Juke 17, 1886.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



409 



Every one, save the Shackers, felt that help must come from 

 some source or Tuin was at hand. In the mean time one of 

 the advisers of the Shackers was sending letters to papers 

 in different parts of the State trying to give the impression 

 that James Gray, uncle of Mrs. Munson, burned the build- 

 ings for the insurance. This was a most cowardly attack on 

 Mr. Gray because he held a mortgage of the property and 

 there was a chance to make up a suspicion, in the calumni- 

 ator's opinion, against a mcst exemplary and valuable citizen. 

 Mr. Gray was sick at the time and in consequence of this 

 worry and the constant fear for bis property, as well as for 

 the safety of his family, his reason failed and he died last 

 March. His death was a great loss, not only to his family, 

 but to the community. In about three weeks after Mr. J. 

 H. Gray received the second letter, a third one was sent, the 

 Shackers being impatient: 



"Mb. John Ghay— You was warned once that if you kept that 

 damd black Fred Munsou at your bouse we would burn you out. 

 You disregarded our warning. We don't want to burn you out, but 

 we will if you keep him there. You will get no more warnings, but 

 if he don't leave in a week we will kill some of your cattle, then if he 

 don't git we will take the hint and burn the house. Wedou't want 

 your daughter to ero; let her stay if she wants to; but he must go. 

 We want you to tell everyone in Wesley that if they keep him (Fred) 



we will burn them out and by we mean it. iif Fred still hangs 



round here after these warnings we will have his heart's blood. If 

 he leaves Wesley there will be no more trouble, but if he don't look 

 out for fun. Git rid of him and you're all right— let the woman stay 

 if she wants to. — Remember." 



Immediately after this letter was received by Gray, Mun- 

 son and his family left Wesley; but the trouble did not stop, 

 for in a few weeks the buildiugs of Warden Samuel Cushing 

 were kerosened and fired, his horse and all his farming tools, 

 buggy, work wagon and harnesses were burned in his barn; 

 and it was only by almost superhuman efforts that his house 

 was saved. It was found after the fire that the horse had 

 been beheaded and his back bone cut in two places. 



Public indignation was now nearly beyond control, but we 

 cautioned all not to retaliate, under any provocation, but to 

 trust the officers of the law. We had good men on the 

 watch, reporting often, spies were in the midst of them, 

 detectives were in correspondence and it was only a work of 

 a little time that these villains could continue their atrocious 

 wickedness. In November the wardens commenced their 

 part of the "fun" and the result you have — the arrest and 

 conviction of Wilber Day, a most notorious scoundrel, and 

 Devereaux Fenlason, a most dangerous criminal, because 

 he is a simpleton from birth. It was proved that Fenlason 

 wrote the second and third letters. The Shackers made a 

 most determined fight, and are now doing their best to liber- 

 ate the two scoundrels now in jail. All the poachers in this 

 part of the State have done their best to help and cheer on 

 these villains, but now protection is more popular than ever 

 before. Mr. Stilwell and his wardens have fought well, to 

 say nothing of his legal friends who did such noble work in 

 bringing these wicked wretches to justice. 



I have spent a most miserable year in this fight. I am not 

 an officer, but I am a friend of protection and believe in 

 obedience to all laws , especially when clearly for the benefit 

 of all, as are those for the protection of fish and game. It 

 will be seen by the history of this and, as I have given it, 

 that it was not the game laws that made the trouble, but the 

 old untamed turbulent spirit of the fathers coming down 

 through generations. Two murders in twenty years (Gray's 

 death was as much a murder as was Edward's) is rather a 

 hard showing for a little town of the size of Wesley. It is 

 hoped that the law will continue its good work, and that 

 Washington county will be freed from such scoundrels in the 

 near future. I can not think of what would have been our con- 

 dition at this time had not the law put a stop to such villainy. 



MachiAs, Me., June, 1886. SAM. B. HtJNTER. 



GUN SLINGS FOR THE SADDLE. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



The simple sling for carrying a gun in the saddle which I 

 described in your issue of Oct. 1, 1885, called forth a little 

 later (Nov. 5) two other devices similar to each other in de- 

 sign and application, but entirely different from the one I 

 was using. 



