March 24, 1887.J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



179 



miration. Thus we worked together with mutual and 

 implicit confidence, Jim roamed at will and scanned the 

 hill}' landscape, confident that where I was there would 

 the trail be also, while I left him to follow his own devices, 

 knowing right well that not so much as a tomtit could 

 shake his tail within half a mile but my hawk-eyed chum 

 would see it and know the reason why. Tims it was that 

 all day Jim and I kept sight of the deer, now closing on 

 then i and once or twice getting- Jong shots, but, still with- 

 out any sanguinary results, for they were too thoroughly 

 alarmed and on the alert to permit a near approach in the 

 open country through which they led us. 



.Now. lest, my patient hearer should think as 1 once did, 

 judging from pictures, that it is an easy enough thing to 

 'see a deer a quarter of a mile away. I must remind him 

 that the animal itself is just as careful to keep among t he 

 scrub which it so closely resembles in color as the artist 

 is usually to depict it in' startling black on a snowy back- 

 ground. My original idea of a buck 300yds. away was 



something like this, while the real thing may be faintly 

 suggested by the second rough sketch. It may be well to 



explain here that tin- deer is in the center. The antlered 

 thing to the right being an oak tree. 



The next day, No. 5, Jim could not come, but we had 

 the luck to start my old buck, almost immediately. 

 What a grand old fellow he was. his antlers spread 

 abroad like a grove of oaks, or in the homelier words of 

 a settler, "like a rocking chair.*' He was wild and cun- 

 ning, too, but he Avas not by any means an athlete. I 

 stepped his bounds at twenty different places and always 

 found them 5yds., very small for an adult "jumping 

 deer." for I have frequently known does to bound 7, 8, 9, 

 or even 10yds. But what this old monarch lacked in 

 speed he made up in cunning. We followed until noon 

 without again seeing him; my comrades then camped 

 for dinner"; I. however, felt the spirit of unrest and 

 pushed on, hoping to get a chance, for I could see that 

 the buck was very fat and, in consequence, short-winded. 

 He had already run several miles and would, doubtless, 

 soon lie down io rest on a hillside, as is usual with the 

 species. In several places I saw where he had climbed a 

 high hill to scan the landscape for his foes and thereby f 

 knew that he was about to rest very soon. I avoided fol- 

 lowing his track over these hills, always going round and 

 taking it up again in the hollows: at length itTed me to a 

 dense bed of saplings, in traversing which it was impossi- 

 ble to move without some noise. After crawling through 

 a quarter of a mile of it I came on his "bed," and also 

 the tracks which showed unmistakably that he had 

 heard me and had bounded away hi alarm some minutes 

 before. I went back to camp, but afterward Oliver and I 

 followed hini till dark, seeing him once only, when we 

 had an opportunity of noting his fat sides shake as with 

 his heavy short bounds, he made o F er the hills again to 

 seek safety in a combination of speed and stratagem. 



There is in Europe now a very prominent school of 

 artists who call themselves impressionists. They hold 

 that what we want immortalized in a picture is not the 

 bare, bald, cold facts of the case, but our own impression 

 of it. That, they say, is the real truth, and it alone is 

 worthy of preservation. Now. with this tenet in my 

 mind," when I got home I made a sketch of the old buck, 



and feel very sure that the reader will find in if far more 

 newness and interest than any cold matter-of-fact repre- 

 sentation possibly could offer. 



Next day we took up the trail where we left off, and 

 found that at the place where we had gone astray the 

 night before, the deer had stopped suddenly, then care- 

 fully had gone backward, stepping in bis own tracks for 

 twenty yards, after which he had bounded off to one 

 side. This trick he had played thrice, and several times 

 he watched from a high hill before he lay down for the 

 night, and when he did so he selected for his bed the top 

 of a hill so situated that any hunter following his trail 

 would be obliged to pass within hearing long before com- 

 ing near him. After lying here for an hour or so he had 

 evidently gone further and finished his resting in a 

 tract of woods. After leaving this in the morning he 

 stepped exactly in the stale tracks of another deer for 

 some distance and then at length bounded to one side. 

 All of these doublings were patiently unravelled, but at 

 length, aided by a driving snowstorm, he gave us the 

 slip on a hard trodden runway, and I was grieved indeed 

 to own up that I was beaten 'entirely by "the buck with 

 the rocking chair." I had coveted his head with my 

 whole heart, for never before had I seen such antlers on 

 a mule deer. 



