Now for squirrel hunting. There is 
good squirrel hunting in the swamps 
and along the creeks and river. I like 
to use my little Winchester .03 auto. 
.22 for that, though nearly everybody 
uses a shotgun. Quite often a lucky fel- 
low or a good shot gets the limit which 
is 25. 
Rabbits are plentiful, too, and some 
delight in indulging in that particular 
sport. 
There are quite a few doves, and I 
delight in shooting them. Getting out 
in their feeding field before dawn and 
waiting until they start flying, I pump 
it to them with my model 520 Stevens. 
In some places the partridges are 
quite plentiful, though in some condi- 
tions they are vice versa. One day with 
a good dog I got up 14 covies, while 
one day without a dog I walked up 7 
covies. 
There are few wild turkeys in the 
swamps. The largest ever killed around 
here weighed 32 pounds. 
Usually at the duck ponds, snipe 
predominate and cause quite a few 
wasted shots and cusses. 
Ducks abound in Baker County and 
many of them are also put out of com- 
mission. Baker is not the only place, 
however, as there are still some in 
Dougherty, Lee, and other counties, 
though Baker is considered the best 
hunting and fishing county. 
Well, that covers quite a bit and I 
will now sign off. 
Pa GwPrRvsE 
Albany, Georgia. 
Prairie Chickens in North Dakota 
DEAR FOREST AND STREAM: 
T was a bright, sunny afternoon in 
early October, just a few days before 
the close of the open season, that a 
friend (whom I shall refer to as Mell) 
and I decided to take our last fling at 
the prairie chicken. So we took the 
flivver and headed east for a section of 
country known as the “Alkali.”’ The 
“Alkali” is an old lake bed covered with 
a good growth of grass and dotted here 
and there with clumps of willows. It 
is some hundreds of acres in extent and 
surrounded by wheat-fields and corn- 
fields, the happy feeding grounds of the 
chicken. All this makes it an ideal 
place for chicken shooting. 
As the laws of this state forbid the 
use of dogs, the hunter must depend on 
his wits to flush the birds. This method 
affords plenty of exercise and a satis- 
fied feeling—though a little tiresome at 
times—of having met the birds on an 
equal basis. Of cours one does not al- 
ways get the bag limit but he seldom 
comés home empty-handed either. 
228 
When we were about three miles 
from town we saw a bunch of chickens 
flying. They flew about one-half mile 
and settled by the roadside. As there 
were thirty or forty chickens in the 
bunch it looked as if we should get our 
limit without much effort. We were to 
be disappointed in this and to enjoy 
an afternoon afield. A fortunate mis- 
hap caused us to get but one bird 
apiece. We had been shooting auto- 
matics but this time Mell thought he 
would use his brother’s pump. When 
the chickens flushed I got one shot and 
the automatic jammed. While I was 
trying to extract the shell I was listen- 
ing for Mell’s gun thinking that he 
would get a number of birds. Imagine 
my surprise when I turned and saw him 
vainly pulling the trigger. I said, 
“Why don’t you pump your gun?” It 
was then that he realized that he was 
not shooting his own gun. By this time 
the chickens were out of range and go- 
ing strong. After having a laugh over 
our mishap we picked up our two birds 
and proceeded on our way. 
Arriving at the “Alkali” we parked 
the Ford in a field and walked to the 
nearest clump of willows. Mell took 
one side and I took the other so that 
by circling it we would meet. About 
half way around one lone bird flushed 
exactly between us and in such a man- 
ner that neither could get a shot with- 
out endangering the other. We went to 
the next bunch of willows but nothing 
got up. At the third, just as we were 
about to meet, a chicken flushed. We 
were not in a position to see each other 
so doubled on it. But it was a long 
shot and we did not spoil the bird. 
We next covered a corn-field where 
we flushed three birds, each getting one 
and both missing the third. A little 
farther on we missed a second and a 
third. We now doubled back covering 
three more willow clumps without flush- 
ing any more birds. 
We returned to the car and started 
on our way home. We now had five 
birds. Before we had gone a great dis- 
tance Mell spotted a bunch feeding in 
a flax-field. We left the car and walked 
toward them. When we were about 
fifty yards from them they flushed. 
There were twelve in the flock. We 
each got two and missed three shots. 
The old pump again fooled Mell but 
in a different way than it did the first 
time. One chicken had left the bunch 
and had flown in the opposite direction. 
It circled and headed back coming 
straight for us. Knowing that I had 
shot my five shots I called to Mell, 
“Take that one.” Mell thought he had 
also emptied his gun since he had fired 
five shots. But he raised the gun and 
the remaining sixth shell did the work. 
It was a beautiful shot, for the bird 
was high in the air. This made our 
bag limit of five birds each. 
We again returned to the car and 
after lighting our pipes, we reviewed ~ 
the afternoon shoot. As with most 
hunters, we had our alibis for our 
misses. And just how they could have 
been turned into hits if they had been 
done this way or that way. During the 
conversation Mell remarked that the 
next time he would be more familiar 
with the pump or stick by the auto- 
matic. 
We continued on our way home jubi- 
lant in spirit, since this was our first 
bag limit of the season. We also had 
a satisfied feeling of having spent a 
perfect day afield. Arriving at home 
we found the cooks well pleased also, 
for the prairie chicken makes one of 
the finest of meals. 
V. A. WATSON, 
Bathgate, N. D. 

A young moose 

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