16 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. I, 1898. 
the grizzly or anything else, is daring less than did his 
grandfather, who, armed with his simple weapons, faced 
like perils. And the latter was braver than was his 
grandfathers who used the bow and arrow, for they 
faced not the great dangers of the chase in the manner 
of the hunter whose arms were of lire. 
But those are none the less related to Sportsmen's 
Row, for the array of shotguns, breechloading, in all 
sizes of bores, beautiful in design and finish, and the 
rifles, in hundreds of varieties, from the tiny .22 up to 
the largest of calibers, are but the latest stage in the ap- 
plication of principles in use by our daddies. And yet, 
while the principles remain much the same, the mechani- 
cal application of them is at present incomparably above 
all of the kind that has preceded. In beauty, scientific 
precision, excellence of material and cheapness, the mod- 
ern firearms are unrivaled and unequaled. 
As I gaze on the colony of sporting goods and gun 
houses on Broadway, I can see that thej' are m the very 
center 'of a circle whose compass is the circtimference of 
the earth. There one could arrange for the arms for 
an army— rifles, swords, bayonets, machine guns, with 
ammunition to match the guns and the needs of a na- 
tion. The equipment large enough to strain a nation's 
treasury, or one for the small boy, which, with abund- 
ance of ammunition costing but a few dollars, can be 
alike readily obtained. 
Men drop in betimes and speak casually of killing- 
bears in the mountains or- forests, or rufifed grouse in the 
dense woods, or quail and rabbits in the fields and 
brush — of sport everywhere throughout the land with 
rifle and shotgun. 
And another class is equally earnest in the sport of the 
rod, and they too drop in and tell of killing tarpon in the 
Southern w"aters, or trout and bass in the streams and 
lakes, and all kinds of game fish in all the known waters 
of the world. And they gaze with interest on tackle 
which is light enough for sport in catching the smallest 
game fish, or large enough to kill the greatest fish with- 
in the powers of man to attempt successfully, and they 
buy of it. 
Men come and go. To the casual observer they merely 
ivalk in and out, and do not differ from other men who 
do likewise as to the hundreds of other stores which line 
Broadway. And yet they are a class distinct in their 
views of life, in their knowledge of nature's secrets, in 
being more or less inured to dangers, hardships and pri- 
vations, and in being skilled in the use of weapons, 
whether in their use as a matter of sport, personal de- 
fense, or in the service of the nation in time of war's 
need. How few who pass through Sportsmen's Row 
realize that its radii are worldwide! 
The Preserve Question. 
I read the contributions of Didymus with much pleas- 
ure. He is a sound writer, but last week he went ofif on 
a tangent and landed where there is no footing — this on 
the preserve question. He deprecates the ownerships and 
growing ownership of game land and water by wealthy 
clubs. Did Didymus stop to consider that A, B and C, 
sportsmen of wealth, have quite as good right to use 
their land for a game preserve as D, E and F., farmers 
and gentlemen, have to use their land for agricultural or 
stock purposes? Further, did he stop to think that unless 
A, B and C had some use for the land they would not 
have bought it? Did he consider the benefit that G, the 
seller, derived from the sale of land that otherwise would 
be unproductive to him? Did he consider that selfishness 
is the basic principle of society and progress? Every 
man who labors, or invents, or trades legitimately, bene- 
fits himself and the community as well. The working of 
the hammer, saw, loom, etc., has a selfish origin, yet 
where would we, who selfishly need their products, be 
without them? And more to the point directly, which 
is the more selfish, he who establishes a preserve under 
all legal and equitable conditions, or he who poaches on 
the preserve or opposes its establishment with the very 
selfish end in view that he may take things of value with- 
out price or responsibility? It is one of the first prin- 
ciples of common sense, as it is of law, that a com- 
plainant should come into court with clean hands. 
The Gtjn and the Night Stick. 
