FOREST AND STREAM. 



resorts to a brook or river as soon as he can get the oppor- 

 tunity. Hunters avail themselves of these characteristics, 

 and act accordingly; and so quick are they in detecting 

 which species is started that the pack will not be in motion 

 five minutes ere they hie either to the hills or the stream. 

 The white-tailed deer also runs in a more direct line than 

 his congener, as if he would outstrip the dogs bv his fleet- 

 ness, but the other doubles like a hare, and chooses the 

 most rocky and difficult ground, as if he knew that the 

 scent would be lost more readily in such places, and that 

 his means of escape would therefore be greater. The 

 former has also the greater speed, but lacks'the endurance 

 of the other, who is a splendid type of cervidean strength 

 and power, and, in my opinion, the best of his family for 

 giving the dogs a run that will test their pace and bottom. 

 The white-tailed species is the most abundant, and is usu- 

 ally found in clearings and in the fir groves bordering prai- 

 ries, while his congener prefers the heavy forests, whose 

 silence is disturbed only by the notes of the little peewee, 

 or the scream of the wild cat and panther. The former is 

 also less timid, and the result is that the groups are so nu- 

 merous around the cabins of pioneers that they have to be 

 poisoned, or constantly worried by dogs, to prevent them 

 from destroying the tender vegetables and cereals, of which 

 they are very fond. The slaying of a deer, which is so 

 uncommon an event in many of the Eastern States as to 

 induce hunters to dwell with self-satisfied unction upon it, 

 is there so ordinary an occurrence that those who have 

 brought hundreds to the green sward hardly ever think of 

 referring to the matter, hence I would add, parenthetically, 

 that he who desires to satiate himself with deer stalking 

 should hie away to the shores of the Pacific. One week 

 there will cause him to listen with contemptuous disregard 

 to such tales as refer to the slaughter of one or two in a 

 month, or even in a week, for he can in most instances do 

 better than that in a day if he has the most ordinary luck. 

 To those who desire hunting to their hearts' content, from 

 hare coursing to slaying the panther in his leafy retreat, 

 I would then say by all means "go West," and do not stop 

 until you reach the shores of the Pacific, and when you 

 return you will be a veritable nimrod among the pigmy 

 chasseurs of your acquaintance. I would give the same 

 advice to anglers, but as I hope ere long to show them the 

 rich treasures of the region, I shall postpone any remarks 

 on their loved subject at present. And now to return to 

 my first hunt in the Territory. 



Having cleansed the last animals, we suspended them 

 from trees and left that section, as we presumed that the 

 dogs had scared away all the deer in the vicinity. We had 

 not proceeded half a mile before a fine buck leaped out of 

 a glade in front of us, but the guide brought him down 

 before he had gone thirty paces. A little further and an- 

 other full grown stag bounded from his foliaceous retreat 

 and dashed away with the hounds in full cry behind him. 

 "No use going after him," said the guide; "he'll go for 

 the hills, so we had better wait here until the dogs lose 

 him, and then go for another." 



We sat down accordingly, like men who were powerless, 

 and devoted half an hour of our time to discussing the 

 points of each dog according as we detected his rich notes 

 echoing through the soughing forest, and the merits of 

 cigars that would not burn. At the end of that time we 

 heard new canine Rickmonds in the field, and as they were 

 approaching us we jumped to our feet and eagerly ran for 

 cover, as we expected the quarry at any moment. We 

 waited about five minutes, when a buck dashed past, but 

 ere he could disappear four barrels had sent their contents 

 into his palpitating sides, and he fell crying piteously. Ere 

 we could reach him the hounds had throttled him, and 

 were fighting for a mouthful of his tender flesh. We soon 

 appeased their hunger, and they threw their wearied bod- 

 ies on the ground beside their prey, while we prepared it 

 for transportation. 



