Dec. io, 1S98.J 
him, but he still stood his ground, He has never been 
subdued and is a fighter of "the worst sort. 
A tragic interest attaches to this wandering story of a 
real master of the herd. "You remember old' Queen, our 
Kentucky running mare, the one with which we caught 
most of the calves, don't you?" asked Buffalo Jones. 
"Well, that old bull John L. killed Queen, the very 
horse which carried me up when I roped him. The mare 
was always allowed to run free in the buffalo pasture. 
We had turned her out and resolved never to work her 
at anything again. One day, so I am told, though I 
was not there, Queen came too near to this mean hull, 
John L, The bull made a rip at her with his horn, and 
caught her fair in the side, tearing open the flank. He 
lifted her fairly up into the air and she came down dead. 
. The bull had killed the horse that caught him." 
This news about the gallant mare, which won our 
love on the hunt above mentioned, comes, even now, thus 
late, with a good deal of sadness. Queen was a noble 
animal, and worthy a better death. The day we gave 
her whisky and rubbed her for hours and nursed her till 
she got her sight back and recovered from a trip of 200 
miles without water, and running buffalo, we had this 
Same little calf on the rope close to us. If we had had 
any notion that he would ever have lived to kill Queen 
we would have killed him right there, valuable as he 
was. 
Changes in Illinois Law. 
Warden Loveday has in mind a number of changes in 
the game laws, which, after carefully weighing, he will 
have embodied in a bill and endeavor to have properly 
presented at the coming session of the Legislature. Last 
session there were many different and conflicting meas- 
ures. He thinks it would not be surprising if an entirely 
new game law were enacted. He is in favor of a gun . 
license. A number of petitions have been put in circulation 
looking toward changes in the law, and I understand 
that a meeting of interested parties, not belonging solely 
to any of our protectee associations, will be held at the 
office of the warden, Schiller Building, Chicago, probably 
on Monday evening next. E. Hough. 
1200 Boyce Building, Chicago. 111. 
Ring-necked Pheasants in New- 
Jersey, 
[From the Report of the Fish and Game Commission.] 
From Mr. John B. Lozier, Oradell, Sept., 15, 1898: 
The pheasants have stopped all summer in my vineyard 
and about the shrubbery on the lawns. T could hear 
the cocks crow every morning during the mating season. 
We flushed eight or ten young birds several times; 
whether they Were the same covey every time or not I 
cannot say. At any rate the prospects are bright, and if 
we can only keep the people who hunt in the snow 
away they will pull through all right. Our seasons for 
shooting, as you know, are wrong, and the only way to 
save any game is through the trespass law. Of course 
the farmers get plenty of abuse, because every pot- 
hunter' can hunt, but I guess they can stand it, T wish 
special efforts would be made to introduce the pheasants. 
Our county is their ideal. They seem very partial to 
meadows and the edges of brush lots, and are very proli- 
fic if not disturbed too much. Revise the game laws 
next year and attach good penalties. 
From Assemblyman Charles F. Hopkins. Boonton, 
Sept. 19. L898: The pheasants are doing well. After 
finding that trying to hatch them enclosed was a fail- 
ure, we let them go, and they are hatching, and have 
done so finely. They seem to do well, and remain about 
us yet. 
From Fish and Game Warden William G. Wise, Bur- 
lington, Sept. 20, 1898: The. ring- necked pheasants re- 
cently put out in this county have done well. I know 
of one instance where a farmer, while mowing his 
grain, saw a large bird get up and fly from under the 
machine and into an adjoining field. The next day he 
mowed that field and found that bird dead, as it had 
been injured while sitting on her nest of eggs. The 
latter were also subsequently found. 
From Mr. A. M. Gillam, South Vineland, Sept. 21, 
1898: Ring-necked pheasants will never thrive and 
multiply in New Jersey unless given two or three years' 
protection. They are too nearly domesticated to look 
out for themselves in the shooting season the first year 
after liberation, and can be exterminated by almost any 
kind of a pot-hunter. These are my conclusions, drawn 
from experience with the twelve birds I got from you 
last March. I released nine, in trios and in three differ- 
ent places, keeping three, a cock and two hens, in cap- 
tivity. Three of those released — two cocks and one hen 
— came back in the course of time, and the hen, after 
literally wearing a pathway along the side of the wire in- 
closure in which the captives were confined, was finally 
allowed to go in; 'but two weeks later was thrown out 
again. She continued to hang around the place with 
one of the outside cocks, both eating with the ordinary 
barnyard fowl, until she hatched out young ones, when 
the hen disappeared. 
