B62 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



pEO. 30, 1898. 



But can this be the same girl? The very same, my dear 

 people. Why, what has she od? Surely it is a bathing 

 skirt. Too true. And an old one, too plain for the sea- 

 shore. And look at the waders, and her shoes, twice the 

 size of those she wore at the last ball, A dark blue Tarn 

 O'Shanter and double-bi-easted jacket complete the rig, 

 and until one knows its usefulness it certainly is grotesque. 



I could give a list here of things to vvear under tliese 

 circumstances, but the whole can be summed up in a few 

 words — plenty of wool, waterproof foot covering, and 

 last, but not least, a true love of the beauty and bounte- 

 ousness of nature. 



Then let the fisherman find some pretty pool, with the 

 hemlocks dipping their odorous boughs and reflecting the 

 soft new liglit of spring in its depths, and give into the 

 hand of his fair companion a light bamboo or lancewood 

 with a short line and a pet fly (each angler has his pet fly, 

 I find) and give her her first lesson in the true sport; and 

 I'll wager it will not be the last, and she wdl have many 

 a good laugh over the experience of that hot day in July 

 when she could not catch a fish. J. B. A. 



Mr. C. H. Gleason sends us an interesting photograph 

 of an outing group, among whom is a lady attired in a 

 dress specially adapted to the woods Our correspondent 

 writes: She is not strong, but delights in the wood life, 

 and so is the sharer of these pleasures with her husband. 

 It may be of interest to other ladies, who wotild like to 

 go and do likewise, to know how a not-over-strong 

 woman can so dress as to be able to take long tramps 

 through the pathless woods, amid windfalls and slippery 

 rocks and swampy ground without inviting a fall, getting 

 the feet wet, and the like. The outfit consists of a soft 

 felt hat, which will not catch ia the limbs and dependent 

 branches; woolen shirt over warm knit underwear; an 

 all-wool knickerbocker suit much like her husband's, 

 warm, comfortable and light withal; good Cordoba n 

 boots. These are made from horsehide, flexible, liglit, 

 impervious to wa,ter (but need to be kept well oiled), bel- 

 lows tongue and lacings, enabling the wearer to pull on 

 and off easily, and so made as to fit tightly to the leg; 

 also hobnailed (but not so many nails as to add much 

 weight to boot), cost about i^lO. Mrs. W., who is mak- 

 ing a long tramp (10 miles) said: "I didn't slip once." 



I wouldn't do without the Forest and Strea:m for 

 four times the amount of the subscription. I have been 

 an almost constant reader of it ever since 1874, and now 

 that I am living on Lake Champlain I simply couldn't get 

 along without it. I am a physician and among my 

 patients is a most enthusiastic fisherwoman and lover of 

 Forest and Stream. In fact, had it not been for the 

 paper, we would no dOubt still be living in Albany, I 

 "chained to practice," she in bed or at most up in a big 

 chair reading of the woods and waters, and both of us 

 swishing we could "go a-fishing." So when her husbond 

 suggested leaving the city and we had talked it over we 

 were all very glad to make the change, and so we came 

 to Ticonderoga. Since being here I have been fighting 

 the net fishing. At one time I could count 30 nets within 

 five miles of this place, but with the help of Mr. Charles 

 Barber, of Greenwich, N. Y., and John Polley, of Ver- 

 mont, the number has been lessened, and I hope before 

 long net fishing in this part of Champlain will be a thing 

 of the past. During the summer months we spend 

 almost all of our time on the water, and what fights we 

 have had with the bass and pickerel! I would like to tell 

 you how my patient with an 8oz. rod hooked and landed 

 a bass weighing 5ilbs. and a sheepshead weighing yjlbs. 

 It was fun. S. 



THE HOG THIEF OF CAMAS PRAIRIE. 



