FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. ,3, 1900. 
In the Ozarks. 
{Coniinned from last week.) 
One beautiful October day the hunting fever at- 
tacked me with all its old-time irresistible power, and 
unfitted me temporarily for work of any kind whatsoever. 
Nature called to me insistently to come out and play, and 
from my office window showed me an alluring prospect 
to tempt me from the dull, uncompanionable books 
lying open on my desk and staring blankly in my face. 
The hills stretched away on every side as far as the 
eye could reach, their wooded slopes showing touches 
of russet and gold, intermingled Avith the green of the 
unturned foliage; overhead the sky was blue and clear, 
with here and there a white, fleecy cloud sailing lazily 
by; the air seemed filled with those tiny gossamer 
balloons, floating along, light os thistledown, with gleam- 
ing, silken cobwebs trailing far behind like the tails to 
so many kites, by means of which the energetic balloon 
spiders accomplish their fall moving; and over all brooded 
the soft, hazy atmosphere of an Indian summer's day, 
There was no resisting such an invitation. I closed 
my books with a bang, hung my "out-o[-town-will-be- 
back-to-mon-ow" sign on the door, and was soon headed 
for the hills with a gun over mj^ shoulder and my good 
dog Twist trailing at my heels. This dog was a fine 
Irish setter, and his full name was Oliver Twist, which 
title he had acquired from his insatiable craving for 
"more." 
It was his first season with the birds, and I was frying 
to break him in. I had not hunted much in that part 
of the country, and had never before done any quail 
shooting to speak of, so there was all the charm of 
novelty in my surroundings, on this particular da}^ So 
far as Twist was concerned, my instruction was not 
likely to prove of much worth. 
But the rustle of the dead leaves underfoot was sweet- 
est music to my ears, and it mattered little to me 
whether I shot anything or nothing at all. In fact, when 
Twist flushed a covey of quail and sent them whirring 
away into the thick woods before I was within shot of 
them I merely reproA-ed him with a yell, and followed 
leisurely after the birds. 
I got three quail out of this covey, when I should have 
bagged at least eight. If the dog had been more ex- 
perienced such shooting would have been enough for 
him, and he would forthwith and forever have cut me 
from his list of sporting friends. Fortunately for me 
we were about on a par when it came to quail hunting, 
and each one's attention was wholly occupied with his 
own blunders. 
I tramped many miles that day, up hill and down dale, 
and along toward sundown bethought me that it was time 
to be starting homeward — and then I made a discovery. 
I did not know in what direction home was; in other 
words, I was lost. Those hills were so muclt alike in 
their general appearance that I could not get my bear- 
ings. There was nothing for it but to strike out in a 
straight line,' and trust to luck to come across some 
habitation. 
I put the plan -intb effect, but it was after dark before 
I struck even a roadAA'ay. I would have been in a sorry 
plight were it not for a bright moon that lighted up my 
way and made objects distinguishable in the darkness. 
I followed the road for a mile or more, and at last my 
eyes were greeted with the welcome sight of a light 
shining from the window of a dAvelling. I approached 
this seemingly lonely habitation, and greeted it Avith a 
loud "Hello, the house!" The door opened immedi- 
ately, and in the broad shaft of light streaming from the 
interior a man appeared, his figure assuming gigantic 
proportions as he stood there framed in the low door- 
way. 
••What's the trouble?" he' called out. 
"Lost my way," I made answer. "How far is it to M.?" 
" 'Baout six mile, I reck'n," said he. "Better come in 
and have some grub." 
I did not Avait to be urged. Through the open door 
I could see the bright fire burning in the big fireplace 
at one end of the room, over which a tea kettle Avas sing- 
ing merrily, and an appetizing odor of fried bacon and 
baked yams was Avafted to my nostrils. 
With a word of heartfelt thanks I entered the house — 
or, more correctly speaking, the cabin — and mine host 
closed the door and drew up a cracker box beside the 
fire with an invitation for me to sit down and make 
myself at home. 
We exchanged information regarding each other over 
our supper. Mine host's name Avas Saunders, I learned, 
and he lived in this small cabin by himself and "didn't 
ask no odds o' nobuddy, hi ganny." He Avas a man Avell 
on in years. His sandy hair and long, scraggly beard 
were plentifully streaked with gray, but he Avas still hale 
and heart}'-, and though past the three-score mark, "his 
eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated." His 
shoulders were bent, but this was more from his habit 
of sitting all hunched over, with elbows resting on 
knees, than from old age. 
Further conservation developed the fact that he was 
the owner of a certain black mule, Avith Avhom I bad 
preA'iously formed an undesirable acquaintance. 
