Deo, 13, 1896.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
468 
was mad. He came to me and said: "Give me your 
rope. You go back and hold the yearlings; and if I can't 
rope her again I'll run her down and circle her in toward 
you, and you can catch her with your fresh horse and I'll 
hold the yearlings." So away he went. 
I went back and soon had the calves quiet and under 
control , and had a fine view of the chase. The two horses 
ran like birds for about three miles, and then Alex could 
turn her, but could not run up on to her close enough to 
rope her, so he turned her south, and away they went. 
Just then I looked south and here came another man 
with a few yearlings, all alone. I looked at him through 
my field glass and it was J. W. Leweling, who now lives 
in Rocky Ford, Colo. He also was out seeking what he 
might pick up this fine morning. Alex drove the mare 
past me just as Lew came up. Lew and I were friends. 
I explained the situation to him in a few words; told him 
to follow with the cattle, his and ours, and that I would 
help Alex corral the mare at one of Lew's corrals, and for 
him to come to us with the cattle. It was all right, and 
away I went. The corral was three miles away and I 
soon had the mare in it. Then Alex came up, with not 
much go left in his horse. 
The stray was a wild thing with a fair Texas saddle, a 
headstall with a bit of broken rope hitched to it, which 
showed that she had worn or broken it off- There was 
blood on the saddle, in the seat and on the stirrup fender 
— old blood dried on— lots of it. There waa a big pack 
tied on behind the saddle. The story was easy to read, 
A man shot off the saddle, probably by Indians, perhaps 
by white men, and the mare had proved too fast for them 
and had got away. We roped her and threw her, and 
when we took oflt the saddle the hair came off her 
belly where the girths had been on so long and 
so tight. She may have had the saddle on two 
weeks. There was a fine Mexican blanket under 
the saddle and another one in the pack behind; also 
a pair of jean pants with $30 in one pocket in a pocket- 
book; two bottles of strychnine; a Mexican home-made 
awl to mend shoes, matches, a buckskin, and quite a lot 
of other trinkets. There was not a scrap of writing in 
the pack, nor any brand on the mare. So Alex put on 
the pants and I put one of the blankets under my saddle. 
Here came Lew, and we put in ten tine yearlings along 
with the mare. Then we divided. Lew took the mare 
and saddle. Alex and I took the pack and blankets. 
Lew took his four yearlings, and I gave Alex my half of 
the $30 for his three. So we pitched in and branded; then 
turned the mare in with a bunch of Lew's horses which 
ran near there, and went back to the Perley & Dixon 
ranch by the light of the moon, awful hungry, but feel- 
ing very chipper. How we did eat beefsteak and tortillas 
and drink black coffee at about 10 o'clock that night. 
Here my memory fades. Lnw slept there that night, 
but whether we went out together again next day or not 
I don't remember. Ask them if you want to know. 
They are as alive as I am, I do remember this: Alex 
once said after that that Le'^ got two good colts from the 
mare and then sold her for |60, and got a good cow and 
calf for the saddle, and that it was a poor divide for us; 
but I told him thab I'd have been well paid in fun if I 
hadn't got a thing. And now you know something about 
it too. W. J, Dixon. 
A FEW DAYS IN THE WOODS. 
Ip you can spare the space I will tell you and your 
readers of a short trip I made to the woods a few days 
ago: 
On the morning of October 13 my wife went to Pitts- 
burg, Pa., leaving our boy, who will not be nine years 
old until in November, and me to run things during her 
absence, which was to continue until the evening of 
Thursday, ISfch inst. The boy, whose name is Frank, has 
always had an ambition to "go camping" in the woods, 
and I thought this a good time to gratify it. A few days 
before I had made an arrangement with a friend to camp 
on his place at a spot I knew of, and I told Frank that 
we would spend the time in the woods while his mother 
was gone. 
I commenced preparations, being constantly reminded : 
"Pa, you know Nessmuk says, 'Go light.' " He has read 
Nessmuk, but if I'd taken all that he suggested wis'd have 
had two or three teams for the transpartation. 
What I did take was: cloth for a tent and two little 
sacks for pillows, a pair of genuine Mackinaw blankets, 
which have often rendered me similar service; a pair of 
ponchos, very large ones; a small double-blade axe, 
weighs lirlbs. ; a frying-pan, two tin cups, a small coffee- 
pot, a double-barreled hammerless shotgun, thirty shells 
loaded; a small Stevens rifle, weighs about 41 bs., .22cal,; 
two boxes cartridges for it; two loaves of bread, a half- 
gallon bottle filled with fresh new milk, about a half 
pound of ground coffee, a little pat of butter, about a 
pound of raw sliced ham, and a dozen eggs. Of course I 
had some pepper and salt, my pipe, tobacco and matches. 