As the day was declining, we concluded to return home, 

 for we were well content with our day's amusement, which 

 enabled us to enjoy some fine runs, and at the same time 

 to reap the reward of vigilance. We hired a farmer's 

 wagon to take the animals to town, and in the evening, 

 over a dish of savory venison, washed down with some 

 "Veuve Clicquot," we discussed the events of the day, and 

 brought from the perspective of memory recollections of 

 former hunts which had long laid dormant. From the 

 conversation of that evening, and my own experience, I 

 have eoncluded that to hunt deer successfully in the for- 

 est one must use buckshot, as the shrubbery and under- 

 growth is so dense and matted that a rifle ball is apt to be 

 swerved from its course. But apart from that, is the fact 

 that all shooting is done at from forty to sixty yan4s, for 

 beyond that distance one cannot see very well, owing to 

 the cause already stated. 



From Vancouver I went back to Portland, Oregon, thence 

 took the little stern-wheel steamer that plies to Kalama, the 

 headquarters of the Northern Pacific Railroad. This is a 

 hamlet composed of unpainted, primitive, wooden struc- 

 tures, devoted almost exclusively to the sale of intemperate 

 drinks and pioneer edibles. The scenery en route is mag- 

 nificent in the literal sense of the word, as the Columbia 

 River reflects the mighty forests on its banks with mirror- 

 like fidelity, and high above all other objects loom the 

 white-shrouded peaks of Hood, St. Helens, and Rainier, 

 while interest is added to the trip by some trap terraces 

 that were formerly used as burial grounds by the Flathead 

 Indians. The most remarkable "of these is called Coffin 

 Rock, and upon its sloping sides may be seen the remnants 

 of canoes in which reposed the bones of the rude fore- 

 fathers of the present children of the forest. 



At Kalama I took the cars for Olympia, the capital of 

 the Territory, distant about sixty miles. The train con- 

 sisted of one car and the locomotive, and the passengers 

 were confined to a squaw, two Chinamen, and myself. 

 The route the entire way led through a heavy forest of firs 

 and spruces, whose gloom was only relieved by dingles of 

 cornel, ash, or maple trees, but along the Cowlitz River an 

 occasional coppice of cottonwoods appeared. One peculiar 

 fact in relation to these attracted my attention, and that 

 was that they grew only on one side of the river, while the 

 coniferae occupied the other. Had they been confined to 

 lowland I could have readily surmised the cause to be the 

 fear of the firs to approach the water, but I saw that they 

 were not, and that they first appeared on one bank and 

 then on another, as if they grew without any affinity f or 

 soil and humidity. Having no opportunity of inspecting 

 their surroundings, I could only indulge in speculations, 

 but out of them "my botanical lore could not extricate me, 

 so I refer to it to iearn if anybody else has noticed the 

 same thing. At a station on the road I also encountered 

 another botanical peculiarity of the region, in which I was 



much interested. This was a shrub from three to five feet 

 high, with broad, smooth leaves, reddish flowers, and cov- 

 ered with stout thorns, that looked as if they would prove 

 disagreeable opponents. On examination, I found it to be 

 the Epinanonox horridum, or devil's walking stick, a cog- 

 nomen worthily bestowed and richly deserved, as I subse- 

 quently learned by experience. On this journey — as else- 

 where in the wooded portion of the Territory — I found the 

 red flowering currant (Bitus sanguineum) exceedingly 

 abundant, and noted that each species of flower guarded 

 its own ground with a combativeness worthy of the buffalo 

 grass of the Wyoming plains; and the latter I concede to 

 be the most tenacious of its habitat of any species of the 

 graminas I have ever seen, if not of the vegetable king- 

 dom. After traveling about forty miles we emerged on an 

 open, sandy prairie, covered with a short thin grass, which 

 affords a meagre pabulum to sheep for three or four months 

 in the year. A few houses dotted it in several places, so I 

 felt glad that we were approaching the abode of man. This 

 is called Mound Prairie, from a large mound some forty 

 feet high, and containing several acres of land, which rises 

 at its western terminus. It is also covered with smaller 

 mounds, varying from a few inches to a couple of feet in 

 height, and having a circumference of from ten to one 

 hundred feet. Their origin has been the cause of much 

 speculation among scientists, but nearly all differ in their 

 deductions. The lamented Agassiz stated that they were 

 the nests of a species of fish, now extinct, that inhabited 

 the region when it was covered with water, while others 

 attribute them to the uprooting of trees. A little study 

 and examination would have caused all these theorists to 

 have changed their opinion, for they were evidently formed 

 bv whirlpools in, probably, the Miocene epoch, when the 

 Puget Sound basin formed a portion of that great inland 

 sea which extended from British Columbia to California. 

