Nov. 10, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



305 



spectators stood quietly by and saw me about to be torn 

 in pieces. None of tbern imagined any more tban my- 

 self that there was any danger to me until after I had 

 landed on the reptile's back, and from then until I fired 

 the blue whistlers down his throat scarcely thirty seconds 

 elapsed. My friends reached me just as I fainted and 

 carried me out of reach of the alligator's dying struggles." 



In conclusion I would say that if your readers could 

 see as 1 have the frightful scar left on* P.'s body from the 

 wounds inflicted in his encouuter with the 'gator, I have 

 no doubt they would consider that he was justified in 

 considerably modifying liis estimate of an alligator's 

 character. Gtjadaetjpe. 



Victoria, Tex. 



235. 



A FRIEND of mine was telling of rare sport hunting in 

 Colorado. 



"One day I was working my way up the Platte, with 

 dog and gun, killing an occasional snipe and blue- winged 

 teal, when I discovered two fine large ducks, feeding 

 quietly near shore, some distance up stream and nearly 

 opposite a mill. I called my dog in, made a short detour 

 through a stubbborn thicket, came out in rather long 

 shooting distance, fired one barrel, and got them both. 

 They were beauties. Nice, tufted fellows, plump and 

 very pretty in feathery sheen. 



'•Two men over at the mill called out lustily, cheering 

 me at my good luck, it seemed; gesticulating and doubt- 

 less explaining to some one the capital shot"! had made. 

 The mill and the turbid river made a great noise, and of 

 course I could not hear what they said. I only saw that 

 they were very demonstrative and enthusiastic. 'Now, 

 that's nice,' I thought. 'I will go over and present the 

 ducks to them, and they will have a feast — ducks recently 

 in from the rice fields of tho South, rare ones, too, fat and 

 juicy, on their way to the Arctic regions; something that 

 people seldom get, and no doubt much superior to canvas- 

 backs or mallards, or any of the high-priced articles.' 



"You know true sportsmen are real generous with their 

 game, as free-handed as millionaires, a great deal more so 

 than common millionaires. They would much rather 

 give a large fish, or a nice mess of game, to friends, to 

 those who appreciate skill and opulent generosity than to 

 have it themselves. There's nothing mean in the com- 

 position of the genuine sportsman. 



"Well, I went way up the river to a fording place, and 

 returned, ducks in hand, to the mill, holding the ducks 

 up admiringly as I approached. 



" 'Those are. fancy ducks,' exclaimed one of the men, 

 not appearing hilarious, but quite in earnest. 



" 'Splendid,' I said, still holding them so that their 

 plump forms and iridescent hues would show well. 



" 'Yes; I gave two dollars apiece for them last week — 

 sent to St. Louis for them.' 



"I can tell you one thing," said my friend after a pen- 

 sive pause, "Such sudden changes are'nt good for a 

 person. To come down from the genial sunlight of ex- 

 ultation into the dark and grimy valley of humiliation in 

 one sad second, and come down hard, is trying on the 

 nerves, and suicide beckons you pleasantly into a region 

 of forgetfuluess." Jerome Burnett. 



'mnt mid 0utj. 



Aadresss all communications to the Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 



EXPERIENCE WITH THE BIRDS. 



DRIVING up I accosted the Domine, "Dan, I've been 

 all over the scene of your old exploits. That swamp 

 near Maston's house is turned into a noble bed of onions 

 and cabbages; the swamp where I used to keep a tame 

 woodcock to practice on is all in grass, and what with wet 

 weather and moulting and migration I cannot find a 

 woodcock. The game has nearly all gone. Bluejays 

 and robins hold carnival in all our shooting grounds, but 

 the shooting is played out. By-the-by, I met a chum of 

 mine the other day, and he had been coon hunting and 

 the coon tumbled out of the tree plump on his back, and 

 hung to him like grim death. He had work to shake him 

 off." 



"Clarence ketched one in a twitchup some years ago, 

 Captain, and a partridge in a trap baited for rabbits. Did 

 I ever tell you of my going coon hunting out back on the 

 farm? Silas had one of these old flintlock muskets, and off 

 we and the dogs started. It was a good night to go coon- 

 ing, and when we got out by the old cornfield the dogs 

 ran a coon and treed him up in an oid maple. Sile says, 

 'I see the critter;' and he tiled to get the old gun off, but 

 she sorter flashed, in the pan. 'Look a-here,' I says, 'give 

 me the gun.' So I took and primed her all O. K. 

 'Where's your coon?' 'Dp there in the forks of the tree.' 

 Sure enough I saw him, and he was an old settler. So I 

 says, 'Sile, you take this here match, and when I give the 

 word to fire, you just touch her off.' I pointed her. 

