FROM THE GAME FIELDS 



469 



his reception at the hands of the irate 

 bather, scampered into the willows with the 

 duck. Billy raved — he threatened to shoot 

 the dog at sight, and incidentally take a shot 

 at the grinning " stake-holder " on the op- 

 posite shore, but fortunately for me he had 

 forgotten to take his weapon with him. 

 Billy returned, Sport reappeared, the duck 

 had disappeared. 



I interrupted the next movement or 

 Sport would have ended the day in the 

 happy hunting Grounds. 



G. F. Gebhardt. 



NEAR NATURE'S HEART. 



Longmont. 



Editor Recreation: I journeyed recent- 

 ly through both the great parks of Colo- 

 rado, North and Middle, and over 4 ranges 

 of mountains into Routt county. Here one 

 can still find a spot of earth in all its un- 

 touched perfection. 



We drove through a wild canyon until we 

 reached a place seemingly unvisited before 

 by man. Just as we were unhitching, a big 

 buck jumped up, not 30 yards from us, and 

 stood looking with uplifted head. Our guns 

 were packed, and before we could get one 

 loaded the buck jumped into the thick 

 brush. I was glad to see him get away, for 

 he made a superb picture. 



I unhitched our team and turned them 

 loose, as I had done at all our previous 

 camping places. They immediately snorted 

 with fear and broke into a run. I followed 

 them to where an old fellow kept a small 

 ranch. He helped me catch them, and told 

 me he had never been able to keep a hoof 

 of stock in that locality; although the grass 

 there was 3 feet high and finer than else- 

 where. We camped there one week and I 

 had to keep the horses tied all the while. 



We had an ideal camping place; such 

 spots are growing rare. Game of all kinds 

 abounded, especially sage hens and grouse. 

 We could hunt to our heart's content, and 

 always with the half delightful fear of run- 

 ning on to a bear or a lion. The lions are 

 especially numerous. I regret to mention 

 the deer, for they will be soon enough ex- 

 terminated. I think I saw 1,000 and believe I 

 could have killed 100 with a good pistol. 

 I walked by them in the quaking asp and 

 frequently got within 15 feet of them. To kill 

 one would have been murder. I used to 

 pride myself on my shooting, but during 

 this trip all I killed was one badger. 



I took the honors, though, in trout fish- 

 ing, and as in our party was a young fellow 

 who had the hunter's instinct strongly de- 

 veloped, our table was > well supplied at all 

 times with grouse, venison, trout and gray- 

 ling. 



On our return over the Park range, we 

 saw a bear, but he got away from us in the 

 dense woods. The trip was most interest- 

 ing, and when I came to the fences and beat- 



en tracks of civilization it was with a pang 

 of regret. 



While I do not shoot with as much eager- 

 ness as of old, I take an increasing pleasure 

 in getting away from the stuffy towns to 

 where the untrodden grass grows and vast, 

 lone mountains rise. 



A. C. Sigley. 



A CUTE BEAR. 



Virginia, Minn. 



Editor Recreation: The common black 

 bear that inhabits the Northwestern states 

 is not accredited with much " horse sense." 

 He is a simple-minded beast and perfectly 

 harmless. Last fall, however, I had an ex- 

 perience that considerably raised this species 

 in my estimation. I had a hunting camp on 

 West Two river, where, with my 8 year old 

 son Mark and " Uncle Jimmie " Wilson, I 

 put in a part of the hunting season. On No- 

 vember 5th I killed a young bull moose, 

 about 2 miles up the river from camp. The 

 next day I chanced that way in my canoe 

 and saw unmistakable signs of bear. 



I reported to " Uncle Jimmie " who went 

 down the river and got a big No. 6 bear 

 trap he had set there and together we took 

 it up to where we had killed the moose. 

 We built a pen 4x6 feet, of green tamarack 

 logs, staked and spiked it and put a roof on 

 it, leaving one end open. In the opposite 

 end we securely crated the moose head, the 

 feet, and some of the entrails. Then we at- 

 tached the trap chain to a detached log and 

 set the trap, completely covered, just inside 

 the pen. 



The next morning we visited the trap and 

 found the bear had been there. The trap was 

 sprung but there was no bear in it. Bruin 

 had ignored the door we left for him, had 

 lifted the roof off and gone in over the top. 

 How he managed to spring the trap without 

 getting his toes pinched I cannot quite un- 

 derstand. 



We repaired the roof of the pen and added 

 to its strength by felling several tamarack 

 trees across it. Then we set the trap again 

 and covered it as before. 



On our arrival next morning we found 

 the trap sprung and lying fully 20 feet from 

 the pen. The whole rear end of the pen was 

 torn out. 



We still had hopes of trapping the big fel- 

 low and cheerfully repaired the damage he 

 had done. We again set the trap and used 

 every precaution to remove everything that 

 might look suspicious to the bear, for by 

 this time we had come to know we were 

 dealing with a genius. 



When we arrived the next morning the 

 trap was sprung but no damage had been 

 done to the pen. We reset the trap, but the 

 bear, having feasted to his liking and having 

 had a lot of fun with us, did not come back 

 again, so we had no bear meat in camp that 

 season 



