47* 
deliberation Mr. Fullerton good naturedly let him have his 
deer, and I presume the feast went on. 
Figures, 
A Pacific Coast paper estimates that 72,500 men in that 
State go shooting or fishing each year, and spend about 
$40 at least per man each year in the pursuit of sport. This 
figures $2,900,000 each year spent by the residents alone,, 
not including the many visiting shooters and fishers who 
come in from all over the country. This covers only the 
hotel and traveling expenses, and to the estimate is added 
$10 per head for ammunition, etc., or $725,000 more. It 
pays to have something to go after by way of sport. 
The Tribe of Scribes. 
A numBer of Chicago newspaper men last summer 
broke away off their reservation and took a trip up into the 
Lake Superior country, going in near Marquette. They 
were so much delighted with the experience that they 
thought it would be a good thing to permanently corral 
some of that country for club purposes. A tract of sixty- 
one acres near Sauk's Head was secured, and the club 
has been set on foot, with membership fee of $25 and 
annual dues of $10. Opie Read, the novelist, is presi- 
dent of the club, and the well-known artist, W. W- Dens- 
low, the vice-president. The temporary organization was 
formed last summer, but the annual meeting approaches 
and it is hoped that a number of good fellows will come 
to the front and join, not necessarily all newspaper men 
or artists, but anybody who loves a good summer loafing 
place, with good trout fishing close at hand. Opie Read 
says the brook trout are long as his arm, and that they 
swim lazily by the island in large schools. A club house 
will be built and there are plenty of sites for cottages along 
the beach or upon the island, which is one of the pieces 
of property. When this club gets to going there will be 
a sag in the shore line of Lake Superior, for there is going 
to be mere intellect to the square foot in the immediate 
vicinity of Sauk's Head than has ever happened out of 
doors since the history of the seven wise men and the 
laundry yacht. It will be, in part, the Press Club of 
Chicago transferred to summer quarters, and it should be 
a pleasant place to know. 
Biggest Bass. 
If daily newspaper advices be correct, as very often they 
are not, the record on small-mouth bass has been broken 
badly. Press dispatches from Madison, Wis., state that 
on. Nov. 28 Isaac Palmer, a fisherman, caught in Lake 
Mendota, off McBride's Point, a small-mouth bass weigh- 
ing Slbs. iooz., measuring 2434111. in length and I7>)4in. in 
girth. This fish was bought by Con. Kreuz, of Madison, 
and will be mounted. I have seen some of these big bass 
from this Madison country, and they were small-mouths, 
as I presume this one is. but they are not marked like the 
river small-mouths, having a uniform leaden or yellow 
color. It will be interesting to know whether the details 
above are accurate. 
St, Louis and Illinois Game. 
State Warden Harry Loveday has been having fun lately 
with the St. Louis game dealers. As earlier mentioned 
in these columns, a great deal of game has been going 
from lower Illinois to the great St. Louis market, which is 
second only to Chicago in the Western country for its 
rapaciousness. Some of this game is shipped straight 
through, and is not reached by the Illinois officials, but 
lately it was learned that a sort of "Mr. Hicks" clearing 
house has been established at East St. Louis by one Geo. 
Heikes, and also by Broadway & Co., of that town. These 
men sent out word over the lower part of the State that it 
"would be all right" if game was shipped to them, so a 
large number of Southern shippers did send them game. 
Mr. Loveday made a little raid and captured about 2,000 
quail at East St. Louis, all destined for the St. Louis 
market. Then the dealers of the latter town were exceed- 
ing wroth, and now declare that they will sue Mr. Love- 
day for breach of promise, or something awful, because he 
got their quail. They say it is unjust discrimination when 
they can't buy quail as much as Chicago does. To this 
Mr. Loveday has occasion to make no immediate reply. 
The nerve of these dealers is something Homeric. Now 
it is generally known that game is shipped to commission 
men, consigned for sale by the country shipper and- not 
really bought by the commission man at all, who acts only 
as agent for the shipper, and is paid by a commission on 
what he sells. Those St. Louis dealers had no more 
title to that game that was seized than they have to the 
halo around the moon, and they would not have claimed 
title if they had had it in possession, let alone having 
the stuff on the wrong side of the Mississippi River and 
in a State which has jurisdiction over it, whereas their 
own State can have no jurisdiction at all. Yet they are 
going to sue the State warden of Illinois ! 
