m 
 
 I
 
 f
 
 LETTERS FROM THE WOODS. 
 
 [EDITORIAL CORRESPONDENCE.] 
 
 RANDOM RHYMES, 
 
 FROM 20 TO 70. 
 
 ANNUAL ADDRESSES, 
 
 WRITTEN FOR PRESS CARRIERS. 
 
 BY EDWARD B. OSBORNE. 
 
 POUQHKEEPSIE. 
 
 1893.
 
 INTRODUCTORY AND EXPLANATORY. 
 
 An explanation is sometimes equivalent to an apology, and 
 therefore not out of place in this opening page. The original 
 intention was the printing of a few copies of this little book 
 for private distribution only. But through an outside sugges- 
 tion (we must confess not requiring much pressure), a larger 
 edition was decided upon. 
 
 These sketches, the work of moments of leisure from con- 
 fining business occupations, and from larger relief during a 
 few days' sojourn in the outer world, where Nature in com- 
 parative solitude, sublime and beautiful in its grand adorn- 
 ments, invites the admiring and reverent gaze were written 
 only for a timely use, to be buried with it. That they reap- 
 pear in this form, can find no more plausible excuse than to 
 fall back upon an old plea, that Age grows garrulous that 
 the veteran, looking back to the sterner conflicts of his life as- 
 signments, finds delight in "fighting his battles over," and 
 peaceful mortals who have survived their usefulness are prone 
 to think, what is of mastering memory to themselves of the 
 past must possess interest to others, and plead at least, in the 
 words of higher authority, that "a book is a book although 
 there is nothing in it." 
 
 " Letters from the Woods " are portrayals of what the Adi- 
 rondacks were a third of a century ago, when that now fre- 
 quented and greatly traveled section of our State was almost 
 a terra incognita, to be reached only by long foot tramps. All 
 this has been wonderfully changed through the agency of 
 steam transit and the speed of daily coaches in all directions, 
 furnishing facility of access, and carrying with them all the 
 conveniences and comforts of the most popular fashionable re- 
 sorts. Locomotives and steamboats now utter their conquer- 
 
 2037119
 
 4 INTRODUCTORY AND EXPLANATORY. 
 
 ing defiance over natural difficulties, where then the lonely 
 hunter and angler wandered for weeks, meeting only at rare 
 intervals venturesome mortals, like themselves, leading for 
 the time being a hermit life. Looking back through the long 
 roll of years, we are impressed with the fact, that of the nu- 
 merous native guides who directed our course over lakes and 
 streams, and piloted through the almost pathless forests, all 
 but two or three sleep from their wonted pursuits beyond 
 time's awakening. 
 
 Of the early efforts at "random rhyme " perhaps the less 
 said the better. They mark in memory a somewhat extended 
 residence in a historical city of New England which of old 
 was a reputed locality of witches and their alleged craft. But 
 all the witches we encountered were attractive creations of 
 flesh and blood, abundantly equipped to foster poetic inspira- 
 tion in the brain of youthful romance. To become a subject 
 of their witchery, had there been no more convenient oppor- 
 tunity of companionship, one would have been content to have 
 accompanied them on a moonlight "broom-stick" excursion 
 over the city, and have shared with them a chance of mercy 
 at the hands of puritanical over-righteousness, as the penalty 
 of such an aerial feat. 
 
 At the first blush, the " Annual Addresses," written for the 
 carriers of a daily journal, may seem like a short string of 
 old almanacs their use, if any, having expired by limita- 
 tion. (Incidentally of almanacs and their uses, we will add 
 what our old citizens will probably remember, that it was a 
 custom to give a running prediction of the current state of 
 the weather in italics on the margin of a page, and in the 
 suitable season announcement was made to look out for " show- 
 ers, lightning, thunder," etc. A rural citizen came into the 
 town of Barnstable, Mass., one day to attend the "Court of 
 Common Pleas," which was the almanac announcement for 
 the day. Directly opposite it in the weather margin was 
 the word " thunder." The seeker for knowledge, as to what 
 sort of weather the day was going to bring, took the whole 
 line in and dropped the authority with the exclamation: " Good
 
 INTRODUCTORY AND EXPLANATORY. 5 
 
 Heavens! we are going to have a shower of Barnstable thun- 
 der! ") But this is a digression to ease up a little the work of 
 explanation under this heading. We put in extenuation 
 that these addresses have something to plead for their pres- 
 ence here, if for nothing else, that they serve as chronological 
 indicators of memorable conflicts, not only in th history of 
 our own great national struggle to uphold the legacy of our 
 revolutionary sires, but also as data of warring disturbances 
 among other republics on our own continent, as well as of 
 like occurrences on the other side of the Atlantic. It may 
 be remarked in closing, that the same unsettled conditions 
 and uncertainty of stable regal government still largely prevail, 
 as an echo of the long past, and not yet distinctively promising 
 of the millennial era. 
 
 POUGHKEEPSIE, 1893.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 WITH THE WOODS AND WATERS. 
 
 CHAIN LAKES, ESSEX Co., N. Y., ) 
 August 24, 1856. J 
 
 From the busy occupations of camp life, I will find time for 
 a hasty sketch of the experience of a few days ' roughing it " 
 in a portion of the old forests in the northern part of our State. 
 I locate my epistle at Chain Lakes, upon which, and the 
 neighborhood, a moon's half circle was worn pleasantly down 
 to an early evening's crescent. 
 
 I left Poughkeepsie in company with an old friend, who has 
 been an annual devotee on the same pilgrimage for a half a, dozen 
 years, and was therefore well qualified to put me through the 
 course of seeing the wilderness elephant. 
 
 We reached the end of railroad traveling at Fort Edward. 
 The staging from thence to Glens Falls freshened the recol- 
 lections of long ago. The coach was full seated, within and 
 without, but faithful to coach custom of yore, there was 
 always room for one more. 
 
 At Glens Falls we changed vehicle for the drive to Chester, 
 and from thence after supper to Schroon Lake, a pretty vil- 
 lage bordering a fine sheet of water about nine miles in length. 
 Here we formed the acquaintance of one of a family of go- 
 ahead young men, by the name of ROOT, who took us late in 
 the evening, behind a lively team, over a lonely but romantic 
 road, to Schroon River, about nine miles distant, where the 
 senior of the family presided as host. He had just completed 
 a large and comfortable mansion for public uses, where we 
 found very agreeable entertainment for the night. Early on
 
 8 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 the morrow we started for a point some thirty miles farther 
 into the wilderness. Our route for most of the way lay 
 through the primeval forests, over a corduroy road, the over- 
 hanging branches darkening 1 the view, and confining it to a 
 narrow track. Here and there, at long intervals, a log cabin 
 in the midst of a scanty clearing, upon which a plot of potatoes 
 was freshly blooming and a patch of oats still green, and around 
 whose doorway healthy and rugged looking children were 
 exercising their bare legs and feet, changed the monotony of 
 the scene. 
 
 Occasionally, through an opening we caught a view of some 
 of the noted peaks of the Adirondack ranges. Of these sum- 
 mits, Mount Marcy reaches the highest altitude, rising to the 
 height of five thousand three hundred and thirty-seven feet 
 above the level of the sea. We passed both branches of the 
 Hudson river, our route taking us within about fifteen miles 
 of its source. 
 
 As the shades of evening were coming on, we reached the 
 end of travel by wheel, and took up quarters with Caleb 
 Chase, who received us with the hospitality common to the 
 pioneer's home. The morning brought a change in the method 
 of travel. For a good six miles we were to shoulder our 
 packs, and other wood appliances, and trudge over a rock- 
 paved track, which led us to a shanty in the neighborhood of 
 Qoodenow creek, a celebrated trout stream, where we 
 " shantied " for the first time on the trip. By the courtesy of 
 Messrs. CRONKRITE and COLVILLE, of Glens Falls, who had 
 been engaged in lumbering in this section the previous winter, 
 we had been put in possession of their comfortable log house. 
 It had been the home of a large number of log cutters during 
 the season of that work, and it contained all the culinary con- 
 veniences needed, under the circumstances, with the additions 
 we made to the store. How we struck out new ideas and 
 forces in the science of cookery, at least to one of the party 
 engaged in the mystery, need not to be stated. It is, perhaps, 
 profitable that we should some time be thrown upon our own 
 resources in matters which are not supposed to belong legiti-
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 9 
 
 mately to the male gender. It is a sort of helper to a fuller 
 understanding of the moral, at least in a domestic sense, that 
 
 " The good we never miss we rarely prize." 
 
 Beside taking a bountiful supply of trout, for our two meals 
 in the shanty, our main experience, on a tour of inspection 
 through the adjoining forest, was to surprise a trap set for 
 bear, and to slightly appreciate the scare which bruin must 
 have realized, had he come to his invitation before us. But 
 this is an incident of unwritten history, and the obligation of 
 silence has been faithfully kept for nearly two score years. 
 We are confident the bear never mentioned our poaching on 
 his preserves. 
 
 We were obliged to leave our comfortable shanty, sacred to 
 pleasant memories, as it was about three miles to the cluster 
 of lakes where our operations were to be mainly conducted. 
 Early in the morning we started over a blind trail, and, after 
 considerable devious and doubtful exploration, we struck the 
 fifth of the chain of water basins which compose this charm- 
 ing group of the North Woods, in many respects without a 
 peer. After a protracted search we uncovered, from its hiding 
 place a serviceable boat, which had been designated for our 
 use by our friends at Glens Falls. 
 
 Passing down the lakes the far-reaching vision of uprising 
 mountain ranges was a revelation which will be indelibly 
 impressed on memory. On reaching the second lake, at the 
 foot of which we expected to find our venerable shanty, it was 
 in so dilapidated and dirty condition that we were thrown 
 upon our own resources to settle the question of a night's 
 lodging. In this emergency, while dipping our leather cup 
 in the spring, a half-breed hunter, from the St. Regis region, 
 came suddenly upon us. He carried a rifle and a capacious 
 blanket-pack. Entering into conversation with him, we 
 learned that he had come to the lakes for the purpose of 
 capturing a deer. As he was a foot traveler, we proposed he 
 should return with us to the third (and largest) lake, and, 
 after setting a buoy for lake trout, prepare to take an evening
 
 10 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 float with one of us for a deer. This arrangement was satis- 
 factory, and we found Mitchell, as our new companion was 
 called, quite handy in wood life and hunter-craft. After con- 
 sultation, it was deemed best to camp out for the night, rather 
 than try the sleeping accommodation of the old shanty we 
 had left. Mitchell was accordingly deputed to locate the 
 ground, which he did upon a bank in a nook of the lake, near 
 a fine spring of water. With tips of hemlock he soon fash- 
 ioned our couch, and a rousing fire added liveliness as well as 
 comfort to the scene. Unrolling his pack he produced the 
 necessary implements and soon our supper was in a fair way 
 of meeting ardent expectations. Pronged sticks impaled the 
 fish we had caught on our upward passage, and they were 
 broiled to perfection. During our repast Mitchell's tongue 
 was unloosed and he treated us to a narrative of his experience 
 in moose hunting in the upper Canada forests. He and a 
 companion had captured about seventy on the Aroostook the 
 previous winter, and others he said were more successful. 
 The moose are destroyed mainly for their skins, which are 
 worked into moccasins and other articles, and are valued at a 
 high price, paying the hunter well for his exposure day and 
 night to the rigors of a northern winter. 
 
 Late in the evening the "jack " was lit, and it was decided 
 that I should accompany Mitchell on my first experience at 
 "floating for deer." Down the lake we glided, hearing 
 occasionally in the woods on the banks sounds which Mitchell 
 pronounced as the footsteps of the game we sought, but no 
 deer were to be seen. While thus seated in blank expectancy, 
 a couple of " screech owls," in the upper part of the lake, 
 commenced a volume of unearthly sounds, which echoed in 
 prolonged cadence from the mountain side. Mitchell broke 
 into a quiet chuckle, the only attempt we heard him make 
 toward a laugh, and remarked: " I guess they are serenading 
 Slee." It became evident that the evening's cruise would not 
 contribute to our larder. We returned fruitless to our night's 
 quarters, and reposed upon our verdant bed, a good fire at
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 11 
 
 our feet, but nothing but a few thin tree-topbranclies between 
 our overcoats and the sky. 
 
 We rose in the morning feeling fully equal to any toils of 
 the day. Mitchell did not feel satisfied to abandon his search 
 for venison, and he started off alone to hunt the lakes. Late 
 in the afternoon he returned empty-handed, having seen but 
 one far-oft deer, and gave up the hunt. We had been success- 
 ful during the day among the lake trout, and prevailed upon 
 him to take a portion of the fish we had on hand. He in- 
 formed us that during the day he had discovered a shanty 
 in good condition, near the foot of the second lake, near 
 the old one. We accordingly accompanied him down the 
 lake, and took a friendly parting. The shanty proved to 
 be a protection against wind and rain. It had been built and 
 occupied, we subsequently learned, the previous summer, by 
 Rev. Dr. Todd, from a New England city, who had sought 
 the wilderness for recreation and physical relief. 
 
 Fishing for lake trout in these waters is a lively occupation. 
 Our average run was about two pounds the largest, three 
 and a quarter, though, my companion informs me, they have 
 been captured in this lake, weighing nine pounds. 
 
 My companion, nothing discouraged by the failure of the pre- 
 ceding evening, took the paddle at an earlier hour, and we put 
 out again for a hunt. The result proved that he was more 
 expert and sagacious than the descendant of the red man. 
 Our prize of the evening was a farrow doe of large proportions 
 and in fine condition. We also run in shore upon a buck and 
 doe feeding together, but there was no temptation to increase 
 our stock of venison. 
 
 The wanton destruction of these beautiful animals is telling 
 materially upon the frequency of their resort to the feeding 
 grounds of the lakes. The killing of them merely to gratify 
 the pride of marksmanship cannot be too strongly censured. 
 
 Rain fell nearly all of the day following, and of all days, a 
 constant rainy one, in the forest, is among the dullest. Our 
 primitive cabin, with its unrestricted range for smoke, was 
 convenient, at least, for curing venison. But the quantity of
 
 12 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 the latter threatened to exceed considerably the demand even 
 of two vigorous appetites. We therefore concluded to pack 
 a portion of it and carry it to a shanty on Cedar river, about 
 three miles distant, whose inmates my companion had pre- 
 viously visited. Slinging our budget on a pole resting on our 
 shoulders, we took a blind trail single file through the forest, 
 and were welcomed at the clearing of our lonely neighbors 
 with a cordiality that made us immediately at home. It was 
 occupied by Conklin Noxon, whose ancestors, he informed 
 me, were from Dutchess county. We found him in harvest- 
 work. He had gathered about twenty tons of hay, and was 
 preparing to get in his oats, which looked large and heavy 
 grained. He expected to gather five hundred bushels of 
 potatoes this season, and the Adirondack quantity of this 
 crop cannot be surpassed. The demand for these products is 
 from the lumbermen and their teams, the former of whom 
 make the old forests vocal through the winter by the meas- 
 ured stroke of their axes. This climate grows hardy and 
 vigorous men, who laugh at the icy rigors of the cold months, 
 make pork and potatoes their regular fare, and perform an 
 amount of labor which would wilt shop-nursed laborers. 
 
 Cedar river is a rapid stream of considerable width and 
 depth, emptying into the Hudson, after five or six miles fur- 
 ther run. At time of spring freshets, when fed by melting 
 snows, it rises ten to fifteen feet, and affords the outlet for 
 lumbermen's winter-piled logs. , 
 
 But I must close my narrative, already perhaps too much ex- 
 tended to interest the reader. To the jaded and workworn, 
 these still mountain retreats, with their ever pure and spark- 
 ling waters and various excitements to mental and bodily ac- 
 tivity in new channels, furnish a genial medicine. Whatever 
 the exposure, there are no unfavorable results. Body and 
 mind catch the elasticity and glow of the surroundings. Nor 
 this only. Nature's grandest manifestations have here an 
 elixir deeper and more pervading. From her lofty rock-ribbed 
 
 heights, 
 
 "The masonry of God,"
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 13 
 
 her far-reaching forests clothed in varying beauty, and her ever 
 harmonizing voices with the soul's out-reachings, come a teach- 
 ing not easily forgotten beneath the shortened scope of ordi- 
 nary familiar avocations. 
 
 ON INDIAN AND LEWIS LAKES. 
 
 No. I. 
 
 NORTH RIVER, August, 1865. 
 
 Travel by rail furnishes but little of incident. And yet the 
 fact that within the space of four hours you are whirled 
 through from Poughkeepsie to Fort Edward, is an event in 
 itself of such proportions, that nothing but custom takes off 
 the wonder. The only out-of-the-way experience was an over- 
 heated axle of one of the cars, detaining the train half an 
 hour. Getting out to learn the cause of the detention, we 
 found the crowd gathered around the affected place, and men 
 pouring water upon the hissing iron, from which ascended a 
 volume of smoke, to the no little alarm of some of the pas- 
 sengers inside. 
 
 Saratoga, of course, received a generous share of the living 
 freight who started with us, and the bustling crowd who 
 stopped within its charmed precincts, hurried off to enter the 
 whirlpool of fashion, perhaps to realize their expectations. 
 
 Glens Falls, over which a sirocco of fire swept but a few 
 months since, has risen in beauty from the ashes. With the 
 active, energetic population of our country, fire destroys often 
 only to lead the way for a new creation, and enhanced prop- 
 erty value. 
 
 At this place steam has not yot found its occupation as the 
 draft horse of thronging travel. The old stage here rattles 
 off in all its ancient glory, and the art of piling in and pack- 
 ing on the traveling community is understood with a perfec- 
 tion that would have excited the envy of the whips of former 
 days, who always had room for one more inside. 
 2
 
 14 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 At Glens Falls our stage load included no less a notoriety 
 than the celebrated E. C. Judson, better known as Ned Bunt- 
 line, who had for his companion on a lake and mountain ex- 
 cursion Mr. Whitney, of the New York Sunday Mercury. Ned 
 has returned in all his glory from a four years' arduous service 
 in the war, having done active duty in the First New York 
 Mounted Rifles. His employment was mainly as a leader in the 
 scouting service, an occupation for which his forest experience 
 and adventurous temperament admirably fitted him. Moving 
 incidents of fight and flight will make Ned more than ever a 
 companionable hero with his old friends and associates in 
 these wilds. He is bound for his old home at Blue Mountain 
 Lake, or Eagle's Nest, as he has christened it, from which he 
 has been absent since the appeal to arms first awakened his 
 martial fire. He gave us a pressing welcome to go with him 
 to his mountain home, assuring us a hearty welcome, an offer 
 which previous engagements compelled us to decline. 
 
 To-morrow we pack horses for a trudge into the farther in- 
 terior, where the deer contest a roaming habitation with the 
 wolf and a still worse persecutor, man and where the trout 
 gather and grow in the spring-fed and mountain embosomed 
 retreats. Beyond this point Uncle Sam's mail bags can only 
 be reached by a chance outward-bound" pedestrian. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 Prominent among the grand collections of spring-fed water, 
 for which Hamilton county is noted, are Lake Piseco, Lake 
 Pleasant, Lewis lake and Indian lake. At present date the 
 alderman and myself are located on the Lewis river, or as the 
 common pronunciation here is Lewy river, about a mile and a 
 half above the inlet of Indian lake. Our host and hostess 
 are a Canadian Frenchman and his American wife, named 
 Gerard, a courteous couple, who are cultivating a productive 
 clearing in the woods, of more than ordinary size and fertility. 
 They are_fully mindful of the apostolic injunction not to be 
 " forgetful to entertain strange rs,"J>ut whether in the exercise
 
 FOIIEST AND LAKE. 15 
 
 of such hospitality they ever fall upon "angels unawares," is 
 perhaps an idle speculation. 
 
 One thing strikes an observer in these wilderness clearings, 
 and that is, the deprivation of social privileges by the women. 
 The first thought is, that habitation and inclination are in 
 harmony with the woman denizens of forest life, but I find 
 ~that it is rarely so. While making the.best of circumstances, 
 and doing much to soften the privations of these secluded 
 homes, their longings for the advantages of community life are 
 strong and enduring, and they talk feelingly of the loss to 
 their children and themselves in their confined existence, and 
 find comfort in the hope of a prospective change. It is possi- 
 ble that a young woman, brought up from the cradle to this 
 narrow sphere, and agreeably mated, may find her affinity 
 without discontent here, but even this is a rare exception. 
 
 The township of Indian Lake was established in 1859, and 
 before the war contained a population of about sixty souls. 
 The charms of the battle-field, and the high bounties, drew a 
 number of substitutes from this place, some of whom have re- 
 turned, others sleep with their comrades where no morning re- 
 veille can awake them. The lake whose name it bears is 
 about three miles long and a mile in width. It has been a 
 beautiful sheet of water, with picturesque banks, sloping 
 down, in places, from overhanging mountain peaks of majestic 
 altitude. But the hand of utility has robbed it of much of 
 natural beauty. A capacious dam has been built at its outlet, 
 within a few years, for the purpose of flooding both the lake 
 and the Lewis river, which pours a heavy volume of water at 
 all times into it. The dam is closed in the period of the spring 
 freshets, raising the water from twelve to thirteen feet above 
 its ordinary capacity. This supply serves as a reserved feeder 
 for Indian river, the outlet of the lake, and which bears upon 
 its freshet-swelled bosom, the logs cut by lumbermen in this 
 region. These logs pass into the Hudson or North river, into 
 which Indian river empties, and are borne down by the swollen 
 current, in countless thousands, to Glens Falls, where a large
 
 16 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 portion of them furnish employment for the extensive saw- 
 mills at that place. 
 
 As we have remarked, the operation of this dam is fatal to 
 the border beauty of Indian lake. The settling back of the 
 water has, to a great extent, destroyed the trees and solid ver- 
 dure, which once clothed its banks, and left sterile looking 
 marshes, covered with decayed trees, and emitting a dank and 
 unwholesome odor. 
 
 Indian lake has been famous as a common resort for deer, 
 and the surrounding forests still hold them in attraction as 
 numerously as any place in the northern woods. But the 
 huntsmen and their dogs give no peace to these graceful and 
 agile forest rangers, and year by year they are being thinned 
 in numbers. The hound is taken into the mountain covert, 
 and, when the trail is struck, the leash by which he is held is 
 loosed, the hunter returns, and the hound goes bounding after 
 his prey. And here commences a race on the part of the deer 
 for dear life. The hound follows with untiring zeal, ever and 
 anon, as the trail of the deer he has in pursuit freshens upon 
 his scent, sounding his baying bugle, a welcome warning to 
 the listening and panting deer, who, as his pursuer thus indi- 
 cates his point of approach again, " bounding forward free and 
 far," seeks the dense covert in some distant retreat. But 
 though the deer may for the time outstrip his foe by superior 
 fleetness, the latter holds to the chase with greater endurance, 
 and as a last resort, in order to throw his enemy off the scent 
 of his track, the deer takes to the lake or river, where the 
 huntsmen, who know his usual path of flight, are lying in 
 ambush for him. As soon as the deer has made a sufficient 
 progress in the water to prevent his return, they take to their 
 boats, and, by superior progress with the oar, secure the cov- 
 eted game. The number taken in this way in these northern 
 lakes is large, and unless the hound is soon withdrawn from 
 this destructive chase, we shall be compelled to bid adieu to 
 these noble animals. 
 
 Indian Lake township has its courts for trying breaches of 
 the peace, as well as more settled places, albeit a competent
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 17 
 
 official has to be sought with much travel. A case of this kind 
 occurred yesterday. A hunter passing through one of the out- 
 of-the-way paths came upon a lonely settler who was beating 
 his wife with a club. The blood was flowing freely from her 
 wounds. The cowardly brute fled at his approach, and as he 
 assisted the poor woman to rise, she besought him to enter a 
 complaint against her husband. 
 
 He accordingly did so, after much travel and trouble, but 
 when the case came on before the Justice, the woman would 
 not swear against her husband. She said they had some con- 
 tention, and he " chucked " her a little, but she guessed she 
 had used some hard words to him ; on the whole it did not 
 amount to much, and they would get along well enough if 
 other people would let them alone. The Justice was com- 
 pelled to dismiss the case for want of evidence, and the recon- 
 ciled pair started off very lovingly for their shelter in the 
 woods, probably to repeat the same wrangling and " chuck- 
 ing " on the first convenient opportunity. It is but a repeti- 
 tion of an old story of woman's trust and forgiveness, and her 
 patient endurance of suffering rather than to part from a 
 brutal husband. The hunter was satisfied that it was a thank- 
 less job to interfere in a matrimonial quarrel, and informed 
 the court that man and wife might fight it out the next time 
 without his meddling with the affair. 
 
 Indian lake and its tributaries abound with trout, and it is a 
 pleasant occupation to sit in a boat on the lake and watch 
 them springing at full length above the surface for a passing 
 insect or some floating tempting morsel. The points of in- 
 tersection of the cold water brooks attract the "speckled 
 beauties," and the angler finds capital sport in throwing the 
 fly and playing them skillfully to land. The Alderman is in 
 his glory, and exhibits the same inventive faculty, patient 
 perseverance and ready resources, which have marked and 
 made his success in the business affairs of life. As he lands 
 one of the finny treasures, as broad as your hand, there is a 
 quiet glow of satisfaction, demonstrative that the exploit was 
 done in the first style of old Walton's art. The pleasurable
 
 18 FOKEST AND LAKE. 
 
 excitement, the vigorous exercise with the oar, the bracing 
 atmosphere, and the plain but genial food, are doing their 
 beneficial work on weakened muscle and sluggish digestive 
 powers, engendered by sedentary pursuits. 
 
 Shut in by lofty mountain ranges and far removed from 
 sources of mental excitement, memory feeds the mind with 
 pleasant and painful experiences. Airy voices come to my 
 ear as returns the hour when 
 
 'Neath the folds of the snowy drapery 
 
 Lieth the form so still and cold: 
 O'er the pulseless heart the white hands rest 
 
 O'er the pallid brow were tresses of gold ; 
 But the waxen lids droop heavily now 
 
 O'er the hazel shade of the beautiful eye. 
 And the lips once ruby are ashen and pale, 
 
 No more will they smile, no more will they sigh, 
 But bravely she crossed the dark river, 
 
 Nor shrank from its cold rolling wave. 
 For though lost to our sight here forever, 
 
 Faith lighted the gloom of the grave. 
 
 These thoughts may be intrusive to the reader, however 
 absorbing to this hour and place. To look within our own 
 hearts, and commune with spirit teachings, there is no place 
 more congenial than the solitudes of Nature. 
 
 To-morrow we start for Lewis lake, which to reach will re- 
 quire some ten miles rowing, up the river of the same name. 
 
 No. III. 
 
 My last left us in preparation for an adventure up Lewis 
 river. The delicacies we laid in for the excursion were, 
 about half a bushel of potatoes, a magnificent chunk of salt 
 pork, a few loaves of bread with an allowance of butter, salt 
 and tea, and last but not least in account, a roll of blankets. 
 Into two small boats we packed ourselves and traps, includ- 
 ing a guide for each boat, who acted as oarsmen, and an 
 intelligent-looking dog belonging to them, who was ac- 
 quainted, by long practice, with the track of deer. Our
 
 FOKEST AND LAKE. 19 
 
 progress was nearer a " zig-zag " than I ever remember of 
 traveling before. After turning a point, in several instances 
 we found we were "advancing backward," and though pulled 
 by lusty oars we marked our passage on the mountain side by 
 slow gradations. Ever and anon the sweeping wings and 
 long legs of a crane would rise to view, startled from his 
 feeding grounds by intrusive and unusual visitors. Numer- 
 ous hawks wheeled in graceful gyrations overhead, as if watch - 
 ing and wondering at the scene. Broods of black ducks rose 
 occasionally as if averse to too close acquaintance. Arriving 
 at the forks where Jessup river unites with the Lewis, we 
 threw our lines and caught a few trout of quite moderate 
 dimensions, but better than none, where the prospective of a 
 dinner is bounded only by pork and potatoes. Let us not be 
 deemed to speak disparagingly, however, of this great staple, 
 the culinary department in forest life. We bear grateful 
 testimony to a slice of raw pork, peppered and sandwiched 
 between slices from a loaf, eaten at a temporary halt on a 
 well packed tramp. Stall-fed epicures may find it difficult to 
 appreciate such a repast, but they will be equally at a loss to 
 realize the active and buoyant existence which an appetite 
 reconciled to such fare promotes. 
 
 Jessup river at this junction has long been famous as a 
 trouting ground. But as elsewhere in this region, the exten- 
 sive drought had greatly reduced its waters, and there was 
 little enticement for delay. As we left the Forks (so called, 
 we suppose, from the union at this point of another small 
 stream), we pushed our way up the Lewis river, now a 
 greatly reduced channel. Our oarsmen were repeatedly 
 obliged to wade and drag the boats over bars and sunken 
 branches, making slow progress. About a quarter of a mile 
 below Lewis lake the Falls commence, against which the oar 
 is useless. The cargo must here be landed, and the boats are 
 borne on stalwart shoulders by a forest path and placed in the 
 lower end of the lake. 
 
 Lewis lake lies in the north-eastern part of Hamilton county, 
 and is a water basin of great beauty. Lifted many feet above
 
 20 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 the overflow of Indian lake, vegetable life- grows rank and 
 luxuriant, and forms a fitting casket for so pure a gem. Our 
 boats cleaved the narrow outlet, about a quarter of a mile, a 
 paradise of verdure on either side, when the lake burst upon 
 the vision. Something of the stirring emotions which attend 
 the discovery of explorers where the foot of man is supposed 
 never to have fallen, was felt as our boats rode its waters for 
 a mile and a half to the inlet shore. To us it was new 
 ground, as though struck at once from the mint of creation, 
 without vestige of the presence of fellow-men. But we were 
 soon undeceived as to a supposed sole occupancy. Our boats 
 had scarcely struck the beach, when a young man emerged 
 from the path leading to the principal shanty at the lake. 
 He was soon followed by his companion, both having the un- 
 mistakable contour of student life, with the pulpit in view. 
 We learned they had come in that morning, to try the fishing, 
 and they soon left in a boat to cast their lines. We explored the 
 woods, and were fortunate in finding a bark shanty, covered 
 on three sides, with a fire-place constructed of stones in front. 
 Here we piled the logs for our night fire, gathered hemlock 
 bough tips for our bed, and not yet reconciled to pork and 
 potatoes as full fare, entered our boats again and tempted the 
 trout at the inlet. They were in sluggish mood, refusing to 
 rise at the fly, but a few were deluded by the sunken bait, 
 and made captives. Here all the rules of fishermen art were 
 at fault. Our light and delicate trappings, falling noiselessly 
 upon the water, came off second best. A clumsy tackling of 
 one of our guides, falling with a loud splash into the stream, 
 took the only fine trout of the evening. We have read some- 
 where of an illustration by an experienced divine, instructing 
 a younger brother in the ministry how to fish for souls. 
 "Now," says he, "you must imitate the example of the skill- 
 ful angler in your labors. He does not cast his line with a 
 noisy rough throw, as if saying to his expected prey, ' bite or 
 
 be d d.'but gently extends the enticing morsel, and wins 
 
 them to his embrace." Our case, at least, was an exception 
 to this rule. The biggest fish was caught on the other style,
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 21 
 
 after a ke-chunk of a heavily loaded line. On returning, we 
 overtook our student acquaintances, and on comparing notes 
 we found they had not taken a scale, and a repetition of the 
 same luck in the morning induced them to abandon the lake 
 in disgust. 
 
 Night in the wilderness, with the bright broad canopy above, 
 seen through the interlacing branches of majestic trees, has a 
 charm all its own. As the heavily-logged fire snaps and 
 crackles, and the tree tops are rustled by the breeze into 
 majestic symphony, sleep holds itself aloof, and the mind 
 wanders, quickened to unwonted activity by the surroundings 
 Occasionally the melancholy scream of the Great Northern 
 Diver, from the bosom of the adjacent lake, or the " tuvvhit 
 towho-o-o," of the night owl, familiar to these parts, recall 
 the dreamer to the locality. Slumber, deep and refreshing, 
 comes at length, and from the couch of hemlock twigs the 
 sleeper rises early, more elastic than from a feathery nest, 
 ready for the engagements of the day. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT IN THE NORTH WOODS. 
 
 August, 1867. 
 
 The city toiler who breaks away from the sedentary routine 
 of office duty to become a student of Nature in her wildest 
 aspects, and a participator in the excitements of camp life, 
 strikes a vein of enjoyment and a source of healthful in- 
 fluences. Even the weary and often exhausting efforts, under 
 the burden of a weighty knapsack, in filing through the rough 
 paths of the wilderness, find their abundant compensation in 
 the repose around the camp-fire after the day's toil. In the 
 flashes leaping and curling upward from the burning logs, 
 gilding the leafy canopy of towering trees, through whose 
 network the heavens display their glory, while the far-spread- 
 ing lake is speaking through myriad wavelets breaking upon 
 the sandy beach, there is an inspiring accompaniment to the
 
 22 FOKEST AND LAKE. 
 
 stories of former experience with the rod and guii, making the 
 flying hours a prelude to the night's rest upon a bed of hem- 
 lock tips. 
 
 The route to Fort Edward by the flying locomotive is but 
 the experience of ordinary steam traveling where incident 
 is not expected, and the only concern is to span inter- 
 vening points in the quickest time. Here the iron horse 
 leaves us for more primitive means of travel, and the stage- 
 coach exhibits the mechanical success of squeezing the largest 
 amount of humanity into the smallest possible compass from 
 which the occupants can be taken out alive. Passing over a 
 sandy flat, the Half- Way House to Lake George uniformly 
 waters the horses and offers additional beverages to those who 
 dislike to give up the custom of traveling by steam. 
 
 The historic grounds of Warren county have their perma- 
 nent landmarks in the monument erected to Gen. Williams, 
 and in Bloody Pond adjacent, and carry the observer back to 
 the days of the French and Indian Wars, when human slaugh- 
 ter wore its fiercest aspects, and to conquer or die was less a 
 choice than a necessity. The panorama of dale and mountain, 
 with its far-stretch of cultivated fields and frequent village 
 indentations, catches the admiring eye from an elevation soon 
 after leaving Glens Falls, forming one of the finest views on 
 the route to North Woods. After a ten-mile ride, as the road 
 leads down the summit, the far-stretch of Lake George is a 
 picture of rare beauty. Soon we reach the county seat of 
 Warren, an attractive summer resort to those who can ex- 
 change brick-walled marts of trade during the heated term 
 for the avenues of lake and forest, the earnest of the wilder- 
 ness stretching far beyond. The village of Warrensburg is a 
 jewel in this rough setting, and its neatness and quiet beauty 
 arrest the traveler's eye, suggesting the fancy that it may 
 have been dropped ready-made into a picturesque locality. 
 Here are several elegant buildings which would be noted for 
 their finish and surroundings in more pretentious settlements. 
 An extensive tannery is a profitable business resource of the 
 place. While tarrying here for dinner, one of our party had
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 23 
 
 occasion to examine his traveling bag, but the discovery made 
 and the comments elicited cannot touch the reader as it did 
 the interested party grouped around the remains of what had 
 been once fair to the eye. It was more regretful to the loser, 
 from the fact that it had been presented to him by a thought- 
 ful parishioner to meet the need of a possible contingency in 
 the exposures and dangers of wilderness life. In the reminis- 
 cences of after years, we have no doubt the little band there 
 assembled will be with the scene in all its primal freshness 
 and spirit, though far sundered in the flesh. 
 
 From Warrensburg to Johnsburg is another staging of 
 about the same distance: but the heavy globe-like stage-coach 
 is here exchanged for the lesser demands of travel, and a 
 two-horse wagon takes the mail and such comers as may need 
 transportation. In the summer season passengers are mainly 
 of the class like our party, bound for the woods. The scenery 
 now takes on a rougher aspect, the mountains looming up 
 still grander, often with seamed and scarred fronts, as if the 
 ages were stamping their wearing work upon them. 
 
 Soon after leaving Warrensburg the Hudson river rolls in 
 sight, and the road runs for many miles on its banks, often 
 cut upon the precipitous sides of a mountain, where the earth 
 above wears a threatening look of a slide, and the descent is so 
 sheer that the traveler is reminded of the midway perils of 
 Scilla and Charybdis. About half way between the two 
 villages is " The Glen," an embryo settlement consisting of 
 three modest tenements, one of which is a " watering" place. 
 Here the route crosses the Hudson by a spacious and high 
 covered bridge, and' the river, though still comparatively nar- 
 row, begins to take on some of the larger proportions of its after 
 grandeur of sweep . If any loosening and friction of the joints 
 and muscles were necessary for an introduction to the disci- 
 pline of the woods, it is most effectually accomplished by the 
 staging up and down on this part of the journey. 
 
 Johnsburg can hardly be called a place of growing im- 
 portance, the only noticeable addition, during the seven years 
 the writer has annually supped there, being an elegant house
 
 24 FOKKST AND LAKE. 
 
 recently erected by Mr. Robert Waddle, who is the leading 
 business man of the place. The public house is kept by his 
 brother, who is totally blind. Yet he moves about the 
 premises as though the full light of day flashed within, and 
 greets the arriving visitors whom he has met before with a 
 hearty welcome by name, guided to the recognition solely 
 by the sound of their voice. He converses freely like one 
 cognizant of passing events, apparently seeing as much 
 through the eyes of others as they do themselves. 
 
