APRIL si, i8wi.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



878 



This river averages very clear even In times of high wa- 

 ters, so some idea of the floods may be had. 



Horicon Marsh, Wis., is full of ducks. No shooting 

 allowed there. 



A writer in the Sheboygan county News, April 6, has 

 following interesting remarks to make about quail in the 

 early days of this region: 



'•The recent announcement that the Sheboygan Gun 

 and Rod Club had received seven dozen pairs of quail 

 from Wichita, Kan., to stock their grounds with south of 

 the city, sets your correspondent thinking: 



"Mr. and Mrs. Bob Wnite, seven dozen of them and 

 from away ont West. Something strange about that 

 bird. An Indian never saw one until the whites came, 

 and they called them the white man's bird. And they 

 never saw a white clover flower (this they named a white 

 man's foot in blossom), or a honey bee either, before the 

 pale faces came. 



" 'Swarms the stinging fly. The Ahmo. 

 Swarms the bee, the honey-maker.' " 



"So according to Hiawatha, sang the redman. Even 

 prairie chickens never go many leagues ahead of culti- 

 vated land and grain fields. The good book tells of the 

 flock of quail sent to feed the Israelites in the desert. In 

 the fall of '50 something like that happened in this then 

 amall burg. Not that we were particularly hungry for 

 quail on toast, like these old-time fellows, or were suffer- 

 ing for food, or grumbling, but the birds came all the 

 same. A sleet storm came and in it were hundreds of 

 quail. They seemed chilled and stupid, and many of them 

 were caught by being driven into corners. In one case a 

 dozen or two were driven under a barn and caught. As 

 the storm cleared off they got lively, and for months were 

 often seen and heard about the town. The writer got 

 some boys (one of whom was "Dock" Pape, now Mr. C. 

 H. Pape, of the dairy farm) to catch a few, which were 

 kept for a time in the store that stood on the ground now 

 known as No. 422 Eighth street. They did not do well in 

 confinement and so were turned loose. Where did they 

 all come from? It was then and is still a mystery. Some 

 claimed from across the lake. But that could never be, 

 for they are not of long flight like wild pigeons. That 

 pigeons came across was well known, and tbat they ar- 

 rived very tired as well was also known to every boy who 

 owned or could borrow a shotgun. Some six or seven 

 years after the quail episode we moved to Illinois. There 

 birds were plenty and each year became more so, until 

 more wet— more wet or, if you please, buckwheat— buck- 

 wheat intermixed with a soft far-reaching whistle was 

 heard from morning to night, though more in the morn- 

 ing. About the farm one was always coming across their 

 nests, or a mother bird very lame with a dozen or so little 

 brown babies as large as your thumb. She was very lame, 

 so lame you could almost catch her until every baby was 

 hidden under a leaf, then she recovered. In time it beat 

 all cures ever heard of, except perhaps miracles. She 

 fooled you she thought and saved her children, but you 

 were on to her little game and stepped away very care- 

 fully not to crush a little one under a leaf. As the weeks 

 went on the children grew bigger, but the family kept 

 together, sleeping at night in a bunch as close as they 

 could pack in the grass. The next spring they broke up 

 and each went for himself ; and the hunter and his dog 

 for all. In spite of tins they increased in the land until 

 the terrible New Year Day of the second year of the war, 

 when a hundred miles south of Chicago the thermometer 

 marked 40 e below zero and cattle froze to death on the 

 prairie. It seemed queer that it was much less cold a 

 hundred miles north of Chicago, although very cold. Bob 

 White was frozen to death almost to a bird, and they 

 have not been as plenty since. The prairie chickens 

 thinnpd out. but lived 'through the cold." 



E. Hough. 



STORIES OF THE OZARKS.-IV. 



[Continue d from Paw 3M.] 



" i EXPECT there's a story with that scar over your eye 

 1 if we could get at it."' 



