2&8 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
[Sept. 17, 1904. 
another writer says that it is likely phosphoretted 
hydrogen, as this, escaping into the air, is known to 
burst into a flame. He says it is produced by the decay 
of animal matters, and if thinly diffused here and there 
over the surface of a marsh, may present the changing, 
flickering light in question. Carburetted hydrogen, he 
adds, bubbling up through marshy ground, may be set 
on fire by phosphoretted hydrogen, and thus add to the 
extent and permanence of the flames. 
Many years after the Hopewell meeting incident, I 
was living on the outskirts of a large town on the Alle- 
gheny Mountains. My house stood at the foot of a 
gently sloping hill, a shoulder of which rounded off 
and meeting a similar slope formed a nook, what country 
people call a draft, a water-course, and from a swampy 
spot at the upper part of this draft a tiny stream of 
water issued and found its way down a small valley 
densely covered with bushes and overhung by trees. 
This spring-head and its little run of water were just 
across a field at the back of my house. Some apple 
trees grew in this field. From my upper windows, or 
by walking twenty paces from the door, the marshy 
spot might be seen. About the spot ignes fatui were 
sometimes observed. 
One summer evening I remember several of these 
meteors, three or four of them, were there at the same 
time. They were bobbing up and down and flitting 
about the place, just as on a hot day one has seen sev- 
eral butterflies hovering over a muddy spot in the road. 
They did not appear to explode, or die out, or go away, 
but remained at the place as long. as we cared to watch 
them. If it were to do again I think I should walk over 
there and investigate the matter at shorter range; but 
I did not feel much interested in it at the time, and the 
uncanny reputation of the thing somewhat interfered. 
But I remembered distinctly that on going up to bed, 
I looked out of the window at the top of the stairs and 
the jack-o'-lanterns were still there. The weather was 
very warm, and the sash had been taken out of this 
window for better ventilation. But as I was looking 
out, one of these meteors left the marsh and came sail- 
ing across the field directly toward me. If I remember 
rightly, another one' went sailing away among the trees 
in the orchard. Some light breeze may have sprung up 
and thus carried them away. But of one of them I am 
as positive as I am of anything that ever happened me 
in my life. This one came straight on toward me until, 
when it was not more than twenty feet away, I sud- 
denly put in the sash, which stood just at my foot, for 
I though that the meteor was going to come into the 
room; and so I have no doubt it would have done, 
being borne on the light indraft. It came close to the 
window, and then being deflected, as I suppose by the 
reaction of the current of air, it sailed along the side 
of the house, turned the corner, and passed on down the 
street and finally disappeared. 
Now I had a close, though a very brief, look at this 
particular jack-o'-lantern. It was not bright and 
shining like a flame, but a round, well-defined ball of 
light, resembling a small globe of ground glass inclos- 
ing a jet of gas. It was white, but not bright; I think 
its illuminating power must have been very little. It 
did not move swiftly, but simply floated along on the 
light wings of the gentle breeze, just as we see the 
"witches" of thistle down floating along on an autumn 
day. This is not adding much to the natural history of 
the ignis fatuus; but perhaps some one can give us 
more. T. J. Chapman. 
In an account of a residence in Cuba in the '40s, John 
Glanville Taylor relates an amusing ignis fatuus incident. 
He is writing of the mountains near Gibara : 
"The highest peak of La Silla, and the summit of the 
Colorado' are both remarkable for the exhibition of a 
very curious phenomenon which takes place on two or 
three of the coldest nights in the year, generally in the 
beginning of February; and it is the appearance of a 
bright light, said to be of a conical shape and consider- 
able size. Though it appeared one of the years I was a 
resident in Cuba, I had not the good fortune to see it, 
the peaks not being visible from where I was staying. I 
never heard any philosophical explanation of this, nor am. 
I aware whether or not similar appearance has been else- 
where observed. So I have merely classed the apparition 
with the ignes fatui, which I, as well as of course so* 
many of my readers, have observed dancing about in the 
bogs of Clare and Galway, and which have frightened; 
many an honest Paddy returning from fair or wake, as. 
much as the light in question does the 'Montunos' of 
Cuba, of whom I have heard some very amusing stories,. 
Among them, of an Englishman returning from Holguin 
in company with a 'Montuno,' when, as they turned at 
full speed an angle of the forest road, one pitch dark 
night, behold ! high aloft loomed out the towering crest 
of the Cerro, now of a sudden brilliantly illuminated by 
the mysterious beams of the phantom light ! However 
much the seasoned nerves of the Englishman might have 
been disturbed by the apparition, it upset the Spaniard 
in more ways than one, as he threw himself headlong 
from his horse, and, straightway falling on his knees, 
besought the Englishman, as there was no Padre at hand,, 
to confess him, and before his companion, now bursting 
with irrepressible merriment, could say a word, poured 
out a torrent of accounts of yet unwhitewashed sins, a re- 
capitulation of which, however much it enlightened ray 
acquaintance as to the personal failings of the Montunoy 
could not be attempted, for something of the same causes 
which have influenced (as is hinted) my Lord Bray- 
brooke in his selections from the life and diary of Mr. 