Two days after, in company with two of them, I scoured 

 the whole of this region, without seeing even one fresh 

 track. We slept out though it was 14° below zero, and 

 passed another day in fruitless searching. This damped 

 the ardor of my companions to such an extent that they 

 decided to give it up, and I returned with them to pre- 

 pare for a more extended expedition. 



Ernest E . Thompson. 



BRUIN IN THE CANEBRAKE. 



A SHORT time ago I spent a night in the same house 

 with Mr. R. E. Bobo, the famous bear hunter of 

 Coahoma county. Mississippi. I had long desired an op- 

 portunity to hear 1 rim recount some of his bear-hunting 

 adventures, and though I had written to him on the sub- 

 ject could never get any response. Mr. Bobo is inclined 

 to be reticent about his hunting exploits, as he is fre- 

 quently questioned by newspaper men and others upon 

 the subject, and disliking to incur the suspicion of "draw- 

 ing the long bow" in hunting yarns, is hard to draw out. 

 On the occasion mentioned, knowing me to be one of the 

 '•brotherhood," and under the relaxing influence of a 

 moderate horn of "Nelson county," or some similar vin- 

 tage, lie related some interesting reminiscences. 



Mr. Bobo was the first white child born in Coahoma 

 county. He is now forty years old, was born in the cane- 

 brakes and has lived in them nearly all his life. He is a 

 man of fine physique and capable of encountering any 

 degree of exposure and physical exercise. He is a pros- 

 perous planter and owns many acres of rich cane lands. 

 The Mississippi Valley Railroad was built three years ago 

 through his plantation, and the new railroad station 

 called Bobo is near his residence. His hospitable roof 

 gives shelter alike to friend and stranger, to hunter and 

 wayfarer, and there is always room for one more, no 

 matter how many have arrived before. Mrs. Bobo, a 

 charming matron, in the absence of the great bear hunter, 

 dispenses the hospitalities of her home with a graceful 

 and bounteous hand, as this writer can testify from per- 

 sonal experience. When I stopped at his house last fall, 

 on a professional tour, the genial host was 20 miles away 

 in the Hushpuckana swamp, with a party of gentlemen 

 from the North, whom he was entertaining and whom 

 he was initiating into the mysteries of bear hunting in 

 the Mississippi cauebrakes. There is a fine photograph 

 in his parlor, sent by some Northern sportsman who had 

 been down on a bear hunt. The hunters are leaning on 

 their rifles around a dead bear, which the negro cook is 

 about to dissect with bis butcher knife. 



Mr. Bobo ran away from home at the age of 16 to join 

 the Southern army. He was one of Forest's cavalrymen, 

 and was one of the boldest followers of a bold leader. He 

 served four years, and came out of the war still almost a 

 boy, with the scars of several wounds. 



But for the hunting reminiscences. Having gotten his 

 tongue loosened Mr. Bobo gave me several. I asked him 

 how many bears he had really killed in one day. 1 had 

 heard various statements of the number, and a newspaper 

 had said twenty-seven. Said he. "The way that was, the 

 editor asked me the question and Ru Page, who was 

 standing by, said, 'Tell him anything, say twenty-seven,' 

 and so lie printed it." •'But how many did you kill, Mi-. 

 lioboV" I asked. He said, "There were nine bears killed 

 in one day before my dogs. I did not kill them all, as I 

 gave most of flie shots to others." "Were there any cubs 

 among them?' I asked. "No. they were all good-sized 

 bears. " he said. "I have seen many contradictory state- 

 ments about the weight of bears. How heavy was the largest 

 bear you ever killed?' "I killed one which, without the 

 entrails, weighed 71 libs. T killed him at night in the corn- 

 field about half a mile from the house. We took down the 

 express wagon to bring him home, but four of us couldn't 

 put him in, so we tied him to the hind axle and dragged 

 him to the house. How much do you suppose she bears 

 will average in weight?' "About 3001bs.," I ventured. 

 "They won't average over 150." lie said. 



