Dec. 30, 1893.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



B67 



The brute hesitated an instant and then came the charge. 

 But the side hill was steep and and the bear in spite of his 

 efforts swung down and then tumbled into a heap about 

 lOOvds. below. Before I reached him another shot went 

 through his skull and I found a man from a neighboring 

 camp watching the grizzly die. He did not claim the 

 carcass and I gave him a piece of the meat, saving the 

 hide for a noble rug. 



The next morning we secured a deer. Chickens (willow 

 gi'ouse and western ruffed grouse) were abundant and the 

 sportsman could not wish a more attractive spot. Ic 

 seems to me that bears are more numerous in the Wasatch 

 than in any other settled portion of the West. 



Early in August we went fifty mUes further— to Straw- 

 berry Valley on the eastern edge of the Uintah reserva- 

 tion. Here the trout fishing was fairly good and there 

 was a moderate supply of game. This valley is a favorite 

 camping spot for those who have several weeks at their 

 disposal. Shosho2se. 



THE BOY, THE BOSTONIAN, THE BULL. 



The title does not give the impression that this is a fishing yarn, 

 but that is what it is. 



Nine times out of ten when the joUy angler takes up 

 his pen it is to regale you with a stirring account of some 

 fierce battle waged with the spUt-bamboo against the 

 gamy bass or trout, or perchance the lordly salmon, but 

 once in a while you stumble across a good old-fashioned 

 yarn in which the thick-headed sucker, the "beastly little 

 Sim perch," as an Englisli friend of mine calls them, and 

 the "homely, but good," catfish gets a hearing. This is 

 one. 



Of late years the fly-rod and artistic angling appeal 

 very pleasantly to my sense of enjoyment, but I guess 

 I had just as much fun when as a boy I fished — just plain 

 fished — and used a "pole." I don't even blush as some do 

 when I recall those days, for I havn't the slightest doubt 

 but that little Ikey Walton made a beginning with a 

 string and bent pin for tackle. 



It was a good many years ago that I made my last 

 raid on the succulent little NeW England catfish, but the 

 details of that trip still occupy a very fresh and green 

 spot in my memory. There was a visitor in the house at 

 the time— a young man who hailed from the classic 

 shadows of Baston. Mr. F., as we will call him. had 

 just about gotten rid of twenty-one years of his ailoted 

 days and was at this time passing through tiie "know it 

 all" period of his life — a time of sore afiiiction for all his 

 friends— yet not without hope, for very few cases of this 

 kind prove fatal. He always impressed me with the idea 

 that he considered tlie rest of humanity, as a door-mat 

 designed for his especial use and he didn't try to conceal 

 the fact that he considered boys of fifteen of very little 

 account. That hit me. 



He was so green, however, as concerned those things 

 most familiar to country boys that with voiy little assist- 

 ance he managed to get himself into all sorts of uncom- 

 fortable scrapes, and at such times I usually got around 

 in time to enjoy his discomfiture. One day he expressed 

 a desire to inspect the pigeon loft, which was located 

 directly over the piggery, so I placed a ladder in position, 

 and up he went. The door to the loft was right over the 

 door to the pig-pen, and just as F. was about to descend I 

 opened the door and stampeded the occupants of the sty. 

 One sturdy poi-ker caught the lower rung of the ladder 

 under his snout when F. was about one-third of the way 

 down. Something tumbled. When the last piggie had 

 gamboled over Jiis prostrate form F, arose and consigned 

 the ladder, the pigs, myself and everything else within 

 sight to a place that the "King James edition" don't call 

 Hades. 



It was as a peace offermg for this bit of cussedness of 

 mine that I invited him to go fishing with me. He ac- 

 cepted the olive branch and I at once set about getting 

 things in readiness for an early start on the morrow— in 

 fact, I usually was the working partner whenever F. and 

 I did anything together. After fixing up two sets of 

 tackle I took the spade and went out to dig for angle- 

 worms. The earth was as dry as powder and I spaded up 

 nearly half an acre of cabbage bed before I secured a 

 sufficient supply of bait. Then I set the can very care- 

 fully down upon the seat of a rustic bench and went to 

 put the spade away. When I returned again I found a 

 conglomerate mass of Shanghais, Cochin-Chinas,Plymouth 

 Rocks and Leghorns engaged in a rough and tumble over 

 those worms. After driving them oil I found that they 

 had considerately left the can, so I got out the shovel and 

 rounded up another half-acre of ground. 



