200 
FOREST AND STREAM 
May, 1921 
A YOUNG DIANA OF THE PRAIRIE 
SHE HANDLED A GUN WITH THE AMAZING GRACE^OF A NATURAL 
SHOT AND BROUGHT DOWN HER BIRDS IN FAULTLESS STYLE 
By SHADOW 
I WAS in Iowa, in the Fifties, chicken 
shooting, and after a successful morn- 
ing’s sport I was driving along the 
road, some eight or ten miles north of 
Davenport, when I saw a young girl of 
perhaps fourteen standing in front of a 
cabin by the roadside. When nearly op- 
posite her she came toward me and in 
eager tones asked me, if that gun “war’’ 
loaded? Giving her an affirmative reply 
she reached out her hand and said, “Let 
me take it a minute”. 
Now, like many another, I never could 
refuse one of the sex any reasonable de- 
mand so without a second thought I 
handed her the gun greatly wondering 
what she was going to do with it. I had 
not the slightest suspicion of evil until 
she eagerly seized the weapon when I 
must confess that the fierce look that 
came over her very expressive counten- 
ance as she took the gun in her hands 
and cocked both barrels gave me no lit- 
tle uneasiness, and it was with sincere 
forebodings of trouble and anxious 
thoughts of the future that I watched 
the little lady’s action. 
I did not have long to wait, for, with 
that fierce expression still more fearful 
in its intensity, she darted toward the 
cabin which was set on posts and some 
three feet from the ground, and drop- 
ping on all fours she peered under the 
building a few seconds then with a 
quick motion she placed the gun at her 
shoulder, pointed it under the cabin 
and blazed . away. 
I was at her side as she sprang to 
her feet. Handing me the gun, with 
exultant voice she exclaimed, “That’s 
three I’ve killed this week. Pap has 
gone with our gun and it’s lucky you 
came along or I would had to crawl 
under there and kill it with a club.” 
She then went to the woodpile and 
returned with a stick with which she 
drew from under the cabin the two ends 
of a rattlesnake, about three feet long. 
Meantime we were joined by the mother 
of my heroine, who coolly took the per- 
formance as a matter of course, and 
proudly told me that Mary hated snakes 
and had killed a “power” of them. She 
then informed me that Mary had also 
shot two kotes (coyotes), and lots of 
chickens and ducks. 
I FOUND by questioning Mary that 
she had often shot chickens and ducks 
flying, adding that Pap’s gun was so 
heavy and kicked so that she did not 
like it, then, with charming naivete, 
she said she wished that I would give 
her my gun, for she thought that she 
could just do them up with that. 
Notwithstanding the fact already 
mentioned that I am prone to yield to 
the wishes of the gentle sex, I wish it 
understood that I always draw the line 
at the impossible and sometimes at the 
S. T. Hammond 
(Shadow) 
JJ/ E are delighted to present to 
rr our readers another story 
from the inimitable pen of S. T. 
Hammond, whom our older readers 
will remember as the author of “My 
Friend the Partridge” , “My Old Dog 
Trim”, “Hitting vs. Missing” and 
“ The One-eyed Grouse of Maple Run.” 
Mr. Hammond is now in his nine- 
tieth year and has devoted a lifetime 
to the pursuit of our upland game. 
He was kennel editor of Forest and 
Stream from 1881 to 1892. He 
hunted prairie chicken and wild- f owl 
in Ioiva during the years 1853-4 and 
the present story is reminiscent o] 
an incident that happened at that 
time. [Editors ] 
unreasonable, so in this instance I 
drew the line at the gun but I compro- 
mised the matter by proposing to Mary 
to go after the chickens with me for I 
had never seen or ever heard of a 
woman who could shoot on the wing and 
was very desirous to witness this per- 
formance. 
Mary was delighted and at once ac- 
cepted my invitation, said she was 
ready and told me of a big “gang” of 
chickens that “used” a wheat stubble 
she pointed out to me about a quarter 
of a mile from the house and bidding me 
come along she started at a brisk walk 
toward the place. 
This took me by surprise for I had 
noted the bare feet and legs and could 
hardly believe that she would venture 
out on the prairie without some protec- 
tion against the coarse prairie grass, to 
say nothing of snakes, but I soon 
learned that she was dead game, ac- 
customed to the grass and stubble, and 
was not afraid of snakes. A few steps 
brought us to the unbroken prairie 
when I sent on old Flora, for at this 
time of day chickens were usually to be 
found in the grass instead of in the 
wheat stubble. 
Mary had never seen a bird dog at 
work and she asked me more questions 
than I had ever before heard in so short 
a time. When Flora struck scent and 
came to a point the countenance of my 
companion underwent a change that 
fairly bewildered me. I had been great- 
ly amused at the kaleidoscopic changes 
that played upon her features while she 
was firing that volley of queries at me, 
but when she saw old Flora straighten 
out on point she suddenly stopped and 
stood there like a stature, her form 
erect, with her head bent a trifle for- 
ward, a new light in her eyes, a deeper 
color on her sun-browned cheeks as with 
parted lips and outstretched arms she 
gazed at the living picture, the very in- 
carnation of rapture and wondering 
admiration. 
I WAS deeply impressed with her per- 
formance and stood watching her for 
some little time until the dog drew 
on a few steps and again pointed, when 
my statue returned to life and with 
every feature of her countenance ex- 
pressively working she turned to me and 
in eager impassioned tones exclaimed, 
“My! ain’t it grand! Give me the 
gun!” 
Without a word I handed it to her 
when with eager steps she walked in 
front of the dog and as a chicken rose 
she coolly brought the gun to her shoul- 
der and tumbled it in faultless style. At 
the report of the gun seyeral others got 
up all around her and I am sorry to say 
my ideal Diana got rattled for she put 
on to a bird, and as she pulled for it she 
shifted to another one and scored a 
miss. This made her mad and she met- 
aphorically kicked herself all around the 
lot, scolding and sputtering like a little 
vixen, taking all the blame upon herself 
which plainly showed me that she was 
not a true sportswoman, as the term is 
generally understood, for among the 
honorable guild the proper thing to do 
under such circumstances is to blame 
the gun or ammunition. 
When I thought she had abused her- 
self about enough I solemnly told her 
that I would not marry her for fear that 
she might take to jawing me when I 
failed to score. This effectually put a 
stop to further ill-natured comment, and 
for the remainder of the day she never 
uttered a word that was not as sweet- 
tempered as one could wish. Even her 
three or four misses were greeted with 
a smile and jesting word, and she 
showed that she well knew the way to a 
(CONTINUED ON PAGE 231) 
