Mov. ID, igoOij 
FOREST AND: STREAM. 
369 
manufacturing concern has, and would undoubtedly re- 
sult in much improvement over the ordinary way of 
cutting timber in this State which so often has left a trail 
of stagnation behind it." 
E. Hough, 
Hartford Building, Chicago, 111. 
In Iowa Game Fields. 
Marshali-town, la., Nov. i.— Duck shooters straggling 
in from northern Iowa lakes report dull sport. One party 
has been at Ruthven, where a hunting shack with com- 
plete equipment found few ducks coming in. The weather 
has been unfavorable to duck flight, having been spring- 
like and warm. The ducks are still in the far northern 
waters. Though the migration flight which twenty years 
ago made our Iowa feeding grounds the best of sports- 
men's resorts has moved further west, there are still a 
number of excellent duck points in the State. The writer 
has in mind a rice lake where he did his chicken shooting 
this fall where the ducks drop in by thousands on their 
semi-annual flights. He does not care to advertise it, but 
will answer any inquiry from legitimate sportsmen. No 
market-shooters need apply. 
Quail are especially numerous this season. In a short 
drive through the rural districts I have counted a half- 
dozen bevies. A sentiment in favor of sparing them would 
exist strongly were it not for the fear that a hard winter 
might render the shooter's self-denial useless by the de- 
struction of the birds he spared. Good cover is abundant 
close to the city, and good sport obtainable by an hour's 
drive. 
The Gun Club is in a flourishing condition, and with the 
return of such members as have been absent at resorts 
and on extended trips to Europe and elsewhere, will 
hold their weekly shoots, E. G. Wallace, who is de- 
veloping into an expert target shot, came home from the 
recent Ottumwa meeting with second high average. 
Rowland Robinson is represented in our city public 
library by a single work, his "Danvis Folks." It is a pity 
that a complete list of his books mav not be found in every 
public library or reading room, for he taught the un- 
written gospel of the groves and streams as no one had 
done Isefore. His sightless eyes turned backward in 
retrospection saw more and better than the unclouded 
retinas of others. With the exception of Ian Maclaren, no 
writer has given us such pen pictures, such character 
sketches. Pure as the mountain brooks he knew, sparkling 
and clear as their rippling shallows, all he wrote whispered 
of a brave broad man whose absolute knowledge of na- 
ture led him to love its every manifestation from man- 
kind to a blade of grass. How many of us there are 
who, rtterly unknown to him, knew and loved him 
through hi-, pen and mourn his departure, will never be 
known. But I shall teach rny boy to read him and 
.strengthen thereby an intuitive love for the woods, the 
covers and the streams — the only heritage he may ever 
receive from n\e. Surely among the Elysian fields there 
must be mountains, brooks, low.lying lakes and wind- 
waved woods whereon his reopened eyes may feed and 
where hi'^ unchained feet may wander. Let us hone so. 
MOSCRIP. 
A November Afternoon. 
All the morning the sky was hidden by solid gray 
clouds, and a keen northwest wind swept across the 
dreary dun colored grass of the prairie, and rustled 
noisily among the dead blades of the corn. At noon 
the snow began lo fall, the cold and the wind increased. 
The ducks grew restless and sought the cornfields for 
shelter and food. They seemed to know that they had 
Imgered in this bleak country as long as they dared 
to. and that the time had come for them to fill their 
crops with corn and then begin a long flight to the 
south. 
The man with the gun stepped out of doors. It was 
chilly, dreary, and the warm .stove invited, him to stay 
by it. He turned to go in, but thought he would first 
go around the house and look over the big cornfield. 
The snow was so thick that he couid not see more than 
three hundred yards; but within his range of vision were 
mallards, apparently tliousands of them, scores of flocks, 
all flying low and circling and wheeling over the corn. 
In five minutes he saw a dozen bunches of them settle 
into the corn. He turned and went into the house, but 
the hot stove and the warm room had no charms for 
him now. He slipped on the old "dead grass" shooting 
coat, saw that the powder flask and shot pouch were 
full, dumped a whole box of Ely felt wads in his pocket, 
slipped a box of Ely waterproof caps in his vest, and 
picking up the gun, gave a look at the old setter, who 
got up from behind the stove, and the two old friends 
went out into the storm. 
