428 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



mmU, 1886. 



using 100 grains of strong powder and a particular express 

 ball of 370 grains. It makes fabout a 6|-incli curve in two 

 hundred yards and the ball flies very true. I use also in 

 the .45 caliber the .44-caliber ball before alluded to, using 

 three thicknesses of patch paper. It flies remarkably true 

 for its weight, and makes a 6.34-inch curve per 200 yards, 

 with 110 grains 0. & H. No. 6. I failed to say at the 

 proper place that the degree of hardness or per cent, of al- 

 loy had a great deal to do with the execution, as well as 

 accuracy of flight of the express ball. When pure lead, 

 they break up too soon. Nor h.ave I ever taiown a, reason- 

 able degree of accuracy obtained with any lead ball with a 

 comparatively large charge, beyoud 50 or 75 yards. They 

 are knocked out of proper shape by the time they leave the 

 muzzle. This want of accuracy has been observed with the 

 best English express rifles with light leaden balls, I find in 

 my experience with the balls of my preference (as above) 

 that from 5 per cent, for the heavier ball to 8 per cent, for 

 the lighter is best. 



A 20 bore double-barrel shotgun, made by Bland & Sons, 

 of London (chambered for the Kynoch brass shell), for ducks, 

 the several species of grouse, jack rabbits, magpies, skunks, 

 etc. , complete my battery, l" value the latter very highly for 

 its "executive ability/' combined with a weight of only six 

 pounds. 



1 have wi'itten you a long letter, a kind of ormimm-ffalMriim 

 letter; much in detail, because I think it is the details that 

 make the account of hunting trips interesting. I hope its 

 perusal may not bore you, but interest you as much as the 

 recalling of its incidents has interested me. 



You have seen several mentions made of Four Bear Creek. 

 The name was given it for want of a better one by the U. S. 

 Land Surveyors, who happed to be in camp on Hell-Roaring 

 River, uear the creek's mouth, on the night in which I 

 killed four bears, the last about 9:30 o'clock at night. Some 

 time 1 may write you an account of it. Your friend, P. 



IN THE FORESTS OF NEW BRUNSWICK. 



IV. 



IT is about the end of the first week in October, on a Sab- 

 bath morning, that I sit alone in the door of my camp 

 close to the shore of the Little Southwest Miramichi Lake. 

 Flies buzz around my head, while the warm wind sighs 

 among the topmost boughs of the tall pines which overhang 

 the lake. Nature has no sound like this, so soothing yet so 

 sad. A little to the west of ray seat the sun shines through 

 the pointed top of a tall white spruce, making its leaves 

 appear as if of silver spray, while looking through the dense 

 and darker foliage of the trees which stand to the north I 

 get occasional ghmpses of the blue waters of the lake. The 

 wind is dying away, and I hear no somid but the low plash 

 of the waves as they lazily touch the rocky shore, or the 

 mellowed roar of the distant rapids in the stream. The 

 sickly yellowish green of the leaves of the white bu-ches 

 around" rae bear witness to a departed summer, as does the 

 brownish red foliage of a cluster of mountain ashes, whose 

 bright red berries have lured more than one partridge to its 

 fate at our hands. 



On Monday morning I take the same seat, but how 

 changed is the scene. The center of the lake is all ice, for 

 the night had been very calm and cold. I see but two living 

 things near me — one a chipadee, hopping from bough to 

 bough over my head, every now and then venturing nearer 

 so long as I remain motionless, his note always the same 

 cMp-fi-dee-dec-dee, a sound of greeting more than an evidence 

 of afljjght; and in an unfrozen part of the lake is a solitary 

 little grebe .seeming to revel in the unwonted coldness of its 

 waters, as from time to time he plunges beneath the sur- 

 face. 



During the absence of the rest of the company the cook 

 and myself had not gone very far from our camp. Three 

 days had passed but neither men nor canoe had made their 

 apijearance; and it was with a good deal of pleasure that 

 early on the fom-th we saw a man among the bushes on the 

 opposite side of the lake, which was again free frem ice. 

