and wild country to get their “winter meat,” for 
that is what it is to many. 
The black bear is a nuisance in many parts of 
Essex county, where the farmer’s sheep folds 
are often visited by them. In some remote parts 
sheep-raising has practically ceased, owing to at¬ 
tacks from these cunning animals. The angry 
shepherd finds the skins of two or three of his 
best spring lambs lying in the bushes near where 
the flock slept the previous night. The pelts in 
such cases are “skinned out” as neatly as a knife 
could have done the work. It is not so very safe 
either for a little boy or girl to go off berrying 
alone in bear-infested lands, as these lamb- 
snatching animals abound in summer where 
blackberries and blueberries are thickest. 
The pheasant referred to is one of twelve half- 
grown birds sent to Eagle Lake last summer by 
the Conservation Commission. One little colony 
of six was put out, or “turned down,” as the 
phrase goes, on the south shore of Eagle Lake 
near the island bridges. These were frequently 
seen, but finally worked back toward the Pyra¬ 
mid Club grounds, famous for grouse, or to the 
farms out Paradox Lake way, six miles to the 
west. The other covey was set free near the 
Eagle Lake Hotel. Three of them roosted in the 
woods back of the garden, where it was thirty 
miles to the south before you reach a human 
habitation. They would fly down to the garden 
early each morning to get corn from the gener¬ 
ous proprietor until late in October, when they 
grew to be as large as a small turkey. 
A jealous barnyard rooster killed one hen 
pheasant, and one day the remaining pair was 
wantonly shot by two auto shooters, as the 
birds were crossing the hotel lawn for their 
afternoon “nip” of cold lake water. These 
“sports” carelessly tossed their prey into the car 
and were off like the wind. No trace of these 
birds could ever be found, although there is a 
standing reward of fifty dollars offered by the 
local association for these men’s capture. In 
September I saw a pheasant out of this bunch of 
six. She stood on a stone in front of Mr. Hall’s 
place near the old mill on Creek road. She was 
seen also by a naval officer now on duty at 
Brooklyn Navy Yard. The bird was as tame as 
a chicken. She then flew across the creek over 
towards Hefferd’s farm. 
People seem to think that the very tameness 
of these hen-reared pheasants will make it hard 
for them to be raised. It seems to me that this 
is really an advantage, because they can be better 
guarded, like my friend’s specimen. It would 
fare hard with anyone who would try to take his 
pet “Chicken,” the first one of the kind ever 
seen in Ticonderoga, and from which he hopes 
to raise a nice bunch this summer by procuring 
a hen mate. 
The sheet which newspaper readers hold in 
their hands each day is made of wood. If one 
looks closely the little wood fibers can be seen, 
especially in the margins where printing does not 
obscure them. The larger part of the wood so 
used is ground up, while some of it is reduced 
by the’action of chemicals. The chemical pulp 
has the longer fibers and a certain proportion of 
it is added to the ground wood to give the fin¬ 
ished paper the required toughness. 
FOREST AND STREAM 
THE LAST PENNSYLVANIA ELK. 
Editor Forest and Stream: In the issue of 
Forest and Stream of January 24, 1914 , by a typo¬ 
graphical error I am made to say in an article 
that the last elk killed in Pennsylvania was in 
1864 by Jim Jacobs, an Indian. The date should 
have been printed as in 1867. Elk County, Penn¬ 
sylvania, was erected in 1843 and was so named 
on account of its wilderness and great droves of 
elks that formerly and then roamed in those 
wilds. This new county was composed entirely 
of the forest portions of Clearfield, Jefferson, 
Warren and McKean Counties. In this territory 
were then about all the elk of Pennsylvania, and 
the slaughter of them commenced in 1843 and 
continued annually until 1852. There was one 
elk killed in 1862, one in 1866, reported as killed 
in 1869. The one reported as killed in 1874 was 
shot in Warren County in the thirties and the 
horn trophies of this one were presented in 1846 
to the Reynolds family of Meadville, Pa. 
The home of the elk from 1843 to 1852 was 
Elk Mountain (now Boone), Elk Creek, Little 
Toby, Spring Creek, now called Hallton, Beech 
Bottom and Portland on the Clarion River, for 
protection from the lightfooted wolves. In 
winter these animals always yarded on the Cla¬ 
rion. The reason the elk lived on this river was 
that he was a great bather and enjoyed spending 
his summers on the bank and on sultry days 
bathing in that river. Cattaraugus Indians and 
white hunters of New York state and our local 
hunters camped in that county every winter up to 
1850 to hunt elk. In the winter of 1852 a drove 
of twelve elks yarded on the Clarion near Ridg- 
way. Two Indians came in that winter from 
the Cattaraugus Reservation and killed seven of 
this drove. This was the last yard of elks in 
Elk County, Pennsylvania. 
