Adventures in the wilderness; or, Camp-life in the Adirondacks

Front matter

ADVENTURES

S^fJO IN

THE WILDERNESS:

Contents

Page Introduction '

Chap.

I. The Wilderness.

Introduction

SEVEEAL of the chapters composing this volume were originally published in the '' IMeriden Literary Eecorder/' during the fall and winter of 1867. Through it they received a wide circulation, and brought to the author many letters from all parts of the country, urging him to continue the series, and, when completed, publish them in a more permanent form. La^vyers, j)hysicians, clergymen, and sporting men were united for once in the expression of a common desire. Not a few delightful acquaintances were made through this medium. It was suggested by these unseen friends, that such a series of descriptive pieces, unencumbered with the ordinary reflections and jottings of a tourist's book, free from the slang of guides, and questionable jokes, and *' bear stories," with which works of a similar character have to a great extent been filled, would be gladly welcomed by a large number of people who, born in the country, and familiar in boyhood with the gun and rod, still retain, in un-

8 INTKODUCTION.

diniinislied freshness and vigor, their edklj love for manly exercises and field sports. Each article, it was urged, should stand alone by itself, having its own framework of time and character, and representing a single experience. The favorable reception the articles thus published received, and the cordial communications from total strangers which they elicited, together with a strong, ever-present desire on my part to encourage manly exercise in the open air, and familiarity with Nature in her wildest and grandest aspects, persuaded me into concurrence with the suggestion. The composition of these articles has furnished me, amid grave and arduous labors, with mental recreation, from time to time, almost equal to that which I enjoyed when passing through the experiences which they are intended to describe.

In the hope that what I have written may contribute to the end suggested, and prove a source of pleasure to many who, like myself, were " born of hunter's breed and blood," and who, pent up in narrow offices and narrower studies, weary of the city's din, long for a breath of mountain air and the free life by field and flood, I subscribe myself their friend and brother.

THE WILDERNESS.

WHY I GO THERE, — HOW I GET THERE, — WHAT I DO THERE, — AND WHAT IT COSTS.

THE Adirondack Wilderness, or tlie " North "Woods," as it is sometimes called, lies between the Lakes George and Champlain on the east, and the river St. Lawrence on the north and west. It reaches northward as far as the Canada line, and southward to Booneville. Its area is about that of the State of Connecticut. The southern part is kno^vn as the Brown Tract Region, with which the whole wilderness bysome is confused, but with no more accuracy tlian any one county might be said to comprise an entire State. Indeed, " Brown's Tract " is the least interesting portion of the Adirondack region. It lacks the lofty mountain scenery, the intricate mesh-work of lakes, and the wild grandeur of the country to the north. It is the lowland district, comparatively tame and uninviting. Not until you reach the Racquette do you get a glimpse of the magnificent scenery which makes this wilderness to rival Switzerland. There, on the very 1* ridge-boarcl of tlie vast water-slied which slopes northward to the St. Lawrence, eastward to- the Hudson, and soiithw^ard to the Mohawk, you can enter upon a voyage the like of which, it is safe to say, the world does not anywhere else fmnish. For hundreds of miles I have boated up and down that wilderness, going ashore only to "carry" around a fall, or across some narrow ridge dividing the otherwise connected lakes. Eor wrecks I have paddled my cedar shell in all directions, swinging northerly into the St. Kegis chain, westward nearly to Potsdam, southerly to the Black Eiver country, and from thence penetrated to that almost unvisited region, the " South Branch," without seeing a face hut my guide's, and the entire circuit, it must be remembered, w^as through a wilderness yet to echo to the lumberman's axe. It is estimated that a thousand lakes, many yet imvisited, lie embedded in this vast forest of pine and hemlock. From the summit of a mountain, two years ago, I counted, as seen by my naked eye, forty-four lakes gleaming amid the depths of the wilderness like gems of purest ray amid the folds of emerald-colored velvet. Last summer I met a gentleman on the Piacquette wdio had just received a letter from a brother in Switzerland, an artist by profession, in wdiich he said, that, " having travelled over all Switzerland, and the Ilhine and PJione region, he had not met with scenery

WHY I GO THERE. 11

which, judged from a purely artistic point of \iew, combined so many beauties in connection with such grandeur as the lakes, mountains, and forest of the Adirondack region presented to the gazer's eye." And yet thousands are in Europe to-day as tourists who never gave a passing thought to this marvellous country lying as it were at their very floors.

