124 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept. 6, 1888. 



THE WOODCHUCK CREEK COUNTRY. 



II. — SOLID. 



THE wind had continued to increase in vio'ence, and 

 gradually chopped around to the southwest; there 

 was a perceptible falling of the temperature and other 

 indications that the weather was undergoing a decided 

 change. Just as a particularly savage gust of wind struck 

 the castle the door opened and the General entered, and, 

 as might be supposed, was a tolerably "demmed damp, 

 moist, unpleasant body," but his form was adorned by 

 such trophies as drew all attention from liimself and con- 

 centrated the gaze from four pair of astonished optics 

 upon two specimens of Meleagris gallapavo, magnificent 

 as ever fell to the lot of a sportsman. 



Tied together at the neck were suspended from the 

 General's left shouldir a pair of gigantic gobblers, and 

 despite the wet and bedraggled state of their plumage, 

 they were unmistakably beauties. Striding across the 

 Toom with a pardonable pride the General cast his burden 

 upon the floor near the fireplace, and placed Ms gun in 

 the corner. Then, looking around with sweet content, 

 he said: 



•'That pays better than sitting around a blazing fire and 

 telling yarns about impossible achievements, or playing 

 poker with a ten cent ante and a dollar limit. What do 

 you think of that, my lords of leisure and laziness?" 



Then replied the Doctor: 



" 'The honor is overpaid 



When he that did the act is commentator.' 



"Neverthe ess, my boy, thou hast done marvellously 

 well for a rainy day, and much thanks thou hast for the 

 prospect therein given us of a most worthy and noble 

 Thanksgiving dinner." 



"'Nay. an thou'l't mouth, 

 I'll Tant as well as thou,' " 

 rejoined the General, "but I can't do it on an empty 

 stomach; let's have some dinner, and while we eat I'll 

 give you some account of how the birds were brought to 

 bag. " Ah, but what a day — what a day! I have been 

 so unfortunate as to strike some bad weather before now. 

 but the like of this I have never been called upon to face." 



Aaron had finished his work in the kitchen and was 

 now laying the table with a snowy cloth and the plain 

 dinner service, and in due time we were doing ample justice 

 to the meal which our acccmplished cook had provided. 

 If there was anything that Aaron excelled in, it was 

 roasting a saddle of venison, and a worthy example of 

 his art in this line now appealed to our senses, well larded, 

 and "done to a turn." The currant jelly was not lacking 

 either, nor were the toothsome yellow danvers nor the 

 browned potatoes. The maxim that "actions are more 

 eloquent than words" had never a more satisfied believer 

 than the sable Aaron. He grinned some fearful grins 

 as he beheld the onslaught. But the engagement was 

 not so fierce but there was time and leisure for the narra- 

 tive, of the General. 



"To tell the honest truth, lads, I was secretly repentant 

 more than once witliin the space of an hour after leaving 

 this most comfortable and inviting shelter, to say nothing 

 of 



* * * 'this worshipful society 

 That fits the mounting spirit like myself,' 

 and all that sort of thing; but having started with the 

 determination of doing something out of the 'general 

 run,' I would not for any consideration give in to any 

 such weak inclination — and it wasn't so weak either — 

 to return to the Castle. So Don and I tramped along 

 through the beating rain — wmich seemed to increase in 

 ferocity every moment. Yes, it was a mighty juicy 

 tramp, but I had an objective point, all the same. I had 

 marked well the spot where a flock of turkeys were ob- 

 served feeding down along the wooded bottoms of the 

 creek the first day we came. T had no idea what effect 

 the rain would have upon the probabilities of a shot at 

 them, but I reasoned that they would lie pretty close 

 under cover like sensible birds. 



