and the slender limbs stiff* and cold.
I was awakened from my moralizing by Mitchell,
who that moment ceased rowing and gave a call.
The gallant white hound had followed the track of
the deer to the water, where he stood perplexed and142
THE ADIRONDACK.
anxious till the first rifle shot fell over the lake.
He then plunged in, and had ever since been swim-
ming after us in the chase. We lay-to, and took
the noble fellow in and then pulled for shore.XVI.
A MAGNIFICENT PROSPECT----FOURTEEN HOURS WITHOUT
FOOD.
Owl’s Head, August 5.
Dear H------:
Have you ever been on the summit of the Righi, in
Switzerland ? It is said to command the finest view
in that land of magnificent prospects. I once stood
on its top, and saw the sun come up in his glory, till
forests, lakes, rivers, and villages sprang into life and
beauty, and the whole range of the Bernese Alps, from
Sentis to the Jungfrau, glittered in red and gold, while
the vast snow fields slept in deep shadow between.
My eye never opened on a more glorious panorama,
and I stood amid its surpassing beauties in silent
amazement. The view, it is said, embraces a tract of
country three hundred miles in circumference, with
eleven lakes in sight from the summit, though I never144
* THE ADIRONDACK.
could make out more than half that number. The
Righi has become almost a classic name, while the
“ Owl’s Head,” from which I date my letter, has
never yet dared to show its face in civilized life. In-
deed, the cognomen has been given by a man wander-
ing by, from its shape, and it waits a new christening.
A forester here has requested me to give it a name,
promising it shall keep it. If you will send me one,
I will see to the baptism, and you shall have the
honor of naming a mountain; which is far more im-
posing than giving a name to a baby. It deserves a
good one, for insignificant as it may seem, to plant
your feet on an “ owl’s head,” it looks off on a pro-
spect that would make your heart stand still in your
bosom. Look away toward that distant horizon! In
its broad sweep round the heavens, it takes in nearly
four hundred miles, while between slumbers an ocean
—but it is an ocean of tree tops. Conceive, if you
can, this vast expanse stretching on and spreading
away, till the bright green becomes shaded into a deep
black, with not a sound to break the solitude, and not
a hand’s breadth of land in view throughout the
whole. It is a vast forest-ocean, with mountain-
ridges for billows, rolling smoothly and gently on likeGLORIOUS PROSPECT.	145
the subsiding swell of a storm. I stand on the edge
of a precipice which throws its naked wall far down to
the tops of the fir trees below, and look off on this
surpassingly wild and strange spectacle. The life that
villages, and towns, and cultivated fields give to a
landscape is not here, neither is there the barrenness
and savageness of the view from Tahawus. It is all
vegetation—luxuriant, gigantic vegetation ; but man
has had no hand in it. It stands as the Almighty
made it, majestic and silent, save when the wind or
the storm breathes on it, waking up its myriad low-
toned voices, which sing
i; The wild profound eternal bass
In nature’s anthem.”
Oh, how still and solemn it slumbers below me;
while far away yonder, to the left, shoot up into the
heavens the massive peaks of the Adirondack chain,
mellowed here, by the distance, into beauty. Yet
there is one relief to this vast forest solitude—like
gems sleeping in a moss bed, lakes are everywhere
glittering in the bright sunshine. How calm and
trustingly they repose on the bosom of the wilder-
ness! Thirty-six, a hunter tells me, can be counted
from this summit, though I do not see over twenty.
' 7146
THE ADIRONDACK.
There, like a snake crawling out from the mountain
gorge, comes Long Lake, with its glittering head—
and yonder is Forked Lake, and farther on Raquette
Lake—and farther still, Great and Little Tuppers
Lake, and away, a mere luminous point—but I will
cut short the list, for, indeed, many have no names.
Some of these are from four to six miles in width,
and yet they look like mere pools at this distance, t
and in the midst of such a mass of green.
I have gazed on many mountain prospects in this
and the old world, but this and the view from
Tahawus have awakened an entirely new class of
emotions. They are American scenes, constituting
one of the distinctive features of our country, where
nature seems to have formed everything on such
a large model, merely because she had so much
room to work in. I wanted to set fire to the trees on
the summit of the mountain, so as to present an un-
obstructed view, but the foliage was too green to
burn. A deep moss bed covered the whole top, on
which we reclined as on the softest couch. You will
get some conception of the wildness of the country,
when I tell you that it took us nearly five hours to
find this mountain after we first came in sight of it,A STARVED COMPANY.	147
though at the time not more than two miles distant,
in a straight line, from its base. "We rowed six miles
and landed with its blue top in clear view—then
took the direction with our pocket compasses, and
started off. One who had been to the summit before
acted as guide, but after circling round one or two
swamps, and falling unconsciously out of our way, by
following ridges that seemed to go in the direction we
wished, we found ourselves wholly at loss. Hills and
swamps, and a dense forest on every side, completely
obstructed our view, and we stumbled on hour after
hour, and ascended two mountains, before we could
finally get another glimpse of the one we were after.
We breakfasted about six in the morning, and had left
our fishing-tackle on the shore, where we expected to
x be again by noon, and take some trout for dinner—
but it was half-past three when we reached the top of
this mountain, making nine hours of the most des-
perate toil; with nothing to eat, and, what was worse,
with no prospect of getting anything till we should
again reach our boats. The doctor was in perfect
despair, and declared he could not return without
food. As a last resort, he took from his pocket a
piece of venison he had brought along for trout bait,148	TOE ADIRONDACK.
(a Frenchman could not have wished.it older,) and
devoured it. I begged the half of a cigar of one of the
company, (I offered him five dollars for the whole of
it,) to stimulate my exhausted system, and we began
our descent. We again lost our course and wandered
about till, wearied out, and hungry, we sat down in a
bed of wild “ sheep sorrel,” and plucked the green
leaves and ate them. An owl fluttered on a branch
over head, and I drew up my rifle and fired, but miss-
ed him. I verily believe, if I had killed him I should
have eaten him on the spot. The doctor declared
he would not stir—he would rather die than go any
further. We cheered him up with the remembrance of
his venison, at which he made sundry wry faces, not
to be mistaken, and which drew peals of laughter
from us, weary and faint as we were. The doctor
would then stagger on, but it was really pitiful to
look back and see him stop, put his shoulder to a tree,
and sink his head against the trunk, then slide down
in utter exhaustion, on the green moss at the root.
At length the rifle shot of the clergyman, who had
gone on while we tarried for the doctor, announced
that he had at last found the lake. This gave new
life to our spirits, and we scrambled joyously for-A “ WEARY WIGHT.”	149
ward. Those slender boats never looked so beautiful
to me before, as they then did, resting quietly on the
beach.
It was now nearly dark, and the nearest hut was
four miles off. Three of us sat down in one boat
and looked despairingly on each other, as much as to
say, “Who can row these four miles?” Invalid
as I was, I seemed to have the most strength left,
and so took the oars and rowed two miles and a
half, though every stroke seemed to tear out my very
stomach—ribs and all. We at length moored our
skiff at the base of a hill, and began the ascent to a
clearing. With both hands on the muzzle of my rifle,
which I used as a pole to push myself along with, I
dragged one foot after another, till I at length stopped,
and bowing my head on my gun, declared I was fairly
done up, and could go no farther. Just then there
came a flash of lightning that set the dark forest in a
blaze, followed by a peal of thunder that made the
shores and mountains tremble, as it rolled like the
report of a hundred cannon down the lake. I in-
stinctively straightened up, as the thought flashed
over me, what sort of a mathematical line the bullet
of my rifle would just then have made through my150
THE ADIRONDACK.
brain, had the powder but ignited. I immediately-
stepped forward with considerable alertness, though
not without reflecting on the wonderful power elec-
tricity and magnetism exerted over the human sys-
tem, especially under such circumstances.
I at length reached the hut, with a head burst-
ing with pain; and, throwing myself on the floor,
begged most piteously for a morsel of bread. I had
been fourteen hours without food, and most of the
time undergoing the severest toil. That night was
one of pain to me, and as I turned on my rude bed,
I felt that for once I had 66 paid too dear for the
whistle.”
Yours truly.XVII.
LONG LAKE---A FEARFUL NIGHT----A GALE IN THE WOODS----
MAN BITTEN BY A RABBIT.
Long Lake, August.
My Dear H--------:
You must expect now and then a hiatus in my
journal, for hours of idleness are indulged in here as
well as in civilized life. To-day, wearied with yes-
terday’s tramp, we may be loitering around the camp,
1 cleaning our rifles, and recruiting ourselves for a long
to-morrow. Sometimes we idle away the entire morn-
ing, and spend the afternoon in fishing—again take a
deer in the morning, and after dinner dress him, then
perhaps, practice rifle-shooting towards evening. At
another time a rain-storm sets in, which lasts two or
three days, compelling us to keep close and do no-
thing. As these are all rather monotonous to me, the
relation would be so to you—beside, one trout fishingTHE ADIRONDACK.
152
and one deer hunt is very much like another; and
though the excitement is ever new to him who is
engaged in them, they have no freshness in the de-
scription.
Long Lake is one of the most beautiful sheets of
water I ever floated over, and its frame-work of moun-
tains becomes the glorious picture. No artist has
ever yet visited it; and alas, as I have no skill with
the pencil, its beauties, like the “rose in the wil-
derness,” must, for a while, blush unseen. I never
saw a more beautiful island than “ Round Island,” as
it is called, situated midway of the lake. As you
look at it from above or below, it appears to stand
between two promontories, whose green and rounded
points are striving to reach it as they push boldly out
into the water ; while, with its abrupt, high banks,
from which go up the lofty pine trees, it looks like a
huge green cylinder, sunk there endwise, in the
waves. I wished I owned that island—it would be
pleasant to be possessor of so much beauty.
Mitchell went yesterday to the fopt of this lake to
meet his father and sister, who were on the way to
visit him. They had started some time before, a
hundred and fifty miles distant, in a bark canoe, andAFTERNOON.
153
he calculated that, that day or the next, they would
be at the outlet. He not having returned, I thought
in the afternoon I would row down and find him. I
had some thirteen miles to go, and unfortunately,
neither of the two young men with me could handle
the oars or steer, so I stripped to the task. Luckily,
however, there was a strong gale blowing down the
lake, and I landed on an island and cut a bush, which
I hung over with pocket handerchiefs to make it hold
the wind, and then set it upright in the centre of the
boat as a mainsail. The breeze was strong and steady,
and worked admirably. Far away to the south-
west, the golden sky shone in brilliant colors, and
over its illuminated depths the fragmentary clouds
went trooping as if joyous with life, while to the
northwest, towards which our frail craft was driving,
the heavens were black as midnight, and the retir-
ing storm-cloud looked dark and fierce—retreating,
though still unconquered. The sun was hastening to
the ridge of the sky-seeking mountains, and his de-
parting beams threw in still deeper contrast the black
masses that curtained in the eastern heavens. But
still the waves kept dancing in the light, as if deter-
mined not to be frowned out of their frolic, and it was
7*154
THE ADIRONDACK.
with no little pleasure I saw that threatening cloud
yield to the balmy and swift careering breeze that
swept the bosom of the lake.
At length, just as we were glancing away from the
head of a beautiful island, I saw a boat coming
towards us, impelled against the wind by the steady
strokes of a powerful rower. As it shot near, I be-
held the swarthy and benevolent face of Mitchell. He
lay on his oars a minute to hear my salutation and
my proposition, then pointed to a deep bay a mile dis-
tant, around which stretched a white line of sand;
and again bent to his oars. I followed after, for I
knew there was his camp ; and soon after our boats
grated on the smooth beach, and we were sitting be-
side a bark shanty, and discussing our future plans.
But those few barks, piled against some poles, were
not enough to cover us, and soon every one was at
work, peeling spruce trees, or picking hemlock boughs.
The cloudless sun went proudly, nay, to me, triumph-
antly to his royal couch amid the mountain summits
—and as twilight deepened over the wild landscape,
our camp fire shot its cheerful flame heavenward, and
we lay scattered around amid the trees in delightful
indolence. Mitchell had caught some trout, and these,A FEARFUL NIGHT.
155
with the contents of our knapsacks, furnished us a
noble supper. With my back against a stump, I held
a splendid trout in one hand, while my hunting-knife
in the other, peeled off his salmon-colored sides in
most tempting, delicious morsels.
After supper I asked Mitchell if we could not get a
deer before going to bed. He said yes, if the wind
went down so that we could float them. This floating
deer I will describe in another place, for there was no
stirring out that night. The wrathful little swells
came rushing furiously against the unoffending beach,
the tall tree-tops swayed to and fro, and sighed in
the blast—our roughly-fanned fire threw its sparks
in swift eddies heavenward, and all betokened a wild
and fearful night. “ No boat must leave the beach,”
and so carefully loading our rifles and setting them up
against the trees, we began to prepare for our night’s
repose. Some with their heads under the bark shan-
ty, and their feet to the fire—others in the open forest,
with their heads across a stick of wood—lay stretched
their full length upon the earth. I lay down for a
while, but the wind, which had increased at sunset,
now blew furiously, filling the forest with such an
uproar that it was with difficulty I could shake off156
THE ADIRONDACK.
the delusion that I was in the midst of the ocean.
I could not sleep, so rising from my couch of boughs,
I went out and sat down on the ground, and looked
and listened. The steady roar of the waves on the
beach below mingled in with the rush of the blast
above, the tall trees rocked and swung on every
side, and flung out their long arms into the night
—their leafy tresses streaming before them—and
groaned on their ancient foundations with a deep and
steady sound—rtill my heart was filled with emotions
at once solemn and fearful. To add to the sublimity
and terror of the scene, ever and anon came a dull and
heavy shock, like the. report of distant cannon. It was
made by a tree falling all alone there, in the depths of
the forest. Oh, what strange emotions those muffled
echoes awoke within me. Sometimes I thought one
of these gigantic forms near me, must also fall in the
struggle, and crush some of our company into the
earth; and then again forgetting the danger, my soul
would bow to the lordly music, till that great pri-
meval forest seemed one vast harp—its trunks and
branches the mighty wires, and the strong blast the
fierce and fearless hand that swept them. Now faint
and far in the distance I could catch the comingAN INCIDENT.	15?
anthem till, swelling fuller and clearer on my excited
ear, it at length went over me with a sea-like roar,
then died away in the far solitude. Grod seemed near
me, there, in the fearful night, and His voice was
speaking to me. How calm the sleepers around me
lay in the firelight, reposing as quietly in the wild
uproar, as if naught but the dews of heaven were
gently distilling, and yet how helpless they appeared
in their slumbers! Grod alone was their keeper, and
I never felt more deeply the -protection of that pa-
rental hand, than there at midnight.
The moon at length arose on the darkness, and the
wind gradually lulled to a gentler motion. I threw
myself on the ground, and watched the bright orb as
it slowly mounted the heavens, with feelings I will
not attempt to describe.
It was now about one o’clock, and I was endeavor-
ing to compose myself to slumber, when there occur-
red one of those ludicrous incidents that makes one’s
romance vanish like mist, and yet derives half of its
comicality from the time and circumstances in which
it occurs. As my eyes were resting on the fine pro-
portions of a young, athletic backwoodsman, who was
lying near the smouldering brands on the open earth,158
THE ADIRONDACK.
his head resting across a stick of wood for a pillow,
and his heavy breathing telling of the profoundest
slumber, I saw a rabbit steal from the bushes and
cautiously approach him. With his nose close to the
ground, he smelt around until he came to the sleeper’s
brawny hand outstretched upon the leaves. Some
fragments of the johnny-cake still clinging to his
thumb, deceived the rabbit into the belief that the
whole digit was edible, and he put his teeth into it.
This wakened the backwoodsman, who, rising to a
sitting posture, looked wildly around him and then
examined his thumb. All was quiet there; and im-
agining he had, in his dreams, thrashed his hand
about and struck a splinter, he fell back, and was
soon fast asleep. After waiting a proper time, the
rabbit stole forth again, and creeping cautiously up to
the large greasy hand, made his teeth meet through it.
This roused the poor fellow with a start, and he
caught a glimpse of his assailant as, with his long ears
laid flat on his back, he scampered into the bushes.
K-----g looked a moment at the place where he had
disappeared, and then at his bleeding thumb, mutter-
ing in the mean while, “ There, I’ve ketched you at it
—now—you had better be off.” The serious tone inMISTAKE OF A RABBIT.
159
which this was said, finished me, and I went into con-
vulsions of laughter. The look of innocent wonder—■
the dreadful imprecation, and the surprise and terror
of the poor rabbit, crouching far away in the bushes,
combined so much of the “ serio-comico,” that I
laughed till I awoke the entire camp, who inquired
what was the matter. A loud shout followed the ex-
planation, which gradually died away into silence, as
one after another dropped to sleep again. I, too, at
length sunk in slumber, and was just in the midst of
a sweet dream, when “ crack ” went a rifle, not ten
yards from me, sending me to my feet with a start.
The poor rabbit, however, was the only sufferer.
B-----n, after I had thus unceremoniously roused the
camp, lit his pipe, and sitting down behind a stump,
watched for the rabbit. Seeing him steal cautiously
forth, he had put a bullet through him, and thus
ended the innocent creature’s existence.
At length the welcome morning appeared, and
launching our boats, we started for Cold River to take
some trout.
Yours truly.XVIII.
TROUTING--A DUCK PROTECTING HER YOUNG BY STRATA-
GEM--------------SABBATH IN THE FOREST.
