IOl 2 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 29, 1907. 
Spring and Summer Shooting. 
Bennington, Vt., June 15 -— Editor Forest and 
Stream: I would like to consume a little of 
Forest and Stream’s valuable space and register 
a protest against spring shooting. By this I do 
not mean the killing of wildfowl alone, but all 
birds and animals, game and otherwise. I know 
I will be criticised for this as being too radical. 
I may be a crank on the subject, but if so I 
might as well come out in the open, admit it 
and take my. medicine. But I have noticed that 
in these days of game destruction, the man who 
is in the woods most soon becomes a crank and 
opposed to all forms of slaughter. _ However, 
I have reasons for my views and believe I can 
convince almost any rational “man behind the 
gun” that shooting birds or animals in May or 
June is morally wrong—even though it is per¬ 
mitted by law. I have had 'an • experience this 
spring that has convinced me’that spring shoot¬ 
ing is nothing less than inhuman and downright 
cruelty. 
April, May and June is the season of mating, 
nesting and hatching with birds; breeding and 
nursing with animals. To kill the mother animal 
while her young are nursing, or the mother bird 
on her nest, or while her little ones, are too 
feeble to care for themselves, is nothing short 
of gross brutality. Call it what you may it is 
virtually an inhuman act nevertheless. Is man 
to become an agent of ruthless destruction in 
our forests beautiful? Are we not supposed to 
be above the dumb brutes? Do we not possess 
emotions of pity, mercy and kindness? 
Man is presumed to have a faculty for reason¬ 
ing, and yet how is it so many men will thought¬ 
lessly slay harmless birds and animals in the 
spring? There is some excuse for destroying 
wolves and their litters, or other dangerous 
predatory animals when they become a menace 
to either man or beast, at any time, but when 
a man kills a black bear, a fox, a raccoon, a 
heron, an owl, or even a woodchuc^ (unless 
they are doing him actual damage) in April or 
May, just because the law does not prohibit it, 
it shows the absolute necessity for game laws, 
and even more stringent measures than we now 
have on our statute books. I hope to see . the 
time when the laws of all our States will strictly 
forbid spring shooting, and thus protect the in¬ 
habitants of our forests while raising their young. 
During April, May and June of this year I have 
seen seven woodchucks, two bears, a fox and a 
raccoon—all females nursing their young—ruth¬ 
lessly slaughtered and their offspring left to 
starve in the woods. Besides these I have wit¬ 
nessed several birds fairly shot off of their nests. 
As we have no laws to protect these creatures 
all we edn do is to offer a discreet protest and 
permit the slaughter to go merrily on. Do these 
acts appear like the deeds of rational human 
beings, or are they different from the actions 
of wild beasts? New York is far in advance of 
most of the eastern States in that it protects 
more of the wild animals during the breeding 
season. 
Often we hear sportsmen ridicule the idea of 
protecting the black bear and the fox, but what 
animals afford finer sport for hunting in the fall 
and winter? Are they becoming, so numerous 
that they must be left unprotected in the spring? 
If there is any particular locality where this is 
so, it is only necessary to call the attention of 
eager sportsmen to- the fact, and the fox and 
bear will remain a nuisance in that section a 
very short time. Another thing: I am unable to 
discover wherein woodchucks do any damage on 
our wild lands. Their cheerful whistle at noon¬ 
day is a welcome sound in the summer camp, 
and their antics very amusing. If one ’chuck 
does damage to a farmer’s clover field is that 
anv reason to condemn and kill the entire 
species? What harm does a raccoon do? Their 
fur is of no -value in the spring and they are 
not fit to eat. Suppose they do kill chickens. 
How often in these days will you find ’coons 
getting so numerous and bold in spring as to 
invade the farmer’s hen roost?. Wait till fall, 
then Mr. Coon’s coat will be prime and he will 
be rolling in fat. 
The mother wildcat seldom wanders far from 
her kittens in the spring, yet I have known men 
to go in search of them, dig them out and shoot 
them. If one gives the matter thought he will 
find that most of these complaints against wild 
creatures were handed down from the days when 
our forests were fairly teeming with birds and 
animals, and some species became a pest of the 
pioneers. Other indictments are founded on vague 
ideas and theories, not consistent with present 
day facts and conditions. Then there is the 
heron, owl, hawk and crow. They are all be¬ 
yond the pale of the law, and still I cannot be¬ 
lieve it is man’s duty to kill them whenever 
and wherever found. They have their place in 
the scheme of nature and were here long before 
the white man and his gun took to the woods. 
