124 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



| Sept. 13. 18S3. 



not form part of that camp dinner, for the lake contained no 

 fish, I believe, and wb did not care to hunt the unknown 

 country for brooks, 



After dinner I lit my briarwood and sat on a rock by the 

 shore to watch tlie sun set over the lovely lake. A loon cry 

 in.LT at intervals in a far off cove was the only sound heard ir 

 that great silence. The guide was busying himself mean 

 while in "backing'" a common stable "lantern with bark, 

 ami arranging the jack staff in the bow of the old dugout 

 near by. 



"^ow, I'll go up and fix your gun," said Diek; and, ex- 

 amining that favorite piece by the camp-tire, when 1 return 

 from a half hour's smoke and reverie in watching tin? after- 

 glow and hoping to ealeh a glimpse of some drinking deer 

 on the opposite shore, I find a button of tallow covering the 

 shotgun sight. "Now, remember, shoot low this time," 

 said Diek, having in mind aline buck missed on Beaver Lake 

 a few nights before by mv overshooting. "Don't ever shoot 

 for the head nor between the eyes when you kin seethe 

 body. Yours will be Ihe first (ran shol on this lake this year, 

 and the shores, as you saw as we came along, were all tracked 

 up." 



It was just dark when the dugout glided noiselessly from 

 the shore! leaving gloom and darkness behind the radius of 

 our lantern, stive where the dying camp-fire flickered 

 among the frees. Clumsy and aboriginally crude as was our 

 craft, still, there being no wind, it paddled very easily. ,\ly 

 attentive guide had nailed a cleat from gunwale to gunwale, 

 against which 1 leaned, and had filled the bottom with 

 balsam tips. Then that peculiar dreaminess and retrospec- 

 tion — the attendant of night shooting — began to steal over 

 me. Gliding past the silent hills, looming in silhouette 

 against the starry sky, with no moon to detract the deer 

 from the baleful brilliancy of the jack light, while the long 

 drawn quavering of the screech owl comes from afar off on 

 the darksome hill, the dugout rustled through the rushes, 

 searing the gnawing muskrat from his meal and causing 

 him to leave his repast of water grasses with an alarming 

 splash ; and the meanwhile we were listening for the distant 

 cow-line splashing which is to indicate the deer, and when 

 once heard is mistaken for nothing else. 



"Hist!" whispered Diek. Tes, elearaeross the lake is that 

 pludge, pludge. in the shallows among the h'ly pads; and the 

 hollow log swims noiselessly and is headed across the dark 

 expanse of waters. Louder and louder becomes the splash- 

 ing, then it. ceases. 'Do you see him?" whispered Dick. I 

 strain my eyes but see nothing. A few more sweeps of the 

 paddle and a white form looms up shadowy and indistinct 

 within the outmost pale of the jack. I know now that 1 am 

 near enough. Dick sees me raise the gun so that the 

 muzzle conies into the radiance of the light, for the move- 

 ment of the canoe has stopped. There stands the phantom- 

 like form with the glowing eyes. 1 see the whitened fore- 

 sight on the place 1 deem to "be the chest and pull the trigger. 

 Astreak of fire flashes over the water, a heavy fall, and a 

 Struggling in the water is heard while the report is thunder- 

 ing sway among the hills. ' ' You got him :" shouts Dick. I 

 tremble with the excitement of the moment, forgetful of 

 aught else. "A doe," shouts my guide, as the animal springs 

 up and is making for the shore. "Y r ours killed her, she 

 won't, reach shore." But wanting to be sure of my prize J 

 sight just back of the shoulder as she is running past me. 

 thirty" yards away, and the second shot drops her in about a 

 foot of water. At the second report another deer which had 

 been feeding unseen rushed out to the shore and we could 

 bear its dainty hoofs hammering up the mountain side until 

 the startled animal deemed himself safe, when he gave forth 

 several shrill whistles. 



The lantern was put out by the explosion of the gun so 

 close to it. I carefully made my way to it on m\ r l«nees, 

 and wasted fifteen matches in trying to light it with my 

 shaking hands, and we only succeeded in getting it alight 

 when 1 passed it to Diek, who reached for it with his pad- 

 dle. We found the dead doe, and pulled her as near the 

 shore as possible, and then started 1o paddle around the 

 length of those wild shores of which we had heard so much. 

