Hills, lakes, and forest streams: or, A tramp in the Chateaugay woods

Front matter

rSi f s,-f > r, ,u.,E iL ft

Cornell University Library

The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library.

Preface

If the reader will lay before him a map of the counties of Clinton, Franklin, St. Lawrence and Essex, and beginning at the Chazy lake, run his eye along thence to Bradley's Lake, then to the Chateaugay, then west to Ragged Lake and Indian Lake, and so down through the series of small lakes, to the St. Regis, and then to the Saranacs, and down along again through three small lakes to the Racquette river, and then down that beautiful watercourse to Tupper's Lake, and to Long Neack, he will note a broad sweep of country, containing millions of acres, which, when the following pages were written, was a perfect wilderness. He can trace out a circle of some two hundred miles in circumference, enclosing natural scenery the most wild and romantic, lakes and rivers the most beautiful imaginable. I was out there several weeks in the woods, along the streams, and floating on those beautiful lakes, and saw during that time no face of a white man, save that of my vi Preface.

guide, or perhaps my own, reflected back from the quiet depths of some of those pure waters, that nestle so quietly among the ancient forests and the hills.

I was on a " tramp,'' partly for health and partly for pleasure. I had no intention of publishing a book of adventures, but I kept memoranda in pencil in small fieldbooks, and after my return wrote them out as my leisure permitted. Some three or four of the first chapters were published in the shape of letters to editors of my acquaintance. The balance rested until I became connected with the press, as the editor of the Albany State Register, I looked upon the manuscript as a sort of fund, upon which I could draw for light reading, with which to amuse my readers when pressed for "copy." Upon submitting it to one of the proprietors of the paper for his aid in making selections, he surprised me somewhat by saying it was all readable, and advised me to begin at the beginning, without troubling myself by making extracts. I followed his advice, and a large portion of the work was thus published in chapters, in my paper. It was well spoken of by friends, in whose judgment I had confidence, and was somewhat extensively copied by the press. I was advised to publish the whole in a book form. I submitted it to a gentleman in the publishing line, and here it is, my first, and very possibly my last effort, at authorship. It

Preface. vii

does not challenge criticism. It makes no special preten^ sions to literary merit. People who love nature, who have a taste for the old woods, the lakes, and streams, and the forest sports, may read, and possibly be amused by it. They will doubtless find that it contains many faults, if they choose to look for them.

There was, and doubtless still is, plenty of fish, plenty of deer, plenty of sport in that wild region, and, I venture to say, that there is no locality in the United States, at all to be compared with it in natural beauty of scenery. I was over most of the ground again last fall. The places I visited five years ago, are vastly easier of access now than they were then. The tourist can now go from Port Kent, on Lake Champlain, to the foot of the Lower Saranac, in a day. He will travel the whole distance, save about twelve miles, on a plank road, and the balance on a tolerably smooth common road. All making the most delightful day's journey imaginable.

On the banks of the Lower Saranac, literally at the end of the road, he will find " Martin's House," a new and comfortable country hotel, kept by pleasant, obliging people. Here he will hire a boatman, with his boat and tent, cooking utensils, and a store of provisions, and go a hundred miles, if he chooses, " outside of a fence," over the most beautiful lakes, and along the most delightful rivers viii Preface.

and streams that the eye ever looked upon, but all wild, remember — all as nature threw them down there, among old primeval things. His journeyings will not be toilsome, he will have no tramping in the woods, save ooca« sional short carrying places, over which his boatman will march with his craft, like a great turtle with his shell on his back. He will see much that I saw, and have attempted to describe, and a good deal that I did not see, perhaps. And if he loves nature, and takes matters easy, and gives himself time, he will come out of the woods, as I did, a stronger, healthier, and a wiser man.

The Author.

Moonlight on the Watee — A Village wiped out — The Atj Sable — Keesevillb — The Gorge — An Oee Pit 324

I

ho ! for the wlldwooda ! — the lakes and the mountaih Streams.

Eeadek —

Have you ever been away in the wild woods, beyond the range of civilization, where the sound of the hammer, the lowing of flocks and herds, the voice of the ploughman, as he cries " Gee up ! Gee whoa I" to his weary team, were never heard? Have you ever stood on the margin of some beautiful lake, as it lay slumbering in the midst of nature's wild luxuriance, above which the mountains reared their gigantic heads to the clouds, and around which the tail trees stood as "God and nature" made them, unscarred by the woodman's axe, sighing and moaning in the summer winds that swept among them? Have you all alone, by yourself or with an esperienced woodman.

in a little craft lie-wn from tlie solid trunk of some gigantic pine, explored its little bays, its secluded inlets canopied by tlie wide-spreading arms of the trees, and festooned by the wild vines hanging gracefully from the branches above you? Have you listened to the voice of the tiny wave, as it broke in ripples on the white sand at your feet, or the song of the little brook, as it danced over the rocks, to mingle with the pure waters before you? Have you heard, of a moonlight night, as you floated on its silvery bosom, the song of the whip-poor-will, the solemn hooting of the owl, the deep bass of the frog, the shrill cry of the loon, the call of the wood duck, and the thousand other mysterious voices that come up from wood and lake — all mingling in the wild harmony of nature's nightly forest hymn ? If' you have not, throw down your book or your pen, close your ponderous ledger, cast away your briefs, give care to the dogs, and turn your back upon the glare and heat of the city, its eternal jostlings and monotonous noises, and fly to the deep shadows of the mountains, the forest dells, and the running brooks — away from clustered houses, beyond the green fields, and rough it for a few weeks in the woods, among the tall trees and

The Wildwoods. 15

the streams, where the lakes lay sleeping alone in the northern wilds.