Long Lake, Aug
Dear H------:
I believe I broke off my last letter to go a-fishing—
well the Indian and myself went ahead, hoping to
surprise some deer feeding in the marshes, but were
disappointed. Reaching the foot of the lake, we shot
noiselessly down the Raquette River, till we came to
a huge rock that rose out of the bed of the stream,
when we turned off and began to ascend Cold River.
When we reached it, the surface was covered with
foam bubbles, made by the constant springing of the
trout after flies. They had absolutely churned it up,
and for awhile our hooks brought them to the surface
fast—but we were too late—the sun soon rising over
the forest, shed such a flood of light on the water, andA duck’s STRATAGEM.	161
indeed through it, to the very bottom, that scarcely a
fish . could be coaxed from his hiding-place. Our
boats and ourselves also threw strong shadows, suffi-
cient to frighten less wary fish than trout. We how-
ever took enough for breakfast, and started for home.
By the way, is it not a little singular that fish should
eat their own flesh; the first one we caught served as
bait for the others.
As we were returning, Mitchell left the main
stream and entered a narrow and shallow channel,
that by making a circuitous route, reached the lake
close beside the outlet. Passing silently along, we
roused up a brood of ducks among the reeds. The
mother first took the alarm, and seeing at a glance
that she could not escape with her young, left them
and fluttered out, directly ahead of our boat. She
then began to make a terrible ado, striking her wings
on the water, and screaming, and darting backwards
and forwards, as if dreadfully wounded and could be
easily picked up. I instinctively raised my rifle to
my shoulder: then thinking the shot might frighten
the deer we were after, I turned to Mitchell and in-
quired if I should fire. “I guess I wouldn’t,” he
replied ; “she has young ones.” My gun dropped in162
THE ADIRONDACK.
a moment. I stood rebuked, not only by my own
feelings, but by the Indian with me. I was shocked
that this hunter who had lived so many years on the
spoils of the forest, should teach me tenderness of
feeling. That mother’s voice found an echo in his
heart, and he would not harm one feather of her
plumage; nor could the bribe be named that would
then have induced me to strike the anxious affec-
tionate creature. As I saw her thus sacrificing her-
self to save her young, provoking the death-shot in
order to draw attention from them, I wondered how I
could for a single moment have wished to destroy her.
I leaned over the boat and watched her movements for
nearly half a mile. She would keep just ahead of us,
sailing backwards and forwards, now striking her
wings on the water, as if struggling with all her
strength to fly, yet unable to rise; and now screaming
out as if distressed to death at her perilous position ;
yet cunningly moving off in the meantime, so as to
allure us after, in order to increase the distance be-
tween us and her offspring. While we were near the
nest, she swam almost under our bow ; but as we
continued to advance she grew more timorous, as if
beginning to think a little more of herself. I couldNEW MODE OF EATING TROUT.
163
not blame her for this, for she had hitherto kept
within reach of certain death if I had chosen to fire.
But it was curious to observe in what exact proportion
her care for herself increased as the danger to her off-
spring lessened. She would rise and fly some dis-
tance, then alight in the water, and await our
approach. If she sailed out of sight a moment, she
would wheel and look back, and even swim back, till
she saw us following after, when she would move off
again. The foolish thing really believed she was out-
witting us, and, I have no doubt, had many self-com-
placent reflections on the ease with which ducks could
humbug human beings. After we had proceeded in
this way about half a mile, she rose into the air, and
striking the Raquette River, sped back by a circular
sweep to her young. As her form disappeared round
a bend of the stream, I could not help murmuring,
“ Heaven speed thee, anxious mother.” Ah, what a
chattering there was amid the reeds when her shadow
darkened over the hiding-place, and she folded her
wings amid her offspring, and listened with matronly
dignity to the story each one had to tell ?
All this, however, was speedily forgotten as we
emerged on the lake, whose bosom was swept by a164
THE ADIRONDACK.
strong wind, against which we were compelled to
force our tiny skiffs as we pulled for the camp. It
was now nine o’clock, and I never waited with so
much impatience for a meal as I did for the johnny-
cake that was slowly roasting amid the ashes. We
had but one pan, and until the cake was done we
could not cook our trout—and so stretched under the
shadow of a huge stump, with my chip-plate in my
hand, I lay and watched the crackling flames with all
the philosophy I could muster.
Mitchell, however, acted on philosophy of another
description, and while we were waiting for the pan,
dressed a pound trout, and cutting a long limber stick,
thrust one end of it through the fish lengthwise, and
sticking the other end in the ground, placed it at a
proper distance and angle over the fire. He then lay
down near it to superintend the cooking, which after
sundry changes and turns was completed. This
I had seen him do before, but now came the per-
fection of laziness. Sitting up, he swung the stick
around towards him, so that as he fell back on his
elbow, the trout hung suspended over his head ; and
thus while it bobbed up and down, he quietly peeled
off the delicious morsels and ate them. That grave.,AN INDIAN S THOUGHTFULNESS.
165
swarthy Indian stretched on the leaves, with the tront
nodding above him, as he slowly stripped away
the flesh, furnished a picture I should like to have
taken.
After breakfast we had no dishes or forks to clean,
but throwing them both away, wiped our knives on a
chip, and in a moment were ready for a start. It was
Saturday, and the heavens which had been so clear
the night before, now began to gather blackness—
the burdened wind moaned through the forest, or went
sobbing over the lake that was every moment fretting
itself into greater excitement, and everything be-
tokened a gloomy and tempestuous day. We were
fourteen miles from a human habitation; and though I
expected that day to have gone thirty miles farther
into the forest and spent the Sabbath, the storm that
was approaching made the shelter of a log cabin seem
too inviting, and I changed my mind. But to row
fourteen miles against a head wind and sea was no
child’s play, and for one I resolved not to do it. So,
making a bargain with Mitchell, the Indian, I wrap-
ped my oil-skin cape about me, and laying my rifle
across my lap, ensconced myself in the stern of the
boat, and made up my mind to a drencher, The166
THE ADIRONDACK.
black clouds came rushing over the huge mountains;
and the rain soon began to fall in torrents. Now hug-
ging the shore to escape the blast, and now sailing
under the lee of an island—once compelled to land till
the hurricane had passed—we crawled along until at
length, late in the afternoon, we found ourselves com-
fortably housed.
The log hut of Mitchell, in which I spent the Sab-
bath, was in the centre of two or three acres of
cleared land ; all the rest was forest. During the day,
I was struck with the sense of propriety, and delicacy
of feeling shown by him. Sunday must have been a
weary day to him, yet he engaged in no sports, per-
formed no work, that I saw, inappropriate to it. In
the afternoon, however, he took down his violin, and I
expected such music as would distress one to hear
on the Sabbath. But he refrained from all those
tunes I knew he preferred, and played only sacred
hymns, most of them Methodist ones. I could not
imagine where he had learned them; but this silent
respect for my feelings made me love him at once, and
I conceived a respect for him I shall never lose.
The day went out in storms, and as I Jay down that
night on my rough couch, I could hardly believe IFALSE NOTIONS.
167
was in the same State of which New York was the
emporium, whose myriad spires pierced the heavens.
I have been thus particular, because in no other
way can you get a correct idea of the daily life one is
compelled to lead who would penetrate these wilds.
It is nonsense to talk of dignity, and the impropriety
of a man’s carrying a rifle and fishing-tackle, and
spending his time in shooting deer and catching trout.
Such folly is becoming to him only, who sits on the
piazza of a hotel at Saratoga Springs, at the expense
of twelve dollars a week for his health. I love nature
and all things as God has made them. I love the
freedom of the wilderness and the absence of conven-
tional forms there. I love the long stretch through
the forest- on foot, and the thrilling, glorious prospect
from some hoary mountain top. I love it, and I know
it is better for me than the thronged city, aye, better
for soul and body both. How is it that even good men
have come to think so little of nature, as if to love her
and seek her haunts and companionship were a waste
of time ? I have been astonished at the remarks
sometimes made to me on my long jaunts in the
woods, as if it were almost wicked to cast off the168
THE ADIRONDACK.
gravity of society, and wander like a child amid the
beauty which Grod has spread out with such a lavish
hand over the earth. Why, I should as soon think of
feeling reproved for gazing on the midnight heavens,
gorgeous with stars, and fearful with its mysterious
floating worlds. I believe that every man degenerates
without frequent communion with nature. It is one
of the open books of Grod, and more replete with
instructions than anything ever penned by man. A
single tree standing alone, and waving all day long its
green crown in the summer wind, is to me fuller of
meaning and instruction than the crowded mart or
gorgeously built town.XIX.
LONG LAKE COLONY---A LOON--FORKED LAKE.
Forked Lake, August.
Dear H—— :
Taking Mitchell along with me, we embarked on
Monday in his birch bark canoe for Forked and Ra-
quette Lakes. Paddling leisurely up Long Lake, I
was struck with the desolate appearance of the settle-
ment. Scarcely an improvement has been made since
I was last here, while some clearings are left to go
back to their original wildness. Disappointed pur-
chasers, lured in by extravagant statements, have
given up in despondency and left—the best people
are all going away, and in a short time there will be
nobody left but hunters. This wilderness will be
encroached upon in time, though it will require years
to give us so crowded a population as to force settle-
ments into this desolate interior of the State.
8170
THE ADIRONDACK.
But our light canoes soon left the last clearing; and
curving round the shore, we shot into Raquette
River, and entered the bosom of the forest. As we
left the lake, I saw a northern diver some distance up
the inlet, evidently anxious to get out once more into
open space. These birds (about the size of a goose,)
you know, cannot rise from the water except by a
long effort, and against a strong damp wind ; and de-
pend for safety entirely on diving, and swimming.
At the approach of danger, they go under like a duck,
and when you next see them, they are perhaps sixty
rods distant, and beyond the reach of your bullet. If
cornered in a small pond, they will sit and watch
your motions with a keenness and certainty that is
wonderful, and dodge the flash of a percussion-lock
gun all day long. The moment they see the blaze
from the muzzle they dive, and the bullet, if well
aimed, will strike exactly where they sat. I have
shot at them again and again, with a dead rest,
and those watching, would see the ball each time,
strike in the hollow made by the wake of the
water above the creature’s back. There is no killing
them except by firing at them when they are not ex-
pecting it, and then their head and neck are the onlySHOT AT A LOON.
171
vulnerable points. They sit so deep in the water,
and the quills on their backs are so hard and com-
pact that a ball seems to make no impression on
them. At least, I have never seen one killed by be-
ing shot through the body. Such are the means of
self-preservation possessed by this curious bird, whose
wild, shrill, and lonely cry, on the lake at midnight,
is one of the most melancholy sounds I ever heard
in the forest.
This diver, of which I was just now speaking, I
wished very much to kill, in order to carry his skin
to New York with me; and so, after firing at him
in vain, I asked Mitchell if we could not both of us
together manage to take him. He told me to land
him where the channel was narrow that entered Long
Lake, and paddle along towards where the fellow was
sitting, and drive him out. As I approached the bird,
he dived. Knowing that he would make straight for
the lake, I watched the whole line of his progress
with the utmost care: but though my range took in
nearly a third of a mile, I never saw him again.
After a while I heard the crack of a rifle around the
bend of the shore ; and hastening thither, I found Mit-
chell loading his gun. He said the rascal just raised172
THE ADIRONDACK.
his head above water for a single second, opposite
where he stood, and he of course missed him. The
frightened bird did not appear again till it rose far
out in the lake.
I mention this circumstance merely to show the
habits of this, to me, most singular bird of our north-
ern waters. I forgot to say that although it cannot
rise from the water except with great difficulty, and
never attempts it to escape danger, neither can it
walk on the shore. Diving is about the only gift it
possesses, which it uses, I must say, with great
ability and success.
Paddling up Raquette river, we at length came to
Buttermilk Falls, around which we were compelled
to carry our canoes. So in another place we were
compelled to carry them two miles, around rapids,
through the woods. Nothing can be more comical
than to stand and see a party thus passing through
the forest. First a yoke is placed across the guide’s
neck, on which the boat is balanced bottom side up,
covering the poor fellow down to the shoulders, and
sticking out fore and aft over the biped below in such
a way as to make him appear half human, half-super-
natural, or, at least, entirely ^-natural. But it wasBOAT CARRYING.
173
no joke to me to carry my part of the freight. Two
rifles, one overcoat, one tea-pot, one lantern, one
basin, and a piece of pork, were my portion. Some-
times I had a change—namely, two oars and a pad-
dle, balanced by a tin pail in place of a rifle. Thus
equipped, I would press on for a while, and then stop
to see the procession—each poor fellow staggering
under the weight he bore, while in the long intervals
appeared the two inverted boats, walking through the
woods on two human legs in the most surprising
manner imaginable. Though tired and fagged out, I
could not refrain from frequent outbursts of laughter,
that made the forest ring again. But there was no
other way of getting along, and each one had to
become a beast of burden.
It was a relief to launch again, and when at last
we struck the river just after it leaves Forked Lake,
and gazed on the beautiful sheet of water that was
rolling and sparkling in the sunlight ahead, an invol-
untary shout burst from the party. A flock of wild
ducks, scared at the sound, made the water foam as
they rose at our feet and sped away. Stemming the
rapid stream with our light prows, we were soon afloat
on the bosom of the lake. The wind was blowing174
THE ADIRONDACK.
directly in our teeth, making the miniature waves
leap and dance around us as if welcoming us to their
home—a white gull rose from a rock at our side—a
fish hawk screamed around her huge nest on a lofty
pine-tree on the shore, as she wheeled and circled
above her offspring—a raven croaked overhead—the
cry of loons arose in the distance—and all was wild
yet beautiful. The sun was stooping to the west-
ern mountains, whose sea of summits were calmly
sleeping against the golden heavens: the cool breeze
stirred a world of foliage on our right—green islands,
beautiful as Elysian fields, rose out of the water as
we advanced; the sparkling waves rolled as merrily
under as bright a sky as ever bent over the earth, and
for a moment I seemed to have been transported into
a new world. I never was more struck by a scene in
my life: its utter wildness, spread out there where
the axe of civilization has never struck a blow—the
evening—the sunset—the deep purple of the moun-
tains—the silence and solitude of the shores, and the
cry of birds in the distance, combined to render it one
of enchantment to me. My feelings were more ex-
cited, perhaps, by the consciousness that we were
without any definite object before us—no place ofFORKED LAKE.
175
rest, but sailing along looking out for some good point
of land on which to pitch our camp.
Mitchell made no replies to our inquiries, but kept
paddling along among the lily pads until he reached
a point near the Raquette river and mooring our
boats to the shore, began to prepare for the night.
Yours truly.
fXX.
SHOOTING A DEER---MODERN SENTIMENTALISTS---THE IN-
FLUENCE OF NATURE.
Forked Lake., Aug.
After we had pitched (not our tent, but). our
shanty, we began to cast about for supper. I told
Mitchell I could not think of eating a piece of salt
pork, and we must get some trout. So rigging our
lines upon poles we cut on the shores of the lake, and
taking our rifles with us, we jumped into our bark
canoe, and pushed for some rapids in the Raquette
River, where it entered Forked Lake. As we were
paddling carefully along the edge of a marsh that put
out from the main land, Mitchell, who was at the
stern, suddenly exclaimed, “ Hist!—I see the head of
deer coming down to feed.” I sometimes thought he
could smell a deer, for he would often say he saw oneSHOOTING A DEER.
177
before both his ears had fairly emerged from the
bushes. “ Shoot him,” he said to me. “I can’t,” I
replied; “I am too tired: shoot him yourself.” So
stooping my head to let the bullet pass over me, I
watched him as he took aim; and it was a sight
worth seeing. The careless, indolent manner so
natural to him had disappeared as if by magic, and he
stood up in the stern of the boat as straight as his own
rifle, while his dark eye glanced like an eagle’s.
Every nerve in him seemed to have been suddenly
touched by an electric spark—and as he now stooped to
elude the watchfulness of the deer, and now again
stood erect, with his rifle raised to his shoulder, he
was one of the most picturesque objects I ever saw.
The timorous doe was feeding on the marsh, and ever
and anon lifted her head as if she scented danger in
the air. Then Mitchell would drop like a flash, and
gently rise again as the deer returned to her feed. She
was about twenty rods off, and now stood fairly ex-
posed amid the grass. It was a long shot for arm’s
length, and a tottlish boat to stand in, but he resolved
to try it. Slowly bringing his rifle to his face, he
stood for a moment as motionless as a pillar of marble,
while his gun seemed suddenly to have frozen in its178
THE ADIRONDACK.
place, so still and steady did it lie in his bronze hand.
A flash—a quick sharp report, and the noble deer
bounded several feet into the air, then wheeled and
sprang into the forest. He had shot directly over my
head, and the mad bound of the animal told too well
that the unerring bullet had struck near the life.
Rowing hastily to the spot, we could find no traces
of blood, but Mitchell, with his eye bent on the
ground, paced backward and forward without saying
a word. At length he stopped and peering down
amid the long grass, said, “ Here is blood.” How he
discovered it is a perfect mystery to me, for the grass
was a foot long and very thick, while the drop
which had fallen on the roots of a single blade, I
never should have noticed, and if I had, have con-
sidered it a mere discoloration of the leaf, fac
similies of which occurred at every step. The keen
hawk eye of the Indian* hunter, however, could not be
deceived, and he simply remarked, “She is hit deep,
or she would have bled more,” and struck on the
trail. But this baffled even, for the marsh was
covered with deer tracks, while the bushes into which
the wounded one had sprung were a perfect matting
of laurels and low shrubs. There was no more bloodA DEER SHOT.
179
to be found, and we were completely at fault in our
search.
