FOREST AND STREAM 
249 
the heat caused by the friction makes it both smooth and 
uniform. The entire string should occasionally be waxed 
and rubbed in this manner. The object in inserting the 
floss silk is, that there may be a distinguishing mark on 
which the arrow should be nocked. The best of strings 
will, at first, stretch a little; consequently, the different 
o-radations on that part of the lapping where the floss silk 
appears, will point out exactly the proper place for the suc¬ 
ceeding arrow when it has been ascertained from the flight 
of the previous one. The space of an inch will allow for 
any little alterations of the string. 
The best strings are imported from Germany and Brus¬ 
sels, and it is good economy always to buy the best. 
An archer should always have with him, when engaged 
in shooting, a spare string, previously lapped, and adjusted 
to the length of his bow. 
(To be continued.) 
-- 
Important to Yachtmen. —The attention of owners of 
steam yachts is called to the importance of embodying in 
the new steamboat inspection laws some exemptions in 
favor of steam yachts and launches. As the law now 
stands, they are liable to severe penalties for not complying 
with requirements that neither their size or character ren¬ 
der proper, and in the Southern States a number of smaT 
exploring and pleasure boats have been abandoned because 
of the oppressions of a law designed for large vessels, car¬ 
rying for hire. An immediate effort will undoubtedly se¬ 
cure such amendments as will encourage the use of steam 
launches, and enable explorers and sportsmen to use them 
with a reasonable economy, and free them from needless 
legal red tape and embarrassment. For instance, the re¬ 
quirement that a boat, however small, must carry an engi¬ 
neer, captain, and pilot—no one man to hold two licenses, 
and these licenses costing $10 each, and a good deal of 
trouble—is one that is unreasonable when applied to a small 
boat, where one man is competent to do all about the en¬ 
gine, and the owner can steer, taking his own risk now and 
then of getting on a sand bar. There is no real reason why 
a boat carrying no persons for hire should he under any 
more restrictions than a sail boat, in which people are per¬ 
mitted to drown themselves with the-main sheet tied, and 
no licensed sailor on board. Sportsmen cannot carry so 
many men on small yachts and launches. There is neither 
need nor room for them, and it may be presumed that any 
person owning a craft of the kind will, for his own com¬ 
fort and safety, exercise the same high degree of care and 
skill that distinguish sportsmen, yachtmen, and horsemen 
in their guns, boats, and equippage. Hon. W. E. Lansing, 
M. C. of Madison and Oswego counties, is giving the 
matter thought and consideration, and other members 
should be called upon by persons interested. 
Schahmyl’s Rifle. —We had shown to us yesterday a 
very remarkable arm, said to have belonged to the famous 
Schahmyl, the Circassian Chief. It is a rifle some forty-six 
inches long in the barrel, the total length of the gun being 
four feet eight inches. The stock is the pistol form: the 
primitive shape used by Europeans some three hundred 
years ago, and still followed by the Chinese and Arabs. 
The muzzle of the piece you can almost turn your thumb in. 
The barrel is rifled. A peculiar flint lock, with a knob for 
a trigger, is in keeping with the general character of the 
piece. The stock is of handsome w T ood and is ornamented 
with ivory. The history of the arm is as follows:—Herr 
Otto Gropius, sent by the Emperor of Russia to superintend 
silk culture in the Caucassus, having been present at the 
surrender of Schahmyl, the fallen Chieftain, gave his rifle 
to Mr. Gropius, who brought it to the United States. This 
rifle should be highly prized by arm-collectors. 
-- 
Our Special Representative in England. —We are 
pleased to inform our readers and the public that we have 
secured as our correspondent in England, Frank C. Pearce, 
Esq., the son of the celebrated “Idstone,” whose letters and 
papers to the London Field and the author of the work on 
the “Dog,” have been read with so much pleasure by all 
our American field sportsmen. We shall receive from Mr. 
PeaTce a weekly letter touching upon the more important 
topics of the day and prominent events tlipfl take place in 
Great Britain, relating to the horse, the rifle, the shot gun, 
the dog, aquatic, and athletic pastimes, etc. 
