Jan. 2, 1890.1 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



469 



I was sure to get the bird, although I have hit them hard 

 and seen them liit very hard in the body and fly a long 

 way before they dropped. One small 'shot in the bill 

 stops them immediately. 



In conclusion, let me suggest that any one wishing to 

 study the woodcock, wants first an A 'No. 1 woodcock 

 dog, then let him begin early in the spring and go every 

 day, and lie will soon learn that, they are one of the most 

 peculiar of our birds. T. M. Alprtch. 



"Eyes and No Eyes."— Charlestown, N. H., Dec. 25.— 

 Editor Forest and Stream: Your delightful correspond- 

 ent. Miss Hardy, is in error in crediting "Eyes and No 

 Eyes" to the author of Sandford and Merton. It will be 

 found in "Evenings at Home," a little book written by 

 Mrs. Barbauld and her brother, Dr. Aiken, and published 

 in this country some sixty years ago. It was one of the 

 delights of my childhood, and I think did much to give 

 me a taste for natural history. The author of Sandford 

 and Merton never wrote anything half so good. I remem- 

 ber that well, too, and used to get very toed of the pros- 

 ings of Mr. Barlow and the "goody-goodiness" of Harry. 

 I always thought that, in spite of his escapades, Tommy 

 Merton would prove much the more useful member of 

 society, if he did not get drowned or shot. I forget now 

 what happened to him. Somebody, I think Burnand of 

 Punch, wrote a very good burlesque on the story a few 

 years since.— Von W. 



" FOREST AND STREAM" GUN TESTS. 



HPHE following guns have been tested at the FOREST AND 

 I JL Stream Range, aud reported upon in the issues named. 

 Copies of any date will be sent on receipt of price, ten cents: 

 Colt 12, July 25. Parker 10, hammer. June 6. 



Colt 10 and 12, Oct. 24. Parker 12, hammerless, June 'i. 



Folsom 10 and 12, Sept. 26. Remington 10, May 30. 

 Francotte 12, Dec. 12. Remington 12, Dec. 5. 



Grjlenkr 12, Aug. 1. SCOTT 10, Sept. 5. 



(j'rjoener 10, Sept. 12, Sept. 10. L. C. Smith 12, Oct. 10. 

 Hollis 10, Nov. 7- Winchester 10 and 12, Oct. 3. 



TRAMPS WITH A POCKET RIFLE. 



IN the comfortable glow from the student lamp the 

 hawk that guards the entrance to my "den"' appears 

 almost alive. The light is not strong enough to show up 

 the deception of glass eyes and varnished bill and legs. 

 Birds reign in undisputed sway in my '"bunk," and at 

 times, like this evening, when I am in a retrospective 

 mood, as my eyes wander from one feathered form to 

 another, there returns a glimpse of the places and cir- 

 cumstances under which each bird was procured, con- 

 jured up by memory's marvellous power. In one corner 

 is the gun rack, presided over by the omen of misfortune 

 — a specimen of a loi.g-eared owL One little gun. with 

 its short barrel browned by the use it has seen, is nearly 

 hidden by the shadow of its big brothers. Size does not 

 always indicate the amount of pleasure to be extracted 

 from a gun; and that little brown tube has given me 

 more enjoyment, and accompanied me oftener on my 

 tramps, than the guns standing alongside. 



AN OCTOBER DAY. 

 "There is a beautiful spirit breathing now, 

 Its mellow richness o'er the clustered trees: 

 And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, 

 Pouring new glory on the autumn woods." 



— Longfettoxc. 



Aye, truly some unseen hand has passed over these 

 trees. The autumn's breath has left its impress upon the 

 glowing maples; and down in the valley, across the wav- 

 ing field of wheat, the vivid yellow of the hickories con- 

 trasts strongly with the dark background of forest interior. 

 How glorious are the tranquil, peaceful days of October; 

 how few, how very few of them are we permitted to 

 eDjoy. Over this mass of innumerable shades of color 

 hung the soft, purple haze of light, stretching far away 

 till blended into the blue distance. The sky of fathom- 

 less cerulean, the lazily-drifting clouds— but why attempt 

 to describe these pictures to those familiar with them, 

 and who can recall similar scenes with the aid of their 

 own imaginations more vividly than pen of mine can 

 ever hope to present ? It is only when I essay a descrip- 

 tion of nature's moods that I realize fully the futility of 

 conveying any of the thousand inexpressible, vague 

 thoughts that ' even the recollection of such days revive 

 within memory's wondrous pale. 



"Walking slowly along one of those blind trails, absorbed 

 in contemplation of the beautiful combinations of color, 

 I fell into a reverie of other days, and had actually for- 

 gotten that I carried my old companion in my hand. 

