Aug. s, 1899.] 
FOREST AND STftEAM. 
108 
since then I have successively retrograded, doubted, 
denied, and finally repudia1»ed the title. Recent contribu- 
tions to this journal have frequently confirmed iny 
opinion, especialhr many allusions and much logic relating 
to what constitutes true sportsmansliip. 
Among the latest articles in Forest and Stream that 
have expressed my sentiments, more forcibly than I can 
express them m3fself, have been some from Coahoma, 
Didymus Hnd Podgers. In the issue of July 8' the ob- 
servations of Podgers are particularly honest, candid and 
humane. Neither of the three mentioned can be truly 
called a representative sportsman, but they have my vote 
as being most representative of the best sentiments in 
the nature of mankind. 
Wlien Podgers says, ''I find that this aversion to killing 
is growing as I get older, and the sportsman's interest 
{i.'isumes a milder form. I go out less, and when I do I 
avoid the risk of wounding my game. If I am not sure 
of it 1 do not shoot," and when he further quotes a 
friend, who, asked about shooting, replies, "No; 
the fact is I am beginning to think as I grow 
older that shooting after all is^a cruel thing, and I am 
conscious of a growing repugnance to taking life" — I say 
when a man writes thus he is no longer a sportsman, and 
in all probability he never was one at heart. There is, 
furthermore, plenty of evidence that Podgers is not alone 
in his views. 
In my "exterminatory peregrinations" I have from 
time to time met many Western hunters, frontiersmen 
and pioneers — men who have spent their lives with rifle, 
axe and camping oittfit, and who have hunted, fished and 
fowled in many forests and by manj'- streams. It is not 
among such men, probably as experienced as any in the 
world, that ardent sportsmen are found. Old hunters 
and backwoodsmen, almost without exception, although 
they may haunt the frontiers, forests and streams out of 
pure fondness for the wilderness, or confirmed habits of 
seclusion, it is not for the purpose of sport in taking the 
lives of other creatures. They are always the most 
careful of men in the selection of seasonable game, and 
kill only such as they have urgent need of. If they by 
force ot circumstances become trappers or market-hunters 
they may exterminate — ^but that is "business" instinct and 
is not sport in any sense. 
To speak from my own experience, after hunting and 
prowling about Western mountains more or less for 
twentj'-five years, I think I was more of a sportsman to 
begin with, when a boy, than I have been since. I cer- 
tainly pursued field sports, hunting, fishing and fowling; 
and if I did not enjoy killing fish and game I was much 
elated when successful sometimes. I do not think I ever 
found pleasure in killing game, but the pleasure was in its 
acquisition and possession, or a certain pride in the 
achievement. But over and above it all, even as far back 
as I can, recall, I believe the greatest pleasure was in 
the preparation, sneaking off from home or school to the 
woods, monkeying with an uncertain gun or fishing 
tackle, tearing my best pair of pants, stubbing out my 
boots, getting full of briars and stings, and empty of 
about everything else, and then going home in about as 
meek and apologetic a kind of way as such a combina- 
tion of circumstances alone can produce. There was, im- 
questionabljf, fun in it, even if I didn't kill a chipmuiik or 
catch a shiner. I usually caught a whale at home. My 
own experience in youth, and subsequent obsen^ation, con- 
firms my belief that only a very youthful or an immature 
or vicious mind finds sport in the destruction of animal 
Ufe. 
I think a sort of instinctive fondness for nature and 
.■sequestered scenes is the chief attraction that lures, or 
rather persuades, man to seek secluded woods and 
fields and explore the unfrequented wildernesses and 
waters. This instinct is something entirely distinct 
from and superior in every way to the other inclinations 
that prompt the "count fisherman," the "game hog" or the 
pot or market-hunter. If the former nature is induced to 
practice destructive arts upon the creatures of the forests, 
fields and waters it is always to supply comforts or 
necessities, or because he is trained by the teaching and 
custom of others hy whom he models his character. If a 
youth is made to believe by the legends, precepts and 
practices of his_ elders,/ and "approved good masters," 
that true sportsmanship implies merely the pursuit of the 
sports of the field, which results in skillful hunting, fish- 
ing and fowling, he is more than likely to become a 
sportsman, pure and simple, than he is to become a man 
capable of contributing the sentiments of a Podgers, a 
Didj'mus or a Coahoma to the intellectual "and humane 
ethics that sustain and maintain civilization in its sway 
over inhuman and barbarous instincts. The wanton 
"civilized" butcher of game is, in reality, an inferior 
animal to most, if not to all, savages. There is no 
excuse for him. 
