FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



459 



Robinson said, " Boys, I'd rather hear that 

 than a brass band. There they go across 

 the road above us." 



Up the road some of us went, the others 

 down. We took our stations about 500 feet 

 apart, waiting for the game to circle and 

 come back. Fainter and fainter grew the 

 baying of the dogs. They went almost out 

 of hearing — but hark! that sounded near. 

 Yes, they have turned and are coming back. 

 Nearer and nearer they come. Now be 

 ready for a quick shot. They are almost 

 here. What? Have they circled and gone 

 back? No they have gone down the ravine. 

 Down the road — quick — to head him off. 

 Too late! Back in the road we go and take 

 our stations again, satisfied bunny will cross 

 next time. 



Sure enough, in a few minutes we hear 

 the dogs coming again. This time Mr. Cot- 

 tontail comes straight for the road. Bang! 

 Some one up the road has the first shot. 

 Did he get him? 



" All right," shouted Burdick. " I've got 

 him." It was a long run for a rabbit — one 

 hour and 15 minutes. 



After giving the dogs a rest we sent them 

 into the brush again. In a very short time 

 they started a rabbit, and thinking it would 

 be a better place down in the ravine I went 

 there and took my stand where I had a 

 good view of both sides of the ravine. I 

 had been there but a short time when I 

 heard the dogs coming. Then I saw the 

 rabbit coming down the hill. He was mak- 

 ing a bee line for where I stood. I said I 

 would not shoot until he started up the hill 

 on the other side. 



He came so near I could have hit him 

 with my gun barrel as he passed. I raised 

 my gun, took deliberate aim and pulled — 

 and pulled — . Then I tried the other trigger 

 and the rabbit was over the hill out of 

 sight. Didn't have my gun cocked! 



Further remarks are unnecessary. Every 

 shooter has been there and knows just how 

 I felt. 



As soon as the dogs had passed I went 

 up to the road and there had the satisfac- 

 tion of seeing one of the boys stop this same 

 rabbit on his return. 



It took nearly one hour to start the next 

 game and nearly 2 hours to bag him. The 

 woods were getting so tracked up, it was 

 hard work for the dogs to follow a fresh 

 track. 



It was now growing late and we decided 

 to start for home. Although we hadn't 

 succeeded in getting as many rabbits as we 

 had expected we were well satisfied with our 

 day's sport. 



N. Mullen, of Harrisville, Lewis Co., N. Y., 

 who is one of the best guides and most 

 accommodating men I have ever met. He 

 knows the Cranberry lake region like a 

 book. This is, without doubt, the best 

 hunting ground in the North woods to-day, 

 owing to St. Lawrence County being closed 

 to hounding. The deer seem to have found 

 this out and they fiock in there from all 

 adjoining Counties, which makes rare sport 

 for those wishing to hunt in a legitimate 

 way. Cranberry lake, with its many tribu- 

 taries, also affords as good sport as can be 

 found in the woods, with rod and reel. 



Mr. Mullen has spent 33 years in this 

 region and can show you a deer, or land you 

 in a trout pond, on short notice. Last July, 

 while fishing in Omstead pond, we saw and 

 counted 32 deer. 



Nothing affords me more solid com- 

 fort than to sit around a blazing camp fire 

 after a long day's hunt, and listen to stories 

 of exploits with gun and rod; then to roll 

 up in my blankets, on a fragrant bed of 

 balsam boughs, and, listen to the crackle of 

 the fire, the sighing of the pines and the 

 numerous other noises from the forest. It's 

 a lullaby you can't enjoy in a city flat, and 

 you awake in the morning feeling that you 

 have really slept and rested. There is no 

 dark brown taste in your mouth to remind 

 you that your room was not properly ven- 

 tilated, and you unroll yourself from your 

 blanket and go about your camp duties 

 feeling like a new man — ready for any 

 amount of hard work. 



Readers of Recreation who have never 

 enjoyed a taste of this life should begin now 

 to lay their plans for a trip into the North 

 woods. One week of camp life there will 

 do you more good than all the medicine a 

 doctor can pour into you in a year. I al- 

 ways begin making my plans for the com- 

 ing year as soon as I get home; and I look 

 forward to it, as a child does to Christ- 

 mas. If one is a true lover of nature he 

 can't help it. The North woods with their 

 rugged mountains, their glassy lakes and 

 sparkling trout streams, are truly a para- 

 dise, and I advise all the readers of this 

 little magazine to buy pack baskets: pack 

 your duffel, adorn yourselves in old clothes, 

 shoulder your rifles and buy tickets for the 

 Adirondacks. E. W. G. 



Syracuse, N. Y. 



Editor Recreation: I should like to ac- 

 quaint the readers of Recreation, who are 

 anticipating a trip to the woods, with Henry 



Neponset, III. 



Editor Recreation: I send you the fol- 

 lowing letter, written me by my brother 

 who some months ago sought the Cascade 

 mountains of Washington for his health. 

 The letter is dated at Lake Chelan, and is 

 as follows: 



A month ago to-day a party of us had an 

 experience I will never forget. It certainly 

 reminded me of the expeditions you made 

 while in Montana. 



