Camping in the Alleghanies

Front matter

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

CAMPING IN THE ALLEGHANIES;

Chapter I. Bodines

A Description of our Camping-Grounds.

"'BoDiNEs! BoDiNEs!' What a queer name for a book! Where under the sun did you run across such a title as that?" methinks I hear you exclaim upon picking up this modest little volume and reading the gilt inscription that ornaments its face.

Well, I'll tell you; then perhaps you will not think it so strange, after all.

Just fifteen years ago my piscatorial friend prevailed upon me to " go a-fishing.'^ At that time I had never throv^n a fly nor caught a trout, — a circumstance that has been and ever will be a lasting regret. When, in my leisure moments, I chance to think how many of my days were passed without having been familiar with this delightful recreation, and howl sought sport and rest at the seaside resorts with com-

2 13 panions no wiser than myself, I can but deplore the fate that did not brino: me in contact with my good friend earlier in life. But the invitation finally came, and I at once acceded to the proposition, w^hen a-fishing we went, — to Ralston, in the State of Pennsylvania and on the I^orthern Central Railway, distant from Elmira just fifty-one miles, and then, as now, a famous resort for those skilled in the gentle art.

At this delightful spot I obtained my first glimpse of the Lycoming Creek, and captured my first trout in its crystal waters. As the circumstance is recalled, I well remember the delights of that day, — how Hamlin and I fished through the " Sugar Bottom" side by side, he stopping momentarily to teach me how to make a cast, to rescue mv leader from an overhano^ins; tree-top, or to cut a fly from some inaccessible region of my clothing; how he would raise a beauty at almost every cast, and land him too, while I would do just the reverse continually. I remember how vexed I became at havinu: the trout jump to my flies, while I was utterly unable to hook them, or, if I did, how they would be tossed into the highest tree-top, or sent spinning half-way up the mountain, through the vigorous jerk of my inexperienced arm.

"Don't jerk so hard; vou will certainlv take their heads ofl"!" was Hamlin's constant warning note ; but it required all the day to learn that it

BODINES.

was not the quick and strong strike that hooked the wa»j fish.

At noon we returned to Mr. Mver's hotel Hamlin with his creel full of trout, and mine^ well, never mind; would rather compare catches later on in the season. But one thing I remember both of us to have had in equal degree at least, and that was a splendid appetite. And right here let me declare that Mrs. Myer did satisfy that craving for a trout-dinner perfectly. It was many years ago : since then I have eaten trout at various and sundry places ; but yearly have I found myself returning to Mrs. Myer's table to enjoy the trout that she knows so well how to prepare.

Many were the days that -my friend and I passed upon the creek in this neighborhood before I became proficient as a fisherman; but when that time did come I believe I lacked not enthusiasm for the sport, whatever may have been my shortcomings in skill at castino; the flv. In the numerous excursions made in followinoyears with those two famous fly-fishermen, Hamlin and Sanders, they never succeeded in enticing me farther than Astemdlle, a little deserted mining-village two miles below Ealston. A trip through the " Sugar Bottom" and the deep pool back of Astenville always filled my creel, when I would wade ashore and foot it up the railroad to Ralston, leaving my two friends to fish on down as far as the '' Slope Wall,'-' which mystic spot seemed to he the one bright Mecca in travelling toward which their feet would never tire. Bat enough was quite a plenty for me, and, notwithstanding their frequent solicitations, their gl owning accounts of the stream, of the scenery, flowers, rocks, and ferns they encountered upon the route, I could not be inveigled from my iavorite haunts about Ralston. Finally, one day, more to satisfy my friends than to gratify any curiosity or anticipation of pleasure upon my part, I skipped the Sugar Bottom and waded on down the stream with them to the famous Slope Wall. The creek w^as open, wide, and free from overhanging trees or bushes, — which so much interfere with fly-casting ; — the banks were sloping, grassy and bountifully studded with wild-flowers, while the forests on either hand were ahve with merry singingbirds.

