Aug. is, 1903.]' 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
127 
ments or procures admission into a dub's territory. 
So, having provided himself with the "open sesame" 
to the park, to a club preserve or to the unclaimed 
country nearby, a sportsman may, in the evening of the 
second day after leaving New York City, sup on trout 
and sleep under blankets on the edge of a hunting 
ground combinedly as convenient, promising and inex- 
pensive as can be pointed out on the map of North 
America. 
Owing to the density of the forest hereabouts, it 
would seem to be impossible to deplete the trout or 
exterminate the animals and game birds that are in- 
digenous to this latitude, even though no protection 
were accorded them; and, since there are protective 
laws, and since they are now enforced with such perse- 
verance and rigor as never before, there is bound to 
be an increase of fishes, beasts and birds. 
A descendant of the Huron tribe of Indians, who has 
trapped in this vicinity for over forty years, said last 
autumn that his two months' visit of the preceding 
winter yielded him over fifty pelts of the bear, otter 
and marten. Of moose and caribou he saw many, and 
their wanderings at that season of the year often ex- 
tend to the bordering settlements. 
The timber has never been cut or btirned, and when 
the loud report of a falling tree reverberate through the 
forest, causing the browsing animals to lift their heads 
and the hunter to pause and listen with wonderment, it 
is because it was ripe in years and had precisely ful- 
filled its lawful functions. They lie as they have fallen, 
frequently forming stifif hurdles for weary legs and 
sometimes an abatis, soon to be coveted by a pall of 
the beautiful fungi. 
To come upon the alert animals unaAvares, while scal- 
ing these breastworks, is too much to expect, and 
therefore the only way to get within rifle range is by 
visiting the lakes or an occasional marsh, where tlfe 
water-loving beasts disport themselves while browsing 
on the bordering grasses or overhanging shrubs. 
The hunter doesn't have things all his own Avay, and 
this uncertainty only serves to intensify his interest and 
magnify his success. A man versed in woodcraft has 
been known to have gone into these woods for five 
successive years without securing a head, notwith- 
standing the fact that many men with less experience, 
and some with none,-have brought out prizes from the 
same vicinity in each of these seasons. Inexperienced 
men sometimes accomplish surprising results because 
of their greater caution and a iriore explicit reliance 
upon instinct when hunting. There was a young fellow 
down in Maine some years ago who was so green in 
experience that he did not shoot at a swiftly running 
deer because he "expected it to break its neck at any 
minute." He excited mirth among the older sports- 
men when he would begin still-hunting the moment 
he passed from the shadow of the camp, and yet at the 
end of their respective visits the tenderfoot had 
bagged more game than any other member of the party. 
In the section of country under discussion discour- 
agement is averted by the probable appearance of fresh 
signs of the moose or caribou in the mornings within 
short distances of the camp, and at frequent intervals 
during a day's travel on the portages and around the 
lake shores. The reading of these marks on the soft 
vegetable mould is exceedingly interesting, as every 
woods lover knows, and to have as an associate a guide 
who is a very Indian and always aware of a recent dis- 
turbance of the surface soil, quick to detect the cause 
as well as the why and wherefore of it, adds much to 
one's enjoyment of a day's hunt or journey. For in- 
stance, a moose track entered the "road" we traveled 
one day last autumn; it was the mark of a young ani- 
mal, and he had the start of us by almost two days — 
so the signs told us. Ere long the boot print of a 
hunter, with guides in mocassins, also entered the path, 
and their imprints were just about the same age as 
those of the animal; but probably the latter was in ad- 
vance, because the scent of the men's tracks might have 
■driven him from the line of march. For possibly two 
miles these footprints of men and beast commingled, 
and we actually entered into the spirit of the chase, so 
clearly could we imagine the eagerness of the hunter's 
desire. The trail led us to a lake, where we took to 
our canoe, and fifty yards from the place of embarka- 
tion, on a little point of land, lay the carcass of a young 
bull moose, with a bullet hole over the heart. His 
tracks in the sand of the shallow arm of the lake showed 
where he had halted to browse, and he was probably so 
engaged wdien the hunter hove into sight. They saw 
each other, and as the moose reached the shore line, 
one well-aimed shot laid him low and the story was 
told. 
