Sept. 15, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM 



148 



THE NEW YORK GAME LAW. 



Editor Forest and Stream : 



A communication is noticed in a neighboring sporting 

 paper inquiring for some lawyer to codifiy the game laws 

 so as to make them consistent and efficient, etc. 



Now if there he any such, who can arrange, and get 

 such law passed, he ought to come to the front at once. 

 The assertion is ventured that none such exists. Several 

 capable lawyers well versed in the game laws, and good 

 sportsmen as well, have given their best efforts to write a 

 better than the present law, only to acknowledge signal 

 failure when their efforts were put under criticism. It 

 has been tried by different ones at different times in the 

 last six years, with the same result. True, some of the 

 inconsistencies may be taken out of existing laws to make 

 it good, but the men are scarce who know it all in respect 

 to each species or locality. 



But writing game laws and passing them are widely 

 different matters. When a wise and prudent law is pre- 

 sented, then the difficulties at once begin, and it is beset 

 ■with all sorts of ideas, is attacked in all sorts of modes, 

 and with all sorts of motive. There are several leading 

 interests that at once clash with all best of efforts, and 

 work to undermine the best of laws. 



First — The market men oppose all restraint upon trade 

 in fish and game- 

 Second— The summer resorts striving for all the ex- 

 treme delicacies to draw patronage. 



Third— The pot-hunters who supply their demands want 

 loose laws to be violated with impunity, while others 

 abide them. 



Fourth — The clever and obliging legislator, often giddy 

 with the dignity of his office and duty to his constituency, 

 who knows little and cares less about game or game laws. 



Against all these is a large public sentiment honestly 

 desiring game preservation and protection by honest, con- 

 sistent and prudent laws. The latter rely upon common 

 sense and merit for success, But they fail of being 

 heeded at Albany in the persistent tumult, bluster and 

 clamor of the others. The clown legislator listens to all 

 sorts of buncombe and becomes bewildered because he 

 knows little or nothing about the subject, and is led by 

 others whom he thinks, or who claim, to know it all. 



It is reported that Mr. Hadley of Franklin county is 

 now engaged upon a new game law for the coming ses- 

 sion. For two years he has been chairman of Assembly 

 Committee on Game Laws. He has procured a renomina- 

 tion and expects to be re-elected. It is also understood 

 that if Mr. Busted is returned and made speaker, and if 

 Mr. Hadley is re-elected, he is to be again made chairman 

 of game laws with his new bill to the front seat. 



If future prospects may be judged by what has hap- 

 pened to the game laws during two years, a tall sample 

 may be expected. It is true the 6in. trout law which he 

 repealed in 1886 was restored last winter, but it was due 

 to other efforts than his. It was well nigh lost by man- 

 agement in his committee. What his new law will be 

 let those conjecture who can. It is reported that one 

 feature of it is to be a "bureau of protectors," with him- 

 self at the head of it. It may be asked what kind of pro- 

 tection may be expected, and whether the whole State 

 may expect a fish and game protection similar to that of 

 Franklin county for the last few years. Sportsmen may 

 be interested in finding it out if they can before their first 

 knowledge finds it on the statute books. 



There is only one way to obtain a better law than now. 

 and that is by having as chairman of the game committee 

 a man that fully understands the uses and abuses of the 

 subject; can discriminate between wise suggestions and 

 buncombe, and is firmly honest toward the public. There 

 are several such outside the Legislature. Obitor. 



A DAY WITH THE QUAIL. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



When I read of the exploits of my fellow craftsmen I 

 can see them in my mind's eye sitting round the blazing 

 camp-fire, rehearsing the extra care they took in vainly 

 trying to land the largest trout in the stream, or with 

 swift footsteps following through the day till the shadows 

 of night came on the largest deer that roams the forest. 

 I have been there myself and know all the pleasures of 

 the camp, having tented or "shantied" some forty times. 

 As I read of these trips from time to time my mind goes 

 back and memory is filled with the happy hours I have 

 passed in the field and by the swift mountain stream. 

 Often the question comes to me when I read of these 

 things, Can I record my experience on paper so that those 

 that read it can see it and feel it as I do? If so, then my 

 object will be gained; if not, then the narrative of this one 

 of those happy days will be lost. 



I went to the city of Mt. V. to five, and among the 

 many friends I made was Al B., the sheriff of K. county. 

 His duty often called him to the country, I would be in- 

 vited to go with him, and I usually found his dog and 

 gun under the seat of the buggy as his companions. TJp 

 to this time I had always used a rifle, looking upon a 

 shotgun as only fit to scare the crows from the cornfield 

 with; but after a few trips I began to feel a conviction 

 that I was wrong, and at last became converted. Since 

 that time till to-day I have kept my dog and gun. 