Another reason why I Adsit the Adirondacks, and uroje others to do so, is because I deem the excursion eminently adapted to restore impaired health. Indeed, it is marvellous Avhat benefit physically is often derived from a trip of a few weeks to these woods. To such as are afflicted with that dire parent of ills, dyspepsia, or have lurking in their system consumptive tendencies, I most earnestly recommend a month's experience among the pines. The air which you there inhale is such as can be found only in high mountainous regions, pure, rarefied, and bracing. The amount of venison steak a consumptive will consume after a week's residence in that appetizing atmosphere is a subject of daily and increasingwonder. I have known delicate ladies and fragile school-girls, to whom all food at home was distasteful and eating a pure matter of duty, average a gain of a pound per day for the round trip. This is no exac^c^eration, as some who. will read these lines know. The spruce, hemlock, balsam.

and pine, wliicli largely compose this wilderness, yield iipon the air, and especially at night, all their curative qualities. Many a night have I laid down upon my bed of balsam-houghs and been lulled to sleep by the murmur of Avaters and the low sighing melody of the pines, while the air w^as laden wdth the mingled perfume of cedar, of balsam and the water-lily. E'ot a few, far advanced in that dread disease, consumption, have found in this wilderness renewal of life and health. I recall a young man, the son of wealthy parents in New York, who lay dying in that great city, attended as he was by the best skill that money could secure. A friend calling upon him one day chanced to speak of the Adirondacks, and that many had found help from a trip to their region. From that moment he pined for the woods. He insisted on what his family called " his insane idea," that the mountain air and the aroma of the forest would cure him. It was his daily request and entreaty that he might go. At last his parents consented, the more readily because the physicians assured them that their son's recovery was impossible, and his death a mere matter of time. They started with him for the north in search of life. AVhen he arrived at tlie point where he w^as to meet his guide he was too reduced- to walk. The guide seeing his condition refused to take him into the woods, fear-

WHY 1 GO THERE. 13

ing, as he plainly expressed it, that he would " die on his hands." At last another guide was prevailed upon to serve him, not so much for the money, as he afterwards told me, but because he pitied the young man, and felt that " one so near death as he was should be gratified even in his whims."

The boat was half filled with cedar, pine, and balsam boughs, and the young man, carried in the arms of his guide from the house, was laid at full length upon them. The camp utensils w^ere put at one end, the guide seated himself at the other, and the little boat passed with the living and the dying do'svn the lake, and was lost to the group w^atching them amid the islands to the south. This was in early June. The first week the guide carried the young man on his back over all the portages, lifting him in and out of the boat as he might a child. But the healing properties of the balsam and pine, which were his bed by day and night, began to exert their power. Awake or asleep, he inhaled their fragrance. Their pungent and healing odors penetrated his diseased and irritated lungs. The second day out his cough was less sharp and painful. At the end of the first week he could walk by leaning on the paddle. The second week he needed no support. The third week the cough ceased entirely. From that time he improved with wonderful rapidity.

He "went in" the first of June, carried in the arms of his guide. The second week of November he " came out " bronzed as an Indian, and as hearty. In five months he had gained sixty-five pounds of flesh, and flesh, too, " well packed on," as they say in the woods. Coming out he carried the boat over all portages ; the very same over which a iew months before the guide had carried him, and pulled as strong an oar as any amateur in the wilderness. His meeting with his family I leave the reader to imagine. The wilderness received him almost a corpse. It returned him to his home and the world as happy and healthy a man as ever bivouacked under its pines.

