Oct. is, 1898.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
308 
but could not. This, as well as the two last of mine, were 
all taken by a Mr. W. H. Smith, of Loveland, Colo., 
who wrote me that they were probably the offspring 
of wounded ducks m the small pounds, where he shot 
them, and where they could not get other mates. 
M. Hardy. 
mt[e J?## mtd §lnn. 
Proprietors of fishing and hunting resorts will find it profitable 
to advertise them in Forest and Stream. 
The "Brief's" Pictures. 
The illustrations in the current edition of Game Laws in Brief, 
Mr. Charles Hallock says, well represent America's wilderness 
sports. The Brief gives all the laws of the United States and 
Canada for the practical guidance of anglers and shooters. As 
an autl"«rity, it has a long record of unassailed and unassailable 
accuracy. Forest and Stream Pub. Co. sends it postpaid for 25 
cents, or your dealer will supply you. 
Adirondack Deer, Guides and 
Woodsmen. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
It is with considerable regret that I notice the efforts 
that are being made from time to time to convince peo- 
ple that, after all, the non-hounding deer law is a 
failure, and that the natives of the Adirondack region are 
for having it repealed. That sooner or later the law 
will be repealed there is little doubt in my mind. Pretty 
soon we will hear of whole gardens and countless acres 
of buckwheat devastated by the deer, of how the rail- 
road trains have to run on half-time owing to the dan- 
ger of being derailed by running into some fat and 
•hemlocked-stub-horned buck; and if men are not at- 
tacked by half-starved deer some of these days it will be 
a wonder. 
The idea of turning the hounds loose is not unattrac- 
tive to poetical ears — mellow baying, and deer fleeing 
with graceful leaps, crashing brush and the splash of 
water, not to mention the privilege of sitting still and 
waiting for the game to come, cannot fail to arouse en- 
thusiasm in many quarters, but especially in the opales- 
cent-tinted prospectus of a three-story, elegantly fur- 
nished ami fully equipped "camp" in the woods. Run- 
ways like cow paths, deer sure to come, all you have to 
do is sit and wait for them, experienced guides to put 
out the dogs — all these are potent arguments to the mind 
of many a "sportsman" whose home walls are adorned 
with big heads and floors covered with great skins of 
deer, whose brain is replete with tales of deer brought 
down, of wounded ones that were lost, of some few that 
gave scant glimpses of their sleek coats and "escaped." 
I know of such a case. A man heard that deer were 
to be killed in the Adirondacks. He had visited a 
sportsman's show, or had read a story about deer shoot- 
ing. He had seen a deer head, and he could afford to 
do as he pleased for a few days each year, so he learned 
to shoot deer. He got his gun and came to the woods of 
Moose River. He had the best guides in the country, 
and naturally the best dogs procurable — -winter trained 
on bloody trails in deep snow (but he didn't know of 
that perhaps). For three years, or four, he came to 
Moose River. His first rifle practice, almost, was at a 
deer. 
Such hunting as this man's was never before seen up 
there. For twelve or fifteen days the dogs ran the deer 
and the party killed deer every day. No one that will 
tell knows how many deer were killed by this one party. 
It makes no difference for that matter. But when the 
deer hounding law was passed the man ceased to go 
up there hunting. 
He paid his four or five guides well. His chief guide 
was his teamster as well, and to each of these men the 
sum of $50 at least was coming at the end of the trip, 
not to mention high living for the time in the woods, and 
rewards for extra service, and presents. Although these 
guides were making good money because the hounds 
could be used, yet there was not one of them who did 
not advocate, as much as he could, a non-hounding law. 
They would rather have the deer preserved than to make 
money by their destruction. 
I "don't know much about the Fulton Chain 
and Saranac Lake guides and hotel keepers. I 
have steered pretty clear of the hotels there. 
I have always camped where the beds were balsam 
boughs, and the sheets thick blankets. Of course, I 
have met a few of the boys from that region, but most- 
ly I have been with the men in the northern part of 
Herkimer county. I haven't been in closer touch than 
letters would fetch me for a year past, but every one 
that I saw who knew the woods last fall spoke about the 
iway things were as regards deer. Herkimer county is 
almost solid for the maintenance of the non-hounding 
faw, and the few who are against the law are directly 
connected. with summer resorts. 
