726 
away with ease. Many stunts were performed 
that were marvels to me. The last, however, was 
incredible, nevertheless, it really did happen. A 
whiskey barrel was started rolling down the 
incline of the bayou. The bung had been remov¬ 
ed from it. As the barrel revolved on its rapid 
journey down the slope, the bung-hole would 
show up for a moment on each revolution, and 
these Mississippi “Swamp Ikes,” as they are 
called, hit the bung-hole, as but one hole in the 
barrel would attest. Rice birds were flying by in 
flocks. One of the party challenged another to 
kill two birds at one shot out of a drove. This 
could only be done by catching two of the birds 
crossing or flying one above the other. These 
contestants shot several times before the feat 
was performed, but at last it was done. I do not 
know whether from accident or actual design, 
but two birds came fluttering down at the crack 
of the gun. 
While the shooting was going on, beer, gin and 
whiskey was flowing freely and the wagers made 
were of this kind. As they warmed up each 
would be looking for something more difficult to 
shoot. When they finally quit, they were shoot¬ 
ing at flying grass-hoppers, snake doctors, etc. 
On the day we were to start on our hunt, my 
brother was called away on business and not 
wishing to disappoint me, he asked one of his 
friends to take me out and show me a deer. 
This friend, a Mr. L., I will call him, lived up the 
bayou, which is equivalent to say, in our coun¬ 
try, up the pike or road, as the bayou is the 
principal highway. The delta of Mississippi is 
as flat as a floor and the bayou is a depression 
in the flat. In the rainy season, it is in flood and 
flat-boats may travel for miles on its waters, 
pushed up by small steamers and allowed to float 
back to 'the mighty river loaded with cotton. In 
the dry season, it is but a mere trickling stream 
that one can easly step across if the mud ap¬ 
proach be not too soft. A road always follows the 
bayou as far as civilization goes. Frequently, it 
is crossed by corduroy bridges made of fence 
rails—merely temporary passageways built in 
the dry season and intended to last only till this 
season is over. 
Mr. L. lived some ten miles up Cassidy Bayou, 
and I, mounted on an old gray horse and he on 
a little brown mule, left the little town about n 
o’clock that morning, for his home arriving there 
about one in the afternoon. We left town with¬ 
out the mid-day meal and when we arrived, I was 
in need of fuel for the inner man. 
Mr. L. lived in the back woods, at that time. 
He was just on the edge of the wilderness. He 
was a bachelor and did his own cooking. It was 
rough and, to me almost uneatable. The menu 
was rancid salt pork and turnip greens. For 
bread he had soda biscuit—the skyscraper kind— 
the nile green kind. Those biscuit must have 
been six inches thick. I could not swallow them 
or the greens and bacon. Oh, you are lucky if 
you have never struck a Mississippi back-woods 
country dinner when you had your appetite with 
you. I had mine with me and I haven’t gotten 
over pitying myself yet. I did the best I could 
and managed to fill up a little on some cold boiled 
sweet potatoes. 
Mr. L. said we must hurry, as it would take 
all the evening to reach the place in which he 
wished to hunt. I bolted as much of the potato 
as I could in a limited time, but left the table 
FOREST AND STREAM 
hungry. Mr. L. packed up a lunch for our sup¬ 
per and breakfast the next morning and I shud¬ 
dered. 
On the way to camp we crossed that bayou 
about six times and each time on one of those 
corduroy bridges. The further we got from 
civilization, the more careless were the bridges 
made. My old gray horse, who’s name was Don, 
but on this trip, should have been Hesitation, 
balked at these bridges and I did not blame him. 
I went over the first one on his back, but the 
others, I crossed on foot. Mr. L.’s brown mule 
was a wonder. I asked for his pedigree on see¬ 
ing some of his performances. “Sire, SquirreJ 
—Dam, Rabbitt,” was his laconic answer. I did 
not see that mule climb a tree, but know he could 
have done it had incentive been offered. He ne¬ 
gotiated all of those bridges with his rider up, 
just as easy as a cat. On some of them the rails 
were a foot apart and they were not fixed down 
by nails, either. I went over 'the first one on the 
back of my old gray, but my heart was in my 
mouth, my feet out of the stirrups, ready to do 
the flying-squirrel act at a moment’s notice. 
We arrived at our camp about dark without 
mishap or adventure. I say camp, I mean just 
stopped in the woods when dark came upon us. 
