Nov. 11, 1893.1 



FOREST A^JU STREAM. 



407 



•^wf^ S^g ^nd ^nij. 



THE LONE CANVASBACK. 



As THE shadows crept from the western hill, 

 And the wind from the lake came damp and chill, 

 In his lonely blind, on an ancient log, 

 An old hunter sat, with his gun and dog. 



And the twilight stars and the plodding moon, 

 And the plaintive cry of the phantom loon, 

 Told the hunter old that the time bad come 

 To desist from sport and to pull for home. 



But the shades grew dark and the wind grew cold. 

 And the saucy loon had begun to scold, 

 While the hunter still, and his faithful dog, 

 Like two shadows sat on that old gray log. 



In the long ago, at the same old stand. 

 This man with his dog had sat there and planned 

 How he might circumvent the proud canvas drake 

 That persistently stayed far out in the lake. 



'Twas thoughts such as these, such reveries dear, 

 Made him blind to the stars and too deaf to hear 

 The laugh of the loon, the wind's fitful moan, 

 And tired nature's hints to leave her alone. 



But why does he start from his dream profound? 

 And why does the dog peer anxiously 'round? 

 Did the rushes sigh or the night wind stir 

 The low drooping boughs of the lonely flr? 



'Twas the whistling wings of a canvas bold. 

 That came for the night to rest in the fold. 

 That long years before had been a resort 

 For him and his friends and birds of his sort. 



But to shoot his lake in the falling dew 

 Was against the rule, as the hunter well knew; 

 So he buttoned his coat and sat still to hear 

 What the bird might say of trips far and near. 



Quoth the canvas bold: "I am growing old, 

 And I feel the chill of the night wind cold; 

 So I'll crawl behind this withered old blind, 

 And see what comfort an old drake can find. 



'But it seems to me that here I can see 

 A familiar look; but it may not be, 

 For as I can say, 'twas a bright, still day. 

 But long years ago, that I came this way. 



'Happy days were those when our leader chose 

 Pretty spots like this for our night's repose; 

 But the hammerless gun has taught us to shun 

 The best resting lakes that He under the sun. 



"My friends of the past have gone very fast 

 From the face of earth, since I came here last. 

 In fact, all alone I am left to atone 

 For the harmless faults of a race now gone. 



"But I wish myself dead. I wish that the lead 

 Had gone to my heart and killed me instead. 

 In my lonely days there are very few rays 

 Of the hope that builds while the frame decays. 



"In days long ago, when the Indian's bow, 

 With its rawhide thong, was our only foe, 

 We could look with contempt upon every attempt 

 ' That the red man made, or even dreamt. 



"But the white man came with his leaden flame, 

 And destroyed our race, in all but the name. 

 Our love for our kind lured us up to his bUnd, 

 With its sirens in front and its death knell behind. 



"And they tell me, too, that the old wapato 

 Doesn't grow any more on Columbia slough; 

 But I'll dive and see, for there's naught to me 

 That can take its place this side of the sea. 



"But list I Did I hear a strange sound, and near ? 

 Or was it my heart just beating with fear? 

 I have wandered about like a vagabond lout. 

 In fear and distress, till I'ai all worn out. 



"If I would not die I must turn and fly. 

 Where the midnight sun tints the polar sky- 

 I must steer my flight by the Northern light. 

 And my sad way wing in the silent night." 

 PoBTLAJfD, Ore., Oct. 27. S. H. Gbkens:. 



MIXED SHOOT IN CONNECTICUT. 



It was about the middle of October that I got word to 

 catch the 7 o'clock train east the next morning for a da-y's 

 shoot with a friend. 



The old gun had scarcely been awakened from its close 

 season's nap, and its owner had been so busy that the 

 usual enthusiasm of a foredrafted shoot was almost en- 

 entirely wanting. Yet with some misgivings and many 

 conjectures as to the probabilities of finding birds, I wan- 

 dered to the station next morning and met my friend on 

 the train. After a ride of about twenty miles we were 

 dumped, dogs and all, in to rocks, brush and rurahsms, 

 and by the way, ruralisms are the hardest things we have 

 to shoot against, except angUcisms and drade-Uke fads. 



After wrangling about directions for some time we 

 reached a mean, partially imderstood etich other and 

 struck out for glory, leathers and sweet cider. The first 

 was scarce, but of the last two we got a genteel sufficiency. 

 I don't know but I've started this big enotigh for a bear 

 hunt in the Sierras, but it cannot be such, for we've 

 neither Sierras, bears nor men big enough to hold a 

 grizzly while another bats its brains out with a sandbag 

 from the tomb of the mighty Cassar. Still we have a 

 good many falsifiers, and in a futm-e communication I 

 will tell you of an athletic one, provided you don't dis- 

 cover one in this. 



