442 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 4, i8g8. 
Hunting in Baffin Land, 
The Forest and Stream has already given the ac- 
count of that exasperating caribou hunt of mine in the 
heart of Nugsuak Peninsula, on the west coast of Green- 
land, in 1896. The direct effect of that experience was 
to whet my appetite for an ultimate successful hunt, 
and I was handsomely repaid for all my effort last fall 
at the head of Frobisher Bay, Bailn Land, just under 
the Arctic Circle. 
We (my party of six and eleven Eskimos) had come 
up the bay 200 miles from the whaling station, in Avhale- 
boats, stopping occasionally for a day to hunt inland, but 
for the most part were disappointed about the game. 
Two or three small docs were shot, by the Eskimos, 
I believe, but the herds which the natives had talked so 
much about had disappeared. As we came through 
Bear's Sound not a pan of ice was to be seen — hence no 
walrus. This was another setback, and although eider 
ducks swarmed in thousands in among the islands we 
pressed oh to the head of the bay, where we were as- 
sured the "tookto" (caribou) would be found in numbers. 
We reached the head of the bay in ten days, taking 
advantage of tides and winds, rowing on calm days, 
which were extremeb^ few. and against contrary winds; 
rushing through groups of islands where the tide was 
setting in all directions and seals were continually com- 
ing to the surface to be met bj'^ a volley or shots from 
the boats as we sped along. Our larder was kept 
stocked with a variety of fresh food, ducks, venison, 
hares, ptarmigans and sea trout. 
The tenth day found the expedition camped near the 
mouth of a large river, named by Hall (the only white 
man before us to reach the head of the bay) the River 
Jordan. We pitched the big wall tent and small circular 
tent in a friendly way alongside of a family of Eskimos 
who were found residing here for the summer, living as 
usual in squalor and grease. Their canoes, or kayaks, 
were down by the river, bottom side up, and resting 
pn piles of stones. Two whaleboats. covered on the 
bottoms with "ookjuk," or big seal skin, rested beside 
them. A few dogs in a state of half starvation prowled 
among the skin tents, watching an opportunity to eat 
up their master's boots, hung out to dry. 
A constant roar from the north came from the falls 
of the river, which dropped here 15 or 20ft. In these 
the seal trout were swarming, large speckled fish, run- 
ning from 5 to lolbs. in weight. We found the natives 
spearing them when we arrived. But to return to the 
caribou: After two or three days' desultory hunting 
Shaw and I started off one morning early with our guns 
and our pockets full of hard tack. We crossed the river 
below the falls, getting the Eskimos to ferry us across 
on the backs of their kayaks, and took a course up the 
river valley, or rather among the foothills skirting the 
valley to the north. Let the reader bear in mind that 
there is absolutely no timber in Baflin Land, the only 
bush there being the Arctic willow, which confines 
itself to trailing along on the groiind. The character 
of the country is barren, with some grass near the 
streams and a patch of winter snow here and there 
against the northern slopes. Glacial drift is scattered 
over the valleys, with occasional boulders strewn over 
the hills; the rock is gneiss. 
At six we stopped on the first ridge; we were work- 
ing away from the valley, and scanned through the tele- 
scope the country ahead of us. This is the way reindeer 
are hunted in Arctic regions. Every Avell-to-do native 
is not without a spy-glass of some sort. 
There was nothing in sight. The only sound was the 
strong wind cutting by our faces. We kept on down into 
one vallej'-, up the next slope, scanning the new sections 
at the ridge, and so on mile after mile. I was ponder- 
ing over my usual bad luck with this sport as we started 
to ascend one of the everlasting ribs of rock, when my 
Companion, who was looking ahead, stopped and fell 
on his knees. I followed his example. As I did so 
he pointed in front of us, down a valley. A large male, 
barren-ground caribou was leisurely cropping the rein- 
deer moss, slowljr raising his heavy antlers, now in the 
velvet, and moving toward us. 
I_ tried to compose myself. Many times hunting in 
Maine for moose, and in Greenland, I had imagined just 
such a scene as this, and thought how easy a thing it 
would be to raise a gtm to my shoulder, take a long, 
Steady aim and put a bullet through the heart, lungs or 
head of the big animal. But now I felt entirely differ- 
ent. There was a lump in my throat, but it was not 
there from the thought of shedding blood. Every hunter 
has known some time or other what that feeling is. 
