APRIL 14, 1906.] 

FOREST AND STREAM. 
541 

Jack and I were a pretty groggy pair as we 
drove into town next morning, and if either one 
of us charged a client for any service rendered 
that day the element of consideration was as con- 
spicuous by its absence from the transaction as 
is the element of sport from a ‘possum hunt, 
Lewis Hopkins. 

Duck Shooting on Barnegat Bay. 
Barnecat, N. J.—Editor Forest and Stream: 
Capt. Alfonzo Eayre and his son, Oscar Weyler, 
took us out in the commodious houseboat 
Octavia, owned and managed by the captain. The 
sail of about three miles to the houseboat was 
enjoyable and we had to be almost forcibly re- 
strained by the captain from shooting at the 
flocks of ducks that circled around us as if to 
tempt us to try our skill. The Octavia was a 
roomy affair, built on a scow, and with ample 
accommodations for six or eight persons. It 
was secured to the bank in a snug harbor in back 
of Little Beach and near the gunning ground. 
Once on board Weyler prepared a delicious meal 
and bed followed not long after. 
In a very short time after we had lain down it 
seemed to us we were awakened by the captain, 
who said it was time to be stirring, as the best 
points would be taken if we were not there early. 
We were almost tempted to let him go without 
us, as the comfort of our bunks nearly over- 
balanced our desire for duck shooting. We asked 
him if we could not shoot out of the windows, 
but on being told breakfast was ready we rolled 
out, thoroughly disgusted with sport of that kind. 
After breakfast we were soon ready with heavy 
coats and rubber boots, but as we emerged from 
the comfortable cabin the cold, chilly winds of 
November made us shake even in our warm 
clothing. The stars shone with unusual bril- 
hancy, the moon was just disappearing below the 
western horizon, and each gust of wind increased 
our chilliness as it blew across the waters of 
Barnegat Bay. : 
In a short while we were in our little sneak 
boxes, and in tow of Captain Eayre, whose skill- 
ful hand guided us safely across the rough water 
and landed us at what he called the southeast 
point of Sloop Ledge. 
We hauled our boats out on the low bank and 
gathered drift seaweed to spread over them, thus 
giving them the appearance of the meadows. 
Captain Eayre soon had the decoys arranged off 
the shore and we lay down in our boats to await 
daylight. We soon got warm and dropped in a 
doze, but were awakened by the report of the 
captain’s gun. His watchful eye had discovered 
a flock of broadbills in the act of rounding to the 
decoys. He pushed out and picked up eight fine 
fellows that had dropped to his unerring aim. 
He told us now was the time and to lie low and 
“keep our eyes peeled to the windward,” as the 
birds would begin to fly now, as daylight was 
beginning to show in the east. Slowly the leaden 
sky began to show a ruddy glow and the low 
clouds, which hung over the sea, were edged with 
gold as the sun made its appearance above the 
sand hills of the distant beach. 
Our attention was now called to a flock of 
geese which were flying lazily southward, and the 
captain called “Git down, git down.’ We were 
soon in a space of about two by six watch- 
ing with one eye the movements of Captain 
Eayre. He went through some acrobatic move- 
ments in order to attract the attention of the 
geese to the decoys, and they soon saw them and 
altered their course. Then the captain began to 
call, his voice seeming to sound as if from the 
wooden decoys. Occasionally he would stop to 
whisper to us, “Lay low,’ and we then flattened 
ourselves still more. 
In a few minutes he shouted, “Salt ’em boys!’ 
We rose and did the best we could, and when the 
smoke lifted there were five geese lying in the 
water. These were no sooner gathered than 
down came a fleck of broadbills, which gave us 
the best shot of the day, and on counting heads 
found we had eleven out of the flock. 
or so the flight was over, and when the excite- 
ete was at an end we realized that we were 
cold. 
By this time the wind was blowing hard from 
In an hour’ 
the northwest, and our decoys were beginning to 
ice up, so we told the captain we were ready to 
get back to our boat, and we started to row 
across the two-mile stretch of water. The wind 
being ahead our progress was very slow, but after 
hard pulling we reached the windward shore, and 
were soon on board, thawing out by a good fire. 
Chef Weyler soon had the feathers off a pair of 
broadbills and in a short while they were cook- 

THE BEAR TRAP. 
ing. One can imagine what our appetites must 
be after a row of about two miles in the crisp 
December air. We have eaten wild ducks in all 
shapes, but never had the privilege of tasting any 
like this stew of ducks, potatoes and a few oys- 
ters to flavor it. 
Our evenings were spent as usual in stories of 
the bay, and the days in shooting. The four days 
passed only too soon, and almost before we were 

