298 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 28, 1887. 



IN THE BEAR RIVER COUNTRY. 



WE were in camp in Egeria Park, just at the foot of 

 the Gore range, in Colorado. Early in the morn- 

 ing we were about starling out on our hunt when there 

 came along a supply wagon bound for a large surveying 

 party in which I had a brother and several friends, at 

 work in the vicinity of Bear River. Taking my rifle I 

 clambered into the "prairie schooner" and was soon en 

 route for Bear River, which was reached at about 2 P. M. 

 of that day. One thing very noticeable to me at the camp 

 was the absence of fresh meat of any kind at table. Andy, 

 one of the cooks, said there were plenty of deer in the 

 vicinity, but the men had been unable for several days to 

 get any, although they had spent a portion of each day in 

 hunting them. 



After dinner I proposed to Andy that we should go out 

 and get some fresh meat for the boys' supper; he readily 

 assented and we were soon upon our way. 



Going up the Bear River canon, on as nice and level a 

 piece of meadow land as one can find anywhere, we soon 

 saw signs of deer, and then we concluded to take differ- 

 ent courses; he to take the sidehill to the left and I the 

 bottom and wooded banks of the river. In this way Ave 

 had gone for perhaps a half mile, being at this time 

 about 100yds. apart, each closely scanning his hunting 

 ground, when upon looking on his side I saw a fine buck 

 directly facing me and standing broadside to Andy. I 

 knew my companion saw the deer, for that moment he 

 threw up his rifle and commenced to aim. I expected 

 every moment to hoar his rifle crack, but no crack came, 

 and as I looked at the marksman I saw him wiggle, and 

 his rifle sway around, so I knew that if he killed that 

 buck it would be by wonderful chance. Still he aimed, 

 and although fully "200yds. away from the game, I aimed 

 also. There we stood, it seemed fully three minutes, al- 

 though I presume it was not more than a fourth of that 

 time, for m such suspense time seems much lengthened. 

 Still no shot was heard. It was a scene long to be re- 

 membered, my companion standing there with his rifle 

 to his face, a big buck directly broadside to him and not 

 more than 110yds. away, still he didn't shoot. I couldn't 

 figure it out in any other way than that he had 

 buck ague mingled with presence of mind enough to try 

 and see both sights and the game at the same time; and 

 knowing the probabilities were in favor of our losing the 

 game if some one didn't shoot some time that day, I de- 

 tei mined to drop hunting etiquette, drew my bead direct- 

 ly in the center of the deer's chest and fired. There was 

 a simultaneous roport, for at the moment I fired Andy 

 imagined he was ready and both rifles cracked at the 

 same instant. The fun of it was that he did not know 

 that I had fired, for I did not come within his line of 

 vision while ho was aiming; and he supposed, of course, 

 as the game fell that his was the bullet that did the work. 

 When he saw the deer drop he jumped up and shouted: 

 "I've got him, I've got hiui sure!" and started on a double 

 quick, jerking out his hunting knife as he ran. When I 

 came up to where the deer lay, Andy had his head nearly 

 severed with his frantic slashes with the hunting knife. 

 I noticed also that my bullet was where I meant it for, 

 but said nothing at the time, hoping to have a little sport 

 should things take the right turn. 



The operation of bleeding the animal being finally ac- 

 complished to his satisfaction, he next turned his atten- 

 tion to his rifle, which was a harmless musket with an 

 iron rod beneath the barrel. The shell that he had just 

 fired stuck, and he was doing his best in his great excite- 

 ment to enter the rod at the muzzle to drive the shell 

 from the chamber. He was as white as a sheet and it 

 seemed to be an impossible task for him to get that rod 

 into the barrel, but after some fumbling he succeeded: 

 the shell was driven out and a charge put in, and then we 

 turned our attention to our game. After a little Andy 

 said: "I wonder where I hit him to kill him so quickly ?" 

 I made no reply to this and he turned the game over and 

 examined the sides, but no bullet hole could be found. I 

 made the suggestion that perhaps he had mesmerized him 

 by shaking his rifle at him in such a tragic manner. This 

 allusion to his buck ague seemed to nettle the young 

 hunter, and he retorted that shake or no shake he had the 

 first game, and he thought that if I had a little touch of 

 fever that I might do something better than stand there 

 laughing at him, to which he indignantly replied, "that 

 of course he did, he was facing the north with his right 

 side toward me." I then told him to look on that 

 side more carofully; but he did not • seem to think 

 it necessary to look very closely for a .45-cal. ball 

 hole, and apparently began to think then that something 

 was in the wind and that I was still poking fun at him. 

 Finally, turning to me, he asked if I knew what killed 

 that deer, to which I replied that from the. slight incision 

 of about twelve inches in the animal's neck I should 

 judge that he had bled to death. He then asked me if I 

 saw the deer before he shot. I could not well evade the 

 question, and answered yes. "Did you see Mm drop?" 

