486 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



|"Jan. 12, 1883- 



COLEMAN'S ISLAND CAMPS. 



TT was a wild stormy night toward the middle of Octo- 

 X ber that we alighted at Gardner's, after a tedious 

 iourney of twenty miles. We had come down for a few 

 days of sport with the ducks, and to find relief Irom a 

 distressing complaint by a sojourn among the pines that 

 f rinse the shores of Nine-mile Pond, and to drmk m the 

 beauty of the richest piece of landscape to be found on all 

 Cape Cod. 



We had planned to go into camp that night, so after 

 getting warm, and greeting our old acquaintance who sat 

 before Gardner's cheerful fire, we tucked trousers into 

 stockings, true soldier fashion, to keep out the wet; took 

 o-uns, ammunition, and what little camp duffle we had 

 brought along, together with an old lantern, which had 

 seen service half a century before on the Norwich and 

 Worcester packet line, and whose feeble rays served to 

 make the "darkness visible;"' and bidding those around 

 the fire good-night, we started on our lonely tramp. It 

 was pretty dark, and rained a little, and the path was not 

 very well defined, but we struggled on through the woods, 

 now up to our waists in the thick underbrush, and again 

 finding the path, only to be knocked out again by some 

 refractory rock or stump, which would insist in getting 

 under our feet. We reached the shore of the pond with- 

 out getting very wet or meeting with any accident, and 

 finding the boat, which was moored to a tree and locked, 

 we deposited our duffle in the bottom and were soon 

 skimming on the dark bosom of the water toward Cole- 

 man's Island, the flickering rays of the antiquated lantern 

 dimly lighting up our course. We were in some doubt, 

 owing to the distance, as to the exact point to land, but 

 as the boat grated on the pebbly shore we were gratified 

 to see the dim outlines of the little cabin, which was to 

 be our home for the next week, only a few rods away. 

 We made the boat secure for the night, and taking traps 

 and guns, Gardner led the way to the shanty. The decoy 

 ducks in their comfortable quarters in the stand greeted 

 us with a quack of welcome as we approached, and after 

 taking a look at them to see that they were all right, we 

 entered the shanty and took note of our surroundings. 



A few minutes' work sufficed to put our little den in 

 order. Then we made all secure for the night, and find- 

 ing available seats sat down to have a chat. As our 

 conversation began to flag, across the wide expanse of 

 waters, now sullen and angry, came the moaning of the 

 night wind. The miniature waves dashed spitefully 

 upon the pebbly beach and the air began to grow chilly. 

 Throwing away our cigars we rolled ourselves in the 

 blankets and tried to sleep. The novelty of our surround- 

 ings, the screeching and moaning of the night wind as it 

 howled among the ancient pines and the constant dash- 

 ing of the waves upon the shore prevented us from get- 

 ting much sleep, but we rested all the same. The pure 

 air, the delightful freedom of our surroundings, the 

 strange and mysterious voices of the night, all seemed to 

 lull the senses into sweet repose, and toward morning we 

 both slept soundly. 



Four o'clock found us awake; and tumbling out of our 

 bunks, we hastily dressed and after a bath and a draught 

 of pure water from the pond, we were ready for the day's 

 work. We started up our Jittle kerosene stove, and after 

 getting a cup of hot coffee under way, went down into 

 the stand. The moon was still shining as we placed 

 our live decoys in position. Hie fowl immediately set 

 up a most vociferous quacking, as a pair of black ducks 

 flew swiftly by into the bend beyond, and suddenly 

 wheeling were upon us before we had fairly taken in 

 the situation. We managed to get out of sight in time 

 as on swiftly flying pinions they rushed by the stand, 

 and alighted within easy gunshot to the leeward. The 

 waning light of the moon shone for an instant along the 

 polished surface of our guns as we quickly sighted and 

 fired, making a clean kill. This was a good beginning 

 and as it happened a good ending, for it was the only 

 shot we had that morning. 



The sun came up over the distant hills, clothing the 

 maples and birches upon Long Point with an added glory, 

 while far away to the north Shoot Flying Hill loomed up 

 grand and majestic against the autumn sky. The morn- 

 ing wore on, a chill norther had set in, and taking leave 

 of the stand for a little while, we paddled across to the 

 mainland and took a tramp up into the village, Gard- 

 ner's son Willie, who had now joined us, securing a part- 

 ridge on the way. Will Gardner and myself got back to 

 the stand before noon, and spent the remainder of the 

 day and night there. Gardner dropped in on us every 

 day during our stay there, taking turns with his son in 

 stopping at the shanty nights. 



