Nor, 18, 1890,] 



Forest and stream. 



329 



>mm jjjjxg and §mj. 



The eull texts of the game laws of all the States, Terri- 

 tories and British Provinces are given in the Book of the 

 Game Laws. 



CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 



C CHICAGO, 111., Nov. 7.— The last couple of weeks have 

 been spent in that portion of the realm commonly 

 known as "bleeding Kansas." Just why it is called 

 bleeding Kansas is hard to say, for it's too dry to bleed 

 just now. Probably the term arises from the practice cf 

 the Great Bend liverymen, who try to bleed everybody 

 they take for a tenderfoot during their harvest of the 

 coursing club meeting at that place. 



Kansas is dry this year, and no mistake, and the glory 

 of her boom has departed for the present. But though in 

 real estate circles times are dull, in sportsmen's circles 

 it is rather the reverse. The capricious State, changeable, 

 uncertain, now impoverishing and again lavishing wealth, 

 on her devotees alike in real estate and sport, is this fall 

 on hand with one of the best crops for upland shooting 

 which has been known in any recent time. The table- 

 lands of the upper Arkansas valley have not had water 

 enough for a great flight of wildfowl, the marshes of the 

 Rattlesnake, below Larned, seeming to be about the only 

 place where many ducks were coming in at the close of 

 the past month, not even the pools of the Cheyenne Flats 

 having enough acreage to attract the wildfowl. But all 

 over the State, so far as we could learn, all the way from 

 Great Bend to Hutchinson, at least, and from Hutchinson 

 up tt- Salina, the quail crop was something simply tremen- 

 dous. At Hutchinson Fokest and Stream's valued cor- 

 respondent "Shady" informed me that the quail were 

 abundant, though" there had been more or less shooting 

 before the season opened. Himself and Eli Young had 

 gotten a few ducks only, out at the ponds cast of town, 

 the ducks not having yet arrived in any numbers. 



At Great Bend, Kan., quail shooting has been going on 

 for the past thirty days. One of the attendants at the 

 coursing meet, a St. Louis physician, was out on several 

 different days, bagging from a. dozen to two dozen quail 

 daily, a week before the law was out. Nobody molested 

 him, for all the shooters at Great Bend were doing the 

 same thing. I presume we must bow in blind submission 

 to the law, but I confess that the Kansas quail law is a 

 thing deserving but slight respect. It opens the season 

 at Nov. 1, a date which by reason of climatic conditions 

 ■confines the shooting season to only about thirty days, 

 usually of rather raw, rough weather. This fact alone is 

 not so exceptionally bad,, although the birds in October 

 are perfectly developed and able to take care of theni- 

 iselves; but "the law has other features, as an attorney 

 friend, Mr. Win. Osmond, of Great Bend, pointed out to 

 .me. After a close study of this wise effort of the Kansas 

 Legislature, we came to the conclusion, doubtless legally 

 correct, that under the Kansas statute it is absolutely un- 

 lawful for any person to kill a quail in Kansas, except 

 upon his own land, and between dates of Nov. 1 and Jan. 

 1 1 Look this law up in the Book of the Game Laws, and 

 let us see whether we have the latest statutes. If so, a 

 rather astonishing state of affairs is developed and one 

 -more dead letter discovered among the game laws. Un- 

 der our reading, no alien and no resident could shoot 

 quail except upon his own land. When this was borne in 

 upon me, for once 1 rebelled openly and declared my in- 

 tention of breaking the Kansas law, though not by 

 shooting before the date, of Nov. 1. That seemed to me 

 as close to the letter of the law, and as far away from 

 common sense, as a white man need to go.* 



As has been stated earlier in another column the great 

 Ubl and Carney ranch, north of Great Bend, was this 

 fall sold to other parties, Mr. Carney, much is the pity 

 for that community, may possibly go to another country. 

