830 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 29, 1895. 
the game and fish supply of the State -will become as 
abundant as ever. 
The Association will also stock the fresh, water streams 
with trout and bass, distribute live birds in the different 
counties of the State, to replenish those who perished dur- 
ing the blizzard last winter, and inaugurate a systematic 
plan for feeding the birds in times of deep snows in every 
election precinct in the State. 
An appeal will be made to the proprietors of hotels and 
restaurants and to the stewards of the various clubs in the 
city to refrain from buying game during the time prohib- 
ited by law. Co-operation by them with the Association 
will assist in accomplishing much good. At the same 
time they are admonished that a secret detective service 
has been organized, and that whosoever is found violating 
the game and fish laws will be prosecuted to the fullest 
extent. 
Annual dues: Baltimore city members, $2- county 
members, $1; county club membership, honorary 
members, $5. 
Dr. George W. Massamore, Spcretary-Treasurer, 
334 North Charles Street, Baltimore, Aid. 
A DEER HUNT IN THE EVERGLADES: 
A Story for the Boys. 
Before Ned Cutler left his home in New York, to spend 
the winter with his parents in Palm Beach, Fla., he 
caused it to be known among his friends that he should 
shoot deer and alligators in unknown quantities while 
there. He was almost thirteen, and as boastful as boys 
are wont to be at that age, and pardonably proud of his 
marksmanship. He had pictured to himself how the deer 
would fall before his unerring aim like the wooden im- 
ages in the shooting gallery. 
Arriving at that beautiful spot, Cocoanut Grove, Lake 
Worth, his first inquiries were with reference to the deer 
and alligators, and he was somewhat disconcerted to 
learn that deer did not sleep under the eaves of the hotel 
and that alligators could not be shot from the back door 
of the bath-house; but that the former had to be sought 
five or ten miles in the Everglades, while the latter must 
be hunted at night with much caution and skill. 
Not discouraged, however, he spent the next three 
weeks, wondering and delighted, in acquainting himself 
with that wonderland of fruits and flowers, of wildfowl, 
mosquitoes and sand fleas, and, by no means incidentally, 
in striving to induce some one to take him deer-hunting 
in the Everglades. 
None were easily induced to take a boy on such a dan- 
gerous and exhausting trip; but by much coaxing Lane 
one day promised to take him the next time he went, if 
his parents were willing. There was a sly twinkle in the 
old Floridian's eyes as he made the promise, and there is 
a suspicion that he would not have made it had he not 
felt sure that the conditions could not be met. Indeed, it 
looked for a time as though the old hunter had reckoned 
wisely; for, when Ned's mother heard of the hard march- 
es through scrub and hammock and marsh, of the dan- 
gers from snakes and fever, she refused to grant his 
request. 
His father had dismissed him with "You may go if 
your mother is willing;" so he found, as many an older 
one before and since, that his destiny hung upon the de- 
cision of a woman. Ned had learned in his thirteen years 
of experience that a woman's heart is pliable as well as 
solicitous, and hence bent his energies in obtaining the 
much coveted permission. An able ally he found in 
"Doc" Hart, of the store down on the "p'int," who had 
shot every kind of game in Florida during his twenty-five 
years' residence, as squatter and merchant, at the p'int. 
So "Doc" came around to the hotel one evening and was 
introduced to Ned's mother. During the conversation 
that followed Mr. Hart's opinion was requested in refer- 
ence to the boy's desire, and Mr. Hart thought he could 
safely go, and expressed a hope that his mother would 
permit it. "But the snakes!"— "Oh yes, there are some 
snakes. The cottonmouth moccasin is the most danger- 
ous, since it gives no warning, as does the rattler; but 
then the Seminole Indians go through that whole region 
barefoot and with bare legs and are rarely if ever bitten." 
Mr. Hart might have added that the skin on the feet and 
legs of the Seminole Indian is as tough as the "dasher 
from tough old hide, found in the pit when the tanner 
died, and that his sight is as sharp and quick to pene 
trate the palmetto as the hawk's. Be it to his credit or 
discredit, according as you occupy Ned's or his mother's 
position, he did not, and as a result of that conversation 
Ned found himself a week later going on a deer hunt in 
the Everglades. 
