April 13, 1895. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
287 
house, turned the cattle loose and went up to the settle- 
ment, where we had another ranch. We found the stock- 
men for miles around mostly forted up at the Lewis 
ranch; thera were about forty people, men, women and 
children, and we had very jolly times. But the thoughts 
of that old bear hurt me. We remained forted up tor 
about two weeks, during which time the Indians killed 
about forty ;men on the Cimarron and that vicinity. 
Then the soldiers came out and chased them back 
towards Camp Supply, and we went back to our deserted 
ranches. I went out three times while we were forted 
up to get in outlying settlers with half a dozen of the 
most reckless men I ever saw, and we had some brushes 
with the gentle red men; but at present I am going to tell 
you about a great big bear, and will not make game of 
respectable Cheyenne warriors by introducing them into 
this story. , 
So at last one night Bob and { got back to the ranch, 
cleaned up the house, killed one of someone else's calves. 
1 know now that that was wrong, but I was young then 
and the calf was very fat. The next morning we went 
down into the canyon to kill that bear. Bob had a Sharp's 
.45-70, I had a Winchester .44-40, model of '73. We were 
gay and confident. We went down that deep canyon 
afoot. At last we found tracks. They were large and 
fresh. I can see that place in memory as if I was there. 
It was a small oval valley in a deep canyon, surrounded by 
walls hundreds of feet high, with threo big pines on one 
side of the slope, then some bushes, then a ledge of rock 
that crossed the lower end of the valley, then a drop off of 
about ten feet. We went down cautiously to the ledge, 
looked over, and there was our bear snuffing around with 
her two cubs. She must have weighed 1,000. Oh, she 
was large. Bob shot her once and I shot her three times, 
and then she ran for the ledge to come up and see us. 
There was no place she could climb up easily. I ran for 
the nearest pine, dropped the gun at the foot of the tree, 
and went up like a squirrel. When I got to the first 
limb, about twenty feet from the ground, I stopped and 
straddled it. Bob was up the other nearest tree. The 
bear was at the foot of his tree and very mad; she 
grunted and she squalled, she tore the bark off Bobs 
pine, and then she came over and interviewed me. I 
shot at her ten times with a Colts' .45, and hit her some, 
and that only made her madder. The cubs stayed off 
about forty yards in the grease wood brush and foole 1 
around and whined some. Then I smoked, and Bob said 
I was a coward to run. Then I asked him when he was 
going to get supper. We sat in those trees for eight 
1 hours. The bear stayed with us. 
Then Bob said, I have an idea. I said that I was glad 
of it. He tock a paper out of his pocket, crumbled it up, 
set it afire, and dropped it into the grass at the foot of 
the tree, the leaves and the dry grass caught, and the 
lire and the bears went down the canyon. I slid out of the 
tree and got badly burned and choked getting my gun and 
then Bob and I ran uo the canyon and went to camp. 
That evening we pacted our horses and went to the home 
ranch, twenty miles away. That fire burned up all the 
range for about twenty miles, and old Blank vowed he 
would kill the man that set the range on fire, but we 
were modest and didn't say much about it. That old 
bear may be there yet, but I didn't hunt her any more; 
she was too large and tough. Now I kill ducks, they 
never chase me up trees. But I wish I had killed that 
bear, that's all. ^ TT 
Kanhas. . W. J. D. 
A "Partridge Dog." 
In your issue of March 23 your correspondent "Omar" 
takes me to task for having said in a previous issue that 
I would prefer to still-hunt the partridge and shoot him 
sittiug or running than to shoot him over a dog. He 
tnen gives a very interesting description of his last hunt 
for 1894. Now. the dog he writes about, and the dog I 
mean are entirely ditferent breeds of dogs. 
I have never seen a thoroughly broken setter or pointer 
at work, but I would like nothing better than to accom- 
pany "Omar" on a trip with his dogs, when I assure him 
X would have no idea of shooting a bird sitting, but 
would do my best to take them on the wing, and to per- 
fect myself' in that part is just now the height of my 
ambition in the shooting line. 
The only dog that 1 know of in this section that is a 
partridge dog,°that is so called around here, is owned by 
a saloon keeper, who does not lend him, but puts in a 
good many days each season in hunting the partridge 
with him. , ., , . . 
