Forest and 
A Weekly Journal of the Rod and Gun. 
Copyright, 1904, by Forest and Stream Publishing Co. 
Terms, $4 a Year. 10 Cts. a Copy. I 
Six Months, $2. j 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, AUGUST 20, 1904 
5 VOL. LXIII.-No. 8. 
I No. 346 Broadway, Nbw York. 
SCOTT'S COON AGAIN. 
Even Homer sometimes nods, and the almost in- 
variably exact New York Evening Post so far forgets 
its learning as to print, in connection with the reported 
naval demonstration by the United States against 
Turkey, the following lines : 
Some day the Osmanli coon may refuse to come down, and that 
will be an awkward pass for any Davy Crockett who then hap- 
pens to have his guns trained on Smyrna. 
Of American pseudodoxia epidemica, hardly one is 
more firmly established than the traditional belief that it 
was Davy Crockett whom the 'coon addressed when 
he saw the rifle leveled at him from the ground. Yet, 
as a matter of fact, it is perfectly well established on 
the testimony of witnesses recently living that the hero 
of that adventure, the man whose skill with the rifle was 
so generally acknowledged even by the birds and the 
beasts that it was not necessary for him to pull the trig- 
ger, was not Davy Crockett at all, but Capt. Martin Scott. 
Honor to whom honor is due. Crockett was a good 
shot, a brave man, and gave up his life in a heroic fight. 
Capt. Martin Scott was perhaps a better shot and no less 
brave, and died as heroically, but in less spectacular 
fashion, before Molino del Rey. The Americans were 
waiting for the order to charge, in an exposed position 
swept by the fire of the enemy, and the men had dug rifle 
pits, or had lain down behind other cover by which they 
were protected, but Capt. Martin Scott remained erect, 
walking up and down before his men. Several of them 
spoke to him, saying, "Lie down, Captain, lie down; 
they'll hit you." Capt. Scott turned, and looking sternly 
at the men who had addressed him, said to them: "Mar- 
tin Scott never lies down." It Was his last word. A mo- 
ment later a ball struck him, inflicting a fatal wound. 
For the sake, of history, as well as for justice to a 
brave man, the Forest and Stream has constituted itself 
the defender of the honor of Martin Scott, and it will 
continue to insist that the credit for his achievements 
shall be given to him, and not to another. 
SENATOR VEST AND THE NATIONAL PARK. 
In no one of all the editorials and obituaries written 
last week on the death of Senator Vest, did we see men- 
tion made" of one great service performed by him for the 
American people, and for which they and their descend- 
ants should always remember him. It is a bit of ancient 
history now, and largely forgotten by all except those 
who took an active part in the fight. More than twenty 
years ago strong efforts were made by a private corpora- 
tion to secure a monopoly of the Yellowstone National 
Park by obtaining from the Government contracts giv- 
ing them exclusive privileges within the Park. This 
corporation secured an agreement from the Interior De- 
partment by which six different plots in the Yellowstone 
Park, each one covering about one section of land — a 
square mile — were to be leased to it for a period of 
ten years. It was also to have a monopoly of hotel, 
stage, and telegraph rights, and there was a privilege of 
renewal of the concession at the end of the ten years. 
The rate to be paid for the concession was $2 an acre. 
When the question of this lease came before Congress, 
it was referred to a sub-committee of the Committee on 
Territories, of which Senator Vest was chairman. He in- 
vestigated the question, and in the report made on it used 
these words: "Nothing but absolute necessity, however, 
should permit the Great National Park to be used for 
money-making by private persons, and in our judgment 
no such necessity exists. The purpose to which this 
region, matchless in wonders and grandeur, was dedi- 
cated — 'a public park and a pleasure ground for the bene- 
fit and enjoyment of the people' — is worthy the highest 
patriotism and statesmanship." 
The persons interested in this lease came from many 
sections of the country and were ably represented by 
active agents in Washington. The pressure brought to 
bear on Congress was very great, and the more effect- 
ively applied, since few men knew much about conditions in 
the Yellowstone Park, or even where the Yellowstone 
Park was. But pressure and influence could not move 
Senator Vest when he knew he was right. He stood like 
a rock in Congress, resisting this pressure, making a 
noble fight in behalf of the interests of the people, and at 
last winning his battle. For years the issue seemed 
doubtful, an4 for years it was true that the §olf hope 
of those who were devoted to the interests of the Park, 
and who were fighting the battle of the public, lay in 
Senator Vest. So after years of struggle the right 
triumphed, and the contract intended to be made between 
the Interior Department and the corporation was never 
consummated. 
This long fight made evident the dangers to which the 
Park was exposed, and showed the necessity of addi- 
tional legislation. 
A bill to protect the Park was drawn by Senator Vest 
and passed by Congress, and from that time on, until the 
day of his retirement from public life, Senator Vest was 
ever a firm and watchful guardian of the Yellowstone 
GEORGE GRAHAM VEST. 
National Park, showing in this matter, as in many others, 
"the highest patriotism and statesmanship." For many 
years, from 1882 to 1894, Senator Vest remained the 
chief defender of a National possession that self-seeking 
persons in many parts of the country were trying to use 
for their own profit. 
If we were asked to mention the two men who did 
more than any other two men to save the National Park 
for the American people, we should name George G. Vest 
and Wm. Hallett Phillips, co-workers in this good cause. 
There were other men who helped them, but these two 
easily stand foremost. 
