178 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 30, 1909. 
Demand and Supply. 
Los Angeles, Cal., Jan. 20. —Editor Forest 
and Stream: The protracted soaking rains have 
put local ranchers and sportsmen into much 
better mood. There is no denying that the out¬ 
look had become blue. The previous rains had 
started all sorts of pasture and encouraged 
ranchers to put in their grain, which was, in ex¬ 
posed sections, beginning to need moisture badly. 
Inasmuch as the connection between the ranch¬ 
ers’ interests and the welfare of the sportsmen 
is an intimate relation here, the gunners may ex¬ 
pect good shooting any year the farmers have 
bountiful crops. Another season of under aver¬ 
age rainfall would have been almost fatal to 
the quail supply, but there is enough breeding 
stock left to re-stock if the winter’s rains war¬ 
rant the work in the birds’ estimation. 
The immediate effect of the protracted driz¬ 
zling rains of the last two weeks has been to 
knock the bottom out of our duck shooting. One 
of the reasons why shooting is so good on the 
duck clubs here is the scarcity of other fresh 
water in southern California. After the rains 
come, puddles form in every field; each depres¬ 
sion holds enough to water a thousand ducks. 
Spoonbills and teal have been the chief supply 
of sport for a month. “Pasadena mallards,’’ as 
the spoonies are called here, have been in ex¬ 
cellent condition thus far. 
Heavy storms up north, freezing weather, and 
floods carrying out levees and bridges in central 
California indicate that the horde of migrants 
driven south from the Columbia River country 
will hardly come beyond the Suisun, Sacramento 
and San Joaquin overflows. 
Snipe shooting is deteriorating sadly here. I 
doubt if any part of the country could surpass 
the sport we had here as late as ten years ago. 
In my opinion the drainage of the snipe marsh, 
turning tule land into celery fields—the plant 
thrives splendidly in the rich peat, and our 
Orange county now ranks with Kalamazoo, 
Michigan, on account of it—is largely to blame 
for their non-appearance here. Color is lent to 
this view by the words of a friend of mine 
whose business calls him into Mexico every 
winter. He is a keen shot and tells of finding 
snipe there so fat and lazy that they hardly get 
out of the way. Shells cost too much in Mexico 
for anyone but a dyed-in-the-wool crank to 
bother at all with shooting such small birds. 
Mud hens are getting to be a serious pest 
here and menace not only the duck club men, 
but ranchers adjacent also. This is a sort of 
winter headquarters for these feathered hoboes. 
They are so ungainly in appearance that few 
attempt to eat them, although their flesh, after 
a month spent in spoiling gun club barley, is 
passable enough. The ponds are fairly black 
with them. At the first fire they swarm up and 
down the sloughs in lumbering flight unmolested. 
They could not be killed off with powder and 
shot; it would cost too much, and besides the 
bird is protected by a provision in the game law 
which fails to class them with the birds which 
may legally be shot at any time. Beside crop¬ 
ping all the natural feed they get most of that 
which is put out. The mud hens follow the 
wagon about from pond to pond and literally 
fight at the tailboard for the barley sowed broad¬ 
cast by the keepers. A rancher complained bit¬ 
terly to me, saying there was little use of him 
trying to put in a crop of barley. ■ What the mud 
hens did not get before it germinated they crop¬ 
ped so close to the ground that most of it died. 
It has been suggested that the proper way to 
handle the mud hen situation is to get the birds 
recognized as game and allow the markets to 
handle them, which would provide a good source 
of cheap food supply. This would never work. 
The markets aim to supply the demand rather 
than create it. It would take a lot of educa¬ 
tion to get the public interested in mud hens. 
The markets would not sell them cheap in any 
event; they prefer to make their profit by keep¬ 
ing the supply limited and the price high rather 
than by the wholesale method. Although this 
coast is wonderfully rich in fish, the price never 
gets under ten cents a pound, although it is 
nothing uncommon for tons of good fish to be 
dumped rather than glut the market. It is 
largely such things as this that have alienated 
the sympathies of the sportsmen from the deal¬ 
ers in fish and game. Wanton w'aste is inexcus¬ 
able. The fishermen never get over three cents 
a pound and oftener half that. Frequently their 
cargoes are refused; reason—“glutting the mar¬ 
ket.’’ Fish could be sold at five cents a pound 
and the poor would have a splendid cheap food 
supply, the dealers a bigger sale, and at least 
equal profit. But no one ever accused them of 
being philanthropists. Edwin L. Hedderly. 
Innocent African Animals. 
