400 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. 10, 1894. 
mere freak of coloration. In fact, if either form is a 
freak it would seem to be the gray, while the black would 
be the true form, 
The reason of the displacement of the one form by the 
other will probably not be understood until we have more 
facts in regard to it. It seems to be somewhat dependent 
upon the length of time the locality has been settled, and 
the consequent more persistent hunting of the species. 
Possibly the gray color is a better protection from the 
hunter than the black, and so is taking its place. 
When we were boys my friends and myself used to 
think that we were more likely to find the black squirrels 
in woods that were more swampy than those in which the 
grays were most numerous. If this were true the clear- 
ing off of the woods and the consequent drying up of the 
swamps would account to some extent for the disappear- 
ance of the blacks. 
Many hunters claim that the head of the black is more 
slender and pointed than that of the gray, while the tail 
is not quite so bushy. 
I should be very glad to receive any facts in regard to 
the relative abundance of the two forms, and to the dis- 
placement of the one by the other. F, M. Comstook. 
Natural Science Rooms, Case School of Applied Science, Cleveland, 0. 
Quail Reared with Chickens. 
Knoxville, Tenn., Oct. 20.— While Mr. J. T. Stuart, a 
prosperous farmer living near this place, was mowing his 
grass this summer, the machine cut off the head of a hen 
quail which was sitting on her nest. A broken egg 
showed that the eggs would have hatched in a few days. 
A little daughter of Mr. Stuart's took the eggs and care- 
fully put them under a hen, whose eggs were to hatch in 
a day or two. Fourteen of the quail eggs hatched and 
sixteen of the hen's. For a week or so the young quail 
went under the hen at night, as the chickens did: after 
that they roosted in one corner of the coop by themselves. 
The little girl fed and looked after them, and they 
seemed to have no fear of her, but would come and jump 
in her hand. The moment any one else came about they 
would run and hide. Then - favorite hiding place was 
under the chickens, and sometimes two or three would 
try to get under one chicken, and in their efforts to hide 
would completely upset it. After they could fly fairly 
well they took up their abode in the garden, but would 
always come to the little girl's call of "Chick, chick, 
chick," and if at a distance would fly and alight at her 
feet. When they were quite small an old cock quail 
came for several days and tried to toll them away, but 
they would not go with him. They are now full grown 
and all are living but one, which killed itself against a 
wire gate only a few days ago. Mr. Stuart promised me 
that they should not be molested, and hopes that they 
will nest in his garden next year. S. B. D. 
[Our correspondent will oblige us by reporting on the 
outcome of this domestic quail colony. J 
Grosbeak and Potato Bugs. 
There is a theory among the farmers that the rose- 
breasted grosbeaks became more plenty when the potato 
bug first became abundant, and they may certainly be 
often seen making a meal of these insects. If that theory 
be true, we certainly have the potato bug to thank for 
the increase in numbers of a beautiful and interesting 
songster, although the aforesaid striped visitor to the 
potato vine would probably express anything but grati- 
tude concerning his feathered devourer. J. R. B. 
#wf£ §zg 0un. 
THE BIG BUCK OF WALDEN'S RIDGE. 
Chattanooga, Tenn. — Editor Forest and Stream: I 
belong to the Chickamauga Rifle Club of this city, which 
counts among its members half a dozen fine rifle shots. I 
am also an old hunter although only twenty-nine of years 
of age. I was for six years employed as an civil engineer 
in the wilderness and swamps of Texas, Arkansas, Louis- 
iana and Mississippi and learned the use and love of gun 
and rod, so thoroughly that now I find great trouble in 
getting rid of the inclination to hunt. I read your fine 
paper whenever I can get my hands on it, and. silently 
size up. some of the tales, as I expect the one I am going 
to relate will be sized up by my readers. 
In September and October 1892, myself and seven more 
good companions took a two months' hunt in the head- 
waters of Yellowstone and Gros Ventre rivers, east and 
west of Yellowstone Park, and had great success in elk, 
moose, black tail and mule and antelope and also got one 
bear. However, this has nothing to do with the subject 
except to show that I have had some experience in hunt- 
ing deer, and love the sport. 
