FOREST AND STREAM. 
771 
GAME PROTECTION. 
Who Ki l led Cock Robin? — “I did, sir, may it please 
your Honor," said Peter Smith, the prisoner at the bar. 
“ Five dollars ” was the sentence, and P. Smith is now 
meditating over it. According to the law of New York 
State every man who shoots, with gun or bow and arrow, 
a robin, is liable to the same penalty, no matter in wliat 
county he may reside. 
Migratory Quail on Toast— Grafton, Vt.. Oct. 21st. 
—Editor Forest and Stream: —The annual meeting of 
the Vermont' Association for the [Protection and Pre- 
sevation of Fish and Game will be held in Rutland the 
first Tuesday in November. At a recent supper in 
Rutland, a complimentary toast was tendered to Judge 
Everts, in wJiich allusion was made to migratory quail. 
Mr. Everts in reply said that he had spoken to his 
fellow citizens upon many matters pertaining to the 
prosperity of Rutland, but had never spoken to them 
on the subject of migratory quail. He said that he 
had turned loose the first quails over turned out in this 
country, and had great confidence in the success of the 
experiment. In 1877-78 he in connection with friends 
here had turned out 200 each year, about one-half females. 
They had raised broods of from eleven to eighteen, nearly 
every egg hatched and the birds matured. They keep 
together in flocks till the time of migration, which is 
from Sept. 1 to Oct. 1. Upon an estimate that each brood 
contains three females, and they in turn raise three fe¬ 
males each, which escape vermin and pot-hunters, begin¬ 
ning with only sixty females, at the end of twenty years 
add an equal number of inales to the females, set them 
flying around the earth at one foot apart and they will 
reach twenty-three hundred and sixty-six times around 
the world and have 18,818 quails to spare. Then load 
these birds into freight cars, three birds to the pound and 
ten tons to the car, each car occupying thirty feet of 
track, and the loaded cars would occupy thirty-two thous¬ 
and miles of solid track. A distinguished jurist once 
asked him “ whether the quails were good to eat?” He 
Tepiied that he could not tell of his own knowledge, but 
would answer the question by asking another, which was 
this : "Do you suppose that the Lord would have fed his 
choseu people, upon game that was not fit to eat?" The 
Judge gave it up. Tliat the quails were to be in the near 
future the most numerous game bird in America he firm¬ 
ly believed. G. B. P. 
Massachusetts.— Mr. L. W. Atwood, of Portland, Me., 
sent the other day eight fine partridges to Wellfleet, Mass., 
to be let loose for breeding purposes. Last year he also 
sent several, Mr, Atwood is endeavoring to get the par¬ 
tridges to stay there, as they have hitherto been unknown 
in that section._ ^ ^ 
Adirondack Deer Hounding. — New York. Oct. 20th. 
—Editor Forest and Stream: —‘ ‘ Thomas J. F.,” of James¬ 
town, in your last issue writes that ' 1 the law passed last 
winter in regard to hounding of deer does not suit us out 
here, and is going to be the means of cleaning them all 
out, unless we can have it amended. It just suits the 
Indians on the Cattaraugus reservation, and they are 
going to annihilate the last deer in this section if it is not 
stopped, and many of the vagabond whites are lend¬ 
ing a helping hand.” 
It may gratify our legislators to know that this non¬ 
sensical enactment suits quite a number of people, and to 
Cattaraugus Indians and vagabond whites let me add four 
residents of this city, who, a few weeks ago, with two 
guides and nine dogs, hounded to death thirteen deer 
(six in one day) in the Beaver river section of our north¬ 
ern wilderness. They threw away the fore-quarters, and 
were very liberal in proffers of the saddles to everybody 
within reach—presumably because they knew (if they 
know anything) that venison taken that way is not fit to 
eat. I protest against a game protection law that don’t 
protect, and lets loose in August, with their hired hounds, 
such human wolves—I beg pardon of the wolves, for 
hunger is at the bottom of their savagery, and not sport 
exclusively. The deer of the North Woods ought not to 
be hounded at any time of year. The open season should 
be made short as practicable, and festrictions put upon 
market hunting even within that period for years to 
come. We shall never get this important question of 
game preservation fairly and permanently settled until a 
commission, representing all sections of the State and 
every interest involved, shall be empowered by the Legis¬ 
lature to mature a sensible and efficient code. That is my 
opinion, and you can print it for what it is worth. 
H. H. Thompson, 
Farm for Sale. —Capt. John M. Taylor, a gentleman 
well known to many of our readers, desiring to return to 
England wishes to sell his fine farm in Nottoway Co,, Vir¬ 
ginia. Full particulars can be obtained by addressing 
Capt, Taylor at Bellefonte, Nottoway Co., Ya. 
Trophies.— We have received from the West a collec¬ 
tion of elk, moose, and mountain-sheep horns, some of 
which are unusually fine specimens, and when properly 
mounted will make very desirable library and drawing¬ 
room ornaments. The owner will dispose ®f these for very 
reasonable prices. They may be seen at this office, and 
our friends will find this an admirable opportunity to se¬ 
cure a pair of antlers. 
