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about all pockets, except the sleeves! 



In waterproofed Filson Khaki, with slicker cloth 
sewed in between the khaki on top of shoulder, 
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Our Catalog M describes the full line of Filson 
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C. C. FILSON CO. 
1005-1007 First Ave., Seattle, Wash. 
“Filson Clothes for the Man Who Knows’, 









Personal Stationery 
200 SHEETS and ay fd 
100 ENVELOPES 
Printed With Your Name and 
Address 








Clear, white bond paper, with en- 
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address printed in beautiful, rich 
blue ink, on both paper and en- 
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Write name and address plainly. 










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ELITE STATIONERY CO., 
5034 Main Street, Smethport, Pa. 








American Duck Shooting 
By GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL 
No single gunner, how- 
ever wide his experience, 
has himself covered the 
whole broad field of duck 
shooting, and none knows 
so much about the sport 
that there is nothing left 
for him to learn. Each 
one may acquire a vast 
amount of novel informa- 
tion by reading this com- 
plete and most interest- 

ing book. It describes, 
with a portrait, every 
species of duck, goose 
and swan known to North 
America; tells of the various methods to cap- 
ture each, the guns, ammunition, loads, decoys 
and boats used in the sport, and gives the best 
account ever published of the retrieving Chesa- 
peake Bay dog. 
Cloth, $5.00 
627 pages. Illustrated. 
In writina to 
fresher, ran ahead a few steps. By 
now he was on the edge of the woods 
and the doe’s trail led him into them. 
This was our chance and while he was 
hidden from sight Curt exerted all his 
strength and drove the boat forwards 
at a wonderful speed, considering the 
wind and the necessity of making no 
noise. 
The buck was in the woods nearly 
three minutes and we had gained con- 
siderably on him when he again ap- 
peared on the marsh. Also the buck- 
fever had made headway and I was 
shaking as if I had a chill. 
came out on the marsh again the grass 
was taller and all I could see was his 
white tail and his beautiful head. He 
stopped and looked right at us, evi- 
dently surprised and a little frightened 
that we were so much nearer than be- 
fore. He put down his head and 
brought it up quickly, even before Curt 
had time to dip his paddle. Luckily 
for us, Curt was paddling on the op- 
posite side of the boat, or the buck 
would have noticed the slight motion 
as Curt stopped the forward motion 
of the boat. Now it became a game of 
hide and seek. The buck was trying 
to catch us moving and we were trying 
to get nearer to him without his see- 
ing us make any motions. 
If it had not been for Curt’s won- 
derful ability in handling a paddle I 
would never have gotten near enough 
for a shot. It was evident that this 
state of affairs could not last long. We 
were about a hundred and twenty-five 
yards away. Curt pushed ahead twice 
more and then shook the boat twice. If 
he said anything I did not hear him, for 
I was too excited. The next time the 
buck put down his head I raised my 
gun and aiming into the grass where I 
thought his fore shoulder should be, I 
pulled the trigger. The stillness of the 
wilderness was split by a sharp re- 
port. Curt said something not intended 
for print. The buck raised his head 
and looked right at us. I had shot 
high, but the Red Gods that watch over 
all hunters took pity on my youth and 
gave one more chance. 
I ejected the old shell and pulled 
down into the grass lower than before, 
and holding as steady as I could, 
squeezed the trigger. The instant the 
gun cracked the deer hunched up, like 
a cat fighting a dog, and ran towards 
the woods. I unhitched one more shot 
after him, but he was out of sight in an 
instant. Curt shoved the boat up to the 
bank and listened. I thought I heard 
a rustle in the grass, and clearly I 
heard an animal drawing in its breath 
as if it were choking. Curt at once 
shoved the boat away from the bank 
and paddled rapidly into Mud Pond. I 
said nothing but thought a good deal, 
for I wanted to land and look for the 
buck right away. But Curt knew bet- 
Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. 
When he’™ 
It will identify you. 
ter. Experience is a good teacher. He 
was afraid the buck was shot through 
too far back, and would run to the 
shore of Mud Pond and take to the 
water. We came around the bend of the 
stream into Mud Pond, and there on 
the marsh was a small doe walking up 
the shore. She it undoubtedly was who 
had lured the old buck to his untimely 
end. 
We waited a few minutes and seeing 
nothing more we turned back and 
landed where we had last seen the big 
buck. Curt told me to have my gun 
ready, and pushing me ahead we went 
towards the woods. We had not far 
to go. Right at the edge of the woods 
we came to a place where the grass was 
all trodden down, and there lay the 
big buck. The horns were heavy and 
at the base were covered with small 
nubs. They had a spread of twenty- 
one inches. It was truly a trophy to 
be proud of, and I think I was the 
proudest boy in the country that night. 
We got back to camp long after dark 
and found a fine supper waiting for 
us. Father had been worrying because 
we were so late getting back to camp, 
but when he heard that I had gotten an 
exceptionally fine buck he was as 
pleased as I. I think the only thing he 
regretted was that he could not have 
been there to see me get it. 
Of all the happy years and many 
camping trips we had together, this 
one stands out foremost in my mind. 
A father, always appreciative and in- 
terested in his son’s undertakings, al- 
ways willing to help or offer a kindly 
suggestion; in those years a pal and a 
companion. I will always cherish the 
memory of these many hunting and 
camping trips with him. And now the 
years have rolled by and he has gone, 
but the memory lingers as though it 
was yesterday. Now I have some boys 
of my own, and I only hope I can be as 
good a father and pal to them as he 
was to me, and I hope it will not be 
long till we can go into the big woods 
together. 
Modern Trapping Trails 
(Continued from page 584) 
lot of rain and wet, slushy snow. This 
is an unhealthy life and often results 
in rheumatism. 
Spears has written some fine works 
in regard to trapping in Missouri-Mis- 
sissippi and other water systems, his 
Jim Smiley stories being especially in- 
structive along these lines. It would 
pay any prospective lake and stream 
trapper to read his dope. E. J. Dailey, 
of Adirondack Mountain fame, knows 
more of stream trapping than we ever 
hear from him. I understand that 
trappers use power boats to some extent 
Page 626 
