Forest and Stream 
Terms, $3 a Year. 10 Cts. a Copy. 
Six Months, $1.50. 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 
I Q l I. 
} VOL. LXXVII.—No 14 
1 No. 127 Franklin St.. New York 
0 
i 
POINT MORGAN, ON THE TEXAS COAST. 
From a photograph by G. S. Flitcroft, Jr. 
“ Yaller-Leg ” and Anse 
Y ALLER-LEG,” Anse called them, and I 
accepted his pronunciation, for there are 
times when it is wisest to remain silent. 
Yaller or yellow is a matter of small moment 
compared with the successful outcome of a 
shooting expedition, and if Anse found me 
bickering with him upon such trifles I had good 
reasons to believe that I would return to the 
mainland with my barrels unfouled. The higher 
education is an excellent thing to possess, but it 
will not bring the snipe hovering the decoys, 
and there is no man along the south shore of 
Long Island who can whistle a better snipe call 
than Anse. Consequently when he called them 
“yaller-leg,” I called them "yaller-leg,” and 
added that it “ ’peared like a mighty good morn¬ 
ing for them.” 
There’s nothing like establishing yourself 
upon terms of equality with your guide. Some¬ 
how he will always work more earnestly for 
your success if you eliminate all the fancy 
touches and make a companion of him, rather 
than a servant. Anse is one of those inde¬ 
pendent ones who will work might and main 
with you but not for you. You are either a 
“good feller” in his estimation, or a “darned 
dude. If the former, he will get you good 
shooting if it is possible, but, if not, the decoys 
will be put out almost anywhere and your 
chance of bagging a few birds is small. So I 
By FREDERICK ARTHUR DOMINY 
agreed with him when he took his pipe out of 
his mouth, and, after carefully knocking out the 
burnt tobacco over the leeward rising, re¬ 
marked, "We stand a likely chance of killin’ 
some yallerleg on the medders 'round Gilgo to¬ 
day. Tide's pretty high, an’ that’s the time to 
ketch ’em on the medders.” 
“And this sou’wester ’ll keep ’em moving, 
too, won’t it?” I said. 
“Yep. Sou’wester blowin’ hard, like ’tis to¬ 
day, makes good snipin’ weather. I dunno, 
though, but what I’d jest as lieve have an’ easter 
an’ rainin’. I’ve seed the time when I had some 
mighty pretty shootin’ in a rainstorm.” 
“Pretty wet shooting, I should think, Anse,” 
I objected. “They would certainly have to be 
coming fast to keep me in a blind in such 
weather.” 
"Sho! You won’t melt, will you?” he replied 
scornfully. “What’s a little water when you’ve 
got dry clothes in the cabin an’ your gun 
barrels is so hot they ’most burn your han’s? 
“Yes siree,” Anse reiterated, when a vicious 
puff that had cut the old Louise down had blown 
itself out. “Yes siree. We’ll sure get shootin' 
to-day. On the medders for yaller-leg at high 
water, and when the tide falls off, we'll rig-.out 
on a sandbar I knows of an’ likely kill a few 
plover. How’ll that suit you?” 
I always did have a great degree of confidence 
in his prognostications, both upon the weather 
and shooting conditions, and when he stated so 
positively that we would have shooting—well. 
I’m not a betting man, but I would have risked 
a dollar or two upon the confirmation of his 
prophecy. At times it seems almost uncanny, 
that ability of his to look into the future, six, 
twelve, or twenty-four hours ahead, and to de¬ 
clare that “the wind’s goin’ to haul ’round to 
the east’ard by mornin’ an’ the snipe 11 be 
tendin’ to P’int o' Beach,” or some other point 
or pond-hole in the radius of his operations. 
Certainly eight times out of ten, the wind would 
change as he said, then the sloop would be 
pointed toward the chosen place, and if anyone 
had shooting that day you can depend upon it 
that Anse and I were getting just as good. 
Safely we navigated the tortuous turns and 
narrow channel of Fox Creek under the im¬ 
petus given us by the gasolene motor that Anse, 
in common with other progressive baymen, had 
installed in his boat. And for that motor I 
rendered thanks. I had a vivid recollection of 
the last time I had passed through that same 
creek in the Louise, and, as well as 1 like shoot¬ 
ing, I hardly think that even Anse’s promise of 
the greatest bag we bad ever made would have 
induced me to work my passage as I did before. 
That was before the days of gasolene power, 
and when we reached the mouth of the creek, 
