Forest and Stream 



A Weekly Journal of the Rod and Gun. 



Terms, $4 A Year. 10 Rts. a Copy. I 

 Six Months, $2. t 



NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 18, 1892. 



I VOL. XXXVIII.— No. 7. 



1 No. 318 Broadway, New York. 



COIfTE^TS. 



Editorial. 



February Days. 

 Quirk Shooting. 

 Snap Shots. 



The Sportsman Tourist. 



The Gold Hunt. 

 Natural History. 



The European Bison.— ill. 

 A Double - Headed Gopher 

 Snake. 



Game Bag and Gun. 



The Devil's River Country. 

 A Hare Drive in Germany. 

 Hiram and the Bull. 

 New York State Convention. 



Sea and River Fishing. 



Trouting in the Cascades .— x. 

 "Winter Sports in North Caro- 

 lina. 



Chicago and the West. 

 Salmon at, Sea. 

 Six-Inch Trout Law. 

 Angling Notes. 

 Boston Anelers. 

 Notes from New Hampshire. 

 The Tarpon Record. 

 Sewer Fishing. 



Fishculture. 



New York Fish Commission. 



The Kennel. 



Chicago Dog Show. 

 Canadian Kennel Club Rules. 

 St. Bernard Club Specials. 

 Seen or Overheard at Chicago. 

 Dog Chat. 



Answers to Correspondents. 

 Canoeing. 



A Wide Cruising Canoe. 



Canoe and Camera. 



A Trip to the South Branch of 



the Potomac. 

 News Notes. 



Yachting. 



Bouncer, 

 American Y. C. 

 Feathering Propellers. 

 New Yachts. 

 News Notes. 



Rifle Range and Gallery. 



"Forest and Stream 1 ' Tourna- 

 ment. 



Trap Shooting. 



Under the Staufferhead's 



Shadow. 

 Drivers and TwisterB. 

 Matches and Meetings. 



Answers to Queries. 



For Prospectus and Advertising Rates see Page 165. 



FEBRUARY DAYS. 

 ¥ N the blur of storm or under clear skie?, the span of 

 *- daylight stretches further from the fading dusk of 

 dawn to the thickening dusk of evening. Now in the 

 silent downfall of snow, now in the drift and whirl of 

 flakes driven from the sky and tossed from the earth by 

 the shrieking wind, the day's passage is unmarked by 

 shadows. It is but a long twilight, coming upon the 

 world out of one misty gloom, and going from it into an- 

 other. 



Now the stars fade and vanish in the yellow morning 

 sky, the long shadows of the hills, clear cut on the shin- 

 ing fields, swing slowly northward and draw eastward to 

 the netted umbrage of the wood. 



So the dazzling day grows and wanes and the attenu- 

 ated shadows are again stretched to their utmost then dis- 

 solve in the flood of shade and the pursued sunlight takes 

 flight from the mountain peaks to the clouds, from cloud 

 to cloud along the darkening sky, and vanishes beyond 

 the blue barrier of the horizon. 



There are days of perfect calm and hours of stillness as 

 of sleep, when the lightest wisp of cloud fleece hangs 

 moveless against the sky and the pine trees forget their 

 song. 



But for the white columns of smoke that, unbent in the 

 still air, arise from farmstead chimneys, one might 

 imagine that all affairs of life had been laid aside for 

 a while, for no other sign of them is visible, no sounds of 

 them falls upon the ear. You see the cows and sheep in 

 the sheltered barnyards and their lazy breaths arising in 

 little clouds, but no voice of theirs drifts to you. 



No laden team crawls creaking along the highway nor 

 merry jangle of sleigh bells flying into and out of hear- 

 ing over its smooth coarse, nor for a space do the tireless 

 pant of engine and roar of train divide earth and sky 

 with a wedge of dissolving vapor. 



The broad expanse of the lake is a white plain of snow- 

 covered ice, no dash of angry waves assails its shore still 

 glittering with the trophies of their last assault; no 

 glimmer of bright waters greets the sun; no keel is afloat; 

 the lighthouse, its occupation gone, stares day and night 

 with dull eyes from its lonely rock, upon a silent de- 

 serted waste. 



In the wood you may hear no so\md but your own 

 muffled foot-steps, the crackle of dry twigs and the soft 

 swish of boughs swinging back from your passage, and 

 now and then a tree punctuating the silence with a clear 

 resonant crack of frozen fibers and its faint echo. 