At length, tired and disappointed, I returned to the
boat; and stood waiting the return of Mitchell, when
the sharp crack of his rifle again rang through the
forest, followed soon after by a shrill whistle. I
knew then that a deer had fallen, and hastened to the
Spot. There lay the beautiful creature stretched on
the moss, with the life-blood welling from her throat,
and over the body, watching, stood Mitchell, leaning
on his rifle. Unable to find the trail, he had made a
shrewd guess as to the course the animal had taken,
and making a circuit, finally came upon her, lain
down to die. At his approach she sprang to her feet,
ran a few rods, fell again exhausted, when his deadly
aim planted a bullet directly back of her ear, and her
career was ended.
Satisfied with our game, we gave up the fishing,
and dragging the body to the boat, put back to our
camp. The rest of our company stood on the shore
waiting our return, for they had heard the shots, and
were expecting the spoils. Some, no doubt, will think
this very cruel, and congratulate themselves on their
kinder natures. I have seen such people, and heard180
THE ADIRONDACK.
them expend whole sentences of sentimentality upon
the hard-heartedness that could take the life of so
innocent a creature, who very coolly wrung the
necks of chickens every night for their breakfast, and
devoured with great gusto the shoulder of a lamb for
dinner. They slay without remorse the most harm-
less, trusting creatures that haunt their meadows, or
sport upon their lawns and take food from their hands,
and yet are shocked at the idea of killing a deer or
shooting a wild pigeon. They kill God’s creatures,
not from necessity, but to gratify their palates and
minister to their luxurious tastes. But if any one
supposes we shot this noble doe for sport, he must
have a very vague idea of the toils we had endured
that day, or of our keen appetites. A man of great
sentimentality might eat boiled eggs and toast with
his coffee for breakfast, rather than sanction the death
of an animal by partaking of flesh. I say he might
do it, though I have never seen an instance of such
great self-denial; but I doubt whether, if he were a
day’s journey from a human habitation, hungry and
tired, with the prospect of nothing but a piece of salt
pork, toasted on the end of a stick for supper and
breakfast, he would hesitate to eat a venison steak.FALSE SENTIMENTALITY.
181
But I like to have forgot—the pork, too, was the flesh
of an animal, and it would be difficult to convince a
hog that lie had not as good a right to life as a deer.
At all events, we enjoyed the venison, though perhaps
the sentimentalist might say we were punished in .the
end, for it made us all outrageously sick. We either
cooked it too soon, (for in twenty minutes from the
time the deer fell, a part of her was roasting;) or we
ate it too rare, (for we were too hungry to wait till it
was perfectly done ;) or we ate too much, (for we were
hungry as famished wolves ;) or probably did all three
things together, which quite upset me.
But after the things (i. e. the chips) were cleared
away, I stretched myself on the ground under a tree
whose dark trunk shone in the light of the cheerful
fire, and began to muse on the day that had past.
How is it that a scene of quiet beauty makes so much
deeper an impression than a startling one? The
glorious sunset I had witnessed on that sweet lake—
the curving and forest-mantled shores—the green
islands—the mellow mountains, all combined to make
a scene of surpassing loveliness: and now as I lay and
watched the stars coming out one after another, and
twinkling down on me through the tree-tops, all that182
THE ADIRONDACK.
beauty came back on me with strange power. The
gloomy gorge and savage precipice, or the sudden
storm, seem to excite the surface only of one’s feelings,
while the sweet vale, with its cottages and herds and
evening bells, blends itself in with our very thoughts
and emotions, forming a part of our after existence.
Such a scene sinks away into the heart like a gentle
rain into the earth, while a rougher, nay, sublimer
one, comes and goes like a sudden shower. I do not
know how it is that tite gentler influence should be
the deeper and more lasting, but so it is. The still
small voice of nature is more impressive than her
loudest thunder. Of all the scenery in the Alps, and
there is no grander on the earth, nothing is so
plainly daguerreotyped on my heart as two or three
lovely valleys I saw. Those heaven-piercing sum-
mits, and precipices of ice, and terrific gorges, and
fearful passes, are like grand but indistinct visions
on my memory, while those vales, with their carpets
of greensward, and murmuring rivulets, and perfect
repose, have become a part of my life. In moments
of high excitement or turbulent grief they rise before
me with their gentle aspect and quiet beauty, hushingPOWER OF QUIET SCENERY.
183
the storm into repose, and subduing the spirit like a
sensible presence.
But Mitchell has arisen from his couch of leaves,
where he has been reclining silent and thoughtful as
his race, and is looking up to the sky and out upon
the lake, and I know something is afoot.
Yours truly.XXI.
FLOATING DEER---A NIGHT EXCURSION---MORNING IN THE
WOODS.
Forked Lake, Aug.
Dear H-------:
As I stated in my last, Mitchell looked up to the
sky, and out upon the lake a moment, and then, in
that quiet way so characteristic of his race, said, “ If
you want to go after a deer it is time we started.” It
took but five minutes to load my rifle, put on my
overcoat, and announce myself ready. Lifting our
bark canoe softly from the rocks, we launched it on
the still water, and stepping carefully in, pushed off.
Previously, however, Mitchell requested me to try
one of my matches, to see if the damp had affected
them.
You know that deer-floating amid backwoodsmen
is very different from deer-stalking in Scotland. InFLOATING DEER.	185
the warm, summer months, the deer come down
from the mountains at night to feed on the marshes
that line the shores of the lakes and rivers.* While
they are thus feeding, if you pass along in a dark,
still night, without making a noise, you can hear
them, as they step about in the edge of the water, or
snort as they scent approaching danger. The moment
you become aware of the proximity of one, strike a
light and fix it firmly in the bow of your boat, or in a
lantern on your head, and advance cautiously. The
deer, attracted by the flame, stops and gazes intently
upon it. If he hears no sound he will not stir till you
are close to him. At first you catch only the sight of
his two eyes, burning like fire-balls in the gloom, but
as you approach nearer, the light is thrown on his red
flanks, and he stands revealed in all his beautiful pro-
portions before you. The candle serves to distinguish
the animal, and, at the same time, give you a clear
view of the sights along your gun-barrel, and he must
be a poor shot who misses at five rods’ distance.
* Sportsmen may wonder at our killing deer in midsummer, but
I would say that we never shot a sucking doe. Bucks never are
better than in July, for the food is then so abundant they are
extremely fat. We killed only one doe in all, and that was a
yearling.186
THE ADIRONDACK.
This night, the only good feeding spot for deer had
been so trampled over by ns, before dark, that they
would not come out upon it, and we floated on for a
a long time without hearing anything. I never be-
fore saw such an exhibition of the stealthy move-
ments of an Indian. The lake was as still and
smooth as a polished mirror, and our frail canoe
floated over it as if impelled by an invisible hand. I
knelt at the bow, with my rifle before me, while Mit-
chell sat in the stern as fixed as a statue, yet urging
the boat on by some strange movement of the paddle,
which I tried in vain to comprehend. He did not
even make a ripple on the water, and I could tell we
were moving only by marking the shadow of trees we
crossed, or the stars we passed over. Though strain-
ing every nerve to catch a sound, I never once heard
the stroke of his paddle. It was the most mysterious
ride I ever took. We entered the mouth of a river,
whose shores were black with the sombre fir trees,
while ever and anon would come more clearly on the
ear the roar of a distant waterfall. It was so dark I
could make out nothing distinctly on shore, and the
island-like tufts that here and there rose from the
water—the little bays and rocky points we passed,MYSTERIOUS RIDE.
187
assumed the most grotesque shapes to my fancy, till I
had all the feelings of one suddenly transported to
a fairy land. Now the silent boat would cross the
shadow of a lofty pine tree, that lay dark and calm
in the water below, and now sail over a bright
constellation that sparkled in our path, while the
scream of a far-off loon came' ringing like a spirit’s
cry through the gloom. Oh, how bright lay the sky,
with its sapphire floor beneath us, and how black was
the fringe of shadow that encroached on its beauty,
and yet added to it by contrast. The silent night
around me—the strangeness of the place, and the far
removal from human habitations, were enough in
themselves; but the dim, impalpable objects on shore,
just distinct enough to confuse the senses, added ten-
fold mystery to the scene. I seemed moving through
a boundless world of shadows, with nothing clear and
natural, but the bright constellations below me.
Thus we continued on for a mile, without a whisper
or sign having passed between us. At length the ca-
noe entered what seemed at first a deep bay, but soon
changed to the mouth of a gloomy cavern. I leaned
forward, striving in vain to make out the misshapen
objects before me; but the more I looked, the more188
THE ADIRONDACK.
confused I grew ; while to add to my bewilderment,
suddenly the dim outlines I was struggling to make
out, began to vanish as if melting away in the dark-
ness. At first, I thought the whole had been a struc-
ture of mist, and was dissolving in my sight, but
casting my eyes beneath me, I saw we were receding
over the stars. Then I understood it all. Mitchell,
without making a sound, had drawn the boat slowly
backwards, causing the objects before me to fade thus
strangely from my sight. He knew the ground per-
fectly well, and could enter every bay and inlet as
accurately as in broad daylight.
Pursuing our way up the channel, I was at length
startled by a low “ hist!” The next moment I
caught the tread of a deer on shore, when the light
canoe shot along the surface till I could hear the
low ripple of the water around the bow. “ Light
up !” said Mitchell in a whisper. As quietly as possi-
ble, I kindled a match, and lightinga candle, put it in
a lantern made to fit the head like a hat, and clapping
it in the place of my cap, cocked my rifle and leaned
forward. The bright flame flared out upon the sur-
rounding gloom, and all was hush as death. But as
we advanced towards where the deer was standing,THE QUARRY ESCAPED.	189
the boat suddenly struck the dry limbs of a spruce
tree that had fallen in the water. Snap, snap, went
the brittle twigs—one of them piercing our bark
canoe. *We backed out of the dilemma as quick as
possible, but the sound had alarmed the deer, and I
could hear his long bounds as he cleared the bank,
and made off into the forest.
After cruising about a little while longer, we put
back, and crossed the lake to a deep bay on the
farther side. But the moon now began to show her
disc over the fir trees, and our last remaining chance
was to find a deer in the bay before the silver orb
should climb the lofty pines that folded it in. But
in this too we were disappointed, and the unclouded
light now flooding lake and forest, we turned wearily
towards our camp fire that was blazing cheerfully
amid the trees on the farther shore. Just then a
merry laugh came floating over the water from our
companions there, breaking the silence which had en-
chained us, and for the first time we spoke. My
limbs were almost paralyzed from having been kept so
long in one position, and I was sick and weary. Still
I would not have missed that mysterious boat-ride
and the strange sensations it had awakened, to have190
THE ADIRONDACK.
been saved from thrice the inconvenience it had occa-
sioned me. It was one of those new things in this
stereotyped life of ours, imparting new experiences,
and giving one as it were a deeper insight into his own
soul.
At length we stretched ourselves upon the boughs,
and were soon fast asleep. I awoke, however, about
midnight, and found our fire reduced to a few em-
bers, while the rain was coming down as if that were
its sole business for the night. It is gloomy in the
woods without a fire ; and I never seem so com-
panionless as when in the still midnight I awake and
find nothing but the dark forest about me, cheered by
no light. A bright, crackling flame seems like a
living thing, keeping awake on purpose to watch over
you.
Leaving my companions, whose heavy breathings
told how profound were their slumbers, I sallied out
in search of fuel. But there was nothing but green
fir trees, which would not burn, to be found; and after
striking my axe into several, and getting my lower
extremities thoroughly wet, I returned, and lay down
again and slept till morning. "With the first dawn I
was up, and taking the Indian’s canoe, pushed off inOMENS OF A STORM.
191
search of a deer. The heavy fog lay in masses upon
the water, and the damp morning was still and quiet
as the night that had passed. I floated about till the
sun rose over the mountains, turning that lake into a
sheet of gold, and sending the mist in spiral wreaths
skyward, and then slowly paddled my way back to our
camp. As I was thus floating tranquilly along over
the water, I heard far up the lake, where it lost itself
in the mountains, two distinct and heavy reports like
the discharge of fire-arms. Who could be in that
solitude besides ourselves ? was the first enquiry. I
mentioned the circumstance when I reached the
camp, and found that my companions, who had been
busy in preparing breakfast, had also been startled by
the sound. Mitchell, just then returned from an expe-
dition after a fish-hawk, which he brought back with
him, hearing our conjectures, very quietly remarked,
they were not rifle shots. His quick ear never de-
ceived him. “ What, then, were they ?” I enquired.
“ Trees,” he replied. “ But,” said I, “ there is not
a breath of air this morning, while it blew very hard
yesterday afternoon.” “ They always fall,” he re-
plied, “ before a storm—it will storm to-morrow.”
There was something sad in thinking of those two192
THE ADIRONDACK.
trees thus falling all alone on a still and beautiful
morning, foretelling a coming tempest. Sombre
omens these, and mysterious, as becomes the un-
trodden forest.
Mitchell had shot an immense fish-hawk, breaking
only the tip of his wing, so as to prevent him from
flying. He brought him and set him down before the
fire, when the fearless bird drew himself proudly up
and steadily faced us down without attempting to run
away. His savage eye betokened no fear, and when
any one of us approached him, his leg would be lifted
and his talons expanded ready to strike. I was never
so struck with the boldness of a bird in my life. At
length Mitchell took him and placed him on a rock
by the edge of the lake, when, for a moment, he
forgot his wound, and spreading his broad wings,
leaped from his resting place. But the broken pinion
refused to carry him heavenward, and he fell heavily
into the water. I saw Mitchell bring his rifle to his
shoulder, and the next moment a bullet crushed
through the head of the poor creature, and its suffer-
ings were over.
Such are the incidents of a life in the woods, and
thus do the days and nights pass—not without mean-LANGUAGE OF NATURE,
193
ing or instruction. A man cannot move or
without thinking of God, for all that meets his eye
just as it left his mighty hand. The old forest as it
nods to the passing wind speaks of him—the still
mountain points towards his dwelling-place, and the
calm lake reflects his sky of stars and sunshine. The
glorious sunset and the blushing dawn—the gorgeous
midnight and the noon-day splendor, mean more in
these solitudes than in the crowded city. Indeed,
they look different—they are different.
Yours truly,
9XXII.
FOREST MUSIC.
The Woods, August.
Dear H------:
How often we speak of the solitude of the forest,
meaning by that, the contrast its stillness presents to
the hum and motion of busy life. When you first
step from the crowded city into the centre of a vast
wilderness, the absence of all the bustle and activity
you have been accustomed to makes you at first be-
lieve there is no sound, no motion there. So a man
accustomed for a long time to the surges of the ocean
cannot at first hear the murmur of the rill. Yet these
solitudes are full of sound, aye, of rare music, too.
I do not mean the notes of birds, for they rarely sing
in the darker, deeper portions of the forest. Even the
robin, which in the fields cannot chirp and carol
enough, and is so tame that a tyro can shoot him,MORNING CONCERT.
195
ceases his song the moment he enters the forest, and
flits silently from one lofty branch to another, as if in
constant fear of a secret enemy. If you want to lis-
ten to the music of birds, go to some field that borders
on the woods, and there, before sunrise of a summer
morning, you will hear such an orchestra as never be-
fore greeted your ears. There are no dying cadences
and rapturous bursts and prolonged swells, but one
continuous strain of joy. Yet there is every variety
of tone, from the clear, round note of the robin, to the
shrill piping of the sparrow. No time is kept, and no
scale is followed—each is striving to outwarble the
other, and yet there seems the most perfect accord.
No jar is made by all the conflicting instruments—
the whole heavens are full of voices tuned to a
different key—each pausing or breaking in as it suits
its mood—and yet the harmony remains the same.
It is unwritten music such as nature furnishes—filling
the soul with a delight and joy it never before
experienced.
But this is found only in the fields—our great
forests are too sombre and shadowy for such glees.
Still you find music there. There is a certain kind
occurring only at intervals, which chills the heart like196
THE ADIRONDACK.
a dead-march, and is fearful as the echo of bursting
billows along the arches of a cavern. The shrill
scream of a panther in the midst of an impenetrable
swamp, rising in the intervals of thunder claps—the
long, discordant howl of a herd of wolves at midnight,
slowly traveling along the slope of a high mountain,
you may call strange music ; yet there are certain
chords in the heart of man, that quiver to it, espe-
cially when he feels there is no cause of alarm. The
lowing of a moose, echoing miles away in the gorges
—the solitary cry of the loon in some deep bay—the
solemn hoot of the owl, the only lullaby that cradles
you to sleep, all have their charms, and stir you at
times like the blast of a bugle. So the scream of
the eagle, and cry of the fish-hawk, as they sweep in
measured circles over the still bosom of a lake after
their prey, or the low, half suppressed croak of the
raven—his black form like some messenger of death,
slowly swinging from one mountain to another—are
sights and sounds that arrest and chain you. Yet
these are not all—the ear grows sensitive when you
feel that everything about you treads stealthily; and
the slightest noise will sometimes startle you like the
unexpected crack of a rifle.SENSITIVENESS OF THE EAR.
197
After watching for a long time for deer on the
banks of some still stream, almost motionless myself,
the unexpected spring of a trout to the surface has
sent the blood to my temples as suddenly as though
it had been the leap of a panther.
By living in the woods, your sense of hearing be-
comes so acute that the wilderness never seems silent.
