402 



FOREST AND STREAM, 



(June 19, 1884. 



tye ^parhnjm %ontip. 



UNCLE LISHA'S SHOP. 



THOUGH in mid-day there was yet a hazy after-taste of 

 the sweetness of Indian summer, the season was be- 

 ginning to have a smack of winter in its night air. On such 

 an evening, as the first star began to shine above the rounded 

 peak of Tater Hill, Lisha rubbed the mist off a pane of his 

 long, low shop window, and stooping his eye to it peered out 

 upon the darkening road. Out of the gloaming presently 

 grew some dark shapes into men, the sound of whose foot- 

 steps and voices came a little before them. When they and 

 others had entered and been welcomed by Lisha, he having 

 lighted his pipe and taken some work in hand, declared 

 "the meetin' open," and that they "was all ready to tran- 

 sack business." Little was said till some one remarked, 

 "Pwheeew!" And then all became aware that an odor more 

 pungent and powerful than those of leather and shoemaker's 

 wax was pervading the atmosphere of the shop. 



"Good airth an' seas!" cried Lisha, "I secont the motion 1 

 Le's all whew ! Some on ye stepped on euthin' t'night, or 

 somebody got skunk's ile to sell." 



Each took a sniff of his neighbor till the source of the fra- 

 grance was traced to Pelatiah's corner, when he shame- 

 facedly confessed that he "hed ben a trappin' a leetle," but 

 said in extenuation, "I sot fer mink. I hed one trap sot in 

 a holler log over to Hillses'' brook with a raster's head fer 

 bait, an' when I went tew it yist'day the trap was hauled' 

 int' the log. I pulled on the chain c'nsid'able stout, but it 

 didn't le' go a bit, an' then I god daown on all fours an' 

 peeked in to see what the matter was ailded it, an'— O, gosh 

 all Connet'eutt! My eyes haint god done smartin' yit! I 

 rolled an' I tumbled till I got to water, V then I washed an' 

 rubbed an' scrubbed till I c'ld see suthin' 'sides stars and fire, 

 an' then I went hum an' berried all th^m close, an' washed 

 me in three waters an' smudged me with hemlock browse, 

 an', gosh darn it all, I didn't 'spose I wa'n't all sweetened 

 aout! 'F my ccmp'ny haint 'greeable I'll dig fer hum." 



( 'Sho!" Lisha shouted with hearty politeness, "Guess we 

 c'n stan' it 'f you can! 'S fer me, 1 rather like a leetle good 

 fresh skunk parfum'ry. The's some 'at eats 'em" — rolling 

 his eye toward a known mephitipophagist— "an' Ish'dthink 

 them at likes the taste would the smell. Furdermore, I'm 

 beholden to skunks fer c'nsid'able myself. Keep yerself 

 comf 'table, Peltier." 



No one objected to Pelatiah's presence, and several asked 

 Lisha how he was indebted to skunks for anything. 



"Wal," said he, slowly scraping the sole of a boot with a 

 bit of broken glass, while his thoughts went backward over 

 the rough path of his Lfe, "in the fust place, when I was a 

 leetle chap they cured me o' croup with skunk's ile, which 

 they gi'n it ter me spoo'ful arter spoo'ful, an' greesed my 

 stoinerk with it outside tew. An' then arter I'd got growed 

 up, skunk essence cured me of azmy. An' then — I don't 

 scasely b'lieve I'd ha' ever got Jerushy 'f 't hed n't a ben fer 

 a skunk!" 



After the "wal I swan's," and "goshes" and "yeou don't 

 says," which this declaration called forth, there was a general 

 demand for an explanation, and Lisha laid down his boot 

 and glass, and devoted himself wholly to the telling of his 

 story, with his elbows on his knees and locking and unlock- 

 ing his waxy fingers as he talked, as if so he wove the woof 

 of his tale. 



