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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3132-0.txt b/3132-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dd620f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/3132-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3560 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of In the Wilderness, by Charles Dudley Warner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: In the Wilderness + +Author: Charles Dudley Warner + +Release Date: August 22, 2006 [EBook #3132] +Last Updated: February 24, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE WILDERNESS *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +IN THE WILDERNESS + +By Charles Dudley Warner + + + +CONTENTS: + + HOW I KILLED A BEAR + LOST IN THE WOODS + A FIGHT WITH A TROUT + A-HUNTING OF THE DEER + A CHARACTER STUDY (Old Phelps) + CAMPING OUT + A WILDERNESS ROMANCE + WHAT SOME PEOPLE CALL PLEASURE + + + + +I. HOW I KILLED A BEAR + +So many conflicting accounts have appeared about my casual encounter +with an Adirondack bear last summer that in justice to the public, to +myself, and to the bear, it is necessary to make a plain statement of +the facts. Besides, it is so seldom I have occasion to kill a bear, that +the celebration of the exploit may be excused. + +The encounter was unpremeditated on both sides. I was not hunting for +a bear, and I have no reason to suppose that a bear was looking for me. +The fact is, that we were both out blackberrying, and met by chance, the +usual way. There is among the Adirondack visitors always a great deal of +conversation about bears,--a general expression of the wish to see one +in the woods, and much speculation as to how a person would act if he or +she chanced to meet one. But bears are scarce and timid, and appear only +to a favored few. + +It was a warm day in August, just the sort of day when an adventure of +any kind seemed impossible. But it occurred to the housekeepers at our +cottage--there were four of them--to send me to the clearing, on the +mountain back of the house, to pick blackberries. It was rather a series +of small clearings, running up into the forest, much overgrown with +bushes and briers, and not unromantic. Cows pastured there, penetrating +through the leafy passages from one opening to another, and browsing +among the bushes. I was kindly furnished with a six-quart pail, and told +not to be gone long. + +Not from any predatory instinct, but to save appearances, I took a +gun. It adds to the manly aspect of a person with a tin pail if he also +carries a gun. It was possible I might start up a partridge; though how +I was to hit him, if he started up instead of standing still, puzzled +me. Many people use a shotgun for partridges. I prefer the rifle: it +makes a clean job of death, and does not prematurely stuff the bird with +globules of lead. The rifle was a Sharps, carrying a ball cartridge (ten +to the pound),--an excellent weapon belonging to a friend of mine, who +had intended, for a good many years back, to kill a deer with it. He +could hit a tree with it--if the wind did not blow, and the atmosphere +was just right, and the tree was not too far off--nearly every time. Of +course, the tree must have some size. Needless to say that I was at that +time no sportsman. Years ago I killed a robin under the most humiliating +circumstances. The bird was in a low cherry-tree. I loaded a big shotgun +pretty full, crept up under the tree, rested the gun on the fence, with +the muzzle more than ten feet from the bird, shut both eyes, and pulled +the trigger. When I got up to see what had happened, the robin was +scattered about under the tree in more than a thousand pieces, no one +of which was big enough to enable a naturalist to decide from it to what +species it belonged. This disgusted me with the life of a sportsman. I +mention the incident to show that, although I went blackberrying armed, +there was not much inequality between me and the bear. + +In this blackberry-patch bears had been seen. The summer before, our +colored cook, accompanied by a little girl of the vicinage, was picking +berries there one day, when a bear came out of the woods, and walked +towards them. The girl took to her heels, and escaped. Aunt Chloe was +paralyzed with terror. Instead of attempting to run, she sat down on +the ground where she was standing, and began to weep and scream, +giving herself up for lost. The bear was bewildered by this conduct. +He approached and looked at her; he walked around and surveyed her. +Probably he had never seen a colored person before, and did not know +whether she would agree with him: at any rate, after watching her a few +moments, he turned about, and went into the forest. This is an authentic +instance of the delicate consideration of a bear, and is much more +remarkable than the forbearance towards the African slave of the +well-known lion, because the bear had no thorn in his foot. + +When I had climbed the hill,--I set up my rifle against a tree, and +began picking berries, lured on from bush to bush by the black gleam of +fruit (that always promises more in the distance than it realizes when +you reach it); penetrating farther and farther, through leaf-shaded +cow-paths flecked with sunlight, into clearing after clearing. I could +hear on all sides the tinkle of bells, the cracking of sticks, and +the stamping of cattle that were taking refuge in the thicket from the +flies. Occasionally, as I broke through a covert, I encountered a meek +cow, who stared at me stupidly for a second, and then shambled off into +the brush. I became accustomed to this dumb society, and picked on in +silence, attributing all the wood noises to the cattle, thinking nothing +of any real bear. In point of fact, however, I was thinking all the time +of a nice romantic bear, and as I picked, was composing a story about a +generous she-bear who had lost her cub, and who seized a small girl in +this very wood, carried her tenderly off to a cave, and brought her +up on bear's milk and honey. When the girl got big enough to run away, +moved by her inherited instincts, she escaped, and came into the valley +to her father's house (this part of the story was to be worked out, so +that the child would know her father by some family resemblance, and +have some language in which to address him), and told him where the bear +lived. The father took his gun, and, guided by the unfeeling daughter, +went into the woods and shot the bear, who never made any resistance, +and only, when dying, turned reproachful eyes upon her murderer. The +moral of the tale was to be kindness to animals. + +I was in the midst of this tale when I happened to look some rods away +to the other edge of the clearing, and there was a bear! He was +standing on his hind legs, and doing just what I was doing,--picking +blackberries. With one paw he bent down the bush, while with the other +he clawed the berries into his mouth,--green ones and all. To say that +I was astonished is inside the mark. I suddenly discovered that I didn't +want to see a bear, after all. At about the same moment the bear saw me, +stopped eating berries, and regarded me with a glad surprise. It is +all very well to imagine what you would do under such circumstances. +Probably you wouldn't do it: I didn't. The bear dropped down on his +forefeet, and came slowly towards me. Climbing a tree was of no use, +with so good a climber in the rear. If I started to run, I had no doubt +the bear would give chase; and although a bear cannot run down hill +as fast as he can run up hill, yet I felt that he could get over this +rough, brush-tangled ground faster than I could. + +The bear was approaching. It suddenly occurred to me how I could divert +his mind until I could fall back upon my military base. My pail was +nearly full of excellent berries, much better than the bear could pick +himself. I put the pail on the ground, and slowly backed away from it, +keeping my eye, as beast-tamers do, on the bear. The ruse succeeded. + +The bear came up to the berries, and stopped. Not accustomed to eat out +of a pail, he tipped it over, and nosed about in the fruit, “gorming” + (if there is such a word) it down, mixed with leaves and dirt, like a +pig. The bear is a worse feeder than the pig. Whenever he disturbs a +maple-sugar camp in the spring, he always upsets the buckets of syrup, +and tramples round in the sticky sweets, wasting more than he eats. The +bear's manners are thoroughly disagreeable. + +As soon as my enemy's head was down, I started and ran. Somewhat out of +breath, and shaky, I reached my faithful rifle. It was not a moment too +soon. I heard the bear crashing through the brush after me. Enraged at +my duplicity, he was now coming on with blood in his eye. I felt that +the time of one of us was probably short. The rapidity of thought at +such moments of peril is well known. I thought an octavo volume, had +it illustrated and published, sold fifty thousand copies, and went to +Europe on the proceeds, while that bear was loping across the clearing. +As I was cocking the gun, I made a hasty and unsatisfactory review of +my whole life. I noted, that, even in such a compulsory review, it is +almost impossible to think of any good thing you have done. The sins +come out uncommonly strong. I recollected a newspaper subscription I had +delayed paying years and years ago, until both editor and newspaper were +dead, and which now never could be paid to all eternity. + +The bear was coming on. + +I tried to remember what I had read about encounters with bears. I +couldn't recall an instance in which a man had run away from a bear in +the woods and escaped, although I recalled plenty where the bear had run +from the man and got off. I tried to think what is the best way to kill +a bear with a gun, when you are not near enough to club him with the +stock. My first thought was to fire at his head; to plant the ball +between his eyes: but this is a dangerous experiment. The bear's brain +is very small; and, unless you hit that, the bear does not mind a bullet +in his head; that is, not at the time. I remembered that the instant +death of the bear would follow a bullet planted just back of his +fore-leg, and sent into his heart. This spot is also difficult to reach, +unless the bear stands off, side towards you, like a target. I finally +determined to fire at him generally. + +The bear was coming on. + +The contest seemed to me very different from anything at Creedmoor. I +had carefully read the reports of the shooting there; but it was not +easy to apply the experience I had thus acquired. I hesitated whether I +had better fire lying on my stomach or lying on my back, and resting the +gun on my toes. But in neither position, I reflected, could I see +the bear until he was upon me. The range was too short; and the bear +wouldn't wait for me to examine the thermometer, and note the direction +of the wind. Trial of the Creedmoor method, therefore, had to be +abandoned; and I bitterly regretted that I had not read more accounts of +offhand shooting. + +For the bear was coming on. + +I tried to fix my last thoughts upon my family. As my family is small, +this was not difficult. Dread of displeasing my wife, or hurting her +feelings, was uppermost in my mind. What would be her anxiety as hour +after hour passed on, and I did not return! What would the rest of the +household think as the afternoon passed, and no blackberries came! What +would be my wife's mortification when the news was brought that her +husband had been eaten by a bear! I cannot imagine anything more +ignominious than to have a husband eaten by a bear. And this was not +my only anxiety. The mind at such times is not under control. With the +gravest fears the most whimsical ideas will occur. I looked beyond the +mourning friends, and thought what kind of an epitaph they would be +compelled to put upon the stone. + +Something like this: + + HERE LIE THE REMAINS + + OF + ----- ------- + + EATEN BY A BEAR + Aug. 20, 1877 + +It is a very unheroic and even disagreeable epitaph. That “eaten by +a bear” is intolerable. It is grotesque. And then I thought what an +inadequate language the English is for compact expression. It would not +answer to put upon the stone simply “eaten”; for that is indefinite, and +requires explanation: it might mean eaten by a cannibal. This difficulty +could not occur in the German, where essen signifies the act of feeding +by a man, and fressen by a beast. How simple the thing would be in +German! + + HIER LIEGT + HOCHWOHLGEBOREN + HERR ---- ------ + + GEFRESSEN + Aug. 20, 1877 + +That explains itself. The well-born one was eaten by a beast, and +presumably by a bear,--an animal that has a bad reputation since the +days of Elisha. + +The bear was coming on; he had, in fact, come on. I judged that he could +see the whites of my eyes. All my subsequent reflections were confused. +I raised the gun, covered the bear's breast with the sight, and let +drive. Then I turned, and ran like a deer. I did not hear the bear +pursuing. I looked back. The bear had stopped. He was lying down. I then +remembered that the best thing to do after having fired your gun is to +reload it. I slipped in a charge, keeping my eyes on the bear. He never +stirred. I walked back suspiciously. There was a quiver in the hindlegs, +but no other motion. Still, he might be shamming: bears often sham. To +make sure, I approached, and put a ball into his head. He didn't mind +it now: he minded nothing. Death had come to him with a merciful +suddenness. He was calm in death. In order that he might remain so, I +blew his brains out, and then started for home. I had killed a bear! + +Notwithstanding my excitement, I managed to saunter into the house with +an unconcerned air. There was a chorus of voices: + +“Where are your blackberries?” “Why were you gone so long?” “Where's +your pail?” + +“I left the pail.” + +“Left the pail? What for?” + +“A bear wanted it.” + +“Oh, nonsense!” + +“Well, the last I saw of it, a bear had it.” + +“Oh, come! You didn't really see a bear?” + +“Yes, but I did really see a real bear.” + +“Did he run?” + +“Yes: he ran after me.” + +“I don't believe a word of it. What did you do?” + +“Oh! nothing particular--except kill the bear.” + +Cries of “Gammon!” “Don't believe it!” “Where's the bear?” + +“If you want to see the bear, you must go up into the woods. I couldn't +bring him down alone.” + +Having satisfied the household that something extraordinary had +occurred, and excited the posthumous fear of some of them for my own +safety, I went down into the valley to get help. The great bear-hunter, +who keeps one of the summer boarding-houses, received my story with +a smile of incredulity; and the incredulity spread to the other +inhabitants and to the boarders as soon as the story was known. However, +as I insisted in all soberness, and offered to lead them to the bear, a +party of forty or fifty people at last started off with me to bring the +bear in. Nobody believed there was any bear in the case; but everybody +who could get a gun carried one; and we went into the woods armed with +guns, pistols, pitchforks, and sticks, against all contingencies or +surprises,--a crowd made up mostly of scoffers and jeerers. + +But when I led the way to the fatal spot, and pointed out the bear, +lying peacefully wrapped in his own skin, something like terror seized +the boarders, and genuine excitement the natives. It was a no-mistake +bear, by George! and the hero of the fight well, I will not insist upon +that. But what a procession that was, carrying the bear home! and what +a congregation, was speedily gathered in the valley to see the bear! Our +best preacher up there never drew anything like it on Sunday. + +And I must say that my particular friends, who were sportsmen, behaved +very well, on the whole. They didn't deny that it was a bear, although +they said it was small for a bear. Mr... Deane, who is equally good with +a rifle and a rod, admitted that it was a very fair shot. He is probably +the best salmon fisher in the United States, and he is an equally good +hunter. I suppose there is no person in America who is more desirous to +kill a moose than he. But he needlessly remarked, after he had examined +the wound in the bear, that he had seen that kind of a shot made by a +cow's horn. + +This sort of talk affected me not. When I went to sleep that night, my +last delicious thought was, “I've killed a bear!” + + + + +II. LOST IN THE WOODS + +It ought to be said, by way of explanation, that my being lost in the +woods was not premeditated. Nothing could have been more informal. +This apology can be necessary only to those who are familiar with the +Adirondack literature. Any person not familiar with it would see the +absurdity of one going to the Northern Wilderness with the deliberate +purpose of writing about himself as a lost man. It may be true that a +book about this wild tract would not be recognized as complete without +a lost-man story in it, since it is almost as easy for a stranger to +get lost in the Adirondacks as in Boston. I merely desire to say that my +unimportant adventure is not narrated in answer to the popular demand, +and I do not wish to be held responsible for its variation from the +typical character of such experiences. + +We had been in camp a week, on the Upper Au Sable Lake. This is a +gem--emerald or turquoise as the light changes it--set in the virgin +forest. It is not a large body of water, is irregular in form, and about +a mile and a half in length; but in the sweep of its wooded shores, and +the lovely contour of the lofty mountains that guard it, the lake +is probably the most charming in America. Why the young ladies and +gentlemen who camp there occasionally vex the days and nights with +hooting, and singing sentimental songs, is a mystery even to the +laughing loon. + +I left my companions there one Saturday morning, to return to Keene +Valley, intending to fish down the Au Sable River. The Upper Lake +discharges itself into the Lower by a brook which winds through a mile +and a half of swamp and woods. Out of the north end of the Lower +Lake, which is a huge sink in the mountains, and mirrors the savage +precipices, the Au Sable breaks its rocky barriers, and flows through a +wild gorge, several miles, to the valley below. Between the Lower Lake +and the settlements is an extensive forest, traversed by a cart-path, +admirably constructed of loose stones, roots of trees, decayed logs, +slippery rocks, and mud. The gorge of the river forms its western +boundary. I followed this caricature of a road a mile or more; then +gave my luggage to the guide to carry home, and struck off through the +forest, by compass, to the river. I promised myself an exciting scramble +down this little-frequented canyon, and a creel full of trout. There was +no difficulty in finding the river, or in descending the steep precipice +to its bed: getting into a scrape is usually the easiest part of it. The +river is strewn with bowlders, big and little, through which the amber +water rushes with an unceasing thunderous roar, now plunging down in +white falls, then swirling round in dark pools. The day, already past +meridian, was delightful; at least, the blue strip of it I could see +overhead. + +Better pools and rapids for trout never were, I thought, as I concealed +myself behind a bowlder, and made the first cast. There is nothing like +the thrill of expectation over the first throw in unfamiliar waters. +Fishing is like gambling, in that failure only excites hope of a +fortunate throw next time. There was no rise to the “leader” on the +first cast, nor on the twenty-first; and I cautiously worked my way down +stream, throwing right and left. When I had gone half a mile, my opinion +of the character of the pools was unchanged: never were there such +places for trout; but the trout were out of their places. Perhaps they +didn't care for the fly: some trout seem to be so unsophisticated as +to prefer the worm. I replaced the fly with a baited hook: the worm +squirmed; the waters rushed and roared; a cloud sailed across the +blue: no trout rose to the lonesome opportunity. There is a certain +companionship in the presence of trout, especially when you can feel +them flopping in your fish basket; but it became evident that there were +no trout in this wilderness, and a sense of isolation for the first time +came over me. There was no living thing near. The river had by this time +entered a deeper gorge; walls of rocks rose perpendicularly on either +side,--picturesque rocks, painted many colors by the oxide of iron. It +was not possible to climb out of the gorge; it was impossible to find a +way by the side of the river; and getting down the bed, over the falls, +and through the flumes, was not easy, and consumed time. + +Was that thunder? Very likely. But thunder showers are always brewing +in these mountain fortresses, and it did not occur to me that there was +anything personal in it. Very soon, however, the hole in the sky closed +in, and the rain dashed down. It seemed a providential time to eat my +luncheon; and I took shelter under a scraggy pine that had rooted itself +in the edge of the rocky slope. The shower soon passed, and I continued +my journey, creeping over the slippery rocks, and continuing to show +my confidence in the unresponsive trout. The way grew wilder and more +grewsome. The thunder began again, rolling along over the tops of the +mountains, and reverberating in sharp concussions in the gorge: the +lightning also darted down into the darkening passage, and then the +rain. Every enlightened being, even if he is in a fisherman's dress of +shirt and pantaloons, hates to get wet; and I ignominiously crept under +the edge of a sloping bowlder. It was all very well at first, until +streams of water began to crawl along the face of the rock, and +trickle down the back of my neck. This was refined misery, unheroic and +humiliating, as suffering always is when unaccompanied by resignation. + +A longer time than I knew was consumed in this and repeated efforts +to wait for the slackening and renewing storm to pass away. In the +intervals of calm I still fished, and even descended to what a sportsman +considers incredible baseness: I put a “sinker” on my line. It is the +practice of the country folk, whose only object is to get fish, to use +a good deal of bait, sink the hook to the bottom of the pools, and wait +the slow appetite of the summer trout. I tried this also. I might as +well have fished in a pork barrel. It is true that in one deep, black, +round pool I lured a small trout from the bottom, and deposited him +in the creel; but it was an accident. Though I sat there in the awful +silence (the roar of water and thunder only emphasized the stillness) +full half an hour, I was not encouraged by another nibble. Hope, +however, did not die: I always expected to find the trout in the next +flume; and so I toiled slowly on, unconscious of the passing time. At +each turn of the stream I expected to see the end, and at each turn I +saw a long, narrow stretch of rocks and foaming water. Climbing out of +the ravine was, in most places, simply impossible; and I began to look +with interest for a slide, where bushes rooted in the scant earth would +enable me to scale the precipice. I did not doubt that I was nearly +through the gorge. I could at length see the huge form of the Giant of +the Valley, scarred with avalanches, at the end of the vista; and it +seemed not far off. But it kept its distance, as only a mountain can, +while I stumbled and slid down the rocky way. The rain had now set in +with persistence, and suddenly I became aware that it was growing dark; +and I said to myself, “If you don't wish to spend the night in this +horrible chasm, you'd better escape speedily.” Fortunately I reached +a place where the face of the precipice was bushgrown, and with +considerable labor scrambled up it. + +Having no doubt that I was within half a mile, perhaps within a few +rods, of the house above the entrance of the gorge, and that, in any +event, I should fall into the cart-path in a few minutes, I struck +boldly into the forest, congratulating myself on having escaped out of +the river. So sure was I of my whereabouts that I did not note the bend +of the river, nor look at my compass. The one trout in my basket was no +burden, and I stepped lightly out. + +The forest was of hard-wood, and open, except for a thick undergrowth of +moose-bush. It was raining,--in fact, it had been raining, more or +less, for a month,--and the woods were soaked. This moose-bush is most +annoying stuff to travel through in a rain; for the broad leaves slap +one in the face, and sop him with wet. The way grew every moment +more dingy. The heavy clouds above the thick foliage brought night on +prematurely. It was decidedly premature to a near-sighted man, whose +glasses the rain rendered useless: such a person ought to be at home +early. On leaving the river bank I had borne to the left, so as to be +sure to strike either the clearing or the road, and not wander off into +the measureless forest. I confidently pursued this course, and went +gayly on by the left flank. That I did not come to any opening or path +only showed that I had slightly mistaken the distance: I was going in +the right direction. + +I was so certain of this that I quickened my pace and got up with +alacrity every time I tumbled down amid the slippery leaves and catching +roots, and hurried on. And I kept to the left. It even occurred to me +that I was turning to the left so much that I might come back to the +river again. It grew more dusky, and rained more violently; but there +was nothing alarming in the situation, since I knew exactly where I was. +It was a little mortifying that I had miscalculated the distance: yet, +so far was I from feeling any uneasiness about this that I quickened my +pace again, and, before I knew it, was in a full run; that is, as full +a run as a person can indulge in in the dusk, with so many trees in +the way. No nervousness, but simply a reasonable desire to get there. I +desired to look upon myself as the person “not lost, but gone before.” + As time passed, and darkness fell, and no clearing or road appeared, I +ran a little faster. It didn't seem possible that the people had moved, +or the road been changed; and yet I was sure of my direction. I went +on with an energy increased by the ridiculousness of the situation, +the danger that an experienced woodsman was in of getting home late +for supper; the lateness of the meal being nothing to the gibes of the +unlost. How long I kept this course, and how far I went on, I do not +know; but suddenly I stumbled against an ill-placed tree, and sat down +on the soaked ground, a trifle out of breath. It then occurred to me +that I had better verify my course by the compass. There was scarcely +light enough to distinguish the black end of the needle. To my +amazement, the compass, which was made near Greenwich, was wrong. +Allowing for the natural variation of the needle, it was absurdly wrong. +It made out that I was going south when I was going north. It intimated +that, instead of turning to the left, I had been making a circuit to the +right. According to the compass, the Lord only knew where I was. + +The inclination of persons in the woods to travel in a circle is +unexplained. I suppose it arises from the sympathy of the legs with the +brain. Most people reason in a circle: their minds go round and round, +always in the same track. For the last half hour I had been saying over +a sentence that started itself: “I wonder where that road is!” I had +said it over till it had lost all meaning. I kept going round on it; and +yet I could not believe that my body had been traveling in a circle. +Not being able to recognize any tracks, I have no evidence that I had so +traveled, except the general testimony of lost men. + +The compass annoyed me. I've known experienced guides utterly discredit +it. It couldn't be that I was to turn about, and go the way I had come. +Nevertheless, I said to myself, “You'd better keep a cool head, my +boy, or you are in for a night of it. Better listen to science than +to spunk.” And I resolved to heed the impartial needle. I was a little +weary of the rough tramping: but it was necessary to be moving; for, +with wet clothes and the night air, I was decidedly chilly. I turned +towards the north, and slipped and stumbled along. A more uninviting +forest to pass the night in I never saw. Every-thing was soaked. If +I became exhausted, it would be necessary to build a fire; and, as I +walked on, I couldn't find a dry bit of wood. Even if a little punk were +discovered in a rotten log I had no hatchet to cut fuel. I thought it +all over calmly. I had the usual three matches in my pocket. I knew +exactly what would happen if I tried to build a fire. The first match +would prove to be wet. The second match, when struck, would shine and +smell, and fizz a little, and then go out. There would be only one match +left. Death would ensue if it failed. I should get close to the log, +crawl under my hat, strike the match, see it catch, flicker, almost +go out (the reader painfully excited by this time), blaze up, nearly +expire, and finally fire the punk,--thank God! And I said to myself, +“The public don't want any more of this thing: it is played out. Either +have a box of matches, or let the first one catch fire.” + +In this gloomy mood I plunged along. The prospect was cheerless; for, +apart from the comfort that a fire would give, it is necessary, at +night, to keep off the wild beasts. I fancied I could hear the tread of +the stealthy brutes following their prey. But there was one source of +profound satisfaction,--the catamount had been killed. Mr. Colvin, +the triangulating surveyor of the Adirondacks, killed him in his +last official report to the State. Whether he despatched him with a +theodolite or a barometer does not matter: he is officially dead, and +none of the travelers can kill him any more. Yet he has served them a +good turn. + +I knew that catamount well. One night when we lay in the bogs of the +South Beaver Meadow, under a canopy of mosquitoes, the serene midnight +was parted by a wild and humanlike cry from a neighboring mountain. +“That's a cat,” said the guide. I felt in a moment that it was the voice +of “modern cultchah.” “Modern culture,” says Mr. Joseph Cook in a most +impressive period,--“modern culture is a child crying in the wilderness, +and with no voice but a cry.” That describes the catamount exactly. The +next day, when we ascended the mountain, we came upon the traces of this +brute,--a spot where he had stood and cried in the night; and I confess +that my hair rose with the consciousness of his recent presence, as it +is said to do when a spirit passes by. + +Whatever consolation the absence of catamount in a dark, drenched, and +howling wilderness can impart, that I experienced; but I thought what +a satire upon my present condition was modern culture, with its plain +thinking and high living! It was impossible to get much satisfaction +out of the real and the ideal,--the me and the not-me. At this time +what impressed me most was the absurdity of my position looked at in the +light of modern civilization and all my advantages and acquirements. It +seemed pitiful that society could do absolutely nothing for me. It +was, in fact, humiliating to reflect that it would now be profitable +to exchange all my possessions for the woods instinct of the most +unlettered guide. I began to doubt the value of the “culture” that +blunts the natural instincts. + +It began to be a question whether I could hold out to walk all night; +for I must travel, or perish. And now I imagined that a spectre was +walking by my side. This was Famine. To be sure, I had only recently +eaten a hearty luncheon: but the pangs of hunger got hold on me when +I thought that I should have no supper, no breakfast; and, as the +procession of unattainable meals stretched before me, I grew hungrier +and hungrier. I could feel that I was becoming gaunt, and wasting away: +already I seemed to be emaciated. It is astonishing how speedily a +jocund, well-conditioned human being can be transformed into a spectacle +of poverty and want, Lose a man in the Woods, drench him, tear his +pantaloons, get his imagination running on his lost supper and the +cheerful fireside that is expecting him, and he will become haggard +in an hour. I am not dwelling upon these things to excite the reader's +sympathy, but only to advise him, if he contemplates an adventure of +this kind, to provide himself with matches, kindling wood, something +more to eat than one raw trout, and not to select a rainy night for it. + +Nature is so pitiless, so unresponsive, to a person in trouble! I had +read of the soothing companionship of the forest, the pleasure of +the pathless woods. But I thought, as I stumbled along in the dismal +actuality, that, if I ever got out of it, I would write a letter to +the newspapers, exposing the whole thing. There is an impassive, stolid +brutality about the woods that has never been enough insisted on. +I tried to keep my mind fixed upon the fact of man's superiority to +Nature; his ability to dominate and outwit her. My situation was an +amusing satire on this theory. I fancied that I could feel a sneer in +the woods at my detected conceit. There was something personal in +it. The downpour of the rain and the slipperiness of the ground were +elements of discomfort; but there was, besides these, a kind of terror +in the very character of the forest itself. I think this arose not +more from its immensity than from the kind of stolidity to which I have +alluded. It seemed to me that it would be a sort of relief to kick the +trees. I don't wonder that the bears fall to, occasionally, and scratch +the bark off the great pines and maples, tearing it angrily away. One +must have some vent to his feelings. It is a common experience of people +lost in the woods to lose their heads; and even the woodsmen themselves +are not free from this panic when some accident has thrown them out of +their reckoning. Fright unsettles the judgment: the oppressive silence +of the woods is a vacuum in which the mind goes astray. It's a hollow +sham, this pantheism, I said; being “one with Nature” is all humbug: I +should like to see somebody. Man, to be sure, is of very little account, +and soon gets beyond his depth; but the society of the least human being +is better than this gigantic indifference. The “rapture on the lonely +shore” is agreeable only when you know you can at any moment go home. + +I had now given up all expectation of finding the road, and was steering +my way as well as I could northward towards the valley. In my haste I +made slow progress. Probably the distance I traveled was short, and the +time consumed not long; but I seemed to be adding mile to mile, and hour +to hour. I had time to review the incidents of the Russo-Turkish war, +and to forecast the entire Eastern question; I outlined the characters +of all my companions left in camp, and sketched in a sort of comedy +the sympathetic and disparaging observations they would make on +my adventure; I repeated something like a thousand times, without +contradiction, “What a fool you were to leave the river!” I stopped +twenty times, thinking I heard its loud roar, always deceived by the +wind in the tree-tops; I began to entertain serious doubts about the +compass,--when suddenly I became aware that I was no longer on level +ground: I was descending a slope; I was actually in a ravine. In a +moment more I was in a brook newly formed by the rain. “Thank Heaven!” + I cried: “this I shall follow, whatever conscience or the compass says.” + In this region, all streams go, sooner or later, into the valley. This +ravine, this stream, no doubt, led to the river. I splashed and tumbled +along down it in mud and water. Down hill we went together, the fall +showing that I must have wandered to high ground. When I guessed that I +must be close to the river, I suddenly stepped into mud up to my ankles. +It was the road,--running, of course, the wrong way, but still the +blessed road. It was a mere canal of liquid mud; but man had made it, +and it would take me home. I was at least three miles from the point I +supposed I was near at sunset, and I had before me a toilsome walk of +six or seven miles, most of the way in a ditch; but it is truth to say +that I enjoyed every step of it. I was safe; I knew where I was; and I +could have walked till morning. The mind had again got the upper hand +of the body, and began to plume itself on its superiority: it was even +disposed to doubt whether it had been “lost” at all. + + + + +III. A FIGHT WITH A TROUT + +Trout fishing in the Adirondacks would be a more attractive pastime than +it is but for the popular notion of its danger. The trout is a retiring +and harmless animal, except when he is aroused and forced into a combat; +and then his agility, fierceness, and vindictiveness become apparent. No +one who has studied the excellent pictures representing men in an open +boat, exposed to the assaults of long, enraged trout flying at them +through the open air with open mouth, ever ventures with his rod upon +the lonely lakes of the forest without a certain terror, or ever reads +of the exploits of daring fishermen without a feeling of admiration for +their heroism. Most of their adventures are thrilling, and all of them +are, in narration, more or less unjust to the trout: in fact, the +object of them seems to be to exhibit, at the expense of the trout, the +shrewdness, the skill, and the muscular power of the sportsman. My own +simple story has few of these recommendations. + +We had built our bark camp one summer and were staying on one of the +popular lakes of the Saranac region. It would be a very pretty region if +it were not so flat, if the margins of the lakes had not been flooded +by dams at the outlets, which have killed the trees, and left a rim of +ghastly deadwood like the swamps of the under-world pictured by Dore's +bizarre pencil,--and if the pianos at the hotels were in tune. It would +be an excellent sporting region also (for there is water enough) if the +fish commissioners would stock the waters, and if previous hunters had +not pulled all the hair and skin off from the deers' tails. Formerly +sportsmen had a habit of catching the deer by the tails, and of being +dragged in mere wantonness round and round the shores. It is well known +that if you seize a deer by this “holt” the skin will slip off like the +peel from a banana--This reprehensible practice was carried so far +that the traveler is now hourly pained by the sight of peeled-tail deer +mournfully sneaking about the wood. + +We had been hearing, for weeks, of a small lake in the heart of the +virgin forest, some ten miles from our camp, which was alive with trout, +unsophisticated, hungry trout: the inlet to it was described as stiff +with them. In my imagination I saw them lying there in ranks and rows, +each a foot long, three tiers deep, a solid mass. The lake had never +been visited except by stray sable hunters in the winter, and was +known as the Unknown Pond. I determined to explore it, fully expecting, +however, that it would prove to be a delusion, as such mysterious haunts +of the trout usually are. Confiding my purpose to Luke, we secretly +made our preparations, and stole away from the shanty one morning at +daybreak. Each of us carried a boat, a pair of blankets, a sack of +bread, pork, and maple-sugar; while I had my case of rods, creel, and +book of flies, and Luke had an axe and the kitchen utensils. We think +nothing of loads of this sort in the woods. + +Five miles through a tamarack swamp brought us to the inlet of Unknown +Pond, upon which we embarked our fleet, and paddled down its vagrant +waters. They were at first sluggish, winding among triste fir-trees, but +gradually developed a strong current. At the end of three miles a +loud roar ahead warned us that we were approaching rapids, falls, +and cascades. We paused. The danger was unknown. We had our choice +of shouldering our loads and making a detour through the woods, or of +“shooting the rapids.” Naturally we chose the more dangerous course. +Shooting the rapids has often been described, and I will not repeat +the description here. It is needless to say that I drove my frail bark +through the boiling rapids, over the successive waterfalls, amid rocks +and vicious eddies, and landed, half a mile below with whitened hair +and a boat half full of water; and that the guide was upset, and boat, +contents, and man were strewn along the shore. + +After this common experience we went quickly on our journey, and, a +couple of hours before sundown, reached the lake. If I live to my dying +day, I never shall forget its appearance. The lake is almost an exact +circle, about a quarter of a mile in diameter. The forest about it was +untouched by axe, and unkilled by artificial flooding. The azure water +had a perfect setting of evergreens, in which all the shades of the +fir, the balsam, the pine, and the spruce were perfectly blended; and +at intervals on the shore in the emerald rim blazed the ruby of the +cardinal flower. It was at once evident that the unruffled waters had +never been vexed by the keel of a boat. But what chiefly attracted my +attention, and amused me, was the boiling of the water, the bubbling and +breaking, as if the lake were a vast kettle, with a fire underneath. A +tyro would have been astonished at this common phenomenon; but sportsmen +will at once understand me when I say that the water boiled with the +breaking trout. I studied the surface for some time to see upon what +sort of flies they were feeding, in order to suit my cast to their +appetites; but they seemed to be at play rather than feeding, leaping +high in the air in graceful curves, and tumbling about each other as we +see them in the Adirondack pictures. + +It is well known that no person who regards his reputation will ever +kill a trout with anything but a fly. It requires some training on +the part of the trout to take to this method. The uncultivated, +unsophisticated trout in unfrequented waters prefers the bait; and the +rural people, whose sole object in going a-fishing appears to be to +catch fish, indulge them in their primitive taste for the worm. No +sportsman, however, will use anything but a fly, except he happens to be +alone. + +While Luke launched my boat and arranged his seat in the stern, I +prepared my rod and line. The rod is a bamboo, weighing seven ounces, +which has to be spliced with a winding of silk thread every time it is +used. This is a tedious process; but, by fastening the joints in this +way, a uniform spring is secured in the rod. No one devoted to high +art would think of using a socket joint. My line was forty yards +of untwisted silk upon a multiplying reel. The “leader” (I am very +particular about my leaders) had been made to order from a domestic +animal with which I had been acquainted. The fisherman requires as good +a catgut as the violinist. The interior of the house cat, it is well +known, is exceedingly sensitive; but it may not be so well known that +the reason why some cats leave the room in distress when a piano-forte +is played is because the two instruments are not in the same key, and +the vibrations of the chords of the one are in discord with the catgut +of the other. On six feet of this superior article I fixed three +artificial flies,--a simple brown hackle, a gray body with scarlet +wings, and one of my own invention, which I thought would be new to the +most experienced fly-catcher. The trout-fly does not resemble any known +species of insect. It is a “conventionalized” creation, as we say of +ornamentation. The theory is that, fly-fishing being a high art, the fly +must not be a tame imitation of nature, but an artistic suggestion of +it. It requires an artist to construct one; and not every bungler +can take a bit of red flannel, a peacock's feather, a flash of tinsel +thread, a cock's plume, a section of a hen's wing, and fabricate a +tiny object that will not look like any fly, but still will suggest the +universal conventional fly. + +I took my stand in the center of the tipsy boat; and Luke shoved off, +and slowly paddled towards some lily-pads, while I began casting, +unlimbering my tools, as it were. The fish had all disappeared. I +got out, perhaps, fifty feet of line, with no response, and gradually +increased it to one hundred. It is not difficult to learn to cast; but +it is difficult to learn not to snap off the flies at every throw. Of +this, however, we will not speak. I continued casting for some moments, +until I became satisfied that there had been a miscalculation. +Either the trout were too green to know what I was at, or they were +dissatisfied with my offers. I reeled in, and changed the flies (that +is, the fly that was not snapped off). After studying the color of the +sky, of the water, and of the foliage, and the moderated light of the +afternoon, I put on a series of beguilers, all of a subdued brilliancy, +in harmony with the approach of evening. At the second cast, which was +a short one, I saw a splash where the leader fell, and gave an excited +jerk. The next instant I perceived the game, and did not need the +unfeigned “dam” of Luke to convince me that I had snatched his felt hat +from his head and deposited it among the lilies. Discouraged by this, we +whirled about, and paddled over to the inlet, where a little ripple was +visible in the tinted light. At the very first cast I saw that the hour +had come. Three trout leaped into the air. The danger of this manoeuvre +all fishermen understand. It is one of the commonest in the woods: three +heavy trout taking hold at once, rushing in different directions, smash +the tackle into flinders. I evaded this catch, and threw again. I recall +the moment. A hermit thrush, on the tip of a balsam, uttered his long, +liquid, evening note. Happening to look over my shoulder, I saw the +peak of Marcy gleam rosy in the sky (I can't help it that Marcy is fifty +miles off, and cannot be seen from this region: these incidental touches +are always used). The hundred feet of silk swished through the air, and +the tail-fly fell as lightly on the water as a three-cent piece (which +no slamming will give the weight of a ten) drops upon the contribution +plate. Instantly there was a rush, a swirl. I struck, and “Got him, +by---!” Never mind what Luke said I got him by. “Out on a fly!” + continued that irreverent guide; but I told him to back water, and make +for the center of the lake. The trout, as soon as he felt the prick of +the hook, was off like a shot, and took out the whole of the line with +a rapidity that made it smoke. “Give him the butt!” shouted Luke. It +is the usual remark in such an emergency. I gave him the butt; and, +recognizing the fact and my spirit, the trout at once sank to the +bottom, and sulked. It is the most dangerous mood of a trout; for you +cannot tell what he will do next. We reeled up a little, and waited five +minutes for him to reflect. A tightening of the line enraged him, and he +soon developed his tactics. Coming to the surface, he made straight +for the boat faster than I could reel in, and evidently with hostile +intentions. “Look out for him!” cried Luke as he came flying in the air. +I evaded him by dropping flat in the bottom of the boat; and, when I +picked my traps up, he was spinning across the lake as if he had a new +idea: but the line was still fast. He did not run far. I gave him the +butt again; a thing he seemed to hate, even as a gift. In a moment the +evil-minded fish, lashing the water in his rage, was coming back again, +making straight for the boat as before. Luke, who was used to these +encounters, having read of them in the writings of travelers he had +accompanied, raised his paddle in self-defense. The trout left the water +about ten feet from the boat, and came directly at me with fiery eyes, +his speckled sides flashing like a meteor. I dodged as he whisked by +with a vicious slap of his bifurcated tail, and nearly upset the boat. +The line was of course slack, and the danger was that he would entangle +it about me, and carry away a leg. This was evidently his game; but I +untangled it, and only lost a breast button or two by the swiftly-moving +string. The trout plunged into the water with a hissing sound, and went +away again with all the line on the reel. More butt; more indignation on +the part of the captive. The contest had now been going on for half an +hour, and I was getting exhausted. We had been back and forth across +the lake, and round and round the lake. What I feared was that the trout +would start up the inlet and wreck us in the bushes. But he had a new +fancy, and began the execution of a manoeuvre which I had never read of. +Instead of coming straight towards me, he took a large circle, swimming +rapidly, and gradually contracting his orbit. I reeled in, and kept my +eye on him. Round and round he went, narrowing his circle. I began to +suspect the game; which was, to twist my head off.--When he had +reduced the radius of his circle to about twenty-five feet, he struck +a tremendous pace through the water. It would be false modesty in +a sportsman to say that I was not equal to the occasion. Instead of +turning round with him, as he expected, I stepped to the bow, braced +myself, and let the boat swing. Round went the fish, and round we went +like a top. I saw a line of Mount Marcys all round the horizon; the +rosy tint in the west made a broad band of pink along the sky above the +tree-tops; the evening star was a perfect circle of light, a hoop of +gold in the heavens. We whirled and reeled, and reeled and whirled. I +was willing to give the malicious beast butt and line, and all, if he +would only go the other way for a change. + +When I came to myself, Luke was gaffing the trout at the boat-side. +After we had got him in and dressed him, he weighed three-quarters of +a pound. Fish always lose by being “got in and dressed.” It is best to +weigh them while they are in the water. The only really large one I ever +caught got away with my leader when I first struck him. He weighed ten +pounds. + + + + +IV. A-HUNTING OF THE DEER + +If civilization owes a debt of gratitude to the self-sacrificing +sportsmen who have cleared the Adirondack regions of catamounts and +savage trout, what shall be said of the army which has so nobly +relieved them of the terror of the deer? The deer-slayers have somewhat +celebrated their exploits in print; but I think that justice has never +been done them. + +The American deer in the wilderness, left to himself, leads a +comparatively harmless but rather stupid life, with only such excitement +as his own timid fancy raises. It was very seldom that one of his tribe +was eaten by the North American tiger. For a wild animal he is very +domestic, simple in his tastes, regular in his habits, affectionate in +his family. Unfortunately for his repose, his haunch is as tender as his +heart. Of all wild creatures he is one of the most graceful in action, +and he poses with the skill of an experienced model. I have seen the +goats on Mount Pentelicus scatter at the approach of a stranger, climb +to the sharp points of projecting rocks, and attitudinize in the most +self-conscious manner, striking at once those picturesque postures +against the sky with which Oriental pictures have made us and them +familiar. But the whole proceeding was theatrical. + +Greece is the home of art, and it is rare to find anything there natural +and unstudied. I presume that these goats have no nonsense about them +when they are alone with the goatherds, any more than the goatherds +have, except when they come to pose in the studio; but the long ages of +culture, the presence always to the eye of the best models and the forms +of immortal beauty, the heroic friezes of the Temple of Theseus, the +marble processions of sacrificial animals, have had a steady molding, +educating influence equal to a society of decorative art upon the people +and the animals who have dwelt in this artistic atmosphere. The Attic +goat has become an artificially artistic being; though of course he is +not now what he was, as a poser, in the days of Polycletus. There is +opportunity for a very instructive essay by Mr. E. A. Freeman on the +decadence of the Attic goat under the influence of the Ottoman Turk. + +The American deer, in the free atmosphere of our country, and as yet +untouched by our decorative art, is without self-consciousness, and +all his attitudes are free and unstudied. The favorite position of +the deer--his fore-feet in the shallow margin of the lake, among the +lily-pads, his antlers thrown back and his nose in the air at the +moment he hears the stealthy breaking of a twig in the forest--is still +spirited and graceful, and wholly unaffected by the pictures of him +which the artists have put upon canvas. + +Wherever you go in the Northern forest you will find deer-paths. So +plainly marked and well-trodden are they that it is easy to mistake them +for trails made by hunters; but he who follows one of them is soon in +difficulties. He may find himself climbing through cedar thickets an +almost inaccessible cliff, or immersed in the intricacies of a marsh. +The “run,” in one direction, will lead to water; but, in the other, +it climbs the highest hills, to which the deer retires, for safety and +repose, in impenetrable thickets. The hunters, in winter, find them +congregated in “yards,” where they can be surrounded and shot as +easily as our troops shoot Comanche women and children in their winter +villages. These little paths are full of pitfalls among the roots and +stones; and, nimble as the deer is, he sometimes breaks one of his +slender legs in them. Yet he knows how to treat himself without a +surgeon. I knew of a tame deer in a settlement in the edge of the forest +who had the misfortune to break her leg. She immediately disappeared +with a delicacy rare in an invalid, and was not seen for two weeks. Her +friends had given her up, supposing that she had dragged herself away +into the depths of the woods, and died of starvation, when one day she +returned, cured of lameness, but thin as a virgin shadow. She had the +sense to shun the doctor; to lie down in some safe place, and patiently +wait for her leg to heal. I have observed in many of the more refined +animals this sort of shyness, and reluctance to give trouble, which +excite our admiration when noticed in mankind. + +The deer is called a timid animal, and taunted with possessing courage +only when he is “at bay”; the stag will fight when he can no longer +flee; and the doe will defend her young in the face of murderous +enemies. The deer gets little credit for this eleventh-hour bravery. But +I think that in any truly Christian condition of society the deer would +not be conspicuous for cowardice. I suppose that if the American girl, +even as she is described in foreign romances, were pursued by bull-dogs, +and fired at from behind fences every time she ventured outdoors, she +would become timid, and reluctant to go abroad. When that golden era +comes which the poets think is behind us, and the prophets declare is +about to be ushered in by the opening of the “vials,” and the killing of +everybody who does not believe as those nations believe which have +the most cannon; when we all live in real concord,--perhaps the +gentle-hearted deer will be respected, and will find that men are not +more savage to the weak than are the cougars and panthers. If the little +spotted fawn can think, it must seem to her a queer world in which the +advent of innocence is hailed by the baying of fierce hounds and the +“ping” of the rifle. + +Hunting the deer in the Adirondacks is conducted in the most manly +fashion. There are several methods, and in none of them is a fair chance +to the deer considered. A favorite method with the natives is practiced +in winter, and is called by them “still hunting.” My idea of still +hunting is for one man to go alone into the forest, look about for a +deer, put his wits fairly against the wits of the keen-scented animal, +and kill his deer, or get lost in the attempt. There seems to be a sort +of fairness about this. It is private assassination, tempered with a +little uncertainty about finding your man. The still hunting of the +natives has all the romance and danger attending the slaughter of sheep +in an abattoir. As the snow gets deep, many deer congregate in the +depths of the forest, and keep a place trodden down, which grows larger +as they tramp down the snow in search of food. In time this refuge +becomes a sort of “yard,” surrounded by unbroken snow-banks. The hunters +then make their way to this retreat on snowshoes, and from the top of +the banks pick off the deer at leisure with their rifles, and haul them +away to market, until the enclosure is pretty much emptied. This is one +of the surest methods of exterminating the deer; it is also one of +the most merciful; and, being the plan adopted by our government for +civilizing the Indian, it ought to be popular. The only people who +object to it are the summer sportsmen. They naturally want some pleasure +out of the death of the deer. + +Some of our best sportsmen, who desire to protract the pleasure of +slaying deer through as many seasons as possible, object to the practice +of the hunters, who make it their chief business to slaughter as many +deer in a camping season as they can. Their own rule, they say, is +to kill a deer only when they need venison to eat. Their excuse is +specious. What right have these sophists to put themselves into a desert +place, out of the reach of provisions, and then ground a right to slay +deer on their own improvidence? If it is necessary for these people +to have anything to eat, which I doubt, it is not necessary that they +should have the luxury of venison. + +One of the most picturesque methods of hunting the poor deer is called +“floating.” The person, with murder in his heart, chooses a cloudy +night, seats himself, rifle in hand, in a canoe, which is noiselessly +paddled by the guide, and explores the shore of the lake or the dark +inlet. In the bow of the boat is a light in a “jack,” the rays of which +are shielded from the boat and its occupants. A deer comes down to feed +upon the lily-pads. The boat approaches him. He looks up, and stands a +moment, terrified or fascinated by the bright flames. In that moment the +sportsman is supposed to shoot the deer. As an historical fact, his hand +usually shakes so that he misses the animal, or only wounds him; and the +stag limps away to die after days of suffering. Usually, however, +the hunters remain out all night, get stiff from cold and the cramped +position in the boat, and, when they return in the morning to camp, +cloud their future existence by the assertion that they “heard a big +buck” moving along the shore, but the people in camp made so much noise +that he was frightened off. + +By all odds, the favorite and prevalent mode is hunting with dogs. The +dogs do the hunting, the men the killing. The hounds are sent into the +forest to rouse the deer, and drive him from his cover. They climb the +mountains, strike the trails, and go baying and yelping on the track of +the poor beast. The deer have their established runways, as I said; and, +when they are disturbed in their retreat, they are certain to attempt to +escape by following one which invariably leads to some lake or stream. +All that the hunter has to do is to seat himself by one of these +runways, or sit in a boat on the lake, and wait the coming of the +pursued deer. The frightened beast, fleeing from the unreasoning +brutality of the hounds, will often seek the open country, with a +mistaken confidence in the humanity of man. To kill a deer when he +suddenly passes one on a runway demands presence of mind and quickness +of aim: to shoot him from the boat, after he has plunged panting into +the lake, requires the rare ability to hit a moving object the size of +a deer's head a few rods distant. Either exploit is sufficient to make +a hero of a common man. To paddle up to the swimming deer, and cut his +throat, is a sure means of getting venison, and has its charms for some. +Even women and doctors of divinity have enjoyed this exquisite pleasure. +It cannot be denied that we are so constituted by a wise Creator as to +feel a delight in killing a wild animal which we do not experience in +killing a tame one. + +The pleasurable excitement of a deer-hunt has never, I believe, been +regarded from the deer's point of view. I happen to be in a position, by +reason of a lucky Adirondack experience, to present it in that light. I +am sorry if this introduction to my little story has seemed long to +the reader: it is too late now to skip it; but he can recoup himself by +omitting the story. + +Early on the morning of the 23d of August, 1877, a doe was feeding on +Basin Mountain. The night had been warm and showery, and the morning +opened in an undecided way. The wind was southerly: it is what the +deer call a dog-wind, having come to know quite well the meaning of “a +southerly wind and a cloudy sky.” The sole companion of the doe was her +only child, a charming little fawn, whose brown coat was just beginning +to be mottled with the beautiful spots which make this young creature +as lovely as the gazelle. The buck, its father, had been that night on a +long tramp across the mountain to Clear Pond, and had not yet returned: +he went ostensibly to feed on the succulent lily-pads there. “He feedeth +among the lilies until the day break and the shadows flee away, and he +should be here by this hour; but he cometh not,” she said, “leaping upon +the mountains, skipping upon the hills.” Clear Pond was too far off for +the young mother to go with her fawn for a night's pleasure. It was a +fashionable watering-place at this season among the deer; and the doe +may have remembered, not without uneasiness, the moonlight meetings of +a frivolous society there. But the buck did not come: he was very likely +sleeping under one of the ledges on Tight Nippin. Was he alone? “I +charge you, by the roes and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not +nor awake my love till he please.” + +The doe was feeding, daintily cropping the tender leaves of the young +shoots, and turning from time to time to regard her offspring. The fawn +had taken his morning meal, and now lay curled up on a bed of moss, +watching contentedly, with his large, soft brown eyes, every movement of +his mother. The great eyes followed her with an alert entreaty; and, if +the mother stepped a pace or two farther away in feeding, the fawn made +a half movement, as if to rise and follow her. You see, she was his +sole dependence in all the world. But he was quickly reassured when she +turned her gaze on him; and if, in alarm, he uttered a plaintive cry, +she bounded to him at once, and, with every demonstration of affection, +licked his mottled skin till it shone again. + +It was a pretty picture,--maternal love on the one part, and happy trust +on the other. The doe was a beauty, and would have been so considered +anywhere, as graceful and winning a creature as the sun that day shone +on,--slender limbs, not too heavy flanks, round body, and aristocratic +head, with small ears, and luminous, intelligent, affectionate eyes. +How alert, supple, free, she was! What untaught grace in every movement! +What a charming pose when she lifted her head, and turned it to regard +her child! You would have had a companion picture if you had seen, as I +saw that morning, a baby kicking about among the dry pine-needles on a +ledge above the Au Sable, in the valley below, while its young mother +sat near, with an easel before her, touching in the color of a reluctant +landscape, giving a quick look at the sky and the outline of the Twin +Mountains, and bestowing every third glance upon the laughing boy,--art +in its infancy. + +The doe lifted her head a little with a quick motion, and turned her ear +to the south. Had she heard something? Probably it was only the south +wind in the balsams. There was silence all about in the forest. If the +doe had heard anything, it was one of the distant noises of the world. +There are in the woods occasional moanings, premonitions of change, +which are inaudible to the dull ears of men, but which, I have no +doubt, the forest-folk hear and understand. If the doe's suspicions were +excited for an instant, they were gone as soon. With an affectionate +glance at her fawn, she continued picking up her breakfast. + +But suddenly she started, head erect, eyes dilated, a tremor in her +limbs. She took a step; she turned her head to the south; she listened +intently. There was a sound,--a distant, prolonged note, bell-toned, +pervading the woods, shaking the air in smooth vibrations. It was +repeated. The doe had no doubt now. She shook like the sensitive mimosa +when a footstep approaches. It was the baying of a hound! It was far +off,--at the foot of the mountain. Time enough to fly; time enough to +put miles between her and the hound, before he should come upon her +fresh trail; time enough to escape away through the dense forest, and +hide in the recesses of Panther Gorge; yes, time enough. But there was +the fawn. The cry of the hound was repeated, more distinct this time. +The mother instinctively bounded away a few paces. The fawn started up +with an anxious bleat: the doe turned; she came back; she couldn't leave +it. She bent over it, and licked it, and seemed to say, “Come, my child: +we are pursued: we must go.” She walked away towards the west, and the +little thing skipped after her. It was slow going for the slender legs, +over the fallen logs, and through the rasping bushes. The doe bounded in +advance, and waited: the fawn scrambled after her, slipping and tumbling +along, very groggy yet on its legs, and whining a good deal because its +mother kept always moving away from it. The fawn evidently did not hear +the hound: the little innocent would even have looked sweetly at the +dog, and tried to make friends with it, if the brute had been rushing +upon him. By all the means at her command the doe urged her young one +on; but it was slow work. She might have been a mile away while they +were making a few rods. Whenever the fawn caught up, he was quite +content to frisk about. He wanted more breakfast, for one thing; and his +mother wouldn't stand still. She moved on continually; and his weak legs +were tangled in the roots of the narrow deer-path. + +Shortly came a sound that threw the doe into a panic of terror,--a +short, sharp yelp, followed by a prolonged howl, caught up and reechoed +by other bayings along the mountain-side. The doe knew what that meant. +One hound had caught her trail, and the whole pack responded to the +“view-halloo.” The danger was certain now; it was near. She could not +crawl on in this way: the dogs would soon be upon them. She turned again +for flight: the fawn, scrambling after her, tumbled over, and bleated +piteously. The baying, emphasized now by the yelp of certainty, came +nearer. Flight with the fawn was impossible. The doe returned and stood +by it, head erect, and nostrils distended. She stood perfectly still, +but trembling. Perhaps she was thinking. The fawn took advantage of the +situation, and began to draw his luncheon ration. The doe seemed to +have made up her mind. She let him finish. The fawn, having taken all he +wanted, lay down contentedly, and the doe licked him for a moment. Then, +with the swiftness of a bird, she dashed away, and in a moment was lost +in the forest. She went in the direction of the hounds. + +According to all human calculations, she was going into the jaws of +death. So she was: all human calculations are selfish. She kept straight +on, hearing the baying every moment more distinctly. She descended +the slope of the mountain until she reached the more open forest of +hard-wood. It was freer going here, and the cry of the pack echoed more +resoundingly in the great spaces. She was going due east, when (judging +by the sound, the hounds were not far off, though they were still hidden +by a ridge) she turned short away to the north, and kept on at a +good pace. In five minutes more she heard the sharp, exultant yelp of +discovery, and then the deep-mouthed howl of pursuit. The hounds had +struck her trail where she turned, and the fawn was safe. + +The doe was in good running condition, the ground was not bad, and she +felt the exhilaration of the chase. For the moment, fear left her, and +she bounded on with the exaltation of triumph. For a quarter of an hour +she went on at a slapping pace, clearing the moose-bushes with bound +after bound, flying over the fallen logs, pausing neither for brook nor +ravine. The baying of the hounds grew fainter behind her. But she struck +a bad piece of going, a dead-wood slash. It was marvelous to see her +skim over it, leaping among its intricacies, and not breaking her +slender legs. No other living animal could do it. But it was killing +work. She began to pant fearfully; she lost ground. The baying of the +hounds was nearer. She climbed the hard-wood hill at a slower gait; but, +once on more level, free ground, her breath came back to her, and she +stretched away with new courage, and maybe a sort of contempt of her +heavy pursuers. + +After running at high speed perhaps half a mile farther, it occurred +to her that it would be safe now to turn to the west, and, by a wide +circuit, seek her fawn. But, at the moment, she heard a sound that +chilled her heart. It was the cry of a hound to the west of her. The +crafty brute had made the circuit of the slash, and cut off her retreat. +There was nothing to do but to keep on; and on she went, still to the +north, with the noise of the pack behind her. In five minutes more she +had passed into a hillside clearing. Cows and young steers were grazing +there. She heard a tinkle of bells. Below her, down the mountain slope, +were other clearings, broken by patches of woods. Fences intervened; +and a mile or two down lay the valley, the shining Au Sable, and the +peaceful farmhouses. That way also her hereditary enemies were. Not a +merciful heart in all that lovely valley. She hesitated: it was only for +an instant. She must cross the Slidebrook Valley if possible, and gain +the mountain opposite. She bounded on; she stopped. What was that? From +the valley ahead came the cry of a searching hound. All the devils were +loose this morning. Every way was closed but one, and that led straight +down the mountain to the cluster of houses. Conspicuous among them was +a slender white wooden spire. The doe did not know that it was the spire +of a Christian chapel. But perhaps she thought that human pity dwelt +there, and would be more merciful than the teeth of the hounds. + + “The hounds are baying on my track: + O white man! will you send me back?” + +In a panic, frightened animals will always flee to human-kind from the +danger of more savage foes. They always make a mistake in doing so. +Perhaps the trait is the survival of an era of peace on earth; perhaps +it is a prophecy of the golden age of the future. The business of this +age is murder,--the slaughter of animals, the slaughter of fellow-men, +by the wholesale. Hilarious poets who have never fired a gun write +hunting-songs,--Ti-ra-la: and good bishops write war-songs,--Ave the +Czar! + +The hunted doe went down the “open,” clearing the fences splendidly, +flying along the stony path. It was a beautiful sight. But consider what +a shot it was! If the deer, now, could only have been caught I No doubt +there were tenderhearted people in the valley who would have spared her +life, shut her up in a stable, and petted her. Was there one who +would have let her go back to her waiting-fawn? It is the business of +civilization to tame or kill. + +The doe went on. She left the sawmill on John's Brook to her right; she +turned into a wood-path. As she approached Slide Brook, she saw a boy +standing by a tree with a raised rifle. The dogs were not in sight; +but she could hear them coming down the hill. There was no time for +hesitation. With a tremendous burst of speed she cleared the stream, +and, as she touched the bank, heard the “ping” of a rifle bullet in the +air above her. The cruel sound gave wings to the poor thing. In a moment +more she was in the opening: she leaped into the traveled road. Which +way? Below her in the wood was a load of hay: a man and a boy, with +pitchforks in their hands, were running towards her. She turned south, +and flew along the street. The town was up. Women and children ran to +the doors and windows; men snatched their rifles; shots were fired; at +the big boarding-houses, the summer boarders, who never have anything +to do, came out and cheered; a campstool was thrown from a veranda. Some +young fellows shooting at a mark in the meadow saw the flying deer, and +popped away at her; but they were accustomed to a mark that stood still. +It was all so sudden! There were twenty people who were just going to +shoot her; when the doe leaped the road fence, and went away across a +marsh toward the foothills. It was a fearful gauntlet to run. But nobody +except the deer considered it in that light. Everybody told what he was +just going to do; everybody who had seen the performance was a kind of +hero,--everybody except the deer. For days and days it was the subject +of conversation; and the summer boarders kept their guns at hand, +expecting another deer would come to be shot at. + +The doe went away to the foothills, going now slower, and evidently +fatigued, if not frightened half to death. Nothing is so appalling to a +recluse as half a mile of summer boarders. As the deer entered the thin +woods, she saw a rabble of people start across the meadow in pursuit. +By this time, the dogs, panting, and lolling out their tongues, came +swinging along, keeping the trail, like stupids, and consequently losing +ground when the deer doubled. But, when the doe had got into the timber, +she heard the savage brutes howling across the meadow. (It is well +enough, perhaps, to say that nobody offered to shoot the dogs.) + +The courage of the panting fugitive was not gone: she was game to the +tip of her high-bred ears. But the fearful pace at which she had just +been going told on her. Her legs trembled, and her heart beat like a +trip-hammer. She slowed her speed perforce, but still fled industriously +up the right bank of the stream. When she had gone a couple of miles, +and the dogs were evidently gaining again, she crossed the broad, deep +brook, climbed the steep left bank, and fled on in the direction of the +Mount-Marcy trail. The fording of the river threw the hounds off for +a time. She knew, by their uncertain yelping up and down the opposite +bank, that she had a little respite: she used it, however, to push on +until the baying was faint in her ears; and then she dropped, exhausted, +upon the ground. + +This rest, brief as it was, saved her life. Roused again by the baying +pack, she leaped forward with better speed, though without that keen +feeling of exhilarating flight that she had in the morning. It was still +a race for life; but the odds were in her--favor, she thought. She +did not appreciate the dogged persistence of the hounds, nor had any +inspiration told her that the race is not to the swift. + +She was a little confused in her mind where to go; but an instinct kept +her course to the left, and consequently farther away from her fawn. +Going now slower, and now faster, as the pursuit seemed more distant +or nearer, she kept to the southwest, crossed the stream again, left +Panther Gorge on her right, and ran on by Haystack and Skylight in the +direction of the Upper Au Sable Pond. I do not know her exact course +through this maze of mountains, swamps, ravines, and frightful +wildernesses. I only know that the poor thing worked her way along +painfully, with sinking heart and unsteady limbs, lying down “dead beat” + at intervals, and then spurred on by the cry of the remorseless dogs, +until, late in the afternoon, she staggered down the shoulder of +Bartlett, and stood upon the shore of the lake. If she could put that +piece of water between her and her pursuers, she would be safe. Had she +strength to swim it? + +At her first step into the water she saw a sight that sent her back with +a bound. There was a boat mid-lake: two men were in it. One was rowing: +the other had a gun in his hand. They were looking towards her: they had +seen her. (She did not know that they had heard the baying of hounds on +the mountains, and had been lying in wait for her an hour.) What should +she do? The hounds were drawing near. No escape that way, even if she +could still run. With only a moment's hesitation she plunged into the +lake, and struck obliquely across. Her tired legs could not propel the +tired body rapidly. She saw the boat headed for her. She turned toward +the centre of the lake. The boat turned. She could hear the rattle of +the oarlocks. It was gaining on her. Then there was a silence. Then +there was a splash of the water just ahead of her, followed by a roar +round the lake, the words “Confound it all!” and a rattle of the oars +again. The doe saw the boat nearing her. She turned irresolutely to +the shore whence she came: the dogs were lapping the water, and howling +there. She turned again to the center of the lake. + +The brave, pretty creature was quite exhausted now. In a moment more, +with a rush of water, the boat was on her, and the man at the oars had +leaned over and caught her by the tail. + +“Knock her on the head with that paddle!” he shouted to the gentleman in +the stern. + +The gentleman was a gentleman, with a kind, smooth-shaven face, and +might have been a minister of some sort of everlasting gospel. He took +the paddle in his hand. Just then the doe turned her head, and looked at +him with her great, appealing eyes. + +“I can't do it! my soul, I can't do it!” and he dropped the paddle. “Oh, +let her go!” + +“Let H. go!” was the only response of the guide as he slung the deer +round, whipped out his hunting-knife, and made a pass that severed her +jugular. + +And the gentleman ate that night of the venison. + +The buck returned about the middle of the afternoon. The fawn was +bleating piteously, hungry and lonesome. The buck was surprised. He +looked about in the forest. He took a circuit, and came back. His doe +was nowhere to be seen. He looked down at the fawn in a helpless sort of +way. The fawn appealed for his supper. The buck had nothing whatever to +give his child,--nothing but his sympathy. If he said anything, this is +what he said: “I'm the head of this family; but, really, this is a novel +case. I've nothing whatever for you. I don't know what to do. I've the +feelings of a father; but you can't live on them. Let us travel.” + +The buck walked away: the little one toddled after him. They disappeared +in the forest. + + + + +V. A CHARACTER STUDY + +There has been a lively inquiry after the primeval man. Wanted, a man +who would satisfy the conditions of the miocene environment, and yet +would be good enough for an ancestor. We are not particular about our +ancestors, if they are sufficiently remote; but we must have something. +Failing to apprehend the primeval man, science has sought the primitive +man where he exists as a survival in present savage races. He is, at +best, only a mushroom growth of the recent period (came in, probably, +with the general raft of mammalian fauna); but he possesses yet some +rudimentary traits that may be studied. + +It is a good mental exercise to try to fix the mind on the primitive man +divested of all the attributes he has acquired in his struggles with +the other mammalian fauna. Fix the mind on an orange, the ordinary +occupation of the metaphysician: take from it (without eating it) odor, +color, weight, form, substance, and peel; then let the mind still dwell +on it as an orange. The experiment is perfectly successful; only, at the +end of it, you haven't any mind. Better still, consider the telephone: +take away from it the metallic disk, and the magnetized iron, and the +connecting wire, and then let the mind run abroad on the telephone. +The mind won't come back. I have tried by this sort of process to get a +conception of the primitive man. I let the mind roam away back over +the vast geologic spaces, and sometimes fancy I see a dim image of him +stalking across the terrace epoch of the quaternary period. + +But this is an unsatisfying pleasure. The best results are obtained by +studying the primitive man as he is left here and there in our era, +a witness of what has been; and I find him most to my mind in the +Adirondack system of what geologists call the Champlain epoch. I suppose +the primitive man is one who owes more to nature than to the forces of +civilization. What we seek in him are the primal and original traits, +unmixed with the sophistications of society, and unimpaired by the +refinements of an artificial culture. He would retain the primitive +instincts, which are cultivated out of the ordinary, commonplace man. +I should expect to find him, by reason of an unrelinquished kinship, +enjoying a special communion with nature,--admitted to its mysteries, +understanding its moods, and able to predict its vagaries. He would be a +kind of test to us of what we have lost by our gregarious acquisitions. +On the one hand, there would be the sharpness of the senses, the keen +instincts (which the fox and the beaver still possess), the ability to +find one's way in the pathless forest, to follow a trail, to circumvent +the wild denizens of the woods; and, on the other hand, there would be +the philosophy of life which the primitive man, with little external +aid, would evolve from original observation and cogitation. It is our +good fortune to know such a man; but it is difficult to present him to +a scientific and caviling generation. He emigrated from somewhat limited +conditions in Vermont, at an early age, nearly half a century ago, and +sought freedom for his natural development backward in the wilds of the +Adirondacks. Sometimes it is a love of adventure and freedom that sends +men out of the more civilized conditions into the less; sometimes it is +a constitutional physical lassitude which leads them to prefer the rod +to the hoe, the trap to the sickle, and the society of bears to town +meetings and taxes. I think that Old Mountain Phelps had merely the +instincts of the primitive man, and never any hostile civilizing intent +as to the wilderness into which he plunged. Why should he want to slash +away the forest and plow up the ancient mould, when it is infinitely +pleasanter to roam about in the leafy solitudes, or sit upon a mossy log +and listen to the chatter of birds and the stir of beasts? Are there not +trout in the streams, gum exuding from the spruce, sugar in the maples, +honey in the hollow trees, fur on the sables, warmth in hickory logs? +Will not a few days' planting and scratching in the “open” yield +potatoes and rye? And, if there is steadier diet needed than venison +and bear, is the pig an expensive animal? If Old Phelps bowed to the +prejudice or fashion of his age (since we have come out of the tertiary +state of things), and reared a family, built a frame house in a +secluded nook by a cold spring, planted about it some apple trees and a +rudimentary garden, and installed a group of flaming sunflowers by the +door, I am convinced that it was a concession that did not touch his +radical character; that is to say, it did not impair his reluctance to +split oven-wood. + +He was a true citizen of the wilderness. Thoreau would have liked him, +as he liked Indians and woodchucks, and the smell of pine forests; and, +if Old Phelps had seen Thoreau, he would probably have said to him, “Why +on airth, Mr. Thoreau, don't you live accordin' to your preachin'?” + You might be misled by the shaggy suggestion of Old Phelps's given +name--Orson--into the notion that he was a mighty hunter, with the +fierce spirit of the Berserkers in his veins. Nothing could be farther +from the truth. The hirsute and grisly sound of Orson expresses only his +entire affinity with the untamed and the natural, an uncouth but gentle +passion for the freedom and wildness of the forest. Orson Phelps has +only those unconventional and humorous qualities of the bear which +make the animal so beloved in literature; and one does not think of Old +Phelps so much as a lover of nature,--to use the sentimental slang of +the period,--as a part of nature itself. + +His appearance at the time when as a “guide” he began to come into +public notice fostered this impression,--a sturdy figure with long body +and short legs, clad in a woolen shirt and butternut-colored trousers +repaired to the point of picturesqueness, his head surmounted by a limp, +light-brown felt hat, frayed away at the top, so that his yellowish hair +grew out of it like some nameless fern out of a pot. His tawny hair was +long and tangled, matted now many years past the possibility of being +entered by a comb. + +His features were small and delicate, and set in the frame of a reddish +beard, the razor having mowed away a clearing about the sensitive mouth, +which was not seldom wreathed with a childlike and charming smile. +Out of this hirsute environment looked the small gray eyes, set near +together; eyes keen to observe, and quick to express change of thought; +eyes that made you believe instinct can grow into philosophic judgment. +His feet and hands were of aristocratic smallness, although the latter +were not worn away by ablutions; in fact, they assisted his toilet to +give you the impression that here was a man who had just come out of +the ground,--a real son of the soil, whose appearance was partially +explained by his humorous relation to-soap. “Soap is a thing,” he said, +“that I hain't no kinder use for.” His clothes seemed to have been +put on him once for all, like the bark of a tree, a long time ago. +The observant stranger was sure to be puzzled by the contrast of this +realistic and uncouth exterior with the internal fineness, amounting to +refinement and culture, that shone through it all. What communion had +supplied the place of our artificial breeding to this man? + +Perhaps his most characteristic attitude was sitting on a log, with a +short pipe in his mouth. If ever man was formed to sit on a log, it +was Old Phelps. He was essentially a contemplative person. Walking on +a country road, or anywhere in the “open,” was irksome to him. He had +a shambling, loose-jointed gait, not unlike that of the bear: his short +legs bowed out, as if they had been more in the habit of climbing +trees than of walking. On land, if we may use that expression, he was +something like a sailor; but, once in the rugged trail or the unmarked +route of his native forest, he was a different person, and few +pedestrians could compete with him. The vulgar estimate of his +contemporaries, that reckoned Old Phelps “lazy,” was simply a failure +to comprehend the conditions of his being. It is the unjustness of +civilization that it sets up uniform and artificial standards for all +persons. The primitive man suffers by them much as the contemplative +philosopher does, when one happens to arrive in this busy, fussy world. + +If the appearance of Old Phelps attracts attention, his voice, when +first heard, invariably startles the listener. A small, high-pitched, +half-querulous voice, it easily rises into the shrillest falsetto; and +it has a quality in it that makes it audible in all the tempests of the +forest, or the roar of rapids, like the piping of a boatswain's whistle +at sea in a gale. He has a way of letting it rise as his sentence goes +on, or when he is opposed in argument, or wishes to mount above other +voices in the conversation, until it dominates everything. Heard in the +depths of the woods, quavering aloft, it is felt to be as much a part +of nature, an original force, as the northwest wind or the scream of the +hen-hawk. When he is pottering about the camp-fire, trying to light +his pipe with a twig held in the flame, he is apt to begin some +philosophical observation in a small, slow, stumbling voice, which seems +about to end in defeat; when he puts on some unsuspected force, and the +sentence ends in an insistent shriek. Horace Greeley had such a voice, +and could regulate it in the same manner. But Phelps's voice is not +seldom plaintive, as if touched by the dreamy sadness of the woods +themselves. + +When Old Mountain Phelps was discovered, he was, as the reader has +already guessed, not understood by his contemporaries. His neighbors, +farmers in the secluded valley, had many of them grown thrifty and +prosperous, cultivating the fertile meadows, and vigorously attacking +the timbered mountains; while Phelps, with not much more faculty of +acquiring property than the roaming deer, had pursued the even tenor +of the life in the forest on which he set out. They would have been +surprised to be told that Old Phelps owned more of what makes the value +of the Adirondacks than all of them put together, but it was true. This +woodsman, this trapper, this hunter, this fisherman, this sitter on a +log, and philosopher, was the real proprietor of the region over +which he was ready to guide the stranger. It is true that he had not a +monopoly of its geography or its topography (though his knowledge was +superior in these respects); there were other trappers, and more deadly +hunters, and as intrepid guides: but Old Phelps was the discoverer of +the beauties and sublimities of the mountains; and, when city strangers +broke into the region, he monopolized the appreciation of these delights +and wonders of nature. I suppose that in all that country he alone +had noticed the sunsets, and observed the delightful processes of +the seasons, taken pleasure in the woods for themselves, and climbed +mountains solely for the sake of the prospect. He alone understood what +was meant by “scenery.” In the eyes of his neighbors, who did not know +that he was a poet and a philosopher, I dare say he appeared to be +a slack provider, a rather shiftless trapper and fisherman; and his +passionate love of the forest and the mountains, if it was noticed, was +accounted to him for idleness. When the appreciative tourist arrived, +Phelps was ready, as guide, to open to him all the wonders of his +possessions; he, for the first time, found an outlet for his enthusiasm, +and a response to his own passion. It then became known what manner +of man this was who had grown up here in the companionship of forests, +mountains, and wild animals; that these scenes had highly developed in +him the love of beauty, the aesthetic sense, delicacy of appreciation, +refinement of feeling; and that, in his solitary wanderings and musings, +the primitive man, self-taught, had evolved for himself a philosophy and +a system of things. And it was a sufficient system, so long as it was +not disturbed by external skepticism. When the outer world came to +him, perhaps he had about as much to give to it as to receive from it; +probably more, in his own estimation; for there is no conceit like that +of isolation. + +Phelps loved his mountains. He was the discoverer of Marcy, and caused +the first trail to be cut to its summit, so that others could enjoy +the noble views from its round and rocky top. To him it was, in noble +symmetry and beauty, the chief mountain of the globe. To stand on it +gave him, as he said, “a feeling of heaven up-h'istedness.” He heard +with impatience that Mount Washington was a thousand feet higher, and he +had a childlike incredulity about the surpassing sublimity of the Alps. +Praise of any other elevation he seemed to consider a slight to Mount +Marcy, and did not willingly hear it, any more than a lover hears the +laudation of the beauty of another woman than the one he loves. When he +showed us scenery he loved, it made him melancholy to have us speak of +scenery elsewhere that was finer. And yet there was this delicacy about +him, that he never over-praised what he brought us to see, any more than +one would over-praise a friend of whom he was fond. I remember that when +for the first time, after a toilsome journey through the forest, the +splendors of the Lower Au Sable Pond broke upon our vision,--that +low-lying silver lake, imprisoned by the precipices which it reflected +in its bosom,--he made no outward response to our burst of admiration: +only a quiet gleam of the eye showed the pleasure our appreciation +gave him. As some one said, it was as if his friend had been admired--a +friend about whom he was unwilling to say much himself, but well pleased +to have others praise. + +Thus far, we have considered Old Phelps as simply the product of the +Adirondacks; not so much a self-made man (as the doubtful phrase has it) +as a natural growth amid primal forces. But our study is interrupted +by another influence, which complicates the problem, but increases its +interest. No scientific observer, so far as we know, has ever been able +to watch the development of the primitive man, played upon and fashioned +by the hebdomadal iteration of “Greeley's Weekly Tri-bune.” Old Phelps +educated by the woods is a fascinating study; educated by the woods +and the Tri-bune, he is a phenomenon. No one at this day can reasonably +conceive exactly what this newspaper was to such a mountain valley as +Keene. If it was not a Providence, it was a Bible. It was no doubt owing +to it that Democrats became as scarce as moose in the Adirondacks. But +it is not of its political aspect that I speak. I suppose that the most +cultivated and best informed portion of the earth's surface--the Western +Reserve of Ohio, as free from conceit as it is from a suspicion that +it lacks anything owes its pre-eminence solely to this comprehensive +journal. It received from it everything except a collegiate and a +classical education,--things not to be desired, since they interfere +with the self-manufacture of man. If Greek had been in this curriculum, +its best known dictum would have been translated, “Make thyself.” This +journal carried to the community that fed on it not only a complete +education in all departments of human practice and theorizing, but the +more valuable and satisfying assurance that there was nothing more to be +gleaned in the universe worth the attention of man. This panoplied its +readers in completeness. Politics, literature, arts, sciences, universal +brotherhood and sisterhood, nothing was omitted; neither the poetry of +Tennyson, nor the philosophy of Margaret Fuller; neither the virtues of +association, nor of unbolted wheat. The laws of political economy and +trade were laid down as positively and clearly as the best way to bake +beans, and the saving truth that the millennium would come, and come +only when every foot of the earth was subsoiled. + +I do not say that Orson Phelps was the product of nature and the +Tri-bune: but he cannot be explained without considering these two +factors. To him Greeley was the Tri-bune, and the Tri-bune was Greeley; +and yet I think he conceived of Horace Greeley as something greater than +his newspaper, and perhaps capable of producing another journal equal +to it in another part of the universe. At any rate, so completely did +Phelps absorb this paper and this personality that he was popularly +known as “Greeley” in the region where he lived. Perhaps a fancied +resemblance of the two men in the popular mind had something to do with +this transfer of name. There is no doubt that Horace Greeley owed his +vast influence in the country to his genius, nor much doubt that he owed +his popularity in the rural districts to James Gordon Bennett; that is, +to the personality of the man which the ingenious Bennett impressed upon +the country. That he despised the conventionalities of society, and was +a sloven in his toilet, was firmly believed; and the belief endeared him +to the hearts of the people. To them “the old white coat”--an antique +garment of unrenewed immortality--was as much a subject of idolatry as +the redingote grise to the soldiers of the first Napoleon, who had seen +it by the campfires on the Po and on the Borysthenes, and believed that +he would come again in it to lead them against the enemies of France. +The Greeley of the popular heart was clad as Bennett said he was clad. +It was in vain, even pathetically in vain, that he published in his +newspaper the full bill of his fashionable tailor (the fact that it was +receipted may have excited the animosity of some of his contemporaries) +to show that he wore the best broadcloth, and that the folds of his +trousers followed the city fashion of falling outside his boots. If this +revelation was believed, it made no sort of impression in the country. +The rural readers were not to be wheedled out of their cherished +conception of the personal appearance of the philosopher of the +Tri-bune. + +That the Tri-bune taught Old Phelps to be more Phelps than he would +have been without it was part of the independence-teaching mission of +Greeley's paper. The subscribers were an army, in which every man was a +general. And I am not surprised to find Old Phelps lately rising to +the audacity of criticising his exemplar. In some recently-published +observations by Phelps upon the philosophy of reading is laid down this +definition: “If I understand the necessity or use of reading, it is to +reproduce again what has been said or proclaimed before. Hence, letters, +characters, &c., are arranged in all the perfection they possibly can +be, to show how certain language has been spoken by the original author. +Now, to reproduce by reading, the reading should be so perfectly like +the original that no one standing out of sight could tell the reading +from the first time the language was spoken.” + +This is illustrated by the highest authority at hand: I have heard +as good readers read, and as poor readers, as almost any one in this +region. If I have not heard as many, I have had a chance to hear nearly +the extreme in variety. Horace Greeley ought to have been a good reader. +Certainly but few, if any, ever knew every word of the English language +at a glance more readily than he did, or knew the meaning of every mark +of punctuation more clearly; but he could not read proper. 