162 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept. 24, 1885. 



as an idle rumor, and tender the party an apology for making the 

 chaises I did.— W. E. Miner. 



P.S.— So little attention is paid to the game laws in this northern 

 country, that I do not think he -will put himself out of the way to 

 obtain any information for me in regard to the ease in hand. 1 shall 

 write to him about the facts, in justice to myself as well as the 

 party, and request him to substantiate the charges against them. If 

 not what can I do further?— W. E. M. 



That enried tlie correspondence so far as Mr. Miner is con- 

 cerned. We wrote him afterward, urging him to send us 

 some satisfactory proof, or to direct us to some one who 

 •would furnish evidence, hut though we have waited a year, 

 no response has come. 



The facts of the case, so far as we have been ahle to as- 

 certain them, appear to be that a party of men from Cincin- 

 nati did hire Merrill to drive deer into the water for them to 

 kill out of season. But these men were not of the "King- 

 fishers' " party. We have their names as registered at the 

 Spencer House, Cheboygan, Mich., and there is not a "Eang- 

 fisher" among them. 



The correspondenc will repay study. Here was a man 

 who was quite willing to rush into print himself or to in- 

 volve us in the blunder of doing so, to accuse a party of 

 respectable, law-abiding gentlemen of having committed a 

 misdemeanor, for which, if they received their deserts, they 

 would be landed in jail. His letter of accusation was 

 accompanied by a threat — not in the best taste — that if the 

 Forest and Stream would not accuse one of its valued 

 correspondents, he could find some other paper that would 

 do it. Most newspaper editors are accustomed to threats of 

 that sort, but we have never heard of an editor who paid 

 any attention to them. Mr. Miner professed to have plenty 

 of evidence. Called upon to furnish the names of the 

 Cheboygan men, he fails to do it. Asked for the name of 

 the officer who had the warrant, he cannot give it. Urged 

 to give us some o£ his proof, he backs out, step by step, and 

 finally is quite ready to retract and apologize to the men he 

 had accused. 



We do not for a moment question the motive which 

 prompted Mr. Miner to write to us as he did in his first com- 

 munication ; but we do confess to an impatience with him 

 and the scores of others just like him, who, while game law 

 violations are going on all about them by their neighbors, 

 will do not the first thing to put an end to the disgraceful 

 condition of affairs, but are always ready to write to a paper 

 a thousand miles away and accuse outsiders without any 

 very particular care whether wliat they charge can actually 

 be substantiated by the facts in the case. 



In conclusion, if any citizen of the State of Michigan, or 

 of any other State, has any evidence to show that "King- 

 fisher" or any olher tried and true correspondent of the 

 roREST MW Stream professes one thing in print and 

 practices the reverse in the woods, he is invited to send it in. 

 We are always ready to expose anything of tliis sort, but we 

 do not propose to take away any man's good name without 

 reason. 



The "Kingfishers" are not jail -birds. 



Address all communications to the Forest and iStream JPublish- 

 ing Co. 



REFLECTIONS. 



T STtJMBLBD on a woodland pool one day 



Deep in the -naldwood, 'neath a mighty rock 

 That overhung as though the tiny shock 

 Of bird-feet might o"erbalance. One light lay 

 Shone through the branches bright, and. dazzUng, lay 

 White as a diamond flash upon the loch. 

 The sleepy trees, nid-nodding, seemed to stand 

 Upon a narrow ledge, with space below, 

 Through which more trees grew downward, as would grow 

 The woodland of some unknown fairyland. 

 Trees in some strange, far-off antipodes; 

 While every shade among the leaves above, 

 From scarlet m^ple to the breast of dove, 

 Gleamed fi-om the mirror undisturbed by breeze. 



John Pbeston True. 



ST. LOUIS. 



THE St. Louis convention of sportsmen, game dealers and 

 fish commissioners will be held next week, beginning 

 Tuesday. The meeting will be watched w ith great interest, 

 and it is to be hoped that some practical advance in the 

 methods of efficient game protection will be made. There 

 will be so many diverse interests and opinions to be harmon- 

 ized, that no immediat,e result of great moment can reason _ 

 ably be looked tor. The sportsmen and the fish commission, 

 ers may agree on most points, but the greatest difficulty wilt 

 be encountered when any attempt is made to enlist the co- 

 operation of the market dealers in anything like efficient and 

 sufficient restrictions of game killing and selling. The 

 sportsmen who are going to St. Louis will not make a mis- 

 take in t X' rcising every precaution to keep the work of the 

 meeting strictly on the line of the interest of proper game 

 protection. There will be, of course, a very enjoyable series 

 of irap-shooting matches. But the persons who are attracted 

 by these matches will not be likely to show themselves 

 equipped with any well-digested schemes of game protection, 

 and the practical results of the convention will not be greatly 



advanced by tht^m. 