We followed the road nearly a mile, when we got over 

 the fence and struck for brush. We had barely reached 

 the edge of a maple run when I heard a partridge jump 

 and saw it go iu to the alders below; we split, Bill to left, 

 I to right, and moved down on her for action. Slie 

 wouldn't lie; jumped wild; I got a gUmpse, pulled, aaad 

 Dinks retrieved to my surprise. "We ai-e not skunk«d 

 anyway" says BUI, and on we go. 



A little way brought my dog to a challenge and made 

 me feel interested; he had just started ou the trail to crosis 



the swamp, when BUl's gun twice answered to his touch; 

 but smoked without avail. We took the range and after 

 hunting full half an hour without a jump, tm'ned to the 

 right and were about to give her up as too smart, when 

 lo, I heard a sharp whirr above me, and looking, saw her 

 hugging the ground along the sidehill with a sharp left 

 angle away. I happened to drop the gun just right, and 

 she fell without a flutter. We then crossed the road, 

 and reaching the top of the hiU, BiU tried his luck once 

 more on a bird that started above him and went past going 

 down the hill, failing to stop her. We followed, but she 

 jumped entirely out of sight and we gave her up. 



A quarter of a mile brought us to a good woodcock 

 ground, but they were non est. On the further side, how- 

 ever, the dog challenged, and after crossing and reoross- 

 ing the swamp on a running flock of quail, we managed 

 to overtake them in the thickest cover Christopher Colum- 

 bus could discover in five counties. Flushing, they all 

 held low, not rising above 5ft. , and disappeared in the 

 brush. I pulled twice, killing the first dead and wound- 

 ing the second hard. Dinks soon found the wounded 

 bird, and on flushing it came directly at me and within 

 6ft. I let it pass, intending to shoot when it got far 

 enough away; but it settled back on to the ground and 

 took to its legs to my disgust. The dog soon got the trail 

 and after following about TSyds. pointed. I could not 

 find the bird, and he would not stir. I finally pushed 

 him, and he picked the quail up out of the leaves right 

 under his nose. Bill came and we hustled the rest of 

 them as well as we could. I got five more chances and 

 five more quail. He did some more shooting, but failed to 

 score. Yet game stiU, he was happy and hopeful. There 

 were six or seven left, but so hard to find that we gave it 

 up. 



Dropping into a swale some distance below, we started 

 a partridge. Following, she let us pass, and as I came 

 back to the fence she ripped out of a maple about 35yds. 

 away, and crossed me sharp to right and well up in the 

 air. It broke me aU up to see her come out of the tree, 

 and I shot a little too high. A few feathers told me I had 

 hit her, and that was all. Going back into the swamp, I 

 followed her, and was just balanced on a wing fence when 

 she started straight to the front, crossing to left. I was 

 going to do the job right that time, and put the gun just 

 in front of her (but I could not get it low enough) and let 

 it go. That was the last I saw of her, untU BiU, coming 

 up from below, picked her up dead in the exact direction 

 she had been flying when I fired. 



We then drifted on about half a mile and started three 

 partridge together. They were cunning, and for quite a 

 while managed to outgeneral us. Driving to the end of 

 the run we passed them, and coming back they again 

 tricked us. We opened fire, however, but only to mow 

 some brush and pepper a big white birch. Driving back 

 they dropped in the edge of the swale and Dinks got a 

 point. Running like a redhead around a knoll, I got in 

 above them. They knew it, and two went to the big 

 woods without giving a single chance. The third one I 

 was too close to, and caught him before he could reach a 

 low-hanging grape vine tha,t he attempted to cover with, 



We then had seven quail and fom- partridges, and we 

 concluded to eat dinner by a little brook up on the hill. 

 Going up there we discovered the spot sought for, a 

 brook, a rim of scattering maples, and a plentitude of 

 moss-covered boulders. It was a spot fair enough for 

 any one to eat in, and it seems a partridge thought so, 

 too, for when we were within 50yds. of it up got a bird 

 and hustled down a swale. We gave up dinner and went 

 after her. On the right of the brook below was large 

 timber, on the left now and then a scattering white oak. 



