Nov. 22, 1902.] 
FOREST AND* STREAM. 
407 
do not realize what the Appalachian National Park move- 
ment really means, then get some literature on the sub- 
ject, read up on it, tlien take five minutes' of j^our time and 
write your Congressman to favor the bill when it comes 
befote'the next House, for it Is surely coming before that 
body of lawiiiakers; . _ , ' . . 
Along with the many other intefestlng pomta of a ting- 
neck pheasant, there is no handsomer Wrd ; the plumage 
of a well-preserved cock pheasant is something beaut) ;ilL 
A friend told me that while on a fishing trip on the Little 
Pigeon River, forty miles above Knoxville, two summers 
ago, one afternoon while patiently awaiting the maneuvers 
of a black bass, a slight noise at his back attracted his at- 
tention. He had heard some pheasant whistling near by, 
so he carefully turned his eye toward the noise without 
moving, and there, within twenty feet, were two hens 
standing on a mound, and in half a minute a full-plumed 
cock appeared. He carefully surveyed the surroundings 
and then began what proved the greatest exhibition of 
pride my friend had ever seen. He said the cock walked 
around in the most dominant manner It is possible to con- 
ceive, every feather seeming to be placed to the best ad- 
vantage, with his long tail made into a fan, he swelled his 
neck to wonderful proportions, all of which the hens 
seemed to appreciate to the greatest degree of admira- 
tion ; the exhibition, he said, would make a turkey gobbler 
or a peacock absolutely ashamed of himself. 
1 am not as familiar with the habits of ring-neck 
pheasants as I should like to be, and would be glad to 
hear more of the great bird from parties who are in- 
tcrcstcd. 
Nov. I was opening day iti Tettiiessee on quail, and was 
taken advantage of by a good m.any local sportsmen. The 
weather was all that could be desired for a day in the 
fields with a dog and gun. However, owing to the very 
rank growth of weeds and briers, and exceedingly dry 
weather, the bags were^ small, so far as I have learned. 
The birds found splendid hiding and it was hard work for 
the dogs. The season has bSeen the be.st in years, and 
birds are plentiful. 
For the first time in years I spent the day ni the field, 
and there being no school on Saturday, took my second 
son, Pete, along, he being very anixous to try his new 
Marlin repeater. We went twenty miles out on the 
Southern Railway, where I have the run of two large 
plantations, which I helped to restock with quail after 
the big freeze, and upon our return to the station at 3 
o'clock in the afternoon, we found we had twenty-six 
fine birds. The boy made two nice doubles, bagging eight 
birds in all out of six or seven covie.s found, the last of 
which was at the edge of a plowed field. Two got up, 
which 1 downed ; two got up for Pete, which he knocked 
down within twenty feet of each other, which made five 
birds at five shots— time, one-half minute. Who did 
l_,etter? Samcel B. Dow. 
The Vanishing Woodcock. 
ChaRlestown, N. H., Nov- 13— Editor Forest and 
Stream: Your typesetters made witchwork with my verses, 
"Ovef the Long Divide," in Forest and Stream of Oct. 
r8. by printing "Bland choral symphonies" instead of 
•■Heard," etc. It did not interfere with the rhyme, but 
it spoilt the reason! 
I have been very much interested in the various letters 
relating to the vanishing woodcock, and agree with your 
other correspondents that some measures should be taken 
at once to prevent their entire extinction, and among 
ihem I suggest a complete close season at the Nortn 
until the first of September, and at the South after the 
first of January. In fact, I do not see why the general 
Government is not able to pass fi law prohibiting the 
killing of all migratory birds, not the special property or 
production of any State, such as "swans, geese, ducks 
woodcock, etc., from the first of March to the first oi 
September. I think it would be fully as constitutional as 
the Lacey Bill, so called. 
I have not shot a woodcock myself for many long- 
years, and only know of their scarcity from general re- 
port, but such letters as those of Mr. C. M. Stark are 
conclusive to me, for he writes from a region whicii I 
know well, where these birds were so abundant fifty 
years ago, that the great dish, at the annual dinner of 
the manufacturing companies at Manchester, N. H., the 
first week in October, and to whicli 100 to 150 guests 
always assembled, was "broiled woodcock," which mine 
host Shepherd, of the Manchester House, one of the 
old-fashioned New England innkeepers, always providea 
in great style, and for which he always found plenty of 
birds, as the flight was then in full tide. 
I knew the woodcock coverts around Manchester well 
some forty vears ago, and many a pleasant day have I 
{■•ad after the birds in those days, of one of which I was 
reminded by Charles Cristadoro's letter describing shoot- 
ing in Connecticut, published a few weeks since. It was 
a bright Indian summer day, the ist of November, m 1861, 
I think. There were three of us, one having with him a 
staimch old pointer, over which he had shot for years; 
another a younger pointer he was training for tne, and 
myself. The bag we got was a mixed one, like Mr. 