While the slings described by "J. J. M." and "G. E O." 

 possess some advantages, they have the great drawback of 

 being somewhat cumbersome, and the gun being between the 

 rider's thigh and forearm a heavy stumble must cause the 

 gun barrel to pitch wildly forward, striking the flying rider 

 or the horse, and perhaps breaking the stock of the gun as 

 suggested by "J. J. M." 



If "G. E. O." had read my article more carefully, his 

 second and fourth objections would not have been given. 

 If thegun^Ys the sling it dees not require one hand to steady 

 it when loping, and it cannot strike the horse in case of a 

 fall, but its greatest fault is in its position athwart the rider, 

 hampering him if the horse makes a bad stumble. 



The sling described by "Millard" in Forest and Stream 

 of March 18 is an improvement on mine inasmuch as he 

 leaves the tongue in. The upper one is unnecessary and I 

 think better removed, the lower one keeps the gun from 

 wearing against the horn of the saddle, but "Millard" has 

 omitted the slightly prolonged free end which gives a good 

 hold in slinging and especially in unslinging. 



Having said this much for and against the simple strap, 

 I will add that I have now discarded it except for a shotgun 

 and when using a horse that will allow me to fire from the 

 saddle. I always (?) dismount to shoot a rifle. The time 

 lost is something, but the greater certainty of hitting is 

 amole compensation for the loss of time, generally. 



There is in use in some parts of this State and in Mexico, a 

 stout leather sheath for carrying a carbine in the saddle. I 

 find that they are kept for sale in San Francisco, and are 

 simply a leather gun case reaching only past the lock and all 

 or part of the length of the barrel They are provided with 

 two straps, sewed or riveted on, one fastening around the 

 horn if a Mexican saddle or passed through the D of an 

 English saddle, and the other secured to a small ring in the 

 center of the back of the tree. 



The carbine hangs on one side of the horse, muzzle for- 

 ward, under the rider's leg, and by reaching out one hand he 

 can draw it as quickly as a pistol from his hip pocket. 



Acting upon the hint taken from this sling I have been 

 carrying my shotgun in this way but without a holster, and 

 have yet to find any fault with the method. 



I have a leather strap one inch wide, passed through the 

 D, hanging in a loop in front of my left leg. This is all the 

 gear necessary. I pass the barrels forward between the stirrup 

 straps, letting them rest in the loop of the strap coming from 

 the D or horn of the saddle, triggers uppermost. Kaise the 

 stock up and tie the rear saddle string around the grip, and 

 the gun is in place. If there are no saddle strings a pair can 

 be fastened to a ring in the back of the tree. 



I can dismount and unlimber my gun quicker than a man 

 can get out of a wagon and draw a gun from the back of the 



wagon and do it with perfect safety, and when I have devised 

 a snap hook to save untying the saddle strings (which I leave 

 in a bow knot) 1 can prepare for action as rapidly as I desire. 



If your gun is too fine a one to be adjusted in this way or 

 you fear dust or rain and have not a full length leather case 

 to hang at the saddle in which to place the gun, put on a 

 cloth or canvas case which will take almost no time to slip 

 off when you unsling the gun. If you use a leather holster 

 leave it iu place and withdraw the gun from it when wanted. 



The first time you try it you may fiud the gun uncom- 

 fortable to your leg, by lengthening or shortening the for- 

 ward or rear strap. Just what angle the gun will hang at 

 will depend entirely upon the build of your horse. On some 

 animals the stock will have to be entirely below the hip joint 

 and the barrel nearly level. 1 have to bring the stock up as 

 far as possible, and the barrel well down on my horse for my 

 own comfort and that of the animal. With a proper ad- 

 justment of the gun barrel between the stirrups straps and 

 under the bend of my knee, 1 can put the horse at any gait 

 and not know of the gun's presence. And if I desire 1 could 

 carry two guns as easily as one, one on each side. Even 

 with one gun (mine weighs 104 lbs. loaded) it is not necessary 

 to carry ballast to make the the saddle "trim." 



