and November and part of December. 
In all that time, each one will kill less 
than half a dozen ducks. All of these 
men have another hobby besides hunt- 
ing—that of carefully avoiding work. 
Many of them have wives and children 
who are pinched with hunger and in 
rags all the year round. Every now 
and then one of these men is brought 
into court because he has been brutally 
attacking his wife and children. Every 
now and then some bird lover proposes 
that the Dundas Marsh be closed to 
shooting and hunting except for ver- 
min and muskrat trapping. A howl is 
instantly started that the poor work- 
ing man who cannot afford to travel 
far to shoot will be deprived of his 
sport. Besides, if we don’t shoot the 
ducks in Canada, the Americans will 
only get them later. In my opinion, 
the Dundas Marsh should be closed to 
shooting in or out of season and should 
be patroled by good game wardens. 
Hamilton would then have a splendid 
attraction of great interest to great 
numbers of people far and near who 
would motor over to see the wonderful 
sight of thousands of wild ducks, per- 
haps some geese also, enjoying rest and 
food at a city’s door. Just as Oakland, 
California, has its Lake Merrit; just 
as Detroit has Jack Miner in south- 
western Ontario, so a hundred other 
cities could have live bird sanctuaries. 
The Dundas Marsh, if made a Crown 
Reserve for migratory waterfowl, 
would soon be visited by thousands of 
wild ducks, thousands more wild geese, 
and hundreds of swans. If one wanted 
to kill these birds, they could be shot 
elsewhere. 
@ course, you may accuse me of 
being a joy killer and devoid of 
the spirit of sport, because I do not 
like to kill what are known as “game” 
birds. However, I don’t think any one 
gets more pleasure 
from sport: trapping 
and hunting vermin of 
all kinds; playing wa- 
ter polo; swimming 
down swift rapids full 
of boulders, just as the 
voyageurs of earlier 
days ran the rapids in 
their canoes. Some 
sportsmen are Satis- 
fied to go out and 
shoot a few birds; oth- 
ers want all they can 
get. I’ve seen some 
hunters with hundreds 
of wild ducks in all 
stages of decomposi- 
tion. Then there are 
loafers who are _ in- 
curable, that is, they 
won’t do anything un- 
592 
Photo by Bendick 
less they are destroying something. I 
have seen some of these last named 
turned into good citizens by getting © 
them started on a bit of ground with 
a few birds to breed. They are soon 
changed from “all the year round” 
game destroyers. 
i pease now, there is a fight on be- 
tween the “balance of nature” peo- 
ple and the game breeders. The former 
want everything left alone—even the 
vermin. These people make great use 
of various magazines, to cry down the 
hunting of cats and crows. After the 
most careful thought on the subject, I 
have decided that these people are suf- 
fering themselves from a lack of “bal- 
ance.” If we all thought and acted on 
their advice, the world would contain 
only insects and fish. The crow is a 
blackguard and we can easily do with- 
out him and his kind. Those same in- 
jurious insects that he eats can be 
eaten by gentlemanly, useful birds 
such as quail, grouse, pheasant, par- 
tridge and wild turkey. Might as well 
say: “Don’t shoot the gunmen.” Chi- 
cago—I’ve been in that neighborhood 
for some little time—and the Province 
of Quebec have about the same popu- 
lation. Recently they had a very de- 
plorable shooting case. You will recall 
that the law took its course, although 
it was a sad affair. BUT no one else 
is being shot up there. Whereas, in 
Chicago, atrocious crimes are commit- 
ted frequently because the law does 
not take its course. Gunmen and oth- 
ers in that city do away with over 
three hundred people a year. 
So it will be with our beautiful wild 
life if we allow vermin to run or fly as 
it will. The balance has been upset— 
we have done it ourselves—and we our- 
selves must now see to it that use- 
ful, edible, beautiful game is restored. 
That means that we have to control 

The proof of the pudding. Mature buffle heads and golden eyes raised 
by Mr, H. D. Bendick. Barrels and artificial logs were placed along 
the edge of the pond for nesting purposes. 
the vermin; protect the game; and 
have breeders of game. 
The day before yesterday, being in 
the vicinity, I dropped into Wallace 
Evans’ game farm of 800 acres, west 
of St. Charles, Illinois. The first thing 
I saw, lying beside a barn door, was 
a good sized bunch of marsh and red 
tail hawks; also a great horned owl, 
all recently shot. Both the red tail 
and the marsh hawks will pick up a 
pheasant as soon as they see it. “Of 
course, a marsh hawk will prefer a 
rabbit, if he sees one, but all our pheas- 
ants are loose,’ Mr. Evans drawled, — 
“and a pair of Lady Amhersts picked — 
up each day would mean a loss of $35 
a day. If that bunch of a dozen hawks 
were at work each day over our pre- 
serve, we would soon land in the poor 
house.” “And Americans don’t like 
poor people,” I added. 
Naturally, I took some pictures of 
these hawks and the owl. Once I called — 
at a government game farm a few 
miles outside of Victoria, B. C., and 
found one of the game keepers had the — 
greatest collection of hawks and owls, 
strung along on wires, that I had seen 
anywhere, not even excepting the Natu- ~ 
ral History Museum in New York. 
But, alas, I had not taken my camera 
with me; neither had my wife taken 
hers, and we had to leave those hawks 
and owls just where they were, strung 
along on wires, as an example to their 
kind. 
our cameras to every game farm. 
| ASKED Wallace Evans how he got 
alongwith dogs as I saw some fawns 
on the highway. He told me when he 
was nearer Chicago that dogs killed 
large numbers of his pheasants, water- 
fowl and deer and now he took no 
chances with stray, uncontrolled dogs. 
He shot them the instant they came 
along. By my own experience, uncon- 
trolled dogs are a 
great menace to game. 
I think all of us appre- 
ciate the Humane So- 
cieties’ method of hay- 
ing such dogs caught 
and smothered. 
stray dogs are owned 
by indigent persons 
and are never fed, ex- 
cept with a perfectly 
food value 
quite a territory, hunt- 
ing for food. It is 
really quite astound- 
ing how quickly they 
learn to eat the eggs 
of nesting pheasants 
(Continued on p. 622) 
These 
dry bone that has no 
whatever 
to the dog. Hence, the 
running at large over 
But, since then, I always take . 



















