A Little Talk About Sport 
Wherein Will Be Found Many “ How To’s ” by One Who Knows 
By Theodore Gordon. 
W HEN a man expresses his opinions in re¬ 
gard to sport, and his personal prefer¬ 
ence for one sort or another, one is apt to 
gain an insight into his temperament, disposition 
and the nature of his experience. But when the 
love of sport is innate, or inbred, from our earli¬ 
est years, we are fond of all branches that we 
know, particularly those which we have been per¬ 
mitted to enjoy in our puppy days. We are given 
a rod and line before we are trusted with a gun 
or rifle, so that our earliest recollections of sport 
are usually associated with fishing—and the im¬ 
mense excitement of pulling out a small wrig¬ 
gling trout, sunfish, or chub. 
My nurse did not know how to tie a small hook 
to a fine line, so she stuck it on with red sealing- 
wax. This daub of red probably added to the 
natural attractiveness of the worm bait, as, in 
spite of childish awkwardness, a small silvery 
fish was at once yanked through the air. This 
one capture was enough joy for that day, or 
rather the wish to take the prize to my mother 
prevailed over any desire for further slaughter. 
The longing for a real gun of one’s own becomes 
very strong at ten years of age, as by that time 
the boy has seen some shooting in the field and 
has been allowed to fire a few shots at easy 
marks under the care and direction of grown-up 
sportsmen. In two or three years he is strong- 
enough to handle a weapon effectively and begins 
shooting in earnest. All American boys play 
baseball, hockey, ride, swim, row and sail a boat, 
if they are lucky, but shooting and fishing are 
different. They are the real sports, and if you 
ask a boy which he prefers his answer will be in¬ 
fluenced by the season of the year and the game 
or fish that may be in his neighborhood or with¬ 
in his reach in one way or another. 
He begins to long for trout fishing in January 
and the saving of pocket money for necessary 
tackle is a serious matter. His purchases are 
made weeks in advance, and he would love to 
spend the day in the shop studying its endless 
treasures. The night before the season opens he 
is so much excited that he sleeps but little. The 
weather may be atrocious, rain, hail, snow and 
wind may greet him in the morning, but fish he 
must. (I remember taking 38 trout with fly 
while snow was falling on a cold “All Fools 
Day.”) The boy’s early experience in shooting 
game are quite as exciting and important. His 
first quail, woodcock and snipe are gold medals 
proving his skill. He can shoot “On the wing.” 
His first ruffed grouse almost scares him; it 
seems as big as a turkey. Ducks are large game. 
They are so wary that his heart almost breaks 
before he succeeds in bagging one or two. He 
carries them in such a way that every one may 
see and admire. I am afraid that many of his 
earlier successes are due to kind fortune, good 
luck, not skill. He stumbles upon the game and 
blazes away. He kills difficult shots and misses 
easy ones. 
I remember missing two fat woodcock that 
flushed at my feet. While almost weeping be¬ 
cause I could not find them again, I stumbled 
upon the bank of a large stream and within easy 
range of a bunch of particularly wild mallards, 
which had been much hunted. The gun was fired 
somehow, before it was too late, and a splendid 
drake splashed back from on high. 
We had such a variety of sport and the seasons 
for shooting and fishing were long. Nearly al¬ 
ways there was something in view. I fancy that 
the best sport was where there was a little of 
everything and not much of anything. It is not 
so much the abundance of game, but its quality 
and the difficulties in the way of bringing it to 
bag. Again—large game may be quite plentiful 
yet the nature of the country such that still hunt¬ 
ing is rarely successful. I remember tramping 
all day among the hills, in a pouring rain, in a 
desolate country. I fancied that deer were scarce 
until my return through a neck of the great 
swamp, 4V2 miles wide at this point. Here I 
found the fresh tracks of 13 deer and 3 panthers 
(puma or mountain lion). One of the latter was 
an immense fellow, which I trailed to the top of 
a little rise in the swamp where there was a big 
ant hill. He had used this to get a better view of 
his surroundings, and the prints of his fore feet 
were perfect. He was a buster, but such chaps 
are rarely abroad in the day time. A good pack 
of dogs would start much game in such a coun¬ 
try, but the going was frightfully bad and the 
swamp 30 miles long. 
Upon the whole I fancy that the best sport 
with the gun is to be enjoyed with a brace of 
noble, well trained setters or pointers, in a coun¬ 
try fairly well stocked with a variety of game 
birds. One must work his own dogs and find 
the game himself, to have the best of this; guides 
and gamekeepers are not to be desired. A friend 
of mine who owned several of the best dogs in 
the United States was forced to leave them at 
home, because of distemper in his kennels. We 
were shooting woodcock during a big flight, and 
I did my best in the worst covers with the dogs, 
giving him lots of shooting. 
He said that he should have had a large bag 
but that the absence of his dogs spoiled his pleas¬ 
ure and put him off in his shooting. (He was a 
very fine shot.) Rarely have I seen so many 
woodcock, and it was perhaps as well that we 
had but a short afternoon with them. Enough 
is enough, but it is hard to quit on such occa¬ 
sions. We work hard for days sometimes, for 
a few shots and a brace or so in the bag. In fact, 
I have, of late years, put in whole days, without 
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