* Warden Loveday this week seized 300 quail and four 
dozen ducks, shipped from an Illinois point to Whitcomb, 
a Chicago dealer. He allowed the ducks to go with the 
quail and raked in the whole outfit, 
This taking of legal game found in the same ship- 
ment with illegal game is one which I think would lie apt 
to raise a question of law or of construction of the law. 
Hitherto it has been the custom in making a seizure of 
illegal game to sort out any stuff that may not be contra- 
band and notify the dealer to come and take it. Some- 
times the dealer gets hot and won't take it, and sometimes 
he meekly comes and gets it. Really, I can see no 
reason why the dealer should have any benefit whatever 
from the shipment, nor why the shipper should have 
either. In Minnesota they seize the dog and gun of 
illegal shooters as unlawful appliances, and this measure 
has been found to work mighty well and promptly too. 
Now it is the same way with a barrel of ducks or rab- 
bits which is filled in with illegal quail, grouse or the like. 
The applia'nce is that barrel and its contents. It is the 
intent to evade the law by means of that form of package. 
The poultry, hides, legal game or other stuff used to 
cover up the illegal game may in the eye of the law at 
least, as I am fully disposed to believe, be seized along 
with the contraband stuff and confiscated. At least, were 
I game warden, this is just what I should do. The 
stuff does not belong to the agent to whom it is shipped, 
but the shipper who. sends it in. That shipper knows he 
has broken the law, and that he has taken steps to cover 
FOREST AND STREAM 
up his violations. He is mighty apt not to attempt the 
difficult act of coming into court with unclean hands. The 
more good, fat turkeys, and succulent tame ducks, and 
calf skins, and pieces of veal that the warden swipes, the 
more discouraged will be the shrewd country dealer who 
sews quail up iu rabbits, and puts ducks and prairie 
chickens into calves, and heads up barrels full of stuff 
with hens at the ends and quail in the middle. 
Ute Problem Solved. 
Year after year we have been hearing of the troubles 
of the Colorado citizens with the Uintah Utes, who each 
fall come into Routt and Rio Blanco counties and make a 
big hunt in spite of the wardens. Last fall there was a 
bloody encounter, which left no better feeling between 
the whites and the Indians. The latter claim that they 
have a treaty -right to hunt on these lands, which were 
part of their old reservation, and the worst of it is, they 
do still have that right. They claim that they ought to 
be allowed to hunt there, because white men hunt there all 
the time. Some 2,000,000 acres of land in that region was 
set apart for a timber reserve, but the red hunters cannot 
understand that this affects their hunting rights there, 
though under the law there can be no hunting on such a 
reserve by white men. The latter did not propose to allow 
red men to hunt where they could not, and there was little 
hope that the one side or the other would ever become 
less stubborn in regard to the alleged or supposed rights 
of the matter. Now the United States Government makes 
the very wise proposal to compromise the matter equitably 
for all "concerned by purchasing the hunting rights of the 
tribe for a certain sum, which shall be made satisfactory 
to the Indians. This would be a great relief to the 
Colorado wardens, who have no easy task when they are 
asked to suppress the annual Ute inroads. It would per- 
haps result in bringing more white hunters and white 
settlers into that region, and from that time its excellence 
as a purely hunting precinct would no doub't steadily de- 
cline, so that the result as to the game would be pretty 
much the same in one case as the other. Commissioner 
Swan, of Colorado, is delighted at the prospect of this 
easy settlement of a long-mooted question. It is to be 
hop'ed that action equally wise and conservative may be 
taken in all these Western sections where the situation 
as to these game wars is more or less similar to that of 
the destrict mentioned. It is bad for the white hunters 
to be driven out, or for white settlers to be disturbed, but 
it is likely that in very many instances the Indians be- 
lieve they are doing what they have been told by the 
Great Father they have a right to do. They do not al- 
wavs think just as clearly as we do, and their mode of life 
is different from ours; though perhaps it is asking too 
much of a red hot mountain man to stop to figure on 
that son of thing when he sees a bunch of Indians coming 
in on his range and promising to run him out of what he 
also thinks is his own country. 
From the Blackfeet. 
