xxii RECREATION. 

HUNTING IN THE SIERRA MADRE 
MOUNTAINS. 
ERNEST E. RUSSELL, 
The completion, in 1897, of the first di- 
vision of the Rio Grande, Sierra Madre & 
Pacific railroad from El Paso, Texas, 150 
miles Southwest to Casas Grandes, Mexico, 
opened a new field for American sportsmen. 
Blacktail deer can be found within 10 
or 15 miles of the railroad along the great- 
er part of its line. From spring to autumn 
one can hardly make a trip over the road 
without seeing one or more herds of ante- 
lope. Thirty to is miles West and South- 
west of Casas Grandes whitetail deer 
and turkeys abound, with occasionally a sil- 
vertip, cinnamon, or black bear, a moun- 
tain lion, and a few wolves. Ducks are 
plentiful along the larger streams; chiefly 
teals, but some mallards. 
The climate is superb, The best time 
for hunting is from the middle of October 
to the first of January. In the latter part 
of that season the nights are cold, and a 
snowstorm may be encountered; but 
usually the days are sunny and so warm 
that a coat is burdensome: The moun- 
tains are covered with grass and a sparse 
growth of pine and live oak. Numerous 
brooks afford the best of drinking water. 
I hunted deer 75 miles Southwest of 
Casas Grandes in December, ’97, and Janu- 
ary, 98; each time in company with A. M. 
Tenney, Jr., of Colonia Diaz, and George 
Lunt, of Colonia Pacheco, Chihuahua. I 
killed 2 deer on my first trip, which wa3 
also my first deer hunt. 
Tenney is by long odds the most suc- 
cessful deer hunter in that region, and 
Lunt is generally rated as second to Ten- 
ney. In the past, deer have been so plen- 
tiful and. hunters from outside so few that 
the residents have killed deer in large 
numbers, not only for their own use but 
for the market. However, the time 
has come, as is generally admitted down 
there, for checking this wholesale slaugh- 
ter. It is expected that before another 
hunting season opens the Mexican Goy- 
ernment will put in force an adequate 
game law. I haye heard Tenney express 
himself in favor of it. It does not seem 
fair to condemn these people for killing 
deer in such large numbers in the past, 
however much the sportsman is justified 
in condemning like action in the Adiron- 
dacks or in Maine, where the extermination 
of game is imminent; so I venture to give 
some figures to show what one man can do 
in the Sierra Madre mountains. 
Tenney is 29 years old. He was born in 
Utah, but spent most of his life in Apache 
county, Arizona, and the adjoining county 
in New Mexico. He moved to Mexico 6 
or 7 years ago. His life on the frontier 
brought him into the company of the best 
hunters of that region of big game and 
plenty of it. He says he has been a hunter 
since he was 13 years old. 
His highest record for one day’s deer 
hunting was made in December, ’95, when 
he killed 13 deer. The next day he killed 
5 more. The meat was dried for home 
use. On a more recent occasion he went 
out on a 6 days’ hunt with 3 other men. 
The party killed 57 deer, of which Tenney 
dropped 37. He killed 4 on the way to the 
hunting grounds and 33 in the 5 days de- 
voted to hunting. Even if a hog about kill- 
ling deer, he can not be called a hog about 
keeping them for on this occasion he 
offered to share alike with the rest of the 
party, and they gratefully accepted the 
offer. These figures show how his work in 
the woods compares with that of other 
men thereabout. When Tenney and Lunt 
are out together, Lunt gets about half as 
many as Tenney. It must not be inferred, 
however, that Tenney devotes himself en- 
tirely to hunting. He is a farmer and like 
most of the people in that region does a 
good deal of freighting. 
Ducks and turkeys fare as badly when he 
gets after them. On one occasion he and 
a companion went duck shooting on the 
Palatada marsh, West of Colonia Diaz. 
They wanted mallards, but the teals kept 
swarming down in their way. At last they 
got disgusted and turned loose on the teals 
as well. In an hour they brought down 15 
teals and mallards with about 30 shots. 
With the hollow bone of a turkey wing 
or a piece of reed Tenney imitates the tur- 
key’s call with great success; so well, in- 
deed, that he once inveigled an uncle of 
his into crawling half a mile through the 
grass to get a shot at “that turkey.” On an- 
other occasion Tenney had chopped down a 
big pine tree, and while resting pulled out 
his turkey bone and gave the call. A 
gobbler answered. Again Tenney called, 
and again the gobbler gobbled. Tenney 
kept calling and the gobbler kept coming 
and gobbling, his tail spread and his wings 
scraping the ground. When he got to the 
tree Tenney had cut down he hopped up 
among the branches and picked his way 
along the trunk to within 6 feet of the 
stump. Then Tenney rose from where he 
had been crouching behind the stump. The 
gobbler gave a squawk of disgust and left. 
Why didn’t Tenney shoot him? Because he 
had no gun. 
Tenney has used many guns, and thinks 
any one of the standard small caliber 
smokeless powder guns will do good work 
in the hands of a man who knows how to 
use it. He killed the 37 deer with a Savage 
.303 caliber. Then he sold it to Lunt and 
bought a 25-35. He fitted it with Lyman 
peep, bead, and leaf sights, and thinks it is 
all right for deer. 

Mr. Millyuns—Now, Tommy, you must 
go to school and work hard. Why, look 
at me! I started without a cent, and now 
I’m a millionaire. 
Tommy—Yes, I know; but you can’t do 
it any more. They all have cash registers 
now.—Mail and Express. 

