AvG, 12, 1886.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



47 



tion is at this time of year an actual alteration of color, 

 but when in March, April, or early May, according to the 

 season, it returns to its proper color, the alteration is 

 effected by an absolute change of fur, the white hair be- 

 ing shed as the new covering rises from the animars 

 body. As far as its general habits go, the mountain hare 

 differs no moi'e from the common variety than one would 

 suppose incident to the markedly different conditions of 

 locahtv. 



The Irish hare may be a variety, and may not. Some 

 maintain that diminutiveness does not constitute a vari- 

 ety, and as the fact of its smaller size is its sole diver- 

 gence from the common liare, no very great proof can be 

 brought to bear either way. To rae it seems to be the 

 common hare, but by reason of some subtle climatic influ- 

 ence it does not attain the same dimensions in our sister 

 isle as in Greater Britain, In habits, aspect, and the like, 

 the analogy is complete, but in size alone it as a rule 

 never attains the limits of timidiis, and but rarely those 

 of the mountain hare. 



The hare is in Britain as ubiquitous as the rabbit. The 

 latter we have with us in numbers incalculal)le, but the 

 former is no less universally distributed, thriving and in- 

 creasing speedily when offered a due measure of protec- 

 tion as against man and vermin. Indeed, compared with 

 the rabbit, it is more susceptible to the influences of pres- 

 ervation, and will multiply and establish itself in fair 

 mmibers, often more quickly and invariably more surely 

 than its decidedly more prolific relatives. 



It is curious to note the peculiar manner in which the 

 hare will favor particular locaUties, even particular spots, 

 as habitat, against others wliich to all intents and pur- 

 poses are of precisely similar natm'e. Indeed I cannot 

 point to any game bird or animal in which this trait is 

 more strangely apparent. 



The hare is decidedly prolific, although not often re- 

 garded as such, the error being traceable to the common 

 practice of instituting comparisons between it and the 

 hare. The hare does not pair, and breeds somewhat in- 

 discriminately nearly all through the year, according to 

 the influence of season and locahty. The common hare 

 is the most fecund of the three,' the mountain variety 

 least so. Gestation occupies tliirty days; the young are 

 usually two or three, rarely also four, in number, ai'e 

 suckled from three to four weeks, then being able to j^ro- 

 vide for themselves, by which time also the doe will again 

 have another litter well on the way. When breeding 

 freely and well, I have known the hare to rear from 

 tM^elve to fifteen yoxmg per annum, and at this rate the 

 annual increase from a couple of hares may reach eigh- 

 teen or twenty — a decidedly prolific result, I opine. 



It is diflScult to imagine a less carefully jjrepared place 

 of birth than that usually vouchsafed to tliis animal's 

 young. A rough, rude, often unsheltered, frequently 

 exposed farm is all the provision sometimes made; but as 

 a rule a roughly scraped hole upon the fine- weather side 

 of some small hillock, the ridge of a fallow, or sxich like, 

 sparsely hned with a few scraps of dry moss, grass or 

 leaves, is the apology for a lair in which the doe-hare kin- 

 dles and rears her feeble progeny. Moorman. 



[TO BE COIfTDftJED IK ISSUE OF AUG. 25.] 



A SIMPLE RIFLE REST. 



' Uditor Forest and Stream: 



■WiU you give a novice a few hints about adjusting the 

 sights upon a new rifle, i. e., how to make a simple rest 

 for holding, etc ? (2) Can you tell me the diameter of the 

 aperture of the Lyman rear sight ? — H. B. "W. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In response to your request for description of my rest, 

 I give the following. Although I have long since given 

 the subject of rest shooting some attention, I have not, 

 tmtU lately, had a rest for testing rifles that suited me. 



Last year I determined to make one according to my 

 own ideaa, and it proved so satisfactory that I intended 

 to send a cut and description of it to the Forest and 

 Stream before this, but have procrastinated. 



Tliis rest consists first of a platform about 6ft. long by 

 3ft. wide placed lengthwise with the target. This plat- 

 form is boarded up on three sides, viz. : on the right hand 

 side (facing the target) and at both ends to the height of 

 about 5ft. From the top of these sides a covering of 

 boards is so placed that when the shooter stands on the 

 platform the riglit arm, the left arm and the left hand 

 rest on this covering, allowing the shooter to take same 

 position as when shooting off-hand. 



There is plenty of room in this box-like an*angement for 

 ammunition shelves, gun holders, etc. Almost any one can 

 improvise a rest of this kind at vorjdittle expense by using 

 a large box made of inch boards without a covering. 



Stand tills box firmly on its side and cut away the top 

 boards to get the proper shape for an off-hand position. 

