782 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Dec. 21, 19x2 
Old Fusee 
G OING to take the old gun along this time?” 
“Yes; thought I would give her a 
whiff of salt air once more. You know 
she had a reputation years ago for close and 
hard shooting.” 
“That’s right. Many a goose and several 
deer have been credited to her, and I reckon 
she can still deliver the goods if you fellows 
haven’t forgotten how to load a muzzleloader, 
seeing as all you have to do with your new¬ 
fangled breechloaders is to press a button, so to 
speak, and let the machinery talk. No call for 
judgment like the old-timers needed to get re¬ 
sults.” 
Thus it happened that when Captain “Nick” 
boarded a certain staunch sloop-rigged boat very 
By W. H. EDDY 
to say nothing of shellfish au naturel, were not 
to be despised. 
The old gun was the subject of considerable 
jest and merriment, and was promptly christened 
“Old Fusee.” Her awkward looking hammers 
seemed strangely in the way as she was tucked 
into the sneak box, but when being loaded with 
the shiny black grains and the wads sent down 
the barrels with a sharp “ting,” followed by the 
rattle of the coarse pellets and the seating of the 
final wad, and then carefully capped with Ely's 
best, at least one member of the party recalled 
the time when he could shoot better than he 
ever will again. And there are others. 
Although “Old Fusee” had accounted for 
two brant out of a distant flock on her very first 
ging of the boat, so that a fair showing was 
assured. It was decided to put out decoys once 
more, so an early start was made, this time to 
a sedge island point, and concealment being made 
by piling seaweed on the sneak boxes. Large 
bodies of brant were feeding in the coves on 
either side, but the day proved still and calm, 
and all the party concluded it would be a blank. 
Well along in the morning a neighboring gun¬ 
ner, with the best of intentions for his mates, 
waded out on the flats and routed the feeding 
brant. Instead of doing as he evidently antici¬ 
pated, the contrary brant swung to the south 
and the air seemed full of cackling and c-r-r-onk- 
ing birds. A bunch of possibly forty caught 
sight of the decoys and came in nicely, and after 
CAPTAIN NICK. 
OLD FUSEE AND THE EVIDENCE. 
ON THE SANDBAR. 
early one morning in November, 1912, he car¬ 
ried besides his trim and up-to-date hammerless 
an old-time “charcoal burner.” With three boon 
companions he was bound down the bay for at 
least ten days’ vacation, and hoped to bring 
back enough wildfowl, particularly brant, to 
give his friends and neighbors their annual 
treat. 
As the breeze that day was very light, it 
was nearly sundown when the boat with four 
gunning skiffs or sneak boxes in tow reached 
its anchorage in a safe and convenient location 
near several islands and gunning points. 
Then followed days of solid enjoyment for 
these "boys,” as they still like to call them¬ 
selves, even though the years have brought gray 
locks and slowed up the work with oars and 
putting out decoys. As their chief desire was 
to outwit the wary brant, much hard work had 
to be done in shoveling places to bury the sneak 
boxes on sandbars. Then the rising or falling 
tide would necessitate a repetition of this work, 
so none complained of lack of exercise. If the 
day proved still and calm, no effort was made 
to deceive the wildfowl, but instead journeys 
were made over the flats after clams and oysters, 
and the savory chowders and stews that resulted, 
test, her guardian often left her behind when 
he would start long before daylight for some 
sandbar or point. One day in particular he re¬ 
gretted this fact and longed for the old gun 
and her heavy load of big shot. It was shortly 
after sunrise, and the four sneak boxes were 
well hidden away on a sandbar. Looking up the 
bay, a flock of nine swan was seen slowly wing¬ 
ing their way southward. If they should hold 
their coarse they would pass almost directly 
overhead, so there was a hurried scramble to 
substitute shells of BBs for the smaller sizes. 
As the swans neared the sandbar, they swung 
to the westward and passed at a distance of a 
good seventy-five yards. The salute from the 
hidden gunners was unanimous, but though the 
patter of shot against the big birds sounded 
somewhat like that heard when a load is fired 
at a barn door, none of the arguments was con¬ 
vincing. Then someone said: “That was a 
chance for ‘Old Fusee’” “Right you are!” re¬ 
plied Captain “Nick,” “and I'll see that she is 
on the job next time.” 
The days passed all too quickly, and it was 
time to think of returning home. Some fifty 
brant and a larger number of blackducks, broad- 
bills and a pair of canvasbacks hung in the rig- 
the excitement was over, ten of their number 
were gathered. Later on a smaller flock sought 
to be sociable and five remained with the gun¬ 
ners. Then an occasional blackduck would pay 
the penalty for “butting in,” and so the total 
reached sixteen brant, ten blackducks and a 
broadbill. 
All had quieted down, when one of the 
party chanced to glance over his shoulder and 
then exclaimed: “Look out, boys, here come 
some swan right in the glare of the sun!” All 
kept well down and reached for shells of coarse 
stuff, but only one succeeded in making the 
substitution before it was seen that the swan 
were six “honkers” and were swinging wide and 
high, fully eighty-five yards away. The gunner 
who had changed shells sent his compliments, 
but the spiteful crack of the nitro was of no 
avail. 
Then Captain “Nick” reached for the old 
gun, and as the boom of the black powder 
sounded over the bay, one of the Canadas grace¬ 
fully planed down and struck the water like a 
man overboard. Something very like a war whoop 
came from Captain “Nick” as he shouted: “How 
about ‘Old Fusee,’ now?” 
“Old Fusee” had “come back.” 
