270 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Maech 81, 1894. 



terious, the sun-bathed, San Antonio de Bexar, the sphinx 

 of the Southwest. Now that you are there, it is ten to 

 one you can't pronounce the name of the town. On the 

 plains we used to call it "Santone." The city itself, now 

 becoming modern and advanced, prefers a departure from 

 the border days, and calls it San Antonio in full. The 

 Americans speak of Bexar county, Bexar street, Bexar 

 anything — and there is a good deal of Bexar around — as 

 if it were pronounced "Bear." But the Mexican who 

 devoutly dreams away the warm sunshine of the day in 

 front of the ruined missions which speak so plainly of 

 another day, crosses himself and beseeches the good San 

 Antonio de "Bay-ar" to send him success with the senorita 

 whom he loves or the chicken he will fight in to-morrow's 

 cocking main over in the "old town." The man has not 

 yet been found who calls Bexar "Bex-er." 



My friend Dick had never been in San Antonio before, 

 and it was a keen delight for him to walk out in the 

 bright morning air and see the oddly clad greasers, the 

 picturesque niggers and the hardly less picturesque white 

 hangers-on about the depot building. It was all very 

 different from anything of the North. We liked it so 

 well that we [determined we would not go directly on 

 through to the Gulf coast, but would spend a day or two 

 first in San Antonio the blessed, San Antonio the golden 

 — San Antonio, which after a while will be so well known 

 to Northern travelers that it would be thought foolish to 

 spend even so much time as this in writing about it. 



In the first place, we got located at our hotel, and 

 turned the dogs out for a run, which certainly they must 

 have enjoyed after their long ride cooped up like market- 

 bound fowls. Then Dick heaved a sigh of relief as he 

 opened his trunk, mingled with a sigh of regret as he laid 

 aside the trousers fatally injured at Morrillton. After 

 that, we kicked aside our useless overshoes, hung up our 

 overcoats at the hotel and went out for a walk. 



America's Thermopylae. 



History cherishes the story of Thermopylae, and Leoni- 

 das will long remain a good card at country lyceums. But 

 if my memory serves me aright there was one Greek got 

 away at Thermopylae., and it's no cinch a good many of 

 the others wouldn't, if they hadn't been embarrassed by 

 the Persians. Yet here, in this old, un-American town, 

 about which we hear little in history, took place that un-. 

 sung Thermopylae in which there was not one survivor, a 

 battle in which every man of the victims fell a hero, and 

 took with him his pro rata of the enemy. That fight in 

 the stuffy, smoke-filled, shot-riddled old adobe, the old 

 Alamo mission, is not distant enough for us to reverence 

 it. The proof is too tangible. You can see too easily the 

 place where the Mexicans dropped into a heap and burned 

 the bodies of Crockett, Travis, Bowie and their fighting 

 men. They have built a church on that place. When the 

 church has fallen in ruins will be time enough, perhaps, 

 to begin to think about the Alamo and the men who de- 

 fended it, and who helped give Texas to the Union. 



Had Sustained a Loss. 



Dick and I visited the old plaza where once the chile 

 girls held their midnight fires, but here we met a disap- 

 pointment, and found the town had sustained a loss. The 

 chile girls had moved to another plaza, and Martha, the 

 chile queen of four years ago, was gone, deposed, lost — in 

 short, married. Another chile queen had arisen, Sadie 

 yclept, who scorned to sell chile out of doors at midnight, 

 and who actually had a chile restaurant up on the Alamo 

 plaza. Thither, then, that evening. 



But about the chile pastime and the chile queen as about 

 many things in San Antonio and elsewhere, I must write 

 later, promising faithfulness. It grieves me to reflect 

 that we have not killed a single thing in this article — ex- 

 cept the Mexicans at the Alamo, who had been dead — 

 but I promise that from now on this story shall become 

 bloodier and bloodier, and in parts shall fairly reek with 

 gore. 



I can hardly help stopping to write about our chile 

 soiree at the casd de la Reina de chile Sadie. You see, 

 the new chile queen was called Sadie. Dick had never 

 seen a chile queen, and wouldn't have known one from 

 Adam. Indeed, I imagine that a great many people don't 

 know what that unique being, a chile queen, is; neither 

 do they know what a chile supper is. But it takes time 

 to tell all these things. For instance, as I was saying, 



when Dick E. Hough. 



009 Security Building, Chicago. 



A TRIP FOR MEAT. 



