284 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May 11, 1882,. 



Vm DOES GAME-PROTECTION PAY? 



Editor Forest and Stream : 



TT has been asserted that the game which lives and breeds 

 in the forests of Maine is an important sourcfe of revenue 

 to many of the citizens of that State. This assertion is. 

 doubtless, accepted as true by all who hear it, but often with 

 only a vague idea of its force, and of the facts upon which it 

 is based, and that too by the very persons who most often 

 make the assertion. I herewith submit a few statistics, com- 

 piled and arranged with care that they might rather under- 

 state than overstate the average amount of money which is 

 brought into the State for each moose, caribou and deer 

 killed there during the summer season by tourists. The 

 region covered by my figures is reached "most easily via- 

 Bangor, and includes Moosehead Lake, the two branches of 

 the Peuobacot River, the Allagash Eiver, and tributaries of 

 all of them, an area greater perhaps than one-half the total 

 area of wild lands in Maine visited by sportsmen for their 



The table gives the results of a series of tours made by 

 thirteen gentlemen, cither alone or accompanied by one or 

 more friends, and includes all of the tours ever made by 

 them, together with all of the moose, deer, and caribou ever 

 snot by them in Maine. For present purposes I shall confine 

 myself largely to the moose. The reader will then be able 

 to judge for himself how much the force of the argument is 

 lessened by including in my calculations the other members 

 of the deer family. It must be remembered that deer are 

 found in greater numbers and in many more accessible places 

 than in Northern Maine, while the range of the moose in the 

 United States is now confined almost exclusively to a small 

 section of that State. It may also be taken for granted that 

 the majority of tourists, or "sportsmen," would give vastly 

 more to be able to shoot a moose than they would to shoot a 

 deer or a caribou. 



I have gathered the facts herein set forth from such of my 

 friends as could be reached conveniently, autl their figures 

 are in many cases taken from the record. In others they are 

 approximate only, but are believed to be very nearly'correct. 

 I am convinced that if statistics could be had of all tours 

 made through the Maine forests by sportsmen and others, in 

 search of fish, game and recreation, they would show a 

 much greater /atio of money spent to game taken than is 

 shown by the following 



table of tours made rn stasis between the yeabs 

 1868 and 1881. 





8 



IS 



1 

 1 • 



a. 



— K 



a ? 





Large game 





2 





1 



f? 



f 



a 



A.... 



3 



9 



5 



78 



$344 00 



$712 58 



1 calf-moose 

 1 deer. 



B.... 



a 



5 



5 



as 



331 oo 



53100 



None. 



C... 



i 



2 



1 



14 



38 50 



157 00 



None. 



D. .. 



10 



15 



12 



140 



462 00 



1,528 00 



None. 



B.... 



5 



48 



24 



101 



l,iiSl 00 



2,880 00 



1 buil-moose. 



F.... 



3 



32 



16 



67 



924 00 



1,920 00 



1 bull-moose. 



G.... 



10 



37 



17 



260 



716 00 



1,820 13 



1 cow-moose. 



H.... 



8 



8 



5 



41 



. 114 00 



402 12 



1 caribou, 2 deer. 

 None. 



I 



6 











? 



Nothing 



380 00 



None. 



J .... 



7 



7 



1 



? 



03 00 



450 00 



None. 



K.... 



10 



13 



4 



150 



175 00 



1,120 00 



2 bull-moose. 



!■.... 



8 



7 



7 



34 



411 00 



843 46 



None. 



M.... 



3 



7 



4 



91 



366 00 



650 00 



1 bull-moose. 



2 caribou, ldeer. 



Total 



bs 



185 



101 



1011 



§5,228 50 



$13,403 29 



7 moose, 4 cari- 

 bou, 4 deer. 



From the above it appears that in 13 years 65 tours have 

 been made by the parties mentioned, which is equivalent to 

 one tour by each of them in each of 5 successive years. In 5 

 years then these parties spend an aggregate of 1,000 days in 

 the woods, employ 100 guides, pay them $5,000, expend 

 altogether in the State over $13,000, and kill 7 moose, 4 

 caribou and 4 deer. At this rate they would in 1 year spend 

 200 days in the woods, employ .90 guides, pay them §1,000 

 and leave in Maine $2, 600, and would kill an average of 1.4 

 moose, ,8 caribou and .8 deer! 



