162 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Seven Sportsmen, Seven Springs, 
Seven Hundred Dollars, 
Seven Quail. 
We met at the Old Dominion Line dock, in New 
York city. When the good ship Roanoke glided out 
into the stream at 3 P. M. we had started for the 
North Carolina quail shambles. We shambled home 
later after having butchered seven quail all told. The 
trip cost the writer approximately $100 of borrowed 
money, and unquestionably cost the others the same. 
Yet we were a happy lot. As the boat started our 
literary one-seventh quoted, "She starts, she moves, 
she seems to feel the thrill of life along her keel." Then 
arose a discussion as to the origin of the words. The 
one-seventh claimed that Longfellow's "Launching of 
the Ship" was a plagiarism ■. claimed that the words 
were first used Avhen the girl slipped up in her first 
atlempt to skate. That point settled, each began to 
tell the others what he thought he knew about ships 
that the others did not. A seventh son of a seventh 
son could not be more profound than each thought 
himself. On general principles it is best not' to call 
names, yet I cannot resist the desire to state that 
the . genial vice-president of the Old Dominion Line, 
W. A, Guillaudeu, was one of the party. I regret to 
state, however, that he did not shoot a thing; that he 
broke the stock of his gun and got angry at a purp. 
He deserved better luck. Let him know when you 
go South on his line and you will own the boat- 
In due time what is called supper in Boston, dinner 
in New York, was available, and an appetite that 
reached from Cape May to New York was speedily sat- 
isfied by direct contact with an excellent cuisine. Afttr 
supper we gathered on deck and talked about guns. 
One brought out a Lancaster, another a Greener, an- 
other spoke up for the Parker, while I exploited a 
Daly. The rest said that any old gun would do. I 
trotted out a Scott, 8-bore, under lever, i3^1bs., 36in. 
barrelj the tinest thing that my gundealers ever 
charged. W. A. said, "What in the mischief -did you 
bring that for?" "For quail," I told him. "You will 
blow a whole count}' out of the State," said he. Then 
I told them that I had 781bs. of shells for it, and they 
were down in the hold for ballast; also that I had a 
revolver and bowie knife, fishing rod, three coats, two 
pairs boots, a lot of other duffle and a quart of Ante- 
diluvian. Toward the last they admired my judgment. 
'Tis a good idea to carry all you have. It is fun to 
Jug two guns, loolbs. of shells and a lot of clothing 
around on a hot day. Another thing, the countrymen 
think that you are well fixed. 
The ocean was as still as a mill pond. Th» moon— oh, 
never mind, I am growing old. We turned in about 12 
P. M., turned out at 6 A. M. The first thing I saw 
in the morning was the name of Adam Phool on the 
clean white paint of the stateroom. He had registered 
all right, pedigree and everything. There is taste in all 
things; some show the most away from h6me. The 
mill pond had been dropped behind and we were 
"rocked in the cradle of the deep." We came out on 
deck and walked around sideways with out backs against 
the deck housing, with our feet apart and well to star- 
board. Some of the crew were heaving lead, some of the 
passengers their breakfast. The latter is a case of the 
weaker being the stronger. W. A. was gathering all 
stray newspapers and magazines. Upon inquiry I found 
that it was his intention to throw them out as we passed 
Cape Charles, in order that the lighthouse keepers 
might enjoy the reading matter. A signal from the 
steamer's whistle caused a boat with two occupants 
to put out from the lighthouse. They obtained the 
literature, and W. A. was happy. At times we saw stray 
ducks, and they became more numerous as we ap- 
proached the bay. The gulls followed the boat in tan- 
dem to pick up what the cooks discarded. My field 
cannon was on deck, and the skipper made a splendid 
shot at a flying mallard, which was also gathered in by 
the lighthouse keeper. 
We made a landing at Old Point Comfort and Nor- 
folk, and then passed over to Pinnar's Point, where we 
took the cars. There were many colored men around 
and they seemed to be a cheerful and well-disposed 
lot. It is after they have hung around a Park Row bean- 
ery a year or two when they travel with an alias and with 
a pocket full of razors and talk "Come 7, come 11," 'that 
one does not care to affiliate with them. You can pick 
up as much quaint humor down South as among the 
lakes of Killarney. The cars and the afternoon sped 
away, and darkness came on. I was wrapped up in my 
thoughts and three coats, and shading my eyes against 
the window I watched the negro cabin lights as we 
passed through the cofmtry. The cabins were all alike — 
311st a door in the front center, a stone chimney outside 
at one end, with a fireplace inside. The rattle of the 
cars called the occupants to the doors, and the light 
from the fire of pine knots flickered through the pick- 
aninnies' legs, while the tall forms of the parents were 
in silhouette. The children seemed to wear but little 
covering— possibly a fig leaf — 1_ could not tell, the train 
went fast and the light was dim. 
