38o 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. 3, 1894. 
The Old Ohio Home. 
California. — It is but twelve short years since Billy 
and I were wont to take our guns and in the walk of a 
few miles to the lake would bag a goodly number of squir- 
rels, and on that lake with the addition of Moss and Jack 
to our party we would have «some great sport with the 
wild fowl. The same water in season afforded some 
grand sport with the rod, for pike, bass and yellow-perch 
were most frequently caught. At Van Horn's, south of 
town, some gold-letter days have been passed with Dick 
and the woodcock, that bird so dear to the sportsman. 
"West of town a tamarack swamp or two afforded some 
great grouse shooting, while to the south and east our 
days with Bob White will never be forgotten. 
Since then there has been a boom; «nd the results while 
pleasing no doubt to many, have had the directly opposite 
effect on me. The quail have gone and at the woodcock 
marsh the sigD (no shooting) seemed out of place where 
before all had been as free as air. The timberland and 
tamarack swamp have been converted into dollars, while 
the lake that afforded the boys such sport is lower by sev- 
eral feet and the fishing that the proprietors of two fash- 
ionable hotels had to offer consisted of one poor bass 
about six inches in length, which we in charity returned 
to the water. The companions who formed the best part 
of those days are gone. Billy I have not seen; Moss is in 
the journalistic field; Dick is well known to your readers; 
while the writer, like Jack, has matrimonial ties, that, 
while pleasant, only bring into bright relief the old days. 
The old home is changed so much that it is home no 
longer, only the place remains. One companion we have 
not mentioned before, but by long odds the best, the old 
pointer Scott, disappeared- mysteriously a short time 
before I concluded that there were too many people there. 
While I have owned many dogs since then, there will 
always be a warm place for old Scott, the bravest and 
truest dog I ever knew. He no doubt succumbed to 
some one's ill will, but with the Rev. Adams, I often ask — 
"Where is my dog?" Poor old Scott; were you but alive 
I know that one at least would have a friendly greeting 
for The Wanderer. 
The Pennsylvania Bear and Deer Stock. 
Clearfield, Pa., Oct. 22.— Editor Forest and Stream; 
On last Saturday Bill and John Condron, two hunters 
from the Green Woods, brought to town three bears. 
They caught them all in one pen on, last Friday night. 
The bears were in good order. Last year bears caught in 
the same country were very poor. But one deer has as 
yet been brought to our market, showing that deer are 
very scarce. Frank G. Harris. 
Lackawaxen, Pa.. Oct. 22.— Editor Forest and Stream: 
Between Barry ville and Beaver Brook and Lackawaxen, 
hunters have captured twelve deer and one small bear this 
last week. More to be heard from. Rabbits are very 
plentiful and partridges good. Also in town of Lacka- 
waxen last week five deer were killed. * The leaves are 
dropping fast and good sport will be had next week. 
F. H. 
A Lucky and Skillful Shot. 
One of our local pistol "cracks" not long since left his 
deBk for a few days' rest at the home of a friend in the 
hills near this city (San Francisco). He of course took his 
.22 Stevens target pistol along, and amused himself by 
climbing the hills in search of blue jays and rabbits. One 
forenoon while on one of his jaunts he heard in a thicket 
near by a tremendous crashing of brush. Remaining 
quiet a moment he presently saw projected from the edge 
of the brush successively the antlers, face, neck and chest 
of a large buck. Coolly leveling his little "toy" pistol he 
fired with careful aim at the point where the windpipe 
enters the chest. The animal dropped in his tracks. After 
being dressed the carcass weighed lOOlbs. The distance 
was found to be thirty-seven paces. The cartridge was a 
,22 long rifle and the ball was recovered from the sub- 
stance of one of the lungs. Roeel. 
Where Do You Aim? 
For the last twenty years I have not shot at a deer's 
body, if I could see its head or neck, under 200yds. I 
miss once in a while, but I seldom cripple one. 
' Lew Wimot. 
Quail Shooting 1 in North Carolina. 
The Southern Railway, "Piedmont Air Line," which controls nearly 
5,000 miles south of Washington and in whose territory quail shooting 
is found most plentiful, inform us that they have advice from all along 
. the line of this great system that game is very plentiful this season. 
