FOREST AND STREAM 
2118 
the formation of which, the piece tin rmstanca consisted of 
another wild hog, previously shot by Cesar,' and cooked on 
a lofty bamboo gridiron in the smoke of a wood fire. I 
have seldom eaten more delicately flavored or more tender 
meat. We had also several sorts of succulent vegetables, 
light cassava cakes, and cooling fruit ad libitum. We had 
oiir own supplies of wine and spirits, though Cesar had 
plouty of excellent rum; and, it anybody wants to tell 
me whore to get a more enjoyable luncheon this side of 
Delmonieo’s, he may make himself sure of a patient hear¬ 
ing. We shot a variety of birds during the afternoon and 
made a special detour to a sort of bayou funning .through 
a mangrove swamp where X succeeded in drilling a hole 
through the head of an alligator, whoso skin Cesar has 
promised to save for me. 
.Tamaica is only a few days distant from New York. 
There is no hotel accommodation to speak of, hut for a 
sportsman who makes up his mind to rough it, there is a 
warm welcome from a hospitable people; while, should he 
have the good fortune to procure an introduction to a 
country gentleman or two, the amount of roughing he 
would have to undergo would be something equivalent to 
the crumpled rose leaf ou the bed Of tl^o Sybarite. 
1 am now in Hayti, where the only shooting I have seen 
as yet, has been that of the Vice President aud the com¬ 
mander in chief of the forces. If there is any sport, more 
iii your line to be found in the interior I will let you know. 
Douolas. 
Part an Prince, May, 1876. 
For Forest and Stream. 
JOCK’S LAKE. 
I N the year 1863 I was persuaded by a friend to form one 
of a party of five to visit, the “Rorlh Woods" of New 
York for tire first time. Repeated trips to that region, but 
never twice to the same point, have not diminished the 
pleasure 1 always experience in the memory of that occa¬ 
sion, and while the place we then visited has of late years 
been less frequeAied than many others, it may afEonl a few 
Ijlomtnts of gratification to some of the earlier friends of 
the North Woods if I shall recall to mind the locality we 
en joyed so heartily. 
it was somewhere among the late midnight hours of 
Sunday, July 19 th, that my friend Henson mull shouldered 
our pack baskets, seized our handful of rods, and emerged 
from our boarding house in the “Salt City" and bravely 
wended our way to the ncar-at hand railroad depot. We 
were soon at Utica, and in bed for the fractional night re¬ 
maining. The other members of our party had already 
arrived, and were snugly ensconced for the night. In the 
early morning I was aroused by my frieud and ordered to 
don the attire I had chosen for the woods, and to pack up 
and leave the clothing I had deemed essential to the jour¬ 
ney thus far. When I was arrayed, 1 was dismayed at the 
altogether unpresentable appearance I had assumed. .How¬ 
ever it was very early in the morning, and I was reassured 
by the nondescript appearance of the rest of the party, to 
whom I was speedily presented. Calling the roll, there 
were lid. Benson, an old woodsman, and myself, a neo¬ 
phyte from Syracuse, Loomis, the Professor from a neigb- 
boriug academy, and H. H. Thompson, our chief, then a 
clerk in the Treasury Department at Washington, and 
Johnson, a merchant, also from Wasliinglon. Horace, one 
of our guides, was already in the office of the hotel, silent 
and shy, but destined to blossom and unfold as we ap- 
prouolied tlie familiar woods and streams, and to prove 
himself “guide, philosopher, and friend" indeed. 
