316 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. 18, 1894. 
A FARMER'S VIEW. 
Irving, Barry Co., Mich., Sept. 30.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: On editorial page of Forest and Stream of 
Sept. 22, in "Portraits in Ink," called "A Pot-Hunter," 
you strhck a chord that will vibrate responsive in the 
hearts of many a farmer reader. God bless you for a 
farmer's trump. 
From 17 to 30 I lived on a farm, then was cashier and 
bookkeeper for five years, and the last two have been 
on the farm again. My clerical work was in Grand Rap- ' 
ids, Mich., and in New York. So I feel as though I could 
look at both the city and country side of shooting and 
fishing. From experience, 1 feel for my city brother and 
know how a day off or perhaps a week or two in the 
Gountry, are looked forward to for many months, and we 
farmers are glad to divide our sport with our overbur- 
dened business friend, but as I know from experience our 
city brother sometimes thinks that the mossback farmer 
leaves his work every once in a while and kills game and 
fish at any time, in season and out, and does not wish "a 
city feller" to step on his land. , 
I will admit that there are lots of mean, selfish law- 
breaking farmers. Such men enter into all classes of 
mankind. But the largest destruction of game and fish 
» mt of and in season comes from the mean element of 
village, town and city. Not that mankind is worse in 
those places than elsewhere, except on account of the 
greater population gathered together in a small compass. 
I realty think that the average farmer is not only a 
game protector, but is ready to share his land with a 
sportsman if treated like a gentleman and asked permis- 
sion to shoot Or fish. You who shoot for the sport there 
is in it, who can buy game when you crave a meal of 
it, who also have meat on your table once a day at least, 
or at the worst three times a week, should think of this 
I know that the average farmer goes without meat eight 
months out of the year; and when he has it, the hog is the 
animal drawn upon. Why is this? Because it takes all 
he can convert into money to pay his season's expenses with 
perhaps the interest on a mortgage. There are of course 
a few forehanded farmers with whom perhaps you, my 
city brother, are acquainted.who when you visit them show 
you great buildings full of grain, while fine cattle, sheep, 
hogs, fowls, greet your eye, and you sit down to a table 
with beef, mutton or roast pork before you, while there 
are several hired men there also. But there is also the 
far more numerous class, the farmer with fewer acres, 
who cannot afford to hire, except a few days in harvest; 
who does his own work and feeds, cloth* s and educates 
four or six children, while his wife and he deny them- 
selves everything except hard work. 
No doubt such an one has a gun and is a fond lover of 
shooting, but he must improve every fine day, for rainy 
weather, days spent in going to town to exchange farm 
produce for family necessaries, sickness and so on, tell at 
the end of the year. Now this man knows that the game 
sent away by market-gunners, carried by sportsmen to 
towns and cities, has almost cut off entirely his few days' 
shooting when he could give his family of little ones a 
treat of a fresh game dinner. Very hkely almost every 
man and boy from the nearest town has levied a tax on 
him and in some cases have left nothing for the family 
who own the land. All this would be well enough if the 
privileges were used with moderation, for the people of 
these United State should all enjoy these comforts. The 
average farmer I am sure is willing that those confined 
in cities should enjoy this opportunity of a few days at 
the game, and for one I wish, if it were possible, that 
every family could eat a few game dinners yearly. 
I also know that a fair proportion of gentlemen 
shooters fully understand all this, and ever treat the 
owner of the soil well, always asking the privilege of 
shooting. The return to that farm of such men is looked 
forward to by all its human occupants as a special pleas- 
ure; the head of the family shows all his little game 
pockets of squirrel, quail and rahbits, while in the house 
the best is being made ready. At parting, the town party 
insists that the farmer shall accept a share of game; the 
hand shakes are hearty and full of friendship, and the 
inmates of that home return to the night chores with a 
feeling of joy and comfort not to be experienced again for 
many a day to come. To such sportsmen I can take off 
my hat and bow to the very ground, God bless them. 
They are always welcome; 1 had far rather have them 
come than to keep the game to myself. In this case is is 
far better to give than to receive. 
I have seven neighbors living near by, and for some 
time have watched them from the game killing stand- 
point. One. has camped at a lake for a week's fishing 
but shot no game; one fished one day, no game killed; 
the third has shot one woodduck but caught no fish; the 
other four, myself included, have neither shot nor fished. 
All keep guns, love the sport and borrow my Forest and 
Stream. 