A little way out in the corn a big flock wheeled into 
range and two shots brought down one mallard. At 
the report of the gun, thousands of mallards rose all 
over that one hundred and sixty acres of corn, with a 
roar and rush of wings that sounded above all the noise 
and tumult of the storm. After watching the ducks a 
few minutes the man and dog looked at each other. 
"Well, Sinner, they're here and they are going to stay 
too. The way to do it is to go to the leeside of the field 
and work back against the wind; then the shooting won't 
scare them so much. We will sure get 'em this time." 
Sinner wagged his tail, and cut a few capers, which 
meant "You bet," and they took their way along the 
side of the corn toward the far end' of the field, the 
man paying no attention to a number of fair shots he 
might have taken at ducks that flew in range. The 
man and the dog talked to each other as they went along, 
and the great prospect for sport and the stimulating 
influence of the snow and the bracing cold made them 
so exuberant that they actually stopped two or three times 
to shake hands over it. 
Having reached the lee side of the corn just in time 
to see a lot of ducks settle in the corn a hundred yards 
out in the field, they walked swiftly toward them. 
Going slowly as he neared the spot, the man presently 
saw what looked like a cluster of small stakes about 
knee high. They were not thirty-five yards distant, but 
no inexperienced 63^6 would have taketi these motionless 
stakes to be the upstretched heads of inallards, but that 
was what they were, and a man of go6d vision could 
have seen an eye in each of those inert looking stakes. 
Shooting where the stakes showed the thickest, three 
ducks were laid out dead, and the second barrel brought 
down one as they rose. Before the gun could be re- 
loaded, several good shots were oflfered by ducks that 
rose and wheeled over the field. The man stood right 
there and loaded and fired for more than an hour, taking 
nothing but easy shots; and almost every shot bagged 
a maflard. The ducks seemed to be so blinded by the 
snow, or so intent on filling up with corn before they 
started south, that they paid no attention to the man, and 
but little to the shooting, for the noise of the storm and 
the swishing corn blades made the sound of the gun 
seem far away.' At last the ammunition was getting 
low, and the bag of ducks very heavy, for there were 
some thirty-odd of them. The man stopped shooting and 
tied the ducks in two bunches together; then taking a 
leather strap from his pocket, tied the two bunches 
together, threw the strap over his shoulder, and marched 
to the house. By the time he got there his load was so 
heavy that he weighed it. It weighed 98 pounds. Next 
morning the storm was over. The sun shone bright, the 
wind was quiet, the thermometer below zero, the ponds 
frozen, and high in the air long lines of ducks, geese and 
brant sped southward. 
.So ended the duck season of 1874 in western Iowa. 
O. H. Hampton. 
Colorado Deer. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Below is an extract from a letter written by Capt. James 
L. Bradford, of New Orleans, from Glenwood Springs, 
Colo., early in September. The Captain is an enthusiast 
of the old school — the "Sam Lovel" school — whose ardor 
is tempered with moderation. His record of the chase is 
garnished by many antlered heads and many inches of 
notches on his several rifle stocks ; but he knows when 
not to shoot, and his letter betrays an undertone of 
sorrow at the unsportsmanlike slaughter of the Colorado 
deer; 
" * * * I got back here last night from a hunt 
up in the high 'parks' about forty miles to the northward. 
I was gone just nine days, having only three full days in 
the camp, the rest of the time having been spent in reach- 
ing and getting out of that inaccessible region. I went 
from here by rail twelve miles westward to Newcastle ; 
thence by vehicle to Rawson's Ranch, on the White River 
— the- highest one up that stream; thence, seventeen or 
eighteen miles northeast by pack animals to the camp. 
"The elevation of the camp ground is about 10,000 
feet, and the mountains and peaks around it go much 
higher, the whole region being well watered, and all, ex- 
cept the peaks and mountains, generally covered with 
forests of aspen, Norway pine, spruce pine, etc. Prob- 
ably three-fourths of the surface is covered with timber 
and all with uncommonly fine grass, wild oats and other 
food for deer. 
