Oct. 18, 1913. 
FOREST AND STREAM 
491 
THE RETURN TO CAMP. 
blest—everybody answered to roll call at break¬ 
fast, of which we made short work, and then 
to business. 
We all started out together hunting along 
the western edge of Crane swamp. After a time 
Sport and Dinah, Mr. Melton’s dogs, worked off 
into the swamp a mile or more and their master 
followed. 
The rest trailed about for some time, but 
were unsuccessful in finding anything, and not 
knowing where Mr. Melton was, we all went 
back to camp, and while preparing dinner heard 
his rifle crack seven times. 
He was so far in the swamp that we could 
not hear his call for assistance, so after an hour 
or two he dragged the two deer, which he had 
killed, into some high bushes, and hanging them 
up the best he could, came to camp for help. 
After dinner we carried in his deer and the 
dogs iumped several more, but no one else got 
a shot that day. 
Wednesday morning three of our party tak¬ 
ing two hounds went to the vicinity where the 
two deer were killed. The rest took the other 
two hounds and went further south in the 
swamp. We had hardly got on the inside of 
the swamp when each dog struck trail and soon 
had deer going. Mr. Lobdall, of Miami, secured 
a fine buck, the first he had ever killed, but no 
other deer came within range, so we reluctantly 
gave up the chase and solaced ourselves with 
dinner. 
Wednesday afternoon all left camp together 
going a little further south than any of us had 
been in the morning, taking all the hounds with us. 
The dogs struck trail on the open pine woods 
in sight of our camp. Supposing it to have been 
a turkey, we let them all go and kept in gun 
shot of them, expecting the turkey to get up at 
any minute. 
They trailed entirely across the pine island, 
and into the swamp where they jumped a deer. 
After they had run out of hearing, Mr. Melton, 
seeing some fresh deer signs on a little island, 
let the puppy go, and in a very few minutes he 
jumped a fine deer and killed it, then called for 
help to get it out. 1 started to him, wading 
water, with my gun on my shoulder, not looking 
for or expecting a deer, but it is the unexpected 
that happens, and one jumped up directly in 
front of me not over twenty yards away and 
made for some high saw grass some fifteen or 
twenty yards from where it got up, where it 
would have been entirely hidden from sight if 
my faithful rifle, veteran of many hunts, had 
not spoken just in time, and it fell dead in the 
saw grass. 
No lingering around the camp-fire that 
night. Everyone was glad to roll up in his 
blanket and rest tired bones. Thursday morning 
all started out together taking all the dogs, and 
went still further south for a final hunt. We 
separated on going into the swamp. Hadfield, 
Lobdall and Pappy with two dogs starting in 
first, and jYIelton and I with the other two dogs 
going further down. 
The dogs were soon all trailing deer. Mr. 
Pappy’s jumped theirs and raced away toward 
the north, no one getting a shot. In the mean¬ 
time I had jumped one, but it was a very long 
shot, and the deer was heading straight for 
Melton, so I could not shoot, but called to him 
to look out and soon heard his rifle. Going to 
him I found he had secured a fine doe. 
One of Mr. Pappy’s hounds had failed to 
return, so all the party joined in a fruitless 
search for him, and were finally compelled to 
strike camp and start home without him. 
The journey home was ecpial to the wan¬ 
derings of the children of Israel. We drove 
all night through the woods. In many places 
there were no roads at all. My! what a jolt 
when we hit an unexpected cypress knee. Man! 
what a yell! Only a wildcat, but say I'd rather 
meet ’em in the day time. 
‘‘Here, if I can't go to sleep, 1 11 be blest 
if you shall." 
‘‘Pappy, if you call up any owls to-night 
we’ll put you out and leave you." 
‘‘You, Susanna Sue, hump along.” 
But it’s all in the game. Jolly good fellows, 
all of them, and we won't forget that hunt soon. 
They reached home at 5 o’clock Friday 
morning—and here, Mr. Stones, you may take 
a back seat and I have the platform, because al¬ 
though I may not understand hammerless rifles 
or the proper range of deer, I know all about 
kitchen ranges and hammerless roasters—and 
“they say” the Christmas roast was a triumph! 
The dog? Oh, yes, he came back after the 
exodus that night and joined another party of 
hunters who returned him to Mr. Pappy a week 
or two afterward. 
An Amateur. 
Old Captain Kidd was a pirate bold 
Who sailed on the raging main. 
He made all his victims walk the plank 
And ravaged the sea for gain. 
He laid up a store of gold doubloons 
And buried it in the sand. 
At pirating in that ancient day, 
His was the master hand. 
Old Captain Kidd had a lot to learn, 
An amateur pirate, he, 
As he hoisted his banner and sailed away, 
The scourge of the deep blue sea. 
A piker at getting rich was Kidd, 
A tyro and ne’er-do-well. 
Throughout his career he never ran 
A summer resort hotel. 
— Chicago Evening Post. 
