May 18, 1895.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 

age and disabilities, the eight ''veterans" did noble work, 
performing every duty at box and bar with equal alacrity 
of the younger members. But they could not perform 
miracles or by any mystic art restore confidence to the 
minds of the migrants, as each gunner present is entitled 
to a full share of all the birds killed, the problem of equal 
division of the only one brought to bag became rather 
serious, but was finally amicably settled by "arbitration." 
On April 24, the last party of the season, consisting of 
eight old stayers and raw recruits, put in an appearance. 
The prospect was most gloomy and discouraging. What 
few birds were left, kept aloof and would not approach 
the boxes. Every day as long as there was any show for 
birds the boxes were faithfully manned and every arti- 
fice known to the club was resorted to without effect, Up 
to the morning of the departure, not a bird had fallen be- 
fore any gun, but on that morning "Lou" brought in 
one brant, which on examination was pronounced a 
"wing shock" or wounded bird, that was unable to con- 
tinue the journey, and worthless. So ends the most dis- 
astrous season known to branting. . 
The reader, if he be interested in sporting matters, may 
like to know why it is that a club that has for more than 
thirty years been in existence with an average score of 
about 350 birds yearly, is now so abruptly reduced to 
twenty-nine? We will endeavor briefly to explain. To 
our mind, the failure is to be assigned mostly to two 
causes. First, failure of food, and second, to over-shoot- 
ing. The great gales and high water that some years 
ago swept the sand dunes of Nanuet far from their 
foundation, depositing the material in the channel, there- 
by ruining the harbor and commerce of Chatham, also 
destroyed the best part of the feeding ground, especially 
the channel and other attractive sections near the town. 
We have observed for several years a growing disposition 
in the birds to keep more and more off shore. The reasons 
are quite obvious. They find better feed and exemption 
from danger, two important factors in a bird's existence. 
As these birds live toagreat age, it-may be presumed that 
every spring as in their northern migration they reach 
Chatham Bay, where for so many years they have fared 
sumptuously, they must stop to rest and partake of the 
delicious food — Zostera marina — so bounteously supplied. 
Seemingly all the brant that went north at that period 
stopped here. We have often imagined what must be the 
surprise of the serried ranks of the veterans of many a 
long journey, as they wheel majestically around Morris's 
Island, confidently expecting the luscious feast, when, lo! 
only a sand flat is before them! Memory is in birds 
strong and it takes years to obliterate these impressions. 
Let him who doubts consider that the same bird that built 
a nest and reared its young on a particular tree by his win- 
dow last year, will after an absence of many months, with- 
out a compass to guide it, or even a blazed tree to mark its 
way, return again, year after year, to perform the same 
paternal office. About half-way down from Chatham to 
Monomoy Point, on the westerly side, is a projection 
called the "inner point," and from this point a natural 
bar makes across to the "Common Fiats." Fifteen years 
ago very few brant tarried there, as the water is deeper 
and more turbulent, but pushed on nearer the town, 
where there was plenty of feed and shoal water. For 
several years the tendency to abide south of the bar and 
inner point has been more pronounced, and more espe- 
cially has this been the case during the present season. 
The second cause of failure this year, namely, "over- 
shooting," is so marked as to be apparent to any observer. 
Some forty years ago, when we were first introduced to 
tbis shooting ground, there were but three boxes on the 
whole distance up and down the flats. Now there are 
twelve or thirteen. Then a simple sandbar, upon which 
stood three live brant decoys, and a box buried in the 
bar, completed the outfit. These primitive contrivances 
worked marvellously well. The birds would light in the 
water hard by and swim up to the bar and mingle with 
the decoys. It is singular how soon word is telegraphed 
from this bar to all the birds in the bay that all is well 
and it is safe for them to assemble there for a social chat 
or to make plans for the long journey to the north, and 
they spring up from various parts and straightway pro- 
ceed to the bar. We have seen hundreds, nay, apparently 
thousands, pile on to and around the box, nearly all of 
them within range. It is a critical moment, The neo- 
phites become nervous, and the guide has hard work to 
keep them down out of sight. Each of the decoys has 
fetters on his legs, to which a line in the hand of a guide 
is attached. A gentle pull on the line reminds them that 
a shot is to be made and they must move to one or the 
other side of the bar. They seem to understand the situ- 
ation and quietly obey. The first discharge is usually 
quite destructive, and the second, on the wing, less so. 
Often the slaughter was terrible, twenty, thirty, and even 
as high as forty-four at a shot. They did not seem so 
badly frightened when fired at in a sitting posture as on 
the wing, and the same flock would appear two or three 
times during a single tide upon the bars. 
