JAK. 31, 1903.1 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
87 
it is evident that the same deer get reported from two 
to six times, and the results of these figures are of no 
vahie. The only reliable figures are those given by 
the railroads, which are something over 5,000. This 
covers all carried out of the State by visiting sports- 
men, and includes all their guides had shot for them, 
and certainly this is half of them, and hundreds bought 
by them, and all those taken by residents of our cities 
and towns near railroad stations. To double these 
figures will, I think, account for all illegally shot or 
those which die from wounds. This last, I think, will 
be fully one-fourth as many as those secured. 
Men lately in from some of the grounds which were 
hunted as hard as any, report deer as very plenty, and 
can see no decrease. I believe our deer are more likely 
to suffer from lack of food than any other cause. 
Many people have an idea that they can kill bears 
by coming to Maine. In August and September, when 
the skins are worthless, a few are killed on blueberry 
grounds and near streams, and a man might possibly 
stand one chance in one hundred to get a shot; but in 
the open season for deer and moose the chances are 
not one in one thousand to shoot a bear. I think I 
have handled at the lowest 5,000 bear skins. In buying 
some 200 a year I have rarely bought over two or 
three well-formed old bear which were shot out of a 
den. Our bears are nearly all trapped. We have a 
good many bears, but the bears reported to be shot 
by ladies or carried home by sportsmen, were mostly 
in traps when shot, and I have known of old skins 
being shot and carried home as trophies. 
We hear a great deal about the abundance of small 
game in Maine. Close around cities and towns we 
have a very few ducks, plenty of rabbits and some 
ruffed grouse. I have no acquaintance with the region 
west of the Kennebecs, but know most of the country 
east and clear up to the north corner monument, and 
can say that we have extremely little small game. I 
have traveled the woods over fifty j'ears and have 
never seen a gray squirrel away from the settlements. 
I have many times been out from four to eight weeks 
- and never seen a single rabbit, unless I was near some 
burned land grown up to poplars. As to ducks, ex- 
cept sheldrake, we have very few except on the sea- 
shore. If a party should shoot a dozen ducks in a 
month they would do better than the majority do. 
Rufifed grouse are usually very scarce in the deep 
woods. What few are seen they can usually kill, but 
if a man can average killing one a day when away 
from settlements he will do better than I ever did, and 
I have spent years in our woods. I can usually start 
more grouse in a day near here than in a week in the 
woods. I can find more grouse near Portsmouth, N. 
H., Andover or North Hampton, Mass., than I can 
in any place in Maine I ever saw. 
If a man comes to Maine after moose and has a 
guide who understands his business, he stands a fair 
chance. If he wants deer and knows anything about 
hunting he can get his quoto. If he thinks he can 
shoot a bear out of a trap, he will be likely to go home 
empty handed if he hunts ten years. If he expects to 
get small game he had better hunt close home, as it 
is not here. M. Hardy. 
Teenton, N. J., Jan. ig. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
I read with much surprise an article by Mr. George A. 
Pete, in which he deals out his criticisms of Maine, her 
wardens, her laws, etc., with a most generous hand. 
He says : "The wardens are a miserable set of lazy hotel 
loungers." I have lived in Maine a number of months of 
the past years, very much longer than Mr. Pete, according 
to his story, and have had special facilities for knowing 
the game wardens and their work, and 1 am glad to be 
able at this time to say that they are conscientious, ener- 
getic, hard working officials, who deserve the highest 
commendation for the impartiality and vigor with which 
they enforce the law. Whenever it becomes necessary ti> 
stop at a hotel, the visit is always of the briefest, unless 
there remains very good reason for prolonging it. Win- 
ter and summer alike their time is spent in endless cross- 
ing, to and fro, over the sections where the game and fish 
need their protection. Many of them seldom even drive, 
but strike into the deep forests afoot for very great dis- 
tances. 
I have no doubt that some of the farmers or lumber- 
men do kill an occasional deer illegally. For this the 
game wardens are not responsible. It would be abso- 
lutely impossible for any man to capture a poacher of this 
description without first having some information to 
work on, and then one would have to camp on his trail 
for weeks perhaps without getting the necessary evi- 
dence to secure a conviction. In spite of this, however, 
a surprising number of clever captures are made. 
As to this bugbear of lumber camps being supplied 
with illegal venison, it is the veriest rot. There have been 
cases, but they are invariably found out and punished. 
