KoY. e, 1891] 
FOREST AND STREAM„ 
In excuse for this poaching method, it may be said that 
when employed it was the only means of obtaining the 
birds where they were most numerous. T^he relatively 
small numbers bagged by these questionable methods bore 
but a small proportion to the unnumbered thousands all 
over the country which escaped. 
Referring again to their unaccountable habits of changes 
of location, even on their winter habitat, I have observed 
that they make these changes as far South as I have 
studied them, in the neighborhood of Bayou Sara, La. 
I am inclined to believe that their furthest resort South, 
and probably their most important one, is the immense 
marsh country lying about the mouths of the great river, 
and west along the Louisiana coast. I am led to this be- 
lief from having been told by an officer of the U. S. army, 
that he had had fine woodcock shooting while stationed 
at one of the forts above the mouth of the river, at birds 
flying over the post at dusk on the way to their feeding 
grounds. The furthest West I have ever known the bird 
was here at San Antonio, where a solitary specimen was 
killed by a friend in the year 1882. 
The food of the woodcock while at the South, I am led 
to believe, consists almost, if not entirely, of earthworms; 
for in the cotton and sugarcane fields these are very 
abundant, and the presence of the birds can always be 
detected by their innumerable borings for the worms. 
Of the thousands that come South few are killed, their 
habits of feeding at night, and of selecting their quarters 
by day, being a protection to them. Were these conditions 
diflJerent, they would soon be exterminated. 
In my opinion, there is no bird in America which ap- 
proaches it as a delicacy for the table. When we get them 
here, they are full grown and in. their best condition, and 
when properly served, to use the expression of Frank For- 
rester, are truly "a dish fit for the gods." 
San Ahtonio, Tex, A. Y. Walton. 
REMINISCENCES OF AN OLD SPORTS- 
IVIAN .— IV. 
(.Continued from page SU5.) 
In the morning after breakfast, instead of sending his 
man, the Doctor drove around himself. As I took my seat 
beside him he explained that he had made up his mind to 
become a squirrel hunter, and thereupon had decided to 
accompany me home if I would take the dog and give him 
his first lesson. He added, with a sly twinkle in his eye, 
that according to the best light upon" the subject he could 
obtain, he had never been squirrel hunting in his life. I 
was only too glad to agree to this, and we soon had Milo 
and the old gun in the wagon, and in a short time we were 
in the best locality for our game that I knew. 
The day passed all too quickly for me, as I had never 
met so genial and agreeable a companion, and although I 
have since" been afield with many scores of good fellows, I 
have met very few who could equal him in all that goes 
to make up a perfect companion, and his superior I have 
yet to find. This is not the snap judgment of a boy, for 
the Doctor was my companion on many glorious days 
afield each season for more than twenty years, and so long 
as he lived there was never a word nor deed to weaken the 
ties that hound us together. I have ever blessed the dav 
that brought me to know him. 
Although passionately fond of squirrel and rabbit hunt- 
ing, I had devoted much time and ammunition trying to 
become an expert wing-shot, and at the time I made the 
acquaintance of the Doctor I could shoot fairly well, and 
I invited him to come up and have a try at the birds with 
me. Taking Milo we drove to a tract of country that was 
a perfect network of alder runs and birch-covered knolls, 
with ail occasional bit of swampy ground— a favorite 
resort for grouse and quail, as well as woodcock in their 
season. Milo was a first-class squirrel and rabbit dog, and I 
had so trained him that he was a very killing dog among 
the birds. Our method was simple, but effective. I would 
place the dog at the mouth of a run and bid him stay 
there, whUe I would go up the run some 10 to 20 rods, 
and taking my stand in a commanding position I would 
whistle to him, when he would beat up toward me; and 
in this way I often had lots of sport and bagged a goodly 
number of birds. Milo was also so well up in the new 
business that when beating the ground in front of me he 
would stop when he winded birds, and with wagging tail 
wait for me to go round and get a good position, when he 
would come on at the signal and nearly always give me a 
shot. 
Now the Doctor had never even seen a bird shot on the 
wing, but as I had showed him that it was not necessary 
to have a rest when shooting, nor to take a long aim, he 
had so far profited by my instructions the first day we 
were out that he brought down several squirrels as well 
and quickly as I could have done, and at least two of them 
were on the move when he fired, so I had some confidence 
in his ability to bring down a bird, especially as he was 
perfectly cool and collected under fire and appeared to feel 
no concern as to the result. 