Unfortunately the means are not at hand of estimating 

 with any degree of accuracy the number of sportsmen who 

 visit the Moosehead region annually, either absolutely or as 

 compared with the number of such as visit all other wild re- 

 gions of Maine. It is almost beyond doubt, however, that 

 this number increases from year to year, and if some method 

 could be devised to ascertain it, even approximately, for 

 each season hereafter, the result would douotlt ias he produc- 

 tiveof good. The force of the above figures is; however, in 

 no degree lessened by omitting these larger comparisons. 



Let us now see how much two enterprising hunters get 

 from a month's work in the early spring on the moose- 

 grounds. Fdttr instances have been known in recent, years 

 where parties of two hunters each ha\ e thus taken, out of season 

 an average of 20 moose per party. Suppose the carcasses of 

 20 moose weigh 12,0001bs. dressed, and Unit half of this meat 

 —a large portion — is sold at logging-camps and elsewhere at 

 6 cents per pouud] Tho profit would be $360. The hides, 



if saved and brought to market, would [bring $10 each, or 

 $200 more— $560 in all. Deducting $60 for expenses, we 

 have $250 as the net profits of each man. 



According to our table, 20 moose, if killed by tourists in 

 one season, would bring into the State, over $37,000, and dis- 

 tribute among 286 guides $14,300, or $50 per man! 



The moose killed by tourists arc in a great majority of 

 cases bulls, for reasons not necessary to state. The "crust- 

 hunter, " on the contrary, is likely to kill as many cows as 

 bulls, for he comes upon and exterminates entire "yards" of 

 these creatures, in which the females are apt to predominate. 

 Now, 20 moose, of which the majority are females, if un- 

 molested by the professional hunter during the close season, 

 ought in 5 years to increase by reproduction so as to number 

 100 by the end of that time. 



Suppose we allow 10 per cent, for decrease from natural 

 causes, and 20 per cent, for decrease from hunting by pro- 

 fessionals at legitimate seasons, our herd would still contain 

 70. Of this number 50 bulls and cows might be shot by 

 tourists in 5 years, and, by the same figures as before, their 

 capture would bring into Maine over $90,000, distribute 

 among the guides over $35,000 of that sum, and still leave a 

 nucleus of 20 moose to keep the supply good for generations 

 to come, or until the forests of Maine shall have become 

 farms and the moose driven away for want of shelter, -which 

 may a kind Providence prevent! In a word then, two 

 hunters destroy in one month, at a profit of $500 to them- 

 selves, a serf-perpetuating source of income, which, if pro- 

 tected, would yield to them and their brother-guides $7,000, 

 and to other citizens of their State $11,000 yearly, for an 

 indefinite time. 



To place my deductions beyond criticism, I know I should 

 include caribou and deer in them, not, however, at the rate 

 of four of each of the latter to seven moose, because deer 

 and caribou are very little hunted for their hides, in the 

 Moosehead region at least. As • previously intimated, it is 

 difficult to form any estimate of the exact value of game as 

 an incentive to tourists to bring their money into Maine, 

 and of any one kind of game as compared with another. I 

 prefer to leave the matter to the general reader in the hope 

 that additional facts may be elicited on the subject. 



Not only is the game of Maine an attraction to very many 

 of her visitors, but the fish is equally so, to perhaps a larger 

 number of persons, and when we reckon, in our calculations, 

 the number of fishermen who come annually to Maine's trout- 

 streams, and the families they bring with them, to remain at 

 convenient localities near by, the income thus derived by the 

 people of the State must swell into thousands and thousands 

 or dollars annually. 



This subject is almost limitless, but leads invariably to 

 one conclusion; that if communities on the borders of the 

 game-lands have their own interests and prosperity at heart, 

 they will see the necessity of preserving this source of 

 revenue for the general good, and not allow it to be selfishly 

 destroyed for the benefit of a few. I sincerely hope that 

 others who have a greater pecuniary interest in the subject 

 than myself may succeed in their efforts to induce a hearty 

 co-operation in the enactment of proper game-laws, and make 



provision for their rigid enforcement. 



Cambridge, Mass., April 28, 1882. 



Lucius L. Htjbbabd. 



