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July, 1917 cargo of the Forp and Freeman, the people came to me and made known their wishes. To this I replied, stating I could not think of going outside again that winter with a sailing vessel. They - insisted that some one must go and offered to purchase the ship. To this proposition I consented and, making a price, they took her and placed a Captain Beaser in command. The weather softening up some, he secured a crew and left at once for Copper Harbor, and as he had a fair wind, the people naturally looked for a quick trip. (Will state here that, while I did not learn the facts until the following May, the SEAMAN went on the rocks at Copper Harbor between the shore and the light- house, within 12 hours after I sold her.) On Snowshoes to Cleveland “I stopped at Ontonogan until Jan. 14, 1856, and then fitted out for my second snowshoe trip to Cleveland. Perhaps had I then realized the terrible hardships and suffering we were to undergo, I would not have undertaken it, nor is it my purpose to go into much detail in an article of this char- acter. What is given is only for the purpose of illustrating the great differ- ence in past and present conditions. Should a trip to Cleveland now be necessary, it would mean but a few hours of luxurious travel, but at that time weeks of danger, of toil and great suffering surely were in store for the undertakers of a snowshoe trip through the pathless virgin forests in the midst of a northern winter, and as I gaze on the old-time-worn shoes hanging on the wall by my side as I write, and with the events of that soul-trying jour- ney crowding my memory, I cannot but exclaim, ‘How dared I undertake it?’ “After stopping over one night at the Minnesota mine, we left for Cleve- land, plunging into the heart of the forest and traveling by compass entire- ly. For 30 days we floundered through the snow, suffering all the tortures that cold and hunger could inflict. On the thirtieth day, when all my party had sat down to die, fainting with starva- tion, as we had had but one raw hedge hog to eat for three days and nothing at all after that was consumed, I went on ahead in sheer desperation. Sud- denly I came on to a water hole in the ice on a creek and a path leading up over the bank. With a new heart I hastened on the back track to find my companions. Only by beating, pleading and shoving them along could I force them to move. In that gasping lethargy, which always precedes the sleep of a death by freezing, they were indifferent to their end. “We did finally fetch up in a logging shanty on the Wisconsin river, it being occupied by the lumberman whose water hole in the ice I had discovered. This shanty was about 25 miles north of what is now Portage City. It does seem hard that with over $12,000 in my possession I could not buy anything to eat, but it was of no more use than chaff. After recuperating we secured conveyance by horse and sled to Madi- | son, Wis., where we took the cars to Chicago on the old Galena railroad. There I learned by hearsay that the SEAMAN had been lost and the crew frozen, although, as before stated, se- cured the facts the next. May. “On my way from Chicago to Cleve- land we stopped at Oberlin and chanc- ing to look out of the car window saw my owner, Mr. Gates. Immediately go- ing out, I said: ‘How do you do, Mr. Gates?? With a look of startled aston-. ishment, he stepped back and as soon as he could control his voice, said: ‘Is that you, captain? I thought you were dead,’ and, approaching, took hold of my arm. ‘No, sir, I am not dead,’ I replied. ‘I see. you are not, but where is my schooner SEAMAN?’ ‘That I do not know, sir, but come into the car and I will tell you where I last saw her.’ After we had seated. our- selves, he continued: ‘It is a. very singular thing to take charge of a man’s vessel and not know what you have done with her.’ I replied, ‘I do know what I did with her; I have her in my pocket, but the last I saw of her in the flesh was on Dec. 11, 1855, and she was going ‘winged out’ for Copper Harbor.’ I then told him what I had got for the vessel and had that as well as the freight in my _ pocket, also that the crew were all alive. ‘If that is so, I am satisfied,’ he said. On our arrival at Cleveland I turned the proceeds of the voyage over to him. Locomotives for Marquette “After this -I. took command of the schooner E. C. Rosertrs, building in Cleveland and owned by Bacon & Red- ington. The latter had been with my- last owner, Mr. Gates, two years, while I was sailing for him. With the Roperts I was in the Lake Superior trade about six years, during which time Mr. Bacon sold his interest in her to C. T. Harvey, who built the Soo canal. He owned her two years. I was mostly in the iron trade and carried some mining supplies and furnaces and took the sec- ond locomotive that went to Marquette to haul iron ore from the mines; also two cargoes of railroad iron for the track with which to operate same. I also carried nearly all the output of the Pioneer furnace for two years and distributed it from Chicago to Buffalo while Mr. Harvey owned the vessel; and in 1858 I took the boiler of the Ciry oF Superior off of Copper Point. This vessel was lost the preceding fall. “The winter of 1861, after laying up the E. C. Roserts, I went to Black THE MARINE REVIEW | 257 River, now Lorain, and built the barque Wi.i1AM Jones, owned by J. A. Red- ington and myself, and handled her’ 11 years successfully in the Lake Superior and Lake Michigan trade; then, with Mr. Redington, built the schooner NELLIE Repincton in Cleveland and sailed her successfully for 21 years. Delivered Every Cargo “It is a matter of pardonable pride to the writer that of the many cargoes handled by me I never failed to deliver every pound to its rightful owner, and as these flights of memory are about the only thing an old mariner’ can indulge in, I cannot but feel satisfied with - my long career; long, indeed, for on May 2, 1904, it was 61 years since I began my seafaring life and one-half a century was spent on the Great Lakes. I have made several trips to the head of Lake Superior lately and appreciate fully the great changes in the shipping, which, as my readers all know, is now done with large fine steel steamers; no yards to haul, no traverse to work, straight away the course you go and never mind the winds that blow. “Closing my career as a commander with the sale of the Netim Reprncron, I migrated to the east coast of Florida, lat. 27, long. 80, where from my window I can see my present ship, a 30-foot sloop, lying at: anchor on the Indian river. So, as I began with small ships, I close. “My hair is white, my eye is dim, My chance to stay much longer is slim, Farewell, Lake Superior, her waters clear, Her hills to me that once were dear, A summer clime is the place for me, A sunny clime down by the sea.” How Wooden Ships Are Built---[] (Concluded from page 237) gether. Edge bolting means. fastening the pieces together longitudinally. In other words, the ceiling strakes are bolted through and through to each other, as well as being bolted to the frame timbers. There is no doubt that this form of fastening adds greatly to the strength of the hull structure, par- ticularly in a longitudinal direction, offering resistance to hogging strains. In fact, some experts go as far as to say that the edge-bolting is all that prevents the largest of wooden ships from breaking-up in a seaway. This is probably an exaggeration, a‘though it has been demonstrated that timbers well edge-bolted at least approximate the strength of single pieces of the size of the members so combined. Capt. H. W. Butler, Phippsburg, Me., master of the six-masted schooner Epwarp B. WINsLow, has retired.