334 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Oct. 19, 1895. 



that we were determined to emulate the mighty Nimrod 

 at any cost, father purchased through the agency of Capt. 

 Buell for each of us a light single-barreled gun, with 

 which we soon became expert marksmen, and thus was 

 added a new pleasure to our already happy lot. In the 

 pleasant springtime we roampd the mossy bankB of the 

 adjacent woodland stream with our primitive tackle, now 

 stopping at some well-known eddy or lucky spot to "yank" 

 some unlucky speckled inhabitant over into the next 

 county, now pausing to dabble in the limpid waters or 

 watch the swirl of some big fpllow foraging for break- 

 fast, and indulge in some boyish "swear," as "By gosh," 

 or "By hemlock, ain't be a whacker?" And then in the 

 ripe autumn, 



When the mellow brown hue creeps over the grass 



And a hazy blue veils the low hills — 



the season now doubly welcome since the advent of the 

 new guns — what vistas of happiness were continually be- 

 fore us. The daily visit to the snares, the more extended 

 rambles in the woods, the return home laden with the 

 various odds and ends so dear to a boy's heart, this close 

 communion with God's best handiwork — nature, ah! 

 this is something to think of in these buBy days and 

 clank of the chains. 



The only drawback to our pleasure was snakes, and 

 rattlers at that. Many a time did I prove myself a good 

 sprinter when "dusting" from that immediate vicinity, 

 upon hearing the warning rattle of one of these pleasant 

 companions. But as they only inhabited the rocks and 

 ledges we really were in no danger of their deadly fangs. 



Perhaps the recital of our hunt after big game would 

 not be amiss. This hunt occurred in the fourth year of 

 our residence in the woods, and although it was not con- 

 ducted according to the code laid down by the Boone and 

 Crockett Club, still the results were stirring enough to 

 satisfy the most exacting. It cprtainly will never fade 

 from my memory. For some time the different members 

 of the scattered community had been treated to fleeting 

 glimpses of some strange animal, and this fact, coupled 

 with the disappearance by night of sundry chickens and 

 ducks, proved that some nondescript animal of inordinate 

 appetite was roaming the woods. No one was certain as 

 to its identity, for no one had seen it under favorable 

 circumstances, and in the stories told by different indi- 

 viduals it ranged in size from a cow down to a small dog. 

 But all agreed that for the common welfare the beast 

 must be hunted down: and one fine morning a motley 

 band surrounded the swamp where the nondescript was 

 last seen. We boys were ordered from the ranks, but 

 followed close on the heels of our elders. Moving slowly, 

 the circle grew smaller. As they grew near the heart of 

 the tangled mass all eyes were bent on the suspected 

 spot, and as they closed in on the last available hiding 

 place the excitement was intense. Suddenly one man 

 saw something move; another had a glimpse of a tawny 

 coat of hair; then the hunted beast with an unearthly 

 yell bounded forth in a wild dash for liberty. The crash 

 of musketry and confusion of voices, mingled with yells 

 of pain, and the crashing of bushes, made a perfect babel 

 of sounds; »and when the smoke lifted — well, gentle 

 reader, you should have been there. 



The sudden appearance of the beast had made all hands 

 heedless of consequences, and those that stood in the way 

 of the hurtling lead caught it hot. Old Peleg Adams lay 

 tightly wrapped in the loving embrace of a snarl of bull 

 briers, peering comically out from the brim of his bid hat, 

 which, partly shot away, hung down around his face like 

 a halo of glory, while the No. 10 cowhides of Jim Clark, 

 who lay in a similar predicament, reposed gracefully on 

 his bosom. Hen Clark, at the first savage rush of the 

 beast, dropped his gun, grabbed the low branches of a 

 maple and promptly drew himself up, lost his hold, slid 

 down into a spreading fork and hung helplessly, kicking 

 and swearing, out of harm's way. Old Archer had caught 

 it bad, for he was wildly hopping about on one leg, its 

 mate clasped tightly in both hands, said member well rid- 

 dled with bird shot. His gyrations suddenly ended in a 

 backward tumble over an old log into a bed of black 

 muck, On this same log sat Jim Carbury nursing one ear 

 which never again would quite match the other, for a 

 couple of stray buckshot had bored their way through it. 

