130 



RECREATION. 



question. I could not believe that so small 

 a bullet could have immediate killing pow- 

 er. Finally, I ordered a box magazine 

 Winchester, carrying the new army cart- 

 ridge, with soft nosed bullet. The argu- 

 ment of the first shot with it was a knock 

 down one. It knocked down the deer in the 

 most approved fashion. Subsequent trials 

 have fully confirmed the first impression. 

 Now, I would not exchange it for a dozen 

 of any other make or cartridge. The 30-40- 

 220 cartridge is equal to any emergency. 

 Its action is the simplest and surest I have 

 yet tried. 



Box Magazine, Dover, Me. 



ANOTHER REMARKABLE SHOT. 



Cheyenne, Wyo. 



Editor Recreation: Reading of Gov- 

 ernor Richards' " Remarkable Shot," re- 

 minds me of one I made about 15 years 

 ago, in Colorado. Some years ago I told 

 about taking a shot at a wild goose, in her 

 nest in the top of a cottonwood tree, on 

 the Big Horn river, to a party of friends, 

 one of whom is an authority on birds. He 

 said that goose must have been trying to 

 keep up her reputation for being " as silly 

 as a goose " ; that she had stolen an owl's 

 nest, etc. I never got to finish the story, 

 but told the fellows if they would learn of 

 the peculiar habits of the goose they must 

 get out in the country and see for them- 

 selves. Since that I have been careful 

 about the crowd when telling of remark- 

 able happenings. 



But about the shot. I had located on a 

 cow ranch, on the plains Northeast of Den- 

 ver, and had written home, to Pennsyl- 

 vania, of the great antelope hunting to be 

 had there. My brother, then a boy, paid 

 me a visit, and the next day after his ar- 

 rival said I must show him how I could 

 shoot. So, in the morning we saddled up 

 and rode, in a walk, for his sake, about a 

 mile, when we sighted a buck antelope. 

 He was out on a flat, about Y\ of a mile 

 away. He saw us first and trotted off. He 

 ran about half way to the top of a knoll 

 and stopped, about 600 or 800 yards away. 

 I knew the next time he would stop 

 would be on another knoll perhaps a mile 

 away, and that if I was going to shoot I 

 must shoot at once. I put up the sights to 

 what I judged would be the right elevation 

 and blazed away. I took down the rifle 

 and looked for the bullet to strike. My 

 brother said, 



' You missed him," and I saw a cloud 

 of dust rise about 30 feet this side of the 

 antelope. At the same instant the antelope 

 dropped, and lay without a struggle. 



I thought the bullet had ricocheted from 

 the ground and had hit him in the head. 



We went up and examined the carcass 

 but could not find any mark of a bullet. 



Thinking it would show up when we 

 skinned him we took him home, head, legs 

 and all. There we stripped him, from 

 hoofs to horns, but not a bullet hole could 

 we find. Nor was there one, either in car- 

 cass or hide. ' 



That was a most remarkable shot. I 

 missed the antelope, entirely, but killed 

 him all the same. How did it happen? 



I may add that the most remarkable 

 thing about this story is it is strictly true. 



J. Frank Warner. 



The antelope probably saw the bullet 

 coming; caught it in his mouth, swallowed 

 it and died of appendicitis. — Editor. 



SHALL WE KILL GAME FOR OUR FRIENDS? 



Cincinnati, O. 



My dear Coquina: I send you by ex- 

 press, for your collection of curios, what I 

 believe to be the largest and heaviest rifle 

 in this country — possibly as large a one as 

 was ever made for sporting purposes. It 

 was made for the Prince of Wales, when 

 he came here, and he used it for hunting 

 buffalo, in the Southwest. He gave it to 

 his guide, Cass Adams, who had been de- 

 tailed for that purpose by the Secretary of 

 War. Adams subsequently sold the rifle 

 to Kit Carson, who owned it until his 

 death. You may handle it with impunity, 

 and without fear or danger; though I 

 frankly confess that while reading Rec- 

 reation, last night, and the beautiful 

 roasting you give me, in it, I felt much in- 

 clined to set my inventive wheels going 

 and to attach some mechanical device to 

 the gun whereby it would go off, with an 

 awful roar, just about the time it reached 

 you; thereby causing those few remaining 

 hairs on your much abused scalp to stand 

 on end even straighter than on the well 

 remembered occasion when you fell over 

 the sleeping grizzly. 



What's that? you're not bald headed? 

 Come off old man! 'Fess up! I am; and 

 let's see, it's — gee! it's almost 2 decades 

 since we used to throw bouquets at each 

 other, through one of your contempora- 

 ries; you from the icy peaks and frozen 

 fields of the farthest North, and I as " M. 

 I. Grant " from the sunny slopes and alkali 

 plains of Mexico. We may have been en- 

 vious of each other, but we were supremely 

 happy in youth and good health. 



Do you know that when memory carries 

 me back to those halcyon days, bringing 

 with them fond recollections of our mutual 

 friends, all the anger and soreness, because 

 of your undeserved lambasting, leaves me; 

 and I feel more like ordering up 'nother 

 cold one, as in those good old days which 

 can never come again, than like replying to 

 you. Through the clouds of smoke that 

 are pleasuring me and filling my bachelor 

 quarters I can again see your familiar face, 