 One more (and the last) staging is from Johnsburg to North 
 River, about twelve miles distant, following the bank of the 
 river. This is a settlement made up of about thirty houses, 
 a small house of worship with no regular service, owing to 
 the sparseness of population, two hotels, and a store. The 
 public houses find profitable custom from summer hunting 
 parties who take this, the usual route into the southern camp- 
 ing grounds of the Adirondacks, and from their guides, who 
 on their return take the earliest opportunity to transfer their 
 liberal wages into the hotel cash-box, and wait for another 
 chance to recruit. The residents find occupation at tilling 
 the soil during the summer months, but lumbering is the 
 main dependence. As soon as the demands of the soil have 
 ceased, labor seeks the lumber regions which commence, and 
 finds good remuneration in felling the pine, spruce and 
 hemlock. The logs are drawn to the borders of the nearest 
 water-course, which in winter, when the heavy snows make a 
 broad highway, is a comparatively easy task, and when the 
 spring freshets come they are sent on their downward destina- 
 tion to Glens Falls. To secure their passage, which is often 
 interrupted by becoming wedged together forming a "jam," 
 men known as "river drivers" are employed at $5 per 
 day, to follow the floating treasure and keep it in motion. 
 The occupation is full of peril, the drivers often being com- 
 pelled to force their way among the wedged logs, through the 
 turbulent waters, needing a quick eye and active limbs to avoid 
 danger. With the utmost caution they occasionally fall vic- 
 tims in the treacherous contest. The lumbering is carried on
 
 FOKEST AND LAKE. 25 
 
 by companies, each of whom has an ownership mark which 
 is registered in the State Archives at Albany. This brand is 
 stamped on the butt of each log owned by a company, and the de- 
 facing or imitating of which is an offense severely punishable. 
 
 On leaving North River we take our last look at the outside 
 world and apparel for the woods. And here is a proper place 
 to introduce my companions, whom I shall designate as George, 
 Hyatt and John. George is one of the pioneer hunters of the 
 North Woods. He is one of a trio, with Chauncey and Crit, 
 who have carried their hunting and fishing implements over 
 a large portion of the mountain ranges of the Adirondacks, 
 and kindled their camp-fires on the borders of its numerous 
 lakes. In the pursuit of deer their "jack" lights have 
 flashed by night into every bend of lake and river, familiar 
 visitants, and their successful guns waked the echoes far and 
 wide through the mountain passes of this region. George 
 takes to a hunter's life as one to the manner born fertile in 
 resources, strong in endurance, and skillful in execution. 
 Hyatt was the philosopher and humorist of the party, ready 
 for any emergency, with willing hand and cheerful word. 
 John was on his experimental trip to the North Woods, yet 
 was destined to win his diploma for whatever he turned his 
 hand to, and his constructive skill was of good account. 
 
 Our luggage, or that portion of it deemed essential for the 
 camp always over-estimated in quantity was placed on a 
 heavy wagon drawn by two stalwart horses. Our day's desti- 
 nation was to Dick Jackson's, at Cedar river, a distance of 
 fourteen miles. It was too much like work at the opening to 
 be called a pleasure tramp. It frequently was a diversion, be- 
 sides enlarging our stock of scientific knowledge, to sit down 
 at short ranges on the verdant banks, and deliberate on the 
 botanic specimens which grew so luxuriant around us. We 
 never could see the philosophy in such a situation of 
 traveling as if escaping from fire, pestilence and famine, and 
 were scant of time to accomplish the job. This hint may ex- 
 plain why two of the party on the tramp sat down seini-occa- 
 sionally to examine the state of their heels. 
 3
 
 26 FOHEST AND LAKE. 
 
 Griffin's clearing is one of the landmarks of this region, a 
 place for the accommodation of man and beast. There we 
 paused with five miles of our destination yet before us. At this 
 point we caught sight of the towering peak of Blue mountain, 
 looming in the far distance above all other peaks, and at whose 
 base lay the queen of lakes, where our camp altars were to be 
 erected. The sight put new life into us. 
 
 Our route lay over the Indian river, which we soon reached. 
 Standing upon the bridge which spanned it, as far as the eye 
 could reach on either side was one dense mass of logs packed 
 so close as to entirely shut the water from view. These logs 
 were not sufficiently advanced to take advantage of last 
 spring's freshet, and now waited the next moving of the 
 waters. 
 
 We passed Hoxie's Variety Store at Indian river, where 
 hunters are supplied with the requisite articles for their occu- 
 pation. It is also a post-office delivery by courtesy, and the 
 mails are carried out and brought in once a week by a boy on 
 horseback. Hoxie is one of the originals of the North Woods, 
 and a sketch of his hunting career would be an interesting 
 narrative. But we must leave that to others more conversant 
 with his versatile career in that wild region. 
 
 Jackson's fine clearing in the valley of the Cedar river is in 
 view, and we know from experience there is all the weary 
 traveler can ask in store for us. As a housekeeper, Mrs. 
 Jackson is appreciated by all who have sat down to the table 
 prepared by her, and it is made a double relish, by her pleas- 
 ant welcome. Richard Jackson's clearing comprises over three 
 hundred acres in the river valley, and & finer farm is not often 
 seen, if the luxuriance of its crops is any basis of judgment. 
 Grass, oats, rye, barley, buckwheat, potatoes and ruta bagas, 
 all were in a condition which told the successful hand of labor 
 and the strength of the soil. Last year he harvested one thou- 
 sand two hundred bushels of oats this year about one thou- 
 sand was the estimate. It may be asked where is the market 
 for such crops at this out-of-the-way place ? We answer that 
 the winter's demand of the lumbering interest takes all he
 
 FOKEST AND L.AKE. 27 
 
 can spare, at prices much higher than our Dutchess farmers 
 ever realize. 
 
 A good night's rest the last between sheets we were to 
 have for many nights with a bountiful morning's repast, pre- 
 pared us for the outward forest stretch. Our luggage was 
 again taken in charge by Mr. Jackson's team and driver, and 
 we took to the woods beyond his clearing, with eight miles 
 between us and Rock river. We had procured a boat of Jack- 
 son and forwarded it by the wagon. Reaching Rock river we 
 landed our boat and shipped our cargo, but had struck our 
 oars only a few times, when we espied Chauncey approaching 
 in a boat. We were to be tenants of his cabin grounds at 
 Blue Mountain lake, and the meeting at this point was in ac- 
 cordance with previous arrangements. 
 
 We have alluded to the newcomer as one of the trio of well- 
 known hunters in the Xortli Woods. Chauncey Hathron is en- 
 titled to something more than a passing notice in this narrative. 
 Seven years ago he was engaged in mercantile business in 
 Saratoga. Failing health induced him to spend a few weeks 
 in the North Woods, and the restoring influences of the change 
 were so manifest that he gave up his business and made his 
 home in these solitudes. Of late years his comfortable cabin 
 is on the border of Blue Mountain lake, where, with his two 
 dogs as his constant companions, he traverses in all seasons 
 the dense forests in every direction, launching his boats and 
 casting his lines in the cluster of waters, and gathering veni- 
 son and trout for Lake George, Saratoga, and other summer 
 resorts. "Old Trim," his eldest canine companion, is known 
 and admired far and near through these forest haunts as a 
 model of his breed, and his sonorous bay is a pretty sure in- 
 dication that his swift and unerring feet are tracking the fly- 
 ing deer to its water refuge. Trim captured his first d.eer with 
 the aid of our companion George, and hence always welcomes 
 his revisits to his forest home with especial recognition. The 
 tourist in the Adirondacks is fortunate in securing the chap- 
 eronnge of Chauncey and his canine companions. If the deer 
 and trout are at such times within the reach of hunter or angler
 
 28 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 skill, he can count safely upon an exciting and successful 
 season. 
 
 But to return from our digression, to the launching of our 
 boat on Rock river, where Chauncey took us in charge. This 
 is a sinuous and rapid stream, in many places deep, where the 
 fallen trees prong out thickly, making the rower's task still 
 more twisting, if possible, than the line of the crooked waters. 
 It is an accretion from the springs which flow bounteously 
 from the mountains adjacent, and its prevailing icy tempera- 
 ture makes it one of the finest trout streams of the region. 
 Its marshy banks are also favorite feeding places for deer. 
 The noble large stuffed buck's head, ornamenting the walls 
 of Kuhn's International Restaurant in our city, was captured 
 by George a few years since upon this river. 
 
 After a six miles row we struck the landing from which a 
 path across the base of the mountain leads to Chauncey's 
 cabin, about a mile distant; leaving George and Chauncey at 
 the cabin to rehearse old times, the rest of us chose to begin 
 camp life in a comfortable bark shanty a few rods distant on 
 the beach, whose white, even and hard-beaten sand was a wel- 
 come change from the wild and rough tramp of the inner 
 forest. 
 
 This magnificent expanse of water is put down on some 
 maps as Lake Emmons. But we prefer to call it by the more 
 familiar name in hunter vocabulary, of Blue Mountain its 
 godfather, around whose lofty summit white mists linger and 
 clouds dally, looking down in sentinel duty over it. Of the 
 numerous wafer basins, stretching out to the vision from the 
 summit of the mountain, there is none to surpass, few to com- 
 pare with this lake, in the grandeur of its surroundings or its 
 surface beauty. Twenty-two islands, some of them acres in 
 extent and covered with evergreens, intersect the view and 
 add their ever- varying charms. 
 
 The closing of the shades of night was a signal of repose. 
 Chauncey had fallen a hemlock and its tips were gathered for 
 our mattress use. Spreading our rubber blankets over them, 
 with knapsacks for pillows and a blanket covering, we looked
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 29 
 
 out upon the blazing logs just beyond the safety line, and 
 watched the curling flames shooting up as if to reach the 
 lights of heaven, which gleamed down through the fluttering 
 leaves, whose rustling music was another impalpable key 
 '' striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound." 
 But all the poetry of the scene, and the slumber which be- 
 longed more essentially to the hour, were ruthlessly dashed 
 by Hyatt's inexhaustible drolleries, who seemed determined 
 to celebrate our advent to camp life with lively demonstra- 
 tions of regard. What with ''poking up the fire " by add- 
 ing rapid combustibles, until we began to fear for the safety 
 of our shanty, and poking up our risibles by equally sparkling 
 jokes, the light and laughter shook out from the domain of 
 silence all its darkness and gravity, and bluffed off for a time 
 even the screech owls, who had commenced their solemn 
 voices of the night. 
 
 Morning came, and with it the necessity for a breakfast. 
 At the entrance upon camp life this need is but moderately 
 pressing, but each day brings its increase of appetite, until 
 the approach of a repast is regarded with absorbing interest, 
 and rations are consumed, whicli to the often coy and dainty 
 appetite of city life would have been regarded as an awful 
 punishment. Our table was independent of carving and 
 polish very simple in form and structural detail. The 
 nearest approach to varnish was what had been left upon it 
 by the insufficient action of the dishcloth. Seats were im- 
 provised which answered all the purposes of the best uphol- 
 stered article. A cooking stove was transferred from 
 Chauncey's cabin, and tin cups and plates, knives and forks 
 of different and antique patterns, with other minor append- 
 ages of primitive housekeeping, constituted a sufficient set- 
 ting out for a camp, proving that there is one condition at 
 least where it is true that " man wants but little here below." 
 
 I am not going into the details of our pantry and cooking, 
 further than to say, that hung upon trees adjacent were some 
 fine specimens of native meat, and that trout were ready in 
 abundance for the stove before their flecked raiment had lost
 
 30 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 its gold and purple lustre. And if any doubt exists as to 
 Ckauncey's ability to make sucli supplies palatable, we inter- 
 pose the voucher, that the table rarely had enough left upon 
 it " for manners," or the dogs. But we cannot leave our 
 table department, sanctified to memory by Hyatt's regular 
 appeal to " fry the pork crisp," without replying, at least so 
 far as our camp was concerned, to a lady correspondent of the 
 New York Sunday Times, who thus discourses : 
 
 "Those amateur sportsmen who camp out for weeks every 
 summer would resent any imputations upon their neatness; 
 but oh, what pots and pans and gridirons have been seen in 
 the improvised pot-closet in a tent up in the woods ! What 
 dishes ! what knives ! what towels whereupon they wipe 
 every thing from a goblet to a fish ! They call it. primitive 
 housekeeping and that it is! Pepper and tobacco lie in 
 friendly contiguity to the bit of pork that is to give a zest to 
 the dinner of birds (not herbs). Pipes and bread are not far 
 apart, and a jack-knife thrust into the butter answers every 
 purpose. Think of these degenerate Nimrods, so dainty at 
 home that a speck of dust on a table, or a little roughness of 
 starch on a shirt collar, is not to be tolerated for a moment! 
 But put them, as it were, where like Peter, they have only to 
 ' Arise, kill and eat,' and oh ! what horrible things they will 
 do under the general head of ' camping out ! ' When fish 
 succeeds fish they do not waste time washing disbes, and day 
 after day the same proprietor claims the same cup and knife 
 and fork." 
 
 This writer must have been relating her experience among 
 the heathen ! We can vouch that our dishes were regularly 
 washed although when getting ready for a day's outing, it 
 must be confessed the dish water was sometimes hurried 
 through its office. And as to the scandalous allusion to 
 towels, had the writer witnessed, as we did repeatedly, Hyatt 
 putting our dish-wiper through a solution of soap and water, 
 she would have been convinced that there were exceptions to 
 her censure. Granted that some neophyte in housekeeping 
 among us, with more zeal than knowledge, may have acci-
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 31 
 
 dentally used the pot-clotli instead of the dish towel (we had 
 both), yet where is even the best regulated kitchen in which 
 some mistakes do not occur ? 
 
 An afternoon excursion in boats down the lake brought to 
 view two deers feeding leisurely upon the bank of the lake. 
 We watched them intently for a long time, then as we 
 approached they loped into the woods. Six or eight years 
 .ago the deer in this region had been comparatively so little 
 disturbed that they roamed freely in the day-time, and were 
 no unusual sight to the hunter. Now it is changed. They 
 rarely come down to the lake until darkness hides them from 
 view. 
 
 " Watching for deer" is a pastime requiring time, patience 
 and sharpness of vision. To Hyatt and myself, on one occa- 
 sion, was assigned a position on an island at the lower end of 
 the lake. We commenced duty in the most approved manner, 
 intently straining our eyes in every direction, as vigilant 
 sentinels, but our patience was unrewarded. Panther moun- 
 tain rose to the west of "us so named from its being a favorite 
 retreat of that animal. Our attention was arrested by a 
 peculiar cry, as from some object moving along the side of 
 the mountain. We. were ready to vote it was a panther, but 
 had no desire to make a closer investigation. True, there was 
 a liberal bounty offered to any one who would bag one of 
 these troublesome creatures, chip off its ears, and take it to 
 the proper place for paying the bounty. But we had a trust 
 assigned us to watch for deer and we could not in honor 
 indulge in the luxury of hunting bear or panther. 
 
 The panther, as well as the bear and wolf, are occasionally 
 killed in the mountains bordering this lake. Chauncey has 
 killed two panthers in his hunting experience in these woods. 
 During the winter, wolves are frequently seen, and when 
 driven by hunger, sometimes loiter on the borders of the lake, 
 waiting to pick up the dead fish-bait left by the fishermen. 
 While the snow lies deep the wolves are very destructive to 
 the deer, the latter being unable to move fast enough through 
 the snow to escape from their more agile foe. Bears also
 
 32 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 abound, and many are trapped in the winter months, their 
 robes bringing a valuable compensation. A large one was 
 seen on the road by which we entered, as we were informed 
 by a party who followed us. The red raspberry bushes grow 
 large and have a prolific yield wherever a clearing has been 
 made, and of this fruit the bear is very fond. The idea of 
 danger from these animals is scouted by guides and other resi- 
 dents, who pass through the wildest part of the woods, day 
 and night, without fear of interruption by them, and do not 
 carry arms with any idea of needed protection from danger. 
 They say that when seen, these wild habitants of the woods 
 seem anxious only to escape, and no instance is known of their 
 attacking a person. 
 
 Our diligence as watchmen abated, as no sound of hound 
 or game broke the monotony. Hyatt made the acquaintance 
 of a stalwart bullfrog, which reciprocated his intention by 
 working shoreward. He characterized it as a Daniel Webster 
 of the waters. Its broad forehead, expansive chest, and dig- 
 nity of expression and deportment were expatiated upon, un- 
 til the thought struck him that Daniel Webster's hind legs 
 could be turned to account as an addition to our larder. No 
 sooner said than done the great expounder of double-bass 
 swung in air pendulant from a fish-pole, and others of his fel- 
 lows whose hinder propellers had wasted their sweetness to no 
 particular benefit of mankind, were soon added to the booty, 
 making a collection which would have set a. Frenchman 
 dancing. 
 
 Our companions had all left their watching places and re- 
 turned gameless to the camp. We heard their recall by the 
 report of a gun; we struck for the camp, and had reached 
 within half a mile of it, when Hyatt sung out there was a 
 deer in the lake. We turned and saw it cleaving the waters 
 and pressing for the shore. Though much fatigued from the 
 long row we had just taken around the margin of the lake, 
 we pushed in the chase and progressed fast enough to turn 
 it back. As we drew near the expected prize it wheeled and 
 again plunged shoreward, and outspeeded us in the manoeuvre
 
 FOKEST AND LAKE. 38 
 
 When in range again Hyatt discharged both barrels of the 
 gun with excited aim, without other visible effect than to 
 stimulate the deer to greater speed. We had started with 
 but two loaded shells, and our ammunition being exhausted 
 we were left in the condition of the " foolish virgins," lamps 
 out and oil left in camp, so there was nothing to do but to 
 row for it. The report of the gun had signaled Chauucey 
 and George, who put out from the camp to assist in the cap- 
 ture. Our duty was to keep the deer in the lake until rein- 
 forcement arrived, and we made a good beginning, holding it 
 in the lake. But we failed in our tactics by getting abreast 
 of the game instead of guarding the rear. The deer was 
 quick to see the opportunity, and with a sudden wheel it 
 struck with renewed energy for the shore, about three rods 
 distant, our boat only reaching abreast again too late. As it 
 rose to the bank the other boat had reached within shot, and 
 a trigger was pulled, which, had the cap responded, would 
 doubtless have changed the result; but it didn't the only 
 report being a concussive report from Chauncey, and as the 
 flying deer, who had nobly earned his life and liberty, like his 
 prototype of Scott's creation in the " Lady of the Lake," as 
 
 "Bounding forward free and far, 
 Sought the wild heaths of Uam Var." 
 
 the ludicrousness of the scramble became intensely apparent. 
 A more " bio wed " couple than that which panted in our boat 
 could hardly be imagined. We retired leisurely and grace- 
 fully from the contest, musing on the uncertainties which 
 often dash the most earnest efforts and expectations, and were 
 willing the subject should be dropped. 
 
 On the first lowery day an excursion to the lower lakes be- 
 tween Blue Mountain and Raquette, was decided upon. Our 
 party, in two boats, set out with the intention of spending 
 the day at Loon brook, a famous tronting stream. The outlet 
 of Blue Mountain lake is a narrow chasm, thickly studded 
 with surface rocks. A half a mile of this channel, under 
 overhanging branches and between projecting boulders,
 
 34 FOKEST AND LAKE. 
 
 brought us into Eagles' Nest, a lake of picturesque setting, so 
 named by E. C. Judson, better known by his nom deplume of 
 " Ned Buntline." 
 
 On the southern baukjof Eagles' Nest, on a clearing of about 
 forty acres, Ned erected a neat tenement, with the covering 
 novelty for this region of shingles and clap-boards. Here for 
 years he buried himself from the outer world, and wrote his 
 sensational stories for newspapers and magazines. A sh'>rt 
 distance from the house there is an oblong verdant plot, 
 bordered with evergreens, where lie the remains of his youth- 
 ful wife, who shared with him the loneliness and privations 
 of his wilderness home. The sacred associations which clus- 
 ter around every grave appealed with peculiar force from 
 this secluded mound, as yet rarely visited by human foot. No 
 memorial stone or inscription is here, and the sepulchral rites 
 must of necessity have been in accordance with the lonely 
 scene. Yet the towering trees are ever sighing through 
 their foliage, and from the swelling lake which washes 
 its sloping bank, comes an almost ceaseless sympathizing 
 utterance in fitting requiem of one whose life was thus iso- 
 lated, and who sleeps so far from her kindred. 
 
 Ned's cabin is now occupied by a laborer, Mr. Harrington, 
 in the employ of the company who owns this township, and 
 we were indebted to him and his wife for the baking process 
 by which our camp was supplied with good bread. 
 
 Passing down the lake we espied among the tops of a dry 
 tree an eagle's nest, which indorsed the appropriateness of the 
 name Ned had given to the lake. We soon reached Loon 
 brook, which enters from the north about midway of the lake. 
 The indications of a wet day had now become apparent. The 
 rain, the first we had experienced since entering the woods, 
 now fell in occasional dashes, suited to the business on which 
 we were soon actively engaged. John, " the beloved," soon 
 demonstrated that he was a fisherman in another than his 
 usual field, and his successes were only interrupted by ex- 
 clamations of satisfaction as the finny beauties rolled over in 
 the boat from his line. The trout rose slow and sluggish to
 
 FORKST AND LAKE. 85 
 
 tlie fly, but the bait dropped down into their cold deep nooks, 
 got the better of their coyness, and our success was ample, 
 several of the trout running into their second poundage. 
 
 The near proximity of the sun to the mountain tops warned 
 us that our lines must be wound up, and our boat was turned 
 again down the lake. A few moments' rowing brought us to 
 the connecting passage with another lake. Lake Utawana, 
 as Buntline christened one of the prettiest links of this chain 
 upon which we now entered, has many points of attraction. 
 But the gathering shades of night and the increasing rainfall 
 were not favorable to rhapsody, and however indifferent to a 
 soak the angler may be, while he has a busy rod as a non- 
 conductor in his hand, he is inclined to meditate in a different 
 mood when his thoughts are left alone with the emptying 
 clouds. At the foot of the lake which had given us a two 
 miles' row, we struck the lauding leading to one of Chauucey's 
 bark shanties, on the bank of the outlet of Marion river, which 
 is the main inlet of Raquette lake, about eight miles distant. 
 Our shanty, though leaking and cramped in size, afforded a 
 welcome retreat ; and here, huddled in camp companionship, 
 with a fire of logs blazing at our feet, we rehearsed the inci- 
 dents of the day, smoked the calumet of peace, and dried our 
 saturated garments. The situation, could it have been seen 
 at that juncture, might have excited unnecessary sympathy 
 in certain quarters. Exercise, appetite, and pure air fortify 
 the system against apparently adverse elements, and make of 
 no material account what, under different circumstances, would 
 be regarded as grave disturbances. There is many an un- 
 strung invalid, whose quickest antidote, if not only adequate 
 remedy, can be found in just such discipline and practice un- 
 der Nature's healing code. 
 
 As our venison was exhausted, and there was no ingenious 
 Rebekah, as of old, to " prepare savory meat from the flock," 
 we resolved that the next best thing was to propose that 
 Chauncey and George should take a night-hunt on Marion 
 river for deer. As the crop of mosquitoes on the river was 
 unusually fertile this season, it was no pleasant task to sit
 
 36 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 like a statue in a boat, hour after hour, while the silent pad- 
 dler sent its bow into every nook and branching sweep of its 
 waters where the deer would be likely to feed. But there 
 was no flinching. Our purveyors left us to the quiet of the 
 camp-fire, while the still unbroken clouds, though temporarily 
 withholding their contents, gloomed darkly over us. It was 
 in the gray of the morning when our hunters returned with a 
 fine buck, another deer having been captured and left behind, 
 as overtaxing the capacity of the boat, but which was soon 
 added to our stores. 
 
 Marion river is a noted resort of the hunter and angler. 
 Like Rock river it is serpentine in its course, and in its deep 
 holes there is ample sport with the rod. As we have already 
 stated, this river, formed of the outflow of the three-mentioned 
 lakes, runs some eight miles into the Raquette, and boating 
 is good the entire distance. Our first intention was to pass 
 through the Raquette into the Fulton chain beyond. But 
 the indications of continuous wet weather, and the limit of 
 our time nearly reached, we reluctantly abandoned the pro- 
 ject. Two days in our narrow shanty, with constant scudding 
 clouds that frequently play their liquid anthem on the tree- 
 tops, made us desire our first quarters at Blue Mountain, and 
 before night we packed up and were on the back stretch. 
 The rain finished its mission for the time in a grand thunder- 
 storm, than which, with such surroundings, nothing could be 
 more impressive. The loud peals were caught up and pro- 
 longed by the echoes, which are here repeated with surprising 
 distinctness. Just before the storm, Chauncey and George 
 started for Eagles' Nest for a supply of bread, and had not 
 progressed far before it burst upon them. They could only 
 mark their position by the frequently recurring lightning 
 flashes, and one tremendous peal was so near that it shook the 
 oars out of their hands. They felt their way through the nar- 
 row passages, and before they reached camp were under a 
 clear sky. 
 
 The last evening of our camp sojourn had arrived. Strong 
 as were the inducements beckoning us out of the woods, there
 
 FOREST AXD LAKE. H7 
 
 was a feeling akin to regret that the sun was setting upon the 
 last day of our sport in the Adirondacks. We pushed our boat 
 from the shore, three of us as occupants and George in another, 
 leaving them to their own drifting motion by wind and wave 
 when we had struck deep water, and gazed upon the glories 
 of an evening sky, the beauties of whose cloud tints no pen or 
 pencil can portray. We watched its changes through all shad- 
 ings, crimson, rose, violet, and gold, upon a deep blue ground. 
 The mountains rolled backward and upward from the lake, 
 peak over peak, until upon the farthest in view the sun was 
 disappearing. Meanwhile Hyatt and John discoursed of sunset 
 scenes in their traveling observations in the old world, agree- 
 ing that this, at least, was an exception to the poet's contrast. 
 
 "Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run. 
 Along Morea's hills the setting sun 
 Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright. 
 But one unclouded blaze of living light." 
 
 And what were George's meditations as he floated, in reclin- 
 ing posture, the smoke-wreaths of his pipe, like fancy's airy 
 creations, seen but a moment and then vanishing. We thought 
 we could read them wandering back to earlier wood life, when 
 Chain lakes heard his rifle first, among those who sought the 
 seclusion of these romantic hunting grounds, and now weaving 
 anew the web of incident, woven of many colored experiences. 
 Perchance musing over the unsparing work of the woodman's 
 axe, thinning forests and damming streams, by which the deer 
 and trout had been driven from their long accustomed haunts. 
 For there are changes, even here, where an unaccustomed 
 observer would suppose change could hardly ever come ; and 
 year after year plodders for money are making noticeable in- 
 roads upon the old forests, which must send the seeker farther 
 and farther back in pursuit of game. 
 
 But the sun painting has faded from the sky, and visions 
 of the past, evoked under such influences to move with their 
 charm before us, must also yield to the sobering realities ever 
 in their train. In the early light of morning we were on the 
 return carry, and bade adieu to Old Blue mountain. 
 4
 
 88 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 LOWER SARANAC AND RAQUETTE LAKES. 
 
 No. I. 
 
 July 30, 1869. 
 
 I write you from the head of Long lake, where Palmer, 
 well known to all visitors of the northern wilderness, keeps 
 open house and dispenses generous hospitality. 
 
 My visit to this region finds me iu company with an ex- 
 perienced associate in cauip life, for the first time on the 
 northern route of entrance. It has the advantage of novelty 
 of scenery, and a long stretch of boating by lake and river, 
 more attractive in many respects than the continuous jolting 
 of stage travel. But it has far less seclusions of pursuit than 
 is found on the North river route. Those who entertain 
 strangers say there has never been such a rush of visitors. 
 Blood at the Saranac, Bartlett at Round lake, Johnson at the 
 Rapids of Raquette river, and Palmer, our present host, have 
 all been at their wits' end to know where to dispose of those 
 who have sought their quarters, and many have found it diffi- 
 cult to get a meal or a night's shelter. The exaggerated de- 
 scriptions which have been published of sport iu the Adiron- 
 dacks have drawn hundreds to this section, who have found 
 it was not all their fancy painted it. If they ever come again 
 it will be under sobered and wiser calculations for such a trip. 
 
 On the afternoon of the third day from home we reached 
 Bartlett's, a very pleasant stopping place between Round and 
 Upper Saranac lake. About midnight, while the rain was 
 pouring profusely, a party called for accommodations who had 
 just come in from below. They reported the loss of one of 
 their guides, by the name of Ed. Curtis. It appeared he was in- 
 toxicated, and, while endeavoring to manage his bark canoe, 
 lurched overboard. His companions heard his cry and went 
 back, but found only his empty canoe and floating hat . This 
 is the second guide who has found a whisky grave in the 
 lakes in this section within a short time. 
 
 On leaving Bartlett's we took the first lesson in shouldering 
 knapsacks. The carry to Lower Saranac, however, was but
 
 FOKEST AND LAKE. 39 
 
 a short half mile, and didn't try muscle very severely. At 
 Johnson's carry, at the Rapids of the Raquette, there was a 
 mile and a half to surmount, much of the way a steep upgrade. 
 If my knapsack, which a close calculation would have put at 
 about fifty pounds, didn't reach one hundred and fifty before 
 I got through that slippery up track, then I was under a great 
 delusion. 
 
 The hunters are complaining more earnestly than ever, of 
 the scarcity of deer. I learn that Murray, the " bookmaker" 
 of the Adirondacks, has killed only one so far, although, he 
 has been here for some time with a large company. 
 
 By the way, they tell a good story of the great fisherman and 
 hunter on paper to some incredulous reader of his great 
 exploit, which is illustrated by the tip of his pole crossing its 
 butt with two trout pendulous. In order to show the sceptics 
 how it could be done, Murray stepped into a boat, pole in one 
 hand, placed his foot on one side of the bow, leaning upon 
 which too heavily caused the stern to sheer suddenly in the 
 opposite direction, and over went the Adirondack historian, 
 kersplash into the water. His listeners saw the point of his 
 illustration. 
 
 To-day we start for Raquette lake, and whither from thence, 
 circumstances must determine. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 RAQUETTE LAKE, Augmt 5. 
 
 In my last brief note I informed you of our arrival at 
 Palmer's, at Long lake. At noon on the day following, having 
 procured a boat of Palmer, and necessary camp supplies, such 
 as pork, potatoes, flour, butter, etc., we started for this point. 
 We found at Long lake an old guide acquaintance, whom we 
 induced to accompany us part of the way. 
 
 Passing from the head of Long lake we struck Raquette 
 river again, and followed it to the Rapids, known as Butter- 
 milk Falls, where Murray locates his adventure of the Indian 
 maid Phantom, and the imaginary descent of his boat, with 
 himself and guide over the abyss. These Falls are worth
 
 40 FOIIEST AND LAKE. 
 
 seeing. The river for several rods dashes over the thickly 
 studded rocks, which churn the swift current into a foaming 
 avalanche down, down into a wide and tranquil bed. No boat 
 could ride these waters in safety. 
 
 At the foot of the Falls we enter upon the carry of a mile 
 and a half which leads to Forked lake. Here our guide left 
 us, as we had struck familiar waters. This lake is about four 
 miles long. At its head we reached the third and last carry, 
 between Long lake and Raquette, about half a mile long, 
 and here George essayed his first attempt in boat carrying. Our 
 craft weighed plump one hundred and ten pounds, and was no 
 trifling lift. After some little delay, in which the question of 
 success hung in doubt, it rose upon the shoulders of struggling 
 humanity a monument of pluck and perseverance, and with con- 
 quering steps it was soon launched upon the far famed lake, 
 which has since been our stopping place. Turning south, we 
 passed the Raquette House, on the left, kept by Carey, a well- 
 known resort to the North Woods hunters. Soon after we 
 passed an island known as Indian Point, for many years the 
 home of Mrs. Beach, one of the two pioneers of this section. It 
 is now temporarily occupied by Tait, a New York artist of high 
 repute as a game painter, and one of the most skillful sportsmen 
 in these waters. Just above, on the right, is the Wood place, 
 built and for many years kept by " old Wood," whose history 
 runs back to the first public attention directed to this grand 
 sheet of inland water. Here we found George's old friend, 
 Sid. Hayes, who has been its occupant for several years. He 
 received us with warm hospitality and made us feel at home. 
 As I had rowed some ten miles during the afternoon, for the 
 first time within the year handling an oar, the offer was pecu- 
 liarly appreciated. No fatigue, however, could make one 
 iffsensible to the rare beauty of scenery which spreads out on 
 all sides from the elevated positions. Lakes, islands and 
 mountains meet the eye on every side, and, from their varying 
 points of beauty, never tire the vision. 
 
 Sid. Hayes, the present occupant of the Wood place, was 
 formerly a bank-note artist in New York, in which business
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 41 
 
 lie was a skillful workman. The change in the character of 
 our currency, which threw out of existence our State banks, 
 broke up to a great extent the occupation of those engaged in 
 this business, and Hayes was attracted to this locality, as a 
 lover of its beautiful scenery, and one having a keen relish 
 for its exciting sports. He is a frank, true-hearted gentleman 
 of cultivated tastes, and universally esteemed among his 
 acquaintances. 
 
 While I am writing, Hayes has just returned with some 
 fifteen or twenty pounds of trout, caught in the lake, some 
 of them over a pound in weight. It is an indication of the 
 peculiarity of the season, that, at this lateness of the summer 
 period, brook trout should be mostly found in the deep waters 
 of the lake, instead of the spring-holes of the streams. They 
 are very scarce at the latter places. The weather continues 
 quite cold, with prevailing north winds and frequent rain. 
 
 The camp of Mr. Murray and his party is on an island, 
 nearly opposite Hayes' residence. An evening or two since 
 w were on a rise of ground near the head of the east inlet, 
 "smudging" off the flies and mosquitos, which are very 
 abundant this season, and waiting for the shades of evening 
 to set in for a "float " down the river. A party of boats came 
 down with ladies and gentlemen, and one boat stopping at our 
 landing, a man in hunter's garb came up to our fire bringing 
 a teapot, and asked the privilege of sharing it with us. In 
 the conversation which followed, we learned that our visitor, 
 Mr. Murray, was tarrying on the same business as ourselves. 
 Having partaken of liis frugal meal, and enlivened the same 
 with pleasant stories of wood life, it was arranged that he 
 should have the first chance down. Not long after, loud 
 snorting, or, as it is called, " whistling," was heard, showing 
 that one deer had taken the alarm in time to save himself 
 from a pretty sure shot. We followed soon after and were 
 served with the same music from two other deer. They were 
 feeding on the marsh adjoining the stream, which furnishes 
 feed so fresh that there was no sufficient attraction in the 
 grass and lily buds in the water's edge.
 
 42 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 The hunters complain of the scarcity of deer this summer. 
 The extreme coldness of the season may account for this, 
 keeping them back in the shelter of the woods. 
 
 In a day or two we propose a brief visit to our old camping 
 ground at Blue Mountain. 
 
 t, HI. 
 
 OUTWARD BOUND, : A?igust 19. 
 
 Post-carriers out of the woods are few and far between. 
 Hence, if the convenience for writing should offer, the pros- 
 pect is that any temporary visitor to these parts will be likely 
 to reach home as quick as his letters. 
 
 Since my last we have serpentined through lakes, and up 
 and down the cold water brooks leading into them, and 
 caught fish-bites and mosquito-bites in about equal proportion. 
 
 The fly-rod of the latter is a wonderful contrivance, and the 
 victim is very apt to ' ' rise " when it is thrown . You touch a 
 bush with your passing boat, and out go a swarm of these 
 river songsters, following you as if their first and only chance 
 for blood depended upon putting you through. There is no 
 use in trying to outstrip them. I have watched with inter- 
 ested curiosity their speed, and am satisfied that in a three 
 mile quick pull they will come out the freshest at the end, 
 " nip and tuck " with you. 
 
 Contractors for game at the lakes have raised their prices, and 
 are now paying sixty cents a pound for brook trout, about forty 
 cents for lake trout, and twenty cents for venison. Of course, 
 the contractors who sell at Lake George, Saratoga, and other 
 summer resorts realize a still higher return. These prices 
 give to those who make angling and hunting a business very 
 lucrative wages, but the curse of whisky, and the poorest kind 
 at that, consumes the whole, with the greater part of this 
 class. 
 