 The remainder of the expedition was in a more or less 

 demoralized condition. 



The purpose of the hunt was, however, accomplished, 

 for the beast lay dead among the briers, and the able- 

 bodied members gathered around a lusty great wildcat, 

 the largest ever seen in that region in the memory of the 

 oldest inhabitant. Becoming cooled down somewhat, one 

 of the party ventured the remark to Carbury (as' the 

 leader), "Wall, Jim, there's a good pelt for ye anyhow." 

 "Not by a darned sight," growled Carbury, "let the blame 

 cusb lay thar. I got enough to remember him by," and 

 he tenderly stroked his wounded ear. 



That was a sick-looking expedition as it filed out of the 

 swamp. There were the tattered and torn, the lame and 

 the halt. Old Ben Archer, perched on the back of the 

 most powerful of the band, who strode in the van, served 

 as a beacon for the rest of the party, while we boys 

 brought up the rear, dragging the wildcat. 



After a time the serpent came into our Eden, and like 

 Othello our occupation was gone. Through the instru- 

 mentality of the dentist the fame of our hunting grounds 

 spread afar and the woods became crowded with an army 

 of sportsmen from Hartford, Middletown and like places- 

 then father, becoming disgusted at this insuasion of 

 strangers, moved back still deeper into the wild woods and 

 the pleasures of the old home remained only in memory. 



E. M. Brown. 



Connecticut. 



A Master Hand on Tarpon. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



No doubt you have seen the article in Badminton's 

 Magazine for August by Otis Mygatt on tarpon fishing. I 

 consider this the best article on this fishing that I have 

 seen, and knowing the writer can say that of all fisher- 

 men whom I have seen he is the most skillful. He haB 

 done alone what few or none ever did with tarpon- 

 hooked, worked and gaffed a large tarpon from a row 

 boat at anchor. By placing the reel under his arm he 

 held the fish and gaffed it himself. Now any man who 

 has worked a tarpon to gaff knows the strength and en- 

 durance required to do this. So far as I know, no man 

 ever brought to gaff eight tarpon in one day except Mr. 

 Mygatt, in fact few men could stand the strain required to 

 do it, Chas. A. Dean. 



TWO DAYS IN THE ROCKIES. 



Among the great peaks and ridges of the mountains 

 one occasionally finds, far up some deep cafion, a hillside 

 park with a southern exposure where the soil is unusu- 

 ally rich, and where as soon as the snows melt luxuriant 

 grass at once springs up. 



To such a spot Johnnie Barrett had driven bis horses 

 last winter, and bad left them to rustle for their living 

 among the scrub oak and buck brush. About the middle 

 of March he decided on taking a trip up to see how they 

 were faring and if possible to bring them out. 



Many of the sportsmen who have hunted on the great 

 mesa in the northern portion of Garfield county and the 

 White River district in Rio Blanco county, Colorado, will 

 recall with pleasure the pleasant days they have spent 

 under Johnnie's guidance and the tempting dishes of 

 trout and flapjacks that he is so Bkillful in preparing. 

 Johnnie's companion on the present trip was an ambitious 

 sportsman, always ready for any kind of an outing, 

 whom we will call Phil. Owing to a delay in securing 

 horses the boys did not get started until late in the after- 

 noon. Their course at first lay along the great coal ridge 

 through which the Grand River breaks at New Castle. 