"I never sot no gret on ole folks tellin' of what they'd did, 

 or ben, or hed when 't they was younger, but when jerushy 

 was Jerushy Chase she was 'baout *s pooty a gal as c'ld be 

 dug up in tew three taowns, an' as smart and cap'ble, an' 

 nat'lly she was sought arter, an' none the less cause her 

 father was tol'able well off, When I begin a sparkin' on 

 her, I hed n't nothin' much but my tew hands, was a workin' 

 aout by the month for this one an' that one for six or eight 

 months, an' I'd larnt to shoemake a leetle so 's *t 1 'whipped 

 the cat' winters, so ye see I was arnin' suthin all the time, an' 

 I wa'n't sech a humbly ole critter 's I be naow, so 's 't stood 

 jes 's good a chance as any o' the fellers, till bimeby the' 

 com a chap to teach aour deestrick school, a college feller 

 f m Middlebury. He was a clever creeter, an' smart, an' 

 good natered 'an' hahnsome, c'ld rastle like a bear, 'n' sing 

 like a bobliuk. 'n' wore hahnsome close evey day, so all the 

 gals 'most wus a ravin' an' a ravin' arter him. Jerushy 

 wa'n't, though, an' that made him the faster and fircer arter 

 her. An' so arter a while his pooty talk an' hahnsome close 

 an' all them college things begin to work on her, V she get 

 so 't she'd mos' lives I would n't come Sunday nights as not. 



"So it run along till tow-wards the middle o' sugarin', she 

 a favorin' him a leetle mor'n me of the tew, an' the' was 

 goin' to be a gret sugarin' off to Hillses, 'n' most everybody 

 hed a wivite. I went V ast Jerushy to go 'long with me, 'n' 

 she said she 'didn't know ; guessed she'd go 'long with the one 

 'at come arter her fust,' Thinks sez I, Mr. School marster, 'f 

 you get to Uncle Chase's 'fore I dew, you'll hafter pull foot 

 for it lively. So 'long in the middle o' the art'noon I got my 

 chores all done up, an' dressed me an' off. I put 'crost lots, 

 'n' I hcdn't got fur when darned if I didn't see that 'tarnal 

 school marster jest agoin' int' the aidge o' Meeker's Woods, 

 pintin' for Uncle Chase's, 'n' nearer tew it 'n' I was. I doubled 

 my jumps an' got there, an' tole Jerushy I'd got there fust 'n' 

 she'd got to go 'long with me. She kinder hungoff, lookin'outen 

 the winder every onct an' awhile, but nary a schoolmarster! 

 An' so bimeby she got rigged up an' off we went an' had a 

 gret carummux to the sugarin'. She kep' a-sythin' an' 

 a-peekin' fer a spell, but nary a schoolmarster, an' then she 

 got desput jolly 'n' made more fun 'n the hull toot on 'em. 

 Goin' hum in the moonshine, I ast her to jine me in a 

 sugarin' for life, an' 'fore we got to the chips in the do'yard 

 she 'greed she would, an' here"we be! Me on this 'ere shoe- 

 bench, an' she," lifting his voice and pointing a waxy fore- 

 finger at the door that opened into the kitchen, "an' she 

 a-peekin' through the crack o' that 'ere doorl" The door 

 squeaked suddenly to, and the wooden latch clicked rather 

 spitefully. 



"Wal," said one disappointed auditor, breaking the short 

 ensuing silence, "Wha'd all that hev ter dew with a skunk?" 



"O, nuthin' much," said 'Lisha, "only, ye see that feller 

 was a shovin' 'long the best he knowed, through the woods 

 in a wood road, an' fust thing he run spat ont' a skunk aout 

 takin' a walk. The skunk wouldn't run, an' he wouldn't, 

 an' it turned aout con'try to scriptur. The battle was 

 to the strong, an' the race was to the swift. The school- 

 marster smelt loud 'nough to fill a forty acre lot, an' so the' 

 wa'n't no schoolmarster ta Chases' nor t' the sugarin-off , nor 

 t' the school in that deestrick that spring, nor nothin' left on 

 him in the deestrick but his parfume So ye see, a skunk 



hed suthin' ta dew with his scaseness, which 1 c'nsider my- 

 self c'nsidable beholden to skunks." 



"Bah gosh!" said Antoine, "ah don' f red for skonk, mel 

 Ah tek bol' of it hees tails an' lif ' 'im aup, he can' do some- 

 tings! Nosar!" 



" 'Twouldn't make no diff'ence tew ye if he did," said 

 Lisha, "a skunk's nat'ral weepon haint' nothin' but double 

 d'stilled biled daown essence ox inyuns, 'n ye couldn't hurt 

 a Canuck wi' that." 



"Bah gosh, guess you fin' aout 'f he hurt you, you git him 

 on you heyesight, whedder you Canuck or somebody'. Ant 

 it, Peltiet, hein?" 