Placing Milo at the mouth of a run I bade the Doctor go 
up about ten rods to a knoll while I went up on the oppo- 
site side a short distance above him, and took position 
where I could overlook him and get a shot should he miss. 
When all was ready I signaled Milo, and he soon had a 
grouse in the air, which flew past the Doctor, and I was 
never more pleased at anything of this nature than to see 
the Doctor coolly bring gun to shoulder and kill that bird 
stone dead. Gathering it in and heartily congratulating 
the Doctor, I again set Milo, and moving on up the run we 
took up favorable positions when the Doctor again brought 
down his bird in capital style. From that day, so long as 
he lived, he was ever a cool and most excellent shot. Al- 
though I had greatly the advantage of him in practice, it 
was a year before I was his equal in skill except'in dense 
cover. He was a natural shot, and a very good one from 
the very start, and although 1 have had a large experi- 
ence with beginners, I have met very few who could at all 
compare with him for coolness, natural ability and skill. 
My friend Harrington, the artist, was also a natural 
shot. The first time I was afield with him was many 
yeai-s ago, when both of us were younger. Mr. Ray, one 
of my shooting companions, had for his guest Col. OdeU — 
since well known as a sportsman — and he invited me to 
spend the afternoon with them among the grouse. We 
found the birds not very plentiful for those days, but 
managed to secure several, and I have a distinct recollec- 
tion that Ray was quite jubilant over the fact that his 
ftiend the Colonel had beaten us both; but I never laid up 
anything against him; in fact, I have always enjoyed going 
out with a man who could keep up his end of the stick, 
and have ever considered that the next best thing to 
making a good shot myself is to see some one else do it. 
During our drive home I proposed to take them on the 
morrow to Holland, my favorite stamping ground, and 
promised to show them some sport. We invited Mr. Har- 
rington to make the fourth man. 
The next day, after a thirty miles' drive, before noon 
our team was hitched under the shed, near what was 
known as the "south ground." Ray had nagged me sev- 
eral times about my defeat of the previous daj--, and finally 
proposed that he and the Colonel should shoot against 
Harrington and myself for a wager. Harrington— always 
dead game— refused the match unless they would make it 
a basket instead of a bottle, and the matter was settled on 
this basis. When we came to the cover, which is quite 
an extensive one. Ray and the Colonel took the right- 
hand side, while Harrington and I took the left. We 
had gone but a few steps, when my dog pointed near the 
edge of a dense alder patch. I bade Harrington go 
around to an open space, and as soon as he was in 
position I put up the woodcock, which flew in the right 
direction, and he brought it down in great style. Then 
setting the breech of his gun on the ground, with one hand 
holding the muzzle, he took oflF his hat and farmed his 
face, and as I approached him exclaimed: "That is the 
first bird I ever shot on the wing, but it will not be the 
last one, and I will bet two baskets on it!" Just then we 
heard from the other party, four times in quick succession,, 
and a second or two later we saw a grouse well up in the 
air, coming straight for us at the rate of about four miles a 
minute, more or less. As this was one of my favorite shots, 
I dropped him, when Harrington exclaimed: "That settles 
it, and I am only sorry that we have no more on the 
match." 
Working out the remainder of our share of the ground, I 
placed my companion in a favorable position at every 
point,_and took no shots myself that were going his way, 
and right well did he acquit himself, scoring but four or 
five misses during the whole trip; and to this day he is 
always cool and collected when under fire and is still an 
excellent shot. 
I well remember one incident that greatly impressed 
me as a wonderful exhibition of self-possession under 
rather trying circumstances. We were working along a 
little brook, when the dog pointed a grouse in a small 
thicket just at the edge of a ledge of smooth rock that was 
covered with green moss, the ledge sloping down to the 
brook at about the same pitch as the roof of a house. I 
took position near the dog, while Harrington went round 
and came out at the upper side of the ledge, some 50yds. 
above. As he stepped on to the rock the moss loosened 
beneath his feet, and he started to slide down the ledge 
just as the grouse flushed, when, as coolly as though he 
had been standing on firm ground, he raised his gun, and 
although by this time he was under pretty good headway, 
covered the bird and pulled trigger, and grouse and man 
landed in the little brook almost at the same instant. 
Now, don't imagine that because I have wandered 
from the telling of our match that we were beaten; not a 
bit of it. When we reached home on the third day we 
showed up a total of fifty-six birds, and thirty-four of 
them counted on our side. But I deeply regret to add 
that to this day we are still anxiously looking for that 
basket of Mumm. 
