Jan, i6 s 1890.] 



FOREST AND STREAM, 



811 



walking-, even under the most favorable circumstances, 

 though" there are no hills to climb, tbe country being only 

 slightly rolling, but many of the stubble fields are large 

 ^nd separated from each other by fresb-sown wheat land. 

 I located at my brother's tbe first week. His farm is 

 about three miles from the town of Easton, 6. is not 

 much of a shot, but loves to poke around after the birds 

 and see them fly. He generally keeps a dog, but this 

 time I found hioi" without that important animal, so he 

 borrowed for the occasion a large pointer by the name of 

 Prince, a splendid field dog, but hunting too wild for 

 cover shooting. Accompanied by Prince we started out 

 the afternoon of my arrival to sample the shooting. We 

 found only two covejs, getting but four birds from both 

 of tbem. The next morning we were joined by a young 

 friend from town, "We found eight or ten coveys, and I 

 had eight or ten as nice shots as one could wish, but for 

 the life of me I could not stop a bird. Again and again 

 I sighted carefully, but the bird kept on, and the only 

 quail killed that morning was by my brother. 1 could 

 not account for this, as 1 had killed four out of five shots 

 the first afternoon. 



I did not try the birds again until the following Tues- 

 day, and then under circumstances which almost induced 

 me to pack my grip and start for New York, If any of 

 my readers have ever hunted quail with worthless dogs 

 where quail were scarce I feei reasonably sure of sym- 

 pathy. A friend, whom 1 shall designate as B., and my- 

 self, made the start from Eiston, where I had gone to 

 stay over Sunday, He had no dog, so we bad to borrow, 

 the owner of Prince having taken his dog for a few days' 

 hunting. There was nothing to do but skirmish around 

 for the necessary equipment of four-footed helpers. A 

 fine-looking Irish setter came into view, following Dr. T., 

 such a do? as would attract attention at a bench show. 



"Say, Doc," called out B., "whose dog is that?" 



"Don't know," says Doc, "but take him out and try 

 him." 



B. put a handkerchief around redely 's neck and took 

 him to the stable, both of us well pleased with our prize 

 and expecting great things of him in tbe field. We 

 secured two more dogs, one a red pup that a friend 

 desired me to break in and the other an old setter by the 

 name of Bruce. Strong in numbers, if uncertain as to 

 quality, we got off as soon as the team could be hitched 

 up. I will spare myself tbe pain of recalling in detail the 

 story of that afternoon's bunt The bench show dog was 

 gun* shy. the pup flushed all the birds that old Bruce 

 could find, and B. fell off a slippery log into the water. 

 The combined bag was one quail. Hot and weary we 

 wandeied back to my brothei's, where we had left our 

 team, to find that he bad gone to town and brought back 

 another dog for me to try. We took him out in the 

 orchard to ob erve his style. He hunted that piece of 

 ground twice befure we had. walked half way across it. 

 He was a hummer, and no mistake, and his name was 

 Cato, but I obseived a merry twinkle in my brother's eyes 

 ithat made me feel uneasy. 



The n ext moi nin g tb e horse wa s hit eh ed to tb e ca rria ge, 

 and with Bruce and Cato as companions, I started lor 

 Chapel, a cross-roads settlement where lived a friend of 

 my youth. The two red rangers I had sent back to town 

 with B. I would seek out Charlie P. and get his dog. 

 On the road to Chapel, spying a likely piece of stubble, I 

 thought to give Cato a trial. I had hardly finished mak- 

 ing the hor&e fast to the fence before Cato was into the 

 field and yelping: jes, actually giving tongue, after a 

 covey of quail that he had flushed. I groaned inwardly. 

 Was this to be my fate? I tied Cato to the fence near the 

 horse, hoping he might choke himself before I returned, 

 and with Bruce, followed the birds into the woods. I got 

 two of them, and returning to the carriage, continued my 

 journey to Chapel, 



I found Charlie running his sawmill down in the woods. 