'But how +do you know?' says one. From the fact I heard him in the same lecture +deliver or produce remarks in his own particular way, that, if they had +been published properly in print, a proper reader would have reproduced +them again the same way. In the midst of those remarks Mr. Greeley took +up a paper, to reproduce by reading part of a speech that some one else +had made; and his reading did not sound much more like the man that +first read or made the speech than the clatter of a nail factory sounds +like a well-delivered speech. Now, the fault was not because Mr. Greeley +did not know how to read as well as almost any man that ever lived, if +not quite: but in his youth he learned to read wrong; and, as it is +ten times harder to unlearn anything than it is to learn it, he, like +thousands of others, could never stop to unlearn it, but carried it on +through his whole life. + +Whether a reader would be thanked for reproducing one of Horace +Greeley's lectures as he delivered it is a question that cannot detain +us here; but the teaching that he ought to do so, I think, would please +Mr. Greeley. + +The first driblets of professional tourists and summer boarders who +arrived among the Adirondack Mountains a few years ago found Old Phelps +the chief and best guide of the region. Those who were eager to throw +off the usages of civilization, and tramp and camp in the wilderness, +could not but be well satisfied with the aboriginal appearance of this +guide; and when he led off into the woods, axe in hand, and a huge +canvas sack upon his shoulders, they seemed to be following the +Wandering Jew. The contents--of this sack would have furnished a modern +industrial exhibition, provisions cooked and raw, blankets, maple-sugar, +tinware, clothing, pork, Indian meal, flour, coffee, tea, &c. Phelps was +the ideal guide: he knew every foot of the pathless forest; he knew all +woodcraft, all the signs of the weather, or, what is the same thing, how +to make a Delphic prediction about it. He was fisherman and hunter, and +had been the comrade of sportsmen and explorers; and his enthusiasm for +the beauty and sublimity of the region, and for its untamable wildness, +amounted to a passion. He loved his profession; and yet it very soon +appeared that he exercised it with reluctance for those who had neither +ideality, nor love for the woods. Their presence was a profanation amid +the scenery he loved. To guide into his private and secret haunts a +party that had no appreciation of their loveliness disgusted him. It was +a waste of his time to conduct flippant young men and giddy girls who +made a noisy and irreverent lark of the expedition. And, for their part, +they did not appreciate the benefit of being accompanied by a poet and +a philosopher. They neither understood nor valued his special knowledge +and his shrewd observations: they didn't even like his shrill voice; +his quaint talk bored them. It was true that, at this period, Phelps +had lost something of the activity of his youth; and the habit +of contemplative sitting on a log and talking increased with the +infirmities induced by the hard life of the woodsman. Perhaps he would +rather talk, either about the woods-life or the various problems of +existence, than cut wood, or busy himself in the drudgery of the camp. +His critics went so far as to say, “Old Phelps is a fraud.” They would +have said the same of Socrates. Xantippe, who never appreciated the +world in which Socrates lived, thought he was lazy. Probably Socrates +could cook no better than Old Phelps, and no doubt went “gumming” about +Athens with very little care of what was in the pot for dinner. + +If the summer visitors measured Old Phelps, he also measured them by +his own standards. He used to write out what he called “short-faced +descriptions” of his comrades in the woods, which were never so +flattering as true. It was curious to see how the various qualities +which are esteemed in society appeared in his eyes, looked at merely +in their relation to the limited world he knew, and judged by their +adaptation to the primitive life. It was a much subtler comparison than +that of the ordinary guide, who rates his traveler by his ability to +endure on a march, to carry a pack, use an oar, hit a mark, or sing +a song. Phelps brought his people to a test of their naturalness and +sincerity, tried by contact with the verities of the woods. If a person +failed to appreciate the woods, Phelps had no opinion of him or his +culture; and yet, although he was perfectly satisfied with his own +philosophy of life, worked out by close observation of nature and study +of the Tri-bune, he was always eager for converse with superior minds, +with those who had the advantage of travel and much reading, and, above +all, with those who had any original “speckerlation.” Of all the society +he was ever permitted to enjoy, I think he prized most that of Dr. +Bushnell. The doctor enjoyed the quaint and first-hand observations of +the old woodsman, and Phelps found new worlds open to him in the wide +ranges of the doctor's mind. They talked by the hour upon all sorts +of themes, the growth of the tree, the habits of wild animals, the +migration of seeds, the succession of oak and pine, not to mention +theology, and the mysteries of the supernatural. + +I recall the bearing of Old Phelps, when, several years ago, he +conducted a party to the summit of Mount Marcy by the way he had “bushed +out.” This was his mountain, and he had a peculiar sense of ownership in +it. In a way, it was holy ground; and he would rather no one should +go on it who did not feel its sanctity. Perhaps it was a sense of some +divine relation in it that made him always speak of it as “Mercy.” To +him this ridiculously dubbed Mount Marcy was always “Mount Mercy.” By a +like effort to soften the personal offensiveness of the nomenclature +of this region, he invariably spoke of Dix's Peak, one of the southern +peaks of the range, as “Dixie.” It was some time since Phelps himself +had visited his mountain; and, as he pushed on through the miles of +forest, we noticed a kind of eagerness in the old man, as of a lover +going to a rendezvous. Along the foot of the mountain flows a clear +trout stream, secluded and undisturbed in those awful solitudes, which +is the “Mercy Brook” of the old woodsman. That day when he crossed it, +in advance of his company, he was heard to say in a low voice, as if +greeting some object of which he was shyly fond, “So, little brook, do I +meet you once more?” and when we were well up the mountain, and emerged +from the last stunted fringe of vegetation upon the rock-bound slope, +I saw Old Phelps, who was still foremost, cast himself upon the ground, +and heard him cry, with an enthusiasm that was intended for no mortal +ear, “I'm with you once again!” His great passion very rarely found +expression in any such theatrical burst. The bare summit that day was +swept by a fierce, cold wind, and lost in an occasional chilling cloud. +Some of the party, exhausted by the climb, and shivering in the rude +wind, wanted a fire kindled and a cup of tea made, and thought this the +guide's business. Fire and tea were far enough from his thought. He had +withdrawn himself quite apart, and wrapped in a ragged blanket, still +and silent as the rock he stood on, was gazing out upon the wilderness +of peaks. The view from Marcy is peculiar. It is without softness or +relief. The narrow valleys are only dark shadows; the lakes are bits +of broken mirror. From horizon to horizon there is a tumultuous sea of +billows turned to stone. You stand upon the highest billow; you command +the situation; you have surprised Nature in a high creative act; the +mighty primal energy has only just become repose. This was a supreme +hour to Old Phelps. Tea! I believe the boys succeeded in kindling a +fire; but the enthusiastic stoic had no reason to complain of want of +appreciation in the rest of the party. When we were descending, he told +us, with mingled humor and scorn, of a party of ladies he once led to +the top of the mountain on a still day, who began immediately to talk +about the fashions! As he related the scene, stopping and facing us in +the trail, his mild, far-in eyes came to the front, and his voice rose +with his language to a kind of scream. + +“Why, there they were, right before the greatest view they ever saw, +talkin' about the fashions!” + +Impossible to convey the accent of contempt in which he pronounced the +word “fashions,” and then added, with a sort of regretful bitterness, “I +was a great mind to come down, and leave 'em there.” + +In common with the Greeks, Old Phelps personified the woods, mountains, +and streams. They had not only personality, but distinctions of sex. It +was something beyond the characterization of the hunter, which +appeared, for instance, when he related a fight with a panther, in such +expressions as, “Then Mr. Panther thought he would see what he could +do,” etc. He was in “imaginative sympathy” with all wild things. The +afternoon we descended Marcy, we went away to the west, through the +primeval forests, toward Avalanche and Colden, and followed the course +of the charming Opalescent. When we reached the leaping stream, Phelps +exclaimed, + +“Here's little Miss Opalescent!” + +“Why don't you say Mr. Opalescent?” some one asked. + +“Oh, she's too pretty!” And too pretty she was, with her foam-white +and rainbow dress, and her downfalls, and fountainlike uprising. A +bewitching young person we found her all that summer afternoon. + +This sylph-like person had little in common with a monstrous lady whose +adventures in the wilderness Phelps was fond of relating. She was built +some thing on the plan of the mountains, and her ambition to explore was +equal to her size. Phelps and the other guides once succeeded in raising +her to the top of Marcy; but the feat of getting a hogshead of molasses +up there would have been easier. In attempting to give us an idea of her +magnitude that night, as we sat in the forest camp, Phelps hesitated a +moment, while he cast his eye around the woods: “Waal, there ain't no +tree!” + +It is only by recalling fragmentary remarks and incidents that I can put +the reader in possession of the peculiarities of my subject; and +this involves the wrenching of things out of their natural order and +continuity, and introducing them abruptly, an abruptness illustrated by +the remark of “Old Man Hoskins” (which Phelps liked to quote), when one +day he suddenly slipped down a bank into a thicket, and seated himself +in a wasps' nest: “I hain't no business here; but here I be!” + +The first time we went into camp on the Upper Au Sable Pond, which has +been justly celebrated as the most prettily set sheet of water in the +region, we were disposed to build our shanty on the south side, so that +we could have in full view the Gothics and that loveliest of mountain +contours. To our surprise, Old Phelps, whose sentimental weakness for +these mountains we knew, opposed this. His favorite camping ground was +on the north side,--a pretty site in itself, but with no special view. +In order to enjoy the lovely mountains, we should be obliged to row out +into the lake: we wanted them always before our eyes,--at sunrise and +sunset, and in the blaze of noon. With deliberate speech, as if weighing +our arguments and disposing of them, he replied, “Waal, now, them +Gothics ain't the kinder scenery you want ter hog down!” + +It was on quiet Sundays in the woods, or in talks by the camp-fire, that +Phelps came out as the philosopher, and commonly contributed the light +of his observations. Unfortunate marriages, and marriages in general, +were, on one occasion, the subject of discussion; and a good deal of +darkness had been cast on it by various speakers; when Phelps suddenly +piped up, from a log where he had sat silent, almost invisible, in the +shadow and smoke, “Waal, now, when you've said all there is to be said, +marriage is mostly for discipline.” + +Discipline, certainly, the old man had, in one way or another; and years +of solitary communing in the forest had given him, perhaps, a childlike +insight into spiritual concerns. Whether he had formulated any creed or +what faith he had, I never knew. Keene Valley had a reputation of not +ripening Christians any more successfully than maize, the season there +being short; and on our first visit it was said to contain but one +Bible Christian, though I think an accurate census disclosed three. Old +Phelps, who sometimes made abrupt remarks in trying situations, was not +included in this census; but he was the disciple of supernaturalism in a +most charming form. I have heard of his opening his inmost thoughts to +a lady, one Sunday, after a noble sermon of Robertson's had been read +in the cathedral stillness of the forest. His experience was entirely +first-hand, and related with unconsciousness that it was not common to +all. There was nothing of the mystic or the sentimentalist, only a vivid +realism, in that nearness of God of which he spoke,--“as near some-times +as those trees,”--and of the holy voice, that, in a time of inward +struggle, had seemed to him to come from the depths of the forest, +saying, “Poor soul, I am the way.” + +In later years there was a “revival” in Keene Valley, the result of +which was a number of young “converts,” whom Phelps seemed to regard +as a veteran might raw recruits, and to have his doubts what sort of +soldiers they would make. + +“Waal, Jimmy,” he said to one of them, “you've kindled a pretty good +fire with light wood. That's what we do of a dark night in the woods, +you know but we do it just so as we can look around and find the solid +wood: so now put on your solid wood.” + +In the Sunday Bible classes of the period Phelps was a perpetual anxiety +to the others, who followed closely the printed lessons, and beheld +with alarm his discursive efforts to get into freer air and light. His +remarks were the most refreshing part of the exercises, but were outside +of the safe path into which the others thought it necessary to win +him from his “speckerlations.” The class were one day on the verses +concerning “God's word” being “written on the heart,” and were keeping +close to the shore, under the guidance of “Barnes's Notes,” when Old +Phelps made a dive to the bottom, and remarked that he had “thought a +good deal about the expression, 'God's word written on the heart,' +and had been asking himself how that was to be done; and suddenly it +occurred to him (having been much interested lately in watching the work +of a photographer) that, when a photograph is going to be taken, all +that has to be done is to put the object in position, and the sun makes +the picture; and so he rather thought that all we had got to do was to +put our hearts in place, and God would do the writin'.” + +Phelps's theology, like his science, is first-hand. In the woods, one +day, talk ran on the Trinity as being nowhere asserted as a doctrine in +the Bible, and some one suggested that the attempt to pack these +great and fluent mysteries into one word must always be more or +less unsatisfactory. “Ye-es,” droned Phelps: “I never could see much +speckerlation in that expression the Trinity. Why, they'd a good deal +better say Legion.” + +The sentiment of the man about nature, or his poetic sensibility, was +frequently not to be distinguished from a natural religion, and was +always tinged with the devoutness of Wordsworth's verse. Climbing slowly +one day up the Balcony,--he was more than usually calm and slow,--he +espied an exquisite fragile flower in the crevice of a rock, in a very +lonely spot. + +“It seems as if,” he said, or rather dreamed out, “it seems as if the +Creator had kept something just to look at himself.” + +To a lady whom he had taken to Chapel Pond (a retired but rather +uninteresting spot), and who expressed a little disappointment at its +tameness, saying, of this “Why, Mr. Phelps, the principal charm of this +place seems to be its loneliness.” + +“Yes,” he replied in gentle and lingering tones, and its nativeness. “It +lies here just where it was born.” + +Rest and quiet had infinite attractions for him. A secluded opening in +the woods was a “calm spot.” He told of seeing once, or rather being in, +a circular rainbow. He stood on Indian Head, overlooking the Lower Lake, +so that he saw the whole bow in the sky and the lake, and seemed to be +in the midst of it; “only at one place there was an indentation in it, +where it rested on the lake, just enough to keep it from rolling off.” + This “resting” of the sphere seemed to give him great comfort. + +One Indian-summer morning in October, some ladies found the old man +sitting on his doorstep smoking a short pipe. + +He gave no sign of recognition except a twinkle of the eye, being +evidently quite in harmony with the peaceful day. They stood there a +full minute before he opened his mouth: then he did not rise, but slowly +took his pipe from his mouth, and said in a dreamy way, pointing towards +the brook,-- + +“Do you see that tree?” indicating a maple almost denuded of leaves, +which lay like a yellow garment cast at its feet. “I've been watching +that tree all the morning. There hain't been a breath of wind: but for +hours the leaves have been falling, falling, just as you see them now; +and at last it's pretty much bare.” And after a pause, pensively: “Waal, +I suppose its hour had come.” + +This contemplative habit of Old Phelps is wholly unappreciated by his +neighbors; but it has been indulged in no inconsiderable part of his +life. Rising after a time, he said, “Now I want you to go with me and +see my golden city I've talked so much about.” He led the way to a +hill-outlook, when suddenly, emerging from the forest, the spectators +saw revealed the winding valley and its stream. He said quietly, +“There is my golden city.” Far below, at their feet, they saw that vast +assemblage of birches and “popples,” yellow as gold in the brooding +noonday, and slender spires rising out of the glowing mass. Without +another word, Phelps sat a long time in silent content: it was to him, +as Bunyan says, “a place desirous to be in.” + +Is this philosopher contented with what life has brought him? Speaking +of money one day, when we had asked him if he should do differently if +he had his life to live over again, he said, “Yes, but not about money. +To have had hours such as I have had in these mountains, and with such +men as Dr. Bushnell and Dr. Shaw and Mr. Twichell, and others I could +name, is worth all the money the world could give.” He read +character very well, and took in accurately the boy nature. “Tom” (an +irrepressible, rather overdone specimen),--“Tom's a nice kind of a +boy; but he's got to come up against a snubbin'-post one of these +days.”--“Boys!” he once said: “you can't git boys to take any kinder +notice of scenery. I never yet saw a boy that would look a second +time at a sunset. Now, a girl will some times; but even then it's +instantaneous,--comes an goes like the sunset. As for me,” still +speaking of scenery, “these mountains about here, that I see every +day, are no more to me, in one sense, than a man's farm is to him. What +mostly interests me now is when I see some new freak or shape in the +face of Nature.” + +In literature it may be said that Old Phelps prefers the best in the +very limited range that has been open to him. Tennyson is his favorite +among poets an affinity explained by the fact that they are both +lotos-eaters. Speaking of a lecture-room talk of Mr. Beecher's which he +had read, he said, “It filled my cup about as full as I callerlate to +have it: there was a good deal of truth in it, and some poetry; waal, +and a little spice, too. We've got to have the spice, you know.” He +admired, for different reasons, a lecture by Greeley that he once heard, +into which so much knowledge of various kinds was crowded that he said +he “made a reg'lar gobble of it.” He was not without discrimination, +which he exercised upon the local preaching when nothing better offered. +Of one sermon he said, “The man began way back at the creation, and just +preached right along down; and he didn't say nothing, after all. It just +seemed to me as if he was tryin' to git up a kind of a fix-up.” + +Old Phelps used words sometimes like algebraic signs, and had a habit +of making one do duty for a season together for all occasions. +“Speckerlation” and “callerlation” and “fix-up” are specimens of words +that were prolific in expression. An unusual expression, or an unusual +article, would be charactcrized as a “kind of a scientific literary +git-up.” + +“What is the program for tomorrow?” I once asked him. “Waal, I +callerlate, if they rig up the callerlation they callerlate on, we'll +go to the Boreas.” Starting out for a day's tramp in the woods, he would +ask whether we wanted to take a “reg'lar walk, or a random scoot,”--the +latter being a plunge into the pathless forest. When he was on such an +expedition, and became entangled in dense brush, and maybe a network +of “slash” and swamp, he was like an old wizard, as he looked here and +there, seeking a way, peering into the tangle, or withdrawing from a +thicket, and muttering to himself, “There ain't no speckerlation there.” + And when the way became altogether inscrutable,--“Waal, this is a +reg'lar random scoot of a rigmarole.” As some one remarked, “The +dictionary in his hands is like clay in the hands of the potter.” “A +petrifaction was a kind of a hard-wood chemical git-up.” + +There is no conceit, we are apt to say, like that born of isolation +from the world, and there are no such conceited people as those who have +lived all their lives in the woods. Phelps was, however, unsophisticated +in his until the advent of strangers into his life, who brought in +literature and various other disturbing influences. I am sorry to say +that the effect has been to take off something of the bloom of his +simplicity, and to elevate him into an oracle. I suppose this is +inevitable as soon as one goes into print; and Phelps has gone into +print in the local papers. He has been bitten with the literary “git +up.” Justly regarding most of the Adirondack literature as a “perfect +fizzle,” he has himself projected a work, and written much on the +natural history of his region. Long ago he made a large map of the +mountain country; and, until recent surveys, it was the only one that +could lay any claim to accuracy. His history is no doubt original in +form, and unconventional in expression. Like most of the writers of +the seventeenth century, and the court ladies and gentlemen of the +eighteenth century, he is an independent speller. Writing of his work on +the Adirondacks, he says, “If I should ever live to get this wonderful +thing written, I expect it will show one thing, if no more; and that +is, that every thing has an opposite. I expect to show in this that +literature has an opposite, if I do not show any thing els. We could +not enjoy the blessings and happiness of riteousness if we did not +know innicuty was in the world: in fact, there would be no riteousness +without innicuty.” Writing also of his great enjoyment of being in the +woods, especially since he has had the society there of some people he +names, he adds, “And since I have Literature, Siance, and Art all spread +about on the green moss of the mountain woods or the gravell banks of a +cristle stream, it seems like finding roses, honeysuckels, and violets +on a crisp brown cliff in December. You know I don't believe much in the +religion of seramony; but any riteous thing that has life and spirit in +it is food for me.” I must not neglect to mention an essay, continued +in several numbers of his local paper, on “The Growth of the Tree,” in +which he demolishes the theory of Mr. Greeley, whom he calls “one of the +best vegetable philosophers,” about “growth without seed.” He treats +of the office of sap: “All trees have some kind of sap and some kind of +operation of sap flowing in their season,” the dissemination of seeds, +the processes of growth, the power of healing wounds, the proportion of +roots to branches, &c. Speaking of the latter, he says, “I have thought +it would be one of the greatest curiosities on earth to see a thrifty +growing maple or elm, that had grown on a deep soil interval to be two +feet in diameter, to be raised clear into the air with every root and +fibre down to the minutest thread, all entirely cleared of soil, so that +every particle could be seen in its natural position. I think it would +astonish even the wise ones.” From his instinctive sympathy with +nature, he often credits vegetable organism with “instinctive judgment.” + “Observation teaches us that a tree is given powerful instincts, which +would almost appear to amount to judgment in some cases, to provide for +its own wants and necessities.” + +Here our study must cease. When the primitive man comes into literature, +he is no longer primitive. + + + + +VI. CAMPING OUT + +It seems to be agreed that civilization is kept up only by a constant +effort: Nature claims its own speedily when the effort is relaxed. If +you clear a patch of fertile ground in the forest, uproot the stumps, +and plant it, year after year, in potatoes and maize, you say you +have subdued it. But, if you leave it for a season or two, a kind of +barbarism seems to steal out upon it from the circling woods; coarse +grass and brambles cover it; bushes spring up in a wild tangle; the +raspberry and the blackberry flower and fruit; and the humorous bear +feeds upon them. The last state of that ground is worse than the first. + +Perhaps the cleared spot is called Ephesus. There is a splendid city on +the plain; there are temples and theatres on the hills; the commerce +of the world seeks its port; the luxury of the Orient flows through +its marble streets. You are there one day when the sea has receded: the +plain is a pestilent marsh; the temples, the theatres, the lofty gates +have sunken and crumbled, and the wild-brier runs over them; and, as you +grow pensive in the most desolate place in the world, a bandit lounges +out of a tomb, and offers to relieve you of all that which creates +artificial distinctions in society. The higher the civilization has +risen, the more abject is the desolation of barbarism that ensues. The +most melancholy spot in the Adirondacks is not a tamarack-swamp, where +the traveler wades in moss and mire, and the atmosphere is composed of +equal active parts of black-flies, mosquitoes, and midges. It is the +village of the Adirondack Iron-Works, where the streets of gaunt houses +are falling to pieces, tenantless; the factory-wheels have stopped; the +furnaces are in ruins; the iron and wooden machinery is strewn about in +helpless detachment; and heaps of charcoal, ore, and slag proclaim an +arrested industry. Beside this deserted village, even Calamity Pond, +shallow, sedgy, with its ragged shores of stunted firs, and its +melancholy shaft that marks the spot where the proprietor of the +iron-works accidentally shot himself, is cheerful. + +The instinct of barbarism that leads people periodically to throw aside +the habits of civilization, and seek the freedom and discomfort of the +woods, is explicable enough; but it is not so easy to understand why +this passion should be strongest in those who are most refined, and +most trained in intellectual and social fastidiousness. Philistinism and +shoddy do not like the woods, unless it becomes fashionable to do so; +and then, as speedily as possible, they introduce their artificial +luxuries, and reduce the life in the wilderness to the vulgarity of a +well-fed picnic. It is they who have strewn the Adirondacks with paper +collars and tin cans. The real enjoyment of camping and tramping in the +woods lies in a return to primitive conditions of lodging, dress, +and food, in as total an escape as may be from the requirements of +civilization. And it remains to be explained why this is enjoyed most by +those who are most highly civilized. It is wonderful to see how easily +the restraints of society fall off. Of course it is not true that +courtesy depends upon clothes with the best people; but, with others, +behavior hangs almost entirely upon dress. Many good habits are easily +got rid of in the woods. Doubt sometimes seems to be felt whether Sunday +is a legal holiday there. It becomes a question of casuistry with a +clergyman whether he may shoot at a mark on Sunday, if none of his +congregation are present. He intends no harm: he only gratifies a +curiosity to see if he can hit the mark. Where shall he draw the line? +Doubtless he might throw a stone at a chipmunk, or shout at a loon. +Might he fire at a mark with an air-gun that makes no noise? He will not +fish or hunt on Sunday (although he is no more likely to catch anything +that day than on any other); but may he eat trout that the guide has +caught on Sunday, if the guide swears he caught them Saturday night? Is +there such a thing as a vacation in religion? How much of our virtue do +we owe to inherited habits? + +I am not at all sure whether this desire to camp outside of civilization +is creditable to human nature, or otherwise. We hear sometimes that the +Turk has been merely camping for four centuries in Europe. I suspect +that many of us are, after all, really camping temporarily in civilized +conditions; and that going into the wilderness is an escape, longed for, +into our natural and preferred state. Consider what this “camping out” + is, that is confessedly so agreeable to people most delicately reared. I +have no desire to exaggerate its delights. + +The Adirondack wilderness is essentially unbroken. A few bad roads that +penetrate it, a few jolting wagons that traverse them, a few barn-like +boarding-houses on the edge of the forest, where the boarders are +soothed by patent coffee, and stimulated to unnatural gayety by Japan +tea, and experimented on by unique cookery, do little to destroy the +savage fascination of the region. In half an hour, at any point, one can +put himself into solitude and every desirable discomfort. The party that +covets the experience of the camp comes down to primitive conditions of +dress and equipment. There are guides and porters to carry the blankets +for beds, the raw provisions, and the camp equipage; and the motley +party of the temporarily decivilized files into the woods, and begins, +perhaps by a road, perhaps on a trail, its exhilarating and weary march. +The exhilaration arises partly from the casting aside of restraint, +partly from the adventure of exploration; and the weariness, from the +interminable toil of bad walking, a heavy pack, and the grim monotony +of trees and bushes, that shut out all prospect, except an occasional +glimpse of the sky. Mountains are painfully climbed, streams forded, +lonesome lakes paddled over, long and muddy “carries” traversed. Fancy +this party the victim of political exile, banished by the law, and a +more sorrowful march could not be imagined; but the voluntary hardship +becomes pleasure, and it is undeniable that the spirits of the party +rise as the difficulties increase. + +For this straggling and stumbling band the world is young again: it has +come to the beginning of things; it has cut loose from tradition, and +is free to make a home anywhere: the movement has all the promise of a +revolution. All this virginal freshness invites the primitive instincts +of play and disorder. The free range of the forests suggests endless +possibilities of exploration and possession. Perhaps we are treading +where man since the creation never trod before; perhaps the waters of +this bubbling spring, which we deepen by scraping out the decayed leaves +and the black earth, have never been tasted before, except by the wild +denizens of these woods. We cross the trails of lurking animals,--paths +that heighten our sense of seclusion from the world. The hammering of +the infrequent woodpecker, the call of the lonely bird, the drumming +of the solitary partridge,--all these sounds do but emphasize the +lonesomeness of nature. The roar of the mountain brook, dashing over its +bed of pebbles, rising out of the ravine, and spreading, as it were, a +mist of sound through all the forest (continuous beating waves that +have the rhythm of eternity in them), and the fitful movement of the +air-tides through the balsams and firs and the giant pines,--how these +grand symphonies shut out the little exasperations of our vexed life! It +seems easy to begin life over again on the simplest terms. Probably +it is not so much the desire of the congregation to escape from the +preacher, or of the preacher to escape from himself, that drives +sophisticated people into the wilderness, as it is the unconquered +craving for primitive simplicity, the revolt against the everlasting +dress-parade of our civilization. From this monstrous pomposity even the +artificial rusticity of a Petit Trianon is a relief. It was only human +nature that the jaded Frenchman of the regency should run away to the +New World, and live in a forest-hut with an Indian squaw; although he +found little satisfaction in his act of heroism, unless it was talked +about at Versailles. + +When our trampers come, late in the afternoon, to the bank of a lovely +lake where they purpose to enter the primitive life, everything is +waiting for them in virgin expectation. There is a little promontory +jutting into the lake, and sloping down to a sandy beach, on which the +waters idly lapse, and shoals of red-fins and shiners come to greet the +stranger; the forest is untouched by the axe; the tender green sweeps +the water's edge; ranks of slender firs are marshaled by the shore; +clumps of white-birch stems shine in satin purity among the evergreens; +the boles of giant spruces, maples, and oaks, lifting high their crowns +of foliage, stretch away in endless galleries and arcades; through the +shifting leaves the sunshine falls upon the brown earth; overhead are +fragments of blue sky; under the boughs and in chance openings +appear the bluer lake and the outline of the gracious mountains. The +discoverers of this paradise, which they have entered to destroy, note +the babbling of the brook that flows close at hand; they hear the splash +of the leaping fish; they listen to the sweet, metallic song of the +evening thrush, and the chatter of the red squirrel, who angrily +challenges their right to be there. But the moment of sentiment passes. +This party has come here to eat and to sleep, and not to encourage +Nature in her poetic attitudinizing. + +The spot for a shanty is selected. This side shall be its opening, +towards the lake; and in front of it the fire, so that the smoke shall +drift into the hut, and discourage the mosquitoes; yonder shall be +the cook's fire and the path to the spring. The whole colony bestir +themselves in the foundation of a new home,--an enterprise that has all +the fascination, and none of the danger, of a veritable new settlement +in the wilderness. The axes of the guides resound in the echoing spaces; +great trunks fall with a crash; vistas are opened towards the lake and +the mountains. The spot for the shanty is cleared of underbrush; forked +stakes are driven into the ground, cross-pieces are laid on them, and +poles sloping back to the ground. In an incredible space of time there +is the skeleton of a house, which is entirely open in front. The roof +and sides must be covered. For this purpose the trunks of great spruces +are skinned. The woodman rims the bark near the foot of the tree, and +again six feet above, and slashes it perpendicularly; then, with a blunt +stick, he crowds off this thick hide exactly as an ox is skinned. +It needs but a few of these skins to cover the roof; and they make a +perfectly water-tight roof, except when it rains. Meantime busy hands +have gathered boughs of the spruce and the feathery balsam, and shingled +the ground underneath the shanty for a bed. It is an aromatic bed: in +theory it is elastic and consoling. Upon it are spread the blankets. The +sleepers, of all sexes and ages, are to lie there in a row, their feet +to the fire, and their heads under the edge of the sloping roof. Nothing +could be better contrived. The fire is in front: it is not a fire, but +a conflagration--a vast heap of green logs set on fire--of pitch, and +split dead-wood, and crackling balsams, raging and roaring. By the time, +twilight falls, the cook has prepared supper. Everything has been cooked +in a tin pail and a skillet,--potatoes, tea, pork, mutton, slapjacks. +You wonder how everything could have been prepared in so few utensils. +When you eat, the wonder ceases: everything might have been cooked +in one pail. It is a noble meal; and nobly is it disposed of by these +amateur savages, sitting about upon logs and roots of trees. Never were +there such potatoes, never beans that seemed to have more of the bean in +them, never such curly pork, never trout with more Indian-meal on them, +never mutton more distinctly sheepy; and the tea, drunk out of a tin +cup, with a lump of maple-sugar dissolved in it,--it is the sort of tea +that takes hold, lifts the hair, and disposes the drinker to anecdote +and hilariousness. There is no deception about it: it tastes of tannin +and spruce and creosote. Everything, in short, has the flavor of +the wilderness and a free life. It is idyllic. And yet, with all our +sentimentality, there is nothing feeble about the cooking. The slapjacks +are a solid job of work, made to last, and not go to pieces in a +person's stomach like a trivial bun: we might record on them, in +cuneiform characters, our incipient civilization; and future generations +would doubtless turn them up as Acadian bricks. Good, robust victuals +are what the primitive man wants. + +Darkness falls suddenly. Outside the ring of light from our +conflagration the woods are black. There is a tremendous impression of +isolation and lonesomeness in our situation. We are the prisoners of +the night. The woods never seemed so vast and mysterious. The trees are +gigantic. There are noises that we do not understand,--mysterious winds +passing overhead, and rambling in the great galleries, tree-trunks +grinding against each other, undefinable stirs and uneasinesses. The +shapes of those who pass into the dimness are outlined in monstrous +proportions. The spectres, seated about in the glare of the fire, talk +about appearances and presentiments and religion. The guides cheer the +night with bear-fights, and catamount encounters, and frozen-to-death +experiences, and simple tales of great prolixity and no point, and jokes +of primitive lucidity. We hear catamounts, and the stealthy tread of +things in the leaves, and the hooting of owls, and, when the moon rises, +the laughter of the loon. Everything is strange, spectral, fascinating. + +By and by we get our positions in the shanty for the night, and arrange +the row of sleepers. The shanty has become a smoke-house by this time: +waves of smoke roll into it from the fire. It is only by lying down, and +getting the head well under the eaves, that one can breathe. No one can +find her “things”; nobody has a pillow. At length the row is laid out, +with the solemn protestation of intention to sleep. The wind, shifting, +drives away the smoke. + +Good-night is said a hundred times; positions are readjusted, more last +words, new shifting about, final remarks; it is all so comfortable and +romantic; and then silence. Silence continues for a minute. The fire +flashes up; all the row of heads is lifted up simultaneously to watch +it; showers of sparks sail aloft into the blue night; the vast vault +of greenery is a fairy spectacle. How the sparks mount and twinkle and +disappear like tropical fireflies, and all the leaves murmur, and clap +their hands! Some of the sparks do not go out: we see them flaming in +the sky when the flame of the fire has died down. Well, good-night, +goodnight. More folding of the arms to sleep; more grumbling about the +hardness of a hand-bag, or the insufficiency of a pocket-handkerchief, +for a pillow. Good-night. Was that a remark?--something about a root, +a stub in the ground sticking into the back. “You couldn't lie along a +hair?”---“Well, no: here's another stub. It needs but a moment for the +conversation to become general,--about roots under the shoulder, stubs +in the back, a ridge on which it is impossible for the sleeper to +balance, the non-elasticity of boughs, the hardness of the ground, the +heat, the smoke, the chilly air. Subjects of remarks multiply. The whole +camp is awake, and chattering like an aviary. The owl is also awake; but +the guides who are asleep outside make more noise than the owls. Water +is wanted, and is handed about in a dipper. Everybody is yawning; +everybody is now determined to go to sleep in good earnest. A last +good-night. There is an appalling silence. It is interrupted in the most +natural way in the world. Somebody has got the start, and gone to sleep. +He proclaims the fact. He seems to have been brought up on the seashore, +and to know how to make all the deep-toned noises of the restless ocean. +He is also like a war-horse; or, it is suggested, like a saw-horse. How +malignantly he snorts, and breaks off short, and at once begins again in +another key! One head is raised after another. + +“Who is that?” + +“Somebody punch him.” + +“Turn him over.” + +“Reason with him.” + +The sleeper is turned over. The turn was a mistake. He was before, it +appears, on his most agreeable side. The camp rises in indignation. +The sleeper sits up in bewilderment. Before he can go off again, two or +three others have preceded him. They are all alike. You never can +judge what a person is when he is awake. There are here half a dozen +disturbers of the peace who should be put in solitary confinement. At +midnight, when a philosopher crawls out to sit on a log by the fire, +and smoke a pipe, a duet in tenor and mezzo-soprano is going on in the +shanty, with a chorus always coming in at the wrong time. Those who +are not asleep want to know why the smoker doesn't go to bed. He is +requested to get some water, to throw on another log, to see what +time it is, to note whether it looks like rain. A buzz of conversation +arises. She is sure she heard something behind the shanty. He says it is +all nonsense. “Perhaps, however, it might be a mouse.” + +“Mercy! Are there mice?” + +“Plenty.” + +“Then that's what I heard nibbling by my head. I shan't sleep a wink! Do +they bite?” + +“No, they nibble; scarcely ever take a full bite out.” + +“It's horrid!” + +Towards morning it grows chilly; the guides have let the fire go out; +the blankets will slip down. Anxiety begins to be expressed about the +dawn. + +“What time does the sun rise?” + +“Awful early. Did you sleep? + +“Not a wink. And you?” + +“In spots. I'm going to dig up this root as soon as it is light enough.” + +“See that mist on the lake, and the light just coming on the Gothics! +I'd no idea it was so cold: all the first part of the night I was +roasted.” + +“What were they talking about all night?” + +When the party crawls out to the early breakfast, after it has washed +its faces in the lake, it is disorganized, but cheerful. Nobody admits +much sleep; but everybody is refreshed, and declares it delightful. It +is the fresh air all night that invigorates; or maybe it is the tea, +or the slap-jacks. The guides have erected a table of spruce bark, with +benches at the sides; so that breakfast is taken in form. It is served +on tin plates and oak chips. After breakfast begins the day's work. +It may be a mountain-climbing expedition, or rowing and angling in the +lake, or fishing for trout in some stream two or three miles distant. +Nobody can stir far from camp without a guide. Hammocks are swung, +bowers are built novel-reading begins, worsted work appears, cards +are shuffled and dealt. The day passes in absolute freedom from +responsibility to one's self. At night when the expeditions return, the +camp resumes its animation. Adventures are recounted, every statement of +the narrator being disputed and argued. Everybody has become an adept in +woodcraft; but nobody credits his neighbor with like instinct. Society +getting resolved into its elements, confidence is gone. + +Whilst the hilarious party are at supper, a drop or two of rain falls. +The head guide is appealed to. Is it going to rain? He says it does +rain. But will it be a rainy night? The guide goes down to the lake, +looks at the sky, and concludes that, if the wind shifts a p'int more, +there is no telling what sort of weather we shall have. Meantime the +drops patter thicker on the leaves overhead, and the leaves, in turn, +pass the water down to the table; the sky darkens; the wind rises; there +is a kind of shiver in the woods; and we scud away into the shanty, +taking the remains of our supper, and eating it as best we can. The +rain increases. The fire sputters and fumes. All the trees are dripping, +dripping, and the ground is wet. We cannot step outdoors without getting +a drenching. Like sheep, we are penned in the little hut, where no +one can stand erect. The rain swirls into the open front, and wets +the bottom of the blankets. The smoke drives in. We curl up, and enjoy +ourselves. The guides at length conclude that it is going to be damp. +The dismal situation sets us all into good spirits; and it is later than +the night before when we crawl under our blankets, sure this time of +a sound sleep, lulled by the storm and the rain resounding on the bark +roof. How much better off we are than many a shelter-less wretch! We +are as snug as dry herrings. At the moment, however, of dropping off to +sleep, somebody unfortunately notes a drop of water on his face; this +is followed by another drop; in an instant a stream is established. He +moves his head to a dry place. Scarcely has he done so, when he feels +a dampness in his back. Reaching his hand outside, he finds a puddle of +water soaking through his blanket. By this time, somebody inquires if +it is possible that the roof leaks. One man has a stream of water under +him; another says it is coming into his ear. The roof appears to be a +discriminating sieve. Those who are dry see no need of such a fuss. The +man in the corner spreads his umbrella, and the protective measure is +resented by his neighbor. In the darkness there is recrimination. One of +the guides, who is summoned, suggests that the rubber blankets be passed +out, and spread over the roof. The inmates dislike the proposal, saying +that a shower-bath is no worse than a tub-bath. The rain continues to +soak down. The fire is only half alive. The bedding is damp. Some +sit up, if they can find a dry spot to sit on, and smoke. Heartless +observations are made. A few sleep. And the night wears on. The morning +opens cheerless. The sky is still leaking, and so is the shanty. The +guides bring in a half-cooked breakfast. The roof is patched up. +There are reviving signs of breaking away, delusive signs that create +momentary exhilaration. Even if the storm clears, the woods are soaked. +There is no chance of stirring. The world is only ten feet square. + +This life, without responsibility or clean clothes, may continue as long +as the reader desires. There are, those who would like to live in this +free fashion forever, taking rain and sun as heaven pleases; and there +are some souls so constituted that they cannot exist more than three +days without their worldly--baggage. Taking the party altogether, +from one cause or another it is likely to strike camp sooner than was +intended. And the stricken camp is a melancholy sight. The woods have +been despoiled; the stumps are ugly; the bushes are scorched; the +pine-leaf-strewn earth is trodden into mire; the landing looks like a +cattle-ford; the ground is littered with all the unsightly dibris of a +hand-to-hand life; the dismantled shanty is a shabby object; the charred +and blackened logs, where the fire blazed, suggest the extinction of +family life. Man has wrought his usual wrong upon Nature, and he can +save his self-respect only by moving to virgin forests. + +And move to them he will, the next season, if not this. For he who has +once experienced the fascination of the woods-life never escapes its +enticement: in the memory nothing remains but its charm. + + + + +VII. A WILDERNESS ROMANCE + +At the south end of Keene Valley, in the Adirondacks, stands Noon Mark, +a shapely peak thirty-five hundred feet above the sea, which, with the +aid of the sun, tells the Keene people when it is time to eat dinner. +From its summit you look south into a vast wilderness basin, a great +stretch of forest little trodden, and out of whose bosom you can hear +from the heights on a still day the loud murmur of the Boquet. This +basin of unbroken green rises away to the south and southeast into the +rocky heights of Dix's Peak and Nipple Top,--the latter a local name +which neither the mountain nor the fastidious tourist is able to shake +off. Indeed, so long as the mountain keeps its present shape as seen +from the southern lowlands, it cannot get on without this name. + +These two mountains, which belong to the great system of which Marcy +is the giant centre, and are in the neighborhood of five thousand +feet high, on the southern outposts of the great mountains, form the +gate-posts of the pass into the south country. This opening between them +is called Hunter's Pass. It is the most elevated and one of the wildest +of the mountain passes. Its summit is thirty-five hundred feet high. In +former years it is presumed the hunters occasionally followed the game +through; but latterly it is rare to find a guide who has been that way, +and the tin-can and paper-collar tourists have not yet made it a runway. +This seclusion is due not to any inherent difficulty of travel, but to +the fact that it lies a little out of the way. + +We went through it last summer; making our way into the jaws from the +foot of the great slides on Dix, keeping along the ragged spurs of the +mountain through the virgin forest. The pass is narrow, walled in on +each side by precipices of granite, and blocked up with bowlders and +fallen trees, and beset with pitfalls in the roads ingeniously covered +with fair-seeming moss. When the climber occasionally loses sight of a +leg in one of these treacherous holes, and feels a cold sensation in his +foot, he learns that he has dipped into the sources of the Boquet, which +emerges lower down into falls and rapids, and, recruited by creeping +tributaries, goes brawling through the forest basin, and at last comes +out an amiable and boat-bearing stream in the valley of Elizabeth Town. +From the summit another rivulet trickles away to the south, and finds +its way through a frightful tamarack swamp, and through woods scarred by +ruthless lumbering, to Mud Pond, a quiet body of water, with a ghastly +fringe of dead trees, upon which people of grand intentions and weak +vocabulary are trying to fix the name of Elk Lake. The descent of the +pass on that side is precipitous and exciting. The way is in the stream +itself; and a considerable portion of the distance we swung ourselves +down the faces of considerable falls, and tumbled down cascades. The +descent, however, was made easy by the fact that it rained, and +every footstep was yielding and slippery. Why sane people, often +church-members respectably connected, will subject themselves to this +sort of treatment,--be wet to the skin, bruised by the rocks, and flung +about among the bushes and dead wood until the most necessary part of +their apparel hangs in shreds,--is one of the delightful mysteries of +these woods. I suspect that every man is at heart a roving animal, and +likes, at intervals, to revert to the condition of the bear and the +catamount. + +There is no trail through Hunter's Pass, which, as I have intimated, is +the least frequented portion of this wilderness. Yet we were surprised +to find a well-beaten path a considerable portion of the way and +wherever a path is possible. It was not a mere deer's runway: these are +found everywhere in the mountains. It is trodden by other and larger +animals, and is, no doubt, the highway of beasts. It bears marks of +having been so for a long period, and probably a period long ago. Large +animals are not common in these woods now, and you seldom meet anything +fiercer than the timid deer and the gentle bear. But in days gone by, +Hunter's Pass was the highway of the whole caravan of animals who were +continually going backward; and forwards, in the aimless, roaming way +that beasts have, between Mud Pond and the Boquet Basin. I think I can +see now the procession of them between the heights of Dix and Nipple +Top; the elk and the moose shambling along, cropping the twigs; the +heavy bear lounging by with his exploring nose; the frightened deer +trembling at every twig that snapped beneath his little hoofs, intent on +the lily-pads of the pond; the raccoon and the hedgehog, sidling along; +and the velvet-footed panther, insouciant and conscienceless, scenting +the path with a curious glow in his eye, or crouching in an overhanging +tree ready to drop into the procession at the right moment. Night and +day, year after year, I see them going by, watched by the red fox +and the comfortably clad sable, and grinned at by the black cat,--the +innocent, the vicious, the timid and the savage, the shy and the bold, +the chattering slanderer and the screaming prowler, the industrious and +the peaceful, the tree-top critic and the crawling biter,--just as it +is elsewhere. It makes me blush for my species when I think of it. This +charming society is nearly extinct now: of the larger animals there only +remain the bear, who minds his own business more thoroughly than any +person I know, and the deer, who would like to be friendly with men, but +whose winning face and gentle ways are no protection from the savageness +of man, and who is treated with the same unpitying destruction as the +snarling catamount. I have read in history that the amiable natives of +Hispaniola fared no better at the hands of the brutal Spaniards than +the fierce and warlike Caribs. As society is at present constituted in +Christian countries, I would rather for my own security be a cougar than +a fawn. + +There is not much of romantic interest in the Adirondacks. Out of the +books of daring travelers, nothing. I do not know that the Keene Valley +has any history. The mountains always stood here, and the Au Sable, +flowing now in shallows and now in rippling reaches over the sands +and pebbles, has for ages filled the air with continuous and soothing +sounds. Before the Vermonters broke into it some three-quarters of a +century ago, and made meadows of its bottoms and sugar-camps of its +fringing woods, I suppose the red Indian lived here in his usual +discomfort, and was as restless as his successors, the summer boarders. +But the streams were full of trout then, and the moose and the elk left +their broad tracks on the sands of the river. But of the Indian there is +no trace. There is a mound in the valley, much like a Tel in the +country of Bashan beyond the Jordan, that may have been built by some +pre-historic race, and may contain treasure and the seated figure of +a preserved chieftain on his slow way to Paradise. What the gentle +and accomplished race of the Mound-Builders should want in this savage +region where the frost kills the early potatoes and stunts the scanty +oats, I do not know. I have seen no trace of them, except this Tel, +and one other slight relic, which came to light last summer, and is not +enough to found the history of a race upon. + +Some workingmen, getting stone from the hillside on one of the little +plateaus, for a house-cellar, discovered, partly embedded, a piece of +pottery unique in this region. With the unerring instinct of workmen in +regard to antiquities, they thrust a crowbar through it, and broke the +bowl into several pieces. The joint fragments, however, give us the +form of the dish. It is a bowl about nine inches high and eight inches +across, made of red clay, baked but not glazed. The bottom is round, +the top flares into four comers, and the rim is rudely but rather +artistically ornamented with criss-cross scratches made when the clay +was soft. The vessel is made of clay not found about here, and it is +one that the Indians formerly living here could not form. Was it brought +here by roving Indians who may have made an expedition to the Ohio; was +it passed from tribe to tribe; or did it belong to a race that occupied +the country before the Indian, and who have left traces of their +civilized skill in pottery scattered all over the continent? + +If I could establish the fact that this jar was made by a prehistoric +race, we should then have four generations in this lovely valley:-the +amiable Pre-Historic people (whose gentle descendants were probably +killed by the Spaniards in the West Indies); the Red Indians; the Keene +Flaters (from Vermont); and the Summer Boarders, to say nothing of the +various races of animals who have been unable to live here since the +advent of the Summer Boarders, the valley being not productive enough to +sustain both. This last incursion has been more destructive to the noble +serenity of the forest than all the preceding. + +But we are wandering from Hunter's Pass. The western walls of it are +formed by the precipices of Nipple Top, not so striking nor so bare as +the great slides of Dix which glisten in the sun like silver, but rough +and repelling, and consequently alluring. I have a great desire to scale +them. I have always had an unreasonable wish to explore the rough summit +of this crabbed hill, which is too broken and jagged for pleasure +and not high enough for glory. This desire was stimulated by a legend +related by our guide that night in the Mud Pond cabin. The guide had +never been through the pass before; although he was familiar with the +region, and had ascended Nipple Top in the winter in pursuit of the +sable. The story he told doesn't amount to much, none of the guides' +stories do, faithfully reported, and I should not have believed it if I +had not had a good deal of leisure on my hands at the time, and been of +a willing mind, and I may say in rather of a starved condition as to any +romance in this region. + +The guide said then--and he mentioned it casually, in reply to our +inquiries about ascending the mountain--that there was a cave high up +among the precipices on the southeast side of Nipple Top. He scarcely +volunteered the information, and with seeming reluctance gave us any +particulars about it. I always admire this art by which the accomplished +story-teller lets his listener drag the reluctant tale of the marvelous +from him, and makes you in a manner responsible for its improbability. +If this is well managed, the listener is always eager to believe a great +deal more than the romancer seems willing to tell, and always resents +the assumed reservations and doubts of the latter. + +There were strange reports about this cave when the old guide was a +boy, and even then its very existence had become legendary. Nobody knew +exactly where it was, but there was no doubt that it had been inhabited. +Hunters in the forests south of Dix had seen a light late at night +twinkling through the trees high up the mountain, and now and then a +ruddy glare as from the flaring-up of a furnace. Settlers were few in +the wilderness then, and all the inhabitants were well known. If the +cave was inhabited, it must be by strangers, and by men who had some +secret purpose in seeking this seclusion and eluding observation. If +suspicious characters were seen about Port Henry, or if any such landed +from the steamers on the shore of Lake Champlain, it was impossible to +identify them with these invaders who were never seen. Their not +being seen did not, however, prevent the growth of the belief in their +existence. Little indications and rumors, each trivial in itself, became +a mass of testimony that could not be disposed of because of its very +indefiniteness, but which appealed strongly to man's noblest faculty, +his imagination, or credulity. + +The cave existed; and it was inhabited by men who came and went on +mysterious errands, and transacted their business by night. What this +band of adventurers or desperadoes lived on, how they conveyed their +food through the trackless woods to their high eyrie, and what could +induce men to seek such a retreat, were questions discussed, but never +settled. They might be banditti; but there was nothing to plunder in +these savage wilds, and, in fact, robberies and raids either in the +settlements of the hills or the distant lake shore were unknown. In +another age, these might have been hermits, holy men who had retired +from the world to feed the vanity of their godliness in a spot where +they were subject neither to interruption nor comparison; they would +have had a shrine in the cave, and an image of the Blessed Virgin, with +a lamp always burning before it and sending out its mellow light over +the savage waste. A more probable notion was that they were romantic +Frenchmen who had grow weary of vice and refinement together,--possibly +princes, expectants of the throne, Bourbon remainders, named Williams or +otherwise, unhatched eggs, so to speak, of kings, who had withdrawn out +of observation to wait for the next turn-over in Paris. Frenchmen do +such things. If they were not Frenchmen, they might be honest-thieves or +criminals, escaped from justice or from the friendly state-prison of New +York. This last supposition was, however, more violent than the others, +or seems so to us in this day of grace. For what well-brought-up New +York criminal would be so insane as to run away from his political +friends the keepers, from the easily had companionship of his pals +outside, and from the society of his criminal lawyer, and, in short, to +put himself into the depths of a wilderness out of which escape, when +escape was desired, is a good deal more difficult than it is out of the +swarming jails of the Empire State? Besides, how foolish for a man, if +he were a really hardened and professional criminal, having established +connections and a regular business, to run away from the governor's +pardon, which might have difficulty in finding him in the craggy bosom +of Nipple Top! + +This gang of men--there is some doubt whether they were accompanied +by women--gave little evidence in their appearance of being escaped +criminals or expectant kings. Their movements were mysterious but not +necessarily violent. If their occupation could have been discovered, +that would have furnished a clew to their true character. But about this +the strangers were as close as mice. If anything could betray them, it +was the steady light from the cavern, and its occasional ruddy flashing. +This gave rise to the opinion, which was strengthened by a good many +indications equally conclusive, that the cave was the resort of a +gang of coiners and counterfeiters. Here they had their furnace, +smelting-pots, and dies; here they manufactured those spurious quarters +and halves that their confidants, who were pardoned, were circulating, +and which a few honest men were “nailing to the counter.” + +This prosaic explanation of a romantic situation satisfies all the +requirements of the known facts, but the lively imagination at once +rejects it as unworthy of the subject. I think the guide put it forward +in order to have it rejected. The fact is,--at least, it has never been +disproved,--these strangers whose movements were veiled belonged to that +dark and mysterious race whose presence anywhere on this continent is a +nest-egg of romance or of terror. They were Spaniards! You need not +say buccaneers, you need not say gold-hunters, you need not say swarthy +adventurers even: it is enough to say Spaniards! There is no tale of +mystery and fanaticism and daring I would not believe if a Spaniard is +the hero of it, and it is not necessary either that he should have the +high-sounding name of Bodadilla or Ojeda. + +Nobody, I suppose, would doubt this story if the moose, quaffing deep +draughts of red wine from silver tankards, and then throwing themselves +back upon divans, and lazily puffing the fragrant Havana. After a day of +toil, what more natural, and what more probable for a Spaniard? + +Does the reader think these inferences not warranted by the facts? He +does not know the facts. It is true that our guide had never himself +personally visited the cave, but he has always intended to hunt it up. +His information in regard to it comes from his father, who was a mighty +hunter and trapper. In one of his expeditions over Nipple Top he chanced +upon the cave. The mouth was half concealed by undergrowth. He entered, +not without some apprehension engendered by the legends which make it +famous. I think he showed some boldness in venturing into such a place +alone. I confess that, before I went in, I should want to fire a Gatling +gun into the mouth for a little while, in order to rout out the bears +which usually dwell there. He went in, however. The entrance was low; +but the cave was spacious, not large, but big enough, with a level floor +and a vaulted ceiling. It had long been deserted, but that it was once +the residence of highly civilized beings there could be no doubt. The +dead brands in the centre were the remains of a fire that could not +have been kindled by wild beasts, and the bones scattered about had +been scientifically dissected and handled. There were also remnants of +furniture and pieces of garments scattered about. At the farther end, in +a fissure of the rock, were stones regularly built up, the remains of a +larger fire,--and what the hunter did not doubt was the smelting furnace +of the Spaniards. He poked about in the ashes, but found no silver. That +had all been carried away. + +But what most provoked his wonder in this rude cave was a chair I This +was not such a seat as a woodman might knock up with an axe, with rough +body and a seat of woven splits, but a manufactured chair of commerce, +and a chair, too, of an unusual pattern and some elegance. This chair +itself was a mute witness of luxury and mystery. The chair itself might +have been accounted for, though I don't know how; but upon the back of +the chair hung, as if the owner had carelessly flung it there before +going out an hour before, a man's waistcoat. This waistcoat seemed to +him of foreign make and peculiar style, but what endeared it to him was +its row of metal buttons. These buttons were of silver! I forget now +whether he did not say they were of silver coin, and that the coin was +Spanish. But I am not certain about this latter fact, and I wish to cast +no air of improbability over my narrative. This rich vestment the hunter +carried away with him. This was all the plunder his expedition afforded. +Yes: there was one other article, and, to my mind, more significant than +the vest of the hidalgo. This was a short and stout crowbar of iron; not +one of the long crowbars that farmers use to pry up stones, but a short +handy one, such as you would use in digging silver-ore out of the cracks +of rocks. + +This was the guide's simple story. I asked him what became of the vest +and the buttons, and the bar of iron. The old man wore the vest until he +wore it out; and then he handed it over to the boys, and they wore it +in turn till they wore it out. The buttons were cut off, and kept as +curiosities. They were about the cabin, and the children had them to +play with. The guide distinctly remembers playing with them; one of them +he kept for a long time, and he didn't know but he could find it now, +but he guessed it had disappeared. I regretted that he had not treasured +this slender verification of an interesting romance, but he said in +those days he never paid much attention to such things. Lately he has +turned the subject over, and is sorry that his father wore out the vest +and did not bring away the chair. It is his steady purpose to find the +cave some time when he has leisure, and capture the chair, if it has not +tumbled to pieces. But about the crowbar? Oh I that is all right. The +guide has the bar at his house in Keene Valley, and has always used it. + +I am happy to be able to confirm this story by saying that next +day I saw the crowbar, and had it in my hand. It is short and thick, and +the most interesting kind of crowbar. This evidence is enough for me. I +intend in the course of this vacation to search for the cave; and, if +I find it, my readers shall know the truth about it, if it destroys the +only bit of romance connected with these mountains. + + + + +VIII. WHAT SOME PEOPLE CALL PLEASURE + +My readers were promised an account of Spaniard's Cave on Nipple-Top +Mountain in the Adirondacks, if such a cave exists, and could be found. +There is none but negative evidence that this is a mere cave of the +imagination, the void fancy of a vacant hour; but it is the duty of the +historian to present the negative testimony of a fruitless expedition in +search of it, made last summer. I beg leave to offer this in the simple +language befitting all sincere exploits of a geographical character. + +The summit of Nipple-Top Mountain has been trodden by few white men of +good character: it is in the heart of a hirsute wilderness; it is itself +a rough and unsocial pile of granite nearly five thousand feet high, +bristling with a stunted and unpleasant growth of firs and balsams, and +there is no earthly reason why a person should go there. Therefore we +went. In the party of three there was, of course, a chaplain. The guide +was Old Mountain Phelps, who had made the ascent once before, but not +from the northwest side, the direction from which we approached it. The +enthusiasm of this philosopher has grown with his years, and outlived +his endurance: we carried our own knapsacks and supplies, therefore, and +drew upon him for nothing but moral reflections and a general knowledge +of the wilderness. Our first day's route was through the Gill-brook +woods and up one of its branches to the head of Caribou Pass, which +separates Nipple Top from Colvin. + +It was about the first of September; no rain had fallen for several +weeks, and this heart of the forest was as dry as tinder; a lighted +match dropped anywhere would start a conflagration. This dryness has its +advantages: the walking is improved; the long heat has expressed all the +spicy odors of the cedars and balsams, and the woods are filled with a +soothing fragrance; the waters of the streams, though scant and clear, +are cold as ice; the common forest chill is gone from the air. The +afternoon was bright; there was a feeling of exultation and adventure +in stepping off into the open but pathless forest; the great stems of +deciduous trees were mottled with patches of sunlight, which brought +out upon the variegated barks and mosses of the old trunks a thousand +shifting hues. There is nothing like a primeval wood for color on a +sunny day. The shades of green and brown are infinite; the dull red of +the hemlock bark glows in the sun, the russet of the changing moose-bush +becomes brilliant; there are silvery openings here and there; and +everywhere the columns rise up to the canopy of tender green which +supports the intense blue sky and holds up a part of it from falling +through in fragments to the floor of the forest. Decorators can learn +here how Nature dares to put blue and green in juxtaposition: she has +evidently the secret of harmonizing all the colors. + +The way, as we ascended, was not all through open woods; dense masses +of firs were encountered, jagged spurs were to be crossed, and the going +became at length so slow and toilsome that we took to the rocky bed of +a stream, where bowlders and flumes and cascades offered us sufficient +variety. The deeper we penetrated, the greater the sense of savageness +and solitude; in the silence of these hidden places one seems to +approach the beginning of things. We emerged from the defile into an +open basin, formed by the curved side of the mountain, and stood silent +before a waterfall coming down out of the sky in the centre of the +curve. I do not know anything exactly like this fall, which some +poetical explorer has named the Fairy-Ladder Falls. It appears to have +a height of something like a hundred and fifty feet, and the water +falls obliquely across the face of the cliff from left to right in short +steps, which in the moonlight might seem like a veritable ladder for +fairies. Our impression of its height was confirmed by climbing the very +steep slope at its side some three or four hundred feet. At the top we +found the stream flowing over a broad bed of rock, like a street in the +wilderness, slanting up still towards the sky, and bordered by low firs +and balsams, and bowlders completely covered with moss. It was above the +world and open to the sky. + +On account of the tindery condition of the woods we made our fire on the +natural pavement, and selected a smooth place for our bed near by on the +flat rock, with a pool of limpid water at the foot. This granite couch +we covered with the dry and springy moss, which we stripped off in heavy +fleeces a foot thick from the bowlders. First, however, we fed upon the +fruit that was offered us. Over these hills of moss ran an exquisite +vine with a tiny, ovate, green leaf, bearing small, delicate berries, +oblong and white as wax, having a faint flavor of wintergreen and the +slightest acid taste, the very essence of the wilderness; fairy food, no +doubt, and too refined for palates accustomed to coarser viands. There +must exist somewhere sinless women who could eat these berries without +being reminded of the lost purity and delicacy of the primeval senses. +Every year I doubt not this stainless berry ripens here, and is +unplucked by any knight of the Holy Grail who is worthy to eat it, +and keeps alive, in the prodigality of nature, the tradition of the +unperverted conditions of taste before the fall. We ate these berries, I +am bound to say, with a sense of guilty enjoyment, as if they had been +a sort of shew-bread of the wilderness, though I cannot answer for +the chaplain, who is by virtue of his office a little nearer to these +mysteries of nature than I. This plant belongs to the heath family, and +is first cousin to the blueberry and cranberry. It is commonly called +the creeping snowberry, but I like better its official title of +chiogenes,--the snow-born. + +Our mossy resting-place was named the Bridal Chamber Camp, in the +enthusiasm of the hour, after darkness fell upon the woods and the stars +came out. We were two thousand five hundred feet above the common world. +We lay, as it were, on a shelf in the sky, with a basin of illimitable +forests below us and dim mountain-passes-in the far horizon. + +And as we lay there courting sleep which the blinking stars refused to +shower down, our philosopher discoursed to us of the principle of fire, +which he holds, with the ancients, to be an independent element that +comes and goes in a mysterious manner, as we see flame spring up +and vanish, and is in some way vital and indestructible, and has a +mysterious relation to the source of all things. “That flame,” he says, +“you have put out, but where has it gone?” We could not say, nor whether +it is anything like the spirit of a man which is here for a little hour, +and then vanishes away. Our own philosophy of the correlation of forces +found no sort of favor at that elevation, and we went to sleep leaving +the principle of fire in the apostolic category of “any other creature.” + +At daylight we were astir; and, having pressed the principle of fire +into our service to make a pot of tea, we carefully extinguished it or +sent it into another place, and addressed ourselves to the climb of some +thing over two thousand feet. The arduous labor of scaling an Alpine +peak has a compensating glory; but the dead lift of our bodies up Nipple +Top had no stimulus of this sort. It is simply hard work, for which the +strained muscles only get the approbation of the individual conscience +that drives them to the task. The pleasure of such an ascent is +difficult to explain on the spot, and I suspect consists not so much in +positive enjoyment as in the delight the mind experiences in tyrannizing +over the body. I do not object to the elevation of this mountain, nor to +the uncommonly steep grade by which it attains it, but only to the other +obstacles thrown in the way of the climber. All the slopes of Nipple +Top are hirsute and jagged to the last degree. Granite ledges interpose; +granite bowlders seem to have been dumped over the sides with no more +attempt at arrangement than in a rip-rap wall; the slashes and windfalls +of a century present here and there an almost impenetrable chevalier des +arbres; and the steep sides bristle with a mass of thick balsams, with +dead, protruding spikes, as unyielding as iron stakes. The mountain +has had its own way forever, and is as untamed as a wolf; or rather +the elements, the frightful tempests, the frosts, the heavy snows, the +coaxing sun, and the avalanches have had their way with it until its +surface is in hopeless confusion. We made our way very slowly; and it +was ten o'clock before we reached what appeared to be the summit, a +ridge deeply covered with moss, low balsams, and blueberry-bushes. + +I say, appeared to be; for we stood in thick fog or in the heart of +clouds which limited our dim view to a radius of twenty feet. It was a +warm and cheerful fog, stirred by little wind, but moving, shifting, and +boiling as by its own volatile nature, rolling up black from below and +dancing in silvery splendor overhead As a fog it could not have been +improved; as a medium for viewing the landscape it was a failure and we +lay down upon the Sybarite couch of moss, as in a Russian bath, to await +revelations. + +We waited two hours without change, except an occasional hopeful +lightness in the fog above, and at last the appearance for a moment +of the spectral sun. Only for an instant was this luminous promise +vouchsafed. But we watched in intense excitement. There it was again; +and this time the fog was so thin overhead that we caught sight of a +patch of blue sky a yard square, across which the curtain was instantly +drawn. A little wind was stirring, and the fog boiled up from the valley +caldrons thicker than ever. But the spell was broken. In a moment more +Old Phelps was shouting, “The sun!” and before we could gain our feet +there was a patch of sky overhead as big as a farm. “See! quick!” The +old man was dancing like a lunatic. There was a rift in the vapor at +our feet, down, down, three thousand feet into the forest abyss, and lo! +lifting out of it yonder the tawny side of Dix,--the vision of a second, +snatched away in the rolling fog. The play had just begun. Before +we could turn, there was the gorge of Caribou Pass, savage and dark, +visible to the bottom. The opening shut as suddenly; and then, looking +over the clouds, miles away we saw the peaceful farms of the Au Sable +Valley, and in a moment more the plateau of North Elba and the sentinel +mountains about the grave of John Brown. These glimpses were as fleeting +as thought, and instantly we were again isolated in the sea of mist. The +expectation of these sudden strokes of sublimity kept us exultingly +on the alert; and yet it was a blow of surprise when the curtain was +swiftly withdrawn on the west, and the long ridge of Colvin, seemingly +within a stone's throw, heaved up like an island out of the ocean, +and was the next moment ingulfed. We waited longer for Dix to show its +shapely peak and its glistening sides of rock gashed by avalanches. The +fantastic clouds, torn and streaming, hurried up from the south in haste +as if to a witch's rendezvous, hiding and disclosing the great summit +in their flight. The mist boiled up from the valley, whirled over the +summit where we stood, and plunged again into the depths. Objects were +forming and disappearing, shifting and dancing, now in sun and now gone +in fog, and in the elemental whirl we felt that we were “assisting” in +an original process of creation. The sun strove, and his very striving +called up new vapors; the wind rent away the clouds, and brought new +masses to surge about us; and the spectacle to right and left, above +and below, changed with incredible swiftness. Such glory of abyss and +summit, of color and form and transformation, is seldom granted to +mortal eyes. For an hour we watched it until our vast mountain was +revealed in all its bulk, its long spurs, its abysses and its savagery, +and the great basins of wilderness with their shining lakes, and the +giant peaks of the region, were one by one disclosed, and hidden and +again tranquil in the sunshine. + +Where was the cave? There was ample surface in which to look for it. If +we could have flitted about, like the hawks that came circling round, +over the steep slopes, the long spurs, the jagged precipices, I have no +doubt we should have found it. But moving about on this mountain is not +a holiday pastime; and we were chiefly anxious to discover a practicable +mode of descent into the great wilderness basin on the south, which we +must traverse that afternoon before reaching the hospitable shanty +on Mud Pond. It was enough for us to have discovered the general +whereabouts of the Spanish Cave, and we left the fixing of its exact +position to future explorers. + +The spur we chose for our escape looked smooth in the distance; but we +found it bristling with obstructions, dead balsams set thickly together, +slashes of fallen timber, and every manner of woody chaos; and when +at length we swung and tumbled off the ledge to the general slope, we +exchanged only for more disagreeable going. The slope for a couple of +thousand feet was steep enough; but it was formed of granite rocks all +moss-covered, so that the footing could not be determined, and at short +intervals we nearly went out of sight in holes under the treacherous +carpeting. Add to this that stems of great trees were laid +longitudinally and transversely and criss-cross over and among the +rocks, and the reader can see that a good deal of work needs to be done +to make this a practicable highway for anything but a squirrel.... + +We had had no water since our daylight breakfast: our lunch on the +mountain had been moistened only by the fog. Our thirst began to be that +of Tantalus, because we could hear the water running deep down among +the rocks, but we could not come at it. The imagination drank the +living stream, and we realized anew what delusive food the imagination +furnishes in an actual strait. A good deal of the crime of this world, +I am convinced, is the direct result of the unlicensed play of the +imagination in adverse circumstances. This reflection had nothing to do +with our actual situation; for we added to our imagination patience, and +to our patience long-suffering, and probably all the Christian virtues +would have been developed in us if the descent had been long enough. +Before we reached the bottom of Caribou Pass, the water burst out from +the rocks in a clear stream that was as cold as ice. Shortly after, we +struck the roaring brook that issues from the Pass to the south. It is +a stream full of character, not navigable even for trout in the upper +part, but a succession of falls, cascades, flumes, and pools that would +delight an artist. It is not an easy bed for anything except water to +descend; and before we reached the level reaches, where the stream flows +with a murmurous noise through open woods, one of our party began to +show signs of exhaustion. + +This was Old Phelps, whose appetite had failed the day before,--his +imagination being in better working order than his stomach: he had eaten +little that day, and his legs became so groggy that he was obliged to +rest at short intervals. Here was a situation! The afternoon was wearing +away. We had six or seven miles of unknown wilderness to traverse, a +portion of it swampy, in which a progress of more than a mile an hour is +difficult, and the condition of the guide compelled even a slower +march. What should we do in that lonesome solitude if the guide became +disabled? We couldn't carry him out; could we find our own way out +to get assistance? The guide himself had never been there before; and +although he knew the general direction of our point of egress, and was +entirely adequate to extricate himself from any position in the woods, +his knowledge was of that occult sort possessed by woodsmen which it +is impossible to communicate. Our object was to strike a trail that +led from the Au Sable Pond, the other side of the mountain-range, to an +inlet on Mud Pond. We knew that if we traveled southwestward far enough +we must strike that trail, but how far? No one could tell. If we reached +that trail, and found a boat at the inlet, there would be only a row of +a couple of miles to the house at the foot of the lake. If no boat was +there, then we must circle the lake three or four miles farther through +a cedar-swamp, with no trail in particular. The prospect was not +pleasing. We were short of supplies, for we had not expected to pass +that night in the woods. The pleasure of the excursion began to develop +itself. + +We stumbled on in the general direction marked out, through a forest +that began to seem endless as hour after hour passed, compelled as we +were to make long detours over the ridges of the foothills to avoid the +swamp, which sent out from the border of the lake long tongues into +the firm ground. The guide became more ill at every step, and needed +frequent halts and long rests. Food he could not eat; and tea, water, +and even brandy he rejected. Again and again the old philosopher, +enfeebled by excessive exertion and illness, would collapse in a heap +on the ground, an almost comical picture of despair, while we stood and +waited the waning of the day, and peered forward in vain for any sign of +an open country. At every brook we encountered, we suggested a halt for +the night, while it was still light enough to select a camping-place, +but the plucky old man wouldn't hear of it: the trail might be only a +quarter of a mile ahead, and we crawled on again at a snail's pace. His +honor as a guide seemed to be at stake; and, besides, he confessed to +a notion that his end was near, and he didn't want to die like a dog +in the woods. And yet, if this was his last journey, it seemed not an +inappropriate ending for the old woodsman to lie down and give up the +ghost in the midst of the untamed forest and the solemn silences he felt +most at home in. There is a popular theory, held by civilians, that a +soldier likes to die in battle. I suppose it is as true that a woodsman +would like to “pass in his chips,”--the figure seems to be inevitable, +struck down by illness and exposure, in the forest solitude, with heaven +in sight and a tree-root for his pillow. + +The guide seemed really to fear that, if we did not get out of the +woods that night, he would never go out; and, yielding to his dogged +resolution, we kept on in search of the trail, although the gathering +of dusk over the ground warned us that we might easily cross the trail +without recognizing it. We were traveling by the light in the upper sky, +and by the forms of the tree-stems, which every moment grew dimmer. At +last the end came. We had just felt our way over what seemed to be a +little run of water, when the old man sunk down, remarking, “I might as +well die here as anywhere,” and was silent. + +Suddenly night fell like a blanket on us. We could neither see the guide +nor each other. We became at once conscious that miles of night on all +sides shut us in. The sky was clouded over: there wasn't a gleam of +light to show us where to step. Our first thought was to build a fire, +which would drive back the thick darkness into the woods, and boil +some water for our tea. But it was too dark to use the axe. We scraped +together leaves and twigs to make a blaze, and, as this failed, such +dead sticks as we could find by groping about. The fire was only a +temporary affair, but it sufficed to boil a can of water. The water we +obtained by feeling about the stones of the little run for an opening +big enough to dip our cup in. The supper to be prepared was fortunately +simple. It consisted of a decoction of tea and other leaves which had +got into the pail, and a part of a loaf of bread. A loaf of bread which +has been carried in a knapsack for a couple of days, bruised and handled +and hacked at with a hunting-knife, becomes an uninteresting object. +But we ate of it with thankfulness, washed it down with hot fluid, and +bitterly thought of the morrow. Would our old friend survive the night? +Would he be in any condition to travel in the morning? How were we to +get out with him or without him? + +The old man lay silent in the bushes out of sight, and desired only to +be let alone. We tried to tempt him with the offer of a piece of toast: +it was no temptation. Tea we thought would revive him: he refused it. A +drink of brandy would certainly quicken his life: he couldn't touch it. +We were at the end of our resources. He seemed to think that if he +were at home, and could get a bit of fried bacon, or a piece of pie, he +should be all right. We knew no more how to doctor him than if he had +been a sick bear. He withdrew within himself, rolled himself up, so +to speak, in his primitive habits, and waited for the healing power of +nature. Before our feeble fire disappeared, we smoothed a level place +near it for Phelps to lie on, and got him over to it. But it didn't +suit: it was too open. In fact, at the moment some drops of rain fell. +Rain was quite outside of our program for the night. But the guide +had an instinct about it; and, while we were groping about some yards +distant for a place where we could lie down, he crawled away into the +darkness, and curled himself up amid the roots of a gigantic pine, very +much as a bear would do, I suppose, with his back against the trunk, and +there passed the night comparatively dry and comfortable; but of this we +knew nothing till morning, and had to trust to the assurance of a voice +out of the darkness that he was all right. + +Our own bed where we spread our blankets was excellent in one +respect,--there was no danger of tumbling out of it. At first the rain +pattered gently on the leaves overhead, and we congratulated ourselves +on the snugness of our situation. There was something cheerful about +this free life. We contrasted our condition with that of tired invalids +who were tossing on downy beds, and wooing sleep in vain. Nothing was so +wholesome and invigorating as this bivouac in the forest. But, somehow, +sleep did not come. The rain had ceased to patter, and began to fall +with a steady determination, a sort of soak, soak, all about us. In +fact, it roared on the rubber blanket, and beat in our faces. The wind +began to stir a little, and there was a moaning on high. Not contented +with dripping, the rain was driven into our faces. Another suspicious +circumstance was noticed. Little rills of water got established along +the sides under the blankets, cold, undeniable streams, that interfered +with drowsiness. Pools of water settled on the bed; and the chaplain had +a habit of moving suddenly, and letting a quart or two inside, and down +my neck. It began to be evident that we and our bed were probably the +wettest objects in the woods. The rubber was an excellent catch-all. +There was no trouble about ventilation, but we found that we had +established our quarters without any provision for drainage. There was +not exactly a wild tempest abroad; but there was a degree of liveliness +in the thrashing limbs and the creaking of the tree-branches which +rubbed against each other, and the pouring rain increased in volume and +power of penetration. Sleep was quite out of the question, with so much +to distract our attention. In fine, our misery became so perfect that +we both broke out into loud and sarcastic laughter over the absurdity of +our situation. We had subjected ourselves to all this forlornness simply +for pleasure. Whether Old Phelps was still in existence, we couldn't +tell: we could get no response from him. With daylight, if he continued +ill and could not move, our situation would be little improved. Our +supplies were gone, we lay in a pond, a deluge of water was pouring down +on us. This was summer recreation. The whole thing was so excessively +absurd that we laughed again, louder than ever. We had plenty of this +sort of amusement. Suddenly through the night we heard a sort of reply +that started us bolt upright. This was a prolonged squawk. It was like +the voice of no beast or bird with which we were familiar. At first it +was distant; but it rapidly approached, tearing through the night and +apparently through the tree-tops, like the harsh cry of a web-footed +bird with a snarl in it; in fact, as I said, a squawk. It came close +to us, and then turned, and as rapidly as it came fled away through the +forest, and we lost the unearthly noise far up the mountain-slope. + +“What was that, Phelps?” we cried out. But no response came; and we +wondered if his spirit had been rent away, or if some evil genius had +sought it, and then, baffled by his serene and philosophic spirit, had +shot off into the void in rage and disappointment. + +The night had no other adventure. The moon at length coming up behind +the clouds lent a spectral aspect to the forest, and deceived us for a +time into the notion that day was at hand; but the rain never ceased, +and we lay wishful and waiting, with no item of solid misery wanting +that we could conceive. + +Day was slow a-coming, and didn't amount to much when it came, so +heavy were the clouds; but the rain slackened. We crawled out of our +water-cure “pack,” and sought the guide. To our infinite relief he +announced himself not only alive, but in a going condition. I looked at +my watch. It had stopped at five o'clock. I poured the water out of it, +and shook it; but, not being constructed on the hydraulic principle, it +refused to go. Some hours later we encountered a huntsman, from whom I +procured some gun-grease; with this I filled the watch, and heated it in +by the fire. This is a most effectual way of treating a delicate Genevan +timepiece. + +The light disclosed fully the suspected fact that our bed had been made +in a slight depression: the under rubber blanket spread in this had +prevented the rain from soaking into the ground, and we had been lying +in what was in fact a well-contrived bathtub. While Old Phelps was +pulling himself together, and we were wringing some gallons of water out +of our blankets, we questioned the old man about the “squawk,” and what +bird was possessed of such a voice. It was not a bird at all, he said, +but a cat, the black-cat of the woods, larger than the domestic animal, +and an ugly customer, who is fond of fish, and carries a pelt that is +worth two or three dollars in the market. Occasionally he blunders into +a sable-trap; and he is altogether hateful in his ways, and has the most +uncultivated voice that is heard in the woods. We shall remember him as +one of the least pleasant phantoms of that cheerful night when we lay +in the storm, fearing any moment the advent to one of us of the grimmest +messenger. + +We rolled up and shouldered our wet belongings, and, before the shades +had yet lifted from the saturated bushes, pursued our march. It was a +relief to be again in motion, although our progress was slow, and it +was a question every rod whether the guide could go on. We had the day +before us; but if we did not find a boat at the inlet a day might not +suffice, in the weak condition of the guide, to extricate us from our +ridiculous position. There was nothing heroic in it; we had no object: +it was merely, as it must appear by this time, a pleasure excursion, +and we might be lost or perish in it without reward and with little +sympathy. We had something like a hour and a half of stumbling through +the swamp when suddenly we stood in the little trail! Slight as it was, +it appeared to us a very Broadway to Paradise if broad ways ever lead +thither. Phelps hailed it and sank down in it like one reprieved from +death. But the boat? Leaving him, we quickly ran a quarter of a mile +down to the inlet. The boat was there. Our shout to the guide would +have roused him out of a death-slumber. He came down the trail with the +agility of an aged deer: never was so glad a sound in his ear, he said, +as that shout. It was in a very jubilant mood that we emptied the boat +of water, pushed off, shipped the clumsy oars, and bent to the two-mile +row through the black waters of the winding, desolate channel, and over +the lake, whose dark waves were tossed a little in the morning breeze. +The trunks of dead trees stand about this lake, and all its shores are +ragged with ghastly drift-wood; but it was open to the sky, and although +the heavy clouds still obscured all the mountain-ranges we had a sense +of escape and freedom that almost made the melancholy scene lovely. + +How lightly past hardship sits upon us! All the misery of the night +vanished, as if it had not been, in the shelter of the log cabin at Mud +Pond, with dry clothes that fitted us as the skin of the bear fits him +in the spring, a noble breakfast, a toasting fire, solicitude about our +comfort, judicious sympathy with our suffering, and willingness to hear +the now growing tale of our adventure. Then came, in a day of absolute +idleness, while the showers came and went, and the mountains appeared +and disappeared in sun and storm, that perfect physical enjoyment which +consists in a feeling of strength without any inclination to use it, +and in a delicious languor which is too enjoyable to be surrendered to +sleep. