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‘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.
882 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
into a feeling of security, and I crawled to within about
fifty yards of them. The majority of them had gone to
feeding. Several of the lambs—gay, sprightly little creat-
ures—were skipping and gamboling merrily about, just as
you have seen domestic lambs play in a pasture-field.
Some of the older animals were engaged in the more
serious occupation of love-making. Two lusty old rams
became involved in a quarrel over a demure-looking ewe,
whom both seemed anxious to captivate. As one of them
moved toward her, the other, which was a few feet in the
rear, made a vicious rush at him, and striking him on the
port quarter, sent him spinning and reeling a distance of
twenty feet or more. This was the signal for open hostili-
ties. The jealous rivals squared away, faced each other,
and prepared for war. For amoment they stood sullenly
eying each other, their manes erect and their eyes flashing
fire. Then, as if at a given signal, they lowered their
heads and charged each other with all the force and fury
of mailed knights in the lists. Their massive horns came
together with a shock that seemed sufficient to grind them
to splinters, and to dislocate the necks of the angry beasts;
but they simply reeled, staggered, shook their. heads, and
then slowly backed off, until thirty or forty feet apart, for
another encounter. Both now seemed more savage and
desperate than before. They snorted, groaned, and pawed
the ground in their rage. By this time most of the herd
had gathered about to watch the battle. They formed
almost a perfect ring around the contestants, and seemed as
deeply interested in the fight as are the toughs who gather
to watch a human slugging-match.
Again the burly foes went at each other with the speed
of race-horses, and met with the same terrific shock as
before. The sound of their clashing horns could have been
heard a mile. The animals were evenly matched in size,
and the contest was bitterly waged. Each round consisted
of a single assault, and as the belligerents became heated
and blown, the waits between the acts were prolonged, each
requiring time to recuperate for the next onset. Both were
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 383
now bleeding profusely at nose and ears, and apparently
suffering great pain. Yet the terrible blows were given and
received with as great spirit and as unwavering courage as
at first. Finally, after a dozen or more rounds had been
fought, both.rams began to stagger and totter on their feet.
Still, there was no indication as to which would be the
victor.
‘At this stage of the game, a restless partisan of one of
the contestants made a rush at the other, and striking him
squarely on the shoulder, knocked him down. No sooner
had he dealt the blow, than he in turn received a counter-
charge, from a champion of his victim, that sent him to
grass. These two then squared for each other, and the
fight at once became four-cornered. Shock after shock
resounded over the hills, and the sound of the blows was
like that made by powerful men breaking rocks with great
sledge-hammers.
Finally, the original pair drew off, neither having
strength nor inclination to pursue the other; each stagger-
ing and reeling as if each step must be his last. The fresh
combatants hammered away at each other until they in
turn began to falter. But these were not so well paired as
the others, the one that first entered the lists for his friend
not being the equal of his antagonist in strength or staying
qualities. At every onset he was driven back, and more
than once was forced to his knees by the superior weight
and strength of his adversary. At last he was thrown
backward with such force that he fell prostrate on his side.
His antagonist followed up the advantage thus gained, and
when the unfortunate creature attempted to rise, struck
him a fearful blow that laid him out, to all appearances
stone-dead. The victor then walked away with his head
up, and thus the battle was ended. The vanquished ram
soon recovered, partially, and slowly regaining his feet,
staggered away and left the herd.
Talk about your ancient battering-rams, your modern
Columbiads, and your Zalinski dynamite-guns! Give me
half a dozen of these wild battering-rams, lariated and
384 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
trained to the work, and I'll take a contract to knock down
the walls of Jericho in seven minutes, by the watch.
I had followed up this band with the intention of kill-
ing one or more of them; but these old rams, by their great
courage, fortitude, and consequent suffering, had won
immunity from my rifle, and I allowed them to go their
way in peace. There were no others in the herd that I
cared for, so I went in quest of another band.
In the afternoon, I went to a large park that lay about a
mile to the southeast. Crawling to the top of a ridge,
whence I could command a good view of the entire prairie,
and peering over, I saw a bunch of six Sheep lying down,
very near where I had killed the ewe the day before. There
were two rams in the lot—one two-year-old, and one large
one with a fine pair of horns. I decided to shoot at the
two-year-old first, and take the chances on the old ram
afterward.
I supposed that after the first shot they would jump up
and stand for a moment, as they usually do, trying to
determine whence the report came, before running. In
order to get within easy range, I had crawled to the same
big fir-tree from which I had shot the day before, and draw-
ing a coarse bead on the shoulder of the young ram, fired.
They all sprung to their feet, and started at once for the
precipice beyond, which seemed to be their place of refuge
at all times when alarmed.
The two-year-old fell dead after making two or three
bounds, but the remaining five were going like the wind.
I took.a running-shot at the old patriarch just as they
reached the jumping- -off place, and as he disappeared I saw
a hind leg swinging from side to side, like the pendulum of
a clock, but rather faster. I followed them down the steep
mountain-side a short distance, and looking carefully ahead
of me through the brush and rocks, I saw the big, dark
eyes of the wounded ram glaring at.me over a ledge of
rocks, not more than a hundred feet below. He had
apparently stopped and turned to see what it was that had
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. - 885
struck him. His great, heavy, rolling horns loomed up
over the ledge as if they had been carved there from the
native granite.
But I had no time to admire the picture. Quick asa
flash, the heel-plate of the rifle was at my shoulder; I saw
amomentary glimmer of a speck of gold between his eyes,
- and instinctively my finger pressed the trigger. ButasI
did_.so, I saw his head suddenly swing to the right, and I
knew I had missed him. He had seen enough of me, and
had sprung away in flight. But, quick asa flash of light-
ning, the lever has swung down and back to place! Click—
ock—click! The bright speck again gleamed on a fleeting
patch of gray hair—and bang! The mountain breeze
quickly drove the smoke aside, but this did not enable me
to see the game. It was gone—hidden in the labyrinth of
junipers, jack-pines, firs, and rocks. I sprang out on an
overhanging ledge, and strained my eyes, peering into the
jungle. I could not yet see him, but could hear him. Now
he is down, and seems to be inthe death-throes. Hear the
small rocks rattle away down the mountain-side—a perfect
shower of them! He has dislodged them in his struggles.
But hark! he is up again, and is making off. His progress
is slow and difficult, and I can hear him fall every minute
or two. Buthe is getting away, diagonally down and along
the mountain-side. Look! there is an open space, away
ahead, in the direction he is going. If he passes through
it; I may get another shot. Sure enough, there he is in the
edge of it, and nearly five hundred feet below me! He has
stopped; he reels, staggers, and seems ready to lie down;
but I will not risk it. I will-give him another shot. Flash!
bang! Now will you stop? Yes; he is down. But see!
there he goes again! He is dead this time, though, and is
rolling, tumbling, heels over head, end over end, down the
almost perpendicular mountain-side. Where on earth will
he stop? Now he is out of sight again in the thicket.
Crash! thump! rattle-te- bang ! he still goes. Now at last
the noise has ceased; but has he stopped, or is he so far
away that I can’t hear it? Shall Igo down and see? And
25
386 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
if I ae, can I ever get back up here?- Well, I'll ae
that.
; It required no effort to go down, but it did require. call
my strength to keep from going so fast as to break my neck
and all the rest of my bones. I had to hang on to every
bush, tree, and projecting rock that I could get hold of, and
let myself down with one until I could reach another.
Finally, after descending about six hundred feet, I found
the object of my pursuit hanging to a small fir-tree. One
of his horns had fortunately caught the tree, completely
encircled it near the ground, and held him securely. It
required all my strength to release him and get him in
position for dressing. If he had not caught on this or some
other friendly tree, he would doubtléss have gone into Ash-
anola Creek, fully two thousand feet below, before stop-
ping. The ball I fired at him when looking at me had cut
the tip of one horn as he swung his head; the next had
passed through his flanks; and the third through both
shoulders.
‘And now arose another serious question—Could I get
the game, or any portion of it, to camp ? It would seem to
require all the skill and all the power of the most expert
Alpine-climber to scale that mountain-side without any
‘ incumbrance. But I said to myself that I would take the
head of the Sheep to camp or stay with it till the Indian
should come to hunt me. So I cut it off, skinning the neck
back to the shoulders, and started with it. Then I bethought
me that there was too much meat there to be wasted;
so I turned back and dressed the carcass, that we might
come after it next day, if I sucéeeded in getting to
camp with the head. I now tied a piece of quarter-inch
rope tothe horns, forming a large loop of it, and putting it
over my shoulders, so as to swing the head well up on my
back, began the terrible ascent. I used my heavy rifle as
an Alpine-stock, and with the other hand caught every
‘bush, tree, and rock that could afford me any help, pull-
ing myself up foot by foot and inch by inch. Once I
caught hold of a currant-bush that grew in shallow soil on
CAMPWARD BOUND
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 387
top of a bed of rock, and was raising myself by it, when -
its roots let go their slight hold, and I fell backward. I
should have gone, no one knows how far, down the fearful
declivity, even as my victim had lately gone, had I not
fortunately caught a strong juniper-shrub that stood near.
This friendly shrub was the means of my living to tell this
story.
‘I was compelled to stop every few minutes torest. I
would throw myself prostrate on any shelving rock or
friendly bit of level earth that was large enough to hold
me, and lie there like a dead man until I could recover
sufficient -breath and strength to resume my way. I fre-
quently had to jump from point to point of projecting
rocks, across open chasms which I could cross in no other
way, and which there was no means of going around.
Finally, after an almost superhuman struggle of more
than two hours, I reached the top of the mountain, and fell
on the soft grass in the park, more dead than alive. My
clothing was wet with perspiration, though the temperature
was far below the freezing-point. I lay there until I began
to feel the pangs of cold and hunger; then I went and got
the good, faithful old horse, Blue, who was picketed in the
woods a few hundred yards away, lashed the Sheep-head on
my riding-saddle, and led him to the camp. It was dark
when I reached there, and Charley had a good, hot dinner
of mountain mutton-chops, boiled potatoes, baked beans,
and hot bread awaiting me. Did Ieat? Well, you would
not believe it if I told you how much J ate, and if you want
to know, the best thing you can do is to go out there and
try it for yourself.
I could find no better hunting-ground than the same
park, and went back to it early the next morning. Sure
enough, there was another small band of Sheep. I picked
out a large, fat ewe this time, and killed her. Then fora
running-shot I selected a lamb. I broke his hind leg, also,
and he started down the hill, just as the ram had done the
day before. I followed, and found him lying down just
below the edge of the prairie. Another ball through the
888 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
heart finished him, and it was but a few minutes’ work to
carry him back to the level ground. Then I took a seam-
less grain-bag that I had brought for the purpose, went
down and cut off all the best meat from the ram, and
brought it up. The task was equally as severe as that of
bringing up the head; but I never waste meat when it is
possible to save it.
I brought old Blue to the front again, and with great
difficulty succeeded: in loading the ewe onto him and cinch-
ing it down. Then I put the bag of meat and the lamb on;
and just as I had finished packing and cinching the load,
I heard a snort, and looking in the direction whence it
came, I saw a large ram standing looking at me, not more
than fifty yards away. I had not expected to need my rifle
on my way to camp, and had packed it in with the load. I
seized it by the stock, and after tugging frantically at it for
a minute or two, brought it out; but my visitor had con-
cluded that he had seen all he cared to see of the outfit, and
had taken a header down the mountain-side. We had now
all the meat, heads, and skins our horses could carry, and
returning to camp, made preparations to start home the
next morning.
Anyone who may wish to visit the Ashanola country will
find the route I took perhaps the easiest, shortest, and
most pleasant—z. e., by way of the Northern Pacific Rail-
road to Spokane Falls, Washington; thence by team to
Loomis’ ranch, and from there by saddle and pack animals.
It is about two hundred and twenty-five miles from Spo-
kane to the hunting-grounds; but the trail leads through
an interesting and beautiful country all the way, and, when
once reached, the mountains along Ashanola Creek are, as
I have already said, unquestionably the finest Sheep-range
remaining on:the continent. Deer are also there in count-
less numbers. We never saw less than twenty-five or
thirty in a day, and one day we counted seventy-two. We
were not hunting them. If we had been, we could, of
course, have found a great many more. But I hope thatno
man will ever be so unmanly as to go there and slaughter
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 889
game for the mere sake of sport, and then allow it to be
wasted. Never kill more than you can take care of.
The Sheep are not nearly so plentiful there now as they
were five years ago, and probably five years hence it will
be difficult to find half a dozen in a week’s hunting. ‘‘ Pass-
ing away’’ is written over the gate-way to this hunter’s
paradise, as it is over that leading to all hunting-grounds
on this continent; and let no man hasten the time of the
extinction of the Rocky Mountain Sheep more than is com-
mensurate with his needs in the way of reasonable sport
and of trophies for preservation.
THE PECCARY.
By A. G. Requa.
HE Peccary, or South American Musk-hog, is found
in large herds in Old Mexico, and sometimes as far
north as Arizona and Southern Texas. The largest
ee? herds, however, are to be found in the interior of
Old Mexico.
In appearance, this animal resembles the common hog,
but differs from it in many ways. The flesh of the Peccary
is good to eat; but it is necessary to remove the dorsal pipe,
or gland, immediately after killing, otherwise the meat
will taste of the secretion which is found on its back, near
the loin. The gland is about the size of a small orange,
and contains an odorous matter smelling like musk; hence
the name, Musk-hog. When they become angry, the odor
emitted is very strong.
There are two species of Peccary found in North Amer-
ica. The common, or Collared Peccary, is about the size of
a small hog; the bristles on the neck are longer, forming a
mane, while a narrow, white collar surrounds the neck.
The White-lipped Peccary is considerably larger, and of
a darker color, with conspicuously white lips. The ears,
which are short, and stand erect, are almost covered with
‘the mane. The tail is not readily visible, but may be found
on close inspection. It is flat, and only abont two inches
long. The male and female resemble each other closely.
Once a year the female brings forth one or two young, of a
- uniform reddish tint.
The White-lipped Peccary is found in large herds, usu-
ally led by a male. When one of the herd is alarmed, he
makes a signal by stamping with his feet, which is at once
repeated by all the rest. They are then on their guard. If
: (391)
WI
892 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
one of their number is wounded so that-it squeals, the
whole herd becomes ferocious, will charge their enemy
on sight, and speedily destroy him, unless he escapes by
climbing a tree or by flight. It has been stated by old
hunters that if the leader of the band is killed, the rest will
take to flight, while they will not do so though many of the
common herd be killed. This is contrary to all the experi-
ence I have ever had with them. They feed almost indis-
criminately on animal or vegetable substances, but it may
be considered that roots and grains form their principal
nutriment.
Both varieties are gregarious. herds of from two to
three hundred being sometimes found i in the far Southwest.
Where only a few are found together, the Mexican ranch-
men sometimes hunt them with dogs, but never when a
large herd is known to be in the country; for no ordinary ,
pack of dogs could live long in a contest with one of these
armies of savage, fearless brutes. The Wild Boar, the
European congener of the Peccary, furnishes exciting sport
when pursued by hounds; but a single one of these animals
will often kill several valuable dogs before himself yielding
to the combined attacks of the pack; and though the Pec-
cary is not nearly so large or so powerful, and though not
armed with the great tusks of the Boar, yet he is equally
ferocious, and when congregated in such great numbers,
they wage a most bitter and bloody war on any foe by
whom they may be attacked.
Hunting the Peccary in Old Mexico is certainly excit-
ing enough for the average hunter. In the fall of 1880, I
left Hermosilla, the capital of the State of Sonora, with a
Mexican guide, to prospect in the Sierra Madre Mountains.
We had two pack-animals, two saddle-horses, and enough
provisions to last forty days, except meat. Our route lay
directly across the mountains. We were well armed, my
guide carrying a Long Tom, or Needle-gun, anda pair of
Colt’s revolvers, while I had a pair of 44 Colt’s and a 82-40
Marlin repeater (which rifle, by the way, is my favorite for
small game).
AT BAY.
THE PECCARY. 393
. The first night out I was lucky enough to kill a large
Mule Deer, but it proved to be poor. The next day we
only traveled about twenty-seven miles, and camped at a
small spring, well up in the mountains. We saw numbers
of doves, and after we got our horses staked out I shot the
heads off several of them, and we had a Spanish stew,
which was very fine. Near the spring, we noticed well-
beaten trails made by the Peccaries coming there for water.
My guide insisted on going up the mountain to capture one
of them, but I would not listen to it, knowing the danger
there is in attacking a drove of them on their way to water.
Early the next morning, we packed, and started just as
the sun was showing over the mountains. We had trav-
eled about five miles, when my guide pointed to the oppo-
site side of the cafion, we were traveling in, and about
three hundred yards distant I saw a large herd of Peccaries
feeding. We stopped, and my guide being anxious to have
a shot, took the Long Tom, and after raising the sights to
the proper distance, took deliberate aim, resting his gun on
a rock, and fired directly into the center of the bunch. At
the report of the gun they threw up their heads, and seemed.
to wonder where the noise came from. The ball struck too
high. The next shot was better, striking near the center
of the herd; but they only gathered closer together and
snuffed the air. The third shot struck a rock, and the ball
whizzing through the air seemed to frighten them, for they
started down the cafion and were soon out of sight. We
then remounted and resumed our journey.
_There was water where we stopped at noon, so we stayed
late; and after filling our canteens and giving our animals
another drink, we traveled until ten o’clock at night, and
then madea dry camp. Next morning we were off before.
daylight, so we could reach water before our animals got
_too thirsty. We reached the Yaqui River, which flows
south and empties into the Gulf of California. Here we
camped near a settlement of the Yaqui Indians where we
got some fresh goat’s milk and some fine cactus-fruit, of
which there are several kinds growing on this river.
394 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
The Yaqui Indians speak the Spanish language poorly,
and are but half-civilized. They cultivate small fields, and
plow with a forked stick. Sometimes the women pull the
stick intended for a plow, and sometimes a burro or small
jack furnishes the motive power. We learned from
the natives that there was a small insurrection going on,
down the river, between some of the Mexicans and Yaqui
Indians. I afterward learned that such things occurred
every time they had a good crop of beans. So, deciding
not to go into the mountains until things got more settled,
we moved up the river ten miles, near an Indian settlement,
and prepared to stay a week or two. The first two days
were spent fishing and picking fruit, which grows in great
abundance on the many kinds of cactus which are to be
found in the vicinity of this river.
The mammoth cactus grows here in great abundance, and
the novel‘way hunters have of picking this fruit would sur-
prise many of our Eastern friends. This cactus grows from
fifty to one hundred feet high, being about three to four
feet in diameter, and having one or two limbs, which are
the same size of the body. The top is as large as any part
of the body, and right.on the top is where the fruit grows.
In some instances, fifty or more blossoms come out. When-
the fruit is ripe it looks and tastes much like a black mul-
berry. Each berry is protected by a kind of husk which
stands up around it. The fruit is about three inches long
and one inch in diameter. The only way to get this fruit is
with the rifle, unless you cut the whole tree down; but with
the rifle it can be had easily. The top of the tree, under
the fruit, is soft and spongy. The trees usually grow on
the side of the mountain, which is quite steep. By climb-
ing up the mountain, opposite the top of the tree, you can get
within fifty feet of the fruit, and directly opposite it; then,
by firing eight or ten shots from your rifle, you may cut the
whole top off, and down comes the most delicious fruit that
man ever ate. We called it picking fruit with the Marlin.
The second day we were at this camp, a native came to us
and tried hard to buy my rifle. He told us the Peccaries
THE PECCARY. 395
had destroyed all his crop, and he wanted to join the insur-
rection; he said that was the only way he could get any-
thing to eat, since his crop had been destroyed. I induced
him, by offering him a small sum of money and all the Pec-
caries he could use, to show us where to find them. Next
morning he was at our camp, mounted on a burro, and we
were soon off. Going up the river three miles, then turn-
ing toward the mountains and following up a-cafion, we
came to his casa and a small field which he had irrigated
from a spring farther up the cafion. He said he was always
bothered with the Peccaries, but had managed to raise a
crop until this time, when they became so bold as to come
to the field in broad daylight.
We followed up this cafion, finding lots of trails, showing
that there were large bodies of the Peccaries together. We
traveled directly up the main cafion about four miles, then
followed a well-beaten trail which turned up a small side
cafion. After following this trail two miles, it seemed as if
they had scattered, and everything indicated that we had
reached their feeding-grounds. The ground was rooted up
in every direction. We had been steadily climbing since we -
left the river, and must now have been three thousand feet
above its bed. The country was more level, and was covered
with underbrush, cactus, and a few trees. We were on the
second bench of the table-lands, which is usually the home
of the Peccary.
As we rode out from the cafion on this almost level land,
we could see for miles away, but were unable to see any
of our game, the brush being about five feet high on an
average. The Yaqui had said but little since we started up
the last cafion, and as we got on top of this bench he
stopped and refused to go any farther, saying the Peccaries
were there—meaning in the brush—and that he would go
back in the cafion, get in a tree, and wait for us to come
back. I knew what the matter was; he was getting scared.
He then told us there had been two Yaquis eaten by the
Peccaries, near there, a year ago, and that the way to get
them was to wait until they came down for water, and then
396 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
kill them from the sides of the cafion. I began to think
that way myself, but my guide was wild to get a shot at
them, so we left our Indian and pressed on through the
brush; but our progress was slow, as the brush became
thicker. I was in the lead, when all at once my horse
stopped and began to snort; then for the first time I real-
ized the dangerous ground we were on, for the best time we
could make through the brush was a walk. My horse kept
snorting, and at last I saw, not more than ten feet from me,
a dead Peccary, partially eaten. We rode up a little closer,
and discovered that it had just been killed. Getting off my
horse, I observed tracks made by the Silver Lion, or Cougar.
I then knew we were on dangerous ground, as the Lion
could not be far off. I got on my horse, and took my rifle in
my hand, just as I heard a fierce growl come from the brush
directly in front of us. My horse was behaving badly, and
I could not get. sight of the Lion. I told my guide to ride
up by my side and take his revolver in his hand, putting
his Long Tom in the case. I did the same; then we both
rode straight toward where the noise came from. We gota
_ glimpse of the Lion as he ran through the brush, and both
fired at him. We could hear him traveling through the
brush, and pretty soon saw him spring up on a rock about
two hundred yards away, and face around to get a good
look at us. This was my chance, and taking my Marlin
out of the case, I raised: the sights, slid off my horse, and
fired. My guide said I had not touched him, but I was
certain I had; and getting on my horse, we rode up to the
rock, and there lay our Lion, shot through the small of the
back. It proved tobe a small female. We took the skin,
and concluded to take the Indian’s advice; so we went back
and found him in a scrub-pine, and the jack feeding near
him. He had heard the shooting and got scared, thinking
the Peccaries would be after us. He seemed to be very
much afraid, so we started down the cafion to find water,
where we stopped and ate some lunch.
After letting our horses graze for an hour, we had just
started, when our Indian pointed to the mountain and then
THE PECCARY. 397
started down the cafion. Taking my field-glass, I could see
‘something coming down the trail. I told my guide to get
on his horse, but he would not. Pretty soon we could hear
the noise of their hoofs as they came down the mountain.
I saw there was only a small bunch of them, so I tied my
horse and got down behind a large rock near the trail.
Just then my guide fired and killed one. Then he fired
again, and down went another. Then I fired, but only
wounded one, and it began to squeal, when the rest of them
caught sight of my guide and went after him. Just then
the Long Tom,spoke again, and another one rolled over.
Now there were but three left, and they were not more than
twenty feet from me. I got two of them with my Marlin.
My guide had thrown down the Long Tom and drawn his
Colt’s revolver, when the only one left charged right at
him, and he killed it not more than two feet from the
muzzle of his revolver; making seven we had killed in that
many seconds.
We cut the musk or gland from two of the smallest, tied
them behind our saddles, and started down the cajion, well
pleased with our day’s hunt. We found our Indian at
home, and when we told him what we had done he seemed
surprised, as he expected us both to be eaten. We gave
him both the Peccaries, except the hams of one, and told
him to go and get the rest that night. We had fried Pec-
cary, fried fish, and fried quail for supper.
All that evening my guide begged me to go again next
day. When I told him there was lots of danger, he only
laughed, and said he would go alone if I would not go with
him. Next morning, I again tried to persuade him out of
the notion; but nothing would satisfy him, and at sunrise
he was off. It was the last I ever saw of poor Frank Yanso.
I put in the day fishing, and that night I watched and
waited all night for him, but no Frank came; so, early the
next morning I was in the saddle, riding up the river on
a swinging lope. It did not take me long to get to the
house of the Indian who had showed us the hunting-
ground two days before, and speaking in Spanish, I asked
398 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA.
him if my guide had been there. He said he had, at about
the same time the morning before, and tried hard to get
him to go with him, which he did as far as the mouth of
the cafion where we had killed the seven Peccaries. He had
got two on his burro, and came back, but Frank had gone
on up the same cafion, saying he was going to kill a Lion
himself. ‘
The Yaqui said he told him not to go, but it did no good.
Then I knew something had happened him; so I followed
up the cafion until I came to where the small cafion turned
off. I followed that, and came out where we had been two
days before. [rode directly to the rock I had shot the Mount-
ain Lion from, hitched my horse, and climbed up on the
rock. After looking in every direction, I saw a higher point
nearly a mile away. IJ went to that, making my way
through the underbrush as best I could, and had got near
‘the point when my horse suddenly raised his head and
whinnied. Looking straight ahead, and beyond the rocks,
I saw Frank’s horse tied to a small scrub-cedar. Riding to
him, I looked in every direction for Frank; then I called,
but no answer. I went to the rocks, and going on the
highest one, commenced looking with my field-glass. At
last I took the glass down, and was getting down from the
rocks when I saw the Long Tom lying near, on the ground.
I crawled down, and saw that the ground was all torn up
around there, with blood-marks and hundreds of tracks
made by the Peccaries; and looking further, I found small
pieces of clothing, and one of Frank’s revolvers. I also
noticed tracks of the Lion. Then I went back on the rocks,
examined closely, and found tracks of Peccaries on the
rocks. By this time my hair was standing nearly straight.
I got down, picked up the revolver and rifle, got on my
horse, untied the other one, and started back. It seemed
lonesome up there, and I got back to the Indian’s ranch as
soon as possible. When I told him what I had seen, he
seemed to think the Peccaries had done the work; but I
shall always believe it was the Lion. My opinion is that he
had hitched his horse and gone on the rocks to look for
THE PECCARY. 399
game; that he had shot at and probably wounded the Lion,
and it had killed him; that then the Peccaries came along
and ate the body. I think that if the Peccaries had killed
him, they would have tackled the horse, too, for they get:
very savage when they are excited.
Next day I learned that the natives expected the troops
to make a raid down the river; so I hired a native, packed
up, and left.
The next spring I was again in Hermosilla, and telling
my friends of my troubles, they suggested we make up a
party and try to get even with the festive pigs. They
said they knew where to find a large herd, within one day’ 8
travel; so it was decided to leave early the next morning.
There were four in the party, all armed with Marlin repeat-
ing-rifles and Colt’s revolvers. Each had a saddle-horse,
and we had two pack-animals. We got off at eight o’ clock,
and at ten that night we camped about forty miles from Her-
mosilla, well up in the mountains, on the bank of a small
stream fed by a spring near by.
Next morning we could see signs of our game, where
they had come for water. After getting something to eat,
we all started, leaving our horses. We kept together, fol-
lowing one of the many trails which led up the side of the
mountain. We had agreed to keep together, and not go in
the open country, but to keep near the trees, as that is the
only safe way where there are large herds. We had gone
about a mile when we came to fresh signs, which we fol-
lowed. The wind was favorable, so we had no fear that
they would scent us, and we soon came in sight of a large
herd. They were feeding near the top of a small divide,
and we watched them until the last one had passed over;
then, hurrying to the top, we could see them not more than
eighty yards distant.