If the horse is at all fractious it makes no difference as far 

 as the gun is concerned, when you get off to open a gate 

 (you will have to dismount to open a California rural gate) 

 or walk up a trail leading the horse. 



If any correspondent knows of still another way to carry 

 a gun when in the saddle I should like to hear of it. 



My gun is provided with a sling that I use when afoot, 

 but I could not be induced to carry a gun in the manner of 

 the British mounted infantry with the gun across the back 

 for the very fear of that "severe blow from the barrel on the 

 back of the head" if the horse should fall. I once fell down 

 a steep hillside with my gun slung to my back, and the bump 

 1 received then I can feelingly remember. If the blow re- 

 ceived when one is shot out of the saddle over the head of a 

 falling horse is commensurate with the one received while on 

 foot, I do not court it. W. E. B. 



Oakland, Gal., May 25. 



THE BIRDS AT SOCIETY HILL. 



"The time of the singing of birds has come, and the voice of the 

 turtle is heard in the land." 



IN one corner of the room where I write, my guns are 

 standing, bright and clean, inside and out, ready for use 

 when the season for sport shall come round in the cycle 

 of time. Unfortunately, I have too many of them. Most of 

 them are gifts from my friends, and as such, if for no other 

 reason, are highly prized by me. I keep them in good con- 

 dition so that whenever occasion shall require, I will find 

 them fit for whatever field usage may be demanded. At 

 present they serve only to remind me of the pleasures which 

 they have afforded, the kindness of the donors and the hopes 

 which they inspire, when Bob White and his mate have 

 reared their brood and they are strong enough to make the 

 air resonant with the whir of their wings. Then, if on this 

 side of the river of time, I expect to mount my old horse 

 Frank, call up Argo and Esk, and range the fields on the 

 banks of the Great Pee Dee or other localities where the 

 prospects of game arc good, aud see whether my vision and 

 nerves are adequate to supply my wants and those of my 

 friends with the delicious little bird. Most of my shells are 

 alteady loaded, boxed and labeled, and my favorite 14-bores 

 will have an opportunity of showing their qualities, "when 

 November chill blaws loud with angry sugh." Inasmuch as 

 the sporting season has passed, "I have no delight to pass 

 away the time but to recall srmie of the bright days, when 

 with chosen company I made the fields ring with the music of 

 my little gun, and now and then had the satisfaction of seeing 

 my pointer retrieve the fallen bird in gallant style. My mem- 

 ory also hords with delight the sayings and acts of my associ- 

 ates and the hospitalities and kindness of my entertainers. 



Though too late in the season, my friend 'Crickett assured 

 Teceel, Mud and myself, that he could fine some excellent 

 Spore in the vicinity of Society Hill on the Pee Dee in South 

 Carolina. A gentleman living at that place I had known 

 when he was a. boy, living in Fayettville, N. O, but had not 

 seen him for many years. Accordingly, on the Oth of March, 

 we left home in our buggy, and sought the residence of John 

 M. Waddill, where we felt certain "we should meet with a 

 hearty welcome. We had to travel about thirty-seven miles, 

 and when we reached our destination, late in the afternoon, 

 ourselves, horses and dogs were tired, and anxious for food 

 and repose. Crickett had arrived the preceding day, and 

 was in the fields when we drove up to the house. We were 

 courteously received by our hostess, and assigned to our 

 quarters. In a short wliile Crickett and his dogs Jack and 

 Dot, and our host made their appearance. My acquaintance 

 with Waddill was renewed, and he expressed himself — no 

 doubt seriously— as glad to extend to me and the others all 

 the comforts which his house could furnish. Crickett had 

 killed twenty-five birds. These supplied our hostess's table 

 with plenty of game to last until we could add to the stock. 



