290 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May 1, 1890. 



CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 



C CHICAGO, 111., April 22.— That erratic wayfarer, the 

 / jack snipe, has seemed of late unable to decide 

 whether he belongs in this latitude or not. All sorts of 

 news has come in about the snipe shooting, but about the 

 only fact to be deduced from it all is, that it is a risky ex- 

 periment to go snipe shooting yet awhile. It is generally 

 supposed that the flight is not up this far yet, and this 

 idea is supported by the game dealers, who report most 

 of their snipe as coming from Iowa or lower Illiuois. 

 Springfield was thought to be at the top of the flight last 

 week, and a good many birds were coming in from Ford 

 county. No regular bags have been reported from the 

 grounds north of here, although H. A. Foss, just back 

 from Iowa, had 98 snipe with him, and reported good 

 shooting in that State. Three weeks ago the shooting 

 was much better, and now that we have had some warm 

 days and nights, enough to bring in the snipe if they 

 were coming, apparently, the question arises whether the 

 pesky things have not all gone on by, and left us in the 

 lurch, despite the high water and the abundant feed. 

 One or two marsh men of the Kankakee country think 

 the birds are gone. The Cumberland shooters do not 

 think so, and argue that if the birds were up yet, they 

 would certainly be heard fro'm on their prime snipe 

 grounds. Somebody came up yesterday and told Billy 

 Mussey that John Watson and somebody else had bagged 

 about 125 snipe at Mak-saw-ba last Monday, and Billy at 

 once started in that direction. He probabiy won't get 

 125, for the birds may leave. Mr. Fred C. Donald, Gen- 

 eral Passenger Agent of the Chicago & Atlantic Railway, 

 with Mr. C. Burton, of the Kankakee line, Charlie Wil- 

 lard and a second railroad man, went down to North 

 Judson, Ind.. last Friday, in the official car Fredonia. 

 "That's the only way to go hunting," says Charlie Burton. 

 The snipe did not fly around the car very much, it seems, 

 the party only bagging five birds; but Charlie says they 

 had a mighty good cook — which the same was Scott, the 

 colored boy who carried the coon on the Fredonia's quail 

 trip last fall. 



The state of the snipe question being in such a highly 

 fluctuating and non-conclusive condition, it seemed 

 necessary to pursue some original investigation in the 

 matter, and therefore Mr. Alex. T. Loyd and I went 

 down to Shelby, Ind., for a two days' effort last week. 

 Shelby is about three-quarters of a mile from Water 

 Valley, the little tank station on the Kankakee River. 

 The hotel is the only building in Shelby, except the barn, 

 but Shelby is a much larger and more enterprising city 

 than Water Valley. We stopped at the hotel. 



This Kankakee country, of which so much mention is 

 made, is really a remarkable strip of country, and rarely 

 was there ever a better for wildfowl than that lying 

 along scores and scores of miles of its course. The Kan- 

 kakee is a stream across which you can throw a stone 

 sometimes, but over which at others you could not shoot 

 a rifle ball. Never was such a labyrinth of marsh, 

 lagoon, bayou, cut-off and overflowed prairies as it some- 

 times sets forth, and very often, were it not for the fringe 

 of low timber ana thick woodcock cover along the banks, 

 it would be impossible to say what was the Kankakee 

 and what was just plain water. This spring the over- 

 flow has been exceptionally great. In any direction we 

 could look water was visible on bottom lands, marsh and 

 field, and the panorama of the great horseshoe bend was 

 such as well deserved its name of the "Water Valley." 