Cristadoro's, but a satisfactory one on the whole. It 
comprised woodcock, ruft'ed grouse and gray squirrels, 
and although it is so long since that I forget nearly all 
the details, I well remember two of my own shots, one. 
the first one I fired, where I "wiped the eyes" of both of 
my companions, by a long-range shot at a bird they had 
both missed, just as he was disappearing round a clump 
of alders, and the other at a bird going straight away 
which mv companions both said I had missed, but which 1 
followed' up over two stone walls and a road, until I 
found him, fiat on his back in the next pasture, his red 
breast gleaming in tlie sun. amid the brown grass, 
I think we got a brace of great northern hares that 
day also, I was shooting that fall with a 14-gauge gun, 
made by Kirkwood. of Boston, belonging to an old friend 
of mine, and one of the best guns I ever brought to my 
shoulder. It had more drop of stock than my own 12- 
gauge, which was all right to pick a gray squirrel out of 
a tatl tree, but with which I always shot over on the level. 
I shall never forget that day, the mild air, the bright 
sunshine, the pleasant companionship and the perfect 
working of the young dog. We have all laid down the 
gun now, and one has gone "over the long divide." where 
the others must soon fQll.QW in natural coijrse of. 
the tjjne. _ _ - - - 
But this i§a divefsion from my topic -of game protec- 
tion. I want to see "spring shooting" stopped entirely, 
and I know no other way than for Congress to assume the 
authority, and I believe that such a "State's rights" man 
as Senator Vest would find it constitutional ! 
Game protection is showing its effects here in this 
town. Deer are frequently seen, and one herd of three 
is often noticed on a hill farm, about three miles east of 
the village. One of my young friends, Mr. F. Way, shot 
a fine three-year-old buck over in Vermont, where shoot- 
ing is allowed the last ten days of October, which dressed 
145 pounds. It was shot at the base of Skitsewauke 
Mountain, very near the spot where one was shot last, 
vear, and about two miles from this village. 1 think in 
a few years more we may be able to allow a short open 
season in the lower counties of this State, thotigh I do 
not expect to ever take advantage of it myself. Blaze 
away at spring shooting in every number, you will bring 
down the game some day ! Von W. 
A Wild Goose on Staten Island. 
Shooting in Greater New York. 
On Saturday, Oct. 24, of this year, my brother Will 
and I started to go blackfishing. The wind was blowing 
pretty stiffly from the east, our usual storm quarter. 
The distance from father's house to the light house 
where we keep our boat, is about a half mile ; I took my 
gun, thinking we might have some chances at ducks. 
When half the distance had been traversed, Will sud- 
denly said, "What is that in Vanderbilt s wheat field a 
wild goose?" Looking in the direction toward which he 
was pointing I saw my first live wild Canada goose on 
terra flrma, and getting opposite where he was feeding on 
the vouno- wheat, we crouched behind some scrub pmes 
and'held"a consultation of war. As he was about 150 
yards awav and nothing better than iVz-mch wheat to 
conceal one's self, vou can imagine what a chance we had 
of securing him. However, the only chance was to try to 
"sneak" near enough to secure a shot. So_ getting Hat 
upon mv stomach I began to crawl toward him. Moving 
only when he bent his head to feed, I slowly made my 
way toward hiin. It was hard work, and rough on both 
me and the wheat. I had made probably fifty yards and 
not being used to such work, my head was aching tear- 
fully with every move forward. 
The goose now began to observe something suspicious 
in such a large object upon the hitherto open field, and 
I was compelled to be snore careful than ever, _ 
Soon he began to move away at a right angle, walking 
faster than I could crawl without being observed, and 1 
looked around to ascertain the cause. In the open field, 
not 200 yards away, and walking directly toward Mr. 
goose, came a man. Thinking him a farm hand and realiz- 
mo- that what remained to be done must be done quickly, I 
jumped to mv feet and made for the goose at a dead run 
I had not gone six paces when he rose on the wing and 
started away. Hastily checking myself I gave him both 
barrels of No. 2 .shot, without appearing to disturb him 
any. Away he flew and making for a marsh about a mile 
awav, pitched. . 
I turned back and then recognized my father as the 
man who was walking on the goose. He had come down 
the road, and when Will showed him the goose, he had 
walked out in the field, intending to walk around him ,ind 
walk him back to me. When he reached a certain distance 
Will was to also start out. Here is where they made their 
mistake ; if Will had gone first. I should have known him 
instantly and divined his purpose, but supposing father 
anvwhere else but in that field, I did not know him. 
