404 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



Dbormbbb 33, 1891 



MAGAZINE RIFLES FOR THE ARMY. 



AN important duty devolves upon the Board and officers 

 now in session at Governors' Island, who nave been 

 charged by Gen. Sherman with the recommendation ol a maga- 

 zine gun lor the use of the U. S. Army. It is not intended to 

 make any sweeping change in the armament of our soldiers 

 until the whole subject of repealing weapons has been more 

 thoroughly worked up by our inventors ; any change or step 

 in the arming of the troop must be of a tentative character. 

 That the magazine gun is the coming piece for the ordinary 

 soldier is regarded as a foregone conclusion by the leading 

 military authorities of every Commonwealth possessing an 

 armed force. A dozen commissions are now face to face 

 with the problem of selection. It is a sort of eornpetiiion 

 between the nations as well as between the arms, and the 

 verdict of the representatives of one nation is eagerly looked 

 to by the examining boards of other nations. Especially 

 will this be the case with the report of the Board now in 

 session here. America has gained the front rank in the 

 making of small arms, and the rifle championship, - now 

 resting with the American team,', shows that she can shoot 

 as well as invent. Nations desiring to buy a supply of these 

 weapons come to America as the readiest and best market. 

 The "rain of lead" at Plevna was fired from rifles made in 

 Connecticut, aad from the same State hundreds of thousands 

 of stands of arms have gone to other nations of Europe, to 

 the States of South America, and even to far away Japan. 

 The leading magazine model, pushed for adoption before the 

 German authorities to supplant the breech-loading Manser, is 

 a pirated copy of a gun invented by a Lieutenant of the U. S. 

 Army. It was displayed at the Centennial Exhibition, and 

 there a German Jew of a mechanical turn of mind saw it, 

 and stole the idea for reproduction at home. 



The modern rifle has had a marked effect in modifying 

 the art of war. The skirmish line has taken the place of 

 the old movement in force, and the necessity for accuracy of 

 marksmanship on the part of every soldier is every day be- 

 coming more imperative. The rising problem, too, is one 

 of supply. The breech-loader gave the men an opportunity 

 of rapid firing, and this they improved to such an extent as 

 to make the supply of ammunition to the fighting line an 

 important question. With magazine guns the consumption 

 of ammunition runs up to alarming proportions, and to 

 meet this difficulty the German Army authorities are adopt- 

 ing the "firing discipline." In this the fighting unit is 

 represented by a skirmish line of a dozen men under an 

 officer. Instead of random firing, as now under an engage- 

 ment, the men shoot only on special orders of their officer. 

 The intention is to prevent the men from falling into the 

 error of an excited fusillade. The same object as this 

 novely in discipline is aimed at in the requirement that all 

 arms shall be adapted to use as single breech-loaders as well 

 as magazine guns. Iu that way the use of the reservoir for 

 thots can be delayed until the supreme moment, when a dozen 

 shots in as many seconds is an element of victory. 



Plvikg Bquikbels. — English misconceptions of American 

 geography are proverbially gross and frequent. We are al- 

 ways pleased, then, when an English paper really tlocs dis- 

 play familiarity with the subject, as is the ease with an 

 esteemed London contemporary. Speaking of the animal 

 plagues of Winnipeg, which our readers will remember is up 

 in Manitoba, Land and Water tells us that in the autumn, 

 " the time when the [Winnipeg] cotton and corn reeds were 

 ripening and maturing, myriads of squirrels left the woods 

 and attacked the cotton and cornfields ; they tore open the 

 balls of the cotton plants, ate all the seed, and scattered the 

 cotton on the ground ; they devoureel the kernels of the 

 corn and then scampered off to Mississippi and Tennessee, 

 where they met with a warm reception, and were shot down 

 by hundreds." Now, from Winnipeg to Mississippi, the 

 elistnuce is, as the crow flies and the scpiirrel scampers, only 

 a trifle over 1,300 miles, and to an American squirrel, as any 

 inau who has ever hunted them knows, a little "scamper" of 

 1,21)0 miles is the merest play. He can go very fast and very 

 far, when he once makes up his mind to travel away from a 



man with a rifle. Indeed, we have seen squiirels I : 



going from Manitoba to Mississippi would take in Mount 

 Washington and Pike's Peak on the way, and then not get 

 up faction enough to set the Michigan woods on fire. 