1 declined Saunders' invitation to spend the night at 
his cabin, and also the loan of his mule, and feeling 
greatly refreshed after the plain but substantial supper 
whistled for Twist and started for home. Twist had re- 
galed himself Avith a fight Avith one of Saunders' dogs, 
and had Avon the fight and the cause of it — a ham bone! 
As I passed the barn a loud, blatant voice broke the 
stillness of the night. 
"It's 'that mule o' Saunders',' " said I to Twist as the 
familiar haw-hee! haw-hee! haAA'-hee! echoed all about 
the place. The sound seemed to follow us for miles, and 
I gave thanks that the black demon was safely housed 
for the night. 
Saunders and I became good friends after that. He 
v/as trying to obtain a pension from an ungrateful Gov- 
ernment, he informed me, and I drew up some papers 
for him, gratis,' ^nd jn tliig .Wi^y earned his lasting grati- 
tude. _ . _ mA, *.^< d^iJLl 
In return I received an invitation to joiii hinl Itt a 
turkey hunt. I had been longing for such an oppor- 
tunity, and gladly accepted his invitation; so the day 
was set and I arranged to spend the night Avith him, that 
we might get an early start in the morning. 
Now, in all my hunting expetience I had never shot a 
Avild turkey; in fact, had nevei- so much as seen one run- 
ning wild. I AVas therefore AvhoUy unacquainted with 
their habits, and relied upon Saunders to initiate me into 
the mysteries of the sport. He was one of the best shots 
and the most succesL§^ful turkey hunter in that whole 
region. 
We breakfasted by candle light, and then, with rifles 
in hand, Avent forth in search of the craftiest game bird 
of our woods. 
"Yo' got t' shoot 'em in the hade," Saunders ex- 
plained, as we walked briskly along through the etigp 
morning air. "Ef they sees yuh filst hit's good-by, 
J'onny, 'cause thev'U run like the devUl afore tlley i-ise, 
an' then hit's all oft". Ther' e'n't no tlleatiei- birrlids t' 
shoot, ther' suttenly e'n't, Quail e'n't nllthin' 'lOiliside 
o' turkeys. Hit's a good rtiaWnin* fet 'etn; Rfeck'tt We'll 
git one or two-.** . « j 
We had tramped thfCe oJ- fofit iii5le§, Wheii Sattildet-S, 
who was 'A little ahea.d of nie, suddenly paused and 
motioned for me to go easy. I crept up cautiously to 
his side. 
"Thcr's a roost over yonder," he whispered, pointing 
to a heavy clump of oaks in front of us. "Reck'n Ave're 
too late; but I'll just give 'pm a try fer luck." 
He squatted on the ground, drcAv a goose quill from 
his pocket and placed it to his lips. Had I not been 
prepared I Avould have sworn there Avas a turkey of some 
kind in the neighborhood. He repeated the call several 
times at' odd interA^als Avithout any result, and I was 
about to advise him to "give it up as a bad job," Avhen 
an answering call came from somewhere off to our left 
in exact imitation of tlie sound Saunders had made. 
The next five minutes Avere exciting ones. The tui'key 
approached warily, and seemed in no hurry to oflfer itself 
as a target for our rifles. 
"I see him," Saunders sttddenly whispered. "Try for 
his hade,, an* aim low." 
I strained my eyes itr the direction he indicated, but 
no sign of a turkey nor of any living thing could I see. 
"You'll have to take him," I whispered back. "I 
can't locate him. Go ahead and let him have it." 
Saunders' rifle slowly came to his shoulder, there was 
a moment's anxious suspense, and then a sharp report, 
and— I located the turkey. At the same instant I caught 
a glimpse of something scurrying away through the 
underbrush on mj^ right, and the next moment heard the 
flapping of heaA^y Avings. "Thar goes another," Saun- 
ders shouted, springing to his feet. "Hi ganny! he Avas 
a big gobbler, tew. 'We' mought 'a' had 'cm both." 
We ran forward to the spot where his turkey Avas 
flopping about' in its last convulsive struggles. It was a 
fine large bird, and I envied Saunders his success; but 
it only whetted my own desire to go and do likewise. 
"Reck'n we'd better work alone fer a spell," Saunders 
suggested when he had quieted the turkey. "You all 
go that a-Avay an' I'll keep on straight ahade. Keep 
yore eye skinned an' I'll meet yuh at t'other end o' that 
ridge yonder. I mought drive one over yore Avay, an' 
you all mottght drive one over t' me." 
I liked this plan, as it gave me an opportunity to 
blunder unobserved, so Ave separated. And I did blunder. 
