226 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



PttABCH 16, 1893. 



A CHAPTER OF HUNTING HISTORY. 



The lovely autumn days had come and gone, and not 

 imtil the opening days of the present winter did the 

 wished-for liohday become a possibihty, and then only 

 after many busy weeks of toil and care, during which the 

 faithful Sharps hung all imheeded on the wall while the 

 yellow autumnal foliage of the tamarack and the cotton- 

 wood slowly sifted downward through the net-work of 

 naked twigs, carpeting with the fading glory of the forest 

 the deer paths and game trails which wound around the 

 mountain crags and crept down into the calions, where 

 the baby brooklets crept out from beneath the over- 

 hanging rocks and took then- first toddling steps of the 

 long journey to the Pacific. 



Others, more fortunate than the old imcle, had long 

 since gone on their usual fall hunt into the mountains, 

 but he, with nose pressed to the grindstone of care, 

 stolidly l^^ld on the treadmill round of daily toil, and the 

 chance discovered track where the big buck had crossed 

 the road in the ravine just below the cabin caused only a 

 firmer compression of the lips, and the recalling of the 

 sage counsel of the negro philosophei- — ' ' jes' yo' hoi' yer 

 breli an' wait!" 



And now that his opportunity had really arrived — ^when 

 the dawnuig hght of the long-promised day showed that 

 the earth had really donned the first Avhiteness of her 

 winter garb, and that across the bosom thereof were 

 strimg long fines of irregular dots which kept silent 

 record of the noctui-nal wanderings of vagrant deer- 

 just as he had succeeded in working himself up to a 

 quite unnecessary pitch of the old-time entlmsiasm — he 

 was gently, but quite firmly, confronted with the fact 

 that he was a married man and that a consideration, all 

 undreamed of in his heedless morning j)hilosophy , awaited 

 his immediate recognition. 



The absurdity of the idea that any other than himself 

 coioM grow weary and jaded with the load of responsi- 

 bihty and care — that a certain imcomplaining little some- 

 body should also need a holiday — was, upon an instant's 

 reflection, plainly evident; but most unfortunately the 

 said instant's reflection was deemed entirely insufficient 

 for the occasion or the subject, and the aforesaid con- 

 sideration was suddenly found planted squarely across 

 his path demanding a regular "stony British stare" of 

 recognition, instant and peremptory. 



"Wiieu she will she will, and you may depend upon it; 

 And when she won't she won't, and that's the end on'tl" 



"With true Henry Clay statesmanship a compromise was 

 efl:ected on the basis of a sleigh ride to the home of our 

 married daughter (the little lady who killed the bear), 

 where, after the midday dinner, the old crank should be 

 free to tui-n himself loose on an adjacent hunting ground 

 which experience had taught him to be good. The will- 

 ing horses were hitched to the cutter for a five-mUe spin, 

 and the sleigh ride and the visit with the little bear- 

 hunter and the two small tots of grandchildren, together 

 with the dinner which followed, were perfect. As ah 

 things come to him who waits, the old trailer finally 

 found himself following a fine of punctures in tiie snow, 

 which led him by devious windings, through, over, 

 under and around the most absurd places, but just the 

 course of travel in which Cervus virginianus defights. 

 Our route led across the bed and bottomland of a moun- 

 tain brook, then over some low hills, and finally north- 

 ward back again to the creek in a deep ravine, where the 

 half -melted snow had slipped from the tops of the over- 

 hanging firs, and falhng to the ground in the dense shade 

 of the ravine, had there crusted just enough to insure 

 noise sufficient to prevent the most careful approach sur- 

 prising a sleeping deer. Here the trail was regretfully 

 abandoned, and the slow journey continued along the 

 bank of the creek until a crossing was efl'ected, when the 

 search was resumed on the north shore, where the ground 

 sloped to the southward and the rays of the sun had soft- 

 ened the crust still to be found beneath trees, and as a 

 nimaber of short ravines here fm-rowed the southward 

 slope, the grotmd was found to be sufficiently broken to 

 render a quiet advance practicable, and hope rose once 

 again in the heart of the silent hunter. 



With searching gaze and silent tread the course was 

 now directed toward the crest of a brush-crowned ridge, 

 and just aa the bushes were being parted sufficiently to 

 permit a glance over the ridge and across the lower 

 ground in front, the upper half of the body of the hunter 

 grew suddenly statuesqe and motionless as though cast in 

 bronze, while the moccasined foot, ujoraised for the next 

 step of the slow advance, sank gently into the snow be- 

 side its fellow, as the hunter's eye caught the outhne of 

 a large deer couchant in its snowy bed 80yds. distant, 

 directly in front, and with great hqmd eyes staring won- 

 deringly into the thicket, toward which the ears steadily 

 pointed, intent to detect by sight or sound the cause of 

 the disturbing movement. Could the rifle be raised for an 

 aim without further alarm to the watchful game? Possi- 

 bly; but could aim be taken among the crossing twigs 

 sure to be raised by the elevation of the rifle? 



