Feb. 6, 1904.] 
107 
Night Hawfc Shooting in the South. 
AsHEViLLE, N. C, Jan. 22. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
In your issue of Jan. 23 our old friend Charles Hallock, 
in "Notes on the Night Hawk," mentions that in both 
Virginia and North Carolina the birds (night hawks) 
are shot at for practice, and are eaten in large quantities 
I as game. 
Such has been the case in North Carolina up till this 
I past year, but our Audubon Society have entirely stopped 
I the practice. "Bull bats" are protected now in North 
; Carolina by a stringent law. 
We well remember the slaughter of these birds the year 
j Mr. Hallock visited us at Asheville (not that he partici- 
jpated, though). The tourists and visitors joined in with 
the resident and many birds were annually killed. 
As president of the local branch of the Audubon So- 
ciety of North Carolina, I did not hear of a single bull 
bat being killed last fall in Buncombe county. 
We did not have near so many bull bats flying last Sep- 
tember as is usually the case ; certainly not over one- 
fourth as many as usual. I have no explanation to offer, 
ibut everybody noticed how scarce the bull bats were. 
C. P. Ambler. 
Ski Rttnningf. 
Amherst, Mass., Jan. 30. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
The present winter, with its snow-fall lying long on the 
j ground without thaw, has given many of us an oppor- 
' tunity to practice on snowshoes, such as we have not had 
in a long time. 
In past years I have been much interested by accounts 
given in Forest and Stream of the use of the Nor- 
ijwegian skis in the West, and have often wondered why 
they were not more used in the East, where the Indian 
snowshoes seem to have been the sole means used to 
support the traveler over deep snows. Can you tell me 
where skis may be purchased, and whether there are any 
works on their use which might make it easier for a 
novice to learn how to run on them? A. B. 
[As our correspondent says, skis are very little used in 
the East, if at all, the obvious reason being the lack of 
snow in most parts of the United States. We presume 
these shoes may be had of sporting goods dealers, and 
believe that we have seen them in the shop of dealers 
here in New York. An excellent little manual of Ski_ Run- 
ning is for sale by the Forest and Stream Publishing 
Company, price $1.25.] 
A Bad Yeaf for England. 
Brentwood, Essex, Eng., Jan. 5. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: Your Christmas number was very good indeed. 
The wild turkey picture was magnificent. 
The season of 1903 was very bad for game birds. 
Nearly all over England we had a very unusually wet 
summer which drowned nearly all the young birds at 
hatching time. Both partridges and pheasants suffered 
alike. I have been a game keeper for forty years, and 
I have never experienced a worse year, both for wild and 
hand reared birds. H. Hickmott. 
Redhead Docks on Long Island Sound. 
MiLFORD, Conn., Jan. 19. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
I have received two fine redhead ducks (Aythyra ameri- 
cana) killed in the Sound off Charles Island. Both were 
males, and delicious eating. Is this unusual? 
Morton Grinnell. 
[Quite unusual, we think. Although the redhead is 
often very abundant on the south shore of Long Island, 
it is very seldom reported from Long Island Sound.] 
Megantic Clwb. 
The annual banquet of the Megantic Club was held at 
Delmonico's, New York, Saturday evening, January 30, 
some 200 members and guests being present. President 
Jeremiah Richardson was toastmaster. Among the 
speakers were Gov. Chamberlin, of Connecticut; Hamlin 
Garland, William H. McElroy, and Job E. Hedges. 
The New York Legislature. 
Albany, N. Y., Feb. 1.— Fewer game bills than ordinarily have 
been introduced thus far in the Legislature. As yet, neither the 
Senate nor the Assembly Committee on Fish and Game has held 
any meetings, except to effect an organization. Bills lately pre- 
sented in the two houses are the following: 
Assemblyman Hubbs', amending Section 103 so as to provide 
that the close season on Long Island for ducks, geese, brant and 
swan shall be from Amjl 15 to Oct. 15, both inclusive, instead of 
frorn Jan. 1 to Sept, 30, both inclusive. They shall not be pos- 
sessed from March 1 to Oct. 15, both inclusive, instead of to 
Sept. 30. 
Assemblyman Dickinson has introduced a bill amending the 
following sections of the game law so as to make them apply to 
Cortland county: SeQtion 13, providing that the close season for 
hares and rabbits shall be from Dec. 1 to Sept. 15, bith inclusive; 
Section 15, providing that the close season for mink, skunk, musk- 
rat and foxes shall be from May 1 to Oct. 81, both inclusive; 
Section 41, providing that the close season for trout shall be from 
July 16 to April 15, both inchisive. 
Senator Bailey and Assemblyman Reeve have introduced in their 
respective houses of the Legislature a bill amending Section 103 
of the game laws in relation to wildfowl on Long Island so as to 
provide that wildfowl shall not be taken from March 1 to Sept. 
30, both inclusive, inste%.d of from Jan. 1 to Sept. 30, both in- 
clusive, as at present. 
