F621 / . ^^ .*\.i';^-/V o°*.^ji;i>>o /\.i:^/*"^„ / «• 'a^o /.^i^-'^e, //^ ^-'-'o?, V "When the Wildwood Was in Flower." A NARRATIVE COVERING THE FIFTEEN YEARS' EXPERIENCES OF A STOCKMAN ON THE WESTERN PLAINS. AND HIS VACATION DAYS IN THE OPEN. BY G. SMITH STANTON, Author of "Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger. New York: J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY. 57 Rose Street. U21 LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies Recerved FEB 3 1909 Copyrlgnt Entry ^LA88 JL XXc. No. COPY 8. * COPYKIGHT, 1909, BY G. SMITH STANTON. U ^'//^V'^ To those men and laomen who endured the hm^dships and braved the daufjers of the frontier that their descend- ants might enjoy the comforts and benefits of civilization, this volume is dedicated. PKEFACE. If the autlior-s account herein of his experience with one of the <>ii;antic trusts shall help to arouse public opinion to the necessit}' of crushing those great combinations ere they become the absolute dictators of our Government, this little volume will not have been issued in vain. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE New York to "the End of the Line" 11 CHAPTER II. Following the Trail 1^ CHAPTER III. Life on the Frontier ^^ CHAPTER IV. Winter on the Prairie ^^ CHAPTER V. Running a Stock Ranch ^ ' CHAPTER VI. Shipping Stock to Chicago 1^ CHAPTER VII. Atmospheric Disturbances ^1 CHAPTER VIIL Up Against the Red Man ^^ 8 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. The Plains and the Rockies 65 CHAPTER X. The Passing of the Stockman 75 REMINISCENCES OF THE AUTHOR'S VACATION DAYS. I. — Lost in the Maine Woods 85 II. — Taken for a Game Warden 93 III. — Hunting the Caribou 97 IV.— Curing a ''Butterfly'' 102 V. — The Obliteration of a "First Impression". . . 108 VI. — Life at a Sporting Camp 112 VII.— The Reformation 120 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE West Point 1^ On the Grade 1^ The Alkali Overland Coach 1^ ^^Hauds Up !'' 1^ The Valley of the Boyer, Woodbine 20 This is '^By'' -^ A Prairie Wolf 25 The Valley of the Pigeon— "Stanton's Eanch" 28 The Author, When Mayor of Woodbine, Iowa 31 First Touch of Winter on the Northwestern 33 A Self-binder 38 The Beef Trust Will Get the Profit -^0 The Home of the Stockman and His Herd 4D The Author's Wife and Her Indian Pony 53 "Texas," Our Mainstay 5^> Little Wolf's Double. <>0 The Original American ^^3 Omaha 6(> Denver and the Ever Snow-capped Rockies ^">^ Fryer's Hill in the Long Ago ^^ The Little Pittsburg in the Good Old Days '^'3 :\Iy Last Bunch of Stock ""^ Union Stock Yards, Chicago ^ ^^ Sportsman's Show, Madison Square Garden S(> Lost in the Maine Woods ^1^ On the Waters of the East Branch 95 10 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE The Last Sleep of a Caribou 99 In the Bad Old Winter Time 100 Miss Butterfly as She is To-day 105 It Tastes Better in Closed Time 109 Chase's Carry 110 Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger 113 '^Admiral" MeNaughton and His Fleet 117 This is He, "Ah, There!'' 123 The Author 129 When the Wildwood was in Flower CHAPTER I. NEW YORK TO '^THE END OF THE LINE." Back in the early sixties, as the announcer of the arrival and departure of trains at the old Thirtieth Street Depot, New York City, over the Hudson River Railroad, was call- ing "Chicago express noAv ready,'' the author of this little volume, grip in hand, was about to follow the admonition of the greatest editor the New York Tribune ever had — "Go West, young man !" This particular young man had recently graduated from the Columbia College Law School, and on account of his health had decided to start a stock ranch on a large tract of land in western Iowa left to him in the will of his grandfather, Judge Daniel Cady. Think of the transformation from a law office in Nassau Street to an isolated stock ranch on the Missouri River! While the train was passing West Point we were performing the disrobing act prior to our taking advantage of the invent- ive genius of one Mr. Wagner. For eight hours of re- freshing sleep we returned thanks to mine host Wagner. As we passed tlinmgh the metropolis of the West, situated on the western shore of Lake Michigan in that one-time 11 12 WHEN THE W1L1>W()0D WAS IN FLOWER. bog-hole where Fort Dearborn once stood, little did I know what an important part in niv future the Union stock- yards of that great city were to play. What is now known as the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad was the first railway across Iowa, and it had rails West Point. laid at that time to the town of Montana, now Boone, about 200 miles west of the Mississippi River. I was glad to learn that 'Tullmans'' ran to the end of the line. Not- Avithstanding it is over forty years since I first saw that frontier town, still I can see it to-day as vividly as when I stepped from the train just as the sun was showing its head over the prairies of the Hawkeye State. Daily stages started for the W(^st, but I thought I would tarry a day or two and look around. When I was attending Columbia College Law School in Lafayette Place, New 13 York City, we were livincj on West Forty-fifth Street. I always walked to and from the school. My course lay down Fifth Avenue to Broadway, and down Broadway to Astor Place. There was nothino- about Boone that reminded me of Fifth Avenue or Broadway. Ima«ine about two hundred one-story, detached, frame buildin<»s, about every other one a saloon, gamblincr-house or dance-hall, strunii^ aloni*- a street — simply a stretch of prairie about GO feet in width — with not a tree in si^^ht, crowded with a sample of every brand of citizen from border to border, and you can i)retty nearly size up a town at ''the end of the line." The buildino^s were thrown to- gether, as it was only a question of thirty days before they would be again moved to "the end of the line.'' There was plenty of music and whiskey. Occasional fights added to the excitement. Tall, black-mustached, rough-looking men, with wide sombreros, their pants in their boots, armed cap-a-pie, jostled their way through the street looking for trouble and generally finding it. Young officers from the government forts, dressed in the uniform of the United States army, were sipping wine with straw-haired girls. Indians decked out with feathers, moccasins and a blan- ket, were on the still hunt for firewater to drink and dogs to eat. One of the Indians, more successful than the oth- ers, got too much fireAvater. He had shed his blanket, and, in the garb of Adam, with the exception of feathers on his liead and moccasins on his feet, with a war-whoop, knife in hand, undertook to carve a way up the street. Above the heads of the retreating crowd circled a lariat, nnd as it settled over the red man's shoulders it tightened, and Mr. Indian bounced behind a cowboy's ponv to the coohu*. Leaning against the bars were young men from the East, each a mother's hope and pride, who had left their 14 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. happy homes to seek their fortunes in the new Eldorado. The men beliind the bar, those in front of it, and the fellow waiting to be asked, Avere trying to express their views at one and the same time. Capitalists from Xew York and England, with mining engineers, were on their way to On the Grade. the Rockies. Unhaltered mules wandered around the town, and every now and tlien some vicious cuss with his ears back would kick a swath doAvn the thoroughfare. lAunber- ing oxen were slowly moving through the street yoked to Avagons marked ^'U. S.," loaded with grain and provisions for the forts and reservations Long lines of mule teams were constantly going down the grade carting scrapers, grain and grub. NEW YORK TO ''THE END OF THE LINE.'' 15 It is astonishing:^ the profanity it requires to bnild a railroad. If profanity were of intrinsic value and could be put in cold storaj^e, I heard enouiih of it the two days T passed in Boone to pay the dividends on the stock of the Northwestern for oenerations to come. Prairie schooners loaded with tlie families and household effects of sons of toil from Indiana and Illinois were windino- their way tlirou-h the outskirts of the town to accept Uncle Sam's hospitality and settle on the oreat plains beyond. Herds of -rass-fed cattle, smooth and fat, were arrivin- from the luscious orasses of the INIissouri Eiver plateau to be shipped to the Eastern markets, and paid-off cowboys would ride on buckin- ponies throuoh the dance-houses shootino' daylioht throuoh the roofs. All nioht lono- ties and rails were bein.i? unloaded from oondola and box cars. There was one i^reat satisfaction in it all, everybody was an American, and Enolish the only language heard. The immio-rant from the other side had not yet driven the American from the labor market. The sense of fair play pervaded the community, and there was a body of citizens always standing around who took particular pains to see that everybody, no matter who or what he was. got a square deal. 16 WHEN THE WILDWOOD \yAS IN FLOWER. CHAPTER II. FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. The second morniii.t» after my arrival I took the stage for the West. The oiittit was similar to the now historic Deadwood Coach. With seven passengers besides myself, The Alkali Overland Coatih. it started dow n the road for the bridge over the Des Moines River, and the limitless prairies beyond. Sitting bolt up- right for thirty-six hours, with oidy short intervals to FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 1< stretch your legs and supply the inner man, was quite a change from the lower berth of a Pullman and ''dinner is now ready in the dining-car." Think of the forty-niners; they had sixteen days and nights of it! They deserved the gold they got. Following one of the old stage routes across the plains would have been a bonanza for the ''old hats" man of the city, as the road was strewn with hats jostled off from dozing passengers. Frequenth^ passing us, both day and night, were horsemen going like the wind, whom I learned were special government and express messengers. During the night a feeling of lonesomeness came over me. At every turn of the wheels I felt myself going farther and farther from the Bowery. It seemed as if I were cutting loose from everything. I commenced for the first time to realize the situation, and Avas fast getting a case of "cold feet." Think of leaving behind the gay Fashion Course and Hi- ram Woodruff, as we often saw him, holding the ribbons over some fast trotter ! What a delight after the day's work was done to stroll down RroadAvay to Niblo's Garden, and after the show to drop into Jolin ^lorrissey's for a mid- night lunch, and to play tlie ace to Avin. What a pleasure it Avas to look across the footlights at old John Gilbert and Lester Wallack, or to feel your blood tingle as Edwin Booth in Hamlet Avould repeat the lines "Do you see noth- ing there?" What I noA'cr to see Dan Bryant and Dave Reed dance "Shoefly" again? The ideal What a recrea- tion it was to go ovQv to the Elysian Fields in Ilt)boken in the afternoon and see the ^lutuals play the great Ameri- can game, and in the evening see old Mike Phelan and Dudley Kavanaugh toy Avith the ivories! We often passed the time of day Avith Gomniodore Vanderbilt Avhile driving through Central Park. How that gifled sjx^aker, James T. 18 WHEN THE WILDWOOI) WAS IN FLOWER. Bradv, during the war, used to enthuse our patriotism! What a treat it was to drop into some forum and hear the learned Charles O'Conor lay doAvn the law. Often have we gone to the large hall of Cooper Institute and listened to that graceful elocutionist, Wendell Phillips, deliver one of his famous lectures, and on Sunday morning to Brook- lyn and heard Brother Beecher tell us Avhat we had to do to reach the promised land, and in the afternoon to Coney Island, to eat clams on the half shell at the old Pavilion, see the three-card monte men fleece the unsophisticated, and try to wash our sins away among the great combers of the deep. I was leaving all this, and more, and what for? My health. Can health come to the body with the mind in gloom? Why couldn't Ave all have health all the time? God help the one who has the money and the health ques- tion to contend with at the same time. One is always being neglected for the other, and, under the pressure of the com- bination, frail humanity soon gives way. What a sweep there is to the imagination and Avhat timidity comes Avith the stilly night! I felt as if I Avanted to jump from the stage and bolt back to Boone, and very likely Avould if I hadn't suddenly been brought to my senses by a sharp command — "Halt, throAV up your hands!" two shots almost simulta- neously, a crack of the whip, and the sudden lunge of the stage forAvard. I soon learned tlmt a lone bandit had attempted to hold us up, and liad been shot by the Wells- Fargo express messenger Avho sat beside the driver. I was satisfied to sit still. Instead of meditating, I Avas congratulating myself that I was alive and my money safe. It is an old but true saying that Ave never knoAV Avhen Ave FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 19 are well off. That little episode dispelled tlie gloom, and "Kicliard is himself again." At dusk on the second day we had covered the one hun- dred miles between Boone and a little hamlet forty miles east of Council Bluffs, consisting of a store, a post-office, a tavern, two houses and a mill, known as Woodbine, my des- tination. Not very exhilarating surroundings to a ^'outh fn^sli from Broadwav. Litth^ did I know tliat vears aftc^r- " Hands Up!" ward a flourishing municipality by the same name would l)e built near by on the Northwestern Railroad, and I would have the honor of being its mayor. The last twenty-five miles were down the far-famed val- ley of the Boyer Biver, afterward to prove to be one of the most productive valleys of one of the best agricultural States of the Union. It was a lovely spring day. In the early morn the soft, melodious crowing of the prairie chick- ens greeted us. The prairi(^s were decked out in the flowers 20 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. of the wild, and as we bowled along it seemed as if Nature was doini> all she could to make us welcome. Eveivthinir was quiet, peaceful and content. A few A^ears ago I passed down the same valley. What a change in forty years I It was gashed by two railroads, and where the prairie flower once bloomed and the wild game flourished, and the Indian, the only contented individual who ever inhabited America, The Valley of the Boyer, Woodbine. roamed at will, were hard-working toilers trying to eke out an existence. Little hamlets were scattered here and there, with the daily life similar in all communities, con- taining more shadow than sunshine, and the question was forced upon me, would it not have been better if the trans- formation had never been made? Twenty miles from Woodbine, in the isolated valley of the Pigeon Kiver, I was to live for the next fifteen years. Near Woodbine on a stock ranch lived the man Avith whom rOLLOWlNtJ THE TRAIL. 