FOREST AND STREAM. 
[July 25, 1908. 
Ii6 
awhile, located the sentinel, and also located a 
convenient and accessible mesquite tree. I drew 
a bead on the hindquarters of the sentinel. As 
the rifle cracked he certainly did “sing.” The 
herd rushed up to him, nosed him over and ran 
around him for perhaps three or four minutes; 
then, either winding or catching sight of me, 
they charged in my direction. I hastily ascended 
the tree and prepared for action. The tree I 
had chosen allowed me to get perhaps six feet 
above the ground. The herd rushed around the 
tree, looking up, stamping their feet and gnash¬ 
ing their tusks. These tusks are about three 
inches long and as sharp as a knife and are kept 
so by the fact that the upper and lower tusks 
glide on one another, and so wear themselves 
sharp. When aroused, the peccaries make a 
sort of champing .noise as they open and shut 
their mouths. I have been told it is sure death 
to any person or animal caught on the ground 
that they attack when they are aroused. As 
often as a boar came where I could kill him 
dead, I shot him. Meantime I dispatched the 
wounded sentinel, and after I had killed sixteen 
of the herd, the rest tore off into the chaparral. 
I made sure they were gone for good before 
descending. It was quite an experience! At 
no time was I in danger.' I had seventy-five 
cartridges in my pockets, each one good for 
a peccary. They could not climb and did not 
know enough to root up the tree. Furthermore 
they will not keep one treed after dark. But I 
have satisfied myself, and in the future if I kill 
one of them I will “kill it dead.” 
A good story is told of a Northerner who 
purchased a ranch near here. At the con¬ 
clusion of the sale the Texan remarked that he 
had five or six hundred wild hogs on the ranch 
and for $600 he would give the purchaser a bill 
of sale for all of them. He informed the tender¬ 
foot that his brand was to cut off the tail, so 
whenever a tailless hog was found, he could 
claim it. The Texan, having conveyed all the 
javelin and received his money, proceeded to 
tell all of the neighbors of the bargain. Conse¬ 
quently every week or so some neighbor would 
ride over and report a drove of tailless hogs on 
his ranch. It was only after several months of 
hard work in rescuing his “pigs” that the 
tenderfoot “caught on.” However, in justice 
to the Texan, it must be told that he returned 
his money and explained his practical joke. 
As already stated, our first half day’s hunt 
was unproductive of venison. So after dinner 
we separated. The ranchman took the “Kid” 
to his “Garden of Eden.” This was a large 
mesquite arrova, where deer are always abun¬ 
dant. No shooting is done there unless the 
table is in urgent need. They took their sta¬ 
tion and sat for perhaps two hours. A greater 
part of the time deer were in sight—in fact, 
within rifle range—but they were does. How 
the boy’s fingers itched to press the trigger 
and claim his first deer, even if it was a doe. 
But the ranchman would not allow it. Soon 
however, a fine buck came out of the chaparral 
and almost instantly he was downed with a fine, 
clean, long shot. When the rest of us returned 
unsuccessful in the evening, we found the deer 
already skinned out and a fine supper of venison 
steaks awaiting us. 
The next morning found us on the hunting 
grounds at daylight. Jose and I made a de¬ 
tour of three or four miles. We saw several 
peccary, but did not molest them, as we were 
after venison, and nothing else would satisfy 
us. Eventually I saw a fine buck and shot at 
him at a distance of about ninety rods. He had 
evidently winded us, for his head was up and 
he was ready for flight. I am sure I overshot 
him, as I saw him make one jump and vanish— 
his flag still up. We hunted faithfully till 10 
o’clock, seeing no more deer. When within one 
mile of the wagon I saw a buck and a doe. The 
buck was facing me, standing behind a crooked 
tree which protected all except his head and 
lower throat. Resolving to make a center shot, 
I stooped down to avoid the intervening brush, 
took a quick sigjit and fired. At the crack of 
my rifle the buck plunged headlong into a shal¬ 
low ditch. Rushing up, we found him strug¬ 
gling to regain his feet. I was about to shoot 
him again, when Jose said, “Not shoot; not 
shoot!” Jose grabbed the buck by the hind legs. 
I expected to see that Mexican ripped by the 
sharp hoofs, but he soon had the buck power¬ 
less. I advanced from behind, caught him by 
the horns and was about to stick him, when I 
found my bullet had already done the work; in 
other words, I had shot him exactly in the stick¬ 
ing place, and he was bleeding freely. We 
dressed him at once and I remained on guard, 
while Jose went for a horse. On his arrival 
with the horse I proceeded to lift the deer on 
to the saddle. Jose said, “No lift. Me fix him 
alright!” Dismounting, he took a hitch about 
*the deer’s horns with his rope, dragged the 
buck to a nearby tree, and I was spectator to 
the prettiest exhibition of horse and rope work 
I ever expect to see. Jose rode a half wild 
mustang—one he captured from a wild herd 
and broke himself. The pony was so wild that 
nobody but Jose could ride him, nevertheless 
he had him under perfect control. Arriving at 
the tree, he threw a loop of his rope over a 
limb, and taking a hitch about the saddle pom¬ 
mel, he drew the deer up to the proper height. 