 Parties are coming and going at the Raquette this season 
 more numerously than ever. Few of them are prepared to 
 accept the annoyances and hardships of such an excursion, 
 for the real solid good which can be derived from it. But it
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 43 
 
 is equally true that in the same old ruts cf daily occupation, 
 both mind and body become shortened in their powers, and so 
 contracted within narrow orbits as to lose sense of enjoyment 
 intended for daily use. The excitements here with the rod and 
 gun, and the discomforts of the insect world, levying tribute 
 or collecting revenue, are but incidentals to the great end of 
 sharpening the eye from glorious far-off looks, or quickening 
 the ear in the lighted boat on the midnight paddle, listening 
 for the footfall of the red deer. If you miss your deer or 
 trout you are still the winner. Your needed training is going 
 on. Like the smoker's meerschaum, you not only " color " 
 beautifully, but feel that it is the sign and seal of recuperat- 
 ing forces within, while your quickened lungs beat their silent 
 tune with a new sense of pleasant existence. You can get 
 spunky when any thing goes unsatisfactory, just as quickly 
 here as anywhere else, but then you have the advantage that 
 you can get over it quicker, for the ridiculousness of getting 
 out of patience amid such surroundings is sublimely apparent. 
 And then for a lodge in the wilderness improvised from hasty 
 materials, and, before rolling in your blankets for the night, 
 to watch, with an appealing appetite as I have, George 
 broiling a trout or slice of pork on a crotched twig, and pull- 
 ing his moustaches, the meanwhile, as if there were some 
 invisible sympathy between them and the simmering coffee 
 over the coals; and we have given glimpses of life in the 
 woods which the lover of Nature in her freedom and wildness 
 will hold as a lingering charm. 
 
 Among the visitors to the Raquette we have had the pleas- 
 ure of meeting Mr. J. H. Mathews, who is recreating here for 
 a few days, accompanied by a friend from New York. They 
 enter with zest into the occupations of wood life, and will 
 doubtless reap its benefits. 
 
 We also had a call from Mitchell Sabattis, the clever and 
 experienced guide, who accompanied Messrs. Leasing and 
 Buckingham on their explorations of the sources of the Hud- 
 son and to the top of Mount Marcy, a few years ago. He 
 inquired about them with much apparent interest.
 
 44 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 Chilly, cloudy weather has been the rule rather than the 
 exception, so far during this season. On the night of August 
 8th a frost that would have done credit to December wilted 
 and browned corn to the roots in some places. When we 
 reached Dick Jackson's clearing we found him busily engaged 
 in haying. He calculates on one hundred tons this season, a 
 pretty good cut for a mountain farmer, fourteen miles from 
 any settlement. Oats are looking very fine in this region, 
 with their heavy heads and large stalks. But they hold their 
 greenness still, and frosts are feared. This will be remem- 
 bered as a cold season among the Adirondacks. 
 
 Bears are still seen occasionally on the borders near the 
 clearings. The men whom we passed informed us on our re- 
 turn, that they started one out of the path we had just left. 
 Bruin was wallowing, hog like, in a puddle, but was in such a 
 hurry to leave that he did not stop to shake himself. Such in- 
 cidents create no sensation among the natives, as the timidity 
 and shyness of bruin are a long established fact among them. 
 
 The completion of the Adirondack railroad to Thurman, 
 thirty-eight miles from Saratoga, and within three miles of 
 Warrensburg, makes this by all odds the choice of routes into 
 the North Woods. It is already graded some distance beyond 
 Warrensburg, and will follow the west bank of the Hudson, 
 most of the way along the line of the old abandoned grade 
 commenced several years since. 
 
 There is some talk of its being finished to Johnsburg, ten 
 miles from Warrensburg, but this will not be done probably 
 until next season. From thence the rich lumber and iron ore 
 of the forest, not many miles distant, will be reached, and its 
 wheels bear out to the busy world vast treasures now locked 
 in fastnesses where the foot of man is rarely if ever heard. 
 The day that witnesses such an innovation will date the van- 
 ishing of much which gives a peculiar attraction to these soli- 
 tudes; but it will open to common and easy travel, with 
 well-provided accommodations, a magnificence of scenery and 
 purity of atmosphere, far exceeding that of the most favored 
 resorts of the present day.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 45 
 
 FROM LOWVILLE TO PLATTSBURGH. 
 
 August 5, 1871. 
 
 After about a week's absence from my post, it occurs to me 
 that I may make up a brief memoranda of its experiences, etc., 
 and improve an opportunity, somewhat unusual to camp life 
 here, of sending a message out. Leaning against a stump, 
 with my knees for a writing desk, is the choice of position af- 
 forded, but the inconvenience of stump writing may save you 
 from the infliction of a long letter. 
 
 Mr. Slee and myself reached Lowville Tuesday noon, the 
 day following our departure from P., where we met by ap- 
 pointment a team sent for us by Mr. Charles Fenton, proprietor 
 of well-known quarters to all parties visiting the northern 
 wilderness of this State by this route. Fenton resides at 
 Township No. 4, about eighteen miles from Lowville, over as 
 rough a road for the most of the way as any that has come 
 within my experience of wood travel. 
 
 At Fenton's we met the guide he had engaged for us 
 Danforth Knowlton. Danforth is a Massachusetts-Yankee, a 
 strong-limbed, clever, ingenious specimen of his class. We 
 found him a trusty, willing, and competent guide, and can 
 commend him to all who need the services of such a companion 
 in the North Woods. Seven years ago his desire to follow a 
 hunter's life led him to this section, where he has since fol- 
 lowed the occupation of a guide in summer, and a trapper of 
 fur animals in the fall and winter. 
 
 Parties from this point uniformly strike for Smith's lake, 
 which is the largest on this route until you reach Big Tupper 
 lake. As there were two or three shanties already occupied 
 on that lake we concluded to defer our visit to that water and 
 turn into Salmon lake, one of the " Red Horse Chain," as it is 
 called. 
 
 From Fenton's to Beaver Brook, about eleven miles of rough 
 road, our baggage is carried by a team. We reach Wardwell's 
 House. " Wild Woods Home," after four hours' travel, where 
 a good dinner is provided, and is sure to meet a good appetite.
 
 46 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 Our boats are here started on this brook for a run of ten miles 
 up stream. It abounds in deep boles where the trout at this 
 season find their feeding grounds. We took sufficient for our 
 table supply without stopping, and reached the shanty on its 
 bank in time for an early supper and preparation for our first 
 night's lodging in the woods, with our rubber blankets the 
 only separation between us and mother earth. Here we met 
 a veteran dominie with two lads, who had been camping out 
 for ten days, ready to depart on the morrow. They had ex- 
 hausted their stock of provisions, but, the dominie said, had 
 saved an enormous appetite, and must have something to eat 
 for breakfast, or starve. Our larder was ample and we had 
 the satisfaction of saving them from that calamity. 
 
 In the morning we turned northward, boating across Burnt 
 lake, one of the smaller collections of water dignified by that 
 appellation, and reached a carry of a mile and a half. Here 
 came one of the tugs of forest travel. Loads are apportioned 
 somewhat according to capacity on an English racecourse. 
 Yet after footing half a mile or so it would be difficult to 
 convince one of the weaker parties, that he had not been 
 reckoned, in the distribution of the burden, as one of the 
 stallions of the first carrying force. 
 
 There is an end to all mortal experiences, and the truth is 
 never accepted with heartier conviction than when water 
 destination breaks upon the sight, to close this pack-horse 
 work. We reach Salmon lake, the second in the Red Horse 
 chain, where we were to pitch our tent. Tired as we were, 
 and thus more acceptably inclined to favorable judgment, we 
 must confess to some disappointment, especially in view of 
 its imposing name. It is a secluded basin about a mile in 
 length, and from a third to half a mile in width, with few 
 points jutting out to break the straightness of line, and not an 
 islet on its bosom. The view is shut in entirely by gentle 
 eminences, unrelieved by a single commanding peak. We 
 struck it near the outlet, and while our guide went back for 
 the balance of our supplies, sat and watched the rising of a 
 heavy cloud, of threatening aspect. The first pattering drops
 
 FOHEST AND LAKE. 47 
 
 warned us to seek shelter, and spreading our rubber blankets 
 over our traps, and turning our boat over, we crawled beneath 
 its cover, and enjoyed in security an outpouring of rain. Our 
 guide returned as the clouds were breaking up, and soon we 
 were paddling for the upper end of the lake, selected for our 
 headquarters. With a tent well bedded with hemlock boughs, 
 and a blazing camp-fire before it, the roughest place in the 
 wilderness is soon transformed into a scene of comparative 
 comfort. The cold, rainy weather, which set in steadily for 
 two or three da\s, found us well sheltered, and we could 
 listen to the roaring of the thunder and the music of the 
 winds among the swaying branches of the overhanging trees, 
 with an added sense of the grandeur of Nature, in her tem- 
 pest phases. 
 
 But there are also lessons of instruction in humbler aspects. 
 Looking out of the tent opening in the morning, we beheld 
 our guide, in shirt and vest only, sitting on a log, mending 
 his pantaloons, defiant of the keen morning air. He explained 
 the severe simplicity of his attire, by saying that he had for- 
 gotten to bring an extra pair with him, and thus allayed ap- 
 prehensions of his sanity. It was a suggestive hint of the im- 
 portance of being doubly provided against the wear and tear of 
 wood travel, as one never realizes more fully under such circum- 
 stances " what a day may bring forth " and require covering. 
 
 Salmon lake may have been better entitled to this name in 
 bygone days. At present the salmon (or lake trout) are not fre- 
 quent captures. Only one of this kind has as yet displayed 
 his proportions in our boat. But with speckled trout it 
 abounds in good measure, and we have taken all we need 
 some of fine size. While engaged in this sport on the second 
 evening, a deer came down to the bank, in handy distance for 
 a rifle, but the prohibitory statute protection had not quite 
 expired, and what may have been more prohibitory, our rifle 
 was in camp. The animal parted from view, with an admoni- 
 tory whistle to his kind that an enemy had arrived. 
 
 The delusion must be given up that these beautiful tenants 
 of the great northern wilderness, which once were seen
 
 .48 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 .throughout the day disporting in the waters, have now any 
 portion of it left to themselves, where they can be thus visible. 
 Bullet and buckshot have largely done the work of extermi- 
 nation, and now they must be sought with many disappoint- 
 ments, and are rarely seen. Even in this locality, where no 
 party has left encampment evidences preceding us for many 
 months, presence of deer is only traceable by their occasional 
 footprints in nightly visitation to the streams running in and 
 out. 
 
 But if the deer are diminishing, the insect world still hold 
 their own, and are ready to die game at all hours. The deer- 
 fly, the mosquito, the midge or punkie, are fresh and fearless 
 as ever. Some one has said, "Man's love is of himself a 
 thing apart." It is not so of the love of the insect -biting 
 world for him. There is no " apart " ideas of relation in their 
 philosophy. " Thine forever," or as the Yankee phrased it 
 more appropriately, " Yours tu death," seems to be their be- 
 ing's end and aim. We have speculated whether the expan- 
 sion of the muscles of the arms, which occurs during a sojourn 
 in the woods, is not owing mainly to the rapidity, strength 
 and frequency of motion in brushing away these disturbances. 
 Of the three kinds named, as "sample bricks," the least in 
 size and biggest in consequence is the punkie. The mos- 
 quito announces his coming with a grand flourish of his trum- 
 pet. The deer-fly leaves no sting of any account behind. 
 But the punkie, if you see it at all, is only a little black speck, 
 which you marvel is sufficient for organism of life, yet he 
 bites ferociously, crawls up into your hair and down your 
 neck, and raises a blotch on some victims like a mosquito. It 
 swarms in early morning and at evening, and is prolific on 
 water-courses. Passing up the inlet of the lake with the 
 guide, the other evening, we watched him brushing away these 
 pests, until his quiet speech took the utterance of " d n 
 the punkies ! " With both hands lively engaged in like occu- 
 pation, we felt that there was an inclination of responsive 
 weakness on our part, even under most guarded duty of ex- 
 pression.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 49 
 
 The other three lakes of this chain are Witch Hopple, Nig- 
 ger and Crooked. We made an excursion to the first named, 
 to try a night float for deer. Its name, we are told, comes 
 from an interlacing stout viuelike bush which grows in rank 
 abundance and " hopples " your progress. The distance is 
 about fifteen minutes' walk. It is a beautiful little lake, of 
 lesser size than Salmon, but with a much finer setting and sur- 
 roundings. We made our way to a winter log shanty which 
 our guide had built for his trapping uses, back from the lake 
 among the heavy timber. It was arranged that Slee and the 
 guide should go out on the lake for a night hunt, and like Robin- 
 son Crusoe I was left for the time monarch of all I surveyed. 
 
 We can conceive of no fuller sense of solitude than the iso- 
 lation of trapper life in this spot. Some forty-four miles away 
 from any village settlement, and a great portion of that dis- 
 tance away from any human habitation, it must be more an 
 infatuation for the wild and stirring pursuit of the occupation 
 than the chances of profit, that draws him hither. Looking 
 out upon the hoary old trees, lighted by the flickering blaze 
 of the camp-fire, where the axe of commerce has not yet felled 
 a tree, and the forest has only yielded its tribute to the need- 
 ful uses of the hunter, his is the teaching of the vastness and 
 antiquity of the earth, of which civilized life has only a 
 dwarfed and faint conception. And yet what changes must 
 have followed successively even here, since the native owners 
 and occupants wooed their dusky beauties to their wigwams, 
 and took their spoils in easy abundance from forest and lake. 
 The panther, bear, and wolf, the common prey of his bow and 
 knife, have also largely disappeared, and the deer and trout 
 must soon be comparatively among the things that were, if 
 they have not nearly reached that state. 
 
 One feature, however, remains, upon which the changing 
 influence of time has fallen slightly. These beautiful lakes, 
 with their clear, cold waters sparkling in sunlight, or waved 
 by the storm, still remain in many places untouched by the 
 hand of utility, seemingly as perfect in their charm as when 
 the primal light burst upon them.
 
 50 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 The night hunters return, and report no sound or sight of 
 deer, and once more we gather to our blankets and lowly 
 couch. 
 
 Our return route is laid out up the remainder of Stillwater 
 to Albany and Smith lakes, through the Tupper and Saranacs 
 to Plattsburgh to Lake Champlain homeward. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 My previous letter left us in a state of preparation for a 
 movement farther into the wilderness. Camp life explains 
 the propensity of settlers on the frontier to break up their 
 quarters on a sudden impulse, and give their clearing axe a 
 more solitary sound beyond its wonted field of labor. The 
 eye longs for new surprises, and imagination pictures more 
 stirring scenes. This is no difficult process where the home 
 shelter is so readily constructed, and some new El Dorado 
 looms up invitingly in the distance. 
 
 A half an hour's labor enables us to take up our tent, pack 
 our supplies, and walk. Returning on the trail we had en- 
 tered, we launched our boat again on Beaver river, and turned 
 up the stream for Albany lake, our destination for the night. 
 This river, from Stillwater, where we first struck it, to Albany 
 lake, has a run of about twenty-five miles, much of the way 
 with a rapid current. Its turnings and windings can be under- 
 stood from the fact that it is only about nine miles by land, 
 through the forest that lines its banks. The work of the oar 
 in making the passage is greatly increased by the effort re- 
 quired to keep the boat on a turn with the stream, and the 
 constant lookout ahead to dodge partially submerged rocks. 
 Dinner hour overtook us in willing humor, as it inevitably 
 will under such circumstances, and we landed at an inviting 
 . place on the bank of the river. Getting dinner in the woods 
 is a simple process. After kindling a fire, the next invariable 
 requisites are a crotch and pole. These two articles are 
 staple commodities in camp life. To make your temporarv 
 shanty for a night's lodging, or prepare your dinner, crotches 
 and poles do wonders.
 
 FOHEST AND LAKE. 51 
 
 The guide had driven a crotched stick just back of the fire r 
 and pushed a sharpened pole obliquely in the ground, leaving 
 a short projection resting on the crotch over the fire, from 
 which the coffee pot was soon to send out its steaming odor, 
 when he informed one of the party that there was a famous 
 spring-hole not far distant in the forest, where large trout 
 could be taken. 
 
 Fisherman took the bait at once and started through the 
 dense mass of alders, iu the direction pointed out. After 
 floundering about a half an hour among the vine-twisted un- 
 derbrush, now picking up his hat, then releasing his tackle 
 from a fettering twig or vine, he came out again in astonish- 
 ment near the place he had entered, to behold his companions 
 quietly dispatching dinner. Whether it was a ruse on the 
 part of the guide to get the start at dinner, or a pious fraud 
 to give the angler a better relish for it, by preliminary exer- 
 cise, is an unsolved riddle; but of one thing he is certain, 
 that the locality of that spring-hole, and the cause of his com- 
 ing out at the same hole he entered, are a mystery, although 
 he found about every thing else, in his flounder! ngs through 
 bushy labyrinths. 
 
 "Time and tide wait for none," and we had one of these, 
 and an equivalent in the rapid current for the other, to con- 
 tend with. The sun was dropping low toward a mountain 
 top, as we resumed our progress, with a carry ahead, and Al- 
 bany lake yet at working distance. After about an hour's 
 row we struck the rapids, where for about a mile the river 
 dashes downward through a bed of rocks, giving wild music 
 to wilder scenery. Here with knapsacks, blankets, hunting 
 and fishing implements, and other camp equipage, back 
 weighted and hands full, we took the narrow trail through 
 the woods, leaving the guide to drag his boat between and 
 over the rocks which line the passage. Coming out ahead at 
 boating water, we waited for him, and seated on a rock out in 
 the stream watched the new section of the world to us through 
 the curling smoke of a cigar. Presently Danforth hove in 
 sight, tugging and lifting his swinging craft, which seemed
 
 52 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 to be as obstinate of propulsion as the Irishman's pig, " which 
 frisked about so he couldn't count him." Guide evidently had 
 seen trouble. The rapids were emphatically denounced, and 
 the loss of paint and other damage to his boat, by its frisky 
 collision with the rocks, and the amount of labor he had ex- 
 perienced, were duly descanted. We gently reminded him of 
 the favorite air which, with genuine Yankee drawl, he was 
 wont to enliven every occupation 
 
 "jNever sit dowu with a tear or a frown , 
 But paddle your own canoe," 
 
 but the jest was evidently too practical, and in moody silence 
 we gathered again to the home stretch and night quarters, 
 thinking of the ideas of a jolly time and no drawbacks, which 
 some who have an itch for camp life in the wilderness en- 
 tertain. 
 
 Albany lake is a charming stretch of water, abounding with 
 lake and brook trout, and a favorite resort of deer. Its lower 
 extremity spreads out into a beautiful bay, which affords at- 
 tractive grounds for the rod and line. Passing this, its waters 
 again contract, leaving close quarters for a boat through the 
 lilies and rushes which spread over its surface. At the head 
 of this marshy passage are some large stones, the foundation 
 remains of a bridge connecting an old State military road, 
 which many years ago was opened through this section. 
 When it was made, or for what special purpose used for mili- 
 tary transportation, we could not learn. The road is over- 
 grown and almost obliterated, but that doubtful quantity, a 
 hunter's story, says it can be followed in its entire length 
 through the northern wilderness. 
 
 The lower portion of the main valley of the lake soon came 
 in view, but a long sweeping curve still shut off the bulk of 
 waters extending above it. We chose for our encampment 
 an elevated point, and in a few moments our tent was in po- 
 sition, bed gathered from neighboring hemlocks, and supper 
 in preparation. Our camp-fire glanced far off upon the still 
 surface of the lake, and " the loon's lone cry " at intervals
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 53 
 
 broke the silence. With the first novelty of the situation 
 worn off, sleep deep and refreshing after a day of hard exer- 
 cise held us firmly until morning. There is an almost magical 
 restorative effect from such a couch, where the pure air of the 
 mountains can get freely at the lungs. It requires contri- 
 vance at first to adjust yourself to an occasional inequality of 
 some projecting twig, but practice makes perfect, and it soon 
 comes round all right. I may remark in passing, as I was in- 
 formed by Mr. Blood, of Lower Saranac hotel, that a party 
 from Utica left his place for a short stay at Big Tupper lake, 
 among whom was an invalid lady. After a month's trial of 
 camping experience she wrote back to him that she concluded 
 to stay six weeks longer, was able to eat fried pork with the 
 heartiest of them, and to share untired in their wood rambles. 
 
 It is expected in camp life in this region that venison and 
 trout will be usual dishes on the table. But sometimes from 
 necessity, if not choice, the bill of fare is varied. Our bill 
 of fare during a day's sojourn on this lake was hasty pudding 
 and maple sugar for breakfast, a wild-duck stew with dump- 
 lings for dinner, and frogs' hind-quarters for supper. If any 
 doubt the adaptedness and relish of such entertainment to the 
 situation, let them try it and learn how easy it is to be mis- 
 taken. True, my companion eyed the dumplings with sus- 
 picion, and thought they were rather "hefty," but it was 
 only a momentary weakness, a lingering tribute to home 
 fashions, as nothing was left to show the skill of the cook 
 but satisfied appetite. 
 
 Early in the morning following we were again on the move, 
 and passing the bend in the lake, had a splendid view by early 
 sunlight of the upper and finest portion of the lake. Its en- 
 tire length is about four miles, and from a half to three-quar- 
 ters of a mile in width, and it is surrounded by an unbroken 
 wilderness. At the time we visited it there was no other 
 party on it. We learned that parties who had preceded us 
 had baen very successful in capturing deer, several of these 
 animals having been seen in the day-time feeding upon its 
 banks.
 
 54 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 Near the upper end of the lake, on the left, we struck the 
 trail for Smith's lake, which is a carry of three-quarters of a 
 mile. The crossing is well denned, and comparatively easy, 
 as the bulk of the travel through this section is to this lake, 
 which is a favorite resort for several parties, who have for 
 years made it their summer encampment. 
 
 No. III. 
 
 Smith's lake, at which place my last note of wilderness 
 travel left us, bounds the summit level of water. It is the 
 last collection in this line of basins which flow southerly aa a 
 tributary through the Mohawk and Hudson to the Atlantic. 
 " Charley Pond," as it is called, the nearest water to it on the 
 north, falls in the opposite direction northerly to the St. Law- 
 rence . 
 
 This lake is the largest we have met so far on this route, 
 and has many points of beauty. In its general contour it has 
 much resemblance to Blue Mountain lake, and in size nearly 
 equals it. A Syracuse party, some half dozen in number, had 
 just left as we entered it. -Another party from Philadelphia 
 had recently completed a month's encampment on its banks, 
 and both were quite successful with the rod and gun. 
 
 Smith's lake, at least so says hunter's legend, takes its 
 name from a misanthrope by that name, who some thirty 
 years ago fled from society and made his hermit home here, 
 on account of domestic troubles. The foundations of his log 
 house are still visible, and a once extensive clearing made by 
 him, for the uses of fuel aud other purposes, is now covered 
 with hardwood trees, which uniformly succeed the original 
 pine, hemlock, etc. Passing through the old clearing, fifteen 
 minutes' climb of the mountain brings to view a splendid pan- 
 orama of lake and wilderness stretches, presenting a vivid 
 sectional survey of the vast amount of timber resources, not 
 yet reached by railroad or continuous water transportation. 
 
 Two sons of Mr. \Vesson, the inventor of firearms, bear- 
 ing his name, with two youthful companions, all of them in
 
 FOKEST AND LAKE. 55 
 
 their "teens," with three guides, were in camp here, highly 
 enjoying the situation, and full of marvelous experiences. 
 We captured the only deer of our roving trip on the outlet of 
 this lake, after a long night hunt reaching into the morning 
 hours. 
 
 On the morning of the third day following our entrance 
 upon it, we were again aboard, steering for the upper end of 
 the lake. Here a very passable carry of a mile and a half 
 brought us to Charley Pond, whose waters, as we have stated, 
 are the turning point in a northerly direction. With the excep- 
 tion of three or four hours during midday the air was sharp 
 and frosty, and woolen blankets and a substantial camp-fire 
 were comfortable additions to our night's lodgings. 
 
 About a mile down the pond is the carry of half a mile to 
 Little Tupper, which has an inlet from this source of about 
 three miles, easy and pleasant boating. We stopped on the 
 way at spring-holes pointed out by the guide and had a fine 
 catch of trout. Our camp was pitched on a prominence run- 
 ning out in the lake, covered by yellow pines, the first timber 
 of this kind we had noticed. While enjoying our evening 
 meal a boat came up the lake, in which were a gentleman and 
 lady, and approached our quarters. They inquired if we had 
 seen a guide who had started out in the morning with his dog 
 to drive in a deer. At that moment a loud call was heard 
 from some distance on the opposite shore, and they put off to 
 meet him. Other boats containing ladies were seen gliding 
 over the lake during the evening. The presence of dry goods, 
 even in the bloomer costume, was novel and refreshing, and 
 iny companion and the guide began to pay a little more 
 attention to their toilet. 
 
 Little Tupper is the usual boundary in these Nature's way- 
 side travels from a northerly direction. And indeed there 
 is no need of going further to find expanse of water, attract- 
 ive seclusion and wildness of scenery. Of irregular surface, 
 dotted by islands, and spreading out into capacious bays, it 
 affords all desirable employment for rod and rifle, in the best 
 season of such sport. From its main inlet to the outlet it
 
 56 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 reaches about seven miles, and its geographical surroundings 
 must for years to come defy the incursion of lumbermen. 
 
 At break of day our craft was pointing down the lake. The 
 fog was so thick we could not see a boat's length ahead. Oc- 
 casionally the dusky outline of trees required us to solve 
 whether we were approaching shore or an island. The sun 
 finally got sufficient mastery of the fog, to point the way, and 
 show we had not wandered much from the desired direction. 
 There were two camps, on an extensive scale, occupied at this 
 the finest portion of the lake, one of them including several 
 ladies. 
 
 The outlet of Little Tupper is through a marsh of water 
 plants, covering the surface so completely that a little way off 
 no passage can be seen for boating. We threaded our way many 
 acres through the lilies, and entered a round lake about two 
 miles long. At its foot a series of picturesque rapids commence, 
 and for a mile or so the water boils over obstructions into deep 
 basins, which catch the eye as choice place for trout, in the 
 season when they lie at the rifts. On the carry along these 
 rapids we' met with several shanties, which doubtless had been 
 occupied by successful sportsmen during May and June. Still- 
 water now favored us until we reached the dam and saw-mill 
 at the head of Big Tupper lake, the first evidence of the cre- 
 ative hand of civilization we had seen for weeks. It is but a 
 few steps, and our boat and baggage are let down an embank- 
 ment into these last-mentioned waters. 
 
 No. IV. 
 
 Big Tupper is a greater favorite with pilgrims to the North 
 Woods than its little namesake, perhaps because it requires less 
 physical exertion to reach it. Their titles, however, are cal- 
 culated to deceive an inquirer, as in size there is hardly suffi- 
 cient difference to warrant the distinction. At some distant 
 day, when the voice of the iron horse shall echo through the 
 mountain gorges surrounding them, they will doubtless be 
 identified by more imposing titles.
 
 FOKEST AND LAKE. 57 
 
 At various points 011 the main shore, as well as on the 
 islands, white tents glistened in the fading sunlight, indicating 
 the more numerous proximity of fellow mortals once more. 
 Boats filled with both sexes were moving upon the waters, 
 and mingling song and merry laughter came upon the ear in 
 pleasant contrast with the surroundings. 
 
 There are two well-known houses for the accommodation of 
 visitors on this lake. Graves, a Boston man, at the upper end, 
 has nearly completed a spacious edifice, well-finished and 
 painted, which in addition to his old quarters will enable him 
 to furnish ample room for the increasing summer travel to this 
 locality. At the lower end, Moodie's place, in a beautiful pine 
 grove, commanding a fine view of the lake, is well patronized. 
 Moodie is an old hunter and boatman, homely and pleasant in 
 his ways, and does his best to make his guests comfortable. 
 Here we met our young townsman, Charley Cornwall, who has 
 been boarding with Moody since last spring, and is captivated 
 with attractions of this out-of-the-way life. A few days pre- 
 vious he met with a very lively incident in undertaking a feat 
 which is not laid down as of any practical value in hunter's 
 tactics. While out in a boat alone on the lake, he encountered 
 a buck, and went for him. He grappled the animal's tail, but 
 not expediting matters fast enough by that hitch, he changed 
 his hold to the other end, and essayed to pull him in by the 
 horns. This suited buck, and his forefeet immediately stuck 
 over the side of the boat, to assist in the operation, dipping in 
 a large cargo of water. The copartnership was suddenly dis- 
 solved, and this novel process for capturing a deer in water 
 was postponed to a more convenient season. Charley privately 
 informed us that he meant to try to bag a bear the coming 
 winter. Should he encounter bruin there will be no lack of 
 pluck and resources on the part of the young hunter. Should 
 he be compelled to run he is developing a surprising length 
 of legs, which would give him a decided advantage in the 
 race. 
 
 We looked back upon Big Tupper with a lingering desire 
 for a longer acquaintance, as we shot out of its waters in the
 
 58 FOUEST AND LAKE. 
 
 morning. Raquette river comes down with a sweeping 
 curve almost to its bank, and receiving its waters through a 
 very short outlet, bears them northwardly to the St. Lawrence. 
 Our route lay up the Raquette to the right, a charming row 
 of some ^twelve miles. We passed several parties going in. 
 Tn one boat, containing an oarsman and lady, there was a do- 
 mestic history, whose particulars we did not learn until we 
 reached the Lower Saranac, where the parties resided. There 
 we were informed that the man was a guide eloping with a 
 married woman, bound for love in a shanty somewhere in the 
 woods. She had left a family of six children, the oldest but 
 twelve years. Perhaps the most defensible view of Shake- 
 speare's 
 
 "Frailty, thy name is woman," 
 
 is furnished when there are six abandoned young children to 
 back up the sentiment. As for the husband in this case, the 
 trial was not considered so serious that it could not be as- 
 suaged by a well-filled whisky bottle, and neither party were 
 quoted as models of domestic virtue. The neighbors did not 
 seem to regard the affair as any " great shakes," but if one of 
 our Poughkeepsie reporters had been there to work it up and 
 interview the parties, what a magnificent sensation could have 
 been gotten up over a desolated hearthstone and blighted 
 domestic happiness. 
 
 We reached Daniel's (formerly Sweeney's) carry, and found 
 the old gentleman with his horse and cart ready to take our 
 boat and baggage. The carry is three miles long, over a very 
 good road, which has been worked at considerable expense 
 through the forest. Two dollars and fifty cents, his charge 
 for transportation, is very reasonable. Daniels is a veteran, 
 verging on threescore and ten, and talked gliby of his experi- 
 ence as a soldier for the Union in the recent Civil war. He was 
 at the battle of Fredericksburg, and in active service until the 
 close of the war. At that battle he was prostrated by a dis- 
 mounted gun knocked over by a rebel shot, and somewhat 
 injured, but with this exception escaped harmless. His son
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 59 
 
 resides at the Upper Saranac end of the carry, and during the 
 travel months they find busy and lucrative employment.' 
 
 Crossing the Upper Saranac to Bartlett's carry, which is but 
 a few moments' work, our luggage is again transferred by 
 team to Saranac river, which we pass down, through Round 
 lake and Three Mile river into Lower Saranac, the last of 
 boat travel. About eight miles row and we are at Martin's, 
 where we part with the services of our guide, and soon reach 
 Blood's Hotel. Having stopped there before, we were pre- 
 pared to find good quarters and excellent accommodations. 
 His teams are ready for service to bring parties out, and those 
 who desire it can take the Wilmington Pass Route, through 
 the notch in the mountains, passing John Brown's old home- 
 stead and the place where he lies buried. This ride, for the 
 unsurpassed sublimity of its scenery, is alone worth a trip to 
 this place. 
 
 Dropping down again to the routine of wonted tasks, the 
 recollection of scenes and incidents, refreshing to body and 
 mind, and sweetening accompanying toil, is doubtless in their 
 recapitulation more interesting to the writer than to the reader. 
 
 IN CANADA WATERS. 
 
 RAPIDS DES JOACHIM, CANADA WEST, 
 July 22, 1872. 
 
 We left Sand Point on the steamer Prince Arthur, bound 
 up the lake to Gould's Landing, about twenty miles distant. 
 It was a snug, swift and powerful boat, built for the rough 
 work in which it makes daily trips, extending some fifteen 
 or twenty miles above our landing. Much of the way she had 
 to encounter rafts of logs, now being hurried down with extra 
 force, to reach the market before the summer heat lowers the 
 streams above. One immense raft of logs covered the surface 
 of the lake, and detained us nearly an hour. Scores of single 
 logs, escaped from the boom within which they had been
 
 60 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 chained at the start, were floating on the lake, and over these 
 the steamer plowed its way, a successful case of steamboat 
 corduroy travel. Frequently the pilot's slowing bell warned 
 the engineer that one of these obstructions was in the course 
 of the boat. There was a crowd of lumbermen on board, who 
 had been out of the bush for a spree, and had evidently 
 brought a large portion of it back with them. 
 
 These lumbermen constitute mainly the population of this 
 portion of Canada. Two-thirds of them are of Indian descent, 
 the largest part of them pure blood. They are hired for a 
 term of sixty days, ninety days, or a year, and generally are 
 faithful in service, while in the bush, where no whisky can 
 be got. They fell the pine, the only lumber here sought, a 
 good portion of which is hewed to the square before it is com- 
 mitted to float. The logs are sent down singly, but the hewed 
 lumber is spiked together in what are called "cribs," two 
 layers of massive logs, one crossing the other, and usually 
 committed to the charge of two men, who guide them down 
 the Ottawa river, and over the rapids which give name to this 
 place, to the level and broad expanse of the same river below 
 the long stretch of boiling and whirling water, which forms 
 an impetuous disturbance of this stream of rare interest to the 
 beholder. But to the mode of lumber transit over the rapids 
 I may allude again. 
 
 It will thus be seen that these rough, if not scarcely half- 
 civilized men, have a life which requires great muscular ac- 
 tivity and powers of endurance to meet its daily demands, and 
 that once out of its routine, where they are fed by hard tack 
 and pork as staple supplies, it is perhaps natural, if not wise, 
 that they fly to the extreme of indulgence, and make up when 
 released in uproarious dissipation for perforced abstinence. 
 
 But to return to our steamer. Escaped from the booms and 
 floating logs we had a pleasant run, including a novel experi- 
 ence of a steamboat ride through a considerable stretch of 
 rapids, in the upper part of the lake, where an island divides 
 the waters, leaving a narrow channel of falling waters as the 
 only passage.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 61 
 
 Reaching Gould's Landing we were transferred in two-horse 
 wagons, several of which were ready to receive the large num- 
 ber of passengers, returning to the bush, as forest life is here 
 called. Our land carriage extended about fifteen miles to 
 Muskrat lake. I may have seen a rougher road, but 1 do not 
 now remember where, unless it was a subsequent stretch of 
 land travel of about the same distance that night, which con- 
 nected the steamboat route with Pembroke. 
 
 At Mud lake another steamer, a miniature craft, was in wait- 
 ing, fired up. What with passengers, luggage and freight, it 
 was a novel spectacle at this remove from any thing which 
 looked like ordinary channels of business intercourse. And 
 yet, as opportunity subsequently convinced us, this wild 
 thoroughfare is one of vast extent and immense profit to the 
 commercial association which mainly monopolizes it. It is 
 called the Union Forwarding Company, who transport through 
 this line by land and water connections, reaching beyond this 
 place some twenty miles, and now building boats for further 
 interior points, all the supplies for the settlements and lum- 
 bermen encampments. Sawed lumber for building materials, 
 dry goods of all descriptions, clothing, provisions and forage 
 are delivered here over tuis route in quantities that surprise 
 one new toils demands and resources. Included in this traffic 
 are all the supplies required for the southern wants of the 
 vast fur gathering business of the Hudson Bay Company, 
 which has at this place its lower post. 
 
 The trip up Muskrat lake by moonlight was charming. 
 Without change of position we pass into Mud lake, which is 
 simply a narrowing of this sheet of water, of shoaler capacity. 
 Why these good enough names of the aboriginal lords of 
 these waters should not now give place to prettier titles is a 
 natural inquiry. But romance is at a large discount here, 
 and things will run in their old rut till the change sure to all 
 localities shall come. 
 
 We reached Pembroke about midnight, an old-fashioned 
 place, where the simple tenements built in less active business 
 days, before lumbering became so important a staple give
 
 62 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 aspect to the surroundings. The next morning the little 
 steamer Pembroke took us aboard up the Ottawa river for 
 Des Joachim, which we reached soon after meridian, and 
 found comfortable quarters at McDougal's Hotel, a very quiet, 
 well-conducted house, where every attention is paid to guests. 
 
 Here we met with our correspondent, Mr. Spence, agent at 
 this post for the Hudson Bay Company. It is due to acknowl- 
 edge our indebtedness to him for many favors and courtesies 
 freely rendered, and of much advantage to us. Indeed, 
 throughout our entire Canadian trip we found hospitality and 
 kindly aid on steamer and land, the more agreeable as it was 
 not sought on our part, or paraded on the part of the givers. 
 
 We found splendid pike and pickerel fishing in the bay 
 formed by a turn in the Ottawa just below the rapids; and in 
 a small lake, about two miles from this place, we took an 
 abundance of black bass, some of heavy size. 
 
 We were somewhat disappointed on reaching this place to 
 learn that t\vo Indian guides, who had been engaged for us, 
 had been tempted into the lumbering service, by the high 
 wages which are now paid, and the scarcity of laborers- 
 needed to close up the rafting business of the season, now 
 becoming impeded by the falling of the river. Although 
 about six hundred miles from home, we had intended about 
 another hundred miles' travel into the wilderness, above 
 marts of traffic, in order to reach a more abundant game 
 region. But under these circumstances we are compelled to 
 halt here, and take our chances. We have engaged a couple 
 of Indians long enough to carry our camp equipage and canoe 
 to Trout lake, about five miles distant, and start to-morrow, 
 where I may possibly recount experiences. Till then, adieu. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 TROUT LAKE, July 28. 
 