"On thi-5 hypothesis I laid out my route straight to the 

 creek. Don seemed to regard the rain as a necessary evil, 

 and worked apparently as well as on a dry day. I sent 

 him out as soon as we struck cover, and once only did he 

 flush a bird (a partridge that I did not want) for which he 

 seemed duly repentant and came to heel immediately. I 

 did not let him out f urther than a couple of rods, and called 

 him back quickly, as I fancied I heard the soft cluck of 

 a hen turkey. Stopping short and listening attentively, 

 I concluded I had been mistaken, and then started for- 

 ward cautiously. Don evidently had scented game near 

 at hand, for his actions were very significant. 



"Fifteen minutes a "tervvard the sounds formerly noted 

 were heard again, this time unmistakably, and I made 

 up my mind that there was game in the immediate vicin- 

 ity. We stole along noiselessly, eye and ear alert, for a 

 dozen rods, when, to our left, and plainly in sight, I saw 

 the head of a cock just above the trunk of a fallen 

 hickory. Of course I concluded that this bird was not 

 alone, and that if two were to be bagged by a double shot 

 a little caution was necessary. I stole along from the 

 shelter of one tree to another, until I dared not risk 

 getting closer; stepping upon a dry twig it snapped like 

 a pistol, and up alongside the first came two more heads, 

 wildly seeking the cause of the sound which broke the 

 stillness of then haunts. 1 did not delay longer, but with 

 a rather hurried aim touched off old 'Wellington,' and 

 one of the heads disappeared. Two magnificent cocks 

 and three hens immediately started up and started at a 

 terrific speed straight out and in front of me, when I 

 covered the largest and checked his unseemly flight. 

 Quickly throwing in fresh cartridges I started, hoping to 

 get one more if possible, but the birds were too fleet for 

 me, and I was forced to be content with the two already 

 slain. Upon taking them up I found them, as you see, 

 elegant birds, and as to weight, I discovered before getting 

 into camp that it was no insignificant matter. " 



"Well, what about the other shots we heard — there 

 were two more?" put in Sisyphus. 



"I had no sooner got the birds together preparatory to 

 a return than I heard a crash in the underbrush off to my 

 right, and turning suddenly I caught sight of two deer 

 just vanishing in the distance. I concluded to recon- 

 noiter for a crack at that grade of game, at the same time 

 removing the cartridges and substituting a couple loaded 

 with buckshot. Don and I made a slight detour to the 

 left, struck the creek, and followed the bank up stream for 

 half a mile. Just at the bend, where we brought down 

 that elegant buck last year, I saw a movement in the 

 hazel brush, and before I could realize the fact that there 



was something alive there out pranced a fine doe, and 

 sped with the velocity of the wind into the forest. I 

 blazed away with first right and then left, but I don't 

 suppose I rai-ed a hair on the beauty; at any rate, she 

 didn't stop to inform me." 



"If it should freeze within a day or two, and a light 

 fall of snow follow, I think we will have home sport here 

 with big game," remarked th« Doctor between his sips of 

 coffee. 



Aaron appearing at that moment, provided the weather 

 probabilities: "You're mort'ly sartain to git it before 

 to-morrow night, an' you kin jist 'pend oil dat, Nebber 

 know'd to fail." 



"Never knew what to fail, Old Wisdom?" 



"How long we ben comin' here — a' ways to dis here, 

 to dis 'ere Cassil — 'bout five year' ain't it? Wall, I have 

 always took notis that when de wind chops 'round to de 

 sou'wes' any whar, twixt 'leveu o'clock in de mornin* 

 and one in de artemoon, and comes whislin' down dat 

 ar chimny wid a 'culiar kind o' tune like I hearn to-day, 

 it onvariable follers dat cole we'der goin' to shet in sud- 

 dint and mighty sharp, widin twelve horns, and don't 

 you eber forgit dat." 



"Aaron, do you feel like putting up a week's wages on 

 that prediction?" 



"Yes, or a month's, but I should hate, dreadful, to 

 take any o' your money when I got a dead sure thing." 



"All right, we'll see what we shall see." 