Then he circled the tree and rode up beside 
the hanging deer. Holding the deer and shak- 
mg his rope, he laid the deer over the saddle in 
front of him as easily as one could lay a child 
in a cradle. Those Mexicans are certainly past- 
masters with a rope, as I saw subsequently. 
We packed the deer to the wagon and found 
we were the lucky ones for the morning—the 
other members of the party having killed none. 
After dinner I resolved to go alone. The 
ranchman gave me a pair of deer horns to carry, 
and told me if I could find a likely place where 
deer were using, to secrete myself and pound the 
horns together and rattle them in a manner 
simulating a buck fight. I stole quietly up the 
arroya for perhaps a mile, and finding a likely 
place, I had rattled the horns for four or five 
minutes, when out ran a big buck. His hair 
was all standing the wrong way, and he looked 
vicious. I knocked him down, but before I 
could stick him another buck ran out and I 
let him have a shoulder shot which floored him. 
Then two more bucks appeared on the scene. 
I could have killed them, but I had shot my 
legal number. I took off my hunting coat and 
shirt and laid them on the deer before I went 
for a horse. 1 his is a precaution one must take 
to keep off the coyotes. A coyote will not 
touch a deer if some wearing apparel is near, 
but if not so protected, they will find them and 
eat them inside of an hour. How the boys’ 
eyes did bulge as we packed the two big bucks 
to the wagon! 
Having killed my legal limit, I was delegated 
to guide the boy the next day. We had not 
gone ninety rods, when I pointed out a fine 
buck standing. He missed his first shot, but 
got him on the jump with his second shot. It 
was a fine buck. A little further up the arroya 
I saw, under the trees, what I thought was a 
leg moving. We squatted and saw a big buck 
emerge from a thicket about thirty rods away. 
Allen planted a bullet just over his heart. This 
made his legal limit, so we quit. Pretty good 
hunting for a seventeen-year-old boy on his first 
deer hunt. 
On arriving at the wagon we found Jim and 
the General, each with a fine buck. We decided 
we had all the venison we could use, so we quit 
after a hunt of two and a half days, having 
killed nine nice bucks. I was a little dis¬ 
appointed to have the hunt terminate so soon, 
as I wanted a week or ten days’ vacation; so, 
next morning, as we left for the train, I 
promised the ranchman I would return after a 
day or so and help him get up his winter’s pork. 
The boys left for home and I went over into 
Mexico, spent a couple of days at the historic 
town of Monterey, went over the. old battle¬ 
field and saw a bull fight on Christmas evening. 
Then I returned to the ranch. Having plenty 
of venison on hand, I hunted and trapped a 
little for coyotes. I had only one trap, but 
caught a big coyote the first night. Next day 
one of the hounds got his foot caught in the trap, 
so I gave up the trapping. I shot several coyotes. 
One day we arranged to hunt wild hogs. 
These hogs are not the peccary, but the original 
razor-backs, and they are wild and roam at will. 
If they are fat, they make good bacon. Next 
morning found the ranchman, Jose and I 
mounted for a hog hunt. The hogs are hunted 
with hounds, and it is exciting to follow them. 
It is as much like a fox hunt as anything I can 
imagine. We rode slowly through chaparral, 
prickly pear and mesquite till the baying of the 
hounds told us they had a fresh trail, then it 
was go. Elounds baying, cowboys yelling, 
horses on the jump—over pears, under trees, 
etc., etc., till the hog was brought to bay. Then 
he was roped. I do not see how the cowboys 
ever got a rope over the hog in the thick brush; 
but by the time I arrived he was always roped. 
If the hog was fat, it was killed at once and 
taken home. If lean and a boar, he was 
castrated, his tusks knocked out, his ear split 
and let loose to make pork another season. 
These hogs are vicious. When the rope was 
loosed they would attack man or horse, which¬ 
ever they saw first. Jose would grab them by 
a hind leg and hold them with his knee on their 
body. When everything was ready he would 
grab them by the tail and point them away from 
his horse. When the hog charged some one. 
Jose would jump to his saddle and we were 
away. It was extremely exciting. 
In this way I spent five days, then I went over 
to the Gulf country to shoot ducks and geese. 
The feathered game is there by millions; in 
fact, men are hired to keep the ducks off the 
rice fields. E. A. Sickels. 
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