After hunting through the big wood we failed to find 

 her. I suspected she was hid close to the brook. Bill 

 would not go back so I went alone, tni I reached a cart 

 path that crossed it. I concluded (it being rather warm) to 

 test the water there. I laid down my gun, charged the dog 

 and had just got stretched out on the ground when there 

 was an earthquake; that partridge had jumped not 20yds. 

 above me and was coming down past. I jumped on to 

 my feet, grabbed my gun and tried to straighten out, but 

 I rolled like a ship in a heavy sea. I put in the first bar- 

 rel, but it was inches over her; I managed to get the 

 muzzle down, pulled it ahead into position and stopped 

 her with the second. Then I took a drink of water while 

 the dog retrieved. 



We traveled down the swale looking for another good 

 place to lunch and had just found it when Bill picked a 

 woodcock out from between two rocks on the edge of 

 another maple swamp. He called loudly for it to stop, 

 but it did not seem to know him and kept right along. 

 I started it next and fired both barrels without scoring, 

 BUI joining in the chorus. I was ready to bet I could 

 not hit a balloon just then; and then, well, I missed it 

 again; I got mad then. Again it got up, this time in 

 thick scrub oaks (with the leaves on), at very long range. 

 I put the gun on him that time and he answered the call. 



We then dined; rather late, but our appetites were 

 with us, and they are the finest things in the world to dine 

 with. As a reUsh, they discount all other kinds, despite 

 the fact they have never become an article of commerce. 



Dinner over, we crossed a range of cleared hills until 

 we struck a long swale, through which a road runs. We 

 had just stepped into this path when BUl's dog put a par- 

 tridge out of the brush just below; and she came up the 

 hill on our right and near Bill's position. He straightened 

 out for action in good style, and pulled both barrels. The 

 first struck; the second never touched her; bijt for all that 

 he flrmly believed that it was the second barrel that killed 

 her. The collective enthusiasm of the party now reached 

 summer heat, and we tackled the big swale. 



The lower end was nearly reached, when a partridge 

 jumped in advance and came back at us. I saw her just 

 disappearing in the same copse of alders in which I was 

 standing, and tried to stop her; but was not quick enough. 

 I fired behind her, but near enough for Bill's safety, who 

 was not 30ft, from the fine of fire, entirely hidden by the 

 thick brush. She flew but a short distance, and Bill soon 

 started and fired, but failed to score. She again flew 

 north. Dinks got a point, when I started and killed. 



We soon emerged into a cornfield, and had just re- 

 marked of its fitness for quail, when BiU's dog ran down 

 across the field to the southwest, plump "into a flock of 

 about fifteen birds, and away they went into the brush 

 and out of range without a shot. Going into the brush 

 my dog soon got a point, but they were running and 

 jumped wild. A couple of shots brought nothing but a 

 few feathers. Being nearly out of shells I gave up the 

 main flock and foUowed one I wounded to the left. I 



I had gone but a short distance when Dinks challenged 

 and began to road. I folloAved just outside the brush 

 slightly in advance of the dog and awaited developments. 

 So closely did I watch his movements that I stepped di- 

 rectly over a large woodchuck skulking close to the 

 ground. Not sighting until he rose I did not molest him, 

 and he took one good look at me and then cantered 

 toward his hole. I fear if I had stepped on him he would 

 have waked me from my reflections with a jerk. Still the 

 bird ran and I knew from my dog's actions that it was a 

 partridge. Twice I tried to head it off but each time I 

 was too short. It finaUy jumped out of sight and I fol- 

 lowed on in the direction it flew. After hunting for half 

 an hour I was obliged to give it up without a shot. 



All this time Bill had been blasting at a terrific gait and 

 fully expected to find him stuck fast in the mud from the 

 weight of his catch. But, alas, for suppositions, whether 

 liberal or conservative, they are seldom right; and, alas, 

 for a man's reputation as a shooter when he gets nervous 

 enough to think he must be careful and n®t miss. 



In crossing over Dinks came to a point on a knoU with 

 only here and there a scattering bird. "Now," I said to 

 myself, "I've but threa sheUs, and I must kill." As I 

 stepped in front of the dog up got my wounded quafl.. I 

 closed my left eye, squinted my sight to the proper notch 

 and then missed that quail fair and square. I didn't try 

 twice, but shouldered my gun and went down to pull Bill 

 out of the mud. It was unnecessary. "How many?" I 

 inquired. "One," was the melancholy answer. At the 

 same time Dinks pointed and retrieved a dead quail. BUI 

 thought that if one had flown on and dropped dead, the 

 brush must be full of dead quail. But his hopes soon 

 vanished in a fresh attempt. His mighty bone hunter, 

 called Shad (in handling which I told him he should use 

 a bone) pointed; Bill flushed and missed, and in disgust 

 we left them to their own care, as it was fast gaining 

 toward night. As we got over the fence in the big woods 

 a quail started of its own accord, and I missed. 



