Oct. 5,° 1907-] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
535 


pice of sport, and there was nothing to kick 
when we had three dead already and the 
oveys marked where we would surely get at 
“ast one more go at them. When Bobby and 
%t retrieved the birds, another disappointment 
as in store for us. The marquis had picked 
ut the two old cocks and both the mother hens 
ad escaped, so that there was little hope of 
nding the partridges scattered. 
We kept Bobby very close as we went after 
hem. and well it was that we did so, for they 
ose twenty yards off again all together. ‘This 
ime I was prepared and did not hurry, so that 
ve both scored doubles. To our delight the two 
oveys split in flight and then took to the hills 
‘he larger settled on one of the lower terraces, 
mong some bushy trees, and the smaller con- 
inued upward and scattered along some brush 
ery near the top. I turned to the boy. 
“Any use staying down here, or had we better 
‘o right up?” I asked. 
“T don’t know of another covey down here,” 
ve said, “and I think we had better get to the 
op before it becomes too hot. You see it will 
ake fully an hour to reach the lower one, and 
ve are lucky if we get to the top in two and a 
valf hours.” 
At this point I was reminded very forcibly of 
‘ormer days’ chicken shooting in Dakota; the 
ame occasional covey, the same long flights, the 
same interminable chases; only there was no 
‘omfortable buckboard to steer across the stub- 
sles, and the walking was mighty rough at times 
At first we let the dogs trot around, but they 
yegan to find quail and we had to tie them up. 
ft was a hot climb to that first plateau, but we 
inally reached it and unleashed Bobby and Pit. 
Pit discovered the birds, Bobby backing him 
ricely, and I circled below them to prevent the 
-oveys taking down hill. Partridge close their 
wings in going down the side of a mountain and 
low themselves practically to fall, attaining 
1 velocity that makes it next to impossible to 
nit them. 
A lively young hen was the first to whirr up 
and I dropped it. Then another sprang up be- 
hind me-that I missed very stupidly, and as | 
stood reloading the rest decided to take leave 
They rose noisily all about me, but I was not 
lin time to shoot and Cavalletti got only one. 
We could not even mark the escaped ones on 
account of the trees, so we made up our minds 
to go directly where the other covey had alighted 
and then work the plateaus downward. 
It was hard climbing. The path rose almost 
perpendicular, and our nailed soles slid at every 
step on the flat rock. But we were repaid 
when we got there; it was close brush and the 
birds held, The dogs worked well together and 
to see them play a running bird between them 
was a pretty sight. The actual shooting was not 
much fun: to kill a bird as big as a chicken, 
flying straight and alone over brush some three 
feet high, is child’s play. We had accounted 
for five when Fido got away and invaded the 
|premises. There was a scurry and much cack- 
ling, and it was the last we saw of a partridge. 
Fido was properly chastised and then _we re- 
traced our steps down the steep path. The sun 
was pouring down, but Fido was fresh, and the 
irrepressible Paff was only too anxious for work, 
so we sent- them to inspect the plateaus while 
we waited. They had hardly gone a hundred 
yards when Paff fell to a statuesque point, and 
for a wonder, Fido backed him. We ran up 
hurriedly and there beheld a spectacle that I will 
never forget. In the center of a small clear- 
ing, not more than five yards from the dogs, 
two large cock partridges stood facing each 
other in deadly combat. Not a sound came from 
| them; grim and earnest the battle was fought. 
Like game roosters the two went at each other, 
springing up with flapping wings, each trying 
| to get at the other’s head, feathers flying at every 
attack. They were so occupied that they never 
| noticed our approach. Alas, it did not last long. 
| The forgotten Paff became impatient and with 
a mighty spring landed on the unconscious com- 
| batants. One he caught in his spacious mouth 
| and the other he tried to stun with a whack of 
\his paw, but it gave a frightened cackle and off 
it sailed to tumble over ungracefully when 
Cavalletti’s little gun called to it to halt. 


Only one more bird did we find, which came 
to my gun, and we were glad to get to the valley 
where flowed a limpid stream. Until 3 o’clock 
we rested there, then cutting through the potato 
fields, where we shot seven quail, we reached 
the hut, and getting into the char-a-bancs we 
made an early start for Celano. 
HERBERT REEDER. 

