6 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[July 80, 1885. 



down it, and thus have the wind in our faces. Nearly half 

 a mile away we could see where it ended by branching into 

 several little ravines, with flat-topped ridges between clad 

 with brush, the whole forming a little brushy basin just 

 below where the rugged hills broke suddenly away into a 

 smooth, grassy table-land beyond. 



A detour of neaily a mile then brought us to a high rock 

 on the edge of this tableland and there we sat down to take 

 a look. Below U8_ lay the basin well tilled with dark green 

 brush over waist high, among which was scattered a goodl.y 

 assortment of boulders of gray granite. Carefully we 

 scanned every bush and the shade of every rock, and turned 

 a strong opera glass iipon every little spot of gray, brown, 

 blacker white. Plenty of such spots there were ; but one 

 by one they changed under the glass into bits of shade, 

 glimpses of granite through brush, or the skull of some long- 

 dead ox looking dimly gray through the fine bright leaves of 

 the lilac or mauzanita. The warm "wind swept up out of 

 the canon into our faces, bearing with it the voices of the 

 men gathering grapes far away below; but there was no 

 sound of bounding hoofs upon the hard dry ground, no crack 

 or crash of brash such as are often heard when the deer 

 takes the alarm and starts from his shady bed. Par below, 

 but scarcely three-quarters of a mile away, shone the white 

 v^alls of the ranch house, with the broad "vineyard lying in a 

 dense mass of green before it, and beside it the ripening 

 oranges were gleaming through the dark green foliage of 

 the trees. Miles away and thousands of feet below us 

 gleamed a broad silver band beneath the western blue, where 

 the mighty ocean lay sleeping its long summer sleep of peace, 

 while between lay a wild array of tumbling hiUs, rolling 

 tablelands and valleys, dark with depth. On our right, on 

 our left and behind us lofty mountains loomed through au- 

 tunin's golden haze, some dark and soft with pine forests, 

 others gray and rugged, being mere piles of boulders be- 

 tween which ragged chapparal and scrubby oaks struggled 

 for existence. And all between, still bright with golden 

 stubbles, lay broad, sweeping plains and tablelands, rolliug 

 skyward in* long waves of rich soil covered with yellow 

 grass or scattered live oaks. 



On any of this our prospects seemed about as good as in 

 the hiUs'before us that lay around the vineyard. Yet it was 

 certain that the deer had entered this little valley whose 

 branching head lay just before and below us. It was cer- 

 tain that they had not passed out on the side on which we 

 had made our detour or we should have seen their tracks. 

 Nor was it probable that they crossed over into the head of 

 the next valley beyond, for had they intended to go into that 

 one they would have been more apt to enter it by its mouth. 

 That we had neither heard nor seen anything of the game 

 proved nothing, for deer that live much in brush have a 

 habit of hiding or skulking in it and may lie still or even 

 stand still within fifty yards of a person or sneak quietly off 

 without one's suspicion of their presence. It was quite 

 probable that they were not two hundred yards from us, 

 lying down on the sliady side of some little ravine or under 

 some large bush. 



About one hundred yards below us lay a noble boulder of 

 granite with a smaller one beside it by which we could climb 

 ur ij It Its top was broad and Mi and formed a most 

 (ce tx) siUtt enjoy the view and the breeze if 

 11 Tas hardly necessary for me to suggest 

 ourselves to that boulder, for my 

 n it as his next resting place. 

 , .! - : - we stretched out upon it, "let's make 

 quite a stay here. A deer even when hiding from you often 

 gets uneasy after a while and cannot resist the temptation to 

 have a good look at you. If you sit long enough within 

 view of one, you may finally hear the brush crack, or may 

 see the tips of a pair of ears arise out of the brush some- 

 where, or a pair of horns perhaps come surging" 



"That isn't a pair of horns over there, is it?" he inter- 

 rupted, pointing away on the left. 



