Deo. 22, 1894.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
eras 
Straightening up from my half recumbent position in the 
lee of a big stump, I began to stamp my chilled feet and 
thrash my numbed hands together when, whew! bump! 
bump! crash! bump! crash! sounded from my rear. 
Wheeling around, I got a dissolving view of a white flag 
disappearing in the whirling snow. To snatch up my 
rifle and let go a couple of times in the direction from 
whence the "bumps" were coming down wind was all I 
could do. For all I know that deer is going yet. 
I suppose the de^r had been prowling around in the 
slush, and on the approach of the storm had made for 
cover. Coming down wind it was right upon me when I 
stood up. That first snort of surprise and fear sounded 
very close. 
Consoling myself with the reflection that the deer had 
no business to come sneaking up in my rear that way, I 
stumbled back to camp as best I could in the fast-gather- 
ing darkness and blinding snow. Beaching it at least, I 
hurriedly hitched up my old nag and put out for home. 
That was a nice trip. Figure to yourself, as our French 
Mends say, two miles of old logging road leading through 
a clump of fire-killed timber, and blocked every few rods 
by fallen trunks, around which the boys had made a 
crooked path which was barely discernible by daylight. 
Imagine a hard-mouthed brute of a livery horse, unaccus- 
tomed to country roads and anxious to get home to his 
warm stall, which pulled on the bit with all his might in 
his endeavor to strike a 2:40 gait on such a road, which 
was either blind or regardless of such minor obstacles as 
trees, stumps and fallen trunks. 
Think of the wildest, nastiest, coldest night that you 
ever saw, and then think of me out in such a night, on 
such a road, and with such a horse! 
Having nearly wrecked the wagon a dozen times; hav- 
ing used up all my matches in vain attempts to discover 
the track; having felt about for it on my hands and knees, 
scratching my face and tearing my clothes, I finally gave 
it up as a bad job, hitched the old fool of a horse to a tree 
and went back to camp for help. 
Bob, who had come in, kindly took a lantern and 
piloted me out to the main traveled road. Even when 
straightened out for home on a fairly straight and good 
road, that horse would not keep in the track, and wanted 
to take every cross road that he came to. This he finally 
managed to do while passing through a thick piece of 
woods, and the next thing I knew the wagon was 
bouncing over the ties of an old logging railroad. I had 
to get out, unhitch the horse and turn the wagon around, 
hitch up again and feel my way out. Had not the storm 
lulled for a few minutes and the moon peeped out from 
behind the clouds, I must have spent the night there in 
the woods. I finally got home, having been over five 
hours on the way. Had I a deadly enemy, I would try 
to get him off in the woods with that horse on a dark 
night. F. A. Mitchell. 
A DAY IN THE ADIRONDACKS. 
Binghamton, JST. Y. — Every sportsman and true lover 
of nature can recall many scenes and experiences of lake, 
wood and forest, that seem to live as bright spots in the 
memory long after more important events have been for- 
gotten. The remembrance of the first success of every 
lover of outdoor sports is always long to be remembered. 
It was an almost perfect day, a dim haze slightly ob- 
scured objects at a distance, and the warm sun made the 
air in the woods seem almost perfection; it was not the 
hot burning sun of an August day in the city, for there 
was a delicious coolness in the air, which to one tired of 
city work and bustle was very refreshing. 
My guide and myself had left camp about 4 o'clock in 
the afternoon; we followed the shore of the lake to the 
upper end, and ascending the ridge we followed the trail 
on top, and in a few minutes descended to the shore of 
another of those innumerable ponds with which the 
Adirondacks abound. 
The two ponds were about 100yds. apart, and connected 
by a little rivulet, which at this season of the year was 
almost dry. The guide took the larger pond in the canoe, 
while I followed the shore of the smaller one, and after 
reaching a point opposite where a deer had been seen' a 
few days before, I sat down near the water's edge and 
waited. The opposite shore was fringed with low bushes 
which extended out into the pond several rods. 
I had lost a shot the day before from the canoe, because 
my guide thought a .32-40 cartridge was too small for 
deer, and insisted on trying to get near enough to use 
buckshot. However, I had had enough experience with 
the penetration of my little Daly, that' I now determined 
that if a deer showed itself I would find out whether my 
"third barrel" was of any use or not. 
The rays of the setting sun threw a flood of light on 
the opposite shore, while the deep, cool shadows of the 
trees above me made the scene an ideal one; there was 
only one drawback and that was "punkies." The little 
pests seemed to think I was there for their especial 
benefit and it took liberal doses of "fly medicine" to con- 
vince them to the contrary. 
