264 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
April 6, 1895. 
mj description will probably tally witb your experience. 
It is impossible, if'they are not badly wounded, to take 
them in any way but by shooting them the second time. 
Doc was in the bow, and I sculled him toward the bird f ar 
thest away, hoping to get near enough to dispatch him 
by the first shot. Once within range, Doc raised his gun, 
when down went the duck before he could shoot. "Hur- 
ry up," said he, "get up close and watch sharp, so I can 
give it to him when he comes up." We did get up close, 
and we did watch sharp, but the next sight we had of the 
duck was away to our rear, and swimming in a direction 
directly opposite to that he had pursued before going 
down. I turned the canoe on her heel. Doc snatched up 
a paddle and away we went after him again. He was 
making straight down the centre of the river, and as we 
came up, Doc put down the paddle and brought his gun 
to position. "He won't fool me this time," he said. But 
the duck did, for as we drew within range he sank almost 
out of sight, and in the uncertain light this made a very 
small target. Doc was getting desperate and as we 
came quite close, gave him the right, and as he seemed 
in no way disconcerted, cut loose with the left, still the 
bird swam on. Three more shells were required before 
we got that duck in the canoe, and we had almost a sim- 
ilar experience with every cripple that fell to our lot. It 
was my first experience in bluebill shooting, and I should 
like to learn from, others if there is a toughei or more 
"foxy : ' "bird when wounded. 
At 9 o'clock we had a baker's dozen of bluebills to our 
credit, a mallard and a redhead, and paddled for camp, 
feeling pretty well satisfied. We cooked dinner, smoked, 
snoozed, read Forest and Stream, and took solid comfort 
generally, until time to start for the evening shooting, 
the record of which, together with a somewhat unique 
event which transpired that night, I will reserve for an- 
other chapter. Geo. W. Miaes. 
ASIILANDj Wis., 
A NEW JERSEY COON HUNT. 
r The night of Dec. 22 had been selected for a coon hunt, 
to which we all looked with great pleasure. We had pre- 
viously arranged to meet at Leedsville, a small town 
about four miles out of Red Bank, where we were to join 
four of the most experienced coon hunters in that section, 
namely: John and Edward Grant, the latter better known 
as "Brickey;" George Mouser, and last, but not least, the 
old veteran whom all coons dread, Jake Antonides. We 
left Red Bank at 6.80 p. m. all bundled up in a farm wag- 
on, Geo. Frick guiding the horse. There were seven of 
us, mostly novices at coon hunting. We had three com- 
mon lanterns, one bull's eye, one pair of climbing irons, 
such as linemen use, and our Branchport friend, Harry 
Van Brunt, brought with him a revolver of the bull dog 
style, of large calibre. 
Arriving at Leedsville shortly after 7 o'clock, we went 
iuto the hotel where we had arranged to meet the rest of 
the party, but, much to our disgust we learned that 
tfcey had received word we were not coming, and had left 
about ten minutes prior to our arrival. Three of us start- 
ed after them, being rewarded after driving about a mile 
by overtaking them. We found we were on the right 
way to the grounds, One of us drove back to the hotel 
to put up the horse and bring the others of the party, 
who were impatiently awaiting. In a few minutes the 
rest of the boys arrived, and after a "how-de-do" and a 
hand-shake all around, we were off. Going through 
fields, we found ourselves on a hill overlooking a brook, 
which Uncle Jake crossed to see if he could find any fresh 
tracks, we remaining on the other side. Finding some, 
he walked along the edge of 1 he brook, we following on 
the opposite side. Gning about SdOO yards, we stopped to 
listen, and were startled by the cracking and snapping of 
twigs. In an instant we saw it was old Lion. He was 
all excitement and whining. Immediately he opened, 
and oh! such music. Away he went, speaking at every 
bound. "Lion's got a hot track this time 3 1 can tell by 
the way he talks." said John Grant. 
When about out of hearing, the dog changed from a 
yelp to a howl. "He's got him treed," sail John. At 
that we all ran full speed in the direction of the dog. 
Now it happened that some of the party bad no lanterns, 
and between us and the dog there had been a deep ditch 
dug, into which two of the boys fell. Fortunately, their 
injuries amounted to nothing more than skinned knees 
and elbows, and they both were too much excited to mind 
that. 