 'Ready, Sile; fire,' and he just touched her off. Down 

 come that old coon, the dogs pitched on to him, and you 

 bet there was a lively fight; but we got the coon. You 

 were down in Virginia after the war, weren't you?" 



"Yes, the Gov'nor sent for me, and told me I want you 

 to go down to Virginia! When? Right away. That was 

 as good as a marching order, and two days afterward I 

 was on my way down there to take charge of a plantation 

 of six hundred acres. The war had just closed; I had no 

 time to think of dog or gun. Parties meant business, and 

 there I was. I had hardly got down there before one day 

 walking round I came on a flock of quail. How the little 

 fellows did excite me. I said to the overseer of the quarry, 

 what have you got in the way of a gun, and he showed 

 me an old Harper's Ferry musket; looked like an old 

 friend. Kick's no name for it; when you drilled your 

 men with them at target exercise you could always* tell 

 whose guns went off, the men would spin round like a 

 top. For a dog I had a bull-terrier, Jack; he could throw 

 any cow on the place, and whip any dog within five 

 miles, and was a first-rate watch dog: but he wasn't much 

 on quail; he never had had much chance; there was no 

 knowing how he might improve though! I knew I could 

 depend on Jack making tall time round the thirty-acre 

 lot, but the gun had to be tried. I loaded that musket 

 very carefully with a charge of good strong blasting pow- 

 der, five fingers, no scant measurement. If she stood 

 that she would stand anything. I lashed the venerable 



relic, as I thought, securely to the top of an old gate, tied 

 a long, strong piece of twine to the trigger, cocked her, 

 lay down some ten yards off, and gave her a yank— Jack 

 watching the proceedings with the greatest gravity. Dan, 

 I wish you had been there to see the fun. With a mighty 

 roar and plunge, that jerked the string out of my hand in 

 a twinkling, cutting loose from her lashings with a 

 whistle like a Whitworth shell, that old gun went up sky- 

 ward end over end, heaven knows how high, up like a 

 rocket and down like a stick. Jack gave one fearful 

 howl and tore around as if the devil was after him. But 

 the old gun was made of good stuff, there was no doubt 

 about that, and I had no more fears of its bursting. I 

 rummaged around and found some caps and good-sized 

 shot, loaded up a second time scientifically, whistled for 

 Jack and set out. I had a jolly tramp round that thirty- 

 acre lot, and lugged the old fusil until I got tired. You 

 should have seen Jack quarter his ground, head and tail 

 up, at full speed , barking away. You would have thought 

 there was a pack of hounds out. By and by, slap, dash 

 he went through a bevy of quail. We all went off 

 together; I pulled on sight and faith. I have an indis- 

 tinct recollection of seeing a cloud of feathers float off as 

 I spun round in a way that made my head swim. I think 

 I blew one fellow into smithereens. That was the last I 

 saw of the quail. Jack afterward fell into bad company, 

 left quail for sheep, and paid the penalty therefor. 



"Your shooting the coon with a musket put me in mind 

 of the quail. But I tell you, old man, there was one 

 morning s shooting down there I often think over. There 

 were several old soldiers down there and my door stood 

 always open; glad enough was I to welcome them under 

 my roof and in peaceful contest talk over 'the wah.' 

 Many a merry time we had 'way down in ol' Virginny.' 

 I had a good double-barreled gun placed at my disposal, 

 and one morning out in the barnyard I saw a lot of 

 meadow larks flying around. So I walked back to the 

 house and held a grand consultation with ol' Aunt Dilsey, 

 the best cook in that part of the country. When she 

 found I was somewhat of a ' Vuginian we got along 

 famously. 'I was raised down heah by Massa Jack, sah; 

 I wasn't owned by no white trash, sah." Aunty was a 

 mighty aristocratic old darky with her red bandana. I 

 went up to the barn, loaded up and poked my gun through 

 a chink in the side. Never mind, Domine, I was out on 

 a lark. I let drive first one then t'other barrel, and I 

 knocked over five; after awhile I blazed away again and 

 so kept on until the birds got scarce, then I went out and 

 picked up fifteen fine fat plump birds, toted them down 

 to the house and handed them over to Aunt Dilsey. 

 Then I sent over to Colonel S. and invited him to come 

 over to my wigwam and have a lark, and I think he en- 

 joyed the feast as much as I did." 



•'Curious how those quail will hold their scent. How 

 do you account for it?" 



"Well, they certainly retain then: scent, Bogardus to 

 the contrary notwithstanding, I think. The birds gets 

 up and off like a flash, when he lights, he claps his wings 

 against his sides and shuts off the scent. Then the only 

 thing to do is to wait." 



"Ever call them up?" 



"Oh yes, but that's a rough way to kill them. I have 

 seen it done, but I don't hanker after shooting them. A 

 bird ought to have a chance for his fife." 