They have now in the hands of the printer and will be ready for distri- 
bution November 1, a very interesting book called "Quail Shooting in 
the Carolinas " This book will be gotten up by the Passenger Depart- 
ment and will give a great deal of valuable information to those who 
contemplate visiting the South for quail shooting. This book will 
contain a list of the hotels, prices of board, stable hire for teams, kind 
of game to be found, whether or not lands are posted, and refers by 
permission to large sportsmen along the line. It is hardly necessary 
to call attention to the excellent service this line offers from New 
Tork and the East to the hunting grounds of Virginia, Carolinas, 
Georgia and the South. Two fast limited trains leave New York 
daily, 4:30 P.M. and 12:15 A. M. (midnight), carrying, through 
sleeping car service New York to all principal southern cities 
For further information call on or address: R. D. Carpenter, Gen- 
eral Agent; Alex. S. Thweatt, Eastern Passenger Agent, 271 Broadway 
New York, N. Y. W. A. Pearce, Agt., «28 Washington st., Boston, Mass. 
F. B. Bnce, Agt., 3d So. Third st , Philadelphia, Pa. Mr. L. S. Brown, 
General Agent Passenger Dept., WasBington D. C— Adv. 
Prairie Chickens. 
Recent reports received by the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Rail- 
way from stations in the prairie chicken country of Minnesota and 
South Dakota all indicate a prospect of the best hunting for years. 
Chickens are very plentiful and in fine condition. Duck shooting 
prospects are also good. Full information can be had by addressing 
Ticket Agent, Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway 807 Clark street, 
Chicago.— Adv. 
Chickens, Ducks and Geese 
are goiDg to be very plentiful along the line of the Northern Pacific 
this season. Make your arrangements to go and get some of them. 
Send Charles S. Fee, General Passenger Agent, St. Paul Minn., 4 
cents in stamps for "Natural Game Preserves of the Northwest."— Adv. 
"Uncle Iiisha's Shop." 
Twenty -two sketches of homely life in Vermont as it was a genera- 
tion ago. Mr. Robinson has the art of a story teller, and the gift of 
portrait painting; and when now and then he touches upon the ten- 
derer side of this homely lite, he does it with a sure hand. The book 
is racy, but very close to the soil. It is long since we have seen so 
masculine a treatment, and in spite of the extreme Yankeeism of 
speech and phrase, the book impresses one as singularly fresh and 
genuine.— Atlantic Monthly. 
"That reminds me." 
An Episode of Red Rock Lake. 
Helena, Mont., Oct. 10. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
I met Judge DeWitt, of the Supreme Court of this State, 
to-day, who told me an incident in goose hunting which 
I doubt has been paralleled in any country. The Judge 
had just returned from the Montana Hunting Club house 
on Red Rock Lake, in southern Montana, one of the 
finest duck grounds in the State. The lake is an over- 
flowed swamp, full of what the local sportsmen call wild 
celery, and said to be the same plant as the famous food 
of the canvasback ducks in Chesapeake Bay. How ac- 
curate this may be I do not know, but it is the fact that 
this lake and feeding grounds are a great resort for the 
canvasback, and the only place in this State where that 
choice bird is found in any numbers. 
But for the goose incident. My judicial narrator gave 
me the following simple tale: 
"I had pushed my boat into the tules, and had knocked 
down a few canvasbacks, when I was rejoiced with the 
near approach of a band of Canada geese. I had only 
No. 6 shot, and surprised myself by dropping a big hon- 
ker. I pushed the boat out at once and did my own re- 
trieving. In a moment I had lifted the Canadian alien 
by the neck into the boat. Do you think that was a dead 
goose? If it were, I would enjoy seeing some athlete 
hold a live one by the neck. But after a struggle and a 
thumping, for which my former lack of pugilistic experi- 
ence had not prepared me, I subdued him. Finding that 
his only injury was a crease on the top of the head, it 
occurred to me that the best way to get even with his 
tribe was to use him as a decoy. The next question was 
as to an anchor. The shores of the lake were a swamp, 
with not a rock in sight, and the only article of weight in 
the boat was a bottle of water, which it was necessary to 
carry by reason of the undrinkable quality of the lake 
water. My irreverent companions, however, say that 
the contents of the bottle were brewed in Milwaukee. 
But whatever may be the truth in this respect, the bottle 
was soon fastened to the honker's leg and he was planted 
on the water 30yds. from my cache. He floated as beau- 
tifully as a painted ship upon a painted ocean, and honked 
a melody which soon bad the effect of bringing in his 
friends. Honk, honk, honk, came from the swamp in 
musical chorus; and honk, honk, honk, replied my planted 
soloist. I was calmly lining up the incomers with the 
malign intent of getting several heads in a row, when 
through the inspiration of honking friends the wings of 
the Canadian spread, his neck stretched, the body rose, 
legs appeared and the bottle followed the feathers into 
the air. 
