288 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. 8, 1808. 
were all prompt to accept our invitation to stop, except 
that old chap that queered me at the last. How he did 
manage to slide through those two loads of shot that I 
sent exactly where he was, to the best of my eyesight, 
is more than I can tell." 
That was rather a hard thing to explain, but as it was 
not my miss, I felt rather glad that we had not cleared 
up the entire covey in our five minutes' shooting, even 
though it was a small one. Lewis Hopkins. 
A Queer Deer Find* 
Hudson, Columbia County, N. Y., Sept. 24 — Editor 
Forest and Stream: For years I have hunted this coun- 
ty, and when tramping over the hills have thought 
many times of when the last wild deer was shot. Since 
the State established a preserve over in the Catskills for 
deer, several have been seen swimming the river between 
here and Catskill, and two winters ago one was run 
across the river by hounds on the ice, and was seen 
after that in the town of Livingston, but I have never 
been able to find out what became of it; I think it was 
shot. 
Last Thursday Mr. M. O'Day and John Kittle, who 
are farmers living about five miles, northeast from here, 
were walking through a piece of woods on the high- 
way, when they saw something jump across the road. 
They looked at each other in astonishment; it was 
not a horse, cow, calf, goat, dog; what was it? They 
walked carefully up and there it stood, a deer sure. At 
first they could not believe their own eyes; but O'Day 
ran to the house for a gun, while the other watched, and 
when he returned fired one shot, striking the deer in the 
side and breaking the right foreleg close up to the 
shoulder. They cut its throat and sat down to talk the 
matter over. Up to this time neither had thought of 
the legality of the killing; it was only to kill. "I say, 
John, do you know I think we are in it?" "In what?" 
"Violated the game law." "The deuce we have. What 
are we going to do about it?" After quietly thinking it 
over, John said : "We will put this in a wagon, cover it up 
with a blanket and drive to Stottville and see Fred Stott. 
He has one of those little books,, 'Game Laws in Brief,' 
and he will tell us what to 'do." They drove over to the 
village, called on Fred and told him they thought they 
were in a scrape, for they had shot a deer. "Shot a 
deer! Well, I guess not," he said. Then he questioned 
them about the shooting, went out to the wagon and 
saw the deer and bought it of them. He went in the 
office, took down the "Game Laws in Brief" and told 
them it was all right, there was no law forbidding the 
shooting of deer in Columbia county. Now that they 
were not liable to arrest they were happy, and were 
mighty hunters, but they had sold the venison and they 
declare they will send for a copy of the game laws at 
once. Now their names can go on record as killing the 
last deer in Columbia county. 
Here was a two-year-old doe five miles back from 
the river, and many miles away from the Catskill pre- 
serve. How did she get here? It appears hardly pos- 
sible that she could travel through a thickly-settled 
country and swim the river without being seen. Or 
could she have come from Mr. Whitney's game park over 
near Lenox? She was in good condition, and the coat 
was fine. Some weeks ago I wrote you of the "Bass 
Pocket." This doe was shot within two miles of the 
same place; some of you readers may begin to think 
that in Columbia county wonders will never end. 
Oct. 2. — Since writing you of the shooting of the doe 
in Stockport, I hear from a gentleman living near 
Linlithgo that he saw a buck swim across the river 
about the same time the doe was shot. I have seen the 
man myself to get particulars. H. 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST, 
The Saturday Night Train. 
Chicago, 111., Sept. 30. — I believe that I had occasion 
to mention some years ago an odd bit of sporting life 
that came under my notice at the City of New Orleans. 
I was taking the Saturday night train that runs south 
along the Mississippi River from that city, a train whose 
passengers make one of the oddest collections of sport- 
ing travelers apt to be found in America. Most of 
these men were Creoles or Frenchmen, and the like of 
their equipment it would be difficult to find anywhere 
else on earth. Their guns were muzzle-loaders, 6ft. in 
length, and they carried net game bags, such as we see 
in pictures made fifty years ago, In these game bags 
were stuffed loaves of bread and bottles of wine and 
such other supplies as seemed necessary. A noisier or 
a merrier crowd one never saw, or one with greater bon- 
hommie. All these men were bound for a Sunday holi- 
day out of doors. They dropped off here and there in 
the darkness, and I presume lay out in the open air 
until daybreak of the following day. By midnight the 
train was nearly deserted. 
