26 FOREST AND STREAM. (Jvly ^, 
accoiiUteid oite-of the most enthusiastic spoftstnen on the 
coast, and said, "Well, how about shooting; been doing 
any lately?" "No; the fact is," said he, "I am beginning 
to think as I grow older that shooting after all is a 
cruel thing, and I am conscious of a growing repug- 
nance to taking life." , .1 was surprised to hear such 
sentiments from the last man of my acquaintance whom 1 
suspected of such views. 
As I say, I find myself taking less and less interest in 
shooting, and the dust of many moons rests upon my 
guns on their racks; but I have abated naught in my 
enthusiasm for fishing— somewhat inconsistent, no doubt. 
There is a distinction, if not a dif?erence; and I satisfy 
my conscience by adopting the views of scientists, who 
assert that fish are not sensible to pain as are birds and 
animals, the proof of this being the fact that after being 
hooked and escaping, they will bite again. Take, for 
instance, the shark, who, after being hauled on deck and 
having been ripped open and thrown overboard, will 
follow the bait again with his entrails trailing behind. 
All sailors will corroborate this assertion. Besides, the 
true sportsman always kills his fish immediately, and 
there is no lingering suffering. No doubt T shall be 
laughed at for this not very nice distinction perhaps 
between shooting and fishing, but it is a compromise 
that satisfies my conscience, until I change my views or 
the fishing becomes too poor to be an object, which I 
trust will not be the case for many a day — not, at least, 
as long as I am able to follow a good trout stream. 
PODGERS. 
Just About a Boy ♦—XXII* 
There was a new, clean smell in the air wheii we rode 
away from Ward's cabin under the snappy stars, and 
there was that peculiar stillness which comes into the night 
just before the gray of dawn. So it was a silent cavalcade 
of dim forms, conversing but little, and that little in very 
low tones, that rode toward the dim, dark bulk across the 
the northern sky which I knew to be the red buttes where 
the Bad Lands came down and ended against the plain. 
In due time we reached a spot where a few scraggly 
cedars grew and tied our horses there, going on afoot to 
the hillside above the spring, where Ward thought we 
should get a deer without much trouble when they came 
down to drink about dajdight. Objects were still only 
dim blots in the general scheme of darkness when we 
four settled down among the rocks and began our watch 
that was to end in killing a big buck.- 
If anyone spoke now it was in a whisper and the com- 
fort of a pipe was out of the question, for game can scent 
tobacco smoke a good bit further than they can the men 
who make it. 
Ike had picked a special pomt of vantage for the boy, 
and had taken him under his special c-are, to be initiated 
into the mysteries of big game shooting, while Phd and 
I sat among the boulders a short distance away, talkmg 
of old times. 
This was too difficult to continue m a whispermg con- 
versation of any great length, so we soon became mere 
motionless, but watchful, bits of the landscape, and re- 
mained as such tmtil a cheeping call such as a young 
grouse makes turned our eyes toward big Ike. 
A pantomine followed, in which Ike told us by signs 
that three deer were advancing toward the spring below 
us, though objects were hardly yet more than patches of 
darkness in the grav dawn, which had now snuffed out all 
but the morning s'tar. Phil and I soon had the deer 
located as they moved against a patch of quakmg asp, and 
then saw a little later that there was a very small buck 
and two does in company. Again Ike chirped, and again 
there was pantomine, which said, "Let them go ; we will 
get a bigger buck for the kid." Slowly the deer loitered 
along, nipping at the fresh herbage, lookmg, listening, al- 
ways alert, and slowlv advancing toward the spring, and 
before the sun was up they had dipped their pretty noses 
into the clear water, while the four of us watched them at 
a distance of 20yds. They had finished drmkmg when 
two more, a doe and a faAvn, trotted up. took a late drink 
and then the whole five moved down into the canons and 
w-ere gone when the sun shot his first yellow ray across 
the world and tipped Mt. Zahn with gold. _ 
Then Ike unfolded his big frame and straightened up 
behind the rocks. "Come on, Kid; ain't no use monkeyin^ 
'round hyer no longer: deer don't drink arfter sunup,. an 
we'll hafto hunt th' gulches fer yer buck now, ' he said. 
"Which away. Ike?" asked Phil. 