This, I am aw^are, is an extreme case, and, as such, may seem exaggerated; but it is not. I might instance many other cases wdiich, if less startling, are equally corroborative of the general statement. There is one sitting near me, as I write, the color of whose cheek, and the clear brightness of whose eye, cause my heart to go out in ceaseless gratitude to the woods, amid which she found that health and strength of w^hich they are the proof and sign. For five summers have we visited the wilderness. From four to seven weeks, each year, have we breathed the breath of the mountains ; bathed in the waters which sleep at their base ; and made our couch at night of

SPORTING FACILITIES. 15

moss and balsam-boughs, beneath the whispering trees. I feel, therefore, that I am able to speak from experience touching this matter ; and I believe that, all things being considered, no portion of our country surpasses, if indeed any equals, in health-giving qualities, the Adirondack Wilderness.

SPORTINa FACILITIES.

This wilderness is often called the " Sportsman's Paradise " ; and so I hold it to be, when all its advantages are taken into account. If any one goes to the North Woods, expecting to see droves of deer, he will return disappointed. He can find them west and north, around Lake Superior, and on the Plains ; but nowhere east of the AUeghanies. Or if one expects to find trout averaging three or four pounds, eager to break surface, no matter where or when he casts his fly, he will come back from his trip a " sadder and a wiser man." If this is his idea of what constitutes a " sportsman's paradise," I advise him not to go to the Adirondacks. Deer and trout do not abound there in any such numbers : and yet there are enough of both to satisfy any reasonable expectation. Gentlemen often ask me to compare the " North Woods " with the " Maine Wilderness." The fact is, it is difficult to make any comparison between the two sections.

they are so unlike. But I am willing to give my reasons of preference for the Adirondacks. The fact is, nothing could induce me to visit Maine. If I was going east at all, I should keep on, nor stop until I reached the Provinces. I could never bring my mind to pass a month in Maine, with the North Woods within forty-eight hours of me. I will tell you why. Go where you will, in Maine, the lumhermen have been before you ; and lumbermen are the curse and scourge of the wilderness. Wlierever the axe sounds, the pride and beauty of the forest disappear. A lumbered dis- .trict is the most dreary and dismal region the eye of man ever beheld. The mountains are not merely shorn of trees, but from base to summit fires, kindled by accident or malicious purpose, have swept their sides, leaving the blackened rocks exposed to the eye, and here and there a few unsightly trunks leaning in all directions, from which all the branches and green foliage have been burnt away. The streams and trout-pools are choked with saw-dust, and filled with slabs and logs. The rivers are blockaded with "booms" and lodged timber, stamped all over the ends with the owner's "mark." Every eligible site for a camp has been appropriated; and bones, offal, horse-manure, and all the debris of a deserted lumbermen's village is strewn around, offensive both to eye and nose. The hills and shores are

SPORTING FACILITIES. 17

littered with rotten wood, in all stages of decomposition, emitting a damp, mouldy odor, and sending forth countless millions of flies, gnats, and mosquitoes to prey upon you. Now, no number of deer, no quantities of trout, can entice me to such a locality. He who fancies it can go ; not I. In the Adirondack Wilderness you escape this. There the lumberman has never been. No axe has sounded along its mountain-sides, or echoed across its peaceful waters. The forest stands as it has stood, from the beginning of time, in all its majesty of growth, in all the beauty of its unshorn foliage. No fires have blackened the hills ; no logs obstruct the rivers ; no saw-dust taints and colors its crystal waters. The promontories which stretch themselves half across its lakes, the islands which hang as if suspended in their waveless and translucent depths, have never been marred by the presence of men careless of all but gain. You choose the locality which best suits your eye, and build your lodge under unscarred trees, and upon a carpet of moss, untrampled by man or beast. There you live in silence, unbroken by any sounds save such as you yourseK may make, away from all the business and cares of civilized life.

