IN THE ARKANSAS MOUNTAINS. 



JOHN T. BAILEY. 



I had long wanted to see the Boston 

 mountains of Arkansas, as I had heard 

 the region was exceedingly wild and pic- 

 turesque. Besides, I knew there were tur- 

 keys there, a chance for a deer, and ducks 

 and squirrels galore; so about November 

 1st, Rob Dyer and I took the train for St. 

 Louis. There we boarded the 'Frisco line 

 to Eureka Springs, Arkansas, where we met 

 Tom Basset, our guide, at the depot with 

 his covered wagon and team of mules and 

 3 dogs. We started on our mountain 

 drive about 9 a. m. Our guide's dogs 

 first attracted our attention. Two were 

 hounds and one was evidently a mongrel. 

 We asked Basset what they were to be used 

 for. He replied that the hounds were good 

 turkey dogs and that the mongrel was the 

 best coon dog of the settlement, while all 

 earned a good living by rinding rabbits and 

 squirrels. After driving a few miles he sug- 

 gested that one of the bird dogs be al- 

 lowed to run along the road in order that 

 we might have quails for dinner ; so we 

 turned Don, the older dog, out, and he was 

 soon hunting vigorously. No quails were 

 found, but before long Basset told us 

 the road would soon turn at right 

 angles, and if we wished to hunt a large 

 weedy stubble which lay at our right, we 

 could do so and strike the road again on 

 the other side. We promptly climbed the 

 rail fence and it was not long before birds 

 were found. In fact the dogs found 3 

 bevies and we bagged 15 birds in less than 

 20 minutes. Not long after, one of the 

 dogs pointed from the road and we got 3 

 more but did not follow the bevy. Several 

 times one of the dogs made a staunch point 

 and we climbed out of the wagon only to 

 discover that a chipmunk in the fence was 

 the object of attention, much to Rob's dis- 

 gust. 



When noon came we rested while Basset 

 cooked us a good dinner. By nightfall we 

 had made 20 miles and Basset's dogs had 

 proved their worth by treeing 9 squirrels 

 as we went along, we taking turns at get- 

 ting out of the wagon and bagging the 

 game. Basset and Rob had a great laugh 

 at my expense over a fox squirrel which 

 the dogs treed in a short hollow snag. I 

 pushed an axe handle into the hole and 

 pounded vigorously without result, so I 

 announced that nothing was there. Basset, 

 who resented the slur on the intelligence of 

 his dogs, jumped out of the wagon and 

 found the squirrel, pounded to a jelly and 

 covered by rotton wood and dust. 



We traveled 3 days in this manner most 

 delightfully, shooting quails and squirrels 



by the roadside, and one evening bagging 

 18 mallards at a river which we reached 

 just in time for the evening flight. We 

 never tired of the scenery. Every moun- 

 tain top showed us another exquisite val- 

 ley containing fresh beauty of hill, or 

 bluff, or stream ; and to the right or left of 

 the road, or trail, little nooks, and caves, 

 and grottoes were ever and anon dis- 

 closed and myriads of mountain springs. 

 Toward evening of the third day, after fol- 

 lowing a mere trail in the forest some 

 distance, we reached the camping spot our 

 guide sought, and a finer one I have never 

 seen. From a cave near the top of the 

 mountain poured a large spring, which ran 

 down a series of ledges uuntil it reached 

 a little glen about 50 yards in diameter. In 

 this glen were beautiful trees and vines, 

 moss and ferns adorned the rocks, and 

 squirrels were barking everywhere around. 

 At that spot we spent the most delightful 

 week I ever enjoyed. 



Basset promised to find us a bunch of 

 turkeys, but we were becoming rather 

 skeptical when several days had passed 

 without a sign of the birds. One morn- 

 ing Rob and I took our dogs and went 

 Southward along a level ridge after quails, 

 while Basset and his hounds were scouring 

 a parallel ridge not far away. We found 

 nothing until noon, when both dogs came 

 to a point at once on what proved the 

 largest bunch of quails I ever saw. A hun- 

 dred birds, at least, rose and flew in every 

 direction. Rob took one dog and I the 

 other, and until 3 o'clock we had glorious 

 sport. By that time we got together and 

 agreed that we had birds enough. Those 

 mountain quails seemed larger and brighter 

 colored than the birds we had found along 

 the road and we were at a loss to under- 

 stand why they collected in such large 

 flocks. 



While we were talking about it there 

 arose a tremendous racket on the ridge op- 

 posite us. Basset was yelling like an In- 

 dian, while his dogs made the woods re- 

 sound. Soon the guide was silent, though 

 the hounds kept giving toneue. Presently 

 came the report of Basset's Winchester and 

 a yell of exultation. At this we ran down 

 the mountain and up the other ridge. When 

 we got over there Basset was standing by 

 a dead turkey. Telling us to wait there 

 for him he set off at a fast run with the 

 hounds. For the next half hour we could 

 hear the hounds trailing hither and thither 

 through the woods, and then the guide re- 

 turned alone, having: sent the dogs to camp. 

 He said he had killed the turkey while it 



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