On coming up w T ith the Jog, we found him at the foot 
of an immense chestnut tree which Walter Noble said he 
knew to be the largest tree in Monmouth county. Our 
next ; task was to get Mr. Coon out of the place in which 
he had taken refuge. We all wanted to climb the tree, 
except Harry Payne and John Mount, the heavy weights 
of the party. By the way, Harry Payne was lame, as he 
was one of the two who fell in the ditch. After many 
unsuccessful attempts to climb this monarch of the forest, 
we were at a loss to know what to do. Brickey des- 
patched Mouser back to Leedsville for a gun and two 
axes. In the meantime we built large fires on the ground 
so as to light the upper part of the tree to see if we could 
locate his coonship, but all in vain. Near by this old 
chestnut there stood three smaller trees, so John Grant 
climbed up one of these and found, upon reaching the 
tor, that a limb from the big tree, or coon tree, as we 
called it, spread to the tree which he was on. Reaching 
out, he siezed the limb and drew himself to the larger 
tree. Up he went like a monkey, and finally spied Mr. 
Coon lying all stretched out on a limb. Finding it im- 
possible to shake him down, John came down to the 
ground again. Mouser had returned by this time, bear- 
ing a gun and two axes. Now that the coon had been 
located, John went up another tree close by, where, by 
t ie aid of the bull's eye, he thought he surely could see 
t'le coon. Tying a string on the gun stock, I put on the 
climbing irons and followed up the tree, drawing the gun 
up after me. When we had readied the top, lo and be- 
hold, Mi-. Coon had moved so that nothing could be seen 
but the tip of his tail hanging over a limb" as lie lay in the 
crotch of the tree. Putting in a load of No. 4's, we fired, 
hoping to dislodge him, but met with poor success, so 
down to the ground we went again, and this time John 
went up another tree, so he could look right into the 
crotch where the coon was lying. On reaching the top, 
he drew the gun and a lantern up. All this time Lion 
never left'the tree, but^kept looking up as if he expected 
to see the coon drop. 
Suddenly John cried out: "I see him! Watch your- 
selves now! Give the dog room!" and slipping a cart- 
ridge in the gun, took aim and fired. Up the tree like a 
shot went the coon, and when he could not climb any 
higher, he jumped and down he carne. Lion was on 
deck to meet hini, and on top when he landed. How the 
fur flew, but the old dog knew his business, and killed Mr. 
Coon in short order. 
He was bagged, and away we started in search of an- 
other. Going about a mile further up the brook, Lion 
opened again. "No coon this time," said Brickey. "That 
track is cold." So much for experience, for he was right. 
The coon had gone in a hole sometime before. 
Looking at our watches and finding it after midnight, 
we started back for the hotel. In crossing a field, I almost 
stepped on a covey of quail, which got up when I plant- 
ed my No. 9 boot within six inches of them. After in- 
viting us to come up again the next Saturday evening, 
our friends left us and went to their respective homes. 
The drive back to Red Bank was very cold, as the air 
had grown "considerably colder than when we started in 
the evening. We arrived at Red Bank about 2.30 a. m., 
where we parted, all promising to be on hand next Satur- 
day if the weather proves favorable. 
Red Bank, N. J. One of the Novices. 
ANOTHER OUTING IN THE SIERRA. 
On the morning of the 21st of September, a camping 
party of three left for a short sojourn in the beautiful 
snow capped mountains of the' Sierra Nevada range. 
The air was crisp and bracing Our route for the first 
twenty miles took us through the bottom lands and grain 
fields, and before old Sol bad raised his head over the dis- 
tant mountains, whither we were journeying, we had 
covered half of this distance. The Indian hop pickers 
were at work in the hop fields, chanting a weird Indian 
song, those nearest us waving salutations as we bowled 
along in our covered wagon. Though bearded men, we 
felt like school boys on a vacation, this exuberance find- 
ing vent in joke or raillery. During the day we were suc- 
cessful enough to bag a number of doves and a young cot- 
ton tail rabbit, which afforded us a supper. 
The second day out we entered and passed through 
Placerville, whose history is inseparable from that of this 
glorious State of the golden west. It was here that the 
hardy, though footsore and weary pioneer, from "way 
back in the States" caught his first glimpse of the 
world's famed El Dorado. The rough-bearded and red- 
shirted miners have one by one disappeared, until ther,e is 
but an insignificant remnant left. In their place came 
the honest granger, tilling the soil of the surrounding hills, 
whose surface here and there has been washed away, ex- 
posing the bed-rock in places, bearing silent evidence of 
the "days of old, in the days of gold, the days of forty- 
nine." Only a few miles distant is the historic spot 
where Marshall made his famous discovery, setting the 
world in a furore of excitement. 
t As we climbed the hills overlooking the little town, we 
caught a glimpse of the great Sacramento -"alley in the 
dim distance. About noon we reached the divide, along 
whose crest runs the road, over which our fathers trod 
on their way to the mines below, forty odd years ago. 
