Jan. I, 189S.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
9 
Quail on the Elkhorn. 
It was a glorious day in October, with nature dressed 
in her richest and ripest colors. November's chill had 
not yet touched the air, it did not know whether to rain 
or not, the sun was just shining through a sort of bridal 
veil of mist, and all nature seemed to be just waiting 
and resting, when my genial friend Charley Snider, of 
Oakdale, and I, behind his big iron-gray, started for the 
Elkhorn bottoms. Muggins, a well-trained Irish setter, 
was snugly ensconced in the rear of the buggy. 
The big iron-gray took us at a lively rate for a few 
miles, when, as we neared the river, the ground became 
more broken and was covered with low plum bushes 
and small, scrubby oak trees, interspersed here and 
there with tall prairie grass and weeds. We had not 
uncased our guns and were within a hundred yards of 
the river, when our conversation was cut short and 
hopes aroused by that peculiar whirring sound of Bob 
White when he has company and becomes alarmed for 
their safety; and there to the right, not 30yds. away from 
us, were at least three dozen little brown beauties, some 
of them running like madcaps for the thickets and others 
standing still in open-eyed wonder and utteriiig their 
"chic, chic, choo." It is needless to say we stopped. We 
hitched to the fence and got Muggins out of the buggy 
and set him to work. The birds got up quickly and at 
long range, among the scrub, and we only got one; but 
they flew only a short distance, and we marked them 
down the best we could and followed. We were passing 
through a space a little more open that the rest, when 
Muggins pointed beautifully, a strong bird got up be- 
tween us and flew high against the wind; there was one 
report, but the bird went off unhurt. In the act of reload- 
ing we discovered we had both fired at the same instant 
at the bird and both had missed it. 
The birds crossed the Elkhorn and we found an old 
scow and tried to follow, but could not launch our boat 
and had to give it up. 
We again took to the buggj' and soon found other 
coveys, as they were quite numerous, but the gound was 
very dry and the dog seemed unable to trail except very 
fresh scent. We drove over to an old deserted house, 
where we heard them calling, and killed three almost in 
the dooryard as they got up from under a big cotton- 
wood. 
The cover for ttiis class of game birds is excellent in 
the Elkhorn bottoms, and we must have sighted 150 
birds, but owing to the dense undergrowth and the 
necessity for quick shooting — and, I might say, bad 
shooting — we only got about a dozen. But then we had 
an excellent four hours' sport, and as we drove home in 
the dusk of gathering twilight we could hear the familiar 
call from a dozen little throats in as many thickets, "Bob, 
Bob White." Edward M. Ames. 
Peoria, 111. 
Montreal Club Dinner, 
From the Motitreal Witness^ Dec. 22, 1897. 
Thirty-nine years ago, when this Province was teem- 
ing with game, a few sportsmen, evidently far-seeing, 
formed themselves into a club for the protection of this 
game, and of the fish, determined that as far as lay in 
their power to prevent it no one should meddle with 
either out of season, thus guarding against extermination. 
The club has since worked ahead in a humble way, de- 
pending entirely, until recently, upon its membership 
fees, its whole history being one of wonderful work for 
limited means. Four years ago a turning point was 
reached, the Hon. Mr. Flynn becoming so impressed 
with the amount of work the club was doing that he gave 
them a subsidy of $200, which was doubled the following 
year. The Hon. Mr. Nantel increased the subsidy to 
$800, and as much or more was expected from the pres- 
ent Minister of Crown Lands. 
The annual dinner of the Fish and Game Protection 
Club was held last evening, at the St. Lawi"ence Hall. 
The dinner was an excellent one, and well served. Those 
who gathered round the board were Dr. J. T. Finnic, 
president of the club; Messrs. L. Z. Joncas, Colin Camp- 
bell, Dr. Charles McEachran, Dr. C. W. Wilson, Dr. W. 
H. Drummond, Mr. Duncan Robertson, Dr. D. D. 
McTaggart, J. P. Roche, Dr. H. M. Robertson, Messrs. 
Harry K. Martin, Henry W. Atwater, Albert D. Nelson, 
J. B. Tressider, George E. Drummond, J. Stevenson 
Brown, J. S. Ibbotson, W. L. Maltby, Major W. C. 