"You're right, gents, and I'll tell you how I got it if 

 you aint tired o' listenin'. 



•Ten or twelve years ago I lived in oue of the southern 

 counties of the State borderin' on the Arkansas line, 

 where the spurs of the Ozarks run off into the swamps 

 and river bottoms. There was lots o' game in that sec- 

 tion then besides a heap o' fur, and as I made my livin' 

 by huntin'" and trappin', I reckon I got my share of it. I 

 built a new cabin, and me and the old woman had no 

 neighbors for miles: but we didn't feel a bit lonesome, for 

 we'd got used to that kind of a life. I put in the summer 

 purty easy, killing a few turkeys or a deer now and then 

 for the table: for in them clays there was no game law in 

 that part of Missouri that any one knowed of, and when 

 a man is hungry he is apt to be a law unto hisself. 



"A few hard frosts had Bet the leaves to fallin', and I 

 knowed it was time to be lookin' out for my winter's 

 meat. One mornin' at sunrise found me five or six miles 

 from the cabin. I never lived in anything but a cabin: 

 was born in a cabin, in fact, 



I was on a long ridge that led down toward the White 

 River bottoms. The ridge was purty well covered with 

 brush, with a few pines stattered here and there and 

 spotted in places with bald patches o' gravel. A light 

 rain the night afore had softened the ground long the 

 ravines, and there was enough deer sign in sight to make 

 a hunter's heart glad. 



In follerin' one of the plainest trails I ran across a bear 

 track in the mud that I was mighty certain was made 

 the night afore. I quit the deer trail at once and kept on 

 the trail o' the bear as well as I could, and found where 

 it had been feedin' on mast under a little patch o' white 

 oaks I knowed in reason it was headin' for the bottoms 

 a mile or two further on, for I knowed the country like a 

 book, and I kept on the trail till it turned into a pocket or 

 ueck of swampy land that ran up between two long 

 ridges or spurs that made out from the mountains. It 

 had a few big sycamores, elms and water oaks scattered 

 over it, and was covered with a net-work of vines, briers 

 and undergrowth so thick a rabbit could scarcely get 

 through it, but it was just the spot where a bear would 

 be apt to stake out his claim. 



Here I found a well-beaten path with plenty of tracks 

 goin' in and out, and T knowed if there was anythin' in 

 sign there was at least one bear in there, dead sure, 

 Puttin' a fresh cap on my gun, I went cautiously 'long 

 the trail with my rifle pinted ahead o' me ready to let 

 her go at the first thing that showed up. I bad to crawl 



part o' the way on account o' the vines overhead, and be- 

 sides I didn't want to make no noise, for I was as certain 

 a bear was in that thicket as if I had seed him with my 

 own eyes. I poked along slowly for a couple a hundred 

 yards, I reckon, with a slight wind in my favor, when I 

 smelt him." 

 "Smelt him?" 



"Yes, smelt him. A hunter that can't smell a bear 

 thirty yards, 'specially if it has been in its bed a few 

 days, had better quit huntin' bear. As I was say in', I 

 smelt bim and I knowed he was mighty close at hand. 

 There was a big fallen tree a few yards ahead o' me cov- 

 ered with briers and moss, toward which the trail led, 

 and I knowed in reason the bear was about or behind 

 that tree, if he was at home, for there was tracks goin' in, 

 and sure as shootin' when I got within twenty feet of it, 

 the bear raised on his hind feet and faced me with a 

 growl. 



"I didn't stop to say 'Good mornin', Mr. Bear, how's 

 your family? nor notb'in' o ! the kind, but blazed away 

 'thout takin' aim, and ran and crawled back on the trail 

 as fast as hands and legs would carry me. I got out o' 

 that a heap faster than I went in. 



