ALBERT R. MANN LIBRARY NEw York STATE COLLEGES OF AGRICULTURE AND HoME ECONOMICS AT CORNELL UNIVERSITY Cornell University Library SK 40.S55 il i mann Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924003428178 aa) . ‘eoaldsnualy THE BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. ITS HABITS, HABITAT, HAUNTS, AND CHARACTERISTICS; HOW, WHEN, AND WHERE TO HUNT IT. BY JupGe JoHn Dean Caton, Newron Hrbss (‘‘Roxey Newton”), W. A. Perry (“SruLaLicum"), Wma. P. Lert (“Atconguin”’), ARTHUR W. Du Bray (“GavcHo’’), WALTER M. WoLFE (“Snosnone”), Rev. Josoua Cooke (“Boone”), T. S. Van Dyke, Wm. B. Ler FINGWELL, T. G. FARRELL, Dr. R. B. CaAnTRELL, Cot. Geo. D. ALEXANDER, M. E. ALison, Rev. Dr.W.S. RarnsrorD, C. A. CoopEr (‘‘SIBYLLENE”), Dr. M. G. Evizry, J. C. Narrrass, Orin BeLENaP (‘UNCLE Fuiier"), H. BIepERBICK, JOHN FANNIN, SERGT. FRANCIS Lone, DanieL ARRowsmITH (“SANGAMON”), CYRUS W. Buruer, anp A. G. Requa. al fi ‘ a EpItEp By G. O. SHIELDS (‘‘Coqurna’’), AUTHOR OF “CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADES,” ‘“‘RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES,” “HUNTING IN THE GREAT WEST,” “CAMPING AND CAMP OUTFITS," ‘THE BATTLE OF THE BIG HOLE,” ETC. CHICAGO AND NEW YORK: RAND, MCNALLY & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. 1890. 379098 Foy, 4 ¢\ Copyricut, 1890, sy G. O. SHreLps. All rights reserved. Big Game. I desire to express thus publicly my gratitude to my collaborators for the prompt and generous manner in which they have responded to my requests for contributions to this work. For any one man to produce a book of the scope and size of this, would require the work of many years, and then it could not be so complete as this. It is only ‘by the hearty and sympathetic codperation of such ardent sportsmen, trained naturalists, and big-hearted men as those composing my staff, that so comprehensive and valuable a work as this is possible. They have done the world a service of great and lasting value, and one for which all lovers of nature should feel as grateful to them as does THE EDIToR. Cuicaco, May, 1690. (5} CONTENTS. PAGE. INTRODUCTION. : : . The HonoraBLeE JoHN DEAN Caron, Author at “The Antelope and Deer of America,” “A Summer in Norway,” etc. MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. Newron Hrsss (‘“‘ Roxey Newton’). ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. W. A. Parry (“‘ Sillalicum™). THE WAPITI (Poem). ; Eh ee. & . War-Bapemrnr, ” THE CARIBOU. : : : ‘ Wim Prrrman Lett (“‘ Algonquin’’). ‘THE WOODLAND CARIBOU. _ ‘ . : bs Dr. R. B. CANTRELL. THE MULE DEER. ‘ . Rev. JosHuA CooKE (“Boone”). THE MULE DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. S T. S. Van Dyxz, Author of ‘The Still Hunter,” etc. THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. é i Tromas G. FARRELL THE VIRGINIA DEER. ‘ 3 WALTER M. Wo re (“ Shoshone ~). A DEER-HUNT (Poem). p é . ‘““WAH-BAH-MI-MI, ** HUNTING THE GRIZZLY BEAR. i W. S. Rarsrorp, D. D. THE POLAR BEAR. . : a Seret. Francis Lone, of the Greely Arctic penta, and Grores S. McTaviss, of the Hudson’s Bay Company. A POLAR BEAR HUNT. P ‘ : : a THE BLACK BEAR. . . q . ‘ Cou. Gzoree D. ALEXANDER. THE BUFFALO. . < o e ‘ a . Opin Betxnap (‘ Uncle Fuller *), THE MUSK-OX. . ‘ 4 i < i j H. BIzDERBICE, of the Greely Arctic Expedition. STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. . ARTHUR W. bu Bray (“‘ Gaucho"). COURSING THE ANTELOPE WITH GREYHOUNDS. « ME, ALLISON, THE DEATH OF VENUS (Poem). ‘ - Winuram P. Ler, THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. . . i . JOHN Fannin. THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 3 - G. 0. Surenps (“ Coquina”). 6) 11 115 201 241 247 Bs 341 CONTENTS. 7 THE PECCARY. . ‘ fi F . . i 7 ‘ . A. G. Regva. THE COUGAR. . ‘ : i i : 3 0‘ : ‘ W. A. Perry. THE LYNX. ‘ ‘ . % . rene : 7 i . J. 0. Narrrass. THE WOLF. . . . . . . eo. el) Wea P. Lerr. COURSING THE GRAY WOLF. . . . . . . . D. S. Cage. THE WOLVERINE. . . . . . . . OA. CoopEr (‘‘ Sibyllene”). THE WILDCAT. . z . ‘i z . Dane, ARRowsmiTa (‘‘ Sangamon’). COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. ... DANIEL ARROWSMITH. FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA, . . . . . . . DRM. G, Exuzey, Associate Editor The National Economist. ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. eo Be ok Cyrus W. BuTiER.. THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. j - Jupce JoHn Dean Caton, and WILL14m B. LEFFINGWELL, Author of ‘‘ Wild Fowl Shoot- ing,” ‘‘Shooting on Upland, Marsh, and Stream,”’ etc. 7 PAGE. 391 405 429 549 567 - FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE. FRONTISPIECE, . BY hoe OE. se ti, Cle BR. tac CR. Sg. DR Se A BULL MOOSE, . , a ee at BROWSING,. . . . . . « « «ss ee Opposite 38 THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS, . @. cide ok Bows: « & “ 66 BIG CARIBOU HORNS, ia dy ate +t. SAL tin 2. 92 CURIOSITY SATISFIED, Ay aie GRE URE EGA de. tae ty, « 126 THE RESULT, : My ahs “dc- cere od we, age 146 A STANCH POINT, Si: Be ton Ap dah < S “ 176 CHRISTMAS EVE AT A CATTLE RANCH, ie. cee LURLL ch J 198 A RUDE AWAKENING, , A cae Od > lay “99g HARD PRESSED, Se a a Oe. , 8 ore DELIBERATION, . . .- SB : : ~ 280 A NOVEL CHASE, in in dS, Hy A Cae OH, docks 298 HEAD OF MUSK-OX, . a ee ae ‘ “ 306 A ROUND-UP ON THE MISSOURI, . . . . .~ ae 326 THE FINISH, go. Bo SH OS ok er OB “ 340 WANTED—A FRIENDLY HAND, Oe we Ce ae AS ae i, EB 352 CAMPWARD BOUND, de oBa He, cn Ae eo “ 386 AT BAY, . ; ioe Re, GEL ae: OE byl, ay, Die Se 392 ONLY WAITING, - . 2... ee “402 SURPRISED, . . . - 6 4 ee ew ee . # 408 POACHING, ; ge Cah ee Sa Oe As. SS “ 440 “ENFANT PERDU,” dy oki: , BY Ca > 2S, C® dda ee: B. 468 INATTHE DEATH, - . - . . 1 we ew “ 508 TALLY-HO! , 4) uh. eed. Ae. Ge OBE. datas ca, abs, 540 FORWARD ON! OR dhe we. Gee Se. Sp. Ie. 2 “ 544 A PUGNACIOUS PASSENGER, . . . . + «© «© ws & 562 (8) OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS. ELK CALF, . .. eo a Ae. BAS et Jet. 5 WOODLAND CARIBOU, . . . . . BARREN-GROUND CARIBOU, eh tn SAP fel Tes Ces RESTING, . . . . ma. a 48: A PORTRAIT, i. Ge. is oe. Dee Chg Se. OE SR ON GUARD, mG Oe ee Oe SHIPPED,. . .. e Ake G4 GOATS—FEMALE AND YOUNG, . ea - MOTHER AND SON, sh ut ; ie) Bs ol THE SULTAN OF CHOPACA, . . . ; COUGAR AND YOUNG, . . . . . 4. . WOLVERINE, ‘ S gti. a, BAe. & RACCOON, . a. So BLOWN OUT, . S a. Be eh wet ee’ we, CE INTRODUCTION. By Jonn DEAN CaTOoN, Author of “The Antelope and Deer of America;” ‘A Summer in Norway,” etc AM requested to write an introduction to Mr. Shields’ book, ‘‘The Big Game of North America,’ and it affords me great pleasure to comply with this request. sy Yet, the first question I asked myself when I read the editor’s letter-was, ‘“‘ Why intreduce such ‘men-as these: to American readers?”’ What need is there to commend, to reading sportsmen or to naturalists,a book written by such able, conscientious, indefatigable workers in the interests of natural history, field sports, game protection, and sportsmen’s literature as the men whose names appear as contributors to this work? Why should I write in behalf of the noble, the pathetic, the conscientious ‘‘Shoshone;”’’ the careful, painstaking “‘Roxey Newton;’’ the eloquent, the enthusiastic, the poetic ‘“‘ Algonquin;”’ the gallant champion of the hounds, Doctor Ellzey; the venerable lover of Nature, Colonel Alexander; the genial, big-hearted ‘‘Uncle Fuller;’’ the nature-loving “‘Sibyllene;’ the careful naturalist, But- ler, or the ever fresh and interesting old hunter, ‘‘ Sanga- mon?’’ Their numerous and fascinating contributions to the sportsmen’s press have made their names household words throughout the land. Why should I introduce the sturdy, cautious Van Dyke; the eloquent, the beloved ‘‘Boone;”’ the flowery ‘‘Sillalicum;”’ the earnest, enthusiastic ‘‘Gaucho,’’ or the arduous mountaineer, ‘‘Coquinat’’ I need not; I will not presume todo so. They are known throughout the Eng- lish-speaking world; and the man who has not yet read “The Still Hunter,’ ‘‘Cruisings in the Cascades,’’ and (11) 12 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. ‘* Rustlings in the Rockies,’’ has thus far missed the most intense happiness that could possibly be crowded into a few hours by his own fireside. . All these and many other well-known names appear as contributors to the present volume—that of the last-named writer as the editor thereof. Each writes of a species of game that he has studied for years, not alone in dust-cov- ered books, but in that grander school, the realm of Nature. These men have spent days, weeks—aye, in some cases, many years—in the wilderness, sleeping on the trails of the animals they now write of—watching their movements. by ‘day, listening to their calls by night, and, after the fatal bullet has done its work, dissecting and studying the structure of the bodies of their victims on their native heath. But this book is not designed to interest the sportsman ‘alone. While it does not assume to be a strictly scientific work, yet the professional naturalist will find much in it, not only to interest, but to instruct, him. The natural his- tory of an animal does not consist alone of his bones. As showing a record of the past, these contain the only reliable data to tell us of the animals that lived long ago, and to identify genera and classes of existing fauna; but, at present, other parts of the animal deserve our attention aswell. He consists of flesh and blood, as well as of bones, ‘and can not be thoroughly understood without a careful study of all these constituent parts. From a scientific point. of view, the osteology of an animal is undoubtedly of prime importance; but in a prac- tical, utilitarian consideration, the broader field of general morphology, and especially of myology, is of equal and even greater importance, while the psychology which is developed in various animals, in some respects, interests us most of all. Nature has endowed all animals with a certain meas- ure of mental capacities, and these constitute a part of their beings. So they alike come within the domain of natural history. None of these are beneath the study of the scientists. ‘While the component parts of the dead animal may be INTRODUCTION. 13 studied with the aid of the dissecting knife, other facilities are required for the proper study of the mental endowments of the animal, and for this, observations of the animal in life are indispensable. Here, then, especially may the natu- ralist find many valuable lessons in the several papers col- lected and given to the world in this volume. The hunter alone has complete opportunity to study the habits, char- acteristics, and capabilities of the animals which he pur- sues. He observes and studies carefully the sagacity and cunning of the Fox, the Wolf, and many other animals, in securing a supply of food or in avoiding danger, showing capabilities with which they are endowed for their well- being. In the American Antelope, for instance, he sees a curiosity manifested which often leads it to destruction. The sportsman, I say, studies and observes all these characteristics, not alone because they interest him and fur- nish him food for thought while on the hunt and for dis- cussion by the camp-fire, but because he is aware that he must know all the resources of the game in order to hunt it successfully. I repeat, therefore, that he who would scientifically study natural history, will find much in the papers, written by these skillful, practical hunters, and given to the world in this volume, to aid him to a full understanding of this vast subject, for which he might look in vain elsewhere. And, then, whatan array of subjects is here presented for study! Every species of Big Game inhabiting this conti- nent is here served up; and several species that do not strictly come within that classification are treated, because they occasionally afford sport or incident to the hunter when in search of other animals. Among the most important papers are those on the Buffalo—now, alas! practically extinct—in its wild state; those on the Polar Bear and the Musk-ox, furnished .by survivors of the memorable Greely Arctic Expedition, who hunted and subsisted largely on these and other wild animals while battling with icebergs, starvation, and death in the frozen North. The Rocky Mountain Goat, that mysterious and little-known habitant 14 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. of the snowy cliffs, is written of by a man who has lived half a life-time beneath the shadows of its Alpine home, and who has probably killed more goats than any other man, living or dead. Then there is a most interesting and valuable chapter on the Peccary, or Mexican Wild Hogan animal that few Northern sportsmen have ever seen, and yet one that swarms in certain portions of Arizona, Texas, and our sis- ter Republic. Its habits, habitat, and range are accurately described, and thrilling accounts are given of several hunt- ing expeditions after this animal, in which large numbers of them were killed. We all have read many articles descriptive of Moose- hunting in Maine and Canada, -but here is a novelty. Mr. Hibbs has given us a paper on Moose-hunting in the Rocky Mountains, embellished with valuable notes as to the habits - of the great ruminant, under its rugged environment, and with such thrilling episodes and adventures in hunting it as could only have been experienced in that strange and picturesque land. ‘‘Sillalicum’’ has given us a study of the Cougar, and Nattrass one of the Lynx, never before equaled by any writers, and which could not have been- produced by other than the enthusiastic hunters and naturalists that they are. Mr. Lett’s paper on the Caribou throws much new light on the habits and character of that strange denizen of the great northern wilderness. He-has lived half a life-time ‘in its woodland home, and has had exceptional opportuni- ties for studying it in its wild state. Mr. Cooper contributes the most complete and compre- hensive monograph of the Wolverine that has ever been written. He has lived in the various portions of the country which it inhabits, for twenty-five years, and, in addition to his own experience with it, gives many inci- dents and anecdotes collected from other hunters and trap- pers. His paper comprises over seven thousand words, and will prove of inestimable. value to all who wish to learn the true life history of this, heretofore, little known animal. INTRODUCTION. : 15 There are many other names and subjects that I should like to speak of in detail, but time and space forbid. The editor of this work has not overlooked the fact that this is preéminently a practical age—an age of object- teaching. He has, therefore, illustrated his book in a way that he and his contributors may justly feel proud of. Altogether, there is given here such a study of the natural history of our game quadrupeds, and of the thrill- ing incidents encountered in hunting them, as has never before been offered to the reading world. Each chapter in this book is in itself a complete work, and the book, as a whole, is a most valuable library. Any one of the names on Mr. Shields’ list of contribu- tors should insure the sale of an entire edition of his book, and when we multiply this possibility by twenty-six, the whole number of names on his title-page, the result obtained indicates the magnitude of the success that should, and that we hope will, crown his labors and those of his collaborateurs. ‘ ee ee BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. ‘ By Newron. Hrszs (‘‘ Roxzey Newton’). Where echoes sleep in deepest forest shade, Where legend says the chieftain slew his bride, And airy phantoms float from side to side, The monarch of the mountain ranges made His home. In coat of sombre hue arrayed, With eyes of liquid, beauteous brown, and wide, He stood supreme, a king of power and pride. From beaten paths a sturdy hunter strayed Through silent, shadow-haunted, ancient wood; And near the lair he came. An antlered head Was raised, the air was sniffed, and then the sound Of heavy hoofs was heard. He stamped—he stood In stupid awe. A crash! The monster, dead, The hunter’s prize, lay weltering on the ground. FN his far western habitat, the Moose usually lives higher up the mountain-sides than either the Elk or the Deer, though onsome parts of the western slope of the Rockies S he is migratory, and changes his abode as the seasons change. In summer, he is found only in the little parks at the sources of creeks, as near the summits of the snow-clad ranges as he can find the peculiar foliage plants suited to his fastidious taste. He will seek the food he likes best, even at the risk of his life. Shy and wary as he is, he has been known to defy men and dogs in order to spend an hour on the borders of .a swamp where grew water-lilies and other herbs and plants on which he was wont to feed. On one occasion, a party of hay-makers were camped on a prairie, near a lake, high up in the Bitter Root Mount- ains, fourteen miles from the timber. A lone bull Moose was seen to pass near the workmen, and between the wagons and the kitchen tent. His trail was within thirty yards of the fire that blazed up and sent its curling smoke 2 (17) 18 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. heavenward, yet he passed slowly along, regardless of scents or noises. The mowers. were running with their clatter, and some of them were near enough to observe his movements plainly. At first, the ungainly beast was believed to be some prospector’s poor mule seeking water, and then returning, alone, to a probable owner, who was believed to be digging in the gulches above. Day after day the black object came down the mountain with stately tread, and with clock-like regularity. After a week, one of the boys chanced to be in camp while his companions toiled in the hay, and was aroused from his imagined illness by the approach of the Moose to the very camp. There were guns enough in the tent to resist a formidable Indian attack, if properly handled, but the surprised hay-pitcher rushed out with a pitchfork to battle with the Moose. The broad-antlered monarch, however, had no desire to cultivate the .acquaint- ance of the sick man, and, with the great speed of his swinging trot, passed on, never swerving from the well- worn trail that he had traveled, perhaps, for years. On returning to camp, I was slow to believe the invalid’s story; but he insisted, and reiterated, and I was at last con- vinced. The need of meat and the love of sport combined were sufficient to send me even in pursuit of a forlorn hope; so, exchanging the pitchfork for the rifle, I started toward the supposed feeding-ground of the great deer. It was in September, 1883. The season was dry, and in that country there were no swamps, even in the timber, on or near‘the summit of the range, as is usual at the head of water-courses; so I thought it not improbable that a Moose might seek the lake for a feeding-ground. I approached it cautiously, and began to skirt the bank, with eyes and ears strained for the faintest evidences of. game. After an hour of hard work, wading and creeping through willows, around and about the arms and sloughs which crept out here and there from the main body of the lake, I saw a dark object above the flags, or cat-tails, about four hundred yards away. I knew at once it was the game I was in search of; but it MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 19 was too far away for a sure shot, and how to get nearer—a little nearer, at least—was the puzzle I must solve. I had learned well the lesson of the cunning of the ani- mal I must outwit. Even if he had been bold on the trail, in his run of fourteen miles for a feed upon his favorite . lily-pads, he would now start at the snap of a twig, or the first breath of air that came to him from me, or even from the tracks I had left behind, and would soon put miles of prairie between himself and me. There was astretch of open deep water between my cover and the game. To pass that would be impossible, and to skirt the lake, through the wil- lows, offered the danger of a noisy course. I knew his quick ear would never fail to catch the least sound, so I went back to the. open, beyond the fringe of brush, and traveled a mile through them. Then I was compelled to guess, without guides, the location of the cluster of flags, in which I had last seen the Moose. I came up to the point, creeping like the Panther that seeks a vantage-ground from which to spring upon the Fawn, to the edge of the cat-tails. They were dense, and higher than my head. I proceeded, I thought, as noiselessly as the snow falls, and with more caution than I ever possessed before or since. I parted the yielding cover, and the open lake was revealed to me. I knew that was the spot, right before me, where the great brute was feeding when I last saw him.. Yes; the water was still muddy and disturbed where he had been wading; but the Moose was gone! He had stolen away silently, but swiftly and surely. Had there been in that spot any other living animal, my skill and determined effort would have surprised it; but the Moose had fairly outwitted me. Then, the next thought was that the great fleet creature would hie himself to yonder dense wood, whence he came two hours before. To do so, he must run over an open prairie fourteen miles wide, and could not avoid being seen, at least. ‘TI looked in vain, however, and satisfied myself that he had not yet left the willows and weeds that bordered the lake. 20 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. I summoned the boys from the prairie-grass meadow, -and they tried to drive him out for me; but all the noise and diligent search they and I made failed to rouse the Moose from his hastily chosen lair in or about the lake. He knew the situation, and was master. of it; he simply defied us. The noisy hay-pitchers returned to work, and I, jeered and ridiculed by them, walked sadly back to the tent, too much abashed to be able to convince them that I had really seen a Moose; yet the next day the same dark object passed the trail that threads the prairie from the mountain to the lake. I hastened to. the scene of my former disappointment, and walked upright to within forty yards of the Moose, as he stood crunching the root of a lily. I fired, and the plunging of that great beast in three feet of water was like the explosion of a submarine torpedo. He stopped after a few jumps, and stood broadside again. I fired again, when he pitched heavily forward, dead—shot through the heart—and floated out from shore, propelled by his insen- sible struggles. This Moose was about four years old. He was black and glossy on his sides, while his back was yet brown with coarse tatters of his last winter’s coat. His horns were clean, white, and new—ready for the warfare of the approaching mating-season. He was fat, and would have weighed, dressed, about seven hundred and fifty pounds. My companions now apologized for their skepticism of the day before, and congratulated me on my skill and good fortune. Some of them even went so far as to say that they. knew all the time the Moose was in there, for I never made a mistake in matters pertaining to game, but that they simply wanted to have some fun with me. Judge Caton, in his grand work, ‘‘The Antelope and Deer of America,” accurately describes this great mammal in these words: Largest of all the Deer family, and most ungainly in form. Head long and narrow; eyes small and sunken; nose long and flexible, and covered with hairs, except a spot between the nostrils; ears very long and coarse; antlers “SSOOW TINg (21) 22 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. large and spreading, broadly palmated with numerous sharp points; neck short and stout, and nearly horizontal, higher at the withers than at the hips. Body short and round. Legs long and stout, fore legs the longest. Accessory hoofs large and loosely attached. No metatarsal gland. Tarsal gland inside the hock present, but small, and covered with black reversed hair. Hair long, coarse, and rather brittle; longest about the neck; color variant from black to brown and yellowish gray. Antlers wanting on the female, which is smaller than the male, and lighter colored in winter. The venison of the Moose is good, winter or summer. It is coarse- grained—even more so than that of the Elk—but possesses a flavor peculiarly its own. I have heard it pro- nounced musky in flavor, but the friends of the animal— the men who love to hunt it in its forest home—do not . detect the musk. When, in midwinter, the Deer are too poor to eat, the mountaineer goes in search of Moose, which, owing to their great size and strength, can procure their food despite the deep snows and blizzards. He knows that the flesh of the great ruminant is dark and uninviting to the eye, but sweet and juicy to the palate. The hump of the Buffalo is a delicacy widely celebrated among sportsmen. The Moose has a hump on his nose, and for a delicious morsel it excels any other meat dish I have ever had the pleasure of sampling. The Beaver’s tail has many admirers, and the nose of the Moose resembles it in some ways, but is far'better. I never knew any other ver- dict from those who had enjoyed a dinner with that best of game dishes as a meat course. | The Moose, the killing of which is described above, was devoted to the delectation of the deserving laborers in the hay-field, and was, without dissent, voted the best meat in the world. There is, however, I will admit, something in the air that surrounds a camp, far away from civilized homes, that fits the palate to the enjoyment of wild meat. This unaccountable peculiarity may be reason for the public to look upon the indorsements of sportsmen with a degree of allowance. The head of the Moose was cooked in the best style of the hunter’s art. It was coated with clay all over, by rub- bing the sticky, putty-like substance into the coarse, long MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 23 hair, till it was inclosed, completely, in a case of mud two inches thick. I might remark that it was not