Death of a FrsnouLTUBAi, Pioneer.— We regret to 

 chronicle the death of Mr. Aaron S. Vail, of Smitbtown, 

 Long Island. Mr. Vail owned a fine trout-stream ; and he 

 entertained many prominent men in days past. Dame 

 Webster and Henry Clay fished in his stream and partook of 

 the hospitalities of bistable. Mr. Vail engaged iu trout- 

 breeding when he first heard of it, about I860, and his ponds 

 are mentioned in Horns' " American Fish Culture," pub- 

 lished in 1878, as among those of the early trout culturists. 



Michigan Sportsmen's Association.— The seventh an- 

 nual session of the Michigan Sportsmen's Association, for 

 the protection of Fish, Game and Birds, will be held at 

 East Saginaw, commencing Tuesday, January 17, 1882, at 

 10 o'clock A. m. Every sportsmen's and game protection 

 club in the State is earnestly requested to send five delegates, 

 and in localities where no club has been formed sportsmen 

 are cordially invited to attend. One of the results of the 

 last session was the present game law.. 



THE BIG BEAR OF HERMOSA. 



IT was evening, and our late dinner was over. Pipes, and 

 a tin-cup full of mild grog soothed the fatigues of a ten 

 hours' hunt, and steeped our souls in blissful bairn. The 

 day's sport had been good -two elk and five deer the net re- 

 sult— and we felt that we had a right "to loaf and refresh 

 our souls." The diy was dying a peaceful death, and be- 

 hind us the gray cliffs of Waluta were slowly darkening in 

 the failing light, Ont of the valley below we heard the voice 

 of the Hermosa, as it babbled to the spruces which leaned 

 above it, or chafed at the cold rocks which barred its pas- 

 sage. It was one of those hours when the hunter, if he be 

 anything more than a purveyor of meat, or a killer of deer, 

 feels as if he stood within the very presence of the great 

 Mother herself, and knows the radiance of "that light which 

 never was on sea nor land." Half unconscious])', I repeated 

 the drowsy words of the Lotos-Eaters: 

 " The i-hannei] sunset- lingers low aciown 



r H i tie red West ; thro 1 mountain clefts, the dale 



Wo see far Inland ; and the winding valo 



And meadow, set with slender gallngale. 



And liere are cool mosses deep, 

 And thro 5 the moss the ivies creep, 

 And In the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, 

 And from tlie craggy ledge the poppy hangs In sleep.'' 

 Roused by the murmur of the words, Ignotus took his pipe 

 from between his teeth long enough to languidly remark, 

 " Somebody coming down the trail." 

 "How do you know?'' 

 "Hear 'em." 

 "Foot or horseback?" 

 "Horseback." 

 " White or red ?" 

 "White ; horses shod." 

 " Know who they are ?" 



"The May boys, I reckon. Camp over on the Larriweep. 

 Hunting. Taking meat down to the ranches." 



As he spoke, a horse's head came around the shoulder of 

 the bluff, a quarter of a mile above, and iu a few miuutcs, 

 three horsemen stopped on the trail, while we sauntered 

 slowly down to them. 

 "How?" 

 "How?" 

 "Which way?" 



"Down to Trippe's with meat. What luck ?" 

 "Pretty fair. And you ?" 



"So so. Deer gettiu' scarce. Cussed Utes burniu' off the 

 woods. Say, you boys want some fun ?" 

 "Depends. What kind?" 



" Well, Slippery Dick's back, up here at the head of Her- 

 mosa. Crossed his trail just this side of Batterses Spring. 

 There's a chance for ye, Tenderfoot, if you want sport. Reck- 

 on he'll give ye enough of it. So long. Got to be goin'. 

 Give ye a dollar fur his skin, when ye get it. Vamosl 

 Pia-a-a !" and they clattered down the trail. 



"Slippery Dick ? Who the mischief's be, Igootus ?"' 

 "He's a she." 



"A she ? What kind of a she?" 



"A she-bear, and a she-devil loo, if all accounts are true," 

 and be went on to tell me, how, for several years, hunters 

 had reported that they had found, now and then, the trail of 

 a bear, so large as to be phenomenal — how she would be 

 found one day on El Conquistador, and the next on Dos 

 Hermanos, fifty miles away — how she seemed to bear a 

 charmed life, minding a .44 bullet no more than a flea-bite- 

 how, at uncertain intervals, some unlucky prospector, pale- 

 faced and knock-kneed, would stumble into camp with in- 

 coherent jabber of "the durndest biggest bear y' ever see : 

 bigger 'n all out doors, and savager 'n h — 11" — and how Pat 

 O'Brien, who had killed more bears in Nevada than ever 

 Grizzly Adams himself, swore, after being treed by her for a 

 day and a night, ' that the hid of her was 88 big as a flour 

 barrel, and the claws of her like raping hooks, an' whin she 

 rached fur me, as I clim the tray, be jabers, she made the 

 bark tly, fifteen fut from the ground, sor." 



