Oct. 26, 1895.] 



FOREST AND STREAM, 



361 



MY FIRST WILD TURKEY. 



To look back and tbinfe of how I killed my first wild 

 turkey, or rather turkeys, has always been a source of 

 delight to me, and though I have shot many turkeys since 

 I think I never experienced the same feeling of exulta- 

 tion. 



I was a boy going to school. I lived in central Penn- 

 sylvania, and in our neighborhood the wild turkeys were 

 about the largest game found, and even they were not 

 found in very large numbers. I had graduated from the 

 use of the single-barrel gun, and was now, in my own 

 mind, at the top of the pile, being the possessor of a muzzle- 

 loading, double-barrel shotgun, the praise of which I could 

 never cease singing; and I honestly believed at that time 

 that another gun to shoot like that one had never been 

 made and never would be, although there was not the 

 least thing about it to indicate its pedigree. I had killed 

 the wary black duck, shot four gray squirrels in one fore- 

 noon once, which gave me a passing recognition by the 

 older local gunners, who scorned me on their hunting ex- 

 cursions because I "had not the age on me." And once I 

 had shot a ruffed grouse on the wing, but how I did it I 

 have not the remotest idea; anyway, it got up in a thicket 

 of cedars, I pointed the gun and fired, and picked up the 

 dead grouse. For a long time this was my greatest ex- 

 ploit, and although I told every person I knew how I had 

 shot it flying, it has always appeared to me that they did 

 not put the most solid confidence in me, and although no 

 one said outright that they believed I Bad shot it off a tree 

 or old log, still I could see a tinge of disbelief. 



My ambition was to receive recognition by the "old 

 hunters" of the town, to take part in their discussions in 

 the store, and I even built my hopes so high as that I 

 might some day be asked to accompany them on some of 

 their hunting excursions; but my age didn't merit it and 

 I saw that I would have to do something to distinguish 

 myself, and I came to the conclusion that the proper 

 thing to do would be to kill a wild turkey. If I could 

 only do that my fondest hopes would be realized, for 

 among all these "hunters" the ones who had killed their 

 turkey were very scarce, and could I succeed in my ob- 

 ject I could take a seat among those of the front rank 

 and would be asked time and again during the long win- 

 ter nights to tell the story of how I did it. And so I 

 made up my mind to try. 



Saturday was the only day in the week I had to hunt, 

 being compelled to "go to school; and I can assure you 

 that rain or shine on every Saturday morning during the 

 the open season when the sun came up it found me on 

 the mountain waiting to hear a gobbler. Bat all to no 

 advantage, although I could see where the turkeys had 

 scratched among the leaves for chestnuts, apparently the 

 night before. Things went on in this way for some time. 

 Now and then I would meet an older hunter, and owing 

 to my extremely youthful appearance and the isolated 

 locality in which I was hunting he would invariably ask 

 me if I wasn't lost, and would offer to tell me the direc- 

 tion home, but never, ah, never, condescended to ask me 

 to accompany him. 



My plan of hunting was go where I saw the most 

 "scratching" or where I thought the turkeys were most 

 likely to come; and to secrete myself in a hollow tree or 

 some other convenient shelter and there stay from sun- 

 up to sundown. One day, late in the afternoon, I had 

 become tired waiting and got out of my place of conceal- 

 ment, disgusted and out of humor generally. Of course, 

 during these excursions I would not take any account of 

 the occasional hare that jumped past me or the grouse 

 that boomed off through the trees, disturbed from his 

 meal of wild grapes, or the covey of quail that I saw 

 while crossing the fields going to my home in the even- 

 ing. In fact, nothing could tempt me. The two loads I 

 had in my gun were for turkeys, nothing else, and could I 

 get a shot at one anywhere inside of 50yds. not a doubt 

 entered my mind that he was my meat. But just at this 

 particular moment I was in a humor to have revenge on 

 ,r anything, and seeing a gray squirrel go into a hole in a 

 hollow chestnut tree I resolved to sit down, wait till be 

 came out and kill him. 



It had rained in the forenoon and the leaves were so 

 damp that I could walk without making much noise. 

 Taking a position where I would have a good shot at the 

 squirrel when he came out I sat down on a log. I had 

 waited about a quarter of an hour and the squirrel had 

 failed to come out, and I was thinking of going home, 

 when the breaking of a twig to my right startled me. 

