FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. io, 1908. 
574 
A Deer Hunt in Georgia. 
Alrany, Ga., Sept. 26. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: Arriving in Georgia in September, the 
month of all months that a Northern man is sup¬ 
posedly desirous of staying at home, my friends 
were at a loss to know why I came so soon, and 
why I did not wait “until quail were ripe,” as 
they expressed it. After explaining that I was 
in the South because I had been sent there by 
the firm I represented, and that I was glad to be 
with them once more, even if the weather was 
hot, we commenced to talk shoot. T hey sug¬ 
gested there were but two things we could do in 
the shooting line: one was to hunt black bears, 
and the other was to get up a deer hunt. 
They had the bear located, but as I had been 
on similar trips in hot weather, and had a keen 
recollection of the discomforts caused by the 
gnats and mosquitoes one September among the 
cane brakes and in the swamps, I declined that 
invitation with thanks. 
We then talked deer, with the result that a 
hunt was arranged to take place on the following 
day. 
That night I left Albany on the train for Pre¬ 
toria, a station on the Central Railroad of 
Georgia, arriving there after dark. My good 
friend G. B. D. McConnell was there to meet me, 
and it was not long before I was ensconsed in 
his palatial home. After supper we drove down 
to the store run by a lumber company for the 
benefit of its employes. It is located near the 
Cooleywahee Creek, on which the company’s saw 
mills are situated. The usual crowd of mill men 
was there. On hearing of our proposed deer 
hunt, each had some proposition to offer as to 
where we were to start in with the dogs. Several 
predictions were made as to whether we would 
get a deer or not; in fact, most of them believed 
we would not; all of which appeared rather dis¬ 
couraging to me. However, we were up and 
had breakfast at seven o’clock next morning, and 
went to the store, where we were to meet the 
rest of the party, with the man who owned the 
hounds. We did not have long to wait before 
our crowd was ready to start. 
The hounds were very impatient, and insisted 
on starting a noise right then. There were eight 
of them, all colors and sizes. Six were owned 
by my friend Bart. Morland, and were the pick 
of his pack of twelve or fifteen. The other two 
were used at the convict camp to catch any negro 
who took it into his head that he had been there 
long enough, and decided to skip. The two 
hounds had been bought recently, and the price 
paid was fifty dollars each. Much was expected 
of them from their owner, but some of those 
present were rather skeptical on this point. They 
had never been known to trail a deer. Still, it 
was generally admitted they looked good. The 
dogs that were supposed to cut out the work 
were a small black and tan hound, called Blue, 
and another called Buckskin. 
We did not have far to drive, probably two 
miles, when we reached the place where it had 
been decided to try to jump a deer. The party 
consisted of eleven white men and one negro, 
who was taken along on account of his knowl¬ 
edge of the runways, as he had lived in that sec¬ 
tion of the country for fifty years. He posted 
the men on their different stands. Of another 
negro I will have something to say later. 
I had been left alone on a stand not more than 
half an hour when I heard the hounds baying 
and making a great noise—a noise that must be 
heard to be appreciated. They seemed to be go¬ 
ing away from where I was, but finally turned, 
and apparently were headed straight for my 
stand. On they came. As they drew nearer I 
imagined I could hear a deer in the brush. It 
was do or die right there. I knew I would be 
everlastingly disgraced if that deer got by me, 
either through carelessness on my part or by 
shooting at and missing it, consequently I was 
keyed up to the top notch. But my preparation 
was of no use. Something turned it when about 
three hundred yards away. 
Away they went, and it appeared as if they 
were going in a straight line for what was 
known as the Lime Sink Swamp, where they 
separated, and one would think, from the fuss 
they made, there were deer and hounds mixed 
up all over the country. It seems, as we found 
out later, there were three of them, and the dogs 
had them separated. 
The dog called Blue had an old buck all to 
THE HUNTERS AND THEIR GAME. 
himself. Buckskin and the other five of Bart’s 
dogs were after an old doe. The two dogs from 
the convict camp had a large doe and stuck to 
her, following her over three miles. It happened 
that Bart, who was on horseback, was nearest to 
them when they turned, so he followed, trying to 
head them off. We sat around for about an hour, 
when one by one we made for the wagon road. 