Philadelphia's "Jack." — Our readers may perhaps re- 

 call the account published in this journal some time ago of 

 "Jack," the English railway dog. It now appears that 

 Philadelphia has just lost a well-known canine character of 

 the same name, whose penchant for riding quite won the 

 affections of a number of the street car drivers and con- 

 ductors. Jack made his appearance some ten years ago 

 on one of the Lancaster avenue cars, and being kindly 

 treated by the employes of the road, soon became an habit- 

 ual rider on the cars to and from the depot. One 

 ■very curious thing was that the dog would never ride 

 on any other cars than those from the Lancaster depot, 

 and he never made a mistake, even when many other 

 cars were in line. During his ten years of service as a street- 

 car dog, Jack had met with a number^of accidents. He was 

 "laid up" with a broken leg six times; suffered numerous 

 other like hardships, and at last met an ignoble end at the 

 hand of some assassin. Jack was found the other morning 

 shot and killed. His skin has been stuffed, to stand in state 

 over the depot entrance; and the conductors and drivers 

 have taken up a collection to go for a reward for the appre- 

 hension of his assassin. 



Camping Out.— The dealers tell us that people do not 

 camp out now so much as formerly. They infer that this is 

 so because the demand for camping utensils is not what it 

 used to be. This is easily accounted for by the increased 

 number of hotels and boarding-houses in some of the great 

 hunting grounds where formerly it was necessary to camp. 

 There are very many more hotels and lodges in the Adiron- 

 dacks, at the Eaugeleys, in Florida, and elsewhere, than 

 there were five years ago. The tourist who has tried camp- 

 ing out once is much inclined to go to a hotel afterwards, if 

 he can find One to go to. This is, in fact, the most sensible 

 thing to do. 



Eifle Shooting has made such progress of late years 

 that the experts are now calling for more finely graduated 

 A letter on the subject will be found elsewhere. 



k "a 

 ;ame. 



r M Mp m 'tenx<m ^ouri^L 



DUCK FLOATING ON THE BIGBY. 



ONE Indian summer day in South Alabama 1 to 

 float" on the Bigby Kiver for ducks and other 

 A float is a trip (down stream, of course) in a skiff or open 

 boat, the edges of which are so stuck around with switch- 

 cane that its inmates are concealed from view, while they 

 can see out on every side. 



My guide on this occasion was Kirk, of Martin's Ferry, a 

 woodsman and hunter skilled in the use of paddle and oar. 

 Poor Kirk has long lain in the grave, a victim of the swamp 

 fever, by the side of the river he loved so well, and this no- 

 tice of him will remind many a true sportsman of his merits 

 as a hunter. Kirk was waiting for me at the river, his skiff 

 was ready, and with his assurance that the "river was just 

 alive with ducks," I took my seat in the bow. where I was 

 to handle the guns while my guide steered the boat. Kirk 

 had only bis rifle lying near him, while I had two guns, a 

 heavy and a light one, the latter to kill the crippled game. 

 We were to float down until we met Captain Ham and his 

 little steamer, the Clara, when we were to be taken aboard 

 with our boat and carried back to our place of embarkation. 

 I obeyed my guide's injunction to "keep a sharp lookout," 

 I closely scanned the river below me as it lay glistening in 

 the morning's sunlight; with my spyglass 1 looked under 

 the overhanging willows and into the little nooks and cor- 

 ners along the shore. Verv soon a fine flock of mallards 

 emerged from under the willow that had hidden them from 

 our view. One by one they came out, and gazed without 

 any signs of fright at the green floating mass that our boat 

 appeared to be. As soon as the plumage of these birds was 

 plain, and the bright emerald green of the drakes,' lei,;., 

 was distinct (for by this time the cuirent had silently carried 

 us near to them) I with one barrel on the water 'and the 

 other on the wing, killed seven of these fine fowls and re- 

 ceived most gracefully the compliments of Kirk upon my 

 skill. All sportsmen know how animating a good beginning 

 is in a day's sport, and how the expectation of killing more 

 game leuds a keener zest to the pursuit. So it was with us 

 as the gentle Bigby bore us down its current to as glorious a 

 day's shooting as ever fell to mortal lot. More mallards 

 swam out from under willows, and so many were killed that 

 the bottom of our boat was covered, and 1 was covered, too, 

 with Kirk's compliments. I made quick double shots right 

 and left as the ducks rose from the water and hardly missed 

 one, and capped the climax of Kirk's good opinion by call- 

 ing his attention to two ducks thirty feet apart, promising to 

 kill both at one shot on the wing, which I did in spite of his 

 assertion that "it can't be did." 



