378 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. 3, 1894. 
STILL-HUNTING PARTRIDGES. 
The Weirs, N. H., Oct. 19.— Editor Forest and Stream: 
The query pi-opounded by "Tode" in your last week's issue 
calls for a more than passing interest by those who are in 
a position such as "Tode" so effectually describes. If I 
am a pot-hunter because I shoot my partridge or squirrel 
or even quail sitting and with a small-bore rifle after bav- 
ins successfully outwitted them in woodcraft and getting 
within rifle range, then I say I am proud to be a pot- 
hunter, or anything else by which you may designate 
that particular mode of hunting; and if all those who do 
thus are pot-hunters, then I throw up my hat and holloa 
"Hurrah for pot-hunters!" 
Now, different men have different opinions, and one 
man's opinion is as good as another's, so no doubt there be 
some who contemptuously ignore as a sportsman those as 
as "Tode" describes. Yet aerain, I have gone hunting 
with the man with the scatter gun, and have watched 
him stand in the woods waiting for his dog to put up a 
partridge and then shoot the bird either sitting or on the 
wing. If he brought his game down on the wing he was 
of course very much pleased, and forthwith delivered a 
rhapsody regarding the beauties of usiner the shotgun in 
preference to the rifle, and the science of shooting on the 
wing. The bearer of the little .22 Marlin patiently heard 
and said nothing. 
Now. note the result: the man with the scatter gun had 
his satisfaction simply in a pretty, difficult shot, differing 
from trap-shooting only in that it brings him in a result, 
something to show as trophy. Probably he has also en- 
joyed th,e woods and the fresh, free air and the tramp, 
and has loved to see his dog work among the bushes. But 
the dog has entirely supplied the knowledge of woodcraft 
necessary for the occasion. The shotgun user no doubt 
has enjoyed himself in his own way. 
The rifleman, clad in soft moccasins, with eye and ear 
strained and noiseless, elastic step, watches and listens, 
this time to hear the distant "drumming" of some cock 
grouse, hardly audible. Now it is the woodcraft of one 
against that of the other. It is more than a half hour's 
work to go step by step in the direction the sound comes 
from. Every nerve is strained, no less than if the game 
sought after were one of the antlered monarchs, until 
away ahead, there on that log. a little brown ball of 
feathers is spen majestically strutting up and down. The 
distance is 75yds. ; and the illumination of the range is 
not such as to call for high scores: but the ivory bead 
shows well up asrainst the grouse's body, and at the spite- 
ful spit of the little bullet all is over. Only one who has 
"been th' re" knows the peculiar satisfying taste that 
lingers about a man's mouth after such a stalk and such a 
shot. The man with the rifle has enjoyed himself and he 
means every word when he says, " I would rather get 
one bird with the rifle than two with the shotgun." He 
uses no dog, yet he loves the dog quite as well as his 
brother of the shotgun, but he relies upon his sure wood- 
craft to find his game and therein finds two-thirds of his 
enjoyment. 
But will anv one show me any elemet in this mode of 
hunting which would justly come under the heading of 
"pot-hunting?" Yet I have been called a pot-hunter for 
doing just as described above, while the dudeling who 
hires a guide and the guide's dog, and whose purpose in 
going into the woods is often only to get materia! where- 
upon to fabricate yarns to be told at the office and the 
club, this dudeling would-be woodsman is a "true sports- 
man." True, he does not waste game; and what he takes 
is taken fairly; but why is he any more a "true sports- 
man" than the man who uses the rifle and does his own 
hunting? Allow me to give you my humble definition of 
the much-abused term "true sportsman" — a gentleman 
who enjoys to hunt and fish. The fish and game hog, 
be he ever so well bred, is neither a gentleman nor sports- 
man, but it is hcwho is always first to raise the cry of 
"pot-hunter." Matterhorn. 
A MAINE GAME EXCHANGE. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Knowing the advanced position taken by your paper in 
all matters which interest sportsmen, I propose through 
you to tell your readers of a plan which I have to aid 
those who come to Maine for game. In Maine we have 
many things which those in other States wish to share. 