 Here may be seen one of the greatest coal formations in 

 the country. Veins varying from 2 to 90ft. in thickness, 

 and pitching from 25 to 55 degrees, are so numerous that 

 only a few are worked. In many places where the big 

 veins crop out they have ignited spontaneously, and the 

 heat has been so great that the rocks have been fused 

 into a spongy mass exactly resembling lava. 



Near New Castle there is a large spot near the summit 

 of the ridge where the fires are still smouldering and 

 where the snow never accumulates. The grass here is 

 green in winter, and the locality is a favorite wintering 

 place for deer. 



At the time Johnnie and Phil started out the snow 

 varied from 2 to 7ft. in depth on the lower mountains. 

 The south slopes were nearly all bare, but there were 

 great piles on the northern slopes and in the canons. 

 Leaving the road at Middle Elk Creek the boys turned up 

 that stream just as the sun was setting. In an old beaver 

 pond the mallards were quacking vociferously, but thfy 

 were safe, for nothing smaller than bear or lion was con- 

 sidered fit for the .40-90 Winchester single shot which 

 Phil carried. 



Darkness settled down in the canon soon after sunset, 

 and for some time only the roar of the creek and the 

 noise made by the horses broke the stillness. Suddenly 

 far up the creek was heard a succession of clear, sharp 

 whistleB repeated at intervals of two or three seconds and 

 sounding exactly like a blast on an empty cartridge shell. 

 Both stopped and listened. 



"Some one whistling for assistance?" queried Phil. 



"No, lion," said Johnnie. "Keep quiet, he may pass 

 close to us." 



Nearer and nearer came the sounds— then ceased. 

 Soon they were repeated some distance below. The 

 crafty beast had made a detour, and as there was no pos- 

 sibility of overtaking it in the darkness the boys reluc- 

 tantly continued on their way. Their destination was 

 Sam's lonely cabin, and this they reached about 9 o'clock, 

 just as Sam was retiring. A lusty yell brought him out 

 with a light to see who his visitors were, and soon the 

 horses were stabled and the boys were getting on the out- 

 side of a good hot supper. Hanging outside the cabin 

 were portions of the carcasses of a deer and a fine elk. 

 Inside the floor and some of the chairs were covered with 

 deer skins. On the wall was a fine pair of elk horns 

 which supported two Winchester sinerle-shot rifles, one a 

 .25cal. rim-fire, the other— which Sam had christened 

 Long Tom— a .40-90. 



The crowning feature of all was a massive reclining 

 chair made of solid oak and fastened together with Jin. 

 bolts. One could assume any desired position, from "up- 

 right to reclining, by simply leaning backward or for- 

 ward, and the chair would retain its position without the 

 aid of springs or clamps. Sam had made it during his 

 leisure time in the winter and swore it would cost him 

 $200 the coming summer, aa he would be lounging in it 

 when he should be working. 



After a pull at the pipes all hands turn in and turn out 

 at an early hour next morning, for a hard day's work is 

 ahead of them. Cooking a hasty breakfast the boys 

 wrap up a few flapjacks, put on a pair of Norwegian 

 snowshoes and start out up the cafion. For the first few 

 hundred yards the traveling is excellent across the fields, 

 then the narrow gorge is reached. Here there is a tangle 

 of berry bushes, trees, fallen logs and brush. The snow- 

 shoes are removed and the boys make their way as best 

 they can, carrying the shoes on their shoulders and 

 scrambling through brush and over logs— at one minute 

 on the crust of the Bnow, at another floundering waist- 

 deep or skipping from rock to rock along the edge of the 

 creek. At one place it becomes necessary to cross the 

 stream on a log which is covered with snow 15in. deep, 

 and this is successfully accomplished on the shoes— quite 

 a trick to balance one's .self on a log and keep the snow- 

 shoes from overlapping. After a couple of miles of such 

 traveling the snowshoes are left behind and the ascent 

 of the cliffs commenced on the side exposed to the south, 

 which is nearly bare of snow. For carrying a rifle in 

 such places a sling strap is necessary. The muzzle should 

 be upward and on no account should project higher than 

 the top of the head. Phil once had a narrow escape 

 while climbing a cliff with hia rifle slung too high. Just 

 as the summit was within reach he made a spring for- 

 ward and the barrel caught in a branch of a tree, nearly 

 throwing him backward over the precipice. 