 A dull, drizzling day, with a cold easterly wind, which 
 strikes our smouldering fire and drives the smoke directly into 
 camp, where we are reclining on our rubber blankets. Is 
 there any thing more contrary than smoke ? You stand by a

 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 63 
 
 canip-fire and it comes puffing up into your face; you shift 
 position, and by some mysterious law of attraction it faces 
 you again wit-bout delay. As I turn over the pages of a work 
 of fiction, which George considerately put into his knapsack 
 for such a contingency of weather, my tears would delight 
 the author as an evidence of power of his pathos. Not will- 
 ing to admit that the smoke which we have endured so 
 long together, by many a camp-fire, kindled by the side of 
 almost every lake in the North Woods can so overcome 
 us, George suggests it is a tearful outgushing of home- 
 sickness. This conclusion I resist with the argument, that 
 this disturbance in genuine form attacks but once, and 
 thereby vaccinates against recurrence. 
 
 Across the portage from Des Joachim, about two miles, over 
 a good road, the communication by steamboat is again resumed, 
 and extends up the Ottawa some twelve or fifteen miles. 
 
 Before leaving Des Joachim (this settlement name is a 
 capital one to practise upon, and the variety of its utterances 
 would amuse the Frenchman who first invented it; the most 
 accepted one is De Swisk-ah) before leaving it, I was about 
 to say, we went up to the head of the rapids to witness the 
 employment of the raftsmen. As I stated in my last, the 
 greater portion of the timber is sent down singly in logs 
 of uniform length, and after passing the rapids it is gathered 
 and confined by an outer series of logs, chained at either end 
 in a continuous circuit. But there is another class of hewed 
 lumber, composed of sticks twenty feet or more in length, 
 fifteen to eighteen inches square, clear and straight, which are 
 pinned together in a double layer, called "cribs." About a 
 dozen logs in each layer make up these cribs. A dam is con- 
 structed across the river above the rapids, having an outlet 
 in the shape of a flume, but a little wider than a crib, and 
 running some distance down to the edge of the boiling waters. 
 The two raftsmen upon a crib start their unwieldy craft by 
 the aid of strips of plank for oars, playing between two 
 pins on the outside timber, and pass slowly toward the 
 flume, or "slide," as it is called. No sooner does it reach
 
 64 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 this inclined flume, than it shoots with great velocity into 
 the whirlpool, and while you look with expectation for a 
 general burst-up, and the raftsmen overboard, their steady, 
 practised eye and hand have kept their craft in a direct course, 
 down like an arrow's flight through a quarter of a mile of 
 bulging and roaring rapids on every side. Sometimes, with 
 the utmost care, but more likely through negligence of duty 
 at the critical moment, the crib swerves from the direct 
 course, and striking a sunken rock flies into disorder, and the 
 raftsmen spring into the water to escape collision with the 
 wreck. Two lives were lost this spring at the slide above 
 from this cause. 
 
 These slides, which are found on all the many streams 
 leading from the vast timber districts of this country, are con- 
 structed and owned by the Provincial government. Our land- 
 lord at Des Joachim holds the office of slide-master from the 
 government, and his duty is to keep account of every crib 
 which passed safely through. Each crib pays a duty of two 
 dollars. The last raft which was formed below the rapids 
 this season was composed of one hundred and twenty-two 
 cribs, which gives some idea of the profit to the government 
 from this source. 
 
 But this is not the only source of revenue from the timber 
 trade. The forests are disposed of at auction, in divisions 
 called "limits," covering a territory of fifty to one hundred 
 miles, and the price for choice limits sometimes runs up to 
 seventy or eighty thousand dollars. This does not include the 
 land the right of which the government retains, and settlers 
 may enter at any time on a limit and occupy such portion as 
 they may desire for farming purposes. This is not unfre- 
 quently the case, as there is a large demand for forage for 
 lumbermen's teams, and oats and hay can be raised in good 
 growth the former selling at present for $1.00 a bushel, 
 and the latter not unfrequently in demand at as high a price 
 as $50 and $60 a ton. 
 
 We started for Trout lake under the guidance of two 
 Indians, whom we were able to coax away from hayfield en-
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 65 
 
 gagetnents by an extra remuneration, aided by drizzling and 
 unsuitable weather for field work. And such a burden as 
 tliey will shoulder is a marvel. A large pack, weighted with 
 provisions, cooking utensils, ammunition and the many 
 et ceteras for camp life, is secured by a long portage strap, 
 made for the purpose, leaving the portion of it in the 
 center, where it has the width of about two inches, to pass 
 over the head and rest against the forehead, the only 
 hold the pack has upon them. Upon this they piled the 
 tent, knapsacks and other loose materials, and then lifted a 
 canoe upon their heads, and bending to the load started up 
 the mountain path, leaving us with our light equipment quick 
 work to keep up. A stretch of five miles through a blind 
 path, matted with underbrush, up one side of a mountain and 
 down the other, promised sharp exercise to city legs. A sense 
 of the strangeness of the situation and dependence upon our 
 leaders kept us for the first part of the tramp in close file. 
 But becoming more accustomed to the tramp, and more self- 
 reliant, we loitered to notice peculiarities of the surroundings. 
 Our self-confidence, however, was sadly misplaced. Hurrying 
 up to regain our guides we found ourselves alone, on one of the 
 blindest portions of the route, with scarcely a sign of a trod- 
 den path. For three-quarters of an hour we floundered in the 
 brush, and only by accident we stumbled upon a direction at 
 last which brought us to the place where they were sitting on 
 a fallen tree, and apparently waiting for us to turn up. We 
 expected at least a lively war whoop of satisfaction at our good 
 fortune in finding ourselves again in the right way. But 
 without a word of inquiry or expression of concern, they re- 
 sumed the inarch, as if their business extended solely to the 
 care of the baggage, and not of its owners. 
 
 Talking of Indians, I am reminded of an incident told us 
 suggestive of days in this country when they were not so 
 harmless neighbors as at present. About twenty years ago, a 
 family by the name of BUTLER constructed a rude home on 
 the Ottawa river, opposite Pembroke. Soon afterward their 
 youngest child, a boy of three years, suddenly disappeared,
 
 66 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 and traces of him were sought iu vaiu. They suspected lie 
 had been stolen by the Indians, and diligent inquiry was made 
 among all the settlements of that race, even as high up as Des 
 Joachim, which was then only a post of the Hudson Bay Com- 
 pany, for traffic with the natives. But years passed iu hopeless 
 research, and at last they gave up inquiry, and dreamed no 
 more of his return. I^ast spring some one who had heard of 
 their loss, mentioned that he had seen a young man at a settle- 
 ment not many miles distant, who had such a history attached to 
 him. The father immediately started to investigate the case, 
 and found a youth now twenty years of age, whom he believed 
 to be his long missed son. The only recollections the latter 
 had of his childhood were that he lived with the Indians un- 
 til about seven years of age, when they sold him to a French 
 half-breed, who used him harshly, and he finally ran away. 
 On their return, the mother, keener in parental perception, 
 recognized distinctive marks upon his person, which the lapse 
 of time had been equally powerless to efface from her memory. 
 The case of another family in the same vicinity was men- 
 tioned, who suffered a like loss, through the same agency. 
 Possessed of considerable means, they spent it all and impov- 
 erished themselves, in vain efforts far and near to regain their 
 lost one. But no tidings of him have been heard. 
 
 On reaching Trout lake the dusk of evening was thickening 
 upon us. Our guides soon pitched the tent, gathered its bed 
 of hemlock branch tips, and roused a cheering fire. Weari- 
 ness had settled into every muscle and joint, as we squatted 
 and watched our dusky companions fill a large frying pan 
 with substantial slices of salt pork. But our stomachs were 
 not ready for so dainty a repast. If, however, we had enter- 
 tained any doubts that it was good, they certainly were not 
 shared by our help. They cleaned the pan of the solids and 
 sopped up the remainder with their bread, and in the fullness 
 of their quiet and unemotional enjoyment it would have been 
 a severe stretch of fancy to find application for " Lo, the poor 
 Indian." The idea occurred, that for Lo's appetite one might 
 be reconciled to be Indian, at least during a meal time.
 
 FOHEST AND LAKE. 67 
 
 When we " tucked in " that night, it was in accordance 
 with the most loyal devotion to the regulations of Congress 
 without distinction of race, color, or nativity. Side by side of 
 a stalwart red-skin six footer I lay the past all forgotten and 
 forgiven. I bore him no grudge because some of his far-off 
 ancestors might have made havoc with the capillary covering 
 of a pilgrim forefather, or have danced around a blazing cir- 
 cuit of fire to which they may have consigned him. I had no 
 apprehensions for my own scalp; I knew that to lift much 
 hair there would puzzle even savage ingenuity. But there 
 was a novelty in the situation not congenial to ready slumber, 
 and it was natural that I took advantage of the light thrown 
 from the camp-fire to turn a side glance at his bronzed feat- 
 ures. But I saw nothing except the perfect picture of repose 
 such as a couple of pounds of fried pork, and a lining of 
 whisky (for the Indian rarely parts with that) might be sup- 
 posed to give. If he did not sleep the sleep of the just, it was 
 none of my business, at that late hour. The sighing of the 
 winds through the pine tops whose motion we could see over- 
 head, and the murmur of the waters of the lake close to our 
 feet, brought sleep defiant of novel bedfellows and a hemlock 
 mattress with twigs as big as your little finger, and very im- 
 pressive on your first introduction to such a couch. 
 
 As mentioned in my introduction, a rainy day confines us to 
 camp, and gives opportunity for these rough pencil sketch- 
 ings. 
 
 Trout lake is a small basin of water, about a mile and a half 
 in length and three-quarters broad. It does not compare in 
 beauty of surroundings with hundreds of like mountain reser- 
 voirs in the North Woods of our State. Indeed I have seen 
 nothing of Canada scenery as yet that bears such comparison. 
 There is a lack in contrast of altitude of mountain and magni- 
 tude and denseness of timber growth. Farther in the wilds 
 of this country it may be that this difference is less apparent. 
 The Matteawan and Des Moiues rivers, above us, I am informed 
 pass through vast heavy timbered territory, and lead to the 
 great lakes of Nepissing and Temishtemang, regions where
 
 68 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 Indian and half-breed hunters find profitable occupation dur- 
 ing the fall and winter season in trapping for the Hudson 
 Bay Company. One thing we have ascertained that the red 
 deer and caribou, the latter slightly different from the former, 
 are few and far between in this portion of the northern for- 
 ests. Their range is below us some fifty or sixty miles. The 
 moose deer, as the large and more solitary species of this race 
 are called, hold possession of the Upper Canada forests, and 
 there seems to be a natural repulsion existing between them. 
 The vast ramifications of the lumber trade, fostered and 
 directly aided as it is by the Canadian government, is a con- 
 stant disturbance of the larger game, and even the moose is 
 rarely seen. 
 
 Our lake stopping-place is appropriately named. Trout can 
 be readily taken in all reasonable abundance, within sight of 
 camp. Our catch ranged from a quarter of a pound to a pound 
 and a half. There are much larger ones in its waters, but 
 July is a portion of the year when they rarely come from deep 
 waters to sport with your hook. Aside from this there is 
 little excitement to daily movements. The only animal foot- 
 prints on its shores which are noticeable are the fresh tracks 
 of bears, but these we have no desire to follow up. Our only 
 companion on the lake is a loon, who is considerably demoral- 
 ized at our interloping upon his quarters, as he rises occasion- 
 ally, wings his way over and around our camp, and then 
 settles back to consider the situation. At night we hear his 
 lone cry, the very voice of solitude, through the intervals, 
 sounding almost human in its utterance. 
 
 And, by the way, George tells in privacy a very good ex- 
 perience in this line, which I must let out. Some two decades 
 ago, on his first visit to the Adirondacks with a companion, 
 both but lads, they heard on the first night, after they had 
 retired to their log shanty, a strange wild cry out in the depths 
 of the darkness, which they supposed to be some lost fellow- 
 being shouting for help. They arose and went a piece into 
 the forest, fired their guns and shouted, but the only response 
 was the same weird, mournful cry, coming from different
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 6U 
 
 points, as the great northern diver changed its quarters. The 
 startling thought then seized them that the forest was haunted, 
 and they hastened back to camp and barricaded its rude door 
 and watched in fitful apprehension till daylight brought its 
 relief. The next day, while boating on the lake, their 
 feathered ghost gave them a daylight strain of its music, and 
 turned a fund of experience in the hobgoblin line into a 
 capacious joke. 
 
 No. III. 
 
 My last was dated from Trout lake, which has ceased to be 
 attractive, from its diminutive limits and general quiet. The 
 capture of trout, exciting as the sport may be for a time, be- 
 comes a monotonous and indifferent employment after a sea- 
 son of success, especially when you have a camp supply. Our 
 guides had agreed to return at a specified time and take out 
 our camp equipments. As we were ready in advance for a 
 change, we filled our knapsacks with what articles we wanted 
 to carry out, packed the rest in the smallest compass and 
 covered them with a canoe, and shouldering our load with 
 gun in hand took the return path. Our preparations had de- 
 layed us until nearly noon of one of the hottest days of the sea- 
 son. The odor of the pine and other forest trees seemed to add 
 to the sultriness of the atmosphere, and weighed as we were 
 we went through a sweating of the first magnitude. The whirr 
 of the partridge was frequently heard, and alighting on trees 
 adjoining our path furnished an easy mark. This game bird 
 is very numerous through this region, and we found no diffi- 
 culty in changing from fish to a partridge broil. The road 
 seemed to have increased in length and ruggedness, but the 
 difference may be accounted for in the extra burden. There 
 was a sense of great relief as we caught sight of the Ottawa 
 rapids, and the home-like quarters of our friend McDougal 
 on the opposite side of the river. 
 
 The next morning we started for McCulloni lake, about a 
 mile distant, where by the kindness of Mr. Tait, a canoe had
 
 70 FOKEST AND LAKE. 
 
 been sent in and placed at our disposal. We were told that it 
 abounded in pickerel and black bass, and we found it so. 
 Our catch was a very fine one, the bass ranging from one to 
 three pounds, and our largest pickerel a good four pounder. 
 On taking home our second day's string, a good jag for a dray 
 cart, we saw by the countenances of the domestics of the 
 house that they considered the fish market overstocked, and 
 that we were trespassing on good nature, and we somewhat 
 reluctantly gave up the business. 
 
 An incident occurred on this lake xvhich will do for a fish 
 story, having the advantage of being as true as it was singular. 
 One of our trolls was struck, and while being hauled in it en- 
 countered an obstruction and parted. This was about ten in 
 the forenoon. On repassing in the same locality some eight 
 hours later, Johnny Welsh, our youthful paddler, stopped 
 the canoe, saying lie thought he saw back a little ways a line 
 wound around the branches of a sunken tree. Going back we 
 saw sure enough the lost line, tangled among limbs about 
 eight feet below the surface. The water of this lake is very 
 clear, and we detected a pickerel captive to the line, and play- 
 ing around him were several large bass, either from sym- 
 pathy with his situation, or making sport with his folly. 
 Johnny gave evidence of ancestral aptitude for wit, by 
 quietly remarking that they were getting ready to hold a wake. 
 After a half an hour's patient unfolding of the coil with the 
 paddle reaching down to his arm pit, George brought it up 
 with a three pound pickerel attached. 
 
 This lake is very picturesquely located ; most of its stretch is 
 bordered with lofty rocky cliffs, of sheer descent, and marked in 
 many places with veins of iron ore. When the lumbering re- 
 sources fail this country, as in a few years they must, it has 
 doubtless mineral treasures which will receive profitable at- 
 tention. To those who enjoy, as we did, a few days' recrea- 
 tion upon its waters with the rod and line, we do not know of a 
 more attractive and satisfactory resort. With good hotels 
 near by, at very moderate charges, the river furnishing also 
 fine sport in the capture of what is known as the "Ottawa
 
 FOKEST AND LAKE. 71 
 
 pike," the angler will have no reason to complain of dull 
 employment. 
 
 On our return trip we reached the city of Ottawa the second 
 evening after leaving Des Joachim. Instead of stopping at 
 Sand Point we kept the steamer Prince Arthur to the lower 
 end of Chats lake, where it connects with a horse railway, of 
 about three miles, the entire distance over trestle work, and 
 said to be the first railway constructed in the Canadas. At 
 the terminus we reach another lake of about thirty miles in 
 this connecting link of travel, where the fine steamer Jesse- 
 ('assels was ready to speed us onward. >"ear the western end 
 of this lake the Ottawa unites with it in a splendid cascade, 
 delighting the eye with its rare beauty. This steamer lands, 
 at its terminus, at Aylmer, quaint and old-fashioned in its 
 general appearance and surroundings, yet withal a very 
 pretty and apparently prosperous village, giving a fine farm- 
 ing outlook. Here we took stage over a good macadamized 
 road to the city of Ottawa, the capital of the Ontario depart- 
 ment, where the Canadian Parliament holds its sessions. 
 
 We. would repeat our expressions of obligation to the cap- 
 tains, clerks and their assistants in charge of the different 
 steamers on the line of the Union Transportation Company in 
 the Western Canada waters. We found them an intelligent, 
 liberal-minded class, taking especial pains to render courte- 
 sies and afford information to visitors from the States. While 
 appreciating highly, as well they may, the advantages which 
 they possess in their government policy, and the light bur- 
 dens which it imposes, they are unreserved iu their acknowl- 
 edgments of obligation to citizens of the States who have 
 entered into business among them, especially in the manage- 
 ment of the lumber trade. They assured us that the present 
 prosperity of Canada was owing in a large measure to the 
 superior knowledge in conducting this trade of such citizens 
 from this side as Eddy & Co., Bronsou, Weston & Co., Hamil- 
 ton Brothers, etc. But while benefiting others these firms 
 have struck a mine of wealth for themselves. We were in 
 formed that the firm of Eddy & Co. have realized a profit
 
 72 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 over all outlays in the lumbering trade this season of over 
 $200,000. This, with the thousand or more men in their employ, 
 and the amount of supplies to keep them steadily at work in 
 the forests, nine months of the year, will afford some idea of 
 the vastness of this business as conducted by one firm. And 
 this explains why, where we expected to find a quiet wilder- 
 ness, we should hear daily the shrill scream of the incoming 
 steamer, laden with men and merchandise, hundreds of miles 
 into the Ottawa wilderness. 
 
 My companion having an engagement which called him in 
 a different direction, I parted with him at Ottawa, after a few 
 hours' survey of its municipal features. Taking the rail for 
 Prescott at 10 i*. M. , I reached the latter place a little after 
 midnight. I was anxious to connect with the morning train 
 from Ogdensburg to avoid detention over Sunday. But the 
 St. Lawrence ferry-boat was laid up for the night. Runners 
 for the hotels at Prescott assured me that I could not cross 
 the river at that hour. In this state of perplexity a boatman 
 came up and offered to put me over. Hotel runners advised 
 me not to go. said he would fleece me, he was not a safe per- 
 son, etc. My desire to cross over led me to accept his offer. 
 With considerable difficulty, and I thought with somewhat 
 unsteady steps, he succeeded in getting my heavy trunk into his 
 rather diminutive boat, and I followed him in, somewhat 
 dubious that I had made a mistake. The river at this point 
 is about a mile and a half in width. Out into the dark we 
 moved, and when about half way over my boatman said his 
 price was three dollars, and he must have his pay, or he 
 wouldn't go further. I replied as I had made no terms t"itlt 
 him I shouldn't object to his price, but would pay him noth- 
 ing until he lauded at Ogdensburg, and if that 'didn't suit 
 him he might return. After growling and threatening for 
 a while, he resumed his oars. By this time he was pretty 
 effectually drunk, and beat about in one direction and an- 
 other, until I was apprehensive of getting more navigation 
 than the $8 would pay for. In the meantime he was en- 
 lightening me on his history. He had been a printer and
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 73 
 
 could " wallop tlie type," as lie expressed it, " ahead of any 
 thing on two legs." Then he took to sailor life on the lakes, 
 and now he was running a night express between Prescott 
 and Ogdensburg, and could throw a boat across quicker than 
 any other man. I observed that he cast frequent glances to- 
 ward the American shore, and at first supposed he was 
 watching to see if any of the revenue officials were on the 
 alert, as our appearance at that hour of the night was sus- 
 picious enough to attract attention. But we might have 
 smuggled over half of Canada, for any interference of Uncle 
 Sam's officials, and just then I should have relished being 
 overhauled for smuggling. It was another difficulty that 
 troubled my boatman. He didn't know his bearings any 
 more than his passenger did. At length we brought up 
 against a wharf, the top of which was some six feet above us, 
 and then came an interesting struggle. For a time it was 
 "nip and tuck," whether the trunk would go u p or accompany 
 my Charon to the bottom. I was in a mood to bet on the lat- 
 ter, and felt as the Irishman did who wagered that his fellow 
 hodman couldn't carry him on his back up a high ladder ; 
 " when he made one false step I was in hopes I had him." 
 But drunken perseverance prevailed, and I was landed in the 
 silence of the night, a quarter of a mile from any hotel. Not 
 a step further would he budge, as he was in a hurry to get 
 back and help some other benighted traveler over. As he 
 stumbled back into his boat, it was a natural suggestion, 
 whether any sincere mourner would stand over his remains, 
 as they must, in the order of events, ere long be picked out 
 of the St. Lawrence. 
 
 Finding my way to the Seymour House, where the colored 
 porter always sleeps with one eye open, I found that a rush 
 of guests had left but one room unoccupied, and I was as- 
 signed to its comfortable quarters. I had accomplished my 
 purpose, and was compensated for the annoyances, as at the 
 close of a month's absence, the eye met familiar objects.
 
 74 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 No. IV. 
 
 EAGANSVILLE, RENFREW COUNTY, ) 
 August 3, 1874. j" 
 
 We reached Armstrong's, the headquarters of this place, 
 and have been making our arrangements for going into camp 
 on Round lake, about forty miles northwest, following up the 
 Bonne Chere river. This river is the outlet of Round lake, 
 and Golden lake, the former about seven miles long, and the 
 latter about the same dimensions. We strike the river about 
 twenty-five miles above Eagansville, by land conveyance, and 
 from thence by canoes, passing through Golden lake. 
 
 These lakes are a popular resort during the fall months. 
 Hunting parties find not only deer in abundance, but also 
 wolves and bears, the latter reported as very numerous this 
 season. Eagausville is a quiet little place, built on both sides 
 of the river, and mainly interested in the lumber trade. 
 
 Canada has doubtless an autumnal season of cool and bracing 
 weather, after frost sets in, but in August, beast, bird and 
 fish yield to the sun's sultry influence, and are not at home 
 to anybody who desires their company. This has been pecu- 
 liarly the case in the present season when a five weeks' drouth 
 lay scorching and shriveling upon land and water. 
 
 Northwest of Eagansville, in Renfrew county, are the two 
 lakes above mentioned, big jewels strung on the comparatively 
 slender thread of Bonne Chere river, which running tbrough 
 them finds its outlet in Chats lake, near Sand Point, and is 
 the channel of an immense lumbering trade. The available 
 timber bordering this water-course has been pretty thoroughly 
 cleared out for many miles above the upper lake. Parties 
 purchasing of the Canadian government the right to lumber 
 for a limited term of years have improved their opportunity, 
 until unproductive pine barrens are the unsightly substitute 
 for a once interlacing foliage of towering forests. What the 
 axe has left has been swept by fire, whose tract is a marked 
 feature of this and other wilderness parts of the Dominion 
 where I have traveled.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. To 
 
 Round lake, where \ve camped, abounds in pickerel and 
 lake trout. The former of large size and are caught in abun- 
 dance. The latter are taken with hook and spear by the 
 Indians by the barrel-full, and laid down by them for winter 
 consumption. Brook trout are rarely found in this lake, as 
 they are not on friendly terms with their bulkier relations of 
 the same family genus. The Madawasca river, which empties 
 into this lake, we were told had a reputation as a trout stream. 
 We followed it one sultry day about three miles to the slides, 
 built for delivering logs over the Falls. A couple of hours 
 fishing here yielded sixteen of good proportions. A second 
 visit was less successful in number, but of larger size. While 
 we were thus engaged, our guide, who had been in the woods 
 shooting wild pigeons, came in and informed us he had seen 
 two bears not far away, and proposed we should make a raid 
 on them, but we did not take impulsively to the offer. It is a 
 sound principle that only one employment can be successfully 
 prosecuted at a time, and of the two we preferred to work a 
 line in the water, even if the fish didn't bite. 
 
 And writing of bears we are reminded of a serio-comic inci- 
 dent which occurred during our brief stay at Round lake. A 
 party from Corning, in this State, came in and camped near us. 
 One of their guides, Totn Armstrong, an old woodman famil- 
 iar with these grounds for a score of years, went out to a 
 beaver meadow early in the afternoon to recover a hatchet he 
 had dropped there. After a long and unsuccessful search he 
 turned to retrace his steps, but had not proceeded far when he 
 heard the growling of a bear, too familiar sound to him to be 
 mistaken in their source, or to excite apprehension. But he 
 was soon made aware that there were a couple of cubs in the 
 programme of exercises, and this put a difficult face on the in- 
 terview. The cubs trotted before, and Mrs. Bear kept close 
 attention behind, and as Tom was destitute of any weapon of 
 any .sort, it was a clear case of discretion being the better 
 part of valor. Up a small tree went Tom, not large enough 
 to allow a side hug of its body to the enraged mother. And 
 here for a moment we leave Tom, with a first-class opportunity
 
 76 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 to view from his elevated post the lake and its surrounding 
 scenery, and an interesting specimen of the animal kingdom 
 in closer survey. 
 
 Our camping ground had increased in population by an ac 
 cession of two young men from Philadelphia, taking a part of 
 their college vacation in the woods, and of the right material 
 for camp life enjoying every thing, and taking to all the 
 little perplexing minutiae of the situation with exemplary 
 philosophy. Toward night, one after another the boats re- 
 turned from the fishing grounds on the lake, and supper as 
 usual became a subject of general interest. The din of prepa- 
 ration was soon heard on all sides, and the shades of even- 
 ing had set in before any note was taken of Tom's prolonged 
 absence. But the inquiry was no sooner started, than surmises 
 were expressed that there was something wrong. To add to 
 the distrust that was creeping over us, one of the party who 
 had remained in the camp during the afternoon, and who was 
 aware of Tom's mission into the woods, recollected that about 
 two hours previous he had heard some one shouting several 
 times, apparently a considerable distance in the woods, but 
 thought it was nothing more than the frolicsome utterance of 
 somebody who wanted to make a noise. This revelation set- 
 tled all doubt on the mystery. One of our guides, in the 
 vigorous and unrestricted language very noticeable among his 
 class, expressed his solemn belief that Tom had been eaten 
 up by bears, and called for recruits to start at once in search 
 of the victim. A J skirmishing party enlisted at once, firing 
 their guns at intervals, and soon a voice of distress came sound- 
 ing back from the depths of the wilderness. It was Tom's 
 voice sure, still living, but confined and in peril. Firearms 
 were then shouldered by the reserves in camp, dogs were 
 loosed and the rescuing party became formidable. Ever and 
 anon there was a pause in the march, and a signal called for, 
 to obtain the direction. 
 
 It was time now for the bear to quake and turn tail. The 
 reinforcement was more than she could encounter, and with 
 a parting growl, giving Tom a full view of her splendid but
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 77 
 
 disappointed set of grinders, she plunged into the thicket with 
 her cubs. The relieving party reached the scene of peril just 
 as Tom, who like Zaccheus had climbed a tree but with less 
 devotional feeling, came down to solid earth again. For three 
 mortal hours he had clung to his slender supports, while bruin 
 had played "the performing bear" with a variety of antics 
 and a savage determination of purpose not visible in the ordi- 
 nary street performances of her kind. The tree bore scoring 
 marks of her fruitless attempts to reach her prisoner. Tom 
 had begun to despair of rescue, and it looked to him as if she 
 was determined to fight it out on that line. He begged us 
 never to mention to a living soul that he had been treed and 
 held captive for three hours by a bear, as he would never hear 
 the last of it. He had lived over twenty years of varied ex- 
 perience in the woods, but he had never before dodged an 
 issue with a bear. 
 
 DOWN THE RAPIDS. 
 
 No. I. 
 
 August 30, 1873. 
 
 In compliance with a friend's request, after a mid-summer's 
 vacation, I will attempt a report of some of the land and water 
 incidents of a new field of adventure, through the waters and 
 forests adjoining the Michagamma and Menominee rivers, the 
 boundary line for a long distance between the States of Michi- 
 gan and Wisconsin. 
 
 By rail to Detroit, from thence directly aboard the staunch 
 and spacious propeller St. Paul, and we reached the point 
 where we expected to meet novelty of surroundings. The 
 steward of our vessel, Mr. H. M. Drake, has long been a 
 favorite of the traveling public on this route. His position 
 was no sinecure, for he had to provide " meat in season," as 
 well as other comforts for an army of guests. On the pre- 
 vious trip, the passengers on the St. Paul, bound to the different 
 points up the lakes, numbered four hundred and fifty, and 
 there were three hundred and fifty on this passage.
 
 78 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 The St. Paul slipped her cables about midnight, and run- 
 ning through St. Glair in the darkness, we lost sight of much 
 attractive scenery. Morning brought us in view of Port 
 Huron, a thrifty and pleasant looking town at the foot of Lake 
 Huron. As we looked off from the steamer we thought of the 
 old subscribers to the " Telegraph," at that place, with a 
 strong desire to stop and shake hands with them. 
 
 " Ten hours going through Huron," said the captain, as we 
 reached the upper end of the lake. Safely and pleasantly our 
 craft glided over it, not always the case in lake navigation ; for 
 the winds often battle fiercely with the steamers. Not many 
 months since a vessel went wildly down into the dark waters 
 of Huron, carrying to a watery grave nearly all on board. 
 
 The upper waters of the lake are exceedingly picturesque, 
 dotted with numerous islands, rivaling in romantic scenery 
 the famous " thousand " of the St. Lawrence. At its head, 
 the notable " Sault Ste. Marie," at the foot of St. Mary's river, 
 breaks into rapids for a long distance, compelling access to 
 the waters of Lake Superior by some other channel. To meet 
 this want a canal has been cut through, and we were lifted 
 by two locks to the requisite level. While waiting this pro- 
 cess we watched a party of Indians plying their nets in the 
 rapids for white fish, which they were very successful in cap- 
 turing. While one at the stern steadied a canoe up against 
 the rushing waters, another at the bow thrust a small net 
 down with the current, and we could see the white treasures 
 clearly defined against the darker shade of the meshes which 
 inclosed them. 
 
 Darkness overtook us soon after entering Lake Superior, an 
 unwelcome interruption, for the shores are lined with objects 
 of great interest to unfamiliar eyes. We were compelled to 
 turn within for occupation, as a relief from the dull and drear 
 employment of standing by a vessel's railing, on the wide 
 waste of waters, listening to the ceaseless monotone of the clash- 
 ing waves. 
 
 But the little world inside was full of peculiar interest. 
 People of different nationalities and tongues were grouped to-
 
 FOKKST AND LAKE. 79 
 
 getlier ; some doubtless seeking their El Dorado in the mining 
 and lumbering districts of this inviting section: some, per- 
 chance, like ourselves, though in a different direction, courting 
 recreation and freedom from wonted toils and business cares, 
 where nature holds her secluded courts with her mountains 
 and waters; and some, simply "going home," perhaps won- 
 dering at the curiosity which could attract others so far. 
 
 But there was one class of humanity, several of whom were 
 on board, standing out sacredly apart in human interest from 
 all the rest, and yet apparently hopeful, life's last venture in- 
 volved in the issue. More to these drooping, feeble ones, 
 gathering their limbs wearily to the burden they bore, were 
 the health-giving promises of Nature's elixir in this reputed 
 Bethesda, than all its abundant gold-turning products could 
 offer to the mere wealth seeker. And one could not avoid the 
 reflection, how trivial and transitory were all the motives ac- 
 tuating the rest, compared with the deep yearnings and hope- 
 ful anticipations of these fellow mortals, longing for freedom 
 again from familiar pain and wasting disease. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 About 9 o'clock Sunday morning the St. Paul rounded into 
 the harbor of Marquette. our destination on Lake Superior. 
 The port was lined with shipping, mostly employed in the 
 transportation of iron ore, of which product this place is a 
 great center. For the delivery of the ore an immense wooden 
 pier extends some distance into the lake. The loaded ore 
 cars run on to the pier and drop their contents through slides 
 or shutes into vessels beneath. Sometimes from thirty to 
 forty boats are waiting outside for their turn at loading. Cars 
 are coming and going continuously from the Republic iron 
 mines to which we shall have occasion to refer more par- 
 ticularly and the clatter of dropping ore is familiar music. 
 
 The national government has constructed a substantial 
 breakwater, running out nearly half a mile, for the protection 
 of shipping. The harbor of Marquette has many points of 
 rare beauty, of which its citizens may well be proud. It
 
 80 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 abounds in good fishing, as a short experience in its waters 
 amply demonstrated, and it is a popular summer resort. 
 About every other person has an abiding faith that he may 
 become the possessor of a valuable mineral deposit, so abund- 
 ant are the developments of iron, copper and silver in this 
 region, fine natural specimens of these ores being exhibited 
 in great variety in business places. 
 
 At Marquette we had the pleasure of meeting our friend 
 and generous assistant in providing the agencies for our 
 intended excursion Mr. B. F. CHILDS previously unknown 
 to us, except through correspondence. My companion, Mr. 
 Slee, had played a photographic joke on his brother artist, 
 having forwarded as his likeness a photograph of Cashier 
 NoRTtt, of this city. With this imposing and venerable pic- 
 ture in hand, Mr. CHILDS had perambulated the spacious 
 corridors of the "North-Western Hotel," scanning the guests 
 who thronged them, looking in vain for the original. It was 
 a North- western joke, duly appreciated and atoned for. Mr. 
 Childs' elegant Art Gallery is one of the popular resorts of 
 that city. His specialty of stereoscopic views, known as 
 ''Gems of Lake Superior," are in great demand, and lake 
 tourists who visit Marquette rarely miss the opportunity to 
 purchase some of these graphic delineations of the great 
 lake, of which he has the most complete collection. With 
 only a single assistant to help manage his small sail boat, he 
 has spent years in cruising along the coasts and into the bays 
 of Lake Superior, to gather subjects for artistic reproduction. 
 A passionate lover of nature, with the eye and hand of an 
 artist true to their vocation, he has early in life won an honor- 
 able record, and his refined social and gentlemanly qualities 
 happily commend him to a large circle of friends. 
 
 Here we had an introduction to our guides. The first in 
 mention, Henry St. Arneuld, is the son of a Frenchman; 
 holding a responsible position in the employ of one of the 
 large companies engaged in the mining developments of the 
 Northwest. His mother is a full blood Chippewa squaw. 
 Henry has all the vivacity, readiness of humor, colloquial
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 81 
 
 volubility and adaptability to circumstances of liis paternal 
 descent. But his Indian mother stamped upon him her native 
 attachment to the wild and unfettered pursuits of her race, 
 and trade or traffic cannot allure him from them. He is in 
 his best element as an exploring agent in the wilderness, or 
 still more congenial as a guide and boatman over its tortuous 
 and rapid rivers. 
 
 Our other guide was a full-blooded Menoniinee Indian, 
 knowing few simple words of English, but ready in his own 
 and the Ohippewa tongue, which we were told are broadly 
 distinctive. Henry on the contrary was well posted in both 
 of his parental tongues, as well as in English, and hence was 
 our interpreter in the medley of utterances we encountered. 
 
 By all rules of expected custom in such cases, our Menoniinee 
 should have had a high old Indian name, with half a dozen 
 links to it, significant of some ferocious achievement. But we 
 were shocked, It was simply Amos Crane ! It was a reminder 
 of Byron's respects to one of his literary cotemporaries, who 
 had trod on his poetical toes: 
 
 "O, AmosCottle, Phoebus, what a name, 
 To fill the sounding trump of future fame! " 
 
 Pr^Not that the question of fame had ever entered the noddle 
 of our Menomiuee. Sitting in mute, quiet position before the 
 camp-fire, a champion consumer of fried pork and other eat- 
 ables, "fame" would have had more charms to him girdled 
 with a tobacco pouch. It was the indignity to Indian romance, 
 in depriving him of his native " barbaric yawp," of a name, 
 which we felt like resenting. The only way we could account 
 for the irrelevancy was, that Amos, filling the position of choir 
 leader of the Indian Mission among his people, had to be re- 
 christened, hence another wrong perpetrated upon "Lolthe 
 poor Indian." But Amos was a magnificent vocalist, with a 
 voice almost as flexible as that of the feathered songsters of 
 his own native wilds. As we sat in the boat and listened to 
 his rendering of ''Happy Days," and "Nearer my God to 
 Thee," in his native tongue, there was a charm in it lingering 
 long in memory.
 