Our rifle club, composed of Squire Thomas Cowart, 
William Cooke, George I. Parks, J. H. Hogan, Washing- 
ton Durango, William P. White and Pat. Craig, con- 
cluded to take a deer hunt on Walden's Ridge, which is a 
continuation of the Cumberland Mountains. We started 
on Wednesday morning, Sept. 20, in a wagon with one 
week's supplies for men and horses, and reached our 
destination at 3 P. M., 15 miles from Chattanooga. We 
camped near a spring, got our tents up and made our- 
selves comfortable that day. The next morning by day- 
break we were eating our breakfast and were on the way 
to the nearest deer drive. Squire Cowart, who is an old 
and. experienced hunter, and who owned the pack of 
hounds, was to do the driving. We made the drive in 
the morning, but failed to start anything, and the nearest 
we came to a deer was a cold trail; so we went back to 
camp for dinner. After a good dinner, which made us 
all feel like hunting, we started out again. Our leader 
made another drive, and was on the point of blowing his 
horn to call the men off the stands, as he had failed to 
start a deer, when he heard William P. White's old deer 
gun go off. We all knew that of course it was not a 
deer, as the dogs had not struck a trail,, and with one 
accord we started to see what White had shot at, when 
all of a sudden we heard his gun again. When we 
reached his stand we found he had shot at a big turkey 
gobbler which had come walking along near him. White 
says he knocked the gobbler down, and it fell or fluttered 
over a preoipice, and that he scrambled down the declivity 
to get his gobbler and jumped a fox, and shot at that; any- 
way, he did not get either one. 
However, the noise his big old No. 10 deer gun made 
served us a good turn. Of course the hounds, having fol- 
lowed the driver back to the standers, ran to White as 
soon as he fired at the gobbler, and when White scram- 
bled down the side of the declivity to get his turkey the 
hounds followed him; so that when White jumped the 
fox and shot at and missed it, the hounds took the trail 
and soon ran the fox into a hole. But they had not gone 
200yds. on the fox race when they jumped a very large 
buck. Part of the dogs took after the buck and the bal- 
ance treed the fox in a hole. Mr. Wm. Cooke was the 
only man who had not left his stand; and, strange to say, 
the buck made straight for his stand. Now, Mr. Cooke is 
one of the very best rifle shots in our club, and is now, 
and was then, wearing the gold medal that we shoot for 
at our weekly contests; but he did not have a fair chance 
at the buck, so missed him. The buck stopped within 
150yds. of Mr. Cooke; but unfortunately his entire body 
was hidden from view by a clump of trees, and Mr. Cooke 
had to fire at his head. When the hunter fired, the buck 
turned completely around and took the back track. 
Pat Craig and I were sitting upon our horses on the 
ridge, where we had been on the deer stands, and as we 
heard the hounds coming toward us again and heard the 
report of Mr. Cooke's .44-90 Winchester, we began to 
look about us. We galloped down the ridge half a mile 
or more, keeping ahead of the dogs all the time. Finally, 
as the dogs seemed to be getting nearer and nearer all 
the time, we dismounted and walked along, listening to 
the hounds. I was several hundred yards in advance of 
Pat and finally heard the brush breaking and then saw 
the buck at about 200yds. distance jumping up the side of 
the ridge. I ran to get nearer to him and get in ahead of 
him, but he saw me and I knew it was then or never; so 
I stopped and commenced to pump my repeater at him. 
I got five fairly good shots at an average range of prob- 
ably 200yds., the buck doing all in his power to get away. 
I knew I had hit him, as he ducked his tail at the second 
shot, and after I had fired the last one he ran off several 
hundred yards more, and I saw him stop and lick his 
side. The dogs were then in 200yds. of him; so I knew 
he was badly wounded or he never would have stopped 
with the hounds in sight of him. Well, he was a rousing 
big buck, and I made up my mind that if it was necessary 
I would camp on his trail or get him. My horse was 
quarter of a mile from me and the country was too rough 
to make any progress on horseback, so I took it afoot. I 
ran a while, then walked, then ran again; but with all 
my efforts I finally lost the sound of the dogs and turned 
to go toward camp with a full determination to come 
back at daylight in the morning and try to put the dogs 
on the blood trail and follow it until I found my buck. 
After walking for a half mile or more I fired my rifle 
to locate Pat, as it was growing dusk and I wanted com- 
pany on my way home. In a few moments after I fired 
my gun the four dogs which had stuck to the deer and 
brought him by me, came jumping to me, licked my 
hands and jumped all over me. I knew that was too 
much affection for dogs to bestow upon an entire stranger, 
as I had never hunted with them before, but in a few 
moments I understood them as well as if they had told me 
in plain "Queen's English" what they wanted. All four 
dogs turned in a directly opposite direction from camp 
and started to trot all in a row, or one after the other, 
through the woods. I knew what they wanted. They had 
either killed the deer and wanted to take me to the car- 
cass; or the deer had whipped them off and they wanted 
me to go and kill it. Every now and then the dogs would 
look ba' k to see if I was coming, and trot on perfectly 
contented. 