particularly well dressed, after the manner of modern civilized butchers, but was: coated’ and cooked with tongue intact. The pro- cess of removing the horns was an excuse for saving the brains as a separate dish for the complaining member of the company. You have all heard of the great dish of brains ‘provided from the Moose.. The writer who repeats that well-worn story never knew much, personally, about the Moose. He has either been deceived by the cook, and believed the ‘‘hump’’ was the brain, or he has written about that of which he saw nothing. The Moose has no more brains (ii quantity) than the beef steer, but with that sweet meat from the hump a quantity could be prepared that would make the uninitiated think the head, horns, and all were filled with brains. But to return. Our Moose-head was coated with clay. In the meantime, a hole was shoveled out, large as a pork- barrel, and was filled up with dry wood, which was made to burn like a furnace till the sides of the oven were almost white with heat. The head was dropped into the hole and covered with live coals of fire. Over all was thrown the loose dirt dug from the hole, and the Moose-head was left to roast till the next morning. We all retired, feeling like a child on Christmas eve who longs for the coming of Christmas morning. When that head was lifted to the temporary table, after ten hours of roasting, it was steaming hot, and the aroma made us ravenous as wolves. The clay was baked like a brick, and when cracked and torn off it removed the skin, and left the clean, white, sweet meat exposed. The flavor of the juicy hump of the Moose I could not describe, but it had enriched every part of our roast with its deliciousness, and few such’breakfasts have been eaten by hay-makers as we ate that morning. It is not the custom of the resident hunters, in the Rocky Mountain region, to preserve the skins of Moose they kill, for these are of but little value. They are not 24 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, materially different from those of the Elk—coarse and porous when dressed for leather. They are used by the Indians, however, for saddle-bags and for tents. They are heavy, and consequently regarded as worthless when the hunter has a long, rough journey before him. The antlers are heavy also, and even more cumbersome; but the average » hunter takes pride in the careful preservation of them. : The largest pair of antlers I ever saw was taken from: the head of a Moose that was killed in the Teton Basin, near the head of Snake River. When standing on the points, they encircled the tent door, and a man could walk under the arch by slightly stooping. They measured, from tip to tip, eight and one-half feet. The monarch which carried them was a grand specimen of the ruminant divis- ion of the animal kingdom. His weight was never known, but, as he lay on his brisket, his withers were higher than any horse in the outfit. An ordinary man could barely “‘chin’’ the Moose as he lay on the ground; as the horse- man would express that simplest way of taking a measure- ment. He was ‘‘ fifteen hands’’ high without his legs under him. In the fall of 1884, in company with.a hunting party of three gentlemen from an Eastern city, I shot and wounded a two-year-old cow Moose, in a small lake in the Cceur d’Alene Mountains. The ball passed through one shoul- der, and, of course, disabled her; but any man would have been foolhardy to have approached her. One of my companions had a well-trained dog, which was sent into the water to drive the Moose out of a clump of willows in which she concealed herself after being wounded. The dog swam to the little island, only to be driven back into the water. The enraged Moose followed, with lunges that were terrific. The dog was a strong swim- mer, but he could no more escape the mad Moose than if he had been chained. He was borne down, and would have been killed only for the depth of the water. As it was, he was well-nigh drowned, when a quick shot killed the cow, and thus made it possible for him to swim ashore. MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 25 The coat of this Moose was almost black. Along the back, however, was a brown tinge, where the coat had begun to fade from exposure to the weather. The Moose, in his best form, is black; but I have never found one over two years old which did not carry some faded tufts of his old coat till his new coat became rusty from wear. A hunter, whom I timidly dispute, not because I do not know him to be wrong, but because his records of hunting adventures are widely.read, tells of killing Moose with a hand-ax, after running them down in the deep snow. This may have been done in Maine or Canada, but if so, it proves to my mind that the Moose there do not possess the same wild, savage, pugnacious natures as those found in the Rocky Mountains, for surely no sane man would dare to attack one of our vicious mountain Moose, single- handed, with any weapon short of a repeating-rifle, and before doing that he should be sure that he can control his nerves perfectly in the face of danger. In one ‘instance, some men attacked one of our wild bulls without a rifle, but it cost two of them their lives. A few years ago, a party of river-men wounded a large Moose near the bank of Clear Water River, in Idaho, and it took to the water. The eager, but unskilled, hunters rushed upon the wounded animal with a bateau. It was a large boat, and was manned by six strong and fearless men. They were either without a gun in the boat, or scorned to use one, but determined to kill the Moose with axes, cant-hooks, and other woodsman’s implements. They bore down by the side of the swimming Moose, which was kept in the cur- rent by walls of rocks, and dealt him a blow. This inter- ference made him more desperate, and he turned to fight. The men were brave, ina bateau that would stem the rapids of Clear Water River with a cargo of three tons aboard; so they rushed to the battle with shouts of defiance. The Moose struck the boat with his antlers, and raised it clear out of the water, turning it upside down so quickly that the men were all frightened and stunned, and two of them were either killed or drowned. The other four were 26 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. rescued by their companions on shore, after the Moose had been shot several times. These incidents convince me that a man can not successfully battle with a Western Moose hand to hand—at least, not in the water. The question of the best rifle to use in hunting Moose can not be settled to the satisfaction of all hunters by any one writer, for there is a great diversity of opinion on the subject of guns. There are, however, some essential re- quirements that may be stated in general terms. The rifle, to give satisfaction to the Moose-hunter, or any other hunter of large game, must be accurate, effective, and capable of rapid manipulation. Hunters of long experience shoot mechanically, and not with conscious deliberation. For such marksmen no gun is like the old gun, worn and rusty from faithful service. Tosuch veterans I raise my hat, but offer no advice. Their success makes: them honorary sports- men in every society, and also makes their word law with amateurs. There is, however, one maxim that no thinking man will dispute, and that is, that the new guns are better than the old ones, simply because modern rifle- makers have profited by- the experience of their predeces- sors. The improvements in rifles in the past few years, have been the greatest success of the scientific world. It is unnecessary to note here the steps in the evolution from the old flint-lock to the perfect repeater of to-day. This has all been gone over in other works. Being called upon to choose the best gun for Moose-hunting, my vote would be cast for the new Colt’s Lightning Repeater, forty cal- iber, using sixty grains of powder and two hundred and sixty grains of lead, twenty-eight-inch barrel, ten pounds weight, and carrying ten shots. This gun I unhesitatingly pronounce the most perfect in balance, the safest from premature explosions, capable of the most rapid work, and the least apt to fail to fire when subjected to the test of heat and to the manipulations of unsteady hands. The arrangements for working the gun with the left hand, while the right hand and right shoulder support it, almost without disturbing the aim, is the most important advan- MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 27 tage this gun has over any others that I have seen. It enables the operator to shoot more rapidly, when accuracy is considered, than the common lever-actions do. With any of the new repeating-rifles, however, all that is needed to do good work is good judgment, a good eye, and a steady nerve. I do not believe in the heavy guns of large caliber. Even fora Grizzly Bear, I would use no larger than a forty caliber. This, however, is a disputed point. Men with more experience than I have had use the larger rifles. It is generally admitted that the best place to shoot any big game is through the shoulders. The Buffalo-hunt- ers discovered long ago that those large animals were most certainly secured by firing at their strong and bulky shoulders. With the Moose this is surely the best policy. Their Shoulders are massive and their chests are very deep, so that there is danger of shooting too high. The advice of the most successful hunters, with whom I have associated, is to shoot low, and well forward. A bullet through the lungs is nearly as effective as one through the heart. This rule should govern in shooting Deer, Bears, and all other large game. In the winter of 1884, I established a camp in the Teton Basin, at that time an unsettled region. The high, tim- bered Teton Range of mountains was, and is yet, well stocked with game, and the wild meadows of the basin afforded then, but. not now, excellent winter range for Moose, Elk, and Deer. In the fall, the Deer came to the low-lands with the first snow; the Elk followed them‘as soon as the depth was increased to two feet or more; and then the Moose would come when the crust formed on the snow in the mountains. The Moose is as thoroughly at home in soft snow as he is in the water; but when the heavy crusts form, he retreats, and seeks more favorable feeding-grounds. My cabin was the first landmark of civilization in that now thickly settled valley. We had killed Deer, in season, till we were sup- plied with meat to last all winter. Then came the Elk, and 28 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. they were so tempting that we were moved to go in search of the first that appeared. We killed two of the choicest to be found. This meat, too, we placed in our larder, for the sake of variety. A month later, Moose were reported, by one of the trap- pers, to be plentiful half a mile up the creek. The story he told of the great, shaggy beasts filled us with the spirit of the chase. We must havea Moose’s nose. No other article of diet that we could think of possessed such charm for our party, just then, as the Moose’s nose; and a Moose’s nose we must have. The snow was only about a foot deep, so we tramped out along the trails, in the old-fashioned way, for a still-hunt. To our surprise, we found the game very plentiful, and as tame, almost, as domestic cattle. They evidently had taken possession of the winter range that had been theirs exclusively for ages, and Seemed undisturbed by intrusion. . The first Moose encountered was a cow. She wore a - shaggy, faded coat and a sickly look, so we did not kill her. She moved lifelessly, like a poor domestic cow. She moped about, and secluded herself in the willows where she had been browsing. We consulted, and decided that she must be sick; but imagine our surprise when the next one, a bull, was discovered trying to conceal himself in a clump of willows. , We were all so near together that each waited for the other to propose the manner of attack; so one of the boys, being inexperienced and noted for his bad marksman- ship, was detailed to shoot the poor old bull, some of- the more generous sportsmen declaring themselves too kind- hearted to shoot a sick animal. At the crack of the boy’s rifle, the great, rough-coated mountain-monarch reeled and, with a groan that was half a cry of agony, fell heavily to the ground. He was found to be in fine condition for the winter season. ‘We feasted on hump, and discussed the peculiar action of the game we saw that day, until far into the night; they were so different from the sly animals we had hurted in MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 29 other seasons, and amid different surroundings. We after- ward noted, however, that the Moose, when driven from his timbered mountain home to the valleys, where he remained a few weeks, seemed to leave his shyness behind. This characteristic has been noted several times since. There were forty Moose counted near our cabin that winter. On one occasion, a bull Moose passed through Rexburg, Idaho, a town of considerable size. He went on through Elgin and other thickly settled neighborhoods. He was followed by more than one hundred men, and killed without more than the tronble necessary to butcher a beef steer. My conclusions are, from these seemingly-contradictory traits of this animal, that he loses, to a great degree, the sense of fear upon changing from the familiar haunts, where he passes the greater part of his life, in the solitude of the forest, to the scenes so different in the valleys, where the marches of hunger enforce a temporary sojourn. During the winter that I was the only householder in the Teton Basin, the Moose became so familiar with the surroundings that they passed around the house at night so closely that we could hear them tramping in the snow, and their fresh tracks were seen every morning within easy gunshot range of the house. They became so tame that the trappers often encountered them in their morning rounds, and they made no effort to escape. They were feeding on the dry grass and willows along the little river. They would wade in the water where it splashed over the rocks and did not freeze, in search of the sprigs of green water-plants and strings of moss that trailed in the water below the submerged rocks. The Moose would wade about when the cold wind blew, and icicles would hang from their coarse, long hair in great white spears. It is the delight of the Moose to paddle in the water even in winter. ; One of our trappers, while time rested heavily on his hands, in our camp on the Teton River, decided to try to catch a Moose ina snare. He provided himself with a one and a quarter inch manilla rope, and selected a trail a 30 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. hundred yards from the house as the place to make the experiment. The rope was securely fastened to a cotton- wood tree, and the noose was hung from small willows, directly over the well-tramped trail, at such a height as to allow the Moose to pass his head through and at the same time to carry the lower part of the noose forward above his knees till it caught him securely around the neck. The first night rewarded the lucky trapper, inasmuch as the success of his scheme was demonstrated. His work was well done, buf the game was too strong for the trap. The rope, which would have held the strongest team of horses, on a dead pull, was snapped by the Moose, and the fright- ened beast ran over hills and plains, dragging the rope after him. The mark it made was seen up and down the valley, wherever the trappers went, for a month... The Moose, in his rounds of feeding, dragged the long rope through the water -and through the snow in turns, till it became a rope of ice that made a track in the snow as if he were dragging a log. It must have been a great burden for the Moose to pull around, yet all winter the track was seen, where it crossed and recrossed the Teton Basin. How the poor.brute ever got — rid of his trade-mark, or whether he is still wearing it, no one knows. It was a new rope, and would last him for years if not unloaded by some lucky chance. The Clear Water River has its source in the heavy forests of the Bitter Root Range of mountains, and its many trib- utaries drain the best feeding-grounds for the Moose to be found in any part of our country. The gold-hunters, in their excursions, pass through the silent wilderness, but they go and come without disturbing the game. So rugged are the rocky cafions of these mountains that hunters sel- dom penetrate to the region of the lakes along the summit, and the Moose breed there year after year in comparative safety. From these game-preserves the Moose never migrate in winter in herds, as they do from the more bar- ren regions farther south. There are no little valleys to invite settlement high up in the Bitter Root Range, so the encroachments are not so destructive to the game in these MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 31 northern ranges as they are near the National Park and in ‘the fertile valleys of the Snake River. It is upon the trib- utaries of Clear Water River that the sportsman, ten years hence, may expect to find Moose in numbers that will insure good sport to reward endurance and patience. Any man who can lay claim to the name of sportsman can reasona- bly expect to find a Moose in two or three days of still hunting in the Clear Water region, either now or ten years from this date. The Moose supply in that wilderness will be practically inexhaustible—as much so, at least, as in the forests of Maine. “The best season for Moose-hunting in the mountains of the Far West is October and November. The first snow- . fall, on the mountains, may be expected in November, and if the hunter is not discouraged by the hardships sure to come with the first storms of winter, he would do well to take advantage of that season, as that, too, is about the time the bulls go forth to battle for the favors of the females. This is the season in which the native hunters, in the north- eastern woods, are said to use the birch-bark horn with such terrible results to the unsuspecting game. The horn has. never been used in the Rocky Mountains, to my knowledge, and I have never heard any such noise here as is attributed to the Moose in the woods of Maine and Canada. The cow Moose, I have reason to believe, never utters a cry of any kind, here, and the bull of our region simply whistles, like the Elk and Deer. I have often heard them make their challenges and utter their calls, but it was simply a whistle, such as a boy might make by blowing between his fingers, though coarser, and not prolonged or repeated. My first experience with the call of the Moose was on the Upper Clear Water River, ten years ago. I was in camp in the dense cedar forests of that great wilderness, and was not expecting to see large game. I thought the whistle which echoed from the cafion, a quarter of a mile away, was the challenge of a black-tailed buck, and I went out to meet him with an antiquated Henry rifle of the lightly charged pattern. The gun was old, as well as lightly 32 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. charged, and was kept coated with dust and rough with rust by the owner, who did not know that better guns had been made in later times. I went forth to secure venison, uncertain as I was of the accuracy of the sights, as well as of the powers of the rifle’s execution, and, half in a spirit of experiment, blew upon my hands as I had learned to do when a boy, after I had failed to locate the game just where I expected to find it. To my surprise, I heard the crackling of the brush within gunshot, the animal that caused it coming nearer. “*T will kill the Deer,’’ I thought, and was soon in position, with the approaches well guarded. Sure enough, a dark form passed in view, but it was too large’and too dark for a Deer. ‘‘It is a mule,” I thought; ‘but no! his gleaming antlers appeared in full view. I knew the stranger then, but was undetermined what todo. It was folly to shoot so far at a Moose with that little old pop-gun, so I waited. The Moose came blindly on, sniffing the air and beating the brush with his wide- spread antlers, as if enraged and ready for battle. He came within thirty yards, standing with his great, bulky form above a log which lay between us. He’‘stood stock-still, as if listening, and I feared he would hear my ‘ heart beat; but I controlled myself, drew a steady bead with the coarse sight on the butt of his ear, and fired. The bullet penetrated his brain; he a like a beef, and was dead when I reached him. This Moose came at the call, but " believe he would have come at any other signal just as promptly. In fact, I have since heard of a bull Moose approaching camp apparently in response to the bray of a mule. These beasts are full of fight when they are on these excursions, and they would almost fight a buzz-saw if it came in their way. I offer these suggestions in explanation of the success attending the use of the birch-bark horn. The Moose approaches the source of the noise in a fit of rage at the intrusion, not knowing or caring what or who it is, and not because he is deceived, nor yet: because the noise of the horn is an imitation of the Moose language. MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 33 The cow Moose does not grow bold like the bull who is so ready to battle for her in the fall of the year. Further- more, it is only during one short month that the antlered monarch of the woods is brave to defend his mate. After the rutting-season he abandons the cows, and, in company with other bulls as sullen and ungainly as himself, retires to the most secluded lairs, and there skulks in cowardice —afraid of his own shadow. All winter long the bulls are found in pairs or in herds, with no cows or young about. They remain separated till the calves are well grown and are able to run from danger by the side of the mother. While the young are small, they do not depend upon flight to escape an enemy. They are effectively guarded from beasts of prey by the mother. She will drive Wolves, Bears, and Mountain Lions in disorder from the field. When a man approaches the secluded bedding-ground, the mother silently steals away. She leaves the helpless young to hide in the ferns or chaparral; and well it hides, too. At the signal of the departing mother Moose, who caresses it with her nose, and may be breathes her ‘‘God bless you ’’ in its ear, the little creature becomes, in looks,.a part of its surroundings, and the hunter might step over it as a life- less, moss-covered stone or piece of wood. In 1885, I spent the month of June on the St. Joseph River, in the Coeur d’ Alene Mountains, and I had there an experience with a young Moose which might be of interest to sportsmen. It is a beautiful country for a hunter to spend the summer in. There are great forests, dark and cool with shade; there are lakes and streams alive with mountain trout; and there are Deer, Bears, Elk, and Moose in numbers to make glad the heart of the most sordid plodder. An English gentleman, with enthusiasm and cash, filled me with the desire to find a Moose in the velvet and’ in the gloss of a summer coat. We procured a camp outfit, and sought the head-waters of the little St. Joseph River. There we found a great park of giant pines, the ground beneath all carpeted with soft ferns and velvety moss. The : 3 34 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. sun had no power to darken the pale-green ferns, and the wind never blew to tangle the slender fronds. The moist © ground was untracked, except by the cautious feet of the wild creatures of the woods, and all was silent, as if no echoes slumbered in those bowers. We spread our camp on the soft, sweet floor of the green-canopied and tree- studded home of the gods, and rested. Rich was the peace © of solitude for a night. In the morning we were longing for adventure, like rest- less spirits in a new world, and went forth commissioned to explore and to conquer the denizens of that Arcadian-like land of summer loveliness. We tramped far, far through an outstretched, unchanged expanse of forest, without sat- isfactory results as to the finding of big game. There were dozens of that species of grouse known as the fool hen, with its staring red eyes and stupid habit of sitting like a bronze image on limbs and logs, even within reach of our hands. There were other wonders for the appreciative Englishman to admire, but he was determined to see a live Moose in its native haunts, and nothing less would satisfy his longing. Finally, when he was separated from me about a quarter of a mile, I heard his deep voice in tones of agitation. I hastened to his aid, and found him standing with gun presented, a model for an artist, demanding an answer to his unintelligible ‘‘ What is it?’