228 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[March 25, 1899. 
crossed without incident. The wind died away, and it 
was after 9 when Hotel de Siwash was reached. 
The latter part of the way we had only what is termed 
in that country an "ash breeze'' (oars ol white ash). 
Our deer, which Hunt lovingly embraced as his sal- 
vation from a bacon and fish diet, was hung in state in 
the mess-house. And the jovial old chap spread him- 
self that night for a dinner such as had never been eaten 
at Dall Head. The storm which delayed us had kept 
our friends as well, and just before supper a vollev of 
shots from the bay bespoke their arrival. 
Hunt is wintering up there now; and I will guarantee 
that as he sits and smokes before the fireplace at the 
further end of the big house there still rings in his ears 
the echoes of .that night with the "Bo.ston"push." 
E. W. Shaw. 
My Big BuIL 
It had long been my ambition to kill a big bull elk. I 
had tried hard for him on my two previous trips to the 
Rockies, but fate seemed to be against me. for although 
the other members of our party in each case got heads, 
with less work and certainly much less zest than I ex- 
hibited, I had never been successful. And now it was 2 
o'clock on the last day ot our third trip, and, disgusted 
with m3'self and everyone else, I had resolved to stay in 
camp. It was really my fault this time, I thought. I had 
had a beautiful shot at a grand big bull on the fi st day 
out and had missed ignominiously. Besides, what was 
the use of going again, when we had not seen so much as 
a fresh track for four days. But my guide felt differently. 
"Come, Harry," he said, "don't give up so easy; we'll 
jnet ride up to the lake and watch a while for him to 
come and have a drink." To cheer me up the more he 
saddled up a pack horse "to carry home the head on," 
he said, but he did not expect to use him for such a pur- 
pose any more than I did. 
The lake to which Johnny referred lay in a narrow 
valley, with sides rising rather steeply for a short dis- 
tance and then selving up more gradually to the top. 
Looking up the valley the left slope was covered with 
thick spruce trees, and to tlie right fairly open, but sprin- 
kled here and there with clumps of qualdng-asp, whose 
little leaves shivered at the slightest breeze. The lake 
itself was about looyds broad, there being a large spring 
on the left or nordi side near the edge of the spruce. 
From this spring rose a rock some Soft, high, over which 
led a steep trail. And it was toward this rock that we 
started, intending from there to watch for elk coming to 
'the spring to drink. We found the trail up the gulch so 
slippery that we had to leave our horses at (he bottom 
and walk up. Our excitement ma)^ be imagined when 
we saw on striking the trail that three big bears had 
passed and were but a very little way ahead of us, as the 
water had not yet collected in their tracks. We trailed 
them to the spring, and as they entered the thick woods, 
but here we thought it better not to follow further, so we 
climbed up (he rock and sat down to wait, one on. each 
side, behind some bushes at the top. 
An hour dragged by and we saw nothing. I was be- 
ginning to wish that we had kept on after the bears. 
What chance was there of their coming back? Then 
suddenly I heard a rustle m the woods opposite me. I 
turned my head quicklj', hnt saw nothing. Tn a minute 
there was another, and another rustle, each from a differ- 
ent place, and then all was still again, and I could hear 
only my heart banging away in ray breast and the soft 
click-click, as I threw a cartridge into the barrel of my 
rifle. Now I heard them again, sometimes separately, 
sometimes all together, but steadily coming closer and 
closer. "The three bears!" I' thought; "and they will 
come back up the trail right over me." Should T call 
Johnny ? No, I would try it by myself. I looked back over 
ray shoulder, nevertheless, to see if he was in sight, but 
no Johnny could I see. I turned quickly back as I heard 
another noise, and there I saw, not a bear, but the great 
white hindquarters of an elk. This was all there was; 
just one big hindleg, and I could not tell whether it was 
a bull or a cow. It certainly looked big enough to be 
a bull, but everything assumes gigantic proportions when 
one is in the condition that I was in. There it stood, it 
seemed to me, a full five minutes, and then disappeared 
slowly behind a big fallen tree and all was still again. 
I waited to see him reappear, but he had probably 
smelt rae, as he did not so much as break a twig. I was 
just about to crawl over to tell Johnny, when I felt a 
touch on my shoulder, and turning saw him pointing up 
the lake, where two cow elk were just entering the bushes 
which grew thickly over the bottom of the gulch. 
"There's eight or ten," he whispered: "been wallerin'. 