 He called to us, and the cook, taking a catamaran which he 

 had made, crossed over to him. As they were crossing 

 others followed, and after a httle the canoe with two men in 

 it came in view. The man who had just crossed the lake 

 (Mr, Patchell) had in a bag on his back about fifty pounds 

 of caribou meat. It seems that when the advance party 

 were looking for surveyor's marks not far below the outlet 

 of the Little Southwest Lake, a cow caribou trotted up to 

 one of the party who had a gun charged with buckshot, 

 with which he fired at and killed her. This meat came in 

 good play, as they were short of provisions, and they at once 

 proceeded to dress the animal and to cut the flesh from the 

 bones, and as they had no salt they cured it by smoking. 

 This is done as follows : Four stakes are driven into the 

 ground; upon them is placed a frame work of fir {Abies 

 picea), a wood which does not communicate a flavor to food. 

 On this the strips of flesh are placed, while underneath them 

 a smoke is made. The flesh is turned from time to time, so 

 that it may be completely penetrated by the smoke. Should 

 the weather become damp the meat can be protected by a 

 covering of birch bark. When cured in this way it will be 

 good for months in warm weather, and without the addition 

 of salt. 



Our advance party had seen abundant signs of beaver, and 

 they had seen also some very large sea trout on their spawn- 

 ing beds. Our work connecting the surveyors' lines was soon 

 completed, the chief dilficulty having been to find the 

 marked trees indicated on our plans. When work was 

 finished I ascended to the top of a high hill looking north, 

 from which I could see an extensive forest-covered valley 

 hounded on the west by the Cow Mountains, and on the 

 north by the great range of hills on the head of the Nepisi- 

 guit River, some of which are over 2,000 feet high. In this 

 distant and, secluded valley moose and caribou are j^et 

 abundant, while in the streams salmon abound. I doubt if 

 one was ever taken here by means of a fly ; trout at the proper 

 season can be caught here with any kind of bait. 1 have 

 caught quantities of them from a great boulder which lies at 

 the mouth of the large stream emptying into the Little South- 

 west Lake from the west, with a book to which was fastened 

 a piece of red flannel by way of bait. 



Turning our faces homeward we took the log canoe, which 

 we had made, a mile and a half up the stream, leaving it at 

 the head of the dead water, where the moose had visited 

 us, we hauled it out over a log so that it might not be carried 

 away in the spring by the ice. 



On our first day's journey we got a;beaver in a trap which 

 we had set along the edge of the stream as we came down it. 

 This animal was soon killed and I could not but regret the 

 poor thing's fate, as it turned its gentle eyes toward me. I 

 could not taste the meat when it was cooked at night. 



As evening drew on some of the party who had gone 

 ahead pitched our Uttle cotton tent where we had placed it 

 before, making use of the same boughs we had used 

 on our former visit to the same spott We soon had a 

 blazing fire in front of two large spruce logs which would 

 reflect the heat directly into the tent. There is nothing so 

 good when one is camping out as to have good high back 

 logs, and if you can build your fire on a slight eminence 

 where it will be a few inches above the level of the berth, 

 you will get the whole benefit of your fire. We had left 

 behind one of our pardy, Heiu-y, to paddle up the dead water 

 on a catamaran. 



Night closed in and the bright stars twinkled in the clear 

 cold air, and Henry had not yet made his appearance. Our 

 Abenaki boy Frank got uneasy about him, and began to 

 whoop, but got no reply eicept that of hoo-koo-kus (the owl) 

 as he called him. An hour passed and still no Hemy. One 

 did not like to say that he was uneasy to the other. At 

 last Frank said: "Dan, let us go out and meet Henry ;" and 

 so off they started with birch bark torches, and more bark 

 under their arms to replenish the light. Time seemed long 

 to the rest of the party, as we gathered around our bright 

 fire. "Let us have tea ready for them when they come," 

 suggested one to the cook, who had his pork hissing merrily 

 in the frying-pan and water boiling in a large tin kettle. 