It is probably so, that in the neighborhood of such 
Summer resorts as may be found along the Fulton Chain 
of lakes and the Saranacs a great majority of the "na- 
tives" are in favor of the lawful hounding, but I doubt 
very much if the strict woodsmen, the ones who live in 
little shanties surrounded by woods, wish to have the 
dogs bellowing around them, and destroying the source 
p f their chief pleasure. 
It should not be forgotten that the guides are not the 
only ones who live in the woods, and are natives there. 
There is a pretty clearly marked distinction between 
,the two kinds of inhabitants, and even among the guides 
there are kinds, as tourists have learned to their sorrow. 
The woodsmen that I know do not favor hounding. I 
mean by woodsmen the ones who need no trail to find 
their camp, and who handle axes a good deal better 
'than they do knives and forks, and yet bear themselves 
at the table acceptably. They carry guns when they go 
guiding, or else don't go. They are the strong and 
picturesque men when seen going through the woods, 
but cut awkward figures waiting on tables in camp. 
They are the ones who speak but little save among their 
associates. Their voices are not heard in Albany, and 
their vote is the only thing that ever makes them felt 
beyond the borders of their township. They are mostly 
small farmers, blacksmiths, loggers and lumbermen, car- 
penters and tradesmen, and they form the body of every 
community where no great blank-sided hotel rears itself 
bluntly against the wooded ridge. Guides form but a 
small commonwealth, but they are powerful because they 
are all the average tourist has to do with, and by their 
words the tourist naturally has to judge of conditions 
which the guide puts in a one-sided light, of course, if it 
deals with his trade. 
The woodsmen, as distinguished from the guides, I 
believe detest the practice of hounding, and the things 
that it involves, and more than ever now. The deer 
are seen more frequently in the Herkimer county clear- 
ings than two years ago, when they were scarce in- 
deed. They have no fear of bellowing brutes which, in 
the old days, ran wild all summer that they might be 
"hard" when fall and legitimate "sport" came. Even 
the guides who do not openly avow the value of pre- 
venting the hounds following deer admit in private 
conversation that the deer hounding is a destructive prac- 
tice, and tolerable only because it promises more money 
for the next half-dozen years. After that, "Why then 
I'll have something else to do." That is the literal 
argument I have met with when arguing the matter 
with a few professional guides. 
It will do no good to argue with any one about how 
many deer escape the dogs. The field has been gone 
over a dozen times, but any one with practical experience 
knows, and if he hasn't the practical experience as to 
still-hunting, let him read Van Dyke's "Still-Hunter," 
that not one in twenty or even fifty deer, still-hunted, is 
more than seen. While every bounder can tell how, at 
some time or other, he has started after one deer, known 
to be hanging around some swamp or ridge, and got it. 
One Saturday night four or five years ago a wood- 
chopper came to the store at Northwood, N. Y., and 
said that there were an old doe and two "yearlings" up 
in the Dix Swamp on Little Black Creek. "All right!" 
said Bill Pardy, "I'll come up to-morrow with old Rover 
and some of the boys, and we'll get one." At 10 o'clock 
next morning two of the deer were swinging from 
poles on the way to Northwood. It is true that that 
was exceptional luck, but as Bill said to me one time: 
"If I've got to have meat, why I get it," and when the 
boys go out with dogs, they get game if there is any to 
be started. The difficulty of hounding is almost exclu- 
sively confined to having all the runways manned. Buck- 
shot or a repeater does the little that remains to be 
done, |-J 4j '.4l 
The Adirondack woods are not so large as the Maine 
woods, and yearly they are growing more open to traffic, 
but it seems to me that there ought to be some way of 
keeping the deer there. While Maine deer are on the 
increase, apparently, or at least holding their own against 
a multitude of hunters, the Adirondacks are being skinned 
to the backbone. What can the hotel keepers and 
guides be thinking of when they ask for the return to 
methods that demonstrably mean the sure destruction of 
one of the three attractions of the region? With the deer 
gone, the trout going, and the woods a mass of spruce 
and hemlock choppings, where do these men expect to 
make their livings and fortunes? Do they expect to 
have something else to do then? 