Pepys. I have some idea, also, that perhaps these large 
caves themselves may have something to do with the 
generation of the gases which produce this effect. I have 
once witnessed an exhibition of ignes fatui on a large 
scale in Ceylon, where they are looked on by the Singha- 
lese mountaineers of the most ignorant class with the 
utmost horror, though, as a matter of course, at the same 
time believing them, as they do, to be 'Yakshyos,' or liv- 
ing devils, and what is more, their own friends and rela- 
tives deceased; so in none of these three cases cited does 
ignorance seems to be bliss !" 
Excusable Regicide. 
"Roughing it" is an expression which we have long 
associated with the worst kind of hardships undergone 
for the sake of sport. But modern enterprise has made 
that phrase a misnomer when taken in the sense in 
which it was formerly understood. A number of years' 
experience camping out and hunting in the West have 
convinced me that every reasonable comfort can be en- 
joyed without sacrificing the principal object which lies 
nearest the heart of a thorough sportsman— good 
hunting. .: 
The last outing I had in the West, was m Wyoming, 
in the Jackson Hole country, and I realized then how 
thoroughly a guide, who enjoys the comforts of life 
himself and has the real love of sport, can contribute 
to the success of a hunting trip. A guide who likes 
to make himself comfortable will generally think of what 
is necessary for the comfort of those who engage his 
services. 
Early in October I started out from St. Anthony, 
Idaho, with my guide, Ed. Sheffield, on one of the most 
pleasurable and successful hunts I have undertaken. A 
couple of days' drive and we reached Shives' ranch, at 
which place we got ready ' the pack outfit. A day's 
loaf at this spot while everything was being got in 
readiness was very pleasant, as it gave me a chance to 
stretch my limbs and to admire the grand perspective 
which no words can possibly describe in a way that 
would bring the natural picture to the eye. The Teton 
peaks, covered with perpetual snow and dazzling bright, 
furnished an attraction which never palled on the mind, 
and they were ever visible from the plain but tidy 
ranch. Flocks of ducks frequented the ice cold stream 
near by, which cut its way through the virgin soil. 
The horses having been corralled during the day s 
wait, everything was arranged for the morning start. 
The next day I rose bright and early to commence the 
final stage of the journey. When the last pack had 
been "cinched" and everything was in readiness, we 
began our last day's journey to the hunting grounds. 
It was a long monotonous ride— much of it through 
thick timber with no stop for lunch or rest, because 
the heavily laden beasts could not lie down with their 
packs on and we did not care to delay them. At length, 
after crossing a - rocky ravine and a swift running stream 
and climbing a steep ascent, we arrived at Two Ocean 
Pass. There we found an ideal spot to camp. . In 
a short time everything was unpacked, and the two tents 
were pitched. The tired beasts that had borne the 
brunt of the day's work tumbled over and rubbed their 
backs in the dust and snorted with delight. 
The next day I. started out on horseback with my 
guide, Sheffield, while the ranchman, Shives, I had en- 
gaged as cook and general helper, remained behind and 
minded camp. We took several dogs along with us, 
because they might be useful in rounding up lions or 
"cats," as they frequently call the cougar or wildcats 
in that section. The day passed without result, except 
that I lost my Seitz spy glasses, which hung on to the 
pummel of my saddle by a leather strap, this had evi- 
dently caught on something and snapped. When the 
guide heard of the loss, he exclaimed with great confi- 
dence, "We must find them to-morrow." I was some- 
what inclined to be skeptical about his being able to 
recover the lost property, but I assented to his going 
out next day with a little dog he called "Maiden," a 
cross of a black-and-tan foxhound and a bloodhound, 
and as intelligent a little animal as I ever saw. He 
came back in a few hours with the glasses, and I was 
curious to learn how he managed to discover them. 
While following our trail of the day before, he stopped 
to call the dog which fell behind him and stood yelping 
at something which he had passed; when he examined 
the object, it proved to be the glasses. They were not 
immediately in the line of the trail but had rolled down 
hill and were some dozen feet away from it. I wonder 
if that dog overheard our previous conversation and 
knew what we wanted! 
Although for a couple of weeks the climate had been 
cool and exhilarating, often freezing at night, still we 
had as yet no snow. Snow was wanted, because it 
makes the hunting good and when traveling the impress 
of the foot is practically noiseless, and does not alarm 
the game. Moreover, when the snow accumulates in 
deep drifts it drives the elk and deer out of the higher 
elevations down into the lower country, where they col- 
lect in large numbers and become bolder. 
One evening on the way back to camp the guide was 
explaining to me why he thought that we would be apt 
to find bull elk with the best heads separated "from the 
bunch of cow elk." The old bulls, it would seem, after 
a time are driven off by the younger bulls, which in 
turn take charge of the herds of cow elk. The conversa- 
tion was suddenly interrupted, for, on a knoll, about 
300 yards away, we saw two fine bulls all by themselves. 