Early the next morning I got into mv fishing clothes 

 and then proceeded to get F. properly dressed for such a 

 jaunt. The most difiicult problem was how to dress his 

 feet. F. was not exactly massive, and he had the smallest 

 feet I ever saw on any man who vvasn't in the Tom 

 Thumb line. They were his greatest pride, and he always 

 dressed them most daintily; but as we were bound for 

 the boggiest, muddiest, roughest piece of land in the 

 entire township I told him that none of his footgear would 

 do and that he must wear a pair of rubber boots. That 

 about broke up the trip. Finally he consented to wear a 

 pair of my uncle's boots. Tiiey were not what one would 

 call a snug fit, in fact, he could almost have gotten both 

 of his feet and legs into one boot, but with a few news- 

 papers tucked into the toes he could keep them on very 

 well, provided he was careful as to how |lie walked. An 

 old coat, also my uncle's, and fitting liim quite as well as 

 the boots, completed his list of borrowed finery. He 

 looked quite picturesque, but I thought it just as well not 

 to let him get in front of any mirror in getting him' out 

 of the house. We hitched old Buckskin to the side-bar. 

 and stowing away our lunch and tackle, off we started. 1 

 knew almost to a minute how long we should be on the 

 road, for the old horse was born with but one pace — a 

 comfortable ti-ot— and neither beating nor coaxing could 

 move him one bit faster. Before we got out of the village 

 we met several fair maids, with whom F. was acquainted 

 — in fact every one seemed to be astir at an abnormally 

 early hour that morning — and taking the cue from sundry 

 smiles which illuminated the faces of all as we passed, 

 it began to dawn upon F. that he must be cutting a very 

 comical figure. At fii-st he tried to hide thn. boots, but 

 soon discovered that they were not built for any such 

 games as "hide and seek" and "button, button; who's got 

 the button?" Then he begged me to run the horse until 

 we got out of the town, and when I expl iin^d old Buck- 

 skin's peculiarities to him, he said some real harsh things 

 about the poor beast. His complexion also became a 



trifle lurid during the ordeal, but he was pretty nearly in 

 a normal condition again when about half an' hour later 

 we reached the farmhouse where I always put up my horse 

 on these trips. 



Half a mile or so back from the house ran the stream 

 which was our objective point. Usually half a mile 

 doesn't look such a very long stretch, but this half mile 

 consisted of about half and half of the roughest kind of 

 pasture l&nd- and the softest kind of swamp, and was 

 about as exhausting as a six-days' walkinrc match. F. and 

 the boots had a rough and tumble all the way through the 

 pasture, and truth compels me to say that the boots were 

 on top a goodly portion of the trip^ but then F. spent a 

 good deal of the time in watching a herd of cattle that 

 were grazing in a remote corner of the pasture, so the 

 boots had it pretty much all their own way. F. didn't 

 care much for beef on the hoof. I also kept my weather 

 eye on the herd, for while 1 dared not mention the fact, I 

 knew that that particular bunch of cattle was governed 

 by one of the most cantankerous old bulls that ever trod 

 the turf. Twice had he chased me so vigorously that I 

 only escaped into the swamp by some very tall sprinting. 

 There I could jump from tuft to tuft of swamp grass, but 

 he would get mired before he had gone ten feet. Before 

 notifying his owner of his condition I found it very com- 

 forting to prod him in the ribs a few times with the butt 

 of my fishing rod. It usually took a yoke of oxen and 

 half an hour's work to extricate him, but he didn't seem 

 to profit much by experience and was just as cussed the 

 next time. F. and I were in luck, however, and reached 

 the swamp in safety. 



Then the fun began. It required the jumping powers 

 of a kangaroo combined with the balancing abilities of a 

 Blondin to get along in that swamp without mishap, and 

 as F.'s accomplishments were of a very different order, 

 and the boots were just getting warmed up to their work, 

 he inanaged to give a most entertaining performance. 

 With great effort he balanced himself on a shaky bunch 

 of grass, and gradually worked his feet as far up 'into the 

 toes of his boots as they would go. Then he jumped. 

 He landed the toes of his boots on the bunch of grass he 

 was trying for, but as his feet bad by this time retreated 

 to the heels of the No. 9"s again the toes didn't hold, and 

 he made his real lauding on the pit of his stomach, but 

 fortimately across the grass, and not in the mire. He 

 didn't seem to appreciate this stroke of luck, however. 

 His Ijoots were imbedded nearly a foot in the mud, but 

 his lower extremities had escaped from them in some 

 way, so he very cautiously turned himself over, assumed 

 a sitting posture, excavated the boots and got into them 

 again. Then he began the act all over again, and it was 

 in this manner, with occasional variations, that he finally 

 got to our fishing ground. I gave him the biggest and 

 steadiest bunch of grass I could find, showed him how to 

 bait his hook, and in a few moments we were fishing. 



