326 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Nov. 17, 1887. 



\mnt md %ut\. 



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



BOB WHITE'S PARADISE. 



LAST week friend Daniels and I discovered a place fit 

 to write about, and worthy to become celebrated for 

 the particular purpose it was designed for by a benefi- 

 cent and all-wise Providence. The first of these two 

 things I am going to do in the hope that thereby the sec- 

 ond may not be done; for I give notice that I pre-empt the 

 subject, and that once accomplished, the place will for- 

 ever remain what I have called it at the beginning of this 

 account— Bob White's paradise— for, this not being read, 

 others will not find him out, and we can't hit him when 

 we do find him. 



On the evening of the day before, we left a city which 

 is sufficiently located when I remark that it is in the 

 middle of a country that lies between the equator and the 

 North Pole, and which country is in its entirety a para- 

 dise for all honest and jovial men and is itself a retreat 

 for the persecuted and ill-treated of all the decent rest of 

 the world, and rode a hundred miles south, until we pene- 

 trated for miles a dense wilderness where people do not 

 look for quail because there are none there. And we 

 went to sleep at an inn in a small hamlet, our dog, Dale, 

 shortly thereafter climbing, in a devout and careful man- 

 ner, into the lower part of the same bed, and going also 

 to sleep in the comfortable belief that in unity there is 

 warmth, which there is. 



But in the morning after breakfast we trudge after the 

 manner of the hunters, industriously into the wilderness 

 by a road which had deteriorated commercially from the 

 time it was made and which declined topographically 

 from its start until we came down into a valley, the like 

 of which is enough to make even a shotgun thrill with 

 pleasure. 



When we came down out of the hills we also came out 

 of the wilderness. The little scrub oaks had given Avay 

 before the axe of the pioneer until now all the valley is 

 cultivated and settled. It winds in and out between the 

 high hills on either side, its little stream showing here 

 and there through the thickets which fringe it; some 

 places a half mile from hills and hillside, some places a 

 mile; every now and then its middle stream straying over 

 to the foot of one or the other hillside to get a tributary 

 spring, or loitering at the end of some gully to pick up its 

 streamlet; so that after awhile it requires rubber boots and 

 logs and things to get you over dry shod. And, sir, there 

 are cornfields and stubblefields and meadows and thickets, 

 now on one side of the stream, now on the other, and again 

 on both sides, and here and there a farmhouse nestles 

 close to the hill. And when you get down six miles to 

 the end where the stream reaches the big spring, famous 

 hi that it is so big that it turns itself into a river from 

 the very start and so cold that brook trout are said to live 

 therein by the grace of the Fish Commissioners, in 

 order that there may not be too much of a good thing, 

 the valley stops, leaving the stream to once more cut its 

 narrow way out of the hills. 



And that is where we hunted. We only needed to 

 traverse about a mile of it, for within its compass we 

 found four bevies of quail, surely enough for one day. 

 Especially so when we couldn't shoot them, and only re- 

 quired enough to shoot at. We had entered the second 

 field, when a bevy that had probably just begun its break- 

 feast of ragweed flushed wildly ahead of the dog and set- 

 tled a few yards away in a thicket. Now, the dog Dale 

 had never been hunting or smelled a game bird before, 

 and was therefore about to make his first essay in the 

 business of right-minded pointers. Accordingly we all 

 approached the thicket with those feelings of perturba- 

 tion and delight which can better be imagined by young 

 dogs and old hunters than described by either. He 

 pointed staunchly and beautifully his first quail, and if 

 his masters had shot as staunchly and beautifully as he 

 pointed, he would doubtless have retrieved it. But they 

 missed. This course of procedure was the general order 

 of the day. At one time in the day my companion called 

 me to him from the bushes near the stream. True, I had 

 heard him shout, but time had taught me to attach no 

 significence to that; and when I noticed Dale swimming- 

 out of the stream with a quail in his mouth, and which 

 he brought carefully to my hand, I delightedly asked him 

 (the dog) how he caught it. And then, seeing it was 

 dead, my inquiring eyes sought those of my friend, who 

 returned the look solemnly, and said: 



"Mr. President, I have shot a quail!" 



This was so unusual a circumstance that we both in- 

 stinctively felt the need of a season of consultation. Ac- 

 cordingly we called up a scion of the hamlet, who had 

 loitered after us with a basket all day in the hope of 

 reward, and extracted from the basket packed by the 

 provident goddess of our bachelor kitchen at home, a can 

 of coffee, which we warmed over a fire of twigs. The 

 owner of the land had so many twigs that we thouerht he 

 wouldn't care. Likewise we brought forth a fried "fowl, 

 various sandwiches, pickles, cups, pie, cake, a bottle 

 loaded with over five drams, and a package of cigars. 