After securing my first shotgun the question arose, 

 Could I ever hit that mass of shining feathers. I had 

 grave and curious doubts. One day shortly after my pur- 

 chase Al drove up and asked me to go out with him; he 

 said he only wanted one bird for a lady who was sick. 

 When we got to the field a meadow lark flew up. I 

 wounded it, and the next shot killed it. Al says, "That 

 is good enough. You can shoot as well as I can." And I 

 found by obeying his rule of holding ahead on cross shots 

 that I have been very successful. 



The grand national day of turky and thanksgiving was 

 drawing nigh and we proposed a day of sport. The day 

 broke cold and sharp, but with no snow on the ground. 

 Four of us with two dogs and two boys to carry the game 

 and see to the team, started for a farmhouse some three 

 miles from town, where arrangements had been made 

 for dinner. The sun came out and helped cheer us on 

 our way. When within a mile of the place we got out 

 and sent the team ahead to the farm. Al and myself 

 went over the hills to the right, while our friends took 

 the valley along the Kokasin. We had hardly got out of 

 sight, when from the valley an almost continuous firing 

 was heard and kept up. I urged him to retrace our steps, 

 for as yet we had found nothing after working for over 

 an hom. My old friend says, "Don't worry, we will be 

 there for dinner." We passed through a field and mounted 



a fence, and while sitting there the dog as he came tip 

 flushed a bevy, but we being on the fence did not get a 

 shot. They flew wild and passed over a hill and we lost 

 sight of them, but after half an horn- found them and 

 the first fire brought four to bag. We followed them till 

 we seemed eighteen, and from that time on our sport 

 was royal. On our way to dinner the dog made a point 

 and four birds flew up at once and we brought three at 

 the first fire. 



When we got to the house a bright fire in an old-fash- 

 ioned fireplace awaited us and a pitcher of cider for our 

 comfort. All being strongly temperate would not taste 

 it, but I thought it very fine. We laid out our birds on 

 the desk and window sill and smoothed the feathers out 

 nicely and found our count was forty-six quail, four 

 squirrels, one rabbit and one hawk. 



Our companions had passed the house, and we could 

 hear them firing some way up the stream. A conch shell 

 was brought into requisition and at last the hungry crowd 

 came together. We met them at the gate with the usual 

 inquiry, "Where is your game ?" One said in the house, 

 (we had seen none) ; the other showed us two in his game 

 bag. "Where is yours ?" they asked. "Oh, in the house." 

 When we came to go in they brought out four more. 

 But you should have seen their eyes when they saw our 

 " lay-out." They declared they would not shoot again, 

 and they kept their word. We sent the team ahead, and 

 after dinner went to the field again , and did not stop till 

 it was so dark one could see a stream of fire at least a foot 

 long streaming out of our guns at each shot. We were 

 obliged to dip our guns in the stream to cool them occa- 

 sionally. The birds would fly seemingly from under our 

 feet. With light hearts and weary feet we arrived at 

 home, and dividing o\ir game equally we found Al and I 

 had killed 76 quail, but had not added to our other 

 game, as we had left the woods after dinner. I have not 

 seen my old friend for some time. He is one of God's 

 noblemen, with a heart large enough for all his friends, 

 and a laugh that does one good to hear. Gill. 



SHOOTING NOTES. 



STRAWS show which way the wind is going to blow, 

 and there are many signs that indicate that we are 

 to have an early autumn. The unprecedented flight of 

 English snipe to the inland marshes of New Jersey in the 

 middle of August was one of these pointers : then the 

 pears ripened in this vicinity fully three weeks earlier 

 than usual ; while the grass plover, who came in large 

 numbers from their northern breeding haunts, tarried 

 with us but a very brief time. 



Just prior to the rainfall of this week, there was an 

 immense migration of all kinds of birds from northern 

 climes. The robins appeared on Staten Island in great 

 flocks on Monday last, while from Thursday until Satur- 

 day, of the past week, black ducks, coots and teal strung 

 along down the Jersey coast in vast quantities. All these 

 things predict an early fall, and woodcock may be ex- 

 pected to come along on the next moon. As the swamps 

 are in good order, the shooting this season shoiddbe much 

 better than usual. 



Speaking of English snipe, there has been very fine 

 shooting at them in Delaware and Maryland this month. 

 Below Cambridge, in the last named State, big bags have 

 been made by several Baltimorians. Report says that 182 

 were killed by two New Yorkers on Thursday and Friday 

 of last week. Fourteen months of drought in the West ' 

 has evidently had much to do in sending the birds this 

 way. 



