Mat 4, 1883.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



267 



A PAGE FROM OTHER DAYS. 

 "MY FIRST WILD GOOSE." 



WHAT a thrill ran through me as I read that heading in 

 one of the late numbers of the Forest and Stream 

 the other day! How memory ran instantly back to that cool 

 November day, many years ago, when I also achieved that 



fTcatest of boyish triumphs and laid low my first wild goose, 

 ntervening years, passed over with all the quickness of 

 thought, are checkered with unnumbered hunting episodes 

 among the mightiest game that our country affords, years 

 spent with the buffalo, elk, black, brown and grizzly bears 

 of the far West, have left nothing in their proudest 

 moments to compare with the happiness of that ''first wild 

 goose. " 



The two boys who pushed out from the wharf in the 

 Blackstone River, between Pawtucket and Providence, 

 Rhode Island, in a small sailboat, on the day aforesaid, never 

 dreamed of a prize greater than a black duck or a bluebill, 

 with which to grace the Thanksgiving table; and as they 

 chased the wary flocks of ducks hour after hour across the 

 broad expanse that separates "Bucklin's Island," from the 

 Butler Hospital, without getting a single bird, their hearts 

 became sick from hope long deferred, and the possibility of 

 returning empty-handed thrust itself before their minds 

 with disagreeable prominence as the sun dipped low in the 

 west. 



In tacking to and fro across the river the eyes of the 

 writer, who it is hardly necessary to add was one of the boys 

 mentioned, had frequently rested for an instant upon a large 

 bird floating alone in the distance., apart from and somewhat 

 out of the courses usually taken by the ducks when driven from 

 the flats by our approach; but taking it for granted that it was 

 one of the great loons, quite common in those waters, we 

 paid but little attention to it until in making a long tack to 

 get to the windward of a small flock of duck we approached 

 nearer than at any previous time, when to my surprise and 

 delight I discovered that prominent distinguishing character- 

 istic, the white collar of the Canada honker. 



To gibe and turn our boat in this direction was the 

 work of a moment, and placing the tiller and sheet in the 

 hands of my companion, I seized the largest of the two guns 

 we carried, an old Continental musket changed from flint 

 to percussion, and seating myself at the foot of the mast 

 with a heart thumping like a quartz mill in my breast, I 

 waited the final moment. How my arms ached as I held 

 that great gun to my cheek long before we were near enough 

 to shoot. The boat was dashing through the water like a 

 grampus under about all the breeze she was able to stand, 

 but it actually seemed to me that the goose was swimming 

 faster than we were going, so impatient did I get. The 

 thought of letting that goose get on to the wing before I fired, 

 was the very last I should have entertained. I fired. The 

 head of the bird dropped helpless upon the water; his great 

 wings began flopping vigorously ; the helmsman threw the 

 tiller hard aport; I leaned over the gunwale as far as pos- 

 sible to secure the prize ; the boom swung like lightning over 

 to our side; the bags of sand-ballast shifted and we were upset 

 in a twinkling. As the water poured in on one side we "lit 

 out" over the other; and in far less time than it takes to 

 write it were both standing on the keel with the boat bottom 

 up. "Grab that goose, DeWitt," shouted I as a wave washed 

 him within reach of my companion, by whom he was rapidly 

 hauled out of the wet. * 



Some oystermen half a mile distant, seeing our dilemma, 

 came to our assistance, and righted our boat. The large gim 

 I had saved; the smaller was found caught In the thwarts; 

 but the. shot pouches had gone to the bottom. I was wet 

 only a little above the knees, and my companion hardly at 

 all; but we had the goose for Thanksgiving. 



Forked Deer. 



&42T FSAJTSCIBCO. 



THE LAST BEAR HUNT IN SARATOGA COUNTY. 



