January 13, 1882.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



467 



to quote a few lines from a letter just, received in c 

 with this- SuMeet. The letter i drill, N. Y., andi 



dated Dec. aYi "SoinethingJs playing the mischief with 

 game birds about here. Early in the fall th n 



many quail and grouse — mprB, in fact, than '■;- ton 



years oufore— but~ all at once - number 



were found dead in the fields and forests, but I have 3 



able to account for it, us I bavi my mark 



ou it, and that looked as if a weasel had killed it. Li was a 



grous. ai the tickec-i flies on i\" 



My friend goes on to say that hewka are unusually numer- 

 ous and this, I think, is there the disappearance of 

 birds. When we think of the many enemies our gams 

 birds have, as enumerated in > our runny letters, it is B won- 

 der that any live over. In the first place, there are the hawks 

 and owls, always OU the Watch From one year's end to the 

 other, a pair of hawks will stick to a bevy of quail day 

 after day, aud ii opt disturbed, Will use up a bevy, sometimes, 

 to the last bird. Then there are the weasels, mink-, skunks, 

 cats, crows, foxes, etc., etc.., - on the alert for 

 quail md grot through— to say nothing Of the 

 itly-increafling number Of sportsmen arrued. with the 

 deadly choke-bored breech-loader, and all this destruction is 

 assisted by pot-hunters, nets, traps and severe winters. File3 

 and disease I have left out of the question. 



Now, when you think of all the poor birds have to contend 

 against, no wonder they constantly diminish \ i 

 mies constantly increase. If every sportsman would do his 

 share toward protecting, restocking and fei i 

 killing vermin this might be remedies heap and 



Will not help the birds much. 



I have just returned from a shooting trip to Virginia and 

 quail are scarce there also. A bard i immense 



number of hawks are the Da l - : it daily we found 

 thehawks at work on a bevy of quail. W Holbbbton. 



PhOVidbkCE, R. I. — During my annual vacation for a short 

 time in Vermont, in October, I found ruffed grouse in-places 

 where tJjere were non< las . , . it squirrel 



question came up it b:i aav 



wore very plenty and the grouse very si .... year, bore 



grouse and less reds. SportemeU can draw thedro 

 elusions. On Monday, Octobel la raffed grouse 



that had iu its CrOp Lweuty-sev i (Querent 



rrapeS and one of the red partridge ber- 

 ries. W as not that rather a large meal ? All the bin 

 I found, if they were ii lied 



ably found in a tree at the end r first 1 ter wards. 



I think this a fashion with Vermont grouse, i join the Cidl 

 for a law to prevent the export of game.- J. H. 



Pbbudomyms— Sing Sing, N.V., Dee. 31, 1881. -Editor 

 Forest and .Vi tirpriaedm* thai so many 



of your correspondent's still persist in using a pseudonym 

 nom de plume, initials and the like, especially in mailers 

 relating to natural history'. A. ;>.i ay be tolerated 



in articles which are of no scientific value, but in natural 

 history, where all facts should be indorsed by their writer, it 

 is uufortunate that so many still adhere to the use of an 

 assumed name. Many notes which would he of great value 

 and interest, even to professional naturalists, have to be 

 i a aside as worthless, on account , ottOUB or 



pseudonymous character. The only reason thai, ) . 

 why they are ubi I eithei from modesty Or tear of ridicule 

 nn the part of the- author. lean only say thai 

 truth no one should be ashamed or fear ridicule, for the 

 simplest thought or original (Jbsorvation is aaadditio) 

 knowledge, and hence thankfully received. I was 

 see that, Dr. 0. Dart Merrlam, in a footnote to one Of Ills 

 articles, condemned their use.— A. K. Finnan, M. D. 



WaiunT ok Gkax Squtkbbls. — Henderson, N. T., Jan. 3. 

 — Editor Forest and Strain, : I noticed in your issue of Dec. 

