836 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



{Dec. Si, 1895. 



night bed and a day bed depends largely upon the nature 

 of the country, the feeding grounds, and whether they 

 are hunted or not. Deer rise from their beds exactly as 

 cattle do— that is, they get up on their hind legs first and 

 then rise up on their front legs; in that way their feet are 

 placed in the beds and they mark the bottom of the beds. 

 Deer stretch, and stick out their hind legs, and grunt, and 

 wiggle their tails, and leave some droppings usually be- 

 fore leaving their beds if they are not driven out. They 

 take plenty of time to get up and stretch themselves before 

 starting from their beds if undisturbed. The amount of 

 droppings on the edge of a bed will indicate to a certain 

 extent the length of time that the deer has remained in 

 that particular bed. When a deer gets up, if he leaves no 

 droppings in the bed, he will be pretty sure to leave some 

 so near the edge of the bed that some of them will roll 

 into the bed. He will nearly always do so. 



Deer Feeding. 



Deer are usually on foot and feeding during the early 

 morning and early evening, and if the nights are moon- 

 light they are often on foot and feeding during the en- 

 tire night. They sometimes move about considerably on 

 dark nights, but not as a rule. They usually have finished 

 their feeding by 9 o'clock in the morning, and retire 

 to some quiet place to rest and sleep. If not disturbed 

 they seldom come away from their sleeping and resting 

 places before 4 or 5 o'clock in the afternoon, but 

 this will depend largely upon whether the day is bright 

 and sunshiny or dark and lowery; on dark days they 

 begin to stir about earlier. 



They have no special hours for going, or coming, or 

 feeding, but the rule is that they go and come and feed as 

 stated. Very likely the governing cause for their actions 

 is hanger. When they have fed, and their stomachs are 

 full, they are inclined to quiet, but when hungry they 

 start for their feeding grounds. Julian, 

 [to be concluded.] 



Woodcock Weights. 



Ojstario, Canada, Dec. 11.— Editor Forest and Stream: 

 The following remarks re woodcock may be interesting 

 to your correspondent E. C. B., of Osceola Mills, Pa., 

 whose letter I read in Forest and Stream of Dec. 7, 

 and perhaps to others of your readers. About the middle 

 of last October my brother and a friend drove into the 

 country about ten miles for a day's woodcock shooting. 

 My son, who does a little taxidermy, requested me to ask 

 them to save any good specimens which they happened to 

 secure. They returned with three small birds, attributing 

 their small bag to the fact that the northern birds had not 

 yet arrived. Subsequently the same party revisited the 

 same grounds and brought back a splendid specimen, a 

 large bird, which on being weighed on a platform scale, 

 used for weighing grain, tipped the beam at 12oz. The 

 smallest divisions on this scale were ^lbs. I have no 

 doubt, had this bird been accurately weighed on a fine 

 scale, it would have weighed a couple of ounces more. 

 My son mounted the bird and has it in his possession. A 

 few days later my son shot two birds equally as large, but 

 shot up too much for mounting. On the following day 

 he shot another bird just as large, which he mounted. 

 One day two years ago, on the same grounds spoken of, 

 our party shot seven or eight birds apparently as heavy as 

 the one written of by your correspondent. Every fall for the 

 last fifteen years we have killed quite a number of birds 

 as large as the one weighed. When, years ago, birds 

 were plentiful about here, we never secured in the sum- 

 mer time such large birds as we got in the fall. It ap- 

 pears, therefore, to me as if these large birds were of a 

 different species and bred further north. 



Wm, Holliday. 



Three? Duck Broods in a Season. 



Essex, Conn., Dec. 11.— Editor Forest and Stream: 

 A friend of mine in town has a pair of Long Island call 

 ducks which have raised three broods this last summer. 

 The last brood was hatched about six weeks ago. Is not 

 that something quite unusual? p. 



[What are the "call ducks?" The three broods are 

 unusual.] 



"That reminds me." 

 Some time since while hunting in company with three 

 other sportsmen, and jolly good fellows they were too— 

 whom we will call Bill, Tomp and Jack— among the dense 

 thickets several miles off to the northeast of Lakewood, 

 the dogs followed a big rabbit up near to where Bill and 

 Tomp were standing. 



