FOKEST AND STREAM. 



may be fun for you, but wait till I get down, that's all." 

 We bad now had all the laugh that we could possibly en- 

 dure, and it was really a feeling of alarm for ourselves as 

 to the consequences of immoderate laughter that led us to 

 consider measures of bringing the affair to an end. I pro- 

 posed shooting him where . he was. "Oh! no," says 'Lish, 

 "give him a chance for his life; and besides I want to see 

 him come down from that tree himself. Its a mighty handy 

 tree to climb, but a mighty aggravating one to descend. 

 I'll start him." So saying, 'Lish slipped in a cartridge 

 loaded with No. 6 shot and sent it up to the bear. It stung 

 him perceptibly, and stimulated him to a tremendous ef- 

 fort, which resulted in getting his hinder parts around suf- 

 ficiently to get one of his hind feet on the sliver, then 

 raising himself up, lifted hisforesbouldersoutof the crotch 

 and gave a long sigh of relief, and looked again at us as 

 much as to say : "Now I'll attend to you" he then backed 

 around to the other side of the tree and commenced let- 

 ting himself down. We started also for the other side, 

 and reached there just in time to see him brought up by 

 another sliver. When about a third of the way down his 

 hinder parts had by this time become very tender and sus- 

 ceptible, and his rage at this latter infliction was intense. 

 He bit at the tree with a savage snarl, taking out a piece of 

 bark and shaking it as a terrier would a rat. Everything 

 now assumed a decided air of business. I stood ready with 

 my rifle, 'Lish by my side with his breech-loader ready, in 

 case 1 should miss. Down came old Bruin, and on touch- 

 ing the ground faced us and raised himself, evidently de- 

 termined to fight. I could wait no longer, but pulled trig- 

 ger, aiming directly between his foreshoulders. Expecting 

 to see him drop at once, I did not then reload, and when I 

 saw him come rapidly for us after my shot, I confess to a 

 "buck fever," or something else, that rendered me incapa- 

 ble of any reasonable action, for I let another cartridge 

 into the chamber and pulled the trigger without raising the 

 gun, and the dirt and chips flew in all directions where the 

 • shot struck, and if 'Lish had not quickly put two charges 

 of buckshot in a vital spot, I will not pretend to say what 

 the end would have been. The last charge was put in at 

 very short range, tearing a hole in his neck that saved any 

 use of the knife in bleeding him. We soon rigged a pur- 

 chase, raised him up, opened and cleaned him. We found 

 that my ball had entered just to the right of his breast- 

 bone, and instead of penetrating it had glanced and fol- 

 lowed the bone around just under the skin, lodging under 

 the shoulder-blade at the joint; an inch further to the left 

 would undoubtedly have finished him at once. 



While we had been entertained by the bear we had heard 

 two shots in Bertham's direction, and we had also imagined 

 that we had heard the hounds far to the south and west of 

 us, but we had been so busy that we could not feel certain. 

 'Lish now called up Old John, and placing him in a con- 

 venient position, by dint of some tugging and lifting Mr. 

 Bear was placed across his back and started for a ford of 

 the river near where we expected to find Bertham. At the 

 ford the banks on either side were comparatively low, and 

 we had no difficulty in crossing. John, however, did some 

 powerful jumping and plunging on the way, but his eye 

 was continually on his master, and he followed his foot- 

 steps closely no matter where they led. Reaching Bertham 

 at last we found that he had got his cat, and had it propped 

 up on a stump as if in the act of springing. Old John 

 didn't like the looks of the animal in that life-like attitude, 

 for he was about giving it a wide berth, but at his master's 

 command he came up to it trembling and snorting, and fin- 

 ally stood quietly beside it. The cat was a large one, but 

 not as large as he had seemed when I saw him in the field. 



We now took up our line of march homeward, and re- 

 lated our several experiences. Bertham had made 

 an easy capture of the cat. He tracked him into the 

 pile and ascertained that he had not left it, hence 

 he concluded that the cat had seen me and 

 was keeping dark. Gentle means failing to dislodge 

 him, Bertham had gathered some dry birch bark, which 

 burns like.kerosene, and filling up the crevice on the wind- 

 ward side of the pile, started it burning and stood off 

 waiting results. Pussy soon took the hint, and left, being 

 brought up all standing at the first shot; but Bertham 

 didn't feel like carressing him much until after the 

 dose had been repeated. 



