864 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Dec. 1, 1881 



A TRUNCATED QUAIL HUNT. 



TO obtain a successful clay's quail shooting in southern 

 New Jersey is very difficult. Not from scarcity of 

 the birds, but because of the jealous care over them exer- 

 cised by the land owners. The birds are abundant in lo- 

 calities, especially where the small farms border on the 

 salt marshes, and the half -reaped buckwheat patches and 

 thick tangle of weeds and blue-bent heavy with seed fur- 

 nish their favorite food in profusion. There these vigor- 

 ous little epitomes of vitality thrive, and grow larger, 

 plumper and stronger of wing than their relatives of the 

 West or South. But to get access to the birds is no easy 

 task. The farms, with hardly an exception, are decorated 

 at every prominent point with tiny notices in varied speci- 

 mens of eacography, whereby the adventurer is informed 

 that if he trespass with clog or gun he will be visited with 

 the penalties of the law. The land owner will oftentimes 

 throw open his premises to those whom he knows and 

 likes, but let the stranger sportsman, with his brand new 

 suit, his hammerless and his cavorting samples of canine 

 worthlessness, appear upon the scene, and the uprising of 

 the populace eclipses that of Clan Alpine at the whistle of 

 Rhoderick Dim. The resident, however, who shoots oc- 

 casionally, and simply for recreation, can find shooting 

 enough over the farms of his friends among the farmers 

 to occupy all the time he can afford for that amusement. 

 For many years I have in the fail passed over a certain 

 round of' quail covers, having a different locality for each 

 day's tramp, so arranging as never to visit the same cover 

 twice in one season. 



My favorite shooting ground lies near a village which 

 I will call Legal Fence, in the county which I will name 

 Claverhouse. I have made much larger single bags else- 

 where, but for abundance of quail, and certainty of find- 

 ing them, Legal Fence is unrivalled. My friend Erskine 

 and I, for a dozen years, have kept that cover for our 

 tonne bouche, and have never been disappointed, until the 

 exasperating experience of the present season about to be 

 related. 



Our shooting ground is a peninsula of about fifty acres, 

 which projects its hastate shape into the salt marsh. The 

 upland is fringed all around, partly with small brier 

 bunches and scattered oaks, and everywhere with Indian 

 grass, or blue-bent, from ankle to waist high. Tongues 

 of blue-bent run far into the upland, which is partly corn- 

 field, partly wheat stubble, partly buckwheat, and mainly 

 peach orchard. An old vacant dwelling and a stable are 

 the only buildings. The farm supports five coveys of 

 quail, each covey having its own well-defined feeding 

 ground and shelter. The farm affords capital shooting 

 from 8 o'clock until 2, and a series of hedgerows running 

 all the way to the village give, on the return thither, 

 equally good shooting until night. 



On the morning of the present month (November) Ers- 

 kine and I with our dogs, Frank and Mac. traversed the 

 long causeway which leads across the marsh to tne farm 

 and reached ovu- shooting ground at 8 o'clock. The dogs 

 were fresh— too rank— and tore about at a pace which 

 argued ill for success. As we crossed the causeway a 

 hawk darted from mid ah- to the marsh and started a 

 snipe, which after many circlings dropped in what was 

 to be our homeward path: we made a mental note to pick 

 him up later. 



Last year we found the birds along the first fence and 

 this we hunted carefully. Our dogs at once showed 

 game, but a ripple through the blue-bent, at which I 

 risked an ineffectual shot, showed that a rabbit's early 

 morning ramble was the cause. Avoiding a clump of 

 briers we reach the field next the house and find the dogs 

 carefully trailing along the fence, soon coming to a point; 

 at a small thicket, Erskine being in the Held and I in the 

 bushes and blue-bent. Instantly a noble covey of big 

 birds burst out. I single out the nearest, miss him with 

 the first barrel, cover him with the second, and then, 

 without ascertaing his fate, I turn and mark the birds 

 which scatter about in the tall blue-bent. Erskine is 

 badly placed and does not shoot. Before I have marked 

 down my last bird my dog appears with my quail. 



After a covey is scattered my plan is to not hunt them 

 closely at once, but to try first to find another lot of 

 birds. Taking a straight course through the scattered 

 birds, killing three and missing four, we passed on- 

 through the timber and carefully hunted a field on the 

 other side, without success. Then, back through the 

 blue-bent, where we closed our score on this covey at ten 

 birds. 



The day had been threatening, and just then a gentle 

 shower struck us, which, however, soon passed off." 



