552 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[July 21, 1887. 



dreadful appearance as the eye of the rattlesnake. It is 

 enough to strike not only birds and little animals but men 

 with nightmare. I have on several occasions examined 

 them closely with strong glasses, and feel with all force 

 what I state, and I will tell you that there are few men 

 on the face of the earth who can look upon an angered 

 rattlesnake through a good glass— bringing him apparently 

 within a foot or Wo of the eye — and stand it more than a 

 moment. N, A, T. 



Abilene, Tex., July 13. 



The English Skylark on Long Island, N. Y.— Led 



San article by Mr. Geo. A. Dennison (in New York 

 iming Post of July 6) in company with Mr. E. D. Bel- 

 lows, of Jersey City,'in the neighborhood of the Cemetery 

 of the Holy Cross,* Flatbusb, L. I., at 7:20 P. M., July 15, 

 1887, 1 listened to the characteristic flight song of one of 

 this species. The bird began singing at about 30ft. from 

 the ground and continued its song to a very high altitude 

 and until in its gradual descent it reached about the same 

 height, when it sank like a plummet to the ground. — L. 

 S. Foster (New York, July 15). 



'ume §ag and §lmj. 



THE GARDINER STAGE ROBBERS. 



/GARDINER, Mont., July 10.— Editor Forest and 

 \JT Stream: About 11 P. M. on the 4th of July, the 

 train being late, one of the Park Association stages was 

 stopped by two or three men, the passengers made to get 

 out, and were robbed of their pocketboois at the muzzle 

 of a pistol. The point at which this outrage was com- 

 mitted was about a mile from this town and the same dis- 

 tance inside the limits of the Park. Only one of the rob- 

 bers was seen by the passengers. He had a handkerchief 

 tied around the lower part of his face; and at the point 

 where the stage was stopped, the timber being thick and 

 the road narrow, the darkness and the fright of the pas- 

 sengers prevented any accurate survey of his person. It 

 was agreed that he was a man past middle age, of medium 

 height, dressed in grayish clothes, with his trousers 

 tucked into his boots. He appeared to be a novice at the 

 business, was very nervous and frightened, took what was 

 given him without searching the passengers or asking for 

 more, and was in a great hurry. 



There were three gentlemen and four ladies 'in the 

 stage, which was the last one to leave here; the baggage 

 wagon being some distance in the rear. Two of the ladies 

 remained in the stage and were not molested. 



The whole amount secured by the bold highwayman 

 was sixteen dollars. No watches or jewelry were taken. 

 Some of the passengers had with them large amounts, 

 but were wise enough not to hand them over. One who 

 had $250 in his pocketbook gave up his card case instead. 

 No positive clue has as yet been discovered looking to 

 the detection of the robbers, although efforts to that end 

 are still being actively prosecuted. The town of Gardi- 

 ner had been filled with a rough crowd, who were gam- 

 bling and drinking through the whole d - v y, and it is 

 believed that tlie r .bbery whs, the work of amateurs who 

 had got their courage up to the sticking point by the use 

 of large quantities oi G:r. liner \vh sky. 



Gardiner is outside of the jurisuiction of the Park, and 

 is destitute of all mean* for it be preservation of law and 

 order, besides being the retort of all the hard and worth- 

 less cases in the coiur.ry. This incident has no reference 

 whatever to the police condition of the Park, and yet 

 without doubt it will, by prejudiced parties, be made to 

 appear that it was due to the inefficiency of the military. 

 Captain Harris has worked hard for the past two months 

 to keep the Park clear of tramps and adventurers, and it 

 is in as good condition as ever before. Hereafter it is 

 believed, an escort will be sent with the stages which 

 go in after night. This will effectually prevent any 

 further trouble. Alexis. 



IN THE CHEROKEE STRIP.-V. 



THE morning after the sleet was cold, and the ground 

 in such condition that it woidd have ruined a grey- 

 hound's feet to run. We therefore cast about for amuse- 

 ments in camp. Ricker made a few sketches and I ex- 

 posed a few dry plates for views about the place. This 

 Was my first serious attempt at amateur photography. 

 Generally speaking, photography and hunting don't go 

 together very well. The result proved that I had pretty 

 fair success, however, as I brought back some forty very 

 decent negatives. As we had no way to develop the nega- 

 tives, it was necessary to keep the sensitive plates in 

 absolute darkness, the least ray of white light being fatal 

 to them. Our efforts at improvising a dark closet were 

 various. Sometimes we crawled under a bunk and hung 

 blankets down over the edges; sometimes we went into 

 an old tumble-down dugout, and got behind a pile of 

 boxes; at last we hit upon the expedient of making a 

 tent of some wagon bows covered with buffalo hides, 

 blankets and wagon covers. We found this dark enough, 

 but the ruby lantern made the little hole almost insup- 

 portably hot. 



