FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



36] 



into a buck. It was too early in the day 

 to quit, so I strolled toward a hardwood 

 ridge. Hearing something on the other 

 side, I made a dash for the top and got 

 there in time to see a large buck run down 

 the other side. I brought my .40-60 re- 

 peater into action and, after several shots, 

 the buck fell. However, before I could 

 get to him he was up and off. I followed 

 a scanty trail of blood nearly 3 hours and 

 finally lost it. 



It was a dark, cloudy day and I had 

 neglected to note the direction I had been 

 going. It was now noon, I had no lunch 

 with me and I began to long for the good 

 things at camp. After consulting the com- 

 pass I decided on a course. I soon struck 

 a tamarack swamp in which I floundered 

 an hour trying to reach the other side. No 

 sooner did I get out of this swamp than 

 I came to another. I tried to go around 

 it, and followed its edge until I was tired. 

 Then I plunged into it. It was 3 o'clock 

 when I got out. 



On the first high ground I saw another 

 buck, showing a huge pair of antlers. 

 Three or 4 shots brought an attack of heart 

 failure on him, and when I reached him he 

 was stone dead. 



It was now dusk and beginning to rain, 

 and I realized that the camp was lost. I 

 rushed through another swamp a mile or 

 more wide, blazing the trees with a jack 

 knife as I went, that I might be able to find 

 the buck again. At last I struck an old 

 logging road and followed it about 2 miles 

 to a road I knew was within 5 miles of 

 camp. With this clue I found the camp 

 about 8 p.m., and so happily finished a big 

 day for a tenderfoot. 



" SEVEN TIMES AND OUT." 



Frostproof, Fla. 

 Editor Recreation: One fine morning 

 I took a horseback ride with an old woods- 

 man to his hunting grounds. My compan- 

 ion carried his shotgun, and his dogs fol- 

 lowed. We came to a swamp where we 

 were sure we should find a deer. Sure 

 enough, the old hound struck trail and dis- 

 appeared in the thick brush. My compan- 

 ion dismounted, and soon we heard some- 

 thing smashing through the brush and vines 

 in our direction. In a moment more the 

 antlers of a buck appeared. My companion 

 fired and wounded the deer, but not severely 

 enough to cripple him. He dashed into the 

 brush with the hounds at his heels. We 

 mounted and followed. We came in sight 

 of the buck in time to see him run into a 

 tree, which meant that one of his eyes was 

 shot out. Gathering himself together, he 

 ran on, but in a circle, and was soon near 

 us. Two more charges of buck shot were 

 thrown at him. The deer passed on, and 

 the man with the gun looked at himself to 

 see what was the matter. The gun was re- 



loaded and the buck dodged 2 more loads 

 of shot and went on. By this time the old 

 man was asking himself some questions, 

 but before he had time to answer any the 

 deer was nearer than ever, and coming 

 right for us. He made a furious lunge at 

 my companion. Another and the last 

 charge was fired and some quick dodging 

 done, but it was the man this time who 

 dodged. The deer passed right on and 

 caught the bridle reins of my horse in his 

 antlers. The reins happened to be un- 

 buckled, which probably saved the life of 

 the horse. Then the dogs caught the deer's 

 heels and all rolled on the ground together. 

 If we ha'd had another charge of shot we 

 could have ended the circus there. 



A spruce limb was the only available 

 weapon in sight. My comrade seized that 

 and struck the deer across the head. The 

 limb, being decayed, smashed into sticks, 

 and the buck rose and made a desperate 

 charge. Some more quick dodging to the 

 blind side of the deer saved a collision, and 

 the animal passed on again, but stopped 

 in a few rods tc stand off the dog. Once 

 more my companion rallied to the attack 

 and after a short struggle succeeded in 

 throwing the buck. Then a knife ended the 

 trouble. Munsey Carson. 



This was a piece of cold-blooded cruelty. 

 I pity the man who has to go into partner- 

 ship with a dog to get venison. — Editor. 



"THEN THE MASTER BOWMAN SPAKE." 



Recent stories in Recreation encourage 

 me to tell my experience at Nigger-wool 

 swamp, in Pukedom, Mo. A few of us 

 " old uns " started with teams for Allen- 

 ville, on the Iron Mountain R.R., and met 

 the boys at that place. Among other 

 things, we took a large gill /let for fish, 

 and a quail net. Loading up our plunder, 

 we went to Whitewater. There we found 

 that squirrels were migrating. We set the 

 wings of our quail net close to the river, 

 with a hollow log between the wings. Then 

 stationing 2 of our best men at the outlet, 

 the rest of us, by firing guns, drove the 

 squirrels to the river. As they came out 

 of the log our 2 braves, armed with clubs, 

 knocked them over. At night we counted 

 1,234 heads. It took us all night to clean 

 them. Next day we shipped them to St. 

 Louis, where they brought a good price. 



Then we started for the big lakes. That 

 night it turned cold, and in the morning 

 the water was covered with ducks. Be- 

 tween the 2 lakes was a narrow waterway 

 over, which the branches of tall cypress trees 

 met, forming a leafy arcade. Most of the 

 wildfowl preferred to pass through this, 

 rather than over the treetops. 



After our success with the squirrels, we 

 concluded to try the gill net on ducks. 

 With ropes we stretched the net across the 



