April 18, 1908.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Another Mysterious Disappearance. 
Orange, N. J., April 4.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: The letter from E. W. C., Okmulgee, 
Okla.. recounting a mysterious disappearance, 
reminds me of an experience of my own. 
It was the winter of 1879 that a friend and 
myself with two negro servants were camped 
in the forest down in Colleton county, South 
Carolina, on a deer hunt. We had been in the 
woods three days and hung up one deer, a small 
buck which did not afford much of a fresh meat 
ration for two robust white men and two more 
robust darkies. Out-door men eat hearty. 
The morning of our fifth day in camp, I 
started to hunt southwest from our camp. I 
found no sign of deer until about two o'clock, 
when I made out the track of a buck going 
slowly, stopping occasionally to nip a bud or 
branch; everything indicating that he might be 
down at any time. I therefore had to use great 
care, to travel slowly and to be prepared for a 
jump. It was three o’clock when I stepped 
across a small stream, in the sand and mud of 
which I found tracks, and so very recently had 
the deer crossed, that I scanned surroundings 
closely, advanced slowly and with extra caution. 
From near the bed of the brook rose a wooded 
ridge over which the tracks led. I crept al¬ 
most to the top. and lying down flat, pulled my¬ 
self up until I had a view of the ground beyond 
for four hundred yards or more. As far as the 
eye could reach, the ground bristled with fallen 
trees, up-turned roots and wind-falls. All the 
signs pointed to the buck being near, and I felt 
sure he was somewhere in front of me, well 
hidden in some tangle of root or branch. I 
lay there and watched for a movement, know¬ 
ing that as the shadows lengthened, the shafts 
of light would bring into view objects that were 
hidden a few minutes before, and that this would 
assist me in a pretty thorough search of the 
ground. About sixty yards from the base of the 
ridge, amid a mass of brush and small second- 
growth, lay a very large tree that in some 
furious storm had been bent and torn up by the 
roots. Its dead branches were to my right. I 
was looking at the point where the branches 
sprung from the trunk, and suddenly saw some¬ 
thing glint in a bar of sunlight that fell broadly 
on the spot. In a half minute more, I made 
out the head and shoulders of the buck. 1 he 
“glinting” had been caused by his turning his 
head in the sunlight, and I saw it repeated. 
As he stood, it was rather a difficult shot to 
hit him behind the shoulder. Slowly, slowly, 
inch by inch, I pushed the old Sharps .40-70 be¬ 
fore me and waited for the buck to raise his head. 
Instead of doing this, he walked a few steps 
into plainer view and nearer the base of the 
fallen tree. I had now to aim between two small 
trees and over a wind-fall of brush to find lv.s 
shoulder. 
I drew fine and pressed the trigger, and 
through the smoke saw the buck go in the air. 
and then heard “bump, bump.’ a slight sound 
as of a fall, and all was quiet. Reloading, I 
stepped around the branch end of the tree, and 
down along the trunk, expecting to find the 
dead deer lying there. I hunted the spot over, 
and again, but failed to locate the buck. 1 here 
were signs of a wounded animal, blood on the 
leaves, the marks of his hoofs as he made the 
two or three jumps when hit, but no sign be¬ 
yond the marks of the hoof prints where the 
last jump was made. Again and again I went 
over the ground, and even scanned the branches 
overhead, thinking perhaps to find the buck 
hanging there by the horns, having once read 
of such an occurrence. 
I sat down and thought it over, and as the 
minutes passed. I almost began to believe 1 
had not shot at a deer, but the empty shell in 
my pocket disproved that. Puzzled and al 
most discouraged, I vainly sought a solution of 
the strange affair, but it all terminated in the 
last jump of the buck and no further mark or 
sign. The silence of the forest, the soughing 
and whispering pine boughs, the utter disappear¬ 
ance of the deer apparently from the face of 
the earth, began to work on my imagination; 
and in the lengthening and deepening shadows 
of the short winter days, the place grew eerie 
and ghostly. 
I must have been very quiet sitting there gaz¬ 
ing away off through the trees, for at a turn in 
A FIVE MONTHS’ OLD RETRIEVER. 