I crossed OA*er the ridge, walking carefully and keeping 
a sharp lookout for any sign of a turkey. I had not gone 
far, when my efforts were rewarded by the sight of a 
pair of them disappearing over the crest of a ridge a 
long distance aAvay. I folloAved after them of course, not 
realizing the futility of attempting to run them down, 
noAV that they had taken alarm. 
I forgot all about Saunders, and "alone and with 
unabated zeal" kept on in pursuit of the game. 'Twice I 
caught a fleeting glimpse of their SAviftly vanishing 
forms, and then they spread their Avings and soared aAvay 
to parts unknown. 
I seated myself on a log and rested my weary limbs 
and gave myself irp to meditation. To begin with, I 
knew not from Avhence I had come in my circuitous 
wanderings, nor hoAV to find my way back again. Truly 
those hills Avere most confusing. I wondered Avhat 
Saunders Avould think of ni}' disappearance, and could 
not forebear a smile as I pictured his surprise at my 
mysterious vanishment. 
Suddenly I Avas aroused from my rcA^erie by a slight 
rustling of the fallen leaves and the snapping of a twig. 
I Avas on the qui vive at once. I glanced in the direction 
of the sound, and in a second every nerve in my bodj'- 
Avas tingling, and my heart Avas thumping madly, and 
my hand involuntarily sought my rifle, for before me, not 
thirt}'- paces aAvay, appeared the head and bronze throat 
of a turkey. The rest of its body was concealed by a log. 
At last my chance had come. I raised my rifle, took 
careful aim, and pulled the trigger. Immediately there 
Avas a great commotion in the bushes, and I sprang for- 
Avard and thrcAV mj-self upon the fluttering, squaAvking 
bundle of feathers and kicking legs. I had my hands 
full, as the turkey turned out to be a big gobbler, but 
I finally triumphed, although much scratched up and 
disfigured in the struggle. 
I held the huge bird aloft with both hands. My bosom 
SAvelled Avith pride as I gazed upon its ample propor- 
tions, and I gave a whoop of joy that "made the Avelkin 
ring." My shout of Adctory Avas answered by a faint, 
far-distant halloo. I called again, and received another 
ansAvering cry, and before long Saunders appeared 
upon the scene. 
"What in blazes be y' d.6in' aAvay back yere?" 'be in- 
quired in puzzled tones. 
"I was folloAving a paff turkeys," I replied. He 
had not discovered my turkey as yet. 
"FoUerin' turkeys, hey?" said he. AvIth a chuckle. 
"Waal, waal! I orter told yuh 't e'n't no use wastin' 
5^ore time that way. Reck'n y' faound that out by this 
time, hoAVSomever. Y* seem sorter dug up like." He 
eyed my many scratches, questioningly. 
"What do you think of that?" Avas my proud answer, 
as I stepped aside and pointed to my great prize — my 
first wild turkey. 
Saunders looked at the turkey, then at me, and then 
Jiack at the turkev ne^iiu, and a slow smile played about 
the corners of his mouth, gradually expanding, into a 
broad grin 
"I'll be doggonedl" he exclaimed. "Did you all kill 
that air birrudi"' 
"I most certainly did," 1 replied, striking an attitude. 
"Isn't he a beaUty?" 
"He suttenly is," the old man assented, with a 
chuckle. "He's 'baout the 'finest turkey in these yere 
parts. He's wuth nigh on to four dollars." 
"Four dollars!" I repeated. "You must be mistaken." 
"Mcbbe so," he replied. "But Sam sez that's Avhat 
he give fer him." 
"What do you mean?" I exclaimed, AA'ith an awful sus- 
picion stealing o'er me that things Avere not what they 
seemed to be. 
"Mean?" said he, and I shall never, never forget that 
moment; "Mean? Why, you all have gone an' shot 
Sam Hawkins' prize gobbler. Sam li\'es yonder jest 
qVet the hill:'* 
I collapsed; 
"What's to be done abotlt it?" 1 asked, helplessly, 
\>'hen I had tecovered ftora the first sllock of the painful 
disclofeUte: 
"Nuthiti', 'cep*n pay SSttl ht -tile ttltkey,** Sattndef.* 
draAvled, solemnly. 
Not to dwell too l6ng on a distressing subject, 1 did 
pay for the turkey — no matter how much — and I have 
never been v^ery enthusiastic over turkey shooting since 
Fayette DuruNj Jit. 
In the Shadow of Katahdin. 
"How be you?" .,T 
"Fine! How be you?" 
"Good! Say, you daren't go to Maine with me llj 
December!" 