 Seated upon a sawlog 1 unfolded my '"tale of woe." He 

 was pretty much the same Charlie of by-gone days, only 

 just a trifle more serious. He knockeei off work for the 

 day, and after a good dinner we i.-sued forth, with many 

 misgivings as to the conduct of Cato. Charlie had loaned 

 his dog to a friend. He would get him in the morning. 

 We found five coveys of birds, but that confounded dog 

 flushed them all before we could get near him. Once, 

 exasperated beyond endurance, I shot him when he was 

 off a safe distance. He yelped a little, but forgot the 

 lesson with the very next birds he found. I afterward 

 heard that Cato had been shot eight times in one after- 

 noon. It does-n't take long to lose all interest in gunning 

 when the dogs are worthless. You become so disgusted 

 that you hardly care to, shoot, even when the birds get 

 up from undt r your very feet. 



"Pete," says Chailie, it was my old nick-name; "if you 

 will come up in the morning I will get my dog and we'll 

 have some sport; but don't bring Cato." The next morn 

 ing found me on hand, and with old Bruce and Charlie'; 

 dog Frank, a white native setter, we had two days of 

 fair sport. The dogs worked beautifully, not flushing 

 half a dozen quail in the two days. This was something 

 like old times, and it was a sati -faction and pleasure to 

 see those two dogs stand and back each other. We never 

 had to hurry ourselves to reach the dogs when a point 

 was made. They pointed as steady as a frozen weather 

 vane. Frank, tbe younger dog, found nearly all the 

 coveys, but old Bruce would get in his work on the 

 singles. He seemed to have a knack of trotting up on a 

 single bird and dropping beside it with an easy familiar- 

 ity that charmed it. No bird could take exception at his 

 style of approach, and he was up to all their little tricks 

 Though quite old his nose was excellent, and his judg 

 ment the very best. 



I inquixeel of Charlie how went the world with Jim S., 

 a former companicn of our gunning excursions, and to 

 my sorrow heard that he was dead. I remember once 

 that while the three of us were gunning one day many 

 years ago we grew desperately hungry* The nearest 

 store was several miles away, and we were not acquainted 

 with a single farmer in the neighborhooel. Crossing 

 farm we intercepted the farmer as he was carrying 

 bucket of slops to his pigs. "Say, mister/' says Jim. 

 "are you going to waste that nice bucket of slops on 

 those hogs?" at the same time placing his hands on his 

 empty stomach and Bmacking his hps. But this delicate 

 and eloquent appeal had no effectupon the horny-banded 

 son of the soil, and we tramped three mihs before we ran 

 afoul of a country store and filled in on crackers and 

 cheese. 



After bidding Charlfe good-bye I located in Easton and 

 made several trips out through "the country. I was stay 



ing with Dr. S. , an old cbutn and one with whom I had 

 engaged m many hunts. 1 think his wife one of the most 

 amiable women on earth. Guns, cartridges, coats, boots 

 and gunning clothing were scattered all over that house, 

 besides several dogs constantly in the kitchen, yet she 

 never complained once, however often she found it 

 necessary to gather up our belongings and put them in 

 their proppr places. Doc was too busy to do much gun- 

 ning, but we did lots of talking over old times and the 

 dogs we had owned. One afternoon I enticed Mm from 

 his office and found that be could shoot as well as ever. 

 On another occasion we took the beagles out for a run. 

 He had four of them, and very good dogs they were. We 

 found more sport in watching the dogs run than in shoot- 

 ing the rabbits, and some of tbe cottontails made desper- 

 ate efforts to throw off their pursuers. One little fellow 

 came out of the woods and squatted hardly a dozen paces 

 from us while the dogs were circling in the woods after 

 the lost trail. Presently they started him, and when he 

 came out again one of the dogs was right behind him. 

 He maele a break for the branch across a plowed field. 

