Forest and Stream. 



A Weekly Journal of the Rod and Gun. 



Terms, $4 a Yeah. 10 Cis. a Copy, i 

 Six Months, $2. I 



NEW YORK, AUGUST 29, 1889. 



j VOL. XXXIII.-No. 6. 

 1 No 318 Broad-wat, New 'Xobk. 



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CONTENTS. 



Editorial. 



A Chapter of Accidents. 

 Bits of Talk.-v. 

 The Sportsman Tourist. 

 Outdoors. 



Shooting on Mount Olympus. 



Oysters on Trees. 

 Natural History. 



My Chickens. 



The Grouse of Utah. 



Young Codfish on the Massa- 

 chusetts Cc ast. 

 Game Bag and Gun. 



Open Game Seasons. 



A Ducking (poetry). 



Gavlord Club of Chicago. 



Fields to be Harvested. 



Small -caliber Rifles. 



Worcester's Opening Day. 

 C amp-Fire Fxickkrings. 

 Sea and BrvsH Fishing. 



Uamps of the Kingfishers.-vu. 



A Trip to the Unknown River. 



A Week in the Laurent.ians. 



Western North Carolina Trout 

 Streams. 



Two Days on Koshee Lake. 



Maine Trout. 



FlSHCULTURE. 



Fishculture in the National 

 Park. 



Beam-Trawl Fishing. 

 The Kennel. 



Coursing. 



The Fox-Terrier. 



National Coursing Association 



The Registration Fee. 



Dog Talk. 



Kennel Notes. 



Kennel Management. 

 Riele and Trap Shooting. 



Range and Gallery. 



Our Team Abroad. 



The Trap. 



Keystone Tournament. 



Fargo Tournament. 



Chicago Yearly Triangle. 

 Yachting. 



The Plaint of the Singlehander 

 (poetry). 



Beverly Y. C. 



The Corinthian Races. 

 Canoeing. 



A. C. A. Meet. 

 New Publications. 

 Answers to Correspondents. 



A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 



IT is a thousand pities that the man who had the knack 

 of shooting to hit if it was a deer and miss if it was 

 a calf did not transmit his convenient skill to the present 

 generation, for the good of the human race. It would 

 have averted much suffering, sorrow and woe. 



The deer hunting season in the Adirondacks opened on 

 Aug. 15. Before sunset of that day the customary 

 fatality had occurred: and a sportsman, a New York 

 business man, who was hunting for deer, was himself 

 taken for a deer by another hunter, shot at and killed. 



This recalls the case of the Eonkonkoma, Long Island, 

 hotel proprietor who went out deer hunting one Sunday, 

 a year or two ago, and shooting at what he took to be a 

 deer, brought down his human victim. The count of men 

 who have been seriously wounded or killed outright by 

 blundering hunters Would be an extensive one. We do 

 not recall a more deplorable case than that of two mem- 

 bers of deer hunting parties in the Ozark region of Mis- 

 souri. One of these parties had gone into the woods 

 from Nevada, Mo., and the other from Wyandotte, Kan. 

 They camped near to each other, but neither knew of the 

 proximity of the other. One morning the two parties 

 left their camps, all clad in the hunter's garb, made of 

 ducking, which, at a distance, strongly resembles the 

 hair of a deer. About 9 o'clock that morning Will Requa 

 of the Nevada party fired at what he supposed to be a 

 deer moving through the woods, but the object proved to 

 be W. H. Gunter, one of the Wyandotte hunters. Requa 

 at once started forward to recover his game. Gunter, 

 who had been fatally wounded, and supposing Requa, 

 who was an entire stranger to him, was intending to kill 

 him, raised his gun and discharged both barrels at Requa, 

 killing him instantly. 



A deer hunter near Center Tremont, Maine, took his 

 comrade for a deer and lodged a buckshot in his leg; a 

 Parkersburg, West Virginia, man shot his comrade dead 

 under the same delusion; a Cowichin, British Columbia, 

 man killed a man for a deer, not knowing that any 

 hunter but himself was m the woods. 



The " man-target" has done duty for almost every spe- 

 cies of game, and for some objects not game, as witness 

 the hard experience of Mr. F. M. Nixon, of Marshview, 

 Pa . Last winter this gentleman and a Mr. Palmer were 

 riding in a sleigh, when. Palmer mistook Nixon's leg, 



which was outside the robe and inclosed in a gray leg- 

 ging, for a dog trying to get into the sleigh; drew his 

 revolver and promptly put a bullet where it would have 

 killed the dog. 



