Sept. 3, 1904.] 
FOREST AN£> STREAM. 
197 
fury in the wilds of Cherry county. 
On Sunday morning the storm was over, and the 
weather beautiful, and we concluded to shoot a few more 
grouse. The law allowed me to bring home fifty, and I 
only had forty-six. The 'Squire and I went off by our- 
selves, leaving instructions for Will to follow shortly 
with the team. Sam was left at home, as we did not want 
to exterminate the grouse. We walked about a mile to 
the top of a sand ridge south of. the house, and soon 
found a large patch of wild rose bushes full of red berries. 
The 'Squire explained that these red berries constituted 
the food of the grouse during the winter months. The 
bushes stood from six inches to a foot in height, and were 
all loaded; it was seldom that they were entirely covered 
with snow, and the grouse killed in the winter months 
were always fat and delicious eating. 
While we had been talking, the dog had pointed, and 
getting tired of waiting for us, had lain down, but as we 
moved up he got up and resumed his point. We moved 
up until we found good footing, and then told the dog to 
put them up. We did not move over two hundred feet 
from where we began to shoot until we realized that we 
had all the grouse that we could take care of. When 
Will came up with the wagon, we loaded up our game and 
drove to the house. When the game was all counted, we 
had eighty-three grouse that belonged to me, and I was 
in shape to help the boys out, in case they did not have 
the fifty birds apiece allowed by law. 
We had grouse baked with dressing (stuffing we called 
it when I was a boy) for dinner, and at the request of the 
'Squire, Mrs. Stilson had baked a rollie-pollie for me. 
It was something like an apple dumpling, baked instead of 
boiled, and made in a long roll, and as a compliment to 
Mrs. Stilson I ate so much of it that I had to lay up for 
the rest of the day. I think eating has become a habit 
with me; I began it very early in life, and often, when a 
boy, mother would tell us that the one who could eat the 
most mush and milk should have a piece of pie ; I always 
ate so much mush and milk that I did not want any pie. 
Monday morning came all too soon, and my visit was 
at an end. The team and driver, with Lake and Tom, 
appeared about nine o'clock on their way home, and 
stopped for me. They had just forty-nine grouse and one 
duck packed in a telescope, so I presented them with 
thirty-three grouse. My own grouse were packed for me 
by the 'Squire, who was an expert, fifty grouse in one 
large telescope, and it made a load. 
When we were about ready to start, I took the 'Squire 
into' the stable and told him that I felt as though I should 
offer to remunerate him for all his kindness and assist- 
ance to me ; that I had had the services of himself and his 
sons and his horses and his dogs for three days, and that 
Mrs. Stilson had dene nothing but cook for me, and that 
1 had been entertained most royally, and that I would like 
to do the right thing, etc. But the 'Squire let me talk 
until he found what I was driving at, then he said: "Now 
please don't spoil our visit by offering to pay. If you will 
give me your promise to come again, and keep it, I shall 
consider myself well repaid. You will always find a wel- 
come in my house." 
So bidding my friends good-by, and with a promise to 
see them all again, I joined the boys, and we were on our 
road again for home. It was a long and tiresome drive to 
Mullen, where we arrived at ten o'clock that night, having 
been compelled to telephone from the 101 ranch to a livery 
stable in Mullen for a team to meet us on the road, our 
horses having given out. We killed enough grouse on 
the long drive to give each one of us his fifty birds. 
We took the train at seven in the morning, and arrived 
at home at eight the same night. The next morning our 
surrey was hitched up, and forty of those grouse were 
distributed among my friends who never have the chance 
to hunt for themselves, and ten were kept at home. One 
lady to whom I gave a couple of grouse kept them until 
the following Sunday, when her husband came home to 
help eat them, and they were still as good, if not better, 
than when taken from the muzzle of the gun. 
As soon as I could arrange it, I sent a box of loaded 
shells to my friend Stilson, but I find I cannot get even, 
for on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving Day I received 
from Cherry county an express box of good things in re- 
turn for the loaded shells. For the first ten days of next 
October my address will be Pullman, Cherry county, 
Nebraska, in care of S. E. Stilson, Esq. 