 Looking in that direction 1 saw a sight that caused a feel- 

 ing to come over me that I had never before had and 

 have never since experienced. Within 25yds. of me was 

 a flock of between fifteen and twenty turkeys, walking 

 along and here and there picking up some nut or 

 choice morsel as unconcerned as if they were the 

 only live things in the neighborhood. For a moment 

 I didn't know what to do, in fact I couldn't have 

 done anything had I wished [to, for I was trembling 

 and shaking like a leaf with excitement, but I finally 

 braced up myself enough to raise my gun to shoulder 

 very, very slowly, for I knew any quick movement would 

 attract their attention, and as yet they had failed to see 

 me; and when my gun was in position I picked out two 

 close together that I knew I could kill at one shot, and 

 had my eye on another that I would shoob with my left 

 barrel. Pen can not describe the feeling of victory that 

 ' passed through me while I was pressing the trigger — the 

 long-wished-for opportunity was at hand. Well, I shot 

 and I got off the second barrel at one that run past me 

 not ten steps away, never touching it. When I went to 

 pick up the two young gobblers I had singled out for my 

 "trusty" right barrel, not a feather was there to greet me, 

 and it has always been a mystery to me what became of 

 that charge of shot; not a mark could be found on a tree 

 or bush in the direction I had fired; it could not have all 

 gone into the turkey, or he would have stayed there. 

 Some unkind person afterward suggested that it went 

 straight up in the air, and as I can prove nothing to the 

 contrary 1 suppose I will have to accept that solution, but 

 I do it very reluctantly. 



Now I was worse off than ever; to let people hear of my 

 failure would be disgrace, of the worst kind. The eyes 

 whom a moment before I was sure would look on me as 

 a hero would now laugh at me and say I had got 

 "rattled," had the "fever," and a dozen and one other 

 uncomplimentary remarks that I thought I could never 

 stand. However, by this time I had loaded up and was 

 going to start home, when about 300yds. away I heard a 

 faint peep, peep! and although I had never heard the 

 sound before, I knew it was a turkey calling. Whistling 



so as to imitate it as nearly as possible, I had hardly time 

 to conceal myself behind a tree when the turkey, a young 

 hen, answered me, and I could tell by the sound that she 

 was coming toward me. I gave one more call, and it 

 wasn't many minutes until 1 saw her walk out into an 

 open space hardly 80yds. away, anxiously looking for the 

 rest of her companions. Now I had a chance to redeem 

 myself, and carefully resting the said "trusty" over my 

 knee I took what I supposed to be deliberate aim and 

 fired. She sailed off through the treetops unhurt. 



Slowly and wearily I gathered myself up and started 

 for home. The only thing I could find satisfaction in 

 was in vehement expressions against the worth lessness of 

 my up to the present time phenomenal gun. This same 

 gun that I had so confidently declared not long before 

 was the best in the section I now disdained from having 

 anything to do with. It was my only avenue of escape, 

 and the poor gun had to stand it all. 



But I didn't give it up. Oh, no. At home was an old 

 army musket, so old and rickety that it had been laid 

 aside from use, and furthermore it was so heavy that it 

 was only with the greatest effort that I could hold it out 

 without a rest. But I had resolved to do something, and 

 I cleaned it up as best I could and loaded it. And what a 

 loadl Four charges of powder from an old tin flask such 

 as was used in those days, and a whole handful of No. 4. 

 And how carefully I selected the softest paper for wad- 

 ding I how I made the long steel ramrod jingle when I 

 rammed the powder! bow careful I was that the wad on 

 the shot should be firm, so there should be no danger of it 

 starting and letting the shot run out, and when I was 

 through I put the ramrod in the barrel and the load just 

 registered nine fingers! 



Armed with this relic of barbarism, the next Saturday 

 found me at my old battlefield. Late in the afternoon I 

 heard the turkeys scratching among the leaves in search 

 of chestnuts. It was a dry, calm day, and I could hear 

 them a long way off. I listened until I was sure which 

 way they were going, and by taking a circuitous route 

 succeeded in getting ahead of them. Taking position 

 behind a log, I rested the old musket over it and patiently 

 waited. How can I describe the alternate feelings of 

 hope and despair that came over me during that ten min- 

 utes' wait, as the sound of their movements in the leaves 

 would appear to be coming closer and then gradually die 

 away? I was soon rewarded, however, by seeing one 

 turkey coming directly toward me, then another and an- 

 other, until I found that I had succeeded in my object 

 and was right in their path. 



Hardly daring to breathe for fear they would detect me 

 I waited, and when they were within 30yds. two stopped 

 close together and I pulled. There was a terrific report 

 that echoed from mountain to mountain, the old musket 

 flew out of my hands and landed fully 10ft. from me, and 

 although unhurt I was somewhat stunned by the awful 

 recoil of the piece, but through the smoke I had caught a 

 glimpse of a turkey trying to stand on its head and going 

 through other antics, I had killed two. The old musket 

 had done its work faithfully, and for a long time I could 

 not get done singing its praises and condemning my 

 former favorite piece. 



