184 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
[Feb. 27, 1904. 
In Old Virginia. 
XX,— Woodcock and Miscellany, 
After days of continuous hunting Roscoe became 
pretty well used up. 
His greatest difficulty appeared to be an acute attack 
of that "tired feeling," which would cause him to sit 
down every few moments. 
On the start he would seem able and enthusiastic, but 
it was run a little way, then sit down, over and over 
again until I would be torn between pity and wrath. 
He exasperated me so one morning by leaving a 
warm trail to go sit down, that I took a brush to him, 
applying it mildly. When I next saw him it was at the 
house Avhere he had gone immediately after the pun- 
ishment to nurse his ofifended dignity. 
Some neighbors, who had a bird dog, were notified 
that we needed help, and one morning a young mem- 
ber of the family came over to take a hunt with us, 
bringing the dog. 
The small boy and his companion, as usual, brought 
me the news of the third arrival. Clattering up to the 
room, where 1 was getting into my corduroys, they 
began in the regular order, the white boy first, as is 
always the case when the white boy is southern born. 
No one loves the worthy negro — of all ages and sex — 
more than the southerner, but though the devotion may 
be akin to id'olatry, the youthful southerner insists on 
being the head of the procession at all times, and under 
all circumstances. 
It was evident from their hasty approach, and ex- 
cited appearance that they believed themselves in pos- 
session of information of more than ordinary im- 
portance, and the small boy began, at once, as the 
door ffew open from their combined assault while the 
little darkey twisted his face and wrung his hands, im- 
patient to begin on the better story, which he knew he 
would tell when his turn came. 
"Oh, Papa! Dey's a man tums to da' a huntin' wiv 
you, an' he bringcd de funniest doggy I eveh did see. 
It's all white, wif little spots on it, an', Papa! it lafTs 
all de time." 
Rather a remarkable dog, I thought, as I turned to 
the other boy. 
"Hit a jimbah-jawed dawg, Suh, a pointah. Its toofs, 
dey stick out of hits mouf in front, en' dat wat make 
him say hit lafifin'." 
'Taint a jimmmy-jaw dog 'tall," was the indignant 
response, "it a spatty dog, an' it do laff all de time, 
cause I saw it myself, I did. Tum on Feddie, yes do 
see the funny dog aden." And forgiving and forget- 
ting as children should — both young and old — they 
clattered back down the stairs. On going down I 
found the visitor to be a pleasant mannered young 
fellow, whom the Esquire called "Jack," and the dog 
just about what the small boy had described. A little 
speckled pointer bitch, with the kindest of eyes, but 
a most sinisted looking mouth, caused by a protruding 
under jaw. "Jimber-jawed," his master called the pe- 
culiarity, as had the little darkey, but the expression 
was an addition to my vocabulary, as I had never 
heard the word before. 
From a front view the little dog's head looked very 
much like it might be that of a fifteen or twenty pound 
pike, but as is often the case, we found it a much better 
character than its general appearance would indicate. 
Everything being in readiness we got away at once, 
leaving our poor, old worn out dog at home to rest' 
up a bit. The first game started was a rabbit, at which 
the young man and I took a shot at the same moment. 
We laughed hilariously to see it go end over end for 
a distance of ten feet or more, like a tumbler turning 
handsprings, but when we went to retrieve it from 
the patch of weeds into which it had pitched, and could 
not so much as find a bit of fur, the hilarity subsided. 
It was quite a while before we found game again, 
but when we did, it was woodcock. The boys, with the 
dog, were in the edge of a thicket, near the branch, 
while I was keeping along parallel with them, in the 
open. The ground "had been frozen, but the sun was 
shining brightly now, melting it and making the walk- 
ing hard. The dog pointed, and my companions called 
to me, but as the cover was very thick where they 
were, and the ground soft and marshy between us, con- 
cluded not to go to them, but let them put up the game 
which I could mark down if it came my way. 
Sending the dog in, she flushed a woodcock which 
came out in the open on my side, turned and flew 
straight away along the edge of the timber and into 
the woods beyond. Protected from me by the dis- 
tance, and from my companions by the trees, it went 
away unmolested. Following on wo found it among 
the larger timber, and it flushed again just as the dog 
found its trail. It was my good fortune to be in the 
best position for a shot, which I made with promptness 
and success, as much to the delight of my companions 
as to my own. 