 Well, that dog was dead sure Mr. Rabbit was bis meat, 

 and as he wanted him all to himself he never opened his 

 mouth, but the way he dug across that field was a cau- 

 tion. However, the rabbit beat him io the branch, and 

 when the dogs ran him around again some one shot him. 

 A little further on we got in with another party of rabbit 

 hunters, but as the two packs of dogs were strangers to 

 each other they ran very p-orly together, and eight dogs 

 (the other party had four) are too many to do good work; 

 four will give much better satisfaction. 



B. and myself agreed to have another go at the quail. 

 He secured a young pointer named Pilot and I took 

 Prince. Old Bruce hael a sore foot and had to be left at 

 home, We got off between 8 and 9 o'clock, with a boy 

 in the wagon to drive while we hunted, and the grub 

 stowed away in a couple of baskets. Our first attempt 

 was a piece of new ground bordering a woods. A fine 

 covey got up ahead of Prince anel went to the woods 

 without giving us a shot, and were so wild that they 

 would not lie to the dogs when found again. We got 

 two of them. Went to the wagon and drove about half 

 a mile, starting in at a peach orchard. Instructed the 

 boy to wait for us a mile or two up the road while we 

 made the circle. Prince found again, Pilot backing in 

 fine style; but the birds flew before we got near enough 

 to shout, and we failed to start them again in the woods. 

 Hunted over some nice-looking ground on two farms 

 without striking a scent. Met a farmer who had a horse 

 sick with the colic. B. prescribed for the horse and in 

 return got permission to gun on his land, but found no 

 birds. It was now after 12 o'clock, and we were growing 

 tired and hungry. B. saiei the wagon was at least three 

 miles away, and that the boy had one of the most ungov- 

 ernable appetites in the county; that quite likely be 

 would eat both lunches before we reached him. This 

 arming. We climbed through several more wire 



ditch bank. Tbe doge work well and we succeed in bag- 

 ging nine of tbem, B. getting the majority of the birds. 



Back to the wagon and off again, this time for the 

 county poor house farm, where B. says we are apt to 

 find birds. A likely piece of stubv.le tempts us before we 

 reach the abode of the poor, and Prince draws up on a 

 fine covey, out of which we only secure two birds, mak- 

 ing a sad mess of it. The birds fly through a grove of 

 trees in front of us that shelter the ruins of White Marsh 

 church, a stone structure over two hundred years old, 

 and our dogs hunt over sunken graves, now overgrown 

 with briers that contain the dust of some of the first 

 settlers of Talbot county. The little village near by for 

 many years struggled along under tbe name Hole-in-the- 

 Wall. " It looked much as it did years ago, and changing 

 its name to Hamilton or Hambleton seems to have added 

 nothing to its prosperity. I remember stopping there one 

 day with my father, about tbe days of my first pair of 

 pants or red top boots, and the good lady at the store pre- 

 senting me with a white-handled knife full of tin blades. 



"Pete," says B., and I notice a sort of parched look 

 about his mouth and a huskiness to his voice that alarms 

 me, "there's a club at this place and I am a member of it; 

 would you like some beei?' We appeal to the president 

 of the club, B. assures him that his name is upon tbe roll 

 and we are admitted to the sanctum. But the name can- 

 not be found. "Must have been destroyed in the last fire," 

 says B. ' Shall I put her there again?" and down she goes 

 and mine also. Being now full-pledged (fledged) mem- 

 bers we partake of the hospitalities of tbe club and depart 

 much refreshed. 



Once more we are behind the dogs, as they hunt a 

 large stubble of tbe poor farm, but find no birds until it 

 grows too dark to shoot, so we climb into tbe wagon and 

 start for home, fairly satisfied with our bag of twenty 

 birds. 



