606 
November, 1920 
FOREST AND STREAM 
AIR RIFLES 
One Down! 
O NE shot from the B. S. A. Air Rifle — and 
Bre’r Rabbit waits for you to put him 
into the game sack. The greatest small- 
game rifle on the market, amply powerful up 
to 50 yards, as accurate as the finest of .22 
calibre “powder’’ rifles, but safe to use in settled 
districts. 
The B. S. A. air rifle — not an airgun — is made 
by the largest firearms factory in England with 
the same care used in making the British 
service rifle. It has a specially rifled heavy 
steel barrel and shoots a special bullet, not a 
BB shot. Accurate sights permitting of fine 
changes for wind and elevation, little noise, 
no powder, no smoke, no messy cleaning 
after shooting the rifle. 
Used by thousands of members of air-rifle 
clubs in England for target practice. 
The .177 bore for home target practice, the 
.220 bore for all around shooting. Various 
models, stock lengths, and weights. Descrip- 
tive booklet at your dealers or 
A. GUNS, Limited 
Birmingham, England 
Sole Agents for U . S . A. 
PRODUCTION EQUIPMENT CO. 
5-7-9 Union Square, New York 
Here’s the Book You Want! 
This is the one book you need if you are going camping or like to read of camp life. 
Written by experts, “The Camper’s Own Book” treats the camping subject in a thorough and practical 
manner. 
NOTE THIS LIST OF CONTENTS: 
The Benefits of Recreation. The Camp-Fire. “Horse Sense” In The Woods. Comfort in Camp. Outfits 
tions for Hunting Outfits). Grtib-Lists. Canoes and Canoeing. Animal Packing. What to Do IT Lost. Tne 
Black Bass and Its Ways. About Fly Fishing for Brook Trout. Pointers for Anglers. The Rifle in the Woods. 
PRICE DELIVERED PAPER COVER 50 CENTS 
Forest & Stream, (J££) 9 E. 40th St., New York City 
he began to back away, — there was no 
time to turn the canoe. And I had the 
searchlight full on the marvellous head. 
Indeed it fascinated me as it came on 
with nose extended, teeth bared, antlers 
upheaving and eyes flashing fire. This 
was no cow, and evidently he was going 
to fight. 
Then came the mixup. 
“Get another flashlight in,” I squealed 
to mate. For of all things I ever want- 
ed in my life I wanted a. photo of that 
gallant beast coming head on for us. 
“Get another flashlight in,” I squealed. 
“I’m trying as fast as I can,” mate 
answered. 
But from the other end of the boat 
came low, insistent grunts, — “Turn the 
light off him; turn the light off.” 
Still I knelt hypnotized, holding the 
searchlight at arms length with its beam 
blazing full on the head rushing at us. l 
And while we worked frantically he 
came right on like a battleship. Not a 
swerve, nor a turn. Right at us he came 
till I reached out with the lantern among 
his prongs, pushing with all my might 
to fend him off. Right at us till Fred 
Waters stood up behind my mate and 
shoved with his paddle also in the thicket 
of horns crowning that magnificent head. 
Still it did not percolate. I had the 
fixed idea that if I could only hold him 
out of the canoe till mate put in another 
flashlight I could get that splendid photo. 
And as I pushed, both Fred and Charlie 
were saying, insistently, “Turn the light 
off him! Turn the light off him!” 
In fact, only faintly did I really hear 
what they were saying. It was only 
when Charlie, backing away with might 
and main, fairly hissed in intensity, 
“Doctor, for God’s sake turn the light 
off him, he’s blinded. He isn’t attacking. 
He’s blinded by the light. Turn it off!” 
Then it came to me, and reluctantly I 
stopped pushing at the towering horns 
and turned the light away. 
Instantly he swerved; instantly and in 
silence he put for the shore. Not a 
sound out of him as we turned in bub- 
bling wake, the while calling for another 
flash. Not a sound as we drew near for 
a time, — only the great head with its 
regal crown of horns swung ahead of us 
as I turned the searchlight on him once 
more. By this time he was headed away 
from us, and he kept on till he struck 
the shoal water; till he sent it heaving 
in great waves from his broad chest; 
till he sent mud and water splattering 
head high as he leaped for the bank; 
till he hit the tree fringe like a fourteen- 
inch shell and in the circle of light fall- 
ing on the forest grottoes and turning 
them to green-tinted, frosted, fairy 
fronds, in the glow that turned the mid- 
night woods to a tunnel of shining light, 
we saw him hurdling the fallen timber, 
wading through scrub and riding down 
saplings, — till he disappeared, and left 
us sitting theVe, still tingling with ex- 
citement, and devoutly hoping that the 
flash had been a success. 
Then I remembered the smaller sights 
and sounds; the tinkle of dripping water 
so increased, was the water dripping 
from his velvet-covered antlers. And I 
put that down in my brain. Next time 
I shall know, even in the dark, the dif- 
ference between cow sound and bull. 
In Writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. It ttrill identify you. 