The village, in the suburbs of which we stopped, took its 

 name from the fact that, in the olden time, many of the 

 planters on the river built residences at a convenient spot in 

 the broken sandhills, where they could enjoy each other's 

 society in a greater degree than when living apart on their 

 estates. It was the home of some of the most distinguished 

 citizens of the State, and was famed for the intelligence and 

 elegant hospitality of its inhabitants. Its former splendors 

 have departed, for its wealth has melted away. But the 

 broad fields on both sides of the river are still there; and 

 early in the season, when the herbage is abundant, they 

 afford food and shelter to many coveys of the favorite game 

 bird of the South. As I have said, our visit was made too 

 late. The stubbie had been turned over, the sedge had been 

 burned and the cattle had browsed down the grass, so that 

 Bob White had neither feeding places nor shelter suitable 

 for the sportsman. 



The morning after our arrival we would have sought the 

 fields at once but for the fact that it was raining. Joe, the 

 large black and tan setter of Teceel's; Argo, my little orange 

 and white pointer, and Crickett's two dogs were all ardent 

 for the sport. Mud, poor fellow, has no dog, and seems to 

 want none, so long as the charity of friends will supply his 

 necessities. Nor did he have a horse, having thrust himself 

 upon the kindness of his kinsman to get himself carried to 

 the hunting grounds. But our host had a gallant bay which 

 he tendered for his use. The "Red Rover," though some 

 what ungainly in form and lean in flesh — having been 

 engaged in the Agricultural Department — had plenty of 

 muscle to carry with ease the one hundred and twenty pounds 

 of bones and gristle which were consigned to his powers of 

 locomotion. The rain stopped about 11 o'clock and was suc- 

 ceeded by a sharp wind from the northwest. Notwith- 



standing the uninviting character of the weather we con- 

 cluded to hazard it, and accordingly, mounting our steeds, 

 we set out for the Marlboro side of the river. 



After crossing on a bridge, we took up the bank of the 

 stream for several hundred yards following the road, and 

 then turned sharply to the right. Near the point where the 

 road leaves the river stands a monument of white marble — 

 a cenotaph, probably— erected to the memory of Col. Kolb 

 (pronounced Kulp), a partisan soldier of the war of 1776, 

 who was killed at his house near the spot by some prowling 

 loyalists, who had refused to rebel against the Crown and 

 Government of Great Britain. What I thought when I read 

 the inscription upon the marble I will not write. Alas! 

 ' Can such things be without our special wonder?" 



At this point, Teceel and I, with Joe and Argo, turned to 

 the left, while Crickett, who had two dogs, and Mud, who 

 had none, followed the highway. It is useless to go into 

 details. Owing to the high wind the birds were all in cover, 

 or in such close proximity to it as to render sport impossible; 

 we found veTy few birds. When wereached home that night, 

 I think the trophies of all guns amounted to twenty birds. 

 Of these your correspondent can recall that he could legiti- 

 mately claim only one. This he attributed to the fact that 

 when he started out he inconsiderately put in the stock of 

 his hammerless the choke pair of barrels. At all events, such 

 was the result. Mud was in high glee because the Red 

 Rover had borne him to victory over Wells— a glory which 

 he rarely enjoyed. 



We got back just about sundown, tired and hungry, and 

 ready to enjoy the shad whose odor regaled us, even before 

 we entered the dining-room. They were a real luxury— for 

 the weather was cool and the fish were firm and fat. To my 

 taste there is no better fish than the Pee Dee shad in the month 

 of March. After a "square meal" on the part of all of us — 

 and especially Mud, whose appetite is almost sateless, but 

 whose victuals never assimilate to the production of flesh, 

 so far as we can see — we went to the parlor, and before a 

 blazing fire talked of the past, present and future. 



The following morning was a lovely one. At an early 

 hour our hostess gave us an excellent breakfast, and had our 

 lunch prepared. The horses — including the Red Rover — 

 were saddled and brought out, the dogs lightly fed, having 

 had a hearty meal the night before, and we started off to try 

 our fortune in the bottoms lower down the river. Going 

 along the railroad track nearly a mile, we crossed it, and 

 began to hunt an inviting piece of land. We got up some 

 birds, and Teceel and I killed three each, neither Crickett 

 nor Mud having had a shot. Still further on another covey 

 was roused, but all of them escaped. Soon after this my 

 companion, Teceel, and I separated, by accident, and did 

 not meet until night. This mishap threw three of us together, 

 a very objectionable number for decent sport. Crickett, 

 Mud and I followed closely down the bank of the stream, 

 desiring to reach some broad bottoms, where, we were told, 

 we could find an abundance of game. The prospect got 

 worse and worse, and at last, near midday, our road gave out, 

 and we were forced to take the back track. We lunched 

 soon after, and theu mounting our horses, changed our 

 course, so as to reach, if possible, a large plantation, the 

 property of Mr. Williams, of Baltimore. We hunted many 

 good looking places on our route down the Georgetown road, 

 but failed to find a bird. 