"I am sorry it happened," he said, "on account of the 

 relatives of the deceased. It would not have been so 

 bad if it had been some other birds, but we had been 

 shooting at them a long time, and experience had given 

 them the right to feel safe." 



"True," said I, "and we know no way to reach the sur- 

 vivors with our regrets, which makes it the sadder for us. 

 Now, in the course of human events, if you in the exer- 

 cise of your professison inadvertently sever a patient's 

 jugular vein, as seems to have been done here, you can 

 attend the funeral, or send flowers to decorate his coffin, 

 and afterward create reminiscences of the man's great- 

 ness for the benefit of his surviving heirs. But here, a 

 quail before death remains only a quail after death. He 

 cannot in life run a corner grocery with an eye-opener 

 attachment in the rear and in death be a fond husband, a 

 devoted father and a leading politician in the First Ward. 

 And yet," I continued, seeking to assuage his grief and 

 also to draw his attention from the yet unsecured portion 

 of the fried fowl, "you should bear it manfully. It was 

 an occurrence totally beyond your control. I too aim at 

 the whole world when I shoot, so that this concrete result 

 of an abstract dealing might have fallen to my lot if he 

 had flown in front of my gun instead of yours." 



After a period of drowsy repose, such as comes to noble 



minds after a light repast, we sauntered on, the dog 

 pointing eveiy now and then all day. Sometimes we 

 stood by to admire him at such times until he must have 

 grown impatient. I disdain to give the list of casualties 

 for the day. It might attract attention to a spot which, 

 I love to asseverate, is a paradise for quail, and an elysium 

 of bliss for those who, like my friend and I, love nothing 

 better than such a day as that one was. We are going 

 there again Thanksgiving Day. Indeed, we are going to 

 lease the shooting privilege of the entire valley in com- 

 pany with a few carefully selected poor shots. 

 Would you like to become a charter member ? 



G. K. A. 



NATIONAL PARK NOTES. 



YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK, Nov. 8.— Editor 

 Forest and Stream: In my last notes from the Park 

 I mentioned the fact that William James was held at 

 Camp Sheridan, Mammoth Hot Springs, awaiting the 

 action of the civil authorities, and that he was charged 

 with being one of the porters who robbed the coach July 

 4. Since.then, I learn, he has confessed everything and 

 has implicated Chas. Higginbottom in the robbery. Hig- 

 ginbottom was arrested on the 3d inst. by the sheriff of 

 Park county and taken to Bozeman. He was at work on 

 the Horr Bros, coal mines, only a few miles from where 

 the crime was committed. 



On the 5th inst. , William James was turned over to a 

 Deputy U. S. Marshal by Captain Harris. James was es- 

 corted to the line of the Park by a squad of soldiers, where 

 he was delivered up to the marshal, who took him to Boze- 

 man. There he and Higginbottom will await the action of 

 the U. S. Grand Jury, which will sit on the 15th hist. 

 How strong the evidence is against Higginbottom I cannot 

 learn. It is thought revenge was the object of both men, 

 as they were well enough posted to know that very little 

 money is carried by tourists, and that in checks, drafts, 

 etc. Higginbottom was a stage driver discharged by 

 Wakefield, and James was an exile from the Park for 

 having trapped and killed game on the reservation last 

 winter. Stopping the coach it was supposed would check 

 travel to the Park and injure the transportation business. 

 James is said to be a cousin of the notorious Jesse and 

 Frank James and has been in trouble before. 



Since the cold snap in October the weather has been 

 very enjoyable, with warm, sunny days and cold nights; 

 very little snow, just enough to make the game feel good 

 and keep well back in the mountains, although nearer 

 their winter range. Elk, mountain sheep, antelope and 

 deer can now be seen in great abundance by taking a few 

 miles' ride from the Mammoth Hot Springs or Yancey's. 

 Travelers from Cooke City see game on all the high moun- 

 tains on either side of the road. 



Hunting parties out from Gardiner and the Upper 

 Yellowstone report but little game. It has not yet come 

 out of the Park. Very little game has been killed so far 

 this season in Montana in the country adjacent to the 

 Park, and, as the new laws will protect the game much 

 earlier this year, very little will be killed. H. 



CLUBS AND PRESERVES. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



How about those who are not wealthy enough to jo'n 

 one of those powerful concerns? Thousands of your 

 readers make plans a long way ahead, to take a trip to the 

 woods, and they are often obliged to defer it another year. 

