A1>ril 25, 1896.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
388 
;he table, and leading the way out to the barn proceeded 
;o feed his hounds. Then I saw as fine a lot of hounds as 
', ever laid my eyes on. Most of the pack were bred from 
English stag and ' fox hound stock, and all were large, 
veil- developed dogs. He had fourteen, and what a pow- 
row they raised as he opened the door to feed them. 
Chen came the usual scramble and the fights over who 
ivould get the most. Sam broke the bread up in small 
)ieces and scattered it all over the barn floor, so all the 
logs could get some; but then a hound is a hound and 
rou cannot make anything else out of him. There were 
'our especially large, fine hounds in the pack. My diary 
ells me their names were Leader, Queen, Dan and Rock. 
Chese were the imported dogs from which the rest of the 
jack had been raised, and I guess that their being the 
parents of the others had something to do with their 
iomineering tactics. Every time one of the younger 
logs came near one of these four it was sure to be wal- 
owed around and badly misused. Then two of the old 
logs would get into a dispute over whioh one was eating 
;he fastest, and stop eating to fight it out. Then two or 
;hree of the younger ones would take sides and there 
i^ould be a general mix up for five minutes, until Sam 
would have to step in and decide the day by kicking all 
>f them over. Such is a hound's life, ever selfish and ag- 
gressive. 
Sam now showed us his last year's trophies, which con- 
listed of several nice heads of horns and a number of 
ikins. So we went back to the house feeling happy, yes 
more than happy, joyous, for we now had great hopes of 
success on the following day. 
We rested on beds of down that night and dreamed of 
aounds and deer and such things, and were oblivious to 
he world when we were rudely awakened by Sam pound- 
ng on the door. "Get up, boys, it is four o'clock and I 
want to be on the travel by five." We needed no coax- 
ng, but bounded out of bed like schoolboys and 
lad a race to see who could dress first. Such is 
bunting, gentlemen. It will put energy and life 
into the most gouty limbs. After a superb bre^k- 
iast, which was awaiting us hot and smoking on 
>n the table, we were ordered to horse and started off at 
i gallop. Everything seemed to be in our favor, even the 
ilements, as it had rained hard during the night and 
sleared off before day; so now the scenting would be good, 
[n half an hour we three visitors were on our stands and 
3am had taken a wide circuit with the pack to start the 
deer. 
About four miles from Sam's house is an old hurricane 
where the fallen timber and thick brush and grapevines 
afford good cover for game of all kinds. It was here 
that Sam always got up his deer, and they nearly always 
ran through one of the stands that we filled. We were 
stationed at intervals along the crest of a small ridge that 
ran east and west, and divided the waters of two creeks 
which flowed in opposite directions. 
Sam had been gone about two hours when I caught a 
sound that I thought was the cry of the hounds. I listened 
attentively to distinguish whether it was the sighing of 
the wind or really the dogs. It seemed to draw nearer, 
and in a few moments I could distinctly distinguish the 
voice of one dog from another. Then I stood up on a log 
to get a more commanding view of the slope of the ridge, 
and see over the top of the thick bushes. The cry was 
very confusing, I could not tell whether it was nearing my 
stand or going toward the next stand below me, which 
was occupied by Mattson. In a second more I heard. 
Mattson's shotgun boom! boom! in quick succession. I 
thought, well, Mattson had either got one or scored a miss. 
But before I could move I heard the dogs coming full 
cry toward me. I looked off through the trees in the di- 
rection of the music, and saw a deer coming. I still 
stood on the log so I could see. I now cocked my rifle 
and waited. The deer was headed straight toward me, so 
I could gain nothing by moving. When it was within 
about 40yds. of me, I drew at the fore shoulder and fired. 
It did not stop, only tucked its tail. I threw in another 
cartridge, took more careful aim and fired again; still it 
did not stop. Now it was out of sight, hidden by the 
thick brush. I now ran out into the road at the ridge, 
and got in another shot as the deer jumped across the 
road. Still it did not stop. I thought to myself, well, 
durn that deer and durn this gun, because I knew I had 
hit it twice. I now saw the deer climbing the steep side 
of another ridge 200yds. away. I ran my rear sight up 
to the top notch, took aim and fired again, but still the deer 
did not stop. There was no use shooting any more, as I 
saw my last shot knock up the gravel 10ft. behind the 
deer and I had taken careful aim just over its back. The 
deer was now going in a slow walk, and with a good rifle 
I could have knocked it down easily. It climbed slowly 
up the ridge and just as it reached the top it fell. By 
this time Bixby was at my side. He had seen the deer 
jump across the road from where he stood some 400yds. 
away, and had run down the road, hoping to get a shot at 
it. We now went over to the deer and found it dead. It 
had three bullets in it: one through the side, one in the 
hind quarters and one through the neck; yet it had run 
350 paces from where it was first shot. So much for your 
small short cartridges. I would not carry a .44-40-200 or 
a .38-35 rifle in the woods again. 