Okanogan, Wash., Nov. 10.— Editor Forest and Stream: 

 Haying had a number off chases after bears, and my ex- 

 perience having been so different from those of my 

 brother sportsmen who have given theirs, if it will not 

 incur the displeasure of "Podgers," I will give you a 

 sketch of a chase a party of us had after a grizzly in 

 Idaho. 



For two years a large grizzly had roamed along the base 

 of the mountains on the east of Camas Prairie, and dur- 

 ing that time he must have destroyed more than a 

 thousand dollars worth of hogs, besides a good many 

 sheep, and almost every farmer offered a reward for his 

 capture. 



The miller at Mt. Idaho had some forty or fifty large 

 hogs which he was fattening for the China trade. Bruin 

 found out where they were and paid them a visit; so the 

 next night, the miller had two men watch for the bear. 

 Along about 10 o'clock the hogs began to stampede, and 

 then one began to squeal; but the bear soon stopped that. 

 The boys were afraid to shoot, fearing that the bear would 

 tear down their scaffold. The next morning one fine fat 

 hog was missing. The miller changed his pig pen. 



Then the bear changed to the other side of the prau-ie, 

 and Ward Girton reported that a bear had killed one of 

 his best sows. Ward not being very rich and having a 

 family, Bruin let up on his hogs and began on Chai-ley 

 Horton's. Horton had lots of hogs, milked lots of cows, 

 fed his pigs on sour milk, had lots of money and was an 

 old bachelor. The bear camped near him until he cleaned 

 him out of the hog ljusiness. 



But Bruin served Bill Stihvell the meanest trick of all. 

 Sttlwell had a big family, three cows and one hog. This 

 hog was a big fellow; he had eaten sour milk nearly all 

 summer. One day a Chinaman came over to Stilwell's 

 and bargained for the hog at 35 cents per pound; and 

 they were to dress the pig in the morning. Next morn- 

 ing Stilwell e-ot up early, put the water on to heat, ground 

 his knife, took his gun and went down to kill his pig. 

 When he got to the pen he found that a couple of rails 

 had been knocked oft' from the top and the bear had left 

 nothing but tracks. He had dragged the hog down into 

 a thicket, and after eating what he wanted" had buried 

 the rest. When Stilwell went back and told his wife she 

 looked and felt very blue, for it was just like losing $75. 

 "Well," said Stilwell, "I will go get Lew to come up and 

 bring Jim, and we will kill that bear to-night." 



Here let me say a word for Jim. He was a brindle cur. 

 I don't know what breed predominated, but he had no 

 equal for hunting big game or varmints. I never put him 

 after a bear, panther, cougar, lynx or wildcat that I did 

 not get up to. The night we were after the grizzly was 

 our first and last defeat. 



StilweU came down, told me what happened and wanted 



to know if I would come. "Certainly," said I, and a little 

 before sundown I took my Winchester caxbine, a .44cal. 

 rim-fire with 24grs, powder — what I lacked in caliber and 

 powder T made up in confidence. 



When I got to his house I put my horse away, ate sup- 

 per and went down to where the bear had buried the hog. 



Stilwell proijosed to build a scaffold. To this I objected. 

 I said that Jim would tree the bear if it could climb; if it 

 could not climb then he would bay it. 



After supper we went down. It had got quite dark 

 when we came near the place. We heard the bear sniff. 

 I told Jim t o catch him. We had a lantern, which we 

 intended to light whenever the chase began. The bear 

 had started to run, but had not got more than 100yds. 

 before .Jim catight him and made it so hot for him that he 

 had to stop. We lit our lantern and started on the run. 

 Jim was barking. I got within about 20yds. of where 

 they were when I fell over a log and knocked the light 

 out. By the time I got the lantern lighted again the bear 

 broke. But from the noise I knew that Jim had hold of 

 him, for he soon stopped again. This time we got within 

 less ithan 15ft. of him, and had a good look at him, but 

 could not shoot for fear of hitting Jim, He soon broke 

 again, but did not get SOj^ds, before Jim stopped him 

 again, but when we would approach with our light he 

 would break. We kept up the chase through tliickets for 

 nearly three miles, when we had to give it up, .Jim was 

 completely exhausted when I called him off. It was after 

 midnight wlien we got back to the house, very tired and 

 completely disgusted. 



