FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



135 



and pulled down stream; finally landing 

 and engaging board at a farm-house. 



Now we were ready for the ducks. We 

 could go in any direction, for the river 

 was out of its banks and all over the coun- 

 try. Crossing to the South side, I left S 



and K among the trees, while I rowed 



around to stir up the ducks. The men in 

 the timber blew their calls until the woods 

 echoed with their duck music, but the ducks 

 could not be induced to come within gun- 

 shot. We did not give up until approach- 

 ing darkness drove us to the house. 



In the morning we rowed up a creek 

 2 miles. The rain soon came and drove 

 us to shelter. No ducks yet — rather dis- 

 couraging, we thought. We stayed around 

 the fire, at the farm-house, until about 4 



o'clock, when S started out alone. He 



saw some mallards go down in a cornfield 

 and thought he could make a sneak on 

 them. He did succeed in killing a duck — 

 canvas-back, he called it — and came in 

 elated. 



During the afternoon a member of the 

 Griggsville Gun Club came to the house. 

 On examining the duck, he said it had 



been wounded before S killed it, and 



was sick and not much of a duck anyway. 



We did not tell S of this, for fear he 



would be discouraged. 



That evening we all went out but failed 

 to get any game. The next day, our suc- 

 cess being no better, we returned to town. 

 W. H. Whitney, Chatham, 111. 



AN UNWELCOME STORM. 



Glenwood Springs, Col. 



Editor Recreation: Bill and I had 

 walked our soles thin in trying to get a 

 shot at some elk we had seen, up in the 

 mountains. Leaves and twigs were so dry 

 game could hear us a mile away, in spite 

 of our " noiseless, non-slipping, guaran- 

 teed waterproof " shoes. 



After a pow-wow, we went to camp to 

 await snow, which seemed about due. It 

 came, and it was of the wet kind. We had 

 a small tent, with a poor excuse for a cen- 

 tre pole. At 2 o'clock in the morning we 

 were called on to awaken. 



The pole had broken, and there we were. 

 Dark as pitch, and snowing as it can snow 

 only high in the mountains. After a con- 

 sultation, we decided to take things coolly. 

 This worked all right at first, but about 5 

 o'clock, the warmth from our bodies began 

 to melt the snow. The water came inside, 

 in rivulets, until it would have been a credit 

 to anybody to be jolly under such condi- 

 tions. 



Another pole must be cut. After scrap- 

 ping for half an hour, to see which should 

 have the honor of going for it, Bill was 

 victorious. When he came back with the 

 pole, it was about 3 feet too long. I 



thought it would be a good plan to stand up 

 under the tent, letting it rest on my head, 

 while he was chopping off the pole. 



In pulling the tent around, to get the 

 centre over my head, I found a slit 15 

 inches long, made by the pole in breaking. 

 My head slipped through this before I 

 knew what had come over me; but I felt 

 sure half a ton of the beautiful went down 

 my back. 



Like 2 jays, we had pitched the tent un- 

 der a balsam, for the shade, not thinking 

 of the snow that might come. While I was 

 shouting to Bill to hurry with the pole, he 

 knocked all the snow off the tree, from the 

 ground up. I was right where I got the 

 only snap I ever had in my life. 



I did not have a camera and a flash-light, 

 but I would give a good price for a picture 

 of Bill in his " nighty," out in the snow, 

 cutting a pole just the right length; and 

 the other fellow taking a snow-bath at 5 

 a.m. on the 22d of October. However, 

 we killed an elk. All's well that ends well. 



J. E. M. 



WHERE DID HE STAY THAT NIGHT? 



Editor Recreation: Last September our 

 party of 4 left this place for a 2-weeks' deer 

 hunt in the Adirondacks. While there, we 

 had a peculiar experience. If any reader 

 of Recreation has had a similar one, I 

 should like to hear from him. 



We camped at our old grounds of several 

 years before, on Twitchell creek, Herkimer 

 county. In '95 I shot 2 deer within ^2 

 mile of this camp; but last fall game was 

 not so plentiful. 



While 2 of our hunters were returning 

 to camp one evening they fell in with a 

 guide. As they were all walking on a skid- 

 way, about 5 rods apart, a deer bounded 

 across their path. The guide gave it 2 

 shots; the next hunter fired 5; while 2 

 more were given it by the 3d man. At the 

 last shot the deer dropped, or at least dis- 

 appeared. 



On going to the spot where it was sup- 

 posed to be, nothing was found. Tracks 

 led to that spot, but no farther. The hunters 

 circled for a quarter of a mile around, but 

 not a sign of a deer. About 20 rods from 

 the mysterious spot, at a point where the 

 skid-ways joined, the hunters stood and 

 talked the matter over. 



The peculiar part of the story is that 

 on the following morning, at the very 

 spot where the consultation was held, the 

 deer was found dead. Five bullets had hit 

 it; 2 of them, ordinarily, would have 

 dropped a deer at once. 



Now, where was that deer when we were 

 looking for it? Schenevus. 



As water is the standard in specific grav- 

 ity, Recreation is the standard of sports-> 



