AraiL 10, 189?. | 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
283 
ttout. Ill yolj iiave caught trout you know all about it, and 
If ydu haven't It is no use to tdk to you on the subject. 
And up aboVe the daui was A pilace vi^here the deer croissed 
bretty often. Such a country for deer! dut by the side 
thfe house was a tall rack, whfere the deer often got hung 
njjl in the fall; riot a strd,crgling onfei or twd, but flftfeeri oi 
t;wenty in a seaspn, and there \Hr^ so nlati^ nidi-e ih tile 
woods that it didn't make any difference in the iiuint'er. 
I remember one old buck that weighed 3071bs. He is con- 
spicuous in the f-enter of the picture. , , . . 
Sonietiiries a black, glossy-coated bear, with crafty little 
eyes and short legs daiigled ignominiously from this gal- 
lows, high out of the reftch of h^rm from the dogs and 
other prowlers less domestic. 
_ But, as I was saying, did you ever track a deer through 
6in. of snow? In the early morning, after forcing yourself 
out of a warm bed on to the remarkably cold, bare floor; 
hastily dressing, with chattering teeth, and swallowing a 
cup of hot colfee, impatient of breakfast, you started for 
the neighbbring hills. First would appear in the path 
dhfead thfe ti-ack of the early rising fox, and hie search for 
jfeakfast wEis plainly recorded in each place where he had 
;urned aside to nose the track of mouse or red squirrel. In 
ess than a c|uartefo'f A mile the tracks lengthened out into 
long, galloping leaps, showing where he had first hfeaihd 
your approafch, stopped to listen, and then humped himsel? 
to get but of that. Not forty i-ods further was the faint 
THfl! TCAQLE'S nest. 
streak in the snow, recognizable 100yds. away, where two 
big fawns had leisurely dawdled up the hillside. Over the 
ridge the direction of the tracks showed their destination 
to be a brushy spot at the head of the little valley. A long 
drcuit,'^ careful approach from the other side, and the first 
thing you knew you were almost on to them, and there 
they were, scudding through the brush in two different 
directions. Bang! bang! bang! how a repeater does just 
work itself without your knowing that you touch your 
lever! As you anxiously watched the result of the rapid 
fusillade, almost as if it was some other man who held the 
rifle, suddenly you saw a binding fly out helpless. Over 
the fallen logs you jumped, regardless of torn clothes and 
scratched wrists. There was the poor deer floundering in 
the brush, and a shot put an end to its misery. All before 
8 o'clock in the morning. 
Amid such scenes as those, what though you were forty 
miles from town? What though the roads were poor, and 
neighbors far away? I suppose, though, that in order to 
properly appreciate such a heaven upon earth it is neces- 
sary that a man should flrst pass a few anxious years amid 
the horrid sights and sounds of pestiferous brick walls. 
Then he can justly sympathize with those men of a former 
century who, after youth spent in European courts and 
castles, were happy to exchange the carpet and chandelier 
for the canoe and camp-fire, and to spend their remaining 
years among the friendly environments of the forest. To 
some men this would be a dreary place if it were all side- 
walks and cultivated farms. A continent is getting pretty 
■crowded when more than half of it is settled. 
_ The house by the lake still stands; and, as of old, the 
"deer come down to drink, secure in the fastnesses of the 
rsecond-growth forest which has sprung up since the devas- 
itation by the lumbermen. Great are the recuperative 
powers of the wilderness, in regions where the soil does 
mot tempt the farmer. 
Where lies the valley in the hills, where nestles the 
house by the lake, I do not propose to tell. Those who 
have been there know, and happy are they. 
Fredeeic Ielank. 
Eastern Shore Notes. 
Ed4toi- Forest and Stream: 
We are having quite a good many snipe, more than for 
any previous season. Dr. J. C. French is among us. and 
meets with fine success in snipe shooting each day that he is 
out, giving as his opinion that ours is as fine country as any 
he has ever visited for this game Further on we may expect 
an increase m the quantity. Accomac and Revels Island 
OiuO men are coming by almost every train, in anticipation, 
no doubt, ot an early arrival of Atlantic coast birds. 