The logging crews are nearly all known personally to 
the wardens, and if a camp has one or more characters 
in it who would be likely to shoot game out of season, 
that camp would pretty certainly get its full share of close 
surveillance. The bosses themselves have more to lose 
than to gain by allowing illegal venison to be served, for 
past experience has taught them that the warden is apt to 
turn up at any time. 
Mr. Pete says that in one camp of thirty men 278 deer 
had been served in a single season. Before believing this 
one ought to find out how many days these men spent in 
the woods, the approximate amount of this meat a man 
could eat in a day, and also how many of the crew did 
absolutely nothing but hunt deer in season and out. By 
the time he figured out these items he will have come to 
the conclusion that Mr. Pete is one of the most gullible 
of mortals. At any rate he is greatly to be censured for 
not giving his information, if he really possessed any, 
to the authorities. Perhaps, in the open season, venison 
v/as constantly serv^ed, but one must not forget that these 
men were entitled to sixty deer. 
I would like to know how Mr. Pete found out that 
the wardens seldom visited the lumbering camps "because 
the}^ did not like the accommodations." Did any warden 
ever tell him so? As for the number of arrests of lum- 
bermen for illegal shooting, the information can be had 
for the asking. If Mr. Pete really believes that "no 
lumberman has ever been arrested" he must have gone 
very deep into the woods, and, I fear, has not come out 
Maine game is increasing all the time, and it is greatly 
owing to the indefatigable zeal of the wardens that this 
is so. They are greatly responsible for the good time Mr. 
Pete has there or he wouldn't go, would he? He does 
go, does he not? Oliver Kemp. 
Thanksgiving Mallards* 
Hartford, Mich., Jan. 26. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Reading in a recent number of the Forest and Stream 
of Uncle Eph's desperate struggle to get a turkey for 
Thanksgiving, reminds me of a struggle which my 
3^oungest son Ned and I had in getting a brace of mal- 
lard ducks for a Thanksgiving dinner. The boy and I 
wanted a chicken for Thanksgiving, but the madam in- 
sisted that nothing but a brace of mallards would fill the 
bill. "Well," 1 said, "if Ned will paddle the canoe down 
the Paw Paw River, I'll endeavor to get a pair." So 
bright and early the day before Thanksgiving we started 
down the river, Ned in the stern with the paddle, I well 
forward with the trusty Parker, ready for immediate use. 
We had gone down several bends and were rounding 
a sharp point where tall willows grew to the very water's 
edge, when there sprang from the water three lusty mal- 
lards. Quick as thought the gun was brought to bear 
below the tops of the willows, between myself and the 
ducks. The result was a shower of small twigs and limbs, 
and we saw the much coveted birds with their long necks 
headed down stream. The boy censured me for not wait- 
ing until they had got further away, but I protested that 
it would have been no better had I waited, and that it 
was on account of the willows that the shot had not been 
successful. Ned says, "Never mind, the ducks have set- 
tled below the railroad bridge, and I can soon put the 
canoe down there," and so we continued down the rapid 
river which makes a natural flow of about three miles an 
hour, and were soon down to the bridge, but as luck 
would have it, the crafty mallards had chosen a wide, 
straight place in the river in which to light. As we 
swung around the point in plain view, they, with their 
long necks and keen eyes, were at least 60 yards away. 
"Change your shot," said Ned. "Take out the 6's and put 
in some BB's." While I was changing my shot, the wary 
ducks took flight, and away they went down the stream 
again. "Shall we follow them?" "Yes," said Ned, "it's 
ducks or no Thanksgiving." So away we went. 
The Paw Paw River is the crookedest thing on earth, in 
some places making a detour of a mile to get eighty rods 
on its general course. He said, "I'll paddle until we get 
one more shot, as they seem to be the only ducks on the 
river; and if you don't get them we'll have to come down 
to chicken and be thankful in proportion." So away we 
v.-ent, I helping the boy with another paddle the first mile 
or two. Finally coming to a place where we thought 
they were likely to light, Ned says : "Pa, lay down your 
paddle and take up your gun. They are liable to spring 
out of these Crooked places anywhere." So I got ready 
for instant action. The boy Was getting tired of the long 
paddle and said : "If we don't find them down this side 
of the big bayou, we'll give it up as a bad job." That was 
but a short distance ahead, and we had got in sight of 
v/here we were going to stop, and I said : "We'll have to 
give it up," when just then, directly ahead of us 40 or 50 
j-ards, the three mallards we had sought for swam, out 
into the river. They were well away, but I yet had the 
BB's in as before mentioned, and the boy said, "Give it 
to them, pa. It's your only chance." I instantly pulled 
the right barrel, and three beautiful mallards lay dead 
on the water, Ned said : "I'm thankful now, and if the 
madam isn't thankful we can't help it." 
