266 
horse now had disappeared. There were no trees. 
Adargo pinioned his assailant by rolling on the fragment 
of rope until those dire horns could strike no more. 
From this it would seem the island goats may be legiti- 
mate game. 
Just at present the local ethnologist, or other scientific 
sharp, must feel his imagination fired by the relics un- 
earthed every day from Burton mound, over at Santa 
Barbara, in digging a foundation ■for the immense Hotel 
Potter, as all sorts of ghastly finds are being disclosed, 
such as Indians with the bowl that fed and the murderous 
weapon, squaws, papooses, toys, utensils of many kinds 
—all with historic value. The hotel will have a museum 
in which to preserve whatever may be deemed suitable. 
Excavation has tapped a sulphur spring. The most 
valuable discovery has been a bar of silver, estimated to 
be worth three hundred dollars. 
A story that came to me a short while ago, in which 
the responsibility of ownership seemed involved, showed 
how many citizens in good repute, through no overt act 
or dereliction of duty, could become offenders against 
the game laws of their State. Paso Robles, a town of 
15,000 inhabitants, situated in San Luis Obispo county, 
was aroused from lethargy a short while ago by having 
its main thoroughfare become the scene of a lively deer 
chase in which nearly every dog about engaged. It 
should be remembered that the new State law holds a dog 
owner responsible if his dog be caught chasing out 
of season. The county game warden should make his 
arrests. Any town at all would have had several hun- 
dred dogs in the field. The deer disappeared. 
A recent decision of the Supreme Court in this State, 
by which John A. Howard, of Visalia, Tulare county, 
must pay the penalty for fraud, should appear odd to the 
Easternintelligence, for the defense in this instance had 
been that the accused had really shot thousands of squir- 
rels within the limits of his county, a feat which might 
have made it hard for him elsewhere. But the Cali- 
fornia gray squirrel, a ground variety though so much 
like the Eastern tree squirrel, is about the worst pest 
with which the local rancher must contend, and Tulare 
offered a large bounty for tails. Reward so inspired- 
Howard with zeal to do good that he wandered over into 
Alameda county, where pests were worse, and de- 
- stroyed there many thousand of the Philistines, then re- 
turned home across the State only to be arrested for ob- 
taining money by false pretenses. Tulare was par- 
simonious toward her sister county. 
The large pasture beyond our street, where an injured 
horse was shot a fortnight since, has now become a field 
of tragedy in which the twelve year Leather Stocking 
next door with a huge wolf trap plays thrilling part. As 
bands of coyotes had been singularly obstreperous all 
winter, immediately after the death of the horse our boy 
acquaintance set his dire scheme of trouble on its meat 
hoping thereby to arrest a stealthy foot, and since that 
time we have attributed every night yell to the pinch of 
cold steel. A brindle bulldog had to be released on the 
second morning, and several mornings ago another 
vicious cur. The trapper has relented now, and would 
spring his source of annoyance, if possible, but he can- 
not approach it even within easy throwing distance. 
Nearly every resident here boasts of what I am told 
is dog, and many of the owners are women, so the strong 
men may yet have to go out and shoot the trap. Its 
owner will never be president now. 
Nordhoff, Cal. H. R. SXEIGER. 
Camp-Fire Stories from Canadian 
Woods* 
VHI.— Deer Hunting on the Madawaska. 
Unfortunately for our hunting plans, the stormy sea- 
son had set in with more than usual severity, blinding 
sleet, rain, mists and wind presented an endless variety' 
of discomforts while tramping through the forests. We. 
however, made good use of every passable morning, and 
fell in with a fair share of luck. 
Upon our arrival at the depot we found Jim Haskins, 
the most successful trapper and hunter in all this region, 
who proved to be an ideal nimrod, courteous and yet 
retiring, he allowed others to proclaim his successes in 
the chase, rather than boast of his own skill. His knowl- 
edge of woodcraft and the habits of wild animals, his 
skill in getting up to them, and his keenness of sight, was 
marvelous. No liquor or narcotic habit had ever im- 
paired his nerv,es, and his aim was deadly. He despised 
hounding deer to the water, looking upon it as sport 
only for boys and greenhorns, and insists that still- 
hunting is the only legitimate sport. 
Sitting on a watch on a lonely point, listening to the 
musical bay of the dogs bringing a deer to the water, is 
very inspiring when told around a comfortable camp- 
fire. But five or six hours' lonely watch on a cold 
November day in a drizzling rain, or a driving storm of 
sleet and snow, calls for a large amount of zest, and the 
wind roaring around the hill tops and the splash of the 
cold waves on the shore, convey no poetic fancy to the 
mind of a shivering novice. 