KELLER, Va., April 8. ^* 
A POOR SHOT. 
In his generous acknowledgment of a very trifling favor, 
Mr. Hough has alluded to a little series of mine, relating to 
the history of the American rifle, which recently appeared 
in Shooting and Fishing. My investigations were prompted 
by observing that target shooters nowadays have little 
'faith in the markmanship of the old frontiersmen. I sus- 
pected that this incredulity tVas due to indiscriminate 
novel reading and to yarhs spun by the Sunday news- 
papers, rathet than to accurate kilowledge of historical 
facts. To test the matter I ijiade a study of contemporary 
evidence and reached the following tohcliision: 
"There were liars before Ananias; but there vrefe gentle- 
men, and crack shots. too, long before you and I, goGd 
fellow, cut our teeth." 
Mr. Hough's delightful reminiscences make me think of 
a practical demonstration of this latter fact, with which I 
was recently favored and which impressed rae more than 
any possible array of screeds and scrolls. It happened 
thus: 
My father and mother came to visit us. My father was 
born and bred in the wilderness of western Pennsvlvania, 
and still takes a keen Interest in woodcraft, though his 
occupation has confined him to office work for many 
ye^rs. RnoyVing that he would enjoy a tramp in the 
woods, I took a day off and 5Ve went out to Mincke. 
My squirrel rifle was at the g'uhstoith^s, and the other 
hunting rifles were too powerful for such gaflie as we might 
see, so I took along my target rifle. Father exaltfiifred it 
curiously. He had never seen such a weapon. The wind 
gauge and vernier particularly impressed him. 
"Well, Well," he would say, "what improvements they 
have made since I was a boyl Just look at those sights!, 
I wonder what Uncle George would have said about them!' 
He used to shoot pretty well with the old flintlock; but, 
dear me, our rifles were very crude affairs .in those days. 
Do you like such a short, stubby barrel? You do! Well, 
I guess it's all right with those fine sights. We used to pre- 
fer a 4ft. barrel; but we were away back in the woods and 
didn't know much." 
He kept it up on that strain all the way to Mincke. I 
was sorry for the old gentleman. It made me feel mean 
to be enjoying all these improvements when his youth 
had been so hard and poor. The contrast must be pathetic 
to him. When we reached the vcoods, I thought to cheer 
him Up a bit by remarking: 
"YeS^ the finish of our rifles nowadays may be finer, but 
I suppose the old muzzleloaders would shoot just as 
straight." 
"I don't know — I don't know," he replied sadly. 
"Well, you didn't often miss with them.'' 
"No, not often. But we didn't dare miss; powder was 
too scarce." 
"Lead too, I suppose." 
"Well, not 80 scarce as powder, for we would use it over 
again.-' 
"tise it over asain?" 
' Certainly. When we had enough powder to shoot at a 
mark, which was seldom, Would always put the mark 
on a tree and chop the bullets out. Eveh ih shooting at 
deer, the bullet would generally lodge against the skiil oi 
on a bone, and we would run it over again. No, I guess 
you youngsters can shoot much better than we did, for you 
have plenty of ammunition to waste ih target shooting; and 
then you have such fine sights— I wouldn't even know how 
to use them." 
' Oh, yes, you would. Here, I'll tack this target on a tree 
and we'll try a few shots." 
"No, no; you do the shooting. I can't shoot." 
"Of course you can. Just try. You'll soon get the hang 
of those sights." 
"Why, boy, I haven't fired a rifie since the war. And I 
never was anything of a shot. Zeke and Abe [two of his 
brothers] could beat me any time, and neither of them 
could shoot like father." 
^'Grandfather was a good shot, then?" 
"Yes, pretty good. We had to live on deer and bear 
sometimes. He often shot them right in our little clear- 
ing, and once 1 saw him shoot a very large panther from 
our doorway. Yes, he was a good shot, though his brother 
George was better. George was a great hunter, and quite 
celebrated as a marksman. But I never took much to 
hunting, and was always counted a rather poor shot." 