I advance my opinions upon this subject with about as 
much assurance as a man can speak of anj'thing because, 
favored bj' circumstances and opportunities, I have formed 
my conclusions after twenty-five years of practical ex- 
perience and observation. I haA^e fished, fowled and 
hunted Until I think I find no pleasure in the pursuit to 
kill any creature. I can support Podgers to the extent 
that I not only find this aversion to killing growing as I 
get older. biU it is keenl}' painful to me to kill anj'thing 
unless necessitjf, or apparent necessitj', demands it. 
I write these lines from the backwoods and under 
conditions that frequently induce me to hunt and fish, but 
J find myself watching deer walk awaj"- into the thickets, 
wth my rifle on my shoulder and no meat in the house; 
I have aimed at a squirrel a dozen times, to finally recon- 
sider and let him alone in his old tree; the scatter gun 
rusts in its rack and has not been fired for a year, al- 
though there are qtiail and grouse within its easiest 
range. There is a small trotit stream at my door, and 
twice this season I "piked" along it for a mile and back 
again and took several fish, but they looked so much 
better in the water than out of it that there was any- 
thing but sport in the raid. 
. Your ardent and lively sportsman may smile or possibly 
sneer at such confessions as these, and allude to their 
,expression as sentimental twaddle. He is welcome to 
his fling, but I will enlist to maintain this twaddle against 
much of the "sentiment" expressed by sportsmen who 
have even grown eray in making big counts of kills and 
long strings of gills. 
It is a singular thing that is coming (or rather, can it 
not be said, that has come?) to pass; instead of sportsmen 
"who pursue the sports of the field," skillful at fishing, 
fowling and hunting, a class of men is taking the place of 
the sportsmen who rather protect the fields from the 
sports, and believe in the propagation of fish, fowl and 
game, not in the annihilation of them. 
Therefore, in the considei-ation of these things, it doth 
seem that, liitherto, in the extermination of other crea- 
tures the true sportsmen hath been obliterating himself; 
and whereas an entirely different estimate is being ap- 
plied to practices called sportsmanship, insomuch that it 
appeareth that there is something incompatible betwixt 
the name and the true constituency represented by this 
journal; and so, directing the attention of those in 
authority to the matter, your petitioner ceaseth this screed. 
Ransacker. 
Shasta Mountains, California, July. 
Chases in the Air, 
East Wareham, Mass. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Many times, when shootung wild ducks, I have seen birds 
of prey after the same game, and while my sympathy was 
always with the weaker bird, I could but admire the chase. 
Hawking was royal sport in the Middle Ages, and it still 
survives in nature. The peregrine and lanier falcons were 
used in olden times, and they may be seen nowadays in 
full chase over the great wild meadows of the Puget 
Sound country. 
We read how fast some ducks fly, the canvasback well 
in front; who shall tell us how fast the falcon flies when 
he pitches after the fleeing bird? Anyone who has shot 
greenwing teal as they come in from the broad water to 
feed on the marshes in the dusk will concede that their 
flight is more like that of a baseball throwo with snipe- 
like variations than anything else. * 
The Puyallup meadows opposite Tacoma'wCre once a 
fine place for teal shooting; facing the west one has th^ 
benefit of the twilight, and can see his birds in time to 
make calculations for a shot. The principal marshes of 
the Sound do face the sunset, while those of Hood's 
Canal do not. In estimating rates of speed, size of body 
and uncertain light have something to do with apparent 
velocity, the sudden appearance and disappearance of a 
small bird giving the impression of going like lightning. 
However, fast as he flies, the falcon must be able to dou- 
ble his speed when he makes his closing effort. In one 
case I was watching for teal and one passed me at about 
40ft. As many yards behind came a peregrine, vvliich 
caught its game in the next 70yds, This bird fairly 
whizzed as it went by, and appeared very round-breasted, 
like a pouter pigeon. The birds flew so quickly that I 
had no time to bring my gun to bear on either. 
Another time, as I was sitting on the bank of Wapato 
Creek, three teal were coming my way and I was just 
pulling myself together for a shot when a falcon struck 
one. They were hardly near enough for my shot, but I 
fi)-ed and the peregrine dropped his game and flew off. 
