FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



461 



a cove where a small stream came in. 

 When we poled in, there was not a sign 

 of beaver, but the mud was covered with 

 swan tracks. We went around the lake 

 to make sure, and all Jack's beaver signs 

 were of the same kind. 



Henry F. Hackett, Lakeview, Mont. 



A SLIGHT MISTAKE. 



I tumbled out at 4 o'clock one morning 

 and hurried to the house of my brother- 

 in-law, Ell. In response to my hail he 

 soon appeared, ready for the coon hunt 

 which he knew my arrival meant. With 

 gun, hatchet, lantern, and Bruce, the dog, 

 we were soon on our way to the woods. 



Bruce struck a hot trail, and soon 

 barked and treed. We found him barking 

 up an old water elm which overhung a 

 creek. The stream, owing to a recent 

 thaw, was swollen, and about 40 feet wide 

 at that point. After building a fire we 

 looked the tree over several times before 

 we saw those 2 little shining spots which 

 proved our coon was looking at our light. 

 I would have shot the animal at once had 

 I not feared it would fall in the creek and, 

 if only wounded, escape by swimming. 

 Ell said he would pull off his boots and 

 wade to the other side. Wading creeks in 

 January wasn't in my line, so I did not 

 offer any objections to his going. He 

 crossed over and tried to get the dog to 

 follow, but Bruce declined. 



Holding the lantern on my head, I fired, 

 and a splash in the water snowed that my 

 aim was true. We could see our game 

 floating downstream, and Ell again pulled 

 off his boots and waded after it. I shall 

 never forget his look of disgust as he 

 threw our prize on the bank, crying "It's 

 a darned old cat!" 



J. T. Maris, Sayre, Ohio. 



WHY HE COULD NOT KILL. 



I made preparations for a day among 

 the quails, which were quite plentiful here 

 last fall. Our company consisted of my 

 friend, J. Frank Jaqua, two others, and me. 

 Frank is a good shot, and a judge of a 

 dog. He is an enthusiastic hunter. Be- 

 ing in a hurry that day, he had some boys 

 load a lot of shells for him. As we were 

 starting, he remarked, "I'll show you fel- 

 lows how to catch quails without salt, and 

 I'm no game hog, either." 



He had a new Winchester trap gun, and 

 of course we expected to sec some phe- 

 nomenal shooting. The game was plenti- 

 ful and not wild, and our dogs worked 

 well. Frank shot at every bird that rose, 

 and as far as he could see it. But, alas! 

 he could not kill. The rest of us got near- 

 ly every one we shot at. 



He blamed his gun, then his dog, and 

 finally gave up in despair. Here we sug- 

 gested the salt scheme, but he was home- 



sick; so we all quit. On our way home 

 we saw a lone quail sitting on a fence post. 

 Frank said, "Now, if I don't get that bird 

 you may call me a game hog." He fired, 

 and away sailed the quail without a feather 

 being roughed. Then we remarked that 

 there might be something wrong with his 

 cartridges. Investigating, he found that 

 the boys had loaded his shells with pop- 

 corn. 

 He was no game hog. 



Max, Humboldt, Iowa. 



THE VIRGINIA SPORT IN OHIO. 

 We had a delightful fox chase here re- 

 cently. 



This was the third chase given in this 

 county this fall, and the first chase in 

 which we were successful in capturing the 

 game. The day was an ideal one for the 

 royal sport, and tit was enjoyed to the full. 



Long before the time for meeting, could 

 be heard the horn and shell. 



The line enclosed about 9 square miles, 

 the center being Means' wood. At 11 a. m. 

 the lines had converged to the woods, and 

 there we could see the sly fellows seeking 

 unavailably to break the enclosure. At a 

 given signal the hounds were let loose and 

 the sport began. 



The dogs caught one fox, and another 

 was chased into a hollow log and cap- 

 tured. Then there was a race for the 

 open field, where a ring was quickly 

 formed and the fox was turned loose. The 

 dogs were also loose, but the sport did not 

 last long. After 2 or 3 circuits of the ring 

 the fox broke through, and would have es- 

 caped had he not been shot. After lunch 

 the drag was given, which was enjoyed by 

 all. The victims were both red foxes. 

 Some said they had seen a gray fox, and 

 others a black one. 



Silas Darling, Lima, Ohio. 



TRAINING DOGS TO TREE. 



In October Recreation R. T. Bartlett 

 asks how to train a dog to tree and 

 stay at his stand. I have been a trainer 

 for years and have taught many dogs to 

 tree squirrels. If a dog takes an interest 

 in his work he will remain at the tree. I 

 have had dogs that would tree, bark and 

 then go on hunting. In such cases I call 

 the dog to me, tell him to hunt, and watch 

 him closely. If he wanders too far away I 

 call him back. Usually he will soon locate 

 his game again and indicate that he has 

 treed. Then I sit down a while and watch 

 the dog, calling him back if he attempts to 

 leave his post. I walk around the tree, 

 locate the game, and try to make the dog 

 see it. Having waited a reasonable length 

 of time I kill the game and allow the dog 

 to smell and mouth it. A few such lessons 

 are sufficient. 



By working a young dog in company 