 There should be a movable blocking for the left hand to 

 rest on, for it needs to be higher than the part which 

 liolds the arms. It is desirable to have the rest made 

 high enough for the tallest person that is likely to use it, 

 and then regulate the height you require by standing on 

 some plank blocking of the right thickness. Sand bags 

 can be used for the arms and hand to rest on, but I doubt 

 if there is any advantage in using them with this rest. 

 One object in having the rest boarded up on three sides 

 is to protect the shooter from the wind, for it must be un- 

 derstood that this is an outdoor rest. 



The trouble with most rifle rests is that they distm-b the 

 natural position of the body, either by cramping some of 

 the muscles or by pressing against the body in such a 

 manner as to allow the heart beats to affect the holding. 



My rest should properly be called an "off -hand rest," 

 for while it gives, as nearly as possible, perfect steadiness, 

 it disturbs the off-hand position as little as possible. 



There are so many riflemen who learn to shoot in bad 

 positions that this rest Avill not be comfortable to some. 

 Those who will appreciate it most are the riflemen who 

 shoot with the left hand well out on the barrel, the right 

 elbow elevated and the butt of the rifle against the 

 shoulder (not on the arm), or in other words those who 

 hold the rifle about the same way they hold a shotgun. 



Answer No. 2.— The large aperture of my sight is 3-32 of 

 an inch in diameter and the small aperture is about 1-33 

 of an inch. Better shooting can be done with the large 

 aperture on accovmt of the better light which is obtained. 



I would refer "H. B. W." to an article in the Forest 

 AND Stream of Dec. 31, 1885, and also to one of the last 

 February numbers, which speaks at some length on the 

 aperture subject. William Ltman, 



London, Eng., July 37. 



FOXES AND FOXHOUNDS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I am glad to see that Mr. H. 0. Newall, of Massachusetts, 

 has acknowledged that a foxhound cannot run foi-ty-eight 

 hours, for in his last article he does not say a word to 

 defend his position, he only attacks my sweeping dogs, 

 which I feel called upon to defend, 



I would like to state to the gentleman that, from his 

 own statement, he knows nothing of the qualifications 

 that makes a killing foxhound. I have great respect for 

 the hunters, hounds and foxes of New England, but to 

 me a chase without a kill Is no pleasure. I had much 

 rather be at home. 



And I would also state that the gentleman doesn't know 

 when a sweeping dog puts in his best work. Our dogs 

 get bothered most in crossing large, freshly-ploughed 

 fields. Any experienced hunter knows how difficult it is 

 for the pack to follow the scent across one of these fields; 

 in fact, it is almost impossible to do so if the field is of any 

 size, say from one to two hundred acres, as we often have 

 down here. 



When the pack misses in one of these fields, if you have 

 a sweeping dog, and a good one, he will take the fence 

 and sweep around the whole field, or until he strikes 

 where the game has gone out; and again, when the pack 

 comes to check in thickets or bluff's, the sweeping dog 

 makes a circuit, strikes where the game has gone off, calls 

 the pack to him, and the check is of short duration; 

 whereas, if they had to follow around and nose out the 

 pad scent, many precious moments would have been lost. 

 And because a dog sweeps and strikes ahead of the pack 

 is no sign that he has no nose, or is part cm% as the gen- 

 tleman seems to think. I have two sweeping dogs now, 

 and there is not a dog in the pack, or in any pack, that 

 can work on a colder night trail or wUl trail closer when it 

 is required. When dogs run to kill their own game they 

 must press all the time. 



As I said before, I have great respect for the hounds of 

 New England, but if they were after one of our old reds 

 and they did not sweep and press, they would not run 

 him from sun-up till sun-down, for he would rmi them 

 out of scent; that is, would get so far ahead of them that 

 they could not trail him. When one of our old reds starts 

 he means business. After going twelve to fifteen miles 

 without a doixble, they don't double around a bluff nor 

 creep along a granite ledge and wait for the dog to get 

 up, as they do in New England; but just seek safety in 

 out-footing the hounds, and don't often go to earth unless 

 late in the season. Now a gray will double-dodge, walk 

 fences, go up trees and any such tricks to outwit the 

 hound. 



If the gentleman has never seen a pack of killing 

 lioimds nearly up to their prey, he has missed much, and 

 as a later correspondent has said, it will be a revelation to 

 him indeed. 



The instance that comes to my mind occun'ed m one 

 of oiu- southern countries. I had occasion to be traveling 

 down there on horseback. One morning as I was nearing 

 an opening, after traveling for several mUes in timber, 

 my attention was arrested by the cry of hounds off to the 

 left. It took but a short time to tell that they were com- 

 ing my way. They came nearer and nearer and a better 

 cry I never heard. I also found by the mad cry of the 

 pack that they were close to the game. They struck 

 the road several hundred yards from me on the 

 way I had come from with a sudden check to the pack. 

