Sept. io, 1898.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
207 
are turkeys in there too, so take a few turkey loads 
along, but do not waste time hunting for them. They 
are too wary and too scarce to make it worth while, yet 
you may run across them, so be prepared. When, after 
a half-hour's walk, the tops of the ridges are reached, 
don't tire yourself by traveling across them, but walk 
leisurely as you like along the crest of one till you come 
to where it ends in a cliff 200ft. high, with the Mississippi 
laving its foot. Sit down and enjoy the glorious view 
of the twenty miles of river that are in sight; take in at 
one sweep of the eye a hundred thousand acres of land 
on the opposite side of the river; level as a floor, and 
wonderfully productive. Over there by those three big 
cottonwood trees is where you and your friend had three 
coveys of quail scattered in the weeds yesterday, and 
got nineteen, and would have got more only the shells 
gave out. Half a mile to the right i& the spot where 
the old dog got lost in the big weeds, and you found him 
pointing the biggest covey of quail you ever saw. Walk 
back along the ridge you are on till you reach the 
head of the "draw" that separates it from the next ridge, 
and if you have not got enough squirrels travel out this 
ridge as you did the other one. There are quail here too, 
but don't bother with them, for they fly across the 
ridges and drop out of sight, and it would tire the 
strongest legs very soon to follow them. 
Some other morning take the fishing tackle, a supply 
of crawfish and minnows, for bass and crappie, and have 
your boatman row you up the river two miles to the 
mouth of Apple Creek. Take the gun along, but be sure 
you don't let the dog go, because "Yo' sho hab bad luck 
,ef yo' takes a dog w'en yo' -goes fishin'!" The creek 
is noted for its fine bass and crappie, though I have never 
fished there and cannot guarantee the fishing, but the 
creek is well worth a visit from a scenic point of view, 
and there is a tract of level woods hemmed in by the 
hills, which is a famous place for squirrels, and it is 
I bordered by the creek. 
If you get tired of camp life go across the river and 
I'hunt quail to Wolf Lake Station, some, two and a half 
[miles; and then take the train to Grand Tower, seven 
t miles or so up the river, and feast yourself at the Tre- 
I mont Hotel, where good Mrs. Baronowsky will make 
[you very comfortable for $1.25 a day. 
A more restful region than this would be hard to find. 
For many years the people had no intercourse with 
[the rest of the world except by the river steamers, and 
they have unconsciously adopted the "plenty of time" 
jways of the boats. No need to hurry to-day, because 
[there will be a to-morrow just like to-day. 
The observant student of human nature can get con- 
siderable interest and some hints too about enjoying 
life by studying these people, who he will find stand 
out in sharp contrast to the heartless dollar chasers 
whose lives are spent in the rush and roar of the large 
cities. 
Grand Tower, III, and Neely's Landing, Mo., can be 
reached by steamer from St. Louis. Boats leave St. 
Louis at 5 P. M.; arrive at Grand Tower about 8 next 
morning; Neely's an hour later. Fare $2, including 
supper, berth and breakfast. Grand Tower can be 
reached by rail, and Neely's by boat from there. If 
quail be the only object of the trip there is no need to 
go further than Grand Tower, but if fine scenery and a 
variety of sport are wanted, go to Neely's. There is 
no hotel at Neely's, and it might be necessary to take a 
camping outfit. Henry Rhodes, of Grand Tower, can 
give any needed information. If not otherwise employed 
he would be willing to serve a party of sportsmen in any 
capacity for a reasonable consideration. He is all right. 
O. H. Hampton. 
Reminiscences of an Old 
Sportsman, — XVIII. 
It was the second year of my acquaintance with An- 
dover that I extended my rambles into Marlboro, which 
lies next south of Andover. It was rather late in the 
season for woodcock, and we were searching for grouse. 
