8 
FOREST AND STREAM 
July 6, 1912 
new fishing skiff. The man had hailed us at 
the Midway Post Office landing, and to accom¬ 
modate him, we had taken him on for the run 
to Helena, Ark., where he was sure the thieves 
would try to sell their booty. From him we 
had a word of introduction to the owner of the 
big houseboat or shantyboat, hence dropped 
anchor near it a couple of days after. The sea¬ 
son was open and a deer hunt was a welcome 
change from constant cruising. 
Mrs. Wallace and the family were friends 
from the start. They visited the little negro 
store and post office at the landing, bought 
small articles from the mammies who presided 
over the slab-roofed one and two-roomed negro 
cabins and otherwise stretched their limbs and 
imaginations. 
Mr. Wallace had succeeded in getting the 
negro Jake to agree to guide us where the deer 
had been seen, and the following morning we 
set off early. As I have indicated before in the 
sketches of Mississippi River travel, the river 
is very crooked, and in every bend there is a 
sandbar, the latter sometimes covered with sand- 
burrs, grass and accumulated trash. This bar 
is on the short side of the waterway bend, hav¬ 
ing been gradually deposited by the various 
stages of water as they swirled about. Deer 
often graze out on to the bars during the night 
and get water or lie in the sand. 
We made down the high bank of the inside 
of the bend and traveled parallel to the river 
for five miles. It seemed like ten. Working 
back into the canebrakes here and there and 
over into small patches of corn, studying the 
whole floor of Mother Nature's wonderful 
bower of giant sycamore and cypress for sign 
and tracks that might lead to quarry. Leaving 
the timber and underbrush often we went into 
the corn but could find no tracks. Even Jake’s 
particular field of maize, where the deer had 
been seen the evening before, failed to yield the 
tracks. If ever a certain piece of ground was 
covered thoroughly we did it on that soil. And 
the plainer it was that nothing resembling deer 
had been in the field, the more positive Jake 
was that he had seen them. This reminded me 
of the phantom covey I pursued one fall. 
Once I left Jake, who had been piloting me 
about through the jungle. Down through a 
piece of tangle I snooped about and found some 
tracks. Gradually I drew away from Jake. 
Once in a while I could hear him breaking 
down a bit of cane. He had been cautioned 
not to make a noise with his big mouth. A 
negro shines on a deer hunt when he can shout 
and ring a bell on a drive with a pack of curs 
or hounds with pot-hook tails. I was sure 
Jake would be able to find his way out, though 
about myself I was as yet undecided. The sky 
was overcast and I had nothing to lead me out 
save the moss on the tree trunks, the general 
leaning of the vegetation toward the south and 
to follow the river if I should happen to strike 
it in my ramblings. 
After a couple of hours of fruitless hunting, I 
came upon a series of deer tracks among those 
of some stray cattle, young things that roamed 
over the point at their own will, and as the 
tracks were apparently made that morning, my 
pursuit was immediate. Through a long draw 
that led to the river the cattle, with the deer fol¬ 
lowing, trekked along. Once I was sure that I 
could hear the tinkle of the bell on the critter 
that led the herd. On listening for it again, I 
failed to catch it. Thinking that the deer were 
at the rear of the bunch, as indeed their tracks 
showed, I was careful not to make the slightest 
noise, following as carefully as I would in still¬ 
hunting in the woods of the North. 
The draw’s end was in sight. It was run¬ 
ning out to meet the bar, though I doubted if 
the deer would be on the sand at this time of 
the day, even if the cattle were. The more I 
studied the problem, the more it seemed that the 
whole herd had moved along the route I was 
following very early in the morning. I might 
be miles behind them. The trail ran out on 
the bar to the water’s edge and then along it 
for a few hundred yards. I could see with my 
glasses that it again entered the timber on the 
bank further down, and hastened along, under 
cover as much as possible, to again take it up 
if the deer had stayed behind the cattle. 
They had. Their tracks were apparently as 
fresh as those of the cattle they followed. Deer 
hunting North had 
taught me that they 
like to seclude them¬ 
selves during the day 
and lie about in thick¬ 
ets, after having spent 
the night feeding. I 
traveled therefore w : th 
greater caution again 
after entering the tim¬ 
ber and brakes. The 
trail led through deep¬ 
er tangles than before, 
and into wet bottoms. 
Soon I was able to 
catch the tinkle of a 
bell on the neck of an 
animal that was brush¬ 
ing flies off its sides 
presumably at rest. It 
was by no means dis¬ 
tinct. I figured that the 
cattle had dropped to 
their bellies for the day 
and thought the deer 
might be with the 
bunch. But I kept to the trail. Often I thought 
I was approaching the tinkling bell, yet some¬ 
times I was sure it was growing more indis¬ 
tinct. Then taking the trail again, I traveled 
as noiselessly as possibly, hoping to get at least 
a running shot at game if it should get up ahead 
in the brush. A snapping of the dry twigs 
ahead arrested my attention. I hid behind a 
large sycamore, peered to the right and left, 
watching all angles of the open spots on all 
sides. 
Ahead and to the right the woods noises in¬ 
creased. Something was walking toward me, 
and I doubted if any pair of deer could have 
made as much noise had they tried. Suddenly 
the head of a bay mare showed itself among 
the bushes and she approached me, walking 
slowly and coming right for me. Then almost 
as suddenly she stopped, seemed to make a 
survey of the dangers and raised her head, 
snorted, doubled on her tracks and ran as if 
Satan himself was in pursuit. She had scented 
me I was sure. As she made away, she ran into 
the bunch of cattle and stampeded them. I could 
hear the sound of the bell diminish in the dis¬ 
tance. Then I went on further and found where 
the deer and cattle had been lying in the brakes. 
Feeling disgusted that I should have been so 
close upon the deer and not get a shot, I took 
my bearings as best I could and headed for a 
levee that crossed that section and started for 
the shantyboat and cruiser. I had steadily 
been working back from the point, due north, 
and came upon higher ground, on which, just 
over the levee, were fields of corn and cotton 
and patches of weeds. I crossed the levee and 
dropped into the weeds, making for a cattle 
trail I knew was further on. Just as I came to 
it, I stopped. I was sure Wallace and Jake had 
gone home, but thought it would not be foolish 
to call once to make sure, though I make it a 
rule never to call out when in the woods. 
Lifting my rather heavy voice, I sang out like 
the leader of a chanty carrying the catch-word 
for a crew of leathern-lunged Norsks. In¬ 
stantly a crash in the scrub oaks ahead startled 
me, and down came my rifle, pointing in that 
direction. Doubting my eyes when I saw two 
brownish forms leap across the opening in some 
brush, I did not even fire a snap shot. But 
they fled with safety between themselves and 
me, and no more did I see of them than a 
couple of white flags flapping as they cleared 
the worm fence along the field and entered the 
corn. The hunting had been splendid, but the 
game possibilities were otherwise. Anyhow. I 
would rather have a deerless hunt than kill the 
seed. The chase is the thing! 
Correction. 
Chicago, Ill., June 25 —Editor Forest and 
Stream: In the absence of Secretary Swisher 
we call your attention to the erroneous caption 
in your issue of the 22d inst. wherein you credit 
the scores made in our invitation tournament of 
May 26 to the Newark Casting Club, and failed 
to give either heading or Secretary's Swisher’s 
signature, and request that you kindly make cor¬ 
rection. O. C. Wehle. 
Forest and Stream may be ordered from any news¬ 
dealer. Ask your dealer to supply you regularly. 
MOONLIGHT ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 
