stripped to the bone just while being 
handlined from a depth of less than 
twenty fathoms. 
The conger eel and the catfish or 
sea-wolf are two other undesirables 
often met with. As both of these fish 
have powerful jaws and sharp teeth 
the angler should use great care in un- 
hooking them. The common sculpin 
must also be handled gingerly on ac- 
count of the long spines on its head and 
back which it is able to raise and lower 
at will. The scarlet sculpin, which gets 
its name from its brilliant coloring, has 
no spines and is harmless; a curious 
fact about this fish is that its color 
comes off on the fingers of the person 
handling it. 
In conclusion a word might be said 
about the rock cod. Where no better 
game fish is to be had the angler may 
get considerable sport out of these 
fish by using a stiffish rod and doing 
his fishing in and around the kelp 
ledges. Rock cod take their color from 
the kelp in which they live, and as this 
is multicolored, so also are the cod. I 
have taken these fish when their 
ground color has been blue, green, 
bronze, yellow, scarlet or vivid crimson, 
according to the specimen. 
W. G. FREEDLY, JR. 
Germantown, Pa. 

Bat ie 
Large White Tail Buck 
DEAR FOREST AND STREAM: 
AST October I read of a very inter- 
esting deer hunt, written by Paul 
Brandreth for FOREST AND STREAM, 
and I admired the record White Tail 
Buck showed with the old guide Ruben 
Cary on page 549 in that issue. 
Enclosed I am sending you a photo 
of myself and a White Tail Buck that. 
I killed in the Adirondack Mountains 
the fall of 1922. I have hunted deer 

in this section for over 40 years, and 
these are the largest and _ heaviest 
antlers I have ever seen. A _ great 
many sportsmen and guides have seen 
this head and they all claim that it is 
the heaviest and most wonderful White 
Tail Buck head that they ever saw, 
with its 34%-inch spread, 21 points, 
and palmated in a wonderful way. 
This picture only shows part of the 
points on the head as one point hides 
another, but you can get some idea of 
the head. With all due respect to 
Mr. Paul Brandreth and his record 
White Tail Buck, I think that I also 
have a record Adirondack Deer Head. 
Capt. ELWIN S. LACKEY, 
Alexandria Bay, N. Y. 
Still-Hunting Squirrels 
DEAR FOREST AND STREAM: 
ASU Hunting” in the all too 
rapidly disappearing native for- 
ests of the mountainous knobs in 
Eastern Tennessee, to many, is the tip- 
top sport of sports—those who would 
class such above the level of “pastime.” 
The true “woodsman” will tell you 
every time, that the “time-honored” still 
hunt for Mr. Bushy Tail,—the most in- 
telligently cunning—perhaps—of all 
small game, is real high class sport; 
and that the best “still-hunters” must 
draw upon their reserve ingenuity to a 
degree, oftentimes bordering on the 
scientific, because the true sportsman 
goes after, and gets his game strictly 
within the classic laws of high class 
game hunters,—that is, never taking 
unfair advantage of his quarry. 
In volume, texture, and dimensions, 
the squirrel’s brain is almost twice as 
large as that of any other animal of 
his size,—as compared with his body 
weight etc., and perhaps the heaviest, 
as compared with the balance of his 
weight,—or in proportion, of any of the 
lower animals. This perhaps explains 
his ability, and the ease with which he 
so outclasses in cunning intelligence 
any and all of his compeers, of what- 
ever species. 
The “still hunt” is the true mode of 
capturing this fine little denizen of the 
woodlands and we will attempt to de- 
scribe the methods of our lamented 
grandsire, who was a veteran at the 
sport. 
Given a stretch of native woodland, 
on a still, cloudy, moist day, with a 
moderate temperature, at any season 
save that of brooding, we take our rifle, 
a .22 calibre, and, personally, the single 
shot is preferable to the magazine, 
which is almost sure to jam at the ex- 
treme moment. (It is positively unfair 
to hunt squirrels with a shotgun. A 
good single-shot rifle, well cared for, is 
the ideal weapon for this sport.) We 
enter the woods, walk very slowly, and 
with as little noise as possible, we pro- 
ceed for about five minutes, then turn 
to a screen of some kind, sit down, or 
stand, as you prefer, and watch closely 
in the timber through which we’ve 
passed, and if there be many, it will 
be but a few minutes until one or more 
exhibits himself. If everything re- 
mains still,—you hear no trash falling 
upon the leaves, then if you can mock 
his “bark’”—try out a few lusty croaks, 
and then watch a bit longer; if still 
nothing stirs, it’s safe to guess there 
are very few much-hunted “bushy- 
tails” within that “stretch.” Proceed 
again, further in the same way, going 
no further—as a rule—than that 
through which you have passed is well 
within your scope of vision. Hide 
again, and repeat the former per- 
formance, observing as closely as pos- 
sible, every movement, every noise. You 
are now apt to have one hop out in the 
open, either upon the body of a tree, or 
a limb, and open up his miniature 
“squawk”—and frisk about quite lively. 
Wait until he has played round a little, 
and then try to hit him squarely in the 
head, or just behind the foreleg,— 
either is a dead shot. If he falls, and 
begins to crawl about, hurry to him, 
and finish your job, or you will lose that 
one, nine times out of ten. He is 
usually stunned only, and soon re- 
covers. But in doing all this, make as 
little disturbance as possible,—the shot, 
unless they be much hunted, seems not 
to terrify them so much as the noise 
one makes in a careless tussle with a 
crippled squirrel. 
Proceed thus, making haste very 
slowly, stretch after stretch until your 
time is about half spent, that you in- 
tend to devote to this hunt,—then turn 
either to the right, or left, and proceed, 
at right angles to your origial course, 
for two or three stretches, then turn 
again, at right angles, and _ face 
towards “home,’—parallel your tracks, 
equi-distant, stretch at a time, until 
you reach the open whence you entered. 
I have shot as many as six after 
walking a single “stretch” without mov- 
ing from my position,—and on one 
“hunt” that I recall of five “stretches” 
(2 across, and 5 back—12 in all), killed 
eleven squirrels and two rabbits. Time, 
one even hour. My old grandfather 
was a stickler for “method” or “sys- 
tem” in everything,—hence, this was 
his method of “still-hunting’”—and I 
presume it was original with him. It 
may have no superiority over many — 
others, but I have never found a better 
one,—nor ever saw one with so little 
tiresome walking, nor that was more 
likely to “get the game.” 
LEwIs W. SPRADLING, A.B., M.D., 
Athens, Tenn. 
Page. 478 
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