Finding some good looking country along a small 
stream, we took a turn of a couple of miles down upon 
one side of the stream and back upon the other, finding 
plenty of birds and fairly good covers. We also found 
a goodly number of covers that had every appearance 
of being capital grounds for woodcock in proper sea- 
son, and we decided to investigate them the next year, 
but somehow it did not come handy, and I never saw 
those covers again until more than thirty years later, 
when, as the guest of my friend, Dr. Corcoran, who 
was a member of the club that leased the grounds, I 
again saw a portion of them. This was only a few years 
ago, and of course I did not expect to find any- 
thing like the number of birds that were there "before 
the war." We had a very pleasant time, however, al- 
though we did not get many birds, but the Doctor and 
I always do have a pleasant time when we go out to- 
gether, birds or no birds. When we had packed up 
and were ready to start for home, the keeper remem- 
bered that he had three partridges that belonged to us, 
and he sent some one into the house to bring them 
out, and I put them in my overcoat pocket. When we 
arrived home I took the birds from my pocket, when 
the appearance of one of them led me to examine them 
all, when I found, greatly to my surprise, that somehow 
things had got mixed, for every one of those birds had 
been snared, there was the fatal purple ring around 
their necks, and not the sign of a shot mark upon 
one of them. If this was a joke, I do not think that 
the Doctor enjoyed it nearly so much as I did, for I 
have managed to get considerable fun out of it,, but I 
could never understand how it was that such a thing 
could happen upon the premises of so well conducted 
a sportsmen's club as this appeared to be. 
East of Marlboro lies the little town of Hebron, fam- 
ous in the good old days for its grouse shooting, but 
the cream of this sport in this vicinity was to be found 
in the adjoining town of Columbia. Many of the cov- 
ers were dense, but the partridges were there in count- 
less numbers. I first saw the country upon my way 
home from a visitr to Andover, whea we sampled a 
few of the covers, finding birds so plentiful that we de- 
termined to take early opportunity \o explore the, re- 
gion more thoroughly than we then had time to do. A 
few days later I was out shooting with Ethan Allin, and 
invited him to go with me to Columbia and try for the 
grouse. I had often tried to get him to go with me 
upon some of my long trips, but his time was usually 
fully taken up by his many friends, and he had been 
unable, to go, but when I told him where I was going he 
at once agreed to accompany me, saying that he had 
once shot over a portion of this country, and had often 
wished to try it again, At the appointed time Ethan 
drove to my home for me, and we were soon on the 
road. I had my pointer bitch Gipsey, and Ethan had 
Tip and Packer's Phil. I had heard considerable about 
the hunting qualities of Phil, but had never seen him 
at work. He was almost as large as a Newfoundland 
and about as unsetterlikc in appearance, bu^t he was a 
great dog nevertheless, as I found out before our trip 
was over. His forte was quail, and among them he was 
a workman from start to finish, finding his bevies in 
capital style, and picking up his scattered birds in a 
manner that I have not often seen equaled. He was 
also very good on woodcock, and could do fairly good 
work on grouse. Old Tip was good all around, while 
little Gipsey could do very satisfactory work on quail 
and woodcock, and was about as good as the best on 
grouse. This made a capital team, and it was lively 
work at times to keep track of th em, for all were fast 
and wide rangers, and much of the cover was rather 
dense, but all of them worked nicely to the gun, and 
when we lost one, the others or at least one of them was 
near enough to help find the missing one. We shot 
two days, and until 1 o'clock the third day. Here is 
the leaf from my notebook that chronicles our per- 
formances. "Oct. 21, Columbia — Ethan, Tip. Phil and 
Gipsey; 3 days; 43 P., 22 W., 59 Q. W. circled around 
Ethan, P. blundered into birch, 43 years old to-day. 
Phil finds yellow jackets, broke down, Howards Valley, 
home 2 A. M." 
What a flood of pleasant recollections crowd upon 
me as I gaze upon these few disjointed notes. I am 
again a boy, my dear old friend is by my side, and I 
can again hear Mis merry jest and see his pleasant 
smile. The lithe forms of the well-remembered dogs are 
gallantly bounding through the dense covert, and as 
each agile form suddenly becomes rigid I again see 
the startled bird in its arrowy flight through the tangled 
tree tops deftly brought back to earth again, and once 
more I am filled with the delight that only comes to 
him who rounds out the perfect work of his dog with 
faultless performance of the part assigned to him. 
We arrived at Columbia shortly after sunset, stop- 
ping with a farmer whose acquaintance I had made 
upon my previous visit. We took an early start in the 
morning, and were walking along the road toward the 
cover we intended working, and had reached the sum- 
mit of a steep hill, when we saw, sitting on the bank 
beside the road, a small hatchet-faced man holding 
fast with both hands a two-gallon jug that was about 
half full of cider. We did not see him until we were 
within 10ft. of him, when he rolled his eyes toward us, 
pulled the jug closer to him, and sententiously re- 
marked: "I'm forty-three years old to-day." There 
was a mellow cadence to the tone in which this was 
uttered, that led us to believe that he had begun the 
celebration of his natal day bright and early, and kept 
it up bravely. We both heartily congratulated him, and 
wished him many happy returns, when with a spas- 
modic jerk he pushed the jug toward us, and very 
cordially invited us to participate in the celebration. 