 That they were not produced by a fish is evident from the 

 fact that they are confined to a very small area, and that 

 they differ in form, extent, and altitude; and that they are 

 not the result of the uprooting of trees I should deduce 

 from the mode in which the forest grows; while in contra- 

 distinction to these theories the evidence of their being 

 the result of eddies is quite apparent in their distribution, 

 the material of which they are formed— rounded pebbles 

 of shales, schists, and sedimentary fragments — and their 

 paucity of vegetation, for nothing thrives upon them but 

 a species of fern (Pteris aquilina) and that expression of 

 meagre nutrition, the pycranthemum. It therefore follows 

 that if they could afford support to the economical fir in 

 tli e past they could at present ; but that they do not, carries its 

 own lesson, and proves that they could not have been formed 

 by the uprooting of trees. I refer to this fact in detail, 

 because they are frequent subjects of speculation among 

 travelers who have seen them. I took the stage at this 

 point to m to Olympia, fifteen or twenty miJes distant, the 

 railroad not approaching any nearer the town, as it con- 

 tinues its way directly north of Tacoma, the terminus on 

 Puget Sound. The route led me over several small prai- 

 ries, composed of such poor soil that it is capable of pro- 

 ducing only a meagre growth of grass and a few vegetables, 

 but it abounds with that curse of the country, the pugna- 

 cious fern. Farmers settled on these prairies at one time, 

 but hunger soon made them leave, for they found that they 

 could raise only a small quantity of tuberous roots and 

 some cabbage. They are not even tit for grazing, except 

 during a couple of months in the year, and the poor cay- 

 uses, or mustangs, that are forced to live upon them are 

 as sorry specimens of their race as can be found on the Con- 

 linent. Passing beyond them, the stage dashed through 

 woods of plutonian darkness, then emerged on a hill which 

 gave me the first view of Olympia and the Mediterranean 

 of this country — Puget Sound — whose beauties are so nu- 

 merous and unique as to defy description. 



John Mortimer Murphy. 



SPORTS IN 



For Forest and Stream. 

 TEXAS. 



SIX of us, with a two horse wagon and a two horse 

 hack, started about ten o'clock for Red River and vi- 

 cinity for a few days' camp. It was a beautiful, clear, 

 frosty morning on the 24th of November, 1875. Ed. F. and 

 I were on horseback, and as we rode leisurely along he re- 

 counted many of his adventures in the early settling of 

 Cooke county, also how he had stalked the black-tail deer 

 in Colorado. He carried across his saddle bow an old- 

 fashioned muzzle loading rifle of a suitable calibre for 

 deer. As we passed a wheat field we observed a large 

 flock of wild geese picking at the tender wheat near the 

 road. Hastily dismounting, Ed. began to load, and here I 

 gained a new idea for capping guns." He was in the act of 

 pushing down the ball when the whole flock took wing 

 (being some 150 paces distant), and came almost directly to- 

 wards us. I hastily felt in my pocket for a cap, and was 

 surprised to see Ed. raise his gun and fire before I could 

 produce the caps from my pocket. On asking how he 

 capped his gun so quickly he showed me a leathern tag at- 

 tached to his belt, which had ten or twelve caps fastened 

 to its lower extremity, each on a separate nipple or tube. 