Trotter, Messrs. James Cochrane, W. J. Cleghorn, Albert 
Laberge, W. E. Bradshaw, George Van Gilder, T. A. 
Emmans, W. O. Doods, Ansell Leo, Thomas C. Brain- 
erd, Major George Horne, one of the founders of the 
club; Mr. F. M. Alley and others. 
Dr. Finnic gave the toast of "Fish and Game Inter- 
ests," and explained the objects of the club. Dr. Brain- 
erd, in responding, spoke of how the settlement of 
Canada ana the whole of America was due largely to 
these interests. He related how the club were striving 
to enforce existing laws themselves. They had fallen 
on better times lately in securing the sympathy and 
co-operation of the Government. Their work was well 
worth the appreciation of the Ministry, and besides the 
yearly income of $25,000 already derived from fish and 
game, and that might be increased twenty times, there 
was the large gain to the people in food and pleasure. 
The present membership of the club was about 200; they 
had no debts, and they had $600 in the bank, so that 
their prospects were never brighter. 
The Hon. Mr. Joncas responded to the toast of "Our 
Guests." He declared that the work of the Fish and 
Game Protection Club was worth more than the work 
of all the 150 or 160 game wardens in the Province. Mr. 
Parent was disposed to do well by them, and while as 
the latter' s representative he could not promise any- 
thing, he would say that if it rested in his power the 
subsidy would not be $800, but much more than that._ 
Mr. Joncas said that three-fourths of the suggestions 
made by the club would be adopted in the new law. For 
one thing, no company would be allowed to express 
moose, caribou or deer from one province to another 
that did not bear the license or tax tag. This should 
stop the wholesale slaughter. It was suggested to pre- 
vent the hunting of woodcock by stopping its sale. Then 
dealers who had fish or game in their possession would 
be obliged to offer proof hereafter that such was not 
caught out of season. They wanted not to interfere with 
the trade, but with the poachers. The present Minister 
of Crown Lands was well disposed, Mr. Joncas said in 
conclusion, to stand by the club, for the latter could 
do for $5 what cost the Government $50. He didn't 
want to touch on politics, but it was notorious that 
where a man caught poaching was represented in Parlia- - 
ment by a Liberal, he not only could get his fines re- 
mitted, but sometimes his costs paid as well. 
"The Ladies" and "The Press" were also toasted. 
It is unnecessary to say that with the talent present 
there was also an enjoyable programme. Among those 
who contributed were Dr. Robertson, Dr. McEachran, 
Dr. C. Wilson, who rendered some of Dr. Drummond's 
prettiest things, and Dr. Drummond himself, who gave 
a poem composed for the occasion, the opening verses 
of which are as follows: 
"O, ma 6le canoe; w'at's matter wit' you, an' w'y was you be so 
slow? 
Don't I work hard enough on de paddlcj an' still you don't seem 
to go. 
No win' at all on de fronte sidcj an' current she don't be strong, 
Den w'y are you lak kzy feller, too sleepy for move along? 
"I 'member de tarn w'en you jump de sam' as deer wit' de wolf 
behind. 
An' brochet on de top of de water, you scare heem mos' off hees 
min'. 
But fish don't care for you jugt npW at all, only jus' mebbe wink 
de eye. 
For be ktiow it's easy igit ottt-de way w'cn you was a-passin' by. 
"An' who's yOur horse, loo, but your ole canoe, an' w'en you feel 
cole aud wet. 
Who was your house, w'en 'im upside down an' onder de roof you 
get? 
Wit' rain runnin' down ma back, Bapteme, till I'm gettin' de 
rheumateez. 
An' I never say not'ing at all, moj tneme, but let you do jus' you 
please. 
"O, dat's lonesome ti'ng hear de gray owl sing up on de beeg pine 
tree. 
An' many long night she k'ep me wake till sun on de "est" I see. 
An' den you come down on de morning for start on some more 
voyage. 
An' only t'ing deccn' you do all day is carry me on portage." 
Boston Sportsmen in Maine. 