21 I had become acquainted through correspondence, the on(^ whom I soui»ht and who willin^i»h' assisted me in the enter- prise in Avhich I was about to embark. A man nmde after God's own imai>e, no more upright, honorable human being was ever born than the one whom I was afterward to be associated with in the great cattle industry of the plains, Byron C. Adams, better known all over the West and to every shipper of live stock to Chicago as ^'By" Adams, and I hope there is a hereafter that I nmy meet my dear friend WHEN THE WILDWUOD \YAS IN FLOWER. CHAPTER III. LIFE OX THE FRONTIER. The spring, summer and fall were passed constructing the necessary b«aildings, getting together provender, and scouring with ''By'- the western part of the State for stock as a starter. The fellow who made the statement that horseback riding was the best outdoor exercise of all, hit the buirs-eve plumb in the center. The pale, sickly law student from 49 Nassau Street, commenced to put on color. ^^By" was constantly giving me pointers on the stock busi- ness. Gathering up steers here and there, and then trying to drive the bunch with every one of them wanting to bolt back home, keeps a fellow sliding on the saddle. For my health while in Xew York City I attended John Wood's gymnasium on Twenty-eighth Street, and rode horseback through Central Park ; but trying to head a steer on the prairies of the West, for healthful exercise, takes the blue ribbon over all the gymnasiums and bridle paths in the universe. I will never forget the day that ''By'' and I were driving a bunch of stock, and he called my attention to a particular steer who kept craning his neck and looking back. "By'' told me that fellow would bolt before long, and when he did he would take after him and wind him, and I was to try and hold the rest of the h.erd. Shortly, with tail in LIFE ON THE FltONTIEll. 23 the air, the animal wiiirlcd and holUMl back over tlie ])i'airie and disappeared over a hill with "By" after him with his stock whip circling in the air. I had little difficulty hold- 4 .^ /' ( I This is "By." ing th(^ herd, as they were hunory and commenced feeding. I rode to the top of the nearest hill to get a view of the process of winding a steer. Every once in a while among the hills I wcmld catch a sight of *'By" and the 24 WHEN THi: WILDWUOD WAS IN FLOWER. steer and could hear the stock whip as it snapped pieces of hide from the animal's back. In about half an hour I saw the animal comino back with ''By'' riding leisurely in the rear. The animal's tongue was hanging out about a foot. As we started the herd along, "Bv's" friend took the lead, and seemed willing to admit that the man on horseback is a dangerous proposition. One of the first acquaintances I formed in the West, of the animal kingdom, was the prairie wolf or coyote. The wolf has a few ideas worth taking note of. His den is a hole in the ground, but dug in such a way that neither the elements nor his enemies can get at him. He usually selects a side hill and digs a hole down about eight feet at an angle of forty-five degTees and then goes up about two feet and excavates the den. Here the little wolves are born, but there is no ''little window where the sun comes peeping in at morn." \yhen the rain comes it runs down the incline and at the bottom soaks away, but the den is high and dry, showing the wolf had a great head. If anything crawled down the hole, when it struck the angle the wolf would be above it, and it is generally the case in this world that the fellow who is on top when the row begins has the advantage, and the wolf family seem to be aware of that fact and build their habitations accord- ingly. My dog Texas and the wolves were great friends. Often early in the morn we would see the dog playing with the wolves along the Pigeon. One old wolf, in particular, and Texas seemed to be the best of friends; the wolf would chase the dog down the river bottom, and then ''Old Tex,'' in turn, would chase the Avolf, and then they would rear up and clinch. Thus would the wild and the tame meet on the level and act on the square. All ''nature fakirs'' LIFE Ox\ THE FKONTlElt. 25 agree that animals of similar species communicate with each other. I often wondered, as I saw^ ''Tex" and the wolf momentarily resting from the fati<>ue of the play, with their noses together, what they were saying. That is beyond the Jl A Prairie Wolf. imagination to fathom, anrave, but to the self- binder. The advent of the railroad brought us the modern machinery. The cradle was laid aside for what was known as the dropper, a machine wliich cut the small orain, it fallinoj on to a wicker platform, and when of sufiicicmt quantity to make a bundle the driver Avould drop th(^ platform and the grain slid off. It required six men to keep the grain bound up, before the next round. The next improvement was the Marsh harvester. With that machine three men accomplished what it took seven with the dropper. The three men rode on the machine. The ^Marsh harvester cut the grain, elevated it to a scoop re- ceptacle, alongside of which stood two of the men on a platform binding the grain. The next macliine and tlie most com])l(^te that any one could desire was th(r self- binder. Think of driving into a fiidd of grain with a ma- chine that a boy could handle, which wouhl cut the grain, elevate it into a receptacle, circle each bundle as it formed with twine, tie the twine into a knot, cut tlie twine and throw th(^ bundh^, tightly boniid, clear of tlie machine, and immediately repeat the operation; su'li v. as the sclf-bimlcr. 3S WHEN THE WH.DWOOl) WAS IX ELOWER. AYhat a t>'odsend to the 'Svoinen folks'' was the self- binder I In the days of the dropper they had to bake bread for a Aveek, kill all the chickens on the place, and peel a barrel of potatoes to feed a lot of hungry harvesters. With the self-binder there were only the regular household, no transient guests. Many a bright summer's morning I have driven into a field of vellow arain with mv self-binder, with A Self-binder. the ribbons over three horses abreast, comfortably seated in a cushioned seat with a canopy to protect me from the hot rays of the sun, A^ith a long straAV, I on one end and an occasional mint julep on the other, and, before the sun Avent down, Avith the aid of one of the boys, l)ut twenty-five acres of grain into the shock, and never turned a hair. As the great prairies began to settle up, and the range IU'NMN(J A STOCK RANCH. 39 cut off, the (lay of jun-ass-fcHl cattle saw its finish. (N)rn- fed steers came instead. Thousands vif acres of ])rairie were broken up, corn planted, and the cattle vardeil to be fattened and shipv)ed to the Eastern markets. Absolutely nothing but corn was fed. It was fed in the ear, broken about twice in two and fed in a large box, similar to a table and about as high. The droppings from the cattle w(a-e as yellow as corn meal ; in fact, it was ground corn, so to speak. In all feed-yards there were twice the number of hogs as of cattle ; the hogs were fattened from the droppings of the, steers. AYe calculated what passed through one steer would fatten two hogs. The cattle ate the corn, the hogs the droppings, and we ate the hogs. The feed-lot was the cause of the dehorning of cattle. As it is with humanity, about every other steer wanted his share and part of the other fellow's, and some, after they had eaten all they could, tried to keep the others away. The result Avas they were continually prodding each other, and dehorning was a necessity for fattening purposes. It was also a godsend to the shipper. The dehorning process Avas simply to run the steers into a shute that narrowed as it led on to Avhere only one steer could stand. We would then clap a clamp over his neck, and, with a common hand- saw, saw his horns off close to the head. I was not aware of the anatomical formation, so far as the horn is con- cerned, of the head of cattle until after I had done my first dehorning. I was riding over th(^ range shortly Ix^fon* sundown a feAV days after some dehorning, and as I glanced at a steer I saw the sun right thrcmgh his liead. It seems the horn of cattle is hollow; that is, there is simply a pith in it. Sometimes the pith dries up. In the case of this animal the pith had fallen out, leaving a hollow through his head. 1 have heard of ^'the wind blew through his whis- 40 WHEN THE \yiLDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. kers," but I never saw a case before where it blew through his head. That steer should never get excited, as the wind blowing through his head would certainly keep his brain cool. How much pleasanter it is to handle an intelligent ani- mal than a stupid one. What a difference there is between - V \ ^ m The Beef Trust Will Get the Profit. a horse and a horned animal. Though tlie ground is cov- ered witli snoAv the horse has intelligence enough to know that tliere is plenty of feed underneath, and paws to it, but the cattle Avill stand and starve to death. It used to make me so mad that I felt like grabbing them by the horns and shoving their heads down to the grass. In my life on the prairi(^s, where neighbors were few and far between, the most dangerous element to contend RUNNING A STOCK RANCH. 41 with was the prairie fires. In my boyhood days, as a hunter in tlie Adirondaeks, I learned never to uide. In the fall of the year never oo out on the prairic^s of the AVest without a match. Many a time while travelin*>- afoot, horseback or in my old Schutler wagon, I saved my life when T saw a prairie fire comino- by setting- fire to the orass and driving!: on to the burned portion. There is nothinj>' more entrancing; than to watch a prairie fire, especially at nic^ht, yet it is any- thino- but entrancinji: when it is comins; with a hi^h wind toward your earthly possessions. I have lost miles of fence and hundreds of tons of hay through prairie fires, and have back-fired aoainst it and fought it up hill and down twenty-four hours at a stretch. What a dreary waste back in the early sixties was the country west of the Mississippi River! Miles upon miles of unoccupied land with not a tree to break the monotony of that undulating plain. The only timber in Iowa was a fringe along the river bank and here and there a grove. God provided for the early settlers, where fuel was con- cerned, by allowing an occasional grove of timljer to escape the devastating fire of the prairie. The early inhabitants of Iowa settled in or near the groves. The cold winters necessitated this. Before the advent of the railroad the fuel question Avas an important one. On the plains of Nebraska there was no timber. The Lord evidently had no idea anybody would settle there. The early settlers in that vState set aside a field of corn for fuel. There is worse fuel than ear corn. On the advent of the railroads, coal became the universal fuel. As the great prairie set- tled up, groves of trees were planted and hedges set out, and that barren waste of the sixties was transformed into a beautiful wooded landscape. 