2S2 
have but rnoderate- success compared with that achieved 
’b}' theweteran gunner, ^ . 
The great stretches of marsh lands which occur in vari- 
ous portions of Massachusetts, particularly on Cape Cod 
and on Long Island and in many sections of New Jersey, 
are frequented during their autumnal migrations by ma.ny 
species of so-called shore birds or waders, many of which 
make their journey from the north in easy stages, but 
some, such as the golden plover, do not linger on their 
way but make an uninterrupted stage from Newfoundland 
and Prince Edward Island to the West Indies, and this 
long flight is often accomplished far out at sea ; but some- 
times a heavy northeast storm comes on which diverts 
the birds from their course and. forces them to the shores, 
where, wing-weary and bewildered, they linger a day or 
two, gleaning such food as can be obtained until their 
southern journey is resumed. 
It is on these occasions that gunners reap a rich har- 
vest. More than once have I seen the great areas of 
open lands, pastures, etc., on Nantucket and Martha’s 
Vineyard covered with flocks of these plover, and have 
had many a day’s sport among them. Even on the Canton 
Fowl Meadows, which lie along the Neponset River a 
few miles from Boston, have I found large numbers of 
these storm-bewildered iDirds. 
But if there is no storm at the time of flight of the 
golden plover, which occurs usually between Aug. lo and 
20, the average gunner does not have the opportunity to 
secure many of these beautiful birds unless he goes to 
the northern shore of Prince Edward Island, which is 
the first point at which they touch after leaving their 
nesting places in the P'ar North. 
My friend was a keen sportsman, and when the proper 
time arrived he usually managed to get in a number of 
days in the season in shooting over his dogs, of which he 
had a magnificent pair of Gordon setters ; but he also 
enjoyed shore-bird shooting, and the summer rarely 
slipped by in which he and I did not put in a day or two 
together. He was well educated in the peculiarities and 
ways of the bay birds, and could perfectly imitate the 
call of every species which frequent the Atlantic coast. 
Although the sun rose brightly on the morning of Aug. 
10 the sky soon became overcast, and before a couple of 
hours had elapsed a heavy fog drifted in from the east- 
ward and this bade fair to spoil our sport, during the 
earlier portion of the day at any rate. It was one of 
those thick, almost impenetrable fogs such as occur on 
the coast during the dog days, one of those fogs which 
seems just ready to turn into a drizzle and then rain. 
Although it annoyed us for a while it had the good 
effect of setting the birds in motion, for the air soon be- 
came filled with their notes as the scattered flocks flew 
about at random, calling to each other as if for the pur- 
pose of obtaining their bearings. They did not stool 
well, however, for the fog seemed to make them more 
cautious and suspicious than they usually were, and noon 
had passed without our securing anything but two or 
three brace of summer or lesser yellowlegs. 
“This is a poor showing for a half day’s work,” ex- 
claimed my friend as he smoothed the plumage of the 
birds and laid them carefully in one corner of the trench, 
where he covered them with some damp seaweed, “but 
if the fog lifts by and by we’ll have_ some sport there’s 
a lot of birds moving, and when the air clears they’ll come 
to the stools right merrily. A large share of them are 
yellowlegs, for we can hear them whistling in all direc- 
tions.” 
Of all our so-called marsh birds these are among the 
greatest favorites with sportsmen, and their numbers do 
not seem to be decreasing as rapidly as are thqse of the 
plover, curlew, etc. I suppose one reason for this is their 
breeding places are widely scattered throughout the con- 
tinent, and in their migrations they usually move in small 
parties rather than in immense flocks, like the plovers. 
This snipe is one of the most widely diffused of all the 
waders, its range extending from the most northern 
points, such as Alaska. Labrador and Greenland in sum- 
mer to South America in the winter, traveling as far 
south as Patagonia before it comes to a halt. 
This species is almost the exact counterpart of the 
winter or greater yellowlegs, but is considerably smaller 
in size and is much more numerous. 
After partaking of the generous lunch that had been 
put up for us we took our guns and stretched our legs 
in a short walk along the causeway, hoping we might pos- 
sibly come up on a bunch of- the birds that were feeding,; 
the fog was so dense, however, we could do nothing. 
Occasionally a small bunch of birds would appear and 
then disappear like so many phantoms, but nothing save a 
few sandpipers gave us an opportunity for a shot, and 
we did not care to waste our ammunition on them. 
