In Wooden Nutmeg Land 
II.—October Shooting in Connecticut—A Memory 
of Good Men and Good Dogs 
By L. DAWSON 
W HEN Joe called us next morning it re¬ 
quired a tremendous effort of the will 
to get up. We should hardly have done 
so, but for the fact that we were well acquainted 
'with Joe’s ways, and we knew that there was no 
peace or quiet in store for us unless we promptly 
obeyed his call. It was scarcely yet plain day¬ 
light. The room we occupied was hot luxuriously 
furnished, but it had a most excellent bed, two 
wooden chairs, and a washstand. There was no 
carpet on the floor and nothing on the walls ex¬ 
cept a huge map of the Hawaiian Islands. \\ hen r 
ever I slept at’Harley's I knew that when my 
eyes opened in the morning they would rest on 
that ancient map with its pink islands outlined 
in black and showing one or two black splotches 
which were labeled volcanoes. With many grunts 
and groans we began to dress, but before long 
were thoroughly awake and ready for the day s 
work. Down in the kitchen breakfast was ready, 
and it rejoiced my heart to see the table spread 
with doughnuts, pie and huge green cucumber 
pickles. Besides this, potatoes, good bread and 
fried pork were the main eatables. I used to 
feel that the doughnuts, pickles and pies were 
made-to look-at, though I confess that on one 
or two occasions I fell before the pie and en¬ 
joyed it hugely. 
“Now, boys,” said Joe, as we were about to 
rise from the table, “I think if we take Harley’s 
wet pasture and work down that for a mile or 
two, we’ll get two or three woodcock and maybe 
a snipe or two, and we ought to find one or two 
partridges. 
“There w T as quite a little frost last night, and 
I believe the woodcock are moving along. Those 
that were here yesterday have very likely gone 
on a few miles and their places are taken by 
others.” 
When we went out to the barn to loosen the 
dogs, we found the puppy on his feet pulling 
against his collar anxious to be set free, but the 
older dogs seemed no more eager to get out of 
their beds than we had felt half an hour earlier. 
True would not look at us and the other dogs 
merely rapped the hay with their tails to indi¬ 
cate that their hearts were good toward us. 
When we had unsnapped the chains from their 
collars and turned to go out of the barn, they 
all rose from their nests and followed us very 
slowly, stretching and yawning and apparently 
quite willing to spend the rest of the day in 
sleep. When they got out of doors, however, 
and saw us pick up the guns, they brightened up 
a little and hopped around in mild excitement, 
but soon again fell in to heel as we walked down 
the gravelly road which crossed the wet meadow; 
Spreading out here we followed down the -pas¬ 
ture lot between high hills. I he ground was 
moist and springy and through the meadow 
flowed one of those tiny brown trout brooks that 
every New England boy has known so well. 
Such brooks do not look as if they could hold 
any fish longer than two or three inches, yet as 
we’ all know well, sometimes from deep little 
holes under the bank fish may be taken which 
will measure eight or ten inches, and what fish 
they are for the table! The best in the world, 
I think. 
I was meandering along, thinking not at all 
of shooting, but rather of the possibilities of 
this particular locality for a trout hatchery and 
ponds, when suddenly from under my feet up 
jumped a lusty snipe, and twisting along low 
over the grass, flew straight toward my bi other 
who was on my right. To shoot was impossible. 
I could only call “Mark,” and presently, as the 
bird rose to pass over and behind him, he pitched 
up his gun and the bird fell, to be retrieved pres¬ 
ently by old Rex. As we went on down the 
meadow, three or four more snipe rose, most of 
them rather wild, but one in twisting about and 
trying to go- back up the valley made the fatal 
mistake of passing too close to Joe and was 
promptly gathered in. 
Meanwhile we had all been engaged in beat¬ 
ing out little clumps of brush that were scattered 
along, sometimes in the level valley and some¬ 
times just at its edge, but though on one or two 
occasions the dogs had made game; they had 
always seemed uncertain and nothing had been 
started. Presently, however, the brook entered 
a little swamp which extended all the way across 
the valley. The pasture seemed to end here. 
Joe came down to the stream and declared that 
he and his dogs would go down through the 
middle of the swamp, while my brother should 
take one side and I the other, and keeping ahead 
of Joe, should try to cut off anything which he 
might start that tried to get to the hills on either 
side. 
The swamp where I entered was dry under 
foot, but .the undergrowth was.very thick, and, 
as many leaves were still clinging to trees and 
shrubs, I could not see far. Before entering the 
brush I had tied a little sleighbell to True's 
collar, and its tinkling to'.d me quite accurately 
where he was. I could hear him working ahead 
of me, though so far ahead that the sound of 
the bell was faint, when suddenly it stopped and 
I pushed on feeling sure either that he was on 
point or that he had come on the trail of a par¬ 
tridge and was waiting for me to overtake him. 
A few moments later I came to- a place where 
the brush was not so thick, and a little beyond 
could see the form of the dog pointing, and I 
felt quite' sure pointing a woodcock. I went 
slowly toward- him,' trying to look- for-open 
places through which I might shoot at the bird 
when it rose, and had -almost reached the dog 
when to mjr 1 right souhded“the roar- of-a par- 1 
tridge getting up, and the crack of Joe s gun. 
I watched the sky to see if anything should ap¬ 
pear," and in a'very few seconds a partridge 
showed among the branches of the trees flying 
across me and a little ahead. He was so high 
up that he gave me quite an open shot, and I 
was lucky enough to drop him. He fell onK 
a little way beyond the dog, and as he struck 
the ground a woodcock rose, twisting among the 
stems • and branches, and when he reached an 
open spot above' the brush, darting off ahead. 
I was obliged to shoot quickly to catch him be¬ 
fore he disappeared behind a tangle of branches 
and literally snapped at him, and rather to my . 
surprise he turned over and fell not very far 
from where the partridge had struck the ground. 
I felt rather like patting myself on the back for 
having had two such pieces of luck in less than 
a minute. 
“Here,” shouted Joe, “what are you doing 
over there? You can’t have fired twice at that 
old partridge?” 
“No,” I called back, “I got the partridge and 
the partridge started the woodcock. W hat did 
you do?” 
“Oh, I got one of the partridges that rose in 
front of me, but I could not twist round quick 
enough to get the other. Say,” he went on, 
“we’re getting all the shooting over here, aren t 
we?” 
Hardly had the words come to me when from 
beyond Joe a gun sounded, and then after a 
moment another barrel, and Joe called out, I 
take it all back.” 
Sending True forward, he presently came to 
a point, and I was not sure which one of the 
dead birds he was standing, though I thought 
it was the partridge. At the word he stepped 
forward and picked it up, brought it to me, and 
then turning trotted back, and going a little 
further brought the woodcock; then we went on. 
Somewhat later I heard Joe grumbling to him¬ 
self and then a tremendous crashing of dry 
