A HIT AND A MISS 
Shooting Deer in Wisconsin—A Plea for the 
Sportsman 
BY HARRY L. MEANS 
HAD never shot deer 
in Wisconsin, and the 
guide, with nature’s gift 
of poesy, had been 
painting a picture, 
beautiful, irrefragable, 
»-| for the coming winter. 
f(a,| The wind whistled 
» | plaintively, threatening 
to unroof the abandon- 
ed shack that gave us 
covert; the lake pitched 
and tossed, bidding de- 
fiance to the downpour without, while we, 
the guide and I, talked of deer-hunting and 
resignedly inspected two pickerel and a 
half-dozen pike—the result of the after- 
noon’s trolling. 
“‘Over three thousand last season,’’ he 
exclaimed, reverting to his discourse on 
deer. 
““Men, or deer ?”’ I ventured. 
‘‘Well, mostly deer—yet, some men.” 
The reply, taciturnly made, was com- 
forting, if not reassuring, and suggested 
that the aim of the hunter, I will not say 
sportsman, is not always deadly. 
Following the close of the open season 
on deer in the States in the North and East 
where deer are shot, the daily papers yearly 
chronicle the fatalities, and the summary 
is appalling. Men, many of whom might 
own to a knowledge of woodcraft, wantonly 
shoot fellow-hunters for deer. These casual- 
ties, sometimes reaching half a hundred in 
a single season, are of yearly recurrence. 
When the poor marksmanship of such men 
is considered, it is shocking to contemplate 
what might have been had the eye and 
the finger worked in unison. 
Text writers upon criminal law say that 
where one, by his negligence, causes or 
contributes to the death of another, 
he is guilty of manslaughter. Negligence 

which will render unintentional homicide 
criminal may be described as such care- 
lessness, or recklessness, as is incompatible 
with a proper regard for human life. Does 
it not seem reasonable, then, that a case 
of manslaughter might be made out against 
the person who recklessly fires at every 
moving object, knowing, too, that at such 
season the hunters outnumber the deer 
five to one? 
Why, then, is it not a crime to take 
human life in the woods of Maine or 
Michigan or Wisconsin? Conviction is 
the best antidote for crime. Far be it from 
my purpose to scold; but, in passing, I 
cannot stifle the suggestion that while pro- 
tecting the game we might throw the mantle 
of compassion around the sportsman. 
I wrote the Game Warden of Wisconsin 
for instances of conviction. He was unable 
to give any. My letter to the Game Warden 
of Maine is, thus far, unanswered. My 
inquiry of the Warden of Michigan de- 
veloped the good news that at least one 
State is considerate of our fellow-beings, 
and I take pleasure in quoting from the 
letter of State Warden Charles H. Chap- 
man, as follows: 
‘‘Replying to your inquiry as to the num- 
ber of people shot in Michigan and which 
resulted fatally, will say that I know of but 
three fatalities in Michigan during the past 
year. Two of the cases were not prosecuted 
under this statute (Act 121 of P.A. 1903), 
being purely accidental, while one of the 
cases occurred in this county, a Finlander 
killing one of the residents of the county, 
mistaking him for a bear while he was 
walking along the railroad track just at 
dark. 
“The Finlander was prosecuted under 
this statute and convicted. There were 
circumstances surrounding this case which 
made it very aggravated. As soon as the 