Jim Jacobs, who killed the last elk, in Novem- 
ver, 1867, was a full blooded Seneca Indian and 
a very intelligent man. He settled in Tunagu- 
want Valley in 1838, where the city of Bradford 
now is, and was living there in 1867, the year he 
killed the last elk in the Clarion Region and the 
last one killed in Pennsylvania. Jacobs died in 
1880. It might be well for me to say here, 
I carried the mail on horseback from Brookville 
to Ridgway, a distance of 45 miles, in 1852. I 
worked as a jour printer on the Elk County Advo¬ 
cate in Ridgway from June, 1854, to September, 
1856. I boarded with Lebbeus Luther, a great 
hunter, during that time. In 1851 and 1852 
Caleb Dill of Ridgway advertised in the Advo¬ 
cate as follows: 
ELK WANTED. 
For a living male elk one year old I will 
give fifty dollars; two years old, seventy- 
five dollars; three years, one hundred 
dollars; and for a calf three months 
old, twenty-five dollars. 
In January, 1855, I carried the mail on horse¬ 
back from Ridgway to Warren through a wil¬ 
derness of forty-five miles. I had to start from 
Ridgway on Friday night at 9 o’clock, ride 
through the woods to Montmorenci, six miles, 
and stop there all night. A family by the name 
of Burrows lived here. I stopped on Saturday 
in Highland for dinner with Townleys. There 
were living in that township then, Townley, 
Wells, Ellithorpe and Campbell. I arrived in 
Warren after dark Saturday and stayed over 
307 
night at the Carver House. I returned on Sun¬ 
day from Warren to Ridgway at 9 P. M. 
I was born in this wilderness, and as a mail 
boy rode all over it. As a doctor I rode all 
through Elk County, night and day, from 1857 
to 1867. During my life I have dined, supped 
and companioned with all the great hunters of 
Jefferson and Elk Counties. They are all gone— 
gone—gone. W. J. McKNIGHT. 
Brookville, Pa., March 3, 1914. 
DEER HUNTING IN MANITOBA. 
By J. D. A. Evans. 
During the last few months the writer has 
been in receipt of communications from sports¬ 
men in New York, referring to the opportunities 
for deer hunting in Manitoba. 
At the outset let it be remarked that in the’ 
ordinary climatic conditions accruing to that 
Province, the open season is accompanied by 
ideal qualifications conducive to the sport’s suc¬ 
cess. The year 1913 was, however, extraordi¬ 
nary, snowfall in absentia. 
The caribou, elk and moose have passed through 
the strenuous days, of their annual warfare, 
without much detriment to the ranks. 
To enumerate localities in Manitoba to which 
sportsmen travel would be problematic. Mani¬ 
toba is a country vast in dimension; the bush 
areas of her domain are immense. In the north¬ 
ern reaches of Lake Winnipeg, the forest den¬ 
sity is practically untrodden by the pale face, save 
the intrepid trapper, and the employe of the 
company trading into Hudson’s Bay. Herein 
roam the deer family; they thrive in abundance 
amidst the wild woods of Keewatin. The sports¬ 
man has, however, up to the present confined his 
attention to districts more accessible to civiliza¬ 
tion. In the majority of instances, localities 
within reasonable distance of the city of Winni¬ 
peg have been invaded with rifles; to wit, dis¬ 
tricts within the tamarac swamps of southeastern 
Manitoba; the territory known as Riding Moun¬ 
tains; certain sections of the central portions 
of the Province. Granted that fair depth of 
snow is present, the trio of grounds in refer¬ 
ence yield good return. For first-class sport, the 
fastnesses of Lake Winnipeg are without equiva¬ 
lent. The season of 1913 was disastrous to the 
pursuit, yet years may elapse ere Manitoba’s 
prairie lands are minus snow in December, her 
forest glades not decked in garment of white. 
It may be assumed that when the returns 
enumerating the number of animals obtained by 
licencees are received by the chief game guar¬ 
dian, that astute official will realize that that 
number augurs exceeding favorable for the sea¬ 
son of 1914. Manitoba’s regulations for deer 
hunting render compulsory a special permit, 
which must be procured by non-residents of the 
Province. The cost of this license obtainable 
at the Department of Agriculture, Government 
Buildings, Winnipeg, is twenty-five dollars. A 
resident must furnish himself with the necessary 
legal requirement, for which a fee of two dol¬ 
lars is enacted. A fresh regulation relative to 
specified wearing apparel for sportsmen was 
adopted on December 1st. The garb is now white 
sweater and cap, a precaution which, it was con¬ 
sidered, would greatly minimize the danger of 
accidents. Few, none with serious result, marked 
the close of the last open season. 
From returns issued by the Department, it is 
learned that licenses for 1913 were much in ex¬ 
cess of any previous year. 
