Oct. 3, 1896.j 
lived on Van Beuren street. To those who only know the 
Chicago River as it is now this statement may be doubted, 
for in its black and ill-smelling Water a self-respecting 
mud turtle would decline to live. Yet I ask to be believed 
when I say that many good fish were taken from the , 
docks in the South Branch by myself and others forty- 
two years ago, As a rule the fish were not as large aa 
those taken in the lake, and just what kinds they were is 
partly forgotten, but yellow perch were plenty, and so 
were small dogfish, Amid, Tbese latter even the om- 
nivorous Pete could not eafe> although he pronounced the 
eel-pout "Pooty goot.'* 
The old gentleman was greatly pleased when I called at 
his house for him to go and fish. He said: "It is very 
good of you to come for me; very few care to bother 
with a man when he is no longer young and is nearly 
blind. I often think I've stayed here too long, and only 
for Billy—" 
I interrupted with: "Yes, Billy is a good boy, one in a 
thousand, and you may be proud of such a devoted son." 
Then he was led from that depressing line of thought by 
a story of a deer hunt in northern New York and of jolly 
times in camp with Port Tyler until he forgot his infirm- 
ities and told stories of fishing in salt water and of shoot- 
ing bay birds on Long Island, all of which were unknown 
sports to me. He became enthusiastic and finally said: 
"I'll sing you a hunting song which I learned in Eng- 
land," and after crooning for the key sang in a rich bari- 
tone, a little shaky with age, the following, which I never 
heard before nor since: 
Some love to roam over the dark sea's foam, 
Where the shrill wind whistles free. 
But a chosen band, in a mountain land, 
Ob, a life in the woods for me. 
The deer we mark thro' the forest dark, 
And the prowling wolf we track, 
Our right good cheer is the wild boar, here; 
Then why should the hunter lack? 
BiUy Raynor, the exquisite tenor, came honestly by his 
voice, that was certain, and I induced the old gentleman 
to sing it until both words and tune are as familiar to-day 
as then. A tolerably musical ear told me long ago that 
if 1 ever attempted to sing the police would pull the 
house on the suspicion that there was a dog fight in the 
back room, and therefore whenever asked if I can sing I 
quote the Hon. Bard well Slote and reply : "Those who 
have heard me say 1 can't." But in my house is a young 
lady, and a piano, and on the wall of my den hangs a 
banjo of the vintage of 1860, and its strings seem to have 
treasured up the air of that hunting song so that the 
piano sympathizes with it and the young lady sings the 
words occasionally to the accompaniment of the afore- 
said implement of torture. There was a sort of "yo, ho" 
chorus which is forgotten, as is also the latter part of the 
verse beginning: 
When the morning gleams o'er the mountairi'streams- 
Then merrily forth we go, 
To follow the stag o'er the slippery crag 
And chase the bounding doe. 
The little we know of it serves to bring up the memory 
of the dear old singer who sang it amid the unpoetie sur- 
roundings of the Chicago River one day when Tiis poor 
heart was lighter than usual. 
One day he said : "Billy is going to have a week off, the 
hall is to be renovated, and he will spend his vacation 
down at Kankakee shooting ducks, and last night he said 
that he would like to have you go with him if you could 
get off. Poor boy! he needs a week off if anyone does; 
working in the office of the grain warehouse all day and 
singing at the minstrels six nights and in the church choir 
twice on Sundays keeps him so busy that he never has an 
hour to himself. Only for me he would not have to work 
so hard, and I sometimes think — " 
"Now see here, Mr. Raynor, this is only an idle fancy 
of yours. Billy is a busy boy, to be sure, but he likes it, 
and his m^in delight is to see you happy. You are not a 
burden to him, but it is his pleasure to see you made com- 
fortable. He has no bad nor expensive habits, and I 
know that his first thought is for you. Drop this idea 
that he would be better off without you. I believe that I 
know him better than you do." 
"It seems good to hear you say so," said he, "and it iet 
no doubt true; but my mind has outlived my body, and 
at times I feel morbid, blue, or whatever you may call it. 
If you will go down there with Billy I will know that you 
and he will look out for each other. I will take a vacation 
if I know that y ou two boys are together taking one. Will 
you go?" 
"I will find out. Like Billy, I must consult others. 
To-morrow night you will know, but it might be weU tO' 
have the invitation from Billy. Surely, he cannot expect 
me to go with hird without a direct invitation; I was 
with him last night and he did not mention it." 