The guns and provisions are all in the skiff, as is Ned 
in the bow, "Doc" Hart in the stern, and "Traps" Lane 
at the oars, pulling the two miles across Like Worth in 
the wonderful quiet of the very early morning. Having 
made the transit, the skiff is tied under the overhanging 
trees, that the hot sun may not start the seams during 
their absence. Each one then takes his pack and gun 
and they start single file over the narrow path leadinf for 
two miles through the pine and oak forest. Ned's load 
weighs about Mbs., while the men carry considerably 
more. But 301bs. is a load for a boy of thirteen after the 
nrst mile. Now they strike a clearing of an acre or more 
covered with growing pineapples. Ned thinks thev look 
like a lot ot small century plants. Then through the 
woods again, and soon they come upon a lake, on whose 
shore they deposit their burdens. Our young hunter sits 
down to rest, while the men skirt the shore, one in one 
direction and the other in the other, diving in everv 
thicket of palmetto scrub like dogs for a covev. Soon 
Lane calls out, "Here she is," and as Ned is wondering 
who she can be, he sees him come around the fringe of 
shore propelling an old punt or flat-bottomed boat "into 
this everything is loaded, and off they glide swiftly and 
almost noiselessly propelled by the long powerful strokes 
of the padale, wielded by Lane standing near the stern 
an erect six feet of athletic humanity. ' 
From one lakelet to another they proceed through tor- 
tuous channels so narrow as to almost prevent their little 
bark from passing. After an hour they come upon a vast 
expanse of w*|er and slime dotted here and there by min- 
iature islands^ The water is all depths, from 5 or 6ft to 
as many inches, and frequently they are aground and 
then all step overboard and, grasping the rail, drag the 
boat forward. Now Ned knows why the bottom of the 
boat was made flit: and he sees many things to make him 
exclaim "Oh!" ' Wonderful!" "What is that?" It is in- 
deed a fairy-land, for web-footed fairies perhaps, but 
marvelously beautiful. The dead gray cypress stumps, 
some of them 10ft. high, stand like sentinels in every di- 
rection, and upon almost every one of them clings an air 
plant (epiphytic orchid) in full bloom — that wonder of 
tropical Florida. The roots, white, fibrous and exposed, 
grasp the dry dead wood and , without a particle of mois- 
ture except what pervades the atmosphere, send forth a 
dozen or more spined leaves, similar to those at the top 
of the pineapple, and from their center a single spike, at 
whose extremity appears the bloom — scarlet, pink, blue, 
yellow and variegated, almost every color of the spec- 
trum. Then the living cypress and oak, festooned with 
yards of the silvery Spanish moss. And the birds: cur- 
lews, with their great pink, crescent shaped beaks and 
red legs; and the egrets, carrying between their wings 
that wavy plume so much prized by ladies; and the fla- 
mingo, standing like a flame on his long black legs; and 
the pelican, with his great fish pouch hanging like a 
sower's sack under his half yard of bill; and — but there 
in the soft mud is deer "sign" — sheep tracks, Ned would 
have said — and so a gun must not be fired, although he 
would like so much to take his mother an egret plume. 
The "sign" becomel more numerous, and the men 
direct Ned to paddle softly along the right shore of a 
small island, while they wade to it and carefully stalk 
on its shore. 
Ned lays his ,38-caliber rifle across the boat from rail to 
rail, and a double barrel 10-gauge shotgun loaded with 
buckshot by his side, thinking, if a deer should appear, 
he would first shoot with the rifle, and if he failed to hit 
with that would then use the shotgun. He then pushed 
the boat forward, keeping his face to the bow and his 
eyes on the scrub. Suddenly he hears a slight noise to his 
right, and turning in that direction sees the foliage open 
and out of it leap the cleanest, sleekest, most beautiful, 
slender limbed creature he ever saw. Holding his oars 
poised, he watches it in wonder and admiration as it takes 
easy lopes, splashing the shallow water at every jump, 
until it disappears within the dense foliage, not more 
than fifty yards away at any time. The men have heard 
the splashing, and, knowing what it means, rush toward 
Ned's side of the island. He hears them and looks down 
at his guns, and only then realizes that he has had what 
he had always boasted he never would have— buck ague. 
As he came up to the boat Lane asked, "Did you see the 
deer?"— "Yes."— "Then why didn't you shoot?" But as 
be saw the two great tears stand in the boy's eyes he did 
not press the question, but Ned heard him mutter, "We've 
all had it." 
They now push on for a mile or more, and then carefully 
hide their craft from the sun and any roving Seminole 
that may be "plume hunting" in that vicinity. 
It is now past noon and they lunch under a great pine 
and then shoulder their packs and trudge on. Ned is 
startled frequently by a whip snake darting for an instant 
above the dwarf palmetto. The suddenness of their ap- 
pearance and their proximity to his legs gives him an un- 
comfortable feeling, and he wonders how far it is yet to 
their camp. 