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's In the Wilderness, by Charles Dudley Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE WILDERNESS *** + +***** This file should be named 3132-0.txt or 3132-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/3132/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/3132-0.zip b/3132-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc1b653 --- /dev/null +++ b/3132-0.zip diff --git a/3132-h.zip b/3132-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb392b5 --- /dev/null +++ b/3132-h.zip diff --git a/3132-h/3132-h.htm b/3132-h/3132-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9396c72 --- /dev/null +++ b/3132-h/3132-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3881 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + In the Wilderness, by Charles Dudley Warner + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of In the Wilderness, by Charles Dudley Warner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: In the Wilderness + +Author: Charles Dudley Warner + +Release Date: August 22, 2006 [EBook #3132] +Last Updated: February 24, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE WILDERNESS *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + IN THE WILDERNESS + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Charles Dudley Warner + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. </a> + </td> + <td> + HOW I KILLED A BEAR + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. </a> + </td> + <td> + LOST IN THE WOODS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. </a> + </td> + <td> + A FIGHT WITH A TROUT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + A-HUNTING OF THE DEER + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. </a> + </td> + <td> + A CHARACTER STUDY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. </a> + </td> + <td> + CAMPING OUT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VII. </a> + </td> + <td> + A WILDERNESS ROMANCE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. </a> + </td> + <td> + WHAT SOME PEOPLE CALL PLEASURE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. HOW I KILLED A BEAR + </h2> + <p> + So many conflicting accounts have appeared about my casual encounter with + an Adirondack bear last summer that in justice to the public, to myself, + and to the bear, it is necessary to make a plain statement of the facts. + Besides, it is so seldom I have occasion to kill a bear, that the + celebration of the exploit may be excused. + </p> + <p> + The encounter was unpremeditated on both sides. I was not hunting for a + bear, and I have no reason to suppose that a bear was looking for me. The + fact is, that we were both out blackberrying, and met by chance, the usual + way. There is among the Adirondack visitors always a great deal of + conversation about bears,—a general expression of the wish to see + one in the woods, and much speculation as to how a person would act if he + or she chanced to meet one. But bears are scarce and timid, and appear + only to a favored few. + </p> + <p> + It was a warm day in August, just the sort of day when an adventure of any + kind seemed impossible. But it occurred to the housekeepers at our cottage—there + were four of them—to send me to the clearing, on the mountain back + of the house, to pick blackberries. It was rather a series of small + clearings, running up into the forest, much overgrown with bushes and + briers, and not unromantic. Cows pastured there, penetrating through the + leafy passages from one opening to another, and browsing among the bushes. + I was kindly furnished with a six-quart pail, and told not to be gone + long. + </p> + <p> + Not from any predatory instinct, but to save appearances, I took a gun. It + adds to the manly aspect of a person with a tin pail if he also carries a + gun. It was possible I might start up a partridge; though how I was to hit + him, if he started up instead of standing still, puzzled me. Many people + use a shotgun for partridges. I prefer the rifle: it makes a clean job of + death, and does not prematurely stuff the bird with globules of lead. The + rifle was a Sharps, carrying a ball cartridge (ten to the pound),—an + excellent weapon belonging to a friend of mine, who had intended, for a + good many years back, to kill a deer with it. He could hit a tree with it—if + the wind did not blow, and the atmosphere was just right, and the tree was + not too far off—nearly every time. Of course, the tree must have + some size. Needless to say that I was at that time no sportsman. Years ago + I killed a robin under the most humiliating circumstances. The bird was in + a low cherry-tree. I loaded a big shotgun pretty full, crept up under the + tree, rested the gun on the fence, with the muzzle more than ten feet from + the bird, shut both eyes, and pulled the trigger. When I got up to see + what had happened, the robin was scattered about under the tree in more + than a thousand pieces, no one of which was big enough to enable a + naturalist to decide from it to what species it belonged. This disgusted + me with the life of a sportsman. I mention the incident to show that, + although I went blackberrying armed, there was not much inequality between + me and the bear. + </p> + <p> + In this blackberry-patch bears had been seen. The summer before, our + colored cook, accompanied by a little girl of the vicinage, was picking + berries there one day, when a bear came out of the woods, and walked + towards them. The girl took to her heels, and escaped. Aunt Chloe was + paralyzed with terror. Instead of attempting to run, she sat down on the + ground where she was standing, and began to weep and scream, giving + herself up for lost. The bear was bewildered by this conduct. He + approached and looked at her; he walked around and surveyed her. Probably + he had never seen a colored person before, and did not know whether she + would agree with him: at any rate, after watching her a few moments, he + turned about, and went into the forest. This is an authentic instance of + the delicate consideration of a bear, and is much more remarkable than the + forbearance towards the African slave of the well-known lion, because the + bear had no thorn in his foot. + </p> + <p> + When I had climbed the hill,—I set up my rifle against a tree, and + began picking berries, lured on from bush to bush by the black gleam of + fruit (that always promises more in the distance than it realizes when you + reach it); penetrating farther and farther, through leaf-shaded cow-paths + flecked with sunlight, into clearing after clearing. I could hear on all + sides the tinkle of bells, the cracking of sticks, and the stamping of + cattle that were taking refuge in the thicket from the flies. + Occasionally, as I broke through a covert, I encountered a meek cow, who + stared at me stupidly for a second, and then shambled off into the brush. + I became accustomed to this dumb society, and picked on in silence, + attributing all the wood noises to the cattle, thinking nothing of any + real bear. In point of fact, however, I was thinking all the time of a + nice romantic bear, and as I picked, was composing a story about a + generous she-bear who had lost her cub, and who seized a small girl in + this very wood, carried her tenderly off to a cave, and brought her up on + bear's milk and honey. When the girl got big enough to run away, moved by + her inherited instincts, she escaped, and came into the valley to her + father's house (this part of the story was to be worked out, so that the + child would know her father by some family resemblance, and have some + language in which to address him), and told him where the bear lived. The + father took his gun, and, guided by the unfeeling daughter, went into the + woods and shot the bear, who never made any resistance, and only, when + dying, turned reproachful eyes upon her murderer. The moral of the tale + was to be kindness to animals. + </p> + <p> + I was in the midst of this tale when I happened to look some rods away to + the other edge of the clearing, and there was a bear! He was standing on + his hind legs, and doing just what I was doing,—picking + blackberries. With one paw he bent down the bush, while with the other he + clawed the berries into his mouth,—green ones and all. To say that I + was astonished is inside the mark. I suddenly discovered that I didn't + want to see a bear, after all. At about the same moment the bear saw me, + stopped eating berries, and regarded me with a glad surprise. It is all + very well to imagine what you would do under such circumstances. Probably + you wouldn't do it: I didn't. The bear dropped down on his forefeet, and + came slowly towards me. Climbing a tree was of no use, with so good a + climber in the rear. If I started to run, I had no doubt the bear would + give chase; and although a bear cannot run down hill as fast as he can run + up hill, yet I felt that he could get over this rough, brush-tangled + ground faster than I could. + </p> + <p> + The bear was approaching. It suddenly occurred to me how I could divert + his mind until I could fall back upon my military base. My pail was nearly + full of excellent berries, much better than the bear could pick himself. I + put the pail on the ground, and slowly backed away from it, keeping my + eye, as beast-tamers do, on the bear. The ruse succeeded. + </p> + <p> + The bear came up to the berries, and stopped. Not accustomed to eat out of + a pail, he tipped it over, and nosed about in the fruit, “gorming” (if + there is such a word) it down, mixed with leaves and dirt, like a pig. The + bear is a worse feeder than the pig. Whenever he disturbs a maple-sugar + camp in the spring, he always upsets the buckets of syrup, and tramples + round in the sticky sweets, wasting more than he eats. The bear's manners + are thoroughly disagreeable. + </p> + <p> + As soon as my enemy's head was down, I started and ran. Somewhat out of + breath, and shaky, I reached my faithful rifle. It was not a moment too + soon. I heard the bear crashing through the brush after me. Enraged at my + duplicity, he was now coming on with blood in his eye. I felt that the + time of one of us was probably short. The rapidity of thought at such + moments of peril is well known. I thought an octavo volume, had it + illustrated and published, sold fifty thousand copies, and went to Europe + on the proceeds, while that bear was loping across the clearing. As I was + cocking the gun, I made a hasty and unsatisfactory review of my whole + life. I noted, that, even in such a compulsory review, it is almost + impossible to think of any good thing you have done. The sins come out + uncommonly strong. I recollected a newspaper subscription I had delayed + paying years and years ago, until both editor and newspaper were dead, and + which now never could be paid to all eternity. + </p> + <p> + The bear was coming on. + </p> + <p> + I tried to remember what I had read about encounters with bears. I + couldn't recall an instance in which a man had run away from a bear in the + woods and escaped, although I recalled plenty where the bear had run from + the man and got off. I tried to think what is the best way to kill a bear + with a gun, when you are not near enough to club him with the stock. My + first thought was to fire at his head; to plant the ball between his eyes: + but this is a dangerous experiment. The bear's brain is very small; and, + unless you hit that, the bear does not mind a bullet in his head; that is, + not at the time. I remembered that the instant death of the bear would + follow a bullet planted just back of his fore-leg, and sent into his + heart. This spot is also difficult to reach, unless the bear stands off, + side towards you, like a target. I finally determined to fire at him + generally. + </p> + <p> + The bear was coming on. + </p> + <p> + The contest seemed to me very different from anything at Creedmoor. I had + carefully read the reports of the shooting there; but it was not easy to + apply the experience I had thus acquired. I hesitated whether I had better + fire lying on my stomach or lying on my back, and resting the gun on my + toes. But in neither position, I reflected, could I see the bear until he + was upon me. The range was too short; and the bear wouldn't wait for me to + examine the thermometer, and note the direction of the wind. Trial of the + Creedmoor method, therefore, had to be abandoned; and I bitterly regretted + that I had not read more accounts of offhand shooting. + </p> + <p> + For the bear was coming on. + </p> + <p> + I tried to fix my last thoughts upon my family. As my family is small, + this was not difficult. Dread of displeasing my wife, or hurting her + feelings, was uppermost in my mind. What would be her anxiety as hour + after hour passed on, and I did not return! What would the rest of the + household think as the afternoon passed, and no blackberries came! What + would be my wife's mortification when the news was brought that her + husband had been eaten by a bear! I cannot imagine anything more + ignominious than to have a husband eaten by a bear. And this was not my + only anxiety. The mind at such times is not under control. With the + gravest fears the most whimsical ideas will occur. I looked beyond the + mourning friends, and thought what kind of an epitaph they would be + compelled to put upon the stone. + </p> + <p> + Something like this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + HERE LIE THE REMAINS + + OF + ——- ———- + + EATEN BY A BEAR + Aug. 20, 1877 +</pre> + <p> + It is a very unheroic and even disagreeable epitaph. That “eaten by a + bear” is intolerable. It is grotesque. And then I thought what an + inadequate language the English is for compact expression. It would not + answer to put upon the stone simply “eaten”; for that is indefinite, and + requires explanation: it might mean eaten by a cannibal. This difficulty + could not occur in the German, where essen signifies the act of feeding by + a man, and fressen by a beast. How simple the thing would be in German! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + HIER LIEGT + HOCHWOHLGEBOREN + HERR —— ——— + + GEFRESSEN + Aug. 20, 1877 +</pre> + <p> + That explains itself. The well-born one was eaten by a beast, and + presumably by a bear,—an animal that has a bad reputation since the + days of Elisha. + </p> + <p> + The bear was coming on; he had, in fact, come on. I judged that he could + see the whites of my eyes. All my subsequent reflections were confused. I + raised the gun, covered the bear's breast with the sight, and let drive. + Then I turned, and ran like a deer. I did not hear the bear pursuing. I + looked back. The bear had stopped. He was lying down. I then remembered + that the best thing to do after having fired your gun is to reload it. I + slipped in a charge, keeping my eyes on the bear. He never stirred. I + walked back suspiciously. There was a quiver in the hindlegs, but no other + motion. Still, he might be shamming: bears often sham. To make sure, I + approached, and put a ball into his head. He didn't mind it now: he minded + nothing. Death had come to him with a merciful suddenness. He was calm in + death. In order that he might remain so, I blew his brains out, and then + started for home. I had killed a bear! + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding my excitement, I managed to saunter into the house with an + unconcerned air. There was a chorus of voices: + </p> + <p> + “Where are your blackberries?” “Why were you gone so long?” “Where's your + pail?” + </p> + <p> + “I left the pail.” + </p> + <p> + “Left the pail? What for?” + </p> + <p> + “A bear wanted it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the last I saw of it, a bear had it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come! You didn't really see a bear?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I did really see a real bear.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he run?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: he ran after me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe a word of it. What did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! nothing particular—except kill the bear.” + </p> + <p> + Cries of “Gammon!” “Don't believe it!” “Where's the bear?” + </p> + <p> + “If you want to see the bear, you must go up into the woods. I couldn't + bring him down alone.” + </p> + <p> + Having satisfied the household that something extraordinary had occurred, + and excited the posthumous fear of some of them for my own safety, I went + down into the valley to get help. The great bear-hunter, who keeps one of + the summer boarding-houses, received my story with a smile of incredulity; + and the incredulity spread to the other inhabitants and to the boarders as + soon as the story was known. However, as I insisted in all soberness, and + offered to lead them to the bear, a party of forty or fifty people at last + started off with me to bring the bear in. Nobody believed there was any + bear in the case; but everybody who could get a gun carried one; and we + went into the woods armed with guns, pistols, pitchforks, and sticks, + against all contingencies or surprises,—a crowd made up mostly of + scoffers and jeerers. + </p> + <p> + But when I led the way to the fatal spot, and pointed out the bear, lying + peacefully wrapped in his own skin, something like terror seized the + boarders, and genuine excitement the natives. It was a no-mistake bear, by + George! and the hero of the fight well, I will not insist upon that. But + what a procession that was, carrying the bear home! and what a + congregation, was speedily gathered in the valley to see the bear! Our + best preacher up there never drew anything like it on Sunday. + </p> + <p> + And I must say that my particular friends, who were sportsmen, behaved + very well, on the whole. They didn't deny that it was a bear, although + they said it was small for a bear. Mr... Deane, who is equally good with a + rifle and a rod, admitted that it was a very fair shot. He is probably the + best salmon fisher in the United States, and he is an equally good hunter. + I suppose there is no person in America who is more desirous to kill a + moose than he. But he needlessly remarked, after he had examined the wound + in the bear, that he had seen that kind of a shot made by a cow's horn. + </p> + <p> + This sort of talk affected me not. When I went to sleep that night, my + last delicious thought was, “I've killed a bear!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. LOST IN THE WOODS + </h2> + <p> + It ought to be said, by way of explanation, that my being lost in the + woods was not premeditated. Nothing could have been more informal. This + apology can be necessary only to those who are familiar with the + Adirondack literature. Any person not familiar with it would see the + absurdity of one going to the Northern Wilderness with the deliberate + purpose of writing about himself as a lost man. It may be true that a book + about this wild tract would not be recognized as complete without a + lost-man story in it, since it is almost as easy for a stranger to get + lost in the Adirondacks as in Boston. I merely desire to say that my + unimportant adventure is not narrated in answer to the popular demand, and + I do not wish to be held responsible for its variation from the typical + character of such experiences. + </p> + <p> + We had been in camp a week, on the Upper Au Sable Lake. This is a gem—emerald + or turquoise as the light changes it—set in the virgin forest. It is + not a large body of water, is irregular in form, and about a mile and a + half in length; but in the sweep of its wooded shores, and the lovely + contour of the lofty mountains that guard it, the lake is probably the + most charming in America. Why the young ladies and gentlemen who camp + there occasionally vex the days and nights with hooting, and singing + sentimental songs, is a mystery even to the laughing loon. + </p> + <p> + I left my companions there one Saturday morning, to return to Keene + Valley, intending to fish down the Au Sable River. The Upper Lake + discharges itself into the Lower by a brook which winds through a mile and + a half of swamp and woods. Out of the north end of the Lower Lake, which + is a huge sink in the mountains, and mirrors the savage precipices, the Au + Sable breaks its rocky barriers, and flows through a wild gorge, several + miles, to the valley below. Between the Lower Lake and the settlements is + an extensive forest, traversed by a cart-path, admirably constructed of + loose stones, roots of trees, decayed logs, slippery rocks, and mud. The + gorge of the river forms its western boundary. I followed this caricature + of a road a mile or more; then gave my luggage to the guide to carry home, + and struck off through the forest, by compass, to the river. I promised + myself an exciting scramble down this little-frequented canyon, and a + creel full of trout. There was no difficulty in finding the river, or in + descending the steep precipice to its bed: getting into a scrape is + usually the easiest part of it. The river is strewn with bowlders, big and + little, through which the amber water rushes with an unceasing thunderous + roar, now plunging down in white falls, then swirling round in dark pools. + The day, already past meridian, was delightful; at least, the blue strip + of it I could see overhead. + </p> + <p> + Better pools and rapids for trout never were, I thought, as I concealed + myself behind a bowlder, and made the first cast. There is nothing like + the thrill of expectation over the first throw in unfamiliar waters. + Fishing is like gambling, in that failure only excites hope of a fortunate + throw next time. There was no rise to the “leader” on the first cast, nor + on the twenty-first; and I cautiously worked my way down stream, throwing + right and left. When I had gone half a mile, my opinion of the character + of the pools was unchanged: never were there such places for trout; but + the trout were out of their places. Perhaps they didn't care for the fly: + some trout seem to be so unsophisticated as to prefer the worm. I replaced + the fly with a baited hook: the worm squirmed; the waters rushed and + roared; a cloud sailed across the blue: no trout rose to the lonesome + opportunity. There is a certain companionship in the presence of trout, + especially when you can feel them flopping in your fish basket; but it + became evident that there were no trout in this wilderness, and a sense of + isolation for the first time came over me. There was no living thing near. + The river had by this time entered a deeper gorge; walls of rocks rose + perpendicularly on either side,—picturesque rocks, painted many + colors by the oxide of iron. It was not possible to climb out of the + gorge; it was impossible to find a way by the side of the river; and + getting down the bed, over the falls, and through the flumes, was not + easy, and consumed time. + </p> + <p> + Was that thunder? Very likely. But thunder showers are always brewing in + these mountain fortresses, and it did not occur to me that there was + anything personal in it. Very soon, however, the hole in the sky closed + in, and the rain dashed down. It seemed a providential time to eat my + luncheon; and I took shelter under a scraggy pine that had rooted itself + in the edge of the rocky slope. The shower soon passed, and I continued my + journey, creeping over the slippery rocks, and continuing to show my + confidence in the unresponsive trout. The way grew wilder and more + grewsome. The thunder began again, rolling along over the tops of the + mountains, and reverberating in sharp concussions in the gorge: the + lightning also darted down into the darkening passage, and then the rain. + Every enlightened being, even if he is in a fisherman's dress of shirt and + pantaloons, hates to get wet; and I ignominiously crept under the edge of + a sloping bowlder. It was all very well at first, until streams of water + began to crawl along the face of the rock, and trickle down the back of my + neck. This was refined misery, unheroic and humiliating, as suffering + always is when unaccompanied by resignation. + </p> + <p> + A longer time than I knew was consumed in this and repeated efforts to + wait for the slackening and renewing storm to pass away. In the intervals + of calm I still fished, and even descended to what a sportsman considers + incredible baseness: I put a “sinker” on my line. It is the practice of + the country folk, whose only object is to get fish, to use a good deal of + bait, sink the hook to the bottom of the pools, and wait the slow appetite + of the summer trout. I tried this also. I might as well have fished in a + pork barrel. It is true that in one deep, black, round pool I lured a + small trout from the bottom, and deposited him in the creel; but it was an + accident. Though I sat there in the awful silence (the roar of water and + thunder only emphasized the stillness) full half an hour, I was not + encouraged by another nibble. Hope, however, did not die: I always + expected to find the trout in the next flume; and so I toiled slowly on, + unconscious of the passing time. At each turn of the stream I expected to + see the end, and at each turn I saw a long, narrow stretch of rocks and + foaming water. Climbing out of the ravine was, in most places, simply + impossible; and I began to look with interest for a slide, where bushes + rooted in the scant earth would enable me to scale the precipice. I did + not doubt that I was nearly through the gorge. I could at length see the + huge form of the Giant of the Valley, scarred with avalanches, at the end + of the vista; and it seemed not far off. But it kept its distance, as only + a mountain can, while I stumbled and slid down the rocky way. The rain had + now set in with persistence, and suddenly I became aware that it was + growing dark; and I said to myself, “If you don't wish to spend the night + in this horrible chasm, you'd better escape speedily.” Fortunately I + reached a place where the face of the precipice was bushgrown, and with + considerable labor scrambled up it. + </p> + <p> + Having no doubt that I was within half a mile, perhaps within a few rods, + of the house above the entrance of the gorge, and that, in any event, I + should fall into the cart-path in a few minutes, I struck boldly into the + forest, congratulating myself on having escaped out of the river. So sure + was I of my whereabouts that I did not note the bend of the river, nor + look at my compass. The one trout in my basket was no burden, and I + stepped lightly out. + </p> + <p> + The forest was of hard-wood, and open, except for a thick undergrowth of + moose-bush. It was raining,—in fact, it had been raining, more or + less, for a month,—and the woods were soaked. This moose-bush is + most annoying stuff to travel through in a rain; for the broad leaves slap + one in the face, and sop him with wet. The way grew every moment more + dingy. The heavy clouds above the thick foliage brought night on + prematurely. It was decidedly premature to a near-sighted man, whose + glasses the rain rendered useless: such a person ought to be at home + early. On leaving the river bank I had borne to the left, so as to be sure + to strike either the clearing or the road, and not wander off into the + measureless forest. I confidently pursued this course, and went gayly on + by the left flank. That I did not come to any opening or path only showed + that I had slightly mistaken the distance: I was going in the right + direction. + </p> + <p> + I was so certain of this that I quickened my pace and got up with alacrity + every time I tumbled down amid the slippery leaves and catching roots, and + hurried on. And I kept to the left. It even occurred to me that I was + turning to the left so much that I might come back to the river again. It + grew more dusky, and rained more violently; but there was nothing alarming + in the situation, since I knew exactly where I was. It was a little + mortifying that I had miscalculated the distance: yet, so far was I from + feeling any uneasiness about this that I quickened my pace again, and, + before I knew it, was in a full run; that is, as full a run as a person + can indulge in in the dusk, with so many trees in the way. No nervousness, + but simply a reasonable desire to get there. I desired to look upon myself + as the person “not lost, but gone before.” As time passed, and darkness + fell, and no clearing or road appeared, I ran a little faster. It didn't + seem possible that the people had moved, or the road been changed; and yet + I was sure of my direction. I went on with an energy increased by the + ridiculousness of the situation, the danger that an experienced woodsman + was in of getting home late for supper; the lateness of the meal being + nothing to the gibes of the unlost. How long I kept this course, and how + far I went on, I do not know; but suddenly I stumbled against an + ill-placed tree, and sat down on the soaked ground, a trifle out of + breath. It then occurred to me that I had better verify my course by the + compass. There was scarcely light enough to distinguish the black end of + the needle. To my amazement, the compass, which was made near Greenwich, + was wrong. Allowing for the natural variation of the needle, it was + absurdly wrong. It made out that I was going south when I was going north. + It intimated that, instead of turning to the left, I had been making a + circuit to the right. According to the compass, the Lord only knew where I + was. + </p> + <p> + The inclination of persons in the woods to travel in a circle is + unexplained. I suppose it arises from the sympathy of the legs with the + brain. Most people reason in a circle: their minds go round and round, + always in the same track. For the last half hour I had been saying over a + sentence that started itself: “I wonder where that road is!” I had said it + over till it had lost all meaning. I kept going round on it; and yet I + could not believe that my body had been traveling in a circle. Not being + able to recognize any tracks, I have no evidence that I had so traveled, + except the general testimony of lost men. + </p> + <p> + The compass annoyed me. I've known experienced guides utterly discredit + it. It couldn't be that I was to turn about, and go the way I had come. + Nevertheless, I said to myself, “You'd better keep a cool head, my boy, or + you are in for a night of it. Better listen to science than to spunk.” And + I resolved to heed the impartial needle. I was a little weary of the rough + tramping: but it was necessary to be moving; for, with wet clothes and the + night air, I was decidedly chilly. I turned towards the north, and slipped + and stumbled along. A more uninviting forest to pass the night in I never + saw. Every-thing was soaked. If I became exhausted, it would be necessary + to build a fire; and, as I walked on, I couldn't find a dry bit of wood. + Even if a little punk were discovered in a rotten log I had no hatchet to + cut fuel. I thought it all over calmly. I had the usual three matches in + my pocket. I knew exactly what would happen if I tried to build a fire. + The first match would prove to be wet. The second match, when struck, + would shine and smell, and fizz a little, and then go out. There would be + only one match left. Death would ensue if it failed. I should get close to + the log, crawl under my hat, strike the match, see it catch, flicker, + almost go out (the reader painfully excited by this time), blaze up, + nearly expire, and finally fire the punk,—thank God! And I said to + myself, “The public don't want any more of this thing: it is played out. + Either have a box of matches, or let the first one catch fire.” + </p> + <p> + In this gloomy mood I plunged along. The prospect was cheerless; for, + apart from the comfort that a fire would give, it is necessary, at night, + to keep off the wild beasts. I fancied I could hear the tread of the + stealthy brutes following their prey. But there was one source of profound + satisfaction,—the catamount had been killed. Mr. Colvin, the + triangulating surveyor of the Adirondacks, killed him in his last official + report to the State. Whether he despatched him with a theodolite or a + barometer does not matter: he is officially dead, and none of the + travelers can kill him any more. Yet he has served them a good turn. + </p> + <p> + I knew that catamount well. One night when we lay in the bogs of the South + Beaver Meadow, under a canopy of mosquitoes, the serene midnight was + parted by a wild and humanlike cry from a neighboring mountain. “That's a + cat,” said the guide. I felt in a moment that it was the voice of “modern + cultchah.” “Modern culture,” says Mr. Joseph Cook in a most impressive + period,—“modern culture is a child crying in the wilderness, and + with no voice but a cry.” That describes the catamount exactly. The next + day, when we ascended the mountain, we came upon the traces of this brute,—a + spot where he had stood and cried in the night; and I confess that my hair + rose with the consciousness of his recent presence, as it is said to do + when a spirit passes by. + </p> + <p> + Whatever consolation the absence of catamount in a dark, drenched, and + howling wilderness can impart, that I experienced; but I thought what a + satire upon my present condition was modern culture, with its plain + thinking and high living! It was impossible to get much satisfaction out + of the real and the ideal,—the me and the not-me. At this time what + impressed me most was the absurdity of my position looked at in the light + of modern civilization and all my advantages and acquirements. It seemed + pitiful that society could do absolutely nothing for me. It was, in fact, + humiliating to reflect that it would now be profitable to exchange all my + possessions for the woods instinct of the most unlettered guide. I began + to doubt the value of the “culture” that blunts the natural instincts. + </p> + <p> + It began to be a question whether I could hold out to walk all night; for + I must travel, or perish. And now I imagined that a spectre was walking by + my side. This was Famine. To be sure, I had only recently eaten a hearty + luncheon: but the pangs of hunger got hold on me when I thought that I + should have no supper, no breakfast; and, as the procession of + unattainable meals stretched before me, I grew hungrier and hungrier. I + could feel that I was becoming gaunt, and wasting away: already I seemed + to be emaciated. It is astonishing how speedily a jocund, well-conditioned + human being can be transformed into a spectacle of poverty and want, Lose + a man in the Woods, drench him, tear his pantaloons, get his imagination + running on his lost supper and the cheerful fireside that is expecting + him, and he will become haggard in an hour. I am not dwelling upon these + things to excite the reader's sympathy, but only to advise him, if he + contemplates an adventure of this kind, to provide himself with matches, + kindling wood, something more to eat than one raw trout, and not to select + a rainy night for it. + </p> + <p> + Nature is so pitiless, so unresponsive, to a person in trouble! I had read + of the soothing companionship of the forest, the pleasure of the pathless + woods. But I thought, as I stumbled along in the dismal actuality, that, + if I ever got out of it, I would write a letter to the newspapers, + exposing the whole thing. There is an impassive, stolid brutality about + the woods that has never been enough insisted on. I tried to keep my mind + fixed upon the fact of man's superiority to Nature; his ability to + dominate and outwit her. My situation was an amusing satire on this + theory. I fancied that I could feel a sneer in the woods at my detected + conceit. There was something personal in it. The downpour of the rain and + the slipperiness of the ground were elements of discomfort; but there was, + besides these, a kind of terror in the very character of the forest + itself. I think this arose not more from its immensity than from the kind + of stolidity to which I have alluded. It seemed to me that it would be a + sort of relief to kick the trees. I don't wonder that the bears fall to, + occasionally, and scratch the bark off the great pines and maples, tearing + it angrily away. One must have some vent to his feelings. It is a common + experience of people lost in the woods to lose their heads; and even the + woodsmen themselves are not free from this panic when some accident has + thrown them out of their reckoning. Fright unsettles the judgment: the + oppressive silence of the woods is a vacuum in which the mind goes astray. + It's a hollow sham, this pantheism, I said; being “one with Nature” is all + humbug: I should like to see somebody. Man, to be sure, is of very little + account, and soon gets beyond his depth; but the society of the least + human being is better than this gigantic indifference. The “rapture on the + lonely shore” is agreeable only when you know you can at any moment go + home. + </p> + <p> + I had now given up all expectation of finding the road, and was steering + my way as well as I could northward towards the valley. In my haste I made + slow progress. Probably the distance I traveled was short, and the time + consumed not long; but I seemed to be adding mile to mile, and hour to + hour. I had time to review the incidents of the Russo-Turkish war, and to + forecast the entire Eastern question; I outlined the characters of all my + companions left in camp, and sketched in a sort of comedy the sympathetic + and disparaging observations they would make on my adventure; I repeated + something like a thousand times, without contradiction, “What a fool you + were to leave the river!” I stopped twenty times, thinking I heard its + loud roar, always deceived by the wind in the tree-tops; I began to + entertain serious doubts about the compass,—when suddenly I became + aware that I was no longer on level ground: I was descending a slope; I + was actually in a ravine. In a moment more I was in a brook newly formed + by the rain. “Thank Heaven!” I cried: “this I shall follow, whatever + conscience or the compass says.” In this region, all streams go, sooner or + later, into the valley. This ravine, this stream, no doubt, led to the + river. I splashed and tumbled along down it in mud and water. Down hill we + went together, the fall showing that I must have wandered to high ground. + When I guessed that I must be close to the river, I suddenly stepped into + mud up to my ankles. It was the road,—running, of course, the wrong + way, but still the blessed road. It was a mere canal of liquid mud; but + man had made it, and it would take me home. I was at least three miles + from the point I supposed I was near at sunset, and I had before me a + toilsome walk of six or seven miles, most of the way in a ditch; but it is + truth to say that I enjoyed every step of it. I was safe; I knew where I + was; and I could have walked till morning. The mind had again got the + upper hand of the body, and began to plume itself on its superiority: it + was even disposed to doubt whether it had been “lost” at all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. A FIGHT WITH A TROUT + </h2> + <p> + Trout fishing in the Adirondacks would be a more attractive pastime than + it is but for the popular notion of its danger. The trout is a retiring + and harmless animal, except when he is aroused and forced into a combat; + and then his agility, fierceness, and vindictiveness become apparent. No + one who has studied the excellent pictures representing men in an open + boat, exposed to the assaults of long, enraged trout flying at them + through the open air with open mouth, ever ventures with his rod upon the + lonely lakes of the forest without a certain terror, or ever reads of the + exploits of daring fishermen without a feeling of admiration for their + heroism. Most of their adventures are thrilling, and all of them are, in + narration, more or less unjust to the trout: in fact, the object of them + seems to be to exhibit, at the expense of the trout, the shrewdness, the + skill, and the muscular power of the sportsman. My own simple story has + few of these recommendations. + </p> + <p> + We had built our bark camp one summer and were staying on one of the + popular lakes of the Saranac region. It would be a very pretty region if + it were not so flat, if the margins of the lakes had not been flooded by + dams at the outlets, which have killed the trees, and left a rim of + ghastly deadwood like the swamps of the under-world pictured by Dore's + bizarre pencil,—and if the pianos at the hotels were in tune. It + would be an excellent sporting region also (for there is water enough) if + the fish commissioners would stock the waters, and if previous hunters had + not pulled all the hair and skin off from the deers' tails. Formerly + sportsmen had a habit of catching the deer by the tails, and of being + dragged in mere wantonness round and round the shores. It is well known + that if you seize a deer by this “holt” the skin will slip off like the + peel from a banana—This reprehensible practice was carried so far + that the traveler is now hourly pained by the sight of peeled-tail deer + mournfully sneaking about the wood. + </p> + <p> + We had been hearing, for weeks, of a small lake in the heart of the virgin + forest, some ten miles from our camp, which was alive with trout, + unsophisticated, hungry trout: the inlet to it was described as stiff with + them. In my imagination I saw them lying there in ranks and rows, each a + foot long, three tiers deep, a solid mass. The lake had never been visited + except by stray sable hunters in the winter, and was known as the Unknown + Pond. I determined to explore it, fully expecting, however, that it would + prove to be a delusion, as such mysterious haunts of the trout usually + are. Confiding my purpose to Luke, we secretly made our preparations, and + stole away from the shanty one morning at daybreak. Each of us carried a + boat, a pair of blankets, a sack of bread, pork, and maple-sugar; while I + had my case of rods, creel, and book of flies, and Luke had an axe and the + kitchen utensils. We think nothing of loads of this sort in the woods. + </p> + <p> + Five miles through a tamarack swamp brought us to the inlet of Unknown + Pond, upon which we embarked our fleet, and paddled down its vagrant + waters. They were at first sluggish, winding among triste fir-trees, but + gradually developed a strong current. At the end of three miles a loud + roar ahead warned us that we were approaching rapids, falls, and cascades. + We paused. The danger was unknown. We had our choice of shouldering our + loads and making a detour through the woods, or of “shooting the rapids.” + Naturally we chose the more dangerous course. Shooting the rapids has + often been described, and I will not repeat the description here. It is + needless to say that I drove my frail bark through the boiling rapids, + over the successive waterfalls, amid rocks and vicious eddies, and landed, + half a mile below with whitened hair and a boat half full of water; and + that the guide was upset, and boat, contents, and man were strewn along + the shore. + </p> + <p> + After this common experience we went quickly on our journey, and, a couple + of hours before sundown, reached the lake. If I live to my dying day, I + never shall forget its appearance. The lake is almost an exact circle, + about a quarter of a mile in diameter. The forest about it was untouched + by axe, and unkilled by artificial flooding. The azure water had a perfect + setting of evergreens, in which all the shades of the fir, the balsam, the + pine, and the spruce were perfectly blended; and at intervals on the shore + in the emerald rim blazed the ruby of the cardinal flower. It was at once + evident that the unruffled waters had never been vexed by the keel of a + boat. But what chiefly attracted my attention, and amused me, was the + boiling of the water, the bubbling and breaking, as if the lake were a + vast kettle, with a fire underneath. A tyro would have been astonished at + this common phenomenon; but sportsmen will at once understand me when I + say that the water boiled with the breaking trout. I studied the surface + for some time to see upon what sort of flies they were feeding, in order + to suit my cast to their appetites; but they seemed to be at play rather + than feeding, leaping high in the air in graceful curves, and tumbling + about each other as we see them in the Adirondack pictures. + </p> + <p> + It is well known that no person who regards his reputation will ever kill + a trout with anything but a fly. It requires some training on the part of + the trout to take to this method. The uncultivated, unsophisticated trout + in unfrequented waters prefers the bait; and the rural people, whose sole + object in going a-fishing appears to be to catch fish, indulge them in + their primitive taste for the worm. No sportsman, however, will use + anything but a fly, except he happens to be alone. + </p> + <p> + While Luke launched my boat and arranged his seat in the stern, I prepared + my rod and line. The rod is a bamboo, weighing seven ounces, which has to + be spliced with a winding of silk thread every time it is used. This is a + tedious process; but, by fastening the joints in this way, a uniform + spring is secured in the rod. No one devoted to high art would think of + using a socket joint. My line was forty yards of untwisted silk upon a + multiplying reel. The “leader” (I am very particular about my leaders) had + been made to order from a domestic animal with which I had been + acquainted. The fisherman requires as good a catgut as the violinist. The + interior of the house cat, it is well known, is exceedingly sensitive; but + it may not be so well known that the reason why some cats leave the room + in distress when a piano-forte is played is because the two instruments + are not in the same key, and the vibrations of the chords of the one are + in discord with the catgut of the other. On six feet of this superior + article I fixed three artificial flies,—a simple brown hackle, a + gray body with scarlet wings, and one of my own invention, which I thought + would be new to the most experienced fly-catcher. The trout-fly does not + resemble any known species of insect. It is a “conventionalized” creation, + as we say of ornamentation. The theory is that, fly-fishing being a high + art, the fly must not be a tame imitation of nature, but an artistic + suggestion of it. It requires an artist to construct one; and not every + bungler can take a bit of red flannel, a peacock's feather, a flash of + tinsel thread, a cock's plume, a section of a hen's wing, and fabricate a + tiny object that will not look like any fly, but still will suggest the + universal conventional fly. + </p> + <p> + I took my stand in the center of the tipsy boat; and Luke shoved off, and + slowly paddled towards some lily-pads, while I began casting, unlimbering + my tools, as it were. The fish had all disappeared. I got out, perhaps, + fifty feet of line, with no response, and gradually increased it to one + hundred. It is not difficult to learn to cast; but it is difficult to + learn not to snap off the flies at every throw. Of this, however, we will + not speak. I continued casting for some moments, until I became satisfied + that there had been a miscalculation. Either the trout were too green to + know what I was at, or they were dissatisfied with my offers. I reeled in, + and changed the flies (that is, the fly that was not snapped off). After + studying the color of the sky, of the water, and of the foliage, and the + moderated light of the afternoon, I put on a series of beguilers, all of a + subdued brilliancy, in harmony with the approach of evening. At the second + cast, which was a short one, I saw a splash where the leader fell, and + gave an excited jerk. The next instant I perceived the game, and did not + need the unfeigned “dam” of Luke to convince me that I had snatched his + felt hat from his head and deposited it among the lilies. Discouraged by + this, we whirled about, and paddled over to the inlet, where a little + ripple was visible in the tinted light. At the very first cast I saw that + the hour had come. Three trout leaped into the air. The danger of this + manoeuvre all fishermen understand. It is one of the commonest in the + woods: three heavy trout taking hold at once, rushing in different + directions, smash the tackle into flinders. I evaded this catch, and threw + again. I recall the moment. A hermit thrush, on the tip of a balsam, + uttered his long, liquid, evening note. Happening to look over my + shoulder, I saw the peak of Marcy gleam rosy in the sky (I can't help it + that Marcy is fifty miles off, and cannot be seen from this region: these + incidental touches are always used). The hundred feet of silk swished + through the air, and the tail-fly fell as lightly on the water as a + three-cent piece (which no slamming will give the weight of a ten) drops + upon the contribution plate. Instantly there was a rush, a swirl. I + struck, and “Got him, by—-!” Never mind what Luke said I got him by. + “Out on a fly!” continued that irreverent guide; but I told him to back + water, and make for the center of the lake. The trout, as soon as he felt + the prick of the hook, was off like a shot, and took out the whole of the + line with a rapidity that made it smoke. “Give him the butt!” shouted + Luke. It is the usual remark in such an emergency. I gave him the butt; + and, recognizing the fact and my spirit, the trout at once sank to the + bottom, and sulked. It is the most dangerous mood of a trout; for you + cannot tell what he will do next. We reeled up a little, and waited five + minutes for him to reflect. A tightening of the line enraged him, and he + soon developed his tactics. Coming to the surface, he made straight for + the boat faster than I could reel in, and evidently with hostile + intentions. “Look out for him!” cried Luke as he came flying in the air. I + evaded him by dropping flat in the bottom of the boat; and, when I picked + my traps up, he was spinning across the lake as if he had a new idea: but + the line was still fast. He did not run far. I gave him the butt again; a + thing he seemed to hate, even as a gift. In a moment the evil-minded fish, + lashing the water in his rage, was coming back again, making straight for + the boat as before. Luke, who was used to these encounters, having read of + them in the writings of travelers he had accompanied, raised his paddle in + self-defense. The trout left the water about ten feet from the boat, and + came directly at me with fiery eyes, his speckled sides flashing like a + meteor. I dodged as he whisked by with a vicious slap of his bifurcated + tail, and nearly upset the boat. The line was of course slack, and the + danger was that he would entangle it about me, and carry away a leg. This + was evidently his game; but I untangled it, and only lost a breast button + or two by the swiftly-moving string. The trout plunged into the water with + a hissing sound, and went away again with all the line on the reel. More + butt; more indignation on the part of the captive. The contest had now + been going on for half an hour, and I was getting exhausted. We had been + back and forth across the lake, and round and round the lake. What I + feared was that the trout would start up the inlet and wreck us in the + bushes. But he had a new fancy, and began the execution of a manoeuvre + which I had never read of. Instead of coming straight towards me, he took + a large circle, swimming rapidly, and gradually contracting his orbit. I + reeled in, and kept my eye on him. Round and round he went, narrowing his + circle. I began to suspect the game; which was, to twist my head off.—When + he had reduced the radius of his circle to about twenty-five feet, he + struck a tremendous pace through the water. It would be false modesty in a + sportsman to say that I was not equal to the occasion. Instead of turning + round with him, as he expected, I stepped to the bow, braced myself, and + let the boat swing. Round went the fish, and round we went like a top. I + saw a line of Mount Marcys all round the horizon; the rosy tint in the + west made a broad band of pink along the sky above the tree-tops; the + evening star was a perfect circle of light, a hoop of gold in the heavens. + We whirled and reeled, and reeled and whirled. I was willing to give the + malicious beast butt and line, and all, if he would only go the other way + for a change. + </p> + <p> + When I came to myself, Luke was gaffing the trout at the boat-side. After + we had got him in and dressed him, he weighed three-quarters of a pound. + Fish always lose by being “got in and dressed.” It is best to weigh them + while they are in the water. The only really large one I ever caught got + away with my leader when I first struck him. He weighed ten pounds. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. A-HUNTING OF THE DEER + </h2> + <p> + If civilization owes a debt of gratitude to the self-sacrificing sportsmen + who have cleared the Adirondack regions of catamounts and savage trout, + what shall be said of the army which has so nobly relieved them of the + terror of the deer? The deer-slayers have somewhat celebrated their + exploits in print; but I think that justice has never been done them. + </p> + <p> + The American deer in the wilderness, left to himself, leads a + comparatively harmless but rather stupid life, with only such excitement + as his own timid fancy raises. It was very seldom that one of his tribe + was eaten by the North American tiger. For a wild animal he is very + domestic, simple in his tastes, regular in his habits, affectionate in his + family. Unfortunately for his repose, his haunch is as tender as his + heart. Of all wild creatures he is one of the most graceful in action, and + he poses with the skill of an experienced model. I have seen the goats on + Mount Pentelicus scatter at the approach of a stranger, climb to the sharp + points of projecting rocks, and attitudinize in the most self-conscious + manner, striking at once those picturesque postures against the sky with + which Oriental pictures have made us and them familiar. But the whole + proceeding was theatrical. + </p> + <p> + Greece is the home of art, and it is rare to find anything there natural + and unstudied. I presume that these goats have no nonsense about them when + they are alone with the goatherds, any more than the goatherds have, + except when they come to pose in the studio; but the long ages of culture, + the presence always to the eye of the best models and the forms of + immortal beauty, the heroic friezes of the Temple of Theseus, the marble + processions of sacrificial animals, have had a steady molding, educating + influence equal to a society of decorative art upon the people and the + animals who have dwelt in this artistic atmosphere. The Attic goat has + become an artificially artistic being; though of course he is not now what + he was, as a poser, in the days of Polycletus. There is opportunity for a + very instructive essay by Mr. E. A. Freeman on the decadence of the Attic + goat under the influence of the Ottoman Turk. + </p> + <p> + The American deer, in the free atmosphere of our country, and as yet + untouched by our decorative art, is without self-consciousness, and all + his attitudes are free and unstudied. The favorite position of the deer—his + fore-feet in the shallow margin of the lake, among the lily-pads, his + antlers thrown back and his nose in the air at the moment he hears the + stealthy breaking of a twig in the forest—is still spirited and + graceful, and wholly unaffected by the pictures of him which the artists + have put upon canvas. + </p> + <p> + Wherever you go in the Northern forest you will find deer-paths. So + plainly marked and well-trodden are they that it is easy to mistake them + for trails made by hunters; but he who follows one of them is soon in + difficulties. He may find himself climbing through cedar thickets an + almost inaccessible cliff, or immersed in the intricacies of a marsh. The + “run,” in one direction, will lead to water; but, in the other, it climbs + the highest hills, to which the deer retires, for safety and repose, in + impenetrable thickets. The hunters, in winter, find them congregated in + “yards,” where they can be surrounded and shot as easily as our troops + shoot Comanche women and children in their winter villages. These little + paths are full of pitfalls among the roots and stones; and, nimble as the + deer is, he sometimes breaks one of his slender legs in them. Yet he knows + how to treat himself without a surgeon. I knew of a tame deer in a + settlement in the edge of the forest who had the misfortune to break her + leg. She immediately disappeared with a delicacy rare in an invalid, and + was not seen for two weeks. Her friends had given her up, supposing that + she had dragged herself away into the depths of the woods, and died of + starvation, when one day she returned, cured of lameness, but thin as a + virgin shadow. She had the sense to shun the doctor; to lie down in some + safe place, and patiently wait for her leg to heal. I have observed in + many of the more refined animals this sort of shyness, and reluctance to + give trouble, which excite our admiration when noticed in mankind. + </p> + <p> + The deer is called a timid animal, and taunted with possessing courage + only when he is “at bay”; the stag will fight when he can no longer flee; + and the doe will defend her young in the face of murderous enemies. The + deer gets little credit for this eleventh-hour bravery. But I think that + in any truly Christian condition of society the deer would not be + conspicuous for cowardice. I suppose that if the American girl, even as + she is described in foreign romances, were pursued by bull-dogs, and fired + at from behind fences every time she ventured outdoors, she would become + timid, and reluctant to go abroad. When that golden era comes which the + poets think is behind us, and the prophets declare is about to be ushered + in by the opening of the “vials,” and the killing of everybody who does + not believe as those nations believe which have the most cannon; when we + all live in real concord,—perhaps the gentle-hearted deer will be + respected, and will find that men are not more savage to the weak than are + the cougars and panthers. If the little spotted fawn can think, it must + seem to her a queer world in which the advent of innocence is hailed by + the baying of fierce hounds and the “ping” of the rifle. + </p> + <p> + Hunting the deer in the Adirondacks is conducted in the most manly + fashion. There are several methods, and in none of them is a fair chance + to the deer considered. A favorite method with the natives is practiced in + winter, and is called by them “still hunting.” My idea of still hunting is + for one man to go alone into the forest, look about for a deer, put his + wits fairly against the wits of the keen-scented animal, and kill his + deer, or get lost in the attempt. There seems to be a sort of fairness + about this. It is private assassination, tempered with a little + uncertainty about finding your man. The still hunting of the natives has + all the romance and danger attending the slaughter of sheep in an + abattoir. As the snow gets deep, many deer congregate in the depths of the + forest, and keep a place trodden down, which grows larger as they tramp + down the snow in search of food. In time this refuge becomes a sort of + “yard,” surrounded by unbroken snow-banks. The hunters then make their way + to this retreat on snowshoes, and from the top of the banks pick off the + deer at leisure with their rifles, and haul them away to market, until the + enclosure is pretty much emptied. This is one of the surest methods of + exterminating the deer; it is also one of the most merciful; and, being + the plan adopted by our government for civilizing the Indian, it ought to + be popular. The only people who object to it are the summer sportsmen. + They naturally want some pleasure out of the death of the deer. + </p> + <p> + Some of our best sportsmen, who desire to protract the pleasure of slaying + deer through as many seasons as possible, object to the practice of the + hunters, who make it their chief business to slaughter as many deer in a + camping season as they can. Their own rule, they say, is to kill a deer + only when they need venison to eat. Their excuse is specious. What right + have these sophists to put themselves into a desert place, out of the + reach of provisions, and then ground a right to slay deer on their own + improvidence? If it is necessary for these people to have anything to eat, + which I doubt, it is not necessary that they should have the luxury of + venison. + </p> + <p> + One of the most picturesque methods of hunting the poor deer is called + “floating.” The person, with murder in his heart, chooses a cloudy night, + seats himself, rifle in hand, in a canoe, which is noiselessly paddled by + the guide, and explores the shore of the lake or the dark inlet. In the + bow of the boat is a light in a “jack,” the rays of which are shielded + from the boat and its occupants. A deer comes down to feed upon the + lily-pads. The boat approaches him. He looks up, and stands a moment, + terrified or fascinated by the bright flames. In that moment the sportsman + is supposed to shoot the deer. As an historical fact, his hand usually + shakes so that he misses the animal, or only wounds him; and the stag + limps away to die after days of suffering. Usually, however, the hunters + remain out all night, get stiff from cold and the cramped position in the + boat, and, when they return in the morning to camp, cloud their future + existence by the assertion that they “heard a big buck” moving along the + shore, but the people in camp made so much noise that he was frightened + off. + </p> + <p> + By all odds, the favorite and prevalent mode is hunting with dogs. The + dogs do the hunting, the men the killing. The hounds are sent into the + forest to rouse the deer, and drive him from his cover. They climb the + mountains, strike the trails, and go baying and yelping on the track of + the poor beast. The deer have their established runways, as I said; and, + when they are disturbed in their retreat, they are certain to attempt to + escape by following one which invariably leads to some lake or stream. All + that the hunter has to do is to seat himself by one of these runways, or + sit in a boat on the lake, and wait the coming of the pursued deer. The + frightened beast, fleeing from the unreasoning brutality of the hounds, + will often seek the open country, with a mistaken confidence in the + humanity of man. To kill a deer when he suddenly passes one on a runway + demands presence of mind and quickness of aim: to shoot him from the boat, + after he has plunged panting into the lake, requires the rare ability to + hit a moving object the size of a deer's head a few rods distant. Either + exploit is sufficient to make a hero of a common man. To paddle up to the + swimming deer, and cut his throat, is a sure means of getting venison, and + has its charms for some. Even women and doctors of divinity have enjoyed + this exquisite pleasure. It cannot be denied that we are so constituted by + a wise Creator as to feel a delight in killing a wild animal which we do + not experience in killing a tame one. + </p> + <p> + The pleasurable excitement of a deer-hunt has never, I believe, been + regarded from the deer's point of view. I happen to be in a position, by + reason of a lucky Adirondack experience, to present it in that light. I am + sorry if this introduction to my little story has seemed long to the + reader: it is too late now to skip it; but he can recoup himself by + omitting the story. + </p> + <p> + Early on the morning of the 23d of August, 1877, a doe was feeding on + Basin Mountain. The night had been warm and showery, and the morning + opened in an undecided way. The wind was southerly: it is what the deer + call a dog-wind, having come to know quite well the meaning of “a + southerly wind and a cloudy sky.” The sole companion of the doe was her + only child, a charming little fawn, whose brown coat was just beginning to + be mottled with the beautiful spots which make this young creature as + lovely as the gazelle. The buck, its father, had been that night on a long + tramp across the mountain to Clear Pond, and had not yet returned: he went + ostensibly to feed on the succulent lily-pads there. “He feedeth among the + lilies until the day break and the shadows flee away, and he should be + here by this hour; but he cometh not,” she said, “leaping upon the + mountains, skipping upon the hills.” Clear Pond was too far off for the + young mother to go with her fawn for a night's pleasure. It was a + fashionable watering-place at this season among the deer; and the doe may + have remembered, not without uneasiness, the moonlight meetings of a + frivolous society there. But the buck did not come: he was very likely + sleeping under one of the ledges on Tight Nippin. Was he alone? “I charge + you, by the roes and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not nor awake + my love till he please.” + </p> + <p> + The doe was feeding, daintily cropping the tender leaves of the young + shoots, and turning from time to time to regard her offspring. The fawn + had taken his morning meal, and now lay curled up on a bed of moss, + watching contentedly, with his large, soft brown eyes, every movement of + his mother. The great eyes followed her with an alert entreaty; and, if + the mother stepped a pace or two farther away in feeding, the fawn made a + half movement, as if to rise and follow her. You see, she was his sole + dependence in all the world. But he was quickly reassured when she turned + her gaze on him; and if, in alarm, he uttered a plaintive cry, she bounded + to him at once, and, with every demonstration of affection, licked his + mottled skin till it shone again. + </p> + <p> + It was a pretty picture,—maternal love on the one part, and happy + trust on the other. The doe was a beauty, and would have been so + considered anywhere, as graceful and winning a creature as the sun that + day shone on,—slender limbs, not too heavy flanks, round body, and + aristocratic head, with small ears, and luminous, intelligent, + affectionate eyes. How alert, supple, free, she was! What untaught grace + in every movement! What a charming pose when she lifted her head, and + turned it to regard her child! You would have had a companion picture if + you had seen, as I saw that morning, a baby kicking about among the dry + pine-needles on a ledge above the Au Sable, in the valley below, while its + young mother sat near, with an easel before her, touching in the color of + a reluctant landscape, giving a quick look at the sky and the outline of + the Twin Mountains, and bestowing every third glance upon the laughing + boy,—art in its infancy. + </p> + <p> + The doe lifted her head a little with a quick motion, and turned her ear + to the south. Had she heard something? Probably it was only the south wind + in the balsams. There was silence all about in the forest. If the doe had + heard anything, it was one of the distant noises of the world. There are + in the woods occasional moanings, premonitions of change, which are + inaudible to the dull ears of men, but which, I have no doubt, the + forest-folk hear and understand. If the doe's suspicions were excited for + an instant, they were gone as soon. With an affectionate glance at her + fawn, she continued picking up her breakfast. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly she started, head erect, eyes dilated, a tremor in her limbs. + She took a step; she turned her head to the south; she listened intently. + There was a sound,—a distant, prolonged note, bell-toned, pervading + the woods, shaking the air in smooth vibrations. It was repeated. The doe + had no doubt now. She shook like the sensitive mimosa when a footstep + approaches. It was the baying of a hound! It was far off,—at the + foot of the mountain. Time enough to fly; time enough to put miles between + her and the hound, before he should come upon her fresh trail; time enough + to escape away through the dense forest, and hide in the recesses of + Panther Gorge; yes, time enough. But there was the fawn. The cry of the + hound was repeated, more distinct this time. The mother instinctively + bounded away a few paces. The fawn started up with an anxious bleat: the + doe turned; she came back; she couldn't leave it. She bent over it, and + licked it, and seemed to say, “Come, my child: we are pursued: we must + go.” She walked away towards the west, and the little thing skipped after + her. It was slow going for the slender legs, over the fallen logs, and + through the rasping bushes. The doe bounded in advance, and waited: the + fawn scrambled after her, slipping and tumbling along, very groggy yet on + its legs, and whining a good deal because its mother kept always moving + away from it. The fawn evidently did not hear the hound: the little + innocent would even have looked sweetly at the dog, and tried to make + friends with it, if the brute had been rushing upon him. By all the means + at her command the doe urged her young one on; but it was slow work. She + might have been a mile away while they were making a few rods. Whenever + the fawn caught up, he was quite content to frisk about. He wanted more + breakfast, for one thing; and his mother wouldn't stand still. She moved + on continually; and his weak legs were tangled in the roots of the narrow + deer-path. + </p> + <p> + Shortly came a sound that threw the doe into a panic of terror,—a + short, sharp yelp, followed by a prolonged howl, caught up and reechoed by + other bayings along the mountain-side. The doe knew what that meant. One + hound had caught her trail, and the whole pack responded to the + “view-halloo.” The danger was certain now; it was near. She could not + crawl on in this way: the dogs would soon be upon them. She turned again + for flight: the fawn, scrambling after her, tumbled over, and bleated + piteously. The baying, emphasized now by the yelp of certainty, came + nearer. Flight with the fawn was impossible. The doe returned and stood by + it, head erect, and nostrils distended. She stood perfectly still, but + trembling. Perhaps she was thinking. The fawn took advantage of the + situation, and began to draw his luncheon ration. The doe seemed to have + made up her mind. She let him finish. The fawn, having taken all he + wanted, lay down contentedly, and the doe licked him for a moment. Then, + with the swiftness of a bird, she dashed away, and in a moment was lost in + the forest. She went in the direction of the hounds. + </p> + <p> + According to all human calculations, she was going into the jaws of death. + So she was: all human calculations are selfish. She kept straight on, + hearing the baying every moment more distinctly. She descended the slope + of the mountain until she reached the more open forest of hard-wood. It + was freer going here, and the cry of the pack echoed more resoundingly in + the great spaces. She was going due east, when (judging by the sound, the + hounds were not far off, though they were still hidden by a ridge) she + turned short away to the north, and kept on at a good pace. In five + minutes more she heard the sharp, exultant yelp of discovery, and then the + deep-mouthed howl of pursuit. The hounds had struck her trail where she + turned, and the fawn was safe. + </p> + <p> + The doe was in good running condition, the ground was not bad, and she + felt the exhilaration of the chase. For the moment, fear left her, and she + bounded on with the exaltation of triumph. For a quarter of an hour she + went on at a slapping pace, clearing the moose-bushes with bound after + bound, flying over the fallen logs, pausing neither for brook nor ravine. + The baying of the hounds grew fainter behind her. But she struck a bad + piece of going, a dead-wood slash. It was marvelous to see her skim over + it, leaping among its intricacies, and not breaking her slender legs. No + other living animal could do it. But it was killing work. She began to + pant fearfully; she lost ground. The baying of the hounds was nearer. She + climbed the hard-wood hill at a slower gait; but, once on more level, free + ground, her breath came back to her, and she stretched away with new + courage, and maybe a sort of contempt of her heavy pursuers. + </p> + <p> + After running at high speed perhaps half a mile farther, it occurred to + her that it would be safe now to turn to the west, and, by a wide circuit, + seek her fawn. But, at the moment, she heard a sound that chilled her + heart. It was the cry of a hound to the west of her. The crafty brute had + made the circuit of the slash, and cut off her retreat. There was nothing + to do but to keep on; and on she went, still to the north, with the noise + of the pack behind her. In five minutes more she had passed into a + hillside clearing. Cows and young steers were grazing there. She heard a + tinkle of bells. Below her, down the mountain slope, were other clearings, + broken by patches of woods. Fences intervened; and a mile or two down lay + the valley, the shining Au Sable, and the peaceful farmhouses. That way + also her hereditary enemies were. Not a merciful heart in all that lovely + valley. She hesitated: it was only for an instant. She must cross the + Slidebrook Valley if possible, and gain the mountain opposite. She bounded + on; she stopped. What was that? From the valley ahead came the cry of a + searching hound. All the devils were loose this morning. Every way was + closed but one, and that led straight down the mountain to the cluster of + houses. Conspicuous among them was a slender white wooden spire. The doe + did not know that it was the spire of a Christian chapel. But perhaps she + thought that human pity dwelt there, and would be more merciful than the + teeth of the hounds. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The hounds are baying on my track: + O white man! will you send me back?” + </pre> + <p> + In a panic, frightened animals will always flee to human-kind from the + danger of more savage foes. They always make a mistake in doing so. + Perhaps the trait is the survival of an era of peace on earth; perhaps it + is a prophecy of the golden age of the future. The business of this age is + murder,—the slaughter of animals, the slaughter of fellow-men, by + the wholesale. Hilarious poets who have never fired a gun write + hunting-songs,—Ti-ra-la: and good bishops write war-songs,—Ave + the Czar! + </p> + <p> + The hunted doe went down the “open,” clearing the fences splendidly, + flying along the stony path. It was a beautiful sight. But consider what a + shot it was! If the deer, now, could only have been caught I No doubt + there were tenderhearted people in the valley who would have spared her + life, shut her up in a stable, and petted her. Was there one who would + have let her go back to her waiting-fawn? It is the business of + civilization to tame or kill. + </p> + <p> + The doe went on. She left the sawmill on John's Brook to her right; she + turned into a wood-path. As she approached Slide Brook, she saw a boy + standing by a tree with a raised rifle. The dogs were not in sight; but + she could hear them coming down the hill. There was no time for + hesitation. With a tremendous burst of speed she cleared the stream, and, + as she touched the bank, heard the “ping” of a rifle bullet in the air + above her. The cruel sound gave wings to the poor thing. In a moment more + she was in the opening: she leaped into the traveled road. Which way? + Below her in the wood was a load of hay: a man and a boy, with pitchforks + in their hands, were running towards her. She turned south, and flew along + the street. The town was up. Women and children ran to the doors and + windows; men snatched their rifles; shots were fired; at the big + boarding-houses, the summer boarders, who never have anything to do, came + out and cheered; a campstool was thrown from a veranda. Some young fellows + shooting at a mark in the meadow saw the flying deer, and popped away at + her; but they were accustomed to a mark that stood still. It was all so + sudden! There were twenty people who were just going to shoot her; when + the doe leaped the road fence, and went away across a marsh toward the + foothills. It was a fearful gauntlet to run. But nobody except the deer + considered it in that light. Everybody told what he was just going to do; + everybody who had seen the performance was a kind of hero,—everybody + except the deer. For days and days it was the subject of conversation; and + the summer boarders kept their guns at hand, expecting another deer would + come to be shot at. + </p> + <p> + The doe went away to the foothills, going now slower, and evidently + fatigued, if not frightened half to death. Nothing is so appalling to a + recluse as half a mile of summer boarders. As the deer entered the thin + woods, she saw a rabble of people start across the meadow in pursuit. By + this time, the dogs, panting, and lolling out their tongues, came swinging + along, keeping the trail, like stupids, and consequently losing ground + when the deer doubled. But, when the doe had got into the timber, she + heard the savage brutes howling across the meadow. (It is well enough, + perhaps, to say that nobody offered to shoot the dogs.) + </p> + <p> + The courage of the panting fugitive was not gone: she was game to the tip + of her high-bred ears. But the fearful pace at which she had just been + going told on her. Her legs trembled, and her heart beat like a + trip-hammer. She slowed her speed perforce, but still fled industriously + up the right bank of the stream. When she had gone a couple of miles, and + the dogs were evidently gaining again, she crossed the broad, deep brook, + climbed the steep left bank, and fled on in the direction of the + Mount-Marcy trail. The fording of the river threw the hounds off for a + time. She knew, by their uncertain yelping up and down the opposite bank, + that she had a little respite: she used it, however, to push on until the + baying was faint in her ears; and then she dropped, exhausted, upon the + ground. + </p> + <p> + This rest, brief as it was, saved her life. Roused again by the baying + pack, she leaped forward with better speed, though without that keen + feeling of exhilarating flight that she had in the morning. It was still a + race for life; but the odds were in her—favor, she thought. She did + not appreciate the dogged persistence of the hounds, nor had any + inspiration told her that the race is not to the swift. + </p> + <p> + She was a little confused in her mind where to go; but an instinct kept + her course to the left, and consequently farther away from her fawn. Going + now slower, and now faster, as the pursuit seemed more distant or nearer, + she kept to the southwest, crossed the stream again, left Panther Gorge on + her right, and ran on by Haystack and Skylight in the direction of the + Upper Au Sable Pond. I do not know her exact course through this maze of + mountains, swamps, ravines, and frightful wildernesses. I only know that + the poor thing worked her way along painfully, with sinking heart and + unsteady limbs, lying down “dead beat” at intervals, and then spurred on + by the cry of the remorseless dogs, until, late in the afternoon, she + staggered down the shoulder of Bartlett, and stood upon the shore of the + lake. If she could put that piece of water between her and her pursuers, + she would be safe. Had she strength to swim it? + </p> + <p> + At her first step into the water she saw a sight that sent her back with a + bound. There was a boat mid-lake: two men were in it. One was rowing: the + other had a gun in his hand. They were looking towards her: they had seen + her. (She did not know that they had heard the baying of hounds on the + mountains, and had been lying in wait for her an hour.) What should she + do? The hounds were drawing near. No escape that way, even if she could + still run. With only a moment's hesitation she plunged into the lake, and + struck obliquely across. Her tired legs could not propel the tired body + rapidly. She saw the boat headed for her. She turned toward the centre of + the lake. The boat turned. She could hear the rattle of the oarlocks. It + was gaining on her. Then there was a silence. Then there was a splash of + the water just ahead of her, followed by a roar round the lake, the words + “Confound it all!” and a rattle of the oars again. The doe saw the boat + nearing her. She turned irresolutely to the shore whence she came: the + dogs were lapping the water, and howling there. She turned again to the + center of the lake. + </p> + <p> + The brave, pretty creature was quite exhausted now. In a moment more, with + a rush of water, the boat was on her, and the man at the oars had leaned + over and caught her by the tail. + </p> + <p> + “Knock her on the head with that paddle!” he shouted to the gentleman in + the stern. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman was a gentleman, with a kind, smooth-shaven face, and might + have been a minister of some sort of everlasting gospel. He took the + paddle in his hand. Just then the doe turned her head, and looked at him + with her great, appealing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do it! my soul, I can't do it!” and he dropped the paddle. “Oh, + let her go!” + </p> + <p> + “Let H. go!” was the only response of the guide as he slung the deer + round, whipped out his hunting-knife, and made a pass that severed her + jugular. + </p> + <p> + And the gentleman ate that night of the venison. + </p> + <p> + The buck returned about the middle of the afternoon. The fawn was bleating + piteously, hungry and lonesome. The buck was surprised. He looked about in + the forest. He took a circuit, and came back. His doe was nowhere to be + seen. He looked down at the fawn in a helpless sort of way. The fawn + appealed for his supper. The buck had nothing whatever to give his child,—nothing + but his sympathy. If he said anything, this is what he said: “I'm the head + of this family; but, really, this is a novel case. I've nothing whatever + for you. I don't know what to do. I've the feelings of a father; but you + can't live on them. Let us travel.” + </p> + <p> + The buck walked away: the little one toddled after him. They disappeared + in the forest. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. A CHARACTER STUDY + </h2> + <p> + There has been a lively inquiry after the primeval man. Wanted, a man who + would satisfy the conditions of the miocene environment, and yet would be + good enough for an ancestor. We are not particular about our ancestors, if + they are sufficiently remote; but we must have something. Failing to + apprehend the primeval man, science has sought the primitive man where he + exists as a survival in present savage races. He is, at best, only a + mushroom growth of the recent period (came in, probably, with the general + raft of mammalian fauna); but he possesses yet some rudimentary traits + that may be studied. + </p> + <p> + It is a good mental exercise to try to fix the mind on the primitive man + divested of all the attributes he has acquired in his struggles with the + other mammalian fauna. Fix the mind on an orange, the ordinary occupation + of the metaphysician: take from it (without eating it) odor, color, + weight, form, substance, and peel; then let the mind still dwell on it as + an orange. The experiment is perfectly successful; only, at the end of it, + you haven't any mind. Better still, consider the telephone: take away from + it the metallic disk, and the magnetized iron, and the connecting wire, + and then let the mind run abroad on the telephone. The mind won't come + back. I have tried by this sort of process to get a conception of the + primitive man. I let the mind roam away back over the vast geologic + spaces, and sometimes fancy I see a dim image of him stalking across the + terrace epoch of the quaternary period. + </p> + <p> + But this is an unsatisfying pleasure. The best results are obtained by + studying the primitive man as he is left here and there in our era, a + witness of what has been; and I find him most to my mind in the Adirondack + system of what geologists call the Champlain epoch. I suppose the + primitive man is one who owes more to nature than to the forces of + civilization. What we seek in him are the primal and original traits, + unmixed with the sophistications of society, and unimpaired by the + refinements of an artificial culture. He would retain the primitive + instincts, which are cultivated out of the ordinary, commonplace man. I + should expect to find him, by reason of an unrelinquished kinship, + enjoying a special communion with nature,—admitted to its mysteries, + understanding its moods, and able to predict its vagaries. He would be a + kind of test to us of what we have lost by our gregarious acquisitions. On + the one hand, there would be the sharpness of the senses, the keen + instincts (which the fox and the beaver still possess), the ability to + find one's way in the pathless forest, to follow a trail, to circumvent + the wild denizens of the woods; and, on the other hand, there would be the + philosophy of life which the primitive man, with little external aid, + would evolve from original observation and cogitation. It is our good + fortune to know such a man; but it is difficult to present him to a + scientific and caviling generation. He emigrated from somewhat limited + conditions in Vermont, at an early age, nearly half a century ago, and + sought freedom for his natural development backward in the wilds of the + Adirondacks. Sometimes it is a love of adventure and freedom that sends + men out of the more civilized conditions into the less; sometimes it is a + constitutional physical lassitude which leads them to prefer the rod to + the hoe, the trap to the sickle, and the society of bears to town meetings + and taxes. I think that Old Mountain Phelps had merely the instincts of + the primitive man, and never any hostile civilizing intent as to the + wilderness into which he plunged. Why should he want to slash away the + forest and plow up the ancient mould, when it is infinitely pleasanter to + roam about in the leafy solitudes, or sit upon a mossy log and listen to + the chatter of birds and the stir of beasts? Are there not trout in the + streams, gum exuding from the spruce, sugar in the maples, honey in the + hollow trees, fur on the sables, warmth in hickory logs? Will not a few + days' planting and scratching in the “open” yield potatoes and rye? And, + if there is steadier diet needed than venison and bear, is the pig an + expensive animal? If Old Phelps bowed to the prejudice or fashion of his + age (since we have come out of the tertiary state of things), and reared a + family, built a frame house in a secluded nook by a cold spring, planted + about it some apple trees and a rudimentary garden, and installed a group + of flaming sunflowers by the door, I am convinced that it was a concession + that did not touch his radical character; that is to say, it did not + impair his reluctance to split oven-wood. + </p> + <p> + He was a true citizen of the wilderness. Thoreau would have liked him, as + he liked Indians and woodchucks, and the smell of pine forests; and, if + Old Phelps had seen Thoreau, he would probably have said to him, “Why on + airth, Mr. Thoreau, don't you live accordin' to your preachin'?” You might + be misled by the shaggy suggestion of Old Phelps's given name—Orson—into + the notion that he was a mighty hunter, with the fierce spirit of the + Berserkers in his veins. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The + hirsute and grisly sound of Orson expresses only his entire affinity with + the untamed and the natural, an uncouth but gentle passion for the freedom + and wildness of the forest. Orson Phelps has only those unconventional and + humorous qualities of the bear which make the animal so beloved in + literature; and one does not think of Old Phelps so much as a lover of + nature,—to use the sentimental slang of the period,—as a part + of nature itself. + </p> + <p> + His appearance at the time when as a “guide” he began to come into public + notice fostered this impression,—a sturdy figure with long body and + short legs, clad in a woolen shirt and butternut-colored trousers repaired + to the point of picturesqueness, his head surmounted by a limp, + light-brown felt hat, frayed away at the top, so that his yellowish hair + grew out of it like some nameless fern out of a pot. His tawny hair was + long and tangled, matted now many years past the possibility of being + entered by a comb. + </p> + <p> + His features were small and delicate, and set in the frame of a reddish + beard, the razor having mowed away a clearing about the sensitive mouth, + which was not seldom wreathed with a childlike and charming smile. Out of + this hirsute environment looked the small gray eyes, set near together; + eyes keen to observe, and quick to express change of thought; eyes that + made you believe instinct can grow into philosophic judgment. His feet and + hands were of aristocratic smallness, although the latter were not worn + away by ablutions; in fact, they assisted his toilet to give you the + impression that here was a man who had just come out of the ground,—a + real son of the soil, whose appearance was partially explained by his + humorous relation to-soap. “Soap is a thing,” he said, “that I hain't no + kinder use for.” His clothes seemed to have been put on him once for all, + like the bark of a tree, a long time ago. The observant stranger was sure + to be puzzled by the contrast of this realistic and uncouth exterior with + the internal fineness, amounting to refinement and culture, that shone + through it all. What communion had supplied the place of our artificial + breeding to this man? + </p> + <p> + Perhaps his most characteristic attitude was sitting on a log, with a + short pipe in his mouth. If ever man was formed to sit on a log, it was + Old Phelps. He was essentially a contemplative person. Walking on a + country road, or anywhere in the “open,” was irksome to him. He had a + shambling, loose-jointed gait, not unlike that of the bear: his short legs + bowed out, as if they had been more in the habit of climbing trees than of + walking. On land, if we may use that expression, he was something like a + sailor; but, once in the rugged trail or the unmarked route of his native + forest, he was a different person, and few pedestrians could compete with + him. The vulgar estimate of his contemporaries, that reckoned Old Phelps + “lazy,” was simply a failure to comprehend the conditions of his being. It + is the unjustness of civilization that it sets up uniform and artificial + standards for all persons. The primitive man suffers by them much as the + contemplative philosopher does, when one happens to arrive in this busy, + fussy world. + </p> + <p> + If the appearance of Old Phelps attracts attention, his voice, when first + heard, invariably startles the listener. A small, high-pitched, + half-querulous voice, it easily rises into the shrillest falsetto; and it + has a quality in it that makes it audible in all the tempests of the + forest, or the roar of rapids, like the piping of a boatswain's whistle at + sea in a gale. He has a way of letting it rise as his sentence goes on, or + when he is opposed in argument, or wishes to mount above other voices in + the conversation, until it dominates everything. Heard in the depths of + the woods, quavering aloft, it is felt to be as much a part of nature, an + original force, as the northwest wind or the scream of the hen-hawk. When + he is pottering about the camp-fire, trying to light his pipe with a twig + held in the flame, he is apt to begin some philosophical observation in a + small, slow, stumbling voice, which seems about to end in defeat; when he + puts on some unsuspected force, and the sentence ends in an insistent + shriek. Horace Greeley had such a voice, and could regulate it in the same + manner. But Phelps's voice is not seldom plaintive, as if touched by the + dreamy sadness of the woods themselves. + </p> + <p> + When Old Mountain Phelps was discovered, he was, as the reader has already + guessed, not understood by his contemporaries. His neighbors, farmers in + the secluded valley, had many of them grown thrifty and prosperous, + cultivating the fertile meadows, and vigorously attacking the timbered + mountains; while Phelps, with not much more faculty of acquiring property + than the roaming deer, had pursued the even tenor of the life in the + forest on which he set out. They would have been surprised to be told that + Old Phelps owned more of what makes the value of the Adirondacks than all + of them put together, but it was true. This woodsman, this trapper, this + hunter, this fisherman, this sitter on a log, and philosopher, was the + real proprietor of the region over which he was ready to guide the + stranger. It is true that he had not a monopoly of its geography or its + topography (though his knowledge was superior in these respects); there + were other trappers, and more deadly hunters, and as intrepid guides: but + Old Phelps was the discoverer of the beauties and sublimities of the + mountains; and, when city strangers broke into the region, he monopolized + the appreciation of these delights and wonders of nature. I suppose that + in all that country he alone had noticed the sunsets, and observed the + delightful processes of the seasons, taken pleasure in the woods for + themselves, and climbed mountains solely for the sake of the prospect. He + alone understood what was meant by “scenery.” In the eyes of his + neighbors, who did not know that he was a poet and a philosopher, I dare + say he appeared to be a slack provider, a rather shiftless trapper and + fisherman; and his passionate love of the forest and the mountains, if it + was noticed, was accounted to him for idleness. When the appreciative + tourist arrived, Phelps was ready, as guide, to open to him all the + wonders of his possessions; he, for the first time, found an outlet for + his enthusiasm, and a response to his own passion. It then became known + what manner of man this was who had grown up here in the companionship of + forests, mountains, and wild animals; that these scenes had highly + developed in him the love of beauty, the aesthetic sense, delicacy of + appreciation, refinement of feeling; and that, in his solitary wanderings + and musings, the primitive man, self-taught, had evolved for himself a + philosophy and a system of things. And it was a sufficient system, so long + as it was not disturbed by external skepticism. When the outer world came + to him, perhaps he had about as much to give to it as to receive from it; + probably more, in his own estimation; for there is no conceit like that of + isolation. + </p> + <p> + Phelps loved his mountains. He was the discoverer of Marcy, and caused the + first trail to be cut to its summit, so that others could enjoy the noble + views from its round and rocky top. To him it was, in noble symmetry and + beauty, the chief mountain of the globe. To stand on it gave him, as he + said, “a feeling of heaven up-h'istedness.” He heard with impatience that + Mount Washington was a thousand feet higher, and he had a childlike + incredulity about the surpassing sublimity of the Alps. Praise of any + other elevation he seemed to consider a slight to Mount Marcy, and did not + willingly hear it, any more than a lover hears the laudation of the beauty + of another woman than the one he loves. When he showed us scenery he + loved, it made him melancholy to have us speak of scenery elsewhere that + was finer. And yet there was this delicacy about him, that he never + over-praised what he brought us to see, any more than one would + over-praise a friend of whom he was fond. I remember that when for the + first time, after a toilsome journey through the forest, the splendors of + the Lower Au Sable Pond broke upon our vision,—that low-lying silver + lake, imprisoned by the precipices which it reflected in its bosom,—he + made no outward response to our burst of admiration: only a quiet gleam of + the eye showed the pleasure our appreciation gave him. As some one said, + it was as if his friend had been admired—a friend about whom he was + unwilling to say much himself, but well pleased to have others praise. + </p> + <p> + Thus far, we have considered Old Phelps as simply the product of the + Adirondacks; not so much a self-made man (as the doubtful phrase has it) + as a natural growth amid primal forces. But our study is interrupted by + another influence, which complicates the problem, but increases its + interest. No scientific observer, so far as we know, has ever been able to + watch the development of the primitive man, played upon and fashioned by + the hebdomadal iteration of “Greeley's Weekly Tri-bune.” Old Phelps + educated by the woods is a fascinating study; educated by the woods and + the Tri-bune, he is a phenomenon. No one at this day can reasonably + conceive exactly what this newspaper was to such a mountain valley as + Keene. If it was not a Providence, it was a Bible. It was no doubt owing + to it that Democrats became as scarce as moose in the Adirondacks. But it + is not of its political aspect that I speak. I suppose that the most + cultivated and best informed portion of the earth's surface—the + Western Reserve of Ohio, as free from conceit as it is from a suspicion + that it lacks anything owes its pre-eminence solely to this comprehensive + journal. It received from it everything except a collegiate and a + classical education,—things not to be desired, since they interfere + with the self-manufacture of man. If Greek had been in this curriculum, + its best known dictum would have been translated, “Make thyself.” This + journal carried to the community that fed on it not only a complete + education in all departments of human practice and theorizing, but the + more valuable and satisfying assurance that there was nothing more to be + gleaned in the universe worth the attention of man. This panoplied its + readers in completeness. Politics, literature, arts, sciences, universal + brotherhood and sisterhood, nothing was omitted; neither the poetry of + Tennyson, nor the philosophy of Margaret Fuller; neither the virtues of + association, nor of unbolted wheat. The laws of political economy and + trade were laid down as positively and clearly as the best way to bake + beans, and the saving truth that the millennium would come, and come only + when every foot of the earth was subsoiled. + </p> + <p> + I do not say that Orson Phelps was the product of nature and the Tri-bune: + but he cannot be explained without considering these two factors. To him + Greeley was the Tri-bune, and the Tri-bune was Greeley; and yet I think he + conceived of Horace Greeley as something greater than his newspaper, and + perhaps capable of producing another journal equal to it in another part + of the universe. At any rate, so completely did Phelps absorb this paper + and this personality that he was popularly known as “Greeley” in the + region where he lived. Perhaps a fancied resemblance of the two men in the + popular mind had something to do with this transfer of name. There is no + doubt that Horace Greeley owed his vast influence in the country to his + genius, nor much doubt that he owed his popularity in the rural districts + to James Gordon Bennett; that is, to the personality of the man which the + ingenious Bennett impressed upon the country. That he despised the + conventionalities of society, and was a sloven in his toilet, was firmly + believed; and the belief endeared him to the hearts of the people. To them + “the old white coat”—an antique garment of unrenewed immortality—was + as much a subject of idolatry as the redingote grise to the soldiers of + the first Napoleon, who had seen it by the campfires on the Po and on the + Borysthenes, and believed that he would come again in it to lead them + against the enemies of France. The Greeley of the popular heart was clad + as Bennett said he was clad. It was in vain, even pathetically in vain, + that he published in his newspaper the full bill of his fashionable tailor + (the fact that it was receipted may have excited the animosity of some of + his contemporaries) to show that he wore the best broadcloth, and that the + folds of his trousers followed the city fashion of falling outside his + boots. If this revelation was believed, it made no sort of impression in + the country. The rural readers were not to be wheedled out of their + cherished conception of the personal appearance of the philosopher of the + Tri-bune. + </p> + <p> + That the Tri-bune taught Old Phelps to be more Phelps than he would have + been without it was part of the independence-teaching mission of Greeley's + paper. The subscribers were an army, in which every man was a general. And + I am not surprised to find Old Phelps lately rising to the audacity of + criticising his exemplar. In some recently-published observations by + Phelps upon the philosophy of reading is laid down this definition: “If I + understand the necessity or use of reading, it is to reproduce again what + has been said or proclaimed before. Hence, letters, characters, &c., + are arranged in all the perfection they possibly can be, to show how + certain language has been spoken by the original author. Now, to reproduce + by reading, the reading should be so perfectly like the original that no + one standing out of sight could tell the reading from the first time the + language was spoken.” + </p> + <p> + This is illustrated by the highest authority at hand: I have heard as good + readers read, and as poor readers, as almost any one in this region. If I + have not heard as many, I have had a chance to hear nearly the extreme in + variety. Horace Greeley ought to have been a good reader. Certainly but + few, if any, ever knew every word of the English language at a glance more + readily than he did, or knew the meaning of every mark of punctuation more + clearly; but he could not read proper. 