FOREST AND STREAM. 



£86 



sorry to see as go, for we had dwelt in harmony. Cox was 

 almost inconsolable, A dozen letters from there since our 

 return have proved their sincerity. K. sent the little girls 

 flannel dresses, I added a big package of picture cards, 

 Edgerly a suitable remembrance for Cap! Turner, and we feel 

 sure of a hearty greeting when we visit their clearing again. 

 Several invite us to come right into their cabins, aud it is 

 doubtful if we take tents again. I met Mr. J. O. Pelton at 

 Cairo on our down trip who was on his way to Keelfoot 

 Lake, Tennessee. He would have joined us had he not 

 made arrangements that prohibited. He wrote me in Janu- 

 ary, giving a very fiue description of the place. He is still 

 there. Quail and ducks are very plenty, and good board can 

 be had at the hotel for $16 per month. F. 



A FIRST OUTING. 



IT is on the 14th of August, the eve of the opening of the 

 duck shooting, that we hurry our traps into the canoes, 

 and after putting our dogs on board, embark ourselves. 



How long and expectantly through the dark winter eve- 

 nings we had dreamed over the open grate lire of the de- 

 lights of that day? How anxiously had we wondered how 

 the new guns would shoot, how the young dogs would work, 

 how the new canoe would "run" with a load, and how the 

 new tent would suit? And at last the longed-for timi* had 

 come and we were off. 



It was a stormy evening, and not without misgivings for 

 our safety did we cast off from the boat house floats, and dip 

 our paddles for the start. The boat house bay, sheltered by 

 high bluffs, was calm enough; but on passing out into the 

 stream, we saw that it would be "touch and go" on the trip 

 down. 



For the first three miles the wind was almost right ahead, 

 and only by working with might and main, could we induce 

 our craft to make w^y against it. But the river taking a 

 turn brought the wind nearly astern, and hoisting our bal- 

 anced lug we flew before the breeze. A few minutes brought 

 us to the end of the island which had been partly sheltering 

 us, and on getting into clear water below, the wind lulled 

 for a moment, but only for a moment. In the distance we 

 saw the waves flattened by a squall, and the water turning 

 black as night. Hale, seeiug the danger in time, hurriedly 

 let go the halliards, stowing the sail just as the squall struck 

 us. Over! over! went the canoe, and for a moment we 

 thought our last moments had come; but luckily the squall 

 blew past as suddenly as it had come, leaving us none the 

 worse, with the exception of badly demoralized rigging and 

 a shock to the nervous system. 



For several miles we trusted solely to "elbow grease" for 

 motive power, still feeling rather shy of the sail ; but as the 

 wind moderated we again hoisted it and scudded along at a 

 great pace, "speeding" a little with the paddles. In two 



hours we reached the first opening of the L Islands, our 



destined shooting ground, turned in, and paddled down the 

 "channels" to "the old camp ground." 



now lovely was the scene! The setting sun cast a golden 

 light over the thickly wooded islands^ among which we 

 swiftly glided, enjoying an ever varying picture. The 

 Lauren tian Mountains to the north, tinged with blue, form- 

 ing .a majestic background. Verily it was worth coming 

 far to see. 



Impressed with the quiet loveliness of the evening, we 

 took in our paddles and drifted with the stream, dreading, 

 almost, to profane its beauty by disturbing the stillness of 

 the surroundings. But camp had to be made before dark, 

 so, after a drift of a quarter of an hour, we again take up 

 our paddles and set earnestly to work, endeavoring to make 

 up for lost time. At length we reach the last turning, after 

 rounding which we will be in sight of the camp ground. 

 Horror of horrors ! What do we see? Two canoes drawn 

 up on our landing, two tents pitched on our ground, with 

 the smoke of a camp Are lazily creeping through the tops of 

 the tall trees. Blankly we gaze at each other. It is the 

 only good camp ground on the islands, and all campers 

 know how disagreeable it is camping near strangers; but as 

 we approach the landing we recognize a familiar figure, and 

 inwardly muttering that things do not look as gloomy as 

 before, we ran the canoe ashore, jumped out, and in a 

 moment were shaking hands with Tyler, in whose company 

 we had often shot. He introduced us to his friends, and 

 they good-naturediy helped us to land our cargo, and carry 

 it up to the contemplated site for our tent. 



