468 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



even fancy you can see them, tinned to stone as they toiled— 

 men with cowls on like gnomes, women wearing broad- 

 brimmed hats resembling mushrooms. On that white, 

 dome-shaped hill stands their citadel, with rude battlements, 

 bastions and donjon-tower; there is their cathedral, where 

 those two lofty splinters of basalt stand side byside, their 

 front faces vertical, in the rear resting upon a buttress not 

 unlike the body of a church ; the round perforation in yonder 

 black pinnacle was their clock, and through its open face you 

 may see the sun rise. All has the semblance of massive ma- 

 sonry, the volcanic rock being checkered by rectangular hues 

 of cleavage into ponderous blocks that are piled to dizzy 

 heights. 



And everywhere between the lava-dikes are the curiously 

 eroded white buttes as far back as the eye reaches. Almost 

 every imaginable architectural form and animal shape is rep- 

 resented, and for fifty miles this curious spectacle continues 

 with endless varification. In one place was a perfectly square 

 house with mansard roof and dormer windows, all of gigantic- 

 proportions. 



The strata are horizontal, and through the easily disinte- 

 grated white sandstone, run thin discolored layers of more 

 compact quality, which, succumbing to atmospheric influ- 

 ences less rapidly than the main mass, are left protruding to 

 stud the honey-combed face of the bluff with shelves and 

 brackets, or to lie like a long iron beam on marble columns, 

 between which you might ride your horse ; or are poised on 

 wasp-waisted pillars to serve as round tables for the Bad 

 Land gods. Thousands of such capped columns and little 

 tables, like big toad-stools, were disposed along the sides of 

 the hills ; while in the cmilees, or ravines, colonnades and de- 

 tached pedestals of partially cemented sand, capped by huge 

 globes of light-brownish color, as perfectly round as though 

 turned upon a lathe, towered up to the height of a hundred 

 feet or more. "One of the things we brag about," a pilot 

 said tome, "is Citadel Rock." It is a vertical shaft of lava 

 striking two hundred feet toward heaven upon a base forty 

 feet square. Another is Steamboat Rock, which, from a cer- 

 tain point, has a striking resemblance to the outlines of a 

 side-wheeler. Some of the hills were terraced into tiers of 

 carefully shaped domes, capped by a single huge dome, sur- 

 mounted, perhaps, by a minature dead volcano, whose hard 

 basaltic bit of a crater preserves the apes from wasting 

 away. Sometimes these curious forms were isolated, a whole 

 hill having been worn down to a single grotesque monument ; 

 elsewhere they would be clustered thick over the surface of 

 BOme eminence, showing that there the water had been back- 

 ward in its sculpture. It was as entertaining to try to make 

 out the varying similtudes of tbe shapes the water-worn vocks 

 had assumed to objects of art or living things, as they flitted 

 by us, ,as to study the moving forms of the clouds on 'a sum- 

 mer afternoon. Near Pablois Rapids (Pablois was a wicked 

 old French voyageur who made a business of stealing horses 

 from the northern Indians, or anywhere else, and crossing 

 them here) the edge of the crag ahead showed the mighty 

 profile of an ancient Egyptian, just such a face as adorns the 

 catacombs at Thebes. "As we drifted nearer, this venerable 

 personage slowly changed into the visage of a New York 

 plug-ugly, with low forehead, bulging eye, undershot jaw 

 and a mole on his nose. This faded out as we progressed, 

 and there came to view the high forehead, sharp nose, sunken 

 lips and double chin of an aged man full of solemnity. It 

 was the foot of a mountain of leather-brown lava, rising 1,300 

 feet above the river, with ragged, desolate, crimson cliffs and 

 slopes of loose debris. Creeping around it, the Benton ran 

 her nose against the next white cliff— so deep was the water 

 at the base — and allowed the current to swing her into the 

 proper channel before she backed a little away, and then 

 went on to where the white hills shut in the blue water at the 

 next bend._ After this came mountains of lava, fragments 

 of fire-stained rock, with gloomy canyons between square 

 buttes of black basalt. Owing to the yielding nature of the 

 friable sandstones and soft marls composing these buttes, 

 then sides are easily excavated, and the sod washed down 

 into the hollows holds the water in a most tenacious mud, 

 which crusts over as though firm. These treacherous quag- 

 mires make traveling through the Bad Lands almost impossi- 

 ble for animals, and occasioned the name Mauvawes terres, 

 given by the early explorers. 