The weather had been simply execrable; a whole week 
had passed and we had secured only three deer. One 
afternoon the weather showed signs of clearing up; we 
decided to change our plan of operations. Accordingly, 
on the following morning, by the gray dawn, five of us 
started out in the direction of Victoria Lake, taking a 
couple of dogs to use in case a deer should be wounded 
and was getting away. We proposed to hunt in the 
gullies lying between the mountains to the north of the 
Madawaska and running in the direction of the Macaulay, 
where we knew deer to be plentiful. Our idea was to 
approach a certain locality from different directions, some 
of us thus driving the game toward the others. 
In the early morning, after an hour or so of brisk 
walking, the quick eye of Haskins detected game. Stop- 
ping and pointing up the mountain side, he exclaimed, 
"See that buck!" Now, to the unpracticed eye a deer 
in the woods at the distance of 300 yards or so is not 
so easily "picked up." We all desired N. to take a 
chance shot, but he looked for the deer in vain. After a 
little parley it was decided that R. (the farm foreman) 
should try a shot with his Winchester, .40-82, "sporting 
cannon.". Raising his sights, R. took a knee rest and fired. 
forest: and stheam. 
An exclamation from one of the party intimated that 
the deer had fallen, while I contended that he had bounded 
off toward the "brule" below. Spreading ourselves across 
the glen, which widened out from above the spot where 
the deer stood, Haskins circled around so as to drive 
him toward us. AVhen he got to the "brule" he heard 
a deer whistle, but could not get a shot. He found no 
traces of blood, and started for the place where the buck 
had been standing, when out from the thickets dashed a 
large doe. He took a quick shot as she galloped over 
the mountain, but only succeeded in breaking her foreleg, 
but could find no traces of R.'s deer. R. by this time 
was getting a little disgusted, and coming toward me said, 
"I'll bet that deer lies just where I shot him. I pulled 
carefully for his shoulder ; the buck you saw was another 
deer. See here where they have been fighting this 
morning." 
For yards around the snow had been cut up with tracks, 
had been packed in places where one had the other down ; 
logs had been rolled over, sticks knocked about and 
every evidence existed of a pitched battle recently had 
between these monarchs of the forest. R. started for the 
spot and found his deer where anticipated. Calling 
Haskins to assist him, they brought down the deer trail- 
ing over the snow. He was a fine one, with large antlers. 
Hanging him up by the roadside, we left Haskins to care 
for him, while the rest of us looked after the wounded 
doe. C. was to let go the dogs. His own spaniel had 
followed unbidden — a good partridge dog, but small dogs 
are generally a nuisance in a deer hunt, for they are 
always just at the place you do not want them. 
Three of us were to station ourselves on different run- 
ways leading toward the river, which was close by. We 
had scarcely reached our places when C.'s whistle warned 
us that the dogs had started. So soon as they reached 
the track of the wounded doe, a blast of bugle notes 
rang out, loud and clear, upon the frosty morning air. 
As they ran over the mountain side, covered with snow 
and glistening in the morning sun, their rising chorus 
was echoed from hill and mountain top for miles around. 
A deer with a broken foreleg will run as fast as with 
the leg uninjured, but so soon as the opportunity occurs 
will lie down to rest, and upon this we counted. The 
dogs soon came upon her, and circling back she came 
down the runway upon which I was stationed. I could 
hear the jump and was bracing myself for the supreme 
moment, when to my chagrin C.'s spaniel ran out yelping 
and turned the deer before I could get a shot. R., who 
had wandered too far up the mountain side, was return- 
ing, and seeing the deer making down the roadway, com- 
menced firing as he ran after it. Presently the sound 
of shots from the same locality warned me that the deer 
had taken to the river. I struck out over logs and 
brambles and reached the river completely blown. There 
was the deer swimming near the opposite side with two 
dogs a score or so yards behind, all in the form of an 
inverted letter V, while on a point above stood R. empty- 
ing the magazine of his gun as fast as possible. I joined 
in the fusilade, and as the deer was rising the opposite 
bank managed to hit it in the neck. It had been severely 
wounded by R. Once out of the water the dogs soon 
came up, and she made down the river. The rule is to 
"shoot as long as you can see a hair," but the dogs were 
so close up I dare not risk a shot here, but I finally suc- 
ceeded in striking an object directly in front of her, 
which caused her to hesitate for a moment, and the fore- 
most dog seized her by the hind leg. Instead of attempt- 
ing to fight the dogs, she made a dash for the river. N., 
who by this time had found his way to the bank just 
opposite, instead of waiting until she swam up to him, 
commenced blazing away. The deer turned down stream 
and reached an island which had formerly been part of an 
old beaver meadow. R. had now got down opposite the 
island and could only see the tips of the ears as she lay 
in the tall grass. After a couple of shots a welcome shout 
announced the hunt was over. 