42 WHEN THE WILDWOOI) WA8 IX FLO^YER. About the only recreation of tlie farmer on the Western prairie was to go to town. With the tired housewife and little ones tucked in a wagon, off thev would go. The town was the Casino of the farmer. It was the meeting place of the isolated settlers. On all the holidays the farmers went to town. All kinds of excuses were offered to "get to go'' to town. I recall that the whole countryside went to town one day to see the eclipse of the sun. With the coming of the iron horse came the styles from the East, the money-shark, and discontent. In the good old days everybody was contented. Mortgages, a stranger in the land heretofore, began to appear on the records. On my way to town one day I met one of the old settlers, who said : "Well, Stanton, I have mortgaged the farm to one of them 'ere money critters. I had to pay ten per cent, interest, by gosh I and a bonus, I think they calleil it, to git the mone}^ Betsey said she wouldn't wear that darned old sunbonnet to town again. My boy told me he would leave the farm if I didn't get him a top-buggy to take his gal out riding, and our little girl has cried ever since she see'd that young lady git off the cars at Woodbine with them high-heel shoes and a feather in her hat. ^A'ell, I be dog-goned, Stanton, if I ain't going to see some of this life with the rest on 'em." There were two rules which everybod}^ followed — never pass a rattlesnake without killing it, and when you went to town, call for your neighbor's mail. I use the word neighbor, but it hardly applies to the situation, as the word ''neighbor" with me covered a circuit of forty miles in diameter. I was amused at a remark a fellow made when I settled on the Pigeon. His nearest "neighbor" was fourteen miles away. My location was about six miles from him, whereupon the fellow made the remark: ''Well, I RUNNING A STOCK RANCH. 43 ^uess I will have to move; neiiibbors are Jiettinc^ too thick." Speakin' my man had ,i»otten the "im])ortant" letter (»n his ronte. It was lucky that I didn't turn back, as the captain had the coveted prize. Old Sol was showing- his scalp above the ])rairie orass as I reached the captain's. In the cattle-yard was the captain milkini> the cows. I propound- ed the now stereotyped (piestion, *'Got any mail for me?" ^'Yes," came back the repl^^ "Well, Cap, for God's sake let me have it.'' I explained the situation, and he lauiihed so hard he rolled oif the milk stool. Il(^ad- achy and hungry, I started for my home, fifteen miles away. When I arrived, the house was in an uproar. No- body had slept a wink. The youni? lady had collapsed at 2 A.M., and they had sent for a doctor. My man liad re- turned at that hour Avith the report that some mail had been lost by Bill Guppy near Leland's Grove, and he be- lieved my mail was amon^^ the rest. The first tliini>- I did on my return was to dispatcli one of the men to Wood- bine with a r(Niu(\st to tlu^ ])ostmaster: ''Don't deliver any of mv mail to anvbodv without an order." 46 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. CHAPTER VI. SHIPPING STOCK TO CHICAGO. As ALREADY stated, the Nortlnvestern was the first road across Iowa, and the trains were run in a go-as-j^ou-please kind of style. There was one passenger train each way a day and several freights. They had a schednle jnst to look at, but not to rnn by. They would stop anywhere for any- thing or anybody. They tell a story that Knox Shoefelt, a passenger conductor, held his train while he acted as best man at a wedding at a near-by farm house. Like the governors of North and South Carolina, it was a long dis- tance between stations. As soon as the railroads got through, we stock men took advantage of it and commenced shipping our stock over the road to Chicago. The engineer who ran the freight I usually shipped on was Johnnie Wells, and the conductor was Jim Folsom. The boys were great hunters and carried their guns along, and while pass- ing through Carroll County, where there was a good sup- ply of prairie chickens, they often stopped the train to knock over a dozen or so. They used to run through Har- rison and Crawford Counties as if the Old Nick was after them, so as to have plenty of time to hunt in Carroll. You who are riding on the Nortliwestern to-day, with its double track and its fre(]uent and swift-moving trains, think of a freight train standing on the oulv track for siiirriN(; stock to Chicago. 47 lioiirs at a time, and tlie traiiiincii oft' on tlie ])rairi('s linnt- ino- chickens. Wlien we arrived at Rooiie, tlie end of the division, tlie trainmen were often called n]> by the sn])er- iutendent to explain why they conld not make schednle time. The hoys spoke of ^'hot boxes," ''broke in two com- ing]: over the hills of the divide," and when they ran ont of excuses we stock men Avould come to the rescue and tell the superintendent the cattle were netting down badly and we had to stop and <>et them on their feet ai^ain. There is an end to everythinji, and there was a finish to Folsom huntino- prairie chickens while running a freight train. Jim was caught red-handed, and I was in at the kill. One morning, bright and early, I had loaded four cars of cattle and two of hogs at St. John, now Missouri Val- ley, and Jim came along from Touncil Bluffs on hin way to Boone. It was a beautiful day in the fall of the year, and the boys thought they would take a shot at some prairie chickens. Wells pulled the throttle wide open, and away we flew up the valley of the Boyc^r and over the di- vide for Carroll County. At a level place in the road the boys brought the train to a stop, and over the prairie we went after chickens. The train was entirely deserted. We had been gone about an hour when there came resounding over the prairies a long-drawn-out whistle of a locomotive. It seems the superintendent had started out on a pros]KH-t- ing tour from Boone and had found Jim's deserted train. The cold chills commenced to run \i\) and down tlu^ boys' vertebrae as they caught sight of the superintendent's car. Jim was equal to the occasion, however. Picking out six of the fattest rhickcms, he a])i)roach(Ml the stern-looking superintendent with a smile, and, handing out tlu^ cliick- ens, said: ''^Ir. Su])erintendent, allow me." Jim by in- vitation rode to the next siding in the su])(M*int(Midcnt's car, 48 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. and what took place at the little seance between them Jim would never tell, but the next time I went over the road I noticed Ave did not stop at our favorite huntino- o-rounds, and as we rolled over the ties through Carroll Countv, Jim sat in the corner of the caboose looking through the win- dow, and would take a long breath every time he saw a prairie chicken fly over the train. But it did not follow that Jim never got any more prairie chickens, as they were occasionally lying dead along the track by coming in con- tact with the telegraph wires. The prairie chicken would make a good carrier-pigeon, so to speak, as it is a rapid flyer. Like the quail, its breast is large and most pala- table. INot having been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and having to paddle my own canoe, I naturally have tackled some hard propositions, but the toughest job I ever undertook was to start from the Missouri River and land a consignment of cattle in the Union Stock Yards, Chicago, without a loss. The first run was three hundred miles across the State of Iowa to the :Mississippi Kiver; it generally took thirty-six hours, two nights and a day. In loading cattle, on account of the freight charges, you naturally would get every steer in a car you could. The steers had "standing room only''; conseciuently, if a steer got down, which was a very common occurrence, on ac- count of the fatigue from standing too long, it was either to get tliat ste(^r on liis feet again or he would be trampled to death, and away would go the profit on that car of cattle. Sometimes you could raise him by standing alongside of the car and using your prod — a pole al)out six feet long with a shar]) inm point in one end of it — but often you had to climb into the end window of the car and go right among them, horns, dro])])ings, and all, and take vour SHirriNG STOCK TO CHICAGO. 49 chauces of ever getting out alive, the trainmen paying no attention to you, the train running thirty miles an hour, and )naybe it is night and as dark as pitch. As I look back to the days and nights when 1 was a ship])er of stoek to Chicago, and recall the many horn-breadth escapes I had, the wonder is I am alive. Many a time 1 have started from the Missouri River for The Home of the Stockman and His Herd. Chicago with a trainload of stock and never got a wink of sleep for twenty-four lumrs at a stretch. I recnll the night at Belle Plain that Ave pulled a dead :Mexican out of a car of Texas steers. Instead of insisting on having his car sidetrackiMl to get up some stt^n's that were down, he foolishly crawled into the car and to his finish. What a great relief it was on our arrival at tlu^ yards at Chicago, as we turned the stock and prod jiole ov(M' to our commis- 50 WHEN THE WILDWOOI) WAS IN FLOWER. sioner and started for the Transit House for a bath, shave and a change of raiment, and to enter a clean dining-room again for the first square meal in four days, and, after the stock was sold, to return home dressed as gentlemen. No one would have thought that the well-dressed indi- vidual comfortably lounging in a Pullman with an ebony employee catering to his wants, was the same unkempt, dirty citizen who, but a few hours before, with a four- days' growth of w hiskers on his chin, was in a filthy stock car trying to get a steer on his feet. ATMOSPIIKUIC Dl i>T UUB A NCES. 51 CHAPTER VII. ATMOSPHERIC DISTURBANCES. While I was raising stock in the valley of the Pigeon for the benefit of the Beef Trust and the railroads, I saw the start and finish of one of the greatest scourges that ever afflicted a farming community — the destructive locust or grasshopper. Anything that can bring a fast-running train to a standstill certainly deserves recognition. Many a time I saw grasshoppers stop a passenger train on the Northwestern. I don't mean they would catch hold of the cars and stop the train by main strength, or hop aboard and pull tlie bell cord, but they covered the rails in count- less thousands, and, like the tramp preferring to die rather than move, the locomotive in squashing out their lives so greased the track that tlie driving-wheels failed to hold to the rails. One fall, about the time the corn crop was nearing maturity, there came whirling through tlie air millions of grasshoppers. Looking toward the sun they appeared like snowflakes. As they descended they acteil as if they hadn't had a square meal for a month ; they covered the corn, in fact, everything. The only citizens who seemed to meet them with a glad hand were the turkeys. Unlike the historic bird, he didn't have to sneak up behind; but like the enemy of the Light Brigade at Balaklava, the grassho])])ers were on all sides. After the OU WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. pests had devoured everything that was green and pala- table, the}' deposited their eggs in the soil and winged their flight to pastures new. The j^jiring sun hatched out the eggs, and the newly born devoured the growing crops and took their departure as soon as their wings developed. There seemed to be nothing to destroy these pests. For several falls they made us a visit, then, possibly tiring of our society, left us never to return. As the plains to the west of us settled up, the breeding places of the locust were encroached upon and destroyed, and the grasshopper ceased to be a burden. Those who have not lived on the prairie will not believe the stories of actual occurrences with the wind. It is one continual blow night and day from one year's end to the otlier. I started one day for market Avith a load of oats. It AA as my first experience transporting that article. The wind was blowing a gale, and as it struck the wagon it formed a Avhirl over the oats and they commenced to circle in the air. In spite of all that I could do they kept on circling, and by the time I arrived at the market not a I^eck of oats was left and I had seeded down the countr^^ I was running my ranch at the time the insurance com- panies first inserted a clause in their policies against ''straight winds." For two Aveeks, night and day, there came a Avind from the southAvest that caused my house to vibrate so Ave dared not sleep in it. During those two weeks we slept on the prairie. Hoav trees ever greAV in that coun- trA' is beyond my comprehension ! The greatest dread of the inhabitant of the prairies is the cyclone. Xo one has any conception of a Western cyclone unless he has been on the ground, or, I might prop- erly say, in the air. One of the Avorst that ever occurred in the West I saw, but, thank Heaven, did not feel. I AA'as ATMOSl'IIKKIC niSTlUlJAXCES. 53 in Mills Couuty, Iowa, buying cattle. It was one of those awful hot, niuy days in Jul}, when you eould look for hailstorms, thunderstorms and e^Tlones. . 