 20 " Will," your \ I g afi a rreapi defit, aska for informa- 

 tion concerning the weight of gray squirrels. 1 shot one this 

 fall that weighed 88 ounces. It wasa conimon graysquirtej, 

 but extra large for this section. We often kill t'n 

 "Will" describes and call them a cross between the. black 

 and gray; they are generally quite large.— Gbay Squtkebx. 



%nn\& Jfag mid @#», 



NOTES FROM WORCESTER, MASS. 



Jan. 3, 1883. 



Editor Fute;,t and Stream: 



Durii. iti December the ground 



remained bare and Lhe weather exceedingly mild and 

 ing to the sportsmen 



all over the country, I ic id lamenting the scarcity 



of partridges, at the same time relentlessly pursuing the 

 few remaining ones, even up to the last, hour Of the last da3 r 

 iu which shootiug was legal, more partridges having been 

 killed in December than in any other two mouths of the 

 shooting season, and during the last few weeks a much 

 larger proportion of hen birds have been killed than 

 early part of the season. W e shall settle for this nonsense 

 next y< ar and it will hardly be becoming to li 

 partridge fly, ticks red ai irrel However, there are a 



few binds left,and it the '■ pest," whoever or whatever he be, 

 hem alone we shall hav 



The woodcock flight commenced about Sept. 20th and 

 continued much later than usird, a few _.i 

 kifled in this vicinity m December STot 80 large ba B 

 made ! = :.;.'.:■ m - ■. . cold 



and the birds come With a rush, but tbi 

 record of our Bhi 



are fully upto mai quail lived over 



last wintur, and during the summer seemed to benesting well, 

 but when the time for shooting arrived not many were to be. 

 found. A few good bags have been made, bi I 

 cannot be said to hav. been ] . Worcester cot 



iod quail ground anyway, and when w - 

 Iks- of quail Minuting we mil 

 Connecticut. 



The ' 

 ii, any Eo been kil 



list as 



The old. veteran, 

 Bgtb year and Id: 



i E-, 



self '" the foot, necessitating amputation at the instep, and 



1 to lie by about a year, but. "blood will tell," and 



lis foot was well enough to allow it he w^as at it 



again, w'uli all the old relish, aud can now put in a good 



day's wort: at either bird or foxhunting. De has proved 



himself " no slouch" this season, having alreadv killed 8, J. 



M. White and partner 1!) John A. Slocomb 18, W. B. Perry 



\lams 7, E. T. Baleom 3, Henry Locke 3, A. B. 



1, J. R. Thayer 1, E. D. Smith 1, L. Rand 2— a 



total of B5. 



at the bird shooting season is over it begins to be 

 ■ . _• club house on Friday afternoons. The team is 



now in practice for the match which is pending with the 

 Marlborough Club, and Which is to jome ifi On our grounds 

 on Jan. 18. The two clubs have already shot Ave matches, 

 three of which have been won by the Worcester (Hub. The 

 new rifle dub is in a flourishing condition and hold their 

 weekly shoots at the new range at Lovell's Grounds, where 

 they have recently erected a cozy club house. They number 

 about inirty members. K. 



A VIRGINIA PHEASANT HUNT. 



South Wkst, Virginia, Jan. 2. 



EL1FFED GROUSE" seems to have raised the "in- 

 jur " in some of your coi respondents iu his denun- 

 i 8 Of what, he calls ihe " murder" Of the king of game 

 birds ; aud some of the goodnatured fellows ate coming 

 back at Mm with a friendly vim. Now, this ought not to 

 be ; because a moment's reflection will demonstrate that 

 ''Ruffed Grouse" sees the inefficiency of game protection 

 laws, and wishes to iucidcate the practice of shooting 

 jlii asants (as we call them iu the South.) on the wing for 

 their protection ; aud if he succeeds they will be eff>. dually 

 protected. But suppose a person does not just want to have 

 his gun crack in a crazy manner all the time, but wants to 

 broil (or stew if he likes better, ; this delicious bird, how 

 then? I'm going to tell you, in confidence, how I proceeded 

 to hunt the other day, and if it should leak out, pray let 

 "Huffed Grouse" restrain his wrath. 