It is said that a nice and practised ear can hear at
night, in the full vigor of spring, the low sound of
growing, bursting vegetation, and in the winter, the
shooting of crystals, “like moon-beams splintering
along the ground.” So in the forest, there is a faint
and indistinct hum about you, as if the spreading and
bursting of the buds and barks of trees, the stretching
out of the roots into the earth, and the slow and affec-
tionate interlacing of branches and kiss of leaves, were
all perceptible to the ear. The passage of the scarcely
moving air over the unseen tree tops, the motion it
gives to the trunk—too slight to be detected by the eye
—the dropping of an imperfect leaf; all combine to
produce a monotonous sound, which lulls you into a
feeling half melancholy and half pleasing. You may,
on a still summer afternoon, recline for hours on some
gentle slope, and listen without weariness to this low,198
THE ADIRONDACK.
perpetual chant of nature. Sometimes the hollow
tap of the woodpecker, or the loud, babbling voice
of the streamlet, rushing under arches of evergreens,
gives animation to the song. If you are on the bor-
ders of a lake, the elear and limpid sound of the
ripples, as they hasten to lay their lips on the smooth
pebbles, blend in with the anthem, till the soul sinks
into reveries it dare not speak aloud.
But there is one kind of forest music I love best of
all—it is the sound of wind amid the trees. I have
lain here by the hour, on some fresh afternoon, when
the brisk west wind swept by in gusts, and listened to
it. All is comparatively still, when, far away, you
catch a faint murmur, like the dying tone of an organ
with its stops closed—gradually swelling into clearer
distinctness and fuller volume, as if gathering strength
for some fearful exhibition of its power; until, at
length, it rushes like a sudden sea overhead, and
everything sways and tosses about you. For a mo-
ment an invisible spirit seems to be near—the fresh
leaves rustle and talk to each other—the pines and
cedars whisper ominous tidings, and then the retiring
swell subsides in the distance, and silence again
slowly settles on the forest. A short interval onlyMUSIC OF THE WIND.
199
elapses when the murmur, the swell, the rush, and
the retreat, are repeated. If you abandon yourself
entirely to the influence, you soon are lost in strange
illusions. I have lain and listened to the wind mov-
ing thus among the branches, until I fancied every
gust a troop of spirits, whose tread over the bending
tops I caught afar, and whose rapid approach I could
distinctly measure. My heart would throb and pulses
bound, as the invisible squadrons drew near, till as
their sounding chariots of air swept swiftly overhead,
I ceased listening, and turned to look. Thus troop
after troop, they came and went on their mysterious
mission—waking the solitude into sudden life, as they
passed, and filling it with glorious melody.
From such a state of reverie I was once aroused by
my Indian guide quietly saying, “It blows most too
hard to fish to-night.” Oh, yes, it blows too hard: ye
splendid train of spirits treading the soft and velvet
bosom of the boundless forest, and with ten times ten
thousand branches and twigs and leaves for harp
strings, discoursing sweet music, you march alto-
gether too heavily, and sing too loudly for good fish-
ing. Grood Mitchell, you are right; those spirits have
kicked the lake all into a bubble. We both have200
THE ADIRONDACK.
been listening to this wind, but with how different
ears—you as a practical man, and I‘as a dreamer. I
am half a mind to tell you what I have been thinking
about, just to see your black eyes stare. But it is of
no use; we must take a little salt pork instead of
trout for supper to-night—thanks to the “ forest
music.”
Yours truly.XXIII.
RAQ.UETTE LAKE--NUMBER OF ITS TROUT---A HUNTER’S
LOVE FOR AN EAGLE---FIERCE STRUGGLE BETWEEN AN
EAGLE AND A SALMON.
Raquette Lake, August.
Dear H------:
It is only about a mile and a half from Crotched or
Forked to Raquette Lake. For about three quarters
of a mile up the inlet, where Mitchell shot the
deer the first night we arrived at Forked Lake, it is
fair rowing to the falls—then for a half a mile you are
compelled to shoulder your boats. But at length the
beautiful sheet of Raquette Lake opens on the view,
shining like an opal amid an interminable mass of
green. Stretching away for nearly thirteen miles, it
lies embosomed in the unshorn shores, and reflecting
in its pellucid depths the clouds, as they float over the
heavens which seem immeasurably high here in this
9*202
THE ADIRONDACK.
clear atmosphere—and presents one of the most beau-
tiful scenes the eye ever rested upon. When, how-
ever, the mountain storm sweeps over its breast, and
the confined thunder breaks and bursts upon it, it
looks like any thing but a gentle being.
It is the largest body of water in this wild region,
and with a shore as irregular as it could well be
made. Though only thirteen miles long and six
broad, it has a coast of fifty miles in extent. With
its long, wooded points and promontories and deep
bays, it would look, to a man placed above it, like
a huge scollop. This waving outline completely
deceives one, in sailing over it, as to the extent
and direction of the main body of water. As you
round one point, the lake seems to take a turn,
for it goes miles away, piercing the very heart of
the distant forest. But, by the time a second point
is weathered, a broad and beautiful surface is seen
spreading in another direction. Thus there is a
constant succession of new views—in fact, as you
slowly float along, you seem to behold a dozen dif-
ferent lakes, each rivalling the other in picturesque
beauty. It has three large inlets, one of which
comes from the Eckford, or, as the hunters callHUTS OF HUNTERS.
203
them, Blue Mountain and Tallow Lakes, pouring a
stream of crystal into its bosom. The south inlet is
a river of such magnitude that it can be navigated
for eight miles by a boat of a ton’s burthen. The
third is Brown’s inlet, of almost half the size of the
former.
Imagine this broad expanse of water in the midst
of a vast wilderness, dotted with islands, with deep
bays fringed with green—bold slopes reaching to the
clouds, clothed with green—distant mountains en-
folding mountains, all waving with the same rich
verdure—blue peaks dreaming far away, and far up
in the heavens, and not a sign of vegetation—not
a boat to break the solitude, and you will have
some idea of the sights that meet you at every
turn, charming the soul into pleasure.
Thus rowing along, with no living thing but the
wild bird, and wilder deer, which has come down from
the mountains to drink, and raises his head as the
sound of your voice is borne to his ear, to interrupt
the Sabbath quietness around, you at length come
in sight of “ Indian Point,” so called because there
was once an Indian settlement upon it. Now two
huts are standing there, looking like oases in the204
THE ADIRONDACK.
desert, occupied by two men, who dwell thus shut
out from civilized life.
These two cabins are the only ones on this whole
fifty miles of coast,* and the two hunters that
occupy them the only inhabitants that are or have
been on the shore for the last nine years. With-
out a wife or child they have lived here winter
and summer, as ignorant of what is going on in the
great world without, and as indifferent to it as the
savage of the Rocky Mountains. One of them was
once a wealthy manufacturer ; but overtaken by suc-
cessive misfortunes, he at length fled to the wilder-
ness, where he has ever since lived. There is also a
rumor, of some love adventure—of blasted affections
followed by morbid melancholy, which is probably
“ower true”—being the cause of this strange self-
exile.
However that may be, here he lives, and here he is
likely to live and be buried. These two Robinson Cru-
soes have cleared about ten acres of land, on which
they raise such vegetables as they need, while the
fishing line and rifle supplies them with meat. An
easy life is theirs—no taxes to pay—no purchases to
* There are others now.EASY TROUTING.
205
make—and during most of the year, fish and deer
and moose ready to come almost at their call.
This beautiful lake is thronged with salmon and
speckled trout. Talk about Pisico Lake and Lake
Pleasant, and other border waters, where fishing has
become a business. Come here, if you wish to see
the treasures the wilderness encloses. The most
beautiful and savory trout that ever swam are found
in such quantities that you can take them without
even a fly, or bait of any description. Look at that
inlet—there sits my friend B---—n with a pole and
line big enough to play a sturgeon with, and nothing
but a piece of white paper on his coarse hook. He is
skipping it, or as the fishermen call it, 66 skittering ”
it over the water, and there rises a two pounder,
and there a three pounder, and a one pounder by his
side—heigh ho, a full dozen of them, with their
speckled, gleaming sides and wild eyes, are making
the water foam about it. The hungry, unsophisti-
cated fellows have never yet learned that there is such
a thing as a hook, and dart fiercely at every object
that tempts their appetite, without fear of being
caught. You can sit here of a fine day, and with
bait take out these speckled trout till your amis206
THE ADIRONDACK.
ache with lifting them. No sooner does the worm, or
piece of venison, sink in the water than they crowd
round it in swarms.
The salmon trout are noble fellows—these two
hunters say they have caught them weighing over
thirty pounds.
I have often been struck with the singular attach-
ment hunters sometimes have for some bird or ani-
mal, while all the rest of the species they pursue with
deadly hostility.
About five hundred yards from Beach’s hut, stands
a lofty pine tree, on which a grey eagle has built its
nest annually during the nine years he has lived on
the shores of the Raquette. The Indian who dwelt
there before him, says that the same pair of birds
made their nest on that tree for ten years previous
—making in all, nineteen years they have occu-
pied the same spot, and built on the same branch.
It is possible, however, that the young may have
taken the place of their parents. At all events,
Beach believes them to be the same old dwellers, and
hence regards them as squatters like himself, and en-
titled to equal privileges. From his cabin door he
can see them in sunshine and storm—quietly perchedhunter’s love of an eagle.
207
on the tall pine, or wildly cradled as the mighty
fabric bends and sways to the blast. He has become
attached to them, and hence requests every one who
visits him not to touch them. I verily believe he
would like to shoot the man who should harm one
of their feathers. They are his companions in that
solitude—proud occupants of the same wild home,
and hence bound together by a link it would be hard
to define, and yet which is strong as steel. If that
pine tree should fall, and those eagles move away to
some other lake, he would feel as if he had lost a
friend, and the solitude become doubly lonely.
Thus it is—you cannot by any education or expe-
rience, drive all the poetry out of a man—it lingers
there still, and blazes up unexpectedly—revealing the
human heart with all the sympathies, attachments,
and tenderness that belong to it.
He, however, one day came near losing his bold
eagle. He was lying at anchor, fishing, when he saw
his favorite bird high up in heaven, slowly sweeping
round and round in a huge circle, evidently awaiting
the approach of a fish to the surface. For an hour or
more, he thus sailed with motionless wings above the
water, when all at once he stopped and hovered a mo-208
THE ADIRONDACK.
ment, with an excited gesture—then rapid as a flash
of light, and with a rush of his broad pinions, like the
passage of a sudden gust of wind, came to the still
bosom of the lake. He had seen a huge salmon trout
swimming near the surface—and plunging from his
high watch-tower, drove his talons deep in his vic-
tim’s back. So rapid and strong was his swoop that
he buried himself out of sight when he struck, but the
next moment he emerged into view, and flapping his
wings, endeavored to rise with his prey. But this
time he had miscalculated his strength—in vain he
struggled nobly to lift the salmon from the water.
The frightened and bleeding fish made a sudden dive,
and took eagle and all out of sight, and was gone a
quarter of a minute. Again they arose to the surface,
and the strong bird spread his broad, dripping pinions,
and gathering force with his rapid blows, raised the
salmon half out of water. The weight, however, was
too great for him, and he sank again to the surface,
beating the water into foam about him. The salmon
then made another dive, and they both went under,
leaving only a few bubbles to tell where they had
gone down. This time they were absent a full half
minute, and Beach said he thought it was all overFIGHT BETWEEN A TROUT AND EAGLE. 209
with his bird. He soon, however, reappeared with his
talons still buried in the flesh of his foe, and again
made a desperate effort to rise. All this time the fish
was shooting like an arrow through the lake, carrying
his relentless foe on his back. He could not keep the
eagle down, nor the bird carry him up—and so now
beneath, and now upon the surface, they struggled on,
presenting one of the most singular yet exciting
spectacles that can be imagined. It was fearful to
witness the blows of the eagle as he lashed the lake
with his wings into spray, and made the shores echo
with the report. At last, the bird thinking, as they
say west, that he had “ waked up the wrong pas-
senger,” gave it up ; and loosening his clutch, soared
heavily and slowly away to his lofty pine tree, where
he sat for a long time sullen and sulky-—the picture
of disappointed ambition. So might a wounded and
baffled lion lie down in his lair and brood over his de-
feat. Beach said that he could easily have captured
them, but he thought he would see the fight out.
When, however, they both staid under a half minute
or more, he concluded he should never see his eagle
again. Whether the latter in his rage was bent on
capturing his prize, and would retain his hold though210
THE ADIRONDACK.
at the hazard of his life, or whether in his terrible
swoop he had struck his crooked talons so deep in the
back of the salmon, he could not extricate himself, the
hunter said he could not tell. The latter, however,
was doubtless the truth, and he would have been glad
to have let go, long before he did. The old fellow
probably spent the afternoon in studying avoirdupois
weight, and ever after tried his tackle on smaller fish.
As for the poor salmon, if he survived the severe
laceration, he doubtless never fully understood the
operation he had gone through.XXIV.
✓WN/V'N/N/N/N^-
DESCRIPTION OF RAQUETTE LAKE-----ABUNDANCE OF ITS
FISH--LAKE ELDON----ITS QUEER DISCOVERY---A MAN
WHIPPED BY AN EAGLE----A HUNTER WITHOUT FEET.
The Woods, August.
Dear H------:
I designed to give you a lengthy description of Ra-
quette Lake, which surpasses all the others in the
beauty of its scenery, and can hardly be matched in
the wide world. I was the more anxious to do this,
because its sloping shores and fertile land make it
the most desirable portion of this whole region for
settlers. The Adirondack chain terminates here in
the isolated peak of Mount Emmons, and the land
sinks into an elevated plateau, furnishing many in-
ducements to the emigrant. In place of this, how-
ever, I give you an extract from an interesting letter212
THE ADIRONDACK.
which I received from a gentleman who has spent
months around the Raquette.
“ There are, perhaps, but few sections in our coun-
try, where the amateur of the beauties of nature, and
the lover of sport, can better enjoy a few days of
retreat from the thronged city and the cares of busi-
ness, than at Raquette Lake. Here he feels liberated
from the restraints of organized society, and meets the
rude yet agreeable change, produced by an escape from
the formalities of the world—indeed, he enters upon
the enjoyment of that pure and artless freedom which
the society of nature alone can impart. As a striking
proof of the effect of this change, one can scarcely
turn his attention from the objects around him, to the
calculations of business, or the schemes of selfishness
and pride—and I venture to say, if the mines of Cali-
fornia were planted upon the shores of this beautiful
lake, the miser even, would forsake his sordid labor,
till he had viewed and re-viewed the enchanting land-
scape around him, while the man of taste would be
absorbed as it were, in the midst of a new creation ;
and not an hour would pass, but what he would find
something to admire, or amuse him.
“The natural scenery of the Raquette is, however.RAQUETTE LAKE.
213
not so much distinguished for its sublimity as its
beauty. Unlike the lakes of Switzerland, those of
northern New York, making an extensive chain from
the Saranac waters to the Moose River Lakes, are not
surrounded by summits of perpetual snow, nor by
naked rocks towering one above another in fragmen-
tary peaks and disordered masses, but, for the most
part, especially the south-western, are surrounded by
gently-receding shores, swelling into moderate ridges,
and bounding the view with a clear and beautiful
outline of green hills—with here and there a conical
mountain-top elevated in the distance. Nor do we,
about the Raquette, discover any Alpine glaciers glit-
tering in the sun, or huge masses of ice thundering
down from their heights to the valleys below, but the
country is made up of a broad plateau, elegantly
varied upon its surface, and clothed by a rich and
luxurious forest, and excelling all the others in the
beauty of its situation, as well as in the fertility of
its soil.
“As we take a more particular view of this lake, and
the objects of interest in its immediate vicinity, we
are at first struck with the crystal purity of its
waters, and the irregularity of its form. Its waters214
THE ADIRONDACK.
are so clear, that objects on a bright, sunny day, can
be seen to the depth of thirty or forty feet—the
angler often finds himself in a state of suspense,
between hope and fear, as he looks into the depths of
the lake, and sees his speckled majesty darting about
the hook, artfully trying the bait.
The irregular form of the lake also, when the
whole from some eminence is brought under the eye
of the spectator, presents an interesting feature
in the prospect.	It is wholly embraced within
an area of seven miles square, and yet it is so in-
dented with deep bays, projecting points, and head-
lands, that it presents a shore of about fifty miles in
extent, varying to every point of the compass, and
marking the outlines of the lake, with a continuous
round of graceful curves and angles; all of which
are highly embellished by clusters of tall pines that
stand upon the points, and skirt the shores, flinging
their darkening shadows upon the water—while the
thick wood and level surface, that fall back for some
distance from the lake, gives a mellow aspect to the
whole, and a highly satisfying indication of the cha-
racter of the adjacent lands. But the islands that
dot the lake with their dark, green forms, in livelyTHE OSPRAY.
215
contrast with the silvery surface of the waters that
embrace them, are the most interesting objects con-
nected with this landscape. From fifteen to twenty
in number, they vary in size and form, from mere
islets that cluster together in fantastic groups, to those
of sufficient size for ordinary farms. Ospray Island,
lying across the bay, one mile south of Beach and
Woods, and half a mile west of Jos. Woods on
Ospray Point, contains about thirty acres. This island
derived its name from the ospray, that yearly builds
her nest and rears her young thereon. Her nest
is a prominent object in the view, being some three
feet in diameter, and planted upon the top of the high-
est of a cluster of stately pines; and is so strongly
interwoven with boughs and grass, as to resist the
wind and storm. The sportsman delights to gaze
upon this bird of solitude, as she returns from her ex-
cursions up the lake in quest of food, bearing the
struggling trout in her talons, while her unfledged
offspring, standing upon the verge of their aerial
house, with untutored voices and fluttering wings,
welcome her return. None disturb her domicile, or
question her right to protection.