Sam Camp, of Mauricetown, Cumberland county, N. J. , 

 writes me that there are plenty of sora and Virginia rail 

 on the meadows along Maurice River, but as yet the tides 

 have been running too low to get at the birds, which have 

 congregated on the high islands. The tides at this place 

 served during the afternoon from Sept. 5 to 11. Next 

 week they will again be propitious. For the information 

 of those who intend going to this locality, I append a 

 table of tides which is about correct: High water, Sept. 

 15, 8:30 A. M.; 16th, 9:15 A. M.: 17th, 10 A. M.; 18th, 

 10:45 A. M.; 19th, 11:30 A.M.; 20th, 12:15 P. M.; 21st, IP. M.; 

 22d, 1:45 P. M; 23d, 2:30 P. M. ; 24th, 3:15 P. M. Thetidesat 

 Mauricetown are about 45 minutes later every day. The 

 end of next week, therefore, and the beginning of the 

 week after may be looked upon as a good time to go to 

 the Maurice River, yet the shooting is best after the reeds 

 are broken down, and when southeast winds drive the 

 water into the mouth of the Delaware River. 



A number of Philadelphia pot-hunters have been mak- 

 ing themselves very objectionable to the farmers in South 

 Jersey, especially in Cape May county. They swarm 

 there at this season and make the lives of the land owners 

 a burden. Some of the farmers have become prematurely 

 old. The other day the wife of one of them who was 

 watching her better half keep yanking with fearful 

 grimaces the white hairs out of his head she said: "John, 

 don't you know that f er every gray hair yer pull out o' 

 yer head six will come tu th' funeral?" "I don't care if 

 they will only come in mourning," was his reply. They 

 say a protective society is to be formed for the purpose of 

 keeping the gunners off the land, and shooting at any- 

 thing that runs or flies. 



In Green county, in this State, partridges have been 

 killed in despite of the dense foliage of the rhododendron 

 swamps in goodly numbers. The buds are well grown. 

 They are found feeding on the wild grapes, and many a 

 bird is potted while rustling in vines. 



The quail outlook in the Indian Territory is very favor- 

 able. Eastern sportsmen seldom get there, but when they 

 do they always return for a second shoot. There is no 

 section in this country so well supplied with game of all 

 kinds as "the Nation" at the present time. 



The Wise Acre. 



New York, Sept. 13. 



Rail in Connecticut. — "Never was so few birds," is 

 what all the old shovers on the Connecticut rail grounds 

 have been repeating for the last three or four weeks. 

 None of the northern birds seem to have come, and it 

 looks as if those that had bred with us had all been 

 drowned. A careful survey of the Essex meadows the 

 first week in September failed to show a bird. The 

 Housatonic meadows are equally barren, and so are those 

 at North Haven. The prospects for rail are slim. When 

 the birds do come they will come all together, and there 

 may be good shooting for a few days if the tides are 

 right. — Alteo (New Haven, Sept. 10). 



QUAIL AND GUN SPOTS. 



THE prospects for an abundant supply of Bob White 

 are excellent. Owing to heavy rains a few weeks 

 ago and the consequent floods in the streams, there is no 

 doubt that some of the young coveys were destroyed. 

 But in the hills and on the smaller streams that trouble 

 did not come. Many coveys are now nearly grown. 

 About ten days ago I saw two as I was traveling along 

 the highway which flew with vigor. 



Some correspondent, writing from Tennessee, indicates 

 that the old muzzleloading guns were made elf better 

 material than the breechloaders. He says that they did 

 not spot so badly on the inside. Is he sure of that? Per- 

 haps the trouble is that he can not see the interior of a 

 barrel closed at one end quite so clearly as he can one 

 which is open at both ends. If he will plug up the breech 

 end of a modern grin it will look quite as well as any 

 muzzleloader. Besides this some of the old guns — made 

 even seventy-five years ago — have not been shot on an 

 average one hundred times a year. Breechloaders are 

 shot more frequently. The fact is. any gun will rust if it 

 is not cared for, and no attention possible will keep them 

 entirely free from spots. There is a difference, however, 

 and a great one, owing, no doubt, to the quality of the 

 metal. I have a high grade gun with an extra set of 

 barrels; one pair is Damascus and the other laminated 

 steel. The Damascus barrels have been shot a thousand 

 times and it requires close looking to see a spot. The 

 other pair has not been shot more than two hundred 

 times. It is easy to see spots in them, and the same care 

 has been observed. The left barrel is far worse than the 

 right. The metal of one must be purer than that of the 

 other. 



