as he was in sight. I kept up my fusillade until 
he said that’s enough. I shot him five times 
and scored four hits. Then Mr. L. said, “I am 
surprised at you. You don’t get excited at all. 
I expected to see you shoot more at the sky 
than at the deer.” Later he had to change his 
mind, for, on the cessation of my bombardment, 
we walked or rather he did. for I ran as hard 
as I could to the still scrambling deer. Deer, in 
their death throes, are dangerous and before T 
reached him, Mr. L. called to me, not to get too 
close. T had come out of my mad spell enough 
by this time, to hear and heed, and my excitement 
was just beginning. By the time Mr. L. reached 
me and the deer, I was trembling like an aspen 
leaf. I was suffering from a severe attack 
of “buck-ager,” as it is called. I shall 
ever remember the feeling and would give 
a great deal to go through it again. 
My shake was a good one and Mr. L. had anoth¬ 
er good laugh. I laughed, too, but my teeth 
were chattering to such an extent that it sounded 
like a cackle. Mr. L. deemed it wise to relieve 
me of my gun. I did not get a good grip on my¬ 
self for half an hour. 
The deer was a five point buck and was the 
most beautiful animal I ever saw, either wild 
or domestic. He was in fine condition — as fat as 
could be — so clean and neat and without one 
wrinkle in his skin, as he lay prone upon the 
ground. I contrasted him with my wet, dirty, 
muddy self and the contrast was all in the deer's 
favor. I wondered how he could keep himself 
so clean in such muddy, dirty environments. 
His hoofs were as black as ebony and were 
polished to such a lustre that shadows were plain¬ 
ly seen in their surface. In color, he was almost 
black—a dull slate gray. His horns were small 
and palmated like those of an elk. Mr. L. said 
the species was very rare. 
I had my buck and now felt good over my 
luck. We butchered him, cutting off his head, 
taking out the entrails and then we thonged his 
feet, preparatory to carrying him to camp. Mr. 
L. cut a pole and ran it between this thonged 
feet. He then placed one end of it on my shoul¬ 
der and the other on his. We raised the body 
and I grasped the head by the horns and we 
made our start. At this time, I was a good fel¬ 
low and wanted to show my gameness by doing 
all that I could. I knew the load was much 
too heavy for me, but I resolved that I would 
not give up until I could go no * further. 
Twenty-five steps was as much as I could stand, 
for my knees gave way under me and sank 
slowly down until they rested in the soft earth. 
Mr. L. could not see my manful effort as he had 
his back to me, but I am sure he knew what was 
going on, for when the pole dragged over my 
shoulder, he turned and there was a dry grin on 
his face. I had to give up. I lacked about fifty 
steps of carrying him as far as I had killed him. 
Mr. L. then tried to carry the whole carcass on 
his shoulder, but it was too much for him. The 
deer, dressed, weighed about one hundred 
pounds. 
It was about three miles to camp and we dis¬ 
cussed what was best to do. Mr. L. finally said 
to me, “you go back to camp and get your horse 
and I will skin him out while you are gone.” I 
started for camp, but he called me back, saying, 
that I might get lost and that he had better go, 
which he did. Forgetting that I knew nothing 
FOREST AND STREAM 
of skinning a deer, he told me to do this while 
he was gone. He left me his hunting knife and 
I set to work. I soon found out that I was no 
butcher. I had never seen any of this work 
done before. I started at the shoulder and be¬ 
gan to hack and cut away the skin from the 
meat. There were many dry leaves on the 
ground and the gluten on the skin got on my 
hands and clothes—and as the skin gradually be¬ 
gan to come off it picked up the leaves and as I 
got in many positions, over, under, around and 
about the carcass, getting this gluten all over me, 
it picked up more leaves, until we, (the carcass 
and I) were a complete ball of them. When 
Mr. L. came back, he had another laugh and 
said he would never have found me had I not 
been moving around. 
Mr. L. was gone a long time, it seemed to me 
not more than two hours, however. But long 
enough for me to draw on my imagination and 
get lonesome and scarey. Then too, the buzzards 
had scented the kill and they gave me the creeps 
when their wings would sing a requiem over the 
meal they soon expected to enjoy. 
I had one other adventure while he was away. 