We had scarcely wet our hues, however, when F. had a 

 bite. Giving his rod a mighty swish through the air, he 

 hurled an innocent little catfish, who let go as soon as he 

 could, fifty feet or more back into the swamp. His sport- 

 ing blood was aroused now, and before I could tell him 

 that it wouldn't pay to go into the swamp after the fish, 

 he gave a yell of exultation and started pell mell after it 

 with as little caution as he might exercise in promenading 

 up Beacon street. He left his boots at about the second 

 stride, but I don't think he missed them until he started to 

 return. I yelled to him to look out for the horns, and he 

 asked where they were. I told him that they were 

 located on either side of its head, and he immediately 

 grasped it by the tail. He couldn't have pleased the little 

 fellow better, and it at once showed its appreciation by 

 giving a most vigorous flop, which imbedded a horn quite 

 deeply in his hand. He dropped it, and made a few 

 remarks the like of which all good books record only by 

 a series of dashes. By this time he was pretty nearly hull 

 down in the mud, so scooping the fish into his hat he 

 began the return trip. The excitement of the chase being 

 now eliminated, he found it devoid of all pleasure and 

 demnition hard work, especially when he found himself 

 bootless. He floundered about desperately for a few 

 moments, and finally went flat on his back in the mud. 

 I had given up fishing and was devoting my time to 

 watching his antics, and at this juncture I went to his 

 rescue. His language was of a very florid type, and he 

 insisted upon returning home at once. He was company, 

 so that settled it, and home we started. 



Retracing our steps through the swamp was only a 

 repetition of what had occurred in coming into it except 

 that F. was pretty tired and very much madder, which 

 served to make things harder for him. But the climax 

 was not capped until we were out of the swamp. It was 



then that I spied Farmer 's buU parading up and 



down and waiting impatiently for us. F. saw him at the 

 same moment, I guess, for as I tm-ned to speak to him I 

 discovered him executing a most precipitate retreat, but 

 he was already so used up that he got mired before he had 

 gone 20ft. His run, however, short as it was, stirred up 

 his buUship a good deal. He bellowed and pawed and 

 lashed his tail and made himself generally disagreeable, 

 and for a few moments it looked as if he would bolt into 

 the swamp, but he didn't quite dare or he wasn't quite 

 mad enough; yet I braced F. up a bit and when he had 

 gotten his breathing apparatus in working order again, I 

 told him that I would lure the animal away from him 

 and that he must watch his opportunity and get out as 

 quickly and quietly as possible. He accepted the proposi- 

 tion so quickly and with such a matter of fact air, that I 

 felt inclined to let him perch for an hour or so on a bunch 

 of swamp grass before helping him out, but I thought 

 better of it and soon had his bovine majesty 100yds. or 

 more away. 



Then F. began his retreat. He was marvelously lively 

 for so tired a man. but he had scarcely cleared the swamp 

 when the bull suddenly remembered him. It was a hot 

 chase. F. went down once or twice and left one boot 

 behind, but he ran like a sprinter and had nearly 6in. to 

 spare as he w ent over the stone wall of the pasture. Then 

 he climbed an apple ti-ee which grew close to the wall 

 and amused the bull by throwing green apples at him 

 while I gathered in the boot and reached a place of safety 

 myself. When F. had cooled down a bit he showed a 

 great disinclination to return home before dark— he didn't 

 care to have the townspeople think that he had taken to 

 modeling in clay or had gone into the mud pie business. 

 After some discussion I got him to go to the farmhouse, 

 where he spent the balance of the day scraping off mud 

 and drying himself out. I went back and fished. 



After several "shades of night" had fallen we entered 



town most unostentatiously. F. swore that he would 

 never eat fish again, but I told him that it seemed to me 

 that it was beef that he should forswear against. 



W. B. A. 



TWO WILD ANIMAL STORIES. 



I. 



Some yeai's ago, while living in Virginia, I was visiting 

 a friend who lived pretty well up among the Blue Ridge 

 Motmtains, I had been out all day after small game, when 

 nightfall found me several miles from home. With a full 

 game bag and not another loaded shell left, I started 

 down the mountain feeling pretty well satisfied with my 

 day's tramp, when I fancied I heard some animal follow- 

 ing me. It was quite dark by this time and I was walk- 

 ing along a rough path partly overhung by scrub oak, etc. 

 When I would stop to listen, whatever it was following 

 would stop also. But as I walked I could hear the leaves^ 

 rustle and sticks snap, and once a stone w^as knocked 

 from its place and went rolling down. I knew bears were 

 about as I had several times during the day noticed their 

 signs on ground and trees, still I did not beUeve it could 

 be a bear after me, but perhaps some stray dog. As the 

 houses were very few and far between it could not be cat- 

 tle. After some two miles of rapid walking, as the thing 

 was still heard behind, I admit I got well scared. I had 

 stopped several times to let it catch up or pass by, and 

 called and whistled in hopes that it might turn out to be a 

 dog, but although it came near enough for me to hear it 

 breathe I could not see it in the darkness. What could it 

 be? and oh, if the old gun were only loaded. 