They carried me a half mile or more to the edge of a 
precipice and down in the gulch they went. I followed 
as best I could, swinging from tree to tree and scrambling 
over rocks and through brush until the bottom of the 
gulch was reached. The dogs kept just ahead of me and 
led the way through the thick laurel and mountain ivy 
until we finally got to the bed of the North Chickamauga 
Creek. This creek runs through a deep gorge or cafion, 
that cuts the mountain in two, and emerges almost at a 
level with the valley to flow into the Tennessee River. 
Wei , when we reached the bed of the creek the first 
thing I saw was the big buck in a hole of water with 
nothing but his head and horns sticking out. As soon as 
he saw the dogs and me he sprang out of the water hole 
and dashed up the bed of the creek. The dogs took up 
the trail and before the buck had gone 300yds. overhauled 
him in another water hole about 12 or 15in. deep. I 
heard the melee and followed as fast as I could get over 
the big boulders in the bed of the creek. I paid no atten- 
tion to the water and split the middie of the water holes, 
which were pretty deep in places. 
Finally I got to the scene of conflict, and I give you my 
word that in all my hunting experience I never saw such 
a grand sight. I stood with my rifle in my hand for sev- 
eral minutes, and was a silent spectator of the "Fight 
Between the Wounded Stag and the Hounds." I have 
seen a score of pictures of this particular style of scene, 
but none to equal this one. The large buck fighting with 
desperation the four determined dogs, his charges and 
counter charges, the yelp of the hounds as the buck would 
strike one of them, the sighing of the wind among the 
tall fir trees, the whoop of the whippoorwill, the constant 
rippling of the mountain stream, and ever and anon the 
snort of the infuriated beast at bay — all helped to make 
a drama far grander to me than the masterpiece of 
Shakespeare played or reproduced by a Booth, a Keene or 
a McCullough. The natural hunting instinct in a man, 
when he possesses it in large measures as I do, will make 
him do things and enjoy things that seem absolutely ab- 
surd to the outside world. 
The dogs had their equal, if not their superior, in this 
contest. The old buck was so big and heavy that they 
could not drag him down, and although they were four 
as good and plucky dogs as I ever saw in my life, I be- 
lieve he would have killed the last one of them if I had 
not interfered. Sometimes all four of them would take 
hold of him at once, and then he would snort, cut at them 
with his forefeet, knock at them with his horns from side 
to side, and then make two or three jumps, wheel and 
come at them full tilt with his head down like a mad bull. 
Then I would see the dogs scatter, and one of them slip 
around and nip the old buck on the hams and heels until 
he would wheel again at this new foe. 
It was getting dark and I began to fear lest the deer 
would make a plunge into the thick mountain ivy and 
get away from me; as I did not know how badly he was 
wounded; so I took very careful aim along the barrel of 
my rifle, as I could not see the sights, and let drive at his 
neck. At the crack of the rifle the deer tumbled over 
into the water and the hounds covered him and I thought 
all was over. But imagine my surprise when the old fel- 
low got up, shook off the dogs and went at it again; he 
nearly killed one of the dogs after he was shot through 
the neck. Then I was determined to take no more 
chances; as he might yet get away from me; so I threw 
in another shell and walked up within 5ft. of his head 
and blew his brains out, as it was too dark to see how to 
shoot even at 20ft. distance. So ended the career of one 
of the finest specimens of the deer race that I ever killed 
or saw killed. 
It was now past 7 o'clock in the evening and I was in 
the bottom of the deepest cafion in the mountains, three 
miles from camp and worn out with the exertion that I 
had gone through. However, a hunter must always take a 
hunter's fare; so I shouldered my rifle after dragging the 
buck to the edge of the water. 
When I got half-way up the side of the gulch I heard 
Pat fire his gun out on top; and I was glad to hear it too; 
for I knew he had my horse with him. Pat, it seems, 
had been attracted to the edge of the precipice by my 
firing down in the gulch which he could plainly hear. 
