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778 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[Nov. 13, 1909. 
from the stranger. The deer had evidently been 
fighting the dogs for fully one hour, for the 
ground and brush were all torn up here. Fol¬ 
lowing the trail the deer was found nearly dead. 
Someone had wounded it and the dogs had 
trailed the wounded deer to the end. It was 
shot through the hip, the ball passing forward. 
The animal weighed about ninety pounds and 
had the largest set of forked horns I have ever 
seen. 
A party consisting of George Williamson, Sr., 
and Jr, Hector and John Williamson went out 
Oct. 30 to finish up the deer season. Hector had 
the pleasure of emptying his .30-30 and knocked 
down a big three-pointer which afterward ran 
away. The track was followed by the blood 
and the deer was jumped again half a mile fur¬ 
ther on, but again got away, only to leave about 
twenty-five empty shells behind. The track was 
again followed fully three-quarters of a mile 
and toward the last he jumped into Webber 
Creek. The hunters followed on both sides of 
the creek and fresh sign was again struck where 
he went around a bluff. Hector and Geo. W, 
Jr., got up on a big bluff and were surprised to 
see the deer across the creek in high brush. 
Hector tried to shoot him in the head, but 
missed, and as the deer ran up the creek and 
both shot at his head, he fell dead, so he was 
floated down the creek. He had a large set of 
horns with three points on each side and 
weighed 145 pounds dressed. D. F. C. 
Unseasonable Days in Ihe South. 
New Orleans, La., Nov. 2. —Editor Forest 
and Stream: The continuation of warm weather 
in this section of Louisiana has militated largely 
against successful hunting of all kinds. The 
summer temperature of the past ten days or 
more has discouraged those fond of the gun 
and made it almost impossible to shoot ducks 
and quail, deer and almost all other kinds of 
birds and animals. While the blue-winged teal 
are quite plentiful in the marshes, they are 
quite shy. Besides, on account of the hot 
weather, they are not in the best of condition. 
The same may be said of the quail and the 
deer. Hunters are not inclined to exert them¬ 
selves while the sun pours its hot rays upon 
them almost equal to July. There is thus a 
comparative scarcity of game of all kinds in 
the public markets and on private tables. The 
season this fall is the latest for many years. 
The first real cool weather will witness scores 
of hunters going in quest of both small and big 
game. A cold snap is expected at almost any 
time now, although frost is hardly anticipated 
for some time yet. 
President Taft has accepted the offer of 
President Frank M. Miller of the Louisiana 
Game Commission to send him a number of 
diamond-back terrapin. Mr. Miller made this 
offer some time ago, and when President Taft 
was here attending the Waterways Convention, 
he signified his willingness to receive at the 
White House the terrapins as stated. The 
Louisiana diamond-back terrapin are said to be 
the finest in the world and are worth from 
$36 to $50 a dozen in the markets of the country. 
Mr. Miller will express to the President the 
finest specimens he can find, and he is sure 
the chief executive of the nation will be pleased 
with them and relish the dish. 
President Miller is perfecting arrangements 
for the raising of the diamond back and giving 
them the proper care and attention. A place 
will be provided on Queen Bess Island near 
the mouth of the Mississippi River in the Gulf 
of Mexico. The plan is quite elaborate and will 
involve considerable expense, but it is believed 
it will pay handsomely after the first year or 
two. This terrapin is almost extinct in Louisi¬ 
ana and Mississippi waters. 
Governor Sanders, of Louisiana, in his ad¬ 
dress before the Southern Conservation Con¬ 
gress, which convened here during the present 
week, spoke in part as follows in reference to 
the game and oysters and fish of this State: 
“In Louisiana we have a Forestry Bureau. It 
is not very well equipped with funds. We have 
also a Conservation Commission. It has been 
limited in its work, but has done well. It also 
has an Oyster Commission. Within the 
borders of this State are 600,000 acres of land 
capable of oyster cultivation, every acre of 
which in years to come will yield revenue not 
only to those who plant the oysters, but to the 
State. The State prohibits the sale of these 
oyster lands forever, and their rentals will yield 
a revenue to the State for all times. Louisi¬ 
ana has also a Game Commission. Louisiana 
is the greatest game preserve of the universe. 
Whether this Game Commission is a good thing 
must be threshed out at the busting; if it is 
good it must stay, and if bad, must be abolished. 