Said Solon Briggs, "Might I a-rise to ask you, Antwine, 

 Anthony, or Anto ni-o, all of which I suppose you ter be, 

 haow dew you pervent the aout-squirtin' of the viles o' wrath 

 whilst you air a-proachin'of the mestif orious quadruple head ?" 



"Wal, M'sieu Brigg.dat someting you got t' larn bah— 

 ah— what you call it, pracsit?" 



"Preh8ps Peltier 'd lend ye one o' his'n to practyse on, 

 Solon," Lisha suggested, but Solon expressed no desire to ac- 

 quire the art of capturing skunks by that method. 



"The y ra'ly can't scent when you hoi' 'em up by the tail, 

 'n' that's a fact," said Joseph Hill. "I remember onct when 

 1 was a boy ten 'r dozen year ole — I d'know, mebby I was 

 fourteen— lemme see, 'twas the year 't father hed the brindle 

 caow die 't hed twin calves; got choked with an apple — no 't 

 wa'n't, ' was a tater— they was f o' ye'r oles when he sole 'em, 

 the fall 't I was seventeen — no, I wan't but thirteen — the' 

 was a skunk got int' the suller, 'n' of course we didn't want 

 to kill him there, so my oldest brother, Lije, he took a holt 

 on him by the tail an' kerried him aout the hatchway with 

 a pair o' tongs, an' then he gin him to me an' I hel' him up 

 while he shot him. He put the ole gun clus to his head an' 

 blowed him clean aouten the tongs as fur 's crost this shop, 

 V by gol, he never scent one mite till then, no more 'n a 

 snowball." 



"Did he die'?" asked the ever alert seeker after useful 

 knowledge. 



"Why, yes," Joseph replied, "he jes stunk hisself to 

 death then." 



"Jozeff," said Lisha, "that 'ere puts me in mind of the 

 Paddy. 'Divil a nade o' shootin' him,' says be; 'lave him 

 alone an' sure he'll shtink himself to death.' What a 'tarnal 

 time the creeturs dew hev wi' skunks 'fore they git 'quainted 

 with 'em. 'Member the ole story one on 'em tole? What 

 was't Sam?" 



Sam repeated the time-honored tale. "The furs toime 

 iver I wint hoontin' in Ameriky was wan day whin I was 

 gown to me worruk, an' I kilt a boird call't a skoonk. I 

 threed hur undher a hayshtack an' shot hur wid me sphade, 

 an' the furs toime I hit hur I misht hur, an' the nixt toime 

 I hit hur where I misht hur afore. An' whin I wint to 

 plook the feathers off hur, I was foorced to shkin hur, an' 

 in doun that I shtruck hur ile bag or hur heart I dunno, 

 an' the shmell nearly suffocaytit me, an' I was near shtarvin' 

 af ther, for divil a dhrink cud I take, but the shmell of hur 

 was in me noshtrils to kape me awake all night.' I like to 

 died," Sam continued, "to hear Joel Bartletfs Irishmun tell 

 'baout the fust skunk 't he ever met. 'Twas when he was in 

 Masschusitts, 'Maxacushin' he called it. He ben a workin' 

 on a railroad, an' lived in a shanty as yit though he was 

 workin' fer a farmer. Sez he, '1 wor a shpadin' round 

 threes in a yoong archard, an' Tom Egan, the divil, was in 

 id wid me, an' I seen caperin" troo the grass a foine shlip av 

 a young cat, an' says I to Tom, says I, begob, I'll capshure 

 it to kill the mice in the curse o' God shanty that's near 

 dhrivin' me dishthracktit. 'Do,' says he to me, an' the 

 divil knowin' in his own moind what it was. An' away I 

 wint in purshuit, an' whin I was about to lay me two hands 

 on id, 1 was shtruck in me face an' the two eyes av me wid 

 a shtream av the divil's own wather an' I was blindit an' 

 shtrangled, entirely. But I joomped on the baste wid me 

 boots an' kilt it, I was that choked wid rage, an' a grea' d'l 

 beside, an' thin I wint away back to Tom, but divil a near 

 him wud he let me come, the bl'guart, an' I call't out, 'Tom!' 

 says I, 'am I kilt entirely an' is it me, or is it the divil's 

 father of a baste that be's makin' the notorious shtink alto- 

 gether?' says 1. 'Be gob!' says he, 'its the both ov yees, an' 

 ye'll shmell that bad an' may be worse for a year,' says he. 

