204 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept. 8, 1893. 



ON SAN PABLO SLOUGHS, 



"Jerusalem! What was that? Oh, yes. The alarm 

 clock, boys, 3:30 A, M., and time to be up. Tumble out, 

 all of you," and one o'f us, perhaps more keen for the 

 hunt than the rest, arises, hastily lights the lamp and 

 begins the prepar »tion of breakfast. 



There are six of us. We hare an ark or house boat 

 moored in one of the many sloughs leading from San 

 Pablo Bay. Once a week in duck season we enthusiasts 

 betake ourselves to the marshes in pursuit of game, and 

 incidentally health and pleasiu'e. 



While breakfast is being prepared all but the self- 

 appointed cook are busy getting into their hunting toga 

 '—canvas coats, rubber boots, overalls, corduroy caps, 

 etc., from the most aristocratic part of the wardrobe. 

 But when these things are supplemented with old clothes 

 fit for the ragman, such as mud-stained trousers full of 

 rents and innocent of buttons, vests without backs to 

 them, and coats the original color of which is difficult to 

 determine, our appearance is more easily imagined than 

 described. 



Ham and eggs, bread and butter and coffee, are hastily 

 stowed under our various jackets, and then begins the 

 general confusion incident to everybody collecting his 

 gun, ammunition, decoys and canteen, and various other 

 articles at the same time. 



Finally all things are found, and as there are only three 

 boats we pair off. When this part of the programme is 

 decided comes the stowing of the boats. Decoys, blinds, 

 ammunition, dogs, etc., are stowed away as neatly as 

 possible, and then, as the morning is frosty, there is a 

 good-natured contest for the oars. We have a long and 

 hard row bef jre us, and it is safe to assume that the oars- 

 man will be in a healthy glow ere he reaches his destina- 

 tion, "Are all the other boats ready?" "Yes." Wee in 

 hardly see the dim outline through the cold morning 

 mist that has settled over the marsh. At last the remain- 

 ing boats get away, and then begins the long journey to 

 the points or ponds. 



How still and dark it sema after we quit the ark and 

 turn the skiff's bow into the main slough. We hug the 

 shore so as to avoid the strength of the tide; and as we 

 silently row along note the wild, weird music of the 

 marsh. Here, as we pass a small gully, comes a faint, 

 gurgling sob, as the receding tide pours through the 

 labyrinth of small openings in the mud. Ov^er there on 

 the left, and ahead of us, we hear the shrill whistle of 

 the widgeon; and now the loud splashing of the water 

 and the sound of a hundred beating wings tells us that a 

 flock of the beauties have spent the night in that shel- 

 tered bend we are now passing, and at this moment they 

 are on their swift flight to the open shallow waters of the 

 bay. We are just struggling with the oars past a jutting 

 point, when overhead we hear the rapid but measured 

 beat of a pair of sprigs. This stimulates us to greater 

 exertions, as the birds have begun to fly and we shotild be 

 at our stations. 



X decides to shoot at a point and I shall try a pond to- 

 day, for I have an idea that when the sun arises the wind 

 will blow and consequently the ducks will seek the 

 smooth water of a pond in preference to the compara- 

 tively rough water of the sloughs. 



Now we come to the point where X disembarks, and 

 after helping him set out his decoys in an irresistible tri- 

 angle, I continue alone toward my favorite pond. I have 

 rowed but a quarter of a mile when — bang! bang! goes 

 his hammerless Parker, and as I am sure he has already 

 begun to fill his duck-strap, my oars bend a little more 

 and the hissing ripple at the bow of the skiff" shows that 

 she is carrying me to my destination as fast as I can go. 

