bet. ib, igoi.] 
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— • — 
All communications intended for FoiiiT AMD Stkcau should 
always be addressed to the Forest and Slreata Publishing Co., 
New York, and not to any individual connected with the paper. 
\ The Game Laws in Brief 
\. 
is the standard authority of fish and game laws of the United 
States and Canada. It tells everything and gives it correctly. 
See in advertising p3gcs list of some of the dealers who handle 
the Brief. 
Sport on Long Island. 
Long Island is not an exactly ideal spot, looking at 
it from the sportsman's standpoint, not the happy hunt- 
ing ground pictured in the Indian's dream, but still 
the game life of the island is not by any means extinct; 
and from its close proximity to New York, the island 
each year furnishes enjoyment to thousands of men 
who love both gun and rod, but who cannot spare but 
a few days, or perhaps' hours, from their business. 
The island is about 125 miles long by twenty in 
width, the northern side hilly and heavily timbered, 
while the southern shores are low and indented with 
numerous bays and creeks. The center of the island is 
the most unattractive portion of it. Nothing but level 
plains intersected by occasional roads and covered with 
yellow grass and scrub oaks, hardly ever more than 
knee-high, the monotony of the landscape being broken 
by lonelj' pine trees, seared by the fierce fires that 
sweep acros these plains every fall and spring, giving 
the vegetation a sooty, burnt-up appearance which 
serves to intensify the dreariness of the scene. 
The main line of the Long Island Railroad runs 
across these plains, and the farmer, speedily taking ad- 
vantage of this method of quick transportation, has 
reared his homestead and successfully struggled with 
Mother Earth in his fight for existence, and now the 
farms stretch in a nearly unbroken line on each side 
of the railroad, from one end of the island to the other. 
Quail, ruffed grouse and woodcock are found on 
Long Island. In the course of a season's himting the 
sportsman may find one or possibly a pair of pheas- 
ants that have escaped from the pen of some club or 
private person. 
Although there are more or less quail on both the 
northern and southern shores, the principal hunting 
grounds lie in the center of the island in the farming 
belt. Owing to the absence of thick, heavily timbered 
woods about these farms, quail shooting, so far as 
being able to see the bird is concerned, is an easy 
matter, but while there is nothing to obstruct the 
vision, there is a tangled mass of briers and short 
scrub oaks which make walking an arduous task and 
seriously interfere with your dogs' hunting abilities. 
For hunting game birds in this section, the setter far 
excels the short-coated, tender-skinned pointer, who, 
although willing and probably able to hunt for a day 
or two, soon becomes so cut up by the cat-briers and 
burnt scrub oaks with their fire sharpened branches 
that it is rank cruelty to hunt him, while his long- 
haired relative enjoys greater immunity from similar 
causes. 
Among the hills of the north side and in the thick 
swamps and cedar thickets along the southern shore, 
there still live a few ruffed grouse, more commonly 
known as partridge. Of late years the grouse has 
rapidly decreased in numbers. It is found in the great- 
est numbers in the vicinity of Brookhaven, but a few 
are scattered over nearly all the island, and there is 
hardly a local hunter who cannot account for one or 
two of them when summing up the results of his fall 
shooting. 
While the sportsman is strolling through the fields 
in the summer or early fall, accompanied by the pup 
who is to make his debut on the first day of the open 
season, he may flush an occasional woodcock, but this 
long-billed wanderer is not found in large enough 
numbers to warrant hunting him. It is only by lying 
at dusk near some little pond or water hole in the 
hills that one may see sufficient birds to enable him 
to make a decent bag. This is hardly a sportsman- 
like way of shooting them, however, and is left to the 
farmer's boy, who, after the chores are finished, takes 
his single-barrel of ancient make and patiently waits 
by the edge of the pond, in the shadow of the sur- 
rounding vegetation, until he sees the luckless bird, 
eager to quench its thirst, alight, then remorselessly 
pots it. 
The meadows, which He all along the southern 
shores of Long Island, also furnish their fair quota of 
sport. Yellowlegs, kriekers, golden plover and that 
little grayish-brown fellow, the English snipe, whose 
erratic flight has caused many an ounce of number 
eights to be wasted, frequent these marshy grounds. 
