April 25, 1896.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
333 
sould not distinguish accurately if it presented the broad, 
triangular characteristics of the rattlesnake and water 
mocca8iD, both of ■which species I have also encountered 
here. The head, however, so far as I could judge, seemed 
to have the shape usually ascribed to venomous kinds. 
The majority of the natives and old settlers here say the 
ohief danger of this species lies in its tail, and I hear va- 
rious accounts of injuries inflicted by this sting upon 
mimals as well as human beings, but can trace no fatal 
results therefrom, 
I understand that this snake is invariably found in the 
)pen country. It evidently grows to a large size, as one 
was brought into town a year ago that measured between 
Ll and 12ft. in length. 
If possible I shall obtain a perfect specimen, or its skin 
it least, to bring with me on my return to the North. 
I bad a good opportunity to notice to-day this fellow's 
maneuvers, and it certainly apppared to me that the tail 
was used as a weapon. Leonard G. Sanford. 
[From the description we imagine that this may have 
been a specimen of Farancia abacura, one of the Coluhrine 
hon- venomous) snakes. A specimen would determine the 
snake's systematic position.] 
Bird Notes. 
Sheldon, Vt., April 15. — Editor Forrest and Stream: 
[ saw the following birds here for the first time this sea- 
son: 
March 30, song spai-row; March 31, robin; April 11, 
shipping sparrow; April 14, pigeon woodpecker (high 
hole). No bluebirds as yet. 
On April 11 1 saw a robin curiously marked. Its larger 
wing coverts were white, so when its wings were closed 
it made on its baci£ a perfect white "V," Several of its 
middle tail feathers were also white. Stanstead. 
Searsburg, N. Y., April IS.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: I found a song sparrow's nest yesterday, the 
earliest I have ever found in this latitude; also saw a 
woodcock to-day, he is at least two weeks ahead of time. 
Partridge are drumming; they promise to be plentiful 
with us this fall. Hector. 
Indian Rock, Me., April 16.— I saw a crow blackbird 
yesterday, also one fish hawk, the first that I have seen 
his season. Saw a pair of gulls to-day and heard a par- 
tridge drum; I think he must have found a stump or a 
log some distance from the ground, as the snow is nearly 
tit. deep in the woods. C. T. Richardson. 
Watertown, N. Y., April 18 — Editor Forest and 
Stream: I am unable to find bluebirds in this locality. 
A. 
Weights of Moose. 
I have killed between thirty and thirty-five moose in 
toy twenty years of lumbering, but never killed one that 
would weigh 7001bs. I once killed a bull whose head 
measured from end of nose to butt of ear 5ft. His horns 
had fallen off and he was in poor condition, he did not 
weigh 7001bs. So the old State of Maine, so far as its 
Moose goes, is away far ahead of New Brunswick, pro- 
vided the hunters give 16oz. to the pound. J. Mowat. 
Camfbellton, New Brunswick. 
%nie Jj?## and %wu 
A WET DEER HUNT IN ARKANSAS. 
Five of us were on a camp hunt in the White River 
bottoms of Woodruff county, Arkansas, in the latter part 
of November, 1895. Two of us were Northern men and 
three were Arkansawyers, and we had with us four dogs 
of nondescript variety. Four of us had journeyed to our 
camping place on foot, a distance of some thirty miles, 
while the fifth with a team of ponies and a rickety wagon 
conveyed our tent and other things. The country round- 
about was as wild as it ever was, and tracks in the soft 
earth indicated that various kinds of animals were here 
at home. 
These bottoms are subject to overflow in times of heavy 
rain, which condition renders them valueless from an 
agricultural standpoint, though they are covered with 
much valuable timber. Having selected a camping site 
we pitched our tent — a 7ft. by 9ft. affair intended for 
two — on the afternoon of a certain Friday, and having 
tethered the ponies to convenient saplings and cut them 
some armf uls of . small cane upon which to browse, we 
dispersed into the woods to look for game, returning at 
dusk, each having seen sign, but no game bagged. About 
dark that night it began to rain quite hard. Saturday 
morning when we awoke we found the dogs inside the 
tent and the rain coming down in torrents. Here we were, 
five men, four dogs, seven guns and a camping outfit 
cooped up in a 7 X 9 tent. AE day Saturday and all 
Saturday night the rain continued to fall without inter- 
mission. Once during the day a couple of us donned oil- 
cloth suits and essayed to go hunting anyhow, but it was 
of no use, we could not hunt in so much rain. 