Making all due allowance' for exaggeration, Ignotus was 

 inclined to believe that there was a monstrous bear which 

 had its haunt in that section of country — that she was an 

 exceedingly cunning old beast, as well us fierce and danger- 

 ous — that to kill ber would be a feather in the cap of any 

 hunter— and finally, warming with the subject, that, if I 

 said so, we'd move camp up to the head of Hermosa, and 

 see if we might not "be lucky enough to get a crack at 

 ber." 



As I would have gone to the mouth of the pit, or even 

 further, with Ignotus, and as, besides, I " thought no small 

 beer of myself" as a bear-hunter, having actually slaugh- 

 tered two or three small cubs by my own unassisted prowess, 

 I gladly agreed to the proposal. 



"Ever see any of those explosive bullets?" asked Ignotus 

 after a pause. 

 " Yes, why?" 



"Wish we had some of them; they'd come in mighty 

 handy, if we should happen to have a see-ancc with the old 

 lady." 



After cogitating awhile — " Got your loading outfit with 

 you ?" 

 "Yes." 



" Let me see your bullet moulds." 

 TheBe produced and inspected, 



" Got any of those .33 cartridges you use in your grouse 

 rifle ?" 



1 ' Why ? What do you want with them ?" 

 ' Make our own bum-shells, by thunder!" 

 "How?" 



"Get 'em out, and I'll show you." 



And show me he did, in a way I will endeavor to explain. 

 My moulds were of the Sharps pattern, .44 calibre, conical 

 bullet, lead poured iu from small end. Covering butt of 

 bullet, a plate which unscrews. So much explanatory — now 

 for detail. Taking a .fcl2 rim-fire cartridge, he cut off the 

 bullet, flush with the shell, then, finding a nail, he filed it 

 down, leaving on the head, till it was just the size and length 

 of bis prepared cartridge. Inserting this into the lead-hole 

 in the moulds he unscrewed I be butt- plate, poured in his 

 melted lead, shook out the bullet, extracted the nail, inserted 

 his 82 cartridge, and lo ! an explosive bullet. Trial proved 

 them to be a grand success. If a bone were struck, they 

 never failed to explode, and a second shot was seldom need- 

 eel. By a lucky chance, I once dropped one into the shoul- 

 der of a large cinnamon bear, at three hundred and fifteen 



yards, and he dropped as if struck by a flash of lightning. 

 They are bad for deer or elk, as I hey spoil so much of the 

 meat, but for I rsns they are just the thing. 



Early dawn sees us toning up the rocky trail which leads 

 to the head of Hermosa. Nomad though I have been for the 

 greater part of my life, I cannot: leave a place where i have 

 comfortably settled down for even a day, without feeling a 

 slight touch of regret. 



The camp-fire becomes a sacred hearth, and one does not 

 take away with him in the morning all that he brought the 

 night before. Somewhat he leaves behind— invisible, in- 

 tangible, but none the less real. A part of his true self, of 

 the " inner me," as Emerson would term it, is caught and 

 retained by the branches of the tree under which his bed has 

 been made, by the boughs on which he has lain, by the air 

 which he has breathed, and by the sky which has arched 

 about, him. As we rode along, there came into my mind 

 some verses which the Rhymer bad read me a few days be- 

 fore, and which expressed so well my present mildly regret- 

 ful feelings, that I offer no further apology for presenting 

 them here. 



All! happy he 



Who 'neatli the green wood tree, 



Doth loose hts mind from every carklnjr care ! 

 Dull gross exuviie, which from him tall away, 



And leave revealed his better sett, divinely fair ! 



Green forest houghs, 

 Under a fir-tree house, 

 Bring sweeter sleep than Sybaritic couch ; 



And simple hunter's fare, wit Ii w aft of spicy air, 

 Excels all Oapuan feasts LucuUus dare uv oneh. 



Baehhaser thought 



From crowded cities brought 



Upon these breezy heights doth pale and die. 



Tlie dull and puzzled brain grows clear and strong again ; 

 The ailing, purblind soul sees Truth with clearer eye. 