Cases like those of the Doctor and Mr. Harrington are 
extremely rare. Not but that there are many who are 
natural shots, and at inanimate targets can do first class 
work almost from the start; but when the first bird rises 
before them their nerves will not stand the racket and at- 
tendant confusion; and it takes more or less time and 
practice before they can acquit themselves even fairly 
well when among the birds. 
A gentleman came to my home one evening, and told 
me that he had heard so much about me from a mutual 
friend, that he had come all the way from New York on 
purpose to go shooting with me. I gave him a cordial in- 
vitation for the next day. In the morning he came over 
before breakfast, saying that he wished to practice a little. 
Loading his gun — this was in muzzle-loading days — he 
laid it on the ground, and taking a couple of apples, threw 
them in the air in opposite directions; then picking up the 
gim, he hit them both before they reached the ground. 
He also accomplished several other difficult feats, handling 
his gun with an easy grace and quickness that was re- 
markable. After watching him a while, I decided that 
although at this time I was a capital shot, he was my 
equal, if not superior. 
Woodcock were very abundant in those days, and my 
dog was on point almost as soon as we reached the cover, 
when I placed him in a good position, and flushing the 
bu'd for him, was greatly surprised to see him miss a fair 
shot with both barrels. I said nothing, however. Soon- 
we had another point, and again I sent the bird to him, 
but the result was the same. After two or three more 
trials, without ever touching a feather, he owned up that 
he had never shot a bird in his life, and wished me 
to shoot so that he could see how it was done. I was 
greatly surprised to see so good a shot as he had shown 
himself to be unable to bring down his birds, especially as 
I had given him fair shots, and I advised him to leave "the 
hammers down and practice taking aim when we should 
start a bird. This he did, and was greatly pleased with 
the result upon the first trial; then he said that he found 
no trouble in getting on, and thought that he had mas- 
tered the science and could kill the next one. But it was 
of no use, for, although he tried it a number of times, he 
brought down only one bird during the day. I never saw 
him again, but often heard of him through my friend, and 
learned that by considerable practice he finally came out a 
fair shot on some days, but as a rule the birds usually had 
the best of it. The trouble with him was that his nerves 
would not stand the strain, and the noise of the bird and 
the excitement broke him up. 
I have since met a number of persons who were troubled 
in the same manner, and have taken a hand at trying to 
teach a number of them how to do it, but have never suc- 
ceeded in turning out anything above a moderately fair 
shot, and without exception all were unreliable when there 
was an unexpected rise, or a^y thing came up a little out of 
the ordinary run. Shadow. 
Springfield, Mass. 
A DAY'S STALKING IN SCOTLAND. 
PETEft and I left the castle early in the moi-ning of Sept. 
16, and drove over to Ardverkie in the dog-cart. Crearer 
met us at the farm, and when all was in readiness we started 
for the hill. Crearer led the way, usins^ his spyglass every 
now and then, and I rode just behind him on a sturdy little 
hill pony. Behind me came Peter and the gillies with the 
pack-horses. 
Not long after leaving the farm, we sighted game to the 
left of us, but upon examining the herd with the glass, 
found it was made up of hinds, and very young stags who 
had not yet arrived at the dignity of more than four points 
on their antlers. We hastened on, and did not go far 
before Crearer halted and took an observation with his spy- 
glass, and discovered three old stags to the right and in 
front of us. They were some distance off, and lay quietly 
in the heather on the side of a hill overlooking the valley 
we were in. 
