110 
FOREST AND 
STREAM 
March. 1022 
A SPORTSMAN TO HIS SON 
CONCLUDING LETTERS CONCERNING SPORTS AFIELD AND WILD 
LIFE OBSERVATIONS ON HAMPTON PLANTATION, SOUTH CAROLINA 
Hv ARCHIBALD RUTLEDGE 
O LD fellow, yon should have been 
with me on a inoonliitht evening 
jnst a few days ago. I had had 
a hard day of it, and was sitting- 
on the porch after dinner. The snn 
had set and the moon was shining 
brightly. Suddenly my attention was 
attracted to an object nio\-ing in the 
jiea held about two bnndred yards 
from tbe house, and some forty yards 
from the edge of the woods. At once 
I made it ont to he a deer. Ihiderstand, 
there was enough afterglow with 
the moonlight to render the creature dis- 
tinct at that distance. There was a 
brnsh-heap on his head, and 1 thought I 
conld see ragged strips of velvet hanging- 
down from the horns when he threw np 
his head. This can be none other than 
onr cornfield buck. Certainly bis antlers 
are even bigger than they were last sea- 
son. .-\nd he awaits yonr coming. 
-At this time of the year down here the 
bucks are getting pretty lively. All of 
them :ire rubbing the \elvet now; and 
some old forw ard bucks are almost clean- 
rubbed. I have frequently seen highly 
])olished’ horns taken ou Sei)tember 1, 
the opening day for this county. 
Down at the Mayhank Club, a very 
odd thing hapjtened this season ; ;ind you, 
being tdways interested in game condi- 
tions, will be interested to bear about 
this matter. It seems that for many 
years past the hawks have been getting 
decidedly more than their share of quail. 
'The club manager announced a bounty 
on hawk heads, any old kind of head. Of 
course every negro hunter for miles 
around got busy with his old iron musket, 
and soon the mighty cannonade began. 
Tdundreds of hawks were slaughtered, 
from the cruel imperious one of the 
Cooper's to the mild-mannered brown- 
whiskered one of the marsh-hawk. S])ar- 
row - hawk, goshawks, red - shouldered 
hawks, sharp-shinned hawks, pigeon- 
hawks — a long array of dead they came. 
Since the work was so well done, the 
quail were expected to increase in 
great numbers. But, alas, for expecta- 
tions ! The hawks, dead or frightened 
away, gave the preserve over to vermin. 
Rats, minks, mice, raccoons, possums, and 
all other varmints that prey on birds and 
their eggs found Alaybank a paradise. 
The}' attacked the quail as they huddled 
together for the night : they broke up 
the nests and sucked the eggs ; they lay 
in ambush for birds feeding apart in the 
daytime. The weasels killed from mere 
w'anton desire. As a result of this, when 
the season opened last fall, there was 
hardly a quail on the place. They came 
to me for advice about the matter, and 
I told them the trouble. T told them to 
get the negroes to kill off the varmints, 
and to permit one intelligent white man 
to kill two or three of the worst varieties 
of hawks, if they really seemed to be 
getting the upper luind. But the cover 
in this country is so dense that hawks 
can really do little w ith (piail : owds, 
working at night, tlo more harm. Jim 
Taylor found the hollow -home of a horn- 
ed owd in which there w'cre the heads 
and legs of fi\-e freshly killed ciuail. 
People think an owl is a bird, but I put 
bim at the top of the list of varmints. 
T HK cpuiil here on Hampton have come 
through the summer nicely, and 1 
know where at least ten covies are 
ranging. Down by the rice field there is 
a covey in which there is one pure albino 
bird. This is the first time that I have 
Out for quail 
known of one's being on our ])lace. I 
saw it about the end of July. I walked 
into the half-grown covey one day, and 
down a rabbit-path in the broomsedge 
I caught sight of the flashing little fel- 
lows, all of the customary soft brown ex- 
cept this exquisite little snowdrop of a 
bird that stole into my sight under some 
heavy dew'berry \ ines, hesitated, saw' me, 
and then vanished into the grass. I 
walked on until I came under the shelter 
of some willow bushes on the margin. 
Presently I heard the old mother call 
softly. As I w'atched I saw the old bird 
hop up on an old birch log. A few' tall 
spears of herdsgrass grew up along the 
log, and their cool misty tops now' over- 
hung it. The beautiful mother now' stood 
under this delicious pink canopy, utter- 
ing her soft, sweet, wild field music. 
Soon the little ones came creeping 
quaintly out of their hiding. One by one 
they gathered like little elves upon the 
mossy log. All w'ere pretty, but the little 
albino held my eye. I have seen it sev- 
eral times since then; it is now almost 
grown. 
'V^’OTTv brother 'Tom has been home on 
^ a visit, and 1 just "laid out" to give 
the old fellow a fine time, b'or one thing, 
1 never rested until 1 ran five deer over 
him. 1 had located this bunch ; they 
sw’am over from Laurel Hill Swamp last 
month during the high water, and they 
ne\’er returned. Among them was a 
grand old monarch, two smaller bucks, 
and two docs. 'There must have been 
fawns too, hut at this time of the year 
we seldom see them. 'They are weaned 
now, and their range is very limited. 
\\'ell, 'Tom and I went dow'n in the 
Little Corner, where I left him on one 
of the best deer-stands in this country. 
Suddenly, and before T had reached my 
ow'ii stand, I heard old Lucy and the 
pups beginnii-ig to talk to us about what 
they had found. .-K moment or two later 
a gun opened fire — dar-dar (calling for 
two). I got a glimpse of the old buck 
with the tall horns sailing away on an 
offshore tack; others follow'ed him — a 
little fleet of white sails. \Valkiug over 
to your brother, I found him just as 
cool as a julep. 
"I w’ant your knife,” he said. “There’s 
the two-snag buck off there. 1 shot down 
the old one first, but he got up when I 
shot the second time." 
WT had meanwhile stopped the dogs; 
but now he put them on the trail of the 
old master. W'ithin half a mile we found 
hin-i — dead. T have seen deer in my time, 
but never a finer one than this. He was 
a swainp-bred deer, and his antlers were 
especially massive, inclining somewhat, 
too, to ])ahnation. We got the two bucks 
on our horses and returned home re- 
joicing. 
The way in which your brother shot 
the forky-horn is remarkable ; and as it 
is a fa\ orite metbod of his, 1 mention it. 
When a deer heads straight for him, or 
nearly so, he lets it pass him ; then he 
salutes the buck jmst back of tbe ear. We 
use buckshot, of course, and the trick is 
not so difficult as it sounds. I have 
known 'Tom to do it almost a score of 
times. The particular spot mentioned is 
a deadly one; in fact, old hunters of this 
region claim that the neck is the “ccr- 
tainest” place to hit a deer. Your brother 
seems to believe that the bulge bebind a 
buck’s ear is tbe little place where the 
creature lives. 
Tom and I went after bass in the Re- 
.serve, and the sport was fine. We eaught 
some nineteen one forenoon, ai-id they 
ran up to six pounds. We also shot four 
alligators. Every dead ’gator in this 
country is a paid premium on hog-insur- 
ance, and hound-insurance, too; for 
many a fine hunter meets a grim end in 
swimming an alligator-infested lagoon. 
One afternoon we drifted down the river 
in the canoe. Tom insisted on paddling, 
saying that he had done his share of 
(Continued on page 130) 
