April 19, 1883.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



227 



invariably, "Hardly; I Hani go." Change thi' subject, talk 

 a half hour (mother matters, get up to leave, and you hear 

 lh<: inquiry: "What is that yon said about a fount?" "Oh 

 nothing, you can't go, 1 mentioned it only out of politeness 

 and hare nearly matte other arrangement-'." Just as you are 

 ready to leave for the Meld. in stalks. Mud, fully accoutred, with 

 his fat legs stuck in his tioots, ready for a match which -would 

 ragout a Blackfoot Indian brave. "'Do you need any shells mid 

 \v;els lor (in: coming season?" "Hardly. Got plcnl v.' Send for 

 them and afterthey come tell him that they cost so much, and 

 he must pay. Out comes the money, audhe gets the articles. 

 "We arc going to shoot a I bulls in the meadow (his aiter- 

 uoou; will you be there?" "Hardly. I have no loaded 

 shells," After you have reached the' grounds, his tall form 

 is seen coming down the hill, belted with well loaded 10s, 

 and "Little Annie," bis 28-inch breech-loader, in his hand, 

 ready to try his twenty balls. And at these he shoots well 

 —when there is no sick lady in the neighborhood. jlerid.-, 

 this, he bus irrepressible curiosity and unbounded credulity. 

 If he sees you readiiur a newspaper, he wants to know the 

 subject engaging vour attention. If jrou have an old 

 shank bone in \ our hand he inquires what it is. If you pull 

 something from vour pocket aud turn round he is anxious 

 to learn what you have. Tell him that the shank bone is 

 a. "turkey yelper" and instantly he gets hold of it and 

 .sticks it in his mouth and makes saucers of his cheeks 

 trying to produce (he coveted sound. But, as before said. 

 Willi all his harmless oddities, he is a capital fellow — one 

 of nature's noblemen— and in all (kings 'which he undtr- 

 fcakes, after you get him at if, ready to do his lull part. 



We have good guns and fair dogs, and. besides, can oc- 

 casionally hag sonic game when we hud it: but, alas, it is 

 scarce, aud seemingly becoming scarcer. If the diminulion 

 continues. Dopant and Hazzard and Tallin & Rand and the 

 "American Wood Powder" companies will soon have ro ex 

 claim : ' 'Our occupation's gone!" As to Bob White aud the 

 woodcock and the snipe, but few years will pass before it 

 can be said: "Their name has perished from the earth." 

 We shall still, possibly, have some robing larks and doves; 

 but 1 have nb faith i'u inventing a game bird out of the 

 guinea fowl. I know no remedy for this: if 1 did I should 

 tell it. and gain (he gratitude of many good people, 



The writer expects to have some enjoyment hi the month 

 ot May ut Waceamaw Lake, lie has an invitation from a 

 courteous and agreeable gentleman, who lives upon its 



m,':,, to join bis friends, A. S. ML and J. J. D.. make his 

 hospitable house his and their home, and have all the sport 

 we can get iu taking bream from the water, eating them at 

 the ruble, and otherwise making himself pleased with what- 

 ever the locality can afford. I may, on some future occa- 

 sion, find time to write an account of the pleasures of which 

 I hope now to partake. Wells. 



March SI, 1883, 



A BIT OF WINTER SUNSHINE. 

 0*PBI}"G is coming. The winter has held us in a steady 

 (J grip and March has been much like his predecessors, 

 but the snow is silently stealing away and ere long we will 

 have plenty of open water in our lakes. For a month past 

 the Familiar -wnistle of the mallard's wings has sounded 

 dibove our heads, the crows have cawed for spring, the 

 chipmunks and red squirrels have displayed unusual 

 activity, and nature lias seemed to he gettiwTOua "good 

 ready" lor spring business and spring sports. The "run" of 

 the pickerel will soon take place, and many of them will lie 

 speared or shot on the marshes and in the rivers. A good 

 many have been taken through the ice this winter, mostly 

 on the lower lakes. Little fishing has been done here 

 except by the boys, and their aspirations cease with perch. 