As it was going from them like a streak of lightning, 

 they both banged away, but missed it, seemingly, mind 

 ou; the dogs continuing in its track. Soon afterward 

 ack came up, and when he learned that it had got away 

 he started after the dogs, which were barking at a little 

 distance, saying as he crashed through the bushes that 

 he'd "have that rabbit or die in the attempt." In a short 

 time bang went his gun and soon after that he emerged 

 from the thicket, and in answer to our inquiries said that 

 he bad made a most splendid shot; for the rabbit, after 

 having run some distance into the brush, had doubled 

 and while it was coming on the full jump along a wood 

 path directly toward him he "had knocked it over wjfti 

 that shot just as slick as grease." 



Then he took bunny from the pocket of his hunting 

 coat, and while showing it to the rest of us we noticed it 

 had received several shot in the rear, but not a single one 

 could we find in front, which naturally haa a tendency to 

 make us set up a thinking. "How in thunder did you fill 

 that rabbit's hind part full of shot when he was coming 

 toward you?" asked Tomp, after having examined it 

 closely. "None of your business how I did it," answered 

 Jack with a show of anger, "but I shot it all the same 

 just as I told you." "Then it must have been coming 

 along that path tail foremost," again put in Tomp, which 

 brought out a horselaugh from the rest of the gang at 

 Jack s expense, and the conclusion we came to in regard 

 to his "splendid shot" was that either Bill or Tomp or 

 both had hit the rabbit and the dogs had run it down 

 which as soon as Jack had found, he fired off his gun to 

 make the rest of us think that he had shot it, little think- 

 ing that the dead g&me would show to the contrary. 



But it was some time before he heard the last about the 

 effect of his unaccountable shot. A. L L 



\mt[t §ag md 0nn. 



FIXTURES. 



March 16 to 21, 1R96 —Second annual Sportsmen's Exposition, under 

 the auspices of the Sportsmen's Association, at Madison Square 

 Garden, New York city. Frank W. Sanger, Manager. 



UNUSUAL SCORE AT RUFFED GROUSE. 



No bird, I believe, is prized so highly by a majority of 

 field shooters as the ruffed grouse, generally called par- 

 tridges in the States of New York, New Jersey and Con- 

 necticut, and pheasant in Pennsylvania. If it were left to 

 a vote of the sportsmen the ruffed grouse would certainly 

 be voted the most difficult to hunt successfully for man or 

 dog. No bird knows better how to baffle and evade its 

 pursuers and none will dish out more disappointments to 

 the average shooters than it. 



There are hundreds of good field sportsmen in the 

 States above mentioned who have killed hundreds of 

 heads of quail, woodcock, snipe and other game, but who 

 have never killed a single grouse, or at least not over half 

 a dozen of them, in their lives, although birds are within 

 easy reach of them. 



Years ago I had learned successfully to kill snipe, ducks, 

 woodcock and quail, could shoot pigeons from the trap 

 and handle the gun as well as most men, yet I could not 

 kill ruffed grouse with deliberation, and they would beat 

 me oftener than all other game birds combined. Dozens 

 of failures to kill fair shots in former years are indelibly 

 impressed upon my memory, yet I hunted these birds in 

 preference to any other game bird, as they had an irre- 

 sistible attraction for me which no other game bird could 

 begin to equal. Never have I ever experienced the same 

 sensation of pleasure, pride and satisfaction when bagging 

 any other game as when making a good clean kill at a 

 ruffed grouse. From my earliest career as a field shooter 

 I loved and at the same time respected this bird until my 

 shooting companions called me a crank on partridge 

 shooting. 



And yes, I plead guilty. I am still a crank, only in a 

 more pronounced degree, and form more dangerous to th« 

 bird than during my early experience. During the last 

 dozen years I have paid up for old debts, and since these 

 years I have hunted ruffed grouse almost to the exclusion 

 of all other game, and believe I have since bagged more 

 of these noble birds than any other man in New York 

 city. 



My difficulty, like that of most unsuccessful grouse 

 shooters, was that the bird with its thunderous noise 

 would rattle me, and ever since I learned to control my- 

 self upon the bird taking wing I began to improve my 

 success in killing them until I have repeatedly succeeded 

 in making scores which I believe are seldom equaled or 

 surpassed. At the same time I repeatedly meet with con- 

 ditions while hunting grouse which make good scores on 

 paper impossible. 



During my four days' Thanksgiving hunt in Sullivan 

 county I shot two days and made an unusual score over 

 an orange and white coarse native setter, Duke, whom I 

 broke on grouse some four or five years ago. The dog is 

 difficult to keep in proper condition, as he has bad feet 

 and other faults, but when physically fit he is about the 

 most killing partridge dog 1 have ever seen. He is not a 

 slow dog; on the contrary, ranges off and goes over a 

 good deal of ground, and -has a way of using both foot 

 and body scent that enables him to approach and hold 

 birds which under other conditions would act wild. 