Just suppose for a moment that every.bird and 
animal not protected by law were killed and 
the species extinct. Then we would have only 
game birds and animals, and our forests would 
be so lonesome that man would find it a dreary 
place to pass his summer vacation. So, again 
I ask, why kill in the spring at all? In the fall 
a sportsman’s thoughts naturally revert to his 
dog and gun, and he will then find the game 
fat, prime and full of vitality—worthy of his 
best efforts in securing it. But in the. spring 
nature provides for replenishing the species, and 
this ought to be permitted to transpire without 
the interference of man. Let the sportsman cast 
aside his gun in the spring and look to his rod 
and tackle" The wary trout calls him then, and 
he can go. after it in a quiet way without dis¬ 
turbing the weary animals which have sought 
seclusion to bring forth their young. In many 
States and some of the Provinces of Canada the 
lawmakers are being continually called upon to 
forbid carrying firearms upon the wild lands 
during close season. A good idea, and the earn¬ 
est men behind these measures know just what 
good will be accomplished by such a law. What 
"does a man want his rifle in a summer camp 
for, anyway? It is to “protect” himself, he will 
tell you. Protect himself against what? Is 
there any record of late years of a person being 
attacked unprovoked and devoured by a wild 
animal in America ? Oh! no; a man wants his 
rifle with him so he can violate the law, or else 
slay some innocent creature not protected by 
law. Another reason why a man should leave 
his high power rifle at home in summer is that, 
although his intentions may be ever so good 
when he starts, his environment in the woods 
and the innate craving and temptation to kill 
something, are likely to get the better of his 
good resolutions. For instance, if this man and 
a companion find themselves alone in some re¬ 
mote section, far from the route of the game 
protectors, and often see a prize head in the 
vicinity of their camp, with their rifles right at 
hand, the temptation is generally too much for 
them. If they had left their, rifles at home the 
matter would not bother them. 
I have a case in mind now. A city man came 
to Vermont and camped on the shores of a small 
lake. He took his rifle along, more as a com¬ 
panion than anything else and to get a little 
practice before fall. He was out fishing one 
afternoon when a doe came down to the shores. 
He admired her beauty, but seing his rifle in 
the boat handy; a little persuasion by his com¬ 
panion overcame his scruples and he shot the 
deer. Now'he regrets it, but if he had left his 
rifle at home he would not be a fugitive from 
justice. The- man who carries a high power 
rifle with him into a summer camp invariably 
does so with the intent or expectant hope of 
getting fresh meat for his table, and he ought to 
be restrained and prevented from so doing by 
the iron hand of the law. Harry Chase, 
County Warden. 
Notes on New Brunswick. 
Philadelphia, June 22. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: New Brunswick is such a well known 
hunting ground that any remarks concerning it 
seem almost superfluous. Nevertheless, certain 
reflections concerning a recent trip may not be 
devoid of interest to the readers of Forest and 
Stream. 
I noted, as a natural but striking result of 
enforced game laws and hard hunting, the ex¬ 
traordinary number of cow moose seen and the 
great rarity of bull moose, and learned anew the 
importance to the sportsmen of self, rather than 
guide, reliance. After a few evenings and morn¬ 
ings of moose calling I allowed the guide to go 
first to a screen of bushes beyond which he 
thought he had heard a moose walking, although 
my old ears had detected no sound; the result 
was a loss of a close shot at a magnificent old 
moose, whose trophy would have been a joy 
for a lifetime. Finally, after sixteen days of 
fruitless labor, early mornings and evenings, 
half an hour after sunset of a very dark rainy 
night, a bull moose appeared in the edge of the 
woods skirting the opposite shore of the lake 
we were on and looking directly toward us. . 
“He sees us,” said the guide; “you must shoot- 
quickly.” 
“How far off is he?” 
“About 250 yards.” 
Holding somewhat high I fired, expecting to 
miss because it was not possible to see the rifle 
sights clearly. The animal staggered, and walked 
directly toward us obliquely. I shot for his 
front shoulder, then the guide began shooting. 
The moose did not move away, and directly, 
stopping the guide, I fired again, when our 
•victim went down. We found that each of my 
three bullets had inflicted a mortal wound, and 
that the guide had hit him once out of his three 
shots. But, alas! the head was only mediocre. 
The two most interesting sights we met with 
in New Brunswick were provided, one with 
four, one with two legs. The female moose at 
night in the small ponds, syrimming, diving, dis¬ 
porting themselves in general like wild ducks; 
when bottom feeding sometimes entirely covered 
in the dep water. More often with their great 
hind legs kicking up in the air, they stayed under 
water until it seemed impossible that they should 
come up alive. The value of the enormous 
muscle which they have for closing their nostrils 
is a very apparent adaptation to environment, 
and it may be that their great noses act as 
chambers for reserve air. 
The Canadian jay (Perisoreus canadensis), 
moose bird, camp robber, sometimes also known 
as the ghost bird.from the peculiar effect of its 
light gray coat and noiseless flittings in the late 
twilight, or at night within the radius of the 
fire light, inhabits eastern Canada, but I have 
never seen it so abundant and tame as in New 
Brunswick. Our guide taught us how to snare-' 
it without pain or injury. A branch half an 
inch thick at base and four or five feet, long js 
cut of a wood (usually maple or birch) so elastic 
that the ends can be brought together into a loop. 
A small hole is bored through the butt about 
an inch from the end and a loop of string about 
a foot long is firmly tied to the smaller end of the 
twig. A peg of wood- about the thickness of 
a pencil and six or eight inches long is sharp¬ 
ened at one end to receive the bait, and the 
