Aug. i6, 1902.] 
FOREST AND « STREAM. 
^communicateH to the reader a part of the enthusiasm that 
"he himself feels. - - 
Mr. Van Dyke's contribution to this volume covers 
■'Lhree species— "The Elk of the Pacific Coast," "The Mule 
Deer" and "The Columbia Blacktail." He describes the 
Grange of the elk in California, Oregon, Washington and 
British Columbia, and their practical extermination in 
California, except for the small band near Bakersfield 
and in the extreme northern part of the State, and tells 
of hunting amid the giant forests of Oregon, concluding 
that the elk of the Pacific coast is probably the hardest 
game animal to secure by any means of hunting. His 
paper on the mule deer contains much that is new to us, 
especially the common practice of the deer feeding on 
cactus and the damage which they do to the crops in 
California. His description of the mule deer calls atten- 
tioti to certain differences among deer of different sec- 
tions, many of which have often been noticed. Mr. Van 
Dyke's account of the Columbia blacktail is very full and 
ii. interesting reading. 
Mr. Elliot's account of the caribou is notable not only 
for its interest, but for the wealth of its illustration of 
lieads and of antlers. There is extraordinary diversity 
among these, and one can easily understand the position 
'of the writer when he hints that conclusions drawn from 
the antlers are valueless in determining specific characters. 
One of the most interesting chapters in this interesting 
book is Mr. A. J. Stone's paper on the moose. It con- 
tains much material that is new, and much which if not 
new is put in a fresh way. Mr. Stone declares — ^and the 
editor disagrees with him — that the bull moose is not 
attracted by the call of the horn, because he believes it to 
be the cry of the female. Probably we never shall know 
the precise motive which attracts the moose, but it is 
certain that during the rutting time males of the deer 
family do many strange things. While -watching a bull 
t'lk which was herding his cows during the rutting; time, 
we have called him up alarmingly close to us by the simple 
expedient of breaking a stick. No doubt in this case the 
bull believed that another bull was liidden in the brush, 
and wanted to fight the intruder. In the same way we 
have known the whifetail deer in rutting time to make 
an unprovoked attack on a man. » 
Extremely interesting and valuable are five maps pre- 
pared by Dr. C. Hart Merriam, of the Biological Sur- 
A'ey, which show the range of the mule , deer and of 
Caton's California mule deer, of the whitetail deer and the 
Arizona dwarf whitetail, of the antelope, elk and black- 
tail deer all in 1900. In the map showing the range of 
the elk, should not an area of Vancouver Island have 
heen shaded? Certainly within a year or two there have 
heen elk there in considerable abundance, according to 
our information. 
The illustrations in the volume are chiefly by Mr. 
Rungius, whose skill as an animal painter is well known. 
The frontispiece, an artotype, is a very striking and 
beautiful thing, and all the illustrations are admirable, 
but there are two unhappy cases of the misnaming of 
plates, which should not ha^'e occurred. The deer shown 
facing page 50 is certainly not. "The Blacktail of Colo- 
rado," nor are the animals shown facing page 76 "White- 
tail in Flight." It is difficult to understand how these 
blunders should have occurred, since, of course, both the 
artist and the editor know the mule deer and the white- 
tail, but their occurrence is unfortunate. 
Coons. 
Editor Forest and Strenm: 
Our survey was in an unsettled region on Goldwater 
River. From the railroad station we went by wagon over 
a "blind road" to Edwards' Ferry, where Lee and I found 
room to spread our pallet on Mr. Edwards' floor and a 
welcome at his table. The four negro axmen pitched 
their tent in the woods near by, and sang into the late 
hours, ostensibly because they were happy, but in reality 
fo scare off the supposed "varmints." In the morning 
the men, who were new to the work, were cautioned to 
use sparingly the wat^r that each carried in his half-gallon 
iug, but by early afternoon the supply was exhausted, and 
by mid-afternoon they had begun to suffer from thirst. 
With a detachment to carry iugs, a search was made, 
which was rewarded by the discovery of a small "puddle" 
in a large cypress brake nearly gone dry, about half a 
mile from the line, and through undergrowth that made 
traveling difficult. The wa±er covered a small surface 
and was very shaUow. Four large moccasins were peace- 
fully reposing therein, beside tadpoles, spiders and bacilli. 