There is a certain weak phase ot human nature, mani- 
fested by a class of individuals, which impels them to 
display any power which they may have at command, 
whether the same be moral or physical. Thus the brand 
new politician must needs assert his authority and lord 
it over any of his unfortunate underlings, if he. happen 
to belong to the class whose egotism has not a proper 
counterbalance of sense. To the same class belongs the 
man who points a gun at his fellow man, that he may 
enjoy to the full his temporary accession to power. To 
the same class belong the policemen who only want 
opportunity to club their prisoners or inoffensive citizens, 
as opportunity offers. The deaths and injuries from the 
malicious or wanton clubbing of prisoners in New York 
have reached such a magnitude that the Board of Pohce 
Commissioners is seriously considering the matter of 
taking away the night sticks of policemen, as was done 
under the administration of Chief Byrnes. And yet it is 
a conspicuous feature of every case that the offender has 
good excuse or was innocent, in manner like to that of 
the man who "thought it was a deer," or who "didn't 
know that it was loaded." The remedy is alike in both 
cases, namely, take away their weapons. Common sense, 
public safety and the general welfare would indicate that 
the man who cannot carry a club without abusing its 
use, and the man who cannot carry a gun without killing 
or maiming his fellow, should not be allowed to go 
armed at all. . , ' 
Dennis A. Janvrin and his Horse. 
Writers, whether of history or current events, search 
in all available nooks to obtain instances of the devotion 
of the lower animals to man. They vie with each other in 
making a marvelous event of a simple matter. Thus the 
world reads one day of the heroic deeds of a dog in 
saving a sleeping family from death by fire, another saves 
a boy or a family from drowning, or leads a rescuing 
party to save the little ones lost in the wilderness. Man's 
aiifection for the lower animals rarely has an inning, 
and yet to his affection many breeds owe their existence. 
There is something of more than passmg pathos in the 
tale of Policeman Janvrin^ df Mew York, and his horse. 
They had labored together ten years, taking good and 
ill together. Janvrin had ridden no other during the 
last ten years of his twenty-two years' service, and he had 
become much attached to him. Last year the horse 
died. Without the friend who responded to the lightest 
touch of his hand so well, whose speed could overtake 
the fleeing lawbreaker, and whose courage and strength 
were ever to be relied on, the service had lost all its 
charm and value to him, so he asked to be retired under 
the twent^'--"ear service act, and he being a good officer, 
it was done, but reluctantly. And now he comes to the. 
Police Board making application for his old office, plead- 
ing that the needs of life press him to ask for reinstate- 
ment in the only calling which seems open to him, and 
it is probable that his application will be favorably passed 
upon. But the horse which is in the spirit land where 
good horses go will gallop on riderless. 
TiTE Man in the Clock Tower. 
Comrmunivntlons for this department are requested. 
Anything oil the hieycle in its rchUionto the sportsman ix 
particularly desiralAe. 
A November Night* 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
With gun and game bag strapped on my bicycle. I 
started at 3:30 P. M., Nov. 18, for Hopkins Creek, fif- 
teen miles north of this city. We had a severe wind and 
rain storm the day before, and I thought that I might 
find a few ducks in the creek. 
A young friend of mine had put up a 10x12 camp on 
the lake shore at the mouth of the creek the past season, 
and had given me a key with instructions to use the 
camp whenever I chose. The camp is about a half 
mile from the main road and is reached by a farm road' 
running through an orchard and strip of woods along 
the lake shore. At the farmhouse I got a small pail of 
milk, and remoimting my wheel with the pail in one 
hand, rode to the woods, which was as far as I could 
ride with one hand. When nearly through the woods 
I took my gun from its case, and putting a few shells 
in my pocket, left my wheel and started out to recon- 
noiter for ducks. It was now S o'clock and nearly dark, 
and they should be coming in if there were any; but 
after a careful search I failed to find them in the creek, 
but with the aid of my glass I could see birds out on 
the lake, which was quite smooth. Returning for my 
wheel, I pushed it to camp, on the opposite of the creek. 
Although the creek is eight to ten rods wide within 50ft. 
of the lake, at present there 1 is no apparent outlet, the 
space between being at least 4ft. higher than the water 
each side of it. This is caused by the low water of the 
lake. A few years ago I had to use a boat to get across 
the outlet. Lake Ontario and the St. Lawrence are said 
to have high and low water once in seven years. 