Ah ! blessed school 



Where Wisdom plays the fool, 



And Nature grants perpetual holiday ! J 



Where volumed lore is none, save tree and brook, and stone, 

 And he doth win the highest prize, who spends Ma time In play 



Each charmed spot 



Where It hath been my lot 



To pitch white tent, and take noniadK 



Some tender memory hath, some bourf to tied aftorm at h 

 Of sweetly fragrant thoughts that bios i u m my breast. 



A balanced good — 



Here in the piny wood 



New thoughts, new hope, and newer life I And: 



And yet, O fickle heart '. when comes the time to part, 

 Somewhat of thought, of hope, of life, Is left behind. 

 A paradox 



At which the dullard mocks ! 

 Who reads my riddle, f] is wise; 



That which I spend, I ha 

 if mine the Sybil's tongue. 



e, and what I talte, I leave : 

 be yours the Seer's eyes 



At the very head of the canyon was a little circular park 

 of perhaps ten acres, where bubbled up the spring which fed 

 the bead waters of the Hermosa, and here we pitched our ' 

 tent. m \j , 



The remainder of the day was devoted to reconnoitering, 

 and after supper we developed our plan of battle. Half a 

 mile below us was an extensive patch of wild parsnip, and 

 here our friend Richard had left his sign manual in profusion, 

 the night before. We felt certain he would return to-night, 

 as the wild parsnip is lo a bear, what Cherrystones or Sad- 

 dle-rocks are to a New Y'ork Alderman. From this ursine 

 supper-room there were but three passes leading to the rocky 

 fastnesses, where, we felt assured, he had bis lair. ( j( these, 

 one was the canyon itself, and that was blocked by our tent 

 and camp-fire; the others led respectively, to the crests of 

 Waluta on our right, and El Conquistador on the left. Wo 

 would each occupy one of these, and it would go hard, if one 

 or the other did not succeed in intercepting the prey, as he 

 wended his way homeward in the morning twilight.' 



The jewels that sparkle in the sword-belt of Orion had not 

 yet lost their lustre, when 1 was snugly ensconced in my 

 chosen ambush. Joseph Cook would' have pronounced the 

 position "proudly selected, and haughtily strategic." Backed 

 by a cliff a hundred feet in height— my flanks defended by 

 perpendicular escarpments of rocks — in front, the vertical 

 banks of the gulch which was the only outlet on that side, 

 from the canyon below — I was equtdly well situated for at- 

 tack or defense. From my eyrie, I had a clean sweep of the 

 gulch for a thousand yards below, while screened from ob- 

 servation by the boulders which left convenient peep-holes 

 between. The only access to my mountain fot'talice was by 

 a narrow path from above, so steep, that, having with diffi- 

 culty descended, 1 had serious doubts as lo whether I should 

 ever be able to return. Strong in the possession of explosive 

 bullets and an impregnable position, i felt that. I was equal 

 to twenty bears, even should they all attack meat once. I 

 hoped that Slippery Dick, like myself, loved the sterner side 

 of Nature, and would therefore choose the path to Conquis- 

 tador with all its gloom and grandeur, rather than the softer 

 approaches to Waluta, where Ignotus had posted himself. 

 Besides, the death of one bear, though he were the largest in 

 all the San Juan, would add but little to his fame, while to 

 me it would furnish a blast, with which "to fill the sound- 

 ing trump of fame," for many a year. (In justice to Ignotus, 

 I must say, that when he found that all the signs pointed to 

 our enemy's having bis den on Conquistador, he insisted on 

 my taking that stand for my own.) 



Wrapped in my blanket, and propped comfortably against 

 the rock, I prepared myself for the due observance of a 

 hunter's vigil. The air was keen and frosty, with just 

 sting enough in it to slir the sluggish blood, and redolent 

 with those woodsy odors that only the trackers of the wil- 

 derness know. There was the balsamic odor of the spruce, 

 giving a tingling fillip to every vibrating nerve— the aro- 

 matic fragrance, of the wild celery, like a faint aroma from 

 the Spice Islands, and the far off Celebes— the quiet, domes- 

 tic smell of the. lavender grass, recalling tender memories of 

 Eastern homes, aud the opening of ancient bureau drawers, 

 front which are brought, by loving bands, the old-fashioned 

 garments of those who now wear the shining robes of Liaht 

 —and, reinforcing and at times overpowering all, wafts oi 

 the cloying sweetness of the wild buck-wheat, stirred by 

 wing of early bumble-bee. Far down in the valley, a thou- 

 sand feet helow, phantom curves of mist marked the line of 

 the hurrying brook, and, faintly audible from those lower 



depths, camo, like the stir of a mighty congregation, that in 