You hear no bird nor squirrel nor sound of woodman's 

 axe, nor do you catch the pungent fragrance of his fire 

 nor the subtler one of fresh-cut wood. Indeed, all odors 

 of the forest seem frozen out of the air or locked up in their 

 Bources. No perfumed drops from the odor-laden ever- 

 greene, only scentless air comes to your nostrils. 



One day there comes from the south a warm breath, 

 and with it fleets of white clouds sailing across the blue 

 upper deep, outstripped by their swifter shadows sweep- 

 ing in blue squadrons along the glistening fields and 

 darkening with brief passage the gray woodlands. 



Faster come the clouds out of the south and out of the 

 west ? tfll they crowd the; sky, only fragments pf its in.- 



tense azure showing here and there between them, only 

 now and then a gleam of sunlight flashing across the 

 earth. Then the blue sunlit sky is quite shut away be- 

 hind a low arch of gray, darkening at the horizon 

 with thick watery clouds, and beneath it all the expanse 

 of fields and forest lies in universal shadow. 



The south wind is warmer than yesterday's sunshine, 

 the snow softens till your footsteps are sharply moulded 

 as in "wax, and in a little space each imprint is flecked 

 thick with restless, swarming myriads of snow fleas. 



Rain begins to fall softly on snow-covered roofs, but 

 beating the panes with the familiar patter of summer 

 showers. It becomes a steady downpour that continues 

 till the saturated snow can hold no more, and the hidden 

 brooks begin to show in yellow streaks between white, 

 unstable shores, and glide with a. swift whisking rush 

 over the smooth bottom that paves their rough natural 

 bed, and as their yellow currents deepen and divide 

 more widely their banks, the noise of their onflow fills 

 the air like an exaggeration of the murmur of pines, and 

 the song of the pines swells and falls with the varying 

 wind. 



After the rain there come, perhaps, some hours of 

 quiet sunshine or starlight, and then out of the north a 

 nipping wind that hardens the surface of the snow into 

 solid crust that delights your feet to walk upon. The 

 rivulets shrink out of sight again, leaving no trace but 

 water-w T orn furrows in the snow, some froz m fluff-s of 

 yellow foam and stranded leaves and twig^ , grass and 

 broken weeds. The broad pools have left their shells of 

 unsupported ice, that with frequent sudden crashes 

 shatters down upon their hollow beds. 



"When the crust has invited you forth, you cannot re- 

 trace your way upon it, and the wild snow walkers make 

 no record now of their recent wanderings. But of those 

 who fared abroad before this solid pavement was laid 

 upon the snow, fabulous tales are now inscribed upon it. 

 Reading them without question, you might believe that 

 the well-tamed country had lapsed into the possession of 

 its ancient savage tenants, for the track of the fox is as 

 big as a woll's, the raccoon's as large as a bear's, the 

 house cat's as broad as the panther's, and those of the 

 muskrat and mink persuade you to believe that the beaver 

 and otter, departed a hundred years ago, have come to 

 their own again. Till the next thaw or snow-fall, they are 

 set as indelibly as primeval footprints in the rocks, and 

 for any scent that tickles the bounds' keen nose might be 

 as old. He sniffs them curiously and contemptuously 

 passes on, yet finds little more promising on footing that 

 retains but for an instant the subtle trace of reynard'a 

 unmarked passage. 



The delicate curves and circles that the bent weeds 

 etched on the soft snow are widened and deepened in rigid 

 grooves, wherein the point that the fingers of the wind 

 traced them with is frozen fast. 



Far and wide from where they fall, all manner of seeds 

 drift across miles of smooth fields, to spring to life and 

 bloom, by and by, in strange, unaccustomed places, 

 and brown leaves voyage to where their like was never 

 known. 



The icy knolls shine in the sunlight with dazzling 

 splendor, like golden islands in a white sea that the north 

 wind stirs not, and athwart it the low sun and the wan- 

 ing moon cast their long unrippled glades of gold and 

 silver. 



Over all winter again holds sway, but have we not once 

 more heard the sound of rain and running brooks and 

 has there not be given us a promise of spring ? 



QUICK SHOOTING. 



THE Council of the British National Rifle Association 

 have cut out the rapid-firing competitions from the 

 grand aggregate list, so that in future any one wishing 

 to compete for the All-comers and Grand Aggregate 

 prizes will not be required to make scores at the time 

 target. 