On reaching the camp, which is about four rods from 
both lake and creek, and from 15 to 20ft. higher, I 
found plenty of large wood on hand, and going down on 
the beach I gathered a basket of drj^, fine floodwood, 
with which to start the fire to prepare my supper of hot 
wieners, boiled eggs and coffee, which with the good 
farm milk appeased my appetite. While leisurely eating 
I noticed that the light from the lamp was waning, and 
I found that the oil was out. I found a glass-inclosed 
oil can, which from the weight I thought was about 
half full, and extinguishing the last gleam of light from 
the lamp I took both outside the camp, in case I should 
over-fill the lamp. As I do not hear, it was all guess- 
work with me, and when I tried to light the lamp I 
found no oil in it or in the can. Well, there I was alone 
in the dark with my supper imfinished. I opened the 
front doors of the stove, but that did not throw much 
light on the subject (supper). With the aid of about a 
dozen matches I finally found a dish of grease, probably 
what had been left of a coon roast a week or two before. 
I also got a strip of cotton cloth, which I immersed in 
the fat, and laying the end over the edge of the dish ap- 
plied a match to it, and I had quite a good light. 
After supper I thought it might be well to lay in 
another basket of the dry wood from the beach, in case 
of change in the weather. On going outside it was so 
dark that I could not see to get down the bank, but 
away to the north across the lake I could see the reflec- 
tion of the light above the city of Toronto. Securing 
my newly made light, I managed to get down to the 
beach and gather the wood. After taking a quiet smoke 
I arranged one of the woven wire beds and turned in for 
the night about 7:30 o'clock. This was the earliest 
"going to bed" I had done for many years, and it was 
not an easy matter to get asleep. I think it must have 
been two hours later before it happened. When next I 
awoke it seemed as if it must be morning, but on striking 
a match and looking at my watch I found it was only 
12:30. I went to the door to see what the weather was; 
the Toronto light had disappeared, also the lake, and I 
could fiot see my hand before my face, but I could feel 
that there was a dense fog. I went back to bed and 
lay awake for another hour or more, when I again 
looked at my watch. It was 5:30. I lay until 6 o'clock, 
when on opening the door I found the grotmd covered 
with snow, which was still falling. And there was I. 
fifteen miles from home with my wheel; but that did 
not worry me much. 
I started the fire, prepared and ate breakfast, and 
then with the glass took a look out on the lake and 
creek for ducks. On the opposite side of the creek I 
saw something moving through the water, but could 
not make out what it was. Getting gun and shells and 
walking up the road a short distance, I came to the 
creek. Just as I stepped out of the woods a duck started 
up, which I winged with the first shot; and as I saw no 
more get up I killed it with the other barrel. T then went 
back to the camp, and getting a boat, paddled up and 
secured my game, which proved to be a white-winged 
scoter. 
While in the wo£)ds I had seen fresh rabljit tracks, and 
after waiting some time without seeing more dttoks I 
started for the rabbit, and had followed the tracks not 
more than ten rods when I started him up, but made a 
clean miss. I had used my first shell of gold dust 
powder, and it was probably too quick for the "old boy;" 
possibly it might have been the rabbit that was too 
quick for him. After following the tracks for a short time 
I got just a glimpse of the game as it went into a brier 
patch. The tracks led me back to where I had first 
started him, under the corner of a rail fence in a brier 
patch. Walking around it, I saw that he had not gone 
out, and going back to the fence I gave it a kick, which 
Started him out and into a hole about sft. away. I 
might have got him out, but thought I would leave hini 
for another time. 
I was now near the camp of Dr. E. N. S. Ringueberg 
and Artist Raphael H. Beck, and I had promised the 
doctor that I would see if the camp was all right. Some 
vandals had broken down the back door, and on going 
inside I found things scattered about the floor. I had 
never been inside tlie camp before; but I knew that the 
owners had not left it in such condition. I reported 
to them on ray return home that afternoon, and they 
went down the next day. They found that the thieves 
had taken two suits of clothes, all the towels and table- 
cloths, knives, forks and spoons and all the canned goods, 
and the looking-glass. The camp where I was staying 
had been broken into a week or two before, probably by 
the same party, and a clock, looking-glass and some 
clothing taken; a reward has been offered lor •tlie arre$t 
and conviction of the parties. 
