FOREST AND STREAM. 
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325 


“the haddock fishers have come;” as upon the appearance 
on their coast the fish itself was hailed by the fishermen. 
There is always a demand for haddock, and if the demand 
should at any time be slack, the ‘fish are sold for what they 
will fetch, and then the poorer classes of the population’ 
have their day. Generally the Norderney fishermen drive 
a pretty good trade. Soon the tidy female cooks of Brem- 
en and of Hamburg, will, basket on arm, grotes and shil- 
lings in apron pocket, besiege thé sloops. The captain, 
with immovable stolidity, will insist upon his own price 
and withstand all female blandishments ,for a reduction, 
until mutually tired out, the cooks pretend to go away to 
‘another sloop, ‘‘the captain of which will be more accom- 
modating.” The fisherman lowers his price one grote, and 
the cook grows more tractable, and is willing to give half 
a grote more. Then the bargain is struck to their mutual 
satisfaction, and the haddock is carried home in triumph 
to the kitchen. HY Ss 
——— ep 8 
RAIL SHOOTING ON THE DELAWARE. 
See i 
Epriror Forest anp StrEaAM:— ; 
Rail shooting is a sport enjoyed almest exclusively by 
Philadelphians; certainly in no other city is it followed so 
regularly, and with so much zest. The season occurs be- 
tween times, as it were, and after the two long summer 
months of July and August, when there has been little or 
no shooting, there is no wonder September ist is hailed 
with delight by the sportsman. 
The numerous flats and islands in the Delaware River at 
this season of the year are covered with a dense growth of 
wild oats, or reed, as it is commonly called, shooting up 
from the oozy bottom, alternately bare and flooded with 
water three or four feet at each succeeding rise and’fall of 
the tide. As the reed begins to ripen about the middle or 
latter part of August, the rail arrives and soon becomes 
very fat, the wild oats imparting to them a delicious flavor 
when served for the table. Countless numbers of reed, or 
rice birds, flock to the same feeding ground, and, although 
not proper game, are much persecuted, more on account of 
the dainty dish they offer than the pleasure they afford in 
shooting. 
Several varieties of the rail are killed on the Delaware; 
by far the most common isthe Rallus Carolinws, or sora. 
The Rallus Virginianus, or red rail, a few years ago was 
more frequently met with than latterly, and I may say 
that where fifty soras are killed but one or two red rails 
are boated. The Rallus Hllegans, or king rail, is compara- 
tively rare, but at times shot, and the Rallus Crepitans, 
clapper rail, or mud hen, so far leaves his home of the salt 
meadows as to sometimes fall a victim to his wanderings. 
The common coot, likewise of the same family of Rallide, 
or rail, may be considered a rare bird with us also; the 
writer, however, killed three of them while shooting sora 
the past October. 
In speaking of the Mulica Nigra, or common American 
coot, closely allied to the rail, Ido not wish it to be con- 
founded with the Fuligula Americana, or American scoter, 
a duck, vulgarly called a coot by some sportsmen and ail 
baymen. ‘ 
At most, rail shooting does not last longer than three 
hours during a day, and much depends upon the extent of 
the tide, andindeed a great deal on the wind and moon, for 
it is well known that a full moon, occurring during the 
prevalence of a ncrtheasterly or southeasterly wind will 
bring in ‘‘a high water,” which is most favorable for rail 
shooting. The more tide the most rail always. 