“ Woods’ Island, containing about three hundred216
THE ADIRONDACK.
acres, lies in the southerly section of the lake. It
has a level surface, fine dry soil, shaded with a clean
and tasteful forest of beech and maple. In a warm
summer’s day, a ramble over this island, enjoying its
shady groves, its gentle breezes from the lake, and its
charming scenery, is truly delightful. Off its eastern
extremity is a group of four islands, of nearly equal
size, rising up out of the water, arid studding the
lake with their high conical forms, and their steep
yet graceful shores. To the south the eye ranges
along the blue surface of South Bay, until it rests
upon the white sand beach that encircles its extrem-
ity ; marking a line of separation between the land
and the water, as white as a line of snow. This
bay, moreover, is the favorite place of resort for the
sportsman. Here the stately buck, after trying his
speed with the hound, is wont to seek his safety by
plunging into the water—unconscious that there is a
worse enemy at hand, than the brute that hangs
upon his track.
“ Let the spectator overlook a scene like this, and
at the same time bring within the scope of his vision
the whole southern section of the lake, with its
islands, indented shores, and conterminous forests,HAUNTS OF TROUT.
217
and a richer and more picturesque view can scarcely
be imagined. Add to this the sullen stillness of the
wilderness, where nature, unmarred by the hand of
man, dwells in her primeval glory—her music the
pealing thunder—the eagle’s shrill voice—the wild
notes of the loon—and the sound of the gentle breeze
as it ruffles the surface of the lake—and no man of
sensibility can escape the enchantment.
“ The inlets of the lake form another interesting
feature connected with its scenery. These, for the
first few miles from the lake, move sluggishly along
the valleys, through which they pass with singular
tortuous windings, and of sufficient depth to float boats
of large size. In the warm summer months, these
inlets become the place of resort for the trout, where
they are often taken with the hook in great numbers.
They collect in schools around the cold springs that
make into the inlets, and if approached with care
and skill may be taken out, so eager are they for the
bait, to the last, in the school. They will even dash
at the hook as it approaches the surface of the water,
and as the pole from time to time bends under the
weight of its load, the skillful angler will deliberately
bring his unwary captive to the shore. The salmon,
10218
THE ADIRONDACK.
or lake trout, however, seeks his summer retreat in
the depths of the lake. These are usually found in
its northern section, and are taken from a boat, with
a long line let deep into the water. This is a more
sober business, and often taxes the patience of the
angler, before he feels the cautious bite—but if he is
so fortunate as to fix his bearded hook in the jaws of
his victim, he swells with pride and glories in his vic-
tory, as he plies the reel, or tugs at the line, and with
hand over hand draws the ponderous fish into the
boat. The largest trout of this description, known to
have been taken in the lake, weighed forty-five
pounds. Such a prize ought to satisfy the reasonable
ambition of any sportsman.
“ The Marion River is the largest inlet of the lake.
It comes in from the east, and forms the connecting
link between the Raquette and the Eckford Lakes.
The valley embracing this stream and the last men-
tioned lakes, extends due east from the Raquette
some twenty miles, and terminates at the base of
Mount Emmons, which flings up its round head and
giant form far above the blue range of hills that
stretch on to the southeast. Mount Emmons is the
most westerly of that group of high mountains thatA BEAUTIFUL LAKE.
219
occupy the section of country between the Eckford
Lakes and Lake Champlain; and overlooking the
valley of the Raquette, forms the most prominent
object in view towards the east. South and West
inlets are also navigable streams, but more tortuous,
if possible, in their course, than the Marion River.
The boatman in passing up the west inlet, rows four
miles to gain two in distance; he then arrives at the
portage between the Raquette and Moose River
waters.
“ Nearly opposite Indian Point, connected with the
Raquette by a small inlet only ten feet wide and four
rods in length, there is a beautiful little lake, about
one mile long and half a mile wide, of oval form, con-
cealed in a rich, dark forest, where the pine, spruce,
and hemlock, are gracefully intermixed with decidu-
ous trees. This lovely retreat, called Lake Eldon, is
protected from the winds in every direction, and
affords a calm and delightful resort.
“ Eagle Lake, which is an object of interest and
curiosity, lies about three miles due south from the
mouth of West Inlet, and two miles east of Eighth
Lake. It is of small dimensions, not varying essen-
tially from eighty chains in length, and forty in220
THE ADIRONDACK.
breadth. This lake was discovered under circum-
stances somewhat amusing; and in a manner that
presented its features in a bold and impressive aspect.
Two gentlemen with their packs on their backs, left
the east shore of Eighth Lake, in search of a lake
discovered by Prof. Emmons, lying in that vicinity ;
but, as afterwards appeared, to the south of the one
in question. After tugging some four or five hours,
and surmounting several high ridges, crossing valleys,
climbing over wind-falls, and tearing their way
through the thick under-brush, they came to the sum-
mit of a still higher ridge, covered with thick
spruces, so dense and dark, as to obstruct the view in
every direction. Here they seated themselves upon a
log to rest, and while calculating upon the probable
proximity to the object of their search, they were
startled by the cracking of the dry brush, under the
footsteps of some heavy animal. They had left their
trusty rifle behind them to lighten their burden, and
their only means of defence consisted in an antiquated
pistol, a family relic, that had seen much service,
but which in this age of revolvers and improvements
was, to say the least, of doubtful character. They,
however, placed themselves in a posture of defence—MYSTERIOUS RIDE.
221
the redoubtable knight of the pistol, holding on to his
anchorage on the log; while his defenceless compa-
nion veered round upon his stern, and took up his
position squat, in the rear—this last movement having
doubtless been made, not so much with a view to
personal protection, as to form a corps de reserve, to
fall upon the foe in the heat of the conflict. The
heavy footsteps of the beast drew near, but the
thicket still concealed him from their view. This
suspense, however, did not continue long; for in
due time, old Bruin presented his black visage,
raised himself erect upon his haunches, skinned his
teeth, uttered his hideous growl, and viewed the
strangers with his keen, black eye. After exchanging
glances for a short time, however, Bruin came to the
conclusion “that discretion was the better part of
valor,” and with manifest symptoms of alarm, turned
and fled, with the bullet from old ’76 whistling
through the thicket, in pursuit. Thus ended the
fright and the bloodless contest, probably to the entire
satisfaction of both parties concerned. But this ad-
venture was followed by another, if not so dangerous,
yet somewhat more amusing—which gave the name
to the lake in question. Our travelers having been222
THE ADIRONDACK.
relieved from their unwelcome visitor, concluded,
before they proceeded on with their journey, to take
an observation from the high grounds where they
were, with a view to examine the country to the
south and east, and discover, if possible, the position
of the lake, which was the object of their search. To
accomplish this purpose, the knight of the pistol
volunteered his services to climb a tall spruce that
stood near by; and accordingly flung aside his pack,
pulled off his boots, and depositing them with his
armor, at the foot of the tree, commenced the ascent.
After climbing some fifty or sixty feet, his ears were
suddenly pierced by the screams of a huge eagle, and
his face at the same time brushed by her wings,
and torn by her claws. As the enraged bird passed
round her airy circuit, repeating her sharp and threat-
ening notes, the eye of the adventurer fell upon a
deep, black lake below him, and he for the first time
discovered that the tree he had ascended stood upon
the brink of a precipice of fearful height, overhanging
the dark abyss where the jealous bird of liberty had
planted her nest, and secured her young. By this
time the gathering foe had again made her circle,
and coming like an arrow through the air, pouncedFIGHT WITH AN EAGLE.
223
upon his head, and striking her talons through his
cap and wig, tore them from his naked scalp, and
hurled them to the ground. Not exactly a back out,
but a back down, was the immediate result—and the
vanquished knight, as he landed upon terra firma,
audibly thanked his stars, and remarked to his com-
panion, that his satisfaction was unbounded; seeing
that the matter had ended no worse—and as they pro-
ceeded to gather up the “ duds,” they entered upon a
discourse, wherein the rules of chivalry were gravely
considered, and a decision soberly made, that there
was no loss of honor in the affair; since such cases
were of rare occurrence and did not happen under
those circumstances by which a man’s courage and
valor were ordinarily tested.
On examining the lake, it was found that it was
nearly surrounded by rocks, for the most part of per-
pendicular ascent, rising like a wall of masonry with
its face to the lake, and from two to three hundred
feet above the surface of the water. It was of oval
form, and gave the appearance of an immense reser-
voir prepared by art—a section of its western wall,
however, overhung the water, forming a high arched
cavern beneath. No streams were discovered falling224
THE ADIRONDACK.
into the lake, but an outlet, running constautly from
it, was noticed at the extreme south end, where the
heights became depressed and fell to a level with the
surface of this secluded yet interesting object of
nature. A day spent in visiting this little lake will
well repay the toil and labor it will cost.
Our travelers took an easterly direction from this
point; and after undergoing the fatigue of the day,
wearied to excess, hungry, chafed, and with their
faces swollen from the bite of the poisonous flies, they
arrived at night at an old hunter’s lodge (near the
lower falls of South Inlet) covered with bark, and as
usual in such half-decayed shanties, filled with filth
and vermin. Here necessity drove them to take up
their quarters for the night—they accordingly struck
up a fire, disposed of a few hard crackers, and a rem-
nant of unsavory venison well jammed and mellowed,
and before the light of day had fully disappeared,
flung themselves down to rest. But the process of
hardening against the bite of the flea, as a necessary
preparation for sleep, was to be undergone; and
while this was in progress, the agonizing knight of the
pistol rolled over upon his back, drew up his knees,
and with his journal and pencil in hand, gave vent toSETTLERS.
225
his experience in a poetical stanza—which he then
and there entered down upon his diary, as follows:
u 1 In this rude spot, where weary pilgrims rest,
With bugs, and fleas, and fetid venison blessed,
With swollen limbs, unfit to rest or range,
We breathe the smoke of Catamount Exchange.
Meanwhile, our eyes are closed, by poisonous gnats and flies,
And ’	*	*	*	*	*
“ It is proper to remark, that the interesting section
of country connected with the Raquette is now flung
open to easy access, by the recent completion of the
Champlain and Carthage road, which passes near the
northern shore of Raquette Lake. Light carriages,
and teams with heavy loads, may pass from Lake
Champlain, or the Black River valley, to this lake.
Township forty, embracing the most desirable section
of land in that vicinity, already contains a few fami-
lies who have broken into the wilderness and com-
menced their improvements; and the prospect is,
that this township will soon be occupied by pros-
perous and enterprising settlers. Those who reside
there, not only enjoy their beautiful localities, pure
water, and healthful atmosphere, but their crops
of Indian corn, wheat, potatoes, and garden veget-
10*226
THE ADIRONDACK.
ables. The first persons who came into this town-
ship were Messrs. Beach and Woods, who planted
their rude dwelling upon Indian Point, command-
ing a most interesting view of the lake and its
islands. The case of Mr. Woods should not pass
unnoticed; as it furnishes an instance of man’s
capacity to overcome the serious deprivations rarely
to be found. By exposure in the woods and snow
through a cold winter’s night, his feet and limbs
were so badly frozen, that it became necessary to
amputate both below the knee joints. Since that
time he has used his knees as a substitute for feet;
and, strange as it may seem, he follows his line of
traps for miles through the wilderness, or with rifle in
hand, hops through the woods in pursuit of deer. He
may be seen plying his oars, and driving his little
bark over the lakes and along the streams ; and when
he comes to a portage, the upturned boat will sur-
mount his head, and take its course to the adjacent
waters. His is a case that proves that there are
instances in reality, c where truth is stranger than
fiction.’ ”
Yours, &c.XXV.
SIGHTS AND SOUNDS----BEACH AND WOODS----A VISIT OP
THIRTY MILES MADE BY A WOMAN.
Raquette Lake, August.
Dear H------:
You can spend days and weeks around the Ra-
quette, sailing over its beautiful waters, penetrating
its deep and quiet bays, taking trout at every cast of
your line, aud killing a deer whenever you choose to
put forth the effort. The sun rises on you from this
green wilderness fresh as when it first looked on crea-
tion, and sets as lovingly in the mass of green, on the
western slope, as though it had seen no sin and suf-
fering in its course.
Let the light canoe rock awhile on the tiny waves
that this glorious western breeze, redolent with the
kiss of leaves, and pure from its long dalliance with
nature, has set in motion. The shadows are flitting228
THE ADIRONDACK.
like sweet visions along that far-stretching slope of
brilliant green, and disappear one after another over
the summit. Yonder is a deer walking up and down
the shore in the water, ever and anon lifting his ant-
lered head, lest the garish day might reveal him to
some lurking foe; and lo, there comes his consort,
her white breast shining amid the leaves, as she also
steps forth to drink. And here, out of this narrow
cove, completely enveloped in bushes that sweep the
water, and reeds that grow almost across its entrance
—which seems to lurk in perpetual ambush on the
shore—a wild duck from the Atlantic is leading forth
her brood which she has hatched in this far-seques-
tered spot. What a chattering they make as they
swim after the proud matron who is pushing boldly
for a point near by. They move in the form of the
figure Y inverted, and the still water of the cove as-
sumes the same shape clear to the shore. But the
ever-watchful mother has caught sight of our boat,
and prattling to her offspring, is off with incredible
speed. She knows her young cannot fly, and hence
will not rise herself from the water. True to her
maternal instinct, she is willing to bide the worst, but
both wings and feet of the whole chattering squadronMATERNAL INSTINCT.
229
are in full play, making the lake foam where they
pass. There, you are once more in the reeds, settling
yourselves with a vast deal of self-congratulation into
composure again, while your black heads and eyes
turn and nod to catch the first approach of danger.
Poor things, you are safe here; but next fall every rod
of your flight from Montauk Point to Barnegat Bay,
will be disturbed by the shot of the sportsman, and
scarcely a pair of you will be left to revisit this far
retreat again!
Vain dreaming this, I know, but the listless mood
is upon me, and I cannot pull a strong and steady and
practical stroke. The waves are out on a frolic—the
deer stand idly lashing their tails in the water—the
great, green forest just rustles to show that the
leaves are all at play—the clouds move lazily across
the sky and all nature seems dreaming in this fresh
noon-day—and why should I not drink in the influ-
ence of the scene ? I know a hard afternoon’s toil is
before me, and a bivouack on the ground at night, yet
I seem enchained here by beauty. Sad thoughts and
gentle feelings rise one after another an indistinguish-
able throng, and strange memories long since buried,
come back with overpowering freshness. Here the230
THE ADIRONDACK.
great world of strife and toil speaks not, and its fierce
struggles for gain seem the madness of the maniac.
You do not hate it—you pity it, and pity yourself that
you ever loved it. The good you had forgotten re-
turns, for nature wakes up the dead divinity within
you, and rouses the soul to purer, nobler purposes.
Besides, all things are free about me—the leap of the
wave—the dash of the mountain stream—the flight
of the eagle—the song of the wind, and the swaying of
trees—all, all are free. Unmarred, unstained, the
bright and happy world is spread out in my sight:
“ Ah, when the wild turmoil of this wearisome life,
With its scenes of oppression, corruption, and strife)
The proud man’s power, and the base man’s fear—
The scorner’s laugh, and the sufferer’s tear—
And malice, and meanness, and falsehood, and folly,
Dispose me to musing and dark melancholy :
When my bosom is full, and my thoughts are high,
And my soul is sick with the bondman’s sigh—
Oh, then, there is freedom, and joy, and pride,
Afar through the 1 forest’ alone to ride,
With the death-fraught firelock in my hand,
The only law of the desert land.”
But to return to practical matters: yonder comesBEACH AND WOODS.
231
the boat of Woods and Beach, the two solitary dwell-
ers of this region. It is rather a singular coincidence
that the only two inhabitants of this wilderness
should be named Woods and Beach. I should not
wonder if the next comers should be called “Hem-
lock” and 66 Pine” These two men have killed
hundreds of deer since they settled down here to-
gether, and a great many moose. Their leisure hours
they spend in preparing the furs they have taken, and
in tanning the deer skins, of which they make mittens.
They need something during the long winter days and
evenings for employment. When the snow is five feet
deep on the level, and the ice three and four feet
thick on the lake, and not the sign of a human foot-
step any where to be seen, the smoke of their cabin
rises in the frosty air like a column in the desert—
enhancing instead of relieving the solitude. The
pitch pine supplies the place of candles, and the deep,
red light from their humble window, at night, must
present a singular contrast with the rude waste of
snow, and the leafless forest around them.
When a quantity of these mittens are made up,
Beach straps on his snow shoes, and with his trusty
rifle in his hand, carries them out to the settlements,232
THE ADIRONDACK.
where they meet with a ready sale—for mittens made
here in the woods are known to be “made upon
honor.” No buff-colored sheepskin comes from the
shores of Raquette Lake, nor is the stout buckskin
spoiled by destructive materials used to expedite the
tanning.
Since the above was written, I am informed by my
friend B—n that another family, composed of a man,
his wife, and seven children, has emigrated to Ra-
quette Lake. This woman—the only one now on the
shores of the Raquette—took, last summer, an infant
six months old, and a daughter fourteen years of age,
and started for a clearing thirty miles distant, on a
visit. Now carrying the boat on her head around the
rapids—in one place two miles on a stretch while
the girl lugged along the infant and oars—now stem-
ming the swift current, and anon floating over the bo-
som of a calm lake, she pursued her toilsome way—
accomplishing the thirty miles by night. What think
you of that ? As Captain Cuttle would say, “ she is
a woman as is a woman.” To make a visit of
thirty miles through an unbroken forest, with a babe
six months old, and a girl only fourteen years of age,
and carry and row her own boat the whole distance,VISIT OF THIRTY MILES.
