Jan. 24, 1903.1 
FOREST AND _STHEAM 
6S 
It was afterward discovered that the poor animal had 
been suffering from tuberculosis. This is, I under- 
stand, a very rare sight in the Canadian woods. But 
the principal story which Joe started out to relate was 
in connection with his lumbering on the Quebec & 
Lake St. John Railway some years back. He was one 
of a large camp of men who for some days had been 
complaining of a bad odor which hovered over the 
camp. The stench became so great that the men com- 
plained to the foreman, who was encamped some dis- 
tance away. The log house was given a thorough 
cleaning out, but the odor remained just the same. 
Then a search on the outside. The mystery was 
solved. The rotten carcass of a big buck caribou was 
found within two hundred feet of the camp. A closer 
investigation illustrated the cause of death. His two 
hind legs had got caught between two rocks, and there 
he remained wedged in as tightly as a steel trap could 
hold him. All sportsmen know the strength of the 
caribou and moose, and it was surprising even to the 
shantj'men to believe that he had come to his death 
by staravtion. He was unable to extricate himself 
from between the two rocks. Nevertheless, such was 
the case, both his legs having been broken in his ef- 
forts to break loose, and as he bore no other marks 
of having been shot by any hunter, there could be no 
other reason ascribed for his fatal end, which was con- 
sidered an extraordinary death for the fleet-footed cari- 
bou. 
******** 
Now it was Albert's turn! This staunch old guide 
I had employed for many years. He was on a hunting 
trip with a well-known friend of mine. The latter had 
been successful in badly wounding a big caribou, which 
Albert had called down from the mountain side to the 
.edge of the lake. The shooting took place in a canoe, 
;and the huntsman and guide paddled ashore and en- 
itered the woods to find their prize. He was lying ou 
jthe ground, to all appearances dead. Albert pulled out 
ihis long knife and straightaway commenced the first 
;act on an occasion of this kind, which was to insert 
ithe blade into the animal's neck and allow the blood 
tto flow. He had stooped down to do this, when the 
.supposed dead buck gave a grunt, followed by a leap 
jinto the air, and before the two astonished men knew 
what had happened, was oft into the woods again. The 
ihuntsman, quick with his gun, succeeded in following 
:bim with a shot, which broke one of his hind legs and 
•penetrated his body. After a mile chase in the woods 
they came across the buck once more on the ground. 
'This time dead in reality. Examination of the first 
Itwo shots fired from the canoe was made, and they 
were found to be so insignificant that to this day the 
guide or my friend have never been able to discover 
the reason the caribou lay down and played the part of 
death to such perfection as to deceive them beyond 
any doubt. 
******** 
Ned was the only English-speaking guide in the 
group, and, although last in the recital of camp yarns, 
his was none the less interesting. The whole of the 
Canadian Adirondacks are mountainous and abound 
with rivers and lakes, as all those who have hunted 
or fished in this grand country can very well testify. 
The preserves we were in were particularly so, and 
the more I wandered through them the more surpris- 
ing grand and mystic they seemed. While the Tourilli 
Club, of which I am a member, boasts of only a hun- 
dred or so lakes, I am sure the number is more like 
a thousand. This is very much in evidence with all 
the fish and game clubs in the northern part of Que- 
bec. They control so much territory that it is almost 
impossible for the clubs to keep track of the numerous 
lakes and rivers which are contained in their preserves. 
One thing sure, Ned knew of three times as many lakes 
as the best informed members of the club. His father 
was guardian of one end of the limits, and his winters 
.were spent trapping and hunting, and his summers in 
; acting as guide to the members. It was while on one 
.of his trapping expeditions that he found himself in 
.one of the prettiest valleys in the whole preserves. 
\The mountains towered thousands of feet above him 
.'on all sides. He was returning home when he espied 
small herd of four caribou within easy range of his 
"trjusty rifle. He first fired at the largest and missed. 
It ^was long before the fish and game laws of the 
jProvince of Quebec were so strict as they are to-day, 
; and Ned had no scruples as to how many he would 
; shoot , if he had the chance, but it came to him in a 
rmost unexpected manner. After the first shot, the 
.small h^^rd ran in an opposite direction to where he 
. was, then as suddenly turned and came back almost 
. straight to where he was standing, under coA-er of a 
. small growtli of swamp foliage. Ned had no idea of 
. what had occurred, but imagined he was in for an_ ex- 
, citing battle. He came to the conclusion the caribou 
rwere going to attack him, so he prepared for the on- 
; slaught. On came the small herd at a frightened rate 
(Of speed, bounding in leaps and jumps over the snow, 
\which at that time was not more than a' foot deep. 
