246 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Oct. 20, 1887. 



>#m*> §H(f md 0mp 



Address all communicatimis to the Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 



AN OCTOBER BAG, 



ON the afternoon of October 81, 1883, I started up into 

 the country for a fortnight's shooting, and reached 

 my destination, the residence of my cousin Jim, an 

 ardent sportsman, just in time for supper. We discussed 

 the game prospects, which were finally decided to be 

 quite favorable, taking into consideration the compara- 

 tively short distance from the city to the ground over 

 which we were to shoot. We then loaded sheds until 

 bedtime. On awakening in the morning I heard the clear 

 ha-onk, ha-onh of wild geese on their way to a small lake 

 a few miles away. Was down and out in short order, 

 although in the east were only seen the first faint tinges 

 of dawn, and the moon had just gone down behind 

 the western trees. I let loose the setters, Dash and 

 Tillie, and we three took a short walk down the road, 

 and upon returning found the household aroused. A pair 

 of beagles were to be brought along in the rear, in charge 

 of a boy, to be used on rabbits. 



After breakfast we started, Jim H., Tom J. and the 

 writer, and came to a big brown buckwheat stubble, 

 bounded on two sides by bog meadows, thickly grown 

 with rank weeds — a favorite roosting place; on another 

 by a dense thicket, and on the remaining side principally 

 by three sportsmen, two breechloaders, a muzzleloader 

 and two English setters, with the boy, Kaiser, and the 

 beagles in reserve. The dogs were waved on, quartered 

 the field over, and in the corner toward the bogs Dash 

 suddenly caught on and pointed handsomely, Tillie back- 

 ing. We stood still contemplating the scene for some 

 few moments, it being the first point of the season, and I 

 noticed that my hands were trembling with buck fever 

 in a mild form. We moved up, Tillie leading the way 

 until even with Dash, who jealously took a couple of 

 quick steps in, when with a rush up whirred a good-sized 

 bevy of full-grown birds, fifteen or eighteen in all, and 

 notwithstanding the care we had taken to keep between 

 them and the thicket before mentioned, six or seven rose 

 over our heads and made for it, the majority of the bevy, 

 however, going into the bogs. Jim and I paid our re- 

 spects to those going for the brush, Jim getting a double, 

 while my bird, struck in the brain, started for a hole in 

 the clouds about five miles up, when I got in the left and 

 he stopped. Tom had added the two reports of his Scotch 

 muzzleloader to the general hubbub, blanking with both 

 and was wondering how it happened. In justice to 

 Master Tom, I must say it was his first and up to the 

 present time last attempt at wing shooting, and I after- 

 ward learned that he disposed of his gun and accoutre- 

 ments the following week at a raffle. 



After the dogs retrieved we started into the bogs, and 

 then the battery opened, and in a sbort time we added 

 eight more quail to our bag, three birds getting back to 

 the thicket. We started in, but got only one more bird 

 out of that bevy, the brush being too heavy. Further on 

 we started a cottontail in some briers along the edge of a 

 large swamp, so. calling in the boy who took charge of 

 the setters, the beagles were put on the track (being with 

 us on Tom's account), and Tom was stationed on a bridge 

 into the stonework of which the rabbits were accustomed 

 to run. We were now in a position to salute "Brer Rabbit" 

 upon sight without grace. The hounds' merry music 

 was awakening the echoes, Jim occasionally catching a 

 glimps of the dogs as they pushed the rabbit along the 

 swamp's edge. 



