
The Warden and the Editor 
We have often observed that a game warden 
is not without honor, save in his own news- 
paper. If he does his duty as well as he can 
under the always adverse conditions, he gets 
rapped over the head by the local newspaper 
for an excess of zeal, and if, on the other hand, 
he chances to be one of the weaker spirits who 
succumb to ‘‘public indignation,” he is jeered 
at for being afraid of his own shadow. And 
more’s the pity, there is no happy medium that 
will satisfy the editor and his own sense of 
honor. What is more, for the warden to 
remonstrate with the newspaper for publishing 
an ill-advised article bearing on the enforce- 
ment of the fish or game law is to call down 
upon his luckless head the whole editorial gall 
pot. 
As an instance of the manner in which many 
newspapers obstruct the work of the game 
wardens, we will quote an extract from the La 
Crosse (Wis.) Chronicle of April 19: 
‘‘Organized violations of the game law pro- 
hibiting spring shooting of ducks is the unusual 
condition which confronts game wardens in La 
Crosse. we 
‘‘With this firm determination on the part of 
the hunters of the district, the strict enforcement 
of the law against spring shooting is impossible 
here. There is no demand for the enforcement 
of the law, for the ducks will be shot elsewhere 
if not here. As long as there is shooting in the 
lakes around La Crosse there will be gunning. 
And just now the shooting’s fine—better far 
than it ever is in the open season.” 
Comment on the subject discussed by this 
newspaper is unnecessary in these columns, 
since every enlightened sportsman must cer- 
tainly be opposed to the spring shooting of wild- 
fowl and in hearty sympathy with the work 
of the game wardens. What we wish to impress 
upon the reader is that he owes it to the game 
warden in his district to see that none but 
rational articles relating to the fish and game 
laws appear in the local newspaper. The 
reader can readily appreciate what a blow the 
above-quoted article must have been to the 
warden in La Crosse. 
If an influential sportsman in any country 
town or small city will undertake to educate 
the editor of the town’s representative news- 
paper in fish and game law matters, it can be 
done—provided, of course, that it is needed. 
If several such sportsmen in such a place will 
call upon the editor of a newspaper that does 
not properly support the cause of fish and game 
protection, they can bring about a change for 
the better. If the real sportsmen of any com- 
munity that supports a newspaper that is 
hostile to the game laws will refuse to patronize 
such newspaper and will denounce its editorial 
policy as being harmful to the best interests of 
all sportsmen, they can put a stop to the evil. 
We urge our readers to act on this suggestion 
wherever there is missionary work to do and 
if a subscription to RECREATION will avail with 
the local editor, to send us his name. 
But for a mere game warden to ‘‘sass” the 
editor of his local newspaper, no matter how 
obscure the paper, would be as foolhardy as 
for an ordinary citizen of the lightweight class 
to remonstrate with a drunken policeman. 

The Warden and His Murderers 
It not infrequently happens that the hostile 
attitude of the public press toward a hard- 
working game warden swiftly deprives him of 
his position. Where politics cuts a figure in the 
fish and game commission, it is almost sure 
to get a good warden out of office as soon as he 
shows his hand. 
And then, again, there are other ways. As an 
example, let us take the case of I. Seeley Houk, 
_ who was until about April 15 last the Deputy 
Fish and Game Warden at New Castle, Pa. 
Some railroad men, passing along the bank 
of the Mahoning River, near Hilltown station, 
found the lifeless body of Houk lying at the 
bottom of a steep stone embankment, in water 
about two feet deep, where the river formed an 
eddy. The body lay face downward, with the 
arms extended. A long raincoat worn by the 
warden had been doubled up over his head, and 
upon this three heavy stones, each weighing 
fifty pounds or more, had been placed to keep 
the body from rising to the surface. Stones 
were piled on the feet and legs also. 
The coroner’s post-mortem examination 
revealed frightful wounds about the dead war- 
den’s breast and head, caused by a load of slugs 