For Forest and Stream and Hod mid Gun. 

 SPORT IN MINNESOTA. 



DUCKS, GEESB, JACKSNIPE AND A BUSSIAN "BIED-DOO," 



FOR sportsmen visiting Minnesota in search of health, re- 

 creation or amusement, no part of the State offers bet- 

 ter opportunities than the region traversed by the "Main 

 Line of the First Division of the St. Paul and Pacific Rail- 

 road, with its extension in the Valley of the Red River of the 

 North." 



Leaving St. Paul and Minneapolis, this road runs in a north- 

 westerly direction for 216 miles to Breckenridge at the conflu- 

 enea of the Red River and the Bois de Sioux, and thence 

 nearly due north, parallel with the first mentioned water- 

 course, for 120 miles more through the beautiful and fertile 

 Red River valley, and will, doubtless, before the end of next 

 year, be completed to the boundaries of Uncle Sam's posses- 

 sions on the confines of Manitoba, connecting there with the 

 railroad system of the British Dominion. This is in every 

 respect a first-class road, running Pullman's sleeping and 

 palace cars. The officers are courteous and attentive, and— 

 what to a sportsman is of great importance — the baggage- 

 masters will take very good care of their dogs at trilling 

 charges. 



For the first seventy miles the road passes through a dense 

 forest of hardwood, the "Grand Bois" of the French fur 

 traders in ante-territorial times. Deer are here quite plenty, 

 and ruJJed grouse very abundant, and in the numerous lakes 

 good pickerel, pike and black bass fishing is found. If you 

 are a follower of good old Izaak Walton make your first slop 

 at Way zata, where the beautiful Lake Minnetonka, one of the 

 finest in Minnesota, offers you unusual opportunities, and 

 where the hotel accommodations are very good. Farther on 

 through the woods a sportsman may find suitable quarters at 

 almost any station, but Howard Lake, Gokato and Dassel are 

 recommended. 



At Darwin you get the first glimpse of the great North- 

 western prairie. Groves scattered here and there between 

 grain fields, lakes and Btretch.es of native prairie, are at first 



numerous ; but, as you proceed westward, they gradually di- 

 minish in numbers and extent, untU after passing Hermann, 

 not a tree is in sight for forty miles. 



In this beautiful country between Darwin and Herman, 

 the pinnated grouse (Cupkkniia eupido) is found everywhere 

 quite plenty, and in certain places there is excellent duck and 

 geese shooting, notably in the neighborhood of Litchfield, 

 Alwater (at the Kandigohi lakes), Willmar, Morris and Her- 

 mann. In all the places comfortable accommodations may be 

 had at reasonable prices, and also teams to carry the sports- 

 men to the hunting grounds. At Hermann you bid good-bye 

 to lake and grove and enter a sea of waving grass, the famous 

 valley of the Red River of the North, destined in a future time 

 - and not a far distant either — to be the great granary of Ameri- 

 ca. On a single farm in tlds valley, where two years ago not 

 a plow had touched the ground, was raised during the past 

 year 185,000 bushels of wheat of the very best quality, and 

 there are several other places already under cultivation, the 

 extent of which would astonish an Eastern agriculturist. 



Sojourning in this valley, the observant sportsman can 

 hardly fail to notice some new features as well in the flora as 

 the fauna of this region when compared with that of the more 

 eastern part of Minnesota. Instead of the usual varieties of 

 prairie grass you find the bunch or buffalo grassof the plains. 

