368 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. 27, 1894 
VERMONT AS A WILD BEAST PRESERVE. 
Ferrisburgh, Vt, , Oct. 16. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Perhaps it may interest some of your readers and sur- 
prise tbem almost as much as it did us natives to learn 
what a game preserve our State has become, as appears 
by a letter from a correspondent of the Boston Journal, 
which I inclose with this. We were led to believe from 
some newspaper accounts that there were abandoned farms 
enough to furnish grazing for all the deer without oblig- 
ing them to invade the village gardens, but we also be- 
lieved that Baron Munchausen was dead. We are devoutly 
thankful that the bears are so good natured, and our 
children so well-mannered that ;they never "sass" old 
people. The bears would be very good for young sports- 
men to "learn on," but visiting sportsmen mustremember 
that the law is not off on deer, and come loaded only for 
b'ar. Awahsoose. 
The letter reads: 
As a natural paradise for animals and winged game Vermont 
promises to break all modern records. In fact, in some sections of the 
Mountain Commonwealth the farmers are actually suffering from the 
overabundance and unprecedented tameness of deer and partridges. 
They invade the fields, and, in some instances the gardens of the plan- 
tations, feeding on the grain and the vegetables until they have be- 
come a comrc on nuisance, which the farmer is prohibited from rid- 
ding himself of because of the laws protecting all game. It is not un- 
common to find deer feeding peacefully among the domestic animals 
in the pasture or stalking boldly along over the highways. 
Here is a condition of affairs unknown since the days of the pioneer 
or since the days when the streams, the lakes and the mountains of 
Vermont were the favorite fishing and hunting grounds of the Iro- 
quois. There were moose and deer and bears and foxes in plenty in 
those days, but they had been thinned out by the opening of the pres- 
ent century, or had emigrated across country into the then unknown 
Adirondack wilderness. 
So numerous and troublesome have the deer now become that farm- 
ers near Rutland have complained because their grain, especially their 
wheat, buckweat and corn, and their vegetables are being devoured 
by the invaders. They say it is also an annoyance to have the deer 
herding with the domestic animals. This may strike the lovers of 
animals as a beautiful sight, but some of the farmers will seek redresa 
from the game association. 
A farmer living five miles from Rutland entered complaint last week 
that a herd of deer destroyed an acre and a half of buckwheat and de- 
voured his vegetables. Mr. George H. Woodward of the mountainous 
community of Cuttingsville reports that the deer come into his fields 
seven or eight strong every afternoon at sundown and stay until he 
drives them away in the morning. They are so tame they do not leave 
their feeding grounds or the yards where cows are kept at night until 
some person approaches within three or four rods. Even then they 
sometimes refuse to move off, and actually have to be driven away. 
They have great fondness for herdiner with domestic animals, especi- 
ally cows. Occasionally a bull shows fight, but they seem not to care 
for his angry, threatening movements. What the result would be in 
a fair field and fair fight none can predict. 
Within two miles of Rutland the other day two deer were met trot- 
ting along the traveled road as docile as a house dog. Reports come 
of them in all sections of the mountainous regions, and the feeding 
with cows in the pastures is of frequent occurrence. One day two 
weeks ago a man crossing the mountain to Woodstock saw fifteen of 
the fleet-footed animals at close range. A fox hunter a fortnight ago 
ran into seven in the vicinity of Plymouth. 
Formers in the mountains also complain of the abundance of par- 
tridges, which overrun their gardens, making havoc with fruit and 
berries, flowers and growing vegetables. 
Bears also are very numerous, and often with their young take a 
hand in destroying fruit and vegetables, and are almost as tame as 
the wild deer unless their cubs are molested. Their young are of 
varied sizes and weieht, and are equally as destructive as their parents. 
These Vermont bears are not only getting plentiful in the woods, but 
they are learning how to avoid some of the annoyances that come 
with advanced civilization. Mr. Silas N. Wheeler has a hilly farm in 
Stamford. Mr. Wheeler recently went into a pasture and saw a good 
sized cub eating: sweet apples. The animal was in a corner made by 
two barbed wire fences. He thought if he could entangle the young 
bear in the barbed wire fence he would have a tfood opportunity of 
killing him. He therefore drove him on the run for the fence, but 
the bear jumped over the top of the wire as nimbly as an athlete 
could do it and escaped in the woods. 