Boston, Dec. 27. — Last week was a dull one for the 
Maine big game hunters, and the season is likely to close 
with less of game killed than is usually the case. There 
has been a lack of fresh snow, while the little on the 
ground has been covered with a noisy crust. This condi- 
tion has sent several Boston hunters home empty- 
handed. No moose have been landed from Maine for 
more than a week, though Dr. Fleber Bishop is back 
from the Provinces with a handsome one. He is still the 
champion moose hunter of the country. Only a few deer 
have come to hand of late, and no caribou. Mr. H. S. 
Fisher, with his hunting partner, F. Wight, came out of 
the Maine woods a week or two ago with two deer apiece. 
They went to Matawaumkeag station, on the Bangor & 
Aroostook Railroad, and thence twelve miles by team to 
South Moluncus, where they were taken in charge by A. 
S. Knight, a settler at that point. The hunters are greatly 
pleased with the treatment they received at Uncle An- 
drew's. Deer they found to be remarkably plenty. They 
could easily have got more than their legal quota had 
they desired to do so. They found Uncle Andrew to be a 
genuine son of the region, who met them at the station 
with his team. When nearing his premises the hunters 
were struck with the appearance of a handsoine girl of 17, 
hauling wood with a fine pair of horses. They called 
Uncle Andrew's attention to it. "Yes," he said, "she's 
my daughter, and as good as gold; helps me a great 
deal." The hunters found that the young lady is noted 
for handling a team of horses, as well as for good sense 
and kindness to her father. Doubtless she can shoot, 
and has taken her legal share of big game this fall. 
Florida hunting and fishing parties are the order of 
the day among sportsmen who can afford it, and have 
exhausted the season in Maine. Still there are a few par- 
ties yet in the Maine camps. Allerton Lodge, Moose- 
lucniaguntic Lake, has been inhabited for a couple of 
weeks with a party headed bv Dr. H. H. Haskell, of 
Newton. Billy Soule's Cupsuptic Camps have also been 
full of hunters. His tame deer — the pet of all the guests 
this summer — has escaped. It was allowed full freedom, 
and did not seem to care to take to the woods, but sud- 
denly'disappeared. It had a blue ribbon about its neck, 
and it is hoped that no hiuiter has destroyed or will de- 
stroy it. The tame deer that Capt. F. C. Barker has had 
at Beniis this season has been taken up to Rangeley, the 
property of the captain's little daughter. Special. 
Match Safe and Landingf Net. 
Wilmington, Del. — Editor Forest and Stream: We 
don't all have opportunity to hunt New York for a 
waterproof match-box, as Dr. F. M. Bauer says he did 
(Forest and Stream, Dec. 4). If he loses his, or some 
other gunner wants one, he can do as I did two years 
ago, and again last night. Take a Winchester 12-gauge 
brass shell. Explode the cap, dig out the paper from an 
U. M. C. smokeless, same gauge. Put the two together 
and you have a metal box that will carry twenty-five 
"searchlight" matches — no patent. 
Here in Wilmington we can buy a repair kit for 
bicycle tires, in a brass nickel-plated case, that is about 
the same size as the shell, for 5 cents. These cases 
make good match-safes. 
A landing net is troublesome to carry from home to 
camp. I take the ordinary net in my pocket, cut a maple 
or birch fork, warm the branches, turn them together 
and tie, cord the net onto the frame, and when through 
with it cut the cord, pitt" the net in my pocket and 
hang the stick up for the next man. T. 
The FORKST AND STREAM is put to press each weelt on 
Tuesday. Correspondence intended for puhlication 
should reach us at the latest hy Monday, and as much 
earlier as practicahl^. 
THE MAN IN THE CLOCK TOWER. 
Not for a long tirrte have 
I seen anything that pleased 
me so much as that letter of 
Lew Wilmot's in Forest 
AND Stream the other day, 
tellitig about his visit to 
town. He lives in the coun- 
try, you will remember, and 
to him, as to most country 
people, it was a real vaca- 
tion to get into town, for 
with all of us, wherever we 
may live, it is the change of 
scene, surroundings, people 
and ways that makes the 
real recreation and restful- 
ness of a vacation. It is the 
novelty that diverts the 
mind. For me, when I do 
get away for a hunting 
trip, the good of it be- 
gins the minute I get 
on the car and the tel- 
egraph poles flash past 
the windows. "Why 
do you go shooting?" 
folks have asked me. 