The gillies were now told when and where to meet lis 
with the pack-horses, the Winchester was taken out of his 
case, and a few extra .40-7-5's in my pocket, I followed 
Crearer off over the moor. We commenced to walk diagon- 
ally toward the deer, taking advantage of all the small Mils 
and corries to keep out of sight as much as possible. The 
wind was just about as it should be for the stalk, and we 
cautiously tramped along, once or twice flushing a co^ey of 
grouse that flew up with a rush and a whirr that seemed 
enough to startle every deer within half a-mile, to say 
nothmg of the anxious stalker, until we came to a stream 
which came down the mountain and passed close by where 
the stags were lying. The little rivulet had worn a deep 
ditch for itself in the black, peaty loam of the moors, and 
made a splendid trench up which to advance upon our 
game. We were not long in turning it to account. Into 
the stream we went on hands and knees, and as quietly as 
we could we worked !our way along through the ice-cold 
water and slimy loam, until within about eighty yards of 
the stags. We then crawled cautiously from the bed of the 
burn, wormed our way up to a small tussock of heather and 
waited. The deer were still placidly chewing the cud, and 
all we could see of them above the heather was their antlers, 
and now and then a head. We lay there in the purple 
heather and admired the beauty of "the hills, tumbled and 
tossed together like great billows on the sea The morning 
sunshine played among the peaks and corries, and with the 
aid of the soft white clouds made continual changes of light 
and shade among the greens and purples and grays of bog, 
heather, and rock. Suddenly an old cock grouse began to 
crow his warning "gobackl goback! gobackl" and the best 
stag of the tree, a magnificent fellow in beautiful blue coat, 
raised his head, gazed intently down the glen, and before it 
was possible to draw a bead jumped to his feet and trotted 
off around a shoulaer of the hill, followed by his two com- 
panions. It was exasperating, to say the least, but there 
was no time to be wasted, in lamenting, so we quickly 
scrambled back to the valley of the burn and ran along 
parallel to the ridge the deer were on, hoping, as they were 
not very much disturbed, to catch them 
Everything went smoothly until, on peeping over the 
ridge again, we had the pleasure of seeing the old patriarch 
with one of his pals just about to cross the next ridge. I 
was out of breath with the run and my hand was shaking 
like a leaf, so I held my fire, and devoted my attention to 
one of the three beasts that had remained behind. For a 
time this one fed along the ridge and we crawled nearer and 
nearer to him, and tben, just as we were within range he 
lay down in the tall heather, and we could only see hia ears 
and antlers and the top of his back. By this time it was 
pretty well on toward afternoon, and we were beginning tb 
feel rather hungry. I decided to risk a shot at his back, 
and try to get in another as he got up if I missed the first. 
.Just when 1 was going to shoot, however, I found that the 
beast had caught sight of one of our ponies about three 
miles off down in the valley, and after flattening himself 
down in the heather once or twice so that nothing was 
visible but his antlers, he finally got up, and without offer- 
mg me anything but a shot at his rump, crawled into a sort 
of cleft in the hillside. There was only one way to get at 
him now, and that was to crawl and slide down the face of 
the long hill or ridge on which we were and work along 
until nearly opposite the cleft. This I decided to do. 
although the hillside was covered with moss and small 
round pebbles, which, if started, would roll down the hill in 
a small avalanche. By dint of good luck, however, and 
very careful crawling, I finally reached a position behind a 
boulder on the hillside, from where I could see the head and 
neck of the deer, about seventy yards off. I aimed at the 
upper part of his neck, and as I fired he jumped to his feet 
and 1 fired again. There was no need for the second shot, 
however, the .40-75 expansive bullet had done its work, and 
the lurcher was ready to prevent his escape. After a few 
unsteady steps he reeled down the hillside, and fell dead 
almost at my feet. 
The proper thing to do now was to wait for the pack 
ponies, which Crearer had signalled to make their way to 
us. When they arrived we gralloched the stag, had the 
customary dram, "more blood," and, as the gUlies strapped 
the venison to one of the ponies, we ate a sandwich and 
were ready again. 
This time we went higher up, while the pack train went 
back to the valley, and befoi-e long were threading our way 
through a rocky pass in a thick mist. The hoarse challenge 
of a stag rang out on our left just after the mist shut down, 
but it was too thick to see anything but the ears of our 
ponies, and we carefully picked our way along until the 
mist fitted a bit. As soon as it was clear enough, Creartr 
got out the glass and searched the surrounding country, but 
failed to discover anything but a large herd of hinds. We 
were just turning around to retrace our steps when we saw 
a small herd of stags and hinds just rounding a shoulder 
of rock, and we at once started after them. When we 
were pretty near the spot where we had last seen them, the 
mist shut down as thick as ever and we dismounted, left the 
ponies with Peter and went forward on foot. We wer j 
crawling along on our bands and knees when Crearer, wLu 
was in front, suddenly stopped, flattened himself down to 
the ground, and tried to wriggle backward, at the same 
time keeping the lurcher quiet and motioning me to mo ve 
forward. I had not crawled ten yards before, thr-ough a ril't 
in the mist. I saw a herd of four or five splendid stags and a 
few hinds directly in front of me. They all seemed on l . ■ 
alert, and in a glance I singled out the bisrgest in ttie herd, a 
beauty, one with ten points. He dropped as I fired, and I 
took a snap shot at the others as they dashed off down the 
glen, but missed. The one that was down was still strug- 
gling to regain his feet, having been hit rather forward and 