 Stepping from the path into a small opening recalled my 

 wandering senses. Sweeping the treetops with the swift 

 gaze of an observer of nature, I caught sight, perched 

 upon the top of a dead tree, whose gaunt, limbless trunk 

 extended above its more fortunate brethren, of a motion- 

 less, erect form. Could I get within fair range of the 

 wily robber? Making a short detour to the right, so that 

 several large trees intervened, I crept cautiously from one 

 trunk to another, and finally slid up behind one not oOft. 

 from the base of his unsuspicious hawkship's perch. With- 

 out losing any more time than necessary to regain com- 

 plete composure (it takes steady nerves to hold these light 

 rifles true), 1 laid the little tube carefully alongside the 

 bark, exposed just enough of my face to run my eye 

 throtigh the peep sight, and as the black bead showed full 

 I pressed the delicate trigger. A crack, a slight impatient 

 recoil was the answer, and a full plumaged male red- 

 shouldered hawk was numbered among my trophies. 

 Stanching the blood with absorbent cotton, I wrap him 

 Tip in a cornucopia of brown paper and stow him away 

 carefully in the satchel. 



There still remain scattered individuals of the enor- 

 mous flocks of wild pigeons that years ago astonished 

 the farmers with their prodigious multitudes. They 

 have dispersed now over the country, and feed in pairs 

 or shy flocks of four or five. Seven of them rose from a 

 field of buckwheat, circled around to the left, corning 

 back nearly over my head. Two lit in an oak on the 

 other side of the field. The same old tactics were brought 

 into play and resulted even more successfully than when 

 used against the previous victim. This time I man- 

 euvered until both the upright passengers were in line. 

 A shot, and "speak it low," a clean miss. Seeing no 



enemy the stupids remain motionless, but when the 

 smoke drifts off in little curls again both birds go to 

 keep the hawk company. 



Wandering aimlessly onward I crossed a clear space 

 covered witft long, fine bladed grass that still retains its 

 fresh, green hue. Throwing myself upon this inviting 

 bed, I watch the few belated swallows as they hurry 

 swiftly along the blue railing of the heavens. How 

 slowly that Bvten sweeps the circumference of his long 

 circles, without perceptible motion of those broad wings. 

 Shall I waste a couple of shots? Why not? There is cer- 

 tainly no danger to him if no lead's flying, and some 

 strange fatality may guide a bullet straight, if there is, 

 so here goes. Beyond the last shot making him flutter 

 his wings a trifle, the shots produced no effect. 



On the borders of the woods in some spots the Wilson 

 thrushes are very numerous, flitting along in front like 

 pigmy gray ghosts. They are silent, as are also the 

 wood thrushes and robins that are feeding upon the rem- 

 nants of the wild cherries. Unconsciously 1 turn in the 

 direction of a plaintive, cloe-e that comes faintly to my 

 ears. There he is, perched upon the top of an old fence 

 rail uttering at frequent intervals the sweet call across 

 the field of stacked corn. Approaching as near as I 

 dared I lay still and watched the self-satisfied little fel- 

 low. Does he realize how soon these mellow days will 

 fade away? Surely there is some instinct that warns him 

 that these glorious days are too beautiful to endure for 

 long, and influences the sad inflection of his simple notes, 

 blending so perfectly with surrounding nature. I could 

 not raise my little "shooting-iron" on that hazel body, if 

 my life depended upon it. Ingratitude is the blackest of 

 all sins, and were I capable of sacrificing the author of 

 peaceful emotions I should consider myself little less than 

 ungrateful. 



May be I am unjustly prejudiced against the sable 

 marauder, but be that as it may. I certainly entertain an 

 unconcmerable dislike of the crow; and he comes in for 

 the full benefit of my vengeance whenever opportunity 

 offers. Some distance ahead about a dozen were making 

 things lively around a single pine tree with a very heavy 

 growth of branches. Each individual of this clamorous 

 group was exerting to its fullest extent the harsh voice 

 nature has bestowed upon them. I suspected instantly 

 that the ohject of these kind attentions was some member 

 of the owl fraternity. So intently were the black ruffians 

 engaged in blackguarding the indifferent representation 

 of wisdom, that they did not notice another enemy until 

 I had cut one of their number out. Big- eyes appeared 

 considerably relieved when his tormentors departed, and 

 I also relieved him of his grasp on the perch. 



Not a bad day's sport's, but if a bird was expected for 

 every cartridge' fired it would be the reverse. It is one 

 of the pleasantest features of a .22 rifle that you may 

 blaze away at anything, alive or inanimate, without feel- 

 ing you ought to have something to show for each shot, 

 as is the case with a shotgun or heavy rifle. 



