188 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[OOTOBEE 0, 1881 



%nn\t ^ag and %tm. 



FOREST AND STREAM GAME TABLE 



OPE\ SEASONS. 



The seasons, lu which It is lawtul to shoot game In the several 

 States an! Territories, open as designated In the followlrnr table: 



Oct. 20. 

 Julyl.. 

 Sept i . 



Ala.' .. 



Call.-.. 



I'nl.,. 

 Conn . . 

 Dakota 

 Del." . . 

 D. C.n . AUJJ. 15. 



on, i... 



,. .' Q . i i L. 



Til 



End- .. 

 Iowa... 

 Kan. .. 

 KjF.... 



Soft, L. 



0'M., 1... 

 Sept. 1.. 



; - 



'.tigr. i... 

 jot i... 



Nov. 1 .. 

 ii i 



Peot i.. 

 oet. I... 

 An?. 1.., 

 Sept. 1.. 

 1-S4 



— Sept. a.. 



Oct. 15. 



.Inly 1 . 



Ocl ... 



Me.5... 

 Mass. 

 Mlcli.c 

 AUnn . 

 Miss. . 

 Mo.it.. 



Ner.. ', 



N. He.. 



N. Mex 



li !' '..'.', 



July 4.. 

 July I.. 

 July 10. 



Sept. 1 . 

 Mil,'. 1 . 

 A.UR. 1 . 



July 4.. 



sent, i . 

 Aug. l.. 



ICC, 



Or 



Ta 



at.., 



s. c... 



Trim.' 



Aurr. I . 

 Ju'fyV; 



Sept. ir>. 



Sept. 15. 



Probt'd. 

 Oct 1,.. 



Aug. ir... 

 Nov. '.... 

 NOV. I... 



..i 



Sept. i . . 



i 



flat 15.. 



NOT. 1. 



Oct SO.. 



Sept. 15 



1 [ 33 

 Ocl 15. 



Nov. 1. 



sept, 1 , 



Oct 1 . . 

 . Oct. 15.. 



Oft. 1... 



Sept. 1 . 

 . Sept. 1. 

 . Nov. 1 

 . Sept. i 

 .:Nov. 1. 



'Oct 1.. 



Nov. 1. 



Pinn- 

 ated 



tJmvue 



i 



Chiek- 



Kept.'iae 

 Oct P.. 

 Oet, 1... 

 Air.:. 15., 

 NOV, I .. 

 AUg. 1... 



oet. l... 



Oft, 15.. 

 .OCt 1... 



Oct 1.. 



Aug. 'is 

 se'rit.'i 



Aug. 1.. 



Aiii. ir, 

 sept. 1 . 



An;,'. 15 



. PioD'fl 

 J 1SS2 

 .Sept. 1, 



Oet. 15.. 



Am:. 15.. 



Sept. 1 

 Sept. 1 . . 

 Nov. 1 . . 

 Sept. 1.. 

 Sept. 1.. 

 Oct 1... 

 Sept. I., 

 • Pine 15. 



Oct. is. 

 Septl 



Nov. 1 

 July 1 



Oct l . 



Aug.! . 

 Sept i.. 



Aug. 1.. 



July 15. 



Nov. I.. 



Sept 



Oet la. 

 Aug. l.. 



epti.. 



sepi. ir,, 

 Sept. l.. 

 Aug. l... 



Aug. I... 

 Sent. 1 , 



Aug. 15.. 



Oct 20. 



Prob'eu 



Septl 



Oct i..loet l.. 



sept, i 



Aug. is sept. t. 

 Sept. 1. Nov. I. 

 Aug. l5,oct l.. 



Sept x. sept i". 



.... sept. t. 



Sept. J 



Sept l.'oct J.. 



Sept 1 



dOOt 1.. 



Seat 16 



--'lit. 1.5 

 JCt, 1.. 



Septl. 



Sept. l 



Oct. I.. 



NOV. 1. 



bct'is. 



sept. 1 . 

 Aug.!.. 



Sept. I 

 Sept. 1 



Aug. 1.. , 

 Sept. 1 . S 

 Aug. 15 i 



Sept. 15 

 Sept. 1 . 

 Sept. i . 



Antelope.— ogi, 



K. M6X , Sept. i 



■■ a'.'.— l.'OlO. 



a , 

 I i . ...—Ala., A 



; Neil.. Oct. i ; Nev., Aug. l 

 .ug. W. 