"Reckon them breaks where yer lion like tu got yeh 
Sd' ought tu pan out— which way's th' wind— alright, guess 
we'd better git in yunder." he said, as he wet one finger 
arid held it up to "feel the wind," an old trick of the 
wilderness, by the Avay, and one that ahvays shows the 
true wind direction, because the windward side of the wet 
finger "gets cold quickest." Leaving the spring we started 
to travel afoot in a wide circle that would cut a lot ot 
very rough country, and end at the horses, Ike and the 
boy traveling together and Phil and I spreading out so we 
could cover a good bit of ground thoroughly 
A mile had been reeled off when I heard the grouse 
call again, and Phil beckoned me to come. Together we 
advanced toward Ike,' being guided by a pantomine from 
him as he crouched behind a big boulder where we soon 
"Nine of 'em 'n a bunch; Kid see 'em fust, 'n' they's a 
whalin' big buck in amongst 'em. Juss gone int thet 
natch o' cedars crost th' canon, 'n' I reckon they re a-head- 
m' fer th' no'th side o' th' hill tu bed down, Ike ex- 
plained. "Reckon we'd better cut 'round this_ side n 
head 'em 'bout on th' ridge, hadn't we? ' queried Phil 
"Juss what I cal'lated. Kid'd ought tu git a good open 
shot thar. 'n' he kaint miss handjr, fur he'll have good 
rtmnin' shots if they break. Less move, fur they am t 
tt-avelin' slow." . j j - i.i,„ 
A minute later we were moving around and up the lul) 
at a slow trot, and soon had brought the ridge into view, 
but the deer were not in sight. . 
"See 'f yeh kin locate em. Pllil' said Ike, as he 
crouched with the boy and I behind the boulders. 
Phil left his gun and crawled out along the side hill. 
carefully scanning the hillside as it came into view below 
the ridge. , . „ 
Suddenly U reversed his movement and came rapidly 
back to us "Comin' right here 't th' fut o^ th' hill-big 
buck fust, 'n' not 40yds. away. Git ready. Kid, yeh got a 
shore sho't tHis time, 'n' he's a whopper, too," he said, ^ 
The boy poked his brown rifle barrel forward over the 
rocks, scraping it slightly as he did so, and just then the 
big buck came to the top of the ridge and stopped stock 
still, looking toward the morning sun and Mapping his big 
ears forM'ard. 
"Stidy, Kid," hissed Ike in his ear; "don't yeh pull trig- 
ger now tuU yeh knoAv yeh got him, fur yeh won't git 
'nother shot at 'nother buck like thet 'f yeh live tu be a 
hundred year old. Take yer time— half way up his 
shoul'er 'n' when yeh know it covers him, cut 'er loose, 
but ■' Bang ! The rest of Ike's instructions were lost 
in the roar of the gun. The big buck doubled up like a 
jackknite, and then bounded, or rather plunged, away 
down the hill Avith the whole bunch at his heels arid all 
with their "flags flying," except the big buck, who rau 
low. with heavy, plunging leaps and outstretched neck. 
Instantly the' boy leveled his rifle and the lead began tu 
stream after the buck, while Ike had his gun with the 
sights in line with the fleeing deer as a safety measure. 
"Stidjs kid," said Phil ; "yeh got him hard hit, 'n' he 
Ivaint git fur — no use o' schutin' np th' meat." 
But the boy's blood was up, and the rifle barked and 
spat, and the dust clouds rose about the buck where they 
struck, until, just when another leap Avonld have hid him 
among the cedars, he plunged down in a heap and rolled 
against a boulder— still. 
The two other deer just behind him cleared both his 
prostrate form and the big rock at a single bound and 
crashed away among the blue growth of stunted trees 
which waved as a farewell as they disappeared. 
Then the boy broke loose and yelled like a young In- 
dian on his first warpath, and the way he bounded down 
that rocky steep would have done credit to the big blue 
buck himself. 
Ike and Phil grinned and looked at me. 
"Kinder gits rattled sunt when it's all over, don'l: he?" 
said Ike. 
"Mighty stidy headed kid while th' fun's goin' on, said 
Phil. "Fse watchin' his gun, too — wan't a sign o' shake' 
er fever f'm th' time he fust poked it acro,st th'^rock titll 
th' buck went down, though he shot might fast." 
"Only the way he always shoots," I answered. ''I've 
seen him kill half a dozen young prairie chickens in about 
as many seconds with a light rifle while they crossed a 
road, and it was about dusk, too." 
We were proceeding slowly down toward the boy and 
the buck as Ave spoke, and in a moment the youiigster 
began: ^ , , 
"Gee! Hain't he a daisy ! Ain't that a head fuf yeh I 
Reckon I didn't fix him plenty er nothin'— five shots, 'n' 
three of 'em clean thro' him, 'n' 'nother'n juss ketched th' 
side o' his year 'n' tuk a chip out — kaint find th' other'n 
'tall; must 'a' missed, I reckon. I want tu keep thet head. 
C'manch', 'n' take it back tu th' States— one, two— nme 
prongs. Gee, he must be an old feller!" 
"W^ell, Kjd, git yer knife out," said Ike; "yeh might's 
well learn tu take keer o' yer game noAv 's ary other time, 
so take holt— it's gittin' \\-arm a'ready, '11' Ave'd better be 
gittin' too-woards home." 
