FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. ig, 1S98. 
An Idyl of the Marsh. 
Far as the vision extends the widespread march stretches outward, 
Level, without any break, and dotted thickly with tule. 
Sometimes, so quiet and calm, a peaceful scene it is truly: 
Cattle are grazing about, all eating succulent rushes; 
Wildfowl now cleaving the air on swiftly vibrating pinions, 
Now, with their sturdy wings set, they quickly drop to the water 
Shining below them in ponds, where lush the smart-weed is grow- 
ing. 
Navight to be heard save the call a flock of geese in the distance 
Give, as they wheel through the air, in slowly narrowing circles. 
Then, wheti the "wild t^pfest howls, and strident Boreas blusters, 
Scurrying clouds overhead, and sending cattle to shelter, 
Over the noise of the storm the flute-like call of the widgeon 
Causes a thrill of delight, and warms the heart of the gunner 
Who, in his blind by the pond, is snug and warily hidden, 
Chafing his hands to keep warm (the sun has newly but risen). 
Otit-On the water close by, as though but quietly feeding. 
Floats there the flock of decoys, all painted, hollow, unheeding; 
Though they bring death to tlieir kind, who, trust the fine old drake 
leading. 
Swing in too close to the blind. Alas! for drake and his fellow. 
Sharp cracks the nitro; and then, with paddles frantic'ly fanning. 
There, on their backs, lie the drakes, with green heads limp on the 
water. 
Happy th> fowler is then, and softly smooths out the feathers; 
Watching, alert all the while, lest, haply, others are passing. 
X.one there he' is with his dog, a brave brown spaniel so faithful. 
Stanch, and a true little friend, who love's the voice of his master. 
Note now the hoot of the owl; the distant whistle of widgeon; 
Raucous the voice of the crane; the trump of swan passing over. 
Hoarse is the voice of the fowl; their gabble loud and unceasing; 
JSerie the voice of the marsh, j'et dear to every fowler. 
Culpepper. 
Los Angeles, Cal. 
How the Doctor Shot his Deer. 
"Isn't that a beauty!" exclaimed the Doctor, as he 
pulled the expensive new repeater from its case and laid 
it across his knee. "I bought this lor the express pur- 
pose of killing a deer this trip. I've been coming up to 
this country every fall for three years, and while you 
fellows invariably get your mutton, the only real good 
shot I've had, the darned old rifle you loaned me to shoot 
with wouldn't work. Just give me a glimpse of a deer, 
and if it's a fair show, Paul, the gun's yours if I don't get 
my meat." 
Paul Tebo, the half-blooa Chippewa Indian to whom 
this was principally addressed, had been cook and guide 
for our regular fall outing party for several years, and his 
eyes sparkled as he handled the costly firearm. "You 
see, you get chance this time sure! Deer plenty this fall; 
you want more give me gun if you get deer than if you 
don't," he replied, as he laced up lii's cruiser boots pre- 
paratory to starting out on the day's hunt. As Paul had 
said, the deer were plenty, but the Doctor's luck was 
against him, as usual, for the deer seldom took the run- 
way he was stationed on, and although he caught occa- 
sional glimpses of their white flags flitting over the clear- 
ings or through the woods, they disappeared before he 
could get a shot, fie heard his companions' rifles speak 
many times, often followed by an exultant shout, but not 
once did that new rifle come into use. The last day of 
our stav was at hand. Seven deer had been killed by the 
party, and the Doctor swore a good, round oath that he 
would never, never come to Wisconsin on a hunting trip 
again. „ -d 1 
"You want deer bad, I get you one sure, said Paul. 
"How in thunder can I when we break camp at day- 
break!" roared the man of pills. "Here you've put me 
on the best runways and given me every possible chance. 
I tell you I'm hoodooed. A deer won't come withm a 
thousand rods of me, no use talking; I'll shoot porcu- 
pines after this, even if 1 know a deer is commg toward 
me." . , , , T 
"Never mind; come with me after supper, and 1 
show you." said Paul, as he placed a partridge stew 
on the table. Accordingly, about 7 o'clock, with our 
heavy coats, as it grew dark early this time of the year 
and the nights were cold, the Doctor, Tebo and myself 
set off through the woods back of the camp. We were 
rather mystified, as Tebo carried no headlight and was 
very noncommittal—a habit of his when his mmd was Set 
on a fixed purpose. . 