I counted three, and we all fired. They gathered closer
together, near one that had been killed, when we gave them
another round, this time with better effect, as we saw two
drop; then. the firing became faster, and the Peccaries
400 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
seemed dazed. They stood around and snuffed the air,
while we emptied our rifles. While reloading, they seemed
to get sight of us for the first time, gave a snort, and down
the mountain they went. We fired at them until out of
sight, and on counting up, found we had killed eleven where
they stood and three while they were running.
We cut the hind quarters from four of the fattest, hung
them in some trees, and followed the herd, which it was
easy todo. The ground being soft, they made a good trail,
and after following them about a mile we saw them again,
feeding. We made a circuit around a small hill and got
close to them, but they broke at the first fire. However,
we had. good shots, as they ran close together, over compar-
atively open ground, and dispatched seven before they got
away. This was sport enough for one day, so we started
for camp.
That night we discussed the best plans for killing the
Peccaries, and concluded that we would try to get close to
them and near some trees; then one man could shoot and
cripple one of them; then let them smell us, and they would
come for us. We would then climb the trees, and while
they would try to gnaw the trees down we could kill the
whole herd, as it is a well-known fact that if they wind you
after one of them is crippled, they will charge you. Then,
the only show is to go up a tree or outrun them, which I
found, the following day, to be hard todo. We had deter-
mined to kill the whole herd if possible, though I now see
how foolish it was, as we had no use for them.
Early next morning we were off up the mountain, with
a hundred shells each, determined to kill all there were in
the herd, provided we could get them to charge us. As
before, we agreed to keep together and near the trees, there
being plenty of scrub-cedars growing on the sides of the
mountain. We went in the same direction we had gone
the first day, and going to where we killed the first ones, we
found one had been eaten and another carried off. We
saw by the tracks that this had been done by a Grizzly,
and some of the boys wanted to follow him; so we took a
THE PECCARY. 401
vote on it. Two were in favor of the proposition and two
opposed. At last they left it tome. Peccaries were large
enough game for me; so on we went, looking for fresh signs,
by which the Peccaries are easily found. Taking my field-
glass, I was able to see the opposite side of the cafion, a
mile away, and could see something moving. There were a
number of animate objects, but we could not decide what
they were, as they were soon out of sight. It was decided
that I should go down the cajion a mile, cross, and go up
the other side, and if I found them to be Peccaries, I was
to fire my revolver three times, so the others could join me;
if they were not Peccaries, we were to go up the cafion
until we found the game we were after, when the same
signal should be given by the party finding them.
I was not long in reaching the ground where I had seen
the objects, and soon found that what I saw was a large
drove of turkeys, instead of Peccaries. The turkeys in
-Mexico are smaller than our common wild turkey of the
North, and almost coal-black. I was anxious to get one;
so I followed the trail up the mountain, when all at once
up flew the whole flock. They had heard or seen me fol-
lowing them, and hid until I got right among them. One
of them lit in a tree near by, and I was not long in getting
him down. The rest of the flock flew down the mountain;
so I took the one I had killed and started down after them.
Frequently I would get a glimpse of one running, down
below me, and at last got another shot, but missed. Then
they all flew clear across the cajion. I watched them alight,
then sat down on a rock to rest, taking my coat off, for by
this time I was quite warm.
I had not sat there more than five minutes before I
heard the sharp noise of the Peccaries. They came in sight
not more than twenty yards below me. There were not
more than a dozen that I could see, and there were plenty
of small pines near by; so I thought I would just kill the
whole herd, provided they showed fight. As they came
into the open ground, they seemed to wind me, as they
began to snuff and paw. I fired at one, and, just as I
26
402 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
intended, only crippled him. He set up a great squealing,
and, sure enough, here they came! I was just a little
excited, and started for a tree, forgetting my coat and tur-
key. I had scarcely time to get up when they were around
the tree, and instead of twelve, they kept coming until
there were at least two hundred.
I commenced shooting, and killed five with my rifle,
that being the number of shells in my gun. It then
occurred to me that my rifle-shells were in my coat; so,
having no further use for my rifle, and realizing that it
would become a burden to me if compelled to stay in the
tree several hours, as seemed likely, I threw it down.
Fortunately, I had both revolvers, and a belt full of car-
tridges for them; so I wentatthem. They were chewing the
tree, and climbing over each other trying to get at me.
Each shot laid one out, and each shot seemed to make them
more and more furious, as they would rush at the tree, and
gnaw the bark and wood, while the white flakes of froth fell
from their mouths. All at once I remembered that my car-
tridges would soon run out, so I quit shooting and watched
them. When one would rear up and act as if he wanted to
climb the tree, I would give him a load; then they would rush
at the tree again, and bite and gnaw. I tried to count them,
and found that there were over two hundred left, and I had
killed twenty-three. The position I had was not a comfort-
able one, but I had to stand it. Then for the first time I
thought of the boys. Had they heard my shooting? If so,
would they come? Then I remembered I had not fired the
signal agreed on, and that I had followed the turkeys up
the mountain and down again, and by this time the boys
must be four miles up the cafion, and on the opposite side.
The Peccaries showed no signs of leaving. It was now
noon, and very warm. They would root around, then
come back to the tree, and grunt, and paw, and bite the
tree; then they would cool down a little, would go a short
distance away, root around awhile, then come back again.
I was getting tired of being treed, but it was just what we
had planned the night before, only we were not all together.
ONLY WAITING
THE PECCARY. 403
If the boys could only hear my firing, and come over, how
quick we would wipe them out.
Such thoughts ran through my head; but still the pigs
stayed. One o’clock came, then two; still they stayed.
Then I thought I would fire a signal with my revolver—may
be the boys were hunting for me; so I made a noise, and
back to the tree they came. I killed three of them in about
asecond; thenI waited. Three o’clock came, then four, and
no signs of the boys. Some of the pigs would feed while
others stood guard; then they would change off. I was so
tired I could scarcely stay in the tree; soI took my belt off
and buckled myself fast to the trunk, so that I would not
fall out. "
Seven o’clock! I could see no change; they still camped
near me, showing no signs of weakening. Then the sun
went behind the mountain; darkness came on, and I was
thirsty, hungry, and tired; but, worse than all, I was a pris-
oner. Twelve o’clock! The moon shone brightly, and I
could see my sentinels scattered around. Two o’clock!
Then came a signal from some of the’ outside ones; the rest
snuffed the air, then away they all went. I could hear them
far below, going down the mountain.
I then commenced to wonder what had started them all
at once. Was it a Grizzly or a Silver Lion? If either, I
was still in danger. I listened a few minutes, but could
hear nothing, see nothing; so I unloosed the belt and got
down, more dead than alive—so stiff and cramped that I.
could scarcely walk. I went first to where I left my turkey
and coat. The turkey had been eaten, and my coat had
been thoroughly chewed. I found a few cartridges scat-
tered around, and putting them in my rifle, I started for
' camp, where I arrived just at day-break. Two of the boys
were out on horseback, hunting for me.’ I was so tired I
could not stand, and after eating a little and having two
cups of strong coffee, I went to sleep. When I awoke, at
twelve o'clock, the boys had come in. They said after I
left them they had gone back and trailed the Grizzly six
miles into a deep canon, but failed to get sight of him. I
fo
404. BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
told them I had all the Peccaries I wanted, and was ready
to go back; so next day we packed, and rode into Hermo-
silla well satisfied. Hereafter, anyone who wants to hunt
Peccaries can hunt them and be blanked; but I prefer some
kind of game that is not so fond of human flesh as they
are.
THE COUGAR.
By W. A. Perry (‘‘SILLALIcUM”),
way HIS animal has the distinction of being called a
% mnnmber of. names. Like the African Lion, he isa
ferocious brute, almost similar to that animal in
color, and has the same trait of instantly killing
-his prey. He was originally, and still is in some localities,
called the American Lion. Among the people in the West-
ern States it was formerly called the Panther, and by com-
mon custom this name degenerated into ‘‘Painter.” In
New England it was sometimes called the Catamount. The
French in the early settlement of Louisiana called it Cougar,
and some of their naturalists, eager to make a little
notoriety, gave it the name of Carcajou, which really
belongs to the Glutton. Others called it by the outlandish,
unpronounceable name of Gouazoura, and if they could
have found a worse name they would doubtless have applied
it to this much-named creature. By the title of Puma,
given to it by the South Americans, and by the names of
California Lion and Mountain Lion, it is-generally known in
the United States.
This animal is similar in shape to the Mustela, its body
being long and slender, the legs short and stout. The head
is small when compared with the body, and is always
carried high. He is a rather proud chap, is our Cougar.
His color is silvery fawn, sometimes approaching to red
on the upper part of the body, the tawny hairs of the upper
parts being whitish at thetips. The belly and inside of the
legs are almost white, the head black and gray irregularly
mixed. The female is colored like the male. The Cougar
varies in length from eight and one-half to eleven feet, from
point of nose to tip of tail.
(405 )
406 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
The Cougar is the Tiger of the Occident, being the largest
of the cat kind found in the northern part of the Western
Hemisphere. His range extends from the Arctic Circle to
Patagonia, but east of the Rocky Mountains he is alto-
gether extirpated or extremely rare, except in the Southern
States. It is yet abundant in Northern California, Oregon,
Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska. It is especially
abundant in Northern Washington, along the Skagit and
Nooksack Rivers, the abundance of Deer, grouse, rabbits,
and fish in the streams, furnishing it with a never-failing
supply of food; and here it obtains its greatest development
in size.
Cougar and Young.
It is a subject of discussion among hunters as to the
number of young that the Cougar produces at a birth.
The naturalists state that the litters usually vary from
three to five, but from my own personal experience, and
from extensive inquiries among other hunters and trappers,
I can not corroborate this statement. I have never found
more than two kittens in a litter; and very pretty little
THE COUGAR. 407
creatures they are, spotted, and sometimes striped like the
turquoise-shell cat. The den they are born in is usually a
cave in the rock on the mountain-side, or a hollow tree in
some dense thicket. The Cougar is a very affectionate
mother, and will fight to the death in defense of her young.
The Cougar is stated by naturalists to be a nocturnal
animal, but in this they are also mistaken. He may be
nocturnal in a measure, but he is also diurnal, and seeks
his prey by day as well as night, as many a poor rancher
can testify, through losses of colts, sheep, calves, and cattle,
day-victims to this greedy marauder. Neither is it the
cowardly animal that the above-named gentlemen term it,
but it will fight boldly in defense of its young or its prey.
_In another place I will relate several instances where it has
attacked people in daylight, and, on the other hand, I have
never known it to attack a person at night.
The food of the Cougar consists of Deer, Elk, sheep,
hogs, birds, snails, fish, rabbits, rats, and mice. He is
very destructive, often killing, apparently, for the mere
delight of destroying. While I write this, my feet rest on
the skin of a Cougar that killed nineteen sheep the morn-
ing that his skin became mine. The Bear delights to feast
from the quivering flesh of its living prey, while the Cou-
gar will not begin its meal until its victim is dead, and that
death is usually instantaneous. A flash of lightning could
not be. more sudden in its work than is the leap of Felis
concolor. A swoop of that great, muscular paw, and if the
victim’s neck is not broken, the white, glistening, ivory
fangs cut through the neck and sever'the spinal cord. But
there are exceptions to this method, as in the case of fawns
and children. These the Cougar seizes and carries away as
a cat does a mouse. But the favorite food of the Cougar
appears to be horse-flesh, and the younger the colt, the more
to his taste. If the mare fight in defense of her colt, she
will also-become a victim, for the Cougar is a determined
brute, and only interference on the part of some powerful
enemy will divert him from his prey. I have known a
Cougar to kill a good-sized Indian pony and its colt, and
408 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
drag them across a meadow and over a high fence into the
adjoining woods. This seems almost incredible; but many
instances are on record, attested by indisputable evidence,
showing equally great feats of their strength.
I was a witness of a battle between a Jersey cow and a
Cougar, in which, however, the cow held her own. When I
first occupied my ranch on the Sumas, in 1877, the country
was a wilderness, there being only five inhabitants in the
_ township. I was the possessor of five Jersey cows, and
one after the other fell victims to what I supposed were
Grizzly Bears, until only one was left.. At last she disap-
peared, and I searched the woods far and near for two days,
but could find no trace of her. Early on the third morning
I was awakened by a loud bellowing, such as the cow only
makes when in extreme terror or distress. Hastily dress-
ing, I seized my rifle and ran up the hill into the fir grove
from whence the sounds came. Entering the grove, my
attention was at once attracted toa large Cougar, which was
slowly walking around the bellowing cow. She was backed
up against a large log, and a calf, apparently a day old,
was lying almost under the log, directly behind the cow.
Knowing that the Cougar could not escape me, I became
an interested spectator of the fight. Whenever the Cougar
approached too near, the cow, with a fearful bellow, would
charge the Cougar, which in turn would avoid her sharp
horns, and strike a heavy blow at her neck with his paw,
which the cow would dodge as quickly as it was given. I
could see that the Cougar intended to draw the cow away
some distance, and then rush up and seize the calf; but
the cow appeared to be aware of this design, as she would
only chase the brute a short distance, then return and take
her ‘position over her calf. At last the Cougar seemed
determined to end the battle. Walking to a convenient
distance for a spring, he crouched in front of the cow, but
as he was about to rise in the air, a Winchester bullet
entered his brain, and he fell, writhing in the throes of
death. The cow made a rush, planted her horns in the
: SURPRISED,
THE COUGAR. 409
prostrate animal, and gored and trampled him until I drove
her away.
At another time I was a witness of a Cougar seeking his
prey, but it was not of so large or so noble a species as
that Ihave just mentioned. One day, while shooting ducks
on a marsh near Sumas Lake, I saw a large animal going
through some eccentric motions, and drawing near, I saw it
was a Cougar trying to catch something that was concealed
beneath a cotton-wood log about ten feet long and three feet
in diameter. He would stand erect behind the log, and with
his paws would give it a heavy jerk, rolling the log a yard or
more, and at the same time would spring over it and strike
heavy blows, first with one paw and then with the other, at
some object on the ground. I watched him roll the log
over several times before he saw me, but when he did, he
beat a hasty retreat. Curious to know what he was trying
to catch, I, by the aid of a pole that I found near, rolled
the log over, and found—two mice. It was a most ridicu-
lous and awkward figure that the great brute made in try-
ing to catch his diminutive prey.
There is a popular fallacy to the effect that the Cougar
secures his prey by remaining concealed over some game-
trail, on the limb of a tree, and that by a sudden spring
from his secure elevation he seizes and strikes his prey dead.
In Washington it is usually atleast a hundred feet to
the first limb of the trees—a very inconvenient height for a
Cougar, or, in fact, for any living quadruped, to spring from.
I have tracked Cougars several times inthe snow, where
they were on the trail of Deer, and twice have found them
feasting on their quarry. In every case the mode of pro-
cedure had been the same. They had crept stealthily
behind the Deer until near enough, when, by a sudden -
spring, they had struck it down. Death in each case must
have been instantaneous, as they lay dead in their tracks,
and there was no sign of a struggle.
One of the few authentic instances of a Cougar seizing
a large animal is given by Mr. John Harkness, of Clear-
brook, Washington. One June evening, he went to drive
410 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
home his cows that pastured in a swamp near at hand.
This swamp was bordered by a belt of willows. When
he reached the willows, he learned, by the ringing of the
bells, that the cows were coming home. Seating himself on
a log, he awaited their coming. One by one they came
through the willow-bordered path, until the last one, a
yearling steer, stopped a few feet away from him and began
to graze; and just at this time he became aware of a
stealthy gray form that was intently creeping behind the
steer. It took but a glance to ascertain that the lithe
form was that of a large Cougar. John felt rather uncom-
fortable, but sat quietly, and watched the actions of the
Cougar: .
The latter, crouching, almost crawling along the ground,
slowly neared its intended victim. Every motion of the
calf was carefully noted, and whenever it raised its head
the Cougar would crouch motionless on the grass; but
‘when the calf dropped its head, the snake-like, insidious
motion in the long, lithe body of the great cat was resumed
until it was at the very heels of the calf. Then, rearing
slowly up, it reached its fore paws gently over the shoulders
of the calf. The Cougar was a sight to behold. With blaz-
. ing eyes, and with lips curled upward exposing its white
fangs, it waited for the calf to raise its head. Then the
long, graceful body would have surged, and with the clos-
ing of the fangs on the calf’s neck, death would have been
‘instantaneous. But, before it could carry out its inten-
tions, John gave a loud yell, which so terrified the Cougar
that he fell backward, scrambled to his feet, and, with
one leap, vanished in the willows.
The Cougar will not eat carrion; neither will he refuse
an animal lately killed. One day, when shooting rabbits, I
tied together a number that I had killed, and hung them
on a branch of an alder which overhung the path. Return-
ing along the same path shortly after, I met a Cougar
trotting leisurely along with my rabbits in his mouth.
Having a shell loaded with buckshot, he paid for his dis-
honesty with his life.
THE COUGAR. 411
The gait of a Cougar is the same as that of the domestic
cat—either a trot or a plunging run. They are not very
swift, and will easily tree to even a small cur dog. There
is nothing that the Cougar fears so much as a dog, and
they will take to the nearest tree at the sight of one. They
can climb with the greatest facility.
Sometimes, when the hunter is stalking the Deer in the
deep recesses of the forest, he is startled by a fiendish cry—
a cry so unearthly and so weird that even the man of
stoutest heart will start in affright; a cry that can only be
likened to a scream of demoniac laughter. This is the cry
of the male Cougar. If it is answered by the female, the
response will be similar to the wail of a child in terrible pain.
The method usually employed in hunting the Cougar is
chasing them with dogs. Any dog that will chase a cat
will pursue a Cougar. The best. dogs I ever used in hunt-
ing the Cougar were Collies. I once hunted a season with
a wise old Deer-hound, who was infallible when on the trail
-of a Cougar; but when he had succeeded in ‘‘treeing”’
the animal, and I would prepare to shoot, he would mod-
estly retire. After hearing the report of my Winchester,
he would sedately return and inspect the dead Cougar with
solemn gravity. He was a scarred hero of the wilderness,
and no doubt in his youth had waged so many battles with
the ‘‘ big kitty ’’ that he had grown cautious in his old age.
Concerning the tenacity of life, I do not think that there
is an animal of its size that is so easily killed as that under
discussion. I have known them to be killed with a shot-
gun and No. 6 shot. Tlie gun that I have always used in
hunting these animals was a Model ’73 Winchester, 44
caliber; but to the novice or amateur who desires t6 hunt
these animals, I would recommend the Model ’86 Win-
chester repeater, in any caliber above 38. Ina recent hunt-
ing-trip I used an ’86 Model, 50-110, and found it to be the
most paralyzing rifle I ever used, killing Deer and Cinna-
mon Bears as if they had been struck by lightning.
There is no systematic manner of hunting the Cougar.
When still-hunting the Deer, the hunter often observes a
412 BIG GAME OF NORTH-AMERICA.
shadow-like movement among the trees. He listens, then
watches in the direction where he saw the shadow. If he
should see a tawny form appear, let him fire at it instantly.
If the shot has been well-aimed, he will be assured of its suc-
cess by hearing a piercing scream, or witnessing the most ,
exuberant exhibition of ground and lofty tumbling that he
has ever seen. Sometimes he will also see the great Cat
come plunging rapidly in his direction. At one time, when
hunting on the Chilliwhack River, in British Columbia, I
saw what I thought-was a Deer, stealing away from me in
the bushes. Drawing a bead on the vanishing animal, I
' fired, and instantly it changed its course and came rushing
atme. Isaw that it was a large Cougar. The next shot
was more fortunate, and broke its spine, and even then it
‘dragged its body toward me on its fore legs. I then shot
out first one eye, and then the other. In a few moments ‘it
‘ceased to struggle, and when I reached it I found that the
first shot had passed through its stomach. A wound in the
stomach enrages either a Bear or a Cougar.
If the sportsman, desirous of killing a Cougar, proceeds
to any of the settlements in the mountain districts of Brit-
ish Columbia, he will not have to wait long before he has
the desired pleasure. Let his wish be known, and it will
not be long before he is notified, by some luckless rancher,
of a loss of some calf, colt, or sheep. Let him proceed to
the scene of slaughter, accompanied by a dog of any kind
that will chase a common cat. The Cougar always gorges
himself when he kills, and then goes to sleep. He will be
found near his prey, and, with little exertion and no attend-
ing danger, the hunter may secure the desired animal, as it
will take to the nearest tree on approach of the dog, who
by barking will notify the hunter of his quarry.
There is no use attempting to still-hunt the Cougar. If
aware you are on his trail, he will keep but a short distance
away from you; but so noiseless are his steps, so keen his
sight, and so accurate is his scent, that the hunter is not
likely to obtain a glimpse of his royal catship. Sometimes
the game will circle around and follow directly in the trail
THE COUGAR. 413°
of the hunter, dogging his footsteps for miles; but let him
take the back track, and he will soon discover that the Cou-
gar has again doubled on his trail.
In order to show that the Cougar is not the cowardly or
nocturnal animal that the naturalists claim it to be, I will
relate a few instances in which it has attacked people in
day-time. One of these instances illustrates a remarkable
case of boyish heroism.
In the spring of 1886, the children of a Mr. Farnham,
who resides a few miles from Olympia, Washington, were
returning from school, when Walter, the eldest, a boy of
twelve, noticed something that he thought was a-large yel-
low dog, trotting in the road behind them. They paid no
attention to it, as large mongrel dogs, of this color, abound
everywhere in the vicinity of the Indian camps, but played
leisurely along, as is the custom of children the world over.
The youngest boy, a chubby little chap of six summers, who
was behind hisbrothers, suddenly came rolling along in
front of his brothers, and a moment later the great cat
sprung over the heads of the two astonished boys, seized
the little fellow in its mouth, and with a spring vanished
from sight in the bushes.
A cry of terror rose from the lips of the now terrified
boys, that was answered by one of pain, fright, and agony
from the jungle. The elder brother did not deliberate on
whattodo. He had no weapon other than an empty brandy-
bottle, in which he had carried milk for their dinner, and with
this he rushed into the bushes. He saw his little brother
lying prostrate, grasping a small tree with both hands, and
holding on with the desperation of despair, while the
Cougar, with his fangs luckily embedded only in the child’s
clothing, was trying to break the deathlike grip with which
the child held to the tree. With a scream, Walter threw
himself on the Cougar, beat it over the head with the bottle
until the latter was shattered into fragments, and then with
the ragged edges of the neck of the bottle, which he still
held in his hand, he endeavored to cut out the Cougar’s
414 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
eyes. At last, the Cougar, with a yell of rage, dropped his
hold on the child and ran up a tree near at hand; while the
heroic boy, lifting his brother in his arms, carried him into
the road, and fell, fainting, upon him.
The other brother had meantime fled, screaming, up the
road, and it so happened that two men were chopping wood
not far away, who, on hearing the screams of the children,
came running to the rescue, and met the boy in the road. As
soon as he could, he told them the cause of his cries. Seeing
the other children lying in the road, they rushed to them,
and found the little hero senseless, still grasping the neck
of the broken bottle tightly in his hand. The Cougar’s vic-
tim was too horrified to speak, but pointed to where the
savage beast was lying on a limb, in plain view. One of the
men had a revolver, and with a few.shots killed the Cougar.
Both children were badly scratched and bruised, but soon
recovered.
Another instance in which a Cougar attacked a man in
daylight, happened but a few years ago. A Swedish sailor
named Joseph Jorgenson ‘Yan away from.a British man-of-
war that was anchored at Esquimalt, British Columbia, and
found his way through the-woods until he rested under the
domain of the starry flag. Arriving at my father’s farm, on
the Sumas, he was glad to obtain employment and to enjoy
the comforts of a ranch home. As there was at that time
plenty of Government land, and as Joe, like the majority of
his race, was an industrious, honest fellow, my father
advised him to homestead an excellent quarter- -section of
land in the near vicinity.
Joe was elated with the prospect of becoming a land-
holder and a citizen of the United States, and as soon as the
requisite papers arrived, set off one morning to clear a spot
whereon to build his house; but the clearing of that spot
was interrupted by a Cougar, in a very unceremonious way.
Joe had scarcely begun to work, and was wielding his spade
vigorously, when suddenly his arm was seized as in a vise.
He wheeled instantly, and found that his arm was in the
jaws of a Cougar. He was a young and powerful man, with
THE COUGAR. "A415
an intense desire for a long life; so, without any prelimi-
naries, he dealt his assailant such a kick in the stomach as to.
break its hold on his arm and to lay it prostrate at his feet.
The Cougar instantly resented this rude treatment.
Crouching, it sprung at Joe’s throat, but he warded its head
from his throat with his left arm, while with his right he
dealt it a Sullivanic blow in the ribs that again prostrated
it at his side. Quick as a flash, it returned to the attack and
seized him by the left hand, driving its fangs through the
flesh and fearfully lacerating it. It was a fight for life, and
Joe, with his brawny fists and heavy boots, beat and kicked
the animal with such force that it released its grip on his
hand and retreated a short distance. Then it crouched and
sprung at him again, landing on his breast and knocking
him heavily against a tree; but again he cuffed and kicked
it, until it again retreated and crouched for another spring.
Fortunately, Joe, looking down, saw the spade he had
been using lying at his feet. Stooping quickly, he grasped
it, and rose just in time to ward off the Cougar’s spring by
giving it a thrust with thespade. The brute fell at his feet,
but instantly rose and seized him by the thigh. Maddened
with pain, Joe -made a gladiatorial thrust at the Cougar’s
head. The sharp blade of the spade went crashing through
its skull, and it fell dead at his feet.
The place where this battle occurred was a mile from my
father’s house, and we can imagine the feelings of the poor
fellow, so dreadfully bitten and scratched, as he reeled
homeward, the blood streaming from every wound. Hap-
pily, he was observed when he reached the edge of the
prairie, and assistance soon reached him. He was conveyed.
to the house, where all possible assistance was rendered him.
It was many weeks before he recovered, and when he grew
strong again, he shipped on an American coaster as a sailor,
saying that he had less fear of the sharks of the ocean than
of the ‘‘ big kitties’’ of the land.
Miss Mary Campbell, of York, British Columbia, now
the wife of John Kelly, of Sumas, Washington, had an
416 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
adventure with a Cougar that she is not likely to forget. I
will give the incident in her own words:
“Let me see,”’ she said; ‘‘yes, it was just six years ago
last February when I was so badly frightened by a Cougar.
The way it happened was this: One afternoon I started to
visit the Musselwhite girls, who live six miles from York,
on the Cariboo road. My pony was a swift one, and I was
riding along at a fast gallop. I was within two miles of my
destination, when something sprung out of the bushes and
landed in the road just at the pony’s head. He reared, the
saddle turned, and I was, of course, flung on the frozen road,
so violently that for a moment I was senseless. When
I became conscious and opened my eyes, I was horrified to
see two great green eyes glaring in my face, to say nothing
of a horrid row of teeth; for standing directly over me, with
one heavy paw pressing on my breast, was a big Cougar.
“‘T lay for a moment terrified; but you know a woman’s
last resort is to scream, and I did scream, so loudly that it
seemed to frighten the Cougar, for it- instantly sprung to
one side, and I regained my feet as quickly as possible, but
I was so terribly frightened that I could not think or move.
I stood trembling in the road, bewildered and dazed, while
the terrible monster crouched in front of me, trembling with
eagerness, its tail lashing from side to side; but it did not
attempt to spring upon me. It kept its glaring eyes fixed
intently on my face with a cruel, wicked stare.
‘‘ Seeing that it did not attempt to spring, I began to walk’
slowly backward. The Cougar did not move then, but kept
on intently glaring at me. Unluckily, it was between me and
Musselwhite’s. It was only two miles there, while it was
four miles home; but I did not dare to attempt to pass it.
As it did not move until I was quite a distance from it, I
turned quickly, and ran toward home as fast as I could, and
ran until I had to pause from exhaustion. But judge of
my distress when, looking back, I saw the Cougar crouch-
ing just behind me. I turned and looked at it again until
I got some distance from it, and until I had recovered my
breath; then I turned and ran again, but, looking backward,
THE COUGAR. 417
I could see the Cougar trotting swiftly after me. I ran
antil Icould run no longer, and then wheeled and faced the
Cougar again, which again stopped and crouched in the road.