About one hundred and thirty yards upon the left tv.'o 

 points some three inches long and twelve inches apart were 

 just visible above the chapparal. To an untrained eye they 

 might have passed for the ends of dead sticks often seen in 

 such brush, whose weather-beaten ends often look gray and 

 shiny. But there was a peculiar hue and glitter about these 

 points that made them like the face of an old friend dimly 

 caught amid a crowd, while their distance apart and direc- 

 tion left no room for doubt. 



My rifle was sighted for that very distance, and was a very 

 accurate one, whereas I knew that S. had not tried his for 

 a long time, and did not know exactly for what point the 

 sights were set. I handed him mine and told him to fire 

 about a foot below the center between the lower ends of the 

 two points. 



"No," said he, "you try them." 



There was no time for parley or further interchange of 

 courtesies. At any second the points might disappear, to be 

 seen no more that day. Moreover, it was a diflicult shot in- 

 volving too much guess work as to the precise point to strike, 

 and a head being too small a mark for that distance even if 

 distinctly seen. But firing by guess at the supposed body 

 would hav© been still worse, as it was impossible to say 

 which way it was st-ttnding. 



Drawina: a fine sight a foot or so below the center between 

 the points"! fired. What a whirl of gray and white above 

 that distant brush followed the report of the rifle, as the 

 deer sprang upward and turned around with almost a single 

 motion. IJp he came again in a shining curve of gray, bis 

 whole outline forming the top of an arch over the brush. 

 Bang went my companion's rifle and bang went mine, aimed 

 about where i thought the glossy hair would descend into 

 the brush. The smoke for a moment rolled across our line 

 of view, then in an instant was swept aside by the breeze, 

 and there just about the place where our deer had disap- 

 peared stood a statue of beamy gray. Now we could see it 

 plainly, for it stood upon a knoll, perfect in outhne with 

 head proudly erect, long, tapering nose and great flaring 

 ears pointed directly at us The bright morning sun shone 

 from its dark iron gray hack and glittered on three or four 

 points upon each horn, a perfect picture of a three-year-old 

 buck. 



Both rifles rang out almost together, through the smoke 

 we dimly saw another whirl of .white and gray; but before 

 either of us could fire again it was gone, glimmering through 

 the dream of things that ought to be. But in a second more 

 there rose from the brush in a little ravine beyond just such 

 another pair of horns with just such another curve of beamy 

 gray behind them. Again our repeaters poured dire inten- 

 tions upon the scene, but in a moment the gray was once 

 more gone, fading over a ridge amid a maze of brush. 



But there was no lime to think or indulge in speculations 

 or regrets. For scarcely had the brush closed over the slip- 

 pery beauty before a crash of brush about a hundred yards 



ahead of us made us turn about with something akin to haste. 

 There, surging through the chapparral upon a slope across a 

 deep ravine, were the two fawns. They looked nearly as 

 large as the bucks, as with the gay bound of the mule 

 deer they rose high above the brush from the im- 

 pulse of their springy legs, striking ground with all 

 four feet at once, and bouncing from earth again 

 as though it was an India rubber cushion. Now with a long 

 jump to one side, then with a short jump to the other side, 

 rising ever high in air with all four feet grouped beneath 

 them ready to beat the ground simultaneously with a heavy 

 thump as they descended, the fawns sped swiftly away. 

 Ball after ball tore up the dirt around, above and below, and 

 hissed and sang through the air beyond, until they suddenly 

 wheeled and plunged into a little ravine filled with brush. 

 Just ahead of them a big wildcat was running, evidently 

 under the impression that he had fallen on dangerous times. 

 As he reached the top of the slope he yielded to the tempta- 

 tion to stop and see what was the cause of the uproar, 

 evidently having been started by the noise only. He sat 

 upou his haimches with brindle back turned toward us and 

 turned his gray face backward over his shoulder. In a 

 second more the cat and the dry dirt beneath it flew about 

 two feet in air as a heavy ball from ray friend's rifle struck 

 the ground by the root of its stubbed tail. It went over the 

 ridge in a sommersault of brindle hair and we were again 

 alone. 