Late in the evening we arrived at the depot at King- 
ston, N. C- Our advance agent had done his work 
well, inasmuch as every public conveyance in town was 
there to meet us, and the populace was on the street 
eager to see the circus when it touched the town. After 
supper and a discussion as to the advisability of frying 
all kinds of food, we retired to dream the dreams of the 
innocent and virtuous. 
In the morning all the shooters in town (both gun 
and crap) had assembled to cheer us on. Each of the 
former proffered us advice and something in the way of 
a dog. We compromised by taking one. The latter 
importuned us, and we finally gave them the shake. We 
were loaded in two wagons, and the colored porter "took 
up the white man's burden" and stored our dunnage 
under the seat> 
We had three dogs of our own, and with the Kings- 
ton addition we were apparently well supplied. A few 
miles out we came to a spot where we thought a covey 
of quail might exist, so we cleared decks for action. 
W. A. led ofif with the Kingston pup, and the pup started 
for home. W. A. tried to head him off, but the beast 
gained a lap. W. A. shied his gun at him, tripped over 
a cotton bush and disappeared between the rows. One 
of the party let a charge of No. 10 shot fly at our 
Kingston friend, and his motions were accelerated by 
forced draft, and he seemed to shorten by a foot 
from the rear. Whether he reached Kingston head on or 
not we never knew. 
The fields were covered with cat briers and sedge 
grass, and we were "high steppers" like the Pirates 
of Penzance. We disturbed a covey of quail and they 
disappeared like rockets; not a gun was fired. We were 
a fine trio — a novice, a sluggard and a darn fool. One 
admitted the situation was novel to him, another sairl 
he was too slow for that work; by the way the dog- 
looked at me I assume that I was a fit subject for the 
third appellation. The dog could not be induced to stay 
with us longer, and went over to his master and kept 
with him thereafter. We moved ofi^. each determined that 
the next chance would be improved. There was a dis- 
turbance in the grass ahead, and a bird arose. Six 
shots went off in as many directions, and the bird, a little 
thing, _ went off in another. Ashamed to look each 
other in the face, we separated, and I accidentally met 
one of the trio later at a creek. Inasmuch as I had on 
top boots I offered to carry him across.. Grasping 
him around the knees, we started over, while he took 
off my cap and fondly patted my bald head. "Familiar- 
ity breeds contempt." I slipped on a slimy stone and 
dumped my burden, then went down myself to rescue him 
from a watery grave.. We scrambled ashore, and I. 
asked him why he did not hang on. '"Hang on to 
what?" was the reply. "There is no capillary attrac- 
tion in a bald head." To be thus twitted of physical 
defects seemed unkind, yet he was my friend, for he 
always had stocks that he wished me to possess on a low 
margin. If they were with him then I had watered 
them sure enough. Gun stocks are all that I own, and 
are near enough to Consolidated Gas and National Lead 
to stampede a bear when a bull is not made of it. The 
others brought in four quail. One had evidently died 
from fright, another had been dead a week or more, and 
the other two flew into W. A.'s pocket for safety and 
had suffocated. The three required to make the seven 
were claimed by the aforementioned "literary cuss" and 
probably had a legendary and mythological origin, be- 
cause we never saw them. 
In due time we reached the wagons, and started for 
the hotel at Seven Springs. On the way we came 
across a persimmon tree bearing much fruit, while 
the ground bore more. After an endeavor to partake 
of the fruit, and because my mouth was puckered so that 
I could not pronounce "truly rural," the others judged 
that I was on the verge of incipient paresis. Well, we 
reached the hotel at Seven Springs — the only building 
in the vicinity of said springs, There were seven of 
them, and very likely were dug by the delicate fingers 
of Hygeia while her papa, Esculapius, stood by with 
packages labeled "Asafcetida." "Bisulphide of Carbon," 
"Iodoform," "Ipecac," "Bichloride of Mercury." "Cyanide 
of Potassium," and "Nux Vomica." They all say that 
wonderful cures have been brought about by the use of 
these waters. They say that an external application 
from one spring will cure anything from a birthmark 
to deformed feet. Another one is a certain sure 
cure' for something else, and all combined they will 
cure everything. What a home this would make for 
Lucretia Borgia. 