I gave a liveryman a dollar to drive us out to the place, 
about five miles away, and made the necessary arrange- 
ments as to his coming after us. After we had unloaded 
and the liveryman had left I looked at my watch and it 
was 3 o'clock P. M, In about an hour I had our tent set 
up, had cut down two small hemlocks, and we picked 
the "browse" fine for a bed and stuffed the sacks with 
the same for pillows. Then I kindled a fire and soon 
had a good one. Frank made his supper of bread and 
milk; I ate ham, two eggs, and drank a pint of hot coffee. 
Then we sat and talked, and I smoked and told him stories 
until he began to get sleepy, when I pat him to bed. It 
sounded pathetic out in the vast solitude to hear the 
youngster saying his prayers in the tent just as though 
he were in bed at home. 
After he had gone asleep I fixed up some matters about 
the camp, replenished the fire, and sat and smoked and 
thought for about an hour, when, on looking at my 
watch, I found it was 9:30 and I went to bed, I had 
thought that there would be rain for some time, and 
awakening in the night I could hear the patter of rain 
drops on the tent and the drip of water from the forest 
leaves, I saw that our fire was all right and soon dropped 
off to sleep again. When I next awakened it was 6 
o'clock. I jumped up and set about preparing breakfast. 
Before it was ready Frank awakened, got up, dressed 
washed in the little run, which was great fun for him' 
and we ate our breakfast. ' 
H lAfter things had been cleared away I took the shotgun 
put two shells into it and half a dozan into my pocket' 
told Frank to take the little rifle, and we walked up the 
run. About 300yda. from camp a pheasant (ruffed 
grouse) sprang up with the peculiar boom of the species 
and started swiftly through the woods, but within SOyds. 
a shot from my right barrel had cut him down, and at 
the same moment a second bird sprang up, and my left 
barrel caught him about 40yd3. away. I pushed fresh 
cartridges into my gun, Frank brought in two dead birds, 
and we continued our walk. Seeing nothing more, we 
went back to the camp, and I put in the rest of the 
forenoon giving him some lessons with the rifle, and soon 
satisfied myself that he has the making of a marksman in 
him — he holds well and shoots with both eyes open. 
The afternoon I spent in repeating my lessons in shoot- 
ing to Frank. In the evening I raked over the remains of 
a large fire, and having wrapped our two pheasants in 
large balls of clay, placed them in a hole in the bed of the 
fire, covered them up, and rebuilt the fire on them. We 
slept soundly this night, and on Wednesday morning 
after breakfast again started out. This time we went 
down the stream, and I got four pheasants and four wood- 
cock. I had taken a dozen shells with me and two in my 
gun. As we were returning I saw a fine gray squirrel run 
up a tree, I was satisfied it had not been alarmed by us, 
and soon saw it on a limb about 40ft. from the ground. I 
called Frank, pointed out the squirrel, and told him to 
try it. He seemed not to want to shoot, but I told him, 
"Go ahead, and if you miss I'll get it with my shot- 
gun." 
He rested his gun on a little limb and fired, and I con- 
fess to not a little surprise when the squirrel fell out of 
the tree dead, having been shot just behind the shoulders. 
Immediately after the crack of the little gun a second 
squirrel, much higher on the same tree, ran out on a limb 
and barked furiously. I said to Frank: "Can you load 
your gun? IE you can, push in a cartridge and try that 
one from the same place," I soon saw that he could and 
did load his gun, and resting on the same limb he fired, 
and the second squirrel fell to the ground. This squirrel 
had been struck in the throat and its neck was broken. 
As we walked back to camp Frank said: 
"Pa, don't you think it would have been better if we 
had let these birds and squirrels alone? We didn't need 
them. They were pretty when they were alive, but now 
they're dead, and it does seem to me that we oughtn't to 
have killed them, because we came into the woods to the 
home of these pretty things and killed them just for fun. 
We wouldn't like it if anybody was to kill us for fun, 
would we?" There it was again, the instinct of our cooler 
moments against killing, I knew it all before, but now 
with the clear eyes of childhood looking into mine, 
hardened it may be by years in the world and in contact 
with men, I felt like a murderer and as though my boy 
had become one at my order, I explained as best I could, 
but in such circumstances we see the fallacy of the 
sophisms with which we are wont to solace ourselves. 