After these had been frightened away the jugs were filled 
and were soon delivered to the thirsty workmen, who 
asked no questions. The initiated can quench his thirst 
with the bugs and reptiles in sigljt, but the novice must 
have his medicine sugai-coated. Blissful ignorance was 
the sugar coat. 
One day the men discovered a 'coon on a limb, and 
surveying operation were suspendled. Henry, the "lead 
axman," is not a brave man about some things. He will 
walk far around a toad or a snake. But Henry has plenty 
of 'coon bravery. With a cane knife, he climbed that tree 
till he came to the coon, about forty feet above ground, 
and chopped its head open before it could get into a hol- 
low already congested with 'coon. This sounds akin to 
Antoine's 'coon story, but it is not. 
Under the stimulus of a sharp-pointed stick, another 
young 'coon was induced to seek fresh air, and he, too, 
was dispatched with the cane knife when his head was 
well out. 
The dead 'GQojas were half-grown and looked sweet and 
lender. By the: growls now coming from Uie hollow 
limb when the stick was punched in, we knew that the 
third one would need parboiling to make her tender. 
The old one wouldn't come out, so the tree was cut, a 
notch taken out of the side at the hollow, and Mrs. 'Coon 
killed "in situ." 
Some field notes were needed from the county site at 
Belen, which was said to be twenty miles by road, fol- 
lowing some of the windings of the river. The map 
showed Belen only twelve miles away, and on the theory 
than one can come back if he can't go on, I started. 
The woods and cane were thick in places, but the river 
was struck again after some hard walking, and a settler 
ferried me over in his dugout. The trip to Belen occupied 
five hours, and' it was late afternoon wh«n th? start back 
was. made, with little hope of getting through, but a 
chance to get so far on the way back as to finish the 
journey in the first' daylight next' morning, and get the 
party started to work on time. A pocketful of matches 
bad been provided in anticipation, and when at late dusk 
ihe river was left, I drank enough for all night. Half an 
hour later I was in a tangle of cane and vines, where 
further progress was impossible in pitchy darkness, and I 
decided to camp. 
Over my leafy bed the dark, heavy foliage had spaces 
through which the sky was seen, with the stars shining 
very brightly against the blue, and the fireflies tried to 
shine as brightly against the dark tree leaves ; then my 
little fire would flare up and bring out strongly the mainy 
strange shapes of the leaves and boughs, lighting them 
till the. sky beyond, was black, and the fireflies made dim- 
mer sparks. 
It is good sometimes to be alone in the broad woods. 
Unmistakably something alive crawled in the dead 
Icav-es around me, almost against me, and on several sides. 
It proved to be katydids, attracted by the firelight. 
With the first light of day I awoke and resumed the 
nmrck A cow bell is very sweet music at times ; then as 
one conies nearer, there is the lighter tinkling of the 
sheep bells mingling in, and after a while the numerous 
untraceable cow paths in the cane merge into one that is 
plainer, and this with others more defined, then the 
bells sound louder and a rooster crows in the distance. 
At Mr. Crutcher's house, where we are now boarding, 
there is plenty of fresh water and a good breakfast. wait- 
ing- 
The "town man" has no realization of the interest 
which such surroundings lend to a comfortable meal at a 
table, and especially to having enough drinking water. 
Cutting a line through a continuous tangle of cane and 
briers where the tree growth is too scant for much 
shade — in an old "deadening" or "hurricane" — five miles 
from the nearest palatable water, and with a July sun 
pouring down, one guards zealously the few warm drops 
in the jug. that must last till night, and takes a min- 
ute's breathing spell under a shading bush to indulge in 
wistful reveries of and longings for the "old oaken 
bucket" and broken gourd dippers and cool, decaying well 
curbings under big elm trees. At night when you have 
come out of the woods, you linger round the cool pump, 
reluctant to leave while there is a possibility of drinking 
a few drops more. 
In one such brier patch, six miles from Mr. Crutcher's, 
the big rattler was met. He was carried out, over very 
rough ground and through several cypress brakes, bound 
full length to a hickory pole. Joe himself weighs eight 
pounds by the scales, and the pole weighed about thirty. 
Joe is now in the box with Jonah, whom Coahoma told 
about. 