Passing the house, we entered the peach orchard, and, 

 turning at right angles with our former course, crossed 

 the farm toward the opposite marsh. Just before reach- 

 ing the marsh there is a low hedgerow running parallel 

 with the marsh, and we turned back along this to hunt a 

 cover near the house. Frank was soon missing, and after 

 a search I found him pointing in a field of weeds down 

 the hedge. "When I reached him he took a few steps 

 along the hedge, and then wheeling, drew out in the Hold 

 a few steps and pointed again. A covey of a dozen birds 

 arose at long range, and out of it I dropped a pah:. Frank 

 immediately returned to the hedge where he first pointed 

 and drew slowly with uplifted nostrils along it, at last 

 establishing his point near the marsh, and being prettily 

 backed by Mac. This was evidently a division of the 

 same covey, for about a dozen more birds arose, and I 

 again made a double, Erskine being too far off to ehoot. 

 These birds scattered out in the marsh, where the grass 

 was not more than Clin, high, and there, too, we found 

 the first bunch, which I had been unable to mark. There 

 we had magnificent shooting for a few minutes, not los- 

 ing a bird shot at. A few escaped to the bushes while we 

 were putting in cartridges, and of these we picked up 

 three by snap shots in the thicket. 



The next cover was a blank, the birds probably being 

 out in the marsh somewhere. The rain now began to fall 

 pretty briskly. 



At the extreme point or spear- tip of the farm, where is 

 the only really bad cover, we started another large covey 

 in the thicket, and drove some of them into the marsh, 

 where we bagged six, both dogs distinguishing them- 

 selves by roading, pointing and backing, with a skill 

 which could not be excelled. 



Thence we started on our return, and when the peach 

 orchard was reached the dogs again made game, trailing 

 out into the orchard, which was fringed next the marsh 

 with blue-bends, through which were sparsely scattered 

 large oaks. The trail took us out into the orchard, nearly 



intersecting our course earlier in the day, and then back 

 again to the blue-bend. Suddenly I heard a roar, such as 

 quail make when then - wings are wet, and two birds 

 dropped at the report of Erskine's gun, I securing a single 

 bird which came my way. Another noble covey, drop- 

 ping temptingly in a narrow, open strip of tall timber. 



The rain was by this time coming down in sheets, and 

 we were drenched to the skin, and sought shelter in the 

 empty house, intending to leave our birds there, and re- 

 turn as soon as the rain would permit, to the twenty or 

 more living ones that awaited us. Taking account of 

 stock, we found that we had 36 quail and that the hour 

 was 11 o'clock. 



The rain, however, gave us no option, so when our team 

 appeared at noon we returned to the village, dried our 

 garments as best we might, and started homeward, with 

 our appetite for slaughter well whetted, but by no means 

 satisfied. F. S. J. C. 



WHERE GAME ABOUNDS. 



BELVIDERE, N. C, Nov. 15.— My outings thus far this 

 fall have been varied, and for the most part quite 

 successful. About the first of October I paid a visit of a 

 week to a relative in Sussex county, "Virginia, and in ac- 

 cordance with his instructions took my shotgun along. 

 "Squirrels and turkeys are thick as hops," so ran the in- 

 vitation. To say that I had a good time would faintly 

 express it. for though I was told that the little grays were 

 usually scarce owing to f ailure of the mast crop (i. e. , 

 beech and hickory nuts), still I found them in abundance; 

 and any one who would not have been satisfied under 

 like circumstances is more of a game hog that I care 

 to be. 



To give some faint notion of the variety of game I relate 

 the experience of our little party during one morning's 

 hunt. Having shot squirrels until it became monotonous, 

 we concluded to try for turkeys. So we drove over to the 

 beautiful farm of Mrs. Pretlow, which by the way is duly 

 posted to keep the colored brother from exterminating the 

 game with his "Zulu." Obtainiug permission from the 

 owner of the premises to hunt anywhere we wished on the 

 farm and adjoining woodland, we sallied forth, with a 

 youth as guide, in quest of the numerous turkeys said to 

 use in the peanut fields and the woods bordering them. 

 We had been in the woods but a few moments when the 

 pointer, taken along to hunt the turkeys, treed a pair of 

 nice fat looking squirrels; but this was game unworthy 

 of our steel, so we let them go, and hied the dog on to 

 look for something better. Pretty soon the gentle breeze 

 wafts to our eager ears the music of a pack of hounds 

 in full cry, and seemingly bearing in our direction. 