‘‘T began to take courage, seeing that the animal did not
attempt to do me injury so long as I was looking at it, and
so I continued to walk backward. I had come more than a
mile since the Cougar first made his appearance, and I hoped
when I got out of the woods into the prairie, which now
was not more than a mile distant, that the Cougar would
leave me; sol kept on my retrograde way. When I got
about a hundred yards away from the Cougar, it rose from
its recumbent position and came trotting on toward me,
and when it came within a few feet, crouched again. At
that time my heart gave a great leap for joy, for on the peb-
bled road came the sound of the flying footsteps of a horse.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw it was my pony, ridden
by a half-breed boy who lived at the farm. But my joy
was of short duration, for when he saw the Cougar he
‘wheeled the pony, and the sound of his footsteps soon
became faint in the distance.
‘* Walking slowly backward, but with fainting heart, I
reached the edge of the prairie. As soon as the Cougar saw
the open expanse before it, a change came overit. It grew
excited. It came rushing toward me, and instead of crouch-
ing as before, ran past me, and stood in the road before me,
evidently intending to bar the way and drive me back into
the woods. I tried to walk around it, but it would keep
directly in front of me, and seemed determined that I should
not proceed any farther. It grew bolder every minute, and
at last came boldly up and seized my dress. I screamed, and
tore myself away from it, leaving most of my dress- skirt i in
its paws.
‘Then came a sight that I hope no other girl may ever
. be compelled to witness, as an experience of her own. The
brute became maddened, and began jumping quickly around
me, keeping its eyes intently fixed on mine. At times it
would stop, lie down, and roll over, playfully clutching at
the scanty remnants of my dress that it had not already torn
27
418 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
off. I then felt that the end was near. I felt that the Cou-
gar was playing with me, as the cat plays with the mouse,
and that at any moment, whenit tired of tormenting me, I
would be torn to pieces. A feeling of faintness seized me.
I tried to take my eyes from the basaltic-green eyes that
were staring so cruelly into mine, with the triumph of con-
quering strength and satisfactory possession, but could not.
A sound as of rushing waters was in my ears; I reeled and
staggered like a drunken person, and began crying like a
child; I felt like one must feel when life and light are flut-
tering away; then I reeled and fell on the margin of the
prairie. But just at that instant two dark bodies went fly-
ing past me, there came a loud baying and a deep snarling;
then again came a clattering of hoofs, and then the ringing
and almost continuous reports of a Winchester rifle. I
sprung to my feet and looked toward the Cougar. It was
struggling in death, and growling and tearing at it were our
two great hounds, Lead and Jowler. Then someone spoke
to me; I turned, and there stood father. I fainted again,
fell in his arms, and knew nothing more for many days, for
this terrible experience was followed by an attack of brain-
fever.”’
Mr. Charles Harmon, of Mount Vernon, Skagit County,
Washington, had an experience with a Cougar similar to
that just described. While engaged in looking for some
oxen that had strayed away from his logging-camp, he heard
a crashing in the bushes, and saw a large Cougar a little
distance from him, standing on a log. He uttered a loud
yell, thinking he would have the satisfaction of seeing the
Cougar rushing wildly away from him; but, to his no small
consternation, it came trotting swiftly toward him. It did
not attempt to spring upon him, but stood at his side, look-
ing intently at him.
About that time he discovered that he had pressing busi-
ness at the camp, and started down the path that led thither.
The Cougar, with its easy, swinging step, kept right behind
him, and frequently would reach up and lick his hand. No
THE COUGAR. 419
poet ever described a situation more accurately than did
Coleridge describe this one when he wrote:
«Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round, walks on
And turns no more his head,
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.”
This Cougar acted in the same manner as did the one
which attacked Miss Campbell, following Harmon right into
the camp, a distance of two miles, and succeeded in tearing
most of his clothing off before he reached shelter. When
Harmon arrived at the camp, the Cougar crouched near the
door until it was shot. é
Mr. Cathcart, of Snohomish, Washington, was also at-
tacked by a Cougar in daylight. He was returning from a
visit to a neighbor, and was a short distance from his own
residence, when a Cougar sprung out of the place where he
had been concealed in a dense thicket, and attempted to
strike him down, but luckily missed him, and landed in the
path at his feet. With a large cane that he held in his hand,
he made such a determined fight for his life that he held the
Cougar at bay, at the same time lustily calling for help.
His faithful dog heard him and came to the rescue, and
none too soon, for Cathcart was almost exhausted with his
battle with the animal. On the appearance of the dog, the
Cougar took to a tree, and was afterward shot.
A Cougar also attacked Mr. John Potter, of Brownsville,
British Columbia, while he was riding along ‘the road, on a
journey to New Westminster. Without any warning, it
sprung on his horse’s neck. The horse reared, and threw his
rider, also the Cougar, and when they scrambled to their
feet, the man and Cougar stared intently at each other,
until the Cougar with one leap disappeared into the bushes
at the side of the road.
The Cougars that attacked Miss Campbell and Mr. Har-
mon were both females. Some old hunters that I have con-
420 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
versed with claim that at certain periods the female Cougar
becomes very bold, and loses the instinct of prey in the desire
for companionship, but that when she finds how helpless an
unarmed mortal is, she proceeds at once to destroy him.
The following incident was related to me by Hon. Orange
Jacobs, ex-delegate to Congress from Washington:
‘In 1864,”’ said the Judge, ‘‘I was out with a party,
high up in the Cascade Mountains. Our party consisted of
nine persons, including myself. Our camp was at the end
of a long, narrow prairie, which was about a mile from the
Santiam River, one of the principal eastern tributaries of
the Willamette. Deer were plentiful; but they kept con-
cealed in the day-time, in the almost impenetrable brush
and ferns. One of our party had twice started a fine buck,
that on each occasion had run across the upper end of the
prairie toward the river. Meat was getting scarce in camp,
and that buck we must have. Your humble servant was
accounted the best running-shot in the party, and was
accordingly sent to the upper end of the prairie to take a
stand, while the others beat the brush to start the antlered.
beauty.
‘‘The plan succeeded, and he bounded across the prairie
some seven or eight rods from me. I fired, and shot him
through the thigh. He plunged on, however, through the
dense brush toward the river. I followed slowly after him,
clambering over and crawling. under logs, believing that I
would find him dead or dying at the foot of the first em-
bankment that he descended. I soon came to a dry gully.
Iapproached the brink carefully, and looking over the bank,
there—not more than twenty feet from me—lay the Deer,
dead. But immediately over him stood a large male Cou-
gar, gazing intently in the eye of the Deer. I raised my
rifle, took a quick aim, fired, and the Cougar fell dead.
For some unaccountable reason, I did not reload my rifle,
but quickly slid down the bank, taking my gun with me. I
straightened out the Cougar’s tail; as he was a very large
one, I was in the act of pausing to get his length, when, to
THE COUGAR. 421
my astonishment, some fine bark fellon my head and before
my face. I turned, and on looking up into an overhanging
ash-tree, there, crouched on a limb, not twenty feet away,
was the female Cougar. Her hair was all standing, like
that of a mad cat, and her tail was vibrating from side to
side.
“T could not run, because the brush and logs were too
thick. My trusty rifle was empty. I fixed my eyes on the
maddened brute, raised my powder-horn to my mouth (this
was before the breech-loading rifles came into general use),
pulled out the stopper with my teeth, felt for the muzzle of
the gun, and poured the powder in. When I thought I had
plenty, I dropped the horn, got a bullet from my pouch,
and ran it down unpatched. Taking a cap from my vest-
pocket, I placed it on the nipple. As I raised the gun, she
doubled over the limb. I fired immediately. As the gun
cracked, I jumped back, and the animal bounded through
the air toward me, brushing my shoulder as she went past.
A man will do a great deal of thinking, under such circum-
stances, in a very short time. I thought, from the way she
sprung, that I had missed her; but she fell on the ground,
and did not attempt to rise again. I was glad to see her
lying dead, for I must confess that I was a little bit—yes, a
great deal—frightened. I had my hunting-knife in my
hand, and I was fully determined, had it come to a hand-to-
hand encounter, to sell my life as dearly as possible.’’
Mr. John Davis, of Snohomish, was awakened one night
by his hounds barking furiously. From the noise they
made, he knew that something unusual was in the vicinity;
so, taking his gun, he ran out, not even stopping to dress
himself. As soon as the dogs saw him, they made a rush
at some large animal, which immediately jumped over the
fence and ran up the hill into the woods. Mr. Davis fol-
lowed swiftly after, and was soon delighted to hear the
dogs barking steadily in one place, as this indicated that
the game had treed. Hurrying along as fast as the darkness
and the nature of the ground would permit, he soon reached
/
422 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
the place where the dogs were. They redoubled their noise
when they saw him approach. Looking into the top of the
fir-tree up which the dogs were barking, he was able to dis-
cern the lithe, tawny form of a Cougar stretched out upon
a limb, intently watching the dogs below. Raising his gun,
he fired one barrel, aiming at the animal’s shoulder. This
shot seemed to have no effect; but at the report of the
second barrel, the Cougar fell ‘from the tree, striking the
ground at his side. Instantly recovering itself, the Cougar
crouched and sprung at him, striking him on the shoulder
with its chest, knocking fifa down and falling upon him.
At this critical moment, one of his dogs seized the now
infuriated brute by a fore leg. Instantly releasing its hold
on the man, the Cougar caught the dog by tlie head, and
one bite was suflicient to lay him struggling in death.
Davis by this time had regained his feet, and the Cougar,
dropping the dog, jumped at him again. Leaping aside, he
struck it with his gun, but with no other effect than to
break the stock off the barrel. The brute turned and
sprung at him once more; but, moving quickly to one side,
he eluded it, and, as it was passing in the air, threw his left
arm around its body just behind its forelegs. Then, throw-
ing his weight upon the animal, he forced it to the ground.
Instantly raising the gun- -parrel i in his right hand, he struck
it a terrific blow on the head, and quickly followed it up
with another, and then others, until he could strike no
longer, and. the Cougar had ceased to struggle, and lay dead
beneath him.
Strange to say, with the exception of a few scratches,
Mr. Davis was uninjured; his greatest loss being.his new
sixty-dollar breech-loader and a suit of under-clothing that
was torn to shreds in the encounter. Going quietly home,
he went to bed, and did not even mention the cause of his
delay to his wife until the next morning.
When he and his neighbors went to the scene of the fray
and skinned the Cougar, it measured eleven feet. Cougar-
skins are no curiosity here—one can be procured at any
time, almost, for a song; but that Cougar’s skin was cut into
THE COUGAR. 423
fragments, every hunter in the vicinity claiming a piece as
a memento of the strength and courage of a brave man.
The following account of a Cougar-hunt was related to
me by Mr. L. L. Bates, an old-time friend and fellow-
hunter, for whose veracity many residents of Seattle and
vicinity can vouch: >
‘‘Tt, was in the month of March, 1887,”’ said Mr. Bates,
‘‘that I concluded to take a cruise up Charter’s Creek, to
look for Beaver-signs. I took my rifle and best tree-dog,
Spot, thinking I might get some Bears or Fishers while on
my cruise. I had just left the spruce timber, on tide-land,
and had gained the fir timber, two miles up from Gray’s
Harbor, when I came to the carcass of an Elk lying ina
thicket of salmon-bushes in a bend of the creek. What
was left of the Elk was carefully covered up with sticks
and grass.
‘**Cougars, by gum!’ I thought, out loud. I wanted
time to take in the situation before alarming the varmints;
so the first thing was to secure my dog before he gathered
scent of the Cougars. I quietly started on my back track
to where I had last seen the dog.
poo here he is! ‘Spot, old boy, there’s work ahead for
you.’ ‘As I said this, I quickly slipped a collar on his neck
and chained him to a small tree. I took off my coat and
threw it near him, for I knew he would stay quiet while he
had something of mine to watch. I then retraced my steps,
and began a careful examination of the dead Elk and every-
thing about it. I soon made up my mind that there were
two full-grown Cougars in the scheme, as there were sev
eral fresh beds near by, in pairs, and a well-beaten trail
from the carcass down to the water, where they had sev-
eral times gone to drink.
‘‘T had two more good dogs at camp, and for a moment
I considered whether I had better go back and get them, or
-whether to try the fight with old Spot alone. It would
take me three hours to go for the dogs and get back. While
I was gone, the Cougars might come around, get my scent,
- 424 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
and skip out. In that case the dogs might follow them out
of my hearing before treeing them, and there would be a
failure. (You must remember that i is a rough, hilly coun-
try back of Gray’s Harbor, with a great deal of under-
brush.) To try it with one dog, I knew would be danger-
ous for him, for a Cougar will sometimes turn on a single
dog. In that case I would very likely lose my dog.’ But I
finally decided to take the chances, and try it with one dog.
If I failed, and lost him, I still had the chance left of get-
ting the other dogs and making another run.
‘*T examined what was left of the dead Elk. It had’
been a large cow, heavy with calf. The Cougars had prob-
ably followed her a long time, watching for a good:.chance to
light on her. This chance came when the cow went in on
this narrow point of land to feed on the salmon-brush.
The banks of the creek are about eight feet high, and per-
pendicular.
‘“‘In my mind, I went over again the desperate struggles
of this noble old cow for life, against big odds; how the
sneaking Cougars, with their cruel eyes gleaming, had both
sprung at once from alog near by. Yes, there were their
claw-marks, plain as day, in that log; and here the bushes
were trampled down, and the ground covered with blood,
showing plainly the death-struggles of the poor Elk. These
two Cougars, I learned by stepping the distance, had
cleared just twenty-six feet in that fatal leap, from the log
on which they rested to where the Elk stood when they
struck her. ‘Yes, Spot, you and I will do our best to bring
those two blood-thirsty brutes to their death; and it will be
a great comfort to see them stretched out dead, after they
have slaughtered such a noble beast as this. And if we
don’t take home a couple of Cougar-scalps, it will be
because you don’t put them up a tree soon enough.’
‘‘The signs indicated that the Cougars were up the creek
from where the Elk lay, and I knew they could not be far
off; for, like an Indian, a Cougar always wants to lie down’
and sleep when he gets his belly full. ‘Now, old -dog, if
you'll keep still till we get near them, they will tree soon;
THE COUGAR. 425
but if you bay them on a cold trail, they will get a long
start, and give youalongrun. Then I could not keep in
hearing, and we would never get them.’
‘‘T had now gone down, got my dog, and come back up.
As I glanced over the evidences of that fearful struggle
again, I was more than ever anxious to kill those skulking
Cougars. I tied a string around the dog’s jaws, so that he
couldn’t give tongue, and held him on the chain until he
got the trail fresh. All question as to the varmints being
near was soon removed. It would have done you good to
see that dog. He rolled, tumbled, and pawed at that string
on his jaws, worse than a mad cat. ‘I guess this sign’s
fresh enough,’ I thought, out loud; so I loosed the collar,
cut the string, and the dog was off as if he had been shot
out of a gun. And when he went out of sight in the
bushes, every hair on his back stood straight up like porcu-
pine-quills.
‘“‘T followed with the best speed I could make in the
-brush and over.the down timber. As luck would have it,
the dog never said a word for about three minutes. Then
there was music. He let out the blamedest string of yells
Tever heard from one dog in my life. It lasted for only
about two minutes, when the yelling ceased, and I heard
the welcome ooh! ooh! ooh!
‘** Yes, they've treed, sure as I’m alive, and they must
have gone up the nearest tree to their bed!’ Former experi-
ence with Cougars had taught me to make as little noise as
possible when approaching them in a tree, as they are liable
to jump where there isdbut one dog, and make off. I crept
up cautiously, and coming in sight of the hemlock-tree up
which the dog was barking, saw a large Cougar about fifteen
feet above the ground. His ears were laid back flat on his
head, and his long tail was nervously twisting about.
‘‘T didn’t stop to look for the other one, as one Cougar
at a time is enough forme. Ina moment I had the sights
of my rifle in line with the butt of his ear, and when I
pressed the trigger he sprung at least six feet in the air, and
came down dead. Ashe struck the ground, I saw a yellow
426 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
flash in the air, and the dead Cougar’s mate left the same
tree, a little higher up, and with a bold leap struck the
ground thirty feet away.
‘*T started the dog on the track of this one, and followed
up the chase. The Cougar took to the hill-side. I had just
succeeded in forcing my way through a mass of salmon-
brush, and had got upon a log that lay in the edge of a fern-
opening, where I could see a hundred yards up the hill; the
dog and Cougar had disappeared in the brush on the oppo-
site side of the opening, when I was dazed at seeing a white-
and-black object coming through the ferns toward me with
the velocity of an arrow. ‘What in thunder is it?’ I
thought, out loud. ‘My dog? My noble dog! Now, brave
Saxon, hold thy nerve and defend thy friend. A cool head,
a steady hand, and you may, by good fortune, save your
dog!’ These thoughts had but just flashed through my
frenzied brain when I discovered the Cougar vaulting in
mid-air. Two more leaps like that, and good-bye old dog!
As the varmint raised in the air the next time, the report
of my rifle waked the echoes of the forest.
‘**O, you mutton-head! made a clean miss — danged if
you didn’t!’ The next bound, and the Cougar fell upon my
dog. One muffled yell, and all was over with poor Spot!
The Cougar had crushed his skull with one grasp of his
mighty jaws. _
‘‘Again my rifle was leveled; but what strange movements
are these? The Cougar has straightened out on the ground
near my dog. What, dead? Yes, dead; and, on examina-
tion, I found that my bullet had passed through her heart,
coming out at the fifth rib! And that Cougar killed my dog
after receiving that shot! She measured eight feet from tip
of nose to tip of tail, and would have weighed fully one
hundred and sixty pounds; while the male Cougar—the
one killed from the tree—was the finest specimen I have
ever seen, measuring ten feet one inch in length.
‘*Poor old Spot! He died while retreating from the
enemy; but I never blamed him. I have never known a
single dog to stand a rush like that.
: THE COUGAR. 427
‘At the root of a hemlock-tree I dug a shallow grave,
and covered the poor old dog with earth and rocks; and as
the summers come and go, may their softest breezes sigh his
requiem.”’
THE LYNX.
By J. C. Narrrass.
fang WE Lynx family, though closely resembling the rest
% of the Cat tribe, are distinguished from their feline
relatives—the Cougar, or Puma, Leopard, Jaguar,
«>* domestic and Pampas Cat—by their erect, sharply
pointed, tufted, and penciled ears, and an abbreviated tail.
Their habits and methods of hunting are similar to those
of the Cougar.
There are four varieties of Lynx common to the United
States, or at least to the Northern Continent, South America
having none. The Canada Lynx, being the largest and best
known, will receive the bulk of our attention in this paper.
Besides the Canada Lynx, we have the Catamount, the
American Wildcat, and the Red Cat. The entire Lyncean
group embraces—
The European Lynx......... Asotin Croan wanmelee tea Lynx Virgatus.
The Southern, or Pardine Lynx ............000008 Lynx Pardinus,
The Booted, Lynx oss .nieceexissajeieiccnay eieisactene iene sa Lynx Caligatus.
The Caracal. ; oe sscisaaey sees ork beatae ee eats eee Caracal Melanotis,
The Chans........ Sate eleslocatelate’ erelere stoi a eaeiomiais wore Chans Lybdicus.
The Canada Lynx. . cicsscsesses scvacccveewescey Lynx Canadensis,
The American Wildcat.........c..eeceeeceeeeeees Lynx Rufus.
The Red Catscss cesnewewaaacwmawaeaeiaseeaocees Lynx Fasciatus.
The Catamount........cccecsece soccccsceerenese Lyna Maculatus.
The European and Canada Lynx closely resemble each
other. The European is a native of Europe and Asia. Its
color is dark-gray, tinted with red; has a few large, spotted
patches on body, and many small blotches on limbs.
The Southern Lynx is the most beautiful of all the
group, having a beautiful, heavy, ruddy-chestnut fur, cov-
ered with Leopard-like spots. It isa native of Sardinia,
Portugal, Spain, and other southern countries.
(429)
430 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
The Booted Lynx—so named because of the deep-black
coloring of the lower part of its legs—is of a reddish-tawny
hue of deep gray, spotted with black hairs, the legs being
striped, well up, with brown; there are two brown stripes
on each side of the face. It is a native of India, Africa,
Asia, Egypt, and Barbary.
The Caracal has an extremely short tail. Its color isa
reddish, pale brown, darker on back than under parts,
spotted slightly with reddish or black spots; lips and
chin white; ears black. It is a native of Asia, Africa,
India, Arabia, Nubia; Egypt, Barbary, the Cape, and has
avery wide range. The Caracal is an active, lithe animal,
though not large, seldom if ever exceeding thirty pounds
in weight. It bears the reputation of being the most
morose, surly, and untamable of all the group. |
The Chans is darker on the back than sides, being of a
tawny hue, with black-tipped hairs scattered over the fur,
forming rings on the tail and stripes on the body and
limbs; tip of tail is black; the cheeks are white, and a
white spot is under each eye. It inhabits the shores of the
Caspian Sea, Persia, India, Asia, and Africa.
The American Wildcat, though exterminated in many
sections, was formerly found over nearly all of the North
American Continent. The tail of the Wildcat is its chief
distinguishing feature,-being short and rather bushy. It
stands somewhat higher on its legs, and has a coarser and
rougher head, than the domestic cat. Climatic changes
cause a variation in color in different localities, which is
usually a yellowish or sandy gray; body and limbs striped
‘with dark streaks, similar to those of the Tiger, running at
right-angles with the line of the body and limbs; the
spine is striped with a dark chain of streaks; the tail has
a black tip and dark rings. The fur is rather heavy and
thick. The adult: measures two to three feet in length,
including tail, which is barely half the length of the body.
Its home is found among caves, clefts of rocks, hollow tree-
trunks, or even in the nest of a large bird. It brings forth
from one to five kittens at a litter.
THE LYNX. 481
The Catamount common to California, Arizona, Mexico,
and Texas is similar to the other varieties, excepting that
it has longer ears and dark lines along the sides of the
neck.
The Red Cat is also similar, and has a very heavy and
soft, coat; the back being of a rich chestnut-brown.
The Canada Lynx is the largest and heaviest of all
American species. It has larger feet and limbs; the neck
has a pointed ruff on each side; tail short, well covered
with fur; claws strong and white.
In some climates the color is almost white, but is usually
a dark-gray, tinged with chestnut, the limbs being darker
than the body. Back and elbow-joints are mottled, blotched
with large, indistinct blotches of darker color—hairs white
at extremities; ears tufted, and penciled at the tips with
black. The feet being large, and limbs powerful and well
clothed with hair, give the animal a general aspect of
clumsiness.
When leaping over the ground, as it does in a series of
successive bounds, with back arched, the tail so short as to
be almost indiscernible, it presents altogether a quaint,
weird appearance, which has been described by many,
hunters and backwoodsmen as laughable and peculiar in the
extreme—some of them imagining it to resemble a ghost;
but how a ghost really does look, in life or death, is more
than I can conjecture, never having seen one.
The Canada Lynx is not very tenacious of life—a slight
blow on the back, or base of the skull, with a club, or a shot
from a small-caliber rifle, being sufficient to readily kill
him.
As accuracy in a rifle is the main desideratum, the small-
bores are preferable as weapons for hunting the Lynx, he
being an extremely wary and timid animal, and possessing
the faculty of concealment to a wonderful degree. He will,
like the Cougar, hide himself on a small limb, flattening
himself out thereon so that he is almost concealed; and only
the most vigilant and well-trained eye can discover him.
His coat closely resembling, in color, his hiding-place, he is
432 _BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
frequently passed by, even when searched for by a keen and
penetrating eye. The surface presented for the sight to
~ cover is a small one, and the more accurate the weapon,
the surer the kill.
I would recommend a 38-caliber Winchester repeater for
hunting this animal. The 32-40 is an excellent arm for the
purpose, so far as it goes, but I dislike a single-shot rifle in
the woods. Use a repeater, by all means. For sights, I
prefer either the Winchester or Lyman ivory bead front
sight, and the open rear notch sight.
A white front sight has a great advantage over any other
in heavy and thick timber, where semi-darkness often reigns
supreme, as the white bead will here loom up conspicuously
against the fur of the crouching animal.
A bead taken, if possible, an inch above and exactly
between the eyes, will, if the hunter hold right, insure him
no waste of ammunition, very little noise—and consequent
scaring of other game—and a handsome pelt, which is
always sought after and paid liberally for, if properly
cured. This shot also insures an instantaneous kill, which is
always a source of great pleasure to the true hunter. If
such a shot be not presented, a bead taken behind the
shoulder, well down toward the brisket, or one taken along
the spine, will be almost equally fatal; but no spot can you
strike which will cause a more instant death than the first-
mentioned. :
The Lynx exceeds three feet in length when developed,
and I have seen specimens that weighed sixty pounds; forty
pounds, however, is a fair average. He isa splendid swim-
mer—rapid in his movements—his broad, heavy limbs giving
him great power and speed in the water. The dog that can |
keep within hailing-distance of this big cat, in the river or
in the lake, must be a hustler, and no mistake.
I once saw a good-sized specimen take to the water, in
Lake Leman, in British Columbia, when hard-pressed by
our dogs, and swim clear across the lake, which is about a
mile wide. He speedily left the dogs far behind, and would
have escaped up the other bank but for a stray ‘bullet which
THE LYNX. 433
struck him between the ears. The French colonists desig-
nate him as the Pecsho, or Le Chat. The Indians of the
Northwest call him the Tenas-Puss-Puss. The home of the
Lynx is found among the rocks, caves, and hollow tree-
trunks. The female brings forth from one to four kittens,
usually in April.
“The principal food of the Lynx is the rabbit, or cotton-
tail, small birds and animals of all kinds. He affects the
heads of the grouse in particular. A small Deer is a much-
cherished dainty. The Cougar contributes unwittingly in
keeping his cousin’s larder supplied with Deer, sheep, pigs,
and beef. What the Cougar leaves carefully hidden away
in a secure place for future reference, the Lynx as carefully
unearths and feasts upon.
The Lynx has been known to associate with the domestic
cat. A beautiful specimen of the latter lies on my rug at
the present writing, whose grandfather on the mother’s side
is believed to have been a full-blood Lynx. The specimen
in question shows all the markings of her grandfather
except the tufted and penciled ears and the heavy limbs.
She is a gentle, affectionate, and intelligent animal. The
children can tease her with impunity; but game must never
be allowed near her, for when her teeth close on a game bird,
her wild instincts are aroused. She is oer a fury, and will
fight to the death.
‘While cleaning some grouse one aoe several of them
being laid out on the table, she came purring up, rubbing
her arched back caressingly against my knee, when she
got her eyes on the birds. She seized’one in her teeth, and
started to make off with it to the bushes. I seized her by
the tail and attempted to take the bird from her, when all
her wild instincts sprung into instant play. Her fur
turned the wrong way, her tail bushed out, her sharp,
white claws were displayed, while her eyes blazed with
fury. Fighting like a demon, she clung to the grouse
with her sharp teeth. I became thoroughly indignant,
lifted her aloft, and banged her down on a log with consid-
erable force; so heartily, indeed, that the pheasant rolled
28
434 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
into the bushes. After the trouble was all over, she calmed .
down into the same old serene and complacent, purring
pussy, showing no malice—in fact, seeming to forget all:
about the matter. ; :
Her mother is the property of Mr. Perry, the renowned
sportsman, and my esteemed friend and hunting companion,
or ‘‘Sillalicum,’”’ as we say here in the Northwest. The
mother has a short, thick tail, not over three inches long,
and she is similar to all other house-cats in disposition and
looks, but is much stronger—in fact, she isa great fighter,
and thrashes everything in the cat or dog line in the neigh-
borhood. She is a wonderful ratter, and is withal very shy.