Many delightful pools aflbrded us abundance of sport upon our way, and numerous wxre the fine fish taken at the mouth of Pleasant Stream, three miles below, and at " Powell's Pond," a little farther on. After leaving Powell's the creek turns abruptly to the left, into a narrow channel, through which the water tumbles swiftly down, forming quite a cascade, that soon becomes lost in a shady, placid pool nearly half a mile in length. Going ashore, — it being too deep to wade, — we took the right bank and jogged on down until we arrived at another rapid, that carried the water directly against a stone wall that seemed to be about nine feet high and perhaps eight hundred long, built as a protection to the railway running along its top. The strong wall received the water and turned it to the right, sending it along its entire length, a bubbling, swirling, foaming mass. From between the huge stones of which the wall was built all manner of ferns, grasses, and mosses grew, with here and there a more pretentious bush, its green boughs drooping gracefully into the seething water below. Across the railway an immense mountain lifted its hoary head, whose sides were covered with stubs of massive hemlocks that were noble trees before the fire passed through, leaving desolation in its path. Considerable time had elapsed since the conflagration, so that where all had been dark and gloomy, 'Nature now wrought brightness and beauty. Young underbrush springing up covered the blackened surface with a green carpet that contrasted finely with the dead trunks that rose majestically from among them. To our right could be seen, through the straggling limbs of some grand old buttonwoods, a cultivated field, in which a number of native boys and girls, who seemed to be merry with their work, Avere planting corn. Beyond was a high mountain, covered with balsams, hemlocks, spruces, pines, beeches and maples, whose varying foliage was arrayed right

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18 BOD I NFS.

royally in the morning sunlight. In front of us the stream went dancing on until deflected against a high bank, in which the kingfishers had consfructed their habitations, the owners thereof chattering, from the stubby limbs of a dead tree, their displeasure at our visitation ; and here was the Slope Wall,- with all its delightful surroundings. Over this rapid we cast our flies, and a right merry time we had in landing one another's fish. The deep pool above, the water in front of the wall itself, and the ripple by the high bank have afforded us capital sport from that day to this. A mile below this point the creek again turned to the right, forming another delightful cascade that dashed against some huo:e moss-covered rocks that as^es as^o lost their balance and slid from the steep mountain-top above to ihe stream below. To the right was a long deep bayou, into which flowed a branch of the creek that had taken a short cut and followed the foot of the mountain, so forming an island that extended to a point just where the two streams met. Upon this narrow high point of ground were growing two splendid pines, and a little farther up the slope, on still higher ground, two immense beeches and an elm, the great, long, crooked limbs of the first two reaching to the water's edge on either side, while the elm threw its gracefully-drooping branches between, casting a shadow so dense that we could not resist tlie silent invitation to come ashore and rest.

"What a delightful place to lunch!" Hamlin said.

" Capital !" Sanders replied ; then, examining his watch, hanging his creel upon a limb, and leaning his rod against the trunk o:^a tree, added, " It's about noon ; let us have our luncheon here : this is the coolest spot I've found to-daj."

So, we spread our eatables upon the bright green grass, under the beech, and laid ourselves out in comfortable but grotesque positions about them.

Just before us, looking toward the point of the island and between the trunks of the two pines, was a long, deep, and quiet pool. The right bank was formed by an almost perpendicular mountain, densely covered with hemlock, spruce, pine, and tulip-trees, under the green branches of which were seen laurels, rhododendrons, and ferns in one interminable iun2:le. Overhano^ino: the pond were hemlock boughs, the ends tipped witb bright new shoots thaf contrasted effectively with the darker branches beyond. Upon the water, not a ripple disturbing its glassy surface, reflections of the trees and mossy rocks, as well as of the old mill and railroad bridge, which crossed the stream farther down, produced a most charming: effect* Farther to our left were other mountains, cleft to allow the passage of a

20 BODIXES.

smaller stream to swell the waters of our quiet pond.

