276 BIRDS IN THEIR RELATIONS TO MAN. 



To such an one it is a prime diversion. The days allotted to 

 it are landmarks in anticipation and remembrance. Thoughts 

 of autumn keep a multitude contentedly at the plow, the 

 bench, and the desk, resisting the appeals of spring and the 

 torrid oppression of summer. For most men there is no 

 pleasure in the sight of flowing blood or broken bones or 

 gaping wounds or glazing eyes. It is not these concomitants 

 of death nor death itself that are enjoyed. Enticement afield 

 lies rather in the fortunes of chance and the exercise of ability, 

 in the thousand delights to eye and car in the haunts of nature — 

 woods, water, busy insects, flitting birds, the gorgeous color- 

 ing of autumn leaves, shy plants that blossom only in the shade. 

 Chasing the quarry is but a string on which these things are 

 strung. Grief bids farewell, care and melancholy go away, 

 when one turns nimrod, as naturally as hunger follows fasting 

 or sleep the labor of the day. 



With many, perhaps the majority, who shoot birds, sport is 

 the main thing; the game, after it is secured, being secondary, 

 — hardly more than incidental. The diversion of mind, the 

 increased vigor, the excitement at the critical moment, and a 

 reasonable number of hits are sufficient returns for all the 

 discomforts endured. The tender, woodsy-savored breasts at 

 supper, to crown the day, are perquisites. But, unfortunately, 

 there are men among the legion included under the title of 

 sportsmen, as distinguished from market-gunners, who have 

 never learned the virtue of moderation. They are never sat- 

 isfied ; they cannot kill enough. No matter how many birds 

 they see or how little use they may have for them, they kill 

 and kill, so long as any are in sight or there is a shot in the 

 locker. The term "game-hog," which has been applied to this 

 sort of a sportsman, is pat. His place is at the bottom of the 

 shooting list. The market-gunner has a poor business, but he 

 has at least a tangible excuse for killing all he can. For the 

 " game-hog"' there is no extenuation, unless we credit him 

 with a weak mind. 