She will make friends with no one but her master. Some of
her kittens have the regular short tail of the Lynx, while
others have a longer one; but none have as long a tail as the
common house-cat. Their heads also have a wilder and
coarser look. They are all gray, with stripes on the body
and limbs; black-tipped and black-ringed tails. In size they
are a little larger than the ordinary domestic puss.
Mary Perry, unlike most ladies, was not in the least
timid. Refined, educated, a popular writer, she was, like
her brother, a good hunter, and loved the gun. She was
afraid of no animal that ever skulked in an American forest.
She knew the habits of all the game in the neighborhood—
knew where to find a covey of grouse, a flock of mallards,
a herd of Deer, a Cultus Bear, or a Cougar; and knew how
to kill them, too.
While walking with her mother one day, on a visit to a
neighbor, her hound, Prince, put a Lynx into a tree some
distance from the trail. Hastening in to where the dog
stood barking, and bidding her mother stay and watch the
dog and Lynx, she hastened back to the house, got her
light, twelve-gauge gun, and hurried back into the woods
where her mother and the hound were on guard. Lying on
a limb, blinking, snarling, and spitting at the dog, was the
ugly creature. Raising her gun to her face, Mary took a
steady aim and pressed the trigger. The gun flashed, the
THE LYNX. 435
-entire charge entered the head of the Lynx, and it tumbled
to the ground, stone-dead. Prince stood there with danc-
ing eyes, quivering limbs, and open jaws. He sprung upon
the limp carcass and shook it to his heart’s content. Then
his mistress carried her trophy home in triumph.
The Lynx measured three feet and a half in length from
tip to tip, weighed thirty-eight pounds, and was a beauti-
ful specimen. Such a powerful animal, if it were to turn
its full strength and its natural weapons against the most
powerful man, could make short work of him, if unarmed.
Though usually considered harmless, the Lynx is a most
powerful brute. No dog can match him. He can tear the
strongest and fiercest dog into shreds in a few seconds, if
he choose to fight. Nor is he as cowardly as the Cougar;
many old hunters considering him more to be feared than
the latter.
Two young lads, Ernest Holmes and Tom Berry, while
passing through a neighbor’s ranch with their sheep-dog,
Rover, had their attention’ drawn to the dog’s antics.
Rover, after circling through the timber some moments, at
last settled down to trail some animal which had passed
some time before. He soon opened up, and barking wildly,
disappeared along the banks of a creek. The boys followed,
and the barking at last seeming to locate in a bunch of vine
maples. They rushed in, and saw a large animal perched
about five feet from the ground, on a swaying sapling
within their reach.
They had no weapons other than their penknives, and
so, knowing no danger, attacked the Lynx—for such ‘it
proved to be—with these. They could just reach the brute
by standing on their tiptoes. First one, then the other
boy, would reach up and stab the Lynx in the back and
limbs, bringing the blood in many streams. So heartily
did they ply their knives, that the beast soon loosened its
grip on the stunted maple and fell to the ground, half-dead
from loss of blood. The dog seized him by the throat, and.
‘soon choked the life out of him. His coat was literally cut
436 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
to pieces by the boys’ knives. He was a little over two feet
in length, and weighed twenty-eight pounds. :
A certain ranchman’s hen-roost having been sadly
depleted by the inroads of some nocturnal visitor for sev-
eral weeks, his Teutonic blood at last became aroused, and
he declared that the varmint that had been so unlawfully-
depriving him of his chickens had to go—and that suddenly.
The ranchman had noticed sundry large and cat-like tracks
around the roost. every morning, and decided that the
poacher was a Lynx. Knowing the habits and resorts of
-the varmint thoroughly, Hank sat up several nights in suc-
cession, with his old musket heavily loaded with powder
and coarse shot; but in vain. The Lynx failed to appear
while the owner of the poultry was on guard. Weary with
his vigils, Hank turned in at dark the next night, leaving
his hens unprotected. On the following morning. a fresh
trail was discovered, and another hen was missing. Hank
was thoroughly disgusted, and vowed that he would not
sleep again till the marauder had been summarily dealt
with. Calling in several of his neighbors, who also had
-suffered by the depredations of the rascal, a solemn pow-
wow and council of war was held; it being ultimately
decided that the entire outfit encamp on his trail till
death, most cruel and violent, should be meted out'to him.
Several good hunting-dogs being mustered, the outfit
took up the fresh trail, near Hank’s hen-house. A slight
flurry of snow had lately fallen, which aided their designs
materially. The dogs were taken to the tracks, and after
snuffing around suspiciously, the leader took up the trail,
and the entire pack followed. They struck up a musical
shout, each dog in his own individual key; some loud, some
sharp, some deep, but each doing his or her best. The dogs
were eagerly followed by the relentless and blood-thirsty
poultry-owners.
They crossed the young orchard, plunged into the thick
timber on the other side, making for the upland and green
timber, where the dogs apparently lost the trail; but the
THE LYNX. 437
old leader soon recovered it, and the wild refrain again
went forth. Doubling back, they returned to the lake,
passed along the shore for some three hundred yards, and
then went into the thick timber again. Then they went
direct to and across the Canadian boundary-line, and were
on British soil. Lake Leman was soon reached and left
behind, the timber growing thicker and denser, the under-
growth more difficult to penetrate, till even the dogs could
scarce get through. A halt was called, and refreshments
partaken of. A short rest, and again the party started
forth, with renewed vigor.
After doubling and running, walking and tumbling—
after a great deal of profanity had been indulged in—the
hunters began to fear they would not be able to overtake
the Lynx before sundown. But at last the dogs stopped
beneath a tree, howling, yelling, and roaring. The hunters
knew then that the end was not far off—that the Lynx was
treed; and hastening into the thick undergrowth where the
dogs were, they began to scan the limbs of the tree. There,
sure enough, was a big brindled fellow, tired, spiritless, and
half-dead from his long run. He crouched against a limb,
evidently hoping to escape being seen by the hunters. But
no, nothing can escape their keen, experienced eyes, and
the loads from six or seven guns are simultaneously emptied
into him. He comes down with a thump among the dogs,
stone-dead, riddled with all kinds of leaden missiles, from
BB shot to forty-five-caliber bullets. The dogs lit into him
and shook him till he was a shapeless mass, and then all
returned home in great glee.
The Lynx is easily trapped; a rabbit placed in a snare or
ordinary trap, or attached to the trigger of a spring-gun, will
often result in the death of one of their number. Finding
the track of a Lynx in the snow, while shooting ducks on a
creek, and being desirous of capturing him, I hurried home,
returning with a strong Fox-trap, having powerful springs
and sharp, heavy teeth. I set it in the trail, at a place that
was much tracked up and tramped upon. There were also
438 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
particles of fur, showing where the Lynx had evidently tar-
ried quite often, this being. in a secluded, out-of-the-way
gulch.
Setting the trap on the ground, I covered it loosely over
with snow, and hung a dead rabbit above the trap some
three feet, tying itsecurely to a vine maple, in such position
that the Lynx would be compelled to step on the trap to get
at the rabbit. Returning home, I repaired to the trap again
toward sundown the following day. On approaching the
trap, I discovered my victim securely held by a fore foot,
the leg being much lacerated, as, not relishing his imprison-
ment, he had tried to pull his big paw bodily therefrom. A
blow of a stick on his spine soon ended his sufferings.
In regions much frequented by Lynx, an inclosure some-
times is built, to keep out the rancher’s or Indian's dog, and
to apprise the hunter of the danger. within, and a steel-
trap, spring-gun, or pitfall prepared, baited with-a rabbit,
grouse, or small bird—the inclosure being visited at inter-
vals to ascertain results. Many trappers have a series of
such inclosures and traps, which they visit, one after the
other, each day. A Bear-trap is set on a run where a Bear
travels in search of salmon; a Beaver-trap is placed in a
swamp, slough, or other place where the Beaver makes his
home and has his dam; one or more traps being set in
sections of the woods traversed by the Lynx, Wildcat, or
Cougar.
While hunting Deer in the Cascade Range, and on our
second day out, we wounded a fine buck. We followed his
trail for several hours, blood being liberally sprinkled all-
alongit. When almost up tc where we expected to find him,
certain feline tracks, following the Deer’s, attracted our
attention. Believing them to be those made by the Mount-
ain Lion, we carefully concealed ourselves in the brush,
listening intently for the faintest sound ahead. Hearing
nothing, we advanced cautiously and silently through the
thick timber, great care being taken to step upon-no twig
or broken limb, nor to cause the slightest sound. Our
THE LYNX. 439
breathing almost suspended, we advanced upon the thicket
where we expected our game to lay.
The thicket was finally gained, an opening ahead dis-
closed—a crawl on hands and knees bringing us to a huge
tree-trunk. Thenanother is gained; a close survey ahead,
and from behind the tree, with rifles carefully held at a
‘“‘ready,’’ a scene met our eyes that we shall never forget.
There lay our big buck fast breathing his last, the blood
spurting from a ghastly wound in his neck, while black,
clotted blood trickled down from each slender nostril to the
velvet forest carpet upon which he lay stretched. At his
side, with sharp, white fangs buried deep in his flesh, was a
big Gray Lynx. One huge paw rested upon the dying Deer’ Ss
side, the cruel, white claws tearing through hair, flesh, and
sinew. So busily engaged was the Lynx on the Deer, that
he stopped to notice nothing else, his only object appearing
to be to get on the outside of the largest possible amount of
venison in the shortest possible time.
From the side he sprung again to the throat. At this
instant two rifles cracked. The smoke, hanging heavily
upon the still atmosphere of the forest, for a brief interval
obscured our view. We rushed forward, with rifles ready,
and trained upon the spot where lay the Lynx. But no
muscle quivers; the breath has left his body; he is dead, cut
down so suddenly his last breath went out with teeth deeply
set in the Deer’s neck.
The Lynx is seldom hunted systematically, as are the
Deer, Elk, Bear, and other. game animals, unless it be by
professional hunters or .trappers, who value him for his
pelt. With them, the usual method is to hunt him with
dogs trained to follow the trail by scent. In other cases,
his track is followed through the snow, by the eye, by a
party of hunters, who, when starting out, must be prepared
to make a long, hard tramp of many hours, or possibly sev-
eral days. I have known a party, who wanted a Lynx
badly, to follow the trail of one all day, returning home as
darkness set in. They returned to the hunt next morning,
440 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
took up the trail where they left it the night before, and fol-
lowed it all day, and again the next. day, till they finally
trailed the beast to its lair, treed and shot it. In mount-
ainous, timbered countries, however, such heroic methods
are seldom necessary, for if one. Tenas-Puss-Puss escapes,
another is usually soon found, without traveling days or
weeks.
The dog most suitable for the purpose is a Deer-hound, or
across between a Deer-hound and a Collie. A swift dog
is not desirable; the main qualifications being, that he will
trail by scent, give mouth boldly, stay to his work, put —
the varmint up a tree, and keep him there. It is not ex-
pected that.any dog will be required to kill the beast alone;
so size is not so much an object as scent, voice, and staying
qualities. The hunter usually wants to do the killing him- ~
self. Ifthe dogs have to do that, it will need a good pack
of them, well trained, who will worry, harass, and attack
him from all sides, aiming to get him by the throat or spine,
as his back is easily broken. The dog, in front of those ter-
rible claws and fangs, must have great sagacity, courage, and
knowledge of the science of self-defense, looking out for his
own skin, first, last, and all the time.
One wild and stormy December night, a trio of hunters,
tired, cold, and hungry, in camp on the side of one of Mount
Baker’s foot-hills, sat around the blazing fire, devouring
their evening meal of venison, bread, and cheese; a pot of
steaming black coffee hung above the blazing logs. The
wind whistled, howled, and screamed through the gigantic
fir-tops on all sides. The forest all about was mantled in
a shroud of white; the fine snow drifted in through the
cracks and crannies of the rude log cabin.
The hunters finished their repast. put away cooking-
utensils, and those that used the fragrant weed filled their
pipes, lighting them with a brand from the fire, and settled
themselves down on blankets and furs, with their feet close
to the glowing embers. Then came the season of hiyu-wah-
wah—heap talk—each in turn relating incidents and advent-
“ONIHOVOd
THE LYNX. 441
ures of camp-life, of mountain-life, of hunts on the great
plains or the deep forests.
The night waned, but the screaming wind without howled
on in dismal, weird, and solemn discord. The snow fell
faster and faster. Growing cold, the veteran of the party
rose and piled new logs on the fire, sending a cloud of sparks
up among the log rafters above.
“A bad night, boys! I pity the poor unfortunate who
“may be out in this storm.’
The howl of a Mountain Wolf rose above the roar of the
elements. The scream of a Panther joined in the discord,
rendering the night truly hideous. The scent of the game
that hung about the camp kept the beasts of the mountains
hovering around; but the glare and smoke from the cabin,
and the presence of their human foes, prevented them from
coming too near.
The attention of the hunters being turned to the Puma,
Mountain Lion, or Cougar—otherwise known as Panther—
many thrilling and blood-curdling stories were narrated of
the sneaking, powerful cat, till the blood of the listeners
almost ran.cold, and more than one anxious eye was uneasily
turned into a dark corner, or cast into the darkness without,
‘in search for possible prowlers.
The subject next discussed was the Lynx, and him the
hunters proposed to hunt on the following day. Several fine
Cougar-skins already graced the cabin, a splendid Brown
Bear had been killed, a number of Deer and Mountain
Sheep were hung safe above the reach of the prowling
Wolves without, but no Lynx had yet fallen to our score.
Many big Lynx-tracks had been seen in the snow, but until
now no special thought had been given them. It was there-
fore proposed that the two following days be devoted to
this cowardly but powerful animal.
A last look to rifles, knives, and cartridge-belts is taken;
hot coals are raked over the ground, then the same removed,
leaving a warm bed of earth, upon which the blankets are
spread, and three tired but expectant hunters recline their
weary limbs thereon. With feet to the fire, and heavy
442 _ BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
blankets piled over them, they sleep, dreaming of thrilling
encounters with mammoth denizens of the forest and
mountains, of skillful shots, instant deaths, herds of game,
and beasts galore.
And, dreaming, they reck not of the night, nor of the
howling blizzard without. The night wore on, and as the
first faint streaks of daylight came stealing down upon the
cabin amidst the virgin forest, one member of the party
awakes, and springing to his feet, replenishes the fire,
which has almost died out, huge logs being placed thereon.
The coffee-pot, a strip of venison, and a slice of bacon are
placed above the hot coals. His companions are now on
foot, and the steaming breakfast is hastily devoured. The
dogs are fed, cartridge-belts adjusted, and away they go.
Only one dog—a Cougar-dog—is taken, the others being
left at camp, greatly to their consternation, and long after
camp is left can their dismal howlings be heard. The snow
in all directions is closely scanned. Deer,’Coon, Cougar,
Wolf, and Elk tracks alike are passed by. The track of
the Bear is not now seen; he is taking his winter’s sleep,
and does not meander forth till spring brings him out, rav-
enous with hunger, to ravish the lands below. Then the
skunk-cabbage and the rancher’s hogs will suffer.
At last a track is discovered by the engineer, the veteran
of the party, who, undecided, beckons the writer to his side.
The track is not heavy enough or wide enough for that of a
Cougar, nor is it the dog-like track of. the Wolf, but yet it
seems too big for that of a Lynx. All three hunters now
examine the track, which at last they decide to be that of
a Canada Lynx.
The dog for to-day’s work is a cross between a Collie and
a Deer-hound, showing many points of each, but not having
the long coat of the former, nor the short coat of the latter;
being, instead, covered with a thick, wiry hair, short and
stiff. He has the head and body of the hound, but the
color of the Collie. A strong, swift, keen-nosed animal is
Badger—the hero of many a Cougar, Bear, and’Coon hunt;
intelligent and docile, but a ravenous feeder, and cross to
THE LYNX. 443
strangers. He was not a house-dog, but a dog for big
game surpassed by few. Alas, poor Badger! He has since
passed away, ina most miserable manner, having been poi-
soned by an Indian who claimed he had bitten him.
Badger’s attention was called to the trail, which he
sniffed and smelled, and soon took up. With nose to the
snow, he slowly trails along; then, lifting up his voice in a
deep bay, he dashes away, hot on the trail of the Lynx.
We followed him, over fallen tree-trunks covered deep
with snow, under snow-covered and reclining limbs, through
thick undergrowths and tangles of all kinds, where one
touch of the hand, body, or boot was sufficient to shake
down the soft snow upon coat, cap, and rifle, till the entire
party are white from head to foot. Now the dog runs
silent, having missed the trail; but soon his keen nose
strikes it again, and away he goes, his deep, bass notes
guiding the hunters aright.
The storm has abated; the sun coldly peeps through the
thick foliage and towering tree-tops. Warming up as the
day grows older, ten thousand diamonds sparkle from limb,
leaf, and trunk, till the beautiful snow-white covering, glit-
tering, glinting in the rays of the December sun, dazzles
the eye. Nature now in her grandest form calls forth
the wonder and delight of the enthusiastic worshipers at
her shrine.
But the Lynx is not yet caught, and that, not Nature-
‘worship, is the business of to-day; so onward we spring, the
footstep silent and noiseless as death, no sound breaking the
stillness but the baying of the dog, the chirp of a squirrel, or
the whir of a grouse as it starts from under foot, and, straight
as an arrow, sails onto a limb, and sits there, a big brown
bird with outstretched neck, stupidly allowing the intruder
to pass beneath without stirring a feather. The moaning
of the wind through the tree-tops adds its melody or dis-
cord, as you may please to term it, to the other slight dis-
turbances, save which, all is a vast, unbroken solitude.
The track of the Lynx is plainly outlined before us, deep
cut into the soft snow. Where an extra jump has been
444 - BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
made, the sharp, cruel claws cut into the snow, the heel in
places being also plainly marked, making an imprint not
unlike a man’s bare foot—long, and tapering back to the heel.
Now Badger shows a fresh burst of speed, and we have
trouble in keeping within hearing of him. The quarry is
started, and probably the dog has sighted it, for he roars on,
heedless of obstacles. Surely, now the Lynx will soon take
to a tree. Atan exclamation from one of the party, all eyes
are turned in the direction of his gaze. There, upon a bare
surface, and in an opening in the brush, is seen a Goat-like-
beast, with humped back and tufted ears, taking long
bounds—an uncouth, ungainly, clumsy gait indeed.
Badger has seen him, too, and witha tremendous burst of
speed he passes, like a bolt, before our gaze. Yes, there
goes the Lynx up a tree. Now Badger is beneath, howling
at the top of his voice. Although tired unto death, the
perspiration oozing from every pore, and our limbs ready
to wilt to the ground, the sight of the quarry, and the
knowledge that the chase is ended, gives us new strength,
and we are soon beneath the tree.
A 50-110 Winchester Express, a 38-caliber Winchester,
and a 45-60 are leveled at the crouching, trembling, and
quivering mass of gray fur above. Three reports ring out
as one, and down comes the big-limbed animal, perforated
with lead enough to kill anelephant. Badger is allowed to
shake his enemy a few seconds, and then the limp body is
taken away from him to save the pelt, which is a very hand-
some one. We judged him to weigh at least forty-five
pounds.
After skinning and rolling up the pelt, we made our
weary way back to camp, which we reached about dark,
jaded and worn out, but jubilant-at our success.
The next day we decided to still-hunt another Lynx,
whose track we had crossed while following our big chap.
Now, still-hunting the Lynx, in thick timber and over rough
ground, upon a mountain-side, is an extremely uncertain
undertaking.
THE LYNX. 445
But, nothing daunted, the writer and the engineer took
up the trail the following morning, while our companion
remained at camp to nurse a contused ankle, which he had
sustained while jumping from a huge log the previous day.
The hurt was painful, but not serious.
The trail was readily picked up, but, being somewhat
old, was discarded for a new one which crossed it, and was-
evidently but a few hours old. Though not large, it promised
. good sport, and at least another pelt. This track crossed
much of the same ground as that of the day previous, but
went down to the lowland, into the green timber. Having
reason to believe that the Lynx had lingered, and was not a
great march ahead, we tramped leisurely on.
Sundry grouse-feathers bestrewed the snow where he had
been feeding. Being a skillful fowler, the Lynx is seldom
at a loss for the staff of life here in the Cascade Range, where
birds are so abundant. Like a dog, he will scent his game.
Knowing how to proceed, from long experience and a con-
stant necessity of hustling for himself, he advances on his
unsuspecting victim, silently, noiselessly, and concealed, per-
haps, behind some mound of earth or tree-trunk, he sneaks
along, with his belly on the ground, till he is as near as he
can get without flushing the grouse. Strutting upon a log,
perchance, is the proud bird; every feather rufiled, the
black feathers around his neck puffed out, he paces majes-
tically to and. fro, ever and anon emitting a slight ‘‘cluck-
cluck,’”’ similar to that produced by moistening the lips,
holding them together, then separating them with a snap;
or, if it be in the spring of the year, he drums and booms,
producing a sound similar to that produced by beating rap-
idly on an immense bass-drum.
Or possibly the partridge is quietly feeding, pecking at
stray morsels of food, unconscious of the treacherous, crawl-
ing destroyerso nearathand. The bird’s head being turned
to one side for a second, there is a streak, a flash of fur, and
the next instant the cruel fangs pierce through feathers,
flesh, and bone, and the poor bird never knows what struck
him.
446 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
Even if the grouse is too far off, or the cat has miscalcu-
lated his leap, and the bird takes to his wings, which are of
great strength, and which often carry him through the
hunter’s fire unscathed, the Lynx is not yet foiled, nor are
his resources yet at an end. No aim is truer, no calculation
more accurate, no motion swifter, than the spring which is
now made, as the bird rises from the ground, and is caught
in mid-air, with a tremendous leap of lightning-like swift-
ness; and the bird is crushed between jaws of steel.
The feathers show us that the beast has tarried here; and
this delay may be fatal to him. Going still slower, we move
silently along in the fresh-cut tracks. Here he has turned;
now he has doubled back. We must be careful, or we will
lose him in this thick jungle.
‘Very likely he is in there,’”’ we think, as we lift one
foot ahead of the other—one eye on the trail, the other
examining every limb and trunk ahead of us, and on each
side. #
‘“No, he can’t be in here.”’ ~
The tracks continue through; now his jumps are longer;
he is fairly humping himself, no doubt having pressing
business on hand in some other county. We don’t believe
he has heard or seen us, for we have the wind and have come
very cautiously and quietly. No sound can he have heard.
Now the trail leads us into an almost impenetrable jungle,
along a ravine. A wind-fall blocks our further progress;
trees of all sizes are piled above each other, till it seems an
impossibility for even a cat to enter.
A council of war is held, in whispered accents. The
area of the wind-fall is not great, so we decide to encircle
it, hoping to put puss out if hidden therein. The engineer
climbs down into the rugged, rocky, shelving mountain-
gulch, carefully watching for the trail. The writer circles
in the opposite direction, which proves less precipitous;
also watches the snow-covered ground for the trail.
A low whistle from the engineer hastens his footsteps.
We are soon together again. The veteran silently points a
finger up the craggy sides of the gulch, where a ledge of
1
THE LYNX. 447
rock projects almost perpendicularly above. The foot-
prints of the Lynx, or some other large animal, lead:
directly to it, and above it there are no tracks.
The veteran’s face, suffused with smiles, is benignantly
turned upon me.
‘“‘There’s our varmint; but how will we get there?—that’s
the question.”’
The sides of the ravine are closely scanned for a scaling-
point, but none presents itself which will admit of speedy
travel. The only course left open is to attempt the ascent,
which appears extremely hazardous. Boulders and rocks,
big as the Chicago Court-house, have to be scaled, whose
sides tower straight up. Then, again, loose rocks of all
sizes present themselves, a touch only being required to
hurl them below. Still, having come so far for that Lynx,
we can not go.back now, but must have him, rocks or no
rocks. So, strapping our rifles to our backs, we climb up
till we get to the most prominent obstruction, a jutting
ledge, which it appears almost impossible to surmount. A
bank of soft earth is discovered to the right of it, in which
our hunting-knives soon make holes for our hands and feet.
A tedious, risky climb brings us on the ledge above, which
is covered with two feet of snow, where the Lynx-track is
again recovered. A fissure in the rock next receives our
attention. ;
‘Tf there is no other entrance to this cave, we’ve got you,
old gray-back!’’ ejaculates the engineer, as we thrust our
rifles into the opening, and endeavor to pierce the gloom
within. The darkness is too thick, and at first nothing is
to be seen. Presently, however, the eye becomes accus-
tomed. to the gloom, and a deep fissure is found which will
admit us both. Stooping low, wé advance slowly into the
darkness. A match is struck, and there, huddled up on a
ledge of rock, are two dark bodies. The match flickers and
dies. Another is struck, and a pair of rifles thrust in the
direction of the two bodies; a pair of large, shining eyes
appear on each side of the sight on the business-end of the
rifle; two reports thunder together in the cramped quarters.
448 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
Darkness, thick and impenetrable, follows. We hear
writhing, struggling, and a smothered scream in-the direc-
tion of one of the bodies, and both our rifles are again dis-
charged in the direction of the sound; then all is still.
Another match is now struck; but the smoke hangs so
thick and black that we are unable to see through it.
Returning to the mouth of the cave, an oiled rag and a
piece of tarred rope are discovered in a pocket. The rag
and rope are twisted together and set on fire, and the burn-
ing mass thrown far into the cave, bringing brightness
and light to every corner of it. We return, and find the
two animals dead; two balls having passed through one of
them, while the death of the other had been instant as the
result of one shot.
Both are drawn out to the daylight, and examined with
great interest. One was the largest Lynx we had ever seen,
and would have weighed, as nearly as we could judge, about
fifty pounds. He was three feet long, exclusive of the tail.
The other Lynx was much smaller, and a female, measur-
ing somewhat under thirty inches, and weighing about
half as much as the male. Securing the pelts, we retraced
our steps. This ended the most exciting Lynx-chase we
ever had, and the most prolific of results.
When not more than half-way back to camp, night over-
took us, and we lost our way in the.darkness. The spec-
tacle of a pair of bosom friends, old hunters, lost on a prai-
rie, or even in most forests, conjures up no feelings of horror
in the mind of thereader. To be lost in such a forest and on
such mountains as these, where the snow lies from two to
five feet deep; the smallest tree three feet in thickness; the
darkness so intense that you can cut it with a knife; the
only sounds being the sobbing and moaning of the trees,
the distant howl of the Mountain Wolf—a savage, cold-
blooded, cruel beast—or the scream of the Mountain Lion,
the occasional ‘‘ tu-hoot, tu-hoot, tu-tu-hoot”’ of the screech-
owl—is not pleasant, to say the least. Add to these the
knowledge that the first huge tree-trunk you come to may
harbor beneath its roots, entombed in a bed of snow, a huge
THE LYNX. 449
Cultus Bear, sleeping his long hibernal sleep, but needing
only a rap or a kick on the trunk of the tree to wake him
up and turn him out into the darkness, ‘‘madder’n a nest
of hornets,’ and you can readily imagine that we were
not exactly comfortable. We would far rather have been
tucked up in our beds at home, or be stretched out in
camp with a huge log fire hissing and crackling before us.
No, dear reader, I advise you never to get lost in the piny
forests of British Columbia, or in our Northwest mount-
ain ranges. You'll feel lonesome and homesick if you do.
But lost we were, and we knew that no amount of repin-
ing would enable us to find ourselves. After an immense.
amount of conjecturing and figuring as to where we were,
we decided that it was useless to try to reach camp that
night, and that our only means of living through it was to
build a big fire and keep it up. We ransacked the neigh-
borhood for dry limbs, dry leaves—in fact, anything dry;
but alas! dry things were not to be found. The soft, yield-
ing snow encased all in a mantle of peepehaat whiteness
and wetness.
Strips were cut from our clothing, and matches pulled,
and scratched across any dry spot that we could find; but
they soon burned out. The thought of remaining out this
cold, windy night without a fire became almost maddening.
