488 
Just before dark the three hunters reached camp and 
Crowe carried in a fat little yearling buck, while Mc- 
Ilhaney and I had a turkey each, and Calico for a time 
forgot his troubles. That night after supper, while sitting 
around the tent stove, Indian talk, for the benefit of the 
cook, was indulged in, and by the time we were ready 
to turn in his eyes were shining like door knobs, and every 
sound made him jump and shiver. 
It continued alternately raining and snowing for the 
next ten days, and Avhile it was a little unpleasant to be 
out in, it certainly was the best weather for successful 
hunting that any of us had experienced. Game of all 
kinds continued to accumulate, and by the i8th, when 
we had decided to start on our return, there were four 
whole deer and the remnants of a fifth, eleven turkeys and 
possibty two bushels of quail and prairie chicken in the 
stock. 
The longer we remained, however, the more nervous 
became Calico, and he protested in his mild way against 
being left alone at the camp, for, said he, "What's I gwine 
do if dem Injuns comes? I cain't hit de woods wid a 
shotgun ?" 
Crowe suggested that he might "hit the road," but 
this was lost on the darky. They still talked "Injun, 
massacre and scalps" in Calico's presence, and that in- 
dividual was in a state of terror all the time. One day 
Crowe, Mcllhaney and the writer climbed up over the 
mountain to the west of the camp and hunted together. 
Late in the afternoon Crowe and Mcllhaney jumped a 
fine large buck that ran directly toward me, and but two 
"barks" from my rifle were heard before the "killed hoot" 
brought the others to me to view and admire the finest 
specimen that had yet fallen to our party. It was near- 
ing night, and there was good six miles between us and 
a much desired supper. Besides, the mountain down 
which we were compelled to go was very precipitous and 
rocky. 
The deer was quickly prepared for transportation by 
removing the entrals and swinging it on a shoulder pole. 
When we reached the little valley where camp was 
situated, it was pitch dark. We could hear some one hal- 
looing and occasionally shooting on the opposite hilL 
When we came within a hundred yards of our camp we 
could outline by the dim firelight the form of Calico, sit- 
ting with a gun across his lap, and his head down, asleep. 
We laid the deer down, and Crowe and Mcllhaney slipped 
up under the bank of the creek, and using care that 
nothing would be hurt by the shots, fired in the glowing 
coals with their rifles, at the same time yelling like 
savages. That darky was covered with coals and ashes, 
and at a low estimate he jumped lo feet. We were so 
convulsed with laughter that we did not notice any- 
thing for a few moments, and when we did, could hear a 
horse's feet striking the rocks in the direction of the 
road up the hill. We carried the deer across the creek, 
and the first thing that was noticed was Mcllhaney's new 
Smith gun lying in the fire where the cook had in his 
terror dropped it. Then Crowe looked at the team and 
found that Calico and one of the horses were missing. 
All at once it struck us that the joke was working both 
ways, and that Calico, to escape from the savages that he 
thought had attacked him, had escaped on one of the 
liorses. We could yet hear that horse hitting the rocks a 
mile away. Mcllhaney jumped on the remaining horse 
and followed the fugitive, and Crowe and I began getting 
camp in order for the night. Soon Harris came in. He 
it was that had been yelling and shooting. He had been 
lost, as usual, and his yelling and banging of his old 
muzzleloader had given Calico splendid preparation for 
the fright that possessed him when the Winchesters threw 
the coals and ashes over him. About 9 o'clock Mac and 
Calico came in, Mac mad and tired, the horses completely 
fagged out, and the negro with a well-defined case of 
heart disease. Calico, when he discovered that he was 
not hurt by the fire that he supposed the "Injuns" had 
aimed at him, jumped on Fox, the slowest horse of the 
team, and tried to escape. As Mac approached him and 
gained on him, I suppose the poor man died a thousand 
deaths. He realized that the pursuer would finally over- 
take him, as he could tell that he was gaining rapidly. 
When Mac came in hallooing distance of the darky, he 
yelled for him to stop. Calico's answer was a desperate 
kick at the ribs of old Fox and neAV efforts to increase 
his speed. Finally, Mac overtook the scared African, after 
old Fox had completely given out. 
The poor fellow rolled off the horse and begged for his 
life, Mac hardly being able to get him to understand that 
he had been pursued by a friend instead of a "murdus 
Injun." This afterward furnished a laugh every time we 
thought "of it, but that day when he started off with 
the horse, the smile seemed to have changed, and it was 
a feeling of anxiety that pervaded the camp until the 
return of the Red River refugee. 
