166 



FOREST AND STftEAM. 



[SEt-T. 34, 188b. 



Following the directions of the farmer we toolc the back 

 traclfj but the fool bronchos did not have sense enough, or 

 were too blind lo follow the road, and we soon became 

 aware of the fact that Vv'e were off from it and driving 

 through the ;grass. Jack and the driver got out, and after 

 long searcb ;.t last found it. Not long tb'ereafter getting off 

 agam, and not being able to find itj we drove badi to the 

 farmhouse, where the light still served as a beacon, and 

 took another si art. Having gone a mile or more we once 

 inoie got oil the road at a point where there was a bad 

 place across a draw, and a temporary road had been worn 

 around it. At this place, which we all remembered well; it 

 was half an hour before we got straightened out again, and 

 even then Jack swore the wind had certainly changed this 

 time, and ■rce were driving away from town. And he kept 

 up ttiis protest till we came to a farmhouse near a bridge, 

 where there was a furious stench from an overcrowded hog 

 pen that none of us could mistake as the place we had 

 already passed three times in our pilgrimage. 



There were other landmarks between ^iis and town, and 

 when we did not reach them as soon as Jack thought we 

 ought he would insist that we were on the wi-ong road. But 

 I continually called his attention to the fact that the cold 

 north wind was blowing on my left cheek, and that oun 

 course was eastward — the very direction necessarv •'- ' - 

 home. The relief to the party, and espf""= 

 we at last Hghted the stro*'-'" < ■'. 

 wiU never, b*^ — 



..■;it day, and Jack's score 

 - , c lound at the hotel some fresh arrivals 

 uuuters, but learned in a few days afterward that 

 the cold snap whicti had set in drove all the geese southward 

 and there was no more shooting that winter. The boys are 

 talking of a big bunt this full, but have not determined' where 

 to go. 1 very much fear that on account of bad health 1 

 will not be able to accompany them. Boer H. Poi>k. 

 Lincoln, i^ebraslia. 



a set of pipes and pair of wings. They look like pigeons 

 almost on the wing; but stripped for the broiler a robin com- 

 pares favorably in size. But notice that pm-e white rich 

 fat an eighth of an inch thick. That cooks into the bird as 

 it broils, and no larded quail was ever so rich as tliese, nor 

 so dehcate with gamy flavor. Well, we'll never get to work 

 if we digress or rather anticipate in this way. Our journey 

 was as uneventful as most short ones by rail are, except 

 that as we drew^ near to Chatham the odor of the prae salt 

 air, fresh from old ocean's breast, was upon us to cap the 

 stronger scents from the salt marshes, along and through 

 which we had traveled, ever on the alert to catch the sight 

 of bunches of birds, as startled by the train they sped away 

 to c^uieter and more undisturbed feeding grounds, whistling 

 the old familiar notes. 



Chatham found Dave awaiting us; thin, wiry, and tanned 

 like a copper cent, his close-twisted curly hair, like his skin 

 and beard, showing exposure without stint to all kinds of 

 weather. His eyes twinkled and snapped, and he saluted us 

 with "Wall, I swon! 1 was tellin' Cynth this mornin' thet 

 I'd bet ye'd bo here; sure and here ye air and in-^i-" ' 

 derful well tew. Eeckin yeon'i' 

 Be gosh, I jip-tr— ' 

 tn — ' • ■ • 



SNIPING. 



t^TTELLO Harry. Say, I've just got a letter from 

 jOL Dave, and he says tiie birds have come along, and if 

 we start right down we'll have good shooting. What do you 

 say"? Can you go?" 



This was* my welcome greeting to my friend and shooting 

 chum, Harry C., as he entered my office on India Wharf 

 one pleasant morning in August. Dave was our sentinel 

 down at Chatham, on old (Jape Cod, and every one but he 

 and we wondered how it was that we were always so lucky in 

 striking a flight of birds. But he knew that twenty-four 

 hour.s later would see us on hand ready for business and the 

 proois that we generally brought away usually convinced 

 our friends at home that business had been good and that it 

 had been carefully and pioperly attended to by us. With us 

 it was a pleasure to do business of that kind. 