It seems to me that our Grand Traverse winters have 

 some decided advantages over those of some other districts 

 further south where I have lived. 1 don't like the con- 

 stant succession of freezing and thawing weather with its 

 detestable mud. which in Central Illinois and many other 

 places makes it a hard matter to carry a pair of boots 

 across a cornfield when you happen to be looking for 

 quail. Our ground has not frozen this winter, and the 

 deer could easily reach their food at an time; in fact. 

 some of the spring vegetation has a good start under the 

 snow. 



1 one day took down my ami, and walked down to the 

 river. The poodle followed" me, in order to sec that all was 

 right, that being his chief employment nowadays, as he is 

 geeting on in years, and has assumed the principal charge 

 of the family. He is called "poodle," not so much from 

 his breed, as from his diminutive size— he weighs ninctv- 

 cight pounds . 



The poodle sat upon his haunches aud saw nit lay my gtiu 

 in its rest, and shove the boat into the water; and then as '1 he- 

 paddle dipped and the little craft shot away, he rose, satis- 

 fied that his duty had been fulfilled, and 'returned to the 

 house. 



How spicily pungent, is the aroma from the freshly cut 

 pines, as we pass a small clearing on the river's bank. 'How 

 pleasant the sunshine, glinting from the edges of the ice 

 which borders the swift current, and falling amid the dense 

 masses of shadow, cast by (lie tangled cedars: on the virgin 

 snow. Truly, it is good "to be here. The scream of a blue 

 jay comes from above, aud a shadow flits across our walcry 

 path. Aha, old fellow, you aud your comrades have kept 

 pretty quiet through Ihe long winter, it is time you were on 

 the warpath again. It has often amused me 'to note the 

 difference between the actions of a wild jay. and of one 

 which had become accustomed to the presence of mankind 

 through kindly treatment. During several winters, I had a 

 shelf attached' to one of the pillars of my piazza, ou which 

 we kept food for the winter birds. They seldom came 

 before the snows, and when they did at last put in an ap- 

 pearance it was comical to see 'ihe air of confidence with 

 which an old beneficiary of the institution would alight 

 and begin pecking at the food, while his companions, more 

 accustomed to the. slings and arrows of outragoiis boys, 

 than to kindness, would hold aloof, perhaps requiring two 

 or three visits to accustom them to the feeling that they were 

 ate so near our windows. 



While I have been busy with these recollections, mv boat 

 swings wide in the current, and crushes the delicate fringe 

 Of ice-work along I be trunk of a half-submerged cedar. In 

 stanlly. a splash, anil up from the other side of a matted 

 tangle of logs and brush, with cry ami flutter, riselwo beau- 

 tiful mallards a hundred yards away, with the green head of 

 the drake shining iu the sun, us he takes his way across the 

 :i lake. Aha! So there is life amid the .snow and ice 

 alter all— aud see. that mink gliding along the surface of (he 

 water like a serpent over the land. And wdiat is that in the 

 edge of Ihe open water of the river where it shows clear and 



black against the snow? Yea, three of them, winter ducks 

 but I believe they have seen me. Yes. there they go; well 

 nevermind. I didn't expect any game, but just came ou 

 for air and exercise. Then remarked the "still small voice :' 

 "That being the case, why did vou pull on 'era with thi 

 left barrel at extra long range? Answer me that." There 

 may have been somethiug in the query, but I'm all out of 

 practice anyhow. 



But soft— they have turned, and another shell slides into 

 the barrel, and on they come before the wind down river. 

 They swerve to the left, and just brush the tops of the tall 

 cedars as they whistle past, but the old ten-bore swings well 

 forward of their line cf flight, and the heavy reports ring 

 across Hie echoing ice. Crash: crash! through the cedars 

 —there you arc, mv friends, and uow I come to think of it, 

 I did mean to bring home a dinner, if I could. I remember 

 saying something to that effect before 1 left the house-. X. 

 Central Lake. Michigan, April 7. 



TWO BEAR HUNTS IN FLORIDA. 



11V NED l!t:.NTI.KK. 



