XXIV 



RECREATION. 



HUNTING IN THE PHILIPPINES. 



J. E. TARBELL. 



While I was spending a short vacation 

 with another American teacher at his sta- 

 tion in one of the far interior towns of 

 Northern Luzon, we were invited by the 

 chief of a Tinguiane village to take part 

 in a grand hunt after deer and wild boar. 

 This was an opportunity for sport which 

 we could not miss, for the Tinguianes are 

 reputed famous hunters. They would at 

 least show us where the game was, and we 

 should probably have an opportunity to do 

 some shooting. 



Early next morning we ordered our 

 horses saddled and set out for the residence 

 of the friendly chief. When we arrived the 

 hunting party was being organized. Mean- 

 while the village was clamorous with the 

 shouting of men and howling of dogs. Half- 

 naked savage hunters came in from little 

 barrios in the surrounding forest. Besides 

 us, the party consisted of the chief and 

 about 20 of his followers, with 5 or 6 dogs. 

 All the natives were armed with spears, and 

 some also had nets to stretch across the 

 runways. 



To see such an expedition start might 

 give one the impression that it would be a 

 sorry day for the game, but although deer 

 and wild boar are abundant, the Tinguianes 

 seldom get more than 2 or 3 during a day's 

 chase. That appears to satisfy them, for it 

 furnishes a feast and a merry time. 



We followed a winding trail through a 

 magnificent forest. From the branches of 

 huge moss-covered trees great vines hung 

 in beautiful festoons. The air was filled 

 with the songs and cries of many strange 

 birds. In one piace a troop of monkeys set 

 up a chatter at sight of our company. Pres- 

 ently we began to ascend a mountain, and, 

 after considerable climbing, emerged on a 

 gently sloping section of open country. It 

 was a mile or so across, and much cut up 

 by ravines. Our horses were unsaddled and 

 turned out to graze, and the hunt began. 



Except the chief, the natives scattered to 

 set their nets and start the game, while my 

 friend and I were directed to positions 

 where we could watch for it to appear. 

 Dense forest bordered the other side of. the 

 opening, and from it the natives expected 

 to drive the objects of our hunt. 



My position, concealed by brush, was 

 within easy range of my friend's rifle. 

 Fearing he might fire in my direction, I 

 moved on about 100 rods around a little 

 rocky hill, and, as I afterward discovered, 

 out of the line of chase. I waited long, 

 occasionally hearing shouts and the barkins 

 of dogs, but no game came in sight. I 

 heard a fusillade from my friend's old a*> 

 and wondered if he had opened on a whole 

 herd, or was merely suffering from buck 

 fever. It proved the latter, and all caused 

 by a doe springing suddenly from an unex- 

 pected quarter; but by the time my friend 

 reached his last cartridge he steadied down 

 and got the deer. 



Finally the noise of the chase died away 



and as no game appeared, I started out to 

 explore the mountain. I had gone but a 

 little way when I heard a crackling of 

 brush, and from a clump of thick woods, 

 about 150 yards away, a big buck dashed 

 out at full speed and made for a canyon 

 some distance below. He bounded along 

 with head thrown back, and the sieht was 

 almost too much for my nerve. I managed 

 to send a shot after him just as he ran 

 behind some rocks. In a moment he came 

 in view again, and I handed him a 30-40 

 Winchester bullet that caught him about 5 

 inches back of the shoulder. Although he 

 was running down hill, he fell dead before 

 he could go 10 yards farther. 



After bleeding him, I returned to where 

 we had left the horses. There I found my 

 friend and the native hunters gathered. 

 Two men were sent after my prize. The 

 natives reported having seen several deer 

 pass their nets, but none were taken. How- 

 ever, they did get a big boar. 



That evening the natives of the village, 

 gathered around a big fire, made merry with 

 feasting, singing, and dancing until far into 

 the night. 



I hand you herewith clipping from a 

 local newspaper regarding the automatic 

 gun. The editor speaks of the wholesale 

 slaughter of birds that will happen when 

 sportsmen are armed with this make of 

 gun. No sportsman will ever use one of 

 these. The man who does should spell his 

 name H-o-g. 



J. H. Klock, Phoenix, N. Y. 



KILL THE AUTOMATIC. 



The automatic shot gun that has just appeared 

 on the market is an agency of destruction of so 

 terrible a kind that if it were generally employed 

 in the hunting of game birds their complete ex- 

 termination would be a matter of a brief 

 period. It is as. shocking to the sensibilities of the 

 genuine sportsman as to every other lover of Na- 

 ture that the vandalism of the pot hunter and 

 the game hog should be thus encouraged and made 

 10 fold potential through such diabolism of me- 

 chanical ingenuity. Therefore, it is imperative that 

 all who delight in the wild life of fields and 

 woods should stand shoulder to shoulder in the 

 fight against this weapon of the game vandal, 

 which to the world of sports stands in the same 

 relation as the Gatling and still more rapid firing 

 guns to that of war. 



President Shields, of the League of American 

 Sportsmen, is especially wide awake to the im- 

 portance of the laws in every State prohibiting the 

 use of repeating shot guns in the hunting of birds 

 and animals, and to this end has forwarded copies 

 of a bill for introduction in their respective Legis- 

 latures to all the chief wardens of this large and 

 powerful organization throughout the country. 



There is special need of such legislation in 

 Pennsylvania as that indicated above. In many 

 sections of this State there is great inclination to 

 game, and the rigors of the past winter have 

 greatly depleted the stocks of game birds and 

 fishes — Erie (Pa.) Dispatch. 



A young maid of old Terre Haute 

 Found herself in a duce of a baute. 

 The husband she'd bought 

 Wrote the name "Terry Hawt" 

 So she speedily set him aflaute. 



— Cincinnati Commercial Tribune. 