Oh! but there's a daisy amongst 'em." 
I told him what I had seen, but he decided to follow 
this last herd, which did not suspect us, especially as 
we knew there was a big bull with them. So we started 
down the little hill and past the spring, past the "wallow," 
and then sometimes on hands and knees, sometimes 
crawling and writhing i^at on the ground, we made our 
way through the tangle of roots and bushes to the open- 
ing where we had last seen our game. Just as we 
reached here, from the timber on the hillside the old bull 
"bugled." To one hearing this for the first time and 
from a distance, it is one of the most beautiful sounds 
imaginable. Rising clear from the silence of the for- 
est, it floats along with purer note than ever man can 
make, then gradually descends and dies away into still- 
ness again. 
We immediately started after him, easily pickmg his 
track from the rest of the band by its size and deep im- 
pression. Every few minutes, now, he "bugled," some- 
times seemingly but looft. or so ahead; but owing to the 
ejctreme thickness of the spruce we could never catch 
sight of him. Thus we followed him for almost a mile, 
I "stumbling over logs in my efforts to walk quietly, 
and. breaking twigs and branches at every step, and 
Johnny steahng noiselessly ahead, with his eyes on the 
big bull's tracks. The high altitude makes it extremely 
Hard for one unaccustomed to it to walk fast for any 
distance, and so I had to call a halt to get my breath. 
As we were about to start on again the bull "bugled" 
from the open hillside on our right, and we started at 
full speed down the hill expecting that now we would 
surely catch sight of him. As we reached the bottom 
we hear4 him again, but the echo made it extremely 
hard to tell from what direction the sound came. I still 
thought he was on the right side, but Johnny said he 
had crossed back into the spruce, so we started up hill 
again on the run, Johnny carrying m.y rifle. We went 
on for about looyds., when of a sudden the "bugle" came 
again, the direction unmistakable this tune. I turned, 
and there he stood in plain sight across the valley 30oycls. 
away, his head and antlers held high, looking over at us 
and "bugling." Johnny gave me my rifle, and I put it to 
ray shoulder, but the last run had so taken my breath 
that the sight swam round and round and the rifle barrel 
described great circles in my vain efforts to steady it. 
But suddenly it flashed across me that this was the last 
day of the hunt, it was 5:30 in the afternoon, and here was 
the chance I had been hoping and longing for so long. 
What would I think of myself if I missed? So I drew a 
long breath, tightened every muscle in my body, drew 
the front sight just behind his shoulder, pulled the trigger 
and at the report tumbled over in a heap in the spruce 
needles. The bull threw back his head, bounded quickly 
up the hill and disappeared in a clump of quaking-asps. 
I couldn't have fired again to save my life, 
Johnny picked up my gun and started down through 
the trees, shouting, "Come on! come on! you may get 
another chance !" So summoning what little strength 
I had left I followed him. 
When we reached the other side of the quaking-asps 
we looked for the elk, but there was no elk in sight, and 
I turned questioningly to Johnny, but Johnny only gave 
that quiet smile of his and pointed to a brandi sticking 
up out of the grass 50yds. further on, and as I looked, it 
dawned upon me what that branch really was, and that 
beneath it lay the great white body that I had coveted 
so long. H. S, D., Jr. 
A Trip for Venison. 
On Nov. 10, 1869, I left the qniet village of Hartford, 
Van Buren county, Mich., taking my lo-gauge steel 
double-barreled shotgun and an i8in. gauge .44cal. thun- 
derbolt carbine, and drove twelve miles northwest into 
what was known as the Fish neighborhood, in the town- 
ship of Deerfield, which was at that time an almost un- 
broken wilderness, where wild turkeys, deer and red 
fox were very plent}^. After going to within two miles 
of Lake Michigan on a newly cut road I came to a log- 
house just built, in front of which a young man about 
twenty-five years of age was cutting wood. I asked 
him if I could get board for a day or two, as I wanted to 
hunt. He said he would board me if I could put up with 
his accommodations, as he did his ovvn cooking. I told 
him I thought I could stand it for a day or two if he did 
all the time, so he told me to go into the house, it being 
about night, and quite cool, and as soon as he got that 
tree cut up he'd come in and get supper. 
