THE AMERICAN SPORTSMAN'S JOURNAL, 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1878. 



COME BACK. 



Shbkebh Island, h. L, Nov. 14, 1S78. 



EDirOU FoKEST AJ5D SlKBAJI : 



I have received lately a letter from one of the many ad- 

 mirers of Frank Forester in Chicago, who incloses to me 

 several slips from papers published at the time of his death. 

 Among them he sends a poem ( which I inclose) attributed to 

 him, and supposed to be addressed to the wife who had left 

 him, and which was the probable cause of his death. 



Isaac McLellan. 

 Come back and bring my life agalu 



That went with thee beyond my will ! 

 Restore me mat Which makes me man, 



Or leaves me wretched, dead and chill! 

 Thy presence was of life a part ,- 



Thine absence leaves a blank of death ; 



They wait thy presence— eye, and heart, 



With straining gaze and bated breath. 



The light is darkness, if thine eyes 



Make not the medium of itB ray. 

 1 see no star in evening skies, 



Save thou look np and point the way. 

 Nor bursting buds in May's young bloom— 



Nor sunshine rippling o'er the sea- 

 Bears up to heaven my heart's perf urne, 



Save thou my monitor can be ! 



There are two paths for human feet :— 

 One bordered by a dnty plain, 



And one by phan'oms cursed, yet sweet- 

 Bewildering heart, and maddening brain, 



The one will right and reason urge, 

 Bnt thou must walk beside me there, 



Or else I tread Che dizzy verge, 

 And thou some guilt of loss must bear ! 



Come back 1 There Is no cause on earth— 



No word of shame— no deed of wrong- 

 Can bury all of truth and worth, 



And sunder bonds once turn and Btrong. 

 There Is no duty, heaven-imposed, 



That, velvet gloved, an iron hand 

 Upon my heart-striDgs crushed and closed — 



Thy hate should all my love withstand ! 



Days seem like ages— and, ere long, 



On senseless ears the cry may fall ; 

 Or, stilled by bitter shame and wrong, 



The pleading voice may cease to call. 

 Come back ! before the eyes grow dim 



That keep but sight to see thee come ; 

 Ere fail and falter hand and limb. 



Whose strength bat waits to fold thee home ! 



For Forest and Stream and Rod and Gun. 



JlieM gyyotjtB in gun gi^o §o., 



BY T. S. TAN DIKE. 



BETWEEN the Santa Margarita and San Luis Rcy rivers 

 there runs through the high table land a lovely valley 

 some three miles long, and so filled with majestic live oaks 

 and sycamores that one can walk in places for half a mile 

 under a continuous shade. In the choicest part of this is the 

 apiary of Mr. V. 0.' Reche, now known as Fall Brook Post- 

 office, and here I have anchored my roving bark. Mr. Reche 

 does not undertake to keep boarders, but any one who is for- 

 tunate enough to find room with him will fare far bolter than 

 he would dream of in so wild a place, and find better treat- 

 ment than he will be apt to get in most places with far ampler 

 facilities for making things pleasant. 



The quantity of quail in this valley is amazing, but hares 

 and rabbits are not so plenty as in El Cajou, while in a few 

 miles of easy drive is the best duck shooting in the county. 

 The quail shooting I have already described in a former ar- 

 ticle, and the ducks and geese I will leave until winter. But 

 there is one kind of hunting of which I must tell you fully, 

 because it is not only one of the finest of American field sports, 

 but one to which I think no approach to justice has been ever 

 done by the very few who have attempted to describe it— still 

 hunting in San Diego County. 



As this is no place for either natural history or methods of 

 hunting, I shall give but one or two points about the deer of 

 this section before we start OH a hunt. It is generally sup- 

 posed to be the black-tail, but is in fact a variety of the mule 



deer, a point already fully explained in this journal. It is a 

 shorter-legged and shorter-tailed deer than the white-tailed or 

 Virginia deer, and is not on an average quite so large. Few 

 does will dress as high as 100 pounds and few bucks over 150, 

 although I have shot two estimated at 200 that would surely 

 have gone 225 if as fat as deer ofttn are at the East. Though 

 never as fat as the Eastern deer often get, this deer is still very 

 good eating, and though not quite as wary as deer that are 

 incessantly popped at by market shooters, is quite smart 

 enough to make you polish your, wits up bright to see him, 

 and when alarmed, whether wounded or well, can do 100 per 

 cent, more of " git tin' out " per second than any oilier animal 

 that runs. It rarely runs with the lope or canter of the white 

 tail, though it sometimes does, but its usual gait is a perfect 

 bound or bounce like a ball, all four legs striking the ground 

 at the same instant and grouped close together with the legs 

 almost stiff. Though they soon tire, they will run this way for 

 half a mile or so as fast as a horse, up hill, down hill, over or 

 through brush, over rocks, fallen trees or any thing — all ground 

 seems equally easy to them — their feet making all the time 

 only one regular '* bump, bump, bump, bump " on the hard 

 dry ground. 



