FOREST AND STREAM. 



245 



Walking down to the pontTfi lower edge where Jack is with 



the horses, Vhek is at my heels , when to ray left is a sort of 

 rippling cmmotion among the water grasses and a 



teal dunk rises. 1J;iti«- ! he falls to the water, but not dead, 

 quick as thought ] pour the other barrel into 'him before he 

 can dive, and now he lies as lifeless as a wooden decoy, with 

 the pointer's help he is soon in the game rack of my shooting 

 coat. Joining Jack, who congratulates me on my little bit of 

 unexpected luck, I find he is willing to hunt the 'other side of 

 the pond, so I mount my horse gun in hand, and holding the 

 bridle of Jack's mare with the other, I am all eyes for the 

 held. Jack anil his pointer have almost reached the limit oj 

 huDting ground on the offside of the pond, aud my friend is 

 looking about him the picture of comic despair ; suddenly 

 Dick points about twenty feet from a muddy spot covered 

 With a few bog tofts. My companion walks up, " scaipe, 

 BCaipe," and an American snipe goes twisting up wind ; a pull 

 of smoke, a report again breaks upon the stillness of the soft 

 Bprmg air, and ScoTapam makes his Inst dive to the ground. 



Again we are both in the saddle riding through one of the 

 sand rivers which intersect many of our Southern woods. The 

 aroma of the pines is wafted to our nostrils by the wind which 

 is a trifle cool perhaps, for a Southern early- April. Now the 

 ground commences to rise, now getting too stony for equestri- 

 anism. We -are it the foot of the only hill of size for miles 

 around, and ou it we expect to find a few covies of quail, or 

 as they are termed "down south" partridges. Dismounting 

 and securing the horses each to an adjacent tree we commence 

 the search for Ortyx, Jack and 1 about twenty yards apart, 

 and the dog ranging on Jack's " off " side, aud circling in ad- 

 vance. Shortly the stony character of the ground is changed, 

 short grass with covert briar patches here and there upon the 

 soil give a more agreeable mode of locomotion than that a f- 

 Forded by the treacherous boulders. Now a sweet, soft, deli- 

 cious perfume is wafted passed us by a cool breeze, a step 

 farther and we are among them, the blue-eyed Southern violets 

 carpeting the ground as far as the eye can reach. Here and 

 there are other species of pretty little flowers scattered among 

 them. The fragrant yellow jessamine bushes spring up on all 

 sides, a spring comes bubbling from under a mossy boulder, 

 and goes dancing in its own little channel, seeming like the 

 fabled perfumed water of the fairy tales of our younger days 

 as it glides along almost hidden by the wild flowers on its 

 banks. We halt here for a moment to quench our thirst, the 

 eye roams dowu the hill. As far as the eye can reach, save 

 one or two church spues which rise above the pines in the 

 distances and proclaim the distant presence of the village, 

 all is one mass of pine trees, which are seemingly lost in the 

 skies, as the blue horizon engulfs them. 



Sufficiently rested, we commenced to hunt with a will, our 

 feet sinking at every step in the most beautiful and luxuriant 

 of nature's carpets. " Steady, Dick,'' I hear Jack exclaim, and 

 at last we have the first point of the afternoon. With Jack to 

 the left and I to the right of the dog we advance step by step 

 With him, a loud whirr of wings, and from beneath their jessa- 

 mine cover a flue bevy take wings, a simultaneous report on the 

 part of Herbert and myself as we pick out our birds on our 

 respective side, then bang ! bang ! go our second barrels, and 

 we mark the quail down "in the\listance. The pointer is at 

 charge, and we reload, Herbert quietly remarking that he has 

 made a double shot, and his birds lie among a patch of pansies. 

