Jan. 19, 1895. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
43 
for excitement, as thrilling indeed as one could wish. 
A 7 foot shark is supposed to be as strong as three men. 
He can swim at twelve miles an hour, and can tow a 
heavy boat with the greatest ease. 
The inevitable revolver, which I had taken to Florida 
on the advice of a friend who had been there, and 
which I found to be useful in more ways than one, was 
in my belt, and knowing that it would be absolutely 
impossible to gaff and kill a monster of this kind by 
the ordinary method, I got Hart to remove the "gun" 
and see that it was all ready for action if necessary. I 
was, however, slightly too previous. It did not occur 
to me that the killing of our friend would occupy the 
time it did. 
' ' You must get him as soon as you can, sir, ' ' remarked 
the guide, ' ' otherwise he will bite through your leather 
trace, and be off. " So I resolved to try and fight Mas- 
ter Shark by strength alone. Pulling directly against 
him, however, I could do nothing ; but when I worked 
my rod sideways with my whole weight, and the im- 
petus caused by Hart rowing in a direction contrary to 
the fish, I found that I was able to turn him, and this, 
I think, is the secret of tiring a giant of this type. 
Again and again I repeated the maneuver, and pres- 
ently I began to gain on my fish. All this time, how- 
ever, we had been traveling rapidly up stream. 
Resolving to get to close quarters and shoot the brute if 
possible, I told the guide to row his hardest in pursuit;. 
As he rowed I wound. We got within four or five 
yards of the monster, and I saw his great, pale brown 
hideous body, sis or eight inches under water. Clasping 
my rod firmly in my left hand I took my revolver, 
attempted to lift the shark's head slightly, and fired 
That was an exciting moment, for the fish might 
upset the boat. It is all very well for Floridians to tell 
one that a shark does not damage a "human" once in 
ten years iu those parts. I do not believe the statement, 
and even if I did, a shark is such a loathsome and ter- 
rifying brute in appearance that I would certainly not 
care to be in the water with one in close proximity. 
The bullet struck him at the back of the head and the 
result was scarcely what I hoped. He lashed the water 
furiously for a second, and was off down stream at a 
tremendous speed. By this time the perspiration was 
rolling from me, and I was getting tired. There was 
nothing to be done, however, but to follow him. He 
ran for a hundred yards. 
I tried to check him several times meanwhile, and 
made him tow the boat a considerable distance, but I 
began to fear that either rod or line would give. Hav- 
ing placed himself at a safe distance from the boat, he 
commenced a series of jerking motions of the head that 
sent a nervous chill up the line and made me think that 
he was fairly certain to get away, and that I might as 
well end matters by cutting him loose. 
' ' Nothing venture nothing have, ' ' and after a rest for 
a moment we were after him again. 
He varied procedings this time by getting on the 
other side of a sand bank. 
I could feel the line rubbing against the sand, and 
hoped there were no oyster shells in those parts. In a 
moment or two we were upon him. He bolted round 
the far side of the sand bank, towing us with him, and 
then out again into the middle of the pool. I tried my 
old tactics of dragging his head round sideways. He 
could not stand this. 
- Whether it pained him or tired him I am unable to 
tell, sufficient to say that we got him within six or 
seven yards of the boat, and were getting the revolver 
ready, when there was a repetition of the previous 
miniature maelstrom on the water, and down he went. 
But for the dexterity of my guide he would have 
upset the boat, for he went directly underneath it. 
Lowering the point of the rod I let him tow us. He 
was evidently tired, and perhaps the wound was telling 
upon him. 
I could feel that he was struggling along against the 
stream with that heavy weight behind him, and I had 
that peculiar intuitive feeling that I had my fish. I 
gave his head a tremendous side turn, wound rapidly, 
and we were up to him. 
Hart put the revolver in my hand. Bang ! bang ! 
bang ! The water was red all round us, and with a 
horribly suggestive sound Hart drove the big gaff well 
into him. I shot him in the right place near the top of 
the nose, where the shark's brain is to be found. He 
' was as dead as a door nail, and a particularly unpleasant 
sight into the bargain. 
What was to be done with the brute? "A portion of 
the backbone would make a nice walking cane," 
remarked Hart. We towed him ashore, dragged him 
high and diy on land — but I will draw a veil over the 
next half hour, suffice to say that „at the end of that 
time I had a trophy consisting of a long strip of shark 
skin, which is now being made into a cigarette case, 
and all the elements of an excellent walking stick. 