At the time I wrote of this unique New Orleans sport- 
ing train, it did not occur to me that I should ever see 
its light again. Yet right here in Chicago I have found 
its counterpart, if not in oddity, at least in foreign 
flavor. My work sometimes keeps me down town very 
late on Saturday night, and on last Saturday it was 
past midnight when I took the Illinois Central for home. 
There was a wait of half an hour or so at the depot, and 
I had ample time to see others of the belated company 
gathered at the depot. I presume there were two or 
three dozen men and boys waiting for the train, each of 
whom was prepared for a shooting trip, after a fashion 
of his own. Such a weird lot of guns I never saw in my 
life, unless it was on my New Orleans hunting train. 
The way in which these guns were carried made a study 
in itself. Some dragged the gun along by the muzzle, 
others carried it by the trigger guard, and yet again 
others let it project at right angles from some incon- 
ceivable position under the arm. It was easy to see that 
these were embryonic American citizens, just oA'er 
from a country where they were not allowed to carry 
arms and exulting in their new-found rights. Such 
grotesque unfamiliarity with firearms one never would 
notice in an American-born, even a boy of tenderest 
years. 
These folk were of all sorts and conditions, some 
short, some tall, some dark and some fair. I think they 
were mostly Poles and Bohemians. They wore for the 
most part dark clothes, and those little round, black 
hats which foreigners buy in some unknown market. 
There was but one pair of rubber boots among the lot 
of them, and I saw but two hunting coats. One man, 
evidently longer in this country, and looked up to 
as an oracle in sportsmanship by his admiring brethren, 
posed before the multitude in a new canvas coat. His 
friends came up to him, walked about him, looked at 
him, and besought him for a word of recognition, but 
he stood in the dignity of conscious greatness, calmly 
smoking a large, black pipe. He was proud, and no 
wonder he was proud, for quite beside the new coat, un- 
der his arm there was- a brand new gun, with hammers, 
it is true, but none the less a breech-loader — the only 
one in the entire aggregation. I presume this gun 
would have cost $6 or $8 at the least calculation. This 
Beau Brummel of sport I pictured to myself as one of 
the successful nimrods among the mud hens and black 
birds of the lakes and marshes south of Chicago. I 
could imagine him speaking with authority, when it 
should please him to open his lips, upon the subjects 
of loads, or even the dread theme of nitro powder. I 
could see him coming home, and casting upon the 
floor of his abode, not one, but more than one, cotton- 
tail rabbit, from which he turned with a scorn of the 
mighty hunter who thinks nothing of coming in with 
game. 
I examined closely the outfit of these Saturday night 
sportsmen, and found it to consist much after the fashion 
of that owned by my New Orleans Sunday hunters. A 
short, black bottle was circulating freely among the 
crowd, and the pockets of all bulged with bundles or 
bottles of miscellaneous sort. One man had a dazzling 
shell belt, which he ostentatiously displayed, with a dozen 
shells stuck into the loops. This was the hero with the 
breech-loader. I imagine the others had their ammuni- 
tion in their pockets, here and there. 