SOLD.—The gentleman who, over the initials J. G. S., 
advertised a gun for sale in a recent issue of this paper, 
desires ns to announce that the gun is sold. He had re¬ 
ceived twenty-seven letters, and they were coming by 
every mail. This is hut one of many letters we are con¬ 
stantly receiving bearing witness to the value of our ad¬ 
vertising columns. 
—On the 17th inst. navigation on the St. Lawrence 
River between Montreal and Quebec was entirely sus¬ 
pended on account of the dense smoke from forest fires. 
A TRIP TO NORTH PARK. 
(CONCLUDING PAPER.) 
jFROM OUR STAFF CORRESPONDENT. | 
T HE day had not broken when I crawled out from 
my warm blankets into the frozen air. The grass 
and underbrush were white with frost; the gelid water 
which I dipped from the murmuring stream struck a 
chill to my very marrow as I quaffed it, and the heap of 
white ashes before our tents, reminding mo of the genial 
warmth of last night’s fire, made me shiver as I looked 
at it. The stars still shown with undiminished br illian cy, 
except in the eastern sky, where they were beginning to 
pale, and the surrounding mountains appealed like black 
amorphous piles, their outlines being scarcely distin¬ 
guishable in the gloom. 
My preparations occupied hut a few moments, and only 
stopping to fight my pipe I trudged off into the darkness. 
There is a solitude, or perhaps a solemnity, in the few 
hours that precede the dawn of day which is unlike that 
of any others in the twenty-four, and which I cannot ex¬ 
plain or account for. Thoughts come to me at this time 
tliat I never have at any other. Often I have experienced 
the mental state to which I refer, and the locality or sit¬ 
uation has nothing to do with it. It comes when looking 
for the morning flight of ducks or geese in the populous 
East, just as it does while waiting for light to see deer in 
Nebraska, or when on some lofty peak of the Rocky 
Mountains I await the dawn to discover the whistling elk, 
or the bighorn cropping the tender grass on the steep 
hillside. Others, too, are influenced, I think, by some 
similar sensation, for when I have a companion with me 
at Such a time he is usually subdued and quiet, and when 
he speaks, does so below his breath, as though afraid of 
breaking the universal stillness. 
As J moved from camp no sound broke the silence 
of the morning, save the crackling of the sage brush 
twigs as I brushed' through them. Soon, how¬ 
ever, it began to grow light, and with the dawn 
came the general awakening, and the quiet was 
broken by the voices of many a bird and beast. 
The coyotes commenced their doleful concert, a prairie 
dog or two barked, and the little striped Tarni squeaked 
in anger or alarm as he scuttled away from my path. The 
soft twitter of the shorelark fell qpon my ear, and from 
the mountainside I heard the shrill call of a robin. 
When I had gone half a mile I tiu-ned into a little 
valley between two mountains, where I thought it likely 
that I might find some antelope, and hoped rather than 
expected to come across a deer. All my caveful hunting, 
however, availed nothing. I saw a few antelope, hut 
none of them were in situations where they could be ap¬ 
proached,- and after a three hours’ tramp I turned back 
towards camp without having fired a shot. The only 
game that I had been in range of was a bear, which I al¬ 
most walked onto while following a game trail through 
some willow brush. 1 heard his astonished “sniff,” and 
could see the tops of the willows shake as he ran off 
up the stream, but I could not catch a glimpse of the ani¬ 
mal himself. Travelling toward camp, somewhat out of 
humor at my lack of success, I spied on the side of a high 
bluff a white, moving spot, which I knew must be an an¬ 
telope,' and a look through my glass revealed the fact tha t 
the animal had already seen me, The distance between 
us was so great, however, that I thought it possible that, 
if I kept on my course, he would not take the alarm, and 
I might succeed in approaching under cover of the low 
hills between us. I therefore proceeded, gradually turn¬ 
ing away from him, and was gratified after a short time 
to see him commence to feed again. As soon as I got a 
bluff between the game and myself I approached as rapid¬ 
ly as possible, and in the course of ten. minutes I was with¬ 
in range. I peered cautiously over the top of the last low 
ridge and saw, through the grass and sage brush that 
crowned its summit, the noble buck standing with head 
and ears erect looking directly toward me. Aiming at 
the point of his breast I pulled the trigger, and he 
sank down on his side, and turning over on liis back, 
stretched out his slender legs, and with a shudder 
or two lay still. Slipping anothef cartridge into 
my rifle, I hurried towards the spot, and when within 
ten or fifteen yards of my game I became aware that he 
was not yet dead. He rose, staggered a few steps, and 
fell again, regarding me the while with a piteous expres 
sion that made me heartily regret having shot him. The 
ball had bored through his vitals and it seemed as if such 
a wound must necessarily be fatal at once, but still when 
I drew near he would rise and stagger on a little 
further. At length, however, by cautiously approaching 
him I got my hand on his horn, and in a moment the keen 
steel had touched his heart, and the black current spouted 
forth and trickled down the steep hillside. Taking one 
of the sirloins I hurried toward camp, and found the 
party about ready to start for Buffalo Creek, and as soon 
as breakfast was over, in company with W. I returned to 
the antelepe, packed him on my horse, and leading the 
animal down the road, loaded the meat on the wagon. 