 Not to shoot any more, for we had all the meal we could 

 carry to the home camp, but merely to see how many deer 

 we could tind feeding in that wild lake. 



And now came a remarkable episode in the annals of the 

 night shooter, but which is true to a word. We had pad- 

 dled Imrelv two hundred yards from where I killed the 

 deer when' we heard another one walking among the grasses 

 at the head of the lake. "I'll run in," said Dick, "and see 

 how near we can get to- ft." The moss-covered log rustled 

 through the rushes, with the weird half circle of light spread- 

 ing shoreward with each sweep of the silent paddle, and 

 again the white outline of deer seems to grow out of (he 

 gloom ahead. Spluge! splash! if is walking toward us. 

 Now it stops, and in the full glare of the head-light we see 

 a beautiful fat doe, her coat beginning to assume the blue 

 tint of the winter covering. With head outstretched she 

 gazes earnestly at the lantern, while we sit silently 

 and admiringly in the impenetrable gloom enshrouding the 

 dugout behind the light. After satisfying her curiosity 

 she turns to feed and the canoe steals upon her. Now 

 she is watching her graceful shadow, cast by the light, on 

 the lily pads and grassy water. Another quick stroke with 

 the paddle and 1 prod her in the ribs with my gun. At the 

 hist punch she stood like a beautiful statue. At the second 

 — I would stroke her with my hand, but 1 fear she, waking 

 from her astonished trance, would kick over our dugout in 

 her terror — she gives one great bound, causing our log to 

 pscillate violently and showering us with cold spray, and 

 then we hear her hounding up the hill, then silence, broken 

 soon, however, by the loud laugh of Bhieh. who emphasized 

 most vehemently" that that was the closest he ever got to a 

 deer. But the "words were hardly uttered before another 

 <j eer — it looked like a buck — which had been the fascinated 

 and unnoticed observer of our performance, rushed from the 

 wafer not more than thirty yards from us, and was soon 

 whist ling and stamping on the fronting hillside. 



So much for the deer at Little Indian. My short experi- 

 ence has not, proven to me that the Adirondack regioi i 

 the one of cigar stumps and cartridge shells that it has been 

 averred to be. We then got the doe to camp and dressed it 

 that night, and in the morning we regaled ourselves with 

 theprouiiscd venison. 



We started for the home camp about eight, o'clock, pad- 

 dling the dugout to the spot, we found it. Then came the 

 long tramp between Indian and Beaver lakes, made longer 

 and harder by our burden, the hind quarters of the fat doe — 

 she proved a dry one, /.«., showed no signs of having had 

 fawn that year. "The distance was but half traveled when 

 it began to rain as I have seldom seen it. Frequently I had 

 to lower the muzzle of my gun to let the waterout after car- 

 rying it upward for a rest. The blaze was frequently lost 



L-dieal student 

 ,- recognizing the 

 e had made into 

 it street. "What luck 



on account of the deep gloom hanging over the forest, aud 



it was one o'clock" or more when wednerged upon the sandy 

 beach of Beaver Lake, where we had left our skiff Ihe pre- 

 vious morning. Across the lake, where many a deer is shot 

 in early August, and, 1 regret to say, in early June, we pad- 

 filed to the end of the carry leading over to Moose River. 

 Three quarters of a mile walk through a fairly open path 

 found us on the swollen Moose. Here two shots from the 

 rifle were answered by a like signal from camp, and we 

 waited for the boat to come up after us. 



"Well, you've got one," said Fred Stevenson, the hand 

 somest guide about Blue Mountain 

 well, as he pulled ashore. "A doe 

 shape of the daiutv hoofs, which I 

 a gun rack by Wallace, of Willi: 



here?" I asked. "Nothing but troutaud bullfrogs' legs," he 

 answered, a., we packed the boat. 



Picking our way through the floating Iocs, we soon saw 

 the welcome smoke floating above the wooded elevation on 

 which our camp stood ; and rounding the bend of the river 

 the camp-fires were seen flashing a bright welcome out of the 

 dark, rainy afternoon. 



