66 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Auq. 18. 1887. 



IN THE CHEROKEE STRIP.-1X. 



IN the morning we said good-by to the 2 1 ranch and to 

 the good, square-toed boys who run it. They all 

 treated us so well that we felt bad over it. We went 

 there strangers, some of us, and inflicted three men, three 

 horses and five dogs on them, just as if the outfit belonged 

 to us: and we did this when we were not allowed to make 

 any recompense whatever for it. I wonder if we could 

 drive into a place that suited us in New York, and act the 

 same way. If thanks and good wishes go, we want to 

 square up that way with all the ranchmen we met in the 

 Cherokee Strip. They wont let us in any other. But 

 lest some thoughtless hunters, moved by what has been 

 said herein, should escape the soldiers long enough to 

 impose upon the ranchmen in that country, I will state 

 again that Mr. Allison was well known there, and that 

 we had some claim as his friends. Our absent host, Mr. 

 Greever, we never saw at all, except during the hurried 

 meeting on the way down. 



Now do you suppose Mr. Streeter woidd let us go on 

 through to Kiowa and get back to our business? No, sir. 

 We had to stop two days at his ranch, just below the line, 

 and chase coyotes. Of eoiuse, if we must, we must; and 

 we must: so we did. Here we made the acquaintance of 

 Mr. Streeter's married son and his son's wife, who live in 

 a very elegant interior in the very picturesque-looking 

 ranch house — Mr. Streeter himself living with his family 

 in Kiowa. This ranch house is jammed into the bank at 

 the edge of a pretty little basin, and is prettily overgrown 

 with trees whicli spring out of the bluff. I don't know of 

 what style of architecture you would call that house. It 

 had a good deal of bark to it and some shingles, and, I 

 believe, some boards, and perhaps a few logs, or split 

 logs. But it made the best picture, Ricker said, that we 

 found on the trip. If you could paint it, and mark it 

 "Swiss chalet," you could sell it for a pile of money to 

 somebody who is making a collection like the A. T, Stew- 

 art art collection. Nothing like getting outside of this 

 country for some folks. And then again for others there 

 is nothing like getting around on the inside of it. 



Our coyote hunting was interrupted on the second day 

 by a bad fall Mr. Allison got from his horse, spraining 

 his Wrist and laming his left shpulder. Old John is 

 usually sure-footed, but this time, in jumping a gully he 

 did not recover quick enough, stumbled against the rise 

 beyond and fell half upon his rider. That coyote got 

 away. Old John was badly lamed in the shoulder, too, 

 and indeed this fall, coming upon two weeks of continu- 

 ous hard riding, much of the time at full run, used the 

 old veteran up so badly that we could not get him home, 

 but left him in care of a farmer nearly a hundred miles 

 south of Hutchinson. As has been said before, coursing 

 on the Western plains is sport which is not free from 

 danger, and if one is not ready to take a fall, and per- 

 haps a serious one occasionally, he would better stay out 

 of it. It is sure to catch him sometime, if he rides right 

 to stay with the chase. 



Strang along the eaves of the cattle sheds at Mr. Street- 

 er's ranch were countless tails of coyotes, with the tro- 

 phies of four gray wolves. The latter animals are much 

 dreaded by the ranchmen, because of their destractive- 

 ness among calves and young cattle. Mr. Streeter showed 

 us the body of a yearling they had recently killed. But 

 to offset this he showed us, tacked out against the house, 

 a big gra} r wolf skin, which made our eyes bulge with 

 wonder — a perfect monster of a wolf, such as you read 

 about in the books. The hide, tacked out while frozen 

 and never properly stretched at all (they are so careless 

 about these things on the ranches), measured 6ft. from 

 the nose to the tip of tail. There was a wolf for you! 