I NOTICE that some of your correspondents have related 

 experiences that transpired many years ago, I claim the 

 like privilege, and if this should come to the notice of any 

 person living in the vicinity of the last hear hunt in Saratoga 

 county, N. Y., I wish them to let it be known through the 

 columns of your paper. The hunt was some fifty-five years ago ; 

 I was then a small boy, but think I remember distinctly all 

 that transpired. It was in the fall of the year. News came 

 to the little town where I lived that a large black hear had 

 been seen on Quaker Hill. The hounds were gathered to- 

 gether in that vicinity, and the guns were all reloaded and 

 new flints placed in position. Dogs were fed an extra 

 allowance. Mothers huddled their little darlings indoors and 

 watched at the chamber windows. All Quaker Hill was tremb- 

 ling with fear. There was a bear in the woods. Early in 

 the evening the dogs were all turned loose, all eager for the 

 fray. All night they followed the trail of that black bear over 

 rocks and mountains, through spruce swamps and into creeks; 

 and early in the morning as the sun rose to warm the eastern 

 side of Quaker Mountain, one could hear the deep, loud 

 baying of those dogs while they were in hot chase of the 

 bear. On came the hunters with their oft repeated shouts to 

 encourage the dogs. The dogs would come up and clinch the 

 bear, but old bruin would fight for dear life, and at each 

 pitched battle some of the dogs would get crippled and were 

 forced to abandon the chase. As the sun rose up so that, I he 

 prey began to get hot, he took to the water and was deter- 

 mined to fight it out. in that pool. The dogs came up and a 

 regular pitched battle commenced with all the dogs on at 

 once. One fine dog was instantly killed, while another was 

 crippled so severely that he was useless, and that moment 

 help came; one of the men crawled up behind n, large rock, 

 close to the scene of conflict and shot the bear dead on the 

 spot. This ended the last bear hunt in Saratoga county, N. 

 1. I saw one of the bear's feet, it was brought into 'town 

 and measured four and one -half inches across the ball of the 

 foot, just back of the toes. 



I well remember a veiy large gray wolf passing through 

 that neighborhood. Two of these'hounds followed him and 

 were seen in hot chase on the trail thirty miles south of where 

 they started. 1 woidd like to know if there is any such dogs 

 in existence at the present day. I have been raising hounds 

 for forty years, but can get no such dogs as they were in 

 those day's. I have owned some imported fine blooded 

 hounds, and have seen all sorts of line-haired dogs, but none 

 would compare with those of my boyhood. 



I well remember the first percussion cap I saw. I was a 

 small boy and attended the ferry on North River. I once 

 ferried a* man across the river in a skiff, he had a percussion 

 rifle. I saw the cap on the tube, I offered him sixpence for 

 a cap, hut could not get one. That was fifty-five or fifty- 

 eight years ago. 



My first deer was seen forty-eight years ago in Chautauqua 

 county near Jamestown. I was then quite a big boy. It 

 was just west of Jamestown, iu the month of February, and 

 the suowflakes were falling big and fast. I was hunting and 

 saw what I supposed to be "Old Tracy's" Jack feeding by a 

 brush heap. 1 sighted my rifle at his heart and thought how 

 easy I could have killed him if it had been a deer. My nerves 

 were steady while he was a Jack, but he raised his head and 

 then he was a deer. Then 1 sighted again or tried to, but 

 my nerves had weakened. I had the buck fever, and the 

 old fellow showed me his flag and away he went, Of course 

 I didn't shoot, I might have done as a lawyer did who 

 hunted with me in Iowa, He shot at it to hit; it if it were a 

 deer, and to miss if it were a calf; and it was a calf, and he 

 missed it. 



But I can say now to the sporting fraternity that those 

 boyish days have past and I am on the decline, but I have 

 made my moccasin from the skin of many an old buck since 

 I saw "old Traccy's Jack." N. M. S. 



L'ARTHAOB, MO. 



RAT-HUNTING IN THE FLOOD. 



"The home of my boyhood, my own country home, 

 I love it the better wherever I roam. 

 The lure of proud city, the wealth of the main, 

 Hath never a charm like my own native plain." 



