Forest and Stream. 



A Weekly Journal of the Rod and Gun. 



Terms, $4 a Year. 10 Cts. a Copt. I 



Six Months, $2. ) 



NEW YORK, JULY 17, 18 8 4. 



( VOL. XXII.— No. 25. 



\ Nos. 39 & 40 Park Row, New York. 



CORRESPONDENCE. 

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 ment, instruction and information between American sportsmen. 

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 respectfully invited. Anonymous communications will not be re- 

 garded. No name will be published except with writer's consent. 

 The Editors are not responsible for the views of correspondents. 



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Nos. 39 and 40 Park Row. New York City. 



CONTENTS. 



Editorial. 



An Afternoon on the Range. 



Tricks Upon Travelers. 

 The Sportsman Tourist. 



Memories of Seuachwine Lake. 



"Nessmuk's" Poems. 



Facts and Fancies. 



Moosehead Lake Notes. 



Interesting Figures. 

 Camp Fire Flickerings. 

 Natural History. 



The Arizona Quail. 



Notes on Shore Birds. 



How Young Birds are Fed. 



The Oak Woods Sparrow. 



Friendly Squirrels. 

 Game Bag and Gun. 



Open Seasons for Game and Fish 



New York Game Protectors. 



The Three-Days Ducking Law. 



Two-Eyed Shooting. 

 Sea and River Fishing. 



Camps of the Kingfishers— x. 



Wanton Food Fish Destruction. 



His First Black Bass. 



Charms of Salt-Water Fishing. 



'•Nessmuk's' 1 Bread Recipe. 



Fishing in Colorado. 



Fly-Fishing for Black Bass. 



The Tale of a Fish. 



FlSHCULTURE. 



Comparative Excellence of 

 Food Fishes. 



Notes Pertaining to Fishcuiture. 



Fish aud Fishing at Point Bar- 

 row, Arctic Alaska. 

 The Kennel. 



Pointers at New York. 



The Kennel. 

 Shooting over Beagles. 

 The Laverack Setters. 

 Mistake in Pedigree. 

 English Kennel Notes.— ix. 

 Mr. Llewellin to American 



Sportsmen. 

 The Kennel Hospital. 

 Kennel Notes. 

 Rifle and Trap Shooting. 

 Range and Gallery. 

 The Trap. 



Boston Gun Club Tournament. 

 New England Tournament. 

 Clay-Pigeon Tournament. 

 Canoeing. 

 The A. C. A. Races. 

 A Canoe Cruise on the Anclote. 

 The Camp Fire. 



Canoe and Camp Cookery. 

 Cruise of the Pittsburgh C. C. 

 Yachting. 

 Port Orange Y. C. Annual 



Matches. 

 A Race Between Trading 



Schooners. 

 Hull Y. C. Annual Matches. 

 Hull Y. C. Cruise. 

 "Kites Against Sails." 

 From Port Morris to Lake 



George. 

 N. Y. Y. C. Cruise, 

 American Y. C. Races. 

 Pacific Y. C. Ocean Race. 

 Beverly Y. C. 87ch Regatta. 

 Cutters on the Lakes. 

 Answers to Correspondents. 

 Publisher's Department. 



With its compact type and in its permanently enlarged form 

 of twenty -eight pages this journal furnishes each ween a larger 

 amount of first-class matter relating to angling, shooting, the 

 kennel, yachting, canoeing, and kindred subjects, than is con- 

 tained in all other American publications put together. 



AN AFTERNOON ON THE RANGE. 



TO escape from the noise and worriment of the city away 

 to a restful afternoon on the range is a rare pleasure 

 which many have learned to love. There is about the sport 

 of target-shooting a fascination which is very powerful to 

 certain men. Those who are engaged in sedentary pursuits 

 can find no better way of taking the air and securing a cer- 

 tain share of field sport than in this quiet battering away at 

 the bullseye. The mind is engaged at the same time that the 

 body is taking a good share of exercise. The man very 

 soon finds that, barring physical imperfections, the question 

 of becoming a good shot rests entirely with himself. If he 

 is in good condition or in fine form, the chances are that his 

 score will be of a fine order, but a bit of dissipation on the 

 night before comes back to him at once in a slipping from 

 the bullseye, and a falling away in his average. The best 

 man wins there in the great majority of the cases, and it is 

 this which encourages men to persevere even when they find 

 themselves far down in the list when first going upon the 

 range. 



To the casual spectator there are many sights far more 

 interesting than a rifle match, even when the fight is a sharp 

 one. The looker on is very soon informed that he is to use 

 his eyes only, and to take no further part in the affair. 