This was the real problem, for not a hand must be 

 moved to sweep away the bushes after the rifle was raised, 

 save at the peril of the loss of the watchful creature ready 

 to spring from sight at the first alarm. Slowly and 

 silently the rifle rose to the level of the hunter's eye, and 

 enough of an opening among the twigs was detected to 

 show that the white front bead was slowly swinging 

 across the body of the deer. 



Bang! A hundred echoes responded to the sharp call 

 of the rifle, as the hunter took a step forward to see that 

 the deer stiU lay in its bed, struggling in almost instan- 

 taneous death. A sweep of the eje across the ground in 

 front revealed nothing of note, and as a careless step or 

 two succeeded, up, seemingly out of the very earth, rose 

 two deer between the careless hunter and his prey, and 

 with mighty leaps and waving flags, bounded ofl: down 

 the creek behind trees and over the next ridge and were 

 gone. All plain in an mstant. Two large fawns, both 

 hidden in a little depression which no still-hunter of 

 a year's experience should have failed to detect on the 

 instant. 



DisgTist profound waltzed right in and pre-empted a 

 lodgment in the heart of the mortified crank who had 

 presmned to call himself a stifl-hunter. Could he never 

 learn anything? Was plain horse-sense utterly impossible 

 to him? " Or even the exercise of the common prudence of 



hiring a cheap boy to share his wanderings, and .who, 

 whUe seated on a log during an occasional halt, might 

 talk common sense to him, in small doses, according to 

 his capacity to assuuilate it. As there was scarcely time 

 just then in which to hope for improvement, much less to 

 solve puzzling questions, a shell was hurriedly slipped 

 into the empty rifle, and the back trail taken until the 

 ridge again screened every movement, when creeping 

 down to tlie bank of the creek an advance was made 

 alongside the stream, the noisy babble of which drowned 

 the smaU racket of the forward movement, until some 

 eighty rods further down stream, a glimpse was caught 

 of the two fawns high up the steep hillside 150yds. dis- 

 tant, foUowiug the sifly counsel of Edward Bellamy. 



Again the faithful Sharps outroared the noisy brook 

 and filled the woods with sound as the doe fawn dropped 

 in her tracks, and, sHding half way down to the creek 

 bed ere a friendly bush stopped her quick descent, painted 

 the long snowy hiUside with her swiftly gushing life, 

 while the "fool of the deer family," wondrous wise for 

 once in his short career, sped aw^ay swiftly and stayed 

 not upon the order of his going. And now the asthmatic 

 old uncle tugged and toiled to drag the fallen fawn to the 

 top of the hill that it might be reached with the cutter, 

 and as the sun neared the horizon he hurried down to 

 secure the team and gather in his game before nightfall. 

 As the team was being hitched up the women and chil- 

 dren became suddenly clamorous for a sleigh ride and the 

 double-seated rig was quickly loaded with noisy human- 

 ity eager to assist grandpapa in retrieving his game. 



The open timber land aUowing the use of the sleigh, the 

 doe was soon secured and the fawn almost reached, when, 

 in passing a pine tree, the cutter slid unexpectedly to one 

 side and tiie muzzle of the Sharps— the faithful Sharps — 

 (which lay croaswise in the cutter in front of the front 

 seat under my legs and projected shghtly over the side), 

 caught against the obstructing tree, and, before the 

 danger was reaUzed or a movement to prevent it could 

 have been made, the matchless old rifle barrel w^as bent 

 in the middle until its back was humped worse than that 

 of a dromedary. 



A halt was made and all gazed in open-mouthed 

 amazement at the wreck. 



No word was spoken, for each one felt that the hurt 

 was "past all surgery." 



Where could another Sharps be procured at once 

 deadly as the mountain thtmderbolt and light enough to 

 be carried in his lonely wanderings, was the problem 

 clamoring suddenly for solution in the mind of the old 

 uncle, and not even a woodland echo vouchsafed a com- 

 forting rei)ly. 



And this was the ending of my long-anticipated holi- 

 day! Silently the fawn w-as pitched headlong into the 

 cutter and stowed under a seat, its graceful beauty all 

 imnoticed save by the curious little ones, even who were 

 now becoming infected with the contagious quiet. 



The home of the little bear himter was reached, the 

 game divided, and the wandering httle ones deposited at 

 their papa's door almost in silence. ' 'Why does grand- 

 mamma hug us so quietly, and isn't grandpapa going to 

 kiss us all before he goes home?" In the deei)enin£4 dusk 

 of nightfall the eager horses sped onward toward the 

 coveted comforts of their stable home, while a very sober 

 old crank struggled to reason down tlie lump in his throat 

 with the reflection that in all the long list of splendid 

 shots made for him by the Old Eeliable, never had it done 

 more perfect work than on that rapidly fading day. 