It was drizzling rain and we built a fire under a 
large pecan tree. There was no shelter from the 
drizzle and I began to speculate on how we would 
Hurt, Va. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In your last issue I noticed your comments on 
the Hart-White game bill, which failed to pass 
our general assembly, in which you do our state 
a great injustice; as we have now a modern game 
law, in fact so good a one that the men who 
sought to fasten the vicious Hart-White bill on 
this people could not improve it, but adopted 
nearly every section, and incorporated them in 
their bill, only making such changes as would 
give them complete control of our game supply, 
by cutting off all shooting possible, so as to ena¬ 
ble them to handle our game for commercial pur¬ 
poses under the export clause inserted in their 
bill. 
Before our next general assembly meets, the 
manipulation of the Hart-White game trust 
measure will be fully exposed and our present 
game laws strengthened by a mutual understand¬ 
ing between the farmers and sportsmen of this 
state. 
It has become the joke of the age for a con¬ 
cern dealing in game to come into our state and 
spend hundreds of dollars in an alleged effort to 
protect our game, while offering a bill to our gen¬ 
eral assembly under which they can realize 
thousands of dollars yearly. 
These men not only offered this bill, but were 
so sanguine of its passage that they had one of 
their local representaitves slated for the job of 
commissioner, and others for good fat jobs under 
its provisions. And while it may go hard with 
these slated gentlemen who were the pets of the 
New York syndicate not to realize their heart’s 
desire, and feed from the public crib, the people 
of Virginia see no necessity for being mulcted 
from fifty to one hundred thousand dollars a 
year, when our game is so plentiful that most 
make out. I soon learned. Mr. L. was using one 
of those old salt-and-pepper, gray, anti-bellum 
shawls or blankets for a saddle blanket. It was 
made of wool—all wool—the best of wool. A 
quick camp was made—two forked stakes— 
ridge pole—four corner stakes—the gray blanket 
•—presto—a camp, and it didn’t leak a drop. A 
saddle for a pillow. Wet leaves for bedding and 
if I had been full of good “grub,” I could have 
said “Amen” as loud as any other deacon. 
We talked awhile and then turned in. Mr. L. 
was asleep and snoring in a few minutes, but I 
—not used to the novelty—lay awake most of the 
night. About two o’clock I was stampeded by an 
unearthly yell, which seemed to come from out¬ 
side the tent, right at my head. Panic seized 
me. I jumped straight up, lit on my feet and 
bolted, upsetting the shawl covering and bring¬ 
ing the whole down on my sleeping companion, 
but not on me for I was a hundred feet away 
by the time the debris got to the ground. I 
was making good time when I brought 
up sharply against a tree-trunk. I saw a 
few stars and my first “think” was that the Devil 
had me. Just then the yell came again and I 
would have sworn that it was right beside me or 
that the owner of the yell was. I broke back 
to the fire and was greeted with “watinthunders- 
matter,” by my half asleep companion. 
(To be concluded). 
any sportsman can, in a day’s shooting in most 
any section not too near our large cities, put up 
from twelve to twenty-five bunches of quail a 
day. 
This bill was intended to array farmers and 
sportsmen against one another and break up 
shooting in Virginia, and had it passed, sports¬ 
men might as well have sold their dogs and 
guns, as 'but little shooting would have been al¬ 
lowed. But thanks to those forty-seven good and 
true sons of old Virginia in the lower house of 
our general assembly, who had the interest of 
our state at heart and could neither be wielded 
nor bulldozed, but voted as their conscience dic¬ 
tated, we were saved from this incubus. 
W. T. MITCHELL. 
AUTO FOE OF GAME BIRDS. 
That the automobile is the greatest foe to the 
successful propagation of game birds is the opin¬ 
ion that was brought out prominently by the 
North Dakota game and fish board of control. 
At Grand Forks, Devils Lake and Minot 
sportsmen who appeared before the commission 
maintained that the auto has made possible 
greater ease in hunting; that unsportsmanlike 
auto owners molest nests in the breeding season 
by driving through fields, and that coveys are 
early broken up. Considerable sentiment was 
found in favor of a later open season for prairie 
chickens. 
FISH FOR RUTLAND. 
Over 60,000 trout fry were received at Rut¬ 
land, Vt., recently from the state fish hatchery 
at Roxbury and distributed immediately on ar¬ 
rival. Chittenden pond and its tributaries receiv¬ 
ed 30,000 and 30,000 were placed in the Furnace 
brook at Pittsford. 
Calls Hart-White Bill a “Joke” 
