1 z ■ 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
{March i, tgtii. 
Florida Rattlesnakes, 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Do wish the boys would get through and quit with their 
snake tales. Other — in fact all — subjects are more in- 
teresting and less harrowing. I have held out valiantly 
against the invariable desire to chip in, and am unable to 
remain virtuous longer. 
Mine is about large rattlers, or, rather, the skins seen 
in Florida. In the year 1893, before the railroad ex- 
tended beyond Rockledge, Lake Worth was visited by a 
comparatively small number of tourists. 
It was the Cocoanut Grove Hotel, if I remember cor- 
rectly, that stood near the site of the world-renowned 
Royal Poinciana, on the narrow strip of land between 
Lake Worth and the ocean beach. 
Outside of a few cleared spots, this strip was almost as 
wild and impenetrable as an African jungle. Situated a 
mile or more south of the hotel, and reached by boat or 
by a narrow path cut through the jungle, was the home 
place of a Mr. George Lanehart (as the name was called; 
I do not remember the correct spelling), and on his 
place was one of the finest specimens of the so-called 
rubber tree that grows down therej a species probably 
of the banyan. All visitors to the lake generally made one 
or more trips to Mr. Lanehart' s place, to see this really 
wonderful tree, and probably many of the readers of 
Forest and Stream have visited it, and may perhaps 
have seen, as did the writer, the skins of two enormous 
rattlesnakes that were killed on the place. 
Making it a rule to learn as little as possible about 
snakes, and to forget that little without delay, I can only 
give a vague outline of. the story told me about the two 
in question, together with a fairly definite idea of their 
size. They were said to have been the largest rattlers 
ever seen in that country, which was famous among the 
scattered settlers for large snakes. They were both killed 
near the house, one being discovered within a few feet 
of the front door, apparently engaged in leisurely select- 
ing a chicken from among the flock which had come 
around him. 
The skins were roughly tanned, with heads and tails 
cut off, and were hanging from nails on the walls of the 
workshop near the house. 
By estimation, I should say they were at least 7 feet 
long, and 18 inches across in the widest part. A gentle- 
man in our party, 5 feet 8 inches in height, and weighing 
140 pounds, stood erect against the skin, as it hung from 
the wall to within an inch or so of the floor, and the edges 
of the skin extended in plain view on either side of his 
body at the widest part, while at least 12 to 14 inches of 
it extended above the top of bis head. 
If any of the bulky skin was lost in tanning, as I un- 
derstand is usually the case, that interesting pair of rep- 
tiles must have had a waist measure of from 7 to 9 
inches in diameter. 
This is not very exact, but is authentic so far as it 
goes, and may remind some of the boys who saw them 
and took measurements. I can most emphatically and 
truthfully say that it is more exact and authentic as thus 
vaguely set forth after a survey of the tanned pelts, than 
it would have been had it been detailed from observations 
made when Mr. and Mrs. Rattler were still wearing them. 
Lewis Hopkins. 
awfu J?## and %nn. 
Proprietors of shooting- resorts will find it profitable to advertise 
them in Forest and Stream. 
The Boston Show. 
Boston, Feb. 24. — The Boston Sportsmen's Show is 
again open to the public. The opening night, an invita- 
tion affair, Friday evening, was well attended, considering 
that a snowstorm was raging outside. An attendance of 
over S,ooo showed that invitations had been liberal, and 
included most of the first society people of the Hub. 
Neither had the guides nor backwoodsmen been omitted, 
for they were there in good numbers. It was a "full- 
dress" affair for the gentlemen and ladies, and some of 
the "rigs" would vie with those of any Back Bay or 
Beacon Hill first-class affair. To some of the guides this 
feature was novel, and they found difficulty in recognizing 
some of the men and women they have guided and 
paddled in the woods dresesd in corduroy and homespun. 
Not so the men and women. They had no difficulty in 
recognizing Tim, or Billy, or John, or Charley, who did 
so much to make last season's fishing or hunting trip 
enjoyable. It was a good illustration of what water and 
forest sports are doing, especially for women, to see 
gaily dressed ladies accosting guides, evidently with 
pleasure. The opinion of the guides was quite forcibly 
expressed in the remark of one guide to another, after 
he had had the pleasure of escorting a lady about the 
show: "Gracious, hain't she a stunner. I paddled her 
four days on Lake last summer, and she caught 
trout and salmon, too, though new at the business. I 
was aware that she is nice and agreeable, but that rig 
knocks me!" 
