Aug. 31, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
281 
A 
PERFECT 
SHOTGUN POWDER 
Because of its light 
recoil, this brand of 
powder is 
Easy on the 
Shoulder 
yet it gives a high 
velocity and re¬ 
markable patterns. 
If other loads punish 
TR Y 
SCHULTZE 
RemarkablE 
SCORES 
— OF — 
Chas. G. Spencer 
ShootinG 
**C. U.4. PA*.®" 
TARGETS 
2225 
BROKE 
2168 
AVERAGING 97.45$ 
0 
Date 
Place 
Score 
Per cent. 
Tune 1, 1912... 
...Bunker Hill, Ill.,. 
..146 x 150 
97.33 
« O 
'*> 
ft 
. .144 x 150 
96: 
“ 3, 
if 
.. 98x100 
98. 
“ 9, 
ft 
.. 96x100 
96. 
“ 11, 
(« 
...Desloge, Mo. 
.. 71 x 75 
94.66 
“ 12, 
tf 
...Bonne Terre, Mo. 
.. 99 x 100 
99. 
“ 23-24 
ft 
...St. Louis, Mo. 
. .295 x 300 
98.33 
July 2-3, 
if 
..289 x 300 
96.33 
“ 7, 
ft 
...Swansea, Ill. 
..293 x 300 
97.66 
“ 23, 
-ft 
. .98x100 
98. 
“ 25, 
it 
...Fulton, Mo. 
.. 97x100 
97. 
“ 27, 
it 
...Clayton, Mo. 
. 197 x 200 
98.50 
“ 30, 
it 
...Brookfield, Mo. .. 
.. 99 x 100 
99. 
“ 31, 
it 
...Bucklin, Mo. 
.. 50 x 50 
100. 
“ 31, 
tt 
... Marceline, Mo. ... 
.. 96 x 100 
96. 
1 
Total Targets Broken, 2168 
Total Targets Shot At, 2225 
LITTLE TRAILS AND WATERS. 
Continued from page 262. 
again continued upon our way, gathering new 
pleasures with the hour. There is something 
divinely appealing in these little jaunts into the 
realm of nature, to one who has an eye for 
more than the sordidly practical in the world. 
To that man, imbued with the love of nature, 
in her manifold charms, who is able to gather 
truth from her teachings, there is much await¬ 
ing him. He may combine his passion for ang¬ 
ling with the study of nature; he may gain from 
life a variety of emotions that the average soul 
passes by as sentimental, and hence unworthy. 
Danny, dear fellow, is woefully in love with 
nature. Even I have the passion in its highest 
form, but Danny rises to the pinnacle of earthly 
joy. Be it in the light of the golden morning, 
in the silence of the summer noon day, or the 
ethereal tranquilness and glory of the twilight 
hour, it is all the same to him; he is in love 
with every moment of the day! A peaceful ang¬ 
ler, one learned in the exquisiteness of the pas¬ 
time, a man combining the beautiful with the 
practical in a very ingenious way—this is the 
make-up of Danny. 
As we passed along the stream northward 
as it bent in its course, we found a wealth of 
beauty awaiting us. Clear, dusk-enveloped pools, 
where the fly was a welcome visitor and where 
success in its most appealing form rose to do 
us duty. Danny was fishing a placid stretch, 
quite hidden from view, letting his Coaxer fly 
drift with the barely noticeable flow of the 
water. The shadows were very deep there; a 
perfect nook, carrying to the mind the presen¬ 
tation of sylvan perfection, with the wind and 
the sunshine collaborating to make the scene 
sublime. There was a place where the shadows 
came to an end out in the water. You could 
plainly see the jagged rim, here the shadows 
dark and there the light prominent. The fly 
drifted by there with its feathers upright. Was 
it a quiver I noted? Yes, Danny had stirred it 
by the movement of the bamboo tip. We 
watched with breathless anticipation, when sud¬ 
denly the water broke, and a trout had it in his lip. 
Hoping to catch more in that identical pool, 
Danny, with a determined forethought, led the 
fish down to another pool, and there played him 
finally bringing him to net and exulting over his 
capture as only a poet can. I saw the light in 
his black eyes; the dreaminess has partially fled, 
the glint was there, and the fight had brought his 
soul into the present. 
“A beauitful fish, truly the king of the deep,” 
said Danny, as we stood looking upon it with 
kindred feelings. “Note the form and contour 
of him; there is poetry in the very make-up of 
this fish, the poetry of the wild in perfect life. 
It is a shame to bring death upon him, but it is 
the law of nature and the all-wise Creator who 
gave them to us.” 
Deftly he cut the head and with a sort of 
sigh put the fish away among the moss and 
leaves of his basket. The afternoon was wear¬ 
ing itself away, and the first hints of the ap¬ 
proaching twilight were becoming evident. There 
was a gradual film of gloom lowering, the still¬ 
ness had resolved itself into a matured shape; 
not one murmur seemed to break in upon the 
peacefulness of the day. Under the trees the 
shadows were stretching themselves lazily about. 
A bird now and then piped in some covert, but 
for that there was no breaking of the day’s aban¬ 
donment that seemed to be wrapped up around 
every feature of the scene. The sinking sun was 
on the direct downward slant; the waters that 
murmured further on our way over the rocks 
were touched to silver by the limpid sun rays. 
We paused, side by side, admiring it, finding 
time to put to word our ideas. Lower and lower 
sank the sun, and we knew that it was time to 
make our camp for the night. There was a 
graceful bend in the stream at a certain point, 
banked in by trees and bushes in back, with the 
stream before us, and a scene that could not 
have been more perfect. 
The camp-fire was soon blazing and we were 
content. The regulation bacon in the frying-pan, 
crisp and appetizing, and the old coffee pot on 
the coals made a delightful meal and prepared 
for the evening hour of reverie. Between the 
last hint of the dying light and darkness there 
is a moment of holiness, which the lover of 
nature finds much to his fancy. And we wan¬ 
dered together, smoking much, and taking note 
of what was constantly taking place on the stage 
of the wild. Thus had fled the first day in para¬ 
dise; simple and sweet, with the burdens of life 
fled, and an awakened sense of the lofty taking 
its place. And we could only dream as we fell 
asleep of those coming days and the sweetness 
they would bring. It was a dream come true. 
