FOREST AKD STREAM. 
^nie §ug mid §mk 
— — 
Proprietors of shooting resorts will find ii profitable to advertise 
them in Forest and Steeam. 
On the Stubble Among the Geese. 
"It's nine o'clock, boys; you must be Up at two and 
will then have to hustle to be in readiness before the 
geese begin to move in their morning flight," and suit- 
ing the action to the words we knock the ashes froyi 
oiir pipes and breaking the circle around the kitchen 
range, we go aloft and turn in and drop off to sleep 
with the heavens of our imagination alive with honk- 
ing feathered V's of geese. We are at a farmhouse 
miles out from Dawson, with stubble on all sides of us 
as far as the eye can reach. The railroad whistle and 
the trolley gong may be blowing and clanging some- 
where else, but around us is the siillness of death. The 
barking of the watchful dog, suspicious of the moon, can- 
not be heard, even be he hard at it. for the next house 
is far out of hearing. 
A resoimding whack upon the panel of our door, ad- 
ministered by the horny-fisted hand of Jim. the man of 
•all work around the farm, brings us bolt upright in our 
beds. "It's two o'clock; the rig is ready and breakfast is 
waiting." Another forty winks added to the seemingly 
only forty we have just had is out of Ihe question, and 
we turn out. ^ 
It's an outrage, we exclaim, to have the women folks 
up and around for our benefit at .such an hour, but in- 
asmuch as the cakes, sausages and cofifee are steaming 
hot upon the table in front of us, there is simply nothing 
to do but fall to and eat and be thankful and show our 
appreciation of the cooking by eating heartily. When a 
housewife has, after much care and lalwr evolved a meal, 
she feels that no compliment or praise amounts to any- 
thing compared with its hearty enjoyment by the par- 
takers. A. cleared platter speaks louder than words. 
Decoys, shell cases, guns, a liberal sttpply of straw and 
three or four shovels are loaded into the rig, and we are 
oft across the trackless stubble fields toward a knoll 
which our friend tells us is in the line of fi;ght from the 
prairie lake to the feeding grounds. The morning is 
cold and frosty, almost cold enough for ice. For north 
of us the lakes are already solid, and the ducks and 
geese are moving sou.h to open water. The lake is not 
a great distance away, and an occasional note from the 
roosting mallards can be heard, otherwise no sound dis- 
turbs the surrounding st.Uness. 
Here we are upon the cliosen ground. Two pits 
must be dug, and we set to work by the light of the 
lantern. I say we, but as a matter of fact, the farmer 
and his hired man very considerately set us to watching 
the horses and getting the straw out of the wagon and 
unloading our shell cases and preparing the decoys. 
It was evident that we were more expert at other things 
than digging pits through half frozen prairie soil. 
There is no heaping up of earth around the pits, every 
shovelful is scattered to fall evenly upon the stubbh. 
Geese, pro.verbially stupid, are yet a suspicious bird in 
their wild 'state. They will decoy to a libel upon their 
race in the form of a one-legged tin fraud, haying noth- 
ing more than outline and color to commend it. I have 
frequently wondered why so many wise old ganders 
with the responsibilities of their charges upon them, 
should have gone to their deaths through a few pieces 
of painted tin that no one but a goose would mistake 
for a goose. 
I think it is simply an exempkfication of the old 
adage that love is blind, and the gander, the lord and 
master of the flock, seeing the possibility of additions 
to his harem, allows his lovesick blindness to lure him 
on. Some might argue that the birds, in the air, by 
instinct, thinking the ones in the stubble have found 
pleasant feeding grounds, accordingly keep them com- 
pany. But be this as it mav, records will prove that 
a goose call and a few tin gay deceivers have brought 
many a flock of geese out of the clouds down and 
within reach of a load of BB's. 
And Jim and the farmer are still digging, and we, 
having performed the arduous tasks considerately set 
for us, are holding the lantern and bossing the job. 