Two stout wagons were speedily loaded with ourselves 
and our luggage, and we drove oil in the gray morning in 
high glee over the Deerfield lulls northward. A few miles 
out of town, among the trees, in a wild, romantic sort of 
place, at a little half rustic iun, we stopped aud breakfasted 
most heartily. The fuu had begun. We were hi capital 
spirits from that time onward. A long drive, passing 
through Ohio, Morehouseville, and other primitive but 
shrivelled germs of towns, at one of which we took our 
dinner of bread aud milk and picked up another £uide, 
who brought us finally to “Wilkinson’s” (now Watkins’), 
1 bo last solitary house—itself well into the woods—on 
West Canada Creek, thirty-six miles from Utica. We 
were us hungry as a long day’s drive on a bread and milk 
dinner could make men, and I verily believe Lke trout sup¬ 
per which followed was the best eateu supper of the 
season. Here I first encountered the “puuky," and learned 
1 lie almost inestimable value of the “smudge.” The pun- 
kies knew 1 was a stranger, I believe, for more than a mil¬ 
lion of them, according to the coolest estimate 1 could 
then make, attacked me, and in my confusion at the un¬ 
expected slings I was utterly powerless. 1 appealed to 
Benson in my distress. “You see that smudge," said he, 
pointing to a kettle standing before the door, containing a 
smouldering fire, which sent out clouds of smoko; “well,” 
he itddcd, laughing, “you just rush into that and stand 
there, aud the punkies won’t disturb you." “Horrors!" 
I replied, “must a man murder himself to save Mb life?" 
But, the pressure from the invisible host was too great, and 
1 plunged into the Bmoke aud stood there with smarting 
uud tearful eyes, and fearful forebodings of the coming 
two weeks’ experience. In and out of that smoke I went 
in desperation. I thought of Mark Tapley, declared in my 
own mind that he never saw any thing in all his experience 
hall’ so “jolly," and resolved, like Mm, I would try to 
• ‘colne oui. strong!” So by and by I boldly turned my buck 
ou the protecting smudge and went forth to explore the 
regions beyond the narrow limits of the smoky door yard, 
and walked out into a little seven by nine meadow on the 
bluff below which runs West. Canada Creek. Theaceuo 
is magnificent. From the norih, by a winding way, the 
stream comes down through the mountains on cither side, 
roaring and foaming, and passing off to the southeast, still 
fretting with the rocks. Great boulders are in the bed of 
Die stream, and great boulders from the banks and moun- 
liiius of Dio same ruck, covered with evergreen forests, 
stretch away into the distance. The grandeur and beauty 
of the scene entranced mo. I was lost in delightful con¬ 
templation—but pnuklesj I finally surrendered, and went 
back to Die torturing smudge to escape the worse torture I 
was suffering. It was horrible, and even Benson, old 
woodsman as he was, afterwards confessed to me it was 
llio severest attack of punky that he ever experienced. 
Devon ol us slept that night’in the loft, in feather beds, 
nml Wilkinson, as lie look the household caudle down 
I amirs, bestowed his cheerful good night by promising to 
I M ing up a smudge If the puukies should ue "very bad.” 
, j8-.it we slept. • 
The morning opened with heavy rain, which continued 
until noon. We sat andlounged in the wood housej smoked 
our pipes, aud took our turns around the smudge pan. 
Fislliug and hunting stories filled the hours. At noon the 
rain dwindled into a drizzle, and I went up a little stream 
near by aud then and there caught my first tiout. 
Our original plan was to go up West Canada Creek, fif¬ 
teen or twenty miles, to Stillwater, the entire distance to 
he traveled ou foot, with heavy packs on our hacks; but 
the rain had made the path difficult, and hud raised the 
stream sufficiently to destroy all hope of taking fish 
for days to come. The council of war around the 
smudge decided to go to Jock’s Lake (Transparent Lake on 
the maps), nine and a quarter miles distant, and north. 
That journey we accomplished during the afternoon, Wil¬ 
kinson driving in with our luggage, and me walking. Bid¬ 
ing was out of the question. The road was a mere track 
through a dense wilderness, over hills, down steep declivi¬ 
ties, full of monstrous boulders, over and through streams 
almost deep and strong enough to sweep the horses and 
wagon away, through slough holes, over which we toiled 
five weary hours until we reached the little log hut erected 
for sporting parties, which stood on the west shore, and 
near the south end of the lake, most picturesquely situated 
in llio midst of a partially grasB-grown clearing, sloping 
down to the water’s edge. It was not "the thing,” of 
course, to live in the hut, but we stowed our luggage and 
slept there snug and dry, and lived' quite miscellaneously 
outside. I have seen many a time since when I should 
have been glad of the little log hut, with its bed room, 
store room, dining room, parlor, and, upon necessity, 
kitchen, all in one. As seven of us lay side by side across 
one end of the single apartment, upon our bed of fragrant 
boughs, it was a snug fit, and woe to the man who gave no 
heed to the occasional command, “flop over.” 