 I have seen one of -my birds drop and point out the direction 

 accordingly. Dick is ordered to retrieve, aud the beautiful 

 birds are one by one picked out of their flowering beds and 

 transferred to the deep and not odoriferous flavor of the 

 game rack. We now direct our steps to where we marked 

 the bevy which, is a short distance on a level portion of the 

 hill, anifwe expect great sport with the single and double 

 rises. A step more on my part, a bird flushes from beneath 

 mj feet and is dropped with my best wishes within twenty 

 yards. Now Dick points, aud Herbert stepping up 

 makes a glorious miss— the quail, like a bullet, is quar- 

 tering past me. I fire, but he still goes on and is lost 

 to sight for a second behind some tree trunks, and comes 

 Jot an instant id view before disappearing in a clump of 

 briars, bat that instant is fatal to him, and a snapshot from my 

 gnu kills him at about sixty yards. Tipping up the breeches 

 of my gun to insert fresh cartridges Dick makes another point, 

 two birds rise, one Jack kills, the others fly straight past me 

 ' ' 80 near and yet so far," for before I can lock the gun she is 

 out of sight. ' A few yards further on the dog points again, 

 Herbert calls me and offers me the shot, which I accept ; and 

 putting the bird up miss it beautifully' and my companion does 

 likcwi.-e. At the two last reports two or three quail, probably 

 the last of the bevy, flush of their own accord, and depart for 

 pasturage unknown, and where we have not the inclination 

 to investigate and proceed to hunt up a fresh bevy. Two more 

 flocks arc found during the afternoon, and our game pockets 

 possess quite respectable proportions, bagging nineteen quail 

 between us. 



The situ has half disappeared below the horizon when we 

 regain our hacks, and the rather chill evening air causes us to 

 proceed rather briskly homeward through the piue woods, now 

 gloomy with the approach of night, for the sun has quite sunk 

 below the distant tree-tops; the lights of the village appear in 

 the distance. Arriving at this, and takiug the shortest cut 

 through it we pass through more darkness and scattered cabins, 

 and then arrive at the hotel grounds. Riding to the stables 

 and leaving the horses, and seeing that Dick has his evening 

 meal we walk toward the mass of windows and light which 

 denotes the hotel. We enter the office, deposit the birds with 

 injunctions to have them served for dinner next day. 



Frank Wakwick. 



For ForeM and Stream. 

 BRUNO, THE RANCHE DOG. 



BT J. 0. BUBNKTT. 



GOOD duck shooting is exhilarating sport— perhaps no 

 more so in Colorado than anywhere else — but I never 

 found it more to my liking than that we unexpectedly discov- 

 ered on the plains near the mountains, some ten miles sout- 

 of Denver. My brother and I were spending a few weeks at 

 a ranchc there, preparing for extended trips to South, Middle 

 aud Est.es' Parks, and other attractive places, getting accli 

 mated and accustomed to pony riding, and providing the es- 

 sentials for six months camp life, hunting, fishing and sight- 

 seeing. 



Our six weeks' stay at that ranche is an illuminated recollec- 

 tion, a splendid picture, as it were, in the wonderful academy 

 of design, commonly known as memory. Looking back to 

 jt now, we see the grand old Rockies in the; distance, the un- 



dulating plains near by, and here and there a man with clog 

 and gun in quest of game along the rapid streams. The river 

 and creeks near, and a pretty little lake two miles off, were 

 frequent resorts in the month of April for green and blue- 

 winged teal, dusky and gray ducks, pin-tails, fish ducks, 

 brants and geese, and other aquatic, fowls. There were also 

 great numbers of snipe, and among them the beautiful white 

 and black American arose ts. In all my rambles there, how- 

 ever, I never found any jack snipes. 



A short distance from the cabin one drizzly day, I "scooped" 

 nine ducks at one shot, much to the amazement of the ranche 

 dog, who had recently taken a wonderful fancy to my gun, 

 and the, to him, strange work it did bringing down game. 

 The dog was a cross bet ween a Newfoundland aud a shepherd, 

 large, shaggy, generally good-natured, ugly in a rough and 

 tumble encounter "with any opposing forces, aud, for his op- 

 portunities, quite intelligent. On every occasion, and fre- 

 quently when his untutored nature made him a nuisance—for 

 instance when hunting grouse with my pointer— he would 

 notice preparations for a hunt, sneak off unobserved, and join 

 me a mile or so from home, where I could not control him. 