But we had worried the bear to such an extent that he 

 changed his range. The next place he was heard of was 

 at Donald McRae's sheep corral on Craig's Mountain. 

 Here he became such a nuisance that the Scotchman 

 changed his range. The bear then paid Jack Crooks a 

 visit and killed one of his biggest hogs. Then he hung up 

 for t.'ie winter. 



That winter some one kflled my dog, but I had raised a 

 thoroughbred setter, given to me by an Englishman who 

 had gone into sheep raising on Camas Prairie; he had 

 brought the su'e and dam from the old country. 



On the 29th of March I went to Mount Idaho, where I 

 met Harry Johnson. He had a rifle in each hand. I 

 hailed him and wanted to know what was the matter. 

 "Well," said he, "the old grizzly has come out and has 

 paid Charley Horton a visit," Charley had bought a very 

 big hog, said to weigh 5901bs. gross, and put him in a rail 

 pen. One night he heard a row out at the pen. He said 

 the bear chased him in to the house, then went back, 

 killed the hog and dragged it over a ten-rail pen, knock- 

 ing off but one rail. The next morning early Charley 

 went down to Ward Girton's; they armed themselves and 

 followed the grizzly up into the snow about half a mile 

 and rousted him out of his bed. But when he reared up 

 he looked so big that Charley and Ward were afraid to 

 shoot and they returned and went after Henry Johnson ; 

 and he came over to Mount Idaho to borrow a couple of 

 rifles. Heni-y said to me, "Come along, we will have some 

 fun to-morrow." ,Jim Curley was as eager for the chase 

 as I. I had traded my carbine for a cayuse, but had a 

 Remington long range in its stead, a .45-77. It was dark 

 when we got to Charley's ranch, where we found him 

 and Henry. They were glad we had come. 



About 9 o'clock the dogs rushed out, but soon came 

 back. We thought the bear had returned to get his sup- 

 per. After a good night's rest,- we were up early and had 

 our breakfast before daylight, so as to have a full day for 

 the chase. Each one took a lunch, and as soon ag it got 

 light enough for us to see we started. We soon found 

 fresh tJiK-.ks. Before starting the boys had put me in for 

 boss, as I was the oldest. When we found the tracks 

 they were going down toward where the bear had buried 

 what he had left of the big hog. I told the boys to go up 

 on to a point of rocks at the snow line; and I would take 

 my dog and follow the tracks; but should they see where 

 the bear had gone back into the snow they were to signal 

 to me. 



It was the first bear my dog had ever been after, but he 

 tracked along as well as any dog could have done. The 

 bear had dug up his cache, but he had eaten very little, 

 and then had struck off east to Jake Crook's ranch, three- 

 quarters of a mile distant. I followed on until within 

 300yds. of the house I saw where he had come back 

 dragging something. I signaled to the boys, who came 

 along the snow line, where we met. AVe had not gone 

 more than a quarter of a mile when we found where he 

 had cached his bacon. The snow was deep, the going 

 heavy. We soon came to where Chai-ley and Ward had 

 jumped him, but he had made his bed under a big fir tree 

 about 200yds. further up the mountain. We got within 

 50yds. of him when he broke; but as he failed to rear up 

 or show fight we put the five dogs after him. Henry and 

 I outran the other two. Henry was ahead of me, and we 

 were running down a steep pitch, when Henry fell down 

 and pitched into the snow almost out of sight. I passed 

 him, and soon saw the bear; the dogs were baying him. 