Bears have often been seen roaming about the open country. One 
was seen the other day on what is known as Campbell Hill on the 
quarter-line road; in the vicinity of several residences another was 
roaming about with her cubs on an opening in the woods on a small 
mountain called Bald Mountain, both in plain sight of the city of Rut- 
land and not far distant. On the eastern and southern outskirts of 
the city gardens have been invaded at night, both by deer and bears. 
A deer was seen running along &.llen street within the city limits a 
few weeks ago, but soon taking fright at a locomotive whistle leaped 
the fence and made haste for the near-by woods 
The protection the wild animals of Vermont have received from the 
State laws in the effort to allow the animals to breed unhindered by 
the sportsman is likely to be somewhat modified in the near future. 
The law affecting deer is and has been for years prohibitive, and has 
been rigidly observed It was first extended to ten years, and then to 
fifteen years, and now is operative until 1900 unless repealed or modi- 
fled by the next Legislature, which meets in October. By this law the 
killing or capturing of deer or the mere possession of its meat, is 
punishable by a fine of $50, and the informant of such deer killing gets 
half the fine. A dog found pursuing a deer is liaMe to be shot. 
The increase in the number of noxious animals in Vermont is one of 
the unlooked for results of the restrictive laws, for the forests are 
little hunted nowadays, and the bay of the deerhounds has not been 
heard for years. There is thus a vast and beautiful country up there 
among the mountains where the animals of the chase have increased 
and multiplied until the hard-working Vermont farmers have found 
in them a constant menace to their crops, and are crying aloud for 
protection. 
FLORIDA BEARS AND COWBOYS. 
Spending the winter in the wilderness of south Florida 
on the verge of the Everglades, I was impressed by the 
novel manner in which the cowboys hunt the black bear 
(Ursus amerieanus). These brutes are very numerous 
here and make sad havoc with the droves of hogs which 
rove through the piney woods, feeding themselves on 
mast and roots, and rarely seen by their owners except 
when "rounded up" for branding the increase, or for ship- 
ment alive to Jacksonville. Bears are also very destruc- 
tive to the sheep, which are just being introduced, 
When a family of bears get on to a "range," their pres- 
ence at once becomes manifest, and the rough riders 
organize a hunt to destroy them. We had the pleasure of 
participating in a "bear drive," as they are called, one 
day in January. The meet was at a cracker store deep in 
the backwoods and the hour sunrise. 
Eight cowboys suitably mounted and caparisoned had 
arrived before us, and with our party of two made up the 
drive. A word about these cowboys who although of as 
distinct a type as their western cousins have never been 
described. They are of mixed Spanish and cracker des- 
cent, born in the saddle one might say, certainly live and 
die in it. Their sole concern is to attend the great herds 
of cattle and hogs that wander over the prairies, see that 
they do not wander off the range, get mired in the "cut 
throats," or eaten by wild varmints. They are the most 
graceful and fearless of rid< rs, sometimes in their all 
night rides sleeping in the saddle. Their dress is pictur- 
esque, a wide sombrero, gray woolen shirt with gay 
stripes red or blue, butternut-colored breeches of home- 
spun, and heavy cowhide shoes armed with long spurs. 
Their horse furniture is a Mexican saddle with high pom- 
mel and elaborately embossed, a whip with a lash eight 
or ten feet long and handle of a deer's foreleg and hoof 
with which and their musical cry of oooe, oe, oe, they, 
control their herds, and a good rifle carried across the 
saddle bow. The eight had made chairs of their steeds 
by throwing one leg over the animal's e neck, and crossing 
the other upon it, sitting as easily as though in a rocking 
chair. 
The hounds, five in number, sat sedately on their 
haunches waiting for the party to set out. We were soon 
under way heading for a large bay head of several acres 
lying off to the westward, and a bay head is a small 
swamp in the high, dry piney woods covered with a dense 
growth of palmetto, gum, bay, cypress, water oak and 
tropical plants and vines, forming a jungle, leaving a 
broad trail in the dew-gemmed wire grass and saw pal- 
metto of the forest. 
