178 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Sept. 1, 1894. 
'he ^fathn[mt §^onmt 
CAMPING AND TRAMPING IN MEXICO. 
There was no mistake about it. I had a severe attack 
this time. For days I thought I could recognize the symp- 
toms, and tried to avert the "spell" by thoughts of hard 
times, pressure of business, obligations to be met, etc., 
but it was of no use. Every breeze came to me laden 
with the odor of the woods and suggestions of the camp- 
fire. My diseased imagination distorted the sounds of the 
air into the quack of the duck, the honk of the goose, and 
the whistle of the buck. As I walked along at nightfall 
the peepers and myriads of unclassified little things which 
make the sounds of the night, whispered of the mott and 
the arroyo. I could stand it no longer. I recognized the 
disease, and I knew the sole remedy. Quickly gathering 
together a few congenial spirits, who had been similarly 
affected, preparations were made for a ten days' outing 
in the Republic of Mexico. There were Jay, a disciple of 
St. John, of Prohibition fame; two Texas sportsmen, a 
Chicago "tenderfoot," and one who can best be described 
as a "dude," and the writer. 
The State of Ooahuila was selected as the sanitarium to 
which our pilgrimage was to be made, and where we ex- 
pected to be restored to our normal conditions. This State 
is separated from Texas on the north by the Rio Grande 
River, and perhaps no section of the North American 
continent affords a greater variety or abundance of game 
and fishes. The time was about the middle of January 
of this year, and we were soon on a west-bound train 
rapidly leaving San Antonio and our "dumps" behind us. 
We left the train at Del Rio, a Texas border town, 
where we were met by our guide, the genial and always 
reliable Senor Eduardo Dignonity. We had telegraphed 
to him in the morning, 
and he had procured f©r 
us a complete camping 
outfit, a mule team, an 
ambulance, a cart, pro- 
visions for two weeks, 
and a Mexican, who was 
to perform the import- 
ant duties of chef and 
mule driver. Our duffle 
was quickly transferred 
from the baggage car to 
the conveyances, and 
before the last good-by 
of our fellow passengers 
had died away our Mex- 
ican shouted " Huia 
milos," and away we 
went over a smooth and 
well kept road. 
A soft southern breeze 
blew into six radiant 
and expectant faces. 
The sky was cloudless, 
the air balmy. Afar off 
in the west, enveloped 
in a veil of deep blue, 
could be seen the ma- 
jestic Sierra Del Car- 
men Mountains, at 
whose feet our guide 
informed us we were to 
pitch our tent. Ah, 
me, what a change in 
twenty-four hours! Yes- 
terday moping, going 
about our daily grind in 
a half-hearted and per- 
functory manner, irri- 
table and fault finding. 
To-day, as we filled our 
lungs with the soft air 
of this glorious climate, 
we became new beings, 
radiant and hopeful. 
Everything had taken 
on a new color. We were con amove with nature and 
with each other. 
Just as the sun was touching the horizon we reached 
the banks of the Rio Grande River. The thought of 
crossing this wide stream of muddy water, with its swift 
current and treacherous holes, was not an inspiring one. 
But our self-reliant guide plunged boldly in with his frail 
cart, calling to us to follow. With bated breath and 
hearts in throats we followed him, and soon were on 
Mexican soil with our belongings uninjured. On this 
side we found many quail, and ducks were flying in such 
numbers that we could not resist the temptation to stop 
long enough to take some of both. We climbed a steep 
hill and entered the village of Las Vacas through an old 
gate and archway. At this point we were halted by the 
cordados (rangers), who demanded our passports. Through 
the kindness of Juan Maria Munos, Jefe de la Aduana 
(lieutenant-general of the rangers and collector of the 
customs on the Rio Grande), we were permitted to hunt 
and fish in the State of Coahuila, and our teams, arms 
and luggage were admitted free of duty. While talking 
to these dark-featured men of the border, and curiously 
noting their wide-brimmed sombreros, trimmed with 
gold and silver, and their blankets of gorgeous colors, 
we saw our guide coming from a low one : story adobe 
building concealing something under his coat. There 
was an unusual expression in his eye which aroused our 
curiosity. Thinking that he was playing one of his 
border jokes, smuggling, we did not question his. strange 
actions until we had left the village, when he informed 
us (out of the hearing of Jay, however) that he had a jug 
of muscal. 
