The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1894-08-06
UP THE ROYAL RIVER.
The Adventures OF Two Canoes Be-
tween Yarmouth and Gray.

A Charming Excursion For Paddlers-
Don't Take The Right Branch-A Hot
Night In a Barn-How 1t Feels To Be
Taken For Tramps.
On recent morning, one of the hot
test of the last days of July. the Z
O'Clock train from Portland stopped on
the bridge over the Royal River, near
Yarmouth Junction. 1t was an instance
of she usual kindness of the Maine Cen
trail management. The train stopped
for the especial purpose of allowing four
canoeists TO get their two canoes out of
the baggage car at that point.
1t was all accomplished in half minute
and the canoes were soon launched.
1t would have been a long carry of
a quarter of mile back from the Var
mouth station had the train not stopped
for them.
The Royal river leads the way into no
forest retreats or wilderness tangles. 1t
is much inferior to the Presumpscot in
that respect. But it has it's own pecu-
liar charm. 1t winds past hillside farms
through fertile meadows, and for miles
and miles the high banks are piled high
or with blossoming hedges, as if the river
were a roadway through some well kept
park. for
Flowering vines wind in and out
And festooR garlauds all about
Around this quiet stream.
at least that is the verdict of the COM
bined poetical cogitation OF the entire
party. The wild grape and the wood
bine are everywhere They Chamber in
luxuriant masses over the bushes, which
they bind together and hold in symmet.
rical outlines, and which they conceal
with thickly woven mantle of beauty
and fragrance.
There is another vine of delicate tiny
tendrils and dainty little blossoms,
white in color. 1t spreads itself in
patches like web OF lace over the grape
and wood bine, over tue ferns and grass
es. 1t isxa charming thing to look at.
but it loses it's charm ifyou bring your
bare sun-scorched arms in contact with
it. This is certainly true of one of the
canoeists. The little vine is nettIe,
and it is no longer beautiful to him.
His arms are still sore with the wounds
of its microscopic poisoned stings.
But the canoes are gliding rapidly UP
the river, and we must follow if we are
to witness their adventures. 1t is aston
lshlng how rapidly canoe progresses
on such quiet tream. You stop for a
couple of minutes to drink from a river
side rivulet, and the other canoe disap-
pears around the curve When you round
the curve there is a stretch of 200 yards,
but no canoe. You paddle harder They
must be in sight around the next curve.
But there is even a longer stretch. and
no canoe. They have been hurrying,
while out of sight, to get long lead.
You are not going to hurry this hot day;
but you paddle harder just the same.
Your canoe seems to creep, as if water
logged. though really it is gaining on
the other. Perhaps after the third turn
there is tine other canoe just disappear
ing in the distance. 1t goes out of sight
like fash, but they are padding leis
urely. Truly stern chase is long one
or does it only seem SO.
They reach Dunn's Crossings in East
North Yarmouth long before noon, and
just beyond, the river forks. Both
streams look small, but they take the
right because it looks largest and is ap-
parently the main river. 1t gets smaller
oAes ioPfoiJ. Dy AOOu bu0E6
is not enough water for the proposed
swim before dinner. There is hardly
enough to cool the watermelon. A
long trip to farm house is necessary for
water fit to drink, or make into coffee.
But the dinner is all right. 1t is a re
past of many courses, though the serving
is not in accordance with the rules Of
the table d'hote. Two hours are none too
long a incoming on this scorching day.
They keep on In the afternoon. The
river is only brook. that winds three
miles for every one of progress 1t is
choked with stumps and logs and shall
low rapids. and there Is as much wading
as padding for thescanoeists.. At last
the river forks again, and neither stream
is inviting; One canoe struggles along
up the right stream. The two men in
the other 60 ashore to reconnoiter. Be-
yond the great hay field is the highway
and bridge. One man, he of the nettle
stung arms, follows the river up to the
bridge. Above, the water is deeper, and
small boy declares that it is like that
for two and a half miles to Pownal Cen
tire. He doesn't know how far New
Gloucester is, but he is sure this brook