"Not to you, but he first consulted me as one whose 
approval of a companion for a week seemed to him to be 
necessary. No matter how much BLlly might think of 
you he would want his father to know the kind of com- 
pany he was in and have my approval. His business as- 
sociates are not always his social ones, and like the wise 
boy that he is he separates them. He doesn't care to ask: 
your companion, Pete, to go because he overheard him 
say something about his kissing me. Billy was brought 
up that way, and doesn't like any comment on his kiss- 
ing his father. We are all there is left of the family, and 
our customs are our own." 
A 10-gauge gun was hired, and we went down some 
fifty miles south of Chicago to the great ducking grounds 
of the Kankakee, of which I had heard so much. Even 
the preparation for the start was a revelation to one 
whose idea of duck shooting about Albany had been that 
it was a large day if he got ten shots and four ducks. 
Then lib. of powder and 4lbs. of shot was a great allow- 
ance, and more than half of it was lugged home at night 
unless it was expended on blackbirds, rail or other small 
game. Therefore, when we talked over the trip and 
came to the detail of ammunition I was astounded when 
Billy said: "Let's see, six days; well, say twelve pounds 
of powder, fifty pounds of shot — ounce and a quarter to 
each load — that's fifteen ounces of shot for a dozen 
charges, say a pound foradozsn loads and a hundred 
shots per day; yes, fifty pounds will do to start with, and. 
we can get more down there if we need it, but these 
things can be bought cheaper here." 
There was a belief which I cherished that I had done 
some shooting, and had on one occasion loaded up with. 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
21bs. of powder and Slbs. of shot for a week's sport, but 
Billy's figures staggered me — metaphorically speaking, 
"they took my breath away." As soon as I could come 
up to the surface I ventured to ask: "Have you ever shot 
down there at Kankakee?" 
"Oh, yes, I go down there in spring and fall; the ducks 
are plenty, I assure you. Did you think that I didn't 
know any thing about the place?" 
"No, I only asked for information because the amount 
of ammunition seemed somewhat larger than I have been 
accustomed to use, but if you think it is what we will 
need it's all right; you know best." 
"You'll need it all. Have everything packed for the 
11 P, M. train Sunday night, and I'll meet you at the 
station and we'll have a good time for a week." 
Such flights of ducks! Such flocks of ducks! The sky, 
the lower air and the water was fidl of them. Aa BiUy 
rowed our little boat along the marshes in a small stream 
it seemed to me that he was wasting time and missing 
shots, but when he pulled up on a dry point of land and 
we hauled the boat ashore and propped it on edge, the 
reeds and rushes with which we covered it made a splen- 
did blind to shoot from. No decoys were necessary, the 
ducks were uneducated in the matter of artificial blinds 
and came past ours without a thought of danger. We 
too were not up to the modern plan of having several 
guns, or the slaughter might have been greater. Where I 
had shot, along the Popscheny, a half dozen ducks was 
a large day's shooting and one was not considered bad. Day 
after day no duck was bagged, and a few rail and black- 
birds were accepted as better than nothing — with the hope 
of better luck next time. On those trips mud hens and 
hell-divers, or even a sheldi-ake, was counted as a duck, 
and it was a new sensation to be told: "Don't shoot, 
they're only sawbills." 
Accustomed to taking in everything which came 
within range, this was something new. The fact that a 
gunner could sit down in cold blood and select the kind 
of waterfowl on which to expend ammunition was a 
novelty. Instead of wishing for any sort of duck to 
come within shooting range here, we were refusing shots 
to all except a favored (?) few. 
It was cruel shooting — cruel because it was wasteful. 
We shifted our blind so that we shot against the wind as 
it changed, and the dead ducks drifted to us. A cripple 
that escaped the first fire could not be chased, for we had 
only one ooat, and if not killed before it got out of range 
it crept into the marsh to be eaten by mink, gulls or 
hawks. A philosopher might ask what difference all this 
made to the duck: whether the mink or the birds got 
him, or whether his carcass passed into the hands of a 
hotel chef and was served to a convivial party, with the 
accompaniment of celery and the juice of the vine. Men 
whose minds conceive such questions are not worth 
bothering with. They think up all kinds of problems to 
pester the un philosophical man, and seem to delight in 
investigatinj? the minds of ducks and other animals. In 
the year of a presidential election they are the cranks 
who go through a railroad car taking "straw votes," and 
would ask a duck whether he would prefer to be eaten by 
a mink in a swamp, or to be served with celery ' and 
champagne at Bill Monico's. If these pestilent cranks 
would only invent a flying machine which would actually 
fly, and then rush in before our blinds, back wind with their 
wings, and let their legs down to 'light, how happy we 
would be to give them IJoz, of swan shot. 
