THE AMERICAN S PORTSMAN'S JOURNAL. 



NEW YORK THURSDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1878. 



For Forest and Stream and Rod Ctnd Gun. 

 LONG ISLAND IN LATE OCTOBER. 



|~|0TOBEK'8 flaming banners, of purple and of sold, 



u 



O'er all the bowery woodland, are flauntiugly nnroll'd ; 



From bis o'er-brlmm:iig urn red Autumn poura his dyes 



O'er all thy realm, Long Inland, from clouds that sail the akie3. 



Thy woods of elm and chestnut, so emerald-green ere while, 



Now glow wi;h brightest blnsheB, suffused with Autumn's smile. 



The maples of the uplands are flushed with royal red, 



A nd rob id mid garlands golden o'er the pasture-oaks are spread ; 



The sumacs by the roadside now wear a scarlet crown, 



The bayberry bashes by the beach are c"ad in russet brown ; 



The apple orchards, late despoiled of all their ruody globes, 



Tlnet witlt the frost are all arrayed in vari-color'd robes ; 



And low in swamps and thickets of cedar and of pine, 



The woodbines redden, and the lithe, hlgh-clambsring grape-vine. 



And there the village children come, the purpling grapes to glean. 



Whose clusters load tlie alders that o'er the Btreamlets lean. 



The grass of summer uplands, where far the sheep-flock strays, 



The bush grass of the meadows, where wad l tig cattle graze, 



So green ere while, are wither'd now, and thro' their thin brown leaves 



The sorrowful breeze Is sighing, like »ne In pain that grieves. 



Thetrabblingbrook, whose currents glide through banks of living green, 



So clear that in the crystal deaths the spotted trout were seen, 



Creeps brown and turbid now, all chok'd with foliage sere— 



A clouded mirrcr now, ere while transparent dear ; 



Nor more the angler comes with tapering rod to sweep 



The brook or limpid pond where dark tree-shadows creep. 



I Btand high up a hillside, where far as eye may reach, 

 Stretch out fair woods and fields, and the sandy, yellow beach. 

 The harvest crops are garner'd, the flelds lie brown and bare, 

 The three Iter's flail in distant barns, resounds upon the air ; 

 I hear the cow-boy's call, the whistle of the bird, 

 And all the joyous sounds of rural life are heard. 

 1 hear the piping quail and the gunner's weapon ring. 

 And see the startled coveys burst forth upon the wing; 

 I hear far overhead, in the upper realms of air, 

 The honking of wild geese, as onward swift they fare ; 

 Mi. I in the salt bay meadows I see the fowler's boat, 

 I hear his gun, I see the smoke above his ambush float : 

 I see the platoons of the coot, the squadrons of the brant, 

 And hovering black ducks, the shallow coves that haunt, 

 The Bhelldrake and the broad-bill, and all the feather'd flocks 

 Which haunt the o.jea biys aai waesl o'er oseia roits. 



Fair acenes I bright scenes, enchanting scenes, that fill 

 The heart with o'erflowing Joy, and the llfe-pulaes thrill, 

 So fair in all your Autumn pomp,* in all your summer green, 

 When woods are bright, skies full of light, and waters smile serene ! 

 Shelter Island, October. — Isaac McLbllan. 



For Forest and Stream and Sod and Gun. 



K 



THE writer, in company with Mr. H. C. Price, of Brook- 

 lyn, left Titusville in the early part of last February 

 for a cruise on the beautiful sheet of water known as the In- 

 dian River. Only those who have taken this trip can form 

 »ny idea of the charm of sailing and camping in these waters. 

 Extending for over 150 miles, averaging two miles in width 

 fed by various inlets from the sea, it becomes a miniature 

 land-locked ocean. The water perfectly salt, and at night 

 sparkling with phosporeseent light, teeming with fish of many 

 varieties and containing numerous beds of lucious oysters. Its 

 banks alternate between high bluffs of pine lands and palmetto 

 hammocks (where quail, wild turkeys and deer are found), 

 with dark and gloomy swamps, in whose tangled recesses 

 lurk the panther and wild cat, and glide the alligator and 

 moccasin snake. The perfect days and delicious nights all 

 combine to make this a mo3t desirable resort. 



