Forest and stream. 
r-r-i'i 
after all. He delivered the goods. I never thouglit that 
he had so much pluck, or his whole family." 
The ladies, bless them, consider me a lion iit a getitlti- 
man's clothing. I note that at all social functions the tips 
of fans are pointed at me, bright eyes follow me, arid 
voices of sweetest music, women's voices, sound my 
praises. 
As I pass tlie children at play, one of them is sure to 
exclaim, "That man kills bears My pa told ma that he 
was not afraid of a buzz saw. He's got a whole lot of 
skins and st-utTed bears at home that he killed all alone 
with a knife. I'm gomg to be a bear hunter." 
I do not need to hunt bears again, for I am a hero of 
record, having both a trophy and a reference. But I 
intend to add some moose heads, nlountain sheep and a 
few big fish to my collections of trophies. • 
Reuben Ursussen. 
St. Louis, Mo. 
'^A Walk Down South. 
A FEW days ago I had occasion to "walk" down Soiith 
and I took a Mississippi River steamboat r , j 
Unlike our good and interesting friend Spears, I had 
uo business with the mate, and yet, Avhen on deck I 
was a close observer of things going on aboard and 
ashore, and, inasmuch as tlie boat poked her nose into 
every bend and crook in the river to put off or take on 
freight and passengers, there were few moments when 
something was not going on. 
I naturally watched the rousters at their work and 
found the study interesting. The men were uniformly- 
young "niggers," there being net a single gray-headed 
man in the lot. I wondered if a gray-beaded negro 
roustabout is as rarely seen as the proverbial dead mule. 
iPerhaps a roustabout never survives to the gray-haired 
stage any more than a mule ever dies. What a hfe! 
As Spears' quondam fellow laborer exclaimed, "Work! 
work! nothin' but workl" 
I wonder if the eight-hour work day will ever reach 
these poor devils! Except between landings, day and 
night and night and day they are everlastingly at it. 
Those upon our boat were a young, strong, husky lot, 
yet after a landing and discharging of freight they seemed 
perfectly reconciled to a pile of boxes, a row of barrels 
or a collection of meal bags upon which to throw them- 
selves and snatch the briefest kind of a cat nap, only to 
be aroused by the bellowing of the whistle as the boat 
blew for the next approaching landing. 
I once read a squib about a Mississippi River captain 
who suddenly "got religion" and issued positive orders 
to the mate that the niggers must be "swore at" no 
more. And in twenty-four hours how the niggers sent 
a delegation to the captain and begged for the old con- 
ditions, "cause it didn't feel natural not to be cussed. 
On our boat we heard no profanity. The mate was a 
thin, wiry Southerner, with an acclimated complexion. 
He gave few orders, but there was a razor-like note in 
his voice that seemed to stir the niggers like the lash of 
a scientifically wielded blacksnake whip. His "corar 
along there," "what are you doing," "get out of there, 
"now! now! now!" was sufficient to keep those roust- 
abouts moving at a pace that was astonishing. Let the 
long line of toilers heavily laden and crawling up the 
steep bank like ants show the slightest sign of lagging, 
"What are you about?" shot like an arrow from be- 
tween the mate's teeth, was sufficient to jump the whole 
line into a quickened pace. 
What a diversity in the way of burdens! Orie piece 
at a time seemed to be the rule, and in the Ime and 
following the m.an straining mider a 150-pound roll of 
belting would come a husky darky carrying a two-pound 
yeast box upon his broad shoulders. This single parcel 
idea went with no protest from the observant mate. 
Heavy dry goods cases, barrels of salt and weighty 
and bulky packages generally were carried on a sort of 
stretcher consisting of two heavy poles connected to- 
gether with cross lacing of chains. Four men manned 
these stretchers. 
We picked up a flat coal-laden barge and fastening 
it to our boat moved down the river as the roustabouts, 
between landings, shoveled coal into barrows and wheeled 
them into the steamer's bunkers. The sun beat down, 
unmercifully, yet for hours this unloading of freight and 
loading of coal alternately kept up. 
There was "some" powder aboard and this had to be 
landed on the line of a new railroad under grading con- 
struction. The point selected for the landing was 
where the river had eaten tons of earth away from the 
steep bank as a hungry boy would bite into cake. To 
reach the deserted house in which the canisters of powder 
were to be temporarily stored, the steepest imaginary 
path up the slippery gravel had, to be walked. 
