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Fur Skins Tanned | 
Efficient Tanning 
Saves you Money, 
Globe Jet. 
Established twenty years 
Henneth Smith, Pres. 
Ask yourself, ‘‘Is the firm reliable, and will 
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Our ever increasing list of old customers 
over a period of many years is our best 
proof of better work. 
Send four our free style 
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1924 STYLE 
BOOK 
GLOBE TANNING CoO., 
254 §.E. First St., DES MOINES, IA. 
W. W. WEAVER 
Custom Tanner 
READING MICHIGAN 
The largest head or hide or the smallest receives 


its welcome into our specially equipped plant. 
Thirty special workmen for each kind of a 
job, bringing it to a finished product. Send 
for circulars. 
Big or small game heads, Catalog No. 5. Deer 
skins tanned, vests, jumpers, gloves or shirts 
made, Catalog No. 18. Open-mouth rug work, 
large and small skins, resetting teeth, lining, 
Catalog No. 4. Tanning on beef and _ horse 
hides, Catalog No. 1. A different circular on 
ladies’ fine coat work, fine furs, chokers, on 
different kinds of furs. 
‘S 
\\ 
| Guncraft 
SS By 
WILLIAM A. 
BRU_TTE 


S 
S SSS“ SS S S 
The theoretical side of the subject has been 
covered with a scientific accuracy, and the 
practical side of wing-shooting, gun fitting, 
the master eye, defects in vision and other 
important questions have been treated in a 
way that will enable either the expert or the 
amateur to determine if he is shooting with 
a gun that fits him and how to decide upon 
one that does. The secrets of success in 
trap shooting as well as the peculiarities in 
flight of the quail, the jacksnipe, the wood- 
cock, the ruffed grouse and the duck family 
are illustrated by drawings and described in 
a way that will facilitate the amateur in 
mastering the art of wing shooting. 
A modern treatise on guns, gun fitting, 
ammunition, wing and trap shooting. 
215 pages Illustrated Paper, $1.00 
Cloth, $2.00 
FOREST & STREAM PUB. CO. 
221 West 57th St., New York, N. Y. 
In writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. 
where the front and hind foot had over- 
lapped, and being somewhat of a Che- 
chahco, I at first thought it all one 
track. This “track” must have mea- 
sured about eighteen inches, and I sure 
thought I was on the trail of some 
bear. “Old Baldy,” who lost a toe in a 
trap and hence is easily recognizable 
from his track, is notorious around 
Klukwan, the nearby native village, 
having permanently crippled one In- 
dian hunter. 
REALIZING that interest in big 
game hunting is largely responsible 
for the records in marksmanship with 
the rifle and automatic rifle held by the 
Infantry stationed here, the successive 
commanding officers of the post have 
been very liberal with leaves and fur- 
loughs for hunting purposes. No one 
who really wants to go is deprived of 
an opportunity of from a few days to 
a month’s hunting each year for big 
game, while the afternoons and even- 
ings (it doesn’t get dark until almost 
midnight in summer) suffice for fishing 
and small game hunting galore. 
Dwellers of the Open 
Country 
(Continued from page 724) 
looking carefully discovered them to 
be the white rumps of four antelope 
feeding away from me. Reining back 
and leaving the ponies behind the bluff 
I moved quickly along its opposite side 
up a draw or coulée running parallel 
to that in which the antelope were. 
The wind was in my favor and when 
well up this draw I knew that the game 
must be near me just over the bluff. 
So cocking my rifle I advanced towards 
the crest, ready. As I sighted the dip 
in the land beyond them, the antelope 
were less than 100 yards off. I threw 
up my rifle and just as the buck, a big 
fellow, raised his head, fired, aiming 
just back of his shoulder. Though he 
didn’t appear to falter, I saw almost 
instantly what appeared to be a large 
red splash on his white side. I fired 
immediately at a doe and she stumbled 
and went down as the buck and the 
two others went off down hill at top 
speed; but when reaching the edge of 
a small gully, about a quarter of a 
mile off, the buck seemed to stumble 
and then fell over on his side and lay 
quite still. Here was luck indeed and 
ithe day still young! Cutting the doe’s 


It will identify you. 
throat to let her bleed freely, I ran 
down to where the buck lay. He was 
quite dead and, as I discovered when 
cleaning him, shot right through the 
heart. Nevertheless he had run hard a 
good quarter of a mile before falling 
over dead. After cleaning the game, 
I went and got the ponies, loaded it 
on Teddy, then headed gradually west- 
ward intending to get back to the 
ranch if possible before dark. We 
rested and lunched at noon at a small 
creek of good water, from the grassy 
edges of which a dozen fat mallards 
jumped at our approach, and I re- 
solved, as soon as possible, to give this 
creek a hunt with the shotgun. 
Our noon-day halt over, we set out 
again keeping a due westerly course. 
Puffing contentedly on my pipe as the 
ponies ambled steadily along, I enjoyed 
to the fullest the satisfied feelings of 
a hunt successfully accomplished. The 
weather was glorious. The high, pure 
air, clear as a bell, and with the crisp 
tang of autumn in it, gave with every 
breath a feeling of life, energy and 
vigor. Overhead stretched a cloudless, 
turquoise sky reaching on all sides to 
a distant horizon of dipping and roll- 
ing prairie, while riding over the gentle 
rise and fall of springy turf one al- 
most had the feeling of being borne 
on the long billows of some smooth 
sea. 
The afternoon was well on when we 
rode down to the flat bottom land and 
through a grove of cottonwoods crossed 
the Chugwater, the largest stream 
hereabouts, and at this point about 
eight miles from the ranch. Riding 
up the gradual slope on the west side 
of the valley I spied, way off to the 
left and silhouetted against the sky 
line, two-buck antelope. Here was 
more game, so keeping quietly on until 
hidden from view, I again left the 
ponies and making a long detour to 
the west approached with the wind in 
my face and the nearly setting sun at 
my back. The bucks were feeding out 
on an almost flat piece of prairie, so 
taking off my hat and throwing myself 
flat I wormed my way gradually for- 
ward, taking advantage of every small- 
est irregularity in the ground. The 
dazzling rays of the setting sun shin- 
ing directly from me towards the game 
probably helped in my not being dis- 
covered. I had, however, arrived at 
a point from whence there was no more 
cover between us than on the surface 
of a billiard table, so taking a long 
breath and a careful aim at the larger 
buck well up on the back I steadily 
squeezed the trigger. Down he went 
as if hit with a poll ax. Not firing at 
the other, as we now had all we could 
carry, I walked quickly up to the fallen 
buck counting 220 paces on the way. 
He had been shot through the spine 
Page 758 