There certainly were unmistakable symptoms of colder 

 weather, and this with Aaron's prognostications were 

 hailed with delight. Dinner over, cigars were lighted 

 and we proposed to put in a share of the afternoon at 

 whist. In opening the door of the little locker and cabi- 

 net which contained various accessories of daily life, 

 the Doctor knocked down a very finely mounted English 

 snipe, and when he had restored it to its place, he stood 

 looking at it with a very amused expression, which 

 finally ended in one of his roaring laughs. 



"I have had for some time vague fears that the Doctor's 

 mind was failing," gravely remarked Sisyphus, "and 

 such demonstrations as this confirm them. What there 

 is hilarious or particularly mirth-provoking about knock- 

 ing down with inconceivable awkwardness a stuffed 

 snipe and then picking it up and putting it back in its 

 place is more than a well-balanced mind can conceive.' 



The Doctor continued to laugh heartily and ignore the 

 intimation of his friend as he brought out the cards and 

 we surrounded the green baize table. 



"The fact is, boys, I never see a snipe in any condition 

 — broiled for the table or stuffed for preservation — with- 

 out being reminded of a most excellent joke that was 

 perpetrated at the expense of our old friend Commodore 

 P. You remember him, all of you, the genial, gentle- 

 manly and popular commodore of the palatial line of 

 steamers that once (1854-5, I think) plied between Mon- 

 roe, Mich., the then eastern terminus of the Lake Shore 

 & Michigan Southern Railroad, and Buffalo. That was 

 before the Canadian roads were built. The boats were 

 indeed floating palaces, and the trip from Monroe to 

 Buffalo was a most agreeable change from the hot dusty 

 cars to the passenger from the West, and vice versa. The 

 Commodore was a courtly gentleman, a good sailor, a 

 competent commander and a jolly bon vivant withal, 

 which naturally rendered him a favorite with the whole 

 traveling public as well as with those who knew him 

 better. He told a good story and relished a good joke as 

 keenly as any man hving. 



"The Commodore's weakness was snipe, and among 

 his acquaintances he numbered many sportsmen, who 

 kindly remembered this fact, and from the marshes 

 around Monroe, in the season, the Commodore's table was 

 liberally supplied. There were professional 'sportsmen' 

 also who drove an occasional bargain with the lover of 

 good things. During a certain season snipe were unac- 

 countably scarce, but, thanks to the skill and iindeviating 

 fidelity of one of these 'sportsmen,' the Commodore's 

 supply never failed nor diminished. The only difference 

 was that 'in older to save time and trouble to the stewart.' 

 the birds were now always delivered plucked and dressed 

 before being offered for sale. 



"Matters went along smoothly for some time, when one 

 day the Commodore invited a friend to dine with him, 

 and snipe naturally was a prominent dish, and a greater 

 delicacy than common on account of the scarcity of the 

 game. The guest was posted on snipe, both hving and 

 cooked, was not only a thorough sportsman but an epi- 

 cure as well. He marvelled at the abundance of the 

 temporarily scarce bird, but was assured by the smiling 

 and exultant host that his supply had not failed, though 

 others had great difficulty in getting even an occasional 

 bird. The guest looked closely at the bird on his plate, 

 turned it over, cut and tasted it. Laying down his knife 

 and fork, he looked the Commodore solemnly in the 

 face. 



" 'Captain P.,' said he, 'do you buy these birds with 

 the feathers on ?' 



" 'No, indeed,' was the reply, 'I get them already 

 plucked and dressed, which seems to suit the cook much 

 better. ' 



" 'Then let me advise you to return to the old way and 

 get feathers, too— thus avoiding snipe in mourning attire 

 — and the consequent blackbird flavor.' 



"The story leaked out among a few of the intimate 

 friends of the Commodore, and many was the bottle of 

 fiz that were required to keep silence. The Commodore, 

 it is needless to add, bought his snipe with plumage on 

 thereafter. 