The island was separated from the main land by a 
narrow channel of about thirty yards, and which was 
frozen over. Our bark canoe was away up the river, and 
we were at a loss how to get our deer. C, who was the 
lightweight of the party, testing the strength of the ice 
with a hatchet, managed to cross on all fours, while R. 
followed him. In the meantime, Haskins having come 
down to the high bank of the river to look over matters, 
called out, "Look sharp; that deer is alive and going to 
jump." The doe made good his words, and started for 
the shore. As she jumped upon the ice she fell, broke 
through and commenced breaking her way, her forelegs 
beating time like a tatoo. C.'s spaniel now had the 
temerity to jump upon her back. She shook him off, en- 
deavoring to strike him. I warned C. to call his dog 
off, but too lata. On the spaniel returning to the attack 
she made more certain of her aim, and the little dog went 
under, never to rise again. N., who had the only gun 
present, commenced to shoot at the jumping deer, and 
finished her at the second or third shot. After consider- 
able difficulty we got our deer to the shore and found 
that no less than nine shots had taken effect and only 
the tenth, through the head, had stopped her. It is a 
question, under the circumstances, whether this was 
creditable to experienced hunters and generally good 
shots, but then, it had been a running fight all though. 
We spoiled our venison. However, we got the deer, and 
in this we were lucky, for, in nine cases out of ten, in a 
"racket" of this kind, the deer gets clear away. 
By early afternoon we had two more deer hanging up 
in the woods, and we returned to the depot well satisfied 
with our day's sport. 
On the following morning four of us set out for a 
chain of small lakes north of the Madawaska, and near 
Victoria Lake, called the Little Blue Sea. 
Air. M. ( the agent, came upon six wolves devouring the 
■carcass of a buck recently killed, of which nothing re- 
mained but the head and shoulders, the meat of which 
was still warm. By the marks upon the snow the struggle 
had continued for about half a mile before they finally 
got him down. He had been an old patriarch of the 
forest, and his head now adorns the walls of my library 
as a memento of my hunt. 
The wolves are very destructive throughout all our 
forests, and hundreds of deer are slaughtered by them 
annually. The wildcat, that most voracious of all animals 
destroys both fawns and partridge, the latter when they 
bury themselves in the snow. The foxes also destroy 
[APRiL S, iooi 
fawns, and are particularly destructive to partridge. It 
is to be hoped that the increased bounty offered by the 
Government and the stringency of the game laws will 
turn hunters' attention to these pests of the forests. 
We secured only one deer this morning, when it came 
on to rain, and we returned to the depot. This finished 
our hunt upon the Madawaska. 
N. and myself returned homeward with eight deer 
and a goodly number of partridge and red lake trout to 
gladden the hearts of our respective friends, who had, by 
former experience, good reason to expect that our liber- 
ality would be in proportion to our success. 
E. B. Fraleck. 
The Hunting Rifle. 
Scotch Lake, New Brunswick, March 25.— Editor For- 
est and Stream: In Forest and Stream of Feb. 1 Mr. 
Frederic Irland, in his article, "Hunting With Henry 
Braithwaite, has started a controversy on hunting rifles 
for big game, that with your permission I would like to 
take part in, and I think I can show, and, if necessary, 
prove, that the small-bore can and does, when in good 
hands, make as clean kills on moose as the big bores with 
their larger, but slow, bullets. 
I have a great respect for Mr. Irland, and I assure you 
we are not going to quarrel about any rifle. I have never 
had the pleasure of meeting him, and that is my loss, not 
his, though I have tried to several times, and I am sure 
we will yet. 
I agree with Mr. Irland that the .30-30 is not an ideal 
moose gun; the charges of powder and bullet are too 
light, but it is all right for deer or caribou, and has killed 
many very large moose, but there were other large ones 
it failed on that the .30-40 would have downed. 