Immediatelv across tlie creek and to our left, among a clump of willows, loomed up, high into the air, an old stub, limbless, weather-beaten, and densely covered with a clematis-vine that shot out its curling tendrils in every direction to the very peak. From the spot where we were reclining, it was sharply defined against the clear blue sky that was opened to view from the cleft in the mountain, giving us a picture that required no Claude Lorraine mirror to intensify.

Our dinner despatched, we lighted our cigars, seated ourselves upon the grassy knoll under the great beech, and ^ook in the lovely surroundings.

Sanders (always in search of a cool spring from which to slake his thirst) wandered up the bayou a short distance, when we soon heard him exclaim, from somewhere among the tangle of willows which covered the bank : —

'• I've found a spring; come have a drink!*'

^e rose, followed the direction of his voice, and soon came to a delightfully cool spring, bubblino^ from amons^ the roots of an old leanino^ beech that stood by the edge of the water. TTe all stooped down upon our hands and knees, and partook freely of its inviting waters ; then, standing erect and gazing about upon the beauty of the scene, exclaimed, almost in chorus : —

" Oh, what a place to camp I''

BODIXES. 21

Returninor to the errand old beech, we seated ourselves asrain until our ciorars were finished, then waded across the creek and throusrh the willows, to find ourselves in a meadow through which was meandering a clear and crystal hrook : and there, in the centre of a sloping grassy plat, with the railway and quaint old cabin that served for a depot in front, the sombre mountain, that had lost its bright hues in the evenino: shadows, for a background, and at the foot of which lay the quiet pond : below, the roaring dam, near which tottered the old saw-mill, that seemed uncertain which way to fall, — there, in a little grove of cherry, apple, and locust trees, stood an old-fashioned dwelling, that spoke to us plainly, by its weather-beaten sides and moss-covered roof, of the davs of lonsr as^o.

The cliimney was of heroic size, built of stone, half in-doors and half out, while great rents exhibited themselves in its broad top, which appeared above the ancient roof. At the gable-end, on one side of the chimney, a small window peeped out. with diminutive lights of glass, half concealed by a woodbine that clambered over its face to the roof above. To the front a little porch projected a few feet beyond the battened door, and over it climbed a wild rose, that shut in and adorned its sides. To the right of this porch was another small window, like its mate on the end, above each still more contracted ones, that lighted the second story. Roses, hollyhocks, and peonies dotted the green lawn here and there, and among them stood a tall wooden pump with a long, curled, iron handle, that terminated in a large, many-angled ball. In the trough that conducted the surplus water into the grass was lying a venerable and toothless dog, who cast his bleareyes toward us and made an eiFort at barking, failing in which, dropped his head and lazily lapped his drink. Entering upon the lawn by the garden gate, I inquired of my companions, who now came within speaking distance, —

'' Whose house is this ?"

" Bodine's !" was the prompt response, as all three drcAV near its entrance.

Upon a short bench nailed between one of the posts of the porch and the side of the house, w^e espied reclining a tall, elderly, smooth-faced man, with his coat and hat oif, quietly smoking his pipe. As we approached, he rose, with a merry twinkle in his gray eye, and extended his great bronzed hand to my companions, bidding them welcome. After their salutations they turned to me, when Sanders, with a flourish of his hand toward the man, simply said, —

"Squire Bodine, doctor;" at which he gave me his hand also, and the memory of that grasp causes me to squirm even now.

" Walk in, gentlemen, glad to see you all. Good day's fishing, I hope ?"

The last remark with a rising inflection, to indicate the interrogative.

We severally assured him of fine success, and then, v^hile my eye rested upon the mill-pond and the foam rising from the dam below, I remarked, —

" You catch fine trout there, doubtless V

" Yes, sir ; in the evening, or early in the morning, we have splendid fishing, both above and below the dam. I have taken many a two-pounder on a black gnat just in the edge of the evening," the squire replied; and then immediately added, " We had lively times here with big trout when I first moved to these parts."

" How long ago was that?"

" Just forty years, — long before we had any railroad; the stage used to run along that mountain road yonder, across the pond" (rising, and pointing out its direction). " It made regular trips then between Williamsport and Elmira, and people would sometimes stop here to eat a meal of trout. Why, I could run down below the dam there, any time, and catch fifty trout — nice ones, too — in about half an hour's time."