 N. Alex., Sept., l. 



., Oct, 1 j Kan., Aug, 1; JIIss., 



i.vv«-, jt.q., ,tu: v i , -,.u., -ei.j i ; i.a., uei. i ; ivau., 

 »pt 10 ; Mo., Aug, 1 ; N C, Oct. 1 ; S. < ., Oct. 15. 

 Klk.— Colo, Sept. I; Idaho, Aug i; Minn., Nov. 1 ; Neb., Oct. 1 ■ 

 Nov., Aug. 1; N. Hex., Sept. 1 ; Or , July I ; Utah, Aug. 1 ; Wyo., 



■te . Oct l ; N. n., Sept.. l « ; Ore., Julv 1. 



iluuiitam Sheep.— Cot. Sept. 1 ; Neb , Oet. 1 ; Nev., Aug. 1 ; N. ilex., 

 Sept. 1 : Utah. Ana:, i ; Wyo., Aug. 15. 



yw.-r.-D. c, Sept. i ; Me., Aug. 1 ; SIo., Aug. 1 ; Nev., Sept 1 ; N. 

 H., Aug. 1 ; Pa., July 15 ; R. I Aug. 1. 



Aait — Del.. Sept, 5 ; N. J., Sept. ; Pa., Sept. 1. 



Aetdbird.— Del., Sept. 5; D. C. Sept. 1 ; N. J., Aug. 25 ; Pa., Sept. 1. 



Snipe:— Dakota, Aug. 15 ; D. c, Sept. 1 ; Nev., Sept. i ; N. C, Oct. IB. 



1 aiaa ,tUlg a, 



enectady, Sa 

 waters opet 



an July I; 



V/ildiee 1 



A DAY WITH THE HOUNDS. 



TWENTY years ago the forests along Pine Creek were 

 well stocked with game, and during the hunting season 

 Og .a an ae-juhl be heard almost every day telling 

 the story Of a chase; and suggesting a venison supper. A 

 fleer was no unusual sight then, ami the iraveler along the 

 river mad would frequently be startled liva splash, and look- 

 ing round would see the victim of the chase coolirg himself 

 •wiih. a swim of by hurried draughts of water. Someiimes lie 

 might tee B more' exciting eight, when the hounds came he- 

 fore the deer left the stream, and might find ample field for 

 sympathy, whether sportsman or not, in the struggle for life 

 between the tired animals. 



Those days, with their rich harvest of sport, will never be 

 again. The pioneer's axe bus extended the line of 

 clearing, and the crash of falling irecs have frightened away 

 the liniid deer that have taken refuge in the mountains too 

 far back to be cultivated. The "runways" of that time are 

 corn fie ds to-day, and the sickle and hoe have succeeded the 

 rifle ; _ Tie idols of the sportsman are broken, and the march 

 of civilization has trodden down his choicest treasure leaving 

 him only the despised portions of his old-time territory on 

 which to found a new empire suitable for his palron saint, 

 Diana. 



if sportsmen were easily discouraged there would be little 

 hunting done now, but faith and persistence are the leading 

 traits of character developed by the true sportsmin, and the 

 in erest and hopefulness that be would exhibit under themost 

 dismal Circumstances are something wonderful. The music 

 of the hounds as they follow a track, old enough perhaps to 

 be an ancient landmark, exhilarates him nearly as much as the 

 sight of game, and ihe transparent Jies that he will tell to ac- 

 count for the return of the hountls without a deer are simply 

 Intoxicating. He will not lose faith in final success, no matter 

 how unfortunate his first few da; s' experience may be, and 

 with serene belief prepares every day for a venison steak for 

 supper, A whole volume might be written on the discipline 

 a man must undergo before ho can become a professional 

 bunlcr, but as litis is not a proper place for such an account 

 it is omitted, and our story is resumed. 



On one of the pleasant days of last November a party of 

 four, embracing one professional hunter and three amateurs, 

 started fi r a week's hunting, taking with them all necessary 

 equipments and five of the best hounds that could be f uud 

 in the village - long, silky-eared animals, whose clean limbs 

 and thoroughbred coloring distinguished them from the ordi- 

 dog and told Iheir aristocratic lineage. Nothing that 

 isional I iinter could think of was omitted and the fer- 

 tility <d' such an Individual's mind is really confusing; so 

 rig, indeed, that at this time title of the amateurs can 

 Sfij What benefit, was derived from some of the articles he 

 !■ apiv, nor can they explain why the inventory 

 of the pr perty was so remarkably short when they relumed. 

 Professional hunters are expensive and mysterious, but aside 

 fioni these annoying qualities they are a beneficent instil ui ion 

 and dest'i ve to be patronized. 



