A TWO HUNDRED MILE TOUR THROUGH THE MAINE FORESTS. BY Thomas Sedgwick Steele . Longfellow. WITH SIXTY ILLUSTRATIONS , BOSTON: ESTES AND LAURIAT, PUBLISHERS. Copyright, 1882 , By Thomas Sedgwick Steele . University Press: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. To my enthusiastic friends of the gun and rod, who love all that is pure and beautiful in nature, and by associating with her works, learn of man’s littleness in comparison with God’s immensity, this book is affectionately dedicated . Thomas Sedgw

love for the woods and out-door sports begins early in life. I can hardly remember when the sight of a gun or fish-rod did not awaken within my boyish fancy a feverish desire to follow their lead, be the tramp ever so hard. There never was anything to stop the growth of this passion until I reached the age of ten years, when I nearly destroyed a boy’s eye with an arrow, in my endeavors to excel in archery. This act slightly dampened my ardor for some months, and retarded that progression in fiel

In the good old times, when the requirements of business kept one out in the open air, and each client or patient resided many miles away, and the only communication was by foot or on horseback, one did not need the indispensable rest and recreation of to-day. But now all is changed, and within a hand’s grasp at our offices we can communicate by the strange wires of the telephone or telegraph with friends miles away, and save ourselves those steps which would no doubt be of great benefit if take

On leaving Moosehead Lake, the seeker for health or recreation in Maine, who desires to study nature in its primeval state, and drink from her fountains the blessings which she can so bountifully bestow, has three routes of travel before him. These routes are known as the St. John’s River, the West Branch of the Penobscot, and the East Branch of the Penobscot trips, and have for their point of departure the Kineo House, Moosehead Lake, where all that is necessary in camp supplies can always be o

description of our first camp in the woods will acquaint the reader with the arrangement of the many after, and make him familiar with the picture of our daily surroundings. Our wall tent, ten by twelve feet, was soon unfolded, and, selecting a prominent point of the high bank which commanded the river, we immediately set about cutting the three necessary poles on which to erect it. We trimmed all projecting twigs from the ridge and front upright poles, but left them on the rear one that we migh

hamberlin farm consists of one log house, eight or ten barns, and about three hundred acres of cleared land, if where in some portions you can jump from stump to stump can be called “cleared land.” CHAMBERLIN FARM AND LAKE—LOOKING WEST. The buildings are situated on a hill fronting the lake, and command a view of the greater part of the water. Mr. Nutting (who with his three sons has charge of the farm) is six feet high, straight as an Indian, with heavy high cheek bones, black moustache, and wh

T 5.30 A. M. , August 20th, our camp was alive with preparations for the long anticipated run down Webster River, ten miles, to the East Branch of the Penobscot and, as it afterwards proved, was the most exciting day’s experience of the two hundred mile tour. Blankets, overcoats, and tent were rolled closer than usual, and leather thongs five feet in length, (some three dozen of which I had brought with me,) were tied about them, and safely crowded into the bottom of the long rubber bags. Covers

I often thought how easily one could stray from camp, and, if without a compass, be lost in this wilderness. While hunting on Lake Superior one autumn, some years since, I endured such an experience, and the bitterness of it has always remained fresh in my memory. While passing over the corduroy road of thirteen and a half miles which lies between the town of Ontonagon, Mich., and the Minnesota copper mines, my attention was allured from the road by the melodious whir-r-r-r, whir-r-r-r of a brac