"You're right. Long ago I remember going out with 

 Mr. Si You recollect him. He was a great friend of 

 Mr. Frank Forrest's [Dan means Forester] ; he had a good 

 dog and was a good shot. We came onto a flock of quail, 

 and drove them into a bog swamp, and followed them 

 right up and found nary bird. I says to Mr. S., 'Hold on, 

 let's go out and sit down awhile.' So we did, called off 

 the dogs, and rested half an hour or more. Then we 

 started to go back, and the dogs came to a point before 

 we came to the swamp. Up got two quail, and I nailed 

 them both, and Mr. S. got his bird. We went on, and I 

 killed eight and Mr. S. got six, right in the swamp. Why, 

 in Cudney's Swamp once I was coming through with 

 your father, and we hadn't started nothing, and was a 

 walking along, out comes old Flash and walks up to me, 

 and looks me steadily in the face, then goes back into the 

 swamp and begins to bark. 'The old dog must mean 

 something, Domine,' and with that your father walks 

 back, goes in and finds the old dog on a point, clucks to 

 him, and up goes a woodcock, and your father kills him." 



Blackie's pawing the ground, impatient for his dinner, 

 so with a wave of my hand and a "Good day," I leave the 

 Domine and drive home. Capt. Clayton. 



A CHANCE AT THE ANTELOPE. 



SUSPENSION BRIDGE, N. Y.— For several years past 

 IO it has been my good fortune to spend two weeks 

 during the month of October with friends in Cass county, 

 Nebraska, where I have always found excellent quail and 

 chicken shooting, as well as some very good goose shoot- 

 ing. This season, being interested in a ranch up in the 

 White River Valley, near Fort Robinson, I determined to 

 try my luck among the antelope. I left Chicago over the 

 old reliable Chicago & Northwestern Oct. 11, changing 

 cars at Missouri Va'ley Junction for the Freemont, Elk- 

 horn & Missouri Valley Railway and arrived at Crawford , 

 Neb., Oct. 13. I was met at the depot by a hearty wel- 

 come from the smiling faces that have been absent for 

 many a year and drove out to the "little sod shanty on 

 the claim," where I remained for several days viewing 

 the wonders of nature and drinking in the sweet pure air 

 of northern Nebraska. 



I found jack rabbits and ducks fairly plenty, and man- 

 aged to amuse myself pleasantly for a few days, but' 

 where were the antelope? Only last season large bands 

 could be seen within a mile of the house, now not even so 

 much as a last year's track remained. So on Monday, 

 Oct. 17, three of us started with team for Sheep Creek, 

 Wyoming, distant about twenty-five miles. We took 

 with us a good canvas tent, covered wagon and the 

 necessaries for a ten days' stay. Charlie Smith, our 

 genial guide, perfectly familiar with the route, led the 

 way with the wagon, and I brought up the rear astride a 

 well-trained Indian pony. Our route took us up along 

 the White River valley to the head of White River, where 

 we struck the old Laramie trail. We had not gone a 

 hundred yards after striking this trail before I sighted 

 my first antelope, and had an opportunity of testing my 

 No. 3 long range Remington. It did its work finely at 

 350yds., and we secured a fine, fat doe without a loss of 

 twenty minutes of time. 



We camped that night near an extensive cattle ranch, 



known as No. 33 Ranch, and on the following day re- 

 sumed our journey. When about ten miles south of the 

 ranch we began to see plenty of antelope, and although 

 they were very shy and hard to approach, we secured 

 enough to gratify our ambition and keep us in fresh meat 

 for some time. We were informed by some gentlemen 

 at Sheep Creek that there were plenty of blacktail deer 

 and quite a number of elk in the sand hills, ten miles 

 from our camp, but as we were antelope hunting we did 

 not go into the hills; and after spending a few days witfi 

 the antelope we headed for home. 



The morning we broke camp I sat on my pony and saw 

 within a radius of one mile three large bands of antelope 

 quietly feeding in the valley. It was a very pretty sight 

 and one long to be remembered. Our trip was a very 

 enjoyable one. I brought home several fine antelope 

 heads which are being mounted and will soon ornament 

 my office. Smith and Frank did the cooking; they are 

 both good cooks, but season a little too high with sand 

 for my taste, though imder their care I find I gained 

 about one pound a day, and I am sure I came home feel- 

 ing well repaid for my trip and in better condition to 

 cope with the trials of business for another year. 



C. E. Lewis. 



PARK NOTES. 



YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK, Nov. 4.— Editor 

 Forest and Stream: The affairs in the Park have 

 settled down to their winter quiet. The last tourists for 

 the year (two Swedish army officers) have left for Chi- 

 cago. During the latter part of October we were visited 

 by a cold wave, which ended in one very cold night for 

 this time of the year, when the thermometer at the Mam- 

 moth Hot Springs registered 21 c below zero. All the high 

 mountains and table lands in the Park are covered with 

 snow. The geyser basins and hot springs are compara- 

 tively free. The depth is not as great as it was last year 

 at this time, when it was about 20in. The snow and cold 

 snap started the game on their annual movement toward 

 then; winter range. A great many elk and blacktail deer 

 have been seen lately by parties on scouting trips. Moun- 

 tain sheep and antelope are seen on their usual winter 

 range. No buffalo have been seen very lately in the 

 Park. I hear it reported that a party of Englishmen 

 killed three while out with one of the Ray Brothers from 

 their ranch near Henry's Lake on a several weeks' hunt. 

 The buffalo were killed, they say , on Warm Spring Creek. 

 I hear of no recent violation of the game rules of the 

 Park since the arrest of Frank Chatfield, whose horse, 

 saddle and rifle were confiscated for his lulling an elk in 

 the southern part of the Park. 



All work on the wagon roads ceased on Oct. 15, when 

 the crews were paid off, the men leaving the Park to look 

 for work elsewhere. There has been built during the 

 summer 12f miles of new road, requiring the removal of 

 a vast amount of timber for the roadway, which was cut 

 30ft. wide, with road graded up 18ft. wide, with ditches 

 on each side. Six and one-half miles of road left uncom- 

 plete last season was finished. To make these roads 

 required the building of two single truss bridges of 30ft. 

 span each, across Obsidian Creek, 132 small bridges and 

 culverts from 16ft. span down to smaller culverts of 3in. 

 plank. The laying of 2,450ft. of corduroy 18ft. wide, 

 covered with 18in. of dirt and gravel. Besides the new 

 work done, repairs were made on the roads damaged by 

 the melting snows, timber cut out after every wind storm, 

 and 3,000ft. of saddle trail were made at the Grand Canon. 

 Lastly, all the unsightly, half burned log heaps, which 

 have defaced the formation at the Midway Geyser Basin, 

 were burned or removed. 



About 5,350 days' work for men and 1,960 for teams 

 were performed on the roads in the Park and §18,200 ex- 

 pended, about $6,200 of this sum was f or repairs, there re- 

 mains unexpended of the sum devoted to the Park §4,600 

 on which to resume work and repairs in the spring. The 

 whole work reflects credit on Captain Sears, the engineer 

 in charge, his superintendent and the workmen, who 

 were in camps throughout the season. Very few men 

 were injured, although several accidents happened, one 

 man's arm was broken by a falling tree. Several men 

 while asleep in their tents were shocked by lighnting 

 striking a tree under which their tents were pitched, 

 those felt the shock worse whose beds were Over where 

 the roots ran through the ground. A sack containing 

 giant powder was hanging in the tree at the time, the 

 sack was set on fire and some of the sticks of powder 

 were thrown 25ft. by the lightning, yet none exploded, 

 otherwise several of the men would have been killed. 



There is in the guard house at Camp Sheridan a man, 

 James, who is held as a prisoner awaiting the action of 

 the civil authorities; he is charged with being one of the 

 parties who robbed the passengers on the coach between 

 Gardiner and Hot Springs on night of the 4th of July, 

 when they obtained about $17 and a few trinkets. A 

 French gold coin led to his discovery as one of the "road 

 agents." The other party implicated has not be-n ar- 

 rested. What disposal will be made of the case it is im- 

 possible to tell, as there are no laws nor courts for the 



f government of the Park. James will have to be tried be- 

 ore the U. S. Courts of Montana or Wyoming. 

 James is the party who was arrested for killing elk and 

 trapping beaver in the Park at Norris last spring. His 

 teams and other property were confiscated and he ejected 

 from the Park. Later attempting to travel through the 

 Park on his way from Gardiner to the Teton Basin he 

 was again arrested and escorted out of the reservation 

 with orders to keep out. How strong the evidence against 

 him is for the coach robbery I could not learn, but it is 

 supposed to be enough to convict. Your correspondent 

 would be pleased to give the man who worked up the case 

 and made all the discoveries leading to the arrest of James 

 (and possibly the other robbers), credit for his share of 

 the work, but has been requested by him not to do so. 



The cabin in the Park on Hellroaring Creek which was 

 used by a party of hunters last winter as their headquar- 

 ters, while hunting for meat and specimens, has been 

 burned, to prevent its use for like pur poses again. 



Cooke City, the mining camp near the northeast corner 

 of the Park, is about deserted, only about fifteen people 

 remain in the camp. H. 



"Shadow." — Williamsburg, Va. , Nov. 5. — Have killed 

 a few quail, and to-day we got a turkey, three of us. I 

 had two long shots, but was not lucky enough to get one. 

 Shall try them again Monday and start for High Point 

 Tuesday.— Shadow. 