 "Yes." "Well, I don't understand it. There is no bullet 

 hole in either side that I can find, and my .45 alw ays 

 tears fearfully, especially where it comes out, but I can't 

 find even a scratch, and therefore give up that I must 

 have missed him entirely; but that doesn't explain the 

 cause of his falling the instant I fired." He then turned 

 to me and asked, "Do you understand this business?" I 

 had to admit then that I was thoroughly acquainted wi th 

 the mystery, and of course had to explain. I showed 

 him my ball hole, which was partially closed up, also 

 where his bullet had just singed the hah on the animal's 

 flank. "Yes, that's so," he said, "for I«couldn't have hit 

 the chest from where I stood, nor you the flank from 

 your position." The deer was then hung up, and we pro- 

 ceeded on our course, each keeping to his own ground. 

 I have had "the fever" myself, and witnessed it in others, 

 but never in so violent a form as this took with him. 



I soon came to a little knoll that shut the river bank 

 from view, and thinking, perhaps at random, perhaps by 

 intuition, that there might be deer on the other side, I 

 carefully made my way to the top, and raising myself 

 with rifle in position to shoot I saw a sight to gladden the 

 heart of any sportsman. There were five splendid deer 

 quietly feeding near the river, all unconscious of the ap- 

 proach of danger. Taking quick aim at the head of the 

 family, a noble* old fellow, I shot and followed with an- 

 other and another, as quickly as possible, until I had fired 

 four times and had the satisfaction of hanging up four 

 b'.acktail deer as fine as ever made venison. This was 

 with a singleshot breechloader, so the conclusion may 

 readily be drawn that deer are not so shy and wary in 



these remote regions as in the foothills, where they are 

 hunted much, for there a man would be in the best of 

 luck to get even a decent shot at a band, no matter how 

 expert he might be or careful his a mroach. After hang- 

 ing up my game I proceeded to camp and sent back pack 

 mules for the meat, which was duly appreciated by the 

 surveyors. It was astonishing to see the juicy steaks 

 disappear before the twenty-five or thirty hungry fel- 

 lows. 



I spent a very pleasant evening chatting with the boys. 

 I was the first person that they had seen from home for 

 months, and was very welcome as I brought letters to 

 them from the post-office on Rock Creek, some twenty 

 miles from camp. The post-office system as conducted 

 in this sparsely settled country in this way: Small cabins 

 are erected along a certain route, and a runner or carrier 

 is hired to go over it once or twice a week, and the mail 

 for parties that he he knows to be in that vicinity is left 

 in a little box nailed up in one corner of the cabin. There 

 is no lock on cabin or box, and when a person wants his 

 mail he goes there, looks the mail over, takes his share, 

 puts anything in the box that he wants to mail, and 

 leaves. There is no postmaster, and sometimes for weeks 

 no two persons meet at the office. The mail is earned in 

 summer on horse, and during the winter on snowshoes. 

 This is very primitive indeed," but it is much better than 

 no way at all, as I found once when near one of these 

 stations with a broken king-bolt. I tied a note to the 

 bolt, directed to the carrier, telling him to take the iron 

 to Hot Sulphur Springs and have it mended; this I 

 mailed, and upon going to the station a few days after 

 found my bolt welded and a bill of $1.75. I put the 

 money in the box in an envelope, and found out after- 

 ward "that the carrier got it all right. I have never heard 

 of a letter being stolen, although such ..might easily be 

 the case. But to my story. 



Next morning at the surveyor's camp found us all stir- 

 ring early, and as soon as breakfast was dispatched, I 

 started out alone with the intention of loolcing around a 

 little before starting on my trip to my own camp. Going 

 up the cafion on the opposite side of the river from that 

 taken the previous day, I traveled on for a little way and 

 finally sat down behind a little ledge of rocks upon the 

 hillside. From here I looked down toward the river and 

 saw a picture that I would give much to possess as I then 

 looked upon it. To Avhere I was then looking, perhaps 

 125yds. , was nearly a straight line of quaking asp bushes 

 about 10ft. high, and right in the center, standing in clear 

 outline against the deep green of the leaves, were the 

 heads of three deer nearly touching each other; to the 

 right stood the old patriarch and on the left the doe, while 

 between them was a beautiful fawn nearly grown. What 

 a picture! O, that I were an artist! I would have it if I 

 never painted another. There the three stood, the bushes 

 hiding all but the graceful heads. I would have given 

 nearly anything then if I could have had my telescope 

 on my rifle at that moment, not to shoot with; 

 I knew full well that it would be an easy task to 

 put a ball between that buck's eyes; but nothing 

 was further from my mind at that time; I wanted the 

 telescope to get right up to them to see their faces and 

 expression as they appear when in their wild and native 

 state, unscared by man and confident that no foe is about 

 to harm them. But being no artist and having no tele- 

 scope, I content myself by doing the next best thing, 

 namely, let them alone; and this I do with a hearty good 

 will for two reasons — we have plenty of meat at camp 

 and I haven't the heart to shoot. I think that if all game- 

 were presented to me as this trio was, something more 

 than mere sport would be the cause of my shooting them. 