To the south of the village of Freeport, one of the 
largest suinmer resorts of the island, lies a noted snipe 
meadow, and during the summer months the incessant 
popping of guns proclaims the presence of many gun- 
ners. Rail and meadow hens also live in the long grass 
along the banks of the meadow creeks, but these birds 
do not attract as much attention from the sportsman 
as do the swifter-flying, and consequently more prized, 
snipe. 
The islands near the beach, in the Great South Bay, 
particularly Oak Island and the Fire Islands, furnish 
some of the best snipe shooting obtained on the whole 
south side. Not so easy of access as are the meadows 
of the main land, the snipe are not disturbed by con- 
tinuous shooting, and are, therefore, more plentiful 
and stool much more readily. 
If one, however, wishes to kill the larger varieties 
of snipe, the willet, jack, marlin or black-breasted 
plover, the narrow strip of sand separating bay and 
ocean is the spot upon which to set out your stool. 
Find one of the many shallow ponds that abound on 
the beach, in which the water, during the last of the 
ebb tide, is only one or two inches deep, build your 
blind, stick your decoys up in the water^ in the most 
natural manner, and, especially if all this is accom- 
plished when a blustering sou-wester is blowing, ac- 
FOftESt AND STREAM. 
co;tipanied by a little rain, in all probability your gun 
will not lie idle by your side. 
The sand bars lying north of the Shinnecock Life 
Saving Station, in Shinnecock Bay, form another well- 
known resort for the snipe shooter. Sedge grass 
grows on the bars in many places, and in this the 
sportsman either builds his blind, or if the depth of 
the water will permit, pulls his sha rpie, the tall grass 
making an excellent cover. Over these bars fly nearly 
all the varieties of snipe; and famous bags have been 
made there in past years by men prominent in the 
highest political and social circles. 
The one sport for which Long Island is particularly 
adapted is duck shooting. From Coney Island to Mon- 
tauk Point stretches a continuous chain of bays, four 
in number, all connected by canals, and each one con- 
taining excellent feeding grounds for wild fowl. Of 
these four, the Great South Bay is the largest and Pe- 
conic Bay the deepest, but the two on which most of 
the duck shooting is done are the Shinnecock and 
Great South bays. On both the same devices are 
used; when the bay is open the battery, or, as it is 
locally known, the machine, is anchored on a flat, from 
one to three hundred stool thrown in the water around 
it, and the gunner lying comfortably in the coffin- 
shaped box in the midst of this delusive gathering of 
decoys deals death and destruction to the unwary wild 
fowl that comes within shooting distance. The battery 
is a bo.\ built of some light wood, preferably white 
pine, about six feet long, sixteen inches deep, and if 
for two men, forty inches wide. This is known as a 
double battery, the single one being only twenty inches 
wide. These wings, as they are called, are made, ex- 
tending from two to three feet on all sides of the box. 
The purpose of these is to make the box float steadily 
and prevent water from splashing in upon the occu- 
pant. A head fender, made of canvas tacked to nar- 
row strips of wood and generally from fifteen to twenty 
feet in dimension, is always anchored just to wind- 
ward of the battery, and enables the gunner to lie in ' 
much rougher water than would otherwise be possible, 
as it keeps the waves from breaking over the machine. 
This, together with from one to three hundred stool, 
forms a rig, as the bay gunners call it, and is all car- 
ried in the stool boat, generally a large sharpie, which 
is towed by the sail boat on which the gunner sleeps 
and lives. 
When the bays are covered with ice the scooter takes 
the place of battery and stool boat, and also carries 
the sportsman to the air hole in which he does his 
shooting. This little boat is about sixteen feet long 
by four in width, and is shaped on top somewhat 
similar to a turtle, hence the derivation of its name — 
turtle-back, scooter. These boats all have brass run- 
ners on their bottom, and are supplied with an ice 
hook, lateen sail, oars and sixteen decoys, generally 
hollow, for lightness is an important feature in the , 
scooter construction. In this boat the sportsman is 
able either to sail or row over ice and water; and when 
the ice is so thin that the scooter's runners cut through, 
the ice hook is used, pulling or pushing, as the case 
may be, but the craft is always able to go where noth- 
ing but a similar boat could follow. 