 Just then I saw the fox coming up the road to me, and a 

 larger red I never saw. It took but a glance to tell that 

 his race was nearly run. His brush was down and he 

 was running with that heavy jolting motion so eagerly 

 looked for by the hunter. He came right by me, within 

 ten feet of my horse. Just then a large blue hound swept 

 into the road; the pack came crowding to his call; they 

 rushed all around my horse and on up tlie road like dry 

 leaves before the north wind. A prettier sight I never 

 saw. Tongues out, sides heaving, bristles standing erect, 

 eyes glaring, breast and sides flecked with saliva flying 

 from their open jaws. It took not a second glance to tell 

 that they were killing dogs and in blood, I sped after 

 them and saw the death in the cleaxing beyond. They 

 tore him limb from limb and ate him up, hide, hair and 

 all. I afterward heard that they were Gen. Fitz Lee's 

 pack. 



Many thanks to the gentleman for his kind invitation 

 to visit him this season. Perhaps I may do so some time 

 in the near future. To be honest with him I should be 

 afraid to come when there was snow on the ground, for 

 our dogs know nothing about tracking a fox, for that re- 

 quires much experience. We have but little snow here 

 and seldom hunt when it is on the ground. 



I may write something of deer hunting in the Wilder- 

 ness (made historic in the late war) and tell our Northern 

 friends how we hunt them here, HOUNDING. 



Virginia. 



AN INCIDENT AT THREE PINES. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



There is one feature of fox hunting, or perhaps I should 

 say, practice of fox hunters that I have never seen com- 

 mented upon, and that is their habit of bestowing appro- 

 priate names upon the different runways, names that 

 stick to the place, although the surroundings that sug- 

 gested them have long since passed away. No matter if 

 the big rock was blown to fragments and utilized for 

 fencing scores of years ago, the nmway is Big Rock still 

 and will so be known as long as a single fox hunter re- 

 mains in the locality. In my early fox hunting days I soon 

 became familiar with the names of the different localities 

 in the immediate vicinity and could describe a run with 

 all of its twists and turns so plainly that my hearers could 

 almost see the fox when he jumped and follow him through 

 all his devious windings from start to finish. 



I shallnever forget the way I learned the name of 

 one runway. The dogs struck a trail one morning that 

 led straight away over the hills toward a section of coun- 

 try with which I was not familiar. I therefore stuck 

 close to Uncle Mose in order that I might not be tlirown 

 out. We plodded along parallel to the general course of 

 the dogs and as the track was cold we kept well up With. 

 them. Suddenly there was music in the air. The dogs 

 had jumped the fox and were "arter" him in full cry. 

 Uncle Mose had been shambling along with his head 

 down and the old musket carelessly slimg over his shoul- 

 der, apparently about petered out, but at the first scream 

 of the dogs his bowed form straightened as by magic, his 

 head was erect, a wonderful light shone from h^eyes, 



and as he stood there with parted lips listening to the 

 dearly-loved music and apparently unconsciously with 

 careless grace Avithdravnng the wad of tow from the pan 

 and pouring in fresh priming he, made a picture sti'ikingly 

 wortliy his calling. Intently listening a few seconds 

 imtil he had determined the direction of the hunt, he 

 turned to me and exclaimed: "Run like a heater for the 

 Three Pines, he'll be there in half an hour." As I knew 

 nothing of this locality I naturally inquired the direction. 

 "What?" said he witli a withering look of contempt, "don't 

 know the Three Pines? A blamed pretty fox hunter you 

 ai-e not to know them," then in a milder tone added, "Run 

 for Long Rock and cross the brook, then make for Snake 

 HiU, go round Jelly Swamp, then up the river to a gully 

 and follow it up to the end, and there you are." Although. 

 I could make out neither head nor tail to his directions, I 

 started off at top speed in the course indicated by the 

 wave of his hand. After going about a mile I crossed 

 the brook, but could see no hiU in any direction for a long 

 distance. There was a shght elevation, however, just 

 beyond, and I kept on to the top,'from where I could see 

 an ugly-looking cedar swamp. Concluding that this was 

 Snake Hill, I flanked the swamp and kept on until I came 

 to a gully, where I paused to take breath and listen for 

 the dogs. I could hear them a half mile ahead and so 

 near the place I was making for that I knew that I could, 

 not head them. I therefore leisurely continued my 

 course, and was thoroughly enjoying the music when I 

 heard a gun just aheatl of the dogs, who at once re- 

 sponded with more eager notes, but still kept on, show- 

 ing me by their gradually softening tones that no taint 

 of blood was in the air. Putting on more steam I was 

 soon at the scene of operations, where I found old Rube 

 Mosely, a little dried up fellow, whose appearance sug- 

 gested that "there was a heap of trouble on the old man's 

 mind," As I approached him he stood gazing in the 

 direction of the chase, but soon turned, and with wild, 

 wide open eyes, glanced at the wall behind him, then 

 dubiously shaking his head and muttering to himself, 

 he shook his fist at the fox, then stamping his feet, 

 he brought the butt of the old gun down upon the 

 ground with a vim that made everything jingle, and 

 hissed out, "I've shot more foxes than you've got hair 

 on your pesky hide, drat you, and if I don't don't blow yom* 

 blasted carcass out of your dogoned skin afore night my 

 name ain't Mosely, you consarned chicken thief you." 



