FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



The man who quits when he gets enough, with plenty of game still in sight, is a real sportsman. 



A NEW HUNTING GROUND. 



During the last 6 years I have been liv- 

 ing in a country which abounds in game 

 and possesses so many natural advantages 

 as a game country that it is destined to be 

 the greatest shooting ground on the conti- 

 nent. During the years spent here I have 

 participated in many a hunt, the history of 

 which would fill my fellow sportsmen with 

 that malady which compels a man to take 

 to the forest with his gun. 



I have had something of a monopoly of 

 this hunting ground. About 3 years ago, 

 while on a prospecting trip, I found a 

 tract of land shut off from the rest of 

 the upper peninsula by an almost endless 

 swamp, known as Munoskong bay, and 

 having a number of high ridges running 

 well out into the lake.. On examination I 

 found all the country swarming with deer 

 and small game, and to my knowledge, 

 there had never been another party hunt- 

 ing on the grounds. The bays were alive 

 with ducks. I decided to establish a sort 

 of reservation there, and the following 

 season I planted the bays with wild rice. 

 Last fall there were hundreds of acres of 

 rice, and mallards came there in thousands. 



I was late last year in getting to the 

 grounds. I found my guide already there 

 and eager for the hunt. Next morning 

 we arose by daylight and decided to hunt 

 together, one to do the driving and the 

 other to watch the runway, which was a 

 well beaten path. Before going far, I se- 

 lected a point on which to wait and started 

 the guide on his course. I had not been 

 waiting more than half an hour when I 

 heard a twig crack, and looking down the 

 runway I saw a large doe coming straight 

 toward me. I incautiously raised my rifle 

 too hurriedly.. She bounded from the run- 

 way and stopped squarely behind a large 

 pine stump, leaving exposed only the top 

 of her spinal column. I fancied I could 

 kill her and took careful air at her spine. 

 When I pulled the trigger, the doe leaped 

 into the air, and with one bound was in 

 thick timber, causing me to lose a second 

 chance. She had not gone more than 10 

 rods before I heard the crack of my guide's 

 •30-30 and going over to help him I found 

 he had taken only a chance snap shot at 

 my doe, as she was going 40 miles an hour 

 through the bush. On going back to where 

 I had shot, we found a few drops of blood, 

 and decided to follow the doe, but after 

 trareling about 2 miles, we gave Up the 

 chase. 



We then went along the river bank a 



short distance and came on the fresh tracks 

 of a large buck, which had swum the river. 

 I went around to cut off his advance on a 

 runway crossing, and left the guide to 

 follow the runway. I waited a short time 

 and along came the buck, on the bound. 

 I opened fire, breaking a front leg at the 

 first shot. He seemed to go faster than 

 ever. I fired a second time and on going 

 to where he had been standing, I found a 

 large piece of bone. He went straight 

 ahead. I followed him 2 miles, and he 

 again crossed the river. As it was too 

 deep for me to cross, I had to go a mile 

 up stream to get my boat. On getting 

 around to where he had crossed, I jumped 

 him within 40 feet of the river bank and 

 killed him with a 38-55, through the head. 

 I was somewhat surprised to find on ex- 

 amining him that my second shot had 

 cut the bone of the other fore leg, nearly 

 in the middle. The bullet had carried 

 away a piece, of the bone. The deer had 

 run 2 miles with only half of the bone of 

 one fore leg, the other being completely 

 broken. He was a magnificent fellow, and 

 his hide and horns now adorn my study. 

 This was only one of the many adventures 

 of our hunt, which lasted several days. 



Next season, I shall spend my holiday 

 there and should be more than pleased to 

 have the company of a few good compan- 

 ions. My camp is commodious and is free 

 to friends. The ground is so located that a 

 number of sportsmen can be placed to ad- 

 vantage ; and any who would care to visit 

 a country where hunters have not de- 

 snoiled the game may go with me and en- 

 joy a glorious hunt. Of course the ac- 

 commodations are limited, but I like the 

 society of true sportsmen, and will gladly 

 share with a few good men, not of the 

 game hog family. 



J. A. Cameron, M. D., Pickford, Mich. 



HOW TO MAKE A BEAR TRAP 



COL. W. H. ROOT. 



Many people suppose that hunting bears 

 is dangerous work, but as a matter of fact 

 it is the safest of all pastimes. Of course, 

 amateur hunters who do not understand 

 the nature of the beast sometimes attack a 

 bear at close quarters and get the worst of 

 the fight, but the professional hunter works 

 in a different manner. All professional 

 bear hunters use traps. The bear is first 

 caught in a trap and then killed. The bear 

 is a stupid, cowardly animal, and if given 

 an opportunity it invariably runs from a 



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