Carefully hanging the two birds over my gun I marched 

 home, and I can truthfully say that it was the proudest 

 moment of my life, either before or since, when I exhib- 

 ited those turkeys. 



Brother sportsmen, did you ever have the "fever?" Of 

 course we are slow to admit it, but after we have achieved 

 greater deeds in after years what's the difference if we 

 look back some years, weigh the evidence and acknow- 

 ledge the truth, and as I look at my Lefever hammerless 

 now I can truthfully say that had I it instead of my 

 cheap Belgian muzzleloader at the time I had such a 

 golden, opportunity, I believe the result would have been 

 just the same. C. C. R. 



NOTES FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



St. Paul, Minn., Oct. 14. — Prairie chickens in Minne- 

 sota this year have been scarce as compared with other 

 years.. Partridges are plentiful in most sections. Ducks, 

 especially local, are not nearly so plentiful as they were in 

 other seasons. A very noticeable thing is the absence of 

 wood duck, which is pretty hard to account for, as we 

 always have lots of them. Deer are reported to be very 

 plentiful all through the northern part of the State, and I 

 think the new clause in our game law passed during the 

 last session, prohibiting the shipment of venison to any 

 commission merchant or sale market, will do more to stop 

 the wholesale slaughter than all the wardens we could 

 possibly appoint. 



I believe that Forest and Stream has done and is doing 

 a great work for the preservation of our game and fish all 

 over the United States. 



Sam. F. Fullerton, Ex. Agt. 



Petty, Tex,, Oct. 14. — The quail in this part of northern 

 Texas were never so plentiful. From every section come 

 the reports of large bevies, and as the time is near approach- 

 ing for my annual outing (being one of the chained), I 

 look forward to the 1st of November with great interest 

 and much pleasure, as Jim C. (my friend) has signified his 

 intention to make it Nov. 1. 1 will give the readers of 

 Forest and Stream an account of our outing. Prore. 



Pike Station, N. H., Oct. 8.— Two deer have been shot 

 within three miles of this place within a few days, and 

 a number of others seen in our immediate vicinity. 

 Ruffed grouse are very plentiful indeed throughout 

 northern New Hampshire tbis fall. It is not unusal to 

 scare up half a dozen flocks in -the course of two or three 

 hours' tramp through the woods surrounding any of our 

 villages. A few mornings ago on visiting my henyards I 

 found that one had committed suicide by hanging him- 

 self in the wire netting that fences in the yards. E. B. P. 



Deer Numerous, but Antlers Poor. 



Westerly, R, I., Oct. 17. — I have just returned from 

 a very successful hunting trip in the region about Lake 

 Chesuncook, where I killed a very fine bull moose and 

 what deer I wished to bring out. Deer seemed to be un- 

 usually plenty, easily seeing half a doz9n each day, and 

 impossible to take a walk of half a mile without starting 

 one. One thing that surprised me much was that I did 

 not see a single well-antlered buck, and this peculiarity 

 was commented upon by several from different sections of 

 this Chesuncook region. Partridges were unusually 

 abundant. Edwin R. Lewis. 



Foreigners in Manitoba. 



We have heard a good deal lately about "true sports- 

 men," "sportsmanlike feeling," "instincts of a sports- 

 man," etc, etc., until one feels as if a halt should be 

 called. Verily, they protest too much. One rather 

 doubts the honesty of the lawyer who is always talking 

 about the honor of his profession, his noble calling, his 

 professional honor, etc. True sportsmen, men who un- 

 selfishly love sport for sport's sake alone, are inclined to 

 be rare. There is no finer fellow than the true sports- 

 man, and unselfishness, good-fellowship and generosity 

 are his distinctive qualities. The sportsman who is not a 

 sportsman is generally found wanting in all these quali- 

 ties. He has one distinctive quality. There is only one 

 word that seems to convey the idea — hoggishnes?. I refer 

 especially to sports afield. When a sportsman is not a 

 sportsman he is a hog. And in a dozen different ways. 

 He wants the shadiest pool for bass and the best side of 

 the bluff for partridge. He kicks until he gets the best 

 "runway" to the lake and then growls when the deer 

 heads for the least likely. His only real joy seems to be 

 in counting the catch or the birds that have fallen to his 

 own gun. When in what he calls luck he lets the game 

 spoil on his hands, and is sulky if he lias had a bad day. 

 Like all good qualities when perverted, sport, when it is 

 not sport, is a most objectionable quality. Like a woman 

 who is bad, it is very bad. 