During these two days I fired in all at game nineteen 

 cartridges, never once firing the second barrel, and killed 

 and bagged eighteen head of game, consisting of fourteen 

 ruffed grouse and four cottontails, firing only one shell at 

 a grouse unsuccessfully. The shooting was not easy, on 

 the contrary, rather hard and of all descriptions. I shot 

 at everything that I would shoot at under any ordinary 

 circumstances, and that there was no picking of shots is 

 shown by the fact that I only saw eight birds and killed 

 seven of them each day. 



The eighth bird the first day was one of two flushed 

 together on the edge of a hillside laurel thicket, of which 

 I killed one, not being able to shoot at the other. Fol- 

 lowing up the remaining bird the dog flushed and pointed 

 it in high laurels in a corner of a swamp, it lying close, 

 its mate having been killed and the cover being very dense. 

 After taking a position on top of an old stump, raised 

 about 3ft. off the ground, 1 ordered my companion, 

 Charlie Snyder, who carried my game and accompanied 

 me both days, to flush the bird. It went out of the thicket 

 low into the open and across the next cover. I fired this 

 shot only— well, I'll make no excuses, but few men 

 would have wasted a shell at it. 



The eighth bird on the second day was being trailed by 

 the dog late in the evening and got out of a low tree and 

 waB not shot at nor found again, it being quite dark. I 

 mention the above score not for the purpose of bragging, 

 but as a curiosity and an instance of a remarkable com- 

 bination of all that brings success, and give my word as a 

 man that my statement is true and not stretched in any 

 way. I fired during these two days nineteen shells and 

 bagped eighteen head of game, fourteen grouse and four 

 rabbits. 



Of course luck played a part in the success, as two birds 

 at least were killed outside of 60yds. and several at long 

 range. One bird was bagged after flying 100yds. or 

 more. All birds of course were killed on the wing, most 

 of them over points or while the dog was trailing, but 

 several were killed on unexpected rises. 



Successful runs like the above are almost or quite be- 

 yond the belief of tome occasional grouse shooters, yet 

 similar scores are sometimes made, and I have seen good 

 scores made by others. I started in this season kifling 

 the first five or six grouse straight, with as many shells. 

 Three or four years ago, while hunting with a brace of 

 dogs, I killed nine ruffed grouse with ten consecutive sin- 

 gle shots in a single day. The same year I averaged over 

 eight birds to my gun during the whole season. Several 

 years ago I made two good doubles in succession after hav- 

 ing hunted for years and having killed hundreds of bi< ds 

 without ever having made a fair and square double, but 

 have made other doubles before and since. 



Birds are not plentiful this season — in fact scarce in 

 such parts of New York State and Pennsylvania as I have 

 hunted. In New York and New Jersey, near home, there 

 are a good many birds, but so wild that good bags are 

 practically impossible, birds rising out of sight. 



I am using for all my field shooting a 12-gauge, 26in.< 

 barrel, 6J r lb. Francotte gun, both barrels choked— though 

 not full choked— and consider it the most perfect gun in 

 weight and length of barrel I have ever handled for up- 

 land field shooting. My ammunition for ruffed grouse is 

 42grs. of Schultze powder and 1-^oz, of No. 7 chilled shot 

 in a TJ. M. C. No. 3 primer case. J. von Lengerke. 



GROUSE TRICKS AND DOG WAYS. 

 •Newt and I have been doing some hunting this fall, ' 

 and so far have improved a bit over last year, although I 

 cannot yet shoot a partridge on the wing, but did get one 

 duck nicely on the wing once this season. 



We had rather a strange experience one afternoon on. 

 Shefford Mountain. We had put up several partridges, 

 managing to get one and a gray squirrel. Newt said he 

 knew that some we had raised had by that time got back 

 to the beech trees for their supper. 



We went cautiously that way, going up an old road 

 ascending quite a hill, when turning a corner near some 

 ground hemlocks we saw two partridges feeding near the 

 foot of a large beech. 



It was a fairly long shot, but we could not get nearer, 

 so I let drive at them, when one flew away, the other 

 starting straight up in a flustered manner through the 

 branches of the beech, finally arriving among the small 

 limbs at the top, where she caught on a twig, her wings 

 still spread, supported by other twigs. She appeared to 

 be fairly alive, so I tried the other barrel, the shot knock- 

 ing twigs and nuts all around her, but she never stirred. 

