The Portland daily press., 1879-02-15
Written for the Pressl
A Tramp in Spite of Him.
self.
Written for the Press

that several of my classmates planned to spend
a portion of one of their long vacations in the
backwoods of Maine. My own love of ad-
venture and inordinate passion for hunting
and fishing speedily induced me to join the
party. Many of my friends had visited the
wllds of Maine and had brought back almost
fabulous stories of the abundance of game
there. and OF the size of the front to be
captured in the lakes and streams. In
huenced by their reports, had long desired
to visit that wonderful country, but
never had occasion offered until the pro-
Jected expedition of the students; 10 that I
Joined myself without delay or hesitation.
The first week Of September found us, five
in number, duly equipped with guns and
fishing-tackle, encamped upon the shores of
one of the widest and most beautiful ponds
of the Pine Tree State. We had been In
duced to select the pond in question because
1t was remote from settlements and was not
likely to be visited by tourists and sports
sAo,,ss Se,ssired 10 enjoy our sport with
out annoyance or interruption, and, so well
did We succeed, that, during our en-
tire sojourn of eight days, we did not meet
single human being outside of onr own
party.
We spent delightful season. The weather
was perfect, and we hunted and fished to our
hearts content. confess that large game
was scarce; we did not even catch sight of
a bear or moose, although several of the
party declared that they had heard them at
distance; but we enjoyed ourselves well for all
that. To vivid imaginations like ours, it was
not very difficult feat to magnify hedgehog
into bear or rabbit into bobcat. "Mak-
ing believe" is sometimes quite as satisfactory
to men as tochildren. I have noticed that
stories Of hunting adventures and Of fishing
exploits grow like weeds a little time adds
marvellously to their size. By the time of
our return to college we were sure of toler-
ably fair crop of hair-breadth escapes and
thrilling adventures with which to excite the
envy of our fellow students.
But our experience of camp-life, although
full of adventures and sport, was not peculiar
to US. Many people enjoy it every year and
thousands more will doubtless in time take
delight In it in years to come. It is not to
be expected. therefore, that narrative Of
our camp life can add much to either the
knowledge or entertainment of the public:
but my own subsequent experience was GER
tainly unique, and the story of it may be
amusing and entertaining to the readers,
although it was anything but pleasant and
entertaining to me at the time.
The last day of our stay at the camp was a
glorious one, sunsh;ny and tranquil, yet brac-
ing and exhilarating, Summer and
June combined. For an hour before sun
set we sat in front of our camp, watching the
setting sun illuminate with indescribable
glory, the shining surface of the placid pond.
Far down in the depths the shaggy spruces
that lined its shores, were perfectly reflected
and, below them all, stretching into the fore
ground depths of the inverted sky, were the
gold tipped mountains in the West. 1t was
scene of rare beauty.
As I lay upon my led of spruce boughs
that night, the glorious vision kept return
ing to me. was weary, yet it haunted me
until sleep fed from my eyes. All the varied
incidents of one week in the woods came to
my mind and felt unwilling to leave them
SO soon. My companions would doubtless
insist upon returning home in the morning,
according to our prearranged plan, but de-
termined not to return with them. What
should do then? My courage was hardly
equal to the idea of remaining there, so far
from human beings, alone. That was not to
be thought Of; yet my heart was set upon a
longer stay in the woods. How should it be
brought about? A thought struck me. We
had planned to return home by sailing down
the pond to its outlet, distance of perhaps
ten miles; at that point team would be in
waiting to take us by rough, though pas
sable road to the nearest point upon the stage
rout. My determination was, not 10 return
with my friends by this route, but to walk
through the woods to the nearest settlement,
"a distance of about thirty-five miles in a
direct line. This would give me, at least,
two days more of forest life. With this de-
termination I fell asleep, not to awake until
the sun was shining brightly through the
chinks of our camp.
While We were dispatching our breakfast
of fried trout, hard bread and coffee, I un-
folded to my companions my plan of return
ing through the woods. At first they made
light of my scheme, but when they found that
was in earnest, anxiety took the place of
mirth and they began to earnestly entreat
me to return with them. They represented
the dangers to be met, the annoyances and
difficulties that would surround my path,
the fatigue of walking so long distance
through the forest; but in vain. Then our
guide tried his hand at dissuading me from
my attempt by narrating several very doleful
tales of travellers who had lost their way in
the woods and had persisted of hunger and
exhaustion, tales which were doubtless all
true and very much to the point, but which
failed to frighten me from my purpose.
I assisted the party in packing their bag
gage in the boat, sending also, the greater
part Of my own by the same conveyance, so
that might not be encountered while tramp
ing through the forest. When all was ready,
my friends entered the boat and reluctantly
sailed away down the pond. I watched
them until they were lost to sight behind a
distant point. Then a sense of utter
loneliness came upon me. A solitary loon
went sailing slowly by and, his wild cry
reverberated from shore to shore, it seemed
to me the most dismal sound I had ever
heard in my life. For moment my heart
failed me as thought of the lonesome tramp
through the wilderness, but the feeling soon
wore away.
My first step was to make a careful and
critical examination Of my personal effects.
For better understanding of my subsequent
story, I give the list entire: haversack
well filled with excellent pilot bread, a can
teen full of cold coffee, revolver, my only
weapon of offence and defence. My pockets
contained in addition: box of matches,
fishing tackle, strong, though well-worn
pocket-knife, small compass. My wallet,
about carried in an inner vest pocket, con-
tanned twenty dollars in money-a sum sufic-
lent, in my estimation, to nav all expenses nm