 82 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 No. III. 
 
 From Marquette to Michagamma lake, about twenty miles 
 distant, there is connection by railroad. The village at that 
 lake, as some of our readers may remember, was devastated 
 by fire about two months ago. It was so furious as to drive a 
 portion of the population into the lake, some of whom, in 
 their efforts to escape from one element by seeking another, 
 were drowned. Our intention was to visit that place, but this 
 disaster changed our direction. Our Secretary of the Navy, 
 Mr. Childs, had procured a boat for us at the Republic iron 
 mines, a few miles south of the lake on the river running 
 from it. We accordingly took the cars from Humboldt, a 
 small settlement about nine miles from Marquette. From this 
 point the Mining Company has built a branch road to the ore 
 beds, about nine miles farther west. While waiting on the 
 platform for an ore train, a familiar countenance greeted us, 
 and we were hailed by an old Poughkeepsie acquaintance, 
 Mr. Frank Allen, son of the late Joseph E. Allen, of this city. 
 The meeting was as pleasant as it was unexpected. He left 
 Poughkeepsie a few years ago, with a slender purse but with 
 a good stock of enterprise and perseverance, and began bis 
 business career at the foot of the ladder. He has now a fine 
 store and a post-office commission at Humboldt, and has also 
 just completed and stocked the largest store at Republic. 
 
 Our interview was interrupted by the rumbling of cars, 
 which stopped only long enough to receive us and our bag- 
 gage. As the train was composed only of empty ore cars, we 
 sprang into one of them and took an electric battery nine 
 miles long, bouncing over thick studded inequality of surface, 
 something like Sancho Panza undergoing his blanketing 
 operation. To add to the novelty of the exercise a smart 
 shower began to fall, and the red rust of the ore adhered to 
 us as smoothly as paint to an Indian, so thnt we presented a 
 very uncivilized spectacle as we made our grand entree into 
 Republic. But costume has no regulation standard at the 
 mines, nor iron nuggets any particular beauty of appearance.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 83 
 
 A rough exterior uniformly covers value in the one case, and 
 sometimes among the hardy sons of toil on the other, and the 
 absence of the latest fashions in external apparel furnishes no 
 cause of anxiety. 
 
 Iron is king here. Though we have no data at hand of its 
 relative annual value of yield, compared with that of the beds 
 of copper and silver which are found in and about Lake 
 Superior farther north, we Infer from what we casually 
 learned that it is second to no other mining interest of this 
 remarkable mineral region. Agents are prospecting for iron 
 ore on government lands, and several new and promising 
 mines have been opened within a few months past. The 
 limits of supply would seem to be bounded only by the 
 availability of manual labor and machinery for extracting it, 
 and the carrying means to navigation. 
 
 The lumbering industry has considerable rivalry in com- 
 mercial enterprise. But it is beginning to feel the effects of 
 comparative exhaustion. Forests contiguous to water-courses 
 have been almost denuded of their pine growth, and we saw 
 little on our route to meet our ideal vision in this respect. 
 Upon this topic a writer in a late issue of the Chicago Tribune 
 presents some facts which may interest the reader. He says: 
 
 " The present and ever increasing want of timber demands a 
 general awakening on the subject of tree-growing. New York 
 has lost her maple, walnut and hickory forests. The great 
 Wisconsin forests are in process of rapid destruction. No less 
 than one billion thirty million feet were cut in 1871. Tens 
 of thousands of logs are annually rafted down the Missis- 
 sippi to Iowa, where they are cut into lumber. Young & 
 Co. have a mill at Clinton, Iowa, that runs two hundred 
 saws, and three-fourths of all the lumber they cut goes to 
 Kansas and Nebraska. In a single year one hundred and 
 eighty-five million feet of Wisconsin logs were cut in 
 Iowa. Ten, or, at most, twenty years from now, not only the 
 Wisconsin, but Michigan and Minnesota forests will be swept 
 away. Fifty thousand acres of Wisconsin timber are cut 
 annually to supply the Kansas and Nebraska markets alone.
 
 84 FOKEST AND LAKE. 
 
 There is now left iu the whole of the United States, un- 
 touched, but one tract of fine timber, consisting of about one- 
 half of Washington Territory and one-third of Oregon. It is 
 still a vast scope of land, covered by the magnificent yellow 
 fir, many trees being three hundred feet high. The North- 
 ern Pacific railroad will open up this belt, and when it is 
 gone, the last of the great American forests will have disap- 
 peared. Already exportations from it to China and Japan 
 have commenced, and it cannot last over ten, or at most 
 twenty years. It will be for the next half decade our ship 
 building center, and then where shall we go for our ship- 
 timber?"* 
 
 These are gloomy forebodings, but not worth lying appre- 
 hensively awake about. When our household or student 
 lamps were threatened with an eclipse, on account of the 
 growing scarcity of the big fish which supplied them with oil, 
 gas came iu with an illuminating welcome which in turn is 
 waning before the advent of electricity. A substitute for tim- 
 ber may be more difficult on many accounts. But to say no- 
 thing of coal, its many years successor for heating and culi- 
 nary uses, it is already beginning to become a " back number " 
 in building purposes, where security against fire is most es- 
 sential, and iron is still more conspicuous in shipbuilding. 
 The worry and alarm of to-day is often the ridicule of the 
 next decade. 
 
 ToCapt. Pasco, superintendent of the iron mine at Republic, 
 we are indebted for many courtesies. He took us over the 
 works explaining the different varieties of the ore, and the im- 
 mense machinery by which delivery to the cars is accom- 
 plished with very little manual labor. The bulk of ore ex- 
 tracted is of the magnetic kind, almost pure, and sparkling 
 
 * Twenty years later, under date of Chicago, February 21, 1893, the 
 now Secretary of Agriculture at Washington, J. Sterling Morton, is re- 
 ported as saying: Despite the fact that I should be jubilant over my 
 recent elevation, I am troubled . Every day that passes sees the timber 
 producing land of this country reduced by twenty-five thousand acres. 
 There are but forty million acres of timber left in this country, and 
 at this rate of destruction it will last but a generation.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 85 
 
 with its wealth. Trains of fifty or sixty cars are run tinder a 
 towering elevator, pierced with " shutes," into whose capaci- 
 ous pockets above the ore is dropped by cars descending a 
 railway from the mine, the loaded cars drawing up the empty 
 ones on a parallel railway, by a continuous chain. Each car- 
 load of ore represents a value of $40. The company is 
 now shipping from seven hundred to nine hundred tons per 
 day. About one hundred and fifty men are employed in the 
 mines at remunerating wages. There was marked evidence 
 of system and order throughout. Surrounded as the occupa- 
 tion seems to be with exposure to accident, judicious over- 
 sight has made such visitations of rare occurrence. A com- 
 petent physician and surgeon is employed by the company. 
 He has an extensive charge, and does not have to earn his fee 
 over again by cost of mileage in its collection. 
 
 No. IV. 
 
 Our trip now commences " Dowx THE RAPIDS." While 
 getting ready to leave Republic, a venerable looking Indian ap- 
 proached the shore in a canoe. Its occupants, besides him- 
 self, were two red men and a squaw with an infant in her 
 arms. There was a pack of deer skins in the boat, the trophies 
 of a recent hunt. The canoe was just the craft we wanted, 
 and as his place (for he was a chief among his people) was 
 only a few miles down the river and they could easily reach 
 home, we put Henry into a negotiation for its purchase. 
 After a brief Indian confab, Henry informed us that he was 
 unwilling to part with it on any terms it was a present to him 
 from ' ' the boys " of his tribe, and it wouldn't be right to sell it. 
 We increased the price $5 at different offers, not taking 
 much stock in his alleged scruples, but every proposition was 
 declined, although in a manner which seemed to invite a higher 
 bid. At last we gave Henry an ultimatum at $45. The 
 answer was " make it $50 and you shall have it." The ex- 
 travagant price was enough to end the chaffer, and we parted 
 from old " Eagle Eye," a temporary convert, at least, to the 
 prevalent opinion here that the Indian is a nuisance. 
 8
 
 86 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 Our paddles struck welcome music as we pushed out into 
 the stream. The Michagamma river here stretched out into 
 a spacious bay, upon whose low banks the village of Republic 
 is built. The dark bold mountain of ore rose in close prox- 
 imity in a southern parallel to the line of buildings, its surface 
 offering no lodgment for seed or root. For unnumbered 
 centuries it has stood unknown to treasure-seekers for its 
 commercial value. About two years ago the first business 
 opening was made upon it, and now it is a monthly fortune 
 to its owners. 
 
 The current sent us swiftly along without much aid from 
 the paddle, and soon we had our first experience in running a 
 rapid. For some thirty or forty rods the water was in mad 
 commotion, boiling over the rocks. It did not look interesting, 
 and we felt a strong desire to go ashore. Amos stood in the 
 stern, and in commanding tones shouted his orders to Henry 
 at the bow " chig-a-bee ! chig-a-bee !" or " ah-punt ! ah- 
 puut" as its different steering was required. Over the 
 rapids we were whirled in to the smooth waters below, Amos 
 yelling a grand Indian hulabaloo as we settled into quiet bot- 
 tom again. For a distance of some two hundred and fifty 
 miles rapids frequently intervene and are lively /est to boat- 
 ing. In charge of skillful and experienced guides, as we had, 
 the motion soons becomes a pleasant sensation. Only once 
 did the experience have an unpleasant result. We had entered 
 upon a particularly rough and intricate rapid, and as the 
 boat was lurching upon a submerged rock, Henry thrust his 
 paddle between it and the boat, and the paddle snapped in 
 twain like a pipe-stem, dipping a small cataract, completely 
 sousing the passengers in the first-class cabin. He caught up 
 a spare paddle in time to save us from further unpleasantness, 
 and we put for the first convenient camping ground. 
 
 The night had a strong touch of December, and we have a 
 very distinct recollection of a couple of very blue and moody 
 adventurers, disgusted with all sublunary affairs, standing be- 
 fore a camp-fire, and turning at intervals around, in a drying 
 and shivering process. Henry also took the little episode to
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 87 
 
 heart, and denounced the treacherous paddle. Morning, how- 
 ever, brought all things bright. With the new day we passed 
 into a new atmosphere, and the evening conjurations of ill, 
 and its sources of disquiet, had taken wing with congenial 
 darkness. 
 
 The feathered game, for which this region is noted, soon at- 
 tracted our attention. Wild pigeons liitted over us in great 
 numbers, seeking their feed from the berry bushes which 
 were in full bearing. Partridges were also around us in 
 abundance. Amos, whose eye was as keen and piercing as a 
 hawk's, allowed nothing in the shape of game to escape his 
 attention. The shores of the river furnished hatching ground 
 and feed for wild ducks. Fishing was also lively sport. At 
 favorable places, especially near the inlet of a cold brook, we 
 found trout in abundance. Black bass abound, and can be 
 captured in any desirable quantity. There was no necessity 
 for hunger on the way. 
 
 No. V. 
 
 Soon after leaving our night's camping ground, on the third 
 morning of the downward run, we espied a deer, the first we 
 had seen on the route. He was feeding at the point of a 
 narrow set off from the main channel, about a hundred yards 
 distant. The current carried us swiftly past the opening, and 
 the recognition was apparently mutual, for as we turned back 
 to the point the buck was also intently watching our move- 
 ments. Slee had his rifle in readiness, and there was a 
 moment of expectation as the boat was being brought around 
 to clear the intervening bushes. "We dreamed of all things 
 fair," especially of a fair, juicy venison steak. But just 
 as the position was gained for a fair shot, the buck flung up 
 his caudal appendage defiantly, and we were left in the lurch. 
 " Death had not marked him for his own " or ours either. 
 Such a turn of events always leaves one of the interested 
 parties in an awkward position ; but veterans in many a 
 similar trial are prepared to take it gracefully. Of all the
 
 88 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 " back tracks" in life, strewed with blighted hopes, few tax 
 more heavily the philosophy of cheerful resignation. 
 
 During the remainder of our excursion down the Micha- 
 gamma, which occupied about a week, no deer came in sight. 
 This beautiful animal, like the wild fowl of the northern 
 waters, has also its migrating season, when it travels in herds 
 hundreds of miles south to avoid the severity of winter. Its 
 course is usually along the banks of rivers, and Indian and other 
 hunters select favorable points for encampment, and slaugh- 
 ter them by the hundreds. The racks or scaffolding, for dry- 
 ing and curing the venison, were visible in many places along 
 the route. The time of this exodus is generally the latter 
 part of August and through September. We were about two 
 weeks in advance of this season. A scattered few remain 
 through the year in the forests contiguous to the Menominee 
 river and its tributaries, and from these the Indians manage 
 to get their supplies for food and other domestic uses through 
 the summer as well as winter. j < 
 
 Our last camp on the Michigamrna was at one side of a 
 beautiful fall, a sheet of foaming water about thirty feet over 
 a rocky ledge and spanned by a charming rainbow. *It was ad- 
 mirably picturesque in its thick setting of evergreens. Trout 
 find here congenial haunts in the deep and agitated waters. 
 Below the falls the river spread out in a broad basin, and a 
 few rods farther down it entered at right angles as a tributary 
 of the Menominee river. 
 
 Outstretched on our evergreen mattress, with the unceasing 
 voice of many waters in their wild play, lit by an unclouded 
 moon, there was too much of the suggestive history of its sur- 
 rounding changes in the lapse of centuries, for sleep to be- 
 come a ready visitor. To the lover of wilderness scenery we 
 know of none more charming than is presented in and about 
 the numerous falls of the Michigamma and Menominee rivers, 
 of which there are six worthy of special note within two or 
 three days' boating; one at the junction of the two rivers just 
 named, Big Poquinessey, Little Poquinessey, the Twin Falls 
 (not far apart, and so called from their resemblance to each
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 89 
 
 other) and one other, the gem of the series, whose distinctive 
 name we have forgotten. They vary in descent from twenty 
 to forty feet, carrying a dense volume of water which project- 
 ing rocks churn into whiteness over the entire surface, and 
 presenting so many points of attraction that the vision tires 
 with the overstrain. 
 
 The carries through the forests to the foot of these falls 
 vary from a quarter to two and a half miles; and as our camp 
 equipments and boat were so bulky as to make a return trip 
 necessary, the progress on the long portages were necessarily 
 slow. The end of the first long carry brought us to the foot 
 of one of the falls we have mentioned, and while our guides 
 were after the second load, we pushed out in the boat to the 
 entrance of a spring brook. Although the midday sun was 
 lighting the spot, we took twenty-three trout, varying from a 
 quarter to three-quarters of a pound, in less than an hour. 
 Slee's tackling parted as he was bringing in an old settler, 
 almost in reach of an arm outstretched to take it in out of the 
 wet. 
 
 We were getting anxious to capture a deer, and thus furnish 
 our commissary department with a change. Our guides in- 
 formed us that about half a mile west there were three small 
 lakes connected by narrow channels, which was a favorite 
 hunting ground of the Indians. We carried across to this 
 place and stayed two nights, the only exception to the daily 
 folding of tent and resuming our journey. We saw no signs 
 of deer, but black bass and pickerel fishing was lively. 
 
 Passing a beautiful island which divided the Menominee 
 river midway, Henry gave us an Indian legend of long ago, 
 which is still religiously held among the Menominees. An In- 
 dian maiden was suffering from some indisposition for which 
 the tradition of that people required her temporary seclusion. 
 She was, therefore, left alone in a hut on an island, some dis- 
 tance from the rest of her tribe. But one morning she was 
 sought, and could not be found. Months passed without any 
 sign of the missing maiden. At length a hunting party, re- 
 turning late at night, while passing this island saw the lost
 
 90 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 maiden in vivid reality, standing upon the bank. They ad- 
 dressed her, but received no answer. They landed, but the 
 vision receded, and as they advanced it disappeared. The 
 verity of the legend is unquestioned among her people, who 
 believe that the mute maiden vouchsafes at times her spirit- 
 presence to those who are satisfied with the opportunity of 
 seeing her at a respectful distance and with sealed lips. 
 ;,-; We also learned from the same authority that the Chip- 
 pewas and Menominees have their spirit-mediums, and Henry 
 dilated at length his personal witness of a scene which they 
 call " The Shaking of the Tent." Certain old men among 
 them, respected for their wisdom, are the chosen receptacles 
 of this ''influence." According to his account, one of these 
 mediums, known by an appellation which was too intricate 
 for a short memory to retain, enters alone a tent, the stout 
 center pole of which is fastened deep in the ground, and 
 throwing himself prostrate, commences a wild chant or incan- 
 tation. Soon the pole of the tent begins to vibrate, at first 
 slowly, but increasing in extent and rapidity of motion with an 
 agitation which no mortal arms could produce. Several voices 
 were also heard in the Indian chant. As each additional voice 
 joined in, a loud crash was heard, indicating the arrival of a 
 reinforcement. The chief spirit spokesman seemed to be an 
 old chief, and when asked as to the nature of his revelations, 
 Henry replied, that 'it was advice how to live a good life. 
 Henry said he had often heard of these demonstrations among 
 the Indians, but was utterly sceptical until he was a witness 
 of what he had related. He spoiled the solemnity of his nar- 
 rative, however, by adding, "that the scene affected him so 
 powerfully that he roared with laughter." We confess to 
 have sympathized with him at the fun of the circus. But 
 if mortal vision is to be purged of its obstructions, so as to 
 inlet this new perception of spirit possibilities, we should 
 prefer to take it as an Indian dose rather than through any 
 other agency.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 91 
 
 No. VI. 
 
 The first Indian settlement we reached on the Menominee 
 is at a place called " Bad Water," not from any peculiarity in 
 its taste, but from its general roughness. The Indian name is 
 We-bo-junno, or Narrowing of the Rapids. There were a few 
 log shanties and bark wigwams. We made a morning visit, 
 and as our guides were acquainted with them, and business 
 didn't seem to be driving on their part, we handed around 
 cigars and had a chatty smoke, enjoying the Indian talk, if 
 we didn't understand it. The squaws and pappooses all had a 
 squalid, untidy appearance, and their garments were an odd 
 compromise between savage and civilized styles. We looked 
 in vain for the romantic " Leather-stocking" picture our fancy 
 had painted. There was not enough of Indian scare about 
 them to make the situation iateresting. The fact occurred to 
 us that when we were informed at Marquette that we should 
 .find nobody but Indians on the route, we furtively made 
 inquiry whether white visitors straying into their territory 
 were likely to find hospitality and kindly reception. l We felt 
 the ridiculous nature of the apprehension involved in that 
 inquiry as we sat among these degenerate aborigines. They 
 are evidence, at least in this region, that the traditional red 
 men of old New England times have disappeared from forest, 
 lake and river. Among the tribes living more remote from 
 the pale faces, and possessing pride and strength enough to 
 keep up their race individuality, doubtless there is more of the 
 old Indian stamina left. 
 
 We had another object, beside the exchange of visiting 
 courtesies, in making this call. We had seen from the river 
 a new canoe, and concluded to make another effort for a trade. 
 When the Indian talk with our guides had begun to slacken, 
 probably from exhaustion of all the gossip about the outer 
 world, we told Henry to sound the "big Indian," who, we 
 learned, was the maker and owner of it. The canoe was pro- 
 nounced by our guide to be composed of a perfect piece of 
 bark of the best birch, and as good a craft of the kind as we
 
 92 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 could find on the river. But the old man was not in selling 
 mood, especially as we proposed to throw in our boat as part of 
 the consideration. At this point of the trade a third party ap- 
 peared. An old squaw came out of a wigwam, leaning upon 
 a long stick, with a wrinkled countenance and parchment 
 skin, as if marked by a century, and long black hair loosely 
 flowing a very suggestive " Meg Merriles." She learned 
 from Henry the nature of the discussion. And then com- 
 menced an animated talk with the old Indian, whose squaw 
 she was. We should have mentioned that he wore a large black 
 patch, covering almost his entire nose, and tied around the back 
 of his head. Henry had learned the secret of this fixture, and 
 informed us that the squaw had bit off the lower portion of 
 that facial ornament, in a recent domestic unpleasantness. 
 She evidently was the boss diplomat and favored our proposi- 
 tion. It did not take her long to bring the chief to terms. 
 Curiosity to learn her age, led me to ask the information 
 through our interpreter. I saw from her countenance that 
 she parried the question, with the usual spirit]of her sex when 
 a meddling masculine asks it. She would have been a lively 
 customer for a census-taker. After some bantering between 
 them, she said she did not know how old she was, nor where 
 she was born, curtly adding, that I needn't be so inquisitive 
 about it, as her hair wasn't as gray as mine ! My curiosity 
 suddenly abated. 
 
 The canoe bargain having been settled, the finishing pro- 
 cess on the boat (" pitching the seams," by applying a compo- 
 sition of melted spruce gum and grease to the seams where the 
 bark is cut to shape it, and is then sewed together by a very 
 strong fibrous root) was proceeded with. This work uniformly 
 devolves upon the squaws, and three of them took it in hand, 
 superintended by the old squaw. The Indians squatted 
 around smoking their pipes, and we found ourselves in a 
 novel circle, where the dignity of " the lords of creation " 
 was asserted in the most primitive, aboriginal style. The en- 
 tire population of "Bad Water" gathered at the river side, 
 where the canoe was launched. As we were ready to pro-
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 93 
 
 ceed on our journey, I jocosely suggested to Henry to invite 
 the old squaw to accompany us. To our dismay she assented, 
 and started for the canoe. A broad grin overspread the coun- 
 tenance of her wedded companion, indicating a full assent on 
 his part, but we made an ungallant and hasty retreat from the 
 dilemma, leaving a slighted squaw shaking her fist at us. 
 
 Proceeding down the river a few miles, we camped at a 
 bluff, adjoining one of the falls to which allusion has already 
 been made. While getting things in readiness for the night, 
 Amos caught sight of a deer feeding in the water, about a 
 quarter of a mile below us. Supper was soon despatched, 
 and taking Amos to manage the canoe, Slee went in search of 
 the animal, while Henry remained with me by the camp-fire, 
 calculating the chances. They had been absent but a short 
 time when we heard the report of a gun, and not long after a 
 second discharge. We watched with confidence that the 
 cruise was successful, and in about an hour the canoe was at 
 the camp with a fine large doe. The second shot was made 
 at a large buck, standing out some distance in the stream, but 
 the gathering darkness made the mark uncertain, and he 
 escaped. In the morning our guides rose early to dress the 
 deer, and the sun was not yet in sight, when Henry called 
 me up, saying there were three deer on the beach just below 
 the camp. Going to the edge of the bluff, we beheld as pretty 
 a scene as any hunter could wish. On the broad, sandy mar- 
 gin of the basin below the falls, about twenty rods from us, a 
 buck, doe and fawn were frolicking in high glee. We watched 
 their play for some time, behind our bushy screen. A sug- 
 gestion from Henry to shoot was valiantly resisted, as our 
 supply of venison was now superabundant. A clap of the 
 hands sent them bouncing into the sheltering forest, to be- 
 come the prey of some more needy hunters before a returning 
 summer. We had evidently reached a favorite feeding 
 ground for deer, for between our arrival at evening of that 
 day and ten o'clock next morning, on our way down, we 
 counted eleven, and were fully supplied for the remainder of 
 our sojourn in the woods.
 
 94 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 One kind of fish frequently seen in the Meuominee river we 
 have not yet mentioned. It was the last place where we 
 should expect to find sturgeon, yet they are here in great 
 numbers, swimming lazily up stream in search of spawning 
 ground. All we saw were much smaller than those which 
 inhabit the Hudson river, not exceeding four feet in length. 
 Sturgeon river, which runs into the Menominee some seventy - 
 five miles south of its source, receives its name from this fish, 
 and some distance up this tributary is Sturgeon falls, where 
 natural obstructions bound their further ascent. 
 
 At these falls a lumber company have a large farm, from 
 which it gets the supplies for the laborers and stock employed 
 in winter lumbering. 
 
 At White Rapids we reached another Indian settlement, the 
 Indian name We-bo-baco, derived from the falling of the waters 
 over rocks of a light color, resembling marble. Some atten- 
 tion is here paid by the Indians to cultivation, and small 
 patches of corn and potatoes were in thrifty condition. We 
 paddled up to a log shanty on the bank of the river, where an 
 old Indian was seated, smoking his pipe. He was an uncle of 
 Amos, whom he had not seen for six years. The interview 
 was formal and quiet, their short utterances being broken by 
 repeated whiffs of smoke. One after another the other mem- 
 bers of the family joined the circle as listeners, after a hand- 
 shake of recognition. In the mean time we sat in the canoe 
 in the full pour of a melting midday sun, wishing that the 
 stream of kindred affection might rush into a like broiling flood 
 and exhaust itself. But all things have an end, even an 
 aboriginal reunion of long scattered members. The old man 
 brought out as a present a pair of venerable antlers, to which 
 was added about a peck of cucumbers, raised in his garden. 
 We lightened our cargo by leaving our supplies of venison, 
 flour, pork and other articles, which the nearness to the end 
 of our river run made no longer necessary.
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 95 
 
 Our tent was pitched that night, for the last of the trip, on 
 the banks of these pleasant waters. The morning opened in 
 rare beauty, and as we floated with easy speed down the cur- 
 rent, requiring but little effort of the paddle, the situation af- 
 forded an agreeable sensation of change with rest. Birds, 
 some of beautiful plumage, were at their morning vocation, 
 charming the eye and tuneful to the ear. Amos was in most 
 exuberant mood, glowing over with his sacred mission songs, 
 in which lie was joined by Henry, who strove to make up in 
 his appreciation of melody what he lacked in devotional senti- 
 ment. 
 
 As we have already remarked, the Menominee river is the 
 border line between Michigan and Wisconsin, once the new 
 territory of the " far West," but now furnishing their own in- 
 crease of population to the frontier settlements. They are both 
 still rich in their mineral, and comparatively so in their forest, 
 wealth, and contribute largely in these staples to the supply 
 of middle and eastern markets. As the lumber needed for 
 commercial demand ceases to furnish remunerative occupation, 
 business enterprise will fall back upon the apparently inex- 
 haustible deposits of the different ores, which are as yet com- 
 paratively untouched by mining implements. While there 
 are so many more inviting fields in the West for the hand of 
 agriculture, offering a greater yield to less toil, it must be 
 years before these river banks give evidence of prosperous 
 farmers' homes. Here and there, as we progressed toward 
 the mouth of the river, were seen the humble abodes of set- 
 tlers, who had opened a spot in the wilderness for their house- 
 hold goods, where, if their lives are not filled with the rounded 
 measure of a more abundant social life, at least have their 
 compensation in a more robust existence and greatly diminished 
 sources of social disquiet, meeting Dr. Goldsmith's idea. 
 "If few their joys, their wants are also few." And I was 
 deeply interested in the explanation of the situation, between 
 a couple among whom we happened to find ourselves. The 
 husband, who was originally from Maine, had not overcome 
 his longing to go back to his old social life, and plead as a
 
 96 FOREST AXD LAKE. 
 
 reason for it, that their children, who were numerous around 
 them, would thus have a better opportunity for education, 
 and to become somebody. But the wife had no sympathy for 
 such a change. She said they got along comfortably, raised 
 all they needed and had a surplus to carry out to market, 
 and the children were out of the reach of temptation. Who 
 will say that her philosophy was not the correct one in view 
 of the fact which we subsequently learned, that thirst for 
 alcohol had formerly been her husband's failing, and that 
 here, in the solitude of Nature, that terrible destroyer of 
 home and its happiness found no congenial lodgment? The 
 returning ways to the dram shop were more frightful to her 
 than the dreariness of her wilderness abode, or the deprivation 
 of community comforts and advantages. The highest forms 
 of moral heroism and the noblest examples of self-sacrifice 
 have many a field of daily exercise, unnoted save by the All 
 Seeing Eye. 
 
 Besides these occasional little clearances, whose extent 
 could almost be taken in by a sweep of the eye, we passed 
 two farms on a large scale, one of them stretching along the 
 bank of the river three or four hundred acres in extent, with 
 large and comfortable looking buildings. The crops on it 
 were luxuriant, especially the oats, which in stalk and head- 
 ing I have rarely seen equaled. We were obliged to cross a 
 portion of it to carry boat and baggage round a rocky shoal 
 in the river. A large turnip field, well fruited, as Col. 
 Sellers might say, was trodden thickly with the fresh tracks 
 of feeding deer, which had found the presence of civilized 
 life attractive at least to one sense. 
 
 The stretch of wilderness and water, through which our 
 excursion of about four hundred miles had led us, has unques- 
 tionably superior attractions for the gun and rod over the 
 North Woods of our own State; yet it is less trod by the feet 
 of hunter and angler. We met only with a solitary couple 
 on our long route, and they were going only a short distance. 
 But in the feature of scenery it is out of sight in the com- 
 parison. It has nothing of the grandeur of mountain ranges,
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 97 
 
 or the frequent relief of bubbling icy springs, which at almost 
 every depression in the earth's surface mark the Adirondack 
 regions, and which border by the one and feed with the other, 
 its beautiful and uuequaled lakes. In these essentials of 
 perfection to wilderness scenery it is tame and deficient. 
 
 No. VIII. 
 
 As we approached within a few miles of the outlet of the 
 river, we were struck by the continuous stretch of bare and 
 blackened trunks of trees, extending for miles on both sides 
 of the track of the great Peshtigo fire two years ago. One 
 hastily constructed tenement, built since the disaster, had its 
 family reminder of the fire, as we learned soon after. About 
 three miles above Menominee city we found the river closely 
 blocked with logs, which compelled us to take our canoe 
 and baggage ashore and find a team conveyance. Leaving 
 our guides, I started with Slee to foot it to the city to pro- 
 cure aid. We had not proceeded far when we were overtaken 
 by a man and his wife in a small one-horse wagon, loaded for 
 market. He insisted that there was room enough for us, and 
 kindly assured us that if his wagon had been a little larger 
 he would have taken in boat and baggage also. Getting into 
 conversation, we learned that his name was Joseph Begieu, 
 and he informed us that he lived in the house we have just 
 referred to, and that on the morning of the fire he started 
 early with his two little boys and a daughter to go to Me- 
 nominee city. On his return he had got within a mile of 
 the river when the air became filled with smoke, and he 
 heard the roaring of the approaching fire He hurried his 
 horse, but the flames were soon sweeping all around him, and 
 he was obliged to abandon his wagon and pick his way along 
 in less exposed places. The dense smoke was suffocating, 
 and the rush of flames so near that their clothes at times 
 caught fire. He encouraged his children in efforts to reach 
 the river, and when the heat and smoke were at times so in- 
 tense that they felt like giving up to the situation, he dug 
 holes in the sand with his hands, and told them to lie down
 
 98 FOREST AND LAKE. 
 
 and place their mouths over the opening. As the rush of the 
 hot current changed to another point they rose and struggled 
 on again. In this condition, scorched and nearly strangled, 
 they finally reached the river and plunged into the protecting 
 waters. The fire was burning fiercely in the direction of his 
 home, and he expected to find his wife and remaining children 
 victims to it. 
 
 His wife then told her thrilling story. She was alone with 
 two little children, one a sick bahy. She was startled by the 
 roar of the fire, and in her anxiety for her helpless charge be- 
 came almost paralyzed. Her hope was that the fire might 
 pass to one side, and she watched in agony of apprehension 
 as it reached out in every direction. Fortunately she was not 
 far from the river, and rousing herself to the necessity of the 
 situation, she caught up her sick child and leading the other, 
 they also found refuge in the water, where not long after she 
 was joined by her husband and children who had come up the 
 river in a boat. In the overwhelming joy of such a deliverance 
 and reunion, it concerned them lightly at the time, that all 
 their worldly effects were in smoking ruins. Truth is indeed 
 often stranger than fiction. It seems like a wild, wonderful 
 story, but I have related their account of it, and had no reason 
 to question their veracity. 
 
 At Menominee we found comfortable quarters at the public 
 house of Bush Brothers. Mr. Bush despatched a team for 
 our canoe and effects, and the snug little craft was put in the 
 hands of the express company for home transportation. 
 
 Menominee is a smart growing little sawdust city. It 
 abounds in saw-mills, and even the streets are paved with 
 sawdust. On the Wisconsin side of the river, directly op- 
 posite, extending backward from Green Bay, is Marionette, 
 a thrifty town of about the same size. 
 
 A number of Indians get some sort of a livelihood here, just 
 at this season, by picking berries for market. We saw a 
 company of them riding on their small ponies, and dressed in 
 tuU Indian costume, more like the genuine article than any 
 we had seen. One of them, who dropped into the hotel for a
 
 FOREST AND LAKE. 99 
 
 few moments, was a study for an artist. He had leggins and 
 moccasins, and a loose outer garment of dressed deerskin. 
 With the exception of his headgear this completed his cos- 
 tume. He was over six feet in height, and carried a remark- 
 ably long rifle. As he stepped off in long strides, trailing his 
 rifle, he was more like a dusky Micawber, content with his 
 situation, and ready for whatever might turn up, than a 
 Logan mourning the departure of his kindred and the faded 
 glories of his race. 
 
 We are sorry in closing our veritable narrative to be com- 
 pelled to add, that the high appreciation we had held of the 
 steadiness of Amos against bibulous temptation was doomed 
 to a temporary eclipse. His red-skin brethren at the end of 
 the route seduced him into a spiritual pow-wow, and Amos 
 came out of it " tighter than a brick." A contemporaneous 
 writer recently summed up the general failing of the Indian 
 in this wise : 
 
 "Historians the wide world over will be shocked to learn, 
 that the Chabbaquidule tribe of Indians are extinct, the last 
 representative thereof having slept the sleep of death at 
 Martha's Vineyard last week. His virtuous memory is em- 
 balmed by a local chronicle in the statement, that he was a 
 professor of religion, a regular attendant upon camp meeting 
 services, and an inveterate drunkard." 
 
 From our knowledge of the entire abstinence of Amos from 
 any thing intoxicating while in our employ, and from the 
 testimony of others, we had reason to believe that this was a 
 very rare occurrence in his case. He came out of his debauch 
 penitent and poorer. We had purchased for our guides their 
 railroad tickets homeward, in addition to their $3 a day each 
 from the time of leaving Marquette. We parted from them 
 with kindly interest, appreciating their skill and faithfulness, 
 and turned in a different direction homeward. 
 
 And so winds up our remembrances of adventure and sight- 
 seeing DOWN THE RAPIDS of the Michagamma and Menorni- 
 nee rivers.
 
 BIBLE LESSONS. 
 
 Father Forgive Them. LUKE, xxni, 34. 
 
 With meek submission He endured the base 
 
 Indignities of His unfeeling foes; 
 Though doomed each moment to some new disgrace, 
 
 No malediction from His breast arose 
 No withering curse upon the heads of those, 
 
 Who were pursuing with vindictive scorn 
 Their persecution, even to life's close; 
 
 With lofty resignation all was borne, 
 And placid, fervent as a mother's prayers, 
 
 When for her offspring heavenly gifts they sue, 
 His dying voice a message upward bears 
 
 " Forgive them for they know not what they do." 
 
 On heathen pages we shall search in vain 
 
 For aught that gives a sentiment like this 
 Forgiveness love triumphing over pain, 
 
 The authors of His sufferings to bless 
 Sweet mercy even in the hour of death; 
 
 Its spirit is divine it breathes of heaven 
 Tis the peculiar essence of that faith 
 
 To which His life a sacrifice was given. 
 He who will bring unto this noble theme 
 
 A heart inquiring for the heavenly road, 
 Must with the Roman officer exclaim 
 
 Convinced " This truly was the Son of God." 
 Salem, Mass., 1834.
 
 BIBLE LESSONS. 101 
 
 The Cedars of Lebanon. 
 
 "The books, prophetic, poetic and historical, of the Old Testament 
 abound in references to Lebanon, which supplied the timber for Solo- 
 mon's magnificent temple and palaces. . . . The famous B'Sherrah 
 grove is three-quarters of a mile in circumference, and contains about 
 four hundred trees. Perhaps a dozen of these are very old; the largest, 
 sixty-three feet In girth, is thought to have attained the age of two 
 thousand years." Encyclopedia. 
 
 Majestic inonarchs of the forest kind, 
 
 Thy regal crests for ages tbou bast reared, 
 In bold defiance to tbe mountain wind; 
 
 Thy realm-o'ershadowing branches, still unseared 
 By the steru ravager of earthly things, 
 
 And mocking the decay widespread around, 
 As when o'er Israel reigned her native kings, 
 
 Yet to the whisperings of the breeze resound. 
 
 The lawless Arab deems thou art divine, 
 
 And climbs the rocky heights of Lebanon, 
 To offer to thee on thy mountain shrine 
 
 The homage which belongs to God alone. 
 Thy dateless birth uplifts the soul with awe, 
 
 And stirs those deep emotions of the heart, 
 Which nearer to their God His creatures draw, 
 
 And to their minds a holy glow impart. 
 
 From off the heritage o'erlooked by thee, 
 
 Successive generations have been swept 
 Contending armies, with a sanguine sea, 
 
 The plains outspreading far below have steeped, 
 Since first thy forms into existence sprang; 
 
 And they, the chosen messengers of God 
 To Israel the sacred seers who sang 
 
 Of thee long since have mouldered 'neath the sod. 
 
