Dec. 6, 1913 - 
FOREST AND STREAM 
721 
served the day. had a mess of fish, and had ex¬ 
perienced a new sort of outing, though I can't 
say that I had exactly enjoyed it Thankful was 
I for the heavy coat, as it was I was nearly frozen 
before T reached the barn, where quite a group 
of men were waiting to give me the laugh, 1 
believe the recording angel will forgive me if I 
D IOGENES, candle in hand, searching for 
an honest man, had no greater problem 
than the New York City shooter, armed 
with a license, gun and ammunition, looking for 
good shooting near the metropolis. 
Since the season opened, our field representa¬ 
tives have followed up one tip after another, only 
to find in most cases “good shooting” was a child 
of the imagination of a progressive hotel pro¬ 
prietor. 
However, there are a few “real” shooting 
places not too far away for a week end. Within 
a few hours of New York City, we find Cossa¬ 
yuna Lake, where ruffed grouse, woodcock and 
rabbit are found in goodly numbers. An excep¬ 
tionally good shot will get the limit each day, 
while the average shooter will get all he expects. 
The country is hilly, -brushy and well treed, thus 
giving the game every opportunity to get away. 
Cossayuna is reached by rail or boat to Troy, 
thence by trolley (three hours) or Boston and 
Albany, two hours, to Greenwich (N. Y.), thence 
by wagon or auto to the lake. At Cossayuna 
“The Oaks,” conducted by John Liddle, caters to 
sportsmen. Roy Smith, a genuine sportsman, will 
guide guests at the rate of $2.00 a day, and the 
man who cannot get his game with Roy is a sad 
shot. Food, beds and attention at Liddle’s are 
first class, while John and his genial partner have 
traveled east in the sportsmen's fraternity and 
will exert themselves to make guests at 'home, 
while Mrs. Riddle's housekeeping assures a table 
supreme. 
A bit nearer by, but not quite so good, is 
Wurtsboro, on the D. & H. Here the country is 
comparatively flat, hunting being more or less 
easy through hemlock and alder. The legal limit 
on a week-end shoot—not beyond expectation for 
a fair shot, provided your dogs are good on 
ruffed grouse and woodcock. Nobody can tell 
you the final name of the best guide in Wurts¬ 
boro, but his front name is Stub. Anybody can 
tell you where to find Stub, ’though it may be 
more difficult to find a suitable “'hotel” at which 
to put up. The village has a population in sum¬ 
mer of three thousand, while in .wintei a Pank- 
hufist rally, with Norman Hapgood selling copies 
of suppressed Sylvia as a side show, couldn’t 
drag out two hundred. The “burg” is full of 
summer “boardin’ ” houses, packed with ribbon 
told those fellows that every trout was caught 
on a fly, at any rate I hope he wilt. All the 
afternoon I sat by the kitchen range toasting 
my shins, though I did not get thoroughly warm 
for twenty-four hours. It was a unique experi¬ 
ence, but I do not know that I care to dupli¬ 
cate it. 
peddlers, but fortunately the counter jumpers' 
vacation comes at a time in the year when the 
shooting season is closed, else there is no telling- 
how many tennis rackets and ping pong bats 
might give way to Flobert rifles. To reach 
Wurtsboro, take Erie Railroad to Middletown, 
about two and one-half hours, then D. & H. 
There is a more or less hotel across from the 
depot, in the barroom of which many of the vil¬ 
lage fathers will be found at this season, throw¬ 
ing dice for turkeys, and mayhap Stub will be 
among the number; if not, ask the barkeep to 
send for him. 
Farther up on the Erie, along the Delaware 
River, one comes to any amount of good cover. 
Deposit, five hours from New York City, is espe¬ 
cially recommended for ruffed grouse and snow 
shoe hare, the latter abundant, the former plen¬ 
tiful enough for a good shot. As you leave the 
train at the monument where, the first spike was 
driven on the western division of the Erie, just 
cross the street and you strike the Loomis House, 
Ask Al. Loomis or John, the man of all trade, 
to find a guide for you. Probably you will get 
Soup Evans, who knows every bird cover in Dela¬ 
ware County. Soup’s only trouble is his quick¬ 
ness on the trigger and his loathness to allow 
the “guest” to have first crack. If you don’t find 
comfort at the Loomis House, slip two blocks 
down the main street, called Front Street, be¬ 
cause it runs in front of the town hall and most 
of the gin mills. Turning to 'the left, passing 
Putnam’s seed store, and baching up against Fred 
Wilcox’s livery stable, you just naturally turn 
into Jim Moran’s. 
