420 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May g, 189S. 



§ame §xg md §ntf. 



WHAT I FOUND IN THE HUNTING COAT POCKET 



TN my house there's a half hidden closet 



Just under the stairs to the loft. 

 And cobwebs are safe in its corners. 



For none of the hands that are soft 

 Ever dare touch the latch that will open 



To cartridge belte, shotguns and dangers. 

 But old Don and I ha ve a feeling 



Of pity for all the poor strangers 

 To things that are hung on those wall?, 



There'sa pair of big boots in one corner. 



And snipe decoys, rods and a float: 

 But dearest of all the odd things there, 



To me, is the soiled canvas coat. 

 And to-day in the hunting coat pocket 



I find a dry, shrivelled up leaf. 

 Here's a feather that once was a woodcock's, 



And one little twig, cornelto grief. 

 There's some rabbit hair, too, and loose grass seed. 



How quickly for alders of autumn 



My mind leaves, this hot summer day, 

 For frost covered corn shocks and stubble, 



And windrows of brown leaves— and gay, 

 That are rustled by partridge and hunter. 



The black duck springs quacking from rushes 

 Tbat shelter the muskrat and mink. 



And visions of rough, craggy ledges 

 Are all to be seen from my closet. 



The freedom that makes a man noble 



And draws him from so)did desires 

 Has come to me here for a moment. 



And now a woods spirit inquires 

 If the seeker for fame and a fortune 



Who wrecks both his body and mind, 

 Ever gainB at the end of the struggle 



A treasure as rich as I find 

 In the twig, and the leaf and the feather. 



Robert t. Morris. 



THE NATIONAL PARK FOR THE PEOPLE. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



The vigorous protest of Secretary Noble against grant- 

 ing extraordinary privileges in the Yellowstone National 

 Park to a corporation of Eastern capitalists reminds 

 those of us who happen to have been acquainted with 

 the Park and its surrounding couutry from the time Con- 

 gress first set it aside for a free pleasure ground for the 

 American people, that it has required constant vigilance 

 on the part of the true friends of the Park to prevent its 

 becoming the exclusive property of rapacious corpora- 

 tions, whose motto is best expressed in the words of a 

 late eminent railroad man, "The public be d d." 



I do believe that if it had not been for your help and 

 the unremitting efforts of a few men, in and out of Con- 

 gress, the "common people" would not have been per- 

 mitted to view the curiosities of wenderland without 

 paying tribute to some corporation for the privilege. In 

 truth it is hard to do this even now, as but little compe- 

 tition in the way of transportation and entertainment is 

 possible under present regulations. 



Great corporations have grasped nearly all the public 

 domain and many valuable franchises in our land, and 

 they now turn their attention to the Park again and 

 attack it with renewed vigor. Why is it that hotel and 

 other privileges can not be let to individuals instead of 

 one company, so that there might be competition to bene- 

 fit the public and prevent extortion? Why is it that 

 every thing must be done by corporations, unless it is 

 that as a corporate body people can do that which con- 

 science would not permit them to do as individuals? 



Of late years nearly every attack on the National Park 

 has been made in the interest of the Northern Pacific 

 Railroad, wbich has a branch line to the border of the 

 Park, and which railroad practically controls all tourist 

 travel, and now under pretense of building a railroad to 

 Cooke City wants the privilege of going through the 

 Park, or in case Congress refuses to do that, as no doubt 

 it will, said railroad asks to have a slice cut off the Park 

 for their accommodation. 



Now, of course, none of these bills are asked in the 

 name of the Northern Pacific Railroad. They are aware 

 that the general public has perhaps become somewhat 

 prejudiced against that great corporation, as against the 

 Union Pacific and other railroad- 1 , which now owe our 

 Government millions of dollars and have received the gift 

 of an empire from the American people. So that the 

 passage of any bill aff acting the Park would really benefit 

 the Northern Pacific Railroad, as that corporation really 

 runs and controls all branch-line railroads in Montana 

 which are connecting lines, no matter under what name 

 they have been built. 



I have no doubt it is represented to Congress that there 

 is no other route by which a railroad can be built to Cooke 

 City, and should Congress have at heart to ascertain 

 whether these statements are truths (as they are not), it 

 will find that no known survey has ever been made 

 through the proposed route to Cooke City, and that 

 practicable routes, that would be of much greater benefit 

 to the country generally, have been found to Cooke City, 

 which are pronounced by competent engineers to not only 

 be as practicable, but better than any proposed route 

 through the Park. Two of these routes are the Clark's 

 Forks of the Yellowstone, which was surveyed some years 

 ago and pronounced a practicable route, and the route up 

 the Stillwater River. 



