266 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 29, 1886. 



VIRGINIA COAST GROUNDS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



The cackle of the mud hen, marsh hen, American rail — 

 all the same bird but passing under different aliases, up and 

 down the Atlantic coast— has bpgun sounding her familiar 

 note in the night time. As tradition has it: "Coming out 

 of the clouds"" alighting upon our meadows to give us, 

 through May, couutless numbers of her delicious eggs. Soon 

 to follow we will have the yellowleg, brownback, black- 

 breast, robin snipe, curlew, with all the other sorts of coast 

 birds. These will make their appearance about May 15, and 

 remain along our shores about thirty days, affording to 

 sportsmen shooting second perhaps to none in this country. 



The chief difficulty that we find sportsmen labor under in 

 visiting our coast is an unusual degree of impatience. They 

 don't seem to want to wait long enough to realize what our 

 country really presents in the direction of the object for 

 which they come to see us. One day or so, and if not a full 

 bag of birds, they are up and gone. The fact that tides, 

 weather and the curious way that coast birds have of not 

 frequenting the same feeding ground every day does not 

 seem to present itself to them as a matter of fact. 



Near our place lies the pretty little stream known as 

 Machapongo Creek, running north and south for a distance 

 of ten miles, bordered on each side by broad meadows, in- 

 terspread by smaller creeks, as well with mudbanks, that 

 abound with insect life, affording fine food for the birds, and 

 acting as an attraction to draw them, by the aid of decoys, 

 almost to alight upon the muzzle of the breechloader. 

 Machapongo Creek has as well fine hiding places in the tall 

 grass growing on the points of marsh, which are naturally 

 formed by the windings of the stream. Here the sportsman 

 may secrete himself for hours, and if a lucky day, get fine 

 shooting. The birds are almost constantly passing on the 

 wing, up and down the stream, coming most frequently in 

 easy range. 



If at any time the sportsman should tire of shooting, he 

 would have but to push his boat out in the stream and get 

 the best of fishing, May being the month that trout fish 

 abound in our waters in great quantities. 



Again, that most rational of all amusements, fox hunting, 

 can be had within a radius of a mile from where I am now 

 writing. In this amusement there need not exist a fear of 

 disappointment in getting up a fox. The dogs are as sure 

 to raise the fox as the steak is for one's breakfast put on 

 the ice over night. Within ten minutes' walk from this 

 moment, with a dozen or even half dozen good dogs, our 

 neighborhood would be ringing with the sweet sound of a 

 pack in lull cry. 



There is no need of horses in hunting in our county. The 

 country is as level as a billiard table. No streams to obstruct 

 the speed of the dogs, nor stone nor rail fences. February 

 being about whelping time, the young ones remain near to 

 or in the dens to May 15, consequently the old foxes will 

 not run a great way from home, but circlet around the den, 

 through fields and swamps, giving the huntsmen very fre- 

 quent sight of the fox, with dogs running by sight, and if 

 good ones— due to the soft, level soil— with amazing speed. 

 The writer has seen horses of good speed lost to sight in 

 crossing field of a couple of miles in following a good pack 

 of dogs. 



Since the construction of the New York, Philadelphia & 

 Norfolk Railroad through our county, its accessibility is as 

 convenient as could be desired. Eight hours from New 

 York and six from Philadelphia, with fast express trains 

 each way three times a day. S. A. E. 



Mappsborq Station, Va., April 7, 1S86. 



MASSACHUSETTS POACHING. 



PROTECTION sometimes fails of bringing the poacher 

 to justice, even in staid old Massachusetts. Sbe has a 

 law on her statute books providing a close time for smelts, 

 beginning March 15 and ending June 1. Thi9 law is designed 

 to cover the spawning time of the smelt, and to prevent their 

 being dipped and nettted to the utter depletion of our rivers 

 and arms of the sea, where they come up in great numbers 

 to spawn. Indeed, so full are these streams at times during 

 the spawning season that a well-directed stone thrown in by 

 a boy has resulted in bringing half a dozen dead fish to the 

 top of the water. 