1 have no doubt that he shot upwards of 200 partridges 
last autumn over his dog, but not a single one of them 
did he shoot' when flying. When you speak of a par- 
tridge dog around here, it is expected that the dog will 
have sufficient scent to locate and follow the scent of the 
partridge, and in -getting close will rush in barking, 
flush the bird, and nine times out of ten, drive it into a 
tree when he will sit down and bark at it. 
The dogs are generally spaniels, although I have seen 
collies tree a partridge, but, they hunt usually by sight. 
If "Omar" will notice my previous letter, he will find 
that the farmer said his dog" would sit down and bark at 
the partridge in the tree, when it was dead easy to shoot 
the bird, whose whole attention was taken up with the 
When I said I would sooner shoot the bird sitting or 
running, after my own efforts locating the bird on the 
still-hunt, I meant it, rather than having; a dog to drive 
the birds to a tree and then shooting them. The above 
mentioned hunter one afternoon shot fourteen partridges 
out of trees over his dog, while I, hunting in another 
section, put up probably a dozen and did not secure a 
single one. A record of seven partridges for twenty-one 
times hunting is more satisfactory to me than would be 
a record of twenty-one partridges for se^en times hunt- 
ing, shooting them out of trees over a dog. _ _ 
Presumably "Omar" never before heard of this kind of a 
dog. and in writing his article had only his own thor- 
oughly broken dog in mind, or he would have acknowl- 
edged that when a man can go alone inio the woods and 
successfully match his cunning against the wily par- 
tridge, he is entitled to him. Let "Omar" try it some 
day°without his dog, and give the readers of Forest and 
Stream the result of his day's work. 
I have long been desirous of owning such a dog as he 
has, but they come high, and in these hard times one 
cannot afford many luxuries. J. Butjce Payne. 
Gunning on Cape Cod. 
I have never seen anything in your valuable paper 
from old Cape Cod. I know there is a good deal of good 
fishing and gunning here and thought somebody away 
from here might like to hear from this locality. 
I would like to tell you what sport I had one time with 
black ducks. I live in Centreville, a village on the south 
side of the Cape, and for the best shooting I drive over to 
Barnstable, on the north side, a distance of about seven 
miles, and a long drive it seems in winter, as we must be 
there before daylight if we would get any birds. 
I had been over there one morning, and was or. my 
way home through the woods, on an old woods' road 
when I thought I heard a duck quack. I stopped my 
horse, and then heard it for sure. I got out of my 
wagon, walked down through the bushes, and came sud- 
denly upon a little pond just as the ducks started up 
from the water. I didn't shoot, but just watched them 
as they flew all around me. There were lots of them, 
about 500, I should judge. Well, they went off, and I 
went down to the pond and sat down in the bushes. Soon 
a flock came back. I shot and killed some of them, and 
then more flew up from around the pond that until now 
I hadn't noticed. I shot and killed ten "dead ones." 
Being well satisfied with my bag I went home. The 
next morning 1 was on hand before daylight, and as 
soon as daylight came so did the black ducks. It^ being 
a very calm morning, after I had shot a few times the 
smoke hung over the pond so heavy that when the ducks 
came in they smelt it, and instead of lighting they flew 
straight through the pond and came over where I was, 
making very good wing shooting. I soon had eighteen 
dead ones, and as that was enough for me, I went home 
to wait until Monday morning, this being Saturday. 
Monday morning I went with two friends, and we had 
just arrived when over the hill came some tnen, saying 
in very kind tones, "Do you want any assistance, gentle- 
men." We said "Yes," and down they came where we 
were. The ducks didn't come in very fast, and I vs as 
surprised, until when talking it over later in the day I 
learned four men were there all day Sunday shooting at 
everything that came in. 
That ended the shooting in that place, as a black- duck 
is very shy, and it takes but a little shooting to drive him 
away. W. P. Hallett, Cape Cod, Mass. 
Still-Hunting Deer. 
And speaking of water brings nie to the subject of 
hounding' deer. I have little respect for the hunter who 
can not get his deer by stealth and good marksmanship. 
The man who cannot glide through the forest from hill 
to hill, stump to stump, and walk logs like a cat, seeing 
deer before they see him, or should a deer break cover, 
bring it down with a repeating rifle before it gets out of 
range, should be content to keep camp. It is bad enough 
to throw buck-shot from a scatter-gun at a deer, but to 
drive them into the water with dogs is heathenish. A 
deer's sense of smell, hearing and sight, together with his 
swiftness of foot, are his natural and only protectors, 
and a hunter should have sufficient self pride to be will- 
ing to put his skill and cunning against that of the deer. 