We retreated down the hill and skirted it to the north, 
crawling up another slope in the direction of the game. 
The wind fortunately w^as in our favor. At last I reached 
the top, pulling up among a semi-circle stones as big as 
bushel baskets, of which I shall speak again later. There 
I gained enough courage to raise my head and look down 
the hill. The lump came into my throat again, for there 
was the big bull scarcely 70yds. away, looking, I thought, 
squarely at me. I turned over and lay down on my 
back. He seemed to my excited brain bigger than the 
biggest ox I had ever seen. 
"You shoot first," said Shaw to me in a low voice, 
"and I will be ready in case you don't hit." 
I turned over and looked again through the boulders. 
He was now a little nearer if anything, perfectly con- 
tented, munching the moss and slowly, very slowly, moA"-- 
ing his head, as though his horns weighed, hea^dly upon 
him. 
Resting my Winchester conveniently on the rock in 
front of me, I sighted long and carefully. I aimed at 
his heart, and as he raised his head and was square on 
I fired. The beast dropped in his tracks, while I sat 
on the ground _ blinking my eyes at the sight, while 
Shaw was dancing a can-can around the boulders, his 
only comment meanwhile being: "Bully shot, old man! 
bully shot!" And so it was. There was only one hole 
that we could find where the bullet had pierced the 
slq;pi.j It was back of the neck and just below the burrs 
of the horns — ^some distance, you will note, from the 
heart— but this time I had been lucky. 
We skinned and cut up the animal after taking the 
principal measurements. His shoulder was Soin, from 
the ground, the antlers 42in. from burr to tip, with 22 
points. He was fat, but his skin was not quite prime. 
The "tudnoo," as the natives call the fat, lay sin. tliick 
on his back. 
It was then only g o'clock in the morning, but hunt- 
ing further that day was wisely given up. As it was, after 
skinning and packing the head, skin and the two hams, 
or i5olbs., besides the guns, it was evening before we 
did the ten or twelve miles between us and camp. 
One mile from the river we left our burden on a con- 
spicuous boulder, and reaching camp sent the native 
boys after it. The next day they found the carcass and 
brought it to their tents, consuming every vestige of it, 
even to the contents of the stomach, which they con- 
sider an especial luxury. 
In talking with my head Eskimo about the sirbt T had 
made I asked him to explain how there came to be 
but one bullet hole in the skin. I had firmly believed 
that the bullet had actually gone through the caribou's 
mouth and out at the back of his neck. He laughed at 
this, however, and showed me where the hair had been 
torn away just in front of the hole. This explained mat- 
ters. As I had fired the animal was lowering his head 
to the ground, and the bullet entering the back of the 
neck had lodged somewhere in his body. 
The circle of stones from which I had taken my "pot 
shot" was, he said, placed there a long, long time ago 
when tlie "Innuits" (Eskimos) hunted the caribou with 
bows and arrows. They were built in the valleys or on 
slight elevations in the valleys. In these the hunters 
would take their stand. Others would round up the 
game and drive it up the valley. The caribou kept to 
the low land and passed within easy range of the men 
in ambush behind the boulders. I saw many of these 
circles in the trip through the bay, and near some of 
them vvere holes formed by piling up rockSj into which 
the natives cached their meat. 
Two days later the return journey was begun down 
the west coast of the bay along the savage, rock-ribbed 
coast of Meta Incognita. Caribou were more plentiful 
here, and one of my party had the good luck to run 
across a polar bear three miles inland up the bed of a 
small stream. Many wolves were seen on this coast. 
After A'isiting the Boas glacier we headed across 
the bay and reached the station over familiar ground. 
The good ship Hope was awaiting our arrival (we were 
two days late), and the next morning found my party 
all on board and bound for Sydney, C. B., the railroads 
and home. Russell W. Porter. 
The Pearl River Country, 
Comparatively few Northern sportsmen know any- 
thing about the splendid fishing and hunting which 
exists in the southern parts of Mississippi and Louisiana. 
The last was my third season spent in exploring, hunt- 
ing and fishing along the line of the Louisville & Nash- 
ville Railroad, which penetrates a region which is all 
divided into rivers, bayou.s, and bodies of water extend- 
ing far inland, from the Gulf of Mexico. 