8peakini» of hailstorms, I attril)ute my early baldnc^ss to an exiHM'ience I had with a hailstorm. The day the i)artie- Ihe AuLhur s Wiff and Her Indian i^onv. ular hailstorm I refer to occurred was about as hot as hu- manity could bear. I had .i»()ne on horseback to drive up some cattle. One of the doi>s went alonj>- with me. I was in my shirt sleeves without any undershirt, and wore a straw hat, or what was left of it. 1 say what was left of it, as the 54 WHEN THE WILDWUUD WAS IX FLOWER. top of the hat was gone, leaving my ambrosial locks exposed to the ravs of the sun. I was as good as bareheaded. You often hear of stories of hailstones being as large as hens^ eggs and possibly doubted them, but if 3^ou will believe me, I have seen hailstones as large as eggs, and double-yolk eggs at that. I was on my way back with the herd, and as I came over the divide and started down a long hollow tliat led to the Pigeon I saw a hailstorm coming up the river. When I first saw it, it was about a quarter of a mile away and coming as fast as the wind. The stock could feel the chill and knew what was coming as well as I did, and all hands started on the jump down the hollow for the river, in order to get under the protection of the bank. Before any of us got half way to the river the storm was upon us. Hailstones commenced bouncing off the top of my head and welting me on the back. I jumped off the horse and tried to keep him between me and the storm, but in tr3ing to hold him, we were going around and around in a kind of a "two-step," so to speak. There was nothing to do but let go of the horse and strike out for the river bank. I have heard of the Delaware whipping-post, and I can imagine how a fellow's back feels. ^ly dog was at my heels, getting it Avith the rest; eA^ery J little way he would lie down in the prairie grass and Avhine and then up atid after me again. I would hold up my hands over my liead and ward off the stones till I could stand it no longer, then my head would catch it again. There is one redeem- ing feature about hailstorms — they are of short duration. But that one lasted long enough to keep me company to the river bank. As I reached the bank over I went and crawled under the protection of an overhanging sod. The sun shone forth again; the cattle, one by one, came out of the river bottom ; the horse had gone to the stable, but the ATMOSri-lKKIC DLSTlUr.ANCES. Oi> over-faithful do<>- was at 1113' side. The liair IkkI partially protected iiiv sealp, but my back looked like that of a sinall- j)ox patient. That hailstorm utterly destroyed one of my corn fields, consisting- of one liundred acres. I recall a little episode which occurred in an adjoining corn field a month later that laid low another portion of my corn crop. Among the other dogs on the i)lace was a bulldog. A cattle ranch and bulldogs do not dove-tail very well, but as this particular dog was a pet of the ff^nale contingent his society was allowed. Like all bulldogs, this one was on the popular side of the monopoly question, for if he was ever called upon to help the other dogs out, where the herd was concerned, he would pick his animal and leave the balance of the herd to the rest of tlie dogs. So if any reader of this volume intends embarking in the cattle business and is a bulldog fancier, he will find it necessary to figure one bulldog with every head of stock. The little episode I refer to occurred on a certain occasion when the cattle broke into a corn field, not an uncommon occurrence on all well-regulated farms, and we started with a shepherd and a Newfoundland dog to drivc^ them out. Without our knowledge the bulldog sneaked along. After the other dogs had quietly and suc- cessfully, or, at least, we thought they had, cleared the field, we heard an awful racket down at one end. Follow- ing the noise we found the bulldog and a three-year-old dancing the minuet while smashing down corn l)y the rod. The dog had the animal by the nos(s and tlu^ steer was swinging him around like a professional club swinger. Before we got the dog's grip loose, between tlu^ num. Iiorses, dogs and steer we destroyed more corn tlian tlie animal would have eaten in a month. The bulhlog no doubt 56 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWEE. thought he had performed a heroic act, and he never could quite understand, Avhenever thereafter the other dogs start- ed after the stock, why he was left in his kennel to meditate. In trying to describe a blizzard I mentioned the fact that Webster's and Worcester's dictionaries failed to supply the necessary words. If in addition to Messrs. 'Texas," Our Mainstay. Webster and Worcester, iNlrs. Webster and Mrs. Worcester and all the little Websters and Worcesters were to compile dictionaries, there would still be adjectives to coin to prop- erly describe a Western cyclone. As already stated, the cyclone to which I particularly refer was in ^Mills County. While sitting on the piazza of a hotel we heard a low moan- ATMOSrilLKir iUSTl'KI'.ANCES. .-) i ins sound which one of the bystanders remarked was the forerunner of a evclone. Off to the southwest black clouds commenced to loom above the liorizon ; hi.nher and higher they arose and commenced to whirl in a circle. The nioan- inc? we had heard chanjied to a roar. The clouds became funnel-shaped, with a long narrow tail hanging toward the ground. From the hotel steps we saw it bounding along the prairie, leaving a track a quarter of a mile wide swept as clean as a floor. The little whirlwind in the streets gives you the principle of the cyclone. Like it a cyclone forms a vacuum, lifting everything from the ground. The cyclone passed about a mile south of where I stood. After its passage the inhabitants of the adjoining country rushed to the aid of the stricken ones. Such a sight I never saw, nor ever listened to such experiences. Men, women and cliil- dren were found dead, with every strip of clothing gone. Houses taken bodily from their foundations, torn into pieces and carried away for miles. Gullies full of dead animals and refuse, dead chickens Avithout a feather, iron machinery twisted like a pretzel, ruin and desolation on all sides. A Mr. Osier's place, a gentleman from whom I had recently bought some stock, was In the track of the storm. His whole family lost their lives; he was saved. He told me that at one time he was at least two hundred feet in the air, and sailing along with him was a pet colt so close he could have put his hand on it. In one of Mr. Osier's corn-cribs there was over r),000 bushels of corn; not a piece of the corn-crib nor an ear of the corn remained. The blacksmith of a village ovtM- which the storm passcnl was at work, and as the sho]), which had a dirt floor, lifted and started heavenward, 1h^ cj«uiiht hold of the anvil and 58 WHEN THE WILD WOOD WAS IN FLOWER. hung on and thereby saved his life. The Eastern farmer sometimes deplores his lot, but if he had seen what T saw that day he would conclude there was somethino- worse to contend with than railroads, commission men, book agents, candidates and poor markets. UP AGAINST THE RED MAN. 59 CHAPTER VIII. UP AGAINST THE RED MAN. In niY career on the plains as a ^'cow puncher," as mayor of a frontier town, and as superintendent of a mine in tlie early days of Leadyille, Colorado, I haye occasionally been where I felt like shying my "caster into the ring" ; but of all my experiences I neyer ached to go on "the war path" as I did when on the Niobrara Riyer in Nebraska, years ago, I saw one of nn^ best friends lying dead, scalped by a band of bloodthirsty Indians. Back in the seyenties I Ayas interested in a cattle ranch in that locality. The only railroad across the plains at the time was the Union Pacific. The nearest station of the railroad to our ranch was Ogaliala. About tifty miles farther up the riyer from the ranch in which I was interested was that of tlie Moore- head boys, of Dunlap, Iowa. We often yisited. 8ome of my stock had strayed away, and in hunting for them it took us in sight of tlie ^Moorehead corral. As we came on to the diyi\as Yellow Smoke, lie was a great gambler, and a suc- cessful oup at that. He often visited the saloons of the town for a game of cards and to see what show there was to get his hands on some firewater. YelloAV Smoke, UP AGAINST Tin: KEl) MAX. G3 unfortunately, sat down one night in a game witli some toughs, who purposely got him drunk to rob him. They stole his money and an elegant fur robe, and in the melee Yellow {Smoke was killed. The toughs Hed the town. As soon as the tribe heard of Yellow Smoke's death thev came 5# A k'^ad^S^' The Original American. for the body and demanded the men who kilh^l him. The bod3^ they took away and buried, and sent word to the town authorities that they wanted the men who had killeil their chief. There were four hundred bucks in the Indian camp, armed to t]w t'M^li, and as Dunla]) liad oid> about 64 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. five hundred inhabitants all told, things began to look a little dubious. The authorities sent back word, which was the truth, that the men who killed Yellow Smoke were not residents of the place and had fled from the town. The Indians wouldn't believe it and demanded the men at once or thev would come after them. We all knew what the result of that expedition would be. A committee, of which I was a member, from the lodge, visited the Indian camp to try and appease them and assure them that the men had left. At the suggestion of one of the members, we dressed in our Masonic regalia. What a fortunate suggestion! To the astonishment of all of us, the Indians on our approach greeted us with Masonic signs and assured us they would believe what we told them. Our statement proved satisfactory. The Indians having obtained Masonic signs in some unaccountable manner, undoubtedly saved Dunlap from being wiped off the map ; that is, it looked that way. But there is one thing certain ; from what I knew of the caliber of Dunlap citizens and the out-of-town members of the lodge who were present at that particular time, the Omaha tribe of Indians would have been somewhat reduced before the wiping-out i)rocess was completed. THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. 65 CHAPTER IX. THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. In tbe scliooldays of m\ boyhood I learned of the Great American Desert, but little did I think then that I would ever experience its discomforts. It ree almost beyond the human frame to cover the trail to Denver and Santa Fe. Toiling alono- months at a time, urging? slow- moving ox teams through the hot, blinding sandstorms by day and guarding your all from the Indians by night Avas enough to dethrone one's reason. I have seen strong men, who had endured many a hardship, crying like chil- dren at the trials around and before tlieni. Nature, not satisfied with attiicting us with the real, would often mock us with the unreal. Man and beast perishing from thirst would see before them the mirage of some shady stream, seemingly a short distance away. The dund) brut-s, ig- norant of the deception, would bolt toward the phantom, often following it to their death. Beautiful cities would appear above the horizon as if to lure us on, then, like the hopes of this life, soon faded away. 1 have often heard of the sufferings of the soldiers on the plains, but their life was clover to that of the government trams, and still the hardships of the government trains, composed of men, was of but little moment to that of the immigrants with their women and children. They wiM-e the unpro- tected on(^s who invited the attack of the Indians. 66 WHEN THE WILDWOOD \YA8 IN FLOWER. The United States Government and those Avho to-dav are enjovino the benefits of the plains and the Rockies, owe a debt to tlie immigrants of the sixties which thev can never repay. On those lono-, weary tu«s from Omaha to Denver it was a great relief, at least to me, when the Omaha. Rockies came in sight. Notwithstanding when first seen they were over a hnndred miles away, it was a satisfaction to know that your goal was stationary and always in view, and ere long your journey would be at an end, although at times, after days of travel, Pike's l*eak and its companions seemed to be as far aAvay as when first sighted. There was nothing slow about building railroads over the plains; if they didn't build several miles between meals THE PLAINS AM) THE UOCKIE.S. 67 the}' considered it poor progress. For Inindreds of miles there were neither cuts nor fills. The surveyors would go ahead and stake out a strip the required width, furrows alonii' each side of the stakes Avere plowed, ties would be laid between the furrowed strip, and rails spiked down, and the construction cars run thereon. At the time the Pacific Railroad bills were before Congress there were opponents to the bills, of course, as there is to everything. If a balloon came sailing over some communities, dropping twenty-dollar gold pieces, there are people Avho would try to shoot the aeronaut for his carelessness. According to the Cougressionul Globe, the discussion over the Pacific Railroad bills showed what poor prophets we mortals be. Every speaker who opposed the bills dwelt long and earnestly on what the Indians would do. They claimed that on account of the Indians the road could not be built, unless under the protection of troops, and after the road was constructed the Indians would tear up the track unless it was guarded the whole length. AVhat a godsend it is that there are people who cannot be persuaded by scare- crows. If not, America would still be a wilderness! While the Pacific railroads v/ere under construction the only thing the Indians did was to ride along the ridges at a safe distance, half scared to death in fear of the iron horse; and after the road was built these ferocious Indians, who were going to eat the road up, ties, rails and rolling stock, seeing the white man riding along in a cushioned seat smoking his cigar, commenced to make inquiries if they couldn't also ride. Instead of tearing up the track they became an infernal nuisance, pestering the govern- ment and railroad agents for free rides. There was hardly a train on the road without having one or two fiat cars occupied by a