On coming up to Mr. Mills's station we found the lunch 

 ba3ket open and Buxton and Mr. M. going for the choice 

 cuts before a blazing fire of birch bark and pine knots. 

 The hounds were tethered near by, and we all sat down to 

 the feast. Any hunter can imagine the delights of the sit- 

 uation at this moment. It was a time for unbridled in- 

 dulgence in all the propensities that actuate the true bred, 

 genial and jolly sportsman. The incidents of the day, thus 

 far, had been sufficient to furnish material for all sorts of 

 sparkling sallies, which were mostly aimed at your good- 

 natured correspondent. Of course it was wholly my gener- 

 osity that gave Bertham a chance at the wildcat! Nervous? 

 who said anybody was nervous? That shot in the dirt was 

 the fault of that confounded mechanic who put the wea- 

 pon together and manipulated the lock to pull at a good 

 deal less than the regulation three pounds. Of course it 

 was. Why certainly. No buck fever in this crowd — oh! 

 no! This might have continued indefinitely had not Bux- 

 ton suddenly started and run up the bank of the river, 

 soon .followed by the whole party. We had learned 

 on first reaching them that Buxton and the hounds had 

 started a doe, but had lost him in the river and the chase 

 had been given over, they supposing that they had seen her 

 tracks up the eastern bank, indicating that she had crossed 

 and was probably on her way to the lake. Buxton had seen 

 some circling ripples in the water up near a bend in the 



river above us, which was the cause of his sudden start. 

 On arriving at the bend it was evident that something had 

 been agitating the water, though nothing could be seen. It 

 might have been a duck starting up, or a muskrat. Bux- 

 ton, meantime, had made his way to the foot of the bank, 

 and was looking intently at a small pile of rubbish which 

 had lodged on a snag near the middle of the river. As this 

 game, whatever it might turn out to be, belonged of right 

 to Buxton and Mr. Mills, we did not interfere. Buxton 

 called on Mr. Mills to put a charge of buckshot in that 

 clump of rubbish, which he did, and immediately a doe's 

 head came to the surface and turned for the opposite shore. 

 Another charge did not stop her. The water now shal- 

 lowed, and as she was making a final plunge for a foot- 

 hold, a ball from Buxton's rifle laid her over as quiet as a 

 lamb. Buxton paddled over on a log and towed her 

 across, when we all set to and had her hungup and dressed 

 in short order. We now had a short rest at the fire, and 

 then for home. 



Within forty-eight hours f r*om that moment I was tread- 

 ing again the stones on Broadway, but with a lighter step 

 than I had known for years, being now resolved that an- 

 other hunting season — Providence permitting— will find 

 me once more in Michigan, and with the same genial and 

 kindly companions. 



Finally, I would say that the articles I took with me all 

 served admirably, and I would duplicate them on another 

 trip, but with the addition, I think, of a good breech- 

 loading shot gun, for the smaller game is so plenty as to 

 be an aggravation unless one has the means of baggiug it. 

 After my next trip I trust I may feel sufficiently initiated 

 to abandon the cognomen of Greenhorn. 



LOOSE 



For Forest and Stream. 

 LEAVES FROM A SURVEYOR'S 

 JOURNAL. 



STARVATION. 



-+- 



WE started from Portage City in April, and proposed 

 to bring up somewhere near Hudson, opposite St. 

 Paul, which we did in August. We had some good boys 

 in our party, and it is ia hopes that in your widely circu- 

 lated paper some one of them, if still in the land of the 

 living, may see this article and let me know their where- 

 abouts. I want to trade stories with them, and hear how 

 time has dealt with them since our camp life of 64 days 

 twenty years ago. Where is genial Cleveland, ourcompan- 

 ion; classic Davis, our leveler; Daniels, our chief I am 

 grieved to have learned, has made up his estimates 

 and turned them in for another world. "Peace to his 

 ashes." But rollicking Webster, and jolly, honest Mike, 

 and roaring Ralph, and several others whose phisioguo- 

 mies 1 recall, but not their names. Where are they? 



