FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



363 



kill when a vital spot is hit, but the small 

 bore smokeless wound more than kill. 



I have used a telescope on my gun sev- 

 eral seasons, and would not be without one. 

 Sam Stevens, Cripple Creek, Colo. 



KILLED TOO MANY TURKEYS. 

 I have been a reader and an ardent ad- 

 mirer of Recreation for some time, and am 

 particularly pleased with the way you go 

 after the game and fish hogs of the elm- 

 peeling, razorback variety. I was much in- 

 terested in an article in your February 

 number contributed by John F. Bailey, en- 

 titled "In the Arkansas Mountains." The 

 writer describes that evidently interesting 

 and beautiful bit of country with much 

 skill and in a way that makes us, of this 

 Northern climate, at the closing of winter, 

 long for warm, sunshiny days, our guns and 

 fishing rods, with the open fields, woods, 

 streams and lakes before us; but in reading 

 the article I wonder if it impresses others as 

 it does me that Mr. Bailey almost, if not 

 quite, convicts himself and his friend of 

 the crime of razorbackness, the most hein- 

 ous known to true sportsmen. I may pass 

 without comment the first day out wherein 

 15 quails were killed within 20 minutes and 

 18 quails and 9 squirrels were the result of 

 one day's travel, when the writer and his 

 friend were not really hunting; but cer- 

 tainly a real sportsman will stop to con- 

 sider the justice of 2 hunters killing 5 wild 

 turkeys in one day, not to mention the tur- 

 key killed by the guide. At a time not yet 

 beyond the memory of many of your readers 

 this largest and noblest of American game 

 birds was common over a large area of the 

 Central Western, Western and Southwest- 

 ern States; but his peculiar habits, enor- 

 mous size, and awkwardness on wing and 

 foot, made him an easy prey to the white 

 and red biped variety of hogs, until he is 

 now rarely to be found. The fate of the 

 buffalo is his ; and if the government does 

 not soon do something to protect his spe- 

 cies, he will be classed with the dodo and 

 other extinct species of forgotten ages. 

 So scarce has he already become that he is 

 seldom found outside the fastness of un- 

 frequented mountains and forests of the 

 Southwest ; and when these remote retreats 

 are located and invaded by the ruthless 

 hunter, the turkey's days are numbered. 

 As clearly shown by Mr. Bailey's article, 

 when once located a bunch of wild tur- 

 keys is at the mercy of the experienced 

 hunter, and. will respond to call as long as 

 one of the number remains alive. Knowing 

 this fact, the method resorted to by Mr. 

 Bailey and his friend was questionable, to 

 say the least; and in this manner to bag 5 

 of these enormous birds in one day was 

 certainly swinish in the extreme. 



Warren W. Borders, Winamac, Ind. 



A SPRING TRAMP. 



Nature had thrown off its cloak of snow 

 and silence and suddenly transformed the 

 fields and roadsides into a vast stage, on 

 which song sparrows vied with robins and 

 bluebirds in producing joyful music to wel- 

 come the awakening of spring. Purple 

 grackles flew overhead in huge flocks, blue- 

 birds carolled from telegraph wires, and a 

 huge red tailed hawk swooped down on 

 an unsuspecting chipmunk which had just 

 emerged from its winter nest. 



C. and I started early for a long tramp 

 to the mountains, where we hoped to se- 

 cure some owls' nests. We followed the 

 electric car tracks a short distance, now 

 and then producing our note books 

 to record the appearance of a new arrival 

 in the bird world or to note the appear- 

 ance of an early hibernating insect ; look- 

 ing particularly for large migratory birds, 

 and for Venessa antiopia, the first out of 

 the hibernating butterflies. We reached 

 the mountain about noon and proceeded 

 to scour the surrounding thick woods. 

 Starting in different directions to make a 

 detour, we agreed to meet at a certain 

 landmark 2 miles distant. Each was to 

 to call if he found anything. 



Before long I came to a slender stump 

 about 8 feet high, in which some chicka- 

 dees, or hairy woodpeckers, had evidently 

 nested the previous year. As I passed I 

 gave it a slight push and it fell over. It 

 had no sooner touched the ground than 3 

 little flying squirrels crawled out of the 

 hole and scampered away, 2 up a tree and 

 one into a hole in the ground. I gave a 

 yell that would make an Indian turn 

 green with envy and started after them. 

 My large collie, Bruce, prevented the 

 squirrels in the tree from leaving it. When 

 C. came up we soon decided that the only 

 way to secure the little animals was for 

 one of us to climb the tree and shake them 

 off. While C. shinned up I tried to calcu- 

 late how far they could fly, but did not 

 guess right. One sailed 20 feet over my 

 head and the other went in the opposite di- 

 rection. Both landed in trees, and, run- 

 ning to the topmost branches, they 

 launched forth again. They could sail 

 about 150 feet and looked like white, 

 square pieces of cardboard. They finally 

 reached trees from which it was impossible 

 to dislodge them and we turned our steps 

 homeward. 



Bob O. Link, Glens Falls, N. Y. 



SLAUGHTER OF BIG-HORNS. 



Judge J. R. Harper's recent hunting expedition 

 to the mountains in the vicinity of Van Horn was 

 successful far beyond that eminent jurist's expec- 

 tations. 



He was accompanied by J. H. Beech, who is 

 familiar with the country frequented by the few 

 sheep still alive in Texas. 