"Yes, I remember the old captain very, very well; he 

 was a natural-born steamboat man; made everything de- 

 lightful for everybody, and as kind-hearted a man as ever 

 lived. I remember he always w T ore a fine cambric ruffled 

 shirt front and a navy blue suit. He was very portly, and 

 yet as light as a feather. It was a treat to see hint dance; 

 he skimmed along as gracefully as a girl." 



The afternoon was not half gone when snow succeeded 

 rain, and the air was soon filled with the flying flakes. 

 The wind had gone down and so had the mercury, much 

 to Aaron's evident gratification, for it was freezing hard, 

 and to our own as well, for we were fully reconciled to 

 the thought of waking the following morning and find- 

 ing— 



"* * + the billowy hills 

 Swafa'd in the snowy robe that winter throws 

 So kindly over Nature; skoloton trees 

 Fringed with rich silver draping, and stream 



Dumb in its frosty chains." 



K.EUKA. 



A DEER HUNT ON RED CHUTE. 



BY appointment several of the Knox Point Gun Club 

 were to meet me at sunrise on Flat River, a mile 

 from Atkins's store, to t ke a deer drive. We were to 

 drive between Red O.mte a d Fiat River, and also Swan 

 Lake, as far down as High Island. In due time Mr. 

 Andrew Moss, James Atkins, James Joyner and Robert 

 Hutchinson came to Flat River Bridge, and. John Gra- 

 ham, James Hutchinson and his younger brother, not 

 members of the club, joined us. Mr. Andrew Moss had 

 his three hounds, Mr. James Hutchinson had two, and I 

 had two, which, with one of Mr. John Graham's, gave us 

 a pack of eight line deer hounds. 



My two old hounds, Buck and Stonewall, a very highly 

 prized present from my friend Mr. Ruff Perry, of Mar- 

 shall, Texas, were the best dogs I ever owned. They 

 would not open on any track but a fox, wildcat or deer. 

 Old Buck had one-fourth bloodhound in him. He was 

 undoubtedly the largest and finest looking hound I ever 

 sa w. Unfortunately he died during my absence at the 

 grand fair of Shreveport the middle of last November, 

 about a month after this hunt. 



The first drive we made we failed to get up a deer. In 

 the second drive I took the stand where I killed a beau- 

 tiful little buck a week before. We had t wo sets of 

 drivers. Mr. Andrew Moss and Graham drove on Flat 

 River with his hounds and mine. Mr. James Hutchin- 

 son drove by the side of a. long cypress brake. A path 

 leads along the north side of this brake, on which the 

 slanders were placed. Should they fail to kill the deer 

 it would cross Swan Lake, then dry, and go to the hills, 

 and were the dogs to follow them for some time, would 

 very often run to Lake Bisteneau and cross to the hills of 

 Bienville parish. 



Mr. Hutchinson started several deer that ran back up 

 Flat River and finally crossed Swan Lake near Red 

 Chute, where it empties into the lake. He followed his 

 dogs, and finally got a shot at a young deer, which he 

 shot dead. By the way, Mr. Hutchinson is one of the 

 best shots for deer and ducks in Red River bottom. It is 

 a very rare thing for him to miss. He is a Jehu in riding, 

 and it is not often a deer can escape without he gets a 

 shot at it. I have had some very pleasant hunts with 

 him this fall, which 1 intend to describe at an early day. 



Mr. Andrew Moss, the prince of deer hunters on the 

 east side of Red River, jumped two large bucks, which 

 ran below on Flat River, and finally crossed Swan Lake 

 at the Ripples. Mr. Poole and his little son were stand- 

 ing there, but failed to see the bucks as they passed 

 tlirough the stand. Mr. Poole, the father-in-law of Mr. 

