
FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 41 
shot guns and buckshot as ordnance sup- 
plies. We took along a tent and camp-stove, 
with duffle enough for corps head-quarters 
in an army. 
Vanderbilt, 127 miles North of Bay City, 
was the point selected, but finding a great 
many hunters on the train going to that 
point we decided to go to Rondo, which we 
reached for early breakfast. That dis- 
patched we arranged with a Mr. Merrit to 
drive us to a good hunting ground about 6 
miles out of town. This we reached for 
dinner, made camp and got ready for next 
day’s hunt. 
Bright and early we were out in the 
woods, and all day we sought—but no deer. 
Next day one of the boys ran a bear up a 
tree, and 2 of them emptied their shot guns 
into it. When it fell it was found to be a 
hedgehog. No deer. 
Next day we concluded to drive the game. 
Part of the force was stationed on the run- 
ways, the others acting as drivers. One 
deer came within 6 or 7 rods of one of the 
boys, who pumped all the cartridges in reach 
at it, and wounded it, but it got away. 
For the remainder of our time we hunted 
birds, and then returned to our home. Re- 
sult lots of wisdom, part of which will pre- 
vent us, in future, from hunting deer with 
shot guns. 
D. F. Walters, Jackson, Mich. 

WOODCHUCK. 
Learning that a party in this vicinity 
owned a .40-82, I became the owner at once, 
by trading an old muzzle loader, and pay- 
ing the difference in cash. Being impatient 
ton try 1t,, | started out, on my rail road 
velocipede, with my office boy as “ mascot,” 
to execute some woodchucks, which are 
quite plentiful along the railroad tracks. 
We had ridden about one mile, when my 
mascot cried out “ stopper,’ which I did 
by applying the air so suddenly that we both 
went rolling in the ditch. 
I proceeded to investigate the cause of 
his alarm, and in great excitement he 
pointed out a head, which had just risen 
from the grass, 40 rods away, across the 
meadow. I knelt down beside the barbed 
wire fence, took careful aim, and fired at 
the woodchuck. Result—a streak of some- 
thing, which the kid pronounced a rabbit; 
but in fact we could not tell what it was. 
We watched it climb the hill 125 rods away 
and stop. All we could see was a small 
bunch. I said, ‘““now here goes for the 
reputation of the .40-82;” and elevating the 
sight, I let ’er go. Result—my mascot 
dancing a jig, and yelling, ‘you got ‘im.’ 
. All I could see, when the smoke cleare1, was 
occasionally a white stomach, turning sum- 
mersaults. 
We crossed the meadow, climbed the hill, 
and found a Thomas cat, lying dead, with 
a hole through the back of his head. 
That gun could not be bought for $100, 
but subsequent trials lessened its value. In 
fact, I lost all confidence in it, never being 
able, after that experience to hit anything 
smaller than a barn, so I sold it for $5. 
I am ready to experiment with a small 
bore. 
J. D. Joslin, Newark Valley, N. Y. 

IN THE FAR NORTH. 
Last year with a party of prospectors 
and adventurers I visited the Caribou and 
Peace river country, British Columbia, 
about 800 miles Southeast of Dawson. 
While out our party shot a number of deer 
and bear. My partner and I, while sepa- 
rated from the rest of the party, had a lively 
time one day with a big black bear on the 
Nation river near the-head of Davis lake. 
While descending the stream we heard the 
bear in the bushes lining the steep bank 
as he endeavored to climb to escape us. 
By the time we had our .30-30’s ready for 
action our boat was within 75 feet of the 
bear. I fired the first shot, kneeling on the 
bottom of the boat and missed. Partner 
missed also, but our next 2 shots both hit 
the bear and he took to the water ahead of 
us. J again fired, hitting the bear over the 
eye. He immediately sank. We used our 
boat hooks to drag him along the bottom 
of the river to the shore. We found that 
our first hit had struck above the shoulder 
and gone through the center of the heart 
and the bullet hung in the skin and hair on 
the opposite side. The second shot plowed 
through the neck. In this condition the 
bear swam, more than 50 feet, until stopped 
by the bullet above the eye. 
While on this trip we heard of an Indian 
who had been attacked by a grizzly and had 
escaped by feigning death. Upon his 
reaching camp his party took the trail of 
the bear which was finally found and killed. 
W. B. Keighley, Vineland, N. J. 

WOLF CHASING IN MINNESOTA. 
Wolves were quite numerous in the 
vicinity of Warren, last season. There was 
a scarcity of rabbits in the timber, and the 
wolves come out on the prairie, in quest of 
food, giving the hunters a chance to see 
them. 
The hunter has the best success with a 
good running team. Two in a strong pair 
01 bobs can soon overtake him in the soft 
snow, and finish him with a charge of shot. 
One man killed 5 wolves in December 
with a shot gun; another man killed 6 with 
a rifle; and another with a grey hound, 
captured quite a number; he used a rifle. 
He also shot 4 foxes. 
We had true sportsmen from Philadel- 
phi2, last fall. They came to’ try the brac- 
ing air of Minneapolis. They were George 
and Charles - I refrain from giving 