Columbia Falls, Mont., Jan. 17.— On Dec. 4 Jack, the 

 Young Person and I started from Coram on the morning 

 train for Belton to get a little meat for winter use, for, be 

 it known, that dried venison is a favorite of mine, with 

 milk gravy or any other way. We had shipped the boat 

 the day before, and on arrival at B. found the craft in 

 good shape. We had to drag it over snow about 50yds. 

 to the river, and after loading in bedding, provisions, etc., 

 we started to float down the stream for Columbia Falls, a 

 distance of about 20 miles. Jack was provided with a 

 .50-95, the Y. P. with a .40-60, and I had my old .45-60. 



About two and a half miles below Belton we stopped to 

 investigate a small island. J, strayed off to the right. I 

 went north from the river, and the Y. P. started for a 

 small rapid above where we landed, in order to get a few 

 trout if possible, but without any success. In about 20 

 minutes I heard the "mountain howitzer" roar four or 

 five times, and then Jack's signal. Got to him in about 

 15 minutes and learned he had wounded a doe, which had 

 taken to the river and swam out of sight around a bend. 

 I have forgotten to mention the most important part of 

 the outfit, Jack's dog Nigger, than which there is no 

 gamer dog on earth. Of the five mountain lions Jack 

 has killed this fall and winter Nig has treed four, and 

 tackles them at any time or place, without fear of the 

 consequences. 



On getting around the bend we saw the doe standing on 

 a gravel bar and chased her about forty rods; she then 

 took the water to swim ashore, and when she got ashore I 

 finished her with a shot that broke her back. On her run 

 she started two more deer that escaped. 



Two miles below where we captured the first one we 

 saw another deer on a small point at the foot of a rapid. 

 The Y. P. was in the bow, Jack in the middle and I was 

 paddling and steering. We were still as mice and got 

 within 100yds. before she noticed us, and there she stood 

 and looked at us until we were within 60 or 70yds. I 

 fired two shots at her, Jack two and the boy three, and the 



last shot he downed her. We put in to shore, and just be- 

 fore landing out jumped her fawn and started along the 

 side of the hill. I take the credit of stopping him. Having 

 cleaned these we loaded them in and started on. 



On a point where the North Fork joins the Middle Fork 

 we saw two more deer, and as we intended to stop here 

 for the night in a trapper's cabin we drifted down as 

 slowly and quietly as possible. When within about 80yds. 

 they started and Jack turned the moutain howitzer on 

 them. In the intervals the boy was getting in his work 

 with the .40-60, and your uncle occasionally swelled the 

 chorus with the .45.. They ran 200yds. to the bank of the 

 North Fork, turned to run up the stream, when one of 

 them took to the water and swam across, ran a few yards 

 and laid down. Jack got out on the point with Nig and 

 ran to where this one had crossed; the other kept up the 

 North fork, uninjured, at least we saw no blood. We put 

 Nig across after the one that was lying down, but on his 

 approach up she jumped and started down the river. 

 Jack stopped her with ease about 100yds. away. 



We carried the dunnage up to the cabin, unpacked, and 

 while the boy and I were getting wood, Jack ran the cul- 

 inary department. In about half an hour we gathered 

 round the fireplace to a meal of venison, light bread, but- 

 ter, coffee, pickles, cookies and milk. 



Just after dark it began to rain, and kept it up until 12 

 M. next day. After dinner we started, and after passing 

 a bad rapid Jack got out to walk a short distance, and in- 

 side of 100yds. knocked over a towhead. We now con- 

 cluded that we had meat enough, and set sail for Coram, 

 reaching Jack's house about 4 P. M., and next morning 

 started for Columbia Falls. 



We could have killed a dozen more deer if we had 

 wanted to, but we had enough, and quit. By the way, let 

 me mention that if any one imagines he can drive center 

 in 100yds., standing or sitting in a boat on the streams in 

 this part of the world, he must do finer work than I have 

 seen done by any one up to date. 



Since writing you before, Jack has killed another moun- 

 tain lion, making five, and saw tracks of two more. He 

 has the greatest dog I ever saw. Don't seem to be afraid 

 of anything. H. H. G. 



AN OLD-TIMER ON THE PARK. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



By reports in the papers I see that the annual assault is 

 being made on the Yellowstone National Park in a bill 

 before Congress, granting right of way to a railroad 

 through it, this time from a new direction and from a 

 new motive. Heretofore it has been alleged that the 

 Cooke City mines could only be reached by a railroad via 

 the East Fork of the Yellowstone and Soda Butte Creek. 

 Now the proposition seems to be to run a railroad into and 

 across the Park for the accommodation of tourists, etc. 



