OOT. 12, 189&] 



Forest and stream. 



THE WATER-KILLING OF DEER. 



Editor Forest and Stream: I have been an eye-witness 

 to a number of such scenes and am frank to confess that 

 I have, on two occasions, myself shot deer that had been 

 driven into the water by dogs: once when I was rowed by 

 my guide to an easy shot, and again when I was alone on 

 watch and pulled a boat nearly half a mile and killed a 

 buck at fair range with a .38-cal. Winchester, while the 

 boat was being tossed up and down by the waves, oaused 

 by a strong wind which swept the lake. The spirit of 

 fair play within me revolted against such methods, and I 

 ever afterward declined to take a watch upon pond or 

 lake, and if I was not assigned a position to watch some 

 known runway, to take my chance as well as to give the 

 deer a chance, I kept aloof from the hunt. 



To a person who has never killed a deer there is, of 

 course, a measure of excitement in thus obtaining one, 

 and many are induced by their guides to believe that it is 

 the proper way to have a deer drive. This may bo 

 because it is far the easiest and involves but little work 

 for either guide or sportsman. In a region like the 

 Adirondacks, so full of lakes and ponds, in which deer 

 pursued by dogs will invariably seek to elude them, it is 

 very rarely the case that one escapes, and the. sportsman 

 of a reflective disposition is not at all jubilant over the 

 result of such an unsportsmanlike procedure. If dog- 

 ging must be permitted in this region, by all means let 

 the Forest and Stream add another plank to its broad 

 platform, and let it be entitled: "No water-killing of 

 deer in the Adirondacks, either before dogs or by jack- 

 light at night." Both are certainly "crying evils," and 

 rapidly decreasing the quantity of game in that region. 

 Of the two, it is my opinion that the jacklight system is 

 by far the lesser, and does not alarm and drive the deer 

 from localities that they frequent near as much as is done 

 by the hounding system, which I hope will eventually be 

 altogether prohibited. 



Were the tract simply mountainous and with only 

 rivers and creeks, there might be some excuse for hound- 

 ing, as the chance shot on a runway and the baying of 

 the hounds in pursuit of the game affords satisfaction to 

 many ; but with its immense number of ponds and lakes 

 the result is simply slaughter by wholesale — for but few 

 escape — and the practice is followed up nearly every day 

 that the party remains in camp, and, as much proof is 

 attainable, very often the hindquarters only are used. 



E. S. W. 



A TEXAS DEER HUNT. 



Deer hunting in most sections of Texas is compar- 

 atively a thing of ihe past, there being only a few 

 deer left in any except the very sparsely populated por- 

 tions of the State. There are almost none at all in this 

 (Van Zandt) county, and consequently we local sportsmen 

 are always obliged to go quite a distance by rail when 

 we want a shot at a deer. 



Three of us, a D. D. , a wholesale grain merchant and 

 a civil engineer, generally manage to get together every 

 three or four years and take a trip, and what we lack in 

 number of deer we make up in genuine pleasure. 



In the fall of 1891 we three, with one other, made a 

 250-mile trip and return in wagons. 



Our destination was the Devil's River, in Val Verde 

 county, southwest Texas. We were out a month, billed 

 nine deer, eight "peccary" or javelina, and hundreds of 

 quail, besides catching plenty of bass out of the Devil's 

 River, two miles below its source, where it boils out at 

 the base of a perpendicular cliff 250ft. high. On this trip 

 the writer killed his first deer, and experienced his first 

 "buck ague." This latter, however, came after the deer 

 was hit twice with .40-60-260 rifle bullets, very fortu- 

 nately for the shooter. 



It was not the '91 hunt that I started out to tell of, 

 however, but one taken by the same three, together with 

 two others, during September, 1895. 



The D. D. of our trio is now living in Palestine, Texas, 

 and he having written a very urgent request for my 

 brother and myself to join him in another deer hunt, we 

 ended the matter, as sportsmen always end such things 

 when practicable, by taking the train for Palestine, with 

 a friend, a lawyer, Smith, for shoot on Sept. 14, '95. 



Monday morning by 9:30 we had gotten our wagons 

 loaded, and by the early part of the afternoon had arrived 

 ■at our camp at Big Lake, on the Trinity River, and two 

 hours later we had two tents up, a camp table and cook's 

 table in place, and were feeling quite at home. 



For cook we had a colored individual yclept George, 

 who acquired, before the hunt was over, a considerable 

 reputation through the unprecedented size of his biscuits, 

 which were so liberal in their proportions that no man 

 was ever known to take two during one meal. 



The undergrowth being very thick in the Trinity bot- 

 tom, it is necessary to drive with hounds and place 

 standers to hunt the deer successfully. 