 And there was a wolf fight for you, too. This big brute 

 did not seem to try to run away at all, but stood and 

 waited for the hounds to come up. Judge now, if old 

 Prince be not a dog of simply tremendous power and 

 courage. When he saw the wolf stand, he never stopped 

 an instant, but ran right in on him alone. The wolf and 

 dog reared up on their hindlegs together like two fight- 

 ing dogs, their hah bristling ah over, and each doing his 

 best to cut the other's throat. The clinch resulted in 

 Prince getting the wolf by the side of the neck and 

 throwing him by a sudden wrench. At this juncture the 

 big blue dog, which is Mr. Streeter's other mainstay, got 

 up and caught the wolf by the opposite shoulder." And 

 yet such was the size and strength of the wolf that it rose 

 to its feet with those two great dogs hanging to it and 

 actually began to walk off with them both, until the 

 other hounds got in, and Mr. Streeter ended a serious en- 

 counter by a bullet through the shoulders of the great 

 brute. 



When Mr. Streeter had first spoken of this skin, down 

 at the 2 1 camp, I public y coveted it and I am afraid 

 had bad taste enough to want to buy it of him. I never 

 did know a cattleman to sell anything — although they 

 often buy things — and Mr. Streeter laughed at me and 

 said he would give me the skin. As Mr. Allison had. 

 given me a very beautiful wildcat skin, and as I knew he 

 himself much wished this big wolf skin to put in a robe, 

 it might have been a little nicer in me to let Mr. Allison 

 have it. But I figured it this way: Mr. Allison had his 

 dogs and could come nearer to catching a gray wolf than 

 I could; also, if I let him take that skin, he might forget 

 some day— his dogs having secured him so many trophies 

 — and sort of tell some of the boys just how he killed that 

 wolf himself. Now, I knew Mr. Allison would be sorry 

 if he ever did make such a mistake as that, and so I dis- 

 interestedly resolved to prevent it. In short, I compro- 

 mised by telling him he could have the wolf skin when I 

 got done with it. 



Mr. Streeter's last act of hospitality was to pull down 

 this grand trophy — so rare a one that any hunter must 

 value it, no matter how much he hunted — and give it to 

 me, whom he had not known a week. What can you do 

 with such a man? Nothing, I suppose, but go into the 

 cattle business yourself, and be as near like him as possi- 

 ble. When I sent the big wolf hide in to the furriers at 

 Chicago, to have it made into a rug, they wanted to know 

 what price I put on it. I wonder if they took me for a 

 cattleman and thought I would give it them. I didn't. 

 No one can ever have that skin but Mr. Allison. He can 

 have it when I am done with it; in fifty or sixty years. 

 If Mr. Allison had not been good to me ho couldn't ever 

 have it at all. 



We said good-by again to friends whom it seemed we 

 had known a long time, and then we rolled on out of the 

 Territory. 



We were a melancholy-looking outfit as we pulled 



north, and showed hard work all over. Mr. Allison car- 

 ried his arm in a sling; old John, gaunt and lmcurried, 

 hobbled along with painful steps: the livery ponies— 

 though Mr. Streoter had given Ricker and myself fresh 

 horses at every hunt we had while at his place— were 

 tired, and went with drooping heads; Mike was in the 

 wagon, too lame to walk; Jim limped badly and had a 

 swelled ankle; Terry had two toes nearly torn off and 

 went very lame, and had besides a bad-looking nose; the 

 two foxhounds were beginning to look blear-eyed and 

 jaded from the dust of the road; all the dogs were torn' 

 and sore from then numerous fights; Ricker and I were 

 unshaven and disreputable-looking; even the old Black 

 Maria — fit vehicle for so funereal a band — flopped a melan- 

 choly torn curtain to the breeze. AVe were a used-up out- 

 fit. And it seems fit that our halting procession should at 

 last hobble off from these pages and make room for some- 

 thing better. §J, Hough. 



HUNTING IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



Lights and Shadows of an Indian Forester's Life 



XIII. 



THE following day being Saturday we not only took 

 lunch with us, but we determined to make a day of 

 it, and give the elephants a rest on Sunday. 