Here is a cozy corner, where at the end of 
your day's shoot you will hear yarns of the do¬ 
ings of Charley and George and of the days when 
they used to charter a Pullman car for an even¬ 
ing’s jaunt to New York. When you have be¬ 
come surfeited with local lore, and want to get 
into the heart of the shooting territory, get a 
rig from Guy Austin and drive two miles out to 
Morris Axtell’s, on the south side, or to Whit. 
Brigg’s on the north side of the Delaware River. 
Both these hostelries are summer boarding 
houses, but will, upon urging, take in a lone 
party for a few days. Your comfort will be well 
taken care of, while a few minutes up the hill 
from either place will open good bird cover. 
When this section palls on you, stand by the 
roadside at four P. M. and hail the stage for 
Cannonsville. The village was not so named for 
the speed of the stage. It is worth while getting 
chummy with the driver, but don’t do it in the 
hip to mouth custom, because the old driver is 
fervidly temperate; a Methodist preacher who 
has found the “hos” more practical than the “gos” 
as a supplier of needs for the physical man. He 
loves his religion, hates rum, and hankers for a 
chance to get the best of the money changer or 
the hoss trader. He knows grouse covers like 
pickpockets know hock shops, but he won’t loosen 
unless he likes you well. There are a couple of 
good bird dogs in Cannonsville, of which the old 
ex-preacher can tell you, but there isn’t a good 
bird dog, either private or public, in Deposit, 
barring the show stock of Willis Sharp Kilmer, 
who has a preserve on the side of the best snow 
shoe hare mountain in Delaware or Broome coun¬ 
ties. Deposit is five hours from New York City, 
with a sleeper leaving Jersey City at midnight, 
arriving at the loneliest station in the world be¬ 
fore daylight, but your feeling of desolation 
soon will be dispelled with a cup of Loomis 
House coffee and a half-hour's drive through the 
crisp life-giving air on the picturesque road along 
the Delaware to Stilesville. A week-end in this 
country will put you back at your desk a new 
man. Of course, there is plenty of good grouse 
shooting in Sullivan County and the Adiron- 
dacks; but I have taken country little shot over 
and where the man who mistakes a moving bush 
for a flushed partridge is practically unknown. 
In other words, where you are sure of getting a 
bag without getting bagged. 
Shooting Game From An Automobile 
West Orange, N. J., Nov. 29 —Editor Forest 
and Stream: Away back in the early ’70s, when 
Forest and Stream was in swaddling clothes, a 
copy was placed in my hands with the remark 
“Here’s a Sportsman’s Journal worth reading.” 
Well, I listened to its lusty young voice, sym¬ 
pathized with its ideals, and have watched them 
come to at least partial realization without wav¬ 
ering in my sympathy and allegiance. 
Now don’t think that because of all these 
years I must be an “old man’’ and have laid aside 
the practical use of the rod and gun, and per¬ 
force am content to read what others are doing. 
No! I hope to have many years yet in which to 
enjoy at least a few days with the trout in the 
early summer and a couple of weeks with the 
birds in the fall. 
I have but recently returned from such a 
session with the birds and am so full to bursting 
with my experience that I must let off steam. 
May I? 
For the past twelve years I have made my 
range in northern New Jersey in about the wild¬ 
est part of Sussex County. Don’t laugh, for it 
is wild and often woolly, even if it is only fifty 
miles from the “big city.” 
I went up there on Nov. 5th with high ex¬ 
pectations for I had received reports from time 
to time that the grouse were unusually plentiful. 
Large numbers of broods and the broods full. 
Woodcock had been reported plentiful, but when 
1 reached there I found full bags had been shot 
but the flight had passed. I spent the few days 
before the opening of the grouse season looking 
for woodcock and carefully inspecting the situa¬ 
tion. The more I investigated and talked with 
the natives, the madder I got. On the opening 
day I tramped from six to eight miles over my 
favorite ground away from the numerous rabbit 
hunters, and I put up just three grouse. I found 
NONE in the near by covers. These three were 
so wild it would require a carefully trained dog 
with a nose one-half a mile long to point them. 
