xxvm 



RECREATION 



Indian 



Sout 



s of 



Where they live and how to get there— their homes, 

 handicraft and ceremonies — an intensely interest- 

 ing book of more than two hundred pages — writ- 

 ten by Geo. A. Dorsey, Ph.D., Curator of Anthro- 

 pology, Field Columbian Museum, an authority 

 on the "Amerind" — profusely illustrated with 

 half-tones from special photos — handsome cover 

 in colors — sent anywhere on receipt of fifty cents 

 — valuable for schoolroom or library. Address 

 Geo. T. Nicholson, 1312 Great Northern Bldg., 

 Chicago. 



"IT LEASTS" 



The most satisfactory roof- 

 ing for camps. Each roll 

 a complete roofing kit. 

 Adapted to any roof in all 

 climates. No paint required 

 when first laid. Write us 

 for samples and prices. 



Mention Recreation 



F. W. BIRD & SON 



MAKERS 



East Walpole, Mass., U.S.A. 

 New York Chicago 



A CUTE DEER. 



L. C. ELERICK. 



The incident of which I write occurred 

 many years ago. Eastern Iowa was then 

 a wild country, with an abundance of game, 

 especially deer and wild turkeys. Squirrels 

 were so plentiful in the timber along the 

 Des Moines river and its tributaries that 

 the better class of hunters did not consider 

 them legitimate game. Many sportsmen 

 believed^ even before Recreation com- 

 menced its valiant fight for game protec- 

 tion, that the list" of birds and animals, 

 classed as game, might well be still fur- 

 ther reduced. Indeed, some of us have 

 about decided that we love all God's crea- 

 tures better alive than der.d. 



At that time every fencerail, clump of 

 underbrush and copsewood had its covey of 

 quails or ruffed grouse, but hunters paid lit- 

 tle attention to such small game. In fact 

 many would not waste a load of ammuni- 

 tion on even a wild turkey, because the 

 report of a gun might frighten a deer. 



In those days, too, there were human 

 brutes who hounded deer for a livelihood, 

 and then, as now, this class was thorough- 

 ly despised by honorable sportsmen. I 

 have often known hunters to watch run- 

 ways, or crossings, and permit the nearly 

 exhausted deer to pass unmolested and then 

 kill the hounds as they went by. The 

 hunter would perhaps go home without 

 meat for supper, but with the consciousness 

 of a good deed done I plead guilty. 



My father was a great deer hunter, and 

 always used a muzzle loading rifle. It 

 seemed to me that no matter what the 

 circumstances, whether the deer was run- 

 ning or standing, in thick brush or in the 

 open, when Father's rifle cracked the veni- 

 son was ours. He naturally wanted me, his 

 eldest son, to follow in his footsteps, a..d 

 when I was 14 years old he bought me a 

 small rifle. Needless to say I was proud. 



One evening in November, shortly after I 

 became the owner of the little rifle, I was 

 out, boylike, for anything that wore hair 

 or feathers. Passing along a cow path, 

 through a hazel copse, my eye caught a 

 movement in the thick brushes some 20 

 paces to my left. Instantly I was all atten- 

 tion, and plainly saw a deer's head, with 

 magnificent horns, being slowly and cau- 

 tiously lowered to the ground. The motion 

 continued until the head lay flat on the 

 ground, with the horns apparently resting 

 on the buck's neck. He evidently thought 

 he was hidden, and lay motionless except 

 for an occasional slow wink. I moved side- 

 ways slowly and carefully, until my gun — 

 which, though small, was heavy for me 

 — rested against a hickory sapling. Then 

 waiting a little for my heart to quit jump- 

 ing up and turning over, I drew a bead on 

 the deer's eye and fired. The deer never 

 got up. I went home the proudest boy in 

 all Iowa. Those grand antlers lay for 

 years, unmounted, about the paternal home- 

 stead in Van Buren county, Iowa. 