Across a deep ravine, through an old chopping and 
over a small hill, we followed the trail with only the 
dim outlines of Tebo to guide us along— the Doctor, 
with his 22olbs. avoirdupois, stumbling heavily every few 
rods, as he would catch his feet in the tangled under- 
brush, grunting and occasionally muttering his regrets 
at having started on such an unheard of expedition. At 
last, panting with the brisk pace set by the guide, we 
arrived at a small clearing of about one acre, tiere our 
suspense as to the modus operandi of getting the Doctor 
a deer was ended. Strong cleats nailed for a ladder on a 
large pine were to be seen, and enabled us with mighty 
hauling and boosting to get the Doctor to a small plat- 
form built on three projecting branches about 20ft. from 
the ground. The Doctor rubbed his barked shins and 
carefully tested the platform before daring to squat down 
between Tebo and myself, and rest his broad back against 
the main trunk of the tree. 
A short distance in the clearing from our station an 
old log, bored with many holes, was soon revealed to us 
by the moon, which now was rising in silent splendor 
over the black foliage, and lit up the near surroundings 
with its mellow light. 
The black earth around the log was disturbed, showing 
the deer lick was well patronized, and that the salt from 
the log having been exhausted, the deer had torn up the 
dirt with their sharp feet to get at that which had been 
washed by the rain? into the ground. Our silent vigil 
began. An occasional whisper passed between tis, but 
that was all. 
Afar off a whippoorwill unceasingly called its mate. 
An hour passed — it seemed like five — my limbs were 
stiff — when, hark! the snap of a twig is heard, an animal 
makes its presence known. The Doctor reaches for the 
rifle, Tebo whispers something to him, and pulling back 
the trigger before he cocks the piece, so it will give forth 
no warning sound, hands it to the Doctor, Again the 
snap of a twig is heard, and this time near at hand. Al- 
though familiar with most kinds of hunting, this waiting 
in suspense so long after dark in the stillness of the 
forest has such an effect upon me that every pulsation 
of my heart, it seems, must alarm the approaching, un- 
suspecting deer. A low, guttural word is heard from 
Tebo, as what in the moonlight appears a bear, but in 
reality is a large porcupine, ambles across the clearing. 
The Doctor gives vent to a heavy sigh as he lowers the 
hammer of his rifle, and we settle ourselves for another 
long period of waiting. 
I count the whippoorwill's repetition, to pass away the 
time. The last of my fingers is ready to register the 
hundredth tally making a thousand, when, again — hark! 
Was it a twig broken, or only my imagination? Tebo 
shifts the rifle to a handy position,, and I knew it was 
animal life. The Doctor's chance must come soon, as 
the tall pines on the west of the clearing are commencing 
to throw their shadows toward the center, and soon the 
lick will be in darkness. Patience has its reward, and 
amply was I repaid for keeping such a cramped position 
for hours, by the sight that soon met my eyes. Some- 
thing was moving in the undergrowth to the east, for it 
swayed a trifle as into the clearing and bright moonlight 
stepped a magnificent buck. Nature's bravest liar, the 
moon, may have been responsible for part of the decep- 
tion, for I would have sworn it was an elk. Broad, 
spreading antlers, head erect and ears pushed forward 
he hesitated a moment and gave a whistle that was 
startling in the deathlike stillness. Had he scented us? 
Evidently not, or his craving for salt overcame any mis- 
givings he may have had, for he worked his way toward 
the lick, halting every few steps and looking back for— 
yes, more. A sleek doe and half-grown fawn were tim- 
idly following. A family complete! The doe, with her 
dainty steps, and a caress of her offspring, showing her 
heart to be as tender as her haunch. Magnificent scenery 
and works of art sink into insignificance as I recall 
so vividly to my mind the scene as it appeared to me 
then. With wide-open eyes and mouth I had gazed, 
hardly daring to breathe, and utterly forgetful of my 
companions. The movement of Tebo, as he again noise- 
lessly cocked the rifle and handed it to the Doctor, re- 
called me to my surroundings. I realized that mine was 
a passive part, and a quick feeling of gratitude filled me, 
that I was not expected to send a messenger of death 
into that noble family now ranged before the lick, side 
by side. Every smallest detail was apparent to me. The 
utter absence of fear in the deer, the gleam of triumph 
or anticipation in Tebo's face, the tremor of the Doctor s 
hand as he raised to his shoulder the new rifle that was 
now to fulfill its mission! His muscles were contracted 
and his arm now steady, when, slowly drawing the rifle 
back over his shoulder until the hammer was close to 
his eye, with a superhuman effort he cast it from him 
toward the deer and shouted at the top of his voice, 
"Bang!" 