With the fisherman visitor there is but one uncer- 
tainty — that of the size of the trout. He may have his 
flies besiegled by fingerlings, which sometimes. Avelcome 
the decorated hook in schools and with .surprising gym- 
nastic performances, or he may land the "busting" 
five-pounder. Throughout this neighborhood the trout 
seem to have almost exclusive possession of the waters; 
and while they afford much better sport in June, July 
and August, they still take the fly quite freely in Sep- 
tember, and may be confidently relied upon by the 
hunter for food. 
Partridges, so called, of both varieties, are plentiful, 
and, like the trout, may always be taken into account 
when preparing the provision list. 
Ducks frequently cross the line of travel, usually in 
trios, for some reason or other; but several independent 
groups are frequently found on the same body of water. 
The ground rises sharply from the lake shores, and as 
these elevations are very much increased by the sur- 
mounting fir trees, the ducks must make three com- 
plete circumnavigations of any small lake before at- 
taining a suflicient elevation to clear the obstructions, 
and the man with a shotgun gets fine sport. 
The French-Canadian guides dift'er in several ways 
from any others. They are not, generally speaking, 
such astute hunters as those of Maine and the Adiron- 
dacks, and who could expect them to be after seeing 
the loads they shoulder? They are more of the nature 
oi courcurs des boi s, as.d their pay is on that basis, a 
dollar and a quarter i*r day. They carry no Weapons 
unless the hunting knife and ax may be so called, and 
this fact serves to concentrate their interest in the 
sportsman's opportunities- When hunting on their 
own account they use antiquated "ram-shackle" fire- 
arms that are a menace to every living thing in sight. 
They hold the weapon in a manner calculated to save 
as many fingers as possible when the explosion comes, 
and invariably, even at the risk of losing a shot, cross 
themselves before ptdling the trigger. They will guide 
you to lakes containing many fish or the larger fish, as 
you prefer, or to the well-known feeding grounds of 
game, and will there await developments with a keen 
interest. 
It is only an occasional guide who will venture from 
the blazed trails to find a new lake in unexplored terri- 
tory, where the scent of human kind has never awaken- 
ed dread in the senses of the neighboring animals. 
They have enviable dispositions, are devout, abstem- 
ious, possessed of wonderful endurance, and are so 
generally satisfactory that one feels a hesitancy in 
meddling with their private afltairs by asking them to 
bathe, even when they, in time, arrive at a parlous 
stage of gameness. It is not at all surprising that the 
juvenile and fastidious hunter should have shown signs 
TRAVEL IN CANADA. 
of indignation when his guide, in a characteristically 
meek and impersonal manner, diagnosed the escape of 
the game, "because dey smells you." Another weak- 
ness of these individuals is the ceaseless clatter of their 
i'vcnch ton.gues when off duty and in a group. They 
nmst repeat themselves many times, for surely there 
are not enough subjects of conversation under heaveii 
to supply these fellows with material for a two weeks 
campaign. One loses patience with their garrulity. 
The visitor to this part of the world can take things 
easy it he chooses and gain in avoirdupois, or he can 
cover more territory and on departure from the forest 
be in a physical condition that would win the approval 
of a football coach. In either case, if he becomes pos- 
sessed of the placid and careless spirit of the w-oods.^ he 
will readily excuse the return to savagery of Darwm s 
supposed reclaimed Patagonians, for even after a briet 
period of complete freedom from irritation and care, 
spent in the rare atmosphere of these Laurentian hills, 
dressed and shod with almost barbaric simphcity and 
comfort, a feeling of rebellion accompanies a return to 
the centers of trade and the prescribed uniform of ad- 
vanced civilization. Lippincott. 