Assemblyman Reeve has introduced a bill amending Section 103 
of the game laws so as to provide that brant shall not be taken 
on Long Island from April 15 to October 15, botl inclusive, instead 
of from Jan. 1 to Sept. 30, as at present, or possessed from March 
1 to October 15, both inclusive, instead of to Sept. 30, as at present. 
The law now prohibits taking or possession of brant from May 1 
to Sept. 30, or taking them in the night between sunset and day- 
light. 
Assemblyman Leggett has introduced a bill amending Section 73 
of the game laws so as to provide that fish may be taken with nets 
in Lake Ontario in Niagara county, except within one-quarter of a 
mile of the shore, one mile from the mouth of the Niagara River 
and one-half mf^ from any Government pier in that county. The 
taking of black bass with nets in Niagara county is also pro- 
hibited by the act. 
Assemblyman John F. Crosby has introduced a bill amending 
Section 80a of the game laws so as to allow fishing in that part of 
Cayuga Lake lying north of Canoga Point, and of the New York 
Central and Hudson River Railroad bridge across the lake, from 
Oct. 1 to April 30, both inclusive, instead of from March 31, as dt 
present. ^ In that part of the lake south of these points, and north 
of the line between Tompkins and Seneca counties, it shall be 
lawful to take fish from May 15 to July 15, both inclusive, with 
spear, except black bass, and also to take fish, except black bass, 
with gill nets. ' 
AND MVK reniN 
Meditations of an Angler. 
I.— Memories. 
Now that the world is frozen up tight and fast, with 
the mercury hovering around the zero mark, nothing re - 
'mains for the disconsolate angler save a quiet corner be- 
1 side the fire with his pipe — and perchance a few other 
comforting accessories — and one or two congenial souls, 
or, in lieu of the latter, simply the memories of those 
joyous days — departed all too soon — when the fields and 
I the woods were green, and the waters in the brooks sang 
' their pleasant melodies the whole day through. Your 
rods are packed away in their cases; your tackle box, 
with its reel and lines and flies and things, is thrust back 
ignominiously into the darkest corner of the closet shelf; 
your fishing togs are stowed away in some old chest in 
' the attic ; everything, in fact, that was part and parcel 
of yourself in those balmy days of last summer, when 
you went a-fishing, has been sent into winter quarters, 
■ there to abide neglected, though not forgotten, until the 
: first warm day of early spring again stirs the old-time 
: fever in your veins. 
The memories of so many delightful excursions to 
Elysian haunts, while indulging in my favorite pastime, 
crowd in upon me in such riotous confusion that they 
. tumble over one another, as it were, in their desire to 
find expression. As they come to mind, so shall they be 
recorded ; and even as the "softly purling brook glides on 
through silent vales," following untrammeled ways, so 
shall , I ramble at will among the scenes and happenings 
! pictured by these fond memories, as the winds and the 
' waves and the fishes dictate. 
Nothing but inemories, 'tis true, and mayhap the 
' wordly minded and those outside the pale of our brother- 
: hood will laugh me to scorn. Yes, nothing but memories ; 
but ah ! what a host of them there are — a host of jolly 
troopers ; not one of them that you would banish if you 
could, not one that could be bought with all the gold 
of Midas, for these be treasures that wealth cannot 
procure. 
The pleasures that money alone buys and sells must of 
necessity be of some tangible form, and the memories 
begotten of these pleasures — these tactile, frothy sweets 
of life — are seldom welcome companions, and never less 
; welcome than at a lonely fireside when the winter winds 
are howling wild outside and moaning in dismal tone 
down the chimney, for in their train such memories 
always bring remembrances of something we regret, or if 
not wholly a regret yet something we hasten to forget. 
Can you recall a single day — a single hour — when you 
followed the windings of some tuneful brook, and angled 
: for the wary trout, of which you would alter one jot or 
tittle if you could? True, perchance you failed to land 
that big 3-pounder that time he rose and seized upon 
your frayed Parmachenee-belle when you cast it so lightly 
in the shadow beneath the alders at the deep bend. Male 
dictu! so did I; morewvfer, it was the last 4ay of tl?€ 
season, and there was no hope of trying him again the 
next day. 
He leaped high in the air, this lunker of mine, dis- 
playing his full length (even now I can close my eyes 
and see the gleaming sides, the deep red belly, the wide 
protruding jaw), and with a loud splash gained his free- 
dom. His broad tail waved me a scornful adieu as he 
disappeared from view beneath the black surface of the 
pool, while I stood with mouth agape gazing at noth- 
ing. 
All the sorrows, all the griefs and disappointments, all 
the woes of life were as nothing to that agonizing 
moment. "The earth was without form or void, and 
darkness was upon the face of the deep." I could have 
wept; but, man-like, I merely swore, and swashed around 
generally. ("Swashed around" in this sense is purely an 
anglecan term, meaning, "To splash water about," "To 
make a great noise;" I did both), and then the hope that 
lies in every human breast, but doubly strong in every 
angler's breast, whispered soothingly in my ear, "Cheer 
up, he'll be here when you come again, or if not he, why 
then some other lunker in his stead. Patience, my boy. 
