When Good 
Sportsmen 
Get together, you'll 
always find enthusiastic 
BAKER GUN owners. 
Generation after generation 
for more than 50 years, have 
been shooting BAKER Guns 
—they have stood every test 
never shoot 
of strain and 
loose! 
Ask the nearest BAKER 
Agent—set the ‘‘feel’’ of 
a REAL BAKER, that fits 
your individual require- 
ments. 
Catalog FREE on Request 
BAKER GUN CO. 
253 Church St., New York, N. Y. 
FISHING TACKLE 
Deal Direct With the Manufacturers 
Security in buying tackle 
comes from the honor of 
the house that builds it. 
We serve a multitude of 
anglers who insist upon 
“value received’ for the 
money they spend and we 
have no comebacks. Our 
name on a rod or reel sym- 
bolizes the highest achieve- 
ment of this highly developed art. Since 
1867 we have made and sold Tackle. This 
is surely a recommendation in itself. 
Catalog of 160 Pages Sent on Request 
Edward vom Hofe & Company 
91 Fulton Street New York City 
Dry Fly Fishing Taught 
Accuracy and delicacy in fly cast- 
ing GUARANTEED. For terms apply 
to Mr. F. G. Shaw, The School for 
Salmon and Trout Fly Casting, 
PROSPECT PARK COURT 
147 Ocean Avenue 
Brooklyn, N. Y. 





“GETS-EM” 
Sey BAHERS WEEDLESS 30 + 
ASK IPLAIN.. 25 
YOUR DEALER—SEND FOR ele 
PRESCOTT SPINNER MFc. Co. 
BY CHas.H. StapF. PRESCOTT» WIS. 
Se ei run 34 Miles 
Gallon of Gasoline ) 
Low Gear Seldom Used 
With Air-Friction Carburetor 
#4 Guaranteed to reduce gasoline bills on any 
car from one-half to one-third and increase 
power of motorsfrom 30 to 50%. 
“Sent on 30 Day’s Trial 
Attach yourself. Startseasy incold weather. No 
Send make of car and 


am 
OVERALL 

y— 2 
PAT. OFF. 


Fits any car. 
ehifting of gears in slow moving traffic. 
take advantage a a Opa 30-day trial offer. AgentsWanted. 
A CTION CARBURETOR CO 
B43 Aap Bide. Dayton, Ohio 
in writing to 








THE PRESCOTT SPINNER 


imine than fire itself. 
currents, the wall of jungle created a 
smoke-proof tunnel, gratifying to lungs 
now sore from punishment. As long 
as we kept well in to the .bushes and 
myrtles, we were free from that black 
and choking deluge. And the smoke 
was doing strange things; once, a snarl 
of it was caught up and projected east- 
ward, on a peculiarly straight line, as 
if a railroad train had just passed at 
full speed across the sloughs, leaving 
its coal smudge against the sky. 
At no time could we have gone out 
upon the prairies, for the black muck 
was as treacherous as_ quick-sand! 
And, conscious of something gone 
amiss, some convulsion of the elements, 
every living thing shared our terror 
with us. 
If Tommy Tiger had seen the coiled 
death in the one clump of soggy saw- 
grass, he would have cried, with fear in 
his breastis. Ghit-ta-mic-co leone e@nit- 
ko-la-lago-chee!”—Chief of all the 
snakes ... rattle snake. Frantic 
flocks of gulls dived in and out of the 
|/smoke banks, as if lost; a dozen limkin 
roared past, seeking the same shelter 
in the angle of the jungle foliage, their 
wings all but touching us! Owls, and 
little and great white herons, the latter 
spotless against the contrasting smoke, 
i were to be seen, coasting on the wind, 
after dizzy flight of miles. What we 
once mistook for fire brands, caught 
up in the vortex of wind and ashes and 
smudge, proved to be a lone pair of 
red birds, their breasts brighter car- 
And there were 
blue herons—big fellows, going in 
headlong confusion into the higher bay 
trees, as if the smoke had blinded them! 
LONG before we had reached the ex- 
tremity of the hammock, at a point 
we intuitively recognized as somewhere 
jnear our original machete-hewn entry, 

Advertisers muention Forest and Stream. 
I was so winded that it was with the 
greatest difficulty I went another step. 
This was more strenuous exercise than 
it had been my custom to encounter, 
even on the most arduous hunting or 
duck-shooting trips. Sonnyboy was 
compelled to slow down in order to keep 
me company... he did more than 
that... he took my arm and helped 
me, and I did not discourage his bit of 
galantry. 
But while we were comparatively safe 
from the hammock fire proper, we could 
not ease up in our prairie flight to the 
canal. The saw-grass area might eas- 
ily take fire, and the going out here 
was every bit as dangerous, as slow, 
as much delayed by circuitous detours, 
as had been the darkened trail of the 
hammock. And we must ever keep a 
watchful eye one the muck and the 
sloughs. 
We made it—how and under what 
complete circumstance, I would be the 
last to remember. To Sonnyboy it was 
Tt will identify vou 
the one culminative adventure of our 
period of comradeship, and in the years 
to come, he will hold, sharply defined, 
every detail of that soggy, lumbering, 
sticky, foot-sore dash across the open 
’Glade areas, along the marl beaches 
of smaller hammocks, through restful 
myrtle clumps, and into the stifling 
open once more, always pursued by a 
storm of smoke and the menacing glow 
of a rim of fire! 
T no time did we see the sun; it 
was obliterated by the smudge pall. 
It was as if we were staggering on and 
on across a deserted planate, a dead 
world, finally consumed by its own in- 
ternal conflagration. I do not think 
it possible to properly describe the sen- 
sation which devoured us, as we ran, 
two tiny*specs of humanity, under the 
dull, depressing shadow of the shut-off 
sky, on that vast prairie wasteland. 
Our leggings, canvas and leather, were 
all but slashed from place; our hands 
were bleeding from the innumerable 
clean cuts of the saw-grass, and we 
were splotchy black muck, from our 
heels to our heads. 
And, finally, the skeleton form of the 
giant dipper-dredge, the squat dyna- 
mite sheds, the clumsy tractor, with a 
shack built on its broad shoulders, and 
the cool ribbon of Tamiami, its one ex- 
tremity lost in a severed hammock, its 
other disappearing to the horizon, Mi- 
amiward bound! 
“Black Bass Joe’ was the first to 
greet us, by one of those odd grotesque- 
ries of Chance. He was atop the trac- 
tor shack, mending the roof, when his 
restless eyes, watching the fire on the 
prairies, in any event, suddenly con- 
centrated on the two foot-heavy figures 
approaching. 
“My God!” we heard him cry, 
God!” 
They virtually stopped work at the 
dredge, in their desire to minister to 
our needs, for we were as near “all in” 
as any two adventurers would ever care 
to be. And the magnitude of the ex- 
perience was not decreased by the broad 
gauge view we could now obtain of the 
’Glade fire. For miles, in every direc- 
tion, the smoke hung in a sickening pall. 
The wind, veering, sped it southward 
and off the canal. Those rough and 
ready dredge workers assisted in the 
cleaning-up process, put salve on our 
cut fingers, and plied us with food and 
very black coffee. It was half-past 
three o’clock! 
“We saw it when it got its dern 
start,” commented “Black Bass Joe,” 
“Just a little spurt of smoke at first an’ 
then—swish! LEverythin’ went black. 
Happens every so often.” He edged 
over to me and looked me full in the 
eyes. “You fellers build a camp fire 
out there on th’ hammock?” he asked 
significantly. 
“my 
Page 170 