? He was pointing into a tangle of ferns near his feet, that was as dense as the rank clover in a rich meadow. I, as with an echo, answered, ‘‘ What is it?’’ when by his side I saw a crouching little animal, with glossy brown coat, lying low-and still as a frightened fawn. We could not at first determine what it was, but its innocent eyes stayed our hands before we pulled the trigger. No, we could not shoot the crouching, beautiful creature. ‘‘Ah,”’ said the athletic foreign sportsman, ‘‘I will capture the bloody thing!” and handing his rifle to me, he sprang upon it like a lion upon alamb. A cry went up and echoed through the trees, plaintive, like the voice of MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 35 a child in distress. It was not coarse, like the bleat of a calf, but seemed to have a softer and more pathetic tone, suggestive of humanity. Its struggles were vain in the arms of its captor. It was being subdued rapidly, when a rush was heard, and the mother Moose appeared with a fury that made us sick at heart. The mad beast was sur- prised, however, at the manner of foe she encountered, and she stopped in trembling doubt before rushing to battle in defense of her pleading offspring. In self-defense, I shot the old Moose dead in her tracks, and felt guilty as of a crime a moment later. We retained the calf captive. Our pet was brown in color, with a tinge of rust along the back and down half- way on thesides. The parts of the body less exposed to the weather were nearly black, and reflected a silky glossiness. The color, asa whole, was not pleasing. Like all the other Moose I have seen, it had the dingy look of a partly faded coat. It was as large as a month-old calf. Its head was large, and had the appearance of being too heavy for its long neck; and its nose had a well-developed, ungainly lump. Its head and ears were decidedly mulish in appearance. Its legs, especially the hind legs, were long, and did duty with a drag of tardiness; but the hind legs seemed to furnish nearly all the motive power. It would stand sometimes on its hind legs, like a Kangaroo, and look about, and bleat in that pitiful, half-human tone, which often caused us to regret that we had not left it with its mother. It was restless, and seemed to be untamable. We detained it by building a pen so designed as to guard against injury to its tender body, but it literally ‘‘ beat against the bars’’ every moment of its captivity. We hastened out of the mountains with it to a ranch, and pro- cured milk for it. There we arranged a good stable, and gave it tender care; but it kept up its fretting ways. It would walk from one end of its stall to the other continu- ally, never resting and never sleeping, to our knowledge. At each end of the inclosure it would rise up on its hind legs and bleat, and then turn about to repeat the same dis- 36 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. tressing action and pitiful cry at the other extremity of its prison. It lived two weeks, and died of a broken ‘heart. The sorrowing Englishman gave it a burial in a pretty, shady place, such as he thought it longed for in life. Near the northern boundary of Idaho is what is known as the Lake Region. Within a radius of seven miles may be seen fourteen beautiful tarns, every one. the reserve source of a rushing, mad, mountain river, which has a deep, rocky cahon for a bed, leading ultimately to the same destina- tion—to the great wide and winding Columbia, that redeems a broad desert and finds rest in the sea. Near these lakes is a wilderness that gives the Moose the solitude and shelter he loves, and fine groves of deciduous trees to feed upon, when water-plants are locked in winter’s keeping. The Moose in the Lake Region of Idaho do not seek the valleys in winter. Here, as in Canada, they form yards, ° and beat down the snow in the quaking aspen groves. They have never been hunted there in winter, to my knowledge, the Indians preferring to subsist on the meat of the Elk and Deer, which are found not so remote from their valley homes. The Indian is not an epicure. He enjoys most the food that is easiest to secure. Any flesh is meat for an Indian’s larder, the only fear he feels being that he may not get enough of it. In the winter of 1885, I crossed a mountain divide, from a mining-camp near Coeur d’Alene Lake, in search of a Moose. I went alone, as no other idle man in camp was willing to climb a mountain, on snow-shoes, that would require a circuitous run of seven miles to gain the sum- mit The snow was only about fifteen inches deep, and the mild weather warranted the belief that a Moose would be fat and the best of fresh meat. In fact, like other lovers of the chase, I was prolific of arguments that con- vinced me that I'should go a-hunting; and a-hunting I did go. When, after five hours of hard labor, I gained the bleak summit, a cutting wind cooled my enthusiasm. I shuddered at the horrors of a winter blizzard nine thousand MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 37 feet above the sea. I could now turn one way and reach the camp again in an hour, or I could turn the other, face the gale, and probably find a Moose. I decided to continue the hunt. The high mountain where I stood was without timber, but on the little plateau a mile away was a dense growth of willows and small quaking aspen trees. It was an ideal wintering-ground for a Moose. I could risk a run of a mile or two, even in a blizzard; so I took a cautious turn through the wind-tossed and sighing, leafless little trees. One mile, then two, were covered, and no game to encourage me; but just as I passed the point I had fixed for the place to tur back, I found a Moose-trail. Of course, I knew the next depression and the next clump of bushes was the hiding-place of the game; so I sped on and on. At last routed a lone Moose, and the direction he took was favorable to my early return to camp should I choose to abandon the chase. After a turn over the bleak divide, I saw the animal going on that deceptive swinging trot, but he was making for the low land and the river. There was a favorable incline for a snow-shoe run that no horse could equal for speed. I was confident that I could run near enough to shoot the Moose, even if the snow was not deep enough to interfere with his Maud S. gait. I was successful in cutting off his course toward the woods and in turning him down the hill. I nerved myself for a terrific run, and determined, if possible, to approach near enough to shoot the big brute while at full speed. The mark was large, and I was armed with a good repeating-rifle. In ten seconds I could shoot four or five bullets into vital parts of such a large animal. I made the run, with the wind against me,.and after the greatest effort came up to the side of the frightened Moose, but, to my great consternation, found that I could not shoot. I could not even let goof my pole, for I was unable to stand, so the Moose gained the valley, and before I could steady myself to shoot he was far out of range. I do not believe a horse could have run as fast as that Moose ran across that valley to the timber along the river. : 38 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. I was too tired to return to camp that night, and fortune favored me to the extent that I was given shelter by a kind- hearted Indian. I was fed on smoked fish and smoked venison, and slept in a bed of smoked skins; but fatigue and hunger give flavor to food, and make even an Indian’s bunk a soft and sweet bed. On Christmas-day, 1883, and during the following week, I had some thrilling experiences with Moose in the deep snow on the mountains at the head of Warm River, one of the tributaries of the Snake, in Idaho. I had established a winter camp in that isolated but picturesque mountain region. The snow was four feet deep on Christmas-day, and soft and level as the grass in a meadow. Our meat-supply was reduced to a limited quan- tity of strong bacon, and that was incentive sufficient to hasten my movements to secure some fresh and choice roasts suited to the tastes of a hunter. Only a’man accus- - tomed to the snow-shoe would undertake an excursion over mountains and cafions with four feet of soft snow on the ground; but, with the experience of the mountaineer, no better conditions could be desired when Elk or Moose are the game to be hunted. I was out early, even in that hour when trees and rocks snap the most with frost and the full moon is palest and looks the coldest, just before the ‘‘sun-dogs”’ appear in the east. COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 519 run it toitsdeath. After a few moments of slow trailing among the red willows and small swamp ash-brush, he led off into the old woods, making things fairly jingle in his course. _After trailing some three-quarters of a mile, I heard him change his tune into baying. Knowing he had treed, I hastened on, and 7 found him baying - at the root of a tall, red elm-tree, up which the ’Coon had gone and en- tered a hole formed by the top being broken off. I could not cut this tree without felling it across a wire fence, over which it leaned. Like the old man who found the rude boy steal- ing his apples, I said, ‘‘If I can't get you, old sinner, by felling the tree, Vl just try a plan on you, some time dur- ing the day, that no doubt will elevate you out of your cozy den.’’ Sol returned to the house, ate my breakfast, and went about my work until the afternoon, when I got an old half-pint flask, filled it with gunpowder, took about one foot of tape fuse, put one end into the bottle and fast- ened it tight. I then got some matches, and a strip of old cotton rags to tie to the other end of the fuse, so as to make a slow match, thus giving me time after lighting it Blown Out, . 520 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. to descend from the tree. I took my rifle, called old ‘‘ Boag,’ also a full-grown young pointer that was as plucky as a Wildcat in a tussle with a’Coon, and put out to try what virtue there was in gunpowder. Arriving at the tree, I got things in readiness. A good many small branches grew from the trunk near the ground, and were distributed from thence to the top, making the tree easy to climb. I climbed up the tree to a height of about fifty- feet, and within ten feet of the top, where I came to a hole that woodpeckers had dug out and that reached into the hollow. Through this hole I could see the old cuss coiled up just a little below, inside. The hole was hardly large enough to admit the bottle of powder, so I took my pocket-knife and enlarged it so that I could pass the bottle in. This the old >Coon didn’t like at all, and resented the intrusion by sav- age growls. He made several attempts to snap my fingers while I was at work. ‘‘But never mind, old boy; Pll give you something to chew on directly.” ; I struck a match, set the cotton rags on fire, coiled the fuse around the flask, dumped the-infernal machine in on top of the ’Coon, and then made haste to get down the tree; for I wouldn’t have been up there when the mine exploded for all the "Coons in Old Town woods. Some fifteen minutes after reaching the ground, I heard the fuse begin to sputter, and also heard the ’Coon scram- bling up the hollow—concluding, no doubt, that a bumble- bee had gotten into his bed; when presently—‘‘ Whang !”’ went the powder, like the roar of an old army-musket fired into a large barrel. A dense column of smoke, rotten wood, and other débris flew from the top of the hollow, and in the midst of it, out popped the old plantigrade, with a tremendous leap clear from the tree, coming down and striking the ground like a bag full of wind, but apparently none the worse from the effects of the powder, save that the wool on his rump was somewhat scorched. The Pointer bounced him as soon as he struck the ground. The ’Coon was as large-framed as 7?COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 521 any I have ever seen, and gave both dogs a lively fight for several minutes before he was overcome. They finally laid him out, however; and when I took him to the house, my wife said she knew, from his full stomach and his sneaking look, that he was outside of her pet turkey. FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. By Dr. M. G. Evuzey. HERE are, in America, two modes of hunting the Fox; one with hounds and horse, the other with hound and a gun, after the manner of driving Deer. With the latter of these methods, the writer has no acquaintance. It prevails at the North, in country impracticable for the chase as practiced at the South, and is said by those devoted to it to be very exciting and enjoy- able sport. They desire a slow hound, which is a good trailer, that they may stand at a likely place, along the run, and shoot the Fox as he ambles along in front of the hound. The sale of the pelt is the ultimate object, the apparent raison d’ etre of the sport. Leaving the descrip- tion of this method to those who are familiar with its enjoy- ments, I proceed to attempt a description of the Fox-chase as I have known and enjoyed it in Old Virginia, where a pack of hounds is used to kill the Fox, or run him to earth. The chase here is similar to the English hunt in its main features, though differing in details, so far as it is ren- dered necessary by the nature of the country, the habits of the people, and especially by the differences between their Foxes and ours. I am persuaded that the American Red Fox, as found in the States of Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee, is an animal far superior to the English Fox, in speed, endurance, cunning, and resource, when in front of a dangerous pack. He laughs an inferior pack to scorn. I will preface the proposed account of the sport by a brief sketch of the Fox. We have about half a dozen sorts of this animal, including the varieties of the far North. Authors divide them up for classification and nomenclature (528 ) §24 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. as Sam Weller gave the orthography of his name, ‘‘ accord- ing to the taste and fancy of the speller.’ ‘‘ For my part,” observes Mr. Weller, ‘‘I spells it with a we.”’ The Fox is mutually fertile with the Wolf and domestic dog, which seems to be true of all existing canine species; whether the cross-bred offspring presents the character of mongrels, or of fertile hybrids, has not been determined. Not even, as a rule, have naturalists, all run to morpholog- ical views as they are, clearly recognized these differences; for the greatest naturalists have confounded atavic varia- tion with the reversion of hybrids to a parent form. Leav- _ ing this question of specific distinctions as we find it, the sportsman’s distinction between -our Foxes is, broadly, into red and gray. The cross-Fox is merely a Red Fox thus marked; the kit-Fox, a dwarfish individual. The Gray Fox, treated by some naturalists as being a mere color variety, has habits entirely different from the Red, in almost all possible respects. So far as my personal observations inform me, the following are some of the prin- cipal distinctions: First, as to reproduction, the Red Fox nearly always brings forth its young in an earth den; the Gray Fox, generally in a hollow log or tree, or, at most, under a rock. The last one I found with her young was aGray. The young, only a few hours old, were in the hol- low stump of an old rotten tree, broken off about five feet high. As I came up, the old one jumped out of the top of the stump and ran off. I looked down the hole, and saw, at the bottom, five young ones, scarcely dry. I have sel- dom seen a Gray with more than five, and often with only four young. I never found a Red with less than five. I have seen one with nine, and several with seven. I think it certain, therefore, that the Reds are more prolific. Second, as to hunting for prey and subsistence: The Reds are bolder in pursuit, and hunt over a much greater territory than the Grays. Whether the Grays ever climb trees in pursuit of prey, Iam uncertain; but they take toa tree as readily as a cat when hard run by hounds. I think it nearly certain that they climb for persimmons, grapes, FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 525 and berries. Red Foxes never climb trees under any cir- cumstances; when hard-run, they go to earth. Gray Foxes run before hounds only a short distance, doubling constantly, and for a short time, when they either hole in a tree or climb one. I have known the Red Fox to run straight away nearly twenty miles. Very commonly, they run eight or ten miles away, and then run back in a par- allel course. I have known them to run the four sides of a quadrilateral, nine or ten miles long by about two miles broad. It is doubtful whether a first-rate specimen of a Red Fox, taken at his best in point of condition, can either be killed or run to earth by any pack of hounds living, such are his matchless speed and endurance. It is but a sorry pack which fails to kill or tree a Gray Fox in an hour’s run. : The young of the Gray Fox closely resemble small, blackish puppies; those of the Red Fox are distinctly vul- pine in physiognomy when only a few hours old. The above are striking varietal distinctions; character- istics of less significance are often given much higher value by capable naturalists. Yet; from such information as I possess, I am of opinion that all living, and most likely all extinct Canide, constitute a single physiological group, mutually fertile, and their cross-bred offspring fertile inter sé. This group is at present broken up into many good and distinct morphological species. I think the above facts clearly show that the Red Fox differs from the Gray in many important particulars, and that they are in error who seem to regard the two as mere color varieties—the dis- tinctive marks being graded away and disappearing when large series of individuals are compared. Any Fox-hunter, not a greenhorn, can tell whether it be a Red or a Gray Fox in front of his pack on the darkest night, as readily as if the animal were in plain view; and yet the color varia- tion of red and gray may bring the two sorts nearly ‘together in extreme specimens in a series. I think that, in this manner, a comparison of series of kins may lead the best naturalist to erroneous conclusions. In this case, 526 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. we may safely conclude that some Red Foxes are colored much like Gray Foxes, and that some Gray Foxes are col- ored much like Red Foxes; but if we go further, and con- clude that in all other respects the two sorts are one sort, we fall headlong into an error as groundless as absurd—an error which a pack of hounds will soon demonstrate, and at which anyone in the least degree experienced as a Fox- hunter will laugh. In this place, it is proposed to offer a few thoughts and suggestions as to the true position of Fox-hunting among the manly and athletic sports of the field. The proposition is boldly advanced that no other riding-school in the world can compare ‘with the hunting-field in the production of the highest type of horseback-riding—bringing into full play, as it does, all the nerve, strength, skill, and judgment of the rider. Often, in a moment, some great difficulty presents itself, immediately in front of him, to surmount which requires a great feat of horsemanship. It must be surmounted, or he will simply be left. Is it a thing simply not to be gotten over? Then, being in nowise a fool, the great’ horseman will draw rein, and see how best to get around it, even though that implies not even being within hearing at the kill. Is it a vigorous difficulty, surmount- able by good horsemanship, or only by great horsemanship? Then the bold horseman summons all his own faculties, rouses all the resources of his steed, and goes over it in grand style, as if he had never recognized jts presence. Courage, good sense, decision, presence of mind—these are the qualities brought out by this grand sport. Such qualities must be possessed by the horse no less than by his rider; otherwise the greatest horseman will be paralyzed in the presence of such a difficulty, if mounted on a duffer, or a lunk-headed fool and coward of a horse. Now, a second proposition is boldly advanced. The first place, therefore, among all manly sports of the field, must be awarded to riding to hounds. We advance immediately to a third and final proposition, viz.: The manliest of manly sports should be the recognized national sport of the FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 527 greatest, the most enlightened, and the most progressive nation of the modern world, to wit, the United States of America. No argument need be advanced in support of such a proposition; the truth of it appears to be self-evi- dent upon the mere statement of the case. I take it no well-informed person will question the national value and importance of the preservation, the extension, and the development of superior horsemanship as a national characteristic of our people. This will carry with it the preservation, the development, the improvement of that fountain-source of all excellence and greatness in horse-flesh, that is to say, the English race-horse. If we are to have Fox-hunting as our national sport, we must have an American-bred hunting-horse. No horse can be bred fit to ride to hounds without large recourse to the blood of the race-horse. No horseman will deny that. It has been said by one of the greatest of English writ- ers on the horse, that the very best hunters in England were very nearly, though not quite, thorough-bred. This is equally true of the greatest of American trotters. The two-minute trotter will be common enough after awhile, and will be nearly, but not quite, thorough-bred. It will be, practically, the race-horse slightly modified in breeding, handled, trained, and selected for a different way of going. This statement is liable to paralyze certain people with astonishment, not unmingled with scorn. Nevertheless, what is writ is writ. The hunting-horse fit for the American Fox-chase will have to: be nearly, though not quite, thorough-bred, but not a trotting-horse. Rather a running and jumping horse, bred, selected (for temper, especially), handled, and trained for the ~ hunting-field—not a race-horse, bred, selected, trained, and handled for the turf. Doubtless a skilled horseman, versed in the science of heredity, and himself a practiced rider to hounds, may select as the foundation of a breeding-stud strictly thorough-bred horses, and produce from them unequaled hunters. We are not to believe there is anything lacking to the blood of the thorough-bred 528 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. : disabling it, when pure, from producing hunters of the very highest attainable excellence. If such horses as Sir Archy and his great son, Timoleon, or Black Maria, had been trained for the hunting-field, they could have carried a rider six feet two inches, weighing two hundred and twenty-five pounds, a distance in advance of any field of hunting-bred horses ever mounted. Or, take such an animal as American Eclipse, or Revenue, or Planet, for riders, say from five feet ten inches to six feet, and from one hundred and sixty to one hundred and eighty pounds; or, fancy old Ariel, the fairy queen of the running-turf, carrying a high-spirited lady rider. We may fancy a high- bred maiden, in the first bloom of her beauty, riding through a dashing chase at the head of a gallant field of hunters. Cold runs the blood in his veins whose whole being does not dilate with the thought. I admit that my own heart bounds with the conception. I confess that I have, for some years, felt that there must be some sustaining demand to back up the breed of race- horses, outside of the current demand for fast mile-horses for the gambling needs of the racing-turf. Are the great old four-milers, along with the great race of men who pro- duced them, gone without return? I have an opinion that a horse may be produced, phenomenally fast for a mile and phenomenally unfit for every useful common purpose, whether he be trotted or run. If the breed of race-horses deteriorates, everything lower in the scale of horse-flesh will correspondingly go down. Does anyone believe that any fountain of excellence can be led higher and maintained at a level above its source? Believe it not! If Fox-hunting be established as our national sport, there will arise a demand for hunting-horses, for ladies and gentlemen, which can not at first be met. It will of course ultimately be met. No demand can be made upon the cre- ative genius of the American people which can not be met in due time. In the earlier stages of that demand, the breeders who have the knowledge, the skill, and the means combined to produce first-class hunters, for ladies and gen- FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 529 +) tlemen, will be able to sell them for ‘‘ big money.’’ To go further with the technical description of the hunting-horse, in this place, would lead out of bounds. We must turn our attention to the pack, and then to the hunt. Less than three couples of hounds can scarcely be called a pack. Some persons fancy odd numbers, and would prefer a pack of thirteen hounds to one of fourteen or of twelve. More than thirteen hounds are, in my judgment, too many to run well together, or to be kept well in hand. I have seen thirty couples in a chase, but not more than nine of the best hounds did the real running. A gentleman of moderate means will find that six or seven hounds, well trained and kept, will afford better sport than will a greater number than can be well used. One of the most beautiful and exciting chases I remem- ber ever to have witnessed, was made by a couple of black- and-tan spayed bitches. Inarun of about forty minutes, they killed.a fine Red Fox, which for three miles was not over five to fifteen feet in front of them; nor was there for that distance, at any time, three lengths between the bitches. This pair—little sisters -owned by my father, were certainly the fastest pair of hounds he ever owned in forty years’ devotion to hounds and to Fox-hunting. Running with the pack, they always led, frequently running neck-and- neck thirty or forty yards in advance. of the pack. They were named Juno and Vanity, and each of them was known, in several instances, to start, run, and kill a fine Red Fox alone. It may be said, then, that a single hound may catch a Fox; a pair of hounds, if of the very best breeding and training, may afford good sport; that six or seven make a nice pack; and that the best number is thirteen. These, three neighboring gentlemen may own and keep between ‘them, when they will do quite as well, or even better, than when all kept in one kennel. Spayed bitches are to be highly recommended, if spayed when not more than two to six weeks old, which is the best time, for they do not exhibit the tendency to become fat and lazy which results 34 530 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. from the operation at an age subsequent to sexual develop- ment. They are as fast as the best dogs; their scenting powers are equal to any; their sagacity in managing the working of a Fox in all its details can not be surpassed; © they are easier to break and train; they are quiet about home, and seldom go off, on their own hook, to observe the country and make mental notes of the grazing-fields of a neighbor’s sheep. It is certain they are far less prone to ~ mischief than dogs. In the matter of tongue, they gener- ally incline to treble, and their notes are often of a flute- like sweetness. In the matter of endurance, they are not surpassed. These observations are the results of personal knowledge based on a wide experience. The color of hounds is a matter of taste. I have known - great Fox-dogs of almost every variety of color. The best I ever knew were black-and-tans; the handsomest and deepest-mouthed were hounds of the old blue-mottled breed from the famous Crawford pack of Maryland. I should say color is a matter of taste, music a matter of science in selection, speed a thing to be tested, and it, as well as endurance, belongs to particular strains. If you want to breed a litter of Red Fox hounds, you will have to breed the fastest bitch to be had to the fastest dog. You can do it successfully in that way, and in no other. There are few strains of hounds, perhaps, now living, which are at all reliable to kill a Red Fox. I do not believe that any dogs bred, owned, trained, and run in Eng- land can kill our Red Foxes. It is not by resort to importations, therefore, that Red Fox dogs are to be had here. They must be bred from the few American strains which have demonstrated their ability to kill American Red Foxes. This is no random, unsupported notion. I have seen many imported dogs run, and never saw one capable of staying with our own best packs. No doubt this declaration will bring loud jeers from some people. Very well, let them jeer; I have no objection to that sort of thing. In this matter, I feel that I know what Iam talking about. In the matter of size, English FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 581 hounds are too large for the country we hunt. It is beyond doubt true that medium-sized hounds are best for our work. They should not be above fifty pounds in weight. Some years ago, I knew an imported pack which I think would -have averaged eighty pounds, and they could not stay with a native pack of small hounds of only moderate excellence. The kennel discipline of hounds should be simple, and all the accommodations inexpensive. When not in the kennel, they ought to be coupled together, in pairs, by an iron rod about a foot long, with a ring in each end, through which passes a leather collar to be buckled around the neck. My father’s kennel was simply a big, square-built log house, with a dirt floor, on which clean bedding was kept. During the ‘hunting-season, the dogs were kept altogether in this house. Out of season, they were coupled, and went in and out at pleasure. They were called to be fed with the horn, and always worked with the same horn for everything they were required to do. They were fed, inexpensively, on coarse corn-meal, with the husks left in, and baked in large pones. They also had scraps from the tables, and sour milk, buttermilk, and bonny-clabber from the dairy. A case of disease or sickness among them is a thing which, during thirty years, I can scarcely remember. Probably an average of twenty were kept; sometimes the number ran up to thirty; sometimes there were not more than thirteen in the kennel. The entire success of these simple kennel arrangements, during so many years, seems to entitle such a method to great confidence. My father, who was doubtless the most enthusiastic and successful Fox-hunter of his time, in Virginia, pursued, also, in break- ing his young hounds, a method perfectly simple. _When- ever he went’ out on horseback, which was well-nigh every day of his life, up to within a week of his death, he took the young hounds with him, and so accustomed them to obedience and a love of companionship with himself; and when they were to be taught to run the Red Fox, he took them out with a few of the best Fox-hounds he had, and let them run. They soon learned all there is for a 582 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. hound to know; and, be it known to the inexperienced, there are few more sagacious animals than the Fox-hound. I myself doubt whether any other dog, except: the Collie, ‘has equal capacity to acquire a knowledge of his work as the Fox-hound, if not spoiled by ignorant or incompetent handlers. There is left for description the hunt itself. The crowd which goes out with the hounds in a genuine English hunt is apt to be distasteful to our best Fox-hunters. Their idea of genuine sport is, for half a dozen real friends to meet. quietly, and have the chase to themselves. If, however, a neighbor or two joins in uninvited, they are not unwelcome; and if the chase goes through a farm, and all hands leave work and run for a hill-top, mount the fence, get up a-tree, or scramble to the top of the straw-rick, to see as much of the chase as may be, the hunters take real pleasure in adding a pleasant episode to the sameness of the simple lives of country work-people. What is meant is, that the bustle and display of an English meet is not in accordance with the tastes of our country gentlemen; not that they are at all selfish or exclusive in the enjoyment of their sport. In the case of wealthy clubs of city people, a different feel- ing prevails. Generally they are more after display than sport. An anise-bag, ora dead Fox, or some other drag, suits them equally as well as, or even better than a genuine hunt. Enough has already been said of the hunting-horse; we may, however, re-affiirm that there neither is, nor can be, any real sport in a Fox-hunt for any person poorly mounted. A horse not sufficiently well-bred can not carry arider through a severe chase with either comfort or safety. It is a genuine misery to ride a jaded horse; and, moreover, unless ridden with great caution, the rider’s neck is not safe; and consciousness of the unfit condition of the horse is fatal to that.enthusiasm and élan which are the life and soul of everything deserving the name of sport. Therefore, the first thing essential to the enjoyment of Fox-hunting is a well-bred, sound, safe horse. The best horses are about FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 533 fifteen and one-half hands high, and weigh about eleven hundred. pounds. It is much more difficult to find a large horse, sixteen hands or upward, of that high form which is essential to carrying a rider, at speed, safely over difficult country. A man who has sense enough to value his own neck, must ignore the fashionable taste in choosing a horse to hunt on; and if not himself a skilled judge of the points of a horse, he should take the advice of a man who is, and upon whose impartial friendship he can rely. There are ten good medium-sized horses to one good large horse; hence it is far easier.to mount a man of medium size than one above medium height and weight. A small man is unsuita- bly mounted ona large horse; a large man, more unsuitably mounted on a small horse. Our best hunters do not jump their horses over every- , thing they can find to put them at; often they hunt a great part of a season, or a whole season, without taking a single considerable leap. It is not practicable to follow the hounds as seems to be done in England; for, in the first place, our Foxes, in almost every case, take such a course that no __ horse can possibly go overit. They take to the bluff, along ~ water-courses, and through pine-thickets, that no man can ride a horse over or through at speed. The hunter must, in such a case, perforce make a detour and strike for the open ground, where he may again join the chase. No sensible man goes Fox-hunting for the mere sake of leaping his horse over fences and ravines; he goes over such places when the exigencies of the chase render it necessary. He does not leap his horse over a stone wall if there is an open gate three rods out of his line, unless he is riding -for ‘the brush, close to the hounds in the act of running into the Fox. A good hunter rides fearlessly when he has a rational object in view, and always judiciously, reserving his own powers and those of his horse to be put to the test when necessary. He takes no stock in the absurd cavort- ings of the riding academy. It is also true that cur Red Foxes run farther and faster than any horse whatever can 584 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. follow them, over their own course. The best horses, in’ the best condition, carrying light weight, over our finest race-tracks, can scarcely maintain their rate through four miles. A Red Fox, in front of a dangerous pack, scarcely gets down to business in less than three times that distance. I have seen a chase in which the Fox’s course was twenty miles, the running being desperate from start to finish. I was never out of hearing, and much of the time in full view of the chase; but I did not ride more than two-thirds as far as the pack ran. At this point, I can not forbear to turn aside to comment briefly on the remarks upon the speed and endurance of our Red Foxes, by a distinguished scholar. In a costly and pretentious work on natural history, he says: “It runs with ~ great swiftness for about a hundred yards, but is easily over- taken by a Wolf, or a mounted man.’’ Even great authors must slip sometimes, but probably a more complete display of ignorance was never made by a competent writer than in the above brief sentence. I doubt if any creature lacking wings is fully equal to the American Red Fox in speed and endurance combined. I have seen him, when at his best, outfoot and run away from as fine a pack of hounds as ever was seen, and also leave out of hearing a whole field of sportsmen, not one of whom was meanly mounted. I know but little, practically, of Wolves, but I do know some- thing of mounted men, and I doubt whether the finest rider in the world, mounted on the finest horse in the world, can easily overtake an American Red Fox, or overtake him at all, or in a race of twenty miles keep within four miles of him. I have seen the thing tried many and many a time, by many distinguished riders finely mounted; I have tried it myself often—but never yet saw a race between a mounted man and a Red Fox in which the Fox was easily outrun. The best season for hunting the Fox is, with us, in the months of October, November, and December, or as late in winter as the weather may be open and the ground not frozen. Some persons hunt in the spring months, until the vegetation is too far advanced to permit either hearing, FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 5385 seeing, or riding well, and with pleasure and safety. Some have a run any day in the year they may have a mind to do it. Fox-hunting is for pleasure, for health, and for the acquirement of skill on horseback, and it ought not to be pursued under circumstances dangerous to the health of the hunter, nor cruel to his horse or hound; as when the weather is severe and the ground icy, or softand miry. The best weather is a temperature of about 60° Fahrenheit, and a relative humidity of about 75°, clear, and without wind beyond a moderate breeze. This will be an atmosphere sufficiently moist for good scent and not too cool for the rapid movements of the chase, which greatly increases evap- oration, both from the pulmonary and cutaneous surfaces, which of course implies rapid loss of animal heat; and a great strain is thereby thrown upon both the great organs of circulation and respiration, in man and beast. Therefore it is that dry, cool wind makes the very worst hunting-weather, and therefore it is that horses have com- monly made their greatest records on the turf on very hot days. Observations made by the writer on temperature and relative humidity, in connection with the air-supply of the Hall of Representatives at Washington, led him to the conclusion that a temperature of 60° Fahrenheit, and a relative humidity of 75°, gives us our most delightful vernal and autumnal weather, and those conditions are recom- mended as constituting nearly the optimum of hunting- weather. In such weather, Foxes lie much in the open fields, or on the border of some glade or open woodland. We often ousted them from such spots, before Setters and Pointers, when out shooting on such autumn days. In describing the modus operandi of the hunt, I will - detail our own usual practice; not that it is the best prac- tice, but-it is the result of long experience, and has been found satisfactory in the region where we were accustomed to hunt. It is by no means necessary to get up shortly after midnight, and hastily swallow a cold, uncomfortable break- fast; to be in the saddle and unkennel the hounds while it is yet dark. It is better to eat a comfortable early breakfast, 536 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. have the hounds fed lightly on stale bread, and to be in the saddle a little before sunrise. The horses should have, the night before, a good feed of oats and only a little hay, and in the morning, an hour before the start, a moderate feed of oats. When brought out, they should have a dozen or so swallows of water. | The hounds should be kept well in to heel until the place for making the cast-off is reached. They should be handled, as far as possible, by one person, and one person should have general direction of the hunt. When the start is made, the Fox lays out the course, and, in racing parlance; cuts out the running. The hunt will, in a good degree, take shape at its own wild will. Often a crisis will arrive when everything is at sea, every man is for himself, and the cry is, ‘‘ Devil take the hindmost,’’? whether that hindmost be Fox, hound, horse, or huntsman. Neverthe- less, an experienced Fox-hunter never quite. loses his head, and acts always with care and judgment. I will now attempt a description of one of the greatest races in which I can remember to have been a participant. A few brief notes as to the scene of the hunt ‘will facilitate an understanding of the narrative. The residence of my father, in the old commonwealth of Virginia, was situated centrally in the grand old county of Loudoun, about two miles from Goose Creek, the beautiful Indian name of which was To-hong-ga-roo-ta, and about the same distance from Aldie Gap, in the Bull Run spur of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was about eight miles from our home east- ward to the mouth of the creek, where its waters are emp- _ tied into the Potomac, at the upper end of Selden’s Island. In this part of its course the creek is a bold and rapid stream, from seventy-five to one hundred yards wide. Its banks in places are long, level bottoms; in other places rising into precipitous bluffs and rugged cliffs, covered with hemlocks and dense ivy-thickets. In the fields, thickets, strips of woodland, and glades bordering this creek, it was always an easy matter to start FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 587 a Red Fox. I have never heard of a Gray Fox being seen there, although in the King country, seven or eight miles to the southeast, Grays are numerous. In front of us, to the north, was the creek; west of us three miles, the mountains. Eastward four or five miles, running north and south, was a low line of hills called the Old Ridge, covered with black-jack and broom-sedge; and in many parts lay huge boulders, and more or less extensive tracts of loose magnesian shale, seamed and scarred all over with galls, washes, and gulleys. In places, these hills were densely covered with scrub-pine and tangled masses of green-brier, hawthorn, and grape-vines. Behind us, to the south, extended an open country, from the foot of Bull Run Mountain eastward, some ten miles, to Broad Run, a considerable tributary of the Potomac. Our Foxes usually ran a quadrilateral, going up the creek west to Negro Mountain, a low, brushy range of hills extending from Bull Run Range; along Negro Mountain from two to five miles southward; thence eastward to Broad Run, and thence northward along the Old Ridge to the éreek, and up the creek to Negro Mountain. My father’s estate extended northward to the creek, and eastward down the creek several miles, occupying a central position in the quadrilateral described, the circuit of which was about twenty miles as the Foxes ran it. Foxes started in front of us, almost invariably ran down the creek to the Old Ridge, ‘southward along the Old Ridge to Broad Run, up that run and across the open country to Negro Mount- ain, northward along Negro Mountain to the creek, and again down the creek. In what we called the mill-dam field, a splendid old Red dog-Fox had taken up his quarters, and my father, some- times alone, sometimes in company with some friends, with select hounds from their packs, had run him around the quadrilateral divers times without being able to do any- thing with him other than to put him in perfect training; and it began to be thought that no pack could either kill him or run him to earth. 538 BIG GAME OF -NORTH AMERICA. My father himself doubted whether this Fox was not superior to any pack in the world. However, he deter- mined to try a final conclusion with him, and, with this end in view, took measures to get nine of his best hounds in the highest attainable condition. He had in his pack, at that time, a strain of black-and-tan hounds which he had owned and bred for thirty years, and which his father had long owned before him. At this time, there were in the pack, besides the brood bitch and four or five dogs. of that strain, the two spayed bitches already mentioned, named Vanity and Juno, which were undoubtedly the best pair of hounds which the strain, great as it was, ever pro- duced. Of course, these great bitches were first choice for this race. They were backed by two dogs of the same strain, but not full brothers in blood, called Leader and Rogue. The next selections were blue-mottled hounds from the Crawford strain of Maryland; three dogs, Drum- mer, Farmer, and Trump, and a spayed bitch, Countess. In addition to these, a lemon-and-white hound of great excel- lence, called Frowner, was putin. My father believed that, these were, in all points, as good Fox-hounds as were ever seen, and he thought the great sisters, Juno and Vanity, the very best he had ever seen run. Our friends were notified that all was ready for the race the next day, and that the meet, for those who did not breakfast with us, would be at the upper end of the mill- dam field, within a few minutes after sunrise. ' My father and I saw personally to the feeding and bed- ding of the hounds, and each of us to his own horse. We went early to bed, after a light supper, and so slept well all night. At early dawn we were up, and quickly dressed. in hunting-clothes, and out to attend to matters at the ken- nels and stables; for our experience had taught us that such details must have our personal attention. By the time these matters were settled, some of our neighbors arrived, and brought several additional couples of hounds. Breakfast was a simple affair. As soon as dispatched, we mounted and rode to the meeting-place, FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 539 arriving there three or four minutes before the sun rose. We found most of those expected already at the spot, and the others arrived almost simultaneously with our party. After brief and simple morning salutations, and a couple of minutes’ chat, my father announced all ready, and the hounds were cast off. In less than three minutes, Drummer challenged, and the whole pack (fifteen in all) closed in and took the trail. In about two minutes, and before we had advanced three hundred yards into the field, the invincible old Red rose over the rag-weed, and took a deliberate view of the forces advancing against him. ‘‘Tally-ho!”’ rang out ‘in chorus from the horsemen, and the pack burst into full cry, as the gallant quarry bounded away on the race for his life, with not more than one hundred yards start of the hounds. The Fox made direct for the upper end of the cliffs, where a man and horse could not pass between the rocks and the water, and where, for half a mile down-stream, the running would be over rocks and through dense timber. As the course to reach this point was up-stream, whether the Fox would make a short turn, and adopt the usual tac- tics of breaking away down-stream, we could not know. . If we rode to the edge of the cliffs, and the chase turned down-stream, we should gain nothing; for half a mile below, a rocky ravine, impassable by horses, made up from the creek, about three hundred yards, to a spring in the field. We therefore held our position for a moment, to await developments. The wily Fox, fully realizing the importance of increasing his lead by taking advantage of the rough ground, turned short down-stream at the head of the cliffs, as was instantly detected by the practiced ears of my father and his friend, Mr. Edward Jenkins, who was as great a man at all points afield as ever bestrode a horse. _At this point, the echoing music of the pack was splendid beyond description, and seemed equally inspiring to horse- man and to horse. My father gave the word, and we bounded away at speed for the spring at the head of the ravine, expecting the chase to continue its sweep around 540 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. the horseshoe curve of the creek. If so, position at the spring, being on the chord of the arc when we should arrive at that point, would give us a view of the race for about a mile, when we could join in the chase as it turned into the long stretch of bottom-lands at the lower end of the mill-dam field. When we reached a point within one hundred yards of the spring, the roar of the mill-dam, mingling with the thunderous echoes of the pack behind the cliffs, was like the peal of a great organ along the aisles of some vast cathedral. The splendor of the early morning scene may be imagined, but it can not be adequately described. My - father reined in to a full stop, and called out: “‘Gentlemen, they are coming up the ravine to the spring. Hold in, or.we shall ride over the hounds;’’ and immediately shouted ‘‘Tally-ho!’’ pointing to a spot near the head of the ravine, where Reynard appeared for an instant, and then disappeared in the bushes... It was obvi- ous he had not increased his lead by many yards, as the tremendous cry distinctly showed the hounds were already coming well up the ravine; and my father’s marvelous ear must have detected the turn at the very instant it was made. The Fox had now cleared the head of the ravine,” and broke away across the open field toward the Broad Rock, in a southeasterly course, toward the far side of the quadrilateral, leaving the water-course entirely. “Did you ever see so bold a rascal?’’ said Mr. Jenkins. _ “Aye,’’ responded my father. ‘I do not understand him, but that is a fatal mistake. Nothing can save his brush to-day but a decree of fate.”’ The pack by this time had cleared the ravine; the Fox had two hundred yards start, and a mile and a half across the old field to reach cover. Vanity leading, Juno at her flank, the rest closed up; the pace was so tremendous that some of us thought we should run into him before he struck Broad. Rock. ‘‘Hark! away!’ shouted my father, touching old Alice gently with the spur; and away we went. The first fence TALLY-HO FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 541 was three hundred yards away, a trifling affair, and over it Reynard led like a bird on the wing. Like screaming eagles swooping on their prey, followed the fiercely clamorous pack. Pell-mell the horsemen pressed upon their heels; and over we went. | Here followed a run perhaps never surpassed in the hunting-field. Gallantly did Reynard maintain his lead; gallantly followed the flying pack, and gallantly the hore: men rode. As the last quarter of the stretch was reached, Vanity showed three lengths in front of Juno, who just maintained her place at the head of the pack, and, as it were, by inches she began to close the gap between her- self and Reynard’s brush, which was still flaunting defi- antly in the breeze. She had crawled up to within forty yards of him, with several hundred yet to run before the Broad Rock was gained. She was now twenty yards ahead of the pack, Juno just clear of the bunch. The horsemen were well closed up to within from fifty to one hundred yards of the pack. In nearly this position, this splendid panorama closed by Reynard leaping both fences of the highway and sweeping directly across the face of the Broad Rock, gaining cover at the head of a bad rocky ravine lead- ing to the banks of Beaver Dam Creek, about two miles above its mouth, where it falls into Goose Creek. Going over the fence, the horsemen gathered in the road at the Broad Rock, and there was a pause, while the chase developed its future course. My father and his friend sat side by side on their horses, following the pack by the. sonorous music of their furious cry, and gazing intently -into the woods toward the run. “They are going up Beaver Dam,” said Mr. Jenkins. “‘ Aye,” said my father, turning old Alice’s head down the public road; and remarking, ‘‘ We can get in at Mount. Hope,” he jogged off, so as to keep nearly abreast of the chase as it rushed roaring along the meanderings of the rock-bound stream. The object of my horsemanship was to keep as near as I could to my father’s side, his friend, Mr. Jenkins, riding 542 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. always with him, followed by his son William, nearly my age; so that this latter young gentleman and myself fell into a natural companionship. The other gentlemen rode to suit themselves, but recognized my father’s leader- ship of the hunt, as a matter of course. My mount was a beautiful, thorough-bred, bay filly, coming’ five years old, which was my saddle-mare for many years. She was a delightful goer and jumper, and safe even for alady. Old Alice was a mare of extraordinary power and speed, seven- eighths bred; a daughter of Grigsby’s Potomac, her dam a daughter of that good horse Hyder Ali. I still own some of the descendants of that great mare. She was killed by lightning, with a splendid foal at her side, when twenty years old-—long after this memorable chase. The Jenkinses were well mounted on horses that had outlasted many and many a hard day’s run, and the other gentlemen of the hunt were all well mounted. As the cry came abreast of us, some three hundred yards to the left, we again gave our horses rein, and were going at full speed along the road, having the short lines on the pack; but their pace was tremendous. Coming up on the hill above the ford of Beaver Dam, we paused again for the chase to develop; but only for a moment, when Reynard bounded clear into the middle of the road on the far side of the stream, and broke away down the road right through the village of Mount Hope, and leading the pack three hundred yards. We held our positions until the hounds had passed. They came with incredible speed, considering the ground, Vanity leading easily, and went down the road at a terrible pace. As soon as the hounds had cleared the fence, my father rode forward, followed by the hunters, all closed up, and we were soon going again at speed. The race led along the road about a mile, when Reynard took to some rocky woodland on the right, and it seemed he might break away for Negro Mountain. Hesitating a moment as to our ‘course, ‘‘Tally-ho!’’ from the venerable huntsman, Mr. John Macamblin, who had reinforced the pack with a A FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 5438 couple of blue-mottled hounds of the Crawford strain, and we knew that the Fox was coming back to the road. He would surely cross it near our position, and break away to Broad Run, over ground favorable to him, and returning . - by the Old Ridge route to Goose Creek, would now give us a tedious run of an hour or more, with many losses by the hounds, and we should have to make the finish going up the creek-bottom again. Horsemen could not follow closely over this course. Therefore, guided by my father, who knew every foot of the ground, we kept as well in hearing as we might, and saved our horses as we could, for the final conclusion going up the creek-bottom. Over this part of the course, we however had full enjoyment of the bracing air of the glorious autumn day and the superb melody of the hounds; now near, now far, echoing and reéchoing among the rocky glens, and through the dim aisles of the weird old forest, for many a mile. So at length we rode out into an open field on the sum- mit of the Old Ridge, half a mile from the creek, at a place known as Powers’ Hill, whence is a prospect hardly sur- passed by any inland scene within my knowledge. Here we sat upon our horses, enjoying the magnificent prospect, listening to the distant pack, whose course my father knew as well as if the running had been in full view all the way. ‘* Where will we get in the race again, ’Squire?’’ asked Mr. Macamblin. ‘* Right here, sir,’’ said my father. ‘“Yes,’’ said Mr. Jenkins; ‘‘and we shall not be waiting ten minutes.”’ ‘“‘They are crossing Moran’s Bottom now,’’ said Mr. Swartz, one of our party, distinguished as one of the finest riders in the State. ‘‘Yes,’”? said my father; ‘‘and the cry is very keen. I know they are pressing him hard; we will see the position of things as they pass here. I think he will die near the starting-point; he will never go to earth, and he can’t live it out before that pack to-day.”’ 544 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. “Tally-ho!”’ from the keen-eyed Jenkins, and Reynard hove in view, coming over the fence at the far side of the field in which we were, and making almost direct for our position. Not a hundred yards behind came Vanity, fol- lowed quickly by Juno and several Crawford hounds, with Rogue and Frowner; the rest strung out a little, but com- ing well along. It was obvious that the Fox knew that he must do his best, or die; his manner and aspect showed as much. He had now-run, almost without a break or pause, fully twenty miles, and there were six miles before him before he could gain the friendly cover of Negro Mountain. Once there, he would be safe; but could he get there? My father said not, in his opinion, and so we all believed; for the next six miles was wholly favorable to the dogs. It however abounded with earths, and as Swartz put it: ‘‘T’m afraid he’ll den under some of those cliffs, and we can’t get him out.’” ‘“‘T think not,”’ said my father; ‘‘but he may.” On we sped for awhile, beyond the mouth of Beaver Dam, from whence Broad Rock was once more in view, half a mile to the left; but the chase was now up the creek-bot- toms, clinging to the meanderings of the stream. Passing round infront of the pack, along the arc of the horseshoe curve, we had a straight mile stretch. ‘*T want to see them across this bottom,”’ said my father, “and then I think I can tell how it will be for a cer- tainty.” ‘‘Tally-ho-ooo!”’? from several horsemen, and Reynard swung around the bend before us, a hundred yards off, fol- lowed now within sixty yards by the pack, well closed up; and as they broke from cover and caught sight, a grand chorus saluted our ears, which had in it the unmistakable . do or die. There was now before us a view-chase of nearly a mile, and we followed hard upon the hounds—the sight; the fury of the cry, carrying us almost beyond ourselves with an excitement which enthused, with one common im- pulse, rider, horse, and hounds, and must have carried terror to the heart of poor Reynard. — FORWARD ON! FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 545 It was a tremendous burst, and briefly over, when Rey- nard once more hid his brush in friendly cover, and swept into an alcove behind a cliff in the bend of the creek. Making a detour to the left, we encountered a stiff fence, at the border of the ravine, too dangerous to attempt; so, swinging some yards farther to the left, we struck into a farm-road, and took the bars, the most considerable leap of the hunt. Bounding toward thecreek at once, we met the chase at the head of the cliff; but there was no time for exchange of words. Getting over an easy fence, each horseman in his “own way, we reéntered the mill-dam field along the water’s edge, riding with the pack at the heels of the Fox—Vanity nipping at his brush as he went over the fence, the others strung out a little; Juno a few feet in his rear, and Drum- mer running second. It was evident that this was the final rush; and seeing my father settle himself in the saddle, and turn the spur on Alice’s flank, I rode for all I was worth for my place at his ‘side, and in an instant I was at his stirrup. ‘*Hark!’’ he cried, as Vanity seized Reynard full in the back, and giving him a snatch, rolled over, and turned him backward. In an instant, poor Reynard was seized by Drummer, and in less than a twinkling of an eye, Juno had hold. My father, Mr. Jenkins, William, and I were in together at the death, and William, leaping from his horse, seized the Fox, and cutting away the hounds with his whip, held him up by the nape to the view of the admiring company—the largest and finest specimen of a Red Fox any of the party had ever seen. . '* My father awarded the brush to William Jenkins, and the great race was finished; every horseman and every hound being well closed up at the death. Mr. Macamblin said: ; ‘‘T am an old hunter. I have seen many hundreds of runs, in Ireland, in England, and in America. I think we have had to-day, in some respects, the grandest run I ever saw. I shall never see such another, I am sure. I ama 35 546 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. partisan of the Crawford strain; they are natives of my native country; they are great Fox-hounds, but Vanity and Juno are the greatest couple I ever saw run.”’ ‘“Yes,’? said Mr. Jenkins; ‘‘ there is not another such couple living, in my opinion. Through this great race of twenty-five miles, Vanity was never once headed, and never made a serious fault; and Juno was second until close to the finish, when her foot was badly cut.”’ ‘Well, Ned,” said my father,é‘I agree with you gen- tlemen. This black-and-tan strain is a great strain, and ‘these sisters are its greatest representatives; yet undoubt- edly the Crawford strain has also produced great hounds. I think Drummer, Tanner, and Countess nearly equal to any three I ever had in my pack.”’ “ ‘Squire,’ said Mr. Macamblin, “‘we are indebted to you fora great day's sport, and we are happy that not a single circumstance has. marred our pleasure in the smallest degree.” ‘‘ Well,” said my father, ‘‘I hope we may all live for many another successful meet. And, gentlemen, my house is nearest; [ insist that you shall all dine with me. Come!’’ And with a blast of his horn, the well-trained pack came to heel, and we jogged home to dine, and discuss the events of the day. Years have rolled away to join the past. Lately I had occasion to revisit the place of my birth, and riding alone, my road led through the village of Mount Hope. Not one of those who saw the great chase go through their quiet hamlet is living there now. Of those who followed the hounds that day, I only am left. Reaching the Broad. Rock, I reined up and paused a few moments, regarding the spot. I love to recall my father as he sat old Alice at that spot—a splendid type of physical manhood, six feet and an inch, broad-chested, square-shouldered, erect, weigh- ing about one hundred and eighty pounds; in the splen- did skill of his horsemanship, the peer of Turner Ashby; in the dignity of his bearing, of the Old Virginia type, of FOX-ILUNTING IN VIRGINIA. . B47 which Gen. Robert E. Lee was the modern exemplar. My eye followed my thoughts to the distant hill, where, tow- ering vast against the clear, blue sky, survivor of ten gen- erations of my ancestors buried at its feet, a gnarled and mighty oak points from the place of my father’s honored ashes to the rest of his noble soul. I rode slowly on. ‘* Tears, idle tears; I know not what they mean. Tears from the depths of some divine despair, Rose in the heart and gathered to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields And thinking of the days that are no more.” ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. By Cyrus W. ButieEr. questionable taste of being tempted by a serpent, we have had for that order of Reptilia so little —»”° interest, aside from fear and aversion, that this ‘dislike has not stopped with snakes, but has extended, in a modified degree, to the entire reptilian class. It is but natural, therefore, that of all classes of animal life, that of Reptilia should afford the least attraction to the sports- man; for, in addition to this aversion, you can neither shoot them on the wing nor angle for them with.a split bamboo; and, as a rule, its species are small, their capture void of pleasure, and they are worthless when caught. But, thanks to the molecule whose differentiation first started in its development the order Crocodilia, we have in the United States two species, the Crocodile and Alligator, whose size and ferocity are sufficient to interest the sports- man and furnish employment for his best rifle. The sight of the huge, glittering body, as it lies basking in the sun- shine, may well cause his heart to beat as hard and his breath to come as heavy as though a more beautiful and useful game animal lay before him. The American Crocodile occurs only in South Florida, and has never been taken in any great numbers. In the winter of 1888 and 1889, Dr. J. W. Velie, of the Chicago Academy of Sciences, secured twenty specimens on the southwest coast of the State, the largest of which was fifteen feet and six inches in length. The most distinguishing characteristic of this Crocodile, as compared with the Alligator, is that the end of the jaws are wider than they are farther back, so that a rope can be (549) ROM the day that Mother Eve was accused of the ~ 550 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. ‘tied around them without slipping off. The upper jaw is narrower than the lower, and the canines of. the latter extend through holes in the former, so that the ends of those teeth protrude above the upper jaw. However, as I know little of the Crocodile, I will say nothing more, but proceed with an intimate acquaintance, Alligator Missis- sippiensis, more commonly known as ‘‘’Gator.”’ As with all animal life, he begins as an egg, and like most reptiles, his external existence as such is in the form of a pretty, white, and hard-shelled egg, much harder than that of the domestic hen, about three inches in length, and one- half as wide. The nest is composed of vegetation and earth, piled a foet or two high and from four to five feet in diameter, in the center of which are laid, sometimes, as many as seventy-five eggs, which are covered with earth and hatched by the heat of the sun; the mother meantime carefully guards them from depredators. When hatched, the young are six or seven inches in length, and in spite of their reptilian characteristics, have a decidedly infantile appearance. In order to get a plentiful supply of tadpoles and small fish, and to escape their affec- tionate papas, who, it is said, love them, alas! only too well, the mother then takes them to some secluded nursery, perhaps a hole in a small creek, or a wet place in a swamp, where, if the water be low, she digs a hole, beneath the surface, into which she and her young may retire. What their period of growth or attainable age is, I do not know, but they sometimes reach a length of fifteen feet and a probable weight of four hundred pounds. With the appearance of the ’Gator, all are acquainted— his immensely elongated jaws, armed with a hundred teeth; long, dark, and knotty reptilian head; brown, cat-pupiled eyes, that in the heat of anger burn with such dark ferocity, and say, only too plainly, ‘‘No quarter here;’’ no external ear, but an aperture covered with a valve-like flap, to keep the water out; round neck; rather small and short legs; body swelling from just back of the fore legs to the center and then decreasing to the hinder legs; a heavily muscled ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 551 tail, as long as head and body combined. The whole body is covered with a tough skin, brownish-black above and white beneath, all creased with square-cornered checks beneath and on the tail and smaller irregular forms on the sides and legs. The entire upper surface is more or less covered with round plates of bone set on the skin, each plate having a median keel, that gives the animal’s back his rough appearance. The keels on the outer row of tail-plates are much higher than the rest, thus giving the outer sides sharp, high edges, which converge until they meet, back .of the center, to form the sharp upper edge of the tail, which is much flattened there. The Alligator is found as far north as Memphis, Tennes- see; is common in the Gulf States, but to-day is probably most abundant in Florida.. Where it is cold enough to freeze, he hibernates during the cold spell; but in South Florida he may be found wide-awake and enjoying life throughout the year. They feed on any animal life obtainable, from horseshoe crabs to dogs and pigs, and are commonly regarded as being fond of negro babies; but their most common diet is fish. Of thirty-six specimens—from six to eleven feet in length—whose stomachs J examined, twenty contained noth- ing but fishy-smelling water and oil, remnants of a few small minnows, and, in almost every case, one or two small sorts of an aquatic plant. Two had dined on a brace of wild ducks each, while the remaining fourteen were all killed at a time when the surface of the lake was strewn with dead fish; and each ’Gator had laid in a stock of provisions lim- ited only by his storage capacity. From the frequent occurrence of the aquatic roots in their stomachs, it appears that they are not entirely carnivorous. A ‘“‘Cracker’’ informs me that he planted a crop of cucum- bers near a pond, and that when the ‘‘cukes were big enough to pull, the ’Gators come up and cleaned out the hull crop.” It is evident that a square meal is an uncertain event, and doubtless weeks often elapse during which the Alligator “has little or nothing to eat. In confinement, they are said 552 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. to have lived six months without food. When prey is caught of sufficient size to offer resistance, the Alligator sets his jaws with a vise-like grip; then, by using his tail, rolls rapidly over and over until the prey is drowned, when, if it be too large to swallow whole, a mouthful is seized, and the rolling process repeated, until it is bitten and twisted off. In their common walk, the central surface just clears the ground, and the end of the tail drags so as to leave a sharp cut in the mud between the foot-prints. But, when necessary, the Alligator ‘ can arch his back, straighten his legs so as to raise his body some distance from the ground, and shuffle off at a surprising gait. As a rule, he seldom ‘ goes far from water, and when he does, it is in traveling from one body of water to another. If the water dries up, he selects the lowest place in the basin, and digs a hole, usually five or six feet deep, running back under some pro- tecting growth, whose roots keep the roof from falling in upon him. Here he lies and dreams the hours away, in a chronic state of mud-bath. The swimming is done entirely by the tail, the legs being laid back against the body; the powerful; flat-ended tail sweeps from side to side, just as a fish uses its tail, excepting that a ’Gator’s tail, being longer, has a more serpentine motion. As usually seen swimming, the upper half of the head is above water, and moving slowly along; but at times, - when startled from the shore, he will plunge quickly in, and swim off underneath the surface for a short distance, at the rate of six or seven miles an hour. As to his disposition, I am afraid that, aside from its most prominent features, it will remain to the human mind a sealed book; for however well we may understand him from our own stand-point, we are utterly at a loss to under- stand him from his, as outside of obedience to the two most prominent laws of life—-the preservation of the indi- vidual and the perpetuation of the species—he seems to take so little interest in existence that you can not help wondering what it may all mean to him. ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. * 553 Where the death-dealing hand of man has not set the seal of fear upon the ’Gator, you can approach, even in open water, to within afew yards of him without attract- ing any more attention than a wide-opened mouth and an aspirated hiss; but after a few days’ shooting, their noses, ears, and eyes all detect your presence, and their fast-disappearing forms suggest an unsuspected aptness in receiving object-lessons. On the whole, he is a sluggish, very sluggish, animal, not even being an active hunter; but loafs around in hope that something may turn up—that probably a fish may unwittingly swim near enough to be snapped up by a quick motion of his long jaws. But lazy and sluggish as he is, and cold as is his blood, there are times when it must course swiftly through his veins; for on a little island of muck, in the center of a pond, a female is heaping up a pile of saw-grass and dirt for a nest, while upon opposite sides of the pond, and just upon the edge of the saw-grass, eying her with warm glances of admiration, and each other with the sullen glare of hatred, lie two old males, whose scarred and bleeding bodies testify that even a’Gator’s cold blood is thicker than water. The smaller one moves painfully, for his right fore foot is missing— the larger one got his jaws upon it, a few rapid turns, and the foot was gone, probably soon buried in the stomach ‘of the victor. This loss of a foot in fighting is quite com- mon, for I have taken three thus maimed and heard of others. Again, they may fight for no apparent reason, as a reliable witness tells me of a severe and, on the part of both, voluntary fight between a large’Gator and a Shark of equal length, in which the former came off victor. While the ’Gator has been known to make an unpro- voked attack on a man, and while in isolated regions, when not acquainted with fire-arms, it would not be wise to vent- ure into water near large ones or the nests of females, still, as a rule, they are only too glad to make good their escape. To those who anticipate sport with the ’Gator, the ques- tion naturally arises as to what is the best fire-arm for the 554. BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. purpose. The idea seems prevalent that it requires an Express charge to get a bullet into his head. It is a mis- take. A thirty-two-caliber bullet, driven by a fair charge of powder, would, if it hit squarely, enter any ’Gator’s head, and, properly placed, would be as effective as a can- non-ball; while a charge of No. 6 shot, at thirty yards, would enter his side. Of course, Ido not mean to say that a thirty- two-caliber would be a desirable size, but only to make it understood that a large, eight-bore Express charge is wholly unnecessary. For all-around ’Gator-hunting, I would prefer a thirty-eight or forty caliber repeating- rifle, giving the flattest possible trajectory consistent with accuracy. These sizes are large enough, and in many cases a repeater will be found preferable to a single-shot; while the flat trajectory will be found especially desirable in making long shots over water, where the distance is diffi- cult to estimate with a sufficient degree of accuracy to put the ball into the small portion of the ’Gator’s head that is visible above the water-line. As for myself, I used a thirty-eight-caliber Winchester, model of ’73, on which I replaced the front sight with one made from a’Gator’s tooth, which reflected less light than the original metallic one, and filed the rear sight flat on top; then with a rough-edged case-knife I cut a fine groove in the center. Of all open sights, I like this best, as at a quick glance it gives the clearest idea of just how coarse or fine a sight you are drawing, and is especially advantageous in shooting in twilight. With this rifle so sighted, and reloading my own shells, I have killed from a Mov ing boat, at from forty to one hundred yards, eight swimming Gators in as many consecutive shots, hitting them all in the ear; but of course this was an exceptional run of luck, that I could never hope to duplicate. In shoot- ing any game, it is usually now or never. If the distance be great, it is necessary to estimate the same as the gun comes to the shoulder—and even with the most experi- enced, these estimates are often far from correct; and espe- cially over water is this the case. ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 555 When it came to shooting two hundred yards or over, unless the ’Gator would kindly wait for a second or third shot, he usually escaped, and this escape was most always due to under or over shooting; consequently the desirability of a flat trajectory. To be sure, three-fourths of the game, at least, killed in wooded countries is killed within one hundred yards; but the remaining one-fourth is of sufficient importance to justify special effort, first in securing the proper rifle, and second in diligent and careful target practice, until you can tell just where the ball is going to strike at a given distance. In wooded countries, you should carry the rifle sighted at suy one hundred vanis; then at fifty yards aim .a couple of inches under where you desire to hit; at two hundred yards, six inches above, etc. In a short time you will learn to estimate distances cor- rectly, and to hold over or under just enough to bag the game, in the majority of cases. ~ On the west coast of Florida, between Tampa Bay and the Gulf of Mexico, lies the little sub-peninsula of Pinellas, which runs out from the west coast much the same as the State does from the south coast of the United States, thus making a little sub-Florida, with all of her climatic peculiar- ities in a slightly intensified degree. Like its mother penin- sula from which it springs, Pinellas has its fair number of ponds, some creeks.and small lakes, all of which support their share of animal life; but in this respect Lago Magoire outranks all the rest, ton from microscopic crustaceans to fish, its shallow waters are unusually full of life. So richa part should have its guests, and so it has; for scattered over the suface of its waters, and upon the banks of Lago Magoire, lie-many ’ Gators. So much for our game and the arms to take him with; and now for a few hunts for him in Lago Magoire. It is often as desirable to know what not to do as to know what to do; so let us begin with my first ‘Gator. Looking across the smooth waters of the lake toward its palmetto-lined shore, we saw its surface broken by many a long, dark head and an occasional rough back, all lux- 556 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. uriating in the morning sunshine just reaching them over the tops of the tall pines and cabbage palmettos. Confi- dent of success, with so many in sight, we pulled for them in a boat; but, one by one, as we glided almost near enough, sunk slowly beneath the water, leaving but the vanish- ing ripple to mark the place where each went down. Finally, despairing of finding any asleep, blind, or absent- minded, I landed, leaving W—— and the ladies in the boat, fishing. After creeping through a hummock of live oak, cabbage palmetto, and undergrowth, I came to a more open growth of pines and saw-palmetto, where I could get a view of the lake; and on looking down the shore, saw, just off a point of land, a half-dozen suspicious-looking objects. Making a detour back from the shore, I crept through the palmettos toward the point. On arriving at the shore, and cautiously looking over my cover, I saw the heads of six of the great saurians, all within one hundred yards of where I stood. Having always heard that the eye is the proper place in which to shoot a’Gator, I picked out the largest, and aiming for his visual organ, fired, only to see him start off for deep water at a rapid rate. I kept on pumping balls from the Winchester until I had fired seven shots, when he halted, lashed the water with his tail, raised his head, shook it in a tragic way, and sunk. Having to give him up, I soon found others; and by repeating my stalking, got within fifty yards of two, who discovered me at the same moment, and made such haste to . leave as to forget to take their heads under water. At the first shot, the farther one sunk dead; at the second, the nearest one rolled over, raised one fore leg above the water, and waved it in a manner so suggestive of ‘‘ Good-bye, Brother Watkins,’ that I thought he too was dead. No boat being near, and fearing that he would soon sink, I con- cluded to wade in and float him ashore. As I intended to prepare his skin for mounting, I did not want to tear up his skull with any more bullets; so, leaving my rifle on the high ground, and cutting a green pine sapling, about three inches in diameter, to use in case of necessity, I waded con- ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 557 fidently toward his ’Gatorship, now lying toes up. When within a few yards of him, he suddenly began a series of revolutions that would have done credit to an acrobat, and as he turned the top of his head, displayed a hole as large as an orange, where the bullet had knocked out a bone. In his struggles, he came within reach of my club, when I dealt him a blow that I expected would finish him; but the green pine proved too springy to be effective, as it only called his attention to my presence, and, with a stroke of his tail, he shot toward me. -Not having time to retreat, or even toraise my club, I quickly stuck the end of it into the hole in his skull, and thus keeping him at a short distance, began backing toward shore. Time and again he freed himself from the end of my club, and each time advanced to the attack, but only to again realize the point of my protest in the sharp end of the sapling firmly inserted in his sore spot. Thus remonstrating, I finally reached shore, where I expected him to give up the attack; but no, his blood was up, and in spite of the blows that I rained upon him with the springy sapling, he followed me a couple of rods on land, when, by a quick grasp, he got my pole in his mouth, and by rolling rapidly over in the mud, twisted it from me. I soon regained it, however, and belabored him so severely thas he turned and ran to the water. Having begun to look upon his. skin as belonging to me, I did not like the pros- pect of losing it, and so grasping the end of his tail as he was entering the water, a struggle ensued that fanned me around pretty lively, and frequently landed me in the mud;¢ but he finally became exhausted, and taking advantage of a passive moment, I dragged him back, and beat him until he was stunned; then, turning him over, used a knife on him in a way that I thought would be effectual. After regaining my breath, I measured him, and found him to be eight feet in length. On returning to the boat, I saw W — fast asleep, with fishing-line in hand. In response to my excited calling, he jumped up, grasped the oars, and began making earnest 558 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. but awkward efforts to row, that resulted in no movement of the boat, but much merriment among the ladies. They laughed all the louder as W——’s awkward efforts grew more tragic, until, tired of the splashing that they were getting, they told him that it was customary to take up the anchor before rowing away. After reaching the Alligator, we found him again on his feet. He was again subjected to the killing process, and tied to the landing, where I found him the next day, not dead, but still able to walk. I have recounted this advent- ure, not in order to show how to kill an Alligator, but to illustrate his wonderful vitality and his tenacity of life; also to teach Northern sportsmen what course to shun. On reaching the place where I had killed the Alligator dead at the first shot, we fished him up, and found that I had hit him in the ear; and on dissecting his head, learned that the brain of a ten-foot Alligator is no larger than a man’s thumb; that owing to its small size and location, it is not to be reached from the eye unless the ball ranges backward and downward after striking; that some of the topmost bones of the skull could be removed without exposing the brain, and that the proper place to shoot a *Gator, when broadside to you, is in the ear, which, ina ten-foot animal, is about three inches back of the eye. Acting in accordance with the knowledge gained in dissect- ing that head, I have since shot over fifty Gators, from six to eleven feet in length, and seldom failed to kill them at the first shot. As a dead ’Gator is such an uncer- tain quantity, it is well to run the small blade of a pocket- knife down between the occiput and the first cervical vertebra, thus severing the spinal cord, which is the most effectual way of killing any animal. After treating them in this way, I have taken three ’Gators, weighing at least two hundred pounds each, into a skiff at one time. In regard to the different methods of approach, any experienced hunter would be able to choose the best on seeing the lay of the land. Shooting from the shore is usually most successful; but a boat should be handy, fora » ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 559 *Gator usually sinks as soon as killed, if his lungs are not filled with air, and in case they are so filled, it is likely to escape as soon as the animal is dead. ‘When not too wild, they can be approached in a boat even in plain sight; but this depends upon how much they have been shot at. Like all reptiles, they learn quickly, especially when taught in such impressive ways. On warm, sunshiny days, they are especially fond of basking on the bank; for even a ’Gator appreciates the hygienic value of a sun-bath. Taking advantage of a cer- tain morning when the wind was blowing parallel with the shore, rigging a skiff with oar-lock in the stern, wrap- ping the oar with cloth so as to make it noiseless, and tying it to the boat so that it could be dropped without losing, I stood, rifle in my right hand and oar in my left, only steering when the wind was in my favor, but sculling when necessary: Thus gliding noiselessly along the edge of the saw-grass, which in places was trampled down by Alligators into beds that grew more and more frequent as I progressed, I ‘‘kep’ an eye skun,’’ as the Cracker ex- presses it, for the long game. As I rounded a small point, I heard a splash, and caught sight of a huge serrated tail, as the fast-traveling waves reminded me that the eyes, ears, and nose of even a’ Gator are often too sensitive for us, and that their sluggish muscle is capable of rapid motion when necessary. Another and another plunge; but it would not pay to wait for them to come up, for it might not be for half an hour, and then they might be far out in the lake. As I rounded another point, straining every nerve of sight and hearing, whack! came a mullet against the boat .. with such force as to give me a nervous start; but the same noise gave something else a start, for first a rustling in the’ grass, and then a long, dark head appeared at the edge, and, unfortunately for its owner, cast his first glance down the lake, and before he could turn his head, a ball had crashed through it, and lodged under the tough skin on the opposite side. The shot aroused three more saurians, 560 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. the nearest of which fell an easy prey, and turned toes up, one foot moving to and fro in a dreamy sort of way. I soon sculled alongside of him, threw a noose around his neck, took a half-hitch around his jaws to keep them shut, drew his head over the stern of the boat, and with a small knife severed his spinal cord. He was not over eight feet in length, so I easily dragged him aboard. Returning to the first Gator, I got the rope around his neck and began pulling him up, when he began rolling, thus winding the rope around his body until my hands were brought against his rough back, when I had to let go, and he went down, and, as the rising bubbles plainly told, was crawling along the bottom. Picking up my striking-pole, to which was attached a lily-iron and long line, I followed the path of bubbles, and when over my game endeavored to plunge it into him; but striking under such conditions is uncertain work, and it was a good half-hour before I made a fortunate throw that buried the iron in his back. Then away we went. I rested from my exertions, while taking a ride at his expense, until, tired out, he sulked at the bottom. Being anxious to dispatch him, I punched him with the oar until he, now in fighting humor, came up in good style, with an ugly glare in his eyes, and with open mouth made for the boat. I thrust the pine oar into his mouth, and picked up my rifle. With a snap and a twist, the oar flew through the air, the handle striking against the boat; the ’Gator having broken off a mouthful. He again made for the boat, when, with the muzzle of the rifle within two feet of his head, another bullet met him, and caused his jaws to drop together limp and lifeless. He was eleven feet long, and too heavy to lift aboard; but tying a rope near each end of the boat, and passing the loose ends under the ’Gator, then taking an end in each hand, and standing on the gunwale so as to sink it to the water’s level, by heavy hauling on the ropes I rolled him aboard, just as a log is rolled upon a wagon. On the way to the landing I killed a third ’Gator, that, from the way in which he allowed me to approach him, ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 561 must have wanted to commit suicide. The boat was now heavily loaded, and sitting astride of the. largest, with a smaller one on either side, I moved slowly homeward. I did not notice the high-piled white clouds that tipped the dis- * tant pines until the threatening thunder shook the air, and the softest of Florida zephyrs, that caress your cheek as gently as the hand of a babe, grew into a breeze, ruffled the water, bent low the grass and rushes. Then it came stronger and stronger, causing the great pines and palmettos to sing their solemn song of complaint, until the heart of Mother Nature was full, her passion had reached its height, and tears followed. They fell until everything was drenched; and then, as quickly as it had come, the storm passed away, across the low land beyond the lake, and disappeared over the distant pines. The sun came out, and each glittering drop did its best to acknowledge and reflect back his smile. The rain-drops had beaten the waves down, so that in a few minutes the surface of the lake was as smooth as a mir- ror. It was soon broken, however, behind me, by a rising head and an arched tail. Both raised well out of water, when from his mouth came the deep, sepulchral roar of an old bull ’Gator. Scarcely had its last vibrations died away, when, as far as eye could see them, the lake became dotted with high- raised heads and arched tails; while from every throat came the deep roar that, swelling into a weird chorus, rolled across the lake, over the flat shore, and into the pines, as if following the rain. As to the cause of this ’Gator concert, I leave others to guess. I can not explain it, but would suggest thatall being subjected to the same conditions of weather likely to cause them to roar, the governing impulse of example of the leader was sufficient to start the others—just as a flock of chickens, standing idly by the barn, may all stretch out their necks, spread their wings, and run in play, simply because one of their number started them by his example. Next, we concluded to try striking ’Gators by firelight, and rigging a jack in the bow of the boat, stored” away a few armfuls of fat pine. As darkness closed around us, we 36 562 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. lit the torch, and with Doctor A—— at the oars, and myself standing in the bow, striking-pole in hand, with two hun- dred feet of line coiled carefully at my feet, we glided out into darkness; yet we were always surrounded by a circle of light, that, when the water was not too deep, lit-it up to the bottom. To our right, darted away an old red-fish, with a speed that seemed to be born of the knowledge that he was good to eat; while to the left, ran, in hurried confusion, a school of mullet. Sidewise, backward—any way to get away— scampered the crabs, every motion showing lively abeyance to fear, yet ever presenting their defensive claws in a defi- ant way, as if to say, ‘‘ You had better not; I'll bite.”’ “As we neared the opposite shore, the shadows of the tall trees added their strange charm to the dark water, and the harsh cry of the startled heron, as he rose from his bed, gave filing voice to the weird scene around us. “Ouch! Great Cesar!’’ These exclamations gave ex- pression to the fact that a sudden gust of wind had swung the jack of burning pine against my head and shoulders; but there was no harm done beyond singed hair and a spattering of hot pitch, that refused to be removed without taking the epidermis with it. Then turning my back to the light, I saw, off to the left, a pair of ’Gator’s eyes lighted up by the glare of our beacon. The Doctor now ‘put the boat within twenty feet of the owner of the eyes, who blinked wonderingly at the strange apparition. I had a fair strike, but the lily-iron happened to strike a bony _ plate, glanced off, and the head of the reptile disappeared beneath the dark water. Soon the white chin of another appeared within our circle of light, and as the pole left my hand, I grasped the line, now running out as fast as a nine-foot Gator could travel. The boat was now under headway, the ’Gator doing his level best to get away, and swimming head and shoulders above water; our light swinging to and fro, and the water splashing against the boat—all served to give us a novel midnight ride. But our tow-horse soon became A PUGNACIOUS PASSENGER, ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. - 563 balky, and a revolver-bullet rolled him over; but as we attempted to take him in, he suddenly darted beneath the boat, and we could hear and feel his teeth splintering the keel. This not being on our programme, we hauled away on the line until his head appeared at the surface, when the Doctor dealt him a heavy blow with an ax. We then hauled him into the boat, supposing him to be dead. He soon recovered from the blow, and seemed to conclude that he would paddle the canoe himself. ‘At any rate, he did paddle it with his huge tail in a manner that threatened instant destruction to it and to us. We would gladly have got out and walked, had the walking been good, but it was not;.and as for swimming, there were so many other ’Gators in sight that we shrunk from the thought of escaping in that way. The old saurian was reaching for me with his yawning jaws, and fanning the Doctor and the boat with his tail in such a terrific fashion that it became necessary for us to act promptly in self- defense.. I managed to get hold of the ax again, and this time split our passenger’s head wide open. Then we resumed our fishing, and soon had another, a small one, not over four feet long, which we took into the boat alive, but again had to do some active hopping to avoid his snaps. After dispatching him with a piece of ‘‘light- wood,’’ his infantile appearance relieved us of the desire to kill any more, and we turned homeward, fully persuaded that, owing to its weird surroundings, spearing by firelight is one of the most interesting methods of hunting the Alli- gator. Having now tried most of the common ways of approach- ing the ’Gators, still another remained to us, and that was hunting them with a dog. This is not based upon the dog’s love of ’Gator-hunting, but upon the ’Gator’s love of dog-hunting. Now, Doctor A—— had a large, worthless ‘dog, for which I lacked that kind regard that I usually feel for worthy members of his race; for did he not step quietly up behind me, one dark night, and by his sud- den ‘‘bow-wow-wow,”’ spoken in close proximity to my 564 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. coat-tail, cause me to spend the next five minutes in feel- ing around on my hands and knees for a lost slipper ? The Doctor readily gave his consent to the use of Nep as an Alligator-bait, with the request that I would not bring him back. After the usual amount of compliments, such as ‘‘good dog,’’ ‘‘pretty Nep,”’ ‘‘fine old fellow,” etc., had been addressed to his dogship, he kindly con- sented to being alternately dragged, led, and carried to the lake, where I tied him to a bush at the water’s edge, and retiring from his sight, hid in the bushes where I could get a good view of the water. Nep supposing that I had left him, set up a series of dismal howls, interjected with short, sharp notes, that for ear-splitting qualities could only be equaled by a prima donna. Soon a few heads, discernible in the distance, turned and began to move slowly toward the dog; some in a business-like way, and others so slowly that they scarcely seemed to move at all. After reaching the shore, they swam back and forth, casting longing glances in the direction of the dog, but apparently in no hurry to venture upon shore for him. After this perfermance had been kept up for an hour, I tied a heavy stone to Nep, anchored him in water up to his neck, and retired to the shore with ready rifle, but anxious to see as. much of their method of attack as was consistent with the safety of the dog. Nep sniffed the water sus- piciously, and made frantic efforts to escape. Soon a dozen- heads reappeared and moved cautiously toward the poor dog, who, with ears laid low, lips rigidly contracted, and wild eyes, was alternately uttering defiant growls and. terrified yells, altogether presenting a fine study of enforced defiance. ~ One old ’Gator finally approached to within twenty feet of the dog, stopped, and slowly began to sink, preparatory to darting upon the now frantic Nep. As his attack was to be under water, this was as faras I dared let him go; and just as his head was disappearing, I put a bullet through it. ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 565 I was tempted to see the attack through, but the pitiable cries of the poor dog, worthless though he was, would have haunted me if I had not relieved him from the terrible position in which I had purposely placed him. When I waded in and released him from his perilous plight, he started for home, and only touched the ground a few times en route. THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. By Jonn Dian Caton AND W. B, LEFFINGWELL. man is ever striving with his fellow-man, and set my face toward the green wildwood, where Nature reigns em supreme. Notalone I go, but with one whose tastes are congenial with my own. Aye, not with one only, but with two or three, I love to make a journey to some old, familiar camp-ground, or to some new and attractive one, in the deepest forest we can find, there to pitch our tent beside a fountain gushing from the living rock as if some Moses in former times had touched it with his wand. The music of its waters, as they leap from rock to rock on their way to the greater stream below, has often soothed to sleep when a hard day’s chase has necessitated repose. In the morning, at the break of day, we have climbed .the bluff above to catch the music of the birds, whose mel- ody told of happiness and love. Seated on an old moss- clad log, I love to watch the nimble squirrels as they leap from bough to bough, or chase each other up and down the old pine-trees, or gather acorns from the oaks hard by. While thus absorbed in contemplation of these cheery little’ strangers, I have been startled by the great antlered buck, as, in bounding leaps, he rushed madly through the brakes, startled by the report of my friend's rifle, or in pursuit of the timid doe. Oh, how delightful are such scenes! Their very remembrance is a joy renewed. But it is not alone the charms of solitude that lure us from the haunts of men to the wild life of the woods; such scenes are but episodes in the hunter’s life. He seeks the wilderness or the mountain in pursuit of game. When (567 ) | LOVE to leave the noise and rush of city life, where 568 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. upon the chase, he forgéts hunger and fatigue. With labo- rious, yet cautious steps, he follows the signs that tell him there is game ahead; and finally, when in response to the echo of his rifle he sees the great quarry plunge forward, fall upon his knees, and then stretch himself upon the ground, then it is that an exultant thrill flashes through every fiber of his frame, so intense as not to be compared with any other joy. Then itis that he measures the pro- portions of his capture, and carefully seeks for some new feature of the animal to add to his store of knowledge. The hunter, above all others, can study the habits of the animals he pursues and captures; and so, if he will, may gather a fund of knowledge which will be of untold value to the scientist, who must study only in his laboratory, his library, or in his parks. The hunter, who seeks and takes the game in its native fastnesses, may thus, I say, give him valuable assistance. To most sportsmen, companionship is indispensable to the full enjoyment of alife incamp. For myself, I have ever made this the first consideration when contemplating a hunting excursion. One disagreeable companion will poison the pleasure of a trip. One who is ever seeking some advantage over his associates, and ever boasting of his.superior skill and greater captures, must soon lose favor in the camp. He it is who will shirk some little duty which at times is liable to fall upon any member of the party. If he discovers a favorable pool for fish, he will sneak off by himself, in the hope of capturing a big string, and of boastfully triumphing over those who may have been less fortunate. If he happen to make a good shot in the course of the day, he will come rushing into camp with a loud whoop, fairly swaggering over his success, and insisting that nobody ever made such a shot before, or ever will again. He will boast of it for the rest of his life, with- out noticing the smile of contempt which his auditors can not repress. The true sportsman enjoys and commends the success of his companions.as much as his own achievements. Selfish- THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 569 ness is the bane of camp life. The selfish man is ever seek- ing his own pleasure and gratification regardless of others. He appropriates without shame the best of everything within his reach. He shirks without scruple his share of the duties which devolve upon each, without appreciating in what a contemptible light his conduct is viewed by other members of the party. He forfeits the respect of his associ- ates, and soon contempt takes the place of the mutual respect so necessary to a pleasant outing. Egotism is scarcely less to be regretted than selfishness; indeed, it is closely allied to it. The egotist is ever boast- ing of his own achievements and belittling those of others. The success of another affords him no pleasure, but rather mortification. His ambition is to be considered superior to others, and, to secure this end, he will not hesitate to belit- tle their acts, if not by direct words, then by covert insin- uations. Geniality is indispensable to a happy life in camp, and this is best promoted when each one seeks to gratify the sen- sibilities of the others, by commending their achievements rather than by boasting of his own. Sportsmen should, above all others, cultivate.a cordial,fraternal feeling, in which the highest honor, integrity, and liberality should prevail. I was once at Cedar Key, Florida, and borrowing some fishing-tackle, went down to an old, dilapidated wharf to try my hand for sea-trout, which I was told were taken in those waters.. There I found an elderly man fishing, to whom I introduced myself. I told him I was fond of fish- ing, but was a stranger to those waters and to the sea-trout, which I understood prevailed there. That was introduction enough. He kindly offered to tell me what he knew about them; and, as he was short of bait, I gladly supplied him with some of mine. He explained the mode of angling for sea-trout, and then proposed that we go ‘‘cahoots,’”’ to which, of course, I gladly assented. I imitated his casts as closely as I could, but somehow the fish knew the differ- ence, for every few minutes he landed a fine specimen, after a lively run; but very few touched my bait. When we 570 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. - finished, as beautiful a string of fish as one could wish to look at lay upon the wharf, the sight of which I admired more than I possibly could the taste. The charm was soon broken by the old cord-wainer, who proceeded to divide our spoils into two equal parts. This I protested should not be; but he said it was all right, for if luck had favored him the most, the difference was but very small, and as we were partners, I was entitled to my half. I could not consent, however, to thus deprive him of his game, and settled the matter by picking up four out of the pile of perhaps fifteen or twenty, and telling him that was more than I could use. We shook hands and parted, with a warmth of feeling which, under other circumstances, it might have taken a long time to engender. I refer to this incident to illustrate the feeling and friendship which should always prevail among sportsmen, whether hunting or fishing. He was a man after my own heart, and I only regret that opportunity never permitted. me to meet him again. He had a great heart, and between us there at once grew up a fraternal feeling; a cord of sym- pathy was drawn out between us which made us brothers, and would have