Arrived at the bay head we circumnavigated it. "Old 
man Buster," our leader, narrowly scanned the ground 
for any signs of a bear trail leading into it; at last he saw 
something that caused him to drop from his saddle and 
examine the ground closely where a little brook flowed 
into the swamp. Sure enough, two broad trails were 
plainly perceivable there. 
"Boys," said the old hunter, "the's two b'ar gone in ther' 
not an hour ago; put on the dawgs." The -brutes took 
the trail at once, giving mouth and dashing into the 
thicket. 
"Spread out, men," continued the old man, "form aline 
around the bay head with cocked rifles, and if one makes 
a break, see that you drop him." At this moment the 
dogs set up a clamor, 
"I'll be doggoned," said Buster, "ef old Luce aint treed 
one of the varmints a'ready. Squire, you an' Budd lope 
in and fetch him down. Rest on ye watch out." 
Squire and Budd, two keen-eyed young fellows with the 
reputation of crack shots, disappeared in the dense woods 
growth. The rest of us waited with rifles cocked, one at 
least in breathless suspense. Presently we heard a rifle 
shot, followed by the crashing, rending sound of a heavy 
body falling through branches, followed soon by a scratch- 
ing sound, a warning cry from Squire and Budd, the rush 
of a heavy body through the thicket; the next moment a 
magnificent black bear broke cover midway between 
Buster and myself, followed by the hounds in full cry. 
My bullet caused him to turn and bite savagely at the 
wound, but Buster's behind the foreshoulder tumbled him 
over in a heap. 
Some of the men gathered about us; others in obedience 
to a call from Squire plunged into the swamp and soon 
appeared, dragging out the heavy carcass of a second 
bear. Leaning on his, rifle, Squire thus told the story of 
his adventure: 
"I'm doggoned if them two b'ar weren't up the same 
tree. When we got in we found old Luce barkin' up a 
big cypress the top so kivered with moss you mought as 
well a looked intu a June fog. Howsomever, after five 
minnits I could make out a black outline in er branches 
and let drive. Well, gentlemen, a 400-pound b'ar fallin 
100ft. an landin' in er water not a yard from ye naterally 
makes a disturbance, and thets why Budd an'.'me didn't 
see er second b'ar come slippin' down er tree — not till he 
jumped — an our eyes bein' full of water an' mud we 
couldn't shoot, only yell; however, I'm glad you focht 
him." 
We took two other bear that day beside a deer that the 
dogs started by a lakeside where it was feeding. We 
saw abundant signs of turkey but took none, the birds 
being exceedingly sby. The most successful method of 
hunting them is by discovering their roosts in the bay 
heads and lying in wait either at sunset when they go in 
from their feeding grounds or at daylight when they fly 
down. Panthers are occasionally shot, with catamount, 
foxes that climb trees, and alligators. Taken all in all the 
interior of the South Florida wilderness 'is fairly entitled 
to rank as a sportsman's paradise. Charles Burr Todd. 
Avon P-ark, DeSoto Co., Fla. 
AN OUTING IN WYOMING. 
Chambersburg, Pa., Oct. 9. — I want to tell you how I 
secured my first deer. The story will not be particularly 
interesting to many of your readers; certainly not to 
those who have had such stupendous "luck" as many of 
the writers whose stories and experiences I have read in 
your columns, all of which were very entertaining to me, 
but got to be rather discouraging because my experiences 
from year to year seemed so tame in comparison. But 
just here is where I hope to be of some comfort to any of 
your readers who, somewhat like myself perhaps, didn't 
get "big game," or a "wagon load" of small game every 
time they went for it. 
My attempts to shoot a deer began away back in the 
fall of 77 a t Mountain Falls, Frederick county, Va. I 
was young then, and full of energy and perseverance, and 
what I lacked in experience and cunning was made up in 
hard work. I would start, after a very early breakfast, 
and keep at it bard all day, only stopping long enough at 
noon to eat a plain "snack," which had been carried in 
my pocket, and on coming in at night would have a 
pheasant or two, or perhaps only a rabbit or a squirrel. 