Sullivan Cook. 
Looking Backward. 
Do YOU remember that day on your last ducking trip? 
The soft sky, blue and cloudless, the wide expanse of 
water, dead, flat, oily; the scattered beds of wild fowl, 
the crackling cackle of the brant, the honking of geese, 
and the ever-present soul-rasping "south, south, 
southerl}'?" How you fretted for wind — how you prayed 
for wind — how it was just j'our luck, and then — lightly 
from over your shoulder a soft wind touches your cheek. 
The dead expanse is broken in a million little pimples, 
all sound is hushed save the tinkle, tinkle of the little 
wavelets as they ripple over the wings 'of your battery, 
while stronger and stronger blows the brave south wind. 
Ah! there they come! How flat 3^ou try to make your- 
self, how your heart sort of lumps up big and thick, how 
tight you hold the gun. Closer, closer— there they are! 
Now I No, you don't shoot ; there are no ducks, you were 
just thinking of that other day long ago. The silken 
rustle of hurrying wings was only the morning paper 
falling from your hand. Or perhaps the sky was dark 
and stormy, with swift driving clouds blotting out the 
sun. How muddy and thick the waves look; how hard 
they strike the battery; how the water goes foaming and 
boiling over the deck, as if it would cover you. You 
feel sort of timid out there all alone in the angry waters; 
you raise up often and look to see how far the sloop is 
away, and then you think of the captain's last words : 
"Fix yourself comfortable, there is no danger." You 
take courage and look again to see if he and his little boat 
are near. Then you have your hands full. My ! how they 
fly. How often the gun cracked you cannot remember. 
You were shooting, yes; you know that — shooting lots. 
If you only had that chance over you know j^ou could 
beat it; you would wait longer on that big bunch; you 
would raise a little quicker on that side bunch, you fell 
you know it now. Do you? I see them all, the youtig 
and enthusiastic on their first trip, so anxious to know 
and to try; those who have been before and have plans 
and theories worked out in the long hours since the last 
trip; then the old and seasoned who know it all and don't 
care. Yet I find, way down in some corner of the heart, 
is that desire to kill, that strictly human desire to get that 
which IS hard to obtain. No inditference, no coolness, 
no long years of reasoning will hide it; sooner or later 
on every trip their own words or actions will convict 
them. 
I guess the readers- of Forest and Stream know that 
I break out this way every now and then and will forgive 
me for straying away from plain business. But yon see. 
Mr. Editor, for the last two weeks we have had freezeSj 
and drifting ice, and all sorts of things to spoil our shoot- 
ing. So I just concluded to write and rnake a lot of 
others feel bad and wish they were shooting. "Misery 
loves company." There are a good number of fowl in the 
bay now, and by the first or second week in February- 
all danger of drifting ice and cold weather will be over, 
so we should have fine, clear shooting from that time on. 
This last fall's work has not been up to the standard; the 
long spell of warm weather kept the fowl north, so that 
they drifted here very slowly, and as they keep working 
down all the time, they did not congregate here in quan- 
tities to make many extra days. The going back will be 
different, as they crowd in here to wait the time of their 
final northern flight. We have plenty of feed on the 
shoals and a good warden on the Virginia side. More 
geese have been killed this season than for many years 
past. 
At the close of the season I have never seen so many 
quail in the county. A party here on the last day of the 
season, January 15, flushed over twenty coveys of large 
strong birds; the day before, at no time over half a mile 
from the house, they flushed seven coveys over one very 
old, inferior dog. O. D. Foulks. 
Stockton, Md., Jan. 20. 
Duck Shooting by Night. 