On picking the duck up I could find no marks of either 
talons or shot; still, it could not fly. 
Greenwings seem to be a favorite game, probably on ac- 
count of their convenient size. It never seemed to me 
that they were aware an enemy was after them, and I 
never saw one try to dodge. I recollect once seeing a 
pintail that knew something was after him, and he had 
a full head of steam up for the race, which was nip and 
tuck for 300yds. and was won by the duck, the falcon giv- 
ing up the chase. Unfortunately I did not see the begin- 
ning, but I suppose that he did not get near enough to 
make his dash reach, and, having made it, he could not 
sustain the speed long enough. 
A hard-shot bird will often fall a victim to a falcon. 
My brother Phil had one so taken at Deer Lagoon, on 
Whidby Island. It was a buffle-head, which species often 
escapes by precipitately taking to water. Guillemots do 
the same. 
I have never seen a mallard pursued by a hawk of any 
kind. Widgeons immediately take to water if one ap- 
pears. On the Nisqually Flats I have seen an acre or so 
of wideons dive with such regularity as a hawk sailed 
over them that they produced a wave, which began at one 
edge of the flock and ran across to the other, as though 
one single sea had rolled through the pack. 
Plover and sandpipers have but slender chance of es- 
cape when once singled out. The}--, however, are mostly 
pursued by the smaller falcons, the peregrine or lanier 
seldom seeking them. 
At certain seasons the Sound marshes are frequented fey 
a small sandpiper that goes in immense flocks. We called 
them "pip." Thej' were very gentle, and could be ap- 
proached near enough for terrible slaughter if one were 
disposed that way. One incident will illustrate: Mr. 
Edwards, the father of the taxidermists of that name in 
Tacoma, told me that needing some specimens, he and 
one of his bo3's rowed up to a log on which a flock were 
resting; they took a raking shot with, I think, four bar- 
rels, resulting in enough for their requirements and, inci- 
dentally, thirteen dozen for Isaac Chilberg. The first 
were stuffed with Edwards Brothers' acknowledged skill, 
and the last by the patrons of Chilberg's restaiu-ant. 
However cooked, "pip" are not much to brag of, but 
hawks like them, and the appearance of a hawk will make 
all the "pip" Oji the marsh restless; they fly and scream 
incessantly until the hawk singles one out, when the 
chase is short. The very abundant, small, red-backed fal- 
con of Washington is their foe. I have seen this hawk 
chase a Brewer's blackbird for some distance, the undu- 
lating flight of the blackbird preventing its capture. I 
was once called out of my house by the squalling of a 
chicken. Right in the dooryard lay a small pullet with 
one of these little falcons sitting on her. The hawk W'Ould 
bear down as though trying to dig his heels in, each ef- 
fort eliciting a squall from the chick. I took two shots 
at him with a pistol and he cleared out; the chicken ran 
under a pile of lumber. 
Snipe are not often chased by hawks, and the only in- 
stance I recall took place over the Puyallup meadows. A 
Wilson's snipe was flying about, as they often do, at an 
elevation of perhaps 200ft.; a small hawk closed in with 
him, and he towered, going up soft, perpendicularly. 
This was repeated each time the hawk attained the same 
level, until the snipe was so high I could no longer see 
him. The hawk came down without succeeding and be- 
gan beating up the meadows afresh. 
Meadow larks are often caught, their abundance and 
regular flights malting them an easy target for the small 
falcons. I use the word hawk sometimes in speaking of 
this bird, which is a sparrow hawk and nests in an old 
stub like the mottled owl. I saw such a nest, with young 
in it, on the road to the Deschutes River. 
In thirty years with a gun I have never seen a bald 
eagle chase a duck, but have several tiiues seen them 
pursue the silver gull, probably for something the gull 
had rather than for the bird itself. The eagle has the 
reputation of killing ducks, and as careful a writer as 
Capt. Mayne Reid describes the killing of a swan by a 
pair. While in Maryland, on the Little Choptank River, 
I met a gentleman who assured me that eagles were very 
destructive to wildfowl, and he systematically hunted them 
with a rifle. In this part of Massachusetts, along the 
Agawam River, they are quite plenty, during the herring 
run. 
