8 2 V 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Feb. 3, igoot - 
7/f g^artmtim ^mtrisL 
Sam^s Boy* — X. 
Sammy Begins Drive's EducalJoo. 
In spite of Sam's grief for the old dog, within the week 
lie brought home a puppy with blue "mottled sides, black 
saddle and tail patches, a rat-like tail, sprawling, crooked 
tan legs, a brow prematurely furrowed by sorrows yet 
unknown, and black and tan ears that bedraggled an inch 
of their tips in his basin of milk. He was the unfinished 
picture of his aged predecessor, whose honored name 
Avas at once bestowed upon him and whose place it was 
hoped he might worthily fill. Of course, Sammy and 
he at once became great cronies and constant com- 
panions. 
Sammy soon began the education of the puppy, a task 
which he felt himself quite competent to undertake, not 
by experience, but by inheritance from his father, a 
successful fox hunter and wise instructor of hounds. 
The boy did not ask his father's advice nor acquaint him 
with his plans perhaps thinldng to surprise him 
with a well-trained young hound, or perhaps fearing that 
his ideas and his father's might not quite agree. He 
chose, rather, his little sister for his confidant and as- 
sistant, she having arrived at an age to make her liis 
companion and a sharer in most of his pastimes. 
One sunny and dewey morning while he was partaking 
of make-believe tea and bread and butter with her out 
of acorn cups and crocker^^ shard plates in her play- 
house by the leach tub, the puppy suddenly made him- 
self an unwelcome member of the company. As he 
sprawled upon his young master to bestow a caress, he 
cleared the barrel of all its outsetting of dishes, and the 
Barmecide feast they held, with one sweep of his long, 
slender tail. Then being repelled by a vigorous cuff, he 
attempted to bestow a similar token of affection on the 
chubby sister, which over-turned her and the block 
upon which she sat, and smothering her tearful outcry in 
a shower of dog kisses, seized her beloved rag doll, 
dragged it from her arms and was just making off with 
it when his flight was stopped by Sammy's catching luni 
by the tail. 
As he twisted and turned to repel this rear attack, he 
was caught more securely by the scruff of the neck, and 
the doll was dropped and quickly rescued to the little 
mother. 
"Lay daown !" Sammy commanded, pulling the puppy's 
legs from under him, one by one, while he pressed him to 
the ground and sitting astride his back held him in that 
position in spite of his struggles. 
"Lay daown, sir !" Sammy repeated, and triumphantly 
called to his sister, "See haow quick he I'arns !" 
"Mean ol' fing," she sobbed, with angry glances through 
her tears. "Me hate him," 
"That ain't nothin' ; what he wants is tu git tu huntin'. 
Say, sis, you go an' git your kitty an' we'll I'arn him tu 
foller her track." 
"I 'fraid he'll eat kitty same 's he eat dolly," the little 
_ sister protested. 
"Pooh!" Sammy scoffed, "he can't ketch her. She'll 
climb up a tree 'fore he c'n git her !" 
Being at last persuaded that no harm could come to 
her pet, she went in and presently reappeared with a 
half-grown kitten hanging over her arm in limp, quiescent 
discomfort, the mother cat following close at her heels in 
some anxiety for the welfare of her offspring. The cat 
stopped on the doorstep, beguiled by its sunny warmth, 
wherein she stretched herself, and through half-closed 
lids lazily watched her kittens being borne away, with 
Sammy in advance, dragging the reluctant pupppy by one 
ear, out among the straggling, scraggy apple trees. The. 
boy halted at the wall on the further side, and, holding 
the young hound between his knees, issued his orders. 
"There, Sis, you put her daown ther^, an' let her 
foller you hum. Mog along kinder easy, an' don't go tew 
straight." 
■ The kitten set down in the wet grass, put forth one 
tentative paw, withdrew it and shook the dew from it, 
put forth the other forepaw and withdrew it with a 
like protest against the unpleasant moisture, and then 
followed its little mistress in a series of trots and gallops, 
stopping now and then to mew a complaint, but for the 
most part keeping very close to the short, brown flannel 
skirt of its young mistress. 
"It's too bad wet poo' kitty's foots! I wanter carry 
poo' kitty." she ejied, stooping to take the kitten in her 
arms. 
"Don't ye ! Don't ye !" Sammy shouted. "You wanter 
I'arn her to run away from dawgs, or some on 'em_ '11 
be a-killin' on her fust you know! Hunt 'em, Drive, 
hunt 'em, good dawg !" and he laid Tiis pupil onto the 
fresh trail. 