 Ordinarily, unless he has started in at the opening of the 

 match and kept a very accurate tally, it is impossible to deter- 

 mine how the score stands and what the relative position of 

 the contestants may be. The outsider is reduced to the 

 necessity of sitting down, hearing the sharp bang of the rifle, 

 followed by the puff of smoke, and then in time a bobbing 



up of the disk, white, black or red, as the case may be. Very 

 soon the watcher grows tired of this, and having no appre- 

 ciation of what each shot means in the way of thought and 

 effort, he wanders away and finds something to engage his 

 attention in the neighborhood. 



While the visitor to the range who comes merely to look 

 on, spends perhaps a very dull afternoon, it is entirely dif- 

 ferent with the man who has entered his name on the list of 

 competitors. To him the range is simply the place where he 

 is trying the results of his previous precautions and judg- 

 ments on a dozen points. It is not alone the buying of a 

 good gun which makes a good rifleman. We have seen the 

 finest sporting rifles in the hands of new comers or men who 

 are not willing to take the working road to victory, beaten 

 by the ordinary "gas-pipe" weapons issued under contract to 

 troops, simply because the trooper puts a good percentage 

 of brains and judgment behind his gun when he stood up to 

 shoot. 



The trip to the range is always an enjoyable one to the en- 

 thusiastic rifleman, because he goes along buoyed up by 

 expectancy. He looks forward to a string of bullseyes, and 

 once on the range he has a score of details to look after. 

 When the ordinary visitor merely notes that it is a sunny 

 afternoon, with a sharp wind blowing, the mau who is to 

 shoot is already busy calculating precisely how much of an 

 allowance he is to make for the condition of the light and 

 the force of the wind. He has a book of past scores, not 

 merely the total actually made out of a possible highest 

 score, but a briefly-written history of each shot. He turns 

 back over his records until he finds a set of conditions very 

 similar or exactly so to the present state of wind and 

 weather, and then he duplicates the record on his front and 

 rear gauges. Then comes the shot. It is taken with care, 

 the holding was perfect, the spirit level in front had been 

 kept at the dead-center point, there had been no error in the 

 setting of the sights, the cartridge had been made up with 

 the greatest care, and at the last instant before firing the 

 cautious score-maker had quickly glanced about and made 

 sure that there had been no little twitch in the wind, 

 insignificant, perhaps, to the casual eye, but instantly 

 detected by him, because he knew that a neglect 

 to allow for it meant an outer possibly in place of 

 the expected bullseye. Bang, and the bullet is off beyond 

 recall on its way targetwards. The returns come quick, for 

 the sharp reechoing ping shows that the leaden bolt has 

 flattened and melted itself against the target, and this report 

 is verified a second or two later by the opening of the trap. 

 It is time for the appearance of the disk, and it comes, not 

 the expected white-faced one telling of a perfect shot, but a 

 red one, which creeps up until it hides a good share of the 

 bullseye and notes a hit close to its lower edge. There is a 

 feeling of disgust at even this loss of a single point, but the 

 rifleman has caught his bearings. He goes up a point on his 

 rear sight, holds as he had done in the previous shot, and 

 there comes an encouraging bullseye disk in response. Again 

 and again it comes up, and then the red disk reappears, only 

 to remind the marksman that shooting is a very uncertain 

 thing, and that in a little streak of forgetfulness he has 

 allowed the wind to shift to the other side of the 6 o'clock 

 point, and that he finds a bullet wafted away to a 5 o'clock 

 center in place of taking its place with the bunch of hits in 

 the 7 o'clock corner of the white iris. 



It has in it the delightful element of uncertainty which 

 makes any sport enjoyable— victory is possible, but it must 

 be worked for. It is a perpetual struggle from the firing of 

 the first shot until the final one is safely lodged against the 

 iron disk or it may be the grass parapet before it. Then 

 comes the homeward run. Those who head the list are con- 

 gratulated and explanations are in order. Those who won 

 give minute explanation and hints as to the precautions taken 

 with every part of their work, from the buying of the 

 empty cartridge shell, through the delicacies of loading, on 

 to the manipulations of firing, and so to the final pull off. 

 Riflemen, generally, are a generous set, and freely help each 

 other to the good results of any discoveries made by them. 