There are very few men that have had a better chance 
to see the effects of different hunting rifles on big game — 
moose and caribou — than I have had in the last four 
years, and I consider the .30-40 the best American-made 
rifle on the market to-day. I don't say it is the best rifle 
than can be made, or the best rifle that has been made, 
for I believe there is a Blake rifle made — .40-60 — with 
about the velocity of the .30-40, that ought to be a terror 
on moose, but I can't find it on the market. The Mauser 
and Mannlicher have about the same effect on moose as 
the .30-40. They seem to have a little more power. 
My experience with the .30-40 began in September, 
1898. A sportsman brought one to my camp at Nictaux 
Lake. He killed a caribou with it at about 250 yards 
with one shot; it was well hit and dropped at once. 
In 1899 there were two .30-40's at my camps; they killed 
three moose and one caribou; one of the moose and the 
caribou dropped in their. tracks the first shot; each of 
the other two moose were hit with one shot and staggered 
about ten yards, and fell dead. In 1000 we had several 
.30-40 rifles at our camps, a Mannlicher and some 
Savage rifles. The .30-40's and Mannlicher killed all they 
hit clean — six moose, I believe, and several caribou. Near- 
ly all dropped at the first shot; none went over twenty 
yards after they were hit. One moose, which I shot 
myself at about 200 yards, dropped in his tracks the first 
shot; he was hit high in the shoulder; the bullet went 
through the shoulder blade and broke his spine. I killed 
a caribou and two large bears, not in traps, on the same 
trip; all fell in their tracks at first shot. I used a .30-40 
with soft-nosed bullets. In 1901 six moose were killed at 
my camps with the .30-40, all that were hit with that 
gun, and none of them went 20 yards after they were 
hit by the first bullet. 
Now these are a few facts that I am prepared to prove. 
Some of these animals I shot myself, most of them I saw 
shot, and nearly all I examined and helped skin. I also 
see game killed by the .45-90, 45.70, .38-55, .30-30 and 
Savage, and I find that an animal hit by a bullet from 
the .30-40 or Mannlicher, if hit in the same place, will 
go down quicker than when hit by a bullet from any of 
the other rifles mentioned. 
Mr. Irland in closing his article in Forest and Stream 
of Feb. 1, speaks about a moose that a sportsman who 
was with me last fall lost. I will explain how this hap- 
pened. The gentleman was Mr. J. W. Y. Smith, of 
Moncton, N. B., and he writes about it in Forest and 
Stream of March 1. Mr. Smith was at my camps, but I 
was not with him personally. When we made arrange- 
ments for him to come I wrote to him, as I do to all 
sportsmen coming to my camps, that if he did not have 
a good powerful rifle he had better get a .30-40; his an- 
swer was that he asked leave to differ with me, that he 
thought there were other as good rifles as the .30-40. He 
came in the woods with a half-magazine .30-30. He ex- 
plains the rest. That was not the first moose that got 
up after being knocked down with a .30-30 that I have 
seen. Had he been using a .30-40 the results would no 
doubt have been different. Yet it is the man behind 
the gun after all. You must hit them about right if you 
want to kill them quick. 
If we settle down to. solid facts, what does this big 
bore vs. small bore amount to? There are big-bore 
cranks, among whom are Mr. Irland and Uncle Henry; 
there are small-bore cranks — I am one of them/ and I 
know of many others. Can the big-bore men show a 
cleaner score for their favorite than I have shown for 
the .30-40, and prove it? I like the smokeless rifle. I 
can see where the bullet hits. When the fur flies from 
an old bull's ribs at the crack of the .30-40, I say "He is 
our meat," and it proves to be a fact. Some men claim 
the .45-70 or the .45-90 to be the ideal moose gun. and 
they have killed many moose. So has the .30-30, but it 
is not the best. Uncle Henry's .577 is much better than 
the .45, but it is not on the market, and I don't think it 
would be a favorite if it was. The big-game hunter 
wants more than one shot before he has to stop and load. 
I had the pleasure of using, and seeing used, last 
season, a rifle that I think for power will not be far be- 
hind the best of them. It is owned by Mr. A. Weed, of 
Providence, R. I. ; is a .38-72, with special nickel steel 
barrel, and Mr. Weed loads the cartridges himself with 
52^ grains of the same powder used in the .30-40. and a 
275-grain bullet, metal-patched and soft-nosed. With it 
he killed his big bull moose, which at the first shot 
dropped in its tracks; also a caribou and deer, and when 
he left my camp he left the rifle for me to use on game. 
I also used it at target and found it had a much flatter 