As the sun was just ducking its upper limb, we con- 

 cluded to seek the depot by the nearest route. BUI was 

 tired, and thought a team would be the speediest way. 

 To find one we sought the first house, which lay at the 

 head of this meadow. A narrow run of scrub oaks and 

 alders Uned its northern side, and we hunted this going 

 up. We had nearly reached the end when up whistled a 

 woodcock, being surprised it was some time before I 

 pulled on him, but the dog retrieved him, and it was my 

 last shell. Nothing more, until we were within 50ft. of 

 the end, was seen, when both dogs pointed. BiU ^ot wild 

 with the outlook, and made me take his gun as ms shells 

 would not fit my own. So I stepped up to the dogs, and 

 a woodcock jumped on my right, but kept low in the 

 brush, which in the fast gathering darkness made it very 

 difiicult for me to see. I shot at him, but could not tell 

 the effect. The dogs moved ahead a few feet and pointed 

 again. Slipping in another shell, I stepped in, flushed, 

 and it rose well, and I knocked it spinning, at the same 

 instant another started on the other side of the run, flew 

 but a few rods and dropped into the swamp again. I 

 could not see it. But on Bill showing me the spot, went 

 in, flushed and kiUed, I then sent Dinks in on the line of 

 the bii-d I had shot at, but could not see, and he fetched 

 it in dead, making four woodcock in about five minutes, 

 on twenty rods of ground. 



We had 7 partridge, 9 quail and 5 woodcock, 21 birds. 

 Not a great big thing for two men, but all but one or two 

 had been shot in very thick cover, on ground hunted, by 

 some one nearly every day in the week. We were a pair 

 of happy gunners. It had been a grand day's sport to us. 

 We had been in luck all day in finding. We had enough. 

 We had both shot as well as we expected to, and had a 

 bag beyond our wildest hopes. We now sought the farm 

 house, but nothing would tempt its owner to try his 

 steed's mettle for the next train, so we girded up our 

 loins and settled down to conquer the necessary two miles 

 or garnish the wayside with our noble bones. We wanted 

 the 5:45 train; but we did not get it. We had covered 

 about half-way, and had just reached the height of a 

 grand hill, when away to the northeast about two miles, 

 we saw the headlight of No. 27 swing into the sharp 

 angle of the V formed by two high hiUs, and give us fight 

 on a subject of which we had sooner remained in the dark. 

 We were left. We took it easy after that, and on reach- 

 ing the station went over to the hotel and had a good, 

 supper and some coffee, which of all decoctions is best 

 and mightiest. Then we boarded the next train at 7:10 

 perfectly happy. C. D. E. 



Quail in Northern New York. 



Port Henry, N. Y., Oct. 30.— You ask in last week's 

 issue for reports on the success of transplanted quail. I 

 give my mite. In the spring of 1892 I planted some ten 

 dozen West "Virginia birds in this neighborhood. They 

 mated and thrived that summer and spread throughout 

 the surrounding towns. Some begun traveling in Octo- 

 ber, leaving enough bevies for seed, ' I had good sport 

 with them during the season and left parts of bevies for 

 a test. Much to my sm-prise, I found some three or four 

 of the bevies I kept watch of were doing weU. I found in 

 February one bevy of twenty strong birds that I had not 

 known of before. AU during this last spring and summer 

 we have heard their pleasant caUs aU around us; and I 

 have heard of them for miles around, showing that more 

 survived than I knew of. 



I have been in North Dakota chicken shooting this fall 

 and afterward to the Fair, so that I have not had much 

 chance to locate the bu-ds. My wife and I took the dogs 

 out on Saturday, however, and found in the course of a 

 two-hours' walk two bevies, one with about forty birds in 

 it (evidently two bevies that had got together on the stub- 

 ble) and the other with about fourteen birds. On our way 

 home we met a man who told us of three other bevies not 

 far off, one of which he claimed had at least seventy-five 

 birds in it. Wednesday we wiU be on deck bright and 

 early. I am rather surprised at their Uving through last 

 winter here and being winter-kiUed elsewhere, for we 

 never lack snow and cold to test the hardiest. 



W. C. WlTHEEBEE. 



North Carolina Quail Season. 



Mr. W. a. Bryan, of the Renfro Inn, at Mount 

 Airy, NC, writes; Ou^ quail and game law is off in this 

 c uuTy from iNuv. 1 to Maruh 15. It may be of interest 

 Ik. your rcaaero tu unow the long season here in Surry 

 oonncy, _ 