"Well, my boy, I guess 1 can get aboard to-morrow morn- 

 ing's train if nothing breaks. All we need is dud«, guns 

 and shells, isn't it? Our stools are down there still. 1 think 

 I've enough shells loaded." 



As if I didn't know that the anxious fellow had loaded 

 enough sliclls in the last month with No 8, and stacked 

 them away to kill pretty nearly all the tiirds on the Atlantic 

 coast, and it would't have taken very big odds to have got 

 lue to Let that his traps were all packed, strapped and down 

 in the front hall even then and had been there for a week 

 past just awaiting for this word to come. If he got impa- 

 tient of an evening he'd stay oil up stairs and load a few 

 more, and get out his old No, 10 and look it over once more; 

 and surround himself with all his paraphernalia; and sit 

 down on his trunk, and with gun in hand, softly whistle 

 up an imaginary "yelper" or "beetle head," until suddenly, 

 as if he had him in range, he'd jump up with "fla, my 

 pretty, do you think you can get away now." Snap! and 

 "There you are, and now tor the nest." This is the way he 

 would fill the aching void waiting for the glad tidings "that 

 the victims had aiTived. 



Ready tomorrow morning! So nonchanantly, well 1 

 should say so, was my unspoken comment, but I added 

 audibly, "All right then. Meet you at the Old Colony 7:15 

 sharp, and we'll scoot on the 7:30. JSiow you just skip, will 

 you, for I've lots to do so as to leave everything straight, so 

 we can stay a week if everything holds out." And away he 

 went. jSIext morning- saw us on hand with our traps, and 

 two school boys never welcomed the final start for the circus 

 more than we the ding-dong and puff-puff of the engine that 

 at last got us in motion, while we, snugly ensconced in the 

 smoker, cigars in mouth, rehearsed the ghost stories of 

 former shoots, and enjoyed as much, I do believe, in pleasant 

 anticipations as if our sport had begun and we were actually 

 cuttiog them down. 



To me there is a charm in bay bird shooting. In fact 

 many. Comfortably seated in your bhnd with the sea 

 breeze gently fanning your face and cooling your pulses and 

 lending you' new vigor with every breath you draw, with the 

 grand view of the majestic ocean spreading before you, or 

 the more placid beauty of the land-locked bay, dotted with 

 its white sails, or with occasionally an ocean steamer dj-aw- 

 ing up gradually and as gradually sinking to the horizon 

 beyond, with the magnificent and ever-changing panorama of 

 sky and sea spread out before you in all its grandeur, inspir- 

 ing in you thoughts that nature's noblest and most solitary 

 scenery ever bids rise. So with your pipe giving comfort to 

 the soiil at ease you scan the clouds. Suddenly something 

 catches your eyes, something moving far away. The 

 sua flashes on" it as from the polished surface of a 

 glass, it's the glancing wing of a bird, and as the 

 focus is perfected you see it is a bunch. Down! 

 Down! it's a bunch of "yellowlegs ! and crouching low and 

 motionless you whistle loud their call; some one or two re- 

 spond, they waver, whirl and call again. Another call from 

 you; they answer and draw toward you and all the time 

 you're talking to one another until finally they see your 

 stools, and hustling one another they draw to windward and 

 then swing down again, and whirling to leeward they set 

 their wings as head lo the wind they bunch and hover to 

 alight. They look a tangled mass of feet and wings, and as 

 you rake them first one barrel and then the other, as they 

 jump, out you throw the olrl shells and slip in a couple 

 "more, whistling all the time, to which the wounded and 

 winf-tipped add their calls and perhaps back the others 

 come again, and another two barrels tell their story. 

