At night the musquito lancers take up the action—the Indian tribes of the insect species—and all night they keep up their ceaseless war-whoop, as they repeat their sallies upon the weary, disturbed sleeper. No coat of mail is proof against the attacks of one species of fly commonly called the midget, which is so small as to be almost imperceptible to the naked eye. The black fly and the musquito can only reach the exposed parts of the body, but to the midget every portion is accessible. He insinuates himself under the collar, the wristband, and through the texture of the garments, and the whole region between the shirt and the skin is a field for his operations.
In one process of the haying operations, in particular, they are very annoying. The hay, when cut, is carried in small cocks upon two poles by two men to the scaffolding, for the purpose of being stacked. While thus employed, with both hands engaged, millions of these little invisibles insinuate themselves under the garments, and, whatever interest or ambition may fail to do, by way of producing energetic motion, the irritating smart of their bite abundantly makes up. Nolens volens, the men thus employed dance to the tune of "Midget's meadow-hay jig;" and when no longer able to resist the earnest invitation to rub and scratch, which their irritating bite holds out, down drop the poles, hay and all! Ah! let him who has experienced the irritation, and the relief of furious friction, think—I'm sure he may not pen it.
But, notwithstanding the labor and annoyances of meadow life, there are pastimes and adventures to be met with. A shot now and then at some stray deer who may chance to stroll upon the meadow to graze; the hooking of beautiful trout, pickerel, and other delicious pan-fish, afford agreeable relief from ennui; while the spoils of the forest and the brook afford most agreeable changes of diet. Here, also, very frequently are skirmishes had with the common black bear. If Bruin is not intentionally pugnacious, he is really meddlesome; nay, more, a downright trespasser—a regular thief—an out-and-out "no-government" animal, who, though neither profane nor yet immoral, still, without apostolical piety, would have "all things common." These peculiar traits of character secure to him the especial attention of mankind, and ever make him the object of attack. Though formidable as an enemy, it is hard to allow him to pass, even if he be civilly inclined, without direct assault. On one occasion, while two men were crossing a small lake in a skiff, on their return from the meadows, where they had been putting up hay, they discovered a bear swimming from a point of land for the opposite shore. As usual in such cases, temptation silenced prudential remonstrance; so, changing their course, they gave chase. The craft being light, they gained fast upon the bear, who exerted himself to the utmost to gain the shore. But, finding himself an unequal match in the race, he turned upon his pursuers and swam to meet them. One of the men, a short, thick-set, dare-devil sort of a fellow, seized an ax, and the moment the bear came up, inflicted a blow upon his head which seemed to make but a slight impression. Before a second could be repeated, the bear clambered into the boat; he instantly grappled the man who struck him, firmly setting his teeth in the man's thigh; then settling back upon his haunches, he raised his victim in the air, and shook him as a dog would a wood-chuck. The man at the helm stood for a moment in amazement, without knowing how to act, and fearing that the bear might spring overboard and drown his companion; but, recollecting the effect of a blow upon the end of a bear's snout, he struck him with a short setting-pole. The bear dropped his victim into the bottom of the boat, sallied and fell overboard, and swam again for the shore. The man bled freely from the bite, and as the wound proved too serious to allow a renewal of the encounter, they made for the shore. Medical aid was procured as soon as possible, and in the course of six weeks the man recovered from the effects of the bite. But one thing saved them from being upset; the water proved sufficiently shoal to admit of the bear's getting bottom, from which he sprang into the boat. Had the water been deep, the boat must inevitably have been upset, in which case the consequences might have been more serious.