There were a dozen camels doing nothing, and calling 

 the drivers they got orders to bring in two loads of 

 elephant fodder each, to whicli of course they demurred 

 and which they did in spite of their demurrer. The 

 sun just made his appearance as we entered the valley 

 the party had taken on Thursday. There was a fresh 

 tiger's track on the pathway, and when it crossed the 

 stream a mile up there were so many fresh tracks that 

 it was evident the place must have been quite lively dur- 

 ing the past night. 



We beat up as far as the bog without residt, and after 

 an attempt to struggle through it, an attempt in which 

 the ponderous elephants sunk to their be! lies, and were 

 only kept from sinking altogether by the coarse grass, 

 we were very glad to get on terra firma again. After a 

 short council, it was decided that I should work along 

 the outer edge of the bog and throw shells, while the 

 Colonel and S. took up positions one at each end of the 

 bog on the side next the hill. As soon as they had got 

 into position about a quarter of a mile apart, I lighted a 

 fuse and sent in a first sheU, without effect; twenty yards 

 further I threw in a second, and this time I saw some 

 grass wave fifty yards ahead. Advancing abreast of it I 

 threw a third shell as far as possible, and saw sign of 

 something working through to the hill. I tried to get 

 nearer, but the elephant put one foot down in the bog, 

 and immediately drew back. By this time all was still 

 again, and I tried another rocket without result. I could 

 not throw far enough, and tried a rifle shot. This was 

 followed by a rush in the direction of the Colonel, and 

 as the grass parted in a straight line, I determined to 

 keep up the excitement, and fired a second shot, which 

 elicited an unexpected roar. I had shot him ! but the 

 distance was over eighty yards. He made right away 

 for the Colonel, taking ' the hill about fifty yards from 

 him. I kept my ground, expecting the Colonel's shot 

 would turn him," but he kept on steadily up the hill, the 

 Colonel peppering him as he went. * It was too rough 

 ground for the elephants, and motioning S. to join us, I 

 made for the Colonel, who claimed a hit ; both his 

 mahount and shikaree testified that the tiger went up the 

 hill on three legs. As soon as S. came up, we dis- 

 mounted, and arming the shikarees, set out on foot, and 

 after a little search were rewarded with a sight of blood. 

 It was in scanty measure and we had great difficulty in 

 tracking it ; and after two hours, in which we had' not 

 advanced more than a mile, we reluctantly gave up the 

 chase. 



Returning, we went up a steerj, dry water course, 

 flanked by pretty steep hills rising about 200ft. on either 

 side of us, and, chatting as we went, with our eyes 

 straight before us, were not a little startled by a whis- 

 pered "Sahib!" from one of the shikarees, and following 

 his eye, beho'd! on the crest of the hill to our left, keep- 

 ing pace with us and watching oui' movements, was a 

 tiger, evidently taking a philosophic interest in us. The 

 instant we paused he turned toward us, and, sitting on 

 his haunches, challenged us to a pot shot. ' 'Steady," said 

 the Colonel, flushed with excitement, "and all together." 