HAVING been born and raised in the country, I can fully 

 realize the feelings of the writer of these lines, which 

 I quote from memory. For several years I have been closely 

 confined by business in this city, where, of course, we can 

 have none of the sports and pleasures that we used to enjoy 

 in the forest and on the stream. And now, when a day's 

 sport is to be indulged in, we must pack our valise with 

 "traps and fittings," board some outward bound train, and 

 many miles must be traversed before we can step down in a 

 territory where we may reasonably expect to find any game 

 that is "worthy of our steel." 



How well do I remember the small cottage that stood 

 within a stone's throw of the woods where I have killed 

 many a quail and ruffed grouse. And just beyond, down 

 the hill within another stone's throw, flowed the stream 

 where I have enjoyed myself many an hour in throwing out 

 the sneckled trout, pickerel, bullheads, perch and dace. And 

 near our home was a large meadow, where I used to set steel 

 traps for muskrats. In this same meadow I used to shoot 

 snipe in the spring and shoot woodcock in the fall. Occa- 

 sionally I would get a shot at ducks in the river, and when 

 with my old muzzle-loading gun I would kill one or two of 

 them, no "King of the Cannibal Islands," in his full dress of 

 "plug" hat and a pair of spectacles, felt prouder than I. 

 Sometimes now, I think as I look at my costly breech-loader 

 with its fine fittings, its rich Damascus barrels, and all 

 modern improvements, together with my "toggery" of a 

 thousand and one sporting articles that I had never heard of 

 then, that I cannot enjoy a hunting trip as I did then with 

 that old twelve-dollar grin, powder horn and shot carried in an 

 old bottle. One early spring (when I was about sixteen years 

 old) the schoolmaster had occasion to correct me with a well- 

 meant lecture for absenting myself from school. For in- 

 stance, if a light fall of snow should greet my merry eyes in 

 the morning, I would take down my gun, whistle to Rover, 

 go hunting rabbits, and, perhaps, would not think of 'school 

 before ten or eleven o'clock. One day the teacher told me 

 positively "that this gunning business must cease in school 

 hours," that I must have longer lessons as a "penalty for 

 past offences, " and, in fact, went so far as to threaten me 

 with bodily harm in the form of a ' 'licking" if I was absent 

 again without his consent. Just think of it. He would 

 weigh, perhaps, lOOlbs. and I about ISOlbs. I mentally 

 asked myself how he would go to work to accomplish this 

 seemingly impossible feat. 



In a few days afterward there came a warm south wind, 

 and with it, as usual, came rain. As there, was considerable 

 snow on the ground, the river began to rise and in the morn- 

 ing there was a. freshet, such as was seldom seen in those 

 parts. Of course the first thing that I did after breakfast 

 was to take down the gun, and with it a good supply of am- 

 munition and start for the river. On the way I met a friend 

 who would go with me and "scour the river" for muskrats. 

 We soon came to the boat, and, unlocking it, we launched 

 the craft and embarked, taking Rover along with us. The 

 muskrat at this season lives in nests, or houses, made of grass, 

 roots, reeds, flags and a general conglomeration of such 

 aquatic plants as best suit his convenience. The nests 

 somewhat resemble a cock of hay in the meadow. Some- 

 times I have found them in holes in the river bank. When 

 the water rises over the nest, or holes, the rat is ' 'drowned 

 out," and takes refuge on the limbs of alders or bushes that 

 grow by the water's edge (at such times partially submerged). 