 "We stop, listen silently a moment, then ascertaining 

 that they are passing around us, we move on, with the 

 remark from our leader, "That is a deer, but he has gone 

 to the Blackwater and we will not see him to-day." "We 

 soon reach a small field of corn and look for sign. The 

 ground is tracked up as though it were a barnyard. There 

 are deer and turkey tracks by thousands; and as the dog 

 began moving around pretty lively, indicating that the 

 scent is warm, our hearts beat more rapidly, for just be- 

 yond is a thicket where we feel sure we will find, our 

 game. But, hark! "What is that? The hounds are com- 

 ing back! A moment's hesitation and we divide, one 

 going to the woods in* the direction of the dogs, the others 

 each take the opposite sides of the field. The hounds are 

 coming directly to where I am standing, all blown from 

 my exertion to reach the stand in time; but I see no deer 

 and the clogs pass within 20yds. of me, evidently the deer 

 passed before I reached the stand. "While I am thus cogi- 

 tating, bang! goes a gun on the opposite side of the field, 

 and bang goes another almost immediately after. I turn 

 in that direction and see the boy (our guide) and one of 

 the party running in the direction of some struggling 

 object; and crossing to them I find they have killed a 

 fine deer and are busily looking for shot marks, to see 

 which made the lucky shot. Both claimed a hit, and 

 while the dogs have run up and are scenting the deer and 

 licking the warm blood, a yell and a call from the woods 

 where one of the party stood, starts the whole pack in 

 that direction, and in a moment they are again in full 

 cry and soon out of hearing. We go "to ascertain what 

 the game was, and are told that when the guns were 

 fired at the deer a fine flock of turkeys flew up and 

 scattered through the woods, and while creeping carefully 

 through the thicket trying to get a snap shot our com- 

 panion walked up a big buck which so startled him that 

 he forgot to fire until the bushes had hidden him from 

 view. 



We sent the boy back to the farmhouse for a "nigger 

 and a mule," and sent the deer to the house with orders 

 to dress and hang it up, and if the owners of the dog- 

 called for it to deliver it to them; if not why then "keep 

 until called for." 



We went on after the turkeys and built our blinds and 

 producing our caller waited patiently for some time, then 

 began calling. But the hounds had frightened them out 

 of their wits and out of our reach, so we got no turkey, 

 but returned to the house, finding a most excellent din- 

 ner a waiting us and our deer nicely dressed and ready 

 for distribution. As no owner of the dogs appeared and 

 not knowing to whom they belonged we presented the 

 fair owner of the premises with a choice quarter, and plac- 

 ing the remainder in our buggies started for home, after 

 having paid our respects to the good things set before us, 

 and thanking our hostess for her hospitality. 



We never found the owner of the dogs, and do not yet 

 know whose they were, but they were a fine lot surely, 

 and ran like the wind. I merely relate this incident to 

 show the extent and variety of the game in certain parts 

 of Virginia, where the lands are protected from the pot 

 hunter. We found on not more than ten acres of inclosed 

 land that morning two deer, a large flock of wild turkeys, 

 several squirrels and a large covey of quail. Who can 

 beat it? 



I find quail more abundant here in North Carolina this 

 season than for some time. I have a friend in Washing- 

 ton, D, C. , who proposes visiting me soon to spend some 

 time in piu-suit of Bob White, and in order that I might 

 notify him of the prospect, I took my dog and walked out 

 in the field a few days since and found some beautiful 

 coveys; but not wishing to deplete them much before the 

 arrival of my friend, I "let them off easy," all except two 

 coveys which scattered beautifully in some stubble; and 

 as they were nice full grown birds", I "waded into them" 

 and killed sixteen; after which, having all I wanted for 

 immediate use, I wended my way homeward, fully satis- 

 fied that I could give my friend a few weeks' healthy 



sport, and then we will probably start for the 

 honk" country of Currituck. I have walked over some 

 of the quail grounds in this vicinity several times recently 

 and find the birds generally very well grown, and in fine 

 condition, though in some instances I find small birds too 

 young to shoot, but they are the second crop, for I 

 invariably find larger ones near by. I think I found not 

 less than 150 birds in one-half day. 



The boys recently had quite an experience with bruin. 

 A cow was killed not far from the shore in the Great 

 Swamp, and some of the boys went in and set a spring 

 gun close by the carcass. During the night the gun went 

 off, and on going in to look after the result the next 

 morning the hunters found blood, and putting the dogs 

 on the scent they followed the wounded bear nearly all 

 clay, finally giving up in disgust and returning minus 

 brain. The swamp was so miserably muddy, and the 

 reeds and briers so thick they could make no headway. 



A. F. R. 



A Week Later.— I sent you some rambling hunting 

 notes last week, since which time the boys have given the 

 bears "fits." They finished opening up a new drive 

 through the main body of the Old Dismal, and, taking the 

 dogs in, they had lots of fun, lulling four large bears, 

 crippling another, and slightly wounding one of the 

 hunters with a buckshot which was fired at a fleeing bear, 

 but glancing, struck a young man in the hand, taking 

 from him some blood and much of his ardor. I wish I 

 had time to give full particulars, but merely give the 

 summary: Four bears killed, one crippled, and a young 

 man slightly hurt and badly scared— not bad for two days 

 in such thick woods and brakes. If the weather keeps 

 good and the swamp dry, you will probably hear from us 

 again, as the crowd is now enthusiastic and bruin may 

 beware. A. F. R. 