When within a hundred j^ards a second shot from Ned's 
rifle brought the foremost animal to the ground. The 
firing only had the effect of hastening their speed, and 
a third and fourth shot laid low two more of them. 
But it was only a minute's work. One of the three 
woimded animals arose and continued on with the 
fourth, and passed .Ned in such flight that he missed 
fire the next two shots, and his Winchester being 
empty, he did not have sufficient time to reload, and 
follow the fleeing animals, but instead gave his atten- 
tion to the two on the ground, which he desired to 
make sure of by firing two more shots into each before 
approaching. And now for the secret of the peculiar 
.action of the caribou in running straight into danger. 
It appears that the echo of the surrounding hills had 
misled them to think that the sound came from the 
, opposite direction, and at first impulse rushed into close 
range of the hunter, who Avas evidently a quick and 
: accurate shot, under the circumstances, to bring down 
two out of the four while running at full speed past 
.him. 
******** 
^ The fire had gradually been burning itself out, and 
when the guides asked if they would heap on more 
logs, I said, "No, boys," we have had an interesting 
night of it, and we had better get some sleep for to- 
morrow, as we may have some novel experiences of 
our own to relate at the next camp gathering. And 
so we had. F. C. 
The Reporter. 
[From FoRF.sT AMD Stream, Dec. 19; 1SS9,] 
I W'OlsrDER if we have reporters in America? What a 
question! Are not our newspaper reporters the best 
and most indefatigable in the world? But I do not mean 
the_ reporting homo; it is the reporting caiiis I am won- 
dering about. Do we have reporting dogs in America? 
If so, I have not seen them, neither have I heard of 
them. Our stories about the pointing dogs revolve about 
"the point," and of the dog's sticking to it like grim' 
death. "He's so steady on a point that you can't kick 
him forward on to the bird," says the dog trainer in high- 
est praise of the brute he is trying to sell. And we all 
recollect the story of the crack Avestern dog, that was 
lost at tlie close of a day's shooting. Search was made 
next morning, and the dog was found in the brush, close 
to where he was missed the night before, and still point- 
ing the game he had come upon as darkness overtook 
him. So I doubt if Ave have "the reporter" in the Land 
of the True, and perhaps a Avord about him may not be 
uninteresting to American readers. 
I was out partridge shooting in the south of Sweden in 
the fall of 18S4. I had a sprightly fellow, Joseph, as 
guide and bearer of cartridges and game, and Avas shoot- 
ing that day over an old German pointer a friend had 
loaned me, so that I could give my own dog a day's rest. 
We had enjoyed a fairly good day's sport, and toward 
evening Avere returning doAvn the valley of the river 
Nissa, toward our headquarters at Oscarstrom. We Avere 
tired, the shooting Avas over, and our dog was alloAved to 
roam at will. As Ave sauntered along I saw old Lila 
make her appearance over the top of a distant heathery 
ridge. She looked up and down over the valley, and as 
soon as she caught sight of us came toAvard us in a 
straight line on a brisk gallop, Avagging her tail in a joy- 
ful sort of Avaj'. Coming in she raised a forepaw, placed 
it or: my leg, looked up in my face, Avagged her tail brisk- 
ly, turned about, took a dozen leaps back in the track she 
had come, then looked aroimd at me and Avagged her 
tail again. 
"Well, what does all this mean?" asked I. 
"Oh, Lila has a covey of partridges over the hill 
yonder, and has come in with the report," ansAvered 
Joseph. 
"Nonsense !" 
But Lila rushed on a dozen steps more, looked back, 
and seeing I did not folloAV her, came in, put up her paw 
and again went through all her motions. 
"Well, old girl, lead on!" I said at last, "we'll follow 
and see what you'A^e got at all events." So over the hill 
Ave Avent, Lila leading and ever and anon looking back — 
doAvn across a valley, then sti-aight up the further hillside 
Avhere she came to a point at a bunch of bushes. 
Before I got Avithin shot the partridges began to whirr 
up ; at least a dozen flew, but old Lila stuck now to her 
point, and on my reaching her side the last bird of the 
ccA'ey flew, which I knocked over and Lila retrieved. We 
noAV hunted along the bosky hillside, and Lila pointed and 
I shot six more of this covey, bringing up my bag for the 
day to nineteen partridges and a hare. 
"You din't knoAV Lila Avas a seporter?" quoth Joseph. 
"No, I did not knoAV before this day that there was 
such a dog in the Avorld." 
Since then I haA^e made the matter of "the reporting 
dog" the study of some leisure hours. The reporter 
occurs most often among German pointers, or in crosses 
between German and English pointers, but even among 
them not more than one trained dog in tAventy is a re- 
porter. The trait is rare among English full bloods, and 
I have never yet. seen a setter report. 
