forest and stream 
295 
The B u c k Law 
(With apologies to Mr. Dooley.) 
By W. H. Bentley 
^ I 1 HALEN,” I says, “I’ve been raydin’ in 
I th’ Fa-arest an’ Sthrame paper a pile 
iv late ’bout th’ book la-aw iv th’ sthate 
iv Noo Yorruck; an’ f’r th’ loife iv me I can’t 
git th’ roights iv ut.” 
“Pwhat’s th’ thruble,” he says. 
“Ut’s this way,” I says. “Thar’s thim ut 
wants t shoot th dhoes iv the deer ala-ang wid 
th books, so as t’ persoorve th’ game fr’m ex- 
tinkshun; an on th ither hand iz thim ut says 
’t’iz enuff t’ shoot on’y th’ books f’r th’ same 
poorpus.” 
An phwat’s th’ p’ints iv th’ argymint ut both- 
ers ye, he says. “Ain’t ut plain az th’ nose on 
yer face, kapin’ th’ prime objek iv consoorva- 
shun in moind, av ye shoots th’ moothers az will 
az, th fa-athers iv th’ fambly, y’r makin’ twi’ist 
th’ progress yu’d be makin’ av ye shot but th’ 
wan? Ut luks t’ me, Donovan, az iv thim ut 
wants t’ shoot both, haz got th’ ithers nailed t 
th’ floor.” 
“So it wud same, Phalen,” I says; “but not 
bein’ a hunther, they’s things ye don’t ondersthan 
bout th’ matther. Ye see, whin ye’r hunthin’ 
th’ deer, ut’s difficult says th’ pa-arties iv th’ 
foorst pa-art, t’ till th’ dhoes fr’m th’ books; an 
noinety-noine times out iv a hunderd whin they 
blazes away at a book, they knocks down a dhoe; 
an’ ut bein’ at prisint onla-awful to shoot th’ 
same, they laves the karkiss on th’ sphot an’ 
legs ut out iv thim pa-arts, f’r fear th’ game 
wardin wud lug ’em to coort t’ pay a fine. Av 
coorse, bein’ considtherate aven though near¬ 
sighted, ’t’wud be natcherul av they waz t’ in- 
strooct th’ guide t’ put a ma-ark be th’ sphot, so 
av inny lovyers was t’ coom meandtherin’ al’ang 
that way in th’ doosk, they wudn’t fa-all over 
th’ karkiss an’ git hoorted; an’ ut’s loikely they 
duz that same. Besoides, th’ indivigle ut shot 
th’ dhoe might himsilf be sthrollin’ al-ang there 
arther da-ark; an’ silf-persoorvashun iv th’ shins 
iz th foorst la-aw of naycher. There’s lots iv 
mate wasted that way, ye see, on account iv th’ 
near-sightedness iv most hunthers; whereas, av 
’t’wuz la-awful t’ shoot th’ dhoes, th’r wud be 
nawthin’ prejoodishul to afflikted eyes amoong 
thim ut takes th’ consoorvashun iv game so 
mooch t’ ha-art, an’ incidinshully they wud be 
a divvle iv a lot of good mate saved. 
Both pa-arties t’ th’ argymint iz contindin’ 
f’r th’ same princypal, ye see, Phalen. Both iz 
consarned t’ persoorve th’ game fr’m extinck- 
shun, an th’ on’y p’int iv diffrunce bechune ’em 
iz . wh , ich iz th ’ betther way t’ do ut. Th’ mere 
gittin’ iv a deer karkiss to take back an’ show 
thim that ain’t got th’ price iv thravelin’ ix- 
pinses, an’ boord ut a sphortin’ camp, an’ t’ hoire 
guides that can shoot sthraight an’ ain’t near¬ 
sighted don’t figger in th’ case ut a-all. Av 
coorse,” I says, “ut’s soome sthrain on human 
naycher, whin a near-sighted hunther wa-alks 
up t’ th’ deer him an’ th’ guide fired at, an’ finds 
ut’s a_ dhoe, espeshully whin th’ day befure yis- 
tiddy a frind iv his’n coom wa-alkin’ into camp 
behind a book wid la-ang hoorns that th’ guide 
waz loogin. Logickly, th’ foorst wan continds 
that iv th’ game iz to be persoorved fr’m ex- 
tinckshun, ut shud be la-awful to shoot th’ 
dhoes; while th’ sicond wan continds ut’s bein’ 
persoorved fast enuff be shooting on’y books; 
an so bechune th’ two th’ argymint breaks out.” 