Disgusted with our ill-success we returned to our stand 
and waited with as much patience as we could command 
for the mist to clear away. At length it seemed to grow 
less dense, and by the middle of the afternoon it lifted, 
and condensing into great clouds, began to move away 
before a brisk breeze from the westward that had now 
begun to blow. , . , . , 
“Three o’clock,” said my friend, consulting his watch, 
“and not a shot fired since noon. Well, we must take 
things as they come. It will be high tide at a little after 
5, and that will start the birds off the bars and flats, 
where many of them are now feeding^ and resting, and 
we may yet get a good bag before dark.” 
Another hour passed before any birds ' presented them- 
selves that we cared to shoot ; now and then a little whisp 
of “peeps,” sanderlings or grass birds came along, but 
they were in such small parties we did not bother with 
them. 
At length we heard the piping notes of two or three 
flocks of larger species, and presently. a number of yellow- 
legs and ringnecks approached our stools, and we suc- 
ceeded in dropping with our four barrels over a dozen 
from the ranks of the two species. 
The discharge of our guns seemed to be the signal that 
was needed to arouse the birds into action.' Up into the 
air in considerable numbers they sprang and began skur- 
rying about after the manner of their kind, and uttering 
their peculiar calls and gathering into flocks the single 
birds which were darting about aimlessly. These aug- 
mented flocks approached our stand with more confidence 
than did the smaller bunches, and responding to the 
whistling invitations tha|; ?ept .to cantg to 
gtQols wn§hspiciow||i|r, ■- ' ■ ' 
FOREST AND STREAM. [Sept. i6, 1905; 
“This is something like sport,” I exclaimed on return- 
ing to the pit after gathering up a couple of dozen of 
yellowlegs, grass birds and ringnecks. “Your prediction 
proves true, and it’s more than likely we’ll get good bags 
after all.” 
“Yes,” he replied, smoothing the plumage of each bird 
as was his habit and depositing them with the rapidly 
accumulating pile. “We have three hours ahead of us, 
and the three best hours of the day. Here comes quite 
a bunch of yellowlegs,” he continued, “and I can hear the 
whistle of the dowitcher among them. They are coming 
straight to the stools and we’ll give them a warm wel- 
come.” 
The flock that was approaching us was a heterogeneous 
collection of species, for from its ranks came the shrill 
whistle of the dowitcher, the three piping notes of the 
yellowlegs and the more twittering call of the grass 
birds and plaintive whistle of the robin snipe. It was one 
of those medley collections that every gunner occasionally 
meets and it seemed to have been got together chiefly for 
society’s sake, for all these species are sociable in their 
natures. We whistled them down and as they came in a 
compact body just as they were about to drop to the de- 
coys we sent among them a leaden shower with deadly 
effect, at least two dozen birds dropping to our four 
barrels. 
Away the survivors darted, but before they had gone 
thirty rods they swung back in response to our calls and 
returned to the stools, among which a number of wing- 
tipped birds were fluttering. The contents of another 
four cartridges were sent among them when the remnant 
of the flock skurried away and disappeared in the dis- 
tance. When the dead and crippled had been gathered up 
we counted twenty-nine, of which three were dowitchers, 
or “quail snipe,” as they are often called; two were 
“robin snipe,” or redbreast plover, as New Jersey gunners 
call them, and the balance consisted of yellowlegs. 
“That’s a good showing from a bunch like that,” said 
my companion as we carried our spoils into the trench. 
“This seems to be a yellowlep- day, and no mistake. Let 
us hope there will be a few plover along by and by. I 
like to get these quail snipe; they have some of the ways 
of my favorite, the Wilson snipe, one of the best birds 
to shoot over a dog we have.” 
“You are right. I have walked up these dowitchers 
more than once and shot them as they were darting away 
like so many Englis snipe.” 
During the remainder of the afternoon we were kept 
pretty busily employed, but none of the larger bay birds 
came to our stools; tw-o or three small flocks of Eskimo 
curlew' passed over us high in the air, but, they would not 
yield to our blandishments and come down. We also 
heard, though from a great height, the whistle of the 
beetlehead or blackbellied plover, or blackbreast, but these 
birds also refused to descend to the earth, and we had to 
content ourselves with the smaller varieties, but our score 
w^as a good one> for we more than filled our luncheon bas- 
kets when we prepared to return to the house. 