"Don't be so stire; I'll go if you will!" 
"Good! Put it there!" We shook hands, and it was 
settled. 
My challenger, Mr. Wilbert Thomas, of Hamdeir, 
Conn., is considerably niy elder in years, but in actions— 
Avcll, this yarn will probably prove that there is abun- 
dant opportunity for improvement in both of \.u. Wil- 
bert is an extensiA^e garden farmer, and he dispenses 
luscious berries and other fruits to a confiding public 
in the summer time. Then he spends part of the pro- 
ceeds in chase of the elusive deer of Maine in the fall. 
In accordance Avith established precedent "the eventful 
day arrived." Dec. 4 found a gathering of relatiA^es and 
friends of both parties at Wilbert's house. They were 
there to say good-by and extend well wishes. In the 
gathering w^as a cousin of Wilbert's, Avho had shot deer 
in many States, and who mourned his unhappy lot in not 
being one of our party. He sighed again and again, and 
when the time came for the last handshake lie bolted like 
a Shanghai rooster for tlie back door. He acted so 
strange we feared for his sanity. "What time does that 
train go?" yelled he, Avith his hand on the knob. 
"In an hour and a half," answered Wilbert, in a dazed 
Avay. 
"I'm going, too; arid I'll see'yOU at the depot! Bang! 
The door slammed, and a dark streak shot across the 
fields and -disappeared over the broAv ot a hill. That 
streak Avas Elizur Thomas, Wilbert's nephew, and he 
Avas the first one at the depot. Wilbert and I had talked 
it up for months, and made preparations. Lide did the 
business in an hour and a half. 
Arrived at Millinockett, we failed to find the Spencer 
boys, who were to meet us there, and so Ave arranged to 
stop until the next day at least at Reade's camp there. 
Just east of this camp, Avithin 20 yards, floAVS the Milli- 
nockett River; and Ave were told it is a good trout stream. 
The camp is a neat, snug log affair, and for persons 
who prefer to be in touch with the railroad, telegraph, 
doctor, drug store, and civilization in general, and yet 
wish to hunt deer, this is an ideal spot. The viands are 
first cla-ss from a sportsman's standpoint. 
Dinner over, it Avas voted to try a couple of hours' 
hunt near camp. Moccasins and hunting togs Avere 
donned, and Wilbert and I took to the woods on the 
west bank of the river. Lide crossed the railroad bridge 
and tried the east bank. 
Wilbert's rifle Avas a light .45-70 Winchester, and made 
to his order three years ago. Deer had fallen before it 
on previous trips, and Wilbert swears by that gun. 
Lide carried a .38-70 model 86 Winchester, and it had 
tumbled deer in Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, the 
Carolinas and Maine. Lide thinks his rifle just right; 
and who can blame him? My rifle Avas a beautiful little 
half octagon nickel steel, .30-30 Winchester. The beauty 
Avas presented to me by my shop associates the day before 
ThanksgiA'ing, and was a surprise. There is greater 
significance in this to me than might appear in the mere 
telling. Shopmates usually need all spare change the 
day before Thanksgiving, and I sincerely trust the free 
contributions of my warm-hearted friends lightened the 
good cheer or no Thanksgiving table — not even to the 
extent of one small grain of salt. The little .30-30_is rnore 
highly prized than anything else in mj' den, for it is 
treasured and sacred, and its resting place shall be on the 
handsome antlers of the fine old buck Avhich came Avith 
it and me from the scented forests of the State of Maine. 
The afternon was glorious. The sun shone brightly, 
and the air Avas crisp and cold. The boughs of arbor- 
vitass, hemlocks and other CA'ergreens bent under a 
crystallized Aveight of crusted snow; and the dark recesses 
of the forest wei'e penetrated by reflection from the 
white mantle that coA^ered the ground. Here and there 
red squirrels frisked, and bluejays piped discordant 
notes, while snoAvbirds hopped from limb to limb. 
Nearby, the ceaseless A^oice of the river added solemn 
music, Avhich lent double enchantment to the scene. 
We folIoAved the Nesowadnehunk road for perhaps 
three-quarters of a mile. Then Wilbert pointed out a 
spot in an old tote road AA'here a nephcAV of his shot a 
deer two years before. Here the complexion of the 
forest changed, and hardAVOod predominated. After 
Avalking perhaps a mile through a heavy growth of 
beech, oak, maple, ash and other trees, I had my first 
sight of deer tracks — they Avere made by a doe and 
fawn. They Avere not fresh, and Wilbert pronounced 
them a day old. They looked good to in^, fof fheji' were 
the first I had ever sf^n. 