prompted us to make great sacrifices for each other, if need had been. Would that all sportsmen could thus feel and act toward each other. Good-feeling is indispensable to the enjoyment of the sportsman’s life. Cordiality alone can make it enjoyable. Selfishness and egotism beget dislike; harmony begets cor- diality; discord engenders dislike, which not unfrequently degenerates to hatred. : Allowance may be made for the enthusiasm of the neo- phyte, and even approval of it; for who will ever forget the exultation which he himself felt when he saw his first Deer fall to his rifle? Had he not felt exultant then, it would have bespoken a lack of spirit, which one needs to become a sportsman; nor will he ever cease to feel a high degree of gratification at the moment of a successful capture. But to exult in this to the disparagement and discomfort of one’s companions is what I wish to discourage. THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 571 A mere love of slaughter does not bespeak a sportsman; ‘that feeling might be better gratified in the adatdoir than in the woods. No matter how abundant the game, none but a brute would ever kill it for the mere pleasure of killing, and leave it to rot on the ground. The feeling of utility must be associated with its capture. If it can not be util- ized, a pang of regret must take the place of gratification, in the breast of a true sportsman, when he sees his game laid prone before him; and how glad would he be were it alive, and bounding away through the woods or over the prairie! The true sportsman’s camp is a school for the young beginner, where he may learn many things besides the mode of pursuing and capturing his game. If he be fortunate in selecting his associates in his early outings, he will learn many things, besides the mode of hunting, which will con- tribute largely to the pleasure of his life in after years. He will learn how largely acts of kindness and courtesy toward his companions contribute to the happiness of ail; to commend the skill of others rather than to boast of his own; to strike or pitch a tent; how to dress his game; to cook a meal, when occasion shall require; dnd a thousand other things which need not be mentioned here. He will learn that a sportsman may be a gentleman, and indeed should be, if he would make himself agreeable to his com- panions, and contribute his share to the enjoyment of the excursion. : The true sportsman does not hunt solely for game, but for the pleasure it affords him, for health, and to rest him- self from the toil of business. In this he is rarely disap- pointed. Look about you and see what a large proportion of those who have, each year, torn themselves trom busi- ness, and spent a few weeks in the hunter’s camp, or on the banks of streams, ehjoy robust health, even in advanced age. Their systems, when young, become well knit together, their constitutions greatly strengthened, and so they are enabled to perform more labor, and with less fatigue, than those who lack the energy or the inclination to leave their common avocations and seek much-needed rest. 572 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. I speak not now of those who hunt for game only, for, as a general rule, they have no business, which could fatigue their minds, at least, if they have minds to be fatigued. If they would devote the same effort to some other honest pursuit, their gains would be vastly greater, taking the season through. That class of men have always been called shiftless, and have lacked that degree of respectability for which all honest men should strive. I regret that there are some who aspire to the name of sportsmen, who, on occasion, fall beneath that.rank. I refer now to those who do not hesitate to shoot game or take fish out of season. In a wild and uninhabited or sparsely settled country, where the streams are swarm- ing with fish, which are never ‘taken because there is no one there to take them, or in the far-distant wilds, where an abundance of game is found, which is rarely hunted, game laws would be out of place; and so it would be quite proper at any time of the year to take as much meat, or as many fish, as one’s necessities might require—but even then, to capture more than could be utilized would be to indulge a brutish and unmanly instinct.. But in countries where civilization has, to a large extent, driven off the wild animals or game birds, all right-thinking men must appre- ' ciate the necessity for laws to protect them from extermi- nation; and these laws have just as binding a force upon every citizen as that law which says ‘‘Thou shalt not steal.’ At least, such is its legal obligation, and so, indeed, should it be binding morally. No game law can ever be framed which will meet the approval of all; and if one man says that he. thinks that the close season com- mences too early, and therefore he will not observe it, another may, with equal propriety, claim that there should be no law which would prevent him from shooting game animals when he pleases—his father, fifty years ago, shot all he wanted, and why should he not enjoy the same right? He forgets that conditions are changed, and he must admit that it would be very unwise to exterminate all our game birds and animals; and yet, unless he and his like THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 573 are restrained, utter extermination must soon follow in those countries where game is beginning to grow scarce. The wild animals in any country belong to the State, and it is only by sufferance that the State allows anyone to kill them; hence the right of the commonwealth to protect the wild animals within its borders is as unquestioned as is its right to protect its treasure in its vaults. On this important subject, civilization may learn some- thing valuable from savage life. When the great prairies were first visited by the white man, they fairly swarmed with great herds of Bison, and so they continued till they were exterminated by the white man’s rifle. As late as 1840, I saw large collections of their bones on the Illinois prairies, still in a good state of preservation; and two miles up the south branch of the Chicago River, at a place now within the heart of the City of Chicago, for more than half a mile the whole surface of the ground was covered with Buffalo-wallows, so that it was difficult to drive a wagon, except at a very slow rate, over the surface. Other large game was equally abundant throughout this great valley at an early day, and so it had undoubtedly been for untold ages. During all this time, large tribes of Indians inhab- ited every part of it, whose principal subsistence was the game they killed and the fish they caught; but they wasted none, they only killed to supply their wants, and the result was that the game was never depleted, but continued as abundant year after year, and century after century, as it had ever been. While this could not continue in a country densely settled by civilized man, there are large districts of country where the conditions are such as to be well adapted to the well-being of every species of wild animal known to the country, if the white man, who seeks them, would only kill enough to supply his wants. The smaller game, such as grouse and water-fowl, are still with us, and would be in great abun- dance forever, were they but reasonably protected, and no more killed than enough to supply the legitimate needs of those who hunt them, and at the proper seasons. Let us, 574 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. I say, learn a lesson from the Indians who preceded us, and not extend our slaughter beyond reasonable limits. If we will not spare the game from choice, then society must interpose, and compel us to do what we should do volun- tarily. Imagine a country entirely destitute of wild ani- mals, where all the native fauna have become extinct, and to most men it would seem like a desert, many of its choicest-charms would be gone, and it would become the most fitting abode for the miser, whose happiness consists in counting his gold.-; When the white man drove the Bison beyond the Mis- souri River, it gathered in countless herds on the great plains east of the Rocky Mountains, and filled the country from Texas to the Saskatchewan. But twenty years ago that whole country was covered with the Bison, in numbers almost beyond computation, and there was the grandest hunting-ground ever known in any part of the world. So great were their numbers that it was thought they never could be exterminated; and yet, a single score of years has sufficed to blot- them from the face of the earth, with but very few exceptions. Had Congress done its duty, and stretched out its arm to protect this, the grandest game animal in the world, we should now have a preserve which would be the boast of every true American; but it is too late now—that great opportunity is forever gone. A few may be preserved in the Yellowstone Park, but only enough for specimens; the area is too limited for more. Other large game may be there preserved, but only to the same extent. Had the Government acted upon General Sheridan’s recommendation, made some years ago, to greatly enlarge that park by the addition of a mountain district adjoining it, which can never be useful for any other pur- pose, then indeed we might in time have had a collection of wild animals peculiar to our country, approximating, at least, their condition in a wild state. Had each white man who went to hunt the Buffalo been “as reasonable in his tastes as the ignorant.red man; had he killed to supply his reasonable wants, and no more—law or THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 575 no law—we should yet have had the great herds of Bison. Would all men do so from this time on, we should always have Elk, Deer, Moose, and Caribou. But if men continue to kill everything they can reach with their lead, whether they need it or not; if men are allowed to hunt for the market and for simply the skins of these noble animals, then all of them will soon be extinct. In conclusion, let me beseech all sportsmen to maintain the dignity of the craft to which they belong, and to exert all their influence to elevate the standing of that craft and to preserve our game and fishes. oP D. C. Let any man wander through the forests, and let there come wafted to his ears, on the wings of the wind, sweet melody from the throat of some feathered songster; let him trace, through the ambrosial leaves, the secreted place of his serenader; yet, when he sees the bird, he may not behold one resplendent in brilliant colors, clothed in gaudy raiment, cloaked with feathers dazzling in their sweeping or trailing beauty, but rather one modest in appearance, subdued in colorings, but whose lack of luster is more than balanced by the heavenly music that warbles and tremors, that pipes and is lost in mournful cadence as its flute-like tones vibrate and thrill deliciously through the woods. So it is with man. Clothing does not make a gentle- man; gentility, if he possess it, is born and bred in him, and asserts itself unsolicited; is ever on the surface, and, like the gurgling spring, bubbles forth and is never-ending. We are nearly all more or less barbarians, not in the sense of lacking enlightenment and rejoicing in the fruits of civilization, but in our love for out-of-door life and the sports of the field; and when I find a man who is not easily drawn toward the pleasures of the field; who does not rejoice in the opportunity to walk forth and commune with Nature; who does not love to follow the banks of some winding stream, and tempt the trout or the gamy bass with his alluring bait; or to follow the baying hounds as they 576 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. leap from crag to crag, rushing through the dells, over hill and dale, in the thickets, or in the tall prairie-grass; or in milder sports, with faithful Setter and armed with light and easy-hanging gun, to seek the woodcock among the alders and brakes, or the confiding quail on the golden stubble— when I find a man who does not love these pastimes, it seems to me that Nature has been derelict, and has neg- lected to engraft into his being the highest attributes of manhood. , Not love Nature ?—the flowing streams, the placid lake, the waving prairie, the majestic forest, the grand, towering mountain, the sublime, peaceful valley?) When a man can say, truly, that the cares of business have weaned him from the love of these things, then the longing for wealth, its power and influence, has torn from him the enjoyment of some of the greatest blessings of our life. We often wish some dear friend or some honored guest, as he bids us good- bye after having favored us with his companionship for a_ time, health, wealth, and prosperity; but the greatest bless- ing we could bestow on him, had we the power, would be perfect health. Yet it is within the province of nearly every man to possess it, if he will. Itis not to be found-in the shop, the office, the store, or beneath the roof of buildings made by man; it can be realized in its entirety only in the open fields, in the forests, on the streams, when the earth is bathed in sunshine, or when the Goddess of Night casts her mantle over tired Nature, and kisses to rest the departed day, breathing into her sleeping form the sweet incense of renewed life, as she bathes the verdure with her tears of dew which gladden our existence. A selfish person we despise; but he who loves the fresh- ness of the fields is not, nor ever will be, selfish. There is a charm which seems to dwell in the balsam of the firs, in the purity of the fields, in the odor of the flowers, which descends from the blue vault of heaven by day and lingers through the starry night, forever ennobling and enriching the heart of him who loves the fields. You say of him, he loves dogs or horses. Show me the man who does, and I THE ETHIO8 OF FIELD SPORTS. 577 will see in my presence one who is kind, generous, and brave; for one can not love animals and delight in their companionship without learning from them lessons of unselfishness, and without becoming himself the soul of generosity. Still, we must admit, reluctantly, that there are exceptions to this as well as to all other rules, and we would not conceal the fact that there are so-called sports- . men who are selfish. These exceptions simply prove the rule we have stated. Asat times that which seems most perfect in appearance is sullied with hidden defects, so it is with some sportsmen. It often takes years, in the ordinary course of business or ’ social life, to find out a man’s true nature; but if you will but camp with him, hunt with him, or tramp with him, on some nomadic excursion for a few weeks, his real character will become as open and plain to read and to understand as an open book when the day is at its brightest. Were I to invite you to my house, you would be an hon- ored guest. All the sources within my power, so far as my means might permit, would be brought forward in order to make you feel that you were welcome, and that my aim and desire were merely the gratification of your pleasures. The hospitality which one friend so gladly extends to another, you would expect, and I would accord you. Sup- pose, however, I broaden the invitation, and, instead of inviting you to my house, solicit you to enjoy, as my guest, the pleasures of my fields. Should there be a distinction in my manner of treatment of you, as between my house and my fields? Most assuredly not. *Yet I have been received with the greatest cordiality at a man’s house, who left me under many obligations to him as I bade him good- night, but who has chilled me, and canceled all the kindly feeling I had for him, by his selfishness on the following day. Taking me to fields where game was plentiful, he has shot throughout the day, taking first choice of ground and. of shots on all occasions, apparently without the least com- punction of conscience, regardless of all etiquette or com- mon decency. 37 os 578 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. If you were my guest, my desire would be to make your visit a pleasant one; it would make no difference whether at home or afield. Were I to seat you at my table, then help myself before offering you the choicest before us, you would rightly consider mea boor. Yet some men, who pro- fess to be sportsmen, and who would show no such ill- breeding at their table, will, in their shooting, rob their guest.of his shots regardless of the birds’ flight. Then, at the close of the day’s sport, after having acted the part of the swine in picking out the choicest ground for themselves, and shooting birds that did not belong to them under the rules of the field, and that they knew would have been bagged by their guest, they will boast to some country bumpkin of how they killed ‘‘twiced as many as the other _ feller, who is considered a mighty good shot.”’ I know of no one so despicable to hunt with as such a man; and yet, linked to him in the closest alliance is the one who fires at every bird, and constantly claims that he kills each one that falls. There is nothing more disgusting than this; and when a gentleman is unwittingly found in the company of such a man, the day is spoiled for him. He wonders what he has done that a punishment so hard to endure should have been inflicted on him. The fields may be broad, the space unbounded wherein to hunt, and yet there is neither breadth nor depth enough to any field to justify a gentleman sportsman in shooting in company with such a man. When a man claims the killing of a bird at which both he and his companion have fired, the claimant not only shows his selfishness, his lack of gentlemanly qualities, but shows his lack of confidence in his own skill. The crack- shot doesn’t need to claim his bird, for when the trigger is pulled, it seems to him that he intuitively sees the charge of shot reach its intended mark, notes its effect, and knows whether or not he has bagged the bird; therefore, the true sportsman will not claim the bird under such circumstances, and will say nothing; or, if with a younger and more inex- perienced companion, will insist that his comrade made the THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 579 successful shot, and that his own aim was untrue. It is such trivial acts of self-denial and generosity that endears to the hearts of inexperienced shots their more skillful and experienced. brothers. When a sportsman shows the courtesies in the field, which he should do unsolicited, and with pride and pleas- ure, he is entitled to no reward for merit, but simply car- ries out the lessons of unselfishness which his association with Nature and with gentlemen has taught him. When you invite a friend to be your guest on a hunting or fishing trip, you honor yourself with hig presence. Your _ path is plainly before you, and leads in only one direction. It is plainly your duty to make the day one of the happiest possible for him. How best to do this, the circumstances of the case and your own gentlemanly instincts should teach you. You should insist on his accepting the first shot; and if he should be so unfortunate as to miss, don’t add to his chagrin by trying to bag the bird before he has fired his second barrel, but let him shoot again. Better let the bird go free than violate the courtesies of the craft. As you enter the field with him, tell him he is to shoot first; then, placing him at your left—because most men can shoot better at left-quartering birds—tell him you will take turns with him on straight-away birds, but he is to fire at those going to the left, while you will take those going to the right. Should it happen that most of the birds fly to the right, exchange places, or insist that he take every alter- nate shot going to the right. Human life is like a piece of machinery—they both need the best of oil to make them work smoothly and successfully; and there is nothing which attains its end with a man so effectually as gentle, unobtrusive, thoughtful preferences which are delicately thrust upon him. They may be small, but they show that a man’s heart is right; and by showing your guest such attentions and courtesies, even for a day, you make him your friend for life. The old saying, that ‘‘Two is company, and three is a crowd,’ is true here; for, in upland shooting, but two 580 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. should hunt together. Where there are more than two shooting over the same dog, or pair of dogs, it causes con- fusion to the hunters, excites the dogs, and smacks too strongly of game extermination. It would be impossible to live up to the rules of field etiquette were we to indulge in club-hunts. They ought not to be called club-hunts, but, rather, extermination hunts; for this is the effect, although not primarily the object of them. Iam opposed to the congregating of indi- viduals for the purpose of choosing sides, then hunting and declaring the winners on a score of, points, on game of any kind. No matter how honest a man’s intentions are, if he allows himself to join these destructive forces, he lowers himself to their level, and in his anxiety that his side shall win, may stoop to secure game by unsportsmanlike methods. Let him see a covey of quails on the ground, and he is extremely liable to forget for the moment his love of legiti- mate sport, his desire to give each bird a chance for its life, and to fire at the covey. He picks up the result of his pot- shot, looks guiltily around, then: secretly congratulates himself on the number of “points”? gained. When aman allows the element of profit to enter into the day's hunt, avarice, greed, and the desire for a big bag cloud the mind, dull the conscience and the beauties of Nature, and the. proper love for field sports are for the time forgotten—the hunter is converted into a mercenary creature who deserves the contempt of honorable sportsmen. The same precepts and principles here declared as to the shooting of feathered game, apply with equal force to the hunting of Big Game or the taking of fish. Our game, both large and small, is fast disappearing, and our attention should.at all times be directed to its pres- ervation. The true sportsman will limit himself to a decent-sized bag, whether the law of the State wherein he shoots requires this or not; and when he has killed sufficient for himself and friends, will cease to shoot, even though there be whole coveys of birds, or whole herds of Elk or Deer, still in sight. THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 581 I have neither the space nor desire to enter into an elab- orate discourse, giving advice to young men as to their duties afield; but a gentleman is the same in the field as in the drawing-room, and when a man is found who is selfish in the field, depend upon it he is so elsewhere, and in busi- ness-life will prove decidedly unpleasant to deal with. Many of our greatest minds have found steadfast and undying friendship among children of the forest; untaught they were, and deprived of ordinary educational advantages —hbut the solitude of the wilderness, and the purity of the untainted and unpolluted fields and streams, imbued them . with honesty, generosity, and freedom from deceit. The sportsman, then, will find his greatest happiness in “the open air, and his life will be prolonged and bettered for it; and as he wanders through some shady-dell, and feels and knows he is alone, he notes the golden bars of sunlight streaming through the clustering leaves, seats himself beside some gurgling brook, and as the birds sing sweetly to him, soliloquizes: ‘‘Nature never did betray the heart that loved her. ’Tis her privilege through all the years of this, our life, to lead from joy to joy; for she can so inform the mind that is within us, so impress with quietness and beauty, and so feed with lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary inter- course of daily life, shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb our cheerful faith that all which we behold is full of blessings.”’ W.&B.L. Repeating Rifles Single Shot Rifles AND Repeating Shot Guns AMMUNITION OF EVERY DESCRIPTION. FOR SALE EVERYWHERE. For Eighty-page Illustrated Catalogue, send to Winchester Repeating Arms Co. NEW HAVEN, CONN. THE CELEBRATED om 4 Wesson Revolvers Have Broken all Records for Revolver Shooting. — EVER MANUFACTURED. Unrivaled in Beauty of Finish, Durability «Accuracy. Manufactured in .32, .38, and .44-100. Single and Double Action Hammerless Safety and Target Models, with all latest improvements—Automatic Shell Extractor, Rebounding Lock, and Patented Safety Device. The Smith & Wesson Revolvers are constructed entirely of best wrought steel, carefully inspected for workmanship and stock, and GUARANTEED. Do not be deceived by IMITATIONS largely manufactured of malleable cast iron, and often sold for the genuine Smith & Wesson. All the Revolvers of this firm are stamped upon the barrels with their name, address, and dates of patents. If dealer can not supply you, orders sent to address below will receive prompt and careful attention. Catalogues and prices furnished upon application. 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THE STILL HUNTER, An analytical treatise on American deer hunting, and the use of the rifle m the field. With a full description of the deer hunting of San Diego County. 