The dog knew not what to make of it all at first, thep 
as his nostrils caught the reeking scent, he snuffed it 
eagerly, his slender tail threshing his ribs while he 
whimpered in ecstasy of this new-found delight, till at 
last he went off on the track, giving tongue brokenly, yet 
almost melodiously. Sis sped away at the best pace her 
short legs could command, the kitten now close on her 
heels, now running before her. When the last apple tree 
was passed, she stumbled and fell sprawling over her 
pet. The pursuers were hard upon them, for though the 
puppy in his eagerness often overran the trail, he was 
quickly laid on to it by his young master, and so the 
kitten had scarcely scrambled out into light and freedom 
when the puppy was upon it. It uttered a peculiar squall, 
whereupon its mother came rCishing to its rescue with 
glaring eyes and distended tail, arriving at the same 
moment with an old Tom sitmmoned from some near re- 
treat by the cry of distress, and both alighting at once 
upon the puppy^ fell to clapper-clawing him savagely. A 
piteous outcry burst from the frightened hound; the 
cats yowled, spit and growled; Sammy shouted, "Scat! 
Git aout! Come 'ere!" all in the same breath; his sister 
screamed in an agony of alarm. 
Then came the sound of Uncle Lisha's lapstone 
tumbling to the floor, followed by his voice roaring, 
"Good airth an' seas ! Is it Injuns, or 01' Scratch bruk 
loose?" as he waddled out adjusting his spectacles and 
shading his eyes from the sun. Aunt Jerusha, Huldah, 
Tunotliy Lovel and Sam came swarming out of the 
door. 
In their rear could be heard a muffled wail from Mrs. 
Purington. "Oh ! is that mis'able haoun' pup eatin' up all 
the cats, or what is 't? Can't nob'dy tell me, or git me 
my smellin' salts, or du suthin' tu relieve my feelin's? 
Nobody knows what they be 'at hain't hed 'em t" 
"What's all the haow-de-Iow 'baout, Sammy?" Sam 
asked when the wrigglmg heap of children, cats and dog 
had separated into its several constituent parts and the 
medley of noises had subsided to the suppressed sobbing 
of the little girl, the cooing endearments of her mother 
and Aunt Jerusha, and the whimpering of the trembling 
puppy. 
ihe boy told the story as well as he could in his 
present shame and confusion, truthfully and without ex- 
cuse except his desire to promote young Drive's educa- 
tion. 
"T guess I woiildn't try tu break him on aour cats no 
more," his father said, after listening patiently, "if he 
should get a few more sech cat-clawin's he'd cal-late the' 
wa'n't nothin' better tu find tu the end o' no sort o' 
track." 
"The' won't nob'dy tell me nothin'," Mrs. Purington 
moaned between deep inhalations of hartshorn, "but I 
b'lieve that 'ere boy hes be'n pooty nigh — snooph — fur's 
I know, aout an' aout killed — snooph-ah — his little sister ! 
'T would be all right if he hed, I s'pose, 'cause he's 
Sa-animy, an' she hain't nothin' but a gal, an' no name tu 
her back only Sis — snooph-ah! I should think you 
would scratch 'raount an' dig up one o' some sort afore 
that 'ere boy does kill her an' not a thing tu put on her 
tombstun. If her gran'ma's name hain't good enough for 
a Lovel, which the Bordens was 'spectable folks if they 
didn't go huntin' an' no more did the Pur'ntons, mebby 
her gre't-gran'ma Bordens would, Polly Ann. But no, 
that couldn't be 'spected. Will anybody tell me if he 
hes killed her? You might know he would — fetched up 
tu go huntin', not vallyin' life one atom." She caught 
sight of a cricket crawling on the floor and promptly 
crushed it with her foot. 
" Why, the' hain't nob'dy killed, mother " Huldah as- 
sured lier, and Mrs. Purington consoled ncrself with a 
longer sniff of hartshorn. "I do' know but what Polly 
is a good name, an' it '11 please aour Sis. It's queer we 
never thought on 't. An' Polly's short for Mary tew, 
which is good enough name for anybody. But I guess 
we'll leave off the Ann." 
Mrs. Purington heaved a deep sigh, and filling its 
place with a long inhalation of ammonia, tried to con- 
tent herself with this partial honor paid the maternal 
Bordens. Rowland E. Robinson, 
[to be continued next week.] 
