478 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Jan. 8, 1889. 



REMINISCENCES. 



EVERY sportsman who is really in love with his gun 

 and the woods will gather many pleasant recollec- 

 tions of camp life which will continue to live in memory 

 long after the actual scenes of his adventures have 

 passed away. From early boyhood I have handled the 

 rod and gun, and it was then I first ventured into the 

 wilds of the Alleghenies, eager to learn the business, but 

 too much afraid of wild animals and of getting lost to 

 trust myself out of sight oi older persons. 



The first few trips were made in company with stal- 

 wart men, who generally dragged me over the hills 

 from day to day, until my tender frame seemed ready 

 to part at every joint; and when night drove us to camp 

 and hunger made fat bacon a relish, I could take my 

 share with evident satisfaction. 



On one occasion I accompanied some hunters to the 

 mountains for a few days' stay at an abandoned sawmill. 

 One morning the tracks of a catamount were seen along 

 the tramway leading in the direction of our proposed 

 hunt; they were quiet fresh. Henry, being the senior 

 member of our party, conducted its movements and gave 

 general directions; he now proposed beating the brush 

 before going any further. I was ordered to a point sev- 

 eral hundred yards distant from where the tracks were 

 discovered, but I kept my companion well in sight. The 

 dog started and worked along the stream for a short 

 time. Within half an hour the catamount was in motion, 

 but kept under cover until pressed too closely by the dog. 

 when he attempted to cross the tramway and was brought 

 to the ground by a well-directed shot from Henry's rifle. 

 I had no desire to see the animal alive much less to shoot 

 him, and was, therefore, greatly relieved to find his dead 

 carcass lying dneetly at the point where his tracks had 

 first been seen. In moving about after the watch just 

 ended my companion spied the tracks of two deer, and 

 suggested that we take the trail, while the rest of the 

 party concluded their war dance over the dead cata- 

 mount. 



The hillside was scantily timbered, the more valuable 

 trees having been taken out, logs and brush made pro- 

 gress slow, and boy-like I followed, looking only for the 

 next best place to set foot. My companion was but a few 

 paces in advance and scarcely half way to the top. Hear- 

 ing the click of ins triggers, I btepped aside in time to see 

 two deer bound away from an uprooted tree, separating 

 at the start and running in almost opposite unections. A 

 few bounds put tbe doe out of sight, but the buck ran to 

 the top of the ridge and stopped. Here was my chance 

 at 100yds. range. One barrel of my gun was rifled, the 

 other charged with buckshot. As might have been 

 expectpd. I made a mistake and fired the buckshot. The 

 deer moved on. We were soon where he had stood when 

 I shot, but could see nothing to indicate that he was 

 wounded. Tnere was abundance of snow, and we fol- 

 lowed on, hoping to overtake ana kill the deer. He must 

 have taken iio for new hands, because we were able to 

 catch glimpses of him frequently without an opportunity 

 for a shot. Finding a half day's trailing of this kind 

 rather monotonous we bid him a final adieu. 



R.sing refreshed next morning, I was prepared for 

 breaitfast and a full day. Plans had already been laid, 

 so no time was wasted, and in a little while I stood alone 

 to guard one of the runouts. Time passed slowly, the 

 thouglits of yesterday's catamount and other visions 

 caused cold chills to piny up and down my spinal column. 

 Remaining possibly an hour without hearing the dog or 

 seeing any of the party, I concluded to take the trad of 

 the man who was watching higher up the stream. 

 Shortly after reaching him we heard our dog, and when 

 we again met the drivers we were informed that he had 

 chased a deer over the very crossing at which I had been 

 standing. My record thus far looked rather bad, but the 

 old fellows were a good-natured set and freely forgave 

 me. In crossing a stream we came upon a cabin, at 

 which we halted to rest. 



Leaving the cabin we ascended a ridge, and upon 

 reaching its summit saw the freshly made beds of two 

 deer. They had evidently taken fright at our approach 

 and were traveling toward a thicket. From some cause 

 the party divided after my blunder in the morning and 

 now numbered but three. Hugh meditated a few mo- 

 ments then said that Gid and I should take the trail and 

 he would keep a lookout for the deer. We did so, but 

 Hugh soon disappeared, and when we saw him fifteen 

 minutes later was wearing a broad smile. Near him 

 lay a fine doe which proved to be one of the deer we 

 were following. Hugh had grown old hunting deer and 

 knew what was to happen when he left the trail to us 

 and slipped, out of sight. Probably two Hides intervened 

 between us and our camp and this deer could not be per- 

 mitted to remain so far from home, for there are some 

 thieves even among hunters. 