 Thou hast beheld Judea's glory wane, 
 The sceptre wrenched from her enfeebled hands, 
 
 And seest the curse-bound few who still remain, 
 Submissive vassals in their fathers' lands.
 
 1-02 BIBLE LESSONS. 
 
 Where the Shecliiuali once resplendent shone, 
 
 The lamps of Islamism brightly glow, 
 And of her boasted Temple, not a stone 
 
 Remains, her famed magnificence to show. 
 But thou art still the same; of all that lived, 
 
 When first on earth appeared the heavenly LIGHT, 
 EMMANUEL, thou only hast survived 
 
 To see its beams dispelling error's night. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 The Doomed City. 
 
 MARK, xm, 19. For in those (lays shall be affliction, such an was not 
 from the beginning of the creation, tuhich God created unto this time, 
 neither shall be. 
 
 The sentence had gone forth, and now had come 
 
 The time, when nothing earthly could withhold 
 The heaven-forsaken city, from the doom 
 
 By Him, whose word can never fail, foretold 
 When desolation's tide was to be rolled 
 
 O'er the devoted Queen of Palestine, 
 And War its crimson banners foul unfold, 
 
 Till Death should, over-gorged, his work resign. 
 
 Around the instruments of Providence 
 
 Were leagued the legions of all-conquering Rome, 
 Hemming their victims in a space from whence 
 
 Escape was none their only chance the tomb, 
 Or to be borne as captives, at the car 
 
 Of victory, subjected to the mock 
 Of their rude captors in some land afar 
 
 From their loved home, to wear a bondsman's yoke. 
 
 Within the breasts of the besotted race 
 Were rife with envy, discord, tumult, hate, 
 
 The busy workers of their own disgrace, 
 And rushing headlong on their willful fate;
 
 BIBLE LESSONS. 108 
 
 The ghastly form of Famine stalked abroad, 
 And laid its withering spell on every heart, 
 
 Till Nature was outraged, and hunger gnawed, 
 With fiendish rage, the dearest ties apart. 
 
 Above terrific, fearful, many a sign 
 
 Mysterious and portentous o'er them glared 
 Emblems of boundless slaughter wrath divine, 
 
 To those who had its retributions dared. 
 Unheeded were these tokens; still they fought, 
 
 Insatiate thirsting for each other's blood, 
 Increasing crime, regardless of the thought 
 
 They soon must meet the presence of their God. 
 
 She fell at last. The Roman drove the plough 
 
 O'er the foundations of the blackened scene, 
 And leaving nought but Nature's hand to show 
 
 Where once Jerusalem, the proud, had been. 
 His WORD is TRUTH. All things cooperate 
 
 To accomplish whatsoever He has willed, 
 And madness 'tis to doubt or soon or late 
 
 That all which He declares will be fulfilled. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 " Our Father Who Art in Heaven." 
 1 PETER, 5-7. Casting all your care upon Him, for Hecareth for you, 
 
 He careth for us ! then our faith 
 Should ever keep us from despair; 
 
 No doubts should trouble one who hath 
 The shield of the Almighty's care. 
 
 He careth for us ! welcome then, 
 
 Our Father, be Thy discipline, 
 Forbid that we should e'er complain, 
 
 And keep, oh keep, our souls from sin.
 
 104 BIBLE LESSONS. 
 
 He careth for us ! all things move 
 Iii joyful concert for the good 
 
 Of those who manifest their love, 
 By lives of holiness, to God. 
 
 He careth for us ! and when Death 
 
 Shall lay on us its icy hand, 
 He'll crown with an immortal wreath 
 
 His children, in a heavenly land. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 "Fear Not." 
 
 GENESIS, XXT, 16, 17. And she went and sat her down over against him 
 a good way off for she said. Let me not see the death of the child. And 
 she sat over against him, and lifted up her voice and wept. And God 
 heard the voice of the lad ; and the angel of the Lord called to Hagar out 
 of heaven, and said unto her, fear not. 
 
 Beneath the shrubs she laid her child 
 
 And turned her from his suffering glance, 
 
 She could not bear th' expression wild 
 That settled on his countenance. 
 
 She wept the tears of agony 
 From the outcast handmaiden burst, 
 
 To think her Ishmael must die 
 By the slow-torturing of thirst. 
 
 She wept, that she must bid adieu 
 
 Forever to her only son, 
 And henceforth sorrowing pursue 
 
 Her weary pilgrimage alone. 
 
 But hark! a heavenly voice conveys 
 
 Delightful tidings to her ear 
 " What aileth thee? fear not," it says, 
 Thv God is with thee even here.
 
 BIBLE LESSONS. 105 
 
 The shade hath vanished from her eyes; 
 
 The crysfal fount which uovv appears, 
 A life-restoring aid supplies 
 
 She weeps, but these are joyful tears. 
 
 So, oft, when life's dark scenes amid, 
 
 We sink o'erwhelmed with deep distress 
 
 And grieve, as lonely Hagar did, 
 While in Beersheba's wilderness 
 
 We too an angel's voice may hear, 
 
 Which all anxieties dispel 
 Entreating us to banish fear, 
 
 And showing us a " living well." 
 Salem, Mass., 1884. , 
 
 Peter's Trial Hour. 
 LUKE, xxii, 61. And the Lord turned and looked upon Peter. 
 
 He looks on his abandoned Lord, 
 
 Who stands with shackled limb, 
 And though His lips breathe not a word, 
 
 His eyes are fixed on him; 
 It is enough that searching gaze 
 
 Hath thrilled through Peter's frame. 
 And the tear of bitterness betrays 
 
 The boaster's grief and shame. 
 
 So, many a virtuous decree 
 
 Our hearts to action move, 
 But in the hour of trial, we, 
 
 Like Peter, faithless prove. 
 Yet still the same omniscient eyes 
 
 On our transgressions rest, 
 And well who thus his Lord denies 
 
 If tears his grief attest. 
 Salem, Mass., 1334.
 
 106 BIBLE LESSONS. 
 
 Wrestling with the Angel. 
 
 " Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, 
 Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep." Milton . 
 
 GENESIS, xxxn, 34-31. And Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a 
 man with him until the breaking of the day. And when he saw he pre- 
 vailed not, he touched the hollow of his thigh, and the hollow of 
 Jacob's thigh was out of joint as he wrestled with him . And he said, let 
 me go, for the day breaketh. And he said, I will not let thee go, except 
 thou bless me. And he said unto him. What is thy name ? And he said, 
 Jacob. And he said, thy name shall be called no more Jacob, but Israel: 
 for as a prince thou hast power with God and with men, and hast pre- 
 vailed. And Jacob asked him, and said, Tell me, I pray thee, thy name: 
 and he said, Wherefore is it that thou dost ask after my tiame ? And 
 he blessed him there. 
 
 Night closed upon the scene at Mahanaim. 
 A suppliant, Jacob sent his mission forth, 
 Armed heavily with the ministry of peace: 
 The thronging memories of the past replaced 
 The parting forms of kindred and of friends, 
 And glorious promises to him and his, 
 Of large possessions and a numerous seed, 
 Could scarce suppress his fears of Esau's ire. 
 
 Jacoh remained alone with troubled thoughts, 
 As rolled the brook 'twixt him and all of earth. 
 But lo ! a shining form the silence breaks, 
 Hailed by the patriarch as a pledge of good, 
 With whom he wrestled till the break of day; 
 The blessing, seen by faith, he earnest sought, 
 Nor yielded, though the angel, for release, 
 His sinew shrank with touch of mighty power. 
 And left him halting on a weakened thigh. 
 
 Oh, splendid gift by perseverance won ! 
 Not Jacob now, but Israel, pregnant name 
 Of power prevailing both with God and man. 
 " Thy name," says Jacob. ' ' Wherefore that to thee ? " 
 He blessed him there; and Esau's kindly face 
 Came with unselfish and forgiving grace.
 
 BIBLE LESSONS. 
 
 So may we wrestle for divine support, 
 When in the lonely walks of life we wait, 
 And apprehensions of some coming ill 
 Lead us to feel how frail and weak we are; 
 So see in all our Father's trial scenes, 
 A watching angel urging us to zeal, 
 That we may win the needed gift of grace, 
 And turn the darkness to celestial light. 
 Nor idly questioning the helper's name, 
 While his credentials in the gift we see. 
 So like our Master, when the Tempter's power 
 He foiled by sure reliance on God's WORD, 
 Our work well done, a blessing like shall come 
 And angel strength be ministered to us. 
 Poughkeepaie, Sept. 6, 1857. 
 
 The Soul's Rest. 
 
 MATTHEW, xi, 28-30. Come unto me. all ye that labor, and are heavy- 
 laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me: 
 for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls. 
 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. 
 
 Ho ! weary one, estranged from peace, 
 
 By sin's dark burden sadly pressed, 
 Joy ! for a Saviour brings release, 
 
 And from thy sorrows flee for rest. 
 
 Take up His yoke and learn of Him 
 
 The beauty of a holy life, 
 Whose glorious crown will ne'er grow dim 
 
 Victor o'er elemental strife. 
 
 Lowly and meek, He stooped to earth 
 
 And took our human nature on, 
 And, like for Jew and Gentile birth, 
 
 Rest for the soul sublimely won.
 
 108 BIBLE LKSSONS. 
 
 Easy His yoke, His burden light, 
 He doth a royal sceptre wield, 
 
 Where love and majesty unite, 
 And solace in all trials yield. 
 
 " Eest for the soul ! " ye stricken child 
 
 Of mortal mould, when faint ye tread, 
 Where roll life billows dark and wild, 
 Lift to this Friend thy drooping head. 
 
 Tried by all woes of mortal lot, 
 A man of sorrows and of grief, 
 
 He knows our weaknesses, and what 
 Is best designed to bring relief. 
 
 Nor only through the conflicts here, 
 Are Christian soldiers richly blest, 
 
 Beyond the con fine's of this sphere, 
 For them remains eternal rest. 
 
 Rest, such as blissful angels feel, 
 
 While vision-tranced with folded wing, 
 Their golden harps sweet cadence tell 
 
 Of Him, from whom all blessings spring. 
 Poughkeepsie, Sept. 13, 1857. 
 
 The Numbering of Israel. 
 
 2 SAMUEL, xxiv-2. For the king said to Joab, the captain of the host 
 which was with him, go now through all the tribes of Israel, from Dan 
 even to Beersheba, and number ye the people, that I may know the num- 
 ber of the people . 
 
 Go count the people I would know 
 
 Their number said the monarch proud 
 
 Fling David's banner to the foe, 
 Exultant o'er a mighty crowd.
 
 BIBLE LESSONS. 109 
 
 From Dan to Beersheba then sped, 
 
 Obedient to the royal word, 
 Captains of host, by Joab led, 
 
 And numbered those who drew the sword. 
 
 Ah! subtle tempter, how thy plot 
 
 Hath stirred the Hebrew monarch's pride 
 
 Jehovah's outstretched arm forgot, 
 In numbers now doth he confide. 
 
 Oh! weak distrust of sovereign care, 
 
 Oh! self-reliant Hebrew king, 
 Thy numbers soon the grave shall share, 
 
 Thy pride become a poisoned sting. 
 
 " What choose ye ? " was the voice of God, 
 
 " Into Thy hand oh let us fall" 
 Then passed the pestilential rod, 
 
 And echoed loud Death's harvest call. 
 
 In vain are walls and bulwarks high, 
 
 An arm of flesh how blindly vain, 
 Salvation only draweth nigh 
 
 To him who owns Jehovah's reign. 
 
 * In Thee is everlasting strength, 
 
 Nor ever faileth Thy decree, 
 In perfect peace Thou'lt keep at length 
 The way of him who rests on Thee. 
 
 Worship with Thee acceptance finds, 
 Though few the suppliant knee may bend, 
 
 And serve Thy praise obedient minds, 
 Though no proud temple walls ascend. 
 
 Trust in the Lord, the moral is, 
 
 Whatever may betide us here 
 Earth and its fulness all are His, 
 
 Nor ever should his servants fear. 
 Poughkeepsie, Oct. 4, 1857. , 
 10
 
 110 BIBLE LESSONS. 
 
 The Angel of the Sepulchre. 
 
 MARK, xvi, 5-6. And entering into the sepulchre, they saw a young 
 man sitting oil the right side, clothed in a long white garment ; and they 
 were affrighted. And he saith unto them, be not affrighted ; ye seek 
 Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified ; He is risen, He is not here ; be- 
 hold the place where they laid Him . 
 
 The risen suu on First Day morn 
 
 Shone o'er the Saviour's garden tomb, 
 
 As came the Marys, sad and lorn, 
 Bearing sweet spices and perfume. 
 
 With anxious hearts, the Lord they loved 
 They sought, and found at early hour 
 
 The stone was from the doorway moved, 
 Though all untouched by mortal power. 
 
 They entered now the rock-hewn way 
 
 Why do their pulses wildly stir! 
 There sat in glorious array, 
 
 The angel of the sepulchre. 
 
 No lifeless form is outstretched there, 
 
 To need the Marys' kind intent 
 Triumphant now they only share 
 The tomb with angel visitant. 
 
 
 " Be not afraid ! " Oh ! blessed word, 
 
 From lips of white-robed messenger 
 Be not afraid, ye seek the Lord, 
 Behold ! He is no longer here. 
 
 Bear to His friends the gladsome news, 
 That death had yielded up his might, 
 
 And Christ, rejected of the Jews, 
 Brings life, immortal life, to light ! 
 
 The cross and tomb, their work now done, 
 " The heel has bruised the serpent's head," 
 
 More than was lost Emmanuel won, 
 By angel voices heralded.
 
 BIIU,K LESSONS. Ill 
 
 Thus when life's trial scenes appear, 
 
 Lest from the truth our footsteps err, 
 By faith's clear utterance may we hear 
 
 The angel of the sepulchre. 
 Poughkeepsie, Oct. 11, 1857. 
 
 Prayer. 
 
 The prayer of faith to the burdened breast 
 
 Affords a calm and sweet relief, 
 For its heavenly influence lulls to rest 
 
 The vain desires whose end is grief. 
 
 How great the privilege to raise 
 
 The aspirations of the soul, 
 And offer up the heartfelt praise 
 
 To power and love that life control. 
 
 The bright, alluring scenes of life 
 
 While thus engaged dim not the sight, 
 
 Nor worldly din, nor passion's strife, 
 Appear to cloud the heavenly light. 
 
 Its mild, subduing influence sends 
 
 A holy thrill into the breast, 
 Its soothing balm a healing lends 
 
 To cure the soul by sin oppressed. 
 
 And dear is such commune to those 
 Who pine beneath misfortune's load, 
 
 For far above all earthly woes 
 It lifts the heart in peace to God. 
 
 There is in prayer a blessed spell 
 For our relief most richly given; 
 
 Its hopes are from a living well 
 
 Whose fountain-source is found in heaven. 
 Mass., 1834.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 To a Red Breast Songster. 
 
 T hear at dawn thy caroling, 
 Thou sweetest songster of the spring, 
 As up to heaven thy morning prayer 
 Is borne upon the silent air. 
 
 The varying cadence of thy song 
 With tuneful glee thou dost prolong, 
 Dispensing from thy perch on high 
 A spirit-stirring minstrelsy. 
 
 Thou sendest out in each wild note 
 Of gratitude that swells thy throat, 
 Devotion's melody; a lay 
 Calling the soul from earth away. 
 
 So constantly, at morn and even, 
 Thou warblest forth the " airs of heaven, 
 Thou seem'st commissioned from the skies 
 To teach us where our hearts should rise. 
 
 And though I cannot lift a strain, 
 As pure as thine, from earthly stain, 
 My voice I'd learn from thee to raise, 
 At morn and eve, my God to praise. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 113 
 
 Leaving Home. 
 
 ; First partings form a lesson hard to learn." L. E. L. 
 
 The day, preparing for its flight, 
 
 Had robed itself in twilight's guise, 
 (Bringing that hour of sober light 
 
 When thought takes wing and backward flies, 
 And we trace through each departed year 
 
 The various links in being's chain, 
 Dwelling on those to remembrance dear, 
 
 And living their pleasures o'er again,) 
 When alone walked forth a youthful bride, 
 
 To take a lingering, parting gaze 
 On scenes with memory close allied, 
 
 The home of many halcyon days. 
 
 The heart will wind itself around 
 
 The objects of its watchfulness 
 And keenly feels the sad rebound 
 
 Of broken links and lost caress. 
 Each shrub and flower that she had reared 
 
 With much of anxious tender care, 
 Ne'er had so fragrantly appeared 
 
 As at that hour, nor bloomed so fair. 
 Through bowers endeared by time she roved, 
 
 Her heart with sadness deeply fraught 
 At every turn some thing long loved 
 
 Was linked with retrospective thought. 
 
 The grove-crowned hill the winding brook 
 The feathery brood that warbled nigh 
 
 Seemed each to claim a parting look, 
 Seemed each to ask a parting sigh ; 
 
 And when from earth her eyes would roam, 
 To sky of clear cerulean hue,
 
 114 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 She thought that o'er another home 
 It could not wear so deep a hlue. 
 
 Not all the hopes that mutual love 
 Can waken in the youthful breast, 
 
 Could with their magic spell remove 
 The weight that on her spirits pressed. 
 
 A harder task was she to learn, 
 
 As morning opened on the scene; 
 She was henceforth from those to turn, 
 
 On whom she had been wont to lean 
 For all affection could confer 
 
 For guidance, counsel, sympathy 
 From those who had watched over her 
 
 With love, almost idolatry ; 
 To break time-hallowed intimacies 
 
 For distant lands her home to leave, 
 Where there were none but- stranger faces 
 
 A smile of welcoming to give. 
 
 We cannot form an earthly tie 
 
 That calls not for some sacrifice ; 
 How oft in love's bright hour a sigh 
 
 Of fond regret will softly rise, 
 To chill the warmth of its caress 
 
 The thought of all we must forsake 
 Obscuring half its loveliness, 
 
 And causing us from bliss to wake. 
 
 But time will dry the parting tear, 
 
 And blot its memory from the mind ; 
 Like all that come 'twill disappear, 
 
 And leave no lasting trace behind. 
 E'en life's last parting fails to leave 
 
 A cureless wound upon the heart ; 
 Time brings a balm to those who grieve, 
 
 Allaying sorrow's keenest smart.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. llo 
 
 Our purest joys have some bleak shade, 
 
 Alloyed by Providence, 'twould seem, 
 That we may never be betrayed 
 
 Into forgetfulness or deem 
 The human soul that deathless spark 
 
 Can e'er again an Eden find, 
 Until for heaven it shall embark, 
 
 And reach the home for it designed ; 
 That home where partings all shall cease, 
 
 Nor blight nor end its joys shall know, 
 Where all shall know that " perfect peace," 
 
 (Our Father's word) that He'll bestow. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 Desertion. 
 
 Where are the friends who worshipped thee 
 When thou wert fortune's child? 
 
 No longer now the crowd I see 
 That on thee kindly smiled, 
 
 When wealth and fashion round thee cast 
 
 Their fickle charms too bright to last. 
 
 No longer flattery's serpent-tone 
 
 Beguiles thy listening ear ; 
 Away the golden charms have flown 
 
 Which made thee once so dear ; 
 And flattery never homage paid 
 Where frowning fortune cast its shade. 
 
 Adversity's unerring test, 
 
 Can only friendship prove, 
 And never yet hath it suppressed 
 
 Disinterested love : 
 And it hath left thee, oh ! how few ! 
 Of all that fond and flattering crew.
 
 116 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Thou moved among them robed in light, 
 
 Eclipsing their dull rays, 
 And now that drear misfortune's night 
 
 Hath changed thee to their gaze, 
 With unconcern they think of thee 
 Nor care thy altered lot to see. 
 
 Turn from th' unlovely thoughts that crowd 
 
 In sadness on thy mind 
 Let other hopes dispel this cloud, 
 
 And with thee refuge find; 
 Again let joy illume thy face, 
 And banish grief's desponding trace. 
 
 Thou hast the gift within thyself 
 To bless thy peaceful hearth, 
 
 For can the glare of worldly pelf 
 Enhance thy real worth; 
 
 Thy many virtues far outshine 
 
 The glittering lure that once was thine. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 A Sister's Lament. 
 
 I love, when evening shades the light, 
 To give full scope to memory's flight 
 From present cares rny thoughts to free, 
 And come o'er time and space to thee 
 To where, beneath the dark blue wave, 
 Thou slumberest in thy ocean-grave. 
 Encircled in a sea- weed shroud, 
 Wound round thee by th' unresting flood, 
 Thy corpse in watery depths is laid, 
 
 'Mid gorgeous gems whose radiant hues 
 Their lustre round thy couch diffuse; 
 Where nought the stillness can invade,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 117 
 
 Save requiem of the swelling surge, 
 While sounding forth old ocean's dirge; 
 And as the finny monsters sweep 
 Their circuit through the liquid deep, 
 With slackened fin o'er thee they rest, 
 And scan with curious eyes their guest, 
 Then onward through the waters cleave, 
 Aud thee again all lonely leave. 
 
 Full many a heart-breathed prayer for thee, 
 
 Followed thy course upon the sea, 
 
 That thou might be, in danger's hour, 
 
 Protected by Almighty power 
 
 That He who bids the billows roll, 
 
 Would cheer and elevate the soul, 
 
 When darkening tempests should assail, 
 
 And earthly hopes and efforts fail. 
 
 And though our prayers to save were vain, 
 
 We would not murmur nor complain, 
 
 But recognize the hand of God, 
 
 And bow beneath His chastening rod. 
 
 Of thee though we have been bereft, 
 
 Thy memory behind is left, 
 
 And will with all our pleasures blend, 
 
 A sanctifying power to lend. 
 
 At times f orgetf ulness may cast 
 
 Its lengthening shadows o'er the past 
 
 At times the chill of selfishness 
 
 Its blight may on my mind impress 
 
 May turn from thee my thoughts away, 
 
 May lead from thee my heart astray 
 
 But soon will better feelings rise, 
 
 And win me back to kindred ties, 
 
 For never can I find another 
 
 So dear as thou, my only brother. 
 
 My brotlier, oft I deem thee near, 
 In airy presence and I hear
 
 118 MlSCELL A NEOTJS. 
 
 At times thy gladsome voice and greet 
 Thy kindly smile, with love replete; 
 As when thou left, I see thee now, 
 No trace of care on cheek or brow 
 Thy buoyant step and beaming eye 
 Betokening healthful energy; 
 How little then I thought that ere 
 Another season should appear, 
 Thy bark its starting-point would find, 
 And thou deep sepulchred behind ! 
 
 But thou wilt not for aye remain 
 Engulphed within the rolling main; 
 For when the final summon sounds, 
 It will pervade earth's utmost bounds; 
 The sea its myriads back shall give, 
 Death's prisoners again will live. 
 My brother then, a faith sublime, 
 Hath taught my soul, that to a clime 
 Exempted from the ills of this, 
 The pure in heart shall rise to bliss. 
 Like the heavenly pillars to those of old, 
 This hope my spirit will uphold, 
 And every anxious doubt repress, 
 While wandering through life's wilderness. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 Love's Rhapsody. 
 
 " Can I not find one friend one faithful friend in whom to repose 
 my confidence, with whom to share my joy; I ask no more, and life has 
 no trial which I will not endure. The world is wide nature is boundless 
 is there not such in existence." Extract. 
 
 Such are the questionings which rise 
 
 To agitate the youthful breast, 
 Nor cease until with fancy's guise 
 
 Some fairy image hath been drest.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 119 
 
 Some form of beauty's rarest birth, 
 And kindly feelings, modest worth, 
 Whose glance the inmost soul can thrill, 
 And reign supremely o'er the will, 
 Whose voice more musical appears 
 Than other tones which greet our ears, 
 One whom propitious heaven supplies 
 To make our lot a paradise. 
 Such hast thou ever been to me; 
 
 A being of unworldliness 
 An object of idolatry, 
 
 Whose faintest smile had power to bless; 
 1 have seen those more fair than thou 
 
 Who were more brightly beautiful, 
 Who could awhile around them throw 
 
 A deeper spirit-stirring spell; 
 But they were all an outward glare, 
 And though at first they could ensnare, 
 And for awhile their charms endure, 
 Yet they could not the heart secure; 
 For soon unfelt is the control 
 Beauty alone has o'er the soul. 
 And they had no abiding stay, 
 They passed from every thought away, 
 To leave again a vacancy 
 
 For other transitory things, 
 As evanescent as the ray 
 
 A sunbeam on an atom flings. 
 
 But thou hast stamped a deep impress 
 
 That will defy forgetful ness, 
 
 Hath waked within my breast a strain 
 
 Whose music ever will remain; 
 
 Of all the past has given to me, 
 
 There's nought so sweet to memory 
 
 As those bright hours enjoyed with thee.
 
 120 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Too sooii, alas, these dreams must fade 
 
 The parting hour so long delayed, 
 
 That Hope her baseless dome might rear, 
 
 Inevitably hastens near; 
 
 For there exists, I know too well, 
 
 A gulf between impassable, 
 
 And 'tis the hard decree of fate 
 
 That henceforth we must separate. 
 
 Well, I can now more calmly dwell 
 Upon the sadness of farewell; 
 A secret talisman I bear 
 To check the rising of despair; 
 The thought that thou wilt bear my grief, 
 Though selfishness, will give relief, 
 And grief divided with thy heart 
 Is better far than joy apart. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 The Invalid. 
 
 She moves with an agile step along, 
 
 Arresting every eye, 
 The cynosure of a beautiful throng, 
 
 Beyond all rivalry ; 
 The rose of health on a cheek now blooms, 
 
 By dimpling smiles imprest, 
 And the spirit of joy a breast illumes, 
 
 Where grief was rare a guest. 
 From the past she has gathered but delight, 
 
 Hope's beams o'er the present play, 
 And visions of bliss are dancing bright 
 
 O'er the future's flower-clad way. 
 
 There comes a change. Disease hath paled 
 Life's healthful coloring,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 121 
 
 And the lustre of her eye is veiled 
 
 By the shadow of death's wing ; 
 The voice, whose silver tones so late, 
 
 Like song of the spring-time bird, 
 Could every listener captivate, 
 
 Is now but faintly heard. 
 She knows the cords that bind her soul 
 
 Within its cell of clay, 
 And keep it from its destined goal, 
 
 Are slowly giving way ; 
 That the things of time are waxing dim, 
 
 A mist is shrouding earth, 
 And her spirit must soon return to Him 
 
 From whom it had its birth. 
 
 But though her breast with frequent sighs 
 
 May heave regretfully, 
 As scenes of former revelries 
 
 Come back to memory, 
 'Tis not that she would now recall, 
 
 And live them o'er again, 
 But grief, that she should stake her all 
 
 On joys so frail and vain ; 
 For she hath proved they cannot cheer 
 
 Our being's parting hour, 
 Or deck the darkness of our bier 
 
 With one immortal flower. 
 Religion now hath o'er her cast 
 
 The gleams of its sacred joys, 
 And she turneth gladly from the past/ 
 
 To list to its angel voice ; 
 It gently o'er her soul had breathed 
 
 A peace it ne'er had known, 
 And her pallid brow will soon be wreathed 
 
 With an everlasting crown. 
 Salem, M>s8.,l$M. 
 
 11
 
 122 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Kindness. 
 
 ,in that we woul 
 the heart mu 
 
 "It is in vain that we would coldly gaze on such as smile upon us; 
 le heart must leap kiudly back to kindness." Byron . 
 
 Yes, such is tlie supreme control 
 Of kindness o'er the human soul ; 
 The feelings in their harshest mood 
 It softens into gratitude, 
 Subduing by its winning power 
 The evil thoughts that darkly lower, 
 When injuries the heart depress, 
 Or anger stirs to bitterness. 
 
 When by the spell of sickness bound, 
 The hours pass their unvarying round 
 Of suffering oh, then how sweet, 
 The tones of those we love to greet ; 
 Their melody a charm conveys 
 To lighten up the languid gaze, 
 Pain's restless throbbiugs to allay, 
 And drive depression from its prey. 
 
 When bowed beneath the stern decree 
 
 Of sorrow or adversity, 
 
 The stricken one despairing droops 
 
 O'er ruined schemes and blighted hopes, 
 
 This heaven-blessed power new life can give, 
 
 The sinking energies revive, 
 
 The wounded feelings gently soothe, 
 
 Misfortune's rugged pathway smooth, 
 
 And bid again the rescued one 
 
 His onward race rejoicing run. 
 
 Enter the captive's gloomy cell, 
 And witness there its potent spell; 
 The heart that would unmoved remain, 
 Though lost to hope, though pierced by pain,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 123 
 
 Though death should undisguised draw near, 
 And in its sternest form appear, 
 Will bow submissive to such sway, 
 And child-like weep its woes away. 
 
 The sanguinary savage yields 
 Free homage to the force it wields; 
 A trifling benefit secures 
 A friend in him while life endures. 
 It is the universal key 
 Which turns with ease humanity, 
 And strikes a chord that, will resound 
 In every clime where man is found. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 To a Sorrowing Friend. 
 
 In any form, come when it will, 
 
 Death must some heart with sorrow fill, 
 
 Dissever from it some fond tie 
 
 Whose loss no other can supply. 
 
 It matters not, though he should find 
 
 A victim to his stroke resigned, 
 
 Hailing the summons with delight 
 
 To wing from earthly bounds his flight, 
 
 Or one who almost leaves with strife 
 
 Convulsive clinging unto life 
 
 Whether a friend mature in years, 
 
 In his dark kingdom disappears, 
 
 Or infancy its eyelids close, 
 
 To sink into the last repose, 
 
 Still in some struck and quivering heart 
 
 Is felt the ruthless tyrant's dart. 
 
 And thou, my friend, hast seen the earth 
 Close over her who gave thee birth 
 Hast heard "dust unto dust " o'er one 
 For whom thou gladly wouldst have gone
 
 124 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 From all life's pleasant scenes, to rest 
 Within earth's all-absorbing breast. 
 I knew her worth the power to move 
 All hearts to reverence and love 
 Was hers; she was too pure, I deemed, 
 To sojourn long on earth; she seemed 
 A spirit placed by some mistake 
 
 Amid the things existing here, 
 That would too soon this realm forsake 
 
 And seek again its natal sphere. 
 Her image is inwoven with 
 The memory of the past, like wreath 
 Of fadeless flowers, whose beauty rare 
 Nor time nor change can e'er impair. 
 
 Over the distance unto thee, 
 I send the voice of sympathy; 
 By a mysterious providence 
 Thy mother hath been taken hence. 
 And thou art left to find thy way 
 Alone, o'er life's tempestuous sea, 
 At early age, when most the soul 
 Requires her love inspired control, 
 When our affections all entwine 
 Round her like tendrils round the vine. 
 
 But though misfortunes overwhelm, 
 An unseen Pilot guides the helm, 
 And when the friends we long have loved 
 Are from their wonted haunts removed, 
 'Tis for the best, we should believe, 
 For those who go and those who grieve, 
 And 'tis mistaken love that would 
 Recall again to earth the good. 
 
 Thy mother still will o'er thee bend, 
 Nor less than when on earth befriend;
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 135 
 
 Oft dwelling on her, you will feel 
 A holy pleasure o'er you steal; 
 She to her earthly loves will come, 
 To lure them to her happy home, 
 To loose from them the fetterings 
 Which earth around the spirit flings, 
 And animate and nerve them on, 
 Till they, like her, the race have won. 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 Home Longings. 
 
 I saw the moisture in her eye, 
 And heard a half -suppressed sigh; 
 Fast as she brushed away a tear, 
 Another tell-tale would appear, 
 Till with averted face she strove 
 To hide what she could not remove, 
 And keep (ah vain attempt) unknown, 
 The grief she was ashamed to own. 
 I could not be at loss to know 
 Why saduess darkened lip and brow, 
 For young experience taught me why, 
 Were mingled thus the tear and sigh; 
 Such sorrowing I knew must come 
 From one who fondly yearned for home. 
 
 We yearn for home; we turn away 
 From all that would invite our stay, 
 And send fond memory o'er the space, 
 To where we left our kindred race; 
 'Tis there our first impressions meet 
 And form associations sweet, 
 There all our best affections find 
 Supports round which they freely wind, 
 To those we in return can give 
 The kindness we from them receive,
 
 126 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 And there, perchance, the grass may wave 
 O'er some departed dear one's grave. 
 
 We yearn for home; through winter's time 
 The birds must seek a milder clime; 
 But when the snow-clad season yields 
 To spring's gay flowers and verdant fields, 
 On eager wings they cleave the air, 
 Unto their former haunts repair, 
 And, nest renewed, the old one near, 
 Their callow brood again they rear. 
 And when compelled by adverse fate, 
 From those we love to separate, 
 We wander forth, but never find 
 A home like that we leave behind. 
 Though for a season friendship's smile 
 Our homeward longings may beguile, 
 Or pleasure lure with its caress 
 The memory to forgetfulness, 
 Yet there are moments when we feel 
 Home recollections o'er us steal, 
 Which bid all other thoughts begone, 
 And occupy the mind alone; 
 The chords of kindred love they sweep, 
 And make us wish that like the race, 
 Who wander through the upper deep, 
 We could our journeyings retrace. 
 
 We yearn for home but when the hand 
 Of death has thinned its little band, 
 And naught meets the inquiring eye 
 But cold and silent vacancy, 
 Where once a smiling group was seen, 
 And all was happiness serene, 
 Then home no longer can impart 
 Its wonted joyaunce to the heart,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 127 
 
 Xor chance nor change again restore 
 The charms which it possessed before; 
 Then from all earth can give we turn. 
 And for their heavenly mansion yearn. 
 Quincy, Mass., 1835. 
 
 To . 
 
 'Tis withered now thy rich bouquet 
 
 Its life and beauty gone; 
 But though its bloom hath passed away, 
 
 'Tis still a treasured boon; 
 The far domain from whence it came 
 
 I never loved as yet, 
 Yet there are those who have a claim 
 
 My heart can ne'er forget; 
 
 Whose fond remembrance 'mid the press 
 
 Of constant, daily care, 
 Can dissipate my sveariness, 
 
 Or give me strength to bear; 
 Thy token bids the present flee. 
 
 And brings them to my mind, 
 A talisman to memory, 
 
 A thing with home entwined. 
 
 It speaks to me of thee, my friend 
 
 As bloomed these fragrant flowers, 
 When I received them from thy hand, 
 
 So bloom thy youthful hours; 
 As in their freshness fair were these, 
 
 So nature lavishly 
 Hath given thee, with a mind to please, 
 
 The gift to charm the eye. 
 
 Like earth's fair flowers, we are taught 
 That we must know decay,
 
 128 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 The most secure in health are not 
 
 Less perishing than they; 
 A truth that's traced in bold relief 
 
 On every daily page, 
 A warning to the soul how brief 
 
 Its earthly heritage. 
 
 Yet such reflections will impart 
 
 But gloom unto the mind, 
 If th' pearl of priceless wealth, the heart 
 
 As yet hath failed to find; 
 'Tis this, when earthly comforts fail, 
 
 The spirit can control, 
 Lifting it o'er life's narrow pale 
 
 Unto an heavenly goal. 
 Salem, Mass., 18-34. 
 
 Striving to Unveil the Future. 
 
 Vain curiosity ! thy power 
 
 First banished peace from Eden's bower, 
 
 And drove its happy tenants forth 
 
 To toil and sweat where all was dearth. 
 
 How oft impatiently we burn 
 
 Futurity's veiled leaf to turn. 
 
 Foregoing much of present bliss 
 
 For some imagined happiness, 
 
 Or with a self -tormenting will 
 
 Forefashioning uncertain ill; 
 
 Yet could we rend the veil aside, 
 
 Which shrouds with its mysterious folds 
 What is to human ken denied, 
 
 Would what Futurity unfolds 
 Of all that we must bear and do, 
 Cause sweet contentment to ensue.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 129 
 
 In olden times a race we find, 
 
 Endowed with more than mortal mind, 
 
 Who could intelligibly read 
 
 What the Almighty had decreed ; 
 
 Yet, who the Prophet's gift would ask, 
 
 If doomed to their unthankful task ! 
 
 Driven forth into the wilderness 
 
 By those whom they had sought to bless, 
 
 And by Jehovah's stern rebuke 
 
 Again to duty driven back 
 
 As it was with the Tishbite seer 
 
 " What doest thou, Elijah, here f " 
 
 And he, the " man of sorrows," too 
 
 His prescience waa the fruitful source, 
 From whence those sad reflections grew, 
 
 Which darkened o'er His earthly course; 
 While duty bade Him to condemn, 
 He mourned o'er lost Jerusalem; 
 It need must be a prophet's tomb 
 
 Should lie without the city's gate, 
 And truly did the Saviour's doom 
 
 Bear witness of the prophet's fate. 
 Danbury, Conn., 1837. 
 
 Love's Astrology. 
 
 Among the superstitions of the French peasantry, it is mentioned by 
 some author, that if a star shoot while a lover, who has not " passed the 
 Rubicon," is gazing at it and thinking of his mistress, it is an auspicious 
 omen, and denotes the successful termination of his suit. 
 