Baltimore. 
How I Got My First Antelope. 
In the fall of 1886 I visited a friend in one of the 
extreme western counties of Kansas. The surrounding 
country was then new, having received its first settlers 
the year before, and it was no uncommon sight to see 
antelope roaming about. However, I was not favored 
with a sight of any until one evening, when I got into 
a buggy with my friend Max to go over eastward on 
ljU SIIICSS. 
I took my gun, hoping to see some game The 
sun was not high, and Max drove rapidly that we 
might get back before dark. After we had gone per- 
hapes three miles. Max called my attention to some 
moving objects ahead of us, and on the opposite side 
of what seemed to be a deep and wide gorge in the 
plain. The objects were mere specks to us, and I at 
once suggested that probably we were looking at 
nothing more uncommon than some settler's barnyard 
However, as we came nearer our hens began to 
change in appearance, and on coming still nearer, "It is 
antelope!" cries Max. .. 
"Why, yes," I answer, "why did we not think ot 
that before?" And I grasp my Winchester and raising 
the rear sight am ready for a long shot. But when I 
look up, the antelope have passed from sight, for we 
are going down into a gorge which runs at an angle 
with and opens into the very one in which we now sus- 
pect the antelope are grazing. In the angle between 
the two gorges is a high ridge which Max thinks I 
had best climb, for being once at its top, my view wfll 
command all shooting range. Max will stay where he 
is with the buggy until he hears my firing, when he is 
to drive rapidly around the foot of the ridge. 
I become very much excited. Game like this is a 
new and heretofore entirely unseen thing to me. Eag- 
erly I climb that ridge, and nearing its top, get down 
on my hands and knees, trailing my gun as best I can. 
Soon I am at a point from which, peeping over, I can 
view the whole width of the gorge and its length for 
a great distance. 
But I do not need to look far, for just down below 
me and not OA^er three-fourths of a city block away 
from me, and m clear, open sight and grazing quietly, 
^ve the antelope — seven of them — beautiful creatures 
they are! I caa see their eyes distinctly and can al- 
most hear them browse the grass so close are they to 
me. But I am crouching close to the ground and do- 
not dare to rise, even to a sitting posture, lest I 
frighten the shy creatures. They do not scent me even 
now, for the wind, fortunately, is coming from them to 
me, nor are they likely to see me if I am careful, for 
I am between them and the setting sun. I am afraid 
to attempt a shot from here, and looking about for a 
better position, I notice a large boulder — one about 
the size of a large dry goods .box^ — sticking itself out 
of the ground on down the slope toward the antelope 
perhaps half way. If only I can get behind that rock! 
Then surely my dreams will come true, for I can rest 
my rifle on its top and take more certain aim. Be- 
sides, I will then be much closer to the game. But to 
attempt to reach it! Ah, there's the rub! But I must 
do something for Max is Avaiting and will not wait 
long. Hugging my rifle close in my arms I cautiously 
lie down on the ridge and slowly begin to roll tOAvard 
that rock, pausing after each turn of the wheel to 
make sure that the antelope have not sighted me. 
After a great many turns and pauses I exult to find 
myself screened behind that rock. Getting to my feet 
I lay my rifle across its top and begin casting about 
for the finest looking antelope. But I am unable to find 
any difference. All are equally plump. 
I sight my gun now at one and now at another. 
Here is one with its head toward me. Ah, how nicely 
I could pink him between the eyes! But as I have 
heard old hunters say that behind the left foreleg is 
the surest spot, I shall wait until one places himself 
in position. Of course, when I shoot the game will be 
mine! No doubt of that! And I glance about for a 
buggy-way to the place where presently my quarry 
shall lie. I feel no mistrust of my splendid rifle. Just 
yesterday I shot se\'cral ducks at long distances and 
missed not once. And, besides, it Avas offhand; now I 
have a rest. When I shoot and kill one of these beauti- 
ful creatures I shall yet have fifteen shots in my maga- 
zine, and most certainly they will not all go amiss 
as tlie game scampers away! 