"I heard a terrible racket in the brush behind me, and 

 I thought sure the bear was at my heels, for I wasn't at 

 all certain of my shot. When I got out into the open I 

 turned round to face the bear: but there was no bear in 

 sight. If I'd had one o' them repeatin' guns such as 

 you've got here, instead o' runnin' back on the trail like 

 a scart deer I'd have given him some more lead and set- 

 tled the business at once, 



"Well, I rammed down another ball and crept back on 

 the trail, just as I did afore, ready to shoot at a second's 

 notice: but I didn't see anything until I got to the log, 

 and lookin' cautiously over it there lay the bear in its bed 

 as dead as a nail in Noah's ark. 



"Well, the first thing I did was to turn it over to cut 

 its throat and bleed it, when I found it was a she bear 

 and sucklin' cubs, two of 'em. 'Now,' says I to myself, 

 'here's more game for you ; here's a whole family o' bears 

 waitin' to be killed.' I knowed them cubs wasn't far off, 

 and I looked round among the vines awhile, and not see- 

 in' ! em concluded they had treed; and sure enough, there 

 they were for certain up a scrubby oak about fifteen feet 

 from the ground, and not more than a hundred yards 

 from where I had shot the dam. 



"I drew a bead on one of 'em, when I thought, 'Sho! 

 no use to shoot 'em; no use to waste powder and lead. 

 I'll catch 'em alive. I've alius wanted a pet bear, and 

 now I'll have two of 'em. I'm in luck this mornin' for a 

 fact.' 



"I leaned my rifle agin a tree and hung my huntin' 

 knife and powder horn on a limb. The cubs looked as 

 innocent as two kittens, and I kind o' pitied 'em because 

 they'd lost their ma. 



"As I had no cords at hand I took off my galluses, a 

 pair the old woman knit me, and laid em down at the 

 root o' the tree to tie 'em with. Then I tightened up my 

 belt and shinned up the tree to the lowest one, and took 

 it by the back o' the neck and asked it to come down 

 with me and see the folks. He squabbled and objected 

 mightily, and hung on with a grip like death, but after a 

 lively tussle I got him down on the ground and throwed 

 him on his back and put my knee on him and tried to tie 

 him with one o' the galluses: but he squirmed like an eel 

 and squealed like a shote at hog-killing time, and I was 

 mighty 'fraid the head o : the family was loafin 'round in 

 the neighborhood, and hearin'the racket, might come 

 round to see what was goin' on, and make it mighty in- 

 terestin' to a feller: and to stop his noise I pulled off my 

 old wolf -skin cap and crammed it in his mouth. 



"Gents, I didn't have to climb the tree for the other 

 cub, for it dropped on my back all Bpread out like a flyin' 

 squirrel, and lit a bitin' and a clawin' with a vengeance. 

 It knocked the wind out o' me for a minute or two and I 

 had to let the other one loose and fight the last one, and 

 after kicking it in the ribs several times and hittin it 

 with my fists, I got it by the throat and was chokin' it. 

 I'd got its wind pretty well shut off, when the other one 

 jumped on me from behind. 



"Well, I fought 'em and kicked 'em the best I knew, 

 but I had nothin' on my feet but a pair of home-made 

 moccasins, and I reckon I didn't hurt 'em much, for 

 they'd come back at me madder than ever, with their 

 hair all bristled up like an old sow fightin" for her pigs. 



"When I'd turn to fight one of em, the other would 

 tackle me on the other side. This was more of a bear 

 fight than I'd bargained for, and I was gittin' the worst 

 of it. They was a heap bigger than they looked up the 

 tree. It was gettin' lively. I had no time to take a chaw 

 of tobbakker or spit on my hands. They had a heap more 

 fight in ! em than I reckoned on, and they were the 

 wickedest little cusses I ever seed, 



"Justin the worst of the scrimmage my huntin" belt, 

 which was nothin' but an old leather strap with a buckle 

 on it, broke in two; and my breeches, what was left of 

 'em that the cubs hadn't tore off of me, began to slip 

 down toward my knees. You may langh, gentlemen, but 

 it's the born truth, 'tis for a fact. I sometimes laugh my- 

 self when I think of it, but just at that time I didn't see 

 anything funny about it. I was too busy to even raise a 

 snicker." 