Thus passed five halcyon days, days passed amid the 

 solitude of forest and stream, and, free from business 

 caies, days that brought health and strength to the wasted 

 energies and sent the blood leaping through the arteries 

 with renewed vigor. We found game plentiful enough 

 to insure us good sport, with enough to keep the wolf 

 from the camp door and some to distribute among friends, 

 and when we left we brought several trophies of our 

 skill. 



We broke camp one lovely morning the 17th of October, 

 and started on our homeward journey. Never was a 

 hunter's heart gladdened by a more beautiful panorama 

 than that which was unfolded to our gaze that lovely 

 autumn morning in the little stand at Coleman's Island. 

 No breath of wind ruffled the broad expanse of water 

 upon which the morning sun in all his splendor cast his 

 gentle rays. Every sound for miles around was brought 

 to our ears with a distinctness almost startling as we leaned 

 upon our guns and drank in the silent beauty of the 

 scene. It was the one morning in all the world upon 

 which a sportsman would most hate to break camp and 

 leave the woods. The ducks were constantly moving, 

 keeping us in a perpetual state of excitement," as now a 

 bunch would take notice of our decoys and swing toward 

 us, only to sheer off at the critical moment and pass out 

 of gunshot. Once a large flock flew directly over the 

 stand, so near that we could see their eyes and hear the 

 sharp whistling of their wings. Silently we crouched in 

 the bottom of the stand, and managed to escape their 

 notice, for presently they wheeled, and shutting their 

 wings, dropped gracefully to the decoys, but even as we 

 reached for our guns the sharp report of a gun in a neigh- 

 boring stand rung out, and the ducks turned and sped 

 away on startled wings. We sprang to our feet and took 

 a flying shot, but we were too badly rattled to shoot well, 

 and stopped no birds. 



We lingered under the shadow of the pines long after 



all probability of another opportunity presenting itself 

 had passed away; lingered because we were loth to leave 

 the scene of so much pleasure: lingered because we hated 

 to lay aside the wild freedom of the camp and go back to 

 the monotonous routine of civilized life, unwilling to 

 forego the pleasures of the chase, the pleasant evenings 

 passed before the camp-fire, the sweet refreshing sleep 

 that - 'knits up the ravelled sleeve of care,'' and when the 

 last souni that falls upon the ear before sinking into the 

 land of dreams is the low sweet music of the wind among 

 the treetops or the gentle murmuring of the waves 

 upon some pebbly shore. 



But all things come to an end, and as the sun mounted 

 high in the heavens we drove in the decoys, made all 

 snug and tidy about camp, then taking our guns, em- 

 barked in our little craft and pulled silently across to 

 the mainland. As we turned for a last look at ovu- late 

 camping place and for a last breath of the pine-laden air, 

 the soft wind came lightly dancing over the placid sur- 

 face of the lovely pond, reflecting the bright rays of the 

 sun in a myriad' sparkiing hues which were finally lost 

 under the dark shadows of the pines, which for centuries 

 have skirted Coleman's Island's lonely shore. 



Scudder. 



Falmouth, Mass. 



AMONG THE ELK. 



GALLATIN VALLEY, Mont., Dec. 22.— 1 have always 

 wanted to kill an elk, particularly a bull elk; more- 

 over I promised my brother before I left my Eastern 

 home that I would send him a pah- of elk antlers for a 

 hat-tree when he should begin housekeeping on his own 

 hook, being struck by their natural adaptability to such 

 uses. 



Consequently, when I and my two companions started 

 out on our fall hunt, about the end of September, we 

 turned our horses' noses toward the already hoary peaks 

 of the Gallatin Range, where I knew a man could reason- 

 ably count on seeing elk in quantities to suit, as well as 

 all other game native to the Rocky Mountains, with the 

 exception of goats. 



Bon-owing a wagon we piled our outfit in with care 

 (and it filled the wagon box pretty full), and rolled out of 

 Bozeman in high spirits. The" folio sving evening we 

 reached the end of the wagon road in the West Gallatin 

 canon, where we unloaded the wagon, and with it I 

 started back to the valley, taking with me a saddle to 

 come back on. When I joined the boys on the next day 

 I found them fishing with some success, but they said 

 they had seen not a sign of game, and did not believe 

 there was any in the country, but I assured them that 

 there was last year any way, as I was up the river myself 

 at the time. But to tell the truth meat was scarce in our 

 camp for about a week; but of fish we had plenty, both 

 trout and whitefish, whenever we chose to catch them. 



The night before we started up the pack trail we had 

 the misfortune to lose one of our horses by his getting his 

 hind foot fast in the picket rope around his neck, and 

 choking to death. This left us rather pinched for trans- 



{)ortation, and we had to cache some of the grab and 

 eave it. Prospects continued discouraging as we jour- 

 neyed through the canon for two days, when we reached 

 the Lower Basin. Here the feed was good and the hills 

 looked more promising, so we took possession of a 

 deserted logging camp and turned the horses out. We all 

 three then sallied forth in different directions, feeling 

 sure we could run on to big game the first thing, but at 

 night one brought in a snowshoe rabbit, another a moun- 

 tain grouse, and the third nothing but a l)ig appetite. 

