64 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[Jan. 21, 1905. 
Trapshooters in the Field* 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Since leaving tlie firing-line as a professional shot, the last 
annual' tournament and pow-pow of the Scatter Shoot Tribe 
which was held at West Baden during the summer just past, 
having marked my departure from the ranks, separation from the 
gang and the entering upon my duties as salesman. I have had 
a number of letters from the boys asking as to how I was pro- 
gressing, weather- or not I ever had any fun, etc.; and as these 
letters are entirely too numerous to reply to in detail, I have 
thought to crave your indulgence and use your columns to com- 
municate once more with the "bunch," let 'em know that I was 
glad to hear from them and that the life of a salesman for a., 
gun and ammunition company, while traveling in the South and 
West, can be, and is a very pleasant one, -especially in the game 
season and if you know the right people. One little shooting 
trip in particular stands out jn my memory as one long to be 
retained and treasured and, thinking the boys might want to 
hear it, will give it to you , here. 
While calling upon my trade in Little Rock I was spending 
a very pleasant hour with Mr. John H. Martin, and was intro- 
duced to Mr. William B. Payne, of Beebranch, in Van Buren 
county. Now this same William B. Payne is some puiikins as a 
sportsman, and he must have some friends in his county, as he 
has just been elected as a Representative to the next general 
Assembly of the State of Arkansas. This of itself 'is not sur- 
prising, but when you know that brother Payne is a Republican 
and was the only man on that ticket elected to office in his 
county and is one of the four from that party holding seats in 
the next Legislature at Little Rock, why, that's dilTerent. 
It chanced that Brother Payne happened to mention the killing 
of a 22-pound gobbler in my hearing, and I can only describe 
my feelings at hearing this news, when I say I felt about like 
Tom Marshall and Fred Gilbert did out at Kansas City once, when 
Charlie Stevens dealt them each a i-oyal flush. — that is, before 
the hands were showed down, and by which comparison I mean 
that I felt some glad. I may say, too, that I felt, when Mr. 
■ Payne invited me out to help him kill another, a great deal better 
than either Tom or Fred, when the smoke cleared and they 
found the hands were a tie. It is needless to say that brother 
Payne's invitation was accepted before he had a chance to get 
away from it, and upon the following Thursday, which, by the 
way, was Thanksgiving Day, Nov. 24 last, I set out on my 
journey, a drive of about thirty-eight miles, and alone across a 
country I never knew was there. However, Mr. Payne had 
given me ample instructions, and at about 5 o'clock P. M., I 
drove up to his door. I think, privately, he was somewhat sur- 
prised, as knowing your Uncle Jim to be a tenderfoot, he thought 
the thirty-eight miles would bluff me. 'But the chance of getting 
a shot at America's greatest game-bird and, I believe, wildest 
game, made that thirty-eight miles appear to me like a walk 
around the block. I was quartered with Brother Jones, of the 
Jones House at Beebranch, and Brother Jones sure knows how 
to take care of a sportsman and his horse, etc. As my time was 
limited to two days, in which to hunt, Mr. Payne was down early 
the following morning, Friday, and we set out in my buggy for 
the Cataran Creek Bottoms, where he had been having some 
sport with the turkeys, and which locality he thought most 
favorable for me to get a shot in the limited time at my 
disposal. 
The morning was exceedingly dry and the atmosphere full of 
smoke from forest fires raging in North Arkansas at that time, 
and, in consequence, at 8 o'clock, when we left the main road 
.and drove out through some black-jack timber along a ' little 
used road to reach Cataran Creek, objects were not easily dis- 
tinguished at distances to exceed 100 to 150 yards. We had 
hardly gotten well away from the road and out into the timber, 
when Mr. Payne suddenly grabbed the ■ lines and, speaking 
cautiously, said: "I think I see something out there in the 
oaks." He stopped, then drove along for a few feet, stopped 
and drove along again, all the while .intently looking off to our 
right, and finally stopped and got out of the buggy to see 
better, but finally said, "I guess it was only a squirrel on the 
ground; but 'I thought I saw a turkey sneak along through the 
trees." The light was so uncertain* that it was impossible to say 
just what it was. While lighting a cigar, Mr. Payne suggested 
that I hand him a .32-20 rifle that I had in the buggy, as he 
wanted to try a shot before we got to the hunting grounds, and, 
if he could shoot it, he would use it instead of his shotgun. T 
neglected to say that about 100yds. to our riglit was a bare tree 
lap, which was the only obstruction, aside from the fog, to a clear 
view of the open woods. Mr. Payne took a piece of paper from 
his pocket, walked down into the woods about 60 to 65yds. and 
fastened it upon a tree. Upon his return I handed him the .32. 