He has no flaming white flag to wave adieu to blighted 

 hopes, yet he has a complacent wiggle of his little stubby tail 

 as he dissolves in the chapparal or fades over a ridge that 

 operates as an equally effective stimulant to the ejaculatory 

 tendencies of mortified humanity. He has also a very neat 

 but intensely annoying little trick that I never noticed in the 

 white-tailed deer— that of hiding or skulking in brush. 

 Dropping its head and crouching low, it will often stand con- 

 cealed in brush but a few yards from you, and all the noise 

 you can make will not start it sometimes. When wounded it 

 can skulk out of your sight in brush only four feet high, and 

 unless you can get above it you often cannot get a second 

 shot. The quantily of small bullets this deer can get away 

 with is astonishing, and a small-bore is utterly unfit for this 

 country unless the ball be made expansive, and even then you 

 will lose about one-quarter of your game without a dog, and 

 some even with a dog. 



The " Burro deer," or Colorado mule deer, is found on the 

 desert slope of the mountains, but not on this side, except 

 very rarely. No other variety of deer is ever seen here. 

 There are a few grizzly bears and panthers in the mountains, 

 and in two or three places is yet a small band of antelope, but 

 none of these are plenty enough to hunt with much prospects 

 of success. The black and cmamon bears, the elk and mount- 

 ain sheep are not found here. 



About twice a week a camp hunt is in order, for Reche is 

 an old sportsman and quite as fond of huntiDg as I am. After 

 dinner it is the work of a few minutes to toss into the wagon 

 a couple of saddles, a box of bric-a-brac for the internal 

 " whatnot " and our blankets, etc., and a drive of about an 

 hour amid splendid scenery brings us to our ground. Good 

 deer range isjabundant on all hands, as the settlers only average 

 about one to the square league, and few of them hunt much. 

 We will go to-day, however, to the high bluffs of the Santa 

 Margarita. These are about 1,000 feet high and break away 

 on the top into gulches, basins, canyons, ridges and peaks of 

 various sizes. 



In and along these little gulohesand canyons, and especially 

 around their heads, is the favorite resort of the deer by day, 

 where, ensconced under the thick green shade of the surnacor 

 some other evergreen, they chew the cud of calm content 

 through the heat of the clay. About sundown they move 

 about and browse, descending to the river during the night 

 and loafing lazily back toward the top of the bluffs after day- 

 light in the morning and laying down from seven uutil ten 

 o'clock, according to the moon and the heat of the sun. 



Imagine yourself with me about four o'clock p m., shod in 

 buckskin moccasins, overalls, shirt and bat instead of the fif- 

 teen pounds of sudorific oppression you pack over the East- 

 ern hills ; a dress you can weir 840 days iu the year here, and 

 which makes 100 per cent, difference in the comfort of shoot- 

 ing. We saddle up the horses, and, after climbing 700 or 800 

 feet, tie them to a bush while we go on to riDd a load for them. 



Owing to the unusual growth of vegetation last winter, 

 which now lies dead and brittle, si ill hunting is this year 

 noisy hunting, and deer cannot be approached as closely as 

 usual. Running shots, and long ones at that constitute abaut 



two thirds of all the chances we will get, 

 cautious aad keen-eyed. For the s 

 year such a very difficult and slow operatior 

 pays. The best way is to visit such places 

 down in and depend on jumping them, or sa 

 long distance while on foot in the morning oi 

 ;e a trail that winds up II i 

 by the. wild cuttle, and v;J 

 and easily. After winding around 

 gulches and the base of a small peak, it desc 

 some a00 yards wide aud 150 feet 'deep, th 

 is cut up into gulches and ridnea. witli nlent 

 other evergreen 

 will never do 



extremely 



tracking is this 



that it scarcely 



as the deer lie 



iag them from a 



evening. 



a ravine, Ii is 



3 to travel softly 



if i vi or three 



uds into a basin 



lottom of which 



;e3, with plenty of sumac and 



ed thickly here and there. It 



tor it goes down 



liiisighl ol anything that might beiuit. You 



around it and i on he ' ipposite side, and then 



II enl I it by this little swale that rums down to the left and 



ccme across to you, There is almost certain to lie a deer 



lying iu there, ami ■■ , . , sharp to get a Sh(51 



bump, accompanied by the smash of brush. Run for that 

 point that makes out there a few yards ahead und ply thy 

 moccasins as though a grizzly mother were raciug close upon 

 thy rear, while I run with equal speed for the point 

 over which the trail gies. Arriving at our points almost 

 together, we see about half way across the bottom 

 of the basin careering wildly over bushes, wide gullies and 

 heavy boulders, with high and flying bound— what? The 

 regulation big buck, that inevitable blank-blankcdest-blank- 

 blank of a blank-blanked old buck ? No. MirubiU dklu, it 

 is not, but only a couple of what the high-minded, noble- 

 souled sportsman always disdains to butcher (with the quill)— 

 two poor little innocent baby-deer. The poor little things are 

 only about two-thirds grown, and of course we'll be magnani- 

 mous enough to let them live aud hunt up something worthy 

 of our lead. Yes, if I know anything about fawns I think 

 likely wc will, under present eircum-tances, anyhow. Of all 

 nonsense the idea that a fawn is necessarily easy to kill is one 

 of the greatest. A spotted fawn is quite another matter ; but, 

 three times out of four, a fawn two-thirds grown will test the 

 wits, nerve and skill of a hunter quite as much ag that eve) 

 lasting old buck, who, especially in the fall, is much more 

 likely to be an old fool than a fawn is to be a young fool. 