The single parcel rule was laid aside here and the 
darkies carried under each arm a 25-pound canister of 
blasting powder. There seemed to be no end of that 
powder, and when we had roughly counted about 1,000 
canisters we came to the conclusion that we had slept 
last night over a veritable powder mine. 
It was painful almost to see those poor devils grind 
their toes into the bank going up and coming down on 
a jog trot, slide and slip most cf the way. There was 
no shouting. or singing, and yet was there a broad grm 
on the countenances of the majority of them. And when 
the last keg had been landed and the boat's whistle and 
bell had sounded "all aboard," the men were again shov- 
eling coal before the boat had gotten her nose a hundred 
feet from the bank. , , , , 
And as I watched that reeking crowd of blacks, drip- 
ping with sweat and panting from their late exertion, 
buckling to under the broiling, blistering sun in their 
work of coal shoveling,- I worked out in my own mind 
the solution of the problem of the gray-headed darkey 
rousfabout. 
Charles Cristadoro. 
All comtnunications intended for Forest and Stream should 
al-ways be addressed to the Forest and Stream Publishing Co., and 
and not any individual cgnnected -with the paper. 
Seeond Annual of the Uneasy Cluh. 
(Concltlded /roHi lasi week.) 
For two days I loafed about the river waiting for 
l-ough weather, picking up a few teal and reading the 
latest issue of the Forest and Stream, which an oblig- 
ing friend had sent m«. While poking about with the 
canoe I found a coon in a trap, the picture of injured 
innocence. The foxy rascal, sitting there at the edge of 
the flags with a cruel steel trap fast to a foot, was a pitiful 
sight, and I was glad to see the owner of the trap com- 
ing up the river, who soon dispatched the unlucky aiii- 
■mal with a blow from his paddle. He had three others 
in his dugo.ut he had taken below. This trapper said it 
was not unusual to catch a fine otter in these swamps. 
That evening at dinner Steve V., manager of the 
club, mentioned the fact that a flock of turkeys had been 
reported that day at a point down the river, and that 
he had a notion to interview them, but to do so properly 
involved being on the ground at daylight, as they would 
call better then than at any other time. I suggested 
that we start out that night, locate the place, build a fire 
in the woods near by and be on hand at daybreak, and 
upon counting noses we found that there were five of 
us game enough for this sort of a hunt; so at 10:30, as 
dark a night as could be imagined, found Steve in the 
lead with a large lunch basket. We crossed the railroad 
bridge, a happy expectant party of hunters, bound for 
a night of it in the woods at least. Upon striking the 
corduroy road the procession swung off the railroad and 
Steve collided with the dog Kiser, who evidently did not 
understand the order, "Column right, march!" Kiser 
howled as Steve's shoes pounded his ribs, but soon re- 
covered and got in line, and the hunters were soon cross- 
ing the cotton field, where a year before the "3 Bs" 
were covered with cockle-burrs and cotton and filled 
with disgust. The going was good through the field, 
but in clirnbing the rail fence which surrounds it, there 
was aii accident to the lunch basket, and when the wreck 
was gathered up the butter was liberally sprinkled with 
sand and chips, the sugar and salt had got together, and 
in fact the whole outfit was "pi," except a piece of 
bacon and several loaves of bread. Then for two hours 
we plodded and stumbled through the woods and under- 
brush barking our shins on fallen Hmbs and stumps, 
dodging under vines and climbing over logs. The climax 
came during this tortuous tramp when Steve, who was 
pilot, brushed a small springy sapling so that it sprung 
back and caught me a stinging blow in the face, which 
made me suddenly 'stop and duck. Mr. B., who was fol- 
lowing me closely, caught the muzzle of my gun in his 
eye, and I was afraid he had been seriously hurt, until 
he assured me otherwise and insisted that it was his 
fault and not my awkwardness that caused the accident. 
In the mix-up the lantern was nearly put out of busi- 
ness, and as we sat down to fix it, the v/hole crowd 
agreed that a little rest would not be amiss, so we filled 
our pipes and Steve got reminiscent about moonlight 
nights and woods full of turkeys, and we spent a pleas- 
ant half hour in spite of our tiresome tramp. 
As we started on Steve opined that another hour 
would put us in the vicinity of the coveted game. I 
thought that this trip reminded me of something I had_ 
read, but whether it was Stanley's Darkest Africa or a 
story of a snipe hunt with the attendant bag and candle, 
I had no time to decide, for we were again bumping 
our shins on every convenient cypress-knee, and in a 
moment more Steve stopped at the edge of a slough. 
