Oct. 8, 1891.J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



227 



to live up to it. There was game enough in camp to last 

 for several days; so a bear hunt was proposed. A study 

 of the topographical map of Utah will show the fifty 

 miles between Panguitch Lake and the Cedar and Ka- 

 narra settlements to be an tminhabited mountainous 

 region. The ;,Pah Vaut range, that extends northward 

 for 150 miles between the Sevier Valley and the western 

 desert, here joins the main chain of theWatsatch, extend- 

 ing in an east and west direction, and the result is a chaotic 

 mass of spurs and peaks. Here is the abode of big game 

 — grizzUes, mountain lions, wildcats and deer. The 

 grizzly is the king in the eyes of the hunter. As a proof 

 of valor, daring and coolness, its hide is worth a dozen 

 pelts of the mountain lion or a hundred big buck skins. 

 To the average sportsman the killing of a grizzly places 

 the lucky man on the top of the ladder and makes him 

 an equal with the slayer of the bighorn. Ben's nerve 

 and experience qualiiied him for the post of leader of the 

 expedition and he was chosen captain without a dissent- 

 ing voice. 



Daylight found the camp deserted. At sunrise the 

 hunters were four miles away up among the higher 

 canons and wiUow-fringed marshes where big bear were 

 wont to resort after their morning meal. If the day 

 should prove clear and hot we were on the right track, 

 but if cool our climb had been for naught. Fortune 

 favored us — the fickle dame is said to favor the brave — 

 and not a cloud veiled old Sol's face. Deer sign were 

 abundant, but they could not swerve the quartette from 

 the path of duty. The canon narrowed. The scant 10ft. 

 between the little creek and narrow walls was choked 

 with underbrush and we could see but 3 or 4yds. ahead. 

 Suddenly we came to a halt. Every man's breath stopped 

 for an instant and our hearts thumped like trip-hammers. 

 We had run fair and square into the mouth of a cave 

 that the briers had concealed, and any lurking bear or 

 lion would have had the whole outfit at his mercy. Ben 

 was the first to get his head. Holding his cocked rifle 

 before him, he marched boldly into the den and the rest 

 followed. The cave was deserted, but it had been so for 

 only a few hours, it was bruin's lair, and he had a well- 

 worn trail from it to the upper part of the cailon. His 

 track was hardly cold, and we were liable to run across 

 him at any moment. Thanks to Ephraim's weight 

 and magnitude our way was now comparatively clear. 

 Slowness and extreme caution were necessary if we ex- 

 pected to make the sm-prise party a complete success. 

 Already we had passed wallows that he had made within 

 a week, and everything indicated that the moment of en- 

 gagement was at hand. A swallow of coffee from the 

 canteen and every eye and ear were on the alert. It was 

 now 10 o'clock. The sun was beating down furiously 

 and we were sulfused as to our clothing with perspira- 

 tion. 



Stop! Twenty yards ahead there is a crashing of wil- 

 lows and aspens and a grayish-brown mass, seemingly as 

 large as a Norman horse, is indistinctly seen through the 

 underbrush. Ben gets in the first shot and the f usilade 

 opens. Bruin may be wounded, but he is not crippled. 

 He wheels and charges toward his assailants. Four shots 

 more and he falls, but only for a second. It is too warm 

 for comfort, and we make a grand break for cover, trees, 

 rocks, anything, at a "get there, Eli," pace. We scorn 

 any imputation of cowardice, but circumstances alter 

 cases, and none of us cared to be a shuttlecock for an 

 angry grizzly's paw. Dan made for the open hillside. 

 He is almost out of the thicket when a hop vine trips 

 him. Up again, but the bear is close by and his gun is 

 gone, and now commences the dodging race for life. We 

 are trembling so from exertion and excitement that we 

 can hardly land a true shot, and often the rifle is raised 

 and lowered for fear of hitting the man who is in line 

 with the crazy brute, 



"Shoot, boys! Shoot for God's sake! Don't mind me. 