The solitude and stillness of the woods seemed delight- 
ful, when all at once I heard a sound which set my nervs 
tingling, and I had a decided attack of "buck fever," a 
slight rustling of a leaf had come to my ears from the 
further shore; but after trying in vain to catch sight of 
the animal that made the noise I came to the conclusionit 
was of no consequence and that no animal the size of a 
deer could reach the pond through the open woods with- 
out my seeing it. 
Suddenly I had a relapse, and my second attack of 
"buck fever" was worse than the first, for right opposite 
me I could see the top of a doe's back over the bushes, 
calmly wending her way to the water's edge. 
When she reached the open water her head and neck 
only were visible; I raised my gun and aimed for her 
head, but I knew from the way my hand trembled I must 
wait for a body shot or our camp would still be without 
venison. 
After "slashing around" for a few minutes the doe sud- 
denly disappeared, but I could tell from the sound she was 
headed for the woods again; she soon appeared on a little 
knoll a short distance irom the water; knowing this was 
my opportunity I held for the shoulder and fired, the doe 
gave a sudden jump of surprise and stopped, not know- 
ing the direction of the sound; her delay was fatal, for 
quickly breaking my gun and slipping in another shell I 
made the quickest shot of my life, and saw her flag drop 
and she pitched forward out of sight behind the bushes 
at tie water's edge : 
I soon bad the guide's assistance and we carried the 
meat into camp, where I received the congratulations of 
the rest of the party. My first shot had missed her 
entirely, but the second had hit her in the shoulder and 
passed clear through her body, breaking her neck. There 
is no question but that a larger bullet gives a greater 
shock, but if a man can have only one gun and wants 
something for all kinds of game I think that the three- 
barrel is the ideal weapon. 
The beautiful picture of the grand old woods, the deer 
standing in the open space across the pond, with the rays 
of the setting sun shining on her bright red coat, is one 
that will always live in my mind's eye and be recalled 
with unalloyed pleasure. T. G. W. 
MONSTROUS BIRD WITHOUT FEATHERS 
On Christmas eve the annual session of the Birds' 
Debating Society was held in Birch Hollow. It was 
quite a mournful meeting, for there were a good many 
empty twigs. All the fashionable birds, and birds who 
did not like the climate, and birds who pined for good 
society, had winged their way to the sunny South. That 
fine old country gentleman Mr. Woodcock had gone with 
all his family weeks and weeks ago. Mr. Jack Snipe, 
the dizzy young sport, had ceased his drunken revels in 
the neighborhood and left for Florida by the Air Line. 
Mr. Biuejay, a dapper young dandy of a musical turn of 
mind, but who really had the worst voice on record, had 
flitted away in company with Mr. Yellow Hammer and 
Mr. Bobolink. Even such nobodies in the social world 
as the Swallows, the Sparrows, the Eobins, the Martins 
and the Wrens, and people like the Plovers, the Cranes and 
the Herons, who never were happy unless they were 
making a spread at watering places, had joined the 
common exodus. 
So it was not at all surprising that the meeting of the 
society was somewhat slimly attended. However, Mr. 
and Mrs. Birch Paxtridge and Mr. and Mrs. Spruce Par- 
tridge, with all their surviving children, were present, as 
well as Professor Cock Partridge, the patriarch of the 
tribe, who looked so wise and aged that he was unani- 
mously elected to the chair. The chaplain, Dr. Crow, 
asked a blessing in a somewhat doleful tone. Miss Snow- 
bird presided at the organ, accompanied by Mr. Wood- 
pecker on the drum. Quite a rumpus was kicked up by 
two very disreputable characters, Mr. Hen Hawk and Mr. 
Cat Owl, in the rear of the hall, and the absence of the 
policeman, Mr. Kingbird, was greatly felt. 
Order was restored at last and all the birds gave close " 
attention to the address or lecture of the chairman, which 
was regarded as the chief feature of the evening. Prof. 
Cock Partridge was not only a great scientist, but his 
experience in the practical affairs of fife had been so vast 
that his opinion on any subject was received with much 
respect. On this occasion his address was regarded with 
peculiar interest, because it was entitled "A Bird Without 
Feathers." We are indebted to Mr. Moose Bird for the 
following full report, he having, as there was nothing 
else to steal, carried off the manuscript of the Professor: 
"The largest bird known to science," said the Prof essor, 
"strange to say, has no wings and no feathers. He must 
be a bird because he has only two legs to stand upon and 
sometimes less. He is called Man. When he was a full- 
fledged bird, ages and ages ago, he was called by the 
name of Angel, unto which state he expects, it is said, 
some day to return. There are many records of this 
Angel-bird having once existed, with wings of wondrous 
length, bnt as he had not the wherewithal to steer or 
direct his course, it is hard to believe that he was ever 
able to fly. 