One man in our village has a record of fifteen or six- 
teen shot in one season. I trust this statement will pass 
uncensured, as the killing was done years ago, and there 
is a great diversity of opinion about eagles, their prom- 
inence on our coat-of-arms and coinage making them 
populai". I know of one instance where an eagle struck 
a wooden decoy. This happened with an uncle of mine 
some fifty or more years ago. He was "coying" for shell- 
drakes at the time, and having no especial veneration for 
eagles, shot this one. Within a few years this same uncle 
had a flock of Pekin ducks attacked by an eagle. 
The crepuscular habits of ducks and owls often bring- 
them together, but I have never seen an owl chase any- 
thing, although they will beat up the ground quite brislcly 
and drop on to their prey. 
One evening I was waiting after a very dull flight for 
just one more duck, when a great horned owl dropped on 
one of my wooden decoys. His advent was so silent and 
unexpected that I was unprepared to shoot, and he dis- 
appeared. Directly one of my live decoys set up a terri- 
fied quacking. She was sitting under a bank, and oyer 
her was poised the owl. I gave him a charge of shot and 
he took himself off into the darkness. 
This owl no doubt picks up a good many wounded 
birds and can catch ducks sitting on the water. I have 
seen very dark specimens of this bird in Washington, 
where they are quite plenty. 
There is another owl, much smaller, that hunts those 
meadows a great deal. He comes out before sunset, and 
even in midday I have seen one beating about for mice. 
They have tlie most spread of wing for their weight of 
any bird I ever handled, and are very mopey and weak. 
It was no uncommon thing to see three or four quartering 
the marsh at one time. I never detertnined.the species to 
which tliis owl belonged, but I know that its body was 
scarcely larger than a robin's and that it certainly spread 
2ft. of wing. 
My impression is that game birds are decreasing faster 
than birds of prey, especially in the West; in this part of 
Massachusetts predaceous birds are very scarce. I am 
led to believe that the disappearance of all kinds of game 
has something to do with this. Thirty years ago the 
Cooper's and sharpshinned hawks were quite common; I 
could find their nests every spring. This year I have 
seen but two Cooper's and" one sharpshinned, and one 
pair of red-tailed. The marsh harrier is now our most 
abundant species, and he, of all hawks of my acquaintance, 
catches the most cottontail rabbits. If those countries 
where this little fellow, or his relative, is a pest had lots 
of harriers they would catch the bunnies. Then I suppose 
It would be. Who shall catch the harriers? 
Man seems to distturb the balance of nature when in- 
troducing exotic species, many of which, put out with the 
best of intentions, have become as pestiferous as some 
plants that were brought here for medicinal or other 
properties and are now among our most troublesome 
weeds. Walter B. S.wary. 
"Why the Kissing: Bug Kisses. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
It is as difficult to get an authentic description of the 
sensational kissing bug as it has been of the sea serpent, 
although both put in a frequent appearance at summer 
resorts. No two accounts agree. The real fact is, the 
kissmg bug is a myth, and non-existent, although the re- 
corded cases of hospital patients being' victims of insect 
bites are too substantial facts. Flies in particular, as is 
well known, communicate fatal poison after feeding on 
carrion or other blood-poisoning material. There are 
various insects of other orders which are attracted by 
sweets, and the reason why they so often attack the 
human lips is that those persons' lips bear traces of food 
or other attractive substances which have been eaten; and 
m repelling the attack they enrage the bug, that bites; or 
the insect, while feeding, may leave poison matter on the 
delicate tissues of the lips, to be absorbed into the circu- 
latory system. Moral to everybody: Wipe your mouth 
clean. Charles Hallock. 
Deer on Martha^s Vineyard. 
Navigator Bartholomew Gosnold mentions in the 
chary of his voyage of 1602 having found deer on the 
Island of Martha's Vineyard, Mass., to which it is sup- 
posed they swam from the mainland when pursued bv 
liuntei-s. Being an isolated spot they would remain un- 
disturbed and readily multiply. The author of "Belknap's 
Biographies,'' printed in 179S, learned from Benjamin 
Bassett, of Chilmark, that the last deer seen there and 
shot at was in 1720. The horns of deer, he stated, had 
been ploughed up several times on the westward or land- 
Avard side of the island; a fact interesting in it^^elf as 
well as indicating an absence of rodents and other vermin 
which quickly destroy them when cast. C. H. 
The Forest and Stream is put to press each week on Tuesday. 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach us at the 
latest by Monday and as much earlier as practicable 
