May 24, 1913 
FOREST AND STREAM 
655 
Sprigtail Drake and Quail Shots. 
Philadelphia, Pa., May 13. —Editor Forest 
and Stream: Perhaps my description of the 
condition of the sprigtail drake, alluded to by 
your Packer, Conn., correspondent in your issue 
of the 3d inst., did not sufficiently make clear 
the result of the careful examination. I meant 
to convey that the live duck was not “badly in¬ 
jured,” but so far as I could discover, entirely 
uninjured—only very much emaciated by lack 
of food while keeping watch alongside his 
slaughtered mate. The spot in the meadow 
where the birds were found is perhaps a quarter 
of a mile from the Delaware River, and there 
are no telephone or telegraph wires for at least 
twice the distance inland. Visiting the place 
two weeks later, I discovered the body of the 
female duck had been torn up and practically 
the “remains” consisted of the wings. Conse¬ 
quently, I concluded the drake after his experi¬ 
ence with me had given up his vigil. 
By H. E. W.’s article on the 20-gauge in 
last week's paper, I am reminded of a curious 
event which happened several years ago, and 
fortunately the main incident can be vouched 
for. I was quail shooting in the scrub oak sec¬ 
tion of New Jersey during the last of November 
in company with a friend whose business had 
not permitted any field shooting for several 
years. Knowing his old-time fondness for the 
sport, I was desirous of giving him what oppor¬ 
tunity there might be of lightening the burden 
in his shell vest. Consequently when the dogs 
pointed in the middle of a triangular-shaped 
clearing, he was instructed to advance toward 
the dogs while I stood at one side to watch 
the main flight of the covey, being well assured 
from previous experience in the same locality, 
that a few birds would probably cross the open 
space and make for the “oak suckers” to our 
right. When they flushed, I noted the main 
portion flew straight away to the nearest cover 
in front, but that apparently three birds, several 
yards apart, made across the clearing. It was 
about 4 p. M. and the sky overcast, so I selected 
a bird which was clearly outlined just above the 
tops of the scrub oaks, and as he crumpled at 
the report of the gun, I quickly turned to watch 
the result of my friend’s two barrels, as well as 
to determine the exact direction to take for se¬ 
curing the birds in front. To my question of 
“What luck?” he pointed to some drifting feath¬ 
ers and ruefully replied, “That’s all I got.” I 
walked perhaps thirty-five yards to where my 
bird had fallen, picked it up and turned a few 
steps toward my friend, when I heard the con¬ 
vulsive fluter of a dj'ing bird. I looked back, 
and gathering it up, remarked on my luck in 
bagging a pair while only seeing one in line with 
my gun. We held a council of war as to the 
best plan for going after the scattered birds and 
finally decided to spend a few minutes searching 
for the other two birds I had seen flying to the 
right before tackling the others, which had 
flown in the general direction of our route. The 
short way across the field took us right over the 
spot where I had previously picked up the two 
birds, and there lay a third one on the ground. 
Surprise is not the word to describe my con¬ 
dition. I was actually flabbergasted. Nor did 
I attempt to pick up that bird until after I had 
put my hand in the game pocket of my coat 
and actually felt the warm bodies of the other 
two, then examined the pocket for a hole, well 
knowing we had no shooting since dinner, when 
all our game had been left at the farm house. 
“Truth was stranger than fiction that day,” and 
it was some time before I puzzled it out. The 
covey had evidently been feeding when flushed. 
Consequently two later-rising and lower-flying 
birds had come in line vvith the shot aimed at 
the one above the scrub oaks. I think your 
readers who have experienced shooting among 
these scrubs, whose leaves never seem to drop 
off, will agree they make an almost impossible 
background, and therefore that my theory is 
correct. 
Well, I finally mustered courage enough to 
pick up that last bird, and, even like little Oliver, 
looked round for “more”—though I did not ask 
—before we struck into the oaks to the right 
and the dogs finally flushed one which we 
“scratched down” and bagged, then to the rest 
of the covey where my friend had no luck owing 
to the dense briers. 
Sometimes the eye plays us strange tricks. 