During the week of holidays, some beautiful days came 

 for bunting pheasants j and 1 conceived a happy thought to 

 excuse myself from my partner. Entering our office one 

 mi.rning, I said, "Henry, don't you think it a shame to have 

 an old father as near as I have, and not spend a day or two 

 during Christinas with him. I'll go anil see the old gentle- 

 man, ii 1 can be spared. 1 ' "Certainly, I'd go," said he." 

 Soon gun and traps were ready. Horse saddled, and my 

 little iron-works red setter whining, barking, tumbling and 

 springing around uiy horse's head. Into the saddle I go, and a 

 miles, through a muddy road, brought metothe 

 old gentleman's. "Hello, boy!" said he, "tell the truth, 

 did you come to see me or to hunt?" "Truth? well, 

 both." After dinner the old gentleman says-, "lip the 

 branch yonder, iti the hollows, in the laurel, mountain tea 

 and green briars, they say there is a gang of pheasauts, but, 

 've grown too old now to hunt and walk with you in 

 the rough. 1 will go up the path and get a tenant living near 

 the, grounds to show you." Up the path we go. A walk of 

 a quarter mile brought, us to the gap iu the ridge — aud down 

 to this gap along the ridge came a ravine, fenced on each 

 side high by inil sandstone cliffs— on which grows the rough, 

 barked birch, the fragrant and lithe hemlock and the dwarf 

 ivy. Down the ravine comes the mountain branch, gurgling 

 under Occasional windows, of ice, trickling over tiny falls; 

 p ied ferns touching the current and dancing to the 

 little riffles— all inclosed with frequent groups of rank laurel, 

 bay, you've seen all this kind; do you remember how your 

 bloi id shol through your veins ? How you could hardly sup- 

 press a yell ? 



I c-vnnot wait until my father sends my guide, but up the 



ravine 1 start. My headstrong little dog is brought to heel. 



No listless sneaking behind with him, but he takes an even 



chance by my side, half crouching, his feet hardly tipping 



the ground, tail straight, mouth half open, eyes only display- 



i ment. Say he don't know as well as I do what I 



i iked and at a position for quick 



work. Up the hollow we continue stealthily, when a stick 



snaps behind aud I turn to greet my evening's companion. 



I wait till he comes up, and as he reaches out his hand for a 



hearty shake, he hugs to his shoulder his squirrel rifle. The 



hammers of my gun are down. Just as we grasp hands, 



•i ii. ittsant like a streak of light- 



ni _. I vheel. Just one lock has time to c.dok. Bang! 



crack, round and round swings the bird and to 



mdit Domes. Rover don't understand whether it is 



down safe or not, so out of abundance of caution he runs up 



and puts his pawupon it. Now, under all the circumstances 



tiiis was a fair wing shot. 



After taking, iu due modesty, a shower of flattery from 



nion, off we go again. Three hundred yards 



tramp, dog still at heel. "Look yonder! see that pheasant 



sitting by that tiee, 1 ' says my man. There it was, sure 



enough, booking precisely like the leaves, tail tucked, neck 



hed My gun comes up, and belay " murdered" on 



the ground. We turn for home, aud aa we neared the old 



ii farm, my companion told me that a brood of 



pheasants had, in the last year, been raised in a thicket near 



by. A motion from my band and off the glib little dog goes 



See how cautious. He gallops up to a log, puts 



around. Maybe he'll be laughed 



: his eyes as well as his nose. Presently he gets 



of the thicket and proceeds, nol I 



go Where Ms experience (or reason, perhaps, ) has taught him 



to believe a pheasant is apt to be. We kneel upon the 



1 watch his movements by keeping under the 



boughs Of the brush. There he stands, his body half-curved. 