 But the blessed knowledge that there is a place where 

 they may go lawfully when the time does come, makes it 

 easy to bear. 



But how long will it be before all the vast wilderness 

 be taken up, at the rate of a hundred and twenty square 

 miles at a jump? 



When Billy and I were young shavers we could go gun- 

 ning anywhere, and often we would climb the highest 

 hills, and look to the north, where the woods seemed to 

 stretch without end, and where on clear days we could 

 see some of the White Mountains; and we would plan 

 sometime to look upon the wonderful country beyond. 



Now, tresspassing signs mock us everywhere; barbed 

 wire bristles on every fence; and we console ourselves by 

 saying "there is no game any way" (as if we went for 

 game alone), and we will try our level best to go down to 

 Maine next year; only sometimes "next year" does not 

 come along for three or four years. But when it does 

 come, how glorious and free the life in the wilderness. 

 And the memories of lonely camps, glorious lakes, rivers, 

 forests and beautiful sunsets, has cheered us many a time 

 after. 



How is it? Were we next year to take a trip to a dis- 

 trict lying within the territory of some of these clubs? 

 would we be put back? and would it make it right for 

 them to banish us from the mountains just because they 

 happen to have the power to do so? Next to casting my 

 vote there is another privilege I prize as an American 

 citizen, and that is, when circumstances permit, to take 

 with rifle and pack to the wilderness for a season, where 

 I can see no use for fences and policemen. 

 Lawrence, Mass. PlPPSlSSEWA. 



A Transformed Punt.— Mr. G. E. White, of Ottawa, 

 Can. , had a curious experience while shooting on his pre- 

 serves on the Ottawa. He constructed a duck punt, 

 specially designed for floating over the mud flats; the 

 bow was pointed, the bottom curving up and the deck 

 curving down. Some days ago he was shooting at the 

 end of a bay, and when he could get his craft no further, 

 left it, and returned to camp by the shore. About a week 

 afterward he went to recover his punt, when, to his sur- 

 prise, he found that it had been converted into a house 

 by a colony of niuskrats. They had covered in the cock- 

 pit and gnawed a convenient doorway through the side 

 of the punt, rendering it utterly unseaworthy. The rats 

 doubtless thought that they had secured commodious 

 winter quarters. — G. 



Indian Summer in Michigan. — The open season for 

 deer began a week ago, and I have thus far heard only of 

 one killed (on Torch River) in this county. Five or six 

 years ago we could start one in a couple of hours almost 

 any where. Looks as if the poor things needed protec- 

 tion, doesn't it? We are in the midst of the most delight- 

 ful Indian summer weather and you just ought to be on 

 these lakes to have the benefit of it. — Kelpie (Central 

 Lake, Mich., Nov. 7). 



SHOOTING NOTES. 



TWO belated woodcock were shot near Kingston, N. 

 Y., on Friday last, the snow being an inch deep. I 

 doubt very much if woodcock are so susceptible to cold 

 as is generally imagined. I remember shooting eight 

 birds once in Christmas week in eastern Virginia, when 

 everything had been frozen up tight for three days. At 

 the time there was six inches of snow on the ground. 

 The birds were all strong flyers. Looking back upon the 

 past fall's woodcock shooting, it certainly was remark- 

 ably good in Connecticut, northern New Jersey and -in 

 New York. I met a friend at Oneida the other day, and 

 he told me that he and a friend killed 51 birds on Oct. 23 

 in that vicinity, shooting but half a day. Other sports- 

 men in the same section got bags of 20 to 30 birds each 

 about the same time. Strange to say, in every case the 

 cock were found only on the wettest ground. 



Never were partridges more abundant in Delaware 

 county, N. Y., than they have been this season. I have 

 three friends who killed 92 in four days about two weeks 

 ago. 



The largest individual bag, however, that I have heard 

 of has been made by Mr. Selkirk, who resides near Albany. 

 He had up to Nov. 11 shot 531 birds. He is a genial gen- 

 tleman who only takes the field for pleasure, and always 

 keeps his friends well supplied with game from his gun. 



One has only to travel on an accommodation train to 

 this city on any line of railroad in southeastern New York 

 to see to what extent the partridges are being snared. In 

 the Catskill region birds are more scarce, for this cause, 

 this autumn, than they have been known in forty years. 

 Every little station along the Ulster and Delaware Rail- 

 road has its snaring banditti, and bunch after bunch of 

 snared birds are handed in the baggage cars to be eventu- 

 ally shipped in big lots to this city. 



Mr. Arthur Duane, of this city, and his friend Mr. Chas. 