We had scarcely settled down to fishing again when I 
had another run. What it was I shall never know. We 
came to the conclusion that it was a Jew fish. Jew fish 
attain a tremendous weight, and they have a more 
hideous looking head than one has ever seen in a night- 
mare. The bait was gone, a new one was necessary. 
Almost immediately there came a run about which 
there was no mistake. One shark a day is quite enough 
for a strong man, and I am by no means a Samson. I 
did not wish for another battle, but the quarrel was 
forced upon me. Not having started with serious 
thoughts of tarpon fishing that day we had brought with 
us only two hooks. If I had cut loose this shark our 
sport would have ended for the day. 
Having gained experience by this time, I should no 
doubt be able to kill him quickly and save my hook. 
The newcomer behaved in a different manner. He 
began by sulking. More than once we had him directly 
under the boat. As soon as our shadow passed over him 
he was off, first up stream and then down, and then 
from side to side, until the roar of the breakers told me 
we were not far from the mouth of the river. How 
many times I wound in on that gentleman and tried to 
shoot him I cannot remember, but over and over again 
I had him almost in sight and then he either saw or 
heard us and was off. The tide had turned, and he 
towed us down to the Pass, as the mouth of the liver is 
called. 
We had no intention of being towed out to sea, as 
have many other fishermen in those parts, and we 
resolved that as soon as we were able to do so we would 
land on a little sand bank at the mouth of the river and 
play him from the shore. There was some brisk fight- 
ing, however, before we got there, and I fancy I tired 
him more than he would have cared to confess. Once 
on shore we managed to get him into shallow water, 
shot him and hauled him up. Attached to him were a 
number of those little flatheaded fish which are said to 
follow the sharks in all parts of the world, and are 
known as pilot fish. It was most pathetic to see the 
way they attached themselves to their master as we 
drew him up. He was small, between five and six feet 
long, but very game. Some genial sportsmen from 
Toledo, Ohio, who were trolling at the mouth of the 
Pass helped us to cut him open, and I remember that 
his heart beat for some minutes after we had removed 
it from the body. Can there be anything more cold 
and greedy than the pale and stony green eye of a 
shark? This unpleasant fish has the smallest heart and 
eyes and the largest stomach of anything of its size that 
walks or swims. 
UNCLE BUSTY AND OLD SILE.— II. 
A Backwoods Correspondence. 
Hawley's Meadows. — The folks have gone to meetin' 
and me and Jack are left to hum to see that the cows 
don't git into the mowin' lot. Can't ye imagine we're 
a settin' on the fence over thar? 
See that brindle cow over yonder, rubbin' up agin that 
oak tree ? Wall, sir, she sarved me the curiost trick once 
ye ever heerd of. It was two year ago last August ; I 
was settin' out in the summer kitchin shellin' peas, 
and Jerushy was out in the woodshed pickin' up 
kindlins. All of a suddent she yelled, "Rusty! Rusty!" 
I said, "What is it?" kinder perlite and calm, for I 
wasfeelin' in good spirits that day, for I'd just finished 
hayin'. "Well," she sung out, "old Brindle 's up in 
the orchid gorgin' them cider apples that's piled up under 
the pippin tree." Course I went up quick as I could 
and druv her out and put up the bars. Said I to myself, 
that cow '11 be dead fore mornn'. She hed et about a 
bushel of apples. Next mornin' I milked her and kep 
her milk separate. Jerushy churned it to see if it was 
any good, and bimeby it come, and she says, ' 1 Look 
here. Rusty," says she, "what funny lookin' butter. " 
I looked into the churn and there was about four pound 
of the nicest apple butter a feller ever see. Cider apples 
at that, too. Maybe you don't put much confidence in 
that there story — but it's gospel truth, and we 'gzibited 
the butter at the fair down to Cherry Park and got fust 
premium 
Your letter come all right. I tell ye I was glad to git 
it. Does a feller good to git out and stroll - round and 
see how things is getin' on. See the old bee tree where 
ye took out the honey last fall, and go down the old 
stone bridge over the brook and lie down on your belly 
and watch that big trout you uster watch, every now 
and then flap his fins to keep in the same place ; walk 
up to the pasture with the black birch standin' in the 
corner, and see the skeleton of Mr. Fox ye killed last 
winter ahead of the old dog ; and while ye set there 
thinkin' a couple of jays come and set in the cedars and 
pick them purple berries and scream at ye. Then go 
down to the flats along the river, go thro' the alders 
aways till ye come to a little open medder about an 
acre, all overgrown with wild rice and rushes and med- 
der-rue, and ye '11 see the old mushrat house tore down 
jest as ye left it last spring when ye was trappin'. 