 I ean't keep this up much longer." 



Shot after shot rings out. Bruin falls, rises, struggles 

 feebly toward the fleeing man, then falls to rise no more. 

 We do not stop to ask who made the lucky shot, for be- 

 yond him, unconscious on the ground, lies Dan. We fear 

 that he has been struck by a misdirected bullet, but when 

 we reach the spot we rejoice to find that he has only 

 fallen in a dead faint, from which he soon recovered, full 

 of spirits as ever, but weak and trembling like a leaf. 



And now we turn our attention to the conquered. 

 Skinning Ephraim, we find that any one of eight wounds 

 would have proved fatal, and besides there were five or 

 six flesh wounds. The hide is slung upon a pole, and Ben, 

 Jack and Shoshone take turns, two and two, in bearing 

 the spoils back to camp, which was reached about 5 

 o'clock. The hide was voted to Dan as a memento of his 

 close call, and we envied him the soft, warm rug that we 

 knew would lie before his fireplace in the little log cabin 

 on the Sevier. 



Thursday was devoted to business by Ben and Jack. 

 They started early in the day to hunt yeUow pine timber 

 for their mill on the creek. Dan was' still rather shaky 

 on his puis and remained in camp. Shoshone went on a 

 tour of exploration about the lake. He had walked about 

 a mile when his nostrils were offended by an odor that 

 was never wafted from Araby the blest. It was a com- 

 bination of slaughter-house and dirty sage brush fire. It 

 betokened the presence of Indians, but before he could 

 reach the encampment he heard a familiar voice calling 

 his uncomplimentary Ute name— "Senab yodes" (devil 

 wolf). Coal Creek John, erstwhile the terror of southern 

 Utah, was the speaker and Shoshone was invited to par- 

 ticipate in the dance and feast that was in process of prep- 

 aration. But, after noting the dozen deer skins that 

 were stretched out to dry and getting some "pointers" as 

 to the best localities for venison, he excused himself on 

 the plea of a prior engagement. The fisher's cabin was 

 next visited and the men who make their living from the 

 lake were found in a state of excitement and curiosity. 



A few days before a sti-anger from Salt Lake had come 

 among them and contracted for all the fish that they 

 could catch. G-enerally, as the trout will not bear the 

 shipment in warm weather, the fishing season does not 

 fairly open until November, but this stranger had a mys- 

 terious powder, which he called "our new secret prepara- 

 tion," that he guaranteed to preserve the fish fresh and 

 sweet for weeks. The powder came in half-pound 

 packages, from which he was careful to tear the label. It 

 was soluble in water and in the solution the fish were 

 soaked. Evidently it was a salycilate, probably that of 

 soda, and it may have been the identical game preserva- 

 tive that has been advertised in the columns of Poeesx 

 AND Stream. At all events it was a mascotte for the 



fishermen and they ofi'ered fabulous prices for the for- 

 mula or for tlie address of the manufacturer. 



The professional fisherman's life in winter is a hard 

 and dreary one. At 4 o'clock in the morning his alarm 

 clock calls him and he gets breakfast and does the cook- 

 ing for the day. Then he gets out on the ice (tempera- 

 ture seldom above zero) and chops as many holes as he 

 can before dawn. All day long he has to watch these 

 holes to keep them from freezing over. Into each hole 

 he drops his hook baited with wood grub. The line is 

 attached to a willow. Just at the peep of day the fish 

 commence to bite and the poles commence to bob so 

 that a man has to keep on the run if he would attend to 

 business. When the sun is; about an hour high the hun- 

 ger of the fish is partially appeased. The fisher gets a 

 bite every five minutes, every fifteen Iminutes and in the 

 middle of the day, only a bite an hour on an average. 