About fifteen years since, an innovation on this system 
was made by the introduction of wood decoys. Before 
this period the birds were rarely, if ever, shot on the 
wing. Since that inauspicious event most of them are 
shot on the wing. We do not mean to say that the birds 
never light with the woods. Young, inexperienced birds 
may approach near enough to draw fire, but as a rule, 
they soon discover the fraud, and skip away. It is with 
difficulty that mature birds are brought within range, 
although a pair of live birds are worked in conjunction 
with the woods. Later came the labor-saving system of 
canvas covers, as before remarked. This plan is rather 
against nature. With a goodly number of inanimate imi- 
tations, the shy, cunning creatures may sometimes be 
coaxed within fair range; but not probably a second 
time. 
Our seasons are about six weeks long, or from March 20 
to May 1. During this time the canvas becomes bleached 
quite white and conspicuous, and if the wild birds ever 
come on to it we have failed to see it; in fact, our observa- 
tion leads to the conclusion that they are suspicious of that 
white cap surrovmded by queer-looking, stiff-necked imi- 
tations, and keep shy of them, especially after one or two 
seasons' experience. Nor will they in any considerable 
numbers come on to the flats or near the boxes, but keep 
off in the bay or south side of the bar and inner point. 
We have enumerated a dozen boxes planted up and down 
the flats and beaches contiguous to the feeding grounds. 
From every one of these boxes more or less guns are fired, 
and every shot seems to weaken the confidence of the 
birds in the security, the safety of the situation. 
The relative number of birds passing directly over and 
not stopping at all is greater this year than ever before. 
It is but the natural outcome of too much shooting. The 
law of self-preservation is strong in birds as in other 
creatures, and when destroyed in one location they will 
seek another. Very little shooting at birds on their feed- 
ing grounds will soon drive them all away, and shooting 
on wing while on the passage to or from the feeding 
places produces disastrous results. We attribute the 
failure of the present season more to the increase of boxes 
and bars, covered and uncovered, and the constant bang- 
ing at all sorts of birds that come along, than to the food 
failure. And then there are very few young birds this 
season. Out of the twenty-nine birds killed only two 
were young. Last year our club killed 285 brant, 153 
young and 132 adults. 
The flight of all kinds of birds has been this spring re- 
markably small, we should say less than half the usual 
number. We hardly suppose that the swimming birds 
would be caught in the ice and perish, or that any, 
especially brant, who are bred in cold regions and are 
clothed with a double jacket, could hardly suffer by low 
temperature, and they certainly could in a few hours 
reach a warmer climate where food is plenty, and we are 
puzzled about the cause of the greatly diminished num- 
bers. Being on the elbow of Cape Cod, most of the fowl 
and shore birds pass Chatham Bay, but this spring, if 
there are as many birds as usual, they must have taken 
some other road. Sea ducks, coot, geese, brant, shel- 
drake, black ducks, and even gulls have all been very 
scarce. The scarcity of song and insectivorous birds is 
more easily accounted for. With the mercury at 22° and 
14in. of snow covering the winter home of these lovely 
creatures, it is a marvel that any are left to cheer the 
hearts of toilers upon Northern soil and aid the husband- 
man and horticulturist in his efforts to produce most 
valuable crops. The almost unparalleled cold weather at 
the South brought not only ruin to fruit growers and. 
fruit, but also killed millions of small birds. The dead 
were strewn broadcast over the land. In a little village 
in North Carolina where we have often hunted partridges, 
the gale blew down a martin box containing twenty dead, 
or nearly dead, bluebirds, and seven more bodies were 
discovered in a hollow stump. Gunners from that sec- 
tion report heavy losses among the partridges (Bob 
White), and it must take several favorable years to over- 
come these deplorable losses. W. Hapgood, 
Pres. Monomoy Branting Club, 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 
The Story of the Big Bear Foot. 
Chicago, 111., May 8.— A week or so ago I made men- 
tion of a very large bear paw which was sent me by our 
friend Mv. R. E. Bobo, the champion bear hunter °,of Mis- 
sissippi and of the world, so far as I know. Mr. Bobo 
appends the story of the cb ase in which the big bear was 
killed, and from this it would seem that the bear chase had 
after all some revelations for him, even after so many 
years, experience at it. The weight of GOOlbs. is very 
large for the black bear, though Mr. Bobo told me he once 
killed one that weighed 700lbs. after dressing. Forest 
And Stream must show this big foot, dried and shrunken 
as it must then be, in the exhibit at the sportsmen's ex- 
position, and if anybody can tell any bigger true bear 
stories than these which have been coming from Mississippi, 
I reckon he will have to carry off the foot. But it will take 
more than 304 bears in one year to do it, and a black bear 
heavier than most grizzlies are thought to be will be 
necessary to beat the Mississippi record. Only the best of 
anything will get into the Forest and Streak exhibit, or 
get away with it. Mr. Bobo writes as below of his first 
spring hunt. 
