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THE AMERICAN SPORTSMAN 



JOURNAL, 



Term*. Four Dollars a Year. 

 Ton Cents a Copy. 



NEW YORK THURSDAY, JANUARY 23, 1879 



J Volume 11— No. 25. 

 I No. Ill Fulton St.. N. Tj 



For Forest and Stream and Bod and O-iin. 

 A MEMORY OF TALLULAH. 



A Bong In the distant dells, 



A laugh in tho ancient vales, 

 And dreamily sweet toe moan of tlie land 



As the southwest wind prevails. 

 A call from the great green mil, 



The voice of one 1 know, 

 The low, long laugh of a flying shaft, 



And the ringing of a bow 1 



Sharp and shrill and clear, 



The cry of a wounded bird, 

 Thrilling the air till the sleepy soul' 



Of the wilderness is stirred ! 

 And the bowman, glad of heart, 



Goes on by the sounding flood, 

 And the warp and woof of waves and winds 



Are woven throngh the wood. 

 , , , Bowman. 



For Forest and Stream and Hod and (Jun. 



§mnbks in the §ockg c§$oun= 

 tains, 



BT .J. H. BATTY. 



ii /~^OT any cartridges loaded?" "Yes." "All right; 



^J" let's pull out for the mountain for sheep ; the ponies 

 are in a coule near camp. I saw them a few minutes ago. 

 I'll catch 'em and you get our traps together." 



Such was the salutation 1 received at daylight one morning 

 when poking my head ont from an A tent on the plains of 

 Montana. As he finished speaking Chip started oil on a trot 

 and soon disappeared over a roll in the prairie. In a few 

 minutes he returned, bringing our horse Breeze and a long- 

 legged, stubborn-looking mule that had probably never woru 

 a saddle. " What are you going to do with the mule ?" I 

 asked. "Make him pack me up the mountain; it's better 

 than walking. My pony is lame, so I fastened on the first 

 animal I could catch." 



After considerable skirmishing the mule was finally saddled, 

 tightly cinched, and mounted. Chip found his seat very un- 

 comfortable for a few minutes, but finally the mule fell in be- 

 hind Breeze as I led off up a coule to the mountains. Chip 

 was a philosopher. He started life as a tinsmith in Pennsyl- 

 vania, then became an expert at dentistry in St. Paul, Minne- 

 sota, where he afterward made considerable prowess as a 

 taxidermist and collector. To have seen him in his greasy 

 buckskin suit, fur hat and moccasins, with cartridge belt and 

 rifle, one would think that he was a regular plainsman. He 

 was a good horseman, a crack shot with the ride, a quick 

 trailer, a successful trapper, a good cook, and as crafty a still 

 hunter as ever tramped the woods. 



We hunted together for nearly a year steadily, commencing 

 by scouring the dry, treeless plains of Montana and the 

 Provinces for scattering bands of antelope, thence west to the 

 Rocky Mountains, where we climbed for days over their 

 ragged sides when shooting big-horn sheep. September 

 found us on the rolling prairies of the Province of Saskatch- 

 awau among the buffalo, and the following April we separ- 

 ated at a hunter's cabin near Long Prairie, Minnesota. We 

 had deserted our old deer camp on the edge of the heavy pine 

 timber, having been completely starved out after a full 

 winter's hunt. 



As we followed the course of the coule about three miles to 

 the foot of tho mountains, a few Western buck, sandpipers 

 and gophers were killed on the way. Entering a pass, we 

 followed it for about a mile, and were about to separate to 

 hunt opposite sides of a mountain, when a baud of about sixty 

 big-horns was sighted. Chip had never killed a mountain 

 sheep, and I passed my heavy Sharps rifle over to him 

 skulked away to gain cover. Our riding animals were soon 

 led under cover of a bluff, unsaddled and picketed. A few 

 minutes later the writer was running up a ravine to head the 

 band for some running shots, when the sheep stampeded at 

 the first fire. Peeping over a knoll to locate the band, 1 was 

 surprised to see the sheep loping away in an opposite direc- 

 tion. Bang ! bang ! bang ! went Chip's rifle, and down went 

 a big ram for only a moment, then he jumped up and went 

 over a hill with the band, with a broken leg dangling after 

 him. I was at a loss to know what had frightened the sheep, 

 for Chip surely ought to have bagged one in mitii 

 it was strange for him to shoot before I was "fixed," as we 

 . always made it a point to get in two guns at large game, if 

 passible. Chancing to look at the foot of a hill opposite where 

 the sheep were sighted, the mystery wan explained. There 

 Tyaa -breeze out in plain view watching Chip, and the mule 

 tagging him. The horse had pulled his picket-pin, and the 



mule was bound to pull his and follow, if bis neck paid the 

 penalty. 



Chip followed tho band, but soon joined me, and tho ani- 

 mals were led to the saddles, and in five minutes we were 

 mounted and riding further up the pass. We finally entered 

 a narrow cut, coming out on a table-land surrounded with 

 rolling grassy hills, tho natural pastures of sheep, antelope 

 and elk. We descended into a bottom to get the best feed, 

 and picketed our animals. In addition to the picket pins we 

 took two half hitches with the lariats around two loose rocks; 

 and to make matters more secure, I hobbled old Breeze In- 

 dian fashion. 