We now gathered up our traps and continued to the 
lighthouse, where Will borrowed "Uncle" Jake's gun and 
he and I started out for Mr. goose. As Will' has killed 
hundreds of geese in North Dakota, he assumed the lead- 
ership and when we approached the marsh (nearly all 
covered with cat-tails") he told me to go to the right and 
he Avent to the left. Keeping close to the reeds, I made my 
way carefullv along, alert and watchful. I had gone per- 
haps 75 yards. Avhen a shot rang out, and the No. 4s flew 
all about me. 
Making my wav back to Will, I found him at the edge 
of a "nond hole" and a dead ?oose in the center. He had 
shot it through the head Avhile it was swimming m the 
water, as "'Uncle" Jake's gun was only a single barrel 
and the shot. No. 4, a trifle light. 
Getting some stones. Ave forced the goose to the sedge 
and carried it triumphantly back to "Uncle" Jake's. 
As it Avas blowing too hard to go fishing, Ave returned 
home, and taking my Irish setter (Taft'y) I started for a 
walk and incidentallv some game. 
As Staten Island huntina- is very uncertain, it does not 
appeal verv strongly to Will (Avho has had such fine shoot- 
inp- out West), .so he decided to remain at home. 
Headin? for a marsh about a half mile distant. I started 
Tafl'y looking for English snipe. Like all other Irish set- 
ters that T have seen he is very Avild for some time after 
leaving his chain, and he Avent through the marsh like 
"hot cakes." 
We had covered perhans 100 A'ards. Avhen seaipc^ -^-ipe 
went an Englishman, zig-7.agging on the left quarter, 
about 50 Awards away, in a frenzy to escape. Right and 
left barrel? rang out in rapid succession, and he came 
down in a hean. leavins' a trail of feathers floating sloAvly 
earthward. Tafifv retrieved him in snlendid form, and 
■"•e moved forAvard honing for more. This Avas the first 
Endish snipe I had shot this fall, and I think it Avill be 
niA' last. 
We covered considerable marshy gi.itmd aiter mis 
without a bird, and then nassed doAA'n to the shore. After 
Avalking perlians three-ouarters of a mile I had fallen into 
a "broAvn study" and thoughts of bird' Avere far aAvay, 
n-hen T Avas startled bv the sharn Avhistle of the yelloAV- 
leff. as fi\^p of the large ones flushed from a bog, right 
and left foHoAved each other quickly, and two of thp beau- 
ties drnnf)ed in the Avater. one only Aving broken, the oth- 
prs made a circle and I hastily inserted tAA'o more shell? 
into the eun, "'histlinsr as T did so. Attracted bA^ the 
1^-hi'^tlp and the \«roundf>d bird, \hc\ came gracefulU'- 
.nmtind in good range. This time only one came to earth. 
b"t I am "^orrv to sav that the other was wounded, and 
although showing signs of di=trps<;. he made good his 
esrarie. in comnanA' Avith his felloAA'. 
After Taffy had retrieved the fcirds, Ave crossed ^ 
fflea4o\v-and a "flood gate" by the mill pond, and began a 
tour of the creeks in hopes of a shot at a duck or meadow 
hen. Shortly after Taffy pointed in the short meadow 
grass and thinking he had a Avren, I called him oft. He 
remained rigid, hoAvever, Avith right forefoot lifted, and 
I made tOAvard him. Suddenly the bird moved and he 
sprang for it. whereupon it flushed and was bagged clean- 
ly by 'my right. A feAV rods further I flushed a sora rail 
and added that to my bag, which was assuming respect- 
able proportions. 
Now ensued a long ramble around the various creeks, 
and I was beginning- to lose my alertness, when, with a 
roar of Avings a big black duck flared straight tOAvard me. 
Realizing that my No. ps Avere of small moment, I gave 
him the "benefit of the 7j4s, and folloAved it Avith the gs; 
although he continued his flight, he was hard hit, and I 
Avatched him getting lower and lower, and finally alight 
about 600 yards away. 
I marked him down carefully. and_ keeping Taflty to 
heel, made my Avay quickly toAvard him. I thought he- 
had dropped in a clump of blue-bent, but I beat it all over 
without result. Leaving the grass. I Avent into an adjoin- 
ing corn-stubble about 50 yards further and then turned 
and came back, facing the Avind. 
Taffy being sent on ahead, ranged back and forth, and 
finallv pointed just at the edge of the blue-bent, but in the 
stubble. Stepping forward I could not see the duck until 
he moA-ed and tried to get aAvay ; he had covered himself 
or craAvled under some thick soft grass. As he could not 
fly, Taffv caught him and retrieved him. Then I started 
homcAvard fully satisfied Avith my day's hunt. I reached 
home at ?. P. M.. having been away six hours. As I was 
going to Connecticut after Avoodcock the next Aveek, I had 
my grip full of togs and had to carry my game on a 
string. 