"Now, this Man-bird is a very clumsy, stupid bird in- 
deed; yet, as he is very malicious and destructive, I wish 
to tell you of some of his habits that you may take warn- 
ing and beware of him. I think he must be classified as 
a migratory bird, for he has no settled habits and is only 
to be seen in the forest at certain seasons of the year. 
Within those st asons he appears to be inspired with the 
most malignant hatred and animosity toward our family 
and, I believe, toward the Woodcock and Snipe families 
as well, which rage of his would be perfectly harmless 
but for a certain tube of iron he carries with him from 
which he throws a shower of leaden pills with fatal effect. 
He is said to have a love for the beautiful in nature, yet 
he seems to be jealous of all other birds who share that 
feeling. On many and many a sunny day before now I 
have been drumming on a hollow log as happy as a king, 
when I have suddenly caught sight of this monster creep- 
ing toward me with his deadly tube. 
"I could not begin to name to you the members of the 
Partridge family whom he has destroyed with these fly- 
ing pills during my time. One of my earliest recollec- 
tions is the loss of both of my parents and no less than six 
of my brothers and sisters in one short day by the work 
of this cruel bird. Yet he is, as I have said, both clumsy 
and stupid; for even with his tube and pills his deafness 
and blindness and lack of brain would render him harm- 
less and helpless but that he is accompanied by a dog which 
guides him to his prey. 
"The curious scientific question at once arises: Why 
does this monstrous bird fly into such a passion at the 
sight of one of the Partridge family? Is it that he is jeal- 
ous of having lost his power of flight? Is it because he is 
ravenous with hunger? Or is it that he conceives that we 
have done him a mortal injury? I am free to say that no 
question is so abstruse, and none has so puzzled the Par- 
tridge family from the earliest recorded times. It does 
not seem reasonable that the Man-bird should need us for 
food, for he is invariably equipped with a huge bag or 
pocket, in which there is far more food than he and his 
dog combined are able to consume. Moreover, when he 
has wholly emptied his bag, this singular bird continues 
to refresh himself from a long black cylinder, or bottle 
which he never travels without, and which produces on 
him the most peculiar effects. I cannot believe, there- 
fore, that he requires us for food, for he has plenty of 
it with him. Moreover, when he has slain us he does not 
devour us as a hungry animal would, but merely lugs our 
mangled forms away. 
"It follows, I think, that his hatred to us is the result of 
a sense of injury. Now, to say wherein he can with rea- 
son consider himself to have been injured by the Partridge 
family, is not easy. I cannot but think, however, that he 
is enraged because we are so wont to laugh at him and 
his funny ways. Certain it is that our family has ever 
been noted for possessing a keen sense of the ridiculous 
and it cannot be denied that uo subject has moved us to 
uncontrollable laughter like this absurd and homely Man- 
bird. To see. him dashing madly by us when we are not 
a, yard above his head; to see him mistaking a root or a 
knot in a tree for us and hurling hie pills in a rage 
thereat: to hear him crashing and falling through the 
brush and brake m a totally different direction from where 
we are; to hear the words of wrath and fury he employs 
at every petty mishap that befalls him, and, finally, to 
behold him late in the day resting from his labors and 
oiling his inner works with copious draughts from the 
cylinder— these things indeed have afforded, and will 
continue to the end of time to afford, us mirth unspeak- 
able. 
"In general appearance the Man-bird is by no means 
beautiful. Upon his head there is a false covering which 
he removes at will, and beneath this is a thin layer of 
hair, which in one Man-bird will be black, in another 
brown, in another gray and in another entirely gone! 
His eyes also differ in color, and, in many cases, late in 
the afternoon, are well-nigh closed. His jaws are covered 
with coarse bristles, which serve the purpose of protec- 
tion, I suppose, as in the case of the porcupine. Cer- 
tainly, these bristles can be shed at will without ill effects 
to the owner, for I have seen the same Man-bird now with 
quills and now without. 
"The beak of this singular bird is a shapeless knob, use- 
less for the purpose of pecking or of scent. It is often of 
a deep crimson hue, as though illumined with hidden fire. 