As I knew my way well, I tried a run until I was puff- 

 ing like a grampus; but still I could hear it come tearing 

 along after me, and once in a clear spot I thought I could 

 distinguish an animal which looked like a b^ar. Shall I 

 climb a tree? No, not yet. But by this time I was pretty 

 well frightened. Anything was better than being fol- 

 lowed by that old puft' and blow behind, so I felt for some 

 stones and found three as large as my fist; then I ran as 

 hard as I could pelt, and pulled up quickly where there 

 was a clear place, and soon I can hear him, she or it scuf- 

 fling along. This time it must have thought I was far 

 ahead. Any way, I could just distinguish something 

 black about 10ft. from me. With a yell I let fly a stone, 

 and as luck would have it knocked it over. But in a sec- 

 ond it was on its feet, squealing and dashing down the 

 hillside. When it let out that squeal I knew it must be a 

 hog of some kind: so lit a match and soon saw by the 

 tracks that a hog it was. But I own up that I felt very 

 much relieved; and on getting to my friend's home I said 

 nothing about my adventure. 



The next morning I heard my friend Parsons asking 

 one of his help what had become of the old black sow. 

 "Why. boss," was the answer, "dat hog done broke out 

 day befo' yesterday, and I reckon she is done gone to look 

 for that mess of hogs of Sir. B.'s." Well, well, so my 

 bear was an old sow looking up a mate. 



Brya:^ the Still-Hdnter. 



Irving, Michigan. 



11. 



Supper over I repair to my den for a quiet smoke. The 

 wind is howling dismally and Jack Frost is out on a nip- 

 ping trip. After stirring the fire in the grate I draw the 

 curtains and pick up my last Forest and Stream to see if 

 I have missed anything. Then I take down from the case 

 "Sam Level's Camps" and turn to the place where 

 Antwine fooled them with "heel." After enjoying a 

 good laugh at Sam's expense I fell to dreaming. Again I 

 am a boy at school, tlie last days of wdiich are near at 

 hand, and the long summer vacation is before. Arrange- 

 ments have been made that I should spend part of the 

 vacation with a friend of my father in the western part 

 of the State. I have been at the home of Mr. Hazzard 

 for a few days when who should walk in but one of my 

 schoolmates, who also had been invited to spend vacation 

 here. Well, that settled it. We both had breechloaders, 

 and as our host kindly put his powder and shot at our 

 disposal, we were in clover. That evening our host had 

 regaled us with stories of his frontier life, and ended by 

 telling us that three wildcats had been killed neai* his 

 place that spring, and for us to be on the lookout for 

 another that had been seen only a short time before our 

 arrival. 



The next morning with lunches stowed away in coat 

 pockets we stated for Rattlesnake Gulch in quest of quail 

 or chicken, "for everything went in those days and at 

 any season." We had tramped up one gulch, down an- 

 other along the creek and across the prairie and nothing 

 had been seen but larks and field birds. It was getting 

 well along in the afternoon and we were on our way 

 home, when up flew a chicken from under our feet so un- 

 expectedly that we were both rattled. Nevertheless we 

 blazed away, and still the chicken flew on — a clean miss 

 for us both. As the house was only a short distance away 

 we decided to cross over the creek and go home, as we 

 were both tired out. Knowing there was a board fence a 

 Fhort distance below where we could cross, we started for 

 that point. 



AVhile going through a dense thicket of plum trees we 

 heard a noise we could not account for, and at once put it 

 down as that "wild cat." That took all the sand we ever 

 had out of us. and we started on a dead run for that fence, 

 all the time fancying that the "cat" was close upon us. I 

 was behind, not being as good a sprinter as my friend. 

 He reached the fence first ajid was soon across; I tossed 

 my gun to him and commenced lowering myself over the 

 bank which here overhung the fence and soon was part 

 way across, when a most unearthly yell seemed to come 

 from under that bank and a great floundering in the 

 water. Well, I was so scared I just let go of everything 

 and fell over backward into the shallow water and mud. 

 I had hardly struck the mud when something came rush- 

 ing through the water and over me; I thought ray time 

 was up. I lay there for a few seconds afraid to move, 

 then slowly raising mvself, I crawled up the bank and 

 there lay my companion just bursting with laughter. 



It seems that an old sow with her young had taken 

 refuge under the bank from the hot June sun, and in 

 crossing we had scared them as badly as they had us. 

 And that was the "wfld cat ' that had caused my mud 

 bath and no end of chatfing when we arrived at the 

 house. Diamond Walt. 



EsETBB, Neb. 



