FOREST AND STREAM 
289 
We Are Mobilizing Our Army! 
Over 100,000 live, wide-awake young Americans are returning home from summer 
vacations. The October St. Nicholas will sound the call to arms. Forward, Pet Depart¬ 
ment advertisers! You can’t afford to disregard this tremendous force this year. They 
are now on the frontier waiting for the signal. Win them to your side. They are loyal 
fighters. 
Victory 
Reliable Pet Stock 
Advertisers 
St. Nicholas Readers 
Our Pet Department 
This is an 
U nconquer able 
Triple Alliance 
Make plans to begin your Christmas campaign in the Pet Department at once, 
your forces on the winning side. October forms close August 5th. 
Get 
ST. NICHOLAS PET DEPARTMENT 
UNION SQUARE, NEW YORK CITY 
By the way, if the war makes German and Swiss toys expensive and scarce, why not 
suggest a pet for the St. Nicholas youngster? Isn’t this YOUR opportunity? 
birds, coursing the air in a stream over the nearby 
corn, did we hear, and, somewhat disappointed, 
we moved on. 
We had traversed a hundred yards or so on 
toward a broken sod field, which lay to the west 
of the pasture, when that tender triplet again 
sounded on the air, and at the same time we 
beheld a brace of plover just clearing the ragged 
weed tops, about forty yards in our advance. And 
again we both shot, but so simultaneously that 
neither knew the other had done so until after 
it was all over. I covered the leader first, and 
at the crack of my piece he let go and sank into 
the green. Ray had done precisely the same 
thing. The first one down, my second barrel was 
turned on the other bird and so was Welch’s. 
This may seem strange, but any two men who 
have shot ducks from the same blind or quail or 
snipe much together, know what a common thing 
it is for them both to shoot at the same bird at 
the same time, and neither know it until it comes 
to claiming the bird. 
On this occasion, however, we were too anxious 
to add to our bag to feel nettled, even in the 
slightest degree, and instead of one complaining 
of the other, we exchanged congratulations at 
the cleanness of the two shots, and each pocketed 
a bird, and while it made not a particle of dif¬ 
ference which of us killed them, there was a sort 
of triumph, anyway, in momentary possession. 
However, to avoid any further needless contre¬ 
temps of this sort, we here agreed to separate, and 
as I worked back along the edge of the corn, 
Welch strolled off cat-a-cornered across. 
We had hardly gotten out of gun range of each 
other when two birds flushed in front of Ray. 
They were at a trifle long range, but he turned 
the first one over with the skill of a Bill Francke 
and dusted the fluffy tops of the golden-rod 
around the second. Welch scampered off to re¬ 
trieve his fallen bird, which proved to be only 
wing-tipped, and as ‘t led him off through the 
patches of mullin, ragweed and purpling lobelia, 
he flushed two or three more birds that had been 
lying in the covers’ shade away from the sultry 
rays of the sun. All of these birds went high 
into the air, then struck a bee-line off to the 
south, and as near as we could make out, settled 
in the middle of another big cornfield fully a mile 
But, lack-a-day, like all the other good things 
in life, our sport came to as sudden an end as it 
began. It was too great to last. We hunted hard 
and industriously for an hour longer, after kill¬ 
ing our last birds, Ray even trudging way off to 
the distant cornfield, where we thought some of 
the birds had lit, but not another feather did he 
get. The birds had simply and incontinently quit 
the neighborhood, and as we stood beside the 
wagon debating what to do next and where to 
go, we descried once or twice , more a streak of 
gray scudding across the azure of the sky, leagues 
and leagues away it seemed, and then wind out of 
sight, while now and then, coming from where 
none could tell, came that sweet melody, like 
tinkling bells from heaven, that mysterious, 
searching, indescribable “turwheetle” of the up¬ 
land plover, until all again was still, save the 
taunting throat burst of the meadow lark and 
the “chuck! chuck! chuck!” of the crossing red¬ 
wings overhead. 
And, sadder still, never more are we to know 
a day like that which Ray and I put in out at 
old Joe Reeves’ farm 
AS FRANK FORESTER SAW IT. 
There is, perhaps, no country in the world 
which presents to the sportsman so long a cata¬ 
logue of the choicest game, whether of fur, fin or 
feather, as the United States of North America; 
there is none, probably, which counts more nu¬ 
merous or more ardent devotees; there is none, 
certainly, in which the widespread passion for 
the chase can be indulged under so few restric¬ 
tions, and at so trifling an expense. 
Yet, all this notwithstanding, it is to be regret- 
ed greatly that there is no country in which the 
nomenclature of these ferae naturae, these roving 
denizens of wood, wold and water, is so con¬ 
fused and unscientific; none in which their 
habits are so little known and their seasons so 
little regarded; none in which the gentle craft 
of venerie is so often degraded into mere pot¬ 
hunting; and in which, as a natural consequence, 
the game that swarmed of yore in all the fields 
and forests, in all the lakes, streams, bays and 
creeks of its vast territory are in such peril of 
becoming speedily extinct. 
That in a nation every male inhabitant of 
which is, with but rare exceptions, a hunter, and 
ready with the gun almost beyond example, this 
should be the case, can be explained only by the 
fact that, as I have said before, little is known 
generally of the habits of game; and that the 
rarest and choicest are slaughtered inconsider¬ 
ately, not perhaps wantonly, at such times, and 
in such manners, as are rapidly causing them to 
disappear and become extinct. 
That such is the case, can be proved in a few 
words, and by reference to few examples, the 
most evident perhaps of which is the absolute 
extinction of that noble bird, the heath hen, or 
pinnated grouse, on Long Island, where within 
the memory of our elder sportsmen they might 
be taken in abundance at the proper season, but 
where not a solitary bird has been seen for years. 
In the pines on the southern shores of New Jer¬ 
sey, and in the oak barrens of northeastern Penn¬ 
sylvania, the same birds were so plentiful within 
a few years; but now they are indeed rara aves; 
and after a few more returns of the rapidly suc¬ 
ceeding seasons, they will be no more known in 
their old-accustomed places. 
The destruction of this, the finest of our galli¬ 
naceous game, is to be attributed wholly, in all 
the districts I have 'enumerated, to the same 
cause, the havoc made among them at periods 
when a little knowledge of their habits would 
protect them from the most ruthless pot-hunter; 
the season, I mean, when they are occupied in 
laying, hatching, or rearing their young broods, 
during which to kill the parent ensures the loss 
of the whole hatching—cruelly famished orphans; 
FOREST AND STREAM READERS WANTED EVERYWHERE 
TO SELL FOX TYPEWRITERS ON COMMISSION 
Typewriter Dealers, Office Supply Men, Bank Cashiers, Hardware and 
Furniture Dealers: How would you like to take up the sale of the Fox 
Typewriter exclusively in your section? 
We would furnish you with advertising, refer all magazine inquiries to 
you, send typewriters for trial to your customers and you could pay us for 
this stock either in all cash or in monthly installments. 
Shall we send a representative to call on you, or do you prefer we should 
answer your reply by mail? 
If you need a typewriter for your own use we will let you have a 
Sample at the Wholesale Agency Pric e, and the very fact that you are using 
a Fox Typewriter will help you imm ensely to make sales. Better think 
this over carefully, then act quick. 
We have a few typewriters that ha ve been slightly _ used by our sales¬ 
men as samples, on which we will m ake very low prices. Mention For¬ 
est and Stream. 
Use the Coupon I®"" I FROM FOREST AND STREAM FOR AUGUST. 
FOX TYPEWRITER ' COMP ANY Name . 
2808-2858 Front Ave., Grand Rapids, Mich. Address . 
