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FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Feb. 3, 1887 



.4 NEW CREEDMOOR, 

 ^T^HE Directors of the National Rifle Association have 

 set about the work of transplanting Creedinoor to 

 a spot where it will not die of neglect. The move conies 

 none too soon. The old Queen's county range is magnifi- 

 cent for its purposes. No such lawn exists anywhere the 

 Avorld over as a pathway for bullets. But it is doomed 

 none the less because it is out of the track of travel. It 

 is a toil and a tax to get there, and the pleasure and profit 

 do not compensate for the outlay. The vicinity of the 

 metropolis has been well canvassed. Lieut. Zalinski, 

 U. S. A. , of the Board, has been a persistent worker in this 

 regard, and he has discovered a plot of 100 acres on Staten 

 Island, where a range he thinks may be established, A 

 cost of 30c. for a round trip ticket and a lapse of half an 

 hour land the visitor within pistol shot of the proposed 

 firing point. Behind the targets that are to be, stretches 

 the shoal waters of New York Bay. Those shoal waters 

 are navigated by fishermen who go out for a day's pleas- 

 ure on the bay and would not care to undergo a bom- 

 bardment. Then, too, it is important, if not imperative, 

 that the targets shall bear away to the north from the 

 firing points, so that the rising or the setting sun may 

 not dazzle and blind the marksman. These and other 

 points will be made clear when the surveyor's map shall 

 be placed before the Directors at their next meeting. 



Some there are who feel a bit of sentiment for the 

 mother range at Creedmoor, who think that it would be 

 a pity and something even of a rude shock to leave the 

 name behind when the new spot is taken as the range of 

 the future. Perhaps it would be a good idea to carry for- 

 ward the name hi some way, to at least embody in the 

 new some reminder of the old range. 



With the new range so convenient as is claimed, it is to 

 be hoped that the military authorities who manage the 

 movements of the guardsmen of this city and Brooklyn 

 may see their way clear to make a more efficient use of it 

 than has been the practice at Creedmoor. Rifle shooting 

 skill is after all a matter of individual skill. Why not, 

 then, recognize this fact in the use of a range, instead of 

 getting the men together in uniform and sending them 

 down in bodies to fritter away a great deal of time and 

 effort in useless formalities and evolutions? Why not 

 arrange it so that each soldier may go down as best 

 suits his convenience, out of uniform if you will? 

 And when he reaches the range, let him find 

 there a shooting master, one who will give his in- 

 dividual attention to the individual soldier, and then 

 something may be done. If a man is never to become a 

 marksman, nor even a tolerable shot (and there are such), 

 the shooting master will soon find it out, and that soldier 

 may be invited to a place among the non-combatants. 

 Some require more teaching than others, and they would 

 get it. A shooting instructor, paid for his services and 

 carefully chosen, might be in attendance on the range 

 five months during the shooting season, and every one of 

 the men in the two brigades, properly identified, could get 

 such advice, coaching and instruction as his condition 

 demanded. 



The Directors hope to see a revival in the popularity of 

 the sport. The endeavor will be to make the new range 

 a resort where all may go for an outing, and where such 

 as wish may shoot. Millionaire Austin Corbin chose to 

 choke Creedmoor out of existence. Millionaire Erastus 

 — Wiman steps in to clear the way for the new National 

 range, where perhaps the opening days may see an inter- 

 national match by Mr. Wiman's fellow-countrymen from 

 Canada against a team from the United States, or per- 

 haps the Queen's birthday may be remembered on this 

 side by something of an appropriately like sort. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream, Pub. Co. 



It would be a great mistake to license a single big-gun 

 on the wildfowl waters of Virginia. The intelligence 

 that a scheme of this sort is on foot may well be received 

 with alarm by every resident of Virginia, and every visi- 

 tor to its coast shooting resorts. The newly organized 

 Virginia Field-Sports Association should give this their 

 attention, and make it their first business to see that the 

 big-gun schemers are balked. 



1 FOREST AND STREAM " FABLE. 

 The Crow and the Scarecrow. 



"~1NCE upon a time a Crow, 

 approaching a Com Field, 

 beheld with terror a Scare- 

 crow of most frightful Mien 

 standing in the middle of 

 it, but coming nearer to it 

 and pulling a few spears of 

 young Corn in the Edge of 

 the Field, saw that it made 

 no movement to stop his 

 Pillage. Then he ventured 

 quite near it, and at last 

 pulled a Hill of Corn that 

 was sprouting at its Feet, while the Scarecrow made no 

 movement whatever. 