I have seen the water in the Delaware River, at the ‘‘top 
of the flood,” so low that one could scarcely be pushed 
more than a rod on the flats, this having been occasioned 
by the wind blowing from the northwest for the two pre- 
vious days. An afternoon tide is always the highest, and 
the sportsman posting himself as regards its state can jump 
into the cars, and within an hour’s time will reach either 
the Lazaretto, Chester, or Marcus Hook, the three best 
points on the river. At the Lazaretto (and this place I pre- 
fer to either of the others) good pushers can be had, and I 
will venture the Wood brothers, Dick Milt and Bill, Ben 
Badger and John Brown the best of all, especially as to 
marking and endurance. At Chester the greater portion 
of the men who follow pushing in September are of the 
“dark persuasion,” and therefore not so companionable; 
nevertheless, there are. many good ones among them, and 
one cannot go astray in engaging Sam or Dick Brown, Sam 
Preston, or Bill Rump, the son of old Bill, long noted for 
his prowess with the push pole. I should say that Pete Goff 
is about the only white pusher I would hire at Chester.. At 
Marcus Hook the three Haycocks are fine men; these are 
about all I know at ‘‘the Hook.” I seldom visit it, and do 
not fancy it much, as the ground is too limited. I have 
mentioned the names of pushers for the benefit of sports- 
men of other cities wishing to enjoy the sport, that they 
may engage by letter to Goff’s or Klutz’s Hotel, at Chester, 
or to Graysberry or Wells at the Lazaretto. I will say that 
to reach the latter place, Moore’s station, on the Phi!adel- 
phia and Darby branch of the Baltimore and Wilmington 
Railroad, is the place to get off. where Wells or Graysberry 
will be on hand with a team if advised beforehand. 
And now to the modus operandi of rail shooting. Fully 
equipped, with plenty of ammunition—one hundred and 
fifty rounds at least—{it is best to have enough, and not run 
short, as I did on one occasion, contenting myself with 
‘Jow boat” while my companions were knocking the birds 
right-and left around me). Your pusher will row youl 
will say from the landing at the Lazaretto, two or three 
hours before high water, to the upper end of Tinnicum 
Island, in the centre of the river, where, if the tide is to 
be a high one, the water will allow the boat to be pushed 
first on to a flat on the Jersey shore called ‘‘Clemmel,” 
which, I think, is the lowest on the Delaware. Standing 
a little forward of amidships you brace yourself while your 
attendant on the decked end of his clinker built skiff be- 
gins his work; and it is work, this pushing without cessa- 
tion of man and boat through masses of standing reed for 
two or three hours. As the skiff is propelled, the rail, 
forced to fly by the rising tide and the quick approach of 
the shooter, presents an easy and simple mark, the poleman 
attracting the sportsman’s attention by a ‘‘mark right” or 
‘mark left,” as the direction may be, the recovering being 
the most difficult, owing to the great sameness of the sur- 
rounding reed. But such is the skill of these pushers that 
I have known five birds to have been killed before one was 
boated, and all were recovered. Seldom, if ever, is a dead 
rail lost by any of these men. 
Shifting to grounds that allow the egress of the boat at a 
later state of the tide the sport is continued, aud shot after 
shot is hadin quick succession, each pusher striving to 
outdo his fellows, until the ebb drives the shooter from the 
flats to count his head of birds, and to learn who the lucky 
“high boat” is, for be it known a great honor is attached 
to the gun and to the pusher of the fortunate skiff. 
Frequently one hundred rail are killed during a tide. 
Sometimes one hundred and twenty, and never less than 
fifty, if there is any water at all. It is common while being 
pushed through the weeds to have shots at teal and larger 
ducks as they jump from some ditch or pool on the flats, 
and it is best always to have a spare gun with No. 5 or 6 
shot for them. As for rail, we use Nos. 9 and 10. A 
breech-loading gun is invaluable for rail shooting, and 
the “‘high boat” is generally found to be the possessor of 
one of these improved arms. Last season rail were unu- 
sually plenty, and shooting lasted well into the latter part 
of October, but we had very few very high tides, one hun- 
dred and seven rail being the greatest number of birds shot 
in a single day. 
It has often appeared strange to me that our New York 
friends do not pay us a visit during the rail season and try 
one or two days of it. By taking the through Washington 
train in the afternoon from Gotham they can be landed at 
Chester before midnight, arid by looking at any Philadel- 
phia paper can learn at what time it will be high water on 
the days they wish to shoot, always rating the tide forty 
minutes earlier at Lazaretto than at the navy yard at Phila- 
delphia, where the record is made. A létter to Klutz or 
Goff, Wells or Graysberry, will engage a pusher, and I will 
warrant a good time and plenty of it. 
English snipe shooting at these points and at this season 
can be had, and one can alternate his sport by taking one 
day with the rail and the next with the snipe. 