I would like to tell of several more-hunts I had around 

 Easton, Kit I have already claimed too much of your 

 space. Next year I hope to repeat my visit, and I shall 

 most certainly take with me a dog of my own, broken 

 by myself. There are any number of dogs in and about 

 Easton, and not one of tbem properly broken, and only 

 about one in a dozen worth following into the field. It is 

 not the fault of the dogs; the masters are to blame for it. 

 The dogs are of a goorl hardy stock, capable of nice work 

 if intelligently handled when young. I care little for 

 blue blood. Give me a dog with a good disposition, stay- 

 ing qualities and intelligence, and the other fellow may 

 have the pedigree. A great many gunners pet their dogs 

 too much; it is not good lor the dogs, as I have found 

 to my loss. Old Man. 



fences; there seemed to be no other kind of fence in that 

 section. Down by a raspberry patch we found another 

 covey of birds, but away they went as wild as deer. It 

 began to look as if we should find nothing but wild birds 

 that day. One consolation, we were slowly approaching 

 the place where the boy and wagon should be. At last 

 we struck the road. Then Prince was missing. After 

 calling and whistling for about five minutes we went to 

 look for bim, B. found him with a covey of birds a few 

 feet from his nose, but misSed with both barrels: said be 

 couldn't shoot on an empty stomach. I marked a bird 

 that pitched on the limb of a large oak tree. My feet 

 grew lighter and the pangs of hunger ceased to gnaw at 

 my vitals. I got as near as I thought safe, and blazed 

 away; but off went the birds. We looked in the tree&for 

 more, and shot seven out of a clump of tall pines within 

 a circle of 20jds.; big, plump birds they were. We fin 

 ished by firing three charges into a pine knot that bore a 

 striking resemblance to a quail, but wasn't. Shooting 

 birds out of trees was something we had not bargained 

 for, and, to say the least, was not legitimate sport. But 

 all the birds so far had refused to lie for the dogs, and 

 to leave them roosting in those trees was going dead 

 against Providence; besides, we wanted them. 



This piece of luck cheered us up immensely anel was 

 an experience, I believe, that never before happened to 

 any two gunners in Talbot county, and will probably 

 never occur again. I have often seen one or two bircis 

 out of a covey take to tbe trees, but never the entire lot. 

 and then to sit there like pine burs, while we knocked 

 them out, the dogs looking em in amazement and won- 

 dering where tbe dead birds were coming from. 



Our good luck continued by sighting the boy and wagon 

 up the road by a gypsy camp, and finding that he bad 

 not disturbed the grub. We were soon in the wagon with a 

 sandwich in each hand, while one of the gypsies was trying 

 to trade horses with us. What a lazy contented lot they 

 were, the men sitting around in the sun, the dirty-faced 

 children playing in the road, two of the young girls drt ss- 

 ing their hair in front of a small glass banging irom the 

 bow of a tree, while the older women were talking to- 

 other or attending to the duties of the camp. A little 

 istance away were two colored damsels of the neighbor- 

 hood, timidly awaiting an opportunity to cross the palm 

 of the fortune-teller with silver and learn what fate had 

 in store for them. 



Scattered about on each side of the road, and a hun- 

 dred yards or so apart, are a dozen or more negro shan- 

 ties, collectively known as Ivjtown. Some of the lots 

 look to be excellent feeding ground for email andB. wants 

 to try them, but the boy has told us of a large covey he 

 saw crossing the road as he drove to meet us, and I insist 

 upon looking for them, although B. takes little stock in 

 the boy's yarn. We drive on half a mile to a country 

 store. I begin, to yearn for a glass of cider, real cider- 

 made from apples, such as 1 used to suck through a str ; iw 

 years ago not many miles from this very spot. But no, 

 we are just out, expect some next week, says the proprie- 

 tor; and not caring to wait and this being- a local option 

 county we take water. Leaving the boy and wagon at 

 the store we start to find that covey of birds. We hunt 

 down the edge of the woods and around a pine thicket 

 into an old sedge field without finding the birds. I am 

 fast losing confidence in that boy's story, and climb on 

 top of the rail fence to get back into the woods. Snap 

 goes the top rail and up get a large covey of quail. Hang- 

 ing by one leg I take a snap shot, but on they all go. 