Now, it is a singular fact that the applicants for all such 

 franchises in this country are parties who could not build 

 a railroad ten miles long even if they could obtain per- 

 mission from Congress to do so, but would probably try to 

 sell out to some company able to build the road. It is 

 quite common in this country for parties to get right of 

 way over some route which will be likely to be of value in 

 the near future, and to make a preliminary survey and 

 make a little show of work and then wait for some com- 

 pany to buy them out; failing this the whole scheme drops 

 out of sight. The great trans-continental fines have been 

 greatly embarrassed in this way, and it would be well for 

 our law-makers to bear this in mind and refrain from 

 granting exclusive privileges unless the grantees are able 

 to do the work, or else prohibit the transfer to another 

 party. 



Now every man in this country believes that the miners 

 of the new world (Cooke City) district should have a rail- 

 road as soon as possible, as many of them were there 

 long before the National Park was thought of as such; 

 and went there young and vigorous men, and are still 

 there representing their mines, even though they have 

 grown old and gray waiting, never losing faith in ultimate 

 success. But even these men are beginning to look to the 

 East instead of the West for an outlet. Now the route 

 via Clark's Fork to connect with the N. P. or any other 

 road is but little longer, and doubtless just as good, as 

 that by way of East Fork and Cinnabar, and has many 

 advantages which the other has not. It would not be 

 confined to connection with the Northern Pacific only 

 and would open new fields of coal and other minerals. 

 Besides, the Northern Pacific is not now in condition to 

 extend its lines or build new ones, while the Burlington 

 and Northwestern are both reaching out into this country 

 and are not financially embarrassed. 



In the past, all attacks on the Park have been met and 

 defeated by its friends in the East, and we confidently 

 look to them for its future protection. They are too far 

 away to be interested in its spoliation, and men who have 

 lived for years in the midst of the sublimest scenery are 

 not so alive to its grandeur and beauty as are people from 

 the East, to whom it is entirely new. To the old-timer it 

 has become commonplace and he cares less for its preser- 

 vation, and considers it only for its commercial aspect. 



Now the facts are, that the Park has not in itself been 

 made more attractive by the carriage roads, hotels, etc. , 

 constructed there, but it has been made accessible to a 

 class of tourists who without them could never have gazed 

 on its wonders. But I will leave it to any one who visited 

 the region twenty years ago, before any roads were made 

 or houses built, when all was as nature formed it, to say 

 if it was not more attractive then than now. On the other 

 hand, we know that good hotels and good roads are a 

 necessity for Eastern and European visitors. 



Friends of the Park who knew the true condition of 

 things, have always insisted that a railroad through the 

 Park would drive all buffalo, elk and other large game 

 away, and that in a few years all the animals of that class 

 that are left will be those protected by the Government. 



But there is one thing in the management of the Park 

 that is wrong, and that is that the national pleasure 

 ground is becoming too much the private property of the 

 licensed transportation companies and hotel syndicates, 

 and many people of limited means are deprived of the 

 pleasure of visiting the Park by reason of the exorbitant 

 charges at the hotels and for transportation. The regula- 

 tions should be such that people could hire any one to 

 carry them through the Park so long as they obey the 

 laws concerning it and abstain from mischief. I believe 

 that most of the acts of vandalism committed in the Park 

 have been done by those whose wealth or official position 

 has caused their acts to pass unnoticed. 



The regulations should be as liberal as possible, for 



while all people are taxed for its maintenance but a small 

 percentage visit the Park, and it is very unpleasant for 

 many who do so to be constantly under military surveil- 

 lance, and military, and the military in charge should be 

 as strictly prohibited from destroying game as ate the 

 citizens visiting it. Pioneer. 



THE CAPTURE OF HOWELL. 



WE published last week a brief telegram, announcing 

 the capture of the notorious poacher Howell with the 

 skins and hides of ten of the National Park buffalo which 

 he had killed near Astringent Creek, in the Hay den Val- 

 ley. This news was exclusively for the Forest and 

 Stream, none of the other papers, either daily or weekly, 

 having learned of it, but two or three days after its publi- 

 cation in Forest and Stream, a general press despatch 

 appeared in all the papers, announcing that hunters were 

 committing depredations in the Park and explaining that 

 this was due to the laxness of Congress in failing to pro- 

 vided any law by which such depredations can be pun- 

 ished. 



As stated in the Forest and Stream, the capture was 

 made by Burgess, the Park scout, and a full and detailed 

 accout of it will shortly appear. In the meantime we are 

 able to give some facts connected with the capture which 

 cannot fail to be of interest. 