Plenty of noise and smoke we had made. In fact, few 

 rocks have ever seen such a cannonade in such a short space 

 of time. Yet nothing had fallen and there was a painful 

 dearth of evidence that anything had been hit. Taking first 

 the track of the fawns we found them leading away in long 

 jumps, tearing up the ground with every leg intact. It 

 seemed almost useless to go to look for the others. But we 

 went more from sound principle than from hope. Within 

 ten yards of where we had fired at the first deer lay a three- 

 year-old buck dead, shot through the shoulder. And now 

 the question arose, had we been shooting at only one during 

 the first part of the programme or had there been two deer? 

 A little cu-cling around revealed a track leading away in fuU 

 run, and following it about a hundred yards we found 

 another three year-old dead with two bullets in him. The 

 second had evidently risen almost into the place first vacated 

 by the first one, and the first was the last one we found. 



T. S. Van Dyke. 



TWO NIGHTS ON THE DUG-WAY. 



NEAR the point where the waters of Grand Lake de- 

 bouche into the Biver St. John, the latter describes a 

 reversed curve, something the shape of the letter S. This is 

 called "No man's friend," because vessels have to beat at 

 some point in it no matter which way they are going or in 

 what direction the wind. At the lower part of the curve, 

 just where it reverses, a narrow intervale bank separates the 

 river from Foshay's Lake, a lagoon, joined to the river by a 

 narrow mouth about three miles further down. Here, when 

 the water rises about four feet, the river makes a "cut off" 

 at a low place in the bank, part of its waters rushing into 

 the lake with great velocity. This passage is known as 

 the Dug-way. Between this and the mouth of Foshay's 

 Lake, forming a sort of island when the water is up, are 

 hundreds of acres of bottom lands comprising nearly every- 

 thing from the broad, level meadow, cutting three tons of 

 hay to the acre, to the apparently bottomless? slough and im- 

 penetrable thicket. Only two families live on this tract of 

 land, and during the freshet season they are, to quote the 

 words of a locafSolon Briggs, ' "Hke John the Baptist on the 

 island Juan Fernandez." A large part of this tract belongs 

 to the Scovil estate, and a "muchly wanted" man who made 

 a big figure on Wall street for a time and whose name is still 

 green in the memory of New Yorkers, was one of the heirs. 

 The grass on this was formei'ly rented to neighboring farmers, 

 and my father, who lives eight miles away, once leased the 

 Dug-way block for four years. Here is where I got ray first 

 taste of camp life. 



Never will I forget the little lean-to "wick-y-up" in the 

 big grove of elm, willow and maple, the bracing effect of the 

 cool September air, the delicious taste of the meals we ate 

 there, and most of all, the shooting in the early evening, as 

 ducks flew back and forth from the lake, for as a "fly -way" 

 the Dug-way was then, as now, unequaled by any place I 

 know of in this province. And we do not have to look far 

 for a reason. On the opposite side of the river, here about 

 half a mile wide, is another tract of land similar to that just 

 described; and this low open pass is a natural highway from 

 the one to the other. In the early spring hundreds of geese 

 harbor here for nearly a month, and during a heavy south 

 wind the bank of the Dug-way is a sure place for a shot 

 sometime between 4 and 11 P. M. ; yet the small number of 

 casualties in the f?reat goose army is truly surprising. It was 

 for the purpose of increasing the mortuary list, in some of 

 their brigades or platoons, that Sam and I were ensconced in 

 a blind, behind a huge drift log, on the evening of April 30. 

 (Now, don't, I beg of you, brother sportsmen, come down on 

 us like a ton of brick for spring shooting, we don't kill many, 

 and the geese don't visit us in the fall ) To the south of us 

 was the lake, and out in the middle were a few geese. A 

 crescent of trees, concave side toward us, started at the river 

 bank, nearly a half mile below, and terminated in Long 

 Point in the middle of the lake. On either side of a break 

 in this hne, about eighty yards wide, was a blind. On the 

 lake shore, less than 200 yards away, was a clump of red 

 willows, on the top of which a wisp of hay appeared to have 

 accidentally caught; but beneath, the sharp eye could detect 

 a boy, small in size, but prodigious in the amount of mischief 

 he was capable of doing if geese came in range. 