Still no Henry appeared. By the uncertain glare of the 

 flickering fire I wandered oif almost unconsciously to the 

 top of a little- eminence not far from the tent and seated mj^- 

 self on a fallen tree. I had not been musing there long before 

 I heard the sound of voices and saw the reflection of the 

 light from the returning torches on the tops of the distant 

 trees; and I was relieved to see three persons returning. 

 Frank had two splendid black ducks in his hand, while Dan 

 carried over his back a fine otter which Henry had caught at 

 the "Jaws." He had brought down four black ducks at one 

 shot, but had only secured two of them. The next morning 

 we were up bright and early, making our way out of the 

 forest in which we had been for more than a month. Three 

 days' travel brought us to the first house. Our trip was made 

 as timber explorers, and not as hunters. We took of game, 

 75 partridges, 17 black ducks, 1 beaver, 1 caribou and 1 

 otter. Besides these our party, or some of them as we were 

 wandering through the woo(is examining the trees, saw 3 

 moose, 4 caribou, 4 beavers and 2 bears; this will give an 

 idea of the game whit;h is to be found in the great forest 

 which covers the interior of the province of New Brimswick 

 and which would make the best park for a game preserve of 

 any place to be found in Eastern America, as the soil is too 

 stony for cultivation, while it abounds with streams, lakes 

 and dead waters. Edward Jack. 



PICTURES IN THE FIRE. 



ON the hearth in front of the cavernous old fire-place 

 there are two pahs of slippers. One pair is of buffalo 

 skin, rough-looking but very, very comfortable, as slippers 

 ought to be, for their wearer never attempted to insert a num- 

 ber nine foot into a number six slipper. The other pair are 

 unquestionably French both in material and fashion, and 

 as for dimensions they are almost as small as any Cinderella's 

 — and that's an honest admission and exception that the 

 second pair of slippers would awfully hate to make. 



A good dinner and an after-dinner smoke v^ith a pleasant 

 chat before a blazing fire sometimes superinduce a feeling 

 of drowsiness, especially if the chat halts too frequently and 

 gives one the opportunity to go wool-gathering, which Little 

 Slippers allowed during the lull in the harmless gossip, 

 Big Slippers was far away in dreamland, and that country, 

 this trip, was the laud of spruce and hemlock, rippling streams 

 and quiet lakes. 



It is pleasant when you can sit by your own fireside and 

 go a-fishing and oft times catch as mtmy fish as if you were 

 really among the hills and lakes and streams, up to your 

 knees in the purling brook and making your finest casts. 

 You are safe from rheumatism at any rate, and can help your 

 fancy to lead you into believing that the sound of the 

 roaring red blaze whirling up the ample chimney is the 

 soughing of the wind among the pines, the sparks that drop 

 from the crackling logs are the gleaming of the stars, the 

 angry flash at the gathering flames is the upward dart of a 

 trout, the smoke that whirls " forninst " the andirons are 

 the scudding clouds, and the shifting, changing shadows 

 among the chairs and tables are the gleams of moonlight that 

 pierce their way through the pines, while the old clofik in 

 the corner is the woodpecker beating his solitary reveille. 

 It makes a fellow feel for a while as though he would like 

 to live his life in dreamland, with the outside world only an 

 idea. 



There are pictures in the fire, but "the open fire-place does 

 not kindle the imagination so much as it awakens the memory ; 

 people become reminiscent in front of it," and to-night its 

 ruddy blaze recalls the face of the absent-minded doctor, 

 the gentle charming old man with his simple lionest ways. 

 Through the mists of years I can recall his oddities and his 

 pleasantries. 



As the charming "Back Log Studies" tell us, " To poke 

 a wood fire is more solid enjoyment than anything else in 

 the world. The crowning human virtue in a man is to let 

 his wife poke the fire." Big Slippers claims this virtue, and 

 moreover Little Slippers may get up early in the morning 

 and build the fire ; and still more, when the mornings are 

 particularly cold, Big Slippers will insist and demand that 

 she build it, and the colder the morning the more emphatic 

 the demand ; in fact it becomes a positive order. What an 

 admission, "The crowning human virtue," uraph! 