We reached camp, where I made some coffee, prepared 
our dinners and dug out the pheasants that I had "mudded 
up" the night before. We made a glorious meal, and 
Frank declared that he had never tasted anything so good 
in his life before. 
In the afternoon we walked in a different direction, 
and got hickory nuts, a few chestnuts, some wild grapes 
— the genuine mountain blue grape— and some "stones 
with shells in them," as Frank described certain fossil 
remains that we found. That evening Frank went to 
bed early, saying as he lay down, "Well, pa, this is our 
last day in the woods this year, and I'm glad we're going 
home to-morrow." I shortly followed him. 
Morning came, and after breakfast we again took our 
guns and went out into the woods. It was a glorious 
morning, and the autumn leaves showed all their glorious 
tints. I got two pheasants and we returned to camp at 
12 o'clock. ^ 
After dinner and a smoke I commenced tearing down 
preparatory to removal. Everything was packed and 
ready to put on the buck wagon at 3 o'clock. I lighted 
my pipe and we sat by the smouldering remains of our 
fire, until at 3:15 we heard the cheery hello of the livery- 
man and were soon speeding homeward. Arriving there, 
we unloaded, unpacked, put things away -and met my wife 
at the train. When she saw "the game," six pheasants, 
four woodcock and two squirrels, all had to be explained, 
and Frank said, "We're going again next year, aren't 
we, pa?" Cost, $2 to the liveryman and my time. Frank 
has something to talk about for a lifetime. Who will 
say it wasn't worth the money? It is only fair to add 
here that Frank declared on eating of the birds .after- 
ward that although they were good yet they didn't 
taste like the birds we cooked in the woods in the balls of 
^l^y* Amateur. 
Pknnstltamia. 
WAYS OF THE RUFFED GROUSE. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
1 have just read with much interest Mr. B. Waters's 
admirable monographs on our four most familiar game 
birds, I hesitate to make any objections to such an 
acknowledged authority as Mr. Walters, but my experi- 
ence leads me to different conclusions in one small par- 
ticular. 
In his paper on the ruffed grouse Mr. Waters again and 
again refers to the " aversion of the ruffed grouse to the 
haunts of man," He says : " It ventures into the opan 
only on such infrequent occasions as it is tempted to 
search for food, and then only in places seldom invaded 
by man, and where it fancies there is freedom from pur- 
suit." "The ruffed grouse is 'ever intent on making its 
home and haunts distinctly apart from those of man." 
In two or three other places he makes statements to the 
same effect. 
Now I think that the man who would hunt this bird 
on that principle in the populated portions of Maine 
would be very unsuccsessful. 
I have shot the ruffed grouse in Missouri, West Vir- 
ginia and Maine. What he says is fully in accord with 
the habits of the bird in Missouri and West Virginia, so 
far as my observation goes. It also seems true in the 
wilderness of northern Maine, judging from what vari- 
ous sportsmen have told me. But it seems that just the 
reverse is true in the more settled sections of Maine, at 
least in Oxford and Cumberland counties, where my 
experience has been obtained. I have hunted in these 
counties seven or eight seasons. My score one year was 
44 ; this year it has been 19. 
' I have always found so many more birds on the skirts 
of the woods near farmhouses that I always hunt on the 
edge before entering the body of the woods. When it is 
practicable I work along the edge altogether, 
I do not suppose that Bonasa umbellus has any particu- 
lar affection for man, but he finds more food— apples, 
grasshoppers, checkerberries, etc.— on the borders of the 
woods. I believe that, constantly being scared up by boys 
and men, the birds lose that extreme fear of man which 
is characteristic of them in less settled sections. 
It is commonly reported that the birds have been un- 
commonly wild and scarce this year. I have not found 
it so. They seem to me to have been wild, but as numer- 
ous as in other years. Last year, however, their num- 
ber was greater than usual. 
The ruffed grouse which I shot in Missouri were of a 
much browner color (approaching the color of a wood- 
cock) than those of this State. I wonder if this has been 
noticed by others. G. S Ellis. 
Maine. 
THE HEATH HEN. 
Boston, Dec. 2 —Editor Forest and Stream: The com- 
munications and editorials which my inquiries in regard 
to the Martha's Vineyard prairie chicken or heath hen 
have brought out have been most interesting, and, as in- 
formation, gratifying to me. On the other hand, the 
almost if not quite completed extinction of this fine 
species is far from comfortable reading, 
I have had no chance to look up the article on this bird 
referred to, as printed in Forest and Stream some years 
ago, but it is clear that a large body of information exists 
and awaits the industry of some one interested to write a 
full and exhaustive monograph on the subject, I write 
to make an earnest plea for some one to do this work. 