After much pleasant conversation with the squire, from which we learned that he was at once justice of the peace, postmaster, stationagent, and school-commissioner, supper was annouiiced, when we entered the cosy old liouse and partook of a hearty meal prepared by his srood wife and daua'hter Kate.

All this fifteen years ago I Many changes have occurred in and about '* Bodines"' since then. The old house has given place to a new one. A new station and store-house has been erected opposite the mansion, in which Harry G-reen keeps a neat little store that has become a 2:reat convenience not onlv to fishermen, but to the farmino' and lumberino- communitv round

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about. The steam whistle on Robert Lmes's large tannery now echoes from hill to hill and reminds us that the old valley has taken upon herself new enterprises. Several comfortable dwellino:-houses are dottino; the o-reen sward in front of the squire's premises, gi^^ng the place quite the air of a little village. The creek has cut new channels for itself throuo-h the meadow. The hio-h bank — the abode of our kino^fisher friends — has been washed away, until the creek is ready to break through into its old channel, now occupied by the bayou next the mountain, " Slack's Run," that comes murmuring down through the cleft in the mountains, empties itself into the pond lower down, and has changed its name to "Bloody Run,'" by reason of two murders that have been committed upon its wild banks, since the peaceful days of yore. The old Slope Wall is greener and more lovely, while its

BODIXES. 25

swirls and pools still afford the skilful angler abundance of sport.

The picturesque point where we first stopped to lunch has become more beautiful, bv reason of the improvements originating there during every June that finds us promptly upon its cherished banks. The bayou is larger, deeper, and filled with monstrous suckers, that go solemnly nosing about upon its pebbly bottom. The pond, with its rocks and overhanging trees, is grander. The stream, with its rapids near at hand, wider and more musical. The ^villows across the way, taller, shutting in our delightful little retreat from the observation of passers-by. The old stub with its beautiful vine, alas I has fallen, but thie vine itself has been trained to another tree, while graceful ferns are growing from the mouldering ruins of the fallen monarch. The stately beech has a mound about its trunk, covered with maiden-hair ferns, violets, and exquisite mosses. A pathway leads down from between it and a fine elm, to its left, either side of which is flanked with a row of immense ferns and Solomon-seals. Docks are built upon the bayou side, in the shade of the mountain where we laud the boats in our excursions to and from the farm-house. The two pines on the extreme end of the point are more stately, and lean gracefully to either side, giving a better view of the pond. Indeed, our island has become a little paradise, in which I have

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26 noDiNEs.

written what follows ; while wife and friend.-: have spent many happy days in its cool shade and peaceful quietness. My children have played and romped among its wild-flowers, and bathed in its refreshing waters, renewed health and vigor keeping pace with their happy play. Piscatorial friends, who figure so largely in these pages, have kept me company here, and joined, most heartily, in making our camp-life a time of perfect enjoyment and rest. In this immediate neighborhood have transpired most of the scenes which are herein portrayed. Under the branches of its lovely trees, surrounded with flowers, birds, and the melody of its rippling waters, have I spent many enchanting hours. What better name, therefore, can I give my sketches, dear reader, than the one nearest my heart, charming, lovely, dear old

" BODINES" ?

CHAPTEK 11.

THE PREPARATION.

How to make your Tents and other Camp-Fixtures— Supplies.

Our camp-ground could not be more conveniently located. We are high enough to escape any inundation from a sudden rise in the stream; a spring near at hand, and a large body of drift-wood lodged within easy reach. Good water and plenty of firewood are two essentials for comfortable camp-life. The farm-house chimney is visible from our abode, whither we can paddle our canoe and secure fresh milk, eggs, butter, bread, or almost any article of food required.