I have a recent letter from the Blackfeet reservation 
from Mr. J. W. Schultz, who says that the big game of 
that country is getting a pretty bad shaking up since the 
mining began. He brings the bad news that Billy Jack- 
son, who was seen by very many friends at New York 
Rome time ago at the sportsmen's exposition, continues in 
v<*rv precarious health, and is unable to get about very 
much. I hope this news may not be true, or not per- 
mancntlv true, for Billy Jackson is one of the rarest of 
good fellows, and deserves nothing but good health and 
happiness. It is a liberal education to camp with Billy 
and hear him tell about the old times. 
Mr. Schultz writes that he saw a good deal of Charlie 
Russell at Great Falls, Mont., on a late visit over there, 
and he adds that Russell is "wasting his talent painting 
pictures of Indians and cowboys out there, for they want 
to buy pictures by the yard at Great Falls." That is no 
good way to sell pictures, and if Mr. Russell will come on 
to Chicago or New York I reckon some of us might take 
him around to places where they trade on a different basis. 
I don't know that he would Jike to live very long in the 
East, but he might stand it for a time. There is one 
thing about Mr. Russell and his work that any real West- 
ern man can't help liking, and that is the fact that he is 
doing his work out of his own love for it and his actnal 
knowledge of it. Most of the popular pictorial ideas about 
the West come from men who do not live in the West, but 
who visit it purposely to get posted about it. These must 
always be at a certain disadvantage to the artist who is, as 
it were, upon the spot. Yet, though one gathers eggs in 
the barn where they are laid, he can best sell them in 
the store where they are bought. I first saw one of Mr. 
Russell's paintings in a shop window at Butte, so I always 
thought I knew him, though come to think of it, I believe 
I never met him, 
Yet another bit of news from the Blackfeet country 
came to-day by way of Mr. Charles H. Cobb, who paid 
this office a visit, Mr. Cobb is son-in-law of Capt. T. P. 
Fuller. Indian agent for the Blackfeet, and is just back 
from a tall hunt in the St Mary's country, on which he 
got both sheep and goats. He also saw Billy Jackson, and 
he says Billy is pretty sick, but he thought not dangerous- 
ly so. He" brings word from our old-time host, Joe 
Kipp, and other reservation acquaintances, and says that 
all is well out there. Mr. Cobb himself lives at Kankakee, 
111., but is much at the reservation in Montana, which is a 
truly delightful place to visit. 
Otter. 
I was in at a furrier's the other day, getting rny seal- 
skin overcoat repaired, when I chanced to see a big pile of 
nice otter skins, dressed and plucked. They were fairly 
good skins, though not so dark as some of our Northern 
"fur. I asked where most of the otter came from, 
and was told that it was from the Southwest, and also 
from Alabama and Georgia, with some from Arkansas. 
This. I imagine, is news to the average sportsman. If 
you ask any trapper or traveler where there are plenty of 
otter, he will not be able to tell you. I never saw a 
place yet where there were many of these slippery beasts, 
which seem to be scattered all over the country, without 
very many in any one place. There are a few, and very 
fine ones they are too, for the most part, in upper Wis- 
consin, but the trapper who gets three otter in a winter 
there is about two or three otter ahead of the average. 
[D^. to, 1898. 
Good Trio. 
I had two old-timers and an explorer in my office to- 
day, and they made a good trio. Mr. Edward Kemeys, of 
Chicago, the well-known sculptor, met there Buffalo 
Jones, and they two were able to exchange many pleasant 
reminiscences about the old buffalo days in Kansas, where 
they both hunted in the early seventies. They knew that 
country like a book, and had a good time together. Mr. 
Kemeys is very much devoted to the wolf, the big gray 
wolf, and when Jones began to tell about some of his wolf 
experiences in the arctic trip, from which he has recently 
returned (as mentioned in these columns), it was_ as much 
as one could do to keep both gentlemen on their chairs, 
they were that happy, talking wolf. 
My explerer was -ray old friend Charlie Norris, with 
whom I used to go trout fishing and snowshoeing up in 
Wisconsin in former years. Charlie has been off hunting 
gold, taking the "backdoor route" to the Klondike, for 
which promising region he started a year ago. He never 
got to the headwaters of the Pelly River, but he thinks 
perhaps his partner has by this time. Charlie was 
separated from the rest of his party and robbed by some 
fellows he met on the trail, and so forced to turn back 
from his journey up the Peace River. He made him a 
raft and ran the Peace alone, rapids and -all, till he finally 
wound up in Athabasca Lake and thence got the chance to 
work his way back to Edmonton. Naturally I wanted 
to give the Forest and Stkeam a story of this little trip, 
which not very many men have made or ever could make, 
and this he has promised to do at an early date, it was 
something of an undertaking to start out in the dead of 
winter from Edmonton, with a party of tenderfeet and 
with a train of horse sledges, to go over an unknown trail 
into a countrv which nobody had ever seen. Mr. Norris 
found that the maps were not maps, and the information 
not information, but guesswork, and he can tell a pretty 
story about the far-away land of fur and frost. 
