184 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept. 26, 1889. 



QUAIL IN THE RED RIVER BOTTOM.— I. 



THE month of January last beheld the raging waters 

 of Father Red bursting through the levees on both 

 sides, some eight miles below Shreveport, La. The entire 

 country from Bayou Pierre to the levee that confined 

 the back water, was a sea of red waters. Those planters, 

 who wisely had made high levees on the rear of the 

 plantations, to keep the water back from their cultivated 

 lands, were comparatively safe: but the water from the 

 river was nearly at the top of the front levees, while 

 sipe water was running through the cultivated lands, 

 nay under the very house.-;; and grave fears prevailed 

 that the front levees could not be kept from breaking. 



The morning was as balmy as one in spring, though it 

 was only the second week in January. The rays of the 

 sun appeared to fall with unusual warmth, and as it were, 

 motherly compassion on the drooping drowned plants, 

 animating them into a renewed lease of life. I was sit- 

 ting on the veranda steps watching the scene with great 

 interest, when suddenly some pigeons darted across the 

 garden, and on looking up I saw a large hawk in pursuit. 

 In a moment I brought out the Greener from my room; 

 the pigeons had escaped to the rear yard, but the hawk 

 was circling around, each circuit taking it higher into 

 the blue vault of heaven, when I raised the gun and fired. 

 Its wings closed to its breast, and down it fell at the feet 

 of my daughter, who barely had time to avoid its falling 

 on her head. She had noticed it trying to catch the 

 pigeons, and was unaware of my getting the gun to kill 

 it, until she heard the shot, and my exclamation, "Look 

 out for your head, Anne." "You robber/' she cried, 

 "never more will you catch my pretty pigeons and Ply- 

 mouth Eocks; your wings and tail shall serve as fans to 

 keep off mosquitoes this summer, and remind me of this 

 occasion." I went up to where the grand bird lay on its 

 back gasping; its eyes were as piercing and fierce as when 

 in pursuit of its prey: uot for one instant did it lose the 

 dauntless, fierce aspect with which it looked straight into 

 the eyes of me, its murderer. 



The whole affair roused in me a desire to go shooting. 

 I had not been hunting but a few times for birds the en- 

 tire season. I now wished to exercise my pointers and 

 to have a day's sport. ""Vantura, if you can lay aside 

 your painter's brush to-morrow, I will'go with yoii to the 

 Clyde Pickett plantation, where, I am told, are several 

 bevies of partridges. The negroes will kill them all, as 

 the waters drive them to the high fronts of the levees, 

 and we may as well shoot them as leave them for the 

 negroes. Death anyhow is the result to the birds. I will 

 load shells and we will start after an early breakfast. It 

 is only five miles distant, hue the mud and waters will 

 require a three hours' ride to get there." 



By 10 o'clock we were on the grounds. A small space 

 of twenty or thirty acres of coco land had been inclosed, 

 a part of which had grown up with red corn-peas, which 

 formed a dense mass of vines, under which a great many 

 peas were lying, as this species of pea does not rot for 

 years, though covered in the earth. Another part was 

 covered with the dew-berry vines, dense and some two 

 feet high. Here and there hogs had rooted deep holes 

 for the coco tubers, which were now filled with sipe 

 water, yet there was dry ground where no holes had been 

 rooted. Here, no less than eight large bevies of par- 

 tridges were feeding. In the rear of this inclosure was 

 the raging Red River, and on the opposite bank stood the 

 store and many tenant houses of Capt. Billy Robson, the 

 oldest living pioneer in Shreveport. It was death to the 

 poor birds to fly across, death where they were, and al- 

 most death to fly to the high grass nearly covered with 

 sipe water. 



This was the place to which Vantura and I had come 

 for a morning's sport. I had brought with me my two 

 pointers, black Maud and Dan's Trump. Vantura did not 

 take his setter bitch Cora, because her puppies were only 

 two weeks old. "Look at Dan's," he exclaimed, as the 

 grand young dog was ranging over the grass and sipe 

 water so splendidly. It was a beautiful picture. I gazed 

 with admiration as I saw the puppy strike the scent of 

 the birds several hundred yards off, inside the inclosure. 

 Maud was held back by us, and had not been permitted 

 to range as yet. He did not halt, but threw up his head 

 higher, slightly slackening his speed, and gentlv moved 

 forward to the wire fence, where he grew rigid as a 

 statue. Maud saw him and backed at once. We get off 

 our horses, put sufficient cartridges into our shooting 

 coats and got over the fence. The birds were feeding in 

 fancied security. By the time we could lower the wire 

 for the dogs to get through they had fed a hundred yards 

 from the fence, when we flushed. Vantura bagged two 

 and I missed with both barrels. The birds were very 

 gentle; did not know their danger; flew a short distance 

 and lighted. Both Maud and Dan's retrieved the birds. 