The change is a concession to the most conservative 

 element in the body of contestants. That element is a 

 majority, and the Council as managers of a great enter- 

 prise demanding for its Buccess the good will of its rifle 

 shooting patrons very shrewdly, from a commercial point 

 of view, withdrew this class of test from this section of 

 the prize list. 



It has only been in the two last programmes of the as- 

 sociation that this prominence has been given to rapid 

 firing. It was placed there because it was felt by the 



more advanced shooters and military men that the pres- 

 ent system of slow shooting at a fixed target was only 

 the first chapter in the training for model riflemen, The 

 military experts were particularly strenuous on this 

 point and properly so. No rifle range can give that prac- 

 tice to the nerves which can simulate even remotely the 

 conditions which prevail when the shooter is at the same 

 time a target as well. This training can only be received 

 in skirmish and battle, but it was {one step toward it 

 when quick shooting was demanded by the rules of the 

 matches, and this was secured either by a time limit or 

 by a disappearing target. 



The strain was too much for the slow-going volunteer. 

 He wished leisure to arrange his paraphernalia, to potter 

 awhile with his fixings, and then, after duly watching 

 wind and weather for a period, pop away at the patient 

 bit of canvas waiting stretched in the distance. He may 

 be a very accurate rifleman, but off of that range or an- 

 other like it he is a very useless sort of shot. As a mili- 

 tary man he has much to learn and also much to unlearn ; 

 and it is better to do this learning on the range at homo 

 than in the face of an alert enemy on some foreign fight- 

 ing field perhaps. 



The Council has taken a step backward, under pressure, 

 no doubt. There ought to be some plan of quick-firing 

 and distance- judging in operation on every range where 

 there is any pretense of training soldier shots. 



4 MAGNIFICENT OPPORTUNITY. 

 1VJO sportsmen's organization in this country has ever 

 had a grander opportunity than that which is re- 

 vealed to the New York State Association by the convention 

 in Syracuse last week. The meeting was made up of repre- 

 sentatives from various fish and game clubs th> oughout 

 the State, gathered in response to a call sent out by Presi- 

 dent Horace White. The number of those in attendance 

 and the earnest spirit displayed demonstrates that the 

 time is ripe for a rally of the protective forces. Under 

 its present control the State Association has already 

 taken the lead in uniting all these forces. It only re- 

 mains for President White and his associates to carry 

 out their programme of such changes in the constitution 

 as shall provide for an annual meeting, apart from the 

 trap-shooting tournaments, for the consideration of 

 game protection. When such a change shall have been 

 made, the strong clubs now independent will, we believe, 

 join the State Association, bringing to it strength and 

 prestige. With such an accession of new forces, and con- 

 trolled by the spirit which pervaded the Syracuse con- 

 vention, the Association will be a powerful agency for 

 the control of legislation and the enforcement of the pro- 

 tective laws. 



SNAP SHOTS. 



THE Ontario Fish and Game Commission has presented 

 its report to the Legislature, and we hope to record 

 the prompt adoption of its recommendations. The open 

 season named is from Sept. 15 to Dec. 15, spring shooting 

 being strictly forbidden. The work of the commissioners, 

 Messrs. A. D. Stewart and A, E. Mallock, has been done 

 with thoroughness and intelligence, and a sensible and 

 adequate game law may be looked for. 



Dr. James A. Henshall is at Key West, where he has 

 completed arrangements to collect fresh fishes to be for- 

 warded to Washington and there cast for the Fish Com- 

 mission exhibit at Chicago. On Feb. 6 he shipped up- 

 ward of thirty kinds of fish, all of which arrived in per- 

 fect condition, and among them are some rare and beau- 

 tiful tropical species for which Key West is famous. By 

 means of fyke nets set on coral reefs, where seining is 

 impossible, the doctor hopes to secure many new fishes 

 hitherto inaccessible to collators. 



Two important events are down for next Tuesday in 

 connection with New York game interests. One is the 

 hearing of the Gould bill before the Assembly Committee 

 at Albany, and the other is the trial of the Delmonico 

 out-of-season woodcock case, which District Attorney 

 Nicoll has promised shall be put through on that day. 



An encouraging note comes from our Frankfort, Ky., 

 correspondent, who reports newly awakened interest in 

 game legislation in that State. The Kentucky Fish and 

 Game Club failed to secure the adoption of most desirable 

 measures by the last Legislature, but the agitation of the 

 subject was not without effect. It takes fome years of 

 campaigning before the public is prepared for reform, 



