358 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



IDeo. 39, 1898, 



time to getting our cabin built before snow comes. Now 

 of course this particular job must be delayed more or 

 less, for the boy's ardor for the hunt is such that it must 

 be catered to, and with prospects of good weather and a 

 good, comfortable tent to sleep in it does seem hard to 

 work when we came up here to hunt. 



One deer hung up near by satisfies all hands for the 

 present, and the taste of wild meat makes them still 

 more wilhng to get things fixed up, so that we can have 

 an uninterrupted season of sport. 



Now, this shanty or cabin is built of logs in the usual 

 manner, covered with boards. It is sufficiently large to 

 accommodate all hands, experience having taught us 

 that a hunting party could stow away in pretty small 

 quarters. 



Hank and Joe take the boat almost daily with the 

 avowed intention of providing ducks and fish, while the 

 rest of us devote our time to deer and bear hunting, our 

 evenings being spent in the usual camp fashion — cards, 

 stories, smoking, and reading after mail days. 



Night Shooting, 



Our usual programme is, arise at 4:3(1 and get break- 

 fast over and work done up so as to be oft' to our run- 

 ways and mast ridges by early daybreak. No dinner, 

 only a lunch, carried in coat pockets. The first man into 

 camp at night has to commence choring by firing up and 

 lugging water. Supper after dark generally, unless 

 there is to be some watching of runways at dark: if so, 

 we usually dine at 2:'60 or 3:30 P. M., that gives easy time 

 to place ourselves by dark. Thia style of hunting is per- 

 fectly legitimate and usually successful. There is no 

 light used, the hunter locating himself near a runway or 

 feeding ground, waits patiently for the appearance of 

 the game. If moonlight, a rifle, and if dark, a shotgun, 

 with buckshot, will be the weapon to use. Keep abso- 

 lutely quiet and still, and when perfectly sure of the 

 game, then pull. 



Perhaps to some nervous people this would be a trial, 

 to be, as I have often been, sitting perfectly quiet for 

 hours, as it seems, and at last you hear the slow step ap- 

 proaching nearer and nearer, then looms up the figure of 

 a proud buck. No, not yet! Too far away; let him come 

 a little closer. Steady! Hold your breath — now he is 

 coming nearer; raise your gun very slowly and steadily, 

 inch by inch, behding the head to bring the eye along the 

 barrel, and just as soon as you think he is near enough, 

 pull the trigger. If you have a rifle throw in another 

 shell as quickly as possible, aa you may need it, or if a 

 shotgun hold your spare barrel ready for an emergency, 

 offensive or defensive — even have two extra shells in your 

 hand ready to throw into the gun — but no, he is down, 

 and the next thing is to properly bleed him. Experience 

 has taught that a wounded buck must be approached 

 verv cautiously, as even in their death struggles they are 

 liable to seriously injure a man, of which fact Tom bears 

 witness, as a few words will relate later on. 



Now, for this night's shooting everything depends on 

 the wind. A good strong wind is favorable if blowing 

 from the direction from which the game may be expected 

 and if brought to ground at first shot it is usuallv safer to 

 plant a revolver ball in tbeir foreheads before" they re- 

 cover from the shock. This will fettle any little differ- 

 ences of opinion between game and hunter, and does not 

 mutilate the animal like a body shot, nor does it nerve 

 them into a fierce struggle as when they feel the edge of 

 a knife at their throat. 



Tom's Deer. 



Tom's deer you .say? Well yes, and being his first I 

 guess he won't care it I tell you about it, or perhaps he 

 can do it better. 



"Early one morning whUe quietly on my way to the 

 •North Grounds' as we called one of our favorite sec- 

 tions for deer, as I stepped into a little opening of per- 

 haps four acres, I heard a rustling in the brush about 

 fifteen rods away. With the motion of throwing my 

 rifie into position, out jumped a large buck. He saw my 

 motion and for an instant stood just as he struck, looking 

 at me as I pulled the trigger. At the report of the gun 

 he turned and bounded straight away from me into the 

 brush but not quick enough to escape three more shots 

 which I sent after him as rapidly as I could work the 

 gun. Still with all my boasted marksmanship I saw my 

 deer disappear in the brush. However, with somo doubt 

 as to my success, I started over to look for blood upon the 

 leaves, and while following up the trail I soon came upon 

 my deer, lying down in the struggles of death. Thinking 

 to soon end his suflierings, I set my gun against a tree 

 and drew my knife to cut his throat; approaching from 

 behind I placed one foot on a prong of his antlers, and 

 grasping the other branch of them so that I could hold 

 him firmly, I reached over to put in the finishing touches, 

 when as the knife touched the skin, rip! zip! thud! That 

 deer had risen on his fore quarters and was trying to get 

 over to where I lay on my back, about 20ft. from him. 