Our genial host joined us as the sun was sinking below 
the western horizon. “I heard you banging away,” he 
said, lifting the hamper, “but by the great horn spoon 
I’d no idea of your having such luck as this. Why, the 
basket’s full ! We’ll have to get them in the icebox right 
off, for these fat shore birds soon spoil in dog day 
weather. You’ll have company enough on the marsh to- 
morrow, for four more gunners have just arrived.” 
On reaching the house we found the arrivals to be old 
acquaintances, and loud were the congratulations when 
our basket of birds was exhibited to them. 
Selecting a dozen of the best ones my friend requested 
that they might be dressed and broiled for supper, to 
which our friends were invited to join us, which invita- 
tion they were not slow to accept. The meal having been 
disposed of we cleaned our guns, and when this neces- 
sary work was completed we joined the other sportsmen 
on the veranda and followed their example in burning a 
little tobacco for a go to bed smoke. E. A. Samuels, 
[to be concluded.] 
Coon Hunting in Indiana, 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
A correspondent in your Sept. 2 number calls up mem- 
ories of early days, in this eastern Indiana by discussing 
’coon hunting. From my earliest recollection up to about 
the year 1870 the older sportsmen in this section kept one 
or more ’coon dogs. A good ’coon dog had a money 
value of from $10 to $25. This was. e.stimated not alone 
on his trailing qualities, or reliability in always locating 
the ’coon, and ignoring cats^ rabbits, skunks, porcupines 
or foxes, but partly on account of his-musical voice. The 
long-eared hound with his long drawn note and his abil- 
ity to follow a cold trail rated as the most valuable. 
This kind of a dog would follow a trail_ late into the 
morning. I have known them to find scent in damp spots 
in the middle of a' forenoon though the ’coons ran in the 
night time. ’Coons were hunted for their pelts of course, 
for in those days a few dollars was an item to a poor 
man living in a cabin in a clearing with few opportuni- 
ties for making money with which to pay the doctor and 
buy his necessaries. But there was another stimulant. I 
have known two or three settlers to gather at one place 
with all their dogs, at least one each, and sometimes there 
would be four or five hounds in the party. They usually 
started soon after nightfall, so that the trail when struck 
would be fresh. Then there was music. Three, four or 
five hounds bawling in chorus and running at top speed 
made an animated picture, though shrouded with dark- 
ness. 
From a commercial point of view the long-eared hound 
was not the most valuable kind, as your correspondent 
points out. The silent dog caught more ’coons than the 
noisy one, but the sport, the musical features, were ab- 
sent, and that took much of the zest from the play and 
made work of it. 
The last dog I hunted with walked at my heels much 
of the time. He was a large shaggy fellow of uncertain 
breed, with pendant ears, and as intelligent look as I ever 
saw in a dog’s eye. He would leave me like a quarter 
horse and a few sharp yelps told the story of a trail. 
Usually only a few moments elapsed until either the ’coon 
squealed or old Hal was barkinft at a tree a quarter of a 
Oklahoma Quail, 
Oklahoma, Aug. 26 . — Editor Forest and Stream: 1 
have been a constant reader of your journal for aim* 
a year now and cannot say enough in praise of it. I caj 
fully peruse every edition and have found it an indl 
pensable source of information in the line of outdoorTij 
I have not noticed airy correspondence from anyone frc 
my neck of the woods, and take it for granted that a fi 
lines from Oklahoma would be acceptable. ,■ 
I am a sportsman on a small scale, but have unlimif 
fields which are full of quail. We have them here in vi 
numbers, and I hope they will always be kept so. % 
have a non-sale law and an open season of four mont 
which gives us ample shooting. I have two fine dogs, ci 
an English setter, the other a pointer, both good on qd 
having never worked on any other game. The quail hi 
made an excellent hatch this year, some having thi 
third brood off now. I have counted seven coveys ! 
full-grown birds with over thirty birds each on one for 
acre tract of land. There is excellent cover for the bir 
and few people hunt them very much. The farmers: 
our township are complaining that the birds will becov 
a nuisance if more are not killed during the hunt? 
season. One fanner tells me the quail have stripped 
three-acre tract of caffer corn for him. However, I thi: 
he is mistaken as to the quail ; they eat considerable cafi 
corn, but I have always noticed in my observations tl 
large flocks of English sparrows frequent the caf 
patches in this locality, and I have no doubt that they ij 
the ones that do the damage. 