Under our superintendence the second pit is finally 
completed. Then the straw comes into play. We take 
it and thinly scatter it over the loose dirt thrown from 
the pits to make it approx'mate in appearance the sur- 
roundmg stubble. The decoys are now evenly divided 
and stuck into the ground around each pit. There is 
nothing left to be done than to get into the pits and 
await the first faint line of dawn upon the horizon. A 
tew finishing touches in the matter of scattering the 
remnants of straw judiciously about, when the shovels 
are thrown into the rig, and with hearty wishes for our 
success, our kind and obliging colaborers turn the 
horses' heads toward home, with a promise to return tor 
us at noon and pick us up. Jim, out of the darkness, 
Shells back to know if he had better bring the bg farm 
wagon to stow away our game. The glimmer of the 
retreating lantern and the pattering hoof beats of 
the horses upon the stubble are lost to sight and hear- 
ing, and we are left to ourselves. Our pits are thirty 
feet apart upon the crest of the knoll, and conversa- 
tion relieves the tedium. 
. We face toward the east, and with the very first 
streak of dawn we hear a faint honk far away and well 
up in the sky. The geese are on the wing. Honk! A 
little more distinct. They arc coming oUr way. We 
strain our eyes over the edge of the pit between two 
shielding decoys, but we can see nothing. Honk! 
Honk! More and more distinct, and we finger the 
safely slides of our guns to make sure tliey are right. 
There they are, well up, a dim sort of a V indistinctly 
contrasting with the struggling light along the earth 
line* 
We can now hear the low gabbling of the entire flock, 
a chorus to the resonant honks of the leading gander. 
The goose call is cautiously used and all seems well, for 
tlieir°flight is not only j^et d.rectly toward us, but they 
are lowering. If we hold straight they are our meat. 
We move not a muscle, hold owr breaths a&d W^it, 
Through the loOk-out we can clearly outline each bird 
and his markings, as well, With necks outstretched 
they are regarding our decoys with interest mingled 
with suspicion, but they are still coming on. The flock 
set up a sort of low squealing, much like what would 
be given out by a basket of restless puppies. How 
evenly and beautifully they come on. every bird keep- 
ing his line and distance, the leader with every .sense 
alert to danger and his every movement being watched 
by his followers, even to the rhythmic strokes of their 
wings. 
They are thirty yards up and almost over our heads, 
when the gander, becoming alarmed, gives forth a honk 
that acts like electricity upon the flock. Their line and 
formation is instantly broken as each and every bird 
seeks safety for itself. But for some it is too late, for 
as they pass over our heads and from us, four shots 
ring out in quick succession, and the flock goes on, 
minus four of its members, 
We jump from our pits, and with freshly loaded guns 
in hand, hasten to gather our game. One bird being 
wing-tipped, leads us a merry chase before we capture 
him. Another charge of shot would have closed his 
career, but the possibilities of a live decoy loomed up 
and we fairly ran him down, a thing not easy to do 
single-handed, sometimes. 
We stowed our birds away in our pits, secured the 
winged bird with a string to keep company with his tin 
brethren and do the goose calling better than we could 
do it, and await the coming of ^he next flock. 
iMore honking in the distance. It is daylight now 
and the rays of the sun are making objects discernible. 
We can see the coming birds high up and some distance 
ofi^. They come straight on, but long before they are 
within gun shot the leader, as it were, changes his tune, 
and the birds keep on, but making no attempt to get 
nearer to the earth. They are fully eighty to ninety 
yards up in the air, and we content ourselves with watch- 
ing them as they derisively go honking over our heads. 
They had no use for us and shunned our company. The 
leader, perhaps, knew a thing or two, very likely had 
had a charge of shot flung about his ears before and was 
not going to allow anything to override his caution 
begot of past experience. 
The geese kept coming, flocks to the right of us, 
flocks to the left of us, and flocks over us, alas! far out 
of gun shot. More than once we longed for a .30-30 so 
that we could try it on that saucy gander that honked 
so derisively at us a hundred and fifty yards up in the 
air. 
As the sun got higher and higher, we realized more 
and more that it was a poor day for ducks and geese. 
At noon our wagon came, and Jim called on us to 
show up. We threw our three geese into the rig, 
securely staked down our live decoy and started for din- 
ner. Before we reached the farmhouse it began to 
cloud up and the wind shifted to the east. Jim thought 
it meant, perhaps, a flurry of snow or some sleet, rain 
at least, and then we could expect some fun. 
He was right. We got all three. By the time we 
reached our pits again it was drizzling. 