We reported some time ago a case of a man who was 

 hunting wild turkeys in Kentucky, and out of season at 

 that, and fired at a rustling in the leaves. The noise had 

 been made by another turkey hunter, who was seriously 

 wounded. Very similar to this was the case of John 

 Gurley, of St. Francis county, Ark., last spring. Gurley 

 was hidden in a patch of tall grass and was imitating 

 the cry of the wild turkey when his neighbor, who knew 

 nothing of his presence, shot into the grass, hoping to 

 kill a turkey. The ball , which was fired from a Winches- 

 ter rifle, entered the victim's shoulder; and his crippled 

 condition will all his life bear mute testimony to his skill 

 in imitating the turkey's call. 



A West Virginia farmer, who had been greatly annoyed 

 by groundhogs, one day took his gun and went up the 

 hill to a point from which he had frequently seen and 

 shot numbers of his tormentors, and lay in wait. In a 

 short time he saw a rustling in the weeds and grass below 

 bim. He fired, and then ran down to the spot, and to 

 his horror found that he had shot a small boy, who had 

 been out digging ginseng. 



A Maryland gunner, having killed a squirrel, slung it 

 over his back. Another gunner caught sight of it through 

 the brush, thought it was a live squirrel running up a 

 tree trunk, and blazed away. There was no question 

 after this that the squirrel was thoroughly dead, and at 

 last accounts the man with the peppered back was ex- 

 pected to live. A party of Pennsylvania bear hunters 

 had been dispersed during the day in the woods. The 

 first man who returned to camp climbed up into a tree 

 to break off browse for his bunk. Another hunter re- 

 turning just then thought the man up in the tree was a 

 bear. He fired and the man tumbled out of the tree 

 dead. 



Gen. Wade Hampton was once while deer hunting 

 mistaken for a bear, but there was nothing serious about 

 the incident as narrated by Fitzhugh Lee, one of his 

 companions on the hunt. 



at?" "I supposed it was a dog under there," replied the offlcer. 

 "Well, Bah, doan' you nebber 'spose no mo'! It's dangerous." 

 And he showed a ballet hole in his cap, and another in his coat, 

 as proofs of the accuracy of the officer's aim. He had crawled 

 under after a rabbit which had escaped from a neighbor. "It's 

 all right," he said as the offlcer apologized, "but doan' you 'spose 

 no mo'! You jist keep right down to cole facts. Dis 'sposin' 

 around ar' what gits pussons into ser'us truble." 



BITS OF TALK. 



"We were all dressed," said he, "in the rough fantastic hunting 

 costumes of the period. No deer was seen, but by the stand occu- 

 pied by one of the party there passed eighteen beautiful bare- 

 footed mountain girls picking whortleberries. The hunter saw 

 them, and was about to invite them to take a seat on his stand 

 when they caught sight of him. Whereupon the leading beauty 

 exclaimed, 'Great jimmy, gals, there's a bear,' and throwing 

 down their buckets they broke through the bushes down the 

 mountains like deer, and just about as wild." 



A Florida paper, the Clearwater Times, relates an ex- 

 traordinary experience by which Capt. James Meredith, 

 of DeSoto, nearly lost his life. One night, j ust after dark, 

 Capt. Meredith fixed a hunting lantern on his head and came 

 ashore to shoot raccoons, alligators, or any such game as he might 

 lind along the beach. His light was seen from Mr. John Blan- 

 ton's house and was construed to be something unaccountable, no 

 one being able to account for the peculiar light, which would be 

 suddenly very brilliant, and then as suddenly gone, the result of 

 Meredith turning his head in different directions. Mr. William 

 Harn, determined to capture that jack-o'-lantern, set out with a 

 .32call revolver, accompanied by Andrew O'Quinn. They hastened 

 along the beach in the direction it had been last seen, hoping to 

 be in its neighborhood when it should again show itself. It ap- 

 pears that Meredith had seen them coming, but they didn't see 

 him. When they walked up within about fifteen feet, Meredith 

 turned his face toward them, when the lantern startled them by 

 blazing in their eyes. They had seen nothing, and this sudden 

 flash so excited them that before Meredith had time to speak 

 Harn fired. The ball entered the cheek an inch or so below the 

 right eye and now lies buried about three inches deep in Meredith's 

 head. Dr. Edgar was sent for, but could not get the bullet, but 

 we understand that the patient is on the road to a rapid recovery. 

 Of course great regret is felt over the affair, but Meredith ap- 

 pears to be the most cheerful and least concerned. 



