XXIV 



RECREATION. 



DEAD, YET ALIVE. 



Bluffton, Ohio. 

 Editor Recreation : 



It was a frosty morning. The leaves had 

 been drenched with rain the day before and 

 the chill of the night had frozen them stiff 

 so that one could hear scarcely anything 

 but his own footfalls. 



My fingers had become so numb that 

 I thought it prudent to build a little fire and 

 warm them. I had scarcely determined to 

 do this when I found myself between 2 

 large pines which crossed each other at 

 right angles. A small birch stood just in 

 the vertex of the angle formed by the pines 

 and I concluded to build my fire on one of 

 the logs, using for fuel the birch bark. 



I was rubbing my hands in the flame and 

 enjoying its warmth when I heard, as I 

 thought, a red squirrel jumping along in 

 the leaves. Instead, however, came a great 

 buck walking leisurely out of a swamp and 

 coming almost toward me. Catching up my 

 gun I trained it on the approaching deer. 



He was not over 50 paces from me and I 

 was following every step with my finger 

 against the trigger, waiting for an open 

 space, which he must soon enter.. "Ba-a-a." 

 He stopped, but had gone a step too far. 

 His head and shoulders were behind a large 

 spruce, but thinking I might uncouple him 

 I fired at his back bone. When the smoke 

 cleared away he was rearing and striking 

 wildly with his forelegs. Leaping over the 

 log in my front and reloading as I ran I 

 reached him just as he plunged forward on 

 his side with his head toward me. 

 - As he lay blinking I thought him quite 

 safe, and congratulated myself on having 

 secured so fine a specimen. I was stand- 

 ing within 10 feet of him, my gun resting 

 carelessly in my left arm, looking about for 

 the doe which in my ignorance I thought 

 probably near and waiting to be shot, when 

 my dying buck gave a lunge and was on his 

 feet presenting a full broadside at which I 

 pointed my gun and pulled the trigger. 

 "Click" went the lock, and away went the 

 deer. The long firing pin had rusted slight- 

 ly in its place and broke the force of the 

 hammer. Before I could recock and catch 

 aim the deer had placed a good many trees 

 between us, consequently I missed him. 



To establish completely a genuine case of 

 greenhorn less I only need add that I fol- 

 lowed the trail immediately and hotly. The 

 deer was bleeding on both sides and was 

 easily followed a short distance, but after 

 the first id\". mile the blood stains grew 

 smaller ana farther apart as the crooked 

 trail led on. Reaching a small brook I 

 could see where he stopped to drink, but as 

 he had then stopped bleeding I lost his 

 trail. 



As I went home that evening, my feath- 

 ers very flat, I felt better every time T 

 kicked myself for not finishing my job 

 while I could. Experience is a dear school.. 



H. E. Altman. 



WHERE QUAILS DO NOT FLY. 



Verily my lines have fallen in pleasant 

 places. My wife, child and I began our 

 journey by being upset from a sleigh into a 

 foot of snow ; we ended in white duck and 

 perspiration. 



Already have I had a round at the game 

 and cactus, not to mention being a specta- 

 tor at a bull fight. The day I arrived the 

 Lieutenant in command and the surgeon 

 whom I relieve suggested a quail hunt in 

 order to initiate me into the cactus. The 

 next afternoon we drove out about 5 miles 

 to the Southeast. The Lieutenant had a 

 pump, 12 gauge; the Doctor a 10 gauge; 

 while I took the steward's 12 bore gun. 



It was the most peculiar quail hunt in 

 which I ever participated. Who would 

 think it would be any sport to shoot quails 

 on the ground? That is what we did. The 

 birds seldom take to wing but scurry 

 along about 150 feet ahead of the hunter, 

 dodging from one clump of mesquite or 

 cactus to another with lightning swiftness,. 

 It is during this quick exposure that the 

 shot has to be made. We sighted one covey 

 before we reached the point decided on. 

 All piled out and went racing along with 

 one eye on the ground to avoid cactus the 

 other ahead to catch sight of the fleeing 

 quails. I got one shot and missed, as did 

 the others. I went plunk into a cactus the 

 first dash, and in stopping an instant to 

 pick out a few thorns was left behind. 

 After catching up again we circled around 

 several times together but got only shots 

 at an occasional cottontail. Then we sep- 

 arated and when we returned to the buck- 

 board we had 2 or 3 rabbits and one bird. 



We then went on to the place chosen, and 

 agreed to hunt one hour only and quit. 

 Hardly had we gone 100 yards when my 

 companions commenced a regular fusillade. 

 I saw several birds take wing and I knew 

 I then had a chance to kill a few. I had 

 not yet cauarht the knack of ground shoot- 

 ing. The Doctor flushed one and as it 

 went circling around me I fired and it 

 dropped like a stone. I then got another 

 rabbit and then another. We separated arfd 

 remained apart until ready to return. I 

 missed time and again on running shots. 

 Finally I found a covey that acted as civil- 

 ized quails should; they took wing occa- 

 sionally. I staid with them as long as I 

 could, scarcely missing a shot on the wing. 

 When we returned to the wagon we had 

 over 20 birds and about a dozen bunnies. I 

 was middle man on the count. 



There are many quails, deer and rabbits 

 here, but little hunting is done. I have seen 

 dozens of antlers hanging around on back 

 yard fences, so I judge a good many deer 

 are killed here. 



G. S. Cable, Actg. Asst. Surg., U. S. A., 

 Laredo, Tex. 



IN ANSWERING ADS 

 MENTION RECREATION. 



PLEASE 