Shelby is a great railroad center. Two roads cross 

 there, the Monroe, on which we went down, and the 

 "Three-I's" road, which runs to Momence and other 

 places. After consultation with the landlord of Shelby 

 we concluded to go east, along the "Three-I's" track, and 

 try the wet pastures lying near by. We passed over 

 miles of excellent snipe ground, but though we saw num- 

 bers of ducks we did not start a snipe. The law was out 

 on ducks, so we couldn't shoot at anything, and it looked 

 like a slim day. We went down to the house of "Sandy," 

 a well-known pusher, and he told us to either cross the 

 "Three-I's" bridge and turn to the right among the hum- 

 mock bog, or to go on across the Monon bridge and try 

 the similar ground west of Thayer (Thayer is another 

 city a mile further south. There are two houses at 

 Thayer). We chose the former course, and found a 

 splendid ground, full of black mud bogs of a quality to 

 excite the admiration of any right-minded jacksnipe. 

 But though we walked and waded and soliloquized, we 

 saw only five snipe, and we took four of them back 

 with us. We spent most of the day trying the little 10- 

 gauge gun which Mr. Loyd was carrying, he having for 

 once torn himself away from his lilb. Greener. This 

 little gun is the property of Mr. Loyd's friend and hunt- 

 ing companion, Mr. Reuben Donnelly, the young man 

 who makes the Chicago city directory every year. He 

 stays home and works, and Aleck borrows his gun. I 

 should not be surprised if he should steal it, for it proved 

 itself a really remarkable little weapon. I am free to 

 confess that it would kill further and cleaner than my 

 12-gauge, although it shot rather too close for my notion. 

 Mr. Loyd killed a number of mudhens which were out of 

 range of my gun, and knocked down even so small a 

 bird as a yellowhammer at seventy-five long paces. I 

 see no use for a heavier gun, even for ducks, for this one 

 would kill a duck as far as any 12 gauge I ever happened 

 to handle, and .the load used* made no recoil, although 

 the gun weighs less than Tibs. Mr. Loyd had just bought 

 a lot of old wood powder shells at a closing-out sale, and 

 they proved better than he had expected. The load was 

 8|drs. powder (the old C brand) and an ounce of No. ? 

 shot. Mr. Loyd knows all about those things, and he 

 said that was not too much of the old powder, though 

 3drs. was plenty of the new powder. There being no 

 snipe we sat down on a bank and began some investiga- 

 tions of a practical sort upon our ammunition. 



"You see this powder," said Mr. Loyd, as he cut open 

 one of his shells, "It is hard and tightly compressed, 

 doubtless loaded with the old 751bs. pressure rule. That's 

 all right for the old wood powder, but all wrong for the 

 new brands. For the new powder you want to just seat 

 the wads fairly, not crowding the powder; otherwise you 

 are liable to make it detonate, and if your shells don't 

 blow your head off they are apt to be irregular at least. 

 The use of black pewder in priming wood powder or 

 Schultze is dangerous and should only be done very 

 carefully. I never prime a nitro powder. Mix a dram 

 of black powder with two or three of Schultze, and you 

 will be almost certain to detonate the load and practically 

 sure to burst your gun. Look here." 



He cut open one of the old shells and poured the caked 



powder out on the grass, then touching a match to it, 

 the powder flared up, not violently, but steadily. We 

 then mixed the contents of a black powder shell and one 

 of 12 bore trap, which had been loaded loosely and 

 properly, and touched off the mixed compound. The 

 result was an open air explosion which made us both 

 jump to get out of the way. That charge, if confined, 

 would have ribboned my gun barrel. These little facts 

 may be useful to somebody who is not thoroughly familiar 

 with the nitro powders. 



We continued our investigations by picking out a black 

 powder shell from among my lot, which embraced a 

 wide assortment. I might as well say that I stole this 

 lot of shells out of the Forest and Stream gun test 

 room, where they had accumulated during the course of 

 the trials and were in danger of being fired out other- 

 wise. This job lot of the experts' ammunition was a 

 curiosity (Aleck said it was a miscellaneous lot), and 

 showed well enough the different ideas of different gun 

 men, as well as the carelessness of certain experts who 

 would be disappointed if their guns did not make a good 

 showing. This black powder shell was an instance of 

 the latter. This shell was taken from a box sent down 

 with an expensive gun by a large gun firm who wished 

 the weapon tested. We opened the case and found what 

 was probably 3^drs. of powder (a 12ga. shell), with two 

 little black-edged wads on the powder and lioz. of shot 

 above that. The fault of the shell lay in the wadding. 



