FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



199 



deal farther than was comfortable. Finally 

 I killed him with a club. I have shot many 

 of these small animals, as they are quite 

 plentiful in the lakes about here, but had 

 never learned before how hard a fight one 

 would make for his life, if given a chance. 

 B. E. Ross, Albert Lea, Minn. 



WHY DO RUFFED GROUSE DIE YOUNG? 



Atkinson, N. H. 



Editor Recreation: This is the game 

 bird of New Hampshire and the keenest in 

 all respects that I ever held a gun over. 

 Thinking that some of the many readers of 

 your magazine might give me some infor- 

 mation, I will ask this question: Why of 

 late years do so many young of this species 

 die before getting their growth? Perhaps 

 you have not noticed this, but it is a fact 

 nevertheless, for I have hunted this bird 

 in Rockingham County more or less for 

 40 years. Those that have hunted much, 

 will know that 25 years ago if an old bird 

 hatched 10, 12 or 15 young, they could 

 count on about that number in the fall. 

 To-day they hatch just the same (it is sel- 

 dom one misses) and the birds seem to be 

 all right until they get to be the size of quail 

 or a little larger. Then they begin to die 

 off and by the last of September you will 

 find 3 to 5 in a brood where there used to 

 be 10 or 15. This may look like a wild 

 statement, but I think I know what I am 

 talking about. I cannot say whether it is the 

 same all over the state, but it is so far as 

 my experience goes. Some will say there 

 are more gunners and the birds are shot off 

 before the season opens. No doubt there 

 are some game hogs in this state, but they 

 do not kill one, where 6 die from some 

 other cause. Others say the foxes destroy 

 them but there are not as many foxes as 25 

 years ago. Again it will be laid to the 

 skunk, weasel, mink, cats, snakes, etc., but 

 we had these creatures 25 years ago just the 

 same as now, so this argument does not 

 answer, and the fact remains, that they 

 hatch out and die young. Three years ago 

 there was a brood of 12 just back of my 

 buildings. I saw them a great many times 

 in the early part of the season but they 

 grew less and less and by the first of Oc- 

 tober there were but 3 left, and not a gun- 

 ner had been near them. 



Twenty-five or 30 years ago the farmers 

 raised large flocks of turkeys and there was 

 no trouble in making them live and do well, 

 but now if you see one in a man's yard you 

 stop and wonder where he got it. The 

 turkey and the grouse failed about the same 

 time the potato bug made its appearance. 

 'Has the one anything to do with the other? 

 If any one has given the subject any 

 thought will he please express his ideas 

 through Recreation? 



We are told that "foxes have holes and 

 birds of the air nests," and unless we have 

 better shooting for the rest of the season 



than we have thus far, the foxes will be able 

 to live in the same holes another year. 

 G. P. 



ANOTHER DOG-BEAR YARN. 



The story, in Recreation, of the dog 

 playing bear called to mind an incident in 

 the early 70's. I had a friend, a nominee 

 for County Treasurer, and accompanied 

 him on a tour of the county. We made the 

 trip without any remarkable incident until 

 the last day out. 



We started early and were driving along 

 a dugway on the side hill. Below us was 

 a patch of corn. We both exclaimed at 

 once, " See that bear! " The animal stood 

 up by a shock of corn and tore down the 

 ears, then disappeared in the high weeds. 

 I stopped my team, handed Aaron the lines, 

 took off my overcoat, to be prepared for a 

 run or a fight, seized my gun and started 

 for the bear. 



Aaron exclaimed, " What are you going 

 to do?" 



" Shoot the bear, of course." 



He said, " You can't. Your gun is loaded 

 with quail shot." 



" Well," I said, " I can tickle him, any- 

 way." Creeping carefully through the 

 frosty weeds, I got within 15 yards of the 

 beast. 



I stopped to look and listen. I could see 

 him eating the corn and hear his terrible 

 teeth crunch it. " Now," I thought, " if I 

 should fail in killing him and he should at- 

 tempt to crunch me as he does the corn, 

 what should I do? Couldn't I beat him 

 over the head with my gun? If worse 

 came to worst, couldn't I run?" I had a 

 good pair of legs which had never failed me. 



I cocked both barrels and took careful 

 aim at his heart. I discharged them both 

 simultaneously and the brute sprang about 

 4 feet in the air, with a " ki yi," and fell 

 dead. I had bored a hole into him about 

 the size of my fist. I looked toward Aaron 

 in the wagon. He had his whip raised to 

 get away. I yelled, " Hold on, I have cut 

 a dog in 2 this time. Wait until I walk up 

 to the Captain's office and settle." 



Old Jim Wayne, who lived but a short 

 distance away, came toward me, swearing 

 blue. I met him and told him to keep his 

 shirt on, as accidents occur in the best of 

 families, and offered him a $5 bill. 



" No, you don't," he said. " I wouldn't 

 have taken $25 for him. Dogs have just riz 

 in market." I settled for $10. 



Conclusions arrived at: 



All animals that are black are not bears. 



All animals that have short ears and tails 

 are not bears. 



All animals that eat dry corn are not 

 bears. 



If you wish to buy a dog, make your bar- 

 gain before you kill him. You can get him 

 just as cheap. 



Horace Beach, Prairie du Chien, Wis. 