 Ah! Here I am, in a little slough, scarcely wider than 

 the boat, and filled almost to choking with the long marsh 

 tule. I force and push the narrow skiff through these, 

 and after carefully hiding it amid the long grass I take 

 my gun and other impedimenta and after five minutes' 

 tramp through the wet grass arrive at my pet pond. I 

 scare from it a large flock of teal but refrain from shoot- 

 ing until I have prepared the blind. This is made of 

 woven tule grass and is 6ft. long by 3^ft. high. It is fur- 

 nished with five or six sharpened sticks for holding it in 

 an upright position when in use. I make my blind in a 

 clump of reeds and arrange it in a semicircle with the 

 growing rushes at my back. This makes a perfect 

 hiding place and is alike secure from the eyes of wild- 

 fowl and wildfowler if care has been taken to have its 

 color and form harmonize with its surroxindings. The 

 decoys I throw out in a little bunch where I know the 

 water is shallow. I then ensconce myself in my blind 

 and wait for my first shot. 



I have not long to wait, Just as the mist toward the 

 east is taking on a paler hue I hear a rushing through 

 the air of wings, and immediately after the splash, splash, 

 of two heavy birds as they drop into the further end of 

 the pond. I must confess that my pulse quickens, that I 

 grip my good old gun a little tighter as I strain my eyes 

 to catch a glimpse of the birds. At last I discover two 

 dark blotches leisurely swimming to my decoys. They 

 are out of killing range, and it seems a very long time 

 before they are near enough to fire at. I will admit that, 

 unlike some mighty nimrods, I did not scare them up so 

 as to gee a wing shot with each barrel. No, I took a cool, 

 deliberate and murderous aim, and when their forms got 

 close together I fired and had the satisfaction of seeing 

 one turn on its back, dead, and the other, after a few con- 

 vulsive kicks, lie still. As the day got lighter I saw that 

 two mallards, male and female, were the unfortunate 

 pair. Then the fun began in earnest. There was a ter- 

 rific beating of the air overhead and at my back, A 

 large flock was coming toward me. I crouched in my 

 blind. They are directly overhead and not loyds. high. 

 1 look cautiously upward Just in time to see the leading 

 birds. Before tbey can get away I am up and on my 

 feet. They bunch together and climb. Both barrels 

 Bj)eak, One, two, three, four, five. Three come down 

 stone dead. Two are wounded, severely and will drop in 

 the pond. As the flock passes away I see one linger be- 

 hind, waver and turning in the fall dead to earth. I slip 

 two cartridges in the gun, and after dispatching the 

 cripples go after the last bird to fall. I have already 

 mareed it and am fortunate to find it not ten steps from 

 where I thought it fell. The six birds were all sprigs- 

 four males and two females. 



Now, from the l^ft, flying like an aiTow of light, comes 

 a single bird. He does not, or will not, notice my 

 decoys. He scuds along with the wind. He has prob- 

 ably been shot at and has not recovered from the scare. 



Up goes my gun; I fire, but miss. 1 knew as soon as I 

 pulled the trigger that the bird was safe, it was a bad 

 miss and the first one of the day. But it was a single 

 butterball and a difficult shot, I hope for better luck 

 next time as a teal is just about to light in the decoys; I 

 let go the left barrel, as the bird is far away, and have 

 the satisfaction of seeing the shot tell. 



Flocks and singles then pass. Some hover over the 

 decoys and get raked from stem to stern. Some are so 

 far away that the stinging shot accelerates their speed. 

 Some light in the pond and never rise again. 



1 have had splendid luck and, as the flight is nearly 

 over, think of returning to my friend. iNow comes the 

 delightful pastime of collecting decoys from a bottomless 

 Ijond, for the ooze in my pet pond will not sustain any- 

 one. I know this to be a fact and have already suffi- 

 cientlv demonstrated it. I finally embark again and 

 join X. He has been more successful than I. He 

 exhibits nine canvasbacks, eight widgeon, three teal 

 and a dozen or more sprig and spoonbills. My bag was 

 the lighter, but the enjoyment I felt was eqiially as keen 

 as his. 



We arrive at the ark and find a splendid dinner await- 

 ing us. The other boys have been successful in various 

 degrees. One has fourteen English snipe and three brant. 