How the old doctor did love to fuss around a camp-fire. 

 Poking it here, tossing a stick there, pulling down one over 

 yonder, and pushing back any burning embers that had fallen 

 outside the proper bounds. "He went at a camp-fire much as 

 he^would at a patient whose malady was difficult of diagnosis, 

 an'd did it as carefully. I am afraid that notwithstanding the 

 many good qualities of the doctor he lacked the "crowning 

 human virtue," but he would perhaps excuse himself with the 

 plea that his wife did not understand poking a fire any better 

 than she did writing a prescription. 



In his office or at the camp-fire, the doctor was never caught 

 napping, but in all other places how dreary and abstracted 

 he sometimes became. We were once troUing with him on 

 the lake. It was a lazy afternoon and the doctor tied the 

 end of his line to one of the oar locks and picking up a piece 

 of wood whittled on it until it was cut away to his hand, 

 and then throwing his knife into the lake put what remained 

 of the stick into his pocket. The fishing being over, the 

 doctor hauled in his troll and wishing to cut his Hue close 

 up to the spoon, he pulled out the piece of wood and with- 

 out looking at it began to pick away_ at it, trying to find 

 the blade; and only after repeated failures did he look at 



the bladeless wood and instantly the fate of the knife was 

 recalled to his mind; .and he begged. "Now please don't say 

 a word about this to the boys. '" Every day there was some 

 absent-minded break to be charged to his account. 



Putting on my dreaming cap is the only way I can go 

 a-flshing now. I am sure the surroundings are in sympathy. 

 There is one of my old rods that "could a tale uiifold " by 

 proxy. It's quite an ornament here, though of no present 

 nor prospective use. It's here as a gentle reminder of other 

 days. Well do I remember the early morning when it made 

 its debut on the Andirondack stream, and a wonderfully suc- 

 cessful first appearance it was. 



It was a likely morning for fishing and all alive with 

 woodland sounds and movements. In a pool below a fallen 

 tree and a large rock by which the water went whirling in a 

 little maelstrom of unrest its first casts were made. The 

 place was doubly attractive from the probabilities of its 

 haboring some trout grandees and the possibili ty of an angler's 

 breaking his neck in attempting to capture them. What 

 higher recommendation could one give to a trout pool? 



Further and further the rod carries the red ibis stretcher 

 and the now forgotten dropper; then at the momentary 

 gleam on the surface as though there was an electric system 

 of intercourse between fly and wrist— the hook was placed, 

 and quicker than the telling came the excitement of doubt, 

 hope and pleasure. A novice might as well have engaged 

 in a sparring match with a buzz-saw, but before that little 

 pool was exhausted we had a creel almost full of trout com- 

 fortably taking their last sleep in a bed of cool green ferns. 



Suddenly one of those little slippered feet touches my foot 

 and a sweet voice telling me to wake up brings me back from 

 the dreamland. Mti.t.abp. 



Bear Cheek, Wyoming. 



A STRUGGLE WITH A BUCK. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Your correspondent "S. A,," issue Dec. 10, doubts the 

 correctness or truth of tne press dispatch relating to the 

 antics of a pet buck. In this connection a relation of my 

 experience with a tame buck might prove interesting. Mr. 

 John Ellis, of East Coventry, Chester county, Pa., on one of 

 his annual hunting trips about eighteen years ago, secured 

 two fawns, a buck and doe. He constructed a pen for them 

 by inclosing abotit half an acre of groand with a, clap board 

 fence, nine feet high. Along one side of tlie inclosure was 

 an old blacksmith shop. Occasionally an ambitious hound 

 would jump on the roof of the shop, run up half way to the 

 peak and jump down inside of the deer pen. Then the deer 

 would jump otit over the fence and an exciting chase would 

 result if the dog succeeded in getting out of the inclosure. 

 On one occasion they were driven as far as Pottstown, fom' 

 miles from the Ellis farm. 