May our brother sportsmen of New York visit us next 
September is our wish, and may they be “‘high boat.” 
‘“Homo.” 
Oo 
CARIBOO HUNTING. 
ee 
; QUEBEC, Dec. 15th. 
Eprror ForEsT AND STREAM:— 
Possibly a few lines on our great fall sport, Cariboo hunt- 
ing round Quebec, may not be unacceptable to your readers. 
Fortunately the early introduction of the game act pre- 
vented the extinction of our noblest game, though the law 
came too late to save that lordly king of our forests, the 
Wapiti. He has disappeared, I fear for ever. But the bar- 
ren districts in rear of St. Paul Bay, on the lower St. Law- 
rence are yet the resort of cariboo, (the Woodland Cariboo) in 
large droves is sometimes as many as five hundred together. 
Our hunting parties generally leave the city with the first 
good snow roads, about the 25th November, in order to be 
back and eat their Christmas dinner at home, when the 
traditional fat goose is supplimented with a haunch of juicy 
venison with apple sauce. 
I can give the results of only one hunting party yet, the 
others being still on the war path: thus Messrs. J. 8S. Bud- 
den, J. Gibb, and M. Molson, are still in the wilderness, as 
well as Charles V. Temple Esq., of the Highlands, Sillery. 
The party just returned was composed of Col. D. C. Thom- 
son, and Mr. McNaughton, both of Quebec, the Hon. Hugh 
Elliott, son of the Earl of Minto, of Roxburyshire, Scotland, 
and Mr. Pratt, a sporting gentlemen from Norfolk, Eng- 
land. They left on the 26th November, drove down to St. 
Urbain, in winter vehicles, over the rugged north shore 
mountains a distance of about seventy miles. The recent 
thaw and rain which set in cut short their operations, and 
the frost which followed by rendering the snow hard and 
brittle prevented the noiseless and stealthy approach of the 
game. They had but one really favorable day to hunt, and 
bagged six cariboo, wounding two others which got away. 
Col. Thomson used the Spencer cabine and the Eng- 
lish gentlemen the Martin Henry. 
The cariboo still resort in large droves to feed on the 
white moss which clothes most luxuriantly the extensive 
moors in rear of Bay St. Paul, called Les Jardins, and bears 
are frequently met, attracted by a small red berry, which 
grows on low shrubs much like the low-bush cranberry. 
and whole moors are studded with this fruit, called by the 
Indians Des Grains. From St. Urbain the trip is made on 
snow shoes ‘The guides are harnessed to the wagons 
laden with provisions, ammunition and camp utensils, -and 
away you go for twenty or thirty miles on foot, over the 
most mountainous, but picturesque portion of the Lauren- 
tine chain, amidst some of the wildest and most lovely 
scenery on th» continent. From the top of the Montagne 
quarrée, the eye in the bright morning sun, takes in snow 
lakes, its valleys and gorges and several other trout lakes, 


sleeping in their northern solitude, with no other sound but 
the hoarse croack of the raven. Ool. Thomson reports the 
VYolverine (Carcajou or Indian Devil) in extraordinary 
abundance and so destructive to the game, that the trap- 
pers meditate using strychnine to poisonhim. This animal. 
the Gulo luscus of naturalists, is indeed an odious pest. 
There is no kind’ of mischief he has not a paw in, from 
robbing a beaver dam of its inmates, to stealing the mink 
and marten from the traps. His powerful claws and 
strength make him amatch for airy dog. Polenok, the 
colonel’s guide, tells of an encounter he witnessed between a 
good sized dog anda Carcajou. The Wolverine having 
seized hold of the dog by the neck, stood up on his hind 
legs and set to wrestle with him, holding him tight. Canis 
howled with rage in the grasp of his tormentor, when on 
the master going up to the scene the wolvreiné scampered 
off evidently pleased with the joke. 
Last season an old Nimrod wished to initiate a verdant 
Englishman in one of the peculiarities of the Canadian 
porcupine. Itso happened that the very next day the 
guide brought in what he styled an unknown beast. 