We were approaching Black river, and a swamp of un- 

 known dimensions. The teams with the tents, provisions, 

 etc., were ordered around, while twelve of us were detail- 

 ed to run the line through. We were instructed to run a 

 certain direction until 4 p. m., and then camp and wait for 

 orders, the supposition being that we would be but a short 

 distance from Black river, along which there were known 

 to be settlements, and if our teams had not been able to get 

 around, scouts would meet us and bring us out all right. 

 We obeyed orders, and at 4 p. m. brought up in a Tama- 

 rack Swamp We pitched our tent on the only hardwood 

 knoll we could find and awaited events. We had toiled 

 hard, cutting our way all day and were tired and hungry. 

 No welcome scouts came in with tidings or bread and pork. 

 Supperless we turned in; breakfastlesj we passed the fore- 

 noon, the sun sank to rest through the tamarack trees and 

 our stomachs were still an aching void. Another night and 

 another day, and no sign of scout or grub. We could not 

 move, for we knew not which way to go, and were told 

 positively not to stir until further orders. The third day 

 broke upon us, and as it advanced it showed a demoralized 

 set of men . Of the twelve men only f cur could walk 

 without staggering, three could with difficulty arise from 

 the ground, and, singular to state, the largest and strong- 

 est of the party were affected the first and most powerful. 

 The terrible cravings and gnawings! "Words cannot de- 

 scribe the sufferings of those strong men in their agony. 

 The undersigned being the slightest as well as the young- 

 est of the party, seemed to stand it better, and then again 

 he assuaged his hunger to a certain extent on the tender 

 basswood buds and elm shoots, and on the last day, with 

 the help of Webster's botanical knowledge, we boiled up 

 several kettles of greens (he said they were harmless, and 

 they proved to be) which went far to carry us through. 



There was a cock grouse chat daily drummed on a log 

 not 200 yards from our camp; but all the ingenuity of 

 twelve starving men could not snare or capture him (our 

 firearms were all with the other party). The undersigned 

 has set snares with some success, but he was completely 

 baffled by this outrageously tantalizing Tetrao umbellus. 

 He knew things, he did, for he would spring the snare de- 

 liberately while we lay watching him strutting on the log 

 not thirty feet away. Several times we came near bag- 

 ging him with a club.but he was too good at dodging. Per- 

 haps our very necessities and circumstances made us ner- 

 vous, for we could by no manner of means inveigle him 

 into our tin pail. And for all we know to the contrary he 

 may be drumming there yet. 



About 9 a. m. of the morning of the fourta day a shout 

 was heard, and two men were seen approaching with heavy 

 packs strapped aback. They were soon surrounded by 

 those able to meet them. They had lost their way, or 

 failed to find us the night before. Their packs consisted 

 of a kind of fresh biscuits, or cracker rather, and salt pork, 



The men were nervous, and they tore off great chunks of 

 the pork and devoured them raw like beasts. But three of 

 us were more self-denying, and eat of the bread, but spar- 

 ingly of the meat. I hid a large piece of the pork in a 

 hollow stump, the remainder I cut up in small pieces and 

 boiled with the greens, and made a capital and nourishing 

 dish. The two scouts started on their return immediately, 

 saying they would be back again with a fresh supply with 

 orders from our chief before night. But night came and 

 no scouts. 



I had recourse, as I expected, to my hollow stump; that 

 pound of pork was boiled six times in pots of greens for 

 his fellow sufferers, and I really believe it saved the lives 

 of two, if not three of them, because eating so much raw salt 

 pork on an empty stomach brought on a severe diarreeh 

 that came near checking them off. Another night of anx- 

 iety, and the scouts appeared. After a hearty breakfast 

 we broke camp and followed our guides the best we could 

 in our weak condition; but many of us could go but slow- 

 ly, and that with only uncertain steps. 



Toward the afternoon we came out in a clearing and 

 were welcomed by a squatter away in those wildwoods. 

 He could only offer us boiled potatoes and salt. Ah! 

 "Cleve," do you remember how delicious those esculents 

 tasted boiled with their jackets on in that big sugar kettle? 