A. D. McCandless. 
Bullet Molds. 
Brewer, Me. — As Cabia Blanco speaks of bullet molds 
being seldom seen now, I thought that some of those who 
have never seen them might be interested to know some- 
thing about them. They open sidewise like a pair of 
pliers, each part making half of the bullet. They usually 
had a sharp cutting edge just below where they joined. 
After the bullet was run it was placed with the nib be- 
tween these sharp edges, and pressing on the handles cut 
it off smoothly. This part was then made round by 
scraping with a knife. In loading, care was always taken 
to place this part down. Usually gunsmiths bought bullet 
molds in what were called blanks ; that is, they were 
nearly solid, and were fitted to the size wished by being 
reamed out with what was called a cherry. It was cus- 
tomary to smoke new molds with birch bark to make the 
bullets smooth, as those first run were apt to have fine 
creases round them, till the molds had been smoothed by 
use. Some molds were made to run three at a time. 
Common molds cost fifty cents a pair. 
After conical bullets began to be used,, molds were 
made of brass which opened like scissors ; the lower part 
contained the bullet except the rounded top. The upper 
part molded the top, and had a sharp edge which in 
opening cut the nib off. Such molds cost $2.50 a pair. 
I have quite a lot of molds of the different patterns. 
I have one set of molds which are quite a curiosity. They 
are made of soapstone, are 3^2 inches long by exactly 2 
inches wide and V/2 inches thick. They open through 
the center like opening a book. On one side are molds 
for four bullets of several sizes ; a channel or groove 
connects all the holes at the top, so that the lead can 
flow into all at once. The mold was set edgewise when 
bullets were cast. On the reverse side three bullets of 
another size could be run. The sides were joined' by two 
wooden dowels; the sides closed as closely the leaves 
in a book. The molds for all the bullets are as smooth 
and sound as any can be made. The outside of the mold 
has all the edges nicely beveled. I think it would be 
hard to find anyone now who could duplicate it. A 
member of the Stone family of Mt. Auburn, Mass., gave 
it to me. The donor is over fifty years old, and said that 
it had been in the Stone family for four generations, and 
was brought over from England by the father of Sea- 
born Stone, one of the very early settlers of Massachu- 
setts. I inclose a rough drawing showing the molds when 
shut and open. M. Hardy. 
Guns and Gun Feats. 
Charmian, Pa. — Editor Forest and Streams Referring 
to the discussion on the subject of barking, I would say 
that I have seen many squirrels bark the hunter, but I 
have never seen the operation reversed; but let that go, 
and let me state the following instances which have come 
under my observation. During an expedition for deer in 
southern Pennsylvania, my companion flushed two ruffed 
grouse, and sent a .38 Winchester bullet after one of them. 
The bird collapsed in its flight and fell to the ground as 
if dead. Almost immediately, however, it pulled itself to- 
gether and ran. My friend caught it and found that it 
was entirely uninjured, not even a feather cut as far as 
we could see. The bird evidently was made unconscious 
by the near passage of the ball. 
Last September I shot the head off of a duck with a 
.303 Savage, and immediately fired a second shot at his 
companion. The second duck spun round in the water 
"like a hen with its head cut off," making three complete 
turns. Then it flew away, evidently unhurt. Neither I 
nor my guide saw any loose feathers, and we made up our 
minds that the demoralization of the bird was due to the 
near passage of the ball and its accompanying "cyclone." 
Imagine a ball passing the open eye of a bird or squirrel 
within, say, 1-32 of an inch — would it not make his head 
swim? 
Cyclones and explosions will often tear all the clothes 
off of a human being and leave him dead, but without the 
least evidence of violence or damage to the body. 
. Wm. M. Ellicott. 
