John. 
Vre vve going to-morrow? John had asked 
> question so often and I had so often post- 
led keeping my promise to take him along 
t I was ashamed of myself, for often I went 
roting the next day alone or with somebody 
Jow, John was a good-hearted fellow, eager 
hunt with me because he had been told I 
1 the best dog in town. I was a little afraid 
John, because he had had little or no experi- 
e with a shotgun, and as I had once narrowly 
aped being killed by a gun in the hands of 
ither fellow, I had been made a little shaky 
reby. However, one day four years ago, I 
i John to be around early next morning for 
mnt on partridges. At first I spoke of them 
grouse, but as John did not know what kind 
)ird that was, I had to come down to par- 
Iges. 
ohn was punctually on hand, full of eager- 
s and expectations. On entering the covert, 
mg, narrow swale, I posted John on the right 
e of the swale and I myself took the left, 
dog quartering in the center. Soon the 
E:er commenced to road, slowly and carefully, 
il finally drew up to a point. John thinking 
it I did not see the dog, roared out, “The dog 
iStanding, the dog is standing,” and with a 
jhty roar the partridge flushed, going up the 
side out of range. “If you halloo again like 
It, John, I will let you hunt alone and I will 
i home,” said I. John promised to be good 
lit time and not to shout again. But at the 
[:t point the dog made, John gave me a sign 
fl began to run, as he later said, to be up 
j n with me, and fell crashing over an old 
. His gun struck the ground and went off, 
luckily not in my direction. 
Contrary to expectations no bird flushed this 
e. and my Setter was still standing. I left 
in to his own devices, flushed the bird and 
ed it, a beautiful cock bird as afterward 
ved. When John saw the bird drop he threw 
vn his gun, which he had picked up, and ran 
ih all his might in the direction where he last 
! the bird. On his rackety, packety run, he 
re uncomfortably close to another partridge; 
close that “she nearly knocked my hat off” 
i he explained later. John stood there open- 
ruthed, without a gun, and I could not shoot 
[ fear of hitting him. 
[What made you break into such a crazy 
ji?” I asked. 
' Oh, I was going to be sure to get that bird 
ti killed, for I heard him still fluttering.” 
; Now, John,” I said to him very solemnly, “if 
p break shot again and run in, our friend- 
lip will end.” 
.'he dog having dropped to shot was still wait- 
i to be sent. At the command. “Dead bird, 
^d,” he went on. and within a few minutes 
pie back with the bird unruffled and stone dead 
i his mouth. 
'he expression on John’s honest young face 
is worth going ten miles to see. Enthusiasm, 
admiration and wonderment came and went, 
while his eyes shone with a childish delight. 
“Well, Charles,” he said, “this is the first 
time I ever saw a dog go and get a partridge; 
the other fellows’ dogs don’t do it! You know 
Zeke’s dog? Well, last year he sent him in, or 
rather he went in without being told, but he 
never came back, and when Zeke found him 
the bird was bitten all to pieces and all these 
beautiful feathers were gone.” 
An hour or so later John jumped across a 
brook and almost on top of a close-lying par¬ 
tridge. The bird circled around and John cir¬ 
cled with it, trying to follow, with his cheek to 
his gun. Finally he let go and to the utter as¬ 
tonishment of both of us the bird dropped stone 
dead not thirty feet from him. Dropping the 
gun on the ground and running to the bird, he 
almost fell on top of it and picked it up, shout¬ 
ing, “I have killed her; I have killed her!” and 
dancing around like one possessed. It was his 
first partridge and his exuberance was excus¬ 
able, and if John reads these lines he need not 
be ashamed, for he is now- a full-fledged hunter, 
and it is a joy forever to be reminded of the 
killing of one’s first partridge to everyone. 
Charles F. Brockel. 
Deer in New England. 