On the first day's drive the dogs jumped a deer, but it 

 went off up the river, whereas the stands were all down 

 the river; so that settled the deer hunting for that day. 

 We all shot squirrels in the afternoon and spent the most 

 of the night anathematizing mosquitoes, as we had left 

 our mosquito bars at home on the statement of some 

 unmitigated prevaricator, who assured us with an oath 

 that not a single mosquito was to be found in the vicinity* 



Wednesday our luck was better, the D. D, killing a nice 

 deer on the first drive. 



On the next drive we put Smith, the lawyer, on the 

 best stand, as he had never shot at a deer in his life. The 

 stands for this drive were on a road leading out across the 

 river bottom at right angles to the river's course, and the 

 drive was made above. The dogs did not jump a deer for 

 some time, and when they finally jumped a nice buck he 

 took his first run off in the opposite direction. Later,, 

 however, he came back down the river directly toward 

 Smith's stand. 



Smith, when placed on his stand, waited very patiently 

 to hear the dogs commence to run; he heard them jump 

 the deer and start up the river, and then turned his atten- 

 tion to two squirrels which were playing on a large oak 

 directly over him, and the longer he looked at these squir- 

 rels the more he wanted to shoot them. So engrossed 

 was he with them, indeed, that he professes never to have 

 jheard the dogs as they brought the deer back, and -so, 

 when the deer was coming directly toward Smith's stand, 

 boom! boom! I went his old Lefever hammerless, and he 

 had killed both the squirrels! and the deer turned back 

 and got away. 



We let him off that time, but he says he knows he'll 



never shoot another squirrel while he's on a deer stand. 



We stayed in camp till Saturday and got another nice 

 buck and one wildcat, besides plenty of squirrels. We 

 would have killed several more deer if we had known the 

 drives, but, being without anyone who knew the country, 

 we were considerably hampered. 



However, as we were out for sport and not for ajiy 

 great quantity of game, we were all well satisfied and 

 parted with mutual promises to go again. 



E. A. Winoo. 



MAINE GAME GROUNDS. 



Boston, Oct. 4. — Holeb, Me., is being mentioned as a 

 good deal of a hunting and fishing resort. It was a place 

 little known before the Canadian Pacific passed through 

 that section of the country. Formerly it was reached 

 only by the Canada road, a military road built by the 

 Government, following about the trail of Benedict 

 Arnold on his memorable trip to Canada in winter. 

 Now to go from Boston to Holeb, or that part of the 

 country near the boundary line, it is only necessary to 

 embark by rail for Cookshire junction on the Canadian 

 Pacific, and from thence to Holeb, where are numerous 

 lakes and ponds, with large game considered to be re- 

 markably plenty. Mr. Charles S. Cook is now absent on 

 a hunting trip to that section. His son has already been 

 there once or twice this season, with reports of excellent 

 fishing. There are camps at Holeb and other points along 

 the line of the Canadian Pacific, in that part of the 

 country, both in Maine and in Canada, where the weary 

 hunter is taken good care of. Guides are to be obtained, 

 the rates depending largely on how much these gentle- 

 men of the backwoods have already been spoiled by in- 

 descreet and inexperienced hunters and fishermen. 



The open season on moose, caribou and deer began in 

 Maine on Tuesday, October 1. As has already been men- 

 tioned, this class of game, at least so far as deer are con- 

 cerned, was never in so great an abundance in' that State. 

 But it is a curious fact that Boston gunners have not 

 rushed off to the hunting grounds in so great number as 

 last year, so as to be there at the beginning of the season. 

 In very many cases the hunters are going to wait till the 

 first snows, well knowing the difficulties of deer hunting 

 without snow on the ground, and especially during the 

 falling of the leaves. Reports say that owing to the dry 

 weather the trees will easily be stripped of their foliage. 

 But then comes the other difficulty of the rustling of dried 

 leaves on the ground. The ideal hunting of all is a freshly 

 fallen snow of sufficient depth for tracking, but not deep 

 enough to load the trees or impede progress. Such snows 

 are always looked for in Maine in November. 



Mayor Edwin U. Curtis, of Boston, is in the Maine 

 woods on his vacation, and doubtless he is looking for 

 game, since he is both a hunter and a fisherman. He is 

 anxious to be beyond the reach of mail or telegraph, and 

 hence he has not left word with everybody as to just 

 what point he has gone. It is understood, however, that 

 he intends to bring home a deer, and the lovers of econ- 

 omy and good city government hope that he will bring 

 back another batch of veto messages that will be equal to 

 those he put forth just before his departure. Mr. E. J. 

 Shattuck is absent at his camp in Aroostook county, Me. 