To dismount and take aim with my Mauser after gaug- 
ing the distance, was a matter of a few seconds. The 
furthest of the two bulls was a stately monarch, and he 
had a set of antlers which tempted me as much as a 
crown could have tempted Caesar. The first shot for- 
tunately took effect behind the shoulders and made him 
sag on his knees, but he immediately recovered and 
started to run. The next shot was over him and, before 
I could fire again, the other bull ran in between and 
blanketed him, receiving the ball. They both then stood 
still several seconds, while two more messengers of 
death sang a doleful dirge on their errand of destruc- 
tion, and then they both disappeared over the hill. 
The atmosphere in that country is naturally very blue; 
but there was a tinge of blueness in the air at that time 
which I am sure was not natural. Sheffield said he was 
not the cause of it, and I know that I was not to blame. 
I have heard of somebody swearing until the air became 
blue, but this does not seem to be one of those cases. 
However, we were both convinced that the first bull 
was hit twice at least, and more than likely would not 
go a great ways. It was inexpedient to follow him up 
at that time, because he was still fresh and strong. It 
seemed best to go back to camp and come out the next 
day and track him, because he would be liable to run 
only a short distance and then lie down to rest and 
become stiff and incapable of running any great dis- 
tance. On the other hand, if pursued, he might con- 
tinue to run while his strength held. 
With anxious hearts we returned to camp, noting 
with apprehension the lowering clouds that were be- 
ginning to darken the sky. The indications of a storm 
which would cover the ground with snow were not 
welcome at that particular time, as much as I had 
desired it previously. Fresh snow will obliterate the 
tracks and destroy the scent on the ground. If that 
should happen, I had small expectation of securing my 
trophy. The next morning the guide looked into my 
tent and said that everything was covered with snow. I 
immediately went out to see for myself. There, sure 
enough, it lay several inches deep. It covered the trees, 
bending the branches under their weight and transform- 
ing, as if by magic, the rugged landscape into a fairyland. 
It was beautiful — but it was disappointing. 
After breakfast we set out, taking one of the dogs, 
with us. When we reached the spot where the elk had! 
been shot the keen-scented dog bgan to sniff the tops, 
of the sage brush which stood about two feet high. We: 
followed him as he confidently pursued his way through 
the sage brush and timber, until finally, ascending as 
small knoll, I espied just over the crest the tops of the 
antlers spread out like the branches of a tree. The 
noble elk was stretched out in beautiful and stately re- 
pose, his neck supported against a fallen tree, which 
held up his antlers, as if determined that even in death' 
they should not be defiled by touching the ground. 
At last my trophy was won, and I had something to 
show to admiring friends. A post mortem examination 
upon the carcass of this monarch of the Rockies, con- 
ducted by a coroner's jury composed of my guide 
Sheffield and the ranchman Shives, resulted in a verdict 
of excusable regicide, caused by two bullet wounds in- 
flicted by a "tenderfoot." 
The remaining days of the hunt passed most pleas- 
antly, and I added one more trophy to my collection, 
but not so handsome a one as the first. Nor does that 
one appear to as great advantage, although it has been 
handsomely mounted, as it did in its natural surround- 
ings, resting upon the head of the finest animal this 
continent has produced. '-• E. F. R. 
New Jersey. 
A New Rocky Mountain Club. 
Boston, Sept. 12. — Editor Forest and Stream: The- 
Rocky Mountain Country Club, mentioned in my last let- 
ter, is so unique in character that I think your readers; 
will like to know more about it. 
The club grounds are located at the base of the Rocky 
Mountains at Centennial, Wyoming, which is thirty-five- 
miles distant from Laramie, and is 8,000 feet above seaa 
level. Mr. Isaac Van Horn, a well-known State street 
banker and broker, with large business interests in 
Wyoming, and who has traveled over the whole West 
from Canada to Mexico, became fascinated with the 
natural attractions of the Medicine Bow forest reserva- 
tion, and his vivid descriptions of what he had seen have 
so interested several of his neighbors in Brookline and 
Boston that they decided to take the necessary steps to 
form a sportsmen's club. The location is on the edge of 
the last bit of virgin country in the wild west. There 
the cowboy still flourishes, the hunter of big game and 
the pioneer trapper are lords of the woods and the moun- 
tains. Not only deer and elk, but the highly prized big- 
horn, or mountain sheep, are there yet. 
The president of the club is the eminent corporation 
lawyer of Boston, Marquis Fayette Dickinson; the vice- 
president, Gov. Fenimore Chatterton, of Wyoming; Mr. 
Van Horn is treasurer. Among the trustees are such men 
as Henry M. Whitney, of Boston, and Irving F. Baxter, 
United States District Attorney of Nebraska; while 
among the members are several Boston and western men 
of large means and important business interests. The 
entrance fee is $ioo,_ and the annual dues are the same 
amount. A round trip ticket from Boston will cost about 
$200, and the expense of living on arrival will not be 
less than $25 a week. 
One of the most delightful features is the admission 
of ladies, who are expected to play a very important part 
in the diversions. Mrs. Van Horn is a skillful horse- 
back rider; Mrs. B. Frank Bennett, of Brookline, whose 
husband is a charter member, will be quite at home b 