These routes may not be of such value to the Northern 

 Pacific Railroad as one through the Park, but why should 

 Congress give away the Nation's playground and the last 

 refuge for our elk, deer and buffalo, when practicable 

 railway routes do exist, have been surveyed and are 

 known by any man living in Montana, Ask either of the 

 following honorable gentlemen, Senators Sanders and 

 Power, or Congressman Dixon, whether the above facts 

 are not true. Lot Congress before submitting to this 

 robbery of the Park look over the Yellowstone Park map 

 and acquaint itself with the lay of the land, and then 

 pause when it considers the amount of land these danger- 

 ous bills would take away from our game and the people. 



Wby , Mr Editor, thr se bills &<?em to ma more rapacious 

 than any bill to day before the Fifty-second Congress, 



Other railroads are approaching the confines of the Park 

 as rapidly as they can be built, and no doubt one of them 

 will go to Cooke City via the Clark's Forks route, which is 

 known to be practicable; the Northern Pacific, if these 

 nefarious bills fail to psss, no doubt would build up the 

 Stillwater River to Cooke City from Stillwater, which in 

 distance, considering about thirty-five miles of said route 

 which is as level as the floor in the halls of Congress, 

 would be but a few miles greater than the proposed route 

 through the Park. 



It is admitted that the miners of Cooke City should 

 have a railroad for they have waited for years, but even 

 if there were no other route than through the Park, it 

 would seem that the interests and rights of sixty million 

 people should outweigh the interests of six hundred, and 

 it would seem wiser for our government to compensate 

 the miners than to permit any corporation to gain addi- 

 tional foothold in the National Park, for if one company 

 is granted such privilege it would not be consistent to say 

 that no other company should have equal rights, unless 

 our government having only granted one-half of the 

 country to that "one corporation" wishes to remedy the 

 matter by giving them the other one-half. 



A large extent of Montana and Wyoming country has 

 recently been added to the Park, and u looks inconsistent 

 to add country that tourists never visit, and which is 

 only valuable for the minerals it may contain, to cut off 

 the other side at the dictation of a corporation, a strip of 

 country which would virtually destroy the only refuge 

 for game in the winter, as the portion which is asked to 

 be segregated is the least elevated in the Park. 



Now it is a fact not generally known outside of the old 

 timers in this country, that before any move was made 

 by the United States Congress to set aside and create the 

 National Park,individuals had in good faith located claims 

 at the Mammoth Springs and other places, intending to 

 accommodate, and had to some extent prepared to enter- 

 tain, the tourist travel which was certain to come when 

 the wonders of that region became generally known. No 

 hesitation was then shown in enjoining their rights and 

 throwing them out of the Park, and to install strangers in 

 then places. Why was this done? The answer is, the 

 original claimants were not incorporated; their succes- 

 sors were. Montana. 



HOW I LOST AND FOUND THE BIG HORN 



HOW is it that all of our older and many modern 

 writers claim that mountain sheep when jumping 

 off a cliff light on their heads? This was always a puzzle 

 to me from boyhood up; and since hunting them in the 

 Elk Mountains of Colorado, and watching them bound 

 from rock to rock (and they can do some tall jumping), I 

 have come to the conclusion that some hunter' in an early 

 day had seen one accidentally fall and light on its head. 



I wonder if any of your writers ever hunted in the 

 Gunnison district of Colorado. Of all my wanderings in 

 the West and North with gun and rifle, I found that the 

 finest country for sport I ever Baw. Our ranch was 

 situated near the Gunnison River, about eight miles from 

 Gunnison City, though at that time (1880 81) there waB 

 very little city to it and no railroad. There was scarcely 

 a day in summer or fall when we could not see antelope 

 in the foot hills; and there might be a plenty there yet 

 but for the cruel and wanton destruction by the ranch- 

 men and pot-hunters. 



The first deep snow of winter was the signal for a grand 

 hunt by the men who hunt for meat and not for sport. 

 Their method was to find a large bunch of antelope, then 

 mount horses and give chase. When crowded in the 

 deep snow antelope form a sort of wedge, with the hind 

 ones crowding on those ahead, making it an easy matter 

 for men on horseback to overtake them ; and then revolver 

 and clubs did the business for the poor frightened animals. 

 One man always used a long cavalry saber. Every one 

 to their liking; but as for me, I would rather creep 

 through the sage brush on my hands and knees for a mile 

 and shoot one than slaughter a dozen with a club. 