At about noon we were visited by a neighboring ranch- 

 man or two, and with these came down young Hildreth, 

 ex-cook on the 2 1 . Hildreth hunted a great deal while 

 at this ranch, and killed a great deal of game. He told 

 us himself how he killed a mountain lion (or panther, I 

 don't know the difference, and I don't believe anybody 

 else does) not long before he left the camp. He was 

 hunting deer in one of the dense swamps below the camp, 

 and came upon a fresh deer bed, yet warm. In this was 

 plainly to be seen the footprints of the lion, left there 

 after the deer had vacated the premises. The trail of the 

 lion followed the trail of the deer, and Hildreth followed 

 the trail of both. All at once the lion sprang up out of 

 the tall grass, not ten feet away, then stopped and looked 

 around over his shoulder. Hildreth was badly "rattled" 

 and missed on his first shot, though he could nearly poke 

 the creature with hi3 gun. At the second shot he hit it 

 in the flank; and to follow his description, thereat it 

 gave a scream which could be heard for about ten miles, 

 and jumped at least forty feet above the top of the grass. 

 It lit upon its feet apparently uninjured by the fall from 

 such a height, and then stood up on its hind legs, facing 

 him and seemingly looking for him. Hildreth shot the 

 animal eight times, crossing four balls through the heart 



and lungs before it succumbed. The weapon used was a 

 Winchester .38. I would prefer my woodpecker gun, 

 the .45-90. 



The panther is invested with a halo of romance, handed 

 down by the daily ne wspapers — which must be entertain- 

 ing — from the days when men shot little round bullets 

 out of muzzleloading rifles and got chewed up by a mad 

 feline before the panther had time to die, or the man had 

 time to load. The panther is not dangerous, and I wish 

 the Sunday dailies would quit telling those horrible 

 stories about California lions, mountain lions, panthers 

 et id genus idem. They are mostly horrible lies, and not 

 excusable, especially on Sundays. Last spring Mr. Kirk- 

 patrick was out with one of the ranch boys mending 

 fence. They had two shepherd dogs with them, and 

 these two shepherd dogs treed a panther in a little tree. 

 The panther was 8ft. long, and the tree was about 6in. 

 through. The boys walked up to the tree and shot the 

 panther seven times with a Colt's revolver. The big 

 coward held on like a squirrel, and never fell out until it 

 was as dead as Julius Caesar or Oliver Cromwell or Napo- 

 leon Bonaparte. Why didn't it jump down and clean out 

 the outfit? Again, last New Year, on the west of the 

 Eagle Chief Pool, two boys, the oldest of whom was four- 

 teen years, killed a full-grown panther with an old muz- 

 zleloading Bhotgun, loaded with duck shot. They trailed 

 Mr. Dreadful in the soft snow, and having never read 

 any big dailieB, shot him twice. Off ran Mr. Dreadful, 

 and the two boys went back to the wagon for more bird 

 shot. Then they trailed the "infuriated beast" into a 

 brush pile, and filled his cowardly yellow hide so full of 

 little holes that it looked like a sieve. He "fell dead at 

 their feet." Why didn't he carry a couple of those boys 

 off to his lair in some lonesome mountain fortress? These 

 are true stories of the Cherokee Strip, all of them. They 

 therefore will not do for the Sunday dailies. Sure, the 

 panther \s little thought of for a fighter in that region. I 

 never read a real big panther lie but I think of Ko-Ko's 

 story of the execution in the "Mikado." 



I believe my partner, Mr. Ricker, is the most religiously 

 conscientious sportsman now alive in this Western coun- 

 try. Once convince him that it is the duty of a sports- 

 man to do so, or so, and he will do it or die. He has not 

 died yet, but I would have more peace if he would. A 

 part of Ms creed is that a sportsman should waste no time 

 in camp. He improves each little shining hour— and 

 some which are not so shining. Accordingly, nothing 

 would do but that another try must be made for the deer; 

 and I wasn't going to stay at home and let him go out 

 alone, and maybe kill a deer when I didn't. Anyhow, I 

 laughed him out of taking his scatter-gun — told him it 

 was his duty to take his .45-90 (he also had one). When 

 convinced of that he yielded. It was late when we got 

 among the black jacks north of the camp, and separated 

 for the day. We did not much expect to jump a deer, as 

 at that time of day they were usually out on the flats, 

 eight or ten miles away. They came that distance in the 

 evening, fed among the black jacks, and went out again 

 in the morning. This was then: habit while we were 

 there. 



However, I followed a tolerably fresh trail that I found, 

 and stuck to it until I began to think I should start them. 

 At one place the trail crossed a tight wire f enoe. The 

 deer had crawled under the fence. I should not like to 

 crawl through the same space myself. At last the trail 

 began to get crooked, and stand around in warm corners 

 under the sand hills. 