Why did Lew Wilmot go to town? The answer is all 
in one word, and that one word is "change." 
And was that not delicious when Wilmot wanted the 
trolley cars to go slower, so that he might read the 
signs? None of the other passengers appeared to care 
about the signs. They were blase on signs. They proba- 
bly knew them all by heart. The hundreds of thousands 
of people who rush through the great canyon of Broad- 
way which the Tower overlooks are for all the world like 
the people Mr. WUmot encountered in the trolley cars. 
Ever}^ mother's son of them is in a tremendous, elbowing 
hurry to get there; and the signs by the way are the last 
things in the world they give any attention to. But 
would not it be better for most of us of we went a little 
slower, and took more time to see things? It must be 
forty years or more that I read Bunyan's "Pilgrim's 
Progress" (and to tell the truth I never read it through, 
although in those days Bunyan was more of a staple 
than now), and about the only thing I remember vividly 
is the story of the Man witli the Muck-rake. There was 
a picture of him, with back bent over and eyes fixed 
on the ground, busily engaged plying the rake in the 
mud. When we come to think about it, you and I know 
many a man with a muck-rake, who is everlastingly at 
it; while somewhere the wind is whispering through the 
pines and an old grouse is booming on the hillside. 
Adam and his Musket. 
I was interested the other day in some notes by Mr. 
John B. Champlin, on anachronisms in art, where painters 
had ascribed to certain periods ways and things unknown 
at such times in the world's history, and he cited as one 
of these discrepancies an old picture of Adam in the 
Garden of Eden shooting ducks with a musket. This 
excited my curiosity, and I wrote to Mr. Champlin to 
tell me where the print could be found. He politely 
informs me that he cannot recall the work in which it is 
contained, but liis impression is that it is an old Dutch 
Bible. Perhaps this is one of the things we hear about, 
but never see. Can any one of my readers, who may be 
specially versed in old Dutch Bibles, put me on the 
track of the Adam with a musket? 
Sportsmen's Row. 
Looking downward two blocks south on Broadway, 
I can see the colony of great houses which deals in 
sportsmen's goods, whose names are household words 
in the countries which have houses, and whose products 
are familiar to the grasp of civilized and savage man 
throughout the world. 
' Before the large plate windows groups form, melt 
away or increase, as the ceaseless current of humanity, 
with its swirls and counter drifts, flows through the 
greatest channel of the greatest American city. There 
is something fascinating in the array of modern firearms 
in the great windows which the male beholders cannot 
resist gazing upon, or going within and owning such as 
they fancy if their purses warrant it. 
But firearms are not all, for there is every appliance 
for physical culture and recreation — bicycles, outdoor 
games, and the appurtenances of all sports by land or 
water. Appropriate costumes for all are offered. 
The niodern guns, with their prepared ammunition 
and rapid action, are in sharp contrast to the clumsy 
weapons of our forefathers, or rather of our grand- 
fathers, at least those of such of us as are grandfathers 
ourselves. And methinks there were brave men in those 
days as there are brave men now, but somehow the dis- 
cipline necessary in making a trained brave man must 
then have been much more severe, else they never could 
have done such execution with the old flintlock guns in 
the struggles against the fierce animals of the wilderness 
and the fiercer savages. It was no trifling matter to 
hold the old flintlock rifle steadily in the calm pastime of 
shooting at a mark, much less then was it easy to man- 
ipulate it in time of danger. There were a series of com- 
plexities between the pulling of the trigger and the flight 
of the bullet. The man took aim, pulled the trigger, and 
the hammer bearing the carefully shaped flint took a 
majestic sweep, struck the steel, uncovered the priming- 
pan, sparks flew, the powder in the pan flashed, igniting 
the powder in the barrel, and then the bullet began its 
flight. To stand with a single-barreled flintlock, facing 
a grizzly bear or a hostile Indian, and holding the rifle 
aimed steadily till all the ignition chain of events fol- 
lowed in due order, from the pulling of the trigger to 
the flight of the bullet, required a fortitude, patience, 
confidence and bravery that in the use of the modern 
arm is not required, even if it could be found to exist 
generally. 
Armed with a rifle instantaneously responsive to his 
wishes and with capability of sending shot after shot 
with accuracy and quickness, the modern hunter, facing 