Those who sought our fine fishing and our beautiful 
scenery have been in great numbers and departed; and 
now with falling leaves comes the great rush of those 
whose only object is game, and that in the largest quan- 
tity and shortest time in which it can be obtained. The 
number coming may be judged when I say that the pa- 
pers reported 300 ready to start into the woods from 
Moosehead alone Oct. 1, following fully as large a crowd 
of "sooners" who had "taken time by the forelock" and 
gone in a week before to have their game ready before 
the others arrived. By actual count there were thirty 
canoes with sixty men on Sept. 26. leaving on the P. & 
A. R.R. A B mgor daily reported one day last week two 
bears, two moose, two caribou and forty-five deer as 
coming in on the cars that day. 
Now such a rush of necessity causes a great deal of in- 
convenience to the visiting sportsmen and danger to 
others in the woods. The sfjortsmen often have to submit 
to waiting hours at a comfortable hotel for guides to get 
ready. Then they are obliged to walk on Carries where 
teams cannot be hired. Then they have to sit cramped 
up in canoes and endure all the hardships of sitting in 
chairs with only blankets to sit on, while the guide en- 
joys the luxury of sitting on a bare canoe bar. Then they 
have to wait for the guide to hunt up the game for them 
and often for him to kill it, or buy it for them of some 
native; and often when this cannot be done they are 
obliged to go to the Bangor markets and take just what 
they can get, and submit to the extortionate charges of 
those who take advantage of their necessity. 
I do not mean that all who come here get their game in 
this way; but so many do that those who kill theirs fairly 
get no credit for it, especially as those who bag, usually 
take pains to give reporters more minute and thrilling 
accounts of the capture of their' game than those who 
really kill what they bring in are accustomed to do. But 
that if all obtained game at one place no deception would 
be practiced. 
Then again no one is safe in the woods with such an 
army of men of no experience, ready to fire at the first 
thing that moves. Every year more or less shoot them- 
selves or others, besides killing sheep, cattle and horses. 
I know that in the latter part of the season when it is 
cold enough for game to keep, lately a much easier and 
better way has been found. Then when the guides at 
some hunting camp have moose or other game ready 
killed, they telegraph and all the hunter has to do is to 
come for a sure thing. Then he can lie around camp and 
smoke, and eat venison a few days, and get his story 
made up so that all parts will fit nicely; then he can 
come out with his game and no one can dispute, but 
what the game is actually there to be seen; and when he 
tells them here he waded alone in the unbroken forests 
through 2ft. of snow, here he came on his victim and 
dropped him dead at the first shot at 250 to 300yds. (it is 
better to put it at least 200yds., as it reflects credit on 
one's rifle as well as himself), and tells of the terrible 
labor of getting the game to the cars; and then as his 
story has the first start and the guide is well-fed not to 
give him away, he at once becomes the hero of the hour. 
Now thinking this all over and trying in the interest of 
all concerned to devise a way which will make things 
easier, I have thought that a game exchange, a kind of 
clearing house, might be established at Bangor, which 
would save visiting sportsmen no end of trouble, besides 
great expense. As it is now, when a large part of our 
best hunters are employed as guides, our people probably 
kill half the game carried out by the true sportsmen. 
Now if the guides did not have to take the sports round, 
they could easily kill all which would be needed, and 
bring it to Bangor, and get full as good pay and much 
less vexatious work. There could be arranged a want 
and supply bureau, so that a list could be kept of those 
wanting game; and when there was a supply, they 
could at once order just what they wanted. It now often 
happens that when one wants bear or moose, he can only 
get deer or caribou, which he does not wish; but by my 
plan any one could get the exact thing he wanted, and 
would know the exact cost of his trip beforehand. 
If one wanted to make a big show he could board at 
one of the Bangor hotels and have his choice of high or 
low prices, instead of all the hardships of spring beds and 
poor mattresses in the common hunting camps. Then 
when ready, he could return home with his load of game 
fresh as a daisy. He would probably be obliged to pay a 
trifle higher than the same game would sell for in Boston, 
to prevent the market men from interfering and buying 
it to ship as they are now said to do; also he would prob- 
ably have to "tip" the local wardens enough to make up 
for what they would lose by not having their accustomed 
share in the market men's profits for protecting them; 
but this would be no more than would be fair, as no one 
could be expected to give up their legitimate business for 
another's benefit without reasonable compensation, and 
all sportsmen will find most of our wardens good fellows 
and willing to do anything in reason. 
Now, I claim that such an arrangement would be a 
great benefit to all concerned. The sportsman could know 
just how long he would be gone, and would be at much 
less expense and inconvenience. The guide could make 
as much and have a much more pleasant employment. 