 Now hurry and gather them before another bunch draws 

 in. Chase down the wing-tipped and lift the stone dead 

 last. What modest-looking little fellows they are, for such 



xried scollops and 

 _ j^uug Diack-brcastcd plover stewed up 

 ^.uu Johnny-cake and coffee. Our appetites needed 

 Qo urging, and for about fifteen or twenty minutes we were 

 too busy to talk. Then we went off into the shade and lay 

 off on the grass. So for an hour we lay and smoked and 

 dreamed and enjoyed the (Mce far iiieAite as only thetliorough 

 sportsman with good digestion can, when well stuffed and 

 sprawled out on the bosom of mother earth, with the ligbt- 

 blue heavens above him, where the driving clouds chase one 

 another by, and the salt-laden breeze from the ocean fills the 

 lungs with the pure ozone (that Barnum discovered, I believe) 

 and makes him at peace with himself, his neighbora and the 

 world. Care and boiled shirts are forgotten together, and he 

 deliciously anticipates the morrow, and his pulses tingle with 

 excitement as the thought of fast and furious volleys absorb 

 his mind, while he indulges in his happy day dreams. At last 

 Harry heaves a grunt, 1 can't dignify it by calling it a sigh, 

 and thus holds forth "Come, you lazy runt, get up! we've got 

 to get things in shape for to-morrow. Dave says the tide 

 serves on the flat about 9 o'clock, and we have to be off by 

 six sure." So up we rise and everything is unpacked, until 

 OUT room looks like a garrison in a state of siege ; guns, shell, 

 wiping rods, shooting coats, wading boots, etc , everywhere 

 each lays out his rig and about 100 shells loaded with No. 

 8i with a few 6s for long shots, and so supper time finds 

 everything fixed. Mrs. N., recollecting our taste for cod 

 fried in with salt pork in the old-fashioned style, has made 

 that the piece de resistance. 



"Ugh! What's the matter? What's that?" and I jump 

 up in bed with a senseof wetness. "Come, get up! Jump! 

 Breakfast is ready, and we want to get off if you expect to 

 do any shooting to-day;" and I find that Harry has smashed 

 me plump in the face with my big sponge soaked full of 

 water. He dodges my return volley, and soon we meet 

 below as if nothing of the kind had happened above; his 

 bread is cast on the waters, he knows it will return before 

 many days. We tuck away a hearty breakfast and start for 

 the boat, laden down with traps, provisions and water, for 

 we have iibout ten miles down the bay to sail to reach the 

 flats, whi';h are interminable beds of sand just above low 

 water level, which extend from Chatham fifteen or twenty 

 miles south into the broad Atlantic to where Chatham Light 

 marks the extreme southern limit of Cape Cod. We sail as 

 far as the beach runs, and then start out on the sands about 

 half a mile until we come to a few slight hummocks in the 

 dead white shining level, sufficiently high to make islands of 

 them until nearly lull flood. In each is sunk a big dry goods 

 box, with seats and shelves for shells, etc., and we each take 

 po.s8ession of two a short gunshot apart, and after setting 

 our decoys wait for the rising tide to set the birds to trad- 

 ing, gradually driving them toward our islands in the center, 

 where they fondly hope to find security, but, alas, to-day 

 they'll find three yawning pairs of gun barrels and doses of 

 No. 8 shot. 



Soon comes a whistle from Harry; all hands duck, and 

 cautiously peeping over the top of our box we see far out 

 over the sands a pair of big birds steadily drawing in to us. 

 They'll come to him first, and we get ready to wipe his eye 

 if he fails to connect. Here they are, the first of the season. 

 Innocently, unsuspiciously they pipe away and swing within 

 easy range and set their wings to light, when up pops Harry 

 like a jack-in-a-box, and bang bang, and a cluster of feathers 

 drifting down wind like the smoke tells they are down-— a 

 pair of spot rumps as they call them here; further south they 

 are ring-tailed marline. Fine fellows they, like a fall wood- 

 cock in bill, eye and plumage, and rivalhng him in delicacy 

 of flesh; but their legs — they make you think there is a mis- 

 take somewhere, or else these fellows had a "shanghai" 

 father. 



Look out! 1 heard a beetle-head, and again he whistles. 

 Yes, there he is away up. How dark his black breast looks. 