1 said camp-fires, for there were two, and they lighted up 

 a comfortable picture, of the comforts of wild life to be had 

 even on a rainy day. One burned in front of a medium 

 sized A tent, in the opening of which, seated on the thresh- 

 hold log, was the Dominie, in knee breeches and "wide 

 awake" hat. Busy was he in greasing a pair of enormously 

 thick shooting boots, and few would have recognized the 

 eminent New York divine, with his bronzed face half hidden 

 by a two weeks' beard. The tent faced a large, open camp, 



hich was the quarters of the 

 seen behind the roaring fire, above 

 pot and kettle from the baker. Wat 

 tumbled blankets, pack baskets, ril 

 Between "both fires," but on a poin 

 was a lent fly, under which was the i 

 us for dining purposes. A cold sprit 

 der Ihe mossy roots of a giant trt 

 creek, formed' by its overflow to jo 



td whose interior, 

 rttfcli hung (he coffee 

 a confused medley of 1 



!S, clothes and boots. 

 toward a wooded hill. 

 ide (able which served 

 ' bubbled up from uu- 

 ; and across the little 

 the Mi 



other bark shed," under which the dcc.rhouuds -were 1 



Dwyer Daniels, our olhcr guide, was cleaning some trout 

 on the floating landing, and he held up a couple of one- 

 pounders as we ran alongside, the principal result of the 

 Dominie's catch that morning in the cold pools of the river, 

 where many such fish are taken, especially early in the 

 season. 



Many and delightful were the days, both before and after 

 our expedition to Little Indian, spent around and at the 

 camp. The deer drives — watching nearly all day on the 

 wild banks of the beautiful stream, listening to the far-off 

 baying of the hounds from some dark vaTlev among the 

 hil'ls; and the fishing— being paddled in a skiff to cast the 

 dee]) pools in which the river abounds, and which is for 

 large brook trout one of the best streams in the Adirondacks. 

 Mostly "all in the golden sunshine" were those days by that 

 hemlock and tamarack sheltered stream, and in cool Septem- 

 ber, and have come to me often since in the dreaminess of 

 recollection. Venison, partridge, trout, were always abun- 

 dant with us. And bullfrogs' legs were always on hand. 

 thanks to Master Paul, the Dominie's son. a bright little lad 

 who had ere this camping season brought down his buck, 

 and who is a very promising shot wilh a rille. He may have 

 killed another before this is printed, lor the Dominie and 

 Patd are again about to start for the Cranberry Lake region, 

 with Mitchel Sabbattis, the Indian, and his two sons, as 

 guides. Would I were with them. 



The Moose River country is not accessible from Blue 

 Mountain Lake by canoe and carry, but by tedious teaming, 

 giving it, however, the benefit o! being 'out of the general 

 sporting round. 



We broke camp at noon on our last day. paddling our 

 traps up (lie river two miles away, to the 'landing of "Pa 

 Brown," at whose cabin, in Indian clearing, we stopped 

 all night in order to start out early on the morrow. Had 1 

 "Stoddard's Guide" before me I could easily trace out our 

 course, but the chief points from Moose River to Blue Moun- 

 tain, easily recognizable on the map, are "Pa Brown's' "Lish 

 Camp's Hotel cm Moose Lake, ten miles further out, "Head- 

 quarters." "Ma Brown's," then Cedar River, and so around 

 to Blue Lake. 



It was on the afternoon of our third day's journeying, owing 

 to the breaking down of the wagon, when we reached camp. 

 We went out much more expeditiously, reaching Prospect 

 House the morning after leaving old Brown's, who made us 

 all sick with some vile truck he served us. 



It was a perfect September morning when we reached the 

 Prospect, with just a tinge of ftustiness in the air— the relict 

 of a really cold dotible-hhinketed night which comes always 

 there after an evening's enjoyment or Ihe huge log fires on the 

 andirons in the queen Ah«e fireplaces of the great hotel, 

 which is one of the pleasautest, even if the largest, hostelry 

 for headquarters for shooting and fishing f have ever visited. 

 The mist curling up from the calm blue waters of (he lake 

 revealed the sandy rocky sear on grand Blue Mountain. 