After a long climb one of the hillside parks before re- 

 ferred to is reached. The snow in some places is over 2ft 

 deep, but m many places it has melted away and the grass 

 is already 6in. high. s 



Scarcely have they struck the snow when they came 

 upon the fresh muddy tracks of a good-sized bear. They 

 are very fresh, having been nade since the sun thawed 

 the frozen ground, but the snow now is so soft that it is 

 impossible to follow them with any prospect of success. 

 Half a mile an hour would be good traveling in such snow 

 over the hills, and bruin is suffered to continue on his way 

 unmolested. Working their way down below snow line 

 the boys come to a heavily timbered ravine, where a year 

 ago Johnnie had killed a fine elk and a large silver-tip 

 bear- a species of grizzly. Standing on the edge of the 

 ravine Johnnie rolls a few rocks down, while Phil gets his 

 rifle in position to catch anything that may attempt to 

 climb the opposite side, which is comparatively open, but 



nothing appears. Descending to the bottom, the boys 

 come upon the fresh tracks of a silver tip or a cinnamon, 

 they cannot tell which. The cunning old rascal had been 

 startled by the rocks, but instead of climbing the opposite 

 side he had sneaked off down the ravine through the 

 heavy timber and had struck into the heavy snow, where 

 pursuit was impossible. Did Johnnie swear? Well, Phil 

 says he don't just remember what was said, but that he 

 has a vague recollection of seeing some one throwing 

 down his hat and dancing a wild can-can .on it. 



It was evident that the bears had left their winter quar- 

 ters and were moving around for something to eat, so the 

 boys decided to exercise the utmost caution in approach- 

 ing any likely looking places. 



Deer were frequently within range, but it would have 

 been folly to fire at them when signs of larger game were 

 so plentiful. After hunting for about an hour the boys 

 came to a narrow ravine, and cautiously climbing up the 

 side discovered a large mountain lion sunning himself on 

 a rock about 100yds. away. Phil took a careful aim for 

 the chest and let drive, but the bullet struck a little low, 

 smashing one fore leg and passing upward into the body, 

 but too far back to cause immediate death. The great 

 beast rolled over, but quickly recovered himself and 

 started up the hill at a rapid pace. His wound soon told 

 on him, however, and facing around he awaited his pur- 

 suers with glaring eyes and lashing tail. Phil was soon 

 within range, and taking a good rest struck him squarely 

 in the eye, killing him instantly. 



By the time he was skinned it was nearly sundown, 

 and the boys realized that it would be impossible to re- 

 turn to Sam's cabin that night, so concluded to make the 

 best of a night in the hills. Both had eaten nearly all 

 their lunch at noon, and at first it looked as though lion 

 meat would form the piece de resistance for supper and 

 breakfast, but Johnnie was equal to the emergency. 



Descending to the stream, he pulled a piece of fiue 

 wire from his pocket, attached it to the end of a pole, 

 made a. running noose at the end and was soon pulling 

 trout out of a deep hole at the rate of one every forty sec- 

 onds. At the fourth fish the wire broke close to the pole 

 and the trout escaped with the wire dangling behind him. 

 It was necessary to catch that fish and recover the wire 

 or resort to lion meat; and again Johnnie was equal to 

 the job. Splitting the end of bis pole, he inserted a large 

 pin and fastened it in place with a piece of string. A 

 few jabs in the gills with this improvised spear soon 

 caused the wire-bedecked fish to turn up his tail, and by 

 thus securing the snare the boys were enabled to catch 

 sufficient trout for supper and breakfast. 