-- 
Lake Superior and the Nepigon. —In our advertising 
columns to-day will be found an announcement of the 
opening of Lake Superior navigation for the season. It 
contains imformation respecting the routes of travel and 
the chief points of interest to the tourist and angler, which 
we trust will save us the trouble of answering many ques¬ 
tions respecting this wilderness paradise. The steamers 
are staunch and well provisioned, and the captains are 
courteous, and know their duty. We have tested three of 
them, and can testify. We know of several parties who 
are booked for the Hepigon. 
-««»»-- 
Between French and English, or the Chassepot 
AKd the Snider. —In April last, the Volunteer Service Ga- 
zette tells us, an impromptu match was made between some 
sailors of the French corvette Indre, and some of the Leith 
volunteers, ten men on a side. The distance was 200 yards, 
fifteen shots each, and the shooting was^done in a fog. The 
Trench tars were nowhere—Leith team, 387; French team, 
157. The worst shot among the Englishmen made tliirty- 
two, while the best of the Frenchmen made only twent.y- 
aine. The Chassepot, according to the English accounts, 
after a half dozen shots became clogged, with parts of the 
cartridge case remaining in the bore. 
-___ 
—Watermelons are now being shipped to the north trom 
South Florida. 
SPORT ANCIENT AND MODERN. 
[From onr Special Correspondent.] 
P OOR old Joe Manton! how he would stare if he was 
handed one of his own pairs of barrels neatly mount¬ 
ed as a snap action breech loader without a ramrod, with¬ 
out flint, and without steel!- How delighted would be Sir 
Lucius O’Trigger or other knights of the pistol, with self- 
cocking revolvers and those charming little Derringers in 
lieu of their flasli-in-the-pan duelling irons. My old grand¬ 
father, they tell me, used to take out half a score of 
clumbers, and a man to work them in a green plush coat, 
and bring home two pheasants and a dozen woodcock, and 
think he had had a good day, while at the last battue his 
grandson saw 957 head, all told, laid out on the lawn at the 
close of the day without either surprise or satisfaction. 
We have done with bear baiting for. good and all, and as 
to bull baiting, there is not at this present moment a bull 
in England artful enough to scrape a hole in the ground, 
to clap his nose so as to oppose no vulnerable part of his 
person to the sharp fangs of the Staffordshire brindled bull 
dogs. We no longer hear of babies being defrauded of 
their natural sustenance for the sake of favorite pups in a 
weakly condition, and badger tongs and man traps are in¬ 
cluded in the category of old iron. As a class, sportsmen 
in England are growing every day more refined and more 
humane. Mr. Freeman-, anxious for notoriety, may rave 
about'fox hunting, and spatter with mud the scarlet coats 
of the devotees of this time honored British sport, but as 
old Evans the huntsman once said, “The hounds like it, 
the horses like it, the men like it, and no one ever proved 
to me yet that the fox don’t like it.” Since Sampson, of 
Biblical repute, introduced it, it has flourished,, and will 
continue to do so whilst princes of the royal blood ride to 
hounds, and ride well, too, and I had nearly said whilst 
there is a freeman in England. We have certainly not 
only revolutionized sport and guillotined barbarity, but we 
have also, in some respects, made it more scientific. Look 
at our ancestors’ old portraits. I have one in my “sanc¬ 
tum” as I write. A tall, thin, spare old fellow he is, with 
a gun as long as himself, and quite as antiquated. I sus-' 
pect “Egg” made it, but it is certainly not “new laid.” His 
hat is what the demoiselles call “a Rousby,” from the 
name of that pretty and fashionable actress, and it would 
look well in the present day over the chestnut plaits and 
well rouged cheeks of a Haymarket beauty, or with the 
stockings and breeches of a High Church dean. His coat 
is long fore and aft, and something between a southwester 
and a swell’s dress garments, and as likely to be well ven¬ 
tilated by t]^ brambles as my last silk handkerchief was 
which a country laundress hung out to dry on a furze bush. 