The rifle belongs to the Chippewa. 
Augustus D. Curtis. 
Just About a Boy.— IIL 
"Say, want to go 'n' git some wile honey?" said the 
boy one day in the fall, as he rode up to the barn door. 
"Know where they's a dandy tree juss full of honey. 
Found it up river yesterday when I was tinkerin' round 
there with the boat. Lots of squirrels up there too, n 
we can have a reg'lar picnic if we start early. I'll go 
home and hitch up, 'n' you get ready, will yeh?'' 
"Yes, I guess I can fix it," I answered. 'You get 
your things together and be back in an hour, and I will 
be ready." ,.. , • j 1 ■ 
"A.11 right," he said, and was away like the wind on ms 
black pony, a little beast that seemed to enjoy the boy's 
company as well as I did, by the way. , . , , 
In an hour he drove up to the gate, and a drive of eight 
miles brought us to the creek a half mile west of the river 
and opposite the point we wished to reach on the main 
Here we stopped, and began to get ready for our walk. 
I was busy putting together what we wanted, and did not 
notice the boy for a few minutes, during which time he 
had unhitched the pony and dragged the pony up by the 
fence out of the way of passing teams. Then the pony 
was stripped and a halter with a picket line attached put 
on him and the other end anchored to the fence, so he 
could feed without reaching the road. 
Then I saw a queer proceeding. The boy took the 
buggy cushion, whip, harness and everything movable 
out of the buggy and piled them in a heap. Next he 
took his big belt knife and went to a thick patch of 
sumac bushes that grew about waist high on the other 
side of the road. Carefully he cut away these bushes 
in spots, cutting the stems close to the ground and piling 
the bushes carefully at one side. When he had several 
little clearings made in the thicket, he brought the 
harness and other things over and deposited them, a 
few in each place that he had cleared. 
I stood silently watching him, and he turned and 
''^"^Got to hide this truck," he remarked. "If I didn't, 
somebody 'd steal it while we^wuz gone; so I juss fix 
it so they never know it's here." 
While he said this he was dropping the bushes back 
where they had stood before, each one upright as it had 
grown, and looking as though it had never been dis- 
turbed! Where they showed an inclination to lop over, 
he stuck one or two into the ground and let them sup- 
port the others. , ^ . , , ct 
"Come on," he said, when he had finished. JLess get 
some squirrels." I glanced back at the little thicket now 
growing as it had been before, apparently, and I could 
not but admire the young mind that had figured out so 
easily that no one would ever think of looking tinder a 
growing thicket for plunder. 
His protection and reliance were in nature, and he 
knew nature's features so well that he counterfeited nat- 
uralness, and knew the human animals who might pass 
that way would never know the difference, that his cut-off 
bushes would not wilt before we got back, and that he 
woidd find his property just as safe as though under 
lock and key. 
We climbed the fence and wandered among a growth 
of oak and "pig nut" trees until a squirrel scurried up 
a big oak, and then something else happened. 
I had always circled a tree when two were hunting 
squirrels in company, but the boy said: "Hoi' on, I'll 
show vou how I get 'em when I'm alone." 
He picked up a piece of a broken limb and walked to 
within 30 or 40ft. of the tree, then cocked his shotgun 
and held it in his left hand. With the other he hurled 
the stick as far as he could on the opposite side of the 
tree, and before it struck the ground he had his gun at 
his shoulder waiting for the squirrel. 