He knew I was after the buck, but did not know exactly 
where I was; so he stayed on top of the mountain and 
kept firing and whooping until I got him. I was in for 
going to camp and coming back in the morning after the 
game; but Pat said that would never do, as the wild hogs 
and varmints would tear the deer all to pieces, and eat it 
up by daylight. Well, what would we do, go and camp 
in that den, among the varmints and rattlesnakes all 
night? That was not a pleasing thought, with no supper 
except milt or liver fried, with no cover to sleep on or 
put over us, and besides I was wet up to my waist with 
water wading through the holes in the creek, and not a 
dry thread on me from perspiration. Now the only thing 
to do was either to stay in that gulch under those con- 
ditions, by the side of that deer, or get it out that night. 
So we concluded to get it out. 
It was now past eight o'clock and so dark we could not 
see our hands before our faces, not even a friendly star 
to light us. We set about with the aid of matches and 
collected sticks enough to build a fire, then by the blaze 
of the fire we found some pine knots and split them up 
with a big hunting knife and made a good torch apiece. 
Then we found some more pine knots and split up a good 
supply; tied them together into regular flambeaus and 
got ready to descend the precipice. It was a dangerous 
undertaking for both man and beast, as we had to take 
one horse to bring the deer out on. We made a good fire 
at our point of descent, so as to mark the place where we 
left Pat's horse and our rifles and coats and everything 
we could dispense with. We took a more rambling 
course than I had made going down; and after half an 
hour of slipping and sliding and breaking brush and 
climbing around boulders we reached the bottom. The 
horse was a sure-footed fellow and was luckily rough 
shod. We experienced great difficulty in getting him 
through the thick mountain laurel and ivy that bordered 
the creek bed; but had to break our way through. We 
both came near losing all of our clothes in this attempt, 
and received numerous scratches and bruises, as it was 
dark as ink, and one had to hold the light while the 
other did the breaking the way. We were one and one- 
half hours going 300yds., but finally got the horse to the 
carcass of the buck. 
Then came the tug of war. Both of us were worn out 
from over-exertion in the coppice, and to get that big 
buck on the horse's back and tie him so he would not be 
dragged off in our ascent was the most skillful part of the 
whole job. However, we finally got him fastened, and 
started, and after stopping every few feet to unfasten bis 
horns from the matted coppice, and scrambling and work- 
ing and renewing our torchlight for two hours, we got to 
the top of the gulch. We had to take such a roundabout, 
winding route up the bank that we missed our fire and 
the spot where we left our other horse and guns on the 
crest of the gulch. We groped around for half an hour 
or more in the dark trying to find them; as the fire had 
burned out and all was in darkless, and finally, being dis- 
gusted and worn out, we determined to leave them in the 
woods all night and make our way back to camp. 
We struck out in the direction we thought camp was, 
and after traveling for a mile or more, heard the welcome 
sound of a gun. We answered by whooping as loud as 
we could, and walked toward the sound. We finally 
heard another gun fire, and this time it was considerably 
nearer. We answered by whooping again, and this time 
made our voices heard. In a few minutes we were met 
by a party from camp who had lanterns and were out 
looking for us. We made tracks as fast as our legs could 
carry us and arrived there about 12 o'clock at night. All 
of the boys were delighted at seeing the buck brought in, 
and all agreed it was one of the largest ever seen in this 
section of the country. It had a magnificent set of horna, 
which were given to Mr. G. I. Parks, and Mr. William 
Cooke took the hide. The buck weighed a few pounds 
short of 2001bs. with bis entrails out. 
Well, after we had supper we had to tell how and 
where it was all done, as Pat and I were the only ones 
who had followed the buck at all. 
One thing I wish to comment upon was the wonderful 
vitality of the animal. Any one who knows anything 
about the Winchester rifles know what tremendous 
muzzle velocity and striking force their model of 1886 
Express rifles have. I was using a .40-70-330, with the 
bullet 1 part tin to 15 parts lead. Now, I shot that buck 
through and through twice and did not stop him. If it 
had been a bull or a horse it would have dropped dead. I 
suppose the deer being hot and closely pursued by the 
hounds was the cause of it; but I honestly believe a deer 
can carry more lead than any animal we have, excepting 
a bear. We had to shoot an ordinary black bear in the 
Rocky Mountains eight times with express rifles before 
we dropped him. 
Another feature of this experience was the gameness 
and grit of the old buck. I think the buck would have 
killed every dog if they had stuck to him and I had not 
been there. I am satisfied that he had whipped the dogs 
off when they came to me in the woods and led the way 
back to the deer. 
This was about the only excitement we had on the trip. 
I saw a small doe the next day in the woods, but did not 
get a shot at her. We also ran a doe and a fawn through 
Burando's stand the next day after that, but he was not ' 
paying strict attention, and let them through without 