 I saw him throw Charley's dog more than ten feet. I 

 could not shoot for fear of killing a dog. The bear soon 

 broke, and the dogs wanted to quit. Henry had got the 

 snow out of his gun, and had caught up with me; but 

 soon he took a pain in his side and had to go slow. I 

 kept on as fast as I could. The dogs would quit and come 

 back to me; I would urge them on; then they would rush 

 after the bear, then come back. I soon saw that the only 

 cUance was to keep after the bear until he was tired out, 

 or reached the top of Mount Idaho. Then there were some 

 open glades a half-mile wide and a mile long, and here I 

 expected to get a long-range shot at him. But I intended 

 to follow him all that day, and camp on his trail if neces- 

 sary. 



I had got very hot during the first part of the chase, 

 but had gained my second wind and was making very 

 good time. On crossing a fir flat I saw the bear nearly 

 at the summit. He was wallowing through the snow; 

 his tongue was out and he had all he could do to climb 

 the hill. I raised my rear sight for 400yds. and fired at 

 him. At the crack of the rifle he wheeled around and 

 carne lumbei-ing down on his back track, I lowered my 

 sight, put in another cartridge and started to meet him, 

 for I thought he would bear off round either one way or 

 the other. He soon left his back track an>: started around. 

 When he got opposite to me I whistled. He stopped 

 with his head behmd a smaU fir and 1 shot him through 

 the shoulders just a little forward of the heart. He 

 rolled over dead. Four of the dogs piled on to hira. My 

 setter was as anxious as any of the rest. I let them wool 

 him a little and then made them let go, fearing they 



would hurt the robe. I think it must have been twenty 

 minutes before Henry came up; the first word he uttered 

 was, "Is he dead?" After a moment's survey he proposed 

 we shoot a few times as fast as we could, to make Jim 

 and Charley think we were having a battle. We fired a 

 few shots, but the boys were so far back and so tired 

 that they could not put on much of a spurt. 



We built a good fire and stripped oft" some bark to lie 

 down on before the fire. It must have been nearly an 

 hour before the boys put in an appearance. We told 

 them it had been dead more than an hour and we would 

 have had it skinned had we not wanted them to see him 

 in the original shape. As he had been out of his winter 

 quarters but a few days he was very fat; I think the fat 

 between the hide and carcass was from two to three 

 inches thick. The boys took a fifty-pound flour sack 

 full, which two of them carried on a pole, while the 

 others carried the skin. We reached Charley's house 

 between 3 and 4. tired, hungry and wet. The skin 

 weighed 671b8. and it was the finest robe I ever saw; 

 the long claws were S^in., the tusks were If in. long. The 

 boys gave me the hide and gall; the gall I sold to a China- 

 man for $5, the hide for $15. 



Thus ended the career of the most destructive varmint 

 that ever visited Camas Prairie. Lew Wilmot, 



DUCK SHOOTING IN OREGON. 



George plays the bass violin. In my travels over the 

 United States I have met a great many musicians, and 

 have observed this fact — the man who plavs the big fiddle 

 generally resembles his instrument — and George is no ex- 

 ception to the rule, a great, strapping fellow with a jolly 

 red face and a kindly gray eye, a splendid shot and an 

 honest sportsman. 



When I first met him he was playing in the orchestra 

 of the Portland Theater. I had been looking for some 

 local gunner who knew the "lay" of the country there- 

 about in order to try the duck shooting, for which that 

 section is famous, and some one sent me to George. 



As we are both of the same Bohemian type it did not 

 take long for us to know one another, and we soon ar- 

 ranged an expedition to his private ponds up the river. 