Now about pot-hunting; we are all poor shots on the 
wing, but good on the run, for fox, rabbits, etc. My 
family has not had fresh meat over one month out of 
twelve, and I will try to obtain a taste for them soon. So 
when the law is off on birds I will take a day off, and not 
having a bird dog will most certainly, if I should find a 
partridge sitting on a limb, shoot him on sight, and quick 
sight too, or if I have good luck enough to get sight of 
quail under similar circumstances I shall do the same. 
Babbits I always shoot before a dog; no ferrets for me. 
In fishing, when I get one on the hook out he comes; no 
fooling with a rod and fine too weak to hold him without 
the greatest care, and letting out 100ft. or more of line. I 
like the sport, but it is a fish breakfast I am after, and if 
fortunate enough for a meal or two I am satisfied. Three 
days out of a year, perhaps, for fishing, as many for 
squirrels and rabbits, will more than be an average for 
each of my seven farmer neighbors. 
The law is off on quail Oct. 1. We are very busy with 
the last of the fall seeding and corn-husking. We know 
of no bird dog. Who will tramp over our farms without 
asking with bird dog and gun? Where will the birds go 
that we have seen while plowing in the spring, who used 
to sit and look at us, sometimes only a few yards off, and 
call "Bob White;" and again in haying and harvesting 
the little round fuzzy fellows that would scuttle away to 
cover; and last in com cutting when we looked, no doubt 
for the last time, at the familiar coveys? Where I say, 
will the birds go? Here is the answer experience has 
taught: Two-thirds will be put into the game pockets of 
the market-gunner. And Grand Eapids, Hastings and 
other towns will turn out its army of shooters for a share 
of the rest. 
Do the majority of shooters realize the favor granted 
them and take only enough to satisfy their own wants? 
Do they ever think that the farmers could organize and 
each post every foot of land he owns, only doing what 
those rich in this world's goods have already done, what 
clubs are doing yearly.' Only yesterday a brother farmer 
replied to a question from me as to a good place for 
squirrels: 
"Well, yes, I don't mind telling you, as one of us. But 
when a load of the town chaps comes along in a wagon 
inquiring for game, I tell them there is no game about 
here. Why, last fall four fellows drove up and asked to 
put their horses in the barn. I did put them up and gave 
the horses hay, and them fellows all the milk they could 
drink, free of charge. Well, darn their hides! They 
broke some wires from a post, and the cows got into my 
corn. They left a gate open and the hogs got into the 
woods, and from there into a neighbor's corn, and I had 
to give him fifteen bushels of corn before he was satisfied. 
No, no more hunters from town for me." 
I told him that I knew lots of men in New York, 
Detroit, Grand Rapids, etc., that were far above that 
class, gentlemen shooters, who put no one out. "Mebby 
so," was all the answer I got. 
Well, I have wandered all over, lost myself from what 
I started to write, which was to thank you for your pic- 
ture of a "Pot-Hunter." One mossback who read it 
brought down his fist on his leg with a thump and said, 
"That's right, he's got it square." To the true sportsman 
we farmers will give a hearty handshake of welcome. 
All we have is free to them. J. C. Y. 
MAINE GAME. 
One of the first Boston parties to come out of the Maine 
woods since the open season on big game began is the 
Puffer party. The Puffers, in the soda fountain and ap- 
paratus business, under the name of A. D. Puffer & Sons, 
are great hunters, and they have taken a good deal of big 
game. They go to Maine nearly every season. In the 
party that has just returned were the senior Puffer and 
one of the sons; Mr. Coller, salesman for the Puffers; Mr. 
H. L. Buss, of the Boston Chamber of Commerce, and his 
brother, Mr. C. B. Buss. The party found big game 
plenty. They got several deer, and saw caribou, which 
they were not able to get. They went to Telos Lake, one 
of the Chamberlaine Chain, and not far from that lake. 
They had fair duek shooting, for so early in the season. 
This sort of sport, is reported to be great in that part of 
the country later in the fall. The black ducks stop for 
some weeks on their migrating south. They found some 
partridge shooting, but very few in flocks. 
The gunners are very plenty in the Maine woods. 
Senator W. P. Frye, of Maine, ib out from his camp at 
the head of Mooselucmaguntic Lake. A friend of the 
Senator says that he, with his party, would have been 
glad to have stayed in camp even a month longer but for 
the tremendous shooting going on in that vicinity. Men 
of a good deal of daring are afraid to go into the woods 
this fall in many parts of the Maine big-game country. 
Careless shooting is too common. 
