SPORT IN SQUIRREL-SHOOTING 
gun cannot be used with as much satis- 
faction for ducks or geese as a heavier gun, 
but I know it is there with the goods when 
it comes to any smaller game that may 
choose to hunt in the timber, the marshes 
or the uplands, and my preference is a 
double-barrel hammerless, weighing 63 
pounds, left barrel full choke and right a 
modified choke. . 
The tyro squirrel-hunter will find it 
best to try it alone to start. Lessons in 
squirrel-hunting are best and quickest 
learned by the novice when he is left alone 
in the silent woodland, where he quickly 
learns by experience all the tricks that 
Mr. Squirrel will practise on him. 
Choose a bright day in October and 
make an early start for some large timber 
tract that is pretty well sprinkled with old 
trees. The sun will be just coming up in 
the east as you arrive at the fence at the 
edge of the woods, if you have timed your 
visit wisely. Certain natural impulses cause 
a halt, and presently you find yourself 
sitting on the ground with your back against 
a big black oak, your nostrils wide open to 
enjoy to the full the invigorating air and 
your ears catching all the sounds that come 
with the awakening of a frosty October 
morning. The cries of noisy jays, which 
always seem to have time to arouse lazy 
squirrels with their raucous racket, are 
mingled with the clear-cut whistle of some 
happy Bob White, sitting on the old rail 
fence at the edge of the timber, perhaps 
wondering why the farmer, who, the day 
before, just finished shucking the field of 
corn, did not leave a few ears of the golden 
grain for his especial benefit. Suddenly 
you are awakened from your day-dream 
by a succession of sharp, clear barks. 
Steady. Keep your seat. Just sit still and 
wait for your squirrel to make some more 
noise. Now is when you feel a bit nervous. 
You are a novice at squirrels and you may 
never have had the squirrel fever ; which is, in 
my opinion, just about as bad as buck 
fever. There he barks again. Now, as 
you know just what is making the noise, 
the muscles in your face grow rigid and 
your fingers twitch nervously at the trigger 
of your gun. Better try to locate him. So 
off comes your cap and you twist yourself 
into all kinds of shapes trying to get a look 
224 
in the direction of the noise. For whatseems 
almost an age you remain on your hands 
and knees, waiting for that squirrel to 
make just a little more noise, when you are 
sure you will be able to sight him. Ah, 
there he barks again! But you were not 
looking in quite the right direction. Well, 
be patient and wait awhile. 
After a series of exciting moments when 
the squirrel barked and you failed to 
locate him, you finally see him sitting right 
in plain view. “I wonder why I could not 
see him before,’”’ you say to yourself. The 
shot looks a pretty long one, so down you 
get, flat on the ground, and crawl around 
until a tree is between you and the squirrel. 
Then, in a sneaking position, you creep up 
until within about twenty yards. You 
move the gun out around the tree and 
follow it up with your head. But, lo and 
behold! the limb on which your squirrel 
sat is vacant. You come out from behind 
the tree a sadder and a wiser squirrel- 
hunter than you were twenty minutes ago. 
You have learned one big lesson, and that 
is, never take your eyes off the squirrel until 
you have him in your pocket. If you do 
he is going to make you travel for his hide, 
and if he once gets into his hole, as this 
fellow seemingly has, the best thing you 
can do is to move on and not wait for him 
to come out. So now, just you go and hunt 
another, and come back for this one in 
about an hour’s time. 
Soon you come to a “squirrely” big 
hickory tree, and being tired, you sit down. 
And you are no sooner still than along 
comes a nice big fox squirrel; he does not 
see you until he is within about ten yards of 
the hickory, because you now have sense 
enough to sit still, On your moving your 
foot just enough to let him know that you 
are not a public highway, the squirrel, in 
surprise, side-steps and runs up a small 
oak. He is only near-scared. It is an easy 
shot and you soon have your first squirrel 
in your pocket. 
“Hey, thar! Want you to git right out 
of this timber; pretty quick, too. Next 
time I catch you in here [ll run ye in. 
First gol darn thing I know you'll be 
shootin’ one o’ my cows. This here’s my 
cow pasture, not a shootin’ gallery.” Here 
is another place to show your nerve. Just 