After the survey the party was on a march back to the 
railroad. Near the trail four 'coons were climbing a 
tree that looked impossible for any one but Henry. It 
was not for him, and he didn't hesitate. Fifty feet from 
the ground he had them cornered on a small limb. With 
a pole cut with his ready cane knife he punched them off, 
one at a time, and each 'coon, in turn, found himself sur- 
rounded by a "cordon" with clubs. The four 'coons were 
triumphantly swung at the backs of the four darkeys. 
Tripod. 
Mississippi. 
More About Sport. 
Editor Forest mid Stream: 
The subject, "What constitutes true sport?" has been 
discussed at large by a number of your contributors of 
late, very entertainingly, and doubtless with profit to your 
readers, as throwing many lights on the subject from 
different view points. 
While not a partisan myself for either the big-game or 
the small-game side of the controversy, the issue, being 
merely a question of taste, based upon habit as the result 
of environment, I may be permitted to offer some reflec- 
tions upon the fundamental principles involved in the 
question, What is sport? I may, however, remark by the 
way, that as between the desirableness of small-game and 
large-game hunting, there is one feature about the latter, 
in its present-day pursuit, that invariably arouses my 
deep aversion when reading of the exploits of big-garne 
hmiters. It is the fact, which appears conspicuously in 
all these narratives, that the "sport"^ of big-game hunt- 
ing has degenerated from the pursuit of the game for 
itself to the pursuit of the horns carried by the game— 
the trophy, instead of the good meat of which little ac- 
count is taken. And in this I believe a fundamental prin- 
ciple of "true sport" is violated; which brings us again 
back to the "previous question." In order to consider the 
question intelligently, and get at its fundamental prin- 
ciples, it seems proper to inquire into the origin and 
genesis of field sports. 
Your latest contributor to this discussion, Mr. Jos. W. 
Shurter, embraces in the general category of "sport" all 
the athletic games that are practiced, which would appear 
to be wholly unwarranted from the viewpoint of the 
Forest and Stream confraternity. These games, it is 
true, are conventionally denominated "sports," but as be- 
t^v■een such form of diversion and true field sports, the 
pursuit of nature's children in nature's haunts, there is'no 
kinship either in character or genesis. The athletic games 
are contests between men and men, a kind of mimic war. 
having for their basis the struggles for supremacy between 
men and tribes in the primitive history of the race, causes 
that still persist in more or less modified form and keep 
alive the spirit of conflict between man and his fellow, a 
spirit that it is the mission of the higher moral culture to 
eliminate from man's nature. Field sports on the other 
hand had their origin in man's, necessities, during the 
whole period of his racial infancy, and to a large degree 
tu a much later period in the race history, when his sub- 
sistence depended absolutely upon his proficiency in the 
capture of the wild creatures around him for the food 
and clothing which they yielded for his use, and which 
were necessary to his survival. 
This trait in man's nature, like other deeply implanted 
instincts in men and animals, still persists after tlie condi- 
tions that gave it birth have ceased. Hence it may be 
conchtded that the procurement of something u.seful to. 
man as the result of the chase, is an essential element 
of true sport. By way of illustration, it is suggested that 
n:y good friend Didymus, who experiences such ecstatic 
delight in a day behind the pointer on the stubble, not a 
small part of which is derived from exhibiting a plump 
game bag at the end of the day, to those who will share 
with him in the gustatory sequel to his performance, I 
say that neither friend Didymus nor any other true sports- 
man, would enjoy the killing of a big bag of swallows, for 
instance, though more skill in handling the gun might be 
required. 
It may be concluded, therefore, that the destruction and 
absolute waste of half a ton of good meat for the sake of 
a head and pair of horns to be exhibited as trophies of 
the chase, is in violation of the basic principle of true 
sport, and is contrary to the ethics of nature, so to speiak, 
by which man finds justification for slaying his fellow 
creatures. 
The terms "head hunter," "skin hunter," are mentioned 
with much obloquy by your "true sportsman" when ap-^ 
plied to some one else; but when I read in Forest and 
Stream some months ago — and I mention this merely as a 
sample — that a party of two sportsmen with two guides, 
spent two or three weeks in the Rockies, and very con- 
scientiously limited their slaughter to the strict permis- 
sion of the law, yet triumphantly paraded a record of four 
elk, four bear, eight deer,, with an assortment of mbtm- 
itaitt sheep, goats, aptelope. and what not (I write from 
memory; and perhaps exaggerate some, but the wasted 
meat must have run up into the thousands of pounds), and 
all for the sake of heads and horns, I turn from such a 
recital with feelings of deep aversion, and think of the 
aphorism of whose ox is gored. 