There would be no danger of accidents and no irritation 
among settlers who have cattle shot or wounded. Farmers 
are a most unreasonable class, and seem to think that they 
have a perfect right to let their cattle roam in their pas- 
tures just where they please as long as they own the land. 
Now, as all our hunters can tell a calf or horse from a 
deer or moose, this friction, which threatens to become 
serious, would be entirely avoided. The wardens would 
approve of it, as it would give them a chance to show 
their willingness to suffer for the public good. In short, 
I do not pr-f* why every one would not be benefited by it, 
except a few railroads and up-river camps, and I am not 
planning for their benefit, but am lookin g solely at what 
will be of the greatest good to those interested in game. 
So along with your plank of "No sale of game," please 
insert another for "A Game Exchange in Maine." 
Even Deal. 
Bangor, Me. 
TEXAS AND THE SOUTHWEST. 
Ducks and Snipe. 
San Antonio, Texas. — I had a good evening on green 
and blue-winged teal last week. Br. Watts, Mr. G-illette, 
Postmaster Joe George, and the writer, took an afternoon 
at Mitchell's Lake. Knowing where there usually swims 
a bunch of teal in a round pond in the middle of the 
swamp, I strung out the party on the line of the antici- 
pated flight and crept up to the water hole. It was full 
of teal that were quacking, whistling and generally enjoy- 
ing themselves under the cbaperonage of a few motherly 
sprigs, whose long necks stretched at full length to dis- 
cover what that was crawling through the brush. The 
ducks were very tame and I had a beautiful pot-hunter 
chance to murder, which I did not embrace. I intended 
to flush the whole lot without shooting, knowing they 
would circle back several times. But then as the birds 
thundered out a pair of fat and lubberly gadwalls leaped 
from the cover, which was too much for me. The little 
20-gauge was quickly placed ahead of the first bird, the 
trigger pulled, and as the first bird checked a shapeless mass 
in mid air the second barrel puffed a hat full of feathers 
out the second sprig. Then the air became alive with 
buzzing teal. They circled over the party strung out 
along the water course and I saw several fall. They 
came back to me and I punched the life out of nine 
before the flight stopped. 
It was then about a half hour before sundown and we 
took a turn after jacksnipe, and, while they were not ex- 
ceedingly plentiful, we managed to bag about twenty-five 
of the genus Scolopax. 
Evening Teal. 
Just as the sun rays were cleaving the tops of the live 
oaks on the beautiful point at the old club house, the 
swift-winged and twisting teal began to come in. First 
in pairs, then in flocks, until the air seemed alive with 
them. We did not kill a great many. The gait was 
rather swift, but one of those swifters well killed is worth 
a dozen such shots as I had at the pair of fat and lazy 
sprigs. We killed exactly nine to each gun. Not a big 
killing, but the time passed was very pleasant. 
On our return to the wagon, a rattlesnake was found 
investigating the camp. A billet of wood sent his soul to 
Beelzebub, and in an hour we were in the city. 
Protection Needed. 
Nearly every sportsman who has been out this season 
after quail reports that not more than one-half the birds 
they flush are large enough to kill. Some coveys have 
been seen that are hardly able to take wing. The Texas, 
season ought to be shortened. 
A Good Shot. 
Dr. Jesse Bell, a young and prominent disciple of 
iEsculapius whose shingle swings in the San Antonio 
breeze, is an ardent sportsman, and some five years ago,in 
company with the writer was he visiting a friend 7 away 
up in the wildest part of Edwards county. There the 
Messina or black quail abounds and we had some fare 
sport. Having climbed up the divide one morning after" 
a big buck that we bad often seen, a bevy of Bob Whites 
was flushed and one saucy cock alighted on the topmost ■ 
limb of a convenient mesquite. 
"Watch me blow his head off," said the embryo doctor; 
and he blazed away with the .38 Winchester. The bird 
even disdained to fly in recognition and the doctor 
quickly slipped another cartridge into the empty cham- 
ber and fired again and again with exactly the same 
result. "Confound that quail," quoth he of the rifle, and 
the bird dropped. 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 
[From our Staff Correspondent.} 
Chicago, III., Oct. 25.— On Monday, Oct. 22, at his resi- 
dence in this city, there passed away one of the oldest, 
best-known and best-beloved of the sportsmen of Chicago. 
Mr. Joseph Card, or Uncle Joe Card, as he was univers- 
ally known, was a character of rare and lovable sort. 