I have killed deer in Ohio, Michigan and Wisconsin 
and never used a larger gun than the 38 Winchester, and 
never hounded them nor ambushed them at their cros- 
sings. I have shot them standing, running and lying 
down, but always gave them a chance to stay away or 
get away from me. 
For instance, one October, while camped on the North 
Star route, nine miles south of ^Republick, upper Michi- 
gan, while hunting in the heavy timber, I came to the 
foot of a ridge, on top of which there stood a large pine 
stump. When I reached the stump I walked up a spur 
root, bringing my gun to a ready as I stood erect. Thus 
I was prepared for what might be within range, and this is 
what I saw — a ten-point buck lying down forty-five steps 
distant, facing me. What magnificent antlers, and how 
his eyes gleamed in the early morning light. He either 
thought himself undiscovered in that small depression 
behind a bunch of twigs, or was transfixed with fear and 
surprise at the apparition before him, for he never blinked 
while I drew a bead on his right eye and fired. My aim 
was so true that the skin around the eye was not broken. 
The buck had come up the ridge a little to my right, and 
had faced about and laid down so he could see anything 
that might follow his trail. He did not expect an enemy 
to come at him over that large pine stump, and there is 
where I fooled him. But I gave him a chance. 
C W. Cunningham. 
Heads and Tails. 
"Heads I win, and tails you lose" lias been beaten by 
the boys in Sandwich and Bourne, Mass. It is now 
"heads I win, and tails I win," with the boys in these 
towns. Owing to the ravages of muskrats in the cran- 
berry bogs in Sandwich and Bourne, the town officers in 
both towns decided, a couple of years ago, to offer 
bounties for their destruction. Without consulting the 
selectmen of Bourne, Sandwich voted to pay twenty-five 
cents for every muskrat's head, and about the same time 
Bourne voted to pay the same sum for every muskrat's 
tail. It did not take long to set the boys to trapping, 
and they were equally spry about learning that the head 
of a muskrat should be taken to Sandwich and the 
twenty-five cents collected, while his tail should be taken 
to Bourne and another twenty-five cents collected. This 
went on for a year, much to the delight of the boys. But 
the officers of both towns begun to "get on" to the game, 
and at its annual meeting each town voted to change its 
tactics and pay, Sandwich for the tail, as Bourne had 
been doing; and Bourne for the head of every muskrat, 
as Sandwich had been doing, and thus stop the double 
bounty business. Tiiis was exactly the change the boys 
had been hoping for, and at the beginning of last year 
they had only to take their muskrat's heads to Bourne 
and the tails to Sandwich, and get the double bounty on 
each rat the same as before. It is said that it has taken 
the best part of another year for the officers of the two 
towns to find out that they have again been playing into 
the hands of the boys. This year they will doubtless 
consult with their neighboring town fathers, and tne 
boys are likely to be obliged to accept only one bounty on 
each rat. Special. 
Minnesota Wildfowl. 
>■ BreckeneidGtE, Minn., March 28.— Geese and ducks are 
coming in this week in great numbers, but no spring 
shooting goes in Minnesota. F. J. S. 
The Ontario Season. 
Belleville, Ont., April 3.— Spring has been very back 
ward this year. The rivers are generally clear of ice, 
but that on the bay here is as strong as at any time dur- 
ing the winter. 
April was ushered in with a snowstorm, yet some of 
our migratory birds ha^e arrived. The first robin was 
seen on Sunday, March 3^ , and during the snowstorm on 
Monday last the first swallow was seen skimming the 
surface of the river. 
The observance of the game law is improving, although 
cases of its violation are occasionally reported. Mr. 
Smith, our local warden, is alert in the discharge of his 
duties, and the commissioners ba w e recommended him 
for the position of Chief Warden, which has for some 
time been vacant. 
The following paragraph from a Brockville newspaper 
is given for the information of all concerned: "A whole 
car-load of live moose from Mattawa, and bound for New 
York, passed over the C. P. R. on Saturday. Mr. W. H. 
Leavitt, who is familiar with the Mattawa country, and 
is in regular communication with friends there, says 
auite a large number of moose calves have been caught 
this winter, the work being rendered easy by the un- 
usually deep snow." P. S. B. 
