280 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Oct. 8, 1891, 



CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 



OPENING BAY AT HORICON, — II. 



SATURDAY at noon, the first of the Horicon shooting 

 party left Chicago, including Mr. Percy Stone, Mr. L. 

 M. Hamlme, his guest Mr. J. Hall, and his young son, Leo 

 Hamline, also a new member, Dr. H. C. Buechner and 

 the writer. The distance, via C, M. & St. P. R. R., is 

 about 150 miles, and Horicon is reached in the early even- 

 ing, the three miles' ride cross country putting one down 

 at the "Bos" just in good time and elegant trim for the 

 sort of supper Louie Dunham, the club cook, has waiting. 

 Louie is an old Mississippi River cook and a high roller 

 in culinary matters. We found that he had ordered, 

 among other items, twelve dozen spring chickens. Be- 

 fore we had finished supper he grimly remarked that he 

 was sorry he hadn't ordered another gross. If an assess- 

 ment isn't due to square the table account at the end of 

 the season, I miss my guess, for everything goes at Hor- 

 icon. 



Now, if the reader will kindly look up the Chicago 

 Shooting Box, on the left hand side of the map as one 

 looks towatd the top, 

 he will find where 

 Percy Stone began to 

 show the writer some- 

 thing of the marsh, 

 ' ' Miescke's Channel " 

 runs clear up to the 

 boat house, and is or- 

 dinarily full of water, 

 but when Percy and I 

 started down it, it took 

 us over an hour to push 

 through the mud down 

 to the mouth of it, and 

 then we could not tell 

 where the mouth was. 

 It is xiseless to ditch on 

 the marsh proper, for 

 the bog simply melts 

 and fills a ditch with 

 soft black mud. A 

 bank for a ditch is an 

 impossibility. 



Some time before 

 noon we got our boat, 

 the best mud craft I 

 ever saw, down 

 through Miescke's bay 

 to the dam, which was 

 just then beginning to 

 set the water back a 

 little. In a common 

 boat we should never 

 have gotten there at 

 all. The boat we had 

 was one of Mr. Stone's 

 design. It is much 

 like the Point Mouille 

 boat you see on the 

 LakeEi'ie marshes, but 

 not quite so deep. It is 

 double-ended, decked 

 and coamed, flat-bot- 

 tomed with small rake, 

 only 81n. deep in the 

 middle, 4 at each end, 

 and rather beamy. It 

 is very light, and can 

 run on a heavy sj^rink- 

 ling of corn meal, 

 vrater not being at all 

 necessary, as we dis- 

 covered. This I should 

 call the typical Hori- 

 con boat, though the 

 natives use a cranky 

 double-end sharpie, 

 easy to pole in deep 

 water, but absurd for 

 mud. 



"Wait till we get 

 into Four-Mile," said 

 Percy, "and I will 

 show you more young 

 ducks than you ever 

 saw.'' So we pushed 

 on up First Channel, 

 and over waterless 

 mud flats, half way 

 across Four-Mile Pond. 

 Then w^g came upon 

 the first bed of birds. 

 I should think about 

 10,000 teal got out of 

 one bay, and these 

 started others, and our 



rapping on the boat later on started yet other thousands, 

 until Percy's prophesy Avas fully proved. I never did 

 see the like. The birds flew up and down the bank of 

 wild rice which skii-ts the edge of Four-Mile Island, and 

 flapped in and out of the cover as far as we could see or 

 hear. There was no estimating the number. They were 

 all birds bred on the marsh. For the first time in my life 

 I was upon one of the vast natural breeding grounds of 

 the North, probably to-day the greatest this side of north- 

 ern Minnesota or British Columbia. 



"The teal come out early," said Percy; "the young red- 

 heads are still in the grass to great extent, and the mal- 

 lards are not in this part of the marsh. We will go see if 

 we can find some of them now." 



With extreme labor we now worked in over a quarter 

 of a mile of mud bar, into the edge of what is known as 

 the West Bay, We left the boat, took our lives and our 

 push paddles in our hands, and plunged through the rice 

 bog up to the edge of a bit of water. Here we called 

 aloud, and in answer myriad voices arose. We thought 

 about 2,000 mallards got up in one flock. They came 

 circling over us, a sight to drive one frantic. 