As a wild goose is a rarity on Staten Island, you can 
imagine the excitement my string created. When I 
reached the railroad station old Staten Islanders said it 
Avas the finest "mess" they had seen in ten years. 
In the smoking car. on the boat, up BroadAvay, across 
the brido-e. and uptOAvn on the Kings County L, it Avas a 
continual craniner of necks and murmurs of admiration 
at my game, prinrinally caused by the goose, Avhich was 
a beauty. It weighed q pounds and measured (if I re- 
member aripht) six fpet from tip to tip. 
Thus ended one of those pleasant and CA'^entful trips 
AA'hich remain ever green in memory, to be recalled, ever 
and anon. Avith inrreasing vividness, as youth departs be- 
fore the irresistible demands of increasing years, and 
the snowy hair betokens the ripeness of the human fruit. 
W. H. Emmons. 
' Brooklyn, N. Y,, Nov. 15. 
The Coot as a Game Bird. 
With the gradual decline of duck hunting on Lake 
Washington,' which forms the eastern boundary of Seattle, 
and extends both north and south of the boundary limits 
for eight or nine miles either Avay, there has grown up a 
system of shooting that is actually funny, irrespective of 
what one's personal ideas may be about it from an ethical 
standpoint. I refer to the Sunday battery shooting di- 
rected at the aAvlvAvard and ungainly coot, or, as we call 
it in the Pacific Northwest, mud hen. Two weeks ago, 
Avhile coming doAvn from the head of the lake late in the 
afternoon, I counted three cripples and anywhere from 
eight to a dozen dead birds. True, it is that Sunday is a 
day of reckoning for the mud hen. Its slate-black body 
and ivory-Avhite pointed bill make a good target. 
The cannonading commences w'ith the first signs of 
daAvn and lasts, Avith noAV and then a lull, all day long. 
Far down the lake you Avill see a small launch, and a few 
moments later the breeze brings to your ears the sounds 
of guns. Bang — ^bang— bang, bang, bang, they go. With 
a Avild beating of wings against the water the mud hens 
are under Ava}'. They kick their long, awkAvard legs out 
behind, and stretch their black necks forAvard until at last 
they get up enough momentumi to permit of a fairly rapid 
and steadjr flight. Often they Avill fly at such an angle 
to the invading battery that a good opportunity is offered 
for a second volley. It is not so easy as one might imag- 
ine to do effective shooting under the latter conditions. 
The bird offers a good target, and if it does not have the 
speed of a duck or the corkscre.Av motion of the snipe, yet 
the motion of the boat from the Avaves as Avell as from 
the engine injects problems that must be figured out quick- 
ly and accurately if good results are to be obtained. 
I have seen men Avbo Avere rated as good shots fail to 
get "everything in sieht," when shooting from a moving 
launch. Of course, it is an easy matter to get a mud 
hen just as it gets up, especially if it goes straight away; 
because the body of the bird sags Ioav, the Avings are out- 
stretched and motion is not rapid. 
It Avould seem as though the mud hens of Lake Wash- 
ington Avould le^rn the value of a long flight, but some- 
hoAv or other they are in the same places eA^'ery Sunday 
and seldom take trouble to move until the enemy is with- 
in range. I have seen it stated by some authorities tliat 
the mud hen is shy of man, but out in the Pacific North- 
west the reverse is true: they seem to court danger; per- 
haps they haA'e enjoved immunity so long, owing to the 
"strength" of their flesli, that they believe there is no 
danger. 
T have no idea of the number of small launches, that go 
out .Avith parties, ntimbf ring from one to three, for a run 
after mud hens. One Sunday I counted up to eight and 
then stopped, and. mind you. I was at only one "spot on 
the lake, Avhile the mud hens are found in every bay along 
the lake, which easilv has a circumference of sixty miles, 
probably nearer eightv. I asked one party Avhat luck 
it had and the renly Avas, "Oh, Ave picked up a dozen ; I 
guess we got half as many more." At this." rate at least 
TOO mud hens are killed every Aveek, and yet I cannot see 
that there is auA' signs of a decrease. 
Judging from the effort it requires for a mud hen to 
fly. one Avould think that migration could not enter to any 
ffreat extent into their habits, yet T. Percy Parkinson, 
formerly editor of the Nome NeAvs. Avho is noAV in Seattle, 
says that the mud hen is one of the yearly AMsitors to the 
north, and Avith other Avater fowl makes its way south in 
the fall, following the Siberian coast and then the long 
chain of Aleiitian islands. Some of them undoubtedly 
remain in their Wa.shington marsh homes the year around, 
t)Ut tliere is no qyesticm but that large mafpirity disatu-^ 