This same season I shot another deer on identically the 
same stand with a .44-40-200 rifle, and it ran four and one- 
half miles, and was finally dragged down by the hounds. 
Sam Wester was a witness to that performance also. The 
last-named deer was shot lOin. behind the foreleg; the 
ball ranged backward through the intestines and lodged 
in one of the hams; the deer had been approaching at an 
angle of about 45 degrees to me. If I were of a mind to 
do so I could name many deer that I have lost entirely in 
using a .44-40-200 Winchester, and have followed for 
hours with dogs on a blood trail and never got the deer. 
How any one can advocate the use of such a gun is more 
than I can see, because I defy the most expert hunterB to 
hit a deer just where they want to when it is running 
and jumping in the thick brush. A man is doing fine 
work if he hits it anywhere from its nose to its tail. 
We now cut the deer's throat, and then strapping it on 
my horse behind me set out for Mattson's stand. When we 
got there we found Sam and Mattson standing, one where 
Mattson stood and the other where the deer was when 
Mattson shot at it. They were just thirty steps apart. 
Mattson said two deer had gone by where Sam was stand- 
ing, and there the tracks were to show for themselves 
that he had shot both barrels at them, and had not 
touched a hair that he knew of. He was candid about it, 
anyway, so we agreed not to tell anybody when we got 
to town, and he was happy, There was a mark on a tree 
over Sam's head, 10 or 12ft. from the ground, so Mattson 
must just have fired his gun off in the air. Sam told us 
that he had killed a deer when the dogs started the game> 
so that made up for the chances Mattson had thrown 
away. 
We now rode to the hurricane or windfall, and got 
Sam's deer. Sam had killed the first deer that got up, 
and at the sound of his gun three more had jumped out 
of the same fallen treetops. If his horse had not acted so 
foolishly he could have killed another, as he was within 
35 or 40yds. of them. We now went back to Sam's house 
and had plenty of time to skin and dress our venison 
before dinner. We all had lots of fun at poor Mattson]s 
expense. Even Sam's kids guyed him about missing his 
deer. But poor Mattson bore it so good-naturedly that 
we at length got ashamed of ourselves and let him off. 
After a good dinner and many thanks to Mrs. Wester and 
Sam for their whole-souled hospitality, Bixby, Mattson 
and I took our departure and arrived at home early in 
the afternoon. 
We had been gone but little over a day, and had all the 
venison we wanted and the best time we ever had in our 
lives. 
About three years ago Sam Wester and his family 
moved to Boise City, Idaho, and are there now. I have 
been out there once since Sam moved West, and in com- 
pany with him and six other good fellows had a two 
months' hunt in Jackson's Hole, just south of the Yellow- 
stone Park. In fact, I have hunted in the indentical 
cafion where the Bannock Indians were killed last year. 
Perhaps I may write that up for Forest and Stream 
readers some day. A. B. Wingfield. 
New York Game Laws. 
The Assembly passed on April 21 the Sanger bills allow- 
ing deer jacking Sept. 1 to 15, and hunting Oct. 1 to 15, The 
Malby bills in the Senate have been amended to conform 
to the Sanger bill. This appears to indicate that hound- 
ing and jacking will not be entirely prohibited at this 
session. Shot. 
DAYS ON THE NIPIGON. 
The hot weather had given me the fever, and as the 
cool shades of the evening came to relieve the hot, burn- 
ing rays of a July sun, that royal leader of good fellows, 
Judge James Fitz3immons, came slowly into my office 
and sat down, wiping the perspiration from his glowing 
face. 
"Well, old man," said he, "if this weather continues I 
must get out of town, or I will turn into a living stream 
of water; besides I am. tired out, and I am hungry for 
some good fresh fish. Don't you know of a place where 
fish are plenty and the weather more moderate than this? 
Say, let's get a couple of good fellows and go away and 
get rested. Now, think up a place and let me know, and 
we will arrange to go." 
Well, here was a go. A man as mad as myself to break 
the confinement of the office for the freedom of stream 
and woods — to catch fish and eat them too. 
I called upon Fred W. Salsbury, to interview him for 
new fishing waters. He recommended the Nipigon 
River, in Canada. 