At last the train pulled in, and the car in which I sat 
rapidly filled up with its motly passengers. There was 
hardly a man who did not carry a gun. One huge, 
swarthy fellow came in bearing a i2lb. ten gauge in a 
canvas sack. This he slammed down carelessly against 
the iron steam pipes, serene in the consciousness that 
the gun could take care of itself. He also had a large 
and heavy jag, and immediately upon his leaning back 
began to snore in a voice of authority. Nearly every- 
body was more or less drunk, excepting myself, and 
they all seemed very sleepy. They poked and shoved 
each other around and quarreled noisily over the seats, 
and stumbled over the many baskets and bundles. I 
could not understand their language. I tried one big 
fellow in English, French and German, but the best I 
could get out of him was a reply which sounded like an 
active buzz saw into which one has pushed a large and 
coarse steel file. From a chance word here and there I 
inferred that these men were going down to the countr} r 
along the marshes in northern Indiana. They would 
probably drop off at Blue Island and such points along 
the southern edge of the chy\ sleep under haystacks 
until morning, and then work off across country, shoot- 
ing robins, blackbirds, larks or anything else to which 
their marksmanship would prove equal. Barring this 
license of habit in selecting their game, one would 
find it difficult to make any restrictions upon these peo- 
ple. The3 r were about to break the Sabbath, it is true, 
but perhaps to their minds this meant no wrong. The 
main thing to them, and one could see the joy of it in 
their countenances, rough and stolid as they were, was 
the prospect of a day out of doors, a day spent in what 
to them meant freedom. They were, let us say, sports- 
men as much as any of us, for I do not doubt that they 
enjoyed their outing as much as we do ours, perhaps 
more so, and that they spent on it pronortionately as 
much money, in accordance with their revenues, as any 
of us do in our sporting trips. It needed no second 
glance to assure one that they were going to have a 
good time. Indeed, they had already had a good time. 
In front of me sat a large and aggressive German lady 
who had been imbibing rather too freely for her own 
welfare. This lady had evidently taken a grudge against 
another lady who sat opposite her, a slender damsel who, 
with another, was monopolizing the attentions of a very 
blonde, very drunk and very silly young man who had 
a gun against his knee, and who wore his bravest 
sporting regalia. "You are such a eenocent young 
gearl!" said the large lady, sarcastically, "you, Mary!" 
"Is dot your leedle lamb, Mary?" she added, pointing to 
the young man. 
"Oh! you shut your mout', mamma," said Mary, with 
rising indignation, 
"Don't you tare call me mamma, you!" said the large 
lady. 
"Veil, what should I call you den — grandma?" 
"You hush up now, or I slap your nose," said "grand- 
ma," much incensed by this thrust. 
War seemed imminent, but was averted by the young- 
man, who ceased his maudlin singing long enough to 
interpose between the two excited ladies. The peace 
commission was still in session when I got off the 
car. 
This odd phase of Chicago life has never before come 
to my attention. The Illinois Central trains do not run 
into the most frequented localities in the marsh coun- 
try south of the city, but are chiefly devoted to carry- 
ing business people between the city and points six or 
eight miles south. Where this midnight train got its 
midnight cargo of odd sporting folk is one of the 
mysteries of city life. 
"Western Forest Fires. 
As may have been observed in the daily despatches of 
the week, there are raging in Colorado the most dis- 
asirous and widespread forest fires which have been seen 
in a series of years. The fires extend over a country of 
many hundreds of miles from edge to edge, and at this 
writing they are stated to be increasing rather than 
diminishing in violence. The magnificent game coun- 
try in Routt county, Colo., has in part been burned over, 
and the effect on the big game shooting in that section 
may be disastrous. These extensive fires are certain to 
unsettle the habits of the game, which must find other 
ranges. While this may ruin the shooting in certain 
districts, it is apt to largely increase the game supply in 
others. 
In northwestern Wisconsin, also, there are wide- 
spread forest fires this week, though not yet so disas- 
trous in loss of life as those which burned up Hinckley 
and other Minnesota towns not long ago. These fires, 
coming as they do just before the deer shooting sea- 
son, may create a disturbance in the game supply. Five 
counties are reported burned over. It is one of the sad 
things of yearly history in the pine country that these 
fires mysteriously spring up and get beyond control. 
It is said that the Colorado fires were caused by sheep 
ranchers, who were trying to free their pastures of a 
certain obnoxious weed; but this story is advanced by 
the cow men, and what a cow man says about a sheep 
man is sometimes to be taken with a grain of salt. 
Deer. 
There is every reason to think that the deer season in 
our Northern pine country will prove a p-ood one. At 
Spencer, Fifield and Conover, in Wisconsin, deer have 
been seen all through the summer and fall in such num- 
bers that a good season seems a certainty. Already 
some of the residents are taking out their deer hunting 
licenses. 
It is still too early to learn where the great crowd of 
non-resident deer hunters will go this fall, but I think 
that Minnesota will get most of this traffic, as that 
States does not ask a license. 
His Vacation. 