I never was a successful fisherman. I can sit all day in 

 the wind and rain waiting for an occasional duck to come 

 along; but I never could wait patiently live minutes for a 

 trout to bite. But at that time a man needed neither 

 patience nor skill to keep the table supplied with fresh 

 mountain trout. By following up this creek twenty 

 miles, as fine a game country could be reached as hunter 

 could desire. Elk, black-tailed deer, mountain sheep and 

 an occasional silver-tip were all found in this locality. 



I well remember one hunt Bob and I had in this coun- 

 try. Some prospector in crossing the range bad seen 

 forest mountain sheep sign, and on his way to town he 

 stopped in at the ranch and told us about it. That even- 

 ing preparations were made for a few days' bunt and 

 roughing it— and any one who ever killed a mountain 

 sheep had to rough it at some stage of the proceedings, 

 besides taking the chances of broken limbs and other 

 accidents. 



The next morning bright and early saw us on the march, 

 with bedding, 25108. flour, lOlbs. bacon, a few cans of 

 Boston beans, a can of maple sugar for the flapjacks, the 

 long-handled frying pan, tin plates, etc., all securely 

 packed on Jack, our pack mule. 



Here let me pay a tribute to the memory of this same 

 old burro. We had rescued him the winter before from 

 a life of drudgery in packing ore over the red mountain 

 trail into Leadville. He was small even for a burro, 

 would not weigh over 4001bs. ; but he would cheerfully 

 carry our entire outfit and provisions for a month's hunt 

 or prospecting. The load on starting out weighed 3001bs. ; . 

 he had none of the "cussedness" generally ascribed to the 

 mule race, but was kind and gentle. No mountain bo 

 steep he would not try to climb it, and no river so wide 

 or swift but he would try to cross. Poor fellow! he was 

 cut off in his prime and his musical voice stilled forever 

 by falling on his back in a narrow but deep irrigating 

 ditch. No one was near to succor him, and a faithful 

 though humble friend joined the silent majority. 



But to return to the hunt. A day of hard climbing 

 brought us to our destination. We threw together some 

 logs in the form of a shanty, and the rest that only a long 

 tramp and a bed of pine boughs can give was ours that 

 night. The following morning saw us up at daybreak, 

 and after eating a hasty meal of pancakes and coffee we 

 made our plans for the day's campaign. It was decided 

 that as I was a little the better at a running shot I should 

 follow up the timbered ravine, where our camp was j 

 located, until I reached a cross ravine filled with quak- j 

 ing asps. This ravine would take me under cover to the 

 top of the range of cliffs, where we expected to find our 



game. Bob was to go down the ravine, and by making 

 a circuit of five or six miles strike the lower end of the 

 range in a place where he could work up through the 

 timber. We had learned from a former experience that 

 an animal like the mountain sheep, bred and raised in 

 the heights, looks for danger below; and while it is com- 

 paratively easy to approach them from above, it is the 

 next thing to impossible to reach their country from be- 

 low without being seen. Along toward noon I reached a 

 point on the bluffs, where I expected them to piss me, 

 providing there were any below; and a few momenta 

 later I heard the welcome sound of Bob's Winchester. 

 He fired three shots, and in an incredibly short time I 

 saw a monster buck and two ewes approaching at a speed 

 that would shame a racehorse. I saw at a glance that 

 my position was not all that could be desired, since they 

 were heading for a point at least 100yds. to one side. But 

 bracing myself for a steady shot I registered a vow that 

 those horns should be mine. As they passed I fired at 

 the buck. The only effect of the shot was to make him 

 lower his head and shake it. My next shot made him 

 beund into the air, but he landed on his feet and was out 

 of sight before I could fire again. I judged he was hit 

 through the body too far back for anv immediate results; 

 and my chagrin can be imagined as I saw the big fellow 

 go out of sight. Oa striking the trail we found blood in 

 plenty, and but for the short winter day and a snowstorm 

 approaching we would have got him. Bob had been 

 more fortunate, getting above the bunch; he approached 

 within 40yds. of them and succeeded in shooting two fine 

 ewes. 



Tbat night a big snowstorm came, and packing what 

 we could of the meat on old Jack we started for home. I 

 was partly rewarded the following fall by finding the re- 

 mains of the big buck, and I then learned what made 

 him shake his head at my first shot. The bullet had 

 struck one of his immense horns and about half the bul- 

 let was still imbedded in the horn. They were the largest 

 and finest pair I ever saw, being at least six inches 

 through at the base. I could not very well take them at 

 that time, and leaving the country soon after this I have 

 never been able to get them I have written my old 

 partner a close description of the country where they are 

 and he has promised to devote a week, if necessary, "look- 

 ing for them. W ANDEKEE. 