To our party we added Capt. H. Jones, the owner of 
the steamei Blanche, and a capital good fellow and sailor; 
then, to fill up and make complete the party, John F. 
Edmundson, Esq., the fun mak er, to drive away the blues 
after the loss of the largest fish, and Dr. J. D. Milligan, 
surgeon- in-charge and as fine a trout fisherman as ever 
cast a line, and myself to complete the list. 
Aug. 7, 1895, was the day fixed to start, and by the P. 
& L. E. R. R. to Cleveland the route; thence by boat to 
Detroit, and from there to Grand Rapids over the D. , L. 
& N. R. R, ; thence to Mackinaw City over the C. & W. M. 
R. R., and then to Duluth over the D., S. S. & A. R. R.; 
thence by steamer Hiram P. Dixon to Port Arthur, and 
by the C. P. R R. to Nipigon station. 
I detail our route for the reason that we have passed 
over some very valuable fishing country, the product of 
which was shown to us at different points along the C. & 
W. M. R. R. by many fishermen who came in and kindly 
exposed the contents of their creels to us. 
At Thompsonville station a party of fishermen had a 
very fine creel of trout weighing anywhere from lib. to 
2f lbs. each, and were as happy as the proverbial fisher- 
man after a successful day. So at different stations along 
this railroad were exhibited to our eager eyes these fresh 
trout until our mouths watered and our hearts wished for 
the Nipigon. 
Near Mumsurg station on the D., S. S. & A. R. R. a 
party of two old sports came aboard with a creel of half 
dozen trout that would weigh about 2 to 3|lbs. each and 
the sight of them set us wild. The train did not go half 
fast enough, and had it been possible for us to go by tele- 
graph we would have done so. 
In time we reached Duluth, and pitching our baggage 
into an express wagon we drove like the wind to the 
steamer Hiram P. Dixon's dock, which whistled us to 
hurry, and as our baggage was put on board the line was 
cast off and we were on the waters of Lake Superior en 
route for paradise. The voyage over the western and 
northern end of the lake was one of delightful rest, and 
at the same time it was one of great unrest because that 
boat took just twenty hours to make Port Arthur, and 
every hour seemed to be two, because we were confined 
to the narrow limits of a small steamboat, while in fancy's 
dream the trout and fish of the Nipigon danced, splashed 
and leaped in every direction. 
At sun up on the lake about every person on board was 
up and ready to rush to the depot so as to catch the morn- 
ing train at Port Arthur, which seemed only a stone's 
throw away, but as the smoke and steam arose over the 
treotops the chances of catching the incoming train 
lessened. The train stopped at the end of the dock, and 
as our boat touched the dock the train began to move and 
in a few minutes it was beyond our sight. Had the train 
stopped five minutes we could have reached it with our 
baggage and landed at the Nipigon Hotel ready for break- 
fast. But, alas, our boat did not move us fast enough and 
a delay of a day seemed imminent. The Northern Hotel 
lies beyond the dock a short distance and to it we wend, 
our way, and our host soon sets before us a fine meal and 
with it we soon recover our usual good spirits. By a 
happy thought our chief and leader, the genial, jovial and 
thoughtful Fred W. Salsbury, hies himself away to Fort 
Williams, and upon his return he brings with him an 
order to ride upon a freight train to our destination. 
Thinking we are tied up here for a day our party had 
scattered over the town, but in the excitement of the hour 
Capt. Jones and the funny man, Edmundson, were lost 
and from this point they returned home, while the other 
three wended their way to the end. The fisherman sur- 
geon, Dr. J . D. Milligan, of our corps, had been detained 
and detached at Detroit, and did not rejoin us, much to out 
regret and to his chagrin. 
In about two hours we arrived at Nipigon station , inter- 
viewed the station agent, who conducted us to the Tay- 
lor House. It is the only hotel in the place, and is kept by 
a jolly, jovial, honest man, who spared no pains to make 
us comfortable. This was the end of civilization, and 
from this point begins the ascent of the Nipigon River. 
Before ascending the Nipigon, it is absolutely neces- 
sary to interview the law's representative, so ably filled 
by Mr. Wm. McKirdy, fish warden of that district. 
After the production of the necessary papers of introduc- 
tion, we made application for permission to go up the 
river, and are promptly provided with them. Having 
taken such good care of us in this respect, we concluded 
that we were safe in his hands for the entire outfit, and 
after conversation together an order was given for 
guides, tents, cooking utensils and provisions for one 
week. 