The bird was a young pigeon. After being photographed, 
the pup brought the bird to his owner, J. M. Black. 
an open place where a broad band of sunlight 
was flung between the trees, possibly two hun¬ 
dred yards away, I made out a flock of wild 
turkeys, nine of them. With extreme caution 
I worked myself off the log and behind it, and 
with the same care secured the rifle. 1 he 
eang of turkeys slowly approached, pecking heri 
and there, stopping, listening, cautious, suspi¬ 
cious. Sometimes hidden by wind-falls and brush 
heaps, they caused me agonizing doubts as to 
whether they would reappear. They were evi¬ 
dently making for the brook to drink, and then 
would look for a place to roost. If they did 
this, it would bring them near my position. 
Minute after minute passed, the gang turned t>> 
the left, drawing nearer, until probably fifty 
yards or so from me, here they halted and 
bunched pretty close. 
Drawing fine and well down on the side of 
a gobbler. I killed him. The remainder of the 
flock took wing, but instantly one of them left 
the line of flight and flew toward me. He came 
on laboring wing, and fell amid the up-turned 
615 
roots of the large fallen tree, fluttering down 
and finally resting in the hole or depression 
where the tree once stood. 
As I lifted the bird out of the hole. I noticed 
near its edge a rock well imbedded and moss- 
covered, except at one broad place where it 
had very recently been disturbed. Neither the 
fall of the turkey nor I was responsible for 
this. While bending over examining the moss 
and the disturbed soil at the point where the 
rock was at the edge of the. hole, I saw to my 
surprise and further mystification the hoof of 
a deer protruding from among the leaves and 
brush that filled the hole. A quick examination 
and 1 hauled my deer out of the depression, a 
small buck of eighty pounds or so. He must 
have flung himself almost at right angles on 
his third jump and landed head first in that 
deep depression all doubled up. In my search 
for sign. I had passed the depression two or 
three times, but as the buck was pretty well 
covered with leaves and brush, he bad escaped 
my notice. 
If the turkeys had not so opportunely arrived, 
and if one of them had not just as opportunely 
fallen dead in that depression, the mystery oi 
the deer that gave two or three jumps and ap¬ 
parently disappeared from the earth would never 
have been solved. 
I camped there that night, and after a good 
supper of venison and hard tack with a cup of 
coffee, I lit my pipe, and in going over the 
events of the day, I realized once more that a 
sportsman has many remarkable and most in¬ 
teresting experiences. If all the sportsmen, 
young and old, would write one or two experi¬ 
ences and all appear in book form, it would 
make a mighty interesting book. 
Dick Swiveller. 
New England Spring Shooting. 
Boston, April it. —Editor Forest and Stieam. 
Many Boston sportsmen are discussing the pro¬ 
posed law to stop spring shooting along the 
Massachusetts coast. They seem to approach 
the subject in a fair spirit, most of them agree¬ 
ing that it would be beneficial to the birds. 
Quite all agree, however, that it would work in¬ 
justice to enforce such a law against the shooters 
of this State while at the same time geese, ducks 
and all the shore birds are being slaughtered by 
the thousands south of 11s. If a statute of such 
a character could be enforced uniformly by all 
the States along the entire coast line it would 
be wonderfully beneficial in results. Such an 
arrangement could probably never be consum¬ 
mated, and as it now looks Massachusetts sports¬ 
men will be obliged to go to other States to get 
the early shooting they now enjoy so much. 
Near Eastham, on the Cape, there is found 
during April some of the best wildfowl shoot¬ 
ing of the season. Dwight Blaney discovered 
this several years ago and has not failed to 
take advantage of it for a long time. On April 
4 his party of five left for two weeks of goose 
and brant shooting, and during that time will 
,-isit Billingsgate Island, located off the coast 
rear Wellflcet. This island, recently purchased 
w Dr. M. H. Richardson, is said to furnish ex- 
•ellent brant shooting. Chatham is of course 
-eceiving its usual full quota of shooters and 
nore are planning to leave during the coming 
,veek. ■ Hackle. 