Another reason of my preference for the Adirondack region is based upon the mode and incmncr in which your sporting is done. Now I do not plead guilty to the vice of laziness. If necessary, I can

•work, and work sliarply; but I have no special love for labor, in itself considered ; and certain kinds of work, I am free to confess, I ablior ; and if there is one kind of work which I detest more than another, it is traminng ; and, above all, tramping through a lumbered district. How the thorns lacerate you ! How the brambles tear your clothes and pierce your flesh ! How the mesh-work of fallen tree-tops entangles you 1 I would not walk two miles through such a country for all the trout that swim ; and as for ever casting a fly from the slip]3ery surface of an old mill-dam, no one ever saw me do it, nor ever will. I do not say that some may not find amusement in it. I only know that I could not. N'ow, in the North Woods, owing to their marvellous water-communication, you do all ^^ our sporting from your boat. If you wish to go one or ten miles for a " fish," your guide paddles you to the sj^ot, and serves you while you handle the rod. This takes from recreation every trace of toil. You have all the excitement of sporting, without any attending physical weariness. And what luxury it is to course along the shores of these secluded lakes, or glide down the winding reaches of these rivers, overhung by the outlying pines, and fringed with water-lilies, mingling their fragrance with the odors of cedar and balsam ! To me this is better than tramjmig. I have sported a month at a time, without walldng as many miles

SPORTING FACILITIES. 19

as there were weeks in tlie month. To my mind, this peculiarity elevates the Adirondack region above all its rivals, East or West, and more than all else justifies its otherwise pretentious claim as a " Sportsman's Paradise." In beauty of scenery, in health-giving qualities, in the easy and romantic manner of its sporting, it ^5 a paradise, and so will it continue to be while a deer leaves his track upon the shores of its lakes, or a trout shows himself above the surface of its waters. It is this peculiarity also which makes an excursion to this section so easy and delightful to ladies. There is nothing in the trip which the most delicate and fragile need fear. And it is safe to say, that, of all Vvdio go into the woods, none enjoy the experiences more than ladies, and certain it is that none are more benefited by it.

But what about game, I hear the reader inquire. Are deer plenty ? Is the fishing good ? Well, I reply, every person has his own standard by which to measure a locality, and therefore it is difficult to answer with precision. Moreover, it is not alone the presence of game which makes good sporting. Many other considerations, such as the skill of the sportsman, and the character and ability of the guide, enter into this problem and make the solution difficult. A j)oor shot, and a green hand at the rod, will have poor success anywhere, no matter how good the sporting is ;

and I have known parties to be "starved out/' where other men, with better guides, were meeting with royal success. With a guide who understands his business, I would undertake to feed a party of twenty persons the season through, and seldom should they sit down to a meal lacking either trout or venison. I passed six weeks on the Eacquette last summer, and never, save at one meal, failed to see both of the two delicious articles of diet on my table. Generally speaking, no inconvenience is experienced in this direction. Always observing the rule, not to kill more than the camp can eat, which a true sportsman never transgresses, I have paddled past more deer within easy range than I ever lifted my rifle at. The same is true in reference to trout. I have unjointed my rod when the water was alive with leaping fish, and experienced more pleasure as I sat and saw them rise for food or play, than any thoughtless violator of God's laws could feel in wasting the stores which Nature so bountifully opens for our need. I am not in favor of " game laws," passed for the most part in the interest of the few and the rich, to the deprivation of the poor and the many, but I would that fine and imprisonment both might be the punishment of him who, in defiance of every humane instinct and reverential feeling, out of mere love for "sport," as some are pleased to call it, directs a

WHAT IT COSTS. 21

ball or hooks a fish when no necessity demands it. Such ruthless destruction of life is slaughter, — coarse, cruel, unjustifiable butchery. Palliate it who may, practise it who can, it is just that and nothing short. To sum up what I have thus far written, I say to all brother sportsmen, that, all things considered, the sporting, both with rifle and rod, in the North Woods is good, — good enough to satisfy any reasonable desire. In this, please remember that I refer to the wilderness proper, and not to the lumbered and inhabited and therefore ovcr-hnnted borders of it. I have known parties to take board at North Elba, or Malone, or Luzerne, and yet insist that they " had been into the Adirondacks."