 All had seen plenty of fresh deer and elk sign, and each 

 had felt pure the others would be more successful than 

 himself. Thus several days passed away before we killed 

 anything, and right glad we Avere to bring a fat blacktail 

 doe into camp, and mighty good the meat tasted, but 

 who does not enjoy venison of his own killing and cook- 

 ing? 



Of my first shot at an elk I am almost ashamed to tell. 

 I had been climbing and creeping around all day on a 

 timbered hillside that was just one maze of paths made 

 by the elk, and in many places I could plainly see the 

 imprint where some big bull had lain through the heat of 

 the day in a spring or mud hole. Many little trees were 

 twisted up and stripped of their branches where they had 

 been trying their newly-grown horns, but not one could 

 I catch sight of, and when a flock of blue grouse jumped 

 up and lit in a tall red fir, I couldn't resist knocking the 

 heads off two, when I started for camp, thinking of 

 course that my two shots would certainly alarm all the 

 game in the neighborhood. Not so, however, for I soon 

 ran on to three or four elk standing on a steep and thickly 

 wooded slope, apparently asleep. I was within 60yds. 

 before I caught sight of them, and I thought I should 

 now surely be enabled to see how elk meat tasted. Their 

 heads being hidden, as they stood with their tails toward 

 me. I blazed away at the body of the nearest one, aiming 

 as near as might be at his heart. They all started off, 

 and I after them, knife in hand, thinking the one I shot at 

 would surely drop after a few jumps. They stopped 

 presently, and I ran toward them, thinking the wounded 

 animal must surely drop before I got there, when they 

 saw me for the first time, and I plainly saw that my 

 wounded elk was not in that outfit from the way they 

 decamped. 



Long but vainly I searched that hillside for a dead elk, 

 but from that day to this I hold to the belief that that 

 animal turned down hill, hidden by the thick timber, in- 

 stead of running off south with the others; but the boys 

 insist that I must have missed him. However,' I had 

 better success with the next band I ran on to. This time 

 1 saw a big bull lying apparently all alone in a little sage 

 brush park, just as I emerged from the timber; his face 

 was turned toward me, and my best shot appeared to be 

 right at his forehead, but as the distance was somewhat 

 over 100yds., and my Marlin was sighted to 50yds. point 

 blank, I stopped and carefully raised the sight one notch 

 before I fired, thinking I had the dead medicine that 

 time. Well, I was in such a hurry to look under the 

 smoke and see that bullet lay him out that I must have 

 pulled the gun off the' whole sidehill, for, contrary to my 

 expectations, that magnificent animal jumped to "his feet 

 and was turning to make off, when I recovered sufficiently 

 to give him a shot behind the shoulder, when down he 

 went again. At the report of the rifle ten or eleven cows 

 ran into view and paused, panic-struck at the sight of 

 their leader thrashing his horns around in his death 

 agony. 



I loaded again and sighted on the neck of one of these, 



but did not shoot when I reflected that I had killed my 

 head and there was no occasion for further slaughter. 

 So they ran off unharmed, and I ran to bleed my pros- 

 trate game, feeling very much as did Hiawatha when he 

 killed his first buck. I was pleased to find that I had 

 secured a fine pair of antlers, for, although they had but 

 twelve prongs, they were slender, graceful and perfectly 

 symmetrical. I cleaned him, cut out his tusks for tro- 

 phies, and headed for camp, well content with myself 

 and all the world. The boys were pleased, too, as the 

 deer was nigh eaten, and we forthwith caught our horses 

 to pack in the meat, which, quartered up, gave two stout 

 ponies all they could stagger under. The hide and head 

 we lashed on another, the horns reaching within eight 

 inches of the ground on either side. I found that the bul- 

 let had glanced upward upon entering his body, broken 

 his spine just above the shoulders and lodged there; 

 though it struck just opposite the heart, a rib had 

 deflected it from its course. I was shooting up a hill, 

 and when I paced the ground I found it to be 120 good 

 long steps. 