Continuing in the woods the little dog again found 
game signs, which her master at once pronounced an- 
other woodcock. Patiently and surely she worked out 
the trail, which led into a swampy thicket where the 
weeds and swamp grass were nearly shoulder high, and 
finally put up another bird. I was close on and had 
a fair shot, but being a bit excited, shot too quick with 
the right, making a bad miss, but gathering myself in 
time made a clean kill with the left. As I smoothed 
out the soft, brown plumage of the beautiful pair of 
birds, my sensations were the same as those which 
pei-vade the soul of the small boy when he gazes upon 
his first pair of ret-topped boots, only less intense. We 
finished out the day pleasantly, and had further suc- 
cess; but the woodcock incident was, by far, the best 
of it. , . 
One beautiful morning, the Esquire bemg prevented 
from accompanying me by some business that demanded 
his attention, I'took the dog and started off alone. Al- 
though out of condition, the dog seemed both eager 
and willing on the start, but after getting quite a dis- 
tance from the house suddenly concluded that he did 
not feel like work, and quietly sneaked back hnmp. 
iThe niaauer, more tbaa the fact, of the desertion filled 
me with wrath, lor it was not until i naa liunted ba. .s 
and forth througli the fBeanett }md ®f cover ior nearly 
half an hour, with the expectation of finding him stand- 
ing birds, that the truth finally dawned upon me. Act- 
ing wisely, I should have immediately followed suit, 
but tired, hot, and mad, I made up my mind that no 
sneaking, lazy dog should spoil my hunt, and facing 
about started in to walk up something, if it took all 
day. "To act in haste, is to repent at leisure," is one 
of- the old saws which has long needed revising. It is 
often repent in haste, too, as I did that morning 
after a few miles of about as rough walking as a man 
could imagine with a warm sun beating down, but re- 
pentance did not bring discretion, so I kept at it until 
high noon without seeing feather or fur. 
The truant dog lay stretched full length in the sun, 
and started up to welcome me on my arrival home, 
but though I said nothing, he seemed reminded of some 
important matter needing his attention under the house, 
where he hastilly retreated after one look at my re- 
proachful eye. The small boy's mother was about to 
start for a walk, but delayed to see that I was duly 
refreshed and sympathized with, after which she in- 
vited me to accompany her — and carry the gun — say- 
ing we could probably save my reputation yet. And 
within 200 yards of the house, inspired to renewed 
effort by her confidence, I jumped three rabbits, two of 
which I killed. 
"Well, they beat nothing," I said, as we started back 
to the house after our walk. "Indeed they do," was the 
cncouraging_ reply. "Why, Auntie will be delighted. She 
prefers rabbit to any game you kill, and we always laugh 
because her first question — if she does not see your re- 
turn — is, 'How many rabbits did he get?'" 
As Auntie was a bright little lady, helpful to all, and 
youthful in spite of her four score and more years, this 
information was very pleasing. Altogether, the day, 
which had begun so badly, had been saved. 
Flaving set forth freely and frankly the transgressions 
and shortcomings of Roscoe the dog, it is but just to him 
that his fine plays also be chronicled. His ability to cover 
ground and speed in the field, to which I have referred, 
was only equalled by the speed with which his master 
could slide up and down the entire scale from good to 
infamous. In one short hunt he would have you coveting 
him as you never coveted a dog; indifferent to him, and 
longing to shoot him with both barrels, large shot, close 
range. His general average was good, and he was one 
of the most beautiful and graceful dogs I ever shot over ; 
but, like good bacon, he ran in streaks, and the streaks 
were thin and close together. 
On one occasion when we had been a-field some time, 
and he had not endeared himself to me by anything like 
commendable effort, he found what appeared to be a 
Very cold trail in the edge of a strip of woods about halt 
a mile in width. Without a break he worked on that cold 
scent — which had probably been left early in the morning 
and it was now noon — following the devious windings in 
and out through the heavy timber and thick undergrowth, 
through to the other side of the wood, across a wide, 
much-traveled road, and half across a stubble field, where 
he came up with the game — a covey of birds — and this 
with a gale blowing at right angles with his general 
course. 