We were now among the pines, whose lofty tops seemed 
to pierce the sky overhead. The balmy air was laden 
with the resinous scent of the boughs through which 
the wind sighed mournfully. Toward the middle of the 
afternoon we drove up to the famous inn, known as 
Sportsman's Hall. Passing this we reached the top of 
the mountain; just over the brow is another famous spot 
—Bullion 'Bend, so called from a stage robbery that oc- 
curred during the exciting times, following the rich strike 
in the Comstock silver mines of Nevada. Over this turn- 
pike long lines of mule teams plied their way, bearing 
supplies across the mountains to the mines. Stages, 
laden with passengers and bullion, took the same route 
until the C. P. R. R. became a reality, when all such 
traffic ceased. Here the knights of the road waylaid and 
robbed the stage of a large sum in gold and silver bullion, 
which still lies concealed v< here buried by them near the 
scene of the robbery. 
From Bullion Bend our route took us through wild and 
picturesque scenery. Winding down and around the moun- 
tain's side, hundreds of feet below us, were the clear and 
silvery waters of the American, moving restlessly over its 
rugged bed. Above us and across the canyon against the 
western sky, tinged With a ruddy glow from the setting 
sun, loomed up great craggy bluffs, that called to mind 
views of rugged, fortresses and castles upon the river 
Rhine. 
As twilight deepened around us, we drew up at Miller's 
and camped for the night. Next morning we drove for 
miles along the banks of the American River, whose rif- 
fles abound with trout, and as the sun was sinking be- 
hind the distant hills we neared our destination, and 
drove d awn the mountain side to the abode of friend W's 
dairy ranch, in the rery heart of the Sierras. Greetings 
over, we set up our tent, gathered some wood, making 
other preparations necessary to our comuovt, then settled 
down to days of solid enjoyment. I arose early the first 
morning. The air was pure and bracing and shouldering 
my three-barrel gun I started forth in quest of a buck. 
Late in the afternoon I returned, empty-handed and tired, 
but confident of ultimate success, as I had marked local- 
ities where deer signs were abundant. My companions 
had been after trout and bad met with liberal success. 
Daylight found me on the deer ground. As 1 trod 
noiselessly along I espied two objects standing motionless 
a few rods distant. I was in doubt whether what 
I was looking at were deer or some of the young stock be- 
longing to my mountain friends: when too late, I realized 
my mistake; a bound and they were gone. I ran to in- 
tercept them, and suddenly I saw one standing in the 
white thorn, less than fifty paces distant. 1 brought my 
gun to my face, but the muzzle was dancing a horn pipe, 
though having killed many deer before. I realized 1 had 
a severe attack of buck ague. Of course, my bullet went 
wide of its mark. Nothing daunted, I wended my way 
across four-cornered peak in the direction of Bald Moun- 
tain. I had the wind in my face and as I neared the place 
I had marked, out ran a deer, bounding up the mountain 
side. At the crack of my rifle, he turned, displaying evi- 
dence of a fatal wound. The sound of the report had not 
died away when full a hundred and twenty paces distant 
another came into view, his head up and antlers thrown 
back, facing me squarely. I realized how difficult the 
shot was to make, but as the glint of the ivory ball showed 
through the hind sight, again my rifle cracked. The 
beautiful creature gave one bound and fell headlong to 
the ground. 'Twas the work of only a few minutes to 
prepare them for my trip back to camp. I carried first 
one then the other, until I reached a place accessible to 
horses, and returning later with the animals, carried the 
deer to camp. 
We retired that night in great good humor, the keen, 
crisp air sharpening our appetites for the feast assured on 
the morrow. I sallied forth again the following after- 
noon after arranging a signal and answer, in case I met 
with success. Two hours later the signal was given and 
answered. I had brought the head with me, laid it in the 
trail and awaited the approach of my companions with 
the horse. When they caught sight of the trophy, which 
was a six-pointer, they gave voice to their delight in pro- 
longed shouts. Congratulations over, I led the way to 
the deer's carcass After repeated efforts and failures, we 
succeeded in landing him on our bronchos back. We had 
no means of ascertaining his weight, but judged him at 
over 200 pounds. We have regretted many times that we 
had no camera with us. For the next two days we busied 
ourselves jerking venison. My success had kindled a 
desire in the heart of Charlie to emulate my example, so 
taking the younger W. as a guide and partner, and with 
a jay feather in the hat of each, to keep off the hoodoo, the 
boys disappeared from the clearing into the woods be- 
yond. After some hours, and just as we were about to 
partake of a mid-afternoon meal, bang! bang! in quick 
succession rang out in the still air clown the canyon. This 
was the help signal. George sprang to his feet, ga^e the 
answer hurriedly, made ready and galloped off. In the 
course of an hour I heard them coming down the mount- 
ain side, shouting and yelling at the top of their voices. 