Leaving the elk head and scalp hanging Bafe from 

 mice in the cabin, we started in search of further adven- 

 tures and explorations, being anxious to see the far-famed 

 Henry's Lake country and mighty Snake River. We left 

 the Gallatin Basins under snow, encountered a foot of 

 snow on the divide, and still snowing, but as soon as it 

 became clear enough to see the country ahead, we were 

 much surprised and not at all displeased to find the 

 whole Madison Valley bare and brown before us. I 

 should have liked well to stop and take a bear hunt on 

 the head of Indian Creek (tributary to the Madison) for 

 we saw the tracks of several bears that had evidently 

 been traveling in attendance upon a large herd of elk 

 thereabouts for some time, but in a party of three it is 

 rare to find perfect unanimity of opinion; the others were 

 for moving on. So we crossed and ascended the Madison, 

 and upon gaining the summit of the Reynolds Pass (in 

 the main range of the Rockies) Henry's Lake was in sight, 

 distant four- miles. I wish I dared take space to tell 

 what fun we had here among swans, geese and mallards. 

 We camped for more than a week on the north fork of 

 Snake River, and though we saw no moose, we made the 

 acquaintance of a fish new to us, the salmon trout, a red- 

 meated, black-spotted fish of two or three pounds weight, 

 very abundant in these waters. Ipsarraka. 



Sat/esvxixe, Montana. 



PELEG'S EXPERIENCES. 



III. — HOW JAB HADE TRIBULATION. 



"T HAVE been wondering.'' said Sang the evening of 

 JL the quail hunter's last Fnight in Grinder's Sugar 

 Camp, "whether it would be better for me now that Rot 

 is growing too old for good service, to buy a new dog full 

 grown and trained, or to get a pup and raise and break 

 him myself." 



A good deal of talk followed this remark of Sang's, 

 relating to the age of his dog and of his many good quali- 

 ties, after which the hunt of the day, which had been 

 along the bottoms of Kootz's Fork mainly, where quail 

 in abundance had been found and good bags made, was 

 recounted, when Sang reminding his comrades that his 

 question was unanswered relapsed into silence. Jap re- 

 membering the hint of a story on dog training at the close 

 of Peleg's narrative the previous night and divining that 

 Sang was fishing for another story, fell in with his humor 

 and answered that he "believed he would raise and train 

 Ins own dog." 



"Yes, but isn't it a world of trouble to bring up a pup?" 

 said Sang. 



"Why no, not much," Jap l'eplied. "Bird dog puppies 

 are about as much trouble to bring up as pet lambs, cer- 

 tainly no more." 



"O well, if that is all my mind is made up," said 

 Sang. 



Peleg could stand it no longer. The truth is, he had 

 felt hurt over the treatment Sang had given him the 

 night before, in fact the two nights, and had taken a 

 mental oath that he would under no circumstances suffer 

 himself to be beguiled into a yarn the last night of their 

 stay. But this talk of the two innocents was too much 

 for him. To think of their ignorance of dog raising when 

 he knew so much! He couldn't sit quietly by and listen 

 to such twaddle. If he mustn't talk he could at least 

 walk, and so up he quickly jumped and kicking the fire 

 brands together viciously, he lifted old Jab with the toe 

 of his boot under the pretext that he was appropriating 

 all the fire to his own use, after which exercise he sat 

 down somewhat calmed again. 



"There are many and weighty reasons," said Jap, "why 

 every sportsman should bring up his own dog. Your dog 

 is your satellite — nay more, your reverent worshiper. To 

 him you are the one perfect being, the one of all who can 

 do no wrong thing. Do to Mm what you will, treat him 

 as cruelly as you may, and worshipfully he will continue 

 to lick your hand in love. Now it is all important that 

 he should never know but the one dog deity — yourself. 

 And besides that, the pleasure he will give you iu train- 

 ing will far outweigh any trouble that may come. The 

 truth is, he will grow- up with the children and give no 

 more trouble than a chicken." 



"Did you ever raise one?" asked Peleg, energetically. 



"No." 



"No! I should think not," 



"I am sure," said Sang, "that I don't know experiment- 

 ally, but then I've heard that pups beat the world for mis- 

 chief." 



"Well, you have heard wrong," said Jap, with an air 

 that said plainly, "I know." 



"He has, has he?" broke in Peleg in his most sarcastic 

 tone of voice. "Now I do know. I've tried it, and the 

 man who says they are no trouble — " 



"Lies!" interposed Sang. 



"No. I don't say that. I'm a gentleman at least." 

 "Well, what is your experience? Let us have that," 

 said Sang. 



"Yes, gentlemen, I've had experience, and let me tell 

 you the man who thinks that a pup is as gentle as a lamb 

 and as easy to be brought up as a chicken, will find him- 

 self awfully mistaken when he tries it on as I did. Why, 

 when I got Jab I fancied I would have nothing to do but 

 keep him in scraps from the butcher's shops. My! my! 

 wasn't I mistaken? Why the very second day after I took 

 him home the trouble began. When I went to my dinner 

 Nancy met me at the door with a white lip, and I knew 

 something was up. 'Look 'e there!' said she, pointing to 