It was on one of these haying occasions that a more startling but harmless encounter with the elements was experienced. One afternoon, about two o'clock, while several men were making their way up a small stream on a branch of the Penobscot, their attention was suddenly arrested by a sound which resembled distant thunder. Each moment the noise grew more distinct, accompanied with a tremulous motion of the earth. Still nearer and yet nearer it approached, with a rushing sound, intermingled with loud reports. Between our boatmen and the forest at the southwest spread an area of meadow land. Looking in this direction, a dense column, rising high in the heavens, was seen whirling in the distance, and approaching with incredible velocity. They barely effected a landing when it came upon them. In an instant their boat was hurled into the tops of the trees over their heads, while they were able to retain their position by holding on to the small undergrowth, and escaped unhurt. The hurricane, in its passage across the meadow, seemed to lose its force, so that by the time it reached the opposite side of the meadow its power was broken, and its career of destruction ended. In its passage it laid a strip of forest level some seventy rods wide and thirty miles long. No tree within this limit withstood its fury. The toughest and stateliest mingled in wildest confusion with blanched trunks, yielding sapling, and slender undergrowth.
At the proper time, which varies in different localities, but generally during the early part of fall, a more extensive outfit is made for another up-river expedition, for the purpose of erecting winter camps, clearing the main roads, and attending to such other preliminaries as may be deemed necessary.
Several years ago the whole distance from our homes to the interior was traveled by water, on which occasions heavy-laden boats were taken up these rivers and streams, and across the lakes, an operation which was both hazardous and laborious, particularly where the swift current of rapids was to be overcome, and when it became necessary to carry the boat and cargo around impassable falls—a frequent occurrence, the river in some places being nothing but one continuous succession of rapids for miles. In some places, to save the labor of "carrying by," attempts are made to shove the boats up fearful rapids, where a single mistake or false maneuver would swamp them. A lively little incident of this kind is quoted below, from Doctor Jackson's account of an excursion up the Penobscot on the business of a geological survey of the state.
"While we were engaged in exploring the rocks (at Grindstones Falls), our men tried to shove the boat up the falls, but the violence of the current prevented their effecting their object, the boat being instantly filled and sunk in the attempt, while all our baggage and provisions that remained on board were swept off and carried down the stream. A scene of unwonted activity now ensued in our endeavors to save our articles, as they were rapidly borne down the foaming waters. The boat, fortunately, was not much injured, and we succeeded in hauling it upon a rock, and bailed out the water, after which we gave chase to our lost articles, and succeeded in saving those that were most essential to our safety. The bread-barrel, although scuttled, was but half full of bread, and floated down stream with its opening uppermost, so that but little of it was injured. Our bucket of rice burst open and was lost. The tea-kettle and other cooking apparatus sank in the river, and were fished up by a hook and line. The tent was found about a mile down the river, stretched across a rock. The maps and charts were soaked with water, so that it required as much labor and patience to unroll them as the papyri of Herculaneum. Our spare boots and shoes were irrecoverably lost. Having rescued the most important articles from the water, we carried by the falls, camped, and dried our papers and provision, being thankful that no worse an accident had befallen us. Fortunately, we had taken the precaution to remove our surveying instruments and the blankets from the boat before the falls were attempted.
"Having kindled a camp-fire and dried ourselves, a storm of rain began to pour around us; but our great fire was not easily damped, and we passed a comfortable night beneath the shelter of a water-proof tent.
"The Penobscot boatmen are well skilled in the art of camping in a comfortable manner, and soon prepare their fire for the night, make a bed of boughs, and pitch the tent in such a manner as to afford a complete shelter. Having partaken of our meal, we reposed upon the boughs spread upon the earth, our feet being turned toward the fire. This being our first encampment for the season, the novelty of the scene prevented sleep; the night was very pleasant, and the broad moon, slowly descending in the west, added her effulgence to beautify the scene, her image being reflected by the rippling waters, while various contrasts of light and shade from the dense foliage, and the pale moonbeam and glaring red camp-fire, gave an effect full of beauty, and worthy the attention of an artist.
"Amid pleasant scenes, we are, however, subject to contrasts of a less agreeable kind; and here our Indian, while cutting wood, suffered a severe accident; his hatchet, accidentally slipping, was driven deeply into his leg between two bones, so as to expose the anterior tibial artery. I was then called upon in my surgical capacity, and, having my instruments with me, dressed his wound in the usual manner, and early next morning we took him to Maltanawcook Island, where we made arrangements with another Indian, Louis Neptune, to supply his place while he was recovering from his wound."