 I sat down with my back against the hill for a steady pot 

 (for a tiger has no great breadth of beam), and sighting 

 him close to the ground, commenced to rise slowly, until 

 at the word "Fire!" half a . dozen barrels belched out their 

 contents. There was no roar, but there was a display of 

 very considerable activity on the part of the tiger. He 

 gave a spring back, and left me with the impression that 

 it ended in a roll over; one of the shikarees, too, declared 

 that he saw him fall behind the crest. It w as rather a 

 steep hill to breast, but by advancing another hundred 

 yards or so up the ravine we were able to execute a zig- 

 zag, and soon reached the crest. There was no tiger, but 

 on reaching the spot from which he had surveyed us, 

 blood was sighted, and some 10ft. behind it there were 

 signs of a liberal flow, not in drops, but in mass, showing 

 that he had rolled over. There was no difficulty in track- 

 ing him down the hill, and as we neared the raviae all 

 sighted him simultaneously lying on his side and gnashing 

 his teeth. He made a vain effort to rise, and weapons 

 were leveled, but the effort was so evidently vain that I 

 called out to spare the skin, I was very sine I had hit 

 the game, and I Avanted to determine who else had, 

 which would have been impossible if she — for it was a 

 tigress — had been riddled with another volley. There 

 was no possibility of getting the elephants in, the beast 

 would have to be skinned where she lay, and after a little 

 discussion S., to save time, advanced to within 5yds. and 

 gave her a quietus. 



Lighting our pipes we sat down for five minutes to let 

 the claws get rigid, and then turned her over to examine 

 the wounds. There was one express shell in the abdo- 

 men which must have disturbed her internal economy 

 very considerably, and would have proved fatal, but it 

 would not have stopped her at such easy distance; the 

 business had been settled by a ball a little on one side in 

 the throat which, from the profusion of blood, appeared 

 to have cut the jugular. A third shot had cut through 

 the muscles of the forearm without injuring the bone, 

 the other three shots had missed. As regarded the ab- 

 dominal shot, credit for it lay between the Colonel and 

 S., who had both used a 4-50 express and fired shell. The 

 neck wound was caused by a solid ball, and I told the 



shikarees to cut it out. After some search we found a 

 sapling which would serve to sling the skin on, a chu- 

 prassee's "cookrie" (hunting knife) severed it at a few 

 strokes, and in less than an hour the skin had been taken 

 off, my ten-bore spherical ball extracted from its lodg- 

 ment against a neck vertebra, and the party was on its 

 march to join the elephants. 



It was now long past noon and the sun pretty strong, 

 the tramp over the hills had heated us and it was a long- 

 step to the next cover; after a little discussion it was de- 

 cided to go back to camp, try to get a hog deer at a piece 

 of nice cover at the mouth of the valley, which we had 

 not paped through, go home to a comfortable tiffin, and 

 wind up the week with mahseer fishing. Making straight 

 for the cover we put up a stag and two hinds, the former 

 of which fell to the Colonel's" rifle. S. and I fired simul- 

 taneously at a boar, and succeeded in stopping him. The 

 stag was lashed into his place, the boar had his throat 

 cut and was left for Ram Buksh and his friends to bring 

 in. We seated ourselves once more in position for home, 

 when out sprang a tiger not fifty yards from us; before 

 weapons could be brought to the level he had put a clump 

 of grass between hiinself and nr.. We pressed forward, 

 but only in time to catch a glimpse of him for a moment 

 as he dashed up the hill, adding one more to the list of 

 tigers lost by turning up when they are least expected. 



Shikaree. 



RANDOM NOTES FROM CALIFORNIA. 



O ACRAMENTO, August 7, 1887.— There is that inde- 

 k3 scribable something in the atmosphere— at least in 

 the atmoshpere of Central California— which tells the 

 sportsman that the days of falling leaves are not far off ; 

 the glorious season of autumn, which calls him to the 

 hills. We have felt it for the past week, and a glance at 

 the calendar tells us that our senses have not misled us. 

 Soon the grain fields will be cleared of then- piles of gold- 

 en wheat, and the stubbles will, ere four weeks hence, be 

 taken possession of by the grand goose army which is now 

 gathering its forces and selecting its flock-leaders in the 

 far north. The home-bred ducks are skimming over the 

 marshes at nightfall, and many of the young quail are 

 already as large as their parents. Here in this glorious 

 climate of ours, the sportsman is favored with long sea- 

 sons. In just four weeks our quail (grouse) season opens 

 and will continue until the 1st day of March next. Just 

 think of it, six months, lacking ten days, in which men 

 may enjoy themselves afield, to say nothing of the deer 

 shooting from June to December, and dove shooting from 

 May until January. Snipe and ducks have no protection, 

 but shooters generally spare them in the breeding season. 