On another occasion, after scattering a covey, we were 
going on to other cover, when the dog, at full speed, 
stopped as though he had run against a stone wall. We 
were in the pines, and the ground was covered with 
heavy matted grass. Backing a few steps, the dog threw 
his head high in the air, turned at right angles to the 
course he had been traveling, and walked straight to a 
single bird, on a wind scent which must have been slight, 
as the bird was buried deep down in the grass and lying 
close. The distance we estimated at thirty yards. 
On yet another occasion, he performed a really remark- 
able feat, one that I had heard of dogs doing, but had 
never seen, that of standing a bird while retrieving. It 
was late one afternoon when we stumbled on a covey of 
birds in a pine thicket, which scattered down in the edge 
of the trees, some of them in what had been a road, now 
abandoned and grown over with grass and weeds. The 
first bird pointed by the dog flew straight down the road 
and was killed. As usual, the dog dashed away at the 
report, and had the bird almost before it struck the 
ground. He had gone straight down the road and put 
up another bird just before reaching the dead one. Re- 
turning, he pursued the same route, but when nearly to 
me slowed up, circled out to the edge of the road, came 
on a few steps, then went back into the road again, where 
he faced about in the direction he had come, and pointed 
a bird, still holding the dead bird in his mouth. Had he 
been my dog I would have assaulted the man who dared 
to ask the price at which I'd sell that dog. 
llie last bit of sport impressed upon my mind was that 
enjoyed in the snow. Six or eight inches of "the beauti- 
ful" had fallen over night, and the sun coming out in the 
morning made the world a thing of beauty. No one 
knows the possibility of snow as a beautifief . unless he 
has seen it "far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife." 
Here, without spot or blemish, it lies spread_ over the 
land, covering unsightly bare places, rounding sharp 
angles, transforming blackened stumps into marble pillars 
—a mantle of pure charity. 
The few denizens of field and forest who venture forth 
add interest without marring beauty by the quaint signs 
they leave to tell of their passing. We were more inter- 
ested in the numerous signs of the little folk than any- 
thing else, and it was while engaged in trying to find 
out where the tracks of a rabbit led to that we ran into a 
covey of birds. They were in a sunny spot, apparently 
feeding, and scattered on the flush. Paying careful atten- 
tion to a p,air getting up together near-by, I dropped one 
straight away, and the other up over my left shoulder_ as 
it rose to clear the edge of a near-by thicket. Following 
the survivors the dog found a single, which flew so 
straight away the shot was almost like that at a stationary 
target, but as easy shots were not my forte, I missed 
with both barrels. The next bird proved to be one of my 
favorites, going to the left, and was killed. Two more 
v/ere all we could find, one of which flushed wild and was 
killed by the best shot of the day, and the other requiring 
two shots, both well placed, before stopping. But the real 
fun of the trip was afforded by a rabbit jumped on a 
steep hillside. The course it saw fit to pursue took it 
around my companion— the Esquire — and he concluded 
to do a little shooting. Swinging the big single barrel 
down from_ his shoulder, he took deliberate aim, but 
holding a little low, only succeeded in throwing about a 
bushel of snow on the rabbit,^ which ran on, giving me 
two long shots, neither of which took effect. It then 
turned back and ran straight for my companion again, 
v/ho_ had made no move to reload his gun. He seldom 
carried more than two or three shells, and now could not 
remember the pocket they were in. As the rabbit boi'^ 
down on him he jerked open his coat and searched pocket 
after pocket, slapping himself like a man fighting bees, 
and, failing , to find a cartridge, when the rabbit was al- 
most upon him, clubbed the gun and tried to land a 
blow as it sped by, but without success. That rabbit did 
not come back. 
It was like breaking home ties when the time of de- 
parture rolled around. There was so much to leave, 
aside from the loved ones, and so much to carry, beside 
what we brought. When every trunk and bag was filled 
to overflowing, the small boy arrived with his load of 
invaluables, which just had to go. Some half dozen guns 
of his own_ manufacture, a small ladder, a bundle of fish- 
poles, an iron wagon tire, a dozen oranges from the 
osage hedge, a live terrapin, an iron plow point, and some 
dozen or so other articles equal in value and utility, com- 
posed his contribution. 
