July 28, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM, 



told by a friend in whom I have confidence that be saw 

 one not far from here this spring. It was of the common 

 sort. Kelpie. 

 Central Lake, Mich., July 13. 



DEER HUNTING IN PIKE. 



NOT a great many years ago Pike county in Pennsyl- 

 vania was terra incognita to even New York sports- 

 men. The writer had often heard of the abundance of 

 game, both feathered and furred, but nevertheless felt 

 that he was rather rash, when on a certain day he in- 

 vited a stock brokering friend to go deer hunting. 



After much dubitation and assertion of the impossibil- 

 ity of finding a wild deer so near New York, the invita- 

 tion was accepted and we left by the Erie 4:30 train for 

 Port Jervis. There, however, we were at fault. The 

 person to whom the writer bore an introduction was not 

 to be found, and not until after ten o'clock could a man 

 and team be procured to take us, first in search of Ar- 

 chie Brink in Milford, and then to Shohola Falls. Found 

 he was, and under a bright November moon we crossed 

 the Delaware and bowled along over a wonderful road on 

 our first expedition. This road, by the way, made from 

 the crumbled stone of the bordering ridges, was as smooth 

 as those in Central Park, and did not much favor our 

 ideas of deer hunting, despite the glowing tales of the 

 driver. Fortunately there was a light in one of Milford's 

 taverns, and we were directed to Archie's cottage near 

 the spring. Although Archie has long since joined the 

 majority, the spring remains and doubtless continues to 

 wash the roots of the large beds of watercress as it did 

 then. This particularly struck us when, leaving the team 

 in the road, I went cross-lots to Archie's cottage. My 

 knock was answered by such a chorus of barks and growls 

 shat for a while nothing else coidd be heard. Soon, how- 

 ever, a voice inquired my name and errand. The first I 

 replied was of no consequence, but the second was to get 

 him to go with me to Shohola deer hunting in the morn- 

 ing. This being agreed to, I urged the unseen owner of 

 the voice to ride out with me, but this proposition was 

 deebned with the assurance, however, that he would be 

 at McCarthy's before I was up in the morning. Trusting 

 to this promise, I returned to the team, and in due time 

 waked up McCarthy, ordered breakfast before daybreak, 

 and turned in. 



Just as I got fairly asleep a tread on the porch under 

 my window and the whine of a dog woke me, and there, 

 sure enough, was Archie, with his friend Rosencrantz 

 and two hounds. It did not take long to rouse McCarthy 

 and start the breakfast, nor to take something with 

 Archie & Co. to keep out the chill. To rouse my broker 

 friend and get him into his clothes and prevent his audi- 

 bly damning the split-pea coffee, was something more 

 difficult; but when the daylight began to streak the 

 ridges, we were off. 



Of course you expect to hear that we plunged into some 

 ravine, climbed over broken rock and dead trees and trod 

 the moss with the noiseless step of the panther. That was 

 something like what I expected to do; but I didn't. On 

 the contrary, we four and the two dogs walked along a 

 fair smooth road for half a mile, until Archie suggested 

 making a drive on the right hand side. 



The tract selected was nearly oblong and not unlike an 

 avenue block in size, with a dip at the lower end and a 

 ridge beyond. Stationing my friend and self on runways, 

 Archie & Co. went round to and through the dip, and re- 

 turned to us at our stations without having struck a 

 scent. Again we promenaded, passing crossroads prac- 

 ticable for a buggy (the country round had been laid out 

 for a city), until the turnpike, bearing off to the right 

 from the top of a low ridge, allowed us to look down into 

 the hollow, with a fine farmhouse and buildings at the 

 upper end. On our side a crossroad ran along the top of 

 the ridge; and on this my friend and I were stationed, 

 while Archie & Co. went to begin the drive up by the 

 farmhouse. 