Presently I caught sight of the trio through the woods, 
two in the lead swinging their hats vigorously, the other 
leading the horse. I strained my eyes to see the cause of 
all this hilarity. Strain as I might, I could only see the 
ropes wound across and over the saddle. On they came, 
and as they entered camp I saw the joke. On the saddle 
was the smallest of chipmonks, tied and retied with the 
rope used to secure my big buck. Our guests appreciated 
the joke and laughed immoderately at my confusion. 
We were to return home the next day but ooe. As I 
started away for a last hunt, my companions wished me 
luck, After a few hours I again gave them the signal 
for help, and was answered by my companions, who were 
fishing a couple of hundred yards distant. Down went 
their rods and baskets, and a race began for my locality. 
A pole was cut, run through the legs; they shouldered 
it and trotted campward. They stuck to their job with 
bulldog tenacity, reaching camp at last and two tired 
men they were. 
On the morning following we said farewell to our friend 
W. turned our faces homeward, where we arrived .after 
t;vo and one-half days' travel. J. E. M. 
A Tennessee Shoot. 
Memphis, Tenn., March 25.— Editor Forest and Stream: 
— The season for shooting game is about over in this 
territory, and I suppose, considering the weather, there 
has been as much real enjoyment in the fields and on 
the lakes around Memphis as e^er was experienced by 
hunters in any country. 
There have been more ducks in our lakes this season 
than for a number of years, and the fields have been 
more bountifully supplied with quail than during any 
season for the last ten years, but the weather was veiy 
dry up to the 1st of December and then very colli and 
disagreeable to the end of the season, and so but few 
birds were killed, and we have a right to expect a larger 
crop of game of this kind next season. 
About February SO, my friend North called to see me, 
and together we made a trip into North Mississippi for 
quail, and I dare say no two men ever had a liner dav's 
sport than we had. We left Memphis at 5 o'clock in the 
evening and traveled seventy miles to Talico, where we 
remained all night. The next morning we turned loose 
two good pointers, Jett and Guy, who were in the finest 
condition and form, and seemed eager for the hunt. 
When about three miles away from this little town, 
the dogs made handsome points in some low sedge grass, 
and we were prevented from getting a double each out of 
this covey, from the fact that my friend fired both barrels, 
when he really intended to fire but one. After this he 
was compelled to fire his choke-barrel first; for if he fired 
the right barrel first both barrels would go off. He did 
not follow this c'ovey, as they took ewer in very thick 
woods; but it was not long before the black dog, Jett, 
made game, and directly Guy coming by, took the s<-ent 
of the birds towards a low fence, and in a few minutes 
I called North's attention. to this dog's most remarkable 
stand. He had crawled up till his fore feet readied the 
top of the fence, and scenting the birds just on the oppo- 
site side of the fence where they had stopped, making 
the point in that position, and in that position he re- 
mained until we called out to retrieve the birds which 
we had killed. We only got two birds from this covey. 
After that we got most woefully lost, having travelled 
out of our course, as we learned from a colored man 
whom we met. How far to Talico? "Se-se-se-seven mi- 
mi-mi-miles." Which way? "Dow-dow tha-that way. " 
By the time we got this information clearly imparted it 
was 12 o'clock, and we hurried back. 
Just here a most singular accident occurred. The 
white pointer, Guy, was running along in the road behind 
us, when we heard a curious noise, looked back and saw 
the dog lying on his side and kicking as if he had a fit. I 
got down and went to him, but in less than three minutps 
he was dead. This was the most singular death 1 had 
ever witnessed in my long hunting career, and I don't 
think I felt more powerfully the uncertainty of life, than 
while standing over the lifeless form of what was a lew 
minutes before a beautiful, active representative of life. 
This dog had shown no signs of distress or sickness, and 
could not have been poisoned. He must have died of 
heart failure. 
This left us only one dog, and after finding our way 
back to the trail it was 1.30 o'clock and only six birds in 
onr bag, but the dog left to us was a good one and sue- 
