Volume III. 



RECREATION. 



NOVEMBER, 1895. 



G. O. SHIELDS (COQUINA), Editor and Manager. 



Number 5. 



The American News Co., Agents for the U. S. and Canada. The International Newu ( \, < „,„, .1 

 Agents for Europe. Offices: Beams Buildings, Chancery Lane, London. I C 1 

 land; btephanstrasse 18, Leipzig, Germany. 



PHEASANT SHOOTING. 



Thomas G. Farrell. 



/' IFTEEN years ago, as nearly 

 every sportsman is aware, a 

 good citizen of Oregon im- 

 ported from China a num- 

 ber of the beautiful ring- 

 necked pheasants of that 

 land, and liberated them in 

 several counties of this 

 State. Wise legislation and thought- 

 ful sportsmen protected the birds, and 

 now they are plentiful. Throughout 

 the Willamette valley and in the 

 shadow of those mighty volcanic 

 peaks of the Cascades, most excel- 

 lent pheasant shooting is to be had. 



One day William came to me and 

 said : 



" What do you say to a trip up to 

 Broadmeads to-morrow ? That last 

 rain must have laid the dust, and a 

 dog ought to be able to find some 

 birds." 



I replied that nothing would give 

 me greater pleasure, and that I would 

 not fail him. My old gun was then 

 taken from its resting-place, where it 

 had been since the last duck-shoot, 

 of the previous fall, and shells were 

 loaded. For ammunition, I used 

 Schultze and E. C. powder mixed, 

 loaded in smokeless cases, as I find 

 such a load will produce very desira- 

 ble results if the weapon is held cor- 

 rectly. Having no dog suitable for 

 pheasant shooting, I borrowed " Pad- 

 dy," an Irish setter, from a friend. 



The weather was almost unbeara- 

 bly warm, yet Tuesday afternoon 

 found me making a hurried march to 

 the station. William was on hand, 

 and we soon had the dog and guns 

 stowed away in the baggage car. 



Pulling out of Portland proper, we 



were shortly flying through the sub- 

 urbs and crawling around the dan- 

 gerous-looking bluff's at Palatine Hill 

 and Elk Rock. Far below us the 

 cold green-looking depths of the 

 placid Willamette shimmered in the 

 summer sun. 



Rushing past Oswego with its great 

 iron-works, and Sucher Lake with its 

 yellow rafts of cordwood, we entered 

 a stretch of burning woods. Again, 

 we were rolling past well-tilled 

 farms and onion ranches, thousands 

 of acres of hop-yards and vegetable 

 gardens, and then the train slowly 

 crossed the trestle which spans the 

 Tualatin river. 



It was dark when we slowed up at 

 Broadmead station, and we set out 

 for the house at a brisk pace. Broad- 

 meads farm consists of more than 

 3,000 acres of fine, tillable land, and 

 is one of the best cultivated tracts 

 in the State. But little shooting is 

 allowed there, and birds are quite 

 plentiful. We soon reached the 

 farmhouse, where I was surprised at 

 the great barns and the number! 

 farm employees. It was m the midst 

 of the threshing season. The mana- 

 ger, Mr. McEldowney, informed 

 that his crew of 2\ nun had been 

 working i; days and the work was 

 yet unfinished. 



Early the next morning we started 

 for the holds. Following a lan< 

 short distance we crossed a small 01 

 chard and descended into the bottom 

 lands of the Yamhill river, wl 

 wheat and oat fields stretch awa\ 

 miles. "Paddy" ranged wild, and 

 was inclined to notice the meadow 

 larks, but we let him have his way, 



20"? 