The Creedmoor Meet. — We are glad to see that the lib- 

 eral policy of the Directors of the National Rifle Association 

 in making up the fall meeting programme has been appreci- 

 ated by the marksmen, and that so far as appearances go the 

 tthireenth fall gathering at Creedmoor is a success. The 

 weather has been variable, but on the whole good. In our next 

 issue we shall give full details of the meeting as far as pos- 

 sible, to the time of going to press, noting tlie conditions of 

 each m; tcb and the full scores of winners and other leaders 

 in the competiti ons. 



The Woods.— The woods are beginning to change their 

 hue of green for the brighter colors of the autumn, yet how 

 few of the dwellers in town and city ever think of going 

 out to the hills and mountains to behold this autumnal 

 splendor. Why is it that while as a rule men and women 

 care nothing for the charms of nature, as open to them in 

 every neighboring woodland, they will hurry and scurry in 

 indecent haste to those same woods to gaze stupidly at the 

 spot where a murder has been committed? 



The Forestry Congress, now in session at Boston, is 

 one of the encouraging signs of the times. 



A RECENT EPISODE. 



AT THE present time of writing, I confess to a certain 

 degree of fellow feeling with that despised individual, 

 the tramp. I can understand his dislike for active work, his 

 continued tendency toward complete idleness, and disposi- 

 tion to wander listlessly from place to place. And last, but 

 not least, his penchant for wearing shabby clothes, in which, 

 without fear of soilful consequences, he can throw himself 

 down upon mother earth regardless of lime or place. 



For am 1 not to a certain degree a sort of maritime tramp 

 in blue shirt and well worn apparel? Do I not take an in- 

 dolent pleasure in doing nothing with all the inactivity of 

 which I am at present capable? Do not I dawdle listlessly 

 from the bow to the stern of the sailing vessel on which a 

 few of us are taking our vacation trip to far away Labrador, 

 and experience a positive pleasure in casting myself reck- 

 lessly on the not over clean deck in the sunshine, or in hoist- 

 ing myself tentatively on the nearest water cask with a view 

 of discovering the most comfortable lounging place? 



Wind and fog bound, the Polar Star is lying at anchor in 

 what is locally known as Little Bras d'Or Lake, in contra- 

 distinction to Big Bras d'Or, from which the former is 

 divided by a long island called Bouladerie. The Bras d'Or 

 lakes are the wider parts of certain intricate passages or 

 straits which, extending throusjh almost the entire length of 

 Bape Breton Island, are entered from the Atlantic Ocean on 

 the south and empty into the Gulf of St. Lawrence on the 

 north. Perfectly land-locked, the picturesque scenery on 

 either hand makes the passage through them with a fair 

 wind one of the most charming trips imaginable. 



"Why called Bras d'Or (Arm of Gold). Captain?" I in- 

 quire, as the swarthy-featured Acadian sailing master of the 

 Polar Star approaches with a wooden pipe between his white 

 teeth and both hands thrust deep in his pockets. 



"J'n sais pas," is the brief answer, for Captain Baudet is 

 not only a man of few words, but, moreover, is inwardly 

 chafing at our enforced delay, being in a hurry to complete 

 the voyage and return to his family. 



The Student, who, standing at the rail, is catching rock 

 cod as fast as he can pull them in, directs my attention by a 

 brief gesture to the bluffs of red and brown sandstone which 

 rise almost perpendicularly from the water's edge to a height 

 of from two to three hundred feet. Over their rounding 

 summits and in places extending half way adown the sides 

 of the cliffs are patches of intensely green verdure in fine 

 and strong contrast to their reddish-brown background. 



The western sun, with its cloud-wreathing of purple and 

 crimson, is preparing for its evening plunge in the waters of 

 the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which lies far-reaching and beau- 

 tiful before us. and as it gradually touches the rim of the 

 horizon sends forth a wondrous glow which bathes the cliffs 

 of Little Bras d'Or in a flood of tawny gold. 



"Some — 'er hundreds of years ago," remarks the Student, 

 who, evidently rather lame in his chronology, supplies the 

 lack'thereof by a vividness of imagination that is quite re- 

 markable in one so young, "a shallop, manned by a company 

 of hardy voyagers from Brittany, dropped anchor after a 

 Inng and tempestuous voj'age in, well, I— 1— think," said the 

 Student, fingering his line rather nervously and glancing 

 about him a little hesitatingly as one who cuuld not locate 

 the precise fpot within, say, a fathom or two, "in the imme- 

 diate vicinity of our present anchorage." 