Reading, Pa., Aug. 15. — Editor Forest and Stream: In 
reply to an article in your issue of August 13, signed 
Manhattan, I would say that the rifles of to-day — that is, 
a modern gun fitted with peep-sights, but not used on a 
rest, shot offhand — are used for smaller targets than the 
charred substance on the end of a candle will give. The 
ordinary candle, if let to burn down for a few minutes, 
will give a target on the end of the wick about three- 
eighths of an inch long and an eighth wide.. The .22 
caliber bullet has been used for J^-inch targets at 15 
yards, and scores of 10 and 11 out of a possible 15 were 
made. Now if this be possible, which I know is and was 
done, what is there impossible in snuffing the candle? 
And it has been done without any muzzle rest, and 
smaller guns than a .50 and .52 caliber. Can furnish 
scores and lots of similar feats performed with a modern 
rifle. M. S. B. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Why all this debate over the possibility of snuffing a 
candle with a rifle bullet without putting out the flame? 
I submit that the inability of three expert members of a 
New York shooting club to do the trick with a .22 caliber 
rifle demonstrates only their inferiority to old-time rifle- 
men, and does not prove that the feat was not or could 
not be accomplished with the Kentucky rifle carrying a 
heavy round ball. 
Mr. O. H. Hampton says he tried it with an old- 
fashioned rifle and a tallow dip, imitating precisely the 
Kentucky conditions, but always the flame was blown 
out by the ball passing within four inches of it. 
Cabia Blanco and his cowboy friends seem to have been 
equally inept or unlucky. Latigo Joe and Quien Sabe only 
argue the point, and their contributions may be dismissed 
as irrelevant. Mr. Gould doubts the squirrel-barking 
stories, and therefore his views on candle-snuffing would 
be valueless if he should express them. 
Now, what does all this negative testimony tend to 
prove? Only that the writers are unable to shoot like the 
old-timers, just as that doubting Thomas, Kelly, proved 
only that his particular squirrel was not barked effectively. 
Against all the testimony, opinions, and arguments ad- 
duced, I will call but one witness, and his evidence shall 
settle the question to the entire satisfaction of a host of 
your readers. I am surprised that the controversy has 
been allowed to go so far when the means of settling it 
authoritatively are readily accessible. 
In Forest and Stream of August 6, you reprinted the 
chapter on "Kentucky Sports" from Audubon's works. 
The great naturalist testifies that he saw Kentuckians per- 
form the feat which our modern so-called experts declare 
to be impossible. To quote literally : 
"We have individuals in Kentucky, kind reader, that 
even there are. considered wonderful adepts in the man- 
agement of the rifle. To drive a nail is a common feat, 
not more thought of by the Kentuckians than to cut off a 
wild turkey's head at a distance of a hundred yards. 
Others will bark off squirrels one after another until 
satisfied with the number procured. Some, less intent 
on destroying game, may be seen under night snuffing a 
candle at the distance of fifty yards, offhand, without ex- 
tinguishing it." 
I hat was not hearsay evidence, for Audubon further 
says : 
"The snuffing of a candle with a ball I first had an op- 
portunity of seeing near the banks of Green River. 
* * * At a distance which rendered it scarcely dis- 
tinguishable, stood a burning candle, as if intended for 
an offering to the goddess of night, but which in reality 
was only fifty yards from the spot on which we all stood. 
* * * Each marksman shot in his turn. Some never hit 
either the snuff or the candle, and were congratulated 
with a laugh, while others actually snuffed tlie candle 
without putting it out, and were recompensed for their 
dexterity by numerous hurrahs. One of them, who was 
particularly expert, was very fortunate, and snuffed the 
candle three times out of seven, while all the other shots 
either put out the candle or cut it immediately under the 
light." 
For more than two generations, scientific men in every 
land have accepted the observations of Audubon as abso- 
lutely trustworthy. For near a hundred years the Ameri- 
can people have believed that the old-time riflemen of the 
South and West were great shots, and that, among the 
feats which they used to perform was snuffing candles. 
Audubon tells us that he saw Kentuckians snuff candles 
without putting out the flame, shooting offhand at fifty 
yards, yet it remains for so-called marksmen of these days 
to throw doubt on the writings of a great man, and, be- 
cause they cannot snuff a candle, to ponderously declare 
that no one else can or ever did. 
