FOREST AND STREAM 
533 
silent. Bravely quelling the desire to pot-shoot, 
I stepped forward as carefully as possible, and 
as he rose, held full on him and gave him a 
charge of Number Six shot. Lucky shot: he 
folded up and tumbled to earth. It was a clean 
kill. If I had been elated when I got the gray 
squirrel, who can diagnose my feelings upon 
getting Sir Ruffed Grouse? But he was only 
the first. I had proceeded, with skillful, alert 
steps, from the north to the southern side of 
a hill, where the now brilliant- sun was peeping 
in with penetrating eye, from a heaven that was 
absolutely cloudless. 
Hardly had I reached this point when I was 
half startled by the sudden rise of six partridges 
ahead of me- Clean miss; and they were gone. 
The very unexpectedness of it caught me un¬ 
awares, and the undergrowth prevented; also 
they were quite far away. Fred’s gun spoke 
doubly some fifteen minutes thereafter and a 
little mental arithmetic could not but arouse the 
conjecture that he had drawn blood on my 
covey of six. Again Silence drew her shroud 
over the land, and the hunt was recommenced. 
I got another gray squirrel in the next ten min¬ 
utes, and shortly thereafter saw three and got 
two; one of them holed up. Beastly work, I 
thought, to kill squirrels with a shotgun, and 
I had to recollect that not in five years had 1 
done it. The rifle had been the medium. 
I lit my pipe and pausing for a time inspected 
the world of Nature around me. Birds had 
now begun to be more than ever in evidence. 
Robins occasionally arrived, and yellow-hammers 
awoke the echoes with their peculiar chirping. 
Chickadees swung, heads downward on the 
branches, cheerily as ever telling the world that 
they loved it. Sap-suckers trailed their way 
on the tree-trunks, piping as they worked. 
I kept my eyes intensely alert for the least 
movement, and the hammer of the gun was 
drawn, and half risen to shoulder. How quick 
they rise, these partridges! One has to do his 
work of destruction very swiftly, to register a 
clean kill at even forty yards, hence the need 
of being ever on the qui vive. And now as 
I edged along the more open place, whence had 
flown my six, with a quit-quit they rose, two 
of them, lordly visions that sent my heart bound¬ 
ing throatward. Up rose the nose of the double¬ 
gun, and bang, bang, the keen forceful smokeless 
rent the air. It was another one to add to my 
bag, but where has gone number two? Swiftly 
going forward I scanned the immediate surround¬ 
ings. I listened, very, very keenly. Not a 
sound! I knew he was hit- Lying close to 
the ground I cleared away the leaves and listen¬ 
ed. If hit he may be lying in concealment .in 
the leaves and the ear might apprehend the 
sound only as one would listen close, very 
close to the bosom of the earth. But not one 
sound broke the stillness. My game was lost. 
Shortly again, and further away now, Fred's 
gun shattered its own particular strain of leaden 
hail, and I wondered vaguely in those ensuing 
hours what he was doing. Then silence lay low 
till again a giant gray, one of the biggest I have 
ever laid ohbs upon, came down before my 
magic walking stick. 
I glanced at my watch; it was drawing toward 
the noon-hour, almost before I knew it. Time 
does fly; and here I had been moseying around, 
speculatively engrossed in viewing my soul-ap¬ 
peasing surroundings. Heigh-ho! who cares, 
when there is wine in the atmosphere, and the 
day opens its treasure-hoard in unstinted invita¬ 
tion. I was elaborating upon my soon-to-be essay 
upon the wonders and blessings of a day in 
October, when Fred stepped out from behind 
a tree, not only upsetting my equilibrium but 
doing other things. 
Anyhow, when a fellow is the least in the 
world expecting it, should a guy step out in 
that way, and suddenly with a crisp, martial 
command bid one to halt, thus upsetting— shucks, 
if I didn’t just jump six feet into the air, it 
was at least six inches, and that was bad enough. 
I halted, and Fred allowed his expansive coun¬ 
tenance to become a luminous illustration of 
humor, and then he laughed, well, fit to bust. 
Fred had six partridge in his pockets, and 
what with the squirrels he had brought down 
“A Real Boy and a Gun.” 
it was well and enough for a morning’s hunt in 
fine territory. 
“This is my kingdom,” said Fred, in the most 
absolute and convincing demeanor. “Here is 
the place I have laid awake nights for years 
and years figuring about, and it’s come true. 