Mr. Bobo said: "I have a stepbrother whose name is 

 Curt Clark. We are about the same age. My father 

 married his mother when we were very young and we 

 have always been exactly as brothers. We have been in 

 t he woods together all our li ves. One year, I think in 

 1869, we had rented out a farm and spent nearly the 

 entire time out in the swamp. We didn't come oiit for 

 three months at a time, but had a couple of negroes with 

 us, and sent them out for what we needed. We kept a 

 memorandum of the game we killed and the score stood 

 thus: Bears, 304: deer, 54: wildcats, 47; panthers, 9. One 

 season I killed 150 bears before my dogs and lost oidy 

 two runs. 



"I will tell you a thing I don't like to tell because it 

 seems improbable. But there were plenty of witnesses, 

 and it was a very simple thing the way we managed. It 

 was Christinas time, and Curt Clark and I went out into 

 the woods with half a dozen negroes on a kind of a lark. 

 The dogs I reed a large panther. When we came to the 

 tree I remarked: 'Let's catch him alive and tie him? I 

 explained my design and made one of the men cut a long 

 stout pole. One of the negroes, a strong fellow, agreed 

 to manage one end of the pole if 1 would the other. I 

 then directed one of the men, who had a shotgun, to 

 shoot the panther in the end of the tail, which he did. 

 The animal sprang out of the tree and the moment he 

 struck the ground all the dogs were on him. I had the 

 pole ready and laid it across his neck. The negro was in 

 position and promptly sat down on the. other end. We 

 held him down without difficulty, while the others tied 

 his legs together. Curt Clark had his hands badly clawed 

 in the operation. We placed a rope around his neck with 

 a noose and tied Mm to a tree. He became sullen and 

 wouldn't show off at all, as we had hoped. When we 

 poked the side of his head, he would turn it the other 

 way. Two of the negroes volunteered to carry him home, 

 several miles distant. A pole was passed between his 

 legs, which were all four tied together, and they carried 

 him about a mile, when one of his feet got loose. They 

 dropped him in alarm, and he made such savage demon- 

 strations that we killed him. 



"On one occasion Curt and I went into the woods, 

 taking two negroes with us, to cut a hack (a blazed line) 

 as a guide in hunting. We agreed not to take our guns 

 as they would be in the way, and probably divert us 

 from the business we were upon. After a while one of my 

 dogs came to us. Then another, and another, until there 

 were half a dozen. As we proceeded with our hack, we 

 crossed a fresh bear track, and the dogs gave chase. 

 They treed the bear quite near us. We went to the tree 

 and saw that it was a large bear. The sun was only two 



hours high and we were five or six miles from home. 

 Curt Clark, who was a regular dare-devil, said, 'Bob, 

 let's kill him with our knives? I was a much younger 

 man thtfn, and equal to anything, so I agreed. The 

 negroes 'promised to stand by with their axes. We pulled 

 a grapevine, which caused him to come down the tree. I 

 expected to kill hini at the first blow, standing behind 

 his back as his hindfeet touched the ground. But my 

 knife struck a rib and did not penetrate. Instantly we 

 were all in a promiscuous pile. Curt and I, the dogs and 

 bear, in a rough-and-tumble fight. The negroes ran 

 away. Curt aud i used our knives for all that was in 

 them. Curt tripped and fell on his back. The bear was 

 on top of him. He gave me a look which said, 'it all de- 

 pends on you, now? 1 would rather the bear had killed 

 me than Curt , t made a desperate lunge and struck his 

 heart with my knife. He was already badly wounded, 

 and sank down dead upon Curt. 



"On another occasion the dogs brought to bay a she 

 bear, which we killed. From her condition we saw that 

 she had cubs somewhere around, and proceeded to look 

 for them. After some search they were discovered, three 

 of them, up an ash tree. We had a man in the party 

 named John Warren, who agreed to climb the tree and 

 shake them out, as we wished to capture them alive. As 

 he ascended the tree he began to get uneasy and said : 

 'Look here, boys, these cubs are a blamed sight bigger 

 than they look like down there; that's the way it looks to 

 a man up a tree!' I encouraged him to go on and told 

 him that cubs didn't have any teeth until they quit suck- 

 ing. As he climbed higher the cubs cra wled out on the 

 ends of the limbs where he couldn't follow them nor 

 shake them off. So we hit upon the expedient of shoot- 

 ing off the J hubs, by which process we let them all down 

 successively, and as each would hit the ground one of us 

 woul throw himself full length upon him to keep the dogs 

 from killing him. When Ave had secured all three of the 

 cubs Wgrren came down from the tree, and while fond- 

 ling one of the cubs his hand was severely bitten. 'Why,' 

 lve exclaimed, 'you said they didn't have any teeth? 