"I'll git th' bosses up," said Phil as he started off. 
Under Ike's directions the boy proved himself a good 
butcher, and soon had the aiiarters unjointed and the 
body skinned out of the deer, and yet had not skinned 
the quarters and legs out of the hide at all. 
"Peck 'em a heap easier thet a way," said Ike. "Say, 
kid, ain't thet a purty big hole thar fer one ball to rnake 
— lemme see it a minnit — . Yessir, blamed ef he didn't 
put two bullets int' almost th' same place— see, one of 'em 
juss cut a piece out'n nen follered right in th' same 
iplace A\diere th' other 'n' went. Kid, yeh couldn't do it 
ag'in 'n a thousan' year — barrin' acksdunts." 
When Phil came up Avith the horses, Ave packed the deer 
on one, tied the head on a second, and the tenderloins were 
rolled in a "slicker" and lashed on behind the saddle of 
the third. Then Ave started back for the ranch, Ike and 
Phil telling of other hunts Avhen deer had not been 
killed, with so little trouble ; of times Avhen a buck must 
die or a man must starve, and only a cartridge or tAvo to 
o-o on; times Avhen the Sioux got restless and hunted the 
hunter, while he must needs hunt and dodge together. 
Ihey were interesting men, those two sturdy plaiiismen 
who lived where the Bad Lands came to the . edge of 
the plains, and who had fought the country,, the storms, 
the Indians and all. and Averc still aliA-e and as tough as 
pine Knots wheil we oame doAvn the lull in the warming 
^^^You see thet feather a-hangin' over th' bear skull 
down 't th' house, didn't yeh, Comanch' ?" said Phil. 
"Wull right up ag'in thet boulder over yonder 's Avhere 
ole Toe Lay Flee bored th' Sioux ut wored ut— long 11 
seventy-four er five— 'n' I juss santered up yere 'n got th 
big feather outen his Avar bonnut arfterwards— thet is 
arfter we'd hurried Joe— pore cuss, they had hnn shot full 
o' arrers. 'n' he pegged out 'n' a cupple o' days arfter he 
o-ot yere ; but he got seA^en ut he knowed of, he. tole us— 
thet's his grave over von, wher' th' pile o' focks is. Ike 
'n' me planted him thar. Good feller. Joe was, too."^^ 
"What's uh matter. Kid? Yeh ain't sayin nuthin. said 
Ike 
"'I'm inderested." answered the youngster, as he glanced 
back at the horse that carried the liig buck's head and 
watched it swing from side to side and up and doAvn under 
the movement imparted by the swinging gait of the cow 
horse. "Gee, won't thev look alright doAvn 'n th States, 
he said as we pulled up in the .shade of the house and 
began to unpack. Ei- CoacANGSO. 
Fxtfaordinary Docility of a Rttffed Gfouse. 
Springfieu), Mass., July i.— Editor Forest and Stream:^ 
In one of the mountain towns Avest of this city a system ot 
Avater-works is being built. The reservoir is 200ft. above 
the river, with a primitive road cut through the forest to 
the reservoir. By the side of this road, under a fallen 
tree trunk, a ruffed grouse has nested within tfl. of the 
traveled track of the road. At first she resented the in- 
trusions of fhe passing workmen, but soon seemed to 
lose her fear and Avould remain on the nest while the teams 
nassed and at last allowed one of the men to take her 
bodily from the eggs and put her back agam. Avhen she 
quietly resumed her sitting, hatched her brood and left. 
Practical Snake-Lore, 
Modern Treatment of Snake Bites. 
Considering the pi-bneness of the average newspaper to 
circulate snake myths such as stories of their young run- 
ning in and out of their digestive organs, of snakes charm- 
ing their prey, and of snakes carrying horns or stings in 
their tales, it is very remarkable hoAV utterly oblivious 
they have been, and remain, of the advances which modern 
science has made in the treatment of snake bites. In 
nearly all other branches of science the newspapers keep 
-their readers fairly well acquainted Avith Avliat is going on, 
even though the new and wonderful inventions cut but 
small figure in the ordinary affairs of life. But where 
there is an important adA^ance in the treatment of snake 
bites there is peculiar reason why it should be promptij' 
giA-en the Avidest publicity. For promptness of proper 
action is almost of as vital consequence in counteracting 
the effect of venom in the veins as it is in saving a spent 
swimmer from drowning. In both cases even the delay > 
necessary to summon medical aid may be fatal. The 
knowledge Avhat to do in both cases might Avell be taught 
in public schools in rural districts, and should certanily 
be a part of the mental equipment of all Avho spend much 
time in the Avoods and on the waters. 
Of the old-fashioned popular remedies for snake bites, it 
may be said generally that the giving of a single moderate 
drink of Avhiskj'- and lancing and sucking the wound are 
good as far as they go. Ammonia is worse than useless. 
