
The Very Latest WHITE Canoe 
The WHITE Outboard. Canoeish in 
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WHITE 
OUTBOARD MOTOR 
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Are perfectly balanced. 
Drag is avoided when run- 
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like all WHITE Canoes, has its 
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Write for catalog, folders, ete. 
E. M. WHITE & CO. Old Town, Me. 
Canoe Designers and Builders for 35 Years 




of t " 
of fishing ie 7 
bear the name 
ym ploreel"s 
Ask your sport shop to show you 
the 7 Symploreels. They are 
the best designed reels made— 
smooth running, long lasting, 
simple to clean and put to- 
gether—the reel that makes 
fishing a pleasure! 
7 models from $7.00 to 
$15 at all sport shops 
Send post card for free booklet, 
“Reeling In” — you'll enjoy it. 
MEISSELBACH CATUCCI MFG. CO. 
562 Stanton Street Newark, N. J. 

SPORT 
FREE 3008, 
CONTAINING 96 LIVE PAGES OF VAL. 
cA aa an FOR THE 
SPORT GUNS, AMMUNITION 
and SUPPLIES AT BARGAIN PRICES. 
P. VON FRANTZIUS 
608 Diversey Pkwy. Chicago, Ill. 
Toss Pork Rind Minnows: 
: Oriental Wiqgler- - ‘$190 00 
wo Nw Shimmy Wi TWheclens ance 



Bass, Musky or Fl 
Pork Rind Strips-45¢ Jar. 










Little Eqypt 
Shimmy: Fly Rod Wiggers }: 

In writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream, 
feet—I breathed through my mouth, 
so as to hear better, even breathing 
seemed to make too much noise. Step 
by step I went on and on—now stopping 
with a start, then on again, it was a 
false alarm. Then all of a sudden from 
the rose bushes appeared the horns and 
head of a giant buck, and then an in- 
stant look, and as he wheeled to run, 
the bang of my .32 Special. I threw 
in a new shell. Where did he go? I 
listened, I did not hear a thing. I didn’t 
see anything—where had he gone? 
Cautiously with gun ready for instant 
action, I followed the path and there 
on the ground I saw one of the noblest 
bucks ever killed. He was stone dead— 
I looked and looked—could it really be 
true? Yes,—there he was and such 
horns! I bled him, and before starting 
on the rest of the task I counted his 
points 15-16-17-18-19-20-21, and if you 
wanted to count a small one, 22! Big? 
Around 300 pounds. Happy? Well, I 
should say so. 
L and I were to meet at an old log 
house. I needed help—I could not 
pack out that deer. To make sure’ I 
could find the place again I had to leave 
some marks, so I tied up my big blue 
handkerchief near the deer, then next 
I put up a white handkerchief—then I 
was out of material and was debating 
about a sack or a piece of shirt tail 
when I noticed a peculiarly deformed 
tree which after studying it well, I was 
sure that I could find—then when I 
came to the turn in the trail, I laid a 
stick in a peculiar way so I would know 
where to turn off, and I made it back 
for the cabin. 
I lay on the south side of the cabin 
in the warmth of the sun—it was a 
glorious old rest, but before long I saw 
Al coming. He was the worst looking 
object I had seen for some time—he 
was mud and blood all over, but his 
face showed he was surely happy. 
When in hailing distance he said, “I 
got a great big buck,” and when he 
came up to me, I rather thought the 
great big buck had got him! So I 
called for an explanation. 
went down in the opening and got lo- 
cated—hadn’t been waiting very long, 
when I heard a stick crack and looking 
in that direction, I saw a doe and two 
bucks, the biggest one was out of range, 
but I opened up on the other—I missed 
the first shot, and I missed the second, 
and I waited for him to come at another 
opening, and when he did, I pulled him 
down. I ran for him as fast as I could, 
and laying my gun down I started out 
in some deep mud to him, and just as 
I got right up to him he got up and 
charged me, hitting me with his horns 
in my stomach. I was knocked flat on 
my back, but I was hanging on to a 
horn by my hand. There I was in mud 
knee deep flat on my back with the deer 
ANGsardian ls 
over me, and the blood running down 
on my clothing. We had some scrap, 
I said,“If you will just wait a minute, 
Mr. Buck, and let me up, I will go and 
get my gun and never stop shooting 
until you’re dead.” But he was not of 
that way of thinking, so I tried “bull- 
dozine”’ him and as he was badly hit 
ana getting weaker all the time, I 
finally got him down, and now we will 
have to carry him out.” 
(When Al first told me this story, he 
said he “hollered for help,” but now he 
says he hollered “I have got him,” now 
which do you think he said?) 
“You get anything?” For answer I 
pulled of my right glove and he saw 
a red hand and I really believe Al was 
more pleased to think that I had gotten 
a buck then he was to get one for him- 
self. Al is really not a bad fellow if 
he does sell ammunition. 
IS buck was of the variety known 
as fan tail. It is smaller than 
the big white tail, which is sometimes 
locally known as “swamp buck.” The 
fan tail had nine nice points. 
We sent both heads to Jonas Broth- 
ers of Livingston, Montana, for mount- 
ing and in writing concerning my Buck 
they said it was “the largest White Tail 
head we have received for mounting in 
a great number of years.” And they 
have been mounting specimens for the 
National Museum. 
Al and I are going again next year. 
We are going to the main range of the 
Rockies. You can live but once, and 
I never knew what real sport was until 
I went deer hunting. 
I don’t dare tell you about. carrying 
out those deer, especially the big one. 
The country is so rough, a pack horse 
can’t get in where we were. Al and I 
are good pals, but while our hearts are 
alike our legs are very dissimilar. Al 
might be termed a general purpose ani- 
mal, while I was built for picking ap- 
ples. I don’t need a ladder, and as a 
consequence, I held the pole too high, 
or else Al held it too low, and with the 
deer between—Aw, it was a fright. Af- 
ter we started we could carry it about 
100 steps and rest. When I was just 
about dead, we laid the iast deer within 
reach by the car and started for camp. 
I was ahead and, of course, couldn’t 
see Al, but he asserts that my coat tail 
was just off the ground, and that I 
wasn’t moving a muscle—I didn’t have 
too. I will admit it, but while my feet 
were heavy my heart was light. 
Al is a bully fellow, if he does snore 
and sell ammunition—and I, well I am 
no hardware merchant—I am an HON- 
EST lawyer. 

It will identify you, 