I recall a case where my friend and self unex¬ 
pectedly came close together in a little opening 
in the woods where a covey flushed within fif¬ 
teen yards, and each made a quick shot with one 
barrel. We both noted the fact that one bird 
had fallen and naturally accused each other of 
having shot at the same bird. When I stepped 
forward to pick it up I discovered another with¬ 
in not over ten feet of the first, thus disproving 
entirely our first impression. Scolopax. 
New Game Laws in Montana. 
The 1913 game and fish laws of Montana, 
just issued by State Warden J. L. De Hart, con¬ 
tain some radical changes from previous laws. 
Previously angling knew no restriction. Now 
not more than twenty-five pounds of any game 
fish (cleaned) may be taken in one day, nor 
more than ten fish under six inches. Only one 
doe may be killed, although the old limit of 
three deer still stands. Elk, with many county 
exceptions, are protected until 1918. Ewe and 
lamb Rocky Mountain sheep are protected. 
Song birds may not be taken at any time. Game 
birds, killed in other States, may be possessed 
and sold at any time. 
The Legislature of Pennsylvania has 
passed the bill for a hunter’s license law, a law 
prohibiting the sale of plumage of American 
birds for millinery, and to place the herons, 
eagles, ravens and shrikes on the list of pro¬ 
tected birds. 
More About Geography. 
OcoNOMOwoc, Wis., May 15 .—Editor Forest 
and Stream: Your Las Animas, Colo., corres¬ 
pondent, F. T. Webber, is quite correct regard¬ 
ing my inadvertence in naming Fort Wallace, 
then in Western Kansas (not Kentucky, as he 
has it) as Fort Russell, in Wyoming, and in the 
buffalo story N. P. should have read U. P. 
I am glad to have the address of Mr. 
Webber, as he may be able to gratify me with 
information of old friends of those days when 
his town did not exist, it being myself that 
located and laid it out in ’72-3, and to which 
point we built a branch road, later taken up. 
Fort Russell, near Cheyenne, is still maintained 
and was formerly called Fort D. A. Russell. 
Forts Hays, Wallace and Lyon, near Las Ani¬ 
mas, are long abandoned. 
The habit of the buffalo in facing cold winds 
and storms applied also to the antelope, its 
coarse open hair affording protection to its body 
in only that way. 
The experience of Martin and other train 
engineers in being held up by buffalo crossing 
the track was, as related to me, far exceeded 
when the steamboats of the old line between 
St. Louis and Fort Benton, Montana, antedating 
the Pacific railroads, were at times compelled to 
stop and tie up, awaiting the slow crossing of 
the Upper Missouri River by great herds of 
buffalo, then in quiet possession of its borders. 
D. M. Edgerton. 
Carrying Game Through New Jersey. 
The City of New York, Office of the Presi¬ 
dent of the Borough of Brooklyn, May 16.— 
Editor Forest and Stream: On Sunday night, 
Jan. 5, 1913, while returning from the home of 
Fred G. Metzger, Postmaster of Yulan, Sullivan 
county, N. Y., in company of my wife, G. M. 
Wainwright and sister-in-law, we were arrested 
at Jersey City terminal of the Erie R. R. by 
Deputy David Besant and another game warden 
on charges of carrying a shotgun and having in 
our possession one rabbit, a present of Mr. 
Metzger. We were taken, without much cere¬ 
mony, to Hoboken, where Justice of the Peace 
John J. O’Brien was holding Sunday night court. 
His awe-inspiring presence and his features re¬ 
flecting a life of study and learning, together 
with the knowledge that he represented the ma¬ 
jesty of the law which we had so grossly vio¬ 
lated and held in contempt, was sufficient to 
strike terror into the hearts of our little band, 
and creepy sensations crept up and down the 
spines of us all as we were dragged before him 
for his punishment. The proceedings were en¬ 
tirely informal, no complaint being read off to 
me, but simply a few memoranda taken by 
O’Brien. After much cogitation and with many 
mournful but wise shakes of the head, first 
glancing on the floor now at the ceiling as 
though there to find some solution whereby we 
would feel the weight of his wrath, he seemed 
to be visited by an idea, for he said, ‘ $46.80 or 