"We'll get in here on opening day, if we have to drag 

 the boat over the grass," said Percy. "Right here is 

 where we two are going to shoot." 



We made it back to the club house in the early evening, 

 and by that time I had seen enough ducks, apparently, to 

 supply the inhabited world with shooting. Percy told 

 he others of the party about the low water, but thought 



the Big Lake, further north, would have more water in 

 it. Later information confirmed this supposition, and 

 the bulk of the party went in that direction on Tuesday 

 morning. 



Mr. Stone's friends, the two Hunter boys, of Chicago, 

 were to go with him, and I was also so assigned, a great 

 good fortune, for he is doubtless the hardest -worker and 

 most successful duck shooter of the club. I never met a 

 better, outside of the market-hunters. His plan was soon 

 formulated. He and I were to take a tent, and go up to 

 Four-Mile Island and pitch camp on Monday afternoon, 

 then to return to the Box, meet the rest of the shooting 

 party due there Monday evening, get the two Himter 

 boys, go back to the tent and sleep there over night, and 

 thus get the much coveted early start Tuesday morning. 

 We did go in with the tent Monday afternoon, got within 

 50yds, of the island with the boats, cut a path through 

 the wild rice with a sickle, and half carried, half dragged 

 our skiff thi-ough the thick, deep muck and water to the 

 inner edge of the rice. We found the island a thicket too 

 dense to admit a tent, but on the edge of it the ground 

 was more open. We pitched the tent on ground so soft 



NOT TILL THEN. 



"^^HEN the brush of glorious autumn 



Paints the maple lea^s with scarlet. 

 When the golden rod Is decked with glistening sprays, 



Then 'tis time to seek the woodcock 



'Mid the brier-tangled thickets 

 On the ifllsidBB* in the bright October days. 



W. TOWNSEND. 



and "trembly" that we kicked the tent pins down with 

 the toes of our rubber boots, an axe not being necessary. 

 It was the moistest looking camj) T ever helped set up. 

 As to how we were ever going to find that hole in the 

 wild rice after dark, that was still another question. 



The evening train on Monday brought up Messrs. 0. E, 

 Felton,C. B. Dicks and the two Hunter boys from Chicago 

 and Mr. R. Merrill from Milwaukee, so that the Box fairly 

 overflowed with eager shooting humanity. At the club 

 boat below the dam we had already seen Capt. Clements 

 and son of Milwaukee, Mr, L, J. Petit and several other 

 shooters. Mr. Kretchmar and son were camped on Four- 

 Mile Island above us, Mr. Boehme was over at Mayville 

 shanty with two other guns, and all in all the occupancy 

 of many of the choicer shooting points was already fore- 

 gone. The party at the Box was divided up as follows: 

 Messrs. Hamline, Hall, Dicks, Merrill and Buechner started 

 at 3 A. M. the next morning for Big Lake, where their 

 boats were taken Monday. Col, Felton and his pusher 

 went by wagon to the dam early Tuesday morning, thence 

 up First Channel to the middle bogs of Four-Mile Bay. 

 Percy Stone and Charlie Hunter started at about 8 o'clock 

 Monday evening by boat for the dam, and I was to take 

 Tommy Hunter by land along the edge of the marsh, find 

 the road that ran down to the dam, and there meet the 

 boat party, all four then taking boat for the camp on the 

 island. As it tm-ned out, oirr camping party had rather 

 more incident than its share. 