Ethan took a drink, pronounced it good, and passed 
the jug to me. Now I am rather partial to good cider, 
so I changed my mind and concluded to please the 
man, and put the jug to my mouth, but it was no go, the 
cider I judged to be as old as its owner, and the very 
best that I could do was to make believe drink and 
then smack my lips. How the little man, in the con- 
dition he was in, managed to take a drink, has al- 
ways been a deep mystery to us, but he took one 
nevertheless, and a good one too; then fondly hugging 
the jug in both arms, he slowly and with preternatural 
distinctness ejaculated, "I'm forty-three years old to- 
day." Nodding his head in adieu, he turned, and with 
a firm and even tread walked down the hill, but the 
effort was too severe for his overtaxed frame, he took 
about a dozen steps, then swerving a little to one side, 
he sank upon one knee, gently laid the jug upon its side 
and then completed his fall by flopping over on his 
back and rolling into the gutter, where he lay perfectly 
quiet for about three seconds, when he raised his head 
and saw that blessed jug slowly but surely rolling down 
the hill. The horror of this performance appeared to 
sober him in an instant, for he sprang to his feet as 
quickly as a cat, and, straight as an arrow, with the 
stride of an athlete, sped down the hill after the faster 
and faster revolving jug. But the race is not always to 
the swift, and he had gone but a short distance when 
he took a header that made everything jingle. This 
completely knocked him out. The genii of the jug 
had worked its spell, and he was bound in chains that 
held him fast. When Ethan and I recovered our normal 
condition, we placed the little man in a reclining posi- 
tion on the bank, with the jug, unharmed, beside him 
and resumed our course toward the cover. 
The little cover upon the hillside that we first entered 
was the connecting link between a large tract of wood- 
land that covered the top of the hill and a beautiful 
alder run that led in a zigzag way down to an extensive 
birch cover nearly half a mile below. We found a 
goodly number of birds on the hillside and in the 
alder run, and gathered in our share of them without 
noteworthy incident until we arrived nearly at the low- 
er end of the run, when Gipsey pointed at the edge of the 
cover near me, and I signalled the point to Ethan, who 
was on the opposite side of the run. He at once an- 
swered my signal, w r hen I flushed the grouse, which 
flew directly toward him, so that I dared not shoot. 
When I called "mark" another bird rose wild and went in 
nearly the same direction, which brought it about 20yds. 
in front of Ethan. I could see both birds after they 
topped the alders, but he only saw the second bird, which 
he killed. At the report of the gun the first bird, which 
was nearly over his head, dodged and blundered into 
the top of a birch, and came down at his feet, or rather 
into the open niouth of old Tip, who held it, and Ethan, 
took it and wrung its neck, supposing that I had 
wounded it, and I had hard work to convince him of 
the true state of the case. In fact, he would not be- 
lieve it until I showed him that my gun was loaded, 
when he had to, for I had not had time to load it. 