"That was an embarrassing situation."' 

 "You're right, young man, I never was so much em- 

 barrassed in all my life, except the time I had the fight 

 with the buck that I just told you about. Well, as I was 

 sayin', I catched my breeches by the waistbands and 

 made a dash for my huntin' knife; and as I did so my 

 foot catched in some creepers and I fell full length among 

 the vines, and both of them cubs was on top o' me 

 quicker'n you could snap a flintlock, and before I got un- 

 tangled from the vines and beat 'em off, they'd chawed 

 me up purty bad. I reckon they'd just found out about 

 their ma and was takin' revenge out o' me. 



"After a while I got loose from 'em and made another 

 break for the knife, with the cubs a chawin' at my heels, 

 and I got it that time, and tbat bear fight came to a 

 mighty sudden end. 



"There's nothing like a knife in a scrimmage. I've 

 found that out a heap o' times, but a feller often forgets 

 what he knows. 

 "Well, I had three bears on my hands," 

 "It was a x>oor day for bears too." 

 "No, it was a purty good day for bears. Four bears, in 

 fact, for I was purty bare myself, for them pesky cubs 

 had torn the clothes nearly all off of me and I was' bleed- 

 ing in more than twenty places. May be you don't 



believe me. Just look at the scar on the calf of that leg, 

 they tore it half off, and the other is mighty nigh as bad. 

 Look at this arm, see the marks of the teeth there, and 

 there: see that scar on my neck, well that's one place 

 they bit me when they had me down in the vines and 

 that ain't half of "em/ Yes, I'm a battle-scarred veteran, 

 sure enough, and the State of Missouri ought to give me 

 a pension for killin' so many varmints. 



"Oh, no, I didn't get all my scars in that fight. I've 

 had a heap more fights than one. I've learnt a heap o' 

 huntin' tricks in my time and I' ve made some purty bad 

 blunders, too. There's a heap in luck, but there's a heap 

 more in skill and cunnin', I've found that out too, but 

 if a hunter has both luck and skill he can do purty good 

 work. In them days I wasn't afraid of any varmints in 

 the Ozarks, and I ain't yet for that matter; but it's better 

 to have a cool head than a light pair o' heels, but both 

 are mighty good things to have 'round when you're alone 

 in the mountains. You see how I missed it in this case. 

 If I'd put my huntin' knife at the root o' that tree with 

 my galluses and been on the safe side them cubs wouldn't 

 have chawed me up the way they did." 



"Yes, but we'd nave lost the most interesting part of 

 that bear story. What's an old pair of breeches to a good 

 bear story anyway?" 



"The old breeches warn't worth much, for a fact, but 

 them cubs took right smart o' my hide along with 'em, if 

 you'll believe me. Well, to finish my story. When I 

 skinned that bear I found the bullet had gone plumb 

 through her heart and I couldn't have made a better shot 

 if I'd aimed at her a week. The old woman and me had 

 plenty o' bsar meat that winter. Bear meat dried and 

 smoked is purty good eatin", 'specially them cubs that 

 come so nigh gettin' away with me." 

 "Boys, that's a good one." 



"I could tell you huntin' stones the .balance o' the 

 night and all day ter-morrer, and then not get through, 

 but it's gettin' purty late and I reckon I'll have to go." 

 " Well, here's to the health of our guest." 

 "Same to you, gentlemen, and a successful trip." 



We broke camp early the next morning and headed 

 the teams toward the Arkansas Hue. As the day ad- 

 vanced mast and deer sign were more abundant and we 

 felt certain we were on the route to the promised land. 

 In the afternoon we ran on a flock of wild turkeys and 

 bagged two of them. 



