174 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[March 21, 1889, 



growth monotonous. I have rarely seen a country, out- 

 side of the sandhills of the Cimarron— which this section 

 much resembles— where one could bo easily get "turned 

 around." It is a joke of the club to misdirect a new 

 member as to the path, in Avhioh case he may be two 

 hours or so in going the half mile. There is a rumor to 

 the effect that one member has ordered a half mile of 

 wire, which he proposes to stretch along the path. 



The marsh shooting of the club is done with boat, de- 

 coys and blinds, as on the other marshes mentioned, and 

 it will not be necessary to describe it. The boats used 

 are of the flat, home-made South Chicago make, or of the 

 Green Bay model. The president of the club, Mr. Alex. 

 T. Loyd, lias built him a couple of boats, one of cedar 

 and one of sassafras, on a model of his own. This model 

 is over sixteen feet in length and is thirty-three inches 

 amidship; the swell of the boat is a trifle aft, and is in- 

 tended to be just where the weight of the shooter comes, 

 a fact which gives the boat a rather singular look; the 

 cockpit is high and short, the boat being better for row- 

 ing than for poling on that account; the clinker strips 

 run up sharp fore and aft, and swell out over a round 

 and trim bow and stern, with a high rake and a sharp 

 point, almost a veritable image of that notable seaboat 

 the Esquimaux skin cayak. This boat is on the whole a 

 graceful one and a good one, not so steady as the Green 

 Bay boat, but so extremely good a sea-goer that Mr. Loyd 

 often goes out when the other marsh boats dare not ven- 

 ture forth at all. 



Of the boats used on the big lake, there is space to des- 

 cribe only two, Mr. Cleaver's Merganser, and Mr. 

 Loyd's Calumet Turtle, both of which offer some- 

 thing new in duck lore. The Merganser is a vast, 

 low-lying scow, with a great water-tight cockpit nearly 

 3ft. high perched like an elongated turret upon it. The 

 scow is worked out a quarter of a mile or so into the 

 lake, and anchored with a 2001bs. iron anchor. The 

 cockpit is surrounded by brush nailed fast to it. The 

 fleet of decoys is let out down wind from the corners. 

 The great boat rides the heaviest waves with ease. The 

 ducks apparently mistake it for an island, for they do 

 not pay much attention to it, and come right into the 

 decoys. Very good bags of mergansers and also of red- 

 heads and bluebills have been made from this odd con- 

 trivance. The ducks understand marsh blinds, but they 

 are ignorant about this one, evidently, and they decoy 

 into it much better than to a grass blind. The Calumet 

 Turtle is built on much the same principle, except that 

 its cockpit is not so high, and its supporting scow or boat 

 is neater and trimmer, being pointed at both ends, only 

 a few inches of air chamber being left between the per- 

 fectly flat top and bottom. The boat rides low in the 

 water, the waves washing over its supporting platform 

 boat, and running up on the sides of the turret in such 

 vay as to leave its outline indistinct. The blind is built 

 of brush as above described. Both of these boats seemed 

 to me ingenious and effective; so too did Mr. Loyd's 

 scheme of fastening a large air-tight sealed tin can under 

 the cover of the bow and stern of his hunting boat. The 

 latter thus provided, weighs hardly a pound more, and 

 even if filled with water, the big tin life-preservers 

 would not let it sink. Here, I think, is a valuable hint 

 to those who go down to the marsh in boats. 



Besides the varieties of sport already mentioned there 

 is one kind of duck shooting followed at the Grand Cal- 

 umet grounds which is not possible at any of the other 

 clubs and which impresses one as rather a unique sort of 

 fun. This is merganser shooting along the ice in the 

 spring. There has been a large body of these birds win- 

 tering on the lower end of the lake this year, and they 

 are always early in making then 1 appearance. They 

 frequent the marshes to some extent, but seem to prefer 

 the shallow water along the bar. They are restless in 

 their habits, and continually fly up and down the shore. 

 The ice is packed into the lower end of the lake and 

 crowded upon the bars by the action of the waves into a 

 huge field of hillocks and rough ridges, which is this 

 spring three-fourths of a mile wide. A warm day and 

 an off-shore wind breaks the ice into long seams and 

 threads of water, and often moves it all out except about 

 100yds. of rough little ice cliffs that hang on the bar. 

 The hardy duck hunters walk out upon this ridge or 

 cross to it in boats — in one case a hunter poled out on a 

 cake of ice— and put out their decoys in the strip of 

 water lying beyond the edge of the icebar. No blind is 

 used, the shooter lying down on the edge, or seeking 

 shelter in some cave or crevice. The birds work back 

 and forth along the ice and decoy very well indeed, and 

 good sport is had at the hard-flying if hard-eating shel- 

 drake and kindred ducks. Often a good bag of bluebills 

 and redheads is gotten in this way. I cannot imagine 

 any more picturesque form of sport. It was a foggy day 

 when we went out on the ice, and in a moment we were 

 out of sight of shore. The ice rose all around us in a 

 thousand huge fantastic forms, glimmering dully through 

 the mist and making the scene like the dream of the 

 Arctic sea. 



