With regard to the Forest and Stream editor's notion that the 
Woodcock is feeling with its bill Yfhen it thrusts it into the mud, 
it does not seem to me that it is at all certain, when one consid- 
ers the well-known fact that sounds are much more reacily trans- 
mitted through the medium of the cranial bones than directly 
through the air, as can readily be perceived if one holds a sonor- 
ous body between the teeth. Walter Faxon, letter of August 8, 
1889. 
Harry and I exchanged glances, 
ler’s countenances. 
“ Is there a train going toward Ph 
irry. 
“ Not until six o’clock a. m.” rep 
“ Well, we will take that,” I repl 
We lit our cigars, and, with feelin: 
ait daylight and the morning tra: 
oners would have been hard to tin 
raght struck me that this was no ] 
wman a landlord, and that it won 
circumstances would permit, sh 
ngaged him in conversation ; he d 
; ducking yarns, characteristic of 
5 rendezvous, to entice us to stay, 
d some trash ducks up on the ma 
■her and friends had remarked th 
thought as long as we were dowi 
y, and if not successful we could t 
dng ducks it was too soon, also, 
dge (a favorite sport) as they had 
s rivers yet. 
The term trash ducks, I subseque 
scies that fed on the marshes. 
We concluded to take his advice, 
played in getting ready after b 
eady been taken out of us — eons: 
g off. Not a duck did we see on 
3ek, and we were about turning b 
eks near the shore. 
‘ Harry,” I remarked, “paddle m 
bt, then I am ready for home.” 
Now, Harry, be it known, was an 
1 on the Delaware. Slowly we e 
thin thirty-five yards I let them h; 
•l they both keeled over. “Now 
( )ut saying, when, “ thunder an 
took there.’’ I did look. Black 
klards were getting up in every <j 
itinetively we shook hands, and h 
t md. Quietly we paddled our du 
bl silently and in whispers we laic 
If these ducks act as they do 1 
F e must drive them away, then v 
Firn, and I will show you some 
p see how the land lays, for there 
Ft they are feeding in.” 
^Phe tide was low and it had aln 
Wderable exertions we forced ou 
Stalls, the noise of which every 
e ncii of mallards, black ducks, tea 
®s numerous little ponds. 
Let them go,” says Harry, “ do 
it before night.” Every now ai 
“a splendid chance but we restra 
8< We succeeded at last in driving t 
ni s no easy task as they were very 
Bin disturbed much. Selecting tv 
regained our boat, and discove: 
“Yes, of course, and if it was ni 
e he is just the thing you want.” 
I bought him, and in a few days 
;s restless for the morning to daw 
quired treasure. I was too impat 
1 mule had been led up to the frc 
d I was just about starting, whe 
■ge flock of mallards had just lig 
e garden, not two hundred yards. 
With gun in hand, and my boy t< 
ading the dog. A fence running 
; excellent blind for me to creep u 
!,me before firing. Notwithstandii , 
|ok time to notice the dog ; he seei 
had hoped to see him inspired by 
Uowed along as unconcernedly as 
i. In a minute or two more I fou 
e the flock of ducks, and not n 
ere were seven or eight of them h 
make doubly sure, I rested my g 
ate aim and fired ; the result was, 
My dog dropped at the report, or 
hen I looked for him he was lying 
jpen leaf. Was it from fear? said i 
ent only ; thus I flattered myself u 
e dead ducks, and urged him to g ' 
knew but few dog words at that 
lere stood the dog looking me in 
What do you sa — y?” I began t( 
ver saw ducks before ; was this tl 
go for them? So I took up a piec 
iter close by them. At once he j 
ized the stick and brought it to m 
11 , now I was boiling over ; such i 
lieve lived ! I kept my temper, h< 
is with a lump of dirt. I thougl 
thing else, the dog would certair 
bring the duck; as soon as thedi 
jumped the dog, and absolutely 
ids, but not noticing them at a 
s search, he came back to me. I 
|ch a walloping I gave the beast, 
to the creek he plunged, swam to 
wn ou the bank looked at me. I 
Ihether or not, I did, and thus rid< 
is brute. 