The following morniug found ns all iu good condition 
and spirits. Somebody was up and out early, and we had 
trout for breakfast. Then we began our explorations. 
Two boats were drawn from their hiding place and 
launched. The finest spring of water imaginable was 
found to be near camp, aud the provisions were unpacked 
and found all right. The lake was declared to be a charming 
sheet of water; the weather was fine, and we were well in¬ 
to the woods, with our allotted time before ns. What more 
but good fishing could be desired? Thai we speedily tried, 
and found to our satisfaction that trout averaging about 
three fourths of a pound each were easily taken not far 
from camp. And now that we have reached the beautiful 
lake with the homespun name, aud again in memory re¬ 
freshed by my journal writlcu there, 1 go through the de 
lightful experiences of our stay there, I am in doubt what 
to say and what to leave unsaid. There was the crystal 
lake fed mainly by springs beneath its surface, in general 
shape like a now moon, curving westward, with rocky 
shores, the forest dense and unbroken, and unmarred by 
the fires wliicli have devastated some portions of the woods. 
There were speckled trout in abundance, although it re¬ 
quired bait to bring them to basket, but they were fine fel¬ 
lows about three quarters of a pound each. Not to be for¬ 
gotten were the rabbits that evuiy evening played fantastic 
tricks new our camp, and occasionally wout into our kettle 
rabbits, and came out dinner: and llio spruce gum, the 
pursuit of which gave me a soubriquet, until the capture 
and care of a young rabbit made me the "lion lamer” of 
the "Numidiau lion.” 1 remember how Thompson, with 
keenest enjoyment, fussed about camp the two first 
days, and surprised us as we neared the shore at even¬ 
ing by Hinging tlie stars and stripes out from the pole of 
our shanty aud shouting as patriotically as a Government 
treasury clerk should do in those war times; and how ou 
Die day following, good nnturedly choosing me as Ilia com¬ 
panion, and Horace as our oarsman, he and I made the 
grand tour of the lake. We had fine success in fishing, 
bill of tlmt day 1 shall longest remember the lunching. We 
went ashore at the head of tlie lake, and ou a big moss 
covered rook at the water’s edge, under two trees, extem¬ 
porized a spread, a couch, and a smudge. In spile of the 
cigar I am smoking as 1 read my journal of that day, and 
write theSe lines, 1 can almost taste that lemonade and 
smell the fragrant forest as we ale and drank in the woods. 
The flavor of the cigars that followed it is even less diffi¬ 
cult to recall, aud the blissful nap which succeeded all was 
more delicious than the sweetest stolen summer sleep in a 
country church during a drowsy sermon. We had been 
told of a rock on tlie west shore as big ns a house. We 
visited it. By means of a tree which had fallen against its 
side, I clambered to ltB top. It was about twenty feet high, 
and 30x15 feel on the top. The old fellow had a history, 
aud had seen elemental fires, hut lie was mute and grand in 
our presence, and refused to be interviewed. 
We fished in tlie lake, bathed iu it, and made our morn¬ 
ing toilet by its clear waters. We shot rabbits and fired at 
a urge!.. We ate, drank, smoked, read many an odd tale 
out of the old pictorial book of fifty-two loose leaves, aud 
slept. We did a thousand and one little things like these— 
simple enough all of them, and foolish and boyish euougli 
many of them—hardly worth writing, hut important, to bo 
done, wliich made our few days of life there delicious. 
Now and then an extra catch of trout,, or a fearful thunder¬ 
storm, or a discussion as to whether we were all “drafted” 
men in the outer world, and whether a deputy marshal 
miekt, uot put iu an appearance for our arrest as deserters, 
varied tlie monotouy of good things we were enjoying. 