At Titusville we chartered a small flat-bottomed sloop, 

 about 30 feet in length and about four tons burden. A water- 

 proofed tent, arranged to go over the boom and fasten down, 

 under the sides of the boat, made us a comfortable and dry 

 tent at night. A small galley stove, fitting in snugly under 

 the forecastle, a good colored man as " chef," and plenty of 

 com meal, " hog and hommny," with etceteras, sufficed for 

 the wants of the inner man. Rifles, choke-bore breech-load- 

 ers, fishing tackle of all kinds, with plenty of ammunition and 

 metal shells, and last, but not least, a couple of staunch set- 

 ters completed our equipment. 



_ After leaving Titusville our first stopping-place down the 

 river was at a noted orange grove ; here we laid in a supply 

 of splendid oranges, lemons and limes. The kind old gentle- 

 man owning the grove allowed us to pick our oranges from 

 the trees ourselves, which made it more romantic. It was a 

 pleasant sight to see the long rows of orange and lemon trees 

 'With their golden fruit gleaming amid the dark-green, glisten- 



ing foliage, while all around them, standing as sentinels, 

 clustered the " wind brakes " of graceful palmetto. 



We next ran across the river to Merrill's Island, where we 

 found the quail very plentiful, starting sometimes a dozen 

 coveys in the hour. But alas, every "rose has its thorn." 

 The mosquitoes were so numerous here and so vindictive in 

 their attacks that shooting became almost a martyrdom, and 

 the thick palrae! to scrub told heavily on the dogs. We re- 

 mained here some time. Our boat anchored in a little quiet 

 cove, the surrounding hanks fringed with palmetto and huge 

 live oaks, their every branch festooned with a drapery of 

 Florida moss, hanging gray and dead like old men's beards, 

 as if a race of loug-fo:-gotten ancient Neptunes had been 

 doomed to stand there on guard forever, the limpid water 

 revealing in all clearness the white and pebbly bottom, where 

 the channel bass, mullett and cavalli darted swiftly to and fro. 

 Over all, the glorious sunlight and blue sky of Florida, 

 the air musical with the calls of quail, the whistling of the 

 red-bird, and the shrill cry of the sea-gull, while the deep 

 booming of the surf (only half a mile distant) broke in with 

 its heavy monotone. 



We made frequent trips over to the Banana River, where 

 wild fowl were found in great abundance, and a few Wilson's 

 snipe. Our next halt was made at Crane Creek. Here we 

 found plenty of quail and many curious and beautiful birdF, 

 among them white and blue herons, pelicans, parrakeets 

 and cormorants. Higher up the creek we saw many alliga- 

 tors. 



One day, when paddling quietly up the creek on the look- 

 out for 'gators, a large Duck of wild turkeys suddenly " broke 

 cover " from a palmetto swamp. We both discharged our 

 rifles at them, killing one fine gobbler. Prom Crane Creek 

 we sailed down the river and made our next camp on the 

 opposite side. Here a narrow neck of land about a half mile 

 wide and covered with heavy palmetto scrub, divides the 

 riverfrom the ocean, and here we remained some time enjoy- 

 ing a daily surf bath, deer hunting, and shooting beach snipe 

 and pelicans. 