The district lying adjacent to Pearl River (which 
empties into Mississippi Sound, and is the dividing line 
between Louisiana and Mississippi) is about as ifine a 
winter hunting and fishing ground as I have ever dis- 
covered. Thirty miles from New Orleans. La., is Lake 
Catherine, which is from two to five miles wide, and 
eight miles long. The waters of this lake seem to be 
directly connected with those of the Gulf of Mexico by 
several long arms called "passes," which have tides every 
twelve hours. These "passes" are wide and deep enough 
to float an ocean steamer, and contain an immense 
variety of fish, among them being the tarpon, or "silver 
king," sheepshead, red fish, mackerel, sardines, flounder, 
bass, green trout, ocean trout, king fish and over a dozen 
other varieties. 
A number of bayous flow into lakes Catherine and 
Borgne, and in the winter these bayous are alive with 
bass. I took fifty-six of these bass in one day, using for 
bait a small fish called perch by the natives, but which 
proved to be our little Northern sunfish. 
On the 7th of January T was rowing across Lake 
Catherine at 6 A. M., headed for Bayou Bazhan, famous 
for its black bass fishing. It was a very beautiful morn- 
ing, warm enough for me to dispense with a coat. The 
sky was just glorious, with fleecy clouds extending from 
north to south, lit up and beautifully colored by the 
rays of the rising sun. At the mouth of the bayou I 
met another angler Avho, like myself, was charmed with 
weather and scenery. To the eastward the clouds seemed 
like rose-tinted feathers, while over southwest the for- 
est lined shore of the lake loomed up faintly throtigh 
the morning mist, growing gradually smaller and dim- 
mer, until the fine shadowy lines faded into the gray light 
of dawning day. Rowing up the bayou about a mile. T 
let the boat drift down stream, as the tide was running 
out, and hooking a small sunfish through the lips, I cast 
the lure 30ft. up stream, allowing it to drift gently down 
toward the boat. Fishing in Southern bayous, for bass, 
is very different from casting for bass in our Northern 
lakes and rivers. Southern anglers, at least in Louisiana, 
use a float attached to line about 4ft. from the bait, 
and it is certainly a novel way to fish for bass, as it 
thrills one to see the float disappear from view, which it 
does in a hurry when a hungry bass strikes the bait. 
The morning in question was just right for bass, and 
I commenced to enjoy good sport from the moment 
I made my first cast until my bait gave out. After 
lunch I used "cut bait," removing the skm from dead 
sunfish, and cutting the fish in strips, which resembled 
a minnow. The bass ran from i to slbs.. and proved to 
be o-ood fighters. The water in all of these bayous ts 
salty and the fish are finely flavored. I noticed that the 
bass'alwavs bit best when the tide was running out. I 
fished in Bayou Bazhan six days, and my total catch was 
180 bass the largest one weighing slbs., although I hook- 
ed several larger ones, that escaped through the hook 
breaking. . . t, 
The tarpon sometimes appear m great numbers m 
Lake Catherine. Two years ago a number of fishermen 
were hauling a seine in this lake, and they caught a 
school of tarpon, and in a few minutes the net was 
ruined. When I told the men that a lady had hooked, 
played and killed a tarpon which weighed loolbs., I 
quickly established a reputation as a good fish liar. 
Lake_ Catherine has many bayous flowing into it, all 
containing bass, flounder and whitecat, and I caught one 
fish that no one could name, it being shaped Hke a 
trout, having a forked tail, wide head, and a row of 
yellow spots extending from the head to the middle on 
both sides of the body. This fish fought long and 
savagely, and leaped out of the boat before being un- 
hooked, after upsetting the bait pail and playing havoc 
generally. 
I have just received a letter from a friend who is 
fishing for bass in the bayous emptying into Lake 
Borgne, and he writes me that he averaged 100 bass 
a day for five days. But the Pearl River country 
beats any place we have yet discovered for really grand 
hunting and fishing. Up the river, a few miles above 
the mouth, the waters of the river ate clear and full 
of large bass, while the woods lining the shores are 
full of deer, bear, turkey, squirrel, coon and rabbit. 
Honey Island, in Pearl River, is heavily wooded, and 
fairly alive with game. 