On the i8th we broke camp and started for home. It 
was rather cold, and during the first day it alternately 
rained and snowed, and when night set in it was a 
corker. We reached the Arkansas River about 4 o'clock 
in the afternoon, and got across just at dark. We con- 
cluded to drive to the Verdigris that night, but Harris, 
true to the record he had made on this trip! lost us, and 
we stayed all night in the cold and wet, and at daylight 
found we were twenty miles further away than we were at 
the Arkansas ferry. By hard driving we reached Wagoner 
that day in time for the homeward bound train. On 
the 20th we reached home, with plenty of game to give 
our friends a feast, and experience enough to entertain 
by its recital every sport lover in the city. 
J. W. Fareell. 
Weir City, Kan. 
Have the Ducks Changed their Line? 
Parkersburg, W. Va., Dec. 6. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: I have just returned from a ten days' trip to 
Cobb's Island after ducks. The birds are very scarce; 
only a few brant and geese; no black ducks 
worth speakinyg of. The gunners laid it to the wind 
and tides, but the fact is they are not there. Then I came 
up to the canvasback grounds, and there found nearly the 
same conditions. Have the ducks changed their flight? 
a L. s. 
The FosESi akd Sybbau is put to press each week on Tuesday. 
Correspondence intended for pablicatioa should reach us at the 
tetett i>y 2£onday cod as mucfa earlier as ptseti(»bl& 
.FOREST AND STREAM. 
CHICAGO AND THElWEST. 
Shooting with the Sagioaw Crowdl 
Chicago, III, Nov. 18. — Every one who reads Forest 
AND Stream has been entertained and am.used by the 
histories of the "Saginaw Crowd" which the leader of 
that assembly, Mr. W. B. Mershon, of Sagmaw, Mich., 
has written of the divers wanderings of this party into 
all the corners of the Western world. Not everybody, 
however, may be aware of all the inner history of this 
peculiar "crowd." It is really one of the most remark- 
able associations of sportsmen to be found in the United 
States, nor indeed do I know of any which resembles it. 
Composed of a dozen or so of wealthy men residing in 
different cities of Michigan, Ohio and New York, this 
body of shooting and fishing enthusiasts has reversed the 
ordinary method of wealthy men in search of sport. The 
Saginaw Crowd has always stood for open shooting, 
and has never maintained a preserve. On the contrary, 
its steps have always turned naturally to the wildest 
portions of the wilderness. Its trips to the Yellowstone 
country, to the Indian Nations, to North Dakota, to the 
Bad Lands of Montana and other less frequented corners 
of the best shooting regions, have always been made 
by the "crowd" in a body. Years ago the "crowd" con- 
ceived that it would be pleasanter to have a special car 
of its own. The members clubbed together and bought 
a private car, and after using it a while the notion so 
took possession of them that they had another car built, 
a very palace on wheels, with all the conveniences of the 
best Pullman sleeper, and a thousand special contrivances 
for sporting comfort such as cannot be found on any 
other car in all the world, as I imagine. This car 
(which bears the fitting inscription "Wm. B. Mershon") 
has an interesting history, and it has had under its roof 
some of the rarest souls of all American sportingdom. 
It goes to Dawson and Dickinson, and Mexico and Cali- 
fornia. It goes over to the Kinne Creek Club house, 
where some of the members are stockholders, and it goes 
to the Au Sable and the Boardman, and the Pere Mar- 
quette, and to many other delectable localities, and now 
and again we hear of these journeys through the Forest 
AND Stream. 
So much might be said of any party of men who had 
the tastes of sportsmen and the means to gratify their 
tastes, although I do not know of any such organized 
body of men outside of this one. But to say this would 
be not to mention the distinguishing peculiarity of the 
Saginaw Crowd, which sets it, I am confident, distinctly 
out of competition. The Saginaw Crowd has never 
held a kicker, never known a dissent, and never dwelt 
in anything but absolute and unaffected harmony. This 
is a record which we shall not see duplicated, in all 
probability, in any similar body of men throughout so 
long a term of years. Hence I consider this little body 
of sportsmen to be one of the most unique organizations 
in America, and its doings of a singular interest to all 
sportsmen, whether rich or less blessed with worldly 
stores. 
When the Saginaw Crowd gets on its shootiftg clothes 
it is the hardest looking, hardest shooting, hardest walk- 
ing and hardest eating crowd in the world, and every 
fellow there is a man and nothing more, and willing to 
accord that status to every other man, whether city 
shooter or of a sort which we sometimes call native. 