The cook was glad to see meat coming into camp, for 

 the commissary was getting low, and he'd made up his 

 mind to send one of the teams back to St. Louis for sup- 

 plies. He said he'd cooked on the Mississippi steamboats 

 and in the lumber camps of the Northern pineries, and 

 for "right down gobble everything in sight and lick the 

 skillet," our appetites "took the bakery." 



In the afternoon of the seventh day out we rounded up 

 in a little, valley, and pitched the tents on the bank of a 

 beautiful spring that boiled and bubbled like a huge 

 cauldron. It was at least fifty feet in diameter, and the 

 water was almost as transparent as the air itself. One of 

 our party, who was an expert in such matters, said there 

 was at least fifty horse-power going to waste. It was 

 hastening on with its rush and roar as if impatient to 

 mingle its stainless waters with the turbid Mississippi. 



We were now in the heart of the wilderness. Here 

 was nature undented. This was the place we long had 

 sought, and permanent camp was agreed on. Three of 

 the boys shouldered their guns and struck out in differ- 

 ent directions to prospect and pick up some game: the 

 others stayed in camp to stretch the tents and make 

 everything snug for the night; to build a camp-fire and 

 get supper. About sundown the hunters came back with 

 a couple of turkeys, and reported plenty of deer sign, 

 and all were much elated over the jn'ospects. 



We turned in early, with visions of game galore flitting 

 through our heads. About midnight there was a stamp- 

 ing and snorting among the horses; and the dogs, that 

 were secured in a tent by themselves, set up a howling 

 that helped to keep up the racket, and fearing a stampede, 

 quicker than I can tell it that tent was empty and six 

 half-clad figures were shivering in the chilly night air. 

 After quieting the horses and looking to their fastenings 

 we crawled back to bed again. One of the old hunters 

 said the horses were frightened at a deer that was at- 

 tracted by the camp-fire: and he was right, for in the 

 morning there were fresh tracks of two deer that had 

 passed on the run within BuEfc of the tents. Tnis was 

 encouraging. 



The next day two bucks and a doe were hung in the 

 trees about the camp. We stayed here two weeks, and 

 every day brought something to the larder or increased 

 the stock of venison, with which we were to surprise out- 

 friends at home. Turkeys were fat and plentiful, and 

 m<my a fine fellow went to "keep the pot boiling." 



One of the boys shot at a bear as it was running 

 through the brush, but did not stop it. The hounds were 

 called in and put on its trail. They brought it to bay 

 twice, but did not hold it long enough for us to get a 

 second shot. Deerhounds are not bear dogs by a large 

 majority. We saw no panthers, but had the satisfaction 

 of hearing them scream at night, and had no chance to 

 test our nerves or skill on them in an open fight. 



The streams in that region are mostly fed from springs, 

 many of them remarkable for siz? and volume; and are 

 marvels of beauty aud purity. On the Black and White 

 rivers and their tributaries are many ideal fishing 

 grounds— a paradise for the lovers of the rod and reel. 

 Nothing is more deceptive than their apparent depth. A 

 stream which a novice might think to be two or three 

 feet deep would actually be twice that depth, as one 

 member of our party learned by experience. To save a 

 detour he attempted to cross what seemed a shallow 

 branch on a fallen tree, bat having on his shoulder a deer 

 which he had killed an hour before, and being further 

 incumbered with his gun, he missed his footing and fell 

 into the water up to his neck. He waded out and hur- 

 ried to camp. 



Our return trip was made without special incident, 

 and at the end of the fourth week we reached home with 

 eleven venison saddles and four an tiered beauties, making 

 fifteen head in all. The ribs and shoulders belonging to 

 these saddles went to make venison stews to fill that 

 insatiate void so much complained of by the cook, We 

 were bronzed by sun and wind and had taken a new lease 

 of life with increased avoirdupois, and had a fund of 

 anecdote withal to be kept green by repeti ion till the 

 mellow days of October called the clan together again. 

 St, Charles, Mo. CaMEKON, 



