A WHITE RABBIT HUNT. 



A. C. TODD. 



Two years ago last Christmas I spent a 

 delightful week in Pike county, Pa., hunt- 

 ing white rabbits, and I incidentally learned 

 there are still localities within a fe*v hours' 

 journey of the metropolis where wild game 

 can be found in abundance. 



Christmas morning, at 10 o'clock, I met 

 my hunting companion at the 42d street 

 ferry house in New York, as arranged, and 

 after crossing the river, we boarded the 

 train that was to carry us to our destina- 

 tion. We were bound for Narrowsburg, 35 

 miles beyond Port Jervis, on the main* line. 

 Owing to a delay it was nearly midnight 

 when we reached the end of our journey. 

 The next morning we took 2 of our host's 

 best beagles and passed the day tramping 

 through the laurel swamps and over the 

 rocky hills near the village. We had hard- 

 ly passed out of sight of the house when 

 the baying of the dogs told us they had 

 struck a trail. Up over the hill they went 

 and down into the swamps beyond, while 

 we followed as rapidly as possible. At the 

 edge of the swamp we halted and took posi- 

 tions 100 feet apart, near the spot where 

 the dogs had disappeared in the laurels. We 

 knew that the game, after circling around 

 the valley, would probably return on its 

 back track. We had not long to wait. The 

 speed at which these animals travel is 

 marvelous. The baying of the dogs 

 grew louder and more distinct. They 

 were approaching rapidly and the rabbit 

 might appear at any moment. We were 

 fairly trembling with excitement. A bush 

 moved on my left. My gun was pointing at 

 it and I was about to fire when suddenly 

 the game emerged in full sight and coolly 

 squatted down, staring at me with its_ great 

 sparkling eyes. It made a pretty picture, 

 its white form outlined against the dark 

 green background of laurel. It seemed a 

 shame to spoil it and I hesitated to shoot ; 

 but the dogs were drawing near and the 

 fame was off again, covering the ground 

 in long, rapid leaps. My sight followed it. 

 I pulled the trigger, the animal turned over 

 and over, and, after a few convulsive 

 movements, lay still. The first white rab- 

 bit was mine. Before the day was over 

 we killed 5 more, which made as heavy a 

 load as we wished to carry home. 



The next morning we were up early and 

 found our host had planned a pleasant sur- 

 prise for us. A team was standing at the 

 door, in charge of one of the local hunters, 

 waiting .to take us back in the mountains 

 to enjoy a day's sport. We traveled oyer 

 rough roads for 10 miles before reaching 

 the home of a relative of our host, where 



we put up the horses. For 2 miles we fol- 

 lowed our guide on foot along the brow of a 

 low ridge and finally reached ^n unbroken 

 wilderness that extended for many miles, 

 heavily timbered with spruce and pine, 

 crossed by sluggish streams, with now and 

 then stretches of swamp land, covered with 

 almost impenetrable laurel brakes. There 

 small game of all kinds was known to be 

 plentiful, and it was not unusual to meet a 

 bear or a wildcat. 



Tracks of white rabbits were seen in all 

 directions. The dogs soon found a fresh 

 trail and were off in full cry. After circling 

 in the usual way, the game was brought 

 back and promptly bagged and another one 

 started. We secured 8 rabbits before noon. 



Lunch over, we penetrated deeper into 

 the swamp, in the hope of meeting larger 

 game. Four of the dogs were off on rabbit 

 trails which they could not be induced to 

 abandon, but we managed to keep 2 of them 

 with us and they proved of great use be- 

 fore we had gone far. I discovered a coon 

 trail which led along the bank of a brook, 

 and we followed it in the hope of its lead- 

 ing to some old dead trees where the ani- 

 mal could be smoked out and killed. The 

 trail finally left the brook and led back into 

 the timber, where it was joined by the track 

 of another and evidently a larger animal. 

 The trails mingled for some distance and 

 soon we reached a spot where the snow 

 was greatly disturbed, and covered with 

 blood, showing that a desperate conflict had 

 taken place. A little farther on we found 

 the half devoured remains of the coon, ly- 

 ing under a bush. Our guide said the 

 animal that had followed and killed the 

 coon was evidently a wildcat, which had 

 hidden its prey, after making a good meal, 

 with the intention of returning at some fu- 

 ture time to finish it. That was just the 

 chance we wanted. 



We put the dogs on the trail and my 

 companions pressed on, while I took up a 

 position in a place that was known as a fa- 

 vorite runway for deer and other wild ani- 

 mals when pursued. Two hours passed 

 and I heard no sound from the dogs or the 

 hunters. It was growing monotonous, and 

 I was just thinking of returning to the 

 wagon when I heard a loud crashing in the 

 bushes not 50 feet away. The next moment 

 they parted and out sprang a tierce looking 

 animal about 4 times as large as a big tom- 

 cat. I was so startled that the gun nearly 

 dropped from my hand. Just then the bay- 

 ing of the hounds started through the 

 swamp, and I knew they were following 

 rapidly. The wildcat saw me and seemed 



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