The duck exhibit is one of the best of the show, includ- 
ing over 150 wild ducks and a couple of dozen wild geese. 
These birds take to the occasion; only give them water 
enough to swim in, and they afford a great deal of 
entertainment. A cage of ruffed grouse has again been 
undertaken, but their wildness is almost painful. About 
thirty of them in a wooded pen gives some chance to 
watch these birds, although determined to keep out of 
sight as much as possible. The "woods full of 'coons" is 
as good as ever,_ the little fellows keeping in the trees in 
all sorts of positions. A yard of Maine deer, is attractive, 
especially the one almost white. The elk exhibit is better 
than ever, while the buffalo are a new feature in Boston 
sportsmen's shows. Austin Corbin's game.-preserve has 
furnished another new feature this time— a 'wild boar 
sow, with a litter of pigs.' The beaver are again ©n 
hand, in a more copious tank, with plenty of wood for 
dam building. The little fellows are eagerly watched, but 
Tjhey seem to succeed only in cutting a little wood. A 
cage of prairie dogs are furnished with an abundance of 
sand for burrowing, but the sand is too loose, and falls 
back, leaving only a little nest. The common remark 
was, "Why do they dig, dig, all the time?" Unthinking 
people and persons not up in natural history ask such 
questions. 
The fish and fisheries exhibit is a stronger feature than 
ever. Mr. Richard O. Harding has had much to do with 
perfecting this exhibit. In a grotto, apparently under 
ground, the exhibit is seen at its best, the light coming 
from above. Great trout and salmon swim the tanks, 
with angel fish and other curious features. The exhibit 
of over 100 tropical fish leads to much wonder and de- 
light, on account of the beautiful colors of the individual 
classes. The fish are inhabitants of the waters of the 
West Indies. The still life display upstairs is good; the 
Eskimo settlement and other features of the frozen north. 
The gun exhibit is a rare one. The collection is admitted 
to be the finest in the world of what might be termed 
sporting arms. Here are old guns and new guns from 
several ages of the world. A part of the exhibit was 
once the famous Brooks collection of guns. Here are 
cross-bow guns, match locks, wheel locks, flint locks, per- 
cussion locks, down to the finest hammerless of the 
present day. 
On the whole, the show is the best ever given here, and 
that is saying a good deal, from the standpoint of sports- 
men. Its setting is exceedingly "woodsy," and one almost 
feels that if he should turn off the lights and let an owl 
or two hoot, he could be in the Maine woods again. The 
aquatic and athletic sports have been much improved 
upon, and will draw great crowds, while more room will 
be left to the students of natural history to study quadru- 
ped, bird and fish. 
There has been an addition to the deer exhibit at the 
Sportsmen's Show. It is a baby hog deer, born eight or 
ten days ago. Its mother was imported from Africa by 
the managers of the show. It seems that the breeding 
of African deer has received some attention in this coun- 
try, but that nothing had ever been accomplished in that 
direction till a fawn was produced from breeding a doe 
and a buck, shown here at the Sportsmen's Show of 1898. 
There seems to be little doubt that the hog deer is 
rightly constituted for breeding in this country, since the 
fawn produced has grown well and is now a fine buck. 
Several newly captured deer from the wilds of Maine 
have lately been added to the herd of Virginia deer that 
are in the show. One, a handsome buck, as wild as the 
woods from which he came, was in serious trouble when 
first liberated in the deer park. He is graceful and agile, 
and at first seemed untamable. But all at once he seemed 
to make up his mind that nothing was to harm him, and 
now the wild deer is one of the first to run to the game 
keeper when he approaches and ask for some choice 
morsel, such as his native wilds near Mt. Katahdin, did 
not afford. Special. 
A Snap Shot. 
A good many moons ago, before Texas had as many 
.railroads as she now has, most of the mails there were 
carried by stage, those in the western part of the State 
generally being carried in buckboard wagons that were 
drawn by two mules each. 