"WhaUa that dog Stopped that way for," said John. 



■' You'll see," was the reply, and down we creep, but before 



We get near, I ' wliirrl whirr.' whirr! 



1 in a tall birch sapling, another two hundred 



in a tall oik. among the still hanging dead leaves, 



two fly up the knolls on the branch. A Sharp, foxy bark 



troniKovi I iu the bush looks down at him. 



. any way he holds 



attention until I "mind- r" it. Now for the one 



i the brush and he 



lien." This 



nurdered," too. Off we go after the two on the 



Rover. 1 ' I caul ion him as 



p and seems to reason that 



l 



.i the wind, 



- tully, with 



he- (1 high. See now quick he turns his head to the left, 



:. stiff, with one foot up. "Too 



rpjw I will go to the 



opening at the branch, where you can drive him across as 

 you flush." He was accordingly flushed, and through the 

 brush just the wrong way he went, and he wasn't murdered 

 worth a cent. 



Now for our last bird. Its hiding place is approached, 

 and Rover gallops off to come back to us against the wind, 

 which he does in a careful pace. His hind feet fly off a slick 

 log, but. just in that position he stands pointing straight to- 

 ward me. I stoop, peep under the thick brush and see the 

 bird sitting on a fallen limb, two feet off the ground, right 

 between me and the staunch little dog. Who in thunder can 

 kill that bird on the wdng when you can't raise the gun to 

 your shoulder, much less turn it ? Should I flush it idly 

 and make my business canine believe I am joking with his 

 stands ? Not much. I crawled till I got out of range of the 

 setter statue and " murdered" this fellow. My excited com- 

 rade, the executioner of many a deer, turkey aud pheasant, 

 could contain himself no longer, and a hearty whoop rolled 

 from his broad lungs, breaking the dusky stillnesB of the 

 closing day ; and as I followed the reverberations up the 

 rugged steeps, I raised my hat to the forest wilds in rever- 

 ential thanks, and a whispered "good evening." 



So, to be honest, 1 kill those birds on the wing and con- 

 sider it a feat highly honorable iu myself ; I kill them 

 from the tree and consider the feat nighty honorable in my 

 dog : I kill them on the ground for fear I won't kill any at 

 all ; aud in neither of these ways do I ever have time enough 

 to kill more than myself and a genial friend or two can eat. 

 This is the honest truih— if it hangs me. It maybe untutored 

 sport ; but if it. be treason, make the most — I beg pardon. 

 Am I benighted ? Gbaeme, 



— ■ • — -», — * 



THE RIFLE OF THE FUTURE." 



Fall Bbook, Gal., Dec. 1881. 



IN the Foekst and Stream for Dec. 1, a correspondent 

 signing himself " Iron Ramrod," under the heading of 

 "Muzzle-Loader vs. Breech- Loader," asks the following 

 questions; "Is muzzle-loading with a round ball more ac- 

 curate in its shooting than breech-loading with a slug or 

 conical bullet? Or is it the fault of the factory-made cart- 

 ridges? If the fault is in the rifle, why is it more accurate 

 with round balls loaded from the muzzle ?" 



These questions are based upon experiment with a .32 

 cal. rifle, which, when loaded from the muzzle with round 

 ball aud patch, far excelled its best shooting with either rim 

 fire or central Are cartridges. I have myself tried the same 

 experiment with different rifles and always with the same 

 results, and the answer seems to me easy enough. 



During the many years that breech-loading rifles of the 

 best quality have been upon the market, and at low prices, 

 too, a large class of hunters have persisted in adhering to the 

 old muzzle-loader. It has been the custom among those who 

 deem themselves advanced, to denounce this class as fools or 

 old fogies, and lavish unqualified praise upon the breech- 

 loader. Unfortunately, however, for this theory of thtir 

 action, that class consists largely of men who have thor- 

 oughly tried the best breech-loaders, and men like Mnjor 

 Merrill, who know just exactly what they are talking about. 