We then started out to explore and hunt in earnest. Chip 

 went overamonntain to the east and I went to the west. I 

 tramped for over an hour and my game footed up two brown 

 rattlesnakes and a porcupine. The hedgehog I tied to my 

 bell when dressed, and packed it a long distance ; but it be- 

 came painfully necessary to discard it, as the quills were but 

 half grown and perforated my thick buckskin breeches, and 

 several of its smaller quills entered my fle3b, one of the points 

 of which I carried for nearly a year before it worked 

 out. When free from the troublesome burden, the hunt was 

 continued, and a small band of big-horns was sighted from 

 the top of a bald mountain. They were on the opposite side 

 of a ravine, and there was no cover nearer than the bottom. 

 Some were feeding and others were watching me. 



After taking in the surroundings, I commenced working my 

 way down the hill in a lying position, hitching along with 

 elbows and toes, making about two hundred yards, when a 

 lot of loose boulders furnished the desired cover. The band 

 was then about four hundred yards distant, and the moment I 

 disappeared from view the sheep fell into single file and were 

 soon lost from sight among the loose rocks and dwarf pines. 

 Knowing it would be folly to follow them when they were 

 watching the back trail, the course of the valley was taken, 

 which terminated in a rocky gulch. A short cut over the 

 rocks brought me into another ravine, which, when followed, 

 would interrupt the course of the sheep. A walk of a mile 

 brought me into another large pasture, where cover was taken 

 and a look-out kept. Every hillside and bottom was scruti- 

 nized, and no game sighted. Only those who have hunted 

 the big-horns can comprehend how difficult they are to find. 

 When lying among the rocks they are easily overlooked, and 

 are generally seen when moving or grazing in the bottoms. 



While watching the capers of a gray fox that was hunting 

 n a bottom, I observed a movement among some rocks. It 

 was followed by other moving objects which were at onco 

 recognized as sheep. Approaching under cover of bushes 

 and rooks, I succeeded in getting within fifty yards of the 

 nearest. Peeping over a boulder about eighty big horns were 

 observed within one hundred yards. A stiff breeze was blow- 

 ing, and as the band was to windward and there was no 

 danger of the sheep " winding " me, I sat quietly watching 

 them for nearly five minutes. The band was composed most- 

 ly of three and four-year-old rams. Some were grazing, 

 others were lying on rocks and in groups on the ground. 

 They were keeping a sharp look-out j occasionally one would 

 get up, walk to an elevated spot and look carefully around. 

 Thinking further delay in shooting would be dangerous to suc- 

 cess, I searched the flock for an old ram for the first shot, which 

 would be a sure one. There were several large fellows on the 

 further side of the band, but they were in such bad positions 

 for shooting that a doe and young ram were selected that were 

 near and in range, so there was a possibility of getting them 

 both the first shot. As I pulled four cartridges from my belt 

 and cocked my Sharps rifle I could not help but think of the 

 repeating Winchester at camp. 



Drawing a bead on the shoulder of the doe, I pressed the 

 trigger, and at the report two sheep dropped. The ram, how- 

 ever, regained his feet and went off with a fore-leg broken. 

 In ten seconds after the shot the whole band was in a mass, 

 jostling and crowding In eager haste to get up the steep 

 mountain side. Three more shots were sent into the surging 

 band in rapid succession, and two more rams were left be- 

 hind, apparently in their death struggles. 



Laying the rifle across the doe, I climbed up the steep 

 rocks to roll down the rams. When within a few feet of one 

 of them, he jumped up and ran into some thick dwarf pines, 

 With the writer in hot pursuit. He made better time over the 

 sharp rocks than I did with the moccasins, and he was soon 

 out of sight. Following the bloody trail, he was soon seen 

 lying down behind a bush. Creeping within about five feet 

 of tbe bush, I pounced upon him, seizing him by a fore-leg 

 and one horn. He could neither buck nor bite, but lie suc- 

 ceeded in kicking me off from him in abont three seconds. 

 As he jumped up I caught his fore leg and tipped hirn, plac- 

 ing one knee on his neck and the other on his hind legs. 

 While trying to untie a lariat from around my waist to tie his 

 legs, he flounced from under my knee and gave me such a 

 kick in the throat that I was glad to let him go until my 

 bunting knife, was regained. Taking the back trail to the 

 dead doe the hunting-knife was soon obtained, but on reach- 

 ing the battle-ground the enemy had disappeared and the trail 

 was not plain enough to be followed in the. thick rover. 



in the meantime the other ram had made himself scarce, 

 so 1 hurriedly dressed the doe and packed it to the bottom, 

 where it could be more easily leached with a horse, and start- 

 ed out. in search of Chip. 