During the evening he related to me the number of deer 
he had seen in various places in the immediate neigh- 
borhood, and I inquired of. him the best place for me to 
go the next morning to find a deer. He said Thunder 
Mountain was directlj' west about a mile and right on the 
edge of the lake. I found that Thunder Moimtain was 
a big, round-topped sandhill of more than ordinary 
height, so called from the rumbling sound, like distant 
thunder, which came from it at times. Just north of the 
mountain was Clay Cliff, a nearly perpendicular chff. 
North of this was what was known as the big sand-slide, 
caused by tlic constant blowing of the wind from the 
lake, blowing the sand in different directions, ever chang- 
ing form. 
My host, Mr. Smith, told me that the Carpenter boys, 
who lived about three miles from there, and kept three 
or four hounds, were always driving deer into the lake. 
He said the deer invariably took the route from the tim- 
ber to the water over these ..sand drifts, where the shifi- 
ing sand effaced all trace of their tracks. There was 
another sand-slide two miles north of this, and the deer 
were driven to water almost daily through one or the 
other, for the dogs hunted even if the men did not. He 
said in all probability, if. I stood at the foot of the big 
slide I'd get a shot at the deer before ro o'clock the next 
morning. He had an old hound, so he said he'd take 
his dog and start him after a deer, who would drive the 
deer to the lake even if it took him all day. But he had 
not time to hunt, and after starting the dog he Would 
have to come back to his work. He gave me a lunch of 
johnny-cake and bacon, and I took my guns and started 
for the foot of the sand-slide. 
A sharp walk of half an hour brought me to the beach 
of Lake Michigan. I had followed the valley of a little 
stream known as Stony Creek, wliich emptied into the 
lake just south of the Ijase of Thunder Knob. A walk 
of a half-mile north along the beach brought me to the 
foot of the sand-slide. I unslung my carbine and hung 
it on the big root of a pine stump which had been washed 
ashore and was nearly covered with sand, and got ready 
to shiver, for the wind was in the northwest and the 
breakers ran mountain high. The day was cold and 
chilly, and the roar of those mighty waves was enough 
to drown the rumble of a thousand cars. 
I had stood there perhaps an hour, and was longing to 
see the graceful bounds of a fleet-footed deer, when I 
heard a strange noise in the water behind me. Turning, 
I saw within four or five rods of me a large buck wading 
out of the water and shaking himself. Knowing that he 
had been run into the lake away north and drifted south 
with the wind, and was chilled by cold of wind and water, 
I sat my shotgun against the pine root, took down the 
carbine and let the gallant old fellow get to where the 
water was about knee-deep; then there was a sharp crack 
of the carbine and the noble deer was dead. I felt al- 
most ashamed that I had killed an innocent beast, which 
was so chilled and exhausted that it had not noticed rae. 
But setting down my carbine I took hold of the great 
antlers and drew him out of the surf. I had just finished 
bleeding him when glancing up the beach to the north I 
saw three men and two dogs coming toward m.e. I 
thought that they were the men and dogs who had driven 
the deer into the lake. 
They approached and said: "Well, friend, you've 
killed a nice deer; our dogs drove him into the lake two 
miles north of here two hours ago, and we have been 
watching for him ever since. Had he got oyt of the 
WS-ter when you sl^pt him?" 
"The water where 1 shot him was about knee-deep." 
"According to the rules of we lake hunters he's our 
deer. If you had let him come out of the water above 
where the breakers wet, he'd have been your deer." 
"What kind of a law is that?" 
"The rules of all hunters on the beach of the lake.. 
The deer belongs to the dogs as long as he is in the 
water." 
"That's a mighty little crack to crawl out through." 
"If you doubt our word, ask any man who hunts along 
the beach, and if he don't say we're right, the deer is 
yours." 
I asked their names. They replied: "Carpenter 
brothers; we live about one and a half miles from here." 
Thereupon they took the deer and dragged it away up the 
beach and out of .sight. I felt like a boy who has been 
chastised in school Avhen he knew the other fellow de- 
served it. I thought of all the law and gospel I'd ever 
i-ead, and I could find no law to justify such an act. 
They outranked in numbers, and I had to acknowledge 
that under some circumstances might made right. I 
stood by the lone pine root and watched them until they 
disappeared around a point of the bluff. After they were 
out of sight, with my eyes still fixed on tlie point round 
which they disappeared, I saw three deer come down to 
the water. I wondered if Smith's old hound was yet 
alive, and thought I'd never shoot another deer in Lake 
Michigan. I watched the deer as they ran out, seeming 
to dread those mighty breakers. In a few moments I 
discovered that they were coming toward me, running 
in the surf. As they came nearer I could see their beau- 
tiful eyes and ears, and hoped they'd turn from the water 
on to the sand. Nearer and nearer they came, and my 
heart fairly jumped as I thought what I could do to get 
them from the water. As they neared I made a quick 
move from the pine root toward the lake myself. As I 
did so, the doe and two fawns ran out on to the dry sand. 
