THE 



AMERICAN 



SPORTSMAN'S JOURNAL. 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, JUNE 21,1877- 



For Forest and Stream and Hod and Gun. 

 WESTERN WILD FOWL SHOOTING.' 



BY J. 8. YAK DYKE. 



"ViTAST the scenes that deeply, keenly thrill 

 ■"-*■ The sportsman's bosom, as o'er dale and hill 

 With throbbing heart and tingling nerve lie bounds 

 With pointer, seller, or the ringing hounds. 

 But few more grand and wild emotions raise 

 Thau oue that oft is seen in autumn days, 

 When first the surly blasts begin to howl, 

 And heaven's smile to change into a scowl. 



When droops the wild rice its once stately head, 

 And rush and reed and flag are sere and dead ; 

 When withered leaves ride swift on whistling gales, 

 The wild fowl for their journey spread their sails, 

 But pause awhile around some favorite place 

 Ere starting on their long and weary race. 



At such a time and spot our stand we take, 

 Close by the borders of some rice-fringed lake. 

 Wondrous and grand the scene tliat now unfolds, 

 And the astonished eye enchanted holds I 

 From every quarter of the great blue dome, 

 In countless throngs the wild fowls swiftly come, 

 Circling, rushing, darting, wheeling, dashing, 

 Towering, settling, in the water splashing. 

 High in the air, with stately, solemn wings, 

 .Slow sail the geese in long converging strings. 

 Still higher up, with proud, majestic pace, 

 The sand-hill cranes float by in easy grace, 

 While far above, in dignified array, 

 The swans are drifting on their southward way. 



Froi 

 That make tn 



y side 



The 

 The 



stle of t 



U'tl,:l!' 



ru's 



ted wood duck's squeal, 

 Lloth peal ! 



Tfie aw nwei ampettl ai 



As falls the night, they fl 

 The airresoundet'n w.tii their steady hum. 

 But we've not come to idly stand and gaze, 

 And fast and sure spouts forth the deadly blaze. 

 With rapid b:izz the broadbill by us whirls, 

 But In a trice hU Whistling pinion furls. 

 lu vain the blue wing plies his Whizzing wings, 

 The deathful hail across his pathway sings; 

 The lovely wood duck, with his plumage bright, 

 Whirls struggling down into the shades of night, 

 The watchful goose, that cautious.threads the air, 

 Droops neck and wings, as if in silent prayer, 

 And downward plunges with impetuous crash. 



In vain the mallard, with his wary eye 

 Doth seek, with vigorous "quack,'' to climb on high. 

 Too late his care 1 Too late his skyward dash ! 

 He downward thunders with a sullen splash. 



Waiting with patience till we give the word, 

 Our faithful clogvetrieves each fallen bird. 

 The trusty creature, having marked its fall, 

 Bounds through the reeds, however thick or tall ; 

 Although they fall where man could never stand, 

 This honest servant brings them to our hand. 

 The lake is cold ; its edges fringed with ice ; 

 But still he flounders on through tangled rice, 

 Heedless of comfort or the wintry Mast, 

 Toils shivering on until he gets the last. 



Then to our boat, and down tile-moonlit stream 

 We glide to camp, and soon the Are doth beam. 

 From drift wood piled on high, the cheery blaze 

 Shoots far and wide, and o'er the river plays j 

 And soon we gather round the festive hoard. 

 Laden with viands that would tempt a lord ; 

 Then round the Bre comes ' h ; sic al smoke, ' 

 The song, the story, or the spicy joke ; 

 And then to sleep upon our bed of reeds, 

 While fancy pictures I tu-m n nVs deeds. 



M §'W t° the Sfrth S ar k °f 



(Continued from June \Uh.) 



WE arrived at the inn shortly after dark, truly glad to 

 get our supper, for we had foolishly taken a Tery 

 scanty supply of food, and had been moving almost incessant- 

 ly on the hills and along the creek for fifteen hours. The 

 scenery along the North Fork of the Navarro River, as.I have 

 said before, is exceedingly wild, there being no signs of civi- 



•Between wild fowl shooting in the West and on the sea coast there 



lization for many miles, and but for a Solitary trail nothing to 

 show that human beings traveled through the valley. Exten- 

 sive fires have blackened the trees and eaten up the under, 

 growth in parts oi these great forests, causing a most desolate 

 appearance. This, however, is only found in comparatively 

 limited spaces adjoining the logging camps. 