A night in the hills in winter with no blankets or wraps 

 is not to be recommended for a single person, but two or 

 more may endure it without serious discomfort. Select- 

 ing a thick spruce tree for a shelter, Phil commences 

 laying in a good supply of fire-wood, while Johnnie pro- 

 ceeds to broil some trout on sharp sticks. A few cold 

 flapjacks and several hot trout fortify them for the night, 

 and after satisfying their hunger both commence cutting 

 fine spruce twigs and spreading them under the tree for a 

 bed. When a good layer has been secured the fresh lion 

 hide is spread over it, the fire is replenished and the heat 

 from it reflects from the foliage above and thoroughly 

 dries and warms the bed. Then both turn in, and when 

 the fire dies down Johnnie replenishes it and dozes off for 

 another half hour, and so on until he has been on duty as 

 fireman for a couple of hours, when he awakens Phil, who 

 attends to it for two hours more, and so on until daybreak. 



Breakfast consists solely of trout; for the flapjacks have 

 all been eaten, and after it is over the boys return to the 

 trout hole and secure a fine mess of fish. Having insured 

 a sufficient supply of provisions to last another day 

 should they be obliged to remain out, they commence to 

 look for the horses. After a long search the distant notes 

 of a bell are heard and soon the horses are discovered 

 feeding on the new grass which they will scarcely Jeave 

 for the handful of oats which Johnnie holds out to them. 

 They are pretty thin, but have done well considering the 

 severity of the winter. 



It is impossible to get them out owing to the deep snow, 

 so Johnnie reluctantly leaves them and both boys start 

 back to camp, where the fish and lion hide had been left. 

 The return trip with the fish and hide was a severe one, 

 but when they had filled themselves full of trout, potatoes 

 stewed in cream and flapjacks., and enjoyed a nap in 

 Sam's famous chair before the fire, both were ready to 

 start again on a similar trip. EnWi F. Ball. 



New Castle, Colorado. 



WISCONSIN WANDERINGS— II. 



At Glen wood I was introduced by the clerk of the little 

 hotel to Mr. C. M. Bunker, cashier of the Glenwood Man- 

 ufacturing Co. Having made friends with Mr. Bunker's 

 setter before the introduction, it took very little time to 

 come to an understanding with Mr. Bunker. He said there 

 were "some chickens about ten miles out, but it is the 

 first of the month and I can't get away" [I knew right 

 then that he was not a reader of Forest and Stream, or 

 he would have said "chained to business"], "which I re- 

 gret exceedingly. If you care to go alone, you are wel- 

 come to my horse and buggy, dog, and gun, if you have 

 no gun with you." And this generous offer was made to 

 a man whom he had never seen, nor heard of perhaps, 

 before. It will be better understood what a generous 

 offer it was when it is known that the dog is a nervous, 

 high-bred one, that a poor handler might spoil in a few 

 hours; the horse a high-bred animal also, and has a record 

 of fifty-five miles in seven hours to a common buggy and 

 over common country roads, and the gun a new hammer- 

 less that has every speck of dirt cleaned off before it is 

 allowed to go into its case. The offer was an illustration 

 of the free masonry of true sportsmanship. 



I told Mr. Bunker that no words could express the 

 honor he did me in putting such property at my disposal, 

 but I could not think of accepting, for not having seen 

 the dog handled in the field I might spoil him, and we 

 would hope that some day we might both have a day off 

 together. "I am very sorry I can't go," said Mr. Bunker; 

 "but if you don't care to go alone, come to the office with 

 me and we will talk together anyway." 



At the office the talk was about guns and ammuntion. 

 Mr. Bunker was an enthusiast over nitro powders, but 

 had not used any of the Troisdorf , and wished to get some 

 shells loaded with it. I had some in my trunk, and a new 

 ejector gun that he wished to see; so I suggested that he 

 could spare an hour or two and that we have a gun and 

 ammunition trial, to which he agreed, but as we left the 