We shot only at mallards, pintails, widgeon and teal, 
letting all other fowl pass. At night we counted out 158 
ducks of these species — the number is remembered because 
it was the most wonderful duck shooting for two guns that 
I had ever dreamed of — and we could have taken in a 
number of butterballs, whistlers and other ducks if we 
had wished to kill them, but Billy said they were not 
w^orth wasting powder on. 
As we rowed back to our stopping place there was time 
to review the events of the day and ponder on the new 
ducks, which were examined curiously while Billy rowed 
the boat. The only ones that I had known were wood 
ducks, mallards, black ducks and the blue-winged teal, 
The green-wing, pintail and widgeon were new, while 
such ducks as butterball, whistler and bluebill were 
Barnes only. Heretofore there had never been more 
game than could be taken care of and consumed at home 
or given to friends, and the presence of about SSOlbs. of 
ducks in the boat and the prospect of five days' more 
shooting presented a problem. What could we do with 
this mass of g'ame? We could not eat much of it and we 
had but few local friends. In the excitement of shooting 
these questions had not obtruded themselves as they did 
now. Pondering on these things, I asked: "Billy, what 
will we do with all the ducks?" 
"They are all right; there'll be a man at the landing to 
meet us who will take care of them; there he stands now 
waiting for us. He will send them to market every day 
and on Saturday we will keep out what we want to take 
home." 
The man took the game and put it in his wagon and 
drove off to the railway station, and after supper he came 
in and settled up, paying us $15.30 for our ducks, or about 
what it had cost for the expenses for ammunition and 
travel. This was certainly paying expenses, and just 
what I had hoped for in going West, but somehow it was 
not satisfactory. It brought into the transaction a mer- 
cenary spirit which had never before been connected with 
my sport. At first the feeling of dissatisfaction was 
vague and without shape. We divided the money and 
talked it over. The expedition was more than successful 
from a financial point, but there was something in my 
manner which caused my companion to say: 
"You don't seem as enthusiastic as you did. What's the 
matter, don't you like the table they set here or did some- 
thing happen down in the marsh which displeased you? 
Be frank with me, and spit it out if anything has gone 
"svrong; don't sulk, tire it out." 
Up to this point I really did not know the cause of a 
change of demeanor which had been noticed. There was 
only a dim consciousness of something unpleasant. 
"Billy," said I, "if I have appeared to be depressed it is 
because our ducks were carted off by an unknown man to 
be sold to unknown consumers in the market. Every 
duck, pigeon or rabbit that I ever killed before to-day was 
either eaten by my own family or given to a friend. Part 
of the triumph of the hunt lay in the bringing of the game 
to the table, and as my friends enjoyed the treat I also 
enjoyed being the treater. If 1 was at the feast every 
mouthful eaten by each individual was enjoyed by me as 
a contributor, whose hard work on shore or upland was 
^7J 
rewarded by the knowledge that others were enjoying th^ 
fruits of my skill and — " 
"That you are a blooming egotist whose personality en- 
ters into every duck or other game. Is that what you 
mean?" 
"Billy, you have put it into words which are strictly 
true, but were in a nebulous condition in my brain. You 
have summed up the case in a masterly way. Never be- 
fore did I measm-e the value of game of any kind in 
money, although I have had a desire to turn my love of 
field sports into a way of making a living, This desire 
was in a crude form before this, but now that the mari 
has carted off my game to be eaten by men who do not 
thank me for it, do not know me, and may be drunk 
when they eat it, I wish I had my ducks and he had his 
money — " 
"Well, you'll go out in the morning and shoot some 
more, won't you?" 
"Yes, but I'll build a blind and use the boat to chase 
cripples. I don't like to see a wounded duck go off into 
the marsh to die or to, be eaten by minks or gulls. It isn't 
right." 
"All right," said he, "anything to keep peace in the 
family, but down here ducks are too plenty to go chasing 
cripples. The gunners here will think you are crazy to 
waste your time in that way and scare off a flock to get a 
pripple. Go ahead, though, I don't care." 
I tried it, but it did keep flocks from coming our way. 
Some gunners lOOyds. below protested, and the chasing 
of cripples was stopped. 
We shot six days. The first day more than paid all 
expenses of the trip, and there was a good balance in our 
favor as well as thirty ducks among our plunder on our 
return Saturday night. The ducks we gave to friends, 
and when Pete Loeser received a pair and heard the story 
he said: "Py shimminy, de air must pe so full mit ducks 
dere voa no room for shot to co between dem ven dey fly. 