In ten minutes everything was snug. The tent up, traps 

 in, fire lighted and supper cooking. The dogs were rushing 

 about, crazy with delight. It was their first trip, and every- 

 thing was new and strange to them. They are Clumber 

 spaniels, Johnny and Drake. That the trip now being de- 

 scribed may not be their last, as well as first, by very many 

 in the same company, is the earnest wish of their masters. 



An enormous meal disposed of, we feel at peace with all 

 mankind as we lie by the camp-fire watching the stars as 

 they come out; but the dogs growl and we hear footsteps 

 approaching from the other camp. Our friends come over 

 to pay us a Visit, so we make them welcome, and soon are all 

 lying around the fire chatting. As a matter of course, yarns 

 are swapped, and many and marvellous are the tales con- 

 jured up by the firelight. A most readable and wonderful 

 addition would they make to the Camp-Fire Flickerings of 

 Forest and Stream, and oft is the heading, "That reminds 

 me," of that interesting column repeated as each succeeding 

 tale wakes another still more strange, no one liking to be 

 beaten at story-telling. 



There we sit till the hours wane from large to small and 

 from small to large. Our guests do not move, and in com- 

 mon courtesy wecannot tell them to begone; but at last that 

 point beyond which forbearance ' 'ceases to be a virtue" is 

 reached, and we mildly suggest that, as it will be time to 

 start for the shooting grounds in an hour, it would be advis- 

 able to snatch a wink of sleep; so, to our relief, they take the 

 hint and go, and we hurriedly tumble into our blankets and 

 in a moment are sound asleep. 



In an hour I woke and striking a match, looked at my 

 watch and saw it was time to be stirring, so shook Hale and 

 told him to get up. Hurriedly dressing and taking a hand- 

 ful of biscuit to eat by the way, we shouldered our guns 

 and "heeling" the dogs, went over to the other camp to 

 waken them. We then walked on through the woods to a 

 marsh at the back of the camp. Each taking a side, we 

 made the dogs work between us among the rushes to put up 

 the lurking ducks from their hiding places. They worked 

 to perfection, as if they had been at it for years, and our 

 delight at their prowess knew no bounds. 



Hello! what's that? Johnny has caught a scent and soon 

 puts up a duck, which is promptly dropped. The do°-s 

 show unsteadiness here, as what dogs out for the first time wTll 

 not; but soon they steady down and set to work again. The 



wading is very heavy and the water comes alarmingly near 

 the tops of my wading boots. At last I step into a hole and 

 go in up to my arm pits, wetting all the cartidges in my 

 vest. What is to be done? They are paper shells and sure 

 to be spoilt. But remembering that it's "no use crying over 

 spill milk," I try to put on a cheerful face and trudge along, 

 no longer caring how deep the water is. 



The mist is so thick over the marsh that I cannot see two 

 yards ahead, and in vain try to sight several ducks whose 

 quacks I hear as the dogs put them up. Suddenly I see two 

 flashes at the other side, and Hale's hammerless speaks twice 

 and he whittles for the dog to retrieve two clucks which he 

 has shot. The mist seems now to be doubly dense, and 

 though the ducks are flying about in numbers, we cannot see 

 to shoot at them. At last a flock alights in the pond in front 

 of me, first I snap one hammer, theu the other, but with no 

 result. I try two more cartridges, but it is "no go." The 

 flock, tired of waiting, I presume, coutinues its flight, leav- 

 ing, as I supposed, one of the number. Quickly slipping in 

 two new cartridges I aim with deadly intent. This time 

 the cartridge did explode and I have the satisfaction of 

 blowing to pieces a stump, which in the uncertain light I 

 had mistaken for a duck. 