“Why th’ divvle,” says Phalen, “don’t they 
git th la-aw changed, so on’y th’ dhoes can be 
shot? Thin, instid iv shootin’ th’ wrong deer 
noinety-noine times out iv a hoonderd, ut wud 
on’y be wanst out iv th’ same.” 
Good Loi d ! Phalen,” I says. “Phwat makes 
ye so thick? Changin’ th’ la-aw wud on’y defate 
ut s own poorpus. That wudn’t imphroove th’ 
eyesight iv a hunther. Don’t ye see that thin, 
insthead iv shootin’ noinety-noine dhoes. thim 
near-sighted hunthers wud shoot noinety-noine 
books be misthake? Thin th’ diffyrunt pa-arties 
wud have to change sides in th’ argymint. Whin 
ye a-are supphortin’ a princypul, Phalen,” I says, 
“ye can’t be changin’ sides a-all th’ toime.” 
“I dinnaw ’bout that, Donovan,” he says. “I 
have an oidee on th’ p’int, an’ we’ll coom t’ iT 
later. How is ut,” he says, “thim hunthers can’t 
till a book fr m a dhoe. Ain’t th’ books got 
hoorns ?” 
“Yis,” I says, “they have whin they’re grown 
up; but whin they’s yoong,” I says, “thim that 
continds f’r th’ priv-lije iv shootin’ th’moothers 
az will az th fa-athers iv th’ deer fambl-ies in 
urdher t’ persoorve th’ game fr’m extinckshun, 
insists ut no wan can till ’em fr’m dhoes. I 
ain t noticed, I says, that anny iv ’em whote 
t’ th’ Fa-arest an’ Sthream ut he made th’ mis¬ 
thake himsilf an kilt a dhoe; but they’re a-all 
trimblin’, they says, f’r fear ut th’ supphorters 
iv th’ book la-aw will shoot a-aff a-all th’ dhoes 
be misthake, an’ git ahead iv ’em in persoorvin’ 
th’ game.” 
“I see; I see,” says Phalen. “’Tis ra-ally a 
problem afther a-all. I ain’t had no expery- 
unce wid game,” he says; “but I notis th’ princy¬ 
pul iv th’ perpetchiashun iv speshies is gin’rully 
the same ivrywhere. They waz kittens in me 
cellar a-all th’ toime I kep’ a tabby cat; but 
afther Pat Mulligan’s dawg shuk her backbone 
apa-art, they wasn’t no mure kittens. They 
waz niver anny dhoes round me primises f’r me 
observashun; but I’d loike dom will to have 
soom wan till me how th’ divvle ye can raise 
deer whin th’ dhoes iz a-all kilt a-aff, or a tabby 
cat have a fambly whin her backbone is bruk 
in two. Ye can remimber, Donovan,” he says, 
“whin they waz millyuns iv thim booffyloes 
rootin’ round out Wist. They wasn’t anny book 
la-aw thin; an’ ivry moog wid a goon waz bizzy 
persoorvin’ ’em. Whin they got t’roo, ivry wan 
iv thim was persoorved. 