There was an ancient mule in the yard, and loving 
animals, I interviewed him. His ears swayed with the 
west wind, his lower lip hung pendant and apart from 
its mate and met only when tickled by flies. His gen- 
eral appearance denoted senility, and while I felt sorry 
for him, I wondered why he had no pride of ancestry 
or hope of progenjr. I approached closer for a more 
intimate acquaintance with this pensive hybrid, and a 
darky's voice sang out, "Git awar from dat muel; he'll 
kick the belly offen yer." He did not, but a pair of 
steel-jacketed projectiles went by with a high trajectory, 
great initial velocity and presumably great penetration. 
He had pressed a button— I had done the rest, and came 
near getting a puncture, and no repair kit on the place. 
The next day, wishing to be alone, and considering 
the pace of the others and the weather too hot for me, I 
strolled away, taking my gun, a rubber drinking cup 
and some pilot bread in lieu of a compass. Down 
near the Neuse River I saw what I imagined might be 
Poe's "Raven" perched not on a bust of Pallas, but high 
up on a decayed cj'press. I recited a few verses from 
Edgar's best work, with no apparent eft'ect upon the 
bird. Then I shot at him and remarked, "That the 
feathers flew if nothing more; sail, 3^ou buzzard, for the 
other shore; if I see you again I'll make you sore with 
the leaden hail of this 12-bore." Shrieked the bu.zzard, 
"An open door." He had evident!}'- been watching a fish 
that had turned turtle in the river below, and I presume 
that when the fish became gamy enough to suit his 
fastidious taste he returned for lunch. One need not 
g-Q to Europe to find "something rotten in Denmark"; 
go South, get an introduction to a turkey buzzard, and 
go slumming with him. 
My wanderings led me along the water}^ labyrinths 
of this sluggish yet turbid stream, by towering cypresses, 
looming like masts against the sky, by deep dells, shady 
and cool, rich under foot with rank grass, spongy green 
moss and ferns, while overhead among the branches 
of the oaks, cypresses and palmettoes hung gray festoons 
of Spanish moss. On the upland, where the frost had 
free access, the bright hues of the autumn foliage had 
changed to a rusty brown. In the openings of the 
forest the blackbirds hovered in clouds; on the shores 
of the river the meadowlarks fluttered from the stem of 
one dead weed to another. A startled rabbit caused a 
startled dreamer to ejaculate, "Geie!" Brer Rabbit 
stopped altogether instead of geeing. I was about to 
shoot when it occurred to me that it might be unlawful. 
Having a copy of the North Carolina game coramand- 
m'&nU with me, I a'djuStte'd my glks^es fd lofo'k up -the 
law in the case, supposing of course that the cottontail 
v\^ould wait for the decision. I found that I had the 
right, and when about to exercise it I could not find 
the rabbit. He had obtained a change of venue. An- 
other time I'll shoot first and look up the law after- 
ward. 
Breaking out through the dense undergrowth, I came 
suddenly to a small clearing and saw a woman struggling 
to roll a small bale of cotton into a cart, Near at 
hand was a dingy cabin, leaning against a corner of 
which was something in the shape of a man and seemingly 
indifferent to the woman's exertions or efforts. I 
thought they must be of the race known as "poor 
whites." I put aside my gun, boosted the cotton aboard 
and asked her what she had that stick in her mouth for. 
I found out that it was a snuff-dipping process, and had 
an offer to try a new bad habit. "Not to-day. thank you; 
when I try it I'll furnish the outfit myself." I talked 
with her a while, gave her some loose silver pieces and 
a pair of new linen handkerchiefs that a thoughtful wife 
had packed in my grip. She seemed grateful, so I left 
her, to see his majesty at the cabin corner. "Hello, 
old man," said I, "this is a good farming country." 
His reply came slowly and stupidly, "Reckon so, but it 
is hell on women and mules." Oh, the lank eluffer; I 
wanted to punch him, but did not dare to. I gave him a 
withering look, but he did not wither perceptibly. He 
was six-sevenths drunk, and I thought tha^t another 
drink and a substantial' kick would knock him out. " 
His eyes were mild even unto weakness; he wore a full 
beard, full of tobacco juice, dust and parasites; , hair 
was growing in his ears and grass under his finger 
nails; too lazy to scratch himself where he itched or to 
get away from a bonfire in July; he was as worthless a 
commodity as a can of^swiU in August; nevertheless 
an. American citizen, with the right to pack caucuses 
^nd to vote either ticket. I asked him if he could sing 
"Ben Bolt," what he thought of the soap trust, and if 
he really believed -that "cleanliness was akin to godli- 
ness." . There were no children about. The theory 
of the survival of the fittest is good, and it may be well 
that _the species is not perpetuated. 