We had hardly got settled and the team out of sight 
when, looking out from the pit I saw a lone gander 
not thirty yards away, poised, almost stationary, on 
wing, intently and with evident curiosity watching our 
decoys. There he was exposing himself like a wedge, 
bill pointed directly at me. I had often heard that a 
goose coming straight in would turn anything short of 
a rifle ball, and here was our opportunity to test it. 
No one ever had a better opportunity. I knew my 
gun. I was using the best of all shells. I drew a 
bead on the point of that gander's bill with the care 
and precision that one might take at a thousand-yard 
target — and pulled. 
Did the gander double up and drop from a cloud of 
feathers bored full of holes? Not for a moment. 
With a shrill and startled honk, honk, he pulled him- 
self together and quartered off to the right, giving me 
an ideal parting shot. I let him go for a few yards, 
giving him a chance to fall dead in midair from my pomt 
blank discharge, but instead he gained speed with every 
succeeding honk, until doubled up and brought to earth 
by my second barrel. I was more confirmed than ever 
that the safe way to shoot a goose is when he is mov- 
ing from you. You must get under the feathers. 
There were geese in the air, but they did not all come 
our way, although they seemed to be hugging the 
stubble. 
Once in a while a flock came our way low, in fact, just 
sk-mming the prairie, and in one instance the birds 
alighted among our decoys. It was sleeting at the 
time and the birds wanted company sorely. 
Then the snow came down in earnest, wet and sticky, 
packing in well under and between our collars and wet- 
ting us thoroughly. It was far from pleasant and com- 
fortable, and when we sighted the approaching wagon 
early yet in the afternoon, we were satisfied to quit. 
Our bag was ample, because it takes but few seven or 
eight-pound geese to make a respectable bag. 
When you drop a goose out of the heavens above 
and he falls plumb because of a broken neck as he 
strikes the hard prairie with a resounding whack, you 
realize that you have something. 
My friend had taken an incoming flock, and picking 
out the leader, was fortunate in putting one shot up- 
w^ard through the gander's head. Turning quickly to 
get a second barrel into the fleeting flock, the falling 
bird struck him full in the back between the shoulders, 
breaking his aim and resulting in the discharge of the 
gun. My companion collapsed and disappeared into the 
pit. I at first thought his neck was broken, but he 
pulled himself together finally and declared he had shot 
his last incoming goose. 
Charles Cristadoko. 
Vifg-inia Gfowse and Twrfceys.- 
Ilda, Va., Oct. 17.— There is a very large crop of grouse 
this year, and there also seems to be a large number of 
turkey and quail. Herb. 
All communications intended for Forest and Steeam should 
always be addressed to the Fotest and Stream Publishing Co., New 
York, and aot to «Q7. individual connected wit^ the |pap«r. 
Hunting in a Florida Jungle. 
To that lover of rare but adventurous, sport, that i 
found so often in a Florida jungle, tliis brief sketch, hs 
related to the .writer by one of the hunters, may be in- 
teresting. 
Every old hunter will see in the following a reflex of 
his own experience, for surprises and disappointments 
almost invariably figure in any sportsntan's calcula- 
tion, and the hunt that is planned to fill such a volunn- 
of sport frequently dwindles into little else than pur 
suit, and the hunt, for which little preparation has been 
made, sometimes contains a whole chapter of delight 
ful experiences, as the following briefly illttstrates: 
Two thorough woodsmen with a novice made the 
party. The trip was to consume but two days, of which 
the going and coming would Occupy half. Trout and 
wild turkeys were the objects. 
The day was crisp and fresh and dogs and men werd 
in high good humor. Quail season, with all its indfi 
vidual charm, was "on," and as the wagon lumbere 
along, the dogs ran upon two or three coveys, and 
noon a dozen toothsome Bob Whites were baggea 
These are cleaned, rubbed with salt and pepper, ant 
baked in an old-fa.shioned Dutch oven; and the tirec 
hunter forgets fatigue, troubles disappear, and he finds 
himself at peace with all mankind, as the luscious tid- 
bits of the forest feast tickle his palate. ; 
It was only noon and the trip had already been a 
pleasant one. At this point it was decided that the tesM 
with the camp outfit should go on to tlie foot of tHg 
sand hills, where the fishing was to be done, while oik 
of the hunters would take a circuit around the cdgi 
of the swamp to look for turkey signs. The wagon haq 
gotten l)ut a short distance when the report of Mose- 
ley's .gun was heard — which was interpreted as a signail 
to wait — probably to change plans. 