Point shooting is but little indulged in on the island, 
unless it be on the north side, where the coots that 
live in the Sound all winter, are sometimes killed when 
flying past or over one of the numerous points. This 
style of shooting is principally done by residents of 
Nortliport, who stand on the narrow neck of land sepa- 
rating Northport harbor from the Sound, and those 
of East Marion, who shoot off Rocky Point, just to 
the west of the life saving station of that name. 
Shinnecock Bay sportsmen have a few days of goose 
shooting each fall and spring. The wary birds are shot 
from boxes sunk into the sand bars, which make the 
southern part of the bay unnavigable, unless in a 
small boat. Generally live decoys are used, and the 
method of inducing the geese to come to them is rather 
unique as well as exceedingly interesting to watch. For 
this sport two, or still better, three men work together. 
The ones who are to do the shooting are left on a bar 
near, but not too near — for geese are the wisest bird 
that flies, and could never be driven to a spot where 
they have seen men but a short time before — the flock 
of geese that they have designs upon and proceed to 
stake out the live decoys, arrange the fox grass about 
the boxes and in every way endeavor to make the spot 
look as natural as possible. In the meantime the man 
in the boat — a small sailing skiff is used for this busi- 
ness — has been sailing off in the direction of the par- 
ticular flock that has attracted the gunners' attention, 
trying to get them between him and the bar on which 
his companions are rigged ou. When this is accom- 
plished he sails down on the geese, and they, of course, 
swim away from him. He then draws off until they 
have recovered from their alarm., then closes up on 
them again. This maneuver is repeated time after time 
until finally the geese, who have been swimming to- 
ward the bar, see some of their own kind near and 
confidently hasten toward what are really the live de- 
coys of the gunner. Though this driving geese, as it 
is called, may seem to be a comparatively easy opera- 
tion, not many men are capable of doing it. Patience,' 
perseverance and the ability to correctly estimate dis- 
tance, as well as to know when to hurry the geese or 
when to wait until they have entirely recovered from 
the scare occasioned by the close proximity of the 
boat, are all required, and many a man has found that 
driving geese is not the easy task that it seems to be 
to the onlooker. 
The majority of ducks shot are broadbill, but black 
duck, redhead, canvasback, sprig-tail, brant, old-squaw, 
coots and whistlers are all killed in greater or less 
numbers by the gunners of the island. The last named 
bird is seen only when the bays are frozen over, and 
then many of them are shot from the scooter. 
The four-footed game of Long Island is limited to 
the smaller varieties of fur-bearing animals, with tlie 
one exception of deer. Rabbits, squirrels and fox 
constitute about all the other species that are hunted, 
although a few opossum, 'coons, mink and muskrats 
are trapped or shot. 
The deer shooting is confiiied to Islip township, the 
swamp owned by the Southside Sportsman's CIuId be- 
ing the home of most of these animals. This swamp 
is watched by the gamekeepers of the club, and, owing 
to the protection thus pfovided, the deer have increased 
in the last few years. Indeed, many of the farmers 
complain each summer of the ruin wrought to their 
gardens by deer, which have grown so accustomed to 
the sight of man that only vigorous measures are of 
use to drive them from the irate owner's vegetables. 
The method of shooting these, you could hardly call 
them wild, deer, on the days provided for in the game 
laws; to wit, the first two Wednesdays and the first 
two Fridays after the first Tuesday in November, is 
not in a strict sense of the term sportsmanlike. If 
you should happen to live in any one of the different 
villages adjacent to the shooting grounds— Babylon, 
Bay Shore, Islip, Bayport, Sayville or Central Islip, 
you would probably be awakened near midnight by the 
baymg of hounds, rattling of wagons, and the horns 
and voices of crowds of men and boys who have 
started at this early hour to reach the selected spot on 
the fire line, surrounding the Southside Club's pre- 
set^ves, before dawn. These gangs, each comprised of 
from ten to twenty men, on their arrival at the chosen 
place, wait until it is light enough to distinguish any 
object fairly well; and then spread out along the cleared 
strip, known as the fire line, about seventy feet apart. 