Well, my many different hunting trips from then until 
September, 1894, at Camp Success on the Big Horn Moun- 
tain in Wyoming, on the headwaters of Powder River, 
were a succession of disappointments not altogether dissim- 
ilar to my first experience in Virginia. The different trips 
look me to Maine, Pennsylvania, Virginia, West Virginia, 
Maryland and Florida several times, and Michigan, Wis- 
consin and Nebraska, having hunted in nine different 
States, frequently seeing deer, and sometimes getting 
shots at them, but never successfully. 
In the fall of '89 I went with a friend and others to a 
noted lake in Maine, thirty miles by private conveyance 
from Bangor, where this friend had been going every fall 
for ten years previously, and always getting deer, some- 
times as many as seven. The truth of this I could not 
doubt, for this friend had photographs to show that dis- 
played the game hung up. But when I appeared at the 
camp and cast my lot with the heretofore successful 
hunters, not a deer was even seen, much less shot. In- 
deed my reputation had become by this time so notorious 
that my friend dubbed me "Jonah," and has never since 
invited me to join him, declaring that my presence would 
be an omen of "no deer." I have on several occasions 
told this friend that such superstition was not becoming 
in a thoroughbred sportsman, but now looking back over 
those years of hardships, disappointments, and no deer, I 
dwell with increasing satisfaction, as the days and weeks 
go by, on the very pleasant and triumphant hunt in 
which I secured my first deer. 
Aug. 31, 1894, Col. C, Vice-Pres. K M Dr. P., E. J. Mc, 
Esq. and your humble servant left the loveliest spot of the 
most beautiful valley of Pennsylvania, and reached 
Omaha about 10 Sunday morning. The further west we 
went the newer and wilder and more interesting became 
the country. Monday, Sept. 3. we were passing through 
the southwest corner of South Dakota and the northeast- 
ern part of Wyoming, arriving at Clearmont, the end of 
our railroad journey, at 4:40 P. M. During the afternoon 
we passed the Devil's Tower, about thirty miles to the 
northward, but which seemed, on account of the rare and 
pure atmosphere and also because of the size and stupend- 
ous height of the tower, to be not more than one-third of 
that distance. . Then from the other side of the car could 
be seen the Three Pumpkin Buttes towering skyward 
and eighty-five miles away. The Devil's Tower was sur- 
mounted about a year ago by some venturesome fellow, 
and is said to be 800ft. high, 
Upon coming into the valley of the Clearwater our eyes 
were rested by the grateful sight of the results of irriga- 
tion. Oats, alfalfa, corn, etc. , were growing in most lux- 
uriant profusion. This valley we followed from the 
railroad to Buffalo, a distance of thirty-six miles. Our 
host Tommy Gardner, and nis neighbor, Billy Brock, met 
us on the arrival of our train with two two-horse spring 
wagons, and by 5 o'clock (twenty minutes after the arrival 
of the train) we were all comfortably settled in the 
wagons and on the road for Buffalo. 
Our ride to Buffalo was made in about six hours, was 
enjoyed by all, and was uneventful except for a little epi- 
sode at Ranch, which we reached about 10 o'clock 
P. M. Here Tommy treated us to our first taste of cow- 
boy hospitality in true wild and woolly Western style. 
Being in the forward wagon, he stopped here and entered 
the unbarred ranch without much ceremony, and striking 
a light, he began to rustle around for coffee and some- 
thing to eat. Whether he called for the cook to get up or 
not, I don't know; but as I entered the ranch Johnny, the 
cook, made his appearance only partly dressed, and rubbing 
his eyes to get better awake, wanted to know "Who the 
devil are you, anyhow? I don't know one of you. We 
don't keep a road ranch." This and much more that is 
better unwritten; Tommy all the time proceeding with his 
efforts to get the fire started and rummaging for coffee, 
tea, etc., etc. The Colonel, not being fully informed of 
the rights vested in Gardner by the owner of this ranch, 
nor of the old custom that prevailed in the halcyon days 
between cook and cowboy , protested against the incivility 
of abusing a man in his own house (thinking of course 
that Johnny was owner), and insisted that we move on to 
Buffalo. Some of us also thought that this would be the 
better thing to do; but, realizing now how cold and chilly 
we were, and the comfort of the fast reviving fire and 
prospects of something to eat and drink, concluded to see 
the fun through. 