I returned to camp about 10 o'clock, put it in order, 
strapped gun and game-bag on my wheel, and at 11 
o'clock I was on the lake road headed for home, where 
I arrived in time for dinner. 
This trip Avould have been imoossible with a wheel, 
only that there is a side path from here to Olcott, thir- 
teen miles. I rode over it on Monday afternoon of this 
week and found it nearly- as -gOiod as in the summer. 
J. L. Davison. 
LocKEbJlT, N. Y., Dec. ife. 
The Wheel and the Sportsman. 
Whether the wheel will ever become a recognized 
shooting and fishing adjunct is a question time alone 
can solve. An occasional correspondent in Forest and 
Stream quotes pleasant and successful experiences in 
which his wheel figures as the vehicle used to reach the 
sporting grounds, but in these cases the conditions al- 
ways prove just right, and we fail to hear of the fellow 
who got caught in the rain, punctured a tire or had his 
wheel stolen and had to walk in. Of course shooting 
from a wheel is a physical impossibility, for the haunts 
of game are not along the cinder path or the traveled 
highwaj^; and even were one so lucky as to flush a bird 
along the road, the handle bars require too much atten- 
tion to make it possible to manipulate a gun even with 
one hand. No, I don't think the bicycle will ever be- 
come a popular means of transportation for the shooter. 
With a light rod and basket it is quite possible for the 
fishing wheelman to visit soine favorite stream some miles 
away and enjoy a day's sport that would be impossible 
were he obliged to walk, and expensive if he hired a 
team. We all know of streams winding through pleas- 
ant A'alleys, with a good road following the windings, 
where one might spin from one good pool to another, 
and have a most delightful trip, always presuming that 
it won't rain and that no accident happens to the ma- 
chine or rider. 
But to the sportsman who has given up actual shoot- 
ing the wheel is a pronounced success. He can visit 
the haunts of game, lean his silent steed against a fence 
or convenient stump, steal through the cover, mark the 
flight of grouse or woodcock, watch the nimble squirrel 
in his home tree, fill his soul with sylvan sights and 
sounds, remount his wheel and spin to and beat another 
cover, and having had enough return to his business 
with but little loss of time, and find himself a better, 
healthier man, with no blood on his hands. Yes, the 
wheel is a great thing for that sort of a sportsman, and 
in my opinion is bound to work such reforms in the 
ranks th.at the all-absorbing question of game supply 
will be satisfactorily solved. H. W. D. L. 
Dansville, N. y. 
Bicycle and Partridge. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
The following singular incident, in which the bicycle 
aooears as a factor, was related to me by my friend 
Davis, a gentleman of unquestioned veracity. Early in 
May, Mr. Davis was riding along a lonely road on his 
waj' to a trout stream (for what purpose may be easily 
guessed), when he espied a partridge step from a thicket 
about 50yds. ahead. Evidently the bird's intention was 
to cross the road, but catching sight of the bicycle and 
rider she paused, with upstretched neck, as if puzzled at 
the rapid and noiseless approach of the .strange-looking 
object. When the machine got within a few feet her 
natural shyness reasserted itself, and she started, putter- 
ing with affright, for the opposite cover. But so long had 
she delayed, that by a Httle extra effort on the pedals Mr. 
Davis was able to force the machine almost upon her; 
and following a sudden impulse, as she darted into a brier 
patch fringing the road, he sprang from his wheel into 
the thicket, pulling the weeds and briers in a mat down 
around her and pinning her to the groimd, so that he 
soon had her in his hands. It was a full-grown hen par- 
tridge, in full possession of its strength and faculties, and 
when released, after a few minutes of captivity, took 
wing with all tlie speed and vigor characteristic of its 
species. 
This is a new "bicycle record." Templar, 
Cornish, Me. 
The FoKEST AND Stream is put to press each week on 
Tuesday. Oorrespondence intended for puhlieation 
should reach us at the latest hy Monday, ayid as much 
earUer as practicnhle. 