Sunday morning found the situation unimproved. The 
rain still fell as abundantly as ever, and although our 
tent was pitched on the top of a slight ridge, the ground 
had become so saturated that water was beginning to find 
its way under the edges of the tent, and the ground inside 
on which we had our beds, consisting of a layer of small 
cane on which we spread our blankets, was getting 
muddy. In coming to this place we had been obliged to 
ford a good-sized creek, with the water then nearly up to 
the bed of our wagon, and in view of the situation in camp 
and the danger that the water in the creek would become 
too deep to be fordea, a motion was made that we move 
out beyond the reach of high water. But thoughts of 
breaking camp and tramping out of the woods in such 
a storm loomed up forebodingly in the minds of a majority 
of the campers, and the motion was lost. We therefore 
spent another day with the dogs under our canvas shelter. 
We had hoped that Monday morning would bring a ces- 
sation of the downpour, but in this we were disappointed, 
for the rain continued unabated. By this time the 
ground inside of our tent had become thoroughly wet 
and likewise the most of our bedding. Again amotion 
was made to move out and this time there was no dis- 
h eating voice. 
It was about 6;30 A. M. William, the grand master of 
our cuisine, had gotten a few dry sticks together and in 
spite of the rain had started a fire just outside the door of 
the tent, preparatory to getting: some breakfast. Andrew 
asked how long before breakfast would be ready. Wil- 
liam said an hour. So Andrew and I took our rifles and 
went out into tbe woods, thinking that a little stroll 
might relieve us from the ennui of our recent imprison- 
ment in the tent, and give us an appetite for corn bread 
and pork. 
Soon we separated and after goins; about one-fourth of 
a mile I found an open glade some 200yds. across between 
two heavy canebrakes, and thought that here wou'd be a 
good place to watch for a deer, especially as I could see 
freshly made tracks in the mud. 
I accordingly leaned up against a small tree and kept a 
sharp lookout. 
Presently I saw a medium-sized buck coming toward 
me from the canebrake on my left. I stood motionless 
and he continued making directly toward me. I had my 
rifle, a 44 40-200 Winchester model of 1892, under my oil- 
cloth coat to protect it from the rain, and when the deer 
had gotten within about 100yds of me I began very 
slowly to get out the weapon. The deer saw my very 
first move, and stopping instantly, looked at me with all 
tbo intentness be could muster. 
Slowly, inch by inch, I raised my rifle and when the 
sights filled upon the white patch covering his throat I 
fired, and down he went with his neck broken just below 
the head. The buUet also severed one of the jugular 
arteries and I had no use for my knife, as the blood 
gushed forth from the bullet wound in a stream the size 
of my finger. Taking off my belt, I looped it around his 
horns and dragged him to camp, where I arrived in time 
for breakfast. 
Breakfast over, we broke camp and piling the deer and 
our luggage into the wagon, started for civilization. All 
through the wood* the water was from a few inches to a 
few feet deep in every depression, and for a quarter of 
a mile at a stretch in places the road was under water. 
Luckily that creek nad not risen so much but that we 
managed to get through it with the wagon. All day we 
plodded through the mud and water in a blinding rain, 
all hands walking, to enable the ponies to proceed at all, 
until finally our troubles ended and we again found our- 
selves dry and warm. 
The deer head has been mounted and whenever I look 
at it I am reminded of that wet hunt in Arkansas. 
AUTOKEE. 
Toledo, Ohio. 
THE RIFLE AND THE CARIBOU. 
Several correspondents of Forest and Stream have 
referred to a letter in which I spoke of the Sharps .45- 
120-500 cartridge as a fatal dose for moose, and the Win- 
chester single-shot as a good conduit for it. With many 
of the kindly criticisms I agree entirely. The rifle 
described is not the ideal hunting rifle. That weapon 
does not exist; but, fortunately for mortal comfort, every 
man's own gun is the next thing to it. 
Four hundred yards is too great a distance at which 
to shoot at any game, as the well-informed H. B. S. truly 
says; and in all I had to say I had mostly in mind dis- 
tances under 300yds. I repeat that a good shot, with a 
proper riflf, under favorable circumstances, can kill a 
moose at 300yds. with one bullet. 
