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RECREA TIOX. 



the Doctor, 2 other parties and I, went into 

 camp at the head of Box canyon. 



The Doctor, like most city folks, thinks 

 the more a man travels the better his 

 chance for getting a deer, which, according 

 to my experience, is the poorest way to get 

 game. 



On the morning of the 16th we started up 

 the mountain before light. About a mile 

 from camp we came to an open burn with 

 scattering timber in places that gave us a 

 view of a long tract of country. 



After considerable talk I persuaded the 

 Doctor to sit down and watch, for I 

 knew the deer were feeding on the tender 

 weeds and small brush that had grown 

 since the last year's fire. We took position 

 on the edge of a bluff of rock and I tried 

 to entertain the Doctor to keep him quiet. 

 We sat there about half an hour and I knew 

 he thought that what I didn't know about 

 hunting deer would make a big book. 



Presently I saw 2 does come over a lit- 

 tle ridge not over 100 yards distant. They 

 were feeding toward us. Before the Doctor 

 could see them they were out of sight in 

 a small ravine. But they soon reappeared, 

 within 60 yards. 



I told Doctor to shoot. He knocked 

 one down with one shot but the other, 

 though hard hit, managed to get off in the 

 thick brush. 



At the report of his gun I heard some- 

 thing go " thump, thump, thump," to our 

 left. We both looked in that direction and 

 saw a monstrous blacktail buck bounding 

 up the steep mountain. Doctor shot at him 

 on the run but missed. 



The buck ran about 75 yards then stopped 

 broadside to see what he was scared at. 

 The Doctor put a ball well up toward the 

 spinal column. The buck came rolling 

 down the mountain, and when we got over 

 to him he was dead. 



He was a beauty; a 15 pointer. I then 

 told Doctor he had better find the wounded 

 doe while I dressed the 2 he had killed. 

 Soon I heard the Doctor shoot again, but 

 instead of getting the wounded one, he had 

 killed another. We called the other men 

 to us and looked several hours for the 

 wounded deer, but did not find it. The 

 Doctor was so rattled by that time that he 

 had lost the last one killed and we had to 

 find it for him. 



I insisted there was meat enough for 4 

 men. After working hard all the rest of 

 that day and most of the next, we had all 

 our meat in camp. We stayed 2 more 

 nights but did not try to kill any more deer. 

 We caught all the trout we wanted and 

 took plenty home. 



John B. Renshaw, Usk, Wash. 



ANOTHER GREAT DOG. 



Chicago, 111. 

 Editor Recreation : The little anony- 

 mous story in the January Recreation, en- 



titled " The Bird Dog " depicts in a cleverly 

 amusing manner the idiosyncrasies of the 

 average poorly broken hunting dog. But 

 often the best trained animals will manifest 

 a spirit of contumacy and act as if possessed 

 by the Evil One, and that too at the most 

 inopportune moment. 



Here is an instance: Billy Moore, of the 

 Salt Lake Daily Tribune, was an ardent 

 sportsman and a lover of dogs. He prided 

 himself on his ability to discern a well bred 

 dog at a glance. As a rule he showed good 

 judgment. 



One evening he was followed home by 

 a fine looking setter which manifested great 

 affection for him. As Billy had contem- 

 plated an outing with me for the following 

 morning, he enticed the dog into his board- 

 ing house and gave him an examination in 

 field tactics. The dog proved a wonder. 

 He obeyed with the alacrity and precision 

 of a prize winner. Billy was happy. 



The appointed morning we set out for the 

 Jordan river and the neighboring sloughs 

 where we anticipated a morning with the 

 ducks and an afternoon with the jacks. 

 Sport behaved admirably and Billy became 

 surprisingly eulogistic extolling the dog's 

 fine points to the stars, and incidentally re- 

 ferring to himself as knowing a thing or 2 

 about dogs. The morning was quite cold 

 and a thin coating of ice had formed along 

 the edge of the river's banks. As we neared 

 the first bend in the river we bent low and 

 sneaked along the banks ready -for any duck 

 that we might " jump." Sport followed in 

 our wake, crouching low, intense excite- 

 ment depicted in every muscle. Billy looked 

 pleased. Suddenly a pair of redheads swept 

 by, flying low over the water. At the crack 

 of Billy's little Ithaca one of them fell. 



Sport awaited Billy's command before 

 leaping after the rapidly drifting bird, then 

 swam to the duck (Billy chuckled) gently 

 took it by the wing (Billy became enthusi- 

 astic) and carried it across to — the other 

 shore. (Billy swore.) However, he at- 

 tempted an explanation of this manceuver by 

 saying that the water was cold and that the 

 dog was tired, and consequently chose the 

 nearest shore and would return as soon as 

 he had rested. But Sport did not move. 

 Commands, pleadings, threats failed to af- 

 fect him. He simply wagged his tail and 

 grinned. The red head was one of the larg- 

 est specimens of its kind we had ever seen, 

 and Billy determined to gain possession 

 of it at all hazards. At length the dog at- 

 tempted to return without the duck but was 

 greeted with a fusilade of clubs and clods 

 and, failing to run the gauntlet, returned to 

 the opposite shore and maintained his vigi- 

 lance by the side of the bird. 



Billy stripped. He said he would swim 

 across and get the duck despite the in- 

 clemency of the weather. A few strokes 

 brought him to the opposite shore, for the 

 river was narrow, but Sport, anticipating 