He has been up since midnight, toiling under a pack 
part of the time and often helping to drag the boat, while 
the sun has burned his skin until it stings, his eyes smart 
from the glare of the fierce rays upon the water, his back 
and feet ache, perspiration pours from his face, and he is 
happy, for he is accomplishing his purpose. 
"Here we are," he hears Doc say, as they approach a 
clump of trees situated on a slight rise of ground. 
Palmetto leaves are gathered and covered with a blanket 
for a bed, pine knots are soon blazing and the coffee pot 
is suspended over them. Then supper, and as the twilight 
deepens Ned listens while Traps and Doc "swap" stories 
in the glare of the camp-fire. Then to bed they go, three 
in a row, boots for pillows and the smoke from the pine 
knots floating over them to discourage the mosquitoes. 
While the other two sleep Ned looks for a long time 
into the face of that marvelous blue, studded with more 
brilliant gems than he has ever seen in any northern sky. 
It seems to him that he has only just fallen asleep, when 
he is aroused and told that the coffee is ready. 
During the pre-sunrise breakfast the boy is advised to 
take the shotgun instead of the rifle, for the reason that it 
does not require so accurate aim. Remembering his ex- 
perience of the previous day, he reluctantly decided to do 
this. All the "truck" being securely locked within the 
camp box, the party again set forth. It is nearsunrife 
and the wilderness is echoing with avian songs. Keeping 
to the uplands and avoiding as much as possible the 
marshes and lakes, they strike toward a point two miles 
beyond, where, in a large marsh, grows a particularly sue 
culent species of weed known as deer grass, and where 
deer are sure to be found if any are in the neighborhood. 
Soon "sign" is found, and they agree to speak only in 
whispers, and that if one says "halt" they are all to stand 
at once perfectly quiet. This because the game is exceed- 
ingly shy and alert to discover danger; and while a deer 
will look at a man standing still for full two minutes and 
then go to feeding again unalarmed, the least movement 
on the man's part would send it scurrying away. 
Thus they were advancing over an expanse of shallow 
water and ooze, their eyes sharply examining every object 
beyond— Ned on the right, Traps next and Doc on the left, 
with Spot, Traps's dog, a few yards in front of Ned, when 
the dog gave a smothered whine and sprang to the left. 
"Look out; snake," whispered Lane.- And there, a little 
to the right and not more than ten feet away, lay two 
coils of an obscurely blotched snake, its head in the center 
and its jaws thrown wide apart, showing the white inte- 
rior of its mouth and the swiftly-vibrating forked tongue 
Its small eyes gleamed wickedly and its body began to 
thicken and the circle of the coils to decrease in diameter 
as Traps grasped Ned by the arm and drew him back 
twenty feet or more. Then drawing the shell from his rifle 
and inserting another charged with silent powder, he 
stepped a few steps forward and raised his gun. There 
was a little white puff of smoke, and the venomous cotton- 
mouth moccasin (Ancistrodon piscivorus) was perforated 
just below its flat head, and after beating the mud for an 
instant lay dead. It measured 3ft. Tin., and asthey noted 
its trail in the soft mud, they saw that it had crossed 
squarely in front of them, and that, had it not been for 
the dog s warning, Ned would have walked upon it and 
must surely have been bitten. 
It is said, and old hunters affirm, that this species of 
snake will contract the body, and then by sudden expan- 
sion throw themselves three or four times their length 
toward the object of attack, striking their fangs into the 
victim, and that while they have known oases of men 
recovering from the bite of a rattler, they have not known 
of any recovering from the bite of the cottonmouth. 
After this incident it was agreed that one should look 
upon the ground for snakes while the others watched for 
deer. About an hour afterward Ned whispered. "Halt! 
Isn't that a deer over there to the right?" After looking 
for some moments Traps said in an undertone, "The boy 
has a good eye, there's two of them about a mile away." 
Now came the most difficult part — to get within range 
without frightening them. Traps secured Spot with a 
strap to his hunting belt, and then a consultation was 
held. 
In front of where the deer were feeding there stretched 
a long narrow ridge thickly covered with cypress and 
palmetto. If that could be reached it would afford a safe 
coyer, but there intervened a stretch of three-fourths of a 
mile that must be made in plain view of the game, and 
although the breeze was in their faces and the deer were 
feeding in the same direction that they were going, it 
would take m uch care to reach the cover, fs ed was in- 
structed to keep his eyes on the white spot at the rump of 
the larger animal and when that disappeared to stand 
perfectly rigid until it reappeared; that the white spot 
was the under side of the buck's short tail, and when he 
was feeding he would have his tail thrown up over his 
back and show the white, but that as soon as he looked 
up or was at all startled, the tail would come down and 
the white spot disappear. 