Soon the tall form of the hunter was seen coming 
across the hill, and on a near approach he called foif 
one of the horses to be brought — with the coolness oi' 
his thirty years' hunting experience, he remarked tha' 
he had killed a wild hog! 
On being questioned by the excited tenderfoot, he re 
ported that after getting well into the thicket he founi; 
where some hogs had been rooting. Stealthily creeping 
up on the trail he came within sight of a drove of si> 
wild hogs; he secured one at first shot, the rest of tb 
bunch scampering to the swamp without having seen thi 
hunter. This was glorious news to the party and mean! 
changing all plans, for it was now resolved that fishiiij 
would keep and a wild hog hunt would be in order. 
While Moseley went for the "game," the others pre^ 
pared the camp site, procuring water and wood, mud 
pleased at the prospect of reviving "hog killing" day 
in old Kentucky, when laughing negroes, the hoe cak 
and the cracklings, made the day a festal on the oI( 
plantation home. 
Unprepared for any such work as cleaning a porkei^ 
the most primitive style had to be resorted to, which 
however, never daunted the Florida hunters. ; 
A lard can was converted into an impromptu kettle, i, 
depression was scratched in the ground, moss was pullet 
from the trees, knives made ready, and work began. Thi 
men hard at work soon changed his majesty from a blaci 
rooter of the forest to as white a form as an aristocratiii 
young Berkshire. 
It is supper time, and the old Dutch oven is agaij 
brought into use, and with spare ribs roasting, encii; 
cled in a ring of sw-eet potatoes, as the exquisite flavQ 
floats out on the evening air, to quote front an Eesthetif 
Florida huntsman, "the flowers close up with envy anf 
the mockingbird swoons because he can never rival tha; 
sweetness." ' 
On beds of moss pulled from the great live oaks thn 
hunters slept the .sleep of the just. Before day the 
were out with the hope of surprising some turkeys, bu 
the shrewd birds were nowhere to be found in the be) 
of timber which was supposed to be their roosting place 
and the hunters decided to tramp across the hill to se [ 
if by chance there were feeding on the oak mast. 
Before going far, Tiner signalled that he had discovl 
ered signs of game, and tracks of a large buck wef 
plain where he had been feeding on acorns but a i& 
hours before. For an hour they trailed him around, an 
around, expecting to see him every moment jump froi 
some covert. The dogs grew frantic as a clump of sma' 
oaks wfts approached, and each man took a position t 
secure the deer, but to the chagrin of the hunters, th 
turkeys so long and earnestly hunted, were seen to leav 
the brow of the hill and fly across to the cvpress timbe 
beyond. ... 
Finally, the deer trail led down from the sand hills int 
a big flat covered with a rank growth of saw palmetto. 
"Now," says Moseley, "I know where he is; he is lyii^ 
down near the pass that leads into the drive on tl 
other side of the swamp. This same old buck has bee 
jumped a number of times during the past two year 
but always made his escape through the drive." 
Progress through the sea of palmettos was slow, bl 
Mosely, the best woodsman in the county, persistent! 
followed the trail, a tortuous, scrubby path made by " 
deer and cattle, until the chase verged toward the pc 
on the further side of the palmetto flat. The dogj 
leaped and barked, trying to see over the tall thick paJ 
metto. The entire field had been traversed now, arf 
IVIosely realized that the only chance for the deer 
of his being in the palmetto bordering the swamp. J. 
as the edge near the pass was approached, a large a 
lered deer leaped from his cool retreat, which was wii 
in a few bounds of safety, in the swamp. The unerri 
gun spoke as the deer made his second bound, and 1 1 
fell to rise no more. He proved to be a magnifice | 
specimen, one of the largest ever Jcilled in the coiiiii 
with ten-prong antlers. 
The prize was carried to the, outer edge oi the pci 
metto scrub and there carefully covered with palmet 
leaves to keep the keen-eyed buzzards from dcvourir 
him. , . i 
While Tiner went to the camp for a horse fa carry t!^ 
game, Mosely and the exuberant tenderfoot starteti 
hunt the trail of hogs, and by the time Tiner join 
the hunters the dogs had rounded up the bunch of ho|| 
In a dense jungle of saw palmetto, running vine 