lot of lazy, dirty Indians riding along at 68 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLO\yER. the Government's expense. A certain train crew gave that practice its quietus. They started out of North Platte for Omaha with the usual Indian delegation. Riding on flat cars is ticklish business, as there is nothing to hold on to. The engineer said as he started out that you would find a string of Indians lying along the side of the track or he Avould ditch the train. He didn't ditch the train, but he did the Indians. While rounding curves he pulled the throttle wide open, and at every curve an Indian or two would roll off. The Indians were on their bellies, sliding over the car and yelling for dear life, but before the engineer let up he had dumped the whole bunch. What a God-forsaken country was western Kansas and Nebraska prior to the eighties. We often hear the expres- sion ''land poor," but I never realized what it meant until I "bullwhacked" over the sandy desert from Omaha to Denver. They tell a story of a land transaction in west- ern Nebraska which will give the reader an amusing il- lustration of "land poor.'' On the construction of the Union Pacific Railroad immigrants came iDOuring into Ne- braska on the strength of the alluring literature issued by that company. If the "press agent" of the Union Pacific didn't get a good salary, he certainly deserved it. The fellow was lucky to escape with his life from disappointed immigrants. The land transaction I refer to was as fol- lows : among others, a man from Illinois came to Nebraska with his family to locate on government land, but was un- able to find any which suited him. He was referred to a man who was "land poor." The Sucker had no money he could spare, but he had an extra span of mules and of- fered them to the Nebraskan for two hundred acres, and the offer was accepted. The necessary papers in the transaction Avere draAvn up. A few days afterward as the THE TLAIXS AND THE IKK'KIES. 69 immigTant was (\\aininiiin the papers he discovered that besides tlie two liiiiidred acres, tlie ^'poor hiiuV man had slipiHHl ill two hundred acres more. AMiile 1 was holdinj» down the chair of the chief execu- tive office of the city of Woodbine, the great strike at Lead- Denver and the Ever Snow-capped Rockies. viUe, Colorado, had bcn^n made on Fryer's IHll, and I and one of the soliut'falo, l^hila«leli)hia and New York Avere in the yards bidding for our stock, and the prices we obtained gave us some reward for our labor. I will long remember the morning when I arrived at the yards with a consignment of stock and was informed by my commissioner, ITarb^v Oi-een, tliat the day of a ])r()tit to 80 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWEU. the stockman was at au end. He informed me of the form- ing of the Beef Trust and that competition was no more. An arbitrary price succeeded "supply and demand.^' The combination fixed the price. They l^new what it cost to fatten a steer, and the bid was just enough to encourage you to go back and make another try. If you didn't like the price of the day, you had the priyilege of paying yardage — a ratlier expensiye undertaking. If you thought you Ayere being robbed, which you were, you could reload and ship farther East, but you would run against the same combination with yirtually the same bid. There was nothing for you to do but to stand and deliyer, and return to your family and try to comfort those who had toiled Ayith you for three long years to com^ert that little calf into a fattened steer, and tell the same sad story that other stockmen carried to their isolated homes. The Beef Trust Ayas not satisfied Ayith controlling^ the purchasing end, but after the stock Ay as slaughtered and passed through the packing-houses, it Ayas shipped to the cold-storage houses of the East, and put on the block Ayith an arbitrary price to the consumer. That Ayas the condi- tion tlien, and through the non-action of the law-enforcing poAyer it prcA^ails to-day. An indiyidual or corporation Ayho controls tlie price at both the purchasing and dis- tributing end of a product exacts all the profit — it is simply a question of how mucli do you Ayant ere you quit, and hunmn nature's Aynnts are ncA'er satis- fied. The greed of that giH^at combination deprived the little children of the stock raiser of education and the nec- essaries of life — their motliers, through toil and depriA^a- tion, Ayere driATu to the asylum, and their fathers to their graATs Ayith broken hearts, and as T, who they dnwe out THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 81 of business, see the offsprin^c: of the Armours, Morrises and their kind, and the beneficiaries of like combinations, flauntino: their predatory wealth, it is easy for me to un- derstand why there is unrest throughout the domain of this great Republic. KEMINISCENCES OF THE AUTHOR'S VACATION DAYS. LOST IN THE MAINE WOODS. Twice in mv life I experienced the feeling of being lost, once on tlie prairies of Nebraska, and the second time in the woods of Maine. To one avIio has not been lost, words fail me to describe the sensation. One feels as if he were going insane. A few years ago, in the evening of a late Sep- tember day, as the man Ayho stands with the megaphone on the marble staircase in the main waiting-room of the Orand Central Depot, New York, was calling, ^'Boston express, stopping at Springfield and Worcester only, now ready on track No. 0,'' the author — with two students, one studying for the ministry — was taking his departure for a two- weeks' hunting trip in tlie ^Faine woods. The night was passed going feet first across three States of the I^nion, dreaming of bygone days on the Rangeleys and along the Allagash. The rising sun met us at Old Orchard. Within a stone's throw of the train long lines of white breakers were roll- ing in from the blue ocean, foaming on the crest as they break and smoothly glide oyer the crescent-shaped sands of the grandest bathing beach in all this land. Between Portland and Newport — not the Newport of the "upper ten," but that of a better Auierican, a Newport of the 85 86 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WA« IN FLOWER. Sportsman's Show, Madison Square Garden. ^4ower five" — a white-coated gentleman from Africa is passing- tlirongh the train announcing: "Breakfast is now ready in the dining-car/' always a welcome summons to LOST IN THE :siaim: woods. 87 the one who loiters on tlie liiiinoroiis and snnny side of life, a stranger to indigestion and its kind. The golden orb of day was gradnally sinking into the forest of the Pine Tree State as we were jjreparing to enjoy the hospitality of Moosehead Inn, a well-kept hos- telry on high ground at the foot of and overlooking the nnsalted sea of Elaine, old ^loosehead. Here two guides I had engaged met us. On one of my canoe trips down the Allagash I saw so mueli game on Churchill Lake that I took the boys to that locality. We arrived at Churchill October 2d. The boys were not much as hunters, and the guides were too lazy to hunt, so I seemed to be the committee on venison. Four days had gone by and no juicy venison in the frying-pan, so I thought I Avould strike out alone. I had hunted the country north of Chamberlain Lake over pretty well and thought I knew it as a\(*11 as 1 did Manhattan Island. Eight here I Avould state, don't go into the North Woods without a guide or a compass — better take both. My divinity student friend had presented all hands Avilli a pocket edition of the Bible, and it was a godsend to me that I had it in my pocket. When I left camp I jokingly told the boys that I Avould bring back the tenderloin of a deer if I was gone a week, and before I got back to camp a week had nearly passed. Game seemed ver3^ scarce. There is nothing surprising about that. I saw the buttalo, antelope and prairie chicken disappear from the plains before advancing civilization, and for the same reason the caribou left Maine never to return, and naturalh^ the moose and deer will follow. The killing of game is justitiable when for the immediate sus- tenance of man, but it never should have been allowed for traffic nor ornamentation. 88 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. Being- anxious to secure a deer, I took the precaution to take a sleeping-bao- and some jirub to last me in case I saw fit to stay out all night. I started off in a southwesterly direction, crossing Thoroughfare Brook, and it was late in the afternoon when I saw my first deer. He was in easy range, but in trying to get a little closer I scared him, and liis white tail bobbing among the brush Avas the last I saw of him. I had about decided to give up the hunt and return. While standing there thinking what I Avould do, I heard a noise and, looking around, I saw not over one hundred yards away a fine buck. He was very accommo- dating, as he stood still until I fired. He dropped like a log and stayed there. The afternoon was fast passing away, so I hastily cut out the tenderloin, severed the hind quarters and started with my load for camp. I thought I knew the direction and believed I could make the lake before dark. If I had gone toward the lake I no doubt would have made it, but unfortunately I had gone in another direction. As darkness came on I began to realize that I was lost, as nothing looked familiar. There was nothing to do but to try and find my way out. Of course I could not sleep; that was out of the question. In my experience on the plains, where I had to travel often at night, I became familiar with the location of what we call the ''Great Dipper'' and the North Star, and I could figure out not only a direction, but the time of night to a nicety. I knew if I traveled south I would at least strike the tramway, between Eagle and Chamberlain Lakes. One could follow a creek, knoAving it would eventually lead to a lake, but I would not be any better off following the winding shore of a possibly uninhabited lake. Never put any faith in the sun as a guide in the woods. There are only two occasions Avhen you can bank on the sun — LOST IN THK MAINE WOODS. ^ose seven stars .ere looking down upon me fro,n the e loca'on. What a wonderland of research the great "dla "niverse presents, and what an insigmfieant spe. K n he .^alaxv this earth nn,st be! And the mdiv.dual iJ^m x^aliz; that he, too, is of little moment, "as he struts nnd frets his hour on the stage" of life. From open spaces in the woods I got my beanngs a. traveled in a southerly direction At -te^ls cUu^-jH. - nioht I fired three shots in rapid succession, the hunters «; o help. HOW anxiously I listened for the res.^se u;t never came! I traveled almost all ^^ -f^:^_^\^ light opened .ith me still lost m the .voods, ,et I Knew if I Continued south I .vould be between Eagle and Cbambei an Lakes and should certainly strike the tramway tha^ connects the two. I did not dare to strike out to an^ Xt during the day, as it seems to be a fact that « P-.ii traveling without any landmarks travels in ^ oiuK- Ut th: day sla^ping, smoking, taking an o-asio-l 1 at a small flask of brandy, cursing my luck, and lead.u,, ""'wliile eating my noonday meal at the foot of a mountain, I saw far up on the mountainside a U.lge -e "^^ J ;- I decided to blaze my ^vay to it and see if 1 could re o Hi : some lake or mountain; but after eljmb.ug o^•er ha a mile I realized that I was becoming exhausted w h effort and thought it best to retra.e my steps to 'I left mv traps, and save my strength in my endeaxoi to 90 WHEN THE WILDWOOl) WAS IX FLOWER. reach the tramway. I calculated that another night's tramp would bring me to the tramway, and my calcula- tions came near being true. During the two nights I saw plenty of game, but I gave them due notice that I would let them severely alone if they would me, and there was no argument on that point. When at the start I found I was lost, I threw away the hind quarters of the deer, but retained the tenderloin. My diet consisted of tenderloin of buck, coffee, pilot crackers, tobacco, brandy, and the Bible. Some fellow who has never ''been there" no doubt thinks it is all bosh to get lost in the woods, and if he had been in my boots, or moccasins, rather, he Avould have waltzed right out of the situation; but the fact is that when one finds himself lost, his nerve, judgment and com- mon sense are also lost. As I tramped along through bogs and jungle, notwith- standing I was all unstrung, I could not help but smile at the novelty of the situation. During the second night, as I was going down into a valley, I saw, in the direction I was going, two eyes, no doubt attracted by my footsteps. They Avere so near the ground I was sure it Avas a bear. I stopped. Under usual conditions it would have been of little concern, but when a fellow is up in the air with buck fewer, heart failure, and seA^eral other imaginary com- plaints, anything startles him. I coughed, blew my nose and made a half-dozen other noises to try and scare the devil away, but those two eyes were still riA^eted on me. I brought my .30-.30 to my shoulder, shot into the air, and the felloAV Avith the goo-goo eyes disappeared. I was mighty glad Avhen I passed the territory that Mr. Bruin had just occupied. Christian Scientists tell us that all our ailments are imaginary. Some question that, but let one traverse the LOJST IN Tin: MAINE WOODS. 