By this time we had arrived at Camber's, an old bachelor 

 who lived on the river, and Kirk warns me not to shoot 

 Camber's pet puddle ducks that are "allcrs a swimmin' 

 round where they've no bisness," which advice nearly lost 

 for me two mallard drakes, that a sharp curve in the river 

 brought toour view; but Kirk had just time to say "they 

 ain't his'n," and I just time to make two snap shots. 



Below Camber's, where the river was eddy, the sharp, 

 brown nose of a beaver was thrust up above the water's sur- 

 face, and his curiosity was rewarded by a load of B B shot. 

 The beaver sunk out of sight, leaving 'the water red with 

 blood. My guide told me he would soon rise, but not to fin 

 until he told me. In a few seconds the animal slowly row 

 to the surface and swam to the shore. As he crawled up on 

 the bank I obeyed my companion's order "to fire," and 

 killed the beaver. Before the smoke of my gun had cleared 

 away a quick stroke of the paddle carried "the skiff to land, 

 when leaping out Kirk seized the beaver, preventintr bis 

 rolling into the water, and threw it into our boat. 



Of all modes of locomotion that of glidi ug down the smooth 

 current of a river in an open boat is the most delightful; it 

 soothes the senses and quiets the nerves in a way indescrib- 

 able. Softly floating down the current of that river so rich 

 in Indian lore, with a sky overhead like Italy's, 1 thought of 

 the dusky old chiefs Tombecbec and Tishabec, whose names 

 "are on our waters still," whose, hunters' shout made these 

 grand old woods ring. These red men, like me, once drank 

 in the beauty of this scene, Where the mock-orange trees 

 bloomed and the golden water-grass kissed the river's edge, 

 while visions of the happy hunting grounds came to them.' 

 We reached Houston's Island, where hundreds of ducks 

 were feeding, a sight to gladden any sportsman's heart, as 

 their bright plumage glistened in the sun. Here Kirk by 

 skillful paddling brought me into close range, and more vic- 

 tims fell to our guns. Here on tlris island, my guide tells, is 

 where Sam Bowe the bar-keeper, with his little Winches- 

 ter, killed his big buck from the deck of the boat, whose 

 horns ornament the boat, and upon which horns Sam "hangs 

 many a tale" for the amusement of the passengers. 



We drifted along under the high white cliffs of Bluff Port, 

 and just below Kirk discovered standing on the heights a 

 flock of turkeys. W r e allowed our boat to float directly 

 under them, so as to be concealed, then my companion went 

 ashore, took off his shoes and tied his rifle to his back with 

 his suspenders, and ascended the cliff in a zig-zag fashion. 

 Almost as soon as he reached the top the sharp crack of the 

 rifle told the doom of a big gobbler that was thrown down 

 to me. Kirk's gobbler took away all appetite for killing 

 mallards, but not for lunch, so we kindled a lire and fell 

 upon our eatables with a hearty zest, while 1 was entertained 

 with hunting stories. We got adrift again unit floated lazily 

 on, not caring much for the ducks that we would sometimes 

 drift upon so noiselessly that we would catch them 

 upon logs wii.h l heir heads tucked under their wiug=. Our 

 boat was nearly full, and often we did not disturb the slum- 

 bers of the solitary old drake as he enjoyed his siesta on a 

 log. 



As we pass Spring Bluff we hear the mellow notes of 

 Steve Brown's horn vainly endeavoring to call back his 

 dogs from the pursuit of a deer. The deer's crossing place 

 on the river was only a quarter of a mile below, and Kirk 

 took his place quickly in the middle of the boat, seized his oars 

 and pulled hard and' fast that we might intercept him. We 

 were just in time to see a big buck take to water, and a few 

 pulls on the oars brought us in range of him. Kirk threw 

 up his rifle, took steady aim and fired but only wounded 

 him. We could travel faster than the deer in water, and the 

 skiff was soon alongside of the deer, and Kirk took him by 

 the horns. A deer sinks like lead when shot dead in water, 

 and we had to mancuvre well to get him to the shore. Kirk 

 proposed to mount and ride him ashore, as we were lowed 

 along, but to this I objected, thinking it best to gain a little 

 time for Brown's dogs to come. The dogs soonarnved, and 

 seeing the situation of things swam out to our assistance; 