Luckily my Mend was away from me, and so could 

 not detect in my face my utter want of faith in the whole 

 proceeding. Left to my own thoughts, I cudgeled my 

 brain to invest an excuse for bringing him to hunt deer 

 where he would be much more likely to find calves. It 

 was utterly useless to try to get up a thrill, even of sus- 

 pense. It was absurd to think of such a thing as firing 

 a snap-shot from my rifle with the smoke from the farm 

 house! Hallo! what was that? Wow-wow (very long, if 

 you please), one of the hounds and then the other gave 

 tongue, and the blood flushed up and my rifle came to a 

 slope at the sound. Still I could not quite enthuse. Some 

 dogs will run a sheep, but then again sheep don't get over 

 ground as quickly as that baying indicated; and I began 

 again to get quite excited and kept close in my cover 

 —hoping — doubting— almost certain— when two quick 

 reports and a, shout told me that one act of the drama 

 was played. 



After waiting a due time and calling in my friend, 

 I found my way through the bush to the seat of action; 

 and there to my great relief found a splendid buck. 

 Archie had shot him and had already removed the 

 paunch. "Did I see the doe and yearling fawn?" "No, 

 I had not seen either doe or yearling fawn." Then they 

 had gone over the ridge to the pond; and I began to 

 believe that either my friend or I should yet do a deer to 

 death in this well laid out hunting ground. Alas! simple 

 causes produce unchangeable disappointments. Archie 

 and Rosencrantz had both carried soda bottles of turpen- 

 tine gin in their pockets; and while we laboriously bore 

 that buck from the hollow to the crossroad, the hounds 

 had their way with the paunch. When at last we 

 reached the road the bottles were empty and Archie and 

 Rosie were full. When, too, after much hallooing and 

 calling, only one hound staggered up to us. we learned 

 the intoxicating effect of a deer's paunch full of laurel 

 croppings in November. 



This ended our deer hunt, and our team having been 

 brought up, we loaded in the deer, dined (?) cheerfully at 

 McCarthy s, and at half past six the next morning, deer 

 and all, were back in the city of New York, after thirty- 

 eight hours absence. 



The tale is not exciting, but only absolutely true, and 

 the reader will pardon me if I do not attempt to repro- 

 duce Archie's account of the desperate struggle he had 

 with the buck. As he began by saying that he "let 

 loose" his buckshot barrel first, and as the deer's heart 

 had two holes in it made by buckshot, and as my day's 

 experience disposed me to incredulity I fear that I would 

 not hi turn claim much faith from my reader, I know 



that I Left him satisfied with me, and that for several 

 successive years I passed pleasant days in the fall at Sho- 

 hola, up the Rattlesnake and thereabouts. Of "Jerry 

 Greening" and his tribe I may have something to tell, for 

 Jerry has become in more senses than one a public char- 

 acter; but space is wanting now, and much space is re- 

 quired to do justice to such subjects. H. B. 

 Nkw York. 



CHAT OF GUN AND GAME. 



IT^YEN now as I write I hear the peculiar note of Bob 

 JJ White, as he sits upon the top of a fence or upon a 

 stump, and indicates to his mate that he has not forgotten 

 her, and is ready to do his part in providing for the 

 young which they have begun to rear. On the sides of 

 all the roads which I travel, in the fields and woods, 

 everywhere almost, there is evidence of the abundance 

 of young coveys, to whom hatching the past season has 

 been most propitious. All persons whom I have met con- 

 cur in the statement that the bird prospect was never 

 better. Unless some disaster bef als them before the season 

 opens, both sportsmen and dogs will have a joyous time 

 during November, December and January in ranging 

 over hill and valley, sedge and stubble, as well as along 

 the ditch banks, in the vicinity of which the field pea 

 was planted. If my health permits, I indulge the "pleas- 

 ing hope, the fond desire" of taking many a tramp in this 

 and other counties of the State, with my little gun and 

 my little dog, albeit the short-tailed Argo is, like his 

 master, "well stricken in years." What a wiry little fel- 

 low he is! With what untiring zest he courses over the 

 ground, and how grandly he stops when near the game 

 which he is seeking! What joy he exhibits when he sees 

 me, with my "court costume" on, and my gun in hand. 