 Barnum, killed fifty-one partridges, eight woodcock and 

 one English snipe at Lime Rock, Conn., in three days last 

 week. 



Mr. Chas E. Gove and a friend from Albany went for a 

 couple of days' shooting in Ulster county last week. The 

 raja and snow, however, spoiled their fun, and they had 

 no chance to shoot but two birds. 



There are more bears in the Catskill Mountains this 

 season than have been seen in a long while. Deer and 

 wolves disappeared from this region many years ago. 

 The last wolf was killed by Farmer Hall, for which he 

 received some $80 bounty. It is rather interesting to 

 look over the old bounty records of the town of Catskill, 

 which for over seventy years show the well sustained 

 warfare against the animals of prey in Greene comity. 



I met some old shooting friends at Montreal the other 

 day and they tell me of many caribou in the mountains 

 to the eastward of Quebec. The Indians of that region 

 also report several small herds of moose. The Shiek- 

 shock Mountains are the range. 



Two important bills will be introduced in the next 

 session of the New Jersey Legislature. One placing the 

 fine of $50 for trespassing on land advertised as a game 

 preserve, and the other to abolish summer woodcock 

 shooting. I am greatly in favor of both, and I am happy 

 to say there are hundreds of responsible residents of that 

 State who think with me. 



The trouble continues in South Jersey between non- 

 resident shooters, farmers and the West Jersey Game Pro- 

 tective Society. Things seem badly mixed and we New 

 Yorkers are all in a fog as to the merits of the case. Many 

 of us would be happy to hear through Forest and Stream, 

 what such thorough and accomplished sportsmen as Mr. 

 George Emlen, Mr. Benjamin Richards and Mr. Winsor, 

 of Philadelpliia, have to say about it. 



The draining of the famous Sagamon bottoms and Clear 

 and Quiver lakes in Mason county, Illinois, which Forest 

 and Stream notices editorially in issue of Nov. 3, is being 

 supplemented by the reclaiming of Four-mile Prairie, in 

 Green county, Indiana. Although the latter place was 

 but little known it was one of the best mallard marshes in 

 the West. A wide ditch now taps the famous string of 

 ponds where I alone for years en joyed magnificent shoot- 

 ing. Being familiar with the effect of the ditching of 

 Mason county, where I have killed canvasbacks, redheads, 

 mallards, bluebills and "black Jacks" on several occasions, 

 1 will give those who read these notes a point well worth 

 remembering, that in every instance during the transition 

 of ducking grounds to farming lands, there is a stage in 

 the game when the best English snipe shooting that man 

 may wish for can be had. I found this the case in Mason 

 county in 1880, having picked up the point at Havana, 

 111., in 1878, when I learned for the first time the con- 

 templated "improvement." 



On the night of Nov. 8 a flock of swans were attracted 

 by the lights of the iron furnaces in Hollidaysburg, Pa., 

 and for a long time circled over the village in an aimless 

 way. It is said some of the birds alighted on the house- 

 tops and on the ground. The next morning A. P. Walker 

 captured a crippled member of the flock. It was pure 

 white, and measured 6ft. across the wings. 



William S. Foster, so well known to old-time Shinne- 

 cock Bay gunners and the efficient superintendent of the 

 Palmer's Island Ducking Club, Currituck Sound, North 

 Carolina, writes me from the latter place what ducks 

 there are this season in that once famous water are being 

 slaughtered illegally by fire-hunters and big-gun night- 

 shooters. The law forbids shooting after sunset and 

 before daylight, but, like the rest of our game laws, it is 

 a dead letter. This year the sound is covered with more 

 batteries and bush blinds than ever known before. Every 

 duck has its price upon its head, and every native is going 

 for that price. It is full time the members of the duck- 

 ing clubs should consolidate and prosecute the law 

 breakers. 



Quail shooting on Long Island has been about as poor 

 as usual. At East Hampton there are more shooters than 

 birds. The best place I know is in the vicinity of 

 Ponquogue. 



Pennsylvania sportsmen have been enjoying fine Avild- 

 f owl shooting on the Susquehanna River about Columbia 

 Dam. Ducks are also reported numerous along the beau- 

 tiful Juniata. Rabbits and some quail are being shot in 

 York county. Once York Valley was a famous cover for 

 quail, and many good shoots have I enjoyed there with 

 "Pop"Treager of York and poor Jim Evans, the once 

 celebrated gun maker of Philadelphia. But in taking a 

 retrospective think, I must say I never saw finer shooting 

 at quail in Pennsylvania than that once afforded in Gratz 

 Valley, Dauphin county. The Wise Acre, 



New Yobk, Nov. 14. 