"The moment was critical. The new geese were at 
long range and had turned. My branded goose was. 
leaving with the supplies. The swamp water was unfit 
to drink, the club house was five miles away and the day 
was warm. I must stop the commissary goose at all 
hazards. A goose with the only drinkable fluid in sight 
was worth more than the unincumbered immigrants. 
These thoughts probably moved me, for I precipitately 
sent the contents of both barrels after the retreating 
water-carrier. Alas, for a nervous aim at a crucial mo- 
ment. The first barrel missed everything, and the sec- 
ond smashed the bottle into a thousand fragments, and 
with a parting honk of derisive farewell the goose 
mounted like a balloon with the basket cut." * * * 
\m m\d |£u^r ^fulling. 
FISHING THE WOLF. 
(Concluded from Page S6S.~) 
We were up with the sun next morning, and were more 
than delighted with the encouraging advice of our host, 
to go alone— my companion and myself — to the river that 
day. The severe exercise and the heat of the two pre- 
vious days had been a little too much for the writer, so 
that, with a present headache, breakfast was ignored and 
an extra lunch carried. Spring water was the only thing 
ingested except a couple of doses of effervescent phospho- 
caffein compound together with five grains of antifebrin. 
With only this aboard, we again mounted our steeds, and 
accompanied by the boy to bring back the horses at the 
end of the two miles, W. H. Finney and myself started. 
Another drink at the old spring, and over the same trails 
as yesterday, we soon reached the river at yesterday's 
starting point. We decided to spend the day in each 
other's company and catch what fish we could, as an extra 
diversion. We knew that we would catch more than 
enough trout and saw no good in following the.rapacious 
plan of some fishermen who try to catch the very last fish. 
Though posterity had done nothing for us. we thought 
that some other sportsman would come along and have 
some luck after we had gone, if fish enough were left; 
and though none of our fish caught were carelessly 
wasted, they might be if we had too many. 
As soon as we had cooled off a little and our fishing rods 
were ready— rigged as on the day before— and after don- 
ning the thickest woollen underwear, we walked, without 
rubber boots, into the cold spring water. In our empty 
condition, and sick withal, it was a chilly job, and we 
decided to get outside of a pint of milk and a biscuit as 
quickly as possible. After this, fishing along, we soon 
warmed up, and as the fish were more rapidly creeled we 
soon felt well again. The shallow places were rapidly 
passed, and the deeper ones more carefully fished for the 
larger fish, if any there were. Though less comfortable 
in the water, often 3£ft. deep, yet I had pleasant compan- 
ionship and better fishing than on yesterday. 
When the day was half done we heard in the distance 
the voices of happy children apparently at play, and as 
we approached more nearly the unseen ones their rip- 
pling laughter kept time with the noisy brook. Still un- 
seen, we fished along until at last the voices seemed but a 
step away from us beyond a curve in the stream, and we 
were much interested to learn whence they came. The 
river's bend was reached silently, and on a nearby bluff, 
where a clearing had been made, there at the very river's 
edge on the rising ground, a group of merry Indian chil- 
dren were at play. Save for their coppered skins, they 
were the same as white children in their merriment. We 
eyed them only a moment before they discovered us, and 
warned by the one who first saw us, the others for an in- 
stant looked our way and, with hushed voices, they scam- 
pered over the bluff like wild things, out of our sight. 
All was still again save for the trout's splash and the 
breaking of the brook. We regretted that our civilized 
presence had frightened off these children, owners of the 
very stream we fished. We were trespassing, not they, 
and they had left the field to us. I would have enjoyed 
to watch their play for a while had I not underestimated 
their eagle sight. Had I known of their intuitive fear of 
white intruders we would have remained hidden from 
their view and watched their play. We were merely curi- 
ous, they were severely afraid. 
From this point of the river we fished with the best 
luck of all. The water was deeper and reached to our 
middle in its narrowest places, and in such we expected 
to find better fish, especially where overhanging bushes 
offered the darkness that the large trout love. After fish- 
ing along with moderate results I cast into an eddying, 
deep corner and allowed the current to carry the bait 
beneath the bushy shade, and I tV It a savage bite — the 
line, rod and arm thrilled from t>'e stroke,'but the con- 
nection failed, and my hook was almost baitless. My 
companion was at my side, and I told him to cast into 
the same spot, and doing so, his baited hook taking the 
same course as mine had done, was almost immediately 
seized and his rod doubled, the short line whizzing back 
and forth across the narrowed stream in a manner that 
betokened an impaled conqueror, whose actions had never 
before been limited in this wise, as evidenced by his fren- 
zied thrashing from this to the other side, then up and 
down the stream as far as the short Tod and line would 
permit. Around the dipping branches he would whip 
the line in spite of my friend's efforts, and breaking loose 
again would try the same tactics near the other shore. 