The hens in captivity had about ioo eggs. I set forty- 
one under two ordinary hens and hatched out thirty- 
eight. One of the pheasant hens set in captivity on 
eleven eggs and hatched ten. Forty of the chicks grew 
to be about as large as quail, when most of them got 
weak in the legs all at once. I shut off on hard boiled 
eggs and bread crumbs and fed more strengthening 
food. Most of them recovered, but some legs never 
straightened, and I destroyed the chicks thus afflicted. 
Thirty grew up past dying age — at least I thought so 
until one day in very warm weather six died, apparently 
of cholera. 
Six hatched by the pheasant hen came through all 
right, and as' they had never been handled in any way 
they were comparatively shy, and I released them. The 
others will chase a man instead of running awa3* from 
him, and there would be little use of turning them out, 
for any one could kill them with a stick. The pheasant 
hen that hatched in captivity died in August. Over- 
feeding, I imagine, for she was very fat. I gave a 
neighbor who thought he knew all about pheasants twen- 
ty eggs. He hatched thirteen, but all died young. 
FOREST AMD STHEAM. 
Of the nine old birds put out I cannot give either as 
good or as thorough a report as I would like to. Want 
nf time and the very warm weather have kept me out of 
the woods. I have never been near one trio The 
other two trios got together and for half the. summer the 
two cocks walked about together, ranging for half a 
mile or so. They raided on berry patches and occasion- 
ally tought. The hens, 1 concluded, were setting. 
Then one cock came back to the pen and spent all his 
time fighting the cock in captivity. Finally the outside 
cock was found dead, half a mile away, but with no 
marks cm him. One pheasant hen was seen walking 
about with two chicks; another had a dozen or so, and a 
third about half a dozen. The fourth of this bunch 
apparently did not hatch out. How many of these 
three broods grew up I cannot say, but 1 fear not many, 
for the signs are scarce. I took quite a long trip with 
my pointer dog recently, and found but four— one old 
hen and three nearly grown young ones. I suspect 
farmers' bovs killed some in retaliation for stolen straw- 
berries. I fear this section has too many small owners 
for the good health of such domestic and impudent 
birds. When feeding it is difficult to frighten them 
away. There should be more grain fields and fewer 
berry patches. It is an ideal quail country, but 1 am 
forced to admit that it is not perfect for ring-necked 
pheasants, at least unless the birds are given time to 
become acquainted with their surroundings before being 
made game. I am sorry they could not have three years' 
protection. 
From Mr. Charles M. Freeman, Metuchcn, Sept. 23, 
1898: As to the English pheasants, from those sent me 
there are now about thirty healthy young birds, and if 
they winter well I think they will multiply rapidly. 
From Mr. George Ricardo, Hackensack, Sept. 24, 
1898: The pheasants are hard to locate, as the only in- 
formation to be had is that obtained from farmers. If 
gunners know where there are any birds they a e keep- 
ing it to themselves. There are two small broods on 
the farm of Mr. John B. Lozier and there is one on the 
farm of Mrs. S. J. Hopper. There were two nests in one 
field on the Spring Valley road. The only nest I have 
heard of from the Westwood birds had nine eggs in 
it, but was destroyed by some animal. The birds at 
Paramus and Englewood have been seen a number of 
times, but I cannot ascertain whether they have bred or 
not. 
The Pawling Club's Plan. 
Sing Sing, N. Y., Dec. 3. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
If all gun clubs throughout New York State were as pro- 
gressive as the Pawling Rod and Gun Club, good shooting 
would be assured for years to come. Having been for- 
tunate enough to be the guest of a member of the club 
this fall, I was enabled to see what really could be done in 
the propagation of game birds with a little public-spirited 
enterprise. We flushed seven coveys of quail in one morn- 
ing — aggregating eighty birds. We picked out a few old 
birds, sparing the younger ones. 