It is reasonable to assume that not one in five is re- 

 ported of the casualties where human beings are maimed 

 or killed by shooters who mistake them for wild ani- 

 mals, and go off half-cocked before knowing what they 

 are shooting at. The moral is contained in the injunc- 

 tion which a sable philosopher once gave a Detroit 

 policeman, as related in this veracious little tale from the 

 Free Press of that city: 



A woman on Lafayette street east rushed out the other day 

 and informed a policeman that she had seen a big dog crawl 

 under her barn, and she believed the animal mad. The offlcer 

 went around by way of the alley, accompanied by the usual 

 crowd, and, after peeking and peering for some time, he shot 

 three bullets under the harn to scare the dog out. After the 

 third shot a movement was heard, and presently the long end of a 

 colored man crawled into view. After backing out and brushing 

 the din out of his eyes he added: "Was it me vou were shooting 



V.— THE TEARS-AND-SOBS STORY. 



" T>LESS the boys. I like to come across them when 

 I am fishing. There is a satisfaction in talking 

 to them. Some of the dearest recollections of my angling 

 days are of the healthy, clear-skinned, clear-eyed, clear- 

 souled, innocent, ingenuous, unsophisticated, natural 

 country boys I have met," said the Fisherman. 



"Here's to the small boy, the brown-cheeked boy, the 

 bare-footed boy, the boy with the yellow dog and the 

 letter in the post-office," responded the Major, as he 

 parted the grass from the spring and quaffed a double 

 hollowed handful of the pure water. "To meet him and 

 talk with him is as refreshing as this cool spring on a 

 hot August day." 



"Noble sentiment," echoed the Famous Shot, "and 

 here's to the healthy, clear-complexioned, clear-skinned, 

 clear-eyed, clean-souled, unsophisticated, bare-footed 

 string of trout he will sell you for a quarter if he is 

 truly unsophisticated, but will charge you two dollars 

 and a half for if he is up to snuff. Of course you like to 

 run across him; and no doubt he likes to run across you, 

 too, when you have no fish, and he has a string to sell." 



"Don't be a cross-grained old cynic," retorted the Fish- 

 erman, rising from his prone position, with the spring 

 water dripping from his chin. "As for the boy's trout, I 

 would rather have stored away in my memory that little 

 picture given by Mr. Starbuck, in the Forest and Stream 

 the other day, of the boy and girl he met on the Board- 

 man, than of the biggest basket of biggest trout ever 

 caught. You were a bare-footed country boy once your- 

 self, though according to your own tell, if you were ever 

 unsophisticated it must have been in early infancy. 

 Don't forget that you snared partridges on the old farm, 

 and set figure-4s for rabbits, and owned a yellow cur dog, 

 too, or were owned by him, just as the Major here was.'' 

 ■Yes, I have heard of the Major's Carlo, the dog of 

 sentiment; how was it, Major?" 



"He had been owned by Rev. B. C. Phelps, a Methodist 

 preacher, stationed at Danielsonville, Conn.," responded 

 the Major, who does not hesitate having told a story 

 twenty times to tell it twenty-one times. "When Mr. 

 Phelps was removed to another charge he made me a 

 present of him. The dog took kindly enough to me, as 

 yellow dogs always do to small boys, and we struck up a 

 great friendship, and had glorious old times hunting 

 woodchucks and rabbits. It was 'hunting without a 

 gun,' but with Carlo's help I captured lots of game, such 

 as it was. The dog had not appeared to mind parting 

 from his former owner, and as time went by I took it for 

 granted that he had forgotten that he ever owned any 

 other master than myself. One day, it must have been 

 a year afterward, we had been out an a hard campaign 

 against the woodchucks, and I reached home just at sun- 

 down As I went into the house by one door Mr. Phelps 

 entered by another; he had been an intimate friend of 

 my father's, and now walked right in without any cere- 

 mony. After greetings by my father and mother, and 

 just as Phelps was seating himself, Carlo came running 

 in, without noticing that he was there. 'Why, Carlo!' said 

 Mr. Phelps. The dog stopped, looked, and with a bound 

 was in his old master's lap, and lay across his knees 

 motionless, with his head hanging down, while tears 

 rolled down from his eyes and dropped on the floor. 

 WeU, sir, at seeing the dog weep Phelps himself choked, 

 and the tears came into his eyes. Father he followed 

 suit, and I heard something that sounded like a sob from 

 mother." 



"Do you mean to say that the dog actually wept? 

 " It was as I tell you; I saw the tears; and I quite 

 agreed with Phelps when he said, ' This is the most affect- 

 ing scene of its kind I ever witnessed.' There was not a 

 dry eye in the house." 



" I'll warrant you boo-hooed too." 

 " I don't remember about that, but if I did not I should 

 be ashamed to own it." 



" Did any dog ever make you cry?" asked the Fisher- 

 man of the Famous Shot, 