WHAT IT COSTS.

This I know to some is a matter of no interest at aU, but to others, among whom, unfortunately, the writer must number himself, it is a matter of vital importance. The committee on "ways and means " in our " house " is the most laborious of aU, and the six years a little woman has held the chairmanship of it has made her exceedingly cautious and conservative. Some very interesting debates occur before this committee, and no demur on the part of the defeated party, as I have

22 ADVENTUKES IN THE WILDEENESS.

often found, can change the unalterable decision. What is true in the case of the writer is largely true in respect to the majority of the profession to which he belongs. Yet it is in the ministry that you find the very men who would be the most benefited by this trip. Wliether they should go as sportsmen or tourists, or in both capacities, a visit to the N'orth Woods could not fail of giving them precisely such a change as is most desirable, and needed by them. In the wilderness they would find that perfect relaxation which all jaded minds require. In its vast solitude is a total absence of sights and sounds and duties, which keep the clergyman's brain and heart strung up, the long year through, to an intense, unnatural, and often fatal tension. There, from a thousand sources of invigoration, flow into' the exhausted mind and enfeebled body currents of strength and life. There sleep woos you as the shadows deepen along the lake, and retains you in its gentle embrace until frightened away by the guide's merry call to breakfast. You would be astonished to learn, if I felt disposed to tell you, how many consecutive hours a certain minister sleeps during the first week of his annual visit to the woods ! Ah me, the nights I have passed in the woods ! How they haunt me with their sweet, suggestive memories of silence and repose ! How harshly the steel-shod hoofs smite against the flinty pavement

WHAT IT COSTS. 23

beneath my window, and clash with rude interru]Dtions upon my ear as I sit recalling the tranquil hours I have spent beneath the trees ! What restful slumber was mine ; and not less gently than the close of day itself did it fall upon me, as I stretched myself upon my bed of balsam-boughs, with Eover at my side, not twenty feet from the shore where the ripples were playing coyly with the sand, and lulled by the low monotone of the pines, whose branches were my only shelter from the dew which gathered like gems upon their spear-like stems, sank, as a falling star fades from sicjht, into fors^etfulness. And then the waking ! The air fresh with the aroma of the wilderness. Tlie morning blowing its perfumed breezes into your face. The drip, drip of the odorous gum in the branches overhead, and the colors of russet, of orange, and of gold streaking the eastern sky. After three or four nights of such slumber, the sleeper realizes the force and beauty of the great poet's apostrophe, —

" Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sledve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast."

If every church would make up a purse, and pack its worn and weary pastor off to the North Woods for a four weeks' jaunt, in the hot months of July and August, it would do a very sensible as well as pleasant act. For when the good dominie came back swarth and tough as an Indian, elasticity in his step, fire in his eye, depth and clearness in his reinvigorated voice, would n't there be some preaching ! And what texts he would have from which to talk to the little folks in the Sabbath school ! How their bright eyes would open and enlarge as he narrated his adventures, and told them how the good Father feeds the fish that swim, and clothes the mink and beaver wdth their warm and sheeny fur. The preacher sees God in the original there, and often translates him better from his unwritten works than from his written word. He will get more instructive spiritual material from such a trip than from all the "Sabbath-school festivals " and " pastoral tea-parties " with which the poor, smiling creature was ever tormented. It is astonishing how much a loving, spiritually-minded people can bore their minister. If I had a spite against any clerical brother, and felt wicked enough to indulge it, I would get his Sabbath-school superintendent, a female city missionary, and several " local visitors," with an agent of some Western college thrown in for variety, and set them all on to him !