Then two, or possibly three, of the party, mount their 
horses, and taking the hounds with them, ride off into 
the scrub oaks, shouting and making all possible man- 
ner of noise in the endeavor to jump a deer. When 
this is accomplished both dogs and horsemen give 
chase, the men with the object of claiming the deer if 
shot by other than one of their own party. The deer 
always make for the club swamp, and though they may 
succeed in distancing dogs and huntsmen, sonic one of 
the men on the fire line, by this time stationed from 
oiie railroad track to the other, a distance of three 
miles, either kills or wounds the unfortunate animal 
so severely that Hs capture is certain. Once in a 
while an old deer, wise from the experience of many 
reasons, skulks across the fire line, and these fortunate 
mes remain cv. the club grounds until the absence of 
log and mt:. proclaims peace to the hunted. 
Shotgur.s loaded with buckshot, are used in this kind 
of shouting, rifles being tabooed, as their range is 
dangerous to the thousands of men scattered through 
the woods. This style of sport, while not lacking a 
certain degree of excitement, is rather suggestive of 
butchery, and has called forth many expressions of dis- 
gust from those who believe in giving the deer a belter 
show for their lives. 
In the winter, when the snow covers the ground to 
a depth of three or four inches, fox hunting ib in- 
dulged in, and many an exciting run is enjoyed. The 
Meadow Brook Hunt Club has made Long Island fa- 
mous for this class of field sport, but not a few of the 
farmers protest agains tthe methods of this celebrated 
clique. The foxes run by the club members are not 
always natives of the island, so the farmer claims, and 
a goodly proportion of these imported foxes escape, to 
roam at large, increasing the supply of these devasta- 
tors of chicken coop and duck pen, and causing an 
additional trouble and expense to the man who already 
has had his spring wheat trampled down and fences 
broken by the hunters. 
Rabbits are plentiful in all parts of the island; but 
squirrels, though shot occasionally on the south side, 
are more abundantly foiuid in the big timber that 
covers the hills of the northern portion. 
If, in this description of the sports of Long Island, 
the fishing were not mentioned, all lovers of the rod 
would have just cause for saying that one of the great- 
est attractions had been woefully neglected. The 
trout that inhabit nearly every brook and pond on the 
island are every whit as gamy as those of the famous 
lakes of Maine, and though not found in such gener- 
ous quantities, furnish many an hour's pleasure to per- 
sons whose pocket book is not of the plethoric di- 
mensions required for a trip to more distant fishing 
grounds. 
The sport, however, from an angler's standpoint, 
that yields the most enjoyment and annually draws 
thousands to this little isle, is bay fishing. Every day 
in the summer the channel, from Fire Island Inlet to 
the spot known as the head of the channel, where the 
shoal water of the Great South Bay commences, is 
covered with sailing craft, generally hired for the day, 
but many flying the private ensigns of their owners, 
and all having on board a merry party energetically 
striving to fill the fish boxes to the brim. The same 
conditions prevail on Jamaica and Peconic bays, and 
many a dollar finds its way into the pocket of the 
bayman from renting boats and supplying bait. 
The gamy bluefish is caught in, perhaps, larger num- 
bers than any of the other inhabitants of bay or ocean, 
by trolling, or that more killing but rather nauseating 
method, especially on a hot day, known as chumming. 
Weakfish, flounders, sea bass, porgies, blackfish, Span- 
ish mackerel and other species are found. 
Brief mention has been made of the Southside 
Sportsman's Club, which, though not the only club 
of its kind on the island, is one of the oldest and 
largest. It is near Oakdale. Founded in 1866, it has 
grown into a large organization representing many 
millions of dollars; and it owns or controls thousands 
of acres through which flow numerous brooks, and 
both land and water are abundantly stocked with game 
and fish. 
The Wyandauch Club is a similar institution, with 
considerable land in the vicinity of Smithtown. Some 
of the finest quail shooting on the island is enjoyed on 
the preserves of this club, which turns out hundreds 
of quail each year, and not only rigorously protects 
them, but takes excellent care that they shall not want 
for food during the severe winters. 
The Westminster Kennel Club is at Babylon. 
These are three of the most prominent sportsman's 
clubs on Long Island, but there are numerous others 
as well as many private preserves, among which may 
be mentioned those of W. K. 'Vanderbilt and W. Bay- 
ard Cutting. F. Arthur Partridge, 
All communications intended for Forest .*nd Stream should 
always be addressed to the Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 
New York, and not to any individual connected with the paper, 