"What are you here for?" asked the. Crow, to which the 

 Scarecrow replied, " To protect this Field of Corn 1" 



"Ah ! I see," remarked the Crow, "and if you could but 

 hold out your Hat to receive your Salary, you would make 

 an excellent Game Protector." 



UNOFFICIAL LOG OF THE STELLA.-II. 



JEKYL ISLAND, Ga., Jan. 16.— It was not until the 

 9th of January that we scraped the Charleston mud 

 off oiu- shoes and steamed away for Tybee Roads by the 

 inside route, for the breakers on the bar were too savage 

 for small craft, and our pilot feared a capsize. 



Our memories of the much cracked city will not rate 

 among pleasant reminiscenses. We don't complain of 

 the slight shock in the earthquake line which rocked us 

 gently on the morning of the 5th.' Nor do we blame the 

 place for the abominable weather, which was one contin- 

 uous freezing drizzle for the entire five days of our stay. 

 And it was nobody's fault that we had to go on the dry 

 dock for a new condenser, the old one having broken 

 down completely. But we were forced to put in coal and 

 water; and the coal was wet, dirty stuff, at $7 per ton, 

 while the man who furnished water presented a bill for 

 700 gallons. As the Stella's capacity is only 375 gallons, 

 the Skipper demurred strongly, but could only get the 

 bill reduced to 600 gallons. The charge of $25 for dock- 

 ing the yacht was more than double New York charges. 

 This the Skipper endured with equanimity; but when we 

 were ready to go and the dry dock man presented his bill 

 for another $25 on the ground of "lay days," he was in- 

 clined to kick. It was of no use, however, and he paid 

 the bill, more in sorrow than in anger, I think. What 

 added to the grievance was the fact that, in raising the 

 yacht, they had cramped her so her doors would neither 

 open nor shut. As the locker which held our fluids hap- 

 pened to be shut we were on the dry dock in a double 

 sense. The Skipper worked at the door for an hour try- 

 ing to burgle into his own locker, but it was solid and 

 fast. As he desisted from his efforts and put away the 

 chisel he had been using, he indulged in remarks like 

 this: "I don't approve of earthquakes as a principle, but 

 given the necessity and granting that it is inevitable, can't 

 help thinking that it made rather a sensible selection." 



It was well, on the whole, that we were forced to take 

 the inside route. In going outside you have a waste of 

 tumbling waters on the port beam, and on the starboard 

 a thin ribbon of white sand beach topped with a dark 

 fringe of green-black pines. This and nothing more. 

 On the inside route you pass through the country with a 

 variety of changing scenery. Cotton and rice fields, 

 swamp, marsh, creeks, inlets, sounds and bays, with 

 isolated dwellings of all degrees, from the negro cabin to 

 the pine palace of the planter, with here and there a 

 village or small city. You are also constantly meeting 

 tugs, rafts, small sailing craft, and all styles of small 

 boats. All the rafts and most of the open boats and 

 barges had fires burning on a bed of sand, around which 

 the darkies were huddled with outstretched palms, for 

 the weather was bitterly cold and they were miserably 

 clad. 



Just at dark we came to anchor near the mouth of the 

 North Edisto, and all hands had a night watch below. 



Got under way at 8 A. M. on the 10th and had a fine 

 day's run to Tybee Roads, anchoring after dark in 

 Broad Creek, which is a safe and pleasant anchorage. 



The morning of the 11th was pleasant with light winds, 

 and we stood out to sea for an outside rim to Brunswick, 

 or, rather, Jekyl Island. It proved the pleasantest out- 

 side run of the cruise. All day the sea was smooth and 

 the skies bright, and all day the Stella pegged away 

 rapidly at the Knots, picking them up in a quiet, effective 

 way, that brought us opposite the club house a little after 

 sundown, where we let go our anchor and saluted the 

 club yacht Howland, according to the code in such case 

 made and provided. 