I never dinks dere vos so many." 
I had an invitation to dine with Mr. Raynor and his son 
next day, and the old gentleman was very jolly and sang 
the hunter's song and that sweetest of old English ballads, 
"Sally in Our Alley;" while the son, who, like all profes- 
sional singers, usually decline to sing on social occasions, at 
the earnest request of the ladies gave us "Mary of Argyle" 
and several other songs. When the others had retired 
Mr. Raynor beat me at two games of chess, the clock 
'struck midnight and the vacation week ended. 
The winter closed in and before spring I could now and 
then checkmate my elderly friend, and when that hap- 
pened he would explain how it could not have baen done 
if he had not made a certain move some ten moves back 
of the finish. He was a delightful old man when his 
mind was off his physical troubles, and he and his son 
were devoted to each other. As soon as the ice was out 
of the river he sent me word to come up and fish with 
him the first moment possible. His bodily infirmities 
had increased and he had now but one eye that was of 
service and that was very poor. I baited his hooks and 
threw out his line, and when he pulled in a fish saw that 
the hooks did not enter his hands. He was quite despond- 
ent one day; said he: "Freddy, my boy, 1 wonder that 
the good Lord doesn't take me. Many a time I've asked 
Him to call me, but for some reason He does not do it. I 
am only a burden on Billy, and the pains in my head 
from that railroad accident are more than I can bear. 
Billy has a severe cold and has been laid off several days. 
If anything should happen to him I — ". 
Things were getting uncomfortable and to turn the 
tide I ventured to say: "Don't worry about Billy, we all 
have colds and get over them; of course, he couldn't sing 
in his present state, but he'll be all right next week. 
There! That fish is off and your bait is all right again." 
Billy's cold did not get better and I was called to sit up 
with him. Pneumonia developed and the old man had 
to be removed from his room. Pete had gone to Wiscon- 
sin, and the minstrel boys and the church choir sent 
watchers in such numbers that they could not be used. 
It was my duty to superintend the watchers and com- 
fort the father, but the end came in a few days. Rela- 
tives from Boston came to the funeral, but Mr. Raynor 
clung to me and insisted on my being with him at the 
last sad rites. 
The next day, while walking up Market street, I heard 
a little girl say: "They've found a drowned man in the 
river; come on, Maggie, let's go down and see him." I 
followed along in idle curiosity and saw the man. It was 
the body of an old man and I gave his name to the 
coroner. - Fred Mathee. 
Moosehead Fishing. 
Kjneo, Me., Sept. 23, — Just a word in regard to the fine 
fishing we guests of the Mt. Kineo House are enjoying. 
Mr. Frank Payson, Portland, Me., two fine landlocked 
salmon, Olbs. in weight, also fifteen trout; Mr. Z, T. Hol- 
lingsworth, Boston, Mass,, three trout, lOlbs. in weight; 
Mr. A. S. Jerome, Louisville, Ky., two trout, Slbs. in 
weight; Mr. A. H. Jacksc^, New York, one salmon 4lb8. 
and one trout 3ilbs.; Mr. J. W. Kirkham, Springfield, 
Mass., eight trout, S^lbs. in weight. 
These trout and salmon were taken with fly, and only 
a short distance from the hotel. These are only a few of 
the many catches brought in daily. 
The prospect of hunting for moose, caribou and fleer 
was never better; large numbers are seen daily by some 
of the guests, and a great many sportsmen are preparing 
for the woods, so as to have their share when the law is 
off, which will be Oct. 1. The weather is fine, and there 
are over a hundred guests here at the Kineo House to 
enjoy it. The large house will remain open until Oct. 15. 
A Kineo Spoktsman. 
How Calcutta Bamboos are Mottled. 
At every joint the bamboo has a silicious sheath which 
enfolds it close to the joint, opening between the tsvo 
joints. It would take time to strip this by hand, more- 
over this thin tissue cuts like a knife. To remove it the 
bamboos are cut and allowed to dry a week or so in the 
sun. A large wood fire is then made and allowed to burn 
until there is only a mass of glowing coal. The bamboos 
are then drawn singly or in twos or threes across the fire; 
the sheath burns like tinder, tinting the bamboo deepest 
at the joint, where the sheath has most substance. This 
precess heats the sap also, .and an instant suffices to 
straighten the bamboos, which are generally curved and 
sometimes crooked, U. F. Amery. 