Such a location is indispensable, if you mean to take wife and children with you. But if gentlemen alone go, then it is not so important; for one can live in the woods upon bacon, coiFee, and biscuit, provided the fishing is good enough to warrant such a deprivation. But, as for me, I must confess to a liking for good, nutritious food, a comfortable bed, and pleasant surroundings, even if I do not capture quite so many fish. My friend Rev. Thomas K. Beecher, who has spent some time with me in camp, and who is a skilful lly-caster and a line shot with the rifle, says I do not " rough it" enough, that my bill of fare is too good, my equipments too numerous, and my grounds too near civilization, to make the change from home-life sufficiently marked.

Therein we differ. I cannot eat bacon, — I don't like it. I can't lie on the damp ground, — it gives me rheumatism. I don't want to go into the wilderness, where a letter or a telegram cannot reach me in a month, — I.have a wife and children, and must know that they are well.. I must not go far from home, to be gone two or three months, — my business engagements will not permit it, neither can I afford the expense. I must have good food, a comfortable bed, and dry quarters, because I am a dyspeptic !

N^ow, there exist thousands of men, precisely in my predicament, who will be glad to know how I overcome all the objections enumerated. For such, more particularly, are these pages written. So much, then, by way of introduction to what follows.

The first thing, naturally, to be sought for is a good tent. I have tried a variety of kinds and sizes, and give my preference to a large and roomy one to sleep in. An ordinary wall-tent, eight by nine feet, is too contracted in which to live for a month. Of course, it can be done, but a larger one is much more preferable and not very expensive, I use a tent twelve by eighteen feet, fiYQ

THE PREPARATION.

feet high at the eaves, and nine feet to the ridge-pole. Sach a one gives room upon one side for two large beds (holding four persons), and a writing and reading table on the other side, with plenty of space for sitting and lounging pur^DOses. Do not buy your tents : the manufacturers ask far too much for them ; make them yourself. I will tell you how. Mark out a diagram on your barn floor like this.

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A y

DIAGRAM OP TENT.

"0 • and I will show you how to construct a tent, twelve by eighteen feet, that shall be water-tight and cost you less than thirteen dollars.

From the diagram, it will be seen that you will require six strips of yard wide " duck," twice seven feet and six inches long (or fifteen feet), making in all thirty yards. These must be sewed in a double seam, overlapping each breadth one

inch. Make a hem one inch wide upon the two

3* ends that form the eaves. Throusrh this run a rope the size of an ordinary bed-cord ; at every breadth work an eyelet to receive the cords that hold the tent to the pegs. The cord running through the hem prevents the material from tearing. The price of the duck should not be more than sixteen cents per yard, making the roof to the tent cost four dollars and eighty cents. You will now require for the two ends twenty-one and one-third yards of heavy unbleached muslin, worth eight cents a yard, costing one dollar and seventy-one cents. Cut this into four strips seven feet long, and four more nine feet in length. Lay the two long ones in the centre, and the two short ones on each side of them, over your diagram on the floor, and cut off the corners so as to have them fit into the gable of the roof. Sew them together, except in the centre, where they may be joined for about four feet from the peak, and there '' stayed" well with an extra piece of cloth, to prevent ripping or tearing. This opening in the centre pieces forms the entrance to the tent, and may be made still more secure by sewing an extra piece of muslin, fiYO, feet long, over this slit, fostening it only at the top. (This is optional.) This done, one end of your tent is now formed. Serve the remaining four pieces in like manner for the opposite end, then sew them to the roof.

You will next need twelve strips of the same material, five feet long, for the sides. Sew six of them together for each side, overlapping the seams one inch, as in the top, and when done, hem it one inch wide at the bottom. Pass a rope through this hem, and work eyelets at every seam. Sew the sides thus formed to the top, so as to allow it to project three inches, as seen at A in our diagram.