 And it, is useless to deny that this class is ou the increase. I 

 know several who belong to it. And one of the most suc- 

 cessful and skillful hunters of my acquaintances this very 

 year laid aside the most popular of repeating rifles, bought 

 an old single-barreled muzzle-loader, and has killed more 

 deer with it than he has killed in any year before, and has 

 done it with one-fourth of the shots formerly required to get 

 the same number with the breech-loader. He says no one 

 can ever again talk breech-loader to him. 



Although myself a firm friend of speed of fire, I cannot 

 shut my eyes to the fact that in all the breech-loaders 1 have 

 ever tried — and I have tried many — this advantage is attained 

 at the expense of some accuracy. Those who have never 

 shot a muzzle-loader may talk of the breech-loader's accuracy. 

 But he who has never shot a muzzle-loader, knows not what 

 accuracy is. The man who has grown up with the breech- 

 loader is only a callow youth, who knows nothing of what a 

 rifle can do. 



For very long range the breech-loader may be ahead, be- 

 cause the extremely long ball necessary for a long flight can 

 not be loaded from the muzzle by the best system of patch- 

 ing. The patch will wrinkle too much if put on in the ordi- 

 nary way aud, if patched as for the long range breech-loader, 

 it cannot be fitted tightly enough to the grooves. But I 

 believe it impossible to make a breech-loader rhat at short 

 range will excel the muzzle-loader ; and 1 believe there is now 

 nothing that will equal it. You may talk about the "unerr- 

 ing" this or "never failing" that; the makers may baptize it 

 "Old Surepop" or "Old Centre Splitter," or whatever they 

 like, but there is no maker or any one else who dare match a 

 rifle loaded at the breech against one loaded from the muzzle 

 to be fired 100 times with dead rest and telescope sights at a 

 hole the diameter of the bullet at 50 yards distance. I admit 

 that some breech-loaders shoot splendidly: that they will 

 throw few wild balls, and those but slightly out of the way ; 

 but for every time one will hit a silver dollar at 50 yards the 

 muzzle-loader will hit a silver dime by its side; for every one 

 that will cut in to the edge of thesame bullet hole you ma 

 a muzzle-loader that will shoot into the hole without cutting 

 its edge at all. 



By muzzle-loader I here mean a rifle loaded from the muz- 

 zle with grease patch in the old style, with the bullet left m 



>v thu bottom. It maybe an old-fashioned 



muzzle-loader or a modern breech-loader. There will be no 

 difference in the results, provided, of course, that 'lie breech- 

 is well made and is not choked at the muzzle — as many 

 very needlessly are made. It must also be bevelled a little at 

 the muzzle, so as not to cut the patch. 



The difference between the two modes of loading might 

 almost be predicted without experiment. In loading from 

 the muzzle the ball is swedged gently to its place in the bar- 

 rel ; all parts of the. bullet yield about alike ; the patch pre- 

 vents any scraping off of the lead or cutting by the edges of 

 the grooves. It is pushed gently to its place at the bottom, 

 and— mark now an important point — it is left in the exact 

 '. it in tn start. It goes out exactly as it w&ni 

 iu, Without a bruise, jam or smash upon any -ide, and, being 

 patched, without any leading of the barrel. 



When loaded from the breech the ball lies below the place 

 where it is to be fully aud firmly adjusted to the grooves. 

 Instead of being pushed gently into that place it is dashed 

 into it with tremendous force, and itiathj an in- 



termediate space in which it rarely if ever fits 1 1 

 to prevent a slight wabble; even in case the ball should leave 

 the cartridge on a line true with the axis of the 



Several results may follow. The ball may be unduly 

 low of the powdet 

 dead wMght. The pa'/ 