 I took up my line of march toward camp, leaving my 

 picture in peace to go at will, and soon I found myself at 

 camp, where I got a little food for my walk of twenty- 

 four miles to my own tent. The day was pleasant, the 

 walking good, and I really enjoyed myself in watching 

 the sage hens, jack rabbits and antelope as they fleAv and 

 scampered from my way. Noon finds me at a little 

 creek, with several bush huts along its banks made by 

 the Indians. One of the huts had a good matting of pine 

 boughs for a floor. This one I appropriated for a time in 

 which to eat my lunch and take a nap, etc. After sleep- 

 ing a short time I made another start for camp, and at 6 

 P. M. was with my own party again, listening to their 

 ad ventures and relating my own. Maynard. 



SPOTS IN BARRELS. 



E ASTON, Md., April 24.— -Editor Forest and Stream : I 

 see in last week's issue two of your correspondents 

 have been having trouble with .their guns specking and. 

 rusting. I have been there too, and I do not really 

 believe there is any cure, or rather prevention for the 

 evil. If a man shoots a great deal his ban-els are bound 

 to speck more or less, according to the kind of metal. The 

 very best thing I know of to keep guns hi order with, 

 either while in use or between seasons, is chicken oil. It 

 beats sperm, cosmoline and all the rest of the so-called 

 rust preventers. Get a pah of fat chickens, put them in 

 a pot to boil; when the oil rises to the top carefully skim 

 it off, bottle and cork. This receipt is not original, but 

 after several years trial I can say it is the best thing I 

 ever tried. Living as we do on the salt water, and spend- 

 ing a good portion of the shooting season from October to 

 April on our yacht, we have been greatly troubled to 

 keep our numerous guns and rifles free from rust, and 

 never had anything to do it save this chicken oil. Let 

 some of the fraternity give it a trial. Sanowtllah. 



Cleveland, April 23.— Editor Forest and Stream: 

 Much has been said in Forest and Stream relating to 

 rust in gun barrels, but no method so far seems to have 

 given entire satisfaction. I never had any trouble with 

 rust in barrels after I hit upon this process: Heat the 

 barrels so as to feel quite hot to the bare hands. Fill both 

 with a solution of gum shellac in alcohol; after a moment 

 or so pour it out; enough will adhere to coat them well. 

 To clean them, warm the barrels and swab out with 

 alcohol. A gun treated in this manner I once put aside 

 for four years without finding a single "spot" after 

 cleaning. * Collodion will also answer the same purpose, 

 when more convenient. For outside work dip the metal 

 in nitric, acid and then wash off with olive oil. This is a 

 splendid rust preventive, though it gives the iron, or 

 steel, the appearance of "case hardening," which is per- 

 manent. Dr. E. Sterling. 



THREE DAYS ON GREAT SOUTH BAY. 



ALTHOUGH many readers of Forest and Stream will 

 consider this tale insignificant compared with the 

 stories of canvasbacks and redheads that are shot on the 

 Chesapeake by hundreds, yet will I dare to tell of the 

 good time we had in three days on the Great South. 

 There were four of us — Cib, Bob, the Captain and the 

 writer. 



Bob and I started from Long Island City one afternoon., 

 and were met at Amity ville by Cib and the Captain, who 

 had got everything all ready, and were there to help us 

 w r ith our traps to the boat. It was a good three miles 

 from the depot to the boat house, but it did not take us 

 very long to "gitthar." Arriving at the boat house, we 

 put our guns and luggage into the two dinghies, and get- 

 ting in ourselves, started down the "crick," propelled by 

 Cib and the Captain. 



We soon arrived at the sloop, and without waiting at 

 all, Ave made sail and started east with a light northwest- 

 erly wind astern. When we were fairly under wav, I 

 went down into the cabin and started up a fire to boil 

 some coffee. 



"You'll find the mugs hangin' up right at the side, 

 there," said Cib, as he poked his head in at the hatch. 

 "The spoons is in that box, right there by the stove, and 

 the sugar's in that tin pail, hangin' there by the cup- 

 board." 



It took quite a long Avhile to get the fire started and 

 the coffee ready, and by the time both were done we were 

 almost to our anchorage. 



"You fellers ready for your coffee?" 