Last Sunday, in walking across a half section of pj 
ture, I flushed thirteen coveys of quail, and I had no do; 
This will give you some impression of the number 
birds there are here. We are looking forward to a f 
season’s hunting this year. It is not far away and so 
of us have already started making preparations for -i 
.season’s shoot. B. J. Young 
Vermont Game. 
Sheldon, 'Vt., Sept. i. — The crop of ruffed grouse v 
in most localities be a good one, though the birds will : 
small, as , many of the young chicks were not hatched l 
until about July i, the wet weather or some other cai 
evidently destroying the first nests of eggs. Very f 
woodcock have been seen along the alder thickets, as : 
extremely wet season has kept much of the low gro.d 
overflowed. Deer are, if anything, more numerous tl 
they have been since the open season for this kind 
sport, though without doubt there has been a lai 
amount of illegal deer shooting, and so far but few c( 
victions. The deer running foxhound tribe are lesser 
in numbers. Very few foxhounds are now allowed to 1 
at large in this part of the State. There is an oc 
sional claim put in for damage done to crops by de 
One farmer in Lamoille county recently put in a clol 
of $10 for a few hills of beans that he claimed had tx| 
damaged by a wandering doe and fawns, but in most I 
stances of this kind the farmers are ready to sacriil 
something for the sake of seeing the beautiful animl 
about their premises. | 
From the sign seen about the streams we believe tl 
the crop of mink pelts will be a good one this seasl 
and will be an important one, for a prime mink skin 
bring a few dollars this year. Fox and ’coon are scat! 
but there is a large number of black duck in the marsl 
near the mouth of the Missisquoi River. This will mj 
good shooting out in the open waters of the bays, wH| 
the lease holders of the marshes cannot control. Mj 
anon. Stansteae: 
"Old Whale." 
A San Rafael, Cal., report dated Aug. 4, records tj 
“Old Whale,” the big buck of the Lucas Valley, so-cai| 
for years past, on account of his great size, fell to ;| 
rifle of County Treasurer T. J. Fallon Wednesday. 1 | 
old fellow made a great fight and killed a valuable hoi|] 
belonging to Henry W. Collins, of Sausalito, and ne3| 
placed Collins hors du combat. “Old Whale” has roanl 
the Lucas Valley for many years. For season after s4 
son he has been the prize sought for by many a partyi 
hunters. Pounds and pounds of lead were whizzed'8 
him, but he seemed to- bear a charmed life. Until yesi^ 
day a bullet never even creased his hide. He is the lajjl 
est buck brought to this city within the last twenty yc;| 
To-day, dressed and dried out, he weighed 155 pouil 
The old monster was a coast deer, or what is callql 
Pacific buck. These deer are found almost exclush-i; 
in the coast mountains. Their dinstinguishing featuru 
that their antlers never have more than two points! 
each side. The deer was killed on the grounds of I 
Victor Club at the head of the Lucas Valley and ab'l 
seven miles from this city. Those participating in' » 
hunt were T. J. Fallon, S. A. Pacheco, H. W. Collins,! 
Desella and Henry Martens. * 
Less Game But More Law. I 
Opelousas, La., Aug. 25. — The game is not near! 
plentiful as in the days gone by, nor do I believe thajj 
will ever be again. The snipe are practically a thing | 
the past, and also ducks and woodcock. We have scjj 
quail, but not more than half what we used to- have, 
if a man bags twenty-five or thirty in a day’s shoot hi 
doing well. A person has to travel a good distance fil 
town to find any shooting, and sometimes he is not si 
cessful. I think, though, this season there will' be ml 
than last, for I hear the birds whistling in every direct:! 
and several times I have heard and seen them rightl 
the corporation of the town. We have more string! 
game laws than formerly, and there seems to be a genj 
regard for their provisions. This is passing strange, ; 
the people of this country were never known before 
respect a game law; but I think that a good deal of ' 
respect has been brought about by “bluff” on the ll 
of others. LouisianJ 
[But to be perfectly sure consult Gowp Latvs in Bri 
THE MANY-USE OIL FOR SPORTSMEN, ' 
It keep! boots all leather wat^r-proofi—^#, ' -J 
i 
1 