 I did not understand "rat-hunting" at that time as well as 

 Jim did, so I thought best that he should do the shooting and 

 sit in the bow, while I sat in the stern and propelled the boat 

 slowly and as noiselessly as possible. As we nearod a meadow 

 (well overflowed), Jim motioned to me to "port my helm," 

 and as the bow swung round to the left, the report of the gun 

 rang out across the water, and a rat was kicking his hast kick 

 upon its surface. The next one was found in the same way 

 and again Jim "sent him up." I told Jim that I did not see 

 cither rat until after he fired, and he responded that it "re- 

 quired the eye of an eagle to see some of them, for they 

 would lie with nothing but the nose and part of the head out 

 of the water" among the bushes. Soon one came swimming 

 across a cove, and as he neared the boat, Jim gave him a 

 broadside, and it was a comical sight to see bim perform in 

 his attempts to dive under the water. But it was no go. He 

 was too hard hit, and with the paddle I soon dispatched him 

 and gathered him in. Down the river we went, and the 

 sport with the rats was but a repetition of the first three 

 shots, with of course a little variation. Some were missed 

 and some wounded ones succeeded in making their escape. 

 The muskrat is very tenacious of life, and when brought to 

 bay, will fight like a tiger. When we, went ashore (two 

 miles below where we started) we counted forty-one musk- 

 rats, two ducks and a crow. We stopped shooting because 

 our ammunition gave out, and if we had more we could have 

 killed more rats. After landing, Jim went up the hill and 

 soon returned with an armful "of straight sticks, cut from 

 second-growth hickory. I held the rats and Jim cut the skin 

 around all four legs at the knee, then with the point he cut 

 the skin from each gambrol to the tail, unjoiuted the tail at 

 the base, and stripped the skin off whole down over the head. 

 Then taking one of the sticks he bent it something like the 

 shape of the letter U, and pulled the skin (wrong"side out) 

 onto the stick, stretching it very nicely. The skins, after 

 salting and drying, we sold for about twelve to fifteen cents 

 each. We left the boat down there, and Jim went down 



afterward with a horse and wagon and got 'it. The next 

 morning I began to realize that there mig'ht be. something 

 wrong at school, so all the way there I was turning over in 

 my imagination what might occur in the "scene that ensued." 

 I was pleased at the idea'of the teacher being so foolish as to 

 "tackle" me with intent to whip me (almost as large again as 

 he was), and the more I thought of it the more pleased I 

 was. 



It was well (as the Irishman said about the bull), that I 

 did my laughing before hand. 



Arriving at the school-house and going through the regular 

 morning exercises, the teacher inquired about my where- 

 abouts the day before. I told him where I had been and 

 began to explain what a glorious time it, was for rats, but ho 

 did not seem to be very enthusiastic upon the subject of gun- 

 ning, and he refreshed my memory with his promise to chas- 

 tise me. I objected and took exceptions on the ground that 

 did he attempt it, I would pitch him through the window, 

 sash and all. The words were hardly out of my mouth be- 

 fore I found myself upon the floor, and with the "ruler" 

 rapidly vibrating with a violent vertical motion upon a par- 

 ticularly fleshy part of my person. I will draw the curtain. 



Iron Ramrod. 



Somjsrvillb, Maa 



DIVINING RODS. 



YOUR late correspondence about divining rods has re- 

 called to my mind an experience of boyhood's days. 



When about fifteen years of age, my brother, two years 

 younger, whispered to me one day that he was about to be- 

 come rich by coming into possession of some old gold coin, 

 and if I could keep a secret he would try and work me in 

 for a share. Of course I promised to do so, and also to 

 render all the assistance in my power by digging for the 

 hidden treasure wherever it might be buried. He said that 

 down by the lake he had met a strange man with a divining 

 rod, who inquired of him if he had ever heard of money 

 being buried about there. My brother remembered hearing 

 that an old sea captain, who formerly lived five miles up the 

 lake, was supposed to have been a pirate in his early life, 

 that he had brought home a large amount of specie, and 

 fearing that justice' would find him out, had buried it near 

 the lake shore in a large iron pot under a maple tree ; that he 

 had never told where, but on his death bed had tried hard to 

 point out the spot, but was unable to do so. The man with 

 the rod assured my brother that if he could be landed any- 

 where in that vicinity the rod would draw him at once to 

 the treasure. My brother volunteered to guide him to that 

 neighborhood for a share in the contents of the pot, which 

 was generously offered. They had walked down there on a 

 hot August day, and located the spot with little difficultv. 