 One bird pitches in the woods and I walk him up anel 

 score a kill. B. works them down out in the sedge field. 

 We drive them from tbe field into the woods and along a 



THE SNOWY OWL. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Mr. L. S. Foster's inquiries concerning the snowy owl 

 (Nyctea nyctea) come very opportunely. The southern 

 flight of these birds during the past two weeks has been 

 remarkable, only exceeded by the great migration of 

 '76-77. At present the snowy owl is to be found in great 

 numbers between the Platte and Loup livers in Buffalo 

 and Dawson counties, Nebraska. A Kearney taxielermiht 

 has received nine specimens within tbe past week. These 

 will average 24in. m length, with 17m. wings. There 

 have been all shades, from the heavily mottled female to 

 the immaculate male, two specimens being without spot 

 or bar. A marked peculiarity was their emaciated con- 

 dition, the entire digestive apparatus being in some cases 

 empty. One specimen that 1 examined contained shreds 

 of gopher hair. Tbe great body of owls arrived about 

 eight days before the recent cold wave, and their advent 

 is a sure precursor of low temperatiu-e. Shoshone. 



Keakjjey, Neb,, Jan. 1. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



A correspondent in your paper of Dec. 26 makes in- 

 quiries about the snowy owl, to some of which I can re- 

 pjy. On the prairies around Chicago, in the winter 

 months of 1840 to 1850 this owl was common; many were 

 shot, and the writer stuffed some specimens, which were 

 in good condition. This owl was supposed to feed on 

 grouse and other game, which in those days was abund- 

 ant in that region. The plumage generally was white, 

 with minute black spots, though some were pure white, 

 supposed to be the older specimens, The writer had a 

 fine specimen in captivity one winter, it had been slightly 

 wounded, and was kept in a garret, where it soon recov- 

 er eel. It was fed with raw beef, and with birds, such as 

 grouse and quail, and became rather tame. A large liv- 

 ing red-tailed hawk was turned loose into the garret, and 

 on the first night it was killed and partly eaten by the 

 owl. This owl is less nocturnal in its habits than most 

 owls, being often seen flying about in broad daylight. 

 After keeping tbe bird for two months or so, it was liber- 

 ated from ihe housetop, and made a beehne for the prai- 

 ries. This owl is probably rare in those parts now, on 

 account of tbe disappearance of the bhels on which it 

 subsisted. S. C. Clarke. 



Marietta, Ga. 



Notes From Iowa— Coral ville, la., Jan, 1.— Last fall 

 there was a family of meadow larks about here which 

 contained several albinos. One of them a younjr man 

 shot and presented to the State University Museum at 



Iowa City Not long since the pastor of the M. E. Church 



at Tiffin, I*., informed me thai the flying squirrels bad 

 literally taken possession of tbe church attic, and the 

 noise they made scampering about and rolling nuts 

 around was strongly suggestive of spirits. . . .A jack rab- 

 hit weighing 81bs. was killed not far from this place last 

 November. It is said that nothing of the kind was ever 

 seen here bef ore.— V. S. W . 



California Academy of Sciences — The following 

 officers were re-elected Jan. 6: President, H. W. H«rk- 

 ness; First Vice-President, H. H. Behr; Second Vice- 

 President, George Hewston; Corresponding Secretary, 

 Frederick Gutzuow; Recording Secretary, J. R. Scup- 

 ham; Treasurer, I. E. Thayer; Librarian, Carlos Trover; 

 Director of Museum, J. G. Cooper. Trustees: Charles F. 

 Crocker, D. E. Hayes, S. W. Holladay, Geo. C, Perkins, 

 E. J. Molera, Irving M. Scott, John Taylor. 



