FOREST AND STREAM 
OH: 
and PISTOL 
CARTRIDGES 
Dependable 
in Any Make of Arm 
r 
M EN took to Revolver and Pistol Shooting as a sport. Got to 
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REMINGTON ARMS-UNION METALLIC CARTRIDGE CO. 
W00LWORTII BLDG. (233 Broadway) NEW YORK CITY 
WHERE OTHERS DO NOT GO. 
HAVE found that trips for sport please 
me more when I go where others do not 
go. So one day when a trip was planned 
for combined fishing and hunting and I found 
San Clemente Island was the destination, I con¬ 
sented at once to join the party. 
The next Wednesday night at ten o’clock was 
set as the time for the start and promptly on 
time, George Dawson, Thad Stevens, Doctor Par¬ 
ker and myself, met on the Long Beach pier all 
loaded down, with blankets, grub, rods and rifles. 
At the boat landing Captain Paul Anderson and 
Engineer T homas Albricht of the gasolene launch, 
Eagle, met us. Everything being ready we 
boarded the Eagle and started at once for our 
destination via Catalina Island. 
The night is bright; the sky is glittering with 
lights, the ocean is smooth; the engine works 
perfectly and with a foresail to help, we run the 
twenty-seven miles and anchor in Avalon Har¬ 
bor, Santa Catalina, at two o’clock in the morn¬ 
ing. Three hours sleep in the bunks and we trip 
anchor and tie up to the Avalon pier for break¬ 
fast at the cafe. Six o’clock and we are on our 
way to San Clemente; ten thirty and down goes 
the anchor in the harbor of San Clemente Island 
and a boat containing one occupant is putting 
off from shore. A1 Shade is the boatman’s 
name and he is so pleased to see someone that 
he insists we must come ashore and have dinner 
with him. Arrangements are soon made that we 
will catch a few fish and come ashore at noon. 
The question is asked, “Where is the best place 
to fish. Al?” “Fish!” replied Al, “Just look over 
the side!” 
And such a sight! sandy bottom about fifty feet 
under water and perch, bass, white fish and sheep- 
head of all sizes, reflecting the sunlight in a 
medley of bright colors. It was just a problem 
of dropping the baited hook in front of the fish 
desired when with a rush Mr. Fish took the bait. 
The fish were small—two to five pounds—and we 
confined ourselves mostly to bass, as they are 
the most edible. A sufficient number having 
been caught to supply us with plenty to eat, we 
gathered up our supplies and Al rowed us ashore 
to his camp. 
Imagine a cove with a small, deep harbor, a 
sandy beach for about a hundred yards, back of 
that a knoll, and then the mountains arising 
straight up for a mile. 
Upon a knoll, a small well-made house con¬ 
structed of rough lumber and canvas—three 
rooms; kitchen, dining room and bed room erect¬ 
ed under the only trees I saw on the island. 
There is scarcely any vegetation excepting cactus, 
sage brush and mesquite. 
Al Shade lives there the year round and makes 
a good living entertaining fishing parties. Sword¬ 
fish, tuna or smaller fish, whatever it is you want 
to catch, Al know where it is, can furnish the 
bait and cook for you—and such a cook! Such 
chowders! absolutely the best ever. Fish cooked 
any way wanted, and there are any kinds of fish 
to cook. 
Dinner finished, we go about a mile along the 
shore and spend the afternoon fishing for the 
five or ten pound little fellows of all kinds. 
Nothing remarkable about the afternoon outside 
of the number and variety of fish caught. 
We harbor again and Al’s fish chowder, hot 
biscuits, tomatoes stewed, three kinds of fish and 
goat cutlets, stowed away, we get our rifles ready 
and all start in different directions up the moun¬ 
tains to ambush the wild goats as they come 
down off the tableland at dark. After a hard 
climb and many rests to regain my wind, I found 
myself skirting the edge of a deep ravine, round¬ 
ing a jutting rock. A billy, three nannies and a 
kid see me about the same time that I see them. 
They are about fifty yards away and I drop one 
while they stop, startled, and the billy and an¬ 
other nannie while they are jumping a wide fis¬ 
sure. The other nannie and the kid disappeared 
over the rocks. 
The goat first shot was easy to reach but the 
other two were across a fifteen foot fissure that 
was so deep I could not get to them. 
It was nearly dark, so I shouldered the goat 
and started back. Darkness came suddenly at it 
does in that part of the country, about -eight 
o clock, and such a time as I had getting back to 
Al s camp! I rolled the goat down cliffs and 
found a way down for myself. I never could 
have made it had it not been for my pocket 
flashlight and as it was I don’t believe there 
was a square inch of my body that did not have 
from one to fifty cactus needles sticking in it 
when I reached camp. 
I found Thad Stevens there ahead of me. He 