 There is such a large margin of uncertainty that there is 

 ample room for a multitude of explanation, and unless every 

 point is properly covered the chances are that a failure will 

 he scored. The defeated ones are, of course, full of excuse 

 during the homeward trip. Everything is held to blame by 

 some over and beyond their own carelessness. There are 

 cranks on the range as at every point, and to them there is 

 a different wind of a peculiarly perplexing sort, and as they 

 wind themselves up in apology the old range masters smile 

 in a good-natured fashion and says truly, "Practice makes 

 perfect." 



TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. 



THE stroller along South street can find considerable 

 amusement in the inspection of the motley collection of 

 statues that keep watch and ward from the bows of the 

 various ships; a collection that throws the Eden Musee, 

 Barnum's Menagerie, and the Cesnola Antiques, entirely in 

 the shade. A notable addition was made last week to this 

 happy family, in the shape of a huge black and gold griffin 

 that gazed ferociously down from the balance dock on the 

 heads of passers by, from the. bow of the French yacht 

 Nubienne. 



The reason for the presence of the yacht and its fierce 

 attendant was alluded to in Forest and Stream of last 

 week, but further details of the mishap have since come to 

 light. On anchoring off Twenty-third street, Captain Miller 

 applied for permission to land his boats there, and was 

 approached by a person representing himself as a pilot, and 

 bringing a note signed H. G. Boyton, Harbor Master, 

 demanding a payment of $7.50 for the privilege of landing. 

 The young man, who gave his name as Boulanger, also 

 offered to pilot the yacht to Newport, and as he exhibited 

 some certificates, the captain engaged him. 



On coming aboard on Wednesday afternoon, he at once 

 asked for a chart, which excited some suspicion on board 

 the yacht, but he was allowed to take charge, and ran down 

 the Hudson, up the East River and through Hell Gate safely, 

 but when once clear of the Gate, he put her helm Over, in 

 spite of a loud warning from the steamer Pilgrim, and 

 deliberately ran the yacht on the reef just south of South 

 Brothers Island, the rocks showing plainly above water a 

 short distance from her bows. 



Two tugs came to her assistance, and she was soon afloat, 

 the pilot (?) getting on one of the tugs to come to the city 

 for another pilot, first borrowing five dollars for his expenses. 

 It is needless to say that neither man nor money has been 

 seen since. The Nubienne leaked somewhat, so she ran 

 back to New York, going on the dock on Thursday. 



The damage proved to be very slight, she having struck 

 squarely on the keel, in two places, at each of which half 

 a dozen rivets were cut out and replaced, no other damage 

 being apparent. Her trip to Newport was, however, 

 abandoned, and she left on Saturday for Havre. 



An inquiry among pilots and officials failed to discover 

 either the bogus harbor master or pilot, neither of the names 

 being in the directory, or known to the pilots. It also 

 appears that there is no one whose business it is to detect 

 and punish such rascals, as the laws are at present. 



Things Have Come to a Pretty Pass when men who 

 have been detected in violating the fish laws are appointed 

 to enforce these laws. A case in point is the recent appoint- 

 ment by the Governor of New Jersey of one Abram Terhune, 

 as Fish Warden of Bergen county. Terhune, it appears, has 

 been somewhat notorious in connection with the law ap- 

 plying to bass. He was once arrested by the Passaic County 

 Fish and Game Protective Association for having caught 

 bass out of season. Why the Governor of New Jersey should 

 put such a man in the office of Game Warden is an "opaque 

 conundrum" which we shall not try to solve. 



List of Open Seasons.— A list of the open game and 

 fish seasons for several States are given in another column; 

 others will follow as soon as we can get the information. 

 Great care is exercised to make the list authentic and a safe 

 guide to the reader, who eagerly scans it to learn when the 

 law is off on his favorite game. Few changes of dates have 

 been made during the past year. This is well. As the laws 

 become better known they are better obs'erved. Frequent 

 changes confuse the public. Last year we republished our 

 list in convenient pocket form, and it has been in great de- 

 mand. This year we shall do the same thing. 



The Ontario Collie Show, which is to be held at 

 Toronto, Sept. 16-18, should be well supported. The collie 

 is a valuable dog. He ought to be better known. If farmers 

 generally understood what a collie would do for them on the 

 farm, the demand for good dogs would exceed the supply. 

 Exhibitions like the one to beheld at Toronto are useful, 

 because they display in a very effective way just what the 

 collie is and what he can do. Such an exhibition ought to 

 be given at all the State agricultural fairs in this country, 



Where are the Migratory Quail? — It is a long time 

 since we have heard anything about them. Did all the birds 

 disappear never to be seen again? Who can give any infor- 

 mation that will lead to a detection of their whereabouts? 



