82 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Feb. 24, 1887; 



cured by the fraud of the plaintiff, they were not liable; 

 that as the company had forbidden their agents to accept 

 these goods and as the plaintiff knew of it, the agent had 

 no authority to bind the company; that the seizure of the 

 goods at Bangor was by lawful authority which the com- 

 pany was not called upon to resist, and that failure so to 

 resist was not the "fraud or gross negligence" for which 

 alone the defendants were to be liable under the special 

 contract of the express receipt. Upon the first two 

 grounds the Court found in favor of the defendants, and 

 Darling has decided not to carry the matter any 

 further. From all which it appears that if you want to 

 test the validity of an express regulation you must begin 

 in some other way than by deceiving their agents into 

 violating it. 



SNAP SHOTS. 

 TTOW old must a man be to lose interest and pleasure 

 in the field? The Canadian correspondent who 

 wrote last week of "Seafowl Shooting at Berwick" tells 

 us that though now seventy-six years of age and no longer 

 equal to the exertion of ranging the woods in pursuit of 

 game he can still take his place at the trap and make fair 

 scores at glass balls and other targets. And there is Pres- 

 ident Grevy, of France, eighty years of age, who makes 

 good bags in his holiday shoots at Marly, and who, his 

 friends think, could successfully compete for a prize at a 

 pigeon shooting. 



"The Turkey Shoot at Hamner's," which is a sequel to 

 the first (not last) part of "Sam Lovel's Thanksgiving," 

 is in hand and will be given in an early number. We 

 take the liberty of printing this appreciative mention 

 of the series, contained in a letter from Dr. J. H. Baxter, 

 Chief Medical Purveyor, U. S. A., Washington: "I am 

 deputed by Senator Piatt, of Connecticut; Senator Fry, of 

 Maine; Hon. Wm. Steward, M. C, of Vermont, and 

 many other friends, who come weekly to my house to 

 listen to the reading of "Sam Lovel" and "Uncle Lisha," 

 to thank you for resuming the publication of these 

 sketches. For beauty of description and perfectness of 

 dialect we have never seen their equal, and we beg that 

 you will continue then- publication." 



The generous extracts which we take from the recent 

 reports of army officers detailed to the various militia 

 camps, together with a similar article about a year ago in 

 our columns, will give the reader a very good idea of 

 what the arming of the uniformed militia of the country 

 really amounts to. The exhibit is not altogether a pleas- 

 ing one. There are but few States provided with a decent 

 arm, and fewer still making anything like a proper use of 

 them. The authorities cannot hide behind the bulwark 

 of ignorance of the condition of affairs, for the reports 

 made are full, explicit and reliable. 



Major Merrill's paper on the trajectory test, which has 

 been printed in our gun columns, will repay very careful 

 study; it is a valuable exposition of facts relating to the 

 flight of rifle balls. The Major should have credit for 

 his lucid exposition of the laws of projectiles, a subject to 

 which he has given much study, and the literature of 

 which, outside of the text-books, is meagre; indeed it 

 wotdd be difficult to find anywhere a clearer explanation 

 than his own of the trajectory curve with its relation to 

 the line of sight and the axis of the bore. 



Among the clubs which have memorialized the House 

 of Representatives, praying for the passage of the Na- 

 tional Park Bill, are the following: Nimrod Club, Newark, 

 N. J. ; Middlesex County Association for the Protection 

 of Fish and Game, Middletown, Conn. ; Bismarck (Dak.) 

 Gun Club; Hudson (Wis.) Rod and Gun Club and Game 

 Protective Association; Poorman's Spring Fishing Club, 

 Harrisburg, Pa. 



The account of Mr. Batelle's experiments in raffed 

 grouse domestication is very instructive, and his paper 

 will rank as a novel and important addition to the litera- 

 ture of wild bird captivity. It is to be hoped that further 

 experiments may be made in the same direction. 



Trap-shooting affairs are taking a lively turn. More 

 pigeons are raised for trap-shooting now than ever before 

 in this country; and the consumption of artificial substi- 

 tutes is assuming enormous proportions. 



Subscribers who may chance to receive mutilated or 

 defective copies will confer a favor by returning them to 

 this office, and others will be supplied in exchange. 



The ardent gunners who go shooting in close time 

 appear to have a peculiar knack of blowing each other's 

 heads off. 



Is it a sign of the times that gun and target manu- 

 facturers are publishing testimonials from champion girl 

 shots. 