After leaving Las Vacas the night became very dark, 
the roads rough and our pace necessarily slower. For 
several miles we followed along the foot of a low range 
of mountains, and then crossed over into what seemed a 
broad valley, and by 10 o'clock we entered a thick "mott" 
where we pitched our tent. In a very short time we had 
an ideal camp-fire, dead and dry wood being abundant, 
and by the time the tea kettle had begun its vesper hymn, 
the tent was up and staked down. After a hearty supper 
we wrapped ourselves in the blankets, and rolling in 
under the canvas were soon enjoying the sleep which 
comes from healthful fatigue. Before daybreak the fol- 
lowing morning all were up, some preparing to hunt 
turkey in the adjoining live oak motts, others to go into 
the valley among the musquite and chaparral for deer, 
while others would follow along the arroyo for ducks. 
Throughout the morning could be heard the report of the 
shotgun and rifle, and each one was speculating as to 
what the others would bring into camp. By noon all had 
straggled in, tired and hungry, but well laden with game. 
The result of our initial hunt was two buck deer, five 
turkeys and many ducks. 
The term "mott" in this country is applied to a clump 
of live oak trees, varying from one to forty acres in ex- 
tent. It is derived from the Spanish word mata. These 
motts are usually found along the streams and are as a 
rule long and narrow. As many as a half dozen varieties 
of trees are found in them, such as the live oak, pecan, 
hackberryand walnut, the live oak predominating. The 
oak remains green throughout the year and affords unsur- 
passed cover for all kinds of game. 
The wild turkey roosts in the motts, usually near a 
stream, and feeds in the adjoining chaparral. Our method 
of hunting the turkey was either to locate their roosts and 
shoot them in their roosting places by moonlight or day- 
break, or to select an opening in themotts and shoot them 
on the wing as they flew to or from the trees, either at 
sun-up or sun-down. We found that at this season of the 
year there was some evidence of domestic infelicity in the 
Meleagris family. The gobblers and the hens were in 
different flocks and roosted apart from each other. While 
Mexico has no game laws, we made it our invariable rule 
not to kill any but males of both turkeys and deer. We 
found the gobblers in fine condition, some of them weigh- 
ing as much as 251bs. Wherever we went we found the 
motts full of these magnificent birds. All that was ne- 
cessary to do to bag a brace of them was to find some 
high point overlooking the mott about sun-up and mark 
their roosting places. By going there cautiously the same 
CAMP ON THE SAN DIEGO RIVER, MEXICO. 
night or by daybreak the following morning one could 
get several shots at them in the trees, 
In this country still-hunting is followed for deer. The 
most successful way we found was to mount a mule and 
Tide through the valley, looking out for clumps of brush 
or trees and small ravines. Before going very far from 
camp we would invariably "jump" a buck or two while 
they were feeding. When we came upon them unex- 
pectedly they would trot off, and when 100 to 200yds. 
away turn around and face us. If you were simply an 
average shot the moment you saw them you should dis- 
mount, getting off on the far side of your mule, resting 
your rifle on your saddle, and the instant the deer stopped 
and turned toward you you should shoot at his shoulder. 
If your aim were true he would drop within 100yds. If 
you missed him he would trot off another 100yds. and re- 
peat his first performance. If you missed him the second 
time he would gallop away, leaving you in disgust. A 
good shot would shoot out of the saddle on sight, and 
bring his quarry down before he had time to stop. Our 
buckboard was found very serviceable in getting in our 
game, especially the big bucks. It proved to be almost 
impossible to put a heavy buck on a mule and keep him 
there until we reached camp. Frequently while waiting 
in the motts for wild iurkeys to come to roost we would 
see deer within 75 or 100yds., and a charge of turkey shot 
would cause them to shake their tails and gallop off. 
When our level-headed guide saw the amount of game ' 
we had killed the first morning he said, "Boys, this will 
never do, you will drive us out of camp with all this 
meat." The fact that we were compelled to leave some 
of our game for the wolves and coyotes to devour, marred 
what was otherwise an ideal outing. During our entire 
stay the weather resembled that of June in the Northern 
a,nd Eastern States, and game would keep sweet no longer 
than three or four days. 
In the afternoon our guide and counselor called our at- 
tention to the fact that the arroyo was full of fish, and be- 
fore the sun had gone down several fine strings of bass had 
been caught. As a sort of moral agony a pair of scales 
was kept in camp, and when the piscatorial liar began his 
big story he was at once steered against the unsympathetic 
scales. Mendacity did not flourish in this camp. 
For our supper, Vincente, our chef, prepared a feast, 
the memory of which still produces an aqueous condition 
of the mouth and a tickling of the palate. Would you 
hear our woodland bill of fare? A^enison, turkey, duck, 
squirrel, quail, trout and bass, all done to a turn and 
served with consummate skill. Vincente looked upon the 
rapidly disappearing food in amazement, and no doubt 
felt some alarm as to the future of the camp, when we 
should have become convalescent. 
