Dec. 24, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
1015 
with no intention of decoying, in a most busi¬ 
ness-like manner. Finally the flight slackened 
and the sun indicated that it was nearing the 
noon hour, so I signaled Cap'n Sam to the bat¬ 
tery. 
For some time I had possessed a distressingly 
empty feeling. A> 4 o’clock breakfast, especially 
when one is on the bay, is only a dim memory 
when the hands of the watch near twelve, and 
the more 1 thought of just how good a cup of 
hot coffee and lour or five sandwiches would 
taste, the sooner I wanted to invade the cabin 
of the Fannie F. 
I had no need to give Cap’n Sam my reasons 
for calling him. '‘Thought it was ’bout time for 
you to go ’board,” he said. "This salt air’s 
greatest thing in the world to give a man an 
appetite, an’ there’s coffee bilin’ on the stove an’ 
bread an’ butter aif meat on the table, so all 
you'll have to do is wade in an' fill up.” 
"And how about your appetite, Cap’n?” I in¬ 
quired, as he shoved the dory alongside. 
"Oh, I had a snack awhile back,” he replied. 
"Leave it to me for lookin’ out for number one. 
1 ain't goin’ hungry long’s there’s somethin’ to 
eat 'round, an’ 1 thought I’d fill up an’ lay a 
while in the machine, while you're eatin’. That 
is, if you ain’t got any objection.” 
So we exchanged places and I shoved the 
dory back to the Fannie F., perfectly willing to 
take the chance of losing a shot or so for the 
certainty of a square meal. Never did 1 enjoy 
anything more than I did the rough fare that 
I found prepared for me in the cabin, and al¬ 
though I twice heard the report of the captain’s 
gun, I was too occupied to even glance out the 
hatchway. It makes a vast difference who is 
doing the shooting when one is about half fam¬ 
ished. I suppose if the flight had not practi¬ 
cally ceased, and I had been shooting as rapidly 
as in the early part of the morning, the idea 
of food would never have entered my head, 
but now, well, I would rather take the chance 
of having to row half a mile to leeward and 
back after whatever birds Cap’n Sam might kill 
than to leave the cabin until I had thoroughly 
satisfied that salt air appetite. 
Even winter has its pleasant days, and al¬ 
though there was a good breeze blowing, it was 
comfortable in the cockpit, where I sat with the 
sun shining on me, enjoying an after dinner 
smoke and quite at peace with the world. I 
could not recollect when I had more enjoyed 
a day’s outing. Fair shooting, comfortable quar¬ 
ters, and plenty of good food. What more 
could one ask for? 
Half dozing and unquestionably lazy, I was 
content to idle away an hour while the captain 
attended to what birds came near the battery. 
Then, as I sat watching the smoke from my 
pipe curl up to where the breeze blowing over 
the cabin top caught and carried it way, or 
looking at the battery, with its attendant decoys 
bobbing gently and Cap’n Sam enjoying a smoke, 
I saw him suddenly disappear. The cause was 
distinctly apparent. On the same instant that 
the captain dropped out of view, I caught sight 
of a great flock of brant, possibly a quarter of 
a mile to leeward of the battery coming directly 
toward it and certain to decoy. 
Now, I thought, “I’ll see what the captain 
can do in the way of shooting. No doubt he’ll 
demonstrate his theory of letting 'em bunch up’ 
and possibly kill a number of them, and again 
he may not do any better than I when I en¬ 
deavored to put his advice into action.” 
I dove below for the glasses, for I did not 
wish to miss this opportunity of watching the 
captain, and truth to tell was a little inclined to 
hope that he would not make a particularly note¬ 
worthy killing. I had not forgotten that sar¬ 
castic waving of his. Old bay gunner that he 
was, I had serious doubts in regard to that 
theory of his and did not intend to let his move¬ 
ments go unobserved. There might be some¬ 
thing in it, and if so, I was going to behold it 
carried into effect. 
Now the birds were close to the decoys and 
some were already setting their wfings to alight, 
but not a move did the captain make. What 
was he going to do; shoot them sitting? I 
might have known better, but I was timing his 
actions by what mine would have been were I 
in his position. Long after both barrels of my 
gun would have been discharged, and when, as 
it seemed to me, the brant must have been with¬ 
in reaching distance of him, Cap’n Sam came to 
view. 
"Shoot, man! Shoot!” I excitedly exclaimed, 
forgetful of the distance between us as I watched 
the startled birds jump into the air. “What is 
the matter ? Birds all around and he sitting 
there with gun ready, but not pulling a trigger!” 
then I saw the wisdom in his tardiness. As 
the brant first arose they were in some cases 
several feet apart, but as they climbed higher 
they began to close their ranks, and then it was 
that I saw a puff of smoke, and the boom of 
the captain’s ten-gauge came rolling over the 
water, closely followed by the similar smoke 
cloud and report as he fired the second barrel. 