 He was such a staunch friend though, ever ready for a chase 

 or a fight, aud such a reliable companion at night in camp I 

 could seldom refuse to let him come along, even when his ser- 

 vices were not needed, and when his presence was sure to 

 spoil any sport which required a good nose and careful action. 

 His influence upon a pointer I had brought with me was also 

 bad. This, together with the fact that the pointer soon lost 

 his nose, or scent, caused, it was said, by the rare atmosphere, 

 deprived me of valuable assistance in hunting grouse. The 

 rauche-dog was famous for catching skunks. He could find 

 one of those odorous cats and jerk the life out of it quicker 

 than any dog in the country; and he did it without despoil- 

 ing his coal-black coat or tainting himself with the suffocating 

 perfumes of mephitis. How he did it was a mystery. Ponto, 

 the gentle and high-toned pointer, was, alas, induced by Bru- 

 no to try the same experiment, but he blundered fearfully, 

 and for a week was exiled from the little community, liviug 

 in disgrace and retirement in the bushes along the river. 

 There he made the acquaintance of some beavers, aud suc- 

 ceeded with Bruno's help in driving them out of their retreat 

 one day and killing two of the young ones— all of which, of 

 course, was very bad business for a pointer to be engaged in. 



One morning early, I tied Bruno in the corral, and with 

 Ponto following, set out on a pony for a few hours shooting 

 at the lake, aud on a creek a mile north of it. The sky was 

 a little cloudy, but promised well, and ducks were flying over- 

 head as soon as it was light. 



The two miles between our ranche and the lake were partly 

 up a steep divide, cut with breaks aud ravines, aud partly on 

 an elevated piece of table-land, or mesa, from which the view 

 to the mountains, fifteen miles off, was beautiful beyond any 

 attempt to describe with pen or pencil. On the level ground I 

 gave the pony the rein, a touch of the spur, aud went on a 

 galop, inhaling the pure, crisp air with fuller inspirations for 

 the benefit of the lungs, and feasting my eyes upon the scen- 

 ery limned against the sky in the beautiful West. The blood 

 bounded through arteries and veins with the invigorating ex- 

 ercise, and the mind was aglow with the stimmating influ- 

 ences of the inner life and the outer world. 



Arriving in sight of the lake, I was delighted to see it liter- 

 ally covered with ducks, while flocks were arriving in dctach- 

 meuts from distant fields every few minutes. The scene was 

 a capital one for a sportsman, and I thought no more of the 

 mountains I had been studying;, clothed as" they were in royal 

 purple, their gorgeous old domes gleaming and flashing in the 

 morning sun. Turning to follow the leeward side of a small 

 ravine to the south end of the lake, I was dismayed to see 

 the ranche-dog coming toward me, capering and bounding in 

 the most exuberant spirits, as if he had arrived just in time 

 to be of eminent service, and determined to stand by me in 

 any emergency ! To say that I was provoked and angry is 

 stating the fact pleasantly. All the excellent sport, which 

 seemed so certain to follow a few minutes before, was now 

 apparently ruined by the overflowing good nature of an un- 

 manageable cur. 



To make matters reach a crisis as quickly as possible, he es- 

 pied the game, and went helter-skelter down to the shore and 

 info the water. A cloud of ducks rose in the air, and I 

 yearned for the power of one of the mythical deities, that I 

 might transform the dog into a statue of marble, or even 

 change him into a stump that would do to hide behind in get- 

 ting a shot. But there was no help for it. The old dog knew no 

 such thing as minding, and besides he seemed to wonder 

 what ducks had wings for if they w r ere not to fly with. So, 

 tying the pony to a stake at the mouth of the ravine, I deter- 

 mined to make the most of what opportunities 1 should have. 

 I soon found a hollow in the ground, nearly hidden by grass 

 and weeds, where I concealed myself, and, making Ponto lie 

 close, awaited events. 