But this hoggishness has taken what some may consider 

 a broad and others a narrow phase in Manitoba. Broad 

 in the sense that they seem to want the whole Province 

 of Manitoba kept as a Bort of game preserve. And nar- 

 row, because they don't want outsiders to come into the 

 Province and shoot chickens. They want the chickens. 

 Now Manitoba is, unfortunately, situated so lar from the 

 rest of the world that good Winnipeg dollars will hardly 

 tempt a second-rate troupe of barn-stormers; and it 

 requires a considerable lot of literature to capture even 

 the nimble immigrant. The immigration caused by the 

 chickens that we can produce will not materially affect 

 the population of Manitoba to any material extent during 

 the season. Western Americans who are fond of shoot- 

 ing chickens patronize the home market. The Eastern 

 Yankees that are after blood and chickens are unfortu- 

 nately as few and far between as the teeth of the aforesaid 

 chickens. We would like another half dozen of these 

 Americans to come up every autumn. It costs them 

 about $100 a chicken, 1 should judge, by the bags they 

 make. George Gould and the other five Americans that 

 pursued the guileless chicken to her lair this fall didn't 

 appreciably spoil the chicken crop, but they spent a 

 good deal of money and enjoyed themselves. This 

 is where the hoggishness of these men who have been_ 

 writing to the papers about preventing Americans from 

 chicken shooting without numerous restrictions comes 

 in. Here were half a dozen millionaires who sought the 

 illimitable prairies of the West to knock around a bit, 

 see the country, talk dog and gun a lot, and bowl 

 over a few fiery, untamed chickens that blew up against 

 them; and some people want this country, which is like a 

 girl at her first ball, longing to be known — these people 

 seemingly want it locked up as a game preserve. These 

 men needn't be alarmed. The devastation that they fear 

 Mr. Gould and the other millionaires will create among 

 the k feathered game of Manitoba, and which they have 

 traveled over half a continent to devastate, will not 

 blight its prospects to an extent that the personal inspec- 

 tion of the marvelous grain fields of the West by men 

 who are themselves interested, or are in touch with those 

 who are interested in half the railway schemes of the 

 continent, will not compensate for. We can permit 

 them to slaughter a few dozen sturdy Canadian birds, if 

 the stooks and stacks of grain around which they stalked 

 the toothsome but guileless prairie chicken convinced 

 them that Manitoba was the greatest wheat-growing 

 country in the world. If men will be hoggish don't let 

 them be also ridiculous. — Winnipeg Saturday Night. 



The Lone Star is Hospitable. 



I am much pleased to see an article in Forest and 

 Stream of Sept. 5 from Mr. E. A. Wingo, of Texas, also 

 to see a lot of news in a previous number from Texas 

 Field. Our grand Lone Star State is entitled to a better 

 representation than it has had heretofore, and then I am 

 certain there are a great many sportsmen in the Lone 

 Star State who are able to chronicle their experience afield 

 in a manner that would be interesting. And why is it we 

 hear no more from the brother sportsmen of our beloved 

 State? Is it because they are selfish and want to keep the 

 outside world m ignorance in regard to the resources of 

 the game supply? I really think not. Well, then, why 

 don't some of our brother sportsmen write up th^ir ex- 

 periences and send it to the "good and dear old Forest 

 and Stream" (I should have said more of them), that 

 others may profit thereby? 



I see that Texas is beginning to be looked upon as a 

 land of game in season. There is plenty of small game 

 and some large game yet to be found iu a great portion of 

 the State. Mr. Hough's articles, published in serials in 

 Forest and Stream last winter, are sufficient proof of the 

 fact. 



And now the Memphis party is coming down next 

 month to try their luck, and I hope they may have as 

 good success as Mr. Hough's party did. Am sorry Mr. 

 Hough will be unable to accompany them, as his "Sunny 

 South" serial stories were so interesting. Hope the Mem- 

 phis party may take their "scribe" along with them, and 

 we may hear something from them through Forest and 

 Stream. 



Bidding them a hearty welcome to the hospitable 

 citizens of the coast country and also to the game covers 

 and retreats, and wishing the entire party much success. 



Provo. 



Petty, Tex. 



A Florida Game Country. 



New York, Oct. 13. — Editor Forest and Stream: If 

 you happen to know of a party of hunters who want a 

 good time in the wilds of Florida, but who do not know 

 where to go, I shall be glad to furnish them with the 

 name of a tnoroughly reliable guide, who, for a small sum, 

 will show them all the sport tbey want, unless they are 

 game hogs, the game including deer and turkeys. As I 

 have hunted with this guide myself for several winters 

 past, I know whereof I speak. It is my misfortune not to 

 be able to avail myself of his services this winter, but the 

 ties of business keep me "chained," etc. W. H. B. 



