THE WILD WEST. 4H 



"Yes. far back from the river, in places the buffalo grass stood one foot in 

 height, while the luxuriant growth of grass in the river bottoms at times in places 

 almost hid the Arkansas from view; in almost every plains visited the prairie 

 runners, as the Indians called the antelope, added life, the very poetry of all 

 motion to the view; the lesser prairie folk that fly, run and crawl were most 

 abundant and seemed to think that the beautiful prairie lands bordering the river 

 were made for them, while the scattered groves of cottonwood trees assured the 

 prairie traveler of abundance of wood for his campfire, and that everywhere in 

 those reaches of the river that were bare of trees, ready to hand, was the 'boi? 

 de vache,' the buffalo chip it was borne in upon one that the materials of a good 

 camp, wood, water and grass, as stated above, were ready to hand, which with the 

 plethora of game and the dryness of these sandy meadows bordering the Arkansas, 

 especially when the prairie lands were a dreary wilderness of mud, of a verity 

 made them seem to the old plains wanderers what in fact they were * * * 

 most hospitable. 



"Yours to the end of the trail, 



"DR. A. J. WOODCOCK." 



The doctor calls special consideration to the fine writings of the late notable 

 sportsmen, Col. Geo. D. Alexander and Wm. C. Kennedy, who wrote for the 

 outdoor press and nature over the name of "Old Dominion," where the latter 

 harked the wide-awake foxhounds most around Fairfax section. He says : "I 

 have both of them in my studio in pen and photo, afoot and mounted, and many 

 an English lord and earl, the Atlantic sea across." His brilliant pen never rests 

 while in action. And he quotes from Kennedy in this way : "I have been touched 

 by Dr. Woodcock's personal allusion to myself because, presumptuously, I thought 

 that I could distinguish some similitude between Colonel George D. Alexander and 

 myself. We are about the same age eighty-three or eighty-four years old both 

 have been Confederate soldiers, both devoted sportsmen, and better than all, both 

 chock full of good, rich, red Scotch blood, and the same with regard to our 

 friend, Colonel Gordon ('Pious Jeems'), of Mississippi, for I believe that we 

 are all three nearly allied blood kin." Gen. Wade Hampton is included among his 

 comrades, and I have been his associate repeatedly at Sapphire, Toxaway, in 

 Transylvania, N. C, of recent years. I think he died some five years ago in his 

 eightieth year at Highlands, S. C. 



The October issue of Field and Stream, for 1908, has an article of mine which 

 starts with a duck hunt in Wake county, North Carolina, and ends with the 

 capture of a noted "moonshiner." The incidents are quite different from ordinary. 

 And this puts me in mind of a seven-weeks' scout I had with Major Jacob 

 Wagner, U. S. A., in 1878, among the mountain ranges of Matanga and Ashe, in 

 Xorth Carolina, Johnson county, Tennessee, and Scott, in Virginia. We pulled a 

 lot of illicit stills during the outing, and when I drew out of the scrimmage I left 

 the field for Aberdeen Courthouse, Va., in company with Marshal Kyle (who was 

 afterwards killed), each riding double with a culprit up behind. To say that I 

 felt out of place is a sore confession, for my sympathies were with the men who 

 could not earn a dollar (each) in any other way while they dwelt in the mountains, 

 where ingress and egress in those days was not possible except by a half-barred 

 sled hauled over a trail. Even the streams afforded us exit. We could wade out 

 that way. Anderson, son of C. Bird Jenkins (seabird), showed us where the best 

 trout fishing was, and took us straight to his still and treated us to corn whisky. 

 It broke my heart to be caught in company with the revenue officers and at once 

 be suspected as a decoy by the man they snapped. It was a surprise party to me, 

 and I quit the business at the first leave. 