"There were some elk, a few antelope about the parks 
and as for deer. I fear to tell you the truth — I never 
would have believed such things. Thej- are there by 
thousands. The biggest, fattest, stupidest things you ever 
could imagine. I went out on foot parts of two days, not 
traveling over two or three miles each time, and suppose T 
saw thirty or forty each day, chiefly does and half-grown 
fawns. The law allows each hunter to kill but two 
deer (no elk), and they must be bucks. I only went out to 
secure two big bucks, intending to prepare them to be 
mounted whole by the taxidermist here, hence refrained 
from shooting until a big buck presented himself. I 
easily got a shot at one (four does leading him), and 
brought the great buck and his antlered glories down. A 
gtxide helped me to prepare that one. When that task 
was done, I had no desire to get the other, so did not 
fire another shot. 
"Coming down the trail by pack next day, a herd 
sprang up out of the tall grass, and, as usual, stood 
stupidly gazing at Us. The buck stood only 60 yards 
off, till I drove him away. I had not the heart to shoot 
down the noble animal and leave him where he fell. But 
many of the hunters are not so scrupulous, and dailj' slay 
the bucks, perhaps bringing in the head and hams to 
the camp, leaving the rest for the wild animals and 
magpies. The taxidermists have my skin, horns and 
hones, and promise me a fine job of it. 
"* * * They are very fat always, and the bucks 
will often go to 300 pounds in weight. But there is 
no pleasure nor skill in hunting or killing them. Indeed, 
no one hunts them at all. Two or three persons ride 
along together, usually leaving canip about 10 or ti in the 
morning, and soon the deer, singly or in herds, begin 
to jump up. They usually stop at short distances to 
stupidly stare at the intruders, who, having selected the 
buck, one, two or all of them will fire, and the great 
buck usually .stands till he is shot down. If he doesn't 
fall in sight of them, they ride on and repeat the opera- 
tion till one falls at a convenient distance. Often they 
leave them where they fall, not even bringing in the head 
or the hams— never anything more. Some (but few) 
hunters shoot down does and fawns, and leave them, too, 
where they fall. Had I shot at all, as they offered, I think 
I could easily have killed twenty a day, all from the 
saddle. 
"In the early days in south Alabama — in 1850, '51, '52, 
etc. — where I have always heretofore thought and said 
that the deer were more plentiful than anywhere else in 
the world, they were not one-fourth so abundant as I 
found them here. But there is no sport in ' hunting 
them, nor any skill required to kill them. A true sports- 
man scorns such slaughter. A boy ten years old shot 
down a monster buck. Town boys, tenderfeet and all 
shoot them down about as well as veteran hunters." 
The Captain will pitch camn in the Coldwater Swamp 
again this fall. His buck will be bagged there by dint 
of all the wiles of sportsmanshio. He will scout beyond 
the outposts of Buck Ranch and return with much spoil 
of victory. Tripod. 
Mississippi. 
The Forest and Stream is put to press each week on Tuesday. 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach us at the 
latest hy "b^Qpiay and 9* much earlier h practicable. 
A Deer in^ the Village. 
Essex, N. Y., Oct. 31. — Editor Forest and Stream: I 
used to think I was a lucky hunter, but having just lost 
my fourth chance at deer since Oct. i I have been com- 
pelled to revise the opinion. I had just finished my 
sponge bath this morning, and had on one shoe, when, 
happening to glance out of the window of the room I 
was in, which is on the ground floor of my house itt 
Essex village, I saw a yearling doe not over 25 yards 
away. The deer was skulking along by an arbor-vitae 
hedge, and had apparently just come up from the shore 
of Lake Champlain, which is less than 100 yards away. 
A ten-gauge shotgun was at my elbow, and in a drawer 
beside it were some shells loaded with No. 6 shot. I 
had a few buckshot shells somewhere, but on the spur of 
the moment could not remember just where I had put 
them. As this passed through my mind, the deer raised 
her head and looked toward the house, and apparently 
hearing some lioise made a couple of short jumps and 
disappeared through the hedge. If she had waited a 
second longer I would have sent a charge of No. 6 
through the window at her, but by the time I had the 
shells in the gun she was out of sight. 
Stopping a moment to pull on my other shoe, T ran 
to the back door and out of the house hatless and clad 
only in my underwear. The wind was blowing from 
the south, and the deer had gone north, and to cut this 
veracious story short, I did not see her again, though 
I returned to the house and dressed and carefully hunted 
over two neighboring pieces of woodland. 