The club has purchased the. shooting rights of most of 
the farms in the vicinity of Pawling, so the members are 
protected in a measure from non-resident sportsmen. The 
proceeds of the "clay bird tournament" held there are 
used for the purchasing of quail and pheasants. From 
200 to 400 birds are turned loose each" year. Shooters al 
the traps who are sportsmen will appreciate this fact, and 
even if they do not quite reach the winning percentage, 
will "fork over" with a certain amount of satisfaction in 
knowing their money is going for a good cause. Quail 
are uncertain birds — shooting grounds within a radius of 
ten miles are replenished by this annual distribution. 
Chas. G. Blandford. 
North Carolina Quail. 
New York, Nov. 30. — Having just returned from a 
quail shooting trip in North Carolina, 1 can recommend 
to those of your readers who are interested a visit to 
Hamilton, Martin county, N. C. They will find many 
birds, dogs, and at Mr. S. W. Everitt's a pleasant host and 
hostess, very reasonable rates of board, and an easy coun- 
try to shoot over. This letter was not solicited by Mr. 
Everitt. J. E. Hindon Hyde. 
m Wfd giver S is ¥ n S* 
Proprietors of fishing and hunting resorts will find it profitable 
to advertise them in Forest and Stream. 
Lake George Bass Experience. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
You invite descriptions of shooting and fishing trips; 
and as T am tied up in the house with a bad (or good) 
cold, taken from a wet sneak-box in Chesapeake Bay, T 
am inclined to comply, provided that a little black field 
spaniel will let my slippers alone and not pull me from 
my chair. I sit in my den facing the cabinet, which 
contains my four shotguns and five rifles and the various 
accumulations of a sportsman. The various equipments 
still give out the pungent odor of a beechwood camp- 
fire in the Adirondacks. On the walls hang the trophies 
of many a hunt, and which recall many a lame back, 
sore foot, and barked shin, but it was all manly pleas- 
ure and one does not regret the pain or expense. Bet- 
ter spend your surplus cash that way than in silly at- 
tempts to be one of the boys. 
Under the circumstances it is not strange that one's 
thoughts revert to pleasant trips in the past, and that 
I am anxious to get rid of this cold, that I may catch 
another before the season is over. To get back to 
the original intention of a brief account of part of this 
season's sport, let me state that the same sawbones and 
pill peddler who is dosing me now induced me to 
take a trip to Lake George bass fishing in August. We 
arrived at the Hundred Island House Sunday noon, It 
rained Monday, and we fished off the dock. The Doc- 
tor read a prize essay on alcoholic gastritis in the even- 
ing, interspersed with comments on the conductive cir- 
cumstances which lead to the disease. My mind was 
47 J 
more taken up with the loss of four leaders and as 
many snelled hooks and one bass, We mutually decided 
lo avoid the docks and bars and devote the rest of the 
week to deep water. 
We engaged a ( steam launch from Bolton and started 
up the lake, with' tow-headed Theodore Ormsby towing 
behind, Said Ormsby will beat you out on a swap, but 
he can fish and knows the lake. Ormsby and the Doc- 
tor took the small boat and anchored off the ledge near 
Black Mountain. Three crickets for bait on a No. 1 
sproat hook; no lead, plenty of line out, and in ten 
minutes a strike that would make your heart thump. 
The fly-rod takes its finest curve and the reel shrieks; 
there is much guesswork and the final result doubt- 
ful; therein lies the sport. Thirty feet away the water 
breaks and the rod straightens as line is given. The 
reel sings again and history repeats itself. A 2lb. small 
mouth bass comes to net as No. t. The Doctor and 
Ormsby come in for lunch, and with them four fine 
black bass, one 3^1bs., two 2lbs., one s^lbs. The captain 
of the launch gets a 3^1b. beauty in the afternoon with 
his cane pole and chalk line, and I get left with my 
thirty-dollar Leonard rod and silk line. The day ends 
with 37/^lbs. of bass. I never knew of an Oswego bass 
being taken from Lake George. They are all small- 
mouthed, and the best bait for them is crickets or grass- 
hoppers. A resume of the day's sport leads me to be- 
lieve that bass hooked in the lips will be sure to break 
water; and if the bait is gorged and the hook is fast 
deep in the fish, you will not see him till he is ready 
for the net. 
