Terms, Five Dollars a Year. J 

 Ten Cents a Copy. J 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, DECEMBER in, 1875, 



j Volume 5, IVumber 19. 



"I 17 Chatham St. (CityHall 8qr.) 



'I 



For Forest and Stream. 



}m punting in Minnesota. 



* . — 

 Twill snow to-night, I think; if it docs, be at the 

 crossing at six o'clock and we will see what we can 

 o with the deer " So the note ran, written by a good 

 •iend of ours, and handed to us by a small boy, who in- 

 sted on an answer. Writing "yes" in large letters across 

 ie note, we sent him back and begun to get ready. 

 First, we looked at the heavy double barrel gun, 

 kichis the gun for hunting deer in the brush. As they 

 'iep hid in cold, dry weather in the day time, and often 

 mp within a few yards of the hunter, a glimpse or two 

 all ODe gets of them in the brush, and a rifle is almost 



useless. Next, we loaded some cartridges with 5$ drachms 

 of powder and a dozen buckshot; got out the old "larra- 

 gans," or rather the Canadian moccasins, and made them 

 pliant and soft with oil, put a morsel of tobacco and a 

 brier root pipe in one pocket of the blanket, wormers and 

 extractor, compass and matches in another, locked the 

 safe, blew out the lights, and proceeded homeward through 

 the fast falling snow. At four o'clock the storm had 

 ceased; about three inches of dry light snow had fallen, 

 a breeze from the north swayed the tall pine trees, and at 

 six o'clock, as we got to the crossing just under the hill 

 where the little cotton streamers over the graves of the In- 

 dians fluttered weirdly in the gray morning light, our 

 friend came along the trail, his well-trained dog— a cross 



between a blood and fox hound— following at his heels. 



Said F : "You go to the south end of the little swamp; 



go as fast as you like. I'll go north a mile or so and swing 

 around that way. If I start anything, or find a fresh 

 track leading into the swamp, I'll let Juno go, and then 



look out?" To the swamp we went, and waited till F 



made his appearance. No deer— not a track — was the re- 

 port, and the willow clumps on the Long Lake trail was 

 the next point selected. This necessitated a walk of about 

 four miles, and on rounding the shore of Gilbert Lake 

 several fresh tracks heading for the willows aforesaid gave 

 us what our old friend Fay used to call "great hopes.' 3 

 Juno whined to be off, but we were not ready and she was 

 ordered to stay in. Along the trail we went for a mile or 



PEER SHOOTING, 



