May 19, 1898.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



473 



it seems to me, why they could not be successfully trans- 

 planted here. Mr, Cooper, the British consul at Ningpo, 

 told me that he received f 400 for the first pair of Elliots, 

 and that his total receipts for introducing the Elliot and 

 Darwin pheasants in England amounted to $ 1,500. With 

 concerted action we can not only protect the natural 

 game in our forests and on our hills and prairies, but we 

 can add valuable accessions from time to time. To do 

 this, however, we must not only be vigilant, but in 

 earnest, as the game vandal and exterminator is hidden 

 behind many a tree and bush in Oregon. In accepting 

 thi3 artistic and magnificent testimonial, permit me, gen- 

 tlemen, to assure you that the memories which will 

 always cluster around it will make it a priceless gift to 

 me. 



At the close of Judge Denny's reply, Judge S. H. 

 Greene was called upon to express the sentiments en- 

 tertained by the club for their distinguished guest. 



He first read the following telegram received from 

 sportsmen of The Dalles: "While we are enjoying the 

 birds may the Soate appreciate Judge Denny." He then 

 addressed Judge Denny as follows: 



"I have bSfen directed by our organization, the Willa- 

 mette Rod and Gun Ciub, to express to you our particu- 

 lar appreciation as a club of your great service to the 

 sportsmen of the Northwest coast. The Mongolian 

 pheasant is now a fixture with us, although rather an 

 active fixture, and will soon, no doubt, be the acknow- 



ledged king of game birds throughout the entire country, 

 from the Pacific to the Atlantic. 



"Not long since I had the pleasure of transmitting to 

 one of the leading sporting papers of the East the sub- 

 stance of an interview had with you regarding the capa- 

 bilities of the Mongolian pheasant to withstand the rigors 

 of Eastern winters. As indicative of the interest felt by 

 Eastern sportsmen in the subject, permit me to say that 

 the communication referred to called back a perfect cloud 

 of inquiries from all over the Eastern States. That they 

 are tne gamiest of all birds no one questions. That they 

 are a hardy bird, you, the best informed on the subject, 

 seem not to doubt. Therefore, we say to the Mongolian 

 pheasant, all hail! Therefore, we say to you, Judge 

 Denny, accept our gratitude and this slight token of our 

 appreciation of your service. 



"We fully appreciate the fact that it is solely through 

 your generosity and your self-sacrifice that we are now 

 the possessors of this gorgeous blessing, the Mongolian 

 pheasant, and while we may never be able to cancel the 

 debt in full, so far as gratitude can repay you we wish 

 you to credit us with its full measure. 



" While the token just presented is but the natural 

 flower of the seed sown by yourself, blooming to-night by 

 the warmth of the gratitude of your sporting friends and 

 plucked and preserved for you by the deft hand of the 

 artist taxidermist, we wish you to feel that its roots are 

 perennial, and extend throughout the length and breadth 

 of the land, into the hearts of all true sportsmen." 



Then turning to the club he added: "Gentlemen of the 

 club, I feel that we owe a debt of gratitude to brothers 

 W. A. Storey and W. J. Riley, for their untiring efforts, 

 which have brought to us the pleasure of this occasion." 



On motion of Mr. Storey. Judges Denny and Whalley 

 were elected honorary members of the Willamette Rod 

 and Gun Club, and both gentlemen accepted in fitting 

 terms. The company then adjourned to an adjoining 

 room where an elegant collation was served and disposed 

 of amid the general jollity and good will which charac- 

 terize all such gatherings of sportsmen, and it was not 

 until the wee sma' hours anant the morn that the merry 

 crowd dispersed. W. R. & G. C. 



Portland, Oregon, May 3. 



"And what did he do when you called him a son of a gun?" 

 "Oh, he just want off."— Smith & Gray's. 



§%mt §zg mi %m\. 



"UNCLE GEORGE." 



THIS was the name he was known by far and near. 

 He was also classed as a great hunter. It was more 

 than twenty years ago that he and I took a hunt of a 

 week on the , headwaters of the South Fork of the Cone- 

 maugh. We camped in a cabin, which was used as a 

 sugar camp in the season, and many a merry hunting 

 party has enjoved the great wide chimney with its 

 hickory fire. We killed a fine buck the first day and 

 several turkeys during our hunt. The old man had a 

 famous dog, which he said would hunt anything. His 

 pedigree would not bear inspection, but he certainly 

 proved himself to be all that his master said he was. He 

 scattered the turkeys in every direction, and his owner 

 was very indignant because I said I would prefer to be 

 where the turkeys were before the dog came along. He 

 did run the deer near enough to us to get a shot, but it 

 was no doubt an accident. When the dog scattered the 

 turkeys sufficiently, in the meantime keeping up a most 

 unearthly clamor, he had to be caught. This was my 

 part of the work and was an easy task, We then waited 

 about an hour and endeavored to call them back. The 

 dog had a peculiar name — "Wasser," and be was christ- 



ened thus to keep robbers from charming him into mute- 

 ness. No dog bearing the name of Water or Fire can be 

 worked on, or, as the old hunters say, "have his mouth 

 tied shut." 



I wanted to hear some of the old hunter's tales, and on 

 the last night of our stay in the mountain he gave me a 

 short history of his life, and told me some of the exploits 

 of Lewis, the robbsr, who made his home in the moun- 

 tains, and whom he had known well in his young days. 