The first few days were not successful, so far as , results 



were concerned, but the practices were beyond reproach. 

 Everything was conducted on purely professional principles. 

 The hounds were fed just so much and at just such times ; 

 Ihe gU&S were cleaned, oiled and primed, and the hunling 

 knives were sharpened with as much care us would have been 

 used had a hundred elk been killed every day. The amateurs 

 were getting discouraged, but. the professional was as un- 

 moved and sanguine IB he could have been if he had believed 

 his own lies. No matter what was said, the same calm proph- 

 ecy of final good fortune was made, and at last it came. 



The hounds were taken, as usual, far up among the moun- 

 tains, several miles from the river, to be started. The usual 

 examination for fresh tracks was made, and this lime it- was 

 successful. In the head of one of the large basins that are 

 found between the mountain--, a number of deer had spent 

 the night and the hounds immediately started with such a 

 chorus of baying as would delight any sportsman. They went 

 slowly at first, following the tracks where the doer had been 

 feeding, the paths frequently crossing each othpr and troub- 

 ling ihe hounds to follow thenif but at last they got 

 fairly started ; and off through the dense forest the "staiter" 

 beard their music, now in short, hurried barks when they 

 were near the game, and again in long, deep, but infrequent 

 bays as the scent was less fresh. They were going in the 

 right direction and the "starter's" work was done. He could 

 only hope for success and wonder whether ihe amateurs or 

 the professional would get the first shot, 



Several miles below the men were stationed on the run- 

 ways near the river awaiting developments. They had been 

 on the same runways several previous days waiting for game 

 and none had come, which had discouraged all but one so 

 much that considerable persuasion was required to get them 

 out. But on this day they wete more than repaid for the 

 ill-luck of the preceding watches and the one who had been 

 steadfast in his fnith was looked to as a prophet. 



At first they henrd only an occasional sound from old Colo- 

 nel, the strongest hound in the pack, but in a few moments 

 the earneEt barking of all was heard coming steadily toward 

 the watchers. The bark was the "game bark " loo, not the 

 discouraged howl of a hound off sceiit, and the men on the 

 runways prepared for the expected game. Locks and triggers 

 were examined and the priming in every tube carefully re- 

 placed with new powder. Everything was done to prevent 

 accident when the time for action came, and the men, fully 

 prepared, but a little nervous, sat, down and waited for the 

 hounds to come in. 



The waiting is one of the trying points of a sportsman's 

 life, and one in which his coolnessand patience are manifestedj 

 if he have any. The hounds come slowly, and as their deep 

 baying can be heard for mi'es, it is sometimes over an hour 

 after they are first heard before the game is driven in ; and 

 all this time the hunter must wait, feeling lhat honor is to be 

 lost or won when Lbs d : slant barking that, he is listening to 

 reaches him. Sometimes the deer leave the runways, that 

 with si range instinct they follow as men do the public streets, 

 and come into ihe river at unexpected places; hut this is 

 unusual, and if all the runways are guarded, some one is 

 pretly sure to get a shot at any game that may be started. 

 Bach mountain and valley has its deer paths, many of ihem 

 worn like the cattle palhs in a pasture: and whenever the 

 timid animals are started they hasten along these paths into 

 ('auger, iustcad of away from it, as instinct might be sup- 

 posed to teach them. 



After waiting for half an hour and listening to the bark- 

 ing of the haimds gr owing louder and less musical as it 

 came nearer, the watehen were start led by a couple of shots 

 in what seemed to I e Ihe locality of the hounds. They were 

 somewhat surprised atil very much annoys.-'! by the occur- 

 rence, and even the professional was afraid some one had 

 killed the game and left the rightful owners of it to their 

 usual bad luck. In a few moments, However, the, barking 

 was resumed, and i' was decided that a mistake had been 

 made in thinking the shots were fired near the hounds. 



The music of the chase came Di are-I and nearer, and every 

 mnu was at his post, with gun ready, wail ing for the expected 

 deer. Nothing was unnoticed, and ihe flying of a bird or 

 the rustling of a twig was a signal for the hearer to raise his 

 gun to his face; and the flight of a disturbed squirrel threw 

 even the professional into position for a shot. Everything 

 lhat stirred excited them, and it, would have been impossible 

 for a rabbit to move without being detected, so watchful were 

 they. 