 That was my last cartridge. Newt pulled up and tried 

 her with the same success. He had one cartridge left, 

 which he insisted I should use, get a little closer and 

 bring her down. 



I slipped in the cartridge, approached about 20 r t. 

 nearer and fired at her carefully, but she never stirred, 

 although through her outstretched wings we could plainly 

 see shot holes. 



Newt said she was dead, the limbs holding her there, 

 but I said her head stood out too well for that. 



We went up under the tree, talking and making a 

 noise, but she never stirred. I had one cartridge loaded 

 with buckshot and smokeless powder, which I carry this 

 fall, as a deer has been frequently seen around here this 

 summer. I did not want to shoot her with that, as it 

 would tear her all up, but Newt said to try it anyway. I 

 kneeled downright under her, she being about 60ft. above 

 my head, took careful aim at her head, "d la Cunning- 

 ham," but missed her, the shot cutting off a limb a few 

 inches in front of her beak. She still stood there. 



Newt said if the tree was not so large he would climb 

 it, as he was sure he could -shake her out, as he had no 

 doubt she was dead. The tree was about 15in. through, 

 and about 25ft. to the first limb, so I said I would try it. 



It pulled my wind a bit to get to the first limbs, where 

 I rested, the partridge in plain sight. I then started up 

 through the limbs, and nearing the partridge told Newt 

 she was alive, but perhaps was badly wounded, that to be 

 ready for her, as when I shook the limb I believed she 

 would run when she struck the ground. 



He assured me that he would catch her if I shook her 

 out. 



I was then within about 8ft. of the partridge, and plac- 

 ing my hand on the limb I commenced to shake; at the 

 first vibration the partridge spread her wings and sailed 

 away down through the woods apparently as strong as 

 ever. From my height I could see just about where she 

 lit among some ground hemlocks, but ongoing over there 

 could not find a feather. 



It has been a great mystery to us what become of her, 

 Newt still maintaining she was dead, but I am sure when 

 I saw her bright eyes up in the tree within 8ft. of her 

 that she was not hurt, and yet with five shots at her, all 

 the noise we made climbing the tree and all, I don't see 

 why she did not fly before. 



Newt had another experience at the same place a day 

 or two after. He came cautiously up the hill, I going in 

 another direction, when he saw one partridge in a small 

 beech tree, one just under it and another in a birch at 

 one side. He had a single barrel, first shooting the one 

 on the ground, which heeled right over. He then fired 

 at the furthest one in the birch, which flew away. He 

 then tried the one in the beech, noticing while loading 

 that the first one was still at the foot of the tree dead, and 

 brought her down. It was on the bank of our trout brook, 

 which just there was rather steep, so that the one from 

 the tree in striking the ground fluttered and was rolling 

 down the bank. He made for it, secured it and then 

 went to pick up the one at the foot of the tree, but could 

 not find her. Hearing so much shooting I had come over, 

 and although we both searched diligently we could not 

 find her, but at the foot of the tree it was strewn with 

 feathers and could plainly see where the shot had struck 

 light under and all around her. 



It is still a mystery what became of her. 



He had a similar experience up near Warden, where he 

 found two in different trees, downing both, but we could 

 find only one, although we found feathers at the foot of 

 the tree and could plainly see where her body struck. 



We have been out a number of times, hunting all after- 

 noon and coming home empty-handed after seeing plenty 

 of birds, but we are never discouraged. When driving 

 home we talk the matter over and try and plan how 

 to get ahead of them the next time, but somehow the 

 next time they have some other trick, and at times it 

 seems discouraging, as we never appear able to know juat 

 where they are going to be or what they are going to do 

 about it. 



We are going to try them some more now that we have 

 some snow, but presume we will have to learn a lot about 

 their tricks on snow before we can come up to their cun- 

 ning, so perhaps the season will be over before we have 

 them down pat, and then no doubt we will have to learn it 

 all over again next season. 



Still I believe we enjoy it as much in anticipation, yes, 

 even more than in participation ; at any rate we both agree 

 that we would be ashamed of ourselves if we went out 

 eight afternoons and shot 147 partridges, as one of your 

 correspondents did early in the season. We have not 

 heard much about "game hogs" this season, but what 

 would Dick of Connecticut think of him for a sports- 

 man? 



By the way, I suppose he considers me a "pot hunter," 

 as no doubt many of your readers will, for shooting a par- 

 tridge sitting, but I believe the man that will go to the 

 woods, leaving his dogs at home, hunt up his own birds 