91 woods by moonliiilil alone and he will certainly ad- mit that the imagination is all powerful. In my travels those two ni<»hts I would have taken my oath that I saw every animal wliieh inhabits the different zones of Lost in the Maine Woods the earth. The changing shades caused by the moonlight made it seem as if I were wandering through some zoological garden. The snort of a deer, that was hitherto always a welcome sound, signifying that game was near, so startled me that I jumped six feet, more or less, into the air. 92 WHEN THE \YILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. About midnight a 3'oung hurricane sprang up, blowing from ''sou '-sou' west." The sweet music of the forest and streams of the Pine Tree State has lulled me to sleep manj times, but there was nothing sweet in my surroundings at that particular time. An old tree, tired of the struggle, had fallen over on his next-door neighbor, and as the howl- ing wind would sway the old trunk back and forth on his friend's '4iabeas corpus," there emanated therefrom such a nerve-racking plaint that it started me on the run, and I never stopped until I was out of sound of that unearthly grind. Another night would have certainly seen my finish. At the dawning of the second day, while I was getting my breakfast, I thought I could detect a rumbling sound. It flashed across me that it was the tramwaX', and it proved so to be. I have attended the opera and listened to the music of the masters, and have heard the best bands of this and other countries playing along Broadway, but the sweetest music I ever heard in my life was the rumbling, on that cool October morning, of the traniAvay between Eagle and Chamberlain Lakes in the State of Maine. TAKEN FOR A GAME WARDEN. 93 II. TAKEN FOR A GAME WARDEN. Of all my canoe trips over the water-courses of this coun- try, and I have taken a good many, the most disappointing, disagreeable and annoying was the second time I went down the East Branch of the Penobscot River. There were a whole lot of my enthusiastic New York friends going to take tlie trip, but as is generally the case, when the time came to step up to tlie purser's office, they dropped ont one by one, leaving me like the historical boy ^'on the burning deck." The seven guides I had engaged had to be reduced to one, and he a scrub I picked up at Northeast Carry. He was not much of a canoeman, and the canoe we had was "hogged, ■' narrow, and the bottom — from many punctures — looked like a small-pox patient just out of a hospital. The first day we made the run from Northeast Carry to the hotel at Chesuncook. The next night we camped at the foot of Telos Lake, near a sporting camp. From Telos to Second Lake includes the canal, Webster Lake and Webster Stream. Webster Lake is the only portion easy to canoe. The canal and Webster Stream are very dan- gerous to navigate, especially the latter. Witli the old tub we had I did not care to risk it, so we hired Mr. Roberts, of the Telos Lake sporting camps, to tote us from Telos to Second Lake, a distance^ of fourteen miU^s. With the exception of Ripogenus (\u'ry, on the ^Vest Branch, the road between Telos and Second Lake has everv other 94 \YHEN THE W1LD\Y00D WAS IN FLOWER. road in the State beaten to a standstill. Roberts rode all the way, and if ever a man earned his money, he did. His head would be up among the branches of the trees, and the next moment he would be in the ^'trough of the sea." The changing angles of the wagon reminded me of the acrobat on the stage. The feet of the off horse would be on a level with the back of his mate, and then again the mate \vould be looking down on his pal. Roberts' harness must have been made of rubber. The play of the canoe as Roberts hung on to his load clipped off pieces of his skin, and as he stripped where we camped on Second Lake, his sides were a counterpart to the patches on the bottom of the canoe. As we neared the dam at Grand Lake, we struck a log- drive. If I had knoAvn what I had to encounter between Grand Lake and Grindstone, I would have retraced my footsteps, if I might use the word. Being a man of sixty, my dress was not that of a "sport," but more like the com- mon garb of the everv-day man you will meet on the street. The log-drivers sized me up as a game warden, and nothing that the guide or I could say changed that opinion. Instead of their showing deference for what they inferred was a minion of the laAv, they "roasted" me unmercifully. If I happened to wander from my own fireside, I was ac- cused of trailing for venison. One fellow pulled the hind quarters of a deer from under some burlaps and dared me to arrest him. One log-driver said he was willing to swear that I was Commissioner Carleton. Word was telephoned down along the line: "A game warden is coming down the river — make it hot for him." At ^Monument Line they intended to wreck our outfit. The Maine log-driver is generally French. Fortunately, my guide understood the French language and overheard them discussinir their intentions. The uanir were not TAKKN FOR A (JAMK WAUHEN. 95 awai-e of tlie kind of a ''liaiii»iir' tli(\v wrre i)lannin.u- to attatk. If tlioy liad known tliat back in the sixties this ^'uame warden" had been the niaA'or of a turbnlcMit littb^ towu uear the Missouri Kiver — had been th(^ superintend ent of a mine in the early days of Leadville, Colorado, and On the Waters of the East Branch. a plainsman in tlie lonii a.uo, they niii;ht not have been so eaj^er to cross swords with him. Anyhow, I saw somethiuii had to Ix^ done. At :Monunient Line was the usual lean-to and wan,i>an that you find when a log-drive is on. Just before sundown, wliib* tlie log-drivers wen^ finishing their su])])ers, T took a walk over where three or four dozen of them were, and possildy dis- 96 WHEN THE \YILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. cussIdjt: my future. I informed them that the impression that had gone forth that I was a game warden was er- roneous, that I was a New York gentleman out of health making a canoe trip in an endeavor to regain the same. I understood they intended to wreck my outfit that night. I told them that in a fifteen years' experience on the plains of the West I had been up against a tougher lot of citizens than Maine log-drivers, that I was still alive and that I was perfectly able to protect myself and my outfit, and if any of them doubted my capabilities all they had to do was to try it on. Either my guide was lying to me or my speech had the desired effect, as that night and the next day, from Monument Line to Grindstone, were as unevent- ful as if there had not been a Maine log-driver within a thousand miles. Upon our arrival at Grindstone we had the only hearty laugh of the entire trip. It seems the night before, after I had delivered my "valedictory" to the log- drivers, the folloAving telephone message had gone over the wire : "A bad man from the West is coming down the river; give him a wide berth." HUNTING THE CAKir.OU. 97 III. HUNTING THE CARIBOU. There are many thinp^s one sees in books in connection with the habits of animals that the layman doubts, yet as a hunter for these many moons and covering a territory from New Brunswick to the Eocky :Mountains I am ready to believe 'most anythino-. One of the most amusing ex- periences I ever had occurred in New Brunswick, Canada, tw(Mity-tive years ago. A New York friend of mine was in- terested in a lumber camp located in that territory. He invited me and any of my friends to visit him during the hunting season. Taking a friend along, we arrived at the camp on the 10th of Novend)er. Caribou seemed to be the principal meat diet. The third day after our arrival, the young man who had come with me and I started off on a hunt for caribou. There was about four inches of snow on the ground. There is very little sport hunting ciiribou. In the first place, they travel in droves. Hunting caribou is like going into a pasture and shooting cows. The caribou is the most inquisitive animal of all the Avild game I ever hunted. If it sees a strange object it will never let up until it finds out what it is. A great many people are under the impression that the firing of a gun will start any wild animal on the jump ; that is not so. You can lay it down as a general rule that an animal will not run from yim until he gets 98 ^YHEN THE ^yILI);yOOD WAS IX FLO^YER. liit or scents you. I liiiYe heard of animals standing per- fectly still and letting one slioot at them Uvo or three times. Speaking about scent, it is astonishing how far these animals can smell you. I know it to be a fact, while I was hunting in the Adirondacks some years ago, a herd of deer scented me a quarter of a mile. And I hadn't been eating any onions, either. HeaYcns! what a bouquet we must haYe! To return to my New Brunswick story, we had gone about a mile from camp when we came to a spring sur- rounded by caribou tracks. The tracks led away from the spring up the mountainside, and we decided to follow. The trail led OYer the top of the mountain and doAYn into the Yalley below. As we got to the top ayc saw a herd of about thirty caribou, coming in Indian file up the moun- tain. The AYind was blowing from the herd toward us. We turned and went back down the trail about one hun- dred yards, and waited until the caribou came in sight. They undoubtedly were heading for the spring. We got our guns ready. Near the top of the mountain the trail led around an immense boulder, and it was cur intention to tire as soon as a caribou showed his head around the rock. It was but a short time when the leader of the herd came in sight. My friend fired, and down went the caribou. It ^^'as my first successful hunt for caribou, and it surprised me to see another head coming around the boulder. I shot him. Then came a third, my friend put a bullet through his habeas corpus. Another head came in sight. The reason I am nearing the three-score and ten limit and happy, I attribute to the fact that I have not taken life too seriously and have cultivated a sense of humor. I took in the ludicrous side of the performance and began 11UNT1N(J THE CARIBOU. 99 to laugh. My atlliction sjurad to iin- friend, aud every time we glanced toward the boulder and saw more caribou the harder we laughed. It was one of those cases where something strikes you as so ridiculous that you almost The Last Sleep of a Caribou. laugh yourself into a fit. AVe botli lauglied so hard we couldn't stand up, let alone shoot. :My friend began to choke and grow black in the face. I crawled over to where he was and commenc(Ml ixnmding him on the back. In the meantime the caribou kei)t coming in sight and stood there looking at us, no dcmbt wondering wliat kind of 100 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. In the Bad Old Winter Time. animals Ave were, and it secMued to me some of tliem actu- ally <>rinned. My friend nearly cliokinji' to death brought us -to our senses. We picked up our ouns and started down the trail for home to inform the camp where they could IIL\\T1X(; TiiE CAiaiU)U. 101 find a supply of meat. As we stai't(\l (lown the trail the herd folloAved along. The^^ stopped for a moiiieut when the}^ came to our tracks, but on they came as far as the spriu^i:. From Avhat I afterward learned of the habits of the caribou, I am satisfied Avhile they were at the boulder T\ e could have slaughtered the whole herd. As regards the intelligence of animals, I saw a sight on Sourdnahunk Lake, Maine, in the winter of 1880, that if I had not seen it nobody could have made me believe tliat such a thing ever occurred. With a guide I was on a hunt on snowshoes. The night before three feet of snow had fallen. As we came in sight of the lake, we saw a lierd of caribou crossing it in single file. The leader Avould wallow belly-deep, making a track through tl:e snow, and when he tired would step to one side and let the next ani- mal take the lead, the first fellow lying down until the whole herd had passed and then bringing up in the rear. We watched tliem for over a mile, and almost as regular as clock-work we saw leader after leader fall to the rear. Tliey seemed to believe in the saying: ''Let the other fellow walk a while.'' 