Bang! whang! go our two rifles, both bads passing just 

 over the rump of one as he comes down from a high spring. 

 Hold lower and farther ahead next time. Another jump and 

 they disappear in a gully that makes off to the right and leads 

 into a patch of heavy chapparal. Scramble now as fast as 

 your legs will bear you for the side of the basin above that, 

 while I go down and follow up the gulch. They will prob- 

 ably skulk now in that thick brush, and I will drive them out. 

 Keep a sharp watch from above and send a ball into the first 

 patch of gray that moves in the brush. We soon reach our 

 places, but all is still. The noise of bouncing hoops and 

 crashing brush has ceased. Perhaps the poor little babes are 

 exhausted and are wailing for us to walk up and blow their 

 heads off. 



After thrashing around in the brush for eight or ten minutes 

 I reach you. You have seen nothing and beard nothing, and 

 neither have I. Where in creation can they be ? 



They may be yet skulking in that brush or . Look on 



yon ridge some 300 yards off behind you. Do you see just 

 over the low chapparal two delicate heads and two pair of 

 long, gray ears turned toward tis, Raise your 250 sight and 

 pull away ; it's the only chance now. 



Before the sight can be adjusted and the rifles raised the 

 heads disappear, two dim gray sprits bob up and d iwn once 

 or twice in the chapparal, and all is still. 

 Can those be the same two ? 



Let's circle around a little and see. Yes, here are the tracks 

 coming out of the head of this little brushy gulch. They 

 have gone out on a trot, you see, and doubtless crouched so 

 low that the brush concealed them. 

 And so we're euchred ? 



Even so. It's utterly useless now to follow them. 

 Let them go, then. Who would kill such poorlittle babes ? 

 Verily, who would ? More properly, who could ? 

 The sun is now sinking fast ; the silver sheen of the far-off 

 Pacific is changing into burnished gold; the distant peaks of 

 green and gray are reddening into crimson and purple j the 

 soft green of the chapparal slides into a dark velvet hue ; the 

 humming-bird and bee are humming on their homeward way, 

 aud the roariug wings of hundreds of quail going to roost re- 

 sound like distant thunder from the long, greeu canyon 1,000 

 feet below. Something must be done quick or we are 

 '■Chicagoed." 



Hark ! that is the crack of Reche's Maynard in the next 

 basin. Run quick, for he may have jump At more than one, 

 and it may come this way. 



A dash of 200 yards along a cattle trail that follows the ridge 

 brings us in sight of the basin from which the shot came, and 

 up the right-hand side, like a richochet ball, is bouncing, with 

 airy grace, a long-eared mass of gray, with glistening horns 

 projecting high above his head. He looks as round as a mule 

 and shines with sleekness. He is 175 yards away, and rising 

 at least three feet at every jump. No mortal rifleman can 

 touch him on that gait except" by chance. We'll try him, 

 though. Pull ten feet ahead of him and tire, not when lie is in 

 the air, but before he rises from the previous jump, for it is 

 necessary to shoot a whole jump ahead of him. 



Bang ! bang ! ring the two rides in succession, and the dirt 

 flies just under him and just behind him. Bang! goes my 

 second barrel, held a little higher to avoid my previous error, 

 and the dirt flies just over the edge of his back. Bang.' goes 

 your rifle, and again the dirt flies behind him. Aud still thit 

 buck goes on, goes on. Away he scrambles with era 

 bound; again the dirt flies just around him and behind him; 

 it still his days go on, go on. In a moment more he vanishes 

 a pocket of the mountain's Clark green vest, und we are — 

 Ohieagoed ? 



liven so: for the short twilight of the South will leave us no 

 time to And another, and it's quite follow this one. 



Reche whistles a signal on an empty Bliel] Ian he has one ami 

 starts for a horse, while we wead our iv \ down 



the mountain, meditating on the fondej tl asi with JVMcha 

 deer can slip through a hunters Angers and the immense 

 amount of space 1 1 



After a suppei i i best thing to si ep on— 



smoked venison, q iail : ■ ■■ ai d pe tcbj 



mounted by the p oper :»»i of lingual musii 



Before you and there's a rapid bump, bump, smoke, we go to reit under the only tont ' 



