HUNTING A HOLIDAY. 



353 



strolled off through the burning sun to look 

 for the Hospital, being burdened with the 

 mental weight of those magazines. 



The hotel has the stamp of approval of 

 the L. A. S., for it does not furnish game 

 out of season. This being ascertained to my 

 satisfaction, I set about learning whether the 

 inhabitants of the Point were all members in 

 good standing. 



The first man whom I asked about the 

 matter was an officer of the Navy who said, 

 " Of course I protect the little birds. I 

 never see any except sea gulls, and it's bad 

 luck to kill them." 



The sportsman who wants to take his 

 sleeping bag and camp under the stars will 

 find a small paradise in the woods along the 

 beach between Old Point and Buck Roe. A 

 hundred boats are his to use, and nowhere is 

 there better fishing than between the Point 

 and the Cape. At Newport News there is 

 nothing to do but drop a line from the dock, 

 and sheepshead, " spots " and the like will 

 do the rest. 



The sail across to the Cape is as charm- 

 ing a run as a boat-loving man can wish, 

 with a day or 2 to spend at Cape Charles 

 and more fishing. That enthusiastic angler, 

 Hon. Jno. S. Wise, is eloquent about the 

 fishing on the " Eastern Shore," but noth- 

 ing to his mind compares with the Cape it- 

 self, embraced by the open sea. 



In looking for a basket of peaches the 

 other day, among the big commission 

 houses that run along West street by the 

 river's edge, I found a man who had just 

 come from his vacation at home, and home 

 was Cape Charles. We sat on the big 

 packing cases and the old names were in my 

 ears again as he talked of boatmen, and place 

 upon place where I had been. 



I can still see the late sunset striking 

 across the grim fort as I come home from 

 a long tramp, dragging my camera, with its 

 long legs trailing in the sand. Longing for 

 my Mississippi home, it was a constant joy 

 to me to find fish that belong only to Gulf 

 stream water stranded here and there along 

 the beach. I missed the inevitable palmetto 

 of the farther South, but it cheered me to be 

 hailed by an old darky selling " sugar figs," 

 and I liked to rub my hand against the 

 trunks of the big live oaks in the fort, even 

 though they were not draped with Spanish 

 moss. That could not well thrive in an 

 American Fort, just now. It should not be 

 expected. But the bark grows heavier on 

 the live oaks in Virginia than in Missis- 

 sippi. They are hardier old citizens. The 

 fig trees, always favoring the protected side 

 of a house, shrink closer into shelter: while 

 the frail, pink mimosa spreads its thistle- 

 down tufts of fragrance shyly to the sun. 

 Vegetation in Virginia never wholly forgets 

 that there is such a thing as frost. 



In November the quail season opens and 

 the man with the gun can not do better than 

 follow the wanderings of Virginia and my- 



self Eastward on the Chesapeake and Ohio 

 railroad, dropping off anywhere from 

 Petersburg to Charlottesville. The mention 

 of the " C. & O." will always bring up to me 

 the face of conductor Berkley, whom I have 

 never seen since the day he hunted in vain 

 for a telegraphic money order which was 

 awaiting me in Richmond, and trusted me 

 for my ticket and chair to Charlottesville, 

 which was not even on his run. I hope he 

 may read this and know that the many 

 travelers who have received one and an- 

 other kindness at his hands are not alto- 

 gether forgetful, and that " the good we do 

 lives after us." 



Virginia and I went up the James to Rich- 

 mond, but the account of our adventures on 

 that brief excursion would fill a book and 

 still leave much unsaid, especially about that 

 unutterable invention-of-the-evil-one-for-de- 

 moralizing -the-character-of - the-well - inten- 

 tioned — Virginia's typewriter. 



It is with the hunting around Petersburg 

 that we have to do, and Major Sully's in- 

 structions cover the ground so admirably 

 that I quote them as they stand, with a heart 

 full of gratitude for their conciseness which 

 many enthusiastic but vague generalities 



have taught me to appreciate. 



* * * 



In striking distance of Petersburg a 

 sportsman may kill bear, dear, wild turkeys, 

 and quails. The last named are true Con- 

 federates and stick to the South. Their pur- 

 suit yields the real sportsman more pleas- 

 ure and requires more skill than that of any 

 other game. At any rate, that was your 

 father's opinion and mine. 



In addition we have ducks, geese, and 

 large numbers of sora. You probably know 

 the latter as rail. 



For bear you will have to go to Suffolk, 

 on the Norfolk & Western railway, near 

 Dismal Swamp, in which they abound, and 

 where a sportsman may usually manage to 

 secure a trophy. Deer and turkeys can be 

 found, and dogs to hunt them with, at any 

 station on the Atlantic Coast Line railroad 

 between Richmond and Weldon, or on the 

 Norfolk & Western railway between Burke- 

 ville and Suffolk. At most of these stations 

 accommodations more or less comfortable 

 may be obtained. 



The laws governing the pursuit of game 

 and protecting lands from trespass are very 

 rigid as you read them, and penalties for 

 their violation are seemingly severe, but they 

 are necessary, owing to our peculiar popula- 

 tion, and are never enforced against gentle- 

 men sportsmen. Personally I have never 

 had any difficulty in obtaining all the shoot- 

 ing I wanted, either for myself or my friends. 



The lands where duck and wild fowl 

 shooting is exceptionally good are gener- 

 ally owned by clubs and a visiting sports- 

 man, as a general thing, unless he has some 

 friends among such club members, will have 

 to rely on the assistance and the direction 