One dark, rainy night we were moused from our slumbers 
by Bensou in dripping rubber coat, jacklight in band, 
pushing into-tlie cabin, and Horace following him with a 
deer on his sliouldeTs, the legs drawn about ids neck like a 
fantastic necktie. They had been to the “fly” (1 knew how 
to spoil that word once.), and after successfully floating up 
to aud shooting a fine buck, had finally, through manifold 
difficulties, threaded their way through the woods in tain 
and darkness to camp again. 
W« were very much troubled by llio gnats and mosqui¬ 
toes on shore, but always found relief on the water, aud 
of an evening frequently moored our boats out a few rods 
from shore, and smoked and told stories ana exploded our 
wit in serenity and safety. The air was as pure as the 
Water, and the temperature perfect. 
Finally, one appoinlcd day, Wilkinson drove in for ns 
and took our diminished luggage. Wo gaily, and with 
vigorous step, marched the nine aud a quarter miles hack 
again to the "Jasl house,” spent the night, and at half past 
three o’clock Die next morning drove away to Prospect, 
twenty-one miles, where we took llio train and were in 
Otica at half past ten o’clock that forenoon. Our good 
clothes and dinner folluwed, and then ivo separated. 
I ought not, perhaps, to add that "U. H. T.” is now in 
New York, and an occasional correspondent of Forest 
and Stream, nor that. Benson is at Binghamton, N. Y., 
a busy man of affairs, but as genial a man and aB aidenl a 
sportsman as in 1863; but “what I have writ I have writ." 
Loomis I used occasionally to meet, but his brawny frame 
ami kind, wise face have gone bcyontl my horizon some¬ 
where in tlie wide world, and Johnson may, for aught I 
know, be still among Ms hardware in Washington, or, if 
the wheel of fortune has revolved once too often, he may 
be again sailing around the world in u merchant stiip seek¬ 
ing his fortune. And I—1 never forget Ihe misery of my 
first night at Wilkinson's, nnr the unbounded pleasure and 
profit of all the rest ol*my expedition to Jock’s Lake. 
February, 1876. A. J. N. 
- - 
For Forest and Stream. 
THE GAME OF SOUTHERN C A LIFO R- 
NIA-BY ONE WHO LIVES THERE. 
I HUNT: and in the hope that some among your many 
readers will like to read a line or so concerning the 
game and fish of Southern California, I'll try to write. 
Here in the foot hills and lower lands we have quail, 
rabbits, hares, wild pigeons, doves, English and bustard 
snipe, black-tail deer, antelope, coyotes, wild cats, moun¬ 
tain lion, coons, foxes, badgers, many ground grey squir¬ 
rels, and a few tree squirrels. On the marshes and lagu¬ 
nas are wild fowl, swans, gray, white, and a blackish-col¬ 
ored goose, mallards and canvas-back, lots of wild celery, 
red heads, gray ducks, blue-bills, sprig-tails, long-tails, 
widgeons, three kinds of teal, blue-wing, cinnamon, and ’ 
green wing, the first Darned teal mighty scarce; chujlatiox- 
es, gatiwells, spoonbills, ice ducks, and several other vari¬ 
eties whose names are to me unkhowu. There arc also 
brant, and on the coast many sea fowl. In the mountains 
are deer, California lions, cats, black, oiumunou, and griz¬ 
zly bears, big horn sheep, goats, gray squirrels, pigeons, J 
mountain quails, and rabbits, (may bo I’ll forget some of I 
them on paper, but may I be pi zoned it' 1 ever do in the 
woods. Los Angeles is a mighty civilized kind of a place, 
and there’s a powerlul sight of fishing to distract a man’s I 
attention). 