One, two, three, a dozen shots were fired, in rapid suc-
cession, from our rifles. Hopeless hope! No hunter is
nearer than our.camp, and the solitary occupant of that is
far beyond the sound of our weapons. How gladly would
he find us, if only he knew where we were! It being
impossible to start a fire, and the cold becoming too great
for us to stand idle much longer, we were compelled to
resume our march.
We went floundering through snow and brush, scarcely
making any headway in the intense darkness. We tum-
bled, rolled, and wandered aimlessly on, hour after hour,
till, almost ‘sinking down through sheer weariness, we were
in utter despair. At intervals we fired our rifles, in hopes
of reaching the ear of some distant camp.
29
450 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
At last we fancy we hear a shot. Then another. Yes,
there are three more. Weare saved! Blindly groping our
way in the direction of the welcome sounds, we fire the last
shots remaining in our belts, and keep yelling at the top of
our voices. At last we hear the answering shouts, and soon
see the torch, carried by the party who so opportunely had
heard our shots.
Weare soon among them; they are Lummi Indians. Lead-
ing us to their camp, we are soon seated by a blazing fire.
For several minutes we absorb the warmth, too glad to-
utter a sound. Though no questions are asked by our res-
cuers, many questioning glances are cast in our direction.
Finally, having got our limbs and tongues thawed out,
the engineer proceeded to enlighten the Indians, in Chi-
nook, as to the reason. of our strange appearance amongst
them. They set before us a piece of venison and a bow] of
corn-mush, which soon -disappeared; then the pipe was
passed, and they all settled down again into gloomy silence.
A motley group were they—some young, some old; dark-
skinned, black-haired, broad-faced, heavy-limbed; short of
stature, but broad and long bodied, with short legs, reced-
ing brows, and prominent cheek and skull bones.
They sat cross-legged, gazing into the glowing coals, pay-
ing no further attention tous. They were a hunting-party
who were out after the Big Horns, the Deer, Elk, Cougar,
Bear, and’Coons. Their only weapons were the ancient
pieces of iron, with the wooden handles, such as are bar-
tered by the Hudson’s Bay Company in exchange for furs.
They are, however, carefully cleaned every night, oiled, and
put away in the woolen or buckskin sack, for further use
the following day.
The Puget Sound Indian is not, asa rule, a good shot,
but understands the habits of all game, and wild animals.
He is very saving of his ammunition, and wastes no powder
or balls on uncertainties. He must be close to his quarry
before his ancient piece of ordnance is discharged. Snaking
himself through the woods on all fours, traveling, perhaps,
not more than a hundred yards in an hour, he is a
THE LYNX. 451
relentless foe to the Deer or Elk. He is dirty and filthy in
his habits, subsisting principally on smoked salmon and salt
meat—living a life several degrees below that of a beast.
The glowing accounts of the noble red man which we.
have read in our youth, and the exalted opinion we have
held of his manly attributes, brave deeds, and daring mien,
are all dispelled upon being brought face to face with the
filthy reality. Gratitude or generosity are unknown ele-
ments in his make-up. There are many powerful, hardy
specimens of manhood among them, but this is attributable
to their out-door life, and wanderings in the forests and
mountains. Shrewdness and cunning they possess in a
marked degree, in all that pertains to their own interests.
Patience, also, is one of their leading characteristics.
A night in an Indian hovel under ordinary circumstances
would be unendurable, but on the occasion I have described
anything was preferable to the midnight howlings of the
woods. We passed the night as best we could among our
red brethren, but were up and off at the first streak of day-
light in the morning. Our homeward way was soon dis-
covered in the brightness of the sun, and a long, hard tramp
brought us again to our cabin, where we found our comrade
in a great state of fear, not knowing what had happened
to us.
THE WOLF.
By Wruiam Pittman Lert.
Hark to that minstrelsy, ringing and clear!
"Tis the chorus of death on the trail of the Deer!
The fierce forest Blood-hounds are gathering in might;
Their echoing yells wake the silence of night,
As relentless they stretch over mountain and plain,
The blood of their fast-speeding victim to drain.
They close—he stands proudly one moment at bay;
’Tis his last—they are on him to ravage and slay!
WHE Wolf belongs to the genus Canis, or Canine
family. According to Audubon and Bachman’s
“‘Quadrupeds of America,’ the Wolf has six inci-
ee? sors in the upper and six in the lower jaw, one
canine tooth in each jaw, and six molars above and six
below. The three first teeth in the upper jaw and the four
in the lower jaw are trenchant and small, and are also
called false molars. The great carnivorous tooth above is
bicuspid, with a small tubercle on the inner side; that below
has the posterior lobe altogether tubercular. There are two
tuberculous teeth behind each of the great carnivorous
teeth. The muzzle of the Wolf is elongate; the tongue
soft; the ears erect, but sometimes pendulous in the domes-
tic varieties. The fore feet are pentadactylous, or five-toed;
the hind feet, tetradactylous, or four-toed; the teats are
both inguinal and ventral.
The Gray Wolf of Canada—. e., the large Wolf of all
Northern America—is about five feet six inches in length,
from the point of the nose to extreme end of the tail;
ordinarily about twenty-six inches high at the shoulder,
larger ones, however, measuring twenty-eight inches in
height and weighing from seventy to one hundred pounds.
I give the latter measurement and height from the bodies
( 453 )
454 . BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA.
of Wolves that I have killed, and I am confident that I am
under rather than over the actual size and height of the
Gray Wolf.
There are several varieties of American Wolves, differ-
ing so much from each other, chiefly in color, as to lead some
naturalists. to the conclusion that they are different in spe-
cies, and that-they do not originate from the same primeval
stock. They are all about the same size, and band together
in the same pack; the white, gray, and red varieties being
specifically identical.
In size and other peculiarities, all the larger Wolves dif-
fer from the Prairie Wolf and the Coyote; both of these
smaller varieties burrow in the earth, are much less savage
and destructive, and much more docile and affectionate in
a state of domestication, than are those of any variety of
the larger species. According to the best zodlogical author-
ities, all the larger Wolves are dwellers upon the surface
of the earth—sleeping in the open air, or making their dens
in caves or crevices of rocks.
The most valuable skins are obtained from the White
Arctic Wolf; the next, in thickness of fur and costliness,
is the skin of the Gray Wolf of Northern America; and so
on down to the pelt of the black variety, which, being a
southern animal, ranging in a warmer habitat, carries the
thinnest and coarsest coat of the entire genus, and conse-
quently is of the least value.
The Gray Wolf, the variety most common in Canada,
bears avery striking resemblance to the European Wolf.
There are, however, differences between them, which at one
time appeared to be distinct and permanent. Naturalists
of late years appear to be unanimous in the conclusion that
the larger Wolves of the Old and New World all belong to
one species. The American Wolf, notably the Canadian
variety, is at least equal in size to that of any other
countKy- <.
Billings tells us that ‘‘the body of the American Wolf
is long and gaunt; muzzle elongated, and somewhat thicker
than that of the Pyrenean Wolf; head thick, nose long,
’ ' THE WOLF. 455
ears erect and conical, as is the case with all true Wolves;
pupil of the eye circular; tail straight—the animal does:
not carry it curled over his back, like a‘dog.”’
To this excellent description, I may add that the eye of
the American Wolf is of a light greenish color; its expres-
sion is sneaking and sinister, intermingled with an aspect
of cunning similar to, although surpassing in force, the
yellow eye of the Fox. As stated above, the tail of the
Wolf is bushy; but it is neither so long nor so elegantly
rounded.and heavy as that of a Fox.
At one time, the Gray Wolf was found all over the Con-
tinent of America, as far south as the Gulf of Mexico. It
is still to be met with in considerable numbers on the great
plains of the West, on the slopes of the Rocky Mountains,
and in more or less abundance, according to location,
in all the remote and sparsely settled portions of Canada,
Newfoundland, and Cape Breton. In voice, form, generic
character, and manner of hunting their prey, all the varie-
ties of the large North American Wolves are essentially
similar.
In the early history of Canada and the United States,
not less than in the valley of the Ottawa, Wolves were
dangerously abundant. In those old times, in all new set-
tlements, sheep—when a farmer was fortunate enough to
own any—had to be penned up carefully every night, other-
wise wool would certainly be flying before morning.
It was not alone that in one of those nocturnal raids many
sheep were devoured—that was not the worst feature of
the transaction. A couple of those blood-thirsty maraud-
ers, in one night would kill fifteen or twenty sheep, simply
tearing open their throats without otherwise mutilating
their carcasses.
After such a catastrophe, cheap mutton was easily pro-
curable; frequently, too, at a season of the year when the
old pioneers were obliged to live without meat of any kind,
fresh or salt, for months at a time. For the information
of those unacquainted with the hardships and privations of
the men who cut down the wilderness and cleared the land, ©
456 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
Imay say that this enforced economical fast usually did
not terminate until the pigs were killed, in December.
_ Apart from the information which I have derived from
the authentic records of natural history, I have had a
somewhat intimate personal acquaintance with this fero-
cious bandit of the wilderness, through practical observa-
tion, as well as by the agency of steel-traps. :
Now, it is a generally receive opinion—like many other
popular fallacies—that the Fox surpasses all other animals
in cunning. I have had what I-consider good and sufficient
reason to doubt the correctness of this ancient conclusion.
I think anyone who tries to catch a Wolf ina steel-trap
will agree with me, that the Wolf is a much more cunning
animal than the Fox.
In my younger days, I trapped many Wolves and Foxes,
as wéll as fishers, minks, and muskrats. I used no pun-
gent oils or other extraneous attractions to wile them, but
simply matched my own intelligence against their instinct-
ive cunning; and in the case of the Wolf, I have often, for
many successive days, found myself completely circum-
vented. ,
In proof of the persistent cunning of the Wolf, I may
relate a circumstance of some weight. While trapping, in
the month of December, 1840, I fastened a piece of liver
upon the knotty spike of a hemlock-tree, about three feet
from the ground, and set a Wwell-concealed trap under it.
The Wolves frequented the spot every night; and although
they tramped a circle in the snow six feet from the tree,
or twelve feet in diameter, their dread of the trap pre-
vented them from touching the meat, notwithstanding the
fact that it remained in its position until the first day of
April. .
A short distance from the same spot, during- the same
winter, I caught three Wolves, twenty-seven Foxes, three
fishers, and one marten. I experienced more difficulty in
capturing the Wolves than all the others put together.
I took the Wolves in the following manner: I deposited a
quantity of pigs’ livers and other offal in the center of a
THE WOLF. 457
dense cadar-swamp, near the’present site of the Carp Vil-
lage, in the Township of Huntly. I had heard the Wolves
howling after Deer on several occasions previously; and I
was also aware that they had killed a number of sheep and
a few young cattle in the immediate vicinity.
The Wolves soon scented the bait, and gathered around
it—asI frequently had the pleasure of listening to their
inimitable music in the swamp. I visited the spot three
times in each week, always. stepping in the same tracks
going and returning, from and back to the main traveled
road. I found that, during three weeks, they had not vent-
ured nearer than about six or eight feet of the bait, and
that up to that point the snow all around it was beaten
down by their tracks.
At the beginning of the fourth week, they attacked and
devoured the greater part of the offal. I then renewed the
bait, and set a trap in front of it where they had com-
menced eating. Iwas particular, after the trap was placed,
in leaving the surface of the snow exactly in the same con-
dition as I found it. Next morning I found the springs of
the trap bare; the snow had been scratched away, and the
bait had been eaten on the other side. I then set another
trap on the opposite side, and next morning found both
traps bare. I was somewhat puzzled, but I determined to
persevere. I then set both traps in such a manner that,
‘should the Wolves attempt the scratching trick again, the
first part of the traps that could possibly be touched would
be the pan. They came that night, and one remained there;
for, to my great satisfaction, I found him, in the morning,
fast in one of the traps. He was a fine, large specimen,
twenty-eight inches in height at the shoulder, and corres-
pondingly long-bodied and bulky. His weight must have
been at least eighty pounds, or perhaps more.
As it has fortunately turned out, for the purposes of
this sketch, I put Mr. Lupus through a somewhat critical
examination. I poked him up smartly, and experimented
upon him, with the view of learning something which I did
not then know about the amiable members of his interesting
458 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
race. I endeavored to make him give tongue, but failed.
Like a hound without a scent, he was silent. I could not
induce him to utter a sound; nor did he attempt either to
snarl or growl. .I noticed that when I stepped off a few paces,
at each step he “raised his body until standing at his full
height. At each step as [approached him again, he lowered
himself gradually until flat on the ground, with his head
between his paws, in-which position he remained as long as
I stood beside him. He seemed exceedingly shy and timor-
ous, but made no attempt to escape; while he was far too
cunning to display any ferocity. An otter, a fisher, or a
marten would have snarled, growled, and fought viciously
under similar conditions.
I feel convinced that with a dog-collar and chain, after
freeing him from the trap, I could without difficulty have
led him home. I put this idea to the test in the following
manner: For the purpose of fastening the trap, I cut down a
balsam sapling, aboutthree inches in diameter, the root end’
of which I cut off square. Into this I drove a staple, to
which I locked the chain of the trap with a small padlock.
_I then planted the tree precisely in-the position in which it
grew, and where the Wolves had been in the habit of seeing
it, night after night, for weeks.
When I had completed my zoélogical experiments, never
then expecting to tell my readers anything about them, I
unlocked the trap, and walked quietly off toward home.
The Wolf got up and followed me, without any resistance,
for about a quarter of a mile, when I accidentally tripped
_ over a large pine-root and fell. Had I not known something
about the history and character of my companion, there
might then and there have occurred a tragedy. The instant
I fell, and before I attempted to rise, I turned my head
quickly and looked my prisoner straight in the eye. I
found him with eyes flashing and his whole body gathered
for a spring. The moment I caught his eye, he cowered
before my gaze. Had I not been prompt, it is quite possible
that my present story might never have been told. How-
ever, I was young, strong, and active then, and the reader
THE WOLF. 459
may rest assured that I could not have been silenced with-
out a determined and sanguinary struggle. Long before
this, I had learned that it was dangerous to fall in the pres-
ence of even a domesticated Wolf. _
I need scarcely say that I did not trouble my amiable
companion to follow me any farther, lest I might get
another fall. With one blow of a stick which I usually
carried for the purpose, I laid him out ready for skinning;
as doubtless, in his time, he had treated many a beautiful
‘Deer prior to devouring it.
As I have before remarked, the three Wolves which I
had killed formed part of a pack that, during a few weeks
before their tragical departure to the hoppy -hunting-
grounds, had committed many serious depredations. I put
the succeeding two, each of which was equal in size to the
first one, through a similar investigating process, but failed
to elicit anything new. Ihad frequently heard the pack in
full cry, at night; and although, if heard close at hand, the
sound might have proved terrifying to persons not gifted
with an ear capable of appreciating Nature’s magnificent
harmonies, so far as 1am a judge of music, the moonlight
concert of those Wolves seemed to me to be the ne plus
ultra of forest harmony.
The Madawaska River, which was once, so far as unri-
valed natural beauty could make it so, the rushing, foaming
queen of Ottawa’s peerless tributaries, has along its tur-
bulent course many rapids and chutes of wondrous grand-
eur and beauty. One of those chutes, about one hundred
miles from the City of Ottawa, is called the Wolf Port-
age. It was so named on account of the Wolves chasing
Deer into the water at that point during winter. The
hunted Deer were in the habit of rushing into the rapids to
escape the fangs of their sanguinary pursuers. In catching
the Deer at the Wolf Portage, the Wolves displayed much
cunning. When a Deer took to water at the head, it was
quickly carried over the rough chute and down the rapids
into the gradually narrowing, ice-inclosed glade, or channel,
at the foot. Just at the spot where the current drove
460 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
it against the ice, under which it would immediately be
whirled, a number of the Wolves stood on the ice, and the
instant the Deer touched its edge, it was seized by the
fierce and hungry animals, dragged out.upon the ice, and’
devoured. In the early lumbering- -times upon the Mada-
waska, the skeletons of Deer could always be seen, in win-
ter, lying on the ice at the foot of the Wolf Portage.
So numerous were the Wolves on the Madawaska, that,
during the years 1840 and 1841, the Deer were driven com-
pletely out of the large section of country lying between
the High Falls and Keminiskeek Lake—a distance of sixty
miles. In 1844 the Deer began gradually to reappear; and
when they returned in force to their old haunts, the Wolves
followed them, hunting them back to their old habitat,
where for years they have been comparatively abundant.
The old Stony Swamp, on the Richmond road, in the
Township of Nepean, twelve miles from Ottawa, was at
one time much infested by Wolves, chiefly on account of
its Having been a famous fastness for Deer. The Wolves
of the Stony Swamp did considerable damage amongst the
flocks in the neighborhood.
In connection with this old road, I remember an incident
which took place there in the year 1830. In that early
period in the history of the County of Carleton, oxen
were chiefly used for all purposes of travel and draught by
the farmers, simply because they had no horses. Farm
produce, such as hay, oats, wheat, corn, and potatoes, were
then hauled to Bytown market on ox-sleighs; and then, as
-now, the journey was partly performed in the night.
One clear, moonlight night, a farmer from the westerly
part of Nepean was driving his heavily laden oxen along
the lonely windings of the road through the Stony
Swamp. The season was winter. He had a small dog
with him, which was running along a short distance in
front of the team. Suddenly, he heard a piteous howl
from the dog, and looking in the direction of the sound,
saw an enormous Wolf darting away through the trees with
the struggling dog in his mouth.
THE WOLF. 461
During the first few years after the early settlement of
Hull, Wolves were numerous and destructive in the neigh-
borhood. They had killed many sheep, and had, also, very
much disturbed the minds of timid people by their nightly
howlings. Something decisive had to be done to abate the
nuisance. A hunter set a trap, and succeeded in capturing
one of the offenders. He muzzled him, and skinned part of
his head and sides, and then fastened a broad, red collar,
to which was attached a bell, around his neck. The Wolf
was then liberated; and, according to the story, Wolves
became scarce around Hull, and remained so for many
years. » :
In October, 1839, when the trees, the stately sentinels of
earth, seemed to wear the livery of heaven, I was out, one
morning, duck-shooting. The time was the interval of twi-
light just preceding the dawn. Suddenly, I heard the voices
of a large pack of Wolves in full cry after a Deer. The
River Goodwood, upon the bank of which I stood, is about
forty yards wide. The Wolves were running in thick
cover, a short distance from the shore, on the opposite side.
The moment was an exciting one, but I have no recollection
of having been frightened in the least. I stood close to the
edge of the water, ready to tackle them with a single-
barreled muzzle-loader charged with No. 3 shot, and regret-
ted that they did not show themselves. The Deer and its
pursuers passed rapidly on through the thick undergrowth;
and shortly afterward the Wolves caught the Deer, as indi-
cated by the ceasing of their howls. Clear daylight then
appeared; and, if I remember correctly, ten wild ducks con-
stituted the result of my morning’s tramp before breakfast.
Thad no dog with me, and consequently had to swim after
every one of them.
On various occasions, in many a hunt since the occur-
- rence referred to, I have listened to the matchless melody
of the hounds in full cry upon the steaming trail of the
Deer. I need scarcely tell the sportsman who has been
there, how far such a chorus surpasses the highest and
most scientific effort of a full cornet-band. Nevertheless,
462 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
such a wild, weird, clear-sounding, musical performance as
that with which I was favored on the morning in question,
I have never since heard.
The ‘‘angry growl’ attributed to the Wolf by the nov-
elist and the literary story-teller—who possibly never saw
or heard one, and knows, perhaps, as little, either practi-
cally or theoretically, about the animal as the generality of
ordinary writers do about the correct mode of writing the
Tipperary idiom—is just as far from the natural habit
of the Wolf as is its capacity for playing the Highland
bagpipe. _
Talking of the bagpipe, I once read an account of a
benighted piper in an American forest who was surrounded
by Wolves, and, as a last resort, he struck up ‘‘The Camp-
bells are Coming,’’ and the result was that the Wolves
took flight as if pursued by a prairie-fire. Neither Lion,
Tiger, Wolf, Jaguar, or Grizzly Bear could face, for one
minute, the charge of a Highland piper in full blast with
the pibroch.
Personally, if accompanied by two thorough-bred Bull-
terriers of good size, and armed with a Winchester repeat-
ing-rifle, I should be delighted at any time, in daylight, to
pay my respects to six of the largest Wolves in America.
About twelve years ago, the hunting-party to which I
have the honor to belong was encamped on the bank of
Bear Brook, about twelve miles from Ottawa. It was during
a very cold time, in the month of December—a fact which I
distinctly remember, in consequence of having to cut a large
supply of birch stove-wood to keep the tent warm.
During our stay in camp, on ‘one occasion, about mid-
night, we were awakened by the howling of Wolves near at
hand, accompanied by a noise like that made by a large
animal jumping through the snow. Rifles were grasped, but
the noise suddenly ceased, and all again became still. By
the tracks found in the snow, next morning, we learned that
a large buck had run within less than twenty feet of the
back of our tent, and had then turned aside. Upon follow-
ing the tracks of the Deer a short distance, the foot-prints
THE WOLF, 463 .
of the Wolves were discovered. We did not follow the trail
far; had we done so, we should doubtless, sooner or later,
have found the mangled remains of the Deer. Had the
buck given one more jump from the spot where his tracks
appeared at the back of the tent, we should have had an
immediate row of more than ordinary interest and excite-
ment. I have often regretted that the Deer and the Wolves
did not land amongst us. In that case, I could have given
you a true story eclipsing the most florid narrative of the
most ingenious and accomplished newspaper reporter of the
present’ day.
Wolves were quite numerous in the Township of Glou-
cester, adjacent to the City of Ottawa, up to a few years
ago; and doubtless there are many still, in the solitudes of
the vast tamarack and cedar swamps still existing within
less than twenty-five miles of the City of Ottawa.
In December, 1868, Doctor Bell, of New Edinburgh, was
driving through the long swamp below Eastman’s Springs.
At that time there were many Wolves within even fen miles
of the City of Ottawa. While jogging along at an ordinary
rate, the Doctor’s horse suddenly became restive, pricked
up his ears in a startled manner, and stood still. Just then
a Deer crossed the road a few yards in front of the horse.
The howling of Wolves close by greeted the ears of the Doc-
tor, and after a few seconds eleven of these ferocious sleuth-
hounds of the forest rushed across the road on the trail of
the tired Deer, which, without doubt,was soon pulled down
and torn to pieces. What a glorious chance for a repeating-
rifle! The worthy Doctor, however, although a keen sports-
man, was armed only with what modern pathological
Science regards as the most killing weapon, at short range,
of the faculty—his lancet.
Roman history tells us that Romulus and Remus, the
founders of the City of the Seven Hills, were suckled and
reared by a she-Wolf. If this story be true, the foster-
mother of those distinguished sons of the Tiber in her
nature was not all Wolf. This incident has been partially
paralleled by the story of Androcles and the Lion, as well
464 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
as by that of Maldonata and the Puma. All three of these
interesting incidents are highly creditable to the character
of the brute creation. Itis certain that the ancient Romans,
as a race, inherited none of the characteristic cowardice
which fine- drawn physiological science might trace to the
source of their ancestors’ early sustenance. Nevertheless,
the blood-thirsty and predatory instincts of the Lupine race
were amply exemplified by the humane and gentle rule of
many of the Roman Emperors—notably, Caligula, Nero,
Galba, and Vitellius.
In the history of America, the instances have been rare
indeed in which Wolves are authentically reported to have
attacked human beings. Emboldened by numbers and
stimulated by hunger, the Wolves of Russia and Siberia
have for ages been a standing threat and terror to night
travelers in the inhospitable countries mentioned, in the
dangerous mountain fastnesses of which they are met with
in such multitudes. Ina part of the world in which the
humanizing influences of a refined civilization for hundreds
of years found no resting-place, it was the custom in intes-
tine wars to leave the dead and dying on the field of battle—
to rot, or be devoured by beasts of prey. Is it any wonder
that, under such conditions, like the Bengal Tiger, the
Wolves of Russia became man-eaters ?
In contradistinction to the habits of their European con-
geners, North American Wolves, although comparatively
bold under the pressure of hunger, dread the presence of
man, and flee from him, as do the Deer and the Black Bear.
I remember a story current in old times, about a gigantic
Indian named Clouthier—a rather Gallic designation for a
pure Algonquin—who was well known to the late Squire
Wright, the founder of the ancient Village of Hull. My
story may be quite true in every particular, for the Indian
in question was of Herculean proportions and almost
superhuman strength. On one of his hunting excursions,
Clouthier was attacked and torn to pieces by a large pack
of Wolves. It was surmised by those who discovered his
remains and fragments of his clothing, that after he had
THE WOLF. 465
shot one of his assailants with his single-barreled, flint-lock
gun, he had drawn his tomahawk from his belt, and fought
desperately for his life. From the number of skulls and
other portions of the bodies of the Wolves found at the
scene of the tragedy, it was concluded that the Indian had
killed fourteen of the Wolves before he had’ been over-
powered—all of which had been devoured by their fellows
excepting the bones. Like his scriptural prototype, the
Algonquin Sampson did not fall unavenged.
In connection with my subject, the following story may
prove interesting. It is an old tradition now. I shall give
it as told by a great-grandson of the hero of the tale, who
died, in this county, about ten years ago. Whether true
or not, it is a credited tradition amongst the Tete du Boule
Indians, who inhabit the region surrounding the upper and
head waters of the Gatineau, one of the largest tributaries
..of the Ottawa River, the point of confluence of which with
the latter stream is within about one mile of the north-
eastern limits of the City of Ottawa.
During the early settlement of Canada by the French, an
adventurous hunter named Baptiste Sabourin penetrated
this northern wilderness, and began trapping and hunting
within the limits of the hunting-grounds of the Tete du
Boule Indians, about two hundred miles north of the
Ottawa River. His adventure was a daring one, but the
temptation was great, as, at that early day, the forests
were full of game. Moose, Caribou, Otters, Beavers, Bears,
and Black Foxes abounded in those primeval solitudes, the
peltries of which could be advantageously disposed of
at Montreal and Quebec. ‘
Sabourin had been hunting but a short time when he
was discovered and surprised by a party of Indians, who
took him prisoner and brought him before Wanonga, the
chief of the Tete du Boules. A council was called, and
‘after the usual deliberations, the daring hunter was con-
demned to death; but, as in the case of Pocahontas and
Captain John Smith, the execution of the sentence was
30
466 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
arrested by the hand of a woman. The French hunter
appears to have been a fine, handsome fellow, twenty-five
years of age, six feet tall, and of lithe, manly proportions.
His admirable proportions and physical beauty had made a
strong impression upon Tamiroo, the only daughter of the
chief, a lovely girl of eighteen, whose stately, upright
figure, finely cut features, and flashing black eyes had not
escaped the notice of the condemned man.
When the prisoner was about. to be delivered over to
the tender mercies of the elder Indian women, the chief's
daughter interceded with her father for his life. Her inter-
cession proved successful, and Sabourin became a member
of the tribe. A mutual affection, or a case of ‘‘ love at first
sight,’ seems to have influenced the two young people, for,
after a short residence with the Indians, the couple were
married according to the nuptial ceremonial of the tribe,
and Sabourin remained to the end of his life among his
dusky friends. In the course of time he became the most
expert and daring hunter amongst them.
Late in the fall, on one of his hunting excursions, the
white hunter encountered two large bucks of the Woodland
Caribou species. They had been fighting, and their antlers
became interlocked in a most inextricable manner. Strange
to say, and entirely contrary to what a pure Indian would
have done, he did not kill them, but immediately repaired
to the camp for assistance to take them alive. In company
with a number of Indians, he returned to the scene of
battle, and the two animals were secured, and bound with
strong thongs of Deer-skin. Afterward, they were sepa-
rated by cutting away a prong or two from the antlers of
one of them.
The animals, securely bound, were then drawn on tobog-
gans to the camp. A suitable inclosure was then formed,
in which they were placed. They were liberally supplied
with mosses, lichens, and other food, by the younger mem-
bers of the community, and soon became tame and docile.