 Have you ever had murphies go to the right spot as they 

 did that day? Never, never will I forget them. In the 

 afternoon we brought up on the Black river and a sawmill 

 settlement. Our team soon arrived and all was lovelv, but 

 not soon will any of us forget our three days of starvation. 



Jacor&taff. 



DUCKING IN 



For Forest and Stream. 

 LINE. 



AKOUGH shake, followed by a sudden and forcible 

 transition from dreamland and romance to stern, 

 chilling lealities, is the first announcement vouchsafed of 

 the fact that it is three-thirty o'clock of a crisp, cold No- 

 vember morning, and if we are to be of the ducking party 

 today a stir must be made at once. Twenty minutes have 

 scarce elapsed 'ere we are discussing the prospects of the 

 day over our steaming coffee, and barely double that time 

 has passed before, seated behind old Whitefoot, snugly 

 esconsed in the buffaloes, pipe in mouth, we go whirling 

 over the hard frozen turnpike. The rosy fingered daughter 

 of the morn will be wrapt iu virtuous slumber for a good 

 two hour's yet, and we shall anticipate her to-day. Duck- 

 ing in line is to be the "ordre de jour," and for the benefit 

 of those ignorant of the modus operandi, we will briefly 

 describe it: A number of boats, perhaps twentv, each con* 

 taming one man, one or more guns, together with an 

 anchor, thirty feet of rope and a buoy, start for some pre- 

 determined point of land near which the birds feed. The 

 boats range themselves off from the shore about gun shot 

 apart, foiming a cordon through which the ducks a*e ex- 

 pected to liy. The anchor is attached first to the buoy, 

 and this in turn is snapped to the painter. When a bird 

 is shot down, the boat can in this way quickly slip the 

 buoy, and save the time and trouble of raising the anchor. 

 The bird3 at sunrise fly into the bays and estuaries for 

 food, and in passing over the line give good shots to the 

 gunners. 



We have reached the shore, and a number of dark forms 

 clusteied around the boats disclose, as we draw near, our 

 companions of the day, preparing their light skiffs and 

 ducking float9 for the start. A hardy, jovial set of fellows 

 they are — hard working farmer's and fishermen — most of 

 them, with pleasant word, ready wit — keen sportsmen all. 

 Preparations soon completed, the boats putl off one by 

 one. As we slowly recede from the shore we see Luna, 

 whose brightness is now dimmed, just sinking from view 

 behind the hills, while low down on the horizon opposite 

 Aurora is just beginning to redden the eastern heavens. 

 How apt the words of the immortal Grey: ''And all the 

 air a solemn stillness holds," here broken only by the 

 monotone of the oars, or the voice of <*on\.e early oyster- 

 man, who laboring by with his unwieldy craft salutes our 

 boats as we pass. 



A pull of half an hour brings U3 to the point where the 

 line is to be formed, and we select positions. Those who 

 have stools put them out. Hardly have we all arranged 

 ourselves before a gun is heard close in toward the shore, 

 and immediately the plaintive and human-like crv of an 

 old loon comes floating through the twilight. He had, in 

 the darkness, flown right on the boats, and being turned 

 at the first shot glidf s along the line looking for an open- 

 ing. Each boat, as his shadowy form is discerned in the 

 dusk of the morning, hurls after him its ounce of lead; 

 but the old fellow seems to care but little for it, and finally 

 passes through the barrier, and is lost in the gray, filmy 

 mists of the bay. So the sport of the day is inaugurated. 



Far out over the water, at the report of the guns, the 

 faint whistling of a million wings is borne to us, and ever 

 and anon we hear the "honk!" "honk!" of gangs of geese 

 as they pass high overhead. The sky grows brighter and 

 brighter, and its whole expanse seems now one mass of 

 molten gold, 'till with a great burst of light the sun lifts 

 himself from his billowy couch, illumines the broad waste 

 of waters and day breaks. The birds begin to appear in 

 small bunches, then joining forces they fly back and forth, 

 marshalling their legions. Their continued and peculiar 

 cry, "owl!" "owl!" "owly!" rippling musically across the 

 waters to us, announces that the principal sport of the 

 day will be confined to the "Old Squaws," a bird with a 

 dozen names in ducking parlance, known to naturalists as 

 the long-tailed duck (Harelda glacialu), He affords good 