At last the deer came in sight, three of them dashing over 

 the brow of a hill nearly half a mile away and coming down 

 the hill in great leaps that only deer can make. It was 

 scarcely more than a minute before they passed Ihe watching 

 places, but there was time to admire their beauty and the 

 unequaled grace of their movement. Writers sometimes 

 speak of the poeiry of motion, but the phrase is meaningless 

 until a d-er is seen running wild in his native forest Such. 

 perfect grace combined with strength, such agility and such 

 infinite ea^e ... n .pare worth a journey across the 

 continent to see. Every motion seems a courtesy, and a 

 sentimental sportsman almost lostshis desire for spoils as he 

 watches the graceful mjlveineril'S of the tender eyed game 

 coming to slaughter. 



In this case ihe sport, -.men were not sentimental, and after 

 a moment's admiration every man prepared for the coming 

 deer. In a moment they came bounding along the runway 

 on which the amateurs were stationed, with the hounds so 

 far behind that they could not be seen. As they went by ihe 

 hunters the rifles were discharged, and then the deer fairly 

 flew in their mad dash toward the river. Whether they had 

 hit any of the deer or not the hunters could not tell, and they 

 hurried toward the river, which they reached just in time to 

 see the professional discharge both barrels 'if his gun it 

 deer as they were drinking. There were, only two in the 

 water and both were killed in less than a minute by the ex- 

 pert professional, who, with all his faults, was an unusually 

 skillful woodsman and hunter. A search discovered the 

 third deer lying dead a few rods from the runway, having, 

 as is usual, left the path after being hit. and in a few mo- 



ents three dead deer 

 on hy the happiest ar 

 Creek ever saw. The 

 were happy. Whose s 

 but they had 6 5 

 Tiny could go back , 

 success to wondering 

 to content 



■hot ha'l killed him they did not know: 



I a-i ween them, and that WHS enough. 



th ir la me and lei! the story of their 



friends; and what more was necessary 



sportsmen ? It was a lu< k ; . I . 



them, and they would have goni, home satisfied if some un- 



oUhimlcr" had !;Ol, aia.l oae of thfiir lea, ids 

 After the deer were dressed they looked around for their 

 hounds and soon found all but Colonel, win) was missing-, 

 lhey called him ami searched everywhere, but were at las. 

 obliged to give him up as lost. The mystery of the two shots 

 was explained, and they knew that the brave old hound that 



always led the pack was a victim to the hate of men who 

 hunt without dogs. The loss was a sad one and marred the 

 otherwise complete day, but the grand success of their hunt 

 made them practically forget the misfortune, and they all 

 look back upon the Pine Creek trip as the ni' sf. successful 

 one they have ever taken. Hounds die every day, but such 

 a pair of antlers as were won in that, hunt are found but ouce 

 in a century. 



REMINISCENCES OP FORTY YEARS. 



SECOND PAl'KB. 



VISITING a planter in the valley of Alabama, in 1848, 

 near the Cumberland River, a party from Dtcatur, 

 Ala, , my host and myself made up our minds for a deer hunt. 

 We started early in the morning, mounted on horst s and 

 mules. Heavy rains had prevailed for some days and the 

 river was greatly swollen. We soon came to a bit of river 

 boi torn where the country road was overflowed for a distance 

 Of some three or four hundred yards. All the old hunters 

 mournfully shook their heads at the prospect of fording it, 

 knowing from many former overflows the length and depth 

 we had to go through. 



My friend, a spare built, wiry gentleman, not more than 

 130 pounds or so in weight, ami mounted on his regular hunt- 

 ing pony, was ready eLOtigh on his part, and asked if any one 

 or more would go with him. I said I would follow, but the 

 rest turned back. I was mounted on a mule, Billy, a sure- 

 footed animal, and frequently need for breasting deer on 

 these still hunts. My friend on bis pony went ou very well 

 for 100 yards, getting deeper, uutil half up the pony's sides. 

 All at once the pony struck out swimming, but so high and 

 far out of water lhat my friend kept dry enough by tucking 

 up his legs. Not so Billy, the mule. When he came to this 

 hole, a descent of road some six to eight feet of water, he, 

 too, struck out with his head and neck out of water, but his 

 body and mine submerged. Still on we went, and pulled 

 through. We then dismounted, shook our wet clothes and 

 galloped off to an old squire's house, some two miles, where 

 we were shown lo a room with a blazing log fire, dried our 

 things, dined with the old squire and his three good looking 

 daughters, lit our pipes and mounted again at S i\ m, for the 

 mountains. We reached our destination at nightfall, a com- 

 fortable log cabin, that held in its fireplace a cord of hickory 

 if required. 