Roping a White Goat. 
It is rather a startling, but not an impossible nor art 
implausible story, which comes from the Cowlitz River 
country of far-off Washington this week, recounting the 
capture alive of a white mountain goat. It seems that 
Edward Dickson was the man lucky enough to perform 
this rather unusual feat of roping a wild goat. He was 
riding through the mountains, horseback, accompanied 
by his dog, and heard the latter barking on ahead a 
little way. He rode up and found the dog engaged in 
attacking or repelling the attack of a white goat, which 
had the dog at a disadvantage in the snow. Dickson 
hurriedly took the rope from his saddle, and going iu 
close succeeded in roping the goat, which he tied up 
to a tree, though not without something of a tussle. 
He got help later, and tried to take away the animal, ■ 
but it fought everything in sight and refused to go. The 
men at last tied his feet together and wound his horns 
round with gunny sacks, thus finally getting the creature 
away to the nearest house, where it was left at last 
accounts. Dickson was caught in the arm by one of the 
horns of the goat, and somewhat hurt. 
All this might sound like a fairy tale, did 
it not so stric'Jv accord with the description 
and habits of the" white goat, The horns of this 
animal are described to be "black as jet." and "he 
uses them with great dexterity." The story says the 
goat "is white as snow, and has a high crest or mane 
between. his shoulders." All this tallies with the white 
goat as the hunters of the Rockies know it. When I 
was out in the Blackfoot country after goats the hunt- 
ers out there said that it was never customarv to let 
a dog attack a white goat, because the goat would 
nearly alwavs kill the dog. I think I mentioned the 
story told by Mr. J. W. Schultz. of a hunter who 
once climbed a mountain plateau where a big billy was 
lying, and who was a bit surprised to see the goat come 
at him instead of running away. All this is quite in 
line with what little experience I had with these odd 
and misfit creatures. Both the goats T shot bad.plerily 
of chance to get away, for they saw me, I should think, 
before I did them, yet neither of them made any attempt 
to get off. but seemed too lazy or too stupid. The 
hunters call them the biggest fool thing that runs the 
mountains, and do not care to hunt them. I am disposed 
to think that Dickson did rope a goat, and it is pleasant 
to add that the animal seems to be doing well at the 
mountain ranch, and eats and drinks as though it were 
not much bothered about the future. If you are look- 
ing for a philosopher, 'you can find him in the mountain 
billy, a cheerful, optimistic philosopher, who believes 
that it is all going to come out for the best, who would 
not run to gel away from anything, and whose dignity 
can't be jarred by anything short of a .30-30, and maybe 
two or three of that. 
The Master of the Herd. 
If one wanted to get a typically grand buffalo bull 
head for a picture, he ought to get that of old "John L. 
Sullivan," the finest and most pugnacious bull of the old 
Jones buffalo herd, which was sold to Charlie Allard, of 
the Flathead reservation in Montana. There are sev- 
eral photographs of this old fellow, and he is still alive. 
He has never been tamed and never been whipped. I 
remember this bull very well, that is to say, I remember 
him as he was in his infancy. This was one of the 
calves which we caught in the 1886 hunt in the Texas 
Panhandle. He was the largest of the lot, a stocky, 
sturdy, big-boned fellow. That was the calf we had. to 
feed out of a certain white pail. He would not eat out 
of anything else. He was savage even then, and butted 
over every man that came near him. I remember very 
well the run on which he was caught, and how we £ar ; 
ried him half in our arms in the front seat of the light 
wagon. He was a fighter from the start. Later he de- 
veloped into a tremendous specimen. His horns meas- 
ure over 2oin. around the butt, and his topknot is a 
spreading mass of wool. In stature he is a giant among 
his kind. Always vicious, he once chased and nearly 
killed Jones in the pasture. Jones got a shotgun and 
shot him in the face, thinking to tame him and cure 
him of his viciousness. The charge ' destroyed one eye 
of the bull, but he scorned to run. He was then shot 
in the nose and lips, a heavy load of duck shot striking 
1 