"I can take the same gun and get 10 per cent, more 

 pattern with the right kind of wadding on the powder," 

 said Mr. Loyd. "He ought to have at least three wads 

 of that sort on the powder and they ought to be a size 

 larger than the shell. That fellow couldn't load shells 

 any more than Thompson's colt." 



I never heard that Mi-. Thompson's young horse ever 

 attempted to load shells, but I give Mr. Loyd's remarks 

 verbatim. Aleck knows a good deal about guns and am- 

 munition, anyway, and the younger men may well note 

 what he says, in private, I never agree with him on 

 any such points for fear he'll get too proud. 



But the snipe hunt languishes. The next morning, in 

 company with five young men who had also come down 

 for a snipe shoot, we got upon a hay wagon and went 

 north about four miles, into that portion of the marsh 

 which lies about the well-known Fuller Island. We 

 drove across the long earthen causeway which threads the 

 marsh at this point, and descended from our carriage at 

 a point which looked very promising. Aleck and I winked 

 at each other and chose the left hand side, down wind. 

 Behold the wiseness of our wisdom ! We had not gone a 

 quarter of a mile before we heard the novices begin a 

 terrible cannonade, which continued nearly all the morn- 

 ing. For ourselves, we saw only five or six snipe and 

 only got one of them, the birds being so very wild. We 

 started four prairie chickens, right on the wet marsh, and 

 were scared nearly to death by a mallard hen that flew 

 out of a fence row almost under our feet. Parting the 

 grass, we found a beautiful feather-lined nest, with eleven 

 big eggs in it. That shows that April 15 is plenty late 

 for the closing of the duck season. By-and-by we saw the 

 old bird come back to her nest. May the fates prosper 

 her! 



We now waded across the wide marsh to Fuller Island, 

 and Mr. Loyd pointed out in the distance the spot where 

 he wished to inaugurate and locate a little club of 25 

 members, chosen from the Grand Calumet Heights Club. 

 This will probably be done, and a rough camp and boat 

 house put up. The part of the marsh in question is ex- 

 cellent, but it is half a day's push from Water Valley, 

 and there is no nearer place to keep a boat. If this little 

 club goes in (near "Topping's"), its members will be right 

 in the center of the best duck and snipe ground in that 

 region. 



Fuller Island itself is a delightful camping spot. It is 

 two or three miles long, they say, though it is narrow. A 

 heavy growth of timber and underbrush covers it. It is 

 fairly alive with rabbits and there are also a good many 

 ruffed grouse. Mr. Loyd's dog, Grouse, had a great deal 

 of fun with the rabbits, or else they had with him. 



Still we found no snipe and once more we fell to shoot- 

 ing mudhens with the 16-gauge, keeping Grouse, who is a 

 magnificent retriever, busy bringing out the birds that 

 we shot from the causeway. At 1 o'clock we found the 

 other party at the wagon. They had 6 or 8 jacks and a 

 lot of little sand snipe, or "prairie plover." They said 

 they had seen at least 200 jacksnipe and could take us 

 among them. 



After lunch we started out for this spot in two or three 

 little squads. Mr. Loyd stuck to the marsh and finally 

 got across again to Fuller Island. He found no shooting. 

 The snipe had left. Believing the wet niarsh still too 

 cold, I followed up a little trickle of water that came 

 down from the fields and soon found myself alone, on 

 about a half mile of black and boggy ground, fuli of 

 little spring-holes. The snipe were in this corner, a whole 

 lot of them, and if Mr. Loyd had been with me, we 

 should have had good sport. Thanks to the mudhen 

 business, I only had about 25 or 30 shells left and before 

 long I ran out, even of No. 7's. Once I had four snipe 

 down before I had picked up any of them and in this way 

 I lost two of my dead birds, as well as four other later on. 

