Mat 16, 1889,] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



837 



of the carcase the primer failpd to explode. The echoes 

 had not died away on the morning' air lief ore I was beside 

 the fallen game. He was scarcely breathing, the buck- 

 shot having made a hole large enough to let his wind out 

 all at once. To pay I was proud poorly expresses my 

 feelings, In a few minutes the dogs came up. smelled 

 the dead game and laid down beside it. Presently the 

 man who started the dogs appeared on the scene and con- 

 gratulated me on my success, and between us we pro- 

 ceeded to drag the buck about a mile and a half to our 

 camp. It was the hardest work I ever did in my life, 

 and the big prim seemed to grow heavier every st p, but I 

 went through it cheerfully. In conversation that night 

 the discussion finally reached the point as to whether I 

 could have missed the deer or not under the citcum- 

 stanees. It began to riawn on my mind that I had not 

 performed a very difficult feat, and that the shooting of a 

 single duck over my decoys was a far greater attainment 

 than the killmg of the deer. 



I learned something during that and subsequent trips, 

 and can now depend on myself, find my own way through 

 the woods without quarreling with my compass, paddle 

 my own canoe, and keep up my end in constructing a 

 shanty when necessary. W. R, W. 



Toronto, Canada. 



SEBOKEGNET OR CROSS ISLAND. 



The ad vau tapes that an Hand presents are many. The came 

 does not leave it. Poachers and pot-nunters can be kept off— tlie 

 hanes of inland tracrs where attempts have bi en made to pre- 

 serve. Islands are the thine; bnl unfortunately thev are scarce.— 

 Forest and Stream, March n, 



THE above paragraph from your valued paper struck 

 n j 7 eye just after my friend and I had been discuss- 

 ing the same subject in reviewing our last summer's 

 experience and considering our route for the coning 

 season We had visited Sebokegnet, or Cross Island, as 

 it is usually called, and were struck with the advantages 

 it offered to a gun club, or, what is still better, for the 

 shooting box of some wealthy sportsman. 



Cross Island is situated near the eastern headland of 

 Machias Bay. It is about three miles in length by two 

 in breadth. It is densely wooded with spruce, hackma- 

 tack, fir and birch trees, some of which are enormous. 

 At either extremity is an ideal harbor, deep, capacious 

 and landlocked, affording anchorage for yachts and 

 larger vessels. It is uninhabited except by the officer and 

 crew of the Life Saving station, who are on duty during 

 the winter months. In 1857 it w-as made the subject of 

 special legislation, by which "If any person shall hunt, 

 kill or chase any deer on Cross Island, so-called, without 

 the permission of the owner, he shall be punished by fine 

 or imprisonment." Since then it has been scrupulously 

 preserved. 



The i-land, beautiful in itself, is surrounded by some of 

 the most picturesque scenery on our coast. In front, on the 

 south, is the broad Atlantic, unbroken except by the Seal 

 I lands. Due east is the precipitous rock-bound coast of 

 Grand Menan. North is the beautiful bay of Machias, 

 dotted with islands and indented with peninsulas. On 

 the northeast is Little Machias Bay and Cutler Harbor, 

 where there is already a fine summer hotel, which we 

 make our objective point when in that region, which 

 affords within a radius of twenty miles every variety of 

 wild s-port, 



This island is the most remarkable game preserve on 

 the continent, and contains, according to the estimate of 

 him who is tne best judge, Capt. Wright, the commander 

 of the Life-Saving station and game warden, not less than 

 300 deer. 



We started from Hotel Cutler, which stands at the 

 head of Cutler H rbor, at 7 o'clcck one fine morning in 

 July, for a day on the water, a cruise along the western 

 shore. The wind was a light breeze from the northward, 

 which wafted us speedily along. We soon passed Light- 

 house Island, which stands like an angel of mercy at the 

 entrance, beckoning the slorm-tossed mariner to the safe 

 harbor within. We sailed down the western coast, pass- 

 ing a well- wooded, bold promontory on our right. Before 

 us lay Cross Is and. We next passed the entrance of 

 Little Machias B .y and entered Cross Island Narrows, a 

 f .nious fishing ground, which we reached in about an 

 hour, just in time to witness the straggles of some fish- 

 ermen with an enormous halibut they had taken, while 

 around were numerous other dories, the occupants of 

 which had suspended their attention to their own lines 

 to witness the contest. After the monster was secured 

 we proceeded on our way around Cross Island. 