On another occasion my sight was 
liculous mistake. I bought a nur 
ey were necessary, but I had moi 
oper thing to have all the most aj 
e sporting fraternity. These decc 
e evening, but the exact spot w 
low, so riding along the banks the 
sed to be a flock of ducks, and c 
ihort range, I fired ; not a bird mov 
y of them. I fired again, withsam 
; and firing two more barrels, to i 
en riddling my inoffensive decoys 
I often laugh when I think of my 
e brother of the manager of the 
, and as he was a constant hunter 
ih for miles around. He had sever: 
t with them was to be certain of 
nt he placed me on a stand, whi 
ough a small picket of swampy gr 
l not been felled, and where he 1 
the pea-field were in the habit o 
■t of the fence where I, was place 
uld run to get out in the forest 
;re that the tracks were plainly to 
ocked_the top, rails off in their f.re- 
To make a good bag of woodcocks requires a thorough knowl- 
edge of the feeding spots, and this can only be acquired by long 
experience. Comparatively speaking, ninety-nine sportsmen out 
of a hundred know nothing about this kind of hunting, and go 
stumbling through the timber, depending entirely on good luck 
and their dogs to find their game, and nine times out of ten come 
home with empty bags, whereas, if a little judgment was used 
and a glance taken at the soil and surroundings, plenty of birds 
might be found. South of this place and parallel with the P. F. 
W. & C. R. R., runs what is known as the Big Ditch. This ditch 
j is ab ?ht four miles long; the bank is used as a road, and is on 
'' tbe ri g bt or west side. On either side are large corn-fields and 
timber lots; on the west side and for two miles is, to all appear- 
ance, as fine a piece of ground and timber for woodcocks as there 
is in the world. The hunting here is magnificent, but to find 
what you hunt for is out of the question. I have never 
known but one bird to be killed on this side of the ditch, while 
on the east side, and within fifty yards of the ditch, and for its 
entire length, birds can be found, and bags from ten to forty 
made any day from J uly 4 until the first freezing weather, after 
which not a bird can be found ; all disappear in a single night. In 
the Fall of ’ 18, my friend, Joe H. Mack, of Chicago, and myself 
started one afternoon to get a few birds. We struck a corn-field 
which I was satisfied held birds, and so remarked to him. We 
put the dogs into the corn and such a getting out of woodcock I 
never saw before or since. It being late when we began shooting, ’ 
and having very little ammunition, it was necessary to hold close 
and shoot fast. The opportunity we made the best of, and we 
brought to bag forty-three fine plump birds. How many we left 
I am not able to 6 ay,but the number did not seem diminished when 
we quit. This being Mr. Mack’s first woodcock hunt, it was 
rather amusing to see him among them. A bird would get up 
behind him, one in front, and in fact all around. His gun would 
go up at this one, then at that one, and at last he would fail to ; 
shoot at any. “Confound the birds,’’ he remarked, “I don’t 
know which one to shoot at.” An hour’s drive brought us home. 
After supper, Mr. M. commenced loading shells for the morrow, 
making the remark that one hundred birds would be brought to 
bag during the day . An early start was suggested and agreed 
upon, and we retired for the night, thinking of the good time 
we would have on the morrow. During the night I heard a 
great rumpus in the directions of Mr. Mack’s bed-room. I 
listened for a moment, and found it came from Mack himself. 
‘ Stop that red thief, be stole one of my birds.” He evidently 
was dreaming about the hunt we had in the afternoon and of an 
incident that took place. The red thief being no other than my 
red setter Mack, who would pick up all the birds he could and 
bring them to me, no matter who killed them. Morning came, 
and we were soon on our way after Mr. Mack’s one hundred 
birds. “ Will bet you a pair of gum-boots you don’t get a bird 
to-day.” “ Well, I will, and if that red thief Mack comes around 
me to-day and steals my birds, I’ll cripple him.” Mr. Mack had 
misconstrued my meaning, for during the night it had frozen 
very hard and not a bird did we find the entire day, all having 
left for a more congenial clime. Killbuck. * l | 
The Chicago Field $4 a year; $2 for six months; $1 for 
three months. Three copies one year $9. 