Wild geese flying north honk the coming of spring. 



Ohio has a new trap shooter's league. 



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



THE CRUISE OF THE HIRONDELLE,— II. 



BY J. M. LE MOINE. 



THE yacht was careening over under a stiff westerly 

 breeze; the flood tide had just turned; an experi- 

 enced old yachtsman, Mac of the Isles, held the helm. 

 The low rocky shores of Seal Rock were fast disappear- 

 ing as the Hirondelle, close reefed, plowed merrily through 

 the surf in the direction of St. Jean, Port Joly Church. 

 To the north a flock of silvery gulls were disporting them- 

 selves in the shallows, wliile the descending orb of day 

 shed his mild radiance on the leaping waters. 



"Pass around the Garcias," sung out the Commodore 

 to the cabin boy, "Let us have a glorious smoke before 

 casting anchor at McPherson's House, Crane Island." 



"We have plenty of time before reaching there," re- 

 plied the Antiquary, "suppose, most illustrious Commo- 

 dore, you give us one of your jolly hunting stories, an 

 account of the grande chasse cVautomne you made with 

 the lamented Luc Le Tellier at Sorel." 



"Well, gentlemen, be it so, light your cigars and give 

 me your attention. 



"The famed hunting resorts," said the Commodore, 

 "about fifty-five miles lower than Montreal, on the St. 

 Lawrence, and one hundred and twenty-five above Quebec, 

 are known to Quebec and Montreal chasseurs as the lies 

 de Sorel. These islands and surroundings are the favor- 

 ite feeding grounds of the snipe and various kinds of 

 plover, curlew, woodcock and other beach birds, as well 

 as several varieties of ducks, the black or dusky duck, 

 redhead, divers or fall ducks, blue and green- winged teal, 

 in fact all the aquatic birds frequenting the fresh waters 

 of the Province of Quebec. Sorel Islands consist of lie 

 du Moine, He des Barques, He a la Pierre, He de Grace, 

 He du Pads, lie St. Jean, He aux Grues, He aux Ours and 

 many others less noted, the Commune de Tamachiche, la 

 Baie Febvre, les Baies de Maskinonge et de Yamachiche, 

 with the miles of reeds which skirt Lake St. Peter on 

 both shores as well as the islands, some of which are cov- 

 ered with soft maples and other deciduous trees, while 

 the others are simply reedy islands, when the water is 

 very low, and at other times completely flooded. On the 

 higher lands, which are commons under the control of 

 the municipalities, the farmers of the vicinity allow their 

 young cattle, horses and hogs to run wild. The latter, 

 being much given to feed upon the bulb of a variety of 

 reeds, root them up, making bare patches, which are 

 capital feeding grounds for snipe. One, however, needs 

 a quick eye to mark a bird down, should he drop into the 

 high reeds or wild hay near by, or the service of a first- 

 class retriever, else one is sure to lose many more birds 

 than are brought to bag. 



"On the sandy point of some of these islands, such as 

 the Pointe au Peoaud or He au Sable, flocks of golden 



E lover, curlew or beach birds may be often found, and 

 ite in the fall numbers of Canada geese on their journey 

 to the south, light and feed in the bays and even in the 

 fields back on the higher lands. When the ice breaks up 

 in the spring, thousands of muskrats are slaughtered by 

 the inhabitants. Some have been known to kill in one 

 season 200, with a simple weapon — an iron spike fastened 

 to a pole — to pry the rodents out of then: winter quarters, 

 disturbed by the motion of the ice, lifted from its winter 

 bed by the rush of the waters during spring freshets. 