Go up on the hillside in the orchard that runs right 
up the hill till it comes to the woods ; set on the fence 
and whittle — set thar awhile and mebbe ye'll see that 
old gray squirrel come out and bark at ye, and a little 
further on ye'll see a yeller and black bird come flittin' 
along and light on a candy thistle and scatter them down 
all round — don't move or ye'll scare him. Let the little 
feller git the seed he's arter. Hear that? That's a 
partridge, drummin' up in the timber. Yes, sir; he's 
about half a mile away and ye kin hear him so plain 
jes like he was rite back of ye; that's cause the woods 
is so still. Ain't the hill hazy and far off? Pretty, 
ben't they? Gol, ain't that a sweet note back in the 
woods! That's a hermit thrash ; ye'll go in thar and 
find ye can't see him, but he's in thar among them 
catbriars. 
Thar, sir, Jack's got a woodchuck in the stone wall — 
hear him whistle and make that throbbin' sound and 
snap his jaw and chatter? Ye can git him out jest one 
way if the wall is too big to pull down, and that is to 
take a stick with a short fork on the end and push it in 
till ye comes up against Mr. Chuck ; then twist it round 
and pull back — he's got to come then. 
See that brindle cow gorgin' them cider apples. 
She'll be sick in the mornin' — but I won't prevent her. 
She b 'longs to Stevey Pitkin, and me and him don't 
cotton on to one another not this summer — not sence we 
had that leetle dispute about what becomes of my traps 
what I had sot on his land last spring. Gol, how I 
wisht I could set here iorever and watch things goin' 
on so pleasant like, but, let's see; I presume likely it's 
about 4 o'clock, and thars six cows to milk — come Jack 
— you'd most likely howl and claw about that stonewall 
the rest of the day if I'd let ye. Come, Jack, stop yer 
noise and let's go and fetch the critters. Yours, 
Rusty. 
Through Parlor Car Express to Atlantic City via 
Pennsylvania Railroad. 
The New York and Atlantic City Through Express via tbe Penn 
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train will be composed of Pullman buffet parlor cars of the latest 
design and the standard passenger coaches of the Pennsylvania 
Railroad, and will afford a most comfortable means of reaching the 
popular -City by the Bea." The train will leave New York, stations 
loot ot Cortlandt and Desbrosses streets, at 1.50 P. M. week-days, 
and arrive at Atlantic City, without change, at 6.30 P. M. Returning, 
It will leave Atlantic Olty 9.00 A. M. week-days and arrive In New 
York 1 2,43 P. M. Stops will be made in each direction at Newark, 
Elizabeth and Trenton. 
This arrangement will afford excellent connections to and from 
tfew England, Eastern, Central and Western New York State,— a'lv, 
QUAIL AND INSECT FOOD. 
Cincinnati, Jan. 4— The quail shooting in Ohio 
during the past seasoan was poorer than I ever saw it 
before. In the early part of summer they were plenty, 
and their clear notes could be heard almost anywhere 
outside of the cities. But as fall approached they be- 
came fewer and fewer, until when the open season came 
there was scarcely a covey to be found. I do not mean 
throughout the whole State, for there were some good 
bags made in some localities if I was rightly informed ; 
but generally speaking they were scarce. Since the 
first of June last I have been in the country, fishing and 
shooting, but my principal pastime was collecting- 
insects, the study of which I am passionately fond of, 
and this, as everyone who follows it knows, places one 
entirely in communion with nature, and after a few 
summers of such work an object is exceedingly small 
that will pass one's eyes unseen. It teaches one to 
sight quickly and to catch the faintest sound. Many 
times while down on my knees picking over some 
bits of moss and rotten wood in search of some particu- 
lar specimen, I would hear some little sound come from 
the leaves around me, and placing my ear close to the 
ground have listened to the sweetest chorus of insect 
voices that one could imagine. 
