( JAN 1.3 1$3A J 
Forest and Stream 
$3 a Year, 10 Cts. a Copy. 
Six Months, $ 1 . 50 . 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, JANUARY 10, 1914 
VOL. LXXXII.—No. 2 . 
22 Thames St., New York. 
Big Game Hunting For Poor Men. 
Being a Treatise on How a Salaried Man Living in New York City May Spend a Two Weeks’ Vacation, Enjoy Himself, and 
Secure a Deer, All For Fifty Dollars or Less. 
By D. M. HERMALIN 
I T was more than two years ago when I de¬ 
cided that I was entitled to be graduated 
from small game hunting and be promoted 
to big game department. 
Knowing almost nothing about the subject, 
I began to make inquiries. I was told that a 
man living in New York city, who desired to 
become a hunter of big game, must, necessarily, 
devote at least two weeks’ time during the sea¬ 
son to this sport. This I could easily accom¬ 
plish because the boss was willing to give me 
any two weeks in the year for my vacation. 
But, when I heard about the amount of money 
needed for such an expedition, I decided to give 
up my cherished plans. 
I made these inquiries at the offices of some 
sporting magazines. The tone of the replies 
made me think that the gentlemen at the in¬ 
formation bureaus took it for granted that any¬ 
body who desires to go out for big game is 
surely well-to-do, or at least capable of spending 
from one hundred dollars up. As for the poor, 
they were not in it. 
It is quite remarkable that in all the replies 
I received, the State of New York was not even 
mentioned. They began with Maine and ended 
with New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and New¬ 
foundland. 
I did not doubt for a moment that the game 
was there, and I would have been the happiest 
man to be able to go to one of these places, 
but when I began to think of what I had saved 
during the year for my vacation, and some of 
the things I needed, I decided to continue rabbit 
shooting on Long Island. 
I had to buy a rifle, a pair of moccasins, have 
at least $35 for railroad fare, pay for a non¬ 
resident license, hire a guide at four dollars a 
day, and then pay my own board bill. All this 
was beyond my means and I concluded that the 
poor had no right to be happy. 
True, the rifle would have to be bought only 
once, the moccasins might be good for another 
season, but what can one do with only $50 in his 
pocket? 
I found an advertisement of a camp on Cran¬ 
berry Lake, New York. The ad was quite at¬ 
tractive and promising. I decided to go there. 
Will fifty dollars be enough? That remained to 
be seen. 
The license, costing $1.10, which I used for 
duck shooting on the Island, was good for deer 
hunting in the Adirondacks. Fare, reduced for 
the hunting season to $10.25 for a round trip, 
trunk both ways $1.50, boat over Cranberry Lake 
both ways $2, a guide for four days at $3.75 per 
day, and $12 for a week’s board at Balderson, 
amounted to $40.75. I still had about $10 left. 
I shot my first deer, a spilcehorn buck, on 
the fourth day of my stay at the camp. That 
hunt I described in Forest and Stream, Feb. 24, 
1912. I remained until the end of the week and 
had enough money left to pay $1.92 for trans¬ 
portation of my quarry, take a sleeper, and reach 
my home in Brooklyn with sufficient money to 
buy some sweets for wifey and the kids. 
Was it hard to get a deer? There were 
plenty of them—more deer than hunters, but the 
white-tails were elusive and the city “sports” 
could not always shoot straight. It was a stand¬ 
ing shot that I got at my spikehorn, hence my 
success. 
The succeeding season brought me there 
again. I had a few excellent opportunities at 
deer, but I shot wild and returned home without 
venison. 
As usual, I kept on planning my next hunt¬ 
ing trip, during the whole year. But I decided 
that I must first of all reduce my expenses in 
some way or other, and then eradicate the stigma 
which rests on all sportsmen who hunt with 
guides. My decision was to hunt alone and find 
the game myself. 
I went to Wauakena once more and arrived 
there on the 18th of October, 1913. I did that 
after learning that at this time the leaves are al¬ 
most all off the trees which is a great advantage 
to the hunter. On my arrival I found a few old 
acquaintances and was informed that the woods 
were teeming with deer—there were more deer 
this year than in any of the last ten or fifteen. 
Forgetting my resolution, to hunt without a 
guide, I engaged one. The camp proprietor tried 
to tell me that I did not need a guide, that the 
country there is so situated that any man with 
common sense and a compass could not possibly 
be lost; moreover, I was no stranger and ought 
to have a fair knowledge of the hunting grounds. 
I went out with the guide. The only thing we 
did that day was to find a dead spikehorn shot 
through the brisket with a small caliber rifle. On 
the second day, I got two shots at a galloping deer 
at about 250 yards, and, of course, missed. When 
I reached camp in the evening, I was so tired I 
decided to take a rest and so dismissed the guide. 
The next day I spent in camp and toward 
evening one of the hunters, who was there only 
one day, brought in a fine buck, which he got 
about one mile from camp. 
Meanwhile I learned an interesting story. 
Whether fact or fancy is not the question now, 
but they are telling the following around Cran¬ 
berry Lake. A city “sport” who has hunted in 
