264 
A stop, a hurried change and on board 
the Charles D., a smaller steamer, we are 
slowly pushing our way along.- 
Log after log is slowly buffetted to 
either side. We enter the locks, the water 
rushes in and as we are again on the level 
we glide along the river. 
“We lunched and lunched and our tick- 
ets were punched and punched.” 
After passing into Willet lake, the para- 
dise of the fisherman, we stop at Top-inabee. 
Mullet lake abounds in bass, pike, pickerel, 
muskalonge and perch, and many a noble 
string we see in the small boats as we change 
at the dock to the steamer Irene. 
All too short a time and we are at the 
mouth of Indian river. Across the mouth 
of the river as it broadens, into the lake, 
stretches the old frame work of the bridge 
RECREATION. 
that was so ably described in RECREATION 
several months ago, in the ghost story. In- 
dian river, so clear that we look down into 
its depths and try to count the fish as they 
dart past, startled by the steamer or by the 
reflection of our faces in the water. As the 
trip is made we wind in and out, past one 
curve to find another, past where tall grasses 
and towering trees wave to us from the 
banks, and we are at Indian river village. 
A hurried grabbing and we are carrying 
rods, pails and traps, up the bank, as we 
intend to enjoy nature at this quiet place, 
and are planning to lure some of the fish 
we have seen, to adorn a frying pan. 
Is it fish I taste? Whew, no! nothing, 
only bitter medicine, and I am wide awake 
to the fact that there are more agreeable 
places than a cripple cot in a hospital. 

A JACKRABBIT DRIVE Ad rie © Oley 
P. BE. CRABTREE. 
The ranchmen, in their efforts to raise 
orchards, find their labors continually 
turned to naught by the mischievous jack- 
rabbits. They multiply with inconceivable 
rapidity and are very destructive to young 
trees; hence, by way of self-protection the 
ranchmen are obliged, annually, to organize 
grand hunts to clear the country of these 
pests. 
Let the motive vindicate us from the 
charge—game hogs. It may be proper to 
add that the game captured is sent among 
the poor in Denver, in time for their Christ- 
mas dinners. In aid of this plan the railroad 
furnishes cheap rates for the hunters, and 
transports the game at nominal expense. 
It had been arranged that we should be 
unloaded at Caddoa, 20 miles this side of 
Lamar. Teams were to meet us there, to 
take us to the work. The train, however, 
was late and would not stop, so we—very 
hot under the collar—were set down at 
Lamar instead at 2 a.m. 
As early as possible we started on foot ex- 
pecting to meet the teams on the way. I 
was anxious to test the new smokeless pow- 
der with which I had provided myself, so 
cae I started a “ skip’’ (Colorado cotton- 
tail). 
I pulled up with perfect confidence. 
Snap, snap, twice on the same shell without 
explosion, and “skip” skipped unharmed 
into a dog-hole. My gun had never snapped 
before, and I was surprised. 
Soon after I started a second, missed, 
snapped, then hit at long range. A compan- 
ion hit again—I snapped twice more, hit 
once more, and then we ran him down and 
broke his neck. He was full of shot, and 
why he did not go down I can’t tell. Some- 
thing was wrong with my ammunition. 
Soon after I raised another jack, and 
snapped! After this I carried my gun on 
my shoulder, only occasionally taking a 
snap. 
The second day we had splendid sport; 
in one instance [ killed 3 as fast as I could 
pull trigger, thus demonstrating the supe- 
riority of a repeater. 
At 10 p.m. we were set down in Lamar, 
dumping our catch in a heap, 94 rabbits and 
skips, I hawk, 1 owl for 5 men. 
There were in all 132 hunters engaged in 
this drive, and the result was 4,756 rab- 
bits, 116 wild geese, 1 coyote, 1 bald eagle. 
Each hunter deposited $1 registering fee 
of which 75 per cent. went to Parson 
Uzell’s church in Denver. The remainder 
was devoted to photographing the catch. 
The parson is the principal promoter of 
these annual hunts. 
Each hunter is entitled to as much game 
as he wishes to take home, the remainder 
the parson distributes to the poor. 