At Quincy the smelt poacher has been in his element of 

 late. It is estimated that several tons of these fish have been 

 dipped and shipped to New York by the Old Colony Railroad 

 from that town alone. From the Quincy canal, from Four 

 River, from Weymouth River and other streams they have 

 been taken under the cover of night. It is not the policy of 

 the smelt stealers to ship their booty from the point where 

 taken, but they are sent by wagons to other stations and 

 shipped by express, thus lessening the danger of detection. 



An attempt is being made to stop this poaching, but the 

 offenders are very "sly." They work in bands of three or 

 four; two or three guarding the roadways near, while one 

 man uses the dip-net or seine. The guards have several 

 times been alarmed by people passing, but very quickly have 

 the fish and paraphernalia been put out of sight. The Fish 

 Commissioners have been called upon once or twice to stop 

 this poaching, but they have very little money with which 

 to enforce the laws for fish protection. The State has made 

 a statute, but has not provided the means for its enforce- 

 ment. The law makes the possession of these fish during 

 close time punishable to the extent of $1 for every smelt, 

 but the poachers are invariably worthless scamps who can- 

 not pay a dollar. In several cases persons have been appre- 

 hended, but as "you cannot draw blood from a stone," so 

 have these worthless law breakers got off without paying a 

 cent. 



The Massachusetts Fish and Game Protective Association 

 has been asked to send detectives to catch these smelt poach- 

 ers, and men might readily be found who could apprehend 

 them ; but the task is a costly and thankless one where the 

 offender when caught must be allowed to depart in peace, 

 because he is not worth a dollar. Special, 



Bat County Sportsmen's Cltjb.— Bay City, Mich., 

 April 20. — Mitor Forest and Stream: About six weeks ago 

 the Bay County Sportsmen's Club was organized, and the 

 12th inst. the first annual election was held, when tne follow- 

 ing officers were elected: T. F. Shepard, President; J. R. 

 Hall, Vice-President; F. H. Durell, Secretary; L.R. Russell, 

 Treasurer. Directors: T. F. Shepard, President; F. H. 

 Durell, Secretary; Benson Conklin, H. P. Warfield, C. A. 

 Eddy. The club starts off with a membership of 1 75, and 

 with every prospect of success. Had trap shooting practice 

 last week under national rules. Have a fine boat house in 

 contemplation.— F. H. D. 



Goose and Turkey Shoots.— In your issue of April 15 a 

 correspondent gives his experience and success with a light 

 gun. The methods used at that match were the same that 

 were in vogue in this section, although I never heard of 

 such until about two years ago. Last Thanksgiving ten 

 turkeys were advertised for a shoot under rules similar to 

 those detailed by your correspondent, except that a small 

 circle— about two inches in diameter— was pinned to a board, 

 the pin being placed in center of paper, and the pellet nearest 

 the pin won. Our experience in loading was different from 

 that mentioned, as we used four drams of powder and one 

 and one-fourth ounces shot, in a 10-gauge L. C. Smith gun, 

 aud that proportion seemed to work well as we— a friend 

 and myself— won seven of the ten turkeys. After the ten 

 were shot off a gentleman offered to put up a turkey at a 

 certain gap in the fence— afterward found to be fifty-five 

 paces — at five cents per shot. A gentleman handed me a 

 charge of No. 4 shot, and the first fire killed the tuTkey. 

 Then an envelope was put on the snow, and three pellets of 

 No. 4 were put in it at the same distance. Two years ago 

 this method— shooting at paper targets — was much in use 

 here, and at first a large number of guns attended, but, as 

 your correspondent states, the numbers soon dwindled. 