 He is a youngster, for at first call he responds, and spying 

 the stools, with a swoop he is on the way to us. in he swings, 

 and impatient, I bang away and miss him clean. Like a 

 flash he turns, hnt the next barrel reaches him. He is only 

 wing-tipped, and sailing down he starts on the run. Unfor- 

 tunate, but out of the box I jump and after him, slipping in 

 a shell as I run, and on a long shot drop him, and Quick as 

 possible am back in the box. None too soon, for see that 

 bunch of robin snipe swinging in, and close and evenly they 

 fly, and right behmd see that flock of willet. The red breasts 

 will just aoout get to Harry and Dave as the willet pass me, 

 so I call quietly to tell them to wait until I shoot, as I'll let 

 the willet get a little by before I pull, so we can surround 

 them and all have a chance. Down close! there go the 

 robins! here are the willet! a napkin would cover the dozen 

 of them! hold steady now! what a volley! and as the smoUe 

 blows away, what a prize. We all jump out and gather 

 them in. Harry and Dave have cut their bunch all to pieces, 

 only three get away; and they gather in some sixteen fat fel- 

 lows with joyful pride. "While 1, "Oh, teU it not in 

 Gath," have kided my bunch entire, eleven plump willet lie 

 stretched upon the sand : in fact, they were so closely bunched 

 that to shoot for one was to shoot for all, and that's what I 

 did. But back quick, here's something coming. A sickle 

 bill curlew, alone and sohtary, by all that's rare, and I have 

 the first chance! As he draws I hold carefully on him and 

 pull, but he keeps on— and again missed clean, by Jove! 

 Harry tries him, but he's moving and drawing away fast 

 and still goes on. Bang again, he wavers, flies a hundred 



yards or more and drops like a stone. Away rashes Harry, 

 grabs him and scurries back, looks him over and calls out 

 "Hit him with only one pellet, and that took the top of his 

 head off." ^ 



A whistle from Dave, and we see them coming in a 

 mingled bunch, from which we can hear curlew, ~ beetle- 

 heads, yelpers, willet and marhne calling in iturns. and 

 mingling their whistling till it sounds as "if they were all 

 talking at once, evidently a squad from some outlying point 

 of bar, that are bound to get where they can enjoy a peace- 

 ful and quiet feed for a while, a general clearing out away 

 from the sea, which is now coming over the sands like a 

 race horse, as we can see it far away. So they are coming 

 in to us to be quiet. Whew! how mistaken they'll be. On 

 they come piping away, while six good barrels await them. 

 We crouch low and whistle away to encourage them. Here 

 they are past Dave, and he rises up behind them and cuts 

 loose; the feathers fly; bewildered they scatter and draw 

 together instantly, only to get Harry's shot, while I add to 

 thp!'- -'ownfall with two sharp discharges "head on." They 

 id swing each way, and Dave and Harry whistling 

 while the wounded are calling too, one bunch swings 

 hover over them. They are ready; four barrels 

 igain, and the thinned remnant of the bunch tarries 

 rer, it's too hot. Away they go after the others, fly- 

 ing like streaks, while all hands jump out to retrieve until 

 Dave, far out on the sands after an obstinate brant bird that 

 will not be killed quickly and without trouble, suddenly 

 drops flat and lets the bird go and begins whistling. We 

 are up to concert pitch now, and soon see what his sharp 

 eyes, accustomed to scanning the sky and sea far away, has 

 caught at a glance. One solitar}' big marline coming, away 

 up, and as he passes Dave rises on one knee and shoots. 

 We except to see him drop, but he don't, and he gives it 

 to him again. He is hit, but he mounts straight up, flying 

 in short, sharp circles, while the breeze carries him out and 

 out to sea. We sit and watch him until he is a speck in the 

 clouds, then lost to sight. He is hit, but he will fly until 

 he drops stone-dead into the ocean, food for the fishes. Too 

 bad to lose him, but such is the luck. 



Once more on watch; not long to wait; another motley 

 bunch, mostly marline. How handsome they look as the sun 

 shines through their pinions and burnishes their backs of 

 dusky rich brown. What bold, free flyers, they are coming 

 and going like the wind, their long black bills held so proudly 

 out before. We'll count some of those hills this evening. 

 No, some other evening, for Harry has carelessly shown 

 himself and these shy fellows have darted out of range, tak- 

 ing the rest with them, Whistling or stools won't fool those 

 fellows when they see what's behind it; then all hands, in- 

 cluding himself, bless Harry for a nice intelligent fellow, to 

 go sniping. 



