FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



119 



the Sentinel, whereupon G. A. Buck- 

 staff, ex-Speaker of the Wisconsin House 

 of Representatives, and a member of the 

 L. A. S., got back at him in words and 

 figures as follows, to wit: 



I see by a letter published in The Sen- 

 tinel that Dr. Carmichael is in the ranks 

 of the spring shooters. I read the letter 

 carefully, thinking I might find in it some 

 new sophistry in favor of the barbarism, 

 but he simply reiterates the old plea — 

 "other States do it." He points with ap- 

 parent shame to the fact that Wisconsin is 

 one of only 5 States that prohibit spring 

 shooting. It seems to me he ought to 

 rejoice that he is a citizen of a State that 

 leads in so many things that go to prove 

 her citizens are of a higher intellectual and 

 moral tone than those of some of the other 

 States, and the protection of wild fowl in 

 the mating season is not the least of these 

 virtues. He wonders what the spring 

 shooters of other States think of us for 

 protecting game in the spring while they 

 slaughter it. Doesn't the doctor know by 

 this time that greedy, selfish people al- 

 ways take advantage of the unselfish. 

 Doesn't he know that decent people never 

 refrain from doing a good deed for fear 

 someone else will benefit by it? This habit 

 of the spring shooter when censured for 

 his. acts of pointing to someone else who 

 does worse always reminds me of the boy 

 who came to school with unwashed hands, 

 and when the teacher took him to task for 

 it replied, "Huh! If you think my hands 

 are dirty you ought to see my feet!" 



A sportsman is a man who delights in 

 life afield, and the skill it requires to bring 

 the game to bag. To drop a zigzagging 

 snipe, to stop a darting quail, or to bring 

 a whirring grouse out of a thicket, is an 

 art that thrills and invigorates; but to sit 

 behind a blind in the warm spring sun and 

 see stupid, tired bluebills, after their long 

 flight, light among your decoys, unless by 

 the rapid action of a pump gun and plenty 

 of shells you can kill them or drive them 

 away, is the worst kind of slaughtering 

 pot hunting. It requires no skill. Any 

 man who can shoot a gun may kill spring 

 ducks by the score or hundreds. All it 

 requires is a conscience dead -to the 

 viciousness of the practice. 



On the Poygan Gun club marshes a few 

 years ago the Chicago shooters, who do 

 not even merit the odious name of pot 

 hunters shot and buried hundreds of ducks 

 because they could not use them and the 

 law prohibited the sale of them. 



Two years ago this spring I saw at the 

 depot in Oshkosh 3 Milwaukee "sports- 

 men" with 3 trunks and one barrel full of 

 ducks they had shot on the lakes West 

 of the city. The thirst to kill, to slaugh- 

 ter, that wiped out the buffalo and the 

 pigeon is the motive that leads men to 



shoot wild fowl in spring. Breeders of 

 domestic fowls kill their birds in the fall, 

 and the only reason I ever heard for kill- 

 ing wild fowl in the spring is the fear that 

 someone else may gather a part of the 

 crop in the fall. 



DUCKS AND QUAILS IN MEXICO. 



Last fall I had the pleasure of a day's 

 duck shooting on the San Meguil river, 

 in Northwestern Chihuahua. Mexico, 

 about 160 miles Southwest of El Paso, 

 Texas. We went by rail to Casas Gran- 

 des, Mexico. There we were joined by 

 2 more hunters, making 5 in the party. 

 Taking a wagon and team, we went about 

 15 miles from the station. 



A few days before we started, there had 

 been heavy rains all along the line and 

 big pools of water were standing every- 

 where, on which were swimming enough 

 ducks to satisfy New York city. At one 

 place, just beyond Guzman station, there 

 is a depression in the Mesa nearly 24 of a 

 mile across. This was filled with water, 

 and the surface of the water was covered 

 with ducks. We refrained from shooting, 

 however, until we reached the San Meguil. 



The Mexican people, while they are 

 great lovers of game and hunting, rarely 

 kill more than they can use at one time, 

 consequently the game of that section is 

 not at all wild, and one can easily get 

 within range. 



Our party divided on reaching the 

 river, 2 of us working up stream, 2 more 

 going a mile away and then working up 

 stream, while the fifth worked in between. 

 We hunted that way all morning and at 

 noon camped in a grove of cottonwoods 

 abou 15 miles from Casas Grandes. After 

 a delightful repast and many stories had 

 been passed around, we made a short ex- 

 cursion along the river bank, where we 

 secured a few fine specimens of mallard 

 and teal, but it was a little too early in 

 the evening to do much shooting. Re- 

 turning to the wagon we harnessed the 

 horses and started back to Casas Grandes. 

 On the way back we had considerable 

 sport shooting ducks and quails. On 

 counting our game at Casas Grandes we 

 found we had 2.7 ducks and 15 quails. We 

 could just as easily have secured 100 

 ducks, but were satisfied with what we 

 had. We had a delightful time and found 

 the natives of that section very hospitable. 

 F. J. B., El Paso, Texas. 



A STRAY BUFFALO. 

 The following correspondence will in- 

 terest many naturalists and sportsmen: 

 United States Indian Agent, 



Standing Rock Agency, N. D. 

 Dear Sir : I have read in a Chicago pa- 

 per a report that a buffalo has appeared 