Game in the Philippines* 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
If I could have carried out my plans in regard to shoot- 
ing while at Manila, I should be able to give you some 
information as to the possibilities of sport in that direc- 
tion in the Philippines. 
During the last of July and the 'first two weeks in 
August, 1898, we were camped some three miles south of 
the Malate fort, which is the southern defense of the 
District of Malate, a residential suburb lying on the bay 
south of Manila. Of course we were confined pretty 
closely to our camp, and to guard duty in the trenches, 
and saw no animal life at all, excepting the native "cara- 
boo," or water buffalo, domesticated by the natives, and 
some few monkeys brought into camp for sale from the 
interior. 
After the fall of Manila I was planning to get a short 
leave, if possible, and try a hunt. Lieut. Benj. Koehler, of 
the Sixth Artillery,, who was acting as the Second 
Lieutenant of the Astor Battery, knowing that I had spent 
a great deal of time in shooting and fishing, and having 
had no experience in that line himself, told me that he 
and some officer of the Third Artillery, whose name I 
have forgotten, desired to make such a trip, and that if I 
would find out where we should go and what we should 
take with us, and would make the necessary arrange- 
ments, he would secure permission from headquarters for 
us to be absent. 
After inquiry I secured an introduction to a native 
gentleman of the city, who had been educated abroad. He 
was half-Spanish, by the way, and had done considerable 
sheeting on the Island of Luzon. He informed nie that 
by going some fifty miles to the northeastward of Manila 
buffalo could be obtained, though they were scarce. 
Within twenty miles of Manila, to the southeast, one 
could obtain large numbers of the small deer which are 
found in the northern part of the Archipelago. The 
Englishman who gave me a letter of introduction to this 
native, told me that .some years previous to our meet- 
ing he had himself made one of a party, and that the 
six men who composed the party had secured one hundred 
and three deer in seven days. 
Their method of hunting was to hire all the natives they 
could get hold of with their cur dogs and drive the jungle 
on some hillside, the hunters taking convenient stands, as 
is the custom in tlie canebrakes in the South here. 
However, after securing ponies and a guide to go with 
us, Capt. — now Major— March, our comnaanding officer, 
informed us that General Otis did not think it wi.se_for 
any of our men to venture into the interior, as we might 
get involved in some trouble with the natives. This was 
the extent of my hunting in the Philippines. 
I know there are deer there, because while lying in the 
Red Cross Hospital, just a year ago at this time, I saw on 
the other side of the street a yearling buck staked out to 
graze, and judging from the size of that buck and my 
feelings at the time, I have no hesitation in stating that 
I thought his flesh would last me about one day. I may 
have been mistaken about that, as I had not been allowed 
meat for some eight weeks. 
One night when T was in charge of the guard at our 
quarters — my corporal being a little under the weather — 
J had remained up all night, and about daylight I noticed 
the natives beginning to pass, going to the market with 
trays of vegetables and other food on their heads. 
Noticing one man carrying a bunch of birds, I stopped 
him, and found to ray surprise that the majority of the 
birds were Wilson's snipe, or English snipe, as we often 
call them. These birds were living, tied together by the 
feet, and I bought a half-dozen snipe from the native at 
10 cents each (Mexican). I would have bought more 
only I had no more money. The man could not explain, 
so that I could understand him how these birds were 
caught, and I never had an opportunity of looking into 
the matter, as I went to the hospital very shortly after- 
ward. 
The English sparrow was our most common bird in the 
city, though numbers of parrots were for sale, being 
brought from the interior. Harry L. Burdick. 
Boston, Mass. 
On Kansas Prairies. 
Lang, Kan., Jan. 22. — Editor Forest and Stream: It 
is with both pleasure and profit that I read Mr. Cheney's 
writnig for Forest and Stream; but I regret very much 
that he is placing so much of the wild life that is left un- 
der ban. I had supposed that in condemning the otter 
and mink and muskrat the fishculturist had gone far 
enough ; but it seems that the tribes of feathered and furry 
fishers and hunters must be put out of the way, that we 
may catch more trout; but for my own part, though, in 
fact, only a looker-on at a distance (for we do not catch 
trout either in Coal Creek or the Cottonwood River), yet 
if I were back at the old mill pond in Hatfield, I should 
much prefer to catch one real wild trout, made thor- 
oughly wild by the very wild creatures now under ban; 
and walcJi the kingfisher as he flickers about the pond; to 
catch a glimpse of a great heron flapping his way off 
through the tree tops ; just to see once in a year or two an 
otter at his work or play ; yes, and even to watch the water 
beetles, than to know that all the wild life was extermi- 
nated, and catch trout in unlimited quantities. Bunny, 
too, is under condemnation here, is cursed, hunted and 
trapped at all seasons, but still continues in the land, and 
I am glad of it; glad, too, that even the coyote still lin- 
gers here, and very glad that there are some types of 
wild life — even if it does include the weasels, skunks, 
nimks and herons— that cannot be banished off the face 
of the earth. 