All this time we had been at this particular spot, I should think 
some seven or eight minutes. Mr. Payne drew a bead on this 
piece of paper, and at the crack of the rifle out from that bare 
tree-lap jumped about as pretty a specimen of a v/ild turkey 
gobbler as one would want to see. Imagine, bovs, how your 
Uncle Jim felt after driving thirty-eight miles to get a shot at 
a turkey, and, before the hunt was started, here was a "beaut" 
skirting around him at about 75 to 80yds. distant, while my gun 
was reposing safely in its case in the bottom of the buggy, as 
v/e had two miles yet to go before reaching the hunting grounds. 
I have a friend who was once on his way to a pigeon shoot, and 
stopped over at a hotel in one of the large cities of the country. 
Following morning he carefully packed every pair of his trousers 
in his trunk and sent' them to the depot without having taken 
the precaution to put on one pair or even to reserve one pair 
for that meritorious pvn'pose. That's how I felt, "ye scoffers." 
There was no word I could think of at that particular time to 
fit the occasion. Brother Payne was in the meantiine busily 
getting another cartridge into the rifle and took a running shot 
at this Mr. Turkey, distant about 100 to 125yds., and going so 
fast that he looked more like a boa constrictor than he did a 
turkey. At this Mr. Gobbler rose and sailed majestically off over 
the treetops toward Scroggins Creek Bottoms, about three-quarters 
of a mile to our left. Brother Payne recited a few measured 
sentences not often heard in meeting, and we wended our way 
to the Cataran Creek. This is how I didn't kill the lone gobbler; 
but I did kill him a little later in the day, and in doing so I was 
some gratified. 
Going down to the creek bottom, to begin our hunt, Mr. 
Payne gave me a little history of this lone gobbler, . which he 
well knew, and also a careful description of the country and how 
we would try to circumvent him. After carefully staking our 
steed and putting our belongings into the trees out of reach of 
the range cattle and razor-back hogs, the real hunt began. The 
forenoon was spent in a still-hunt, covering a portion of the 
Cataran Creek Bottoms below or to our southeast, also a care- 
ful return along Scroggins Creek, where it appeared that our 
lone gobbler had gone. While on this hunt, Mr. Payne gave 
a very slight exhibition of what he can do in the way of 
seductive calling for wild turkeys, but did a very little of this, 
as he knew this Mr. Gobbler of old and knew that he was just 
as liable to- run the other way when called as to come toward the 
caller. 
Upon reaching Cataran Creek again and without having gotten 
a glimpse of our quarrj', after which Brother Payne enjoyed a 
cigar, while your humble servant "made much medicine, accord- 
ing to the custom of the tribe of Okobojis," and laid plans for 
the taking of Mr. Gobbler's scalp. 
It was agreed that the tenacity that this turkey had exhibited 
in running around us that morning, and in flying to our left 
when shot at, instead of going away down to our right, as he 
should have done, according to all the laws of wild things, es- 
pecially as the dense timber along the Cataran Creek lay nearest 
in that direction, had, to a certain extent, tipped his hand. In 
other words, there was some reason why he insisted upon going 
in a certain direction in spite of his scare at us and, as Mr. 
Payne knew of a cornfield yet unharvested that lay just on the 
east bank of Cataran Creek about a mile above us and almost 
due east of the point where we had flushed Mr. Gobbler, it was 
decided that this cornfield was his object. 
Knowing the country as he did his own dooryard. Brother 
Payne soon had me at the west edge of this cornfield, on the east 
side of Cataran Creek and right opposite where a little dry run 
opened up a gap in the mountain, which lay on the opposite 
bank. 