Second day. The launch is on hand at 8 A. M., 
and as the Doctor's wife has arrived, we cruise in the 
northwest bay and visit Paradise Bay before fishing. 
Lake George is a beauty spot. Others have described 
it, and have done it well, I can only add that should 
I have the choice of a place of drowning I should 
select Lake George. In and out among the islands, 
with steam occasionally stopping to try some inviting 
spot, we finally anchor near the scene of yesterday's 
sport, and the Doctor is king pin again. He lands a 
5lb. bass • from the steamer before Ormsby and I are 
fairly in the boat, and upon our return he has another 
4J41bs. Ormsby has one of 3 and one of 3%. I have one 
of 2lbs. and am beaten by the Doctor's wife with one of 
2%. She can handle a fly-rod with a bass attached as 
well as Dr. Henshall. Further, she can step in the 
center of a boat and sit still after getting there. The 
skipper gets in his work again with the bean-pole and 
chalk line. There were some lost, but the net weight 
for the day was 27^1bs. 
The third day we used small boats, with indifferent 
luck. The laugh was on me for taking a 4lb. eel, believ- 
ing that I had an immense bass. The eel swallowed the 
hook to the extent of having the union of snell and 
leader out of sight. I became discouraged in endeavor- 
ing to extract the hook. The Doctor suggested that I 
cut off the eel's tail and pull the hook through the 
other way. This worked beautifully. I was highly 
pleased, and the Doctor noticed it and remarked: "You 
have a queer face — one-half of it shows appreciation, the 
other half shows astonishment that a disciple of Escu- 
lapius should comprehend the anatomy of other ani- 
mate formations than that of the genus homo." I un- 
derstood well enough that he was making fun of me and 
calling me names. I have not fished with him since. 
He still continues his professional visits, but pays more 
attention to my fly-rod than to his clinical thermometer. 
I still owe him a grudge and a bill : the first will be paid— 
the latter never. I expect some day he will put me to 
sleep with his nasty dope, and if I wake up I shall 
find the rod missing. 
The Lake George guides charge you three dollars pet- 
day, keep all your fish and whatever tackle they bor- 
row from you. W. W. Hastings. 
Piscatoribus Sacrum. 
I have a little red book — a storehouse for reminis- 
cences; it is devoted to angling and such subjects as are 
dear to the angler, and I call it "Piscatoribus Sacrum." 
Though it cannot claim, as does a certain famous book, 
to be "not unworthy the perusal of most anglers," yet 
it contains many odds and ends, among which it is al- 
ways interesting to pick about; and when I am far from 
a trout stream, arid yet long to hear the babbling water 
and to cast a fly again in the old familiar corner, I often 
pick up my little red notebook and retire in fancy to 
some distant scene of rural beauty and rising trout, there 
to linger awhile in an angler's paradise. I have often 
thought that every angler ought to keep an informal 
diary. 
How many people, I wonder, tie their own flies now- 
adays? When I read the elaborate directions given by 
such masters of the craft as Detached Badger, I find my- 
self wondering how any one has the time, tbe patience, 
or the eyesight, not to mention the fingers. I have 
no doubt that he has succeeded in stimulating the desire 
of many, and in inspiring the desire into more, to dress 
their own flies. But I suspect that, when artificial flies 
can be bought so beautifully made, and at such reasonable 
prices as they can be to-day, few amateurs find it worth 
their while to dress them for themselves. I have al- 
ways been immensely tickled by Ephemera's parting cast 
in his edition of "The Complete Angler": "He who shall 
not be able to make a trout fly, after studying these dia- 
grams and directions, must be deficient either in brains 
or in manual dexterity." But that was penned before 
the days of higher education, when trout were less 
particular. Indeed, there are many streams now, I do 
not say chalk streams, where the trout prefer the rougher 
kinds of flies, and where neatness of finish is not al- 
ways by any means an advantage. 
From flies to postage stamps may seem a wide jump, 
but, opening at random, I have come across a Portu- 
guese stamp issued in 1895 to commemorate the festival 
of St. Anthony. The saint is depicted standing by the 
edge of the water preaching to the fish, which listen with 
eager noses thrust out of the water, just as if they were 
"smutting" on a warm evening in August. Again, 
proverbs are a great source of comfort to many people. 
They so often save them the tremble of thinking, the 