"In October, 1866, I visited the Islands of Sorel, accom- 

 panied by Lieut. Montgomery and Ensign Lane of the 

 Rifle Brigade, one of H. M.'s crack regiments, then quar- 

 tered in the favorite garrison town, Quebec. Last even- 

 ing, just twenty years later, one of the party, now Lieut. - 

 Col. Lane, on his return from British Columbia to Halifax, 

 where he is now stationed as military secretary to the 

 Commander-in-Chief, Lord Alexander Russell, burst into 

 my sanctum where I was enjoying a quiet smoke, and 

 related to me his sporting adventures, since the capital 

 sport he and I had enjoyed on that memorable occasion 

 when we tramped through the marshes at Sorel, bagging 

 one hundred and fifty snipe in two days to our three guns, 

 and bringing back a champagne basket full of birds. We 

 had listened to the stories of the French Canadian guides, 

 anent the marvelous bags of snipe, woodcock and duck 

 got by the late Colonel Alphonse De Salaberry, Judge 

 Coursol, W. H. Kerr, Harry King, Fred Austin and hosts 

 of others who flocked each season to these islands. Well 

 do I remember the snug quarters on one of these beauti- 

 fully wooded spots, for many years the favorite hunting 

 box of Judge Coursol and his friends, with its rows of 

 nails all around well under the eaves of the roof, hanging 

 from which could be seen bunches of snipe, woodcock, 

 duck and plover, placed there in the shade and cool air 

 for preservation, and my own cosy quarters in a room of 

 the He au Raisin or He a la Pierre lighthouse. 



"Of the old guides of those days one is still hale and 

 hearty and happy to lead a party to the haunts of game. 

 Maxime Monjeau, of He du Moine, although now near his 

 70th year, covered with silvery locks, can yet handle a 

 paddle and bring down a duck when it comes to his decoys 

 in La Baie du Moine (opposite his little shooting cabin 

 annually set up on the edge of the island, and where he 

 happily passes his days, having handed over to his sons 

 his home, further west on the He du Moine). He con- 

 tinues to enjoy the sports to which he is so devot- 

 edly attached. Another, poor old Baptiste Martel, of 

 La Baie du Febvre, now fully eighty years of age, still 

 talks and dreams of the day when he tracked the grizzly 

 bear in the Rocky Mountains, where he spent twenty-five 

 years of his earlier life in the employ of the American 

 Fur Company as a voyageur. Upon his giving up this 

 occupation, with his hard earned savings, he purchased a 

 home and a few acres of land near his native village, and 

 tried to settle down to the toils of a small farmer's life, 

 but he could never thoroughly do so. He would cheer- 

 fully drop the spade or hoe, and conduct the sportsmen 

 from Quebec or Montreal to the woodcock coverts on the 

 uplands, or snipe marshes of the renowned Baie du 

 Febvre. He is now very feeble. I was recently told by 

 a neighbor of his that last summer the poor old man 

 begged his son to drive him to the old duck grounds 

 bordering the lake that he might once more feast his eyes 

 on the beloved haunts of other days. He was carefully 

 seated in a cart well filled with straw, and slowly driven 

 down to the lake shore, which cheered him up wonder- 



fully. He asked his son to stop the horse, and stretching 

 out his withered arm pointed out the many spots so dear 

 to his memory, rapidly relating his exploits with the 

 many gentlemen he had guided over the spot, and the 

 big bags of game they had shot. Feeling weak and tired 

 the poor old chasseur completely broke down; in sobbing 

 words he bade farewell to the loved spot, and was conveyed 

 home, as he said, to prepare himself for another world. 

 Poor old Baptiste, how often have I followed him over the 

 coverts and what glorious sporting hours we have spent 

 together! 



"Of the other guides of twenty years ago, one was a 

 remarkable character called Charlo Paul, a capital fel- 

 low when not given too much spirits. He has now 

 joined the ' great majority ' doubtless in better hunting 

 grounds— gathered to his fathers. Charlo did not live to 

 the ripe old age of Maxime or Baptiste, no doubt owing 

 to his love for strong waters to which they were not so 

 much addicted, and evidently live the longer in conse- 

 quence. 



" Twenty years ago among the islands and bays below 

 Sorel, large and varied bags of game could be made. On 

 more than one occasion a brother sportsman and myself 

 have been the fortunate possessors, after three or four 

 days of shooting, of as many as 40 to 50 ducks, 60 to 70 

 English snipe, and 30 to 40 golden and other plover, and 

 have come home thoroughly revived in health and 

 spirits. 



"On one occasion I had the honor of having the. 

 lamented Hon. Luc Le Tellier de St. Just, then Lieutenant 

 Governor of the Province of Quebec, as my guest, our 

 quarters being in the lighthouse at the east end of L'He 

 a la Pierre. It was during a week's living in one small 

 room with this renowned politician, that one learned to 

 love him as few men have been loved by their own sex. 

 On this occasion our bags of ducks numbered among 

 us, namely: the Governor, his Aid-de-camp, Capt. F. E. 

 Gauthier; his cousin, P. B. Casgrain, MP., and myself, 

 from 40 to 50 ducks per day, and some snipe shot by me. 