The stories we had heard at Cutler had led us to think 

 we wotdd come on a deer at every turn, and we were 

 quite disappointed when we reached the western extrem- 

 ity without having espied a single pair of antlers. Nor 

 were our eyes greeted with the sight of a oeer until we 

 had mide the entire circuit of the i-land, and had lmded 

 at the Life Sdving station, where we were warmly greeted 

 by Capt. Wright. Here feeding quietly was a doe and 

 fawn. We were a s ain disappointed to find that they 

 were tame, and the mother not even a native of the 

 island, but had been brought there a fawn and given to 

 Mrs. Wright, who every morning and evening feeds it 

 a handlul of grain. During the day it often strays into 

 the woods, but always returns at feeding time. 



Lyman Wright, the captain of the Life-Saving stat : on. 

 is unmistakably a gentleman well adapted to his respon- 

 sible position, and one whom it is a pleasure to meet He 

 is every inch a sport-man, well versed in woodcraft, and 

 of course the topic of our conversation was deer. "I am 

 somewhat surprised you saw none on your way around," 

 he remarked. "It is rarely the case. In fact, for the 

 last five years I seldom leave the station, either by land 

 or water, but I see one or more. We often see them from 

 our windows. They follow Fannie, the doe, to the edge 

 of the clearing, and if no one is in sight, for quite a way 

 into the opening, but at our slightest motion they are off 

 like a shot into the cover. Last year Fannie persuaded a 

 young buck, who was paying her attention, that we were 

 harmless, and invited him to share the contents of her 

 feeding trough He became comparatively tame— never 

 like Fannie who liked to be fondled— but he would not 

 flee at sight. One morning I found him in the inclosure, 

 where he had evidently been all night. I fear Fannie is 

 a sad flirt and he fell a victim to jealou-y. One afternoon 

 while he was in the opening with Fannie he was attacked 

 furiously by two old bucks and driven away. They prob- 

 ably killed him, for he was never seen after." 



"How many deer do you think there are on the island, 

 Capt, Wright?" I mquired, 



"I think it is safe to estimate there are at least tliree 

 hundreel," he replied. 



"Why not estimate one thousand as well?" asked one 

 of our party incredulously. 



"I do not feel sure that I would overestimate the num 

 her if I did, and so I feel safe in putting them at three 

 hundred. You see, deer do not stand tip to be counted. 

 Go where you will when snow is on the ground and not 

 too deep and you will see it markeel with tleer tracks. I 

 seldom go anywhere on the island but I see one or more 

 deer, sometimes a large troop. I see more of them than 

 any one else. Perhaps they recognize me, and know 

 there is nothing to fear anel don't run from me. Then 

 again, the island is large. It has always been: the natural 

 habitat of the deer. When I was young we used to put 

 dogs on the island and drive them towara the narrows, 

 where we would shoot them while swimming. We 

 always got as many as we wanted that way. It contains 

 2.500 acres, It is full of browse, their food, besides the 

 dulse on the shore, of whie'h they are very fond. The 

 deer we see are very sleek, and evidently find ample pas- 

 turage, so I can see no reason o prevent a natural in- 

 crease. Now, the deer on this i-land have been protected 

 for twenty-one years, and I don't believe there has been 

 a poacher on it all this time. They firmly believe I 

 would shoot them as I would a bear, and I don't know 

 but what I would," said the captain, while a smile stole 

 over his benevolent countenance. "Wild animals de- 

 structive to deer are unknown. 'Tis true a bear swam on 

 the island a year ago, but as soon as we saw his tracks we 

 turned out and shot him." 



"Do you suppose he was the only one?" 



"Yes. Bears always leave signs and we have not seen 

 any before or since. I don't suppose a bear could get 

 away with a deer, anyway. Their scent is strong and a 

 deer's nose is very keen." 



"Well, you have hardlv given evidence of their being 

 300 deer yet, l^t alone 1,000." 



"It is a safe e-timate that two will produce two more 

 in two years. If so, a little calculation will show that in 

 twenty-one years the natural increase from a single pair 

 in that time would be thousands. Well, the conditions 

 for this natural increase have been most favorable. They 

 have abundance of food and shelter. For twenty-one 

 years they have not been disturbed by dog or gun. 

 Does are often seen with two fawns. There is every 

 reason to believe that there were a num her on the island 

 instead of a single pair when they were first protected. 

 Three hundred is a very moderate' estimate." 



"What is to hinder them from swimming off the 

 island?" 



"Nothing but inclination. Here they find sufficient 

 food, shelter and protection. No dogs to chase, no hunts- 

 men to kill and alarm, and why should they leave it? 

 In fact, though deer have been known to swim from the 

 mainland to the island, during the last twenty years 

 none have been known to leave it. When chased by 

 dogs on shore they instantly make for this island, ap- 

 pearing to know that here, they will find a refuge." 



"I should think they would become crowded," pursued 

 our questioner. 



"At our estimate of 300, this island would allow %\ 

 acres for each deer." 



"Are there any other kinds of gmic?" 