 As I walk to the buggy , on my way he knows not exactly 

 where, but feels sure it is to some field which is the home 

 of the bird, whose odors are far sweeter to hint than 

 would be those of the famed "gardens of Eve in their 

 bloom!" he does not aneak lazily forward as if he was 

 under mortal dread of the lash, "like a galley slave," but 

 bounds freely on ahead of me, watching closely every 

 foot of the road to see which one I take. He does not 

 get lost. If, perchance, as I travel along he searches 

 some field and finds a covey of birds, he does not stay or 

 point all day, to my great annoyance, breaking up the 

 hunt, but after remaining a few minutes he flushes the 

 birds and comes on. Does not this style of movement 

 tire him? Perhaps it does, but he can circle around me 

 while I travel twenty miles, and then make an after- 

 noon's hunt without flagging. But then he has no known 

 pedigree. None of his ancestors, as far as I know, ever 

 had then names recorded in the books which are remem- 

 brancers of the royal family. And yet, old as he is, I do 

 not hesitate to say that he can run the bfe out of four- 

 fifths of the field trial gentry. Oh, he is a gamy little 

 fellow, and hunts, not because I want him to do it, but 

 because he loves the recreation. My friend G. T. L., who 

 who can be found during the business season at No. 90 

 Hudson street, New York, knows Argo, and will say that 

 I have not overdrawn the picture. But enough of tha 

 diminutive plebeian at present. 



Now, a few words about my gun. Some of my friends 

 say that I am a little cranky, or monomaniacal on that 

 subject. Possibly they are right. I can't help it. But 

 the gun is a gem, in its fine. It was made according to 

 my own directions, and the manufacturer thought I was 

 a crank, because I had such extraordinary notions. But 

 he was told that the man who gave the order thought he 

 knew what he was doing: and , as the gun was for his own 

 use, it would be wise to follow the directions with faith- 

 ful exactness. It was done. The description is this : 

 Weight Qi to 6f lbs. , bore 14, cylinder, length of barrels 

 28in., length of stock 13£, 13|, 14f drop, 3-l at heel, 2 at 

 comb. It will be seen that the stock is unusually short. 

 In the summer, when the shooter at the trap is encum- 

 bered with but few clothes, he can use a gun with longer 

 stock. But in the field, when the thermometer is below 

 the freezing point, and the sportsman, consulting his per- 

 sonal comfort, covers himself with a quantity of woolen 

 garments, the distance is much less from his shoulder to 

 his finger, and he needs a corresponding reduction of the 

 length of stock. Not being much of a trap-shooter, I 

 had the gun made for the field. To enable me to do fairly 

 at long range, I had an extra pair of barrels made, which 

 are closely choked. With them, I can get a squirrel, out 

 of a very high tree, and have contested successfully with 

 ten and twelve bores at the trap. 



The little gun is a so-called hammerless, and the firing 

 arrangements are not of the Anson & Deeley patent. The 



fun has locks and firing-pins separate from the tumblers, 

 like them better. I have a gun where the tumbler is 

 elongated and acts on the striker; but I have had five miss- 

 fires with it with the Winchester and Lowell shells to 

 when I have had one with the other. It may be that the 

 mainsprings are not sufficiently strong. The shells were 

 of the highest grade, and good caps (are not the Union 

 primers No. 2 good ones?) do not require a heavy stroke 

 to explode them. Most of the mainsprings, as I think, 

 are needlessly strong. 