 That he could not do, however, and finding myself not 

 seriously hurt, I took my gun, thinking to finish him with 

 a ball mthe head, but as I made ready to shoot he dropped 

 again to the ground, satisfying me by his actions that I 

 could more safely approach him. This I did, but in 

 future I will take no chances. 



This deer, by the way, was a very large and powerful 

 one, as we paid express charges on 205 lbs. when dressed 

 the reader may judge of the size. The post mortem ex- 

 amination, which was conducted by an interested party 

 developed some remarkable results as to penetration 

 marksmanship and vitality, as of the four shots fired 

 the first passed clear through back of the shoulders and 

 out another entering about an inch to one side of the 

 median line and about an inch and a half below the root 

 ot the tail, passed through the large hip joint, shatterinsr 

 it completely, on through the stomach and ribs, then 

 through the front shoulder blade and was found badly 

 battered up just under the skin of the shoulder. One of 

 the other two clipped off about 2in. of the tail, while the 

 last, passing unde^ the belly, ripped a gash about Sin. 

 long. The cartridges used in this case were .SScal. 40 

 grains of powder and 180 of lead, developing, as shown 

 enormous penetration. From a description of these 

 wounds It will be seen that a heavy calibered weapon is 

 hf ^ni 'i^f^.^l^^tiDg. as only in case of a heart or 



he^^d shot will a light one stand any show. 



^^r^K'^^f^^"^.^^^^"*^',"^^^^^ each man goes off alone, it 

 °i to tlie intending hunter to know what 



^tffof a proper outfit of weapons, not touching the 

 flatter of clothing further than to remark that it should 

 De Of good texture and corresponding to color of trees, ' 



etc. Each man carries a repeating rifle, with ten to 

 twenty extra cartridges, a belt, with revolver, knife and 

 a small axe, a compass, of course, being indispensable. 



Perhaps the reader may have become so interested in 

 this subject as to want to know more fully all of the de- 

 tails of forest hunting. Before I became a sportsman I 

 was an enthusiastic reader of sporting literature and 

 eagerly devoured, as it were, ever scrap of outing mis- 

 cellany. Even now my desires in that direction have 

 not waned, and sometimes after a long day's hunt I am 

 to be found at night reclining on the hemlock bed, read- 

 ing, by the light of the lantern, the exploits of some 

 other fellow who knows what it is to rough it in camp. 



Hanging Up a Deer. 



Let us imagine a hunter as mentioned before, say about 

 four miles from camp, standing over his 2001bs. buck, too 

 far away to signal for help, and that deer cannot lie there 

 till morning; it must be hung up, dressed and be so 

 plficed that foxes or other vermin cannot get at it. 



Prepare from a good stout sapling a gambrel similar to 

 that used by farmers at butchering time, insert it the 

 same as for a hog or calf; now select a convenient tree 

 with projecting limbs about nine or ten feet from the 

 ground. On one of these limbs place the butt end of a 

 stout pole, say 12 to 20ft., having first got the deer in 

 shape under it, and with the sma'l end of the pole passed 

 through under the gamV)rel stick; now commence and 

 work the deer up this inclined pole as far as you can, if 

 necessary cutting notches for the gambrel to rest in to 

 prevent slipping. With a good crotch stick ready, raise 

 the small end of the long pole up aldbgside of some con- 

 venient tree as high as you can, placing the crotch stick 

 under to hold it there. This will be high enough to dress 

 it. Now if desired you can raise the deer still higher by 

 cutting longer crotch sticks and pushing the end of the 

 long pole higher thereby. 



Dress a bear in the same way. This is a job where 

 your ax comes in, and by the time it is done you find the 

 shadows deepening around you, which, with occasionally 

 an owra hoot, gives warning of fast approaching dark- 

 ness. You feel tired, but not desiring a lonely night's 

 vigil by the root of a tree, you must hurry off to camp 

 while it is yet twilight. Darkness will certainly overtake 

 you, but you know the camp rules; "If any man is not 

 in by dark, those in camp will fire two shots at intervals 

 of two minutes, three times unless answered, then after 

 fifteen minutes the same is repeated until answered, or 

 two of the boys will start out with lanterns, firing signal 

 shots occasionally." One shot from the missing party is 

 the answer. Bang! -Bang! Yes, they are shooting for 

 you now; so raise the muzzle of your gun to deliver the 

 sound well up in the air, and answer them. Away 

 through the woods yonder came the sound of camp shots, 

 cheering up the spirits and freshening the muscles for a 

 finish of the day's work. Into camp again with a smoking 

 hot supper awaiting you, then a general recounting of 

 the day's adventures by all members of the partj\ Two 

 deer, some ducks, partridges and a nice mess of fifih are 

 added to the list of eatables to-day. 



Such is the usual routine of camp life, varied by less 

 favorable days of storms and consequent scarcity of 

 game. 