We’ll have baked partridge tonight. I can eat 
six myself.” 
“You'll modify that some, old boy,” I suggest¬ 
ed. “Make it one or two and you go a little 
better to the truth.” 
“And a couple of baked potatoes, and a wedge 
of bread,” added Fred, appraising the future 
with a gloating eye. 
“And a steaming-hot, delicious coffee-pot 
brimming with coffee, thirty cents a pound,” 
I encouraged with a world embracing smile— 
“and bacon with the potatoes, and last of all, 
the partridge giving off a soothing, palpitating 
fragrance, with tender breasts yielding to the 
fork.” 
Fred drew himself up with a jerk as though 
having thought of something. He looked at his 
watch. 
“Why it’s close to noon,” he said, with a mis¬ 
chievous smile- “While I burden myself with 
the lowly and insignificant labors of garnering 
the wood, you spy upon the contents of the 
knapsack and rout out the means and accessories 
whereby a meal may be discovered and waylaid.” 
Already I have said too much about eating. 
But while at that meal in the bigwoods, you 
should have heard Fred talk of the wonders and 
munificence of Nature. Fred and I have one 
horrible fault in .common. I admit it. We use 
tremendous language in our—er—consultations. 
To hear Fred dictating in ponderous adjectives 
and adverbs of unknown and uncomprehended 
origin and gender is to realize the acme of 
worldly happiness. I ask you: does Fred allow 
himself to stop when the mind refuses to pre¬ 
pare words, true and tried, to explain his mean¬ 
ing? Nay: onward, onward to the goal, never 
stopping, till finally the ship of speech is wrecked 
on a jaw-breaking invention. Then he ducks his 
head as though to escape a thrown missile and 
the laugh goes the rounds. If Fred didn’t do 
all this he wouldn’t be Fred, that’s all there is 
to it! 
We spent the rest of the day moving around 
together, ardent in the study of Nature and her 
inimitable works. Given a lease from toil of 
this sort, it is wonderful, to be quite alone, just 
two of you, to stray along like boys of old, 
and have nothing to do but appreciate and muse 
upon the wonders of the out-of-doors. Rid 
from the sight of people, and the fettering in¬ 
fluences of civilization, one knows then that Na¬ 
ture is the supreme, condescending mother and 
physician. In a thousand ways she will heal, 
where any other source but aggravates and 
lengthens our miseries, be they such. Away 
then from pills and condiments; away with po¬ 
tions and plasters, to Nature and the righting 
of the mind first, last and all the time. Without 
a cheerful mind no ailment is properly cured. 
The cabin that night was a pleasure and a 
joy forever. The fireplace had been brought 
into use, and with abundant wood, the chilly 
evening was made one of tropical warmth-^at 
least within. Perhaps this is not enjoyment,, 
say, after a day’s hunt and rambling around. 
Rather say, find one equal to it and we will 
compare their relative values. It is on just that 
sort of night you like to hitch your legs and 
feet up on some convenient chair, light up the 
old briar pipe and begin to weave dreams and 
anticipations. 
A FOREST AND STREAM TROPHY WINNER. 
Grand Lake Stream, Sept. 30th, 1914. 
This is to certify that W. B. Young, 149 
Reade St., New York City, N. Y., caught with 
dry and wet flies, from Sept. 2nd to Sept. 30th, 
forty-six land locked salmon (Ouananiche) in 
twenty-four days at Grand Lake Stream, while 
a guest of Ouananiche Lodge; the largest salmon 
weighed 'five and one-fourth pounds. 
Mr. Young, we believe, has established the 
world’s record for light tackle, by taking on 
Sept. 30th, on a one ounce Payne two jointed 
split bamboo rod, length six feet two inches, 
reel attached to rod, using a No. 1 double taper 
Malloch line drawn leader, No. 14 wet fly, two 
salmon, weight two and four pounds, the di¬ 
mensions of the largest salmon were: length, 22 
inches; width, 4% inches; time, 10 minutes; 
guide, James Bacon. 
Witnesses: Charles Campbell, manager of 
Ouananiche Lodge; James Bacon, Guide; Her¬ 
bert Bacon, Guide. 
As many as 72 different kinds of wood are 
used in the manufacture of umbrella handles, 
canes and whips in this country. 