No man ever saw him otherwise than in good humor, and 
no one ever heard him utter an unkind word of any 
human being. His was a nature essentially large and 
charitable, and if he had faults of his own, no one in 
Chicago could have told what they were. In mind as well 
as body his whole expression was of content, god nature 
and generousness. 
Mr. Card was one of the oldest members of the Mak- 
saw-ba Club and a regular attendant at the grounds on 
the Kankakee. In his later years he became very fond 
of fishing, and he was always successful with the bass, 
nearly always having the largest and best take of the day. 
He was the very ideal picture of the true angler, jolly, 
happy and contented, rain or shine, and always with a 
hope for better days rather than a prophet of dark clouds. 
At the club house he was treated with the deference due 
his years and character, and it will be a long time before 
his quaint sayings and ' his oddities of expression will 
have passed out of quotation there. 
Mr. Card was also a member of the largest Toledo 
ducking club, or rather the wealthiest, and he usually 
went to Lake Erie for the duck shooting which he liked 
so well . He was in comfortable circumstances, and a 
good type of the best modern sportsmanship, owing no 
man anything, and grudging no man anything. 
Mr. Card's illness was of very long standing, and he 
knew years ago that he could never be well, but he looked 
the truth squarely and unflinchingly in the face, and no 
one ever heard him voice a feeling of rebellion or of fear. 
When the boys called on him he always told them he 
thought he was "a little better," though all the time he 
knew he never would be better. So last Monday the end 
came and he died as peacefully and contentedly as he had 
lived. The funeral ceremonies of last Wednesday were 
attended by a large number of Mr. Card's sportsmen 
friends, and the boys are very quiet now when they men- 
tion Uncle Joe. 
Caught in a Sink Box. 
Last week I spoke of the successful termination of the 
litigation which has been troubbng the Horicon clubs. 
Grady, the permit seller, has called in all his permits and 
retired from the field with the assurance that he will fight 
no more. It happened that he did not get word to all his 
dupes soon enough, and out of this grew an interesting 
bit of news. Last Sunday Percy Stone was going over 
the Diana grounds and heard firing in what is called the 
Big Lake. He and his pusher found an iron boat hid in 
the reeds, and this they promptly shot full of holes and 
sunk, confiscating the game they found in it. A little 
further on they discovered a man shooting from a sink 
box in the middle of the lake — thus committing trespass 
and violating a State law at the same time. Stone went 
up to him, asked him what he was doing there, took away 
his gun, removed the shells, took the man ashore and 
walked him off the marsh. The fellow begged lustily, 
and promised all sorts of things if left alone. He will be 
prosecuted under the State law first and then put through 
a little course of trespass. The fellow turns out to be a 
man by the name of Hanson, and is a traveling man from 
Cincinnati, who hangs around the shooters of Chicago 
and tries to pose as a sportsman. He bought a Grady per- 
mit in Chicago, and is now in a very fair way indeed to 
learn how worthless that is. The Horicon men will finish 
out all the poaching on those grounds now, and the mem- 
bers are jubilant this week. 
Mr. Hoyt, of New York city, was at the upper club last 
week, though at last accounts he had not had a good day. 
Mr. Hoyt was one of the six New York men to join the 
Diana Club last year. High bag last Saturday was 26, by 
Mr. Weber, of Chicago. Roll Organ and mypelf bagged a 
dozen teal in a little hole we found, only shooting about 
twenty minutes; but for the rest of the day did not get 
much shooting, though Mr. Organ got half a dozen nice 
mallards the day bef ore. The shooting was very light. 
The snipe seem now to be working pretty well south. 
There were very few at Horicon. At Oconomowoc, Wis., 
there was fine shooting last week. Along the Kankakee 
the snipe are still lingering, and there should be some fun 
there yet a while. At Water Valley, Ind., the sport at 
snipe has been great for-the past two weeks. 
Deer in the Settlements. 
Oct. 27. — This week at Ashland, Wis., a deer pursued 
by hounds ran through the middle of the city into a pri- 
vate residence, bounding up stairs and at length in its 
fright leaping out of the second story window. In its fall 
it struck upon a picket fence and broke its hind leg, 
whereupon it was killed by members of the fire brigade. 
Some friends of mine were speaking of this incident 
and one of them said that a few years ago he was once 
sitting in a barber shop in Marquette, Mich., when a deer 
ran down the main street of the town. At the edge of 
the town it stopped, apparently much frightened and at 
a loss what to do. It finally escaped in the woods, how- 