 The common deer has nearly disappeared and is supplanted 

 by the elk, and farther north by the moose. The pinnated 

 grouse is now scarce, but its sharp-tailed congenor (Pedwcetes 

 pJiamanelhiH) becomes more and more numerous ; and to those 

 of my brother sportsmen who would wish to find this — the 

 finest game bird of the grouse family— in multitudes in the 

 Red River valley, I would say, come out next season and 

 have for once a day of good sport. Do not delay until it is 

 too late, for the Red River valley in its whole length and 

 breadth will soon be transformed into a waving wheat field, 

 and the Phasianellus like Leather stocking of old, does not 

 love settlements, and will soon retire to the wild prairies and 

 oak openings, where he is undisturbed by the presence of 

 man. Among other changes in the animal kingdom may be 

 mentioned that our well known little cotton-tail (Lepu-s syl- 

 vatkus) is seen here no more, and its place is occupied by its 

 larger cousin, the jack-rabbit (L, campe&tris) ; the common 

 Western brant (Anmr alh'frons), is supplanted by that most 

 beautiful of the Anserinse, the snow goose (A. hyperbormus), 

 which here may *be seen in flocks by the hundred, and the 

 smaller cut lew (JShimerius Inidsonious), so common along the 

 eastern part of the road, gives room to the sickle-bill {Num. 

 Imigirostrit). Doubtless there are many other changes, but 

 the above have come within my own observation. 



After leaving Hermann there is as yet, on a stretch of 150 

 miles, only three stopping places with fair hotel accommoda- 

 tions — Breckenridge, where, there are good geese, duck, grouse 

 and woodcock shooting ; Glyndon, where this road intersects 

 with the Northern Pacific, and Crookstown, near the present 

 terminus. Arouud the two latter places the sharp- tailed 

 grouse is found in great abundance, but, according to the 

 game law at present in force, this fine game-bird, with the 

 pinnated grouse, is in season only from August 15 to Octo- 

 ber 1. 



Stopping for a few days in the beginning of October this 

 year at Morris, a thriving young town on this line of railroad, 

 I was invited by my friend, John Galvin, roadmaster on that 

 part of the road, to join him and a few other friends in a 

 day's goose and duck shooting at Hermann. Our party in- 

 cluded Hon. J. McCarthy, of the St. Paul City Council; 

 Alessrs. Michael Galvin, R. Morris and the writer. By the 

 westward bound train we arrived at Hermann after dark and 

 were most kindly and hospitably entertained by Mr. Galvin 

 and his amiable family, in whose company we spent a very 

 pleasant evening. Before daybreak the next morning we 

 were on our way to the hunting field, some three miles dis- 

 tant. For conveyance we used a hand-car which brought us 

 in a short time to our destination, a stubble-field, where geese 

 and brant were known to congregate for feeding. By the 

 thoughtfulness of our host several pits, each large and deep 

 enough to hold a man, had been dug here the previous day, 

 and after putting out our decoys, we lost no time to occupy 

 our hiding-places. The w ather was mild, the sky cloudy, 

 aud hardly a breath of air stirring. At the break of day the 

 birds commenced coming in. McCarthy had the first shot 

 and brought down a fine Canada goose. Morris came next 

 and got two brant in one shot ; but after this— and it was 

 now broad daylight— the birds flew very high, and, and al- 

 though the fusilade was quite lively, very few birds were 

 bagged. After about two hours' stay in the pits we consid- 

 ered the morning hunt finished, and returned to tbe railroad 

 and our hand-car, bringing with us five geese and two brant. 



We were soon back to Hermann and to our friend's house, 

 where an excellent breakfast was in waiting; and to this, 

 with the true appctitcof hunters, we did so ample justice that 

 it was nearly 11 o'clock before we were ready for the day's 

 duck-shooting. In the meantime our party had been in- 

 creased by two young gentlemen from Morris, Messrs. Fisher 

 and Brisbine, who now joined us in the intended expedition. 



We started in two wagons for a group of lakes about three or 

 four miles from the village. These lakes are all connected by 

 a sluggish creek, and at the several inlets and outletB are ex- 

 cellent duck-passes. The place assigned to me by our cap- 

 tain was at one of these outlets of the creek into a large lake. 