Here Brother Payne said: "Now, Jim, this looks like the 
place Mr. Gobbler would just about cross over the east side of 
that mountain to get to the field, and if you will climb up that 
little dry run, I will go about a quarter of a mile further north, 
climb the mountain, and we will hunt back across it, taking the 
remainder of the afternoon to hunt about a half-mile and will 
keep our respective distances. If I mistake not, you will meet 
that fellow coming across. Of this I am certain, for we did not 
find him in Scroggins Bottoms." 
Slowly I climbed the mountain, keeping on the bare stones 
and, upon reaching the top, there lay the unmistakable signs of a 
cyclone having several years before uprooted all the tall timber, 
which lay in a tangled mass over the entire level top of the 
mountain. I also encountered a large, fat and saucy fox-squirrel, 
who ran up a stunted oak and defied me to pot him. As I 
was hunting turkey, I maintained my rule to let all smaller game 
pass unnoticed, which was a good thing. Proceeding slowly and 
with great care toward a fallen tree, against the upturned roots 
of which I had decided to take a stand for a while, I must have 
consumed not less than fifteen minutes in going 100yds. All this 
time Mr. Gobbler was concealed in a tree-lap about 40yds to 
my left and about the same distance from the top of the bluff 
which I had climbed. It's a cinch that he saw nie the minute 
the top of my head showed over the mountain, and if he had 
run away I would never have seen him, on account of the tangled 
timber. Evidently the cornfield had such an attraction for him 
that he decided to let your Uncle walk out of gun shot on past 
him, and then he would sail off that mountain, like Jim Elliott 
going after a straight. However, he must have underestimated my 
distance, on account of the length of time I consumed in going 
toward my fallen tree, for I was just about 100yds. from the 
edge of the bluft' when, "flop! flop!" I heard him get up be- 
hind me. I wheeled just in time to see what looked to me like 
the largest bird I had ever seen just skimming the top of some 
scrub oaks, going faster 'than Old Charlie Budd, says Frank 
Parmelee did when the jack rabbit got in his way, and he looked 
a quarter of a mile away. It was a long shot and a desperate 
chance; but I had not driven thirty-eight miles for this chance 
to point wrong, so, as Tom Marshall would say, I threw some- 
thing into" that Mr. Turkey's system, where it would do the most 
good, and down he came with a crash, like Hugh Clark raisiilg 
the pot on a pair of aces. 
Thinking I might have by chance run into a flock, . I got 
another shell into the right barrel, having reserved the. left, else* 
as Fred Gilbert would say, would have knocked a little fine dust 
off his back with the second as he came down. Waiting about 
ten seconds, which seemed a week, for something to run or fly, 
and, as nothing showed up, I hollered. And when I say that I 
hollered, there are some of you who know just what that sounds 
like. There is a gentleman sportsman, Mr. J. Quincy Ward, of 
Paris, Ky., by gad, suh! who once essayed to yell a fox hunters' 
carol against your Uncle Jim. He quit on the second round, and 
I will say, that had J. Quincy been listening, he probably would 
have heard the yell I cut loose on this occasion. It was sure 
some copious. Brother Payne soon hove in sight, coming through 
the bushes like a buck, and the first thing he said was, "What's 
the matter, have you shot yourself?" Funny, how ridiculous 
things will come up under various circumstances, and I replied: 
"No; I have killed that gobbler, and if Ernie Tripp was here 
he could tell you a funny story." 
When " Brother Payne asked me why I had not gone to my 
prey, I told him that it was because I could not believe I had 
killed that turkey at the distance, and I wanted his word to 
prove it to me, so I had not moved out of my tracks since pulling 
the trigger. Upon going to the spot where he had fallen, we 
found him stone dead, and, I believe, he was dead before he 
struck the ground. The distance was 71yds., and an ounce and a 
quarter of double Bs ahead of three and one-half drams powder 
(smokeless^ had doubled him up like a rag at that distance. He 
was the most beatiful bird I have ever seen anywhere, had a 
beard 14^^ inches in length, which, with his spurs, showed him 
to be not less than three yeai's old, and he weighed on the scales 
2114 pounds. Brother Payne dragged him out of the tree-lap 
and fairly gloated over the prize. I have at various times in my 
trapsfiooting career, when in that unusual form that an "in and 
outer" will get occasionally, won some honors and much of the 
plaudits of the audience that always accompany a good win at 
the traps; but I cannot now recall a moment in my career that 
gave me the pride that accompanied the killing of the lone 
gobbler of Pine Tree Mormtain. 