Ethan was nearly always suspicious that a joke was 
about to be sprung on him wheti anything out of the 
ordinary course occurred, and he had need to have 
his weather eye open, for he was an inveterate practical 
joker, and nothing pleased him better than to spring 
a joke on his friends, and as many of these friends 
were jolly good fellows, and up to snuff, Ethan usually 
purchased about as much wit as he succeeded in dis- 
posing of. I once met him and his friend, Judge Greene, 
of Worcester, near a spring, where we were all going 
to eat our lunch. When we came to the spring the judge 
sat down with his back to a large tree, against which 
we all stood our guns. While our lunch was in pro- 
gress, Ethan kept nagging the judge about something 
that I did not understand; finally, while' Ethan was look- 
ing the other way, I saw the judge furtively glance at 
him, and then, greatly to my surprise, he removed the 
percussion cap from the right hand barrel of Ethan's 
gun, then turning to me he explained that Ethan was 
finding fault with him for missing a woodcock that 
went straight in the air to the top of a birch, and 
then settled almost straight down 2 or 3ft. He then 
told Ethan that the shot" was a very difficult one, and 
taking in his hand the tin can that hung on a branch 
over the spring, he- pointed to the two pieces of cake 
that were to wind up their lunch, and offered to wager 
his piece against the other Allin could not hit the 
can thrown 20ft. straight in the air. This was a 
soft snap for Ethan, and he at once accepted the bet 
and reached for his gun. The judge tossed the can as 
soon as the gun was in his hand and Ethan hastily pulled 
back the hammer and snapped at just the right time, 
then, with a sheepish look, he glanced at his friend, 
who, as sober as a judge, sat there with a piece of cake 
in each hand, from which he was alternately taking a 
bite. After I had become a little accustomed to this 
the judge explained matters by informing me that Ethan 
had once placed him outside a thicket where the dog 
was pointing, and gone in to flush the bird for him, 
but instead of a bird the dog was pointing a box turtle 
which Ethan threw in the air and excitedly ihouted 
"mark, mark," when the judge cut loose at it. Then he 
slyly added that this might have been pie for Ethan, but 
for his part he preferred cake. 
Shadow. 
[to be continued.] 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 
Opening Day, 
Chicago, 111., Sept. 1. — This is opening day. Thou- 
sands of guns w r ill to-day be taken afield in different 
parts of the country. It is not opening day for Illinois, 
for our chicken date is two weeks later, but in Minne- 
sota, South Dakota and Wisconsin Sept. 1 is acknowl- 
edged as the beginning of the fall season. In North 
Dakota they begin shooting grouse Aug. 20, though just 
why that State should open its season more than a 
week earlier than South Dakota is one of the mysteries 
of game laws. For a long time I was of the belief 
that Sept. 15 was the right date for chickens in Illinois, 
and I still think it is early enough for proper sport. 
But the great quantity of human nature must be con- 
sidered while we are making game laws. Also, the 
laws of other States should be considered. I should 
be very glad to see the chicken law of Illinois amended 
to read Sept. 1, provided that we might have a close 
season of a couple of years on chickens, then a sea- 
son opening Sept. 1 and lasting till Oct. 1. With these 
restrictions I believe we should keep our birds for a 
long while yet. The usefulness of concurring game 
dates among these grouped States of the Northwest is 
too apparent to need further comment in these days. 
I note that the opening date of the District of Colum- 
bia is Sept. 1, and folks back there are making a big 
fuss about what they are going to do to the ortolans, 
reed birds, and yellowlegs. 1 see the statement gravely 
made that there is no law on blackbirds in that coun- 
try, so that sport is not denied to the sportsman who 
wishes to go afield, though a 'few ardent ones have 
lately been fined for shooting reed birds ahead of 
season, it appearing that the sooner does not despise 
even so small a mark as that for his operations. Out in 
the West we still have some game bigger than reed 
birds, though we may well hope that some of our early 
shooters will take a backward look at a civilization 
which has to protect reed birds and takes blackbirds 
into account in its shooting possibilities. If our methods 
of soonerism continue in the West, some of us may 
live to see the time when we will protect larks and 
blackbirds, and do it a lot more thoroughly than we 
did our prairie chickens. 
We have still some prairie chickens, and quite a good 
many of them this year in the Northwest. I was out in 
Minnesota last week, and though I did not get to stay 
over for the opening day, I had accurate and reliable 
reports which make me believe that this is really a 
good chicken year in that State, and in the Dakotas also. 
This season the chicken belt is especially good below 
St. Paul, between there and the southern line of the 
State, anywhere from sixty miles south of St. Paul and 
Minneapolis to the State line. Albert Lea, or rather the 
country fifteen to twenty miles west of Albert Lea, is 
very good this year, and I heard of two or three parties 
going in there for to-day's shooting. Dodge Center, 
farther south, is reported good. Many points in south- 
ern Minnesota will show a fair harvest this week. 
Donnelly, is said to be good. Sauk Center is another 
place well mentioned, and at Alexandria there will be 
some birds. Pipestone is reported excellent, and Moun- 
tain Lake is another good tip. Tracy is an old reliable 
and will this year make good its reputation, I am 
told. 
In North Dakota, Pembina is still called good, even 
after the fatal first week. Points thirty miles southwest 
of Fargo are said to be good still. Medina, N. D., is 
a spot on which I was given a quiet tip* All along 