The next morning we broke camp and continued our 
course toward the Sierra Del Carmen Mountains, the 
headwaters of the San Diego River. It was my pleasant 
lot to ride with the guide in the buckboard, and I found 
him in a communicative mood. During the ride of 
twenty miles he related many experiences of border life, 
in hunting big game and Indian fights. He was a native 
Texan, his parents having come to Texas from one of the 
Northern States when Texas was a Republic. He had 
associated so much with the Mexicans that he could speak 
their language better than he could his own tongue. 
With my usual delicacy I refrained from asking the 
usual question put to border men, as to how many men 
he had prepared for the undertaker, but I felt some 
curiosity on this point. He showed me a very handsome 
hunting suit, with breast plate made of polished bones, 
perfectly round, about the size of a lead pencil, and about 
lin. in length. There were perhaps one hundred of these, 
linked together with buckskin cords passed through a 
small hole bored in the center t)f each bone. On this 
unique garment was inscribed the following, evidently 
written many years ago: "Taken from an Apache chief, 
whom I killed in a hand to hand fight, while guiding the 
TJ. S. troops in 1867, E. D." One of his remarkable hunt- 
ing stories was this: Some years ago while out after deer, 
he came upon two large bucks with their horns locked 
together so securely that they could not separate them, 
and they were unable to run. He killed them both, and 
found the antlers so interlocked that he could not get 
them apart. On my re- 
turn from this trip I 
verified this story. At 
a certain border saloon 
I found the identical 
horns, among hundreds 
of other trophies which 
adorned the walls of the 
place. 
In the afternoon we 
reached the banks of 
the beautiful San Diego 
River, and set our tent 
near a high bluff at the 
edge of a mott and on 
the banks of the stream. 
The San Diego is a bold 
and swiftly flowing 
river. The waters are 
cool and very clear. It 
is fed by many never 
failing springs, and re- 
mains almost station- 
ary. This is an ideal 
stream for the fisher- 
man. Within 50ft. of 
our tent was a huge 
boulder, which in some 
glacial period had been 
placed in the river. 
Around this rock,within 
a radius of 20ft., could 
be seen hundreds of 
trout and bass, from 1 
to 31bs. in weight. If 
one would creep up un- 
observed and cast a fly 
or live minnow into this 
pool a bass would strike 
it the moment it touched 
the water. Jay was the 
scientific fisherman of 
the party. He used a 
spoon hook and 12in. 
leader. On these clear 
waters we found that a 
leader made quite a difference in the catch. Our best 
bass fishing was in still water, in bayous, around boulders 
and water lilies, and not in the ripples and rapids. 
In the deep waterholes, where the water was from 15 
to 25ft. deep, could be seen many buffalo fish of great 
size. Jay determined one morning to catch one of these. 
He attached several hooks to his bass line and prepared 
to hook one as it passed over the line. After several un- 
successful attempts he got a fair hold on one, which 
proved to be an 18-pounder (by the scales). When the 
fish felt the hook this loafing member of the sucker 
family made a surprisingly game fight, which lasted 
thirty minutes. After exhausting ourselves we got it 
close to the bank and shot it through the head with a 
rifle. We caught several in this manner, when Jay 
finally hooked the "daddy" of all buffalo, and the reel 
having gotten caught we quit with a broken rod and line. 
Great was the astonishment and loud the comments of 
camp when we came in with these big fish strung on a 
pole carried on our shoulders. 
. What proved to be the most useful as well as the most 
thoroughly enjoyed of our paraphernalia was the canvas 
boat. It was convenient in crossing and recrossing the 
river for ducks killed, and in many ways was indispens- 
able. I was never before in a canvas boat, and felt some- 
what timid about the use of this one, but I never before 
saw a boat get such rough usage and come out with so 
little injury. It positively refused to upset. We ran into 
reefs, over rocks and shot the rapids, and although our 
frail craft was knocked hither and thither it always 
bobbed up serenely without a leak. 
After remaining several days at our second camp we 
continued down the river three or four miles to our third 
camp. After a great deal of persuasion our Dude was in- 
duced to walk, carrying with him his English hunting 
suit, big knife, horse pistol and Winchester. Up to date 
he had failed to kill any game, and had insisted that there 
was no game in the "blasted country." The cook quietly 
told us that he never had been known to get out of sight 
of the camp. One morning, however, he came into camp 
with a large gobbler, showing a bullet hole in its breast. 
Some unkindly hinted that the turkey had been dead sev- 
eral days, and suggestively held their noses whenever in 
its neighborhood, while others said something about the 