While on this subject, I may as well say that I have 

 tried Eley's, Lowell, Winchester andU. M. C. shells; and 

 although some of these makers represent that their pro- 

 ducts are "sure fire," I do not hesitate to assert that some 

 of them will not fire at all with any stroke which may be 

 made. I recall the fact that in one day's hunt I had 

 three missfires with shells reputed to be of the highest 

 grade, and my companion who was using the same size 

 tried them in his gun, the springs of which were uncom- 

 monly powerful, with failure as the result. Misled by 

 the boastful pretensions of another maker, and liking the 

 color of the shells, I was induced to get a thousand. 

 With them I have had frequent snaps. Then "I came 

 back to my first love," and shall continue to use the pro- 

 ducts of this maker or these makers until they debase the 

 character of their work. It is but just that I say it is 

 idle for any one to expect that all caps will explode and 

 all shells will fire. We may be well contented if ninety- 

 nine in a hundred meet our expectations. 



In this vicinity there were, within the last twenty 

 years, a large number of deer. Well do I recollect that 

 about 1870, an uncle of the writer and my old friend 

 Kinchen O, as well as quite a number of others, were on 

 a hunt on the headwaters of a stream called Rocky Fork, 

 with our headquarters in an old deserted dwelling,, used 

 at the time as a fodder house. From this point we had 

 easy access to the drives on the Rocky Fork of Naked 

 Creek (the other being the Rooky Fork of Hitchcock) on 



Paradise, on Job's Creek, and other places. By the kind- 

 ness of the owner of the property we had the use of the 

 fodder for our horses and for our bedding. One night 

 Tom S. of the party, who was supposed to have a weak- 

 ness for a black-eyed damsel in his neighborhood, whom 

 he afterward married, was afflicted with what Shakes- 

 peare calls, "the child of an idle brain, begot of nothing 

 aut vain fantasy." His groans aroused all the sleepers, 

 and so soon as they fully awoko, Tom was heard to cry 

 out, "Take care, Sally, that big snake will bite you. 

 And then with a stertorous snort lie was rebeved from 

 the dangers which an imagination, rendered acute by a 

 gorge upon strong coffee and venison steaks, had con- 

 jured up to blanch his soul with fear. How we did laugh 

 at him because of his dreamy confession of the tender 

 thoughts which warmed up his bosom, but whose exist- 

 ence he always denied when he was not in his "secure 

 mood." 



The two persons first named were as ardent sportsmen 

 as ever lived. They loved the forest and stream and 

 neither was selfish in his sports. Many a fine buck fell 

 before their guns, and baskets of fish were caught by 

 their hooks. They knew nothing of split bamboo rods 

 and reels, but they did know something of bobbing. Alas, 

 both have fallen, "like leaves in wintry weather," and 

 been wafted away to "the undiscovered country, from 

 whose bosom no traveler returns." Both were just men 

 and generous men, the delight of the social circle. They 

 "served their day and generation," for both were men of 

 excellent sense and superior business capacity, often hold- 

 ing positions of trust, the duties of which were always 

 faithfully performed. 



It was during that hunt— unless my memory is at fault 

 —that I killed the largest buck which ever fell at the dis- 

 charge of my gun. The weapon was a 12-bore muzzle- 

 loader, made by Wm, Moore— or rather it had such a 

 name upon it. The right barrel had in it twelve No, 1 

 buckshot, and the left twenty -five of No, 3. The two 

 gentlemen last named by me were on one side of the 

 Rocky Fork of Naked Creek and had with them two ex- 

 cellent hounds, which bore the names of Bob and Rock. 

 On my side I had as a companion and friend the Rev. 

 Bum Gostick, a reputable Baptist clergyman and a keen 

 sportsman. We bad not taken down the creek more than 

 one hundred yards before the melody of canine voices 

 was heard, "which thickened as the charge dreAv nigh." 