Robinson’s Bear. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
We were seated around the camp-fire enjoy- 
ing the cheerful crackle and sputter of the 
big birch logs, for the weather had been un- 
usually cold for August, and only the night be- 
fore Jack Frost had made us a visit. Robinson 
was. as ustial; holding forth on his pet subject— 
“Hunting and Trapping B ” Personally, | 
doubted whether he had ever seen one. I am 
sure none of the rest of us ever had, except in 
the Zoological Garden, so he was safe and could 
talk till his pipes burst for all we could ga‘nsay 
him. We had just reached the point where 
Robinson was telling us the best way to 
despatch a bear that had been caught by the 
hind leg in a trap, when Victor, our man of 
ears. 
thought it was on account of the wood road 
However that may have been, we were each 
to walk straight ahead, after we had gotten our 
distances, for a mile and then close in a little 
and return. 
The theory of the plan was fine, but this is 
what happened: I had gone about a quarter 
of a mile, when I heard the excited bark of the 
dog and McDonald yelled, “There she goes— 
an old bear with two yearlings.” In a_few 
minutes two shots rang out, followed by “Help! 
She’s after me!” 
I let out a whoop and started for th 
to see Robinson dispatch his bear I 
the road in time to see him legging down the 
road f was worth, about one length 
ost nter 
ached 
for all he 
ahead of a very mad looking bear, who was in 
turn pursued by the fox-terrier, yelping and 
snapping at the old lady’s hind legs. He didn’t 
stop to tell me what I should do, but was out 
of sight in a jiffy. 
McDonald joined me in a few moments and 
we hurried back to see the fun. When we 
reached the pasture we found the bear dead and 
Jackson and Bishop rolling on the ground con- 
vulsed with laughter. On the other side of the 
Robinson all ina heap. After Bishop 
fence was 

THE 
all work, came in and told us that one of our 
neighbor’s five sheep had been killed by a bear, 
and that he had been seen dragging off the 
carcass by one of the guides. 
In a moment all was excitement; the thief 
or alive. Robinson 
iron, a shotgun, and 
must be taken either dead 
seized the only shooting 
filled his pocket with shells loaded with No. 12 
shot. McDonald took a machete, Bishop an 
ax. and I a .22 caliber target pistol. We were 
soon across the lake to our ne ghbor’s and 
found him waiting for us with his gun and fox- 
terrier. To the wood-lot, where the sheep were 
pastured, was about a mile. During our walk 
thither Robinson instructed us carefully what to 
do and not to do, until by the time we had 
reached the scene of battle we all felt as though 
we had been through a course of “First Aid to 
the Injured.” We found the remains of the 
bear’s banquet, sure enough, bift no sign of the 
beast: so Robinson, knowing all about bears, 
planned a campaign that would have done credit 
to a Wellington. Bishop and neighbor Jackson 
were to watch the pasture, while McDonald, 
Robinson and I, with the dog, were to make a 
hig circuit and try to drive the bear back to 
the watchers by the pasture. I went off to the 
right about 100 feet, McDonald to the left the 
same distance. while Robinson, as became an 
old hunter. chose the middle route, as_being 
the most likely one for the bear to take. I 

BROW N 
Called Starna by the 
PARTRIDGI 
Italians 
had gotten his breath he said that they were 
sitting on a log talking, when suddenly down 
the road came Robinson, hatless, gunless and 
speechless. Close behind him was the. bear 
still followed by the dog. He had no time to 
stop for any fences, so over he went, heels 
over head all in a heap, where he still lay. As 
she passed Bishop had killed the bear with a 
bullet just back of the shoulder, and when we 
came to skin her we found her right side filled 
with bird shot. 
Robinson isn’t interested in bears any more; 
he prefers tennis and croquet. 
Epwarp K. 

PARKINSON 

Cure for Ivy Poison. 
Arpany, N. Y., Sept. 30—Editor Forest and 
Stream: The communication on ivy poison in 
your issue of Sept. 21 adds naphthaline to the 
iong list of remedies for the trouble arising from 
ivy and mosquitoes. 
Tcarrv asmall bottle of the Homceopathic Rhus 
Tox. 3X when going into the country for any 
length of time, and can testify that it works like 
a charm, especially with children, who are bound 
to find the ivy vine if it exists in the neighbor 
hood. Of course it is an internal remedy, and 
it might be advantageously used while the 
naphthaline solution is being applied. Besides 
heing specific it eratifies the always present de- 
sire to give something. Jonn D..WHIsH 

