manss-mm us mm 
756 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. 6, 1909. 
Q 
sa 
The Championship of 
Philadelphia and District 
Was Won on October 23 by 
CHARLES E. MINK 
Who Broke 
97 out of 100 
Using 
SMOKELESS 
One More Proof of the Regu¬ 
larity and Reliability of this 
Popular Powder. 
FISHERMEN NEED DIXON'S GRAPHITE 
of ferrules, tangling of line 
and is good for reefer —Get 
free sample and booklet P-52. 
JOSEPH DIXON CRUCIBLE CO. 
JERSEY" < 
Sam LovePs Boy. 
By Rowland E. Robinson. Price, J1.26. 
Sam Lovel’s Boy is the fifth of the series of Danvi? 
books. No one has pictured the New Englander with 
so much insight as has Mr. Robinson. Sam Level and 
Huldah are two of the characters of the earlier books 
in the series, and the boy is young Sam, their sin, wh< 
grows up under the tuition of the coterie of friends that 
we know so well, becomes a man just at the time of the 
Civil War, and carries a musket in defense of what he 
believes to be the right. 
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO. 
Bolt 
[Piece 
1909 MQD||EL 
*ftoaGa* <yti 
Simplest lock on earth—no cocking levers, bars or pash rods— 
cocks direct from toe of hammer; coil main spring works direct 
on hammer—not around a corner—hammer falls 1-2 inch com¬ 
pared with 1 inch in other guns, making a very fast lock, that 
works like oil, with a quick, clean, sharp, snappy pull. 
Catalog FREE—18 grades, $17.75 net to $300 list. Remember we 
make dainty little 20-gauge guns. 
Ithaca. N. Y. 
ITHACA GUN CO., Dept. No. 25, 
feels any ill effects. He never takes cold, and 
he believes that for health and enjoyment he 
has found the ideal life. 
There are profits in trapping if Baker’s 
stories are to be believed, but he says it is all 
in knowing how. He has cleaned up as much 
as $3,000 in a single season. In trapping down 
the Missouri and its tributaries muskrats, mink 
and skunks have been the principal catches, 
with a good many raccoons, otters, martens and 
wolves. During" the trapping season in the 
Northwest, which extends from October to 
April, Baker works from fifty to seventy-five 
traps’ To go the rounds of these requires 
nearly half a day, sometimes more, and the rest 
of the day and sometimes part of the night are 
spent in skinning the catch and stretching the 
skins to dry. 
In these days when people spend their leisure 
complaining about the high cost of living 
Baker finds his monthly expenses running up to 
about $6 a month. A sack of flour, a slab of 
bacon, some coffee, potatoes and chewing to¬ 
bacco are about the only articles, he buys, with 
beans occasionally by way of variety. He finds 
game of course to help out his bill of fare, but 
he isn’t particularly fond of game, which isn’t 
strange, since he has had much of it. 
During the Civil War Baker was a soldier 
in an Ohio regiment, and for that service he is 
now drawing $12 a month, but he hasn’t used a 
cent of his pension money in eight years. He 
doesn’t care for fish, so the summer months 
see him just loafing, as he is now in his leisurely 
float down the Missouri River.—Sun. 
A WILD GOOSE CHASE. 
“Don’t forget the Mem-Saheb’s gun,” said 
my husband to the servants, who were pack¬ 
ing for our shooting trip on the Indus. I 
smiled in anticipation. The tender turtle dove 
had fallen to my prentice hand, to be followed 
by gradually increasing bags of partridges, sissi, 
pigeon and a mallard or two, but now, at last, 
I hoped to realize my ambition and shoot a 
goose. 
Bent on a scientific stalk, we landed from the 
house one morning, having espied a flock of 
geese browsing calmly some hundred yards 
inland. 
The river bank was most accommodating. 
One could walk, dry-footed, along a lower 
ledge, and by careful stooping here and there, 
never show one’s head above the bank proper. 
Also, at a point conveniently in a straight line 
with the geese, a regular hollow was scooped 
in the bank. It would be like shooting from 
a roomy armchair. 
“You creep warily along to that hollow and 
sit there until I put the birds up. They should 
fly directly over you. Keep as low as possible 
and don’t forget to fire well in front of your 
bird.” , . _ 
They did come straight toward me, and i 
remembered nearly all the instructions. It was 
a pity my hat was so large and white and that 
in the excitement I stood up at the critical 
moment. Perhaps that was why my husband 
got three, while my shots went harmlessly into 
the sky. 
We tried another stalk later. A bigger thing 
this, including a long crouching creep over the 
sand, while two or three boatmen and stray 
villagers made a wide detour to send the birds 
in our direction. 
Again my husband settled me comfortably m 
a snug hollow in the side of the little creek, while 
he walked forward, knee-deep in the river, to a 
small cleft in the bank. For ten breathless 
minutes we waited before the welcome “Clang 
Clang” fell on our ears and with, rustling 
pinions the geese came toward us, high over- 
head. We fired simultaneously and two birds 
fell. “I’ve hit one,” I cried joyously as my 
picked bird dropped. 
My husbarid was silent. Generosity prompted 
him to agree, but he is a truthful man. “I am 
sorry, but it was my bird.” 
“But I carefully picked that one and aimed 
straight at it.” 
“I am afraid that settles the question, my 
dear. I aimed a length and a half in front!” 