An Unfortunate Quail- Stocking Experience. 
The Saratoga Club bought about 300 quail for restock- 
ing purposes. At last account they had about fifteen left 
to set out. This unfortunate waste came from ignorance 
of the quail's habit, conditions, etc., and bad manage- 
ment. Moccasin. 
THE DEVIL'S GULLY. 
A mild morning i few days since, after a winter of 
long and continuous cold, tempted me out for a short 
walk for the sake of a little exercise and a breath of 
fresh air. The snow was still too deep in the woods to 
venture on any of my favorite summer rambles, and I 
had to confine my footsteps to the high roads where it 
had been well beaten down, and accordingly found my 
way up the long hill road which rises gently from the 
village to a higher terrace along which it is almost level 
for three or four miles. As I mounted the slope of the 
hill I found the ground quite bare, and one or two teams 
which I met were dragging slowly along, with one runner 
on the gravel and the other tilted up on the snow bank 
beside the road. 
Reaching the summit of the road, where a depression in 
the range of hills gives a passage to the upper terrace, 
a short turn to my left brings me down to the spot 
which is locally known by the title of this epistle. 
It is singular to note how many spots of various interest 
his satanic majesty seems to have pre-empted in this 
country, and his selection of them must have heen gov- 
erned by a very wide variety of reasons, and the spot in 
question must have been picked out as a refrigerator in 
summer when the infernal regions became too hot to 
bear, for it is always cool in its depths, in the hottest 
midsummer day. 
Here, in some early convulsion of nature, the rocky 
range has been split, leaving a cleft 100 feet deep, and 
not much wider at top, through which pour the waters 
of a once full brook, formed from three, which, rising in 
the second range of hills, unite their waters in a great 
meadow on the upper terrace and plunge down sixty 
feet at a leap into this ravine, through whicn they tumble 
more gently, over ledges and through pools, until they 
emerge in the meadow above the village. The water 
never cut this cleft for itself, for its edges are sharp and 
broken, and there is another outlet to the brook three 
miles above, at the upper end of the long meadow, where 
the ridge falls away and the water plunges down to tl e 
lower meadow, by a series of smaller falls. The great 
meadow has evidently been slowly filled up by the de- 
posits worn off from the hills, until the water found this 
cleft and deserted its old channel, though for many years 
a sliver was kept open by the owners of an old mill, long 
since gone, at the upper end, by which a part of the 
water in spring and early summer was sent that way. 
But I am wandering from my text, and have already 
got miles away, for I took this ramble to see once moie 
the scenes of many pleasant hours in my boyish days, 
for many a fine trout have I sedured from his cool and 
shaded home in the depths of this same gully. 
Right on the brink of the fall, with one corner reach- 
ing sixty feet down on to the ledge, and the others on the 
higher rock above, stood, and still stands, a stone grist 
mill, built in 1833, which, with its five run of stones, 
bolting selves, corn-crackers, etc.. was the pride of the 
country, and at the other end of the dam, some fifty feet 
across, was a fine sawmill. Where the streams from the 
two mills came together was a hole in the rock,not much 
bigger than a washtub, in which, when the gristmill was 
running, and the sawmill was not, I have found maDy a 
nice fish. 
It was no use fishing the "Devil's Gully" when the saw- 
mill was running, for there was too much water to gtt 
through it, and that was too full of sawdust, but when 
the waters got low in the summer months, and the grist-' 
mill was working lazily along with a partial load, it was 
my delight to go around behind the sawmill and slide and 
scramble down to the bottom by the help of the trees 
and bushes, and after getting a good trout from the firtt 
hole, as I usually did, made a jump from stone to stone, 
picking up others here and there, until I came out at the 
lower end, some four or five 'hundred yards away. 
There was no other practicable way of getting out thertl 
for the east side was a perpendicular precipice, and the 
west one, though not so steep, was not easy to climb, if 
encumbered with a rod and basket, or "string^of fish," 
as was more common in those boyish days. There was 
soil enough left in the crevices of the rocks to support a 
strong growth of hemlocks, which entirely shut out the 
sun, and on the west side, where the slopejwas not so 
steep, a few oaks were mixed with them. i 
It was at the lower end, however, that my anticipa- 
tions were usually gratified, for here a huge boulder of 
ivhitej^quartz had been dropped in the mouth of the 
gorge, and served as the base of a decaying^dam, which 