We soon came to Fish Creek, a clear, bold stream, 

 abounding in black bass, perch, catfish, etc. Here we 

 stopped for a lunch. Late in the afternoon we came to 

 Red River, just where some five years since I killed a pan- 

 ther in the night. I had never seen the place in daylight, 

 and was surprised at the denseness and extent of the jun- 

 gle. All the scenes were vividly recalled to my mind, and 

 I realized how much danger I would have been in had I 

 broken a leg and brought the panther to a hand to hand 

 combat in those briars. The bed of Red River here is 

 about 600 yards wide, but only seventy-five or 100 yards of 

 this space was covered with water, and it was quite shal- 

 low. If it was not so wide, and the channel did not change 

 with every freshet, there might be some hope of making it 

 navigable, for it drains a tremendous amount of territory. 

 T. and I were in the hack when we observed a covey of 

 quail run across the road into some grass that was almost 

 waist high. Seizing our shot guns we jumped out of the 

 hack and waded into them. We both fired as they rose, but 

 got only one bird. Ed. had killed a prairie chicken just 

 before we reached the river. We now went into camp for 

 the night on a small creek, and I killed a squirrel to make 

 out a "mess." We built a roaring fire beside a huge log, ate 

 supper, cracked jokes for some time, and, as the night was 

 clear and warm, instead of stretching our tent over a pole 

 we spread it on the ground before the fire, laid down our 

 blankets, and went to sleep. Next morning we awoke to 

 find it thick, cloudy, and thundering. By daybreak we 

 had eaten breakfast, and, loading our guns, each man chose 



his course and plunged into the wild woods, all on horse- 

 back except Esquire F. and D., who went up the creek 

 bottom. Crossing the creek I rode up through the bottom 

 on the opposite side. The leaves were damp, and I made 

 very little noise. I had not gone more than a "quarter" 

 when I discovered an open prairie valley to my left and 

 thought I would go and see if there was not an old buck 

 scampering around the edges of that prairie. I had ad- 

 vanced to within about 100 yards OTFit when the sharp re- 

 port of a rifle broke the stillness of the morning very close 

 to me and in the edge of that prairie. I knew it was the 

 Squiie and D.,soI called out, "What are you shooting 

 at?" Squire F. answered back. "I've killed a fine buck, 

 come over and help hang him up." Dismounting I crossed 

 the creek, and just in the edge of that prairie" lay a nice 

 four pointer, with the hot blood spouting from an incision 

 made by the Squire's knife. "Pretty well clone, Squire- 

 how old are you?" "Sixty-five." "You shoot well for a 

 cloudy day; did you kill him in his tracks?" "Yes; he 

 was standing looking at you ." By this time the Squire'had 

 taken out his entrails, and we hung him up in a tree. I 

 now concluded to advance on foot, and, sticking my shot 

 gun under a log, I hitched my horse, loosed my Ballard 

 rifle from the saddle, and traveled up the creek for a mile 

 without seeing any game larger than squirrels. Yes i except 

 once I got a glimpse of a turkey, running like a streak of 

 lighting. Looking at my watch, I saw that my time was 

 nearly up, and hastily returned to camp to find that W. P. 

 had killed a turkey, and Ed. soon returned with another." 

 We had concluded to advance farther up the creek, and 

 were soon under way. We traveled until near twelve 

 o'clock, when it began to rain, and we stopped and 

 stretched our tent, and eat dinner. We started "out again 

 after finishing our meal, and Ed. fired at a doe within 300 

 yards of camp, but missed it. We advanced for half a 

 mile, when I heard both barrels of T.'s gun down to my 

 right. Looking that way I saw a flock of turkeys sailing 

 directly towards me, which alighted before they got to 

 where I was, and as I dismounted, two of them hove in 

 sight. Without thinking, I fired my right (charged with 

 buckshot), and missed. This caused the second to stop in 

 the tall grass, when I advanced and brought him down 

 with my left. I now recharged my right with buckshot 

 and my left with No. l's, and when flushing the first one I 

 had shot at, I again fired the buck at him and missed. 

 Just previous to this I had heard Ed.'s rifle to my left, and 

 now heard him calling for help. P. rode up and found he 

 had killed a large buck. As I was crossing a ravine a tur- 

 key flew over my head, and I fired from" my horse, but 

 without effect. T. now came up with three turkeys tied 

 on his saddle, which he had killed at his first shot. It 

 looked so much like rain that we returned to camp to find 

 the Squire frying some venison with fresh pork, which he 

 had brought along. He was also roasting his deer's head 

 for the brains. A couple of gentlemen living within a few 

 miles of camp visited us, and invited us to partake of their 

 hospitality, but we were doing well enough, and declined. 