Home was reached, the old rifle again hmig up on the 

 wall, and for many days the certain little somebody (who 

 was nearly as deeply pained by the calamity as the old 

 rmcle himself), strove with unobtrusive kindness to hu-e 

 the old enthusiast into forgetfulness of his trouble, and 

 even of the old gun itself. It was lore's labor lost. He 

 was incorrigible. When the woodcock forgets to whistle 

 with either biU or wing, when the panther forgets to 

 scream or the duck to swim, wlien again we have buffalo 

 hump for dinner or the eggs of the great auk hard boiled 

 for luncheon^ then will the old buffalo hunter forget the 

 Sharps rifle which for years has been inseparably con- 

 nected with his lonehest wanderings, and the very appear- 

 ance of which recaUs the faded glories of the old days on 

 the ranges with loved and trusted brethren of the guild 

 long since gone over the Great Divide. 



But what was to be done? Should he trust the old rifle 

 to the hands of the average gunsmith of to-day? To the 

 old Mexican artist of Spokane, for instance, who called 

 himself a gunsmith, and filed mainsprings and mended 

 keys for a fiving? Kay, verily! 



He did not need to be told that Hawkins of St. Lotus; 

 Gove, of Coimcil Bluffs, and Walter Cooper, of Bozeman, 

 were out of print, and it remained for him either to mort- 

 gage the ranch, buy him a ti-eble cross-grained Greener, 

 and a Northern electric, or Southern ijohtical or some other 

 kind of "puU," and join the mighty host of pigeon, ^ang, 

 hind leg, or some other sort of "champion" shots of the 

 world;" or else, in sheer desperation, trusting to the in- 

 herited drop of the Yankee blood of grand old Puritan 

 ancestry, to brace up and turn gunsmith himself. It came 

 to a focus at last; when with no tools save those to be 

 found on the ranch, and with no assistance save that fur- 

 nished by the little symjiathetic somebody (who would 

 tarn gunsmith, or even superintend the Lick observatory 

 if the old crarik could be thereby placated, and the benison 

 of peace again rest upon the troubled matrimonial waters), 

 the dear old gim was straightened until — barring the 

 tiniest hump, in its long bore, where in the middle of the 

 barrel a paltry sixteenth of an inch of crook still lingers 

 —the two ends of the tube were again brought into fine, 

 and the terrible express bullet again "drove center" at 

 80yds. 



Eichard was himself again! 



In the mean time dear old Mother Earth had robed her- 

 self anew in another garment, the bosom of which 

 the sad-iron of Old Sol's heated rays soon polished into 

 glistening crust, and the time arrived for another hunter 

 to have a hoHday. 



I was hauhng log-s from a low ridge a few himdred 

 yards from the house, when my son Bruce, who had been 

 hauling hay to feed cattle some distance away, came hm- 

 rying along to inquire if I had seen the deer which had 

 jiist run along the road to avoid the crust. The deer had 

 come bounding out of the swamp with frantic leaps and 

 protiaiding tongue, evidently chased by the "pestiverous" 

 coyotes. The boy was eager to follow him, and — "Could 

 he" take the old Sharps?" Certainly ; and I turned to my 

 work, leaving the eager youth to enjoy the sport his short 

 holiday might afford. | 



Returning to the ridge, I paused for a glance across the 

 open field to the westward, when I saw a chase as excit- 

 ing as coidd have been wished. The poor deer — which 

 proved to be as big a white-tail buck as I ever saw — 

 plunging through the crust about every thu-d jump — 

 struggled to distance the eager boy who raced after him 

 on the snow, and who, gainmg at length a standing shot 

 at 100yds. , brought down his game with a baU. from the 

 old Sharps, heralding his triumph with a yell which would 

 have shamed a Comanche. 



Cruel, do you say? Certainly; but what would you 

 have? The wolves had run him out of the swamp, and 

 two others were seen in waiting a shoi't distance in i' ront 

 of the fleeing deer, and took to their heels only when they 

 saw the boy advancing with the rifle. They would have 

 had him down in 10 minutes had the boy not appeared 

 upon the scene. 



Most of the deer leave our hiUs on the coming of the 

 deep snow, and migrate southward to the banks of the 

 Spokane River and the more sheltered winter ground 

 in that vicinity, where they pass the winter, and those 

 which remain here do so, as Artemus Ward says, "at the 

 peril of theu- hazard individuaUy." Knowing these 

 things fuU well, the boy made the most of the enjoyment 

 furnished by the exciting foot race, and I enjoyed the 

 moving panorama. 