Suddenly he called out to me that he had seen the 

 beagles flush a woodcock, so leaving Tom to guard the 

 bridge we started in. Jim had marked him down in a 

 long, narrow and very dense thicket; so, without dogs, 

 Jim walked along one side and I along the other, expect- 

 ing the bird to get out wild, which he did. I heard the 

 flap of his wings, called Mark, and as he topped the brush 

 about 25 or 80yds. ahead pulled, and was very much sur- 

 prised at the cloud of feathers which drifted away at the 

 loud report of my gun, the shell being loaded with wood 

 powder, "I've got him," I called out; "So have I," came 

 the answer. We had both got him, and as Jim remarked 

 after we picked him up and inspected him, "it saved one 

 the bother of picking." He certainly did look rather 

 bald. Just then a shot from Tom announced that he had 

 seen bunny, and a prolonged shout that he had stopped 

 him. The beagles came up and were taken care of by 

 Kaiser, who turned the setters over to us again. 



We went along for some time through a swampy piece 

 of woods, with thick underbrush in places; the dogs were 

 ranging rather more freely than the nature of the cover 

 warranted, when, through an opening I saw Tillie stop 

 and draw off to one side as though she had winded some- 

 thing. I hurried up, but out from a big pin oak some 

 30yds. away, boomed an old cock partridge which I 

 reached for with the left barrel; got a number of feathers 

 as a memento and Jim's sarcastic comment, "That it was 

 all right to pick them but not to do it for some one else's 

 benefit," (and some rabbit hunters found the bird dead in 

 a field just outside the edge of the woods.) I have wor- 

 ried about that bird ever since, and generally look up 

 very closely any birds which leave feathers behind. We 

 put up and knocked down six woodcock in a big patch 

 of alders further on, and by the look of the droppings and 

 borings there had been a great many more there only a 

 short time previous. We now crossed over into a large 

 brush lot, where we expected to find some more quail. 

 I presently walked right into them, killed the old cock, 

 which rose high, the rest going off low through the brush. 

 On looking around, I saw Tillie at a charge; she had 

 doubtless been pointing when I stumbled upon the bevy. 

 It was almost impossible to shoot the birds in that place, 

 our object was to drive them out. At my call of Mark! 

 Jim had jumped upon a stump and saw the birds leave 

 the lot, some alighting in a field of high weeds while the 

 rest kept on to a bog meadow. We crashed along 

 through the brush in their direction, and a woodcock got 

 up some distance ahead of Jim; I caught a sight of him 

 but too far away. He went in much the same direction 

 as the quail, a little off to one side in a clump of white 

 birches. 



As we came out into the weed field we saw the quail 

 which had lit in the weeds and run together, rise and go 

 on to the dogs, so that we now had the whole bevy in 

 them. Jim now declared his intention of having that 

 woodcock, which was an unusually large one. I kept on 



for the bogs, on the edge of which Dash pointed, the bird 

 rose, and at the report, slanted down into the bog grass, 

 wing-tipped, and although we tried for some time to work 

 him up, failed to find. Finally gave it up disgusted, as 

 it is a great shame to wing or wound a bird severely and 

 have him get away and become food for vermin. Just 

 then I heard "snap, bang, bang, bang;" and glancing 

 quickly around at Jim's cry of "Mark," I saw the wood- 

 cock crossing behind me at 80 or 40yds. distance, and as 

 Jim said afterward, and it seemed to me at the time, 

 "he looked as big as alien." But he shrank considerably 

 before he came to bag, which was not to my gun, for, as 

 Mr. Peggotty says, "I'll be corned" if I didn't pull both 

 ban-els and never moved him; that capped the climax. I 

 told Jim about where I had marked him down and he 

 went on alone. I sa,t down meanwhile to get into a 

 better state of mind, as it always made me angry to miss 

 such an open shot. I thought the matter over; it must 

 must have been the fault of the shells, which, from 

 knocking around in my pocket, had lost the shot. I 

 finally decided it must be so and began to feel better. 

 Tom now came up and we sat on a stone fence waiting 

 for Jim to come, when we all intended to get square on 

 the quail in the bogs. Tom now told me that he had 

 flushed the woodcock and had a beautiful shot, but his 

 first barrel missed fire, and he had a very easy shot at a 

 rabbit which jumped out in the bush lot, but had another 

 misfire, and for the balance of the day he had misfire 

 after misfire with that right barrel, although he picked 

 the nipple clear, and re-primed it with fresh powder, and 

 snapped his cap regularly at every opportunity. 