Hugh excused himself from lending assistance by sug- 

 gesting that we fasten a rope to the deer's legs and drag- 

 it, theie being plenty of snow upon the ground, and he 

 would hurry to camp and have supper prepared for us, 

 including heart and liver. Both Gid and myself enter- 

 tained the belief that we were the victims of a forced 

 contract, but were soon on the way. The only relief I 

 could give was on down hill stretches, when the guns 

 were cariied by my partner. I had been trudging along 

 for some time, trying to find the clear spots in a thicket 

 througu which we were passing, when a buck jumped up 

 and ran broadside within a few feet of me. I had a gun 

 on each shoulder, which placed me in a somewha t helpless 

 condition. Every time I think of that buck I can see the 

 twinkle in his eye as he dashed by and disappeared in the 

 thick brush. W T earily we tugged along until the stream 

 near the camp was reached, a nd there strung up our game 

 and departed to find on arrival a well cooked meal, of 

 which we partook with great relish. F. G 



Tvrotce. Va. 



[TO BE CONTINUED.] 



Kansas.— Cimarron, Kan., Dec. 15.— You asked about 

 pigeon roosts some time since. There was a big one 25 



miles southeast of last summer. It was in a canon 



and was about four miles long and from 100 to 200yds. 

 wide. They were not molested and left in peace for 

 winter quarters. State the fact but do not give location 

 I will take any scientific man down there if he wants to 

 go next summer. But I don't want them netted or killed 

 -u f come back nexfc 8Umm er, which they probably 

 will. There are more antelope in western Kansas thau 

 there have been for the last three years. Cause, settlers 



leaving the country and antelope coming back from the 

 Sotithwest. There are a hundred within fifteen miles of 

 Cimarron.— W. J. D. 



THE YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



With the opening of winter the large game animals 

 began to collect on then- usual range in the northern sec- 

 tion of the Park. Thousands of elk can be seen in bands 

 from ten to hundreds. Early in the day they are feeding 

 in the valleys, on the hillsides and ridges; before noon 

 most of them seek shaded and sheltered places to bed, 

 until a little before sunset, when they again appear on 

 their feeding ground. Now they are dainty about their 

 food, pawing the deep loose snow away from the choice 

 bunch grass, where it is still green and tender under the 

 drifts. By spring they are not so particular. Then the 

 snow is very deep and crusted, the little grass to be found 

 is bleached ; this, with willows, quaking asp and even fir 

 twigs, constitute their only food until the snow begins to 

 melt. One can find elk within a short distance of the 

 Mammoth Hot Springs. They have been within 300yds. 

 of the quarters. Entering the Swan Lake basin, either 

 by the old road or the Golden Gate, you see elk at once, 

 and by going on to the ridge between Glen Rock, Gardi- 

 ner River, hundreds can be seen. The scout at the springs 

 never fails to see elk in great numbers in this basin. 



On Mt. Evarts, besides elk, there are about 300 ante- 

 lope, fifty mountain sheep and a few blacktail deer. 

 The latter were very plenty, but most of them have gone 

 to their range in the lower country. The mountain sheep 

 frequent the Gardiner and Third Canons. Those in the 

 Gardiner Cation are very tame, paying very little atten- 

 tion to passing men or teams. Often a band wdl he 

 within less than 50vds. of the road, some feeding, others 

 lying down or looking at the passer-by with no apparent 

 interest. The young lambs show the most curiosity for 

 a while; then they, too, become familiar, and show no 

 fear when they are undisturbed by man, as they are in 

 the Park. The antelope do not appear to grow much 

 tamer than they have been for the past three years. 



