G 58 
FOREST AND STREAM 
May 25, 1912 
pursuer, Skeezik resorted to kicking. His execu¬ 
tion of this determination was so sudden that I 
barely escaped his heels. Not so the dashboard, 
but as this was a creation of wrought iron and 
strong leather, it still retained its shape, though 
the force of the impact bent it over as one 
would close the cover of a book. 
Still the brute ran, and we laid out a mighty 
ellipse on the plain. As we came down the 
home stretch, the pace began to tell, and the 
foam-covered animal flew with lessened speed. 
Finally, as we came toward the starting point, 
Skeezik appeared to realize that the wagon was 
there to stay, and with his accustomed philo¬ 
sophical way of looking at things, he yielded the 
point and came dowm to a demure walk, main¬ 
taining the same till we reached the starting 
place. 
John, who had watched our mad career first 
with fright, and then with amusement, declared 
that I must have some Roman blood in my veins 
and that my ancestors must have been chariot¬ 
eers. We gave Skeezik a good rubbing down, 
tied the wheels of the wagon and returned to 
the shack and made preparations for breaking 
camp. Somehow it seemed like giving up an old 
home. We had worked hard at tidying up the 
place, and in planning for the future we had em¬ 
ployed many a pleasant hour, and now it was all 
to go for naught. It seemed as if we had al¬ 
ways known each other, though but a few days 
comparatively had elapsed since we met for the 
first time. But conditions such as we were placed 
under have a tendency to cement friendships 
quickly and firmly. John insisted that I should 
take most of the provisions, for he said he would 
be better able to supply himself than I would. 
He even offered to accompany me until we 
reached a ranch, but I assured him that this 
was unnecessary. 
We replaced such articles belonging to the 
house as we had used in practically the same 
condition as we found them, ate supper and 
passed our last evening together. We made 
faithful promises to write each other at the first 
possible moment. (I did write on receipt of a 
letter some three months afterward, in which 
he said he and his uncle failed to harmonize, 
and that he contemplated going to California. I 
have never heard from him since, and if this 
sketch comes to his notice he will know that I 
have not forgotten him.) 
True to John’s prediction, the chills returned 
the next morning with increased severity. I 
shivered with cold, was burned up with fever 
and drenched with perspiration alternately till 
past the middle of the forenoon, when the symp¬ 
toms abated. We both felt that I ought to lose 
no time in getting to where I could receive treat¬ 
ment, consequently when the chill passed I took 
a stiff dose of corn whiskey and loaded up the 
wagon. John was enthusiastic in praise of that 
wagon after he had carefully Inspected it, find¬ 
ing it sound and strong. 
“After the banging you gave it yesterday, it’s 
a wonder there’s a whole piece in its make-up.’’ 
He was also unstinted in his praise of the pony's 
running qualities, declaring Skeez'k to be the 
toughest bit of horseflesh he had ever seen. 
I will not tax the reader’s patience with a de¬ 
tailed history of my experience between that 
lone shack in the Arkansas bottoms and the little 
working station at the then terminus of the Santa 
Fe line, some distance north of Vinita. Long 
before I reached the railway I was suffering 
from daily attacks of the “shakes’’ in their worst 
form. Much of the time I was practically ob¬ 
livious to the course taken by Skeezik, who was 
left to his own sweet will. And I most heartily 
pay him the sincere tribute of true gratitude, as 
I recall how he piloted me over those trackless 
wastes with an almost human instinct. True, he 
carried me many long tedious miles out of the 
course that I had planned to follow, but he did 
it in safety, much of the time without care, food 
or water. 
I forded many streams, in some instances the 
water coming into the wagon box. One day, 
after striking a wagon trail, I came to quite a 
broad river—the Verdigris, I think—where the 
wheel tracks led down to the brink, denoting, to 
my mind, that it was a fordable stream. But 
Skeezik positively refused to enter the water. 
As this was unusual for him, I believed that he 
was developing a spirit of insubordination, so I 
applied the whip with vigor, but to no purpose. 
The brute simply thrust his fore feet into the 
sand and stood immovable, taking his punish¬ 
ment with dogged stoicism. I was getting all 
out of patience when from the thicket beside 
the trail came a voice: “Hey, strawnger, wot 
you ’uns tryin’ t’ do?” 
Before I could reply, a brawny specimen of 
femininity, wearing a man’s frock coat and along 
pair of rubber boots emerged from the bush 
with a long tin horn on which she sounded a 
blast that sent the echoes ricochetting over to 
the other shore. 