 The longbills were wild, but they kept jumping all around 

 me and the shells didn't last long. I made runs of 4, 3 

 and 7 straight, and threw my last empty shell after the 

 second bird I missed out of a double. I should state that 

 I also missed the first one. In all I killed 17 snipe here. 

 A little later on Mr. Loyd picked up five across the river, 

 on the ground earlier pointed out by Sandy, the pusher. 

 We gathered up about 25 birds in ail and walked about 

 700 miles. 



That is a fair sample of the snipe shooting here just 

 now. You walk and walk and don't find them, then 

 you blunder on a big bunch of them in some unexpected 

 corner. The character of these big companies led us to 

 think that the birds were finally beginning to come in 

 with the warm weather, and we thought that during the 

 week the flight would be good— unless, except and per- 

 haps. 



This snipe hunt took place fifty-three miles south of 

 Chicago. We might have had as good or better luck 

 had we gone half that distance, to Lake Station, on the 

 Little Calumet. All the country, from Little Calumet 

 down, seems overflowed, and we noticed that the ground 

 near the old Florence Benner shooting box seemed in 

 great condition for snipe. These flats were until very 

 lately much frequented by woodcock. It used to be a 

 regular tiling to kill a woodcock or two in Florence Ben- 



ner's potato patch, and one afternoon some few years ago 

 one gun killed fifty-six woodcock on this very flat, within 

 what is now part of the city of Chicago. One of the best 

 snipe bags made this spring was right near Pullman, and 

 still closer in, along that singular bit of ground near 

 Englewood, some very good sport has been had lately, 

 only about five miles from the heart of the city. 



A good many of the boys will probably be out after 

 snipe this week, but the returns are not yet fully in. 

 The probability is favorable for some fast and furious 

 fun before long. 



But few golden plover have been killed about here this 

 season. It is nearly time they were here. These birds 

 are not much understood and are not much hunted by 

 Chicago shooters. 



The foolish Illinois law still permits the killing of ducks 

 till the first of May. After seeing the mallard upon her 

 nest of eggs nearly two weeks before the first of May, at 

 least two shooters lost all desire to hunt ducks any later, 

 and it is near the truth to say that very few Chicago 

 shooters are trying to kill any ducks in Illinois. We have 

 a better duck law below us. Above us, in Wisconsin, we 

 have a better bass law. It is illegal to catch bass yet in 

 Wisconsin, but, unfortunately, many of our more thought- 

 less anglers are already at the business of catching bass 

 on the spawning beds. The law says they may. 



Mr. C. D. Gammon is out again, after a long and dan- 

 gerous illness, and looks pretty badly. He ought to go 

 snipe hunting pretty soon. That will cure him, I know. 

 A week or so ago I was all "run down," I believe they 

 call it, and chartered a doctor, who gave me four kinds 

 of medicine and told me not to get my feet wet. "Come 

 in every other day," he said, "and I'll touch your throat 

 for you." He would also touch my pocketbook for me. 

 I went snipe shooting, disobeyed the injunction about 

 wet feet, got good and tired and awfully hungry, and 

 now my throat, etc , don't need to be touched, and I 

 haven't got any "run down." No man can be healthy 

 who hasn't got his nose sunburned. And now the days 

 of sunburn draws on apace, whereat sick and suffering 

 humanity may indeed rejoice. 



April 25. — All previous reports about the snipe |are de- 

 clared off. The birds are coming in and are in. 



Billy Mussey has just got back from his day's shoot at 

 Mak-saw-ba marsh, and behind his desk he has a bunch 

 of plump brown birds such as makes all spectators sigh 

 with envy. He has 36 jacksnipe and 20 plover, yellow- 

 legs, etc., all killed in one day. He evidently found 

 'em. Billy is a little bit excited yet, but from his story 

 it would appear that he stood out in the marsh and fired 

 broadsides all day, while six natives ran an ammunition 

 train out to him, and three smoke-begrimed powder mon- 

 keys passed fresh shot and shell up from the magazine of 

 the boat. The action must have been a bloody and ex- 

 citing one, and the proof of the accurate service of Billy s 

 artillery. 