Heh?sayoung chatelaine full of seals hung at his fob, 
is all overshot pouches and powder horns, whilst his nether 
man comes out in top boots. Altogether, the “get up” is 
as peculiar as that of the Heathen Chinee, and, neither 
useful nor ornamental, calculated to stand hard wear, or to 
give that sporting appearance which French “chasseurs” 
are so fond of. How we have discarded breeches and tops 
as out of place most anywhere, save over the smallest of 
knees and feet when in the saddle. Breech loaders and 
cartridges have superseded the cumbrous appendages of 
flasks and loading rods, and we haven’t got to fumble with 
frozen fingers for a percussion cap, which won’t go off 
when we get it. Yet I must not be too fast, for I see that 
at the last pigeon match at Hotting Hill, in the optional 
sweepstakes for the cup, Viscount Stormont, Captain Digby 
Boycott, Captain Gist, and eight other gentlemen, not nec¬ 
essarily of the “old school,” still stuck to the mediaeval 
muzzle loader. But Captain Starkey won with a central 
fire, and Mr. S. E. Shirley, M. P., chairman of the Kennel 
Club, w r as third, having killed all his six birds in the first 
round. If pigeon shooting and battues are cruel, they are 
very mild compared to the cock fighting of fifty years ago. 
There may be reason in chiding at such an institution as 
the “Welsh Main,” where the ties were fought off till one 
bird alone was left alive out of all the gallant black hearted 
reds and orange duckwings whiclYhacked at one another’s 
throats till their spurs were dyed in scarlet and their bodies 
riddled with stabs. The Cockpit Royal at St. James, in 
1796, was an institution far better patronized, and boasting 
a more aristocratic attendance than the present British Mu¬ 
seum, the Royal Academy, or the Countess of Derby’s 
levees. Here all met on perfect equality. The peer shook 
hands with the jockey, and the gentleman of high degree 
laid his guineas against the dirty notes of the “fowl” breed¬ 
ers and horse copers. As Lord Henry Bentinck said about 
the turf, “on it and under it all men are equal,” so in the 
cockpit the love of sport broke down the trammels of con¬ 
ventionality. The seats were arranged like those of an 
ampitheatre, with a “chaplet” of candles over the raised 
arena where the birds were pitted against one another. 
Hogarth’s picture portrays the scene as only his master 
hand could do it. I have not an engraving by me, but well 
remember that the shadow of a man in a basket, who has 
been suspended to the ceiling for not paying his debts of 
honor, is cast on the floor of the pit. You cannot see him, 
but the shadowed hand holds out the shadow of a watch 
and chain, and you are left to conjecture by one of Ho¬ 
garth’s strange scintillations of wit that the prisoner, in his 
wicker cage, is offering his “ticker” as a last stake. There 
were two very celebrated game fowl men in those days—a 
certain Mr. Brooks! ank and a Mr. Oates. The latter owned 
a very noted black breasted bird named Mendoza, and the 
former a red dun called Daredevil. Indeed, it was said in 
a doggerel couplet of the day— 
Would Brooksbank breed, and Oates but feed, 
Thus forming true alliance, 
At all the sod they’d laugh and nod, 
And bid the world defiance. 
There was a good deal of art in putting on a cock’s spur 
properly, or, if required, improperly, for they had not 
much objected even then to “rope a horse” or “fight a 
cross.” Unless the hollow silver “bayonet” was adjusted 
at the proper angle the bird might as well be padded, for 
he could not hit his antagonist, and was bound to lose. 
The unscrupulous knew this well, and used it to their own 
advantage. Sometimes the offensive weapons were of steel, 
but the wounds inflicted were supposed not to heal as 
readily as when made by the virgin metal. It is lucky that 
poultry shows have been invented, and though the chanti¬ 
cleer tribe now contend by display of form and plumage 
for the cups which they before won by pluck and strength, 
yet it is a good thing to keep up the breeds which were 
originated at nearly as much trouble, if not expense, as the 
ancestors of the English race horse. 