Remarks, more vigorous than complimentary, are hurled 

 at me from Hale's side of the marsh, and I pocket my morti- 

 fication, vowing vengeance on ducks in general, always 

 supposing the cartridges to be "so dispoged." After several 

 disappointments from misfires, and after slaughtering but 

 one more duck, which fell to Hale's fire, we take our way 

 down the marsh again, the dogs working as before, I helping 

 them, being as wet as mortal man can be. Soon the dogs 

 put up a bird, "snap" goes the first, but "bang" says the 

 left, and over topples the duck. Further on another flush, 

 and another disappointment. Poor Hale is in great distress, 

 as all the birds seem to get up near me, and 1 am unable to 

 shoot them. 



It is now growing late, so we return to quarters. We find 

 the other camp teuantless, its occupants being still absent. 

 Before getting breakfast ready, I cannot resist working a 

 marsh to the left of the camp, in the midst of the thick 

 woods, so call the dogs and go to it. 



The dogs immediately begin working with a will, and 

 soon put up a duck from a pool at long range. I pull on 

 him, but both cartridges miss fire, and he goes off unharmed. 

 1 now notice that the dogs are working very excitedly, and 

 run back into the woods; the cause of their anxiety, a fine 

 black duck, comes flying out. Snap! goes the right barrel, 

 but the left does its duty, and over topples duckey among 

 some thick bushes, from which Johnny dislodges him. 

 He was a huge fellow, and I felt proportionately elated. 



The puppies now strike another scent and again follow it 

 into the Woods, I unwisely following them. Soon I see 

 them "roading up" a duck which is hurrying to the pond. I 

 run as fast as I can to get a shot, but am only in time to see 

 it fly off, out of shot. I had hardly ceased anathematizing 

 the bird, when a huge blue heron sailed majestically over 

 my head. I pull on him and he drops into the water, when 

 the dogs retrieve him. Blue herons are so destructive to fish 

 that we kill them whenever we have an opportunity. 



I now work down the other side of the marsh, but without 

 success, so leave it and go back to the canoe. Seeing Tyler 

 and his chum across the channel, T paddle over to swap 

 yarns. They had had bad luck, only having bagged one 

 duck. I succeeded in wheedling half a dozen cartridges out 

 of Tyler. Just as he handed them to me I heard Hale from 

 the camp point shout, "Mark, duck," so slip in a cartridge 

 as I see a duck flying past. Snapping the breech, I cut loose 

 at very long range, and have the gratification of seeing him 

 drop into the water with a broken wing. He dives im- 

 mediately, so I take the canoe and paddle after him. When 

 he comes up I fire again, fairly burying him with shot, but 

 he ?°oms to bear a charmed life, for down he goes again. 

 He leads me a dance for a quarter of an hour, when I lose 

 patience from the effects of wet and hunger combined, and 

 paddle back to camp. A huge meal is soon disposed of, and 

 I take off my wet things and have a lay off. After a rest of 

 an hour we again dress and start out in search of birds, this 

 time in the canoe. On pushing of from the landing Hale saw 

 a duck in the water where I had shot the one before break- 

 fast. . We paddled up, and a dose from the Greener put an 

 end to its career. It was the one I had wounded. We pad- 

 dled about for two hours without getting a shot, and then 

 returned to camp. On landing I took the dogs back into a 

 cover where cock arc often shot. For some time they bustle 

 about without getting a scent, but at last I saw from their 

 excitement that they had fo*ind something. The "some- 

 thing" in the shape of a fine cock was soon flushed and 

 "grassed" with the first barrel. This good fortune added 

 new vigor to our energies, both canine and human, and we 

 worked all the covers but without putting up any more birds. 



I then went back to camp and found Hale lying in the 

 tent feeling veiy seedy. The great heat had affected him. 

 Thinking it best to leave him alone, I took the dogs back to 

 the marsh which we had worked in the morning. Again 

 they got on a scent which they followed into the woods, and 

 again, stupidly, I went after them with the same result, the 

 duck escaping unscathed. 



A little further up the marsh the Clumbers put up a snipe, 

 which was bagged. A few steps more and another is flushed 

 and missed with the right, but floored with the left. Soon 

 they spring another, wbich is beautifully missed with both 

 barrels. On reaching the head of the marsh 1 hide with the 

 dogs in the bushes. 



