FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



197 



sneaking, skulking, selfish and dishonest; 

 who have made it necessary, for just such a 

 fearless journal as Recreation to build a 

 pen and put the branding iron in the fire. 



Mr. Webber invites Eastern men to come 

 out here to "God's country" for game; 

 but after him and his herd neither God nor 

 man can find game, more than a few years 

 longer. I love to hunt and fish as well as 

 any one, but no true sportsman will ever 

 slaughter beyond a reasonable amount. 

 My wife and I have spent our annual out- 

 ings, for years, with rod and gun. We have 

 hunted and fished from Puget Sound to the 

 heart of the Cascades and made it a rule 

 years ago, when game seemed to be in 

 never ending numbers, never to kill more 

 than we could make immediate use of. 

 Some of our greatest pleasures have been 

 in studying the habits of game in its native 

 haunts, and in passing it by unmolested. 

 It makes one only too sadly realize the 

 swift passing of game to revisit some favor- 

 ite spot, after an interval of only a year or 

 2, to note the alarming decrease. We spent 

 a month last fall in the mountains about 

 Lake Chelan, where well defined game 

 trails lead in all directions; but alas the 

 trails are all that is left. We traveled many 

 a weary mile to reach that spot where the 

 game hog and the hide butcher had not 

 been; but he had been everywhere and his 

 deadly work was complete. Members of 

 the Webber herd visited the lake when the 

 deep snows of '95 drove goats and mule 

 deer out of the mountains, to the lake 

 shore, and killed them by the hundreds, 

 merely for the hides. 



We hear only words of praise for Rec- 

 reation's course in regard to the game 

 hog, and may it long live and keep ever- 

 lastingly at it. This is sure to bring suc- 

 cess. It will even pierce the tough rind of 

 swinus gamas. 



Ed. L. Lindsley. 



AND THIS ONE ALSO. 



Chicago, 111. 



Editor Recreation: I have read the 

 communication from a Mr. Webber who 

 says he is a Deputy Collector of United 

 States Customs, at Vancouver, B. C, but 

 after reading his letter one wonders how he 

 became so. In this letter he not only at- 

 tacks the editor of Recreation, but all 

 sportsmen whom he calls Eastern " dudes " 

 and " pea-shooters." While his country 

 may be full of game it is too far removed 

 from most of us to worry over the fact that 

 he is such a mighty hunter. If he will kindly 

 continue to roam West of the Rocky moun- 

 tains all his life, we shall be much obliged. 



Mr. Webber reveals several things. Be- 

 fore he has fairly gotten under-way he ex- 

 hibits his intelligence and how nicely he 

 can keep his temper under control, even in 

 small matters. 



I would suggest that if the reading of 



Recreation makes him feel so weary, he 

 discontinue it. From his whole letter I im- 

 agine he borrows the copies he reads. 



If the game laws out in his part of the 

 country are as good as the game wardens, 

 they must be beauties. I presume Mr. Web- 

 ber has never been East, nor visited any 

 large city, for he seems to think a city man 

 cannot by any possibility become a hunter 

 or a sportsman. I can see his " finish " 

 should he ever drop into one of our large 

 towns. We have all kinds of game here, 

 from the common " shell," up to the gold 

 brick and explosions. In any one of these 

 he would be a shining mark. I am glad to 

 hear he has resolved to kill all the game he 

 can, just to spite us, and am sorry we cannot 

 all go out there and see him do it. He must 

 be very popular where he lives or else his 

 friends, to whom he is so kind, usually pay 

 him for whatever he gives them. 



Mr. Webber says that when he goes out 

 for a hunt he goes to kill. In the early days, 

 before they were killed off, the Apache and 

 the Blackfoot Indian used to go out for the 

 same purpose; but they had the advantage 

 of Mr. Webber. If they failed to find the 

 brute game, they could hunt white men. 

 They had the same love of slaughter which 

 Mr. W. boasts of. 



I have been West. Have traveled in vesti- 

 bule sleepers and on bronchos; have slept 

 in modern hotels and adobe dugouts. I have 

 met all classes of Western people, from the 

 social set to the Digger Indian, and have 

 found the majority of all classes cordial and 

 companionable. The " many good, honest 

 sportsmen " in Mr. Webber's neighborhood 

 will probably resent his criticism regarding 

 their lack of grit, when they read it. 



On all my trips through the West, in the 

 States of Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska, Colo- 

 rado, Wyoming, . Idaho, Utah, Kansas and 

 Texas, I met many old stagers at the rod and 

 gun, to say nothing of the younger men, and 

 I can remember but 2 of all these who did 

 not have a reasonable limit for a day's, a 

 week's or a month's hunt. 



Still, I am an " Eastern dude " from Mr. 

 Webber's point of view, and I may be a 

 " pea-shooter," for I believe in a kill only 

 large enough to satisfy the needs of the clay 

 and of the party. I believe in leaving some 

 game for others. 



The real sportsman has a well grounded 

 idea that to kill vastly more game than he 

 can legitimately use is pot-hunting. 



E. C. Chamberlin. 



CLEANING UP THE ANTELOPE. 



Some time since it was reported that the 

 Indians from Pine Ridge agency had been 

 turned loose on the ranges and were killing 

 antelope as early as September 10th, while 

 the laws of South Dakota prohibit killing 

 them before October 1st. The report proved 

 true. At one time, at the ranch of Joe Har- 

 rington on Sulphur, there were 2 wagons 