This requires twenty yards of goods, costing one dollar and sixty cents. N'ow sew your corners together, and work large button-holes upon one of the centre end pieces, from^the ground to the eaves ; on the opposite one sew large wooden buttons, so that the ends can be buttoned together in case of a storm. Next, you will need a fly. For this you will require six pieces of muslin eighteen feet long, which, when sewed together and hemmed in the same manner as the top, with rope and eyelets in same localities, will form a shelter over the entire tent, projecting fifteen inches beyond, to carry the water free from the sides. This fly should not touch the tent's roof by a foot, except where it rests upon the ridge-pole; it catches the first shock of the rain, and prevents its falling through the real roof in a fine spray. It also keeps your tent cooler when the sun falls upon it. For this, tliirty-six yards of muslin are necessary, costing two dollars and eighty-eight cents.

You now have

77^ yards of muslin @ 8c. . . . 6.19

Necessary rope, say . . . . 2.00

$12.99 your tent complete thus costing you less than thirteen dollars, not estimating your labor at anything. Indeed, so much pleasure will be found in constructing yonr own tent that thirteen dollars should be credited to it for the fun you have had. In that case, it has cost nothing, but, upon the contrary, you are at least one cent ahead on the transaction. I must further add that all these seams can be sewed upon a sewing-machine, with Clark's ITo. 40 spool cotton. The seams being double, are sufficiently strong to resist any strain to which they may be subjected.

When searching for a tent of this capacity, we w^ere asked eighty dollars for it by a manufacturer, and of no better material than the one we made ourselves. Seven cords, ten feet long, will be required, with one end tied in the eyelet made at every seam along the eaves. Marline or tarred rope, about a foot long, must be tied in the eyelets at the bottom of the tent, to hold it to pegs which will be driven in the ground to hold the sides perpendicular. Your fly will also need four ropes on each side, about fifteen feet long.

l!Tow, make a strong brine, using all the salt the water will dissolve, and plunge your tent and fly into the pickle, where it may remain two or three days. At the end of that time remove it, and spread it on a line to dry. Then go over it with a very thin whitewash, made from fresh lime, putting the solution on with a whitewashhrush. When dry, your tent is ready for use, — will never mildew or rot, and will be ready for service during your natural life. When you take it to the woods, a ridge-pole eighteen feet long can be cut, together with two upright poles nine feet high, with a fork upon the small ends to receive and hold it in place. The pins and stakes are to be had in the woods in like manner, so saving trouble of transportation. Three persons can pitch such a tent in twenty minutes, or less. Place the ridge-pole under the centre of the roof so that each end of it rests in the peak in a crotch of a pole. Then one person at each end can do the raising, holding the pole in place, while the third drive.s the pins and fastens the ropes. But it seems superfluous to teach any one how to pitch a tent. I will guarantee you will be able to do it in some shape, so go ahead and tr}' . ■'

If you need a tent for your servant, sew three pieces of dacking together, fifteen feet long. Hem and work eyelets across the ends. Mark out your diagram on the floor as for the large tent, only making this one in shape of the letter A. Estimating your ridge-pole to be six and a lialf feet high, and the sides of your tent reaching the ground, you will require two strips for each end six and a half feet long, with corners cut to fit the gables. These, when sewed in the ends, and left open in the middle, at one end of the tent, will give you an A tent six by nine feet on the ground, and costing less than three dollars and fifty cents.

As it is certain to rain more in the woods than when you are at home,_you would better prepare another '' fly," made of striped awning-cloth, of about the size of the fly to your tent, and made in the same manner. This will serve you as a dining-room, when stretched over a ridge-pole, supported by two forked poles planted in the ground to hold them firmly. These poles should be ten feet high, and the eaves of your roof should be at least fiYQ feet from the ground. Your table (made of drift-wood, always to be found on a stream, or of branches of trees of about an inch in diameter, laid close together, and nailed upon suitable cleats, supported by four legs driven into the ground) should be placed in the centre of this canopy. If you do not take camp-stools, make them, by boring four holes in pieces of slabs, or blocks of wood that are always at hand on all habitable streams of this day, and drive legs into them. For this and other camp purposes you will need a saw, one and a half inch auger, hatchet, a four-pound axe, and a quantity of nails. Witli tliesc iniplenients you can construct a home and furnish it comfortably, and even elegantly, in two or three days, and enjoy every moment of the time you are so employed.