233
is “spinning street yarn” on a large scale. I hope
she had a glorious gossip to pay her for her trouble.
It shows most conclusively that the visiting propen-
sity. so strong in woman, is not a conventional thing,
but inherent—belonging to her very nature.
This woman deserves to be the first on Raquette
Lake. She bids fair to have seven children more, and
I trust, when she dies, a monument will be erected to
her memory.
Yours, &c.XXVI.
MOOSE LAKES--“ MURDERER’S POINT*’-A GRAVE IN THE
FOREST--TROUTING--A FAMILY OF THIRTEEN GIRLS--
RIDING “BARE BACK5’-A CURIOUS HORSE RACE.
August.
Dear H-------
From the Raquette your nearest way out of the
woods is towards the Black River country. Ascend-
ing the Brown Tract Inlet four miles, you carry your
boat over a portage two miles in extent to the Eighth
Moose Lake, which forms the summit level of the
waters of this region—those on the west flowing west
into the Black River. This sheet of water is the first
of a chain of lakes, eight in number, connected by
streams, and forming a group of surpassing beauty.
Being on the height of land, it is filled wholly by
springs and rills, and of course its water is unrivalled
in clearness and coldness. It is completely embo-MOOSE LAKES.
235
somed in trees, while a beach ot sand, white as the
driven snow, and almost as fine as table salt, shows
between the green frame work of the forest and the
lake, presenting a beautiful and strange contrast
here in this land of rocks and cliffs. The bottom is
composed of this white sand also, and can be seen
through the clear water at an astonishing depth. In
such cold water, with such a clear bottom, how can
the trout be otherwise than delicious ?
This charming sheet of water is about three miles
in length, with an average width of a mile and a
half.
The seven lakes that follow are not a mere repeti-
tion of the first, but vary both in size and shape, with
a different frame-work of hills. The change is ever
from beauty to beauty, yet a separate description
would seem monotonous.
There they repose, like a bright chain in the forest,
the links connected by silver bars. You row slowly
through one to its outlet, and then, entering a clear
stream, overhung with bushes, or fringed with lofty
trees, seem to be suddenly absorbed by the wilder-
ness. At length, however, you emerge as from a
cavern, and lo! an untroubled lake, with all its varia-236
THE ADIRONDACK.
tions of coast, and timber, and islands, greets the eye.
Through this you also pass like one in a dream,
wondering why such beauty is wasted where the eye
of man rarely beholds it. Another narrow outlet
receives you, and guiding your frail canoe along the
rapid current, you are again swallowed up by the
wilderness, to be horn anew in a lovelier scene. Thus
on, as if under a wizard’s spell, you move along,
alternately lost in the narrow channels, and strug-
gling to escape the rocks on which the current would
drive you, then floating over a broad expanse, extend-
ing as far as the eye can see into the mountains
beyond.
A ride through these eight lakes is an episode in a
man’s life he can never forget. It furnishes a new
experience—gives rise to a new train of thoughts and
feelings, and opens to the dweller of our cities an
entirely new world.
They vary in size from two to six miles, except
the fifth and eighth, which are mere ponds. Thus, for
more than twenty miles, you float through this prime-
val wilderness in a skiff* that can be carried on the
head, and yet are not compelled to take it from theA GRAVE IN THE FOREST.
237
water but once, the whole distance, and then only
to pass over some five hundred yards.
Near the foot of the first lake, (or last in the
route,) is “murderer’s point,” where a white man,
some ten years since, shot an Indian. The latter,
who was trapping around these waters, in some way
gave offence to the white hunter, whose name was
Johnson. A quarrel ensued, and the Indian was
killed. Whether the murder was committed in the
heat of a sudden fight, or in cold blood, is not known
—the forest alone witnessed the bloody transaction:
yet there, on the shore of that lonely river, sleeps the
poor savage. A simple wooden cross, erected by some
of his tribe, stands over the grave, awakening sad
emotions in the breast of the wanderer. If it were
on an open bank it would not seem so solitary,
but surrounded as it is by an interminable forest, it
looks fearfully forlorn.
By one of those singular discoveries which so often
detect the murderer, Johnson was convicted of the
crime. The people of Herkimer County, however,
claiming him as their criminal, he was tried there
and acquitted, and carried about the town on men’s
shoulders. The good Dutchmen of that county had238
THE ADIRONDACK.
suffered so much in former times from the depre-
dations of the Indians, that they considered the
man a public benefactor, rather than murderer,
who slew one. To hang a man for killing an In-
dian was a monstrous absurdity—they would as
soon think of punishing him for shooting a rattle-
snake or wolf.
You cannot conceive the shock one feels in coming
on a spot in the forest, where a murder has been com-
mitted. In the streets of a crowded city, or on
the highway, all remembrance of the deed is soon
effaced—changes take place, and the mere fact that
ten thousand other things have transpired since it
occurred, serves to weaken the associations connected
with it, and indeed removes it much farther off. But
in the still woods, the solitary grave and you are
alone together. . The motionless trunks seem stern
watchers there; and you impart a consciousness to the
sleeper, and imagine that the uneven surface around
him was made by the fierce death-struggle, and that
the leaves are yet tinted with his blood. I have often
thought that a murderer in the heart of a boundless
forest must feel more restless and wretched than if he
were in a crowd of men. The suspicious eyes of hisCONSCIENCE.
239
fellows could be encountered with far more firmness
than those of that invisible presence which seems there
to surround him. There is no way to escape himself
—nothing to resist or to dare. “ The scowl of revenge
or stare of defiance, may be met, for there is a visi-
ble object” on which the passions can act; but to
struggle with conscience—to hush the awful voice of
law which God’s universe about him is thundering in
his ear, is a hopeless task.
Near the last of this chain of lakes is a small sheet
of water called Moose Lake, from its being a favorite
haunt of moose. Like the first mentioned in the
group, it is embosomed in trees, but no mountains
rise from its shores. It has also a beach of incom-
parable whiteness, and the bottom of the lake looks
like a vast bed of fine white salt. As you sit in your
boat, you can see it glittering beneath at an immense
depth, while ever and anon a huge trout flits like a
shadow over it. A certain judge and his lady are ac-
customed in summer to come from the western set-
tlements, and camp out for two or three weeks at a
time on its shores, and fish. The lady, accomplished
and elegant, enjoys the recreation amazingly, and once
caught herself a trout weighing nineteen pounds.240
THE ADIRONDACK.
There are no islands upon it, but a long green pro-
montory almost cuts it in two, from which you get an
entrancing view of the whole lake.
My friend B-------n, with a hunter, had great sport
here one day. He did not fish over an hour, and yet
in that short time, took a hundred and twenty pounds
of trout, and left them biting as sharp and fast as
when he began, doing back through the lake to-
wards Brown’s tract, two moose with their broad-
spreading horns and huge black forms, were seen
standing on the shore. They can see to an astonishing
distance ; and at the first glimpse of the boat, they
wheeled into the woods and made off. One, however,
was killed the next day. Deer were stumbled on al-
most every half mile. B---------n said he counted six,
two of which the rifle of the hunter fetched down. A
deer seems unable to measure distance correctly on
the water, or else reasons very poorly on what he sees;
for if a man will approach noiselessly and without
changing his posture, he can often, in broad daylight,
get within fair shooting range.
To strike through the woods, it is only about five
miles from the head of this lake to “ Brown’s tract,”
as it is called, where the signs of civilized life first ap-brown’s tract.
241
pear, though it will be a great mistake if when you
get here you imagine yourself “ out of the ivoods”—
a long road yet remains to be traveled.
This “ tract” receives its name from John Brown,
formerly governor of Rhode Island. Some fifty years
ago, he bought two hundred thousand acres here—all
wilderness—with the intention of forming a large set-
tlement. By presents of land and putting up at his
own expense, mills and a forge for the manufacture
of iron, he induced many families to migrate—at
one time, it is said, there were thirty located in
this solitary spot. But at that period, there was not a
single public improvement west of Albany, hence
there were no facilities for getting to market. Added
to this, the land was cold and unproductive—the win-
ters long and severe, which so disheartened the set-
tlers that they one after another left. Governor
Brown, who had constantly furnished large supplies
at length died, and then the colony broke up.
Three thousand acres had been cleared up, which
now lies a vast common, with only one inhabitant to
cultivate it. He occupies it without being owner, yet
pays no rent, and no taxes : the Robinson Crusoe of
this little territory, he has what he can raise, and no
ll"242
THE ADIRONDACK.
one to dispute his domain. The log dwellings of the
settlers have all rotted away—the mills fallen in upon
the mill stones, and the forge upon the hammers.
One house alone, which formerly belonged to the
agent, remains standing; and in this Arnold and his
family reside. Boonville, twenty miles distant, is
the nearest settlement. Yet here he lives contented,
year after year, with his family of thirteen children—
twelve girls and one boy—by turns trapping, shooting
and cultivating his fields. The agricultural part,
however, is performed mostly by the females who
plow, sow, rake, bind, &c., equal to any farmer. Two
of the girls threshed alone, with common flails, Jive
hundred bushels of oats in one winter, while their
father and brother were away trapping for marten.
Occupying such a large tract of land, and cultivating
as much as he chooses, he is able to keep a great
many cattle, and has some excellent horses which
these girls of his ride with a wildness and recklessness
that makes one tremble for their safety. You will
often see five or six of them, each on her own horse,
some astraddle, and some sideways, yet all “bare
back i. e. without any saddle, racing it like mad
creatures over the huge common. They sit (I wasCURIOUS HORSE RACE.	243
going to say their saddles) their horses beautifully;
and with their hair streaming in the wind, and dresses
flying about their white limbs and bare feet, careering
across the plains, they look wild and spirited enough
for Amazons. They frequently ride without a bridle
or even halter, guiding the horse by a motion or stroke
of the hand. "What think you of a dozen fearless girls
mounted on fleet horses, without a saddle, on a dead
run ? I should like to see them going down Broadway.
Yet they are modest and retiring in their manners,
and mild and timid as fawns among strangers.
There was a lad about nineteen years of age with
my friend B-----n, whom one of these girls challenged
to a race. He accepted it, and they whipped their
horses to the top of their speed. The barn, nearly a
mile distant, was to be the goal. Away they went,
pell-mell—the girl without a saddle, across the field.
The boy plied the whip lustily, ashamed to be beaten
by a woman, yet he fell behind, full a hundred yards.
Mortified at his discomfiture, and the peal of laughter
that went up, he hung his head, saying it was no
fault of his, for she had the best horse. She then
offered to exchange with him, and try the race over.
This was fair, and he was compelled to accept the244
THE ADIRONDACK.
second challenge. Taking their old station, they
started again. It would have done a jockey good to
have seen that stout frontier youth use his whip, and
beat his horse’s ribs with his heels, and heard him
yell. But all would not do—that girl sat quietly
leaning over her steed’s neck ; and with her low, clear
chirrup, and her sharp, well-planted blows inspired
the beaten animal wfith such courage and speed, that
he seemed to fly over the ground, and she came out
full as far ahead as before. The poor fellow had to
give up beaten, humiliating as it was, and the girl
with a smile of triumph, slipped the bridle from her
nag’s head, and turned him loose in the fields to
graze.
The mother, however, is the queen of all wood-
man’s wives—but you must see her and hear her
talk, to appreciate her character. If she will not
stump the coolest, most hackneyed man of the world
that ever faced a woman, I will acknowledge myself
to have committed a very grave error of judgment.
Her husband’s usaple line” as she termed it, (sable
line,) that is line of trapping, is thirty miles long, and
he is often absent on it several days at a time.
It is thirty miles through the woods to Boonville,RETURN ROUTE.
245
from whence you can easily make your way to
Rome.
My next will be on my return route through Forked
and Long Lakes, and the woods to Warren County.
Yours truly.xxvn.
LOST IN THE WOODS--AN OLD INDIAN AND HIS DAUGHTER--
FAREWELL TO MITCHELL------MOSQUITOES AND BLACK
FLIES.
In the Woods, August.
Dear H------:
It was with weary forms and saddened hearts that
we left this morning our encampment on Forked
Lake, and turned the prows of our boats homeward.
A person who has never traveled in the woods, cannot
appreciate the feelings of regret with which one leaves
the spot where he has once pitched his tent. The
half-extinguished firebrands scattered around—the
broken sticks that for the time being seemed valuable
as silver forks, and the deserted shanty, all have a
desolate appearance, and it seems like forsaking trusty
friends, to leave them there alone in the forest.
The morning was sombre, and the wind fresh as weLOST IN THE WOODS.
247
pulled down the lake, and again entered the narrow
river that pierced so adventurously the dark bosom of
the forest. The fatiguing task of carrying our boats
was performed over again, with the additional burden
of a deer we had partially consumed. At one portage
P-----, with two rifles and an overcoat as his part of
the freight, started off in advance of the rest. We
were each of us too much engaged with our own af-
fairs to notice the direction he took ; but supposing, of
course, he was ahead, pushed on. But as we came to
the next launching place, he was nowhere to be found.
“He has gone on, I guess,” said one, “to the next
carrying place.” We shouted, but the echo of our
own voices was the only reply the sullen woods sent
back, and one was despatched farther on to ascertain
whether our conjecture was true. The report was
soon brought back that P-------- was nowhere to be
found. I, by this time, began to feel somewhat
alarmed, for the lost one was my brother, and taking
Mitchell with me, hastened back towards the spot
where he had parted from us. I shouted aloud, but
the deep waterfall drowned my voice, and its mo-
notonous roar seemed mocking my anxious halloo. I
then fired my rifle, but the sharp report was fol-248
THE ADIRONDACK.
lowed only by its own echo. Mitchell then dis-
charged his, and after listening anxiously awhile, we
heard a shot far up the river. Soon after, “bang,
bang,” went two more guns in the same direction.
The poor fellow had heard our shots, and fearing we
might not hear his in return, and hence take a
wrong direction in pursuit of him, just stood, and
loaded and fired as fast as he could. When we
found him he was as pale as marble, and looked like
one who had been in a state of complete bewilderment.
On leaving us, instead of going down stream as he
should have done, he turned directly up. After
awhile he came out on the bank of, to him, a strange
river. As it was on the wrong side to be the one we
had floated down, he thought he must have crossed
over to another, but finally concluded it would be the
safest course to retrace his steps. This he was doing
to the best of his ability when he heard our rifle shots.
We scolded him for his stupidity in thus causing us
alarm and delay, which, he very coolly remarked was
neither very just nor sensible, and then trudged on.
One gets lost in the woods when he least expects it.
Awhile ago, a man from the settlements, a hunter,
too, left the shores of Long Lake, with a dog toDEATH BY STARVATION.
249
start a deer on the mountain, for a friend who was to
watch in the boat. He left his rifle behind him so as
to climb the mountain more easily, but after beating
about awhile, got lost. Three days after the hound
came home with a long gash in his side, and in a
week or so more the body of the master was found on
the shore of the lake. The dog evidently clung to
him faithfully, till the man—having no gun with
which to kill game—had endeavored to stab him for
food. With this he left him, and the poor wretch
wandered about, till prostrated by hunger, he laid
down and died.
Towards night B-------n and myself arrived with
Mitchell at his hut, where he found his aged Indian
father and young sister waiting his return. “ Old
Peter,” as he is called, is now over eighty years of
age. He shakes with the palsy, and is constantly
muttering to himself in a language half French and
half Indian, while his daughter scarcely twenty years
old, is silent as a statue. She is quite pretty, and her
long hair is not straight like that of her race, but
hangs in waving masses around her bronzed neck and
shoulders. She will speak to no one, not even to
answer a question, except to her father and brother.
11*250
THE ADIRONDACK.
I have tried in vain to make her say no or yes, but
she invariably turns to her father or Mitchell, and
makes them answer. This old man still roams the
forest, and stays where night overtakes him.
It was sad to look upon his once powerful frame,
now bowed and tottering, while his thick gray hair
hung like a huge mat around his wrinkled and
seamed visage. His tremulous hand and faded eye
could no longer send the unerring rifle ball to its
mark, and he was compelled to rely on a rusty fowl-
ing-piece. Everything about him was in keeping—
even his dog was a mixture of the wolf and dog, and
was the quickest creature I ever saw move: his very
gambols frightened me, for when leaping to a caress,
his bound was so quick and eager, that he seemed
about to tear me in pieces—indeed it was always a
dubious matter with me, when I approached him,
whether he intended to play or fight.
But poor old Peter cannot stand another winter, I
fear,—and some lonely night, in the lonely forest,
that dark-haired maiden will see him die, far from
human habitations; and her slender arm will carry
his corpse many a weary mile, to rest among his tribe.
As I have seen her deoked out with water-lilies, pad-INDIAN MAIDEN.
251
dling that old man over the lake, I have sighed over
her fate. She seems wrapt up in him, and to have
but one thought—one purpose of life—to guard and
nurse her parent. The hour that sees her sitting
by the camp-fire beside her dead father, will wit-
ness a grief as intense and desolate as ever visited
a more cultivated bosom. Grod help her then. I
can conceive of no sadder sight than that forsaken
maiden, in some tempestous night, sitting all in the
forest, holding the dead or dying head of her father,
while the moaning winds sing his dirge, and the
flickering fire sheds a ghastly light on the scene.