Winter in Camp. 



Fortunately we have met with no accidents during our 

 sojourn together, and with feelings of regret that the 

 season is so soon over, Frank and myself help the boys 

 pack up and see them aboard the train homeward bound, 

 with a good supply of game in the baggage car for the 

 folks at home. Back we go to camp for the winter, and 

 as the daily events from now on will be so nearly alike, I 

 will not bore the reader with more than a general idea of 

 how we passed the time. 



The season being one of severe storms, we usually hunt 

 together for safety. Every morning making the round 

 of our traps by boat when we can, on foot when the lakes 

 freeze over, removing any game that may be caught for 

 the fur, resetting when no signs of recent visitation from 

 animals, or carrying into camp those we can find no new 

 places for. When the ice gets stronger we fish through 

 it for the gamy pickerel, or stormy days finds us close 

 about camp, cutting word, writing letters or reading, 

 with the many odd little jobs to occupy our attention. 



Our pack of furs is growing larger day by day, but as 

 yet we have not succeeded in getting any more bears 

 until along toward spring during a warm spell, we found 

 some fresh tracks one morning not far from camp, and 

 of course that fellow is our meat, even if we have to fol- 

 low him a week. Back we go to camp for a supply of 

 grub apiece and more cartridges; for at this time of the 

 year that bear is hungry and cross, and in his search for 

 food may lead us a long chase. How long the reader 

 can judge from the fact that we camped on his track that 

 night, and along in the afternoon of the next day came 

 up with him in a swampy place, through which we had 

 to crawl almost on our hands and knees. Hark! There 

 he goes tearing through the brush, and bang! bang! bang! 

 the old repeaters send messages of death after the black 

 carcass. "Jeewhiz!" says Frank, "he is a buster sure, but 

 I guess we will get him now." 



Dropping aU superfluous clothing and blankets on the 

 snow, we tear ahead after him as fast as we can. After 

 a good half-hour's chase, during which the sight of blood 

 drops appearing on the snow with increased frequency is 

 a strong stimulant to us— we come up to a little thicket 

 of brush and are "brought up all standing" as a sailor 

 would say, by a succession of very savage growls. Evi- 

 dently bruin is at bay, and we must use great care, but 

 care nothing! There is a rush and rustle of the brush 

 and before we have time to think that bear is almost on 

 top of us. "Jump, Frank!" "Look out, Jim!" were the 

 exclamations made as my .40-65 jumped to my shoulder 

 in time to see Frank sprawling over the snow by a blow 

 from that strong paw, and as he fell I fired at the bear's 

 foreshoulder. Finding that he had another enemy, he 

 turned to me, as again I sent a leaden command to halt 

 but halting was not in his mind then, and before I could 

 get in the third shot, I was myself sprawling in the 

 brush, while it seemed as though a mountain of hair and 

 flesh stood over me. While trying to draw my revolver 

 to give him a few of its soothing pills before he would be 

 able to injure me much, Frank had gotten himself in 

 shape and seeing my danger, took careful aim and fired 

 the ball entering back of his shoulder and passing through 

 the heart. As he fell he gave me one farewell pat with 

 those long claws which not only took off my coat, vest 

 aqa shirts, but also went into tlje skin, leaving four little 



scratches to be patched up with court plaster. That's 

 nothing, though, for a bear hunt, and "we got him," 

 hide, meat and all. 



A Bear "Scrap." 



While taking that bear into camp, we found where 

 another had been eating the carcass of a deer which had 

 evidently died of a wound. The weather being fine, we 

 concluded to patch up a little before trying issue with 

 that gentleman. Next morning bright and early, we 

 started on the trail, following it all forenoon, and coming 

 up to a settlers found that they had frightened the bear 

 away from their pig-pen the night before. This settler, 

 Mr. B., wanted a little bear meat and concluded to join 

 us in the hunt. After a good warm dinner at bis house 

 all three started out, taking his mongrel dog Jack. We 

 tracked that bear all the afternoon, and at night stopped 

 with another settler Mr. Y., who joined with us the 

 next morning in the renewal of the chase. The weather 

 turning very cold in the night we hoped that our game 

 would den up somewhere near. 



Out on the track again, through the woods and " burn- 

 ings " across lakes and streams, sure enough we found 

 an apparent ending to those queer-shaped footmarks. 