After a few months’ confinement, they became great pets,
and in due time were liberated, and the gate of the inclos-
THE WOLF. 467
ure was left open. For many days they did not leave the
vicinity of the camp. Finally, they became almost as
domestic in their habits as cows. They frequently wan-
dered off in the woods, but invariably returned in the even-
_ing and slept in the inclosure; although on many occasions
they remained feeding upon the plains all night, and then
would come back in the morning.
About a year after the capture of the animals, and when
they were unusually tame, Sabourin conceived the idea of
training them to harness. He made a set of rude harness
out of the thick, strong hide of the Moose; and before hitch-
ing them to his ¢raine sauvage, he drove them around
abreast for some days, at the first trial having them led by
one of the young Indian boys. After about three weeks of
patient training, he had the satisfaction of being able to
drive them wherever he pleased, as the Laplander does his
Reindeer. In his hunting excursions, Sabourin found his
horned team of trotters of the greatest use. On the wide,
open plains, he was accustomed to drive close up to a herd
of Caribou without alarming them in the least, and thus
was enabled to obtain many a sure and successful shot
without subjecting himself to the labor and fatigue of a
slow and protracted stalk upon this wary game.
According to the story, the two Deer remained with the
hunter for eight years. They were frequently absent in the
forest for two or three days at a time, but, strange to say,
never appeared to separate, and never failed to return. The
younger members of the tribe wondered at what they
thought the magic of the white man, attested by the taming
of such proverbially wild and shy animals. To some of the
elders of the tribe, however, the accomplishment of the dif-
ficult task did not seem so unaccountable. They appeared
to have had a dim recollection of a tradition, handed down
from one generation to another, from the far-back past,
that their remote ancestors, in other lands, had been accus-
tomed to use the Reindeer for similar purposes.
Can it be that a possibility exists of a lineal relationship
existing between the Laplanders and the aborigines of the
468 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
North American Continent? There certainly appear to
exist some strongly marked physical similarities between
the Tete du Boule Indians and the Laplanders.
Now I am obliged to come to the melancholy and tragic
part of the story, which, were it a mere fiction, instead of
a generally accepted tradition in the unwritten records of
the tribe, I should tell in a different manner.
.On one occasion, as usual with him, Sabourin was out
alone, hunting Caribou. He had driven his team up to a
herd, and had succeeded in killing two of their number.
He was then about twenty miles from home. Shortly
before sunset, he had fastened the carcasses to his sledge
and started for home, which he expected to reach in a
couple of hours.
Night had fallen, and while passing through a pine for-
est, he was suddenly startled by the howling of Wolves
close at hand; and before he could unloose and throw the
carcasses off his sledge, the savage animals, in great num-
bers, rushed upon his team, both of which they pulled
down and tore to pieces in a few minutes. Meanwhile, the
hunter had climbed to the branches of a pine-tree. He
carried his gun up with him, and commenced firing down
upon the dark mass of Wolves. He killed a number
of them, as was seen afterward, which were soon devoured
by their fellows; but his ammunition soon became ex-
hausted. Still the blood-roused monsters kept watch.
Daylight at last came, and all was silence in that dreary
solitude. Not having arrived at the camp,.fears were felt
for his safety, and a searching- -party started upon his trail
next day, and on arriving at the scene of the last night’s:
tragedy, they discovered the missing man still seated on a
branch of the pine, about twelve feet from the ground.
One of the Indians climbed up, after vainly uttering many
shouts to wake him from his sleep, as they imagined, and
upon touching the hunter, he found that he was dead. He
had been frozen stiff.
It is well known that intense cold superinduces sleep.
The Indians rightly concluded that poor Sabourin had
“ENFANT PERDU,”
THE WOLF. 469
fallen asleep; and so it was. Worn out by fatigue, anxiety,
and watching, he was seized by that fatal and everlasting
slumber which, in this world, knows no waking.
Tamiroo was stricken with frantic grief at the tragical
death of her husband, for whom she had entertained the
most constant and fervent affection. She mourned sincerely
for him for many months. After the period of her devoted
mourning was at an end, being still comparatively young,
her hand was sought by a number of the most distin-
guished warriors of the tribe; but, ever true to the memory
of the last partner of her life, she turned a deaf ear to their
entreaties, and devoted herself to the rearing of her two
sons in those valued branches of wood-craft essential to the
character of a brave warrior and expert hunter. At the
present day, the very best blood of the Tete du Boules can
be traced back to the intrepid hunter, Baptiste Sabourin.
Were my narrative simply a romance of fancy, I might
have ended it by causing the faithful, bereaved wife, under
the influence of a paroxysm of grief, to precipitate herself
from some convenient cliff, or to end her sorrows beneath
the waters of some placid lake. I have preferred, however,
to relate the incidents of the tragedy as they have been
chronicled and handed down by the traditions of the tribe.
I have said chronicled, for it is well known that, in many
of the aboriginal tribes, records of famous and notable
events are perpetuated by signs and symbols inscribed or
depicted upon rolls of smooth birch-bark.
Hunting the Wolf in Canada is chiefly confined to trap-
ping, or poisoning by strychnine, the latter being a ques-
tionable and unsportsmanlike mode of destroying wild
animals, which, except in very peculiar cases, ought to be
frowned upon and discouraged. Many of the animals
killed by poison wander off a long distance before they
die, suffering dreadful torture, and are never found.
Wolves are seldom seen in the woods; even by those
whose vocations oblige them continually to travel through
the most solitary fastnesses. So keen is the eye and the
470 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
ear, and so acute is the Wolf’s sense of smell, that the
hunter or bush-ranger is either seen, scented, or heard before
he has any idea that a Wolf had been near. Now and
then an accidental shot may be obtained, but even such
chances are few and far between.
Six years ago, I saw an enormous Wolf on the Mada-
waska River. He had been started by another hunter from
the top of a mountain, and had rushed down the side of a
ravine, at the end of which I was watching for him. When
nearly within range, he jumped up, and stood upon a log
behind two pine-trees, which concealed every part of his
body but his nose and the end of his tail. Neither of the
visible parts. being as vulnerable as the nose of a bear, I
waited for him to advance one more step. This he did not
do, but jumped off the log and disappeared in the thick
brush and tall weeds. . Thus I lost my chance of getting a
grand trophy, and thus, owing to his escape, I feel con-
vinced that many a beautiful Deer afterward lost its life.
Spearing the Gray Wolf on the open prairies, in the
style of ‘‘ pig-sticking’’ in India, is a most exciting kind
of sport. Some of the more expert cowboys also have great
sport roping him. This is usually only practiced where
several of the men are riding together, in order that they
may harass and turn the Wolf at frequent intervals, thus
breaking his speed and playing into each other’s hands.
These runs are not, however, always unattended by dan-
ger, occasioned by badger-holes and prairie-dog towns,
which are frequently encountered in the chase. But the
grandest sport with the Gray, or, as he is called on the
plains, the Timber Wolf, may be enjoyed in coursing the
animal with strong and courageous Greyhounds. Although
the Gray Wolf is an animal of great speed and endurance,
he is soon overtaken by the fleet-footed Gazehounds, which
snap at and wound him with their powerful jaws and teeth,
and by their extreme agility avoid his dangerous attacks,
keeping him at bay until the mounted hunter arrives and
terminates the chase by a well-directed pistol-shot. In
consequence of the swiftness and great staying powers of
CoS AS
THE WOLF. ATL
the Wolf, for a time this kind of hunting taxes all the
energies of the hounds. The speed of the Wolf, neverthe-
less, when contrasted with the lightning performances of
the telephone of the prairies—the jack-rabbit, or great lare
of the plains—is comparatively trifling.
It has been affirmed by the earlier naturalists that the
aborigines of North America, before the advent of white
men, had domesticated Wolves instead of dogs. This
account can readily be credited by anyone acquainted with
the character and appearance of the Indian dog of even
the present day. While smaller in size—a condition super-
induced by ages of starvation—the Indian dog of the pres-
ent is peculiarly and positively wolfish in appearance.
It is a notable fact that an irreconcilable antipathy has
always existed between our domestic dog and the tamed
Wolf of the Indians. In their constant combats and quar-
rels with each other, the former are always the aggressors.
The Indian dogs always act upon the defensive, usually
trying to avoid a conflict with their more courageous
' kinsmen.
‘During the period when the lordly Bison frequented and
ornamented, with the grandeur of his magnitude, the lim-
itless prairies of the Great Northwest in countless millions,
the Wolf was his persistent and perpetual enemy; tracking
the calves, the old, the wounded, and the helpless, until an
opportunity presented itself for a safe attack. Wolves
never dared to attack a herd, or even a full-grown animal in
full vigor, but waited patiently for a chance to fall upon
the disabled. A single White Arctic Wolf will run down
a Barren-ground Caribou, and by one savage bite in the
flank disable the largest buck. Sir John Richardson—a
celebrated Arctic explorer, who has contributed many
interesting and valuable facts pertaining to the fauna of
Northern America to the general fund of natural history—
tells us that the Wolves of that region run down and capt-
ure Foxes whenever they find them on the open plains at
a distance from their underground dens. A large White
Wolf has sufficient strength to carry ‘off an Arctic Fox in
472 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
his mouth, at a rate of speed far surpassing that of hunters
upon snow-shoes. They frequently, also, attack and carry
off the sleigh-dogs of the Indians.
The Northern Indians improve the breed of their sleigh-
dogs by crossing them with the Wolf. This process adds
to "HELE size, speed, and strength. The voice of the Wolf
and that of the Indian dog, to my own personal knowledge,
in volume and sound are strikingly similar. I remember
having hunted Deer, many years ago, with a large-sized
Indian dog. He was one of the best dogs that I ever
turned loose upon a Deer-track. As he unflaggingly pur-
sued his quarry, his tongue was distinctly and unmistak-
ably the howl of a Wolf—loud, clear, and prolonged, with-
out a single sharp bark like that of adog. This dog, true
to the blood of his ancestry, never failed to find a Deer, if
there was one within reach; and when once the game was
found, he stuck to the trail, like his wild progenitors, until -
he tasted blood.
When I speak of Indian dogs, I do not mean the miser-
able, diminutive race of curs generally found in starving
annoyance around an Indian camp to-day. Such attenu-
ated whelps, in my opinion, can trace their origin to the
Fox; certainly not to the Wolf. Tallude to the strong and ~*
hardy Wolf-dogs as the traveler finds them, drawing the
sleighs of the Indians in the Northwest, and speeding the
Eskimos over the snow, beneath the crackling flame of
the Aurora Borealis, in the Arctic Circle.
The late Sheriff Dickson, of Pakenham, who during
many years of his life was a most ‘successful Deer-hunter,
and an enthusiastic student of geology, in an article on
the Gray Wolf, published many years ago in ‘‘ Billing’s
’ Canadian Naturalist and Geologist,”’ gives us many inter-
esting particulars respecting the Wolf. From personal
experience, he bears testimony to the proverbial cowardice
of Wolves. He states that when caught ina trap, wounded
by a gunshot, or cornered up so that they could not escape,
‘he invariably killed them with a club or a tomahawk ‘with-
out meeting any resistance. When in numbers, he had seen
THE WOLF. 473
Wolves display boldness after they had pulled down a
Deer; but they always gave way when a shot was fired
among them. The experience of Mr. Dickson corresponds
in all points with my own.
_ When pursued by Wolves, Deer make for the nearest
water, in which they have a chance to escape, being able to
swim much faster than their enemies. Should the river or
lake be narrow, the Deer generally swim either up or down,
seldom straight across; frequently landing, after a detour,
on the same side in which they entered the water. By this
- means the Wolves are puzzled and put off the scent. If
there are thick weeds or brush along the shore, a Deer fre-
quently sinks his body under water so that no part will
appear above the surface but his head, and by this means is
enabled to evade the cunning of his pursuers. On glare-ice,
the Wolf soon ends the chase. When frightened, the
Deer falls at every bound, and is easily overtaken.
Should the Deer be driven into a strong rapid, and the
Wolves attempt to follow, they get swept off their feet, and
are carried down the rapids. Should one of them hold his
own, and approach close enough, a large buck will often kill
him with a blow of his sharp hoof. Courageous hounds are
often killed in the same manner. When there is a crust on
the snow which will bear the Wolves, but which is not
strong enough to support the Deer, vast numbers of the
latter are killed by those sanguinary marauders.
From personal experience, I have no hesitation in assign-
ing to the Wolf of the Ottawa Valley—the typical Gray
Wolf of North America—if not a preéminence in size and
weight, at least an equality in magnitude, and. in all other
amiable characteristics of the genus Zupus, with his blood
relations of any other land. -
_COURSING THE GRAY WOLF.*
By Duncan 8. CaGE.
question as to the best dog to use in coursing the Gray
Wolf was a vital one, and my experience in the mat-
=~ ter may prove of interest to other lovers of that grand
sport. Let me premise by saying that I firmly believe that
any dog—no matter of what breed or strength—that will,
single-handed, seize and hold his grip on a Gray Wolf will
hardly survive his first encounter. The thick hair and
tough, loose skin of the Wolf protect him from serious
injury from the dog’s teeth, while his own powerful fangs
cut at each snap like a circular-saw. Of course, where a
number of large dogs, of almost any breed, close in on a
Wolf, they may, in a combined attack, easily pull him
down and kill him, whereas it would be suicidal for any
one or two of them to attempt it alone.
My conclusion was, that if destruction of the Wolves
is the only object, the ordinary Fox-hound is by odds the
best; not that dogs of this breed can capture or kill his
Wolfship, but they trail him, to his den, and this once
located, his death is easily compassed. We used to use-
balls of cotton soaked in liquid carbolic acid and turpen-
tine, and, igniting them, throw them in. In most cases this
soon brought the game out, so nearly suffocated that he
could be killed with a club—though I must say we did not
practice this mode of dispatching him. A wheezing, foam-
ing, staggering Wolf might well bluff the Sorosis Club
itself; so we generally preferred to pierce him with bullets,
| LIVED some years in the Texas Panhandle, where the
* From Sports Afield, by kind permission of the publishers.
(475) 4
476 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. .
while we stood at a safe distance. This method was effect-
ive in the whelping-season, and men were employed spe-
cially for this work on the ranch where I was then working
—one of the largest in that section. There is, however,
little sport in this; but, with the proper accessories, the
Wolf furnishes as exciting a run as the most enthusiastic
rider could wish.
To my mind, there is always something lacking in a
sport where the game is helpless when caught. No matter
how the pulses throb during the wild chase, there is always
a sharp revulsion when the hoarse, agonized bleat of the
Antelope tells that the fangs of his fierce pursuers are rend-
ing his fleet limbs, or even when the sharp scream of the
jack-rabbit ends the chase; but there are no such com-:
punctions when the cruel Wolf feels the tortures he has so
often inflicted on others; and he is a formidable adversary
when, grim and bristling, he turns at bay.
As to the question of speed, it is mostly a matter of
condition. A gorged Wolf is not fast, and I have shot
several in this state by running up to them on average cow-
ponies; but when properly ‘“‘gaunted,” few horses can catch
a Gray Wolf; and they have tremendous endurance.
On the ranch I mentioned, we had seven cross-bred Stag-
hounds and Greyhounds that ran and fought well together,
and we all looked forward each season to the brief interval
between the close of winter work and the. spring round-up,
when we would have leisure for hunting. Though we killed
many Gray Wolves, it was always necessary to shoot them.
after the dogs overhauled them. They could keep the
Wolves down, but could not kill them. '
I shall never forget the first one they caught. Wolves
had shown up numerously that winter, and in my camp we
were all eager to go into headquarters in spring and take
the dogs out after them. Many were the speculations as to
how the dogs would come out—whether they would tackle
the Wolf, etc.
At last the momentous day arrived; and behold us, six in
number, mounted on our ‘‘top-horses,’”’ sallying forth in
COURSING THE GRAY WOLF. 4T7
search of our wily foes. How the day comes back to me
now as my mind reverts to it, and
“‘ Old memories crowd upon me;
Old forms go trooping past.”
’ The day was perfect. The breath of spring was in the
air; a subtle perfume rose from the tender grass crushed
under our horses’ feet as they:-moved under us with that
--gtrong and springy step which is in itself a joy. Our gallant
dogs were all eagerness as they threw their lithe forms in
the air and bounded with delighted yelps around us. We
were all true friends and comrades. What more could
mortal wish ?
In the distance rose the abrupt wall of the great Staked
Plain, and around us stretched the gently rolling Valley of
the Canadian, with its emerald carpet of buffalo-grass—an
ideal coursing-ground, Antelope were in sight in many
places; but to-day our thoughts were on fiercer game, and
we avoided them, keeping the dogs close to us. Thus we rode
for several miles, keeping a sharp lookout for Wolves, but
beginning to fear that we were doomed to disappointment.
At length, glancing toward a ridge on the left, I caught a
fleeting glimpse of some animal disappearing over its crest.
Hardly daring to hope that it was a Wolf, we galloped to
the top-of the ridge, and a simultaneous yell broke from our
lips as, less than two hundred yards away, moving along
with that indescribably lazy and insolent lope he assumes
when he thinks a safe distance is between him and an
enemy, we saw a large Gray Wolf.
At the sound of our voices, he glanced back, and, drop-
ping his insouciance, lit out likea gray streak; and well he
might, for behind him the dogs were vaulting across the
prairie with the velocity, almost, of so many arrows, and
were closing in on the fated prowler despite his most
strenuous efforts to leave them behind. The horses, strain-
ing every nerve, as in a quarter-race, were keeping well up;
while, to ease our minds, encourage the dogs, and rattle the
Wolf, we were giving vent to yells which would not have
discredited a Comanche. The dogs were running well
478 BIG GAME OF NORTH. AMERICA.
bunched, and gaining rapidly. Nowa quarter has been run,
and hardly twenty yards separate them from the chase. Our
yells redouble as, with a magnificent spurt, our favorite,
Kate, shoots out from the press, and, with strides the eye
can scarcely follow, closes on the Wolf as if he were tied.
Quick as thought he turns at bay; but Kate avoids the
gleaming fangs, and seizes his hind leg as she flies past.
Both come to the ground with the shock, and before he can
rise the pack is on him. In a moment more we are up.
Each man shouts encouragement to the dogs, holding
aloft his ready six-shooter in one hand, while the other
restrains his plunging horse as the animal rears from the
writhing, growling mass almost under his feet. Several
sharp yelps tell of cuts inflicted by the clashing jaws of the
grim quarry, and each of us is waiting for a chance to fire
without danger to the dogs or horses. The dogs fight with
courage and skill—with quick, sharp snaps—leaping back
out of reach; for the dog that holds his grip on a Wolf, in
the language of the range, ‘‘may linger, but he can’t stay.”’
Suddenly, with a mighty effort, the wolf shakes himself
free from his foes and gains his feet. What a picture of
ferocity !—his rumpled hair bristling, jaws dripping bloody
foam, gray eyes glaring with demoniac fury. Small won-
der that the dogs shrink for a moment into a wider circle!
He sees his chance, and makes a dash for liberty; but it is
fatal, for it brings him past the best shot on the range.
Judy, the nearest dog, bounds on the Wolf; but, ere she
touches him, the shot has sped, and he lies quivering on
the ground.
The dogs rush in, worry and mangle him to their heart’s
content. We dismount, and placing our hats on the
ground, pour the water from our canteens in their indented
crowns to refresh our panting allies. A brief rest is taken,
during which praise and petting is lavished on our proud
dogs, Kate coming in for a double share; and having
secured the scalp of our victim, we return leisurely to fight
the battle over again over the bountiful ranch dinner, and
plan new forays against the marauding Wolves.
THE WOLVERINE.
By C. A. Coopsr (‘‘ SIBYLLENE”),
XCEPT to naturalists and dwellers in the Arctic
regions, the characteristics of the Wolverine are but
slightly known. In the temperate and torrid zones,
*\ we find people able to minutely describe the hoop-
snake; but ask these people, or even their better-informed
neighbors, what they know about the Wolverine, and if
you do not get the answer, ‘‘ Well, there are plenty of them
in Michigan, but I never happened to see one,” you will
probably be given some of the fifteenth-century theories of
Olaus Magnus, a better archbishop than naturalist, whose
writings upon this animal have been handed down with
clock-work regularity.
Naturally, there are various: causes for this lack of
knowledge, the first and foremost being that the Wolverine
has virtually been exterminated within the borders of the
United States. Even in the ‘‘good old days”’ there were
comparatively few of them.
The menageries and zodlogical gardens know him not,
and his stuffed form is principally noted for its absence
’ from a majority of the museums throughout the land.
Were it not for the frequent revival of the name, through
‘Michigan being known as the Wolverine State, the fact
that such an animal exists would be unknown to a majority
of the busy-people of this continent.
Being nocturnal, wary, and solitary in habit, it is not
surprising that the "Wolverine is so seldom seen; especially
as it now inhabits only the boreal regions, or the most
secluded portions of elevated forests in the north temper-
ate zone. With the exception of one or two points in
British America, it can not be said to have been abundant
(479)
480 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
at any time, as the following partial comparative record of
Hudson’s Bay Company’s sdles conclusively shows: ‘‘Sa-
bles, four millions; minks, two and a half millions; otters,
one and a half millions, Wolverines, one hundred thou-
sand.”’
Except when some overwise old Wolverine has taken a
contract to persistently destroy their traps, the Hudson’s
Bay trappers do not make them a particular object of pur- ’
suit, on account of their extreme cunning, and scarcity,
and their mid-rank in value among fur-bearing animals.
When, too, we consider that the severe winters, and insect
pests at other seasons, keep all save a few hardy adventur-
ers from invading its domain; that only the outlying dis-
tricts receive nocturnal visits from the animal when it is on
the verge of starvation, and that until recently the outskirts
of its territory have been free from railroad encroachments,
we see why the few sober and reliable articles upon this
species have failed to dispel the mystery and exaggeration
of centuries.
In Northern Europe and Asia, the animal is generally
known as the Glutton, the term Wolverine being an Ameri-
canism of the eighteenth century.
Owing to the difficulty of getting reliable data, nearly
every country or tribe has seen fit to invest the animal with
a name which, in the opinion of the original investigators,
had some distinguishing reference to the supposed form
or character of the beast; but, in addition to Wolverine ©
and Glutton, the only one not substantially local is the
French Canadian Carcajou, which is also well known to
residents of portions of British America and the United
States.
Until about the year 1850, the Glutton of Europe and
Asia was thought to differ materially from the American
Wolverine. Later investigation, however, has shown it to
be identical. The latest edition of Webster's Unabridged
Dictionary is not at all clear on this point. It not only
defines the Carcajou as ‘‘the American Badger,’ but
presents cuts showing the Glutton to be epicurean and
THE WOLVERINE. 481
lamb-like; while the Wolverine, on another page, is appar-
ently sprightly, and ever anxious for a fight.
In fact, all of the well-known names applied to this car-
nivorous mammal seem to have originated in misconception
and error. The Latin Gwlo, signifying glutton, selected
by writers as early as 1550, and still used by modern
authors to prevent confusion, gives but a faint idea of the
gastronomic feats of the species as related by Old World
naturalists, who seemed determined that the animal should
do justice to the name they had given it. The repasts
of those ancient gentlemen, Milo of Crotona and The-
ogenes of Thasos, who could each devour a whole ox in
one day, are insignificant affairs as compared with the
voracity imputed to the Glutton, which, weighing enly
thirty pounds, could finish an Elk at one meal, stopping
only occasionally to unburden itself by squeezing between
two trees. One of these ancient authors, Linnzeus, gave to
the ‘‘American form of the creature’’ the name of Ursus
luscus, which signifies a Bear with one eye; the foundation
for his conclusions being a single unlucky specimen from
Hudson’s Bay which had lost an eye.
The wariness, the nocturnal habits, and the exaggerated
ferocity ‘of the Timber Wolf, were all ascribed to the Wol-
verine at an early day; hence the name. At least, a pre-
ponderance of evidence favors this view, and agrees in its
being a more appropriate name than Glutton.
Dr. Elliott Coues, who has written much the best scien-
tific article on the Wolverine I have yet seen, is of the
opinion that Carcajou, or Carcajou quincajou, said to have
been first applied by Charlevoix to either the Wolverine or
some animal of the cat kind, is derived from the Cree.
Indian word O-kee-coo-haw-gew, and that Quickhatch, or
Qui-qui-hatch, another term familiar to the whites of Brit-
ish America, has the same origin. Richardson and others
agree with him.
The Wolverine belongs to the family MMustelide, sub-
family Musteline, genus Gulo, and is known to the scien-
tific world as Gulo luscws—a very absurd name indeed. In
31
482 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. P
the structure of its teeth it resembles the martens; in its
eyes and incomplete plantigrade walk, the Bear; the
markings suggest the skunk or badger; while its habits,
endurance, and ferocity have vaguely connected it with the
Wolf.
As in the case of the Bear, the after parts droop, and the
head is usually carried low. In general appearance, it
would somewhat resemble a fat, three-months-old Cinna-
mon Bear, were it not for its bushy tail. A casual front
Wolverine.
view would render the deception complete. The head is
rather large and short, and tapers rapidly to the muzzle.
The ears are short and broad, the neck and body rather
long, and the eyes very small and black. In length, the
body of an adult specimen, including the head, measures
about thirty-two inches, the extreme length of the tail add-
ing slightly more than a foot to the measurement. The
legs are short and large. The feet are also large, and make
tracks in the snow so nearly resembling those of a small
Bear that the inexperienced hunter is generally deceived.
To the practiced eye, they are readily distinguished by the
short steps of the Wolverine.
” THE WOLVERINE. 483
Perhaps the most prominent and distinguishing external
feature is the stubby tail, which is covered with soft, dark
hair seven: inches long. This, while soft and inclined to
droop, is still remarkably fluffy and bushy, the impression,
at first sight, being that something droll or defective has
been dressed in gorgeous raiment.
On account of the feet being semi-plantigrade, its gait
approaches the awkward and shambling walk of the Bear,
which, together with its short and thick legs, conveys the
idea of great strength.
The fine and valuable fur is partially concealed by a
growth of coarse hair, which attains a length of four inches
along the sides and hips, Like some of the other fur-
bearers, the anal glands contain a very unsavory liquid, as.
the subjoined narrative of an experience of Captain James
Ross will show:
‘*At Victoria Harbor, in the middle of the winter, two
or three months before we abandoned the ship, we’ were
one day surprised by a visit by one (Wolverine), which,
pressed hard by hunger, had climbed the snow-wall which
surrounded our vessel, and came boldly on deck, where
our crew were walking for exercise. Undismayed at the
presence of twelve or fourteen men, he seized upon a canis-
ter which had some meat in it, and was in so ravenous a
state that, while busily engaged at his feast, he suffered me
to pass a noose over his head, by which he was immediately
secured and strangled. By discharging the contents of two
secretory organs, he emitted a most insupportable stench.
These secretory vessels are about the size of a walnut, and
discharge a fluid of a yellowish-brown color and of the
consistence of honey.”’
The claws of the Wolverine are horn-colored, inclining
to whitish, and about an inch long. Johnson’s Natural
History says: ‘‘ The women of Kamehatka use the white
paws of this animal in dressing their hair.”’ As the paws
are black, the intention is not clear.
There is considerable variation in the light colors of the
body. A light-colored stripe, varying from reddish-brown
484 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
1
to creamy-gray, and usually about- two inches broad,
extends from the top of the base of the tail, along the
middle of each side, to the shoulders. Rarely, this stripe is
three inches broad, and almost white, and when thus found,
in connection with gray hairs throughout the dark of the
specimen, is an indication of old age. Most of the speci-
mens I have seen have had more or less gray upon the front
of the head, and small, irregular blotches of white upon the
throat and brisket. "With the exception of the aforemen-
tioned light colors, the whole of the animal isa dark- =
brown, shading into black upon the back and feet. A
specimen in the Chamber of Commerce library at Denver,
Colorado, from which our illustration is drawn, has a
gray stripe across the forehead, and large white blotches
on neck and chest, but the body: -stripe is hardly distin-
guishable.