■seated buckboard with guide 



deer- 



Of „ 



hounds, skins and antlers, was the object of attention of the 

 whole piazza; and beyond was beautiful Blue Lake with its 

 wooded islands and grouse haunted shores, where even the 

 timid 'doe aud fawn are yet seen occasionally to drink 

 toward eventide in some island-hid corner; aud the loon 

 weirdly calls from some wild cave when the night shades lie 

 black over the lily pads The region is thus full of sporting 

 associations. At early morning one is awakened— not too 

 soon, however, to enjoy the too short day, if one be stay- 

 ing at one of the hotels' on the lake— by the whistle of the 

 Baguette steamer leaving the wharf laden with guide boats 

 and canoes on her deck. Kuickerboekered, Scotch-capped men 

 stand about and gun and rod cases form a conspicuous por- 

 tion of the baggage. Sometimes a deer is driven into Lto- 

 wana or Eagle (adjoining) lakes; and some monarch of the 

 forest is frequently killed in sight of the late home of Ned 

 Buutline, and brought to one of the hotels for the examina- 

 tion of the guests. Aud wonderful are the comments to he 

 heard thereon from the featherbed-lounging, would-be sports- 

 men regarding antlers, coat, and like trophies for moun- 

 ting. Frank Warwick. 



N'bimi SUlkm. ft v. 



Proposed Bo Ft-VLo Reservation. — The Helena (Moul.) 

 Urralii says that if the Government wishes to preserve a 

 natural ami suitable park for the remnant of buffalo, the 

 place is that portion of Montana from the crest of the main 

 range of the Rocky Mountains to the eastern border of the 

 Territory, and north of (he Marias and the Missouri River. 

 ii is DOW mainly an Indian reservation, but the Indians are 

 few in number and do not use it forany purpose. 



MASSACHUSETTS GAME NOTES. 



THE prospect for quail shooting td 

 vicinity is very good. II 



young, fully grown 

 could scarcely fly. 

 twenty. It contained 

 and the other was con 

 young quail are not a 

 last season at this time 

 destroyed by a In 



fully ; 



quit.; 



' sto 



Ml at this place and 

 started several bevies of 

 found a large brood that 

 (arted a covey of about 

 s one-half was roll grown 

 Her. From what f learn 

 i this year as they were 

 mlicr of young ones were 

 July, 'llie next moru- 



la", after Ihe storm several were found that were nol able to 

 walk. 



Ruffed grouse are more plentiful than (hey have been b.r 

 years. At this place and others along the cape the grouse 

 will decrease tor nearly a certain number of years, aud then 

 suddenly become quite plentiful again. We notice with sad 

 regret licit they become scarcer every time, aud are never am 

 plentiful again as they were before,. What is it that can 

 the decrease in the large numbers there used to be about 

 here? It is not because they are killed, because in some sec* 



ethe 



tions, 



as in plaei 



like to hear fro 



subject. 



Friday, Sept. 1 

 black duck shoot' 



not shot at all, they become 

 they are gunned continually. 1 should 

 l some of your correspondents on this 



the first day ol the open season for 

 Several parties wore on hand at the 

 Cliff Pond, (he best pond in this vicinity for ducks. Your 

 correspondent was with one of the parties, aud although we 

 had out a goodly number of live decoys, not a duck" came 

 into the pond during the day. One crowd of sportsmen (hat 

 were al the pond to-day shot twenty-live ducks there Ihe 1st 

 of September last year. The pond is not, large, and there 

 are so many gunners shooting from stands on all sides of 

 the pond in the open season that they have driven the ducks 

 to other ponds, and not » duck has been seen in the pond 

 this season. 



The shore bird shooting has not, been up to flic average 

 this season. There was a small flight of chicken plover; 

 brown backs and jack curlew along the first of the month. 

 Quite a number were shot at Chatham. Several large flocks 

 of golden plover passed ovci here on the 29th lilt., but as (he 

 wind was blowing hard from the northeast only a lew scat- 

 tering ones stopped, if we could get a heavy southeast 

 storm now -we would have some very good plover shooting. 

 Two sickle-bill curlew were seen here on the 27th ult. This 

 is a very rare bird along this shore of late years. A few 

 yellow-legs, grass birds and beetle heads are seen on the 

 meadows, but not enough to pay one to go after them. The 

 boys here are shooting ring-necks aud peeps along the shore 

 anil flats. 