And I wish to remark that when returning to camp 
you suddenly become aware of a big caribou standing 
gray and solemn against the sky, on the crest of a ridge 
too far away for comfortable shooting, you are pretty 
likely to try a shot, if you can get no nearer. Here is 
the situation : The caribou has seen you. He has run a 
few steps and stopped, for reasons known to himself. 
He stands looking back. There is not a bush between 
you and him. Half a dozen times as you have come 
down that hill each morning you have unconsciously 
counted the steps, and you know there are 321 of them. 
Iq the calm stillness of approaching evening the old 
fellow, motionless against the golden western heaven, 
looks as big as a horse. His great white collar, plainly 
visible at that distance, makes his head, in the center of 
the white circle turned toward you, look like a black 
bullseye. Now, Mr. Clay, with your .44-40, and Mr. H. 
B. S , my impression is you are going to give him one for 
luck, anyway. You of the .44-40 toss your leaden mes- 
senger heavenward in a graceful rainbow curve. The 
gentle breeze, imperceptible to you where you kneel, 
wafts the missile softly to one side, and aB it sings by 
Br'er Caribou he starts like one rudely awakened from a 
dream. By the time you run to the top of the hill he is a 
vanishing speck, looking like a rabbit on a trot far down 
the purple valley. 
But you, H. B. S. , who know the accuracy of a 500gr. 
bullet with a paper patch, take my rifle sighted for 
100yds. , while the caribou stands trying to make out what 
we are. Put up the fine needle point of the Lyman com- 
bination fore sight. Sit down and rest your elbows on 
your knees. Raise the rifle till the fore sight appears to 
point a foot above the caribou's back. Now steady. 
Turn loose the 120grs. of powder. If you are lucky you 
may cut the poor caribou nearly in two, and he will be 
beyond all knowledge of -this life before you can get to 
him. 
Oh, yes, 50yds. are better. Who that has done it can 
forget the sight of the big buck peacefully lying down on 
the side hill where you, serpent-like monster, have 
crawled upon him till you can see the damp hairs where 
he has given his side a lick with his tongue. That is still- 
hunting. And the redeeming feature about your murder 
is that you kill the unfortunate animal without his ever 
knowing what happened to him. 
Yes, I know my rifles are "cannon." But in some years 
of shooting I do not know of one deer or moose or cari- 
bou that I ever left to die a slow and miserable death. 
This very evening I have suffered while reading the 
story of a big elk that was wounded by a .40cal. Win- 
chester bullet, and only killed after twenty-four hours of 
painful, pitiful toil to escape from its pursuers, The 
man who told the story concluded with this remark, 
which condenses the whole controversy into a brass shell: 
"We now looked to see which ball had struck him the 
evening before. We found that one had entered the neck 
and lodged in the vertebra near the shoulder. We cut it 
out and it proved to be from my Winchester. F.'s rifle 
was a heavy Sharps, and would have stopped the elk 
with the first shot, if he had hit it." 
If I die by shooting, hit uie with a I'm. G tling bullet, 
please. Frederic Irland. 
DUCK SHOOTING ON A MISSISSIPPI 
OVERFLOW. 
Wildfowl shooting in the timber. What glorious 
memories are recalled by those magic words to the sports- 
man who has been permitted to enjoy the fascinating 
sport. 
Sometimes the shooting is done in the pleasant autumn 
months, when the purple haze of October covers the 
woods and fields with a filmy veil. Again it is in wild, 
blustering Maroh, when the winds howl unceasingly 
through the treetops and the storm-king reigns supreme. 
But the wildfowl shooter cares little for the roar of winds 
or storms, for he is warmly clad and sheltered by the 
woods and underbrush. 
The only drawback to this kind of shooting along the 
Mississippi is that it cannot be indulged in every season, 
for the reason that a spring or fall overflow is necessary 
to supply the water, and of late years this is not a semi- 
annual or even annual occurrence. It is when one of 
these overflows on the Mississippi occurs during the 
autumn months (alas, only too rare) that the duck hunter 
is thoroughly happy. Then the wildfowl are migrating 
southward, plump and fat, The wide stretch of water 
affords ample room to rest their weary pinions, while the 
submerged willow swales and pin oak ridgeB furnish the 
delicious acorns and succulent roots that they love so well. 
Most of the timber shooting is at mallards, where they 
linger in countless numbers, loath to leave until a cold 
Btorm drives them further on toward their southern home, 
Many times I have seen the overflowed timber lands filled 
with these handsome birds, each eagerly intent upon se- 
curing its quota of acorns. 