Next day came our breasting for deer on horseback. Some 

 half dozen were mounted, myself on Billy the mule. We 

 agreed not to shoot at scything but large game, meaning 

 deer, bear, wolf, &c. We rode on a line with each other, 

 about 100 yards apart, through timber with little or no un- 

 derbrush, making a heath of 600 yards in all. Each bait a 

 horn (cow's horn) to blow whetra successful shot was fired. 

 We had gone probably a mile and had seen nothing, when 

 Billy began to snort, pricked forward his eats and stood still, 

 trying to call my attention to his object, which I saw, a Te- 

 markahle looking thing, at a stump of a tree, which I could 

 not make head nor tail of. However, I considered it large 

 game, and surely wild, let drive my little 14-gauge and rolled 

 over the creature, took the cow horn and blew my blast. 

 Down came two of the huntsmen. "What have ye got, 

 what have yc got v " 1 said, " The devil of a rum looking 

 thing," and walking the mule up to it — Why, 'tis a 'possum. 

 So it was, but a tremendous large one. We strapped him be- 

 bind on Billy, and that evening at the log cabin ho was well 

 cleaned and laid on the shingles over the frosty night. Now 

 comes the Booking. First— Well cleaned and wiped out after 

 the frost had dissolved; stuffed with breadcrumbs — s.veet 

 potatoes aud something the — some herbs, lemon, Ihyme, I 

 think — sewed up and a grave was made in the deep ashes of 

 this, monster fit-place. The 'possum was then submerged 

 in water and laid in the ash grave (like roasting a potato). 

 Well covered up and two or thro'- shovell'ulls ol hickory coals 

 around and on top the ash heap — toals renewed as fast as 

 required until some two hours or more, when the 'possum 

 was laid on the table, and with a c'oth the hair removed as 

 easily as scraping a carrot — the skin and flesh as white as 

 milk — smoking hot, clone through and through— put ou the 

 table hot— hot— hot — and no cold 'possum was left after a 

 half-dozen hungry hunters had got through. Well, nothing of 

 the kind could be finer! What flavor was in the 'possum! 

 Potatoes and fixings — remained sieaming throuefi under a 

 bushel of live coals and ashes. This was my first 'possum I 

 had ever seen cooked and ate, and the first and last I ever 

 shot, la the early spring of ly,i3 we started before day- 

 light to catch ti e. old gobblers, calling them before they flew 

 oil their roosting-place. My first old gobbler- shot from off 

 a very high tree, he fell— ran like a race-horse— myself after 

 him, until he gave up the ghost. This tree was sixty-' our 

 yards from where I was and high timber — one shot only did 

 its work, cutting his throat as clean as a .knife could have 

 done. He ran until he bled lo death. 



My second shot was at a fine hen-turkey roosting on a very 

 high tree in a swamp, which I could not creep nearer than 

 one hundred yaids without being up to my middle while 

 viewing the situation. She took flight, coining straight for 

 me, for fifty or sixty yards, when she turned to the right and 

 at the time of passing me (so that I would be shooting " be- 

 hind the feathers") she must have been from ninety to one 

 hundred yards off. I was using a $25-gun bought in St. 

 Louis. The right barrel shot, remarkably close, i pulled 

 the right trigger and down came the bird. On examining 

 her I found that the charge had bunched, entered above 

 the rump, gone through the body, coming out the crop. The 

 space — a hole at the entrance— was as large as a turkey's egg. 

 One might, shoot a hundred years, and not have such an oc- 

 currence again. My next wa< a double shot from the saddle 

 by the Cumberland River. Ten large gobblers rose on wiBg 

 some forty yards before me. I pulled my pony round to the 

 right, shot well forward for (heir heads and necks, and at 

 each right and left crack they tumbled— shot through the 

 head— kept bounding up in their dying flutter. They 

 weighed forty-eight pouuds together, and when Iheir heads 

 were tied together and swung across the pony at the horn of 

 the sa die their feet touched the ground. 



In Crawford Co., Missouri, in 1867, uear where I was stop- 

 ping was a cornfield at the back. On two or three occasions 

 Use folks came running in the house tome— "The turkeys 

 are in the cornfield." I hurried wiih my gun the flr>t aud 



second time, only to find som 

 way near the fence, and scared [hem Off- 

 get eff on the least alarm. The third time, t 

 them there, and creeping through some haw 

 a fange of two heads pretty we'll 

 pulled ihe right barrel. Then came the uprising of the brood 

 of full-grown fellows fattened on mast and corn, being in 

 October full-moulted. The first barrel killed the two I saw, 

 and one further down the furrow soma forty yards, which I 



gb a pa'h- 

 B SO easily 

 >r, I caught 

 iesnear the 



2 so that I 