With myself, and probably others, it is a problem 
what had caused the scarcity of our quail, but I have 
solved it to my own satisfacton and I hope to the satis- 
faction of others. 
"While on some of my rambles along the banks of 
Talawanda Creek, near" the classic little village of 
Oxford, I came on to a quail's nest containing twelve 
eggs. Two days later when I visited the place they were 
gone. I called and soon had an answer from the mother 
bird. I dropped down and called again and listened. 
She answered again and came toward me through the 
grass and weeds, and I had a chance to view her with 
all her children but one. I, was at a loss to account for 
it absence. The mother stood and watched me, while 
her children hugged the ground pretty closely, and if 
one would move she would give a chuckle and down 
would go its head as though it were shot. 
The next day I found another covey of nine young 
birds. These were about one week old, and a day or 
two later I found still another covey of eight. Now 
these three coveys I watched day after day, but every 
time I found them one or two were missing. I went 
away on a collecting trip, and when I returned in Sep- 
tember I looked for my pets, but, alas! I could not find 
one. So I borrowed an old pointer and tried again. 
After working hard for an hour or so, the dog made a 
stand while I tried to locate them over her head, but she 
sprung forward and caught one in her mouth while the 
mother bird and the surviving offspring, which was not 
much larger than a sparrow, arose and took to the 
thicket. The dog nearly killed the one it caught, so I 
had to finish the work to put it out of misery. This 
dead bird I dissected, and am now fully convinced as to 
what caused their deaths, and probably caused the 
scarcity of quail throughout the country. 
Young quail live principally on iusect diet and other 
soft food, the insects that the quail feed on require rich 
and rank vegetation, and the rich and rank vegetation 
requires rain. During all the summers I have collected, 
I have never found insect life so wanting as this sum- 
mer. No rain, no rank vegetation, no insects, no quail. 
Is the problem solved? F. B. Magilii. 
THE PUEBLO BEAVER COLONY. 
Lake Molechunkamunk, Maine. — Some of your readers 
may remember an article of mine which appeared in 
Forest and Stream number of March 23, 1893, regarding 
the unusual action of a colony of beaver, which came 
into the city of Pueblo and established itself well within 
the city limits in a marshy tract of land adjoining the 
union station of three railroads back of the Grand Hotel. 
I was in Pueblo last month and interested myself in 
the subject, visiting the tract, and found the conclusive 
indications that the colony was still there, and evidently 
in a prosperous condition. The runs among the dead 
reeds and grass of the marsh were clearly evident, as 
well as on the firmer land of the shores, and their habi- 
tations beneath the banks were clearly indicated. 
The situation had improved for the beaver by the 
unusually high freshets of last May and June, which 
threw up a substantial embankment at the south end of 
the marsh, saving the beaver the necessity of doing this 
work. The marsh is fed by a number of large springs, 
which creates an abundant supply of water, the surplus 
of which flows out beneath the railroad track to the 
Fountain stream below. In the marsh are many succu- 
lent tule, and grass roots which supply food, and about 
the spot are a number of Cottonwood trees. The latter 
did not seem to have been disturbed since my last visit 
in March, 1893, when a number had been 'neatly cut 
down by the beaver, one of which I observed to have 
been twelve inches in diameter. The limbs had been 
entirely cut away from the parent trees, and conveyed 
into the marsh, and laid the foundation of the larger 
embankment now existing, which caught the debris of 
the last summer's freshets. 
The body of permanent water now retained is in- 
creased over any previous holding, and results from the 
ingenious construction of the beaver upon taking pos- 
session of the marsh in January or February of 1893. I 
will confess that I was much surprised and delighted 
to find the colony still in possession, despite the prox- 
imity of so large a population as that of Pueblo, which 
cannot be less than 35,000, and which must certainly 
contain its proportion of adventurous boys. But the 
beaver colony has evidently failed to attract any special 
attention, and it is doubtful if more than a very few 
residents of the city know of its existence. 
It is a very remarkable feature, that of the colony, 
that it should have become located where it is, and that 
it should have continued its existence in the midst of 
its most implacable foes. Within a very short '.distance 
is the railroad station of three large continental rail- 
ways, the Denver and Rio Grande, the Union Pacific 
and the Missouri Pacific. From this station, erected. 