"Sit still, my heart," said I, "something is going to 

 happen!" 



I grasped my trusty woodpecker gun and groaned as I 

 asked myself for the thousandth time why on earth the 

 Winchester people put such beastly, miserable, straight, 

 impossible stocks on their rifles. I tried to get a shotgun 

 stock of a certain prominent gun house of St. Louis, but 

 one of their men wrote me that the "new model Win- 

 chester did not have any hole in the stock for a cleaning 

 rod." That fellow had a great head! If it had not been 

 for the courtesy of one of their traveling men in getting 

 my gun to me so quickly, I should have exploded wide 

 open when I got that word about the "hole in the stock." 



I just throw in that incident about the cleaning rod to 

 make this story seem natural. A fellow is always think- 

 ing of something else when a deer jumps. I don't know 

 what I was thinking about, but I presume it must have 

 been about that unknown genius who attended to my 

 order for a "shotgun stock." At any rate, I wasn't ready 

 when the old buck said "Pull!" and they all pulled. 



They were pulling out pretty fast when I got to the 

 top of the little ridge, and saw them bouncing over the 

 little basin below. Four big ghostly white creatures, 

 very large, and apparently very warm, for they fanned 

 themselves vigorously as they ran. 



The sharp lower corner of the rifle stock just happened 

 to catch me high up in the Bhoulder, Accordingly, I just 

 happened to hit the buck at the first shot. The ball of the 

 .45-90 went clean through him, and has since been found 

 over in North Carolina, by my "esteemed friend," Col. 

 James Henry Goshweiler. I found the buck myself a 

 little later on. 



When I fired the buck stopped fanning himself and 

 made visible complaint. Turning upon the other three 

 deer — two does and a yearling — which had run much 

 further to the left, I fired three more shots, rapidly and 

 with great precision, at an angle of about 45° in the air, 

 keeping my eye steadily fixed upon a point about half 

 way between the two sights of my gun. The does fanned 

 themselves on over the hill. 



It is wrong to kill does. Upon their safety depends the 

 preservation of the race. 



I ran on across the hill and satisfied myself that the 

 does were preserved all right. Then I bethought me of 

 the buck. Taking his trail I soon found I had not far to 

 go, and before long I saw him standing hunched up in a 

 little draw, about 200yds. ahead of me. He gave a few 

 stupid little jumps and hunched up again. I stooped and 

 ran rapidly 30 or 40yds. nearer; then, fearing he might 

 make off, I fired and melted Ms legs on the spot. 



I found that the first ball had ranged too far back. The 

 second broke his neck. E. Hough. 



Texas.— El Paso, July 14. — I am glad to say that 

 tMough the efforts of Col. Baylor, representative from 

 this district, El Paso county has again been placed under 

 the game law. However, our game law is such a miser- 

 able apology and the pot-hunter and old-fogy element is 

 yet so strong that we might about as well not have a law. 

 But having a law we hope for better by and by. — G.P.R. 



THE BIG BUCK OF CHETKO. 



FOLLOWING the coast of California to the northward 

 from Crescent City, the boundary line of Oregon is 

 soon reached and a few miles beyond is the mouth of the 

 Chetko River. This is a beautiful little stream of clear, 

 cold water, abounding in trout and formerly visited by 

 salmon in large quantities, many bemg taken by the In- 

 dians, who some years ago were in the habit of frequent- 

 ing the banks of the river in considerable numbers during 

 the run of fish. 



The coast bine here is somewhat irregular, forming a 

 small bight, where a few vessels may find comfortable 

 quarters, sheltered from the strong northwest wind, 

 wMch in summer sweeps along the shore with sufficient 

 force to make a protected anchorage at times desirable; , 

 and though not of sufficient size nor sufficiently secure to 

 be denominated a harbor, Chetko Bay is in point of pictur- 

 esque scenery perhaps equal to any part of the coast be- 

 tween the Golden Gate and the Columbia River. 



Happemng several years ago to be traveling up the 

 coast, and circumstances rendering a delay of some four 

 or five days at Chetko necessary, I proposed to my friend 

 and traveling companion, Stanton, to take a run ashore 

 of a day or so in order to stretch our legs, and, if possible, 

 get a shot or two at the deer, which we supposed would 

 probably be foUnd in that region. Entering the mouth 

 of the river in one of the sMp's boats, after barely escap- 

 ing a capsize in the surf on the bar, we landed on the 

 north bank and immediately set off. Our course took us 

 along a level plateau extending in a westerly direction 

 from the coast range of mountains two to three miles to 

 the ocean, where it terminated in a bluff some 50ft. or 

 more in height, and to the northward indefinitely, its 

 surface being broken occasionally by the course of a small 

 stream traversing the plain on its way from the mountains 

 to the sea, or by a solitary butte, which, rising abruptly 

 from the flat surface, and covered with a thick growth of 

 sage brush and scrub oak, afforded a pleasant relief to 

 the otherwise monotonous landscape. 