Now! Sec! There is one in position! Quickly I 
take sight! "Spang!" goes my rifle, and "phiff!" the 
ball flicks the dust over and beyond where the antelope 
stood. But the antelope and all its companions are 
bounding, bunched, up the gorge. Rapidly I fire again 
and again as they leap away, until all my loads are 
gone. And I stand dumbfounded at the result: Not 
an antelope, dead or Avounded! 
Dumbfounded, now I look at my gun, and now at the 
antelope, as they stand away across yonder on that 
high ground and gaze back at me, until Max, having 
heard my shots, comes driving up the gorge. 
"Well!" he says, "hoAv many?" 
"None!" I answer, in desperation. "I overshot." 
"Look here," he replied, ^'how are your gun sights?" 
Then it flashed over me. I had forgotten to lower 
the rear sight of the rifle after having raised it for a 
long-distance shot as Ave came down in the buggy. 
Then I felt as if I had not tasted food for six months 
and that probably I would ncA^er again get my stomach 
in condition. Wm. J. Beck. 
COLUMBLS, Ind. 
About Golden Plov2r. 
Omaha, Neb. — I made mention in a previous letter 
of the Avild ducks' nests found by Dexter L. Thomas 
on his ranch out in Garfield county a few weeks ago, 
and of the fact that Mr. Thomas stated that there were 
more birds breeding this season along the lowlands of 
the Loup than Avere CA^er known before. Yesterday 
J. D. Braj'ton, president of the Rock County Bank,, 
at Bassett, this State, was in my office, and he re- 
marked that hundreds of ducks, including canvasbacks, 
redheads, mallards and about all of our common 
spring and autumn visitors but the bluebill, had bred 
about the big rice lakes below Bassett. He said that 
nothing like it Avas ever known in that vicinity before 
and that the citizens of the town drove down there fre- 
quently just to watch the birds. Mr. Brayton is a true 
sportsman, and there are many more like him in his 
thriA'ing little city, and the nesting birds spoken of 
were religiously guarded from molestation. Bassett 
is also the home of Judge J. J. Carlin, probably the 
best posted naturalist and sportsman in the State. The 
Judge has made it his personal business to see that the 
game of Rock county is not unlawfully disturbed, and 
the consequence is that there is no county in the State 
Avhere chicken and quail are so plentiful. 
In talking over the nesting ducks, Mr. Brayton said 
that he accounted for the selection of that locality by 
the birds, the cold, backward spring and the tremen- 
dous floods which had existed all through the West, 
as Avell as by the natural advantages for breeding pur- 
poses the lake-starred plateau below Bassett affords. 
He also said that several upland plovers' nests had been 
discovered on the sloping hillsides along the Sunflower, 
and that an unusual number of . golden plover haunted 
the region this spring. It might not be amiss to state 
that Garfield and Rock counties are adjacent and that 
they haA^e always been the center of the most prolific 
game region of the State. Some of the lakes also fur- 
nish good sport for the wielders of the split bamboo 
and lanceAVOod, black bass abounding plentifully. 
Speaking about the golden plover, the bird is ex- 
tremely rare out here now, but in the old days when I 
first came to Omaha they Avere almost as plentiful as 
the little grass sandpipers. Occasionally in the early 
autumn some one reports having seen a small bunch of 
the birds, here, there or somewhere else, but seldom is 
a gunner encountered who has made a kill, even of a 
single bird. 
TAvelve or fourteen years ago there was little sport 
more interesting or more certain to be rcAvarded Avith 
a good bag than the shootmg of this grand little game 
bird down at Percival or Bigelow, or up at Bancroft 
or Pendor, or even Avithin an easy Avalk of Omaha it- 
self, \\dien he visited the broad pastures and plowed 
fields to the Avest of us in the early fall. In those 
davs, too, he filled Avhat would have been without him 