Four adults taken at’ Trappers’ Lake, Colorado, in the
winter of 1889, were beautifully marked, the broad, light-
colored bands contrasting magnificently with the surround-
ing dark and glossy fur. A specimen in the possession of
J. A. Murdock, an editor and naturalist of Pilot Mound,
Manitoba, has, in addition to the irregular throat-marks,
considerable white around the nose. Audubon says: “A
white stripe extends across the forehead;’’ but this is by no
means regular.
The fur of adults does not change color in winter. I
have never seen the very young, which are said to be quite
woolly and of a dirty-white color; neither have I been able
to find anyone who could say anything authentic concern-
ing them. As the oft-repeated ‘‘dirty-white’’ color would
be something of an absurdity in nature, I do not accept it
readily, but, instead, believe the young to resemble the
parents; in which event, they would easily be mistaken for
young minks, sables, or possibly otters, ay all except ana-
tomical naturalists.
Notwithstanding its want of great agility, and the con-
sequent apparent difficulty of procuring food in the bleak
North, the Wolverine is usually very fat. Thirty-five
THE WOLVERINE. 485
pounds may be. said to be the average weight of those in
good condition.
There are eighteen teeth in the upper jaw and twenty
below, divided as follows: Incisors, twelve; canines, four;
_pre-molars, sixteen; molars, six. As in the marten, the
upper back molars are set transversely in the jaw.
The Wolverine may be said to be confined to the north-
ern parts of Europe, Asia, and America, and is usually -
found only in wooded districts. In the Rocky Mountain
region, its southern limit is probably 38°, and near the
eastern coast of the United States, about 42°. Audubon
killed one in Rensselaer County, New York, in 1810. In
several natural histories. we find accounts of occasional
specimens having been taken, previous to 1850, at about
latitude 42° and 48°, in the States of New York, Massachu-
setts, New Hampshire, and Vermont; but I can not recall a
single account of its occurrence in the Ohio or Mississippi
Valleys, nor in Canada, though it is probable the animal is
still to be found in the latter country.* We have late and
authentic records of its occurrence in the Rocky Mountains
as far south as latitude 39°, though I have never heard of one
in this latitude below an altitude of nine thousand feet. As
we proceed toward the Arctic regions, along the Continental
Divide, we hear of its presence from time to time; but until
we reach the Peace and Mackenzie River regions, in British
*In a letter to the editor, dated March 29, 1890, Mr. William P. Lett says: ‘‘1 find in the
‘Naturalist and Geologist,’ published by the late Elkanah Billings, the paleontologist of the
Geological Survey of Canada, the following: ‘The Glutton (Gulo Luscus, Linn.) is the Car-
cajou of Le Hontan and the French Canadians; Quickhatch (Ursulo affinis Americana) of
Catesby (Carolina); Quickhatch of the English residents at Hudson's Bay; Quickhatch or
Wolverine of Ellis; Wolverine of Pennant; Wolverine, Qui-qui-hatch, or Carcajou of Gra-
ham (Manuscripts); Ka-blee-a-ri-oo of the Eskimos of Mellville Peninsula; Ka-e-week of
the Eskimos of Boothia Felix; Na-gha-i-eh of the Chippewas; O-mee-that-sees O-kee-coo-
haw-gew (whence, Sir John Richardson observes, the term Quickhatch of the European
laborers in the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company is evidently derived) of the Crees or
Algonquins; Rosomak of the Russians; Jarf Filfress of the Fauna Suecica; Timmi of
the Kamchatkans; Haeppi of the Koratzki; Gluton of the French; Gulo of Olaus Magnus;
Gulo Vielfrass of Genet; Hyena and Ursus Hudsonis of Brisson; Mustela Gulo and Ursus
Luscus of Linnzus; Ursus Gulo of Pallas and Gmelin; Taxus Gulo of Tiedemann; Gulo
Arcticus of Desmarest; Gulo Vulgaris of Griffith’s Cuvier; Gulo Luscus of Sabine.’ I
can not find any authentic account of this animal having been killed or observed in the
Ottawa Valley of late years; but one was killed, about forty years ago, while swimming
across the Gatineau River, which stream enters the Ottawa River about one mile below
this city. I dare say there are some up there yet.”
486 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
America, it can not be said to be, nor has it ever been,
plentiful. On the west, north, and east, the range of the
animal extends to the ocean. The four skins which I had
the pleasure of examining at Trappers’ Lake were from
specimens trapped in the winter of 1889, at an elevation of
ten thousand feet, in Garfield County, Colorado, on the
fortieth parallel.
While crossing the mountains between Middle and
Egeria Parks, Colorado, in the winter of 1883, I was fortu-
nate enough to kill one of these animals. I say fortunate,
because for twenty-five years I have annually passed from
two weeks to three months in the wildest portions of Colo-
‘rado, Michigan, and Wisconsin, and never have seen but
this one living specimen at large.
It was late in the afternoon of a day that promised snow,
that I had seated myself in the edge of a clump of pines
for a moment’s rest, before starting upon a down-hill jour-
ney of ten miles. While mentally discussing the chances
of getting lost in a snow-storm, were I to leave a well-known
creek for a more direct but ‘antried route, a Wolverine
came out of a gulch, and was about to pass within fifty
yards of me. It caught the movement as I raised my rifle,
and sat upon its haunches, when almost instantly its neck
was broken by a bullet in the throat. It proved to be a
male in good condition, and was killed so quickly that it
gave forth no fetid odor. The lateness of the hour, and my
heavy load, prevented taking more than the hurriedly
stripped skin; and even this was given to a friend to keep as
a memento of our hunt.
The following account of the capture of a Wolverine,
written by Frank T. Wyman, of Boise City, Idaho, I take
pleasure in quoting verbatim:
‘“‘The Wolverine spoken of was killed by my brother,
Charles M. Wyman, in February, 1889. He had spent the
night in a cabin on the top of Lion Hill, about forty miles
south-southeast of Salt Lake City, tale The altitude is
about nine thousand feet above the sea. Early in the morn-
THE WOLVERINE. 487
ing, some miners passed the cabin, following what they
called the tracks of a Mountain Lion. My brother followed
them, and found the tracks ended at the opehing of a
mining-shaft. A heavy fall of snow had nearly covered
this over, and the animal had accidentally fallen some forty
feet to the bottom, where a foot or two of snow prevented
any serious injury from the fall.
‘‘Charles lowered himself to the bottom, when a shot-
gun loaded with heavy shot, and a lantern, were sent
down. The miners above were opposed to his proceeding,
and wished to haul him out, but in vain. From the bottom
of the shaft a drift extended about thirty feet, and then
branched into a ‘Y.’ At the point of branching was a
large timber to hold the roof. Pausing here a moment be-
fore proceeding to explore the right-hand opening, Charles
pointed the gun into this drift, and started to advance,
when, with a snarl which sounded loud enough in the nar-
row drift, the Wolverine came from the other branch. My
brother was unable to point the gun into that drift in time
to shoot, because of the timber, and so was defenseless.
‘‘Acting on the principle that wild animals are usually
afraid of an artificial light, he swung the lantern into its
face, which caused it to retreat. As quickly as possible,
the gun was brought to bear upon the proper point, where-
upon the Wolverine uttered another snarl and came again. ~
Taking as good an aim as possible in the uncertain light. a
shot was fired, which of course extinguished the light.
After waiting for a time, with one finger upon the other
trigger, Charles relighted the lantern, and found the
Wolverine dead, just in front of him.
‘«There were no other Wolverines in the vicinity, so far
as known. A sheep-herder, near by, had complained dur-
ing the summer of losing sheep and lambs, supposing them
to have been taken by Mountain Lions, which had been
seen in the vicinity.”’
As Scandinavian naturalists have so often spoken of the
Glutton’s fondness for mutton, it is probable that the
2
488 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
sheep-herder, in this case, could justly have charged part
of his loss to the Wolverine. M. Hedberg tells us that
three were captured young in the Parish of. Gellivaara, in
Lapland. ‘‘They were allowed their full liberty; but in
the autumn; the servant having forgotten to fasten the
door of the building wherein the sheep were confined, the
Gluttons found their way into it and killed several sheep.”
As before stated, the Wolverine is nocturnal in habit,
and there are but few recorded instances of its having been
seen during the day. An aged trapper once told me of
having seen one in Pot-hole Valley, Colorado, one wintry
day; and Mr. Lockhart, in Coues’ ‘‘ Fur-bearing Animals,”
mentions two cases, in each of which the animal sat upon
its haunches and shaded its eyes with a paw, the inference
being that it could not see well in the sunlight. It does
not hibernate, but in winter prosecutes its search for food
with even more vigor than in summer.
Examples coming within my own observation show the
male and female to be equal in size.
Without doubt, its most conspicuous habit i is that of fol-
lowing the trapper and destroying his wooden traps. To
the Hudson’s Bay trapper, who was formerly unable to
obtain poison and steel-traps, except at ruinous prices,*
this was highly exasperating. Imagine the feelings of a
man who has built, set, and baited one hundred and fifty
traps, extending over a circuit of fifty miles, and who finds
on his first visit, perhaps a week later, every one destroyed,
the baits eaten, and the catch torn in pieces or carried away!
* What these prices were, we are uuable to say; but, if we may judge from an article in
the February, 1890, Cosmopolitan Magazine, by J. Macdonald Oxley, the profits probably
exceeded the conservative three per cent. of our Government. Note this: ‘‘There has been
a wonderful change in values since the good old days in the early part of this century.
When Fort Dunvegan was established, on the Peace River, near the Rockies, the regular
price of a trade-musket was Rocky Mountain sables piled up on each side until they were
level with its muzzle when held upright. Now, these sables were worth in England about
three pounds apiece, while the cost of the musket did not exceed one pound.”
While this practice may have been more satisfactory to the Indians than that of the
early Hollanders, who are said to have used ‘‘the strong right hand” as a pound-weight
when weighing peltry, the result was practically the same. Mr. Oxley further says:
“These muskets came to be wofully long, in time.” If we suppose them to have been fifty
inches long, and each hide to have occupied an inch of space, we have a gross profit of
$1,495 on each musket!
»
THE WOLVERINE. 489
Fortunately, there is nothing on record to show what these
hardy adventurers said when thus irritated, though we can
imagine it might sound better if told in an unknown
tongue. Very often they would capture the destroyer of
their equanimity and traps, but sometimes his cunning sur-
passed their best efforts, and they would abandon their
lines until their tormentor had found other pastures.
The cunning, strength, and perseverance displayed by
these animals, and which will be referred to further on, is
so truly wonderful that we may well excuse the early writ-
ers their exaggeration. The posts composing the back of
the dead-fall were frequently pulled up and carried away,
the small sticks destroyed, the logs scattered, the clogs to
the steel-traps chewed in two, and the traps and contents
carried for miles and buried in the snow. When Gulo
duscus had taken the danger out of the contrivance, he
would cheerfully eat the bait. By the way, this seems to
be his idea of a practical joke. Alas! were he addicted to
Latin and guava jelly, we might admit his instinct to reach
the borders of reason.
For several reasons, he prefers to use, when traveling, the
trails of the marten-trappers; his legs are short, the snow
is deep, and often light, while his body is heavy. More-
over, the wise old Carcajou appears to like the idea of
matching the cunning of his would-be captor, knowing,
probably from experience, just how and how not to get at
the baits.
The Wolverine’s long nocturnal journeys, in deep snow,
show his endurance, while his usual plethora is prima facie
evidence of success in foraging. It is true he has a keener
nose than the Fox; but how a carnivorous mammal so ener-
getic as the Glutton can keep fat during the Arctic winters-
is considerable of a mystery. His fare during the snowy
months is, generally speaking, limited to grouse and rab-
bits, and various fur-bearing animals, which he generally
steals after they have been trapped. Richardson says: ‘I
’ have seen one chasing an American hare which was at the
same time harassed by a snowy owl.’ At long intervals,
490 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
our poacher finds the carcass of a large animal, when for a
time he lives luxuriously. In summer he fares much
better; mice, moles, marmots, rabbits, and Foxes are then
dug from their burrows, while his keen nose directs him
to all the carrion in his neighborhood. He also preys upon
nesting birds, particularly water-fowl, and their eggs; and
some writers have added decaying fish to his warm weather
bill of fare. Judging from his ferocity and strength, it is
probable that he also preys upon both young and disabled
Deer. Buffon, I believe, is responsible for the statement
that it isa common practice of the animal to lie secreted:
near Beaver-ponds, and pounce upon the unsuspecting
laborers when they come ashore. Of one he had caged, he
speaks as follows: ‘‘ His voracity has been much exagger-
ated; he ate indeed a great deal, but when deprived of food
he was not importunate. He is rather wild, avoids water,
and moves with a kind of leap. After eating, he covers
himself in the cage with straw. In drinking, he laps like
a dog. If indulged, he would. devour more than four
pounds of flesh in a day. He is almost perpetually in
motion.”
Audubon thus describes one he saw in Denmark, which
had been exhibited two years: ‘‘ We took him out of his
cage; he was very gentle, opened his mouth to enable us to
examine his teeth, and buried his head in our laps while
we admired his long claws and felt his woolly feet. He
seemed pleased to escape from the confinement of the cage,
ran around us in short circles, and made awkward attempts
to play with and caress us. He had been taught to sit on
his haunches and hold in his mouth a German pipe. We
observed he was somewhat averse to the light of the sun,
keeping his eyes half-closed when exposed to its rays. The
keeper informed us that he suffered a good deal from the
heat in warm weather. There was in the same cage a
marmot, from the Alps, to which the Wolverine seemed
much attached.”
It is customary with the Wolverine to pass the day,
especially the hours of sunshine, in some subterranean
THE WOLVERINE. 491
cavity, usually the one in which he makes his home. He
does not litter his den with a surplusage of food, but
chooses to bury it elsewhere, invariably leaving unsavory
evidence of his visit above his treasures to conceal them
from the Fox or other inquisitive prowler. The bed is
ordinarily a large heap of leaves.
Each year, in June, the female gives birth to her young,
which she protects ‘until the following winter, when they
are forced to provide for themselves. A naturalist, who
lived four years in the spruce-forest country lying between
the southern prairies and polar barrens of British America,
informs me that the litter consists of two—usually a male
andafemale. This, coming from a close observer, together
with the general belief of northern residents to the effect
that Wolverines are found in pairs throughout a greater
part of the year, naturally leads one to believe the species
‘monogamous; but, on the other hand, Mr. L. Lloyd informs
us that four young Gluttons were seen together on a stone
in a rapid, fishing for grayling. Excellent authorities also
unite in asserting that the litter may consist of four; and,
despite the aforementioned belief, Iam of the opinion that
the Wolverine is oftener found alone than in pairs. The
rutting-season is believed to be early in March. They utter
no cry or call at any time when undisturbed, though when
attacked they give vent to their rage in growls.
They sometimes climb rough and soft barked trees, in
quest of food previously located by their keen powers of
scent, but never to escape from alone enemy. For similar
reasons, they also swim rivers. When transported to hot
countries, they show no aversion to water, but rather seek
it as a means of reducing their temperature.
The rather heavy body and short legs of the Wolverine
convey an idea of clumsiness and aslothful pace, Like the
stove-pipe hat, which is laid away through sprinting—that
sport and dignity being at variance—so is the Wolverine
often brought to grief through an untimely pride or bra-
vado; but do not try to catch him when once he has con-
cluded that safety lies just over the next mountain chain,
492 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
for you will surely fail. A Manitoba friend is with me in
this assertion, and further confirmation comes from an inci-
dent which happened during an outing in the summer of
1888. At the time, my companion was hunting Deer in
Rock Creek Caiion, Egeria Park, Colorado, and upon com-
ing to camp, told of having seen a strange animal, at
dusk, which ran through the scattering quaking aspens
with such speed that he was unable to bring his rifle to
bear upon it. When he described the animal, we became
certain that he had seen a Wolverine.
At this date, there is practically no market value upon
the skins. The very few which reach Colorado buyers sell
at from six to eight dollars each; those fit for mounting
commanding the best figures. Formerly, they were consid-
ered nearly worthless in commerce, as is evinced by the
post-traders intrusting many of those bought at low prices
to the care of certain Indians, who traded them to distant
tribes for salable peltry. As the possession of a skin
marked the owner as a skillful trapper, and the middle-
men received liberal commissions, considerable trading of
this kind was done; the skins finally finding their way to
the trading-stations again whenever the wants of poor Lo
were great.
The Cree Indians, who have the best opportunities for
studying the breeding-habits of this species, say the mother
boldly defends her young when molested by man or beast.
Unless provided with some means of defense, the Indians
avoid the mother at this time, notwithstanding the state-
ment of Johnson to the effect that the Wolverine flees from
the face of man, and that he requires no other arm than a
stick to kill it. Though a suitable green club would surely
win, a large majority of hunters would prefer a weapon of
longer range, and favor pitting the chances of a miss or a
misfire against that of being disrobed in an animated
set-to, in a frigid country, where the clothing-stores are
often two hundred miles apart. :
A curious trait of this animal is the suspicion with which
it at first regards anything that has been touched by the
THE WOLVERINE. 493
hand of man, and the pertinacity it shows, after one day
for deliberation, in gaining possession of it. Mr. P. De
Graff, of New-York, who passed one winter in the Peace
River country, has this to say concerning this peculiarity:
‘‘The Carcajou must be very hungry indeed if he will
touch a baited trap the first night, and so it is with game
left in the woods. About the time we built our camp, I
killed a Moose, and hung the head ona branch of a tree,
out of the reach of wild animals. Some time afterward,
I thought I would test what I had heard about this habit
of the Carcajou, and knocked the head down after a fall of
snow. Next day, I found a Carcajou had been within three
feet of it, but had not touched it. Then I turned the head
over, and the result was the same; but three days after this
the head was gone. We did not consider the experiment
conclusive, for we found that traps which had been set
early in the morning sometimes contained a Carcajou next
morning, but as we did not make a practice of visiting our
traps every day, we could not always be sure about it; yet
we concluded that generally they were too suspicious to
touch a trap as long as the scent of our tracks remained.”’
Mr. Ross, quoted in Coues’ ‘‘Fur-bearing Animals,’’
vouches for the following: ‘‘An instance occurred within
my own knowledge in which a hunter and his family hav-
ing left their lodge unguarded during their absence, on
their return found it completely gutted—the walls were
there, but nothing else. Blankets, guns, knives, kettles,
axes, cans, and all the other paraphernalia of a trapper’s
tent, had vanished, and the tracks left showed that a Wol-
verine had been the thief. The family set to work, and by
carefully following up all his paths, recovered, with some
trifling exceptions, the whole of the lost property.”
Steel-traps and dead-falls are commonly used in the
capture of the Wolverine, although when he has once
escaped from a trap, or been frightened by the fall of a log,
some other means must be devised for his subjection. In
time they even become suspicious of poisons which have no
taste or smell, and it is the same with castorewm or any
494 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
other far-reaching odor when used asalure. The surviv-
ors in each district somehow learn to associate the death of
their congeners with the thing habitually used to destroy,
and thus become world-wise in a degree highly distressing
to the trappers. When ordinary means have failed, a
quadrangular trap of heavy logs, having the appearance of
a cache, will usually succeed. In these contrivances the
bait is buried or concealed, and steel-traps covered with
snow or leaves often placed therein. Touching this, I quote
-from Mr. De Graff's letter: >
‘T caught a troublesome Carcajou that winter in this
way: I scoured a heavy steel-trap, and set it, and then
hung it in a tree until the odor from handling it had disap-
peared. Then I dug away the snow, and piled it ina hard
bank around the spot. The bait was put in one corner, and
the trap, by the use of a stick, in the center. Then I cov-
ered them over, and laid small logs across the top of the
bank, on top of which I piled snow and rubbish two feet
deep. It worked likea charm, and I got the beast the first
time I made my rounds.”
That my readers may know why the Wolverine is re-
garded by many as an ‘insatiable glutton, a blood-thirsty
demon, and a prowling monster,’’ I will quote briefly from
some attractive but not wholly reliable works at hand—
such as were often given us in boyhood by well-meaning
parents or friends.
“The Glutton,’’ says Mr. Lloyd, ‘‘approaches his prey
with caution, crawling toward it till within a short distance,
and then, with a few sudden springs, pounces upon it. He
is very destructive to the wild Reindeer, particularly in the
winter; for when these animals are necessitated partially to
~bury their heads in the snow, for the purpose of getting
lichens and other vegetable substances lying below, he is
enabled to approach them with facility. When once seized
by the blood-thirsty beast, it is in vain that the wounded
Deer endeavors to disengage itself from its enemy by rush-
ing among the surrounding trees; no force can oblige him
to quit his hold; he maintains his position, and continues
THE WOLVERINE. 495
to suck the blood of the flying victim till it falls down
exhausted with pain and fatigue. When the Glutton has
captured a large animal, he hides the carcass, after having’
satisfied his present hunger, in the cleft of a rock or ina
thick brake, carefully covered with moss if in an exposed
place. Even the upper part of a tree serves him for a
larder, so that the Fox may not have access to the good
things.”’
Bingley, in 1870, spoke of the Glutton in a similar
strain: ‘‘ We are informed that they climb into trees in the
neighborhood of herds of Deer, and carry along with them
a considerable quantity of a kind of moss to which the Deer
are partial. As soon as any of the herd happens to
approach the tree, the Glutton throws down the moss. If
the Deer stops to eat, the Glutton instantly darts upon its
back, and, after fixing himself firmly between the horns,
tears out its eyes, which torments the animal to such a
degree that, either to end its torments or to get rid of its
cruel enemy, it strikes its head against the trees till it falls
down dead.”’
Pontoppidan, while correcting a belief of his time as to
the Wolverine being the third cub of a Bear, tells us this:
“A friend of mine, a man of probity, has assured me, from
ocular demonstration, that when the Glutton is caught alive
(which seldom happens), and is chained to a stone wall, his
hunger does not decline the stones and mortar, but he will
eat himself into the wall. . . . . By the practice of
squeezing between two trees, he exonerates his stomach,
which has not time to digest what he has so voraciously
devoured.”’ :
Bingley gives a good description of the Wolverine. He
had evidently received trustworthy information from Brit-
ish American sources, though seemingly he did not suspect
the Wolverine and Glutton to be identical. His statement,
on information, relating to a Wolverine which upset the
greater part of a wood-pile, more than seventy yards in cir-
cumference, to get at some provisions hidden in the center,
is generally considered too heavy for discussion, though I
496 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
believe the animal would win could we find some way to
reduce the size of the wood-pile about one-half.
Cuvier, Hearne, Griffith, and nearly all the Old World
writers, also fell into the error of supposing the Glutton
and Wolverine to differ in form and character.
Coues has critically compared the European Glutton with
examples from the United States and the British Posses-
sions, and finding only such differences as frequently occur
in specimens from any given locality, modestly concludes
in the following language: ‘‘The identity of the animals of
the two continents is to be considered fairly established,
whatever range of variation in size and color either may
present.” a ,
Previous to the construction of the Canadian Pacific
Railway, nearly everyone who had written more than a few
lines upon the habits of this animal, had -gladly accepted
whatever they could get from the courteous officers of the
Hudson’s Bay Company, who, in turn, were usually obliged
to get their information from the Indians and white trap-
pers of that region. While it may now seem an easy matter
to testify to the correctness of this hearsay evidence, it
should be remembered that no one man can do so from per-
sonal experience; that many of the Hudson’s Bay posts no
longer exist; that the home of the Wolverine is still hun-
dreds of miles north of the railroad; that the most desira-
ble points have only one mail a year, and that in that
sparsely settled region the few competent to furnish infor-
mation are either unknown to the outside world or do not
wish to trouble themselves for the advancement of science
alone. Under these conditions, verification has been dit- ’
ficult; and we may well forgive the exaggeration of the
earlier writers, while quoting from Pope in my own behalf:
“Tf lam right, Thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay;
If Iam wrong, oh, teach my heart
To find the better way.” ~
From a mass of manuscript relating to the fauna of
the North, collected by the Smithsonian Institution in times
THE WOLVERINE. 497
past, Elliott Coues selected and embodied in his exhaustive
article the matter he considered reliable and best calculated
to show the nature of this wonderful animal. Some of
these entertaining passages I give, adding a few anecdotes
from other reliable sources, which it is hoped will prove
interesting reading.
“The winter I passed at Fort Simpson,’’ writes Mr.
Lockhart, ‘‘I had a line of marten and Fox traps and Lynx-
snares extending as far as Lac de Brochet. Visiting them
on one occasion, I found a Lynx alive in one of my snares,
and being indisposed to carry it so far home, determined to
kill and skin it before it should freeze. But how to cache
the skin till my return? This was a serious question, for
Carcajou tracks were numerous. Placing the carcass, as a
decoy, in a clump of willows at one side of the path, I
went some distance on the opposite side, dug a hole with
my snow-shoe (about three feet deep) in the snow, packed
the skin in the smallest possible compass, and put it in the
bottom of the hole, which I filled up again very carefully—
packing the snow down hard, and then strewing loose snow
over the surface till the spot looked as if it had never been
disturbed. I also strewed blood and entrails in the path
and around the willows. Returning next morning, I found
thatthe carcass was gone, as ] expected it would be, but
that the place where the skin was cached was apparently
undisturbed. ‘Ah, you rascal!’ said I, addressing aloud
the absent Carcajou, ‘I have outwitted you for once.’ I
lighted my pipe, and proceeded leisurely to dig up the skin
to place in my muskimoot. I went clear down to ‘the
ground, on this side and on that, but no Lynx-skin was
there. The Carcajou had been there before me, and had
carried it off along with the carcass; but he had taken the
pains to fill up the hole again and make everything as
.smooth as before.
‘“‘At Peel’s River, on one occasion, a very old Carcajou
discovered my marten-road, on which I had nearly a hun-
dred and fifty traps. I was in the habit of visiting the line
about once a fortnight, but the beast fell into the way of
32
498 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
coming oftener than I did—to my great annoyance and vex-
ation. I determined to put a stop to his thieving and his
life together, cost what it might; so I made six strong
traps at as many different points, and also set three steel-
traps. For three weeks I tried my best to catch the beast,
without success; and my worst enemy would allow that I
am no green hand in these matters. The animal carefully
avoided the traps set for his own benefit, and seemed to be
taking more delight than ever in demolishing my marten-
traps and eating the martens—scattering the poles in every
direction, and caching what baits or martens he did not
devour on the spot. As we had no poisons in those days, I
next set a gun on the bank of a little lake. The gun was
concealed in some low bushes, but the bait was so placed
that the Carcajou must see it on his way up the bank. I
blockaded my path to the gun with a small pine-tree, which
completely hid it. On my first visit afterward, I found that
the beast had gone up to the bait and smelled it, but had
left it untouched. He had next pulled up the pine-tree
that blocked the path, and gone around the gun and cut the
line which connected the bait with the trigger, just behind
the muzzle. Then he had gone back and pulled the
bait away, and carried it out on the lake, where he laid
down and devoured it at his leisure. There I found my
string. .
‘“‘T could scarcely believe that all this had been done
designedly, for it seemed that faculties fully on a par with
human reason would be required for such an exploit, if
done intentionally. 1 therefore re-arranged things, tying
the string where it had been bitten, but the result was
exactly the same on three successive occasions, as I could
plainly see by the foot-prints; and what is most singular of
all, each time the brute was careful to cut the line a little
back of where it had been tied before, as if actually reason-
ing with himself that even the knots might be some new
device of mine, and therefore a source of hidden danger he
would prudently avoid. I came to the conclusion that that
Carcajou ought to live, as he must be something at least
THE WOLVERINE. 499
human, if not more. I gave it up, and abandoned the road
for a period.
‘‘On another occasion, a Carcajou amused himself by
tracking my line from one end to the other, and demolish-
‘ing my traps as fast as I could set them. I puta large
steel-trap in the middle of a path that branched off among
some willows, spreading no bait, but risking the chance
that the animal would ‘put his foot in it’ on his way to
break a trap at the end of a path. On my next visit, I
found that the trap was gone, but I noticed the blood and
entrails of a hare that had evidently been caught in the
trap, and devoured by the Carcajou on the spot. Examin-
ing his foot-prints, I was satisfied that he had not been
caught, and I took up his trail.