Our start was made in the early morning, our intention 

 being to hunt leisurely along during the day, and at Mght 

 find shelter at a house said to be some ten miles up the 

 coast, where we were told a warm welcome would await 

 us, wMch we afterward found to be the case. The day 

 at first was clear, but it was not long before a tMck fog 

 was blown in from the sea, rendering it difficult for us 

 to find our way along the trail upon which we had set out 

 After making our way for a couple of miles, we found 

 ourselves approacMng a butte about 40ft. high and situ- 

 ated on the edge of the bluff, the trail winding around 

 its base on the inshore side and passing between it and a 

 clump of similar Mils, distant a mile inland, as we after- 

 ward ascertained, when the fog rifted. While endeavor- 

 ing to make out the outlines of the hill which loomed up 

 indistinctly, my attention was arrested by a head, sur- 

 mounted by a huge pair of horns, apparently near the 

 summit, and turning with deliberation and dignity from 

 side to side, in a manner indicating that its owner was 

 upon the alert and ready to seek a more secure position 

 upon the slightest sign of the approach of an enemy. 



"Stanton, I whispered, "do you see that ? It looks big 

 enough to be an elk! 



"It is not an elk, but an almighty big buck," he replied, 

 "and I don't see how we are going to shoot Mm from 

 here, as he must be 200yds. away, and if we attempt to 

 climb the Mil we cannot get through the brush without 

 his hearing us, and then he will be off in no time." 



After consulting a little, we determined that our only 

 chance wao to shoot from where we were, so we both 

 pulled up and fired at the word, aimmg for the head, 

 which, as before stated, was the only part visible. Our 

 shots produced no impression, apparently, the old fellow 

 continuing to move Ms head slowly around, without stir- 

 ring from Ms tracks. Stanton then drew up to shoot 

 again, while I decided that I would not fire, but await 

 the result of Stanton's shot, which this time proved effect- 

 ive. He fired, lowered Ms rifle, and we then distinctly 

 heard the sound of the bullet as it struck him, and givmg 

 a bleat like a sheep, he came tumbling down the hillside di- 

 rectly to ward us. When about two-thirds of the way down 

 he stopped, gathered himself up, and ran off to the left, 

 around the side of the butte, whereupon we immediately 

 legged it around the base, thinkmg that perhaps we would 

 get another shot before reaching the edge of the bluff. 

 We were right, for after going but a little way we saw 

 the old fellow standmg in a clump of brush, broadside to 

 us. Now, never having shot a deer, nor even having 

 shot at one until that morning, I naturally felt disposed 

 to have a hand in the affair, and no "buck ague" inter- 

 fering, to my surprise, although I had it afterward upon 

 another occasion, with a steady sight behmd the shoulder 

 I let drive and had the satisfaction of seeing the old gen- 

 tleman drop m Ms tracks. It did not take long for us to 

 reach Mm and for some time we stood over him admiring 

 his size and beauty. He was indeed an enormous fellow. 

 I will not pretend to give any idea of Ms size and weight, 

 suffice it to say that he had the largest horns, the largest 

 hoofs and appeared by far the largest deer that has ever 

 come under my observation, and although an old hand 

 at deer hunting, Stanton fully agreed with me that this 

 was something beyond even his experience. 



"Well, Stanton," I said, "we've got him, isn't he a 

 splendid big buck, shall I cut Ms throat?" "No," he 

 answered, "he is not hurt mortally, don't you see he is 

 breathmg regularly? he is probably only stunned; I 

 thought I saw a piece of his hom fly off when you fired, 

 and if you attempt to cut his tMoat he may do you some 

 harm with his forefeet; you had better shoot Mm in the 

 head." Whereupon I walked round to where I could get 

 a fair shot between the eyes, carelessly pointed my rifle 

 and fired. To my astomshment the deer suddenly sprang 

 to his feet, wMrled round and set off at full speed down 

 the side of the butte, and before either of us could bring 

 our guns to bear was out of sight in the brush. 



I stood for a moment too much surprised to move or 

 speak, and then said, "Well, I suppose we will find him 

 not far off." "No," said Stanton, the chances are that 

 we will never see that deer again." And we never did. 

 We followed his trail by the blood for about a quarter of 

 a mile, when we lost all traces of it in an open spot. 



Thus I lost my first deer, and although I have since 

 killed many of his Mnd, I have never seen Ms equal, and 

 expect I never will. Upon each of the rare occasions 

 when I have since met my companion of that day he has 

 not failed to Bpeak with regret of the big buck which 

 came so near to being our gam*. Chetko. 

 JEhee, P». 