On Tuesday, March 13, in obedience to orders received 

 from Capt. George S. Anderson, Burgess left the Lake 

 Hotel for the Pelican Creek, traveling of course on snow^ 

 Bhoes. That night he spent not far from Broad Creek and 

 a few miles northwest of Fern Lake. Early the next 

 morning, very soon after starting out, he struck an old 

 trail of snow-shoes, and following it up stumbled upon a 

 cache of six buffalo scalps and six skins, from three of 

 which the hair had been partially removed as if for the 

 manufacture of rawhide. He took this plunder in and 

 passed on to the south until he had come near the mouth 

 of the Astringent Creek, where he again struck a snow- 

 shoe trail, this time freshfy made. Following it up he 

 came to the lodge belonging to the traveler, which was 

 pitched about two miles northwest of the mouth of the 

 Astringent Creek. While waiting here Burgess heard 

 some shots, and soon located his man, whom he found on 

 the north bank of Pelican Creek, about one mile west of 

 the Astringent Creek. 



The man was busy skinning a buffalo, and five of these 

 animals lay about him. Burgess rushed upon him, and 

 Howell was so occupied with his work that he did not see 

 his captor until he was close to him. He had no time to 

 think about making any resistance, but threw up his 

 hands at once. Burgess brought him in and reached the 

 guard house at Fort Sheridan at about 4:30 on Wednesday, 

 March 14. Howell is now confined there, and will no 

 doubt remain nntil news has been received from Wash- 

 ington as to what is to be done with him. 



A party from the post was at that time at the lake, and 

 at the date of our advices were about to begin to bring in 

 the plunder. 



There have been at least eleven buffalo killed and no 

 one knows how many more. It is certain that Howell 

 has been in the Park several times during the winter, and 

 it is not very unlikely that he may have killed a large 

 number of these animals. It is evident that unless some- 

 thing is done at once to make poaching a crime, the Yel- 

 lowstone Park buffalo will very soon be wholly exter- 

 minated. 



WHERE ARE WE AT? 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



"Coahoma's" recent animadversions on the snake killer as 

 approved by Forest and Stream, the sportsman's arbiter, 

 brings us to that point where we must stop and study the 

 compass of life and try to determine where we, as sports- 

 men, are at. This is evidenced by the interest manifested 

 by readers of Forest and Stream in the issue just at 

 hand. 



It is no new subject, for in every thoughtful sports- 

 man's mind there rises now and then, like Banquo's 

 ghost, the question: What place does the sportsman 

 occupy in the great problem of life? It will not down, 

 and we are forced to contemplate it whether we would 

 or not. 



Man with a show of reason assumes superiority over all 

 other creatures and by that assumption he further assumes 

 a terrible responsibility, the responsibility of the con- 

 queror in his treatment of the conquered; the responsi- 

 bility of him to whom is given the power to say to one: 

 thou mayest live: unto the other; thou shalt die. That 

 responsibility that assumes the arbitration of matters in- 

 volving life and death. Reflections pertaining to this 

 subject cannot come under your ban, "political or 

 religious." They are close to the sportsman's heart and 

 he is still entitled to know , his true^place if anybody can 

 teach him. 



This undefined, semi-dormant desire manifests itself on 

 every page of Forest and Stream, as every observant 

 reader knows. We read between the lines if not in them 

 this desire for enlightenment. Naturally as sportsmen 

 grow older and become stiffened with rheumatism, the 

 witchery and glamour of the chase abates. When the fires 

 of life begin to burn low and the light in the eye grows dim , 

 it is then that we stop and take our bearings and begin to 

 ask serious questions. Seldom do we see the red-cheeked 

 boy with a rod or gun in his hands handicap himself with 

 any such embarrassing reflections. He steps from the 

 cradle inspired with high resolves to kill and destroy the 

 lower orders of life mercilessly, and to wage a war of ex- 

 termination against snakes, spiders and "injuns" in par- 

 ticular. When confronted with the proposition that even 

 the least of God's creatures have been created for a pur- 

 pose, and have some rights and certain priveleges, he falls 

 back on the Bible admonition, "and thou shalt bruise his 

 head," in the matter of snakes, and rests his cause 

 against other forms of life on assumptions, extremely 

 vague it is true, but all founded on the general declara- 

 tion that all things are created for his use, benefit and 

 pleasure. He tells us that the big fish are made to eat the 

 little ones, because they do eat them, and Dean Swift 

 only reverses the anatomical allegory when he declared: 

 "a flea 



Has smaller fleas that on him prey; 

 And these have smaller still to bite 'em, 

 And so proceed ad infinitum," 



but all going to show that "the course of nature seems a 

 course of death." 