An Oldtown, Me., dispatch to the daily papers tells of a 
railway train on the Bangor & Aroostook Railroad that is 
killing deer this fall. On Monday evening, Oct. 1, the 
train left Oldtown as usual. But when some twenty miles 
out it came to a halt from a rather curious cause. The 
passengers proceeded to investigate and found that the 
train had run over a deer that had evidently attempted to 
cross the track ahead of the steam horse. The report 
says that the passengers were several of them anxious 
to purchase the specimen, but the train hands preferred 
to take care of the booty themselves. The deer was taken 
to Houlton and dressed and was found to weigh nearly 
200ibs. If we are to believe the newspaper reports, the 
engineer of the same train says that his engine struck an- 
other deer on the same night, and that a couple of weeks 
ago two deer were killed by the same train. The story is 
worth investigating and the testimony of the engineer 
would be interesting reading. It is possible that the 
headlight of a moving locomotive may have a strange 
fascination for a deer in the night tirna. 
Mr. Wm. H. Goggin may be considered a lucky sports- 
man. Only twice has he been into Maine to hunt deer, 
and each time he has taken his deer. With three of his 
friends, he is just out of the woods. The party included 
Mr. Wm. P. Tenney, Mr. S. Matherson, Jr. and Mr. Wm. 
Gray. They visited Pleasant Lake, one of the Schoodic 
chain, and they think they have found an ideal spot. 
They, went to Kingman by rail, and thence to the lake by 
teams. Duck shooting was good ; the finest of black ducks. 
They were there before the trout law came on, and had 
.good trout fishing. That at Trout Lake, a pretty little 
lake up in the mountains, was particularly fine. Mr. 
Tenney landed a triplet catch — three at one cast. They 
shot partridges on the way up and had a genuine woods 
dinner. Partridges they found to be scarce as a rule, 
however. The first morning they tried for deer Mr. Gog-, 
gin shot a buck with four-pronged antlers, of which he is 
justly proud. Mr. Matherson was also fortunate enough 
to get his deer, though the first shot spoiled his antlers. 
Mr. Coggin and Mr. Matherson, who hunted together, 
came out first, leaving Mr. Tenney and Mr. Gray, deter- 
mined to secure a deer. This they accomplished in a day 
or two, and they are back in- Boston, greatly pleased with 
the spot they have found. SfECiAL. 
Roading a Diamond Back. 
While out quail shooting with my brother one day 
last spring the dog struck a trail on a piece of low, damp 
ground, thickly covered with a rank growth of ferns and 
gallberry bushes. After following the trail a short dis- 
tance the dog would stop every few steps as though afraid 
of flushing, then creep on again. I was standing off to 
one side, expecting every second to see the bird get up, 
when my brother caught the dog by the collar and pulled 
him back, calling to me at the same time. As soon as I 
got on the spot I saw the cause of this rather sudden 
move. There, right ahead of the dog, was a large rattle- 
snake wriggling slowly along. One charge of No. 8 shot 
in the head settled his snakeship, and as we concluded 
we didn't want any more hunting that afternoon, I car- 
ried him home and took the skin and rattles off. The 
snake was a diamond back and measured 5ft. 8in., having 
eleven rattles and button. . G. I. 
Fairbank, Fla., Oct. 3. 
ADIRONDACK DEER HOUNDING. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Your correspondent R. P. F. lias the right convictions 
in regard to the present status of the game law relating 
to our Adirondack deer, and when he says, "I consider 
hounding a sport in name only; a surer means of deer ex- 
termination does not exist," he hits the nail squarely on 
the head. The Salter, the cruster, the jacker and the 
trapper are protection in comparison. 
At the time of this writing, there are at least 150 dogs 
and more men and boys within a radius of three miles. 
I can hear more than fifty gunshots every day, and they 
kill from four to ten deer each day. For the past two 
years the principal stock raising in the town bordering 
the wilderness here, and whose inhabitants are princi- 
pally Germans and foreigners has been deer dogs. 
Almost every family has from one to five dogs, and dur- 
ing the open season for hounding they all go to the woods 
to hunt for meat. Last fall they took out over 300 deer; 
one man with his parties took out once thirty deer. This 
fall he has taken out two wagon loads already and has 
time for two more. 
I have done a good deal of work and paid out hundreds 
of dollars for deer protection. But when last fall I saw 
eight deer all together drawn upon the shore of a little 
lake here, beside six more reported killed in an adjoining 
lake I declared off. No more work, no more money for 
deer protection as long as the law sanctions thirty days 
each year of this water butchery. 