But I think there is something in what Birdo writes. 

 Flaws were not so common in twist barrel guns made 

 thirty to forty years ago as they are now, even in high 

 grade guns. 



In a short article of mine, printed May 26, your printer 

 makes me attribute the "Noctes AmbrosianEn" to Prof. 

 Wilcox. My chirography is a hard one to read — so it is 

 said — but I surely wrote Prof. Wilson. He was called 

 "the Wizard of the North," but Prof. Wilcox is a gentle- 

 man of whom I know nothing at all. I fear your readers 

 supposed me to be little familiar with the writings of an 

 author to whom I referred. They may be right — but I 

 knew his name was Wilson. Wells. 



Rockingham, N. 0. 



There is a man in this town who has I think killed as 

 many birds in the county as any other man for the past 

 fifteen years, and he has shot the same muzzle-loading 

 gun all that time, and I very much doubt if it has been 

 cleaned fifteen times in the fifteen years. I have repeat- 

 edly seen him cut a small twig to push the paper wad 

 home as he could not get a cut wad down. I have used 

 guns for over twenty years, muzzle and breechloaders, 

 and |I have used kerosene, naphtha and water, and it 

 makes little difference which you use if you only get off 

 the lead and burnt powder from the inside of the barrels 

 and then use plenty of " elbow oil " and dry rags, cotton 

 in preference to woolen, until the cloth comes out as 

 clean and dry as when it entered the barrel. During the 

 shooting season I never oil the inside of my barrels, as I 

 am sure I can not get as good pattern as without it, but 

 when I put them away at the close of the season I oil 

 with good sperm oil and cork the barrels tight, and have 

 had no trouble as yet with scale. I buy as good sperm oil 

 as I can get and fill the bottle half full of calcined mag- 

 nesia; it takes out all the impurities, leaving the clear oil 

 on top. I think the principal trouble is that the barrels 

 are not thoroughly dried before they are oiled, and in 

 some cases the oil is not pure, O. S. 



Fairfield County, Conn. 



BEARS AND BEAR KILLING. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I always looked upon bears as enemies of civilization. 

 We, I and others, destroyed them by whatever means we 

 could employ to do so. We canvassed all our resourses to 

 circumvent their cunning, and that they are possessed of 

 a large degree of cunning no one who has hunted them 

 will deny. When a boy of sixteen years, in 1844 and '45, 

 I spent a year at the mouth of the Arkansas River. The 

 country thereabout, at that early period, was almost a 

 terra incognita, and game, deer, turkeys, ducks, etc., 

 were abundant. Our stock, hogs especially, suffered from 

 the inroads made by the bears. Our members from 

 Africa put out spring-guns at the crossings where the 

 bears came from the canebrakes to the cornfields, and 

 also set traps for them in the vicinity of the "quarters." 

 We didn't want the meat, we didn't want the sport, but 

 we did. want to kill the pesky, cowardly bears. Our 

 members from Africa took great pleasure in finding a 

 good fat b'ar in a trap or killed by a spring-gun, and they 

 were sure to get a five dollar gold piece for each and 

 every bear they killed. We never considered them game 

 and did not hunt them as such. They are a mean, sneak- 

 ing, cowardly animal, and always will "squeal" when 

 hurt. There is no game in them, and the sooner the race 

 is exterminated the better for all who live in the vicinity. 

 I think any person who manifests sympathy for a bear in 

 a trap should be sent to some locality where he would get 

 all the bears he wanted and he would soon be convinced 

 that his notions of kindness to bears were mistaken. 



E. S. Y. 



Baltimore, Md., Sept. 9. 



A Large Beae Score.— On invitation I accompanied 

 my friend Irving to his bear trap. We followed a blazed 

 line, and when we neared the vicinity of the trap silence 

 was enjoined. We moved cautiously forward but found 

 the place vacant. So far as bears were concerned, I was 

 surprised at not seeing anything in the shape of a trap 

 except a piece of a horse, which was fastened to a stump. 

 This was flanked on the sides by spruce boughs, leaving 

 an opening in front. A bear after stepping over the stick 

 would find himself in the clutches of a 401b. trap, which 

 lay covered by soft moss. About a fortnight ago a bear 

 had been caught in this trap. Irving pointed out the 

 path he took with the dog, and the spot where the bear 

 "hung up" and was shot. Sitting on a log T listened for 

 some time while Irving related stories of bears which his 

 father and grandfather had caught. His grandfather, 

 Uncle John Sprague, 77 years old, has a record of 150 

 bears to date.— W. H. W. (South Presquelsle, Maine). 