Jim got a point on the woodcock which had gone back 

 to the brush lot: the bird jumped up, got tangled in the 

 heavy brush, and Jim cut the top of his head off with a 

 snap. He had now joined us, and we were just about to 

 charge, into the bogs, when I heard the sharp yelping of 

 the beagles out in the meadow, and out came the whole 

 bevy (which we had marked in and which had run to- 

 gether) like sparks froin an anvil; Jim killed an incomer, 

 I got a long left quarterer, and the game was up. We 

 found that Kaiser, not having heard anything of us, had 

 for his own amusement let the beagles loose, in con- 

 sequence of which we lost that bevy, as they were scat- 

 tered to the four corners of the earth. 



We had engaged to be back by three o'clock, so started, 

 coupling the setters and letting the beagles run, and on 

 the way home, over much the same ground, picked up a 

 brace of partridges, a gray squirrel and a number of rab- 

 bits, which Mr. Kaiser had to carry as a "reward of 

 merit." Reached home in time, and upon examining 

 Tom's gun, found the right barrel to be empty. He had 

 omitted to reload it, and had put a cap on, thinking it al- 

 ready loaded. This ended one of the most pleasant days 

 I ever had. Every fall since, Jim and I have been afield 

 together (Tom having renounced hunting as a delusion and 

 a snare) and expect to have some good times the coming 

 season. Jim and myself hope it is not too late to express 

 jointly our sincere thanks for a kindness rendered us by 

 your valuable paper. We wrote you some time ago in 

 regard to a case of dog sickness, and your prescription 

 effected a complete cure. Ragwort. 



IN THE SAWTOOTH RANGE.— IV. 



MONDAY we took horses to pack our deer in, and had 

 quite a time on account of the steep hill and fallen 

 timber, getting down at last to the trail, where we left 

 my buck with one horse until we should return with 

 Charles's deer, which was on the same trail only a good 

 deal further. On our way we met a party of prospectors, 

 the first people we had seen in three weeks; they prom- 

 ised to visit our camp the next morning. Getting to 

 Charles's deer, which was still larger, hut lying in such 

 an impassable wilderness we only took the hind parts, but 

 as the antlers were so large and beautiful I packed out 

 the head for preservation. We were a long way from 

 camp, the trail, through miry meadows and marshy 

 bottoms, was a dangerous one" for our horses, and we felt 

 very glad when we caught sight of our cheery camp-fire. 

 The next day we rested, as we had been traveling or hunt- 

 ing since we started. Our prospectors paid us a visit; we 

 told them the latest news we knew, and received direc- 

 tions and information of our further route. According to 

 their description the country they were coming from 

 must be a perfect hunters' paradise, deer, elk and moose 

 abundant, and not hunted; so tame that they killed 

 almost all their meat from their cabin door; no trapper 

 ever visited there: on one stream they counted one 

 hundred beaver dams, besides plenty of martins, foxes, 

 fishers and wolves and other varmints. They were leav- 

 ing the country for fear of being snowed in, and knowing 

 the dangers they warned us that to enter it now would 

 be a desperate, mad and daring adventure. 



Commenting on our horses and outfit, they noticed a 

 rather striking pack saddle, which I had shipped with 

 the rest from the East, but which had ruined every 

 horse's back; I offered to exchange it for one of theirs, 

 and both sides felt satisfied with the bargain. I had my 

 eye on a fine-looking dog in their outfit, and after a little 

 persuasion, and a sociable smile, we secured Pedro for a 

 small consideration. 