The Saginaw Crowd leaves no hard feelings behind 
the wheels of its special car. We read about the dukes, 
barons and princes of the Old World, but methinks that 
dukes who could not shoot would be about two for a 
quarter on that car, and a prince who had nothing but 
his crow^i in prospect could be bought and held for a 
rise by any one of the party. 
Not to be of close communion, or too strict a sect, the 
Saginaw Crowd does not lock the car door against 
friends of the members, but now and then admits others 
in the company of this vehicle,, whose purpose it is to 
hunt out the best of the wild open country left in 
America. 
When some one or two of the Saginaw boys get un- 
easy and feel like going hunting or fishing, the w-ord is 
passed over the telephone, a party is made up and the 
car is put into commission. By tacit consent the leader- 
ship in details is handed over to Mr. Mershon. In 
some way best known to himself all the supplies get 
into the car. Harrj' and Jake, the porter and cook, get 
into their white jackets, and on a few hours' notice the 
car rolls out to some new country and some additional 
history, perhaps of only a few days' duration, perhaps 
of several weeks'. Then there is the inevitable regret 
of having to get back to business, and the bemoanings 
of those who could not go. Brief or long, hurried or de- 
liberate, the trips of the Saginaw Crowd are always in- 
teresting and usually eventful; I do not believe that any- 
v.'here in the country there can be found a higher type 
of sportsmanship than that which obtains in this ag- 
gregation, whose name is familiar, through years of as- 
sociation, with the readers of Forest and Stream. 
Nor do I need add that I should value an invitation to 
join that unique and distinguished body more highly 
than I could any other summons. When you are with 
the Saginaw Crowd you are all right if you can walk 
and shoot, though you may have to walk a good deal 
and shoot a good deal to keep in the procession. 
The above is preamble to one of the pleasantest little 
experiences I ever had, and I am sure the Saginaw 
Crowd will wish to have it shared with the Forest 
AND Stream family. It was Mr. Mershon, head con- 
spirator of the band, who told me to come over and get 
in Hne with them this week for a quail and partridge 
shoot. Of course, I had the usual misgivings lest the 
world might not be able to get along without me while 
I was out hunting, but I reflected that there might be 
others in the party whose affairs were almost as big as 
mine, and hence I argued that I too might risk it. In 
consequence whereof a few letters, a telegram or so, a 
hurried slamming of old clothes into a still older pack 
bag, and a hurried departure last Monday night for 
Saginaw. 
I could have got there had I been deaf, dumb and blind. 
I have often commented with wonder on the executive 
quality of Mr. Mershon's ' mind. It is he who dis- 
tributes and districts the parties on a shooting trip, who 
tells each man where he left his gun and dog, who tells 
the cook what to have for dinner, and who without ap- 
parent eft'ort notes everything that is going on and 
sees that it goes on smoothly. I presume this is why 
he handles two or three big businesses and still has time 
to be the best field shot I have ever hunted with, the 
best natural dog trainer and the most ardent lover of 
sport for sport's own sake. In a few brief and well 
chosen words, as the daily reporter has it, Mr. Mershon 
told me what train to take to Saginaw, by what road 
and by what points. He advised me that I would ar- 
rive in such and such a depot, at such and such an 
hour; that I was to take my breakfast there alone, as the 
hour would be very early; that I was then to find the 
car, which would be in the depot yards near by, to go 
aboard and make myself at home until the party reached 
the car for the start, which would be at 8:15 in the- 
morning. 
All this came about as ordained. I took the Chicago 
& Grand Trunk train out of Chicago at 8:30 in the 
evening, and following copy did not' go by Durand, but 
by Flint, arriving in the F. & P. M. depot at 6:20 in 
the morning. As I sat at breakfast in the dining room 
I saw a certain beaming and red-cheeked face, which I 
recognized to be that of Harry, the porter, who was out 
in search of me, and who advised me that I was to have 
breakfast on the car. It was too late for that, but we 
got my traps aboard, and in. half an hour I was dressed 
in my shooting clothes and ready for trouble. The old 
car looked familiar, for this was my second journey with 
it. On the center table in the drawing room I recognized 
the big Regina music box which used to entertain us at 
Kinne Creek. I noted that it was set for a tune familiar 
to all good persons, that grand hymn which is named 
in the books "Adeste Fideles." I turned the crank of 
the box and the beautiful melody rolled out "How Firm 
a Foundation." This seemed to me a good way to open 
the day. so I sat down and had a good time until the 
faithful began to arrive. All at once there was a step in 
the rain puddles near the car, and there appeared at the 
steps the tall figure, the black moustache and dark eyes 
of the head conspirator, Mr. W. B. Mershon, or as his 
more familiar friends call him, Billy Mershon. With him 
was my old friend, black and tan Bob, one of the most 
sensible and level-headed meat dogs I ever knew. The 
black and white setter Queen was a new addition to Mr. 