By the stone abutments of a fence out on the marsh two 

 more blinds were built, while near the lake but far from any 

 cover was another man concealed in a small hay-blind. The 

 air was perfectly calm. The sun was close to the horizon 

 when the first flock came in sight a mile away, now coming 

 directly toward us, now swerving as if they would pass far 

 out of gunshot. They came provokingly near, and then 

 passed right over that little wisp of hay on the willows. 

 Davie's first barrel missed fire, which so disconcerted him 

 that they were out of range before he got in his second. All 

 quiet for half an hour. Suddenly the few on the ice rose, 

 swinging round, passed close to the eastern side of the break 

 or "lead" before mentioned, on Long Point. There were 

 two diminutive puffs of smoke, like a double whifl: from a 

 ten cent cigar, and two of the flock were placed to the credit 

 of Pilkington's 16-bore, Lament's 12 on the opposite side 

 failing to call any down. To some this would be convinc- 

 ing proof of the superiority of a 16 over a 13 for goose shoot- 

 ing, but it only proves that a 16 when geese are in range is 

 more deadly than a 13 when they are not. Another fact 



that many seem to forget is that a ball from a .23 pistol when 

 It hits, IS more effective than one from a mountain howitzer 

 when it misses. 



A hum of voices cau.«ed us to look eastward, and the pro- 

 cession that was making its way down the intervale, would 

 have justified us in the assumption that the Mahdi had in- 

 vaded our little province, or that reinforcements were on 

 tneir way west to join Riel ; but it was only the army of 

 shooters for the evening flight. They were armed with 

 every conceivable pattern of lead projector, or to quote one 

 of our rural poets, who described the weapons at a local 

 shooting match, there were: 



"Tlie Eemington so neat and trim, 

 The needle gun, so long and slim, 

 And tiie musket that killed with a poisoned dart, 

 The golden eagle of Bonaparte." 

 All these, or their prototypes, were there; the counteipart 

 of the last-named being in custody of a youth whom we will 

 call Johnny, who was out on his first hunt. The weapon is 

 well worthy of a description. An old converted musket of 

 the pattern that assisted the great Marlborough to win Blen- 

 heim; the barrel large enough to admit a "poisoned dart," if 

 the shaft were any smaller than a pitchfork handle; the comb 

 of the butt rasped away to make a rest for the cheek in aim- 

 ing, and a ramrod too light for a crowbar, but too heavy for 

 the purpose for which if was used. Yet the pride and hap- 

 piness depicted on the boy's countenance might justly be the 

 envy of the middle-aged sportsman armed with the best pro- 

 duction of London or Birmingham art. 



In a few minutes the throng had disappeared behind log, 

 stump, coulee, brush, or any convenient cover, and the 

 country changed its aspect almost as suddenly as did the 

 hillside at the wave of Roderick Dhu's hand. And now we 

 espied a single figure making the best possible time down the 

 ridge, and we observed that it carried no gun and bore a 

 strong resemblance to the "Commodore," a brother of 

 Johnny. When we heard him hail Davie to learn his 

 brother's whereabouts, we knew that Nemesis was on the 

 poor boy's track. Shortly afterward we heard the following 

 colloquy: 



"John ! bring here that gun." "I won't." "Bring it here, 

 I tell you, or I'll come over there and give you a good 

 kicking." The domestic cowhide argument was too much 

 for the boy, and he approached his tyrannical elder. Slowly 

 and sadly, as he would lower a coffin into a grave, he sur- 

 rendered the canned earthquake, likewise the bottle of 

 powder and handful of loose buckshot, that he had slipped 

 into his pocket, also the box of "beaver-hat" caps. As the 

 newly-armed craiser turned away, he said: "After this you 

 leave the gun alone." This was too much. "I'll let you 

 know I'm going to gun a little as well as the rest of you," 

 was the reply. I was truly sorry for the boy, and felt like 

 anything but joiningin the derisive "whoo h o o" with which 

 some of the shooters greeted the last remark, though had he 

 left off the little blank blank with which he emphasized it, 

 he would have borne away a larger share of our sympath3^ 

 One compassionate boy called him over to his stand and told 

 him that "he should have a whang at 'em, if they came." 