There were sharp, quick reports from the No. 10 shotgun 
and the -beautiful doe and one fawn lay on the beach, 
Quickly putting down the shotgun and catching the car- 
bine from the root as the other fawn made two or three 
quick leaps, then turned to see where the others were, the 
report of the carbine was heard and the fawn's body 
rolled down the steep cliff toward those of its compan- 
ions. Cutting their throats I quickly reloaded and set the 
guns against the root, and drawing the deer close began 
dressing them. Looking up the beach to the north, 1 
saw the same party of men and dogs approaching. Be- 
. fore they had time to challenge my right to these deer 
I said: "I let them all land." They said: "Yes, we 
saw them from the time they entered the water, and saw 
you kill them. We Jiave returned to help you dress and 
hang them up, and want to know what gun you have." 
They did not see that I had changed guns, and the three 
shots were in such quick succession they marveled at 
it. They said they never saw a shotgun that would kill 
a deer instantly before. As we stood talking they were 
facing the north and 1 the south. I saw a stone roll 
dqwn from the bluff just south of us, and looking up saw 
a spike-horned buck come into view; and as he made a 
leap to, come down the steep bank I took my gun and 
said: "Now, see." As I spoke I shot, and the buck 
came tumbling down. dead. He was followed by .Smith's 
old hound and was indisputably my game. The men 
whom I at first suspected of meanness had shown them- 
selves to be gentlemen, and after hanging up all four of 
my deer we separated. 
I returned to Smith's home and reached it in good sea- 
son for supper. T related my day's experience, and he 
said he should have told me of the rules regulating the 
neighboring hunters. After supper he took his yoke 
of .steers and stoneboat and went for my deer. The next 
day I had a chance to ride in with my booty on a wagon 
which was coming to Hartford for supplies. Only those 
famihar with pioneer days can understand the rejoicing 
when I reached home after so short an absence with four 
fine deer. Sullivan Cook. 
Michigan. 
Concerning an Epithet/' 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
On the editorial page of the Forest and Stream for 
March 18, there appeared a well-written — that goes with- 
out saying — article on that most despicable type of the 
genus homo, known in common parlance as the "game 
hog." As a reader of Forest and Stream from almost 
the initial number up to that issued March 18 of this year 
I always have, and do still consider that paper one of the 
grandest exponents of game protection and preserva- 
tion; hence it is an unpleasant task to take exception 
to any item in its columns, more especially when that 
item is the product of the editor's quill. The item to 
which I refer is in. my humble judgment one that comes 
dangerously close to a defense, or at least a palliation of 
the ways and methods of those so-called sportsmen who 
take more of the public's game than fair-play sportsman- 
ship would warrant. Had the article to which I refer 
appeared in any of the papers devoted to general topics, 
no great harm would have been done; but its appearance 
in Forest and Stream will perhaps be instrumental in 
causing some, or possibly many, "game hogs" who were 
beginning to see the error of their ways, to retrograde to 
the "kill-all-you-can" idea. 
I may be a trifle old-fashioned in my ways; if so, my 
education — want of it, perhaps — is to blame ; but in years 
gone by I was taught to call a spade a spade; and in the 
part of the country where I grew up and learned to , shoot 
we had a habit — inelegant, perhaps — of calling a man 
who committed larceny a thief. When a man stole any 
of his neighbor's cash or 'property we did not say that 
he was color-blind and unable to distinguish between his 
own or his neighbor's hens or horses; didn't even call 
him a kleptomaniac; just a plain, common, everyday 
thief. When a man in our locality, under the unchris- 
tian plea of "business is business," robbed or oppressed 
his neighbor, or exacted to the utmost his "pound of 
flesh," even from the widowed and the fatherless, we 
had the uncouth habit of calling that person a hog — ^not 
a. swinish individual, nor a Mosaic outcast, but just a 
plain hog — not an elegant tei-m, we must admit, but the 
only one that completely filled the bill, without wasting 
wind nr printer's iolc, , . _ . .as^I^m} 