THE GAME OF THE DISMAL SWAMP. 



I7WERY reader of English poetry is familiar with the 

 J name of the Dismal Swamp, but that it bears an 

 enviable reputation among sportsmen as a place where 

 bear and deer hide is not so generally known. 



The Dismal Swamp, near Norfolk, Virginia, contains 

 over one hundred thousand acres. It is for the most part 

 covered with a dense growth of cy press, juniper, gum, 

 cedar, beech and oak. Several small streams flow 

 through it, and Lake Drumniond, a body of water, con- 

 taining about twenty square miles, is in the center. 

 Tbere are several prosperous farms in the clearings, and 

 a Norfolk timberman, who owns five hundred acres near 

 the lake, contemplates building a shooting station, form- 

 ing a club, or some other scheme of the kind. 



Little do the denizens of the crowded cities dream of 

 the piradise for the lover of sport in the vast Dismal 

 Swamp, of the numberless resorts for deer and bear, of 

 the enormous lake abounding with fish. The encroach- 

 ment of civilization has had no effect upon the coons 

 and opossums of the Virginia morass. The multiplica- 

 tion of steam vessels in Norfolk's harbor does not prevent 

 the robins and the blackbirds of the North from winter- 

 ing on the banks of the Jericho canal, while the tempting 

 clearings, the red-berried gum trees, the green masses of 

 reeds, tend to offer inducements to the partridge, wood- 

 cock, squirrel, rabbit and other small game. The Dismal 

 Swamp is a sportsman's paradise which should be the re- 

 sort of hundreds. 



The bear has a prominent place in the Dismal Swamp, 

 from its greater abundance and the quality of its flesh. 

 Dismal Swamp bear is the universal favorite at D dmoni- 

 co's table, and is more easily found than all others com- 

 bined. The deer of the Swamp, too, afford a wider field 

 for genuine sport than other localities. The opossum and 

 coon afford attractions for the lovers of fun, and there 

 are many who can recapitulate volumes of exploits 

 among the birds. 



Those who have found their conception of bear exclu- 

 sively from works of fiction have no adequate idea of the 

 lord of the Dismal Swamp. Like all nature'd products 

 he is lionized by contact with novelists. The bear is not 

 brave. He iB cowardly, weak, dirty, and a prey to an in- 

 ordinate appetite for farmers' pig. At very few periods 

 can he be honeBtly calied handsome or courageous when 

 in the presence of man, but in strength he is enormous, 

 and in speed he will sometimes rival an Arabian horse. 

 The swiftness and power with which he uses his claws 

 while capturing a "cattle-beast," a pig or beehive, is in- 

 credible. A hunting dog is frequency cut in two by a 

 single stroke of a bear's paw. But for real, genuine 

 bravery, where, becoming tired of being hunted, he tries 

 to infuse variety into the affair by hunting his enemies, 

 the bear does not possess it. The bear usually confines 

 himself to the dense growths of reeds by day, sallying 

 forth by night to the farmers' beehives, or to the haunts 

 of the "razor-back." Occasionally he will spring on the 

 back of a "cattle-beast," burying his teeth in tbe fright- 

 ened animal's neck, and using his claws to catch at the 

 trees and brush through which his victim dashes. 

 , Usually he kills his prey, but woe be to him if he is car- 

 ried into the "open," for there he is set upon by the 

 steers' companions and driven off. 



For bear shooting in the Dismal Swamp there are two 

 requisites in addition to the bear — men with guns and a 

 man on a horse. The first named halt on the border of 

 a jungle where a bear is supposed to be hid, while the 

 other drives the inhabitants of the jungle toward them. 

 The master of the hunt posts the sportsmen here and 

 there in pairs, so that each hunter has an especial rival, 

 against whom he is pitted, and whom he must, if possi- 

 ble, forestall in shooting the bf»ar. When the hunters are 

 posted the horseman advances into the jungle and with 

 loud shouts starts the game. A little later and the bear 

 shambles out directly into the arms of his enemies. 

 Another method of shooting the bear is to tie a pig by the 

 ! leg to a tree in the open, and in the evening the hunter 

 j takes a position near by, employing a negro boy to keep 

 | the pig awake. Four drams of good powder, an ounce 

 and a half of buckshot, and a little attention to business, 

 will usually settle the bear question, Bear are very 