 That boy will make a sportsman, if he live, but "the good 

 die young." 



Night closed around us, the moon being half down in the 

 west, and of the shape, the representation of which the in- 

 fidel Saracen chooses to adorn his banner. The stillness was 

 only broken by, the almost constant whistle of black ducks' 

 wings. la an hour three flashes at the "lead," showing 

 against the dull sky as if some one had made three ineffect- 

 ual attempts to strike a match against it, three dull reports 

 soon after told us that .something 'was on the wing. A double 

 flash from the hay blind showed that it was coming on. 

 Then there was a series of flashes from every abutment of 

 the stone fence, followed In' a sheet of fire from stump, bush, 

 tree and log on the outside ridge, and winding up with a 

 grand eruption from the Commodore's volcano. Looking 

 westward, high up in the "daylight .streak," we saw two 

 geese, which had run the gauntlet of that fire without the 

 loss of a feather. We were soon certain that there would be 

 no regular evening flight, so we lay back against thelo^ and 

 "took it easy." By and by I became sensible of a labored 

 wick! wick! mingling with the sharper whistle of ducks' 

 wings, and looking up we saw eight geese that had flown 

 directly over our blind fading away in the darkness. "We've 

 let the shot of the evening slip through our fingers," said 

 Sam, "let's go home." 



A few nights after this, Sam and I again embarked for 

 the Dug-way. Sam'l rather likes to hunt with me, for I 

 usually give him his own way, and I have a good canoe. 

 We would be an able team on the single blades, too, but he 

 will only paddle with his left hand next the blade, whereas 

 in this one respect I am ambidextrous. As we had to go 

 dead in the teeth of a heavy south wind and I was "bow 

 paddle," I had no easy task to keep our craft in hand. Our 

 paddle ended, we found the geese sitting in great rafts close 

 to their feeding grounds, which meant that we were late. 

 Sam said they must be driven out. Accordingly I took the 

 rifle and a package of cartridges, he accompanying me with 

 a shotgun, and vre gained a point on the shore about 300 

 yards from the nearest flock. 



The person who never tried may consider it no feat at all 

 to kill two or three of those geese with a rifle ; but when he 

 sees how near it is possible to come to a goose and not hit; 

 how faint a hairbreadth's difference in the elevation will 

 cause him to shoot over or short of it; what a forest of 

 necks a bullet can pass through without touching one, and 

 M'hat a tough thing a goose is anyway, he will wonder that 

 one is ever bagged in that way at all. I have made a care 

 ful calculation, and I find that killing shots, with me, 

 average about one in fifty (I am not joking), and hits about 

 one in fifteen; yet I can on a still day, at 150 yards, send 

 ball after ball into a tree six inches in diameter. 



On this occasion the first bullet, dead against the wind, 

 dropped short, the second splashed up the water right among 

 them, the third raised such a commotion on the edge of the 

 ice that they did not consider themselves safe until they had 

 put a mile between themselves and us. Each time I fired 

 the flock would rise and drop a little further away. Sam 

 selected a site for a blind, and we were on our way back to 

 the canoe, he being about 1 00 yards ahead, when we espied 

 the geese coming, laboring heavily against the wind. He 

 took a willow tree, I lay on my back, but as they put a hay 

 barn in their line of flight, he ran about eighty yards and 

 gained the barn easily. As they came over him he doubled 

 up the rearmost, but catching his wines he sailed out over 

 the lake, the other two crooking their necks and settling, as 

 he settled, till he went down, when they alighted by his 

 side. I tried one of them with the rifle and knocked out a 

 few feathers, but he never winced. We shouldered the 