Raymond S. Spears. 
New York City, 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In the Oct. 8 Forest and Stream Mr. Arthur F. 
Rice makes my note on Adirondack deer hunting con- 
ditions the text for a discussion of a column and more 
in support of the law now in force in New York State. 
Mr. Rice is perfectly welcome to nse my note as a 
text, and I am glad it has resulted in his interesting 
letter, but one would infer from the tone of his article 
that he was arguing with a rabid advocate of hounding, 
whereas he has not the slightest ground for such an 
assumption, since in the note in question I have plain- 
ly stated my belief that the legislation against hound- 
ing is a good thing. 
My note called attention to some results of the pres- 
ent law, and in it I made allusion to the popular senti- 
ment of the natives of the Adirondack counties in 
favor of hounding. I recorded the fact as an honest 
observer, and your well-informed correspondent Juve- 
nal agrees with me, as I think any fair-minded man 
acquainted with the conditions will agree. When I say 
that the law stopping hounding is opposed to the wishes 
of the native population (and I mean to include not only 
hotel keepers and guides, but also all the other classes, 
farmers, carpenters, storekeepers and the like), the 
statement does not bear on the merits of the law, and is 
not used as an argument against it. If is simply a 
" statement of fact as I see it, interesting because a de- 
feat of democratic ideals. 
I think Mr. Rice will make a stronger argument in 
support of his case if he leaves this particular point 
alone, and confines himself to showing that the deer 
are increasing in numbers under the non-hounding law. 
• J. B Burnham. 
P. S. — I also object to Mr. Rice's use of the cut and 
dried materialistic argument of dollars and cents where 
the native population is concerned. I have a sympathy 
for the natives, and know as good sportsmen among 
them as among city sportsmen (and a great deal better 
than the average city article). Mr. R. says: "Suppose 
that this army of sportsmen, who spend hundreds of 
thousands of dollars annually, should decide to stay 
away from the Adirondacks, could any law be a com- 
pensation for this loss in hard cash to the native popu- 
lation?" 
I have seen this argument repeated in print so many 
times (probably I have used it myself) that it actually 
makes me sick to write the words. Thank goodness, 
there are other things besides salvation that haven't 
price in dollars. If Mr. Rice ever got close to the 
heart of a native Adirondack hunter I think he would 
find in nine cases out of ten that the native longs for 
his old wilderness and is heartsick of the army of city 
visitors, whether he profits by their money or not. 
J. B. B. 
Zigzag Experiences. 
Ill,— Shooting Ruffed Grouse with a Gun Wad. 
The dog-star is no longer doing business at the old 
stand, and the breath of Boreas has already painted hill- 
side and dale in all the gorgeous colors of autumn. The 
crisp frosts have purified the air and made it more ex- 
hilarating than the choicest vintage of champagne — its 
stillness broken only by the tread of the sportsman and 
the tinkle of the bell on his- well-trained setter or point- 
er, as they seek well-known coverts. 
In addition to the good which comes from a day 
spent in wooded copse and alder runs, and the many 
fascinations and varied experiences which remain as 
prized remembrances, a thorough knowledge of the re- 
gion and of the habits of the game birds of our coun 
try, together with a keen eye, quick hand and well- 
trained dog, will reward the effort with many a goodly 
bag. Even in this, the old Bay State, one of the oldest 
and most densely populated in the Union, the most 
optimistic would doubt, and even credulity itself would 
be taxed, if told the number of game birds annually 
killed within its borders. 
But it is not my purpose now to tell of the benefit, 
pleasure or success that comes to him who goes afield, 
but to relate another of the many unexpected and pecu- 
liar experiences which befall the devotee of dog and 
gun. 