102 WHEN THE WlLD\yOOD NYAS IN FLOWER. IV. CURING A ^^BUTTERFLY." Back in the eighties, one of my wealthiest clients lived on lower Fifth Avenue. I often dined at his home, and on many occasions described the healthful pleasure of canoeing over the waters of Maine. His only child was a daughter, a butterfly of fashion, who was fast breaking doAvn in the social whirl. At my suggestion she decided to make a canoe trip. At her father's solicitation I con- sented to take her along on my vacation. She made only one proviso, and that was she was not expected to dress ^'like a fright." She unfortunately got it into her head that one could dress for a canoe trip the same as to spend the summer at Saratoga. She was nineteen when we made the trip. A lady of good common sense was her chaperon. Before I departed from the metropolis I gave the chaperon a general idea of what clothing, underpinning and topgear, would be nec- essary. On our arrival at Kineo I engaged three guides, and the night before our departure from Kineo I told the ladies that here we were to lay aside the dress appropriate along Broadway and don the sportsman attire, or words to that effect. To my surprise and disgust, the next morn- ing, my charge boarded the boat for Northeast Carry decked out with high-heel shoes, a tailor-made suit, a made-up countenance, with extensive plumes floating in 103 the gentle zephyrs, and surrounded with an atmosphere of heliotrope. Such a sight never crossed Northeast Carry before, nor since. It seems the chaperon had purchased the proper wearing apparel, but ^liss Butterfly refused to wear it. She did not seem to realize that we would be exposed to the elements. The aim of the chaperon and myself was to get possession of those shoes, the corsets that embraced that wasp waist, a box of cosmetics, and that flowery toi)-knot ; and, one by one, we succeeded. The first day was passed going down the West Branch 'midst sunshine and shadow, and nightfall found our tents set up in close proximity to the dining-room of the Hotel de Murphy, on Chesuncook Lake. The apparel of the Fifth Avenue belle was causing so much comment that I saw something had to be done, and at once. That night our tents were robbed; that is, before they were robbed I ascertained that they had a supply of ladies' moccasins on hand. The robbers took the French high-heel shoes. What could the poor girl do? Wear moccasins, of course. That was where we made our first score. The but- terfly of fashion rather mistrusted who the robbers were. As we crossed that gem of a lake, Ripogenus, we ran close to a large bull moose feeding along the shore. He simply glanced at the first and second canoes as they passed by, and continued feeding; but when the one hove in sight with Miss Butterfly and your humble servant, with those extensive white plumes dancing in the sunlight, it was too much for him, and he bolted for the woods. Anybody who has made the West Branch trip knows what Ripogenus Carry is. For the information of those Avho do not I would state that it is three miles long, and 101 ^yiIE^' the wildwuod \yAS ix flower. the roughest road that is traveled in the State of Maine. It Avas a pretty long, rough walk, right off the reel, for a butterflj' of fashion, and she admitted she could nol haye made it in the high-heel shoes. She began to think the robbers did her an accommodation. On our arrival at Big Eddy, the end of the carry, she was so tired that a tent was immediately set up. She removed her dress and fell asleep. Like many wasp-waisted females she slept with her corsets on, fearing her compressed ribs might return to where nature first placed them. What a godsend it would be to female kind if it was a penitentiary offense to manufac- ture a corset ! The chaperon informed me that we had our chance to obtain the corsets. I peeked into the tent, and, sure enough, our opportunity had arrived. The patient was on a good solid operating table, was unconscious, and the foreign matter was plainly in view. Wln^ not perform the opera- tion? I acted as tiler while the chaperon crawled into the tent, unlaced the corsets, gently slipped them from around the patient and handed them to me. If we concealed them as we did the high-heel shoes I was afraid that by persua- sion, tears or through some other female accomplishment, ^liss Butterfly would obtain them; so I loped over to Ripogenus Gorge, tore the corsets into pieces, and the fragments floated away on the waters of the West Branch. When the dear girl awoke it was not necessar}^, as they generally do when a patient regains consciousness from an operation, to tell her to "spit it out.'' She spit it out all right. In my life on the plains I often heard tlie Avar-whoop of the hostile Sioux^ dieyennes and other redskins, and the explosion in that tent was a vivid reminder of those try- ing- tillK^S. (TiiiNd A "r.rrrKKFLV 105 Miss BuUerily tis Slio is To-day. 106 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER/ I told the chaperon to put it all on me. It took all the diplomacy at my command to prevent an open rupture then and there, and my charge returning to New York at once. The next morning as we started down the river, for the first time since her childhood days the clothes of this butterfly of fashion were supported from her shoulders instead of her waist. The hat and box of cosmetics still remained. Providence came to our rescue so far as the hat was concerned. A rainstorm put that in storage, a cap taking its place. Going down what is known as the "Horse- race," the chaperon purposely placed the box of cosmetics on the top of the load, and I, in shifting my setting-pole, accidentally — that is, I would use that word — ^Ivuocked the box overboard, and Miss Butterfly's stock of magnolia balm, bloom of youth, creams, paints, x)uffs and powders mingled with the waters of the Horserace, to be seen no more. It was lucky for me that going down those two miles of turbulent water, "sports" are warned to sit still for fear of upsetting the canoe, or I might have lost what Avas left of my ambrosial locks, and it was also my good fortune that the rush of the waters of the Horserace drowns the hunmn voice, but the look she gave me still lingers in my memory. Wliere Abol Stream enters the AYest Branch at the foot of Blount Katahdin, we established a permanent camp, where tliree weeks were spent hunting, fishing, canoeing, swimming and mountain climbing. There this pale, wil- lowy butterfly of fashion was transformed into a sun- browned, strenuous athlete. As I occasionally meet her to-day on the promenades of the great city, a mother with grown-up daughters — all dressed, not as butterflies of fash- ion, but as sensible women — she often tells me, amid laugh- ing reminiscences of our trip, that the turning point in (M UIN(J A ''UUTTEUFLY.-' 107 her life for health and happiness was when she took the grandest canoe trip in the world— down the eighty miles of the West Branch of the Penobscot, from Moosehead Lake to Norcross. 108 WHEN THE WILDWOOl) WAS IX FLOWER. THE OBLITERATION OF A ^TIRST IMPRESSION." My reception at Connors, New Brunswick, when I made niY first canoe trip down the Allai^ash, will forever linj>er in my gray matter. I made the trip with my brother-in- law, Dr. Hazelton. We had no guides. On account of doing all the work, we looked more like tramps than "sports." We reached Connors about 4 p.m. on a cer- tain Saturday and Ave decided to spend Sunday there. We "took out" just below the hotel. Leaving the canoe and dunnage on the shore, the doctor started for the hotel to make the necessary arrangements, and I for the tele- graph office to let our families know that we had safely breasted the wilds of the Allagash. While I was at the telegraph office, the doctor interviewed the hotel proprietor. From his questions and remarks, the doctor saw some- thing Avas the matter. At fi/st the proprietor said the hotel was full. He wanted to knoAv Avho was the guide — where our canoe was. He finally said that he might find a place for us. This conversation took place on the piazza of tlie hotel in the presence of many of the guests. The doctor asked him Avhat was the matter; before the land- lord could explain, I hoA^e in sight. I had three weeks' growth of beard. I did most of the cooking on the trip, and from my shirt collar to the tip end of my moccasins Avas a sample of every menu card since Ave left Northeast THE ODLITEUATION OF A 'TUIST IMl'KH^S^ION. 109 Carry. As the doctor saw mo coininii- toward the hotel with a jj^ait that showed that ''tired feeliiit*," and with a .ueiierally Bowery-bum appearance, he could see our chances of i>et- tinjj;- into that hotel fast fadinii; away. After further ar- gument, the landlord consented to show us a room in, the attic. It Tastes Better in Closed Time. The doctor had shaved that moi-ning, so his countenance would pass. I hunted up the barlx^r shop. I was some- what solicitous wlu^ther the bai-ber would undertake the job, so the first thing I did was to shove a dollar bill into the tonsorial artist's palm. During the progress of the shave I learned the reason whv th(^ landlord gave us the 110 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLO^yER. cold shoulder. It seems he thought we were lumbermen. The barber told me some lumbermen stopped there some time before and left behind a jirolific stock of lice, and the house noAV drew the line on lumbermen. When I returned to the attic, I told the doctor the wherefore jof our recep- tion. We resohed then and there to show the landlord and m^ft^Fr /% -i ^ Chase's Carry. his guests that a canoeist Avhile running Chase's Carry, Twin Brook and Nigger Brook rapids is not expected to be decked out in a swallow-tailed coat and a stove-pipe hat. In our grips we had suits of clothes that would not be out of place along Fifth Avenue. Like the girl who was expecting her beau, we donned our best. The supper bell rang. The landlord, at the request of some of the guests, THE OlILITERATIOX OF A ''FIRST IMl'KESSION.'' Ill intended to side-track us into the kitchen. As we entered, the dining-room, the landlord nearly had a fit. Instead of "lousy lumbermen," his "guests Avere Broadway swells. We were shown seats at the right and left hand of the head of the table. We were the "star boarders'' from that time out. That night we camped in the bridal chamber instead of in the attic. The next day, at the invitation of the proprietor, we attended an excursion to Temiscouata Lake and were the lions of the occasion. We generously tipped all the help around the hotel, and when we departed on the train for Fort Kent the guests and the whole hotel force, from the boss to the bootblack, Avere at the depot to see us off. We thought the landlord never would get through apologizing for his action, and no doubt the sequel to our entrance into Connors smoothed the way for many a weary, unkempt canoeman who followed in our wake. 112 WHEN THE WILD WOOD WAS IN FLOWER. VI. LIFE AT A SPORTING CAMP. Were I to live as long as Methuselah, the delightful summer I passed at Nelsou McXaughton's camp on Schoo- dic Lake, Maine, would not fade from my memory. The camp consisted of a large building in which we took our meals and several smaller camps near by. We Avere lucky to obtain one of the small camps built of cedar logs, con- taining four rooms, one with a fireplace. From its portico Ave could look oA^er a beautiful lake into the jungle beyond. Across the lake was a sandy beach where Ave bathed, and often saw the frisky deer frolicking along the shore. What a rest one gets at a sporting camp ! AYhat a change from the rush, roar and rattle of the great city ! Dress as you like, roam at Avill through the OA^er-fragrant, health- giving Avoods, or paddle your OAvn canoe over a lake well stocked Avith the finny tribe. What a pleasure it was to meet people who had laid aside the cares of business for pleasure bent! What an appetite and Avhat refreshing sleep come to a guest of a sporting camp ! The epicure Avho thinks that at a sporting camp he Avill have to live in a hoA'el and subsist on "soAA'-belly," Avill be agreeably disappointed. The cottage Ave occupied Avas as neat and clean as the apartment of a first-class hotel. Iron bed- steads Avith spotless linen and a. mattress on thetlevel, not crescent shaped, Avere among the furnisliings. IIoav uncom- JFl-: AT A sri )KTIX(; CAMI'. 113 fortable is llir lu'd willi the licad a.iid foot lii^i;lier than the center. Th(* cnlinai y (lei)ai'tnient of the sportini^- camp (Mpialed that of any restanrant from tlie Battery to the r>i'onx. The waitresses were French, and their accent ^ave a kind of "])arh^z-vons Fran(;ais'' flavor to tlie viands. Tlie iiuesls of tlie sjjorting camp were counterparts to Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger. tliose you find in tlie average city hoarding-house. Tlie man was there who talks all the time, and the one Avho is a |L;ood listener. In the corner sat the (piiet iientleman who had hunted the State over, had canoed down the West Branch and the Allagash, Avas an expert caster of the line, and a true sportsman in every sense of the word. In the ^^center of tli(^ stage" swaggert^l the citizen who never tired 114 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. telling anybody who would listen to him of the herds of moose and deer he had slaughtered, what a crack shot he was, yet who couldn't hit a barn unless he was inside of it with, the doors closed and tlie cracks battened. The old lady whom everybody liked, and the sensible girl who wears well, were in evidence. The head of the table was monopo- lized by the gossipy, middle-aged "gal- ' who tried to appear girlish, dressed and painted to kill, ready to marry any man in or out of sight, and who disgusted everybody, and finally had to fall back on the attaches of the house for any attention at all. Scattered here and there were guides, who listened — and inwardly chuckled — to the impossible stories of a tenderfoot, and last, but not least, in striking contrast to the dyspeptic individual who kicks at every- thing and tries to sour everybody around him, was the fat, jovial fellow Avho is always in good humor, has a joke for everybod}^, the sunshine of the camp. Generally at sporting camps there is lots of literature lying around. Among other books at '^Mc's" were several depicting the pleasures of camping out. Two school teach- ers from Brooklyn, N. Y., got so enthusiastic over the camping-out subject that they could not talk of anything else. They finally prevailed on several of the guests to join them in a camping-out expedition. None cf the