CLUBS AND PRESERVES. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In your issue of Nov. 17 two items met my eye, and as 

 they are upon a subject of vital interest to the average 

 sportsman, they caused me at least to stop and think. 

 "Clubs and Preserves," by "Pippsissewa," is one and 

 your short editorial under "Snap Shots" the other. 



We are fast approaching a period in the progress of 

 game preservation in America when, in the writer's opin- 

 ion, it will be well to stop and consider where the next 

 step will lead us. 



From the time, only a few short years ago, when game 

 was plenty and the average man looked upon all attempts 

 to keep it so as mere child's play and unworthy the 

 thought of a serious Legislature, we have passed almost 

 at a jump to an era when the wide-snread interest in all 

 measures tending to preserve the remainder of our fish 

 and game commands attention and thought from all who 

 look to the well being of the many as opposed to the 

 pleasures of the few. 



In what the writer has to say let him not be understood 

 to say anything against the wealthy, and to a certain ex- 

 tent public-spirited gentlemen, who at a large expense 

 have acquired large tracts of land, upon which they are 

 endeavoring to raise (by hand) birds and animals, im- 

 ported at a great cost, and in which endeavor, if success- 

 ful, they are sure to beHefit sportsmen at large by the 

 overflow of then preserves. What I have to say is about 

 the system of acquiring privileges by lease over grounds 

 owned by farmers, and at our native birds, over which 

 (the ruffed grouse and woodcock at least) the farmer has 

 no more control than the wind that blows. About the 

 legality of such a thing the writer, not being a lawyer, 

 has nothing to say. He has, however, his opinions, one 

 of which is that the ownership of land should in no way 

 convey a title to the birds of the air, which happen to 

 feed or nest upon it. 



It is from a different point of view, however, that I wish 

 to present the subject, namely hi its bearing upon the vast 

 majority of sportsmen who have not the"means nor the 

 inclination to enter upon the system of leasing. Let us 

 take for example the present surroundings of the writer. 

 He lives in a city of about 18,000 inhabitants, among them 

 are a few of as true sportsmen as can be found in any 

 community , They are all hard working men— either with 

 head or hands. They come from the factory, the store, 

 and the office, and a day or two of outing (even in our 

 scant supply of game), means renewed health and 

 vitality. 



Is it fair to this large majority to allow a favored few, 

 who by accident of birth or circumstances, or, if you will 

 have it, by superior business ability, have acquired more 

 of this world's goods than their neighbors— to allow a few 

 sportsmen (good sportsmen and liberal though they be), to 

 come to our neighborhood and for a small consideration 

 utterly debar a large and worthy body of men from rea- 

 sonable enjoyment within such distance of home as their 

 time and means will permit? I hear some one say, "Why 

 not lease the land yourselves?" Only one thing lacking- 

 funds — and a belief that the wild things of the woods and 

 fields were given for the enjoyment of a'l, rich and poor 

 alike. 



In our high school here are a number of bright, intelli- 

 gent boys, most of them rndmbers of that widely-known 

 circle, the Agassiz Association. Their Saturdays and 

 holidays are spent in roaming the woods and fields. 

 Many of them now have a true sportsman's love of nature, 

 which then- freedom from restraint, in the shape of signs 

 "No shooting allowed," does much to foster. Is not this 

 as harmless, and at the same time as manly, a sport as a 

 boy can grow up in? Is it right to cut it off? 



Let us try to look at this subject from a farmer's stand- 

 point. I cannot agree with "Wise Acre," in his letter of 

 two weeks since, as to the character of the American 

 farmer? My experience has been smaller than "Wise 

 Acre's," but in the past ten years and more I have hunted 

 and fished in various parts of the country frorn Maine to 

 California, and though I have once or twice been so un- 

 fortunate as to trespass upon a trout brook (not knowing 

 it to be reserved), the treatment I have met with from the 

 farmer has been uniformly courteous and obliging. Does 

 not the farmer want for his sons and then- friends the 

 privileges he is asked to lease to the club? I hear some 

 one say, "Let him reserve that privilege in the lease." 

 Very well. But let me ask, as a business man talking 

 with business men, isn't that rather a large loophole to 

 leave in a contract (from a business point of view)? Would 

 a man. as a manufacturer, allow any such "string" to be 

 attached to a contract for supplies? I know of one who* 

 would not 



I say grant all possible protection to the farmer in the 