I felt tired and left him. Pigs roam aimlessly around 
this country, and seemingly have no homes or owners. 
You run across them in the most inaccessible places 
and far from any habitation. In stepping from a fallen 
log I stepped upon one of these sleeping porkers. Heels 
and heads changed places; the stars twinkled merrily 
for a few moments, and singular to relate, when I had 
caught my breath my coat had caught fire by the ignition 
of a box of matches that had been crushed by the fall. 
The pig came back and sang to me, "Nero fiddled while 
Rome burned." I wondered what breed these pigs 
might be. Maybe razorbacks or peccaries; maybe the 
game hogs you read of so often; anyway, one of them 
came near killing more than he ought. 
It was the habit of the others to play cards in rfie 
evening — old maid, I presume. The game did not in- 
terest me, so I employed a rJarky (call him Jake) to 
gather all the coon dogs and their owners in the neigh- 
borhood for a moonlight hunt for the festive coon. 
Unknown to the cithers, I sneaked away and met the 
gang down in the valley. Stumbling through the 
brush, faUing into dark holes, bumping into trees, etc., 
for a while, we finally let go the dogs, and the fim began. 
In proportion as the dogs wailed, so did the darkies 
become excited. I chased Jakey's lantern around until 
I was puiting like a donkey engine. After a while the 
dogs changed the song and Jakey said, "Dasc treed him, 
suah!" We came to the dogs finally and found them 
trying to climb the tree, falling backward repeatedly 
and trying again. We roped the beasts, and it was my 
pleasant duty to attempt to hold two of the worst while 
the boys chopped down the tree. My instructions were 
to hang on until the tree fell, then let go everything. 
Manfully I tried to do it, yet I was pulled here and 
there, bitten and scratched, rolled in the mud and 
mixed up in a dog fight. With a crash the tree was 
down, and six dogs, as many darkies and one little 
coon were scrapping together in the fallen tree top. The- 
battle surged my way. I was tripped, the lantern was 
smashed and Egypt's glague was about us. I know 
little of the vocal capacity of the howling Dervishes, 
but if they can .outdo a band of Carolina coast darkies 
they are proficient. Between the dogs and the darkies 
the coon was captured, or at least the pieces were, and 
we returned to the hotel. It was after midnight, and 
Jake persuaded me to assist him in a raid upon the 
hotel hen house. I had never enjoyed the delights of 
chicken stealing, therefore improved the opportunit3'. 
Jake captured his and carried it h ome. After securing 
a noble rooster, I went to our quarters in the long, shed- 
like addition to the hotel. The latch strings were al- 
ways out, so I threw the bird on to the bed of two of 
my sleeping companions and immediately returned to 
my own room. Pandemonium raged in the next room. 
There was a howling of bird dogs, smashing of crock- 
ery, the men's angry voices alternating with the crow- 
ing of the chanticleer. Satisfied with my day's mis- 
chief, I slept soundly until morning. There being no 
illicit stills to raid, and there being no prospect of 
creating a race riot, two of us separated from the re- 
mainder and brought up in Goldsboro, N. C.that evening. 
We had stopped at La Grange long enough to see a fly- 
ing steer, which was attached to a negro's cart, dash up 
the road with head bent, tail erect. We saw the pick- 
aninies spilled out from the cart and distributed along 
the road like the links of a chain of thought. The cart 
went around the corner on one wheel. The wife was 
hugging the husband, the husband hugging the seat, and 
the whole outfit hugging the pole. 
We arrived at Havre de Grace the next day, and after 
proper arraagements there was a fine prospect of utiliz- 
ing the 8-bore gun. "But that is another story," as 
Mr. Kipling says. W. W. H.a.stings. 
New York City. 
A eoat-of-arms adopted for Deer Island, the site of 
Boston's reformatory, has a deer's Iiead above the motto 
"Strong yet Mild." \ 
The Forest and Stream is put to press each week on Tuesday. 
Correspondence intended for publication should reac"h ug at t'Be 
late'gt by Mto'nday and as rau'di earJfer as practic&bl'& 