 His brother, of San Francisco, is with him. The camp is 

 in the vicinity of Patten, and the hunting and fishing are 

 about all that can be desired. Mr. C. P. Stevens, of 

 Boston, is stUL at Camp Vive Vale, Narrows, Richardson 

 Lake. He is stopping for the deer and partridge shooting. 



Again Mrs. Westley Jones, of Boston, has brought down 

 a deer in the Adirondacks, according to report. A special 

 to the daily papers dated Brandon, N. Y., Sept. 30, says 

 that there is rejoicing in Kickabuck Camp, where Mrs. 

 Jones is spending a vacation with her husband and guests. 

 A noble buck camo along pursued by the hounds. The 

 lady simply raised her Winchester and fired and the buck 

 dropped dead in his tracks. Her son, Rodney Jones, 10 

 years old, was her only companion at the time. Now it is 

 to be hoped that this story is true, but it will be remem- 

 bered that it sounds very much like the one told of the 

 same parties for a couple of years in succession. At any 

 rate the Jones party is reported as having excellent luck, 

 taking its full share of large game. Dr. C. F. Nichols 

 and his daughter, of Boston, who were guests of the 

 Jones party earlier in the season, have returned. Mr. 

 Rolin Stuart, also of Boston, has gone to join the same 

 party. 



S. H. Kauffmann, editor of the Washington Star, with 

 George P. Rowell, of New York, than whom few men are 

 better known to the newspaper fraternity, have gone 

 home from a camping and fishing outing at Mr. Rowell's 

 camps on Crystal Lake, New Hampshire. It will be re- 

 membered that the celebrated ten-acre pond law was 

 fought by Mr. Rowell at this lake, and that he was beaten 

 in his attempt to control the fishing and shooting there. 

 The case was carried to the Supreme Court, I believe, and 

 this time also the cause of the residents, who desired to 

 fish and shoot there, was sustained. But no trouble is 

 now experienced. The campers own all the land border- 

 ing on the pond, and the residents do not seem to care to 

 trouble them. To reach the pond trespass must be com- 

 mitted, but this would be punished very lightly by the 

 local courts. 



Mr. E. Frank Lewis started to-day for his fall shooting 

 in Maine. He goes to Lee, which is in the neighborhood 

 of Costigan. Mr. Bradford will accompany him. A little 

 later Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Phineas Sprague are expected 

 to follow. Still later a couple of Lawrence gentlemen 

 are expected. Mr. Lewis proposes to remain in the woods 

 three or four weeks. It is a new place to him, to which 

 he is going, but he expects to find good camps and equip- 

 ments. His guide of former seasons will be there. Mr. 

 Lewis says that one deer is enough for him, and that it 

 must be a buck at that. Now, if there were only more 

 hunters like him! Special. 



West Virginia's Quail Dearth. 



Milton, W. Va., Oct. 4.— In your issue of Oct. 5 Texas 

 Field says under the heading of "Texas and the South- 

 west" that game is going to be very plentiful this winter. 

 It is going to be just the reverse here. I have asked a 

 good many farmers if there were any quail on their 

 farms and with one exception all said that they had not 

 seen a quail this summer. I went through some of the 

 best cover I ever saw this spring, and I did not see a quail 

 or any indications of any. Rabbits are very scarce. 



Burke Wilson. 



ATEN DAYS' HUNT IN NORTHERN MAINE 



The fall of '94, as most of the sporting fraternity are 

 well aware, was remarkably free from snow, thus making 

 it very difficult to track anything through our dense 

 woods, as what little we had up to the middle of Decem- 

 ber would prove more of a hindrance than a help. I had, 

 however, made all the necessary arrangements; so, hav- 

 ing gotten through Thanksgiving Day without any 

 serious mishap, I embarked on the morning of Nov. 30 at 

 6 o'clock for the country lying south of Ashland, known 

 as the St. Croix and Black Water region. 



I had procured a small horse sled as a means of convey- 

 ance and had thereon placed my "wongun box," in 

 which I put eatables, cartridges, etc. I had also procured 

 the services of one Dan Carter, a rather peculiar person- 

 age, as he was cross-eyed, almost white-headed and would 

 lie "to beat the band." So I considered myself pretty 

 well equipped. 



We had thirty -five miles to travel before we could see 

 the guide, and, as the most of us know, it requires a 

 fairly good disposition to ride on a sled in this country 

 with less than 2in. of snow, and there was many a bare 

 spot in the road. However, after ten hours of hard work 

 we succeeded in arriving at our destination, having 

 walked at least twenty miles of the distance. 



Here we found the guide, Frank Snow, of , Masardis, 

 who, hustling us into the house, took care of our horse, 

 after seeing that we were o. k. for a good supper. 



At 5 o'clock, as I was dreaming, I was suddenly awak- 

 ened by Frank, who informed me that if I hoped to reach 

 camp by noon it was high time we were up and moving. 

