THE REFERENDUM 



28 F 



a brass charger. Around my waist was a 

 belt with a brace of pistols, a dirk, two side 

 cases for pistol iballs, a case for moulds and 

 screw. Also around the waist was buckled 

 an Indian apron, which fell behind; it was 

 about eighteen inches square, covered with 

 fine bearskin and trimmed with fur and 

 having over the lower part of it a net for 

 game. This apron contained a pocket com- 

 pass, maps, journal, shaving materials, a 

 small hatchet, patent fire works ; my cap and 

 gloves were made of fur, my moccasins were 

 of deerskin, and on my shoulder I carried a 

 six-foot rifle. The partners of my toil and 

 danger were two faithful dogs." 



Evans, on his pedestrian tour, was met 

 with jeers and ridicule simply because 'he 

 had the common sense to wear clothes suited 

 to the climate and the conditions of the 

 weather. And even Ruben Gold Thwaite, 

 the historian, looks with amusement upon 

 Evans' costume, but the outdoor men read- 

 ers of Recreation magazine will all appre- 

 ciate the fact that Evans was not a freak but 

 knew what he was about when he traveled 

 through the northern wilderness in midwin- 

 ter and dressed as a sensible man should 

 who must sleep out of doors in the snow by 

 night and fight the blizzards by day, which, 

 thanks to his foresight, he did with success. 

 Of course, if Evans had lived to-day he 

 would have waited until summer time, then 

 taken a motor boat and gone by water. 



THE ARCTIC OWL. 



Editor Recreation : 



In Recreation for January you mention 

 the fact of the unusual flight of Arctic owls 

 along the Atlantic coast. The same thing 

 extends as far west as Illinois, at least, and 

 this winter a large number have been cap- 

 tured near Chicago. The afternoon of Janu- 

 ary 12, while playing golf, I saw an Arctic 

 owl flying south, and this was well with- 

 in the city limits, on the golf links of Jack- 

 son Park, Chicago. 



C. L. Dewey, Frield Col, Mo. 



CROOKED-LEG DICK. 



BY I. NEWTON GREENE. 



As I look back upon that field-trial it was 

 by far the proudest day of my life. I am a 

 Llewellin setter, three years old. I was one 

 of a litter of eight puppies — five brothers and 

 three sisters — all perfect specimens of blooded 

 parents, all but myself. In some way and 

 for some unaccountable reason Nature 

 brought me into this world with a crooked 

 foreleg; otherwise I was as likely a dog as 

 ever scampered about a kennel, or worried 

 unappreciative neighbor folk with my sharp 

 puppy voice. The full realization of my phys- 

 ical imperfection was thrust home upon me 

 very early in life. My master — a splendid 

 fellow, and all wrapped up in his kennels — 



exhibited us one day to several prospective 

 purchasers who went daft over my brothers 

 and sister, checking off their points of ex- 

 cellence without finding a single blemish 

 which might score to the discredit of our 

 brilliant parents. I was the last to come up 

 for inspection, and noticed, though with a 

 feeling of incomprehension, that my good 

 master's brows were drawn together in a 

 manner I had never before seen them as he 

 lifted me to the top of a high box, where my 

 brothers and sisters were shown. 



"Pretty likely pup," remarked one of the 

 sportsmen ; "he's well marked." 



"Well marked, yes," replied his friend, who 

 had 'been looking me over critically, "but as 

 a field dog his usefulness stops right there. 

 He has a crooked left foreleg which puts 

 him out of the running." 



They said other things about me — mostly 

 complimentary, I believe — but all I heard 

 ringing in my ears was : "As a field dog his 

 usefulness stops right there. He has a crooked 

 left foreleg, which puts him out of the run- 

 ning." I looked down, and a wave of shame 

 swept over me as I noticed for the first time 

 that the leg in question lacked the symmetry 

 so pronounced in my brothers and sisters. As 

 my master gently lifted me to the ground I 

 heard him sigh, and, as they walked away, 

 one of his friends said: 



"Too bad, and a dog puppy at that. If it 

 had been one of his sisters it wouldn't have 

 mattered so much." 



I stuck my tail between my hind legs and 

 slunk away, ashamed, to a far corner of the 

 kennels. As I now recall that unhappy day 

 I think I went to bed without eating any 

 supper. There was a big lump in my throat 

 which would not let me swallow. 



The next month formed an eventful period 

 in our kennels. Every few days some man 

 came to see my master, and, after placing 

 something that jingled in his hand, would 

 walk away with one of my brothers or sis- 

 ters. At last they were all gone but me, and 

 I was desperately lonesome for a while; but 

 I could fathom the reason, even in my puppy 

 mind, why I remained, for there was no for- 

 getting those fateful words about my de- 

 formity. I entertained a feeling that I owed 

 my master a great deal for the shame I 

 brought him, and the fact that he lost con- 

 siderable money because he couldn't sell me, 

 so I did everything in my power to please 

 him. I soon learned to retrieve his slippers 

 every night, to go abroad with him and walk 

 sedately at heel, paying not the slightest at- 

 tention to other dogs, who endeavored to 

 coax me away. I also loved to hang 'round 

 the gun room when my master cleaned his 

 Greener. And maybe you don't think I was 

 supremely happy one day when he stopped 

 with a wiping-rod jammed half way into a 

 gun barrel and said more to himself than to 

 me : 