In 1760 an attempt was actually made to introduce the 
hunting leopard, or cheetah, into England. Lord Pigot, 
at the instance of the Duke of Cumberland, turned out one 
of these beasts against an old red deer in Windsor Great 
Park. This sport smacks more of the cruel and sensual 
Indian Rajah than the European sportsman, and it didn’t 
meet with much success. On the occasion I refer to it was 
a signal failure. It was tlm Ascot race week, and the nov¬ 
elty attracted a large crowd of spectators, amongst them 
being even some ladies of quality. A proper space was 
fenced in with strong netting about fifteen feet high by the 
road side, into which the old stag was turned, and shortly 
after the tiger was lead in, hoodwinked, by two black ser¬ 
vants, and then set at liberty. He crawled towards the stag 
like a cat after a mouse, watching for an opportunity of 
safely seizing his prey. The stag was, however, too cau¬ 
tious and crafty to be had that way, and wisely and warily 
turned as he turned, placing his shortTirow antlers close to 
the ground, ready to give his strange antagonist as good as 
he sent. He in fact quite outgeneraled the tiger, who could 
only leap on a fine collection of keen spikes and points, 
and didn’t seem to see it in that light. After a good deal 
of sparring, His Royal Highness, who was never noted 
either for forbearance or humanity, requested the niggers 
to urge the cowardly leopard on to the attack, evidently 
thinking it was time he saw a little claret uncorked. This 
they attempted to do, and succeeded so well that the tiger 
bolted over the palisade and “went for” the people, who, 
having no brow antlers, fled like doves from a hawk. The 
tiger was as much alarmed as they, and continued his head¬ 
long course till he came on a herd of harmless fallow 
deer, whereupon he sprang on an unfortunate straggler and 
brought it down. He was soon secured by his keepers and 
rehoodwinked, but I have not heard of any more of this 
Indian pastime, so I presume it died out. 
As to the setters and pointers of our ancestors, there is 
indeed a change for the better. I do not believe they stud¬ 
ied “backing” in the least, and they had but imperfect 
ideas of “pointing.” In most pictures the dogs used for 
snipes, partridges, or pheasants, and even wild duck, are 
chump headed, bob tailed spaniels, who are rushing, open 
mouthed, at their game, and appear almost to catch it. As 
to hounds, we may have lost staunchness, but we have cer¬ 
tainly gained in speed, both in horse and hound, since first 
“A cry more tuneable 
Was never halloed to nor cheered with horn.” 
Our horses’ ears and tails we do not crop and dock as of 
yore, and though I still think that a spaniel’s and fox ter¬ 
rier’s stern should be shortened, and that bull terriers 
should have cut ears, yet in all other breeds I recognize the 
truth of the observation of the author of “The Dogs” when 
he says that “the Almighty never made his work for man 
to mend.” 
I see you rather assail the Scotch commission offices in 
an article in to-day’s Forest and Stream. I am no habitue 
of the race course, and I seldom if ever lay out more than 
a modest “fiver” on the Derby; still, though I am no gam¬ 
bler, I think you are hard on the commission agencies. The 
men who conduct them—Valentine & Wright, and George 
Crook, for instance—are as honest as the day, and their 
word and the word of most of our principal 'bookmakers 
may be taken for tens of thousands. They are a great deal 
straighter in settling up than many of the merchants and 
tradespeople of commercial life. Bookmaking on the turf 
is not really gambling at all. It is a tolerably safe and 
somewhat scientific pursuit, and nothing like stockbroking 
and other speculations. The men who gamble are the 
“plungers,” who back hcrses to win. As Admiral Rous, 
the greatest authority on the horse, except, perhaps, Sir 
Joseph Hawley, says, “Racing would not last a year with¬ 
out betting.” 
Verily our legislature has put down real gambling— 
namely, card playing—with a strong hand. Where are 
now those pretty, innocent retreats of hawks and pigeons, 
where the lamps flared fiercely over the board of green 
cloth, and the gold, piled mountain high, as we see it in 
Frith’s picture of “The Last Sunday,” changed hands every 
minute as the fickle goddess waved her wand k over red or 
black! Here or there, in some sequestered alley, still flour¬ 
ishes a solitary “silver hell,” but the glories of the faro 
banks, where duchesses swindled dukes, and young nobles 
flung life and honor away at the cast of a die, have de¬ 
parted indeed. I do not suppose there is a sharper left in 
England capable of^“eating a card,” or performing the 
trick of “muter le m,” for the light-fingered gentry are in 