As there are three of us, Mr. McKirdy advised two 
boats and four men called guides, but why I am un- 
able to answer. The starting point is on the river about 
three-quarters of a mile from the hotel. Our good cloth- 
ing was left at the Taylor House, and what baggage we 
would not need. We also left our railroad tiokets and 
our money, because there was no place to use it beyond 
this point. Bidding everybody goodby, we started for 
the river. At the landing we found Joe Esquimo and 
three other Indians whcse names we did not learn, but 
one we called Big Chief. The boats were 18ft. birch 
bark canoes of about 4ft. beam. Into these were packed 
our baggage, week's provisions, tents, etc., and seven 
men. In order to equalize the load, the Judge and myself 
were assigned to one canoe and Fred and the baggage 
were put into the other. As we were strangers to the 
Indians, they made the division according to their ideas, 
and Fred and the baggage got the old-looking canoe, 
while the Judge and I got the new one. We congratu- 
lated ourselves upon our luck in having got the best look- 
ing craft, and were happy and contented. We feasted 
our eyes upon those famous waters, its rock-ribbid hills, 
clad with forests, and were contemplating how soon we 
would break the record, when our attention was arrested 
by the gabbling of the Indians. As our education in 
Chippewa had been neglected, we could not understand 
what all this argument was about, but I suddenly dis- 
covered that we were filling with water. The Indians 
ran the craft ashore and yelled to the camp on shore, 
when the inhabitants rushed down to us. 
A lot of talk followed, and we got out and our baggege 
followed. There were a lot of Indian girls standing 
around. We tried to make the best of a bad bargain and 
tried to talk to the girls, but not a word would they 
answer, but two of them picked up a canoe, shoved it 
into the water and paddled off. After a while they came 
back with two men from across the river with a lot of 
pitch, tar, etc., to repair and put in good condition our 
leaky canoe. In the course of time we overtook Fred 
and the guide Joe, who, by the way, is a great scholar, 
informs us that we have been on Lake Helen and would 
now go westwardly into the Nipigon River. Joe talks 
good English, and is a Latin scholar as well. I had with 
me some copies of the annual reports of the United 
Hunting and Fishing Clubs of Pennsylvania, and when I 
showed him the advertisement of a certain firm on 
Broadway he at once said, "I know where Broadway is. 
It is in New York." It was a great relief to hear an ex- 
planation of the waters over which we were passing, and 
Joe was the only one with us who could give it. I missed 
much of the legends of the river because I was separated 
from him nearly all the time, and as I was the smaller of 
the party I was always assigned to the boat that could 
hold me. 
The houses were soon left behind. They passed from 
our ken, and the wild, rugged wilderness stretched out 
before us in unmeasured miles. The water was clear and 
ice cold, and to our imagination it was alive with fisb. 
After passing up the river some three or four miles we 
saw an Indian with five sturgeon 6ft. long which he had 
caught that day, and we were sadly tempted again. But 
no stop was made, no cessation of the constant dip of the 
paddles by the Indians, and we moved steadily up the 
stream. 
Soon the dim roar like a passing train or like the dis- 
tant thunder falls upon our ears, and soon it becomes so 
loud that we cease to hear one another talk, and the leader 
motions where to cross and what to do. As I steady my- 
self and turn facing the north I see the water falling over 
high falls with high land on both sides and rushing with 
mighty force, bearing white caps with it, and dashing it- 
self against the opposite bank, and to one who is timid it 
seems foolhardy to attempt crossing. 
Our men had been there before, and we sit still and 
leave everything to them; and shortly we land safely and 
get out, to our relief, as we were all cramped up from our 
long ride in the boats. At the particular spot where our 
boat touched the shore there stands an old tree, whose long, 
gnarled roots clasp in its grasp rock of different sizes, and 
then runs into the earth beyond our sight and affords a 
good harbor for the canoes. The shore is rocky and the 
land beyond slopes back, ending in a small hill. This is 
a camping ground, and the evidences show that a good 
many other fishermen have sought slumber, rest and food 
at this point. The falls seem about 15 or 20ft. high, and 
the water so rough and the current was so swift that 
none of us care to rig up a rod and line to make a cast. 
The portage here is about a short quarter of a mile to a 
small creek of black water not over 30 or 40ft, wide and 
5 or 6ft. deep. We go up this stream several hundred 
feet and disembark again. The chief, Joe, kindly con- 
sents to our making a camp here for the first night, and 
the camp is pitched upon top of a high hill, up which we 
carry our traps, water, etc. 
Leaving the work for the Indians, I rig up my line and 
make a cast with a small fly, and land a 7in. trout; an- 
other cast and I land a lOin. trout, and then follows one 