 How beautiful ye are, 
 
 Ye orbs of silvery light 
 How more than earthly fair 
 
 To our admiring sight; 
 Omnipotence and love 
 
 Hath spread ye thus abroad,
 
 130 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 That all who look above 
 May know there is a God. 
 
 The weary world around 
 
 Is wrapt in tranquil sleep, 
 And not a single sound 
 
 Breaks o'er the silence deep, 
 Save the discordant notes 
 
 Of insect minstrelsy, 
 Or the soft breeze that floats 
 
 In gentle murmurs by. 
 
 And at this lonely hour, 
 
 When stillness broods o'er all, 
 I feel within a power 
 
 That bids me on thee call ; 
 By mystic lore of earth, 
 
 Of thee 'twas taught of old, 
 The events of human birth 
 
 Thy influence controlled. 
 
 Then list ye to my plea, 
 
 Ye luminaries fair, 
 Reveal the mystery 
 
 A lover lifts his prayer : 
 A form of queenly grace, 
 
 My plaint to thee hath moved, 
 Of thine own loveliness 
 
 One who but seen is loved. 
 
 I question thee of her 
 
 Say, what canst thou reveal 
 To Love's astrologer, 
 
 To make or mar his weal ; 
 Thy answer I await 
 
 Will our existence be 
 Linked to a common fate 
 
 Throughout eternity ?
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 131 
 
 Or, parted, are we doomed 
 
 Life's scenes to wander o'er 
 Oar hearts to each entombed 
 
 Our hands to clasp no more ? 
 Mute are ye all V ah, no ! 
 
 Hope beams into my breast 
 You augury I know 
 
 Your suppliant now is blest. 
 Daribury, Conn., 1837. 
 
 Woman at the Bed of Sickness. 
 
 He cannot linger with them long, 
 
 Though hope the thought repel 
 That pallid cheek and wasted frame 
 
 An early death foretell ; 
 The "hollow pageantries" of earth 
 
 Are fading from his view, 
 A few more weary hours, and then 
 
 He bids the world adieu. 
 
 A youthful form is by his couch, 
 
 With constant watching pale 
 Unasked supplying every want, 
 
 With gentle smiles, that veil 
 A heart with dark forebodings rilled, 
 
 Those auguries of gloom, 
 Which come affection's eye to dim 
 
 With visions of the tomb. 
 
 Before her bowed by fell disease 
 
 An only brother droops, 
 Unconscious, in his feverish sleep, 
 
 Who o'er him kindly stoops ; 
 But as she wipes his moistened brow, 
 
 He wakens from his dream, 
 And in a tone of helplessness, 
 
 Faint murmurs forth her name.
 
 132 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 That word 0, how the hollow tones' 
 
 Have moved and thrilled her breast, 
 Forcing frotu grief's deep fountain tears, 
 
 That will not be repressed : 
 It told how much was felt the lovej 
 
 Which knew no ebbing tide, 
 And strove beneath a placid look, 
 
 Deep weariness to hide. 
 
 0, not amid the gaudy throng 
 
 Who wait on pleasure's shrine, 
 Not in the revel or the song 
 
 Seems Woman most divine ; 
 But when she bends at suffering's call, 
 
 To soothe its darksome hour, 
 Ah, then her spirit is imbued 
 
 With an angelic power. 
 
 And that young maiden though her lot 
 
 Is with earth's toiling race 
 Though Nature hath to her denied 
 
 The charms of form or face 
 Looked lovelier in her humble sphere 
 
 Of patient watchfulness, 
 Than if enthroned as beauty's queen, 
 
 And robed in jewelled dress. 
 Danbury, Conn., 1837. 
 
 Lines Written in my Cousin's Album. 
 
 Nellie, my youthful friend, may you, 
 As on you tread life's changing way, 
 
 Find ever friends, both warm and true, 
 And strength for each succeeding day. 
 
 Life has its mission for us all 
 
 To bear and do, to trust and hope
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 133 
 
 On each will trials sometimes fall, 
 
 With which our hearts must bravely cope. 
 
 Be yours the lot to gather flowers 
 That sweetest on life's pathway glow, 
 
 And yours to find life's fleeting hours 
 
 To years of peace and profit grow. 
 Waterbury, Conn., 1866. 
 
 Saddened Life. 
 
 " in a moment we may plunge our years 
 
 In fatal penitence, and in the blight 
 
 Of our own soul, turn all our blood to tears." Byron. 
 
 They come with slow and solemn tread 
 They come to sepulchre the dead, 
 The last sad rites of love to pay 
 Unto the soul-forsaken clay; 
 To pass through that dark scene of earth, 
 Which none escape of mortal birth, 
 When from affection's heart is wrung, 
 The keenest pang life's store among. 
 
 Life's lamp is quenched at early noon, 
 But who will say it was too soon ? 
 When all that sweetens it has fled, 
 Why sorrow o'er the earth-piled bed? 
 0, who would call the sleeper back, 
 To writhe again on sorrow's rack, 
 Till madness came at mercy's beck, . 
 To hide from him his offspring's wreck. 
 
 A youthful form her only son 
 A widowed mother leans upon: 
 I knew him in my early days 
 A comrade oft in boyhood plays; 
 12
 
 134 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 And as I trace time's backward stream, 
 
 The intervening moments seem 
 
 But as a year-encircled space, 
 
 Since last we joined the schoolboy race. 
 
 How changed, alas, his prospects now ! 
 The brand of guilt is on his brow, 
 And even at his father's grave, 
 The jailer's presence he must brave. 
 That mother now is doubly lone, 
 Bereft at once of husband, son, 
 And in her hour of greatest need, 
 She leans upon a broken reed; 
 Lent by stern justice for a space 
 
 To guide her steps unto the tomb, 
 To see the grave his sire embrace, 
 
 And then reclaimed to wait his doom. 
 
 And she the fair young flower his wife, 
 
 How bitter is her bosom's strife ! 
 
 Is it the dread Destroyer's hand 
 
 Hath touched her heart with sorrow's wand, 
 
 Causing the fearful agony 
 
 That speaks in each convulsive sigh ? 
 
 Ah, no I the dead she cannot weep, 
 
 His slumber now is sweet and deep; 
 
 Those tear-drops gush for one whose doom 
 
 Through life is to a living tomb 
 
 Who dead to her, though still in life, 
 
 Must leave her soon a widowed wife. 
 
 And that young cherub on her breast, 
 Sweet nestling in a quiet rest 
 Left while in life's infantile stage 
 To more than orphan heritage, 
 Within a world each day beset, 
 By sin, temptation and regret,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 135 
 
 Where error oft wears pleasure's guise, 
 
 And duty asks a sacrifice: 
 
 O'er him with foucl solicitude, 
 
 Who'll watch as that lost guardian should, 
 
 For virtue's seed his mind prepare, 
 
 And from it root the early tare ? 
 
 Yet deem not he hath turned to tears 
 The hopes of all his future years, 
 Or cursed himself throughout all time, 
 By long premeditated crime; 
 Ah, no how oft a moment's wrong, 
 Reproaches keen through years prolong ! 
 The quick revenge the moment's hate 
 Hath wrought his ignominious fate, 
 And given unto the blush of shame, 
 What else had been an honest fame. 
 Danbury, Conn., 1835. 
 
 Lines on a Recent Death. 
 
 Of those whose bark adown life's stream, 
 
 Abreast of ours doth glide, 
 Are some, whose friendship and esteem 
 
 May be a source of pride; 
 Whose kindly tones with magic skill 
 
 Can touch the secret chords 
 Within the breast, which never thrill 
 
 At the mere sound of words. 
 
 Such was our friend, the world among; 
 
 We search the past in vain, 
 To find where envy's poisoned tongue, 
 
 Or malice, left their stain; 
 A breast with generous impulse rife, 
 
 Alive to others' woes 
 His was the calm decline of life, 
 
 Unshadowed at its close.
 
 136 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Yes he was one whose earthly course 
 
 In lines of light we trace 
 Who won respect by virtue's force, 
 
 By peaceful, pleasant ways. 
 With powers adapted earth to bless, 
 
 Mysterious is the doom 
 Which takes him from his usefulness, 
 
 To fill an early tomb. 
 
 He's passed into the marble sleep 
 
 Appointed once for all, 
 And sorrowing age and childhood weep 
 
 O'er his untimely fall; 
 Yet Faith, angelic Faith, upbuoys 
 
 The hearts by sadness riven, 
 And bids them trust he now enjoys 
 
 The unfading bliss of heaven. 
 
 He's gone ! Yet none who knew him here 
 
 Will soon forget his worth 
 For much he left us to revere, 
 
 Sojourning while on earth: 
 He's gone ! But memory will retain, 
 
 Within her sacred trust, 
 A sweet remembrance of him, when 
 
 Dust hath returned to dust. 
 Danbury, Conn., 1835. 
 
 Hours of Illness. 
 Hushed into midnight silence deep, 
 
 All Nature courts repose 
 The worn and weary ones in sleep 
 
 Their heavy eyelids close; 
 While I, within the prison walls 
 
 Of tyrant Pain fast bound, 
 Have heard, at lagging intervals, 
 
 The clock bell go its round.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 137 
 
 Yet not without a sweet relief. 
 
 Night's wakeful hours have passed 
 Making each painful throb more brief, 
 
 Less piercing than the last: 
 The trusting Faith that looks above, 
 
 The Almighty's will to learn, 
 The soul's sure strengthener will prove, 
 
 When fails the fleshly urn. 
 
 A star, by morning's light impearled, 
 
 Bright 'mong the astral spheres, 
 I've watched, until a spirit's world, 
 
 To fancy it appears. 
 Anon, a darksome cloud doth pass, 
 
 Obscuring all its light, 
 But soon again in loveliness 
 
 It beams upon the sight. 
 
 Thus, Heavenly Father! dost thou throw, 
 
 Athwart our earthly light, 
 The chequering shades of joy and woe, 
 
 Until life's closing night : 
 But though the heart at times must droop, 
 
 By sorrow overcast, 
 Thanks, Father ! for the blessed hope 
 
 All mil be light at last ! 
 Daribury, Conn., 1835. 
 
 The Drunkard's Betrothed. 
 
 The wish is vain thou wilt not see 
 The tempest gathering o'er thy way, 
 
 Nor shun the coming misery 
 
 Which friendly eyes with grief survey.
 
 138 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Thou wilt not rend the veil aside 
 
 Which passion hangs around its shrine, 
 
 Whose folds all imperfections hide, 
 Nor let the light of reason shine. 
 
 Thou'rt slumbering o'er a precipice 
 In willing ignorance of thy fate, 
 
 Enjoying dreams of future bliss 
 
 From which thou'lt wake to truth too late! 
 
 Thy blinded love's deep tenderness, 
 Its idol's faith doth fondly trust ; 
 
 Clothes all his faults in virtue's dress, 
 Nor thinks he e'er can be unjust. 
 
 0, bui'st these fetters, fraught with woe, 
 Although it fill with grief thy heart; 
 
 Break from love's fatal thraldom, though 
 Thy life-strings may entwine its dart. 
 
 Give not so thoughtlessly away 
 The keeping of thy happiness 
 
 He never will thy love repay, 
 
 Nor deign thy willing smiles to bless. 
 
 It is not yet too late to heed 
 
 Thy friends, who hold so dear thy life 
 O, lean not on a broken reed, 
 
 Do not become a drunkard's wife ! 
 Salem, Mass., 1834. 
 
 Unforgotten. 
 
 (On the death of My daughter Katie.) 
 Two circles have passed of the seasons away, 
 Since we laid thee, dear Katie, in life's early day, 
 To rest on the hillside, while sun's fading rays, 
 And the zephyrs of evening fell soft o'er the place.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 139 
 
 Yet still un forgotten, thy presence returns, 
 And the heart for lost treasure unfaltering yearns, 
 As at dawn or at eve, in the hours of repose, 
 The current of memory back to thee flows. 
 
 Thy wan hands enfolded again in our own, 
 As, cheek unto cheek, cometh back each low tone, 
 While thy glorified spirit, illumed from on high, 
 Uttered sweetly its parting, " Dear Mother, Good-bye! " 
 
 O fair were thy footsteps in life's busy way, 
 A charm in our home, as thy heart in its play 
 Went out in its fervor and truth toward all 
 A magnet whose power we delight to recall. 
 
 Not voiceless, dear Katie, though slumbering where 
 The rose gives its odor to soft summer air, 
 And soon, as the morning's first radiance breaks, 
 The robin's sweet anthem in worship awakes. 
 
 Not voiceless -7 for echoing back through the years, 
 Some fond tone is stirring the fountain of tears, 
 While a spirit-world power lays its wand on our sight,^ 
 As we gather again in the day's fading light. 
 
 O glorified spirit ! your mission to earth, 
 From the Fount of all good has its sanctified birth, 
 For ye lift the dark cloud of bereavement, and still, 
 With thy blest inspirations, the murmuring will. 
 
 We mourn over losses in Life's golden chain, 
 Yet, renewed, 'twill never be severed again, 
 And not until Death has ensealed loving eyes, 
 Can the soul, in its fulness, the Better Land prize. 
 Poughkeepsie, July 11, 1867.
 
 140 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 In Memoriam. 
 (On the death of my daughter Hattie.) 
 
 Oil a fair day of June we laid her to rest, 
 And the beautiful flowers that she loved so dear, 
 
 Loving hands in tenderness laid on her breast 
 Their mission of grace, like her own, ended here 
 
 The features, so rigid and wan, now no more, 
 
 In their placid and peaceful repose, 
 The feverish flush and the weariness wore, 
 
 Of the life we had watched to its close. 
 
 The imprint of Death rested pale on her brow, 
 Away from the scenes to her memory dear, 
 
 But ardent home-longings, unfilled here below, 
 Fruition shall know in a happier sphere. 
 
 We miss thee at morn, when the gathering comes 
 From the slumberous realm of the curtained night, 
 
 We miss thee at evening, when twilight resumes 
 Its spell o'er the heart in the vanishing light. 
 
 We shall miss thee, beloved, from the circles of home, 
 Thy daily communings, thy part of our lives, 
 
 But tender and fresh through the years will become, 
 The memories sweet of all that survives. 
 
 We lay thee to rest, to the " rest that remains," 
 By promise divine to the children of earth, 
 
 Till the cycle appointed, when angelic strains 
 
 Shall summon the faithful to share the new birth. 
 Poughkeeptie, August 1, 1884.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 1-11 
 
 Restoration. 
 
 (Lines written on the death of my granddaughter.) 
 Bright she beamed upon our vision, 
 Little Hattie star-eyed flower 
 Treasure sent from fields elysian, 
 Joy of life and priceless dower. 
 
 Day by day she grew in beauty, 
 
 Cherished by parental care, 
 Finding pleasure in each duty, 
 
 Building hopes on silent prayer. 
 
 There was music in the chatter 
 
 Of her charming baby talk 
 Music in the trial patter 
 
 Of the little feet to walk. 
 
 So she grew upon our clinging, 
 
 As of one to life as dear, 
 Little dreaming she was winging 
 
 Early to her kindred sphere. 
 
 Sharp and bitter was the trial, 
 To each aching, anguished heart, 
 
 As we watched, upon the dial, 
 Time and Hope alike depart. 
 
 In the gloom of a great sorrow, 
 
 Wait we darling in our pain, 
 Till will come the glad to-morrow, 
 
 We shall clasp our lost again. 
 
 Rest thee in thy peaceful slumber, 
 
 Blossom of a few brief days, 
 Till the years in rounded number, 
 
 Give thee back to our embrace. 
 
 Over us in spirit hover, 
 
 Glorified and spotless one, 
 That God's lessons may uncover 
 
 Light and Hope through His dear Son. 
 Albany, Dec. , 1885.
 
 142 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Sad Fatality. 
 
 While a large concourse of our citizens was at the Upper Landing on 
 Monday evening, to witness the departure of the volunteers on the 
 steamer Republic, a blast was flred, at the Ferry Dock, but a few paces 
 distant, which sent up a number of fragments of the rock. One of them 
 struck just below the temple of Miss Mary Southwick, daughter of Win. 
 C. Southwick, with a fatal shock. She was exemplary in all the walks 
 of life, and endeared to all who were associated with her. 
 
 In a pleasant home there is gloom to-day, 
 For a loved and loving one passed away, 
 A spirit has passed from this world of ours, 
 And wended its way to unfading bowers. 
 
 weep not bereaved ones, that stilly and cold, 
 Ye have laid her to sleep in the shroud's pure fold, 
 'Tis a beautiful rest 'neath the verdant sod, 
 For it opens a path to the garden of God. 
 
 She has left us, and Death has broken in twain, 
 A heart-welded link in love's kindred chain ; 
 But mourn for her not, for the beautiful gem 
 More brightly will sparkle in heaven's diadem. 
 
 Then make her a grave, where the sunbeams play 
 With the waving grass, through the livelong day, 
 Where the bright streams flow, and the glad birds sing 
 And the wild flowers bloom in the opening spring. 
 
 For kindred to all that is gentle and fair, 
 
 In fragrance and beauty of field and of air, 
 
 She will come in the hush of the twilight hours, 
 
 Unchanged to the vision, as fresh opening flowers. 
 
 And they bear a sweet hope in their pleasant bloom, 
 Of the home we must gain through the sunless tomb, 
 Of a peaceful existence beyond the dark grave, 
 Among the ransomed by Him who died to save. 
 Poughkeepsie, 1864.
 
 CARRIERS' 
 
 NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES, 
 
 WRITTEN FOU MY JOURNAL AT POCGHKEEPSIE. 
 
 1854. 
 
 Another circle of Old Time, 
 
 Kind patrons, over us bath sped 
 Again I weave my homespun rhyme, 
 (Perhaps you'll think it worth a dime) 
 
 While through the Past we tread : 
 Though all unskilled may be my verse, 
 Permit me briefly to rehearse 
 
 Events both old and new 
 To lift the curtain's drooping fold, 
 And bid Reflection calmly hold 
 
 Its mirror to our view; 
 Perhaps we thus to Faith may give 
 New strength a truer life to live 
 
 To Hope a ray impart 
 Gather from Wisdom's fountain deep, 
 Some pearl of precious price to keep, 
 
 An amulet for the heart 
 That Love, with more unselfish aim, 
 May kindle up a generous flame 
 
 For all of human mould, 
 In humble trust on Him who came 
 To cleanse our race from sin and shame, 
 
 And draw us to His fold 
 Ordaining that our love be moved 
 Toward Him, because "He first hath loved.
 
 144 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 Another year ! bow many links 
 
 Around the heart its record flings ! 
 How fondly eager Memory drinks 
 
 From all its various tinctured springs ! 
 Love, with its golden zone, hath bound 
 
 In happy bondage trusting souls, 
 And precious barques, hope-laden crowned 
 
 With prosperous gales, o'er threatening shoals. 
 
 Time's shadow o'er the dial moves, 
 
 And other scenes uprise to view 
 Of parted friends, and household-loves, 
 
 Companions ever dear and true; 
 While thus, in Retrospection warm, 
 
 On Memory's wings we pensive turn, 
 "We keenly feel that " Partings form 
 
 A lesson truly hard to learn." 
 
 Death's bitter potion some have drunk 
 
 For who may 'scape the tyrant's stroke 
 Or here, or there, some form hath sunk, 
 
 And close entwining tendrils broke; 
 But while they tread this " vale of tears," 
 
 Their cherished hopes by anguish riven, 
 The mourner, upward listening hears 
 
 "Thy woe can find a balm in heaven." 
 
 Pause we in contemplation now to tread 
 
 The rural precincts sacred to the dead; 
 
 A Place of Rest a picturesque retreat, 
 
 To draw from busy life our willing feet. 
 
 In quiet beauty, Nature's imprint here, 
 
 Through each revolving Season, will appear, 
 
 And Art erect, 'neath fond affection's eye, 
 
 The sculptured stone, to point where loved ones lie; 
 
 The plastic earth will own the moulder's power, 
 
 Yielding the blossoming bough and fragrant flower,
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 145 
 
 Not many changing seasons ere the soil 
 
 Yet scarcely riven by the Sexton's toil, 
 
 Will, of the Dead, a teeming mart become, 
 
 Nor heedless footsteps longer o'er it roam. 
 
 Yes, Death insatiate will his harvest reap, 
 
 For all must pass into the marble sleep; 
 
 The busy throng, elate with gainful schemes, 
 
 And Youth who build their castles high on dreams 
 
 The Maiden, beautiful in Life's bright morn 
 
 Old Age and Infancy be hither borne. 
 
 Not lost this teaching, if we rightly trace, 
 
 The truth divine, to " number well our days," 
 
 For oft, 'mid trials stern, the wayward heart 
 
 Turns from the wrong, to learn the "better part." 
 
 Our country ! How with swelling pride 
 
 Wt- turn to speak of thy fair fame 
 How from deep fountains, gush the tide 
 
 Of throbbing pulses for thy aim 
 Is traced upon historic page 
 
 A lesson to the tyrant throng, 
 Whose course is tracked, in every age, 
 
 By deeds of robbery and wrong. 
 For thee, from Europe's down-crushed sons 
 
 Go up the words of grateful prayer, 
 And patriots, in derisive tones, 
 
 To meet Oppression's edicts dare. 
 
 Earth's truest noblemen here come 
 
 A shelter 'neath thy flag to find, 
 To seek in Freedom's land a home 
 
 Where royal shackles cannot bind; 
 Here MEAGHER, MITCHELL, now as free 
 
 As the proud eagle in our sky, 
 Sound forth to every land and sea. 
 
 That man's redemption draweth nigh, 
 13
 
 146 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 When Crowned heads and Cossack rule 
 
 No more shall keep their iron sway, 
 But in fair Freedom's peaceful school 
 
 The nations own a brighter day. 
 
 In Smyrna Bay brave Ingrahain 
 
 Wrote terror on the tyrant's face, 
 When beat to arms the roll of drum, 
 
 And brief was Austrian time of grace; 
 For kidnapped in a dungeon hold 
 
 Of Austrian brigautine, there lay 
 One, who could claim in accents bold, 
 
 Protection from America ! 
 Nor fell the truth on heedless ears 
 
 That gallant ship with dauntless crew, 
 'Gainst double force for action clears, 
 
 And snaps the prisoner's bonds in two. 
 
 Athwart old ocean's billowy way 
 
 Is flashing fierce War's lurid light, 
 For gather now, in fatal fray, 
 
 The Moslem and the Muscovite; 
 The grasping Northmen's countless hordes 
 
 Of easy triumphs proudly dream, 
 While Omar Pasha bravely fords 
 
 The darkly rolling Danube's stream. 
 Heaven for the right ! Our beating hearts 
 
 Go wildly with each Turkish blow, 
 And, as the sulphurous curtain parts, 
 
 We joy to see the Cossack low; 
 Heaven for the right ! Let scimetar 
 
 And cannon ball sweep back again 
 The broken cohorts of the Czar, 
 
 Dismayed within his own domain. 
 
 Our task is now finished, and heartily here, 
 
 Kind patrons ! we greet you, A HAPPY NEW YEAR !
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 147 
 
 Be yours the blest path whose guerdon shall prove 
 A sweet Retrospection at every remove, 
 Till the years shall be swept 'neath Oblivion's pall, 
 And the Age of no changes encircle us all ! 
 
 1864. 
 
 Another year has set its seal 
 
 Upon the record of our lives, 
 And Time's swift-turning chariot wheel, 
 
 Knowing no pause, right onward drives. 
 We may not hear his cracking whip, 
 
 Nor motion of his gliding car. 
 As through life's changing scenes we slip, 
 
 And backward look on distance far; 
 No toll-gate stoppings on this " pike," 
 
 And all may ride without a " red," 
 Though Time takes toll from all alike, 
 
 He does it while he drives ahead. 
 Still sweeps the bloody tide of War, 
 Still on our Nation's flag a star 
 Is here and there in dark eclipse, 
 Whose name now falls from saddened lips, 
 Persisting in an evil course, 
 Whose end can only bring remorse, 
 They struggle on against all hope, 
 And vainly with our forces cope. 
 
 The stubborn fight 'gainst Vicksburgh walls. 
 Yielding at length to Union balls, 
 Port Hudson's memorable strife, 
 
 Where our own boys bore manly part. 
 And gallant COWLES proved with his life 
 
 How dear the Flag was to his heart 
 At Gettysburg!!, now wed to fame, 
 
 Where LEE fell back with shattered ranks,
 
 148 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 And, balked of his expected game, 
 Eager to reach Potomac's banks, 
 Upon whose consecrated ground, 
 With soldiers' graves now thickly crowned, 
 Our own Home Regiment, side by side, 
 Humbled the foeman in his pride, 
 And bore the stars and stripes where Death 
 Was treading out the warrior's breath 
 On Chattanooga's famous field 
 
 Where Chickamaugua held its sway 
 On Lookout where the foemen reeled 
 
 Backward in panic from the fray 
 All these and more of red fields won 
 By Union arms, and bravely done, 
 On SIXTY-THREE a record trace 
 Of valor, Time can ne'er efface. 
 
 But not upon the land alone, 
 
 The trophies of our Flag are shown ; 
 
 Our iron-clads amid the roar 
 
 Of Sumter's guns on Charleston's shore, 
 
 At shortest range their mark have made, 
 
 Where crumbling walls and silenced gun, 
 And treason's flag no more displayed, 
 
 Show that their work is well begun. 
 Should British Lion or Gallic Cock 
 
 Attempt with us to interfere, 
 Our iron-clads will prove a shock, 
 
 For which they '11 have a wholesome fear. 
 In time of peace prepare for war, 
 
 Is an old adage, held as sound 
 As pledge of peace each Monitor 
 
 Another surety will be found. 
 No foreign power into this fight 
 
 Must enter with a hostile gun, 
 What 'twixt ourselves we cannot right, 
 
 'Twere better far to leave undone.
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 149 
 
 Europe now hears the alarum peal 
 
 Of nations gathering to a fight, 
 Where right is shaped by ball and steel, 
 
 And means surrendering to might. 
 The Corsi can's successor tries 
 
 The role his uncle tried before, 
 Let him keep well in mind if wise 
 
 The Eagle cannot always soar. 
 Soon may the clouds of War disperse, 
 
 And Peace once more oar land illume, 
 Soon cease the desolating curse 
 
 Which shrouds our country now in gloom ; 
 Soon in a Union true and strong 
 
 May every State its safety find. 
 And our grand Constitution long 
 
 In concord every section bind. 
 
 A Happy New Year ! once again, 
 
 Kind patrons, whom we seek to please, 
 And as the seasons wax and wane, 
 
 Be yours, enjoyment, health and ease. 
 The PRESS in daily rounds we bring, 
 
 With gathered news from every source, 
 In Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring, 
 
 All times, all seasons, in their course ; 
 A welcome may it find from you 
 
 So will our labors lightened be, 
 Whether the year be old or new, 
 
 Thanks for that postal currency. 
 
 1865. 
 
 Our greeting, kind patrons, again we renew, 
 As thoughtful we say to the Old Year adieu, 
 And welcome with hope the dawn of the New. 
 The New Year has brought us again to your dooi
 
 150 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 To talk o'er events which have marked '64; 
 With our carrier's address we wait on you here 
 And wish you sincerely a Happy New Year. 
 
 What change has been wrought in the year now gone by, 
 
 To quicken the heart and to moisten the eye ? 
 
 How many fair prospects which welcomed its birth, 
 
 Have failed in their pride and are lost upon earth, 
 
 How many have left us whose lines are now set, 
 
 Where sentinels challenge with sharp bayonet, 
 
 Each moment exposed to the rallying call 
 
 Which ushers them on to the steel or the ball , 
 
 Or, on the wide ocean, or gun-shotted deck, 
 
 Watch day and by night rebel rovers to check, 
 
 All patient awaiting the hour of release, 
 
 When grim-visaged War shall surrender to Peace, 
 
 And freed from privations of camp and of field, 
 
 Eeturn to the pleasures that happy homes yield, 
 
 Well, what of Eighteen Sixty-four, 
 As brief we trace its record o'er 
 What has it done to link to fame 
 By great and lasting deeds its name ? 
 
 Abroad, the men who rule at will. 
 
 Have set two people on to kill; 
 
 The Holsteiner and Dane have fought, 
 
 Yet who can tell what good it brought V 
 
 Somebody pays a round war tax, 
 
 For Louis Nap. to grind his axe. 
 
 In Mexico they've flopped about, 
 And Maximilian now they shout; 
 There Santa Anna had his day, 
 And Mirarnon and Juarez; 
 Their presidents are obsolete, 
 Crushed out beneath imperial feet.
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 151 
 
 What of the night at home ? How goes 
 The battle with our stubborn foes? 
 The year's experience opes a page 
 Which will go down to after age, 
 And wondering they'll ponder o'er 
 The great events of Sixty-four. 
 
 Ho! for the Wilderness ! and Grant 
 Flung out his banner, " en avant ! " 
 'Twere long to tell of that dread fray. 
 
 Where hand to hand the foeiuen stood, 
 No charging columns in array, 
 
 But ball and bayonet in the wood; 
 A dense and darkened atmosphere, 
 
 Where foes upspringing to the strife, 
 Out of the darkness would appear, 
 
 And fought lone-handed, life for life. 
 Long was the fight. The scythe of Death 
 
 Swept fearful through that gallant band, 
 And many a brave soul fell beneath 
 
 The star-gem'd banner of his land; 
 But victory crowned the patient deeds 
 
 Of men resolved to win or fall. 
 And Richmond saw our prancing steeds 
 
 And serried ranks before her wall. 
 
 In Shenandoah valley, where 
 
 The varying contests foes had waged, 
 Braving the rebel in his lair, 
 
 Phil. Sheridan the foe engaged; 
 Linked to historic fame, that vale 
 
 Will furnish long the thrilling tale, 
 Of war's great sacrifices made, 
 And life on patriot altar laid. 
 
 Atlanta held defiant sway, 
 A boasted rebel entrepot,
 
 152 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 Till Sherman turned his guns that way, 
 And soon his pride was humbled low. 
 Onward they moved, a chosen few, 
 Keeping unchecked their end in view, 
 Till on Savannah's lofty towers. 
 The stars and stripes proclaimed it ours. 
 
 Vain Hood on Nashville laid his eyes, 
 
 Resolved to capture by surprise; 
 
 Thomas would not be " Hood-winked" so, 
 
 But gave him a " ticket-of-leave " to go 
 
 And go he did with guns behind, 
 
 No longer for the fight inclined. 
 
 Bold Farragut, the brave old tar, 
 
 Who boss'd the fight, lashed to the spar, 
 
 Pluckily enters Mobile Bay, 
 
 And soon his cannon end the day, 
 
 And fort and fleet succumb, his prey. 
 
 But we no longer will rehearse 
 
 Heroic deeds in hasty verse: 
 
 We cannot paint each scene by scene 
 
 Which in the two years intervene: 
 
 Many the deeds unknown to fame, 
 
 Which gild a humble soldier's name; 
 
 Many a voice in death now still, 
 
 In hottest charge rung strong apd shrill. 
 
 Would that these gory days were past, 
 
 And we had seen of War the last, 
 
 Would that the hands now closed in hate 
 
 Again might clasp in friendly thrill, 
 And joined in Union, State by State, 
 
 Fraternal laws again fulfill. 
 
 0, darkest hour of fallen earth, 
 When men forget the ties of birth 
 When Passion's rule invokes a spell, 
 To make on earth another hell
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 153 
 
 When through a blind revenge is spurned 
 The good our fathers dearly earned, 
 And Civil War, Sin's darkest child, 
 O'er earth's best progress riots wild. 
 
 Our song is now ended kind patrons adieu, 
 We hope to our duty henceforth to be true; 
 We bid you good speed as you move on your way, 
 Your path strewed with blessings as day succeeds day, 
 And may a kind Providence so keep you here, 
 Your lives may be glorified in that blest sphere, 
 Where War shall no longer infuse its red leaven, 
 And victory mean the full triumph of Heaven. 
 
 1866 
 
 A New Year's call we come again 
 
 Kind patrons of the DAILY PRESS, 
 And offer you in humble strain 
 
 Our Happy New Year's brief Address; 
 And 'tis a Happy New Year now 
 
 To rich and poor, to old and young, 
 For on our Union's arch the bow 
 
 Of welcome Peace again is hung. 
 
 Four years of civil strife have run 
 
 Their fearful race, baptized in blood 
 How long it seems since War begun, 
 
 And brethren first as foemen stood ! 
 How mingled were our fears and hopes. 
 
 Till Sherman's march dissolved the spell, 
 And onward passed his gallant troops 
 
 Till Lee gave up and Richmond fell. 
 Then Grant confirmed with crooning grace 
 
 The people's trust in him reposed, 
 And standing in the conqueror's place, 
 
 With generous terms the struggle closed.
 
 154 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 Lincoln fell 'neath the assassin's stroke, 
 And a whole people mourned his fate, 
 
 A deed so foul at once awoke 
 In every breast a holy hate; 
 
 No grander tribute e'er was paid 
 
 Than that upon his coffin laid, 
 
 Proving, whatever may divide 
 
 The people, in their party pride, 
 
 They turn instinctive in their might, 
 
 When Wrong usurps the place of Right. 
 
 In Andrew Johnson now we hail 
 
 The patriot's hope, whate'er assail 
 
 Though Faction lifts its hydra head, 
 
 On just and equal laws to tread, 
 
 And clamors for continuous strife, 
 
 At peril of the Nation's life, 
 
 The statesman firm of Tennessee, 
 
 In footsteps of Old Hickory, 
 
 Stands squarely by the sacred chart, 
 
 So dear to every freeman's heart 
 
 The CONSTITUTION (grand bequest) 
 
 Which North, nor South, nor East, nor West, 
 
 Has different import to the State 
 
 Whose laws assent to its just weight. 
 
 Defender of this cause so just, 
 
 In Andy Johnson we will trust, 
 
 Hold up his hands with hopeful zeal, 
 
 Nor doubt that Time all griefs will heal. 
 
 John Bull has been our dear old friend 
 "Over the left," all through this fight, 
 
 Ready his guns and ships to send, 
 As " neutral " gifts with vast delight; 
 
 O, generous John; O, model court, 
 Rebellion's helping call to meet,
 
 CARISIEUS' NEW YEAH'S ADDRESSES. 155 
 
 Whose cruisers swarmed from every port, 
 
 To burn and sink our commerce fleet. 
 But soft, we hear a different strain, 
 
 As Fenian slogans ring afar, 
 John Bull cries loudly o'er the main, 
 
 Alarmed at Pat's "E pluribus bragh!" 
 
 At home the " Wearing of the Green" 
 
 Is fiercely banned by prison bars, 
 But Pat derides Bull's harmless spleen 
 
 Where float aloft the stripes and stars; 
 He shakes his pipe at Canada, 
 
 And Bull sends out his grenadiers, 
 And quaking crown and armed array 
 
 Attest the Briton's nervous fears. 
 What though in Tara's Halls not now, 
 Shall shamrock wreathe some kingly brow, 
 To speak for Ireland as of yore, 
 When her own blood the sceptre bore 
 What though divided counsels break 
 The link heart-forged for Erin's sake 
 Yet shall perfidious Albion feel 
 
 Forebodings of that coming day, 
 When Retribution's judgment peal 
 
 Shall echo from the Thames to Tay. 
 
 Europe's crowned heads have sent us o'er 
 A Maximilian to this shore; 
 He comes equipped with crown and seal, 
 Bearing Nap's " recommend " in steel; 
 When Jonathan the order signs, 
 To give Max Montezuma's mines, 
 'Twill then be time enough to blow 
 Nap's empire trump in Mexico. 
 
 But let him watch his new-found clime, 
 For Andy only bides his time;
 
 156 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 That time will come when banded hearts 
 Shall beat as one in all our marts, 
 And jealous of the good old rule, 
 Taught in our earlier statesmen's school, 
 Shall sweep like Marion's legions o'er, 
 And rout usurpers from the shore, 
 Where'er the people lift the cry 
 Of help from foreign tyranny. 
 
 Our City Home may justly claim 
 Some marked addition to her fame; 
 Since last our annual gift we bore, 
 VASSAR has opened wide her door, 
 Where woman finds on varied page 
 Grandest endowment of the age, 
 And fills, with recognition meet, 
 The limits of this classic seat, 
 Nor need there be complaint of want 
 Of Education's ample grant. 
 
 The kindly hand of woman lifts 
 The cloud of want by timely gifts, 
 And softens rugged Winter's reign 
 To shivering limbs and aching frame, 
 Work for the strong, care for the weak, 
 Dark homes with healing hands they seek. 
 
 1867. 
 
 We come with our offering again at your door, 
 The Old Year is passed, and the New Year before 
 Is tracing already, in light or in shade, 
 On all a deep impress that never can fade. 
 
 We pause on its threshold, with feelings subdued, 
 As backward we glance o'er the paths we have trod 
 A sheaf has been added to memory's store, 
 A year has been linked with the years gone before
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. li 
 
 In the chain of our being that mystical bond 
 Reaching back through all time to all time beyond, 
 As a parcel and part of Humanity's whole, 
 Where'er beats a pulse or looks upward a soul. 
 
 Each heart has its lingering places, more dear 
 
 To itself than all else, in the fast flying year ; 
 
 Each heart its own fountain of grief, welling o'er 
 
 For treasures now lost on that desolate shore ; 
 
 Its holiday promise to many has turned 
 
 A shadow of sadness for hopes darkly timed ; 
 
 To mortal experience the moral is sure, 
 
 Life's cup must be mingled while Time shall endure. 
 