A most interesting race of white people live in this 
Pearl River country; they have no churches, yet every 
one is thoroughly honest; no door is ever locked, and the 
latchstring is out to every stranger that happens to 
wander into the community. The people do very little 
farming, seemingly existing by hunting and fishing, yet 
every one looked fat and perfectly happy. In my next 
letter I will write more about these odd people, and hope 
to present some pictures taken from life in this re- 
gion. 
The duck shooting is great. Mallard, pintail, red- 
heads and canvasbacks are the only kind we deign to 
pull a bead on. Edward G. Taylor. 
Reminiscences of an Old 
Sportsman*— XIIL 
{Continued /ro}li page 4iJ5.) 
When exploring for new grouruds I went to work sys- 
tematically, and carefully worked out all the covers in 
the section of country that I was investigating, whether 
they looked promising or not, for I often found capital 
shooting in places that did not have the appearance of 
being suited to the requirements of game of any de 
scription, and so often did this occur that I was forced 
to the conclusion that in reahty I knew but little of the 
laws that govern the actions of birds, and that the thor- 
ough knowledge of all these matters that I had taken 
no little pride in was lamentably deficient, in this respect 
at least; but I was ever quick to learn in matters of 
this nature, and I soon found that birds are very like 
human bipeds in some respects, particularly in their 
love for the home of their youth, and that the laws that 
are said to govern them when selecting their haunts can- 
not be depended upon when put to the test of practical 
experience, for water and food supply have very little 
influence with grouse or wdodcock, as well as many 
other birds, when selecting their place of abode. It 
is true th,at the birds must eat and have water, and when 
hungry or thirsty they will resort to the places where 
these essentials can be found, but that is far from prov- 
ing that the books are correct in stating that these 
places are always their regular haunts, for I have cer- 
tainly found it to be all wrong in numberless instances. 
Not that there are not many birds that have their homes 
where water and food abound and they may nearly 
always be found in the vicinity, but this proves nothing 
only that it is their home, for there are many other birds 
that make their homes in places where not a drop of 
water or any food can be found, and they also may 
nearly always be found in their chosen haunts. I have 
known hundreds of such instances, and m many ot 
these places I have repeatedly shot every bird in the 
cover, only to find upon my next visit to the spot that it 
was aeain" as abundantly stocked as before. As I have 
already said, love of the place where they were bred 
undoubtedly often influences their choice when selecting 
their home, but there is something else that leads them 
to such resorts as I have described, but what it is 1 
do not know, although I have puzzled my brains over 
the matter many times. , . , 
I was once shooting with a friend, and we were cross- 
ing from one cover to another through a tract from 
which the wood had been cut the previous winter, and 
the sprouts had grown some 3 or 4ft. in height. 
As we came to a little knoll I remarked to my compan- 
ion that I had killed many grouse here, and that it was 
a sure thing to find one or more here every time 1 
visited the spot. I had scarcely finished speaking when 
the dog came to a point, and as we advanced a grouse 
rose and my friend killed it. A week later I was m the 
vicinity, and out of curiosity I went to the knoll and 
found another and killed it. A fe^y days after this T 
met a friend, who told me that on the previous day he 
had also found one there. Now this place had been a 
noted place for grouse before the wood had been cut, but 
what should induce them to visit it when it was almost 
bare of cover and with no other cover within neady a, 
half mile of it I cannot tell, for the place was without, 
water, and so far as I could see there was absolutely: 
nothing in the way of food to attract them. How they 
were able to find the place is also a profound mystery, 
or so many birds were killed there that there was no 
possibility that one-fourth of them could have been bred 
fn1he vicinity. A friend who sometimes "drops into 
poetry'^ or he at least takes plenty of poetic icense 
when the spell comes on, accounts for this mysterious 
doming of the birds to such places.by stating that they 
oossesi the power of communicating with each other 
the same as mortals do, and that directions to the va- 
riou places of resort, such as I have described, are 
handed down from generation to generation m the same 
manner tto our own traditions --/-.tr-.^-;*,^^^^^', 
the art of writing was known, and that it was as easy 
o? a bird to find the place described by its parents or 
?fends as \t would be for a countryman to find the 
AstSr House when proper direction was given him. 
dthough he were a thousand miles distant. I of course 