In these times of railroads and steamboats, a few hundred miles are as nothing. You rise in the morning in the heart of the Empire State, the centre of a circle containing three millions of people. You sleep at night on the circumference of that circle, on the confines of a broad sweep of country, as yet scarcely explored, known only to the bold hunter, who spends all his seasons save the winter, in the pursuit of the game that dwells only in the depths of the forest. Jump aboard of the cars at Troy for Whitehall. Tarry not a moment at Saratoga; there are people there — searchers after pleasure or pelf. The rich, the gay, the fashionable are there ; invalids in pursuit of health, and sharpers in pursuit of plunder, all congregate there. Leave them behind you, and ho ! for the wildwoods, the lakes, and the forest streams. Stop not at Whitehall, pleasant though it be ; there are people there too. A steamboat will hurry you to Plattsburgh ; jump aboard and be off 1 You will soon be gliding along the beautiful waters of the Champlain. You will see " Old Ti.," the surrender of which, old Ethan Allen, as he, with his Green Mountain boys came tumbling over tlie walls, demanded in the "name of the great Jehovah, and the Continental Congress 1" You will see the ruins on Crown Point — grim monuments of a vanished age ! You will see on your left the mountains of Essex, lifting their bald heads to the clouds. On the right you will see flocks and herds, feeding in green fields that stretch back to the base of the hills, and away off in the distance, the Green Mountains looming up in solemn grandeur, on the summits of which the mists of heaven rests, and along whose sides gigantic shadows chase each other, as the light clouds flit before the sun.

Plattsburgh is classic ground. It was the scene of a notable sea-fight, and of a hard contest on the land. But leave it behind you. Battle-fields are commonplace ; you can find them nearer home, where the bones of slaughtered men are more abundant, and the halo of blood-bought glory is brighter. Leave fighting-men to moralize over the places of the fight, and be off for Dannemora, the prison in the woods. There you will be at the end of the road. There civilization has made a pause. Tame life will be behind you, while aU before you will be forest, wild

The Wildwoods. 17

and unbroken, luxuriant and solemn, tall trees and running brooks, quiet lakes and rugged mountains. Old primeval things all, as they were spoken into existence by the voice of God.

II

The PaisoN in the Woods.— TaE Chazt Trout Fishiho.— • Hunting bt Torchlight.

I ARRIVED at Dannemora on the 26th of June. My old friend seized upon my baggage and sent it to his house, and thea gave me my choice to follow it or quarrel with him. We had been friends too long to quarrel, so I followed my trunk, and made my headquarters with him. To those who know him, nothing need be said of his kindness and hospitahty, his quiet and gentlemanly deportment, his m^nly sincerity and firmness of character. To those who do not know him, it needs only be said, " he is every inch a man." Some five miles from Dannemora, in the woods, lays Chazy Lake, on the banks of which is a shantee erected for the benefit of the fishermen that visit it. The way to this lake lays along a path through

Teout-fishing. 19

woods, that winds up and over a mountain some fifteen hundred feet in elevation,

The morning after my arrival I left Dannemora, and struck into the woods. I procured a guide, who was perfectly familiar with all the wild region which I proposed to visit, who carried a large pack of provisions, and other things necessary for our tramp in the woods. Among the tools regarded as indispensable, were an axe and augur. He carried no gun. For myself my load consisted of a rifle, and my fishing apparatus, including basket and rods.

How I love the woods 1 the deep shadows and the tall trees — ^the music of the woods too, its thousand voices all tuned to harmony, and all singing of primitive life and happiness. I love the mountain stream as he goes dashing and frisking over the rocks, diving under the logs, whirling away under caverned banks, where the trout sleeps, dancing over the pebbles and spreading abroad quietly, as if asleep in the still places. We arrived at Chazy, after a weary walk of three hours. It is a beautiful sheet of water, five miles in length, by one or more in breadth. Above it, on the south and east, tower lofty mountains covered with gigantic timber, while on the west and nortli the old forest stretches away in all its primeval grandeur. It is indented with beautiful bays, in which a boat may float unseen from the broad lake itselfi A hundred httle streams come dancing and laughing down precipitous ledges, or from Uttle inlets, into which our canoe would glide, while above us the branches of the trees, festooned with wild vines met, hke an arbor in a lady's garden —

" We cast our lines in Largo Bay.''