The next day Uncle, B. and I traveled up stream, uncle on 

 horseback, we youngsters on foot. We walked along the 

 trail as far as a solitary farm house (ranch) where lives 

 queer old specimen of humanity, known as "Uncle Mo," a 

 regular old " Pike " from Missouri. Having consented to act 

 as our guide, he conducted us along a wild mountain trail to 

 11 point on the stream where uucle tied his horse and proceed- 

 ed to fish the creek (where we afterwards found he took 

 eleven good sized tvou ). Uncle Mo, B. and I then ascended 

 the ridges in search of deer. B. got one snap shot, but with- 

 out effect, and beyond this we saw nothing. We visited a 

 bear-trap and saw the remains of a monster black bear, 

 killed ten days previously. On our way back we had occa- 

 sion to walk along the most extraordinary ledges of rock, 

 creeping under low-growing boughs, and generally following 

 our guide over places which none but venturesome hunters 

 dare traverse. 



We returned to the little hostelry, and enjoyed a delicious 

 bath and swim in a long deep pool, in which, during my stay 

 at the North Fork House, I daily indulged. That night a 

 camping party arrived from the city, consisting of Mr. Rector, 

 of Oakland, and his brother, and Mr. Sweet. To M Re ctor 

 I had a letter of introduction from a friend in San Francisco, 

 who had told me of his intended visit. Accordingly next 

 morning I presented my letter^and, with B., was cordially 

 invited to join the party in a camping expedition to Ihe ridges 

 of the adjacent hills. So, having all things in readiness, we 

 bade farewell to uucle, leaving him to enjoy the sport afford- 

 ed by the trout stream, and taking two pack horses we started 

 for a spot well known to Mr. Rector, he being an old hunter, 

 familiar with that country in every direction. The distance 

 to our camping ground is about four miles. The ascent up 

 the bold hills was very severe. The spot selected is just 

 above a fine spring of water on the top of the ndge, com- 

 manding a marvelously fine view over the grand mountains 

 of red wood — a panorama not easily forgotten. As far as the 

 eye could reach is one magnificent succession of monster for- 

 ests, risiug'one above the other in nobility beyond description. 

 We pitched our tent upon a spot formed, as it were, b3 r nature 

 for a camping ground, surrounded by a belt of large redwood 

 trees, so grouped as to leave just sufficient space in the centre 

 for our large fine tent. Having hitched the horses, we set to work 

 to level off and^clear the ground before pitching our canvas. 

 We then worked hard with hatchets, cutting the tender youug 

 branches of redwood, which proved a capital foundation for 

 our sleeping berth. The camp being arranged according to 

 the most approved style, towards evening we all sallied forth 

 with our rifles in search of deer and bear if they should come 

 in our way, B. and I together, the rest in other directions. 

 W r e had not gone far when, descending a deep gorge, I saw 

 three deer ascending the other side. I fired several shots, and 

 B from another position dropped a young buck fawn. We 

 were conscious, from the motion of one of the deer, that she 

 was badly hit .- and, though we followed and saw quantities 

 of blood, and a small bone shot out of the leg, we did not suc- 

 ceed in overtaking our game. A little further along the ridge 

 B.. dropped a fine doe at the first shot. We returned to camp 

 before dark. B. and one of the others then started with a 

 horse, and brought home his two deer. Mr. Sweet also 

 bagged a doe. So we had three fine deer hanging in camp the 

 first night. Next day we all hunted the woods in different 

 directions, but failed to bag another deer. Sweet's shotgun 

 kilcd a number of quail (which were very numerous in 

 those parts) for our supper, and greatly did we relish our 

 meal after our long mountain climbs. Our table (most ad- 

 mirably fixed in true carpenter's style by Mr. Rector's bro- 

 ther) was spread with venison, quail, fried potatoes, apples, 

 peaches, coffee, etc., etc. After supper each evening we 

 sat encircled around the cheerful blaze of our camp fire, 

 smoking our segars and pipes, and telling each his stock of 

 yarns and anecdotes. And many were the hunting stories 

 told by the Messrs. Rector of their experience in the early 

 days of California. 