1 found him whaie the animals were picketed, and we were 

 soon on the way to feet the dead doe. After some uncom- 



monly rough traveling — the doe was tied behind my saddle — 

 we picked 6ur way through a rocky gulch, over loose stones, 

 to the prairie. During the ride Chip had kept his mule out 

 of smelling distance from the sheep, but in an unguarded mo- 

 ment he rode up to me, and the hybrid got a smell of blood 

 and saw the sheep's head flop. That was more than mule 

 flesh could stand. The mule came down stiff-legged and 

 Chip bounced up. My horse was trembling with fear, and 

 on seeing the mule buck he jumped down a cut bank, and I 

 had scarcely slid off the saddle when it turned, and the 

 horrible sheep slipped down under his belly. Fortunately I 

 had seized the lariat when unhorsed, which brought Breeze 

 up in his wild career, and when he had bucked and snorted a 

 few times he came to me for protection. In the meantime, 

 Chip had walloped his mule into submission, and after blind- 

 folding both animals, saddles were righted, and wc reached 

 camp without, further adventure. 



For Forest and Stream and Hod and Gun. 

 DEER HUNT IN MARYLAND. 



" Away, and away, we'll bound o'er the mountlans, 

 Over the mountain, over the mountain, 

 Over the valley, the hills and the fountains, 

 Away to tlie chase, away, away. 



" See there tho wild deer, trembling, panting, 

 Trembling, panting, trembling, panting ; 

 Fearfully pausing, one moment Btinding, 

 Then off he speeds, away I away !" 



I WAS induced to join two or three acquaintances, early in 

 November, in a' hunting excursion ; two of them and 

 myself taking the same route, and the fourth, from another 

 State, to meet us by appointment where we left the railroad. 

 We were all provided with repeating rifles, as well as our 

 driver, for neither the rough locality chosen and the absence 

 of snow admitted of successful still hunting ; hence a resort 

 to our dogs to start the game. As I do not remember to have 

 seen an account recently, if at any time, in the Forest and 

 Stream of a fighting buck, I propose to.give you a brief s ketch 

 of one in our hunt. We killed six deer altogether, averaging 

 about one a day — though one day we killed two— and all but 

 one, I believe, were killed on the run or swimming in the river 

 near where our stands usually were ; nor were one-half killed 

 that wore started, as some took water at other points and were 

 lost— at least to us. Two of the six were very large, fat, and 

 four or five prong bucks. 



Two of our party— bachelors— for the fun of the thing, as 

 they stated, preferred to camp in an old unoccupied shanty 

 near the hunting-ground and do their own chores— as, 1 

 think, the Yankees term it — i. e., chop wood, cook their 

 meat, wash dishes, etc. The other two, not appreciating this 

 kind of fun so highly, had their quarters with an old hunting 

 companion and friend of the writer. 



After killing four deer, our dogs got up the first of the 

 large bucks, and after a chase of a mile or two compelled him 

 to take to water, but at a point where we had no watcher. 

 The driver knowing this followed the chase, and thishecoidd 

 do but little behind the dogs, for he stands six feet three or 

 four inches iu his stockings, and is as agile and athletic as a 

 Comanche Indian. When he reached the river— as I learned, 

 for I did not witness this part of the affair — the deer had 

 crossed over to another mountain ; but through the indomita- 

 blo energy of the driver, who waded the river, icy cold and 

 waist deep, followed by the dogs, the buck was again started, 

 and when seen by the driver he was swimming at his leisure, 

 having whipped bur three dogs and also a neighboring cur, 

 which had joined in the sport on his own account. A shot 

 or two at long range from the driver soon started the chase 

 again, however, and turned his course down stream toward 

 our stands, or to mine rather, on the river bank ; as only in 

 deep water could the buck whip his assailants ; but before 

 reaching my stand (at which, and near by, I have killed about 

 a score of deer) he passed within range of a stand a few hun- 

 dred yards above me, and received a running shot, breaking a 

 hind leg, as my friend thought, which turned him at right 

 angles from the river and open ground, into the forest again ; 

 but in making another turn for the river below me, thefleet'- 

 est dog overhauled him— then another, and another juined in 

 the fight. For several hundred yards, with a broken hind 

 leg, he fought off the dogs, tossing them about seemingly as a 

 terrier would so many rats, and still making for the water, 

 until I reached a point between them and the river, when 

 escape was impossible, having a dozen shots in reserve, and 

 all could be used in about as many seconds. 



Fearing he might yet cripple or kill a dog, tor it was a life 

 and death struggle, and no coward in the lot, I raised my 

 rifle, but forbore to fire for a moment or two, as I might ac- 

 cidentally hit a clog in the melee, as none were still a second, 

 en the dogs got the advantage, and the buck was 

 thrown ; when my friend ran up from his stand and shot him 

 in the head. It was his first deer ; and seeing the broken leg 

 in the fight, I supposed it was by his previous shot, and that 

 he was entitled to give the amp de grace. In my many hunt- 

 ing excursions, fights have occasionally occurred will: 

 i wounded bucks ; and I have known thedoga to 

 badly wounded ; and in two cases the dogs killed, with the 