 It was on this memorable occasion that the Governor of 

 the Province of Quebec and companions narrowly 

 escaped with their lives. The popular and always oblig- 

 ing Captain Labelle, then in command of the "steamer 

 Quebec, plying between Montreal and the city of Quebec, 

 had offered to stop his boat and take us off the island on 

 his way down when we would desire it. We despatched 

 a messenger early one day to Sorel, about seven miles off, 

 to notify him that we would be all ready when he would 

 pass that evening, and to request him to please stop his 

 boat to take us on board. By some means the message 

 was not delivered to Captain Lebelle. We, however, not 

 knowing this, made our preparations, got all our baggage, 

 game, dogs and ourselves with the lighthouse-keeper and 

 one man, in a small boat, very much overloaded, but as we 

 only intended going out a short distance in the shallow 

 water to meet the steamer's boat which we expected would 

 draw too much water to come near the shore, we did not 

 fear any danger from swamping. We saw the steamer 

 about 9 o'clock at night coming full speed, evidently pay- 

 ing no attention to us, when we actively swung a lighted 

 lantern to and fro to draw attention. After the steamer 

 had passed us the captain was evidently informed of our 

 attempts to stop her; knowing the Governor was of the 

 party, he ordered the boat to stop and reverse, the channel 

 being too narrow to turn her. The Governor, with his 

 usual anxiety to give as little trouble as possible when he 

 was personally concerned, insisted upon our attempting 

 to reach the steamer by the man sculling our boat out to 

 her. This, against our advice, was done. The current 

 being very strong, and the huge wheels of the steamer 

 churning the water against it, created a strong eddy, 

 which drew us under the guards of the steamer. Being 

 in the forepart of the boat, I caught hold of one of the 

 paddles of the wheel and with difficulty hung on to its 

 slimy surface. The Governor received a very severe blow 

 on the head from one of the stays which nearly stunned 

 him, and we greatly feared our boat would swamp as it 

 filled with water. One man completely lost his presence 

 of mind and dropped the oar overboard; to the great 

 strength and coolness of the Governor we owed our lives. 

 He called for a ladder. This being let down, we rapidly 

 mounted it just in time to escape from being crushed by 

 the great wheel, which was immediately after set in 

 motion; fortunately the boat containing the lighthouse 

 keeper and our luggage had drifted away from danger, 

 and eventually was propelled ashore. When we reached 

 the cabin, we found we were much bruised but not seri- 

 ously hurt; our clothing was covered with slime; we 

 presented a sad appearance. Means were taken to give 

 as little publicity as possible to this incident. Tins was 

 the last shooting expedition of Governor Le Tellier de 

 St. Just. Some months after his health broke down; 

 he soon after died, sincerely regretted by all who inti- 

 mately knew him. His gun, an excellent 10-bore, was 

 sold by me to Judge G. P. Hawes, of New York, who, I 

 believe, still retains it. 



"I fear I have digressed very much from the subject of 

 describing the shooting grounds of Sorel. I can only say 

 that occasionally fine bags of snipe, woodcock and ducks 

 are still made there, but I find that the number of the 

 disciples of the gun, since the past twenty years, have 

 wonderfully increased, as wed among the amateur sports- 

 men who shoot for the pleasure of an outing, as the pot- 

 hunter who slaughters game night and day for the 

 market. 



"Snipe are such capricious birds that one can occasion- 

 ally make as large bags as formerly, but not so often. 

 Woodcock are very- much more scarce. As to black or 

 dusky ducks, mallard and wood ducks and teal, the great 

 number destroyed at night on then- feeding grounds has 

 been the cause of driving these valuable birds to other 

 and safer quarters. The pot-hunter chooses a favorite 

 spot among the reeds which extend out on the shallows 

 for nearly a mile from shore; with a sickle he cuts off the 

 heads of the reeds, well under water, in a space large 

 enough to make an open water basin of about 30 to 40yds. 

 diameter. On the edge of this basin he plants a number 

 of trees in front and on each side of his log canoe or dug- 

 out, which he carefully conceals, and then sets out in the 

 most natural order from ten to twelve live ducks fastened 

 by a string, with a soft leather loop to a leg and anchored 

 with a stone or half a brick in about 3ft. of water. These 

 ducks, which are a cross between a wild black duck and 

 an equally black domestic one, make perfect decoys, and 

 call any passing birds to them and to sure destruction. 



"On both sides of Lake St. Peter such caches may be 

 found occupied by one or two pot-hunters every three or 