I used to think I had added greatly to my score when 
I had brought down a big heron; and even the little 
herons did not go unscathed. And when one time, just 
after sunset, on the Agawam Meadows, by what I have 
always considered one of the quickest shots of my hunt- 
ing experience, I broke the wing of an eagle that was 
6 feet from tip to tip of wing, and sent him helpless into 
the river, I really thought I had done something to boast 
of. But now, with the exception of the hawks and 
crows, I leave them unmolested. While in their habits 
the crows make an interesting study, j'et I detest them 
for their robbing the nests of the smaller birds, and so 
show them no mercy. The hawks are always of interest 
to me, for I look upon them as the keenest of hunters, 
taking only what they need from day to day, and even 
when lying wounded unto death facing their slayer with 
undaunted eye. Yet the prairie chicken and quail are too 
much at their mercy on these great open plains, and the 
hawks and owls too abundant here; so I cut them down 
when I can. But it is always with a feeling of pity that 
such a strong, free life and such a perfect mechanism 
should be desti-oyed, and I often wish that I had learned 
taxidermy, for each season I leave to perish where they 
Jail some specimens that ought to be put to a better use. 
I cannot help J. P. T. out much in his bear "problem," 
but can say it was five bears that put to flight that band of 
hunters and a village of Indians. The meat from the 
slain bear carried them through, until they could get 
away. But from whose writings the story was taken I 
cannot remember, nor even by whom the Third Reader 
we then used was edited. It was away back in the Httle 
old school house (not the present comparatively roomy 
building) in West Hatfield, that I used to drone out that 
story when the Third Reader class was called; or when, 
at my seat, I would study the picture where the bears 
were coming over the cliff, and imagine — ^well, lots of 
things that would happen when I, too, would be in the then 
far-away Rockies. I am 1,500 miles nearer to them now; 
but although I promise myself each year that before the 
year ends I will pitch my lent among them, yet some- 
how these great plains hold me with bonds that, al- 
though invisible, are as yet unbearable; so that I, who 
grew up among and loved the mountains, have not for 
years seen even a hill half so high as the lower part of 
old Mt. Tom. 
But to refer again to the "problem." Is it a coincidence 
that often when reading the grizzly bear stories in Forest 
AND Stream, and especially within the last year, I have 
thought of that old story and wondered whether it was 
the rifles or the bears that had changed so much? For 
that the grizzly was looked upon with dread, all the old 
histories of the Rockies and California go to show. 
J. P. T.'s memory is good — indeed, very good — but ask 
an easy question next time, for I am no longer under 
the schoolmaster's orders. 
The quail season is over. It has not been a very suc- 
cessful season, for several reasons, mainly because the 
cover has been very thick and food abundant, so that the 
birds have not been obliged to move about, except little, 
and when flushed have disappeared almost as by magic; 
but it leaves a good supply for another season. Another 
peculiarity has been that for some reason it has talcen 
very hard shooting to kill. I lost .some prairie chickens 
by not changing from No. 8 to coarser shot quickly 
enough; but for rabbits and quail I had supposed tlie 8s 
were big enough. I have scored an unusual number of 
unaccountable misses. I wanted to blame the old Rem- 
ington, but knew better; then thought it might be the 
powder, but the penetration was all right, so I concluded 
that it was mv own faultv' shooting; but the last quail of 
the season, T think, revealed the cause of failure. I 
flushed a bevy in a cornfield, and. singling out a bird 
shot at it. The wind took the .smoke into my eyes, so T 
could not tell if it fell; so, marking the place where it 
ought to be, I went on to where the old dog was stand- 
ins^, several rods from where T shot at mv bird. T could 
not flush anv birds, but the dog insisted that there was 
one there, so I bcfan brush iup- aside the dead crab gras.'; 
which was vfry thick, and then took place another of 
the li«'t1e incidents that memory cherishes 50 long. The 