 'Ah thin, 5 1 cried, 'millia murthers, I'm rainaytit!' an' so 

 skoolked away home to the curse o' God shanty, an' whin I 

 wint in Biddy an' the childher wint out, an' I had the shanty 

 an' the shmell all to meself. Well, I berrit me close, an' I 

 sailed back an' forth troo the pond o' wather till night, but 

 divil a much betther did I shmell fer a week. Oh! bad luck 

 to the counthry that nurtures such cats!" 



"Dat Arish," Antoine remarked, "a'nt spik so good 

 Angleesh lak ah do, don't it?" 



The slim candle in the sconce had burned so low that 

 when Lisha attempted to snuff it with his fingers he pulled 

 it out and it dropped upon the floor, and sputtering out left, 

 the shop in darkness except for the thin streaks of firelight 

 that shone through the cracks of the stove, and the dim rays 

 of stars slanting in at the little window. The mishap was 

 accepted as a unanimous vote of adjournment, and stumbling 

 and groping their way to the door, Lisha's guests again de- 

 parted. 



A SUMMER CAMP GROUND. 



WAGON Wheel Gap with its hot springs, fine scenery, 

 altitude of 8,305 feet, invigorating air, abundance of 

 all kinds of game and large trout, may not suit the tastes of 

 all our Eastern tourists and sportsmen, so I will continue to 

 give a few more of the many interesting points on this great 

 mountain railroad, called by all who have ever traveled it 

 "the great scenic route." 



The writer during last fall traveled over the Denver & Rio 

 Grande Railroad from Denver to Salt Lake and stopped off, 

 camped, fished and hunted at six different points on the line, 

 and all he can say is that no sportsman can go amiss for 

 game of all sorts and speckled trout in abundance, at any 

 point he may select after the train leaves Pueblo, Colo. 



The first point of great interest to the tourist or sportsman 

 is the Royal Gorge or Grand Canon of the Arkansas. Here 

 deer and mountain lions are plenty. The former are fre- 

 quently seen from the windows of the passing train. 



The Grand Canon has been lauded in many of the daily 

 papers throughout the land. It must be seen to be appre- 

 ciated. The English language cannot describe it. From 

 the entrance, for eight miles, there is an ever-changing scene 

 of Nature's greatest work. Above you the peaks rise to the 

 giddy height of 3,000 feet. Below the river rushes and falls 

 over the craggy rocks. As you penetrate deeper into the 

 cafion the wails appear to close on you, until a mere fissure 

 of thirty feet is left for train and river to pass, while the 

 smooth granite soars to the very clouds above. Here is an 



iron bridge, built lengthwise, and suspended on steel trusses 

 mortised into the rock at either side, At this point the 

 grandeur of Royal Gorge culminates. The next point of 

 great importance is Marshall Pass, where you cross the 

 Sangre de Cristo range, at an altitude of 10,508 feet, in a 

 palace car. Here the sportsman enters the great, game country 

 of the world. 



Continue to Sapinero, and if you desire elk, bear, moun- 

 tain sheep, mountain Hon, blacktailed deer, grouse and 

 mountain trout as large as your arm, go to the Roaring Forks 

 of the Grand River, about thirty miles from the railroad. If 

 you want all but the elk, go to the eating station called 

 Cimarron. Here are fine camping grounds and the very best 

 fishing and game grounds, nere you can camp within a 

 mile of the station and can start a ieer any time within one 

 hour's travel. Grouse here are very plenty and easily got at. 

 There is a large pool here formed by the confluence of the 

 Cimarron Creek and the Gunnison River, which will suit all 

 lazy fishermen. One can sit on a large rock and drop his 

 fly and take off from his hook fine trout just as fast as he can 

 handle them. Last August the old Irish bridge tender was 

 watching me play a taking fly at this point, when this pool 

 seemed literally alive with large fish. I and my rif teen-year- 

 old son had caught out of this one place tbirty-'seven pounds 

 in less than one-half a day. Our Irish friend says : "By 

 jabers, I hive bin troying to clane this houl out of thim for 

 the past four months, and jist luck at thim. How miny do 

 you think there is lef yit?" I answered him I thought by 

 appearances that it must yet contain about twenty barrels of 

 trout. 



One of the Temarkable features of this great game world 

 is that since the Indians have been removed game of all kinds 

 is rapidly increasing. Many of the old Mormon settlers, 

 who have lived in Utah for the past thirty years, say that 

 deer are more plenty to-day than when they first came to 

 Salt Lake. 