No better subject could be wished. The thanks of all 
ornithologists and all naturalists and all good sportsmen 
also await him who shall give us such book. 
There must be yet discoverable many a reference to the 
Martha's Vineyard heath hen in the old chronicles of the 
island and of the considprably wider territory which it 
once inhabited. I distinctly remember statements— per- 
haps in Forest and Stream, but if so published many 
years ago — to the effect that the bird once inhabited Nan- 
tucket, Long Island, the pine barrens of New Jersey, and 
probably at least the southern portions of Rhode Island 
and Connecticut. Then there is the fascinating field of 
investigation of the living remnant, if, as I hope and 
believe, there is one. Will not gentlemen living on Mar- 
tha's Vineyard or making long visits to the island take 
this matter in hand? 
It seems to me that the mating time in the spring would 
be the best season to determine the number of birds re- 
maining. The "booming" sound made by the males can 
be heard a long distance, and would, I should think, surely 
betray every colony of the birds that may be left. I 
would go a long way to hear that sound again, unheard 
by me for many a year; and would give much for the 
chance to steal upon and witness the amazing tourna- 
ments and strutting contests they hold at that time, and 
which in boyhood in northern Illinois I used to see. I 
can assure any of our New England students who have 
never seen one of these tournaments that it is a sight 
worth great exertion. And I believe it is yet within their 
privilege. 
Moreover, there should be secured at least a few authen- 
tic specimens before it is too late. I am anxious to know 
if any Western prairie chickens have ever been added to 
the native stock on Martha's Vineyard, as has been 
alleged. Surely somebody must be able to answer this 
question. It has often been asserted that this was done, 
but I have never been able to prove it to be more than a 
rumor. I thank the editors of Forest and Stream for re- 
publishing that most fascinating paper on the pinnated 
grouse, by Audubon. As I read it, I recalled my own 
first memories of the bird, and experiences with it in In- 
diana and Illinois in 1861-2 and 3, where it then existed 
m vast numbers. My uncle, who at a little earlier period 
moved from New Hampshire to Indiana, told me that for 
a long time he was accustomed, whenever he wanted a 
chicken for breakfast, to quietly open his door, loaded 
gun in hand, early in the morning and shoot one from 
the ridge pole of his house, where he was almost certain 
to find one roosting. They used to assemble in autumn 
in vast flocks, and I well remember my own first attempt 
to secure a bird by shooting blindly and without special 
aim into one of these whirling flacks and my discovery 
of two important things, viz,, that I must, if I wished to 
get a bird, aim at a particular one, and also that I must 
not judge distances on the prairie as I would among the 
hills of New Hampshire. I found myself at first blazing 
away at game which seemed within easy reach of my 
gun, but which was in fact two or three gunshots away. 
I enjoyed every word of Mr. Hough's long article on 
prairie shooting, and while I am spaaking of him I want 
especially to thank him for his true word-pictm-e of the 
Kankakee Marsh and its peculiar people. "Down on the 
Marsh" we used to call it, and we could tell true stories 
of the variety and abundance there of game and fish in 
the sixties that would hardly be believed now by any but 
"old-timers." Mr. Hough knows the marsh, as his article 
plainly proves, and I beg leave to ask him to shake. - ■ 
But to return for a final word about the Martha's Vine-: 
yard heath hen, will not your correspondent Keatwoo'd, 
whose letter in your issue of Oct. 31 is the latest and most 
authentic news on the subject, undertake further research 
and give us the result? I am sure the brethren of the 
great Forest and Stream circle will be glad to have him 
do it. c. H, Ames. 
Weight of Moose. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I read an article in a late issue treating of the weight 
of moose. In an experience of over fifty years in a great 
moose region, I have had opportunities to know the exact 
weight of dressed meat of moose and other game as 
brought to camp by hunters. I assisted in weighing one 
bull moose that went an even SOOlbs. for the four quarters. 
I shot a cow moose that exceeded this weight by several 
pounds. Now, if I recollect aright, the rule at the 
slaughtering establishments is to allow SBibs. for the four 
quarters of dressed meat to the lOOlbs. gross weight of a 
prime ox. The examples of moose given were fat, the 
cow remarkably so; and by the rule given a very close 