Is there one of them who has the temerity — the impu- 
dence — to insinuate that Audubon did not see what he 
described, or exaggerated the facts? 
Flint Locke. 
Minneapolis, Minnesota, Aug. 27. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: Although a new reader of your publication, I 
have been interested in the articles on squirrel barking, 
and pleasantly reminded of a personal experience follow- 
ing closely after the conclusion of the Civil War, when, 
under an appointment from General Schofield, command- 
ing Department of Virginia, I was stationed at Rocky 
Mount, Franklin county, Virginia, as one of the registra- 
tion officials engaged in conducting the registration and 
election provided for by the reconstruction act of Con- 
gress. I made my home with Colonel Turnbull, a typical 
tavern keeper of the olden time, who combined business 
with pleasure by supplying his tables with that justly cele- 
brated southern delicacy, "barbecued squirrel." There was 
a sauce of melted butter and vinegar with which the 
squirrels were basted while cooking, and the recollection 
of the savory odors, and the toothsome morsels linger 
as precious memories. Although I was a "Yankee" and 
the Colonel a "Johnnie Reb," the fact that I was his guest 
bridged all differences, and I accepted his proffer of horse 
and rifle, and often accompanied him on squirrel hunting 
expeditions. I did not learn to bark squirrels, but under 
the patient tuition of the Colonel, who taught me that if 
I could see the car of a squirrel and shoot straight enough 
to catch the bark of the limb from which it was shown, 
my bullet would pass through the head, I soon became 
proudly proficient as a squirrel hunter. 
During my service as a soldier, I was paralyzed by dis- 
covering that a bullet had emptied my canteen, and I am 
therefore prepared to accept the finding that a squirrel 
may collapse from the shock occasioned by a humming 
bullet. I hope that before you drop the squirrel, some of 
our Southern brethren will furnish for publication the 
old-time recipe for ''barbecued squirrel." 
C. E. Faulkner. 
Squirr Is in the Old Days. 
Along with the discussion about barking squirrels and 
snuffing candles with bullets, there has been somewhat 
said about the wonderful skill of the old-time rifleman: 
how he used to start a nail on to a board and finish driv- 
ing it with a bullet from a distance of anywhere from 
thirty to fifty yards, and how these experts never shot at 
any part of a squirrel except the head, and that it was so 
seldom a miss was made that the miss and not the hits 
was a subject for wonder. Not all of these things have 
been talked of in the recent discussions, but everyone who 
is interested in shooting has heard them many a time. 
The riflemen of those days were no better shots than 
those of to-day; the rifles were not so accurate as the 
ones we have now. Nevertheless it is a fact that the 
squirrel rifleman of those days disdained to take a shot 
at any part of a squirrel but its head. The conditions, 
however, were very different. When a boy, fifty years 
ago, I saw hundreds of squirrels in the woods surround- 
ing my home. So little attention was paid them by the 
people who were in the woods constantly about their 
work that the squirrels were very tame, paying little or 
no attention to the approach of a man until he came 
within thirty to thirty-five yards, and then if the hunter 
was careful to make no sudden motions, many of them 
sprang on to the side of a tree, frequently head down- 
ward, and remained motionless, affording an easy shot- 
so easy, that an ordinary rifleman of even these days 
would hardly fail to miss the squirrel's head. If the squir- 
rel did not stop and afford a fair shot, no further atten- 
tion was paid to it, for there was another one a few steps 
further on, and it did not pay to waste time on one that 
showed no disposition to set himself up as a fair target. 
While the vast woods of Ohio and Indiana were in an 
early stage of settlement, most people considered squirrels 
as vermin, and in years when the mast failed, they made 
serious havoc with the small patches of corn which were 
the settlers' dependance for bread. They sometimes 
swarmed into the corn by hundreds, and if not constantly 
kept driven away, would destroy acres of it. Shooting 
them was of little use. There were too many of them. 
At such times it became the business of the children of 
the family, the dog included, to make war on them in 
any way to scare them off. Some boy who doubtless after- 
ward became an expert trapper, thought of tying sheaves 
of straw around the bodies of the dead trees which still 