The V, P. being Bomewhatof a "rustler," too, understood 
the situation and put in some work through that part of 
the medicine chest marked "for snakes" by the Doctor, 
which mellowed down Johnny so completely that in about 
ten minutes we might have had everything in the ranch, 
with a hearty welcome to boot from Johnny. This was a 
very laughable and practical illustration of what a dry 
and sleepy man will do for a little "good medicine." 
Being rested and refreshed, we returned to the wagons 
and quickly passed over the remaining ten miles of our 
journey to Buffalo. 
Tuesday morning, Sept. 4, at 10 o'clock we started for 
Gardner's Ranch, on the Red Fork of the Powder River, a 
distance of 65 miles. About 2 o'clock we arrived at Carr's 
Ranch, and stopping here inquired whether we could get 
dinner. Mr. Carr came up from the field (where he had 
been cutting oats) and in a very friendly and hospitable 
manner declared we were welcome to the best he had, but 
that h'S larder was low, that he had no fresh meat, but we 
should have some bacon, potatoes, tea, etc., etc. One of 
our hunters, thinking that perhaps he might Becure some 
game while dinner was being prepared, started out with 
his Winchester repeating shotgun, and in ten minutes 
returned to the ranch with six sage hens, one of these (the 
first one killed) being shot by Brock with his rifle and the 
other five with five consecutive shells from the shotgun on 
the first rise of the flock of 12 or 15, as they got up some- 
what scattered and in the usual dilatory way of the young 
that have not before been shot at. 
Within about half an hour after our alighting at this 
ranch we were eating as good a dinner as ever the writer 
sat down to, consisting of young sage hens, bacon, pota- 
toes, tea and bread. I had frequently heard that these 
birds were not edible, owing to a very disagreeable "sage" 
flavor, but I must declare that they were as palatable to 
me as good game usually is, and all seemed to enjoy them 
except the Dector. The water here was carried about five 
miles and was no little alkaline. 
The greater part of the ride to-day was over tolerably 
good roads, fairly well bridged for as sparsely settled a 
country. About dusk as we descended from the Macy to 
the North Fork of Powder River, we struck an old Sioux 
trail, plainly marked by heaps or mounds of small stones, 
said to have been placed there by the noble red man's 
squaw years and years ago. I had frequently heard that 
"when you strike a well marked Sioux trail you are sure 
to be on the most direct road between two points." It ran 
in our direction and we had to take it, but I thought at 
the time if that was a fair sample of "Poor Lo's" engineer- 
ing, no wonder the unappreciative whites have sent them 
to the happy hunting grounds. The Colonel, too, seemed to 
snare my disgust at the steep gradients and sharp curves 
of this old highway. 
At dark we reined up at Morgridge's ranch, somewhat 
tired, very hungry and altogether glad of the opporunity 
to give our horses a chance to rest. Very thoughtfully 
and considerately (as I supposed) I suggested to the old 
lady of the ranch that there was hung up quite a bunch 
of nice, fat, young sage hens and a jack-rabbit at the 
back of the ranch, but she, seemingly indignant said, "We 
don't consider sage hens and jacks game, indeed we get 
tired of antelope, venison and trout." OF course I was 
silenced, but my private opinion after further observation 
is that much of that sentiment was "pleasures of memory." 
When the madam allotted the beds and the Doctor and 
I found that our "berth checks" called for a bed on the 
floor we naturally felt a little envious of those who drew 
"sure enough" beds, but when we found out later the 
true inwardness of the matter we congratulated ourselves 
that we had used our own bedding, even though the soft 
side of that floor did not conform strictly to the outlines 
of our sides and back. 
Wednesday morning we got our first sight of antelope. 
Three appeared on the top of a hill about two hundred 
yards to our left as we jpassed and then disappeared 