Apparently she had followed a small brook which runs 
within fifteen rods of the house down to the lake, and was 
making her way back, possibly, to the Boquet Moun- 
tains, three miles away, when I saw her. 
Only a short time ago a deer was killed by squirrel 
hunters in a small piece of woods south of the village, 
and deer have been seen quite close to Essex at various 
times during the summer. 
I have not heard of any one else seeing this particular 
deer which is the occasion of this letter. It was a little 
before 7 A. M, when I saw her, and few persons were 
abroad. J- B. B, 
Shooting in Western Pennsylvania. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
The reports recei\*ed from all parts of the country- 
show an unusual number of squirrels. Quite a number df 
very fine black squirrels have been shot near here, an 
unusual circumstance of late years. Gray squirrels are 
abundant— evidently on their autumnal migration. 
Rufted grouse and quail show up in goodly numbers, 
while rabbits are plentiful enough to assure good sport 
as soon as the season opens. 
It takes a man with some life and nerve to stand a day's 
tramping over our rugged hills, which are in many places 
very precipitous, but the sport afforded will well repay 
all effort. Our State has some of the finest effects in 
woodland, sky and hill contour to be found anywhere, 
an the Allegheny River and its numerous tribuatary 
creeks aft'orcl some good sport for the lovers of rod and 
line. One day last month Uncle George _ came 
down from Jefferson county for one more trial with the 
black bass, and he proved that in spite of his 70 years 
he was too wise for half a dozen nice ones in one daj'-'s 
fishing. He fished from the same shore rocks that he 
used while fisbin.g here before the war of '61-65. Some 
day I may spin a string of anecdotes and fish yarns of. 
strings of pike and pickerel in Eastern waters, trout in 
mountain streams and bass and perch in the streams. of 
Pennsylvania, Virginia and other States, incidents of the 
fishing life of Uncle George during his 65 years' devotion 
to rod and line. 
I believe that the most obdurate landowner could be 
won over to espouse the cause of the gentlemanly (note 
the ly) gunner if properly handled. By some means get 
him to your town or city home, and treat him right, and 
then tell him you would like to go shooting with him. 
He will invite you to hnnt on his farm and will get per- 
mission of all his neighbors to hunt on their farms. As 
a rule city residents would not care to permit farmers 
strolling into their grounds, and lounging in their ham- 
mocks, or circling about the driA^es on their bicycles, 
without so much as a "by your leave," and in some 
respects Turalists are - mtich like mortals as found in 
cities. 
If the farmer has a bo}'^ or girl interested in field sports 
or natural history, you might make a staunch friend by 
mailing j^our read copies of Forest and Stream to be 
re-read in that farmhouses home with more interest than 
you ever dreamed of. Try it and prove the truth of my 
su.ggestion. George Enty. 
Templeton. Pa. 
Northern Pennsylvania Shooting. 
Sayre, Pa. — The delightful days of latter October have 
furnished those who love to be afield many hours of rare 
enjoyment. Ruffed grouse abound in plentiful numbers 
in nearly all the likely covers of these northern counties, 
and while the shooting maj' be classed as of the strictly 
rugged sort, it has its glorious compensations. These 
vanishing October days have been fully the equal of those 
which have swept along the avenues of time in former 
years. With hillsides aflame with those colors which 
only the Divine artist has at ready command, and with 
the fine, soft air tiding gently across country to heal 
and exhilarate, the sportsman has indeed found himcslf 
under fairly ideal conditions. Large scores on ruffed 
grouse, the noblest member of the elusive grouse family, 
are the exception in this section of Pennsylvania, but 
the air and the sunshine and the visions of a graceful 
landscape more than equalize any deficiencies which 
from some viewpoints may appear to exist. 
Mors and more it has come to be an accepted phrase 
of the brotherhood that it is not all of shooting to shoot; 
and to a greater degree than ever before men who go 
afield are now measuring their pleasure by the elements 
of health and vigor in the air, and the inspirations 
aroused by studying the ever lovely face of nature, rather 
than by what the handy hammerless brings to the coit 
pfocket. 