DOCTOR HENSHAEL'Sintcresliiig descriptions of his 

 winter cruise iu the Flower Laud of Ponce de Leon 

 carried me back ou Memory's tireless wing to four years; of 

 hard service in the Seminole war, from 1838 to 18-12, and 

 over the very grounds, only much more of them, which the 

 Doctor covered without peril, except from wind and wave. 

 When 1 was (here the rifle of the keen-eyed red man rung 

 out the death knell of monya brave man, and not a step 

 could lie taken, even in the very outskirts of the few towns 

 iu the Territory, thai was free from deadly peril. 



Many persons were Rilled and scalped within sight of St. 

 Augustine, and the road from there to Jacksonville is yet 

 lined with the graves of victims to the Indians' hate. 



In the Everglades, where the Doctor made one visit, 1 have 

 spent many watchful, active weeks hunting out the cunning 

 foemen. and the Big Cypress. Okochobee and (be whole uef- 

 work of lagoons and islands on the eulire coast were as 

 familiar to nie then as the streets of New York have been 

 since. 



But to my stoiy. Iu 18-10 we captured a sub-chief named 

 Chiee, who had been outlawed by the tribe for running 

 awa> with another chief's wife. He was a tighter, as one of 

 our men killed outright by his rifle and another mortally 

 wounded proved when we took him. 



Our taking him alive was ordered, for the purpose of se- 

 curing him for a guide, for it was thought, outlawed as he 

 wasamong his own people, he would not hesitate to lead us to 

 their camps and hiding places. But he was true to his race. 

 Though we gave him life and treated him and his squaw 

 and baby well, he never showed us an Indian camp until 

 after it was deserted, nor put us ou a trail fresh enough to 

 follow with a chance of success. 



Of course he was kept under guard when in camp, but I 

 used sometimes to take him out in my canoe to see him 

 spear fish. He could see a tish further and strike it more 

 surely with the grains than any one else I ever have seeu. 



One day I sat in the stern of my canoe, my rifle between 

 my knees, while 1 used my puddle to steer aud propel the 

 cypress, Chiee standing up forward, spear in hand, as I ran 

 the canoe along the outer shore of Upper Matacumbe, the 

 next island on the reef above Indian Key. 



It was turtle-laying season, and suddenly a huge black 

 bear stalked out on the beach on the hunt for turtle eggs — a 

 favorite food with them. 



He was not one hundred yards off, and Chiee, who was 

 nearest., as the boat was bows ou, whispered: 



"Give me gun— me- shoot bear!" 



Thoughtlessly and very foolishly I reached the rifle for- 

 ward, and in a second lie had it iu his hand. 



Then, as he cocked it, he gave me a look that chilled 

 every yeiu in my body. It said as plain as words could have 

 expressed it: 



"I'll kill and scalp you and then paddle off a free man!" 



We were out of reach of help— I really thought my time 

 hud come. 



But through life a rare gift— stoical presence of mind— has 

 been mine. Scared as I really was, 1 did not show it; but 

 quietly, with a smile on my face, said: 



"Shoot the bear, Chiee, or he'll turn aud get off iia the 



wooiis:" 



Perhaps he thought of the scarlet blanket I. had given 

 his squaw and the nice flannel I bad bomrht for the papoose 

 to roll iu— perhaps he hated to leave them behind, as he 

 must have done had he shot me. Any way the stern look 

 of fiery hate left his visage. He muttered: 



' 'Good ! You no 'fraid of Chiee ."' 



Then turning, he raised the rifle, to his shoulder, held it 

 hut a second for aim. tired, and the bear fell, shot stone 

 dead— the half-ounce yager ball going through his head just 

 below the base of his ears, the very spot for sure work. 



Handing me the empty rifle, which I quickly reloaded 

 and kept iu my own hand thereafter, Chiee paddled to the 

 beach, aud we soon had a four-hundred-pound bear in the 

 canoe and were heading back for camp ou Indian Key. 



My next hear was killed only three days later. 



Jim Eagan. one of our pilots, who had been down to Key 

 West (o see his family, came back with a dog, which he said 

 was good fox bear, deer or any other four-footed game. 