Watertown, N. Y., Jan. 11. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: It is a long time since I have seen any news 
in Forest and Stream from Jefferson county, the 
home of Commissioner Middleton, and the one_ coun- 
ty in the State where the spring shooting of wildfowl 
is prohibited. I have little to say in regard to wildfowl, 
except that they nested here in larger numbers than in 
1901, and that we had more birds here on opening day 
than ever before. Our shooting on black duck, mallard, 
teal and woodcock, however, was a_ disappointment last 
fall, as most of us from the vastly increased number of 
these birds expected a corresponding increase in_ the size 
of our bags. As a matter of fact, I do not; believe that 
there were one-quarter of the number of these fowl killed 
in this county in 1902 that were in 1901. One of the best 
feeding spots in the county, for these birds is Black 
River Bay, Avhich contains hundreds of acres of wild rice. 
This bay is connected with Watertown by trolley and is 
hunted every day during the open season. In 1901 nearly 
everyone who hunted the bay brought back a fair bag 
of mallards and blacks, killed in a legitimate sportsrnan- 
like manner by jumping them from the rice in daylight, 
the law permitting shooting from sunrise to sunset only. 
This law, which prohibited night shooting, was pot satis- 
factory to some of the shooters, who objected to having 
so many ducks flying around within easy range an hour 
before dark, and as one prominent sportsman (who has 
done more shooting and less work to secure the law 
which gave us this good shooting than any other man in 
the county) expressed it, "knocking their hats off," and 
by industriously circulating a misstatement (to put it 
mildly) as to the manner in which this law was secured, 
aroused such an opposition to it that we modified the law 
in 1902, making the shooting hours from daylight to 
one-half hour after sunset. I have always believed that 
the quickest way to spoil the shooting on a good duck 
marsh was to permit night shooting, and the results on 
this bay have convinced myself and and I believe the other 
shooters (not excepting the above mentioned gentleman) 
that I am right. 
Although on August 31 the marsh was alive with 
ducks, variously estimated at from four to ten to one 
more than in 1901, when daylight came on Septernber i a 
small army of sportsmen, who had been shoving into the 
rice from all directions since three o'clock, were there, 
and the birds had learned lesson No. i (get out before 
daylight). During the day a few attempted to return, but 
the long-distance shooters who are always conspicuous 
on opening day performed their duty well. As the hour 
of sunset drew nigh the night shooters pushed into the 
quill weeds and flag beds and made ready for the slaugh- 
ter. Did he slay? Not many. For the long-range 
shooters were still there, and the birds learned lesson 
No. 2 (come in after dark). The black duck learns 
essily; one or two lessons are all that are necessary, and 
the difference between these educated birds of 1902 and 
the non-educated ones of 1901 has set a lot of the boys to 
thinking hard. I had always supposed until last fall that 
persistent night shooting would drive them to other parts, 
but it does not. I have a shanty on the shore of this bay 
and spent many nights there last fall._ I find that the 
number of ducks visiting the rice beds increased in num- 
bers as the season advanced until they seemed to number 
thousands. 
I have heard large flocks of black duck quacking and 
lighting in the water as late as 11 o'clock, when it was so 
dark that I could not see my hand laefore my face. 
Directly in froiit of my shack is the most extensive rice 
bed in the bay, and it was a favorite rendezvous for the 
birds. And although it was visited nightly by hundreds 
of black duck, I never put up a duck after daylight or 
found a feather floating on the water, and the oily con- 
dition of the water showed plainly that the birds had been 
feeding during the night. 
This night feeding habit has always been the main ar- 
gument of the night shooter that the proper time to shoot 
these ducks was in the late evening or shortly after dark. 
That the shooting at these birds as they come to roost or 
feed in the evening should after one or two lessons cause 
them to come after dark is not at all surprising, but that 
it should also keep them from coming in the day time is 
not so easy to understand. But that it does so has been 
proven by our experience on this bay the past two years. 
Tn 1901 when no shooting was allowed after sunset, good 
shooting was had in the morning, and ducks were coming 
ui continually through the day; and our shooting im- 
proved as the season advanced. In 1902, when night 
shooting was permitted, few if any ducks were found in 
ihe morning, and still fewer came in during the day. Our 
shooting grew poorer each week, until finally about all 
the ducks that were killed by daylight were cripples 
knocked down in the night. The small number of ducks 
killed on this bay and the constantly increasing number 
of ducks which fed in this bay nights proves conclusively 
that as a measure for the protection of ducks for c^ir 
southern shooters the law permitting night shooting is a. 