Parties traveling the Cook City road, either from Gardi- 

 ner via the "Turkey Pen" or Mammoth Hot Springs, are 

 in sight of game all the way to Soda Butte. The elk are 

 most numerous about Specimen Ridge, although they are 

 to be seen by hundreds in the Black Tail Creek country 

 and about Yancey's Station, on Elk Creek. It is wonder- 

 ful to see the immense bands everywhere, like domestic 

 cattle on the range or buffalo in the "days gone by," It 

 is incredible to any one who has not seen the game here 

 to believe that there is so great a number. 



Last winter it was estimated that there were about 

 4,000 elk in the northern part of the Park. Add to that 

 this summer's increase, somewhere near 3,000 calves. 

 Some of the best judges place the whole number now at 

 near 8,000, but I think that figure too high. 



No one knows how many elk there are in the southern 

 part of the Park, probably very few, as thpre is but a 

 limited area suitable for a winter range. That a great 

 many rear their young and spend the summer there is 

 well known, and it is known also that there are several 

 thousand that pass the winter south of the Park, only to 

 return in the spring. These do not have the protection 

 the northern bands "do, only the laws of Wyoming keep 

 the skin and market hunters from "finishing them up in 

 a short time." The worst enemy these elk have are the 

 Shoshone and Bannock Indians. Hundreds of these In- 

 dians left their reservation last summer and spent months 

 in the country just south of the Park, killing a great 

 many elk. The greatest damage done by the Indians 

 though, is letting fires get out. One fire north of the 

 Tetons burned several hundred acres of heavy fir tim- 

 ber. This fire is supposed to have been caused by Ban- 

 nock Indians. So far as known these Indians did not 

 hunt inside the Park boundary. Captain Harris did 

 everything in his power to have them kept on then reser- 

 vation, but very little attention was paid to his request by 

 the Department. In their travels to and from the Semhi 

 agency they cross the southwestern corner of the Park at 

 Falls River, where they usually spend some time hunting 

 moose and elk. 



The Forest and Stream band of buffalo have re- 

 turned to Hayden Valley and the Alum Creek country 

 where they spent last winter. They have been seen sev- 

 eral times this fall, but no accurate count has been made 

 as to their number, and the proportion of bulls, cows and 

 calves. On one occasion, when partially in the timber, 

 seventy-five were counted. This band can be seen any 

 time by any one willing to make a snowshoe trip. Hp 

 to the first of this month the trip could have been made 

 on horseback. Buffalo are also to be seen in the Lower 

 Geyser Basin, but in smaller bands. Mr. Wilson, the 

 Government scout, counted fourteen calves in one band 

 this past summer, while most of them were in the edge 

 of the timber. These buffalo frequent only a timbered 

 country, and thus are very difficult to count. 



In August Messrs. Walter Weede and Madding, of the 

 TJ. S. Geological Survey, saw a band of eighteen buffalo, 

 thirteen bulls, three cows and two calves, on Pelican Cone 

 east of the Grand Canon. One of the soldiers stationed at 

 Soda Butte, while scouting in this same section, reported 

 seeing a band, supposed to be the same. In the summer 

 I saw sign where a few buffalo had passed the winter 

 before on Pelican Creek, I therefore think these buffalo 

 winter on the east side of the Yellowstone, and do not 

 join those that winter on Alum Creek, and so can be 

 counted separately. In October I followed a band of 

 eight from Lewis to Shoshone Lake. These were ap- 

 parently on their way to Hayden Valley. With this year's 

 increase 1 think there are at least two hundred and' fifty 

 buffalo in the Park. It was feared that they would drift 

 out and be killed, as parties were on the watch for them. 

 Fortunately they have not been far from their winter 

 range, which is well toward the center of the reservation. 

 I see it reported in some papers that wolves, mountain 

 lynx, bear, etc. have increased here to an alarming 

 extent; that they are killing cattle and horses outside the 

 reservation, etc. That wdl do to tell marines and pil- 

 grims. These animals have undoubtedly increased in 

 proportion with the game, and will stay inside the Park 

 with the game or whatever they prey on, except the 

 bears. These "hole up" in winter and are apt to be out of 

 the Park one day and in it next. That it will- be neces- 

 sary to kill some of these animals at some future time is 

 apparent This can easily be done in winter by the use 

 of poisoned baits. 