 "Yes," he said, "I suppose I have spent half my life in 

 this old mountain. The game is pretty well gone except 

 turkeys. There are more turkeys now than there were 

 in old times. There are still some bear and a few pan- 

 ther. The deer are scarce to what they used to be. 



"When I was a young man the mountain was alive 

 with wolves, they could have eaten up every deer in a 

 week, but they hardly ever molested them. When they 

 did take a notion to catch one it was a short job. Two 

 or three wolves would start on the track and give tongue 

 like hounds. The rest, stationed at different points, 

 would cut across and head off the deer and turn him 

 back, and in a few minutes I could hear them fighting 

 over the feast. I have lain aud listened to them gather- 

 ing their forces for a hunt. They never bothered me. 



"I never cared to go over the big crossing after night 

 on account of panthers, for they watched there for deer 

 and were liable to pounce on to anything. 



"You asked why the deer we killed came back the 

 second time after being shot at. Of course, he knew we 

 were there; but his front leg being broken, he could not 

 run down hill, and his only hope to outrun the dog was 

 to keep on top of the ridge, which brought him back 

 to us. 



The reason I went to the top of the hill to call turkeys 

 was because no one can call a turkeys down hill; and 

 when you call and get an answer that is enough, They 

 can locate the sound within a few feet and will always 

 come if you keep still. A great many hunters wonder 

 why an old gobbler will come to the brow of the hill, 

 take a look, duck his head and go off like a racehorse. 

 It is because he has heard the sound in the same place 

 two or three times, and when he looks and does not see 

 the turkey he knows there is something wrong. 



There is only one crossing on the South Fork for 

 several miles, the laurel is so thick that a dog can scarcely 



get through it, and in places it is a mile wide. The 

 bear tree that I showed you was nearly as large as it is 

 now when I was a boy. It is a water ash and many of 

 the marks are grown over. The last mark and the 

 highest of all was made last fall. I saw the marks a 

 day or two after they were made and could see the big 

 fellow's tracks in the soft mud, where he stood flat- 

 footed, made his mark and went on over the stream. I 

 think they do it to notify each other that they have gone 

 to winter quarters. This is the only tree of the kind I 

 know of. My daddy knew of one on the Quimokoning, 

 but I never saw it. 



"I used to come up here in the spring and boil sugar 

 and trap. Had plenty of company then. The boys used 

 to come up from Pittsburgh to catch trout. We would 

 roll a big rock into the fire and heat it and bake the trout 

 on it with a thin slice of bacon in each one. 



"Sam Adams used to hunt with my father. He was 

 killed by the Indians near Johstown, I knew his brother 

 John, who was with him when he was killed, They 

 were watching some cattle in a swampy place on the 

 river, when they were surprised by the Indians, John 

 was only ten years old, but knew all about the ways of 

 the savages. When he saw his brother fall, he dodged 

 into the brush like a quail and ran till he got into the 

 dense laurel that skirts the stream. He was thirty miles 

 from the settlement in Bedford county; and when night 

 came on he resolved to take the woods for it and cross 



mouutain, He knew the Indians would watch the road. 

 He was bare-headed and bare footed, and his feet were 

 bleeding. The wolves followed him howling and getting 

 more and more impudent. He dare not climb a tree for 

 fear of being kept up till morning and being discovered 

 by the red -skins. One wolf, much larger than the rest, 

 came very near him, so near that when he shook his 

 shaggy coat, wet with the dew, the boy felt it splash in 

 bis face. This one appeared to fight the rest off, and 

 showed no disposition to do harm. It was not long till 

 the rest of the pack dropped off aud left John alone with 

 the big wolf, and they journeyed on together till broad 

 day. When they reached the brow of the mountain and 

 John could see the smoke and clearings of the settle- 

 ment they separated. The wolf trotted off along the 

 ridge, stopped several times and looked back as though 

 loath to leave his companion. John lived to be very old, 

 but never harmed a wolf in all his life; and he firmly be- 

 lieved that his friend had been sent to him by some un- 

 seen power to guide him through the wilderness. He 

 could never have found the crossing without the aid 

 of the wolf, and would certainly have been eaten up but 

 for his protection. 



"There were very few Indians about here after that. The 

 last one that ever was in these parts was killed by Jim 

 Buck on Stony Creek. Jim was a hunter, and was start- 

 ing out one morning with his gun in the direction of 

 Rocky Hollow. He stopped in the alders that skirt the 

 stream to look across, hoping to see a deer. Presently 

 an Indian, tall and powerfully built and wearing the garb 

 of a chief, came to the opposite shore. He looked up and 

 down the creek, and not suspecting that any one was 

 near, laid down his gun, waded into the middle of the 

 stream, raised up a large flat stone and from beneath it 

 took up a bar of lead, cut off a chunk with his tomahawk, 

 let the lead fall and replaced the stone, aud was about to 

 turn and go back when Buck took aim and shot him 

 through the heart. He robbed him of his lead, which 

 was very precious then, pushed him into the current and 

 let him float down. When Jim went into the hollow that 

 day to hunt he heard strange sounds; and he soon gave it 

 up and went to his cabin. His conscience bothered him 

 and he told of the murder. No one has ever found the 

 lead mine. 



"It has been years since I have been in Rocky Hollow 