Eeader, did you ever throw the fly to tempt the silvery denizen of the lake, or river, to his destruction? Have you watched him, as it skimmed like a living insect along the surface, dart from his hiding-place, and rush upon the tempting but deceitful morsel ; and have you noticed his astonishment, when he found the hook was in his jaw? Have you watched him, as he bent your slender rod "like a reed shaken by the wind," in his efforts to free himself, and then have you reeled him to your hand, and deposited him in your basket, as the spoil of your good right arm ? If you have not, leave the dull, monotonous, every-day things around you, and flee to the Chazy Lake. If you have and love the sport, still tramp over the

Hunting by Torchlight. 21

Mils, beneatli tlie cool shades of the brave old trees, to the Chazy.

"We did not wantonly waste the good things of God. In ten minutes we had secured trout enough for our supper and breakfast, and our consciences would permit us to go no further. "We returned to our shantee, and having supped, prepared for a different kind of sport in the evening. The forest abounds with deer, and these animals in the night come to the water, to get rid of the insects that torment them, and to feed on the hlies and grasses that grow in the shallow water near the shore. "While thus feeding, you may paddle a canoe, with a hght in the bow, literally up to them, provided the light is so arranged that you are behind it in the shade. They wUl stand gazing fearlessly at the light until the canoe, in some instances, fairly touches them. With a small torch of fatwood in the bow of our dug-out, we shoved from the shore about nine o'clock, in pursuit of deer. "We mOved slowly and silently along the margin of the lake, my guide seated at the stem of the canoe, and I crouched in the bow, just behiad the light, and shaded from it by broad sheets of bark, — so arranged that the rays would fall on the forward sight of my rifle. "We had gone but a short distance when I discovered, some eight or ten rods in advance of us, what to me seemed two balls of fire, but which in fact was the reflection of our light from the staring eyeballs of an old buck that had been feeding in the lake. Unmindful of the admonitions of my guide, I leaned over the side of the boat to get a better view of his buckship, when the light fell upon my face. I have been called a goodlooking man, and told that my features were comely, but that buck thought otherwise, for the moment he saw it he bounded away, and went whistling and snorting up the mountain. He had no appreciation of manly beauty !

We passed silently on into a little bay, where the same phenomenon of double lights presented itself. Slowly and silently the boat glided along towards the spot, when a shght deviation from our course showed us a large deer gazing stupidly at our light. We advanced to within some forty feet of where he stood, when the canoe came to a stand, and I fired. The ball went through his brain, and he fell dead. We were now provided with venison, and we returned to our shantee. Fatigue makes rest pleasant, and we slept soundly on green hemlock boughs that night.

Hunting by Torchlight. 23

A smudge protected us from the musquitoes and black flies, and our slumbers were unbroken.

Tke next day we started for Bradley's pond, a little lake some five miles deeper in tbe forest, and midway between the Shazee and the Upper Chataugay. On the bank we built a temporary shantee, and I threw my fly for a few minutes — but it was wasteful to take trout as I caught them there, and I desisted. "We coasted this little sea before evening. It is perhaps two miles in circumference, but has little that is attractive about it, save that it lays there all alone in the forest, and great trees hem it in on all sides. Its shores are low and marshy, and I cannot recommend it for its beauty. In the evening we prepared a torch, and struck out on the water in pursuit of deer. It is marvellous, the number there were, along the shores of this little lake. It affords, however, abundant pasture for them. Pond-lilies and grasses grow in the shallow water in great profusion. The pond-lily, in these lakes, differs from any I have ever seen elsewhere. It grows up from the bottom, sometimes from a depth of fifteen feet, with a great rough stem like a cabbage-stalk, of the same pithy and fibrous texture, as large as a man's arm, until it reaches the surface, and there shoots out a hundred tendrils all round, at the end of each one having a great round leaf. From each of these great stems, the leaves thus arranged, and connected with it by the small tendrils, spread over a surface of four or six feet in diameter. It is upon these large stems that the deer feed. They manage to loosen them in some way from the bottom, and feed upon them as they float upon the surface. We could hear them stamping in the water, and the grating sound of their teeth, as they bit into the stems of the pond-lilies. Every few rods, double lights would glisten before us, and strange to say, the stupid beasts would stand until the canoe approached within six feet of them, gazing in apparent amazement at the strange light that was advancing upon them, but when we looked out from the shadow and showed them our faces. Lord ! how they would snort and run. We had no occasion for venison, and we did them no harm that night. In the morning we packed up again, and dove deeper into the forest. We struck for the Chaeaugay (called Shatagee) Lakes, and about ten o'clock came to the head of the Upper Lake. This lake is often visited by sportsmen in the summer months, and has as often, almost been described. It is rarely, how-

Hunting by Torchlight. 25

ever, that it has been visited in the direction we came. It has usually been approached from the Lower Lake, on the lower portion of which is a settlement. Indeed, I was told that it could not weU be reached from the Chazy. But my guide knew the woods, and I followed him. I had good sport every mile of the way. "We followed the outlet of Bradley's Lake, and crooked enough it was too. But the stream abounds in trout, and I shot a fine deer and two wood-rabbits on the route.