'But how do you know?' says one. + From the fact I heard him in the same lecture deliver or produce remarks + in his own particular way, that, if they had been published properly in + print, a proper reader would have reproduced them again the same way. In + the midst of those remarks Mr. Greeley took up a paper, to reproduce by + reading part of a speech that some one else had made; and his reading did + not sound much more like the man that first read or made the speech than + the clatter of a nail factory sounds like a well-delivered speech. Now, + the fault was not because Mr. Greeley did not know how to read as well as + almost any man that ever lived, if not quite: but in his youth he learned + to read wrong; and, as it is ten times harder to unlearn anything than it + is to learn it, he, like thousands of others, could never stop to unlearn + it, but carried it on through his whole life. + </p> + <p> + Whether a reader would be thanked for reproducing one of Horace Greeley's + lectures as he delivered it is a question that cannot detain us here; but + the teaching that he ought to do so, I think, would please Mr. Greeley. + </p> + <p> + The first driblets of professional tourists and summer boarders who + arrived among the Adirondack Mountains a few years ago found Old Phelps + the chief and best guide of the region. Those who were eager to throw off + the usages of civilization, and tramp and camp in the wilderness, could + not but be well satisfied with the aboriginal appearance of this guide; + and when he led off into the woods, axe in hand, and a huge canvas sack + upon his shoulders, they seemed to be following the Wandering Jew. The + contents—of this sack would have furnished a modern industrial + exhibition, provisions cooked and raw, blankets, maple-sugar, tinware, + clothing, pork, Indian meal, flour, coffee, tea, &c. Phelps was the + ideal guide: he knew every foot of the pathless forest; he knew all + woodcraft, all the signs of the weather, or, what is the same thing, how + to make a Delphic prediction about it. He was fisherman and hunter, and + had been the comrade of sportsmen and explorers; and his enthusiasm for + the beauty and sublimity of the region, and for its untamable wildness, + amounted to a passion. He loved his profession; and yet it very soon + appeared that he exercised it with reluctance for those who had neither + ideality, nor love for the woods. Their presence was a profanation amid + the scenery he loved. To guide into his private and secret haunts a party + that had no appreciation of their loveliness disgusted him. It was a waste + of his time to conduct flippant young men and giddy girls who made a noisy + and irreverent lark of the expedition. And, for their part, they did not + appreciate the benefit of being accompanied by a poet and a philosopher. + They neither understood nor valued his special knowledge and his shrewd + observations: they didn't even like his shrill voice; his quaint talk + bored them. It was true that, at this period, Phelps had lost something of + the activity of his youth; and the habit of contemplative sitting on a log + and talking increased with the infirmities induced by the hard life of the + woodsman. Perhaps he would rather talk, either about the woods-life or the + various problems of existence, than cut wood, or busy himself in the + drudgery of the camp. His critics went so far as to say, “Old Phelps is a + fraud.” They would have said the same of Socrates. Xantippe, who never + appreciated the world in which Socrates lived, thought he was lazy. + Probably Socrates could cook no better than Old Phelps, and no doubt went + “gumming” about Athens with very little care of what was in the pot for + dinner. + </p> + <p> + If the summer visitors measured Old Phelps, he also measured them by his + own standards. He used to write out what he called “short-faced + descriptions” of his comrades in the woods, which were never so flattering + as true. It was curious to see how the various qualities which are + esteemed in society appeared in his eyes, looked at merely in their + relation to the limited world he knew, and judged by their adaptation to + the primitive life. It was a much subtler comparison than that of the + ordinary guide, who rates his traveler by his ability to endure on a + march, to carry a pack, use an oar, hit a mark, or sing a song. Phelps + brought his people to a test of their naturalness and sincerity, tried by + contact with the verities of the woods. If a person failed to appreciate + the woods, Phelps had no opinion of him or his culture; and yet, although + he was perfectly satisfied with his own philosophy of life, worked out by + close observation of nature and study of the Tri-bune, he was always eager + for converse with superior minds, with those who had the advantage of + travel and much reading, and, above all, with those who had any original + “speckerlation.” Of all the society he was ever permitted to enjoy, I + think he prized most that of Dr. Bushnell. The doctor enjoyed the quaint + and first-hand observations of the old woodsman, and Phelps found new + worlds open to him in the wide ranges of the doctor's mind. They talked by + the hour upon all sorts of themes, the growth of the tree, the habits of + wild animals, the migration of seeds, the succession of oak and pine, not + to mention theology, and the mysteries of the supernatural. + </p> + <p> + I recall the bearing of Old Phelps, when, several years ago, he conducted + a party to the summit of Mount Marcy by the way he had “bushed out.” This + was his mountain, and he had a peculiar sense of ownership in it. In a + way, it was holy ground; and he would rather no one should go on it who + did not feel its sanctity. Perhaps it was a sense of some divine relation + in it that made him always speak of it as “Mercy.” To him this + ridiculously dubbed Mount Marcy was always “Mount Mercy.” By a like effort + to soften the personal offensiveness of the nomenclature of this region, + he invariably spoke of Dix's Peak, one of the southern peaks of the range, + as “Dixie.” It was some time since Phelps himself had visited his + mountain; and, as he pushed on through the miles of forest, we noticed a + kind of eagerness in the old man, as of a lover going to a rendezvous. + Along the foot of the mountain flows a clear trout stream, secluded and + undisturbed in those awful solitudes, which is the “Mercy Brook” of the + old woodsman. That day when he crossed it, in advance of his company, he + was heard to say in a low voice, as if greeting some object of which he + was shyly fond, “So, little brook, do I meet you once more?” and when we + were well up the mountain, and emerged from the last stunted fringe of + vegetation upon the rock-bound slope, I saw Old Phelps, who was still + foremost, cast himself upon the ground, and heard him cry, with an + enthusiasm that was intended for no mortal ear, “I'm with you once again!” + His great passion very rarely found expression in any such theatrical + burst. The bare summit that day was swept by a fierce, cold wind, and lost + in an occasional chilling cloud. Some of the party, exhausted by the + climb, and shivering in the rude wind, wanted a fire kindled and a cup of + tea made, and thought this the guide's business. Fire and tea were far + enough from his thought. He had withdrawn himself quite apart, and wrapped + in a ragged blanket, still and silent as the rock he stood on, was gazing + out upon the wilderness of peaks. The view from Marcy is peculiar. It is + without softness or relief. The narrow valleys are only dark shadows; the + lakes are bits of broken mirror. From horizon to horizon there is a + tumultuous sea of billows turned to stone. You stand upon the highest + billow; you command the situation; you have surprised Nature in a high + creative act; the mighty primal energy has only just become repose. This + was a supreme hour to Old Phelps. Tea! I believe the boys succeeded in + kindling a fire; but the enthusiastic stoic had no reason to complain of + want of appreciation in the rest of the party. When we were descending, he + told us, with mingled humor and scorn, of a party of ladies he once led to + the top of the mountain on a still day, who began immediately to talk + about the fashions! As he related the scene, stopping and facing us in the + trail, his mild, far-in eyes came to the front, and his voice rose with + his language to a kind of scream. + </p> + <p> + “Why, there they were, right before the greatest view they ever saw, + talkin' about the fashions!” + </p> + <p> + Impossible to convey the accent of contempt in which he pronounced the + word “fashions,” and then added, with a sort of regretful bitterness, “I + was a great mind to come down, and leave 'em there.” + </p> + <p> + In common with the Greeks, Old Phelps personified the woods, mountains, + and streams. They had not only personality, but distinctions of sex. It + was something beyond the characterization of the hunter, which appeared, + for instance, when he related a fight with a panther, in such expressions + as, “Then Mr. Panther thought he would see what he could do,” etc. He was + in “imaginative sympathy” with all wild things. The afternoon we descended + Marcy, we went away to the west, through the primeval forests, toward + Avalanche and Colden, and followed the course of the charming Opalescent. + When we reached the leaping stream, Phelps exclaimed, + </p> + <p> + “Here's little Miss Opalescent!” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you say Mr. Opalescent?” some one asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she's too pretty!” And too pretty she was, with her foam-white and + rainbow dress, and her downfalls, and fountainlike uprising. A bewitching + young person we found her all that summer afternoon. + </p> + <p> + This sylph-like person had little in common with a monstrous lady whose + adventures in the wilderness Phelps was fond of relating. She was built + some thing on the plan of the mountains, and her ambition to explore was + equal to her size. Phelps and the other guides once succeeded in raising + her to the top of Marcy; but the feat of getting a hogshead of molasses up + there would have been easier. In attempting to give us an idea of her + magnitude that night, as we sat in the forest camp, Phelps hesitated a + moment, while he cast his eye around the woods: “Waal, there ain't no + tree!” + </p> + <p> + It is only by recalling fragmentary remarks and incidents that I can put + the reader in possession of the peculiarities of my subject; and this + involves the wrenching of things out of their natural order and + continuity, and introducing them abruptly, an abruptness illustrated by + the remark of “Old Man Hoskins” (which Phelps liked to quote), when one + day he suddenly slipped down a bank into a thicket, and seated himself in + a wasps' nest: “I hain't no business here; but here I be!” + </p> + <p> + The first time we went into camp on the Upper Au Sable Pond, which has + been justly celebrated as the most prettily set sheet of water in the + region, we were disposed to build our shanty on the south side, so that we + could have in full view the Gothics and that loveliest of mountain + contours. To our surprise, Old Phelps, whose sentimental weakness for + these mountains we knew, opposed this. His favorite camping ground was on + the north side,—a pretty site in itself, but with no special view. + In order to enjoy the lovely mountains, we should be obliged to row out + into the lake: we wanted them always before our eyes,—at sunrise and + sunset, and in the blaze of noon. With deliberate speech, as if weighing + our arguments and disposing of them, he replied, “Waal, now, them Gothics + ain't the kinder scenery you want ter hog down!” + </p> + <p> + It was on quiet Sundays in the woods, or in talks by the camp-fire, that + Phelps came out as the philosopher, and commonly contributed the light of + his observations. Unfortunate marriages, and marriages in general, were, + on one occasion, the subject of discussion; and a good deal of darkness + had been cast on it by various speakers; when Phelps suddenly piped up, + from a log where he had sat silent, almost invisible, in the shadow and + smoke, “Waal, now, when you've said all there is to be said, marriage is + mostly for discipline.” + </p> + <p> + Discipline, certainly, the old man had, in one way or another; and years + of solitary communing in the forest had given him, perhaps, a childlike + insight into spiritual concerns. Whether he had formulated any creed or + what faith he had, I never knew. Keene Valley had a reputation of not + ripening Christians any more successfully than maize, the season there + being short; and on our first visit it was said to contain but one Bible + Christian, though I think an accurate census disclosed three. Old Phelps, + who sometimes made abrupt remarks in trying situations, was not included + in this census; but he was the disciple of supernaturalism in a most + charming form. I have heard of his opening his inmost thoughts to a lady, + one Sunday, after a noble sermon of Robertson's had been read in the + cathedral stillness of the forest. His experience was entirely first-hand, + and related with unconsciousness that it was not common to all. There was + nothing of the mystic or the sentimentalist, only a vivid realism, in that + nearness of God of which he spoke,—“as near some-times as those + trees,”—and of the holy voice, that, in a time of inward struggle, + had seemed to him to come from the depths of the forest, saying, “Poor + soul, I am the way.” + </p> + <p> + In later years there was a “revival” in Keene Valley, the result of which + was a number of young “converts,” whom Phelps seemed to regard as a + veteran might raw recruits, and to have his doubts what sort of soldiers + they would make. + </p> + <p> + “Waal, Jimmy,” he said to one of them, “you've kindled a pretty good fire + with light wood. That's what we do of a dark night in the woods, you know + but we do it just so as we can look around and find the solid wood: so now + put on your solid wood.” + </p> + <p> + In the Sunday Bible classes of the period Phelps was a perpetual anxiety + to the others, who followed closely the printed lessons, and beheld with + alarm his discursive efforts to get into freer air and light. His remarks + were the most refreshing part of the exercises, but were outside of the + safe path into which the others thought it necessary to win him from his + “speckerlations.” The class were one day on the verses concerning “God's + word” being “written on the heart,” and were keeping close to the shore, + under the guidance of “Barnes's Notes,” when Old Phelps made a dive to the + bottom, and remarked that he had “thought a good deal about the + expression, 'God's word written on the heart,' and had been asking himself + how that was to be done; and suddenly it occurred to him (having been much + interested lately in watching the work of a photographer) that, when a + photograph is going to be taken, all that has to be done is to put the + object in position, and the sun makes the picture; and so he rather + thought that all we had got to do was to put our hearts in place, and God + would do the writin'.” + </p> + <p> + Phelps's theology, like his science, is first-hand. In the woods, one day, + talk ran on the Trinity as being nowhere asserted as a doctrine in the + Bible, and some one suggested that the attempt to pack these great and + fluent mysteries into one word must always be more or less unsatisfactory. + “Ye-es,” droned Phelps: “I never could see much speckerlation in that + expression the Trinity. Why, they'd a good deal better say Legion.” + </p> + <p> + The sentiment of the man about nature, or his poetic sensibility, was + frequently not to be distinguished from a natural religion, and was always + tinged with the devoutness of Wordsworth's verse. Climbing slowly one day + up the Balcony,—he was more than usually calm and slow,—he + espied an exquisite fragile flower in the crevice of a rock, in a very + lonely spot. + </p> + <p> + “It seems as if,” he said, or rather dreamed out, “it seems as if the + Creator had kept something just to look at himself.” + </p> + <p> + To a lady whom he had taken to Chapel Pond (a retired but rather + uninteresting spot), and who expressed a little disappointment at its + tameness, saying, of this “Why, Mr. Phelps, the principal charm of this + place seems to be its loneliness.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied in gentle and lingering tones, and its nativeness. “It + lies here just where it was born.” + </p> + <p> + Rest and quiet had infinite attractions for him. A secluded opening in the + woods was a “calm spot.” He told of seeing once, or rather being in, a + circular rainbow. He stood on Indian Head, overlooking the Lower Lake, so + that he saw the whole bow in the sky and the lake, and seemed to be in the + midst of it; “only at one place there was an indentation in it, where it + rested on the lake, just enough to keep it from rolling off.” This + “resting” of the sphere seemed to give him great comfort. + </p> + <p> + One Indian-summer morning in October, some ladies found the old man + sitting on his doorstep smoking a short pipe. + </p> + <p> + He gave no sign of recognition except a twinkle of the eye, being + evidently quite in harmony with the peaceful day. They stood there a full + minute before he opened his mouth: then he did not rise, but slowly took + his pipe from his mouth, and said in a dreamy way, pointing towards the + brook,— + </p> + <p> + “Do you see that tree?” indicating a maple almost denuded of leaves, which + lay like a yellow garment cast at its feet. “I've been watching that tree + all the morning. There hain't been a breath of wind: but for hours the + leaves have been falling, falling, just as you see them now; and at last + it's pretty much bare.” And after a pause, pensively: “Waal, I suppose its + hour had come.” + </p> + <p> + This contemplative habit of Old Phelps is wholly unappreciated by his + neighbors; but it has been indulged in no inconsiderable part of his life. + Rising after a time, he said, “Now I want you to go with me and see my + golden city I've talked so much about.” He led the way to a hill-outlook, + when suddenly, emerging from the forest, the spectators saw revealed the + winding valley and its stream. He said quietly, “There is my golden city.” + Far below, at their feet, they saw that vast assemblage of birches and + “popples,” yellow as gold in the brooding noonday, and slender spires + rising out of the glowing mass. Without another word, Phelps sat a long + time in silent content: it was to him, as Bunyan says, “a place desirous + to be in.” + </p> + <p> + Is this philosopher contented with what life has brought him? Speaking of + money one day, when we had asked him if he should do differently if he had + his life to live over again, he said, “Yes, but not about money. To have + had hours such as I have had in these mountains, and with such men as Dr. + Bushnell and Dr. Shaw and Mr. Twichell, and others I could name, is worth + all the money the world could give.” He read character very well, and took + in accurately the boy nature. “Tom” (an irrepressible, rather overdone + specimen),—“Tom's a nice kind of a boy; but he's got to come up + against a snubbin'-post one of these days.”—“Boys!” he once said: + “you can't git boys to take any kinder notice of scenery. I never yet saw + a boy that would look a second time at a sunset. Now, a girl will some + times; but even then it's instantaneous,—comes an goes like the + sunset. As for me,” still speaking of scenery, “these mountains about + here, that I see every day, are no more to me, in one sense, than a man's + farm is to him. What mostly interests me now is when I see some new freak + or shape in the face of Nature.” + </p> + <p> + In literature it may be said that Old Phelps prefers the best in the very + limited range that has been open to him. Tennyson is his favorite among + poets an affinity explained by the fact that they are both lotos-eaters. + Speaking of a lecture-room talk of Mr. Beecher's which he had read, he + said, “It filled my cup about as full as I callerlate to have it: there + was a good deal of truth in it, and some poetry; waal, and a little spice, + too. We've got to have the spice, you know.” He admired, for different + reasons, a lecture by Greeley that he once heard, into which so much + knowledge of various kinds was crowded that he said he “made a reg'lar + gobble of it.” He was not without discrimination, which he exercised upon + the local preaching when nothing better offered. Of one sermon he said, + “The man began way back at the creation, and just preached right along + down; and he didn't say nothing, after all. It just seemed to me as if he + was tryin' to git up a kind of a fix-up.” + </p> + <p> + Old Phelps used words sometimes like algebraic signs, and had a habit of + making one do duty for a season together for all occasions. + “Speckerlation” and “callerlation” and “fix-up” are specimens of words + that were prolific in expression. An unusual expression, or an unusual + article, would be charactcrized as a “kind of a scientific literary + git-up.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the program for tomorrow?” I once asked him. “Waal, I callerlate, + if they rig up the callerlation they callerlate on, we'll go to the + Boreas.” Starting out for a day's tramp in the woods, he would ask whether + we wanted to take a “reg'lar walk, or a random scoot,”—the latter + being a plunge into the pathless forest. When he was on such an + expedition, and became entangled in dense brush, and maybe a network of + “slash” and swamp, he was like an old wizard, as he looked here and there, + seeking a way, peering into the tangle, or withdrawing from a thicket, and + muttering to himself, “There ain't no speckerlation there.” And when the + way became altogether inscrutable,—“Waal, this is a reg'lar random + scoot of a rigmarole.” As some one remarked, “The dictionary in his hands + is like clay in the hands of the potter.” “A petrifaction was a kind of a + hard-wood chemical git-up.” + </p> + <p> + There is no conceit, we are apt to say, like that born of isolation from + the world, and there are no such conceited people as those who have lived + all their lives in the woods. Phelps was, however, unsophisticated in his + until the advent of strangers into his life, who brought in literature and + various other disturbing influences. I am sorry to say that the effect has + been to take off something of the bloom of his simplicity, and to elevate + him into an oracle. I suppose this is inevitable as soon as one goes into + print; and Phelps has gone into print in the local papers. He has been + bitten with the literary “git up.” Justly regarding most of the Adirondack + literature as a “perfect fizzle,” he has himself projected a work, and + written much on the natural history of his region. Long ago he made a + large map of the mountain country; and, until recent surveys, it was the + only one that could lay any claim to accuracy. His history is no doubt + original in form, and unconventional in expression. Like most of the + writers of the seventeenth century, and the court ladies and gentlemen of + the eighteenth century, he is an independent speller. Writing of his work + on the Adirondacks, he says, “If I should ever live to get this wonderful + thing written, I expect it will show one thing, if no more; and that is, + that every thing has an opposite. I expect to show in this that literature + has an opposite, if I do not show any thing els. We could not enjoy the + blessings and happiness of riteousness if we did not know innicuty was in + the world: in fact, there would be no riteousness without innicuty.” + Writing also of his great enjoyment of being in the woods, especially + since he has had the society there of some people he names, he adds, “And + since I have Literature, Siance, and Art all spread about on the green + moss of the mountain woods or the gravell banks of a cristle stream, it + seems like finding roses, honeysuckels, and violets on a crisp brown cliff + in December. You know I don't believe much in the religion of seramony; + but any riteous thing that has life and spirit in it is food for me.” I + must not neglect to mention an essay, continued in several numbers of his + local paper, on “The Growth of the Tree,” in which he demolishes the + theory of Mr. Greeley, whom he calls “one of the best vegetable + philosophers,” about “growth without seed.” He treats of the office of + sap: “All trees have some kind of sap and some kind of operation of sap + flowing in their season,” the dissemination of seeds, the processes of + growth, the power of healing wounds, the proportion of roots to branches, + &c. Speaking of the latter, he says, “I have thought it would be one + of the greatest curiosities on earth to see a thrifty growing maple or + elm, that had grown on a deep soil interval to be two feet in diameter, to + be raised clear into the air with every root and fibre down to the + minutest thread, all entirely cleared of soil, so that every particle + could be seen in its natural position. I think it would astonish even the + wise ones.” From his instinctive sympathy with nature, he often credits + vegetable organism with “instinctive judgment.” “Observation teaches us + that a tree is given powerful instincts, which would almost appear to + amount to judgment in some cases, to provide for its own wants and + necessities.” + </p> + <p> + Here our study must cease. When the primitive man comes into literature, + he is no longer primitive. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. CAMPING OUT + </h2> + <p> + It seems to be agreed that civilization is kept up only by a constant + effort: Nature claims its own speedily when the effort is relaxed. If you + clear a patch of fertile ground in the forest, uproot the stumps, and + plant it, year after year, in potatoes and maize, you say you have subdued + it. But, if you leave it for a season or two, a kind of barbarism seems to + steal out upon it from the circling woods; coarse grass and brambles cover + it; bushes spring up in a wild tangle; the raspberry and the blackberry + flower and fruit; and the humorous bear feeds upon them. The last state of + that ground is worse than the first. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the cleared spot is called Ephesus. There is a splendid city on + the plain; there are temples and theatres on the hills; the commerce of + the world seeks its port; the luxury of the Orient flows through its + marble streets. You are there one day when the sea has receded: the plain + is a pestilent marsh; the temples, the theatres, the lofty gates have + sunken and crumbled, and the wild-brier runs over them; and, as you grow + pensive in the most desolate place in the world, a bandit lounges out of a + tomb, and offers to relieve you of all that which creates artificial + distinctions in society. The higher the civilization has risen, the more + abject is the desolation of barbarism that ensues. The most melancholy + spot in the Adirondacks is not a tamarack-swamp, where the traveler wades + in moss and mire, and the atmosphere is composed of equal active parts of + black-flies, mosquitoes, and midges. It is the village of the Adirondack + Iron-Works, where the streets of gaunt houses are falling to pieces, + tenantless; the factory-wheels have stopped; the furnaces are in ruins; + the iron and wooden machinery is strewn about in helpless detachment; and + heaps of charcoal, ore, and slag proclaim an arrested industry. Beside + this deserted village, even Calamity Pond, shallow, sedgy, with its ragged + shores of stunted firs, and its melancholy shaft that marks the spot where + the proprietor of the iron-works accidentally shot himself, is cheerful. + </p> + <p> + The instinct of barbarism that leads people periodically to throw aside + the habits of civilization, and seek the freedom and discomfort of the + woods, is explicable enough; but it is not so easy to understand why this + passion should be strongest in those who are most refined, and most + trained in intellectual and social fastidiousness. Philistinism and shoddy + do not like the woods, unless it becomes fashionable to do so; and then, + as speedily as possible, they introduce their artificial luxuries, and + reduce the life in the wilderness to the vulgarity of a well-fed picnic. + It is they who have strewn the Adirondacks with paper collars and tin + cans. The real enjoyment of camping and tramping in the woods lies in a + return to primitive conditions of lodging, dress, and food, in as total an + escape as may be from the requirements of civilization. And it remains to + be explained why this is enjoyed most by those who are most highly + civilized. It is wonderful to see how easily the restraints of society + fall off. Of course it is not true that courtesy depends upon clothes with + the best people; but, with others, behavior hangs almost entirely upon + dress. Many good habits are easily got rid of in the woods. Doubt + sometimes seems to be felt whether Sunday is a legal holiday there. It + becomes a question of casuistry with a clergyman whether he may shoot at a + mark on Sunday, if none of his congregation are present. He intends no + harm: he only gratifies a curiosity to see if he can hit the mark. Where + shall he draw the line? Doubtless he might throw a stone at a chipmunk, or + shout at a loon. Might he fire at a mark with an air-gun that makes no + noise? He will not fish or hunt on Sunday (although he is no more likely + to catch anything that day than on any other); but may he eat trout that + the guide has caught on Sunday, if the guide swears he caught them + Saturday night? Is there such a thing as a vacation in religion? How much + of our virtue do we owe to inherited habits? + </p> + <p> + I am not at all sure whether this desire to camp outside of civilization + is creditable to human nature, or otherwise. We hear sometimes that the + Turk has been merely camping for four centuries in Europe. I suspect that + many of us are, after all, really camping temporarily in civilized + conditions; and that going into the wilderness is an escape, longed for, + into our natural and preferred state. Consider what this “camping out” is, + that is confessedly so agreeable to people most delicately reared. I have + no desire to exaggerate its delights. + </p> + <p> + The Adirondack wilderness is essentially unbroken. A few bad roads that + penetrate it, a few jolting wagons that traverse them, a few barn-like + boarding-houses on the edge of the forest, where the boarders are soothed + by patent coffee, and stimulated to unnatural gayety by Japan tea, and + experimented on by unique cookery, do little to destroy the savage + fascination of the region. In half an hour, at any point, one can put + himself into solitude and every desirable discomfort. The party that + covets the experience of the camp comes down to primitive conditions of + dress and equipment. There are guides and porters to carry the blankets + for beds, the raw provisions, and the camp equipage; and the motley party + of the temporarily decivilized files into the woods, and begins, perhaps + by a road, perhaps on a trail, its exhilarating and weary march. The + exhilaration arises partly from the casting aside of restraint, partly + from the adventure of exploration; and the weariness, from the + interminable toil of bad walking, a heavy pack, and the grim monotony of + trees and bushes, that shut out all prospect, except an occasional glimpse + of the sky. Mountains are painfully climbed, streams forded, lonesome + lakes paddled over, long and muddy “carries” traversed. Fancy this party + the victim of political exile, banished by the law, and a more sorrowful + march could not be imagined; but the voluntary hardship becomes pleasure, + and it is undeniable that the spirits of the party rise as the + difficulties increase. + </p> + <p> + For this straggling and stumbling band the world is young again: it has + come to the beginning of things; it has cut loose from tradition, and is + free to make a home anywhere: the movement has all the promise of a + revolution. All this virginal freshness invites the primitive instincts of + play and disorder. The free range of the forests suggests endless + possibilities of exploration and possession. Perhaps we are treading where + man since the creation never trod before; perhaps the waters of this + bubbling spring, which we deepen by scraping out the decayed leaves and + the black earth, have never been tasted before, except by the wild + denizens of these woods. We cross the trails of lurking animals,—paths + that heighten our sense of seclusion from the world. The hammering of the + infrequent woodpecker, the call of the lonely bird, the drumming of the + solitary partridge,—all these sounds do but emphasize the + lonesomeness of nature. The roar of the mountain brook, dashing over its + bed of pebbles, rising out of the ravine, and spreading, as it were, a + mist of sound through all the forest (continuous beating waves that have + the rhythm of eternity in them), and the fitful movement of the air-tides + through the balsams and firs and the giant pines,—how these grand + symphonies shut out the little exasperations of our vexed life! It seems + easy to begin life over again on the simplest terms. Probably it is not so + much the desire of the congregation to escape from the preacher, or of the + preacher to escape from himself, that drives sophisticated people into the + wilderness, as it is the unconquered craving for primitive simplicity, the + revolt against the everlasting dress-parade of our civilization. From this + monstrous pomposity even the artificial rusticity of a Petit Trianon is a + relief. It was only human nature that the jaded Frenchman of the regency + should run away to the New World, and live in a forest-hut with an Indian + squaw; although he found little satisfaction in his act of heroism, unless + it was talked about at Versailles. + </p> + <p> + When our trampers come, late in the afternoon, to the bank of a lovely + lake where they purpose to enter the primitive life, everything is waiting + for them in virgin expectation. There is a little promontory jutting into + the lake, and sloping down to a sandy beach, on which the waters idly + lapse, and shoals of red-fins and shiners come to greet the stranger; the + forest is untouched by the axe; the tender green sweeps the water's edge; + ranks of slender firs are marshaled by the shore; clumps of white-birch + stems shine in satin purity among the evergreens; the boles of giant + spruces, maples, and oaks, lifting high their crowns of foliage, stretch + away in endless galleries and arcades; through the shifting leaves the + sunshine falls upon the brown earth; overhead are fragments of blue sky; + under the boughs and in chance openings appear the bluer lake and the + outline of the gracious mountains. The discoverers of this paradise, which + they have entered to destroy, note the babbling of the brook that flows + close at hand; they hear the splash of the leaping fish; they listen to + the sweet, metallic song of the evening thrush, and the chatter of the red + squirrel, who angrily challenges their right to be there. But the moment + of sentiment passes. This party has come here to eat and to sleep, and not + to encourage Nature in her poetic attitudinizing. + </p> + <p> + The spot for a shanty is selected. This side shall be its opening, towards + the lake; and in front of it the fire, so that the smoke shall drift into + the hut, and discourage the mosquitoes; yonder shall be the cook's fire + and the path to the spring. The whole colony bestir themselves in the + foundation of a new home,—an enterprise that has all the + fascination, and none of the danger, of a veritable new settlement in the + wilderness. The axes of the guides resound in the echoing spaces; great + trunks fall with a crash; vistas are opened towards the lake and the + mountains. The spot for the shanty is cleared of underbrush; forked stakes + are driven into the ground, cross-pieces are laid on them, and poles + sloping back to the ground. In an incredible space of time there is the + skeleton of a house, which is entirely open in front. The roof and sides + must be covered. For this purpose the trunks of great spruces are skinned. + The woodman rims the bark near the foot of the tree, and again six feet + above, and slashes it perpendicularly; then, with a blunt stick, he crowds + off this thick hide exactly as an ox is skinned. It needs but a few of + these skins to cover the roof; and they make a perfectly water-tight roof, + except when it rains. Meantime busy hands have gathered boughs of the + spruce and the feathery balsam, and shingled the ground underneath the + shanty for a bed. It is an aromatic bed: in theory it is elastic and + consoling. Upon it are spread the blankets. The sleepers, of all sexes and + ages, are to lie there in a row, their feet to the fire, and their heads + under the edge of the sloping roof. Nothing could be better contrived. The + fire is in front: it is not a fire, but a conflagration—a vast heap + of green logs set on fire—of pitch, and split dead-wood, and + crackling balsams, raging and roaring. By the time, twilight falls, the + cook has prepared supper. Everything has been cooked in a tin pail and a + skillet,—potatoes, tea, pork, mutton, slapjacks. You wonder how + everything could have been prepared in so few utensils. When you eat, the + wonder ceases: everything might have been cooked in one pail. It is a + noble meal; and nobly is it disposed of by these amateur savages, sitting + about upon logs and roots of trees. Never were there such potatoes, never + beans that seemed to have more of the bean in them, never such curly pork, + never trout with more Indian-meal on them, never mutton more distinctly + sheepy; and the tea, drunk out of a tin cup, with a lump of maple-sugar + dissolved in it,—it is the sort of tea that takes hold, lifts the + hair, and disposes the drinker to anecdote and hilariousness. There is no + deception about it: it tastes of tannin and spruce and creosote. + Everything, in short, has the flavor of the wilderness and a free life. It + is idyllic. And yet, with all our sentimentality, there is nothing feeble + about the cooking. The slapjacks are a solid job of work, made to last, + and not go to pieces in a person's stomach like a trivial bun: we might + record on them, in cuneiform characters, our incipient civilization; and + future generations would doubtless turn them up as Acadian bricks. Good, + robust victuals are what the primitive man wants. + </p> + <p> + Darkness falls suddenly. Outside the ring of light from our conflagration + the woods are black. There is a tremendous impression of isolation and + lonesomeness in our situation. We are the prisoners of the night. The + woods never seemed so vast and mysterious. The trees are gigantic. There + are noises that we do not understand,—mysterious winds passing + overhead, and rambling in the great galleries, tree-trunks grinding + against each other, undefinable stirs and uneasinesses. The shapes of + those who pass into the dimness are outlined in monstrous proportions. The + spectres, seated about in the glare of the fire, talk about appearances + and presentiments and religion. The guides cheer the night with + bear-fights, and catamount encounters, and frozen-to-death experiences, + and simple tales of great prolixity and no point, and jokes of primitive + lucidity. We hear catamounts, and the stealthy tread of things in the + leaves, and the hooting of owls, and, when the moon rises, the laughter of + the loon. Everything is strange, spectral, fascinating. + </p> + <p> + By and by we get our positions in the shanty for the night, and arrange + the row of sleepers. The shanty has become a smoke-house by this time: + waves of smoke roll into it from the fire. It is only by lying down, and + getting the head well under the eaves, that one can breathe. No one can + find her “things”; nobody has a pillow. At length the row is laid out, + with the solemn protestation of intention to sleep. The wind, shifting, + drives away the smoke. + </p> + <p> + Good-night is said a hundred times; positions are readjusted, more last + words, new shifting about, final remarks; it is all so comfortable and + romantic; and then silence. Silence continues for a minute. The fire + flashes up; all the row of heads is lifted up simultaneously to watch it; + showers of sparks sail aloft into the blue night; the vast vault of + greenery is a fairy spectacle. How the sparks mount and twinkle and + disappear like tropical fireflies, and all the leaves murmur, and clap + their hands! Some of the sparks do not go out: we see them flaming in the + sky when the flame of the fire has died down. Well, good-night, goodnight. + More folding of the arms to sleep; more grumbling about the hardness of a + hand-bag, or the insufficiency of a pocket-handkerchief, for a pillow. + Good-night. Was that a remark?—something about a root, a stub in the + ground sticking into the back. “You couldn't lie along a hair?”—-“Well, + no: here's another stub. It needs but a moment for the conversation to + become general,—about roots under the shoulder, stubs in the back, a + ridge on which it is impossible for the sleeper to balance, the + non-elasticity of boughs, the hardness of the ground, the heat, the smoke, + the chilly air. Subjects of remarks multiply. The whole camp is awake, and + chattering like an aviary. The owl is also awake; but the guides who are + asleep outside make more noise than the owls. Water is wanted, and is + handed about in a dipper. Everybody is yawning; everybody is now + determined to go to sleep in good earnest. A last good-night. There is an + appalling silence. It is interrupted in the most natural way in the world. + Somebody has got the start, and gone to sleep. He proclaims the fact. He + seems to have been brought up on the seashore, and to know how to make all + the deep-toned noises of the restless ocean. He is also like a war-horse; + or, it is suggested, like a saw-horse. How malignantly he snorts, and + breaks off short, and at once begins again in another key! One head is + raised after another. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody punch him.” + </p> + <p> + “Turn him over.” + </p> + <p> + “Reason with him.” + </p> + <p> + The sleeper is turned over. The turn was a mistake. He was before, it + appears, on his most agreeable side. The camp rises in indignation. The + sleeper sits up in bewilderment. Before he can go off again, two or three + others have preceded him. They are all alike. You never can judge what a + person is when he is awake. There are here half a dozen disturbers of the + peace who should be put in solitary confinement. At midnight, when a + philosopher crawls out to sit on a log by the fire, and smoke a pipe, a + duet in tenor and mezzo-soprano is going on in the shanty, with a chorus + always coming in at the wrong time. Those who are not asleep want to know + why the smoker doesn't go to bed. He is requested to get some water, to + throw on another log, to see what time it is, to note whether it looks + like rain. A buzz of conversation arises. She is sure she heard something + behind the shanty. He says it is all nonsense. “Perhaps, however, it might + be a mouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy! Are there mice?” + </p> + <p> + “Plenty.” + </p> + <p> + “Then that's what I heard nibbling by my head. I shan't sleep a wink! Do + they bite?” + </p> + <p> + “No, they nibble; scarcely ever take a full bite out.” + </p> + <p> + “It's horrid!” + </p> + <p> + Towards morning it grows chilly; the guides have let the fire go out; the + blankets will slip down. Anxiety begins to be expressed about the dawn. + </p> + <p> + “What time does the sun rise?” + </p> + <p> + “Awful early. Did you sleep? + </p> + <p> + “Not a wink. And you?” + </p> + <p> + “In spots. I'm going to dig up this root as soon as it is light enough.” + </p> + <p> + “See that mist on the lake, and the light just coming on the Gothics! I'd + no idea it was so cold: all the first part of the night I was roasted.” + </p> + <p> + “What were they talking about all night?” + </p> + <p> + When the party crawls out to the early breakfast, after it has washed its + faces in the lake, it is disorganized, but cheerful. Nobody admits much + sleep; but everybody is refreshed, and declares it delightful. It is the + fresh air all night that invigorates; or maybe it is the tea, or the + slap-jacks. The guides have erected a table of spruce bark, with benches + at the sides; so that breakfast is taken in form. It is served on tin + plates and oak chips. After breakfast begins the day's work. It may be a + mountain-climbing expedition, or rowing and angling in the lake, or + fishing for trout in some stream two or three miles distant. Nobody can + stir far from camp without a guide. Hammocks are swung, bowers are built + novel-reading begins, worsted work appears, cards are shuffled and dealt. + The day passes in absolute freedom from responsibility to one's self. At + night when the expeditions return, the camp resumes its animation. + Adventures are recounted, every statement of the narrator being disputed + and argued. Everybody has become an adept in woodcraft; but nobody credits + his neighbor with like instinct. Society getting resolved into its + elements, confidence is gone. + </p> + <p> + Whilst the hilarious party are at supper, a drop or two of rain falls. The + head guide is appealed to. Is it going to rain? He says it does rain. But + will it be a rainy night? The guide goes down to the lake, looks at the + sky, and concludes that, if the wind shifts a p'int more, there is no + telling what sort of weather we shall have. Meantime the drops patter + thicker on the leaves overhead, and the leaves, in turn, pass the water + down to the table; the sky darkens; the wind rises; there is a kind of + shiver in the woods; and we scud away into the shanty, taking the remains + of our supper, and eating it as best we can. The rain increases. The fire + sputters and fumes. All the trees are dripping, dripping, and the ground + is wet. We cannot step outdoors without getting a drenching. Like sheep, + we are penned in the little hut, where no one can stand erect. The rain + swirls into the open front, and wets the bottom of the blankets. The smoke + drives in. We curl up, and enjoy ourselves. The guides at length conclude + that it is going to be damp. The dismal situation sets us all into good + spirits; and it is later than the night before when we crawl under our + blankets, sure this time of a sound sleep, lulled by the storm and the + rain resounding on the bark roof. How much better off we are than many a + shelter-less wretch! We are as snug as dry herrings. At the moment, + however, of dropping off to sleep, somebody unfortunately notes a drop of + water on his face; this is followed by another drop; in an instant a + stream is established. He moves his head to a dry place. Scarcely has he + done so, when he feels a dampness in his back. Reaching his hand outside, + he finds a puddle of water soaking through his blanket. By this time, + somebody inquires if it is possible that the roof leaks. One man has a + stream of water under him; another says it is coming into his ear. The + roof appears to be a discriminating sieve. Those who are dry see no need + of such a fuss. The man in the corner spreads his umbrella, and the + protective measure is resented by his neighbor. In the darkness there is + recrimination. One of the guides, who is summoned, suggests that the + rubber blankets be passed out, and spread over the roof. The inmates + dislike the proposal, saying that a shower-bath is no worse than a + tub-bath. The rain continues to soak down. The fire is only half alive. + The bedding is damp. Some sit up, if they can find a dry spot to sit on, + and smoke. Heartless observations are made. A few sleep. And the night + wears on. The morning opens cheerless. The sky is still leaking, and so is + the shanty. The guides bring in a half-cooked breakfast. The roof is + patched up. There are reviving signs of breaking away, delusive signs that + create momentary exhilaration. Even if the storm clears, the woods are + soaked. There is no chance of stirring. The world is only ten feet square. + </p> + <p> + This life, without responsibility or clean clothes, may continue as long + as the reader desires. There are, those who would like to live in this + free fashion forever, taking rain and sun as heaven pleases; and there are + some souls so constituted that they cannot exist more than three days + without their worldly—baggage. Taking the party altogether, from one + cause or another it is likely to strike camp sooner than was intended. And + the stricken camp is a melancholy sight. The woods have been despoiled; + the stumps are ugly; the bushes are scorched; the pine-leaf-strewn earth + is trodden into mire; the landing looks like a cattle-ford; the ground is + littered with all the unsightly dibris of a hand-to-hand life; the + dismantled shanty is a shabby object; the charred and blackened logs, + where the fire blazed, suggest the extinction of family life. Man has + wrought his usual wrong upon Nature, and he can save his self-respect only + by moving to virgin forests. + </p> + <p> + And move to them he will, the next season, if not this. For he who has + once experienced the fascination of the woods-life never escapes its + enticement: in the memory nothing remains but its charm. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. A WILDERNESS ROMANCE + </h2> + <p> + At the south end of Keene Valley, in the Adirondacks, stands Noon Mark, a + shapely peak thirty-five hundred feet above the sea, which, with the aid + of the sun, tells the Keene people when it is time to eat dinner. From its + summit you look south into a vast wilderness basin, a great stretch of + forest little trodden, and out of whose bosom you can hear from the + heights on a still day the loud murmur of the Boquet. This basin of + unbroken green rises away to the south and southeast into the rocky + heights of Dix's Peak and Nipple Top,—the latter a local name which + neither the mountain nor the fastidious tourist is able to shake off. + Indeed, so long as the mountain keeps its present shape as seen from the + southern lowlands, it cannot get on without this name. + </p> + <p> + These two mountains, which belong to the great system of which Marcy is + the giant centre, and are in the neighborhood of five thousand feet high, + on the southern outposts of the great mountains, form the gate-posts of + the pass into the south country. This opening between them is called + Hunter's Pass. It is the most elevated and one of the wildest of the + mountain passes. Its summit is thirty-five hundred feet high. In former + years it is presumed the hunters occasionally followed the game through; + but latterly it is rare to find a guide who has been that way, and the + tin-can and paper-collar tourists have not yet made it a runway. This + seclusion is due not to any inherent difficulty of travel, but to the fact + that it lies a little out of the way. + </p> + <p> + We went through it last summer; making our way into the jaws from the foot + of the great slides on Dix, keeping along the ragged spurs of the mountain + through the virgin forest. The pass is narrow, walled in on each side by + precipices of granite, and blocked up with bowlders and fallen trees, and + beset with pitfalls in the roads ingeniously covered with fair-seeming + moss. When the climber occasionally loses sight of a leg in one of these + treacherous holes, and feels a cold sensation in his foot, he learns that + he has dipped into the sources of the Boquet, which emerges lower down + into falls and rapids, and, recruited by creeping tributaries, goes + brawling through the forest basin, and at last comes out an amiable and + boat-bearing stream in the valley of Elizabeth Town. From the summit + another rivulet trickles away to the south, and finds its way through a + frightful tamarack swamp, and through woods scarred by ruthless lumbering, + to Mud Pond, a quiet body of water, with a ghastly fringe of dead trees, + upon which people of grand intentions and weak vocabulary are trying to + fix the name of Elk Lake. The descent of the pass on that side is + precipitous and exciting. The way is in the stream itself; and a + considerable portion of the distance we swung ourselves down the faces of + considerable falls, and tumbled down cascades. The descent, however, was + made easy by the fact that it rained, and every footstep was yielding and + slippery. Why sane people, often church-members respectably connected, + will subject themselves to this sort of treatment,—be wet to the + skin, bruised by the rocks, and flung about among the bushes and dead wood + until the most necessary part of their apparel hangs in shreds,—is + one of the delightful mysteries of these woods. I suspect that every man + is at heart a roving animal, and likes, at intervals, to revert to the + condition of the bear and the catamount. + </p> + <p> + There is no trail through Hunter's Pass, which, as I have intimated, is + the least frequented portion of this wilderness. Yet we were surprised to + find a well-beaten path a considerable portion of the way and wherever a + path is possible. It was not a mere deer's runway: these are found + everywhere in the mountains. It is trodden by other and larger animals, + and is, no doubt, the highway of beasts. It bears marks of having been so + for a long period, and probably a period long ago. Large animals are not + common in these woods now, and you seldom meet anything fiercer than the + timid deer and the gentle bear. But in days gone by, Hunter's Pass was the + highway of the whole caravan of animals who were continually going + backward; and forwards, in the aimless, roaming way that beasts have, + between Mud Pond and the Boquet Basin. I think I can see now the + procession of them between the heights of Dix and Nipple Top; the elk and + the moose shambling along, cropping the twigs; the heavy bear lounging by + with his exploring nose; the frightened deer trembling at every twig that + snapped beneath his little hoofs, intent on the lily-pads of the pond; the + raccoon and the hedgehog, sidling along; and the velvet-footed panther, + insouciant and conscienceless, scenting the path with a curious glow in + his eye, or crouching in an overhanging tree ready to drop into the + procession at the right moment. Night and day, year after year, I see them + going by, watched by the red fox and the comfortably clad sable, and + grinned at by the black cat,—the innocent, the vicious, the timid + and the savage, the shy and the bold, the chattering slanderer and the + screaming prowler, the industrious and the peaceful, the tree-top critic + and the crawling biter,—just as it is elsewhere. It makes me blush + for my species when I think of it. This charming society is nearly extinct + now: of the larger animals there only remain the bear, who minds his own + business more thoroughly than any person I know, and the deer, who would + like to be friendly with men, but whose winning face and gentle ways are + no protection from the savageness of man, and who is treated with the same + unpitying destruction as the snarling catamount. I have read in history + that the amiable natives of Hispaniola fared no better at the hands of the + brutal Spaniards than the fierce and warlike Caribs. As society is at + present constituted in Christian countries, I would rather for my own + security be a cougar than a fawn. + </p> + <p> + There is not much of romantic interest in the Adirondacks. Out of the + books of daring travelers, nothing. I do not know that the Keene Valley + has any history. The mountains always stood here, and the Au Sable, + flowing now in shallows and now in rippling reaches over the sands and + pebbles, has for ages filled the air with continuous and soothing sounds. + Before the Vermonters broke into it some three-quarters of a century ago, + and made meadows of its bottoms and sugar-camps of its fringing woods, I + suppose the red Indian lived here in his usual discomfort, and was as + restless as his successors, the summer boarders. But the streams were full + of trout then, and the moose and the elk left their broad tracks on the + sands of the river. But of the Indian there is no trace. There is a mound + in the valley, much like a Tel in the country of Bashan beyond the Jordan, + that may have been built by some pre-historic race, and may contain + treasure and the seated figure of a preserved chieftain on his slow way to + Paradise. What the gentle and accomplished race of the Mound-Builders + should want in this savage region where the frost kills the early potatoes + and stunts the scanty oats, I do not know. I have seen no trace of them, + except this Tel, and one other slight relic, which came to light last + summer, and is not enough to found the history of a race upon. + </p> + <p> + Some workingmen, getting stone from the hillside on one of the little + plateaus, for a house-cellar, discovered, partly embedded, a piece of + pottery unique in this region. With the unerring instinct of workmen in + regard to antiquities, they thrust a crowbar through it, and broke the + bowl into several pieces. The joint fragments, however, give us the form + of the dish. It is a bowl about nine inches high and eight inches across, + made of red clay, baked but not glazed. The bottom is round, the top + flares into four comers, and the rim is rudely but rather artistically + ornamented with criss-cross scratches made when the clay was soft. The + vessel is made of clay not found about here, and it is one that the + Indians formerly living here could not form. Was it brought here by roving + Indians who may have made an expedition to the Ohio; was it passed from + tribe to tribe; or did it belong to a race that occupied the country + before the Indian, and who have left traces of their civilized skill in + pottery scattered all over the continent? + </p> + <p> + If I could establish the fact that this jar was made by a prehistoric + race, we should then have four generations in this lovely valley:-the + amiable Pre-Historic people (whose gentle descendants were probably killed + by the Spaniards in the West Indies); the Red Indians; the Keene Flaters + (from Vermont); and the Summer Boarders, to say nothing of the various + races of animals who have been unable to live here since the advent of the + Summer Boarders, the valley being not productive enough to sustain both. + This last incursion has been more destructive to the noble serenity of the + forest than all the preceding. + </p> + <p> + But we are wandering from Hunter's Pass. The western walls of it are + formed by the precipices of Nipple Top, not so striking nor so bare as the + great slides of Dix which glisten in the sun like silver, but rough and + repelling, and consequently alluring. I have a great desire to scale them. + I have always had an unreasonable wish to explore the rough summit of this + crabbed hill, which is too broken and jagged for pleasure and not high + enough for glory. This desire was stimulated by a legend related by our + guide that night in the Mud Pond cabin. The guide had never been through + the pass before; although he was familiar with the region, and had + ascended Nipple Top in the winter in pursuit of the sable. The story he + told doesn't amount to much, none of the guides' stories do, faithfully + reported, and I should not have believed it if I had not had a good deal + of leisure on my hands at the time, and been of a willing mind, and I may + say in rather of a starved condition as to any romance in this region. + </p> + <p> + The guide said then—and he mentioned it casually, in reply to our + inquiries about ascending the mountain—that there was a cave high up + among the precipices on the southeast side of Nipple Top. He scarcely + volunteered the information, and with seeming reluctance gave us any + particulars about it. I always admire this art by which the accomplished + story-teller lets his listener drag the reluctant tale of the marvelous + from him, and makes you in a manner responsible for its improbability. If + this is well managed, the listener is always eager to believe a great deal + more than the romancer seems willing to tell, and always resents the + assumed reservations and doubts of the latter. + </p> + <p> + There were strange reports about this cave when the old guide was a boy, + and even then its very existence had become legendary. Nobody knew exactly + where it was, but there was no doubt that it had been inhabited. Hunters + in the forests south of Dix had seen a light late at night twinkling + through the trees high up the mountain, and now and then a ruddy glare as + from the flaring-up of a furnace. Settlers were few in the wilderness + then, and all the inhabitants were well known. If the cave was inhabited, + it must be by strangers, and by men who had some secret purpose in seeking + this seclusion and eluding observation. If suspicious characters were seen + about Port Henry, or if any such landed from the steamers on the shore of + Lake Champlain, it was impossible to identify them with these invaders who + were never seen. Their not being seen did not, however, prevent the growth + of the belief in their existence. Little indications and rumors, each + trivial in itself, became a mass of testimony that could not be disposed + of because of its very indefiniteness, but which appealed strongly to + man's noblest faculty, his imagination, or credulity. + </p> + <p> + The cave existed; and it was inhabited by men who came and went on + mysterious errands, and transacted their business by night. What this band + of adventurers or desperadoes lived on, how they conveyed their food + through the trackless woods to their high eyrie, and what could induce men + to seek such a retreat, were questions discussed, but never settled. They + might be banditti; but there was nothing to plunder in these savage wilds, + and, in fact, robberies and raids either in the settlements of the hills + or the distant lake shore were unknown. In another age, these might have + been hermits, holy men who had retired from the world to feed the vanity + of their godliness in a spot where they were subject neither to + interruption nor comparison; they would have had a shrine in the cave, and + an image of the Blessed Virgin, with a lamp always burning before it and + sending out its mellow light over the savage waste. A more probable notion + was that they were romantic Frenchmen who had grow weary of vice and + refinement together,—possibly princes, expectants of the throne, + Bourbon remainders, named Williams or otherwise, unhatched eggs, so to + speak, of kings, who had withdrawn out of observation to wait for the next + turn-over in Paris. Frenchmen do such things. If they were not Frenchmen, + they might be honest-thieves or criminals, escaped from justice or from + the friendly state-prison of New York. This last supposition was, however, + more violent than the others, or seems so to us in this day of grace. For + what well-brought-up New York criminal would be so insane as to run away + from his political friends the keepers, from the easily had companionship + of his pals outside, and from the society of his criminal lawyer, and, in + short, to put himself into the depths of a wilderness out of which escape, + when escape was desired, is a good deal more difficult than it is out of + the swarming jails of the Empire State? Besides, how foolish for a man, if + he were a really hardened and professional criminal, having established + connections and a regular business, to run away from the governor's + pardon, which might have difficulty in finding him in the craggy bosom of + Nipple Top! + </p> + <p> + This gang of men—there is some doubt whether they were accompanied + by women—gave little evidence in their appearance of being escaped + criminals or expectant kings. Their movements were mysterious but not + necessarily violent. If their occupation could have been discovered, that + would have furnished a clew to their true character. But about this the + strangers were as close as mice. If anything could betray them, it was the + steady light from the cavern, and its occasional ruddy flashing. This gave + rise to the opinion, which was strengthened by a good many indications + equally conclusive, that the cave was the resort of a gang of coiners and + counterfeiters. Here they had their furnace, smelting-pots, and dies; here + they manufactured those spurious quarters and halves that their + confidants, who were pardoned, were circulating, and which a few honest + men were “nailing to the counter.” + </p> + <p> + This prosaic explanation of a romantic situation satisfies all the + requirements of the known facts, but the lively imagination at once + rejects it as unworthy of the subject. I think the guide put it forward in + order to have it rejected. The fact is,—at least, it has never been + disproved,—these strangers whose movements were veiled belonged to + that dark and mysterious race whose presence anywhere on this continent is + a nest-egg of romance or of terror. They were Spaniards! You need not say + buccaneers, you need not say gold-hunters, you need not say swarthy + adventurers even: it is enough to say Spaniards! There is no tale of + mystery and fanaticism and daring I would not believe if a Spaniard is the + hero of it, and it is not necessary either that he should have the + high-sounding name of Bodadilla or Ojeda. + </p> + <p> + Nobody, I suppose, would doubt this story if the moose, quaffing deep + draughts of red wine from silver tankards, and then throwing themselves + back upon divans, and lazily puffing the fragrant Havana. After a day of + toil, what more natural, and what more probable for a Spaniard? + </p> + <p> + Does the reader think these inferences not warranted by the facts? He does + not know the facts. It is true that our guide had never himself personally + visited the cave, but he has always intended to hunt it up. His + information in regard to it comes from his father, who was a mighty hunter + and trapper. In one of his expeditions over Nipple Top he chanced upon the + cave. The mouth was half concealed by undergrowth. He entered, not without + some apprehension engendered by the legends which make it famous. I think + he showed some boldness in venturing into such a place alone. I confess + that, before I went in, I should want to fire a Gatling gun into the mouth + for a little while, in order to rout out the bears which usually dwell + there. He went in, however. The entrance was low; but the cave was + spacious, not large, but big enough, with a level floor and a vaulted + ceiling. It had long been deserted, but that it was once the residence of + highly civilized beings there could be no doubt. The dead brands in the + centre were the remains of a fire that could not have been kindled by wild + beasts, and the bones scattered about had been scientifically dissected + and handled. There were also remnants of furniture and pieces of garments + scattered about. At the farther end, in a fissure of the rock, were stones + regularly built up, the remains of a larger fire,—and what the + hunter did not doubt was the smelting furnace of the Spaniards. He poked + about in the ashes, but found no silver. That had all been carried away. + </p> + <p> + But what most provoked his wonder in this rude cave was a chair I This was + not such a seat as a woodman might knock up with an axe, with rough body + and a seat of woven splits, but a manufactured chair of commerce, and a + chair, too, of an unusual pattern and some elegance. This chair itself was + a mute witness of luxury and mystery. The chair itself might have been + accounted for, though I don't know how; but upon the back of the chair + hung, as if the owner had carelessly flung it there before going out an + hour before, a man's waistcoat. This waistcoat seemed to him of foreign + make and peculiar style, but what endeared it to him was its row of metal + buttons. These buttons were of silver! I forget now whether he did not say + they were of silver coin, and that the coin was Spanish. But I am not + certain about this latter fact, and I wish to cast no air of improbability + over my narrative. This rich vestment the hunter carried away with him. + This was all the plunder his expedition afforded. Yes: there was one other + article, and, to my mind, more significant than the vest of the hidalgo. + This was a short and stout crowbar of iron; not one of the long crowbars + that farmers use to pry up stones, but a short handy one, such as you + would use in digging silver-ore out of the cracks of rocks. + </p> + <p> + This was the guide's simple story. I asked him what became of the vest and + the buttons, and the bar of iron. The old man wore the vest until he wore + it out; and then he handed it over to the boys, and they wore it in turn + till they wore it out. The buttons were cut off, and kept as curiosities. + They were about the cabin, and the children had them to play with. The + guide distinctly remembers playing with them; one of them he kept for a + long time, and he didn't know but he could find it now, but he guessed it + had disappeared. I regretted that he had not treasured this slender + verification of an interesting romance, but he said in those days he never + paid much attention to such things. Lately he has turned the subject over, + and is sorry that his father wore out the vest and did not bring away the + chair. It is his steady purpose to find the cave some time when he has + leisure, and capture the chair, if it has not tumbled to pieces. But about + the crowbar? Oh I that is all right. The guide has the bar at his house in + Keene Valley, and has always used it. + </p> + <p> + I am happy to be able to confirm this story by saying that next day I saw + the crowbar, and had it in my hand. It is short and thick, and the most + interesting kind of crowbar. This evidence is enough for me. I intend in + the course of this vacation to search for the cave; and, if I find it, my + readers shall know the truth about it, if it destroys the only bit of + romance connected with these mountains. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. WHAT SOME PEOPLE CALL PLEASURE + </h2> + <p> + My readers were promised an account of Spaniard's Cave on Nipple-Top + Mountain in the Adirondacks, if such a cave exists, and could be found. + There is none but negative evidence that this is a mere cave of the + imagination, the void fancy of a vacant hour; but it is the duty of the + historian to present the negative testimony of a fruitless expedition in + search of it, made last summer. I beg leave to offer this in the simple + language befitting all sincere exploits of a geographical character. + </p> + <p> + The summit of Nipple-Top Mountain has been trodden by few white men of + good character: it is in the heart of a hirsute wilderness; it is itself a + rough and unsocial pile of granite nearly five thousand feet high, + bristling with a stunted and unpleasant growth of firs and balsams, and + there is no earthly reason why a person should go there. Therefore we + went. In the party of three there was, of course, a chaplain. The guide + was Old Mountain Phelps, who had made the ascent once before, but not from + the northwest side, the direction from which we approached it. The + enthusiasm of this philosopher has grown with his years, and outlived his + endurance: we carried our own knapsacks and supplies, therefore, and drew + upon him for nothing but moral reflections and a general knowledge of the + wilderness. Our first day's route was through the Gill-brook woods and up + one of its branches to the head of Caribou Pass, which separates Nipple + Top from Colvin. + </p> + <p> + It was about the first of September; no rain had fallen for several weeks, + and this heart of the forest was as dry as tinder; a lighted match dropped + anywhere would start a conflagration. This dryness has its advantages: the + walking is improved; the long heat has expressed all the spicy odors of + the cedars and balsams, and the woods are filled with a soothing + fragrance; the waters of the streams, though scant and clear, are cold as + ice; the common forest chill is gone from the air. The afternoon was + bright; there was a feeling of exultation and adventure in stepping off + into the open but pathless forest; the great stems of deciduous trees were + mottled with patches of sunlight, which brought out upon the variegated + barks and mosses of the old trunks a thousand shifting hues. There is + nothing like a primeval wood for color on a sunny day. The shades of green + and brown are infinite; the dull red of the hemlock bark glows in the sun, + the russet of the changing moose-bush becomes brilliant; there are silvery + openings here and there; and everywhere the columns rise up to the canopy + of tender green which supports the intense blue sky and holds up a part of + it from falling through in fragments to the floor of the forest. + Decorators can learn here how Nature dares to put blue and green in + juxtaposition: she has evidently the secret of harmonizing all the colors. + </p> + <p> + The way, as we ascended, was not all through open woods; dense masses of + firs were encountered, jagged spurs were to be crossed, and the going + became at length so slow and toilsome that we took to the rocky bed of a + stream, where bowlders and flumes and cascades offered us sufficient + variety. The deeper we penetrated, the greater the sense of savageness and + solitude; in the silence of these hidden places one seems to approach the + beginning of things. We emerged from the defile into an open basin, formed + by the curved side of the mountain, and stood silent before a waterfall + coming down out of the sky in the centre of the curve. I do not know + anything exactly like this fall, which some poetical explorer has named + the Fairy-Ladder Falls. It appears to have a height of something like a + hundred and fifty feet, and the water falls obliquely across the face of + the cliff from left to right in short steps, which in the moonlight might + seem like a veritable ladder for fairies. Our impression of its height was + confirmed by climbing the very steep slope at its side some three or four + hundred feet. At the top we found the stream flowing over a broad bed of + rock, like a street in the wilderness, slanting up still towards the sky, + and bordered by low firs and balsams, and bowlders completely covered with + moss. It was above the world and open to the sky. + </p> + <p> + On account of the tindery condition of the woods we made our fire on the + natural pavement, and selected a smooth place for our bed near by on the + flat rock, with a pool of limpid water at the foot. This granite couch we + covered with the dry and springy moss, which we stripped off in heavy + fleeces a foot thick from the bowlders. First, however, we fed upon the + fruit that was offered us. Over these hills of moss ran an exquisite vine + with a tiny, ovate, green leaf, bearing small, delicate berries, oblong + and white as wax, having a faint flavor of wintergreen and the slightest + acid taste, the very essence of the wilderness; fairy food, no doubt, and + too refined for palates accustomed to coarser viands. There must exist + somewhere sinless women who could eat these berries without being reminded + of the lost purity and delicacy of the primeval senses. Every year I doubt + not this stainless berry ripens here, and is unplucked by any knight of + the Holy Grail who is worthy to eat it, and keeps alive, in the + prodigality of nature, the tradition of the unperverted conditions of + taste before the fall. We ate these berries, I am bound to say, with a + sense of guilty enjoyment, as if they had been a sort of shew-bread of the + wilderness, though I cannot answer for the chaplain, who is by virtue of + his office a little nearer to these mysteries of nature than I. This plant + belongs to the heath family, and is first cousin to the blueberry and + cranberry. It is commonly called the creeping snowberry, but I like better + its official title of chiogenes,—the snow-born. + </p> + <p> + Our mossy resting-place was named the Bridal Chamber Camp, in the + enthusiasm of the hour, after darkness fell upon the woods and the stars + came out. We were two thousand five hundred feet above the common world. + We lay, as it were, on a shelf in the sky, with a basin of illimitable + forests below us and dim mountain-passes-in the far horizon. + </p> + <p> + And as we lay there courting sleep which the blinking stars refused to + shower down, our philosopher discoursed to us of the principle of fire, + which he holds, with the ancients, to be an independent element that comes + and goes in a mysterious manner, as we see flame spring up and vanish, and + is in some way vital and indestructible, and has a mysterious relation to + the source of all things. “That flame,” he says, “you have put out, but + where has it gone?” We could not say, nor whether it is anything like the + spirit of a man which is here for a little hour, and then vanishes away. + Our own philosophy of the correlation of forces found no sort of favor at + that elevation, and we went to sleep leaving the principle of fire in the + apostolic category of “any other creature.” + </p> + <p> + At daylight we were astir; and, having pressed the principle of fire into + our service to make a pot of tea, we carefully extinguished it or sent it + into another place, and addressed ourselves to the climb of some thing + over two thousand feet. The arduous labor of scaling an Alpine peak has a + compensating glory; but the dead lift of our bodies up Nipple Top had no + stimulus of this sort. It is simply hard work, for which the strained + muscles only get the approbation of the individual conscience that drives + them to the task. The pleasure of such an ascent is difficult to explain + on the spot, and I suspect consists not so much in positive enjoyment as + in the delight the mind experiences in tyrannizing over the body. I do not + object to the elevation of this mountain, nor to the uncommonly steep + grade by which it attains it, but only to the other obstacles thrown in + the way of the climber. All the slopes of Nipple Top are hirsute and + jagged to the last degree. Granite ledges interpose; granite bowlders seem + to have been dumped over the sides with no more attempt at arrangement + than in a rip-rap wall; the slashes and windfalls of a century present + here and there an almost impenetrable chevalier des arbres; and the steep + sides bristle with a mass of thick balsams, with dead, protruding spikes, + as unyielding as iron stakes. The mountain has had its own way forever, + and is as untamed as a wolf; or rather the elements, the frightful + tempests, the frosts, the heavy snows, the coaxing sun, and the avalanches + have had their way with it until its surface is in hopeless confusion. We + made our way very slowly; and it was ten o'clock before we reached what + appeared to be the summit, a ridge deeply covered with moss, low balsams, + and blueberry-bushes. + </p> + <p> + I say, appeared to be; for we stood in thick fog or in the heart of clouds + which limited our dim view to a radius of twenty feet. It was a warm and + cheerful fog, stirred by little wind, but moving, shifting, and boiling as + by its own volatile nature, rolling up black from below and dancing in + silvery splendor overhead As a fog it could not have been improved; as a + medium for viewing the landscape it was a failure and we lay down upon the + Sybarite couch of moss, as in a Russian bath, to await revelations. + </p> + <p> + We waited two hours without change, except an occasional hopeful lightness + in the fog above, and at last the appearance for a moment of the spectral + sun. Only for an instant was this luminous promise vouchsafed. But we + watched in intense excitement. There it was again; and this time the fog + was so thin overhead that we caught sight of a patch of blue sky a yard + square, across which the curtain was instantly drawn. A little wind was + stirring, and the fog boiled up from the valley caldrons thicker than + ever. But the spell was broken. In a moment more Old Phelps was shouting, + “The sun!” and before we could gain our feet there was a patch of sky + overhead as big as a farm. “See! quick!” The old man was dancing like a + lunatic. There was a rift in the vapor at our feet, down, down, three + thousand feet into the forest abyss, and lo! lifting out of it yonder the + tawny side of Dix,—the vision of a second, snatched away in the + rolling fog. The play had just begun. Before we could turn, there was the + gorge of Caribou Pass, savage and dark, visible to the bottom. The opening + shut as suddenly; and then, looking over the clouds, miles away we saw the + peaceful farms of the Au Sable Valley, and in a moment more the plateau of + North Elba and the sentinel mountains about the grave of John Brown. These + glimpses were as fleeting as thought, and instantly we were again isolated + in the sea of mist. The expectation of these sudden strokes of sublimity + kept us exultingly on the alert; and yet it was a blow of surprise when + the curtain was swiftly withdrawn on the west, and the long ridge of + Colvin, seemingly within a stone's throw, heaved up like an island out of + the ocean, and was the next moment ingulfed. We waited longer for Dix to + show its shapely peak and its glistening sides of rock gashed by + avalanches. The fantastic clouds, torn and streaming, hurried up from the + south in haste as if to a witch's rendezvous, hiding and disclosing the + great summit in their flight. The mist boiled up from the valley, whirled + over the summit where we stood, and plunged again into the depths. Objects + were forming and disappearing, shifting and dancing, now in sun and now + gone in fog, and in the elemental whirl we felt that we were “assisting” + in an original process of creation. The sun strove, and his very striving + called up new vapors; the wind rent away the clouds, and brought new + masses to surge about us; and the spectacle to right and left, above and + below, changed with incredible swiftness. Such glory of abyss and summit, + of color and form and transformation, is seldom granted to mortal eyes. + For an hour we watched it until our vast mountain was revealed in all its + bulk, its long spurs, its abysses and its savagery, and the great basins + of wilderness with their shining lakes, and the giant peaks of the region, + were one by one disclosed, and hidden and again tranquil in the sunshine. + </p> + <p> + Where was the cave? There was ample surface in which to look for it. If we + could have flitted about, like the hawks that came circling round, over + the steep slopes, the long spurs, the jagged precipices, I have no doubt + we should have found it. But moving about on this mountain is not a + holiday pastime; and we were chiefly anxious to discover a practicable + mode of descent into the great wilderness basin on the south, which we + must traverse that afternoon before reaching the hospitable shanty on Mud + Pond. It was enough for us to have discovered the general whereabouts of + the Spanish Cave, and we left the fixing of its exact position to future + explorers. + </p> + <p> + The spur we chose for our escape looked smooth in the distance; but we + found it bristling with obstructions, dead balsams set thickly together, + slashes of fallen timber, and every manner of woody chaos; and when at + length we swung and tumbled off the ledge to the general slope, we + exchanged only for more disagreeable going. The slope for a couple of + thousand feet was steep enough; but it was formed of granite rocks all + moss-covered, so that the footing could not be determined, and at short + intervals we nearly went out of sight in holes under the treacherous + carpeting. Add to this that stems of great trees were laid longitudinally + and transversely and criss-cross over and among the rocks, and the reader + can see that a good deal of work needs to be done to make this a + practicable highway for anything but a squirrel.... + </p> + <p> + We had had no water since our daylight breakfast: our lunch on the + mountain had been moistened only by the fog. Our thirst began to be that + of Tantalus, because we could hear the water running deep down among the + rocks, but we could not come at it. The imagination drank the living + stream, and we realized anew what delusive food the imagination furnishes + in an actual strait. A good deal of the crime of this world, I am + convinced, is the direct result of the unlicensed play of the imagination + in adverse circumstances. This reflection had nothing to do with our + actual situation; for we added to our imagination patience, and to our + patience long-suffering, and probably all the Christian virtues would have + been developed in us if the descent had been long enough. Before we + reached the bottom of Caribou Pass, the water burst out from the rocks in + a clear stream that was as cold as ice. Shortly after, we struck the + roaring brook that issues from the Pass to the south. It is a stream full + of character, not navigable even for trout in the upper part, but a + succession of falls, cascades, flumes, and pools that would delight an + artist. It is not an easy bed for anything except water to descend; and + before we reached the level reaches, where the stream flows with a + murmurous noise through open woods, one of our party began to show signs + of exhaustion. + </p> + <p> + This was Old Phelps, whose appetite had failed the day before,—his + imagination being in better working order than his stomach: he had eaten + little that day, and his legs became so groggy that he was obliged to rest + at short intervals. Here was a situation! The afternoon was wearing away. + We had six or seven miles of unknown wilderness to traverse, a portion of + it swampy, in which a progress of more than a mile an hour is difficult, + and the condition of the guide compelled even a slower march. What should + we do in that lonesome solitude if the guide became disabled? We couldn't + carry him out; could we find our own way out to get assistance? The guide + himself had never been there before; and although he knew the general + direction of our point of egress, and was entirely adequate to extricate + himself from any position in the woods, his knowledge was of that occult + sort possessed by woodsmen which it is impossible to communicate. Our + object was to strike a trail that led from the Au Sable Pond, the other + side of the mountain-range, to an inlet on Mud Pond. We knew that if we + traveled southwestward far enough we must strike that trail, but how far? + No one could tell. If we reached that trail, and found a boat at the + inlet, there would be only a row of a couple of miles to the house at the + foot of the lake. If no boat was there, then we must circle the lake three + or four miles farther through a cedar-swamp, with no trail in particular. + The prospect was not pleasing. We were short of supplies, for we had not + expected to pass that night in the woods. The pleasure of the excursion + began to develop itself. + </p> + <p> + We stumbled on in the general direction marked out, through a forest that + began to seem endless as hour after hour passed, compelled as we were to + make long detours over the ridges of the foothills to avoid the swamp, + which sent out from the border of the lake long tongues into the firm + ground. The guide became more ill at every step, and needed frequent halts + and long rests. Food he could not eat; and tea, water, and even brandy he + rejected. Again and again the old philosopher, enfeebled by excessive + exertion and illness, would collapse in a heap on the ground, an almost + comical picture of despair, while we stood and waited the waning of the + day, and peered forward in vain for any sign of an open country. At every + brook we encountered, we suggested a halt for the night, while it was + still light enough to select a camping-place, but the plucky old man + wouldn't hear of it: the trail might be only a quarter of a mile ahead, + and we crawled on again at a snail's pace. His honor as a guide seemed to + be at stake; and, besides, he confessed to a notion that his end was near, + and he didn't want to die like a dog in the woods. And yet, if this was + his last journey, it seemed not an inappropriate ending for the old + woodsman to lie down and give up the ghost in the midst of the untamed + forest and the solemn silences he felt most at home in. There is a popular + theory, held by civilians, that a soldier likes to die in battle. I + suppose it is as true that a woodsman would like to “pass in his chips,”—the + figure seems to be inevitable, struck down by illness and exposure, in the + forest solitude, with heaven in sight and a tree-root for his pillow. + </p> + <p> + The guide seemed really to fear that, if we did not get out of the woods + that night, he would never go out; and, yielding to his dogged resolution, + we kept on in search of the trail, although the gathering of dusk over the + ground warned us that we might easily cross the trail without recognizing + it. We were traveling by the light in the upper sky, and by the forms of + the tree-stems, which every moment grew dimmer. At last the end came. We + had just felt our way over what seemed to be a little run of water, when + the old man sunk down, remarking, “I might as well die here as anywhere,” + and was silent. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly night fell like a blanket on us. We could neither see the guide + nor each other. We became at once conscious that miles of night on all + sides shut us in. The sky was clouded over: there wasn't a gleam of light + to show us where to step. Our first thought was to build a fire, which + would drive back the thick darkness into the woods, and boil some water + for our tea. But it was too dark to use the axe. We scraped together + leaves and twigs to make a blaze, and, as this failed, such dead sticks as + we could find by groping about. The fire was only a temporary affair, but + it sufficed to boil a can of water. The water we obtained by feeling about + the stones of the little run for an opening big enough to dip our cup in. + The supper to be prepared was fortunately simple. It consisted of a + decoction of tea and other leaves which had got into the pail, and a part + of a loaf of bread. A loaf of bread which has been carried in a knapsack + for a couple of days, bruised and handled and hacked at with a + hunting-knife, becomes an uninteresting object. But we ate of it with + thankfulness, washed it down with hot fluid, and bitterly thought of the + morrow. Would our old friend survive the night? Would he be in any + condition to travel in the morning? How were we to get out with him or + without him? + </p> + <p> + The old man lay silent in the bushes out of sight, and desired only to be + let alone. We tried to tempt him with the offer of a piece of toast: it + was no temptation. Tea we thought would revive him: he refused it. A drink + of brandy would certainly quicken his life: he couldn't touch it. We were + at the end of our resources. He seemed to think that if he were at home, + and could get a bit of fried bacon, or a piece of pie, he should be all + right. We knew no more how to doctor him than if he had been a sick bear. + He withdrew within himself, rolled himself up, so to speak, in his + primitive habits, and waited for the healing power of nature. Before our + feeble fire disappeared, we smoothed a level place near it for Phelps to + lie on, and got him over to it. But it didn't suit: it was too open. In + fact, at the moment some drops of rain fell. Rain was quite outside of our + program for the night. But the guide had an instinct about it; and, while + we were groping about some yards distant for a place where we could lie + down, he crawled away into the darkness, and curled himself up amid the + roots of a gigantic pine, very much as a bear would do, I suppose, with + his back against the trunk, and there passed the night comparatively dry + and comfortable; but of this we knew nothing till morning, and had to + trust to the assurance of a voice out of the darkness that he was all + right. + </p> + <p> + Our own bed where we spread our blankets was excellent in one respect,—there + was no danger of tumbling out of it. At first the rain pattered gently on + the leaves overhead, and we congratulated ourselves on the snugness of our + situation. There was something cheerful about this free life. We + contrasted our condition with that of tired invalids who were tossing on + downy beds, and wooing sleep in vain. Nothing was so wholesome and + invigorating as this bivouac in the forest. But, somehow, sleep did not + come. The rain had ceased to patter, and began to fall with a steady + determination, a sort of soak, soak, all about us. In fact, it roared on + the rubber blanket, and beat in our faces. The wind began to stir a + little, and there was a moaning on high. Not contented with dripping, the + rain was driven into our faces. Another suspicious circumstance was + noticed. Little rills of water got established along the sides under the + blankets, cold, undeniable streams, that interfered with drowsiness. Pools + of water settled on the bed; and the chaplain had a habit of moving + suddenly, and letting a quart or two inside, and down my neck. It began to + be evident that we and our bed were probably the wettest objects in the + woods. The rubber was an excellent catch-all. There was no trouble about + ventilation, but we found that we had established our quarters without any + provision for drainage. There was not exactly a wild tempest abroad; but + there was a degree of liveliness in the thrashing limbs and the creaking + of the tree-branches which rubbed against each other, and the pouring rain + increased in volume and power of penetration. Sleep was quite out of the + question, with so much to distract our attention. In fine, our misery + became so perfect that we both broke out into loud and sarcastic laughter + over the absurdity of our situation. We had subjected ourselves to all + this forlornness simply for pleasure. Whether Old Phelps was still in + existence, we couldn't tell: we could get no response from him. With + daylight, if he continued ill and could not move, our situation would be + little improved. Our supplies were gone, we lay in a pond, a deluge of + water was pouring down on us. This was summer recreation. The whole thing + was so excessively absurd that we laughed again, louder than ever. We had + plenty of this sort of amusement. Suddenly through the night we heard a + sort of reply that started us bolt upright. This was a prolonged squawk. + It was like the voice of no beast or bird with which we were familiar. At + first it was distant; but it rapidly approached, tearing through the night + and apparently through the tree-tops, like the harsh cry of a web-footed + bird with a snarl in it; in fact, as I said, a squawk. It came close to + us, and then turned, and as rapidly as it came fled away through the + forest, and we lost the unearthly noise far up the mountain-slope. + </p> + <p> + “What was that, Phelps?” we cried out. But no response came; and we + wondered if his spirit had been rent away, or if some evil genius had + sought it, and then, baffled by his serene and philosophic spirit, had + shot off into the void in rage and disappointment. + </p> + <p> + The night had no other adventure. The moon at length coming up behind the + clouds lent a spectral aspect to the forest, and deceived us for a time + into the notion that day was at hand; but the rain never ceased, and we + lay wishful and waiting, with no item of solid misery wanting that we + could conceive. + </p> + <p> + Day was slow a-coming, and didn't amount to much when it came, so heavy + were the clouds; but the rain slackened. We crawled out of our water-cure + “pack,” and sought the guide. To our infinite relief he announced himself + not only alive, but in a going condition. I looked at my watch. It had + stopped at five o'clock. I poured the water out of it, and shook it; but, + not being constructed on the hydraulic principle, it refused to go. Some + hours later we encountered a huntsman, from whom I procured some + gun-grease; with this I filled the watch, and heated it in by the fire. + This is a most effectual way of treating a delicate Genevan timepiece. + </p> + <p> + The light disclosed fully the suspected fact that our bed had been made in + a slight depression: the under rubber blanket spread in this had prevented + the rain from soaking into the ground, and we had been lying in what was + in fact a well-contrived bathtub. While Old Phelps was pulling himself + together, and we were wringing some gallons of water out of our blankets, + we questioned the old man about the “squawk,” and what bird was possessed + of such a voice. It was not a bird at all, he said, but a cat, the + black-cat of the woods, larger than the domestic animal, and an ugly + customer, who is fond of fish, and carries a pelt that is worth two or + three dollars in the market. Occasionally he blunders into a sable-trap; + and he is altogether hateful in his ways, and has the most uncultivated + voice that is heard in the woods. We shall remember him as one of the + least pleasant phantoms of that cheerful night when we lay in the storm, + fearing any moment the advent to one of us of the grimmest messenger. + </p> + <p> + We rolled up and shouldered our wet belongings, and, before the shades had + yet lifted from the saturated bushes, pursued our march. It was a relief + to be again in motion, although our progress was slow, and it was a + question every rod whether the guide could go on. We had the day before + us; but if we did not find a boat at the inlet a day might not suffice, in + the weak condition of the guide, to extricate us from our ridiculous + position. There was nothing heroic in it; we had no object: it was merely, + as it must appear by this time, a pleasure excursion, and we might be lost + or perish in it without reward and with little sympathy. We had something + like a hour and a half of stumbling through the swamp when suddenly we + stood in the little trail! Slight as it was, it appeared to us a very + Broadway to Paradise if broad ways ever lead thither. Phelps hailed it and + sank down in it like one reprieved from death. But the boat? Leaving him, + we quickly ran a quarter of a mile down to the inlet. The boat was there. + Our shout to the guide would have roused him out of a death-slumber. He + came down the trail with the agility of an aged deer: never was so glad a + sound in his ear, he said, as that shout. It was in a very jubilant mood + that we emptied the boat of water, pushed off, shipped the clumsy oars, + and bent to the two-mile row through the black waters of the winding, + desolate channel, and over the lake, whose dark waves were tossed a little + in the morning breeze. The trunks of dead trees stand about this lake, and + all its shores are ragged with ghastly drift-wood; but it was open to the + sky, and although the heavy clouds still obscured all the mountain-ranges + we had a sense of escape and freedom that almost made the melancholy scene + lovely. + </p> + <p> + How lightly past hardship sits upon us! All the misery of the night + vanished, as if it had not been, in the shelter of the log cabin at Mud + Pond, with dry clothes that fitted us as the skin of the bear fits him in + the spring, a noble breakfast, a toasting fire, solicitude about our + comfort, judicious sympathy with our suffering, and willingness to hear + the now growing tale of our adventure. Then came, in a day of absolute + idleness, while the showers came and went, and the mountains appeared and + disappeared in sun and storm, that perfect physical enjoyment which + consists in a feeling of strength without any inclination to use it, and + in a delicious languor which is too enjoyable to be surrendered to sleep. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's In the Wilderness, by Charles Dudley Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE WILDERNESS *** + +***** This file should be named 3132-h.htm or 3132-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/3132/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +In the Wilderness + +By Charles Dudley Warner + + + + +NOTE: This work has been previously published in [Etext #2673] +The Complete Writings of Charles Dudley Warner Volume 3 +Project Gutenberg The Complete Writings of Charles Dudley Warner +3warn10.txt or 3warn10.zip + + + + +IN THE WILDERNESS + + +CONTENTS: + HOW I KILLED A BEAR + LOST IN THE WOODS + A FIGHT WITH A TROUT + A-HUNTING OF THE DEER + A CHARACTER STUDY (Old Phelps) + CAMPING OUT + A WILDERNESS ROMANCE + WHAT SOME PEOPLE CALL PLEASURE + + + + +HOW I KILLED A BEAR + +So many conflicting accounts have appeared about my casual encounter +with an Adirondack bear last summer that in justice to the public, to +myself, and to the bear, it is necessary to make a plain statement of +the facts. Besides, it is so seldom I have occasion to kill a bear, +that the celebration of the exploit may be excused. + +The encounter was unpremeditated on both sides. I was not hunting +for a bear, and I have no reason to suppose that a bear was looking +for me. The fact is, that we were both out blackberrying, and met by +chance, the usual way. There is among the Adirondack visitors always +a great deal of conversation about bears,--a general expression of +the wish to see one in the woods, and much speculation as to how a +person would act if he or she chanced to meet one. But bears are +scarce and timid, and appear only to a favored few. + +It was a warm day in August, just the sort of day when an adventure +of any kind seemed impossible. But it occurred to the housekeepers +at our cottage--there were four of them--to send me to the clearing, +on the mountain back of the house, to pick blackberries. It was +rather a series of small clearings, running up into the forest, much +overgrown with bushes and briers, and not unromantic. Cows pastured +there, penetrating through the leafy passages from one opening to +another, and browsing among the bushes. I was kindly furnished with +a six-quart pail, and told not to be gone long. + +Not from any predatory instinct, but to save appearances, I took a +gun. It adds to the manly aspect of a person with a tin pail if he +also carries a gun. It was possible I might start up a partridge; +though how I was to hit him, if he started up instead of standing +still, puzzled me. Many people use a shotgun for partridges. I +prefer the rifle: it makes a clean job of death, and does not +prematurely stuff the bird with globules of lead. The rifle was a +Sharps, carrying a ball cartridge (ten to the pound),--an excellent +weapon belonging to a friend of mine, who had intended, for a good +many years back, to kill a deer with it. He could hit a tree with it +--if the wind did not blow, and the atmosphere was just right, and +the tree was not too far off--nearly every time. Of course, the tree +must have some size. Needless to say that I was at that time no +sportsman. Years ago I killed a robin under the most humiliating +circumstances. The bird was in a low cherry-tree. I loaded a big +shotgun pretty full, crept up under the tree, rested the gun on the +fence, with the muzzle more than ten feet from the bird, shut both +eyes, and pulled the trigger. When I got up to see what had +happened, the robin was scattered about under the tree in more than a +thousand pieces, no one of which was big enough to enable a +naturalist to decide from it to what species it belonged. This +disgusted me with the life of a sportsman. I mention the incident to +show that, although I went blackberrying armed, there was not much +inequality between me and the bear. + +In this blackberry-patch bears had been seen. The summer before, our +colored cook, accompanied by a little girl of the vicinage, was +picking berries there one day, when a bear came out of the woods, and +walked towards them. The girl took to her heels, and escaped. Aunt +Chloe was paralyzed with terror. Instead of attempting to run, she +sat down on the ground where she was standing, and began to weep and +scream, giving herself up for lost. The bear was bewildered by this +conduct. He approached and looked at her; he walked around and +surveyed her. Probably he had never seen a colored person before, +and did not know whether she would agree with him: at any rate, after +watching her a few moments, he turned about, and went into the +forest. This is an authentic instance of the delicate consideration +of a bear, and is much more remarkable than the forbearance towards +the African slave of the well-known lion, because the bear had no +thorn in his foot. + +When I had climbed the hill,--I set up my rifle against a tree, and +began picking berries, lured on from bush to bush by the black gleam +of fruit (that always promises more in the distance than it realizes +when you reach it); penetrating farther and farther, through leaf- +shaded cow-paths flecked with sunlight, into clearing after clearing. +I could hear on all sides the tinkle of bells, the cracking of +sticks, and the stamping of cattle that were taking refuge in the +thicket from the flies. Occasionally, as I broke through a covert, I +encountered a meek cow, who stared at me stupidly for a second, and +then shambled off into the brush. I became accustomed to this dumb +society, and picked on in silence, attributing all the wood noises to +the cattle, thinking nothing of any real bear. In point of fact, +however, I was thinking all the time of a nice romantic bear, and as +I picked, was composing a story about a generous she-bear who had +lost her cub, and who seized a small girl in this very wood, carried +her tenderly off to a cave, and brought her up on bear's milk and +honey. When the girl got big enough to run away, moved by her +inherited instincts, she escaped, and came into the valley to her +father's house (this part of the story was to be worked out, so that +the child would know her father by some family resemblance, and have +some language in which to address him), and told him where the bear +lived. The father took his gun, and, guided by the unfeeling +daughter, went into the woods and shot the bear, who never made any +resistance, and only, when dying, turned reproachful eyes upon her +murderer. The moral of the tale was to be kindness to animals. + +I was in the midst of this tale when I happened to look some rods +away to the other edge of the clearing, and there was a bear! He was +standing on his hind legs, and doing just what I was doing,--picking +blackberries. With one paw he bent down the bush, while with the +other he clawed the berries into his mouth,--green ones and all. To +say that I was astonished is inside the mark. I suddenly discovered +that I didn't want to see a bear, after all. At about the same +moment the bear saw me, stopped eating berries, and regarded me with +a glad surprise. It is all very well to imagine what you would do +under such circumstances. Probably you wouldn't do it: I didn't. +The bear dropped down on his forefeet, and came slowly towards me. +Climbing a tree was of no use, with so good a climber in the rear. +If I started to run, I had no doubt the bear would give chase; and +although a bear cannot run down hill as fast as he can run up hill, +yet I felt that he could get over this rough, brush-tangled ground +faster than I could. + +The bear was approaching. It suddenly occurred to me how I could +divert his mind until I could fall back upon my military base. My +pail was nearly full of excellent berries, much better than the bear +could pick himself. I put the pail on the ground, and slowly backed +away from it, keeping my eye, as beast-tamers do, on the bear. The +ruse succeeded. + +The bear came up to the berries, and stopped. Not accustomed to eat +out of a pail, he tipped it over, and nosed about in the fruit, +"gorming" (if there is such a word) it down, mixed with leaves and +dirt, like a pig. The bear is a worse feeder than the pig. Whenever +he disturbs a maple-sugar camp in the spring, he always upsets the +buckets of syrup, and tramples round in the sticky sweets, wasting +more than he eats. The bear's manners are thoroughly disagreeable. + +As soon as my enemy's head was down, I started and ran. Somewhat out +of breath, and shaky, I reached my faithful rifle. It was not a +moment too soon. I heard the bear crashing through the brush after +me. Enraged at my duplicity, he was now coming on with blood in his +eye. I felt that the time of one of us was probably short. The +rapidity of thought at such moments of peril is well known. I +thought an octavo volume, had it illustrated and published, sold +fifty thousand copies, and went to Europe on the proceeds, while that +bear was loping across the clearing. As I was cocking the gun, I +made a hasty and unsatisfactory review of my whole life. I noted, +that, even in such a compulsory review, it is almost impossible to +think of any good thing you have done. The sins come out uncommonly +strong. I recollected a newspaper subscription I had delayed paying +years and years ago, until both editor and newspaper were dead, and +which now never could be paid to all eternity. + +The bear was coming on. + +I tried to remember what I had read about encounters with bears. I +couldn't recall an instance in which a man had run away from a bear +in the woods and escaped, although I recalled plenty where the bear +had run from the man and got off. I tried to think what is the best +way to kill a bear with a gun, when you are not near enough to club +him with the stock. My first thought was to fire at his head; to +plant the ball between his eyes: but this is a dangerous experiment. +The bear's brain is very small; and, unless you hit that, the bear +does not mind a bullet in his head; that is, not at the time. I +remembered that the instant death of the bear would follow a bullet +planted just back of his fore-leg, and sent into his heart. This +spot is also difficult to reach, unless the bear stands off, side +towards you, like a target. I finally determined to fire at him +generally. + +The bear was coming on. + +The contest seemed to me very different from anything at Creedmoor. +I had carefully read the reports of the shooting there; but it was +not easy to apply the experience I had thus acquired. I hesitated +whether I had better fire lying on my stomach or lying on my back, +and resting the gun on my toes. But in neither position, I +reflected, could I see the bear until he was upon me. The range was +too short; and the bear wouldn't wait for me to examine the +thermometer, and note the direction of the wind. Trial of the +Creedmoor method, therefore, had to be abandoned; and I bitterly +regretted that I had not read more accounts of offhand shooting. + +For the bear was coming on. + +I tried to fix my last thoughts upon my family. As my family is +small, this was not difficult. Dread of displeasing my wife, or +hurting her feelings, was uppermost in my mind. What would be her +anxiety as hour after hour passed on, and I did not return! What +would the rest of the household think as the afternoon passed, and no +blackberries came! What would be my wife's mortification when the +news was brought that her husband had been eaten by a bear! I cannot +imagine anything more ignominious than to have a husband eaten by a +bear. And this was not my only anxiety. The mind at such times is +not under control. With the gravest fears the most whimsical ideas +will occur. I looked beyond the mourning friends, and thought what +kind of an epitaph they would be compelled to put upon the stone. + +Something like this: + + HERE LIE THE REMAINS + + OF + _______________ + + EATEN BY A BEAR + Aug. 20, 1877 + +It is a very unheroic and even disagreeable epitaph. That "eaten by +a bear" is intolerable. It is grotesque. And then I thought what an +inadequate language the English is for compact expression. It would +not answer to put upon the stone simply "eaten"; for that is +indefinite, and requires explanation: it might mean eaten by a +cannibal. This difficulty could not occur in the German, where essen +signifies the act of feeding by a man, and fressen by a beast. How +simple the thing would be in German! + + HIER LIEGT + HOCHWOHLGEBOREN + HERR _____ _______ + + GEFRESSEN + Aug. 20, 1877 + +That explains itself. The well-born one was eaten by a beast, and +presumably by a bear,--an animal that has a bad reputation since the +days of Elisha. + +The bear was coming on; he had, in fact, come on. I judged that he +could see the whites of my eyes. All my subsequent reflections were +confused. I raised the gun, covered the bear's breast with the +sight, and let drive. Then I turned, and ran like a deer. I did not +hear the bear pursuing. I looked back. The bear had stopped. He +was lying down. I then remembered that the best thing to do after +having fired your gun is to reload it. I slipped in a charge, +keeping my eyes on the bear. He never stirred. I walked back +suspiciously. There was a quiver in the hindlegs, but no other +motion. Still, he might be shamming: bears often sham. To make +sure, I approached, and put a ball into his head. He didn't mind it +now: he minded nothing. Death had come to him with a merciful +suddenness. He was calm in death. In order that he might remain so, +I blew his brains out, and then started for home. I had killed a +bear! + +Notwithstanding my excitement, I managed to saunter into the house +with an unconcerned air. There was a chorus of voices: + +"Where are your blackberries?" +"Why were you gone so long?" +"Where's your pail?" + +"I left the pail." + +"Left the pail? What for?" + +"A bear wanted it." + +"Oh, nonsense!" + +"Well, the last I saw of it, a bear had it." + +"Oh, come! You didn't really see a bear?" + +"Yes, but I did really see a real bear." + +"Did he run?" + +"Yes: he ran after me." + +"I don't believe a word of it. What did you do?" + +"Oh! nothing particular--except kill the bear." + +Cries of "Gammon!" "Don't believe it!" "Where's the bear?" + +"If you want to see the bear, you must go up into the woods. I +couldn't bring him down alone." + +Having satisfied the household that something extraordinary had +occurred, and excited the posthumous fear of some of them for my own +safety, I went down into the valley to get help. The great bear- +hunter, who keeps one of the summer boarding-houses, received my +story with a smile of incredulity; and the incredulity spread to the +other inhabitants and to the boarders as soon as the story was known. +However, as I insisted in all soberness, and offered to lead them to +the bear, a party of forty or fifty people at last started off with +me to bring the bear in. Nobody believed there was any bear in the +case; but everybody who could get a gun carried one; and we went into +the woods armed with guns, pistols, pitchforks, and sticks, against +all contingencies or surprises,--a crowd made up mostly of scoffers +and jeerers. + +But when I led the way to the fatal spot, and pointed out the bear, +lying peacefully wrapped in his own skin, something like terror +seized the boarders, and genuine excitement the natives. It was a +no-mistake bear, by George! and the hero of the fight well, I will +not insist upon that. But what a procession that was, carrying the +bear home! and what a congregation, was speedily gathered in the +valley to see the bear! Our best preacher up there never drew +anything like it on Sunday. + +And I must say that my particular friends, who were sportsmen, +behaved very well, on the whole. They didn't deny that it was a +bear, although they said it was small for a bear. Mr... Deane, who +is equally good with a rifle and a rod, admitted that it was a very +fair shot. He is probably the best salmon fisher in the United +States, and he is an equally good hunter. I suppose there is no +person in America who is more desirous to kill a moose than he. But +he needlessly remarked, after he had examined the wound in the bear, +that he had seen that kind of a shot made by a cow's horn. + +This sort of talk affected me not. When I went to sleep that night, +my last delicious thought was, "I've killed a bear!" + + + + +II + +LOST IN THE WOODS + +It ought to be said, by way of explanation, that my being lost in the +woods was not premeditated. Nothing could have been more informal. +This apology can be necessary only to those who are familiar with the +Adirondack literature. Any person not familiar with it would see the +absurdity of one going to the Northern Wilderness with the deliberate +purpose of writing about himself as a lost man. It may be true that +a book about this wild tract would not be recognized as complete +without a lost-man story in it, since it is almost as easy for a +stranger to get lost in the Adirondacks as in Boston. I merely +desire to say that my unimportant adventure is not narrated in answer +to the popular demand, and I do not wish to be held responsible for +its variation from the typical character of such experiences. + +We had been in camp a week, on the Upper Au Sable Lake. This is a +gem--emerald or turquoise as the light changes it--set in the virgin +forest. It is not a large body of water, is irregular in form, and +about a mile and a half in length; but in the sweep of its wooded +shores, and the lovely contour of the lofty mountains that guard it, +the lake is probably the most charming in America. Why the young +ladies and gentlemen who camp there occasionally vex the days and +nights with hooting, and singing sentimental songs, is a mystery even +to the laughing loon. + +I left my companions there one Saturday morning, to return to Keene +Valley, intending to fish down the Au Sable River. The Upper Lake +discharges itself into the Lower by a brook which winds through a +mile and a half of swamp and woods. Out of the north end of the +Lower Lake, which is a huge sink in the mountains, and mirrors the +savage precipices, the Au Sable breaks its rocky barriers, and flows +through a wild gorge, several miles, to the valley below. Between +the Lower Lake and the settlements is an extensive forest, traversed +by a cart-path, admirably constructed of loose stones, roots of +trees, decayed logs, slippery rocks, and mud. The gorge of the river +forms its western boundary. I followed this caricature of a road a +mile or more; then gave my luggage to the guide to carry home, and +struck off through the forest, by compass, to the river. I promised +myself an exciting scramble down this little-frequented canyon, and a +creel full of trout. There was no difficulty in finding the river, +or in descending the steep precipice to its bed: getting into a +scrape is usually the easiest part of it. The river is strewn with +bowlders, big and little, through which the amber water rushes with +an unceasing thunderous roar, now plunging down in white falls, then +swirling round in dark pools. The day, already past meridian, was +delightful; at least, the blue strip of it I could see overhead. + +Better pools and rapids for trout never were, I thought, as I +concealed myself behind a bowlder, and made the first cast. There is +nothing like the thrill of expectation over the first throw in +unfamiliar waters. Fishing is like gambling, in that failure only +excites hope of a fortunate throw next time. There was no rise to +the "leader" on the first cast, nor on the twenty-first; and I +cautiously worked my way down stream, throwing right and left. When +I had gone half a mile, my opinion of the character of the pools was +unchanged: never were there such places for trout; but the trout were +out of their places. Perhaps they didn't care for the fly: some +trout seem to be so unsophisticated as to prefer the worm. I +replaced the fly with a baited hook: the worm squirmed; the waters +rushed and roared; a cloud sailed across the blue: no trout rose to +the lonesome opportunity. There is a certain companionship in the +presence of trout, especially when you can feel them flopping in your +fish basket; but it became evident that there were no trout in this +wilderness, and a sense of isolation for the first time came over me. +There was no living thing near. The river had by this time entered a +deeper gorge; walls of rocks rose perpendicularly on either side,-- +picturesque rocks, painted many colors by the oxide of iron. It was +not possible to climb out of the gorge; it was impossible to find a +way by the side of the river; and getting down the bed, over the +falls, and through the flumes, was not easy, and consumed time. + +Was that thunder? Very likely. But thunder showers are always +brewing in these mountain fortresses, and it did not occur to me that +there was anything personal in it. Very soon, however, the hole in +the sky closed in, and the rain dashed down. It seemed a +providential time to eat my luncheon; and I took shelter under a +scraggy pine that had rooted itself in the edge of the rocky slope. +The shower soon passed, and I continued my journey, creeping over the +slippery rocks, and continuing to show my confidence in the +unresponsive trout. The way grew wilder and more grewsome. The +thunder began again, rolling along over the tops of the mountains, +and reverberating in sharp concussions in the gorge: the lightning +also darted down into the darkening passage, and then the rain. +Every enlightened being, even if he is in a fisherman's dress of +shirt and pantaloons, hates to get wet; and I ignominiously crept +under the edge of a sloping bowlder. It was all very well at first, +until streams of water began to crawl along the face of the rock, and +trickle down the back of my neck. This was refined misery, unheroic +and humiliating, as suffering always is when unaccompanied by +resignation. + +A longer time than I knew was consumed in this and repeated efforts +to wait for the slackening and renewing storm to pass away. In the +intervals of calm I still fished, and even descended to what a +sportsman considers incredible baseness: I put a "sinker" on my line. +It is the practice of the country folk, whose only object is to get +fish, to use a good deal of bait, sink the hook to the bottom of the +pools, and wait the slow appetite of the summer trout. I tried this +also. I might as well have fished in a pork barrel. It is true that +in one deep, black, round pool I lured a small trout from the bottom, +and deposited him in the creel; but it was an accident. Though I sat +there in the awful silence (the roar of water and thunder only +emphasized the stillness) full half an hour, I was not encouraged by +another nibble. Hope, however, did not die: I always expected to +find the trout in the next flume; and so I toiled slowly on, +unconscious of the passing time. At each turn of the stream I +expected to see the end, and at each turn I saw a long, narrow +stretch of rocks and foaming water. Climbing out of the ravine was, +in most places, simply impossible; and I began to look with interest +for a slide, where bushes rooted in the scant earth would enable me +to scale the precipice. I did not doubt that I was nearly through +the gorge. I could at length see the huge form of the Giant of the +Valley, scarred with avalanches, at the end of the vista; and it +seemed not far off. But it kept its distance, as only a mountain +can, while I stumbled and slid down the rocky way. The rain had now +set in with persistence, and suddenly I became aware that it was +growing dark; and I said to myself, "If you don't wish to spend the +night in this horrible chasm, you'd better escape speedily." +Fortunately I reached a place where the face of the precipice was +bushgrown, and with considerable labor scrambled up it. + +Having no doubt that I was within half a mile, perhaps within a few +rods, of the house above the entrance of the gorge, and that, in any +event, I should fall into the cart-path in a few minutes, I struck +boldly into the forest, congratulating myself on having escaped out +of the river. So sure was I of my whereabouts that I did not note +the bend of the river, nor look at my compass. The one trout in my +basket was no burden, and I stepped lightly out. + +The forest was of hard-wood, and open, except for a thick undergrowth +of moose-bush. It was raining,--in fact, it had been raining, more +or less, for a month,--and the woods were soaked. This moose-bush is +most annoying stuff to travel through in a rain; for the broad leaves +slap one in the face, and sop him with wet. The way grew every +moment more dingy. The heavy clouds above the thick foliage brought +night on prematurely. It was decidedly premature to a near-sighted +man, whose glasses the rain rendered useless: such a person ought to +be at home early. On leaving the river bank I had borne to the left, +so as to be sure to strike either the clearing or the road, and not +wander off into the measureless forest. I confidently pursued this +course, and went gayly on by the left flank. That I did not come to +any opening or path only showed that I had slightly mistaken the +distance: I was going in the right direction. + +I was so certain of this that I quickened my pace and got up with +alacrity every time I tumbled down amid the slippery leaves and +catching roots, and hurried on. And I kept to the left. It even +occurred to me that I was turning to the left so much that I might +come back to the river again. It grew more dusky, and rained more +violently; but there was nothing alarming in the situation, since I +knew exactly where I was. It was a little mortifying that I had +miscalculated the distance: yet, so far was I from feeling any +uneasiness about this that I quickened my pace again, and, before I +knew it, was in a full run; that is, as full a run as a person can +indulge in in the dusk, with so many trees in the way. No +nervousness, but simply a reasonable desire to get there. I desired +to look upon myself as the person "not lost, but gone before." As +time passed, and darkness fell, and no clearing or road appeared, I +ran a little faster. It didn't seem possible that the people had +moved, or the road been changed; and yet I was sure of my direction. +I went on with an energy increased by the ridiculousness of the +situation, the danger that an experienced woodsman was in of getting +home late for supper; the lateness of the meal being nothing to the +gibes of the unlost. How long I kept this course, and how far I went +on, I do not know; but suddenly I stumbled against an ill-placed +tree, and sat down on the soaked ground, a trifle out of breath. It +then occurred to me that I had better verify my course by the +compass. There was scarcely light enough to distinguish the black +end of the needle. To my amazement, the compass, which was made near +Greenwich, was wrong. Allowing for the natural variation of the +needle, it was absurdly wrong. It made out that I was going south +when I was going north. It intimated that, instead of turning to the +left, I had been making a circuit to the right. According to the +compass, the Lord only knew where I was. + +The inclination of persons in the woods to travel in a circle is +unexplained. I suppose it arises from the sympathy of the legs with +the brain. Most people reason in a circle: their minds go round and +round, always in the same track. For the last half hour I had been +saying over a sentence that started itself: "I wonder where that road +is!" I had said it over till it had lost all meaning. I kept going +round on it; and yet I could not believe that my body had been +traveling in a circle. Not being able to recognize any tracks, I +have no evidence that I had so traveled, except the general testimony +of lost men. + +The compass annoyed me. I've known experienced guides utterly +discredit it. It couldn't be that I was to turn about, and go the +way I had come. Nevertheless, I said to myself, "You'd better keep a +cool head, my boy, or you are in for a night of it. Better listen to +science than to spunk." And I resolved to heed the impartial needle. +I was a little weary of the rough tramping: but it was necessary to +be moving; for, with wet clothes and the night air, I was decidedly +chilly. I turned towards the north, and slipped and stumbled along. +A more uninviting forest to pass the night in I never saw. Every- +thing was soaked. If I became exhausted, it would be necessary to +build a fire; and, as I walked on, I couldn't find a dry bit of wood. +Even if a little punk were discovered in a rotten log I had no +hatchet to cut fuel. I thought it all over calmly. I had the usual +three matches in my pocket. I knew exactly what would happen if I +tried to build a fire. The first match would prove to be wet. The +second match, when struck, would shine and smell, and fizz a little, +and then go out. There would be only one match left. Death would +ensue if it failed. I should get close to the log, crawl under my +hat, strike the match, see it catch, flicker, almost go out (the +reader painfully excited by this time), blaze up, nearly expire, and +finally fire the punk,--thank God! And I said to myself, "The public +don't want any more of this thing: it is played out. Either have a +box of matches, or let the first one catch fire." + +In this gloomy mood I plunged along. The prospect was cheerless; +for, apart from the comfort that a fire would give, it is necessary, +at night, to keep off the wild beasts. I fancied I could hear the +tread of the stealthy brutes following their prey. But there was one +source of profound satisfaction,--the catamount had been killed. Mr. +Colvin, the triangulating surveyor of the Adirondacks, killed him in +his last official report to the State. Whether he despatched him +with a theodolite or a barometer does not matter: he is officially +dead, and none of the travelers can kill him any more. Yet he has +served them a good turn. + +I knew that catamount well. One night when we lay in the bogs of the +South Beaver Meadow, under a canopy of mosquitoes, the serene +midnight was parted by a wild and humanlike cry from a neighboring +mountain. "That's a cat," said the guide. I felt in a moment that +it was the voice of "modern cultchah." " Modern culture," says Mr. +Joseph Cook in a most impressive period,--" modern culture is a child +crying in the wilderness, and with no voice but a cry." That +describes the catamount exactly. The next day, when we ascended the +mountain, we came upon the traces of this brute,--a spot where he had +stood and cried in the night; and I confess that my hair rose with +the consciousness of his recent presence, as it is said to do when a +spirit passes by. + +Whatever consolation the absence of catamount in a dark, drenched, +and howling wilderness can impart, that I experienced; but I thought +what a satire upon my present condition was modern culture, with its +plain thinking and high living! It was impossible to get much +satisfaction out of the real and the ideal,--the me and the not-me. +At this time what impressed me most was the absurdity of my position +looked at in the light of modern civilization and all my advantages +and acquirements. It seemed pitiful that society could do absolutely +nothing for me. It was, in fact, humiliating to reflect that it +would now be profitable to exchange all my possessions for the woods +instinct of the most unlettered guide. I began to doubt the value of +the "culture" that blunts the natural instincts. + +It began to be a question whether I could hold out to walk all night; +for I must travel, or perish. And now I imagined that a spectre was +walking by my side. This was Famine. To be sure, I had only +recently eaten a hearty luncheon: but the pangs of hunger got hold on +me when I thought that I should have no supper, no breakfast; and, as +the procession of unattainable meals stretched before me, I grew +hungrier and hungrier. I could feel that I was becoming gaunt, and +wasting away: already I seemed to be emaciated. It is astonishing +how speedily a jocund, well-conditioned human being can be +transformed into a spectacle of poverty and want, Lose a man in the +Woods, drench him, tear his pantaloons, get his imagination running +on his lost supper and the cheerful fireside that is expecting him, +and he will become haggard in an hour. I am not dwelling upon these +things to excite the reader's sympathy, but only to advise him, if he +contemplates an adventure of this kind, to provide himself with +matches, kindling wood, something more to eat than one raw trout, and +not to select a rainy night for it. + +Nature is so pitiless, so unresponsive, to a person in trouble! I +had read of the soothing companionship of the forest, the pleasure of +the pathless woods. But I thought, as I stumbled along in the dismal +actuality, that, if I ever got out of it, I would write a letter to +the newspapers, exposing the whole thing. There is an impassive, +stolid brutality about the woods that has never been enough insisted +on. I tried to keep my mind fixed upon the fact of man's superiority +to Nature; his ability to dominate and outwit her. My situation was +an amusing satire on this theory. I fancied that I could feel a +sneer in the woods at my detected conceit. There was something +personal in it. The downpour of the rain and the slipperiness of the +ground were elements of discomfort; but there was, besides these, a +kind of terror in the very character of the forest itself. I think +this arose not more from its immensity than from the kind of +stolidity to which I have alluded. It seemed to me that it would be +a sort of relief to kick the trees. I don't wonder that the bears +fall to, occasionally, and scratch the bark off the great pines and +maples, tearing it angrily away. One must have some vent to his +feelings. It is a common experience of people lost in the woods to +lose their heads; and even the woodsmen themselves are not free from +this panic when some accident has thrown them out of their reckoning. +Fright unsettles the judgment: the oppressive silence of the woods is +a vacuum in which the mind goes astray. It's a hollow sham, this +pantheism, I said; being "one with Nature" is all humbug: I should +like to see somebody. Man, to be sure, is of very little account, +and soon gets beyond his depth; but the society of the least human +being is better than this gigantic indifference. The "rapture on the +lonely shore" is agreeable only when you know you can at any moment +go home. + +I had now given up all expectation of finding the road, and was +steering my way as well as I could northward towards the valley. In +my haste I made slow progress. Probably the distance I traveled was +short, and the time consumed not long; but I seemed to be adding mile +to mile, and hour to hour. I had time to review the incidents of the +Russo-Turkish war, and to forecast the entire Eastern question; I +outlined the characters of all my companions left in camp, and +sketched in a sort of comedy the sympathetic and disparaging +observations they would make on my adventure; I repeated something +like a thousand times, without contradiction, "What a fool you were +to leave the river!" I stopped twenty times, thinking I heard its +loud roar, always deceived by the wind in the tree-tops; I began to +entertain serious doubts about the compass,--when suddenly I became +aware that I was no longer on level ground: I was descending a slope; +I was actually in a ravine. In a moment more I was in a brook newly +formed by the rain. "Thank Heaven!" I cried: "this I shall follow, +whatever conscience or the compass says." In this region, all +streams go, sooner or later, into the valley. This ravine, this +stream, no doubt, led to the river. I splashed and tumbled along +down it in mud and water. Down hill we went together, the fall +showing that I must have wandered to high ground. When I guessed +that I must be close to the river, I suddenly stepped into mud up to +my ankles. It was the road,--running, of course, the wrong way, but +still the blessed road. It was a mere canal of liquid mud; but man +had made it, and it would take me home. I was at least three miles +from the point I supposed I was near at sunset, and I had before me a +toilsome walk of six or seven miles, most of the way in a ditch; but +it is truth to say that I enjoyed every step of it. I was safe; I +knew where I was; and I could have walked till morning. The mind had +again got the upper hand of the body, and began to plume itself on +its superiority: it was even disposed to doubt whether it had been +"lost" at all. + + + + +III + +A FIGHT WITH A TROUT + +Trout fishing in the Adirondacks would be a more attractive pastime +than it is but for the popular notion of its danger. The trout is a +retiring and harmless animal, except when he is aroused and forced +into a combat; and then his agility, fierceness, and vindictiveness +become apparent. No one who has studied the excellent pictures +representing men in an open boat, exposed to the assaults of long, +enraged trout flying at them through the open air with open mouth, +ever ventures with his rod upon the lonely lakes of the forest +without a certain terror, or ever reads of the exploits of daring +fishermen without a feeling of admiration for their heroism. Most of +their adventures are thrilling, and all of them are, in narration, +more or less unjust to the trout: in fact, the object of them seems +to be to exhibit, at the expense of the trout, the shrewdness, the +skill, and the muscular power of the sportsman. My own simple story +has few of these recommendations. + +We had built our bark camp one summer and were staying on one of the +popular lakes of the Saranac region. It would be a very pretty +region if it were not so flat, if the margins of the lakes had not +been flooded by dams at the outlets, which have killed the trees, and +left a rim of ghastly deadwood like the swamps of the under-world +pictured by Dore's bizarre pencil,--and if the pianos at the hotels +were in tune. It would be an excellent sporting region also (for +there is water enough) if the fish commissioners would stock the +waters, and if previous hunters had not pulled all the hair and skin +off from the deers' tails. Formerly sportsmen had a habit of +catching the deer by the tails, and of being dragged in mere +wantonness round and round the shores. It is well known that if you +seize a deer by this "holt" the skin will slip off like the peel from +a banana--This reprehensible practice was carried so far that the +traveler is now hourly pained by the sight of peeled-tail deer +mournfully sneaking about the wood. + +We had been hearing, for weeks, of a small lake in the heart of the +virgin forest, some ten miles from our camp, which was alive with +trout, unsophisticated, hungry trout: the inlet to it was described +as stiff with them. In my imagination I saw them lying there in +ranks and rows, each a foot long, three tiers deep, a solid mass. +The lake had never been visited except by stray sable hunters in the +winter, and was known as the Unknown Pond. I determined to explore +it, fully expecting, however, that it would prove to be a delusion, +as such mysterious haunts of the trout usually are. Confiding my +purpose to Luke, we secretly made our preparations, and stole away +from the shanty one morning at daybreak. Each of us carried a boat, +a pair of blankets, a sack of bread, pork, and maple-sugar; while I +had my case of rods, creel, and book of flies, and Luke had an axe +and the kitchen utensils. We think nothing of loads of this sort in +the woods. + +Five miles through a tamarack swamp brought us to the inlet of +Unknown Pond, upon which we embarked our fleet, and paddled down its +vagrant waters. They were at first sluggish, winding among triste +fir-trees, but gradually developed a strong current. At the end of +three miles a loud roar ahead warned us that we were approaching +rapids, falls, and cascades. We paused. The danger was unknown. We +had our choice of shouldering our loads and making a detour through +the woods, or of "shooting the rapids." Naturally we chose the more +dangerous course. Shooting the rapids has often been described, and +I will not repeat the description here. It is needless to say that I +drove my frail bark through the boiling rapids, over the successive +waterfalls, amid rocks and vicious eddies, and landed, half a mile +below with whitened hair and a boat half full of water; and that the +guide was upset, and boat, contents, and man were strewn along the +shore. + +After this common experience we went quickly on our journey, and, a +couple of hours before sundown, reached the lake. If I live to my +dying day, I never shall forget its appearance. The lake is almost +an exact circle, about a quarter of a mile in diameter. The forest +about it was untouched by axe, and unkilled by artificial flooding. +The azure water had a perfect setting of evergreens, in which all the +shades of the fir, the balsam, the pine, and the spruce were +perfectly blended; and at intervals on the shore in the emerald rim +blazed the ruby of the cardinal flower. It was at once evident that +the unruffled waters had never been vexed by the keel of a boat. But +what chiefly attracted my attention, and amused me, was the boiling +of the water, the bubbling and breaking, as if the lake were a vast +kettle, with a fire underneath. A tyro would have been astonished at +this common phenomenon; but sportsmen will at once understand me when +I say that the water boiled with the breaking trout. I studied the +surface for some time to see upon what sort of flies they were +feeding, in order to suit my cast to their appetites; but they seemed +to be at play rather than feeding, leaping high in the air in +graceful curves, and tumbling about each other as we see them in the +Adirondack pictures. + +It is well known that no person who regards his reputation will ever +kill a trout with anything but a fly. It requires some training on +the part of the trout to take to this method. The uncultivated, +unsophisticated trout in unfrequented waters prefers the bait; and +the rural people, whose sole object in going a-fishing appears to be +to catch fish, indulge them in their primitive taste for the worm. +No sportsman, however, will use anything but a fly, except he happens +to be alone. + +While Luke launched my boat and arranged his seat in the stern, I +prepared my rod and line. The rod is a bamboo, weighing seven +ounces, which has to be spliced with a winding of silk thread every +time it is used. This is a tedious process; but, by fastening the +joints in this way, a uniform spring is secured in the rod. No one +devoted to high art would think of using a socket joint. My line was +forty yards of untwisted silk upon a multiplying reel. The "leader" +(I am very particular about my leaders) had been made to order from a +domestic animal with which I had been acquainted. The fisherman +requires as good a catgut as the violinist. The interior of the +house cat, it is well known, is exceedingly sensitive; but it may not +be so well known that the reason why some cats leave the room in +distress when a piano-forte is played is because the two instruments +are not in the same key, and the vibrations of the chords of the one +are in discord with the catgut of the other. On six feet of this +superior article I fixed three artificial flies,--a simple brown +hackle, a gray body with scarlet wings, and one of my own invention, +which I thought would be new to the most experienced fly-catcher. +The trout-fly does not resemble any known species of insect. It is a +"conventionalized" creation, as we say of ornamentation. The theory +is that, fly-fishing being a high art, the fly must not be a tame +imitation of nature, but an artistic suggestion of it. It requires +an artist to construct one; and not every bungler can take a bit of +red flannel, a peacock's feather, a flash of tinsel thread, a cock's +plume, a section of a hen's wing, and fabricate a tiny object that +will not look like any fly, but still will suggest the universal +conventional fly. + +I took my stand in the center of the tipsy boat; and Luke shoved off, +and slowly paddled towards some lily-pads, while I began casting, +unlimbering my tools, as it were. The fish had all disappeared. +I got out, perhaps, fifty feet of line, with no response, and +gradually increased it to one hundred. It is not difficult to learn +to cast; but it is difficult to learn not to snap off the flies at +every throw. Of this, however, we will not speak. I continued +casting for some moments, until I became satisfied that there had +been a miscalculation. Either the trout were too green to know what +I was at, or they were dissatisfied with my offers. I reeled in, and +changed the flies (that is, the fly that was not snapped off). After +studying the color of the sky, of the water, and of the foliage, and +the moderated light of the afternoon, I put on a series of beguilers, +all of a subdued brilliancy, in harmony with the approach of evening. +At the second cast, which was a short one, I saw a splash where the +leader fell, and gave an excited jerk. The next instant I perceived +the game, and did not need the unfeigned "dam" of Luke to convince me +that I had snatched his felt hat from his head and deposited it among +the lilies. Discouraged by this, we whirled about, and paddled over +to the inlet, where a little ripple was visible in the tinted light. +At the very first cast I saw that the hour had come. Three trout +leaped into the air. The danger of this manoeuvre all fishermen +understand. It is one of the commonest in the woods: three heavy +trout taking hold at once, rushing in different directions, smash the +tackle into flinders. I evaded this catch, and threw again. I +recall the moment. A hermit thrush, on the tip of a balsam, uttered +his long, liquid, evening note. Happening to look over my shoulder, +I saw the peak of Marcy gleam rosy in the sky (I can't help it that +Marcy is fifty miles off, and cannot be seen from this region: these +incidental touches are always used). The hundred feet of silk +swished through the air, and the tail-fly fell as lightly on the +water as a three-cent piece (which no slamming will give the weight +of a ten) drops upon the contribution plate. Instantly there was a +rush, a swirl. I struck, and "Got him, by---!" Never mind what Luke +said I got him by. "Out on a fly!" continued that irreverent guide; +but I told him to back water, and make for the center of the lake. +The trout, as soon as he felt the prick of the hook, was off like a +shot, and took out the whole of the line with a rapidity that made it +smoke. "Give him the butt!" shouted Luke. It is the usual remark in +such an emergency. I gave him the butt; and, recognizing the fact +and my spirit, the trout at once sank to the bottom, and sulked. It +is the most dangerous mood of a trout; for you cannot tell what he +will do next. We reeled up a little, and waited five minutes for him +to reflect. A tightening of the line enraged him, and he soon +developed his tactics. Coming to the surface, he made straight for +the boat faster than I could reel in, and evidently with hostile +intentions. "Look out for him!" cried Luke as he came flying in the +air. I evaded him by dropping flat in the bottom of the boat; and, +when I picked my traps up, he was spinning across the lake as if he +had a new idea: but the line was still fast. He did not run far. I +gave him the butt again; a thing he seemed to hate, even as a gift. +In a moment the evil-minded fish, lashing the water in his rage, was +coming back again, making straight for the boat as before. Luke, who +was used to these encounters, having read of them in the writings of +travelers he had accompanied, raised his paddle in self-defense. The +trout left the water about ten feet from the boat, and came directly +at me with fiery eyes, his speckled sides flashing like a meteor. I +dodged as he whisked by with a vicious slap of his bifurcated tail, +and nearly upset the boat. The line was of course slack, and the +danger was that he would entangle it about me, and carry away a leg. +This was evidently his game; but I untangled it, and only lost a +breast button or two by the swiftly-moving string. The trout plunged +into the water with a hissing sound, and went away again with all the +line on the reel. More butt; more indignation on the part of the +captive. The contest had now been going on for half an hour, and I +was getting exhausted. We had been back and forth across the lake, +and round and round the lake. What I feared was that the trout would +start up the inlet and wreck us in the bushes. But he had a new +fancy, and began the execution of a manoeuvre which I had never read +of. Instead of coming straight towards me, he took a large circle, +swimming rapidly, and gradually contracting his orbit. I reeled in, +and kept my eye on him. Round and round he went, narrowing his +circle. I began to suspect the game; which was, to twist my head +off.--When he had reduced the radius of his circle to about twenty- +five feet, he struck a tremendous pace through the water. It would +be false modesty in a sportsman to say that I was not equal to the +occasion. Instead of turning round with him, as he expected, I +stepped to the bow, braced myself, and let the boat swing. Round +went the fish, and round we went like a top. I saw a line of Mount +Marcys all round the horizon; the rosy tint in the west made a broad +band of pink along the sky above the tree-tops; the evening star was +a perfect circle of light, a hoop of gold in the heavens. We whirled +and reeled, and reeled and whirled. I was willing to give the +malicious beast butt and line, and all, if he would only go the other +way for a change. + +When I came to myself, Luke was gaffing the trout at the boat-side. +After we had got him in and dressed him, he weighed three-quarters of +a pound. Fish always lose by being "got in and dressed." It is best +to weigh them while they are in the water. The only really large one +I ever caught got away with my leader when I first struck him. He +weighed ten pounds. + + + + +IV + +A-HUNTING OF THE DEER + +If civilization owes a debt of gratitude to the self-sacrificing +sportsmen who have cleared the Adirondack regions of catamounts and +savage trout, what shall be said of the army which has so nobly +relieved them of the terror of the deer? The deer-slayers have +somewhat celebrated their exploits in print; but I think that justice +has never been done them. + +The American deer in the wilderness, left to himself, leads a +comparatively harmless but rather stupid life, with only such +excitement as his own timid fancy raises. It was very seldom that +one of his tribe was eaten by the North American tiger. For a wild +animal he is very domestic, simple in his tastes, regular in his +habits, affectionate in his family. Unfortunately for his repose, +his haunch is as tender as his heart. Of all wild creatures he is +one of the most graceful in action, and he poses with the skill of an +experienced model. I have seen the goats on Mount Pentelicus scatter +at the approach of a stranger, climb to the sharp points of +projecting rocks, and attitudinize in the most self-conscious manner, +striking at once those picturesque postures against the sky with +which Oriental pictures have made us and them familiar. But the +whole proceeding was theatrical. + +Greece is the home of art, and it is rare to find anything there +natural and unstudied. I presume that these goats have no nonsense +about them when they are alone with the goatherds, any more than the +goatherds have, except when they come to pose in the studio; but the +long ages of culture, the presence always to the eye of the best +models and the forms of immortal beauty, the heroic friezes of the +Temple of Theseus, the marble processions of sacrificial animals, +have had a steady molding, educating influence equal to a society of +decorative art upon the people and the animals who have dwelt in this +artistic atmosphere. The Attic goat has become an artificially +artistic being; though of course he is not now what he was, as a +poser, in the days of Polycletus. There is opportunity for a very +instructive essay by Mr. E. A. Freeman on the decadence of the Attic +goat under the influence of the Ottoman Turk. + +The American deer, in the free atmosphere of our country, and as yet +untouched by our decorative art, is without self-consciousness, and +all his attitudes are free and unstudied. The favorite position of +the deer--his fore-feet in the shallow margin of the lake, among the +lily-pads, his antlers thrown back and his nose in the air at the +moment he hears the stealthy breaking of a twig in the forest--is +still spirited and graceful, and wholly unaffected by the pictures of +him which the artists have put upon canvas. + +Wherever you go in the Northern forest you will find deer-paths. So +plainly marked and well-trodden are they that it is easy to mistake +them for trails made by hunters; but he who follows one of them is +soon in difficulties. He may find himself climbing through cedar +thickets an almost inaccessible cliff, or immersed in the intricacies +of a marsh. The "run," in one direction, will lead to water; but, in +the other, it climbs the highest hills, to which the deer retires, +for safety and repose, in impenetrable thickets. The hunters, in +winter, find them congregated in " yards," where they can be +surrounded and shot as easily as our troops shoot Comanche women and +children in their winter villages. These little paths are full of +pitfalls among the roots and stones; and, nimble as the deer is, he +sometimes breaks one of his slender legs in them. Yet he knows how +to treat himself without a surgeon. I knew of a tame deer in a +settlement in the edge of the forest who had the misfortune to break +her leg. She immediately disappeared with a delicacy rare in an +invalid, and was not seen for two weeks. Her friends had given her +up, supposing that she had dragged herself away into the depths of +the woods, and died of starvation, when one day she returned, cured +of lameness, but thin as a virgin shadow. She had the sense to shun +the doctor; to lie down in some safe place, and patiently wait for +her leg to heal. I have observed in many of the more refined animals +this sort of shyness, and reluctance to give trouble, which excite +our admiration when noticed in mankind. + +The deer is called a timid animal, and taunted with possessing +courage only when he is "at bay"; the stag will fight when he can no +longer flee; and the doe will defend her young in the face of +murderous enemies. The deer gets little credit for this eleventh- +hour bravery. But I think that in any truly Christian condition of +society the deer would not be conspicuous for cowardice. I suppose +that if the American girl, even as she is described in foreign +romances, were pursued by bull-dogs, and fired at from behind fences +every time she ventured outdoors, she would become timid, and +reluctant to go abroad. When that golden era comes which the poets +think is behind us, and the prophets declare is about to be ushered +in by the opening of the "vials," and the killing of everybody who +does not believe as those nations believe which have the most cannon; +when we all live in real concord,--perhaps the gentle-hearted deer +will be respected, and will find that men are not more savage to the +weak than are the cougars and panthers. If the little spotted fawn +can think, it must seem to her a queer world in which the advent of +innocence is hailed by the baying of fierce hounds and the "ping" of +the rifle. + +Hunting the deer in the Adirondacks is conducted in the most manly +fashion. There are several methods, and in none of them is a fair +chance to the deer considered. A favorite method with the natives is +practiced in winter, and is called by them "still hunting." My idea +of still hunting is for one man to go alone into the forest, look +about for a deer, put his wits fairly against the wits of the keen- +scented animal, and kill his deer, or get lost in the attempt. There +seems to be a sort of fairness about this. It is private +assassination, tempered with a little uncertainty about finding your +man. The still hunting of the natives has all the romance and danger +attending the slaughter of sheep in an abattoir. As the snow gets +deep, many deer congregate in the depths of the forest, and keep a +place trodden down, which grows larger as they tramp down the snow in +search of food. In time this refuge becomes a sort of "yard," +surrounded by unbroken snow-banks. The hunters then make their way +to this retreat on snowshoes, and from the top of the banks pick off +the deer at leisure with their rifles, and haul them away to market, +until the enclosure is pretty much emptied. This is one of the +surest methods of exterminating the deer; it is also one of the most +merciful; and, being the plan adopted by our government for +civilizing the Indian, it ought to be popular. The only people who +object to it are the summer sportsmen. They naturally want some +pleasure out of the death of the deer. + +Some of our best sportsmen, who desire to protract the pleasure of +slaying deer through as many seasons as possible, object to the +practice of the hunters, who make it their chief business to +slaughter as many deer in a camping season as they can. Their own +rule, they say, is to kill a deer only when they need venison to eat. +Their excuse is specious. What right have these sophists to put +themselves into a desert place, out of the reach of provisions, and +then ground a right to slay deer on their own improvidence? If it is +necessary for these people to have anything to eat, which I doubt, it +is not necessary that they should have the luxury of venison. + +One of the most picturesque methods of hunting the poor deer is +called " floating." The person, with murder in his heart, chooses a +cloudy night, seats himself, rifle in hand, in a canoe, which is +noiselessly paddled by the guide, and explores the shore of the lake +or the dark inlet. In the bow of the boat is a light in a "jack," +the rays of which are shielded from the boat and its occupants. A +deer comes down to feed upon the lily-pads. The boat approaches him. +He looks up, and stands a moment, terrified or fascinated by the +bright flames. In that moment the sportsman is supposed to shoot the +deer. As an historical fact, his hand usually shakes so that he +misses the animal, or only wounds him; and the stag limps away to die +after days of suffering. Usually, however, the hunters remain out +all night, get stiff from cold and the cramped position in the boat, +and, when they return in the morning to camp, cloud their future +existence by the assertion that they "heard a big buck" moving along +the shore, but the people in camp made so much noise that he was +frightened off. + +By all odds, the favorite and prevalent mode is hunting with dogs. +The dogs do the hunting, the men the killing. The hounds are sent +into the forest to rouse the deer, and drive him from his cover. +They climb the mountains, strike the trails, and go baying and +yelping on the track of the poor beast. The deer have their +established runways, as I said; and, when they are disturbed in their +retreat, they are certain to attempt to escape by following one which +invariably leads to some lake or stream. All that the hunter has to +do is to seat himself by one of these runways, or sit in a boat on +the lake, and wait the coming of the pursued deer. The frightened +beast, fleeing from the unreasoning brutality of the hounds, will +often seek the open country, with a mistaken confidence in the +humanity of man. To kill a deer when he suddenly passes one on a +runway demands presence of mind and quickness of aim: to shoot him +from the boat, after he has plunged panting into the lake, requires +the rare ability to hit a moving object the size of a deer's head a +few rods distant. Either exploit is sufficient to make a hero of a +common man. To paddle up to the swimming deer, and cut his throat, +is a sure means of getting venison, and has its charms for some. +Even women and doctors of divinity have enjoyed this exquisite +pleasure. It cannot be denied that we are so constituted by a wise +Creator as to feel a delight in killing a wild animal which we do not +experience in killing a tame one. + +The pleasurable excitement of a deer-hunt has never, I believe, been +regarded from the deer's point of view. I happen to be in a +position, by reason of a lucky Adirondack experience, to present it +in that light. I am sorry if this introduction to my little story +has seemed long to the reader: it is too late now to skip it; but he +can recoup himself by omitting the story. + +Early on the morning of the 23d of August, 1877, a doe was feeding on +Basin Mountain. The night had been warm and showery, and the morning +opened in an undecided way. The wind was southerly: it is what the +deer call a dog-wind, having come to know quite well the meaning of +"a southerly wind and a cloudy sky." The sole companion of the doe +was her only child, a charming little fawn, whose brown coat was just +beginning to be mottled with the beautiful spots which make this +young creature as lovely as the gazelle. The buck, its father, had +been that night on a long tramp across the mountain to Clear Pond, +and had not yet returned: he went ostensibly to feed on the succulent +lily-pads there. "He feedeth among the lilies until the day break +and the shadows flee away, and he should be here by this hour; but he +cometh not," she said, "leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the +hills." Clear Pond was too far off for the young mother to go with +her fawn for a night's pleasure. It was a fashionable watering-place +at this season among the deer; and the doe may have remembered, not +without uneasiness, the moonlight meetings of a frivolous society +there. But the buck did not come: he was very likely sleeping under +one of the ledges on Tight Nippin. Was he alone? "I charge you, by +the roes and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not nor awake my +love till he please." + +The doe was feeding, daintily cropping the tender leaves of the young +shoots, and turning from time to time to regard her offspring. The +fawn had taken his morning meal, and now lay curled up on a bed of +moss, watching contentedly, with his large, soft brown eyes, every +movement of his mother. The great eyes followed her with an alert +entreaty; and, if the mother stepped a pace or two farther away in +feeding, the fawn made a half movement, as if to rise and follow her. +You see, she was his sole dependence in all the world. But he was +quickly reassured when she turned her gaze on him; and if, in alarm, +he uttered a plaintive cry, she bounded to him at once, and, with +every demonstration of affection, licked his mottled skin till it +shone again. + +It was a pretty picture,--maternal love on the one part, and happy +trust on the other. The doe was a beauty, and would have been so +considered anywhere, as graceful and winning a creature as the sun +that day shone on,--slender limbs, not too heavy flanks, round body, +and aristocratic head, with small ears, and luminous, intelligent, +affectionate eyes. How alert, supple, free, she was! What untaught +grace in every movement! What a charming pose when she lifted her +head, and turned it to regard her child! You would have had a +companion picture if you had seen, as I saw that morning, a baby +kicking about among the dry pine-needles on a ledge above the Au +Sable, in the valley below, while its young mother sat near, with an +easel before her, touching in the color of a reluctant landscape, +giving a quick look at the sky and the outline of the Twin Mountains, +and bestowing every third glance upon the laughing boy,--art in its +infancy. + +The doe lifted her head a little with a quick motion, and turned her +ear to the south. Had she heard something? Probably it was only the +south wind in the balsams. There was silence all about in the +forest. If the doe had heard anything, it was one of the distant +noises of the world. There are in the woods occasional moanings, +premonitions of change, which are inaudible to the dull ears of men, +but which, I have no doubt, the forest-folk hear and understand. If +the doe's suspicions were excited for an instant, they were gone as +soon. With an affectionate glance at her fawn, she continued picking +up her breakfast. + +But suddenly she started, head erect, eyes dilated, a tremor in her +limbs. She took a step; she turned her head to the south; she +listened intently. There was a sound,--a distant, prolonged note, +bell-toned, pervading the woods, shaking the air in smooth +vibrations. It was repeated. The doe had no doubt now. She shook +like the sensitive mimosa when a footstep approaches. It was the +baying of a hound! It was far off,--at the foot of the mountain. +Time enough to fly; time enough to put miles between her and the +hound, before he should come upon her fresh trail; time enough to +escape away through the dense forest, and hide in the recesses of +Panther Gorge; yes, time enough. But there was the fawn. The cry of +the hound was repeated, more distinct this time. The mother +instinctively bounded away a few paces. The fawn started up with an +anxious bleat: the doe turned; she came back; she couldn't leave it. +She bent over it, and licked it, and seemed to say, "Come, my child: +we are pursued: we must go." She walked away towards the west, and +the little thing skipped after her. It was slow going for the +slender legs, over the fallen logs, and through the rasping bushes. +The doe bounded in advance, and waited: the fawn scrambled after her, +slipping and tumbling along, very groggy yet on its legs, and whining +a good deal because its mother kept always moving away from it. The +fawn evidently did not hear the hound: the little innocent would even +have looked sweetly at the dog, and tried to make friends with it, if +the brute had been rushing upon him. By all the means at her command +the doe urged her young one on; but it was slow work. She might have +been a mile away while they were making a few rods. Whenever the +fawn caught up, he was quite content to frisk about. He wanted more +breakfast, for one thing; and his mother wouldn't stand still. She +moved on continually; and his weak legs were tangled in the roots of +the narrow deer-path. + +Shortly came a sound that threw the doe into a panic of terror,--a +short, sharp yelp, followed by a prolonged howl, caught up and +reechoed by other bayings along the mountain-side. The doe knew what +that meant. One hound had caught her trail, and the whole pack +responded to the "view-halloo." The danger was certain now; it was +near. She could not crawl on in this way: the dogs would soon be +upon them. She turned again for flight: the fawn, scrambling after +her, tumbled over, and bleated piteously. The baying, emphasized now +by the yelp of certainty, came nearer. Flight with the fawn was +impossible. The doe returned and stood by it, head erect, and +nostrils distended. She stood perfectly still, but trembling. +Perhaps she was thinking. The fawn took advantage of the situation, +and began to draw his luncheon ration. The doe seemed to have made +up her mind. She let him finish. The fawn, having taken all he +wanted, lay down contentedly, and the doe licked him for a moment. +Then, with the swiftness of a bird, she dashed away, and in a moment +was lost in the forest. She went in the direction of the hounds. + +According to all human calculations, she was going into the jaws of +death. So she was: all human calculations are selfish. She kept +straight on, hearing the baying every moment more distinctly. She +descended the slope of the mountain until she reached the more open +forest of hard-wood. It was freer going here, and the cry of the +pack echoed more resoundingly in the great spaces. She was going due +east, when (judging by the sound, the hounds were not far off, though +they were still hidden by a ridge) she turned short away to the +north, and kept on at a good pace. In five minutes more she heard +the sharp, exultant yelp of discovery, and then the deep-mouthed howl +of pursuit. The hounds had struck her trail where she turned, and +the fawn was safe. + +The doe was in good running condition, the ground was not bad, and +she felt the exhilaration of the chase. For the moment, fear left +her, and she bounded on with the exaltation of triumph. For a +quarter of an hour she went on at a slapping pace, clearing the +moose-bushes with bound after bound, flying over the fallen logs, +pausing neither for brook nor ravine. The baying of the hounds grew +fainter behind her. But she struck a bad piece of going, a dead-wood +slash. It was marvelous to see her skim over it, leaping among its +intricacies, and not breaking her slender legs. No other living +animal could do it. But it was killing work. She began to pant +fearfully; she lost ground. The baying of the hounds was nearer. +She climbed the hard-wood hill at a slower gait; but, once on more +level, free ground, her breath came back to her, and she stretched +away with new courage, and maybe a sort of contempt of her heavy +pursuers. + +After running at high speed perhaps half a mile farther, it occurred +to her that it would be safe now to turn to the west, and, by a wide +circuit, seek her fawn. But, at the moment, she heard a sound that +chilled her heart. It was the cry of a hound to the west of her. +The crafty brute had made the circuit of the slash, and cut off her +retreat. There was nothing to do but to keep on; and on she went, +still to the north, with the noise of the pack behind her. In five +minutes more she had passed into a hillside clearing. Cows and young +steers were grazing there. She heard a tinkle of bells. Below her, +down the mountain slope, were other clearings, broken by patches of +woods. Fences intervened; and a mile or two down lay the valley, the +shining Au Sable, and the peaceful farmhouses. That way also her +hereditary enemies were. Not a merciful heart in all that lovely +valley. She hesitated: it was only for an instant. She must cross +the Slidebrook Valley if possible, and gain the mountain opposite. +She bounded on; she stopped. What was that? From the valley ahead +came the cry of a searching hound. All the devils were loose this +morning. Every way was closed but one, and that led straight down +the mountain to the cluster of houses. Conspicuous among them was a +slender white wooden spire. The doe did not know that it was the +spire of a Christian chapel. But perhaps she thought that human pity +dwelt there, and would be more merciful than the teeth of the hounds. + + "The hounds are baying on my track: + O white man! will you send me back?" + +In a panic, frightened animals will always flee to human-kind from +the danger of more savage foes. They always make a mistake in doing +so. Perhaps the trait is the survival of an era of peace on earth; +perhaps it is a prophecy of the golden age of the future. The +business of this age is murder,--the slaughter of animals, the +slaughter of fellow-men, by the wholesale. Hilarious poets who have +never fired a gun write hunting-songs,--Ti-ra-la: and good bishops +write war-songs,--,Ave the Czar! + +The hunted doe went down the "open," clearing the fences splendidly, +flying along the stony path. It was a beautiful sight. But consider +what a shot it was! If the deer, now, could only have been caught I +No doubt there were tenderhearted people in the valley who would have +spared her life, shut her up in a stable, and petted her. Was there +one who would have let her go back to her waiting-fawn? It is the +business of civilization to tame or kill. + +The doe went on. She left the sawmill on John's Brook to her right; +she turned into a wood-path. As she approached Slide Brook, she saw +a boy standing by a tree with a raised rifle. The dogs were not in +sight; but she could hear them coming down the hill. There was no +time for hesitation. With a tremendous burst of speed she cleared +the stream, and, as she touched the bank, heard the "ping" of a rifle +bullet in the air above her. The cruel sound gave wings to the poor +thing. In a moment more she was in the opening: she leaped into the +traveled road. Which way? Below her in the wood was a load of hay: +a man and a boy, with pitchforks in their hands, were running towards +her. She turned south, and flew along the street. The town was up. +Women and children ran to the doors and windows; men snatched their +rifles; shots were fired; at the big boarding-houses, the summer +boarders, who never have anything to do, came out and cheered; a +campstool was thrown from a veranda. Some young fellows shooting at +a mark in the meadow saw the flying deer, and popped away at her; but +they were accustomed to a mark that stood still. It was all so +sudden! There were twenty people who were just going to shoot her; +when the doe leaped the road fence, and went away across a marsh +toward the foothills. It was a fearful gauntlet to run. But nobody +except the deer considered it in that light. Everybody told what he +was just going to do; everybody who had seen the performance was a +kind of hero,--everybody except the deer. For days and days it was +the subject of conversation; and the summer boarders kept their guns +at hand, expecting another deer would come to be shot at. + +The doe went away to the foothills, going now slower, and evidently +fatigued, if not frightened half to death. Nothing is so appalling +to a recluse as half a mile of summer boarders. As the deer entered +the thin woods, she saw a rabble of people start across the meadow in +pursuit. By this time, the dogs, panting, and lolling out their +tongues, came swinging along, keeping the trail, like stupids, and +consequently losing ground when the deer doubled. But, when the doe +had got into the timber, she heard the savage brutes howling across +the meadow. (It is well enough, perhaps, to say that nobody offered +to shoot the dogs.) + +The courage of the panting fugitive was not gone: she was game to the +tip of her high-bred ears. But the fearful pace at which she had +just been going told on her. Her legs trembled, and her heart beat +like a trip-hammer. She slowed her speed perforce, but still fled +industriously up the right bank of the stream. When she had gone a +couple of miles, and the dogs were evidently gaining again, she +crossed the broad, deep brook, climbed the steep left bank, and fled +on in the direction of the Mount-Marcy trail. The fording of the +river threw the hounds off for a time. She knew, by their uncertain +yelping up and down the opposite bank, that she had a little respite: +she used it, however, to push on until the baying was faint in her +ears; and then she dropped, exhausted, upon the ground. + +This rest, brief as it was, saved her life. Roused again by the +baying pack, she leaped forward with better speed, though without +that keen feeling of exhilarating flight that she had in the morning. +It was still a race for life; but the odds were in her--favor, she +thought. She did not appreciate the dogged persistence of the +hounds, nor had any inspiration told her that the race is not to the +swift. + +She was a little confused in her mind where to go; but an instinct +kept her course to the left, and consequently farther away from her +fawn. Going now slower, and now faster, as the pursuit seemed more +distant or nearer, she kept to the southwest, crossed the stream +again, left Panther Gorge on her right, and ran on by Haystack and +Skylight in the direction of the Upper Au Sable Pond. I do not know +her exact course through this maze of mountains, swamps, ravines, and +frightful wildernesses. I only know that the poor thing worked her +way along painfully, with sinking heart and unsteady limbs, lying +down "dead beat" at intervals, and then spurred on by the cry of the +remorseless dogs, until, late in the afternoon, she staggered down +the shoulder of Bartlett, and stood upon the shore of the lake. If +she could put that piece of water between her and her pursuers, she +would be safe. Had she strength to swim it? + +At her first step into the water she saw a sight that sent her back +with a bound. There was a boat mid-lake: two men were in it. One +was rowing: the other had a gun in his hand. They were looking +towards her: they had seen her. (She did not know that they had +heard the baying of hounds on the mountains, and had been lying in +wait for her an hour.) What should she do? The hounds were drawing +near. No escape that way, even if she could still run. With only a +moment's hesitation she plunged into the lake, and struck obliquely +across. Her tired legs could not propel the tired body rapidly. She +saw the boat headed for her. She turned toward the centre of the +lake. The boat turned. She could hear the rattle of the oarlocks. +It was gaining on her. Then there was a silence. Then there was a +splash of the water just ahead of her, followed by a roar round the +lake, the words "Confound it all!" and a rattle of the oars again. +The doe saw the boat nearing her. She turned irresolutely to the +shore whence she came: the dogs were lapping the water, and howling +there. She turned again to the center of the lake. + +The brave, pretty creature was quite exhausted now. In a moment +more, with a rush of water, the boat was on her, and the man at the +oars had leaned over and caught her by the tail. + +"Knock her on the head with that paddle!" he shouted to the gentleman +in the stern. + +The gentleman was a gentleman, with a kind, smooth-shaven face, and +might have been a minister of some sort of everlasting gospel. He +took the paddle in his hand. Just then the doe turned her head, and +looked at him with her great, appealing eyes. + +"I can't do it! my soul, I can't do it!" and he dropped the paddle. +"Oh, let her go!" + +"Let H. go!" was the only response of the guide as he slung the deer +round, whipped out his hunting-knife, and made a pass that severed +her jugular. + +And the gentleman ate that night of the venison. + +The buck returned about the middle of the afternoon. The fawn was +bleating piteously, hungry and lonesome. The buck was surprised. He +looked about in the forest. He took a circuit, and came back. His +doe was nowhere to be seen. He looked down at the fawn in a helpless +sort of way. The fawn appealed for his supper. The buck had nothing +whatever to give his child,--nothing but his sympathy. If he said +anything, this is what he said: "I'm the head of this family; but, +really, this is a novel case. I've nothing whatever for you. I +don't know what to do. I've the feelings of a father; but you can't +live on them. Let us travel." + +The buck walked away: the little one toddled after him. They +disappeared in the forest. + + + + +V + +A CHARACTER STUDY + +There has been a lively inquiry after the primeval man. Wanted, a +man who would satisfy the conditions of the miocene environment, and +yet would be good enough for an ancestor. We are not particular +about our ancestors, if they are sufficiently remote; but we must +have something. Failing to apprehend the primeval man, science has +sought the primitive man where he exists as a survival in present +savage races. He is, at best, only a mushroom growth of the recent +period (came in, probably, with the general raft of mammalian fauna); +but he possesses yet some rudimentary traits that may be studied. + +It is a good mental exercise to try to fix the mind on the primitive +man divested of all the attributes he has acquired in his struggles +with the other mammalian fauna. Fix the mind on an orange, the +ordinary occupation of the metaphysician: take from it (without +eating it) odor, color, weight, form, substance, and peel; then let +the mind still dwell on it as an orange. The experiment is perfectly +successful; only, at the end of it, you haven't any mind. Better +still, consider the telephone: take away from it the metallic disk, +and the magnetized iron, and the connecting wire, and then let the +mind run abroad on the telephone. The mind won't come back. I have +tried by this sort of process to get a conception of the primitive +man. I let the mind roam away back over the vast geologic spaces, +and sometimes fancy I see a dim image of him stalking across the +terrace epoch of the quaternary period. + +But this is an unsatisfying pleasure. The best results are obtained +by studying the primitive man as he is left here and there in our +era, a witness of what has been; and I find him most to my mind in +the Adirondack system of what geologists call the Champlain epoch. I +suppose the primitive man is one who owes more to nature than to the +forces of civilization. What we seek in him are the primal and +original traits, unmixed with the sophistications of society, and +unimpaired by the refinements of an artificial culture. He would +retain the primitive instincts, which are cultivated out of the +ordinary, commonplace man. I should expect to find him, by reason of +an unrelinquished kinship, enjoying a special communion with nature,- +-admitted to its mysteries, understanding its moods, and able to +predict its vagaries. He would be a kind of test to us of what we +have lost by our gregarious acquisitions. On the one hand, there +would be the sharpness of the senses, the keen instincts (which the +fox and the beaver still possess), the ability to find one's way in +the pathless forest, to follow a trail, to circumvent the wild +denizens of the woods; and, on the other hand, there would be the +philosophy of life which the primitive man, with little external aid, +would evolve from original observation and cogitation. It is our +good fortune to know such a man; but it is difficult to present him +to a scientific and caviling generation. He emigrated from somewhat +limited conditions in Vermont, at an early age, nearly half a century +ago, and sought freedom for his natural development backward in the +wilds of the Adirondacks. Sometimes it is a love of adventure and +freedom that sends men out of the more civilized conditions into the +less; sometimes it is a constitutional physical lassitude which leads +them to prefer the rod to the hoe, the trap to the sickle, and the +society of bears to town meetings and taxes. I think that Old +Mountain Phelps had merely the instincts of the primitive man, and +never any hostile civilizing intent as to the wilderness into which +he plunged. Why should he want to slash away the forest and plow up +the ancient mould, when it is infinitely pleasanter to roam about in +the leafy solitudes, or sit upon a mossy log and listen to the +chatter of birds and the stir of beasts? Are there not trout in the +streams, gum exuding from the spruce, sugar in the maples, honey in +the hollow trees, fur on the sables, warmth in hickory logs? Will +not a few days' planting and scratching in the "open" yield potatoes +and rye? And, if there is steadier diet needed than venison and +bear, is the pig an expensive animal? If Old Phelps bowed to the +prejudice or fashion of his age (since we have come out of the +tertiary state of things), and reared a family, built a frame house +in a secluded nook by a cold spring, planted about it some apple +trees and a rudimentary garden, and installed a group of flaming +sunflowers by the door, I am convinced that it was a concession that +did not touch his radical character; that is to say, it did not +impair his reluctance to split oven-wood. + +He was a true citizen of the wilderness. Thoreau would have liked +him, as he liked Indians and woodchucks, and the smell of pine +forests; and, if Old Phelps had seen Thoreau, he would probably have +said to him, "Why on airth, Mr. Thoreau, don't you live accordin' to +your preachin'?" You might be misled by the shaggy suggestion of Old +Phelps's given name--Orson--into the notion that he was a mighty +hunter, with the fierce spirit of the Berserkers in his veins. +Nothing could be farther from the truth. The hirsute and grisly +sound of Orson expresses only his entire affinity with the untamed +and the natural, an uncouth but gentle passion for the freedom and +wildness of the forest. Orson Phelps has only those unconventional +and humorous qualities of the bear which make the animal so beloved +in literature; and one does not think of Old Phelps so much as a +lover of nature,--to use the sentimental slang of the period,--as a +part of nature itself. + +His appearance at the time when as a "guide" he began to come into +public notice fostered this impression,--a sturdy figure with long +body and short legs, clad in a woolen shirt and butternut-colored +trousers repaired to the point of picturesqueness, his head +surmounted by a limp, light-brown felt hat, frayed away at the top, +so that his yellowish hair grew out of it like some nameless fern out +of a pot. His tawny hair was long and tangled, matted now many years +past the possibility of being entered by a comb. + +His features were small and delicate, and set in the frame of a +reddish beard, the razor having mowed away a clearing about the +sensitive mouth, which was not seldom wreathed with a childlike and +charming smile. Out of this hirsute environment looked the small +gray eyes, set near together; eyes keen to observe, and quick to +express change of thought; eyes that made you believe instinct can +grow into philosophic judgment. His feet and hands were of +aristocratic smallness, although the latter were not worn away by +ablutions; in fact, they assisted his toilet to give you the +impression that here was a man who had just come out of the ground,-- +a real son of the soil, whose appearance was partially explained by +his humorous relation to-soap. "Soap is a thing," he said, "that I +hain't no kinder use for." His clothes seemed to have been put on +him once for all, like the bark of a tree, a long time ago. The +observant stranger was sure to be puzzled by the contrast of this +realistic and uncouth exterior with the internal fineness, amounting +to refinement and culture, that shone through it all. What communion +had supplied the place of our artificial breeding to this man? + +Perhaps his most characteristic attitude was sitting on a log, with a +short pipe in his mouth. If ever man was formed to sit on a log, it +was Old Phelps. He was essentially a contemplative person. Walking +on a country road, or anywhere in the "open," was irksome to him. He +had a shambling, loose-jointed gait, not unlike that of the bear: his +short legs bowed out, as if they had been more in the habit of +climbing trees than of walking. On land, if we may use that +expression, he was something like a sailor; but, once in the rugged +trail or the unmarked route of his native forest, he was a different +person, and few pedestrians could compete with him. The vulgar +estimate of his contemporaries, that reckoned Old Phelps "lazy," was +simply a failure to comprehend the conditions of his being. It is +the unjustness of civilization that it sets up uniform and artificial +standards for all persons. The primitive man suffers by them much as +the contemplative philosopher does, when one happens to arrive in +this busy, fussy world. + +If the appearance of Old Phelps attracts attention, his voice, when +first heard, invariably startles the listener. A small, high- +pitched, half-querulous voice, it easily rises into the shrillest +falsetto; and it has a quality in it that makes it audible in all the +tempests of the forest, or the roar of rapids, like the piping of a +boatswain's whistle at sea in a gale. He has a way of letting it +rise as his sentence goes on, or when he is opposed in argument, or +wishes to mount above other voices in the conversation, until it +dominates everything. Heard in the depths of the woods, quavering +aloft, it is felt to be as much a part of nature, an original force, +as the northwest wind or the scream of the hen-hawk. When he is +pottering about the camp-fire, trying to light his pipe with a twig +held in the flame, he is apt to begin some philosophical observation +in a small, slow, stumbling voice, which seems about to end in +defeat; when he puts on some unsuspected force, and the sentence ends +in an insistent shriek. Horace Greeley had such a voice, and could +regulate it in the same manner. But Phelps's voice is not seldom +plaintive, as if touched by the dreamy sadness of the woods +themselves. + +When Old Mountain Phelps was discovered, he was, as the reader has +already guessed, not understood by his contemporaries. His +neighbors, farmers in the secluded valley, had many of them grown +thrifty and prosperous, cultivating the fertile meadows, and +vigorously attacking the timbered mountains; while Phelps, with not +much more faculty of acquiring property than the roaming deer, had +pursued the even tenor of the life in the forest on which he set out. +They would have been surprised to be told that Old Phelps owned more +of what makes the value of the Adirondacks than all of them put +together, but it was true. This woodsman, this trapper, this hunter, +this fisherman, this sitter on a log, and philosopher, was the real +proprietor of the region over which he was ready to guide the +stranger. It is true that he had not a monopoly of its geography or +its topography (though his knowledge was superior in these respects); +there were other trappers, and more deadly hunters, and as intrepid +guides: but Old Phelps was the discoverer of the beauties and +sublimities of the mountains; and, when city strangers broke into the +region, he monopolized the appreciation of these delights and wonders +of nature. I suppose that in all that country he alone had noticed +the sunsets, and observed the delightful processes of the seasons, +taken pleasure in the woods for themselves, and climbed mountains +solely for the sake of the prospect. He alone understood what was +meant by "scenery." In the eyes of his neighbors, who did not know +that he was a poet and a philosopher, I dare say he appeared to be a +slack provider, a rather shiftless trapper and fisherman; and his +passionate love of the forest and the mountains, if it was noticed, +was accounted to him for idleness. When the appreciative tourist +arrived, Phelps was ready, as guide, to open to him all the wonders +of his possessions; he, for the first time, found an outlet for his +enthusiasm, and a response to his own passion. It then became known +what manner of man this was who had grown up here in the +companionship of forests, mountains, and wild animals; that these +scenes had highly developed in him the love of beauty, the aesthetic +sense, delicacy of appreciation, refinement of feeling; and that, in +his solitary wanderings and musings, the primitive man, self-taught, +had evolved for himself a philosophy and a system of things. And it +was a sufficient system, so long as it was not disturbed by external +skepticism. When the outer world came to him, perhaps he had about +as much to give to it as to receive from it; probably more, in his +own estimation; for there is no conceit like that of isolation. + +Phelps loved his mountains. He was the discoverer of Marcy, and +caused the first trail to be cut to its summit, so that others could +enjoy the noble views from its round and rocky top. To him it was, +in noble symmetry and beauty, the chief mountain of the globe. To +stand on it gave him, as he said, "a feeling of heaven up-h'isted- +ness." He heard with impatience that Mount Washington was a thousand +feet higher, and he had a childlike incredulity about the surpassing +sublimity of the Alps. Praise of any other elevation he seemed to +consider a slight to Mount Marcy, and did not willingly hear it, any +more than a lover hears the laudation of the beauty of another woman +than the one he loves. When he showed us scenery he loved, it made +him melancholy to have us speak of scenery elsewhere that was finer. +And yet there was this delicacy about him, that he never over-praised +what he brought us to see, any more than one would over-praise a +friend of whom he was fond. I remember that when for the first time, +after a toilsome journey through the forest, the splendors of the +Lower Au Sable Pond broke upon our vision,--that low-lying silver +lake, imprisoned by the precipices which it reflected in its bosom,-- +he made no outward response to our burst of admiration: only a quiet +gleam of the eye showed the pleasure our appreciation gave him. As +some one said, it was as if his friend had been admired--a friend +about whom he was unwilling to say much himself, but well pleased to +have others praise. + +Thus far, we have considered Old Phelps as simply the product of the +Adirondacks; not so much a self-made man (as the doubtful phrase has +it) as a natural growth amid primal forces. But our study is +interrupted by another influence, which complicates the problem, but +increases its interest. No scientific observer, so far as we know, +has ever been able to watch the development of the primitive man, +played upon and fashioned by the hebdomadal iteration of "Greeley's +Weekly Tri-bune." Old Phelps educated by the woods is a fascinating +study; educated by the woods and the Tri-bune, he is a phenomenon. +No one at this day can reasonably conceive exactly what this +newspaper was to such a mountain valley as Keene. If it was not a +Providence, it was a Bible. It was no doubt owing to it that +Democrats became as scarce as moose in the Adirondacks. But it is +not of its political aspect that I speak. I suppose that the most +cultivated and best informed portion of the earth's surface--the +Western Reserve of Ohio, as free from conceit as it is from a +suspicion that it lacks anything owes its pre-eminence solely to this +comprehensive journal. It received from it everything except a +collegiate and a classical education,--things not to be desired, +since they interfere with the self-manufacture of man. If Greek had +been in this curriculum, its best known dictum would have been +translated, "Make thyself." This journal carried to the community +that fed on it not only a complete education in all departments of +human practice and theorizing, but the more valuable and satisfying +assurance that there was nothing more to be gleaned in the universe +worth the attention of man. This panoplied its readers in +completeness. Politics, literature, arts, sciences, universal +brotherhood and sisterhood, nothing was omitted; neither the poetry +of Tennyson, nor the philosophy of Margaret Fuller; neither the +virtues of association, nor of unbolted wheat. The laws of political +economy and trade were laid down as positively and clearly as the +best way to bake beans, and the saving truth that the millennium +would come, and come only when every foot of the earth was subsoiled. + +I do not say that Orson Phelps was the product of nature and the Tri- +bune: but he cannot be explained without considering these two +factors. To him Greeley was the Tri-bune, and the Tri-bune was +Greeley; and yet I think he conceived of Horace Greeley as something +greater than his newspaper, and perhaps capable of producing another +journal equal to it in another part of the universe. At any rate, so +completely did Phelps absorb this paper and this personality that he +was popularly known as "Greeley" in the region where he lived. +Perhaps a fancied resemblance of the two men in the popular mind had +something to do with this transfer of name. There is no doubt that +Horace Greeley owed his vast influence in the country to his genius, +nor much doubt that he owed his popularity in the rural districts to +James Gordon Bennett; that is, to the personality of the man which +the ingenious Bennett impressed upon the country. That he despised +the conventionalities of society, and was a sloven in his toilet, was +firmly believed; and the belief endeared him to the hearts of the +people. To them "the old white coat"--an antique garment of +unrenewed immortality--was as much a subject of idolatry as the +redingote grise to the soldiers of the first Napoleon, who had seen +it by the campfires on the Po and on the Borysthenes, and believed +that he would come again in it to lead them against the enemies of +France. The Greeley of the popular heart was clad as Bennett said he +was clad. It was in vain, even pathetically in vain, that he +published in his newspaper the full bill of his fashionable tailor +(the fact that it was receipted may have excited the animosity of +some of his contemporaries) to show that he wore the best broadcloth, +and that the folds of his trousers followed the city fashion of +falling outside his boots. If this revelation was believed, it made +no sort of impression in the country. The rural readers were not to +be wheedled out of their cherished conception of the personal +appearance of the philosopher of the Tri-bune. + +That the Tri-bune taught Old Phelps to be more Phelps than he would +have been without it was part of the independence-teaching mission of +Greeley's paper. The subscribers were an army, in which every man +was a general. And I am not surprised to find Old Phelps lately +rising to the audacity of criticising his exemplar. In some +recently-published observations by Phelps upon the philosophy of +reading is laid down this definition: "If I understand the necessity +or use of reading, it is to reproduce again what has been said or +proclaimed before. Hence, letters, characters, &c., are arranged in +all the perfection they possibly can be, to show how certain language +has been spoken by the, original author. Now, to reproduce by +reading, the reading should be so perfectly like the original that no +one standing out of sight could tell the reading from the first time +the language was spoken." + +This is illustrated by the highest authority at hand: I have heard as +good readers read, and as poor readers, as almost any one in this +region. If I have not heard as many, I have had a chance to hear +nearly the extreme in variety. Horace Greeley ought to have been a +good reader. Certainly but few, if any, ever knew every word of the +English language at a glance more readily than he did, or knew the +meaning of every mark of punctuation more clearly; but he could not +read proper. 