Of what advantage is it to deer protection to deprive the 
backwoodsman of his meat obtained at his salt lick; the 
business man who is obliged to take his vacation before 
the open season, or even the trapper among the lily pads 
of his deer, when every deer thus saved is saved only to 
be butchered in the water by meat-hunters in the hound- 
ing season. All game laws for the protection of our 
Adirondack deer will be a farce and of no avail so long as 
the State licenses a method of hunting that literally con- 
verts every lake and pond in the Adirondacks into a deer 
trap into which the deer are driven, and when there con- 
fined butchered with all the savage and bloody instincts 
of our race. Tell me what better is this than setting the 
trap among the lily pads? I am glad to say that I know 
of very many of my brother sportsman who would not 
abuse or take advantage of this easy method to slaughter 
deer. But then there is the game hog, and those who 
gauge sport only by the number killed, and so long as a 
method of hunting is legalized which requires no labor, 
no skill or experience, when the novice is as likely to_ be 
successful as the keenest sportsman, it induces every one 
and all classes to take a hand in hounding. There would 
be much less trouble in enforcing the game law if hound- 
ing were prohibited. Then if the law was violated it 
would be reported. 
Most people here in the woods feel pretty much as I do 
about it. No use, they say, to save deer for the water 
butchers in the fall. Stop hounding absolutely. Make a 
heavy penalty for having dogs on grounds where deer are 
found, and the law would be more readily and surely en- 
forced, and the increase and perpetuation of Adirondack 
deer would be insured for all time. But if hounding be 
continued the time is short when all the public or State 
lands will be void of this noble game. Mtjsset. 
A NEGLECTED QUAIL COUNTRY. 
On June 12, 1894, the writer was called to Grand Tower, 
111,, and spent nearly a week there, investigating among 
other things, its possibilities in the shooting line, and the 
place promises such sport with the quail next fall that I 
am moved to tell the readers of our paper about it. 
Grand Tower is on the east bank of the Mississippi 
River, 120 miles below St. Louis, and can be reached 
either by boat or rail. It is one of the straggling old 
river towns that are frequent along the lower portions of 
the big river; it stands on the brink of the stream. Above 
and below for many miles, and for some distance back of 
the town extend the river "bottoms," used for the pro- 
duction of wheat and corn, and it is here that the quail 
abound. During a drive of five miles through the 
bottoms I saw twelve pair of quail and heard a great 
many more. Trips in various directions showed them 
plenty everywhere, and Bob White could be heard almost 
any minute throughout the day. The season has been 
very dry, and a big crop of quail is the result. There 
will be abundance to satisfy any reasonable man, and this 
article is not written for the benefit of the game hog nor 
the market shooter, and it may be well to say that the 
market shooter would not be tolerated by the citizens. 
A gentleman, shooting only for the sport, using a little 
tact and distributing a few birds where they will do the 
most good, will have no difficulty in finding a great deal 
more good ground than ten men could use in a whole 
season. 
The ground is almost as level as a floor, dry under foot, 
most of it being sandy enough not to be very muddy even 
when wet. There are occasionally shallow bayous and 
patches of low ground that overflow at times, and here 
the weeds grow pretty tall. The corn gets too tall for 
good shooting in the early part of the season, but the dry 
weather will probably cut it short this year. There is a 
good deal of woods, but no brush, as the cattle keep it 
eaten down. In fact, there is but little cover that is not 
fairly good for both man and dog. Good shooting will be 
found within half a mile of the village, and extending 
indefinitely, both up and down the river. The easy way 
to do it is to have a man take you down the river in a skiff 
as far as you wish, and then shoot back to town. Then, 
done for the day, one doesn't have a long tramp to get 
back to the hotel. If shooting up the river, begin at town 
and have the boatman come up and bring you down. The 
current is so strong that a skiff can make ten miles an 
hour down stream, but only two going up. 
The Muddy, a sluggish, crooked stream with banks 15ft. 
high, winds through the bottom and empties into the 
river five miles below town. There are times when good 
mallard shooting can be had along it, and there are other 
small streams and bayous where ducks can be had, but if 
ducks are to be the principal game wanted, Grand Tower 
is not the best place to go for them. Very little quail 
shooting is ever done here by the natives, ducks and 
squirrels being their favorite game. There are two bird 
dogs in the town, and their owners do a little, very little, 
quail killing. Across the river the land is hilly, mostly 
covered with woods, but I saw and heard many quail over 
there, too. Some wild turkeys are to be found, but not 
in sufficient numbers to make them an object. 
