2l6 



RECREA TION. 



he sat watching me, like a great dog. I 

 could have shot him in the breast or neck, 

 for the distance was only 31 paces, I found 

 later, but I dared not risk the shot. I 

 wanted to kill him instantly, for if wound- 

 ed, even so he could go but 6 feet, he would 

 roll and slide hundreds of feet down into 

 the canyon. 



When the bear was discovered I was car- 

 rying my gun in both hands, waist high 

 and cocked, but for several seconds I did 

 not move a muscle, realizing that getting 

 a good shot depended on making no hasty 

 movement. Two feet in front of me and 

 on a line with my left side and the bear, 

 was a tree. If I could get my gun against 

 this for a rest, without alarming the bear, 

 I had him sure. Slowly the rifle was raised 

 to my shoulder and to thetree. It seemed 

 an age before it was in position. The bear 

 looked steadily, but seemed unable to make 

 out what I was. My nerves were strung to 

 their highest tension, and I felt sure of put- 

 ting the bullet exactly where I wanted it. 

 Taking deliberate aim, just over the right 

 eye, I pressed the trigger. At the crack of 

 the 45-75 Winchester, the bear wilted in his 

 tracks, scarcely moving afterward. 



Going up near where he lay, I looked at 

 the great mass, realized it was all over and 

 that I had killed my first bear. Then my 

 nerves relaxed and I shook as badly as 

 when I killed my first deer, in Wisconsin, 

 more than 20 years before. 



The bear had a magnificent hide, and 

 was fat, considering the season. I will not 

 venture to estimate his weight, but he was 

 by no means a common grizzly. I have 

 killed many since, but none so large as 

 this. 



A TRIP ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 



There is no place where one can find 

 more varied sport than on the great Father 

 of Waters. The time to leave, for a trip 

 on this great stream, varies with the sea- 

 son. As soon as the ice passes out is a 

 good time to start, and you will meet geese 

 and ducks, by the thousands, on their way 

 North. 



Don't fail to take with you a good sup- 

 ply of decoys and calls. Both geese and 

 ducks have a tantalizing way of swimming 

 just out of gun range, from the shores, and 

 when you start to them, in boats, they wait 

 until you are almost in range and then fly. 

 As to a boat, take some small craft, all on 

 lower deck and propelled by steam, with 

 a good supply of regular river skiffs. 

 When properly made the river skiff is 

 broad, and steady, and can be run out over 

 the thousands of acres of swamp lands, 

 along the river, where the geese and ducks 

 collect in immense numbers, to feed, and 

 where the mud is so deep it is impossible 

 to wade, even with the tallest boots. 



On February 15, 1897, a party of us left 

 St. Louis, for a trip through all the hunt- 

 ing region as far South as Helena, Ark., 

 and while we had much rare sport we lost 

 a lot of valuable time by not having the 

 right kind of a boat. 



If you want some grand shooting, next 

 season, start at St. Louis or Cairo, 111., and 

 go down the Mississippi. Watch the flight 

 of ducks and geese, and when you see 

 many flocks flying over the timber, in one 

 direction, you may rest assured it is not 

 far to some lake, where you will find all the 

 sport you wish. There are hardly 5 miles in 

 any one stretch, but on one side or the 

 other, a short distance back, is a pond or 

 lake where the birds gather by thousands 

 to feed. 



But before you start on this journey test 

 your boat, and its motive power, thorough- 

 ly. Be sure it works perfectly and that it 

 is reliable under all conditions; for there 

 is nothing more exasperating than to have 

 your engine give out, when you are 10 miles 

 from even a blacksmith shop. , 



H. C. Mead. 



TEXAS DOVE SHOOTING. 



Quanah, Tex. 



Editor Recreation: A friend and I 

 drove out about a mile from town one even- 

 ing, to a field grown up with sunflowers, 

 for a little dove shooting, and before we 

 got through the wire fence, the doves be- 

 gan to flush. On the first rise I killed one 

 bird, not shooting my second barrel, while 

 my companion killed one. 



As we walked on, 2 to 10 doves would 

 flush at every 20 or 30 steps, and the shoot- 

 ing was lively, of course. This was kept 

 up until both ran out of shells. Ed., my 

 friend, had started with 30, I with 25. When 

 we got back to the buggy and counted our 

 birds, it was found that Ed. had 13 birds, 

 while I had killed 11. 



After resting a few minutes we started 

 again, my companion with 30 shells, I with 

 25. This time we each managed to bring 

 down 2 doubles, though frequently we had 

 to use the 2d barrel on the first bird. 

 Sometimes, too, a dove would escape both 

 barrels. 



It took only about 30 or 40 minutes to 

 run the birds all out of the field. On again 

 returning to the buggy and counting up, 

 Ed. had 16 killed for 26 shots, and I 13 to 

 show for 23 empty shells. This gave us 

 a total of 53 doves for 104 shots. 



We are members of the Quanah Gun 

 Club, and on telling some of the other 

 members of our fine sport, one of them 

 asked what our score was. On learning our 

 average, he said he could beat that — could 

 average 70 per cent. During the argu- 

 ment that followed, I told him we would 

 shoot together, and he could have my birds, 