'But how do you know?' says one. From the fact I heard +him in the same lecture deliver or produce remarks in his own +particular way, that, if they had been published properly in print, a +proper reader would have reproduced them again the same way. In the +midst of those remarks Mr. Greeley took up a paper, to reproduce by +reading part of a speech that some one else had made; and his reading +did not sound much more like the man that first read or made the +speech than the clatter of a nail factory sounds like a well- +delivered speech. Now, the fault was not because Mr. Greeley did not +know how to read as well as almost any man that ever lived, if not +quite: but in his youth he learned to read wrong; and, as it is ten +times harder to unlearn anything than it is to learn it, he, like +thousands of others, could never stop to unlearn it, but carried it +on through his whole life." + +Whether a reader would be thanked for reproducing one of Horace +Greeley's lectures as he delivered it is a question that cannot +detain us here; but the teaching that he ought to do so, I think, +would please Mr. Greeley. + +The first driblets of professional tourists and summer boarders who +arrived among the Adirondack Mountains a few years ago found Old +Phelps the chief and best guide of the region. Those who were eager +to throw off the usages of civilization, and tramp and camp in the +wilderness, could not but be well satisfied with the aboriginal +appearance of this guide; and when he led off into the woods, axe in +hand, and a huge canvas sack upon his shoulders, they seemed to be +following the Wandering Jew. The contents--of this sack would have +furnished a modern industrial exhibition, provisions cooked and raw, +blankets, maple-sugar, tinware, clothing, pork, Indian meal, flour, +coffee, tea, &c. Phelps was the ideal guide: he knew every foot of +the pathless forest; he knew all woodcraft, all the signs of the +weather, or, what is the same thing, how to make a Delphic prediction +about it. He was fisherman and hunter, and had been the comrade of +sportsmen and explorers; and his enthusiasm for the beauty and +sublimity of the region, and for its untamable wildness, amounted to +a passion. He loved his profession; and yet it very soon appeared +that he exercised it with reluctance for those who had neither +ideality, nor love for the woods. Their presence was a profanation +amid the scenery he loved. To guide into his private and secret +haunts a party that had no appreciation of their loveliness disgusted +him. It was a waste of his time to conduct flippant young men and +giddy girls who made a noisy and irreverent lark of the expedition. +And, for their part, they did not appreciate the benefit of being +accompanied by a poet and a philosopher. They neither understood nor +valued his special knowledge and his shrewd observations: they didn't +even like his shrill voice; his quaint talk bored them. It was true +that, at this period, Phelps had lost something of the activity of +his youth; and the habit of contemplative sitting on a log and +talking increased with the infirmities induced by the hard life of +the woodsman. Perhaps he would rather talk, either about the woods- +life or the various problems of existence, than cut wood, or busy +himself in the drudgery of the camp. His critics went so far as to +say,"Old Phelps is a fraud." They would have said the same of +Socrates. Xantippe, who never appreciated the world in which +Socrates lived, thought he was lazy. Probably Socrates could cook no +better than Old Phelps, and no doubt went "gumming" about Athens with +very little care of what was in the pot for dinner. + +If the summer visitors measured Old Phelps, he also measured them by +his own standards. He used to write out what he called "short-faced +descriptions" of his comrades in the woods, which were never so +flattering as true. It was curious to see how the various qualities +which are esteemed in society appeared in his eyes, looked at merely +in their relation to the limited world he knew, and judged by their +adaptation to the primitive life. It was a much subtler comparison +than that of the ordinary guide, who rates his traveler by his +ability to endure on a march, to carry a pack, use an oar, hit a +mark, or sing a song. Phelps brought his people to a test of their +naturalness and sincerity, tried by contact with the verities of the +woods. If a person failed to appreciate the woods, Phelps had no +opinion of him or his culture; and yet, although he was perfectly +satisfied with his own philosophy of life, worked out by close +observation of nature and study of the Tri-bune, he was always eager +for converse with superior minds, with those who had the advantage of +travel and much reading, and, above all, with those who had any +original "speckerlation." Of all the society he was ever permitted +to enjoy, I think he prized most that of Dr. Bushnell. The doctor +enjoyed the quaint and first-hand observations of the old woodsman, +and Phelps found new worlds open to him in the wide ranges of the +doctor's mind. They talked by the hour upon all sorts of themes, the +growth of the tree, the habits of wild animals, the migration of +seeds, the succession of oak and pine, not to mention theology, and +the mysteries of the supernatural. + +I recall the bearing of Old Phelps, when, several years ago, he +conducted a party to the summit of Mount Marcy by the way he had +"bushed out." This was his mountain, and he had a peculiar sense of +ownership in it. In a way, it was holy ground; and he would rather +no one should go on it who did not feel its sanctity. Perhaps it was +a sense of some divine relation in it that made him always speak of +it as "Mercy." To him this ridiculously dubbed Mount Marcy was +always "Mount Mercy." By a like effort to soften the personal +offensiveness of the nomenclature of this region, he invariably spoke +of Dix's Peak, one of the southern peaks of the range, as "Dixie." +It was some time since Phelps himself had visited his mountain; and, +as he pushed on through the miles of forest, we noticed a kind of +eagerness in the old man, as of a lover going to a rendezvous. Along +the foot of the mountain flows a clear trout stream, secluded and +undisturbed in those awful solitudes, which is the "Mercy Brook" of +the old woodsman. That day when he crossed it, in advance of his +company, he was heard to say in a low voice, as if greeting some +object of which he was shyly fond, "So, little brook, do I meet you +once more?" and when we were well up the mountain, and emerged from +the last stunted fringe of vegetation upon the rock-bound slope, I +saw Old Phelps, who was still foremost, cast himself upon the ground, +and heard him cry, with an enthusiasm that was intended for no mortal +ear, "I'm with you once again!" His great passion very rarely found +expression in any such theatrical burst. The bare summit that day +was swept by a fierce, cold wind, and lost in an occasional chilling +cloud. Some of the party, exhausted by the climb, and shivering in +the rude wind, wanted a fire kindled and a cup of tea made, and +thought this the guide's business. Fire and tea were far enough from +his thought. He had withdrawn himself quite apart, and wrapped in a +ragged blanket, still and silent as the rock he stood on, was gazing +out upon the wilderness of peaks. The view from Marcy is peculiar. +It is without softness or relief. The narrow valleys are only dark +shadows; the lakes are bits of broken mirror. From horizon to +horizon there is a tumultuous sea of billows turned to stone. You +stand upon the highest billow; you command the situation; you have +surprised Nature in a high creative act; the mighty primal energy has +only just become repose. This was a supreme hour to Old Phelps. +Tea! I believe the boys succeeded in kindling a fire; but the +enthusiastic stoic had no reason to complain of want of appreciation +in the rest of the party. When we were descending, he told us, with +mingled humor and scorn, of a party of ladies he once led to the top +of the mountain on a still day, who began immediately to talk about +the fashions! As he related the scene, stopping and facing us in the +trail, his mild, far-in eyes came to the front, and his voice rose +with his language to a kind of scream. + +"Why, there they were, right before the greatest view they ever saw, +talkin' about the fashions!" + +Impossible to convey the accent of contempt in which he pronounced +the word " fashions," and then added, with a sort of regretful +bitterness, "I was a great mind to come down, and leave 'em there." + +In common with the Greeks, Old Phelps personified the woods, +mountains, and streams. They had not only personality, but +distinctions of sex. It was something beyond the characterization of +the hunter, which appeared, for instance, when he related a fight +with a panther, in such expressions as, "Then Mr. Panther thought he +would see what he could do," etc. He was in "imaginative sympathy" +with all wild things. The afternoon we descended Marcy, we went away +to the west, through the primeval forests, toward Avalanche and +Colden, and followed the course of the charming Opalescent. When we +reached the leaping stream, Phelps exclaimed, + +"Here's little Miss Opalescent!" + +"Why don't you say Mr. Opalescent?" some one asked. + +"Oh, she's too pretty!" And too pretty she was, with her foam-white +and rainbow dress, and her downfalls, and fountainlike uprising. A +bewitching young person we found her all that summer afternoon. + +This sylph-like person had little in common with a monstrous lady +whose adventures in the wildernes Phelps was fond of relating. She +was built some thing on the plan of the mountains, and her ambition +to explore was equal to her size. Phelps and the other guides once +succeeded in raising her to the top of Marcy; but the feat of getting +a hogshead of molasses up there would have been easier. In +attempting to give us an idea of her magnitude tha night, as we sat +in the forest camp, Phelps hesitated a moment, while he cast his eye +around the woods: "Waal, there ain't no tree!" + +It is only by recalling fragmentary remarks and incidents that I can +put the reader in possession of the peculiarities of my subject; and +this involves the wrenching of things out of their natural order and +continuity, and introducing them abruptly, an abruptness illustrated +by the remark of "Old Man Hoskins" (which Phelps liked to quote), +when one day he suddenly slipped down a bank into a thicket, and +seated himself in a wasps' nest: "I hain't no business here; but here +I be!" + +The first time we went into camp on the Upper Au Sable Pond, which +has been justly celebrated as the most prettily set sheet of water in +the region, we were disposed to build our shanty on the south side, +so that we could have in full view the Gothics and that loveliest of +mountain contours. To our surprise, Old Phelps, whose sentimental +weakness for these mountains we knew, opposed this. His favorite +camping ground was on the north side,--a pretty site in itself, but +with no special view. In order to enjoy the lovely mountains, we +should be obliged to row out into the lake: we wanted them always +before our eyes,--at sunrise and sunset, and in the blaze of noon. +With deliberate speech, as if weighing our arguments and disposing of +them, he replied, "Waal, now, them Gothics ain't the kinder scenery +you want ter hog down!" + +It was on quiet Sundays in the woods, or in talks by the camp-fire, +that Phelps came out as the philosopher, and commonly contributed the +light of his observations. Unfortunate marriages, and marriages in +general, were, on one occasion, the subject of discussion; and a good +deal of darkness had been cast on it by various speakers; when Phelps +suddenly piped up, from a log where he had sat silent, almost +invisible, in the shadow and smoke, "Waal, now, when you've said all +there is to be said, marriage is mostly for discipline." + +Discipline, certainly, the old man had, in one way or another; and +years of solitary communing in the forest had given him, perhaps, a +childlike insight into spiritual concerns. Whether he had formulated +any creed or what faith he had, I never knew. Keene Valley had a +reputation of not ripening Christians any more successfully than +maize, the season there being short; and on our first visit it was +said to contain but one Bible Christian, though I think an accurate +census disclosed three. Old Phelps, who sometimes made abrupt +remarks in trying situations, was not included in this census; but he +was the disciple of supernaturalism in a most charming form. I have +heard of his opening his inmost thoughts to a lady, one Sunday, after +a noble sermon of Robertson's had been read in the cathedral +stillness of the forest. His experience was entirely first-hand, and +related with unconsciousness that it was not common to all. There +was nothing of the mystic or the sentimentalist, only a vivid +realism, in that nearness of God of which he spoke,--"as near some- +times as those trees,"--and of the holy voice, that, in a time of +inward struggle, had seemed to him to come from the depths of the +forest, saying, "Poor soul, I am the way." + +In later years there was a "revival" in Keene Valley, the result of +which was a number of young "converts," whom Phelps seemed to regard +as a veteran might raw recruits, and to have his doubts what sort of +soldiers they would make. + +"Waal, Jimmy," he said to one of them, "you've kindled a pretty good +fire with light wood. That's what we do of a dark night in the +woods, you know but we do it just so as we can look around and find +the solid wood: so now put on your solid wood." + +In the Sunday Bible classes of the period Phelps was a perpetual +anxiety to the others, who followed closely the printed lessons, and +beheld with alarm his discursive efforts to get into freer air and +light. His remarks were the most refreshing part of the exercises, +but were outside of the safe path into which the others thought it +necessary to win him from his "speckerlations." The class were one +day on the verses concerning "God's word" being "written on the +heart," and were keeping close to the shore, under the guidance of +"Barnes's Notes," when Old Phelps made a dive to the bottom, and +remarked that he had "thought a good deal about the expression, +'God's word written on the heart,' and had been asking himself how +that was to be done; and suddenly it occurred to him (having been +much interested lately in watching the work of a photographer) that, +when a photograph is going to be taken, all that has to be done is to +put the object in position, and the sun makes the picture; and so he +rather thought that all we had got to do was to put our hearts in +place, and God would do the writin'." + +Phelps's theology, like his science, is first-hand. In the woods, +one day, talk ran on the Trinity as being nowhere asserted as a +doctrine in the Bible, and some one suggested that the attempt to +pack these great and fluent mysteries into one word must always be +more or less unsatisfactory. "Ye-es," droned Phelps: "I never could +see much speckerlation in that expression the Trinity. Why, they'd a +good deal better say Legion." + +The sentiment of the man about nature, or his poetic sensibility, was +frequently not to be distinguished from a natural religion, and was +always tinged with the devoutness of Wordsworth's verse. Climbing +slowly one day up the Balcony,--he was more than usually calm and +slow,--he espied an exquisite fragile flower in the crevice of a +rock, in a very lonely spot. + +It seems as if," he said, or rather dreamed out, it seems as if the +Creator had kept something just to look at himself." + +To a lady whom he had taken to Chapel Pond (a retired but rather +uninteresting spot), and who expressed a little disappointment at its +tameness, saying, of this "Why, Mr. Phelps, the principal charm of +this place seems to be its loneliness," + +"Yes," he replied in gentle and lingering tones, and its nativeness. +It lies here just where it was born." + +Rest and quiet had infinite attractions for him. A secluded opening +in the woods was a "calm spot." He told of seeing once, or rather +being in, a circular rainbow. He stood on Indian Head, overlooking +the Lower Lake, so that he saw the whole bow in the sky and the lake, +and seemed to be in the midst of it; "only at one place there was an +indentation in it, where it rested on the lake, just enough to keep +it from rolling off." This "resting" of the sphere seemed to give +him great comfort. + +One Indian-summer morning in October, some ladies found the old man +sitting on his doorstep smoking a short pipe. + +He gave no sign of recognition except a twinkle of the eye, being +evidently quite in harmony with the peaceful day. They stood there a +full minute before he opened his mouth: then he did not rise, but +slowly took his pipe from his mouth, and said in a dreamy way, +pointing towards the brook,-- + +"Do you see that tree?" indicating a maple almost denuded of leaves, +which lay like a yellow garment cast at its feet. "I've been +watching that tree all the morning. There hain't been a breath of +wind: but for hours the leaves have been falling, falling, just as +you see them now; and at last it's pretty much bare." And after a +pause, pensively: "Waal, I suppose its hour had come." + +This contemplative habit of Old Phelps is wholly unappreciated by his +neighbors; but it has been indulged in no inconsiderable part of his +life. Rising after a time, he said, "Now I want you to go with me +and see my golden city I've talked so much about." He led the way to +a hill-outlook, when suddenly, emerging from the forest, the +spectators saw revealed the winding valley and its stream. He said +quietly, "There is my golden city." Far below, at their feet, they +saw that vast assemblage of birches and "popples," yellow as gold in +the brooding noonday, and slender spires rising out of the glowing +mass. Without another word, Phelps sat a long time in silent +content: it was to him, as Bunyan says, "a place desirous to be in." + +Is this philosopher contented with what life has brought him? +Speaking of money one day, when we had asked him if he should do +differently if he had his life to live over again, he said, "Yes, but +not about money. To have had hours such as I have had in these +mountains, and with such men as Dr. Bushnell and Dr. Shaw and Mr. +Twichell, and others I could name, is worth all the money the world +could give." He read character very well, and took in accurately the +boy nature. "Tom" (an irrepressible, rather overdone specimen),--" +Tom's a nice kind of a boy; but he's got to come up against a +snubbin'-post one of these days."--"Boys!" he once said: "you can't +git boys to take any kinder notice of scenery. I never yet saw a boy +that would look a second time at a sunset. Now, a girl will some +times; but even then it's instantaneous,--comes an goes like the +sunset. As for me," still speaking of scenery, "these mountains +about here, that I see every day, are no more to me, in one sense, +than a man's farm is to him. What mostly interests me now is when I +see some new freak or shape in the face of Nature." + +In literature it may be said that Old Phelps prefers the best in the +very limited range that has been open to him. Tennyson is his +favorite among poets an affinity explained by the fact that they are +both lotos-eaters. Speaking of a lecture-room talk of Mr. Beecher's +which he had read, he said, "It filled my cup about as full as I +callerlate to have it: there was a good deal of truth in it, and some +poetry; waal, and a little spice, too. We've got to have the spice, +you know." He admired, for different reasons, a lecture by Greeley +that he once heard, into which so much knowledge of various kinds was +crowded that he said he "made a reg'lar gobble of it." He was not +without discrimination, which he exercised upon the local preaching +when nothing better offered. Of one sermon he said, "The man began +way back at the creation, and just preached right along down; and he +didn't say nothing, after all. It just seemed to me as if he was +tryin' to git up a kind of a fix-up." + +Old Phelps used words sometimes like algebraic signs, and had a habit +of making one do duty for a season together for all occasions. +"Speckerlation" and "callerlation" and "fix-up" are specimens of +words that were prolific in expression. An unusual expression, or an +unusual article, would be charactcrized as a "kind of a scientific +literary git-up." + +"What is the program for tomorrow?" I once asked him. " Waal, I +callerlate, if they rig up the callerlation they callerlate on, we'll +go to the Boreas." Starting out for a day's tramp in the woods, he +would ask whether we wanted to take a "reg'lar walk, or a random +scoot,"--the latter being a plunge into the pathless forest. When he +was on such an expedition, and became entangled in dense brush, and +maybe a network of "slash" and swamp, he was like an old wizard, as +he looked here and there, seeking a way, peering into the tangle, or +withdrawing from a thicket, and muttering to himself, "There ain't no +speckerlation there." And when the way became altogether +inscrutable,--"Waal, this is a reg'lar random scoot of a rigmarole." +As some one remarked, "The dictionary in his hands is like clay in +the hands of the potter." A petrifaction was a kind of a hard-wood +chemical git-up." + +There is no conceit, we are apt to say, like that born of isolation +from the world, and there are no such conceited people as those who +have lived all their lives in the woods. Phelps was, however, +unsophisticated in his until the advent of strangers into his life, +who brought in literature and various other disturbing influences. I +am sorry to say that the effect has been to take off something of the +bloom of his simplicity, and to elevate him into an oracle. I +suppose this is inevitable as soon as one goes into print; and Phelps +has gone into print in the local papers. He has been bitten with the +literary "git up." Justly regarding most of the Adirondack +literature as a "perfect fizzle," he has himself projected a work, +and written much on the natural history of his region. Long ago he +made a large map of the mountain country; and, until recent surveys, +it was the only one that could lay any claim to accuracy. His +history is no doubt original in form, and unconventional in +expression. Like most of the writers of the seventeenth century, and +the court ladies and gentlemen of the eighteenth century, he is an +independent speller. Writing of his work on the Adirondacks, he +says, "If I should ever live to get this wonderful thing written, I +expect it will show one thing, if no more; and that is, that every +thing has an opposite. I expect to show in this that literature has +an opposite, if I do not show any thing els. We could not enjoy the +blessings and happiness of riteousness if we did not know innicuty +was in the world: in fact, there would be no riteousness without +innicuty." Writing also of his great enjoyment of being in the +woods, especially since he has had the society there of some people +he names, he adds, "And since I have Literature, Siance, and Art all +spread about on the green moss of the mountain woods or the gravell +banks of a cristle stream, it seems like finding roses, honeysuckels, +and violets on a crisp brown cliff in December. You know I don't +believe much in the religion of seramony; but any riteous thing that +has life and spirit in it is food for me." I must not neglect to +mention an essay, continued in several numbers of his local paper, on +"The Growth of the Tree," in which he demolishes the theory of Mr. +Greeley, whom he calls "one of the best vegetable philosophers," +about "growth without seed." He treats of the office of sap: "All +trees have some kind of sap and some kind of operation of sap flowing +in their season," the dissemination of seeds, the processes of +growth, the power of healing wounds, the proportion of roots to +branches, &c. Speaking of the latter, he says, "I have thought it +would be one of the greatest curiosities on earth to see a thrifty +growing maple or elm, that had grown on a deep soil interval to be +two feet in diameter, to be raised clear into the air with every root +and fibre down to the minutest thread, all entirely cleared of soil, +so that every particle could be seen in its natural position. I +think it would astonish even the wise ones." From his instinctive +sympathy with nature, he often credits vegetable organism with +"instinctive judgment." " Observation teaches us that a tree is +given powerful instincts, which would almost appear to amount to +judgment in some cases, to provide for its own wants and +necessities." + +Here our study must cease. When the primitive man comes into +literature, he is no longer primitive. + + + + +VI + +CAMPING OUT + +It seems to be agreed that civilization is kept up only by a constant +effort: Nature claims its own speedily when the effort is relaxed. +If you clear a patch of fertile ground in the forest, uproot the +stumps, and plant it, year after year, in potatoes and maize, you say +you have subdued it. But, if you leave it for a season or two, a +kind of barbarism seems to steal out upon it from the circling woods; +coarse grass and brambles cover it; bushes spring up in a wild +tangle; the raspberry and the blackberry flower and fruit; and the +humorous bear feeds upon them. The last state of that ground is +worse than the first. + +Perhaps the cleared spot is called Ephesus. There is a splendid city +on the plain; there are temples and theatres on the hills; the +commerce of the world seeks its port; the luxury of the Orient flows +through its marble streets. You are there one day when the sea has +receded: the plain is a pestilent marsh; the temples, the theatres, +the lofty gates have sunken and crumbled, and the wild-brier runs +over them; and, as you grow pensive in the most desolate place in the +world, a bandit lounges out of a tomb, and offers to relieve you of +all that which creates artificial distinctions in society. The +higher the civilization has risen, the more abject is the desolation +of barbarism that ensues. The most melancholy spot in the +Adirondacks is not a tamarack-swamp, where the traveler wades in moss +and mire, and the atmosphere is composed of equal active parts of +black-flies, mosquitoes, and midges. It is the village of the +Adirondack Iron-Works, where the streets of gaunt houses are falling +to pieces, tenantless; the factory-wheels have stopped; the furnaces +are in ruins; the iron and wooden machinery is strewn about in +helpless detachment; and heaps of charcoal, ore, and slag proclaim an +arrested industry. Beside this deserted village, even Calamity Pond, +shallow, sedgy, with its ragged shores of stunted firs, and its +melancholy shaft that marks the spot where the proprietor of the +iron-works accidentally shot himself, is cheerful. + +The instinct of barbarism that leads people periodically to throw +aside the habits of civilization, and seek the freedom and discomfort +of the woods, is explicable enough; but it is not so easy to +understand why this passion should be strongest in those who are most +refined, and most trained in intellectual and social fastidiousness. +Philistinism and shoddy do not like the woods, unless it becomes +fashionable to do so; and then, as speedily as possible, they +introduce their artificial luxuries, and reduce the life in the +wilderness to the vulgarity of a well-fed picnic. It is they who +have strewn the Adirondacks with paper collars and tin cans. The +real enjoyment of camping and tramping in the woods lies in a return +to primitive conditions of lodging, dress, and food, in as total an +escape as may be from the requirements of civilization. And it +remains to be explained why this is enjoyed most by those who are +most highly civilized. It is wonderful to see how easily the +restraints of society fall off. Of course it is not true that +courtesy depends upon clothes with the best people; but, with others, +behavior hangs almost entirely upon dress. Many good habits are +easily got rid of in the woods. Doubt sometimes seems to be felt +whether Sunday is a legal holiday there. It becomes a question of +casuistry with a clergyman whether he may shoot at a mark on Sunday, +if none of his congregation are present. He intends no harm: he only +gratifies a curiosity to see if he can hit the mark. Where shall he +draw the line? Doubtless he might throw a stone at a chipmunk, or +shout at a loon. Might he fire at a mark with an air-gun that makes +no noise? He will not fish or hunt on Sunday (although he is no more +likely to catch anything that day than on any other); but may he eat +trout that the guide has caught on Sunday, if the guide swears he +caught them Saturday night? Is there such a thing as a vacation in +religion? How much of our virtue do we owe to inherited habits? + +I am not at all sure whether this desire to camp outside of +civilization is creditable to human nature, or otherwise. We hear +sometimes that the Turk has been merely camping for four centuries in +Europe. I suspect that many of us are, after all, really camping +temporarily in civilized conditions; and that going into the +wilderness is an escape, longed for, into our natural and preferred +state. Consider what this " camping out " is, that is confessedly so +agreeable to people most delicately reared. I have no desire to +exaggerate its delights. + +The Adirondack wilderness is essentially unbroken. A few bad roads +that penetrate it, a few jolting wagons that traverse them, a few +barn-like boarding-houses on the edge of the forest, where the +boarders are soothed by patent coffee, and stimulated to unnatural +gayety by Japan tea, and experimented on by unique cookery, do little +to destroy the savage fascination of the region. In half an hour, at +any point, one can put himself into solitude and every desirable +discomfort. The party that covets the experience of the camp comes +down to primitive conditions of dress and equipment. There are +guides and porters to carry the blankets for beds, the raw +provisions, and the camp equipage; and the motley party of the +temporarily decivilized files into the woods, and begins, perhaps by +a road, perhaps on a trail, its exhilarating and weary march. The +exhilaration arises partly from the casting aside of restraint, +partly from the adventure of exploration; and the weariness, from the +interminable toil of bad walking, a heavy pack, and the grim monotony +of trees and bushes, that shut out all prospect, except an occasional +glimpse of the sky. Mountains are painfully climbed, streams forded, +lonesome lakes paddled over, long and muddy "carries" traversed. +Fancy this party the victim of political exile, banished by the law, +and a more sorrowful march could not be imagined; but the voluntary +hardship becomes pleasure, and it is undeniable that the spirits of +the party rise as the difficulties increase. + +For this straggling and stumbling band the world is young again: it +has come to the beginning of things; it has cut loose from tradition, +and is free to make a home anywhere: the movement has all the promise +of a revolution. All this virginal freshness invites the primitive +instincts of play and disorder. The free range of the forests +suggests endless possibilities of exploration and possession. +Perhaps we are treading where man since the creation never trod +before; perhaps the waters of this bubbling spring, which we deepen +by scraping out the decayed leaves and the black earth, have never +been tasted before, except by the wild denizens of these woods. We +cross the trails of lurking animals,--paths that heighten our sense +of seclusion from the world. The hammering of the infrequent +woodpecker, the call of the lonely bird, the drumming of the solitary +partridge,--all these sounds do but emphasize the lonesomeness of +nature. The roar of the mountain brook, dashing over its bed of +pebbles, rising out of the ravine, and spreading, as it were, a mist +of sound through all the forest (continuous beating waves that have +the rhythm of eternity in them), and the fitful movement of the air- +tides through the balsams and firs and the giant pines,--how these +grand symphonies shut out the little exasperations of our vexed life! +It seems easy to begin life over again on the simplest terms. +Probably it is not so much the desire of the congregation to escape +from the preacher, or of the preacher to escape from himself, that +drives sophisticated people into the wilderness, as it is the +unconquered craving for primitive simplicity, the revolt against the +everlasting dress-parade of our civilization. From this monstrous +pomposity even the artificial rusticity of a Petit Trianon is a +relief. It was only human nature that the jaded Frenchman of the +regency should run away to the New World, and live in a forest-hut +with an Indian squaw; although he found little satisfaction in his +act of heroism, unless it was talked about at Versailles. + +When our trampers come, late in the afternoon, to the bank of a +lovely lake where they purpose to enter the primitive life, +everything is waiting for them in virgin expectation. There is a +little promontory jutting into the lake, and sloping down to a sandy +beach, on which the waters idly lapse, and shoals of red-fins and +shiners come to greet the stranger; the forest is untouched by the +axe; the tender green sweeps the water's edge; ranks of slender firs +are marshaled by the shore; clumps of white-birch stems shine in +satin purity among the evergreens; the boles of giant spruces, +maples, and oaks, lifting high their crowns of foliage, stretch away +in endless galleries and arcades; through the shifting leaves the +sunshine falls upon the brown earth; overhead are fragments of blue +sky; under the boughs and in chance openings appear the bluer lake +and the outline of the gracious mountains. The discoverers of this +paradise, which they have entered to destroy, note the babbling of +the brook that flows close at hand; they hear the splash of the +leaping fish; they listen to the sweet, metallic song of the evening +thrush, and the chatter of the red squirrel, who angrily challenges +their right to be there. But the moment of sentiment passes. This +party has come here to eat and to sleep, and not to encourage Nature +in her poetic attitudinizing. + +The spot for a shanty is selected. This side shall be its opening, +towards the lake; and in front of it the fire, so that the smoke +shall drift into the hut, and discourage the mosquitoes; yonder shall +be the cook's fire and the path to the spring. The whole colony +bestir themselves in the foundation of a new home,--an enterprise +that has all the fascination, and none of the danger, of a veritable +new settlement in the wilderness. The axes of the guides resound in +the echoing spaces; great trunks fall with a crash; vistas are opened +towards the lake and the mountains. The spot for the shanty is +cleared of underbrush; forked stakes are driven into the ground, +cross-pieces are laid on them, and poles sloping back to the ground. +In an incredible space of time there is the skeleton of a house, +which is entirely open in front. The roof and sides must be covered. +For this purpose the trunks of great spruces are skinned. The +woodman rims the bark near the foot of the tree, and again six feet +above, and slashes it perpendicularly; then, with a blunt stick, he +crowds off this thick hide exactly as an ox is skinned. It needs but +a few of these skins to cover the roof; and they make a perfectly +water-tight roof, except when it rains. Meantime busy hands have +gathered boughs of the spruce and the feathery balsam, and shingled +the ground underneath the shanty for a bed. It is an aromatic bed: +in theory it is elastic and consoling. Upon it are spread the +blankets. The sleepers, of all sexes and ages, are to lie there in a +row, their feet to the fire, and their heads under the edge of the +sloping roof. Nothing could be better contrived. The fire is in +front: it is not a fire, but a conflagration--a vast heap of green +logs set on fire--of pitch, and split dead-wood, and crackling +balsams, raging and roaring. By the time, twilight falls, the cook +has prepared supper. Everything has been cooked in a tin pail and a +skillet,--potatoes, tea, pork, mutton, slapjacks. You wonder how +everything could have been prepared in so few utensils. When you +eat, the wonder ceases: everything might have been cooked in one +pail. It is a noble meal; and nobly is it disposed of by these +amateur savages, sitting about upon logs and roots of trees. Never +were there such potatoes, never beans that seemed to have more of the +bean in them, never such curly pork, never trout with more Indian- +meal on them, never mutton more distinctly sheepy; and the tea, drunk +out of a tin cup, with a lump of maple-sugar dissolved in it,--it is +the sort of tea that takes hold, lifts the hair, and disposes the +drinker to anecdote and hilariousness. There is no deception about +it: it tastes of tannin and spruce and creosote. Everything, in +short, has the flavor of the wilderness and a free life. It is +idyllic. And yet, with all our sentimentality, there is nothing +feeble about the cooking. The slapjacks are a solid job of work, +made to last, and not go to pieces in a person's stomach like a +trivial bun: we might record on them, in cuneiform characters, our +incipient civilization; and future generations would doubtless turn +them up as Acadian bricks. Good, robust victuals are what the +primitive man wants. + +Darkness falls suddenly. Outside the ring of light from our +conflagration the woods are black. There is a tremendous impression +of isolation and lonesomeness in our situation. We are the prisoners +of the night. The woods never seemed so vast and mysterious. The +trees are gigantic. There are noises that we do not understand,-- +mysterious winds passing overhead, and rambling in the great +galleries, tree-trunks grinding against each other, undefinable stirs +and uneasinesses. The shapes of those who pass into the dimness are +outlined in monstrous proportions. The spectres, seated about in the +glare of the fire, talk about appearances and presentiments and +religion. The guides cheer the night with bear-fights, and catamount +encounters, and frozen-to-death experiences, and simple tales of +great prolixity and no point, and jokes of primitive lucidity. We +hear catamounts, and the stealthy tread of things in the leaves, and +the hooting of owls, and, when the moon rises, the laughter of the +loon. Everything is strange, spectral, fascinating. + +By and by we get our positions in the shanty for the night, and +arrange the row of sleepers. The shanty has become a smoke-house by +this time: waves of smoke roll into it from the fire. It is only by +lying down, and getting the head well under the eaves, that one can +breathe. No one can find her "things"; nobody has a pillow. At +length the row is laid out, with the solemn protestation of intention +to sleep. The wind, shifting, drives away the smoke. + +Good-night is said a hundred times; positions are readjusted, more +last words, new shifting about, final remarks; it is all so +comfortable and romantic; and then silence. Silence continues for a +minute. The fire flashes up; all the row of heads is lifted up +simultaneously to watch it; showers of sparks sail aloft into the +blue night; the vast vault of greenery is a fairy spectacle. How the +sparks mount and twinkle and disappear like tropical fireflies, and +all the leaves murmur, and clap their hands! Some of the sparks do +not go out: we see them flaming in the sky when the flame of the fire +has died down. Well, good-night, goodnight. More folding of the +arms to sleep; more grumbling about the hardness of a hand-bag, or +the insufficiency of a pocket-handkerchief, for a pillow. Good- +night. Was that a remark?--something about a root, a stub in the +ground sticking into the back. "You couldn't lie along a hair?"--- +"Well, no: here's another stub. It needs but a moment for the +conversation to become general,--about roots under the shoulder, +stubs in the back, a ridge on which it is impossible for the sleeper +to balance, the non-elasticity of boughs, the hardness of the ground, +the heat, the smoke, the chilly air. Subjects of remarks multiply. +The whole camp is awake, and chattering like an aviary. The owl is +also awake; but the guides who are asleep outside make more noise +than the owls. Water is wanted, and is handed about in a dipper. +Everybody is yawning; everybody is now determined to go to sleep in +good earnest. A last good-night. There is an appalling silence. It +is interrupted in the most natural way in the world. Somebody has +got the start, and gone to sleep. He proclaims the fact. He seems +to have been brought up on the seashore, and to know how to make all +the deep-toned noises of the restless ocean. He is also like a war- +horse; or, it is suggested, like a saw-horse. How malignantly he +snorts, and breaks off short, and at once begins again in another +key! One head is raised after another. + +"Who is that?" + +"Somebody punch him." + +"Turn him over." + +"Reason with him." + +The sleeper is turned over. The turn was a mistake. He was before, +it appears, on his most agreeable side. The camp rises in +indignation. The sleeper sits up in bewilderment. Before he can go +off again, two or three others have preceded him. They are all +alike. You never can judge what a person is when he is awake. There +are here half a dozen disturbers of the peace who should be put in +solitary confinement. At midnight, when a philosopher crawls out to +sit on a log by the fire, and smoke a pipe, a duet in tenor and +mezzo-soprano is going on in the shanty, with a chorus always coming +in at the wrong time. Those who are not asleep want to know why the +smoker doesn't go to bed. He is requested to get some water, to +throw on another log, to see what time it is, to note whether it +looks like rain. A buzz of conversation arises. She is sure she +heard something behind the shanty. He says it is all nonsense. +"Perhaps, however, it might be a mouse." + +"Mercy! Are there mice?" + +"Plenty." + +"Then that's what I heard nibbling by my head. I shan't sleep a +wink! Do they bite?" + +"No, they nibble; scarcely ever take a full bite out." + +"It's horrid!" + +Towards morning it grows chilly; the guides have let the fire go out; +the blankets will slip down. Anxiety begins to be expressed about +the dawn. + +"What time does the sun rise?" + +"Awful early. Did you sleep? + +"Not a wink. And you?" + +"In spots. I'm going to dig up this root as soon as it is light +enough." + +"See that mist on the lake, and the light just coming on the Gothics! +I'd no idea it was so cold: all the first part of the night I was +roasted." + +"What were they talking about all night? + +When the party crawls out to the early breakfast, after it has washed +its faces in the lake, it is disorganized, but cheerful. Nobody +admits much sleep; but everybody is refreshed, and declares it +delightful. It is the fresh air all night that invigorates; or maybe +it is the tea, or the slap-jacks. The guides have erected a table of +spruce bark, with benches at the sides; so that breakfast is taken in +form. It is served on tin plates and oak chips. After breakfast +begins the day's work. It may be a mountain-climbing expedition, or +rowing and angling in the lake, or fishing for trout in some stream +two or three miles distant. Nobody can stir far from camp without a +guide. Hammocks are swung, bowers are built novel-reading begins, +worsted work appears, cards are shuffled and dealt. The day passes +in absolute freedom from responsibility to one's self. At night when +the expeditions return, the camp resumes its animation. Adventures +are recounted, every statement of the narrator being disputed and +argued. Everybody has become an adept in woodcraft; but nobody +credits his neighbor with like instinct. Society getting resolved +into its elements, confidence is gone. + +Whilst the hilarious party are at supper, a drop or two of rain +falls. The head guide is appealed to. Is it going to rain? He says +it does rain. But will it be a rainy night? The guide goes down to +the lake, looks at the sky, and concludes that, if the wind shifts a +p'int more, there is no telling what sort of weather we shall have. +Meantime the drops patter thicker on the leaves overhead, and the +leaves, in turn, pass the water down to the table; the sky darkens; +the wind rises; there is a kind of shiver in the woods; and we scud +away into the shanty, taking the remains of our supper, and eating it +as best we can. The rain increases. The fire sputters and fumes. +All the trees are dripping, dripping, and the ground is wet. We +cannot step outdoors without getting a drenching. Like sheep, we are +penned in the little hut, where no one can stand erect. The rain +swirls into the open front, and wets the bottom of the blankets. The +smoke drives in. We curl up, and enjoy ourselves. The guides at +length conclude that it is going to be damp. The dismal situation +sets us all into good spirits; and it is later than the night before +when we crawl under our blankets, sure this time of a sound sleep, +lulled by the storm and the rain resounding on the bark roof. How +much better off we are than many a shelter-less wretch! We are as +snug as dry herrings. At the moment, however, of dropping off to +sleep, somebody unfortunately notes a drop of water on his face; this +is followed by another drop; in an instant a stream is established. +He moves his head to a dry place. Scarcely has he done so, when he +feels a dampness in his back. Reaching his hand outside, he finds a +puddle of water soaking through his blanket. By this time, somebody +inquires if it is possible that the roof leaks. One man has a stream +of water under him; another says it is coming into his ear. The roof +appears to be a discriminating sieve. Those who are dry see no need +of such a fuss. The man in the corner spreads his umbrella, and the +protective measure is resented by his neighbor. In the darkness +there is recrimination. One of the guides, who is summoned, suggests +that the rubber blankets be passed out, and spread over the roof. +The inmates dislike the proposal, saying that a shower-bath is no +worse than a tub-bath. The rain continues to soak down. The fire is +only half alive. The bedding is damp. Some sit up, if they can find +a dry spot to sit on, and smoke. Heartless observations are made. A +few sleep. And the night wears on. The morning opens cheerless. +The sky is still leaking, and so is the shanty. The guides bring in +a half-cooked breakfast. The roof is patched up. There are reviving +signs of breaking away, delusive signs that create momentary +exhilaration. Even if the storm clears, the woods are soaked. There +is no chance of stirring. The world is only ten feet square. + +This life, without responsibility or clean clothes, may continue as +long as the reader desires. There are, those who would like to live +in this free fashion forever, taking rain and sun as heaven pleases; +and there are some souls so constituted that they cannot exist more +than three days without their worldly--baggage. Taking the party +altogether, from one cause or another it is likely to strike camp +sooner than was intended. And the stricken camp is a melancholy +sight. The woods have been despoiled; the stumps are ugly; the +bushes are scorched; the pine-leaf-strewn earth is trodden into mire; +the landing looks like a cattle-ford; the ground is littered with all +the unsightly dibris of a hand-to-hand life; the dismantled shanty is +a shabby object; the charred and blackened logs, where the fire +blazed, suggest the extinction of family life. Man has wrought his +usual wrong upon Nature, and he can save his self-respect only by +moving to virgin forests. + +And move to them he will, the next season, if not this. For he who +has once experienced the fascination of the woods-life never escapes +its enticement: in the memory nothing remains but its charm. + + + + +VII + +A WILDERNESS ROMANCE + +At the south end of Keene Valley, in the Adirondacks, stands Noon +Mark, a shapely peak thirty-five hundred feet above the sea, which, +with the aid of the sun, tells the Keene people when it is time to +eat dinner. From its summit you look south into a vast wilderness +basin, a great stretch of forest little trodden, and out of whose +bosom you can hear from the heights on a still day the loud murmur of +the Boquet. This basin of unbroken green rises away to the south and +southeast into the rocky heights of Dix's Peak and Nipple Top,--the +latter a local name which neither the mountain nor the fastidious +tourist is able to shake off. Indeed, so long as the mountain keeps +its present shape as seen from the southern lowlands, it cannot get +on without this name. + +These two mountains, which belong to the great system of which Marcy +is the giant centre, and are in the neighborhood of five thousand +feet high, on the southern outposts of the great mountains, form the +gate-posts of the pass into the south country. This opening between +them is called Hunter's Pass. It is the most elevated and one of the +wildest of the mountain passes. Its summit is thirty-five hundred +feet high. In former years it is presumed the hunters occasionally +followed the game through; but latterly it is rare to find a guide +who has been that way, and the tin-can and paper-collar tourists have +not yet made it a runway. This seclusion is due not to any inherent +difficulty of travel, but to the fact that it lies a little out of +the way. + +We went through it last summer; making our way into the jaws from the +foot of the great slides on Dix, keeping along the ragged spurs of +the mountain through the virgin forest. The pass is narrow, walled +in on each side by precipices of granite, and blocked up with +bowlders and fallen trees, and beset with pitfalls in the roads +ingeniously covered with fair-seeming moss. When the climber +occasionally loses sight of a leg in one of these treacherous holes, +and feels a cold sensation in his foot, he learns that he has dipped +into the sources of the Boquet, which emerges lower down into falls +and rapids, and, recruited by creeping tributaries, goes brawling +through the forest basin, and at last comes out an amiable and boat- +bearing stream in the valley of Elizabeth Town. From the summit +another rivulet trickles away to the south, and finds its way through +a frightful tamarack swamp, and through woods scarred by ruthless +lumbering, to Mud Pond, a quiet body of water, with a ghastly fringe +of dead trees, upon which people of grand intentions and weak +vocabulary are trying to fix the name of Elk Lake. The descent of +the pass on that side is precipitous and exciting. The way is in the +stream itself; and a considerable portion of the distance we swung +ourselves down the faces of considerable falls, and tumbled down +cascades. The descent, however, was made easy by the fact that it +rained, and every footstep was yielding and slippery. Why sane +people, often church-members respectably connected, will subject +themselves to this sort of treatment,--be wet to the skin, bruised by +the rocks, and flung about among the bushes and dead wood until the +most necessary part of their apparel hangs in shreds,--is one of the +delightful mysteries of these woods. I suspect that every man is at +heart a roving animal, and likes, at intervals, to revert to the +condition of the bear and the catamount. + +There is no trail through Hunter's Pass, which, as I have intimated, +is the least frequented portion of this wilderness. Yet we were +surprised to find a well-beaten path a considerable portion of the +way and wherever a path is possible. It was not a mere deer's +runway: these are found everywhere in the mountains. It is trodden +by other and larger animals, and is, no doubt, the highway of beasts. +It bears marks of having been so for a long period, and probably a +period long ago. Large animals are not common in these woods now, +and you seldom meet anything fiercer than the timid deer and the +gentle bear. But in days gone by, Hunter's Pass was the highway of +the whole caravan of animals who were continually going backward; and +forwards, in the aimless, roaming way that beasts have, between Mud +Pond and the Boquet Basin. I think I can see now the procession of +them between the heights of Dix and Nipple Top; the elk and the moose +shambling along, cropping the twigs; the heavy bear lounging by with +his exploring nose; the frightened deer trembling at every twig that +snapped beneath his little hoofs, intent on the lily-pads of the +pond; the raccoon and the hedgehog, sidling along; and the velvet- +footed panther, insouciant and conscienceless, scenting the path with +a curious glow in his eye, or crouching in an overhanging tree ready +to drop into the procession at the right moment. Night and day, year +after year, I see them going by, watched by the red fox and the +comfortably clad sable, and grinned at by the black cat,--the +innocent, the vicious, the timid and the savage, the shy and the +bold, the chattering slanderer and the screaming prowler, the +industrious and the peaceful, the tree-top critic and the crawling +biter,--just as it is elsewhere. It makes me blush for my species +when I think of it. This charming society is nearly extinct now: of +the larger animals there only remain the bear, who minds his own +business more thoroughly than any person I know, and the deer, who +would like to be friendly with men, but whose winning face and gentle +ways are no protection from the savageness of man, and who is treated +with the same unpitying destruction as the snarling catamount. I +have read in history that the amiable natives of Hispaniola fared no +better at the hands of the brutal Spaniards than the fierce and +warlike Caribs. As society is at present constituted in Christian +countries, I would rather for my own security be a cougar than a +fawn. + +There is not much of romantic interest in the Adirondacks. Out of +the books of daring travelers, nothing. I do not know that the Keene +Valley has any history. The mountains always stood here, and the Au +Sable, flowing now in shallows and now in rippling reaches over the +sands and pebbles, has for ages filled the air with continuous and +soothing sounds. Before the Vermonters broke into it some three- +quarters of a century ago, and made meadows of its bottoms and sugar- +camps of its fringing woods, I suppose the red Indian lived here in +his usual discomfort, and was as restless as his successors, the +summer boarders. But the streams were full of trout then, and the +moose and the elk left their broad tracks on the sands of the river. +But of the Indian there is no trace. There is a mound in the valley, +much like a Tel in the country of Bashan beyond the Jordan, that may +have been built by some pre-historic race, and may contain treasure +and the seated figure of a preserved chieftain on his slow way to +Paradise. What the gentle and accomplished race of the Mound- +Builders should want in this savage region where the frost kills the +early potatoes and stunts the scanty oats, I do not know. I have +seen no trace of them, except this Tel, and one other slight relic, +which came to light last summer, and is not enough to found the +history of a race upon. + +Some workingmen, getting stone from the hillside on one of the little +plateaus, for a house-cellar, discovered, partly embedded, a piece of +pottery unique in this region. With the unerring instinct of workmen +in regard to antiquities, they thrust a crowbar through it, and broke +the bowl into several pieces. The joint fragments, however, give us +the form of the dish. It is a bowl about nine inches high and eight +inches across, made of red clay, baked but not glazed. The bottom is +round, the top flares into four comers, and the rim is rudely but +rather artistically ornamented with criss-cross scratches made when +the clay was soft. The vessel is made of clay not found about here, +and it is one that the Indians formerly living here could not form. +Was it brought here by roving Indians who may have made an expedition +to the Ohio; was it passed from tribe to tribe; or did it belong to a +race that occupied the country before the Indian, and who have left +traces of their civilized skill in pottery scattered all over the +continent ? + +If I could establish the fact that this jar was made by a prehistoric +race, we should then have four generations in this lovely valley:-the +amiable Pre-Historic people (whose gentle descendants were probably +killed by the Spaniards in the West Indies); the Red Indians; the +Keene Flaters (from Vermont); and the Summer Boarders, to say nothing +of the various races of animals who have been unable to live here +since the advent of the Summer Boarders, the valley being not +productive enough to sustain both. This last incursion has been more +destructive to the noble serenity of the forest than all the +preceding. + +But we are wandering from Hunter's Pass. The western walls of it are +formed by the precipices of Nipple Top, not so striking nor so bare +as the great slides of Dix which glisten in the sun like silver, but +rough and repelling, and consequently alluring. I have a great +desire to scale them. I have always had an unreasonable wish to +explore the rough summit of this crabbed hill, which is too broken +and jagged for pleasure and not high enough for glory. This desire +was stimulated by a legend related by our guide that night in the Mud +Pond cabin. The guide had never been through the pass before; +although he was familiar with the region, and had ascended Nipple Top +in the winter in pursuit of the sable. The story he told doesn't +amount to much, none of the guides' stories do, faithfully reported, +and I should not have believed it if I had not had a good deal of +leisure on my hands at the time, and been of a willing mind, and I +may say in rather of a starved condition as to any romance in this +region. + +The guide said then--and he mentioned it casually, in reply to our +inquiries about ascending the mountain--that there was a cave high up +among the precipices on the southeast side of Nipple Top. He +scarcely volunteered the information, and with seeming reluctance +gave us any particulars about it. I always admire this art by which +the accomplished story-teller lets his listener drag the reluctant +tale of the marvelous from him, and makes you in a manner responsible +for its improbability. If this is well managed, the listener is +always eager to believe a great deal more than the romancer seems +willing to tell, and always resents the assumed reservations and +doubts of the latter. + +There were strange reports about this cave when the old guide was a +boy, and even then its very existence had become legendary. Nobody +knew exactly where it was, but there was no doubt that it had been +inhabited. Hunters in the forests south of Dix had seen a light late +at night twinkling through the trees high up the mountain, and now +and then a ruddy glare as from the flaring-up of a furnace. Settlers +were few in the wilderness then, and all the inhabitants were well +known. If the cave was inhabited, it must be by strangers, and by +men who had some secret purpose in seeking this seclusion and eluding +observation. If suspicious characters were seen about Port Henry, or +if any such landed from the steamers on the shore of Lake Champlain, +it was impossible to identify them with these invaders who were never +seen. Their not being seen did not, however, prevent the growth of +the belief in their existence. Little indications and rumors, each +trivial in itself, became a mass of testimony that could not be +disposed of because of its very indefiniteness, but which appealed +strongly to man's noblest faculty, his imagination, or credulity. + +The cave existed; and it was inhabited by men who came and went on +mysterious errands, and transacted their business by night. What +this band of adventurers or desperadoes lived on, how they conveyed +their food through the trackless woods to their high eyrie, and what +could induce men to seek such a retreat, were questions discussed, +but never settled. They might be banditti; but there was nothing to +plunder in these savage wilds, and, in fact, robberies and raids +either in the settlements of the hills or the distant lake shore were +unknown. In another age, these might have been hermits, holy men who +had retired from the world to feed the vanity of their godliness in a +spot where they were subject neither to interruption nor comparison; +they would have had a shrine in the cave, and an image of the Blessed +Virgin, with a lamp always burning before it and sending out its +mellow light over the savage waste. A more probable notion was that +they were romantic Frenchmen who had grow weary of vice and +refinement together,--possibly princes, expectants of the throne, +Bourbon remainders, named Williams or otherwise, unhatched eggs, so +to speak, of kings, who had withdrawn out of observation to wait for +the next turn-over in Paris. Frenchmen do such things. If they were +not Frenchmen, they might be honest-thieves or criminals, escaped +from justice or from the friendly state-prison of New York. This +last supposition was, however, more violent than the others, or seems +so to us in this day of grace. For what well-brought-up New York +criminal would be so insane as to run away from his political friends +the keepers, from the easily had companionship of his pals outside, +and from the society of his criminal lawyer, and, in short, to put +himself into the depths of a wilderness out of which escape, when +escape was desired, is a good deal more difficult than it is out of +the swarming jails of the Empire State? Besides, how foolish for a +man, if he were a really hardened and professional criminal, having +established connections and a regular business, to run away from the +governor's pardon, which might have difficulty in finding him in the +craggy bosom of Nipple Top! + +This gang of men--there is some doubt whether they were accompanied +by women--gave little evidence in their appearance of being escaped +criminals or expectant kings. Their movements were mysterious but +not necessarily violent. If their occupation could have been +discovered, that would have furnished a clew to their true character. +But about this the strangers were as close as mice. If anything +could betray them, it was the steady light from the cavern, and its +occasional ruddy flashing. This gave rise to the opinion, which was +strengthened by a good many indications equally conclusive, that the +cave was the resort of a gang of coiners and counterfeiters. Here +they had their furnace, smelting-pots, and dies; here they +manufactured those spurious quarters and halves that their +confidants, who were pardoned, were circulating, and which a few +honest men were "nailing to the counter." + +This prosaic explanation of a romantic situation satisfies all the +requirements of the known facts, but the lively imagination at once +rejects it as unworthy of the subject. I think the guide put it +forward in order to have it rejected. The fact is,--at least, it has +never been disproved,--these strangers whose movements were veiled +belonged to that dark and mysterious race whose presence anywhere on +this continent is a nest-egg of romance or of terror. They were +Spaniards! You need not say buccaneers, you need not say gold- +hunters, you need not say swarthy adventurers even: it is enough to +say Spaniards! There is no tale of mystery and fanaticism and daring +I would not believe if a Spaniard is the hero of it, and it is not +necessary either that he should have the high-sounding name of +Bodadilla or Ojeda. + +Nobody, I suppose, would doubt this story if the moose, quaffing deep +draughts of red wine from silver tankards, and then throwing +themselves back upon divans, and lazily puffing the fragrant Havana. +After a day of toil, what more natural, and what more probable for a +Spaniard? + +Does the reader think these inferences not warranted by the facts? +He does not know the facts. It is true that our guide had never +himself personally visited the cave, but he has always intended to +hunt it up. His information in regard to it comes from his father, +who was a mighty hunter and trapper. In one of his expeditions over +Nipple Top he chanced upon the cave. The mouth was half concealed by +undergrowth. He entered, not without some apprehension engendered by +the legends which make it famous. I think he showed some boldness in +venturing into such a place alone. I confess that, before I went in, +I should want to fire a Gatling gun into the mouth for a little +while, in order to rout out the bears which usually dwell there. He +went in, however. The entrance was low; but the cave was spacious, +not large, but big enough, with a level floor and a vaulted ceiling. +It had long been deserted, but that it was once the residence of +highly civilized beings there could be no doubt. The dead brands in +the centre were the remains of a fire that could not have been +kindled by wild beasts, and the bones scattered about had been +scientifically dissected and handled. There were also remnants of +furniture and pieces of garments scattered about. At the farther +end, in a fissure of the rock, were stones regularly built up, the +rem Yins of a larger fire,--and what the hunter did not doubt was the +smelting furnace of the Spaniards. He poked about in the ashes, but +found no silver. That had all been carried away. + +But what most provoked his wonder in this rude cave was a chair I +This was not such a seat as a woodman might knock up with an axe, +with rough body and a seat of woven splits, but a manufactured chair +of commerce, and a chair, too, of an unusual pattern and some +elegance. This chair itself was a mute witness of luxury and +mystery. The chair itself might have been accounted for, though I +don't know how; but upon the back of the chair hung, as if the owner +had carelessly flung it there before going out an hour before, a +man's waistcoat. This waistcoat seemed to him of foreign make and +peculiar style, but what endeared it to him was its row of metal +buttons. These buttons were of silver! I forget now whether he did +not say they were of silver coin, and that the coin was Spanish. But +I am not certain about this latter fact, and I wish to cast no air of +improbability over my narrative. This rich vestment the hunter +carried away with him. This was all the plunder his expedition +afforded. Yes: there was one other article, and, to my mind, more +significant than the vest of the hidalgo. This was a short and stout +crowbar of iron; not one of the long crowbars that farmers use to pry +up stones, but a short handy one, such as you would use in digging +silver-ore out of the cracks of rocks. + +This was the guide's simple story. I asked him what became of the +vest and the buttons, and the bar of iron. The old man wore the vest +until he wore it out; and then he handed it over to the boys, and +they wore it in turn till they wore it out. The buttons were cut +off, and kept as curiosities. They were about the cabin, and the +children had them to play with. The guide distinctly remembers +playing with them; one of them he kept for a long time, and he didn't +know but he could find it now, but he guessed it had disappeared. I +regretted that he had not treasured this slender verification of an +interesting romance, but he said in those days he never paid much +attention to such things. Lately he has turned the subject over, and +is sorry that his father wore out the vest and did not bring away the +chair. It is his steady purpose to find the cave some time when he +has leisure, and capture the chair, if it has not tumbled to pieces. +But about the crowbar? Oh I that is all right. The guide has the +bar at his house in Keene Valley, and has always used it. + I am happy to be able to confirm this story by saying that next +day I saw the crowbar, and had it in my hand. It is short and thick, +and the most interesting kind of crowbar. This evidence is enough +for me. I intend in the course of this vacation to search for the +cave; and, if I find it, my readers shall know the truth about it, if +it destroys the only bit of romance connected with these mountains. + + + + +VIII + +WHAT SOME PEOPLE CALL PLEASURE + +My readers were promised an account of Spaniard's Cave on Nipple-Top +Mountain in the Adirondacks, if such a cave exists, and could be +found. There is none but negative evidence that this is a mere cave +of the imagination, the void fancy of a vacant hour; but it is the +duty of the historian to present the negative testimony of a +fruitless expedition in search of it, made last summer. I beg leave +to offer this in the simple language befitting all sincere exploits +of a geographical character. + +The summit of Nipple-Top Mountain has been trodden by few white men +of good character: it is in the heart of a hirsute wilderness; it is +itself a rough and unsocial pile of granite nearly five thousand feet +high, bristling with a stunted and unpleasant growth of firs and +balsams, and there is no earthly reason why a person should go there. +Therefore we went. In the party of three there was, of course, a +chaplain. The guide was Old Mountain Phelps, who had made the ascent +once before, but not from the northwest side, the direction from +which we approached it. The enthusiasm of this philosopher has grown +with his years, and outlived his endurance: we carried our own +knapsacks and supplies, therefore, and drew upon him for nothing but +moral reflections and a general knowledge of the wilderness. Our +first day's route was through the Gill-brook woods and up one of its +branches to the head of Caribou Pass, which separates Nipple Top from +Colvin. + +It was about the first of September; no rain had fallen for several +weeks, and this heart of the forest was as dry as tinder; a lighted +match dropped anywhere would start a conflagration. This dryness has +its advantages: the walking is improved; the long heat has expressed +all the spicy odors of the cedars and balsams, and the woods are +filled with a soothing fragrance; the waters of the streams, though +scant and clear, are cold as ice; the common forest chill is gone +from the air. The afternoon was bright; there was a feeling of +exultation and adventure in stepping off into the open but pathless +forest; the great stems of deciduous trees were mottled with patches +of sunlight, which brought out upon the variegated barks and mosses +of the old trunks a thousand shifting hues. There is nothing like a +primeval wood for color on a sunny day. The shades of green and +brown are infinite; the dull red of the hemlock bark glows in the +sun, the russet of the changing moose-bush becomes brilliant; there +are silvery openings here and there; and everywhere the columns rise +up to the canopy of tender green which supports the intense blue sky +and holds up a part of it from falling through in fragments to the +floor of the forest. Decorators can learn here how Nature dares to +put blue and green in juxtaposition: she has evidently the secret of +harmonizing all the colors. + +The way, as we ascended, was not all through open woods; dense masses +of firs were encountered, jagged spurs were to be crossed, and the +going became at length so slow and toilsome that we took to the rocky +bed of a stream, where bowlders and flumes and cascades offered us +sufficient variety. The deeper we penetrated, the greater the sense +of savageness and solitude; in the silence of these hidden places one +seems to approach the beginning of things. We emerged from the +defile into an open basin, formed by the curved side of the mountain, +and stood silent before a waterfall coming down out of the sky in the +centre of the curve. I do not know anything exactly like this fall, +which some poetical explorer has named the Fairy-Ladder Falls. It +appears to have a height of something like a hundred and fifty feet, +and the water falls obliquely across the face of the cliff from left +to right in short steps, which in the moonlight might seem like a +veritable ladder for fairies. Our impression of its height was +confirmed by climbing the very steep slope at its side some three or +four hundred feet. At the top we found the stream flowing over a +broad bed of rock, like a street in the wilderness, slanting up still +towards the sky, and bordered by low firs and balsams, and bowlders +completely covered with moss. It was above the world and open to the +sky. + +On account of the tindery condition of the woods we made our fire on +the natural pavement, and selected a smooth place for our bed near by +on the flat rock, with a pool of limpid water at the foot. This +granite couch we covered with the dry and springy moss, which we +stripped off in heavy fleeces a foot thick from the bowlders. First, +however, we fed upon the fruit that was offered us. Over these hills +of moss ran an exquisite vine with a tiny, ovate, green leaf, bearing +small, delicate berries, oblong and white as wax, having a faint +flavor of wintergreen and the slightest acid taste, the very essence +of the wilderness; fairy food, no doubt, and too refined for palates +accustomed to coarser viands. There must exist somewhere sinless +women who could eat these berries without being reminded of the lost +purity and delicacy of the primeval senses. Every year I doubt not +this stainless berry ripens here, and is unplucked by any knight of +the Holy Grail who is worthy to eat it, and keeps alive, in the +prodigality of nature, the tradition of the unperverted conditions of +taste before the fall. We ate these berries, I am bound to say, with +a sense of guilty enjoyment, as if they had been a sort of shew-bread +of the wilderness, though I cannot answer for the chaplain, who is by +virtue of his office a little nearer to these mysteries of nature +than I. This plant belongs to the heath family, and is first cousin +to the blueberry and cranberry. It is commonly called the creeping +snowberry, but I like better its official title of chiogenes,--the +snow-born. + +Our mossy resting-place was named the Bridal Chamber Camp, in the +enthusiasm of the hour, after darkness fell upon the woods and the +stars came out. We were two thousand five hundred feet above the +common world. We lay, as it were, on a shelf in the sky, with a +basin of illimitable forests below us and dim mountain-passes-in the +far horizon. + +And as we lay there courting sleep which the blinking stars refused +to shower down, our philosopher discoursed to us of the principle of +fire, which he holds, with the ancients, to be an independent element +that comes and goes in a mysterious manner, as we see flame spring up +and vanish, and is in some way vital and indestructible, and has a +mysterious relation to the source of all things. "That flame," he +says, "you have put out, but where has it gone?" We could not say, +nor whether it is anything like the spirit of a man which is here for +a little hour, and then vanishes away. Our own philosophy of the +correlation of forces found no sort of favor at that elevation, and +we went to sleep leaving the principle of fire in the apostolic +category of " any other creature." + +At daylight we were astir; and, having pressed the principle of fire +into our service to make a pot of tea, we carefully extinguished it +or sent it into another place, and addressed ourselves to the climb +of some thing over two thousand feet. The arduous labor of scaling +an Alpine peak has a compensating glory; but the dead lift of our +bodies up Nipple Top had no stimulus of this sort. It is simply hard +work, for which the strained muscles only get the approbation of the +individual conscience that drives them to the task. The pleasure of +such an ascent is difficult to explain on the spot, and I suspect +consists not so much in positive enjoyment as in the delight the mind +experiences in tyrannizing over the body. I do not object to the +elevation of this mountain, nor to the uncommonly steep grade by +which it attains it, but only to the other obstacles thrown in the +way of the climber. All the slopes of Nipple Top are hirsute and +jagged to the last degree. Granite ledges interpose; granite +bowlders seem to have been dumped over the sides with no more attempt +at arrangement than in a rip-rap wall; the slashes and windfalls of a +century present here and there an almost impenetrable chevalier des +arbres; and the steep sides bristle with a mass of thick balsams, +with dead, protruding spikes, as unyielding as iron stakes. The +mountain has had its own way forever, and is as untamed as a wolf; or +rather the elements, the frightful tempests, the frosts, the heavy +snows, the coaxing sun, and the avalanches have had their way with it +until its surface is in hopeless confusion. We made our way very +slowly; and it was ten o'clock before we reached what appeared to be +the summit, a ridge deeply covered with moss, low balsams, and +blueberry-bushes. + +I say, appeared to be; for we stood in thick fog or in the heart of +clouds which limited our dim view to a radius of twenty feet. It was +a warm and cheerful fog, stirred by little wind, but moving, +shifting, and boiling as by its own volatile nature, rolling up black +from below and dancing in silvery splendor overhead As a fog it could +not have been improved; as a medium for viewing the landscape it was +a failure and we lay down upon the Sybarite couch of moss, as in a +Russian bath, to await revelations. + +We waited two hours without change, except an occasional hopeful +lightness in the fog above, and at last the appearance for a moment +of the spectral sun. Only for an instant was this luminous promise +vouchsafed. But we watched in intense excitement. There it was +again; and this time the fog was so thin overhead that we caught +sight of a patch of blue sky a yard square, across which the curtain +was instantly drawn. A little wind was stirring, and the fog boiled +up from the valley caldrons thicker than ever. But the spell was +broken. In a moment more Old Phelps was shouting, "The sun!" and +before we could gain our feet there was a patch of sky overhead as +big as a farm. "See! quick!" The old man was dancing like a +lunatic. There was a rift in the vapor at our feet, down, down, +three thousand feet into the forest abyss, and lo! lifting out of it +yonder the tawny side of Dix,--the vision of a second, snatched away +in the rolling fog. The play had just begun. Before we could turn, +there was the gorge of Caribou Pass, savage and dark, visible to the +bottom. The opening shut as suddenly; and then, looking over the +clouds, miles away we saw the peaceful farms of the Au Sable Valley, +and in a moment more the plateau of North Elba and the sentinel +mountains about the grave of John Brown. These glimpses were as +fleeting as thought, and instantly we were again isolated in the sea +of mist. The expectation of these sudden strokes of sublimity kept +us exultingly on the alert; and yet it was a blow of surprise when +the curtain was swiftly withdrawn on the west, and the long ridge of +Colvin, seemingly within a stone's throw, heaved up like an island +out of the ocean, and was the next moment ingulfed. We waited longer +for Dix to show its shapely peak and its glistening sides of rock +gashed by avalanches. The fantastic clouds, torn and streaming, +hurried up from the south in haste as if to a witch's rendezvous, +hiding and disclosing the great summit in their flight. The mist +boiled up from the valley, whirled over the summit where we stood, +and plunged again into the depths. Objects were forming and +disappearing, shifting and dancing, now in sun and now gone in fog, +and in the elemental whirl we felt that we were "assisting" in an +original process of creation. The sun strove, and his very striving +called up new vapors; the wind rent away the clouds, and brought new +masses to surge about us; and the spectacle to right and left, above +and below, changed with incredible swiftness. Such glory of abyss +and summit, of color and form and transformation, is seldom granted +to mortal eyes. For an hour we watched it until our vast mountain +was revealed in all its bulk, its long spurs, its abysses and its +savagery, and the great basins of wilderness with their shining +lakes, and the giant peaks of the region, were one by one disclosed, +and hidden and again tranquil in the sunshine. + +Where was the cave? There was ample surface in which to look for it. +If we could have flitted about, like the hawks that came circling +round, over the steep slopes, the long spurs, the jagged precipices, +I have no doubt we should have found it. But moving about on this +mountain is not a holiday pastime; and we were chiefly anxious to +discover a practicable mode of descent into the great wilderness +basin on the south, which we must traverse that afternoon before +reaching the hospitable shanty on Mud Pond. It was enough for us to +have discovered the general whereabouts of the Spanish Cave, and we +left the fixing of its exact position to future explorers. + +The spur we chose for our escape looked smooth in the distance; but +we found it bristling with obstructions, dead balsams set thickly +together, slashes of fallen timber, and every manner of woody chaos; +and when at length we swung and tumbled off the ledge to the general +slope, we exchanged only for more disagreeable going. The slope for +a couple of thousand feet was steep enough; but it was formed of +granite rocks all moss-covered, so that the footing could not be +determined, and at short intervals we nearly went out of sight in +holes under the treacherous carpeting. Add to this that stems of +great trees were laid longitudinally and transversely and criss-cross +over and among the rocks, and the reader can see that a good deal of +work needs to be done to make this a practicable highway for anything +but a squirrel.... + +We had had no water since our daylight breakfast: our lunch on the +mountain had been moistened only by the fog. Our thirst began to be +that of Tantalus, because we could hear the water running deep down +among the rocks, but we could not come at it. The imagination drank +the living stream, and we realized anew what delusive food the +imagination furnishes in an actual strait. A good deal of the crime +of this world, I am convinced, is the direct result of the unlicensed +play of the imagination in adverse circumstances. This reflection +had nothing to do with our actual situation; for we added to our +imagination patience, and to our patience long-suffering, and +probably all the Christian virtues would have been developed in us if +the descent had been long enough. Before we reached the bottom of +Caribou Pass, the water burst out from the rocks in a clear stream +that was as cold as ice. Shortly after, we struck the roaring brook +that issues from the Pass to the south. It is a stream full of +character, not navigable even for trout in the upper part, but a +succession of falls, cascades, flumes, and pools that would delight +an artist. It is not an easy bed for anything except water to +descend; and before we reached the level reaches, where the stream +flows with a murmurous noise through open woods, one of our party +began to show signs of exhaustion. + +This was Old Phelps, whose appetite had failed the day before,--his +imagination being in better working order than his stomach: he had +eaten little that day, and his legs became so groggy that he was +obliged to rest at short intervals. Here was a situation! The +afternoon was wearing away. We had six or seven miles of unknown +wilderness to traverse, a portion of it swampy, in which a progress +of more than a mile an hour is difficult, and the condition of the +guide compelled even a slower march. What should we do in that +lonesome solitude if the guide became disabled? We couldn't carry +him out; could we find our own way out to get assistance? The guide +himself had never been there before; and although he knew the general +direction of our point of egress, and was entirely adequate to +extricate himself from any position in the woods, his knowledge was +of that occult sort possessed by woodsmen which it is impossible to +communicate. Our object was to strike a trail that led from the Au +Sable Pond, the other side of the mountain-range, to an inlet on Mud +Pond. We knew that if we traveled southwestward far enough we must +strike that trail, but how far? No one could tell. If we reached +that trail, and found a boat at the inlet, there would be only a row +of a couple of miles to the house at the foot of the lake. If no +boat was there, then we must circle the lake three or four miles +farther through a cedar-swamp, with no trail in particular. The +prospect was not pleasing. We were short of supplies, for we had not +expected to pass that night in the woods. The pleasure of the +excursion began to develop itself. + +We stumbled on in the general direction marked out, through a forest +that began to seem endless as hour after hour passed, compelled as we +were to make long detours over the ridges of the foothills to avoid +the swamp, which sent out from the border of the lake long tongues +into the firm ground. The guide became more ill at every step, and +needed frequent halts and long rests. Food he could not eat; and +tea, water, and even brandy he rejected. Again and again the old +philosopher, enfeebled by excessive exertion and illness, would +collapse in a heap on the ground, an almost comical picture of +despair, while we stood and waited the waning of the day, and peered +forward in vain for any sign of an open country. At every brook we +encountered, we suggested a halt for the night, while it was still +light enough to select a camping-place, but the plucky old man +wouldn't hear of it: the trail might be only a quarter of a mile +ahead, and we crawled on again at a snail's pace. His honor as a +guide seemed to be at stake; and, besides, he confessed to a notion +that his end was near, and he didn't want to die like a dog in the +woods. And yet, if this was his last journey, it seemed not an +inappropriate ending for the old woodsman to lie down and give up the +ghost in the midst of the untamed forest and the solemn silences he +felt most at home in. There is a popular theory, held by civilians, +that a soldier likes to die in battle. I suppose it is as true that +a woodsman would like to "pass in his chips,"--the figure seems to be +inevitable, struck down by illness and exposure, in the forest +solitude, with heaven in sight and a tree-root for his pillow. + +The guide seemed really to fear that, if we did not get out of the +woods that night, he would never go out; and, yielding to his dogged +resolution, we kept on in search of the trail, although the gathering +of dusk over the ground warned us that we might easily cross the +trail without recognizing it. We were traveling by the light in the +upper sky, and by the forms of the tree-stems, which every moment +grew dimmer. At last the end came. We had just felt our way over +what seemed to be a little run of water, when the old man sunk down, +remarking, "I might as well die here as anywhere," and was silent. + +Suddenly night fell like a blanket on us. We could neither see the +guide nor each other. We became at once conscious that miles of +night on all sides shut us in. The sky was clouded over: there +wasn't a gleam of light to show us where to step. Our first thought +was to build a fire, which would drive back the thick darkness into +the woods, and boil some water for our tea. But it was too dark to +use the axe. We scraped together leaves and twigs to make a blaze, +and, as this failed, such dead sticks as we could find by groping +about. The fire was only a temporary affair, but it sufficed to boil +a can of water. The water we obtained by feeling about the stones of +the little run for an opening big enough to dip our cup in. The +supper to be prepared was fortunately simple. It consisted of a +decoction of tea and other leaves which had got into the pail, and a +part of a loaf of bread. A loaf of bread which has been carried in a +knapsack for a couple of days, bruised and handled and hacked at with +a hunting-knife, becomes an uninteresting object. But we ate of it +with thankfulness, washed it down with hot fluid, and bitterly +thought of the morrow. Would our old friend survive the night? +Would he be in any condition to travel in the morning? How were we +to get out with him or without him? + +The old man lay silent in the bushes out of sight, and desired only +to be let alone. We tried to tempt him with the offer of a piece of +toast: it was no temptation. Tea we thought would revive him: he +refused it. A drink of brandy would certainly quicken his life: he +couldn't touch it. We were at the end of our resources. He seemed +to think that if he were at home, and could get a bit of fried bacon, +or a piece of pie, he should be all right. We knew no more how to +doctor him than if he had been a sick bear. He withdrew within +himself, rolled himself up, so to speak, in his primitive habits, and +waited for the healing power of nature. Before our feeble fire +disappeared, we smoothed a level place near it for Phelps to lie on, +and got him over to it. But it didn't suit: it was too open. In +fact, at the moment some drops of rain fell. Rain was quite outside +of our program for the night. But the guide had an instinct about +it; and, while we were groping about some yards distant for a place +where we could lie down, he crawled away into the darkness, and +curled himself up amid the roots of a gigantic pine, very much as a +bear would do, I suppose, with his back against the trunk, and there +passed the night comparatively dry and comfortable; but of this we +knew nothing till morning, and had to trust to the assurance of a +voice out of the darkness that he was all right. + +Our own bed where we spread our blankets was excellent in one +respect,--there was no danger of tumbling out of it. At first the +rain pattered gently on the leaves overhead, and we congratulated +ourselves on the snugness of our situation. There was something +cheerful about this free life. We contrasted our condition with that +of tired invalids who were tossing on downy beds, and wooing sleep in +vain. Nothing was so wholesome and invigorating as this bivouac in +the forest. But, somehow, sleep did not come. The rain had ceased +to patter, and began to fall with a steady determination, a sort of +soak, soak, all about us. In fact, it roared on the rubber blanket, +and beat in our faces. The wind began to stir a little, and there +was a moaning on high. Not contented with dripping, the rain was +driven into our faces. Another suspicious circumstance was noticed. +Little rills of water got established along the sides under the +blankets, cold, undeniable streams, that interfered with drowsiness. +Pools of water settled on the bed; and the chaplain had a habit of +moving suddenly, and letting a quart or two inside, and down my neck. +It began to be evident that we and our bed were probably the wettest +objects in the woods. The rubber was an excellent catch-all. There +was no trouble about ventilation, but we found that we had +established our quarters without any provision for drainage. There +was not exactly a wild tempest abroad; but there was a degree of +liveliness in the thrashing limbs and the creaking of the tree- +branches which rubbed against each other, and the pouring rain +increased in volume and power of penetration. Sleep was quite out of +the question, with so much to distract our attention. In fine, our +misery became so perfect that we both broke out into loud and +sarcastic laughter over the absurdity of our situation. We had +subjected ourselves to all this forlornness simply for pleasure. +Whether Old Phelps was still in existence, we couldn't tell: we could +get no response from him. With daylight, if he continued ill and +could not move, our situation would be little improved. Our supplies +were gone, we lay in a pond, a deluge of water was pouring down on +us. This was summer recreation. The whole thing was so excessively +absurd that we laughed again, louder than ever. We had plenty of +this sort of amusement. Suddenly through the night we heard a sort +of reply that started us bolt upright. This was a prolonged squawk. +It was like the voice of no beast or bird with which we were +familiar. At first it was distant; but it rapidly approached, +tearing through the night and apparently through the tree-tops, like +the harsh cry of a web-footed bird with a snarl in it; in fact, as I +said, a squawk. It came close to us, and then turned, and as rapidly +as it came fled away through the forest, and we lost the unearthly +noise far up the mountain-slope. + +"What was that, Phelps? "we cried out. But no response came; and we +wondered if his spirit had been rent away, or if some evil genius had +sought it, and then, baffled by his serene and philosophic spirit, +had shot off into the void in rage and disappointment. + +The night had no other adventure. The moon at length coming up +behind the clouds lent a spectral aspect to the forest, and deceived +us for a time into the notion that day was at hand; but the rain +never ceased, and we lay wishful and waiting, with no item of solid +misery wanting that we could conceive. + +Day was slow a-coming, and didn't amount to much when it came, so +heavy were the clouds; but the rain slackened. We crawled out of our +water-cure "pack," and sought the guide. To our infinite relief he +announced himself not only alive, but in a going condition. I looked +at my watch. It had stopped at five o'clock. I poured the water out +of it, and shook it; but, not being constructed on the hydraulic +principle, it refused to go. Some hours later we encountered a +huntsman, from whom I procured some gun-grease; with this I filled +the watch, and heated it in by the fire. This is a most effectual +way of treating a delicate Genevan timepiece. + +The light disclosed fully the suspected fact that our bed had been +made in a slight depression: the under rubber blanket spread in this +had prevented the rain from soaking into the ground, and we had been +lying in what was in fact a well-contrived bathtub. While Old Phelps +was pulling himself together, and we were wringing some gallons of +water out of our blankets, we questioned the old man about the +"squawk," and what bird was possessed of such a voice. It was not a +bird at all, he said, but a cat, the black-cat of the woods, larger +than the domestic animal, and an ugly customer, who is fond of fish, +and carries a pelt that is worth two or three dollars in the market. +Occasionally he blunders into a sable-trap; and he is altogether +hateful in his ways, and has the most uncultivated voice that is +heard in the woods. We shall remember him as one of the least +pleasant phantoms of that cheerful night when we lay in the storm, +fearing any moment the advent to one of us of the grimmest messenger. + +We rolled up and shouldered our wet belongings, and, before the +shades had yet lifted from the saturated bushes, pursued our march. +It was a relief to be again in motion, although our progress was +slow, and it was a question every rod whether the guide could go on. +We had the day before us; but if we did not find a boat at the inlet +a day might not suffice, in the weak condition of the guide, to +extricate us from our ridiculous position. There was nothing heroic +in it; we had no object: it was merely, as it must appear by this +time, a pleasure excursion, and we might be lost or perish in it +without reward and with little sympathy. We had something like a +hour and a half of stumbling through the swamp when suddenly we stood +in the little trail! Slight as it was, it appeared to us a very +Broadway to Paradise if broad ways ever lead thither. Phelps hailed +it and sank down in it like one reprieved from death. But the boat? +Leaving him, we quickly ran a quarter of a mile down to the inlet. +The boat was there. Our shout to the guide would have roused him out +of a death-slumber. He came down the trail with the agility of an +aged deer: never was so glad a sound in his ear, he said, as that +shout. It was in a very jubilant mood that we emptied the boat of +water, pushed off, shipped the clumsy oars, and bent to the two-mile +row through the black waters of the winding, desolate channel, and +over the lake, whose dark waves were tossed a little in the morning +breeze. The trunks of dead trees stand about this lake, and all its +shores are ragged with ghastly drift-wood; but it was open to the +sky, and although the heavy clouds still obscured all the mountain- +ranges we had a sense of escape and freedom that almost made the +melancholy scene lovely. + +How lightly past hardship sits upon us! All the misery of the night +vanished, as if it had not been, in the shelter of the log cabin at +Mud Pond, with dry clothes that fitted us as the skin of the bear +fits him in the spring, a noble breakfast, a toasting fire, +solicitude about our comfort, judicious sympathy with our suffering, +and willingness to hear the now growing tale of our adventure. Then +came, in a day of absolute idleness, while the showers came and went, +and the mountains appeared and disappeared in sun and storm, that +perfect physical enjoyment which consists in a feeling of strength +without any inclination to use it, and in a delicious languor which +is too enjoyable to be surrendered to sleep. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's In the Wilderness, by Charles Dudley Warner + diff --git a/old/cwitw10.zip b/old/cwitw10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e33f17c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cwitw10.zip diff --git a/old/cwitw11.txt b/old/cwitw11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..64f2f56 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cwitw11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3713 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of In the Wilderness by C. D. Warner +#36 in our series by Charles Dudley Warner + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +NOTE: This work has been previously published in [Etext #2673] +The Complete Writings of Charles Dudley Warner Volume 3 +Project Gutenberg The Complete Writings of Charles Dudley Warner +3warn10.txt or 3warn10.zip + + + + +IN THE WILDERNESS + +By Charles Dudley Warner + + + +CONTENTS: + HOW I KILLED A BEAR + LOST IN THE WOODS + A FIGHT WITH A TROUT + A-HUNTING OF THE DEER + A CHARACTER STUDY (Old Phelps) + CAMPING OUT + A WILDERNESS ROMANCE + WHAT SOME PEOPLE CALL PLEASURE + + + +HOW I KILLED A BEAR + +So many conflicting accounts have appeared about my casual encounter +with an Adirondack bear last summer that in justice to the public, to +myself, and to the bear, it is necessary to make a plain statement of +the facts. Besides, it is so seldom I have occasion to kill a bear, +that the celebration of the exploit may be excused. + +The encounter was unpremeditated on both sides. I was not hunting +for a bear, and I have no reason to suppose that a bear was looking +for me. The fact is, that we were both out blackberrying, and met by +chance, the usual way. There is among the Adirondack visitors always +a great deal of conversation about bears,--a general expression of +the wish to see one in the woods, and much speculation as to how a +person would act if he or she chanced to meet one. But bears are +scarce and timid, and appear only to a favored few. + +It was a warm day in August, just the sort of day when an adventure +of any kind seemed impossible. But it occurred to the housekeepers +at our cottage--there were four of them--to send me to the clearing, +on the mountain back of the house, to pick blackberries. It was +rather a series of small clearings, running up into the forest, much +overgrown with bushes and briers, and not unromantic. Cows pastured +there, penetrating through the leafy passages from one opening to +another, and browsing among the bushes. I was kindly furnished with +a six-quart pail, and told not to be gone long. + +Not from any predatory instinct, but to save appearances, I took a +gun. It adds to the manly aspect of a person with a tin pail if he +also carries a gun. It was possible I might start up a partridge; +though how I was to hit him, if he started up instead of standing +still, puzzled me. Many people use a shotgun for partridges. I +prefer the rifle: it makes a clean job of death, and does not +prematurely stuff the bird with globules of lead. The rifle was a +Sharps, carrying a ball cartridge (ten to the pound),--an excellent +weapon belonging to a friend of mine, who had intended, for a good +many years back, to kill a deer with it. He could hit a tree with it +--if the wind did not blow, and the atmosphere was just right, and +the tree was not too far off--nearly every time. Of course, the tree +must have some size. Needless to say that I was at that time no +sportsman. Years ago I killed a robin under the most humiliating +circumstances. The bird was in a low cherry-tree. I loaded a big +shotgun pretty full, crept up under the tree, rested the gun on the +fence, with the muzzle more than ten feet from the bird, shut both +eyes, and pulled the trigger. When I got up to see what had +happened, the robin was scattered about under the tree in more than a +thousand pieces, no one of which was big enough to enable a +naturalist to decide from it to what species it belonged. This +disgusted me with the life of a sportsman. I mention the incident to +show that, although I went blackberrying armed, there was not much +inequality between me and the bear. + +In this blackberry-patch bears had been seen. The summer before, our +colored cook, accompanied by a little girl of the vicinage, was +picking berries there one day, when a bear came out of the woods, and +walked towards them. The girl took to her heels, and escaped. Aunt +Chloe was paralyzed with terror. Instead of attempting to run, she +sat down on the ground where she was standing, and began to weep and +scream, giving herself up for lost. The bear was bewildered by this +conduct. He approached and looked at her; he walked around and +surveyed her. Probably he had never seen a colored person before, +and did not know whether she would agree with him: at any rate, after +watching her a few moments, he turned about, and went into the +forest. This is an authentic instance of the delicate consideration +of a bear, and is much more remarkable than the forbearance towards +the African slave of the well-known lion, because the bear had no +thorn in his foot. + +When I had climbed the hill,--I set up my rifle against a tree, and +began picking berries, lured on from bush to bush by the black gleam +of fruit (that always promises more in the distance than it realizes +when you reach it); penetrating farther and farther, through leaf- +shaded cow-paths flecked with sunlight, into clearing after clearing. +I could hear on all sides the tinkle of bells, the cracking of +sticks, and the stamping of cattle that were taking refuge in the +thicket from the flies. Occasionally, as I broke through a covert, I +encountered a meek cow, who stared at me stupidly for a second, and +then shambled off into the brush. I became accustomed to this dumb +society, and picked on in silence, attributing all the wood noises to +the cattle, thinking nothing of any real bear. In point of fact, +however, I was thinking all the time of a nice romantic bear, and as +I picked, was composing a story about a generous she-bear who had +lost her cub, and who seized a small girl in this very wood, carried +her tenderly off to a cave, and brought her up on bear's milk and +honey. When the girl got big enough to run away, moved by her +inherited instincts, she escaped, and came into the valley to her +father's house (this part of the story was to be worked out, so that +the child would know her father by some family resemblance, and have +some language in which to address him), and told him where the bear +lived. The father took his gun, and, guided by the unfeeling +daughter, went into the woods and shot the bear, who never made any +resistance, and only, when dying, turned reproachful eyes upon her +murderer. The moral of the tale was to be kindness to animals. + +I was in the midst of this tale when I happened to look some rods +away to the other edge of the clearing, and there was a bear! He was +standing on his hind legs, and doing just what I was doing,--picking +blackberries. With one paw he bent down the bush, while with the +other he clawed the berries into his mouth,--green ones and all. To +say that I was astonished is inside the mark. I suddenly discovered +that I didn't want to see a bear, after all. At about the same +moment the bear saw me, stopped eating berries, and regarded me with +a glad surprise. It is all very well to imagine what you would do +under such circumstances. Probably you wouldn't do it: I didn't. +The bear dropped down on his forefeet, and came slowly towards me. +Climbing a tree was of no use, with so good a climber in the rear. +If I started to run, I had no doubt the bear would give chase; and +although a bear cannot run down hill as fast as he can run up hill, +yet I felt that he could get over this rough, brush-tangled ground +faster than I could. + +The bear was approaching. It suddenly occurred to me how I could +divert his mind until I could fall back upon my military base. My +pail was nearly full of excellent berries, much better than the bear +could pick himself. I put the pail on the ground, and slowly backed +away from it, keeping my eye, as beast-tamers do, on the bear. The +ruse succeeded. + +The bear came up to the berries, and stopped. Not accustomed to eat +out of a pail, he tipped it over, and nosed about in the fruit, +"gorming" (if there is such a word) it down, mixed with leaves and +dirt, like a pig. The bear is a worse feeder than the pig. Whenever +he disturbs a maple-sugar camp in the spring, he always upsets the +buckets of syrup, and tramples round in the sticky sweets, wasting +more than he eats. The bear's manners are thoroughly disagreeable. + +As soon as my enemy's head was down, I started and ran. Somewhat out +of breath, and shaky, I reached my faithful rifle. It was not a +moment too soon. I heard the bear crashing through the brush after +me. Enraged at my duplicity, he was now coming on with blood in his +eye. I felt that the time of one of us was probably short. The +rapidity of thought at such moments of peril is well known. I +thought an octavo volume, had it illustrated and published, sold +fifty thousand copies, and went to Europe on the proceeds, while that +bear was loping across the clearing. As I was cocking the gun, I +made a hasty and unsatisfactory review of my whole life. I noted, +that, even in such a compulsory review, it is almost impossible to +think of any good thing you have done. The sins come out uncommonly +strong. I recollected a newspaper subscription I had delayed paying +years and years ago, until both editor and newspaper were dead, and +which now never could be paid to all eternity. + +The bear was coming on. + +I tried to remember what I had read about encounters with bears. I +couldn't recall an instance in which a man had run away from a bear +in the woods and escaped, although I recalled plenty where the bear +had run from the man and got off. I tried to think what is the best +way to kill a bear with a gun, when you are not near enough to club +him with the stock. My first thought was to fire at his head; to +plant the ball between his eyes: but this is a dangerous experiment. +The bear's brain is very small; and, unless you hit that, the bear +does not mind a bullet in his head; that is, not at the time. I +remembered that the instant death of the bear would follow a bullet +planted just back of his fore-leg, and sent into his heart. This +spot is also difficult to reach, unless the bear stands off, side +towards you, like a target. I finally determined to fire at him +generally. + +The bear was coming on. + +The contest seemed to me very different from anything at Creedmoor. +I had carefully read the reports of the shooting there; but it was +not easy to apply the experience I had thus acquired. I hesitated +whether I had better fire lying on my stomach or lying on my back, +and resting the gun on my toes. But in neither position, I +reflected, could I see the bear until he was upon me. The range was +too short; and the bear wouldn't wait for me to examine the +thermometer, and note the direction of the wind. Trial of the +Creedmoor method, therefore, had to be abandoned; and I bitterly +regretted that I had not read more accounts of offhand shooting. + +For the bear was coming on. + +I tried to fix my last thoughts upon my family. As my family is +small, this was not difficult. Dread of displeasing my wife, or +hurting her feelings, was uppermost in my mind. What would be her +anxiety as hour after hour passed on, and I did not return! What +would the rest of the household think as the afternoon passed, and no +blackberries came! What would be my wife's mortification when the +news was brought that her husband had been eaten by a bear! I cannot +imagine anything more ignominious than to have a husband eaten by a +bear. And this was not my only anxiety. The mind at such times is +not under control. With the gravest fears the most whimsical ideas +will occur. I looked beyond the mourning friends, and thought what +kind of an epitaph they would be compelled to put upon the stone. + +Something like this: + + HERE LIE THE REMAINS + + OF + _______________ + + EATEN BY A BEAR + Aug. 20, 1877 + +It is a very unheroic and even disagreeable epitaph. That "eaten by +a bear" is intolerable. It is grotesque. And then I thought what an +inadequate language the English is for compact expression. It would +not answer to put upon the stone simply "eaten"; for that is +indefinite, and requires explanation: it might mean eaten by a +cannibal. This difficulty could not occur in the German, where essen +signifies the act of feeding by a man, and fressen by a beast. How +simple the thing would be in German! + + HIER LIEGT + HOCHWOHLGEBOREN + HERR _____ _______ + + GEFRESSEN + Aug. 20, 1877 + +That explains itself. The well-born one was eaten by a beast, and +presumably by a bear,--an animal that has a bad reputation since the +days of Elisha. + +The bear was coming on; he had, in fact, come on. I judged that he +could see the whites of my eyes. All my subsequent reflections were +confused. I raised the gun, covered the bear's breast with the +sight, and let drive. Then I turned, and ran like a deer. I did not +hear the bear pursuing. I looked back. The bear had stopped. He +was lying down. I then remembered that the best thing to do after +having fired your gun is to reload it. I slipped in a charge, +keeping my eyes on the bear. He never stirred. I walked back +suspiciously. There was a quiver in the hindlegs, but no other +motion. Still, he might be shamming: bears often sham. To make +sure, I approached, and put a ball into his head. He didn't mind it +now: he minded nothing. Death had come to him with a merciful +suddenness. He was calm in death. In order that he might remain so, +I blew his brains out, and then started for home. I had killed a +bear! + +Notwithstanding my excitement, I managed to saunter into the house +with an unconcerned air. There was a chorus of voices: + +"Where are your blackberries?" +"Why were you gone so long?" +"Where's your pail?" + +"I left the pail." + +"Left the pail? What for?" + +"A bear wanted it." + +"Oh, nonsense!" + +"Well, the last I saw of it, a bear had it." + +"Oh, come! You didn't really see a bear?" + +"Yes, but I did really see a real bear." + +"Did he run?" + +"Yes: he ran after me." + +"I don't believe a word of it. What did you do?" + +"Oh! nothing particular--except kill the bear." + +Cries of "Gammon!" "Don't believe it!" "Where's the bear?" + +"If you want to see the bear, you must go up into the woods. I +couldn't bring him down alone." + +Having satisfied the household that something extraordinary had +occurred, and excited the posthumous fear of some of them for my own +safety, I went down into the valley to get help. The great bear- +hunter, who keeps one of the summer boarding-houses, received my +story with a smile of incredulity; and the incredulity spread to the +other inhabitants and to the boarders as soon as the story was known. +However, as I insisted in all soberness, and offered to lead them to +the bear, a party of forty or fifty people at last started off with +me to bring the bear in. Nobody believed there was any bear in the +case; but everybody who could get a gun carried one; and we went into +the woods armed with guns, pistols, pitchforks, and sticks, against +all contingencies or surprises,--a crowd made up mostly of scoffers +and jeerers. + +But when I led the way to the fatal spot, and pointed out the bear, +lying peacefully wrapped in his own skin, something like terror +seized the boarders, and genuine excitement the natives. It was a +no-mistake bear, by George! and the hero of the fight well, I will +not insist upon that. But what a procession that was, carrying the +bear home! and what a congregation, was speedily gathered in the +valley to see the bear! Our best preacher up there never drew +anything like it on Sunday. + +And I must say that my particular friends, who were sportsmen, +behaved very well, on the whole. They didn't deny that it was a +bear, although they said it was small for a bear. Mr... Deane, who +is equally good with a rifle and a rod, admitted that it was a very +fair shot. He is probably the best salmon fisher in the United +States, and he is an equally good hunter. I suppose there is no +person in America who is more desirous to kill a moose than he. But +he needlessly remarked, after he had examined the wound in the bear, +that he had seen that kind of a shot made by a cow's horn. + +This sort of talk affected me not. When I went to sleep that night, +my last delicious thought was, "I've killed a bear!" + + + + +II + +LOST IN THE WOODS + +It ought to be said, by way of explanation, that my being lost in the +woods was not premeditated. Nothing could have been more informal. +This apology can be necessary only to those who are familiar with the +Adirondack literature. Any person not familiar with it would see the +absurdity of one going to the Northern Wilderness with the deliberate +purpose of writing about himself as a lost man. It may be true that +a book about this wild tract would not be recognized as complete +without a lost-man story in it, since it is almost as easy for a +stranger to get lost in the Adirondacks as in Boston. I merely +desire to say that my unimportant adventure is not narrated in answer +to the popular demand, and I do not wish to be held responsible for +its variation from the typical character of such experiences. + +We had been in camp a week, on the Upper Au Sable Lake. This is a +gem--emerald or turquoise as the light changes it--set in the virgin +forest. It is not a large body of water, is irregular in form, and +about a mile and a half in length; but in the sweep of its wooded +shores, and the lovely contour of the lofty mountains that guard it, +the lake is probably the most charming in America. Why the young +ladies and gentlemen who camp there occasionally vex the days and +nights with hooting, and singing sentimental songs, is a mystery even +to the laughing loon. + +I left my companions there one Saturday morning, to return to Keene +Valley, intending to fish down the Au Sable River. The Upper Lake +discharges itself into the Lower by a brook which winds through a +mile and a half of swamp and woods. Out of the north end of the +Lower Lake, which is a huge sink in the mountains, and mirrors the +savage precipices, the Au Sable breaks its rocky barriers, and flows +through a wild gorge, several miles, to the valley below. Between +the Lower Lake and the settlements is an extensive forest, traversed +by a cart-path, admirably constructed of loose stones, roots of +trees, decayed logs, slippery rocks, and mud. The gorge of the river +forms its western boundary. I followed this caricature of a road a +mile or more; then gave my luggage to the guide to carry home, and +struck off through the forest, by compass, to the river. I promised +myself an exciting scramble down this little-frequented canyon, and a +creel full of trout. There was no difficulty in finding the river, +or in descending the steep precipice to its bed: getting into a +scrape is usually the easiest part of it. The river is strewn with +bowlders, big and little, through which the amber water rushes with +an unceasing thunderous roar, now plunging down in white falls, then +swirling round in dark pools. The day, already past meridian, was +delightful; at least, the blue strip of it I could see overhead. + +Better pools and rapids for trout never were, I thought, as I +concealed myself behind a bowlder, and made the first cast. There is +nothing like the thrill of expectation over the first throw in +unfamiliar waters. Fishing is like gambling, in that failure only +excites hope of a fortunate throw next time. There was no rise to +the "leader" on the first cast, nor on the twenty-first; and I +cautiously worked my way down stream, throwing right and left. When +I had gone half a mile, my opinion of the character of the pools was +unchanged: never were there such places for trout; but the trout were +out of their places. Perhaps they didn't care for the fly: some +trout seem to be so unsophisticated as to prefer the worm. I +replaced the fly with a baited hook: the worm squirmed; the waters +rushed and roared; a cloud sailed across the blue: no trout rose to +the lonesome opportunity. There is a certain companionship in the +presence of trout, especially when you can feel them flopping in your +fish basket; but it became evident that there were no trout in this +wilderness, and a sense of isolation for the first time came over me. +There was no living thing near. The river had by this time entered a +deeper gorge; walls of rocks rose perpendicularly on either side,-- +picturesque rocks, painted many colors by the oxide of iron. It was +not possible to climb out of the gorge; it was impossible to find a +way by the side of the river; and getting down the bed, over the +falls, and through the flumes, was not easy, and consumed time. + +Was that thunder? Very likely. But thunder showers are always +brewing in these mountain fortresses, and it did not occur to me that +there was anything personal in it. Very soon, however, the hole in +the sky closed in, and the rain dashed down. It seemed a +providential time to eat my luncheon; and I took shelter under a +scraggy pine that had rooted itself in the edge of the rocky slope. +The shower soon passed, and I continued my journey, creeping over the +slippery rocks, and continuing to show my confidence in the +unresponsive trout. The way grew wilder and more grewsome. The +thunder began again, rolling along over the tops of the mountains, +and reverberating in sharp concussions in the gorge: the lightning +also darted down into the darkening passage, and then the rain. +Every enlightened being, even if he is in a fisherman's dress of +shirt and pantaloons, hates to get wet; and I ignominiously crept +under the edge of a sloping bowlder. It was all very well at first, +until streams of water began to crawl along the face of the rock, and +trickle down the back of my neck. This was refined misery, unheroic +and humiliating, as suffering always is when unaccompanied by +resignation. + +A longer time than I knew was consumed in this and repeated efforts +to wait for the slackening and renewing storm to pass away. In the +intervals of calm I still fished, and even descended to what a +sportsman considers incredible baseness: I put a "sinker" on my line. +It is the practice of the country folk, whose only object is to get +fish, to use a good deal of bait, sink the hook to the bottom of the +pools, and wait the slow appetite of the summer trout. I tried this +also. I might as well have fished in a pork barrel. It is true that +in one deep, black, round pool I lured a small trout from the bottom, +and deposited him in the creel; but it was an accident. Though I sat +there in the awful silence (the roar of water and thunder only +emphasized the stillness) full half an hour, I was not encouraged by +another nibble. Hope, however, did not die: I always expected to +find the trout in the next flume; and so I toiled slowly on, +unconscious of the passing time. At each turn of the stream I +expected to see the end, and at each turn I saw a long, narrow +stretch of rocks and foaming water. Climbing out of the ravine was, +in most places, simply impossible; and I began to look with interest +for a slide, where bushes rooted in the scant earth would enable me +to scale the precipice. I did not doubt that I was nearly through +the gorge. I could at length see the huge form of the Giant of the +Valley, scarred with avalanches, at the end of the vista; and it +seemed not far off. But it kept its distance, as only a mountain +can, while I stumbled and slid down the rocky way. The rain had now +set in with persistence, and suddenly I became aware that it was +growing dark; and I said to myself, "If you don't wish to spend the +night in this horrible chasm, you'd better escape speedily." +Fortunately I reached a place where the face of the precipice was +bushgrown, and with considerable labor scrambled up it. + +Having no doubt that I was within half a mile, perhaps within a few +rods, of the house above the entrance of the gorge, and that, in any +event, I should fall into the cart-path in a few minutes, I struck +boldly into the forest, congratulating myself on having escaped out +of the river. So sure was I of my whereabouts that I did not note +the bend of the river, nor look at my compass. The one trout in my +basket was no burden, and I stepped lightly out. + +The forest was of hard-wood, and open, except for a thick undergrowth +of moose-bush. It was raining,--in fact, it had been raining, more +or less, for a month,--and the woods were soaked. This moose-bush is +most annoying stuff to travel through in a rain; for the broad leaves +slap one in the face, and sop him with wet. The way grew every +moment more dingy. The heavy clouds above the thick foliage brought +night on prematurely. It was decidedly premature to a near-sighted +man, whose glasses the rain rendered useless: such a person ought to +be at home early. On leaving the river bank I had borne to the left, +so as to be sure to strike either the clearing or the road, and not +wander off into the measureless forest. I confidently pursued this +course, and went gayly on by the left flank. That I did not come to +any opening or path only showed that I had slightly mistaken the +distance: I was going in the right direction. + +I was so certain of this that I quickened my pace and got up with +alacrity every time I tumbled down amid the slippery leaves and +catching roots, and hurried on. And I kept to the left. It even +occurred to me that I was turning to the left so much that I might +come back to the river again. It grew more dusky, and rained more +violently; but there was nothing alarming in the situation, since I +knew exactly where I was. It was a little mortifying that I had +miscalculated the distance: yet, so far was I from feeling any +uneasiness about this that I quickened my pace again, and, before I +knew it, was in a full run; that is, as full a run as a person can +indulge in in the dusk, with so many trees in the way. No +nervousness, but simply a reasonable desire to get there. I desired +to look upon myself as the person "not lost, but gone before." As +time passed, and darkness fell, and no clearing or road appeared, I +ran a little faster. It didn't seem possible that the people had +moved, or the road been changed; and yet I was sure of my direction. +I went on with an energy increased by the ridiculousness of the +situation, the danger that an experienced woodsman was in of getting +home late for supper; the lateness of the meal being nothing to the +gibes of the unlost. How long I kept this course, and how far I went +on, I do not know; but suddenly I stumbled against an ill-placed +tree, and sat down on the soaked ground, a trifle out of breath. It +then occurred to me that I had better verify my course by the +compass. There was scarcely light enough to distinguish the black +end of the needle. To my amazement, the compass, which was made near +Greenwich, was wrong. Allowing for the natural variation of the +needle, it was absurdly wrong. It made out that I was going south +when I was going north. It intimated that, instead of turning to the +left, I had been making a circuit to the right. According to the +compass, the Lord only knew where I was. + +The inclination of persons in the woods to travel in a circle is +unexplained. I suppose it arises from the sympathy of the legs with +the brain. Most people reason in a circle: their minds go round and +round, always in the same track. For the last half hour I had been +saying over a sentence that started itself: "I wonder where that road +is!" I had said it over till it had lost all meaning. I kept going +round on it; and yet I could not believe that my body had been +traveling in a circle. Not being able to recognize any tracks, I +have no evidence that I had so traveled, except the general testimony +of lost men. + +The compass annoyed me. I've known experienced guides utterly +discredit it. It couldn't be that I was to turn about, and go the +way I had come. Nevertheless, I said to myself, "You'd better keep a +cool head, my boy, or you are in for a night of it. Better listen to +science than to spunk." And I resolved to heed the impartial needle. +I was a little weary of the rough tramping: but it was necessary to +be moving; for, with wet clothes and the night air, I was decidedly +chilly. I turned towards the north, and slipped and stumbled along. +A more uninviting forest to pass the night in I never saw. Every- +thing was soaked. If I became exhausted, it would be necessary to +build a fire; and, as I walked on, I couldn't find a dry bit of wood. +Even if a little punk were discovered in a rotten log I had no +hatchet to cut fuel. I thought it all over calmly. I had the usual +three matches in my pocket. I knew exactly what would happen if I +tried to build a fire. The first match would prove to be wet. The +second match, when struck, would shine and smell, and fizz a little, +and then go out. There would be only one match left. Death would +ensue if it failed. I should get close to the log, crawl under my +hat, strike the match, see it catch, flicker, almost go out (the +reader painfully excited by this time), blaze up, nearly expire, and +finally fire the punk,--thank God! And I said to myself, "The public +don't want any more of this thing: it is played out. Either have a +box of matches, or let the first one catch fire." + +In this gloomy mood I plunged along. The prospect was cheerless; +for, apart from the comfort that a fire would give, it is necessary, +at night, to keep off the wild beasts. I fancied I could hear the +tread of the stealthy brutes following their prey. But there was one +source of profound satisfaction,--the catamount had been killed. Mr. +Colvin, the triangulating surveyor of the Adirondacks, killed him in +his last official report to the State. Whether he despatched him +with a theodolite or a barometer does not matter: he is officially +dead, and none of the travelers can kill him any more. Yet he has +served them a good turn. + +I knew that catamount well. One night when we lay in the bogs of the +South Beaver Meadow, under a canopy of mosquitoes, the serene +midnight was parted by a wild and humanlike cry from a neighboring +mountain. "That's a cat," said the guide. I felt in a moment that +it was the voice of "modern cultchah." "Modern culture," says Mr. +Joseph Cook in a most impressive period,--" modern culture is a child +crying in the wilderness, and with no voice but a cry." That +describes the catamount exactly. The next day, when we ascended the +mountain, we came upon the traces of this brute,--a spot where he had +stood and cried in the night; and I confess that my hair rose with +the consciousness of his recent presence, as it is said to do when a +spirit passes by. + +Whatever consolation the absence of catamount in a dark, drenched, +and howling wilderness can impart, that I experienced; but I thought +what a satire upon my present condition was modern culture, with its +plain thinking and high living! It was impossible to get much +satisfaction out of the real and the ideal,--the me and the not-me. +At this time what impressed me most was the absurdity of my position +looked at in the light of modern civilization and all my advantages +and acquirements. It seemed pitiful that society could do absolutely +nothing for me. It was, in fact, humiliating to reflect that it +would now be profitable to exchange all my possessions for the woods +instinct of the most unlettered guide. I began to doubt the value of +the "culture" that blunts the natural instincts. + +It began to be a question whether I could hold out to walk all night; +for I must travel, or perish. And now I imagined that a spectre was +walking by my side. This was Famine. To be sure, I had only +recently eaten a hearty luncheon: but the pangs of hunger got hold on +me when I thought that I should have no supper, no breakfast; and, as +the procession of unattainable meals stretched before me, I grew +hungrier and hungrier. I could feel that I was becoming gaunt, and +wasting away: already I seemed to be emaciated. It is astonishing +how speedily a jocund, well-conditioned human being can be +transformed into a spectacle of poverty and want, Lose a man in the +Woods, drench him, tear his pantaloons, get his imagination running +on his lost supper and the cheerful fireside that is expecting him, +and he will become haggard in an hour. I am not dwelling upon these +things to excite the reader's sympathy, but only to advise him, if he +contemplates an adventure of this kind, to provide himself with +matches, kindling wood, something more to eat than one raw trout, and +not to select a rainy night for it. + +Nature is so pitiless, so unresponsive, to a person in trouble! I +had read of the soothing companionship of the forest, the pleasure of +the pathless woods. But I thought, as I stumbled along in the dismal +actuality, that, if I ever got out of it, I would write a letter to +the newspapers, exposing the whole thing. There is an impassive, +stolid brutality about the woods that has never been enough insisted +on. I tried to keep my mind fixed upon the fact of man's superiority +to Nature; his ability to dominate and outwit her. My situation was +an amusing satire on this theory. I fancied that I could feel a +sneer in the woods at my detected conceit. There was something +personal in it. The downpour of the rain and the slipperiness of the +ground were elements of discomfort; but there was, besides these, a +kind of terror in the very character of the forest itself. I think +this arose not more from its immensity than from the kind of +stolidity to which I have alluded. It seemed to me that it would be +a sort of relief to kick the trees. I don't wonder that the bears +fall to, occasionally, and scratch the bark off the great pines and +maples, tearing it angrily away. One must have some vent to his +feelings. It is a common experience of people lost in the woods to +lose their heads; and even the woodsmen themselves are not free from +this panic when some accident has thrown them out of their reckoning. +Fright unsettles the judgment: the oppressive silence of the woods is +a vacuum in which the mind goes astray. It's a hollow sham, this +pantheism, I said; being "one with Nature" is all humbug: I should +like to see somebody. Man, to be sure, is of very little account, +and soon gets beyond his depth; but the society of the least human +being is better than this gigantic indifference. The "rapture on the +lonely shore" is agreeable only when you know you can at any moment +go home. + +I had now given up all expectation of finding the road, and was +steering my way as well as I could northward towards the valley. In +my haste I made slow progress. Probably the distance I traveled was +short, and the time consumed not long; but I seemed to be adding mile +to mile, and hour to hour. I had time to review the incidents of the +Russo-Turkish war, and to forecast the entire Eastern question; I +outlined the characters of all my companions left in camp, and +sketched in a sort of comedy the sympathetic and disparaging +observations they would make on my adventure; I repeated something +like a thousand times, without contradiction, "What a fool you were +to leave the river!" I stopped twenty times, thinking I heard its +loud roar, always deceived by the wind in the tree-tops; I began to +entertain serious doubts about the compass,--when suddenly I became +aware that I was no longer on level ground: I was descending a slope; +I was actually in a ravine. In a moment more I was in a brook newly +formed by the rain. "Thank Heaven!" I cried: "this I shall follow, +whatever conscience or the compass says." In this region, all +streams go, sooner or later, into the valley. This ravine, this +stream, no doubt, led to the river. I splashed and tumbled along +down it in mud and water. Down hill we went together, the fall +showing that I must have wandered to high ground. When I guessed +that I must be close to the river, I suddenly stepped into mud up to +my ankles. It was the road,--running, of course, the wrong way, but +still the blessed road. It was a mere canal of liquid mud; but man +had made it, and it would take me home. I was at least three miles +from the point I supposed I was near at sunset, and I had before me a +toilsome walk of six or seven miles, most of the way in a ditch; but +it is truth to say that I enjoyed every step of it. I was safe; I +knew where I was; and I could have walked till morning. The mind had +again got the upper hand of the body, and began to plume itself on +its superiority: it was even disposed to doubt whether it had been +"lost" at all. + + + + +III + +A FIGHT WITH A TROUT + +Trout fishing in the Adirondacks would be a more attractive pastime +than it is but for the popular notion of its danger. The trout is a +retiring and harmless animal, except when he is aroused and forced +into a combat; and then his agility, fierceness, and vindictiveness +become apparent. No one who has studied the excellent pictures +representing men in an open boat, exposed to the assaults of long, +enraged trout flying at them through the open air with open mouth, +ever ventures with his rod upon the lonely lakes of the forest +without a certain terror, or ever reads of the exploits of daring +fishermen without a feeling of admiration for their heroism. Most of +their adventures are thrilling, and all of them are, in narration, +more or less unjust to the trout: in fact, the object of them seems +to be to exhibit, at the expense of the trout, the shrewdness, the +skill, and the muscular power of the sportsman. My own simple story +has few of these recommendations. + +We had built our bark camp one summer and were staying on one of the +popular lakes of the Saranac region. It would be a very pretty +region if it were not so flat, if the margins of the lakes had not +been flooded by dams at the outlets, which have killed the trees, and +left a rim of ghastly deadwood like the swamps of the under-world +pictured by Dore's bizarre pencil,--and if the pianos at the hotels +were in tune. It would be an excellent sporting region also (for +there is water enough) if the fish commissioners would stock the +waters, and if previous hunters had not pulled all the hair and skin +off from the deers' tails. Formerly sportsmen had a habit of +catching the deer by the tails, and of being dragged in mere +wantonness round and round the shores. It is well known that if you +seize a deer by this "holt" the skin will slip off like the peel from +a banana--This reprehensible practice was carried so far that the +traveler is now hourly pained by the sight of peeled-tail deer +mournfully sneaking about the wood. + +We had been hearing, for weeks, of a small lake in the heart of the +virgin forest, some ten miles from our camp, which was alive with +trout, unsophisticated, hungry trout: the inlet to it was described +as stiff with them. In my imagination I saw them lying there in +ranks and rows, each a foot long, three tiers deep, a solid mass. +The lake had never been visited except by stray sable hunters in the +winter, and was known as the Unknown Pond. I determined to explore +it, fully expecting, however, that it would prove to be a delusion, +as such mysterious haunts of the trout usually are. Confiding my +purpose to Luke, we secretly made our preparations, and stole away +from the shanty one morning at daybreak. Each of us carried a boat, +a pair of blankets, a sack of bread, pork, and maple-sugar; while I +had my case of rods, creel, and book of flies, and Luke had an axe +and the kitchen utensils. We think nothing of loads of this sort in +the woods. + +Five miles through a tamarack swamp brought us to the inlet of +Unknown Pond, upon which we embarked our fleet, and paddled down its +vagrant waters. They were at first sluggish, winding among triste +fir-trees, but gradually developed a strong current. At the end of +three miles a loud roar ahead warned us that we were approaching +rapids, falls, and cascades. We paused. The danger was unknown. We +had our choice of shouldering our loads and making a detour through +the woods, or of "shooting the rapids." Naturally we chose the more +dangerous course. Shooting the rapids has often been described, and +I will not repeat the description here. It is needless to say that I +drove my frail bark through the boiling rapids, over the successive +waterfalls, amid rocks and vicious eddies, and landed, half a mile +below with whitened hair and a boat half full of water; and that the +guide was upset, and boat, contents, and man were strewn along the +shore. + +After this common experience we went quickly on our journey, and, a +couple of hours before sundown, reached the lake. If I live to my +dying day, I never shall forget its appearance. The lake is almost +an exact circle, about a quarter of a mile in diameter. The forest +about it was untouched by axe, and unkilled by artificial flooding. +The azure water had a perfect setting of evergreens, in which all the +shades of the fir, the balsam, the pine, and the spruce were +perfectly blended; and at intervals on the shore in the emerald rim +blazed the ruby of the cardinal flower. It was at once evident that +the unruffled waters had never been vexed by the keel of a boat. But +what chiefly attracted my attention, and amused me, was the boiling +of the water, the bubbling and breaking, as if the lake were a vast +kettle, with a fire underneath. A tyro would have been astonished at +this common phenomenon; but sportsmen will at once understand me when +I say that the water boiled with the breaking trout. I studied the +surface for some time to see upon what sort of flies they were +feeding, in order to suit my cast to their appetites; but they seemed +to be at play rather than feeding, leaping high in the air in +graceful curves, and tumbling about each other as we see them in the +Adirondack pictures. + +It is well known that no person who regards his reputation will ever +kill a trout with anything but a fly. It requires some training on +the part of the trout to take to this method. The uncultivated, +unsophisticated trout in unfrequented waters prefers the bait; and +the rural people, whose sole object in going a-fishing appears to be +to catch fish, indulge them in their primitive taste for the worm. +No sportsman, however, will use anything but a fly, except he happens +to be alone. + +While Luke launched my boat and arranged his seat in the stern, I +prepared my rod and line. The rod is a bamboo, weighing seven +ounces, which has to be spliced with a winding of silk thread every +time it is used. This is a tedious process; but, by fastening the +joints in this way, a uniform spring is secured in the rod. No one +devoted to high art would think of using a socket joint. My line was +forty yards of untwisted silk upon a multiplying reel. The "leader" +(I am very particular about my leaders) had been made to order from a +domestic animal with which I had been acquainted. The fisherman +requires as good a catgut as the violinist. The interior of the +house cat, it is well known, is exceedingly sensitive; but it may not +be so well known that the reason why some cats leave the room in +distress when a piano-forte is played is because the two instruments +are not in the same key, and the vibrations of the chords of the one +are in discord with the catgut of the other. On six feet of this +superior article I fixed three artificial flies,--a simple brown +hackle, a gray body with scarlet wings, and one of my own invention, +which I thought would be new to the most experienced fly-catcher. +The trout-fly does not resemble any known species of insect. It is a +"conventionalized" creation, as we say of ornamentation. The theory +is that, fly-fishing being a high art, the fly must not be a tame +imitation of nature, but an artistic suggestion of it. It requires +an artist to construct one; and not every bungler can take a bit of +red flannel, a peacock's feather, a flash of tinsel thread, a cock's +plume, a section of a hen's wing, and fabricate a tiny object that +will not look like any fly, but still will suggest the universal +conventional fly. + +I took my stand in the center of the tipsy boat; and Luke shoved off, +and slowly paddled towards some lily-pads, while I began casting, +unlimbering my tools, as it were. The fish had all disappeared. +I got out, perhaps, fifty feet of line, with no response, and +gradually increased it to one hundred. It is not difficult to learn +to cast; but it is difficult to learn not to snap off the flies at +every throw. Of this, however, we will not speak. I continued +casting for some moments, until I became satisfied that there had +been a miscalculation. Either the trout were too green to know what +I was at, or they were dissatisfied with my offers. I reeled in, and +changed the flies (that is, the fly that was not snapped off). After +studying the color of the sky, of the water, and of the foliage, and +the moderated light of the afternoon, I put on a series of beguilers, +all of a subdued brilliancy, in harmony with the approach of evening. +At the second cast, which was a short one, I saw a splash where the +leader fell, and gave an excited jerk. The next instant I perceived +the game, and did not need the unfeigned "dam" of Luke to convince me +that I had snatched his felt hat from his head and deposited it among +the lilies. Discouraged by this, we whirled about, and paddled over +to the inlet, where a little ripple was visible in the tinted light. +At the very first cast I saw that the hour had come. Three trout +leaped into the air. The danger of this manoeuvre all fishermen +understand. It is one of the commonest in the woods: three heavy +trout taking hold at once, rushing in different directions, smash the +tackle into flinders. I evaded this catch, and threw again. I +recall the moment. A hermit thrush, on the tip of a balsam, uttered +his long, liquid, evening note. Happening to look over my shoulder, +I saw the peak of Marcy gleam rosy in the sky (I can't help it that +Marcy is fifty miles off, and cannot be seen from this region: these +incidental touches are always used). The hundred feet of silk +swished through the air, and the tail-fly fell as lightly on the +water as a three-cent piece (which no slamming will give the weight +of a ten) drops upon the contribution plate. Instantly there was a +rush, a swirl. I struck, and "Got him, by---!" Never mind what Luke +said I got him by. "Out on a fly!" continued that irreverent guide; +but I told him to back water, and make for the center of the lake. +The trout, as soon as he felt the prick of the hook, was off like a +shot, and took out the whole of the line with a rapidity that made it +smoke. "Give him the butt!" shouted Luke. It is the usual remark in +such an emergency. I gave him the butt; and, recognizing the fact +and my spirit, the trout at once sank to the bottom, and sulked. It +is the most dangerous mood of a trout; for you cannot tell what he +will do next. We reeled up a little, and waited five minutes for him +to reflect. A tightening of the line enraged him, and he soon +developed his tactics. Coming to the surface, he made straight for +the boat faster than I could reel in, and evidently with hostile +intentions. "Look out for him!" cried Luke as he came flying in the +air. I evaded him by dropping flat in the bottom of the boat; and, +when I picked my traps up, he was spinning across the lake as if he +had a new idea: but the line was still fast. He did not run far. I +gave him the butt again; a thing he seemed to hate, even as a gift. +In a moment the evil-minded fish, lashing the water in his rage, was +coming back again, making straight for the boat as before. Luke, who +was used to these encounters, having read of them in the writings of +travelers he had accompanied, raised his paddle in self-defense. The +trout left the water about ten feet from the boat, and came directly +at me with fiery eyes, his speckled sides flashing like a meteor. I +dodged as he whisked by with a vicious slap of his bifurcated tail, +and nearly upset the boat. The line was of course slack, and the +danger was that he would entangle it about me, and carry away a leg. +This was evidently his game; but I untangled it, and only lost a +breast button or two by the swiftly-moving string. The trout plunged +into the water with a hissing sound, and went away again with all the +line on the reel. More butt; more indignation on the part of the +captive. The contest had now been going on for half an hour, and I +was getting exhausted. We had been back and forth across the lake, +and round and round the lake. What I feared was that the trout would +start up the inlet and wreck us in the bushes. But he had a new +fancy, and began the execution of a manoeuvre which I had never read +of. Instead of coming straight towards me, he took a large circle, +swimming rapidly, and gradually contracting his orbit. I reeled in, +and kept my eye on him. Round and round he went, narrowing his +circle. I began to suspect the game; which was, to twist my head +off.--When he had reduced the radius of his circle to about twenty- +five feet, he struck a tremendous pace through the water. It would +be false modesty in a sportsman to say that I was not equal to the +occasion. Instead of turning round with him, as he expected, I +stepped to the bow, braced myself, and let the boat swing. Round +went the fish, and round we went like a top. I saw a line of Mount +Marcys all round the horizon; the rosy tint in the west made a broad +band of pink along the sky above the tree-tops; the evening star was +a perfect circle of light, a hoop of gold in the heavens. We whirled +and reeled, and reeled and whirled. I was willing to give the +malicious beast butt and line, and all, if he would only go the other +way for a change. + +When I came to myself, Luke was gaffing the trout at the boat-side. +After we had got him in and dressed him, he weighed three-quarters of +a pound. Fish always lose by being "got in and dressed." It is best +to weigh them while they are in the water. The only really large one +I ever caught got away with my leader when I first struck him. He +weighed ten pounds. + + + + +IV + +A-HUNTING OF THE DEER + +If civilization owes a debt of gratitude to the self-sacrificing +sportsmen who have cleared the Adirondack regions of catamounts and +savage trout, what shall be said of the army which has so nobly +relieved them of the terror of the deer? The deer-slayers have +somewhat celebrated their exploits in print; but I think that justice +has never been done them. + +The American deer in the wilderness, left to himself, leads a +comparatively harmless but rather stupid life, with only such +excitement as his own timid fancy raises. It was very seldom that +one of his tribe was eaten by the North American tiger. For a wild +animal he is very domestic, simple in his tastes, regular in his +habits, affectionate in his family. Unfortunately for his repose, +his haunch is as tender as his heart. Of all wild creatures he is +one of the most graceful in action, and he poses with the skill of an +experienced model. I have seen the goats on Mount Pentelicus scatter +at the approach of a stranger, climb to the sharp points of +projecting rocks, and attitudinize in the most self-conscious manner, +striking at once those picturesque postures against the sky with +which Oriental pictures have made us and them familiar. But the +whole proceeding was theatrical. + +Greece is the home of art, and it is rare to find anything there +natural and unstudied. I presume that these goats have no nonsense +about them when they are alone with the goatherds, any more than the +goatherds have, except when they come to pose in the studio; but the +long ages of culture, the presence always to the eye of the best +models and the forms of immortal beauty, the heroic friezes of the +Temple of Theseus, the marble processions of sacrificial animals, +have had a steady molding, educating influence equal to a society of +decorative art upon the people and the animals who have dwelt in this +artistic atmosphere. The Attic goat has become an artificially +artistic being; though of course he is not now what he was, as a +poser, in the days of Polycletus. There is opportunity for a very +instructive essay by Mr. E. A. Freeman on the decadence of the Attic +goat under the influence of the Ottoman Turk. + +The American deer, in the free atmosphere of our country, and as yet +untouched by our decorative art, is without self-consciousness, and +all his attitudes are free and unstudied. The favorite position of +the deer--his fore-feet in the shallow margin of the lake, among the +lily-pads, his antlers thrown back and his nose in the air at the +moment he hears the stealthy breaking of a twig in the forest--is +still spirited and graceful, and wholly unaffected by the pictures of +him which the artists have put upon canvas. + +Wherever you go in the Northern forest you will find deer-paths. So +plainly marked and well-trodden are they that it is easy to mistake +them for trails made by hunters; but he who follows one of them is +soon in difficulties. He may find himself climbing through cedar +thickets an almost inaccessible cliff, or immersed in the intricacies +of a marsh. The "run," in one direction, will lead to water; but, in +the other, it climbs the highest hills, to which the deer retires, +for safety and repose, in impenetrable thickets. The hunters, in +winter, find them congregated in "yards," where they can be +surrounded and shot as easily as our troops shoot Comanche women and +children in their winter villages. These little paths are full of +pitfalls among the roots and stones; and, nimble as the deer is, he +sometimes breaks one of his slender legs in them. Yet he knows how +to treat himself without a surgeon. I knew of a tame deer in a +settlement in the edge of the forest who had the misfortune to break +her leg. She immediately disappeared with a delicacy rare in an +invalid, and was not seen for two weeks. Her friends had given her +up, supposing that she had dragged herself away into the depths of +the woods, and died of starvation, when one day she returned, cured +of lameness, but thin as a virgin shadow. She had the sense to shun +the doctor; to lie down in some safe place, and patiently wait for +her leg to heal. I have observed in many of the more refined animals +this sort of shyness, and reluctance to give trouble, which excite +our admiration when noticed in mankind. + +The deer is called a timid animal, and taunted with possessing +courage only when he is "at bay"; the stag will fight when he can no +longer flee; and the doe will defend her young in the face of +murderous enemies. The deer gets little credit for this eleventh- +hour bravery. But I think that in any truly Christian condition of +society the deer would not be conspicuous for cowardice. I suppose +that if the American girl, even as she is described in foreign +romances, were pursued by bull-dogs, and fired at from behind fences +every time she ventured outdoors, she would become timid, and +reluctant to go abroad. When that golden era comes which the poets +think is behind us, and the prophets declare is about to be ushered +in by the opening of the "vials," and the killing of everybody who +does not believe as those nations believe which have the most cannon; +when we all live in real concord,--perhaps the gentle-hearted deer +will be respected, and will find that men are not more savage to the +weak than are the cougars and panthers. If the little spotted fawn +can think, it must seem to her a queer world in which the advent of +innocence is hailed by the baying of fierce hounds and the "ping" of +the rifle. + +Hunting the deer in the Adirondacks is conducted in the most manly +fashion. There are several methods, and in none of them is a fair +chance to the deer considered. A favorite method with the natives is +practiced in winter, and is called by them "still hunting." My idea +of still hunting is for one man to go alone into the forest, look +about for a deer, put his wits fairly against the wits of the keen- +scented animal, and kill his deer, or get lost in the attempt. There +seems to be a sort of fairness about this. It is private +assassination, tempered with a little uncertainty about finding your +man. The still hunting of the natives has all the romance and danger +attending the slaughter of sheep in an abattoir. As the snow gets +deep, many deer congregate in the depths of the forest, and keep a +place trodden down, which grows larger as they tramp down the snow in +search of food. In time this refuge becomes a sort of "yard," +surrounded by unbroken snow-banks. The hunters then make their way +to this retreat on snowshoes, and from the top of the banks pick off +the deer at leisure with their rifles, and haul them away to market, +until the enclosure is pretty much emptied. This is one of the +surest methods of exterminating the deer; it is also one of the most +merciful; and, being the plan adopted by our government for +civilizing the Indian, it ought to be popular. The only people who +object to it are the summer sportsmen. They naturally want some +pleasure out of the death of the deer. + +Some of our best sportsmen, who desire to protract the pleasure of +slaying deer through as many seasons as possible, object to the +practice of the hunters, who make it their chief business to +slaughter as many deer in a camping season as they can. Their own +rule, they say, is to kill a deer only when they need venison to eat. +Their excuse is specious. What right have these sophists to put +themselves into a desert place, out of the reach of provisions, and +then ground a right to slay deer on their own improvidence? If it is +necessary for these people to have anything to eat, which I doubt, it +is not necessary that they should have the luxury of venison. + +One of the most picturesque methods of hunting the poor deer is +called "floating." The person, with murder in his heart, chooses a +cloudy night, seats himself, rifle in hand, in a canoe, which is +noiselessly paddled by the guide, and explores the shore of the lake +or the dark inlet. In the bow of the boat is a light in a "jack," +the rays of which are shielded from the boat and its occupants. A +deer comes down to feed upon the lily-pads. The boat approaches him. +He looks up, and stands a moment, terrified or fascinated by the +bright flames. In that moment the sportsman is supposed to shoot the +deer. As an historical fact, his hand usually shakes so that he +misses the animal, or only wounds him; and the stag limps away to die +after days of suffering. Usually, however, the hunters remain out +all night, get stiff from cold and the cramped position in the boat, +and, when they return in the morning to camp, cloud their future +existence by the assertion that they "heard a big buck" moving along +the shore, but the people in camp made so much noise that he was +frightened off. + +By all odds, the favorite and prevalent mode is hunting with dogs. +The dogs do the hunting, the men the killing. The hounds are sent +into the forest to rouse the deer, and drive him from his cover. +They climb the mountains, strike the trails, and go baying and +yelping on the track of the poor beast. The deer have their +established runways, as I said; and, when they are disturbed in their +retreat, they are certain to attempt to escape by following one which +invariably leads to some lake or stream. All that the hunter has to +do is to seat himself by one of these runways, or sit in a boat on +the lake, and wait the coming of the pursued deer. The frightened +beast, fleeing from the unreasoning brutality of the hounds, will +often seek the open country, with a mistaken confidence in the +humanity of man. To kill a deer when he suddenly passes one on a +runway demands presence of mind and quickness of aim: to shoot him +from the boat, after he has plunged panting into the lake, requires +the rare ability to hit a moving object the size of a deer's head a +few rods distant. Either exploit is sufficient to make a hero of a +common man. To paddle up to the swimming deer, and cut his throat, +is a sure means of getting venison, and has its charms for some. +Even women and doctors of divinity have enjoyed this exquisite +pleasure. It cannot be denied that we are so constituted by a wise +Creator as to feel a delight in killing a wild animal which we do not +experience in killing a tame one. + +The pleasurable excitement of a deer-hunt has never, I believe, been +regarded from the deer's point of view. I happen to be in a +position, by reason of a lucky Adirondack experience, to present it +in that light. I am sorry if this introduction to my little story +has seemed long to the reader: it is too late now to skip it; but he +can recoup himself by omitting the story. + +Early on the morning of the 23d of August, 1877, a doe was feeding on +Basin Mountain. The night had been warm and showery, and the morning +opened in an undecided way. The wind was southerly: it is what the +deer call a dog-wind, having come to know quite well the meaning of +"a southerly wind and a cloudy sky." The sole companion of the doe +was her only child, a charming little fawn, whose brown coat was just +beginning to be mottled with the beautiful spots which make this +young creature as lovely as the gazelle. The buck, its father, had +been that night on a long tramp across the mountain to Clear Pond, +and had not yet returned: he went ostensibly to feed on the succulent +lily-pads there. "He feedeth among the lilies until the day break +and the shadows flee away, and he should be here by this hour; but he +cometh not," she said, "leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the +hills." Clear Pond was too far off for the young mother to go with +her fawn for a night's pleasure. It was a fashionable watering-place +at this season among the deer; and the doe may have remembered, not +without uneasiness, the moonlight meetings of a frivolous society +there. But the buck did not come: he was very likely sleeping under +one of the ledges on Tight Nippin. Was he alone? "I charge you, by +the roes and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not nor awake my +love till he please." + +The doe was feeding, daintily cropping the tender leaves of the young +shoots, and turning from time to time to regard her offspring. The +fawn had taken his morning meal, and now lay curled up on a bed of +moss, watching contentedly, with his large, soft brown eyes, every +movement of his mother. The great eyes followed her with an alert +entreaty; and, if the mother stepped a pace or two farther away in +feeding, the fawn made a half movement, as if to rise and follow her. +You see, she was his sole dependence in all the world. But he was +quickly reassured when she turned her gaze on him; and if, in alarm, +he uttered a plaintive cry, she bounded to him at once, and, with +every demonstration of affection, licked his mottled skin till it +shone again. + +It was a pretty picture,--maternal love on the one part, and happy +trust on the other. The doe was a beauty, and would have been so +considered anywhere, as graceful and winning a creature as the sun +that day shone on,--slender limbs, not too heavy flanks, round body, +and aristocratic head, with small ears, and luminous, intelligent, +affectionate eyes. How alert, supple, free, she was! What untaught +grace in every movement! What a charming pose when she lifted her +head, and turned it to regard her child! You would have had a +companion picture if you had seen, as I saw that morning, a baby +kicking about among the dry pine-needles on a ledge above the Au +Sable, in the valley below, while its young mother sat near, with an +easel before her, touching in the color of a reluctant landscape, +giving a quick look at the sky and the outline of the Twin Mountains, +and bestowing every third glance upon the laughing boy,--art in its +infancy. + +The doe lifted her head a little with a quick motion, and turned her +ear to the south. Had she heard something? Probably it was only the +south wind in the balsams. There was silence all about in the +forest. If the doe had heard anything, it was one of the distant +noises of the world. There are in the woods occasional moanings, +premonitions of change, which are inaudible to the dull ears of men, +but which, I have no doubt, the forest-folk hear and understand. If +the doe's suspicions were excited for an instant, they were gone as +soon. With an affectionate glance at her fawn, she continued picking +up her breakfast. + +But suddenly she started, head erect, eyes dilated, a tremor in her +limbs. She took a step; she turned her head to the south; she +listened intently. There was a sound,--a distant, prolonged note, +bell-toned, pervading the woods, shaking the air in smooth +vibrations. It was repeated. The doe had no doubt now. She shook +like the sensitive mimosa when a footstep approaches. It was the +baying of a hound! It was far off,--at the foot of the mountain. +Time enough to fly; time enough to put miles between her and the +hound, before he should come upon her fresh trail; time enough to +escape away through the dense forest, and hide in the recesses of +Panther Gorge; yes, time enough. But there was the fawn. The cry of +the hound was repeated, more distinct this time. The mother +instinctively bounded away a few paces. The fawn started up with an +anxious bleat: the doe turned; she came back; she couldn't leave it. +She bent over it, and licked it, and seemed to say, "Come, my child: +we are pursued: we must go." She walked away towards the west, and +the little thing skipped after her. It was slow going for the +slender legs, over the fallen logs, and through the rasping bushes. +The doe bounded in advance, and waited: the fawn scrambled after her, +slipping and tumbling along, very groggy yet on its legs, and whining +a good deal because its mother kept always moving away from it. The +fawn evidently did not hear the hound: the little innocent would even +have looked sweetly at the dog, and tried to make friends with it, if +the brute had been rushing upon him. By all the means at her command +the doe urged her young one on; but it was slow work. She might have +been a mile away while they were making a few rods. Whenever the +fawn caught up, he was quite content to frisk about. He wanted more +breakfast, for one thing; and his mother wouldn't stand still. She +moved on continually; and his weak legs were tangled in the roots of +the narrow deer-path. + +Shortly came a sound that threw the doe into a panic of terror,--a +short, sharp yelp, followed by a prolonged howl, caught up and +reechoed by other bayings along the mountain-side. The doe knew what +that meant. One hound had caught her trail, and the whole pack +responded to the "view-halloo." The danger was certain now; it was +near. She could not crawl on in this way: the dogs would soon be +upon them. She turned again for flight: the fawn, scrambling after +her, tumbled over, and bleated piteously. The baying, emphasized now +by the yelp of certainty, came nearer. Flight with the fawn was +impossible. The doe returned and stood by it, head erect, and +nostrils distended. She stood perfectly still, but trembling. +Perhaps she was thinking. The fawn took advantage of the situation, +and began to draw his luncheon ration. The doe seemed to have made +up her mind. She let him finish. The fawn, having taken all he +wanted, lay down contentedly, and the doe licked him for a moment. +Then, with the swiftness of a bird, she dashed away, and in a moment +was lost in the forest. She went in the direction of the hounds. + +According to all human calculations, she was going into the jaws of +death. So she was: all human calculations are selfish. She kept +straight on, hearing the baying every moment more distinctly. She +descended the slope of the mountain until she reached the more open +forest of hard-wood. It was freer going here, and the cry of the +pack echoed more resoundingly in the great spaces. She was going due +east, when (judging by the sound, the hounds were not far off, though +they were still hidden by a ridge) she turned short away to the +north, and kept on at a good pace. In five minutes more she heard +the sharp, exultant yelp of discovery, and then the deep-mouthed howl +of pursuit. The hounds had struck her trail where she turned, and +the fawn was safe. + +The doe was in good running condition, the ground was not bad, and +she felt the exhilaration of the chase. For the moment, fear left +her, and she bounded on with the exaltation of triumph. For a +quarter of an hour she went on at a slapping pace, clearing the +moose-bushes with bound after bound, flying over the fallen logs, +pausing neither for brook nor ravine. The baying of the hounds grew +fainter behind her. But she struck a bad piece of going, a dead-wood +slash. It was marvelous to see her skim over it, leaping among its +intricacies, and not breaking her slender legs. No other living +animal could do it. But it was killing work. She began to pant +fearfully; she lost ground. The baying of the hounds was nearer. +She climbed the hard-wood hill at a slower gait; but, once on more +level, free ground, her breath came back to her, and she stretched +away with new courage, and maybe a sort of contempt of her heavy +pursuers. + +After running at high speed perhaps half a mile farther, it occurred +to her that it would be safe now to turn to the west, and, by a wide +circuit, seek her fawn. But, at the moment, she heard a sound that +chilled her heart. It was the cry of a hound to the west of her. +The crafty brute had made the circuit of the slash, and cut off her +retreat. There was nothing to do but to keep on; and on she went, +still to the north, with the noise of the pack behind her. In five +minutes more she had passed into a hillside clearing. Cows and young +steers were grazing there. She heard a tinkle of bells. Below her, +down the mountain slope, were other clearings, broken by patches of +woods. Fences intervened; and a mile or two down lay the valley, the +shining Au Sable, and the peaceful farmhouses. That way also her +hereditary enemies were. Not a merciful heart in all that lovely +valley. She hesitated: it was only for an instant. She must cross +the Slidebrook Valley if possible, and gain the mountain opposite. +She bounded on; she stopped. What was that? From the valley ahead +came the cry of a searching hound. All the devils were loose this +morning. Every way was closed but one, and that led straight down +the mountain to the cluster of houses. Conspicuous among them was a +slender white wooden spire. The doe did not know that it was the +spire of a Christian chapel. But perhaps she thought that human pity +dwelt there, and would be more merciful than the teeth of the hounds. + + "The hounds are baying on my track: + O white man! will you send me back?" + +In a panic, frightened animals will always flee to human-kind from +the danger of more savage foes. They always make a mistake in doing +so. Perhaps the trait is the survival of an era of peace on earth; +perhaps it is a prophecy of the golden age of the future. The +business of this age is murder,--the slaughter of animals, the +slaughter of fellow-men, by the wholesale. Hilarious poets who have +never fired a gun write hunting-songs,--Ti-ra-la: and good bishops +write war-songs,--Ave the Czar! + +The hunted doe went down the "open," clearing the fences splendidly, +flying along the stony path. It was a beautiful sight. But consider +what a shot it was! If the deer, now, could only have been caught I +No doubt there were tenderhearted people in the valley who would have +spared her life, shut her up in a stable, and petted her. Was there +one who would have let her go back to her waiting-fawn? It is the +business of civilization to tame or kill. + +The doe went on. She left the sawmill on John's Brook to her right; +she turned into a wood-path. As she approached Slide Brook, she saw +a boy standing by a tree with a raised rifle. The dogs were not in +sight; but she could hear them coming down the hill. There was no +time for hesitation. With a tremendous burst of speed she cleared +the stream, and, as she touched the bank, heard the "ping" of a rifle +bullet in the air above her. The cruel sound gave wings to the poor +thing. In a moment more she was in the opening: she leaped into the +traveled road. Which way? Below her in the wood was a load of hay: +a man and a boy, with pitchforks in their hands, were running towards +her. She turned south, and flew along the street. The town was up. +Women and children ran to the doors and windows; men snatched their +rifles; shots were fired; at the big boarding-houses, the summer +boarders, who never have anything to do, came out and cheered; a +campstool was thrown from a veranda. Some young fellows shooting at +a mark in the meadow saw the flying deer, and popped away at her; but +they were accustomed to a mark that stood still. It was all so +sudden! There were twenty people who were just going to shoot her; +when the doe leaped the road fence, and went away across a marsh +toward the foothills. It was a fearful gauntlet to run. But nobody +except the deer considered it in that light. Everybody told what he +was just going to do; everybody who had seen the performance was a +kind of hero,--everybody except the deer. For days and days it was +the subject of conversation; and the summer boarders kept their guns +at hand, expecting another deer would come to be shot at. + +The doe went away to the foothills, going now slower, and evidently +fatigued, if not frightened half to death. Nothing is so appalling +to a recluse as half a mile of summer boarders. As the deer entered +the thin woods, she saw a rabble of people start across the meadow in +pursuit. By this time, the dogs, panting, and lolling out their +tongues, came swinging along, keeping the trail, like stupids, and +consequently losing ground when the deer doubled. But, when the doe +had got into the timber, she heard the savage brutes howling across +the meadow. (It is well enough, perhaps, to say that nobody offered +to shoot the dogs.) + +The courage of the panting fugitive was not gone: she was game to the +tip of her high-bred ears. But the fearful pace at which she had +just been going told on her. Her legs trembled, and her heart beat +like a trip-hammer. She slowed her speed perforce, but still fled +industriously up the right bank of the stream. When she had gone a +couple of miles, and the dogs were evidently gaining again, she +crossed the broad, deep brook, climbed the steep left bank, and fled +on in the direction of the Mount-Marcy trail. The fording of the +river threw the hounds off for a time. She knew, by their uncertain +yelping up and down the opposite bank, that she had a little respite: +she used it, however, to push on until the baying was faint in her +ears; and then she dropped, exhausted, upon the ground. + +This rest, brief as it was, saved her life. Roused again by the +baying pack, she leaped forward with better speed, though without +that keen feeling of exhilarating flight that she had in the morning. +It was still a race for life; but the odds were in her--favor, she +thought. She did not appreciate the dogged persistence of the +hounds, nor had any inspiration told her that the race is not to the +swift. + +She was a little confused in her mind where to go; but an instinct +kept her course to the left, and consequently farther away from her +fawn. Going now slower, and now faster, as the pursuit seemed more +distant or nearer, she kept to the southwest, crossed the stream +again, left Panther Gorge on her right, and ran on by Haystack and +Skylight in the direction of the Upper Au Sable Pond. I do not know +her exact course through this maze of mountains, swamps, ravines, and +frightful wildernesses. I only know that the poor thing worked her +way along painfully, with sinking heart and unsteady limbs, lying +down "dead beat" at intervals, and then spurred on by the cry of the +remorseless dogs, until, late in the afternoon, she staggered down +the shoulder of Bartlett, and stood upon the shore of the lake. If +she could put that piece of water between her and her pursuers, she +would be safe. Had she strength to swim it? + +At her first step into the water she saw a sight that sent her back +with a bound. There was a boat mid-lake: two men were in it. One +was rowing: the other had a gun in his hand. They were looking +towards her: they had seen her. (She did not know that they had +heard the baying of hounds on the mountains, and had been lying in +wait for her an hour.) What should she do? The hounds were drawing +near. No escape that way, even if she could still run. With only a +moment's hesitation she plunged into the lake, and struck obliquely +across. Her tired legs could not propel the tired body rapidly. She +saw the boat headed for her. She turned toward the centre of the +lake. The boat turned. She could hear the rattle of the oarlocks. +It was gaining on her. Then there was a silence. Then there was a +splash of the water just ahead of her, followed by a roar round the +lake, the words "Confound it all!" and a rattle of the oars again. +The doe saw the boat nearing her. She turned irresolutely to the +shore whence she came: the dogs were lapping the water, and howling +there. She turned again to the center of the lake. + +The brave, pretty creature was quite exhausted now. In a moment +more, with a rush of water, the boat was on her, and the man at the +oars had leaned over and caught her by the tail. + +"Knock her on the head with that paddle!" he shouted to the gentleman +in the stern. + +The gentleman was a gentleman, with a kind, smooth-shaven face, and +might have been a minister of some sort of everlasting gospel. He +took the paddle in his hand. Just then the doe turned her head, and +looked at him with her great, appealing eyes. + +"I can't do it! my soul, I can't do it!" and he dropped the paddle. +"Oh, let her go!" + +"Let H. go!" was the only response of the guide as he slung the deer +round, whipped out his hunting-knife, and made a pass that severed +her jugular. + +And the gentleman ate that night of the venison. + +The buck returned about the middle of the afternoon. The fawn was +bleating piteously, hungry and lonesome. The buck was surprised. He +looked about in the forest. He took a circuit, and came back. His +doe was nowhere to be seen. He looked down at the fawn in a helpless +sort of way. The fawn appealed for his supper. The buck had nothing +whatever to give his child,--nothing but his sympathy. If he said +anything, this is what he said: "I'm the head of this family; but, +really, this is a novel case. I've nothing whatever for you. I +don't know what to do. I've the feelings of a father; but you can't +live on them. Let us travel." + +The buck walked away: the little one toddled after him. They +disappeared in the forest. + + + + +V + +A CHARACTER STUDY + +There has been a lively inquiry after the primeval man. Wanted, a +man who would satisfy the conditions of the miocene environment, and +yet would be good enough for an ancestor. We are not particular +about our ancestors, if they are sufficiently remote; but we must +have something. Failing to apprehend the primeval man, science has +sought the primitive man where he exists as a survival in present +savage races. He is, at best, only a mushroom growth of the recent +period (came in, probably, with the general raft of mammalian fauna); +but he possesses yet some rudimentary traits that may be studied. + +It is a good mental exercise to try to fix the mind on the primitive +man divested of all the attributes he has acquired in his struggles +with the other mammalian fauna. Fix the mind on an orange, the +ordinary occupation of the metaphysician: take from it (without +eating it) odor, color, weight, form, substance, and peel; then let +the mind still dwell on it as an orange. The experiment is perfectly +successful; only, at the end of it, you haven't any mind. Better +still, consider the telephone: take away from it the metallic disk, +and the magnetized iron, and the connecting wire, and then let the +mind run abroad on the telephone. The mind won't come back. I have +tried by this sort of process to get a conception of the primitive +man. I let the mind roam away back over the vast geologic spaces, +and sometimes fancy I see a dim image of him stalking across the +terrace epoch of the quaternary period. + +But this is an unsatisfying pleasure. The best results are obtained +by studying the primitive man as he is left here and there in our +era, a witness of what has been; and I find him most to my mind in +the Adirondack system of what geologists call the Champlain epoch. I +suppose the primitive man is one who owes more to nature than to the +forces of civilization. What we seek in him are the primal and +original traits, unmixed with the sophistications of society, and +unimpaired by the refinements of an artificial culture. He would +retain the primitive instincts, which are cultivated out of the +ordinary, commonplace man. I should expect to find him, by reason of +an unrelinquished kinship, enjoying a special communion with nature,- +-admitted to its mysteries, understanding its moods, and able to +predict its vagaries. He would be a kind of test to us of what we +have lost by our gregarious acquisitions. On the one hand, there +would be the sharpness of the senses, the keen instincts (which the +fox and the beaver still possess), the ability to find one's way in +the pathless forest, to follow a trail, to circumvent the wild +denizens of the woods; and, on the other hand, there would be the +philosophy of life which the primitive man, with little external aid, +would evolve from original observation and cogitation. It is our +good fortune to know such a man; but it is difficult to present him +to a scientific and caviling generation. He emigrated from somewhat +limited conditions in Vermont, at an early age, nearly half a century +ago, and sought freedom for his natural development backward in the +wilds of the Adirondacks. Sometimes it is a love of adventure and +freedom that sends men out of the more civilized conditions into the +less; sometimes it is a constitutional physical lassitude which leads +them to prefer the rod to the hoe, the trap to the sickle, and the +society of bears to town meetings and taxes. I think that Old +Mountain Phelps had merely the instincts of the primitive man, and +never any hostile civilizing intent as to the wilderness into which +he plunged. Why should he want to slash away the forest and plow up +the ancient mould, when it is infinitely pleasanter to roam about in +the leafy solitudes, or sit upon a mossy log and listen to the +chatter of birds and the stir of beasts? Are there not trout in the +streams, gum exuding from the spruce, sugar in the maples, honey in +the hollow trees, fur on the sables, warmth in hickory logs? Will +not a few days' planting and scratching in the "open" yield potatoes +and rye? And, if there is steadier diet needed than venison and +bear, is the pig an expensive animal? If Old Phelps bowed to the +prejudice or fashion of his age (since we have come out of the +tertiary state of things), and reared a family, built a frame house +in a secluded nook by a cold spring, planted about it some apple +trees and a rudimentary garden, and installed a group of flaming +sunflowers by the door, I am convinced that it was a concession that +did not touch his radical character; that is to say, it did not +impair his reluctance to split oven-wood. + +He was a true citizen of the wilderness. Thoreau would have liked +him, as he liked Indians and woodchucks, and the smell of pine +forests; and, if Old Phelps had seen Thoreau, he would probably have +said to him, "Why on airth, Mr. Thoreau, don't you live accordin' to +your preachin'?" You might be misled by the shaggy suggestion of Old +Phelps's given name--Orson--into the notion that he was a mighty +hunter, with the fierce spirit of the Berserkers in his veins. +Nothing could be farther from the truth. The hirsute and grisly +sound of Orson expresses only his entire affinity with the untamed +and the natural, an uncouth but gentle passion for the freedom and +wildness of the forest. Orson Phelps has only those unconventional +and humorous qualities of the bear which make the animal so beloved +in literature; and one does not think of Old Phelps so much as a +lover of nature,--to use the sentimental slang of the period,--as a +part of nature itself. + +His appearance at the time when as a "guide" he began to come into +public notice fostered this impression,--a sturdy figure with long +body and short legs, clad in a woolen shirt and butternut-colored +trousers repaired to the point of picturesqueness, his head +surmounted by a limp, light-brown felt hat, frayed away at the top, +so that his yellowish hair grew out of it like some nameless fern out +of a pot. His tawny hair was long and tangled, matted now many years +past the possibility of being entered by a comb. + +His features were small and delicate, and set in the frame of a +reddish beard, the razor having mowed away a clearing about the +sensitive mouth, which was not seldom wreathed with a childlike and +charming smile. Out of this hirsute environment looked the small +gray eyes, set near together; eyes keen to observe, and quick to +express change of thought; eyes that made you believe instinct can +grow into philosophic judgment. His feet and hands were of +aristocratic smallness, although the latter were not worn away by +ablutions; in fact, they assisted his toilet to give you the +impression that here was a man who had just come out of the ground,-- +a real son of the soil, whose appearance was partially explained by +his humorous relation to-soap. "Soap is a thing," he said, "that I +hain't no kinder use for." His clothes seemed to have been put on +him once for all, like the bark of a tree, a long time ago. The +observant stranger was sure to be puzzled by the contrast of this +realistic and uncouth exterior with the internal fineness, amounting +to refinement and culture, that shone through it all. What communion +had supplied the place of our artificial breeding to this man? + +Perhaps his most characteristic attitude was sitting on a log, with a +short pipe in his mouth. If ever man was formed to sit on a log, it +was Old Phelps. He was essentially a contemplative person. Walking +on a country road, or anywhere in the "open," was irksome to him. He +had a shambling, loose-jointed gait, not unlike that of the bear: his +short legs bowed out, as if they had been more in the habit of +climbing trees than of walking. On land, if we may use that +expression, he was something like a sailor; but, once in the rugged +trail or the unmarked route of his native forest, he was a different +person, and few pedestrians could compete with him. The vulgar +estimate of his contemporaries, that reckoned Old Phelps "lazy," was +simply a failure to comprehend the conditions of his being. It is +the unjustness of civilization that it sets up uniform and artificial +standards for all persons. The primitive man suffers by them much as +the contemplative philosopher does, when one happens to arrive in +this busy, fussy world. + +If the appearance of Old Phelps attracts attention, his voice, when +first heard, invariably startles the listener. A small, high- +pitched, half-querulous voice, it easily rises into the shrillest +falsetto; and it has a quality in it that makes it audible in all the +tempests of the forest, or the roar of rapids, like the piping of a +boatswain's whistle at sea in a gale. He has a way of letting it +rise as his sentence goes on, or when he is opposed in argument, or +wishes to mount above other voices in the conversation, until it +dominates everything. Heard in the depths of the woods, quavering +aloft, it is felt to be as much a part of nature, an original force, +as the northwest wind or the scream of the hen-hawk. When he is +pottering about the camp-fire, trying to light his pipe with a twig +held in the flame, he is apt to begin some philosophical observation +in a small, slow, stumbling voice, which seems about to end in +defeat; when he puts on some unsuspected force, and the sentence ends +in an insistent shriek. Horace Greeley had such a voice, and could +regulate it in the same manner. But Phelps's voice is not seldom +plaintive, as if touched by the dreamy sadness of the woods +themselves. + +When Old Mountain Phelps was discovered, he was, as the reader has +already guessed, not understood by his contemporaries. His +neighbors, farmers in the secluded valley, had many of them grown +thrifty and prosperous, cultivating the fertile meadows, and +vigorously attacking the timbered mountains; while Phelps, with not +much more faculty of acquiring property than the roaming deer, had +pursued the even tenor of the life in the forest on which he set out. +They would have been surprised to be told that Old Phelps owned more +of what makes the value of the Adirondacks than all of them put +together, but it was true. This woodsman, this trapper, this hunter, +this fisherman, this sitter on a log, and philosopher, was the real +proprietor of the region over which he was ready to guide the +stranger. It is true that he had not a monopoly of its geography or +its topography (though his knowledge was superior in these respects); +there were other trappers, and more deadly hunters, and as intrepid +guides: but Old Phelps was the discoverer of the beauties and +sublimities of the mountains; and, when city strangers broke into the +region, he monopolized the appreciation of these delights and wonders +of nature. I suppose that in all that country he alone had noticed +the sunsets, and observed the delightful processes of the seasons, +taken pleasure in the woods for themselves, and climbed mountains +solely for the sake of the prospect. He alone understood what was +meant by "scenery." In the eyes of his neighbors, who did not know +that he was a poet and a philosopher, I dare say he appeared to be a +slack provider, a rather shiftless trapper and fisherman; and his +passionate love of the forest and the mountains, if it was noticed, +was accounted to him for idleness. When the appreciative tourist +arrived, Phelps was ready, as guide, to open to him all the wonders +of his possessions; he, for the first time, found an outlet for his +enthusiasm, and a response to his own passion. It then became known +what manner of man this was who had grown up here in the +companionship of forests, mountains, and wild animals; that these +scenes had highly developed in him the love of beauty, the aesthetic +sense, delicacy of appreciation, refinement of feeling; and that, in +his solitary wanderings and musings, the primitive man, self-taught, +had evolved for himself a philosophy and a system of things. And it +was a sufficient system, so long as it was not disturbed by external +skepticism. When the outer world came to him, perhaps he had about +as much to give to it as to receive from it; probably more, in his +own estimation; for there is no conceit like that of isolation. + +Phelps loved his mountains. He was the discoverer of Marcy, and +caused the first trail to be cut to its summit, so that others could +enjoy the noble views from its round and rocky top. To him it was, +in noble symmetry and beauty, the chief mountain of the globe. To +stand on it gave him, as he said, "a feeling of heaven up-h'isted- +ness." He heard with impatience that Mount Washington was a thousand +feet higher, and he had a childlike incredulity about the surpassing +sublimity of the Alps. Praise of any other elevation he seemed to +consider a slight to Mount Marcy, and did not willingly hear it, any +more than a lover hears the laudation of the beauty of another woman +than the one he loves. When he showed us scenery he loved, it made +him melancholy to have us speak of scenery elsewhere that was finer. +And yet there was this delicacy about him, that he never over-praised +what he brought us to see, any more than one would over-praise a +friend of whom he was fond. I remember that when for the first time, +after a toilsome journey through the forest, the splendors of the +Lower Au Sable Pond broke upon our vision,--that low-lying silver +lake, imprisoned by the precipices which it reflected in its bosom,-- +he made no outward response to our burst of admiration: only a quiet +gleam of the eye showed the pleasure our appreciation gave him. As +some one said, it was as if his friend had been admired--a friend +about whom he was unwilling to say much himself, but well pleased to +have others praise. + +Thus far, we have considered Old Phelps as simply the product of the +Adirondacks; not so much a self-made man (as the doubtful phrase has +it) as a natural growth amid primal forces. But our study is +interrupted by another influence, which complicates the problem, but +increases its interest. No scientific observer, so far as we know, +has ever been able to watch the development of the primitive man, +played upon and fashioned by the hebdomadal iteration of "Greeley's +Weekly Tri-bune." Old Phelps educated by the woods is a fascinating +study; educated by the woods and the Tri-bune, he is a phenomenon. +No one at this day can reasonably conceive exactly what this +newspaper was to such a mountain valley as Keene. If it was not a +Providence, it was a Bible. It was no doubt owing to it that +Democrats became as scarce as moose in the Adirondacks. But it is +not of its political aspect that I speak. I suppose that the most +cultivated and best informed portion of the earth's surface--the +Western Reserve of Ohio, as free from conceit as it is from a +suspicion that it lacks anything owes its pre-eminence solely to this +comprehensive journal. It received from it everything except a +collegiate and a classical education,--things not to be desired, +since they interfere with the self-manufacture of man. If Greek had +been in this curriculum, its best known dictum would have been +translated, "Make thyself." This journal carried to the community +that fed on it not only a complete education in all departments of +human practice and theorizing, but the more valuable and satisfying +assurance that there was nothing more to be gleaned in the universe +worth the attention of man. This panoplied its readers in +completeness. Politics, literature, arts, sciences, universal +brotherhood and sisterhood, nothing was omitted; neither the poetry +of Tennyson, nor the philosophy of Margaret Fuller; neither the +virtues of association, nor of unbolted wheat. The laws of political +economy and trade were laid down as positively and clearly as the +best way to bake beans, and the saving truth that the millennium +would come, and come only when every foot of the earth was subsoiled. + +I do not say that Orson Phelps was the product of nature and the Tri- +bune: but he cannot be explained without considering these two +factors. To him Greeley was the Tri-bune, and the Tri-bune was +Greeley; and yet I think he conceived of Horace Greeley as something +greater than his newspaper, and perhaps capable of producing another +journal equal to it in another part of the universe. At any rate, so +completely did Phelps absorb this paper and this personality that he +was popularly known as "Greeley" in the region where he lived. +Perhaps a fancied resemblance of the two men in the popular mind had +something to do with this transfer of name. There is no doubt that +Horace Greeley owed his vast influence in the country to his genius, +nor much doubt that he owed his popularity in the rural districts to +James Gordon Bennett; that is, to the personality of the man which +the ingenious Bennett impressed upon the country. That he despised +the conventionalities of society, and was a sloven in his toilet, was +firmly believed; and the belief endeared him to the hearts of the +people. To them "the old white coat"--an antique garment of +unrenewed immortality--was as much a subject of idolatry as the +redingote grise to the soldiers of the first Napoleon, who had seen +it by the campfires on the Po and on the Borysthenes, and believed +that he would come again in it to lead them against the enemies of +France. The Greeley of the popular heart was clad as Bennett said he +was clad. It was in vain, even pathetically in vain, that he +published in his newspaper the full bill of his fashionable tailor +(the fact that it was receipted may have excited the animosity of +some of his contemporaries) to show that he wore the best broadcloth, +and that the folds of his trousers followed the city fashion of +falling outside his boots. If this revelation was believed, it made +no sort of impression in the country. The rural readers were not to +be wheedled out of their cherished conception of the personal +appearance of the philosopher of the Tri-bune. + +That the Tri-bune taught Old Phelps to be more Phelps than he would +have been without it was part of the independence-teaching mission of +Greeley's paper. The subscribers were an army, in which every man +was a general. And I am not surprised to find Old Phelps lately +rising to the audacity of criticising his exemplar. In some +recently-published observations by Phelps upon the philosophy of +reading is laid down this definition: "If I understand the necessity +or use of reading, it is to reproduce again what has been said or +proclaimed before. Hence, letters, characters, &c., are arranged in +all the perfection they possibly can be, to show how certain language +has been spoken by the, original author. Now, to reproduce by +reading, the reading should be so perfectly like the original that no +one standing out of sight could tell the reading from the first time +the language was spoken." + +This is illustrated by the highest authority at hand: I have heard as +good readers read, and as poor readers, as almost any one in this +region. If I have not heard as many, I have had a chance to hear +nearly the extreme in variety. Horace Greeley ought to have been a +good reader. Certainly but few, if any, ever knew every word of the +English language at a glance more readily than he did, or knew the +meaning of every mark of punctuation more clearly; but he could not +read proper. 