"At one time" I did not use a gun in bear hunting, but 

 killed them with a Colt's army pistol. But I found this 

 very demoralizing to the dogs, for the pistol was placed 

 near the bear, and its discharge, being near the dogs' 

 heads, shocked them, and after, when they saw the pistol 

 presented, they invariably let go of the bear and backed 

 off, which was embarrassing to the shooter. On one 

 occasion the bear got my knife hand into his mouth, but 

 the guard was crossways, so he could only penetrate my 

 hcind with his teeth enough to prevent its withdrawal. I 

 drew a pistol from my belt with the left hand and shot 

 him through t he brain. He had already been mortally 

 wounded." 



I could relate other exploits of Mr. Bobo, but this article 

 is long enough. Mr. Bobo is a thorough gentleman, 

 genial aud hospitable, a very fine shot, and imbued with 

 all the generous qualities of a true sportsman. 



Memphis, Tenn. COAHOMA. 



WORK OF THE MAINE LEGISLATURE. 



^|">HE Maine Legislature has adjourned, leaving the 

 X laws for the protection of fish and game practically 

 as they were before, though a few special acts concerning 

 the protection of fish in particular rivers were passed. 

 These laws are of minor importance to the general sports- 

 man. A more fiber al appropriation than ever before has 

 been made for the protection of the game and the protec- 

 tion and propagation of fish in that State. For the two 

 years, 1887 and 1888, the sum of $20,000 has been voted. 

 This was done at the recommendation of the Commission- 

 ers, as the Forest and Stream noted before the session 

 of the Legislature opened. But the salaries of the Com- 

 missioners are left at a ridiculously low figure — only $500 

 per annum. How the wisdom of Maine expects to obtain 

 the imdivided attention of men fit for the position for a 

 price so meager is a puzzle to the rest of the world. The 

 best measures of the session were killed. The poachers 

 and hotel keepers, finding their proposition to permit the 

 hounding of deer sat down on with a will that took the 

 courage all out of them, rallied their forces against the 

 proposition to add imprisonment to fines for the killing of 

 moose or deer out of season; and also to make it an 

 offense punishable with a fine of $500 and imprisonment 

 to kill a cow moose at ony time. Consequently the moose 

 law remains just as it was before the session, and must 

 remain so till the end of another two years. In the mean- 

 time, if the work of destruction goes on as the poachers 

 of some sections of the State desire, the work of annihil- 

 ation of the next noble game animal to the bison will 

 have progressed too far for recovery. 



The bill to add September to the open season on deer 

 was killed near the end of the session by the proprietors 

 of timber lands, who are desirous of keeping the hunters 

 away as long as possible. Perhaps this is as it should be, 

 after all, for the opening of as warm a month as Septem- 

 ber to jack-shooting might have proved harmful to the 

 increase of the deer. But there is a struggle yet to come 

 with the lumbermen. I have, heard it suggested, by men 

 who should know what they are talking about— citizens 

 of Maine — that these men helped kill the September open 

 season bill, for the reason that they prefer that the deer 

 Should be left for the use of their camps in winter. I 

 have also heard it from good authority, within a couple 

 of days, that these lumber camps in some parts of the 

 State have been well supplied with venison this winter, 

 and that the timberland interest threatens that it will 

 combine for the overthrow of the whole list of game laws, 

 if any trouble is made for these lumber camp proprietors 

 for feeding their men on deer this winter. Now this is 

 only the first part of a very bad story that has come to 

 my ears lately, and I am not yet ready to believe it. If 

 it is 'true, even in the smallest measure, why, the Com- 

 missioners have more money to use for the purpose than 

 ever before, and war must be commenced on these lum- 

 ber camps. 



Some excellent changes have been made in the lobster 

 law, the points of which the Forest and Stream has 

 already had. The hearing of the charges against the 

 Commissioners before the Governor and C®uncil is to be 

 on March 29th, instead of the 28th, as at first published. 

 There is not a doubt but what Mr. Stillwell is gaining in 

 public favor as his case is becoming better understood. 

 His defense, as seized upon by the Forest and Stream, 

 is being widely copied into the Maine papers. The ad- 

 journment of the Legislature before the hearing came 

 off was not expected by the enemies of Mr. Stillwell, and 

 it has served to scatter then forces. Special. 