 On account of long-continued drought the water in the creek 

 was low, and the banks covered with soft mud. Behind was a 

 border of high bullrushes. In the edge of these I found an 

 old boat, in which I and my Irish setter "Rover" made our 

 headquarters. The place was a good one. I had a comforta- 

 ble seat in the stern of the boat, and my dog a dry place at my 

 feet, and we were both pretty well hid by the surrounding 

 high weeds. Here we were now ready for the fray. Soon a 

 teal-duck came along the pass at a rate a good deal faster than 

 2:40. I aimed fully two feet ahead, and down it came on the 

 other side of the creek. This was a good beginning. Rover 

 saw it fall, received his order to "fetch," swam the creek, 

 brought it back handsomely, and resumed his seat in the boat. 

 This was repeated several times. Some ducks I missed, 

 others I bagged. All were of the same species — the blue- 

 winged teal. Not another kind did I see. 



I had been in this place quite a long while, probably a 

 couple of. hour?, when Rover's nostrils commenced working. 

 He rose to his feet, his tail stiffened, and he came to a most 

 decided point where he stood in the boat. I was quite puz- 

 zled, but soon the explanation appeared. A jack-snipe, a 

 genuine Qallinago wiUojiii, came out of a small patch of tus- 

 socks to my left, and was followed by others untfl there were 

 four of them. They went on feeding on the mud-flat close 

 by the boat, and within six feet from me and the dog. 1 put 

 my left hand on Rover's head and whispered, "Down!" 

 winch was obeyed, his head remaining on the edge of the 

 boat, and his glaring eyes foil) '.-' every mo rc- 



Doent with marked interest. It was a pretty sight. The little 



fellows must have seen me, but did not seem to care, anda 

 went on with their business quite unconcernedly. They puil 

 their bills about half their length down in the soft mud, then. 1 

 raised them up and tried another place ; then they ran the ' 

 bills down until the mud reached their eyes, and brought up a « 

 worm or a grub, which they gobbled with great dexterity. J 

 Sometimes, when one of them had caught some big worm, ■ 

 which was not at once swallowed, the others would try to take I 

 it away, followed in pursuit by the whole party, just as you I 

 can see the chickens behave any day in the barnyard. This 

 continued for quite a whue. I remained perfectly still, very " 

 much interested and amused, while more than one duck, un- 

 observed or disregarded, sailed over my head within reach of 

 my gun. The fun I had looking at the performance on the 

 mud-flat was more to me than shooting teal. At last, like a 

 flash, they suddenly disappeared among the weeds. A shadow 

 was reflected on the water. I looked up and beheld a hawk 

 suspended in the air just above my little neighhor'3 feeding- 

 ground. To get my gun to the shoulder and pull the trigger 

 was the work of an instant, and I sent. Mr. Hawk heels over 

 head down in the creek. I was in a humor to defeud those 

 four snipe against all the hawks in Minnesota. But they did 

 not show themselves a second time, and after a whUe I again 

 commenced to pay attention to the ducks, and brought down 

 a few more. 



During ad the time I had been sitting in the boat I had 

 heard my friends ddigently at work farther down the lakes, 

 and, judging from the number of discharges of the guns, I 

 supposed we must have a wagon-load of birds. It was rather 

 late in the afternoon, and remembering a big lunch basket in 

 one of the wagons, the contents of which I thought it time to 

 examine, I left my place and joined my companions, whom I 

 found scattered about on a stretch of more than a mile. They 

 reported varied success, and complained that the birds had 

 been flying rather high and "very fast." We had now 

 luncheon and counted our game. There were eighty-two 

 ducks of several varieties— mallards, French teal, broad-bills, 

 widgeons, etc., of which my contribution was ten, all teal, to 

 get which I had emptied twenty-one shells. We now wend- 

 ed our way back to Hermann and Mr. Galvin's hospitable 

 house, where we arrived after sunset. 



• A RUSSIAN BTBE-DOG. 



By the morning train, the day following, we returned to 

 Morris. On board the train we met two of the crack shots of 

 St. Paul, Messrs. Keogh and Bruno Beaupre. These gentle- 

 men bad spent two or three days at Hermann, and brought 

 with them fourteen geese and brant and about 100 ducks, 

 which, added to our new supply of birds, made the luggage- 

 car look quite gamey. 