Jekyl Island is historical ground. In ante helium days 

 it yielded a large revenue m sea-island cotton and slaves, 

 and in the olden time was a favorite port for slavers, 

 which could run in around either end of the island, and 

 in case of pursuit by a government vessel, could easily 

 get away by one channel while she was entering by the 

 other. It was on this island that the yacht Wanderer 

 landed the last cargo of negroes ever landed on American 

 shores, and some of their descendants are still living on 

 the island. The Du Bignon family then owned the 

 island, and it was to the elder Du Bignon that the cargo 

 was consigned. The landing was successful, and the 

 Wanderer was turned adrift to be picked up by a 

 revenue cutter, as slavers are occasionally disposed of 

 after a successful middle passage to the Spanish West 

 Indies, even to this day. 



These were golden days for the owners of the island; 

 raising slaves and sea-island cotton for market was coin- 

 ing wealth, and the Du Bignons could five in baronial 

 style. It was not a healthy place for New England 

 Yankees and abolitionists, and none came near the 

 island, save in government vessels. The war changed all 

 this. Slave property melted away before the emancipa- 

 tion proclamation like a June frost, and raising sea-island 

 cotton without slave labor was not a success. The owners 

 of the island fell into a state of decadence, and the de- 

 scendants of the Wanderer's cargo came to the front. 

 They did not care to labor, they had had enough of that. 

 And for a while they did little but fish, hunt and bask in 

 the sunshine. They swarmed on the island and virtually 

 took possession thereof for a time. The Du Bignons had 

 secreted a large quantity of the very best cotton which 

 they succeeded in keeping until it was worth $1 per lb., 

 and this helped out for a. while. But the island ceased to 

 give a revenue, and the family shared the usual fate of 

 wealthy slave owners — they became poor. 



The island was worth little to sell and less to keep, save 

 as a game preserve. For agricultural purposes it would 

 not sell for much more than government price; but, as 

 daily happens in the South, Northern men and Northern 

 capital came to the rescue. A party of rich Northerners 

 formed a club and purchased the island at a cost of 

 $125,000. 



Jekyl island contains about 14,000 acres, and is well 

 stocked with deer and turkeys, with an abundance of 

 wild hogs, wild cattle and even horses. The Jekyl Island 

 Club proposes to kill off the hogs and cattle and give the 

 deer a better chance, and also to stock the island with 

 quail, a project which may succeed if the quail do not 

 prefer to leave for the main land, as very likely they may. 

 I much doubt if they will find the requisite food here; 



and I could not repress a rather broad smile at the propo- 

 sition of one gentleman, to sow buckwheat at various 

 points on the island to "feed the birds." I hope he may 

 live to see a bushel of buckwheat raised on any island ' 

 between Savannah and Key West. When that happens , 

 we shall raise fine crops of bananas on Cape Cod. 



A fine club house is in process of construction at a cost 

 of $50,000, and the brick walls are already up to the 

 fourth story. This, with the club yacht and other etcet- 

 eras will bring the cost of the plant well up to $200,000; 

 and an old woodsman finds it difficult to see why there 

 is more genuine sport in it than in an inexpensive bark 

 camp among the dense forests, and by the cool, clear 

 springs of the Upper Susquehanna. But there is no doubt ; 

 as to its exclusiveness, and I do not care to moralize. The j 

 club has treated us with genial cordiality, gave us the i 

 freedom of the island for shooting, and helped forward 1 

 our views in every way. And if they choose to spend a 

 quarter of a million on shooting grounds and club houses, 

 why they have got it to spend, and the money goes to 

 those who most need it. 



The Captain and the Scribe have been out several times 

 ostensibly to hunt deer, though the Scribe does not be- 

 lieve in a deer hunt that commences after a 9 o'clock 

 breakfast. His wood lore leads him to prefer being on 

 the ground as early as a man can see his sights. 



The Captain, however, succeeded in shooting a couple 

 of wild pigs, which, instead of being red, lank, big-headed, 

 bristly specimens, looked wonderfully like plump, well- 

 fed Berkshires. And the Scribe, who had laiighingly 

 offered to skin all the pigs the Captain could shoot, found 

 himself in for a job. Did you ever skin a pig, or a bear ? 

 If so, you know how it is yourself. The skin will not 

 peel, but must all be cut off with a sharp knife, inch by 

 inch. The Scribe came to time, however, and was re- 

 warded by a square meal of roast pig, fat, tender and 

 delicious, with a distinct gamy flavor. All hands pro- 

 nounced it an improvement on the domestic article, and 

 the Scribe is ready to submit his testimony that wild pork 

 is superior to venison. 



