xl vi 

GRIZZLY PETE “PROTESTS: 
Mr. Forker Man: 
I was visiting my neighbor, Sleek, the 
other day and he showed me a picture ofa 
Rino Pig—hung up by its hinders over a 
hot old fire. He said: “zt was me, Grizzly 
Pete, and if I didn’t want to get burned 
and sizzled, I’d have to quit my hogging, 
and co (tol) living. Wecenty 47> Hievisaide 
“There was a new-fangled hunter just 
lately growed up, that had no use for 
such hunters as I be.” 
I told him: I was of the old stock, 
that came there first, and when there 
was a whole lot more game than there 
is now; when I could stand in the door 
and pop over a fat doe and have the old 
woman hist its jinders home _ on her 
back and I didn’t thank the old duffer in 
the East to skin me alive, and then roast 
me. I says: “I ain’t the only old sheep- 
eater on this range of mountains.” 
“Does that old forker man that’s sizzlin’ 
them porkers want me to jine them left- 
arm sportsmen clubs, them fellers that 
prays by his old REcREATION Bible every 
day? They ain’t close to a covey of quail, 
a pot shot at mallards, or a bunch of 
deer or elk, and when they are I do 
l.kewise my:eli? I tell you what, these 
elk and deer ain’t goin’ to last and old 
Grizzly -Pete’s goin’ to get his share, if 
the old 45-70 holds out and the long 
range dudes don’t get too blamed thick.” 
He says: “Yes; but, what’s your. kids 
going to do? They won’t get a smell 
at big game when they grew up if you 
and your kind kill them all off. Now, you 
have had your share. Why don’t you 
leave a few for future prosperity?” or 
somethin’ like that. And then he said 
to me, on the quiet, see: “Jine the L. A. 
S., git rejuvenated, or dedicated and 
learn by rules in addition and subtraction 
the limit to kill per day;” and he says, 
“All you can count now is by the multi- 
plication table,’ and then he insulted me 
further by sayin’, “that he didn’t think 
God Almighty had any room for such 
hunters as I be, and that as soon as I 
was roasted brown I should be fed to the 
other porkers. Them kind, I guess, that 
ain’t quite killed yet.” 
Course I was hot and went home and 
says to the old woman: “That old duffer, 
Sleek, thinks he’s devilish smart, since 
he’s got rejuvenated and dedicated as he 
calls it, and the next time I cotch him 
trappin’ beaver, I’ll tell the old Forker, 
that’s editor of a new Bible book in New 
York, and I’ll get him sizzled. Just let 
me catch him dynamitin’ trout. Oh. no! 
Guess I won’t count the spots and send 
them in,’ and I said some more. 
And that old woman of mine, in her 
cheery, good-natured way says, says she: 
“Pete, you jus got to find a new way, 
that’s all. You must quit or you’re a 
RECREATION. 

goner. That new-fangled sportsman is 
like the tariff, it’s come to stay. Your 
days are over. Just as well give up your 
old 45-70, and your dynamite fuse, or 
quit talkin’. If you hadn’t got to tell- 
in’ all you knew, and a blame sight 
more, you wouldn’t a got such a roastin’. 
It serves you right.” 
Knowin’ the old woman’s set ways, 
I kept on sayin’ nothin’. But I got 
somethin’ now to say, cause I ain’t con- 
victed. Grizzley Pete. 
Of the Buffalo river. 
P. S.: Say, what is this new-fangled 
sportsmen organization, and if I be pret- 
ty good, do. you suppose I could jine 
em! 

“WATER SQUIRREL” SHOGDIENG# 
ON THE HACKENSACK MEAD- 
OWS. 
Probably you will ask what 
squirrels are. 
They are a most cleanly animal which 
is sorely misrepresented by the “nom de 
plume” of muskrat, which they do not 
deserve, for they are edible and as. 
clean fed as a rabbit, always washing 
their meadow roots before they nibble 
them. 
The other night Mr. B., for short we 
water. 
call him “Kits,” and I started out for 2 
hours’ sport with them. We _ waded 
through mud and water to a place called 
“Horseshoe Bend,’ and then stationed 
ourselves about 75 yards apart. I had no 
sooner got comfortably fixed when bang 
went “Kits” gun and the next thing I 
heard was: “Jay, fetch me the pole.” I. 
hurried over as fast as J could and handed 
it to him; he then waded out in the 
water trying to reach the squirrel. The’ 
tide was running out swiftly and when he 
reached out to draw the squirrel in the 
pole did not come within a foot of him, 
and Mr. Squirrel was drifting away, 
Kit reached out again but did not come 
within a yard of him this time. Then he 
said, “I’ll have you any way,” and in the 
icewater he went till it was running over 
his boot tops, getting his feet and over- 
coat soaking wet. 
We shot 2 more, 
fin sas black “as: tcoat: : 
In this peculiar ‘‘still hunt” the capture 
of the animals is only an incentive that 
lures one to some remote spot of na- 
ture’s, where she charms you with a beau- 
tiful unobstructed zenith, and sings to 
you with the gentle gratings of floating 
broken ice and the soft, sweet murmur of 
the rustling meadow reeds. 
Jason Cameron, Rutherford, N. J. 
one of which had 