At first the fisherman looked fearful of results, but he 
was impatient to basket the fish, but he was encouraged 
to be patient and soon became used to the exciting time. 
As yet we had had but the faintest reflex from his shin- 
ing sides as he churned the water in his efforts to escape, 
and we were both anxious to view his dimensions. Mat- 
ters continued thus for probably twenty minutes, but 
hours seemed to intervene. I had dropped my rod, and 
with landing net in my hand watched the fisherman and 
the fish with undiluted pleasure, adding: "Don't hurry 
him." And he'd reply: "All right" We both had 
learned, ere this that the fish was well hooked, and we 
knew that the tackle was new and strong. After a while 
the antics changed. They became less and less wild. 
The steady pull was there, but the rod tip was not jerked 
to the water's edge as at first, and we began to get better 
and still better glimpses of light flashed from the long 
sides of the now rolling and troubled fish. He was less 
averse to the guidance of his rushes and would permit 
my friend to draw him toward the net, but not yet to it 
without another feebler effort to break loose. He tried 
more and more, and his balance wheel gave out still 
further, so that clear upon his side he'd loll and right 
himself again, and nearer to the surface he would come, 
so that now we could see plainly his many-hued sides and 
admire his beauteous proportions. Gently, very gently, 
and yet eyeing us withal, and resting on his side he was 
gradually dragged across the waiting, submerged not, 
which later on being raised caught one of the most per- 
fect fish on which our eyes had ever feasted. The fight 
was ended and a 14A-in. fish, fat and beautiful, was the 
result, and he scaled Hlbs. In his gluttony he had swal- 
lowed the* hook, thus accounting for his certain capture. 
This fight alone was worth our entire trip, and completely 
routed any remaining disappointment. Our ill-feelings 
had also gone, and in such good water we felt encouraged 
to further effort. 
After catching a few smaller fish my companion had 
another good bite, and, connecting firmly, played another 
good fish, as well as the surroundings would permit, and 
finally landed another tiger that weighed nearly a pound. 
I now began to feel as if my generosity in aiding my 
companion to his first big fish, had been abused by his 
catching the second one also, leaving me to drag in 
merely the smaller ones. The savage sentiment of the 
selfish was being awakened in my being, and to work I 
went to try and outdo him in the next good fish to be 
caught. 
In the near distance I espied a lonesome and large tree 
trunk crossing the stream and just peeping above the 
water's edge. With malice aforethought I planned to 
get the first cast beneath its woody shade for any levia- 
than that probably lurked within its darkened waters. 
My line was a little longer than his and I dropped the 
hook a foot in front of the log and drew it across stream 
in front of the tree trunk, and got a good bite, connected 
and landed quickly a fib. trout. I was not after him, 
though, and hurriedly re-cast to the shore-end of the log 
nearest my stand. The baited hook suddenly disappeared 
from view, as out from the dark waters I saw rush 
toward it a brown streak of life. The electric thrill was 
rapidly conveyed to my heart, for it bfat faster and 
faster, and my nature seemed alive with renewed vigor 
as my rod bent to an almost breaking point, and my new 
silk line and salmon-gut leader were as taut as a piano- 
wire. I was bound to keep the fish out from under the 
tree if the heavens fell, and my rod and tackle were 
smashed to smithereens. A fight was on both in the 
water and out of it, and on my generalship and patience 
depended my fisherman's record — of disgrace and no big- 
fish, or victory and a partial balancing with my compan- 
ion's luck. 
The stream at this point was free from dipping bushes, 
and there was a larger pond hole just above the log. The 
only cover for the rish was his loggy shade, and for this 
he fought. When first hooked heljarely reached beneatb 
the tree before I turned him, and in his determined effort 
he crossed the stream immediately in front of the tree, 
and, failing to get his way, he thrashed back again as 
quickly to his first position. The rod creaked with the 
strain, and I was afraid it would break, as the fish rushed 
up the stream toward me, and I had to elevate the rod. 
He turned, however, and back toward the log he went. 
We had not seen him yet to note his size. My friend now 
looked over, with net in hand, to aid me in the final act. 
Failing to carry his loggy point, the fish suddenly darted 
up stream again, and when within 3ft. of me the strain 
upon my rod was too great and it parted at a ferule, and 
the upper half dropped into the water, and the line was 
loose and still. "That ends it," I jsaid, "and my reputa- 
