no 



RECREATION. 



water is so clear that the bottom can be 

 plainly seen where the water is 20 feet deep. 



After making camp, we rowed out on 

 the lake just as the sun set behind the 

 mountains, and an hour's trolling resulted 

 in a dozen trout. These made us a delicious 

 supper. Then we rolled ourselves in our 

 blankets and the rippling waves on the 

 jeach lulled us to sleep. 



The next morning, after breakfast, I 

 climbed one of the highest peaks near, and 

 after a rough scramble considered myself 

 well rewarded by the view. Northward I 

 looked out over the blue water of the straits 

 and the forest-clad mountains of Vancou- 

 ver island, with the snow-capped head of 

 Mt. Baker towering far above everything 

 in the distance. Southward the crests of 

 the Olympics were reflected in Lake 

 Crescent at, their feet, the mountains ex- 

 tending Southward, range after range, un- 

 til the farthest peaks were hazy in the dis- 

 tance. 



After another scramble over fallen timber 

 and through dense underbrush, during which 

 I saw many fresh elk tracks, I reached 

 camp again, and found that my pard had 

 secured another dozen trout for our dinner. 



Fishing with fair success, we repeated the 

 program of the night before by turning 

 in early. The next morning we rolled out 

 early and soon caught 18 trout, all we 

 wanted to carry home. These we packed in 

 moss, which kept them fresh until we 

 reached home, a little before sundown, tired 

 but happy. 



Game as well as fish is still plentiful in 

 the Olympics, as the mountains are so rough 

 that few tenderfeet can penetrate far into 

 their fastnesses and the game hog is too 

 lazy to do so. Any true sportsman who 

 wishes to add a good elk head to his col- 

 lection and is not afraid to do 'plenty of 

 tramping, can do no better than try the 

 Olympics, to which Port Angeles is the 

 best gateway. 



M. S. Brown, Port Angeles, Wash.. 



THREE DEER IN 2 DAYS. 



Three of us left Pointe Au Chene sta- 

 tion on the C. P. railroad, in September, 

 for our hunting grounds. 



After riding about 12 miles on a rough 

 mountain road, we arrived at Lake Com- 

 mondow. The rest of the day was spent 

 in making camp. 



In the evening I crossed the lake to the 

 mouth of a creek and killed a black duck, 

 which made a good supper for all of us. 



The second day after our arrival I killed 

 a small deer. 



The next day I was left alone, as Evan 

 and Dan had to go out and look after their 



farm work. I then set some traps for coons 

 and succeeded in catching 2. 



The next morning, after breakfast, I 

 started to visit my traps and was only 

 50 yards from camp, when I heard hounds 

 on the other side of the lake, and soon saw 

 a deer come down the mountain and plunge 

 into the lake. I ran to my canoe and after 

 a lively chase overtook and killed the deer, 

 which proved to be a fat doe. I had just 

 started to dress her when I heard the dogs 

 again, and to my surprise another deer, a 

 buck this time, came down the same run- 

 way and into the lake. I met him and soon 

 had him hanging up beside the doe. 



That afternoon Evan and Dan came in 

 and I decided to pull camp next day, for I 

 had my lawful number of deer. In the 

 afternoon I went to a clearing about a mile 

 from camp, to lay for a fox which we had 

 seen several times. I had watched per- 

 haps half an hour, when I saw Reynard 

 come in at the other end of the clearing. 

 After a while he came within range, the 

 old 44 found his shoulder, and his skin was 

 mine. 



Next day we returned to the Pointe, 

 where I put .in a few days shooting ducks 

 and grouse. That part of Canada is an 

 ideal place for sportsmen. The people are 

 the most accommodating I have ever met, 

 and I hope to go back there again. 



George H. Bent, East Providence, R. I. 



Don't you know it is unsportsmanlike and 

 unmanly to kill a deer in the water? This 

 cold blooded murder is prohibited by law in 

 several States and should be everywhere. — 

 Editor. 



A WYOMING ANTELOPE HUNT. 



In September, 1890, when I was 16 years 

 old, my father and I were camped on Sheep 

 creek in Albany county, Wyoming. 



September 12th being my birthday, I de- 

 termined to celebrate it by having an an- 

 telope hunt. Accordingly I arose early and 

 set out. I had but 8 cartridges for my 

 40-60 repeater. Following the creek 2 miles 

 North, I discovered a small bunch of an- 

 telope grazing in a valley. They looked so 

 big and so close together that I thought 

 a bullet could not get by without hitting 

 one, but when I fired, the whole bunch ran. 

 I fired 2 more shots in quick succession and 

 then watched the animals until they stopped 

 on a hill a mile away. 



By following a ravine I got within 500 

 yards of them and then gained another 20O 

 yards by crawling on my hands and knees. 

 Then I wriggled like a snake through the 

 scant grass and not so scant cactus until I 

 got within 150 yards of the animals, which 

 by that time were lying down. Not being 

 able to see a buck and not daring to change 



