Russells 
lke Walton’ 
HERE the pavement ends”’ 
is where Russell’s ‘Ike 
Waltons” begin. On mountain, 
field and forest trails they 
are padding along giving mile- 
age and comfort to men wise 
in choosing outing footwear. 
The Ike Walton is a boot with 
a double vamp—made of the 
finest waterproofed imported 
French veal leathers, tanned and 
oiled to a pliability that gives 
no hint of ruggedness. Gen- 
uine moccasin construction. 
The “never rip” seam, continuous on 
the vamp and toe piece, is sufficient as- 
surance against the hazards of the worst 
of bad going. Flexible soles of wear- 
beating Maple Pac leather give four lay- 
ers of leather between the foot and the 
ground. The lightest weight and strong- 
est boot ever trod on; as waterproofed 
as a leather boot can be. Heights 
6 to 18 inches, all sizes, army last. 
R. B. Slatter, Brea, California, 
wore this boot from Vancouver, 
B. C. to Atlin, a distance of 1800 
miles, in 153 consecutive days. 
Ask any dealer who sells (or ought to 
sell) sportsmen’s boots and shoes to 
show you Russell Moccasin Footwear. 
If he can not, write for our catalog, e 
select the style and size you want and 
insist that he order them for you. 
The W.C. RUSSELL MOCCASIN co. 
910 Wisconsin St., Testes Wis. } 2 

Poubie Action, Solid Frame, 
Swing Out Cylinder 
REVOLVER 
Absolute perfect safe- 
ty because the cylin- 
der and barrel have 
double locking devices. 
Easy to handle—sure fire— 
never misses. Best _ blue 
steel. None better made. 
$35.00 value. Special sacri- $35 
fice pices 
.29, or ..38 Cal uses otetes 25 value 
AY ON DELIVE 
z PLUS “DELIVERY SEND ‘NO MONEY 
Brand new, latest model. Use standard ammunition 
ATTS TRADING CO. 
{1 Warren St., Desk 559 New York 

———————————————— 
Six Color Combinations Fhe Game Fisher 
Greatest fish-taker ever 
made. Send for chart with 
$1.25 ent fish in actual colors. 
JAMES HEDDON’S SONS 
Each 910 West Street, Dowagiac, Mich. 
Heddon max 

eddon 





like manner if I would send a few of 
his birds to the fifty and seventy-five 
mile training stations, as he wanted to 
test out his birds before he joined some 
club and went to considerable expense. 
So on the fifty-mile training-shipping 
night he brought over ten pigeons, two 
of which were those that I gave him. 
On the following day, which was Sun- 
day (and a beautiful day it was), this 
young novice came running around the 
house, highly enthusiastic. It was now 
ten o’clock and he had all of his birds 
home, which were liberated at seven 
o’clock. 
He was all smiles as he compared 
his time with mine, and was a close sec- 
ond. On the seventy-five mile training 
he was back and forth all day because 
I was missing two and he had all of his 
birds home. As his first bird beat mine 
(by about two minutes) you could not 
hold this chap. He proudly protruded 
his chest and asked if I would make 
arrangements for him to join the club 
to which I belong, namely the Long 
Island Homing Club. The first race 
was the following Sunday, the 100 mile 
race, and he asked me if I would ship 
his birds. As it it against the rules 
to ship birds which belong outside the 
club, I was permitted to ship the two 
which I gave him, because they were 
branded with my brands. 
Sunday morning came, a_ sullen, 
dreary day, that rosy fingered Sunday 
morning which played such a prominent 
part in our 50 and 75 mile training sta- 
tions, was missing. Nothing but a low 
fog hung over the city. From 6 o’clock 
in the morning until 12 o’clock noon 
this young novice telephoned, sent mes- 
sengers around and finally came over 
himself inquiring as to whether any of 
my birds were home. (The birds were 
liberated at 7.30 on this day. The 
young lad, still in high hopes, sat a full 
hour waiting for some sign of the birds, 
when he suddenly spied a pigeon mak; 
ing for my loft. He was all excited as 
he watched me time the bird in, which 
consists of taking a rubber counter 
mark off their leg and putting it in the 
clock, starting the clock. 
I went to the club with my clock and 
the novice went home to see whether 
any of his birds were home. It was 
about 6 o’clock when I returned from 
the club and was sitting in the yard but 
a short time when a sullen, demure 
young chap walked into the yard, that 
familiar smile gone, and his spirit 
seemed to be broken. The pigeon which 
he cherished most came home, only to 
drop dead on top of his coop. He had 
brought the bird with him and we care- 
fully examined it, finding numerous gun 
shot wounds in its breast. I tried to 
explain to this young sportsman that 
such incidents are to be expected. Un- 
consciously he brushed aside a tear, 
and in a choking voice bid me good- 
night. Meeting the chap about 6 months 
later he infomed me that he gave up 
his birds. 
Perhaps if the person who shot that 
pigeon realized the injury that he had 
done, he would gladly give anything for 
the return of that young man’s sport- 
ing spirit. 
As it is very rare that a man can 
live with a broken neck, so it is with 
a sportsman; how can the racing and 
homing pigeon sport live with so many 
broken or irritated spirits of its mem- 
bers because of the shooting of their 
pigeons. 
We are trying to encourage the sport, 
and with the aid of the man who 
handles a gun we could accomplish won- 
ders. So may I ask you, true sports- 
men, please speak and tell your friends 
and brother sportsmen to refrain from 
carrying home our dearly paid for 
pigeons in place of the “Bacon.” 
Member of the Long Island Homing 
Club. 
JOHN J. MUNSTER, 
Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Michigan Muskies 
DEAR FOREST AND STREAM: 
AR LAKE in the northwest part of 
Manistee Co., Michigan, has long 
been famous for the big muskies. A 
natural breeding and feeding ground, 
the red man had his planting grounds 
on the shore of this lake and were ex- 
pert fishermen before the white man 
came. I have been in this region 57 
years and have had my share of fish- 
ing and hunting. The spring of 1899 
while spearing, I struck a muskie that 
would weigh well over 100 lbs., but lost 
him. The largest I ever helped get out 
was 42 lbs. An Indian  spearing 
through the ice in the early ’70s took 
cone out that weighed 72 lbs. 
A fine village of 600 souls and good 
farms surround Bar Lake now. But 
Page 608 
| 