 He has been in a marshy field, a place undergoing the 

 process of reclamation and full of pools of rain water. 



Our dinner being dispatched we get into oui* city rigs, 

 and taking the train for San Francisco arrive there at 

 dusk. Tired and sleepy, we at last get home. But are 

 we not repaid a thousand fold for the fatigue incurred, 

 as we look back with pleasure to that splendid right and 

 Ipft we made, to the spoonbill killed dead in the air at 

 TOyds. with our 13-bore, and indeed to the rank miss we 

 made at Mr. Butterball. 



How we dislike to see the gorgeous feathers of the 

 mallard drake ruthlessly plucked out by the vandal hand 

 of the hired girl, the plumage that we stroked so smooth 

 when the bird fell to our gun. But he who wants roast 

 duck must overlook a trifle like that. 



We hope to have just such a day again and again. We 

 may also be as successful next time; but whether we get 

 as many birds or not, if we can only again experience 

 that keen excitement born of the lore of the chase we 

 will repeat again that life is worth living, and that he 

 who sees naught but foolishness or lust of blood-letting 

 in the shooting of wild fowl is one of the most abjectly 

 miserable and pitiable specimens of mankind on the earth. 



San Francisco. Johnny SprIG. 



AN ADIRONDACK TABLE-LAND. 



Sometimes I get hold of a copy of your paper — may 

 be it is in winter, and again it may be a summer numbpr, 

 but it is always filled with articles interesting to me. The 

 fisherman, dog fancier, dog trainer, sportsman, traveler, 

 trap or wild-bird shooter, or canoeist, each and all can 

 find their especial hobby handled by one of their own 

 mind. Now you who go a thousand miles to gratify your 

 desires, let me tell you where I live and all about it, and 

 see if you don't envy me a little. We are on a table-land 

 in the Adirondack Mojintains, that slopes northward 

 toward the St. Lawrence River on the north and eastward 

 to Lake Champlain, while peak after peak rises to the 

 south and west of us until the blue sky only is seen. On 

 clear mornings can be seen the beautiful Lake Champlain, 

 dotted with islands, and over and beyond it the Oreen 

 Mountains of Vermont, while to the north a white strip is 

 the ever flowing St, Lawrence Eiver and the glittering 

 spires of Montreal, seventy miles away. When the wind 

 is blowing right, to the northeast of usl^can be heard the 

 shrill whistle from the busy locomotives of the Ogdens- 

 burg and Lake Champlain E ailroad, and a streak of smoke 

 indicates its route as far as Summit, when it passes over 

 the divide and goes down hill to Ogdensburg and "all 

 points west." To the southwest of us comes the same 

 signal from the Chateaugay R, R. 



The summer has nearly gone. Haying is late, and the 

 other day while I was roaming near the wilderness that 

 reaches south half way to your city several flocks of 

 partridges sprung out of the grass and under the call of 

 their mother hid in the thick woods. Dr. Morris's article 

 struck me j ust right. What royal sport it is to bring 

 them to bag! In the edge of the pasture timid deer come 

 to lick the salt with the cows undisturbed. Let them 

 live. To Mr. Pond we will say that out of season, at the 

 hotels up further in the woods, "Adirondack mutton" is 

 venison killed out of season. Here is a huckleberry rock, 

 the bushes now loaded with berries; and there a roaring 

 stream tumbles along from 'way up in the woods, and 

 many a trout has been lured to his doom between here 

 and the lake, four miles away. The old rotten stumps 

 show that bruin has been hunting for a sour morsel that 

 hides in them — pismires. 