 As Maud is quite deaf, I waved to her to range ahead. 

 Before getting to the birds, at which he had just shot, 

 each pointer, at the same instant, came to a beautiful 

 point. Dan's had his left hind foot raised to spring, as 

 the warm scent struck his delicate nose, and he grew in- 

 stantaneously rigid in that position. He looked the exact 

 image of his grandsire, DihVy's Ranger. "You take 

 Dan's birds," I said to Vantura, "I will take Maud's." 

 He flushed a new bevy and missed with both barrels. 

 Old Maud stood as firm as the pillars of Hercules; I ad- 

 vanced before her. Another fresh bevy flew up, and I 

 got two to my two barrels, while Vantura gathered in 

 one and missed one. 



The birds were retrieved that I killed, but Dan's made 

 a point as he dashed to recover the bird shot down by 

 Vantura. It was only winged. We reloaded and went 

 to Dan's, Maud followed and backed, turning her head 

 in an opposite position. "There is another bevy here, " I 

 said to Vantura, "because the birds we shot at flew to 

 another part of the inclosure. Let Dan's hold your 

 wounded bird while I flush those Maud has pointed. I 

 want to see whether he will keep his point after hearing 

 us shoot." 



The birds were flushed, a fresh bevy; I bagged two, 

 Vantura missing; and to my great delight Dan's heeded 

 our shots no more than if he were deaf. Going up we 

 ordered him to "hie on," and he made a spring, seized 

 the wounded bird and brought it to me, as proud as if he 

 had gained a victory. Though such a fine retriever 

 never hurting the bird, yet he will not give up the bird, 

 but turns his head to one side to prevent its being taken 

 from him, and I cannot get the bird from his mouth 

 until I can hold him and take it away. He never runs 

 off but keeps moving around my feet. Vantura says it 

 is because he is so proud, and that he will get over this 



habit as he gets older; but I am afraid he never will. I 

 would like to know if any of the readers of the Forest 

 and Stream has had any experience on this point. I am 

 afraid if I punish him and force him to put down the 

 bird he will not retrieve at all. He has always retrieved 

 naturally without any instruction. 



We had only taken some thirty cartridges each with 

 us, and these were soon shot away, bagging some thirty 

 partridges in all. I kilted a bird or two more than Van- 

 tura. We returned home with the determination to go 

 back the next day with more cartridges, and as this was 

 to he my last hunt for partridges, to shoot as long as I 

 could see to shoot and had a bird for my target. 



I was very much pleased with the day's sport, with our 

 shooting, and more with the good qualities exhibited by 

 Dan's Trump. If Maud could hear as well as Dan's, I 

 would not exchange her for any dog in the sporting 

 world. As it is, no man can get her. Uarda. 



Gold Dust Landing, La. 



KANSAS MISADVENTURES. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



The following outline of a recent hunting episode is 

 not given in a spirit of bravado, but merely as an honest 

 attempt at exemplifying the maimer in which the Kan- 

 sas game laws are enforced by the local powers that be. 

 Please reserve comments, for we appreciate all that 

 might be said to our discredit. 



A party of seven started from the Missouri State line 

 for a point 150 miles in the interior of Kansas, which 

 point we will call Dennis, after prairie chickens, five days 

 before the close season was up. Our breaking of the law 

 was on account of authentic information that the farmers 

 had been shooting chickens for a month before our 

 advent, and that if we desired to secure even a sample 

 we must anticipate the open season. 



In our party was the private clerk of a railroad digni- 

 tary, through whose courtesy we enjoyed the comforts 

 of the latter's private car. Unfortunately a certain 

 physician in the village of Dennis had shortly before our 

 trip been deposed from the position of local surgeon to 

 this railroad, which was combination No. 1. Our pilot 

 to the hunting grounds was a Democratic ex-postmaster 

 of Dennis, and was most thoroughly disliked becam-e a 

 Democratic administration had forced him upon the 

 honest farmers of that burgh. This was combine No. 2. 

 Each member of our party was notorious for paying his 

 debts, and this fact, in connection with the other that 

 the local finances of Dennis were below zero, rendered 

 us fair game from which to replenish a depleted county 

 treasury. This was combination No. 3, all against us. 



In our 150 miles of travel to Dennis we passed through 

 some of the best farming country and most extensive 

 areas of corn that it was ever our for time to see. Mile 

 after mile there was nothing but waving fields of corn, 

 averaging 10ft. high, and every stalk supporting two and 

 three ears. A. subsequent trip in a more southerly direc- 

 tion shows the same; the corn crop in this State cannot 

 begin to be moved by the railroads this fall, and the 

 writer is an old railroad man and knows whereof, etc. 