It was about that time of day which the club historian 



calls the "gloaming just preceding nightfall" when 

 Tommy Hunter and I started for the dam. It was the 

 dark of the moon, or at least there wasn't any moon visi- 

 ble, and to make matters worse, a dense white fog had 

 settled over the marsh, so thick you could hardly see a 

 dozen yards ahead of you. We declined a guide, how- 

 ever, and with the pleasing prospect of getting lost on the 

 marsh started out, after arranging in regard to the signals 

 in case we did get lost. Our scheme was to follow a line 

 fence till we got to a certain wooded point, follow the 

 edge of this till we came to the road, and then follow that 

 till we got to the dam. This looked simple enough, but 

 we soon found it diflicult. The abominable fog shut out 

 every landmark. Tommy Hunter had never been there 

 before, and I was trusting to one trip and a compass. We 

 found the timber, took the right bearing for the dam, but 

 could not find the road. Back and forth we promenaded 

 on the blufl', unable to catch the wheel marks, and afraid 

 to trust ourselves to the marsh. It is astonishing how 

 difilerent a landscape appears after dark, especially v?ith 

 a white fog accompaniment. Finally I told Tommy that 

 we might be somewhere, but I didn't believe it, and if so, 



I didn't know Avhere it 

 was. I was irritated 

 beyond measure at 

 knowing where we 

 were without being 

 able to prove it. Fin- 

 ally I left Tommy on 

 the point, and getting 

 the Milky Way on my 

 back started into the 

 marsh, and then we 

 fired three shots at 

 intervals, getting no 

 answer. The situation 

 was most puzzling. 

 We could get back to 

 the club house, but 

 could not get to the 

 dam. At length we 

 struck a cowpath, 

 which by the compass 

 had the right trend, 

 and presently we 

 found a cattle pond 

 which was familiar. 

 With Tommy for a 

 pivot here I worked 

 around in the marsh 

 till I found the wagon 

 trail. The next day I 

 learned that we had 

 crossed it on the bluff 

 a half dozen times, but 

 it was so scattered on 

 the hard blue grass sod 

 that we had missed 

 the wheel marks. 



We got to the dam 

 ahead of Percy and 

 Charlie Hunter, for 

 they had had even a 

 worse time than we. 

 They had lost their 

 lantern overboard, and 

 their boat leaking bad- 

 ly and so taking in 

 great weight, they had 

 nearly stuck on the 

 march where they 

 could not empty her. 

 With a saucer for a 

 bailing vessel they had 

 kept afloat, though 

 very wetly so, and fin- 

 ally made their way 

 down to the dam. 



It was now nearly 

 midnight, and the 

 hardest of our trip lay 

 before us. Percy and 

 I divided up the bag- 

 gage, taking a boat 

 apiece, and the two 

 brothers took a third 

 boat. Percy went 

 ahead with a lantern 

 to explore the channel, 

 and we followed single 

 file, pushing up First 

 Channel in the fog. 

 My boat was last, and 

 I shall not soon forget 

 the weird eflrect I saw 

 that night, the short 

 gleam of the lantern 

 on the white fog bank, 

 and the giant figures laboring dimly in the mist ahead. 

 It was all very grim and ghostlike. You can not stay at 

 home and see such things. 



Of our push across the flats above the channel I shall 

 say little, for it was simply awful. The picturesqueness 

 soon wore off, and it became a sheer case of hard work, 

 three feet at a time, push, push. At 1 o'clock in the 

 morning we halted at the edge of the wild rice bank 

 and consulted awhile, finally concluding that the next 

 bank must be ours. Into the next bay we dragged on, 

 and here Percy Stone found a duck roost and a muskrat 

 house which he lined up, and out of these uncertain data 

 he figured out the tiny hole in the rice where we had cut 

 our landing in to the island. This was the finest piece of 

 marsh work I ever saw done by amateur or professional. 

 The difficulties of that fog-encircled journey cannot be 

 understood till tried in similar fashion. That same morn- 

 ing old man Miescke, the best guide on the marsh, got 

 lost on dry ground going up to Big Lake, and his son 

 Emil, born on the marsh, also got clear out of his calcu- 

 lations on the lake. With no channel or current to give 

 a hint, with a curtain of bog and marsh growth all about 

 and a sea of white fog sweeping over all, the problem of 

 finding a I4in, hole in a four teen- mile rice bank fiveniiles 

 off is one which may well be thought to offer difficulties. 



It was 2 o'clock in the morning when we blundered 

 half exhausted through the mud that lay between us and 

 the tent. We threw ourselves upon our moist and tincer- 

 tain bed with a great deal of relief and a good chance for 