There was also on the train another sportsman, a Mr. 

 Sapier, who had been shooting farther up the road, at Breck- 

 inridge. Mr. Sapier had with him six hunting dogs, and 

 among their number— lo I aid behold! — there was a Russian 

 setter. No mistake about it ; it was the genuine article. At 

 the first glance his very face brought memories back from 

 other scenes and times long gone by. Mr. Sapier, to whom I 

 sought an introduction, is by birth a Frenchmen. He was a 

 stranger in these part, but seemed a gentlemen of cultivation 

 and intelligence, and was on his way South to continue his 

 hunting expedition. In the course of conversation he in- 

 formed me that he got the dog in question from a Mr. Keith 

 (of the firm Keith & Milligan), of Chicago ; that the dog had 

 won a prize at the late tench show in said city, and that some 

 parties in the State of Indiana, well known to Mr. Keith, 

 kept a whole kennel of this breed of dogs, which properly 

 ought to be called, not setters, but Russian bird-dogs, under 

 which name, Mr. Sapier asserted, they were mentioned by 

 several authorities, and by which title the dog now belonging 

 to Mr. S. had won his prize in Chicago. Here, then, is a key 

 to the solution of the question, so warmly discussed in the 

 columns of the Foeest and Stream and Ron and Gun, 

 whether any such breed of dogs as Russian setters (bird-dogs) 

 is in existence. " All of which is respectfully submitted." 



J. S. 

 .-^«. . 



For Forest and Stream and Rod and Qun. 



TROUT IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 



Denver, Colorado, Jan. 5, 1878. 

 Editor Forest and Stream: 



The eastern two-fifths of Colorado is plains or prairies. 

 The western three-fifths is mountainous. In most of this 

 larger portion the mountains are very rugged and lofty, but 

 there are wide areas of plain, park and valley. Most of the 

 mountain slopes, from 0,000 to 11,000 feet above the level of 

 the sea, are covered with forests of evergreen timber. In the 

 mountain portion of the Slate, five great rivers take their 

 rise. The North and South Platte flow out to the north and 

 east, uniting midway of the great plain, and joining the Mis- 

 souri near Omaha. The. Rio Grande del Norte speeds away 

 to the south, traverses the territory of the United States for 

 more than a thousand miles, then forms the boundary be- 

 tween the two republics nearly as much further, and falls into 

 the Gulf of Mexico beneath tropical skies. The Gunnison 

 and Grand plunge down to the west, where, with the Green, 

 they form the great Colorado of the West, which enters the 

 Pacific through the Gulf of California. 



These five large rivers are made up from innumerable 

 tributaries, great and small. Score% of them are so large as to 

 be formidable in the season of floods. They in turn are formed 

 by smaller tributaries, down to the tiniest brooklets, but 

 nearly all find their beginning in the snow-banks and ice- 

 fields that forever fleck the sides and cover the elevated 

 plateau of the high mountains. Such water as they carry 

 is the chosen home of the brook trout, or, as they are more 

 commonly called here, mountain trout. The first settlers of 

 the country, who came hither eighteen or twenty years ago, 

 found almost every stream swarming with these delicious 

 fish, and the same streams contain them yet, but in many of 

 those nearest to populous settlements they have been almost 

 decimated. Further away they are more plentiful, and in the 

 distant wilderness there is plenty of water over which a fly 

 has never yet been cast. There are some streams that contain 

 no fish, owing generally to their being cut off by inaccessible 

 waterfalls. Generally every lake, river, creek or brook in 

 which a trout can swim has its finny denizens at some season 

 of the year. 



The Rocky Mountain trout differs from the brook trout of 

 the Eastern States in color and markings. The spots are 

 black, though in certain streams reddish Bp 

 and some are beautifully marked with carmine stripe 

 shading-away tints along the sides. There are, in all, five 

 varieties — possibly more if nice distinctions are 

 differing in color, tint and quality of fie 

 habit. They are said to be 

 Northeastern States. 1 cac 