A stiff breeze had sprung up, and on the wings of this the 

 great cloud of ducks bore down toward me. As they turned 

 at the south shore to fly back, some of them already overhead, 

 and loud with the discovery of myself and the dog, they 

 came up abreast of the wind, and in such confusion that they 

 struck each other's wings, vaulting upward and diving below 

 again, to get room for freer progress. There was, in fact, a little 

 too much confusion, It was difficult to decide where to shoot, 

 although most anywhere would have been certain of execu- 

 tion. Selecting a line where there was the greatest hubbub, 

 I fired two shots in instant succession. Whew ! what a fall 

 was there, my fellow sportsmen I Six ducks "tumbled to 

 the racket " dead, and as many more wounded fluttered to 

 ground and water. Ponto gathered up the slain, proud of 

 his education, while Bruno, excited by the firing, swam 

 ashore and scampered to the other end of the lake, determined 

 not to let the birds rest there. 



Nothing could hare happened more fortunately. The air- 

 was full of ducks, each individual stretching his neck to the 

 utmost and quacking the wild alarum, while snipes and cur- 

 lews from off the prairie, whistling sand-pipers and noisy kill- 

 deers, shrieking avocets and croaking bitterns, added their 

 notes of warning to the general consternation. It was a 

 Babylon of splendid confusion for a duck hunter, and one 

 there was who enjoyed it. In a few minutes the ducks came 

 round again, tacking against the wind as before, and 1 got 

 another pretty shot, bringing down five. Ponto had his 

 hands, or rather hi3 mouth, full of business, and Bruno 

 slashed about like a mad dog, utterly beside himself with his 

 wonderful exploits. If the ducks came dosvn to the water 

 in the middle of the lake, he swam out and scared them up ; 

 if they flew to the other end, he considered it an especial duty 



to get around there as quickly as possible and drive them back 

 Poulo sat on bis haunches near me when he had brought, in 

 the game, looking i nfe otly at the old dog, turning occasion- 

 ally to me with a comical wink, apparently-wondering what I 

 thought of the performance, and whether it was according to 

 rule to cut up such fantastic tricks before high heaven when 

 there was game about and Ids master there with the gun. 



Again aud again the flocks, uow scattered aud thinned by 

 desertion, came sailing overheard, and one and two and three 

 at a lime fumbled iuto our possession. In the course of two 

 hours there were thirty-five ducks and five avocets piled up 

 on the ground by the side of my hiding-place. Ponto got 

 weary catching tiie wounded ones that fell on land, and final- 

 ly, when the ducks were nearly all gone, lay down to lick his 

 wet hair and paws, and receive the certain praise that was 

 sure to follow good behavior. Bruno came up cautiously, un- 

 certain whether he would get blame or thanks ; but when he 

 too was patted in recognition of services rendered, his joy 

 was as boundless as his energy had been before, while at the 

 water's edge he prauced and sniffed the breeze as if he was 

 sighing for other world's to conquer. 



To kill more would have been useless slaughter, so I tied 

 the birds together by making a needle of a stick and drawing 

 a string through their bills, threw them on the horn of the 

 saddle, and returned to the ranche. The ducks were in ex- 

 cellent condition, apparently just from the rice and celery 

 fields in the distant South, where they, 



" Feeding high and living soft 

 Grow plump and able-bodied." 



There were several savory roasts and stews at our cabin 

 during the two or throe days following, and many were sent 

 to neighboring ranches, where they were prized as highly as 

 at our own. Other days of jolly recreation followed, and for 

 a month we feasted on snipe and ducks and the plump cur 

 lews we found masquerading one at a time on the prairie 

 After that our attention was given to bigger game, and the 

 grander scenery of the Pacific slope of the Rockies. 



Far Forest and Stream and Rod and Gun. 

 AN INDIAN ROMANCE OF THE REVO- 

 LUTION. 



I WAS in my oatfield to-day watching the harvesters' at 

 work, when the reaper struck a stone which I picked up. 