The club has two main buildings, the club house and 

 the keeper's house. The latter is more than ample for 

 Mr. Harnes and his good wife. They keep it well and 

 are well liked by all who go there. Their tenure is that 

 of a salary and perquisites. Mr. Harnes furnishes all the 

 blackbirds used by the club, and has the privilege of sale 

 of ammunition and other incidentals. He also boards 

 the members at a fixed rate, and his privileged little 

 hotel among the sandhills, and its select attendance will, 

 I hope, add much to his revenue this year, as doubtless it 

 will, since this is one of the best visited clubs out of 

 Chicago, its members feeling sure that there will always 

 be something to interest them in a visit at any time of 

 the year. 



The club house itself is a large and commodious place, 

 abounding alike in a business-like fitness and a great 

 capacity for the sweet do-nothing. The interior is not 

 yet fully finished, but soon will be. The furniture is neat, 

 durable and appropriate. About $6,000 has been ex- 

 pended thus far by this young club. 



There is always a certain romantic interest attaching to 

 the sea or to any large body of water, and no part of 

 Lake Michigan has a more vivid if more melancholy 

 interest than this remote and rarely visited lower end. 

 It is a dangerous locality for vessels, as the great quan- 

 tity of wreckage and the great number of wrecks along 

 the beach attest. A whole volume of pathetic stories 

 might be gathered from the records of the crippled and 

 stranded drifters whose big bones he scattered along the 

 shore, or help the importance of the club's vast wood- 



pile. There is a flower garden in the front yard built in 

 the hull of a fishing boat which the boys dug out of the 

 sand and towed down the lake. A heavy window trap, 

 wrenched from its hinges, and bearing a written message 

 nailed on its face, hangs on the wall as one of the orna- 

 ments. The vessel Melbourne grounded outside on the 

 bar off Calumet Beach, and the crew sent in this floating 

 message to the members of the club who stood watching 

 her. A man was sent to the nearest telegraph station, 

 and a dispatch brought a tug flying down from Chicago 

 that evening, and thus the Melbourne was saved. Once 

 a large yacht was found on the beach in the morning. 

 Boats put off and discovered the body of a young man 

 lashed fast to it. He was drowned. So, too, it afterward 

 transpired, were his two young companions. The parents 

 of none of the boys were aware that they were out of the 

 city. 



The photograph from which the engraving of the club 

 house was made was taken, one muggy morning, by Mr. 

 W. L. Pierce, one of the leading members of the club, and 

 perhaps as ardent a photographer as ever was. It was 

 Mr. Pierce who once had himself let down by a rope, fifty 

 feet or more, in order to get a good view of the Horseshoe 

 Falls of Niagara. He says the suck of the great body of 

 water was such that he almost lost the use of his legs, and 

 was unreservedly the worst scared he ever was in his 

 life. 



It was in the early season when I last visited this pecu- 

 liarly interesting club, and wandered along the sandy 

 beach on which, like a big life-saving station, the home- 

 like club house stands. The ice was still in the lakes and 

 streams, but the air was full of the mysterious sugges- 

 tions, the sweet melancholy of awakening spring. The 

 year was about to begin anew. In the distance rang the 

 "git a-lan-n-g!" of the busy jay, while under foot in the 

 woods showed the patient face of the first violet. Things 

 were about to begin over again. How good, one could 

 not help thinking, to be privileged to come down here, 

 so singularly close, so peculiarly far from the big city, 

 and see the year begin again. Perhaps for some tired 

 fellow it may mean a great deal more; it may mean a 

 beginning over again of fife, and a forgetting of the rapid 

 coming on of the sere and yellow leaf. So now is a good 

 time to see and say good wishes to these preservers of 

 good hope— while the bhiejay is hustling as though his 

 sou) depended on it, yet while the violet is fresh in the 

 untracked woods. Save us! Gentlemen, let us begin 

 again. The violet and the bluejay have no quarrel, nor 

 do rest and work conflict. E. Hough. 



No. 175 Monroe Street. 



SNARING AND THE MARKETS. 



Editor Forest and Stream : 



I can imagine myself meeting your correspondent 

 "Hermit," taking his hand, and with whatever grip 

 my 2101bs. of bone and muscle can possibly command 

 exclaiming, "Put it there." I have had quite an exten- 

 sive experience (in my younger days) in grouse snaring, 

 thirty years ago. "Well do I remember the cold frosty 

 October and November mornings when I have jumped 

 out of bed and without half dressing myself hurried off 

 to these "twitch ups" to find now and then a cottontail 

 rabbit and once in a great while a partridge. I have had 

 thirty to forty snares set and well tended too, and in all 

 my boyhood's snaring for grouse the number caught 

 could be counted on the fingers of my two hands. Lots 

 of rabbits have been found in them, and. so they were re- 

 set the next fall. 