 Just ahead there is a tangled up mess of trees, branches 

 and blackberry brush, the work of some wind-storm and 

 the prolific brier. Leaving my three companions to wait 

 for me, I start out around the pile, making a complete 

 circle back to the waiting trio, finding no signs of bruin's 

 departure. " Yes, he is in there," but how to get him 

 out, is the question. My little strips of court plaster 

 remind me that I don't want to crawl in there for a 

 private interview with a sleepy, hungry, beary bear ; for 

 my gentle intrusion might suddenly awaken him to a 

 renewed appetite and liveliness. No, that won't do, but 

 as the others are a little backward about forming a close 

 acquaintance with live bear meat, something must be 

 done. We can't freeze him out, don't want to burn him 

 out and can't coax him out. Our dog Jack, too, is very 

 expectant (of a chance to run home as fast as he can), if 

 his manner is at all indicative, for he stands back on the 

 trail, with closely reefed tail and sides shivering with 

 cold or fear, plainly showing that we can expect no 

 assistance from him. 



Well, I've crawled after the game before and as I'm 

 here to hunt, hunt it is. Doffing overcoat and closely 

 buttoning my canvas hunting coat about me, with my 

 rifle left conveniently near the entrance, revolver in right 

 hand, trusty hunting knife in the other I start in on "all 

 fours." It begins to smell "beary" as I get further into 

 the pile and listening quietly I hear a wheezy breathing 

 still further in. Now, dear I'eader, don't think^that I am 

 a Daniel Boone or Davy Crockett, for candidly I am not, 

 and just then I wished myself far away "o'er hill and 

 dale" where I had more friends, but with a bear ahead of 

 me and three men behind me to laugh at my cowardice 

 (well they might laugh when they were better fixed to 

 run or fight), the situation was becoming more desperate. 

 I considered matters as calmly as my pardonably excited 

 condition would allow, evolving a plan whereby I might 

 wake up that bear without letting him know who did it. 

 Locating his body as near as I could by the breathing, I 

 backed out until nearly to the entrance, still having as I 

 judged a straight course for the bullets. Noting the 

 position well, I went on out to report matters as they 

 stood, explaining my intentions. Knowing full well 

 what dependence I could put on Frank, I had him remain 

 at the entrance with rifle cocked, Mr. B. was detailed 

 half way around on the right while Mr. T. took up a 

 position on the left. 



Thus arranged with due caution not to shoot me in- 

 stead of the bear, I went back in as far as I dared, 

 intending to send three or four shots from my revolver, 

 and then get out as quickly as I could. This scheme 

 worked perfectly. "Fools for luck" every time, with my 

 third shot I commenced crawfishing my way out as best 

 I could, and as I reached open air a yell from Mr. T. an- 

 nounced "Here he comes." Bang! bang! "Hurry up, 

 boys," bang-bang-zip-zip-zip, there goes Jack, whose fear 

 was forgotten in the excitement, the bear still going on 

 through the windfall, "There! he's stopped to fight the 

 dog," and pell-mell we rushed to the spot from whence 

 Jack was sending yelps of offense. By not having an 

 overcoat to hinder my motions I soon overtake T. and 

 arrive first to the "scrap." One shot from me and from 

 Frank, another and another, which finished matters just 

 as B. and T. arrivedl on the scene. The hide was all we 

 took, leaving the meat for our friends, as we had plenty 

 in camp. Going back we stayed over night with Mr. T., 

 taking the round of our traps the next day; and although 

 we found an occasional track in the woods as spring ap- 

 proached, no more bears were killed. 



We continued our trapping until about the middle of 

 April, when breaking camp, we again sought civiliza- 

 tion, feeling that our outing had been all that we had 

 planned it to be, not, however, enough to completely 

 allay the desire, and now each season finds us again, for 

 the brief period allowed by law for deer hunting, living 

 in a canvas house on the bank of a lake, where memory 

 recalls many scenes of comfort and pleasure, 



.JA3IES Kjs-IGHT. 



Game Notes from the Pecos Valley. 



Eddy, New Mexico, Dec. 20.— Mr. W. F, Krum and 

 Mr. Harold Gregory, of Chicago, have just returned from 

 an antelope hunt on the staked plains. They went out 

 forty miles to a small lake, in the vicinity of which they 

 found sumething like twenty bunches of antelope, from 

 ten to fifty in each bunch. Tbe country was almost per- 

 fectly level and the hunters found it impossible to get 

 within easy shooting distance. They succeeded, how- 

 ever, in getting one antelope, plenty of quail and one 

 coyote. 



Mr. Albert Netherland, who lives in the Guadalupe 

 Mountains, about seventy miles west, lately brought in 

 ten deer and two antelopes, which he sold to a local meat 

 market. A hunter who lives near Roswell killed and 

 brought in, a few days ago, eight antelope, which he sold 

 for $1.50 a head. Miles T. Stone brought in, on Wednes- 

 day last, nineteen deer and a bear, which he kiUedin the 

 Guadalupes. All good people regret to know that this 

 market-hunting is being carried on; but there is no means 

 of preventing it, and since it is being done it is just as 

 well to let it be known, in order that the readers of 

 Forest and Stream may \now where they can find 

 game when they want it, G. G. ShteivDs. 