Pasadena, Cal., Aug. io .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: In your issue of July 31 I note the 
article on this subject. When I think of the 
time and money that have been spent in trying 
to improve the fish and game conditions in Ver¬ 
mont, such letters make me “hot under the 
collar.” When I left that State two years ago, 
Franklin county was certainly the banner farm¬ 
ing county in the State, and the town of Shel¬ 
don was the best, or one of the best, farming 
towns in that county and our “Grand View 
Stock Farm” was one of the best kept as well 
as one of the largest farms in that town. There 
were quite as many deer in that county as in 
any other county in the State, and there were 
as many deer in Sheldon as in any other town 
in that county, and we had quite as many deer 
on our farm as on any other farm in the town, 
and I voice the sentiments of neighbors when 
I say that the deer gave us a hundred times more 
pleasure than they ever did us injury. Our only 
regret was that there were not more of them. 
I have personally investigated a number of 
claims made for damage done by deer, and in 
most cases I found that the complaints came 
either from some irresponsible party or from 
some poor fellow who was trying to eke out a 
living on some sterile rocky farm up among the 
mountains and who was not above trying to 
help out his scanty income by taking something 
from the State treasury, if it was possible to 
do so. In one instance complaint came from 
one of our best citizens who trusted to the word 
of a Frenchman in his employ, but when he 
personally investigated the case, he at once in¬ 
formed me that no damage had been done so 
far as he could discover. 
Regarding does hiding their young, they only 
do this where there are enemies in that imme¬ 
diate vicinity — bobcats, wolves, deer-running 
hounds, etc. 
If Vermont was as well stocked with other 
kinds of game, and her streams as well stocked 
with game fish as she is stocked with deer, she 
would then get a fair slice of the summer tour¬ 
ist business. The average summer boarder 
wants recreation as well as rest and is going 
where he can get it. Such people are willing 
to pay good money for their rest and pleasure. 
Stanstead. 
[Many wild American ungulates—as does the 
domestic cow—usually hide their young for some 
little time after birth. —Editor.] 
Writing of the game to be found in Hamp¬ 
den county, Massachusetts, a correspondent of 
the Springfield Republican says: 
Several California quail have been seen in 
this vicinity lately and this has given rise to 
more or less speculation as to where the birds 
came from. It is probable that the birds are 
the descendants of three pairs that were liber¬ 
ated four or five years ago by Frank Foote. 
Mr. Foote came from California with the birds 
and tried to dispose of them to the park com¬ 
mission for Forest Park. For some reason 
they were not placed there, and on the advice 
of Harry Hawes Mr. Foote liberated the birds 
in the brush east of the city. Nothing more 
was known of them until a few weeks ago, when 
one of the birds was discovered dead, appar¬ 
ently having been shot. One was heard in 
Mapledell street a short time ago and since then 
they have been seen several times in the vicinity 
of the South-end Bridge in Agawam and at 
Calla Shasta. It is also reported that they have 
been seen in the eastern part of the city. It is 
unusual for these quail to live through the 
severe winters of New England. In California 
they live in the warm valleys and do not go 
into the snow regions at all. For that reason 
it is considered all the more remarkable that 
they have survived several winters here. How¬ 
ever, all of our New England quail came from 
the South, and as they have been acclimated, it 
is assumed that the California variety have 
been also. 
It is reported from all sections of the State 
that quail and partridge are more plentiful than 
they have been for three or four seasons past. 
This is especially true of the eastern part, where 
the winters are less severe than they are here. 
It is said that on the Cape there are more of 
the birds than there have been for many years. 
During the winter months the quail and par¬ 
tridge live on the seeds of the plants that pro¬ 
trude through the snow. As long as the snow 
is not too deep for them to get the seeds, they 
will not die of starvation. It is only in the 
severest winters that the birds die in large num¬ 
bers from this cause, as there are usually se¬ 
cluded corners in the woods and fields where 
the weeds are not entirely buried underneath 
the snow. What kills many quail in the winter 
ti. Or t. tiOSAK.VSiiAJiPAiaN 
