Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1898-12-21

Ahey weren't good, but
was LOO hungry to nind that. When
nau thoroughly masticated the Whole
'Hess set out on my travels once moro
anu was soon on the shores of Dea 4
isiVer-one of the prettiest streams If
mas peen my lot to encounter i'm MANY
Thousand miles of travel. Legends
again. Every man, woman and child
III Dead River Township has a differ
eiH' urea OF the place where Arnold
buried MS treasure! And that when
the poor man had only $1,000 with
which to equip his whole army. But
they had other stories, too. Stories of
how Arnold wintered at Flagstaff. and
Oh now their village staff stands on the
exact spot on Which he erected one. !
soon got used to these tales, however.
ana learned to make allowances / de-
clded that night to sleep in a hotel. and
avoid sheep and midges. But alas for
human foresight. l fled from Scylla to
oharybdls, and all that night heard
the voiceless song of the wingless
pird abroad in the land A postponed
morning came at last, however. and I
set out once more for Quebec.
Eustls was my next stop. Quiet, hot.
measay Eustis. A check awaited me at
the postoffice there and l set out to get
1t cashed. For some reason then in
applicable to me, everyone looked on
me as an accomplished villain, and re-
FUSED to cash up, until an old lumber
man look pity on me and exchanged
piiis for my piece of paper. SO after
four hours of delay | left the road at
Eustls and took the trail to the north,
through the woods. / have since
learned from Game Warden Tufts that
a New York detective had passed
through Eustis an hour ahead of me.
and the people there making sure l
was the desired man, had sent to
Stratton for a constable. 1t must have
seemed to him inconsiderate of me to
leave Eustis Is minutes before he ar
rived, but if he ever sees this he will
know only did it through ignorance.
| slept that night again in a house.
at the upper farm beside Bog pond.
Chain of Ponds. The scenery around
these ponds is of matchless grandeur,
extremely mountainous and heavily
wooded. Next day l was set up the
ponds by Mr.. Mills, and took the
club house trail'' for the north. This
trail is cut path through THE woods
from the ponds to the club house on
Spider lake, and is billy and rocky in
the extreme. My objective point was
CROSBY point, but l took the wrong
Branch trait and fetched up in Hath
ans bog, where | wandered for five
hours, tearing my clothes and scratch
ing aud bruising my flesh until l dis
paired of getting through that way.
So l turned down stream, straddled a
log, and padded to the place where l
had left the trail. On that l soon
reached the clubhouse, ragged, muddy,
unshaven, unkempt, a verikab BILE wild
man in appearance. But Juds Viles re-
ceived me delightfully."- as guest If
the Megantic Fishing and Game Club,
and l passed a pleasant evening, mas
queradng in a borrowed suit of clothes
while mine were dried and mended.
Some fine trout were brought in while
/ was there. one weighing three pounds
and another exactly half that. My
sleep was apparently never to be I'M
troubled. This time it was the cold
that bothered me, for the Thermometer
marked As degrees Fahrenheit at in
the morning.
From the clubhouse l went by steam
er II miles through Spider and Me-
gantlc lakes to Megantic station at the
north end of the late. Leaving there
at noon 1 struck off down the Chan
diere river, and plunged headlong into
new sea of trouble. This time it was
language. No one down there speaks
Il, nrs6 1fc.i,l o. oh
there are SO many dialects that the
natives only understand each other by
means of gestures. l soon picked up
enough of the 'brogue," however. to be
able to converse fairly with the people,
and in consequence had a pleasant
evening. Fer / stumbled on a French
dance, and saw the game clear
through. The dance was funny. Along
one side of a long room sat a row of
men, all with their hats on, smoking.
chewing, and splitting on the floor
Opposite them sat row of buxom
French women. each with from one to
four children in her arms. A fiddler ats
one end kept up an incessant jigging
on a fiddle. Every few minutes three
or four women would lend their chill
dren to a neighbor, and range them
selves along the floor. An equal num-
Der of men would join them, and then
they would dance a travesty on the
quadIille. And such quadrille: It
would have killed a dancing master.
Jig steps. collisions, utter disorder. in
fact, any Old thing was in order. This
was kept up until l in the morning,
with occasional rests during which tall
Tom Campaud or English" George
Morrill, danced jig. ] was glad
enough when it was all over, and
was once more on the march. I
walked 10 miles more that night, slept
an hour, and by noon next day was at
ST. Francis de Beauce. where i was to
take the railroad At this thriving,
ugly. sundried. sleepy town l was
stared at, commented on and cursed
by every able bodied inhabitant. and
glad enough was l to get out of town
next day. | stopped that night at
Beauce Junction, where l had a quar-
rel with the French landlord over bill
| had already paid. He took club 20
me and l drew a knife. which fright
ened him off I then went to Quebec,
while he procured warrant for my
arrest, and awaited my return. l had
a Jolly time at Quebec, where genial
Irish artilleryrnan who had seen much
African and Indian service volunteered
I<v-