A notable feature of the club grounds is a fine artesian 

 well which gives a constant 4in. stream of pure, clear 

 water, looking, as it runs off in its channel of white sand 

 and white shells, very like a Northern trout stream; but 

 it is only in looks. The water has a temperature of about 

 80°. 



Very pleasant is this loafing and loitering a-down the 

 coast, only if the weather would grow warmer. Last 

 night (the 17th) there was a furious norther and the Stella 

 dragged her anchor, though in a landlocked channel. 

 She was brought up by the best bower, and this morning 

 her decks are again slippery with ice. The Reva (P. Lor- 

 illard's yacht) came to anchor here on the evening of the 

 16th, and the Magnolia is expected hourly. The south- 

 ward bound yachts make haste slowly, and the Stella is 

 no exception. We have been here a week to-day, but 

 shall go, as soon as the norther lets tip, for Fernandina 

 and St. Augustine. Nessmtjk. 



A TRIP TO THE N1ANGUA RIVER. 



ONE bright October morning, a party of four left their 

 home on the bank of the Missouri River, near the 

 central part of the State of Missouri, on a hunting and 

 fishing expedition to the southern part of the State. Our 

 conveyance was a covered spring wagon drawn by a span 

 of mules that would take us over any road. George 

 carried a Richardson shotgun, Charlie a Remington shot- 

 gun and Ballard rifle, and I a Parker. Our camping out- 

 fit was complete, and as we rode along we talked cheer- 

 ily of the trip before us. We traveled east along the 

 bank of the river for a few miles, then turning south 

 crossed the little Saline River and a strip of prairie eight 

 miles wide, and came to the Moniteau River, where we 

 stopped for dinner and a little rest. At Tipton we crossed 

 the Missouri Pacific Railway and following the road due 

 south arrived at the Moreau River early in the evening, , 

 where we camped for the night. We saw some game , 

 during the day, but had said we would not fire a gun the 

 first day out. At supper w r e cleaned up about all the 

 lunch, so it was a case of necessity to catch or kill some- 

 thing for the next meal. 



In the morning Charlie and George went after squirrels 

 and I tried the stream for fish. In a couple of hours I 

 caught twenty small sunfish and one half-pound bass. 

 While I was cleaning the fish the boys came in with 

 three squirrels and one pigeon. All was soon prepared for 

 the pan, and when cooked we sat down to a royal feast. 



From this point to Versailles, the county seat of 

 Morgan, the country is rolling prairie, and we passed 

 many fine farms and herds of cattle. Rabbits and quail 

 were abundant, and some of the latter were knocked over 

 for future use. At Versailles we leave the prairie and 

 come almost at once into the Osage hills. The timber we 

 pass through is chiefly oak, there is scarcely any under- 

 brush, and the woods have the appearance of a cultivated 

 park. A hard, flinty rock seems to be everywhere, and it 

 was a matter of wonder to us how such rocky soil pro- 

 duced fine timber and grass. 



We camped that night on the bank of a little stream 

 called the Proctor. Just before we readied there, a gang 

 of turkeys ran across the road ahead of us, but we could 

 not get a shot, Charlie marked the spot, and I knew the 

 dawning of the morning would find him there. The next 

 morning, finding the Proctor too muddy to do any fishing, 

 I went after squirrels. A quarter of a mile to the south 

 was the Osage River, and to the north a short distance 

 was a ledge of limestone 100ft. high, which extended 

 along the valley for some distance without a break, 

 except where the Proctor came through, It was a fine 

 morning, and the squirrels were out in full force to enjoy 

 the fresh air and their breakfast of hickory nuts, I was 

 sorry to break in upon their picnic, but we had to have 

 something to eat. 



When I reached camp the boys were already in, bring- 

 ing with them a fine young turkey which George had 

 shot. 



After a hearty breakfast of our own providing, we were 

 once more on the road, which led through the valley for 

 a short distance and then up a steep hill a mile long. 

 Gaining the ridge we found we were in one of the numer- 

 ous horse-shoe bends common to the Osage River. At 

 the foot of the hill on the right, the river ran directly west ■ 

 and on the left directly east. Following the ridge for a I 

 few miles and down a long hill, we came to Crittenden, a/ 

 little town named in honor of the Governor of the State,! 

 where we were taken across the Osage hi a flat boat, il 