 Still holes and poles must be watched and he has no time 

 for rest. At 4 o'clock biting begins again, at dark it is 

 fast and furious. Then great iron kettles, filled with fat 

 pine, are brought out on the lake, and soon the light of 

 forty fires illuminates the scene. About 7 o'clock the 

 trout are satisfied. Then the men go back to their 

 cabins and get supper, after which they spend thi-ee or 

 four hours in cleaning and packing the day's catch. It 

 is nearly midnight before they can go to bed. On snowy 

 days, when the ice has to be kept clean, their labor is 

 nearly doubled. Altogether their lot is not an enviable 

 one. From $80 to §120 for the winter's work hardly pays 

 for the loneliness, discomforts and exposure. 



By 6 o'clock all hands were back in camp and the pro- 

 gramme for the following day was arranged. It was to 

 be the last in camp and all that we could catch or shoot 

 was to be taken home for family use. Ben was to go for 

 deer, Dan and Jack were to fish, and Shoshone was to 

 attend to the feathered bipeds. What success attended 

 the efforts of three of the party and what sport they had 

 can be judged only by the results. Shoshone started out 

 on Friday morning intent upon the slaughter of ducks. 

 He was his own pilot and oarsman, and this may account 

 for the fact that he had absolutely no luck, getting only 

 one little teal, and that rather by chance than skill. The 

 birds refused obstinately either to be driven into an inlet 

 or to swim within range. Then he rowed down to the 

 lower end of the lake, tied the boat to the willows and 

 went down into the meadows after grouse. At this time 

 of day the birds were not to he found in the stubble and 

 rowen, but resting on the ground under the willows that 

 cover the creek bottom. They are not easily flushed and 

 their flights are short so that a mere tyro can secure a 

 big bag with little or no trouble. One flock of eight 

 birds was beneath a willow upon which sat a small hawk, 

 about as large as a sparrow hawk, but, more likely, a 

 young sharpshin. Every time the chickens flew the 

 hawk accompanied them. He would not stir from his 

 perch until they ai'ose, and he always lit within 5yds. of 

 them. He was too small to have been hunting prey, and 

 his strange freak saved both his own life and that of the 

 brood with which he had associated himself. But those 

 birds were never missed. An hour's walking gave Sho- 

 shone twenty-two young grouse, which was as mucli as 

 he cared to pack, and he rowed back to camp, dressed 

 his game, ate a light lunch, and joined Jack and Dan on 

 the lake, a peeled willow taking the place of a split-bam- 

 boo. It was a difficult matter to cast flies with such a 

 pole, and it was a more diflacult matter to play the fish 

 when they were hooked, but a fair degree of success 

 attended his efforts. After an hour's fishing we saw Ben 

 walking back to the tent, leading the mules that he 

 had taken in the morning. We were soon at the shore 

 and lugging up SOlbs. of fish, weighing from 1 to 31bs. 

 each, as the result of the trio's labor, we found two deer, 

 dressed and hanging beneath our bower. That evening 

 as we were cleaning our fish Ben remarked : ° 



"Well, I guess this '11 hev to do me until my fall himt." 



"Wliere you goin'?" 



"Where I always go. Over on to the East Fork Moun- 

 tains, and may be ez fur ez th' Escalante Desert." 

 "Guess I'll go 'long." 

 "Me, too." 

 "And L" 



So, Providence and the weather permitting and noth- 

 ing interfering, the November grand hunt is in store for 

 the quartette, and the buckskins of the East Fork will 

 please note this fact and make due prepai-ation for our 

 reception, 



Saturday morning broke, but no sun was visible. The 

 clouds hung low on the lake and hid the opposite hills. 

 There was a disagreeably tangible humidity of the atmos- 

 phere that almost dampened om' spirits as we gathered 

 about the coffee-pot and frying-pan. The mental gloom 

 increased as we went out to loosen the guy ropes. 