It is asserted that a dog cannot be trained to report. 
The reporting instinct must be born Avithin him, and then 
he takes to it naturally. I, however, am inclined to 
think that any dog that "rings" game, or from any 
cause breaks his point to take up another, may be trained 
to report, by Avhistling him in, Avhenever he comes to a 
point, and then adA^ancing with him to the quarry. "Re- 
porters" have different Avays of imparting their informa- 
tion; not every dog is so clear as old Lila. Some come 
back only till they make themselves seen, then return 
directly to the game. Others hop up on a hillock or 
stone and jump and Avag their tails till you approach. 
Here in Sweden a reporter readily sells for one-third 
more than an equally good dog Avithout this faciflty, and 
I can assure American sportsmen that the report lends 
an additional pleasure to the chjse. 
As the shooting season approached this year I looked 
about for a reporter, and at last bought a large, pOAverful 
pointer, a cross between the German and English. The 
German dog is exceedingly kind, faithful and obedient, 
but too heavy and sIoav. The English pointer, Avith all 
his good quality, is apt to be too hot and headstrong. 
The half-breed is best for Swedish shooting, and, I be- 
lieve, admirably adapted for America. 
I shot black cock and capercailzie OA'er Nero, and as 
the season adA-anced partridges, but as I always kept Avell 
up Avith liim ncA^er saw him report, and had half forgot- 
ten that he possessed the accomplishment. One day my 
boot hurt me, and leaning my gun against a fence I sat 
down, took off my boot, pulled- off my stocking and made 
a general readjustment. As I Avas lacing up my boot in 
came Nero over a rise of the field, and looking up at me 
turned about and came to a half point, then looking up 
once more shot along the track whence he came. Fol- 
lowing OA'er the hills I came in vicAv of the blue waters 
of Lake Nefode; Nero Avas still rushing on in a straight 
line over the field. When he reached the lake shore he 
came to a point at a tuft of dry rushes. But it Avas an 
easy kind of a point. Every few moments he looked 
back at me, and expressed his satisfaction at my ap- 
proach Avith one Avag of the tail, which instantly stiffened 
into business again. Reaching his side a little flock of 
seven partridges hustled up, and I had the pleasure of 
dropping a couple, and Nero the satisfaction of retrieving 
them. Since then I let Nero hunt as far and wide as he 
pleases, confident that he will come in and report all 
game he finds out of my sight. I frequently wliistle him 
in when he points at a distance, and then advance over 
the field .side by side with him. Sometimes when Nero 
points at a distance, and is sure that I see him, he will 
lie down, so as not to scare the birds, rising on his 
forepaws now and then and looking back at me if I 
make any unreasonable delay. 
The other day he came to a point far away over a vast 
ploAved field. Looking around and making sure that I 
saw him, he backed in his tracks a dozen steps and then 
disappeared from view as absolutely as if the black 
plowed field had swallowed up his Avhite body. We kept 
on toward the spot where he was last seen, and after 
some five minutes' plodding OA^er the soft upturned earth. 
Master Nero arose out of a dry ditch just in front of us 
and quietly resumed his point. Coming up Avith the dog, 
two great coveys of partridges arose, my friend made .1 
right and left shot out of the flock to the right and I took 
a bird Avith each barrel out of the left covey. 
The trait of reporting causes a dog to be freer and 
easier on his point, he is less lilce a cast-iron statue, more 
like a reasoning being. 
As Nero and I advance on a running covey, he lifts his 
ears, looks up at me and takes in the situation, "like a 
little man," pointing noAV here, noAV there, and ringing 
the game in between us if necessary. 
A reporter really seems to go through a chain of reason- 
ing somethmg like this, "Here is game, but where is my 
master? Of myself I can do nothing. Here's for it. I'll 
go hunt him up, for it takes both of us to do the shoot- 
ing." 
Frequently when Nero makes game I hide to see him 
go through his motions. Gradually he stiffens into a 
solid point, then looks around, first one side, then the 
other. No master in sight. Then he slowly backs out of 
it, step by step, a dozen steps or so; next he turns round 
as slyly as a snake, then sneaks away, and in another 
moment is in full gallop toward where he last saw me. 
I ahvays meet him Avith a pat on the head and a "Bravo, 
Nero !" It seems to me that the advantage of a reporter 
is at once apparent, whether it be on the Avide prairies of 
the West, in the hill country of the East, or in the dense 
Avoodcock coverts of New England. What a comfort and 
luxury to have a dog who will come in and report game 
and then lead you quietly to it. Hoav many forced 
marches in the alder swamps one might save, and how 
lazily he could saunter along the ridges, leisurely Avaiting 
for the report of his faithful four-footed friend. Ameri- 
cans are never satisfied with anything short of the best. 