Well, we arrived at Dennis at 1 A. M. ; commenced to 

 hustle at 3, and had our teams, ice, and all etceteras on 

 the move by 4:30. We had five dogs, and coursed due 

 south, and by daybreak were far enough from town to 

 expect some hunting. Out here, when on a chicken 

 shoot, there being no fences, a party simply sits in a 

 wagon and drives over the prairies, sending out the dogs 

 at will, and only getting out of the wagon when a dog 

 comes to a point. We had one setter who was brought 

 up to chicken ranging, and who would cover twenty 

 rods while you were cocking your gun; one pointer who 

 was a first-class retriever, but who persisted in rushing 

 in after the first chicken was down and bringing in his 

 bird, and three other dogs who were enjoying— to our 

 discomfiture— their first experience, and about which the 

 least said the better. 



Our destination was about twenty miles south of 

 Dennis, where we arrived about noon with fourteen 

 chickens. We had understood that Mrs. Dodge, on whose 

 farm we proposed to camp, would feed the outfit; but 

 imagine our disappointment upon arrival to find that, 

 being ten miles lioni a post office, she had received no 

 word of our coming, and was totally unprepared to take 

 care of us. Everything in the house was at our disposal, 

 but you know what it takes to care for seven men, two 

 drivers and two teams. Mrs. Dodge was not in very good 

 health either, having been blown 100yds. by a cyclone 

 and bitten by a rattlesnake within the past year or so; 

 but in spite of infirmities she acted the mother to us all. 

 By good luck we carried along a little coffee and sugar, 

 and this, with what game we shot, together with some 

 milk and eggs, constituted our commissary until the con- 

 stables—but we anticipate. 



We cast anchor about noon. Our tent poles were lost 

 in the shuffle and were carried back by mistake; there is 

 absolutely no timber in that section of the country, and 

 we stripped the farm before we could secure enough tim- 

 ber to pitch our wall tent; but we finally succeeded, and 

 after dividing up into two parties and getting a couple 

 of dozen more chickens before dark, we dug a trench 

 around our tent by the light of a lantern, for which fore- 

 sight we were profoundly thankful the next morning, as 

 it rained at daybreak and nearly carried away our whole 

 outfit. Boxes, guns, dogs, drivers and party were piled 

 in one promiscuous mass on top of a little pile of hay as 

 nearly under the peak of the tent as possible, while we 

 expected every moment to see the entire affair collapse 

 with the. wind. 



The rain spoiled that morning's work, but we turned 

 to in the afternoon and by hard work captured a couple 

 of dozen more, making sixty-two chickens in all. These 

 were drawn as soon as brought to camp, stuffed with 

 grass and packed on ice in a box at the bottom of Mrs. 

 Dodge's cyclone cellar. 



At 6 o'clock next morning, just as we were getting 

 ready to start out again, three horsemen rode up to our 

 tent, read a warrant for our arrest, and toted us seven- 

 teen miles across the country to the residence of the jus- 

 tice who had issued the warrant, It seems the good peo- 

 ple of Dennis had deputized the doctor mentioned here- 

 tofore in this article, to swear out a warrant for our ar- 

 rest, but not to do so until we returned to Dennis and 

 were all ready to leave, but the disciple of Esculapius 

 got drunk— in spite of living in Kansas— hitched up his 

 team and drove over to a justice residing in the town in 

 which we were shooting, swore out the warrant at mid- 



night and insisted upon its being served at once. The 

 result was that his own town derived no benefit from the 

 penalty imposed upon us, while if he had waited until 

 the fruit was ripe the farmers could have squeezed .$45 

 out of our party. 



We arrived 'at the justice's house about 11 o'clock, 

 made friends all around, demanded an immediate trial, 

 which was had as soon as they could send for the com- 

 plaining witness and States Prosecutor, six miles away, 

 and as .the easiest way out of the matter — they had no 

 evidence excepting our intent — we let one of our party 

 plead guilty for all, and the Justice imposed the lowest 

 fine allowed by law and cut his own fees one-half, mak- 

 ing a total fine of $29.15. He furthermore said that all 

 the farmers' boys around there were shooting chickens 

 daily and no complaints were made, and if we chose to 

 stay at his house we could unhitch our teams and put up 

 and go right out into the fields and shoot and he would 

 guarantee no molestation on the part of any one. 



A great ado was made by the Dennisvillians because 

 the constable failed to secure our chickens. They were 

 so eager to tap our pocketbooks that they overlooked all 

 details, but when the chief constable told them that a 

 search warrant was necessary if they expected him to 

 bring in property they saw the point at once. Our 

 chickens were taken fourteen miles across the country 

 at midnight, shipped by first express and reached home 

 before we did, still on ice and in excellent shape. We 

 were offered $4 per dozen for them, but as we are not 

 pot-hunters money could not purchase a single chicken. 