 Three of us, by taking only two chances on each turkey, 

 won quite a large number, and after eating and dividing 

 with neighbors, we had enough to get up a shoot, and de- 

 clared quite a dividend on the investment. I never went to 

 a shoot but that I did well, although I tried several guns and 

 varying proportions of powder and shot. These shoots oc- 

 curred during the winter, and served to vary the humdrum 

 of the season and to furnish a topic for discussion. Game 

 here is scarce, r ven the hawks seem not always particular in 

 choice of food, as last fall Mr. P. S. Thornton, ex-super- 

 visor, while in the field one Sunday, saw a great commotion 

 among the crows, aud going there, found a hawk eating a 

 crow, and it was not a political crow either. Is such a cir- 

 cumstance unusual? I never heard of one before.— Mar- 

 cellus. 



Spitting on the Shot.— Umpqua Ferry, Ore., Apiil 13. 

 —I see by Forest and Stream of April 1 that "Bedford's" 

 style of bringing good luck — spitting on the shot— is some- 

 thing new to you. I can't say who taught it to me, but 1 

 practiced it when a boy and saw others do it. When hunt- 

 ing squirrels with a smooth-bore yager, if I failed to kill the 

 first shot I always spit upon the shot before loading for the 

 second, and imagined the slaughter was more bloody for so 

 doing. But if I thought the load would remain iu the gun 

 for any length of time, I refrained, for fer of rusting it with 

 the wet shot. — Yager. 



Mansfield Valley, Pa., April 21.— 1 did not spit on the shot 

 to make it throw close, but in muzzleloading days we used 

 to oil it. It would make 'em stick together "closer than a 

 brother." but would bunch them, someiimes seven or eight 

 pellets striking in the same place; and it was sure death to 

 anything a bunch like that would hit as they would separate 

 as they struck, the result being much like an explosive ball. 

 -J. EL B. 



New Brunswick Moose Butchery. — Campbelllon, N. 

 B., April 19. — Editor Forest and Stream: The moose this 

 spring are very plentiful up the branches of this river, and 

 are being slaughtered in an unmerciful manner. Indians are 

 chasing them for their hides only; others— not deserving the 

 name of sportsmen — shoot them for the sport they have, 

 leaving the carcass to rot. A team came down river last 

 week loaded with moose skins, but I could not learn how 

 they were disposed of. The game warden, wben spoken to, 

 replied that he was not allowed any salary, and could not 

 afford to spend weeks up river in endeavors to detect law 

 breakers, This is how the game law is observed and pro- 

 tected here, and unless amends are made, the lordly .moose 

 must soon vanish from the woods of this country. — Hermit. 



How the Birds Wintered. — Salem, Neb., April 16.— 

 Quail fared badly here last winter, particularly along the 

 hedges on the prairies. The snow drifted so that they had 

 to get out, and then, being scattered and no cover, dozens of 

 them were frozen. Prairie chickens came through all right; 

 they had pleniy of feed, as a good deal of corn was left in 

 the fields over winter, some in shock and some stood out 

 ungathered.— J. F. L. 



Coming of the Geese. — Campbellton, N. B., April 19. 

 — Editor Forest and Stream: The wild geese have thus far 

 failed to make their appearance here this spring, except a 

 stray one seen flying past now and then. The sportsmen 

 have their ice bouses and decoys in place as usual, but have 

 not bagged one yet. Other seasons at this date scores were 

 shot. — Hermit . 



m mid §mr fishing. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Publish- 

 ing Co. 



CAMPS OF THE KINGFISHERS. 



CARP LAKE, MICHIGAN. — IX. 



THE rain held on that particular morning till near noon 

 when it eased up to a steady drizzle ; but the lake was 

 too rough to fish, and the only haven of comfort to be found 

 for the'girls was inside the big tent, in front of which a good 

 fire was kept going. Here also the cribbage war was re- 

 sumed, the opposing generals snugly ensconced in a corner 

 out of the wet and cold. 