 Fearing that the deer would cross too far below me, I 

 quickened my pace into a* active a run as I could make, 

 with the view of intercepting it. Having done my 

 "speedy utmost," as the "gray mare Meg," in "Tarn 

 O'Shanter" was advised to when out of Kirk Alloway 

 "the hellish legion sallied," and gone over a space of 70 

 to 80yds., I saw the old "monarch of the waste" emerge 

 from the swamp on the bank of the creek, at a distance 

 which many hunters would have called 60yds. It was 

 from 85 to 40yds. on a "bee line." He gave me a broad- 

 side and the right barrel was discharged. I saw a shrug 

 of the body, which plainly indicated that my aim was 

 right and my gun had done its duty. He got nearer to 

 me, and when I was again ready, he was on the side of 

 the hill above me and not further than 30yds. My finger 

 pressed the trigger, the crack of the left barrel was clear 

 and sharp, and the buck dropped dead in his tracks. 

 When I got to him I saw that he had hundreds of large 

 ticks upon him, some of which were killed by my shot. 

 From the abundance of them I feared that the animal 

 was thin in flesh, and would make not very palatable 

 food. This apprehension was groundless, for be was un- 

 usually fat for a male deer at that season of the year. I 

 hit him with four shot with the first barrel and fifteen 

 with the second. He netted, after being dressed, freed 

 from head, hide, hoofs and entrails, 1501bs. He was a 

 fine buck. 



How hot it is I Thermometer up to 97 degrees. But 

 for a nice breeze from the west there would be no com- 

 fortable place in this vicinity, except a pool in the spring 

 house. As it is we manage to stand it. But the tempera- 

 ture is not very suggestive, except by contrast, of flannel 

 blouses, woolen undershirts and the usual apparel of a 

 sportsman during the season. But I have managed, since 

 I began this rambling communication, to read the Forest 

 and Stream and some few other sporting papers which 

 have fallen into my hands. These always interest me 

 though they sometimes contain matters which do not 

 command the approval of my judgment. Now and then 

 I see an original anecdote which I heard more than 

 twenty years ago. For instance: In one of these papers 

 I read a very attractive piece descriptive of a bear, wild- 

 cat and sow hunt in Texas. To a suggsstion made to a 

 metropolitan gentleman, who was one of the party, in 

 regard to the music of the hounds in full cry, that repre- 

 sentative of the famous ten miles square over on both 

 sides of the Potomac said, "I can't hear any music, those 

 blamed dogs make such a racket." Now that is old, and 

 the city gentleman must have been nearly bankrupt in 

 ideas to have been forced to gather up such garbage. 



The same communication contains the following: "This 

 reminds one of the story that Joaquin Miller got off on the 

 Senator from this district to the National Congress." 

 This was evidently written carelessly, for the writer of 

 the article is a man of no mean mtelligence. The State 

 of Texas has two Senators in Congress, but there are no 

 Senatorial Districts in that or any other State. The writer 

 in question has, no doubt, read the Constitution of the 

 United States, and knows that what I say is correct. If 

 he had said a Representative, I should not criticise, for I am 

 aware that there was once in Congress, from the South- 

 western District of Texas, a gentleman of large brain as 

 well as large person , a big man in many respects. He lived 

 at Cuero and died in the city of Washington during his 

 term as a Member of the House of Representatives. So 

 much for that. Wells. 



Rockingham, N, C, July, 1887. 



A Glass for Hunting.— Messrs. Queen & Co., No. 924 

 Chestnut street, Philadelphia, make a spy glass which is 

 adapted to the needs of sportsmen tourists. It is substan- 

 tial, compact and can be carried with comfort and safety. 

 The lenses are powerful, bringing distant objects into close 

 view in a manner positively startling. Such a glass would 

 be of great service in Western large game hunting, where 

 a wide territory can be examined and the game detected. 



Larue Elk Horns.— F. R. Kaldenberg, of 371 Broad- 

 way, New York, received from L. K. G. Smith, of Port- 

 land, Oregon, a pair of mounted elk horns. Each horn 

 measures 6ft. from the crown of the head to tha tip. 

 There are 13 prongs. 