 Andrew Moss, had been to Knox Point that morning, and 

 learning that the party had gone deer driving, hurried 

 back to his house, some six miles, got his little boy. who 

 always accompanies him, and galloped some five miles to 

 the Ripples, where he knew the deer would certainly 

 cross some time during the day. The Ripples is a re- 

 markable formation for the bottom of a long lake, which 

 is not less than ten miles long by a mile wide on high 

 water. Thick thorn bushes extend for a quarter of a 

 mile on the south side, and there a deep bayou, called 

 Alligator Bayou, runs parallel with the channel of the 

 lake. North of this bayou is an island densely covered 

 with thorn bushes, which comes to a good steep bank on 

 its north side. Along this runs a narrow slough, about 

 200yds. long and 50yds. wide. Across this slough is a 

 narrow willow island of the same length; it is not 20yds. 

 wide. At the east extremity of this slough is a big deer 

 lick when the lake is dry. Cattle from the hills and 

 bottom come there to lick. They have tramped it so 

 much, that after a rain the water stands on part of it 

 and makes a good watering place for stock. Deer go 

 there every night to lick and to drink in the summer and 

 fall. Below the lick is a wide extent of open ground for 

 several miles long, now without water on it, and covered 

 with goose grass. Above Willow Island is another wide 

 expanse of grassy land, two miles long. At the head of 

 this island is a narrow belt of hard clayey rock filled in 

 with thick beds of musselshells. Here the deer can ford 

 at any stage of low water, where they would mire at 

 other grounds. It is this favorite crossing to and from 

 the hills, which begin about a quarter of a mile from the 

 Ripples, but a strip of thick thorn bushes lies after they 

 pass the head of the island, between that and the hills. ' 



Mr. Poole and his son both took this position. He had 

 waited so long without hearing the hounds, that he left 

 his stand and went to another position below the lick, 

 and there kindled a fire, to eat his lunch and smoke. 

 While doing so, the big buck passed by both their stands 

 without their seeing them. When they heard the hounds 

 coming they ran back, and had the mortification to see 

 the hounds run the tracks of the immense deer not 20yds. 

 from them. Mr. Moss was close behind his hounds, "and 

 when he came to Mi*. Poole, his three blasts of his horn 

 at intervals brought up both standers and drivers. Here 

 We ate our lunch. Nothing had been killed up to this 

 time, except the one deer by Mr. James Hutchinson. 



Lunch over, we all rode down by the Alligator Bayou 

 to drive a famous drive known as the Bear Island drive. 

 Many a bear and wildcat had been killed by Mr. Poole on 

 this island before and since the war. Now there is not a 

 bear within forty miles of it. Last fall a freedman killed 

 near the head of the lake a small two-year old bear, the 

 first killed in the bottom for several years. No hunter in 

 this whole section of country has been so successful in 

 killing bear, deer and cats as Mr, Poole. On this same 

 island he has killed as many as three bear and five deer 

 in one day, just previous to the war. 



Bear Island is formed by Alligator Bayou on the west 

 side, Flat River on the south, and Swan Lake on the 

 north and east. It contains several thousands of acres of 

 land. When the lake is up there is not much of it but 

 what is covered with water. There is a pond on it that 

 never goes dry. Around this pond the bushes are very 

 thick, and it is a favorite place for deer to lie. When 

 started by hounds they either cross Alligator Bayou and 

 pass out by the Riffles, or cross the open space of Swan 

 Lake, now a grassy bed, to the hills. They never cross 

 Flat River at this point, as Mr. Poole has a big deadening 

 and clearing on the opposite side. 



Going down Alligator Bayou, the scene was enlivened 

 by a l'usilade of guns. Mr. James Atkins, the best 6hot 

 of the Gun Club, and who had shot but three times in his 

 life at deer, bagging at each shot, was in advance. A 

 mallard drake, that summered here, ran out of the bayou 

 and flew by him; he shot at missed, and so did four more 

 of the crowd. Five shots had been fired. We were 