W. and I then rode back toward the hills to pass 
behind a low mountain, and reached camp by another 
trail, 
We reached the top of the divide without seeing any¬ 
thing worth noting, but when we peeped over the preci¬ 
pice and looked down into the valley of Buffalo Creek, 
the sight we beheld was one to do a hunter’s heart good. 
There were probably a thousand antelope in sight, scattered 
over a broad plain several miles in length and a mil e in 
width, and we, from our vantage ground, could 
watch them unobserved. The oldest bucks were gen¬ 
erally single, lying down by themselves on the bare 
spots of the prairie, while the younger males were gath¬ 
ered together, three or four to a dozen matin glittle bands 
which seemed to keep pretty wel' apart both from the old 
bucks and the does and kids. These last were in consid¬ 
erable companies, often as many as ten or twelve does 
and twice that number of kids being grouped together on 
some spot where the grass grew rich and sweet. We sat 
and watched them for some time. It was a charming 
sight; but at length we turned back from the crest of the 
mountains and started to follow tile trail down into the 
plain. After going a few hundred yards, we found our¬ 
selves in a little pass less than one-quarter of a mile in 
width, through which were a dozen deeply worn ante¬ 
lope trails, and before long I saw a hand of antelope come 
cantering along the path, and in the distance another lot, 
following in the footsteps of the first. Dismounting be¬ 
hind a low hill, I handed my rifle to W., that bold moun¬ 
taineer having left his gun in the wagon. He was very 
anxious, however, to try to kill a big buck which brought 
up the rear of the first lot of antelope, and fortunately, 
although the remainder of the band ran swiftly by, this 
buck stopped when about sixty yards from us, and stood 
staring at us until the rifle cracked, when he fell and never 
stirred again. He was an unusually large animal, with 
very long wide spreading horns. While we were tying 
this antelope on a horse another still larger buck came up 
to the spot to investigate matters, and presented so fair a 
shot at one hundred and fifty yards, that I shot at him, 
killing him inhistracks. We were now approaching some 
settlements where we could dispose of meat and so had 
less scruples about killing game. 
Loading the antelope on one of the horses, we pro¬ 
ceeded to camp, resisting all temptation to kill further 
game. Before we reached our tents we were overtaken 
by a brhf but furious snow storm, and after it ceased 
could see that the summits of the neighboring mountains 
were white, though on the lower ground the snow melted 
as it fell. Later in the afternoon, while A. and Fuller 
were out hunting, another stonn of great violence came 
up, and snow fell to the depth of two inches. The absent 
hunters got a thorough wetting, although they tried to 
shelter themselves under the sage brush. 
From Buffalo Creek we proceeded toward Laramie, 
making no lengthened stops by the way. At the cross¬ 
ing of the Michigan we found the willow brush full of 
sharptailed grouse, which gave us good sport with our 
shot guns. I felt here, as I have so often in the West, 
the want of a good dog, for, to iffy notion, half the 
pleasure in shooting consists in observing the working of 
your dogs. I value my dogs so highly, however, that I 
am always afraid of losing them if I take them with me 
on such atrip, and so have never done it. 
On our return march we camped at Pinkham’s, on a 
small affluent of the Beaver, and near Leroy’s; and from 
this last-named place, as we reached there about one 
o’clock, W. and I rode in to Laramie in the afternoon, 
leaving the team to follow next day. We made the eight¬ 
een miles ill two hours and a quarter. The next day was 
devoted to packing our collections and preparing for our 
journey east. I ran up on the evening express to Como, 
where I saw my good friend, Reed, and after a pleasant 
chat with him, all too short, took the morning train for 
the East. 
As I look hack on the past ten years, and see what 
changes have taken place in these glorious mountains 
since I first knew them. I can form some idea of the 
transformations which time to come will work in the 
appearance of the country, its fauna, and its flora. 
The enormous mineral wealth contained in the rock- 
ribbed hills will be every year more fully developedi 
Fire, air, and water working upon earth, will reveal 
more and more of the precious metals, with the baser 
ores, now negleoted here, hut not less valuable from an 
economic point of view. Towns will spring up and flour¬ 
ish, and the pure, thin air of the mountains will be 
blackened and polluted by the smoke vomited from the 
chimneys of a thousand smelting furnaces; the game, 
once so plentiful, will have disappeared with the Indian ; 
railroads will climb the steep sides of the mountains and 
wind through their narrow passes, carrying huge loads of 
provisions to the mining towns, and returning trains wall 
be freighted with ore just dug from the bowels of tlio 
earth ; the valleys will be filled with fattening cattle, as 
profitable to their owners as the mines to their’s ; all ara¬ 
ble land will be taken up and cultivated, and finally the 
mountains will be stepped of their timbers and will be¬ 
come simply bald and rocky hills, The day when all 
this shall have taken place is distant no doubt, and will 
not be seen by the present generalion ; hut it will come. 
In the destruction of the nohle forests that now clothe 
these majestic hills lies a great danger. Water i3 scarce 