There is about the usual amount of snow for this time 

 of the year — at the Upper Basin about fifteen inches, ten 

 at the Lower Basin, growing deeper to ward Norris. From 

 there to Willow Park thirty inches, and the 6ame at the 

 Grand Canon. H. 



Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone National Park. 



A CHRISTMAS STORY. 



Written for The Veterans' Christmas Carol, by Gen. X. M. Curtis, Comman- 

 der Department, N. Y., G. A. R. 



AT the close of a quiet day in camp, in the month of October, 

 1864— one of those peaceful yet busy days in which we had 

 made substantial preparations for active hostilities, in distribu- 

 ting arms and equipments to a large number of recruits who 

 had joined us— 1 received orders to march my brigade in the 

 early morning, "with two days" cooked rations andforcy rounds." 

 Our army corps was to make a reconnoissanee in the direction 

 of the enemy's left, and it was intimated that if any weak points 

 were found in his line, I would receive orders to test one of them 

 with "cold steel." 



While preparing orders for the march, my ears were saluted 

 with merry peals of laughter, following the relating of some re- 

 markable adventures, in which the bow had been drawn very 

 long for the benefit of the recruits who gave listening ears, and, 

 not infrequently, answered with incidents of civil life quite as 

 marvelous as any in the field; snatches of song, some jolly, others 

 sober, from one quarter, aline or two falling in between the mer- 

 rier sounds, 



"A dav's march nearer home." 



and, 



"He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free," 

 coming up from those unconscious of the fact that before tho set- 

 ting of the morrow's sun they would be sharply engaged with 

 the enemy, and many would contend in their last battle. 



These sounds, so dissonant to my line of thought, oppressed me 

 with indescribable feelings, which ever came over me when ar- 

 ranging Dions of battle, surrounded by men who were to execute 

 them, and from whom, by the custom of the service, knowledge 

 of intended movements was withheld uutil revealed on t ue march 

 or by the order of attack. These experiences I recall, after twenty 

 odd years, as among the most disagreeable sensations connected 

 with the service. 1 went out to shake off in a sharp walk my un- 

 pleasant feelings, before turning in. 



Having passed through the camps, and returning from tbe ex- 

 treme left, 1 was attracted by the voice of oae of the recruits who 

 said, "Now, we have had a big one from one of the 'bai tie-scarred,' 

 let me tell you one of the 'honest Injun sort,' which happened m 

 tbe Adirondack wilderness." 



I was interested by his reference to that section of the State, 

 riBing between the valleys of the St. Lawrence and Mohawk in 

 succession of mountain ranges and lofty peaks, covered with 

 primeval forest, silver-streaked by streams and lakes, in which 

 the gimiest of lish, eager to be caught, would jump out of their 

 element to take toe sportsman's hook; the retiring place for 

 game which shared with the Indian the land bet ween the Atlantic 

 and the prairies. Civilization has sent the Indian to the plains 

 and Rockies, but nature preserved this wilderness an asylum for 

 the moose, caribou and deer; for its rigorous climate forbade its 

 ever becoming fit for the habitation of man. 



In the vaileya surrounding this wilderness had been born the 

 greater number of men und. r my command, and from the south 

 door of my own home could I see the mountain ranges rising 

 aoove the beautiful valloy of the St. Lawrence. 



Standing by a large tree, unobserved, yet within easy earshot, I 

 heard 



THE SPORTSMAN'S STOKY. 



"In the summer of 1863 1 left New York with two others to spend 

 our vacation in the Adirondacks. We had three hounds, the 

 property of the senior of our party, who had large experience m 

 Hunting in Virgiuia before the war, and had twice been in the 

 Nort h Woods. He knew the habits of game, and was a good shot. 

 The third member and myself had no acquaintance with the for- 

 est and handled a rifle with as little dexterity as I do the musket 

 issued to me to-day. 



"We engaged two guides, and made our principal camp on In- 

 dian Lake, from which we made huuting excursions, returning to 

 camp after each one for a day or two of rest. These trips were 

 often long, much longer than you would suppose gentlemen seek- 

 ing recreation and rest would willingly take; for, after each hunt 

 we were compelled to travel longer distances to get favorable 

 stands on untried runways. 