‘THE TRAPPED BEAR. 
hs 
aware of it we were on our way home. We 
bid good-by to Captain Eayre and his son, and 
assured them that whenever an opportunity pre- 
sented itself we would take another trip with 
them, as we are satisfied there is no spot along 
the Jersey coast that can excel this one for sport, 
and we hope soon to have another chance to go 
duck shooting on Barnegat Bay. 
R. G. COoL.ins. 
A Trapped Maine Bear. 
Here are a couple of photographs representing 
a bear hunt in Maine made by F. J. Quinn, of 
Amesbury, Mass. The hunt was carried on by 
means of a trap, and not a gun. The first photo- 
eraph shows a part of the house in which the 
bear trap was set, and the other is the result of 
the setting five days later, a 300-pound bear, 
which was kept alive for six weeks in a log cage, 
and then gnawed its way out of the cage and 
escaped, lacking only a few toe nails. 
Mr. Quinn prefers to shoot bears and has been 
successful in doing so in the neighborhood of 
Round Mountain Lake. The bear photographed 
is the only one that he has ever trapped. 
Bears, as is well known, are cunning and shy, 
and it takes much skill and patience to hunt 
them successfully. The reward comes when the 
bear is secured. Bears are said to be rapidly in- 
creasing in the neighborhood of Round Mount ain 
Lake, and Mr. Quinn is already planning another 
campaign this season. 
A New Method of ‘Coon Hunting. 
“Editor Forest and Stream: 
While watching the antics of a tame raccoon 
at Camden, S. C., the other day it occurred to 
me that it would interest the readers of ForEST 
AND STREAM to hear of another instance of this 
sly little fellow’s cunning, and incidentally to 
learn another ‘wrinkle’ in the art of ’coon hunt- 
ing which is not as ancient and formal a sport 
as that of fox hunting and consequently cannot 
claim immunity from suggestions of new ideas. 
I spent a portion of the autumn of 1905 in 
Robeson county, N. C., and as the swamps in that 
district were tinusually low and dry, all the trap- 
pers of otters and mink and the ‘coon hunters 
were taking advantage of the conditions and kill- 
ing varmint to their heart’s content. I had the 
good fortune to attend several successful ‘coon 
hunts, and until this time had never known that 
it was possible to call a ’coon down a tree after 
he had once “treed.” The method of procedure 
was something as follows: 
After the usual preliminaries of finding the 
track and following the quarry with all the varia- 
tions of hound music that changed its tone as 
soon as the ’coon had treed; and when the dogs 
had certainly located the tree to which the ’coon 
had taken for safety, and it was found that he 
could not be seen with the aid of the torches, then 
one man was stationed at the foot of the tree 
with a gun and the two dogs. These two dogs, 
which had been furnishing glorious music during 
the whole hunt and were now exceedingly de- 
monstrative and noisy at the foot of the tree, had 
been carefully trained to stop barking and re- 
main perfectly quiet as soon as a coat was laid 
over the back of one of them, named Hobby, and 
a hand was placed on the head of the other, 
Traveler. This was the essential part of the suc- 
cess of the ruse, for it would have been impos- 
sible to induce the dogs to leave the tree, and by 
this method they were there ready for the ’coon 
when he came down. 
After all barking had stopped, the other mem- 
bers of the hunt with the lightwood torches went 
off from the tree a distance of some fifty yards 
and there proceeded to have a bogus ’coon and 
dog fight for the benefit of the ’coon up the tree. 
The greater the noise made up of squalling, cat 
calls, “growls, shaking the bushes and stirring up 
dead leaves, and the more perfect the imitation 
of dog and ’coon at vigorous battle, the sooner 
the ‘coon came down, for just as soon as the sly 
rascal heard the noise and imagined that the dogs 
were over yonder busily engaged with another 
‘coon, down he scrambled with a great scraping 
of bark and a tremendous slipping and sliding, 
on the side of the tree farthest away from the 
bogus fight, right into the jaws of death, where 
he was either promptly shot or caught by the 
dogs waiting there for him. 
Up to this time I had always thought that a 
‘coon had to be shot or shaken out of a tree or 
the tree cut down, or a sentry posted until day- 
break, but I believe this method infallible if a 
sufficiently good imitation of a battle royal be 
given. In fact, I have seen the same ’coon called 
down three successive times the same night after 
he had treed and been called down and gotten 
away from the man posted at the tree, who hap- 
pened to be your humble servant on one of those 
occasions; but generally a ’coon can only be 
called down in this fashion once during a hunt; 
then if the hunters cannot secure him and he gets 
away from the dogs and the man waiting for him 
with the gun, the old-time methods of the light- 
wood torch to “shine his eyes’ or the ax must 
be called into play after he has treed again. The 
success of the trick depends somewhat on the 
success of the imitation of the dog fight—we had 
two old ’coon hunters who never failed to bring 