The whole body of the bird is concealed in a loose, fibrous 
skin of a brown or yellowish color, which he can shed at 
will. Why the Man-bird prefers to cover himself even in 
the hottest days of summer with this heavy coating has 
never been found out. If the residue of his body is as 
homely as his face, however, I doubt not that the Man- 
bird has the best of reasons for biding himself from the 
public view. 
"A singular fact about the Man-bird is that he seems to 
have no mate, or hen. No female Man-bird has ever been 
seen with him in the forest. I am obliged to mention, 
however, that there once lived an old member of the 
Partridge family who said that he had seen the hen bird 
on one occasion on the edge of a field. He said that she 
had no quills on her jaw, that her tongue was long and 
flexible, that her lower limbs were invisible, that she car- 
ried a kind of canopy over her head to shed the rays of 
the sun, and that the Man-bird, though thrice her size, 
seemed very much afraid of her. He said, also, that she 
took the cylinder of the Man-bird away from him, and 
seized him by the ear and led him home. But all this is 
so absurd a story that I think we may safely conclude 
that this ancestor of ours was dreaming, or joking, or in 
his dotage. 
"A very singular fact, which I had almost forgotten to 
mention, is that the Man-bird in his travels is ever accom- 
panied by a small stove or furnace which he carries in 
his mouth for the purpose of warmth. When he has not 
this furnace in his mouth it is because he desires to oil 
himself with the cylinder, and as soon as the cylinder is 
removed the furnace is again applied. I cannot pretend 
to give you a good reason for this, but it has established 
beyond all doubt the fact that the Man-bird is fire as well 
as water-proof, and hence he i3 classified in science by 
some observers as Homo bibulus, by others as .Homo 
igneus. I thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your 
very kind ami patient hearing." Prowler. 
Fredbrioton, N. B., Dec. 26. 
JUG FISHING FOR CATFISH. 
Our camp was pitched at my favorite spot, the "three 
maples," so named because three giant soft maple trees 
grew in a clump at this particular spot. They had been 
bent over when small, probably by a falling tree or may- 
be by the ice in the spring rise of the river. At any rate 
they bowed down until their tops almost touched the 
ground, and all the limbs grew straight up, forming a 
sylvan arch high enough to pitch a tent under and throw- 
ing a cool shade that was a most inviting lounging place 
on a hot day. 
The savory odor of sundry Bob Whites toasting to a 
beautiful seal brown over the camp-fire pervaded the air, 
and the sleepy-heads were just taking a morning plunge 
in the silent river which glided past in front of camp. 
At last night's council ai ound the camp-fire the pro- 
gramme had been decided on for to-day. This meant 
that Ed and I were to "jug" for "catties" to our hearts' 
content, while the rest of the boys foreclosed a few 
mortgages which they professed to hold on the squirrel 
population over in the Cub Greek woods. 
Ed is about half Siwash and the other half just hunter, 
fisherman and general good fellow, but a better compan- 
ion on a hunt or cruise I have given up looking for. He 
thoroughly understands nature, is silent, quick to see and 
note everything, and understand it, too; never complains 
nor shirks his share, in short a companion to go with if 
you want to enjoy every minute of your time in the 
woods. And I, well I have trained with the noble red 
man so much that I'm able to wear a blanket with the 
best of them, and lose my tracks to a trailer about as 
quick, too, if I don't want him following me. 
This is the pair who loaded twenty-five jugs into the 
light canoe and paddled out on the smooth face of the Big 
Blur that morning, while the trees still covered it with 
long shadows, and the morning mists were drifting 
slowly upward. 
Our jugs had each a 4ft. line, sinker and 6.0 hook at- 
tached, and were tightly corked to keep the water out. 
While I manipulated the paddle Ed baited these hooks 
with a choice lot of minnows and frogs caught the day 
before and kept confined in a floating minnow basket. 
Splash! Overboard they go one after another until the 
whole twenty-five jugs float placidly away down stream 
m "company front," and we drop behind to be within 
reach if one gets to doing a "funny turn." 
Drifting along in this lazy placid fashion is about the 
only living definition of that time honored saying: "It 
takes a lazy man to catch fish," that I know of. 
We drift, drift, drift, until Ed straightens up, adjusts 
his lank proportions to the bends of the canoe and digs 
bis paddle deep in the water with that silent, powerful 
stroke of his which makes a canoe "jump." 
My added strength makes the fight craft fairly fly a 
we head for a jug which is bobbing around like mad, now 
rushing along on top, now diving below the surface 
leaving nothing but a broadening ring to be broken so. oe 
where as the jug pops up again. We have almost reached 
it, and Ed lays forward with outstretched hand ready to 