390 pages. Price, $2.00. A All the above books are published by Ford, Howard & Hulbert, New York City. For sale by the trade generally. CALIFORNIA S REACHED in the most comfortable manner through ¢ Chicago and thence over ‘* THE SANTA FE ROUTE.” This is the most comfortable route by reason of the fact that every day through cars are run from Chicago to Los Angeles, and from Chicago to San Francisco without change, and because it is the only route over which such accommodations can be secured. It is the most comfortable because of its superb passen- ger accommodations, and because it takes Twenty-seven Hours less time to go from Chicago to Los Angeles or San Diego over the Santa Fé Route than over any other. This you can demonstrate by comparing our time card with that of other lines. It is decidedly the most preferable route for winter travel, as it is far enough south to avoid the delays caused. by snow and extreme cold experienced on more northerly routes, and in the summer it is the pleasantest by reason of the fact that the solid roadway of the Santa Fé Route gives off little or no dust, and the time of the journey to Southern California is so much less than on other lines. The service in the Dining Cars and in the Dining Rooms along the Santa Fé Route is an added attraction, as on such a long journey a person desires properly prepared food, and it is assured on this line. The scenes along the Santa Fé Route are the most diversified in the United States. Beginning at Chicago, the most modern of the cities of the world, it passes through Illinois, Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona to California, For those desiring to go to California, through Pueblo, Colorado Springs, and Denver, the Santa Fé Route is also the most desirable, as its own tracks extend from Chicago to all of those cities and connect in union depots with trains of the Denver & Rio Grande and other lines west from the cities named. , W. F. WHITE, JNO. J. BYRNE, Pass’r Traffic Manager, Ass’t Gen’l Pass’r Agent, CHICAGO. QVER 7,000 ILE FIRST-CLASS RAILROAD Penetrating the most attractive portions of Illinois, lowa, Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota, Dakota, Nebraska and Wyoming. THe Direct Route : Tourists Sportsmen ‘Milwaukee, Waukesha, Madison, Neenah and Menasha, Green Lake, Marquette, Lake Geneva, Fox Laka, Devll’s Lake. 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Can all be Secured by taking the other Pacific &. A. BETWEEN THE EAST AND Dakota, Manitoba, Montana, Idaho, Washington, British Columbia, Oregon and California. THIS IS THE "Vellowstone Park and [Jining Gar Route,” The Northern Pacific Railroad is the Short Line to Helena, Butte, Tacoma, Seattle and Portland, Ore.; is the Only Line Running Pullman Sleeping Cars to Fergus Falls, Grand Forks, Grafton, Winnipeg, Fargo, Helena and Butte City, and is the Only Rail Line Reaching Cheney, Sprague, Yakima, Ellensburgh, Seattle, Tacoma and nine-tenths of the Cities and Towns of Washington. PULLMAN SLEEPERS, DINING CARS AND. FREE COLONIST SLEEPERS ON EXPRESS TRAINS DAILY. This Line Offers Special Attractions to California Tourists. For full information concerning rates, time, etc., call on or address your nearest ticket agent, any traveling passenger agent of this company, or GHAS. S. FEE, General Passenger and Ticket Agent, N.P.R. R. ST. PAUL, MINN. THE ANTELOPE AND DEER OF AMERICA. .4A Comprehensive Treatise on the Natural History, Including the Characteristics, Habits, Affinities, and Capacity for Domestication, of the ANTELOCAPRA AND CERVIDA: OF NORTH AMERICA. By JOHN DEAN CATON. Svo, 426 Pages, 54 Illustrations. Cloth, $2.50 PUBLISHED AND FOR SALE BY FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO., 318 Broadway, New York City. FRebD. KAEMPFER, TAXIDERMIST, AND DEALER IN TAXIDERMISTS’ AXATERIALS. ARTIFICIAL GLASS EYES FOR STUFFED BIRDS, ANIMALS, FISH, Etc. Also Entomological and Egg Implements, Insect Pins, Cork for Insect Cases, Ege Drills, Etc., Etc. SEND FOR CATALOCUE OF ABOVE COODs. Birds and animals of all kinds mounted to order. Mounting of deer, elk, and buffalo heads aspecialty. a FRED, KAEMPFER, No. 169 E. Madison St., Chicago, Ill. CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADES 2 : ‘ A NARRATIVE OF A sey F Travel, Exploration, Amateur Photography, Hunting & Fishing With Special Chapters on Hunting the Grizzly Bear, the Buffalo, Elk, Antelope, Rocky Mountain Goat, and Deer; also on Trouting in the Rocky Mountains; on a Montana Roundup ; Life among the Cowboys, Etc. _ BY G. O. SHIELDS (“COQUINA"), Author of ‘ RUSTLINGS IN THE RockrEs,” ‘“ HUNTING INTHE GREAT WEST,” “THE BATTLE OF THE Bic HOLE,’ ETc. 12mo. 30 Pages, 75 Illustrations, Cloth, $2.00; Half Calf, $3.00. The learned writer, scientist and spor teman, Col. W. D. Pickett, better known as “P.,” says of this book: ‘“ The true lover of nature who delights to occasionally escape from the annoyances and worriments inseparable from so-called civilized life, and to wander amid scenes that tell only of the . infinite power, the bepeficence, and the grandeur of the Great Ruler; who delights to worship in the grandest of all His temples—the mountains; who realizes and feels His presence on every mountain peak, in every dark canyon, in every rushing wind, in every gentle zephyr, and who, amid such scenes, above all realizes his own weakness and littleness; he it is who will take pleasure in following the author amid some of the grandest and most. beautiful scenery on this continent.” Mr, T.S. Van Dyke, author of The Still Hunter,” and other popular books, says: ‘It is one of the most entertaining books on field sports yet published. Mr. Shields always has something to say, and says it ina way that makes one see it. He is never dull, and there is an air of truth about his work that fully satisfies the reader.” Mr. Orin Belknap, known and loved of all sportsmen by his familiar pseudonym of ‘' Uncle Fuller,"*says: ‘' The author of this work has placed the sportsmen of America under eee i a by his pleasing descrip- tions of his adventures in the wilis of these little-known mountains.” “Yn all that pertains to exploration, the wild journeys into wild places, the dangerous ascent of ruggéd peaks and no ess perilous-descent into obscure valleys, hitherto untrodden by the foot of man,the lungs expanded with deep breaths of untainted air, the blood bounding with sudden pros- pects and unexpected discoveries, the keen feeling of full and abundant life and the nearness of the great heart of nature—in all this the author wins, and deserves to win, the hearty sympathy of readers of every cast of thought, opinion and condition.”--Belford’s Magazine. Says W. B. Leffiugwell, the gifted author of ** Wild Fow! Sbooting,” and of ‘*Shooting on Upland, Field, and Marsh:” “I have rarely encountered, anywhere, such vivid descriptions of life in the mountains as ure found in ‘Crusings in the Cascades.’”” ‘Men who enjoy jaunts into the woods in search of big game will find this book extremely interesting.” —New York Herald. ***Cruisings in tne Cascades’ is by far the best thing Coquina has ever written.”—American Field. mie “Jt is a handsomely printed and finely illustrated volume, made up cf spirited sketches of travels,explorations, hunting and fishing. It is charm- ingly interesting. The author mingles solid facts of great value with accounts of his wild adventures, and tells the story with an off-hand style that banishes sleep from tired eyes.”—Chicago Inter-Ocean. **Oruisings in the Cascades’ is Mr. Shields’ latest, and, we think, best ublication. It will be heartily appreciated by American sportsmen.”— houting and Fishing. 4 . “The pages are breezy and the illustrations numerous and attractive, the camera having been freely used by the author in his travels.”--Turf, Field and Farm. “Mr. Shields is not only a hunter, but an angler, and an amateur photo- grapher, and on his excursions in the mountains has made good use of his. opportunities. Asa narrative of adventure the book is entertaining, and as. a record of sport it will delight many readers.”—The Literary World. “It is sure to meet with a large sale.”— Chicago Tribune. “It is by all odds the most fascinating book on big game hunting ever published.”—The Journalist. : This book will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, CHICAGO. The American Book of the Dog The Origin, Development, Special Characteristics, Utility, Breeding, Training, Diseases, and Kennel Manage- ment of all Important Breeds of Dogs. 5 A Book for Dog Fanciers and Dog Owners EDITED BY G..O. SHIELDS (‘‘Coquina”), Author of ‘‘CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADES,” ‘‘ RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES, ” “HUNTING IN THE GREAT WeEst,” ‘THE BATTLE OF THE Bic Hos,” ‘‘Tae Bia Game or NortH AMERICA,” ‘“‘CAMPING AND CAMP OUTFITS,” 8vo0, 700 Pages, 85 Illustrations. Cle: Cloth, $4.00; Half Calf, $5.00. CONTENTS. The English Setter— Bernard Waters, Kennel editor The American Field, and author of **Modern Training, Handling, and Kennel Management.” The Irish Setter—Max Wenzel, Secretary ne jrish Setter Club of America, and B. Seitner, Vice-President The Pointer Glub of America, The Gordon Setter—Harry Malcolm, Fabia The American Gordon Sctter Clu The Pointer....... Charles K. Westbrook, A The Greyhound—Col. Roger D. Williams, Brot: dent The Iroquois Hunting and Riding Club. The Deerhound.. . Dr, Q. Van Hummell. The Foxhound—Dr. M.'G. Ellzey, Associate Editor The National Economist. The Bassethound Lawrence Timpson. The Dachshund William Loeffler. The Blo :dhound bee Winchell The Russian Wolf! iam Wade. The Beagle—H. F. Schellhass, Prestdent The ‘American-Engitsh Beagle Club. The Irish Water Spaniel—P. T. Madison, Secre- tary The Indiana ‘Kennel Clu The English Water S Sanat willie A. Bruette. The Clumber Spanlel—F. H. F. Mercer, Kennel Editor Sports Afield. The Sussex Spaniel—A. Clinton Wilmerding, President The American Spaniel Club. The Cocker Spaniel.. .J. Otis Fellows. The F x Terrier—A’ i; Belmont, Jr., Presi- dent The American Kennel Club, and The American Fox Terrier Club. The Chesapcake Bay Dog-George W. Kierstead. The Bedlin, ton Terrier W. H. Russell. The Irish Terrier. 8. Niven! The Bull Terrier . rank F Dole. The White English T .E. F. Burns. The Airedale Terrier... . H. F. Mercer. The Scottish Terrier.. John H. Naylor. The Dandie Dinmont Terrler—John H. Naylor. The Skye Terrier............ Lawrence Timpson. The Black and Tan Terrier..... Dr. H. T. Foote. The Maltese Terrier........ Miss A. H. Whitney. The Collie—Henry J: aire tt and J. E. Dougherty. The Old English Sheep D: 2 fvilliam Wade. , The Great Dane (Gennan 1 Dog pe) aciinting eval . He me Meena. The St. Bernard. The Mastiff........ The Newfoundlan The Bulldog....... The Dalmatian Coach Dog. aj. - J. Woodcock. ~The Poo . R. Furness. ug. .G, W. Fisher. The Mexican Hairless Dog... .Mrs. Elr ‘oy Foote. The Toy Spaniels—Miss Marion E. Bannister, Secretary The Néw York Pet. Dog ¢ Club. The Schipperke...........-...... E. R. Spalding. Diseases of the Dog, and their Rometes ae Frank Perry (‘Ashmont’), author of ‘Dogs; 1 qhelr Management and Treatment spatter Training J cettatas setts F. H. F. Mercer. This book will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by RAND, McNALLY & CO., 162 to 172 Adams St., Chicago. Camping «Camp Outiits A MANUAL OF INSTRUCTION FOR YOUNG AND OLD SPORTSMEN. BY G. O. SHIELDS (“COQUINA”), Author of ‘‘Cruisines In THE CascaDEs,” ‘‘THE Bie GAME oF NoRrTH AMERICA,” ‘RUSTLINGS IN THE Rooxres,” HUNTING IN THE GREAT West,” ‘‘THEe Battie or THE Bie Hous,” etc. 12mo0. 170 Pages. 30 Iltustrations. Cloth, $1.25. The book also contains a chapter by Dr. CHARLES GILBERT DAVIS, on CAMP HYGIENE, MEDICINE, AND SURGERY; one by Col. J. FRY LAWRENCE, on CAMP COOKERY; and one by FRANK F. FRISBIH, on THE DIAMOND HITCH, OR HOW TO LOAD A PACK HORSE. “Every reader of sportsmen’s literature will recognize, at once, the fact that, herein, Mr. Shields has a subject on which he is thoroughly competent to instruct. The book is the result of thirty years’ experience in the woods and mountains, and bristles with points from cover to cover. The articles by Dr. Davis, Col. Lawrence, and Mr. Frisbie, on Camp Medicine and Surgery, Camp Cookery, and the Diamond Hitch are also timely and full of instruc- ‘tion.”"— American Field. “ Any young man, or old one either, not experienced in camp life, who is anticipating an outing in the woods, will find this neat volume a good investment. It is no theoretical writing, but a book born of experience, wise in its suggestions, and good upon every page. It is not often one sees a more thoroughly practical writing. It covers everything: The outfit in clothing, in food, in tackle, in implements, with valuable advice to govern life in camp. Old sportsmen will enjoy this volume so pleasantly written, although it may tell them little that they have not already learned from experience, and young ones will find it invaluable.”’—Chicago Inter-Ocean. “This book should be in the library of every sportsman, and will save its cost many times to each and every purchaser, by the practical and useful instruction it imparts,”— Chicago Herald. “Mr, Shields has been camping and studying woodcraft for a quarter of a century, and surely should and does know about all there is of camp lore. In ‘‘Camping and Camp Outfits ** he wastes no words, but gets to the point by the shortest route. Every page, and every line, conveys valuable information. Old campers will enjoy reading this book because it is practical, and young campers can not afford to be without it.""—Sports Afield. This book will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by RAND, McNALLY & CO., 162 to 172 Adams Street, Chicago. merican . Game Fishes How, When, and Where to Angle for them. EDITED BY G. O. SHIELDS (‘COQUINA”), i : é Pry Author of ‘‘CRUISINGS IN THE CascaDES,” ‘‘ RuSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES,’ ‘‘TIUNTING IN THE GREAT West,” ‘‘THE BATTLE oF THE Bie Hous,” ‘‘Tus Bre Game or Norra America,” ‘‘CaMPING AND Camp OUTFITS,” ete. 8vo, 500 Pages, 80 Illustrations, Cloth, $4.00; Half Calf, $5.00. CONTENTS. The Salmon .......:-005 seeseee Charles Hallock, seagninte” “ditor The American Angler ; author of ‘The Sportsman’s Gazetteer,” etc. The Pacific Salmon.,W. A. Perry(“‘Sillalicum”’), Author of *Elk- Hunting in the Olympic Mountains " e a The Land- Locked "Salmon.. .J.G, A, Creighton. The Black-Bass............... Dr. J._A. Henshall, Author of ithe Book of the Black Bass,” “Camping and Cruising in Florida,” etc. The Tarpon __..........- eee aldeman, Proprietor The Louisville Courier- Journal, The Striped Bass. ..........- Francis Endicott, Anglin: nel Editor Outing Mapazing: The Bluefish............. Prof, G. Brown Goode, Assistant Secretary ‘Ihe Smithsonian Insti- tution, and author of ‘‘American Fishes” etc. The MuskKallonge..........-.. Dr. J. A. Henshall and A. A, Mosier, The Brook Trout....F.H. Thurston (‘‘Kelpie”’). Trouting on the Nipigon.. .W. H. H. Murray, Auth hor oe “Daylight L nd, "Adirondack Tales. The pani Sfountain Trout. sieves -G. O. Shields (“Coquina”). The Mackinaw Trout...... Rev. Luther Pardee. Sea Bass, Sea Trout, Spanish Mackerel zerouper, Mangrove Snapper, Sheepshead, and other Southern Fishes............ ... S.C. Clarke, Sathorn ot “Wishes of the Atlantic Coast,”etc. The Grayling.............4+ F. H. Thurston. The Wall ‘Eyed Pike. A Mosier. The Pickerel........ W. D. Tomlin. The White Per Stahl siotalsoetena ats Fred. Mather, ch. Late Angling Editor Forest and Stream, and member of United States and New York State Fish Commissions. The Yeliow Bass, White Bass, Strawberry Bass, ock Bass, Crappie, Sunfish, Yellow Perch, and other minor ites CC ee Oe of Searcopala of Fishes of North America, id “Science Sketches,” etc. The-Senses of Fishes . ew illian C. Harris, Editor The American An; Fishing Tackle, and How to foie It J. Beero tou Reels, Their Use and aust . ilam: The Angler’s Camp Outfit . eG oe shields: This book will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by RAND, McNALLY & CO., 162 to 172 Adams St., Chicago. ry BY THE SAME AUTHOR. THE BATTLE OF THE BIG HOLE A History of Gen. Gibbon’s Engagement with the Nez Perce Indians, in the Big Hole Basin, Montana, August 9, 1877. 12mo. 150 Pages, Profusely Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00. Read the following indorsment of the book from General Gibbon: HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE COLUMBIA, : VANCOUVER BARRACKS, W. T., August 11, 1889. Mr. G. O. SH1ELDs, Chicago, ILI. DEAR Sir: I was very much pleased with your account of the Big Hole fight, and I believe your statement of the facts are all correctly given. The book is well written and handsomely printed and bound. The likenesses are all good and easily recognizable. If I were to criticise your book ut all, I should say that your comments on the story are somewhat too complimen- tary to myself. I thank you for pacing on record, ir a permanent shape, such a satis- factory account of the battle. ~ x Very truly yours, JOHN GIBBON. And this from Captain Coolidge: : Came Pitot Butrz, Wyoming, March 17, 1889. Mr. G. O. SHIELDS, Chicago, lll. p : DEARSiIR: Ihave read witha great deal of interest and pleasure the manuscript of your_book, entitled "The Battle of the Big Hole,” and as a participant in the tragic affair it describes can cheerfully commend ic to all who are interested in obtaining a true history of the Nez Percé campaign. It is a graphic and truthfulaccount of the Big Hole fight, and of the events leading up to it, and must prove a most valuable contribution to the history of our Indian wars. I trust the book will meet with the generous reception it deserves. Yours truly, Cuas. A. COOLIDGE, Capt. 7th U.S. Infty. “It is good to recall from time to time the gallant conduct of our sol- diers in the West, and Mr. Shieldsisto be thanked for refreshing people’s memories in regard to this important event.”—New York Times. . “Ytisa graphic eter of Indian warfare, and the author is to be thanked for the manner in which he has again brought to remembrance the story of a battle in which the brave and historic Seventh Infantry won a great renown. The book is a valuable addition to the history of the Great West.” —Chicago Herald. “Ttisan exciting history of Gen. Gibbon’s engagement with the Nez Percé Indians. Itisa well-told story, printed in large, clear type, with many portraits of the actors in the contest.”—Chicago Inter Ocean. “In the battle of the Big Hole, Mr. G. 0. Shields (Coquina) gives an exceedingly interesting description of one of the most desperate fights in the history of our Indian wars. e gives his readers a very accurate idea of some of the hardships necessarily endured in such Western campaigns, and takes occasion to eulogize, in no faint terms, the American soldier in gen- rae and General John Gibbon in particular.”—Journal of the Military Serv- ice Institution. This book will be mailed, post-paid,on receipt of price by RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, CHICAGO, , BY THE SAME AUTHOR. Hunting in the Great West. (Rustiings In the Rockies:) 12mo Cloth. Over 300 Pages, Illustrated. Price, 75 Cents. TENTH EDITION LATELY ISSUED. C-O-N:-T-E:N'T:S. PART I. RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. PART Il. IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. PART Ill. TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. PART (\V. THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. PART Vv. MISCELLANEOUS. “Lovers of all kinds of sport will be charmed with these pages. The author tells the story of his various hunting experiences in such a genial, modest, pleasant manner that you are very sorry when the book comes toanend. You unconsciously catch the hunting fever, and feel like packing up rod and gun and starting away to the mountains. ‘‘For those whom stern fate confines to the boundaries of civilization—who lack the time necessary for interviewing the bear, the elk, and the antelope im their native homes, there is nothing better or more entertaining than a perusal of Mr. Shields’ book. “If you can not rustle in the Rockies, you can read ‘Rustlings in the Rockies,’ which is the next best thing.”"— Belford's Magazine. “Tt is one of the most apa een ae Sra ta works on field sports extant. There are many fine things in the book, but Mr. Shields’ description of the death of the great elk is‘a masterpiece in its line, and stamps the author as a writer of rare narra- tive power.”—The American Field. ‘“We have received a copy of Mr. Shields’ book, ‘Hunting in the Great West,’ and confess to the reading of every word of it. We were sorry when we reached the last page, and hope this gifted writer will soon favor the world with other books on field sports."—The American Angler. ‘‘ An intensely interesting work. It should occupy a place in every sportsman’s library.”’— Outing. “*Hunting in the Great West’ must prove both interesting and instructive to every lover of field sports.”"— Chicago Times. ee will occupy a prominent place in the literature of the chase.”—New York Herald. “A thoroughly readable and enjoyable work.”’"—Chicago Tribune. “Tt.is a captivating volume on out-door sports and adventures. One of the good points of the author is his devotion to the cause of protecting game and fish by proper laws. * * * * The volume is highly entertaining, and is full of incidental information. For hunter and fisherman it constitutes a feast.” — Cincinnati Commercial. The book will be mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price by RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, CHICAGO, "W104 MON puke OSBdIND ‘sioysiiqnd “OO ® ATIVNOW ‘GNVY ‘CaLVULSNTTI ATASNAOU va ae Sar ae ae ‘NEWSLYOdS DNANIWOUd A NOLL SHIOILAV WO SHIuHS V wBUPOOYY LAT PILM,, Jo coyINY (@0810H) TTEMONIS4S71 JONUA WVITTIIM 4q peypa WVSYLS GNV HSYHVW ‘GNV1dN NO SNILOOHS ‘WILD FOWL SHOOTING WILLIAM BRUCE LEFFINGWELL. TREATS OF Guns, Decoys, Blinds, Boats, * Retrievers, FOR WILD FOWLING. This Book has never Received an Adverse Criticism. First Edition of 1,000 Copies sold in less than 30 Days. Endorsed by Every Prominent Sportsman and Sporting Paper in America. DR. N. ROWE, of American Field, the leading authority in America, says: Frank Forester has the reputation of having been the best writer on field sports we ever had, but he never wrote a work of such enduring merit as this. I consider it the best book on field sports ever written. : Forest and Stream; Shooting and Fishing; Outing; Tur, *, Field, and Farm; Breeder and Sportsman; Sports Afield; Sporting Goods Gazette; Charles W. Budd; James R. Stice; H. McMurchy, and hundreds of others, endorse it as the best work on the subject extant: F Write for Descriptive Circular to RAND, MCNALLY & CO., CHICAGO, ILL. Price, $2.50 Cloth ; $3.50 Half Morocco. THe Universal Base Bal Gui Being the most comprehensive collection of information about the National Game ever before printed between the covers of one book. It Contains Special Articles on the Leading Points of the Game FROM THE PENS OF A. G. Spalding, Frank H. Brunell, Chas. A. Comiskey, F. H. Carroll, N. Fred. Pfeffer, William E. (Buck) Ewing, Timothy J. Keefe, E N. Crane, Wm. A, Sunday, W. atham, Mark E, Baldwin, Ed. Hanlon, James A. Hart, C. A. ‘Weidenfeller, and other prominent exponents. Also the full and complete schedules, players’ averages, etc., of the leading associations in the field for the coming season, as well as carefully collected data-touching the personnel and games of every pro- fessional base-ball organ. zation now before the country. By John C. Eckel and Frank Connelly, OF THE CHICAGO TIMES. OFFICIALLY ENDORSED. Bound in Handsome Paper Cover. Illustrated. Price, 50 Cents. DLOTIeS Of the Base Ball Field The National Game’s Great Exponents and their Methods, TOGETHER WITH THE NATIONAL PLAYING RULES GOVERNING ALL CLUBS PARTY TO THE NATIONAL AGREEMENT. AN ENTERTAINING COLLECTION OF DRESSING-ROOM YARNS AND HUMOROUS INCIDENTS IN THE LIVES OF NOTED PLAYERS. BY HARRY PALAER, Correspondent of the Philadelphia Sporting Life, and Press Representative with the “Around the World Tour” of the Chicago and All-American Teams. Bound in Handsome Illustrated Paper Cover. Price, 35 Cents. For Sale by all Booksellers. Sent prepald on recelpt of price.. RAND, MCNALLY & Co., PUBLISHERS, CHICAGO AND NEW YORK. RAND, McNALLY & 60.’S POCKET MAPS OF FOREIGN COUNTRIES. Afghanistan, Indexed (are COVED) os cecben ts coet cde cnesace ten esses w2s-8) Africa, in three sheets, two being 21 x14 inches, and one 14x11 inches, and showing plans of cities of Algiers and Tunis -..-._--...--.------.- Alaska, 37 x 30 inches RRB A UE TCR a pian i cn mim ci mp tim ie Australia and New Zealand, with plans of Sydney and Pt. Jackson, 2ixi4in ue Baneeae Monarchy, with plan of Vienna, 21x 14 inches -.... ne Belgium and The Netherlands, with plan of Brussels, 21x14 inches - British America (Dominion of Canada), 21 x 14 inches. -.......--. 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A full line of Maps of the States and Territories in U. 8. and of Foreign coun- tries, on a large scale; also, of Modern Geographical, Classical, Political, Physical, Astronomical, Biblical, Anatomical and Biological Atlases, Globes and Map Racks, kept in stock. ‘ RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, THE RIALTO SERIES The books of this series are all works of special merit, and are either copyright productions of American authors, or noteworthy writings of foreign authors. They are bound in neat and modest paper covers, at 50 cts. each; and most of them also in tasteful cloth bindings, with gold back and side titles, at $1.00 each, postpaid. The paper spries, being entered at the Chicago Post Office, is mailable at one cent a pound, The Dream (Le Reve). By E. Zoua. Illustrated. Paper and cloth. The Iron Master (Le Maitre de Forges). By GzEorGcEs OmNET. Iilus- trated. Paper and cloth. The Blackhall Ghosts. By Saran TYTLER. The Immortal, or one of the “‘Forty”’ (L’Immortel). By A. DauDET. 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By Lupovic HALevy, with Thirty-six Tlustra- tions by Madeleine Lemaire, Double number. Half morocco, gilt top, $2.00. Ned Stafford’s Experiences in the United States. By Parr MILForp. The New Prodigal. By STEPHEN PauL SHEFFIELD. Pere Goriot. By HonoRE DE Bauzac. Half Morocco, $1.50. A Strange Infatuation. By Lewis Harrison. Illustrated. Journal of Marie Bashkirtseff. Only unabridged edition published. Cloth, $2.00; half morocco, $3.50. Numa Roumestan. By A. DaupeET. Illustrated. Half Morocco, $1.50. LATER LISTS CAN BE HAD ON APPLICATION. Rand, McNally & Co., Publishers, CHICAGO. 323 Broadway, NEW YORK. << \ SS \ S