I know in this city a business man, a partner in a 
wholesale grocery firm, who has been at work for twen- 
ty-three years. He may -have slept a little in course of 
that time, but not very much. He is not uo exactly with 
the lark each morning, because he would beat the lark 
in the first quarter of the track if there were any'larks 
here to beat. He takes the first train down town every 
morning and people who get up early enough set their 
clocks by him. I think he has never cared to catch a 
fish or kill a bird, because he has been too busy to think 
of it. He is what is called a business success, which is 
to say, he has some property and more dyspepsia. This 
week this man, for some unknown reason, concluded to 
take a vacation, the first one in twenty-three years. The 
firm told him to go away and stay a month, if he wanted 
to, and he went As luck would have it, he got in with 
a party of the right sort of men and went to the right 
sort of place. I understand that they went in at Tower. 
Minn., and thence took wagons for the interior, a trip 
very tempting even to an experienced vacationer. What 
a surprise there is waiting for that Chicago business 
man, on this, his one vacation out of his whole business 
life! Methinks if he does not fall dead of sheer hap- 
piness, he will come back a wiser man, and I doubt 
A^ery much if there shall elapse another twenty-three 
years before he sees again the wide woods and the 
pleasant waters of Minnesota. 
Ducks. 
The Northern ducks are beginning to come down, and' 
have appeared in some numbers on the Poygan, Kosh- 
konong and Puckaway marshes. The season at Horicon 
Marsh has not been a good one, but may improve with 
the Northern flight. No ducks have yet appeared on the 
Kankakee marshes, and it is not thought there will be 
any shooting of consequence on that stream this fall. 
A party of New York gentlemen, including Messrs. 
J. von Lengerke, Theodore Schultz, Thomas Klingman 
and Fred Schoverling, passed through Minneapolis this 
week on their way to Crary, N. D., where they expect 
to have fine goose shooting. 
Messrs. Albert Nicholson, John Nicholson and 
Charles Reed have gone to Minnesota this week, and 
will hunt ducks near Conway, on the Great Northern. 
At Brown's Valley, Minn., there will, from all ac- 
counts, be good duck shooting within the next couple 
of weeks. 
Partridge. 
This will be a good season for ruffed grouse in upper 
Wisconsin. Near Conover, Twin Lakes and adjoining 
points these birds are reported as numerous. Near 
Houghton, Mich., there is good partridge country also, 
and I note that one bag of twenty-eight was made by a 
party one day this week. 
Big Game. 
The station of Opal, Wyo,, is the disembarking point 
of large numbers of big game hunters, who go 
into the Gros Ventre country. This week a party of 
Foresty City, Mo., sportsmen left for that point, whence 
they go to Fontanelle, Wyo. These gentlemen are 
Messrs. F. W. Harmon, F. E. Bullock, L. P. Sentney, 
J. W. Hill and J. W. Morris. Yet another party start- 
ing for the mountains goes from Troy, Kan. There will 
be six in this party, headed by Dr. J. S. Dinsmore, and 
they will leave the railroad at Laramie, whence they go 
into northwest Colorado for their trip. 
I have not heard lately from Mr. Win. Wells, of 
Uinta county, Wyo., who wrote me a while ago and 
spoke of the sport to be had in his Gros Ventre country. 
Mr. Wells has a good pack of dogs, and he can get a 
lion about whenever he wants it, to say nothing of elk 
and other game. I wanted very much to go out and 
have a look at these dogs this fall, but fear it is one of 
the many impossibilities of life. 
Chickens in Lower Illinois. 
Dr. J. M. Nixon, of Columbia, 111., offers some in- 
formation about the state of affairs in regard to quail 
in the lower part of Illinois, he having seen the Forest 
and Stream statements in regard to the workings of 
the St. Louis market. I hope this new light on the bad 
state of affairs in the lower part of Illinois may lead to 
some practical suggestions for the stopping of this leak 
in Illinois game. Dr. Nixon remarks: 
"Not having Warden Loveday's address, and noting, 
your article in this issue of Forest and Stream, I 
take the liberty of writing you, hoping the state of 
affairs in this section will thereby come to the notice of 
the warden. We have no market hunters, nor are our 