 Mr. Carney is gentleman, ranchman, greyhound man, 

 fox-terrier man, bird-dog man, shooting man and a whole 

 lot of other things all combined. "You don't get out of 

 this State alive until you've gone quail shooting," said 

 Mr. Carney: and as a matter of fact I didn't, although 

 that at first seemed impossible. 



A party was made up by Mr. E. T. Vernon, of Larned. 

 under which arrangement several of us were to have 

 gone south of Larned, along the Rattlesnake, after ducks 

 and chi< kens, but the Hutchinson coursing meeting broke 

 that up. At the close "of that meeting only one day in- 

 tervened before the opening day of the quail season, 

 which fell on Saturday. There was no refusing Mr. Car- 

 ney, Mr. Luse, also of the Bend, promised to go shoot- 

 ing also. I hesitated, was promptly lost, as I knew all 

 along 1 was going to be, and was soon back in Great 

 Bend, 55 miles from Hutchinson, over the old Santa Fe 

 trail, A little later a solitary horseman might have been 

 seen turning up the lane of the Carney ranch in a buggy 

 ■drawn, by a deliberate and broken-kneed Western pony, 

 fresh from his home in a livery barn. 



But alas, alas! Mr. Luse did not appear on the follow- 

 ing morning, as was agreed, and a long-winded customer 

 came to buy a lot of cattle from Mr. Carney. Alone in 

 Kansas, with only one day to spare from business. 



As this juncture Mrs. Carney — may she live a thousand 

 years and be happier each year — came to the rescue with 

 a lieutenant in the shape of her son Charlie Carney, astat 

 8 years, already somewhat of a slayer of snowbirds with 

 an air gun, and with strong symptoms of becoming a chip 

 off of the parent block. Charlie wanted to go quail hunt- 

 ing with me. That settled it at once, and therefore 

 when the sun was just getting things warmed up a little 

 on the morning of Saturday, Nov. 1, Charlie and I were 

 rolling over the Cheyenne Flats, bound for beyond the 

 hills, where the open sesame of Mr. Carney's name was 

 to secure for us a day's shooting along the hedges of a 

 certain nursery which abounds in quail, but which is by 

 no means open to the public. 



To those who have never gone hunting with a boy eight 

 years old, and looked through his still unwearied eyes at 

 what may still be remembered for one's self as once a big 

 and wonderful and beautiful world, let me say it is a 

 pleasure of whose memory one is bound to be very 

 .jealous. All the world is real to the boy. He believes 

 that all he sees is really there. His joy is actual. The 

 widening horizon is widening heaven for him, and each 



* The Kansas law on quail, as given in the Boole of the Game 

 Laws, forbids their capture, "provided, it shall not he unlawful 

 for a person to shoot quail on Iris own premises, between the first 

 day ol November and the first day of January of each year," j 



creature he sees is a fine and glorious thing. His geese 

 are swans. The hardest cynic must melt his heart before 

 the genuine fervor of a live boy's happiness, and in that 

 happiness be happy too, if the earth and the air be not 

 already enough for that. 



"There's a owl!" sung out Charlie, as we passed a "dog 

 town" over which a little prairie owl was flapping about. 

 "Give it to him!" 



Now I had in mind a proposition of Mr. Carney's, thai 

 no shooter could kill more than about three out of five of 

 these same undersized Minerva birds, and I just wanted 

 to show Charlie how little his papa knew about my skill 

 on owLjs, So I slipped in a couple of shells, and as the 

 owl flopped by in easy range, I sprang to the ground and 

 cut away at him. The owl gave a jump and a great dive, 

 and then went on placidly. I gave him the left barrel, 

 and he made another dive, and wasn't in it again. A 

 most malfeasant, improper sort of owl, and one mis- 

 formed in judgment of eternal fitness. By all the rules 

 of war that owl's time had come. "W'y didn't you kill 

 'im?" asked Chailie, as I crawled back into the buggy. 