“Soom hunthers, Donovan,” he says, “whin 
they sees annythin to shoot, gits so near-sighted 
they can’t till a hoomin’ bur’rd fr’m a roosther, 
or a jack-rabbit fr’m an illyfunt. Aven a book 
la-aw ain’t iffictive ag’inst that koind; but, Dono¬ 
van, av ye waz to jail a few iv ’em ivery toime 
they got near-sighted, ut wudden’t be la-ang 
befure they cud till a moskeeter fr’m a black 
fly, siven miles a-aff. Waz ye iver hunthin’ 
yersilf, Donovan?” 
“I waz,” I says, “a good manny toimes.” 
“Did ye shoot annythin?” he says. 
“I did,” I says. 
“Phwat did ye shoot?” he says. 
“A good manny dhoes, an’ wanst in a while a 
book,” I says. 
“The divvle,” he says. “Was ye attackted wid 
near-sightedness yuresilf?” he says. 
I was not, I says. “They waz no book 
la-aw where I wint, an’ therefure no occayshun 
t’ git near-sighted,” I says. 
“ An ’ cud ye till a book fr’m a dhoe?” he says. 
“I had no diffyculty t’ spheak iv,” I says. “I 
niver wanst shot a dhoe be misthake.” 
“Will, th’re ye a-are,” he says. “’Tis just az 
I tilled ye befure. Th’ pa-arty iv th’ sicond 
pa-art that continds f’r th’ persoorvashun iv 
game be shootin on y th’ books, ain’t got no 
mure show ’n a fince poster wid a billy-go-at. 
But sphakin’ akydimikally, nayther iv ’em iz 
toochin’ th’ mate iv th’ sitchiashun, whativer th’ 
divvle becoomes iv th’ acktul mate that’s 
sphotted out so ut no meandtherin’ lovyers can 
bruk their shins on ut. ’T’is th’ sycolygy iv th’ 
matther ut nayther iv ’em rayconizes,” he says. 
“Don’t ye see, Donovan, ut whin they’s no book 
la-aw, they s no thruble wid th’ eyesight, an’ a 
hunther can till a book fr’m a dhoe t’ wanst. 
Be a sillyjism,” he says, “whin th’ hunther can 
till a book fr’m a dhoe, he ain’t goin’ t’ shoot 
inny iv th’ latther, an’ the’ princypul f’r which 
both pa-arties iz contindin’, is safe. Wid th’ 
book la-aw in foorce, dhoes now gits kilt on’y 
be misthake; but av ye trun out th’ la-aw, noone 
iv ’em will be kilt at a-all, at a-all, an’ th’ hull 
argymint blows oop be its own weight.” 
“Be th’ pipes, Phalen, y’re roight,” I says. 
“I know I am,” he says. 
“Phalen,” I says, az we wint in be th’ side 
dure, “will ye have a horn yerself?” 
March io, 1915. 
WOLF BIOGRAPHY 
(Continued from page 287.) 
sponded from the top of every jutting rock” 
(page 336). 
As hundreds of American and English sports¬ 
men have hunted in the Stikine River region and 
have never seen a wolf or even heard one, it may 
suggest that the future method iij hunting this 
skulking animal should be on the sky-line at mid¬ 
night, when ‘ the wolf in the moon” would present 
an encircled target, much like that seen through 
a Lyman sight. The fact that the precise color, 
size, attitude, leadership and distinctive notes of 
these animals can be detected from a camp-fire 
would give accurate shooters a chance to kill 
without leaving their comfortable surroundings, 
while those of less accuracy in aim could sit just 
below the lunar trails and pot them as they 
went by. —G. S. 
HOW TO TELL A BOILED EGG 
An egg is an egg—on the outside at least— 
but sometimes it is difficult to tell whether it is 
raw or boiled, unless its antecedents are familiar. 
One day last summer in Maine our guide put 
a plate on the ground and began whirling an egg 
on it. One after the other he spun on the plate 
and finally put two of them aside. These he 
broke and put in the coffee. I asked what the 
whirling was for. He told me that that was 
how he could tell a boiled egg from a raw one. 
A boiled egg will keep spinning while a raw one 
will stop dead. And it is so. 