In the course of two or three years they had grown to a 

 fair size and waxed fat. The buck .sported a Vine pair of 

 antlers. I cannot say how many prongs there wnxa on those 

 antlers; but I am willing to testify that they were sharp- 

 pointed. Of this fact the buck gave me a very pointed 

 reminder one fine evening in October about sixteen years 

 ago. Mv father's farm joined the Ellis property. It had 

 become a very common occurrence to see the deer close to 

 our buildings, in the front yard, and elsewhere. An open 

 gate was generally ignored. The nearest way was over the 

 fence. One day ray four-year-old brother was playing on 

 the lawn and the buck attacked him, rolling him over with 

 his antlers. The child's screams brought a half a dozen 

 carpenters, who were at work near by, to his assistance. 

 The deer were driven away and ray brotlier was found to be 

 more frightened than fmrt. 



A few days later I came home in the evening from school, 

 and saw the deer on the lawn. I went into the house with 

 my empty lunch basket, and then returjied to look at the 

 deer. 1 thought I wotild have revenge on that buck. I 

 would get a wback at him and then see them run. I picked 

 up a small stick and, holding it behind me, advanced 

 toward the deer, holding out my left hand and calling the 

 buck by name. He met me half way, and instead of raising 

 his head for a caress, as he usually did, he suddenly lowered 

 his head and charged on me with all his strength. To say 

 that I was surprised is putting it very mild, but I did not 

 lose my presence of mind for a moment. I dioppcd the bit 

 of wood I had in my hand and grasped the buck by the 

 antlers. He acted on the offensive, 1 on the defensive. He 

 shoved me around as though I was a feather weight. 1 was 

 nineteen years of age, was "born and raised" on a farm, and 

 had wrestled with every kind of domestic animal commonly 

 met with on farms, from a rabbit up to a bullock; but this 

 was a new experience to me. If it had been a butting ram, 

 or a cross boar, I would have thrown it down and sat upon 

 it; but this buck was having the liveliest kind of a circus 

 with me. 



There was about two inches of snow on the ground, and I 

 could not get a good foothold. The buck shoved me back- 

 ward rapidly until I struck a barrel of cement, weighing, 

 probably, between three and four hundred pounds. This 

 barrel was overturned, and I fell flat on my back. I still 

 kept my grip on his antlers, for I felt that my life depended 

 on my doing so. He then shoved me several yards further, 

 when I threw my legs up around his body and got my feet 

 hooked together above his back. My weight was too much 

 for him. He fell. We were both down. I was mostly 

 under, but I had one leg on top. Then he gave vent to a 

 loud and long drawn out bleat. His mouth was close to my 

 ear, and that bleat I shall never forget. 



Then I called for help. My strength was deserting me on 

 account of the constant heavy strain on both arms. I was 

 hugging his head close against my breast, and my legs were 

 locked round his body. A better hold of him I could not 

 possibly have had. Every few moments he would struggle 

 for liberty, would strike at me with his sharp hoofs, try to 

 gouge me with his antlers, and b-a-a-a in my left ear. 



Finally assistance arrived. Zenas M. Savage was first on 

 hand he having ran about four hundred yards at near his 

 top speed. "What shall I do?" said Mr. S. "KiU hun, kill 

 him," said I. He could not approach very near, as the buck 

 was striking out viciously in nearly every direction with his 

 sharp hoofs. Then Moses Fox, the one ej'ed rabbit hunter, 

 aiTived, Then Mr. Ellis, the owner of the deer. He had 

 been crossing a strip of woodland one hundred rods away 

 when he beard my call for assistance. Seeing the doe mak- 

 ing a bee line for liome, he suspected what was causing the 

 racket. Several other neighbors soon arrived; also my 

 brother, who was in the barn seventy-five yards away ana 

 had not heard anything. A long rope was procured, the 

 center of which was attached to the buck's antlers, and sev- 

 eral men taking hold of the ends of the rope, I was quickly 

 relieved of my most worthy antagonist. .My struggle with 