Mershon's rolling stock. So far so good, and I thought 
I was a pretty lucky man. 
x\s I was saying, Mr. Mershon met me in the depot 
at Saginaw just at breakfast time, and soon after his 
arrival others of the special car party began to put in 
their appearance. Of these were Watts S. Humphrey, 
the prominent Saginaw attorney, whose weight is some- 
where between 200 and 300 pounds, but who can jump 
a five-barred gate with anybody. Mr. Humphreys 
brought along a handsome English setter with a wall 
eye and affectionate turn of mind. Mr. E. R. McCarty 
is another Saginaw heavyweight who stays out all day 
and comes in with full pockets in the evening. Mr. 
McCarty is using a setter now instead of the old pointer 
which he had on the day when I first shot with him, two 
years ago. Mr. E. N. Briggs is Mr. McCarty's old-time 
shooting companion, and this year is using an orange 
and white setter. Mr. Briggs is known in the Saginaw 
Crowd under the sobriquet of Little Wolf. Of slender 
physique and not in the best of health of late, Mr. 
Briggs retains all his old-time cunning with the shotgun 
and is always one to show results at the close of the 
day. Dr. E. N. Cross was one of the strangers in the 
city, if that could be said of one who was once a resident 
of Saginaw. Some twenty years ago Dr. Cross moved 
out to Stockton, Cal., whei-e he is well known as a citizen 
and sportsman. He has at different times joined the 
Saginaw Crowd in their expeditions into Dakota and 
Montana, and is visiting in Saginaw this fall. Mr. George 
B. Morley is the same George Morley who used to beat us 
all trout fishing on Kinne Creek. Mr. Morley pro- 
tested that he was a novice in quail shooting, but I 
noticed that he nearly always had feathers in his coat. 
His shooting companion was Mr. T. A. Harvey, an- 
other good sample of the Saginaw sort of citizen. Mr. 
Harvey has been shooting but two or three years, and 
did everything that could be asked of a man who is set 
to quail shooting with a close-choked, straight-stocked 
pigeon gun. Mr. Harvey admitted that he was a novice, 
but stated that he had done the best he could to get a 
good outfit. He had been sold all sorts of things, from 
a fyke net game bag to a patent cleaning rod, and he 
was a joy forever to everybody who wanted anything. 
Mr. George Morley and Mr. Harvey shot over Mr. 
Morley's dog, a very handsome English setter. Dr. E. 
R. Sumner, of Rochester, N. Y., joined the party on 
the third day, and is another one of those who liave been 
out with the old car. Dr. Sumner, as we shall in due time 
observe, proved himself a sportsman and a shooter in 
every sense of the word. Among the last of the Saginaw 
contingent to arrive was Mr. Jack M. Morley, and 
without Jack Morley the party would have been incom- 
plete. Dr. Sumner and Mr. Morley tied their faith to 
pointers, for their dogs. The oldest and most honored 
member of the entire party was Major Farnam Lyon, 
of the Bancroft House, in Saginaw. Major Lyon met 
us up the road, having just reached town from one hunt, 
and having made up his mind in ten minutes to join the 
car party for a few days more of sport. Major Lyon is 
certainly a sportsman worth mention. He is over seventy 
years of age, but does not appear to be over fifty, and 
is as active as a man much younger than that. I have 
stated that he had been out hunting for several days be- 
fore joining us, yet he was out each day with us among 
the first, and kept going until dark. On the car he was 
as lively as the youngest, and was always among the last 
to go to bed. A better example of a sportsman in ad- 
vanced years could not be found in all the country. He 
was the third of the party to use the pointer in prefer- 
ence to the setter. I speak thus fully in regard to the 
membership of our party because I consider it to have 
been a remarkable body of men. Knovnng each other 
perfectly these gentlemen seemed fitted each for the others. 
With eight men and nine dogs aboard the car, we had 
a pretty good muster roll. Mr. Mershon was surprised 
to see that every one of the party was on hand in spite 
of the very rainy looking morning, all of which goes to 
show the thoroughbred quality, of the aggregation. 