There was one of these star routes that extended from 
Fort Hill in the north clear to Fort Concho in south- 
western Texas. Along this route about every thirty miles 
was a relay station, a small corral and a cabin, both 
having loopholes in them to shoot Indians through, for 
the Indians would call here now and again. Only a 
single man was to be found at one of these stations, un- 
less one of us who acted as escorts for the mail should 
happen to be here. I was in this escort then, and my 
favorite stopping place, when not on duty, was at the 
station at "Mountain Pass," half way between Fort 
Griffin and the Concho. 
I was here a few days at one time in the summer of 
1869, and one day when examining the mules that the 
station keeper had' here I found one of them sick; he ap- 
peared to have the distemper and we got him out of the 
stable right away, turning him loose in the chaparral 
back of the station. It rained that night, and the follow- 
ing morning the mule was missing, so I offered to go 
and look him up. 
It was still raining a little, but I wanted to hunt any- 
how, so taking my Spencer carbine with the magazine 
full and a load in the chamber, I started. The ground 
back of the station here was covered with a thick growth 
of mesquit, which looks something like young peach trees 
when you first see it. I carried my gun under my right 
arm with the muzzle pointed down to keep the inside of 
the barrel dry, and was walking along slowly, looking at 
the ground hard, trying to find the mule's trail, when 
suddenly a large doe (I have never seen but one that was 
larger) jumped up right in front of me. She had been 
lying at the foot of a bush trying to keep out of the wet, 
probably, and when she got up she was not ten yards 
from me. There was plenty of time yet for me to raise 
my gun and take aim properly, but I did not do it; but 
taking hold of the barrel half-way back from the muzzle 
with my left hand, I swung the gun out, holding it still 
on a level with my side, and pulling back the hammer, 
fired, just as the deer had begun to run from me; I had 
the gun pointed at her, of course, but had taken no aim. 
She jumped clear off the ground, then throwing herself 
backward fell and lay still. 
I walked up to her and found that I had hit her in the 
neck, just where it joined her head; the ball had passed 
clear through her head and out between her eyes. 
I stood here a minute or two looking at her. I had 
always made it a rule never to sho®t a doe if I could 
aim at a buck, and never to shoot either with a shotgun. 
I have stood to one side and let a doe go when I could 
have blown her all to pieces with a shotgun. I was after 
turkeys, then, not deer. 
I was rather sorry now that I had not missed this one. 
I might try this trick a hundred times again, though, and 
miss every time. 
Leaving that mule to hunt himself now if he wanted to, 
I took hold of the deer and began to drag it home, but 
having my gun to carry made slow time and had not gone 
far when the station keeper met me; he had heard my 
shot, and a shot out here generally means Indians, so 
he had lost no time in getting to me. 
He handed me his gun, then tried to lift the deer to 
carry it. He could not, though, and had to drag it all 
the way home. We hung the deer up and after dress- 
ing her i started to look for the mule again, it having 
cleared off in the meantime. I found the mule several 
miles from the station, still going west; had he kept on 
west the Comanches would likely have found him; they 
were the Indians we used to hold shooting matches with 
every once in so often out here. Cabia Blanco. 
Camp-Fire Stories from Canadian 
Woods. 
VI.— Deer Hunting on the Madawaska. 
In the northern part of Central Ontario exists a vast 
region unknown until recent years to the tenderfoot or 
even to the ordinary hunter. Here, situated upon the 
headwaters of the rivers running northeast, south and 
west, is located the "Algonquin Park." This region, a 
veritable sportsman's paradise, has been rendered accessi- 
ble by the building of the Ottawa, Arnprior and Parry 
Sound railway, afterward incorporated into the Canada 
Atlantic System, which has been recently sold to Dr. 
Webb and his New York syndicate. 
For years I had anticipated an outing in this country, 
but so often as I had commenced to lay my plans, just 
so often something turned up to upset my calculations. 
But, as things always come to those who wait, at last my 
desire was gratified. 