Ever circumspect in obtaining my share of any fun going 

 on I drew down the corners of my mouth and stepped 

 forward as though I had but just seen him and asked 

 him if he could tell me where were the Three Pines. 

 Bestowing ui^on me the same contemptuous look that I 

 had received from Uncle Mose, he waved his hand in a half 

 circle and laconically replied, although there was no pine 

 tree witliin a mile, "This 's them," and then added with 

 unction, "Drat that gol-darned fox, he'll be back here in 

 an hour, and if I don't fiU his blamed hide fuller er holes 

 than a pepper box, I'll stand treat for the whole crowd; 

 I'll lai-n hunto run over me, dang his ugly pictur'." 



With a few innocent questions I drew from the old man the 

 story of his sorrow. It appeared that when he heard the 

 dogs he made for the Three Pines and had arrived within 

 a few rods of the barway where he intended to take his 

 stand when the dogs broke out so close that he dare go 

 no further and he crouched under the wall, expecting 

 every second to see the fox poke his nose through the bar- 

 way. "I hadn't fauiy got fixed," said he, "when that 

 pesky fox jumped the wall and landed square on my 

 shoulders, and as I tried to gather myself up my foot 

 kefcched a brier or suthin' and down I went kerflop, and 

 old Betsey here went off on her own account, fer I'll take 

 my bible oath I never touched the trigger, and 'fore Pd 

 got more'n half straightened up I swan to man. if old 

 Hero didn't strike me fan- and square and knock me 

 down agin and 'fore you could say Jack Robinson the 

 hull pack trapsed over me, and I'm blowed if every 

 one of them dogs didn't step on me more'n seven 

 times apiece; but you jess wait," added he, shaking his 

 fist, till he comes roimd agin and if I don't smash every 

 bone in his pesky body, call me a liar, dod drast him." 



After the old man had cooled down a bit we seated 

 ourselves facing each other in the barway and patiently 

 awaited events. We had sat thus for nearly two hours, 

 when a slight motion caused me to glance at my com- 

 panion. His face was a study; his eyes flashed fire, his 

 jaws were fu-mly set, the muscles of his face were twitch- 

 ing, and his fingers gripped old Betsey fkmer than the 

 iron bands that bound her to the stock. Suddenly he 

 brought the old gun to his face, a fiercer look flashed from 

 his eyes, and with a savage sm-ge forward to give added 

 impetus to the death-dealing charge, he viciously pulled 

 the trigger. All ye Avho have not wept at his tale of woe 

 prejjare to droj) a kindly tear now. Only a few sparks 

 from the flint followed; old Betsey was empty; in the 

 excitement of his tumble he had forgotten to load her. 

 Almost convulsed trying to suppress my feeling-s I sprang 

 to my feet, and as I caught sight of the fox going like a 

 streak through the orchard I threw the old gun about a 

 row of trees ahead of him and cut loose and missed him. 

 clean. Turning round, I was just in time to see old Bet- 

 sey sailing through the air end over end on her way to the 

 bottom of the gully. Old Rube had slung her with all the 

 force he could muster, and was dancing on his cap and 

 bellowing out a storm of adjectives and expletives thais 

 lacked but little of doing justice to the occasion. Old 

 Rube belonged to meeting, and, although many of his 

 harmless oaths were noted for their brilliant nearness to 

 profanity, he had never been known to be actually 

 guilty of the crime, but I would not like to hold up my 

 right hand and assever that on this occasion some of his 

 most strongly emphasized and peculiarly appropriate ex- 

 pressions did not contain cuss words. O. M. 



Minnesota Prairie Chicken and Wildfowl.— Hal- 

 lock, Minn., Aug. 4. — Editor Forest and Stream: The 

 prospect for prairie chicken shooting in this locality this 

 year is very good. The early part of the spring was so 

 dry that every egg was hatched and none of the young 

 were drowned. Week before last I took a drive of at)out 

 sixty miles across the prairie east of this place, looking 

 for a place to locate a sheep ranch. During this trip, 

 which lasted three days, I saw thousands of chickens, 

 most of them nearly full grown. I also saw lots of ducks 

 and a few sandhill cranes. Next month the ducks and 

 cranes will begin to feed upon the wheat fields in large 

 numbers. Any sportsman wishing to indulge in sport of 

 this kind will have have his wish gratified if he wxll visit 

 this part of Minnesota.— David R. Streets. 