‘Proceeding about a mile through the woods, I came to
a small lake, on the banks of which I recognized traces of
the trap, which the beast had laid down while he went a
few steps to one side. He had then returned and picked
up the trap, which he had carried across the lake, with
many a twist and turn on the hard crust of snow to mislead
his expected pursuer, and then again entered the woods. I
followed for about half a mile farther, and then came toa
‘large hole dug in the snow. This place, however, seemed
not to have suited him, for there was nothing there. A
few yards farther on, however, I found a neatly built
mound: of snow on which the animal had left his mark; this
_I knew was his cache. Using one of my snow-shoes for
a spade, I dug into the hillock and down to the ground, the
snow being about four feet deep; and there I found my trap,
‘with the toes of a rabbit still in the jaws. Could it have
been the animal’s instinctive impulse to hide prey that made
him carry my trap so far merely for the morsel of meat
still held in it? Or did his cunning nature prompt him
to hide the trap, for fear that on some future occasion
he might put his own toes in it and share the rabbit’s
fate?’’
Coues also selects the following from Captain Cart-
wright’s journal: ‘‘In coming to the foot of Table Hill, I
500 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
crossed the track of a Wolverine with one of Mr. Calling-
ham’s traps on-his foot; the Foxes had followed his bleed -
ing track. As this beast went through the thick of the
woods, under the north side of the hill, where the snow was
so deep and light that it was with the greatest difficulty I
could follow him, even on Indian rackets, I was quite
puzzled to know how he had contrived to prevent the trap
from catching hold of the branches of trees, or sinking in
the snow. But on coming up with him, I discovered how
he had managed; for after making an attempt to fly at me,
he took the trap in his mouth and ran upon three legs:
These creatures are surprisingly strong in proportion to
their size; this one weighed only twenty-six pounds, and
the trap eight, yet, including all the turns he had taken, he
had carried it six miles.”’ .
The Earl of Southesk, in ‘‘Saskatchewan,”’ has this to
say of his experience with the Wolverine, at Fort Pelly, on
December 11, 1859:
‘“‘A few nights ago, Mr. Murray heard his dog barking
incessantly for no apparent reason. Happening next morn-
ing to open a half-finished store-house, the dog rushed
furiously in, but came out again with still greater quick-
ness, upon which his master looked into the shed, and
there beheld the cause of the disturbance in the shape of
a Wolverine, who, after his nocturnal prowlings, had taken
refuge in this convenient hiding-place. The beast was
slowly retreating, with his face to the door through which
the dog had entered; but an ounce of shot soon tamed his
courage by ending his life. . . . No beast is so cunning
as the Wolverine—the Fox is a sucking dove compared to
him. . . . Where he haunts, it is useless to store meat
on stages, for, Beaver-like, he cuts through great trees
with his teeth, and soon brings down any edifice of wood.
His courage is dauntless; he flies neither from man nor
beast, and woe to the dog that comes within reach of his
jaws.”’
In the ensuing description of a cache, in ‘‘Ocean to
Ocean,’’ by the Rev. G. M. Grant, the above-mentioned
1
THE WOLVERINE. 501
propensity of the animal for tree-cutting is again hinted at,
as well as his keenness of scent:
‘‘Brown advised that, as this was a good place, some
provisions be cached far those of the party who were to
return from Jasper’s; and Valad selecting a site in the
greenwood, he and Beaupré went off to it from the oppo-
site direction, with about twenty-five pounds of pemmican
and flour, tied up first in canvas and then in oil-skin, as
the Wolverine—most dreaded plunderer of caches—dislikes
the smell of oil. Selecting two suitable pine-trees in the
thick wood, they skinned (barked) them to prevent animals
from climbing; then placing a pole between the two, some
eighteen feet from the ground, they hung a St. Andrew’s
cross of two small sticks from the pole, and suspended
their bag from the end of one, that the least movement, or
even puff of wind, would set it swinging. Such a cache
Valad guaranteed against bird and beast of whatever
kind.”
Whether his guarantee held good, or whether the Wol-
verine, disregarding the cross and defying the ingenuity
of the voyageurs, plundered the cache, the historian does
not state.
THE WILDCAT.
By Danret ARgRowsmiTH (‘‘SANGAMON”).
fay 1S animal is common to the whole of the Middle
Ge and Western United States; but it is not nearly so
plentiful now as formerly, when those States were
ee comparatively a wilderness. At present, it is only
found in broken, hilly, rocky, brushy, and thinly settled
districts.
In size, the Wildcat is about two and one-half feet in
length, fifteen inches in height at the shoulders, and weighs
from twenty to thirty pounds. It is of a dark brindle-
gray color on the back and down to mid-sides; the ground-
color becomes lighter as it approaches the belly; the lower
sides and belly are covered with round, black spots, edged
or circled with a yellowish hue. These spots are from the
size of a hickory-nut, on the sides, to that of a small pea on
the belly.
The tail is about four inches long, and has a curtailed,
stumpy appearance. The eyes and ears are large, the
former being about the size of those of the great horned
owl, and bearing a striking resemblance to them; the feet,
about the size of those of the Gray Fox, and armed with
strong, hooked, and very sharp claws, which are concealed
when at rest, as is the case with all Felide.
The whole body is covered with a dense fur, somewhat
longer than that of the house-cat, to which, in fact, he
bears a striking resemblance in body and form; but the
Wildcat is about two and one-half times as large as the
‘largest ‘‘Tom’’ of our domestic cats.
The Wildcat dens in clefts of rocks, and old hollow logs,
and preys upon birds, rabbits, and other small animals,
being particularly destructive to young pigs. One pair of
= (508 )
504 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
these ‘‘varmints”’ has been known to destroy a whole lit-
ter of from eight to ten pigs ina single night. They will
steal up to a hog-bed, spring into it, snatch up a pig and
make their escape almost before the old sow is aware of
their presence. They generally go in pairs—male and
female; and where you find one, you may certainly. count
on the other being near.
The rutting-season of this Cat is from the middle of
December to the middle of January, and they drop their
‘young—of which there are from three to six—from about
the middle to the last of March. During the love-making
season, they are not unlike the domestic Thomas and Maria
in making night in the woods and hills hideous with their
ear-splitting screams and caterwauls.
The Wildcat is a savage fighter. An old Tom can stand
off a whole pack of common dogs, and indeed it takes a
very resolute dog to seize and kill one; for while the dog is
worrying him, he is getting in his work on the dog, in a-
most lively and vigorous manner, with teeth and toe-nails.
About this time, one can safely wager that there is some
hair flying.
The most successful method of hunting these animals is
to start them up with the Fox-hound, before which they
make a good, exciting run of from one to two hours; and in
this run they are as cunning to dodge and double as Rey-
nard. But when close pressed, they will take to a tree,
from which they can easily be shot.
They are often caught in steel-traps. While residing in
Southwest Missouri, I knew a boy who caught eight or ten,
during the winter of 1867-68, by building in the woods, with
small poles, a pen, in which he placed some old live
roosters, and covered the pen so as to protect them. He
then placed steel-traps along each side of the outside of the
pen. Thé crowing of the old cocks would attract the
attention of any Wildcat that was near, and lure him to
the pen; and in his endeavors to get at the chickens, he
would get a foot into a trap, and then fall'an easy victim to
‘*Bent’’ Shelton’s old musket in the morning.
THE WILDCAT. 505
My first introduction to this variety of sport was late in
the fall of 1868, while on a hunting-trip in Cass County,
Missouri. One night, there came a light fall of snow. The
next morning, by the time it was light, I was in the woods,
near a large, open prairie-bottom about one and a half miles
long by half a mile wide. This bottom lay on the south side
of Grand River, just below the mouth of Pony Creek. I
was looking for Deer, as this region was at that time a
famous place for both Deer and wild turkeys. Wolves,
’Coons, Wildcats, and other ‘‘varmints’’ abounded. It
being but a short time after the close of the great fratri-
cidal strife that agitated our country, during which there
was a general let-up in the hunting of the natural fauna of
the woods and prairies, these animals had multiplied and
were abundant. I had just come out, and was standing
inside the brush, on a little ridge just above the bottom,
when I sawa large buck coming out of the woods some
eighty yards below me. I bleated for him to stop, and on
his doing so, fired and shot him through, but too far back
to down him at once. Upon being struck, he plunged off
down into the bottom, and was soon lost to sight in the tall
‘‘rail,”’ or slough-grass, with whichsthis part of the bottom
was covered.
Reloading my rifle, I took up his trail and struck out
after him, hoping to soon find him dead. Getting out into
the long grass, I almost stepped on a large doe, which
bounded up; and by the time she made her second jump, I
put a bullet through her, and laid her out. At the crack of
my rifle, up bounded two tremendous bucks that had been
lying some twenty feet ahead of me, and made off through
the high grass. -After noting the place, so as to have no
trouble in finding my dead Deer, I went on and tried to
trail up my wounded buck. Because of the lightness of the
fall of snow which here lay upon the high grass, it was
difficult trailing. The sun coming up clear and warm, soon
melted the-snow, so I gave it up as a hard job. I then went
across to the timber which lay along the river, and fol-
lowed it down to the eastern or lower point of the open
506 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
bottom, and had just turned to go back up to where my
dead doe lay, when I heard a pack of Fox-hounds open out.
in full cry on some high, brushy, and rocky points at the
extreme upper end of the bottom through which I had just
been hunting. :
A loud ‘‘whoop-ee”’ told me that:a chase of some kind
was on hand. The hounds seemed to be coming down
through the north side of the little prairie. I concluded
they had jumped a Deer; and in hopes of getting in a shot,
I slipped on up the south side of the bottom to a narrow
point of timber which jutted out into it, and there took a
stand to await developments. Isoon saw some five or six
horsemen scatter out and take favorable positions for
shooting; two of them on my side of the bottom, the rest
on the river side.
The hounds were discoursing some lively music, and
running rapidly, keeping well out in the high grass. I soon
found that it was not a Deer they were chasing, for had it
been, I could have seen it bounding through and over the
grass. I was satisfied on this point. The hounds, after run-
ning the entire length of the bottom, were thrown off the
trail for perhaps ten minutes. They then tacked about and
started back up through nearly the center of the strip,
making the woods fairly ring with their musical notes.
I walked up to the nearest horseman, whom I found to
be ‘‘Bart’’? Holderman. Hesaid that he, his brother Billy,
George Pulliam, and the Stephens boys were out after
Cats, and that the hounds were now making it hot for
one of the critters. This being a new game to me, I
determined to see it, and be in at the death if possible.
After a run of perhaps three-quarters of an hour, during
which the quarry doubled some two or three times, they
finally overhauled and brought it to bay. on the ground in
the high grass, about one hundred yards from the timber,
and some two hundred yards above our stand. We struck
out at our best gait for the scene of combat, and there, in
the center of a small area, where the grass had been
knocked down by the hounds in the scuffle, lay, on its
THE WILDCAT. 507
back, one of the fiercest-looking animals, for its size, that I
had ever seen. It seemed that when the hounds had over-
taken it, they had seized it, and, in turn, had been forced
to let go, and get out of reach of its teeth and sharp
claws.
This was plainly evident from the bloody marks on their
heads, necks, and sides. The more‘resolute dogs, on being
urged, would spring forward to get a hold; but with a fierce
‘“‘spit’’ of rage and a swift stroke of the paw, the brute
would send them flying back out of its reach. The boys
had all come riding up except two, one of whom was Pul-
liam, who was farthest away when the Cat was overtaken.
He soon showed up, too, and with him was his large, ugly,
dark brindle-colored dog, named Stump—a regular ‘var-
mint dog’’—a combination of meat-ax and bull, whose
tail had been discounted fifty, twenty-five, and ten per cent. ;
hence his name. His chief and only reputation was that
he would fight to the death with any varmint, no matter
what were the odds. With the boys, on occasions like this,
he was a necessary adjunct, and the main stand-by.
As soon as Bart saw George coming, -he called to him to
hurry up with old Stump.
‘‘Here, Stump, here, here, whoop-ee!’’
All this time, the baying of the hounds—eight of them
—together with the cheers of the hunters, made a most
deafening racket. - Old Stump, guided alone by the noise,
soon put in an appearance, and, was not loath to lay hold,
notwithstanding the severe punishments he had in former
times and on similar occasions received, one of which was the
loss of an ear, which had either been clawed or chewed off
so close to his head that the remnant resembled the upper
section of a coarse-toothed buzz-saw; and of the other, but
‘little more remained, and that pretty well split up. He
seemed to know just what was expected of him. Witha
growl and a rush, he seized. the Cat across the breast, just
below the arms, crushed and shook itas a ratter would a rat,
and soon took all the fight ont of it. No sooner had he laid
hold than in rushed the other dogs, only to get a further
508 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
touch of terrible punishment from the feet of the Cat in its
dying struggles.
On another occasion, 4 gentleman by the name of Har-
rison, and myself, with a pair of Fox-hound puppies belong-
ing to him, started and put up, after a two-hours’ run, a
large male Cat. A four-inch snow lay on the ground; the
day was still and clear, and quite warm—a fine day for the
sport. We came across the tracks of the animal where it
had been rustling around on the previous night. Putting
the puppies on the trail, we soon jumped him from some
large rocks where he had been lying, sunning himself. In
the run that followed, he tried his doubling tactics four or
five times; but we being well mounted, and there being no
fences to bother us, kept: close to the puppies, and would
put them to “‘rights’’ when the Cat would attempt its
‘dodges. We also had with us a Greyhound. When, after
about two hours’ chasing, this Greyhound got sight of the
quarry, we witnessed some tall running for about two hun-
dred yards. Then the old ‘‘Tom’’ ran up a shell-bark
hickory-tree, and ensconced himself in a body-crotch about
forty feet above the ground. From this perch, Harrison
tumbled him ont, dead, with a load of buckshot from an
old Harper’s Ferry musket which he carried. This Wildcat
was the largest of the species I ever saw, and would have
cleaned out, in a fair fight, all three of our dogs.
IN AT THE DEATH,
‘°COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS.
By Danie, ARROWSMITH (‘‘ SANGAMON ”).
United States and the southern parts of British
‘ America, It is one of the smaller species of the
«@¢ Plantigrade, or Bear tribe, and is about three feet
in length from nose to tip of tail, the latter being about
ten inches long. The body is covered with a long, dense
coat of dark-brown fur, the outer tips of a grayish color.
The tail has five black rings of coarse fur, some two
inches apart, and the tip is black. The animal when in
full flesh, in late autumn, weighs from fifteen to twenty-five
pounds—some few specimens. exceeding the latter figure by
a few pounds.
The Raccoon is one of the valuable fur-bearing animals
of North America. In the early settlement of the Missis-
sippi Valley States, when money was scarce, the ’Coon-skin ~
passed as current funds, and was usually valued at twenty-
five cents.
The Raccoon is a nocturnal animal. It scarcely ever
shows itself during the day-time, but lies coiled up in the
upper hollow of some old, decaying tree, and then comes
forth after night-fall to rustle for its food.
‘It is omnivorous. In the spring and early summer, it
feeds on craw-fish, frogs, birds, and eggs, and will make
frequent visits to the hen-roosts of the farmer. It also eats
berries, wild grapes, acorns, and corn, of which it is as fond
as a hog. It frequents the corn-fields from the time of
roasting-ears until the corn is all gathered. On such food,
it becomes exceedingly fat, and when in this condition,
makes a splendid roast for the table.
(509 )
x Raccoon is found throughout the whole of the
510 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
Like the Black Bear, the ’Coon hibernates during’ the
cold storms of winter; but should the weather be open, he
will be out every night.
Their rutting-season is from about the 20th of by anuary
to the middle of February, and they bring forth, about the
1st of April, from three to six _young.
The Raccoon is easily taken in steel-traps; and to be
successful in their capture, the trap should always. be set
under water, near the edges of swamps or running streams.
But the best sport to be had in their capture is to hunt
Raccoon.
them in the night, with dogs trained for the purpose. The
best dog for this sport is the black-and-tan Fox-hound.
It has been asserted that the ’Coon leaves the least foot-
scent of any known animal; but I beg leave to differ from
those who make this assertion. He is a night traveler, at a
time of the twenty-four hours when the temperature is the
lowest; while animals like the Fox, the rabbit, or the Deer,
are generally chased during the day, when the temperature
is higher. Take a Fox-hound and put him, in the early
part of the day, when the temperature is rising, on a ’Coon-
trail which was made in the early part of the previous
7COON-HUNTING IN SOUTIIERN ILLINOIS. 511
night, and he will invariably trail the ’Coon to where it has
holed-up for the day. This, with my hounds, I have
repeatedly done; and I have seen it done by hounds owned
by others.
During the winter of 1864-65, I saw a Fox-hound bitch,
owned by Mr. Henry Fry, trail and tree Raccoons at mid-
day which had been running the previous night, there
being a ten-inch snow that had been on the ground for
some time. The warm sun during the day had softened
the snow, and at night it had frozen hard enough to form
a crust sufficiently firm to bear up even a dog; and it
being the rutting-season, the ’Coons were out on their
amorous trips every night, racing around, when the crust
would bear them.
On the following day, Fry and myself would take our
axes and his hound into the woods, and just so soon as the
warm rays of the sun would soften the snow-crust, making
it damp. she would, on coming to where a ’Coon had been,
take its trail and follow it to the tree up which it had gone,
and in an upper hollow of which it was then ensconced.
We would then cut the tree down and get the ’Coon.
Sometimes we would get two out of the same hollow. It
is not the ‘“‘cold foot’? of the ’Coon, but the time of
the night or the day in which it has left its trail, that
hinders or aids the dog in following it. This is why the
best nights for ’Coon-hunting are when the wind is from
the south.
“Hark! Listen! What noise is that, away off in the
Old Town woods?” was asked, by a recent arrival in this
region, of a resident friend with whom he was riding along
the road skirting the above-named woods, one dark night
in November. They halted their horses, when ‘‘ Boo-woo-
ouh!’’? ‘“*Youck! youck! youck!”’’ ‘‘ Whoop-ee!’’ came
floating to their ears, on the gentle southwest breeze, from
the dark and lonely forest.
‘‘Oh,”’ answers his companion, ‘‘ that’s Fry and Arrow-
smith, out with their hounds after a ’Coon.”’
§12 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
‘‘After a’Coon this time of night? Is that the way to
hunt’Coons? Certainly, there can’t be much sport in tramp-
ing through the dark woods on such a night as this. Why
not hunt them in the day-time?”’
Poor, unappreciative fellow, who has never known the
fun of racing through the dark aisles of the forest, falling
over twisted roots or rotten logs, dodging under low, out-
stretched limbs, keeping time to the enlivening music of a
dozen hounds in full cry! Yes, and how well would either
of us like to have him with us, to initiate him by losing
him and leaving him to keep up with us as best he could!
The latter he would be compelled, under the circumstances,
to do; for it would be worse than useless for him to under-
take to find his way, unaided, out of these dark, wild
woods, to light and civilization. A few brier-scratches, a
slight rent or two in his coat, or a few beggar-lice adhering
to his garments, would go a long way toward taking all
the taste for’Coon-hunting out of him. Many’s the time
we have cooked such fellows. Once was enough; they
wanted no more.
But softly, my dear friend; before you condemn such
sport, come with us, and enjoy the music of the woods
after night-fall—the low, murmuring trill of the brooklet,
the soft, gentle breeze in its whispers through the tops of
the lofty oaks, the tall shell-bark hickories, the towering
maples, and the wide-spreading elms; the silence broken
occasionally by the ghostly ‘‘to-who-who-who-who-ah’”’ of
the great horned owl, as he calls to his mate from his perch
on the dead limb of some ancient monarch of the forest..
The very stillness is of itself music to the ardent lover of
Nature and Nature’s God.
Silently we travel from point to point, guided, in our
wanderings through the trackless woods, by the constella-
tions of Orion, the great Northern Dipper, Ursus Major,
and the Pleiades, whose silent tongues tell us our course.
Just at dusk on a warm evening in early November, as a
gentle breeze came up from the south, Henry Fry rode up
to my gate, accompanied by his two black-and-tan hounds,
>COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 513
Drummer and Blucher, and called to me to get my rifle and
hounds, and come with him, for it was going to be a
‘‘boss’”’ night for ’Coons. Having put his horse in the
stable, I got my old Remington rifle and hunting-horn.
On the latter I gave three blasts, to enthuse the hounds
and make them keen for the sport, and we started for the
woods. .
‘¢ Where shall we hunt to-night, Henry ?”’ I asked.
‘© Well, as the moon don’t rise till late, and the fore part
of the night will be dark, so that we can’t see so well to
shoot, we'd better strike for the Funk woods. Funk has
reserved this tract for the special benefit of us ’Coon-hunt-
ers. Here we are allowed to cut and carve. If the moon
was up, we'd hunt along the edges of the timber, where they
don’t allow chopping, for there we could shoot.”’
Funk’s woods was a tract of some six or seven hundred
acres of the heaviest and best timber in the State, and
owned by an old land speculator by the name of Funk. On
it no chopping was allowed, save the cutting of ‘‘bee-trees”’
and ‘‘’Coon-trees.”? Funk lived in a remote part of the
county, therefore it would have been a huge undertaking
to find out and prosecute trespassers, even had he wished
to do so.
Soon after entering the woods, old Drummer opened
up on a fresh trail, some two hundred yards ahead of us.
Soon every hound responded to the deep, musical bell-tones
of the old “‘strike-dog,’’ and joined him in hot haste, mak-
ing ‘‘the welkin ring.”” To all was given an encouraging
‘‘whoop-ee’’ by the hunters.
The hounds for a few moments appeared to be at fault,
which generally is the case on first striking a trail, no mat-
ter how fresh it may be. This-is due, perhaps, to the zig-
zag course that the Raccoon generally travels in, especially
if he be feeding under beech or burr-oaks, or in a corn-field.
Now, however, they have straightened out on the trail, and
are taking it up fast and furious. The voice of each is
easily distinguished from that of another. Tenor, soft and
deep bass are blended in melodious harmony, making the
33
514 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.
dense woods fairly vibrate. They soon wake up the echoes
of the far-off hills, as they speedily close up the distance
between them and the old plantigrade, who is now begin-
ning to realize that he is about ‘‘to be caught out in a hard
shower,’’ and had best betake himself to shelter, which he
does by scaling the largest tree within reach. He is none
too soon, for the seemingly wild and furious demons are
already at the roots of the tree ere he has reached a place
of concealment.
Finding that the ’Coon has gone up the tree, the tones of
the hounds change from the musical bawl to sharp, defiant
barks, plainly announcing the fact that they have treed,
and need our assistance. An encouraging ‘‘tally-ho”’ tells
them we are coming. Now it is a blind race to the dogs—
every fellow for himself—through brush, over fallen logs;
stubbing our toes against grubs or twisted roots; bat-
ting our heads against saplings that we didn’t, or perhaps
couldn’t, see; or, if your course lay, for a time, in an old
road, plunging from ankle-deep to knee-deep in water and
mud. Such is the wild race, and no one is worse for the
wear. Indeed, who ever heard of a real enthusiastic
>Coon-hunter getting seriously hurt while marching on the
double-quick to the exciting music of the hounds. No mat-
ter how dark the night, or how many wild grape-vine tan-
gles he may encounter, or how rough the ground he ‘passes
over, he lands at the tree, ‘‘ top side up, with care,’’ every
time.
I once hit a young hunting-friend a severe blow, with the
muzzle of a long, twelve-pound rifle, across the eyebrows,
felling him to the ground; but he claimed that ‘it didn’t
hurt him a bit,’’ although his left eye was black for a week.
We had put up a ’Coon with our hounds, one dark night,
on a large, tall red oak, and had built a rousing fire
near the roots of the tree, to keep us comfortable until day-
light, when we would be able to locate and shoot the ’Coon.
On the approach of daylight, I saw the old corn-stealer
high up in the tree, and knew that from its position it —
was likely to fall, when shot, right into our fire.
*>COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 515
I told my friend to be ready to snatch it out should it
fall there. He was standing just behind me from the fire,
and at the crack of my rifle, sprung forward as I lowered it
from my shoulder, and received a murderous blow. Never-
theless, he regained his feet, and snatched the ’Coon up
out of the embers as soon as it fell. I was well aware that
such a blow did hurt, but he insisted that it did not; and
since then I have had many a laugh at him aboutit. He
was doubtless so excited at the time, over the securing of
the game, that he didn’t feel the blow.
Fry and myself soon reached the point where our dogs
were baying, found they had treed the ’Coon on a large
sugar-maple, and soon located him, in a crotch pretty well
up toward the top. 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
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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.
SMITH & WESSON,
SPRINCFIELD, MASS.
H. W, JENNEY, President. - Cc. L. GRAHAM, Sec’y and Treas.
BOATS, HUNTING EQUIPMENTS, RODS,
TENTS, REELS,
sence, SPORTING GOODS ‘ses
NETS BAITS
LAWN FINE ANGLING OUTFITS. BASE
TENNIS, BALL
Lelever Hanmeriess puns. =
The best trap and field Gun made. It will cut-shoot all others; is simpler
in construc ion and more durable.
A COMPLETE LINE OF AMERICAN AND FOREIGN GUNS
Of every standard make. W. & C. Scott & Sons’ Premier Hammerless;
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Parker, Ithaca, Bonehill, Remington and others
Winchester, Marlin, Ballard, Stevens and all Modern Rifles,
i
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PETERS’ LOADED SHELLS
Penetration Increased, Pattern Improved, Reg i}Diminished,
Fou ing Prevented, iG
JENNEY & GRAHAM GUN CO.,, -
102 Madison St., CHICACO.
SEND FOR CATALOGUE,
The Parker Hammerless Shot Gu
At the annual tournament of 1889, held at Cannes, France, the grand
prize, consisting of 2,000 Francs and a valuable cup, was won with the
Parker Hammerless.
The first Parker Hammerless Gun made won the championship of
America at Decatur, Il.
Send for illustrated circular.
PARKER BROS., Makers, MERIDEN, CONN,
NEW YORK SALESROOM, 97 CHAMBERS ST.
BOOKS BY T. 8. VAN DYKE.
SOUTHERN CALIFORIA,
Its Valleys, Hills, and Streams. Its Animals, Birds, and Fishes.
Its Gardens, Farms, and Climate.
A full description of Southern California, with all its attractions, drawbacks, and peculi-
arities, and its leading Frora and Fauna. 238 pages. Price, $1.50.
The Rifle, Rod, and Gun in California
A fall descriptive sketch of the principal out-of-door amusements of Southern California,
and especially of San Diego County, its climate, scenery, etc. 299 pages. Price, $1.50.
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.
St. Paul, Minneapolis, Duluth, Ashland,
Lake Minnetonka, Yellowstone
National Park.
‘Council Bluffs, Omaha, Denver and the
Mountains of Colorado, Salt Lake Clty,
San Francisco, Los Angeles, Colton,
San Diego, Portland, Tacoma,
Seattle, Victoria, Vancouver and
all Callfornia, Alaska and
Pacific Coast Points.
Consisting of =a
THROUGH FAST TRAINS
Between CHICAGO and destinations, is carefully arranged
to meet the requirements of Through and Local Travel, and
its equipment of new and superb SLEEPING CARS,
PALATIAL DINING CARS and ELEGANT PAR-
LOR OARS AND COAOHES is such as to command
44] the patronage of the hest class of travelera, It is the ONLY
pe ‘| LINE to the BLACK HILLS.
>a $f Rates, Maps, and all information furnished on ay ae
to any Ticket Agent, or to the General Passenger Agent, at
Chicago.
Ww. H. NEWMAN, J. M. WHITMAN, ‘ E. P. WILSON,
3d Vice-President. General Manager. General Passenger Agent,
Superb Train Service, Good Connections, Fast Time and No Delays.
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
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