Then out of the overhanging bushes there 
slowly floated a big raft, which I could see was 
attached to a cable by two painters and a pair 
of pulleys. The raft was propelled by a man 
and a boy who seized the cable with cant-hook¬ 
like contrivances and pulled with main strength. 
Reaching my side of the stream the crew car¬ 
ried the cable end a distance up-stream, where 
they made it fast. This, the man assured me, 
was to take advantage of the force of the cur¬ 
rent to propel the loaded raft. Skeezik stepped 
gingerly upon this strange craft, but required no 
urging. 
“How deep is the water?” I asked the ferryman. 
“ ’Bout forty feet ’t this season o’ year.” 
Then I appreciated Skeezik’s reluctance to 
enter, and going to his head I patted and hugged 
him and he understood. 
Eventually I reached the railway, near its 
southern terminus, and found a teamster who 
consented to take care of Skeezik until such time 
as I could send for him. 
There were no regular trains running, but a 
construction train with a boxcar attached was 
about starting for the distributing point no miles 
up the road. Telling the conductor who I was 
and showing him a thousand-mile ticket which 
I had over the completed portion of the road, 
I secured permission to occupy the boxcar till 
we reached the point where I could take a 
regular train. 
I had already gotten through with that day's 
shake, but the extra exertion, excitement or 
something brought on a second attack, and I 
lay on the floor of the car and shook myself 
into semi-oblivion. I have no clear recollection 
of the remainder of that long, tedious journey 
to Kansas City. I remember go’ng to the desk 
of a hotel and telling the landlord I was very 
ill and must have a bed. 
Then followed weeks, most of which time is 
a blank to me, as I was seized with intermittent 
fever, and being so reduced by my long fight 
ere getting remedies, I was too dll, even on the 
“off” time of the fever, to take cognizance of 
my surroundings. It was three months ere I 
vvas able to board a train for the East. 
I left instructions for Skeezik to be brought 
to the city when I got better, but found that 
owing to the length of time elapsed since I left 
him, he had been sold for his keep. Whoever 
bought him secured an equine jewel, and with 
all solemnity I say it, if there is such a thing 
as reward for faithful service outside the genus 
homo, I mentally award the richest of all to 
Skeezik. 
Deer in Captivity. 
BY R.\LEIGH RAINES. 
That the raising of deer is becoming popular 
is evidenced by the large number in deer parks 
and private preserves in this country. The deer 
expert of the Government estimates that there 
are between 50,000 and 60,000 deer in private pre¬ 
serves in the United States, including all kinds 
foreign and native varieties. He states that Mis¬ 
souri has the largest number of deer within her 
borders, the total number being near to 5,000, 
one preserve on the White River in that State 
having several thousand head. New Jersey and 
Pennsylvania having, it is estimated, over 3000 
each. While no complete census of the deer in 
parks and preserves in the United States has ever 
been taken, several States requiring licenses for 
keeping deer are thus enabled to know with 
moderate accuracy the total number within the 
State borders. Of course no estimate can be 
made of the wild deer, but their number appears 
to be very large. The Biological Survey of the 
Department of Agriculture has been encouraging 
deer raising, and believes that deer may be raised 
for the market or home consumption as cheaply, 
if not cheaper, than beef. Venison has been plen¬ 
tiful in the Washington markets during the pres¬ 
ent season and sold for fifty cents per pound with 
a steady demand, though not over popular, as the 
high price prevents any but the rich from enjoy¬ 
ing what was once the food of common people 
in the early days. That the United States Gov¬ 
ernment might use the national forest reserves 
for the propagation of our native game animals 
such as deer, elk, antelope, moose, appears to be 
a practicable thing to do. There are at present 
165 national forest reservations comprising ap¬ 
proximately 198,000,000 acres with about 8.000 
foresters and forest rangers employed. These 
reservations might well be stocked, with the 
native game under the supervision of the rangers 
which would cost very little. After the game 
had increased to a certain number, the people 
might be allowed to kill certain numbers of the 
game thus raised, the number to be taken an¬ 
nually to be regulated by law. This policy, if 
followed; would operate to preserve the native 
game, and at the same time furnish a great num¬ 
ber of people with opportunities to enjoy at 
least an occasional taste of venison. It is en¬ 
couraging to note that a number of organizations 
have lately taken up this proposition to stock 
the forest reservations with native game, and if 
the matter is sufficiently agitated, it may yet be 
realized. While black bear meat has also been 
plentiful in this market at thirty cents per pound. 