If ever there should be erected in the National Park a 
memorial to those men who served their country well in 
securing to its people this marvelous region for the pur- 
poses for which it was originally intended, there might 
well be inscribed on this monument in letters of equal 
size the names F. V. Hayden, N. P. Langford, Founders ; 
and George Graham Vest and William Hallett Phillips, 
Conservers. 
CONCERNING A HUMBLE CREATURE. 
The woodchuck seems to be hopelessly of the unfor- 
tunates of the animal kingdom which are predestined to 
lives of worry, active perils, and constant poverty. Of 
the humble of the animal world, none is more humble 
than he. Even when his life is compared with the lives 
of his most unfortunate confreres, it stands out con- 
spicuously in its wretchedness. It is broken in continuity, 
cheerless in its manner, and narrow in its scope. About 
one-half of it is lost in hibernation, which, so far as its 
activities are concerned, may be considered as the equiva- 
lent of death. The woodchuck's active life is limited to 
the time between the frosts of spring and fall, and his 
chief efforts are devoted to hiding in his burrow, or fur- 
tively, near his burrow's entrance, seeking grass where- 
with to satisfy the cravings of hunger. When the 
woodchuck eats, his perils are greatest, therefore his 
hours, or rather moments, for meals, are in the morning 
or evening when the farmer, the farmer's boy or dog, or 
both, are least likely to be prowling in his vicinity. 
At infrequent intervals the woodchuck makes timorous 
petty forays oh the farmer's beari or turnip patch in the 
early season when vegetation is most tender. He pilfers 
his little fuT without committing any wanton destruction, 
returning -then to his burrow to resume assiduously his 
interrupted hiding. 
Condemned as vermin, the sum total of his offense is 
that he digs a burrow and thereby injures about one 
square yard of stony, worthless land, feeds on a few 
other square yards of vegetation each season, and does 
some few pennyworths of damage to the farmer's beans, 
turnips, and cabbages in the early summer. 
Yet, in sportsmanship, the proscription is against him. 
He is too humble in spirit, in body, in manner of life. 
From the viewpoint of men, his place is without the 
borderland of sport, in the miscellaneous riffraff of the 
rejected classed as vermin. The hand of every man and 
boy, and the teeth of every dog, are turned against him. 
He is- of the truly hunted. For him there are no fine 
distinctions and refinements pertaining to the ethics of 
correct pursuit and capture. The manner of his passing 
away is naught. To compass his destruction, every man, 
boy and dog is a sufficient warrant unto himself. 
The farmer, actuated by wrath because of bear.s lost 
in the woodchuck's maw, and by the hope of sport in 
prospect, may legitimately flood or smoke or dig him out 
of his burrow or hiding place, after which woodchuck 
and farmer's dog battling in spectacular harmlessness, 
afford excitement and delight to the onlookers. There 
is much more din than execution in such encounter. 
As a fighter the woodchuck is the embodiment of 
masterful inactivity. His strong feature is passivity. 
He sits erect in his defense, and with his long incisors 
nips the dog sharply when he ventures within reach, 
which causes consternation and retreat on the part of 
the assailant. If overpowered and thrown, his hide and 
the thick layers under it, protect him well from the 
puerile onslaught of the ordinary farm cur. The dog, 
when fighting, is in such a frantic state of excitement, 
so overwrought with furious barkings, silly jumpings to 
and fro, all conducted in a cowardly rage, that he is 
soon blown and helpless, whereupon he is content to loll 
and tremble and threaten by looks devoid of deeds. A 
farm dog which, unaided, has whipped an old, thick- 
skinned woodchuck is a revered local celebrity among 
the boys of his neighborhood. 
Perchance the woodchuck may survive the perils of 
fire and flood, of man and boy and dog. There are other 
penis still. He has a copper wire noose, placed deftly 
at the mouth of his burrow with which to reckon. When 
he- attempts to emerge, it may encompass his neck and 
forthwith strangle him. Or it may be a device which, 
with coarse iron pins, skewers him to the earth instead 
of strangling him. . 
Having escaped these many dangers, when venturing 
abroad he is in danger from the rifleman who, with a 
.25 caliber rifle and a telescopic sight, may be calculating 
a ballistic formula of death for him some hundreds of 
yards away. 
All methods are good alike which reduce him to pos- 
session. No ethical tenets restrict the manner of his 
taking. No close seasons give him a respite from peril. 
No preserve affords him sanctuary. His preservation is 
strictly a personal problem to himself. 
For gameness, beauty of physique or edibility, he is not 
recognized. His virtues, few and humble, are all nega- 
tive. He has neither the speed nor cunning of the 
predatory fox, nor the beautiful fur of the mink. He 
compares still more unfavorably with the game birds and 
game animals as an animal of value. 
As an esculent he holds an ill defined place even in 
the opinion of easily pleased primitive people. Some 
good men have eaten woodchuck, but they partook of 
him more as a gastronomic stunt than as a delectable 
morsel craved for the palate's sake. The woodchuck, as 
an esculent, would best be classed as a filler than as a 
bonne bouche. As with the mud hen and the skunk, no 
accredited gourmet has ever raised his voice or moved 
his pen in their praise as things for the connoisseur's 
table, nor has anyone besought that the destroyer's hand 
be stayed to the end that future generations may be 
blessed, with at least one regalement on the delicate meat 
of the mud- hen and the woodchuck. 
Humble, harmless, outlawed, ill fed and worse housed, 
the woodchuck, ever facing death by fire and flood, by 
man and dog, stiH lives and multiplies, and fes hjs 
humble being, 