How strong is habit. That old man cannot be per-
suaded to sit down in peace beneath a quiet roof—
ministered to and cherished as his wants require—but
still clings to his wandering life, and endures hunger,
cold, and fatigue, and wanders houseless and home-
less. He continues to hunt, though his shot seldom
strikes down a deer; and he still treads the forest,
though his trembling limbs but half perform their
office, and his aged shoulders groan under the burden
of his light canoe. I saw him looking at a handful of
specimens of birch bark he had collected, and balanc-252
THE ADIRONDACK.
ing which to choose as material for a new canoe. He
still looks forward to years of hunting, and days of
toil, when the bark of life is already touching those
dark waters that roll away from this world and all it .
contains.
Aug. 31.—Yesterday as I was leaving Long Lake,
I met the old Indian and his daughter just starting on
their return journey of a hundred and fifty miles.
The father was sitting in the middle of the bark
canoe on the bottom, while the daughter occupied the
stern and paddled the boat. Her head was uncovered,
and her long hair which almost swept the water,
was filled with white lilies she had plucked by the
shore. Noiseless and steady swept on the frail craft,
impelled by her sinewy arm—stretching down the
middle of the lake towards the dark outlet. It was a
sad sight to behold spring and winter thus united, one
decked out in flowers and the other covered with the
frosts of time, and know the fate before them. I
watched their lessening forms till they were a mere
speck in the distance, and then struck across the
lake and began my fifty miles stretch through the
woods.
Mitchell accompanied us several miles on our way,253
MO SCIOTO!-: 3.
as if loth to leave us. In parting I gave him a canis-
ter of powder, a pocket compass, and a small spy-
glass, to keep as mementos of me, and shook his
honest hand with as much regret as I ever did that of
a white man. I shall long remember him—he is a
man of deeds and not of words—kind, gentle, delicate
in his feelings, honest and true as steel. I would
start on a journey of a thousand miles in the woods
with him alone, without the slightest anxiety, al-
though I carried a million of dollars about my person.
I never lay down beside a trustier heart than his, and
never slept sounder than I have with one arm thrown
across his brawny chest.
There is one thing I have not mentioned, which
mars very much a tramp through these woods—I
mean the mosquitoes and black flies. The latter dis-
appear about the first of July, but the former are like
the locusts of Egypt. However, I was troubled less
than I anticipated—on the lakes the fresh wind drives
them away, and at night your camp fire keeps them
off. In the woods of a damp, still morning, or just at
evening, away from a fire, they assail one by bat-
talions. Hence, fishing along the inlets or outlets is
often a protracted agony. I once stood on a rock and254
THE ADIRONDACK.
dragged my fly over a pool so crowded with trout that
half a dozen would be on the surface at once, and
yet by the time I had taken ten or fifteen, I was
compelled to fling down my rod and run and scream,
for the blood was pouring in rivulets from my neck,
face and hands. If, however, you are where you can
sit in a boat, by placing some earth in the bottom of
it, and building a little fire, (a “ smudge,”) you may
fish quite comfortably.
I mention the mosquitoes solely to relieve my con-
science, so that no one—if any may be tempted here
by my descriptions—shall say I have deceived him.
However, I never suffered more from their bite than I
have on Long Island. A green veil wrapped around
the face and neck when traveling, is often a great
protection.
Sept. 1. The fifty miles of forest were safely
made, and with a pair of antlers on one side of my
\ ^ .
saddle, and a noble pheasant I shot with my rifle, on
the other, I landed at an humble dwelling where I
had left my traps, and was soon accoutered again like
a civilized man.
Yours truly.iC 'DS' Eg, S © LKj [ft © @XXVIII.
SCHROON LAKE--A NUT FOR SPORTSMEN---WOODS ON FIRE.
Schroon Lake.
Dear H------:
Lake Schroon is some nine miles long, gently wav-
ing in its shape and dotted with green islands. Some
have compared it to Lake Como—from one point it
bears an exact resemblance in shape to the neck of a
swan. It is a most beautiful sheet of water—the
shores sloping down to it on one side like those of
Skaneateles, and a bold mountain kneeling in it on
the other. At the foot is the residence of Mr. Ben-
thuysen, commanding one of the finest views I have
ever seen. The lake here is narrow, and as it half
encircles the house, it looks like the Hudson River in
its windings. There could hardly be a more pic-
turesque situation for a summer residence; and in
England it would soon be crowned by a magnificent256
THE ADIRONDACK.
pile of buildings. The lake should be called
“ Scaroon,” from a French family that first gave it
the name—the rapid way of pronouncing it has
changed it into Sehroon. The water is very pure and
cold, and salmon trout were once found in it in abun-
dance. Latterly, however, they have become more
scarce, so four years since some men living on its
banks got a few pickerel and put them in as a basis
of a new stock of fish. It was agreed on all hands
not to take any out for four years. The time being
expired this spring, they commenced spearing them,
and the quantities they have caught almost surpasses
belief. Hundreds of pounds have been taken, some of
the fish, weighing tivelve and thirteen pounds. The
rapidity with which they bred is equalled only by the
ratio of increase in size, for a growth of four pounds
per annum in weight is almost incredible. It was
doubtless owing to the abundance and richness of the
food and the perfect adaptness of the water to their
wants and habits. Fish of all kinds are easily
affected by the place they are in, and the quantity and
kind of food with which they are supplied. A trout
kept in a well, though fed ever so bounteously will
scarcely gain a pound in three years, while I haveHABITS OF FISH.
257
seen those that weighed two ounces in June, by hav-
ing fine food and water, weigh six in August. The
spawn that run up the cool streamlets into meadows
where the water is always fresh and filled with
worms or grasshoppers, will treble their size in two
months. There is another curious fact about trout
and pickerel as well as some other species of fresh
water fish—their size will vary in proportion to the
magnitude of the pond or lake they inhabit. Thus
you will find in two lakes in Massachusetts, lying side
by side—one, a half a mile round, and the other three
miles, the same fish differing altogether in size. In
the latter you will take a great many pickerel weigh-
ing three and four pounds, and now and then one
much larger, while in the former the average weight
will be from eight to eighteen ounces.
THE WOODS ON FIRE.
Last night witnessed a scene of sublimity that
baffles all attempts to describe it worthily—for the
forests all around were a mass of surging, tossing,
billowy flame. I have seen the woods on fire upon
Long Island, when the flames traveled so rapidly
that a man on horseback could scarcely, at an easy258
THE ADIRONDACK.
gallop, keep ahead of them—and it was a grand spec-
tacle. The vast columns of smoke rolling into the
heavens, yet leaning eagerly forward, as if straining
on the chase—the lambent tongues of flame, shooting
at intervals above the murky mass that hugged the
tree tops, and the steady roar, like that of the surge,
filled me with new ideas of terror and sublimity.
The rabbits and foxes in countless numbers, smelling
the danger from afar, scoured the thickets in every
direction—the deer ran frightened from their haunts,
and nature herself seemed to stand aghast at the fury
of the devouring element. But the leaves and shrubs
alone fed the flames—the tall trees were only scathed
and blackened, which, together with the lowness of
the land, lessened and concealed the effect of the
scene.
A prairie on fire is simply a mass of flame, rush-
ing like a race horse over the ground—terrible to
behold, but exhibiting a sameness in its aspect that
leaves no room to the imagination. But a mountain
of magnificent timber ablaze is another matter—from
base to ridge your eye takes in the whole extent, and
you look on a bosom of fire, from which rise waving
columns and lofty turrets of flame.FIRE IN THE WOODS.
259
There has been a long drought in this section,
which so dried up everything combustible, that the
forest became one great tinder box, needing only a
spark to make a conflagration. This was accident-
ally furnished by some men burning a fallow. First
a column of blue smoke began to ascend through
the trees, which rapidly swelled in size and increased
in velocity, until at length the fire got under way, and
took up its fierce march, and by night the whole
mountain was wrapt in a fiery mantle. It came roar-
ing down to the clearing where I stood, threatening to
leap over the narrow barrier, in its eagerness to burst
all bonds that would restrain it. Trees a hundred
feet high, and five and six and eight feet in circumfer-
ence, were on fire from the root to the top—vast pyr-
amids of flame, now surging in the eddies of air that
caught them, now bending as if about to yield the
struggle, then lifting superior to the foe, and dying,
martyr-like, in the vast furnace. One tree enlisted
for awhile all my sympathies—it was a noble stem,
and stood for a long time erect and motionless amid
the enveloping smoke and flame, sometimes buried
from my sight and then appearing again—its black
form looming mysteriously through the murky cloud260
THE ADIRONDACK.
that shrouded it, as though defying its enemy. Even
after the blaze had curled itself around the entire
trunk, and run out to the extreme limits of the
branches, it still retained its calm and dignified aspect
—its head, and body, and arms reaching out into the
night, all on fire, and yet scorning to show signs of
pain. At length, however, the heat seemed to have
reached its vitals, for it suddenly swung backward, as
if in agony, while a shower of embers fell like sky
rockets around the blazing outline, to its roots. Shorn
of its glory, the flashing, trembling form stood thus
awhile, crisping and writhing in the blaze, till weary
with its long suffering, it threw itself with a sudden
and hurried sweep, on the funeral pile around. From
the noble pine to the bending sprout, the trees were
aflame, while the crackling underbrush seemed a
fiery net-work cast over the prostrate forms of the
monarchs of the forest. When the fire caught a dry
stub, it ran up the huge trunk like a serpent, and,
coiling around the withered branches, shot out its
fiery tongue as if in mad joy, over the raging element
below; while ever and anon, came a crash that
reverberated far away in the gorges—the crash of
falling trees, at the overthrow of which there wentMARCH OF THE FLAMES.
261
up a cloud of sparks and cinders and ashes. Sweeping
along on its terrible path, the tramp of that confla-
gration filled the air with an uproar like the bursting
cf billows on a rocky shore.
In one direction the forest made down into a valley
through which coursed a rapid stream, on the farther
side of which arose a mountain of rocks, almost naked
from base to summit. Trees and shrubs, however,
had grown in the interstices, but the drought had
killed them all, and the white and withered stems
could scarcely be distinguished from the bleached
rocks against which they grew.
Along this valley the conflagration swept; and,
skirting the bank of the stream with fearful velocity,
and licking up everything to the water’s brink ; went
for a while careering onward as if satisfied with the
field before it. But suddenly there seemed to be a
division of the forces—while one portion was content
with a direct invasion, the other made a halt as if re-
solved on a more desperate attack. The white, dry
mountain on the opposite side of the stream had at-
tracted its attention ; and clearing the channel with
one bold bound, it began to scale the opposing cliffs.
As the flames got amongst this vast collection of com-262
THE ADIRONDACK.
bustible matter, they raged with a strength and fury
to which all their former madness seemed placidity.
Have you ever in a still summer day heard the roar of
a coming hurricane ? if so, you have a faint conception
of, the terrific rushing sound of the fire as it wrapped
those mountains. It was near midnight, and that
rocky ridge became in the gloom a vast elevation of
fire—laced with lines of fire of brighter hue, and
shooting up jets of flame against the murky sky, as if
resolved to assail the heavens also. As I stood gazing
on this wild spectacle, and listening to its wilder up-
roar, suddenly a shrill and distant scream cleaved the
flames, and was borne with startling clearness through
the air. Some wild animal, probably a panther, had
been roused from his sleep by the heat, but awoke
only to find himself hemmed in on every side by a
burning wall. Bounding madly from side to side, ho
had at last sprang into the fire, and that last cry was
his death shriek.
This morning, a black and smouldering mass alone
remains of last night’s wild work. Trees half burnt
in two, others broken off* at the middle, and all
smoking amidst the devastation, present a most for-
lorn aspect in the bright morning air.NATURE NEVER THE SAME.
263
The backwoodsman never sees a city on fire, but he
beholds a far more imposing spectacle. Around the
haunts of men the devouring element is everywhere
met by resistance. Not only do solid walls obstruct
its progress, but human effort fights it at every step,
subduing its fury and lessening its force. But in the
woods it has free scope—no arm arrests it—no con-
finement smothers its rage. Free as the forest it
ranges, it puts forth all its energy, and is fanned into
greater fury, by the wind, itself creates.
Thus, my friend, do scenes of beauty and terror
succeed each other on the margin and in the heart of
the wilderness. There is no monotony in nature and
no lack of excitement.
Yours truly.XXIX.
LUMBERMEN---A STUDENT AND HUNTER OUTWITTED BY A
PROFESSOR--A PHILOSOPHICAL HUSBAND----A PROSPEC-
TIVE WIDOW LOOKING OUT FOR HER OWN INTEREST.
Schroon Lake, August.
Dear H------:
After the description I have given of the wilder-
ness and its extent, I seem to hear you inquiring,
“ What do people live on there ?” Well, not much of
anything; yet money is made in this region—that is,
out nearer the settlements. You have no conception
of the quantity of lumber that is taken every winter
from some part of this vast plateau to Albany. A
thousand people will be in these woods, where, in the
summer, there is not a living being. Speculators buy
the land for the sake of the timber, and then in the
winter carry in provisions, etc., for the lumbermen
who are to cut it. Log huts are put up in the shel-LUMBERMEN.
265
tered gorges for themselves and cattle, and some poles
driven into the logs for bedsteads; and thus equipped
and encamped, they lay siege to the pines. Teams
are made to work, and logs are drawn, where you
would say it was impossible for cattle to stand. A
great deal of land is bought of government solely for
the pine on it; and after that is cut down, it is al-
lowed to revert back to the State to pay its taxes.
In the more central regions, however, there is
no timber cut, as it is impossible to get it out to mar-
ket : but as civilization extends, the interior of the
Empire State will, no doubt, be reached by roads, or
water navigation.
Speaking of living, reminds me of an anecdote re-
lated to me by a professor of mathematics in one of
our colleges. Sent here for scientific purposes, he took
with him as a companion a younger brother who had
just graduated, and an old hunter, for a guide, cook,
and provider-general. Passing one day a clearing, in
which some fine peas were growing, they purchased a
small quantity to give relish to a dinner some time in
the forest. Not long after, being fatigued by a
hard forenoon’s work, they pitched their camp on
the borders of a lonely lake, and the professor said,
12266
THE ADIRONDACK.
“ Come, let us have those peas to-day.” So while he
was taking some observations down by the lake, the
old hunter and the young graduate prepared the din-
ner. After a while (the professor told me) he no-
ticed an unusual chuckling between the student and
the backwoodsman. Suspecting some trickery, he
strolled quietly up towards the fire, as if endeavoring
to get a new point of observation, but in fact to watch
narrowly their proceedings. Supposing that the profes-
sor was deep in equations and angles and mathemati-
cal lines, they relaxed their caution, and he observed
that they were making wooden spoons with their pen-
knives. All at once it flashed on him that he and
they had nothing but penknives to eat the peas with,
and that here was a conspiracy to rob him of his
share. Saying nothing, he walked back to the lake
shore, and picking up one of those large muscle shells,
which are found in all our fresh water lakes and
rivers, and will hold more than an ordinary spoon, he
fitted a split stick to it for a handle, and clapped
them both in his pocket. Then sauntering back in
order to prevent them making very extensive prepara-
tions, he kept around, until the dinner was cooked.
His presence restricted very much their operations, andTHE PROFESSOR’S DINNER.	267
they were able to finish but very shallow spoons after
all. The peas being at length done, they were poured
into the common dish, and lo! it was all soup. To
prevent the possibility of the professor’s getting even
a moiety, they had cooked them so that the peas were
like Yirgil’s “ rari nantes in gurgite vastoP
Imagine them now all seated on the ground around
their food, each stabbing with his penknife at the
peas, which dodge under the surface at every
blow, like frogs when pelted with stones by mis-
chievous boys. After this ridiculous process had been
carried on awhile, to the ill-suppressed merriment of
the student and hunter, they whipped out their
wooden spoons, and flourishing them over their heads
with a loud “ hurrah,” made a dive at the peas. The
professor said nothing, but coolly drawing forth his
huge muscle shell and stick, and fitting them together,
began to ladle up the soup. The hunter and graduate
stopped in utter amazement at this new development,
and with their spoons suspended half way to their
mouths, gazed with blank countenances at the quiet
professor, who, without uttering a word, or changing
a feature, diligently plied his shell. By his accurate
and mathematical mode of ladling, he was enabled to268
THE ADIRONDACK.
take up an enormous quantity at every dip, and in a
few moments every pea had vanished. The whole
operation had been carried on with the sobriety with
which he would have reduced an equation, while the
hunter and student looked inquiringly at each other,
yet without venturing a word of expostulation against
the strange proceeding. When the last pea disap-
peared, he looked up as much as to say, “ Is there any-
thing more to eat, gentlemen?” This was carrying
out the joke so capitally that the two conspirators
were compelled to laugh. The old hunter, as he
licked his empty spoon, confessed that for once he had
been outwitted.
The other day I took a heavy boot to a shoemaker,
or rather mender, to be repaired before I set forth on a
new expedition, of whom I was told a capital anec-
dote. An English emigrant had settled down in a
remote part of the forest, where he cleared a little
space about him and built a log hut. He had been
there but a year or two, when one day as he was
absent in the woods with his eldest daughter, his hut
took fire and burned down. His wife was sick, but
she managed to crawl out, taking the straw bed on
which she lay with her. At evening the husbandA PROSPECTIVE WIDOW.
269
returned to find his house in ruins. It was a winter
night, and the snow lay deep on the ground. Calling
aloud, he heard a faint voice reply, and going in
the direction from which it came, found his wife
stretched on the bed in the snow. Getting together
a few boards left from the conflagration, he made a
shelter over her. That night she was safely deliv-
ered of a child which survived and is now living.