"Yes; there are several large colonies of raccoons, that 

 would afford coon hunting, so popular in Virginia. There 

 are, also, plenty of foxes. There is a large fresh-water 

 lake at the other end of the island, which wild geese and 

 other waterfowl make their stopping ground in spring 

 and fall. For several weeks in the spring and a week or 

 two in the fall geese abound, while brant, duck and 

 other waterfowl stop much longer. Shore birds are 

 innumerable, I have seen them in flocks so large that 

 they would seem like a cloud. There are, as well, lots of 

 p irtridges." 



We took a short walk in the woods. Every spot cap- 

 able of receiving an impression was marked with deer 

 track. 



"Why do we not see any? They are evidently all 

 about." 



"You make too much noise. Step softly, do not speak, 

 and I think I can show you some. Follow me." 



He led us down a path through the dense woods, and 

 by a warning finger uolif ted, halted us at the edge of a 

 little clearing. Availing ourselves of the cover the 

 bushes afforded us, we cautiously advanced. On the 

 further side, within the shade the trees afforded, was a 

 troop. There was the lordly buck, the fat doe and the 

 timid fawn, how many I know not, for before I thought 

 to count an incautious movement of some of our party 

 startled them, and they quickly disappeared into the 

 forest. 



We returned to the Life-Saving station, inspected the i 

 apparatus and reembarked for Machias Bay to see the 

 sculptured rocks and fossil footprints. The peninsula on 

 our right, which has been bought by Captain Ellicott, of 

 the Coast Survey, for some Baltimore people, is also full 

 of game. Deer are abundant and the marks of bear are 

 plenty. Jutting from it is Spi ague's Neck, a charming- 

 little point of three hundred acres, an admirable site for 

 a country seat. We sail up the beautiful Bay of Machias, 

 inspect the fossil footprints and gaze on the hieroglyphic 

 sculptures on the rocks. We make the circuit of the bay 

 and again come out on the Atlantic Ocean. As far as 

 the eye can reach is a succession of islands and points. 

 In the distance is Roche Island, the country seat of a 

 wealthy Boston gentleman. Just beyond is Loon Point, 

 the summer home of one of Boston's millionaire bankers. 

 On our return we again sail past Cross Island, which we 

 reached just before the sun was setting. This time we 

 were rewarded by a sight of deer; first one, next a pair, 

 and on one of the points a group of seven. 



We returned to Cutler well satisfied with our cruise 

 and visit, and rejoicing with the assurance that unless 

 certain contingencies arose, we would receive another 

 season an invitation to assist in thinning the bucks, which 

 is now considered advisable: and fully convinced that, 

 were we wealthy, we would buy Cross Island, and thus 

 secure the best game preserve on the coast, if not in 

 America. Fextz Waltbbson. 



HOW A BUCK GAVE ME A HEARTACHE. 



IT was some years ago, when bacon was not so plenti- 

 ful as now' in Arizona Territory, Meat was meat, 

 and there was no shooting game for fun. I was mining 

 at the head of Lynx Creek, twelve miles from Fort 

 Whipple, when one day finding our larder running low I 

 concluded it was time to go hunting. Shouldering my 

 old Spencer repeating rifle I took to the brush. I pre- 

 sume some of the readers of Fobest and Stream have in 

 their time owned and sworn by their Spencer, but in 

 these clays of good rifles the old style Spencer would be a 

 sort of a contrary "let her go-Gallagher." It may be she 

 would go, may be she would not. Mine was a good one 

 of the kind. 1 had re sighted it until it was a nail-driver 

 at seventy-five yards — that is, when it went. 



I had tramped over the mountains for some six hours; 

 it was getting late in the afternoon and I had seen noth- 

 ing but a couple of wild turkeys, with no chance for 

 shot. Coming out upon an open hillside, with small 

 patches of oak brush about two feet high. I saw a sight 

 which made my heart beat fast ; and in a second I had 

 a bad case of the buck ague. For there below me, not 

 seventy-five yards, I could see the branching horns of an 

 old buck, at least six points to the side, I knew. How to 

 get him was the question. I sat clown to qui j t my nerves 

 and think it over. I could not see the bodv, hut only 

 about half the horns above the brush. I knew win n ho 

 came up it would be flying; and meat was too scarce to 

 chance a wing shot. By studying the position of his horns 

 and straining my eyes into the brush I thought I could 

 make out the line of his back. Drawing a careful bead I 

 fired. The buck sprang up, then stumbled and went 

 down, T could see the blood on his shoulder. Up he 

 sorang again, and I pulled the trigger, but she didn't go 

 Spencer. Away went the buck with a brok- n foreleg; 

 down went the lever of my old Spencer, and as might 

 have been expected, the knife-blade extractor sheared 

 the rim from the shell; and there I was left with a spiked 

 gun and no ramrod, until I had whittled down a young 

 oak sapling and made one. Ic was then near suudown; 

 and my noble buck, where was he? Even to-day the 

 memory of that big wounded buck disappearing among 

 the pines makes me feel lonely. J. J. Fulton. 