Ten minutes, a quarter of an hour pass, but nothing comes. 

 At last, whirr! and a blue-winged teal alights in the pond 

 When 1 am alone I always take pot shots, and on returning 

 to camp tell long stories about tne length and difficulty of 

 the shot, etc. ; so, when the teal settles I take careful aim, 

 and — snap! The treacherous cartridge misses fire. The 

 duck, alarmed, flies off, but not in time to escape the con- 

 tents of the left, and he comes down with both wingSbroken. 

 After an exciting chase Johnny catches him, and he is 

 bagged. 



I now return to camp and find poor Hale very ill. We 

 hold a council of war and decide upon returning home; so I 

 begin to pack up while he lies in the shade of the trees,' Car- 

 rutbers, one of our friends of the previous night, assisting 

 me. At last the canoe is loaded, and, after making Hale 

 comfortable in the bow, we say adieu to our friends and 

 push off. 



It was heavy work for one man paddling the loaded canoe 

 —she is an eighteen-foot Peterboro yclept Mud Turtle— 

 against the swift current. After going a couple of miles H. 

 felt better, and insisted on paddling; needless to say I was 

 not sorry, as I was getting a wee bit tired after my exertions. 



We had sixteen miles to paddle against a current, which 

 in many places runs like a mill race, and in all parts is very 



swift. We had paddled down the previous evening, as has 

 been related, in two hours and a quarter, had sat up till half 

 past two the past night, had had one hour's sleep, and tben 

 gone out for the hardest kind of shooting, i. e , marsh wad- 

 ing, and had been at it till four that afternoon, so it will be 

 seen that we would have done a good deal in thirty hours by 

 the time we reached home. 



After going eight miles or more we landed, had a snack, 

 and laid off for an hour, when we re-embarked and con- 

 tinued our journey. It was a lovely evening. The broad 

 river, two miles wide in parts, was smooth as glass, and the 

 white haUlan cottages on the north shore, with their back- 

 ground of blue mountains, formed a picturesque scene. 



Paddling steadily, we reached the boat house at 9 o'clock, 

 and two weary sportsmen and two not less weary dogs, 

 trudged home through the deepening twilight and hurried 

 to their "downies" with as little loss of time as possible. 



F. M. 



Ottawa, Canada. 



FIELD NOTES FROM GEORGIA. 



Editor ForeM and Stream; 



Believing that sporting items from away down south in 

 "Dixie Land" might be interesting to some of your Northern 

 readers, I have, in the language of the Georgia Crackers, 

 concluded to "drop you these few lines" in relation thereto. 

 The hunting season for all game, with all true sportsmen, 

 closed here April 1. Only a few Northern sportsmen visited 

 this immediate section during the season, and they were well 

 pleased with the sport, the climate and our people. We had 

 large quantities of quail and doves, and while a quantity 

 were killed, there are many now mating here. We had a 

 good many snipe and woodcock, which were not hunted at 

 all, our dogs not being trained for them. Tour correspond- 

 ent could in the early spring hear the bating of snipe and 

 woodcock any night from the piazza of his dwelling, and 

 saw several woodcock that had killed themselves in flight 

 against the telegraph wires near the house. We had only a 

 moderate quantity of ducks in the streams here during the 

 past season, and consequently only a few were killed. When 

 we do have ducks, and especially in the Ogeechee and Sa- 

 vannah rivers, it is our finest shooting, and they are hunted 

 in this way: The Central Railroad of Georgia" runs up the 

 valley of the Ogeechee River and near the river for a num- 

 ber of miles, and sportsmen send their small canoes up on 

 the cars and float down the crooked, narrow and swift flow- 

 ing stream and shoot the ducks on the wing as they rise 

 from the water. 



Two of our local sportsmen. Col. Dick Berrien and Col. 