A stretch of river twenty-five miles above and below 
Savanna, III., comprises some of the best wildfowl shoot- 
ing grounds on the Mississippi. A few years ago one of 
these welcome overflows occurred in the fall. Acres of 
ducks, mostly mallards, hung around until late in No- 
vember, dreaming idly on the bosom of the Mississippi, 
or devouring acorns in the timber. It was during this 
season that sauntering down street one windy morning I 
met a shooting companion, George T, We both stopped 
and looked inquiringly at the sky. 
"This wind will drive the ducks out of the river," 
commented George. 
"Your diagnosis agrees with mine exactly," I replied. 
" And they say," continued George, " that the mallards 
are so thick in the timber west of Spring Lake that there 
is danger of their digging the trees up by the root3." 
" You be ready in twenty minutes and we will go down 
and give them something else to think of," said I, hurry- 
ing away to don my corduroys. 
We were soon in a boat gliding down the river bound 
for the timbered ponds between Srring Lake and the 
river about four miles below Savanna. When near our 
destination we turned aside into a deep, narrow channel, 
and started out through the timber, eyes and ears alert 
for ducks. Far ahead we could hear them quacking and 
calling to each other, little dreaming that their feast was 
soon to be disturbed. A short distance in the timber and 
without warning a pair of fine mallards arose, protesting 
at our intrusion. George was alert and at the double re- 
port of his gun they both subsided and we picked them 
up as we went by. Far out in the woods the flapping and 
quacking of ducks, frightened at the report of the gun, 
was borne to our ears. 
" Hurry up and let's get in that pond west of Spring 
Lake and get out our decoys," said George. 
Just as we rounded a point to start out through the 
timber, a mallard sprang up from the edge of the trees 
not 25 ft. away. In its haste and fright the duck 
flew against some small branches and it was ludi- 
crous to watch its tactics in trying to extricate itself and 
get away. My companion was as much astonished as the 
fowl and his first barrel was fired ere the gun was to his 
shoulder, missing it clean. The second barrel followed 
the first almost instantly, but the duck went on. Seeing 
that we were about to lose a, fine bird through George's 
carelessness, I dropped the oars and seizing my gun 
turned on my hips, and killed the duck with a lucky 
snapshot. George looked foolish. " Don't say a word, I 
have been there myself," I said. Before he could reply a 
pair came over us and my companion made as pretty a 
double as one could wi3h to see. Picking up our ducks, 
we rowed through the timber to an open place that in low 
water was a shallow pond. 
Throwing out a dozen decoys, we pushed our boat under 
the trees, and filling our pipes s^t down to wait for our 
intended victims. There was so great an extent of feed- 
ing grounds that of course we could not expect to get a 
shot at a hundredth part of the ducks tb-'-. were flying 
and alighting in different parts of the timber. 
We sat smoking for about five minutes, waen five mal- 
lards came over high up, and seeing our decoys bowed 
their wings and with that peculiar pendulum-like swing 
of the body dropped straight to the water. When about 
10ft. from the decoys their wings went up like a re- 
verse lever to check their momentum, and just then two 
guns cracked and two greenheads lay among the decoys; 
for some reason our second barrels missed, probably we 
undershot, a common fault with climbing ducks. 
" I call that pretty poor shooting," remarked George. 
" Yes, if we can't do better than that, we will hunt 
around and find some rocks to throw." 
A vociferous quacking out in the timber and George 
got out his duck call and sent a seductive answer to the 
lonely female mallard, and as she dropped into the decoys 
a load of 6s ended her troubles then and there. 
" Let's take turns making doubles when a pair comes 
in," I suggested. 
"All right, go ahead, and I will see how you do it,' 
replied George. 
We had not long to wait; a low musical hiss greeted 
our ears as a pair of greenheaded drakes dropped over the 
timber. I caught the sheen of a chestnut breast as I 
pressed the trigger and drew on the other one just as he 
got to the top of the trees. He struck the water a second 
after bis partner, and never made a kick, 
Shortly after we made the star shot of the day. A 
bunch of a dozen swung in and we emptied four barrels 
at them, and never got a feather. 
"Well, I'll be blowed, we must have forgotten to put 
shot in the shells," said George in disgust, watching the 
rapidly vanishing fowls. 
"We certainly forgot to put shot in the ducks,". I an- 
swered Badly. 
" Keep quiet, here cornea my double." As they flul- 