The note book (mental) records that this beastly weather 

 prevailed till nearly the end of the week. Cold wind and 

 rain every day and night, with only an occasional let up of 

 a few hours at a time, and in consequence there was little 

 fishing done in the lake; only enough to keep the camp 

 "sortin' bones" and prevent a "side meat odor" from getting 

 a too firm grip on the frying pans. 



But in face'of all these drawbacks the girls were cheerful 

 and happy, which was a great comfort to us, for we had 

 rather looked for some grumbling and a fit of homesickness 

 to attack some of them ; but I am constrained to say the 

 growling was mostly confined to Hickory and Hyperboler, 

 and the growls were mainly directed, in a general way, at 

 the weather clerk. 



After dinner (we had appetites if nothing else, and took 

 three square meals a day, to say nothing of lunches), Ben 

 cast his weather eye up and down the lake, fidgeted awhile 

 on his seat, and beckoning me to follow said, as we left the 

 shelter of the fly: "Hickory, I've got to do a leetle plain 

 cussin' or bust. Le's go out behind Dan's tent, where the 



gals can't hear us, an' hev a private cussin' match to our- 

 selves on account o' the existin' state o' this weather." 



It is needless to chronicle the remarks made behind Dan's 

 tent, the conference ended in our going back to where our 

 rods stood on the dry side of the big popple tree, selecting 

 two for our purpose, and with a box of worms strapped to 

 our side taking the road up lake along the hills for the trout 

 stream near Alexander's point. We splashed along through 

 mud and puddles of water, stopping here and there to pick 

 a handful of luscious red raspberries more tempting than 

 their fellows, that seemed to grow along the road in inviting 

 clusters for the sole purpose of beguiling us from our mission, 

 till we came to the stieam, where it flowed through an open 

 field and out through the deadened swamp into the lake. 



A few rods from where we stopped to bait our hooks w^a 

 the "deestrict school house" standing on higher ground back 

 from the stream, and while cautiously fishing a couple of 

 small pools as a "feeler," the master, a big, full bearded, 

 sorrel complected, pleasant-faced man, dismissed his four 

 tow-headed urchins for a recess, and came down to have a 

 chat and to show us where he had seen a big trout dart under 

 the bank as he crossed the stream that morning on his way 

 to the arduous duty of trying to keep awake during the 

 tedious school hours of the drizzly day. No wonder the 

 hours dragged heavily on the fragile master's hands with 

 such slim attendance, but this, he explained, was owing to 

 the bad weather and the near close of the term. Besides 

 this, as we learned in a ten minutes' talk, his instincts were 

 fishy rather than educational, and he would rather meand<r 

 along a trout stream, even on a rainy day, tban to be penned 

 up in a little, cheerless log school house, punching the rudi- 

 ments into the obdurate craniums of half a dozen or so of 

 possible future presidents or commissioners of the Civil 

 Service. 



He knew every trout stream along the lake and everv 

 hole wherein lurked a big trout, and was never so happy as 

 when poking along their brush-lined banks with "native rod 

 and can of wums." 



We felt for the master and Ben was so impressed that he 

 was moved to remark, after we were out of earshot, "What 

 a pity that pore feller hes to work so hard fur a livin'; judg- 

 in' from the size an' build of him, 'pears to me he's mistaken 

 his callin'— make a hellrackin' good Texas bullwhacker." 