One day while crossing over the beach one of the dogs was 

 observed to act very strangely. He came to a half point on 

 something in the scrub, and then ran to us apparently much 

 alarmed. We retraced our step?, thinking it might be either 

 a fox or snake, when suddenly, almost beneath our feet, up 

 sprang a couple of deer. My companion brought one down 

 with a charge of buck shot, and the other fell a victim to a 

 Sharps rifle ball. After securing the game we had a good 

 laugh at the novel idea of a setter dog pointing venison. Dur- 

 ing our stay here we killed three deer, and were thus enabled 

 to gladden the hearts of some of the settlers by donations of 

 fresh meat. And thus the happy days and weeks glided by 

 Sometimes we camped at the mouths of little creeks and inlets 

 whose (to us) unknown waters we exp'ored in a small skiff, 

 sure to find good sport shooting alligators, deer and wild 

 turkeys. The " cast-net " at night supplied ub with mullett 

 for the table and bait for channel bass fishing. It was .'rand 

 sport catching these immense fish on hand-lines or with a 

 stout boat rod and large salmon reel. Sometimes, too, we 

 would hook a "tartar" in the shape of a shark, when the 

 total loss of hook, bait, and general demoralization of the tackle 

 would be sure to follow. Higher up the different creeks and 

 fresh water rivers good sport could be had with trout rod and 

 flies. 



At the St. Sabaslhn River we remained some time, and 

 here an accident befell which bereft the writer of a favorite 

 setter. Poor Dash could not resist his instinct -to retrieve 

 and while swimming the river one day in hot pursuit of a 

 crippled duck, and deaf to all remonstrances of his master 

 a huge alligator rose to the surface. 



A yell of terror from the doomed dog ; the deadly sweep of 

 the reptile's tail ; the metallic clash of its jaws : a splash • a 

 struggle, and poor o.'d Dash sank to rise no more. Peace to 

 his body ! He was a good dog and faithful friend, and may 

 his spirit find some canine paradise where boues and birds 

 abound and 'gators exist not, It was also here that the sur- 

 viving setter distinguished himself by a panic. While hunt- 

 ing quail one afternoon, about, a mile from the boat, Don con- 

 cluded to inves'igate a tangled swamp. In a few minutes a 

 howl was heard, almost human in its agonized expression of 

 terror. Out of the swamp came the dog as an arrow from 

 a bow, "each individual hair standing on end, likequills upon 

 the fretful porcupine," and, regardless of its master's appeal;', 

 sped frantically to the boat, Close behind him came a pan- 

 ther. Whether the panther would have caught the dog or 

 not, must remain a mystery, for a coup'e of loads of bird 

 shot, poured into the animal at short r;.tige, turned its course 

 and it slunk away into the thicket. As it was nearly dark and 

 no buckshot handy, the writer declined to follow f but it was 

 many days before poor Don recovered the tone of his nervous 

 system. 



The fishing in Jupiter Inlet was simply superb, and some- 

 times we amused ourselves by baiting a large shark hook and, 

 fastening one end with a heavy rope to a mangrove root we 

 generally contrived to hook one of these wicked gentry be- 

 fore morning. One of the most interesting sights of the river 

 is Pelican Island. This is a small mangrove island on the 

 east side of the river partially covered with water, and is the 

 abode of myriads of these curious birds. Every tree is 

 crowded with their nests, and pelicans of all ages and stages of 

 development, jostle and tumble over each other on every 

 oranch. The nobe is deafening and the smell far from that 

 or Araby the Blest. Funny little pelicans, with gieat staring 



eyes and long beaks, their ungainly sprawling limbs clad in 

 short fuzzy down, stare curiously at you, while solemn oil 

 birds, their pouches hanging down, gaze reproachfully upon 

 you. Little tiuy, half-fledged pelicans, with hardly any beak 

 to speak of and no clothes, peep out over their nests to see 

 what is going on, and, toppling over, come fluttering to the 

 ground. 



But your space will not permit of a full description of all 

 the sights, pleasures and exploits of this genial winter resort. 

 Not least among its attractions may be counted the graceful 

 beispitality cf its inhabitants and the deliciously flavored 

 oysters and oranges. And when we found ourselves, about 

 the first of April, back again at Titusville, brown as berries, 

 fat as seals, and with fearful and wonderful appetites, we bade 

 adieu to the Mover, our floating home, with regret, well pleased 

 with our trip and already looking forward with joyful antici- 

 pations to next winter, when we propose, D. V., to try it 

 again 



There is a railway, with a comfortable car, running from 

 Salt Lake on the St. John's River, and I am told by the gen- 

 eral nmnager that by next winter the road will be completed 

 to Lake Harney, so that travelers can then reach the Indian 

 River direct from Jacksonville without change of boat. 