A big cliicken-hawk next occupied our attention, and 

 we opened a running fire on him as he flew along the 

 fence, at last knocking him over with a charge of No. 6, 

 much to Charlie's edification. "Now we'll shoot some 

 snow-birds:" said he, "I think we're makiuga pretty good 

 beginning." But the snow-birds wouldn't hold still 

 enough for Charlie, and so we drove on, and at noon bad 

 our credentials honored by the lady of the place, with our 

 horse in the shed and our luncheon eaten, as well as we 

 could eat for the whistling of the quails, which we could 

 hear within a hundred yards of the house. 



We must not forget the third member of our party, Mr. 

 Carney's setter, Lady. This clever little bitch is one of 

 a pair selected for Mr. Carney by the writer from Tommy 

 Davey's kennels at London, Out., and she has turned out 

 a very good bit of dogflesh. Her owner told me that she 

 was not well broken, as this was the fourth hunt she and 

 he had ever taken : yet I must say that she worked in 

 many ways like an old one, and showed all the making 

 of a most killing dog, her nose being remarkable and her 

 staunchness absolute. Her only fault was the little eager- 

 ness to wing common to all yotmg clogs, and the easiest 

 fault of all to correct. 



Well , Lady and Charlie and I were just about to start 

 away from the buggy, when there came a lusty whirring 

 of wings, and out of the orchard to our left sprang a. 

 goodly bevy of quails, thirty or more, it seemed to me, 

 and lit upon the hard open ground directly in front of US, 

 not 50yds. away. And there they stood, with heads erect, 

 looking square at us, brown, big, beautiful and bunched. 

 Yes, bunched. And as I looked, an evil spirit came into 

 my mind. I knew I could make a killing with that right 

 barrel which I had purposely had bored out open for 

 quail. I knew that one raking, murderous swipe through 

 that bunch of quail would assure my bag for that day, 

 I shook and looked and trembled; and if old St. Anthony 

 had any tougher time than I had, he had it under less 

 temptation, that is all I have to say about it. "It would 

 never do," thought I; "the boy must be brought up right. 

 I'll treat Mr. Carney's boy and Mr. Carney's dog on the 

 dead square, so help me. But oh, holy Moses! what a 

 wad of 'em I could lay out ! If something doesn't happen 

 pretty quick I don't know what I'm going to do about this!" 



Lady had set the birds on sight. She drew a step 

 closer. Three or four of the nearer birds went up, and 

 as they rose I fired, the whole flock springing as I touched 

 the trigger. I expected to kill about a hundred as they 

 rose, for it seemed to me the air was full of quail, but 

 only two dropped out to the first barrel. Then I regained 

 a somewhat more sportsmanlike frame of mind, covered 

 a single bird with the left and killed it clean at long 

 range. They say confession is good for the soul, and I 

 want to say right here in open meeting that while I 

 didn't shoot into that flock of quail on the ground, I had 

 a "most almighty narrow escape from it," as "Uncle 

 Kingfisher" would say. It caught me sharply, these 

 being the first quail I have seen for about a year. 



We now crossed a little bean patch, and here I saw 

 half a dozen quail running just ahead of me. These I 

 could have potted easily, but the temptation was gone 

 now, and I put them up, getting one and missing one. 

 After that I had frequent sight of running birds, and be- 

 lieve I could have bagged seventy-five at ground shoot- 

 ing, but was able to keep from that; although I consider 

 that to be alone along a Kansas hedgerow with a lot of 

 quail trotting in plain sight ahead of you is a rnighly 

 dangerous situation for weak and erring human nature. 

 It is best to take a friend along to watch yon. 



"We're doing pretty well," remarked Charlie encour- 

 agingly, an he stuffed our four quail into the pockets. 



We now took to the hedges, and never in my life have 

 I seen a better chance for a great day's shooting than we 

 now found. Lady made point after point, in splendid 

 style, and we had three big bevies scattered in less than 

 fifteen minutes. This hedge shooting is the prettiest on 

 earth when there are two shooters. The birds stick to 

 the hedge, flying up or down it, and with a gun on each 

 side it is plain that few birds get away unsaluted. With 

 but one gun, the case is quite different. The birds nearly 

 always fly out on the side opposite to the shooter, and 

 there is next to no chance to get a sight of them as they 

 dart along the thick osage wall. Sometimes we partially 

 remedied matters, when Charlie and Lady would go 

 down one side of the hedge while I took the other. 