Though it did not seem very heavy, its weight was made 
the subject, of a bet, as to whether the Englishman could 
walk down to the camp with such a weight on his shoul- 
ders, on snow shoes. After half an hour’s trudging along, 
John Bull complained of a prickly sensation, which he felt 
through to his chamois coat, and on arriving at the 
camp he found the flesh of his back -was quite raw, the 
quills had pierced through the bag containing the animal, 
the leather and under-garments as well. John Bull had 
found out one of the peculiarities of a dead Canadian por- 
cupine. 
Cariboo hunting in winter is a great institution with our 
Quebec sportsmen, it is the sovereign remedy to dispepsia 
and disorder from the liver. But enough for to-day, Mr. 
Editor, I feel have even encroached more than I thought 
on your valuable space. Yours truly, 
J. M. LeMorye. 
a 
- OCTOBER IN THE ADIRONDACKS. 
AS As 
T was about six o’clock on a beautiful morning in Octo- 
ber when we started from Martin’s Hotel, Lower Sara- 
nac Lake, for a day’s hunt. We had a row of eight miles 
to get to our hunting ground; hence our early start. The sun 
soon appeared from behind the mountains, and with their 
snowy caps they sparkled like diamonds. The country 
far and and wide was covered with a veil of snow, and the 
view from our boat, as it wended its way through the 
islands of the Saranac, was one of surpassing loveliness. 
After travelling for about four miles on the lake, we en- 
tered the Saranac river, and passed rapidly down on its 
smooth bosom for about two miles. Its sides are lined with 
lofty pines, and as we passed on we would now and then 
catch a glimpse of the Adirondack range, Mt. Marcy, 
Whiteface, Seward and all the lesser hights, and close to 
our right Ampersand, with its single pine on the top. Af- 
ter a while we reached a place where a broad footpath led 
from the shore, and having disembarked, we followed this 
through the woods until we came to a group of five tents; this 
was to be our home fora few days; so we left our equip- 
ments in one of the tents, and then returned to the boats. 
The starter, with six trusty hounds at his belt, now went 
off into the woods. We kept on in our boats for about a 
mile, where we separated for our stations. As I was noth- 
ing but a boy, my place came about number five in point 
of excellence, there being four older ones in the party. 
But luck happened that day on my side, as will be seen. 
My guide and I watched on a narrow strip of land extend- 
ing into a large pond. He ascended a tall tree, which had 
the limbs trimmed, and from its top kept a sharp lookout. 
We had watched for about two hours, when I heard in the 
distance that sweet music to the hunter’s ear the bay of a 
hound; nearer it came until it seemed asif the deer were 
coming directly to us; but no, they swerved to the side, and 
we heard them going through the woods about a quarter 
of amile off. Then the hound ceased barking and we 
knew the deer must have taken to the water. It was not 
long before my guide jumped hurriedly down from the 
tree and told me there was a big buck over in the pond. 
We jumped into the boat, and in our hurry to get to open 
water nearly smashed several trees that were floating near 
the shore. We had rowed for about half a mile, when we 
saw the deer swimming with all his might for a marsh that 
bordered the shore; the water was about three feet deep 
over this, and it was covered with tall grass that would ef- 
fectually conceal him; hence we were afraid we would 
lose him if we did not head him off; but he was too much 
for us, and just as we came up he entered the marsh, not, 
however, without my sending a compliment in the way of 
six buck shot. There was a little open water between the 
marsh and the shore, and we knew that if we got in there 
we would cut him off from the shore. Around we went, 
the perspiration streaming off of us, but no deer could we 
see. We concluded he was still ih the marsh, so we shoved 
the boat in and through it, hoping to start him. We had 
gone over nearly all of it, when suddenly my guide ex- 
claimed, ‘‘there he goes;” but we saw, too late, his head 
disappear behind the tall grass. Back into the open wa- 
ter, and around we go; but he espies us, and takes to the 
marsh again. My guide sent a bullet after him but to no 
effect. We pushed the boat in where he went in, and soon 
T saw his head disappear again behind the tall grass; but 
this time he rose again, and leaped high in air; my left 
barrel poured its contents into his head; a splash followed 
and I knew [had hit him, Sure enough, we found the 