Mr. Mussey's hunt was on Wednesday, and on that day 

 the air was full of snipe and then "booming" could be 

 heard on every hand. At night the snipe, plover and 

 ducks could be heard passing over the club house all 

 night. Bluewing teal and other ducks were numerous 

 on the marsh, more so than has been the case in a long 

 time. The water has fallen 2ft. in the past week on Mak>- 

 saw-ba marsh, and the ground is getting into splendid 

 condition for snipe. Woodcock are nesting in numbers 

 on the club grounds and there will be fine shooting at 

 those birds this summer, along thirty to fifty miles of 

 the Kankakee. Mr. Brown, a Mak-saw-ba member, once 

 iast year killed 9 woodcock before breakfast, within a 

 half mile of the club house. 



Doubtless many readers are skeptical of the assertion 

 that the jacksnipe will sometimes alight on a tree. Mr. 

 Mussey settles the question, for on his late trip he saw a 

 jacksnipe so alight, and moreover, killed and bagged the 

 bird when it flew. That is rather an unusual thing — I 

 mean it is unusual for a snipe to do so. 



Mr. H. C. Hayt bagged eleven snipe on Mair-saw-ba 

 marsh last Tuesday, and Mr. J. Shailer nineteen. There 

 is no longer any doubt that the flight is well on hand at 

 that part of the Kankakee. The snipe are heard coming 

 in day and night, and have been seen by moonlight as 

 they came dropping into the marsh. The last is a rare 

 and singular sight. 



To settle all remaining doubt about the birds let me 

 say that Italian Joe, the most successful market-hunter 

 on this green earth for snipe, woodcock and golden plover, 

 is now out at his old stand near Summit, and has bagged 

 200 snipe and plover in one day. He shoots all the spring; 

 and shoots for money. It is interesting to note that his 

 ground is only about eleven miles from the middle of 

 Chicago. 



It was Mr. Joe Card, who with Mr. John Watson, 

 bagged 116 birds at Mak-saw-ba. But they got only about 

 half jacksnipe, the balance mixed. E. Hough. 



[In issue of last week, read R. A. Turtle instead of "R» 

 A. Twette," as the types had it.— E. H.J 



A Meat Hunt.— A Mr. Buckles, living near Jersey ville, 

 HI., in December last went to Berdan, Kan., where he 

 was met by three other men, who fitted out two two- 

 horse wagons with all the necessary equipments for a 

 long hunt in the wilderness. They headed for Arkansas 

 City, and drove south into Oklahoma, then west through 

 the Cherokee Strip into the panhandle of Texas, and dur- 

 ing three weeks after leaving Kansas they killed 21 deer, 

 90 wild turkeys, 76 coyotes, which they left where they 

 fell, 145 prairie chickens, and quail without number. 

 They sold enough game to pay the expenses of the trip 

 and had a balance of $20 each to their credit. — C. 



Ohio Game Notes— Dayton, Ohio, April 22.— Wood- 

 cock are expected to begin hatching this week. Many 

 more nests than is usual are found around the edges of 

 the swamps and along the branches and streams. Snipe 

 brought in this week are of much larger size than ear- 

 lier in the season. One hunter brought in 12 yesterday 

 that would weight ooz. each. He shot a rail that weighed 

 9oz. The snipe hunters report an abundance of quail. 

 One party scared up a dozen coveys on one farm Satur- 

 day. Their being in coveys shows that the quail are not 

 yet mating. — Btjckete. 



Names and Pobtraits of Birds, by Gurdon Trumbun. A 

 book particularly interesting to gunners, for by ita use they can 

 Identify without question all the American game birds which 

 they may kill. Cloth. 330 pages, price $3,50. For sale by Forest 

 and Stream. 