"Here, here," softly remarked the Professor, as he un- 

 hooked, not a cod, but a handsome three-pound salt-water 

 trout with an air of affected indifference. 



"The sun was setting as they furled their sails," continued 

 the Student, affecting not to hear the Professor, "and as their 

 eyes rested upon a picture similar to that [with a nod shore- 

 ward], one of their number, with poetic enthusiasm peculiar 

 to his race, shouted 'Bras d'or!' and this was the origin of 

 the name." 



I saw by the play of the Historian's expressive features as 

 he washed his hands in a bucket of salt water that he was 

 preparing to come down, so to speak, on the unfortunate 

 Student with such an array of names, dates and historical 

 facts as would cover him with confusion as with a garment, 

 and felt iatensely relieved as the summons to dinner sounded 

 forth from aft. 



I lingered a little for a final glance. The golden gleams 

 of sunset gave place to a rosy afterglow, such as one some- 

 times sees on canvas in De Haas's best moods. On the op- 

 posite side of the straits, bathed in the ruddy coloring of the 

 dying day, green fields alternating with forests of stunted 

 fir and pine, slope steeply downward from a range of lofty 

 hills which extending southward blend hazily and are lost 

 in the now fas^t gathering twilight. The light spots here and 

 there at intervals of a half or three-quarters of a mile, show- 

 ing dimly against the background of green, are the white- 

 washed farmhouses on the Bouladerie side of the island Our 

 Celtic pilot, a red-visaged fisherman, wearing a "jersey" and 

 lone: sea boots into the tops of which are tucked his moleskin 



arrive once in two months, according to the severity of the 

 winter and thickness of the ice. 



Hospitality among the Cape Breton Islanders begins with 

 the heartiest of welcomes to the stranger, and advancing bv 

 easy stages to a liquid form in Ihe shape of huge bowls of 

 rich creamy milk, winds up with the innumerable question- 

 ing regarding "the news," peculiar to a people who, to a 

 certain extent, are isolated from the world. Before we left, 

 the Professor (who is somewhat of an invalid) had sur- 

 rounded seven glasses of the lacteal fluid, and as he after- 

 ward said, had answered by actual count, 107 distinct 

 questions. After which, declaring himself too full for 

 further utterance, he gave the signal for departure. 



When we reach the Polar Star we find the Sportsman, who 

 has also been ashore but in another direction, sitting on the 

 top of the little "trunk" cabin, overhauling a most compre 

 hensive assortment of rainbow hued flies, silk lines, gut 

 leaders and all the piscatoiial paraplieroalia so dear to the 

 heart of those who follow — even a long way off — in the foot- 

 prints of gentle Izaak Walton. 



The Sportsman, who is a short thick-set man, with a thick 

 brown beard and a keen gray eye, hath a fashion of cUp- 

 ping his speech as short as may be, and the while speaking 

 as rapidly as Phillips Brooks, though perhaps not quite as 

 eloquently. He looks up as we clamber over the vessel's 

 side. 



"Say, fellers," he remarks, with a painful disregard of the 

 proprieties of grammar, and of the respect due to two pro- 

 fessors of as many different colleges, a live author, a histor- 

 ian and eke the present writer^ "saw the daisiest double 

 'Greener' 's forenoon ever feller put to 's shoulder." 



"Daisiest double Greener," interrogatively echoes the 

 youngest professor with a puzzled look. And as he feebly 

 scratches his head with the point of the pencil which, with 

 his note book, he has drawn from his pocket, I fancy that 

 he vaguely connects the "daisiest, etc.," with some new 

 botanical specimen. 



"Yes, sir," continues the Sportsman, carefully examining 

 the tip of his favorite split bamboo rod, "Cap'n of that little 

 forty-tonner just round the point owns it — told me he grap- 

 pled it up from wreck of ship Lord Duf'rin.that went ashore 

 on Ko Name Ledges last October— all hands lost, bodies 

 washed up, and all buried in one grave just above high-water 

 mark. Aint much on poetry myself," the Sportsman mod- 

 estly admits as he pulls a soiled envelope, on the blank side 

 of which are some lines scrawled in pencil, "but some one's 

 stuck up a wooden head board over the grave, and cut this 

 verse, that I thought was — er — mighty pathetic and all that 

 sort of thing." 



Clearing his throat, the Sportsman glances at our expect- 

 ant faces, and reads in the singsong voice peculiar to the 

 youth who attend the country schools as follows: 



t' fishin' banks t' sayson." 