 Sportssmen to Jacksonville will be cordially received and 

 taken care of by the gentlemanly superintendent of the rail- 

 way, Mr. Churchill. By next winter a large hotel will be 

 opened for guests. W. E. C. M. 



For Forest and Stream and Rod and Gun. 

 SNIPE SHOOTING AT CHATEAU 

 RICHER BEACH. 



HHHE first of September brings gladness to the heart of the 



1 



sportsman, for on that day snipe, woodcock and partridge 



shooting commences, and Ihe woods and beaches are— 

 uant with the sound of the fowling-piece, the whistle of sports- 

 men and the barking of cockers, and the proprietors of sports- 

 men's resorts prepare their salons and their chambers a coucher 

 for the messieurs de ville. The fierce rays of the summer sun 

 are somewhat tempered, and one feels in the early morning 

 and evening twilight a suspicion of coming cold. The fields 

 have been shorn of their waving crops, and the green leaves 

 of the maple, the birch, the beach and the oak have changed 

 to pink, to purple, to orange, to brown, and in fact to all the 

 colors of the rainbow, while fruit trees luxuriate in myriads 

 of blue and white plums and rosy and russet colored apples. 



It was in the afternoon a few days ago when myself and 

 friend, seated in a four-wheeled dog-cart, laden with the 

 complement of fowling-pieces, ammunition and the superficial 

 edibles and drinkables not procurable in country villages, 

 d drawn by a strong Norman pacer, whose steps varied not 

 i the level road or on the ascent or descent of hill, drawn 

 over the Dorchester Bridge, leaving the city of Quebec with 

 his countless tin-covered roofs and mountain-pitched edifices 

 behind, to pass a day or so at the village of Chateau Richer 

 and try our luck at snipe shooting on its famous far-stretching 

 beach. Quietly smoking our cigars, while our two pointers 

 contentedly lay at our feet, we could not help feeling some of 

 the enjoyability of life, which now and then repays one for its 

 nps and downs, its disappointments and its cares, its losses 

 aud reverses. 



We passed through the village of Beauporl, with its white- 

 washed lime-stone, vertically twisted cottages on each side of 

 the road cropping up one after the other for miles. Down to 

 the right swept majestically past the great St. Lawrence, lav- 

 ing in its waters the base of the rock built city of the heights 

 of Levis and the shores of the Isle d'Orleans. On this village 

 site, nearly one hundred and twenty years ago, the brave 

 Wolf was defeated by the chivalrous Count do Levis, with 

 the loss of several hundreds of men in killed and wounded. 

 The English afterward revenged the defeat by carrying fire 

 aud sword through all the villages of the north, from Beau- 

 port down. Soon we passed over the rushing, seething Mont- 

 morency River, and from the bridge we saw the fleecy cloud 

 of misty spray rising upward from the falls, not far down, 

 and were almost deafened by the continuous roar of thedashing 

 waters. As we hastened on the sound gradually receded, and 

 we found ourselves surrounded by orchards of apples and 

 plum trees, whose freighted branches stretched across the road, 

 forming an archway, from which we could pick the most de- 

 licious fruits. Delightful cottages and farm-houses, near 

 which were barns, milk houses, stables and bake houses, dotted 

 the side views, and the village of L'Ange Guardien, with its 

 parish church, whose bell was sounding the Angelus, came 

 into view and was passed to give place to more extended 

 views of orchards, forests, towering mountains on one side, 

 and receding declines and river view bounded by the fertile 

 pastures of the Isle d'Orleans on the other. It was getting 

 dusk as we approached the village of Chateau Richer, but we 

 could recognize remembered places of former visits, Bnd, aa 

 we rapidly passed the church, we could feel assured that we 

 had not many yards more to drive before we could be certain 

 of comfortable lodging and hearty welcome at the house of Mr. 

 Pierre Garne&u. 



We were not unexpected, for a telegram had informed our 

 host of our intention, and he was waiting with his lantern lit 