'But how do you know?' says one. From the fact I heard +him in the same lecture deliver or produce remarks in his own +particular way, that, if they had been published properly in print, a +proper reader would have reproduced them again the same way. In the +midst of those remarks Mr. Greeley took up a paper, to reproduce by +reading part of a speech that some one else had made; and his reading +did not sound much more like the man that first read or made the +speech than the clatter of a nail factory sounds like a well- +delivered speech. Now, the fault was not because Mr. Greeley did not +know how to read as well as almost any man that ever lived, if not +quite: but in his youth he learned to read wrong; and, as it is ten +times harder to unlearn anything than it is to learn it, he, like +thousands of others, could never stop to unlearn it, but carried it +on through his whole life. + +Whether a reader would be thanked for reproducing one of Horace +Greeley's lectures as he delivered it is a question that cannot +detain us here; but the teaching that he ought to do so, I think, +would please Mr. Greeley. + +The first driblets of professional tourists and summer boarders who +arrived among the Adirondack Mountains a few years ago found Old +Phelps the chief and best guide of the region. Those who were eager +to throw off the usages of civilization, and tramp and camp in the +wilderness, could not but be well satisfied with the aboriginal +appearance of this guide; and when he led off into the woods, axe in +hand, and a huge canvas sack upon his shoulders, they seemed to be +following the Wandering Jew. The contents--of this sack would have +furnished a modern industrial exhibition, provisions cooked and raw, +blankets, maple-sugar, tinware, clothing, pork, Indian meal, flour, +coffee, tea, &c. Phelps was the ideal guide: he knew every foot of +the pathless forest; he knew all woodcraft, all the signs of the +weather, or, what is the same thing, how to make a Delphic prediction +about it. He was fisherman and hunter, and had been the comrade of +sportsmen and explorers; and his enthusiasm for the beauty and +sublimity of the region, and for its untamable wildness, amounted to +a passion. He loved his profession; and yet it very soon appeared +that he exercised it with reluctance for those who had neither +ideality, nor love for the woods. Their presence was a profanation +amid the scenery he loved. To guide into his private and secret +haunts a party that had no appreciation of their loveliness disgusted +him. It was a waste of his time to conduct flippant young men and +giddy girls who made a noisy and irreverent lark of the expedition. +And, for their part, they did not appreciate the benefit of being +accompanied by a poet and a philosopher. They neither understood nor +valued his special knowledge and his shrewd observations: they didn't +even like his shrill voice; his quaint talk bored them. It was true +that, at this period, Phelps had lost something of the activity of +his youth; and the habit of contemplative sitting on a log and +talking increased with the infirmities induced by the hard life of +the woodsman. Perhaps he would rather talk, either about the woods- +life or the various problems of existence, than cut wood, or busy +himself in the drudgery of the camp. His critics went so far as to +say, "Old Phelps is a fraud." They would have said the same of +Socrates. Xantippe, who never appreciated the world in which +Socrates lived, thought he was lazy. Probably Socrates could cook no +better than Old Phelps, and no doubt went "gumming" about Athens with +very little care of what was in the pot for dinner. + +If the summer visitors measured Old Phelps, he also measured them by +his own standards. He used to write out what he called "short-faced +descriptions" of his comrades in the woods, which were never so +flattering as true. It was curious to see how the various qualities +which are esteemed in society appeared in his eyes, looked at merely +in their relation to the limited world he knew, and judged by their +adaptation to the primitive life. It was a much subtler comparison +than that of the ordinary guide, who rates his traveler by his +ability to endure on a march, to carry a pack, use an oar, hit a +mark, or sing a song. Phelps brought his people to a test of their +naturalness and sincerity, tried by contact with the verities of the +woods. If a person failed to appreciate the woods, Phelps had no +opinion of him or his culture; and yet, although he was perfectly +satisfied with his own philosophy of life, worked out by close +observation of nature and study of the Tri-bune, he was always eager +for converse with superior minds, with those who had the advantage of +travel and much reading, and, above all, with those who had any +original "speckerlation." Of all the society he was ever permitted +to enjoy, I think he prized most that of Dr. Bushnell. The doctor +enjoyed the quaint and first-hand observations of the old woodsman, +and Phelps found new worlds open to him in the wide ranges of the +doctor's mind. They talked by the hour upon all sorts of themes, the +growth of the tree, the habits of wild animals, the migration of +seeds, the succession of oak and pine, not to mention theology, and +the mysteries of the supernatural. + +I recall the bearing of Old Phelps, when, several years ago, he +conducted a party to the summit of Mount Marcy by the way he had +"bushed out." This was his mountain, and he had a peculiar sense of +ownership in it. In a way, it was holy ground; and he would rather +no one should go on it who did not feel its sanctity. Perhaps it was +a sense of some divine relation in it that made him always speak of +it as "Mercy." To him this ridiculously dubbed Mount Marcy was +always "Mount Mercy." By a like effort to soften the personal +offensiveness of the nomenclature of this region, he invariably spoke +of Dix's Peak, one of the southern peaks of the range, as "Dixie." +It was some time since Phelps himself had visited his mountain; and, +as he pushed on through the miles of forest, we noticed a kind of +eagerness in the old man, as of a lover going to a rendezvous. Along +the foot of the mountain flows a clear trout stream, secluded and +undisturbed in those awful solitudes, which is the "Mercy Brook" of +the old woodsman. That day when he crossed it, in advance of his +company, he was heard to say in a low voice, as if greeting some +object of which he was shyly fond, "So, little brook, do I meet you +once more?" and when we were well up the mountain, and emerged from +the last stunted fringe of vegetation upon the rock-bound slope, I +saw Old Phelps, who was still foremost, cast himself upon the ground, +and heard him cry, with an enthusiasm that was intended for no mortal +ear, "I'm with you once again!" His great passion very rarely found +expression in any such theatrical burst. The bare summit that day +was swept by a fierce, cold wind, and lost in an occasional chilling +cloud. Some of the party, exhausted by the climb, and shivering in +the rude wind, wanted a fire kindled and a cup of tea made, and +thought this the guide's business. Fire and tea were far enough from +his thought. He had withdrawn himself quite apart, and wrapped in a +ragged blanket, still and silent as the rock he stood on, was gazing +out upon the wilderness of peaks. The view from Marcy is peculiar. +It is without softness or relief. The narrow valleys are only dark +shadows; the lakes are bits of broken mirror. From horizon to +horizon there is a tumultuous sea of billows turned to stone. You +stand upon the highest billow; you command the situation; you have +surprised Nature in a high creative act; the mighty primal energy has +only just become repose. This was a supreme hour to Old Phelps. +Tea! I believe the boys succeeded in kindling a fire; but the +enthusiastic stoic had no reason to complain of want of appreciation +in the rest of the party. When we were descending, he told us, with +mingled humor and scorn, of a party of ladies he once led to the top +of the mountain on a still day, who began immediately to talk about +the fashions! As he related the scene, stopping and facing us in the +trail, his mild, far-in eyes came to the front, and his voice rose +with his language to a kind of scream. + +"Why, there they were, right before the greatest view they ever saw, +talkin' about the fashions!" + +Impossible to convey the accent of contempt in which he pronounced +the word "fashions," and then added, with a sort of regretful +bitterness, "I was a great mind to come down, and leave 'em there." + +In common with the Greeks, Old Phelps personified the woods, +mountains, and streams. They had not only personality, but +distinctions of sex. It was something beyond the characterization of +the hunter, which appeared, for instance, when he related a fight +with a panther, in such expressions as, "Then Mr. Panther thought he +would see what he could do," etc. He was in "imaginative sympathy" +with all wild things. The afternoon we descended Marcy, we went away +to the west, through the primeval forests, toward Avalanche and +Colden, and followed the course of the charming Opalescent. When we +reached the leaping stream, Phelps exclaimed, + +"Here's little Miss Opalescent!" + +"Why don't you say Mr. Opalescent?" some one asked. + +"Oh, she's too pretty!" And too pretty she was, with her foam-white +and rainbow dress, and her downfalls, and fountainlike uprising. A +bewitching young person we found her all that summer afternoon. + +This sylph-like person had little in common with a monstrous lady +whose adventures in the wildernes Phelps was fond of relating. She +was built some thing on the plan of the mountains, and her ambition +to explore was equal to her size. Phelps and the other guides once +succeeded in raising her to the top of Marcy; but the feat of getting +a hogshead of molasses up there would have been easier. In +attempting to give us an idea of her magnitude tha night, as we sat +in the forest camp, Phelps hesitated a moment, while he cast his eye +around the woods: "Waal, there ain't no tree!" + +It is only by recalling fragmentary remarks and incidents that I can +put the reader in possession of the peculiarities of my subject; and +this involves the wrenching of things out of their natural order and +continuity, and introducing them abruptly, an abruptness illustrated +by the remark of "Old Man Hoskins" (which Phelps liked to quote), +when one day he suddenly slipped down a bank into a thicket, and +seated himself in a wasps' nest: "I hain't no business here; but here +I be!" + +The first time we went into camp on the Upper Au Sable Pond, which +has been justly celebrated as the most prettily set sheet of water in +the region, we were disposed to build our shanty on the south side, +so that we could have in full view the Gothics and that loveliest of +mountain contours. To our surprise, Old Phelps, whose sentimental +weakness for these mountains we knew, opposed this. His favorite +camping ground was on the north side,--a pretty site in itself, but +with no special view. In order to enjoy the lovely mountains, we +should be obliged to row out into the lake: we wanted them always +before our eyes,--at sunrise and sunset, and in the blaze of noon. +With deliberate speech, as if weighing our arguments and disposing of +them, he replied, "Waal, now, them Gothics ain't the kinder scenery +you want ter hog down!" + +It was on quiet Sundays in the woods, or in talks by the camp-fire, +that Phelps came out as the philosopher, and commonly contributed the +light of his observations. Unfortunate marriages, and marriages in +general, were, on one occasion, the subject of discussion; and a good +deal of darkness had been cast on it by various speakers; when Phelps +suddenly piped up, from a log where he had sat silent, almost +invisible, in the shadow and smoke, "Waal, now, when you've said all +there is to be said, marriage is mostly for discipline." + +Discipline, certainly, the old man had, in one way or another; and +years of solitary communing in the forest had given him, perhaps, a +childlike insight into spiritual concerns. Whether he had formulated +any creed or what faith he had, I never knew. Keene Valley had a +reputation of not ripening Christians any more successfully than +maize, the season there being short; and on our first visit it was +said to contain but one Bible Christian, though I think an accurate +census disclosed three. Old Phelps, who sometimes made abrupt +remarks in trying situations, was not included in this census; but he +was the disciple of supernaturalism in a most charming form. I have +heard of his opening his inmost thoughts to a lady, one Sunday, after +a noble sermon of Robertson's had been read in the cathedral +stillness of the forest. His experience was entirely first-hand, and +related with unconsciousness that it was not common to all. There +was nothing of the mystic or the sentimentalist, only a vivid +realism, in that nearness of God of which he spoke,--"as near some- +times as those trees,"--and of the holy voice, that, in a time of +inward struggle, had seemed to him to come from the depths of the +forest, saying, "Poor soul, I am the way." + +In later years there was a "revival" in Keene Valley, the result of +which was a number of young "converts," whom Phelps seemed to regard +as a veteran might raw recruits, and to have his doubts what sort of +soldiers they would make. + +"Waal, Jimmy," he said to one of them, "you've kindled a pretty good +fire with light wood. That's what we do of a dark night in the +woods, you know but we do it just so as we can look around and find +the solid wood: so now put on your solid wood." + +In the Sunday Bible classes of the period Phelps was a perpetual +anxiety to the others, who followed closely the printed lessons, and +beheld with alarm his discursive efforts to get into freer air and +light. His remarks were the most refreshing part of the exercises, +but were outside of the safe path into which the others thought it +necessary to win him from his "speckerlations." The class were one +day on the verses concerning "God's word" being "written on the +heart," and were keeping close to the shore, under the guidance of +"Barnes's Notes," when Old Phelps made a dive to the bottom, and +remarked that he had "thought a good deal about the expression, +'God's word written on the heart,' and had been asking himself how +that was to be done; and suddenly it occurred to him (having been +much interested lately in watching the work of a photographer) that, +when a photograph is going to be taken, all that has to be done is to +put the object in position, and the sun makes the picture; and so he +rather thought that all we had got to do was to put our hearts in +place, and God would do the writin'." + +Phelps's theology, like his science, is first-hand. In the woods, +one day, talk ran on the Trinity as being nowhere asserted as a +doctrine in the Bible, and some one suggested that the attempt to +pack these great and fluent mysteries into one word must always be +more or less unsatisfactory. "Ye-es," droned Phelps: "I never could +see much speckerlation in that expression the Trinity. Why, they'd a +good deal better say Legion." + +The sentiment of the man about nature, or his poetic sensibility, was +frequently not to be distinguished from a natural religion, and was +always tinged with the devoutness of Wordsworth's verse. Climbing +slowly one day up the Balcony,--he was more than usually calm and +slow,--he espied an exquisite fragile flower in the crevice of a +rock, in a very lonely spot. + +It seems as if," he said, or rather dreamed out, it seems as if the +Creator had kept something just to look at himself." + +To a lady whom he had taken to Chapel Pond (a retired but rather +uninteresting spot), and who expressed a little disappointment at its +tameness, saying, of this "Why, Mr. Phelps, the principal charm of +this place seems to be its loneliness," + +"Yes," he replied in gentle and lingering tones, and its nativeness. +"It lies here just where it was born." + +Rest and quiet had infinite attractions for him. A secluded opening +in the woods was a "calm spot." He told of seeing once, or rather +being in, a circular rainbow. He stood on Indian Head, overlooking +the Lower Lake, so that he saw the whole bow in the sky and the lake, +and seemed to be in the midst of it; "only at one place there was an +indentation in it, where it rested on the lake, just enough to keep +it from rolling off." This "resting" of the sphere seemed to give +him great comfort. + +One Indian-summer morning in October, some ladies found the old man +sitting on his doorstep smoking a short pipe. + +He gave no sign of recognition except a twinkle of the eye, being +evidently quite in harmony with the peaceful day. They stood there a +full minute before he opened his mouth: then he did not rise, but +slowly took his pipe from his mouth, and said in a dreamy way, +pointing towards the brook,-- + +"Do you see that tree?" indicating a maple almost denuded of leaves, +which lay like a yellow garment cast at its feet. "I've been +watching that tree all the morning. There hain't been a breath of +wind: but for hours the leaves have been falling, falling, just as +you see them now; and at last it's pretty much bare." And after a +pause, pensively: "Waal, I suppose its hour had come." + +This contemplative habit of Old Phelps is wholly unappreciated by his +neighbors; but it has been indulged in no inconsiderable part of his +life. Rising after a time, he said, "Now I want you to go with me +and see my golden city I've talked so much about." He led the way to +a hill-outlook, when suddenly, emerging from the forest, the +spectators saw revealed the winding valley and its stream. He said +quietly, "There is my golden city." Far below, at their feet, they +saw that vast assemblage of birches and "popples," yellow as gold in +the brooding noonday, and slender spires rising out of the glowing +mass. Without another word, Phelps sat a long time in silent +content: it was to him, as Bunyan says, "a place desirous to be in." + +Is this philosopher contented with what life has brought him? +Speaking of money one day, when we had asked him if he should do +differently if he had his life to live over again, he said, "Yes, but +not about money. To have had hours such as I have had in these +mountains, and with such men as Dr. Bushnell and Dr. Shaw and Mr. +Twichell, and others I could name, is worth all the money the world +could give." He read character very well, and took in accurately the +boy nature. "Tom" (an irrepressible, rather overdone specimen),--" +Tom's a nice kind of a boy; but he's got to come up against a +snubbin'-post one of these days."--"Boys!" he once said: "you can't +git boys to take any kinder notice of scenery. I never yet saw a boy +that would look a second time at a sunset. Now, a girl will some +times; but even then it's instantaneous,--comes an goes like the +sunset. As for me," still speaking of scenery, "these mountains +about here, that I see every day, are no more to me, in one sense, +than a man's farm is to him. What mostly interests me now is when I +see some new freak or shape in the face of Nature." + +In literature it may be said that Old Phelps prefers the best in the +very limited range that has been open to him. Tennyson is his +favorite among poets an affinity explained by the fact that they are +both lotos-eaters. Speaking of a lecture-room talk of Mr. Beecher's +which he had read, he said, "It filled my cup about as full as I +callerlate to have it: there was a good deal of truth in it, and some +poetry; waal, and a little spice, too. We've got to have the spice, +you know." He admired, for different reasons, a lecture by Greeley +that he once heard, into which so much knowledge of various kinds was +crowded that he said he "made a reg'lar gobble of it." He was not +without discrimination, which he exercised upon the local preaching +when nothing better offered. Of one sermon he said, "The man began +way back at the creation, and just preached right along down; and he +didn't say nothing, after all. It just seemed to me as if he was +tryin' to git up a kind of a fix-up." + +Old Phelps used words sometimes like algebraic signs, and had a habit +of making one do duty for a season together for all occasions. +"Speckerlation" and "callerlation" and "fix-up" are specimens of +words that were prolific in expression. An unusual expression, or an +unusual article, would be charactcrized as a "kind of a scientific +literary git-up." + +"What is the program for tomorrow?" I once asked him. "Waal, I +callerlate, if they rig up the callerlation they callerlate on, we'll +go to the Boreas." Starting out for a day's tramp in the woods, he +would ask whether we wanted to take a "reg'lar walk, or a random +scoot,"--the latter being a plunge into the pathless forest. When he +was on such an expedition, and became entangled in dense brush, and +maybe a network of "slash" and swamp, he was like an old wizard, as +he looked here and there, seeking a way, peering into the tangle, or +withdrawing from a thicket, and muttering to himself, "There ain't no +speckerlation there." And when the way became altogether +inscrutable,--"Waal, this is a reg'lar random scoot of a rigmarole." +As some one remarked, "The dictionary in his hands is like clay in +the hands of the potter." " A petrifaction was a kind of a hard-wood +chemical git-up." + +There is no conceit, we are apt to say, like that born of isolation +from the world, and there are no such conceited people as those who +have lived all their lives in the woods. Phelps was, however, +unsophisticated in his until the advent of strangers into his life, +who brought in literature and various other disturbing influences. I +am sorry to say that the effect has been to take off something of the +bloom of his simplicity, and to elevate him into an oracle. I +suppose this is inevitable as soon as one goes into print; and Phelps +has gone into print in the local papers. He has been bitten with the +literary "git up." Justly regarding most of the Adirondack +literature as a "perfect fizzle," he has himself projected a work, +and written much on the natural history of his region. Long ago he +made a large map of the mountain country; and, until recent surveys, +it was the only one that could lay any claim to accuracy. His +history is no doubt original in form, and unconventional in +expression. Like most of the writers of the seventeenth century, and +the court ladies and gentlemen of the eighteenth century, he is an +independent speller. Writing of his work on the Adirondacks, he +says, "If I should ever live to get this wonderful thing written, I +expect it will show one thing, if no more; and that is, that every +thing has an opposite. I expect to show in this that literature has +an opposite, if I do not show any thing els. We could not enjoy the +blessings and happiness of riteousness if we did not know innicuty +was in the world: in fact, there would be no riteousness without +innicuty." Writing also of his great enjoyment of being in the +woods, especially since he has had the society there of some people +he names, he adds, "And since I have Literature, Siance, and Art all +spread about on the green moss of the mountain woods or the gravell +banks of a cristle stream, it seems like finding roses, honeysuckels, +and violets on a crisp brown cliff in December. You know I don't +believe much in the religion of seramony; but any riteous thing that +has life and spirit in it is food for me." I must not neglect to +mention an essay, continued in several numbers of his local paper, on +"The Growth of the Tree," in which he demolishes the theory of Mr. +Greeley, whom he calls "one of the best vegetable philosophers," +about "growth without seed." He treats of the office of sap: "All +trees have some kind of sap and some kind of operation of sap flowing +in their season," the dissemination of seeds, the processes of +growth, the power of healing wounds, the proportion of roots to +branches, &c. Speaking of the latter, he says, "I have thought it +would be one of the greatest curiosities on earth to see a thrifty +growing maple or elm, that had grown on a deep soil interval to be +two feet in diameter, to be raised clear into the air with every root +and fibre down to the minutest thread, all entirely cleared of soil, +so that every particle could be seen in its natural position. I +think it would astonish even the wise ones." From his instinctive +sympathy with nature, he often credits vegetable organism with +"instinctive judgment." "Observation teaches us that a tree is +given powerful instincts, which would almost appear to amount to +judgment in some cases, to provide for its own wants and +necessities." + +Here our study must cease. When the primitive man comes into +literature, he is no longer primitive. + + + + +VI + +CAMPING OUT + +It seems to be agreed that civilization is kept up only by a constant +effort: Nature claims its own speedily when the effort is relaxed. +If you clear a patch of fertile ground in the forest, uproot the +stumps, and plant it, year after year, in potatoes and maize, you say +you have subdued it. But, if you leave it for a season or two, a +kind of barbarism seems to steal out upon it from the circling woods; +coarse grass and brambles cover it; bushes spring up in a wild +tangle; the raspberry and the blackberry flower and fruit; and the +humorous bear feeds upon them. The last state of that ground is +worse than the first. + +Perhaps the cleared spot is called Ephesus. There is a splendid city +on the plain; there are temples and theatres on the hills; the +commerce of the world seeks its port; the luxury of the Orient flows +through its marble streets. You are there one day when the sea has +receded: the plain is a pestilent marsh; the temples, the theatres, +the lofty gates have sunken and crumbled, and the wild-brier runs +over them; and, as you grow pensive in the most desolate place in the +world, a bandit lounges out of a tomb, and offers to relieve you of +all that which creates artificial distinctions in society. The +higher the civilization has risen, the more abject is the desolation +of barbarism that ensues. The most melancholy spot in the +Adirondacks is not a tamarack-swamp, where the traveler wades in moss +and mire, and the atmosphere is composed of equal active parts of +black-flies, mosquitoes, and midges. It is the village of the +Adirondack Iron-Works, where the streets of gaunt houses are falling +to pieces, tenantless; the factory-wheels have stopped; the furnaces +are in ruins; the iron and wooden machinery is strewn about in +helpless detachment; and heaps of charcoal, ore, and slag proclaim an +arrested industry. Beside this deserted village, even Calamity Pond, +shallow, sedgy, with its ragged shores of stunted firs, and its +melancholy shaft that marks the spot where the proprietor of the +iron-works accidentally shot himself, is cheerful. + +The instinct of barbarism that leads people periodically to throw +aside the habits of civilization, and seek the freedom and discomfort +of the woods, is explicable enough; but it is not so easy to +understand why this passion should be strongest in those who are most +refined, and most trained in intellectual and social fastidiousness. +Philistinism and shoddy do not like the woods, unless it becomes +fashionable to do so; and then, as speedily as possible, they +introduce their artificial luxuries, and reduce the life in the +wilderness to the vulgarity of a well-fed picnic. It is they who +have strewn the Adirondacks with paper collars and tin cans. The +real enjoyment of camping and tramping in the woods lies in a return +to primitive conditions of lodging, dress, and food, in as total an +escape as may be from the requirements of civilization. And it +remains to be explained why this is enjoyed most by those who are +most highly civilized. It is wonderful to see how easily the +restraints of society fall off. Of course it is not true that +courtesy depends upon clothes with the best people; but, with others, +behavior hangs almost entirely upon dress. Many good habits are +easily got rid of in the woods. Doubt sometimes seems to be felt +whether Sunday is a legal holiday there. It becomes a question of +casuistry with a clergyman whether he may shoot at a mark on Sunday, +if none of his congregation are present. He intends no harm: he only +gratifies a curiosity to see if he can hit the mark. Where shall he +draw the line? Doubtless he might throw a stone at a chipmunk, or +shout at a loon. Might he fire at a mark with an air-gun that makes +no noise? He will not fish or hunt on Sunday (although he is no more +likely to catch anything that day than on any other); but may he eat +trout that the guide has caught on Sunday, if the guide swears he +caught them Saturday night? Is there such a thing as a vacation in +religion? How much of our virtue do we owe to inherited habits? + +I am not at all sure whether this desire to camp outside of +civilization is creditable to human nature, or otherwise. We hear +sometimes that the Turk has been merely camping for four centuries in +Europe. I suspect that many of us are, after all, really camping +temporarily in civilized conditions; and that going into the +wilderness is an escape, longed for, into our natural and preferred +state. Consider what this "camping out" is, that is confessedly so +agreeable to people most delicately reared. I have no desire to +exaggerate its delights. + +The Adirondack wilderness is essentially unbroken. A few bad roads +that penetrate it, a few jolting wagons that traverse them, a few +barn-like boarding-houses on the edge of the forest, where the +boarders are soothed by patent coffee, and stimulated to unnatural +gayety by Japan tea, and experimented on by unique cookery, do little +to destroy the savage fascination of the region. In half an hour, at +any point, one can put himself into solitude and every desirable +discomfort. The party that covets the experience of the camp comes +down to primitive conditions of dress and equipment. There are +guides and porters to carry the blankets for beds, the raw +provisions, and the camp equipage; and the motley party of the +temporarily decivilized files into the woods, and begins, perhaps by +a road, perhaps on a trail, its exhilarating and weary march. The +exhilaration arises partly from the casting aside of restraint, +partly from the adventure of exploration; and the weariness, from the +interminable toil of bad walking, a heavy pack, and the grim monotony +of trees and bushes, that shut out all prospect, except an occasional +glimpse of the sky. Mountains are painfully climbed, streams forded, +lonesome lakes paddled over, long and muddy "carries" traversed. +Fancy this party the victim of political exile, banished by the law, +and a more sorrowful march could not be imagined; but the voluntary +hardship becomes pleasure, and it is undeniable that the spirits of +the party rise as the difficulties increase. + +For this straggling and stumbling band the world is young again: it +has come to the beginning of things; it has cut loose from tradition, +and is free to make a home anywhere: the movement has all the promise +of a revolution. All this virginal freshness invites the primitive +instincts of play and disorder. The free range of the forests +suggests endless possibilities of exploration and possession. +Perhaps we are treading where man since the creation never trod +before; perhaps the waters of this bubbling spring, which we deepen +by scraping out the decayed leaves and the black earth, have never +been tasted before, except by the wild denizens of these woods. We +cross the trails of lurking animals,--paths that heighten our sense +of seclusion from the world. The hammering of the infrequent +woodpecker, the call of the lonely bird, the drumming of the solitary +partridge,--all these sounds do but emphasize the lonesomeness of +nature. The roar of the mountain brook, dashing over its bed of +pebbles, rising out of the ravine, and spreading, as it were, a mist +of sound through all the forest (continuous beating waves that have +the rhythm of eternity in them), and the fitful movement of the air- +tides through the balsams and firs and the giant pines,--how these +grand symphonies shut out the little exasperations of our vexed life! +It seems easy to begin life over again on the simplest terms. +Probably it is not so much the desire of the congregation to escape +from the preacher, or of the preacher to escape from himself, that +drives sophisticated people into the wilderness, as it is the +unconquered craving for primitive simplicity, the revolt against the +everlasting dress-parade of our civilization. From this monstrous +pomposity even the artificial rusticity of a Petit Trianon is a +relief. It was only human nature that the jaded Frenchman of the +regency should run away to the New World, and live in a forest-hut +with an Indian squaw; although he found little satisfaction in his +act of heroism, unless it was talked about at Versailles. + +When our trampers come, late in the afternoon, to the bank of a +lovely lake where they purpose to enter the primitive life, +everything is waiting for them in virgin expectation. There is a +little promontory jutting into the lake, and sloping down to a sandy +beach, on which the waters idly lapse, and shoals of red-fins and +shiners come to greet the stranger; the forest is untouched by the +axe; the tender green sweeps the water's edge; ranks of slender firs +are marshaled by the shore; clumps of white-birch stems shine in +satin purity among the evergreens; the boles of giant spruces, +maples, and oaks, lifting high their crowns of foliage, stretch away +in endless galleries and arcades; through the shifting leaves the +sunshine falls upon the brown earth; overhead are fragments of blue +sky; under the boughs and in chance openings appear the bluer lake +and the outline of the gracious mountains. The discoverers of this +paradise, which they have entered to destroy, note the babbling of +the brook that flows close at hand; they hear the splash of the +leaping fish; they listen to the sweet, metallic song of the evening +thrush, and the chatter of the red squirrel, who angrily challenges +their right to be there. But the moment of sentiment passes. This +party has come here to eat and to sleep, and not to encourage Nature +in her poetic attitudinizing. + +The spot for a shanty is selected. This side shall be its opening, +towards the lake; and in front of it the fire, so that the smoke +shall drift into the hut, and discourage the mosquitoes; yonder shall +be the cook's fire and the path to the spring. The whole colony +bestir themselves in the foundation of a new home,--an enterprise +that has all the fascination, and none of the danger, of a veritable +new settlement in the wilderness. The axes of the guides resound in +the echoing spaces; great trunks fall with a crash; vistas are opened +towards the lake and the mountains. The spot for the shanty is +cleared of underbrush; forked stakes are driven into the ground, +cross-pieces are laid on them, and poles sloping back to the ground. +In an incredible space of time there is the skeleton of a house, +which is entirely open in front. The roof and sides must be covered. +For this purpose the trunks of great spruces are skinned. The +woodman rims the bark near the foot of the tree, and again six feet +above, and slashes it perpendicularly; then, with a blunt stick, he +crowds off this thick hide exactly as an ox is skinned. It needs but +a few of these skins to cover the roof; and they make a perfectly +water-tight roof, except when it rains. Meantime busy hands have +gathered boughs of the spruce and the feathery balsam, and shingled +the ground underneath the shanty for a bed. It is an aromatic bed: +in theory it is elastic and consoling. Upon it are spread the +blankets. The sleepers, of all sexes and ages, are to lie there in a +row, their feet to the fire, and their heads under the edge of the +sloping roof. Nothing could be better contrived. The fire is in +front: it is not a fire, but a conflagration--a vast heap of green +logs set on fire--of pitch, and split dead-wood, and crackling +balsams, raging and roaring. By the time, twilight falls, the cook +has prepared supper. Everything has been cooked in a tin pail and a +skillet,--potatoes, tea, pork, mutton, slapjacks. You wonder how +everything could have been prepared in so few utensils. When you +eat, the wonder ceases: everything might have been cooked in one +pail. It is a noble meal; and nobly is it disposed of by these +amateur savages, sitting about upon logs and roots of trees. Never +were there such potatoes, never beans that seemed to have more of the +bean in them, never such curly pork, never trout with more Indian- +meal on them, never mutton more distinctly sheepy; and the tea, drunk +out of a tin cup, with a lump of maple-sugar dissolved in it,--it is +the sort of tea that takes hold, lifts the hair, and disposes the +drinker to anecdote and hilariousness. There is no deception about +it: it tastes of tannin and spruce and creosote. Everything, in +short, has the flavor of the wilderness and a free life. It is +idyllic. And yet, with all our sentimentality, there is nothing +feeble about the cooking. The slapjacks are a solid job of work, +made to last, and not go to pieces in a person's stomach like a +trivial bun: we might record on them, in cuneiform characters, our +incipient civilization; and future generations would doubtless turn +them up as Acadian bricks. Good, robust victuals are what the +primitive man wants. + +Darkness falls suddenly. Outside the ring of light from our +conflagration the woods are black. There is a tremendous impression +of isolation and lonesomeness in our situation. We are the prisoners +of the night. The woods never seemed so vast and mysterious. The +trees are gigantic. There are noises that we do not understand,-- +mysterious winds passing overhead, and rambling in the great +galleries, tree-trunks grinding against each other, undefinable stirs +and uneasinesses. The shapes of those who pass into the dimness are +outlined in monstrous proportions. The spectres, seated about in the +glare of the fire, talk about appearances and presentiments and +religion. The guides cheer the night with bear-fights, and catamount +encounters, and frozen-to-death experiences, and simple tales of +great prolixity and no point, and jokes of primitive lucidity. We +hear catamounts, and the stealthy tread of things in the leaves, and +the hooting of owls, and, when the moon rises, the laughter of the +loon. Everything is strange, spectral, fascinating. + +By and by we get our positions in the shanty for the night, and +arrange the row of sleepers. The shanty has become a smoke-house by +this time: waves of smoke roll into it from the fire. It is only by +lying down, and getting the head well under the eaves, that one can +breathe. No one can find her "things"; nobody has a pillow. At +length the row is laid out, with the solemn protestation of intention +to sleep. The wind, shifting, drives away the smoke. + +Good-night is said a hundred times; positions are readjusted, more +last words, new shifting about, final remarks; it is all so +comfortable and romantic; and then silence. Silence continues for a +minute. The fire flashes up; all the row of heads is lifted up +simultaneously to watch it; showers of sparks sail aloft into the +blue night; the vast vault of greenery is a fairy spectacle. How the +sparks mount and twinkle and disappear like tropical fireflies, and +all the leaves murmur, and clap their hands! Some of the sparks do +not go out: we see them flaming in the sky when the flame of the fire +has died down. Well, good-night, goodnight. More folding of the +arms to sleep; more grumbling about the hardness of a hand-bag, or +the insufficiency of a pocket-handkerchief, for a pillow. Good- +night. Was that a remark?--something about a root, a stub in the +ground sticking into the back. "You couldn't lie along a hair?"--- +"Well, no: here's another stub. It needs but a moment for the +conversation to become general,--about roots under the shoulder, +stubs in the back, a ridge on which it is impossible for the sleeper +to balance, the non-elasticity of boughs, the hardness of the ground, +the heat, the smoke, the chilly air. Subjects of remarks multiply. +The whole camp is awake, and chattering like an aviary. The owl is +also awake; but the guides who are asleep outside make more noise +than the owls. Water is wanted, and is handed about in a dipper. +Everybody is yawning; everybody is now determined to go to sleep in +good earnest. A last good-night. There is an appalling silence. It +is interrupted in the most natural way in the world. Somebody has +got the start, and gone to sleep. He proclaims the fact. He seems +to have been brought up on the seashore, and to know how to make all +the deep-toned noises of the restless ocean. He is also like a war- +horse; or, it is suggested, like a saw-horse. How malignantly he +snorts, and breaks off short, and at once begins again in another +key! One head is raised after another. + +"Who is that?" + +"Somebody punch him." + +"Turn him over." + +"Reason with him." + +The sleeper is turned over. The turn was a mistake. He was before, +it appears, on his most agreeable side. The camp rises in +indignation. The sleeper sits up in bewilderment. Before he can go +off again, two or three others have preceded him. They are all +alike. You never can judge what a person is when he is awake. There +are here half a dozen disturbers of the peace who should be put in +solitary confinement. At midnight, when a philosopher crawls out to +sit on a log by the fire, and smoke a pipe, a duet in tenor and +mezzo-soprano is going on in the shanty, with a chorus always coming +in at the wrong time. Those who are not asleep want to know why the +smoker doesn't go to bed. He is requested to get some water, to +throw on another log, to see what time it is, to note whether it +looks like rain. A buzz of conversation arises. She is sure she +heard something behind the shanty. He says it is all nonsense. +"Perhaps, however, it might be a mouse." + +"Mercy! Are there mice?" + +"Plenty." + +"Then that's what I heard nibbling by my head. I shan't sleep a +wink! Do they bite?" + +"No, they nibble; scarcely ever take a full bite out." + +"It's horrid!" + +Towards morning it grows chilly; the guides have let the fire go out; +the blankets will slip down. Anxiety begins to be expressed about +the dawn. + +"What time does the sun rise?" + +"Awful early. Did you sleep? + +"Not a wink. And you?" + +"In spots. I'm going to dig up this root as soon as it is light +enough." + +"See that mist on the lake, and the light just coming on the Gothics! +I'd no idea it was so cold: all the first part of the night I was +roasted." + +"What were they talking about all night?" + +When the party crawls out to the early breakfast, after it has washed +its faces in the lake, it is disorganized, but cheerful. Nobody +admits much sleep; but everybody is refreshed, and declares it +delightful. It is the fresh air all night that invigorates; or maybe +it is the tea, or the slap-jacks. The guides have erected a table of +spruce bark, with benches at the sides; so that breakfast is taken in +form. It is served on tin plates and oak chips. After breakfast +begins the day's work. It may be a mountain-climbing expedition, or +rowing and angling in the lake, or fishing for trout in some stream +two or three miles distant. Nobody can stir far from camp without a +guide. Hammocks are swung, bowers are built novel-reading begins, +worsted work appears, cards are shuffled and dealt. The day passes +in absolute freedom from responsibility to one's self. At night when +the expeditions return, the camp resumes its animation. Adventures +are recounted, every statement of the narrator being disputed and +argued. Everybody has become an adept in woodcraft; but nobody +credits his neighbor with like instinct. Society getting resolved +into its elements, confidence is gone. + +Whilst the hilarious party are at supper, a drop or two of rain +falls. The head guide is appealed to. Is it going to rain? He says +it does rain. But will it be a rainy night? The guide goes down to +the lake, looks at the sky, and concludes that, if the wind shifts a +p'int more, there is no telling what sort of weather we shall have. +Meantime the drops patter thicker on the leaves overhead, and the +leaves, in turn, pass the water down to the table; the sky darkens; +the wind rises; there is a kind of shiver in the woods; and we scud +away into the shanty, taking the remains of our supper, and eating it +as best we can. The rain increases. The fire sputters and fumes. +All the trees are dripping, dripping, and the ground is wet. We +cannot step outdoors without getting a drenching. Like sheep, we are +penned in the little hut, where no one can stand erect. The rain +swirls into the open front, and wets the bottom of the blankets. The +smoke drives in. We curl up, and enjoy ourselves. The guides at +length conclude that it is going to be damp. The dismal situation +sets us all into good spirits; and it is later than the night before +when we crawl under our blankets, sure this time of a sound sleep, +lulled by the storm and the rain resounding on the bark roof. How +much better off we are than many a shelter-less wretch! We are as +snug as dry herrings. At the moment, however, of dropping off to +sleep, somebody unfortunately notes a drop of water on his face; this +is followed by another drop; in an instant a stream is established. +He moves his head to a dry place. Scarcely has he done so, when he +feels a dampness in his back. Reaching his hand outside, he finds a +puddle of water soaking through his blanket. By this time, somebody +inquires if it is possible that the roof leaks. One man has a stream +of water under him; another says it is coming into his ear. The roof +appears to be a discriminating sieve. Those who are dry see no need +of such a fuss. The man in the corner spreads his umbrella, and the +protective measure is resented by his neighbor. In the darkness +there is recrimination. One of the guides, who is summoned, suggests +that the rubber blankets be passed out, and spread over the roof. +The inmates dislike the proposal, saying that a shower-bath is no +worse than a tub-bath. The rain continues to soak down. The fire is +only half alive. The bedding is damp. Some sit up, if they can find +a dry spot to sit on, and smoke. Heartless observations are made. A +few sleep. And the night wears on. The morning opens cheerless. +The sky is still leaking, and so is the shanty. The guides bring in +a half-cooked breakfast. The roof is patched up. There are reviving +signs of breaking away, delusive signs that create momentary +exhilaration. Even if the storm clears, the woods are soaked. There +is no chance of stirring. The world is only ten feet square. + +This life, without responsibility or clean clothes, may continue as +long as the reader desires. There are, those who would like to live +in this free fashion forever, taking rain and sun as heaven pleases; +and there are some souls so constituted that they cannot exist more +than three days without their worldly--baggage. Taking the party +altogether, from one cause or another it is likely to strike camp +sooner than was intended. And the stricken camp is a melancholy +sight. The woods have been despoiled; the stumps are ugly; the +bushes are scorched; the pine-leaf-strewn earth is trodden into mire; +the landing looks like a cattle-ford; the ground is littered with all +the unsightly dibris of a hand-to-hand life; the dismantled shanty is +a shabby object; the charred and blackened logs, where the fire +blazed, suggest the extinction of family life. Man has wrought his +usual wrong upon Nature, and he can save his self-respect only by +moving to virgin forests. + +And move to them he will, the next season, if not this. For he who +has once experienced the fascination of the woods-life never escapes +its enticement: in the memory nothing remains but its charm. + + + + +VII + +A WILDERNESS ROMANCE + +At the south end of Keene Valley, in the Adirondacks, stands Noon +Mark, a shapely peak thirty-five hundred feet above the sea, which, +with the aid of the sun, tells the Keene people when it is time to +eat dinner. From its summit you look south into a vast wilderness +basin, a great stretch of forest little trodden, and out of whose +bosom you can hear from the heights on a still day the loud murmur of +the Boquet. This basin of unbroken green rises away to the south and +southeast into the rocky heights of Dix's Peak and Nipple Top,--the +latter a local name which neither the mountain nor the fastidious +tourist is able to shake off. Indeed, so long as the mountain keeps +its present shape as seen from the southern lowlands, it cannot get +on without this name. + +These two mountains, which belong to the great system of which Marcy +is the giant centre, and are in the neighborhood of five thousand +feet high, on the southern outposts of the great mountains, form the +gate-posts of the pass into the south country. This opening between +them is called Hunter's Pass. It is the most elevated and one of the +wildest of the mountain passes. Its summit is thirty-five hundred +feet high. In former years it is presumed the hunters occasionally +followed the game through; but latterly it is rare to find a guide +who has been that way, and the tin-can and paper-collar tourists have +not yet made it a runway. This seclusion is due not to any inherent +difficulty of travel, but to the fact that it lies a little out of +the way. + +We went through it last summer; making our way into the jaws from the +foot of the great slides on Dix, keeping along the ragged spurs of +the mountain through the virgin forest. The pass is narrow, walled +in on each side by precipices of granite, and blocked up with +bowlders and fallen trees, and beset with pitfalls in the roads +ingeniously covered with fair-seeming moss. When the climber +occasionally loses sight of a leg in one of these treacherous holes, +and feels a cold sensation in his foot, he learns that he has dipped +into the sources of the Boquet, which emerges lower down into falls +and rapids, and, recruited by creeping tributaries, goes brawling +through the forest basin, and at last comes out an amiable and boat- +bearing stream in the valley of Elizabeth Town. From the summit +another rivulet trickles away to the south, and finds its way through +a frightful tamarack swamp, and through woods scarred by ruthless +lumbering, to Mud Pond, a quiet body of water, with a ghastly fringe +of dead trees, upon which people of grand intentions and weak +vocabulary are trying to fix the name of Elk Lake. The descent of +the pass on that side is precipitous and exciting. The way is in the +stream itself; and a considerable portion of the distance we swung +ourselves down the faces of considerable falls, and tumbled down +cascades. The descent, however, was made easy by the fact that it +rained, and every footstep was yielding and slippery. Why sane +people, often church-members respectably connected, will subject +themselves to this sort of treatment,--be wet to the skin, bruised by +the rocks, and flung about among the bushes and dead wood until the +most necessary part of their apparel hangs in shreds,--is one of the +delightful mysteries of these woods. I suspect that every man is at +heart a roving animal, and likes, at intervals, to revert to the +condition of the bear and the catamount. + +There is no trail through Hunter's Pass, which, as I have intimated, +is the least frequented portion of this wilderness. Yet we were +surprised to find a well-beaten path a considerable portion of the +way and wherever a path is possible. It was not a mere deer's +runway: these are found everywhere in the mountains. It is trodden +by other and larger animals, and is, no doubt, the highway of beasts. +It bears marks of having been so for a long period, and probably a +period long ago. Large animals are not common in these woods now, +and you seldom meet anything fiercer than the timid deer and the +gentle bear. But in days gone by, Hunter's Pass was the highway of +the whole caravan of animals who were continually going backward; and +forwards, in the aimless, roaming way that beasts have, between Mud +Pond and the Boquet Basin. I think I can see now the procession of +them between the heights of Dix and Nipple Top; the elk and the moose +shambling along, cropping the twigs; the heavy bear lounging by with +his exploring nose; the frightened deer trembling at every twig that +snapped beneath his little hoofs, intent on the lily-pads of the +pond; the raccoon and the hedgehog, sidling along; and the velvet- +footed panther, insouciant and conscienceless, scenting the path with +a curious glow in his eye, or crouching in an overhanging tree ready +to drop into the procession at the right moment. Night and day, year +after year, I see them going by, watched by the red fox and the +comfortably clad sable, and grinned at by the black cat,--the +innocent, the vicious, the timid and the savage, the shy and the +bold, the chattering slanderer and the screaming prowler, the +industrious and the peaceful, the tree-top critic and the crawling +biter,--just as it is elsewhere. It makes me blush for my species +when I think of it. This charming society is nearly extinct now: of +the larger animals there only remain the bear, who minds his own +business more thoroughly than any person I know, and the deer, who +would like to be friendly with men, but whose winning face and gentle +ways are no protection from the savageness of man, and who is treated +with the same unpitying destruction as the snarling catamount. I +have read in history that the amiable natives of Hispaniola fared no +better at the hands of the brutal Spaniards than the fierce and +warlike Caribs. As society is at present constituted in Christian +countries, I would rather for my own security be a cougar than a +fawn. + +There is not much of romantic interest in the Adirondacks. Out of +the books of daring travelers, nothing. I do not know that the Keene +Valley has any history. The mountains always stood here, and the Au +Sable, flowing now in shallows and now in rippling reaches over the +sands and pebbles, has for ages filled the air with continuous and +soothing sounds. Before the Vermonters broke into it some three- +quarters of a century ago, and made meadows of its bottoms and sugar- +camps of its fringing woods, I suppose the red Indian lived here in +his usual discomfort, and was as restless as his successors, the +summer boarders. But the streams were full of trout then, and the +moose and the elk left their broad tracks on the sands of the river. +But of the Indian there is no trace. There is a mound in the valley, +much like a Tel in the country of Bashan beyond the Jordan, that may +have been built by some pre-historic race, and may contain treasure +and the seated figure of a preserved chieftain on his slow way to +Paradise. What the gentle and accomplished race of the Mound- +Builders should want in this savage region where the frost kills the +early potatoes and stunts the scanty oats, I do not know. I have +seen no trace of them, except this Tel, and one other slight relic, +which came to light last summer, and is not enough to found the +history of a race upon. + +Some workingmen, getting stone from the hillside on one of the little +plateaus, for a house-cellar, discovered, partly embedded, a piece of +pottery unique in this region. With the unerring instinct of workmen +in regard to antiquities, they thrust a crowbar through it, and broke +the bowl into several pieces. The joint fragments, however, give us +the form of the dish. It is a bowl about nine inches high and eight +inches across, made of red clay, baked but not glazed. The bottom is +round, the top flares into four comers, and the rim is rudely but +rather artistically ornamented with criss-cross scratches made when +the clay was soft. The vessel is made of clay not found about here, +and it is one that the Indians formerly living here could not form. +Was it brought here by roving Indians who may have made an expedition +to the Ohio; was it passed from tribe to tribe; or did it belong to a +race that occupied the country before the Indian, and who have left +traces of their civilized skill in pottery scattered all over the +continent? + +If I could establish the fact that this jar was made by a prehistoric +race, we should then have four generations in this lovely valley:-the +amiable Pre-Historic people (whose gentle descendants were probably +killed by the Spaniards in the West Indies); the Red Indians; the +Keene Flaters (from Vermont); and the Summer Boarders, to say nothing +of the various races of animals who have been unable to live here +since the advent of the Summer Boarders, the valley being not +productive enough to sustain both. This last incursion has been more +destructive to the noble serenity of the forest than all the +preceding. + +But we are wandering from Hunter's Pass. The western walls of it are +formed by the precipices of Nipple Top, not so striking nor so bare +as the great slides of Dix which glisten in the sun like silver, but +rough and repelling, and consequently alluring. I have a great +desire to scale them. I have always had an unreasonable wish to +explore the rough summit of this crabbed hill, which is too broken +and jagged for pleasure and not high enough for glory. This desire +was stimulated by a legend related by our guide that night in the Mud +Pond cabin. The guide had never been through the pass before; +although he was familiar with the region, and had ascended Nipple Top +in the winter in pursuit of the sable. The story he told doesn't +amount to much, none of the guides' stories do, faithfully reported, +and I should not have believed it if I had not had a good deal of +leisure on my hands at the time, and been of a willing mind, and I +may say in rather of a starved condition as to any romance in this +region. + +The guide said then--and he mentioned it casually, in reply to our +inquiries about ascending the mountain--that there was a cave high up +among the precipices on the southeast side of Nipple Top. He +scarcely volunteered the information, and with seeming reluctance +gave us any particulars about it. I always admire this art by which +the accomplished story-teller lets his listener drag the reluctant +tale of the marvelous from him, and makes you in a manner responsible +for its improbability. If this is well managed, the listener is +always eager to believe a great deal more than the romancer seems +willing to tell, and always resents the assumed reservations and +doubts of the latter. + +There were strange reports about this cave when the old guide was a +boy, and even then its very existence had become legendary. Nobody +knew exactly where it was, but there was no doubt that it had been +inhabited. Hunters in the forests south of Dix had seen a light late +at night twinkling through the trees high up the mountain, and now +and then a ruddy glare as from the flaring-up of a furnace. Settlers +were few in the wilderness then, and all the inhabitants were well +known. If the cave was inhabited, it must be by strangers, and by +men who had some secret purpose in seeking this seclusion and eluding +observation. If suspicious characters were seen about Port Henry, or +if any such landed from the steamers on the shore of Lake Champlain, +it was impossible to identify them with these invaders who were never +seen. Their not being seen did not, however, prevent the growth of +the belief in their existence. Little indications and rumors, each +trivial in itself, became a mass of testimony that could not be +disposed of because of its very indefiniteness, but which appealed +strongly to man's noblest faculty, his imagination, or credulity. + +The cave existed; and it was inhabited by men who came and went on +mysterious errands, and transacted their business by night. What +this band of adventurers or desperadoes lived on, how they conveyed +their food through the trackless woods to their high eyrie, and what +could induce men to seek such a retreat, were questions discussed, +but never settled. They might be banditti; but there was nothing to +plunder in these savage wilds, and, in fact, robberies and raids +either in the settlements of the hills or the distant lake shore were +unknown. In another age, these might have been hermits, holy men who +had retired from the world to feed the vanity of their godliness in a +spot where they were subject neither to interruption nor comparison; +they would have had a shrine in the cave, and an image of the Blessed +Virgin, with a lamp always burning before it and sending out its +mellow light over the savage waste. A more probable notion was that +they were romantic Frenchmen who had grow weary of vice and +refinement together,--possibly princes, expectants of the throne, +Bourbon remainders, named Williams or otherwise, unhatched eggs, so +to speak, of kings, who had withdrawn out of observation to wait for +the next turn-over in Paris. Frenchmen do such things. If they were +not Frenchmen, they might be honest-thieves or criminals, escaped +from justice or from the friendly state-prison of New York. This +last supposition was, however, more violent than the others, or seems +so to us in this day of grace. For what well-brought-up New York +criminal would be so insane as to run away from his political friends +the keepers, from the easily had companionship of his pals outside, +and from the society of his criminal lawyer, and, in short, to put +himself into the depths of a wilderness out of which escape, when +escape was desired, is a good deal more difficult than it is out of +the swarming jails of the Empire State? Besides, how foolish for a +man, if he were a really hardened and professional criminal, having +established connections and a regular business, to run away from the +governor's pardon, which might have difficulty in finding him in the +craggy bosom of Nipple Top! + +This gang of men--there is some doubt whether they were accompanied +by women--gave little evidence in their appearance of being escaped +criminals or expectant kings. Their movements were mysterious but +not necessarily violent. If their occupation could have been +discovered, that would have furnished a clew to their true character. +But about this the strangers were as close as mice. If anything +could betray them, it was the steady light from the cavern, and its +occasional ruddy flashing. This gave rise to the opinion, which was +strengthened by a good many indications equally conclusive, that the +cave was the resort of a gang of coiners and counterfeiters. Here +they had their furnace, smelting-pots, and dies; here they +manufactured those spurious quarters and halves that their +confidants, who were pardoned, were circulating, and which a few +honest men were "nailing to the counter." + +This prosaic explanation of a romantic situation satisfies all the +requirements of the known facts, but the lively imagination at once +rejects it as unworthy of the subject. I think the guide put it +forward in order to have it rejected. The fact is,--at least, it has +never been disproved,--these strangers whose movements were veiled +belonged to that dark and mysterious race whose presence anywhere on +this continent is a nest-egg of romance or of terror. They were +Spaniards! You need not say buccaneers, you need not say gold- +hunters, you need not say swarthy adventurers even: it is enough to +say Spaniards! There is no tale of mystery and fanaticism and daring +I would not believe if a Spaniard is the hero of it, and it is not +necessary either that he should have the high-sounding name of +Bodadilla or Ojeda. + +Nobody, I suppose, would doubt this story if the moose, quaffing deep +draughts of red wine from silver tankards, and then throwing +themselves back upon divans, and lazily puffing the fragrant Havana. +After a day of toil, what more natural, and what more probable for a +Spaniard? + +Does the reader think these inferences not warranted by the facts? +He does not know the facts. It is true that our guide had never +himself personally visited the cave, but he has always intended to +hunt it up. His information in regard to it comes from his father, +who was a mighty hunter and trapper. In one of his expeditions over +Nipple Top he chanced upon the cave. The mouth was half concealed by +undergrowth. He entered, not without some apprehension engendered by +the legends which make it famous. I think he showed some boldness in +venturing into such a place alone. I confess that, before I went in, +I should want to fire a Gatling gun into the mouth for a little +while, in order to rout out the bears which usually dwell there. He +went in, however. The entrance was low; but the cave was spacious, +not large, but big enough, with a level floor and a vaulted ceiling. +It had long been deserted, but that it was once the residence of +highly civilized beings there could be no doubt. The dead brands in +the centre were the remains of a fire that could not have been +kindled by wild beasts, and the bones scattered about had been +scientifically dissected and handled. There were also remnants of +furniture and pieces of garments scattered about. At the farther +end, in a fissure of the rock, were stones regularly built up, the +rem Yins of a larger fire,--and what the hunter did not doubt was the +smelting furnace of the Spaniards. He poked about in the ashes, but +found no silver. That had all been carried away. + +But what most provoked his wonder in this rude cave was a chair I +This was not such a seat as a woodman might knock up with an axe, +with rough body and a seat of woven splits, but a manufactured chair +of commerce, and a chair, too, of an unusual pattern and some +elegance. This chair itself was a mute witness of luxury and +mystery. The chair itself might have been accounted for, though I +don't know how; but upon the back of the chair hung, as if the owner +had carelessly flung it there before going out an hour before, a +man's waistcoat. This waistcoat seemed to him of foreign make and +peculiar style, but what endeared it to him was its row of metal +buttons. These buttons were of silver! I forget now whether he did +not say they were of silver coin, and that the coin was Spanish. But +I am not certain about this latter fact, and I wish to cast no air of +improbability over my narrative. This rich vestment the hunter +carried away with him. This was all the plunder his expedition +afforded. Yes: there was one other article, and, to my mind, more +significant than the vest of the hidalgo. This was a short and stout +crowbar of iron; not one of the long crowbars that farmers use to pry +up stones, but a short handy one, such as you would use in digging +silver-ore out of the cracks of rocks. + +This was the guide's simple story. I asked him what became of the +vest and the buttons, and the bar of iron. The old man wore the vest +until he wore it out; and then he handed it over to the boys, and +they wore it in turn till they wore it out. The buttons were cut +off, and kept as curiosities. They were about the cabin, and the +children had them to play with. The guide distinctly remembers +playing with them; one of them he kept for a long time, and he didn't +know but he could find it now, but he guessed it had disappeared. I +regretted that he had not treasured this slender verification of an +interesting romance, but he said in those days he never paid much +attention to such things. Lately he has turned the subject over, and +is sorry that his father wore out the vest and did not bring away the +chair. It is his steady purpose to find the cave some time when he +has leisure, and capture the chair, if it has not tumbled to pieces. +But about the crowbar? Oh I that is all right. The guide has the +bar at his house in Keene Valley, and has always used it. + I am happy to be able to confirm this story by saying that next +day I saw the crowbar, and had it in my hand. It is short and thick, +and the most interesting kind of crowbar. This evidence is enough +for me. I intend in the course of this vacation to search for the +cave; and, if I find it, my readers shall know the truth about it, if +it destroys the only bit of romance connected with these mountains. + + + + +VIII + +WHAT SOME PEOPLE CALL PLEASURE + +My readers were promised an account of Spaniard's Cave on Nipple-Top +Mountain in the Adirondacks, if such a cave exists, and could be +found. There is none but negative evidence that this is a mere cave +of the imagination, the void fancy of a vacant hour; but it is the +duty of the historian to present the negative testimony of a +fruitless expedition in search of it, made last summer. I beg leave +to offer this in the simple language befitting all sincere exploits +of a geographical character. + +The summit of Nipple-Top Mountain has been trodden by few white men +of good character: it is in the heart of a hirsute wilderness; it is +itself a rough and unsocial pile of granite nearly five thousand feet +high, bristling with a stunted and unpleasant growth of firs and +balsams, and there is no earthly reason why a person should go there. +Therefore we went. In the party of three there was, of course, a +chaplain. The guide was Old Mountain Phelps, who had made the ascent +once before, but not from the northwest side, the direction from +which we approached it. The enthusiasm of this philosopher has grown +with his years, and outlived his endurance: we carried our own +knapsacks and supplies, therefore, and drew upon him for nothing but +moral reflections and a general knowledge of the wilderness. Our +first day's route was through the Gill-brook woods and up one of its +branches to the head of Caribou Pass, which separates Nipple Top from +Colvin. + +It was about the first of September; no rain had fallen for several +weeks, and this heart of the forest was as dry as tinder; a lighted +match dropped anywhere would start a conflagration. This dryness has +its advantages: the walking is improved; the long heat has expressed +all the spicy odors of the cedars and balsams, and the woods are +filled with a soothing fragrance; the waters of the streams, though +scant and clear, are cold as ice; the common forest chill is gone +from the air. The afternoon was bright; there was a feeling of +exultation and adventure in stepping off into the open but pathless +forest; the great stems of deciduous trees were mottled with patches +of sunlight, which brought out upon the variegated barks and mosses +of the old trunks a thousand shifting hues. There is nothing like a +primeval wood for color on a sunny day. The shades of green and +brown are infinite; the dull red of the hemlock bark glows in the +sun, the russet of the changing moose-bush becomes brilliant; there +are silvery openings here and there; and everywhere the columns rise +up to the canopy of tender green which supports the intense blue sky +and holds up a part of it from falling through in fragments to the +floor of the forest. Decorators can learn here how Nature dares to +put blue and green in juxtaposition: she has evidently the secret of +harmonizing all the colors. + +The way, as we ascended, was not all through open woods; dense masses +of firs were encountered, jagged spurs were to be crossed, and the +going became at length so slow and toilsome that we took to the rocky +bed of a stream, where bowlders and flumes and cascades offered us +sufficient variety. The deeper we penetrated, the greater the sense +of savageness and solitude; in the silence of these hidden places one +seems to approach the beginning of things. We emerged from the +defile into an open basin, formed by the curved side of the mountain, +and stood silent before a waterfall coming down out of the sky in the +centre of the curve. I do not know anything exactly like this fall, +which some poetical explorer has named the Fairy-Ladder Falls. It +appears to have a height of something like a hundred and fifty feet, +and the water falls obliquely across the face of the cliff from left +to right in short steps, which in the moonlight might seem like a +veritable ladder for fairies. Our impression of its height was +confirmed by climbing the very steep slope at its side some three or +four hundred feet. At the top we found the stream flowing over a +broad bed of rock, like a street in the wilderness, slanting up still +towards the sky, and bordered by low firs and balsams, and bowlders +completely covered with moss. It was above the world and open to the +sky. + +On account of the tindery condition of the woods we made our fire on +the natural pavement, and selected a smooth place for our bed near by +on the flat rock, with a pool of limpid water at the foot. This +granite couch we covered with the dry and springy moss, which we +stripped off in heavy fleeces a foot thick from the bowlders. First, +however, we fed upon the fruit that was offered us. Over these hills +of moss ran an exquisite vine with a tiny, ovate, green leaf, bearing +small, delicate berries, oblong and white as wax, having a faint +flavor of wintergreen and the slightest acid taste, the very essence +of the wilderness; fairy food, no doubt, and too refined for palates +accustomed to coarser viands. There must exist somewhere sinless +women who could eat these berries without being reminded of the lost +purity and delicacy of the primeval senses. Every year I doubt not +this stainless berry ripens here, and is unplucked by any knight of +the Holy Grail who is worthy to eat it, and keeps alive, in the +prodigality of nature, the tradition of the unperverted conditions of +taste before the fall. We ate these berries, I am bound to say, with +a sense of guilty enjoyment, as if they had been a sort of shew-bread +of the wilderness, though I cannot answer for the chaplain, who is by +virtue of his office a little nearer to these mysteries of nature +than I. This plant belongs to the heath family, and is first cousin +to the blueberry and cranberry. It is commonly called the creeping +snowberry, but I like better its official title of chiogenes,--the +snow-born. + +Our mossy resting-place was named the Bridal Chamber Camp, in the +enthusiasm of the hour, after darkness fell upon the woods and the +stars came out. We were two thousand five hundred feet above the +common world. We lay, as it were, on a shelf in the sky, with a +basin of illimitable forests below us and dim mountain-passes-in the +far horizon. + +And as we lay there courting sleep which the blinking stars refused +to shower down, our philosopher discoursed to us of the principle of +fire, which he holds, with the ancients, to be an independent element +that comes and goes in a mysterious manner, as we see flame spring up +and vanish, and is in some way vital and indestructible, and has a +mysterious relation to the source of all things. "That flame," he +says, "you have put out, but where has it gone?" We could not say, +nor whether it is anything like the spirit of a man which is here for +a little hour, and then vanishes away. Our own philosophy of the +correlation of forces found no sort of favor at that elevation, and +we went to sleep leaving the principle of fire in the apostolic +category of "any other creature." + +At daylight we were astir; and, having pressed the principle of fire +into our service to make a pot of tea, we carefully extinguished it +or sent it into another place, and addressed ourselves to the climb +of some thing over two thousand feet. The arduous labor of scaling +an Alpine peak has a compensating glory; but the dead lift of our +bodies up Nipple Top had no stimulus of this sort. It is simply hard +work, for which the strained muscles only get the approbation of the +individual conscience that drives them to the task. The pleasure of +such an ascent is difficult to explain on the spot, and I suspect +consists not so much in positive enjoyment as in the delight the mind +experiences in tyrannizing over the body. I do not object to the +elevation of this mountain, nor to the uncommonly steep grade by +which it attains it, but only to the other obstacles thrown in the +way of the climber. All the slopes of Nipple Top are hirsute and +jagged to the last degree. Granite ledges interpose; granite +bowlders seem to have been dumped over the sides with no more attempt +at arrangement than in a rip-rap wall; the slashes and windfalls of a +century present here and there an almost impenetrable chevalier des +arbres; and the steep sides bristle with a mass of thick balsams, +with dead, protruding spikes, as unyielding as iron stakes. The +mountain has had its own way forever, and is as untamed as a wolf; or +rather the elements, the frightful tempests, the frosts, the heavy +snows, the coaxing sun, and the avalanches have had their way with it +until its surface is in hopeless confusion. We made our way very +slowly; and it was ten o'clock before we reached what appeared to be +the summit, a ridge deeply covered with moss, low balsams, and +blueberry-bushes. + +I say, appeared to be; for we stood in thick fog or in the heart of +clouds which limited our dim view to a radius of twenty feet. It was +a warm and cheerful fog, stirred by little wind, but moving, +shifting, and boiling as by its own volatile nature, rolling up black +from below and dancing in silvery splendor overhead As a fog it could +not have been improved; as a medium for viewing the landscape it was +a failure and we lay down upon the Sybarite couch of moss, as in a +Russian bath, to await revelations. + +We waited two hours without change, except an occasional hopeful +lightness in the fog above, and at last the appearance for a moment +of the spectral sun. Only for an instant was this luminous promise +vouchsafed. But we watched in intense excitement. There it was +again; and this time the fog was so thin overhead that we caught +sight of a patch of blue sky a yard square, across which the curtain +was instantly drawn. A little wind was stirring, and the fog boiled +up from the valley caldrons thicker than ever. But the spell was +broken. In a moment more Old Phelps was shouting, "The sun!" and +before we could gain our feet there was a patch of sky overhead as +big as a farm. "See! quick!" The old man was dancing like a +lunatic. There was a rift in the vapor at our feet, down, down, +three thousand feet into the forest abyss, and lo! lifting out of it +yonder the tawny side of Dix,--the vision of a second, snatched away +in the rolling fog. The play had just begun. Before we could turn, +there was the gorge of Caribou Pass, savage and dark, visible to the +bottom. The opening shut as suddenly; and then, looking over the +clouds, miles away we saw the peaceful farms of the Au Sable Valley, +and in a moment more the plateau of North Elba and the sentinel +mountains about the grave of John Brown. These glimpses were as +fleeting as thought, and instantly we were again isolated in the sea +of mist. The expectation of these sudden strokes of sublimity kept +us exultingly on the alert; and yet it was a blow of surprise when +the curtain was swiftly withdrawn on the west, and the long ridge of +Colvin, seemingly within a stone's throw, heaved up like an island +out of the ocean, and was the next moment ingulfed. We waited longer +for Dix to show its shapely peak and its glistening sides of rock +gashed by avalanches. The fantastic clouds, torn and streaming, +hurried up from the south in haste as if to a witch's rendezvous, +hiding and disclosing the great summit in their flight. The mist +boiled up from the valley, whirled over the summit where we stood, +and plunged again into the depths. Objects were forming and +disappearing, shifting and dancing, now in sun and now gone in fog, +and in the elemental whirl we felt that we were "assisting" in an +original process of creation. The sun strove, and his very striving +called up new vapors; the wind rent away the clouds, and brought new +masses to surge about us; and the spectacle to right and left, above +and below, changed with incredible swiftness. Such glory of abyss +and summit, of color and form and transformation, is seldom granted +to mortal eyes. For an hour we watched it until our vast mountain +was revealed in all its bulk, its long spurs, its abysses and its +savagery, and the great basins of wilderness with their shining +lakes, and the giant peaks of the region, were one by one disclosed, +and hidden and again tranquil in the sunshine. + +Where was the cave? There was ample surface in which to look for it. +If we could have flitted about, like the hawks that came circling +round, over the steep slopes, the long spurs, the jagged precipices, +I have no doubt we should have found it. But moving about on this +mountain is not a holiday pastime; and we were chiefly anxious to +discover a practicable mode of descent into the great wilderness +basin on the south, which we must traverse that afternoon before +reaching the hospitable shanty on Mud Pond. It was enough for us to +have discovered the general whereabouts of the Spanish Cave, and we +left the fixing of its exact position to future explorers. + +The spur we chose for our escape looked smooth in the distance; but +we found it bristling with obstructions, dead balsams set thickly +together, slashes of fallen timber, and every manner of woody chaos; +and when at length we swung and tumbled off the ledge to the general +slope, we exchanged only for more disagreeable going. The slope for +a couple of thousand feet was steep enough; but it was formed of +granite rocks all moss-covered, so that the footing could not be +determined, and at short intervals we nearly went out of sight in +holes under the treacherous carpeting. Add to this that stems of +great trees were laid longitudinally and transversely and criss-cross +over and among the rocks, and the reader can see that a good deal of +work needs to be done to make this a practicable highway for anything +but a squirrel.... + +We had had no water since our daylight breakfast: our lunch on the +mountain had been moistened only by the fog. Our thirst began to be +that of Tantalus, because we could hear the water running deep down +among the rocks, but we could not come at it. The imagination drank +the living stream, and we realized anew what delusive food the +imagination furnishes in an actual strait. A good deal of the crime +of this world, I am convinced, is the direct result of the unlicensed +play of the imagination in adverse circumstances. This reflection +had nothing to do with our actual situation; for we added to our +imagination patience, and to our patience long-suffering, and +probably all the Christian virtues would have been developed in us if +the descent had been long enough. Before we reached the bottom of +Caribou Pass, the water burst out from the rocks in a clear stream +that was as cold as ice. Shortly after, we struck the roaring brook +that issues from the Pass to the south. It is a stream full of +character, not navigable even for trout in the upper part, but a +succession of falls, cascades, flumes, and pools that would delight +an artist. It is not an easy bed for anything except water to +descend; and before we reached the level reaches, where the stream +flows with a murmurous noise through open woods, one of our party +began to show signs of exhaustion. + +This was Old Phelps, whose appetite had failed the day before,--his +imagination being in better working order than his stomach: he had +eaten little that day, and his legs became so groggy that he was +obliged to rest at short intervals. Here was a situation! The +afternoon was wearing away. We had six or seven miles of unknown +wilderness to traverse, a portion of it swampy, in which a progress +of more than a mile an hour is difficult, and the condition of the +guide compelled even a slower march. What should we do in that +lonesome solitude if the guide became disabled? We couldn't carry +him out; could we find our own way out to get assistance? The guide +himself had never been there before; and although he knew the general +direction of our point of egress, and was entirely adequate to +extricate himself from any position in the woods, his knowledge was +of that occult sort possessed by woodsmen which it is impossible to +communicate. Our object was to strike a trail that led from the Au +Sable Pond, the other side of the mountain-range, to an inlet on Mud +Pond. We knew that if we traveled southwestward far enough we must +strike that trail, but how far? No one could tell. If we reached +that trail, and found a boat at the inlet, there would be only a row +of a couple of miles to the house at the foot of the lake. If no +boat was there, then we must circle the lake three or four miles +farther through a cedar-swamp, with no trail in particular. The +prospect was not pleasing. We were short of supplies, for we had not +expected to pass that night in the woods. The pleasure of the +excursion began to develop itself. + +We stumbled on in the general direction marked out, through a forest +that began to seem endless as hour after hour passed, compelled as we +were to make long detours over the ridges of the foothills to avoid +the swamp, which sent out from the border of the lake long tongues +into the firm ground. The guide became more ill at every step, and +needed frequent halts and long rests. Food he could not eat; and +tea, water, and even brandy he rejected. Again and again the old +philosopher, enfeebled by excessive exertion and illness, would +collapse in a heap on the ground, an almost comical picture of +despair, while we stood and waited the waning of the day, and peered +forward in vain for any sign of an open country. At every brook we +encountered, we suggested a halt for the night, while it was still +light enough to select a camping-place, but the plucky old man +wouldn't hear of it: the trail might be only a quarter of a mile +ahead, and we crawled on again at a snail's pace. His honor as a +guide seemed to be at stake; and, besides, he confessed to a notion +that his end was near, and he didn't want to die like a dog in the +woods. And yet, if this was his last journey, it seemed not an +inappropriate ending for the old woodsman to lie down and give up the +ghost in the midst of the untamed forest and the solemn silences he +felt most at home in. There is a popular theory, held by civilians, +that a soldier likes to die in battle. I suppose it is as true that +a woodsman would like to "pass in his chips,"--the figure seems to be +inevitable, struck down by illness and exposure, in the forest +solitude, with heaven in sight and a tree-root for his pillow. + +The guide seemed really to fear that, if we did not get out of the +woods that night, he would never go out; and, yielding to his dogged +resolution, we kept on in search of the trail, although the gathering +of dusk over the ground warned us that we might easily cross the +trail without recognizing it. We were traveling by the light in the +upper sky, and by the forms of the tree-stems, which every moment +grew dimmer. At last the end came. We had just felt our way over +what seemed to be a little run of water, when the old man sunk down, +remarking, "I might as well die here as anywhere," and was silent. + +Suddenly night fell like a blanket on us. We could neither see the +guide nor each other. We became at once conscious that miles of +night on all sides shut us in. The sky was clouded over: there +wasn't a gleam of light to show us where to step. Our first thought +was to build a fire, which would drive back the thick darkness into +the woods, and boil some water for our tea. But it was too dark to +use the axe. We scraped together leaves and twigs to make a blaze, +and, as this failed, such dead sticks as we could find by groping +about. The fire was only a temporary affair, but it sufficed to boil +a can of water. The water we obtained by feeling about the stones of +the little run for an opening big enough to dip our cup in. The +supper to be prepared was fortunately simple. It consisted of a +decoction of tea and other leaves which had got into the pail, and a +part of a loaf of bread. A loaf of bread which has been carried in a +knapsack for a couple of days, bruised and handled and hacked at with +a hunting-knife, becomes an uninteresting object. But we ate of it +with thankfulness, washed it down with hot fluid, and bitterly +thought of the morrow. Would our old friend survive the night? +Would he be in any condition to travel in the morning? How were we +to get out with him or without him? + +The old man lay silent in the bushes out of sight, and desired only +to be let alone. We tried to tempt him with the offer of a piece of +toast: it was no temptation. Tea we thought would revive him: he +refused it. A drink of brandy would certainly quicken his life: he +couldn't touch it. We were at the end of our resources. He seemed +to think that if he were at home, and could get a bit of fried bacon, +or a piece of pie, he should be all right. We knew no more how to +doctor him than if he had been a sick bear. He withdrew within +himself, rolled himself up, so to speak, in his primitive habits, and +waited for the healing power of nature. Before our feeble fire +disappeared, we smoothed a level place near it for Phelps to lie on, +and got him over to it. But it didn't suit: it was too open. In +fact, at the moment some drops of rain fell. Rain was quite outside +of our program for the night. But the guide had an instinct about +it; and, while we were groping about some yards distant for a place +where we could lie down, he crawled away into the darkness, and +curled himself up amid the roots of a gigantic pine, very much as a +bear would do, I suppose, with his back against the trunk, and there +passed the night comparatively dry and comfortable; but of this we +knew nothing till morning, and had to trust to the assurance of a +voice out of the darkness that he was all right. + +Our own bed where we spread our blankets was excellent in one +respect,--there was no danger of tumbling out of it. At first the +rain pattered gently on the leaves overhead, and we congratulated +ourselves on the snugness of our situation. There was something +cheerful about this free life. We contrasted our condition with that +of tired invalids who were tossing on downy beds, and wooing sleep in +vain. Nothing was so wholesome and invigorating as this bivouac in +the forest. But, somehow, sleep did not come. The rain had ceased +to patter, and began to fall with a steady determination, a sort of +soak, soak, all about us. In fact, it roared on the rubber blanket, +and beat in our faces. The wind began to stir a little, and there +was a moaning on high. Not contented with dripping, the rain was +driven into our faces. Another suspicious circumstance was noticed. +Little rills of water got established along the sides under the +blankets, cold, undeniable streams, that interfered with drowsiness. +Pools of water settled on the bed; and the chaplain had a habit of +moving suddenly, and letting a quart or two inside, and down my neck. +It began to be evident that we and our bed were probably the wettest +objects in the woods. The rubber was an excellent catch-all. There +was no trouble about ventilation, but we found that we had +established our quarters without any provision for drainage. There +was not exactly a wild tempest abroad; but there was a degree of +liveliness in the thrashing limbs and the creaking of the tree- +branches which rubbed against each other, and the pouring rain +increased in volume and power of penetration. Sleep was quite out of +the question, with so much to distract our attention. In fine, our +misery became so perfect that we both broke out into loud and +sarcastic laughter over the absurdity of our situation. We had +subjected ourselves to all this forlornness simply for pleasure. +Whether Old Phelps was still in existence, we couldn't tell: we could +get no response from him. With daylight, if he continued ill and +could not move, our situation would be little improved. Our supplies +were gone, we lay in a pond, a deluge of water was pouring down on +us. This was summer recreation. The whole thing was so excessively +absurd that we laughed again, louder than ever. We had plenty of +this sort of amusement. Suddenly through the night we heard a sort +of reply that started us bolt upright. This was a prolonged squawk. +It was like the voice of no beast or bird with which we were +familiar. At first it was distant; but it rapidly approached, +tearing through the night and apparently through the tree-tops, like +the harsh cry of a web-footed bird with a snarl in it; in fact, as I +said, a squawk. It came close to us, and then turned, and as rapidly +as it came fled away through the forest, and we lost the unearthly +noise far up the mountain-slope. + +"What was that, Phelps? "we cried out. But no response came; and we +wondered if his spirit had been rent away, or if some evil genius had +sought it, and then, baffled by his serene and philosophic spirit, +had shot off into the void in rage and disappointment. + +The night had no other adventure. The moon at length coming up +behind the clouds lent a spectral aspect to the forest, and deceived +us for a time into the notion that day was at hand; but the rain +never ceased, and we lay wishful and waiting, with no item of solid +misery wanting that we could conceive. + +Day was slow a-coming, and didn't amount to much when it came, so +heavy were the clouds; but the rain slackened. We crawled out of our +water-cure "pack," and sought the guide. To our infinite relief he +announced himself not only alive, but in a going condition. I looked +at my watch. It had stopped at five o'clock. I poured the water out +of it, and shook it; but, not being constructed on the hydraulic +principle, it refused to go. Some hours later we encountered a +huntsman, from whom I procured some gun-grease; with this I filled +the watch, and heated it in by the fire. This is a most effectual +way of treating a delicate Genevan timepiece. + +The light disclosed fully the suspected fact that our bed had been +made in a slight depression: the under rubber blanket spread in this +had prevented the rain from soaking into the ground, and we had been +lying in what was in fact a well-contrived bathtub. While Old Phelps +was pulling himself together, and we were wringing some gallons of +water out of our blankets, we questioned the old man about the +"squawk," and what bird was possessed of such a voice. It was not a +bird at all, he said, but a cat, the black-cat of the woods, larger +than the domestic animal, and an ugly customer, who is fond of fish, +and carries a pelt that is worth two or three dollars in the market. +Occasionally he blunders into a sable-trap; and he is altogether +hateful in his ways, and has the most uncultivated voice that is +heard in the woods. We shall remember him as one of the least +pleasant phantoms of that cheerful night when we lay in the storm, +fearing any moment the advent to one of us of the grimmest messenger. + +We rolled up and shouldered our wet belongings, and, before the +shades had yet lifted from the saturated bushes, pursued our march. +It was a relief to be again in motion, although our progress was +slow, and it was a question every rod whether the guide could go on. +We had the day before us; but if we did not find a boat at the inlet +a day might not suffice, in the weak condition of the guide, to +extricate us from our ridiculous position. There was nothing heroic +in it; we had no object: it was merely, as it must appear by this +time, a pleasure excursion, and we might be lost or perish in it +without reward and with little sympathy. We had something like a +hour and a half of stumbling through the swamp when suddenly we stood +in the little trail! Slight as it was, it appeared to us a very +Broadway to Paradise if broad ways ever lead thither. Phelps hailed +it and sank down in it like one reprieved from death. But the boat? +Leaving him, we quickly ran a quarter of a mile down to the inlet. +The boat was there. Our shout to the guide would have roused him out +of a death-slumber. He came down the trail with the agility of an +aged deer: never was so glad a sound in his ear, he said, as that +shout. It was in a very jubilant mood that we emptied the boat of +water, pushed off, shipped the clumsy oars, and bent to the two-mile +row through the black waters of the winding, desolate channel, and +over the lake, whose dark waves were tossed a little in the morning +breeze. The trunks of dead trees stand about this lake, and all its +shores are ragged with ghastly drift-wood; but it was open to the +sky, and although the heavy clouds still obscured all the mountain- +ranges we had a sense of escape and freedom that almost made the +melancholy scene lovely. + +How lightly past hardship sits upon us! All the misery of the night +vanished, as if it had not been, in the shelter of the log cabin at +Mud Pond, with dry clothes that fitted us as the skin of the bear +fits him in the spring, a noble breakfast, a toasting fire, +solicitude about our comfort, judicious sympathy with our suffering, +and willingness to hear the now growing tale of our adventure. Then +came, in a day of absolute idleness, while the showers came and went, +and the mountains appeared and disappeared in sun and storm, that +perfect physical enjoyment which consists in a feeling of strength +without any inclination to use it, and in a delicious languor which +is too enjoyable to be surrendered to sleep. + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of In the Wilderness +by Charles Dudley Warner + diff --git a/old/cwitw11.zip b/old/cwitw11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b1041c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cwitw11.zip |