About half past two we reached the estate named above, 

 passed the plantation houses and turned into some fields on 

 the left or eastern side of the highway. Soon we got up 

 some birds and my bag and Crickett's became perceptibly 

 heavier. Poor Mud! He hadn't "totch" a feather in the 

 last half dozen shots. Soon we could hear the faint boom 

 of a gun, sometimes in rapid succession, which we suspected 

 to be that of my lost companion. We found several new 

 coveys and got more birds. About an hour before sundown 

 my little dog Argo tightened his muscles into rigidity in an 

 open field, near a pine thicket. A single bird flushed and 

 settled not far off. Supposing, however, that there were 

 others, I moved forward a little and ordered him on. A fine 

 covey rose, and as I sat on my horse I fired one barrel only, 

 wounding the bird. Then Crickett came up, and pointing 

 out where the single bird went he flushed and killed it. Pro- 

 ceeding in the direction of the flight of the covey we dis- 

 mounted. Crickett and Mud tied their horsep, but I trust< d 

 to the honor of Frank and left him standing in the road with 

 the bridle unfortunately over the pommel of the saddle. We 

 put up the birds .and Crickett got two, Mud got one and 

 I killed the bird I had wounded and scored a clean 

 miss at another. Then I saw that Frank had 

 concluded to leave me to make my way back over the 

 eight miles to Society Hill as best I could, aud had gone on 

 to get an early start on the proveuder at our host's barn. 

 The prospect of that walk was not very charming, but I left 

 my companions fusilading, while I "plodded my weary way." 

 Luckily a negro man caught my horse near a mill, and sup- 

 posing him to belong to a dismounted cavalryman below 

 whose firing he had heard, bestrode the horse and rode 

 toward me. Just as I met him my dog set a covey, and 1. 

 wasted a load at them, as they flew through some woods. 

 Following the direction I soon met Crickett and Mud, and 

 we got in some shooting. They did better than I. I got in 

 three shots but brought down no birds. I wounded two and 

 missed cleanly as fair a chance as mortal ever had. The sun 

 was just "wrapping the drapery of his couch about him" 

 when I mounted my truant steed, handed the darky a 

 quarter of a dollar, and we started on the homeward journey. 

 A young man at the mill told us that nearly an hour before 

 he had seen a horseman with gun and dog pass on, who had 

 quite a lot of birds. Crickett began to feel uneasy, for he 

 found that Teceel was the man, and that he did not "stand 

 head" that day. 



A dark aud weary ride of eight miles brought us to our 

 resting Dlace. When our trophies were counted, Teceel had 

 19, Crickett had 17, Wells 14 and Mud 7. 



The following morning the others bade our kind friends 

 adieu and started on their way to visit Col. Cash, who lives 

 a few miles above. I took a different route, crossed the 

 river and headed for home, viaBennettsville, the county seat 

 of Marlboro — a place which I had never seen, though within 

 thirty miles of my place of residence. I passed through 

 some beautiful country before and after reaching Bennetts- 

 ville, for that section is one of the moat nicely cultivated 

 parts of South Carolina. After leaving the town, a ride of 

 about thirty miles over a strange and very forked road, 

 destitute of mile posts such as did me any service, brought 

 me home. My companions came the next day. 



I am obliged to "A. F. R.," of Belvidere, N. C, for the 

 expressions of his sympathy in my "wild goose" experience, 

 "A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind." It would 

 afford me pleasure to make his acquaintance. Wellb. 

 Eockim«ham, N. C. 