A hunting boat left at about 2 A, M,, so in order to 

 make an early start I shared his room with him that 

 night. A cosy little den it was, too,, just such a one as a 

 man fond of outdoor sports would arrange — nay, not ar- 

 range, for if there was anything the room lacked it was 

 rigid order. A Parker hammerless, two Fox guns and a 

 Marlin rifle graced the gun rack, a moose head, beauti- 

 fully mounted, looked down from over the mantel, and 

 scattered about upon the table were numbers of Forest 

 AND Stream, 



Over our pip^s we chatted and yarned, and I must say 

 I never met a keener or more observant sportsman. He 

 has hunted all through the Northwestern coimtry, fished 

 in all its streams, slept in its mighty forests beneath the 

 blue pines, and only accepts engagements in places where 

 he may indulge in his favorite pursuit. 



Half-past one found us trudging along through the 

 drizzle, comfortably clothed in our waterproof hunting 

 coats and rubber waders, loaded down* with shells and 

 with both pockets filled with canvas decoys. 



The boat was late. Quite a crowd was waiting for it 

 when we reached the wharf. They were the representa- 

 tive sportsmen of Portland, and when I looked at their 

 magnificent hammerless guns I was gla'i that my battle- 

 scarred veteran was in its case. At last the little steamer 

 arrived and was soon wending its way up stream, past 

 high banks of swaying pine and hemlock, skirting tiny 

 islands and running in to the shore now and then to drop 

 some gunner on his one preserve. 



Breakfast in the cabin, although not served d la Del- 

 monico, was excellent bacon and eggs with "steamboat" 

 coffee. (That is a brand you note in the issue of Nov. 11; 

 it has a distinct individuality; in flavor it resembles none 

 that I have ever tasted before, muddy brown in color, 

 will not assimilate with milk, and it never gets too hot to 

 drink — unless you are in a hurry — but with all its pecu- 

 liarities it is good , and I have seen fastidious people drink 

 it with apparent relish.) 



Daylight was just showing, like frosted silver, in the 

 east as we arrived at our landing, so hastily unloading 

 some of our traps and leaving them in the care of the 

 farmer from whom George rents his ponds, we cUmbed 

 over the snake fence and after a short walk reached the 

 blind, an old sturnp with a few branches artistically ai"- 

 ranged before it. George took the punt, which leaked 

 like the proverbial sieve, and poling out a good distance 

 placed the decoys. They were mallards, and the most 

 natural I ever shot over, as you will presently see; every 

 tiny breath of air caused them to swim about as though 

 they were alive. 



On the return voyage the punt sank a short distance 

 from shore, and George waded the rest of the way, tow- 

 ing it after him and making "remarks." Then we 

 lighted our pipes and waited. At the extreme end of 

 the pond a few teal and butterballs were feeding, and 

 now and then a diver would appear from somewhere and 

 straightway go back again. 



They are curious birds; I watched one who swam about 

 a short distance from the blind. It had an expression 

 like Bret Harte's Heathen Chinee, "chilklike and bland," 

 and when it caught sight of me, elevated its alleged eye- 

 brows, looked frightened, ducked and disappeared. 



Three mallards circled in at the upper end of the pond, 

 and, hearing George's call came swooping down to the 

 decoys. I got the leader, a big greenhead, George dropped 

 another, the third wheeled and quartered with a startled 

 quack, and as we both fired, fell wounded into the water, 

 skimmed swiftly across the pond and disappeared in the 

 rushes, leaving a wake behind like a steamboat. The 

 spaniel retrieved the birds, wliich were as fat as possum 

 meat, indeed all the ducks I shot up in that country were 

 in splendid condition. 



A couple of blue wing teal were our next visitors. They 

 settled into the water before we noticed them, and as we 

 rose in the blind they started oft', giving us a good shot; 

 one fell, the other wheeled, and came back to meet its 

 fate from my left barrel. Then came a bunch of mallards; 

 they circled and came in, and just as they were settling- 

 among the decoys we gave it to them. Three responded, 

 George stopped a driver, I caught an incomer, and as 

 the remainder flew off toward the upper end of the pond 

 one left the bunch and, with fluttering wing, settled amid 

 the rushes. George started around to secure it, leaving 

 me alone. 