Big Bear on the Sunflower. 
"A late hunt on the Sunflower recalls the pleasant times 
we had there last fall, when you were here. Our dogs 
being in full trim and the boys all anxious to go for a 
hunt, we arranged to leave Bobo station and round up at 
the Duncan place, that being as you know on the river at 
the east end of the tram road where we waited for the 
dogs, when you and I were out there. In our party were 
Messrs. J. R. Shield, Felix Payne, Mr. Heiler, Bob the 
Kid (my son) and Tom Sims and Sam Russell, the colored 
boys. We all started April 21, and met successfully at 
the Duncan camp. Everybody told of what sign he had 
seen and what we might look for on the next day. 
"Early the following morning we left for the bit of 
country known as Hell's Hundred Acres. When we got 
near . Mud Lake we heard Georgia Ann, Tom's favorite 
dog, and everybody that knew the dogs said: 'Yes, that's 
all right.' Then the whole pack went into cry, and away 
we all went. The race went far to the north and then 
west and south to the Pecan Bayou, then east to the river 
and back west again. Crack! bang! bang! we could hear 
the guns go along the 1ram road, then still for two hours 
and a quarter a hard race went on, Tom and Sam and Mr. 
Shield and everybody else getting a shot, but no meat. 
At last the dogs caught and killed the bear, an 80ib. cub. 
"We got back as fast as we could to the starting place, 
knowing that the old she bear was not far away, and soon. 
Fly, Mr. Shield's favorite dog, gave mouth and off we 
went again for a run of an hour and a half. We treed at 
last in a big hollow tree, and the boys making a fire we 
soon began throwing chunks at the hole, and after awhile 
Sam put one in the hole and out came a 3001b. bear, and 
was on the ground before you could say what or how. 
Well, you know the big knife I always carry, and this 
came useful, for in a moment I had killed this bear with 
the knife. The boys carved up the meat and we went 
back, on the way discussing who should be called before 
the Kangaroo court fordoing all that shooting and missing 
— the penalty of the court usually consisting of a short- 
ening of the guilty party's shirt tail by about 4in. Our 
court lasted till midnight, and I do not need say that some 
of the boys had very short shirts on by that time. 
"The next morning we set out for some good grounds,, 
and very soon my favorite — the dog we could not find 
when we were here — gave cry, and we knew a bear wa& 
up. We gathered up, and came to the understanding that 
we were to give this bear a chance for his life, and by fair 
means take him without a gun being fired. The chase 
went south a quarter of a mile and took a short turn to 
the north of that tram road where I stationed you so 
often. We heard a gun go bang! bang! and then we 
heard a yell. ; Now, boys,' said I, 'with forty-one dogs 
and no one to shoot the bear, I reckon we'll have some 
fun, and a little touch of high life in Mississippi bear 
hunting.' We all tightened up for a bard run, but we 
got no run. It was all a disappointment. 'What?' said 
I to Payne, as he came up, 'you haven't killed it?' 
" 'Yes,' said Payne, with that honest look we all knew 
so well to carry the truth with it, 'I did break the agree- 
ment. But that bear did look so black and fine that I shot 
and killed it before I thought— I did, honest!' 
" 'Have you got your sack along to put the meat in?' I 
asked. 
" 'Yes,' said he, 'I have. The bear only weighs 1501bs.' 
" ' vVell, keep that sack,' said I, 'for before our Kanga- 
roo Court gets done with you, you are mighty apt to need 
it for a shirt.' 
"Well, we got back to Pecan Bayou— you know where 
that is — and in a moment Ronco gave tongue again. We 
all closed in to see the size of the track, for it was in a sort 
of pond, a wet place. 'Look! look!' cried Shield. 'That 
track is as big as my horse's track.' 
"It was indeed a monstrous track, and we laid plans to 
make no mistake in the run. I knew it might go south 
to the Hushpuckany River and cross and get clear away. 