I wished now that I had said nothing about target 
shooting. It was thoughtless of me to have suggested 
such a thing. He was an old man, and had not fired a 
shot in thirty years. I knew him to be the soul of candor, 
and that he always meant precisely what he said. Of 
course he could not shoot now. Would the result only 
humiliate him by proving his failing sight and nerve? 
"All right, I'll shoot, and you can score for me. It 
wouldn't be fair to have you shoot with a gun you have 
never used." 
"Well, I'll try those sights anyway," he replied, "just to 
find out how they work." 
Here was spirit. He wouldn't back down from a chal- 
lenge — for so he had construed it — even in the face of cer- 
tain defeat. 
The target was up. I fired, and nipped the bull at 10 
o'clock. 
He took the rifle, threw his arm well out, and raised the 
piece, but complained that he could not see. 
"Bring the peep closer to your eye — there, that's the 
way. Now don't flinch when you press the trigger." 
I was rather nervous for him and gave him all sorts of 
good advice. 
"Be careful, father, that is a set trigger." 
"Boy," he replied, somewhat sternly, "I never used any 
other kind." 
Then, for the first time, an uneasy suspicion crept over 
me that perhaps I was imnecessarily solicitous about the 
old gentleman. 
Crack! 
I was watching him closely. Blink? Flinch? Not a 
bit. He hadn't been brought up that way. 
I went to the target. He had a line shot Sin. below the 
bullseye. 
I took my turn and attain got in the black. 
He fired and shot into his first hole. 
"That's funny," he said, "my sight was touching the 
mark." 
He had been holding the aperture as if it were a pin- 
head. I explained that the bullseye should be centered 
in that little hoje, 
Firing again, I missed by lin. 
He shot deep into the black. 
I began to feel uncomfortable. I had plenty of trouble- 
on my hands now, and got down to work. He kept right 
on making bullseyes, talking all the time in his quiet,, 
serious way about "I never was 'counted a good shot— Zeke 
could generally beat me— but father was a good hand with) 
a rifle," and so on. 
At the end of the tenth round I was a point in the leadr 
but he was steadily gaining, and if we had kept the game 
up a little longer I would certainly have been beateii. 
Father had evidently expected to see me shoot better, but 
he was too much of a gentleman to say so. His work 
ataazed me; but he kept on apologizing for it, and 
the worst of the matter was that his humility was per- 
fectly sincere. 
By and try he strolled up the hill, while I sat down on a 
log and had a big thinlk all to' myself 
No, he never was '^counted a good shot— Zeke could beat 
him, so could Abe — his father was better than any of 
them — and Uncle George was a real marksman. "But 
my! what improvements you have made?' 
Horace KEPHARTe, 
ST Lewis. 
DRILLING AN ALLIGATOR. 
There lies between the AtlaOtic and the Indi in Mver ra 
the ptninsula of Florida a beautlfal island, famous for its- 
fruits and flowers and game. It is Merritt's Island. Nature 
$for it is said the Creator did not make that part of Florida) 
seems to Mte been very careful about how it made that island, 
for it Was one of its last tasks. Along the shores of the Indian 
River is an unbroken hammock, elevated, tropic. The plaso 
recedes toward the Banana River ; is composed of savannas 
at regular intervals of one-fourth mile, lying parallel with;, 
the rivers,, the interspaces are elevated beds of low pal- 
metto. Who does not loVe to wander among these grassy 
meadows, flower adorned, hetween their green hedge bor- 
ders? To the north is a perfect prairie; in it, here and there, 
stands the lone, stately palm, it8 trunk bleached white with 
tropic stofms and age. Round ahout, without studied order, 
is the small jungle hummock. Nature had spent her 'pren- 
tice hand upon the rUgged mountains and strands of the 
north, became lazy, romantic and se^thetic when she reached 
the tropic sun; adornrd her farewell effort of love with this 
picture ; framed it in silver with the rivers and commanded 
the winds from the A-tlantic now and then for a change to 
frost these frames with the gentle whitecaps of the tropics. 