 Bunnie Bell, of Miller, Ga., took a shooting trip of this kind 

 down the Ogeechee from Miller, Ga., to this place during 

 the cold spell of weather in January last; they killed fifteen 

 ducks and one otter that they got. and say that they killed 

 thirty-five ducks that they could not get owing to the thick- 

 ness of the ice near the banks of the river, a very unusual 

 thing in this climate; the time consumed in this hunt was 

 one day and the distance floated down the river about 45 

 miles. 



The Savannah River is accessible in the same way by 

 steamers. We have a few deer and wild turkeys in the river 

 swamps. We have only one gun club in the county, the 

 Scriven County Gun Club, Col. N. P. Wade, Sylvauia, Ga., 

 President; its membership is small, but is made up of gen- 

 tlemen. Your correspondent was never at any of their prac- 

 tices, but is informed that the members shoot well. We 

 also have many sportsmen who are devotees of the chase and 

 have many packs of the finest foxhounds in the State, and 

 reynard is run to the death when once they get straight after 

 him; running wildcat in the jungles of the swamps is also a 

 favorite sport. 



Fishing in the Ogeechee River with nets for white shad, 

 suckers and a fish called here red horse is the only sport at 

 present. The river is well stocked with the following named 

 fish: Rockfish, trout, jack, grindel, blue bream, red- 

 breasted perch, speckle perch and catfish. The season for 

 pitching (I believe you Northern sportsmen call it 'casting) 

 for trout, red-breasted perch and blue bream opens here 

 about the 1st of May, and we have very fine sport indeed. 

 These are game fish and the finest table fish in the world, 

 except possibly the rockfish. We catch trout by bobbing, 

 as we call trolling— a metallic bait with a short line on the 

 end of a stiff fishing cane. We do not use a wooden fish- 

 pole, as you do in the North. We use either a Bermuda 

 cane or a large cane cut from the canebrakes in the Savan- 

 nah River swamp. We capture the rockfish, the king of all 

 fresh-water fish, either by fishing with a large live perch as 

 a bait or by spearing them in the early fall, when the rivers 

 are low. They can be seen plainly with a light at night, 

 and many of them weigh as much as 40 pounds. 



The fame of our rivers for fish, the accessibility and nearness 

 to the railroad stations, telegraph and mail facilities and 

 means of obtaining ice, sends us in the summer many dis- 

 ciples of Izaak Walton from our Southern cities. And 

 many no doubt would come from the North were they net 

 driven off by the scarecrow of grown people, imaginary 

 malaria. We have no malaria here; we have the brightest 

 skies, the fairest women and the bravest and most generous 

 of men, and our laws and customs are the freest of any place on 

 the planet. Life, liberty and property are protected and re- 

 spected, and any white person, be he bent on sport with rod 

 and gun, or pleasure, or business, can pass at will through 

 and over our lauds and highways with every assurance of 

 security from violence or insult. 



We wish our Northern friends to visit us on sport, pleasure 

 or business; they will be kindly and cordially received and 

 we will, if we can, sell them land and make them permanent 

 fixtures, anyway for the winter months. We have cheap 

 lands, a generous soil, and the mildest and pleasantest of 

 climates, and we invite you to come to Georgia and buy land 

 and go to truck farming and grow watermelons for the North- 

 ern markets. A watermelon crop we believe to be more 

 profitable than an orange crop and much safer from injury 

 by frosts and cold. Henry C. Kittles. 



Rocky Ford, Ga., April 12. 



How Shall I Load.— Rome, N. Y., April 29. —Through 

 your columns I would like to have the opinions of different 

 sportsmen on the subject of wadding powder in shot shells, 

 and to be definite I will put the question thus: Which will 

 give the best penetration and pattern with least recoil, a shell 

 loaded with 3 drams powder and 1 of shot, with 2 pink- 

 edge wads on powder and 1 card board on shot, or a shell 

 with same amount of powder and shot, wadded with one f 

 felt wad on powder and 1 card board on shot? Colt and 

 Parker advise 2 pink edge on powder and 1 on shot, while 

 the best English gunmakers use one $ felt and 1 card board 

 on each side of it and a card board on shot.— C. C. G. 