 "She's got a point!" the boy would call out, eagerly, 

 from his side of the hedge, and then when I came up he 

 would poke in the leaves with his little galvanized gun 

 barrel and put the bird up, in which case we usually got 

 the quail or scared it pretty bad. Once we located a 

 cripple in the hedge, and on this Charlie made advance. 

 I said he carried an air gun; it was really a spring gun, 

 using a single No. 1 shot. The spring had become weak 

 from constant employment, so that when Charlie shot 

 his quail with it he only made it squeak at first. Finally, 

 however, he stood off and made a line shot on its back, 

 which laid it out. This quail he carried about with great 

 pride for some time. "I've noticed that my gun shoots 

 harder if I get off a little way," remarked he, "and I've 

 found out there's a soft place in a bird's back." 



After the first dozen quail we did not work so hard, 

 and spent a lazying afternoon, with some rests in consid- 

 eration of legs only eight years old, and some mild dis- 

 cipline for Lady when she showed a wish to capture any 

 of the omnipresent jack rabbits, and some talks on 

 natural history, in which latter the youngster asked a lot 

 of puzzling questions, after the fashion of youngsters 



generally. I don't know how any one could have a pleas 

 anter half day afield. The air was fine and warm, the 

 game was abundant and easily found, dog and gun were 

 working well, and my companion was one of the very 

 pleasantest I ever had with me on a shoot. Plucky, un- 

 complaining, a theorizing and moralizing little fellow, 

 with a strong disposition to know the why of things, but 

 a keen enjoyer of what was going on — I am not sure but 

 I owe more than half the pleasure of the day to Charlie, 

 I wonder will he grow up and go shooting with some lit- 

 tle fellow some day, and whether he will remember this 

 day then? Dies juventi! 



There were a great many jack rabbits and cotton-tails 

 about the nursery, and in accordance with the wish of 

 the owner, we killed a few of these to assist in protecting 

 the young trees: although in what we may call the grey- 

 hound country of Kansas, it is not now considered a very 

 nice thing to kill a jack rabbit with a gun. In the even- 

 ing, as we were coming home , we saw one of these great 

 hares sitting in a field, apparently nearly 60yds. distant. 

 The boy wished me to fire at it, and this I did with the 

 close left barrel, using a No. 7 shot shell. To my surprise 

 the animal was killed quite dead. They eeern very easily 

 knocked over. This was a very large specimen. When 

 Charlie, arrayed for warmth in my shooting coat, a world 

 too large for him, came lugging the creature back to the 

 buggy, I noticed that it dangled over his back with the 

 forefeet below the edge of the coat and nearly touching 

 the ground as he grasped the hindlegs over his shoulder. 

 This hare, with another not quite so large, was on the fol- 

 lowing day hung up in Mr. Carney's parlor, and a deft 

 young kinswoman of the family made from the pair a 

 very spirited and faithful painting. I question whether 

 our long-eared little deer, as he sat up in the pasture and 

 dared the shot from the distant roadside, knew that he 

 was bidding for so swift and. fine an immortality as he 

 has received. 



Charlie and I bagged twenty-two quail that day besides 

 our fur and the big hawk, and the owl we didn't get. .All 

 in all it seemed to me a very beautiful little hunt, We 

 might have gotten more birds, but I'm awfully glad now 

 that I didn't shoot into that bunch of quail on the 

 ground. We did enough to prove that quad are plenti- 

 ful enoiigh for any one in westeim Kansas, and moreover 

 to prove, for ourselves at least, that there can be a whole 

 lot in a day outdoors which you didn't bring home in 

 your pockets. For instance, there was the point Lady 

 inade on the single quail right out on the buffalo grass. 