VVeusedto have many elk, hut now, except a few in. ] 
the Tulare country, they are used up. People live almos.; j 
everywhere, and game generally has a hard time. Of 
course there are places, thank God! where things are bet- I 
ter, and a man can get out of sight of somebody else’s ] 
smoke, aud out of hearing of si range rifles; but that ain’t I 
what I'm talking about just now. There’s some antelope I 
left. I saw u bunch ot about seven hundred head on the I 
J.icbre last fall. All our deer are black tail; of these there I 
are brush deer, wliich depend mostly on hiding to keep I 
out of the way, ranging generally to the foot hills in heavy 1 
brush, and the mountain deer, found on the mountain j 
ranges, and these never known to hide. Both look alike, I 
anti although the distinction is generally made, I am by j 
no meaus certain it is well founded, but rather incline to 
the opinion that they change Lheir habits to suit tlie local- 1 
ities in which they range. Thera is, however, 1 tniiik, a 1 
brush deer, although I am hot certain I ever killed one. J 
On tlie Mojave we often kill Die hurio doer, black-tailed, l 
but larger and of a stockier build than the deer first men- ] 
tinned, legs thicker, amt general appearance sliglit.lv re- *1 
sembling a jackass, from which circumstance it lakes I lie 1 
name (burro is Spanish, for jackass). Tliis species Of deer I 
is quite numerous in some porLions of Arizona. In the ! 
mountains we still-hunt altogether; on (lie plains and large I 
mesa* sometimes we have a run with fox hounds or grey¬ 
hounds. I've always hunted with a muzzle-loader, not 1 
worth money to anybody hut me; hut since I’ve been in I 
civilization I’ve got me a Bemlugton sporting, FI bore, I 
and I’m going In sorter lay Hie old gua away, and 1 kinder I 
bate it, too. , J 
Well, good nigbt. Oh! I’d like to forgot H; there’s 1 
slathers of trout iu the mouniain streams on the coast side 1 
slope. Eiv Gazadoh. I 
hm, Angdes, May 27th, 1876. 
FISHING AND SHOOTING IN ILLINOIS. I 
REeOr.I.F.CTlONS OF AN OLD SPORTSMAN—NO. 2. 
W HEN your correspondent landed in Chicago, in I 
1839, it was an ill-built town of 4,5110 inhabitants, j 
Willi unpaved streets, and neither gas or water supply, j 
West of Buffalo no railroads existed, and passengers and | 
goods came up the lakes by steamers. Do during tbe long I 
winters we were shut up from the world by ice barriers, 
and the mail from New York struggled along for ten days 
through tlie woods of Ohio aud the swamps of Michigan. 
There was hardly money enough iu town to pay the post- ■, 
age on letters (about six limes the present rales); we were I 
poor, but we were jolly. Among other sources of pleas- i 
ure which the old inhabitant fondly looks back upon, is I 
the abundance of game and fish—now, alas! among tie- t 
parted joys. I have seen woodcocks and ducks iu the 
sloughs, which lay about the corner of Wabash avenue aud 
Madison street. I have killed prairie chickeus on Twen¬ 
tieth street, and ducks On the soulli branch between 
Adams and Jackson streets. A friend of mine shot a lynx , 
just behind Wm. it. Ogden's garden ou Ontario street, 1 
aud bounced a wolf out of the long grass on Die pinole 
where Gale’s large Iron works are, in the west division of 
the cily, which lie killed. 1 think it was about 184! that 
the great circular deer drive took place, when fifty liou-o- 
men, with as many dogs, made a surround of all the doer 
between Blue lslami (now Washington Heights) and drove 
the whole herd, forty or fifty iu number, into tbe then 
southern part of the city, perhaps about Twentieth street, 
Ihcu into the lake, where many were shot- Deer wore 
thuu so numerous in Northern Illinois, that in one day’s 
hunt, about 1842, iu McHenry county, 1 saw at least fitly 1 
head, uml my companion killed five—two at one shot— 
witli a rifle. lie got them in line and put a ball through 
Tlie country about the Calumet River, twelve miles south 
of Chicago, abounded wilb game. DuckB in the rivers 
and sloughs iu immense numbers, plenty of grouse ou llio 
prairie, while lire woods abounded wilb partridges, quails, , 
and rabbits. In spring and fall the prairies were covered 
with plover ami curlew, while the marshes anti sloughs were 
full of snipe and woodcook. We had Agnd shots and good 
dogs in those days also. I kuew ohtjgS&ur sportsmen to. 
drive in Ms buggy to Fox Rivet iu .imaKi.T.joid 01 ' 1 !’ miles, 
and kill one hundred grouse by the y another of 
them kill eighteen out of twenty it he hac( 