We rode to the front as best each could, two miles and a 
half to the river. At the bank I rode to the front and the 
bear turned back from the river and made for Hell's Hun- 
dred Acres, with me after him, and I reckon you know 
what that meant for followers. I rode hard a mile north 
ana headed the pack all alone, the boys being far in the 
rear. Riding for the dogs, I came up with them, and at 
length saw a great black object going across a piece of 
burned cane, working hard to get to the cover a quarter 
of a mile away. I set spurs hard and heavy to my good 
horse Dan, and we closed with the bear. Holding my 
rifle like a pistol in my right hand and the reins in my 
left, I 'fired at the bear with the muzzle against its body, 
but the bear kept right on. Some of the dogs were within 
5ft. of him, and there were forty-one dogs strung out be- 
hind him. Fifty yards further I rode in and again placed 
the gun against the bear and fired, and down he came. 
Off I piled on to him, and I tell you a 6001b. bear and forty- 
one fighting dogs is something of a contract. A third 
time I placed the old rifle against the great animal and so 
I ended the hardest and most exciting bear race of my 
whole life, and my experience I think justifies me in say- 
ing this was one of the most pleasant hunts of the age. 
"I blew the call, and Shield and Payne, a quarter of a 
mile away, responded and came in. We had a general 
carving, for this bear was a monster indeed. 
"We had not had a dog scratched, and had killed four 
bears in two days, one of them this huge one. We 
thought this was the most pleasant hunt we had ever 
enjoyed. We all wished several times that you had been 
with us. When we pulled out for camp each man took 
all the meat he wanted and we had some of the finest 
hides we ever got. 
"It is useless to say that when the court convened there 
were some short shirt tails, and Mr. Payne, who broke the 
rule by firing, had very little left of his shirt but the col- 
lar. 
"We are making arrangements to have everything in 
good shape next fall, and you know you have a standing 
Invitation to join us, something which you know too is 
not given to a great many. You have our best wishes. 
"R. E. Bobo." 
There wasn't no Ticket. 
I am in receipt, in the course of trade, of the following 
story from the city of Memphis, which was originally ad- 
dressed to Forest and Stream Pub. Co., probably by Tom 
Divine or some other Memphis friend. The story may be 
thought by some too good to be true, but I am not saying 
a word about that, and all I know is that it is too good (o 
keep. It certainly does look as though the fellow at 
whose expense it is told ought to buy another dinner at 
the hotel Luehrman, and pay for it, too. The story goes 
as follows: 
"Memphis, Tenn., April 27 .—Editor Forest and Stream: 
A series of articles commenced their appearance in Forest 
and Stream about Feb. 9, under the caption of "The 
Sunny South." These articles were very much enjoyed 
by friends of your paper in this country, and I feel that a 
great deal of good was done by the generous handling of 
the Southern question by your correspondent. He made 
a great many personal friends while in the South, and I 
am sure a great many friends for Forest and Stream. 
He has a very happy way of telling of the good things 
that happen to the different friends with whom he is 
thrown — many beautiful stories at the expense of these 
friends. But if you will notice, he never finds a single 
story to tell on himself, and we are naturally led to believe 
that this gentleman is so perfect that he never falls into 
traps or positions of embarrassment. 
"Now, I am satisfied from what I have heard of this 
gentleman that he is courageous, that he is not afraid to 
face any question or position, has been tried and_ found 
equal to tne occasion in all the various trials of life, but 
there are times when this gentleman, does some pretty 
nice dodging; when he forgets some veryrich things that 
happen in his company, at his expense, which would not 
probably appear so beautiful to him in print. If you will 
pardon me, I will relate just one little incident that hap- 
pened at Memphis which I think should be told on him. 
I am told that while he was in Memphis he was very hos- 
pitably and cleverly taken care of by two of his Tennessee 
Club friends; that they were lavish in their efforts to 
make his stay pleasant; told him the club was his while 
he was here, and in various ways showed him that he was 
looked upon as a great man, and that they were proud to 
have the pleasure of entertaining him. 
"On one occasion he was invited to dinner at the Ten- 
nessee Club, when he drew himself up, as the proud sons of 
the West have away of doing, and said, 'Gentlemen, I 
will not eat or drink with you again until you have par- 
taken of some of my hospitality.' No amount of protest- 
ation on the part of these friends would change his mind, 
so they concluded to humor him this once, and started 
with him for his hotel. Just as this little party of three 
entered the cafe of the hotel, they were called oyer to a 
table where two gentlemen, society men of Memphis, were 
•dining, and together they sat down to commence their 
meal. This great dodger was introduced to the two gen- 
tlemen, and in the most perfect and gallant manner urged 
them to be his guests. Nothing was Baid; each ordered 
what he felt disposed to have for dinner, and as each 
course was served it was most fearfully abused by this 
able scribe. He said that in the course of all his expe- 