 Hastily dressing I hurried down stairs, where, after bolt- 

 ing my breakfast about in the manner of an ostrich, I 

 donned my sweater and ulster and we started for a camp 

 on Black Water, about seven miles away, it being neces- 

 sary to travel this distance on foot, but it can now be 

 done withiorses. 



Frank had strapped our provisions, cartridges, etc. , to 

 a low sled with runners 3 or 4in. wide, and the way that 

 thing would ride rock piles, stumps, logs and anything it 

 came across was a caution. 



The whole country here is ideal for sportsmen, and 

 on almost any of the hills a beautiful view of Katahdin 

 can be secured, lifting its lofty head high above the sur- 

 rounding country. 



After traveling through the woods and fields to the 

 stream about four miles away, we struck up for about 

 three miles to Goding camp, a small affair, built about 

 forty rods from the stream, with a hole cut through the 

 roof to let the smoke out, but I failed to see wherein it 

 did the business, as before we had a fire fifteen minutes I 

 was nearly choked, and my eyes felt as they used to when 

 I was a small boy living in Bangor and building bonfires 

 in the spring, to run back and forth through the smoke. 



After dinner we took our rifles and started for an old 

 camp of Dunn's, about a mile further in, keeping our 

 eyes open for game. We had scarcely got out of sight of 

 camp when Frank, reaching over a fallen tree which lay 

 across our path, sprung an enormous bear trap, making 

 me turn several degrees whiter when I heard the jaws 

 come together, as I thought it had caught his arm. 



We had seen track after track of deer since leaving the 

 house, but the first moose track was discovered after 

 crossing a cranberry bog which lies about one-half mile 

 from camp, and though two or three days old yet it gave 

 me that peculiar feeling of exhilaration known to all 

 sportsmen. We had hardly entered the woods again when 

 we heard the whistle of a deer and stopped just in time 

 to see the flag of a big buck disappear over a fallen tree 

 surely 7ft. above the ground. 



This ground, including the streams, was literally alive 

 with game of all kinds. While gone I saw not less than 

 a dozen beaver houses, as many more otter and countless 

 numbers of tracks of deer, loupcervier, sable, etc. Arriv- 

 ing at the camp we found that the office was in fairly 

 good condition, so we decided to move up, as with a little 

 labor the invincible Dan could soon make it into quite a 

 comfortable abiding place. Upon our return to camp we 

 found a brother and also a friend of Frank's there, who, 

 seeing our tracks as they were returning from a trip 

 farther in, had stopped to tell us that a moose had crossed 

 South Branch about two miles further up. That night 

 was, I believe, the most uncomfortable one I have ever 

 spent, as five of us had to lie in a space 4 or 5ft. wide, and 

 the only thing needed to make us equal to the proverbial 

 "sardine in a box" was the oil, as each man had to lie on 

 his side and was firmly fixed when once in position; this 

 was the "straw that broke the camel's back," and when 

 morning came we each took a load and started for the 

 main camp. 



As this was Sunday we made up our minds to go it easy, 

 so leaving Dan to fix up the camp Frank and I started to 

 do a little prospecting and if possible to locate something 

 for the next day's hunt. Returning to the stream by 

 means of an old "tole rode," thus striking it about a mile 

 further up than where we had left it, we proceeded up for 

 half a mile, then took to the woods on the left or opposite 

 bank. Here we found another old camp of Woodford 

 Brown's, and turning to the right circled for North 

 Branch, starting two deer on the way, but owing to the 

 scarcity of snow and the direction of the wind failed to 

 catch a glimpse of them. 



Upon reaching North branch, we walked down for a 

 short distance, thence struck for a high ridge, which lies 

 between North and South branches. The outlook from 

 this ridge would have thrilled the heart of an artist. 

 Directly beneath us lay the dense woods, and in the 

 distance was the stream, looking like a silver thread, with 

 its coating of ice and snow, winding in and out among 

 the trees. Pushing on we soon arrived at its banks, then 

 starting up kept our eyes wide open for signs of game; as 

 we knew this was the best part of the country, and we 

 were not disappointed, for we found two caribou tracks, 

 which Frank claimed were about two hours old. 



As it was then 3 o'clock, we decided to return to camp, 

 then six miles away, and make ready for a long tramp 

 next day. 



Next morning we arose with the lark or rather blue jay, 

 and after a good breakfast started, Frank taking a frying- 

 pan and coffee-pot, and a little tea and hardtack, as we 

 expected to have to stay out that night. Arriving at our 

 destination, we at once started on the trail of our friends, 

 through as bad a rabbit swamp as it has ever been my ill 

 luck to meet, and as there had been a slight fall of snow 

 during the night, it was then and still is a mystery to me 

 how Frank managed to keep the track. 