But there is a gator in this picture and he must be caught, 
but the ugly saurian hides there in his cave. 
Two hunters from the Virginias are partial to that island 
and were there, as usual, last winter. One warm, dry day 
their hound had long and faithfully been trailing a deer and 
became very tired and thirsty, and these hunters led him 
from the trail to search for water. At a distance a flag pond 
wag seen,- but when examined contained, about the middle, 
only a small pool. "Graeme," said Capert, "here is a gator 
cave and the gator has just gone in. Ride up with Dick and 
let him drink, and Til have my gun ready for the gator if he 
makes at him." 
Dick knew a gator as well as the hunters, but he was so 
thirsty that he crouched and crawled to the brink, and while 
drinking, the gator, without stirring the water, eased his 
head out, When the white about his eyes and end of his nose 
gave him away. He wanted Dick, but came no further, and 
it was decided to leave him and let Steen, the camp-keeper, 
"drill" him. Steen is a cheerful, good-natured native 
Floridian, about 6ft. 4in. high, weighs only about 1401b8., 
and was once a professional gator hunter, in the days when 
they were plenty. He was told about the gator, and pro- 
posed an exhibition of his skill in drilling, to see which he 
was in a few days accompanied by Graeme. 
In the ponds inhabited by the gators the roots of the flags 
and grasses make a thick strong sod, in this instance quite 
2ft. The gator was at home. Before reaching his cave 
Steen cut a green pine sapHng, about 2in. in diameter and 
about 15ft. long. He carefully trimmed all the limbs and 
rough places off and made very sharp-pointed the larger end. 
The gator, in making his cave, had burrowed below the 
roots in the sod, getting under which it then made a hole 
off straight under it. Of course, there was water in the hole; 
it was full and stood in a pool at the mouth. 
Steen rolled up his sleeves, stretched out on the ground 
and thrust his pike in. "I want the bearin' of the cave," 
said he. "This is a long un; my drill won't reach t he eend," 
so he thrust his long arm in with the pole as far as he could 
reach. "Now I've got the bearin', Mr. Graeme, I'll go to 
the other eend and begin to drill ; you stand on this side cf 
the mouth next to me and have your gun ready, and when 
you see his knot [this meant head] his two eyes will look 
kinder white, shoot him right between them ; when I hit the 
cave, you cin tell by the water swellin' out at the mouth. I 
hit him, he's comin'." 
Sure enough, he had struck the hole with the sharp stick 
which he had thrust through the soft earth and sod, and he 
repeated this at short spaces, nearingthe mouth at each lime, 
until finally almost without seeing a motion or the saurian 
he thrust his head out of the cave, still beneath the water, 
and Graeme shot him just as directed. Steen left his drill, 
ran to the mouth of the cave. "You've done him up, "said he, 
and while the water was yet muddy he thrust his hand below 
the under jaw of the gator, pressed his head back against 
the earth and out of the water, then clasped both hands 
around his mouth, and drew out a gator 7ft. long. 
"Well, Steen," said Graeme, "this is the first gator ever I 
shot, though I have seen quite a number; poor sport for a 
hunter; would just as leave shoot a log; only shot it to carry 
out our programme of drilling." 
But it revived memories of the old-time sport in Steen, and 
he ripped his hide off almost as quickly as it had been kifled. 
S. C. Gkaham. 
VlRGWlA. 
New 7ork has always had Game Laws. 
To an inquirer who asked the other day about the length 
of time New York had had game laws, we replied off-hand 
that probably such laws had originated in colonial times and 
had held ever since. Mr. Robert B. Lawrence, Secretary of 
the New York Association for the Protection of Fish and 
Game, tells us: "Without looking up the old session laws I 
cannot tell you when the original game law went into effect. 
Our New York Association for the Protection of Game (not 
the New York State Association) was founded on Monday, 
May 20, 1844, and the first suit brought by the Association 
was against one Daniel Young, of Fulton Market, on June 8, 
1844; so there must hare been a game law that time," 
