STEPHEN MARTIN. 147 



at close quarters, in order not to mutilate this royal game 

 bird. 



Steve went with us on several fishing trips, but never 

 in the open season for game; fishing amused him when 

 there was nothing else to do; it was fun, but hardly sport 

 to him. He cared little for camping out, or for the fields 

 and streams outside of the fact that game abounded in 

 one and fish in the other; hence I said at the beginning 

 of this article that he differed from any of those of whom 

 I have written. He was impatient of any delay, and 

 eager to be stirring; hence some of the ingredients of a 

 good fisherman had been left out of his mental make-up. 



In the early '50*5 there was an epidemic of rifle shoot- 

 ing in the State of New York. Not shooting at game 

 that is one of our steady and never-decreasing infirmities ; 

 but this prevalent disorder took the form of long-dis- 

 tance target shooting. Heavy rifles were shot on bench 

 rests at six hundred yards, mainly in winter on the ice 

 below the city. They had "patent muzzles," a detached 

 piece with pins to set over the true muzzle while seating 

 the bullet in order to leave the muzzle perfectly square, 

 the enlargement necessary to start the bullet in the way 

 it should go being entirely in the false muzzle. These 

 guns were all hand-made. If there were machine-made 

 rifles in those days I never heard of them. All rifles were 

 hand-made. Soldiers did not use them; their muskets 

 were smooth-bores, and it was believed that rifling was a 

 principle that would work well up to a certain calibre, 

 but was only practicable for guns which were shot from 

 the shoulder. For field pieces which threw a six-pound 

 shot it was believed to be useless, because it was thought 

 that the weight of the projectile would prevent it from 

 following the twisted groove. To-day they rifle not 

 only the largest cannon, but even mortars. In the '6o's 