In the fall of 1892 an invitation to join in a deer hunt 
at the "Egan estate depot" on the upper Madawaska was 
kindly extended by the agent to myself and friend, "N," 
who ; was, by the way, a newspaper man and a "tender- 
foot." A cordial invitation to partake of the hospitalities 
of a lumber depot, with a deer hunt thrown in, was not 
to be slightly treated. Therefore during the last days of 
October we repaired by an uneventful journey to May- 
nooth. Now, this place, situated in the northerly part of 
the county of Hastings, one hundred and twenty miles 
from the frontier town, is not to be confounded with Ire- 
land's "Parnassus," but is the name of a small village 
comprising about a dozen or so houses, scattered along 
a country road, which does not possess the dignity, im- 
portance or modern improvements sufficient to be called 
a street. It was, however, prior to the building of the 
railway up the Madawaska valley about thirty miles be- 
yond, the entrepot for the great lumber region lying to 
the north, and a brisk trade was carried on here during 
the lumbering season. It was the extreme limit of com- 
fort and civilization in this part of the Province. For a 
few miles out there were settlements, and then, extending 
away northerly to the shores of Lake Nipissing lay a vast 
unbroken wilderness. 
Here we engaged a conveyance to carry us the remain- 
ing thirty miles of our journey, and it was here our ex- 
perience began. That luckless spring wagon; far better 
would it have been for us had we packed our dunnage in 
a bag, and, shouldering our "turkey" and other outfit, 
trudged along on foot in the manner of shantymen. 
The last fair day of the season was spent by the driver 
in tinkering his wagon, and, had we taken advantage of 
it by an early start, we could easily have walked to our 
destination. We started, however, on the following 
morning, and it began to snow. 
For two miserable days of storm, rain and snow rafter 
breaking down and sundry other mishaps; after exchang- 
ing our spring wagon for a "cadgers;" after spending a 
night in a miserable "stopping place," and after walking 
a larger part of the way through mud and snow, we 
reached the depot, tired, drenched to the skin, and 
heartily disgusted. 
No pen picture can adequately convey an idea of those 
roads; they must be experienced in order that they may 
be appreciated. Five or six hundred weight is a fair 
load for a team with wagon. Riding up steep hills and 
then down almost perpendicular declivities is quite a 
"hair raising" experience to one not accustomed to it; 
while jolting and bounding into deep ruts and mud holes, 
ever boulders, or long stretches of "coy-du-roy" trans- 
form, without much stretch of the imagination, the spring 
seat of a cadger's wagon into a bucking bronco. 
The colonization roads, as they are called, in all the 
newly settled districts of this Province afford a fruitful 
source of patronage to the Provincial Government. An- 
nually about $100,000, and in the year preceding an elec- 
tion, a much larger sum is expended upon these roads, 
Tbe plan is to furnish sums varying from $100 to $1,000 
to supporters of the Government to be expended in im- 
proving or making certain pieces of roads throughout all 
the newly settled townships. Each road-boss respectively 
engages men and teams to perform the work under his 
supervision. Supplies must be purchased and other in- 
cidental expenses incurred and all the. money generally 
goes to Government supporters, so that the farmer, the 
laborer, the merchant, and the mechanic all participate 
in this species of patronage. When we consider the 
hundreds of road-bosses, the thousands of employes, and 
the numbers of tradesmen and mechanics, almost all of 
them composed of poor and struggling settlers in this 
rocky and ungenerous region,, to whom a few dollars 
means a great deal, the effect of such patronage may be 
easily imagined. It is not at all surprising that the op- 
position should view with suspicion and characterize the 
annual appropriation for colonization roads as a huge 
electioneering fund. 
In the more densely settled localities the work is en- 
trusted to local men, who, as a rule, honestly expend the 
money, but where the settlers are few, jobs are too fre- 
quently given to needy politicians living miles away who 
have no interest in the localities where improvements 
are to be made, and, in these cases, there is perhaps 
too much force in the settlers' complaints that the moftey 
is not honestly applied. 
In all this region there is no "till," or hard-pan beneath 
the mold to support a good roadbed, but the light, 
ocherous soil extends downward to the rock, and the 
waters from the rains and melting snow rush down "the 
montainsides like a mill race, leaving the roadway strewn 