I thought I'd try it, for the beach was all tracked up with 

 bear signs, the animals ranging there iu the night for dead 

 tish, turtle eggs. etc. 



So I look the dog aud half a dozen seamen iu one of our 

 boats aud went up to the upper end of Matacumbe and let 

 the dog out, following him myself with a couple of men 

 armed with muskets. I carried my double-barreled Man- 

 ton, an English gun, flint-lock originally, very old, but the 

 best ban-els I ever shot through. 



The dog w^as off as soou as he touched ground, yelping at 

 every jump, running through the tliick growth of sea grape, 

 mahogany and I know not what other trees, at a rate which 

 left us far behind. 



But soon we heard sharp, continuous barking, and one of 

 my men said he had freed the game, 



We pushed on. and in a distance of perhaps eighty or 

 ninety rods came up to where we could see the dog 'tearing 

 around at the foot of a thick branched tree not over twenty 

 feet high, and perhaps (en indies in diaineler at the root. 



Getting closer we saw to our astonishment, one old bear, 

 a very bflge one; and two cubs about half grown. 



I was but a boy in years, though an acting lieuteuaut in 

 rank, ami as soon as I got up in easy range 1 told the men 

 lo each pick a cub and I'd riddle the old one. 



I had thirteen number one buckshot iu each barrel ami 

 had no idea the old bear could take that dose and live long 

 enough to growl. 



We all three fired together. One cub fell dead, the other 

 scored a clean miss, while my bear came down just as full 

 of tight as she was of lead. " 



The dog was under her as she came, and one terrific hug 

 Witt her forepaws and a dig with her hinder ones finished 

 the poor cur outright. Then she rose and made for me. I 

 was busy shoving down (mother load in my gun, but she 

 would have been on me before I had the wad down, had not 

 one of my men shoved his bayonet upon his gun and met 

 her with its full length ol steel between the forelegs as she 

 rose for a hug. 



It took two or three thrusts to disable her, and by that 

 time ] had my gun reloaded, and I gave the second cub, yet 

 in the tree, a quietus in the shape of thirteen buckshot rigid 

 in his face as he looked clown savagely at the slayers of his 

 mamma and brother. 



We were a proud set of hunters, you bet, We had been 

 gone but a little over an hour and went back with three 

 bears and no loss but one mangy dog. 



Jim Eagan vowed he'd never forgive me for letting him 

 '"■killed. But a five-dollar gold piece and the pelt of the 

 old bear satisfied him, and he smoked the pipe of peace from 

 a plug of "old navy" that came from the same hands. 



Next time Til tell you how the wild hogs treed me on 

 Sanybel Island, near the mouth of the Calobsahatchie, and 

 ot killing something beside a deer on a fire-hunt on the same 

 island. 



A HUNTING HORN. 



II. iW to MARK, BUT NOT TO BLOW, YOttK OWN UOHN. 



YQT are pleased to say to a correspondent from Bing- 

 hampton, N. Y.. who makes some inquiries as to blow- 

 ing horns, that I can probably give him all needed informa- 

 tion upon the subject, for I 'am well skilled in that line of 

 mechanism. It does not become me to "blow my own horn" 

 m regard to it. but I can safely say that I have the capacity 

 to make one which is good enough for inc. and can give 

 anyone who is a born mechanic such instructions as will 

 enable him to be successful without "spoiling a horn." 



While ou a visit to a well-known city, situated nut far 

 from Mason and Dixou's line, I became acquainted with 

 non. John E. Kenna. now a Senator from West Virginia, 

 Both of us being fond of the gun and its accompaniments, 

 we naturally drifted into subjects connected with a sports- 

 man's life and accoutrements. Kenna is a fox-hunter, and 

 all fox-hunters ought to have a horn. He asked if 1 could 

 tell him where he could get a good one. I asked him if he 

 had any mechanical genius, and being told (hat he could at 

 least make a hen-coop, I stated that I could easily give him 

 the desired information— "Make it yourself." I gave him 

 the instructions, and when I met him again, several months 

 thereafter, he invited me to call at his room and see a speci- 

 men of his handicraft. I did so, aud he exhibited to me 

 two horns of his own make which were quite equal in tone 

 and finish to any which ever came from my practiced 

 hand. 



