448 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Nov. 23, 1895. 



practically valueless, the trap editor volunteered to try 

 again as soon as the suspicions of the animal had been 

 somewhat allayed. (Later it was discovered that the 

 negative contained only the gigantic body and legs of an 

 animal that closely resembled a chimpanzee. This was 

 caused by the proximity of the subject to the camera, 

 showing the closeness of the call.) The kennel editor, 

 fresh from the dangers attending the effort, did his best 

 to dissuade his brother editor from immolating himself 

 on the altar of scientific research; for, said he, ''Do you 



CHAINED TO BUSINESS. 



not remember the horrible and malicious ferocity of this 

 animal and its undaunted courage and strength without 

 limit, as described by Paul Chaillu, the great African ex- 

 plorer? The animal has no end of accidental deaths and 

 broken heads concealed about his person, which he gives 

 with a lavish hand to those who incur his anger." 



But this argument availed naught. The trap editor 

 divested himself of his overcoat and umbrella, and there 

 came that look on his face which boded ill for man or 

 beast which crossed his purpose. He took the camera 

 and left a message for the dear ones at home in the event 

 that the worst befell him. The kennel editor volunteered 

 to go along and hold the animal while the trap editor did 

 the execution, which friendly offer was ignored. 



The trap editor first stealthily crept along a fence for a 

 few yards, then observing that his prey was seeking in- 

 sects, he glided quickly and noiselessly behind a large 

 tree, where he took breath for a few moments, and pre- 

 pared himself for the final effort. No Indian in his 

 native forest was more sinuous, silent and resolute, and 

 few indeed ever showed more indifference to peril or a 

 better nerve. The young man then set his instrument 

 and roached his back and took aim; the click of the shut- 

 ter alarmed the ferocious relative of man's ancestors, and 

 with demoniac rage he sprang toward the daring in- 

 truder; his fetters rattled and we discovered that he was 

 ""'chained to business." 



After this startling episode we plunged still deeper into 

 the wilderness, keeping our eyes open, as we hoped soon 

 to espy a dozen deer or so in a bunch; ones and twos we 

 expected to find so common as to be unworthy of notice. 

 A distant cabbage patch that bordered on one of the 

 wildest portions of the jungle caught our fancy. With 

 ordinary luck a stealthy sneak might result in a negative 

 showing a half-score of the cabbage destroyers taken in 

 flagraivte delictu. We remembered how Burnham had 

 exhibited with pride a negative of a single pensive doe, 

 daintily munching her breakfast of succulent lilypads; 

 our negative would far transcend his — but there was no 

 deer there, nor could we detect any ravages in the crops 

 save those of the knife. This was one of the greatest dis- 

 appointments of the day. We visited other cabbage 

 patches during the day with like results. 



Returning to the trail, we followed it for about a mile 

 into the virgin wilderness, noting with some wonder that 

 it was defaced by the tracks of horses and wagons, show- 

 ing signs of much traffic. All the trails in this vicinity 

 were marred in a similar manner. No game of any kind 

 save a solitary and evidently vagrant specimen of the 

 felis domesticus tomcommunis was seen. Of this animal 

 we would gladly have made a negative, to prove further 

 the wildness of the country and also on account of the 

 Cimmerian darkness of its fur; but it stood not on the 

 order of its going — it went. 



Decayed and broken-down rail fences bore silent testi- 

 mony to the great age of the wilderness and to the ease 

 with which the cabbage eaters could assail their victims. 

 A valuable piece of information was obtained from a hus- 

 bandman whom we met up with a half mile further in 

 he bowels of the jungle: 



"Why, yes, there's some deer around here; not more'n 

 usual tho'. Do I often see 'em? Haw-haw! Well, I'm 

 gumswazzled! What do you city fellers think deer is, 

 anyway?" and a broad grin illuminated his features. 

 "Like groun' squirls, I suppose, runnin' along fences 'n' 

 barkin' at people when they gets a good ways off? How 

 about my cabbages? As good as ever, and that's say in' a 

 good deal, 'cause I can raise cabbages that is cabbages on 

 this lot o' mine. Does deer bother me any? Why, nothin' 

 to brag about: there's other things besides deer that like 

 cabbages. What things? Why, just things that get in 

 among 'em when I don't keep my fences up same as I 

 ought to. Got a spare chew of terbacker, either of you 

 gents? Don't chew! Gosh! Chew White's Yucatan 

 gum, d'ye say? Good thing, push it along, is it? Well, 

 mebbe it's all right for you city fellers, but out in these 

 parts we chaws terbacker — when we can get it. B'gosh. 

 it's good though. Yes, there'll be more deer next fall, I 

 don't doubt, but this fall they're about the same as last, 

 no more and mebbe lees; there was a sight of 'em killed 

 last year to my knowledge. It was like the Fourth o' 

 July round here when the boys was out after 'em, crack- 

 ing and banging to beat the devil. A man wasn't rightly 

 safe in his own yard. Do the winds as a rule blow from 

 the north in the winter? Haw-haw! Think yer right 

 smart, don't yer? Well, s'long." 