Speaking of bears, my friend Mike had a "scrap" with 

 one last winter. He was out looking for them when his 

 dog discovered a den with two in it. The dog drove 

 them out, and one, a cub, ran away, while the old one 

 made for Mike. Mike gave her his one load right in the 

 head and put out one eye, but it made no difference with 

 her. She kept advancing and Mike retreating. Finally 

 he saw a handspike or lever used in rolling logs (for the 

 scene of the struggle was where lumbering had been 

 carried on the winter before), dropped his gun and picked 

 up the lever. With that he proceeded to pound bruin 

 over the head. He broke her front leg and finally caused 

 her to back up. She kept backing till she fell off the 

 ledge down about lOft. Mike's dog juraped down on her 

 and kept her engaged until he reloaded his gun, when he 

 finished her. Mike said he was not afraid, but he has 

 not been out alone since, and not then with a one-barreled 

 gun, 



\Vhen the frost drives the leaves to earth the partridges 

 will be out in the clearings or on the edge of the woods. 

 My experience is that in a country where foxes are as 

 plentiful as tbey are here, partridges seek the depths of 

 the deep woods, and only come out when the leaves are 

 falling in the autumn. I have seen them at such seasons 

 where they are never found at other times. 



Now, my friends, what do you think of it ? Deer, bear, 

 foxes, wild strawberries, trout, huckleberries, partridges, 

 wild ducks and hard work, if any of you want a gallon 

 or two of pure bear's oil to grease your fine guns, Mike 

 has it and he lives only four miles from me. 



Adirondack. 



The Book ow the Game IjAws has all fl.sh and game laws 

 of the TJnited States mid Canada. Price 5(i cents. 



CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 



[From a Staff Cmrespondent.^ 



CHICAC40, 111,, Sept. 3,— At this date nothing appears to 

 contradict the earlier belief that shooting on prairie 

 chickens and also at wildfowl in the Dakotas and Minne- 

 sota will be unusually good this fall. News begins to 

 come in from parties who have been out, and thus far re- 

 sults have been good. The bulk of the news comes frorn 

 North Dakota and northern Minnesota, and while South 

 Dakota and lower Minnesota may be very good, I am 

 sending most of my inquirers further north, where assur 

 ance is doubly sure. 



Yesterday I telegraphed Mr. B, Waters, of Forest ani> 

 Stream, now judging the field trials at Morris, Manitoba, 

 inquiring as to the chicken supply in the sections adjacent 

 to Morris, which latter jjoint is not far above the Minne- 

 sota line. To-day I received reply, "Chickens very 

 abundant in Dakota near the boundary line." This con- 

 firms to the point of absolute safety the advice given last 

 week to go up along the Great Northern road almost to 

 the boundary line. 



Mr. C. H. Warring, of Amsterdam, N. Y,, arrived in 

 Chicago this week, bound west on a chicken hunt. He 

 was headed for Clarion, in Wright county, Iowa, but 

 after some talk over the situation he concluded to go 

 directly up to Morris, Manitoba, have a look at the trials, 

 buy a good chicken dog there if he could, and then start 

 in with his hunt this side of the line, either in Dakota or 

 Minnesota, He left here cheerfully last Thursday, with 

 some Eddie Bingham hand-loaded shells and a lovely p'iir 

 of long striped socks, which he discovered over at Mont- 

 gomery Ward & Co.'s. Mr. Warring has never seen a 

 prairie chicken, but this does not give the bird any the 

 advantage of him, for no prairie chicken has ever seen 

 him. He has a very pleasant experience ahead of him. 

 and, as he does not intend to return until October, his trip 

 should be one of great interest in many ways, the more so 

 as he should meet good duck shooting' also. 



Mr. Ray Tompkins, of Elmira, N Y., writes inquiring 

 if my game pocket man has moved away, "I was going 

 up to see him," says Mr. Tompkins, "but if he has moved 

 1 will go where I was last year — Dakota, N. D. If you 

 can write me whether or not he has gone, I will make 

 arrangements immediately." 



The game pocket man did not take the game with him. 

 At Dakota, however, shooting can be found, though prob- 

 ably long rides will be necessary. Lakota is one of the 

 points mentioned earlier in these columns as desirable. 