Louisiana has made some great steps in con¬ 
servation of its splendid resources. Louisiana 
is the second lumber producing State of the 
country, and at Bogalusa, a city of 10,000, where 
twenty-five years ago was a wilderness, is the 
largest sawmill in the world.” F- G. G. 
Destroyers of Wild Things. 
Minneapolis, Minn., Oct. 25 .—Editor Forest 
and Stream: On the 16th of October I took a 
trip up to Harris, Minn., having heard that 
there the ruffed grouse were still in existence. 
This country lies close to the St. Croix River, 
and is well covered with underbrush, as well as 
heavy timber; the ideal place for these birds. 
In all I saw five birds, and these were so shy 
that I could not get within 500 feet of them. I 
also saw two prairie chickens. 
I was surprised to see how scarce wild ani¬ 
mals are getting in this part of the State. 
Much has been said about the foxes as de¬ 
stroyers of young game birds, but the fox is 
not in it compared with the roving dogs kept 
by the settlers. One man up here keeps two 
wolfhounds that roam around the woods all 
times of the year, and I pity the young birds 
or eggs that they run across. Your editorials 
treating on the preservation of our useful wild 
animals are very good. This is a matter that 
should be taken up by every newspaper and 
magazine of the country. 
One very bad habit of most hunters is to 
destroy every wild mammal and bird that comes 
in their way. Some do it for the lust of killing, 
and others to see if they can hit it. Such 
conduct is worse than savage. Yet these very 
men will complain if they see a hawk take a 
bird to satisfy its hunger. 
J. W. Franzin. 
With the Squirrels. 
Binghamton, N. Y., Oct. 30 .—Editor Forest 
and Stream: Many of our local sportsmen have 
been out through the game covers of this 
county, since the opening of the season, and 
without an exception have reported a great 
scarcity of grouse. A number of my friends, 
among them some experienced and persistent 
hunters, have been out several times without 
bringing a bird to bag. 
I know where several broods of birds were 
hatched, and they were seen several times half 
matured, but since Oct. 1 not a feather can 
be raised. No satisfactory explanation for this 
condition has been made. 
One beautiful morning a few days after the 
opening of the season, my friend P. called me 
by phone and proposed a trip after squirrels. 
In a few minutes we were in his car and rolling 
swiftly toward a chestnut ridge, about ten 
miles out from the city limits, which he had 
lately discovered, but had never hunted. 
The day was perfect, the hills displayed the 
most beautiful tints, and we were hungry for 
the smell of the woods. Arriving at a farm¬ 
house near the woods in which we were to hunt, 
we left our car, took our guns and lunch and 
climbed the ridge. As it was then about eleven 
o’clock, we spread our cloth and ate our lunch. 
My friend had a thermos bottle filled with de¬ 
licious coffee, so hot when poured we could 
not drink it. The lunch soon disappeared, and 
we separated and entered the most beautiful 1 
piece of chestnut timber I ever saw, open and 
clear, with here and there a beech, maple or 
hemlock tree. We had scarcely got under cover 
of the branches before we heard a gray bark¬ 
ing ahead of P. Leaving him to follow up the 
clue, I pushed on a few rods. A shot soon 
announced that my friend had found game, and 
he called me to assist. Hurrying to him, I 
found he had wounded the squirrel which had 
hidden in a small hemlock. I walked to the 
other side of the tree and the squirrel promptly 1 
came around in sight of P., who quickly 
dropped him. Before he touched the ground, 
another one jumped from a nearby chestnut' 
into a maple directly over my head. I shot, 
missed, shot again more carefully, and put him 
in my bag. We found the squirrels had been: 
working hard among the burrs in every 
direction. 
I found a likely spot, lighted my pipe and 
leaned my back against a tree, and my mind 
filled with pleasant thoughts of many boyhood 
hunting trips. 
Well! Well! How could that squirrel reach 
that spot and I not see him? Not fifteen yards 
away, looking for a burr, tripping along with 
arched back and waving tail, I watched him for 
a few moments before I attempted to shoot, 
then quickly drawing a bead, I brought him to 
bag. The sound of my shot started another 
one at some distance, and he began to bark. 
I followed an old road as near to him as I 
could get, and then took to the brush, carefully 
avoiding every stick and branch, but could not 
get sight of him, although he continued to cry. 
Suddenly he descended a small beech, and firing 
too quickly, I missed and away he went out 
of sight in a second. 
The afternoon was soon spent—too soon. I 
bagged three more and hunted up my friend. 