 The ground was very hard and stony, and being in plain 

 view of the neighboring farm house the digging could only 

 be done after sundown, (for fear the farmer would come down 

 and claim the pot after we had unearthed it). So I was 

 taken into the company the day after their return, and, like 

 all boys at that uneasy age, wa's delighted with the prospect 

 of adventure and fortune now before me. The diviner 

 showed me his two rods, one to draw in a horizontal direction, 

 the other toward the earth. He assured me that he could go 

 into the city of Auburn blindfolded, and, taking his rod in 

 either hand, could go direct to the banks or any place where 

 there was any amount of specie. I got my" uncle's gold 

 watch to see the rod attracted, but it wouldn't attract in any 

 person's hand but the diviners. I finally made a confident 

 of mj- dear old uncle, (who was a boy with us always) and 

 taking our boat, with picks and shovels, we started a little 

 before sundown for the gold. Uncle said he had no faith in 

 the rods, but would stand guard to warn us of visitors while 

 we were digging. 



Waiting under the maple until the sun was down we went 

 to work with a wdl and soon had quite an excavation ; fear- 

 ful, however, that the farmer who owned the land would 

 claim the pot after we had unearthed it. The ground grew 

 very hard and stony as we proceeded, and Uncle remarked 

 that it hadn't been moved since the Flood. We had already 

 reached the depth the diviner said was necessary to reach the 

 treasure, and no signs of the old pot. The evening was very 

 warm and there began to be "signs" of a coming thunder 

 shower. 



Resting from our labors we were a little startled by a 

 rustling in the bushes near the fence, and presently there 

 appeared something taller than a man and "all in white," 

 and which we could dimly make out to be standing motion- 

 less as a statue and evidently looking us over. The diviner 

 whispered that it was the owner of the land and requested 

 Uncle to go and speak with him. He went toward the 

 apparition, which did not move, and soon returning said in 

 a very solemn voice that if we had any message to send 

 home, or the diviner a prayer to make, we must improve the 

 few minutes that were allowed us to do so. The diviner 

 inquired, "Is it any one you know?" and his voice shook 

 audibly, and my brother and I, although beginning to sus- 

 pect a trick, were quite a little frightened by his manner. 

 All this time the image in white stood staunch as an old 

 pointer. 



We looked at one another and it had grown so dark that 

 our features could hardly he distinguished^ but still we could 

 plainly see our visitor in white, and also see that he was 

 drawing near. The diviner hastily gathered up his rods and 

 coat and was ready to take flight When I caught hold of 

 Uncle's hand and asked him, "What is it?" In a hoarse 

 whisper he replied, "The fool-killer, and you better get to 

 your boat as soon as possible." We gathered up our tools 

 and clothing, and as the rain began to patter among us we. 

 had some excuse for haste. The diviner leading the way we 

 soon reached the shore, pursued by our relentless enemy, 

 which we soon made out to be an old white horse. Turning 

 our boat bottom up we crawled under and waited until the 

 shower passed, when we rowed home. The diviner refused 

 our invitation to take a bed for the night, and said he would 

 lie on the hay in the barn. We. looked for him early in the 

 morning, but have never seen or heard of him since. 



Novice. 



MOTTVILLE, N. Y. 



Shooting for Chicago Sportsmen. — The Chicago man 

 who wishes ducking grounds other than those about South 

 Chicago can be posted if he will consult Mr Fred, Gould or 

 Mr. Willard Shinton of Valparaiso, Ind. Within a two 

 hours' ride of the town just mentioned the writer was taken 

 to excellent fly-aways by Mr. Stanton, and, by-the-bye, had 

 on the same trip the best snipe, shooting he ever enjoyed. 

 There are several places on the Kankakee that are easy of 

 access from Valparaiso, Ind,, and should not either of the 

 above-named gentlemen direct, others in the town could, — 

 Homo. 