Remember, there are just as good fish in the sea as ever 
were caught." 
So the world became the good old world once more, 
and Dame Nature smiled kindly while the brook laughed 
and gurgled noisily, and I waved my hat, in lieu of a 
tail, in the direction in which he had disappeared, and 
cried in scornful tone, "Au revoir, old top, au revoir, 
and bon voyage," which being interpreted signified, "I'll 
see you later, and I pray that you may live until you die 
by my hand." The "old top" was inserted to denote a 
friendly unconcern non-existent and wholly impossible 
under the circumstances. 
But to pick up the line where it broke when you lost 
your 3-pounder, was not this one of those defeats that 
ofttimes proves a victory? Had you landed your fish 
he would be numbered among the dead by now. He 
v»'0uld have served his allotted time, and the halo that 
now surrounds him with such ever-increasing brightness 
would have faded and grown dim. It is true that he 
would grow in weight as the years rolled by, whether 
"in corpore or in spiritu." It is in the nature of fishes 
so to do. But the fascinating element of doubt that 
makes of our piscatorial art a joy lasting and great 
would be scattered and destroyed by the cold breath of 
absolute certainty. 
In the years to come you can tell your grandson that 
you once fought for an hour with a 6-pound trout, 
and failed to land him. You can embellish this tale with 
all the glowing colors that your fancy can depict, and 
tell it without a blush, and hardly feel that you are 
trifling with the truth. Had you really landed your fish, 
and had you seen the scales register three pounds and no 
more, you might — in a rash moment — tell your grand- 
son that you once actually landed a 6-pounder, and ex- 
patiate over the feat, but you would have to smoke many 
pipefuls of your favorite brand even to make yourself 
half t)elieve yoyrself. And then wouM conife a time wh?n 
the youthful scion of your race would attain to the skep- 
tical age called "man's estate," when the bare and naked 
truth would stand forth robbed of the fanciful garb of 
your flowery imagination, and he would sigh in half ad- 
miring half regretful tones : "Grandfather was a fine old 
man, but grandfather was an awful liar," and upon your 
family escutcheon would thenceforth be emblazoned a 
bar sinister, v/ith an Ananias rampant on a field azure; 
and your posterity, even unto the third and fourlrh 
generation, would rise up and call you liar. 
No, it is just as well that you failed to land that trout. 
At the time it was a disappointment, perhaps, but there 
is no such thing as real disappointment in an angler's 
life — I mean the disappointment that leaves a sting be- 
hind to irritate the soul, and sour your disposition. 
It is the fish that one does not catch that spurs a m-in 
on, and adds zest to the sport of angling. You have 
fished streams — we all have — where every cast of the 
fly meant a strike, where the creel soon became heavy, 
and you paused half ashamed at the slaughter you had 
indulged in. 
"A fine catch," you said to yourself, as you emptied 
your basket on the bank and gloated over its contents. 
"A fine catch, but they run small; I'll^ just try to land 
two or three lunkers to top this off with." 
And then you started on down stream with an eye for 
the deep pools only, where the big trout lie. But the 
big trout— like everything else in life worth getting— 
are the hardest to get. It requires skill and a nice touch 
of the rod to lure one of those "venerable men"_ from 
his hiding place. The smaller fry are not so fastidious. 
As your numerous efforts seemed productive of naught 
but failure, the pride you felt awhile back in your heavy 
laden creel dwindled correspondingly. Anathemas and 
invectives were fa§t becoming the order of the day, 
when suddenly the mighty splash sounded, the line grew 
taut, the supple rod bent like a reed, and the critical 
moment had arrived. 
After the first electric shock, which paralyzed every 
nerve of your body for the moment, and made your heart 
jump into your throat and then descend as rapidly to the 
soles of your rubber boots, you braced yourself and pre- 
pared for the coming struggle. You would have sac- 
rificed every fish in your basket rather than lose this 
2-pounder; and when, after a battle royal, something 
all at once gave way, and you realized' that the fish was 
gone— that you had lost the fight — well, it was worth the 
struggle after all; and whenever you shall tell of that 
day's fishing, the burden oi your song will be — not the 
creel heaped to overflowing, though this will serve to 
embellish the tale— but the great fight with the "biggest 
trout you ever hooked;" and the memory of it will al- 
ways stay with you, to elieer you on your way, long after 
old age has stiffened your limbs and bound your muscles, 
when the good old fishing days are past and over, rele- 
gated to that shadowy realm of "once upon a time." 
Verily it is far better to have fought well and to have 
been vanquished by a worthy foe, than to strut about 
the f^W^ glare of njany petty vi<?tori€s, __ 