Bang! whiz! somewhere, not many feet above out- 

 heads, the bullet from a navy revolver cut the fog. We 

 looked for the offender, and in a very few moments he 

 hove in sight— a drunken cowboy who had just come up 

 from the settlement, and who, had it not been for that 

 bottle of Panguitch tangle-foot, would have reached his 

 own mountain camp on the previous evening. He was 

 too much under the influence of liquor to listen to reason, 

 and after putting a couple of bullets into the sacked 

 venison he then dismounted and made a target of the guy- 

 ropes. When Dan proposed to use force, he turned around 

 and punctured his hat in a manner that would have done 

 credit to any border tough. This settled it. No one wants 

 to be a mark for a drunken man's unsteady aim. The gun 

 was emptied, and before he could reload it Jack had 

 grabbed him from behind and thrown him to the ground. 

 We then rushed in, tied the culprit, now beside himself 

 with rage, hand and foot, confiscated the gun, which 

 Dan stuck in his own belt, teUing Mr. Cowboy to call and 

 get it when he eame to town. The whisky bottle was 

 tossed into the lake, and we proceeded to pack and load 

 as though nothing had interrupted us. In an hour the 

 mules were harnessed and we were ready to start. Ben 

 then untied the cowboy's hands, leaving him to unfasten 

 his legs at his own leisure. 



"Young man," said Jack, ''you're a leetle too fresh. You 

 never want to git so drunk ez to f orgit that four of a kind 

 will always beat a full hand." 



Followed by his imprecations as long as we could hear, 

 we drove away. The clouds thickened, and upon the sur- 

 face of the lake big raindrops were splashing. But below, 

 upon the far-away settlement, the sun was shining, and 

 with light hearts we went homeward out of darkness 

 into light. Shoshone. 



PANatrracR Lake, Utah, Sept. 10. 



HOW TO COLLECT BIRDS. 



(Co7itinued from last loeeh.) 

 pOISONING THE SKIN.-The skinning and cleaning 

 J~ of the specimen having been completed, the next 

 thing is to apply the preservative. For this, as has 

 already been stated, only arsenic or a mixture of arsenic 

 and powdered alum should be used. This may be applied 

 either dry or as a paste, by mixing vdth alcohol or water 

 (alcohol being preferable). If the dry powder is used, it ■ 

 should be kept in a shallow box large enough to hold a 

 medium-sized bird, ajid while the skin is in every part 

 turned "wrong side out," it should be laid upon the 

 arsenic and the latter applied thickly to every part, care 

 being taken to put plenty of the poison about the head, 

 particularly close up to the base of the bill, about the 

 lower end of the denuded wing and leg bones and about 

 the base of the tail. This is best done with the foot of a 

 rabbit (or better still, that of the northern species, which 

 has longer hah- on the soles); but if one cannot be had, a 

 substitute may be made by securely tying a wad of cot- 

 ton to the end of the stick. After the skin is covered 

 with the arsenic (which should be applied while its inner 

 sm-f ace is moist), ^ it should be held over the box and 

 gently tapped to loosen the superfluous powder. 



Should the alcoholic paste be preferred, it may be ap- 

 plied with a bristle brush, or better still with a wad of 

 cotton tied to the end of a small stick, the advantage in 

 the latter being that it can be thrown away when a day's 

 work is done and a new one quickly made when another 

 is required. 



Cleaning soiled or greasy specimens,— While blood- 

 stained specimens are supposed to have been partially 

 cleaned immediately after ' they were shot, as directed, 

 further cleaning is necessary before the bird can 

 be considered a good and finished specimen. The final 

 cleaning should be done when the bird is entirely 

 skinned, but before the preseiwative is applied. Bloody 

 specimens should never be washed before they are 

 skinned, as the application of water only serves to draw 

 out more blood through the shot holes. 