The forest aisles are growing dimmer, the perfect still- 

 ness of the dropping autumn eve broods over all. It is 

 seldom such absolute quiet reigns above wood and held 

 as when the slanting rays of sunlight from out the golden 

 west shoot athwart the tree-tops at the close of an Octo- 

 ber day. Once more the geutle monotone of the thou- 

 sand soft-blending voices of nature arose from the woods 

 and fields. A flock of bluejays disturb the tranquillity 

 for a few moments; and far from the distance comes the 

 plaintive call of a plover hurrying toward the shore. 



Coming out from a narrow belt of pine woods I found 

 myself on the edge of the line of hills which extend 

 through Long Island. The view was so enchanting that 

 for a few moments it held me fairly enthralled, so that I 

 did not even attempt to shoot at a whisk of a white cot- 

 tontail diving into the field of buckwheat. 



Within the last hour clouds had been gradually in- 

 creasing, and now the main mass lay along the western 

 horizon in a dark, low breadth of steely gray. The sun 

 just touched the top of this stratum, appearing as if it 

 shone above the rim of a great indigo sea. It sunk 

 slowdy down, but in what a brilliant glow of colors! 

 Almost to the zenith the bits of cumuli were tinted a 

 soft crimson, and closer to the light played a grand com- 

 bination of orange and gold. I lay and watched the 

 picture until the dusk comhienoed to creep along, blot- 

 ting with its soft shadows the detail of field and wood. 

 By one of the hedges there rose into the air the tall, leaf- 

 less branches of a dead sassafras, and perched upon one 

 of its loftiest limbs, outlined against the clear light, was 

 a chewink. With sweet, unvarying rhythm his clear 

 notes fall upon the surrou nding fields, so perfectly in ac- 

 cord with end of the day and fading nature that he 

 seems to voice the spirit breathing above the woodlands. 



j had two miles still to go before I get to the station, 

 and while passing through a strip of trees I found myself 

 among a perfect army of robins. They were everywhere, 

 and except a short note when one flew, were silenL 

 There was a feeling of uneasiness among them, and they 

 were careful not to allow me to approach too close. 

 This is but one small detachment of the vast army mov- 

 ing southward, but a collecting of individuals. This air 

 of eagerness and uncertainty was plainly apparent, for 

 they waited but the coming night to wing their way 

 further along. 



Before I arrived at the depot it was dark, and some- 

 times, from the space above, I would catch the faint 

 whistle of those feathered wayfarers pursuing their 

 journey toward sunshine and unending summer, guided 

 by an unseen power, through the darkness and gloom of 

 the October night. 



A short whirl, wjjh glimpses of ruddy lights from farm 

 houses, and I am again amid the hurry of the great mass 

 of beings who are traveling homeward. The brilliant 

 sparkle of the electric lamps, the yellow glow from the 

 long rows of shop windows, the crowded cars and end- 

 less stream of humanity, seem almost something novel 

 after the quiet of the country. I am going down town 

 and they are bound the other way — toward home — but I 

 am going home, too. Bex B. 



Orange County, New York.— Middletown, Dec. 24. 

 — The Board of Supervisors of Orange county has passed 

 an act prohibiting entirely the killing of any "quail within 

 the county for a term of three years after its passage. 

 The same act restricts the open season for hunting hares, 

 rabbits, ruffed grouse or partridge, and woodcock to the 

 months of October and November in each year. Another 

 act was passed providing for the payment of $1 bounty 

 from the County Treasury for any fbx killed, 



FLOATING FOR DUCKS ON THE FRENCH 

 BROAD. 



THE people of western North Carolina have a method 

 of shooting ducks that is, I think, practiced nowhere 

 else. As it is usually very successful there, probably 

 only the want of the necessary geographical conditions 

 prevents its more general employment. Numbers of 

 ducks coming northward in the spring turn from the 

 Ohio into the Tennessee, and so find their way into thp 

 French Broad. Soon seeing that continuing to follow 

 the river is merely returning southward, yet unwilling 

 at first to desert the water, they collect in great quantities 

 in the neighborhood of AsheVille before taking flight. 

 Then is the gunner's chance. Seated in the bow of a 

 boat, with a pilot in the stern, he drifts down the cur- 

 rent, and is hardly ever out of sight of a duck while he 

 keeps on the river. 



I took a trip of this kind in the spring of '88. Ducks 

 had been reported "thick as peas" for two weeks, when 

 in a four-mule wagon, with three punts, as many coun- 

 try boys, my two companions Ed and Cliff, and of course 

 a driver, J started from Asheville for the Long Shoal«. 

 After eight miles of shaking and bumping we arrived at 

 Glenn's Ford, at the head of the shoals, and finding all 

 our bones still in order proceeded to launch the boats and 

 embark. We weighed anchor at 9:45 A. M. and formed 

 in iine of battle, Ed taking the left, Cliff the center and 

 I the right. As the average width of the river is less 

 than 100yds., no clucks in 50yds. of the water could pass 

 without coming in good range. Hardly had we gone by 

 the first bend when a bunch of bluewing teal shot out 

 from the mouth of a small creek directly in front of me. 