 While as law-abiding a party as the average we believe 

 the sixty-two chickens we secured are just that number 

 less for the sharks who prosecuted us and for the honest 

 farmers who have been shooting them since before they 

 were able to fly. 



No exaggeration to say that in a number of instances 

 on this trip members of the party could have repeatedly- 

 killed little toddling quail with a whip. They are very 

 numerous, but still more so in the vicinity of Bailey viile, 

 which has been visited by the writer and others during 

 the past week. Col. D. R. Anthony's farm, near Bailey- 

 ville, is a paradise for quail, and he has five hounds there 

 which he keeps for no other purpose than to course jack 

 rabbits: they will sight and run one down within a mile, 

 and no questions asked. 



There were numerous ludicrous incidents interspersed 

 with thehard matters of fact of a genuine hunt, such as our 

 host commanding his dog to " seek the dead" every time 

 a chicken dropped; our drivers helping themselves before 

 all others, and to more; the remark that our railroad man 

 made to the farmer when he saw a toothed hay-knife, that 

 he didn'tseehow he could have nicked it so badly in cutting 

 hay; but the most laughable thing of all — from our side 

 of the fence — was how we escaped alive from those hun- 

 gry cormorants. H. A. P. 



MORE RIFLE TALK. 



"OOSTON, Sept. 15.— Editor Forest and Stream: In 

 O the communication by Mr. Leopold I find this re- 

 mark, "The sharp twist kept the bullets point on." 

 Question, is it the sharp twist which keeps the bullets 

 point on? I have an old muzzleloading target rifle with 

 gain twist which certainly cannot be (and as nearly as I 

 am able to judge is not nearly so sharp a twist as modern 

 breechloaders, yet it does not make keyholes even at 

 500y ds. My experience is limited in the matter of wind- 

 age at long ranges, but so far as I am able to judge my 

 muzzleloader with 162-grain bullet, shooting over the 

 same ground at same time, will require less allowance 

 for wind than the ,45cal. target gun. The muzzleloader 

 uses a large charge of powder in proportion to the bullet, 

 much larger proportion than the breechloader; it sends 

 its bullet to the mark same as the breechloader. Would 

 not the breechloader do better with less lead and larger 

 proportion of powder to its bullet? 



The U. S. Government is now experimenting with a 

 view of using smaller caliber guns (.30 they are trying 

 now) and a larger proportion of powder to its bullets. 

 A writer claims .45-60-300 to be the best charge he knows 

 of. The tendency is to more powder in proportion to the 

 bullet and it seems to be a step in the right direction. 



Senex. 



Michigan Feathered Game.— Alma, Mich., Sept. 17. 

 — The weather has been so dry that the woodcock have 

 had to seek more congenial quarters, their usual feeding 

 grounds being dry and hard. Have seen but two in the 

 course of a month. Ruffed grouse fairly numerous, and 

 quail, although not numerous, have increased under pro- 

 tection by law. Last Friday, Sept. 13, while our men 

 were cutting and burning a patch of weeds and bushes 

 they flushed some quail, and after the fire had subsided 

 found a quail's nest with thirteen eggs in it, all pipped 

 and about to hatch, but the heat had been too intense, 

 and hence there will be one less bevy to keep for seed 

 this year. I mention this, as it seems an unusually late 

 incubation. — L. A. S. 



New Jersey.— Perth Amboy, Sept. 23.— Shot an Eng- 

 lish snipe, in excellent condition, on the Raritan marshes 

 last Monday, and four yelpers Thursday. Also saw sev- 

 eral sprigtail ducks. There was a great flight of bitterns 

 and reed birds over this locality on Wednesday night, 

 and on Friday morning thousands of flickers and red- 

 headed woodpeckers passed to the southwest, Hying 

 against a brisk westerly wind. Many were killed here- 

 abouts. Qesterday was moving day for several species 

 of hawks, of which there was a steady migration from 

 sunrise until late in the afternoon; wind northwest, brisk. 

 —J. L. K. 



Maryland.— Cecil County, Sept. 19.— The reed and rail 

 bird season epened Sept. 5 in Cecil county. Rail birds 

 are very scarce, 25 birds being high boat on the best tide. 

 Reed birds are more plentiful than for some years. The 

 rabbit hunters report cottontails enough to go round and 

 some over. Quail are on the increase in this county, six 

 and eight coveys being reported from one section where 

 there was not more than one covey three years ago. 

 Squirrels are numerous enough to give good sport. — Ed. 



Beayer, Pa. , Sept. 21. — Wednesday morning I took my 

 Bullard .22, and atter a little over two hours in the wood6 

 brought home a nice mess of gray squirrels. On my trip 

 I saw evidences of a good crop of pheasants (ruffed 

 grouse) and quail, and as for rabbits, "the country is 

 full of them."— G. A. Scroggs. 



