ADDON HALL 
ATLANTIC CITY 
On the Beach and the Boardwalk. In the very center 
of things. Hospitable, homelike. 
Every season of the year is enjoy- 
able at Chalfonte-Haddon Hall. 
Winter recreations outdoors in- 
clude Golf, Riding on the Beach, 
Aviation, Boardwalk Activities. 
Mild weather. Invigorating sea air. 
American Plan Only. Always Open. 
Illustrated folder and rates on request. 
LEEDS and LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
@f% 
lg eS 




Moose Hunting and 
Fishing in Quebec 
The A-Wa-Has-Ki Club Inc., Grand Anse, Quebec 
This Club has recently been formed and the 
Secretary instructed to accept applications 
for 18 more memberships which is limited 
to 30. The Club's territory comprises fifteen 
square miles and-is one of the best protected 
fish and game reserves in the Province of 
Quebec. This reserve was until recently 
leased to prominent New York people who 
erected comfortable camps. Situated on the 
St. Maurice River at Grand Anse, P” Q., 
easily reached by auto or railroad. Shares 
$150, annual fees $20. 
Apply Secretary-Treas. H. A. R. Lafleur 
Room 404-99 6t. James St., Montreal, Canada 
FOR RENT Kingsley Lake, Florida. 
Electric lights and run- 
ning water, no heat. Accommodations for 
seven in each cottage. Bathing, fishing and 
boating at your door; hunting nearby. 
Rental $25.00 per week; one dollar rebate 
for each mosquito found on the premises. 
Location six miles east of Starke. For 
reservations address 
LAKE JOHNSON DEVELOPMENT CO. 
Box 321, Jacksonville, Fla. 
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. 










Two furnished camps on 











In writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Strean. 
limb,” ‘and Charlie pointed to it. “You 
didn’t see him; of course he was 
shielded by a cluster of leaves that hung 
down and hid him. But when you 
circled the tree he turned his head to 
follow your movements. I saw the 
leaves move. That did it.” 
The gray measured nearly a foot, a 
remarkably growth for a squirrel, but 
we knew the reason. He was unsexed 
of course and everything in him had 
gone to growth of body. He certainly 
was a corpulent beauty and no mistake. 
The sun was now moving up higher 
and the squirrels were making them- 
selves known everywhere. Remarkably 
soul-satisfying hours they were and to 
swing along some by-path and always 
come upon some new scene and tree 
another gray was a joy that autumn 
inevitably brings to the hunter. At 
noon we took the precaution of clean- 
ing the guns and comparing our kills. 
Charlie was of course ahead, but it was 
only by three squirrels. Then came 
lunch and another start in the long 
swing back north to the farm-house. 
THE bird life is now numerous on 
all sides. 
by, startled from their drilling in the 
ant hills. Robins, not yet flown far 
south, dart up in twos and threes. The 
chicadees and nut-hatches, after a sum- 
mer hid away in the undergrowth, are 
now busy on the dead trees, routing out 
the hidden insects. All these sights and 
sounds are a pleasure to the autumn 
hunter, while over all is drawn that 
haze of Indian summer which is so in- 
explicably satisfying and _ inspiring; 
this with the pleasant warmth in the 
air makes it:seem more like a dreamy 
day in June than one in late November 
or December. So enough of the burly 
fellows have been tucked away in the 
hunting coat and there is quite a bulge 
to it as I move along that is plainly 
noticeable. There is also that joy of 
having made a clean bag of them and 
the knowledge that no cripples have got- 
ten away. Only too often do hunters 
shoot for the body of the. squirrel, let- 
ting them make their escape, a sure 
sign of poor shooting and a very poor 
show of sportsmanship. 
That night we were pleasantly oc- 
cupied in picking the bones and turning 
the “drum-sticks” around and_ the 
aftermath of a squirrel hunt was fully 
enjoyed. To those who have never sat 
down to a repast of fried squirrel, by 
one who knows how to prepare them, 
tender and juicy, I recommend the 
change. No partridge could taste bet- 
ter and one will search his mind for the 
proper comparison. 
And then he will come upon it. 
It will be none other than a squirrel 
pot-pie! 
Yellow hammers flash. 
It will identify you. 
A Duck Hunt in the Bahama 
Islands 
(Continued from page 661) 
which abound in those seas. Although 
we were a good half mile from the 
nearest land at practically all times, 
the water was so shallow that the boat 
began to hit bottom in places. Soon the 
keel began to drag so hard that it was 
necessary for Pommie and George to 
get out and pull and push. However, 
we soon passed into deeper water again 
and had no further trouble until within 
about a half a mile of John’s Cay. 
The water among these islands is 
wonderfully clear at all times, as it is 
practically all through the Bahamas. 
It is possible, with the aid of a water 
glass, or without one for that matter 
on a clear day, to see the bottom 
clearly at great depths. It is a beauti- 
ful sight to glide over the clear water, 
sponges and other sea growths, and 
vari-colored fish being as clearly visible 
as if they were only two feet under the 
surface, instead of twenty or thirty 
feet as is sometimes the case. 
But, as I have said, when within 
about a half mile of our landing place 
we again struck bottom, and it was 
then necessary for us all to get out and 
wade ashore in order to lighten the 
boat so that it could be beached. While 
the others unloaded the boat, Doc and 
I went around the head of the island 
to try our luck at some pelicans we had 
seen take to the water as we ap- 
proached. However, they were too far 
out for us to get a chance at them, so 
we returned. 
By this time the boat was unloaded 
and pulled ashore, and we all started 
inland where Pommie and George said 
the ducks were. At first it was fairly 
good going. “The land was marshy, with 
a growth of short wiry grass. How- 
ever, after we had proceeded about two 
hundred yards the trouble began. The 
mangroves grew thicker and thicker 
and it was soon a man-sized job to make 
headway at all. To those who are not 
familiar with them, I will say that a 
mangrove swamp is about the most 
difficult place to get through that you 
can imagine. They grow up to a height 
of from six inches to two or three feet 
and then grow back down into the 
ground, resembling for all the world a 
large croquet wicket. Imagine these 
growing as thick as it is possible for 
them to grow, intertwining each other, 
and you have a mangrove swamp. 
We managed after a time to get to 
the first pond, but were not rewarded 
by the sight of a- single duck. Pommie 
said the next pond was about a quarter 
of a mile farther on. At this, Doc and 
Capt. Malone threw up the sponge. 
Doc, a young Englishman, said, “I 
wouldn’t go ten feet farther through 
this bloody swamp for all the ducks in 
Page 698 