Wednesday the 19th we were early in the saddle, going 

 five miles above where we had built the bridge to follow 

 the elk. Picketing our horses in a suitable spot, we 

 hunted faithfully but in vain for elk or bsar. A singular 

 incident happened to me that day. Hunting back in the 

 afternoon toward our horses I jumped a buck with large, 

 tempting antlers, giving me a fair but running shot. At 

 the crack of the rifle the buck dropped. Pedro, our 

 lately acquired dog, was with me, and at my command 

 went bounding to the deer, which got up again, and with 

 Pedro in close pursuit, soon out of sight. I expected the 

 powerful dog would soon catch the wounded deer, but 

 Charles, attracted by my shot, told me that Pedro was 

 running far down the river. We looked for blood, but 

 not a single drop could we detect, neither where he fell 

 nor in his tracks. I must have creased, or, the bullet 

 st riking his antlers, knocked him down, paralyzing him 

 for an instant. Getting back to the horses we made for 

 camp, Charles going ahead, while I helped Bill take up 

 his traps, he had caught some foxes but no beaver; a 

 trapper who shortly preceded us had cleaned them out. 



Thursday we packed and struck for Dead wood. Made 

 it next day by noon in a drizzling rain. This fitly named 

 town consisted of half a dozen deserted log shanties, 

 which we took possession of; putting our camp duffle in 

 one, cooking in another, and sleeping in a third. 



Half a mile down we found an old pioneer, who kept a 

 few supplies; he owned a placer claim, but being without 

 sufficient water had some men engaged digging a ditch, 

 leading Deer Creek with its plentiful watershed to his 

 claim. He told us the town sprung up in 1867 and had 

 quite a boom, the population increasing to 150 men, 

 but all had deserted when the next excitement was 

 boomed. 



We moved our camp next day down to the Payette 

 River, where we were told of beaver, but they were 

 trapped out, or had become too wise for us. Billy noticed 

 considerable sign up the river, and concluded to leave us 

 for a few days, to find out. Giving him a few cooking 

 utensils and grub, and telling him that we would keep on 

 the trail to Garden Valley, he started up the river, while 

 we went in the opposite direction, and camped at night at 

 the foot of the divide. In the morning our horses had a 

 hard time to get down; the descent was so rough and 

 steep that the packs kept slipping forward. At last we 

 got down to Onion Valley and camped. 



After setting our tent and. a cold lunch, we took a stroll 

 through the small valley, and found camped not far be- 

 low us an old packer, with his mule team. He was tak- 

 ing his midday meal, and being invited to join him we 1 

 took a cup of coffee, hot bread, and fresh butter, a luxury 

 we had no tasted since our start. 



In the morning Charles and I went in different direc- 

 tions, but did not see any game, though plenty of sign 

 that indicated bears been feasting on the wild ripe rose- 

 buds. That night at supper time Billy made his appear- 

 ancv, he had again been disappointed and hurried on. i 

 after us. 



Thursday we pulled out early and had to cross Lightning 

 ridge, the meanest trail we had traveled, sometimes up 

 large smooth and slippery rock, actually pushing the 

 horses which could get no footing, or through narrowly 

 hewn paths, where they had to perform goat acts of 

 jumping, climbing and sliding. It was specially rough 

 on the pack horses, but at last we overcame the worst 

 and came to some springs, but not finding feed for horses 

 here we pushed on to the foot of the Garden Valley amid 

 a lively snow flurry, thanking Providence it did not snow 

 in the morning, for this would have made it impossible 

 to cross the divide. We quickly set our tent on the I 

 creek near the river, and no sooner had it up with our 1 

 things inside than the snow changed into pouring rain, ! 

 which lasted all night. 



In the morning the mountains around us were covered 

 with a deep mantle of snow. Bflly straightened things 

 out in camp while we went out to reconnoiter. A mile below 

 camp we found a well-kept and well-stocked ranch and 

 in the owner (Mr. Pinney) a sociable and hospitable gen- 

 tleman. Telling him from where we came and what we 

 were after he advised us to stay; to turn our horses, which 

 needed rest, in his pasture. In regards to game he spoke 

 very favorably, but recommended us to see and get ac- 

 quainted with D. Bunch, the "boss hunter of Idaho." 