 He dropped in on us several times at camp afterward and 

 we found him to be a pleasant companionable gentleman, 

 and he found his way at ouce into Mailer's good graces by 

 playing a very fair game of chess, even though rusty from long 

 disuse. In looking on at a game of crib between Dan and 

 Muller he had rather scoffed at it and ventured that chess 

 was about the only game worth wasting time on and spoke 

 somewhat confidently of his prowess at the game. There 

 were no chess players in miles of him and ' he evidently 

 thought he had struck it rich when Muller produced from 

 his trunk a board and small set of chess men aud bantered 

 him for a friendly trial of skill, but after the second game 

 which the master won, his glory departed and he was laid 

 out and figuratively sat down on by Muller till be was as flat 

 as one of the philosopher's flapjacks. Many an hour these 

 two chess cranks spent pouring over the board after school 

 hours, when they might have been better engaged with the 

 'rod, to the evident disgust of Miss Annie, who at such 

 times was sure to want brother Hen to go after a bucket of 

 fresh water, or to take her and Top out a fishing, and she 

 usually had her way, although at times it was like pulling at 

 a stump to get Hen away from the board. Clearly, Miss 

 Annie was not seriously impressed with the master. 



The big trout hidden under the bank where the master 

 had located him seemed to have doubts as to the toothsome- 

 ness of our bait, and all our plans to coax him out were of 

 no avail. If we could not catch him we had a notion we 

 would like to get a glance at his spotted side if nothing more, 

 and becoming a trifle ' 'riled" at last we tried to punch him 

 out with a piece of rail lying handy, but he knew the hiding 

 places in the hole better than we, and I've no doubt he was 

 snugged away in some cranny in the grass roots under the 

 overhanging bank shaking his fins with laughter at our 

 vigorous but futile efforts to rout him out of his retreat. 

 After working ourselves into a perspiration in a performance 

 that might have delighted a pair of school boys, we left the 

 trout to have his laugh out, and separated, Ben going down 

 toward the lake, while I took my way up stream, fishing 

 carefully along the winding brook in the direction of the 

 woods, above where was the trouty-looking pool I had fished 

 in vain the past Sunday. 



With all the rain that had fallen the creek wa9 not per- 

 ceptibly swollen, and the water was clear enough to see the 

 smallest pebble on the bottom, but with the quietest of fish- 

 ing I failed to start a fin. Crossing a low rail fence inclosing 

 a small, grassy field, a few rods brought me to the pool I 

 was seeking, at the edge of the woods where the little brook, 

 here not over a yard wide, crept under an old brush fence 

 and tumbled with uoisy glee over a pebble riffle into a small 

 basin two or three feet deep, ju9t above a great tree whose 

 roots found lodgment in either bank. 



The water had washed out a deep hole directly under the 

 trunk of the tree and then taken a sharp turn to the right 

 aud came out from under a mass of roots two or three yards 

 below, to find its way over a shallow riffle into another 

 smaller pool some distance away. Above the tree for a yard 

 or two the water was unobstructed by bush or root, and into 

 this I cautiously dropped the baited hook and let the current 

 suck it down toward the tree, when iust as it was about to 

 go under the root I saw a trout that looked a foot long dart 

 out and seize it and turn leisurely to go back uuder the tree. 

 No room to fool with him there; no time to deliberate. A 

 quick twitch, followed by a short but furious struggle, and 

 be was ingloriously swung around back of me and dropped 

 into a small puddle of clear rain water formed* in a sag of 

 the grass-grown field, 



With a chuckle of intense satisfaction, not to be expressed 

 by any form of speech known to the tongue of man, I released 

 the hook, re baited it with the most enticing worm in the 

 box, and creeping quietly back, dropped it in as before, but 

 not with the same result. A dozen times I dropped it iu at 

 the foot of the riffle and let it drift under the tree out of 

 sight, and then pull it back with many a bewildering and 

 inviting twitch; but not another trout seemed there to be in- 

 veigled. Discouraged at last with this fruitless "bobbing," 

 I stepped around a bush to get a better sight at the stream 

 below, and in doing so discovered a small opening in the 

 closely-woven and interlaced roots covering the lower part 

 of the pool, through which I could see the deep, quiet water 

 beneath. Through this opening, but a trifle larger than a 

 brimless hat, I steadied the baited hook till it touched the 

 water a foot below. Instantly a monster trout— a monster, 

 at least, for such a puny stream— seized it, and as instantly 

 I yanked him, for I knew that to give him an inch of line 