WIm-ii-iMJ-u, w/iee-u-u-u-u-9i. Lay low now, Harry, my 

 boy. These boys won't quit so ea.sy. They are bound to 

 come. A perfect swarm of summer yellowlegs that have 

 wandered from their favorite marshes above. We are ready 

 for them. They circle down and around, and awing and 

 swing and swing, and wheel and whirl, and down they come 

 all talking at once, as thick as a barn door, hustling each 

 other to get to those decoys Itrst. Now wait until they 

 swing in as they wheel and as you catch them right rake 

 them down the line. Whang! what a drop, and once again; 

 but nothing disconcerted they wheel once or twice more and 

 respond to Harry's whistling and try his stools; and poor 

 Dave, not to be denied after Plarry has cut a double swathe 

 through fhem, lets go at about a hundred yards and blamed 

 if two or three don't drop. And so it goes. They come in 

 singles, doubles and bunches, first lo one and then to another. 

 The sport gi'ows fast and furious until they are gone, and 

 the sea, rushing in over the sands like a racehorse, begins to 

 invade our territory, and as the birds have all left and will 

 not b3gin to come back until the ebb, and we are not going 

 to wait for that, we gather our stools in bags, tie them into 

 the boxes, and with guns, birds and traps, start on our wade 

 back to the boat. 



The water is knee deep, and gets deeper fast, until we 

 come to a sort of little channel and then it's hard work to 

 keep shells and gun out of water until we reach the boat. 

 She is floating now in three feet of water, where we left her 

 beached high and dry, and we are so engrossed with count- 

 ing our bag, strung as they are through the bills on some 

 long wing pinions, that we leave Dave to handle both throat 

 and peak halliards alone and "up kellock," too, while we 

 decide that for the first day a sickle bill, ten marline, three 

 jack, fifteen willet and twenty rohin snipe, to say nothing 

 of about four dozen beetle-heads, brant birds and yellowlegs 

 together, are not such a bad day's work after all. Ninety- 

 seven big birds; what a glorious looking string they are. 

 How we wish we could show them as they are to the boys 

 to-night. 



I 'ave interrupts our revery with: "Say, yeou! there's some 

 bleuefish drails in ther cabin, and ef yeou git um eout, p'reps 

 yeou'il ketch er fish er tew goin' up." That's enough! We 

 jump, and soon two lines are trailing, with a fresh eel skin 

 over each drail, as they call squids down here, and soon a 

 lively jerk and a steady pull shows me that Harry has the 

 first fisn as well as the first bird to-day, and in comes a nice 

 four-pounder. But I soon follow suit, and when we make 

 the landing, eight or ten nice blueboys are gasping out their 

 lives in the wooden box that Dave always carries for such 

 emergencies. Staggering under the load of fish and birds 

 and guns, we mount the piazza, tired and hungry mortals, 

 for we had forgotten to eat all day. As we resembled Dave's 

 porcine pets shortly after, on what transpired we'll draw the 

 curtain; but if you enjoyed our story so far, we'll draw it 

 aside and give you more of it. 



WESTERii ELoniDA.— Tallahassee, Fla., Sept. 15.— In 

 your paper of Sept, JO, "Special," writing from Boston, 

 Mass., asks where good hunting can be found. Were he in 

 Western Florida he could scarcely speak so despairmgly. 

 One can take his gun and dog and find from one to two 

 hundred quail, or^'partridge, as they call them here, almost 

 any day. Ducks come by thousands a little later than this, 

 and the numerous lakes afford the best of sport in that line. 

 Deer and bear can be found within from ten to twenty miles 

 of this city, and a friend of mine told me to-day he got up a 

 flock of sixty wild turkeys last week and bagged eight of 

 them. Alligator shooting is a novelty to most sportsmen, 

 and it is here to perfection. The climate is mild in winter, 

 accommodations are good in many of the hotels, etc., and it 

 is no trouble to get companions who can guide the hunter- 

 to all the sport he desires. I am much interested in the: 

 rifle trials you propose making, and think you deserve the 

 thanks and hearty support of every man who shoots a gun. — 

 E. W. D. 