eighteen Avho composed the party had ever camped out ex- cept one, a doctor from New Bedford, ^lass. As a matter of fact, the only camping out lie ever did wa.s when a guide did all the work; yet to hear him tell it, what he didn't know about handling a canoe, pitching tents and the like, w asn't worth knowing. For a Aveek before the expedition started nothing was talked of but camping out; in fact, tliey all got so enthu- siastic about it that some of tluMu couhhrt sleep, nor would LIFE AT A SrORTING CAMP. 115 they let anybody else. One of the ouests happened to men- tion a book he once read, "In the Glow of the Camp Fire," and the title caused the school-marms from Brooklyn to fairly yell with delight. The doctor from New Bedford was the great mogul of the outfit and would not listen to a suggestion of McNaughton's that they take a guide along. Mrs. ^IcNaughton worked herself nearly blind, cooking pies, bread and cakes for the crowd, and '^Mc'^ used up all the boxes and bags he had packing grub. The long-looked-for hour arrived. On rather a hot afternoon the eighteen enthusiasts in eii>lit canoes, loaded down with tents, guns, fishing-tackle, and no experience, amid songs, laughter and waving of handkerchiefs, passed down the historic waters of Schoodic Lake for a week's camping out. As they took tlieir departure a camera fiend from Key port, N. J., got a snapshot of them. The departing delegation was not aware that there is a "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" to camping out as well as to every other undertaking. As none of the campers knew anything about handling a carioe, their progress was slow. Four o'clock found tliem selecting a camping-ground. They looked to the doctor from Xew Bedford for the solution of all problems. After unloading the canoes, instead of taking them out of the water, carrying them up the bank and turning them bottom up, they left them partially in the water, tied to bushes. There were three tcmts, one for the ten ladies, one for the eight "sports," and a toilet tent. The doctor gave the directions for the procuring of the necessary material for setting up the tents. He got the forks and the ridge-poles up all right, but he neglected to tighten the guys. The sui)])(t was i^aten and, as the sun sank midst the forest, the ri\ui\) tire was lighted. How they all enjoyiMl their first experience around 116 WHEN THE WnJ)WOOI) WAS IX FLOWER. a camp fire! Tired nature at bist asserted itself. Shortly after the ladies retired they called to the doctor that some insects Avere biting* them. "I will fix that.'' The doctor had heard of a smudge, but had had little experience there- with. The doctor's smudge turned into a fire which spread to the blankets and the tent, and the ladies had hardly time to grab their clothes and get out before the tent went down. The boys gave up their tent to the ladies, the former having the canopy of heaven for a covering. The camp was again quieting down when one could hear the low ruml)ling of distant thunder. Lightning began to flash across the horizon. A fast-increasing wind was swa}'- ing the trees. White-caps were forming over the lake. As raindrops l>egan to fall the storm burst in all its fury. With a yell from the female contingent, down came the tent, with the girls under it. The tent was with difficulty pulled off of them. Standing behind trunks of trees for protection, the campers passed the balance of the night. As daylight came, Avhat a Avreck was l)efore them! Every- body Avas Avet to the skin and so thoroughly disgusted they decided to return home. They went doAvn to the lake for the canoes, and the sight nearly droA^e them distracted. Six of the canoes had been smashed on the rocks, and the other tAvo they could see out on the lake, partially sub- merged. The question arose how would they return. By the shore of the lake, heading bogs, etc., it would haA-e been at least ten miles. Notwithstanding that the doctor had proven himself ''N.G.," they seemed still to haA^e con- fidence in him, so when he suggested that they take a short cut through the woods to the Bangor and Aroostook Rail- road, they acted on the suggestion. FolloAving the doctor resulted in their getting lost in the woods. McNaughton had spent many years in the Avoods and LIFE AT A Sr()ltTIN(; CAMP. 117 on the lakes of Elaine, and had seen storms and "Smart Alecks'' before, so after brc^akfast he invited me to oo with him and sch' how tlu* camiKM's had weatherc^l the storm. Down the shore of tlu^ lake we slowly paddled alonj;. W(^ had covered ahont live miles when the keen eye of McXau^h- ton saw somethino tloatino on the lake that didn't seem to "Admiral" McNaughlou aud His Floei. his likin'ILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWER. minds, tliej began to realize what a canoe trip was over the waters of Maine, and were very thankful that the op- portunity was before them of participating in such a de- lightful adventure. The two sports, for the first time in many a moon, had gone twenty-four hours without a Man- hattan cocktail, and the Broadway swell without a Santa Cruz sour, something neither of them thought a possibility. In due course of time Ave arrived at Pine Stream Falls, or what was once a falls before they raised the waters of Chesuncook Lake. Here Ave Avere to camp for the night. Never before had any of the boys sat around a camp fire, and they enjoyed it thoroughly. The next morning my charge was bewailing the loss of his barber and his bath-tub. I told him it would improve his looks to let his Avhiskers grow, and, so far as the bath was concerned, the Avaters of the rivers and lakes of Maine were away ahead of Croton, both for purity and A^olume. Upon our arriA al at Mud Pond Carry Ave struck a piece of hard luck. On account of a breakdoAvn in connection with the outfit that totes ^^sports" over the carry, Ave Avere compelled to make it ourseh^es. There is one thing that can be said of a New Yorker, as a general rule, he is a good loser. If he was otherwise, he Avould not last long on Manhattan Island. But Avhat spenders! Not only haA^e they by their extraA^agance demoralized their OAvn country, but other countries as Avell. As Ave Avere loaded up to cross the carry, my charge dryly remarked that Ave looked more like immigrants just landed at Ellis Island than NeAV York bloods. On our arrival at Mud Pond, there stood six moose ready to receive us. None of my companions had ever seen a moose before. One of the sports remarked that such a sight Avas Avortli alone the price of admission. We camped THE REFORMATION. 127 that nio-ht on Telos Lake, ^yhvn^ I intended to tarry a while and take the hoys over to Sourdnahunk Lake for a fishino trip. I learned there that a o-uide can make or spoil a trip. The guides entered into the spirit of the occasion. The remark that one of the all-around sports made wlien we lunched at Delmonico's came true : ^'We will oiyp iiii^ the time of his life and a run for his money." But it was a different kind of a '^time of his life" than was meant when the remark was made. I have done lots of fishin.t» in Maine, but the three days we spent on Sourdnaliunk and the little ponds in that locality were the most successful. We re- turned to Telos with as tine a string of fish as ever "came down the pike." On our return to Telos, one of the guides said he was going to take a bath. As he said the word bath, the two sports looked at him with astonishment. They had heard the pronunciation of the soft '^a" by swells along the Great White Way, but its use by a guide in the wilds of Maine was something they couldn't fathom. At Telos there was a good head of water, and we made the run through the canal and down Webster Stream with- out the usual difficulties. At Mattagamon, on Grand Lake, we got our mail. We spent two days in camp there, the time being passed reading the newspapers and an- SAvering our letters. At Mattagamon I decided never again to have any mail forwarded to me until the end of the trip. The information that our letters conveyed in a measure marred the balance of the trip. T^ntil our arrival at Mattagamon, while we were communing witli nature, everything was delightful, but as soon as Ave came in touch with civilization — our uuiil— our troubles began. A let- ter conveyed the information to me that the Court of Ap- peals had handed down a decision that knocked me out of a fee of |2,000. Both of my sporting friends got similar 128 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. letters; stocks iu which they were both iuterested were off $30 per share. But the most disgusted one in the bunch was the young man. He was notified of the death of an uncle from whom he had expected a cool million or two, but, instead, he had been left, as the young man put it, "only the income on one million dollars.'' I don't believe I would have set up much of a howl if I had been left an assured income of |50,000 i^er year. The East Branch, from Grand Lake to Grindstone, is a battle between Avater and rocks ; one continuation of falls. There this young man realized Avhat Avas meant by hard work. From Grand Lake to BoAvlin Falls it was one continuous performance of loading, tramping and unload- ing, "backing and filling," so to speak. No Avonder the suggestion of the East Branch trip makes a guide shudder. It did me good to see the alcohol being tried out of those tAA'O old sports. If any reader of this article has a friend in need of trying out^ take him down the East Branch, and I Avill guarantee if he is aliA'e Avlien he reaches Bowlin Pitch lie Avill be devoid of all foreign matter. Upon our arriAal at Grindstone Ave again put on our Sunday-go-to-meetings, they having been sliipped from (ireenville Junction. When I tried to put on again Avhat was a loosely fitting pair of shoes, it seemed as if I Avas shoving my feet into a vise. Three weeks of moccasins had g'lYL'n my feet a chance to expand. We ridicule the Chinese Avomen for compressing their feet, and the society girl her waist, but how about ourselves? Will Ave ever dress com- fortably? I can recommend moccasins as the best corn- cure in the nmrket to-day. AVhile Ave Avere in camp at Hulling Machine Falls, after everything had quietcnl doAvn for the night, I received a call from the vouni; man. He excused himself for THE liKFOKMATlON, 129 The Author. 130 WHEN THE WILDWOOD \yAS IX FLOWER. calling on me at so late an hour. He came to thank me for taking him on the trip and the advice I had given him. He said it had given him a chance to think over what a fool he had been, and on his return to the city he proposed to be a man. He spoke about his uncle's Avill and its reflection on himself, and he was determined to show his kith and kin that he could be trusted. On his return to the city he acted on the oft-expressed wish of his father to become a member of his firm, and to-day he is one of New York's most successful and respected merchants. If one should drop into Rector's at each recurring birthday of this once gilded youth, he would see sitting at a table, celebrating the event, the now respected merchant, the same two all-around sports, and your humble servant. These young men who are born with a silver spoon in their mouths, too indolent to follow a business calling, and who by a display of wealth demoralize the youth of both sexes, should, like the convict, be isolated with their kind, so they would no longer be a source of anxiety to their parents, a nuisance to those with whom they come in con- tact, and a menace to the State. THE END. I Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger, i g The first literary effort by the author of this book, g g was pronounced by many of its readers to be one of g g the most interesting of little volumes. Chief Justice ^ g Fuller, of the United States Supreme Court, wrote Mr. ^ g Stanton that it was ''the most excellent and vivid ^ g brochure" he had ever read. The book describes the g g three most popular canoe trips in the State of Maine g g — the Allagash, and the East and West Branches of g § the Penobscot. The author tells most entertainingly g ^ of his hunting and fishing experience, and also gives ^ § plenty of information and advice useful to the reader, ^ § as he takes him from New York City by the Maine g § Steamship Company Line to Portland, thence through § § the Maine woods, and brings him back to the city by the § ^ Fall Kiver Line. The story is one of actual experiences, § ^ and the author was fortunate to have as his companion § ^ Dr. Hazelton, of Bangor, one of the best amateur ^ ^ camera artists in the country, and the book contains § ^ eighty half-tone pictures of the scenery and the wild § ^ animals of the Maine woods. a^ ^ The book is printed on specially made wood-cut ^ fSk paper, from large type, contains one hundred and ^ « twenty-five pages, fully illustrated, and is bound in ^ « attractive cloth binding, with printed inset on the p ^ front cover. Price, one dollar, net. ^ ^ & ^ It can be secured at all bookstores, or it will be ^ g sent by mail upon receipt of price, $1.00, and 8 cents *^ g additional for postage. Address all orders to « i J. S. OQILVIE PUBLISHING COHPANY, I § BOX 767. 57 ROSE STREET. NEW YORK. § 235 90 -^^^ •:/(v'^g^A:^ ^-^ A^ ♦«ai^^ >. .:^^ /.- ^bV" ^°-n^. .*• ,-t°* >°-^* \<^^ ' ..^^\ o_ >°-n*.. •. .h^ .„ .^-^ .>V;xv •^.. .^ /«S1^', -^Z y^, ^ ^* , • %.*^ : ■4.^ ^■/ **>/^-\/ %'-.^*/ * <.-*°*