When the limb struck the dead leaves it made a racket 
on the ground, and the squirrel swung around the trunk 
on our side.. Instantly there was a flash, and down he 
came, dead as a mackerel.* 
"Yeh see, the squirrel gets scared at the noise 'n' pops 
around the tree, watchin' back, 'n' never stops to think 
about th' man 'at he saw comin' when he run up there," 
said the boy as he gathered up his kill and put up its 
head through a loop of string on his belt. "They ain't 
got a lick o' sense, anyhow," he continued. "Now you 
see that bunch o' leaves over 'n that little oak with the 
grapevine in? Well, that's a summer's nest, 'n' most likely 
we'll find a squirrel there. He ain't got sense enough 
to run when he hears the gun. Less go 'n' get him." 
We went to the tree indicated, and the boy said: "Now 
you get ready 'n' I'll get him up." 
I stood back, and the boy walked to the' vine, jerked 
it sharply two or three times, and, sure enough, out 
popped a squirrel, which fell to my gun. 
We wandered through the woods until late in the af- 
ternoon, killing several squirrels and some quail, but I 
saw no sign of bees or a bee tree, so I finally asked 
him where his bees were. 
"O, 'crost the river. We won't bother 'em till dark, 
'cause we don't want to kill 'em, and they'd sting us 
plenty in daylight," he answered. "I'll show you how 
I work the trick when it gets dark, so less go back to 
the wagon 'n' get the things 'n' a bite to eat. Won't 
take long to get the honey when the time comes, 'n' we 
got to take the axe 'n' pails when we go, 'n' we'll leave 
our game at the wagon." 
When darkness came we got the honey — but that is 
another story for another day. El Comancho. 
Newfoundland. 
Man hath no power in all this glorious work: 
The hand that built the firmament hath heaved 
And smoothed these verdant swells, and sown their slopes 
With herbage, planted them with island groves. 
And hedged them round with forests. Fitting floor 
For the magnificent temple of the sky — 
With flowers whose glory and whose multitude 
Rivals the constellations! —W..C. Bryant. 
Some ot the great dailies of the American continent 
have lately got into the habit of referring to our island 
as the "sportsman's paradise." This is a very appropri- 
ate title, as nowhere is there greater sport to be had for 
either rod or rifle, and for many years to come it will be 
the favorite resort of those sportsmen who are fast learn- 
ing of our advantages in this respect. 
Here we have a large island (the tenth largest on the 
■globe), about 42,000 square miles in extent, and from the 
nature of its soil and climate affording lood and cover 
for numberless herds of caribou and other large game, 
not to talk of the countless flocks of birds, both in- 
digenous and migratory, including ptarmigan or wood 
partridge, plover, curlew, snipe, wild geese, black duck, 
and an endless variety of sea birds. 
If it be considered that it is only very recently that 
the interior of the island has been opened up, and that 
our small population has lived along the waterline since 
the settlement of_ the country — over 300 years ago — 
and that up to very lately there was not a single village 
five miles from the salt water, the reason that our game 
has gone on increasing and multiplying will be very ap- 
parent. The great bulk of our people by the very nature 
of their occupation were debarred frbm taking an}' part 
in the pleasures of the chase, and further the man who 
had killed a hundred or two quintals of codfish and 
caught many of them by hand, or who had "trod the 
bloody pans" and fought dog-hoods and old harp seals, 
with an occasional polar bear, lost his relish for the 
smaller and milder game that the sportsmen effect. 
Hence it is that up to very recently generations of cari- 
bou, reindeer and other game lived within a few miles of 
man's habitation, fulfilled the laws of their existence 
and passed awaj' without ever having seen a human 
being. 
But all this has of late been changed. The last few 
years we have seen in St. Johns— the chief town of the 
island — choice venison selling for a few cents per pound. 
It has been so plentiful at times during late years that 
it could not be disposed of at any price, till it was un- 
fit for human food and was then thrown over the 
wharves. A celebrated case happened a year or two ago 
when a man up the west coast of the island was prose- 
cuted by the authorities for selling venison to the French 
for bait for the carrying on of the codfishery. Fortu- 
nately this indiscriminate slaughter took place near the 
sea coast and not in the interior of the island, and it 
only took place at the season when the herds were on 
their annual migrations north or south, so tliat it is safe 
to assume that while the immense deer parks in the in- 
terior have as yet remained undisturbed, on the 
whole the great bulk of the caribou and reindeer have 
come to no harm. Now that the railway runs through 
the interior and opens up miles of country till now in- 
accessible, the Legislature has enacted the necessary 