"In a minute; we're goin' to anchor about quarter of a 

 mile east," replied the captain, "and then we'll be ready 

 for your coffee." 



"And some grub, too!" chimed in Cib, who was up in 

 the bow getting the anchor ready. 



In a few minutes we were fast, and then they all came 

 doAvn into the cabin. 



"Have some, Bob? There, I swow, that coffee's pooty 

 stout. Sugar? By thunder, I forgot all about the milk! 

 Well, I guess we can get along 'thout it it," said Cib, as 

 he helped all hands to the steaming coffee. 



How much better it tastes aboard your boat, out in the 

 bay, without any milk, than it does in the city here, at 

 breakfast, with all the requisites. 



"Cut off some of that bread, Cap," said Bob. "There's 

 a piece of corned beef in the basket, and we want some 

 of that too." 



Supper was soon over and the things put aAvay, and we 

 settled down for a talk about the biras and the weather. 

 We had been occupied thus for about an hour, when Cib 

 arose, saying, "I guess I'll take a look at the weather, 

 boys," and suiting the action to the word, he went up on 

 deck. 



He soon came back and said, "The Avind 's pretty high 

 up to the nor'ard, but 't look to me 's though it might 

 haul round more f the east before mormn' and give us 

 some shootin'. Go and take an observation, Cap, and 

 give us your opinion." 



The Captain went up on deck, and I followed. It Avas 

 a beautiful night. The moon had just risen, and the 

 wind, which blew- gently from the north, made her re- 

 flection gather and ravel in the most fantastic shapes on 

 the surface of the Bay. Far off to the east Fire Island 

 Light twinkled its silent Avarning to mariners, across the 

 Avater, and iioav and then the scared "quack! quack!" of 

 a black duck would reach our ears from the meadows. 



"Well, Avhat do you think of it, Cap?" said I. 



"Well, it's pooty hard t' tell; the wind 's so shifty at 

 this season. I think, though," he continued, "that it '11 

 haul round a little, as Cib says, and be nearer east, afore 

 mornin'." 



Then we went below, and talked a little longer, but 

 after a while the conversation flagged, and pretty soon a 

 little wheeze from the Captain reminded us that Ave'd 

 better "turn in." 



"Say, Cap, w T e'd better get this mattress into some kind 

 o' shape," said Cib, sleepily. 



"Yes— d'ye think so? 'twould be a — good — idea" — 

 wheeze, and the Captain was off again. 



Nobody took the trouble to awake him, because every- 

 body was almost asleep; in fact Ave Avere asleep. 



I don't knoAV how long we had been so, but I was aAvak- 

 ened by the Captain, who said, " What's the time, Jack?" 

 I was the only one who had brought a Avatch. I struck a 

 match, and looked. "Ten minutes of two." 



"Well, Ave'd better be makin' some coffee. Here, Cib, 

 wake up, it's time we were stirring, Ave've got to get that 

 battery out, and the stools, and you fellers have got to 

 get a place at the medder (meadow) bank." 



The Camp was soon righted, and the fire also, and in 

 the course of half an hour we had some coffee ready. 



When the coffee was dispatched, together with a few 

 pieces of bread and a boiled egg, we were ready for 

 business. 



"Now, you and Bob stay here, and me and the Cap'n '11 

 git the battery out; you can help us a little with the 

 stools. I'll call you when I want you," said Cib, as he 

 climbed up on deck, followed by the Captain. In a few 

 minutes Cib called us and said, "Now, you fellers hand 

 out the stools to me and the Cap'n. We want brant and 

 sheldrake, Avith a broadbill." 



Soon the dinghies were loaded, and Ave put the decoys 

 all around the battery and then went back to the sloop. 

 Cib and Bob took then dinghy and started for the "med- 

 der bank," leaving the Captain and inyself on board. As 

 it would not be light for an hour or more I decided to 

 take a little nap, and so I went beloAv. The Captain 

 wakened me in a very short time, it seemed to me, and 

 told me to get ray gun and cartridges ready, because day- 

 light had shown itself. I took my Parker and a bag of 

 cartridges and A%^as soon in the battery. Noav, I am not 

 a very heavy person, and the consequence was that the 

 Captain had' to make two or three trips to the sloop to get 

 weights for the battery. Finally all was ready and he 

 left me. Gradually the daylight grew, until— 

 "The sun returning, 



Built a toAver of gold along the ocean floor," 

 or in this case, the bay floor. Whish-b-b— bang!— by Jove 

 —lost him. That broadbill was too quick for me. I had 

 to keep a sharp look out now, for the sun was fairly up 

 and the birds Avere begmning to fly. Whish— bang- 

 splash— that sheldrake didn't get away so easily as the 

 broadbill. Steady, here comes a flock of brant. 

 Xrr — hrr— krr— now they see the stools— they fall off a 