At times I would tire in the skinning and would 
sit and rest awhile. Then my eyes would wander 
about looking mostly in the direction from 
whence I expected him to come. Some fifty 
yards from me there was a tree covered heavily 
with a muscadine vine. From time to time, I 
saw it shake and I thought of his panther story. 
I could see nothing to cause it to vibrate from 
my position, so my curiosity and latent fear get¬ 
ting the best of me, I took my gun and went 
to investigate. I had not taken many steps 
when I saw a little, long, skinny, black arm reach¬ 
ing up, gathering the luscious grapes—a very 
Editor Forest and Stream :— 
In matters relative to wild game, California is 
in the transition period, and has approached the 
crisis that has, in turn, confronted practically 
every other state in the Union. As these other 
states have considered the matter and disposed 
of it in various forms it might be well to scru¬ 
tinize their methods of procedure. 
At present forty-seven states prohibit the sale 
of all or certain kinds of wild game. Twenty- 
one prohibit the sale of native wild game while 
twenty-six others and most of the provinces of 
Canada restrict the sale in various ways to dis¬ 
courage market hunting. Many of the states 
prohibit the sale of native game but allow the 
sale of those species shipped in and killed be¬ 
yond the border. Thus, most of the states where¬ 
in prairie chickens are found prohibit their 
sale, and ruffed grouse cannot be sold in any 
state or province along the Canadian border ex¬ 
cept Quebec. 
The sale and non-sale of wild game has been, 
and is, the most vexed question before every 
commission in every state having the protection 
and preservation of game under their control 
The man who cannot or does not hunt sees the 
matter from his standpoint, and that is one 
that emanates from his stomach. The man who 
does hunt, and utilizes his vacation periods with 
765 
few being still on the vine. A few steps further 
and I had a view of a little black bear cub gather¬ 
ing his breakfast. My heart jumped in my 
/nouth and I began to tremble just as I had done 
before I had killed the deer. I tried to wait 
until this would wear off, but, instead, it in¬ 
creased. Finally, I took the best aim I could 
and pulled the trigger. The little bear, at the 
crack of the gun. turned loose his hold on the 
vine and came tumbling head over heels to the 
ground. When he hit the same, he bounced up 
and like a cat turned over and iit on his feet. 
Away he went as hard as his legs would carry 
him. He was in the canes before I had time 
to think. I had missed him clear. 
Mr. L. and I now, finished skinning the deerV 
We cut him up and packed the cuts in a sack he 
had brought for the purpose. Placing the sack 
across the old gray horse, we were soon in camp. 
Mr. L. wanted to go immediately for home, but 
I put my foot down and vetoed this arrange¬ 
ment. I was hungry and I would not start on 
a ten mile journey until I had some filling; so 
we built a fire and began cooking deer ribs. I 
believe I ate ten pounds. Talk about something 
good. Just put all the good things you ever ate 
in all your life together and you will gain some 
idea of my meaning. That meat came as near 
melting in one’s mouth as any ever did. 
After the meal, I felt good plumb down to 
my toes. We rested for a while and then 
boarded our respective nags and I arrived at my 
brother’s place before night, the happiest boy 
in seventeen states. I had the head and horns— 
the skin with four holes in it as proof. I have 
those horns to this day and money could not buy 
them. 
his gun in the fields and forests, sees 'the mat¬ 
ter from his standpoint, and there the stomach 
is a secondary consideration. His is the view 
obtained from the experience of having one’s 
blood go tingling throughout his system when 
putting his hunting prowess against something 
alive and alert. Then there is the man who would 
not eat a bit of game under any conditions and sees 
nothing ennobling in the spectacle of killing a 
wild thing for the mere sake of killing. In the 
eyes of any one of those classes the position of 
the others is absolutely untenable. So it merely 
resolves itself into a question of any one of 
three or more principles, seen with the mind of 
any person holding any one of the several 
views. 
On the other hand, the one item on which all 
classes unite is how to accomplish the greatest 
good to the greatest number and endeavor to 
please the vast majority, even though there are 
left behind a few disgruntled ones who refuse 
to be pleased with any method. 
According to this principle we must look to the 
present system of obtaining funds to carry on 
the work of fish and game protection, preser¬ 
vation, distribution and general conservation. 
Under the license system in California those 
who hunt and fish furnish the entire fund at the 
California’s Problems of Protection 