Finally all were there but Bart. It was decided 
that the deer had gone so far that the dogs would 
not be able to bring them back, and as the dogs 
had apparently gone for the day it was decided 
that we would go back to the lumber camp 
We were about to start, some being already 
in the wagons, and all more or lesss blue, when 
down the road came good old Bart, with a big 
doe in front of him on the horse. At last we 
had a deer. It had been shot in front of the two 
fifty-dollar dogs, giving them a prestige that will 
last them as long as they live. Now we were 
fixed right and ready to start for the camp, and 
everybod}7 was smiling and happy. 
When we got in sight of the camp, everyone 
commenced to give a war whoop, expecting the 
whole store outfit would turn out to see the deer, 
but no one came, and to tell the truth I com¬ 
menced to feel slighted myself. Somehow there 
was no one around that seemed to care if we 
were there or not. We got out of the wagons 
and went in the store, where there are generally 
from ten to fifteen standing around. This time 
there was only one man in sight, and he was one 
of the clerks. 
“Have you seen the deer?” was the first ques¬ 
tion asked him. “What deer?” he replied. “Why, 
the deer we just brought in; a big doe; must 
weigh one hundred and fifty pounds.” 
After looking us over carefully, he remarked: 
“Is that all? That’s nothing. Just step out back 
of the store and see a real deer.” 
We all made a rush for the rear of the store, 
and there, lo and behold, was one of the largest 
bucks I ever saw, dead or alive, and about every¬ 
body in the neighborhood was looking at it. To 
be accurate, it weighed 225 pounds dressed, and 
had a set of horns with six prongs on each side. 
It was a real deer, sure enough, and this is how 
it happened to be there: When the dog Blue got 
his buck started, he never left him. In due time 
he had him turned and started for what is known 
as the Yankee Land, an almost impenetrable 
swamp. At least four miles from where the deer 
separated, the unexpected happened. The second 
negro of whom I made mention, was plowing in 
a field near this cabin when he heard the hound 
coming. Knowing the run where the deer al¬ 
ways go through on their way to Yankee Land, 
he ran in and got his four-dollar single barrel 
shotgun and a handful of buckshot shells, and 
hurried to the stand just as the big buck ap¬ 
peared, not more than thirty yards away. 
After resting a while and having some cracker 
and cheese sandwiches, we thought, as those two 
deer came so easy, that we had plenty of time to 
get more before night, so off we started again 
in another direction. The usual formalities of 
placing the men having been gone through with, 
the dog handlers went in the swamp to jump a 
deer. They were in but a short time when we| 
heard the dogs. This time, as before, we felt 
sure they had started a deer, and all waited pa¬ 
tiently, in hopes that it would come their way. 
All were doomed to disappointment, for the doe 
started off exactly opposite from the way she was 
expected to go, and would have escaped entirety 
if my frined McConnell had not known the coun¬ 
try so well. He knew just where she was head¬ 
ing for, and got there first. 
It turned out to be a yearling doe, in fine con-j 
dition. In drawing for shares I got a hind quar¬ 
ter, and it was mighty fine. I feel as if the story 
would not be complete if I did not describe the 
manner the spoils were divided. At the store, 
the company’s butcher volunteered to skin and cut 
up the three deer, and, as there were thirteen in 
the party, there were to be thirteen packages. The 
negro who killed the big buck got the skin, the 
head and the first pick. He naturally took a hind 
quarter of it. Bart. Morland, the gentleman that 
owned the dogs, took second pick. Then Mr 
McConnell, who killed the doe, took third pick.! 
After that I was appointed to hold the hat. Af¬ 
ter all the packages had been marked and cor¬ 
responding numbers put in the hat, each man had 
a draw. All were satisfied, as the meat was 
divided up very fairly. 
For the benefit of the readers who think the) 
negro should have been permitted to keep the 1 
whole of the big buck, I wish to say that it has 
been a custom, since the year one, that when 2 
man kills a deer that is being run by another’s 
dog, the owner of the dog has an equity in the: 
meat. Frank Lawrence. 