" But how much does it cost to take such a trip ? " I hear some good deacon inquire ; '' perhaps we may feel disposed to take your advice."

WHAT IT COSTS. 25

Well, I will tell you; and I shall make a liberal estimate, for I do not think it hurts a minister to travel in comfortable style any more than it does Mr. Farewell and Brother Haveenough. And if he shall chance to find a ten-dollar greenback in his vest-pocket after he has reached home it will not come amiss, I warrant you.

I estimate the cost thus : —

Guide-hire, $ 2.50 per day ; board for self and guide while in the woods, $ 2.00 each per week ; miscellanies (here is where the ten-dollar greenbacks come in), $ 25.00.

If he feels disposed to take a companion, he can do so (many go in couples), and thereby divide the cost of guide-hire, making it only $ 1.25 per day. But I would not advise one to do this, especially if his expenses are paid. Fifty dollars will pay one's travelling expenses both ways, from Boston to the Lower Saranac Lake, where you can meet your guide. From New York the expense is about the same. It is safe to say that one hundred and twenty-five dollars will pay all the expenses of a trip of a month's duration in the wilderness. I know of no other excursion in which such a small sum of money will return such per cent in health, pleasure, and profit.

26 ADVENTURES IN THE WILDEENESS.

OUTFIT.

There is no one rule by wliicli to be governed in this respect. Personal tastes and means control one in this matter. Generally speaking, outfits are too elaborate and cumbersome. Some men go into the woods as if they were to pass the winter within the polar circle, supplied with fur caps, half a dozen pair of gloves, heavy overcoat, three or four thick blankets, and any amount of useless impedimenta. Dry-goods clerks and students seem to affect this style the most. I remember running against a pair of huge alligator -leather boots, leaning against a tree, one day when crossing the " Carry " from Forked Lake around the rapids, and upon examination discovered a young undergraduate of a college not a thousand miles from Boston inside of them. It was about the middle of "^ August, and the thermometer stood at 90° [Fahrenheit. Some half a mile farther on we met the guide sweating and swearing under a pack of blankets, rubber suits, and the like, heavy enough to frighten a tramping Jew-pedler ; and he declared that " that confounded Boston fool had brought in a hoat-loacl of clotlusl'' which we found to be nigh to the truth when we reached the end of the " carry," where the canoe was. JSTow I wish that every reader who may visit the Adirondacks, male or female, would remember that a good-

OUTFIT. 27

sized valise or carpet-bag will hold all the clothes any one person needs for a two months' trip in the wilderness, beyond what he wears in. Be sure to wear and take in nothing but woollen and flannel. The air at night is often quite cool, even in midsummer, and one must dress warmly. The following list comprises the '' essentials " : —

Complete undersuit of woollen or flannel, with a " change."

Stout pantaloons, vest, and coat.

Felt hat.

Two pairs of stockings.

Pair of common winter boots and camp shoes.

Eubber blanket or coat.

One pair pliable buckskin gloves, with chamois-skin gauntlets tied or buttoned at the elbow.

Hunting-knife, belt, and a pint tin cup.

To these are to be added a pair of warm woollen blankets, uncut, and a few articles of luxury, such as towel, soap, etc. The above is a good serviceable outfit, and, with the exception of the blankets, can readily be packed in a carpet-bag, which is easily stowed in the boat and carried over the " portages." In this connection, it should be remembered that the Adirondack boats, while being models of lightness and speed, are small, and will not bear overloading. On the average they are some fifteen feet long, three feet wide at the middle, sharp at both ends, some ten inches deep, and weigli from sixty to ninety pounds. Small and light as these boats are, they will sustain three men and all they really need in the way of baggage, but it is essential, as the reader can see, that no unnecessary freight be taken along by a party. Nothing is better calculated to make a guide cross and sour than an over-supply of personal baggage, and I advise all who attempt the trip to confine themselves very nearly to the above list. They will find that it is abundant.