It increases the pressure in the arteries, Avhich increase.- 
the loss of blood through their Avails, and it is pofitiA'el} 
dangerous, Split chicken and otlier poultices are inert 
And the same may be said generalh'- of all the multitude 
of so-called vegetable antidotes. I have a very long lisi 
of these, collected in different parts of the country, and ' 
including that of Sampson, who was a slave pttrchased and 
set free by the Colony of South Carolina, about 1745, for . 
making knoAvn several antidotes Avhich he professed to 
have learned from the Indians. Possibly some of these by 
.stimulating the action of skin, bowels or kidneys may 
assist nature's efforts to finally eliminate venom from the 
system. But if a fatal dose has been injected (which, foi-- 
tunately, does not ahvays happen), the venom in the veins 
has a fatal start ahead of any remedy taken into, the 
stomach. As early as i860 Dr. Weir Mitchell, of Phila- 
delphia, published experiments shoAving that the only 
Vv^aj' of neutralizing A^enom in the veins was by injecting 
the antidote Avith a hypodermic needle. And the needle 
remains to-day the one indispensable instrument, though, 
there has been great advance in the remedies to be in- 
jected. Dr. Mitchell found that venom contains two 
separate and distinct poisons. One, called venom peptone, 
kills by paralyzing the principal nervous centers controlling 
the heart and' lungs. The other, venom globulin, destroys 
the chemical constitution of the blood itself. It loses the 
property of coagulating, and it becomes as thin almost as 
kerosene, so that it no longer courses through veins and 
arteries, but leaks through their walls as Avater would 
through muslin. The stomach is too slow and roundabout 
a method of getting our antidotes into the blood to meet 
and destroys such venom. The man who AVouid be pre- 
pared to properly treat a snake bite must have at hand a 
hypodermic needle and the proper antidotes. There are 
quite a number of chemical reagents which promptly break 
up all organic compounds, such as snake venom, but we 
must select tliose which will do this with least destructive 
action upon the flesh. Dr. Mitchell's earliest recommenda- 
tion Avas the use of bromine or iodine. Later experiment.? 
led to the use of permanganate of potash — which has also 
been recommended, by the way, as an antidote for poison- 
ing by morphine. But the riiost recent^ experiments have 
seemed to shoAV that a solution of chromic acid, of one- 
oiic-hundredth, has least destructive effect upon the flesh 
and the greatest upon the venom, and next to that is 
recommended chloride of gold. But time is of the essence 
in the application of these remedies, as may be easil}'" 
imagined Avhen one thinks hoAV swiftly the currents of the 
blood ilo\y. A five-minutes' unchecked floAV of blood mayi 
scatter the venom where the antidote can neA^er find the' 
half of it. So the first thing on receiving a bite should 
be to check the circulation by bandages. Every second 
here counts, and even A-engeance on the snake should wait 
for this. The object is to arrest the venom until the anti- 
dote can be injected after it. Then the bandages may be 
alternately loosened and tightened again, to restore cir- 
culation and let the system meet the poison a little at a 
time. 
Ten years ago this Avould have been the he^t treatment 
ktiown, and it is the best to-day on the line of neutralizing 
the venom. But in 1888 a Dr. A. Mueller, of Australia, 
published an account of remarkable cures made by him- 
self on an entirely different line, tie did not try to pur- 
sue the poison with an antidote, Avhich A\'ould destroy 
it, but to meet it in the nerve centers Avith another poison 
which would act on these centers in a directly contrarv 
manner. For instance, if venom kills by turning off th? 
nerve currents, he Avould use a reagent Avhich would kill 
by turning them on. If venom acts anywhere Avith a minu? 
sign this'should act at the same point with a plus. He 
would neutralize, not so much the venom as its effects' 
He found this reagent in strj^chninc. Strychnine make) 
known its action upon the nervous centers by causing con- 
vulsions resembling those of tetanus, or lockiaAv. And 
in 1883 rattlesnake venom was first successfiiUy used by 
Dr. Ameden, of Glens J'aUs, N. Y., a« a- remedy Joi 
tetanus. 
The treatinent recommended by Dir. Mueller is th« 
promptest po.ssible injection of about a tenth of a grain of 
strychnine, to be followed by another in twenty minute? 
unless the symptoms become more favorable, and ever 
by a third. Slight tetanic symptoms will giA'e warning 
when the strychnine has overcome the A'enom and be- 
fore it can produce dangerous strychnine poisoning. 
While this treatment has not met universal acceptance 
yet it has been very largely foUpwed, both in Australia anc 
India, and it is apparently rapidly groAving in faA^or. BvU 
it possibly has one weak point, and that_^point, too, per- 
haps, of greater ivar^lttxict in An^^rici t'Jian in India ot 