If our Eastern men wish only deer shooting and trout fish- 

 ing, let them go on to Pleasant Valley Junction and remain 

 until late in October or November, when the deer cross in 

 this vicinity from the Wasatch range of mountains to the 

 south seeking a country having less snow than the northern 

 range. Very little hunting is done in Utah, and deer and 

 grouse are perhaps more abundant than anywhere in the 

 world. The following seems almost incredible, but it, is 

 nevertheless based on facts : 



The writer was one of a party of three at Pleasant Valley 

 Junction on a deer hunt late last November, when the snows ■ 

 were heavy in the upper Wasatch range, and the deer were 

 traveling south in great numbers. We killed eleven in one 

 day, and had all we wanted. While getting them to a wagon 

 road to take them to the railroad, the writer counted, in a 

 barren space of their trail south, forty-seven deer passing in 

 two hours' time. Here much of the keen sport of hunting 

 for this game is lost to the true sportsman. On visitiug this 

 spot, through which no doubt thousands of deer pass during 

 a .comparatively short time in the late fall, the snow was 

 beaten down the same as though a large herd of sheep had 

 been driven over it. 



These are all black-tailed or mule-eared deer. Colorado 

 has many white-tailed or red deer, but Utah has none. This 

 conclusion was formed last fall after hunting over a great 

 portion of the Territory, and watching the market in Salt 

 Lake City for the whole of last season and not seeing one 

 red deer. To an old deer hunter of the Eastern States shoot- 

 ing the black-tailed deer of the West would be tame sport 

 indeed, because they have none of that foxy cunning which 

 is always found in the red deer. The black-tail will often 

 stand while a good marksman will kill five or six. I have 

 known a market hunter to kill a band of seventeen within 

 a radius of less than 200 yards, and this was done without a 

 magazine gun, by a Mr, Woodard on Powder River in 

 Dakota. In that same vicinity I caught a large doe with a 

 greyhound, dressed it and started toward camp; and inside 

 of one hour we came across the same band, and our dog 

 caught and killed the second doe. The reader will naturally 

 ask how I know this was the same band. Because the first 

 band had one buck and nine does, and when we came up to 

 them the second time there were but eight does and one 

 buck, a coincidence not to be accounted for in any other way. 

 In my next I will describe how we caught a buffalo calf 

 with three greyhounds. Q. Van Htjmmell, M.D. 



Idaho Springs, Colorado. 



ittt^A Wffi ar U* 



A BIT OF A SERMON. 



BY permission of the writer we are enabled to print aome 

 extracts from a private letter which furnish an eloquent 

 sermon against summer shooting. The facts speak for them- 

 selves so forcibly that no comment on them is required. The 

 observations here related will be no less interesting to the 

 naturalist than the sportsman, and by whomever read the 

 story is an interesting one : 



While strolling on the banks of French Creek, near Clay- 

 ton, on Sunday last, June 8, in company with my wife and 

 a friend, we started a woodcock, which feigned being 

 wounded, and gave utterance to the most plaintive squeaks, 

 from which we inferred the nest must be near. A short 

 search discovered it among some small bushes on the ground 

 in a comparatively exposed position. The nest contained 

 three eggs, which -we, of course, did not disturb. Leaving 

 the nest for over an hour, I cautiously returned, and getting 

 on my hands and knees crept withiu ten feet of it without 

 disturbing the old bird. After watching her for about ten 

 miuutes I saw her 6tand up in the nest and with her bill and 

 one foot change the position of two of the eggs, after which 

 she settled back on the nest. 



She then evidently saw me, for she gave a sudden twist 

 sideways with her 'head and then slowly and cautiously 

 stretched herself out as flat as possible, her bill resting flat on 

 the ground. She remained thus for fully five miuutes. 

 Presently 1 arose from my position and stepped forward, 

 when the bird quietly sneaked away from the nest, seeming 

 to crouch as near the ground as possible, until about twenty 

 feet away when she arose with the usual cry, but immediately 

 fell to the ground, fluttered up and down and finally turned 

 over on her back fluttering her wings as if in the last agony, 

 but as I approached she scrambled away, dragging one wing 

 on the ground until she had led me fully two hundred yards 

 from the nest, when suddenly she bade me au revoir, and 

 darted away like a rocket. Secreting myself some distance 

 from the nest, in fourteen minutes I was surprised to see her 

 fitting on it as quietly as before being disturbed, but how she 

 reached there I am unable to say, as I did not see her ap 