After the bird has been skinned, however, and the 

 inner surface of the skin thoroughly freed from blood by 

 sponging or wiping, then the feathers may be washed 

 clean, using a soft sponge and warm water, and dried 

 with corn meal or some other clean absorbent substance, 

 care being taken not to allow any of these substances, 

 especially plaster of Paris, to dry on the feathers, each 

 application being thoroughly removed as soon as it be- 

 comes saturated with the moisttire. Repeated applica- 

 tions and much patience are required to clean a specimen 

 thoroughly, but the result is well worth all the trouble 

 and loss of time, unless the specimen is one of no value. 



Corn meal is probably the best of all substances for 

 drying moistened feathers, but cannot always be ob- 

 tained. In its absence, clean dry sand, whiting or plaster 

 of Paris may be used, although the two last named should 

 not be used on birds of dark plumage, since it is next to 

 impossible to remove it all from the feathers, which ever 

 after have a dusty or powdered appearance. On birds of 

 white or very light-colored plumage, however, plaster of 

 Pai-is is better than anything else; but even on these as 

 much as possible should be removed by persisting whip- 

 ping and blowing of the feathers. 



Dr^y blood stains sliould not be washed, but should first 

 be pried or chipped off with the finger nail, or back of a 

 knife, and then carefully scraped and manipulated with, 

 a stiff brush, such as a jeweler's brush or a tooth brush. 



Fat birds are very difficult to clean, but the removal of 

 every particle of fat is very important, since, in addition 

 to the certainty of the fat which is allowed to remain on 

 the skin gradually working out through the shot holes 

 and other openings and greasing the feathers, the combi- 

 nation of the fat with the araenic pi'oduces a chemical 

 compound which is very injurious to the skin, rendering 

 it "rotten," or brittle. 



A bountiftil application of corn meal, plaster, etc., dtur- 

 ing the process of skinning is a great help toward remov- 

 ing the grease, and in the case of large birds a piece of 

 calico or cotton cloth sewed to the skin along each edge 

 of the incision will serve to keep the feathers from con- 

 tact with the fat, though even then an absorbent sub- 

 stance should be freely used. 



Ducks and some other water birds when fat are par- 

 ticularly difficult to clean, owing to the fact that the roots 

 of the feathers form numerous prominent points all over 

 the inner surface of the skin, the spaces between them 

 being filled with fat. In such cases the surface of the 

 fatty coating should be slightly gashed with the knife or 

 scalpel to release the oUy substance, which should then 

 be gradually absorbed by a persistent application and 

 "rubbing in" of the absorbent substance. Of course all 

 free pieces of fat should be first cut away. 



Should the feathers have become greasy they should, 

 after the bird has been skinned and the inside of the skin 

 itself cleaned, as above directed, be washed with spirits 

 of turpentine, and the latter removed by absorption with 

 corn meal, whiting or plaster, repeatedly applied and 

 removed, the absorbent substance, when sattu-ated with 

 the tm-pentine, being first shaken off and the feathers 

 then carefully whipped with a light elastic stick, until 

 no more remains. This process is tedious, but the ex- 

 cellent results amply repay for the time and trouble 

 expended. 



The cleansing of water birds, especially sea birds, re- 

 quiring special treatment, the following directions (pre- 

 pared at om- request by Mr. Wm. Palmer) should be 

 closely observed: 



As prevention is better than cure, time employed in 

 taking proper care of sea birds when first killed is well 

 used; but it seldom happens that one is able to do this, 

 and therefore it becomes necessary to spend more time in 

 cleaning specimens than is desirable. When freshly 

 killed, if a sea bird is immediately hung up by the legs 

 for several hours, much vexatious work is spared the 

 collector, but if one is on a lonely shore, with miles to 

 travel, this is impossible. A box, open on top, but with 

 movable slats on which to suspend the birds, is perhaps 

 the best plan to adopt in a boat or on shore where several 

 hours are spent. When tramping specimens may be 



1 If the skin has become dry it may be moistened by gently 

 touching the surface with a wet sponge; but If the paste is used 

 this IS of course unnecessary. 