 The boy called it out to me, but when I turned it seemed 

 to me that Lady must be mistaken, the cover was so very 

 short. But by careful search we at length discovered the 

 bird not over 4ft., I should think, from Lady's nose, and 

 just barely half covered with a little wisp of red grass. 

 The bright and beady little eye, with the white band 

 over it made the only possible mark by which to locate 

 the bird, though after we had found it we could see every 

 feather plainly. It is not often one can see the bird his 

 dog is pointing, but here we saw the whole vivid, beauti- 

 ful little picture. I suppose now some smart young fel- 

 low will want to ask, Did you get the quail? I am sorry 

 to say I did. I believe it jumped 40ft. before it unfolded 

 a wing. But that was a very pretty jjoint that Lady 

 made. 



The only unpleasant part about this little shoot was the 

 saying good-bye to the host and his family. Mr. Carney 

 will soon leave the ranch, and it is not yet certain where 

 he will locate. It is certain that the community which 

 catches him will catch a pretty good pigeon shot and 

 some good saddle horses and a setter or two and some 

 dead game fox-terriers, and something more than that. 



So it seems that shooting matters in Kansas are all 

 right so far as the possibilities for game are concerned. 

 Chickens were reported fairly abundant in season . Quails 

 fairly swarm. Wildfowl will probably not be so very 

 abundant. 



The only other stops made West were at Des Moines 

 and at Newton. Iowa. Mr. John J. Hamilton, editor of 

 the Des Moines Daily Neios, was just upon the point of 

 starting for the Indian Territory for a hunt. Mr. Hamil- 

 ton is one of the hardest working reposers on the flowery 

 bed of journalism, and has taken to these trips because 

 he sees the sense in them, as well as the pleasure. 



That white-headed Dutchman, Rolla Heikes, of Day- 

 ton, Ohio, was at Des Moines visiting our mutual friend 

 Charlie Budd. I met them Tuesday evening, just getting 

 off the train from Somerset Junction, a little way below 

 Jjss Moines, where they had been having a two days' quail 

 shoot. They had — now what do you suppose they had, 

 these two expert and famous trap shots? They had noth- 

 ing, absolutely nothing! Hunted two days and didn't 

 bring a feather back with them! The fact is, they did 

 not see a single quail in the whole hunt. Yet they were 

 in a good country, and last spring, as Charlie Budd per- 

 sonally saw, quails were abundant all through that sec- 

 tion. ' It is probable that the birds migrated. Charlie 

 and Rolla each killed a pheasant (ruffed grouse) and a 

 cottontail, but they ate these down in the country. As 

 they got off the train they were a very weary and dis- 

 gusted pair of shooters. That evening Rolla started East 

 for Freeport shoot. Charlie stayed at Des Moines with 

 his family, shot in the regular club shoot of the new and 

 vigorous club of which he is one of the mainsprings, and 

 will be on hand to meet Rolla Heikes. the Chicago team, 

 and all the rest at Kansas City tournament next week. 

 The exodus of the boys from this city will transpire now 

 shortly. 



From what little I could learn about game in central 

 Iowa, the prospect is not in the least encouraging. About 

 Newton, in Jasper county, where quails were once a com- 

 mon bird, none to amount to any thing at all are reported. 

 About the only game that part of the State can boast is 

 the hardy cottontail. A few squirrels and "pheasants" 

 are appearing again in the old shot-out covers and woods, 

 but regular sport for dog and gun is apparently a thing of 

 the past. E. Hotjgh. 



Loads and Loading. — Minneapolis, Minn, — Editor 

 Forest and Stream: I am satisfied the fashion out here is 

 for too light loads of shot, especially in the larger sizes, 

 Last September I loaded my 13-bore with 8£ p. and l^oz. 

 No. 4 for ducks against the protest of the man who did 

 most of the loading for the town, is a huntsman himself, 

 and who said those loads would knopk my shoulder blue. 

 Whereas, these loads did beautiful work, and the gun was 

 steadier in hand than when in discharged an ounce of 

 No. 8 shot. What say others?— W. A. W. 