Perhaps some one will say, "Well either you do not 

 understand snaring or else it was a poor game country." 

 Let me see, the locality was southern Massachusetts, 

 Worcester county, which was and now is a fair place for 

 grouse. When twelve years old I commenced — and soon 

 took the knack of — snap shooting the birds in the brush, 

 and rapidly advancing in this method of killing them I 

 well remember one day returning home after a short 

 tramp of perhaps two hours with five partridges in the 

 game bag, more than I could snare in a whole season. 

 What then was the outcome of it? Why, I was a 

 "sportsman," a "true sportsman," I was ready to 

 kick and tear up the snares that the other boys had 

 set, and never from that day to this have I set a 

 snare or trap of any kind for grouse. But I can but 

 remember it, and it is with no pride that I write it; it 

 was a mean, contemptible thing to do, but it was the 

 "ethics" of hunting and "sportsmanship" to tear up the 

 traps and snares that the other boys had made; and why? 

 Well, it was taught to me by a "sportsman" who shot 

 birds for the market and owned two .pointer dogs. He 

 learned that the writer was "brush shooting. J and "killed 

 a bag full of birds one day," and hired me to shoot with 

 him and his dogs, offering me the magnificent sum of $3 

 a week through the season, "rain or shine." Yes, $8 a 

 week for a ragged country boy, with the traditional 

 slouch hat, one suspender and sub-post office, which, 

 taken together with a ricketty old muzzleloading shot- 

 gun, and the rest of yours truly was about to become a 

 "true sportsman;" kick and tear up snares that farmers 

 and farmers' boys had set upon their own farms and wood- 

 lands, and kill our birds in a "sportsmanlike" manner. 

 For this market-shooter I worked for that season and the 

 next, and at the end of the second season I do believe 

 that there was not a partridge left for a radius of two 

 miles from our home. It was seldom that we ever had a 

 shot at them on the ground, for the dogs would point 

 them for us, and they did not lie very close, but often got 

 up wild, and only by the quickest work could we get 

 them, so wild were they; but well now do I remember 

 the number at the end of the first season's shooting, 413 

 birds. Great Scott! Talk about snares — of course, some 

 of them were woodcock, and a few quail, but the ma- 

 jority of them were grouse, and, although they were shot 

 and killed in a legal and "sportsmanlike" manner, there 

 were fifty grouse destroyed by the use of dogs where 

 there was one caught by snaring. 



This man is still living and shooting birds for market 

 every season, and the result is that there are but veiy 

 few grouse in the seventeen square miles — several of 

 them woodland — that form the township in which he 

 resides. It is nothing uncommon, the farmers in that 

 locality tell me, to have their chickens killed by "bird 

 dogs" that belong in the village, but run loose through 

 the spring and summer. But they also say that the 

 sportsmen are always ready and more than willing to 

 pay for any damage that the dogs do, so they do not find 

 much fault with them. Now it is not that snaring birds 



is hi the interest of game protection that I would claim, 

 but I do believe that, as poor a shot as I am, with my 

 old double-barrel Wm. Moore & Co. and a pair of good 

 pointers, I could exterminate more grouse in "true 

 sportsmanlike" manner, e., take every fair wing shot 

 and "ground sluice." them when no one is looking, than 

 any three snarers would, taking the season through. 



There is, or at least should be, "reason in all things; 

 and while the writer is a firm friend of game protection , 

 when it really is protection that protects, it makes me 

 tired to hear sportsmen talk of protecting game, making 

 laws to stop the farmer's boy from setting a few snares, 

 etc., etc., and then in the next breath tell about going 

 out and bagging six or eight birds in a single morning— 

 in "true sportsmanlike manner." While I am well aware 

 that every shooter who owns a dog and gun does not do 

 this, yet there are those who do hunt and kill the game, 

 too — more's the pity — who can, and do, kill half the 

 birds shot at, and one of these death-dealing market- 

 shooters using dogs will do more to exterminate the birds 

 than most people are aware of ; and while no one attempts 

 to stop his selling the game in market, a great cry goes 

 up against the snarer. 