Then came the order to back up and go around the 
bog, which added another half mile to this horrible walk- 
ing. I was about deciding that turkey hunting in a 
swampy jungle was mighty good exercise, and was wish- 
ing some one would suggest that we "go way back and 
sit down," when Steve stopped at a tree and proceeded 
to hang up the basket and lantern. I had my suspicions 
that a "snipe" game with the turkeys might be on the 
programme, but was reassured when he gave us our 
bearings, explaining that we now were in a narrow strip 
of timber with a large lake bed on the right and a 
cleared farm on the left and that the turkeys might be 
anywhere in this neck of the woods, and that we must 
flush one or more at once so as to be able to be near 
their roost when they came off at daylight We then 
struck out without the lantern, and if it was a task be- 
fore, it was painful indeed now, for the woods were black 
as ink, except where one looked up at the sky, which was 
fast clouding over. I had zigzagged about for a quarter 
of a mile when I was startled by a heavy roar of wings 
in a tree just over me, and the falling of a lot of twigs 
about me, and as I looked up saw two large turkeys 
sailing away through an open space among the tops of 
some tall cypress trees. I could not resist, and point- 
ing the gun as nearly as possible at the flying birds in 
the uncertain light, I fired both barrels with no effect 
at least nothing dropped. The others of the party came 
up quickly, Steve cautioning no talking, and we then 
beat a silent retreat and struck out for the clearing, 
which was on high ground and promised a better camp- 
ing place than the woods. 
While we made a cheerful fire beside a large oak log, 
Steve went further into the clearing and shortly returned 
and said, "Gentlemen, I am going to bed, when you 
are ready you will find your beds ready for you about 
a hundred yards to the right, just over the fence." With 
that he and Mr. B. left the boys and myself broiling 
slices of bacon held to the fire on long sticks, which, 
with a slice of bread, was the next thing to a club sand- 
wich and highly appreciated after our long walk. Then 
filling our pipes and lighting them with a glowing coal, 
we were supremely happy, sitting there in the bright fire- 
light until about 1:00 A. M., when we decided to see 
the color of the bed Steve had mentioned, which I 
opined must be a haystack. On going to the fence, as 
Steve had directed, we there found a shed, the floor of 
which was covered to a depth of three feet with newly 
plucked cotton, and in this soft nest we found Steve and 
Mr. B. sound asleep. We piled in and were soon in the 
same condition. 
At 4:30 I awoke to find myself nearly buried in the 
cotton. I crawled out and routed the others, and after 
poking up the fire we again took the trail for the turkey 
roost. We moved slowly and with as little noise as pos- 
sible, until our party was formed in a half circle, suf- 
tounding the place whefe vVe had flushed the birds, fac- 
ing the Ttike bed. 1, on the eJttrelTie left, was backed up 
against a tree Avhere the view was as cl&ar as possible, 
waiting patiently for daylight 
Just at dawn I heard several birds fly down from their 
roosts, and was wondering if I had not got too far to 
the left, when I heard the flutter of wings and turned 
just in time to see one fly out of the top of a lone cypress 
that was 500 yards or more from the strip of timber we 
were in. The bird sailed in and lit in a tree about 150 
yards from n.e, in plain sight Then a veritable game of 
"rubbernecking" began on the part of the turkey as well 
as my own. Here was a situation I had not counted 
upon, as I had expected to get a shot at a turkey either 
running or flying, but here was a shining mark up a 
tree, but out of gunshot. Knowing the reputation a 
wild turkey has for locating a hunter, I never dreamed 
I could make a sneak on him. However, the bird was get- 
ting uneasy and seemed about to fly to the ground, giv- 
ing a slight cluck occasionally, and I decided I must 
do something at once, as a gun might crack at any mo- 
ment and spoil my chance. I decided to "sneak," and. 
if I do say it, no Indian was ever more stealthy. I 
first got a tree between me and the bird's head, and 
then walked on the air. I think, for over a hundred yards, 
and found that I was in range, but that was all, for the 
bird had changed position and the body of the tree ob- 
•structed the view, so that the head and a few inches ol 
the neck showed, and I was unwilling to risk a load of 
BBs at so small a target. While standing there trying 
to control my increasing excitement and thinking of 
some way to outwit the wily bird, he hopped to another 
limb, and there stood against the eastern sky as big 
as a barn. I shall not try to describe the sensations of the 
[oUowing moment, just as day was breaking. My nerve 
stayed by me, however, and with niy gun well braced 
and a careful aim I pressed the trigger. There was not 
a flutter or a sound after the gun cracked, except the 
thud of the falling body, and I rushed up to the tree 
and found him limp and bleeding, stone dead. 