Next morning (Sept. 6) we all started forth after the timo- 



rous deer, and all returned to breakfast at about 8 o'clock 

 without any bag to report. Having myself done no execution 

 up to that time, I was naturally considering it about time that 

 I contributed my share. I was the first to leave the camp, 

 and entered the forest all alone. The rain had been falling 

 fast during the night, and still continued, thus improving 

 one's chances for a deer. The leaves and twigs, which, in 

 dry weather, warn the quick-eared deer of the hunter's ap- 

 proach, were that morning silent, and therefore I was able to 

 creep along comparatively unheard. I had not been out of 

 camp more than ten minutes when, standing in an open glade, 

 I perceived a fine doe situated about fifty yards from me, 

 looking earnestly and inquiringly at mo ; but as I raised my 

 rifle to fire, she, with one spring, darted down the valley out 

 of my sight. I sprang forward, and seeing the way the deer 

 had gone, I considered it prudent to make a circuitous trip 

 rather than follow the same trail. As I paused on the side 

 of the hill, I beheld the doe with a large fawn standing on 

 the opposite side. I fired and missed. The doe then ran for- 

 ward, and in so doing exposed her neck. Again I fired 

 (distance 200 yards), and that shot was instantly fatal. 

 The splendid creature fell dead, rolling some fifteen or 

 twenty feet down hill. In my intense excitement I rushed 

 down the steep incline, leaping over great fallen trees which 

 ordinarily 1 should have had great difficulty in crossing. But on 

 this occasion I thought no more of these giants than had they 

 been mere twigs. Down I went with frantic speed, and up 

 the opposite bank, fearing lest the dead deer might run away, 

 and thus deprive me of my victory 1 As I neared the fallen 

 victim the fawn sprang up, and had I been less excited no 

 doubt would have lain beside the mother. But foolishly I 

 thought of nothing but seeming the doe, so, after hurriedly dis. 

 charging my rifle at the retreating fawn without effect, I 

 turned to survey the body of my first deer ! There she lay 

 quite dead, the bullet having passed through her neck. And 

 what had that gentle beauty done that I, a savage hunter, 

 should have thus assailed ner ! These are thoughts whic'i to 

 many a sportsman must occur while looking into the sweet 

 and peaceful face, and at the graceful tapering limbs of the 

 fallen beauty. The deed was clone, and could not, even had I 

 regretted it, be undone. I therefore raised my big hunting 

 knife and commenced the usual work of cleaning my game. 

 On hearing the crack of my rifle, Mr. Sweet left the camp, and 

 answering to my call he kindly ascended the hill, and offered 

 his assistance, which to me was most acceptable. Shouldering 

 the game I marched in triumph to camp. A heavy burden 

 this would have proved under any other circumstances, but on 

 this occasion ft mere trifle ! I marched into camp waving my 

 hat and cheering till my very voice gave out. Many were the 

 congratulations offered. The Rectors, though old and ex- 

 perienced hunters, had, up to that time, bagged nothing. After 

 my exertions I was ready for a hearty breakfast, No. 3. I 

 felt as though a great weight had been removed from nvf mind, 

 for B. having been so successful, and I having up to that time 

 killed nothing, I had begun to be rather disheartened, fancy- 

 ing luck was against me. 



That afternoon B. left us on Ms homeward journey, his 

 business duties calling him back a day or two in advance of 

 me. He packed one of his and my deer on one of the horses 

 and started for the North Fork. That afternoon I took a new 

 route all alone, descending the ridge and passing down a stu- 

 pendous valley. I. saw two or three deer, having a shot at one 

 without apparent effect. Although I killed nothing there was 

 great excitement to me in creeping stealthily among those 

 splendid forests, perpetually on the qui we, the slightest 

 sound attracting my attention. And many a time did a gro- 

 tesque-shaped tree-stump to my excited imagination appear for 

 the first moment a living object. Upon thinking over my 

 adventures, of the difficult and dangerous climbings, the ex- 

 tent of ground traversed and the many obstacles overcome, I 

 seem to wonder wliile writing this in my calmer moments in 

 the city how I succeeded in accomplishing so much; and yet, 

 so great is the enjoyment of the sport, that I anxiously look 

 forward to and shall not be satisfied until I enjoy another out- 

 ing of the same kind. But to return to our camp on the ridge- 

 That evening a Mr. Call arrived from the city to join the 

 Rectors and Mr. Sweet according to agreement. B. met 

 him at the North Fork, and that evening conducted him 

 along the trail, pointing out our position on the ridge. Next " 

 day I hunted alone. While passing over a trail to the north- 