Since writing I he above I learn that fifty -two golden plover 

 were shot at Eastham on the 20th ult. by several Sportsmen, 



Ejht Bukwster, Barnstable County. Mass. CliKSTtat. 



During the month of August very little shooting has been 

 done in this vicinity. Woodcock" have not been plenty, 

 and therefore if a man was disposed td be honest and let, the 

 partridges alone there has been little inducement to l p o out. 

 Some very good men are so constituted that they cannot re 

 sist temptation. The law permits woodcock shooting in 

 August. They go out with honest intentions, hunt several 

 hours for woodcock and find none, the dog points, a brood 

 of young partridges flutter up, and the result is they go home 

 law-breakers. They don't pursue the partridges, in fact liny 

 didn't mean to shoot, but at that particular moment they 

 couldn't help it. And so I say this is one of several very 

 good reasons why the August woodcock law should be re- 

 pealed. 



Saturday, September 1, was hot and dusl\,lhe covers 

 were literally parched, and many of (he brooks were so nearly 

 dry that if, was difficult to find even a dirty pool where t In- 

 dogs could cool off and get a drink, but it was the day we 

 had been anxiously waiting for and we went .nearly all made 

 fair bags and enjoyed (he day as well as could he expeclcd 

 under the above mentioned conditions. After we have had 

 a rain we expect to enjoy good shooting, for there is a good 

 supply of partridges. ' ' E. Spraoce Knowi.ek. 



Woh'cektek, Wept. 5. 1833. 



ARKANSAS "SNIPE." 



UY HEMtV I". 1. EI. ANO. (ltJ5(5. 



t6^£7"OWKE off now. Goodbye. Take care of yourself, 

 1 and give those bears particular fits!" sung out Dory, 

 as the plank of the steamboat on which we were bound down 

 the Mississippi, was drawn in, and we left our Triced Marlon 

 —one night last winter— on the wharf boat at Napoleon, 

 Arkansas. 



We should have left him in pilch darkness had it not 

 been for the pitch-pine lights which shed a halo around 

 his head, and the tail of his Newfoundland dog. They 

 were hound up the Arkansas River mi a bear hunt. A more 

 whole-souled man. or a finer dog. never walked— although a 

 Scotch terrier is a better dog for bears, and as we left him 

 behind, there was a sense of something lost. 



In order to find composure, and fill up the vacnuffl, we 

 adjourned to Ihe exchange or social hall of Ihe steamboat to 

 lake a ",-uifter." On entOri -. IVOXed region, we were 



at once, made aware of the fact thai the Rackeusiickiatis al 

 Napoleon considered a fair "exchange" no robbery, in pay- 

 ment of our Roland of a Marion they had given us an Oliver 

 of anArkansian. He was a beauty. Straight as a hickory sap- 

 ling, and fully as tough, he seemed lobe just the stuff that red 

 eye whisky-barrel hoops are made of, water proo! at that. He 

 was already a firm friend of the barkeeper, having taken 

 two drinks inside ninety seconds, and as he still wore a 

 thirsty look in his left eye, we at once asked him to take 

 another, 



"Stranger," said he, "count me in Ihnr'. ' 



So we did. and after drinks all round we settled about the 

 stove with cigar-. Conversation soon fell ou bear lnmliug, 

 deer hunting? and finally was closing up with a description 

 of a 'mighty big coon hunt," Wherein my friend, the Rack 

 ensackian, had performed prodigies oi^idor in ihe ffflj ol 

 putting whisky '"•'■< ''" c&nibat or out of harm's way, cut 

 down an untold number ol cotton-wood oi prkuu trees, and 

 pitched into a live oak till he made dead wood ot it; and 



finally killed. Oil that One night, 1 LID coons, whose united 

 weight he judged to be well ou to a foul After this we 

 knew the man; bul Dory, in whose lock.-, the lit! ■■■ 

 still gleamed, was moved", in turn, to tell hit tale of hunting, 

 and dwell long and feebly on a certain snipe-SllOOting ex elu- 

 sion, Wherein each gunner bagged his lour dozen bu'i I 

 drew it strong, being away from home— andwen] 

 away about how the snipe rose and fell.inu.il tie 

 sack'iau woke up with the question - 

 "What ,1;'' snipe?" 