On the following morning we all go ashore. Two miles 

 to the post office, which is in effect a corner cupboard 

 in a farmhouse kitchen. It brinffs vividly to mind an ex- 

 tract from one of John Phoenix's descriptions of a small 

 California town; "There is a post office thiere, where I once 

 saw a man call for a letter, receive it, and walk away 

 chuckling." The mail in midsummer arrives and leaves 

 twice a month. The rest of the year it may or may not 



"Pause, stranger, pa\ise as you are passing by, 

 And view the place where sixteen bodies lie. 

 The ship Lord Dufferin with her gallant crew 

 Struck No name ledges and was split in two 

 October twenty-first, in 1883, 

 They perished all in one tremendous sea. 

 Weep for their wives and children and for the parents dear. 

 Whose husbands, sons and brothers at rest he sleeping here. 

 Prepare ye too, for death, for come to you it may. 

 As sudden as to this bold crew, Uke them ye are but clay." 



"What an elocutionist he would have made," remarks 

 the Profes.sor of Natural History at a college in a very aud- 

 ible aside, with evident reference to the Sportsman, who 

 affecting not to hear the remark, looks, nevertheless, im- 

 mensely gratified as he pockets the crumpled envelope, and 

 with the aid of his fingers and strong white teeth, begins 

 clearing the twists in a badly mixed salmon line, which of 

 course, with what some one has called "the total depravity 

 of inaminate objects," persists in "snarling" worse than ever 

 thereby, establishing a precedent for the Sportsman himself, 

 whose muttered "confound the thing!" draws from the His- 

 torian a cmel paraphrase of the words of Cap'n Jack 

 Bunsby: "If knot, whine not," having perpetrated which, 

 he retreats rapidly for'ard followed by abusive epithets and 

 a heavy rubber boot. 



"Rum old bird the skipper of that little forty-ton schooner 

 is," again remarks the Sportsman, who, having at last cleared 

 hi's line, is deftly coiling it in readiness for winding it on his 

 reel. "He and one man run the schooner; they've just now 

 got back from a trip up to the nor'we^t coast of Greenland." 



The Student gives an involuntary sniff; not, be it remem- 

 bered, as expressive of unbelief in the Sportsman's statement, 

 but by reason of an appetizing odor which is wafted aft 

 from the suddenly opened galley door, where a dozen or 

 more curlew, shot the evening before, are stewing, while at 

 the same time certain slices of an eight-pound salmon (price 

 twenty cents) taken in a set net within half a cable's length 

 of the schooner, are broiling and sputtering over the coals. 



"Well," absently asks the Student, stifling a faint sigh as 

 the galley door is pulled suddenly to, "What did they go up 

 to Greenland for— pleasure?" 



"Oh, of course," ironically observes the Author betore the 

 Sportsman could make a reply, "Twenty odd days among 

 icebergs and white bears and— and things, with the mercury 

 in the thermometer considerably below zero, would be noth- 

 ing but a pleasure trip for two men in a forty-ton schooner." 



"Tradiu' voyage with the natives and Indians on the 

 coast," explains the Sportsman, ignoring the Author's mild 

 sarcasm at the Student's expense. ' 'They carried up tobacco 

 and notions, and brought back seal skins and od, feathers, 

 moccasins and all sorts of truck; 'mong other things they ve 

 got nio-h a half a hold full of peck baskets that 11 hold water; 

 cost 'em in trade 'bout six cents a piece— low enough eh?" 



"Low the poor Indian," murmurs the Historian, who has 

 rejoined our little group, but the equivoque meets with the 

 silent scorn it merits, and. encouraged by the attention given 

 to his remarks, the Sportsman again takes up his parable, 

 and gives us various bits of information derived from his in- 

 terview with Captain Lechapel. . 



How the Captain only the day before haa "stopped six 

 wild "eese with the right-hand barrel of the Greener and six 

 with 'the other (whistle of incredulity from three distinct 

 sources)- of the condition of the brant in the spring, whereby 

 when shot on the wing and falling on the ice they burst 

 asunder by reason of extreme fatness; of the tame brant used 

 by the sportsmen at Port Pre, which are sent out into the 

 harbor, and, having tolled their wild brethren within gun- 

 shot, get themselves rapidly out of range of the death-dealing 

 gun.' whose owner lies perdu behind a blind on the shore— 



"Dinner, gentlemen!" ^ ^ ^ 



******* 



"Well " remarks the Professor, surreptitiously wiping his 

 mouth on the sleeve of his blue flannel shirt as we emerge 

 from the cabin half an hour later, "to paraphrase old 