And now for the instructions. Get a steer horn, from 14 

 to 18 inches long, not over four years' growth. Let it he 

 as gently tapering as possible. With a small wire, measure 

 the length of the hollow, and mark on the outer side where 

 the solid horn commences. Saw off (he tip, about an inch 

 and u fourth above that. Force a small piece of pointed 

 timber in the horn, and nail it, so that in working you can 

 keep the horu confined and steady. Then draw from the 

 tip down t he horn, for an inch or more, four Hues along the 

 center of the horn. Now fasten the horn bv the piece of 

 wood in a vice, and with a small bit. bore the hole, using 

 your lines to guide you. This will enable you to hit the apex 

 of the interior core. After this is done, saw around the horn, 

 at the base of what you want for the funnel, and with a 

 drawing-knife aud a wood rasp and a sharp knife and sand- 

 paper, shape it to suit yourself. My idea is to have it a srentle 

 funnel shape. When all Ihis is done, if the hole is too small, 

 it may be reamed out with a beveled bit, Take out the 

 piece of timber, and try the tone. If it suits, cut off the butt 

 end, and all is right. If too coarse intone, then take off a hair 

 inch at a time, until you are satisfied. If you wish to polish 

 it, rub il with a wooleu rag, tallow and powdered charcoal. 



If your correspondent will follow these directions and 

 lads, I will be ready to "qualify" that nature never meant 

 him for a mechanic, and if that, is his trade he had better 

 quit it and go at somethiug else. I succeeded in my first 

 effort, and have the horn now. It is as good an one as ever 

 was pressed to a huntsman's lips. This" horn was made in 

 Arkansas in 1856. 1 have made many since that time, and 

 they are scattered around among my friends in this State 

 aud South Carolina, the disciples of Nimrod, who often 

 make them ring over hill and vale, at the opcuimi and close 

 of a hunt. 



Some years ago I had I he pleasure of a hunt in one of the 

 seaboard counties, and there met a plain, but worthy old 

 fellow, who had become possessed of the idea that he* was 

 "called" to blow the horn of Zion. I thought then and 

 think now that he was laboring under a gross error as 

 to the author of his mission. That hunt and some of 

 its incidents I have heretofore narrated in the columns 

 Of the Porkst AND STREAM. He had a rusty old horn, 

 whose tone was very much like thnt of many I have 

 heard in our e. untry. about the hour of 12 M.,used to call the 

 laborers from the field for the purpose of "refreshment.'" 

 One sound was as good as another for that. 1 felt kindly 

 toward the old man, and promised to present him with one, 

 which would not only look better, but sound better. So', 

 about two months thereafter, I forwarded it to my friend, Col.' 

 TV, to be delivered. He got it on a Saturday, about 8 o'clock 

 in the morning, and immediately sent his son with it. The 

 preacher's horse was already saddled to take him to a place 

 about ten miles off, where he had an "appointment" for that 

 day. When he got the horn he put on his spectacles and 

 looked at it all over. Then he put it to his mouth and blew, 

 with short intermissions, for nearly half an hour. Placing 

 it. iu a drawer, he mounted his steed, met his hearers, but 

 held forth that day with a sermon a full hour shorter than 

 usual, so as to enable him to get to his horn again. So soon 

 as ho reached home and stabled his nag. he cot out the musi- 

 cal instrument and made the woods echo with its cadences. 

 At hast this is the tale which was told to me. I incline, how- 

 ever, to think that the facts were somewhat highly colored. 



1 may as well say that I Ihink no spoilsman's hoYn shoidd 

 he longer than I welve inches. A short horn is so much 

 more easily handled in the woods than a long one, and be- 

 sides has, "to my ear, much more music in it. 



If your correspondent alluded to desires a pretty horn, 

 and to keep it so, he must not let it rust. That it will do. 

 unless he gives it attention. It should be dried always after 

 a hunt, with soft flannel, and rubbed with tallow occasion- 