Mr. W. Wilmot, of Chicago, is back from a very suc- 

 oe^sful chicken and eharptail hunt near Larimore, N. D, 

 He bagged nearly 300 birds, and reports ducks also in 

 considerable numbers in the sloughs and pond holes. He 

 found his shooting by going out from five to twenty-five 

 miles from Larimore. He speaks very highly of the 

 sport. Ijarimore, it will be remembered, was mentioned 

 some weeks ago as a good place to go for chickens. 



Messrs. Reuben Donnelly and Wallace De Wolf, of this 

 city, start this evening for Lake Park, Minnesota, on the 

 N. P. R R., for a two weeks' trip after chickens, snipe 

 and ducks. Last year they had very fair luck here, and 

 this year should do better. If the ground does not suit 

 them they will go up into the extreme northern part of 

 the State. Mr. Alex Loyd, who was of this party last 

 year and for years before, will not be with them this year, 



Mr. Donnelly to-day was telling me of the dog he is 

 taking with him on his shooting trip, "She is a tough 

 creature," said he incidentally, "and has lots of nerve. 1 

 ran the wagon over her by accident not long ago, and 

 she never whimpered." 



This is in unconecious verification of my statement of 

 last week, that a good chicken dog ought not to mind 

 being run over with a wagon. I do not doubt that Mr. 

 Donnelly has a good dog, and I am glad that he comes 

 unasked to the support of my assertion. After that, I 

 can read with perfect equanimity the following com- 

 ment on this same point, which I have received to-day 

 from Mr. O. H. Hampton, a well known contributor to 

 Forest a no Stream. Mr. Hampton says: 



"About those chicken dogs of yours that enjoyed being 

 run over with the wagon ; don't you think it j ust possible 

 that people who don't know much about dogs of those 

 old days might doubt your statements? There are people 

 in the world who have never seen a dog run over by a 

 wagon. I don't doubt your statements in the least, for 

 I had one of the dogs of that kind once. He didn't get 

 run over by the wagon, but one December day he went 

 out on the'ice on the 'inlet' after a duck, and just after 

 he got the duck the ice broke and the current carried 

 him under and swept him down under the solid ice that 

 covered the lake. Next April that ice broke during a 

 strong gale, I happened to be on the bank watching for 

 a shot at golden-eyes, when I saw something that sur- 

 prised me. That same dog came swimming to me. I 

 was not surprised at that, but I was surprised to see 

 that he still had that duck in his mouth. After wit- 

 nessing the above incident I can, of course, readily believe 

 all you say about it not hurting dogs to be run over, but 

 you ought to remember that everybody has not had 

 opi^ortunities to witness such things, and besides that 

 you ought to remember that your reputation for un- 

 doubted veracity is not so well established in the minds 

 of all people as it is in my own. Mind now, I'm not 

 going to doubt any statement you may ever make about 

 dogs, for I know 'em. I had a dog once that pointed a 

 door plate for an hour, and when I went to see what was 

 the matter with the dog I found that the name on the 

 door plate was 'Partridge,' Fee?" 



I am not going to doubt Mr. Hampton's story about his 

 dog pointing the door plate, for I have heard of another 

 man or two who owned the same dog — sort of a chestnut- 

 colored dog, it was. As to keeping either a duck or a 

 dog on ice all winter, I cannot see anything remarkable 

 in that at all, although I will say that one of these modern 

 dogs would pi'obably have taken cold. I am glad to see 

 the old time chicken dog easily sustaining its reputation. 

 I used to have a dog that took to drink and never went 

 to church. He was an awful tough dog. 



.A little illicit. 



The American Express Co. has, on request of Mr. Or- 

 gan, issued a circular to all its agents stating that in any 

 case of prosecution of the company as carrier of illicit 

 game, the costs of the suit wiU be charged up to the 

 agent accepting the consignment. This certainly should 

 make the local agents careful. Yet in spite of this, last 

 Friday the company notified President Organ that it had 