But under the exposure and excitement together,
the husband took a violent cold, which, having
fastened on his lungs, and being resisted by no medi-
cal treatment whatever, terminated in the consump-
tion. He, however, reared another hut, and during
the summer a young settler came in and purchased a
tract near by him. His being the only family within
a long distance, this backswoodsman often passed the
evening in their society. It was not long before he
discovered that his neighbor could not long survive, for
the most ignorant in this region know all the symp-
toms of pulmonary disease which carries off three-
fourths of those who die. Accompanying this conclu-
sion came naturally the reflection, what would become
of the wife; and as she was good-looking and indus-
trious he thought he could not do better than marry270	THE ADIRONDACK.
her himself. Acting on this consideration, he men-
tioned the matter to her, remarking, that her husband
could not live long, and asking if she would marry
him after he was dead ?
She replied that she had no objections at all if “ her
husband was willing.” He said he had no doubt on
that point, and he would speak to him about it. He
did so, and the husband unhesitatingly gave his. con-
sent, adding that he was glad she would be so well
provided for after his death. So when winter ap-
proached, the young settler would come and “court”
the prospective widow, while the dying husband laid
and coughed on the bed in the corner.
Now there was not much sentiment in this, I grant,
but there was a vast deal of philosophy. It was
rather cool on her part, to be sure, but vastly sensible
on his. What could his wife and children do, all
alone there in the woods, without a protector ? The
toughest part of the proceeding, and that which no
doubt tested the backwoodsman’s philosophy the
severest, was the courtship. To lie gasping for
breath in one part of the room, and see the young
athletic and healthy backwoodsman and his wife
sitting together by the fire, and know that after a fewPHILOSOPHICAL HUSBAND.
271
more painful weeks, he would occupy that place per-
manently, and yet bear it all patiently, required a
good deal of stamina. Especially must the reflection
that they were both probably very anxious to have
him take his departure, have been rather a bitter pill
to swallow. I go into all these little particulars, you
know, to show the character of my hero to the best
advantage—the heroine speaks for herself. These
two interesting personages were my shoemaker and
his wife.
Yours truly,XXX.
ODDS AND ENDS-----TRIAL OF A THIEF IN THE BACK-
WOODS----NEW MODE OF REPORTING* AN ELECTION------
PARADOX LAKE---YON RAUMER AND HIS STATEMENTS.
Dear H------:
They have a curious way of disposing of civil and
political matters in the backwoods; for they are not
trammelled by the formalities of law, having imbibed
the very ridiculous notion that its end is secured by
the administration of justice. It will be some time, I
am afraid, before they become sufficiently educated to
understand that the science of law as reduced to prac-
tice now-a-days, is based on two great principles—
first, to give the scoundrel a better chance than the
honest man—and second, to make technicalities weigh
against truth and justice. The idea never entered
their heads, poor souls, that a slight informalityA THIEF IN THE BACKWOODS.
273
should always be sufficient to defeat the cause of a
good man, and advance that of a bad one.
Being so barbarous as to love simple justice, some
of their trials are conducted on a singular plan. On
one occasion, a little settlement of some half a dozen
families having discovered a thief among their num-
ber, without farther ado, assembled, tried, and con-
demned him. The nearest jail, however, was fifty-
miles distant, through the forest: yet they resolved
to despatch him thither, and two men were appointed
as his conductors.
The first day they made about twenty-five miles,
and then built up a fire and lay down for the night,
with their prisoner. In the morning, feeling rather
stiff and lame, they declared that the tramp of a hun-
dred miles was going to cost more than it would come
to, and so turned him loose in the woods to find his
way out as he best could.
I was much amused at a method of voting adopted
in another settlement composed of a few clearings—
the only ones in the township—in which were some ten
or a dozen voters. The candidate for . their suffrages
—I forget his name—lived in G-len’s Falls, near
Saratoga Springs. Having assembled together in
12*274
THE ADIRONDACK.
one of the log huts of the settlers, they talked over the
matter, and finally concluded to vote all one way, and
for this gentleman. It was a grave and solemn de-
liberation, and the sound political maxims there
uttered were worthy of the momentouso ccasion that
called them together. Having folded up their some
dozen votes, they put them in a little wooden box with
a lid to it, and despatched a man with them eighty
miles distant to Grlen’s Falls, fifty of which were
through a dense forest. After several days’ hard
traveling, he reached the place; but instead of going
to the proper authorities, he went straight to the can-
didate’s house, and opening the box, counted the votes
saying, “Here, them’s all for you—every one of ’em.”
The man laughed, and said that he was much obliged
for the votes, but they could do him no good, brought
in this informal way.
I caught a terrible drubbing in a school house, the
other day, from a Methodist exhorter. Seeing me
present, and hearing or surmising that I was from
New York, he thought it was a good opportunity to
give his opinion of the inhabitants of that wicked
city. Among other severe things which he uttered,
he said the people were so affected that they couldASSES AND CRITICS.
275
not say “ Tuesday” but must say “ Ghuseday” and
could not say ink, “like a man, but writiri’ fluid”
I fairly writhed under the scorching rebuke, feeling
as I often have done under some of the criticisms on
my books in the Magazines. I have no doubt he also
felt very much as the writer or penny-a-liner did,
who concocted those annihilating reviews.. It re-
minded me of an article I once saw in the “New
Englander,” written by an ignorant conceited clergy-
man, who, irritated by the itching after notoriety,
was willing to expose his folly, if he only could
be talked about. I forget the article, but I remember
one sentence, over which I had a hearty laugh—first,
at the long ears, which everywhere stuck out, and
second, at the ludicrous gravity with which I knew
he contemplated the feat he had performed, while his
readers were smiling at his stupidity. He was re-
viewing my “ Napoleon and his Marshals,” and
among other defects, (some of which he made up
deliberately,) he said I used the phrase “deliv-
ered battle,” which was entirely wrong. He con-
demned it, intimating that it was very corrupt En-
glish, unscholarlike and vicious”—when he ought
to have known it was a technical military phrase,276
THE ADIRONDACK.
for which I was no more responsible than for the
phrase u artillery practice” or “advancing en eche-
Ion” and which is perfectly proper, as any, but an
ignoramus knows. “Delivered battle!” “very bad
English”—ah, he said “writM fluid” he did not say
“ ink !” So another critic rebuked me for using the
word “ stand-point”—saying I should have written
“ standing point ! ! !” How very small a dog can
bark !
A few miles from the head of Schroon Lake is
Lake Paradox, which derives its name from the fact
that its waters flow two ways. Its outlet empties
into the east branch of the Hudson (i. e.) in ordinary
times. But when, as it frequently happens in
the spring, the river suddenly rises even with its
banks, its surface is above the level of the lake,
which, of course, swells much slower. The current
of the outlet is then reversed and flows back into the
lake. This double motion of the stream has given it
the name “ Paradox.”
BURLINGTON.
I came across the country to Lake Champlain, tak-
ing some fine trout on the way. About six milesVON RAUMER.
277
from Crown Point, I for the first time in my life
caught a full view of the Green Mountains of Ver-
mont. They were a long way off, but in the bright
light of the setting sun, their bold outline, showed
beautifully against the clear sky. I was struck with
the soft, blue coloring over them, like that we so often
see in Italy, and which is generally thought to be
peculiar to that country. Burlington is one of the
most beautiful places on the continent, though I was
provoked with a remark made by Prof. Von Raumer
one day in company with some of the professors of
the college. He said he had traveled from Boston
through the Atlantic States to New Orleans, and up
the Mississippi, through Canada, and back to Ver-
mont ; and that Niagara and Burlington furnished the
only scenery that could be called fine he had found in
all his route. Now so old a traveler as Von Raumer
ought to be ashamed of such a remark. If he will go
through the country on railroads and steamboats, at
the rate of fifteen and twenty miles an hour, he
should not complain of dearth of scenery. I have
seen both continents, (not excepting even the Profes-
sor’s favorite Germany,) and I affirm that in natural
scenery the United States stands unrivalled ; and if278	THE ADIRONDACK.
this remark is an index of the book he designs to pub-
lish about us, I would not give a straw for it. How
supremely foolish for a man to hurry through the
country by steam, taking all the lowland in his route,
and then pretend to write about our scenery. These
three months’ tourists are not the most reliable in the
world. To add to the Professor’s wisdom, he took the
night boat up the lake. Yery likely he went down
the Hudson by night also. Suppose he had gone up
by daylight, and across the country from Burlington
to Boston, and then through Massachusetts and Con-
necticut to Albany, and down the Hudson on a pleas-
ant day—every hour would have been crowded with
rich and varied scenery.
A man who should visit Switzerland and never go
into the Oberland or Tyrol, and then say there was no
scenery in the country that could be called sublime,
would be deemed insane—but a foreign traveler no
more thinks of visiting the wild and almost untrodden
portions of our land, than he does of committing sui-
cide. He expects to see everything worth seeing,
without leaving the lines of railroads, or going beyond
the precincts of good hotels. As well might a man
give an opinion of the scenery of the Highlands afterMISTAKES OF TRAVELERS.
279
passing only from Edinburgh to G-lasgow, as speak of
that of our country after traveling only on the great
thoroughfares that intersect it. Our gorges are yet
dark with fir trees, amid which the seeker after
natural beauty must sleep—our heaven . piercing
mountains encircled by vast forests or broader deserts
through which he must toil, if he would reach the
commanding summits.
Yours truly.XXXI.
AUTUMN a PAINTER---------MANNER OF WORKING.
lt Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the North wind’s breath.”
Dear H-------:
No country can compare with ours in the richness,
at least of its autumn scenery. The mountains of the
eastern world are not wooded like ours, and hence
cannot exhibit such a mass of foliage as they present.
But if you wish to behold autumn in its glory, you
must stand on some height that overlooks this vast
wilderness. What seemed to you in summer an inter-
minable sea of green, becomes a limitless expanse of
the richest colors—a vast collection of fragmentary
rainbows. And the different effects of light on dif-
ferent portions is most astonishing. Here a moun-
tain blazes in splendor, and there a valley looks like a
kaleidescope—-just so variegated and confused.THE DYING YEAR.
281
Autumn has been written and rhymed about from
the days of Thomson down, but always in the same
general tone of sadness. The text of every one has
been—
“ The melancholy days have come—
The saddest of the year.”
There must be something natural in this, or it would
not be so universal; and my own experience has
heretofore corresponded with this prevailing senti-
ment. Indeed the effect of the dying year is palpable
on those least affected by such changes and least con-
scious of them. You notice it in the very sports of
children. In spring time the most vigorous games
and boisterous merriment are seen on every village
green. But in autumn these are thrown aside for
forest strolls or walks by the river side. The scene
subdues and chastens the very spirit of childhood;
and there is something sad in seeing the glorious
summer, that has been so full of life and health and
beauty, lie down and die on the bosom of Nature.
Hope, which comes with spring, yields in autumn to
reflection, and man looks forward to decay rather
than to maturity and strength. But this feeling282
THE ADIRONDACK.
becomes deeper and sadder as one enters the forest
and hears the leaves rustling to his tread, and the
sound of the squirrel cracking the nuts amid the
dying tree-tops.
The trees have a melancholy aspect about them—
they appear to be conscious that their glory is depart-
ing ; and every leaf, as it loosens itself from the stem
where it has nodded and swayed the livelong summer
in joy, and flutters to the earth, seems to lie down as
a sad memorial of the departing year.
But for once in autumn I have had none of these
feelings. Roaming through this glorious region, and
along the foot of these mountains, I have seen summer
die as I never saw it die before. There has been a
beauty and brightness and glory about the changing
foliage this year, I never before witnessed. No
drenching rains faded the colors before their time, and
amid the clear weather and slight frosts, the summer
has died like the dolphin, changing from beauty to
beauty; and Autumn, the usually sober, serious,
sober Autumn, has seemed the most frolicsome fellow
of all the year. Stand in one of these deep valleys,
and look around you on the shores and hill-slopes and
mountain ridges! Autumn, with his brush andTilE FOREST IN AUTUMN.	283
colors, has been painting with the most reckless
prodigality and in endless variety of beauty and
brightness. There is no end to his whims and con-
ceits—the changed landscape seems the work of one
in his most joyous, frolicsome mood. There stands a
single maple tree ; Autumn approached it last night,
and apparently from a mere whim, threw his brush
over the top, making it a scarlet red one third of the
way down, while the other portion he left green as in
its spring-time. He simply put a red cap on it and
passed on. On another, he has run his brush along a
single limb, which flashes out from the deep bosom of
green in singular contrast. Yonder is an open grove
which he has hurried through, touching here and
there a tree with his reckless brush, till it is spotted
up with all the colors of the rainbow. He has
painted one all yellow, another all red, a third left
untouched, and a fourth sprinkled over with a shower
of colors, as if he had simply shaken his brush over
it in mirth.
He has brought out colors where you never dis-
covered anything but barrenness before. A yellow
wreath is running along a rock and festooning a tree,
where yesterday was only an humble unseen vine.284
THE ADIRONDACK.
He has painted it in a single night. He has trod the
gloomy swamp also, and lit up its solemn arcades
with brightness and beauty. The bushes that lifted
themselves modestly beside the dark fir trees, un-
noticed before, he has touched with his pencil, while
the evergreens, which he always avoids, stand in their
native greenness—and lo, a yellow lake is spread
under their sombre tops, as if a flood of molten
gold had suddenly been poured through them. He
has tipped the bush that dips the water with his
pencil, and lo, the liquid mirror blushes with the re-
flection at morning. Like a giant he has stood at the
base of the sky-seeking mountain, and swept his brush
with a bold stroke all over its forest-covered sides, till
it fairly dazzles the eye as the evening sunbeams flood
it. There, where the ridges stoop into a long steady
slope, he has wrought on a grander scale. The
different nature of the soil has given birth to several
varieties of timber, which lie like so many separate
strata for miles along the mountain side; and here he
has swept his brush in long stripes of yellow and red
and green and gold, till acres on acres of carpeting
spread away on the vision, while here and there sepa-
rate clumps of trees have been touched with varie-AUTUMN HUES.
285
gated hues to serve as figures in the magnificent
ground work. It is astonishing how well Autumn
understands the effect of light, especially as he works
so much in the dark. But there, on the bold spur of
that hill, right where the sunlight falls at evening
through a gorge in the western range, he has laid on
his richest and most gorgeous colors. And when the
western sky is melting and flowing into fluid gold, and
the glowing orb of day is swimming in its own splen-
dor as it sinks to rest, it pours its full brightness upon
that already bright projection, till it is converted into
a throne of light.
Thus does this frolicsome Autumn roam abroad,
with brush and colors in hand, obeying no law but
that of beauty. But while he paints on such a grand
scale, and with such long sweeps, and so rapidly, too,
finishing millions of acres in a single night, he omits
none of the details. Each leaf is as carefully shaded,
and as delicately touched as if miniature painting was
his only profession.XXXII.
DIRECTIONS TO THE TRAVELER.
There are several routes to the region described in
the foregoing letters. One goes by way of Lake
George, where you take a wagon to Chester and
Schroon Lake. From this point you can go either to
Long Lake, or the Adirondack Iron Works.
Another is by way of Westport on Lake Champlain,
where you take a wagon to Elizabethtown. At the
latter place, as at Chester on the other route, you will
obtain all the information necessary as to the best
way of getting into the woods.
A third route goes by way of Keysville. Launch-
ing your boats on the Saranac River, you pass up it,
carrying your boat around rapids-—sailing through
beautiful lakes, until at length you cross over to Ra-
quette River up which you can wind your tedious way
day after day until you reach Raquette Lake.288
THE ADIRONDACK.
take the cool air and escape the flies of the lower
grounds, but you make such a thrashing among the
branches, both green and dry, that they are off, long
before you come in sight of them. These forests are
so dense that you can see but a short distance ahead.
A good rifle, a knife, three or four shirts, and a blan-
ket or overcoat, making a package of only a few
pounds weight, must be all that you take with you—
for, in the first place, your rifle weighs from eight to
twelve pounds, and in the second place, you are often
compelled to carry that of your guide also, together
with a tin kettle, perhaps, or pan which you need
in cooking. Over the portages he can carry only the
boat, and it would be a great waste of time to com-
pel him to go back after the traps. Your guide must
have also a little sack of Indian meal with which to
make Johnny-cakes. A small bit of pork is likewise
desirable to fry your trout with. Thus equipped,
with a good pair of legs under you, a spirit not easily
discouraged, and a love for the wild, and free, you
can have a glorious tramp—enjoy magnificent scenery
—catch trout and kill deer to your heart’s content,
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63Irtg’hsm,DIFFERENT ROUTES.
287
On the western side you start from Rome and go to
Boonville, thence to Brown’s tract, where you take
boats for the Raquette, &c. There is another route
still, leading in on the southern side from New Am-
sterdam, the particulars of which I am unacquainted
with.
In passing through this region, one should never
wander from his guide, for it does not require more
than a mile’s aberration sometimes to lose one effectu-
ally. Neither should he, even with his guide, depart
far from the water courses, for it is almost impossible
to get through the woods. The quantities of fallen
timber scattered throughout the forest in every direc-
tion—huge trees lying across each other, presenting
an endless succession of barricades and impenetrable
thickets, arrest the traveler at every step. A direct
line cannot be pursued, and a man might work hard
all day and not make ten miles’ progress. And more
than this, away from the lakes and streams you are
not sure of game, especially on the higher grounds.
These mountains are silent as the grave—the owl
perchance being the only bird you will see in a day’s
tramp. It is true, deer, bear, wolves, panthers, and
moose roam over them, or retire to their summits to