A correspondent, referring to severe criticisms 
of President Roosevelt which he has read in 
certain newspapers, because' the President is said 
to be going to Africa to kill helpless and inno¬ 
cent wild animals, asks for statistics showing the 
mortality of human beings caused by these “inno¬ 
cent wild animals.” 
We have no statistics for Africa, but have fre¬ 
quently published those for India which, if we 
recollect rightly, show from 20,000 to 25,000 per¬ 
sons killed annually by wild animals, including 
snakes. It is probable that the wild animals of 
Africa are just about as innocent as those of 
India. 
There was recently published in the World’s 
Work a very thrilling account by Col. Petterson, 
of the lions which a few years ago stopped the 
building of the Uganda Railroad by nightly com¬ 
ing into the camp of the workers on the road 
and carrying off men for food. After long 
efforts by a number of white men, during which 
at least one white man lost his life, these lions 
were finally killed, and the railroad was per¬ 
mitted to be built. If one may judge from the 
tales told by those who have hunted in Africa, 
or who have associated with hunters there, man- 
eating lions are very much more numerous than 
man-eating tigers in India, and leopards are very 
destructive. 
Camden F. and G. Protecfive Association. 
Camden, N. J., Jan. 20. —Editor Forest and 
Stream: We held our annual meeting last even¬ 
ing and elected the same officers we had last 
year except vice-president. Prof. D. J. Kelley 
was elected in place of A. H. Vandewalker. 
The officers are: President, A. H. Maloney; 
Vice-President, Prof. D. J. Kelley; Secretary, 
S. L. Harding; Treasurer, R. A. Magee. 
S. L. Harding, Sec’y. 
Fool Luck. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I left Chambersburg Nov. 14 on my first deer 
hunt. Ever since I was a boy I had wanted to 
go deer hunting, but until this season something 
had always prevented my going. 
Arriving at Richmond about 12 o’clock. Bill, 
my guide, met me and told me he had already 
been in and made camp, and had everything 
ready, and after dinner we started on our tramp 
across the mountains to our camp in Bear Val¬ 
ley nine or ten miles from Richmond. We 
reached there at 6 P. M. 
Supper over, we filled our pipes and planned 
the campaign for the next day. We turned in 
about 8 o’clock and I slept soundly until 4 
o’clock next morning, when I awoke to find that 
Bill had breakfast ready. After breakfast we 
started for a deer, crossing on top of the moun¬ 
tain, where Bill said we would see our first deer. 
We reached the crossing about daylight, and 
Bill said we should wait there until someone had 
started a deer, which would then come by us, 
and I was to kill it. Bill’s plan was all right, 
but it did not pan out that way. 
After waiting for an hour or more we heard 
someone shoot six times in succession. Bill 
said, “Git ready; he didn’t git him.” Pretty 
soon I heard a noise in the underbrush, and 
looking over that way I caught sight of my 
first wild deer. I shouted, “There he goes. Bill; 
ain’t he a dandy! Gee, ain’t he big!” 
Bill said, “Why don’t you shoot?” I had 
forgotten that I had a gun. I was too busy 
looking at the deer to think of shooting, until 
he was going up the other mountain; then I felt 
something in my hand, and upon investigating 
found it to be my rifle. The next half hour was 
devoted to lecturing. Bill doing the talking while 
I listened. I never knew that one man could 
remember so much strong language or could 
repeat it so fast, without his tongue catching 
fire. 
Bill was so disgusted he wanted to quit hunt¬ 
ing for the day, but I would not hear of that, 
and at last he consented to keep on. We started 
to follow the tracks across the next mountain, 
there being about four inches of snow on the 
ground. In the next valley I got separated from 
Bill. I think he lost me on purpose. At all 
events after wandering around for a time I came 
across some deer tracks and followed them. 
Presently I came to a small clearing where 
someone had cut telephone poles, and, being 
tired, I sat on a stump to rest and eat my lunch, 
then started on again, and at length came to a 
lot of trees that had not yet been trimmed out. 
I had gotten almost over them when my foot 
slipped and down I went into a pile of treetops 
on the other side, and almost on top of a deer. 
I do not know which of us was the worst scared. 
I think I must have been, because I did not 
move, while the deer ran off. After a bit I got 
to my knees and began to look about for the 
deer. I caught sight of him just as he was 
crossing a ravine about a hundred yards away. 
Then the little .25-20 spoke three, times and the 
deer dropped to his knees just about the time 
I got up from mine. Once more I fired and 
the deer passed on to the happy hunting grounds 
—if that is where deer go when they die. 
Talk about people being happy! I thought 
I was it with a capital I. While I was dressing 