We were beginning to get a little disheartened. Nega- 

 tives of deer, even of a single specimen, seemed now diffi- 

 cult of realization. It began to look as if we had been 

 fooled. The only thing that cheered us was the husband- 

 man's remark about the "things." Perhaps we might 

 get some negatives of some of these cabbage destroyers so 

 vaguely hinted at. 



In Indian file, plunging still deeper into the mazes of 

 the jungle, we kept on, the kennel editor leading the way. 

 All of a sudden he turned, and in true hunter's fashion 

 placed his finger to his lips and hoarsely whispered, 

 "Hist." Following the direction of his eyes, the trap 

 editor instantly spied the game, a veritable cabbage de- 

 stroyer. When first seen it was lying down in one of the 

 most impenetrable portions of the wilderness. Its sex 

 could not then be ascertained, but it was noticed that it 

 had horns. The wind was from the right quarter, and a 

 negative of the cabbage destroyer in its lair might have 

 been obtained but for the bulk of the trap editor, which 

 made a noiseless passage across dry sticks an impossibility. 

 The negative, as shown by the accompanying cut, tells 

 that the cabbage destroyer was caught by the camera im- 

 mediately after it had sprung from its lair and while it 

 was contemplating a precipitate flight. (Note by the 

 editor.— A close microscopic examination of the photo- 

 graph discloses the fact that the specimen was a genuine 

 bos jersey anus, a species by no means rare in the jungle 

 of Long Island.) 



Shortly after we had secured this negative we experi- 

 enced another piece of luck, being overtaken by the 

 "oldest inhabitant" of that wild region, who was riding 

 in a springiess wagon that was drawn by a sway -backed 

 horse, which had evidently overstepped the span of life 

 allotted to members of the equine race. Pulling up his 

 horse, a feat by no means so difficult as it sounds, he 

 offered to help us on our way. Here was indeed a chance. 

 Did not our contemporary from the land of the setting sun 

 assert that "it is no uncommon thing to see from three to 

 a dozen during a single drive?" Of course we gladly ac- 

 cepted the offer and took our share of the single seat, will- 

 ing to put up with any amount of jolting so long as we 

 had a sure chance of seeing ' 'from three to a dozen deer" 

 thereby, as the authoritative information implied that the 

 sight was for "a single drive" — not two or more drives, 



A CABBACfE EATER. 



and not for people afoot. Thus we left no stone unturned 

 to fulfill the conditions enjoined by our esteemed contem- 

 porary. 



How far we drove we had no means of calculating. It 

 is sufficient to state that we rode as far as we could into 

 the midst of the wilderness, only leaving the wagon when 

 arriving at our guide's domicile, which was indicated by 

 "the oldest inhabitant" saying that he wasn't "goin' no 

 further." There was no help for it, and — we had not seen 

 a single deer, let alone "from three to a dozen," in our 

 long "single drive." 



But our ride had not been fruitless. Our guide had 

 been able, between his twinges of rheumatism, groans and 

 licking the stolid horse, to impart additional valuable tes- 

 timony in regard to the awful damage to "a field of grain 

 or cabbage patch," caused by the deer in the jungles of 

 Long Island. 



"Deer 'round here? 'Course ther' is, and have been ever 

 since I come here thirty-four years ago. Many as there 

 used to be? Not likely, seem' as how they've been shootin' 

 and killin' of 'em right along all these years. Fruit trees 

 and cabbage patches 'ud be all right if people 'ud keep 

 their fences mended, I reckon. Deer never bothered me 

 none that I know of. It's all humbug this talk. Many 

 monkeys about? Never saw one in my lot since I come 

 here, and can't say as they're real numerous. Never 

 bothered me and I never bothered them. I know feller* 

 as h as seen monkeys and blue mice too ! Haw-haw ! Gei t 

 up!" 



In the midst of the wilderness we heard the ting-a-ling 

 of a bell, a most startling sound 

 V-' where erstwhile was the silence 



>|gjj|4|w of wild nature, broken only by 



§BjUag| - - the harsh notes of the bluejays, 

 U^^H^^C^-i the caws of the crows, and the 

 cries of the cabbage eaters with- 

 t^^&Ss£m out cause. Instantly thereafter 



:., -'••] there glided by us a beautiful 



l{^l<m?L vision, a dryad on wheels, none 



/^l^miUmi tlie lees lovel y and lovable 



fry \sN\{ W | whether seen on the solitary 



,//'■'•■• t jtsjnl /V' tv&H °^ * ne wilderness or on the 



■■■ ill boulevards of effete civilization. 