 Bot h barrels of my Davis rang out, and the teal — minus 

 three — turned sharply to the left, flew right between Cliff 

 and Ed, who dropped five with their four barrels, and 

 sped away up stream. We had just collected our ducks, 

 several of which had to be shot down, wmen like a bullet 

 the flock flew past us again and settled in the water some 

 two hundred yards below. Two barrels sent after them 

 had failed to stop a single one. 



We were now at the head of a shoal or rapid, from the 

 lower end of which extended, a long stretch of smooth 

 water. As we shot down the shoal what was our excite- 

 ment at beholding not merely our little bunch, but a vast 

 flock of ducks in the smooth water below. Mallards, 

 teal, black ducks and redheads — they were all there; but 

 in another moment they weren't there, f or -with the noise 

 of a freight train they had rushed away down stream. 

 Loud were our lamentations as we glided through the 

 deserted water and looked ruefully around and back at 

 the place where they had been; but startled by the cry of 

 "Yon' dey come" from one of our pilots, we looked 

 around, to see the whole lot returning about twenty-five 

 yards above the water. Now they were over us, and we 

 cut loose." Down came two mallards in answer to my 

 shots, one so close to the boat that be was dispatched 

 with the paddle, the other dead in the water some ten 

 yards above. Cliff had two teal and a redhead, and Ed. 

 another mallard. As we paddled down the stream, sud- 

 denly a succession of reports far astern told that we were 

 not the only hunters on the river, and looking eagerly 

 back we saw the flock coming toward us again, but away 

 up out of range. 



To my surprise Cliff, as they passed, put up his gun and 

 fired both barrels, with the astounding result of bring- 

 ing down a fine mallard drake. But instead of glory- 

 ing in his success, he looked sorrowfully after the disap- 

 pearing flock, and berated himself for missing with his 

 second barrel! How he had killed with his first was 

 more than I could understand, for the distance must 

 have been upward of 80yds.; but he explained that he 

 had used thread-wound cartridges which would kill even 

 at ninety. Ed and I thereupon registered a vow never 

 to go ducking without thread -wound cartridges again. 



Half a dozen mallards flew out as we passed a creek 

 on the left and curved down stream. Ed's first barrel 

 brought one down, but his second had only the effect to 

 make the rest turn and fly right over my head. I scored 

 a clean miss with the first barrel, and thought I had suc- 

 ceeded no better with the second, when one of the ducks 

 began to lag, and then, to my joy, dropped. A minute's 

 swift paddling and we found him, floating on his back, 

 with his feet gently kicking the air. Soon after I had 

 regained my place in the line three redheads came to- 

 ward us, but before coming in range they swung off to 

 my right, over a cornfield, and then turned again toward 

 the river. As they came opposite, my well-choked left 

 barrel laid one low, but what was my grief to find no 

 place where I could land. What would I not have given 

 for a good retriever, small enough to lift to the top of 

 the steep clay bank which extended on either side as far 

 as I could see. 



As we rounded the next bend a large flock appeared 

 about 150yds. below. They rose, however, before we 

 were in range, and flying about 100yds. further down, 

 turned into the mouth of a large creek on the left. As 

 they had evidently alighted at some distance from the 

 river Ed and I landed on either side of the creek, leaving 

 cliff stationed at the mouth. We came in sight of the 

 ducks when we were about 150yds. from the river. They 

 were in a small pond, on both sides of which grew thick 

 bushes, tall enough to hide us. After creeping back out 

 of sight I ran to a point opposite the pond, and quietly 

 made my way through the bushes till I could see the 

 game. Then, lying flat and holding my gun ready, I 

 awaited the signal for action. Soon Bob White sounded 

 his call from the opposite bank. I answered the call, 

 and covering a pan of mallards who had swam into line 

 with me, pulled trigger, then springing up, with the 

 second barrel stopped a black duck on his way to the 

 French Broad. 



Though I had been too excited to hear Ed's shots, they 

 had certainly been fired, as two black ducks and a green- 

 wing teal testified. And two reports from the river told 

 us that Cliff was not asleep, so gathering up our spoils 

 (with the aid of cartridges) we returned to him. He 

 showed us a nice brace of teal and reported that the rest 

 had flown up stream. We left them for the men behind 

 us and kept on down. Now we found the ducks more 

 scattered. Instead of being in flocks they were spread 

 in twos and threes over the whole course of the river. 

 So numerous, were they, too, that till we reached the 

 mouth of the Swannanoa, two miles above Ashevilie, 

 our barrels were kept quite warm. At this point we 

 landed about noon, with twenty-three, nineteen and 

 twenty-six ducks respectively. Setter, 