On leaving home a walk of two or three blocks was 
an effort, and now, as I swung along, walking from 
preference the three miles to the station, I felt that ten 
miles would only sutifice to take the edge off of my keen de- 
sire to be out and going. Only two hours had elapsed 
since breakfast, and yet I was beginning to feel very 
solicitous regarding the lunch basket containing our din- 
ner, and to speculate on the probability of plenty of time 
at Danville for supper. All of which goes to prove that 
my fondness for Old Virginia is not based wholly on 
sentiment. Lewis Hopkins. 
Ski Running. 
An endeavor to trace the origin of the ski carries one 
back into the realm of Scandinavian Mythology, where 
we find the goddess, Skade, as the especial protectress 
of the votives . of ski running. And when one has 
arrived at this point, he is no nearer the origin of the 
ski than at the start. It is lost in the depths of the 
ages. As far as the history or legend of northern 
Europe goes, the ski can be found playing a prominent 
part in it. Tlie old Norse Vikings, who are chiefly 
known to posterity for their deeds on water, were quite 
as much at home on skis as in their famous drage 
skibe. 
While the ski usually carries, to the American mind, 
thoughts of Norway, it is also a national institution 
of Sweden and Finland. Wherever, in northern 
Europe, the snow falls in quantities sufficient to render 
ordinary modes of travel difficult, there will the ski 
be found. 
The topographical features of the different sections 
have resulted in several types of skis, developed from 
time to time as the nature of the country demanded, 
and as man's ingenuity suggested, until to-day we 
have several standards, ranging from the long, narrow 
ski of Finland, where the country is comparatively flat, 
to the broad, short ski of Norway, better adapted to 
the mountainous, wooded country that is character- 
istic of the western part of the Scandinavian penin- 
sula. This latter type is the one best suited to the 
long jumping for which the Norwegians are deservedly 
noted, and is the one copied by the countries of Europe 
lying outside of the ski's true home. 
The greater part of Norway, outside of the vicinity 
of the cities and towns, is quite thinly populated, ex- 
tremely mountainous, thickly wooded and subject to 
very heavy snowfalls. The highways, although ex- 
ceptionally good, can be kept open during the winter 
only by unceasing effort; and this on the main lines 
only. There are numbers of people living from a icw 
to many miles from these main routes that are cut 
off from the rest of the world by sriow-covered roads 
nearly one-half the year; and to these people ski;; are 
an absolute necessity. 
Men, women and children use them to travel over 
miles of trackless, snow-covered land. The ];■ borer 
uses them to and from his daily work; living, some- 
times, as much as five or ten miles away. The children 
use them to and from school, the mail carrier on his 
daily round, the hunter on his outing trips; in short, 
they are used by everyone for every conceiva^ !e kind 
of a journey. Up to a few years ago, in fa: t, until 
the open season for hunting big game and :he ski 
running season no longer coincided, the hunter not 
only made his way to the hunting district on .-kis, br.t 
used them to run big, fast game; and to this day the- 
Lap's favorite method of hunting the wolf is to run 
him down on skis and kill him in a hand to Iiand 
conflict. 
The training and experience acquired by the u?e of 
skis from childhood necessarily makes the adiilt an 
adept to them, and feats are performed every day that 
appear marvelous to an American, yet occasion no 
astonishment in a country where experts are common. 
The covering, in rough country, uphill and downhill, 
through thick timber and over deep snow drifts, of 
forty or fifty miles in one day's travel is by no mean^ 
an unfrequent occurrence; and the writer knows of one 
old gentleman, something over eighty years of age, 
that can put thirty miles behind him between morning 
and night. 
It was natural that, in time, rivalry should grow up 
between especially expert .ski runners in the same 
neighborhood, out of which grew the custom of friend- 
ly competition on Sunday afternoons, on some con- 
venient hillside, where the contestants met and settled 
their respective merits, while the neighboring com- 
munity assembled, in small enthusiastic and partisan 
crowds ready to cheer their several champions, and to 
"root" for them much as we do in this later day. 
From being a necessity to the rural population, ski 
running was gradually taken up by the youth of the 
towns and cities and, thus, another element of rivalry 
was introduced, town against country; and the urban 
bnv has time and again proven himself tlie equal or 
superior of his country-bred cousin. As a sport, ski 