 They promised to come over at night and go turkey hunt* 

 ing. Our turkey hunt at night did not promise much, as 

 it was cloudy, and no moonshine. Just before night Ed. 

 brought in his deer, and P. brought in another turkey. AV'e 

 had quite an argument about the best kind of shot to be 

 used. Ed. and I were in favor of small shot (No. 1), and 

 T. was in favor of No. l's, mixed with the smallest size of 

 buckshot. 



It was now time to start, and we mounted our horses and 

 rode up the creek for about a mile to the roost. It was 

 not quite dark when we arrived there, and they began to 

 fly at our approach. It soon became dark, and Ed. and T. 

 began to advance. I remained behind lest I should cause 

 them to fly, and bring down their swift imprecations upon 

 my head. But when T.'s 10-gauge, laminated steel, broke 

 the silence of twilight with a report but little less than 

 that of a young mortar, and a turkey came with a thug to 

 the ground, I could no longer desist, and advanced hastily. 

 Ed.'s gun next broke the silence, and thrash, quit, qui I 

 came another turkey. The firing now became general, and 

 caused the birds to seek the tops of the tallest trees. I 

 came on one of them in the top of a large burr oak, and 

 as I had my right charged with buckshot and bone dust 

 from a wire cartridge, that I had torn up in the evening, 

 I used that barrel and brought down a fine gobbler. I now 

 charged with four and half drachms of powder and one and 

 a half ounces No. 1 shot, for across the creek in the very 

 tops of some large cottonwoods 1 saw several turkeys, and 

 knew it would take lots of powder to reach them. I was 

 soon under them, and fired first the right and then the left 

 without even making them fly. I recharged my gun the 

 same way, but at this juncture they all flew but one. I 

 fired twice at him before he flew, and 1 then thought it 

 time to change my tactics, so pouring down four and a 

 half drachms powder I scooped up a handful of small 

 buckshot out of my pocket and counted eighteen into each 

 barrel. It was now quite dark, although the clouds had 

 blown off, and the stars were shining. Ed. and T. were 

 keeping up a constant fire down the creeks. With each 

 barrel I now brought down a turkey, and as I had got off 

 some distance from my horse I concluded not to kill any 

 more. Having on two coats I had become quite warm, 

 and thought best to shed them before taking up the line ot 

 march- Two coats, a nine pound gun, and three turkeys 

 4hat would weigh forty-five pounds were as much as I 

 could drag through the briars in the dark. I finally reached 

 my horse, but found that I had lost one coat. Ed. had 

 four, and F. had five, which, with my three, made twelve 

 turkeys in less than an hour. Just as we got to camp the 

 boys that had promised to come and hunt with us rode up 

 with a turkey they had killed on the way. Mr. P. went 

 out with them, and they killed eight more, making for the 

 day's hunt two deer and twenty-eight turkeys. During the 

 night a norther blew up. I stayed with the boys till twelve 

 o'clock, and the bag for that day was two turkeys by T., and 

 two wounded deer. With many good wishes I left them 

 and turned my course homeward, wishing that I could stay 

 a week. On the night of the 28th it rained heavily, and 

 turned severely cold, then I was not sorry I was at home. 

 The day after I left the party T. succeeded in killing a 

 doe, and at night they killed quite a lot of turkeys 



Captain J. T. Rowland and nine others have just re- 

 turned from a two weeks' hunt. They killed seventy-three 

 deer and sixty-eight turkeys, the Captain killing forty oi 

 the deer. I do not see why some of your Florida visitois 

 might not spend a Winter pleasantly" in Texas. We are 

 only thirty miles from the M. K. and T. R. B., with a dairy 

 stage. But I must close, for it is likely that this article is 

 already too well itemized. Texas. 



Qaimmlle, Coolce county, Texas, Dec, %d, 1875. 



