42 



RECREA TION. 



the larger part is well adapted to the rais- 

 ing of wheat and other grains. 



Owing to the scarcity of water, stock 

 raising is confined to the vicinity of sev- 

 eral small streams which flow through the 

 most rocky parts; leaving the more valu- 

 able lands useless for want of water. The 

 streams are alive with mountain trout and 

 every liftle portd is covered with game. 



We expected to stop over in Moses cou- 

 lee for a day's sport on Jamison's lake. 

 This famous coulee is situated 25 miles 

 East of Waterville and runs parallel with 

 the Grand coulee for many miles, through 

 a level stretch of country. It varies in 

 width from several hundred yards to a 

 mile, and is 300 to 700 feet deep. Its per- 

 pendicular rock walls make it impossible 

 to cross except in 2 places, Sulphur Springs 

 and Jamison's lake. The latter route has 

 been abandoned for several years and was 

 almost impassable. We arrived at the lake 

 with our 4 horse team at 5 p.m. After sup- 

 per we made camp snug for the night and 

 concluded to go hunting by moonlight. 



Jamison's lake is a body of clear fresh 

 water, several miles long and ~%. mile wide. 

 At the time of our visit it was covered 

 with large flocks of ducks and geese, while 

 in the brush around it were chickens, sage- 

 hens, rabbits and coyotes. Under the full 

 moon of a splendid September night, the 

 scene was one of rare beauty and enchant- 

 ment. The strange charm of the night, 

 combined with the knowledge that we 

 were the only human beings for miles 

 around, made an impression that will long 

 be remembered. 



Suddenly the silence was broken by the 

 report of Ralph's gun. Instantly there was 

 a great commotion on the lake, and the 

 air was full of whistling wings. Bang! 

 bang! several more shots rang out. The 

 echo was wonderful. It seemed to leap 

 from side to side of the narrow canyon un- 

 . til it grew fainter and fainter in the dis- 

 tance. 



After several hours of fine sport, and 

 bagging a number of ducks, we drifted 

 slowly back to camp, silent!., enjoying 

 one of the most beautiful scenes of nature. 



W. H. Turner. 



KANSAS GAME. 



I came to Kansas 20 years ago, when it 

 was indeed a paradise for hunters. The 

 buffalo had long since disappeared but 

 there was abundance of small game. 

 Prairie chickens were everywhere — mill- 

 ions of them. Little did we think they 

 would ever become so scarce as they are 

 now. The past winter afforded good sport 

 at quail shooting, and as we have had a 

 mild winter, their numbers ought to in- 

 crease if they are properly protected. 



A market hunter came to grief here last 

 winter. He had been making regular ship- 

 ments of " butter " packed in baskets. One 



night, while he was at the depot marking 

 his freight, he was arrested. He had 13 

 baskets of quails — marked butter — con- 

 signed to New York, and containing 667 

 birds; each one wrapped separately like 

 oranges. He was tried, pleaded guilty 

 and was fined the enormous sum of $15 

 and costs, amounting in all to something 

 over $30. How he got off so easy no one 

 can explain. 



There are not many ducks in this part 

 of the State; our streams are not suitable 

 for them. In Southwestern Kansas, along 

 the Arkansas river, ducks and geese are 

 plentiful at the present time, and large 

 numbers are being shot. Jack rabbits are 

 abundant, and chasing them with grey- 

 hounds furnishes great sport. 



J. C. Townley, Enterprise, Kan. 



ONE LESS DEER SLAYER. 



My friend B. and I went grouse hunting 

 in Northern Wisconsin. We arrived in 

 Warner the day before the season opened, 

 and from there went 4 miles up the Flam- 

 beau. B. carried a repeating Winchester 

 shot gun and I a 38-55, lest we might see 

 a bear, wolf, or wild cat. The birds were 

 fairly plentiful, and we got- all we could use. 

 B. was much afraid I would kill a deer, if 

 opportunity offered, and cautioned me not 

 to get excited and shoot one. On the sec- 

 ond day we planned to go to Ben Graves' 

 old hunting camp, about 3 miles above the 

 Shaw dam. We arrived there at noon. 

 While I was toasting grouse by the fire, B. 

 looked up the river and called to me, " Get 

 your rifle quick! There is a deer!" Twelve 

 rods up the river, I saw a beautiful, large 

 doe making for the woods on the opposite 

 side. Farther up the river I saw what I 

 supposed was her fawn, coming toward us 

 with all possible speed. When it came near- 

 er I saw it was a large timber wolf, evident- 

 ly pursuing the deer. I told B. to put a 

 charge of buckshot in his gun and be ready. 

 When the wolf was about 30 rods off I let 

 go at him, and missed. Again I tried to 

 cover him. This time I could plainly see 

 his shoulder through my Lyman sights, and 

 pulled again. Still he went on, and as he 

 passed a barn, which stood below us on the 

 bank, B. and I fired together. We both 

 ran around the barn and looked down the 

 river. On the rocks, a few rods below the 

 barn, lay the wolf, stone dead. After skin- 

 ning him we found he was shot through 

 the point of the heart. My last shot broke 

 a foreleg. The wolf measured from tip to 

 tip, 6 feet 6 inches, and 30 inches in height. 

 From fore legs to hind legs, stretched out, 

 6 feet 8 inches. The Thornapple was shal- 

 low at that time, and the deer was evidently 

 running in the water to throw the wolf off 

 the scent. We returned home a day or 2 

 later, with our wolf hide and 24 grouse; 

 realizing we had enjoyed a hunt not soon 

 to be forgotten. J. H. B., Eau Claire, Wis. 