 Of course, after the long, dry summer in the valleys there 

 will not be much pleasure in hunting the quail before the 

 middle of October, as the ground will be too dry to enable 

 the dogs to do good work. But then we are liable to 

 have some rain in September, and if Ave do the sport win 

 begin almost before the water dries on the leaves. 



From all accounts the quail have bred well this season. 

 There seems to be plenty of them in every direction, and 

 those who have enough spirit and energy to engage in 

 this kind of sport will find all of it that he can attend to. 



Just now the mountains are full of campers from the 

 plains and the cities by the sea, and wonderful are the 

 tales sent to the local newspapers of desperate encounters 

 with bears, and of the number of deer slain daily. Un- 

 fortunately, there is too much truth in the latter. Deer 

 are killed by the score, just out of that sheer wantonness 

 that some individuals dignify by the name of sport. 

 Three or four young men, whom one deer would supply 

 with meat for a week, frequently kill twenty or thirty in 

 that time, and of course they can only leave them as food 

 for the buzzards. Were it not that there are some por- 

 tions of our mountains where the average city spoilsman 

 cannot — for lack of experience in woodcraft— penetrate, 

 it would not take many years, at the rate at which the 

 deer are being killed, to practically exterminate them. 



We of this portion of California — the central and 

 northern sections — are anticipating one of those "booms" 

 that Eastern people have been inaugurating in the West, 

 and which has been sweeping over the southern counties 

 of this State for the past two or three years. Here we 

 ha ve as fine a climate as any part of the globe, and here 

 nature has been far more lavish of her favors than down 

 along the southern coast. Instead of dry, arid wastes, 

 where water must be brought long distances at great ex- 

 pense, here are rich meadow T s and fertile valleys inter- 

 spersed everywhere with natural water courses. Here 

 the orange, and lemon, and olive grow to perfection, and 

 ripen two months earlier than in Los Angeles, and it is 

 here that all the deciduous fruits — the pears, peaches, 

 nectarines, grapes, apricots, etc. — which you New Yorkers 

 purchase every day at your fruit stands, are grown. 



Southern California cannot grow cereals nor the kinds 

 of fruit above mentioned (except grapes) to any extent. 

 Oranges alone are the chief product there. In my yard, 

 in this city I could show you to-day, hanging from the 

 trees over the sidewalk, young oranges as big as good- 

 sized peaches, and the trees were only put out two seasons 

 ago from the nursery. The finest lemons I ever used 

 were plucked from my own three-year-old trees last win- 

 ter. And these fruits will be fit for eating next Novem- 

 ber, while the earlier citrus fruits of the southern counties 

 will not be marketed until February and March. But 

 Eastern capital is doing wonders down there in the build- 

 ing of railroads and hotels, establishing water enterprises, 

 banks, etc., while barren lots just big enough to squat 

 upon are bringing fabulous prices. If new people, foreign 

 capital and Yankee energy can do so much in the old 

 sleepy Spanish town of Los Angeles, what will they not 

 do when turned loose in this favored section? 



To go back to my original topic — I have seen the ques- 

 tion often asked if quail will breed in confinement. 

 Some quail certainly will. My next-door neighbor, 

 General Cosby, secured a pair of Arizona quail last 

 spring from a poultry dealer, who had received a thou- 

 sand from Arizona and was selling them alive for table 

 purposes. The pah were put in a wire cage about six 

 feet long, three feet high and two feet deep. The hen at 

 once made a nest in one corner, and though daily and 

 hourly annoyed by the General's pointer dog she went to 

 work, laid her eggs and hatched out eighteen little beau- 

 ties. Some of them got through the meshes of the wire 

 and were lost, but the others are now nearly grown. On 

 the Fourth of July the children dropped a firecracker on 

 the cloth roof of the cage and burned a hole therein, and 

 the old birds got out. They were seen to fly over the 

 neighboring houses, and it was supposed that ?vas the 