The next day Charles and I rode down through the 

 beautiful and well settled Garden Valley to find this 

 mighty hunter, stopping at the post office to mail some 

 letters. Mr. Mills, the postmaster, who keeps a kind of 

 road house and a store of all trades, sent his son along as 

 guide to Bunch's, who lived at the lower end and a few 

 miles up on the south fork of the Fayette. We met him 

 on his way to the river, where he was haiiling lumber for 

 his new house. We soon imparted to him the nature of 

 our visit; he was soriy not to be able to go along with us, 

 having to finish his house, but willing to give us good 

 advice and information. After a longer chat and a little 

 more persuasion, his hunter's blood got up, and he prom- 

 ised that if we would come up to his place with our outfit 

 he would manage to go three or four days with us. 

 Highly pleased with our success, we thanked him, and 

 promised to be on hand. It was dark when we returned 

 to Pinney's ranch on the upper end of the valley. We 

 left our horses in his pasture, and as our camp was on the 

 other side of the river, we had to use a foot log, shin- 

 ning it across, and feeling greatly relieved reaching 

 again terra firma. In the morning we packed up and 

 moved down the valley in a pouring rain. At the post 

 office we met Bunch's oldest boy, Lee, and Alex. Carpen- 

 tier, a neighboring chum; and, after purchasing a few 

 needed supplies, they piloted us to the hunter's cabin. 

 We did not set our tent, but slept in the cabin. It was 

 well we did, for it rained great guns all night. 



Next morning it cleared, and after breakfast we 

 assorted our camp duffle, leaving all unnecessary truck, 

 antlers, skins, etc., and in the afternoon started for 

 Bunch's old hunting grounds, following the fork up until 

 we came to a high, steep mountain, which we climbed, 

 tacking down the other side, equally as steep, and camp- 

 ing at the base on Big Creek. Next morning we started 

 out in pairs; Mr. Bunch and the scribe for the higher 

 ridges in quest of elk or bear, Lee Bunch and Charles, 

 while Alex. Carpentier took Billy in tow. We ran across 

 several deer, but our object was larger game; we knew 

 the boys would kill some venison in a better locality for 

 packing out, and we soon heard them turn loose. Reach- 

 ing the top of a high overlooking mountain, commanding 

 a magnificent and extended view, we sat down to watch. 

 Bunch soon saw a black bear on the next ridge, bending 

 down the bushes, and feasting on the ripe berries. We 

 sneaked down and got within 200yds. unnoticed by him, 

 when both of us fired together. One of the bullets must 

 have struck him; he turned to run for the next gulch, 

 when Bunch stopped him again; he was the most non- 

 plussed bear I ever saw; he changed his course and came 

 straight for us; then discovering his mistake stopped, 

 giving me a splendid shot. This bullet finished him; he 

 fell and rolled near the creek. It was a large bear, with 

 beautiful glossy fur, and very fat. Though we noticed 

 plenty of fresh sign, we saw no more bears that day. 

 Reaching camp by sundown we compared notes. Lee 

 had killed a nice doe and wounded a buck. Charles had 

 hung up a buck and a doe, Billy had killed a doe, but 

 Felix had not run on anything. 



In this splendid game locality we hunted for a week 

 with various results, Lee succeeded in killing a large cin- 

 namon bear; the.rest of us brought in several deer, and a 

 great many grouse. One day when Bunch, Felix and I 

 were coming home from an unsuccessful drive, hunting 

 along an extended sidling mountain, Bunch on the top 

 kept rolling down large rocks and boulders, thorugh the 

 intervening thickly grown gulches, Felix being at the J 

 base of the mountain, while I kept between the two, on 

 the side. Bunch kept sending down perfect avalanches of 

 rocks and logs, but nothing showed itself. We had come 