 Yet who from this truth, alike to all blood, 
 
 Shall murmuring turn, though not understood, 
 
 Or doubt that all trials befalling us here, 
 
 For the best, in the sight of true wisdom appear, 
 
 Where the heart to itself and to others is true, 
 
 And to each and to all gives the Golden Rule due. 
 
 The land where our pride and affection belong, 
 May claim for a moment the theme of our song. 
 It has come from the furnace of trial erect, 
 No stain on its banner to dim self-respect ; 
 There shall still be one people intact, as of yore, 
 For the oppressed an asylum, from whatever shore, 
 With equal protection opportunity same 
 Shielded each and alike, of whatever name. 
 What though there still linger the leaven of hate, 
 To keep us antagonized state against state 
 What though clashing factions, hedged fierce in the way, 
 A union of hands and of hearts may delay, 
 Yet, softened by time, shall the enmity yield, 
 And fountains of national discord be sealed ; 
 Redeemed thus, more truly than ever 'twill be, 
 In homage to law, the blest " land of the free." 
 14
 
 158 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 Not alone on our shores lias the Demon of War, 
 Levied hosts to the fields to be crushed by his car, 
 And in the red van of fierce squadrons borne down 
 The scepter of state and the title of crown 
 Repeating the lesson oft taught us of yore, 
 That the test of the right is the mailed arm of power. 
 In the stern Prussian text of the Bonaparte creed, 
 The choice is a short one " submit or you bleed ! " 
 Whatever the cavil to work so begun, 
 One thing is quite certain with promptness 'twas done, 
 Enforcing the rnaxim which sometimes is right, 
 "What your hands find to do, to do with your might." 
 Let us hope that these changes, so costly in blood, 
 May bring to the people a harvest of good, 
 Though stern be the discipline, out of the fire 
 Oft comes the ordeal that nations require, 
 To fit them to work for that era of mind, 
 When men shall uplift, and not drag down,^their kind. 
 
 O'er the soil of our Mexican neighbor the sword 
 
 Is flashing in conflict, and cannon are heard, 
 
 Imperial armies still rule his domain, 
 
 Though met in fierce conflict on many a plain, 
 
 Where national memories kindle his zeal, 
 
 To drive back invaders at point of the steel ; 
 
 Will he triumph ? Who doubts, tho' long has his race 
 
 Been plundered by robbers, installed in high place, 
 
 His industry crippled his labor a doubt 
 
 His ruler thrown up on the last rabble's shout, 
 
 To have and to hold in his greed, because brief, 
 
 'Till the next stronger faction sets up a new chief. 
 
 Yet while bitter factions may hinder the day 
 
 When a foreign crowned prince shall forfeit his sway, 
 
 A will that is born of a nation's great need, 
 
 When struggling with foes, rarely fails to succeed.
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 159 
 
 All quiet in Ireland ! so reads the report, 
 
 Of censors who speak in behalf of the court; 
 
 All quiet in Ireland ! Perhaps it is so, 
 
 Fate rules that not yet is the time for the blow ; 
 
 But the muttering thunder has not been in vain, 
 
 Though dying away it may yet boom again. 
 
 Let the Rulers beware, and with equity steer, 
 
 Ere the ghost of " Boroi'hme " again shall appear ; 
 
 Let them temper with mercy and more equal law, 
 
 Their national dealings with " Erin go bragh ! " 
 
 Strung through the far ocean depths, marvellous link ! 
 
 Its message performed in a flash or a wink, 
 
 A lightning conductor, the two worlds between, 
 
 The CABLE its mysteiy works out unseen ; 
 
 Of all the world's wonders, on history's page, 
 
 This conquest will lead as the pride of the age. 
 
 We close with our errand, kind readers, once more, 
 Hoping still with our DAILY to call at your door ; 
 May the shadows of evil which fall on your way, 
 By true hearts be lightened and brief be their stay, 
 Till, past the uncertainties bounding us here, 
 May you find an eternally Happy New Year ! 
 
 1868. 
 
 A Happy New Year ! is the voice of to-day, 
 
 Ringing cheerily out from the hurrying throng, 
 And joining the chorus our tribute we pay 
 
 To all our kind patrons in annual song. 
 How rapid the tide of Old Time since our call, 
 
 A twelve-month agone, was made at your door, 
 How the weeks and the months, from winter to fall, 
 
 Have sped quickly on to another year's shore. 
 
 We part with the Old and we welcome the New, 
 With friendly salute, and with festival cheer
 
 160 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 Let us pause for a moment, in rapid review 
 Of events strongly marked on the fast fading year. 
 
 The nations of the Old World keep 
 
 With little change their wonted way ; 
 Their " war-dogs " now, in muzzled sleep, 
 
 No longer track through blood their prey ; 
 Yet, with a watchful eye, each King, 
 
 Keeps border lookout for his foe, 
 Lest, like a panther's sudden spring, 
 
 An invader strike a hostile blow. 
 
 Old Johnny Bull is in a stew, 
 
 Bothered by Fenian buccaneers, 
 He hardly knows what first to do, 
 
 So many stories reach his ears : 
 Now Guy Fawkes plots, all snugly laid. 
 
 Set Johnny's eye-balls all astare 
 Explosive letters next have made 
 
 To rise, on stiffened end, his hair, 
 Johnny ! there 's a lesson true, 
 
 You should no longer disregard, 
 For sure it now comes home to you 
 
 " The way of the transgressor 's hard." 
 
 A passing cloud o'er Italy 
 
 Awoke the breath of war to life ; 
 It failed and there again we see 
 
 An end of internecine strife. 
 O'er Crete's fair island Turkish wrong 
 
 Has carried rapine, sword and fire 
 The weak swept down before the strong, 
 
 The babe, the mother and the sire. 
 Yet slow the tyrant's power to crush 
 
 The patriot struggling for his home, 
 Though war's red flame may o'er him rush, 
 
 He bravely stands amid the gloom ;
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 161 
 
 The stag, when brought to bay, will turn 
 
 In furious struggle with his foe, 
 And this may the oppressor learn, 
 
 Where'er he strikes a dastard blow. 
 
 O'er Mexico no longer waves 
 
 The banner of imperial power, 
 For sleep they now in martial graves 
 
 Who ruled in regal state their hour ; 
 The invader's foot, deep-tracked in blood, 
 
 Is swept from Montezuma's Hall, 
 And where his flaunting legions stood 
 
 Now stand the legions of the soil. 
 Yet waits there still the reign of law 
 
 For civic rights protection due 
 The firmness which should overawe 
 
 Each plunder-led guerilla crew. 
 Perchance e'en there shall Science, Art, 
 
 And Labor, win enduring fame 
 Commerce may find its ship-thronged mart, 
 
 And make in fact what 's but in name. 
 
 Now homeward let us turn the eye, 
 
 Where far Atlantic rolls its shore 
 What do the year's events supply 
 
 Of note, to swell our carrier's store. 
 We've stretched our borders far to north, 
 
 Where polar bears and icebergs roam, 
 Seven millions plump in gold 'twas worth 
 
 At least we had to plank that sum. 
 Down where the gulf stream holds its course, 
 
 One of West India's sea-girt isles, 
 Where earthquakes madly spend their force, 
 
 St. Thomas, looks on us and smiles. 
 And Cuba, proud Castilia's queen. 
 
 Is only waiting for the " rocks," 
 To hand us o'er her island green
 
 162 CAKRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 The key which gulf-way trade unlocks. 
 A better way than that of old, 
 
 Which now your neighbor's land secures 
 When knocks were used instead of gold 
 
 Harsh threats instead of " kindly yours " 
 We rob nowadays in gentler style, 
 
 For Uncle Sam's gold box we tap, 
 And pick up here and there an Isle, 
 
 To add unto our country's map. 
 
 A " reconstruction peace " now reigns, 
 
 After a fashion modern quite 
 When Brother Sambo best explains 
 
 The plan to mix up black and white. 
 His genius regulates the code 
 
 For States once holding high renown 
 For legal lore of men the abode 
 
 Who bravely fought with Washington. 
 Out of the gloom let us, hopeful still, 
 
 Trust there will rise to save the land, 
 Men who nobly their places will fill, 
 
 And link with their efforts a patriot band. 
 
 A Happy New Year ! we will utter again, 
 To the friends who have kindly remembered our toil, 
 
 A year may it be, unshadowed with pain, 
 A year whose review shall be pleasant to all. 
 
 1869. 
 
 The rolling months have brought again 
 The season of our annual call 
 
 We come to wish, in humble strain, 
 A Happy New Year to you all. 
 
 A Happy New Year ! how they roll ! 
 
 These circlets of Old Father Time 
 Speeding our footsteps to that goal 
 
 We heed but lightly in life's prime.
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 163 
 
 Farewell Old Year with locks of white, 
 
 Your faltering steps and wrinkled hrow, 
 And shadows deepening into night, 
 
 The same old story tell us now. 
 
 While pausing on your utmost verge, 
 
 Thought travels o'er your changeful way, 
 And Time, with muffled tongue, your dirge 
 
 Is tolling out. Let us list the lay: 
 
 Old Year! have you kept the promise you made, 
 When, a twelvemonth since our tribute we paid 
 To the incoming year, with its beaming eye, 
 And " castles of air " adorning the sky ? 
 
 Have visions you painted in rainbow's hues 
 All vanished from earth like morning dews ?' 
 Have silvery words from your flattering tongue 
 Died like echoes of song, on the night-air flung ? 
 
 Have hopes that you raised turned into despair, 
 The day-dreams of youth into anxious care ? 
 Have you ruthlessly crushed the drooping flower 
 And the bending reed, with a tyrant's power? 
 
 Old Year 1 Old Year ! in your casket to-day 
 How many rich jewels are hidden away ! 
 And our eyes are now turned to the glory-clad shore, 
 Where these polished gems shall fade nevermore. 
 
 You shattered our idols and deep was the blow, 
 You led us in paths we were shrinking to go : 
 Ah ! well, if when tasting the bitterest draught, 
 The waters of healing they proved, as we quaffed. 
 
 For blessings and mercies renewed day by day, 
 For guidance and strength in a devious way, 
 For every good gift from a kind Father's hand, 
 With thankful emotions our hearts should expand.
 
 164 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 And oh ! as the record is made up on high, 
 Of failures and faults in the year now gone by, 
 For us may some guardian angel appear, 
 To blot from remembrance with cancelling tear. 
 
 Farewell, dying year ! For we meet nevermore, 
 Your sunlight is dim on the fast fading shore; 
 Reviewing your path, smiles mingle with tears, 
 Pass on to the list of the long-vanished years. 
 
 And now with a welcome we turn to the new, 
 To the hopes and the trials its coming may bring; 
 
 Whatever its pathway now hidden from view, 
 May strength for the duty abundantly spring. 
 
 Sustained in high purpose to battle with Wrong, 
 Inspired by the courage allied to the Right, 
 
 Let the lesson be heeded each household among 
 What our hands find to do, let us do with our might. 
 
 Our voices to-day shall be tuned to glad cheer, 
 And lively emotions enkindle each heart, 
 
 For festival tokens become tb.6 New Year, 
 As on its diversified journey we start. 
 
 Let us garland its hours with blossoms of hope, 
 Never borrow concern over uncertain ill, 
 
 Resolved with its trials to manfully cope, 
 And meet all its crosses with resolute will. 
 
 We live in an era when mind must be quick 
 To meet and to master the problems of life 
 
 When startling events are crowding us thick, 
 And salient issues with conflict are rife. 
 
 Far away does the echo of turbulent sounds 
 Break out 'neath the pressure of tyrannous power, 
 
 And, driving to counsel the fear-stricken crowns, 
 Now burden with anxious emotions the hour.
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 165 
 
 Yet the wisdom to rule not the patience to bear 
 Is the want of mankind, now than ever more clear; 
 
 For the ruled, let the rulers have generous care. 
 And the cloud now uprising would soon disappear. 
 
 Turn homeward our glance, and our hope will not fail, 
 That our nation again shall resume its high state, 
 
 When conflicts, that now its reunion assail, 
 Shall yield to the spirit which conquers all hate. 
 
 When hand unto hand, and each heart unto heart, 
 No longer distrusting, unfriendly will feel, 
 
 But in all our wide limits shall act the true part, 
 And catch the old spirit with mutual zeal. 
 
 Our task shall now end, with a wish for you all, 
 Kind patrons, whom daily our footsteps attend, 
 
 That the lines of your household, wherever they fall, 
 With peace and prosperity ever may blend ; 
 
 Each New Year may add to the sum of all good, 
 Each trial be followed with consequent gain, 
 
 And amply with happiest blessings endued, 
 
 We may meet you approved on a New Year again. 
 
 1870. 
 
 Another New Year now calls for our rhyme, 
 A year rounded by a new decade of Time; 
 We come with our annual song of good cheer, 
 Wishing each wishing all a Happy New Year. 
 
 The old had its mission its good and its ill 
 Its joys to enliven, its sorrows to chill; 
 What hopes it has withered 'tis not ours to show, 
 For the heart its own bitterness only can know. 
 Along its dim shore many a bark has gone down, 
 Whose sails were unfurled in a heart-lighted zone,
 
 166 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 Rich laden with treasures no wealth could e'er buy, 
 
 And leaving a want which time ne'er can supply; 
 
 For whate'er we add to the sum of our bliss, 
 
 Can ne'er fill the void of the dear ones we miss, 
 
 And no broken tie but jars sad on the heart. 
 
 For its answering chord can no new one impart. 
 
 Yet no sky wears ever its draping of gloom, 
 
 And no waste so sterile as never to bloom; 
 
 In each rounded day, if but rightly divined, 
 
 No heart so o'er cast but some sunlight will find, 
 
 Some motive to action, new strength to sustain. 
 
 When burdens grow heavy from life's weary strain. 
 
 Thus, like summer landscape, when passing clouds play, 
 
 Do sunshine and shadow alternate our way; 
 
 Brood not o'er the problem, for wise purpose given, 
 
 'Till " the Temple of God shall be opened in heaven." 
 
 And now, o'er another year parted we stand, 
 
 Its record to note of our own native land. 
 
 Abundance has crowned the resources of earth, 
 
 And Pestilence far has been kept from the hearth; 
 
 In wide fields of labor the strong hand of toil 
 
 Has reaped its reward from the generous soil, 
 
 And not less hath the skill of the artisan, 
 
 In creative power its due recompense won; 
 
 The varied blessings, which so many miss 
 
 In less favored lands, have been poured upon this. 
 
 Change now this fair picture to matters of State, 
 And look o'er a land ruled by sectional hate 
 The graspings of power, guided only by force 
 In reaching its aims, riding rough-shod its course 
 States made or unmade, as a faction may need, 
 Dividing, ejecting, to suit party greed ; 
 The ermine struck downward and made to succumb 
 To Congressional Catalines crouching and dumb ! 
 Ah ! well would it be, if the rulers and ruled,
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 167 
 
 In the spirit which governed our fathers were schooled; 
 Then agaiu would we see in one brotherhood link, 
 In prosperous union, all enmities sink. 
 And hear the glad paean, from shore unto shore, 
 "The peacemaker's mission is joyously o'er." 
 
 Unsettled and restive, across the blue main, 
 The masses are struggling to throw off the chain, 
 In the "long ago" forged, to make monarchy strong, 
 When peoples were taught that Kings ne'er could do wrong. 
 The red fields of war have not saddened the eye, 
 On Europe's fair plains, in the year just gone by; 
 But the long fretting discord goes steadily on 
 To a final result, between subject and crown. 
 
 The cliffs of Old England Lave beat Sack the surge, 
 For ages assailed by the storm's angry dirge; 
 But a foe more unyielding now meets the proud front 
 Of regal tradition, nor quails in the brunt; 
 'Tis the ripened conviction of resolute men, 
 Demanding Reform, both with bold speech and pen, 
 'Tis Ireland's just call, in her plundered estate, 
 Long slighted, yet doomed not much longer to wait, 
 For Ministries changed, in the war against wrong, 
 Betoken a time when the weak shall be strong. 
 
 France hears the loud tokens of popular hate 
 
 Of absolute sway, in her halls of debate; 
 
 In her streets, in her workshops, the leavening thought 
 
 That men should be free, is now fearlessly taught. 
 "The Empire is Peace," said a voice from the throne 
 
 Where bayonets sustain it, no peace can be known; 
 " The Empire's concession," is the voice of to-day, 
 
 Lest palaces tremble again in the fray. 
 
 Through the sterile old wastes of the Orient realm 
 A channel is bearing the commerce-bound helm;
 
 168 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 Two seas, like the Siamese Twins, are now wed, 
 The Mediterranean linked with the Red; 
 A triumph of skill Low the dark-browed Turk 
 Must revolve in his mind this wonderful work, 
 And the swart sons of Egypt, with new kindled life, 
 See stagnant old deserts with commerce now rife, 
 While harem and mosque, hear the on-coming tread 
 Of a power more transforming than Bonaparte led. 
 
 Ring out for poor Cuba the well-wishing strain, 
 
 Beset as she is by the minions of Spain; 
 
 In the land of George Washington hers was the right 
 
 To words of good cheer in her glorious fight 
 
 To the moral effect of a strong- spoken word, 
 
 When the White House in message with Congress conferred. 
 
 Has she found it? Ah, no ! but been coldly repelled, 
 
 Our ship-yards her enemy's navy has swelled, 
 
 While our one-sided rulers with hostile parade, 
 
 Through vigilant spies have denied them all aid; 
 
 In time long to come will the story be told 
 
 That Cuba had nothing the Spaniards had gold. 
 
 From scenes far away we now turn in adieu, 
 Nor weary you more with our hurried review ; 
 Let us welcome the New Year with earnest intent, 
 That in higher endeavor its days shall be spent, 
 That in all its surroundings of home, by our aid, 
 Each rising of strife shall be gently allayed, 
 Each burden divided, to lessen its weight, 
 Sustained by the lesson, whatever our fate, 
 That the noblest example on earth ever given, 
 Left " altars of sacrifice" nearest to heaven. 
 And thus will the passage of Time but unfold, 
 More clearly to vision, what never grows old, 
 That the soul rightly kept on its mission while here, 
 Will find in all changes a HAPPY NEW YEAR.
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 169 
 
 1871. 
 
 We stand on the threshold of seventy-one 
 How swiftly the seasons their circuit have run ! 
 A year has been dropped in the tonib of the past, 
 Since your carriers called on their song- visit last 
 A year, let us hope that to you has been fraught 
 With much more to gladden than sadden the thought. 
 
 Each year has its record unshared as its own, 
 
 As Nature and Life by their changes are known 
 
 Some salient features of virtue or crime, 
 
 That specially mark it in eras of Time ; 
 
 And in the review of another one fled, 
 
 Our thoughts let us fix 011 its eventful tread. 
 
 To kingdoms and peoples, across the broad main, 
 The New Year has come under war's fearful strain ; 
 An empire has fallen an Empire been made ! 
 How glaring the " whirligigs of Time " are displayed ! 
 The reign of o'erreaching ambition, uncrowned, 
 Was hurled in the height of its pride to the ground ; 
 Fair fields plowed by cannon, running over with blood, 
 Now show where, embattled, vast armies have stood ; 
 Relentless and savage, traditional hate, 
 By Zouave and Uhlan have worked out its fate ; 
 The hearth-stones of nations engaged in this strife, 
 Show the cost of crowned heads is the current of life, 
 And desolate homesteads, where want rules the day, 
 And mourning their lost ones, grow thick in the fray. 
 
 O, saddest of aspects, when war's brutal force, 
 To settle disputes, is the only recourse ; 
 How paltry the glory of satisfied lust, 
 Which rears up its idol on human hearts crushed, 
 When pride, through the bloody carnival of war, 
 Fiercely burns to extend its dominion afar. 
 15
 
 170 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 How slow are the rulers of Europe to heed 
 The historic moral of diadem greed 1 
 
 Reaching out, reaching out, with coveting hand, 
 And flimsiest pretext, for some neighbor's land. 
 
 Yet who shall the limits assign to events, 
 
 Or to day draw the scope of its mate a year hence ? 
 
 The darkness pervading the primeval hour, 
 
 By the bursting of light was debarred of its power, 
 
 So 'neath the dark cloud where the masses now tread, 
 
 Will their gospel of higher condition be read ; 
 
 Nor vainly for liberty shall they aspire, 
 
 Though their pathway lead through a baptism of fire, 
 
 Yet the sword shall be sheathed, war's terrors shall cease, 
 
 And all shall acknowledge the blessings of peace. 
 
 A beautiful island, and not far away, 
 
 Where sparklings of sunlight on ocean waves play, 
 
 Where buds of the orange, the lemon, and lime, 
 
 Are types of the beauty of soil and of clime, 
 
 By the minions of Spanish oppression beset, 
 
 Still with the life-blood of its children is wet, 
 
 While, ravaged and wasted, its once fertile fields 
 
 No longer their tribute to industry yields ; 
 
 Our neighbors they are, yet with coldness of mien, 
 
 Our rulers no comfort or aid intervene, 
 
 And while our Republican cheer they invoke, 
 
 Their pleadings pass only through vistas of smoke ! 
 
 From climes thus entrarnineled by tyranny's hand, 
 Let us turn now with joy to our own native land, 
 Whose spreading domain is a heritage free 
 Of a people who bend to no tyrant the knee. 
 In the year just departed our land has beenjslest 
 In a measure that gladdens each patriot breast; 
 Of its fruits, let us mention, with national pride, 
 That State unto State has been closer allied,
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 171 
 
 That union of feeling, resuming the sway, 
 
 To closer fraternity ushers the way, 
 
 When a union of hearts with a union of hands 
 
 Shall strengthen its claim as the hope of all lands. 
 
 Nor can we, while counting the gains of the year, 
 
 Unmindful pass over its promises here 
 
 Here to our fair city, now bound with new bands 
 
 To the people and homes which the iron now spans; 
 
 To the zeal and the enterprise, working with will 
 
 To open new channels for traffic to fill, 
 
 In the signs of home progress now meeting the eye, 
 
 New sources of comfort and health to supply, 
 
 The words of approval which fairly belong, 
 
 Let us freely accord in our carrier song. 
 
 And now to our patrons few words we address: 
 
 Our thanks for your aid in sustaining the PRESS; 
 
 Through you it must nourish through you must our cause 
 
 Gain converts to cherish our freedom and laws. 
 
 A new page is opening of Time, may it be, 
 
 In all its recordings to thine and to thee, 
 
 New sources of pleasure new help from above 
 
 To weave round its duties the garland of love, 
 
 So when it shall in its December appear, 
 
 'Twill have been to you all A Happy New Year ! 
 
 1872. 
 
 Your carrier's call for Seventy-two 
 A Happy New Year this to you ! 
 Heaven grant its daily course may be 
 From dark misfortune wholly free, 
 That gathering hope and strength, you may 
 Tread with light heart life's roughest way, 
 Filled with a sense of present good, 
 By each returning sun renewed.
 
 172 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 A year dies out, and backward thought 
 Takes up the lessons it has taught; 
 And, as in shrouded state it lies. 
 While Nature pays lier obsequies, 
 As midnight orbs look glittering down 
 On mantled earth with snow bestrewn, 
 We catch the spirit of the truth 
 That Time must pass to age from youth 
 That Death in his appointed hour, 
 Will over all assert his power 
 To parting year, or loved at home. 
 Its summons once to all must come. 
 
 We turn to foreign lands to read 
 
 The records of the year just passed 
 Do they the lesson wisely heed 
 
 Of bitter feuds in battle cast ? 
 The clouds of war no longer brood 
 O'er devastated fields and homes, 
 And peace now reigns o'er dwellings rude, 
 
 O'er marts of trade and palace domes; 
 Yet lingering still, resentful fires 
 
 Are burning 'neath their ashes gray, 
 While dwells the thought with sons and sires, 
 
 Revenge but waits its ripened day; 
 And still does crowned exaction strip 
 
 The masses of their daily toil, 
 Watching the favored hour to slip 
 
 Their " war-dogs" on some neighbor's soil. 
 
 Soon will the drama change yes, soon, 
 ' " Vox POPULI vox I)EI " be 
 
 The light of an effulgent noon 
 To disenthralled humanity; 
 And then shall come the era new, 
 
 When sceptered power and rights of caste
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 173 
 
 No longer shall endow the few, 
 
 And leave the rest in bondage fast 
 When greed of conquest, born of kings, 
 
 Shall be a branded, unknown aim, 
 Squelched by a brotherhood which brings 
 
 In oneness all of every name. 
 
 The Old World rests from war's alarms, 
 
 But in the New, the clash of arms 
 
 And raging factions, curse the lands 
 
 Now reddened by contending bands. 
 
 Cuba still wears a foreign yoke, 
 
 And pleading looks through battle smoke; 
 
 Her lands by ruffian hands are bared, 
 
 And neither age nor sex is spared. 
 
 Gem of the Antilles! shall the cry, 
 
 Of thy long years of agony, 
 
 Awake at last the sympathy 
 
 Of those who struggled once like thee 
 Who found at last an outstretched hand, 
 Reached to them from a foreign band, 
 Ready to help a struggling land 
 
 Become from iron bondage free! 
 
 " Pizzaro's conquest," once begun 
 
 In Mexico, is never done; 
 
 Still schemes of conquest rule the land, 
 
 A chief in each guerilla band, 
 
 While sharp beset, poor Juarez 
 
 Is like a hunted stag at bay, 
 
 And all around, the bristling pack, 
 
 For change of rule, is on his track. 
 
 Southern Republics run to fight, 
 Like insects to an evening's light 
 And, learning nothing, quick return, 
 To revel in another burn!
 
 174 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 What burlesque this, on popular rule 
 The jingling bells and cap of fool 
 Should hang above each chair of State, 
 From Mexico to Rio Le Plate! 
 
 We turn our vision homeward now 
 
 What of the year in our own clime, 
 Where proudly spans the promise bow, 
 
 To welcome all of every clime. 
 With ample store has Nature's yield 
 Crowned labor in the harvest field; 
 Through all the avenues of trade 
 Has flowed for all substantial aid; 
 Much to uplift the thankful soul 
 
 Now retrospects the thoughtful gaze, 
 As standing at the old years goal 
 
 We look back on its buried days; 
 No Nation blessed as ours has been, 
 Should fail to keep in memory green, 
 A conscious sense of gratitude 
 For vital gifts each year renewed; 
 Not here should base corruption show 
 Its baneful upas, sweeping low 
 Not here should public trust be made 
 A gift to use in venal trade; 
 Where much is given, a rule inspired 
 Asserts, that much will be required; 
 If, honored thus, our Nation stands 
 In proud precedence of all lands, 
 Her beacon-lights should purely burn, 
 
 And throw their radiance far and wide, 
 That others, seeing them, may learn 
 
 Safely their storm-bound ships to guide. 
 
 A startled nation hears the cry * 
 As swift the fearful rumors fly, 
 That a great city, central mart 
 
 * Fire at Chicago.
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAK'S ADDRESSES. 175 
 
 Of commerce, literature and art, 
 Beneath a fiery deluge lay, 
 Helpless and crushed within a day; 
 While from the Northern forests came* 
 Tidings alike of wasting flame, 
 Where fellow mortals strove in vain, 
 From circling fire a goal to gain. 
 Not narrowed down, by clime or creed, 
 Came noble cheer in word and deed, 
 For the broad heart of human kin, 
 These stricken ones took helping in. 
 
 Not shortened is the lofty thought, 
 
 As taught us by the poet's line, 
 When thus to our conviction brought 
 
 Something there is in all divine; 
 The moral of the battle-field, 
 
 But teaches passion's willful course, 
 And slight the sum of all revealed 
 
 In public life, but selfish force; 
 But in this great responsive sight, 
 
 The Golden Rule impulsive owned, 
 We recognize in clearer light 
 
 A heaven-born sentiment enthroned. 
 
 Patrons, we close. There is, 'tis said, 
 
 " An end to all things under sun," 
 And you may think our rhyming spread 
 
 As effort past this rule to run. 
 As on the New Year now you tread, 
 
 A happy season to each one, 
 So may you gather from its store, 
 
 Of all that leaves a real good, 
 Fuller than all that years before 
 
 Upon your onward path have strewed. 
 
 * Forest fires at Peshtigo.
 
 176 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 1877 
 
 " How swift the seasons come and go ! 
 These years of ours in silent flow 
 Marking their coming and their flight, 
 Now seen, now vanished from the sight 
 The same as when, in Eden's prime, 
 Man first stood on the shores of Time, 
 Unchanged, though peoples and their place 
 Have vanished from the Earth's broad face - 
 Alike to every human heart, 
 Since Time unrolled its mystic chart, 
 Some cause to mourn, some hope to cheer, 
 The moral of the Opening Year. 
 
 A New Year ! and the past one old, 
 Its mission closed, its requiem tolled, 
 The one of present use and thought, 
 The other ended and forgot ? 
 Not this the meaning of the break 
 Which only changing figures make; 
 Our life, in many a clasp, linked close, 
 No such division ever knows; 
 Treasures there are which grow not old, 
 And links which never lose their hold; 
 The patient toilers by our side, 
 In life's hard battles often tried, 
 The self-forgetful hearts that find 
 In others' good their own entwined, 
 In daily duties, trusting love, 
 A joy and hope all else above 
 These grow not old, but brighter burn, 
 As Time's dividing dates return, 
 Nor change nor seasons ever know, 
 Save as they more divinely grow. 
 
 There's greeting for the New Year now 
 A timely wish, and great its need;
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 177 
 
 As breaks the sun o'er mountain brow, 
 
 O may its gifts bring light indeed 
 Light to cheer up the darkened homes, 
 
 Where willing toil lacks answering prayer, 
 Such reassuring light as comes 
 
 After long vigils with despair; 
 For weary now the burden lies 
 
 On many a hearth beneath a cloud, 
 Where shortened means and scant supplies, 
 
 Make drear the time of winter's shroud. 
 
 A New Year for the Nation, too 
 
 A higher grade of public life 
 A patriot thrill the country through, 
 
 To cure the curse of selfish strife; 
 Not this the soil where perjured lust 
 
 For power and place ignobly won 
 Not here success, through venal trust, 
 
 Should rear its head and justice shun. 
 
 And how shall poet pen unfold 
 
 The monstrous evil of our time, 
 The right of suffrage swapped for gold, 
 
 The shameless, while the deepest, crime; 
 This priceless boon of manhood, wrung 
 
 From tyrant hands, beyond all cost, 
 To scheming knaves is idly flung, 
 
 As worthless thing and cheaply lost. 
 
 Voices from out the past are heard, 
 
 Rising above the Babel hue, 
 And as we list the pulse is stirred, 
 
 For they who speak were tried and true ; 
 Tried in the furnace where the soul 
 
 Showed the pure stamp of patriotism, 
 No half-heart service, but the whole, 
 
 Above all narrow creed or schism ;
 
 178 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 A retrospect beyond compare, 
 
 In all that makes a nation grand 
 Shall we not heed this voice afar, 
 
 Re-echoed from a later band, 
 And in its patriotic strain, 
 
 Great memories invoke once more, 
 The while we may renew again 
 
 Our birthright pride, now humbled sore ? 
 
 Home of our Washington ! we turn 
 
 Far back to other days our ken, 
 And there in glorious light discern, 
 
 A band of Earth's true noblemen 
 Adams, Monroe and Madison, 
 
 And kindred Monticello's sage, 
 And he who led our armies on 
 
 The Hero of the Hermitage ; 
 Deep-thoughted Webster, gallant Clay, 
 
 And Calhoun, worthy triune band 
 0, shall we see another day, 
 
 When men like these shall guide the land ? 
 
 Not in despair we close the page, 
 
 Our country is destined to fill, 
 For Providence in every age 
 
 Has shaped the nations to His will, 
 And out of all this chaos dire, 
 
 Faith sees the upward rising morn, 
 When selfish schemers shall retire, 
 
 And Freedom sanctified return. 
 
 A Happy New Year patrons, friends, 
 A year to you of means to ends, 
 Brighter and better yet than all 
 It has been to your lot to fall. 
 To little children, with their eyes 
 Warm as the gleam of tropic skies ;
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 179 
 
 To maidens fair, the loving, loved, 
 In all the grace of sex approved, 
 To woman with her meed of care, 
 To youth and manhood everywhere, 
 And age with hopes not anchored here, 
 The wish of many a glad New Year. 
 
 1878. 
 
 A buried year ! One more complete 
 
 One more sealed up beyond recall 
 Before Time's new born heir we greet, 
 
 'Tis well to muse how much of all 
 It brought to shape our life and hope, 
 
 How much of Memory's garnered store 
 Came to our lot within its scope, 
 
 That we should scan its record o'er. 
 Whate'er it holds of grief or joy, 
 
 Of light or shade, to mark its flight, 
 Reflective thought may find employ, 
 
 And profit if we read aright ; 
 For Time unravels mystery's skein. 
 
 Unfolds the problem dark at first, 
 Lifts and relieves the heavy strain 
 
 From hearts in sorrow long immersed. 
 The vessel, long by tempest tossed. 
 
 Glad spreads its wings to favoring gales, 
 And fading hopes or substance lost, 
 
 In time may find renewed avails. 
 
 " Unfading Hope," great boon of life, 
 Whose bow of promise ever spans 
 
 The rugged scenes of earthly strife, 
 And brightens e'en our humblest plans. 
 
 So came of old, in Palestine, 
 To chosen followers of the Lord,
 
 180 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 The lesson of a love divine, 
 
 Their future steps to guide and guard ; 
 The shadow of the cross was flung 
 
 O'er Jesus, and His " hour had come," 
 As came the words no mortal tongue 
 
 But His, could speak 'neath heaven's high dome 
 " What I do, now thou knowest not," 
 
 I tread a lonely pathway here, 
 But light shall bless your lowly lot 
 
 " Hereafter " shall it all be clear. 
 
 O, bless'd " HEREAFTER," talisman 
 
 Not to Judean plains confined 
 A gift in its far-reaching span 
 
 Embracing all of human kind; 
 To all there comes a trial hour, 
 
 Through which we only pass aright, 
 By seeking humbly for the power 
 
 To " walk by faith and not by sight." 
 
 The years in ever changeful tread, 
 
 Are mirrors to the thoughtful mind, 
 That "seeks the living 'mong the dead," 
 
 Some consolation sweet to find: 
 Nor vain the quest, for treasured there 
 
 Are records we can ne'er forget, 
 Some blossoming seasons brightly where 
 
 The dew of morning lingers yet. 
 
 The thickest clouds but brief o'erspread 
 
 The joyful light of heaven's own blue, 
 And paths of conflict which we tread 
 
 Are but the mould of manhood true; 
 What though we fail to see the end, 
 
 When duty .calls to painful work 
 Not then before the Wrong to bend, 
 
 Not then the Right to basely shirk;
 
 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 181 
 
 The victor's crowu is poor indeed. 
 
 Stained by a single flagrant wrong, 
 And justly hold this honored meed 
 
 But few of all earth's worshipped throng; 
 The heroes ou the shore of Time, 
 
 Are not in self ambition bred 
 Not made so on the fields of crime, 
 
 Though such by fame oft heralded; 
 Obscure their station, all unknown 
 
 Save by the One whose name is Love, 
 Their pathway often sad and lone. 
 
 Like His, who marked the way above; 
 But though life's trial seasons now, 
 
 May often cause the heart to bleed 
 The " crown of thorns " still gird the brow. 
 
 'Neath burdens borne for others' need 
 Lose not ilie lesson of the past. 
 
 Now speaking from departed days, 
 That sunny seasons overcast 
 
 t'ame bright with joy's returning rays; 
 The future meet in hopeful trust, 
 
 Each day in holy faith renewed, 
 Led by the promise "all things must 
 
 Together work for highest good.'' 
 
 Bright be the New Year's gifts to you, 
 
 Friends to whose doors we've daily come, 
 Its joys be many, griefs be few, 
 
 That fall upon your earthly home; 
 Gather still closer in the way, 
 
 That fosters in the household band, 
 The warm affections noblest play 
 
 Life's journey travel hand in hand. 
 Happy the lesson has been taught 
 
 " If solid happiness you prize," 
 It need not far away be sought, 
 
 " Within each breast the jewel lies." 
 16
 
 182 CARRIERS' NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSES. 
 
 A Happy New Year ! pause we uow, 
 
 Repeating thus the greeting old 
 We backward look on what we know 
 
 Ah ! who the future can unfold ! 
 We know not what a day may bring, 
 
 Much less our knowledge what a year, 
 The morning's brilliant coloring, 
 
 In darkening clouds may disappear: 
 Or, all reversed, our fears at dawn 
 
 May merge in peace and pleasantness, 
 Our sharp unrest be all withdrawn, 
 
 A quiet calm our soul posses?. 
 Imperial Time holds steady sway, 
 
 In order close the days and weeks, 
 Bright eyes grow dim and locks turn gray, 
 
 And change each living form bespeaks; 
 Be yours the portion, so that when, 
 
 As now, December's latest day 
 Shall usher New Year's morn again, 
 
 Life's brightest hopes may gild your way.
 
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