 It was about the size of a man's head, and underneath was 

 found a broken piece of crockery, evidently the bottom of a 

 plate, and on it a picture of a canoe propelled by three In- 

 dians. What would I give to know the history of him who 

 once feasted from this broken plate. On this spot, now gleam- 

 ing with a golden harvest, once stood an Indian cabin. The 

 owner of the land, who then lived here was a beautiful 

 maiden of the Chickasaws— Rhoda Gunn, famed throughout 

 the nation for her wonderful beauty. She was descended 

 from a Virginia gentleman named Gunn, through whose veins 

 coursed the proud blood of the cavaliers. During the war of 

 the revolution her father was a staunch loyalist, who fought 

 as bravely for the crown as any cavalier in the days of Charles 

 the First and the Roundheads. With the triumph of the 

 American cause Gunn scorned to . dwell among those whom 

 he considered rebels. He gathered together property, which 

 consisted chiefly of slaves, and sullenly departed, leaving Vir- 

 ginia and civilization, to seek a home among the Chickasaws. 

 This tribe had been friends of the English, and had been their 

 allies in the wars against the French. Gunn was kindly re- 

 ceived, and, being adopted into the tribe, still further identi- 

 fied himself with them by wedding one of their maidens. It 

 is said that the royalist exile always celebrated the birthday of 

 King George, and allowed no sound of merriment on his 

 place on Independence Day. He died in the year 1826, leav- 

 ing a large estate to his children. A portion of the inherit- 

 ance of the writer was left by Gunn to his granddaughter 

 Rhoda, the belle of the Chickasaws, and one of the sweetest 

 wild flowers of the forest. 



When the white man entered the Chickasaw territory, 

 Rhoda Gunn was in the first dawn of womanhood, and her 

 wealth and superior attractions drew many an adventurous 

 land speculator to her feet. But in vain the white man wooed 

 the haughty Indian maid -, she looked upon them as the race 

 who had wronged her grandsire, and she had inherited all of 

 the elder Gunn's contempt for the race of rebels. Although 

 many a Saxon suitor sought her hand, and poured iuto her 

 ears the old, old story, they sighed in vain. The grandchild 

 of the faithful loyalist was to be won by no carpet knight. 

 But her smiles and her love were given to a dusky warrior of 

 the Chickasaws ; one who had nothing to offer his lady love 

 but a strong arm, a brave, true heart that had never forsaken 

 a friend or quailed before an enemy. 



And there upon the spot where my reapers were gleaning 

 to-day they dwelt, and there is nothing left of the home of the 

 proud beauty but this relic of a broken plate which lies before 

 me. And but few who are now living know anything of the 

 Gunn family ; or who will care to remember the traditions of 

 the race that welcomed the proud royalist to their hearts and 

 home. Gunntown, on the Mobile and Ohio railroad, was 

 named for the elder Gunn, yet even its inhabitants are unac- 

 quainted with the origin of its name. 



This is a true history, not merely a romance of the forest, 

 although there is so much romance in it. But few of us are 

 left who were here when the red man occupied this land. 

 With us will pass -away r the kindly memories of their race. 

 Let us recall those memories while wo may. The savage i f 

 the far West to-day is not, the Indian I knew in my childhood, 

 for, kind reader, I was not born in the United States, though 

 1 was born near the spot where I now reside. I was born a 

 subject to Ish-ta ho-to-pa and Puc-ca-lah, the king and queen 

 of the Chickasaws, and iu my heart I am a loyalist to this day. 

 The Chickasaws were the allies of the white man ; a pure, 

 brave and virtuous race when the white man came am 

 them. The civilizing influences of Christianity corrupted and 

 destroyed them. They were cheated out of their land and 

 sent westward, where they are btill swindled and persecuted. 

 " Let politicians prate 

 Of equal rights which men ne'er knew— 

 I have a love for freedom, too." Pious .Teems. 



—Honesty and candor are not only the most moral But the most, effec ■ 

 tive buttresses or business. B. T. Babbitt does not claim a rich, 

 strong perfume for his Toilet Soap, but he does aay, aud defies contra- 

 diction in it, that no toiletsoap is equal to it in absolute purity ;t 

 cellence. The materials themselves communicate a delicate odor, like 

 that of a bank of violets in spring time— [Adv, 