Xy f yj The bicycle girl! Benisons upon 



\Lz£? ^er! ^ e did not classify her 



a rosebud op the wildernesb. 38 a cabbage eater, but rather 

 as a rosebud of the wilderneBS, 

 adorning and dignifying it. The gloom that had settled 

 on our spirits was dispelled, and we passed down the 

 trail brighter and better men. 



We now had before us three miles of the trail that led j 

 us through the very heart of the jungle. It was again a 

 sore disappointment to us to find that this trail, like the j 

 others we had struck, was much spoiled and cut up by the 

 hoofprints of beasts of burden, and by marks that could 

 only have been left there by the tires of wagon wheels. 



As we meandered along we discovered another denizen ! 

 of the wilderness. Wrapped in patriarchal dignity, and I 

 conscious of his own forceful dignity, stood a useful speci- 1 

 men of the Capra buttsoria (vulg. billygoat), one of the ! 

 "things" which prey on cabbage when the eyes of the 

 husbandman are not upon him, or when the tomato-can 

 plant which he loves so dearly is not in bloom. The trap 

 editor approached the goat, humped in that alarmingly 

 stealthy manner so peculiar to the itinerant photographer, 

 yet withal so harmless in itself. The goat interpreted it 

 as an unfriendly attitude, and became eccentric in its de- 

 portment, as is truthfully depicted in bis pen portrait. 

 The attempt to photograph him was abandoned, he being , 

 "uncertain, coy and hard, to please." 



The next sign of game was apparent when we came to 

 a place where a bevy of quail had been dusting. Not 

 being able to locate them, we had to move on without 

 obtaining a negative. From that point to where we 

 struck the main line of the Long Island Railroad, a monu- 

 ment to the skill and hardihood of the fearless engineers 

 who first ventured into this wilderness, we saw a fair 

 amount of deer signs. Tracks in the sand, at varying in- 

 tervals of from 200 to 500yds., showed us where deer had 

 crossed the road some time within the previous few days. 

 (We preserved carefully a few of the tracks. If any one 

 cares to call at the office of Forest and Stream to view 

 them, we shall be glad to show the same at any hour on 

 Nov. 28.) 



Reaching the railroad, we followed its course to Center , 

 Islip, noting as we passed a runway where the deer 

 crossed to and fro between the preserve of the South Side 

 dub and the outlying portions of the jungle. 



We found later on that the railroad formed the north- 

 ern boundary of the game preserve of the South Side Club, 

 of Long Island, in whose territory of 40,000 acres the deer 

 find a safe harbor. That the deer are aware of their 

 safety in the preserve is very evident, as we found on fol- 

 lowing the railroad track for about a half a mile deer 

 crossings were quite numerous compared with what we 

 had struck on the trail through the wilderness. We saw 

 quite five or six places where single deer had crossed in 

 and out of the preserves of the club. 



On our arrival at Center Islip we made the acquaintance 

 of an aged and experienced deer hunter who had resided 

 in the jungle of Long Island for several years, and who 

 had himself taken part in the slaughter of deer during . 

 the six days of open season last fall. After a few general 

 remarks, we broached the subject of deer to him. This I 

 fortunately seemed to be a favorite theme with him, and 

 upon it he talked readily. The conversation was a long 

 one and covered the matter thoroughly — so much so that 

 we shall only attempt to give the substance of it. 



He stated that the two years' close season on deer was i 

 not a popular one in that section, inasmuch as it was 1 

 scarcely safe for a man to take his dogs out into the jungle i 

 to hunt rabbits, the risk being that the dogs were liable to 

 strike a deer trail and thus run a chance of being shot for 

 illegally pursuing deer out of season. This risk hardly \ 

 seems as great as he made out, since from his own state- 

 ments the neighbors are all banded together and allow 

 each other to hunt over their posted lands, objecting only i 

 when a stranger comes upon the scene. ' 'Neighbors don't 

 care to do nothin' agin' one another as a gen'ral thing," 

 said he. He objected chiefly to the clause which permit- 

 ted the killing of his dogs while pursuing deer, as the 

 hunter might be out after rabbits and be wholly innocent 

 of any intention of having his dogs run deer. (He forgot 

 apparently that the law of previous years only permitted 

 bis dogs to run deer for the short period of six days. His 

 objection seemed to have an ulterior and suspicious 

 flavor.) 



He said further that in respect to the damage to cabbage 

 patches and grain fields, it was no greater this year than 

 in previous years, and was not serious at any time. Once 

 in a while it happened that deer did some damage to 



another cabbage eater. 



growing crops, but it was too infrequent and trifling to 

 seriously consider. 



As regards the number of deer, he said they were no 

 more plentiful than last year, probably not so numerous. 

 He mentioned that one had been seen passing through the 

 outskirts of the town about ten days previous to our visit. 

 This he referred to as a noteworthy event, although the 

 incident occurred less than a mile from the runway. This 

 would seem to indicate that the deer are not wandering 

 around in marauding bands, and that they are not so 

 easily seen, at least by actual residents, in the heajrt of the 