Having driven so far for only a shot, and that shot having been 
successful, I was ready to go home, and declared to Brother 
Payne, that I was satisfied. I shouldered the gobbler, while he 
carried the guns, and when we left them at a native's house on 
the other side of the mountain, while we went after our rig, the 
lady native said: "We know that tuhky. He has been about 
heah for two yeahs, and in the spring there is a hen tukhy with 
him, but aftah that he goes always alone." 
The drive of thirty-eight miles back to the railroad was with 
the lightest of spirits, as I had accomplished what I went after 
and, further than this, I had added one more sportsman noble- 
man to my list of friends, the Hon. -W. B. Payne, of Van Buren 
county, Ark. With kindest regards to all the bunch and promis- 
ing — if Mr. Editor lets you see this — to regale you with a story 
of my good friend. Judge N. M. Williams, of the Indian Terri- 
tory, and his one-eyed dog Stag, I am. 
Yours truly, 
J. L. Head. 
Analostan Gtfn Clufa. 
The annual meeting of the Analostan Gun Club, of Washing- 
ton, D. C, was held Jan. 12, and the following officers were 
elected for the ensuing year: President, Burridge Wilson; Vice- 
President, Chas. S. Wilson; Treasurer, John Coleman; Secretary, 
Miles Taylor; Field Captain, Louis F. C. Heintz; Trustees, M. D. 
Hogsn, W. R. Baker and W. H. Hunter. 
The club decided to hold a two days' tournament on May 30 
and 31. Two hundred dollars in added money will be given, and 
in addition to the $200, .$15 will be given to first and second high 
averages, $10 to the first and $5 to the second. 
The money will be divided on the percentage plan in 40, 30, 20 
and 10 per cent.,, and the events will be shot under the sliding 
handicap system. 
PUBLISHERS' DEPARTMENT. 
Florida. 
Two Weeks' Tour via Pennsylvania Railroad. 
The first, Pennsylvania Railroad torn- of the season to Jackson- 
ville, allowing two weeks in Florida, will leave New York, Phila- 
delphia, Baltimore and Washington by special train on Jan. 31. 
E.xcursion tickets, including railway transportation, Pullman ac- 
commodations (one berth), and meals en route in both directions 
while traveling on the special train, will be sold at the following 
rates: New York, $50; Trenton, $49; Philadelphia, Harrisburg, 
Baltimore and Washington, $48; Pittsburg, $53, and at proportion- 
ate rates, from other points. 
Similar tours will be run Feb. 14 and 28. 
For tickets, itineraries, and other information apply to ticket 
agents, or to Geo. W. Boyd, General Passenger Agent, Broad 
Street Station, Philadelphia. 
BAKER GUNS SHOOT HARD 
and are SAFE. 
They are noted fof this wherever known, and that is 
almost everywhere. Asfc the man who owns one. 
Fine Trap and Medium Field Grades, $25.00 to $200.00 and wp. 
Inquire of your dealer or send for full descriptions. 
BAKER G 
D FORGING CO 
Cor. Liberty & Sohool Sts., BATAVIA, N. Y. 
MY TR.AP SCORES 
A pocket trap scors book, containing 50 pages of score sheets and 
the Interstate Assoc lation Rules for target and live bird shooting, and 
for shooting under the Sergeant System. The cover bears the title 
" My Trap Scores," and the pages, in number and form, are arranged 
to make a complete record of the shooter's doings at the traps. The 
pages are ruled to make a record of the place, date, weather condi- 
tions, number of traps, number of shooters, gun and load used, events, 
etc. The score sheets are ruled for 25 targets. Bound in leather. 
Price, 50 cents. -> -:- .> ... 
FOREST AND STREAM PUB. CO.. 346 Broadway. New York. 
— ^^""-^ ^^■'"^ ^^^^^...^ 