Daylight found the birds anxious to get together to 
feed, and as I stood there admiring my bird I could 
hear Steve calling keak-e keak-e; and in a moment, not 
fifty yards from me, a bird answered. Again I was 
thrilled with excitement, and was peering through the 
underbrush for a glimpse of the bird, when bang-bang 
went a gun in the timber back of me, and in a moment 
I saw a gobbler sailing off across the lake bed. The 
shots evidently startled my bird, for after five minutes 
I heard him call at a long distance. Then two more 
shots from the timber, I waited long and patiently for 
further developments, but saw no more signs of turkeys, 
although another shot from the timber assured me that 
someone was still among them, and after convincing 
myself there were no more birds in my vicinity, I picked 
up the dead bird and headed for the camp, thoroughly 
well pleased with myself as a turkey stalker. I soon 
came upon Steve, who was sitting on a log looking thor- 
oughly disappointed, for he had called a pair of birds 
nearly up to him, when Kiser took an insane notion to 
see what was doing in another part of the woods, and 
bounding away frightened the birds Steve had all but 
counted dead and bagged. The boys and Mr. B. soon 
came up, and how their faces broadened and their eyes 
opened at the sight of the turkey which hung from my 
shoulder, its head nearly touching the ground. Mr. B. 
had not seen a bird or fired a shot, and the boys, who 
were still thoroughly rattled, admitted having done the 
shooting, but were not sure whether they had seen six 
or sixteen of the great birds. 
Returning to our camp-fire we met a farmer boy, who 
for the promise of a quarter for a pail of hot coffee, 
brought it to us from the house a half mile distant. 
We went at the lunch basket and were soon broiling 
liberal slices of bacon, toasting bread and separating a 
dozen or more biscuits from a pint or so of apple but- 
ter which had swamped them in the wreck in the woods. 
In due time the boy returned with a large tin pail full 
of steaming coffee. We settled with him and reminded 
him that he was a gentleman and a scholar, and then pro- 
ceeded with breakfast, which was soon reduced to an 
empty basket and coffee_ pail. Kiser refused to touch a 
large sandwich I had prepared for him, and from his 
manner I shall he obliged to think he was doing pen- 
ance and was in deep disgrace for having ruined Steve's 
chance for a pair of fine turkeys. 
Our breakfast settled and our pipes puffing, we were 
soon on the back track through the woods, which was 
not half bad going in daylight. 
We had arranged to meet the g^iides with the boats, 
fishing tackle, etc., at a point on the river about half 
way home, and arriving found them waiting for us. Steve 
was to go on to the club house and we were to finish 
up the day with the bass, which we proceeded to do. 
Having seen a number of ducks flying over and hav- 
ing all the fish I cared for by 3 o'clock, I decided to go 
back on the river for the evening. While on the way up 
to the opening where we were to wait for the ducks, a 
pair of mergansers came along and I fired both barrels 
and never got a feather, excusing my poor shooting to 
my guide on account of the unsteady boat. In another 
moment came a teal, with the wind, and he was badly 
frightened, only, after two loads were fired in his direc- 
tion, and I was too disgusted to even want an excuse. 
In less than two minutes, while rounding a bend, we 
flushed a dozen mallards, and while they swung around 
in a wide circle we had time to partially hide the boat 
in the flags. Back they came, and I was chuckling to 
myself as they swung in to about forty yards, flying_ 
easily, and was thinking I would now redeem myself 
and lined up on the leader^and fired. He just tilted a 
little and some feathers dropped off him and he began 
to climb with the balance of the flock and I gave h'm 
another barrel, but he still went with the flock. I said 
nothing, but was calling myself several kinds of lob- 
sters and things equally expressive, when my guide "said, 
rather sarcastically, I thought, "Your gun shoots pretty 
close, don't it?" To write down my reply, which I 
snapped out, might not look well. I was thoroughly 
nettled. In reloading I happened to catch a glimpse 
of the shell I was about to place in the gun, when the 
trouble dawned on me; I had forgotten that the pocket 