The air was full of falling brant. A great 
hole had been opened in their midst by the 
charges of heavy shot, and the number of dead 
and crippled birds that dropped among the de¬ 
coys fairly amazed me. Never again would 1 
question the captain’s instructions. I could de¬ 
mand no better evidence of his ability as a bat¬ 
tery gunner, but could I coolly wait as he had 
done with birds literally surrounding him, for 
the, moment to come when they would present 
the most favorable target? I doubted my 
patience to do so. It takes a seasoned veteran 
like the captain to hold his fire, shrewdly calcu¬ 
lating his chances, while birds are everywhere 
about him. The younger sportsman is too prone 
to shoot, and afterward figure on what he should 
have done, and now I saw that the latter was 
my method. As I remembered my attempt of 
the morning to make a killing from a flock 
larger than that which gave Cap’n Sam his 
opportunity, I could see that in my haste to 
shoot I had done so at the moment when the 
birds were most widely scattered. 
Cap’n Sam was standing up in the battery 
shooting over the crippled birds swimming 
among the decoys as I approached with the dory 
and waved to me to come alongside, but I had 
not the conscience to let him go after the two 
brant that he had shot while I was eating in 
the cabin, and which I had sighted with the 
glasses as they floated a good distance to lee¬ 
ward, so I pulled vigorously by, and in ten 
minutes picked them up. 
My return to the battery was more protracted, 
as I was busy retrieving the brant that had 
fallen victims to- the captain’s last shot and had 
a stiff pull after two wing-tipped birds that I 
bagged, and when the bow of the dory ground 
gently upon the battery platform, I had eighteen 
brant aboard, sixteen of which Cap’n Sam had 
accounted for at an expenditure of but two 
shells. 
“Too bad you wasn’t layin’ here when that big 
bunch come in,” the captain said. “Purtiest 
chance I’ve seen in a good while. Never had 
birds stool nicer an’ I dunno but what I might 
have done better.” 
“Done better!” I exclaimed. “Do you know 
how many birds you killed then? Sixteen! I 
call that doing pretty well.” 
"Sixteen, sho! You don’t say so! I calka- 
lated on ’bout ten or a dozen, maybe; but six¬ 
teen! Yes, that’s fair shootin’; fair.” 
The old fellow was mightily pleased, for all 
his grumbling I could see that with half an eye, 
and as we exchanged places I caught him glanc¬ 
ing at the pile of birds in the stern of the dory 
and chuckling. 
During the afternoon I had a number of shots, 
usually at single brant, although now and then 
a pair or three or four birds decoyed, but it 
appeared that the flight of the morning was not 
to be repeated. I saw none of the large flocks 
of two or three hundred, and while the oppor¬ 
tunities that I did have came frequently enough 
to prevent my growing tired of lying in the 
battery, yet I missed the feeling of excitement 
occasioned by the sight of a hundred or so of 
the large birds sweeping in toward the decoys. 
Several times little flocks of broadbills would 
come hovering over the decoys. From some¬ 
where aboard the Fannie F., Cap’n Sam had un¬ 
earthed a megaphone, and as a flock came in, I 
heard his voice rumbling across the water. 
“Give it to ’em, give it to ’em. Git a pair of 
’em broadbill an’ I’ll make you the finest pot- 
pie you ever et; potpie with dumplin’s in it.” 
A flock of broadbill decoyed, I got in both 
barrels and had the satisfaction of securing two 
pairs instead of the one asked for. That was 
my last shot. Frederick Arthur. 
Lost in the Mountains. 
It was on Nov. 19 that Bert E. Corbin left 
his companions in camp near Big Springs, Idaho, 
saying he hoped, by camping in the mountains 
alone, to get a shot at an elk early in the morn¬ 
ing. When he did not return a search was 
begun, but his companions failed to find him. 
Assistance was secured and several parties 
scoured the region, but it was not until Dec. 
11 that his body was found. Evidently he had 
lost his bearings and wandered until exhausted 
and benumbed by the cold. His age was forty- 
one years and he was vice-president of the Union 
Savings Building & Trust Company of Boise, 
Idaho. 
Another Deer Killed in Milford. 
Milford, Conn., Dec. 10. —Editor Forest ana 
Stream: Sunday morning, Dec. 3, a buck deer 
was found shot by a gun in the head and shoul¬ 
der on the land of Mr. Gunn. The antlers had 
been broken off and taken away. The young 
men setting traps on the property 'visited their 
traps Tuesday, and then again Sunday morning, 
when they found the deer near the traps. The 
animal had not been shot very long as the car¬ 
cass was not frozen. The game warden was 
notified. Reader. 