'The deep-mouth'd bloodhound's heavy bay' 

 fills one with sensations no other sport awakens— an indescriba- 

 ble glow and frenzy, carrying one into a fever, unnerving him at 

 the critical moment: he sees the deer coming straight toward 

 him; he spasmodically clutches his gun; as the deer nears him 

 his demoralization is complete, and if he fires at all the shot goes 

 wide of the mark. Buck-fever, which seizes the unskilled hunter, 

 allows many deer to escape on the runways, and transfers tne 

 finish to the lake, where, with club and shotgun, the capture is 

 easily made." 



Such was the substance of his story, omitting many descriptions 

 and finishing touches not necessary to repeat. He closed without 

 response, as he had related it without interruption. 



After a pause he said: "You must regard my story as tame, 

 quite too tame to interest those familiar with sterner events." 



"No," said one of the. oldest of the men, who had seen three 

 years of active service, "it is not tame. It don't strike me that 

 you gave the deer a fair chance. It is too much like shooting 

 pickets without notice, after a week's trading tobacco and coffee 

 between tbe lines." 



"You are right, comrade," said another, "I don't think it's fair 

 to draw a line on a poor devil who has run the gauntlet of a dozen 

 shots, if he does leave a portion of his body exposed after reach ing 

 shelter. We break for big timber ourselves, sometimes, you 

 know." 



"Yes, that is so," said another of the old men, "it's well to think 

 of the other fellow, for we are about as often under his Are as we 

 have the drop oh him." 



The bold hunter felt the rebuke, and said he was the only new 

 man in that group who had spoken, and wished some other re- 

 cruit would take the stand and relieve him from further 

 criticism. 



"Yes," said one, "if I were in your place I would look for relief 

 guard." 



"You tell one," said tho hunter, pointing to a new man who sat 

 apart from the rest. 



THE SURVEYOR'S STORY. 



"My story is suggested by the one just related and will be a con- 

 tinuation of the sportsman's. It gives something of the deer's 

 side. 



"In July, 1868, 1 was employed by a lumber di m to examine tim- 

 ber lands in that regi< n of the great wilderness in which tne 

 hunting party to which out friends belonged was camped." 



"Yes,'' said the hunter, "it was in July, 1863, that we had the 

 successful hunting trip, during which the events I have related 

 took place, and if some seal la wag had not shot two of our houads 

 we would have remained a fortnight longer in the wilderness. 

 We suspected the lumber agents then hunting the best timber 

 lands for the next winter's cutting. When they get a chance at 

 the State lands, they are pretty sure to help themselves to the 

 best, regardless of ownership." 



"I am content to have you finish your story before I begin mine, 

 and I trust you will do so. When you are done, I will proceed." 



"All right. I am done," said the hunter. "Go ahead wit h what 

 you have to say. You may be the man who shot our dogs." 



"I had a siugle guide," said the surveyor, "who was caterer and 

 cook. Our foud consisted of supplies brought from the settlement 

 and trout caught by the guide. I directed him to get a buck, if 

 possible, but not to shoot a doe, us they were suckling their fawns, 

 and, should he get one, she would be unfit for food, and her fawn 

 would starve. His plan was stalking, but he failed to get one, as 

 the baying of the dogs had driven the deer beyond his reach. 



"I had gone over a greater portion of the property my employers 

 desired me to make a map of. I arose early the last day of my 

 sojourn with the expectation of completing my work and leaving 

 for the settlement. I had gone about two miles from my camp, 

 when in crossing a rocky ridge destitute of timber, only here and 

 there small shrubs growing among the rocks, 1 saw twenty rods 

 beyond a movement in the brush, indicating the presence of some 

 animal. I .examiued my rifle to see if it was ready for use, and 

 ascending a knoll near by saw a deer moving slowly across the 

 open space. Her movements seemed uncertain, and when she 

 stopped for a moment she stood on sea legs and supported herself 

 with difficulty. 



"I watched her with interest for several minutes until she 

 passed out of sight into the thick forest. I knew by her pace that 

 1 could soon overtake her and walked cautiously in the direction 

 she took. 



"In ten minutes I came in sight of her again. She had been 

 joined by her famishing fawn, which lustily drew its rations 'in 

 kind,' while every drop taken from the provident breast reduced 