Forest Anb Stream, Box 2,882, N. Y. city, has descriptive illus- 

 trated circulars of W. B. LefBn* well's book, "Wild Fowl Shoot- 

 ing," wliich will he mailed tree ou request. The book is pro- 

 nounced by "Nanit," "Gloan," "Dick Swiveller," "Sybillene" and 

 other competent authorities to he the host treatise on tne subiect 

 extant. 



DEER DRIVING IN VIRGINIA. 



THOUGH in all the sporting pape rs of the United States 

 one always sees a great deal about deer hunting in 

 its various form , 1 have noticed with some surprise that 

 seldom are there any articles explaining this paiticul^r 

 branch of deer hunting, namely deer driving. Of course 

 it differs very materially from stalking and other methods 

 of hunting deer, and many people on.-ider other methods 

 more sportsmanlike, exciting and requiring more craft 

 and skill. I think, however, and many others share my 

 opinion, that if y< u have any really good deer driving it 

 compares favorably with, if it does not excel, any oiher 

 methods in excitement and pleasure. For this sport one 

 requires a pack of at least a dozen hounds, the best, b^ing 

 the ordinary black and tan hounds one meets with so 

 often in tbe mountains of Virginia. Of coui>e they are 

 not much for looks or for blood, but for the rough ground 

 they have to traverse and for endurance they are far 

 better than any other breed used for the purpose. To 

 make this sport a success one requires about ten or twelve 

 men; more if possible, in fact the more men, the more 

 chances there are of bagging the game. Two of these 

 are chosen for the "drivers," those having the best know- 

 ledge of the. country "driven" bein^ generally selt cted, 

 and the remainder are the "slanders." The slanders are 

 then placed on their "stands" by the drivers, the best 

 ground being along the bank of a river or the ridge of a 

 mountain or any other convenient locality, the stands 

 being certain runways, fords, or other likely places for 

 the deer to run through, which are generally a b«>ut one 

 or two hundred yards from each oti er, and are generally 

 either in a etraight line or asemiicrcle as the case may be. 

 The driver then leave* the standers on their stands, hav- 

 ing arranged some signal he shall give at the end of the 

 drive to call together the standeis. He takes all the 

 hounds with him. bavins coupled them if possible, lett 

 striking the track of some deer or other animal, they 

 should leave the driver and follow ic up on their own 

 hook before the proper time. He then goes by a round- 

 about way to some point directly opposite the line along 

 which he has placed the standers and walks toward them, 

 letting the dogs loo-e two at a time as he comi s across 

 the freeh tracks or siirn of deer going in the direction of 

 the standers, and thus it is very probable that the deer 

 will be driven by the dogs toward the standers, and pass- 

 ing through the stands some one is pretty sure to get a 

 shot, possibly several. C. H. JR. 



W inchest kr, Hants, Eng. 



Bea.es and Beae Snoon^a.-Editor Forest and Stream: 

 I welcome the criticism of your East Indian correspon- 

 dent, "Shikaree." He calls me "hypercritical," but he is 

 always interesting, and may jjunch as many holts in my 

 articles as he chooses. Perhaps, were we to compare 

 notes, he would find that my opinions coincide very 

 nearly with his own, though his experience of bears is 

 widely different from mine. He says that they "advance 

 to the attack very deliberately." In this country, as far 

 as I know, they seldom advance at all, unless wounded. 

 I do not believe even tbe grizzly is an exception. The 

 article to which "Shikaree" refers consisted of a few 

 random ideas, thrown together for the benefit of inex- 

 perienced sportsmen, and was in no sense intended for 

 the instruction of experienced hunters. It was drawn 

 forth by the statement that a bullet of small caliber 

 planted in the brain of a bear, would kill him. To this I 

 agreed, but stated that the difficulty was to get it there. 

 Bob Herring, of Texas, said, "Never shoot at a Vear*s 

 head, even if your iron is in his ear — it's onsartin." So 

 think I, and so, I beheve'does "Shikaree." In my ex- 

 perience bears always try to get away by the shortest route, 

 and when tbey are plunging through the brush you can't 

 hit the brain. One might as well try to cut off a duck's 

 head in a seaway. I still hold to the conclusion that for 

 the great majority of shooters it is very much safer to 

 shoot at a bear with a large caliber rifle than with any of 

 the smaller sizes, and would like to ask "Shikaree" how 

 it would suit him to hunt East Indian game with a .32. — 

 Kelpie. 



Ohio.— Ironton, May 8.— The woods are full of young 

 squirrels; any amount of email and rabbits also.— J. D„ 