Stop the selling of birds in the market, and then you 

 stop the extermination of game, but as long as game is 

 sold in the market, and will bring in the almighty dollar, 

 just so long will the market-shooter and the much-de 

 spised snarer ply his vocation, and just so long will the 

 real, genuine, simon-pure sportsman— who goes afield just 

 for the pleasure and recreation there is in it; the excite- 

 ment of smelling a little burnt powder, the joyous thrill 

 of now and then seeing a grouse tumble to the crack of 

 his trusty breechloader, and last as well as least a choice 

 morsel for the table — find that there is a scarcity of 

 game, and while he may find plenty of old and half -de- 

 cayed shells lying around to remind him of the real 

 cause, he is apt to attribute it to ticks, snares,, migration, 

 a hard winter, deep snows and crust, and a dozen other 

 causes, he does not once think of the "true sportsmen" 

 that exterminates the game for the few dollars he may 

 pocket. Iron Ramrod, 



Somerville, ftlass., March 1. 



WILDFOWL NOTES. 



Tow an da, Pa., March 11.— A number of black and fish 

 ducks have wintered in this neighborhood, seeking the 

 open water of the river for feeding and resting grounds. 

 Occasionally one is killed, but generally, owing to the 

 difficulty of reaching them, allowed to rot away on the 

 shore. A man (cannot call him a sportsman) found where 

 a small flock came to feed at midnight in a spring hole 

 among the willows. Two flames of fire from the mur- 

 derous gun at that hour and half the flock (four birds) 

 were bagged. One flock of wild geese reported going 

 north last week.— Sus. Q. Hannah. 



Maple Lake, Minn. — The first geese of the season 

 made their appearance here March 12. Two flocks were 

 seen early in the morning, going north.— E. A. T. 



Welland, Ontario, March 13. — A large flock of wild 

 geese passed over Port Robinson to-day, going north- 

 ward. — E. 



Minnesota.— Heron Lake,March 12. — Mallards and pin- 

 tails came to-day, and if our Legislature wills it I shall 

 be at my favorite sport in a few days. This is the lake 

 par excellence for canvasback in springtime, and should 

 the bill pass that is pending before the House, I may bag 

 sixty a day before the week is out. — Rustic. 



The Massachusetts Association.— About seventy - 

 five members of the Massachusetts Fish and Game Asso- 

 ciation partook of the usual monthly dinner at the Hotel 

 Thorndike last Thursday evening. President E. A. 

 Samuels presided. Several solos were contributed by 

 Mr. M. W. Whitney, thereby adding much to the enjoy- 

 ment of the occasion. Messrs. Thos. H. Hall, Austin A. 

 Martin and Outram Bangs were elected to membership 

 and the following were proposed: Gov, Oliver Ames, 

 Hon. Halsey J. Boardman, Hon. A. H. Rice, Hon. J. F. 

 Dwinelle, Hon. W. S. Gaston, Hon. J. A. Andrew, Hon. 

 J. Q. A. Brackett, Messrs. F. L. Brown, H. K. Leonard, 

 C. A. Reed, C. B. Pratt, C. R. Crane, I. W. Butler, J. E. 

 Hall, B. D. Sweet and F. A. Mudge. This resolution 

 was adopted as a substitute for so much of the resolution 

 adopted at the last meeting as pertained to referring 

 cases of violation of the laws to the State Commissioner 

 for prosecution: "The officers of this Association may, 

 when practicable, refer cases of infringement of laws for 

 the protection of fish and game to the State Fish and 

 Game Commissioners and request them to make prosecu- 

 tion for the Commonwealth as provided by law." It was 

 voted to have a lecture given at an early date, to which 

 the members of the Association should be permitted to 

 bring ladies. It was voted to endeavor to secure the re- 

 peal of the law permitting the snaring of quail, partridge, 

 etc.— A. W. Robinson, Sec'y, 



Pennsylvania Quail.— Auburn, Susquehanna County, 

 Ya., March 11.— "Nom de Plume," of Springville, quotes 

 me correctly in your last issue. I still affirm the report I 

 then made to be correct. I spend much time rambling 

 about the fields and woods as well during "close time" as 

 in the game season, often to the neglect of business and 

 profit, yet have not seen a single quail during the past 

 two years. As to woodcock, but two came under my ob- 

 servation during the past season. One was brought in by 

 the cat in late summer, the other fell to my gun Oct. S3, 

 Surely "Nom de Plume" has been highly favored in the 

 covers so near at hand, and he must be a sportsman pos- 

 sessed of no mean degree of skill to make such a score 

 under adverse circumstances. I will yet give him a 

 chance to "show up" the quail, as but four miles separates 

 us, and I would take a much longer tramp any time for 

 an opportunity of feasting my eyes on a bevy of the little 

 beauties. — Bon Ami. 



Oregon. — Monument, Grant County. — I am camped on 

 the north fork of John Day River. This has at one time 

 been a fine game countiy, but deer are not as plentiful aa 

 they used to be; there are a few elk still left in the higher 

 parts of the Blue Mountains near the head of this river. 

 — E. S. C. 



Manorville, Long Island, March 17.— Snaring part- 

 ridges around this part of the island was very exten- 

 sively practiced this last season. — C. 