Then they started with long rapid strides and the first 
half mile was made quickly with only one stop, but the 
rest of the distance was made more slowly, as the game 
had changed its direction and was now feeding across 
their line of approach. 
At last they are behind the scrub and make their way 
until about opposite where the deer are feeding. It is 
agreed that Traps shall proceed and then cross the ridge 
beyond, while Doc shall cross midway between Traps and 
Ned. 
At a given signal they all enter the dense and tangled 
thicket and carefully and as rapidly as possible push 
through to the opposite side, knowing that one of them 
will have a fair target within range when they emerge. 
Which one it will be none of them know, as the animals 
may have shifted their position since they have been lost 
to view. 
Ned's heart beats with intensity as he proceeds, won- 
dering alternately if he will be the fortunate one and if 
there are snakes in the thicket. At length he pushes aside 
the vines and sees to his left— but out of range — the buck 
and doe feeding side by side, and knows that the next 
man will have the shot. How beautiful and sleek they 
look, these elegant aristocrats of the Everglades, and he 
almost hopes Doc will miss. 
Suddenly the buck raises his head and looks toward the 
thicket, then a sharp report rings out and echoes and re- 
echoes and re-echoes over and breaks the almost distress- 
ing silence. The buck rears on his hindlegs, and the doe 
turning dashes directly toward him. He cocks both 
barrels and pulls the triggers so nearly at the same time 
that the reports succeed each other like successive watch 
ticks. The recoil of the gun, produced by the almost 
simultaneous explosion of lOdrs. of powder, was so great 
as to hurl him backward upon the ground and loosen his 
hold upon the gun. Almost frantic and hardly knowing 
but that an earthquake was in progress, he tore bis way 
out, leaving his gun behind. 
The first thing he saw was the buck lying in the water, 
and then the men preparing to draw it to the ridge. It 
was found that the bullet from Doc's rifle had struck the 
left shoulder and broken it, then passed downward and 
out of the body on the other side. 
"But where is your gun?" asked both men of Ned. He 
then told them what had happened. "Well, didn't you 
hit her?" "I don't know, but I think I did." "We will 
look for your gun first and then see what has become of 
the doe," said Doc. 
Doing this, they found both, the doe lying dead at the 
edge of the thicket, less than thirty rods from the gun. 
As they were returning to camp loaded with venison 
Traps made a side remark to Doc to this effect, "That's 
the pluckiest young un I ever run ag'in. He's like a purp 
I had once. When he got after a possum he'd have him 
'fore he quit if it took a month. That boy will succeed." 
He was right, "That boy" is to-day a successful young 
man. E. J. Klock, M.A. 
ADIRONDACK LEAGUE CLUB DEER. 
New Yoke, June %\— Editor Forest and Stream: Upon 
my return to-day from a trip to the Adirondack League 
Club Preserve I read with astonishment Mr. Raymond S. 
Spears's letter in the last issue of Forest and Stream. 
Air. Spears is of tender years, and should not be con- 
founded with his father, who is well and favorably 
known as a writer from Northwood. His boyish letter is, 
unwittingly, I believe, an outrageous libel. 
During the past winter the Adirondack League Club's 
great tract was carefully watched by game constables, 
who are expert wood&men, and frequent reports of what 
was going on at the lumber camps were sent to me as 
chairman of the fish and game committee. Since the 
fishing season opened members visiting the preserve have 
sent occasional reports of their observations. In addition 
to these opportunities for keeping informed I have spent 
much time there and have continued to study and enjoy, 
as I have done during the past twelve years, what I be- 
lieve to be the most charming fishing and hunting 
grounds in the world. I think I know most of the facts 
about legal and illegal deer killing in the club territory, 
and am glad to have the opportunity of showing how Mr. 
Spears has been misled by his friend's tattle. 
He is informed that dead deer were seen between Moose 
River and Canachagala Lake. It is true that there are (or 
were a few months ago) at least nine dead deer there. 
They were not killed by dogs or wolves or weapons. 
Neither did they die from starvation, as the carcasses were 
in fairly good condition. The nature of their disease is 
to me entirely a matter of conjecture. One large buck 
was found alive, but in a dying condition. He was able 
to rise and move a short distance, when his hindlegs gave 
way. One of our men examined him carefully, found no 
mark on him, and did what he could to save his life. A 
doe was found in a helpless condition, with no marks on 
her. Her disease was apparently in the throat or lungs. 
As she was in a bad position, a bough bed was made for 
her and her immediate wants were supplied. I have 