If Ave have not the reporter in America, Ave have not' 
the best possible pomting dog. 
Is not the subject worthy the attention of our dog 
breeders and dog lovers? Why not import the German 
reporting pointer and cross with our best pointers of 
English blood? Or why not develop and perfect the re- 
porting instinct whenever it manifests itself among our 
OAvn dogs? 
Of one thing I am sure, the American sportsman who 
has once shot over a reporter has experienced a new ]"oy 
iji life, and this joy he Avill ever keep, if he can, among 
the many pleasures Avhich give zest to the life of the true 
lover of the chase. Marstkand. 
Stockholm. Sweden. 
Besieged by Indians. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Every once in a Avhile we get a more or less interesting' 
Indian story in the columns of the daily papers. They 
are written sometimes by a man who does know an In- 
dian Avhen he sees one, but as often as not they may have 
been gotten up by a man who met his Indian in front of a 
cigar store. 
This account of the siege of Flat Top by Comanchiis 
has started its rounds lately — I haA^e seen it in tAvo differ- 
ent papers already — and it is no doubt still going; I don't 
expect to stop it ; it is a beautiful story, only it does not 
happen to be true. 
"A short time ago," writes a correspondent, "I took a buck- 
board at Stamford, Jones coimty, which is the northwestera 
Texas terminus of the Texas Central Railroad and droA'e to Flat 
Top Mountain, a distance of twenty miles, through a pastnre 
which incloses under one fence 100,000 acres of grazing land. Flat 
Top is one of thousands of buttes scattered irregulai'ly in that 
region. From its pinnacle one can see as far as vision can reach. 
It is now a land of farmers and stock raisers, but when I was 
there, between twenty and thirty years ago, it was a land of death 
and danger. 
"In 1S76, the year of the Custer calamity on the Tjittle Big 
Horn, being then a Texas Ranger, I lialted at Flat Top with a 
squad of eight Rangers. By some strange means the Comanches 
and Apaches jtist beyond the Texas border had learned of the in- 
cident of the Little Big Horn, and elated with the success of the 
Sioux, the Southern savages were bent upon massacre. Reynolds, 
a sergeant, called 'Mage,' was in command. Standing on the 
ijeak of the butte, he saw through his telescope a string of Avar- 
iiors, two hundred in number, moving rapidly toward the site 
now occupied by Stamford, where a dugout sheltered the family 
of a buitalo hunter. 'We must save them,' Reynolds said, and 
in less than five minutes seven men were trotting toward the ad- 
A^ancing line of Comanches. The eighth man was galloping sovith.- 
ward to secure re-enforcements. 
"The wife and children of the hunter were taken up behind the 
Rangers, and by a rapid march a rugged hillock was reached 
just in time. The Rangers were armed with carbines and re- 
volvers, and Mrs. Carr, the wife of the hunter, had a long-range 
buffalo gun, left at home by her husband, who started a week 
before to trap beaver on the upper forks of the Colorado. The 
Comanches were allowed to ride within close range, when a volley 
unhorsed five ot their number and disclosed our position. Sur- 
prised, and no doubt badly frightened, they retreated in confusion. 
Our horses, which we had abandoned, were runiiing over the 
range, and were soon caught by our foes. 
"By the number of horses they ascertained our strength, ex- 
cept that Mrs. Carr Avas not figured in U^ei^ calculations, and the 
warriors began preparations for a siege. We had a few pounds of 
jerked buffalo meat and a little bread. Water was at first a grave 
consideration, and we felt the more concerned becavise of the fact 
that the children were already crying from thirst. After dark we 
found a small spring at the foot of our natural fortress, and Ave 
soon filled out canteens. The food supply was placed in Mrs. 
Carr's hands, and she proved a vivandiere worthy of the trust. 
We ascertained afterward that during the thirty-six hours of the 
siege she ate nothing, dividing her share among her little ones, 
and leaving all the rest for the men. 
"To cut the story short, the Comanches made desperate efforts 
to rush our fortress, each time retiring with loss, Mrs. Carr slaj^- 
ing a big buck with a bullet from her heavy carbine. Our courier 
returned at sunset on the second day of the siege, accompanied 
by Mr. Carr and thirty cowboys from a Coleman county ranch. 
After a fierce battle the re-enforcing men broke throiigh the 
cordon of savages and entered our fortress, bringing plenty of 
food, ammunition and water. The next day the Comanches raised the 
siege and departed toward the Double Mountain fork of the 
Brazos River. They left their dead, seventeen in number, being 
in a hurry to get away, because, as we afterward learned. Major 
John B. Jones, the commander-in-chief of the Ranger force of 
Texas, was approaching the scene from the Pan-Handle with three 