We had spent the crisp, frosty night in the hospitable 
Holmes homestead, on Dresser Hill, in the old town of 
Charlton, and early in the morning a trio, consisting of 
the two sons, Erford and Charley, and the writer, ac- 
companied by Shot and Doc — two as good setters as 
ever pointed or retrieved a bird — started southward to- 
ward the covers in Dudley — the land of the Nipmucks 
and the birthplace of Nessmuk— the land of grapevine 
and chestnut — the home of many a prized woodcock and 
lordly ruffed grouse. 
We beat not the covers in vain, and the result, with 
smooth plumage and laid in a row, won encomiums 
from the farmer who kindly brought us a pitcher of new 
cider to add zest to our lunch at the nooning hour. 
Swinging around to the westward to take in new 
ground on our return, we encountered a hill of con- 
siderable proportions, the sloping sides of which and 
adjacent territory were covered with a dense growth 
which made good cover, while the summit had been 
cleared and was now open pasture land. 
My companions, who were entirely familiar with the 
locality, informed me that the cover was very dense 
around the base of the hill, and so thoroughly over- 
grown with grapevines and wild clematis that it was 
very difficult to get through it, and to make a suc- 
cessful shot therein was next to impossible; and they 
kindly advised me to take a position on the top, where 
I would get an open shot at every bird that they might 
start and not kill, as they were certain to dart up over 
the summit to the cover on the opposite side. 
I am not boasting that I am as young or light on 
foot as once I was, nor am I denying that I was some- 
what fatigued by the lengthened miles and unusual ex- 
ercise of the day; but whether it was that my com- 
panions noticed this and desired to spare me, or be- 
cause of that innate chivalry and sense of decency so 
characteristic of good breeding that prompted them to 
accord me the place of greatest advantage, I may never 
know. But all the same, I was only too glad to comply 
and soon I was in my place on the summit. 
The tinkle, tinkle of the bells, and now and then a 
word of admonition or caution to the dogs, apprised 
me of their location, and an occasional bang, or bang 
—bang! proclaimed the death knell and that no bird 
would confront me on the summit. 
Soon, however, a covey was flushed, when both guns 
did good execution, but a "Mark! Mark!" apprised me 
to be on the alert, and -instantly an old cock bird broke 
cover and wheeled into an open cow-path, and came 
directly toward me, closely hugging the ground. I need 
not tell old sportsmen of the thunder of his pinions or 
his lightning speed. 
Hastily throwing my gun to my shoulder, I pressed 
the trigger and received a fearful blow upon my feet. 
There, limp in death, lay my noble bird. I lost no time 
in replacing the empty shell with a fresh cartridge, when 
after the lapse of several minutes my dead bird began 
to show signs of life. 
. At this juncture I heard the single monosyllable 
"point!" and so placed one foot upon an extended wing 
as a precaution against any contingency and gave heed 
to the timely note of warning. 
Soon another noble bird came my way, and dis- 
covering my presence he soared upward to pass over my 
head, when I scored a nice, clean kill. Meanwhile my 
first bird, in his endeavors to secure his liberty, fluttered 
and thrashed the ground with all the animation and 
vigor of a mature bird that had never been injured. My 
companions soon joined me, when we put him out of his 
misery by passing the small blade of a penknife through 
the spinal column at the base of the skull. 
Subsequently, when the bird was dressed, the closest 
examination failed to reveal the presence of a single shot 
or shot mark. 
Square on the breast, where the neck joined the body, 
was a circular black mark that was very black and about 
the size of a silver quarter of a dollar. The shot had 
been scattered to the winds, and a gun wad had brought 
the quarry to earth. Geo. McAleer. 
Worcester, Mass 
The Destructive Side-Hunt. 
Oskaloosa, Iowa.— On a recent visit to Spirit Lake 
I found the country in the neighborhood overrun with 
chicken hunters. Some good bags were made, but near- 
ly all of the hunters complained of the scarcity of birds. 
We are going to have another side-hunt here at our place 
in a short time. I will let you know about it later on. 
For my part I have taken Forest and Stream for al- 
most ten years, and have never engaged in a side-hunt ■ 
it has taught me better. The Old Man ' 
The Forest and Stream is put to press each week on Tuesday 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach us at the 
latest by Monday, and as much earlier as practicable, 