The skin of the deer's legs was not cut, but when the 

 hindlegs were skinned they were found to be braised in 

 front until the skin had become a veritable blood sack, 

 and every leap must have been an agony. 



And now for a time the coyotes became the hunters and 

 held high carnival. Evidences of their mercfless work 

 appeared upon the snow, and my little son Paul, riding 

 on an errand to a neighbor's house, found a fresh deer 

 track in the snow of the road, the long leaps blood- 

 sprinkled, and with the tracks of two racing coyotes 

 alongside. So for a few terrible days the work of blood 

 and death went on unchecked. 



Again, with the caprice of changing winter fashion, 

 dear Mother Earth proceeded to clothe herself anew, and 

 several pairs of white blankets, a robe of purity and an 

 overcoat of snow were donned successively, until — 



"The white drift piled the window fi-ame, 

 And through the glass the clothes-line posts 

 Looked in like taU and sheeted ghosts." 



No more holiday for the coyotes. A life and deatli 

 struggle with hunger and cold instead, through 30in. of 

 snow fluffy as cotton wool. Ah rejoiced and feiwently 

 Avished it to continue until e-A'ery cruel vuljjine sneak 

 found a shroud of white, cost free. 



And so, for the present season the record closes. No 

 more holidays for man or brute. The advancing sun is 

 making war on the snow drifts, and now the old uncle is 

 impatiently awaiting the coming of the gentle Chinnook, 

 whose soft breath shall kiss the ghostly paleness from the 

 cheeks of our mightly hihs, and prove the harbinger of 

 the gentle summer time, when the timid fawn shall come 

 forth to romp among the lovehest and most fragrant of 

 wild roses which ever wasted their sweetness on the 

 moimtain air, in the gathering twdight of those — 



"perfect days. 

 When heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, 

 And over its bosom her warm ear lays. " 



Orin Belknap. 



THE CHARM THAT LURES US. 



In a recent issue ' 'Kuskuski" takes the brotherhood of 

 the rod and gun to task for concealing, as he declares, 

 the true desire wdiich prompts its members to make shoot- 

 ing and fishing trips, asserting that they do so for the 

 simple desire of killing. 



Since he invites sportsmen to relate to the readers of 

 your valued journal what vvishes led to their becoming 

 devotees of the rod and gun, I, as an humble member of 

 the craft, would like to narrate briefly the reasons which 

 have catised me to become a lover of the sports that bring 

 me to the sylvan forests and mui-muring streams of 

 nature's realm. 



While I admit that I hunt and fish with the hope of ob- 

 taining some reward for my labors, and a long series of 

 blank days has, for the time being, a disheartening effect, 

 stiU I distinctly assert that if shooting and fishing were 

 siiorn of the pleasures of warm companionship and beau- 

 tiful surroundings, and if no skill or care were needed in 

 the captm-e of the finned or feathered prey they would 

 quickly lose aU their fascination to me. 



Ever since I began to shoot and fish I have tried to do 

 justice toward the game, and have been liberal in my es- 

 timation of w^hat size fish should be kept, a principle 

 which many farmers, and many who are not, might 

 adopt w^ith advantage both toward the iish and toward 

 themselves. 



If "Kuskuski" were encamped in a dreary country and 

 with iU-natured comrades he would learn that though the 

 woods and waters might teem with game and fish, stfll it 

 could not fiU the gap that the absence of picturesque 

 scenery and cheerful campmates wotdd make. One mean 

 or selfish pei*son can utterly desti'oy the pleasure of the 

 best camping pai-ty ever organized, while with gay and 

 light-hearted companions there may be bad luck, but never 

 lack of pleasure. 



I think that a person who has an eye for the beautiftd, 

 and who loves to read the secrets of nature's endless scroll, 

 which she is continually unrolling before him, experiences 

 more pleasm-e and contentment than can ever befall the 

 man who sees beauty and pleasure in her woods and 

 waters only when looking at them through glasses stained 

 with blood. ■ EuKus. 



Doubles on Woodcock. 



Central Lake, Mich. , March 8. — In your last paper one 

 correspondent doubts the existence of any person who has 

 shot two woodcock with one barrel. I prestime that there 

 are not a few among your readers who have done it. I 

 cannot claim for myself an experience of this kind, but 

 early in the season I have seen the young birds rise so 

 nearly in range that had I wished, I think I coiild have 

 shot two, if not three with one barrel. 



Something over 40 years ago Mr. Ruf tis Eager, a well- 

 known woodcock shooter of Lancaster, Mass., missed a 

 woodcock w ith his first barrel, and the shot started an- 

 other witMn lOft. of the sportsman. Both the first and 

 the second birds were killed by the next shot, though un- 

 intentionally on the part of Or. Eager. Kelpie. 