There are many big-game hunters who refrain from 
killing more meat than can be utilized; an9,it is common 
for fishermen to restore to their native element, none the 
worse for their novel experience, the superfluity of fish 
caught; but the insensate greed for "trophies," that car- 
ries so many into the woods for the sole purpose of secur- 
ing heads and horns with an enormous sacrifice of meat in 
the process, must greatly hasten the final extinction of 
those animals of the chase that have afforded sport, and 
food and raiment, to man, from the earliest infancy, of his 
race down to the present time. Coahoma. 
Taking in a Buck. 
Bellevue, Pa. — Editor Forest amd Stream: As the 
titue for our annual vacation is approaching, and as the 
Georgian Bay district is the objective point this year, I 
am reminded of a story my father once told me of how he 
captured a big buck, back in the forties, in the same 
region. The interest in the story was revived a few 
years ago froin a somewhat like experience, when with 
a party of friends from Pittsburg we were hunting deer 
near Romney, W. Va. Our deer ran near to the last 
crossing, having passed two of our party unhurt, when 
the third man started in the direction of the deer, and 
coming to a large hound chained near by, unloosed him 
and started him on the trail of the deer, which he soon 
overtook and threw in front of an old lady's house on the 
mountain. Seeing so rich a prize at hand, she quickly 
ran to the house, and returning with her wood ax, killed, 
skinned and had nearly all of the deer stowed away when 
our party arrived to demand the share due us, which she 
reluctantly surrendered. 
Father had spent the fall months with his brother, help- 
ing at clearing and getting out timbers for his house, and 
as he was somewhat skillful with the ax, they persuaded 
him to stay over the winter until they had the house 
finished. 
One clear moonlight night he lay awake listening for 
some time to the barking of the dogs some distance off in 
the bush, and prompted by curiosity, got tjp, pulled on a 
pair of trousers without suspenders and quietly set out on 
the lumber road to investigate. After a brisk walk, he 
came upon the scene of the two dogs with a large buck at 
bay, in iront of a big rock. He got down in the grass and 
crawled up as close as he could to watch them a while. 
Finally to set things going, he spoke to one of the dogs 
to "Get him, Doc." At the sound of his voice the deer 
cleared the road, landing with both dogs having good 
holds, and thus the buck could not get up and away. As 
the deer lay there for an instant, the now enthused spec- 
tator also pounced upon the deer and took hold of him 
by the horns. He now had him sure, but what was he 
going to do with him. Father had no knife with him, and 
after a while he had to encourage the dogs to hold on. 
Then he began calling to the house, from which for some 
time there came no answer, but his brother's wife heard 
the voice and wakened her husband, when he started in 
a hurry. Upon arriving, he took in the situation, and 
after a good laugh and some queries as to what father 
was going to do, he, too, was soon at his wits' end; but 
having a pair of suspenders loosely tucked round his 
waist, father suggested that they could tie him with the 
suspenders and take him home, which they accordingly 
proceeded to do. With the one suspender they tied his 
forefeet and with the other his hind ones. As soon as the 
buck found himself in that condition, he became as sub- 
missive and gentle as a Mount Washington goat. _ Find- 
ing a stick near by, they strung him on it, and with the 
end of the pole resting on their shoulders, the deer swmg- 
ing between them, took up their march for the house, the 
two dogs bringing up the rear. , . , . 
When they got to the house they placed their burden at 
the door to look him over and decide what to do with 
him. Opening the door, they placed him on the kitchen 
floor, and after lighting a lainp, proceeded to take, off his 
suspenders. As soon as the buck felt himseif Hff.ee again 
his spirit returned, and he sprang across, the-" room, up- 
setting a small table at the same time, then faced about. 
The two men were standing at the door watching the 
deer, which with a toss of his high head made a dive for 
them. The glare of the lamplight gave additional gleam 
to his now wicked eye, and prompted the spectators to be 
doing something. Father sprang behind a large table and 
uncle out of the door and he closed it to keep the deer in. 
Running to the \voodpile, he returned with an ax and slid 
into the room again. A short discussion decided the fate 
of the deer. Using the table for a guard, they rolled it 
■toward the deer, and having him sufficiently cornered, the 
experienced hand soon dealt the blow that turned him into 
venison for future use. Jas. H. Taylor. 
